Written By Tristan
Dec. 3, 2018, 2:26 a.m.(2/8/1010 AR)
The Master of Questions has gifted me a very fine dairy cow. I have decided to set up a sideline in the Royal Stables selling creamy refreshments, spiked with rum.
Alternatively, I will use the cow's milk to supplement the feed of the barn kittens and begin laying the foundation of my kitten empire.
(Why he had a dairy cow in the first place? Don't ask.)
Alternatively, I will use the cow's milk to supplement the feed of the barn kittens and begin laying the foundation of my kitten empire.
(Why he had a dairy cow in the first place? Don't ask.)
Written By Tristan
July 16, 2018, 6:31 p.m.(3/15/1009 AR)
I don't understand the fuss about sparkling wine. I find the bubbles just get up your nose and it doesn't do anything to get you properly drunk.
...not that I ever get drunk.
...not that I ever get drunk.
Written By Tristan
July 13, 2018, 6:54 p.m.(3/9/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Aleksei
I've decided to take responsibility. I just haven't had Patches out in public much of late and it's possible that social harmony depends far more on the presence of one small, three-legged dog than I thought.
We should have a 'pet a dog, calm down' day, but only if I'm allowed to drink and make sarcastic commentary at the sidelines.
We should have a 'pet a dog, calm down' day, but only if I'm allowed to drink and make sarcastic commentary at the sidelines.
Written By Tristan
March 12, 2018, 10:52 p.m.(5/8/1008 AR)
I've been out of it for a bit. It's foaling season and that has my full attention. Re-emerged to take a look at journals. World still ending, check. People still stupid, check. Missed a few good dust-ups in the whites, alas.
Still, it's foaling season.
And I may be a rude, cynical bastard (I plead guilty), but it's hard not to hope when fuzzy little foals are testing their wobbly legs for the first time.
Still, it's foaling season.
And I may be a rude, cynical bastard (I plead guilty), but it's hard not to hope when fuzzy little foals are testing their wobbly legs for the first time.
Written By Tristan
Feb. 5, 2018, 3:31 p.m.(2/15/1008 AR)
In solidarity to a fellow commoner I have never met, I would like to offer myself as a living example of the fact one need not be charming for someone to want to take you to bed—or hayloft—or wall—or whatever is at hand. I’ve spent most of my life embracing my utter lack of social graces and I must confess I’ve managed it once or twice. That said, even a gruff misanthrope like me retains the courtesy not to bring unplanned children into the world.
In entirely unrelated news, I have spent some time exploring local pasturage for a royal boon-related personal project and have found clumps of a certain herb growing wild and will be happy to collect it free of,charge to nobles who, it appears, may have run out of it.
In entirely unrelated news, I have spent some time exploring local pasturage for a royal boon-related personal project and have found clumps of a certain herb growing wild and will be happy to collect it free of,charge to nobles who, it appears, may have run out of it.
Written By Tristan
Jan. 26, 2018, 11:54 a.m.(1/15/1008 AR)
I've learnt something about monsters in my time.
Sometimes monsters creep like oozing scum across the seas. Sometimes they have wings and spit acid. Sometimes they have human faces and sneak into the city to murder.
Sometimes they are human, and smile at you across a table, and try to justify their monstrosity. Sometimes you think because you know them and whatever they did seems so far away and distant that they can't possibly be monsters.
Knowing something is unspeakably terrible and doing it anyway does not make you a martyr or a hero. It makes you a monster.
Slaughtering people on the off chance they might have spoken with those allied with your enemies is not the way to 'save' anything, especially your soul.
I am so, so tired of people excusing the murder of children because the murderer was a noble they know and the murdered Abandoned no one here knew.
Sometimes monsters creep like oozing scum across the seas. Sometimes they have wings and spit acid. Sometimes they have human faces and sneak into the city to murder.
Sometimes they are human, and smile at you across a table, and try to justify their monstrosity. Sometimes you think because you know them and whatever they did seems so far away and distant that they can't possibly be monsters.
Knowing something is unspeakably terrible and doing it anyway does not make you a martyr or a hero. It makes you a monster.
Slaughtering people on the off chance they might have spoken with those allied with your enemies is not the way to 'save' anything, especially your soul.
I am so, so tired of people excusing the murder of children because the murderer was a noble they know and the murdered Abandoned no one here knew.
Written By Tristan
Jan. 25, 2018, 9:54 p.m.(1/14/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Thena
Too late.
On the other hand, the king is perfectly aware the only things I am fit to be in charge of are animals and booze.
On the other hand, the king is perfectly aware the only things I am fit to be in charge of are animals and booze.
Written By Tristan
Jan. 25, 2018, 9:38 p.m.(1/14/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Bastien
Sssh, don't write that so loud. They might catch on.
Written By Tristan
Jan. 25, 2018, 9:33 p.m.(1/14/1008 AR)
The freedom to squabble in as undignified a manner as I chose in the whites seems like a compelling reason to remain a commoner.
Written By Tristan
Jan. 25, 2018, 7:01 p.m.(1/14/1008 AR)
Time and time again, I've had to explain this to people:
One does not put a fine war horse into harness, nor send a carriage horse into battle. A horse bred to run is different yet from either of these, as is a horse bred to the hunt.
There are some very fine horses bred to be suitable to a variety of purposes, but in each purpose they will never reach the level a specialist will.
And this carries no shame for any of these animals. There is nothing wrong with having a purpose, knowing your purpose, and sticking to it.
One does not put a fine war horse into harness, nor send a carriage horse into battle. A horse bred to run is different yet from either of these, as is a horse bred to the hunt.
There are some very fine horses bred to be suitable to a variety of purposes, but in each purpose they will never reach the level a specialist will.
And this carries no shame for any of these animals. There is nothing wrong with having a purpose, knowing your purpose, and sticking to it.
Written By Tristan
Jan. 5, 2018, 9:30 p.m.(11/28/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Carita
That's like riding, but with one of those big floaty things instead of a horse, right?
Written By Tristan
Jan. 5, 2018, 9:30 p.m.(11/28/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Eleyna
I could try fluttering my eyelashes?
Written By Tristan
Jan. 5, 2018, 9:07 p.m.(11/28/1007 AR)
It seems now the supply of noblemen is now so dire they are now openly being poached from the commons.
Therefore, I would also like to offer myself for adoption. For the good of the realm. It would be an immense sacrifice, but I do believe I can cope.
Also, I come with an extremely adorable dog.
Therefore, I would also like to offer myself for adoption. For the good of the realm. It would be an immense sacrifice, but I do believe I can cope.
Also, I come with an extremely adorable dog.
Written By Tristan
Jan. 4, 2018, 11:03 p.m.(11/26/1007 AR)
I have thought long and hard over the last day and have decided, although I have long cherished a general loathing for the institution of princessdom, I will offer myself as a potential marriage candidate for interested princesses.
Not that I want to be a prince. This is a selfless sacrifice for the good of the Compact.
After all, they appear to have run out of noblemen to marry, and it would be a terrible shame if not all royal branches were given the opportunity to flourish until all high lords and ladies had little twenty-second cousins running around just in case first through twenty-first cousins perished in an unfortunate gazebo incident.
I will refrain from sharing my observations of beneficial results from the crossing of unlike types, as gained from a lifetime's experience with the breeding of horses.
Messengers may find me at the royal stables. Please note they are in serious danger of being slobbered to death by my ferocious guard dog.
Not that I want to be a prince. This is a selfless sacrifice for the good of the Compact.
After all, they appear to have run out of noblemen to marry, and it would be a terrible shame if not all royal branches were given the opportunity to flourish until all high lords and ladies had little twenty-second cousins running around just in case first through twenty-first cousins perished in an unfortunate gazebo incident.
I will refrain from sharing my observations of beneficial results from the crossing of unlike types, as gained from a lifetime's experience with the breeding of horses.
Messengers may find me at the royal stables. Please note they are in serious danger of being slobbered to death by my ferocious guard dog.
Written By Tristan
Oct. 30, 2017, 6:17 p.m.(6/28/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Talia
I wish to note if anyone--that is _anyone_--choose to pick on my little sister, I will take action, up to and including punches to the nose or elsewhere.
Written By Tristan
Aug. 16, 2017, 3:48 p.m.(1/13/1007 AR)
I've never wanted to be noble. Could argue that's one of my defining traits.
Now that's theoretically possible, though, I spent ten minutes today thinking about it.
Scary thought.
Now that's theoretically possible, though, I spent ten minutes today thinking about it.
Scary thought.
Written By Tristan
Aug. 13, 2017, 11:26 p.m.(1/8/1007 AR)
Years ago, when I was not yet Royal Stablemaster, one of the prized royal broodmares, dam of many fine warhorses, had an unplanned dalliance with a stallion of Lycene breeding, all racy lines and fire. My predecessor said the foal would be worthless--not a warhorse, not a carthorse, unsuited for anything, and one might as well cut the foal's throat when it was born. Instead, I asked for the foal.
That was my Flame, who has grown up shorter than most proud warhorses, and not possessing of the full complement of their strength--but he is fast and agile, and talented in many ways. I didn't win the jumping at the Iron Pentathlon--he did. I didn't win the joust--he did. I just held the spear.
So let that be a lesson--never throw away lives. Not because it doesn't conform to your standard. Not because said life is missing a leg but still has so much love to give. And don't throw away a life because you're being bloody stubborn about yielding in a game.
That was my Flame, who has grown up shorter than most proud warhorses, and not possessing of the full complement of their strength--but he is fast and agile, and talented in many ways. I didn't win the jumping at the Iron Pentathlon--he did. I didn't win the joust--he did. I just held the spear.
So let that be a lesson--never throw away lives. Not because it doesn't conform to your standard. Not because said life is missing a leg but still has so much love to give. And don't throw away a life because you're being bloody stubborn about yielding in a game.
Written By Tristan
July 23, 2017, 8:15 p.m.(11/21/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Alaric
I'm not much for expressing emotion (unless it's righteous anger) but I am so glad you're back, old friend.
Written By Tristan
May 7, 2017, 10:50 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
I don't want to write about the dead or the fighting or the Bringers, or my stupid broken rib that keeps stabbing me every time I breathe. I don't want to think about the stink of corpses or the people waiting for those who will never come home again.
Someday I'll talk about it.
Instead, I'll write about this: with the siege lifted, and our enemies crushed, I could leave the safety of walls. For the first time in too many weeks, I took Flame for a gallop along the beach. The waves licked at his hooves as they fell, and the wind buffeted at my cheeks, sparking tears in my eyes, and whistled in my ears. His hooves fell in damp drumming and we soared along the beach, two into one, the world before us as if we could take off and fly without end.
They almost took that freedom from us.
We are free again.
Someday I'll talk about it.
Instead, I'll write about this: with the siege lifted, and our enemies crushed, I could leave the safety of walls. For the first time in too many weeks, I took Flame for a gallop along the beach. The waves licked at his hooves as they fell, and the wind buffeted at my cheeks, sparking tears in my eyes, and whistled in my ears. His hooves fell in damp drumming and we soared along the beach, two into one, the world before us as if we could take off and fly without end.
They almost took that freedom from us.
We are free again.
Written By Tristan
April 18, 2017, 12:42 p.m.(4/18/1006 AR)
On the attempt to ban alcohol:
One - All alcohol worth drinking was brewed some time ago. Forbidding its sale is not going to magically reconstitute its grain.
Two - Alcohol is sacred to Mangata, you twit. Shall we reject a goddess's blessing even as we need divine goodwill?
Three - Morale, blah blah. There's a point here but I spent most of my eloquence on slaughtered civilians.
If anyone wants to raise a glass to honour the Lady of the Waves, I'll be in Traders tonight. Even when the darkness is at our throats we fight all the better for a moment's respite.
One - All alcohol worth drinking was brewed some time ago. Forbidding its sale is not going to magically reconstitute its grain.
Two - Alcohol is sacred to Mangata, you twit. Shall we reject a goddess's blessing even as we need divine goodwill?
Three - Morale, blah blah. There's a point here but I spent most of my eloquence on slaughtered civilians.
If anyone wants to raise a glass to honour the Lady of the Waves, I'll be in Traders tonight. Even when the darkness is at our throats we fight all the better for a moment's respite.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.