Written By Valenzo
May 19, 2021, 6:13 a.m.(7/2/1015 AR)
Things that Corbin the Crow keeps repeating or has learned to say:
"Go away! Go away!" Spoken by yours truly.
"He was a prince there." - Ev
"Yours?" some scarred fellow I came across in the Black Crow.
"Kia..." - Lord Domonico.
"HA!" Don't recognise this one. Some crew member, maybe?
Ev's right. It's just a silly bird. I've got more important things to worry about that thinking some crow is out to get me.
"Go away! Go away!" Spoken by yours truly.
"He was a prince there." - Ev
"Yours?" some scarred fellow I came across in the Black Crow.
"Kia..." - Lord Domonico.
"HA!" Don't recognise this one. Some crew member, maybe?
Ev's right. It's just a silly bird. I've got more important things to worry about that thinking some crow is out to get me.
Written By Valenzo
May 3, 2021, 4:26 p.m.(5/27/1015 AR)
That abyssal crow is back.
Bran, one of the topmen, had brought him aboard during my return home from our long voyage. A purchase from some bazaar in Southport. "It talks," he'd said, offering the thing to me as some ship's personal mascot. "The gypsy said it can see into a man's soul, tell truth from lies."
"Did she tell you it could predict the weather and bring you fame and fortune, too?" I told him. "I don't want that thing in here, shitting on my papers and messing up my things. Keep it below or on deck. Not in here."
'Corbin', Bran named it. A man who's name means 'crow' buys a crow from some gypsy woman named 'Crow Eye' and gives it a name that means 'crow'. Talk about redundancy.
Funny enough, that damned noisy bird seemed to bring back some morale into an already dejected crew I feared would mutiny at the first sign of the grog running out. I couldn't just have someone kill it or set it free. Besides, even if we let it go, it'd just came back anyway. It could mimic a man's voice like a song. It was uncanny how good the crow was, if not downright creepy. I'd have thought that superstitious lot would have tied Master Corbin in rope and stones and tossed him overboard, thinking the bird would bring misfortune. But no. They LOVED the abyssal thing. All the voices it could mimic, too. Much as I disliked it, I couldn't be rid of it. But then luck happened to come my way. Well, at least for a short while.
On our way past Brighthold, there was a murder of crows all lofting on this old tree by a cliff. Corbin takes one look at them and he's off, taking up to roost near them. The lads were a little raw at first, but I guess happy Corbin had found some of his fellows to hang out with. A nice, happy ending, right? Wrong.
This morning I was out, enjoying the nice air from my room window, and that black feathered fuckwit comes flying in and lands on the window. How in the seven blazes did it find me from Brighthold? "Go away!" it keeps saying in my voice "Go away, go away!" Damned thing won't shut up.
One of Lord Domonico's servants who's ken with animals tells me he can train it to be a messenger. Good. Anything to keep that black feathered bastard away from me is just the thing I need. After all, I can't mistreat it or abandon it the abyssal bird. Bran was one of the few lost when the Terrapin went down, so it'd be wrong to, what's more would bring me bad luck.
The Gods and the games they play with us...
Bran, one of the topmen, had brought him aboard during my return home from our long voyage. A purchase from some bazaar in Southport. "It talks," he'd said, offering the thing to me as some ship's personal mascot. "The gypsy said it can see into a man's soul, tell truth from lies."
"Did she tell you it could predict the weather and bring you fame and fortune, too?" I told him. "I don't want that thing in here, shitting on my papers and messing up my things. Keep it below or on deck. Not in here."
'Corbin', Bran named it. A man who's name means 'crow' buys a crow from some gypsy woman named 'Crow Eye' and gives it a name that means 'crow'. Talk about redundancy.
Funny enough, that damned noisy bird seemed to bring back some morale into an already dejected crew I feared would mutiny at the first sign of the grog running out. I couldn't just have someone kill it or set it free. Besides, even if we let it go, it'd just came back anyway. It could mimic a man's voice like a song. It was uncanny how good the crow was, if not downright creepy. I'd have thought that superstitious lot would have tied Master Corbin in rope and stones and tossed him overboard, thinking the bird would bring misfortune. But no. They LOVED the abyssal thing. All the voices it could mimic, too. Much as I disliked it, I couldn't be rid of it. But then luck happened to come my way. Well, at least for a short while.
On our way past Brighthold, there was a murder of crows all lofting on this old tree by a cliff. Corbin takes one look at them and he's off, taking up to roost near them. The lads were a little raw at first, but I guess happy Corbin had found some of his fellows to hang out with. A nice, happy ending, right? Wrong.
This morning I was out, enjoying the nice air from my room window, and that black feathered fuckwit comes flying in and lands on the window. How in the seven blazes did it find me from Brighthold? "Go away!" it keeps saying in my voice "Go away, go away!" Damned thing won't shut up.
One of Lord Domonico's servants who's ken with animals tells me he can train it to be a messenger. Good. Anything to keep that black feathered bastard away from me is just the thing I need. After all, I can't mistreat it or abandon it the abyssal bird. Bran was one of the few lost when the Terrapin went down, so it'd be wrong to, what's more would bring me bad luck.
The Gods and the games they play with us...
Written By Valenzo
May 2, 2021, 4:19 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Things are happening so fast. So fast that my head hasn’t stopped spinning since the day I returned to Arx. I might have kept other journal entries for those fancy scholars, if my journal wasn’t sitting at the bottom of Pieros Bay right now, along with every other secret, chart and log. Lost my damn rutter, too. All that work around the northwest coast, gone, along with the Terrapin and a few good members of my crew.
I went out looking for fame and fortune, found neither, and upon my arrival to the city, the good Lord Domonico assigns me second in command to the fleet. Looks like the Eurusians hate us, now. Or we hate them? I’m not sure, I was gone too long to keep up with all the current events. I was overwhelmed and flattered, but you know what they say about necessity. It was more a need for a hole to be filled than an offer made purely from the cockles of his heart.
Before I know what’s what, there I am, in the Terrapin, hundreds of ships on each side. I acted the brave warrior, but tell you the truth, I didn’t have a clue on what I was doing. I’ve played at war, sure. Played all the games of the tangible and intangible, swung that pendulum of potentiality. But war? Yeah, I had skirmishes back in my naval days. But nothing like this, really.
So I had to go and be some cocky hero out of some saga or legend, and now my ship is gone, along with Dietrich. Gods, I miss that old bastard as much as I miss his soup. What in the abyss do I know about cooking? And while we won the day on the sea, on the shore it wasn’t so much a victory, but wasn’t a loss, either. When you stare into the abyss, the abyss often stares back.
I came home, wanting to crawl in some wine sink in the Burroughs. I wanted Domonico to bellow and shout at me, tell me what a damned fool I was and how I jeopardised my entire crew because all of these dreamy notions of fame and glory that creep into my head. Domonico hasn’t seen the things I’ve seen or done the things I’ve done. But instead? I get promoted. Promoted!
Lord Domonico has asked me to captain a caravel, The Siccaro. Funny how I always dreamed of owning one, my own shallow drafted three-master in my dreams of trade and my own cocoa plantation. This isn’t the dream I wanted, and now I've been thrust into responsibility I didn’t seek. But by Skald, a caravel to pilot! I’ve learned enough about their construction and handling, but it's nothing like my old Terrapin. One mast is enough, now there's three, and thrice the crew to boot.
Of course, now there’s that other thing with Ev, too. Things are happening too fast! It was so easy being alone out there. Guess we all have to come home sometime.
I went out looking for fame and fortune, found neither, and upon my arrival to the city, the good Lord Domonico assigns me second in command to the fleet. Looks like the Eurusians hate us, now. Or we hate them? I’m not sure, I was gone too long to keep up with all the current events. I was overwhelmed and flattered, but you know what they say about necessity. It was more a need for a hole to be filled than an offer made purely from the cockles of his heart.
Before I know what’s what, there I am, in the Terrapin, hundreds of ships on each side. I acted the brave warrior, but tell you the truth, I didn’t have a clue on what I was doing. I’ve played at war, sure. Played all the games of the tangible and intangible, swung that pendulum of potentiality. But war? Yeah, I had skirmishes back in my naval days. But nothing like this, really.
So I had to go and be some cocky hero out of some saga or legend, and now my ship is gone, along with Dietrich. Gods, I miss that old bastard as much as I miss his soup. What in the abyss do I know about cooking? And while we won the day on the sea, on the shore it wasn’t so much a victory, but wasn’t a loss, either. When you stare into the abyss, the abyss often stares back.
I came home, wanting to crawl in some wine sink in the Burroughs. I wanted Domonico to bellow and shout at me, tell me what a damned fool I was and how I jeopardised my entire crew because all of these dreamy notions of fame and glory that creep into my head. Domonico hasn’t seen the things I’ve seen or done the things I’ve done. But instead? I get promoted. Promoted!
Lord Domonico has asked me to captain a caravel, The Siccaro. Funny how I always dreamed of owning one, my own shallow drafted three-master in my dreams of trade and my own cocoa plantation. This isn’t the dream I wanted, and now I've been thrust into responsibility I didn’t seek. But by Skald, a caravel to pilot! I’ve learned enough about their construction and handling, but it's nothing like my old Terrapin. One mast is enough, now there's three, and thrice the crew to boot.
Of course, now there’s that other thing with Ev, too. Things are happening too fast! It was so easy being alone out there. Guess we all have to come home sometime.
Written By Valenzo
May 28, 2019, 10:22 a.m.(3/7/1011 AR)
Dunno how I wound up here, Scholar, but it figures this would be the place.
Wine?
Ahhh, c'mon then, just a nip -- there's a friend.
...Aye, it's a fine vintage, eh? Dunno where I got it...suppose this vineyard's been dead for a hundred years, or hasn't technically been grown yet, or won't ever will be -- again, mind, the Dream.
The Dream is interesting that way, I suppose; sometimes you're in one spot, and then sometimes you're in quite another.
I've been thinking about it all -- the little family of ne'er-do-wells I've met during my time here -- and I love them quite fiercely, even though some of them are verifiably batshit insane.
I've been treated rather poorly, teased and mocked, and I'm sure some would rather I just leave altogether, so I suppose that's what I'll do for a bit.
Venture out, where the stars swirl and churn in their infinite potentialities, where all borders dissolve and recombine into pathways that a lonely traveler can walk. I have always loved the Gray Path, it is my heart and soul, and it's never lead me wrong.
You may see Valenzo Vincinatti again, but it won't be me -- not in truth. Or it may be that I finally just explode right and proper, what with the ties to two different Archfiends that were never cleansed or even discussed, not by anyone who claimed to be a brother, anyway -- too busy preening, I suppose, and fapping over his own intellect and supposing he pulled one over on me -- but that's the mad ones for you.
Whatever happens to me later, it's best I go now. Wherever, whenever.
For those who have been nothing but kind and sweet and hilarious and just...so much fun, thank you.
Remember Grim Eye's lesson, but more importanly -- remember, it's just a Dream.
I hope we meet again, on the seas of potentiality.
Wine?
Ahhh, c'mon then, just a nip -- there's a friend.
...Aye, it's a fine vintage, eh? Dunno where I got it...suppose this vineyard's been dead for a hundred years, or hasn't technically been grown yet, or won't ever will be -- again, mind, the Dream.
The Dream is interesting that way, I suppose; sometimes you're in one spot, and then sometimes you're in quite another.
I've been thinking about it all -- the little family of ne'er-do-wells I've met during my time here -- and I love them quite fiercely, even though some of them are verifiably batshit insane.
I've been treated rather poorly, teased and mocked, and I'm sure some would rather I just leave altogether, so I suppose that's what I'll do for a bit.
Venture out, where the stars swirl and churn in their infinite potentialities, where all borders dissolve and recombine into pathways that a lonely traveler can walk. I have always loved the Gray Path, it is my heart and soul, and it's never lead me wrong.
You may see Valenzo Vincinatti again, but it won't be me -- not in truth. Or it may be that I finally just explode right and proper, what with the ties to two different Archfiends that were never cleansed or even discussed, not by anyone who claimed to be a brother, anyway -- too busy preening, I suppose, and fapping over his own intellect and supposing he pulled one over on me -- but that's the mad ones for you.
Whatever happens to me later, it's best I go now. Wherever, whenever.
For those who have been nothing but kind and sweet and hilarious and just...so much fun, thank you.
Remember Grim Eye's lesson, but more importanly -- remember, it's just a Dream.
I hope we meet again, on the seas of potentiality.
Written By Valenzo
May 23, 2019, 2:55 a.m.(2/25/1011 AR)
Just so as it's not a shock to those of my crew on shoreleave, and those friends he made in the city...
Kev passed, last evening, while I was in the Shrine. Night watch aboard the Terrapin found him belowdecks in my quarters...rude little shit knocked some things off my shelves as he went down, of course.
I'm having an urn done, something tasteful and shiny I think, just...just as he woulda...
Scholar it is just something in my eye, don't look at me please.
Kev passed, last evening, while I was in the Shrine. Night watch aboard the Terrapin found him belowdecks in my quarters...rude little shit knocked some things off my shelves as he went down, of course.
I'm having an urn done, something tasteful and shiny I think, just...just as he woulda...
Scholar it is just something in my eye, don't look at me please.
Written By Valenzo
May 22, 2019, 9:55 a.m.(2/23/1011 AR)
Someone's gone and kicked a giant anthill after infuriating it with a stick.
Healthy to keep in mind that no matter what the broken earth reveals or what the flung clods hit, neither of those are the boot that did the kicking, savvy?
Healthy to keep in mind that no matter what the broken earth reveals or what the flung clods hit, neither of those are the boot that did the kicking, savvy?
Written By Valenzo
May 17, 2019, 8:47 a.m.(2/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Evaristo
Our dear Josie mentioned thirteen silver strands, aye?
I mean if we're all being honest here, you're probably responsible for...oh...twelve of them, I'd wager.
I mean if we're all being honest here, you're probably responsible for...oh...twelve of them, I'd wager.
Written By Valenzo
May 10, 2019, 7:06 a.m.(1/27/1011 AR)
I've been thinking about the Mage of Second Chances lately. It's that time of year.
In the tales, she earned her title because of her power over time, but I occasionally wonder if it didn't mean more.
Was she forgiving? What would a hero of mine have thought of a poor shit like me, who has made choices (some I don't even remember) that sometimes seem irreversible?
I was in no position to find out while she still lived, by any measure, but...it still hurts to think I'll never know.
In the tales, she earned her title because of her power over time, but I occasionally wonder if it didn't mean more.
Was she forgiving? What would a hero of mine have thought of a poor shit like me, who has made choices (some I don't even remember) that sometimes seem irreversible?
I was in no position to find out while she still lived, by any measure, but...it still hurts to think I'll never know.
Written By Valenzo
May 8, 2019, 12:16 a.m.(1/23/1011 AR)
Telling someone about what you see when you close your eyes and dream of your own future and hearing delight and encouragement is a balm on the very soul.
(...And with everything I've learned about it so far, Scholar, this soul needs a /lot/ of balm, but...that's a topic for another day, aye?)
Thank you. I pray you're with me when I touch the sky.
(...And with everything I've learned about it so far, Scholar, this soul needs a /lot/ of balm, but...that's a topic for another day, aye?)
Thank you. I pray you're with me when I touch the sky.
Written By Valenzo
May 2, 2019, 10:33 a.m.(1/11/1011 AR)
I thought being tasked with thirteen days and nights in the Great Cathedral would be...well, boring.
And stretches of it have been, certainly, though there is something rather entrancing about stained glass. (Also, rum.)
But you meet very interesting people there, and it's a very quiet and beautiful place to reflect. I highly recommend it.
And stretches of it have been, certainly, though there is something rather entrancing about stained glass. (Also, rum.)
But you meet very interesting people there, and it's a very quiet and beautiful place to reflect. I highly recommend it.
Written By Valenzo
April 29, 2019, 12:20 p.m.(1/6/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Evaristo
I thought you knew better than that, Ev. They're the trickiest sort, what with having to adapt around them all the time!!
Written By Valenzo
April 28, 2019, 7:06 p.m.(1/4/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Evaristo
...Who in the Dream managed to pull the proverbial wool over /your/ eyes?
Written By Valenzo
April 27, 2019, 6:36 p.m.(1/2/1011 AR)
We're framing a very beautiful and extremely accurate painted depiction of myself as a very muscular shark-man-person fighting other sharks, and on a Totally Not-At-All Related Note Nalls just got a promotion to Terrapin's quartermaster! Congrats Nalls!!
(Also, the Lady Videl Igniseri is an extremely generous teacher and host for putting up with such a rowdy crowd. I highly recommend her next art appreciation afternoon!)
(Also, the Lady Videl Igniseri is an extremely generous teacher and host for putting up with such a rowdy crowd. I highly recommend her next art appreciation afternoon!)
Written By Valenzo
April 23, 2019, 2:19 a.m.(12/21/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
...Right, well...it sounded kinder than "almost-certainly inevitable doom," love.
Written By Valenzo
April 22, 2019, 9:42 a.m.(12/19/1010 AR)
It's always fascinating to learn how inherently interwoven all of our fates truly are.
I came to this city an ignorant, superstitious sailor, horrified by something I thought I'd never truly understand, but with each brilliant soul I meet I'm given some small shred of hope that things may just work out.
To all the lost ones like me, my dear friends and those I've yet to know: we'll see this through, aye? No matter the cost.
I came to this city an ignorant, superstitious sailor, horrified by something I thought I'd never truly understand, but with each brilliant soul I meet I'm given some small shred of hope that things may just work out.
To all the lost ones like me, my dear friends and those I've yet to know: we'll see this through, aye? No matter the cost.
Written By Valenzo
April 17, 2019, 5:22 p.m.(12/10/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Alrec
You were a...complicated man.
At your worst, you deserved this; I don't believe anyone I know thought very highly of you, to put it mildly -- and good Gods man, you were adrift at sea and drowning fast, and you almost seemed to prefer it that way. This was somewhat inevitable.
Still, you were always kind to me, and tried to help me get a leg up in your self-serving way, and I'll remember it.
I'll pour out a little grog on the docks for you, Admiral.
At your worst, you deserved this; I don't believe anyone I know thought very highly of you, to put it mildly -- and good Gods man, you were adrift at sea and drowning fast, and you almost seemed to prefer it that way. This was somewhat inevitable.
Still, you were always kind to me, and tried to help me get a leg up in your self-serving way, and I'll remember it.
I'll pour out a little grog on the docks for you, Admiral.
Written By Valenzo
April 14, 2019, 10:52 a.m.(12/3/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Evaristo
...I'm no longer sure you understand the word "serious," Ev.
Written By Valenzo
April 12, 2019, 10:56 a.m.(11/27/1010 AR)
...Gods damn it all.
Well, you know what they say: you're often your own worst enemy.
Well, you know what they say: you're often your own worst enemy.
Written By Valenzo
April 9, 2019, 10:13 a.m.(11/21/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
Oh I can find my own, BUT I prefer yours.
Eh? EH?
Eh? EH?
Written By Valenzo
April 8, 2019, 1:39 p.m.(11/20/1010 AR)
Haven't had a reason to really let the Terrapin loose to stretch her legs in some time, and the crew was getting rowdy after the Courtkeep Incident, so I decided to set out into deeper waters yesterday, catch the wind, really fly.
Beautiful day for it...a high Autumn sun, the sort that that kisses your fingertips if you stretch 'em into the light but still leaves your nose chilled...and then the breeze came in, strong as if Mangata herself had leaned in and whispered to us.
All souls aboard in high spirits, we left the docks and city behind, let down our turtle sail...and...
"VALENZO CAN'T FIND HIS OWN BUT."
Large red letters, painted right across the turtle shell.
...There's just...there's something inherently more infuriating about a misspelled insult.
Beautiful day for it...a high Autumn sun, the sort that that kisses your fingertips if you stretch 'em into the light but still leaves your nose chilled...and then the breeze came in, strong as if Mangata herself had leaned in and whispered to us.
All souls aboard in high spirits, we left the docks and city behind, let down our turtle sail...and...
"VALENZO CAN'T FIND HIS OWN BUT."
Large red letters, painted right across the turtle shell.
...There's just...there's something inherently more infuriating about a misspelled insult.
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