Written By Piccola
June 8, 2020, 6:37 p.m.(6/10/1013 AR)
It was if, all at once, the world came at me, and all I had in my hands was air.
Would or could they have stopped me? I don't know; I don't care. But I can sense them even now. Everything before is a haze, and everything now but a yearning for more of a dream and less of a reality. I cannot stop thinking of them and I don't want to stop thinking of them.
Why am I writing this down but to express my frustration?
Would or could they have stopped me? I don't know; I don't care. But I can sense them even now. Everything before is a haze, and everything now but a yearning for more of a dream and less of a reality. I cannot stop thinking of them and I don't want to stop thinking of them.
Why am I writing this down but to express my frustration?
Written By Piccola
June 6, 2020, 1 p.m.(6/6/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Sabine
The general who wins the battle makes many calculations in his temple before the battle is fought.
Written By Piccola
June 4, 2020, 7:10 p.m.(6/2/1013 AR)
Today I remembered well what Stephen told me long ago.
When faced with a superior opponent, keep moving; don't let them catch you. When faced with a comparable opponent, make them attack; don't let them hit you. And when faced with an inferior opponent, keep attacking; don't let them escape you.
Above all these things, the successful soldier is the one who survives and persists.
When faced with a superior opponent, keep moving; don't let them catch you. When faced with a comparable opponent, make them attack; don't let them hit you. And when faced with an inferior opponent, keep attacking; don't let them escape you.
Above all these things, the successful soldier is the one who survives and persists.
Written By Piccola
June 3, 2020, 8:25 p.m.(5/28/1013 AR)
One moment, you are swept into a tempest.
There's nothing to cling to, nothing in sight. The rain pelts you and the chill sets into your bones. You are all alone in the storm, and the howl of the wind is your only comfort. Yet you survive, and persist, because these are the only two things which matter.
The next moment, you are in the comfort of someone's arms.
It is warm and kind, confusing and frightening. The sun is hot and inviting, but too much of it burns. You are alone, but not lonely, and the sound of their heart reminds you of your own. You yearn to grow and learn, but the lessons are dangerous.
These are the things to live for.
There's nothing to cling to, nothing in sight. The rain pelts you and the chill sets into your bones. You are all alone in the storm, and the howl of the wind is your only comfort. Yet you survive, and persist, because these are the only two things which matter.
The next moment, you are in the comfort of someone's arms.
It is warm and kind, confusing and frightening. The sun is hot and inviting, but too much of it burns. You are alone, but not lonely, and the sound of their heart reminds you of your own. You yearn to grow and learn, but the lessons are dangerous.
These are the things to live for.
Written By Piccola
May 31, 2020, 8:13 p.m.(5/22/1013 AR)
I find myself drowning my insecurities in mead these nights.
I was reminded the other night that, for whatever problems I have, there are others who have it worse. Much worse.
At least I have a place to stay. A family to talk to. And people around here who don't seem to give a shit who I am or where I come from.
It could be much worse, I guess.
Well, at least the mead is good around here.
I was reminded the other night that, for whatever problems I have, there are others who have it worse. Much worse.
At least I have a place to stay. A family to talk to. And people around here who don't seem to give a shit who I am or where I come from.
It could be much worse, I guess.
Well, at least the mead is good around here.
Written By Piccola
May 27, 2020, 4:58 p.m.(5/14/1013 AR)
My efforts towards addressing the young poor of the city seem to be moving well.
I may have prejudged my new peers more than I ought to have. It does not take much convincing to have them open their coffers or doors to children in need. This is a good thing.
Perhaps it is a sign of how times have changed.
Not that the poor have any reason to trust them. Or me. But if this enterprise is as successful as it can be, perhaps there is hope that a bridge between the commons and the nobility can be built.
That would be worth more than anything I have ever done.
I may have prejudged my new peers more than I ought to have. It does not take much convincing to have them open their coffers or doors to children in need. This is a good thing.
Perhaps it is a sign of how times have changed.
Not that the poor have any reason to trust them. Or me. But if this enterprise is as successful as it can be, perhaps there is hope that a bridge between the commons and the nobility can be built.
That would be worth more than anything I have ever done.
Written By Piccola
May 26, 2020, 9:11 a.m.(5/11/1013 AR)
It never changes.
No matter how splendid or prosperous, a city will always have children who suffer. You can try your hardest to make sure that stone does not set in their heart, but it is an inevitability. They will always bear the brunt of the sins of their parents.
Maybe I can do something this time.
What can I do? Will my cousin let me play the poor knight whilst she plots and gambles for our House's future? In this storm of tiaras and talk, what place is there in a court for a sellsword?
I think I will never understand her decision.
No matter how splendid or prosperous, a city will always have children who suffer. You can try your hardest to make sure that stone does not set in their heart, but it is an inevitability. They will always bear the brunt of the sins of their parents.
Maybe I can do something this time.
What can I do? Will my cousin let me play the poor knight whilst she plots and gambles for our House's future? In this storm of tiaras and talk, what place is there in a court for a sellsword?
I think I will never understand her decision.
Written By Piccola
May 23, 2020, 9:02 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
I awoke in a daze this morning, comfortably laid out in a muddy alley.
I'm quite certain as to how I got there. A mixture of wistfulness and mead produces the sort of misery that usually leads to the gutter. Although I don't remember much of the evening before, I remember the good company I had prior the stupor I started the day in.
I did not think I would miss it as much as I do.
My nerves, blunted, feel fine. I feel fine. I feel better than I have in a long time. There is something lively about having the scent of dirt wedged into your nostrils. It is the most familiar smell I have sensed since coming to this city. I intend to become better acquainted with it.
I think I will ride my horse this afternoon, when I can keep food down.
I'm quite certain as to how I got there. A mixture of wistfulness and mead produces the sort of misery that usually leads to the gutter. Although I don't remember much of the evening before, I remember the good company I had prior the stupor I started the day in.
I did not think I would miss it as much as I do.
My nerves, blunted, feel fine. I feel fine. I feel better than I have in a long time. There is something lively about having the scent of dirt wedged into your nostrils. It is the most familiar smell I have sensed since coming to this city. I intend to become better acquainted with it.
I think I will ride my horse this afternoon, when I can keep food down.
Written By Piccola
May 20, 2020, 8:41 p.m.(4/28/1013 AR)
I have not had sleep in two nights.
It should have been easy. Two days ago, the Marquessa invited me into her villa, provided a room, and gave me the command she promised. My response was probably less gracious than it should have been, but I gave what I could muster at the time. I took the rest of the day to meet the men, and they seem sturdy and capable. The bed was comfortable, and I ate my fill.
I could not sleep.
The next day, I awoke, and took a run. Three times did I run about the quarter; three times I took aim in the training center. I was exhausted, so I took the time to walk back to the villa to prepare. A servant had suggested a dress, but it was tight and uncomfortable. I went to dinner; I met Cosimo and Nurie for the first time since I left Iriscal; and I met Prince Gaspar for a second time.
I still could not sleep.
I know not what gives my spirit anxiety. Perhaps it is the city itself – it is vast and daunting – which is as different from Iriscal as the woods and plains. I feel the need to leap upon my horse and ride away from here, as far as I can. But to give up what has been freely given is a craven’s foolishness, and I am not so divorced from my family that I have forgotten my first lesson.
**Osiamo**.
It should have been easy. Two days ago, the Marquessa invited me into her villa, provided a room, and gave me the command she promised. My response was probably less gracious than it should have been, but I gave what I could muster at the time. I took the rest of the day to meet the men, and they seem sturdy and capable. The bed was comfortable, and I ate my fill.
I could not sleep.
The next day, I awoke, and took a run. Three times did I run about the quarter; three times I took aim in the training center. I was exhausted, so I took the time to walk back to the villa to prepare. A servant had suggested a dress, but it was tight and uncomfortable. I went to dinner; I met Cosimo and Nurie for the first time since I left Iriscal; and I met Prince Gaspar for a second time.
I still could not sleep.
I know not what gives my spirit anxiety. Perhaps it is the city itself – it is vast and daunting – which is as different from Iriscal as the woods and plains. I feel the need to leap upon my horse and ride away from here, as far as I can. But to give up what has been freely given is a craven’s foolishness, and I am not so divorced from my family that I have forgotten my first lesson.
**Osiamo**.
Written By Piccola
May 20, 2020, 7:44 p.m.(4/28/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Nurie
She is always there to pick up the pieces left behind, but it is hard not to think about what advantage that affords her.
Written By Piccola
May 20, 2020, 7:43 p.m.(4/28/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Cosimo
Sabine's brother was always different than her, but that does not mean his spirit is moved differently.
Written By Piccola
May 20, 2020, 7:40 p.m.(4/28/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Sabine
Her peaceful nature makes it easier to forget what her mother did to me, but her faith in me is both disconcerting and suspicious.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.