Written By Cassima
Feb. 9, 2022, 6:45 p.m.(2/3/1017 AR)
The amount of dust that I've accumulated from sequestering myself within the archives is starting to weigh down upon my shoulders giving me a rather painful slouch. My eyes are beginning to bleed together the many textual references until it's just a messy tapestry of failed wordplay.
I need a reprieve that comes with a drink.
I need a reprieve that comes with a drink.
Written By Orland
Feb. 9, 2022, 2:25 p.m.(2/2/1017 AR)
Thoughts of a student.... a famous soldier,.... a veteran.... thoughts of Bastion.
I sit back and recall the attack on Bastion, the sights and sounds of what happened during the attack... ships flying through the air, large enemies with magical weapons, giant centipedes... hoards of Shavs spilling in around the open walls with barbaric weapons meant to rip asunder any who stood before them, the fires, the screams of the dying... the buildings collapsing...
It's all very hard to shake, those mental images and sounds. It's harder still to write about them. I'm not the best at writing anymore. I never really kept up with my daily devotions and it's a hard habit to get into. Yet, there's something that's happened to me during the fall of Bastion to the victory that won it back, which is worth noting, for me at least.
Before it fell, I look back and I guess I see myself as arrogant to life. Back then, I felt that I had all the time I could ever possibly want to have. I am a young man, with a world of time ahead of me, right? So why wouldn't I think that. I also felt like, there were only a few in my life that had ever really cared for me, like Duarte. I was distrustful with most people, I used them to my advantage as they used me. It was a trade off, mostly, in every interaction I had with people. They wanted something of me or from me, so I made sure to get something of equal value back. Like, going to fight in the War of Two Queens, if I'm honest, it was because I didn't want to be some abyssal meat served up for some wacko that wanted my blood. And Tremorus? Yes, I think even there was an underlying selfishness I didn't recognize before...
Being so near death in Bastion's fall, had awoken something in me that I didn't acknowledge before. What it was, was an understanding that I have no control over my destiny in the way of how much time I have left to live. I have choices, certainly, to go or not to go on a dangerous mission, but I cannot control where an arrow flies or when a wall crumbles on top of me. I wasn't invincible, I could perish as easily as anyone I fought along side of or against.
After Bastion, the risks I took were more calculated, more designed to have a purpose behind them. I thought of all those people who I saw die, and other days, for what? Was it their destiny to have some centipede rip through their homes and crush them? Was it their destiny to have Shavs raid their houses and homes and hold them captive? Did they really have a choice here? They were living in Bastion, that was their choice. They were making choice everyday to have a good life and then the enemy struck out, took their light from this world... stole their potential, ended their stories...
I've had so many meaningful interactions since the fall of Bastion, I don't know where to begin. Yet, I felt, I understood what the obligation of my life was, and it isn't to party endlessly and gamble and drink... while those things are fun, and still a good way to celebrate, I feel like... I'm no longer the boy I was. I feel like... what I do, now, has shifted. What I did after Bastion, was no longer just for me. It was for each and every person that couldn't be there any longer to tell their stories. It was for the dead and it was to protect the living. It clicked with me, why people fight in wars. I remember asking Andromeda that once, why she does it... Did it take me that long to really figure it out? Truthfully? Yes. I guess it did...
I went back to Bastion, several times. I went back first, to scout in the noble district. We captured some people there, with fancy feathers. I managed to rescue some kitties too... I was part of the questioning, though I don't remember much of that, truth be told. Then I went back again, to try and locate a woman that some call to be a mage. We didn't find her, but maybe we'll get lucky in time yet to come. Then I went back a further time, to free prisoners that were stuck in Bastion. We managed to get out half of those who were kept there, against all odds, we got them out. And then... I went back to fight to reclaim the city.
I went back because I knew in my heart it was the right thing to do. I wanted to help see all those who died in Bastion have their stories avenged. I will live for them, but I will fight for them. I will help bring justice, in whatever ways I can.
In the fight itself, I chose to save a woman. I didn't know her name. I didn't know the first thing about her. She was standing up and giving the troops around her a boost of morale. I saw what I saw. A glimpse of opportunity to throw her out of the way, a way to save her life. I found out later her name was Duchess Lisebet Ashford. I had coffee with her. And I was really, honestly, down to my core, happy to have had that chance with her. Imagine our world without her story in it?
I've changed a lot since Bastion fell.
I sit back and recall the attack on Bastion, the sights and sounds of what happened during the attack... ships flying through the air, large enemies with magical weapons, giant centipedes... hoards of Shavs spilling in around the open walls with barbaric weapons meant to rip asunder any who stood before them, the fires, the screams of the dying... the buildings collapsing...
It's all very hard to shake, those mental images and sounds. It's harder still to write about them. I'm not the best at writing anymore. I never really kept up with my daily devotions and it's a hard habit to get into. Yet, there's something that's happened to me during the fall of Bastion to the victory that won it back, which is worth noting, for me at least.
Before it fell, I look back and I guess I see myself as arrogant to life. Back then, I felt that I had all the time I could ever possibly want to have. I am a young man, with a world of time ahead of me, right? So why wouldn't I think that. I also felt like, there were only a few in my life that had ever really cared for me, like Duarte. I was distrustful with most people, I used them to my advantage as they used me. It was a trade off, mostly, in every interaction I had with people. They wanted something of me or from me, so I made sure to get something of equal value back. Like, going to fight in the War of Two Queens, if I'm honest, it was because I didn't want to be some abyssal meat served up for some wacko that wanted my blood. And Tremorus? Yes, I think even there was an underlying selfishness I didn't recognize before...
Being so near death in Bastion's fall, had awoken something in me that I didn't acknowledge before. What it was, was an understanding that I have no control over my destiny in the way of how much time I have left to live. I have choices, certainly, to go or not to go on a dangerous mission, but I cannot control where an arrow flies or when a wall crumbles on top of me. I wasn't invincible, I could perish as easily as anyone I fought along side of or against.
After Bastion, the risks I took were more calculated, more designed to have a purpose behind them. I thought of all those people who I saw die, and other days, for what? Was it their destiny to have some centipede rip through their homes and crush them? Was it their destiny to have Shavs raid their houses and homes and hold them captive? Did they really have a choice here? They were living in Bastion, that was their choice. They were making choice everyday to have a good life and then the enemy struck out, took their light from this world... stole their potential, ended their stories...
I've had so many meaningful interactions since the fall of Bastion, I don't know where to begin. Yet, I felt, I understood what the obligation of my life was, and it isn't to party endlessly and gamble and drink... while those things are fun, and still a good way to celebrate, I feel like... I'm no longer the boy I was. I feel like... what I do, now, has shifted. What I did after Bastion, was no longer just for me. It was for each and every person that couldn't be there any longer to tell their stories. It was for the dead and it was to protect the living. It clicked with me, why people fight in wars. I remember asking Andromeda that once, why she does it... Did it take me that long to really figure it out? Truthfully? Yes. I guess it did...
I went back to Bastion, several times. I went back first, to scout in the noble district. We captured some people there, with fancy feathers. I managed to rescue some kitties too... I was part of the questioning, though I don't remember much of that, truth be told. Then I went back again, to try and locate a woman that some call to be a mage. We didn't find her, but maybe we'll get lucky in time yet to come. Then I went back a further time, to free prisoners that were stuck in Bastion. We managed to get out half of those who were kept there, against all odds, we got them out. And then... I went back to fight to reclaim the city.
I went back because I knew in my heart it was the right thing to do. I wanted to help see all those who died in Bastion have their stories avenged. I will live for them, but I will fight for them. I will help bring justice, in whatever ways I can.
In the fight itself, I chose to save a woman. I didn't know her name. I didn't know the first thing about her. She was standing up and giving the troops around her a boost of morale. I saw what I saw. A glimpse of opportunity to throw her out of the way, a way to save her life. I found out later her name was Duchess Lisebet Ashford. I had coffee with her. And I was really, honestly, down to my core, happy to have had that chance with her. Imagine our world without her story in it?
I've changed a lot since Bastion fell.
Written By Lark
Feb. 9, 2022, 11:55 a.m.(2/2/1017 AR)
Not to make this about me but I just found out I've been calling our cousin "Swervelio" for the last decade instead of his real name, which is… sorry, *was* "Swelvio." Why didn't he ever correct me?
Written By Lisebet
Feb. 9, 2022, 7:57 a.m.(2/2/1017 AR)
Dominus Aureth held a well attended event at the shrine of Gild the other day. It was an interesting activity of building up towers in teams and then switching to pull blocks out without knocking the tower down.
The illustration of civilization and what happens when its foundations are not well built or are undercut.
I very much appreciated the opportunity to think about Gild and how some things we take for granted might be more important than we think.
The illustration of civilization and what happens when its foundations are not well built or are undercut.
I very much appreciated the opportunity to think about Gild and how some things we take for granted might be more important than we think.
Written By Aedric
Feb. 8, 2022, 10:44 p.m.(2/1/1017 AR)
It is no secret that governance requires grit. Decisions made by officials in positions of power should be dispassionate in nature and often come at the expense of another. This is, of course, why neutral political language is used by magistrates and military commanders when they prepare their orders and decrees.
Commonly seen are "pacification" or "render inoperative" in place of "to annihilate, kill, or destroy".
More frequent still: "administration" in place of "to reign, oversee, or adjudicate".
Justification for these actions, even if cruel or inhumane, is always written in a manner to excuse the behavior while at the same time indicating far-reaching implications of inaction.
Here it is not uncommon to read: "for the sake of the common good", "in order to preserve the status quo", or even "in the interests of".
All of this to say that "order" is perfectly synonymous with organized violence. Things begin to fall apart when you read too deeply into the meanings behind words scribbled on an official document.
Commonly seen are "pacification" or "render inoperative" in place of "to annihilate, kill, or destroy".
More frequent still: "administration" in place of "to reign, oversee, or adjudicate".
Justification for these actions, even if cruel or inhumane, is always written in a manner to excuse the behavior while at the same time indicating far-reaching implications of inaction.
Here it is not uncommon to read: "for the sake of the common good", "in order to preserve the status quo", or even "in the interests of".
All of this to say that "order" is perfectly synonymous with organized violence. Things begin to fall apart when you read too deeply into the meanings behind words scribbled on an official document.
Written By Mailys
Feb. 8, 2022, 8:29 p.m.(2/1/1017 AR)
I have watched far too much
snow subliming on the water
against that ship across this
slip. I can hear the sizzle of
heat, burning up each flake,
and a seizing crackle of ice
depositing, creeping up the
hull. It seems the snow may
endlessly threaten the safe
harbor's dangled bait, rising
each dawn towards nothing.
A horizon need nothing, but
the warm promise of escape.
The rejection of freedom has
surrendered the ship to slow
but tenacious binding. Like a
serpent already brimful, but
helpless to insatiable caprice.
snow subliming on the water
against that ship across this
slip. I can hear the sizzle of
heat, burning up each flake,
and a seizing crackle of ice
depositing, creeping up the
hull. It seems the snow may
endlessly threaten the safe
harbor's dangled bait, rising
each dawn towards nothing.
A horizon need nothing, but
the warm promise of escape.
The rejection of freedom has
surrendered the ship to slow
but tenacious binding. Like a
serpent already brimful, but
helpless to insatiable caprice.
Written By Viviana
Feb. 8, 2022, 5:33 p.m.(2/1/1017 AR)
In those oceanic eyes, not by color -- but vastness -- so deep -- that gaze. So deep.
Too deep.
You see things. Fucked if that doesn't sound like the most cloying thing I have ever committed to my Whites
-- but there you have it.
Too deep.
You see things. Fucked if that doesn't sound like the most cloying thing I have ever committed to my Whites
-- but there you have it.
Written By Valencia
Feb. 8, 2022, 12:50 p.m.(1/28/1017 AR)
The final chapter of the Refugee Charity Tournament hosted by the Ambassador Bahiya'al'mathali of the Eurusi Consulate, Princes Kenjay of Redrain and Patrizio of Pravus at the Hart was again a triumph. Truly, to see such talent and skill upon the sands for such a good cause is always a tremendous thrill.
My compliments and thanks to the noble Ambassador and the good Princes of Pravus and Redrain for their most successful event.
My thanks to finalists and all those who competed as well. The finalists, Archlector Porter of Kennex, Sir Corban of Telmar, Lord Haakon of Eswynd and Lord Ian of Kennex, are all men of great talent and esteem and the matches were fierce ones indeed. In the end, it was Lord Ian who prevailed, a well earned title considering his match on the field.
The show of such good sport and comradery was beautiful to see as was the good spirits of all in attendance. It was wonderful to witness such good cheer and a great deal of cheering that filled the arena from floor to ceiling.
Of special note, I wish to deeply thank all those who donated to the cause. Such gifts are so vital in ensuring the well being and strength of all in our Compact. The generosity that I am sure was shared is truly something to honour and be inspired by.
I'm so glad to have had this signature event of the season held at my Hart, and am very much looking forward to the upcoming Refugee Charity Archery Tournament. If this series of tourneys is any indication, it, too, should be a spectacular event.
~~~~~~~~~~~<~<~<@
My compliments and thanks to the noble Ambassador and the good Princes of Pravus and Redrain for their most successful event.
My thanks to finalists and all those who competed as well. The finalists, Archlector Porter of Kennex, Sir Corban of Telmar, Lord Haakon of Eswynd and Lord Ian of Kennex, are all men of great talent and esteem and the matches were fierce ones indeed. In the end, it was Lord Ian who prevailed, a well earned title considering his match on the field.
The show of such good sport and comradery was beautiful to see as was the good spirits of all in attendance. It was wonderful to witness such good cheer and a great deal of cheering that filled the arena from floor to ceiling.
Of special note, I wish to deeply thank all those who donated to the cause. Such gifts are so vital in ensuring the well being and strength of all in our Compact. The generosity that I am sure was shared is truly something to honour and be inspired by.
I'm so glad to have had this signature event of the season held at my Hart, and am very much looking forward to the upcoming Refugee Charity Archery Tournament. If this series of tourneys is any indication, it, too, should be a spectacular event.
~~~~~~~~~~~<~<~<@
Written By Auda
Feb. 8, 2022, 12:15 p.m.(1/28/1017 AR)
There's little that compares with the rush of a successful opening night-- and less that compares with the afterparty.
Written By Viviana
Feb. 8, 2022, 7:46 a.m.(1/28/1017 AR)
I bought that pendant --
-- a lovely reminder that death is inevitable.
Like taxes, lawyers, and tired jokes.
-- a lovely reminder that death is inevitable.
Like taxes, lawyers, and tired jokes.
Written By Medeia
Feb. 8, 2022, 2:17 a.m.(1/27/1017 AR)
What a spectacular tournament Ambassador Bahiya held! I missed the first round, much to my chagrin, but I was able to catch the second round and then the final round. I almost did not - it is quite the feat to navigate these snowy streets with a cane. However, I could not miss the chance to see my husband compete against Lord Ian Kennex. Isles men fight hard! Haakon came away with a bloody lip and placed second overall. Lord Ian earned that victory. Sir Corban Telmar and Blessed Porter Kennex came in third and fourth, respectively. Their match was close! I suppose it is to be expected when the First Captain of the King's Own and a former Knight of Solace turned Archlector of Gild face one another. Their talent and skill is admirable. The Compact is served well by all of these men.
The Golden Hart's arena is such a grand space for athletic endeavors. Valencia's work and attention to detail is always appreciated. The very first event I ever held in the city was in that arena! Sitting beside Countess Thea and teasing one another felt so much like those early days in the city. And Marquis Oskar has returned from Eswynd Rock, joining us to watch the tournament. It is good to have him in the city again.
This has been a much needed bit of levity after the events that unfolded at the Blackshore wedding. I am grateful for having had the opportunity. I hear the ambassador is planning another tournament for archery - that should be as enjoyable as this one was.
The Golden Hart's arena is such a grand space for athletic endeavors. Valencia's work and attention to detail is always appreciated. The very first event I ever held in the city was in that arena! Sitting beside Countess Thea and teasing one another felt so much like those early days in the city. And Marquis Oskar has returned from Eswynd Rock, joining us to watch the tournament. It is good to have him in the city again.
This has been a much needed bit of levity after the events that unfolded at the Blackshore wedding. I am grateful for having had the opportunity. I hear the ambassador is planning another tournament for archery - that should be as enjoyable as this one was.
Written By Monique
Feb. 8, 2022, 1 a.m.(1/27/1017 AR)
Too good to me. Too good, in general, for his own good. But I wouldn't have it any other way. And while all the fighters were exceptional at the charity Tournament at the Hart, I know who I cheered the loudest for.
Written By Renata
Feb. 8, 2022, 12:52 a.m.(1/27/1017 AR)
The sea voyage from Setarco to Arx was not something I ever wish to repeat. It is bad enough in the summer, knowing the vastness of the sea, while calm, is still full of peril. But in the winter, it's a heaving, tossing, melancholy terror. I kept to my cabin the entire time and slept as much as I could, which was precious little.
Still. I have arrived and my first journey into the city was met with a much more pleasant experience. The Ambassador Salon was just as I remember it, full of engaging discourse and luminary people. My evening was spent over mulled wine in the Butterfly Lounge with the kindest of company. And the reception of an invitation to meet for further conversation only served to make my first day all the sweeter.
And I know I have only just arrived but already I plan for all the good that might be done while I am here. There was talk of auctioning experiences for the benefit of charity. What a novel thought! I'll start making a list right away, and carry it with me on the fortunate happenstance I stumble across experiences to add.
Still. I have arrived and my first journey into the city was met with a much more pleasant experience. The Ambassador Salon was just as I remember it, full of engaging discourse and luminary people. My evening was spent over mulled wine in the Butterfly Lounge with the kindest of company. And the reception of an invitation to meet for further conversation only served to make my first day all the sweeter.
And I know I have only just arrived but already I plan for all the good that might be done while I am here. There was talk of auctioning experiences for the benefit of charity. What a novel thought! I'll start making a list right away, and carry it with me on the fortunate happenstance I stumble across experiences to add.
Written By Audrey
Feb. 7, 2022, 11:38 p.m.(1/27/1017 AR)
And so here I am, back in Arx again. After a walk around the city it seems much the same as ever, but that's reassuring somehow, in a world where everything else seems dizzyingly -- sometimes terrifyingly -- in flux.
With the way the winter snows have kept on, it's also good to have a real roof instead of just canvas over my head again. Even if this room does give me the nagging feeling sometimes of being an actor living inside a stage set. But it's dry and warm and has never yet collapsed on me in the night under a gathering heap of snow, so I feel I owe it my gratitude.
With the way the winter snows have kept on, it's also good to have a real roof instead of just canvas over my head again. Even if this room does give me the nagging feeling sometimes of being an actor living inside a stage set. But it's dry and warm and has never yet collapsed on me in the night under a gathering heap of snow, so I feel I owe it my gratitude.
Written By Titus
Feb. 7, 2022, 8:24 p.m.(1/27/1017 AR)
The final words of lord Macdon Castelus, Sword of the North and first Lord Commander of the Queen's Own, are a prime and inspiring example of loyal and faithful devotion to duty to the end.
Written By Tanith
Feb. 7, 2022, 5:56 p.m.(1/27/1017 AR)
It's a relief to see him sit up and smile and walk and smile more and sit at the table and eat and only wince once (and that's because he forgot his ribs were broken and lunged to grab the salt when I accidentally knocked it off the table). I had a lot of help, too; I'd never have been able to do this without it. It's a relief, though.
No, I'm not crying. Don't put that in there. I don't cry.
No, I'm not crying. Don't put that in there. I don't cry.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 7, 2022, 5:40 p.m.(1/27/1017 AR)
I am available as a model for hair ornaments for worthy causes or donations to Faith projects, of course.
Written By Giada
Feb. 7, 2022, 11:15 a.m.(1/26/1017 AR)
All this motherfucking clapping is giving me a headache.
Written By Thesbe
Feb. 7, 2022, 8:24 a.m.(1/26/1017 AR)
I didn't sleep much tonight scholar. Maybe because of the constant mewing from cats. And no, it wasn't Linx this time. He was curled up in my bed sleeping.... no, it was the countless cats my sister hoards out in our stables... Yeah that's right, she hoards cats... Also, why does she have a cat skull chandelier in our house????
Written By Aedric
Feb. 6, 2022, 10:23 p.m.(1/25/1017 AR)
I was eighteen when I received my first injury at sea. We were boarded in the dead of night by Shav'arvani south of Highhill. These pirates, inexperienced combatants, were pitted against a crew of men and women who had previously served my father as sailors and marines. Veterans as skilled with shortblades and axes as they were with tying ropes and rowing. The melee concluded quickly. I saw the blood before I could identify the source of the bleeding. A laceration several inches long but only centimeters deep.
Reflecting on this memory, I realize now that I was aware of the wound before I even recognized the pain. The pool of scarlet, inky beneath the night sky, had shown me.
The blood knew. The blood knows.
Reflecting on this memory, I realize now that I was aware of the wound before I even recognized the pain. The pool of scarlet, inky beneath the night sky, had shown me.
The blood knew. The blood knows.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.