Written By Gwenna
Jan. 14, 2018, 6:02 p.m.(12/20/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Astraea
I had nearly forgotten what a truly stunning presence my cousin is. Stunning in a way beyond just her beauty, of course; she has an easy warmth and light that feels like being near a hearth fire despite her seemingly icy coloring. Even though we are nearly the same in age, I've always rather looked up to her. She makes me laugh with hardly an effort and it's like home is just a bit closer when she's around. Perhaps because we were close when we were younger, it was almost like no time had passed at all when we finally managed to be in the same place at the same time today. I am beyond glad that we share a city again!
Written By Astraea
Jan. 14, 2018, 5:41 p.m.(12/20/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Caelis
I sure hope some of that forgiveness trickles down this way...
Written By Astraea
Jan. 14, 2018, 5:40 p.m.(12/20/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Marian
You're one of my idols. With the times as they are you know I mean it when I say please don't die!
Written By Caelis
Jan. 14, 2018, 5:35 p.m.(12/20/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Edain
I have the most amazing, considerate, forgiving husband.
He's so sweet and kind.
Please don't be cross with me dearest.
He's so sweet and kind.
Please don't be cross with me dearest.
Written By Astraea
Jan. 14, 2018, 5:20 p.m.(12/20/1007 AR)
My older sister is coming to town too? Now that's five for five. My time as a champion of the training center is coming to a close.
She'll figure out a way to strategically organize a counter-assault mid bout. Then I'll be outta luck. Alas. I love her too much to care!
Swift travels and may Gild be with you.
She'll figure out a way to strategically organize a counter-assault mid bout. Then I'll be outta luck. Alas. I love her too much to care!
Swift travels and may Gild be with you.
Written By Leola
Jan. 14, 2018, 5:01 p.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
I'm getting frustrated with Brier. She's smart and quick, but she's just not learning anymore, getting any better. I genuinely don't know what to do - I'm devoting my time to her, ensuring her feed and training is the best I know how to give her. She's in good condition, but she can still improve, and I'm dratted if I know how to do it.
Written By Orathy
Jan. 14, 2018, 4:05 p.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Aerandir
**A scholar dictates**
I ain't knowing why Cyrus be thinking your journal be worth something eh. But there it were, being shoved under me nose.
Your purpose son? Aye, reckon it is to die, but before you die, you best work your ass off and make someone above you more wealthy. Reckon that be the lot of it.
Between being born and dying, you get to make choices of how you live, granted the choices we be allotted ain't many if you be of common blood. But aye son, hold a woman close, or two or three. Get fit, have fun doing it. Drink, gamble, piss away silver. Aye, but if you want to be leaving a legacy behind, reckon you be needing to take up a wife and leave something behind in way of a git. Nay, even then, after your kid have kids and them kids have kids, no one going to be remembering you or what you be doing. You be having to come to terms with it. The more you get caught up with finding purpose the less you be able to enjoy the world around ya. Aye, the world is shit and it might not have much to offer fellas like us, those born without a fancy name. But there be some joy to it. A bottle of whiskey, a kiss to a pretty lass, being able to best a fancy silkie in the fighting ring...
We ain't get to be choosing where we be born or to whom or what life style we get. The Wheel shat us out at the low end of the world and it be a damn struggle to get anywhere better than where we started. Reckon I have grey in me beard and I just be getting a comfortable bed to sleep on not a few years back. And that bed, was worth the fucking struggle. Gods it be softer than a ladies pampered arse.
At the end, we only get to be choosing how we die. Fight a war for some noble prick if you want. Fight to protect those who ain't be skilled to protect themselves, like many in the lowers. Fuck for fun. Fuck for love. Dance. Get drunk. Be an care-free arsehole. Still, if you be wanting to be some famous bastard that gets a statue at the end, ain't sure how to help. Reality is, all them nobles are fighting to get their image cut in stone, and there be a whole fucking city of 'em.
Reckon you be figuring it out soon enough.
I ain't knowing why Cyrus be thinking your journal be worth something eh. But there it were, being shoved under me nose.
Your purpose son? Aye, reckon it is to die, but before you die, you best work your ass off and make someone above you more wealthy. Reckon that be the lot of it.
Between being born and dying, you get to make choices of how you live, granted the choices we be allotted ain't many if you be of common blood. But aye son, hold a woman close, or two or three. Get fit, have fun doing it. Drink, gamble, piss away silver. Aye, but if you want to be leaving a legacy behind, reckon you be needing to take up a wife and leave something behind in way of a git. Nay, even then, after your kid have kids and them kids have kids, no one going to be remembering you or what you be doing. You be having to come to terms with it. The more you get caught up with finding purpose the less you be able to enjoy the world around ya. Aye, the world is shit and it might not have much to offer fellas like us, those born without a fancy name. But there be some joy to it. A bottle of whiskey, a kiss to a pretty lass, being able to best a fancy silkie in the fighting ring...
We ain't get to be choosing where we be born or to whom or what life style we get. The Wheel shat us out at the low end of the world and it be a damn struggle to get anywhere better than where we started. Reckon I have grey in me beard and I just be getting a comfortable bed to sleep on not a few years back. And that bed, was worth the fucking struggle. Gods it be softer than a ladies pampered arse.
At the end, we only get to be choosing how we die. Fight a war for some noble prick if you want. Fight to protect those who ain't be skilled to protect themselves, like many in the lowers. Fuck for fun. Fuck for love. Dance. Get drunk. Be an care-free arsehole. Still, if you be wanting to be some famous bastard that gets a statue at the end, ain't sure how to help. Reality is, all them nobles are fighting to get their image cut in stone, and there be a whole fucking city of 'em.
Reckon you be figuring it out soon enough.
Written By Orathy
Jan. 14, 2018, 3:27 p.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Margerie
That smile. First class.
Written By Margerie
Jan. 14, 2018, 2:56 p.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
What a pleasure to watch so many participants at today's Gauntlet. We will all be touched by the battles we envision in the days to come, warriors and priests, artists and knights, young and old. Some of the performances were breathtaking for their skill. Some were awe inspiring for their spirited perseverance. But all that took part are to be admired.
Written By Orathy
Jan. 14, 2018, 2:50 p.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Reckon I bested a lot of youngins today at the Gauntlet.
Ain't winning, though I be taking silver. Aye, second. Silver. It fits.
Ain't winning, though I be taking silver. Aye, second. Silver. It fits.
Written By Margerie
Jan. 14, 2018, 2:49 p.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Derovai
Running Tally (edited)
The cost of one silk dress
A factor of three years
--Add a 0 to the end-- (Struckthrough)
I can only imagine that there should be a To Be Continued at the end of that list.
In time, we may make a charitable institution of you. May history remember you for your philanthropy.
And let being dizzily spun about be a lesson to you!
The cost of one silk dress
A factor of three years
--Add a 0 to the end-- (Struckthrough)
I can only imagine that there should be a To Be Continued at the end of that list.
In time, we may make a charitable institution of you. May history remember you for your philanthropy.
And let being dizzily spun about be a lesson to you!
Written By Darren
Jan. 14, 2018, 2:16 p.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Gwenna
See, my cousin Gwenny is definitely the trickster in the family. She'll kill you with kindness, with charm, with style... you'll think, "Oh, did a Southern noble find their way in to Redrain?" And then she says things like "OH SNOWBALLS" and "SON OF A MOTHERLESS BEAR" and I realize, nope, she's alllllll Northlands.
Written By Monique
Jan. 14, 2018, 1:10 p.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Clover
Duchess Farshaw. The bravest of us all. Duke Barton said it best, when he said (and mind you he wasn't very lucid when he said it), "We can't be silent, no, can't be silent at all."
... of course, he also said, "She neither fell nor was pushed, but she was the throne."
Some inspiration in the ramblings of a mad man.
... of course, he also said, "She neither fell nor was pushed, but she was the throne."
Some inspiration in the ramblings of a mad man.
Written By Talen
Jan. 14, 2018, 12:23 p.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
Make time.
Written By Calypso
Jan. 14, 2018, 11:33 a.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Aerandir
“Neither by chance, nor by fate.”
Forge a path for yourself confidently and let none take it from you.
Forge a path for yourself confidently and let none take it from you.
Written By Fergus
Jan. 14, 2018, 11:26 a.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
Wow.
Your life fucking sucks, apparently.
Your life fucking sucks, apparently.
Written By Eirene
Jan. 14, 2018, 11:25 a.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Fergus
I could respond in a messenger but since he did so in the journals I'm fucking obliged to respond the same.
Go suck a donkey and charge a silver for admission. I'm too busy to get drunk.
THAT IS MY LIFE RIGHT NOW.
Go suck a donkey and charge a silver for admission. I'm too busy to get drunk.
THAT IS MY LIFE RIGHT NOW.
Written By Aerandir
Jan. 14, 2018, 10:20 a.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
This evening I had some much-needed privacy as I lingered at the shrine of the Lost; few come there, and even fewer have the audacity to disturb the peace of the rare few stray souls that find their way within. I found myself staring to the skies in the confines of the walled area past the garden, waiting for the sun to rise.
I think that is how my thoughts strayed to the devout of Mangata that I crossed paths with not long ago. I recalled the shapely figure beneath her humble robes, and then I felt guilty for thinking about a holy woman in such a way. What kind of man am I?
I paced restlessly as another question - one that has been gnawing at my mind for some time - came to mind.
What is my purpose? Why do I exist?
I have never truly had to dwell on the notion of it before. Only men and women such as the High Lords have have a clear, undisputed purpose; only the peers do. I am but a servant.
But then, my brethren in arms used to talk of destiny, of fate; the endless tapestry woven by the gods. They were of common blood, too. They believed their talents with the sword, the spear; the greatsword and the bow were godsend, and used such inner penchants in service of their liege lords or the Crown. So certain were they in their purpose in life that they left sons and daughters without fathers, wives without husbands.
Is this my purpose, to serve dutifully in service of the Crown, to perish safeguarding the Realm from this otherworldly threat? Perhaps. It is the choice I have made all these years, to serve. But a part of me wonders if I would even be remembered fondly, missed, for I have spend the better part of my life cultivating my skills, and little more. Perhaps I have avoided intimacy, friendship. The life I lead in dutiful service is a perilous one. For a long time now I have feared that one of these days, my prowess will prove insufficient, and I have no desire to leave a little boy fatherless as a result. I think that day is approaching, and swiftly. They say, after all, that these foes can drive a man into the gaping maw of madness through a mere touch; that I may slit my own throat, or turn on my own in a craze.
It frightens me, to not only die, but to die in vain and in such a disgraceful way, harming good men and women; perhaps even those closest to me. I would never wish for grim tales of such an ending to reach my wife, children, nor to be known for this... ignominy.
But to bounce a son on my knee...
To hold a woman I love more than life...
What is my purpose? Why am I here? Is this it; is it too late?
I think that is how my thoughts strayed to the devout of Mangata that I crossed paths with not long ago. I recalled the shapely figure beneath her humble robes, and then I felt guilty for thinking about a holy woman in such a way. What kind of man am I?
I paced restlessly as another question - one that has been gnawing at my mind for some time - came to mind.
What is my purpose? Why do I exist?
I have never truly had to dwell on the notion of it before. Only men and women such as the High Lords have have a clear, undisputed purpose; only the peers do. I am but a servant.
But then, my brethren in arms used to talk of destiny, of fate; the endless tapestry woven by the gods. They were of common blood, too. They believed their talents with the sword, the spear; the greatsword and the bow were godsend, and used such inner penchants in service of their liege lords or the Crown. So certain were they in their purpose in life that they left sons and daughters without fathers, wives without husbands.
Is this my purpose, to serve dutifully in service of the Crown, to perish safeguarding the Realm from this otherworldly threat? Perhaps. It is the choice I have made all these years, to serve. But a part of me wonders if I would even be remembered fondly, missed, for I have spend the better part of my life cultivating my skills, and little more. Perhaps I have avoided intimacy, friendship. The life I lead in dutiful service is a perilous one. For a long time now I have feared that one of these days, my prowess will prove insufficient, and I have no desire to leave a little boy fatherless as a result. I think that day is approaching, and swiftly. They say, after all, that these foes can drive a man into the gaping maw of madness through a mere touch; that I may slit my own throat, or turn on my own in a craze.
It frightens me, to not only die, but to die in vain and in such a disgraceful way, harming good men and women; perhaps even those closest to me. I would never wish for grim tales of such an ending to reach my wife, children, nor to be known for this... ignominy.
But to bounce a son on my knee...
To hold a woman I love more than life...
What is my purpose? Why am I here? Is this it; is it too late?
Written By Malesh
Jan. 14, 2018, 9:50 a.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
I suppose I am under obligation to note in my journals that my brother Gailin has been wed. Having granted him a County for his service in reclaiming that land, his new house has begun to grow with the welcome addition of Countess-Consort Titania. Soon I can hope my children will have cousins to play with as well.
Written By Christine
Jan. 14, 2018, 9:33 a.m.(12/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Isabetta
One day I'll know what's inside that mind of yours...
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.