Written By Khanne
Jan. 3, 2018, 10:51 a.m.(11/23/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Shard
I have to disagree, Shard.
Heroes most definitely do exist. They have, since the beginning, if you ask me.
They are heroes for a reason, and that reason may vary. Some might say that a person saving another person's life is a hero. Even if that person did so out of a sense of responsibility or duty (or even pay). Some... might say that, Shard.
...someone, might be saying that now.
But. Being a hero does not make a person infallible. Heroes have faults, just like anyone else, so in that, yes, expecting a person, even a hero, to be flawless not only leads to problems, but is foolish.
People are People in the end... but some people are heroes.
Heroes most definitely do exist. They have, since the beginning, if you ask me.
They are heroes for a reason, and that reason may vary. Some might say that a person saving another person's life is a hero. Even if that person did so out of a sense of responsibility or duty (or even pay). Some... might say that, Shard.
...someone, might be saying that now.
But. Being a hero does not make a person infallible. Heroes have faults, just like anyone else, so in that, yes, expecting a person, even a hero, to be flawless not only leads to problems, but is foolish.
People are People in the end... but some people are heroes.
Written By Khanne
Jan. 3, 2018, 10:42 a.m.(11/23/1007 AR)
"The beauty of the soul is constant, continuous, and endless."
Written By Sparte
Jan. 3, 2018, 10:31 a.m.(11/23/1007 AR)
I have gotten mixed responses for my paper fleet idea. I'm aware it is childish, but that isn't always a condemnation of something. I'm hoping we can come together for so simple of a thing.
Written By Gwenna
Jan. 3, 2018, 10:10 a.m.(11/23/1007 AR)
I had occasion to catch up with cousins I have not seen in what feels a lifetime, as well as meet the famed Dame Morrighan and a Valardin prince.
It is both wonderful and maddening to know Prince Kieran has not changed a bit from childhood, though I swear appropriately horrible revenge if I ever see one frog in the villa. I had half a mind to bribe the staff into keeping him away from my room, but it’d be pointless; he’d charm them to his whim despite it. Princess Echo I don’t think I’ve seen since the wedding but get the feeling we could truly be quick and close friends beyond our family ties.
Just when those tinges of homesickness start to settle over me, the fates somehow conspire to send me reminders that Arx, too, has many joys to offer and make me glad to be here.
It is both wonderful and maddening to know Prince Kieran has not changed a bit from childhood, though I swear appropriately horrible revenge if I ever see one frog in the villa. I had half a mind to bribe the staff into keeping him away from my room, but it’d be pointless; he’d charm them to his whim despite it. Princess Echo I don’t think I’ve seen since the wedding but get the feeling we could truly be quick and close friends beyond our family ties.
Just when those tinges of homesickness start to settle over me, the fates somehow conspire to send me reminders that Arx, too, has many joys to offer and make me glad to be here.
Written By Carita
Jan. 3, 2018, 10:07 a.m.(11/23/1007 AR)
Darling, Scholar, allow me to say: I truly believe that I may have missed my calling —
Written By Leona
Jan. 3, 2018, 10:05 a.m.(11/23/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Aislin
Our paths didn't cross until recently. She was busy adventuring, I was busy with the Hundred. But when we did meet, and when we first got a good look at each other it was - she was - well. She was my friend. My confidante. Someone I could laugh with, someone I could be myself around. She knew me, knew my struggles, and had good advice for them more often than not. The last time I saw her she came to grieve for Killian. We shared drinks and memories. We talked. We planned - an adventure and some evenings together, quietly talking under the stars.
I hope she is not dead. I hope she is on another adventure. I hope to see her again - ideally on this side of the Wheel.
I miss her already.
I hope she is not dead. I hope she is on another adventure. I hope to see her again - ideally on this side of the Wheel.
I miss her already.
Written By Evaine
Jan. 3, 2018, 9:30 a.m.(11/23/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Tobias
I just think it's funny that these big bad boys with their -ten whole years- of experience of the -horrors of war- are so willing to spout off about it to people they've never met. He never even asked my name, just called me 'Dear' and patronized me. He never even asked my name. He just assumed. And you know what happens when you assume.
Does that mean he wants to play? Maybe I'll show him the real horrors of war.
Does that mean he wants to play? Maybe I'll show him the real horrors of war.
Written By Aerandir
Jan. 3, 2018, 5:11 a.m.(11/23/1007 AR)
Excerpt from the Warriors of the Lyceum, a book in progress by I, Aerandir Elensar of Southport.
From childhood on, we hear tales of heroes in times of war. Their bravery and prowess become shining examples of the strength and glory that the Compact can achieve. Then, as childhood disappears, so do our dreams. How can battle prowess be any example to the life of a merchant?
We forget that these heroes live their life the same way as they fight their battle. As we can learn from them in battle, so can we learn from them to live and brave our challenges in life with all our heart. This book describes the ways of the warriors of Lyceum so they may be an example to us in life.
How is this to be interpreted, then? It may be in two ways; there is the literal sense, where warriors of the Lyceum are trained by similar principles for their warfare, but there is also the metaphorical sense, in which battles are challenges in life; where enemies are our own doubts and fears, and the path is the road to enlightenment and following our dreams.
The book is considered a work in progress. Not because it is incomplete, but simply because the path it describes is infinite and the wisdom of the path of the Lycene is endless.
From childhood on, we hear tales of heroes in times of war. Their bravery and prowess become shining examples of the strength and glory that the Compact can achieve. Then, as childhood disappears, so do our dreams. How can battle prowess be any example to the life of a merchant?
We forget that these heroes live their life the same way as they fight their battle. As we can learn from them in battle, so can we learn from them to live and brave our challenges in life with all our heart. This book describes the ways of the warriors of Lyceum so they may be an example to us in life.
How is this to be interpreted, then? It may be in two ways; there is the literal sense, where warriors of the Lyceum are trained by similar principles for their warfare, but there is also the metaphorical sense, in which battles are challenges in life; where enemies are our own doubts and fears, and the path is the road to enlightenment and following our dreams.
The book is considered a work in progress. Not because it is incomplete, but simply because the path it describes is infinite and the wisdom of the path of the Lycene is endless.
Written By Wynna
Jan. 3, 2018, 1:55 a.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
So many love letters gone unread. War's simple, pithy tragedies never really change over time, do they? I wonder if the sailors preparing for war will have received theirs before they ship off.
Written By Sameera
Jan. 2, 2018, 10:58 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Eleyna
Just tell those 'witty' people they are annoying or threaten to smash them with your hammer.. or stab them if you have a stabbing weapon. Although, threatening to smash my spouse's head in with my hammer has not proven to be working since he still does the touching thing. But you're a High Lord, it'll probably be more effective than my bitching at my spouse who knows me too well.
Written By Percephon
Jan. 2, 2018, 10:15 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
From the Rose of Woodstone Hall, an adventure novel:
The sharp sound of a scream tore the curtain of tranquility from outside the carriage. Then there was a hard stop, a jolt which caused all of the horses to stop in their tracks, and the sole passenger inside the carriage lurched - gasping with surprise. Lifting the curtain, a young woman with cobalt-blue eyes named Dinah glanced out to call to the driver of the carriage, but she saw three shadowy figures approaching quickly on horseback at frightening speed.
An arrow whizzed through the air and caught in the shoulder of the driver, who cried out in pain and fell out of his seat in the carriage. The reins slipped from his hands, and the horses started to rear back in blind-eyed fear of the uncertain. In order to keep the horses in control, Dinah lunged for the doorway, intent on climbing into the driver's vacated seat.
"Hold tight," she told herself, "I've got this --"
Her rallying cry was cut short when another arrow shot by within inches and lodged itself into the wood of the carriage, sending splinters flying. All this did was to make Dinah all the more determined to escape these unknown brigands. Her knuckles went white on the reins but her grin was confident. She had the courage to do what needed to be done and did it quickly, flicking the reins to start the horses forward at a breakneck pace.
As she glanced back, she could see the faces of the wild-eyed mad brigands as they relentlessly began to chase down the carriage. She sneered and turned back, focused, as she clung to the reins of the carriage that was slowly veering out of control. Her heart lept within her throat, but she knew that she would make it because she believed that she would.
From up ahead in the road, she spied the figure of another horse. Seated impeccably in the saddle was the petite figure of a masked woman in rose-red, chocolate brown hair done into an elaborate style. She spurred the horse forward, and Dinah watched as horse and rider blurred past the racing carriage. The masked figure pulled something from her hair, two wands of bright shining steel --
-- one by one the brigands were stabbed and knocked from their horses --
-- Again, Dinah's heart lept --
-- The masked rider blazed past the carriage again, looking toward the Dinah as she slowed the carriage to a manageable pace. Jade green eyes met cobalt blue amid the dwindling commotion. The masked rider seemed to have an aura of mystery and energy about her, which was both intriguing and frightening.
"You did well, messere," complimented the rose-red rider.
"You did pretty good too," added Dinah, grinning. "I had it in hand, but, thank you!"
"Never doubted it for a moment. Shall we ride to the next town together?"
"We can. Is there anyway that I can learn your name? I mean, I get the need to be the masked heroine of mystique, but it's a pretty big mouthful --"
"Jocelle, The Rose of Woodstone Hall."
The sharp sound of a scream tore the curtain of tranquility from outside the carriage. Then there was a hard stop, a jolt which caused all of the horses to stop in their tracks, and the sole passenger inside the carriage lurched - gasping with surprise. Lifting the curtain, a young woman with cobalt-blue eyes named Dinah glanced out to call to the driver of the carriage, but she saw three shadowy figures approaching quickly on horseback at frightening speed.
An arrow whizzed through the air and caught in the shoulder of the driver, who cried out in pain and fell out of his seat in the carriage. The reins slipped from his hands, and the horses started to rear back in blind-eyed fear of the uncertain. In order to keep the horses in control, Dinah lunged for the doorway, intent on climbing into the driver's vacated seat.
"Hold tight," she told herself, "I've got this --"
Her rallying cry was cut short when another arrow shot by within inches and lodged itself into the wood of the carriage, sending splinters flying. All this did was to make Dinah all the more determined to escape these unknown brigands. Her knuckles went white on the reins but her grin was confident. She had the courage to do what needed to be done and did it quickly, flicking the reins to start the horses forward at a breakneck pace.
As she glanced back, she could see the faces of the wild-eyed mad brigands as they relentlessly began to chase down the carriage. She sneered and turned back, focused, as she clung to the reins of the carriage that was slowly veering out of control. Her heart lept within her throat, but she knew that she would make it because she believed that she would.
From up ahead in the road, she spied the figure of another horse. Seated impeccably in the saddle was the petite figure of a masked woman in rose-red, chocolate brown hair done into an elaborate style. She spurred the horse forward, and Dinah watched as horse and rider blurred past the racing carriage. The masked figure pulled something from her hair, two wands of bright shining steel --
-- one by one the brigands were stabbed and knocked from their horses --
-- Again, Dinah's heart lept --
-- The masked rider blazed past the carriage again, looking toward the Dinah as she slowed the carriage to a manageable pace. Jade green eyes met cobalt blue amid the dwindling commotion. The masked rider seemed to have an aura of mystery and energy about her, which was both intriguing and frightening.
"You did well, messere," complimented the rose-red rider.
"You did pretty good too," added Dinah, grinning. "I had it in hand, but, thank you!"
"Never doubted it for a moment. Shall we ride to the next town together?"
"We can. Is there anyway that I can learn your name? I mean, I get the need to be the masked heroine of mystique, but it's a pretty big mouthful --"
"Jocelle, The Rose of Woodstone Hall."
Written By Eleyna
Jan. 2, 2018, 10:07 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
Jiacomo is Lycene. He cannot help himself.
Written By Joscelin
Jan. 2, 2018, 9:51 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Eleyna
Just so you know, using your distinguished gentleman manservant to give me things is -cheating-. I'm convinced the man hasn't the faintest idea how dashing he is, and I know he only flirts because it makes me blush, but he's such a weakness! How can that charisma exist in one person is just... impossible. And -wrong-. And distracting!
Do you know he waggles his eyebrows and grins at me when he brings me one of your gifts or missives? And then he compliments the scones he steals on his way out the door.
Well, yes, they're rather for everyone but that's not the point is it NO IT ISN'T-
Do you know he waggles his eyebrows and grins at me when he brings me one of your gifts or missives? And then he compliments the scones he steals on his way out the door.
Well, yes, they're rather for everyone but that's not the point is it NO IT ISN'T-
Written By Percephon
Jan. 2, 2018, 9:26 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
Taken from the Treatise of Internal Alchemy, a draft:
Among the best known goals of the alchemist was, perhaps, the transmutation of common metals into gold or silver. Better known is plant alchemy, or the creation of panaceas or poisons (or various other remedies that, supposedly, can be made to cure any ailment or cause one to suffer indefinitely) and the discovery of a universal solvent (ah, theories.) Although these are not the only uses for the discipline (how many perfumes can someone make, truly), they are the ones most documented and well-known. I am more prone to argue that the transmutation of lead into gold is more analogy - for the transmutation of the physical body (lead) into the spiritual body (gold) with the goal of attaining ... well.
Among the best known goals of the alchemist was, perhaps, the transmutation of common metals into gold or silver. Better known is plant alchemy, or the creation of panaceas or poisons (or various other remedies that, supposedly, can be made to cure any ailment or cause one to suffer indefinitely) and the discovery of a universal solvent (ah, theories.) Although these are not the only uses for the discipline (how many perfumes can someone make, truly), they are the ones most documented and well-known. I am more prone to argue that the transmutation of lead into gold is more analogy - for the transmutation of the physical body (lead) into the spiritual body (gold) with the goal of attaining ... well.
Written By Lucita
Jan. 2, 2018, 9:09 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Caspian
My second spar. Lost it too, but held my own a goodly length of time and managed to administer more than tiny nicks and scratches this time. Thank you Master Caspian for the spar.
Written By Edain
Jan. 2, 2018, 8:37 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
I think Heroes very much exist. Because Heroes are very flawed, very human. A Hero makes mistakes, does stupid things and regrets them later, makes a fool of themselves, but when they are at their lowest point find the will to do the right thing.
A Hero is not someone that never makes a mistake, a Hero is someone that does their damnedest to fix the mistakes they make. I think it is not that Heroes are rare so much that we sometimes take for granted the ones we see everyday.
A Hero is not someone that never makes a mistake, a Hero is someone that does their damnedest to fix the mistakes they make. I think it is not that Heroes are rare so much that we sometimes take for granted the ones we see everyday.
Written By Joscelin
Jan. 2, 2018, 8:25 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Mae
Lest anyone forget, I too am here to be the ear and mouth of the commoners.
Written By Shard
Jan. 2, 2018, 8:20 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
Heroes don't exist. I believe that, firmly. Heroes are what we put in stories, but in reality, every person is flawed, and expecting otherwise leads to problems. Disappointment. Anger. Mistakes. Inflated egos. People are always people in the end.
But...now and then I learn something I didn't know about people I never knew, and it's the kind of thing that makes me regret that I was never able to know them.
But...now and then I learn something I didn't know about people I never knew, and it's the kind of thing that makes me regret that I was never able to know them.
Written By Mydas
Jan. 2, 2018, 8:07 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
The Silent Reflections have always been a source of unease, even fear, among visitors to the Shrine. To many, they are a strange and unfamiliar sight, silent individuals clad in the Mirrormask, moving without word, offering nothing but the lessons they failed to heed, the fate of the criminals and heretics, when not outright killed by the Templars. To some, they are a test that would-be Scholars must pass, must contemplate, as their fate should they fail their duties and break their oath.
I've seen many of these prospects try to engage the Silent Reflections, attempting to give them some humanity that they fail to find upon the reflected surfaces of their masks. Their inevitable failure ever disheartens them, and then they do everything they can to try to look away, to ignore them. It's too easy, you see, to picture oneself in their place. With their mask, it is child's play for the mind to imagine being in their place, having one's writing hand cut off as well as their tongue, to be severed from part of one's humanity.
They fear it, and when their thoughts grow too much, they come to me, or one of my fellow Reflections. No doubt desiring the comfort of a voice not their own. It's usually a short-lived relief, however, for it is ever the duty of the Mirrormask to offer a Mirror with which one can confront their flaws and passions, the Dark as to the Light.
I've been asked to answer plenty of moral conundrums. What if a Scholar comes upon knowledge that could save a person's life, if they were to break their oath. Should they do it? What if it would save a child's life? The King's? The Dominus'? What if, with that broken oath, they could save the Compact itself?
It is then that I usually indicate the nearest Silent Reflection, and remark that they might be one who were faced with such a choice. And choose they did.
It's something that Scholars tend to forget. The Silent Reflections are not necessarily merely criminals, heretics, and those who failed to keep their oath. Sometimes it is no failure. Sometimes it is a choice made.
And as ever, it is a choice that comes with consequences.
I've seen many of these prospects try to engage the Silent Reflections, attempting to give them some humanity that they fail to find upon the reflected surfaces of their masks. Their inevitable failure ever disheartens them, and then they do everything they can to try to look away, to ignore them. It's too easy, you see, to picture oneself in their place. With their mask, it is child's play for the mind to imagine being in their place, having one's writing hand cut off as well as their tongue, to be severed from part of one's humanity.
They fear it, and when their thoughts grow too much, they come to me, or one of my fellow Reflections. No doubt desiring the comfort of a voice not their own. It's usually a short-lived relief, however, for it is ever the duty of the Mirrormask to offer a Mirror with which one can confront their flaws and passions, the Dark as to the Light.
I've been asked to answer plenty of moral conundrums. What if a Scholar comes upon knowledge that could save a person's life, if they were to break their oath. Should they do it? What if it would save a child's life? The King's? The Dominus'? What if, with that broken oath, they could save the Compact itself?
It is then that I usually indicate the nearest Silent Reflection, and remark that they might be one who were faced with such a choice. And choose they did.
It's something that Scholars tend to forget. The Silent Reflections are not necessarily merely criminals, heretics, and those who failed to keep their oath. Sometimes it is no failure. Sometimes it is a choice made.
And as ever, it is a choice that comes with consequences.
Written By Mae
Jan. 2, 2018, 7:27 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
The oaths between liege and vassal are sacred. This is the fidelity between Limerance and Gloria. A lord guarantees protection and justice.
This is the first Law of Limerance, upon which the whole of the Compact is built.
Do the lords of this land understand this? As news of death spreads, as news of a new enemy spreads, I wonder how many meditate upon these words. When a commoner dies, does it mean a failure, not just to that person, but to Gloria and Limerance both? I'll start crying if I think on such a burden too long.
I do not have vassals. I do not have anyone to protect. My lord is my beloved King. I am infinitely grateful that when frustration and fear and concern for my own life and my family overtakes me that King Alaric takes a moment from his too busy schedule to write me back.
To all those Crownsworn that wonder if their King listens, he does. If anyone needs a more direct route to his ear, I am here to listen and to take concerns to him. That is my job, as Commoners' Councillor.
To all those that are sworn to other lords and other houses, I'll not dare speak on your lords behalf. I will, however, offer my services in speaking to your lord on your behalf.
And to all those lords out there, I ask you: are your vassals protected? Do they know such? Do they feel such?
This is the first Law of Limerance, upon which the whole of the Compact is built.
Do the lords of this land understand this? As news of death spreads, as news of a new enemy spreads, I wonder how many meditate upon these words. When a commoner dies, does it mean a failure, not just to that person, but to Gloria and Limerance both? I'll start crying if I think on such a burden too long.
I do not have vassals. I do not have anyone to protect. My lord is my beloved King. I am infinitely grateful that when frustration and fear and concern for my own life and my family overtakes me that King Alaric takes a moment from his too busy schedule to write me back.
To all those Crownsworn that wonder if their King listens, he does. If anyone needs a more direct route to his ear, I am here to listen and to take concerns to him. That is my job, as Commoners' Councillor.
To all those that are sworn to other lords and other houses, I'll not dare speak on your lords behalf. I will, however, offer my services in speaking to your lord on your behalf.
And to all those lords out there, I ask you: are your vassals protected? Do they know such? Do they feel such?
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.