Written By Mia
Nov. 12, 2017, 12:29 p.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
It seems I've once again managed to get myself into a situation that I'm in no way prepared for by asking too many questions that have no easy answers.
My fellow citizens of the Compact, be forewarned: Any time you ask that sort of thing, there's a high probability that the reply you receive will be "We've no idea, but now that you've mentioned it, we'll send you to find it."
My fellow citizens of the Compact, be forewarned: Any time you ask that sort of thing, there's a high probability that the reply you receive will be "We've no idea, but now that you've mentioned it, we'll send you to find it."
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 12, 2017, 12:23 p.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Talen
Why do you do this?
Written By Marian
Nov. 12, 2017, 12:23 p.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Talen
Since when have you been looking at Princess Alarissa's and my stockings?
Written By Talen
Nov. 12, 2017, 12:22 p.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Marian
She looks better in stockings. Wait, no. That'll be another vase. Fuck.
Written By Marian
Nov. 12, 2017, 12:21 p.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Eleyna
Why is Prince Talen inviting Princess Consort Alarissa to dinner and not me. I am deeply hurt. Throw a vase at him for me.
Written By Marian
Nov. 12, 2017, 12:19 p.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Katarina
She sails in beauty and gives grace to all that meet her in their path. I love you sister of my heart. I do hope the wind is at your back when we sail. Till then, love your dear husband and dance at as many parties as you can.
Written By Talen
Nov. 12, 2017, 12:18 p.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Alarissa
It's just constant disappointment with you, isn't it?
None greater than Grayson gone too far.
Just come for dinner, I promise you our wine is better.
None greater than Grayson gone too far.
Just come for dinner, I promise you our wine is better.
Written By Marian
Nov. 12, 2017, 11:57 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Reigna
You do not have to give birth to a child to be their parent. They don't need to share your blood to be family. I think nature is by far the smallest part in the equation that makes a parent. It is the nurture. The love one gives. The moments in their lives where you are there to see they take their first steps, hold their first sword and dance at their wedding. None of these moments are given less weigh simply because you don't share the same blood. So, if you wish to be a guardian, not a mother, there is nothing wrong with that. But don't allow a simple day, the day she was born, take away from anything. Raise her, love her and if you want her to share your name, adopt her within your family. Then no one will stand and say that she is not your daughter.
Written By Marian
Nov. 12, 2017, 11:46 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
I think people pray for many reasons. Every single one of us has a unique relationship to the Gods. Mine started when I bended knee to the Compact and found myself a stranger in a strange land, lost amongst the customs of those who found my manners, my dress, my speech to be lacking. I struggled to fit in. I found myself at a loss most days. So I talked. In those days, I wouldn't call exactly what I did was prayer. I talked to the Gods because they were there to listen. I didn't need any validation or great miracle to find faith. I just needed a friend.
Of course, my life has changed greatly since those early days and my circle has grown greatly. I have forged deep bonds that still carry me in my darker days. Regardless of those ties, I still find comfort sometimes in the quiet support of a chapel and the open ear of a priest who can listen. Sometimes one just needs an outlet to go to. So, my advise is don't look for answers, look for understanding. And listen. I fear that many of us do more talking than listening these days. We need to be better about that.
Of course, my life has changed greatly since those early days and my circle has grown greatly. I have forged deep bonds that still carry me in my darker days. Regardless of those ties, I still find comfort sometimes in the quiet support of a chapel and the open ear of a priest who can listen. Sometimes one just needs an outlet to go to. So, my advise is don't look for answers, look for understanding. And listen. I fear that many of us do more talking than listening these days. We need to be better about that.
Written By Reigna
Nov. 12, 2017, 11:45 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Edain
I wanted to express how grateful I am to be within this man's fealty. His Grace, Prince Edain regularly inspires me. He is kind hearted and tireless in his service to his people. He has several times reached out to me to make sure that I am well and happy and untroubled, though I am a Countess and he a Prince and High Lord. He is not alone in that -- I count among my dearest friends a Duke, several Princesses and a Prince or three and I think... how is it that a child of an impoverished Lord and Lady from the backwaters of Wyrmguard has found herself in this position? It is because Prince Edain fosters a spirit of family within the fealty. His grace and kindness, his inclusiveness is something that begins at the top and shines down to others. I am so grateful to call him liege and I feel blessed to know him and his family.
Written By Reigna
Nov. 12, 2017, 11:39 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Bianca
Cousin, your pen brought a knot to my throat and mist to my eyes. Thank you. Thank you for sharing that story. It is so clear why you were chosen as Archscholar as you exemplify the wisdom of Vellichor. Knowledge shared, especially the hard truths that are carved into us by pain... it is a blessed thing to share. And I for one am grateful to have read it.
Written By Reigna
Nov. 12, 2017, 11:33 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
I have to say I genuinely prefer this whole having the baby in the world rather than within me. Not to say there was no magic in the carrying, but I am having many moments that remind me just how difficult those last few months were. The body and mind are remarkable in so many ways, not the least of which is in how quickly the not-normal can become normal. For instance, in the last month of carrying Squall those familiar with me might recall that my belly was rather large. I have caught myself attempting to hug someone as if it still were, with a pivot and lean in. And then I realize how silly I look. Or the distance from which I stand when filling my plate from the buffet. For all of the oddities and the habits I must relearn... everything, everything is worth it. Our little Lord of Storms is, to this mother's eyes, perfect from head to toe.
It is... *the word difficult has been crossed out and replaced with* challenging, some times. There are three infants in my house right now. Squall, of course, at less than two weeks, Kata who Eliza -- our nurse -- and I estimate to be eight months old and Eliza's son, Orrin who is eleven months old. It is, in a way, like looking into Squall's future. Seeing the milestones ahead. But the challenge is in managing my heart. How do I watch these precious children, Kata, especially, and not form a familial bond with them? When we found Kata she was so thin and ill I worried we might lose her. Before Princess Alis sent her nurse over until we could find Eliza I had to feed Kata myself. And there was a connection born in that act that I cannot shake. Kael and I have discussed things and while, logically I know his vision is right, that it is in no way appropriate for me to cling to a mother's role in Kata's life -- in truth the thought of her calling me mother is unsettling in a way. I feel it dishonors her actual mother who died -- I cannot help but have these occasional flickers of that sentiment. How can I not? She is a charming, sweet soul and I am responsible for her.
I think often of the difficulties that she faces. To be raised in a home and to be family, but not. To have these invisible divisions that keep her other. I fear deeply that I will harm her somehow. Will she resent us for the fact that when she is older she will not be ennobled? That she will be in all senses, a sister to Squall and yet he will be Lord and she not Lady? I struggle with this often, and I do not know what is best. Would it be kinder to send her to Oakhaven to grow away from Arx? But if I do that, how can I be certain she grows knowing that she is loved? A stupid question logically. There are ways, but the heart, I find is not often a logical organ.
If any eyes reading this has the desire to offer their opinion I shall ask my fellow scholars to point me to their whites.
It is... *the word difficult has been crossed out and replaced with* challenging, some times. There are three infants in my house right now. Squall, of course, at less than two weeks, Kata who Eliza -- our nurse -- and I estimate to be eight months old and Eliza's son, Orrin who is eleven months old. It is, in a way, like looking into Squall's future. Seeing the milestones ahead. But the challenge is in managing my heart. How do I watch these precious children, Kata, especially, and not form a familial bond with them? When we found Kata she was so thin and ill I worried we might lose her. Before Princess Alis sent her nurse over until we could find Eliza I had to feed Kata myself. And there was a connection born in that act that I cannot shake. Kael and I have discussed things and while, logically I know his vision is right, that it is in no way appropriate for me to cling to a mother's role in Kata's life -- in truth the thought of her calling me mother is unsettling in a way. I feel it dishonors her actual mother who died -- I cannot help but have these occasional flickers of that sentiment. How can I not? She is a charming, sweet soul and I am responsible for her.
I think often of the difficulties that she faces. To be raised in a home and to be family, but not. To have these invisible divisions that keep her other. I fear deeply that I will harm her somehow. Will she resent us for the fact that when she is older she will not be ennobled? That she will be in all senses, a sister to Squall and yet he will be Lord and she not Lady? I struggle with this often, and I do not know what is best. Would it be kinder to send her to Oakhaven to grow away from Arx? But if I do that, how can I be certain she grows knowing that she is loved? A stupid question logically. There are ways, but the heart, I find is not often a logical organ.
If any eyes reading this has the desire to offer their opinion I shall ask my fellow scholars to point me to their whites.
Written By Alarissa
Nov. 12, 2017, 11:30 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Talen
I am disappointed. I have yet to be poisoned by you, in a fun way.
Written By Bianca
Nov. 12, 2017, 11:18 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Damon
7/25/1007 AR:
I am not often an affectionate woman nor easily turned to an emotional state. Even in my younger days I was this way (to which Mother Mercy Sophie can ruefully attest and I continue to be grateful for her grace and patience), but it wasn't until the passed few years that I found myself adverse to actual physical contact. I have attempted to dissect this alteration in my being and have come to the realization that there was an exact date in which my natural inclination toward the reserved became all the more severe.
9/10/1005 AR, the day of the memorial service for Lord Damon Wyrmguard.
I have not spoken of Damon since that day beyond "thank you" in regards to the numerous condolences granted. It was not as if I wasn't given the opportunity. In specific, I wish to thank Lady Khanne Halfshav, Marquessa Lianne Pravus, Princess Valencia Redrain and of course Princess Sophie Valardin for actively offering an open heart and attentive ear (to which I foolishly rejected at the time). Now, in the hopes of adhereing to my own request to the Compact for documentation, I think it might be time I finally come to terms with his loss.
My parents passed when I was very young and being an only child it was lonely and difficult growing up. That is not to say that Marquis Denis didn't do what he could to ensure I was provided for and felt embraced by my family, but even though Dominique, Damon and Desiree often invited me to come play with them I never quite felt like I belonged. To be honest, I was not an active child in general and I am prone to sunburns so it should be no great surprise I was drawn to books rather than wooden swords.
I would sit beneath the apple tree in the inner courtyard at the Blancbier estate every day and read. That was my form of play time. I remember the first day Damon began joining me.
Uncle Danton had come to visit. If I remember right, it was so that Beaumont could meet some of the more prominent Knights of Blancbier. In any case, Isabeau and Sophie had come along and all of the cousins were running about the halls playing. I remember them running by me through the courtyard a few times in a rumbling cacophony of giggles and stomps. Sophie, no older than four at the time, of course implored me to come play... but even then I rejected my sweetest cousin's invitation.
It was after a few more passes back and forth that to my angsty surprise Damon broke free from the pack and came to confront me. I remember it clear as day.
"Why won't you come play?" He asked, pointing his makeshift stick/sword at me with all the accusation and demand a six year old could muster.
"I want to read." I replied frankly.
"What are you reading?" His tone was agitated, sword tip falling to touch the cobbled ground to be dragged as he moved to sit beside me.
And that is how our friendship began. Every day, Damon would sit with me beneath that tree and read a new story no matter how off-putting I was and eventually my resistance ended and in my acceptance of his diligent company I finally felt a connection to someone. I felt as if I had a brother. Granted, Damon sometimes brought out the worst in me. He was mischevious and sly... and fearless. I can't count the amount of times we were reprimanded for some silly or stupidly dangerous thing we did. He always knew how to convince me. Even when I argued against whatever clever prank he had planned his reply was always the same: "... but won't it make a wonderful story?"
It always did.
I could go on for pages and pages about my surrogate brother/cousin. I love him and I will always love him.
With that, the most prominant emotion I felt the day of his memorial service and long after it was anger. It overwhelmed me. How could he leave me alone? How /dare/ he?
It was the anger that prevented me from speaking to others. I was ashamed of it and that day the part of me that was Damon went into hiding. I had to be strong for my family and for the ventures that Damon had supported. I had to get to work. In locking away that piece of myself I lost the will for social interaction and replaced it with a duty to a greater cause. I do not regret that decision, but I do regret not understanding that the part of me that was born from my friendship with him didn't need to vanish. It was easier that way, yes... but it's not what he would have wanted.
I am still angry about his loss, but moreso my helplessness to prevent it. Looking back I think that was truly what caused my rage, but I was blinded by my pain and indignance to see it. In time that will fade even if the pain of it never truly will.
Today, I choose to release myself from the chains of his loss. I release Damon and his memory... but I know any time a risk arises and I need to choose how to move forward I will hear that white haired little boy ask, "... but won't it make a wonderful story?"
I am not often an affectionate woman nor easily turned to an emotional state. Even in my younger days I was this way (to which Mother Mercy Sophie can ruefully attest and I continue to be grateful for her grace and patience), but it wasn't until the passed few years that I found myself adverse to actual physical contact. I have attempted to dissect this alteration in my being and have come to the realization that there was an exact date in which my natural inclination toward the reserved became all the more severe.
9/10/1005 AR, the day of the memorial service for Lord Damon Wyrmguard.
I have not spoken of Damon since that day beyond "thank you" in regards to the numerous condolences granted. It was not as if I wasn't given the opportunity. In specific, I wish to thank Lady Khanne Halfshav, Marquessa Lianne Pravus, Princess Valencia Redrain and of course Princess Sophie Valardin for actively offering an open heart and attentive ear (to which I foolishly rejected at the time). Now, in the hopes of adhereing to my own request to the Compact for documentation, I think it might be time I finally come to terms with his loss.
My parents passed when I was very young and being an only child it was lonely and difficult growing up. That is not to say that Marquis Denis didn't do what he could to ensure I was provided for and felt embraced by my family, but even though Dominique, Damon and Desiree often invited me to come play with them I never quite felt like I belonged. To be honest, I was not an active child in general and I am prone to sunburns so it should be no great surprise I was drawn to books rather than wooden swords.
I would sit beneath the apple tree in the inner courtyard at the Blancbier estate every day and read. That was my form of play time. I remember the first day Damon began joining me.
Uncle Danton had come to visit. If I remember right, it was so that Beaumont could meet some of the more prominent Knights of Blancbier. In any case, Isabeau and Sophie had come along and all of the cousins were running about the halls playing. I remember them running by me through the courtyard a few times in a rumbling cacophony of giggles and stomps. Sophie, no older than four at the time, of course implored me to come play... but even then I rejected my sweetest cousin's invitation.
It was after a few more passes back and forth that to my angsty surprise Damon broke free from the pack and came to confront me. I remember it clear as day.
"Why won't you come play?" He asked, pointing his makeshift stick/sword at me with all the accusation and demand a six year old could muster.
"I want to read." I replied frankly.
"What are you reading?" His tone was agitated, sword tip falling to touch the cobbled ground to be dragged as he moved to sit beside me.
And that is how our friendship began. Every day, Damon would sit with me beneath that tree and read a new story no matter how off-putting I was and eventually my resistance ended and in my acceptance of his diligent company I finally felt a connection to someone. I felt as if I had a brother. Granted, Damon sometimes brought out the worst in me. He was mischevious and sly... and fearless. I can't count the amount of times we were reprimanded for some silly or stupidly dangerous thing we did. He always knew how to convince me. Even when I argued against whatever clever prank he had planned his reply was always the same: "... but won't it make a wonderful story?"
It always did.
I could go on for pages and pages about my surrogate brother/cousin. I love him and I will always love him.
With that, the most prominant emotion I felt the day of his memorial service and long after it was anger. It overwhelmed me. How could he leave me alone? How /dare/ he?
It was the anger that prevented me from speaking to others. I was ashamed of it and that day the part of me that was Damon went into hiding. I had to be strong for my family and for the ventures that Damon had supported. I had to get to work. In locking away that piece of myself I lost the will for social interaction and replaced it with a duty to a greater cause. I do not regret that decision, but I do regret not understanding that the part of me that was born from my friendship with him didn't need to vanish. It was easier that way, yes... but it's not what he would have wanted.
I am still angry about his loss, but moreso my helplessness to prevent it. Looking back I think that was truly what caused my rage, but I was blinded by my pain and indignance to see it. In time that will fade even if the pain of it never truly will.
Today, I choose to release myself from the chains of his loss. I release Damon and his memory... but I know any time a risk arises and I need to choose how to move forward I will hear that white haired little boy ask, "... but won't it make a wonderful story?"
Written By Reigna
Nov. 12, 2017, 11:05 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Zerric
I met a fellow Scholar the other day and his love of the written word delights me to no end. it is so delightful to find in another the same passion that drives you. We have plans to go to the Great Archives and I cannot wait to see his face the first time he looks upon that spectacular ink-laden vista. The knowledge held within those walls is truly a spiritual thing. He also is patroned, it would seem, by the delightful Princess Valencia Velenosa who is inspired to start her own library. Marvelous and well met, Zerric Memphit!
Written By Belladonna
Nov. 12, 2017, 10:57 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
It comes up quite regularly, and I know there is some gossip about it.
My husband is in Setarco, both to be with our son and to oversee all of our military actions. There are a great many threats on the horizon, and we have found it effective to be addressing the threats facing our Duchy and the Compact this way. Not all moves can be easily managed from Arx, and there is a great benefit to be had from one of the rulers of a domain being present consistently. While I have quite effectively run my island from the Compact's capital for quite some time, there are benefits to having boots on the ground.
No more, no less. We are not estranged, nor having any particular difficulties with our marriage.
My husband is in Setarco, both to be with our son and to oversee all of our military actions. There are a great many threats on the horizon, and we have found it effective to be addressing the threats facing our Duchy and the Compact this way. Not all moves can be easily managed from Arx, and there is a great benefit to be had from one of the rulers of a domain being present consistently. While I have quite effectively run my island from the Compact's capital for quite some time, there are benefits to having boots on the ground.
No more, no less. We are not estranged, nor having any particular difficulties with our marriage.
Written By Mae
Nov. 12, 2017, 10:42 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Sparte
My hero,
I do believe it is the disciples of Mangata might oversee bridge building in Arvum. If not them, then the Knights of Solace, for certain.
Best of luck!
I do believe it is the disciples of Mangata might oversee bridge building in Arvum. If not them, then the Knights of Solace, for certain.
Best of luck!
Written By Sparte
Nov. 12, 2017, 9:48 a.m.(7/26/1007 AR)
Sometimes the right decision isn't the one people want to see made. How do you mend a bridge when it was cut from the other side?
Written By Bliss
Nov. 12, 2017, 8:47 a.m.(7/25/1007 AR)
Yesterday morning, with the first rays of dawn starting to touch the flowers strewn along the path, I walked to the altar of Limerance. Yesterday, I answered the Ten Questions of Faith before the priests of the Pantheon and dedicated myself as a Devotion of Limerance.
Yesterday afternoon I spent more hours than I knew were possible learning to review marriage applications and questioning merchant's sons and daughters to ensure that they entered these contracts of their own free will.
Today, as a Disciple of the God of Courtly Love and Fidelity, I announce that I am giving not just of my time in clerical work to support the Devotions. Beginning today I will take only those clients who seek a Champion that seek to defend themselves against accusations of infidelity or defending their love. I will take only what coin is required to pay for healers or mending armor, and any other coin collected as a Champion I will donate to the Fatih.
Yesterday afternoon I spent more hours than I knew were possible learning to review marriage applications and questioning merchant's sons and daughters to ensure that they entered these contracts of their own free will.
Today, as a Disciple of the God of Courtly Love and Fidelity, I announce that I am giving not just of my time in clerical work to support the Devotions. Beginning today I will take only those clients who seek a Champion that seek to defend themselves against accusations of infidelity or defending their love. I will take only what coin is required to pay for healers or mending armor, and any other coin collected as a Champion I will donate to the Fatih.
Written By Ailith
Nov. 12, 2017, 8:03 a.m.(7/25/1007 AR)
Holy Services Sermon
Day 25 of Month 7 in 1007 AR
Palace Chapel
Why pray? What power can prayer -- words hold?
These are not uncommon questions people face especially when direct action is favored over prayer during times of crisis. And why wouldn't it when the results are immediately seen? Why pray some ask when the Gods may not hear, will not speak with me, or are not going to answer? It appears to be a futile effort.
I must have been six or seven. I didn't know much about the world and my parents would drag the whole family to services every week to this small crumbling chapel. That day, everything hurt. Blight had taken our harvest and most of the community was struggling. My brothers and sisters were crying and cranky, pinching and punching each other because they couldn't understand why their empty stomachs twisted and hurt. Mom and Dad were trying to hush them like many of the other families were with their children. And there was the Seraph talking about prayer and how the Gods listen. I wanted to punch him in the face.
I realize that's a bold statement especially coming from me. But it had been days since I last saw even a crumb, dirt wasn't filling my belly anymore, and all the endless whining was getting to me. I wanted to cry and scream like my brothers and sisters. Then this Seraph talks about words of make-believe. We had been praying for weeks and nothing was happening. We still were starving.
Just when I was about to get up and teach that Seraph a lesson with my fists, I saw one of the well-to-do kids near the front of the chapel munching on a blackberry tart. I lost it. I marched right to the aisle and could hear parents, mine included, gasp as the Seraph bright as the summer's sun smile kindly at me and set a hand to my shoulder.
As he guided me back to my family, he took a loaf of bread and broke it into pieces, sharing them with my brothers and sisters, my mother and father, and me. Then he broke another loaf and did the same for another family. He continued to do this while never once pausing his sermon. In between those bites as tears stained my cheeks, I felt relieved and renewed. Much of what he said wasn't listened to. I was a child and that loaf of bread was answer to my immediate prayer for food.
That tiny derelict chapel became a safe haven. When we'd leave services, the community was rejuvenated and strong enabling us to face another week of hardship. Our chapel became a place of solace and our prayers comfort. We could rely on the Faith and Gods being there for us.
Answers may not always be immediate or obviously from the Gods but if we are patient, we can endure.
Day 25 of Month 7 in 1007 AR
Palace Chapel
Why pray? What power can prayer -- words hold?
These are not uncommon questions people face especially when direct action is favored over prayer during times of crisis. And why wouldn't it when the results are immediately seen? Why pray some ask when the Gods may not hear, will not speak with me, or are not going to answer? It appears to be a futile effort.
I must have been six or seven. I didn't know much about the world and my parents would drag the whole family to services every week to this small crumbling chapel. That day, everything hurt. Blight had taken our harvest and most of the community was struggling. My brothers and sisters were crying and cranky, pinching and punching each other because they couldn't understand why their empty stomachs twisted and hurt. Mom and Dad were trying to hush them like many of the other families were with their children. And there was the Seraph talking about prayer and how the Gods listen. I wanted to punch him in the face.
I realize that's a bold statement especially coming from me. But it had been days since I last saw even a crumb, dirt wasn't filling my belly anymore, and all the endless whining was getting to me. I wanted to cry and scream like my brothers and sisters. Then this Seraph talks about words of make-believe. We had been praying for weeks and nothing was happening. We still were starving.
Just when I was about to get up and teach that Seraph a lesson with my fists, I saw one of the well-to-do kids near the front of the chapel munching on a blackberry tart. I lost it. I marched right to the aisle and could hear parents, mine included, gasp as the Seraph bright as the summer's sun smile kindly at me and set a hand to my shoulder.
As he guided me back to my family, he took a loaf of bread and broke it into pieces, sharing them with my brothers and sisters, my mother and father, and me. Then he broke another loaf and did the same for another family. He continued to do this while never once pausing his sermon. In between those bites as tears stained my cheeks, I felt relieved and renewed. Much of what he said wasn't listened to. I was a child and that loaf of bread was answer to my immediate prayer for food.
That tiny derelict chapel became a safe haven. When we'd leave services, the community was rejuvenated and strong enabling us to face another week of hardship. Our chapel became a place of solace and our prayers comfort. We could rely on the Faith and Gods being there for us.
Answers may not always be immediate or obviously from the Gods but if we are patient, we can endure.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.