Written By Aislin
July 23, 2017, 5:33 p.m.(11/21/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Alaric
I ran into the king at the Badger last night, listening to tales of adventure from one of the Society -- his stablemaster, Tristan. He seemed very much the old king in some ways, willing to joke and laugh and be personable... but there were moments when I glimpsed something else beneath the surface. I think some of it is an act now.
In a way, that's good -- we need a king who's prepared for what's ahead.
But I also feel a bit sorry for him. It cannot be easy to suddenly have responsibility and demands for maturity land on your head... not even for a royal.
In a way, that's good -- we need a king who's prepared for what's ahead.
But I also feel a bit sorry for him. It cannot be easy to suddenly have responsibility and demands for maturity land on your head... not even for a royal.
Written By Aislin
July 9, 2017, 7:08 p.m.(10/21/1006 AR)
I'm starting to worry greatly about the size of the Society of Explorers. It feels like as more and more of our forgotten history becomes known, more and more people want to join. We're already reaching a size where I no longer personally know all of the members of the Society -- which could be good, but it also means I'm starting to have concerns about how well all of our members may be prepared for the field.
I feel like perhaps before I let anyone else into the Society, I should come up with a field exam -- make sure they're capable of all the basic skills needed to survive in the field, something similar. Though that's a difficult test to come up with; do you focus on tracking and cartography? On riddles and disarming traps? On fighting the things that sometimes pursue you?
This will take some thought...
I feel like perhaps before I let anyone else into the Society, I should come up with a field exam -- make sure they're capable of all the basic skills needed to survive in the field, something similar. Though that's a difficult test to come up with; do you focus on tracking and cartography? On riddles and disarming traps? On fighting the things that sometimes pursue you?
This will take some thought...
Written By Aislin
July 2, 2017, 9:34 p.m.(10/7/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Turo
Count Turo Navegant has already proven himself a good friend and member to the Society of Explorers; he came bearing charts and old sailing journals to contribute to the Society's records. Anyone who donates to the shelves has my respect and thanks.
Besides which, it's good to have a sailor in our ranks -- the majority of our members are of the land-locked sort, and it could well prove useful to have access to a ship for some expeditions. Diversity of skills is key to the Society being able to take on a variety of expeditions, after all.
Gods know, I'd never have made it along the coast of the Wastes, or out to that one island in the Mourning Isles, if I hadn't been able to take passage on a ship for a while. And I can only assume there will be a few expeditions that crop up in the Isles and the Saffron Chain -- or even one to venture into the Wastes, someday. Having a ship -- or at least a member with experience sailing one -- could prove vital to those.
Besides which, it's good to have a sailor in our ranks -- the majority of our members are of the land-locked sort, and it could well prove useful to have access to a ship for some expeditions. Diversity of skills is key to the Society being able to take on a variety of expeditions, after all.
Gods know, I'd never have made it along the coast of the Wastes, or out to that one island in the Mourning Isles, if I hadn't been able to take passage on a ship for a while. And I can only assume there will be a few expeditions that crop up in the Isles and the Saffron Chain -- or even one to venture into the Wastes, someday. Having a ship -- or at least a member with experience sailing one -- could prove vital to those.
Written By Aislin
July 2, 2017, 9:23 p.m.(10/7/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Alexis
This Oathlander armorsmith turned up at the Society looking for me. She was another friend of Niamh's, and wanted to express her condolences -- and share memories. It was... oddly relaxing, in a way. Sad, yes, but... nice to have a conversation that was about little things Nia did, rather than about the fate of the world or some impending abyssal threat.
(Gods, some days my to-do list would seem unfathomably odd to the Aislin of five years ago.)
(Gods, some days my to-do list would seem unfathomably odd to the Aislin of five years ago.)
Written By Aislin
June 24, 2017, 1:34 p.m.(9/19/1006 AR)
When I started offering a course in learning the basics of the Nox'alfar language through the Society, I didn't expect it to be nearly so popular. I had no idea so many people in the city wanted to know the language -- or that so many people in the city were budding linguists.
It actually reassures me, to some degree; gods and spirits know, we're going to need to be willing to learn new things if we're to stand against the growing darkness.
It actually reassures me, to some degree; gods and spirits know, we're going to need to be willing to learn new things if we're to stand against the growing darkness.
Written By Aislin
June 18, 2017, 11:16 a.m.(9/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Niamh
((The handwriting of this entry is far shakier than the usual sure penmanship.))
There's a hole in me.
I'm not someone who falls into relationships easily; in the past, by the time I've realized I could love someone in that way, they were always with some other person. Few have ever approached /me/ of their own violition; possibly because I know that when I'm in the city walls, I'm more stiff -- more serious -- than I ever am out in the field, with the whole world around me. Possibly because of the scar.
Whatever the reason, I'd gotten used to being alone in that sense. And then... then Niamh.
Niamh Greenmarch wasn't someone I would have thought of in that way, had you asked me before we got to know each other better. I met her first when we spoke about clearing the Blight of the Silence from Ashford lands. We met again to discuss folklore and adventure. And I came to enjoy our discussions. And I told her how much I missed exploring -- that the war was keeping me so much in the city walls.
And then one day she asked to see my treehouse, but told me she needed a bit of time alone in it first. When I climbed up later, I found she'd decorated it for an adventure like the ones Harlan and I used to have when we were young. These endearingly clumsy hand-painted backdrops of what were supposed to be the desert of Eurus to the east, some imaginary land of castles and wonder to represent Cardia to the south, the white expanse of the Everwinter to the north, and the mountains to the west. She'd put bedrolls and a lantern, and a hand-drawn map of nothing in particular out.
And she told me we were going to have an adventure, even if I had to stay in the city walls to do so. And asked me where we should go.
We sat there in our campsite and discussed what to do. Where to go, in our little treehouse-world. My griffin from my imaginary childhood adventures, Cloudstriker, was still there, but he couldn't carry two adults in armor on an adventure. So in the end we decided we'd go to the 'mountains' to find another griffin to tame, one to fly Niamh around on our imaginary adventures.
And at the end of that first adventure, she told me she'd like to court me.
I told her yes.
It wasn't always an easy path for us, being something of an adventure in itself. We didn't always agree on everything; no couple does. But she knew that my home would be a safe space -- that she could leave the cares of the world at the door, step inside, and just be Niamh. Nothing else. And I knew that whenever I got fretful or restless, she'd come up with some new puzzle, some new adventure within the walls, for me to solve.
I don't know -- I /can't/ know -- where that road would have led us in time. Whether we would have worked well, or whether it would have ended in pain despite our best intentions, as many relationships do. I want to believe that we could've walked my path in life together.
And now she's gone. There's a part of me, some formerly empty space that I hadn't entirely realized how securely she'd fit herself into, which feels empty now... raw and bleeding, as if something was torn away. As if my nerves are laid bare, exposed to the air, and every single thing I feel is magnified ten times.
I take some solace in the fact that if she looked at peace, her passing must have been a quiet one... that her end didn't come in pain, or terror. I can take solace in the fact that she's on a new adventure -- one into the Shining Lands themselves -- and no doubt one of wonder. But I cannot follow her... and I know she wouldn't want me to.
I know in time, the pain will fade -- as all grief does. And now that we know of the Wheel once again, perhaps we'll find each other again in our next lifetime, or the one after that. I don't believe our ties are cut forever.
And someday, when I'm out there in the wild, and I find a griffin hatchling in truth -- I'll think back and remember the first moment I truly knew someone else loved me, when we were chasing imaginary griffins in a treehouse.
Goodbye, my love... for now.
There's a hole in me.
I'm not someone who falls into relationships easily; in the past, by the time I've realized I could love someone in that way, they were always with some other person. Few have ever approached /me/ of their own violition; possibly because I know that when I'm in the city walls, I'm more stiff -- more serious -- than I ever am out in the field, with the whole world around me. Possibly because of the scar.
Whatever the reason, I'd gotten used to being alone in that sense. And then... then Niamh.
Niamh Greenmarch wasn't someone I would have thought of in that way, had you asked me before we got to know each other better. I met her first when we spoke about clearing the Blight of the Silence from Ashford lands. We met again to discuss folklore and adventure. And I came to enjoy our discussions. And I told her how much I missed exploring -- that the war was keeping me so much in the city walls.
And then one day she asked to see my treehouse, but told me she needed a bit of time alone in it first. When I climbed up later, I found she'd decorated it for an adventure like the ones Harlan and I used to have when we were young. These endearingly clumsy hand-painted backdrops of what were supposed to be the desert of Eurus to the east, some imaginary land of castles and wonder to represent Cardia to the south, the white expanse of the Everwinter to the north, and the mountains to the west. She'd put bedrolls and a lantern, and a hand-drawn map of nothing in particular out.
And she told me we were going to have an adventure, even if I had to stay in the city walls to do so. And asked me where we should go.
We sat there in our campsite and discussed what to do. Where to go, in our little treehouse-world. My griffin from my imaginary childhood adventures, Cloudstriker, was still there, but he couldn't carry two adults in armor on an adventure. So in the end we decided we'd go to the 'mountains' to find another griffin to tame, one to fly Niamh around on our imaginary adventures.
And at the end of that first adventure, she told me she'd like to court me.
I told her yes.
It wasn't always an easy path for us, being something of an adventure in itself. We didn't always agree on everything; no couple does. But she knew that my home would be a safe space -- that she could leave the cares of the world at the door, step inside, and just be Niamh. Nothing else. And I knew that whenever I got fretful or restless, she'd come up with some new puzzle, some new adventure within the walls, for me to solve.
I don't know -- I /can't/ know -- where that road would have led us in time. Whether we would have worked well, or whether it would have ended in pain despite our best intentions, as many relationships do. I want to believe that we could've walked my path in life together.
And now she's gone. There's a part of me, some formerly empty space that I hadn't entirely realized how securely she'd fit herself into, which feels empty now... raw and bleeding, as if something was torn away. As if my nerves are laid bare, exposed to the air, and every single thing I feel is magnified ten times.
I take some solace in the fact that if she looked at peace, her passing must have been a quiet one... that her end didn't come in pain, or terror. I can take solace in the fact that she's on a new adventure -- one into the Shining Lands themselves -- and no doubt one of wonder. But I cannot follow her... and I know she wouldn't want me to.
I know in time, the pain will fade -- as all grief does. And now that we know of the Wheel once again, perhaps we'll find each other again in our next lifetime, or the one after that. I don't believe our ties are cut forever.
And someday, when I'm out there in the wild, and I find a griffin hatchling in truth -- I'll think back and remember the first moment I truly knew someone else loved me, when we were chasing imaginary griffins in a treehouse.
Goodbye, my love... for now.
Written By Aislin
June 11, 2017, 8:33 p.m.(8/19/1006 AR)
Slowly, I continue to fill the reference shelves at the Society of Explorers. A four volume history of what we've managed to piece together of the elven nations and their past. A reference on modern Nox'alfar diplomacy. A study of reincarnation. I hope to finish a guide to Eurus and some of the lands beyond, soon.
And yet I swear my list keeps growing. All the things I /should/ record for other explorers. The things necessary to give context to what we might find out there. I sometimes wonder if what I'll be remembered for generations from now -- if I'm remembered at all -- isn't my explorations, but rather all these tomes I keep taking to poor Sister Gisele to illuminate and bind.
And still, the number of topics on which I could write feels like it grows every passing day. (Admittedly, the percentage of those with no ominous implications also seems to shrink...)
And yet I swear my list keeps growing. All the things I /should/ record for other explorers. The things necessary to give context to what we might find out there. I sometimes wonder if what I'll be remembered for generations from now -- if I'm remembered at all -- isn't my explorations, but rather all these tomes I keep taking to poor Sister Gisele to illuminate and bind.
And still, the number of topics on which I could write feels like it grows every passing day. (Admittedly, the percentage of those with no ominous implications also seems to shrink...)
Written By Aislin
June 6, 2017, 2:22 p.m.(8/9/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Leona
Dame Leona Thrax, the Lord Commander of the King's Own. She seems an honorable and capable woman, every bit what Rainier's described her as in the past.
But gods and spirits, she's a demon when it comes to training!
Running an obstacle course backwards while defending oneself... it's actually practical, gods know. I've been forced to move backwards on uneven terrain by something attacking me more than once in the field. But running the obstacle course once, doing the attacking-along-it twice, and then running the course a fourth time... I know I've been behind a desk at the Society too long, but every joint aches.
It's a good ache, mind you, but an ache nonetheless. (In contrast, I don't think she even broke a sweat. And that backflip was really just excessive.)
But she invited me back to train more. I have a feeling that's only the beginning of what she could -- and would -- put me through. Still, it can only help my performance in the field when I get out there and /explore/ properly again, so perhaps I'll take her up on it.
But gods and spirits, she's a demon when it comes to training!
Running an obstacle course backwards while defending oneself... it's actually practical, gods know. I've been forced to move backwards on uneven terrain by something attacking me more than once in the field. But running the obstacle course once, doing the attacking-along-it twice, and then running the course a fourth time... I know I've been behind a desk at the Society too long, but every joint aches.
It's a good ache, mind you, but an ache nonetheless. (In contrast, I don't think she even broke a sweat. And that backflip was really just excessive.)
But she invited me back to train more. I have a feeling that's only the beginning of what she could -- and would -- put me through. Still, it can only help my performance in the field when I get out there and /explore/ properly again, so perhaps I'll take her up on it.
Written By Aislin
June 6, 2017, 7:40 a.m.(8/8/1006 AR)
A legal loophole to outlaw puns? I find myself forced to ask the obvious question: for those who broke such a law, what would the pun-ishment be?
Written By Aislin
June 2, 2017, 12:50 a.m.(7/26/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Juliet
I went to help Inquisitor Laric with his inquiry into the death of Lady Juliet Fidante.
I like to think I am usually an eloquent person, but I have no words. No one should ever have to even /see/ what we saw... and certainly no one should have to meet their end that way.
To see that befall anyone is horrible. When it's someone you knew, who you often spoke to, it's far worse. She didn't deserve that. Gods and spirits, NO one does.
I just...
No, I'm sorry. I truly don't have the words.
May Death grant her soul a pleasant life on her next journey around the wheel.
I like to think I am usually an eloquent person, but I have no words. No one should ever have to even /see/ what we saw... and certainly no one should have to meet their end that way.
To see that befall anyone is horrible. When it's someone you knew, who you often spoke to, it's far worse. She didn't deserve that. Gods and spirits, NO one does.
I just...
No, I'm sorry. I truly don't have the words.
May Death grant her soul a pleasant life on her next journey around the wheel.
Written By Aislin
May 21, 2017, 5:17 p.m.(7/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Aleksei
Aleksei Morgan. Former sellsword knight and champion, now Archlector of the First Choice and Paladin of Freedom. How times change...
When I think back on our first meeting -- as he sought me out to speak about the Lost Gods, what seems like forever ago -- it strikes me as odd to realize there was ever a time before I trusted him so deeply. I've worked with him on what feels like dozens of inquiries into forgotten lore relevant to his temple, and he with me on my investigations that led us to the ritual of the paladins.
But if I think back on those earliest meetings, I realize that he's still the same person at heart as he was then -- he's only grown into it. And the Compact, thus far, seems the better for it.
When I think back on our first meeting -- as he sought me out to speak about the Lost Gods, what seems like forever ago -- it strikes me as odd to realize there was ever a time before I trusted him so deeply. I've worked with him on what feels like dozens of inquiries into forgotten lore relevant to his temple, and he with me on my investigations that led us to the ritual of the paladins.
But if I think back on those earliest meetings, I realize that he's still the same person at heart as he was then -- he's only grown into it. And the Compact, thus far, seems the better for it.
Written By Aislin
May 21, 2017, 12:45 p.m.(7/3/1006 AR)
One of my favorite parts of being an explorer, an adventurer, is learning to try to see the world through different eyes. And Prince Mason's recent white journal serves as a reminder to how we can become blind to certain aspects of our own culture that we take for granted.
To an Arvani, auctioning off time with someone may seem harmless; we see someone willingly putting themselves up there, auctioning off not themselves -- or so we tell ourselves -- but their time. And for a good cause! It's only for a short time, after all, and they chose to do so.
But to foreign eyes, it must look like we're play-acting at the slave auctions in Skal'daja, the City of Chains. And perhaps there's less difference than we'd like to admit. If the winning bidder demanded things of their 'purchase' -- to change their hair color, or shave their head, or perform actions they did not want to do -- we cross the line and become what Eurusi eyes see there. I'll admit, the ending of the auction -- around the point where I showed up -- did make me a bit uncomfortable, what with the demands that Count Darkwater change his appearance.
And while I don't think the charity auction is evil or corrupt in intention... it does make me think, nonetheless.
Perhaps we all could stand to learn to look at each other through different eyes, now and then. A Grayson looking at ourselves through Lycene eyes, a Thrax looking at themselves through Valardin eyes, and so on. Or through eyes more foreign still.
To an Arvani, auctioning off time with someone may seem harmless; we see someone willingly putting themselves up there, auctioning off not themselves -- or so we tell ourselves -- but their time. And for a good cause! It's only for a short time, after all, and they chose to do so.
But to foreign eyes, it must look like we're play-acting at the slave auctions in Skal'daja, the City of Chains. And perhaps there's less difference than we'd like to admit. If the winning bidder demanded things of their 'purchase' -- to change their hair color, or shave their head, or perform actions they did not want to do -- we cross the line and become what Eurusi eyes see there. I'll admit, the ending of the auction -- around the point where I showed up -- did make me a bit uncomfortable, what with the demands that Count Darkwater change his appearance.
And while I don't think the charity auction is evil or corrupt in intention... it does make me think, nonetheless.
Perhaps we all could stand to learn to look at each other through different eyes, now and then. A Grayson looking at ourselves through Lycene eyes, a Thrax looking at themselves through Valardin eyes, and so on. Or through eyes more foreign still.
Written By Aislin
May 18, 2017, 11:43 a.m.(6/25/1006 AR)
With the Queen of Endings restored to her rightful place in the Pantheon, death is a topic on many people's minds. But she is also the Mother of Beginnings, the goddess of reincarnation. In truth, though I'm no priestess to judge, I think she is less 'Death' and 'Reincarnation' as two separate aspects, and more simply the goddess of souls -- their ending, their beginning, and their occasional return.
Perhaps her influence being on the rise once again is why the topic of reincarnation has been brought up so many times: to the Scholars, asking for knowledge, to the Society, asking for any lore or ancient scraps we might have found out there in the world, and even to me personally as someone well-traveled.
So I'm going to try to draft what little I know, to see whether it seems useful. And perhaps after I've edited it properly, I'll ask Sister Gisele to bind a finalized copy of this and see whether it might be useful to Archlector Aureth.
So, then: a draft of a treatise on reincarnation...
THE LIFE CYCLE OF A SOUL
From scraps of ancient lore, and the divine event at a religious ceremony not long ago, we can piece together something of the life cycle of a soul.
A fresh-made soul is woven like a tapestry by the Queen of Endings; perhaps from her own substance, perhaps from the substance of Aion's dream. Either way, this new-made soul will enter an unborn child and, hopefully, grow to live its first lifetime.
For some souls, it may end there. They might come to the end of their lifetime and go straight to Elysia, to paradise. They might come to the end of their lifetime at the hands of a Rite of Obliteration -- as the Rex'alfar once did in the Silent City, sacrificing souls themselves for the raw power they can provide -- and their soul could be lost forever, a crime which the Queen cannot abide. Their soul could be consumed by the Silence -- the power of the Queen's dark reflection -- and lost forever. But other souls go to the Shining Lands, to await their next turn on the wheel. To await another lifetime.
Ancient scholars believed that this only applied to heroic souls, the souls who the world would need more than once. Others believe nearly all souls reincarnate, each new life adding to that soul's tapestry. Some believed that with the Queen lost to humanity, reincarnation had come to an end without her, or become very limited or somehow flawed; others believed that she continued to reincarnate us even from afar.
But even if it's not entirely certain the mechanics of why a given soul might return, we know that some souls /do/ indeed return.
HINTS OF A SOUL
Some reincarnated souls have no obvious clues or hints to their reincarnated nature, and might live their entire lifetime without ever learning of previous lifetimes unless some outside force acts to point them to it. In fact, depending on how common reincarnation is, this might prove to be the majority of reincarnated souls.
Other souls, however, have hints at their nature. It might be a sense of deja vu, of familiarity, when they visit some place that was important to their past lifetime, or see a statue of their past self, or even perhaps see someone whose soul's own past life was important to theirs. It might be dreams, memories of their past.
Some hints might be more subtle; a personality trait or quirk that occurs across many lifetimes, for instance. Mannerisms, interests, phobias... any of these could be a hint of a soul, though they're likely not enough to know on their own.
REINCARNATES IN VISIONS
One interesting note is that if a soul happens to be presently incarnate, visions or memories of that past lifetime will often appear as the current incarnation. The voice of some ancient warrior will be recognizable as a soldier you've met. The face of your loved one of centuries past is someone who you pass in the market.
This does mean that reincarnates who have particularly strong ties to each other may well find each other lifetime after lifetime, if they happen to trip a dream or a memory and recognize someone they've seen around the city. However, one can only imagine it's somewhat odd if a near-total stranger proves to be your dearest lover or closest friend from previous lifetimes.
REDISCOVERING YOUR PAST LIVES
There are several ways that people have rediscovered their own past lives. One of the most common is to go to the Hall of Heroes and concentrate on various statues, entering an almost meditative state. If you happen to run across a statue of your past life, or someone important to your past life, it may trigger a vision or a glimpse. Others have sought out shamans who have demonstrated an ability to gaze at someone's soul, where they might get a brief glimpse or glimmer of a hint as to what the soul's past lives were.
Anecdotal evidence across several instances suggests that doing so in cooperation with someone who had strong ties to that lifetime will cause both participants to have a far stronger vision. Not just a mere glimpse, or a single moment, but a crystal clear vision of a particular incident, or a flash of many many moments throughout those past lives. As such, where possible, those looking into reincarnation are encouraged to do so with others who are making similar efforts, at least if there's any reason to think their past lives might have had some connection.
Perhaps her influence being on the rise once again is why the topic of reincarnation has been brought up so many times: to the Scholars, asking for knowledge, to the Society, asking for any lore or ancient scraps we might have found out there in the world, and even to me personally as someone well-traveled.
So I'm going to try to draft what little I know, to see whether it seems useful. And perhaps after I've edited it properly, I'll ask Sister Gisele to bind a finalized copy of this and see whether it might be useful to Archlector Aureth.
So, then: a draft of a treatise on reincarnation...
THE LIFE CYCLE OF A SOUL
From scraps of ancient lore, and the divine event at a religious ceremony not long ago, we can piece together something of the life cycle of a soul.
A fresh-made soul is woven like a tapestry by the Queen of Endings; perhaps from her own substance, perhaps from the substance of Aion's dream. Either way, this new-made soul will enter an unborn child and, hopefully, grow to live its first lifetime.
For some souls, it may end there. They might come to the end of their lifetime and go straight to Elysia, to paradise. They might come to the end of their lifetime at the hands of a Rite of Obliteration -- as the Rex'alfar once did in the Silent City, sacrificing souls themselves for the raw power they can provide -- and their soul could be lost forever, a crime which the Queen cannot abide. Their soul could be consumed by the Silence -- the power of the Queen's dark reflection -- and lost forever. But other souls go to the Shining Lands, to await their next turn on the wheel. To await another lifetime.
Ancient scholars believed that this only applied to heroic souls, the souls who the world would need more than once. Others believe nearly all souls reincarnate, each new life adding to that soul's tapestry. Some believed that with the Queen lost to humanity, reincarnation had come to an end without her, or become very limited or somehow flawed; others believed that she continued to reincarnate us even from afar.
But even if it's not entirely certain the mechanics of why a given soul might return, we know that some souls /do/ indeed return.
HINTS OF A SOUL
Some reincarnated souls have no obvious clues or hints to their reincarnated nature, and might live their entire lifetime without ever learning of previous lifetimes unless some outside force acts to point them to it. In fact, depending on how common reincarnation is, this might prove to be the majority of reincarnated souls.
Other souls, however, have hints at their nature. It might be a sense of deja vu, of familiarity, when they visit some place that was important to their past lifetime, or see a statue of their past self, or even perhaps see someone whose soul's own past life was important to theirs. It might be dreams, memories of their past.
Some hints might be more subtle; a personality trait or quirk that occurs across many lifetimes, for instance. Mannerisms, interests, phobias... any of these could be a hint of a soul, though they're likely not enough to know on their own.
REINCARNATES IN VISIONS
One interesting note is that if a soul happens to be presently incarnate, visions or memories of that past lifetime will often appear as the current incarnation. The voice of some ancient warrior will be recognizable as a soldier you've met. The face of your loved one of centuries past is someone who you pass in the market.
This does mean that reincarnates who have particularly strong ties to each other may well find each other lifetime after lifetime, if they happen to trip a dream or a memory and recognize someone they've seen around the city. However, one can only imagine it's somewhat odd if a near-total stranger proves to be your dearest lover or closest friend from previous lifetimes.
REDISCOVERING YOUR PAST LIVES
There are several ways that people have rediscovered their own past lives. One of the most common is to go to the Hall of Heroes and concentrate on various statues, entering an almost meditative state. If you happen to run across a statue of your past life, or someone important to your past life, it may trigger a vision or a glimpse. Others have sought out shamans who have demonstrated an ability to gaze at someone's soul, where they might get a brief glimpse or glimmer of a hint as to what the soul's past lives were.
Anecdotal evidence across several instances suggests that doing so in cooperation with someone who had strong ties to that lifetime will cause both participants to have a far stronger vision. Not just a mere glimpse, or a single moment, but a crystal clear vision of a particular incident, or a flash of many many moments throughout those past lives. As such, where possible, those looking into reincarnation are encouraged to do so with others who are making similar efforts, at least if there's any reason to think their past lives might have had some connection.
Written By Aislin
May 7, 2017, 10:34 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
We held the day.
Well, and by 'we' and I mean the collective forces of Arx held the day; I don't delude myself into thinking my sword made much difference at the Seawatch Gate, and gods know I was wearing more of my own blood than that of the enemies by the end.
But we, the people of Arx -- of the Compact, maybe even of Arvum, given the decisive role that the former Abandoned who bent the knee to Samantha played -- held the day. We all stood together, faced the darkness, and turned back the tide. And if the paladins struck the killing blow, the time to do so was bought by thousands of other blades, and lives, on the battlefield.
I can only hope this stands as a reminder of what the Compact was founded to be -- and what a difference we can make when we DO stand together.
(Sadly, I suspect we will forget it all too soon, and turn back to quarreling amongst ourselves; centuries of history -- on Arvum and elsewhere -- suggest that's simply human nature.)
Well, and by 'we' and I mean the collective forces of Arx held the day; I don't delude myself into thinking my sword made much difference at the Seawatch Gate, and gods know I was wearing more of my own blood than that of the enemies by the end.
But we, the people of Arx -- of the Compact, maybe even of Arvum, given the decisive role that the former Abandoned who bent the knee to Samantha played -- held the day. We all stood together, faced the darkness, and turned back the tide. And if the paladins struck the killing blow, the time to do so was bought by thousands of other blades, and lives, on the battlefield.
I can only hope this stands as a reminder of what the Compact was founded to be -- and what a difference we can make when we DO stand together.
(Sadly, I suspect we will forget it all too soon, and turn back to quarreling amongst ourselves; centuries of history -- on Arvum and elsewhere -- suggest that's simply human nature.)
Written By Aislin
May 6, 2017, 11:49 a.m.(5/28/1006 AR)
I am not an eloquent writer. I can be /verbose/, gods know, and I like to think thorough as well. But I'm not one of those who writes an elegant entry that inspires with just the perfect words -- much less one that will be referred to centuries from now. But a fight like the one we face deserves at least an effort.
Because while I have every faith that we -- Arx, the Compact, Arvum -- will survive this cataclysm, just as we've survived others... there will be lives spent to buy that survival. And any one of us -- myself included -- could fall, defending the walls.
I've long thought we stand in a catacomb of ignorance; we're surrounded by ornate carvings on the walls, the crumbled and shattered remains of some grand mosaic of the world at our feet, and we can see none of it in the darkness. A torch shows us only a little at a time -- rarely enough to truly understand what we're glimpsing. A carving of a wolf... is that a sign of a threat? The sigil of a god? Some grand and forgotten spirit of the wilds? What does it mean about how the pieces of the mosaic fit together? We stumble around blind in the dark, squinting and hoping to catch a glimpse of what's around us.
For years, I've wanted to piece that mosaic together for reasons that I told myself were Vellichorian -- to restore knowledge -- but which, if I were wholly honest, were also selfish: I am an innately curious individual, and I wanted to /know/. To understand the forgotten bits of history I kept stumbling across, or glimpse even a part of what that mosaic -- what our world -- looks like when properly put together. And so I tried to make myself a torch -- a light, so I could glimpse that catacomb around me.
But the truth is, that mosaic isn't merely an artwork; it is a guidebook. As we piece it back together, hidden in its imagery, we find the forgotten lore we need to fight the things out there that threaten us. Things like Brand and his army. And the greater threats still looming. Somewhere along the way, my road became less about satisfying my own curiosity, and more about restoring those tools to us.
One torch is hardly enough to help us put this back together. And there are so many ways to light a torch. Curiosity to learn of our past, or to see what's over that next hill -- to bring back the missing pieces. A burning desire to defend others, to be the shining sword that cuts a path into the darkness. To do the /impossible/, and show people that it's possible after all.
Every time a scholar uncovers some forgotten ritual to fight the abyss, that gives us hope and lights another torch. Every time a researcher finds a new way to see Bringers weakened, that gives a bit more hope. Every time an explorer returns with some forgotten relic, or tales of some old battle against these sort of things which we /survived/, that gives a bit more hope. And every time a warrior strikes a dramatic blow -- shows that even now, people can aspire to the examples left to us in the Hall of Heroes -- that lights a torch of hope as well.
The past two years have been tumultuous ones, both on a personal level and an /existential/ one: we've met /elves/, three missing gods have been restored to the pantheon, and we've learned more about the strengths and weaknesses of abyssal creatures than we would have thought possible. Fighting darkly supernatural things is becoming commonplace. And somewhere in all of that, I've made -- and lost -- friends who influenced me, shaped me, more than I wanted to admit. Those who I'll miss fiercely -- Vincere, Pietro, Dawn -- and those who I'm glad to have at my side now. And gods know I never expected anything about my relationship with Niamh, or how fiercely I feel for her.
And in that time, through the friends we've made -- and the examples of the friends we've lost to the fight -- and the things we've found along that way... many more torches have been lit. And I hope that for everyone who falls, the embers of whatever torch they might have been carried will be used to light two more. That slowly, more and more of the catacomb around us will be revealed, and more of the mosaic put together.
And so when the /next/ threat comes, the Compact will be that much more prepared to face it on behalf of all Arvum.
I take comfort in that.
Because while I have every faith that we -- Arx, the Compact, Arvum -- will survive this cataclysm, just as we've survived others... there will be lives spent to buy that survival. And any one of us -- myself included -- could fall, defending the walls.
I've long thought we stand in a catacomb of ignorance; we're surrounded by ornate carvings on the walls, the crumbled and shattered remains of some grand mosaic of the world at our feet, and we can see none of it in the darkness. A torch shows us only a little at a time -- rarely enough to truly understand what we're glimpsing. A carving of a wolf... is that a sign of a threat? The sigil of a god? Some grand and forgotten spirit of the wilds? What does it mean about how the pieces of the mosaic fit together? We stumble around blind in the dark, squinting and hoping to catch a glimpse of what's around us.
For years, I've wanted to piece that mosaic together for reasons that I told myself were Vellichorian -- to restore knowledge -- but which, if I were wholly honest, were also selfish: I am an innately curious individual, and I wanted to /know/. To understand the forgotten bits of history I kept stumbling across, or glimpse even a part of what that mosaic -- what our world -- looks like when properly put together. And so I tried to make myself a torch -- a light, so I could glimpse that catacomb around me.
But the truth is, that mosaic isn't merely an artwork; it is a guidebook. As we piece it back together, hidden in its imagery, we find the forgotten lore we need to fight the things out there that threaten us. Things like Brand and his army. And the greater threats still looming. Somewhere along the way, my road became less about satisfying my own curiosity, and more about restoring those tools to us.
One torch is hardly enough to help us put this back together. And there are so many ways to light a torch. Curiosity to learn of our past, or to see what's over that next hill -- to bring back the missing pieces. A burning desire to defend others, to be the shining sword that cuts a path into the darkness. To do the /impossible/, and show people that it's possible after all.
Every time a scholar uncovers some forgotten ritual to fight the abyss, that gives us hope and lights another torch. Every time a researcher finds a new way to see Bringers weakened, that gives a bit more hope. Every time an explorer returns with some forgotten relic, or tales of some old battle against these sort of things which we /survived/, that gives a bit more hope. And every time a warrior strikes a dramatic blow -- shows that even now, people can aspire to the examples left to us in the Hall of Heroes -- that lights a torch of hope as well.
The past two years have been tumultuous ones, both on a personal level and an /existential/ one: we've met /elves/, three missing gods have been restored to the pantheon, and we've learned more about the strengths and weaknesses of abyssal creatures than we would have thought possible. Fighting darkly supernatural things is becoming commonplace. And somewhere in all of that, I've made -- and lost -- friends who influenced me, shaped me, more than I wanted to admit. Those who I'll miss fiercely -- Vincere, Pietro, Dawn -- and those who I'm glad to have at my side now. And gods know I never expected anything about my relationship with Niamh, or how fiercely I feel for her.
And in that time, through the friends we've made -- and the examples of the friends we've lost to the fight -- and the things we've found along that way... many more torches have been lit. And I hope that for everyone who falls, the embers of whatever torch they might have been carried will be used to light two more. That slowly, more and more of the catacomb around us will be revealed, and more of the mosaic put together.
And so when the /next/ threat comes, the Compact will be that much more prepared to face it on behalf of all Arvum.
I take comfort in that.
Written By Aislin
April 30, 2017, 7:46 p.m.(5/15/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Korka
Korka is an interesting woman -- a few years older than me, and someone who seems to have her ear to the ground. I have high hopes that she might prove to be a friend to the Society; we can always use a few more ears out there in the city, those who hear rumors from traders and travelers of interesting things spotted out in the wilds. Things worth sending explorers to look into, to flesh out that much more of the map.
If nothing else, however, she proved an interesting conversational partner.
If nothing else, however, she proved an interesting conversational partner.
Written By Aislin
April 30, 2017, 5:11 p.m.(5/15/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Armel
I met Sir Armel for the first time recently, just before his elevation to Grandmaster. He strikes me as more of a kindred spirit than I expected; another who yearns to see what might be over that hill, or down the next road. And the truth is, our purposes along those roads are no longer so disparate as they might be; once it was curiosity that motivated me, but now there's a greater motive in finding the lost information of the world.
He'll be a good Grandmaster; he has my congratulations, and also my condolences.
He'll be a good Grandmaster; he has my congratulations, and also my condolences.
Written By Aislin
April 29, 2017, 5:08 p.m.(5/13/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Niamh
How do I even begin to describe this woman? The little things she does to show how she feels?
Someone who strives so hard to make my life an adventure, even when I'm trapped within the walls.
She caught my heart the first time by turning my treehouse into the wider world, setting up a campsite, and inviting me off on a journey to ride a griffin to faraway lands -- across the sea to Eurus, or past the wastes to Cardia. To see the far realms that only a handful of Arvani have ever glimpsed. The same sort of adventures I used to have as a child, riding my griffin Cloudstriker to distant lands.
And now... now a book. Most of the pages missing, telling a story of a necklace she gave me. Setting an adventure through a forgotten myth, a trail of puzzles and riddles to follow to assemble the tale.
Someday, I need to find what will fill her heart with hope -- with life -- the same way she fills mine with these gestures. To show her how much she truly means to me.
Someone who strives so hard to make my life an adventure, even when I'm trapped within the walls.
She caught my heart the first time by turning my treehouse into the wider world, setting up a campsite, and inviting me off on a journey to ride a griffin to faraway lands -- across the sea to Eurus, or past the wastes to Cardia. To see the far realms that only a handful of Arvani have ever glimpsed. The same sort of adventures I used to have as a child, riding my griffin Cloudstriker to distant lands.
And now... now a book. Most of the pages missing, telling a story of a necklace she gave me. Setting an adventure through a forgotten myth, a trail of puzzles and riddles to follow to assemble the tale.
Someday, I need to find what will fill her heart with hope -- with life -- the same way she fills mine with these gestures. To show her how much she truly means to me.
Written By Aislin
April 23, 2017, 2:52 p.m.(5/1/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Niamh
The Order of the Golden Dragon.
I don't really know how I feel about this.
There's part of me that's so proud, that feels /full/, at seeing someone I love step up to try to push back the darkness. Gods know, once there were dozens of Orders out there, each with their own goals -- some seeking knowledge, some seeking power, yes, but many of them seeking just to keep the world from ending. Seeking to keep humanity alive.
We could use that again, with the darkness rising.
But I've lost so many people, too. My father dead. Vincere and Pietro dead. Dawn missing. The list goes on.
The idea of the woman I love putting herself in harm's way like that... it makes me uneasy. Selfish as that is, it does.
But I'll put that aside, and cheer as loudly as any others.
(Though this is, I imagine, how people feel about Ashfords much of the time; I can't imagine my own adventuring leaves Nia sleeping entirely easily, either...)
I don't really know how I feel about this.
There's part of me that's so proud, that feels /full/, at seeing someone I love step up to try to push back the darkness. Gods know, once there were dozens of Orders out there, each with their own goals -- some seeking knowledge, some seeking power, yes, but many of them seeking just to keep the world from ending. Seeking to keep humanity alive.
We could use that again, with the darkness rising.
But I've lost so many people, too. My father dead. Vincere and Pietro dead. Dawn missing. The list goes on.
The idea of the woman I love putting herself in harm's way like that... it makes me uneasy. Selfish as that is, it does.
But I'll put that aside, and cheer as loudly as any others.
(Though this is, I imagine, how people feel about Ashfords much of the time; I can't imagine my own adventuring leaves Nia sleeping entirely easily, either...)
Written By Aislin
April 5, 2017, 9:43 p.m.(3/20/1006 AR)
Someone asked me a while ago -- someone who knew me when I was little -- why I don't wear dresses or gowns anymore, not like I used to do when I wasn't in the field. I used to come home, take off the armor, and put on a dress, or a tunic and leggings if I planned to climb trees or something similar. But now I'm always dressed in leather armor, and they wondered why.
And I gave them my usual answer: that nowadays we should always be ready, when you never know when you might wish you were armored. But the thing is, that's not the truth.
Or not the whole truth, anyway.
The truth is, I stopped when my face was scarred. I think it started as a shield. A woman with a scarred face wearing armor looks like someone who's ready to meet and challenge the world, someone prepared. But a woman with a scarred face in silks? In a dress? An object of pity. And there are few things worse to see in someone's eyes than pity.
After a certain point, though, it just started to feel like me. The leather armor and sword have become as much a part of me as my arm, my eyes. In some ways, I feel naked and defenseless without the armor now.
But sometimes... sometimes I do miss it. Just a bit.
And I gave them my usual answer: that nowadays we should always be ready, when you never know when you might wish you were armored. But the thing is, that's not the truth.
Or not the whole truth, anyway.
The truth is, I stopped when my face was scarred. I think it started as a shield. A woman with a scarred face wearing armor looks like someone who's ready to meet and challenge the world, someone prepared. But a woman with a scarred face in silks? In a dress? An object of pity. And there are few things worse to see in someone's eyes than pity.
After a certain point, though, it just started to feel like me. The leather armor and sword have become as much a part of me as my arm, my eyes. In some ways, I feel naked and defenseless without the armor now.
But sometimes... sometimes I do miss it. Just a bit.
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