Written By Fatima
Dec. 28, 2023, 4:44 p.m.(6/15/1021 AR)
I, too, witnessed the fall of the malevolent taskmasters of Glor'Ruus. Those who wish to sail to Eurus and support a free Eurus, I intend to sail as soon as a fleet can be assembled to cause even the Dune Emperor to tremble in fear.
Let us teach the Dune Kingdoms what it means to be free.
Join with me. The time is now!
Princess Fatima Masah'Malak
Heir to the Throne of Petrioch
Let us teach the Dune Kingdoms what it means to be free.
Join with me. The time is now!
Princess Fatima Masah'Malak
Heir to the Throne of Petrioch
Written By Eirene
Dec. 28, 2023, 12:01 p.m.(6/14/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Tyrval
Does this mean Tyrval is the Best and most Knowledgable Blood Mage in all Arvum now?
Written By Anisha
Dec. 28, 2023, 11:57 a.m.(6/14/1021 AR)
I, for one, am very pleased that the Crown Prince of the Nox'Alfar isn't mad.
Written By Mattheu
Dec. 28, 2023, 11:32 a.m.(6/14/1021 AR)
This world is going to change faster than it ever has before. We've always known magic was something which could break us. Anyone that fought within the Silent War knows this. I don't care which side you were on, if it was to your own choice or not to do so. That is in the past.
Though it is that past which is now free. Everything which the Ravashari have sought to prevent might have been made by individuals who were seeking to better a world that they knew. To be able to restart so to say, and to be able to kill the one who we've been at war with for many of our families lifetimes. A name that can finally be spoken as a bedtime story of caution, and not one to be wary of at every turn.
We were charged to this dream to ensure another choice would not be made.
I hope that what was made brings about better and doesn't plunge us further into a darkness which we will never recover from. For that is a vision which I don't thrust upon anyone. I have lived that life briefly.
No one else should have to.
Though it is that past which is now free. Everything which the Ravashari have sought to prevent might have been made by individuals who were seeking to better a world that they knew. To be able to restart so to say, and to be able to kill the one who we've been at war with for many of our families lifetimes. A name that can finally be spoken as a bedtime story of caution, and not one to be wary of at every turn.
We were charged to this dream to ensure another choice would not be made.
I hope that what was made brings about better and doesn't plunge us further into a darkness which we will never recover from. For that is a vision which I don't thrust upon anyone. I have lived that life briefly.
No one else should have to.
Written By Mattheu
Dec. 28, 2023, 10:55 a.m.(6/14/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Esme
Potato Advisor.
Written By Kenjay
Dec. 28, 2023, 7:05 a.m.(6/14/1021 AR)
I have dreamed of a land that is far away, and a place that I have been to but once.
The Great Cathedral of Bloodied Swords was a place I went to with one of my owners, in the days before I became well-known in Skal'daja's arenas. I was there to see the glory that awaited my fellow slaves and myself should my owner desire it; he came away having determined that he did not desire it enough to risk losing his acquisitions in a single throw of the dice.
It was a place of terror and suffering, a place where the champions of the City of Tyrants fought to the death so that their owners might have the right to boast. I saw feats performed there that I could not readily speak of on returning to Arvum; feats of power and magic that, if mentioned, would have branded me fit only for the Mercies and left those I encountered sure that my wits had been broken with my spirit in the City of Chains.
But in this dream, the Whiplords were destroyed before my eyes, exploding and turning to dust, and I rejoiced. The princes of Glor'ruus laid low in a moment, and the roar of the powers they had held chained rising up against them in freedom at last. And my own writ is gone, freeing my tongue and my body both.
I do not find it in me to feel pity for the masters. I feel instead only kinship with those who, like me, bore chains, and found themselves free. The streets of the Dune Kingdoms will be awash with blood, and may the gods forgive me but I feel only joy at that prospect. Death to the slavers, and freedom for the owned.
I have a place here, a place hard-won in duty and in honour. But I am tempted, nonetheless, to return to the Dune Kingdoms. I once swore that I would only return to free the city; the city has been freed, and my promise fulfilled through no action of my own. And so I am torn. To stay in Arvum as one of the Silver Swords, or to return to the city in which I was chained, and teach others how to be free.
The Great Cathedral of Bloodied Swords was a place I went to with one of my owners, in the days before I became well-known in Skal'daja's arenas. I was there to see the glory that awaited my fellow slaves and myself should my owner desire it; he came away having determined that he did not desire it enough to risk losing his acquisitions in a single throw of the dice.
It was a place of terror and suffering, a place where the champions of the City of Tyrants fought to the death so that their owners might have the right to boast. I saw feats performed there that I could not readily speak of on returning to Arvum; feats of power and magic that, if mentioned, would have branded me fit only for the Mercies and left those I encountered sure that my wits had been broken with my spirit in the City of Chains.
But in this dream, the Whiplords were destroyed before my eyes, exploding and turning to dust, and I rejoiced. The princes of Glor'ruus laid low in a moment, and the roar of the powers they had held chained rising up against them in freedom at last. And my own writ is gone, freeing my tongue and my body both.
I do not find it in me to feel pity for the masters. I feel instead only kinship with those who, like me, bore chains, and found themselves free. The streets of the Dune Kingdoms will be awash with blood, and may the gods forgive me but I feel only joy at that prospect. Death to the slavers, and freedom for the owned.
I have a place here, a place hard-won in duty and in honour. But I am tempted, nonetheless, to return to the Dune Kingdoms. I once swore that I would only return to free the city; the city has been freed, and my promise fulfilled through no action of my own. And so I am torn. To stay in Arvum as one of the Silver Swords, or to return to the city in which I was chained, and teach others how to be free.
Written By Pasquale
Dec. 28, 2023, 4:01 a.m.(6/14/1021 AR)
Some time ago, when the armies of the Horned Traitor were still rampaging around Greyson lands, and causing untold harm, I reached out to the leaders of Valardin, Redrain and Greyson and asked if they would share the information they held on his armies, their movements, and anything else that seemed to match.
To my surprise they agreed.
And so I, supported by Titus Vaevici and Jan Kennex, set about trying to work out just what the army was up to.
It took quite some time and the death of more than a few writing implements but eventually we figured out that the ruse of a withdrawal after the siege here in Arx was just that - A ruse.
And whilst he pretended he was beaten evidence suggested that he had withdrawn to a place almost forgotten to us all - Harrow Hall.
This time when I took the information I held to the Highlords I was not surprised by their co-operation.
I have nothing but praise for the way we all worked together in these difficult times. We could have simply ran to the various corner of the Compact and hid, or fought over scraps of glory and fame - But instead we chose to unite. We chose to stand together and fight.
I am beyond fortunate to have lived to see it.
To my surprise they agreed.
And so I, supported by Titus Vaevici and Jan Kennex, set about trying to work out just what the army was up to.
It took quite some time and the death of more than a few writing implements but eventually we figured out that the ruse of a withdrawal after the siege here in Arx was just that - A ruse.
And whilst he pretended he was beaten evidence suggested that he had withdrawn to a place almost forgotten to us all - Harrow Hall.
This time when I took the information I held to the Highlords I was not surprised by their co-operation.
I have nothing but praise for the way we all worked together in these difficult times. We could have simply ran to the various corner of the Compact and hid, or fought over scraps of glory and fame - But instead we chose to unite. We chose to stand together and fight.
I am beyond fortunate to have lived to see it.
Written By Ferrando
Dec. 28, 2023, 2:45 a.m.(6/13/1021 AR)
You know, I was finally going to sit down and write about what a relief it was to make it through the battle at Harrow Hall and finally defeat the Herald of Skald's dark reflection and then right before I do I hear about King Calithex proclaiming Dear The Compact I'm leaving the continent and good luck with the upcoming wars.
That's not ominous or anything!
That's not ominous or anything!
Written By Medeia
Dec. 27, 2023, 10:43 p.m.(6/13/1021 AR)
Eventually, the time came for Lucita to summon me to Arx to help represent the house. This was coupled with a nearly simultaneous appointment to be the house's Minister of the Hearth. While I had no issue taking on the heightened responsibilities, I would be lying if I said I didn't experience some worry about being here again.
Those first several weeks are a swirling mess of memories: "breakfast" conversations with Martino at the Black Fox, seeking out Tanith to tell her the truth of my disappearance and identity, meeting so many people - some of whom are still a regular part of my life all these years later, joining the Harlequins, actually getting a chance to spend time with my sister, discovering that Cassimir was alive - I'd had so little good information about what had happened to that side of my family. It felt like, maybe, the past wouldn't keep nipping at my heels.
Amid all this, there was a lord who was inspired to great foolishness in my presence. Repeatedly. By all accounts, he was a serious young man who held to his convictions - resolute, one might say. But how he stumbled over his words, the inelegant ways in which he sought my attention, and the efforts he undertook to impress me? I had never experienced anything as sweet. It seemed like I was permanently blushing, in awe of him praising Jayus because of me, shouting to the stars that I was more beautiful than they, telling me that I was his favorite part of the city.
And then, one day, it just stopped. All of his warmth - like a sunny clearing boasting wildflowers - had been replaced by an aloofness as chilling as the Shadowwood. It might seem entirely silly that such a thing made me consider returning home. Maybe I should have. Reeling from that sudden shift left me in a vulnerable place.
I'm usually right when I worry.
Those first several weeks are a swirling mess of memories: "breakfast" conversations with Martino at the Black Fox, seeking out Tanith to tell her the truth of my disappearance and identity, meeting so many people - some of whom are still a regular part of my life all these years later, joining the Harlequins, actually getting a chance to spend time with my sister, discovering that Cassimir was alive - I'd had so little good information about what had happened to that side of my family. It felt like, maybe, the past wouldn't keep nipping at my heels.
Amid all this, there was a lord who was inspired to great foolishness in my presence. Repeatedly. By all accounts, he was a serious young man who held to his convictions - resolute, one might say. But how he stumbled over his words, the inelegant ways in which he sought my attention, and the efforts he undertook to impress me? I had never experienced anything as sweet. It seemed like I was permanently blushing, in awe of him praising Jayus because of me, shouting to the stars that I was more beautiful than they, telling me that I was his favorite part of the city.
And then, one day, it just stopped. All of his warmth - like a sunny clearing boasting wildflowers - had been replaced by an aloofness as chilling as the Shadowwood. It might seem entirely silly that such a thing made me consider returning home. Maybe I should have. Reeling from that sudden shift left me in a vulnerable place.
I'm usually right when I worry.
Written By Tesha
Dec. 27, 2023, 10:01 p.m.(6/13/1021 AR)
The fact that my eye has started to heal is...not the weirdest thing that has happened.
I think that I can thank my dragon friend for this and I am eternally grateful.
I think that I can thank my dragon friend for this and I am eternally grateful.
Written By Aconite
Dec. 27, 2023, 9:04 p.m.(6/13/1021 AR)
I have not forgotten.
I will never forget where I came from even if I cannot remember who I am.
I love you all so dearly.
Break free.
Escape.
Search.
Find.
A life entirely your own.
I will find a way to aid you.
We will find a way to break His altar.
I am tired of Tyrants.
I will never forget where I came from even if I cannot remember who I am.
I love you all so dearly.
Break free.
Escape.
Search.
Find.
A life entirely your own.
I will find a way to aid you.
We will find a way to break His altar.
I am tired of Tyrants.
Written By Bliss
Dec. 27, 2023, 6:37 p.m.(6/13/1021 AR)
Huh.
Written By Rosalind
Dec. 27, 2023, 12:15 p.m.(6/12/1021 AR)
I wonder what my dreams will be like now...
Written By Neviah
Dec. 27, 2023, 8:20 a.m.(6/12/1021 AR)
When something winters in a glass room, how ready is it for the shattering?
Written By Sen'azala
Dec. 27, 2023, 12:56 a.m.(6/11/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Titus
I'm relatively confident that I disagree strenuously on whatever this is about.
Written By Titus
Dec. 26, 2023, 6:25 p.m.(6/11/1021 AR)
One day, he will return. Sometimes things are better either to be forced to Linger, or to be Forgotten Forever.
Written By Lys
Dec. 26, 2023, 3:02 p.m.(6/10/1021 AR)
I woke from a dream with the scent of fire on my tongue and strange words upon my lips. And a sudden longing for a friend I have not seen in a very long time. I wonder where they wander now?
Written By Mabelle
Dec. 26, 2023, 2:58 p.m.(6/10/1021 AR)
If someone abruptly broke a tradition holding a thousand years, I'd might get suspicious too.
Written By Claude
Dec. 26, 2023, 10:58 a.m.(6/10/1021 AR)
My name is Claude. Though that might not be the name I was born with. I cannot be sure.
I come from the Mourning Isles. My home was destroyed by the Gyre. I was a refugee. I found a home in Deepwood thanks to the kindness of Dame Zhayla and Marquessa Samantha Deepwood. My new home was destroyed by the creature calling himself the Horned God.
Now there are refugees appearing throughout the Compact. Those without memory.
That was once myself. I was enslaved by the Gyre. Koraj Marin. I was enslaved by Writ. Thanks to those devoted to the First Choice, I was lucky enough to be freed from that Writ. But there was a price... I remember precious little of my life before. I had a family. Sometimes I dream of their faces. I cannot remember their names. Some days I wonder if they ever existed at all.
I write this because these refugees seem like myself. With the death of the Traitor they have been freed of the Writ that was enslaving them. I have no proof of this except my own experience.
I simply ask you treat them kindly. They may have done and witnessed things they had no choice of. They may remember the horrors they inflicted upon others helpless to resist. This dissonance is hard to bear.
I beg for your compassion, your understanding and your forgiveness.
I come from the Mourning Isles. My home was destroyed by the Gyre. I was a refugee. I found a home in Deepwood thanks to the kindness of Dame Zhayla and Marquessa Samantha Deepwood. My new home was destroyed by the creature calling himself the Horned God.
Now there are refugees appearing throughout the Compact. Those without memory.
That was once myself. I was enslaved by the Gyre. Koraj Marin. I was enslaved by Writ. Thanks to those devoted to the First Choice, I was lucky enough to be freed from that Writ. But there was a price... I remember precious little of my life before. I had a family. Sometimes I dream of their faces. I cannot remember their names. Some days I wonder if they ever existed at all.
I write this because these refugees seem like myself. With the death of the Traitor they have been freed of the Writ that was enslaving them. I have no proof of this except my own experience.
I simply ask you treat them kindly. They may have done and witnessed things they had no choice of. They may remember the horrors they inflicted upon others helpless to resist. This dissonance is hard to bear.
I beg for your compassion, your understanding and your forgiveness.
Written By Duarte
Dec. 26, 2023, 4:16 a.m.(6/10/1021 AR)
Journal
The aftermath of the dream left me in a state not unlike madness. My room became like a prison through weeks of terror-laden wakefulness and tormented sleep. It was my first foray into self-imposed exile as I stood a vigil against what seemed like watchful shadows.
Visitors came and went. Mirari Corsetina and Orathy Culler the most frequent among them. But it was Mirari whose words and insights carried pieces of a vastly larger puzzle. Pieces that, when I started putting them together, began to offer me a glimpse into what it was that pursued me.
In the maelstrom of sleepless nights and fevered days, I began to work out a plan. I would open a casino. It would be a haven in the boroughs of distraction and escape. A place where stories would be spun and fortunes made and lost in the turn of a card or the roll of the dice. And if you, dear reader, find no connection between my troubles and this venture, then I'll allow you to wonder. For me, it was a needed lifeline.
As I wrestled with sanity in those troubling days, a threat was looming off the shores of Setarco. The Gyre was coming. And I desperately needed to get out of Arx - for a time, at least.
I packed a few belongings and set my sights Southward. I was looking to make myself useful. Useful in a way I knew how to be. I needed something all-consuming to stave off this insidious gnawing: counter-espionage.
Arriving home, Setarco and Nilanza's shipping lanes were a mess. People were frantic, and leaving, as fear settled upon the cities for word of the Gyre's forces drawing ever near. Yet, there was an influx of prodigals who had been displaced by the Gyre's wrath. But they weren't fleeing, they were staying; keeping mostly to themselves as they snatched up jobs left behind by the skittish natives. This rallied suspicion. Not only did their silence speak volumes, but if they intended to get away from the Gyre, why run directly into his path?
I made my observations and took my notes.
As the Gyre drew near, I was joined by Prince Alistair Velenosa and Princess Saoirse Velenosa, to root out agents of the Gyre and infiltration. By all accounts, we did the job well.
And I was there when the Gyre landed off the shore and battle ensued. While I'm not much for swinging a sword myself, I was there - pacing the corridors of Pravus Manor and drinking until I was numb with the rest of the unbattle-tested. And the reports coming in were far too detailed to have been embellished.
The aftermath of the dream left me in a state not unlike madness. My room became like a prison through weeks of terror-laden wakefulness and tormented sleep. It was my first foray into self-imposed exile as I stood a vigil against what seemed like watchful shadows.
Visitors came and went. Mirari Corsetina and Orathy Culler the most frequent among them. But it was Mirari whose words and insights carried pieces of a vastly larger puzzle. Pieces that, when I started putting them together, began to offer me a glimpse into what it was that pursued me.
In the maelstrom of sleepless nights and fevered days, I began to work out a plan. I would open a casino. It would be a haven in the boroughs of distraction and escape. A place where stories would be spun and fortunes made and lost in the turn of a card or the roll of the dice. And if you, dear reader, find no connection between my troubles and this venture, then I'll allow you to wonder. For me, it was a needed lifeline.
As I wrestled with sanity in those troubling days, a threat was looming off the shores of Setarco. The Gyre was coming. And I desperately needed to get out of Arx - for a time, at least.
I packed a few belongings and set my sights Southward. I was looking to make myself useful. Useful in a way I knew how to be. I needed something all-consuming to stave off this insidious gnawing: counter-espionage.
Arriving home, Setarco and Nilanza's shipping lanes were a mess. People were frantic, and leaving, as fear settled upon the cities for word of the Gyre's forces drawing ever near. Yet, there was an influx of prodigals who had been displaced by the Gyre's wrath. But they weren't fleeing, they were staying; keeping mostly to themselves as they snatched up jobs left behind by the skittish natives. This rallied suspicion. Not only did their silence speak volumes, but if they intended to get away from the Gyre, why run directly into his path?
I made my observations and took my notes.
As the Gyre drew near, I was joined by Prince Alistair Velenosa and Princess Saoirse Velenosa, to root out agents of the Gyre and infiltration. By all accounts, we did the job well.
And I was there when the Gyre landed off the shore and battle ensued. While I'm not much for swinging a sword myself, I was there - pacing the corridors of Pravus Manor and drinking until I was numb with the rest of the unbattle-tested. And the reports coming in were far too detailed to have been embellished.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.