Written By Aureth
March 31, 2017, 2:25 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)
You know ...
I was always a city boy. I've barely even left the walls. I mean, I have, sometimes -- mostly to go to the beach, though, or the woods just beyond the walls, to hurry back in to safety and sanctuary (hah) with the familiar and known. Maybe that's why I've never had much to say to Petrichor in particular. I mean, besides ... thanks for the harvest, particularly when the mash is good or the beer is fine, although that's almost more Mangata's parlance, and anyway, I've always been big on food and drink, even before I owned the bar. It's been mine awhile now, and soon it won't be anymore, but I have to admit, it always felt kind of ... transitional, like I was just taking care of it for the family on the way to being something else.
The shrine is peaceful, though. The whisper of the breeze through the branches. The crunch of the snow under foot. The heavy weight of the log benches. The smell of it, the natural, earthy smell. I've always been a city boy, but for a few minutes I felt more at peace outside than I have in a long time. Even those of us who wallow comfortably in the slummy urbanity can find a little sweet oxygen amongst the branches, I guess.
Fortunato talked to me about sanctuary. About faith as a shielding thing. And yeah, maybe that's where. Maybe tied in with Gild and hospitality. But home and hearth and warmth and safety. I've always wanted to hold that sacred. Even before I ever wanted to hold anything sacred, before I even thought in terms of sacredness, there were things that were important to me.
When I stood in that graveyard and stared into nothing and waited for those veiled bastards to come, and come again, I wasn't just terrified. I was furious. Because that's her place. Our place. Her City. Holy ground.
Fuck Tolamar Brand, my lady. We've a whole world to hold safe.
My prayer to you, Petrichor, for the whole world; for home and harvest; for the land underfoot, for the trees around us, for bruised pine scent on the air. My prayer to you for the bounds of sanctuary and safety, for the walls we create, for the peace of your shrine.
May I never take you for granted again.
I was always a city boy. I've barely even left the walls. I mean, I have, sometimes -- mostly to go to the beach, though, or the woods just beyond the walls, to hurry back in to safety and sanctuary (hah) with the familiar and known. Maybe that's why I've never had much to say to Petrichor in particular. I mean, besides ... thanks for the harvest, particularly when the mash is good or the beer is fine, although that's almost more Mangata's parlance, and anyway, I've always been big on food and drink, even before I owned the bar. It's been mine awhile now, and soon it won't be anymore, but I have to admit, it always felt kind of ... transitional, like I was just taking care of it for the family on the way to being something else.
The shrine is peaceful, though. The whisper of the breeze through the branches. The crunch of the snow under foot. The heavy weight of the log benches. The smell of it, the natural, earthy smell. I've always been a city boy, but for a few minutes I felt more at peace outside than I have in a long time. Even those of us who wallow comfortably in the slummy urbanity can find a little sweet oxygen amongst the branches, I guess.
Fortunato talked to me about sanctuary. About faith as a shielding thing. And yeah, maybe that's where. Maybe tied in with Gild and hospitality. But home and hearth and warmth and safety. I've always wanted to hold that sacred. Even before I ever wanted to hold anything sacred, before I even thought in terms of sacredness, there were things that were important to me.
When I stood in that graveyard and stared into nothing and waited for those veiled bastards to come, and come again, I wasn't just terrified. I was furious. Because that's her place. Our place. Her City. Holy ground.
Fuck Tolamar Brand, my lady. We've a whole world to hold safe.
My prayer to you, Petrichor, for the whole world; for home and harvest; for the land underfoot, for the trees around us, for bruised pine scent on the air. My prayer to you for the bounds of sanctuary and safety, for the walls we create, for the peace of your shrine.
May I never take you for granted again.
Written By Aureth
March 29, 2017, 1:57 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Magpie
We really need to find Magpie a date. He's so lonely.
Written By Aureth
March 28, 2017, 11:30 p.m.(3/5/1006 AR)
Just in case anyone else is inspired by Magpie's creative genius:
We want to keep the Bringers as FAR AWAY from the FUCKING PIT as possible.
Please do not try to put Bringer dust in the Pit.
We want to keep the Bringers as FAR AWAY from the FUCKING PIT as possible.
Please do not try to put Bringer dust in the Pit.
Written By Aureth
March 27, 2017, 12:54 p.m.(3/2/1006 AR)
I pray to the Queen of Endings to take the souls of those who fell defending Her city into Her hand. I pray to Her to guard those souls upon the Wheel, to guide them to their new weaves, howsoever she, the Queen, chooses to send them. I pray that those worthy souls of our heroes gave their lives, who fell to the Bringers, will be granted new beginnings, and that those beginnings will bring glory to the seed of human worth behind each pair of eyes.
We fight for Arx. We fight for the Compact. We fight for life and the cycle and all our souls.
I do not pray to Death to let this not be the ending of all endings.
That is what Death has prayed to us.
We fight for Arx. We fight for the Compact. We fight for life and the cycle and all our souls.
I do not pray to Death to let this not be the ending of all endings.
That is what Death has prayed to us.
Written By Aureth
March 26, 2017, 1:51 p.m.(2/28/1006 AR)
In a moment there was nothing and in the next they were there.
It was a horror. And even with all of us standing ready to fight, I felt nothing, nothing but pure terror. It was a living nightmare. They didn't have to breach the walls. They just had to stroll past my home--
This was just the beginning.
Guard her city, people of the Compact. We must. We have to. Stand for life.
It was a horror. And even with all of us standing ready to fight, I felt nothing, nothing but pure terror. It was a living nightmare. They didn't have to breach the walls. They just had to stroll past my home--
This was just the beginning.
Guard her city, people of the Compact. We must. We have to. Stand for life.
Written By Aureth
March 24, 2017, 11:19 p.m.(2/25/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Aleksei
The Faith has no idea how lucky they are to have him. That said -- I'm pretty sure the gods know.
It's going to be a whole new world, Aleksei.
But don't worry. You've got this.
It's going to be a whole new world, Aleksei.
But don't worry. You've got this.
Written By Aureth
March 18, 2017, 11:13 a.m.(2/12/1006 AR)
A note on the Queen of Endings for the uninitiate, which, I should probably remind the world in general, is probably ALL OF YOU:
She is Death, which does, indeed, make her the end of life. The moment of transition between your life and what lies beyond. The last instant before your heart fails as your eyes look into the gathering shadows and see-- what those of us who still live will never know and likely never remember.
But she's not going to keep you alive. She's not going to protect you from dying. She's not going to haunt your enemies. She is the weaver of souls, the guardian of the Wheel, the hand that will guide you to what lies beyond . . . she will protect your soul, because she loves it, as she loves all souls. But she's not interested in whatever bullshit is happening around your dying. Souls belong to her. The lamentations of your enemies do not.
I highly doubt she would not even find them interesting.
The only exception is the Bringers, really. Kill them, tan their hides, stuff them and mount them on your walls: Death will thank you for it.
She is Death, which does, indeed, make her the end of life. The moment of transition between your life and what lies beyond. The last instant before your heart fails as your eyes look into the gathering shadows and see-- what those of us who still live will never know and likely never remember.
But she's not going to keep you alive. She's not going to protect you from dying. She's not going to haunt your enemies. She is the weaver of souls, the guardian of the Wheel, the hand that will guide you to what lies beyond . . . she will protect your soul, because she loves it, as she loves all souls. But she's not interested in whatever bullshit is happening around your dying. Souls belong to her. The lamentations of your enemies do not.
I highly doubt she would not even find them interesting.
The only exception is the Bringers, really. Kill them, tan their hides, stuff them and mount them on your walls: Death will thank you for it.
Written By Aureth
March 12, 2017, 6:12 p.m.(1/28/1006 AR)
SUPERNATURAL VISIONS AND YOU: A BEGINNER'S GUIDE
People of Arvum; ladies; gentlemen; others;
It has come to my attention that some of you do not understand the vision that came upon us all on this day of 1006 After the Reckoning. Some of you believe that this is a trick, or a trap, or that there is some meaning other than the obvious behind a vision of reality being consumed by oblivion.
It's not. There isn't. You're wrong. And you should probably go soak your head in a bucket of ice water to see if you can do something about how your brain seems to not be working.
The Queen of Endings and Beginnings, Death, the Lost Goddess of Our Pantheon, has sent you a vision to warn you of what is coming. To tell you that Princess Dawn Grayson and the King's Own and Lady Darkwater who went forth to the Teind did so to stop the Silence, and that without their actions, we would all already be dead, because that is how close the Void bites at our heels.
It is coming, because Tolamar Brand is bringing it.
Here's the rundown from the lady on the throne of bones:
1. Silence, the Archfiend of Oblivion wants to get into the Shining Lands.
2. Tolamar Brand, the Herald of Oblivion, wants to help Silence get there.
3. Tolamar Brand is headed for the Thinnest Point to open the door and let Silence in.
4. Silence enters the Shining Lands. Everything is destroyed. Everything!
5. Even you!
6. AND you!
These are her words. This is her message. I have it in the written word and if you'd like to see it I'd be DELIGHTED to share it with you.
Stop the Silence. Anything else that is bothering you, anything else that you're afraid of, anything else you think might matter in this life or the next, drop it. Now. This is your priority.
And if it's not, you're wrong, and don't think I'm kidding about the ice water.
People of Arvum; ladies; gentlemen; others;
It has come to my attention that some of you do not understand the vision that came upon us all on this day of 1006 After the Reckoning. Some of you believe that this is a trick, or a trap, or that there is some meaning other than the obvious behind a vision of reality being consumed by oblivion.
It's not. There isn't. You're wrong. And you should probably go soak your head in a bucket of ice water to see if you can do something about how your brain seems to not be working.
The Queen of Endings and Beginnings, Death, the Lost Goddess of Our Pantheon, has sent you a vision to warn you of what is coming. To tell you that Princess Dawn Grayson and the King's Own and Lady Darkwater who went forth to the Teind did so to stop the Silence, and that without their actions, we would all already be dead, because that is how close the Void bites at our heels.
It is coming, because Tolamar Brand is bringing it.
Here's the rundown from the lady on the throne of bones:
1. Silence, the Archfiend of Oblivion wants to get into the Shining Lands.
2. Tolamar Brand, the Herald of Oblivion, wants to help Silence get there.
3. Tolamar Brand is headed for the Thinnest Point to open the door and let Silence in.
4. Silence enters the Shining Lands. Everything is destroyed. Everything!
5. Even you!
6. AND you!
These are her words. This is her message. I have it in the written word and if you'd like to see it I'd be DELIGHTED to share it with you.
Stop the Silence. Anything else that is bothering you, anything else that you're afraid of, anything else you think might matter in this life or the next, drop it. Now. This is your priority.
And if it's not, you're wrong, and don't think I'm kidding about the ice water.
Written By Aureth
March 9, 2017, 1:49 a.m.(1/21/1006 AR)
Faith is an act of choice. It's easy to forget that, when talking in terms of fact, belief, understanding, knowledge. Of course the gods are real; I believe that. Of course there are enemies upon us. Those are simple facts, and it didn't take the Battle of Pridehall to show us that.
But when you stand on the precipice of doubt, the choices open before you as clearly as prongs in a path.
We stand on the precipice of doubt. The Silence is coming. Tolamar Brand is coming for us to destroy everything that we are, or would be. He's coming to destroy our souls.
I'm choosing faith. I'm finding that I have to do it again, every day. Every time the fears grip my heart. Every time corpses dance in my dreams. I'm doing it.
We will defeat him. We have to. The alternative is unthinkable.
If you think this isn't your fight, you're wrong. If you think that someone else will take care of it, they won't. If you think that there's no such thing as miracles, think again.
And if you think that risking life and soul and future for this has no chance of success, you are choosing doubt over any possibility of victory.
Choose again. Choose faith. This is our shot.
Pray for it. I know I will be.
But when you stand on the precipice of doubt, the choices open before you as clearly as prongs in a path.
We stand on the precipice of doubt. The Silence is coming. Tolamar Brand is coming for us to destroy everything that we are, or would be. He's coming to destroy our souls.
I'm choosing faith. I'm finding that I have to do it again, every day. Every time the fears grip my heart. Every time corpses dance in my dreams. I'm doing it.
We will defeat him. We have to. The alternative is unthinkable.
If you think this isn't your fight, you're wrong. If you think that someone else will take care of it, they won't. If you think that there's no such thing as miracles, think again.
And if you think that risking life and soul and future for this has no chance of success, you are choosing doubt over any possibility of victory.
Choose again. Choose faith. This is our shot.
Pray for it. I know I will be.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 28, 2017, 5:54 p.m.(1/4/1006 AR)
Finally had a chance to catch up with Moira last night. A lot has happened in the past few weeks and you really don't get the sense of just how overwhelmingly weird our lives have become until you have to try to lay that all out for someone else.
Makes me think about family.
When I took over the bar, that was my clear responsibility for the Grayhope name, and I've worked since to try to remedy some of the ... oh, bad publicity ... that we might've had because of my cousin's questionable choices. I've been working to try to keep the place spic and span even under threat of severe mess, spruced up the menu a little bit with some good deals on whiskey and wine that some social contacts have helped me to make, arranged a regular menu so that people have some idea of what they're getting from the kitchen, and even found and put up a dartboard to give patrons something to throw something else at that isn't each other's heads.
But family is more than the Grayhope name. It's more than just me and Fortunato and Hana and cousin Moira.
It's good to remember that.
Makes me think about family.
When I took over the bar, that was my clear responsibility for the Grayhope name, and I've worked since to try to remedy some of the ... oh, bad publicity ... that we might've had because of my cousin's questionable choices. I've been working to try to keep the place spic and span even under threat of severe mess, spruced up the menu a little bit with some good deals on whiskey and wine that some social contacts have helped me to make, arranged a regular menu so that people have some idea of what they're getting from the kitchen, and even found and put up a dartboard to give patrons something to throw something else at that isn't each other's heads.
But family is more than the Grayhope name. It's more than just me and Fortunato and Hana and cousin Moira.
It's good to remember that.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 26, 2017, 4:56 p.m.(12/28/1005 AR)
I have to admit the world looks a little brighter tonight ... even if the jokes probably couldn't be worse.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 10, 2017, 9:27 a.m.(11/23/1005 AR)
I bet if I had to spend less time and money cleaning up after you miserable scoundrels when you ruin the place I could afford better beer in the kegs.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 6, 2017, 12:54 a.m.(11/11/1005 AR)
Thoughts on life, on change, on choices, and on where choices take us:
A year ago, my life was, oh, about the same as it was five years before. I lived at the Murder because my clientele was largely in the Lower Boroughs and because the rent was cheap and because, I think, it annoyed Mother -- I never understood why, although now I do, but my fortunes have changed enough that it's far too late to move to the house in the Uppers. I told fortunes and read the cards and read the bowl, and did occasional errands for Michal, or Moira, and why not? I foresaw no change for me. I foresaw none of this. I had no particular responsibilities. I had no particular duties. I had no particular ambitions, or goals, or nightmares.
Today.
I run a business now, and people's livelihoods depend on choices I make. People who don't necessarily have anywhere else to go. Murder ain't a charity, but ... times are tough all over. My mother, who I thought would live forever like the dragon her temper made her resemble, is dead. My daughter is one of the foremost weaponsmiths of the whole city. I love her as I have never loved anything in my life and I worry for her every day. I pay a giant hulk of a man to follow her around and keep her safe even though I have no idea what from. I care about everything I never cared about before. I have people ... family ... under my protection and I feel -- things -- about that.
And I pray more. On purpose.
And call down the nightmares. Hah.
Funny old thing, life.
A year ago, my life was, oh, about the same as it was five years before. I lived at the Murder because my clientele was largely in the Lower Boroughs and because the rent was cheap and because, I think, it annoyed Mother -- I never understood why, although now I do, but my fortunes have changed enough that it's far too late to move to the house in the Uppers. I told fortunes and read the cards and read the bowl, and did occasional errands for Michal, or Moira, and why not? I foresaw no change for me. I foresaw none of this. I had no particular responsibilities. I had no particular duties. I had no particular ambitions, or goals, or nightmares.
Today.
I run a business now, and people's livelihoods depend on choices I make. People who don't necessarily have anywhere else to go. Murder ain't a charity, but ... times are tough all over. My mother, who I thought would live forever like the dragon her temper made her resemble, is dead. My daughter is one of the foremost weaponsmiths of the whole city. I love her as I have never loved anything in my life and I worry for her every day. I pay a giant hulk of a man to follow her around and keep her safe even though I have no idea what from. I care about everything I never cared about before. I have people ... family ... under my protection and I feel -- things -- about that.
And I pray more. On purpose.
And call down the nightmares. Hah.
Funny old thing, life.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 5, 2017, 10:03 p.m.(11/11/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Lazarus
Lazarus Mercier insulted my mother publicly and only withdrew his insults under threat of a call for a Champion. She named him a coward, publicly, in these pages, and he accepted the name, because he could not do otherwise and refuse the duel.
My mother is dead now. Murdered by poison.
But I say now on her behalf and on my own that Lazarus Mercier remains a coward, in perpetuity.
My mother is dead now. Murdered by poison.
But I say now on her behalf and on my own that Lazarus Mercier remains a coward, in perpetuity.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 5, 2017, 12:15 a.m.(11/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Luca
I have purchased some time of Luca's at a bachelor auction for a really absurd and exorbitant sum of money and now I have to figure out what I'm going to do with him.
I have promised him that a barmaid's skirts will not be involved.
I have promised him that a barmaid's skirts will not be involved.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 4, 2017, 2:38 a.m.(11/5/1005 AR)
Another day, another ... hangover.
Aren't you supposed to get better at things with practice? Shouldn't I be getting better at drinking?
Future generations of Grayhopes are going to research these journals and wonder that I had nothing more to say about these times than how drunk I was last night.
I will say this:
I had never before considered the Sentinel's perspective on picking your nose.
Aren't you supposed to get better at things with practice? Shouldn't I be getting better at drinking?
Future generations of Grayhopes are going to research these journals and wonder that I had nothing more to say about these times than how drunk I was last night.
I will say this:
I had never before considered the Sentinel's perspective on picking your nose.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 2, 2017, 11:18 p.m.(11/2/1005 AR)
I didn't plan to do that.
I mean, rarely is anything I do planned, these days. I feel like I used to plan more.
But it felt raw, and real, like I had to speak. I've never held so much truth in me. I've never held so much anger. I've never felt so much fear.
It's all related.
The Silence is coming. We have to stop it. Everything else is secondary. I keep saying this to everyone who will listen, so why not write it here?
I want to go on living. Kill the Bringers. Stop Tolamar Brand. This is her command.
Life may be unforgiving. Power slips through your fingers like so much hourglass sand--
Oh gods almighty, all that rhymed, now she's got me doing it. I need a drink.
I mean, rarely is anything I do planned, these days. I feel like I used to plan more.
But it felt raw, and real, like I had to speak. I've never held so much truth in me. I've never held so much anger. I've never felt so much fear.
It's all related.
The Silence is coming. We have to stop it. Everything else is secondary. I keep saying this to everyone who will listen, so why not write it here?
I want to go on living. Kill the Bringers. Stop Tolamar Brand. This is her command.
Life may be unforgiving. Power slips through your fingers like so much hourglass sand--
Oh gods almighty, all that rhymed, now she's got me doing it. I need a drink.
Written By Aureth
Jan. 18, 2017, 1:44 p.m.(9/12/1005 AR)
I woke up this morning and it looks like we got fucked by the high lords again.
Must be Wednesday.
Must be Wednesday.
Written By Aureth
Jan. 16, 2017, 11:34 a.m.(9/5/1005 AR)
I'm just checking, but . . .
Blood magic.
One of those things the Inquisition is supposed to be against, right? They don't like the blood magic? They want to root it out? Correct?
Not, traditionally, offer their arms to the blood mage while she's going about blood magicking?
Blood magic.
One of those things the Inquisition is supposed to be against, right? They don't like the blood magic? They want to root it out? Correct?
Not, traditionally, offer their arms to the blood mage while she's going about blood magicking?
Written By Aureth
Jan. 14, 2017, 11:29 p.m.(9/1/1005 AR)
That was the single most disturbing experience of my life.
And I think I'm going to try to find a way to make it worse.
And I think I'm going to try to find a way to make it worse.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.