Skip to main content.

Written By Haakon

Nov. 14, 2021, 11:25 a.m.(7/24/1016 AR)

I've spent enough year as a wolf on the waters to recognize what's at work when more than the usual ship or two are lost coming or going to the same port in the fair sailing seasons.

It's time to hunt, again.

Written By Camilla

Nov. 14, 2021, 10:20 a.m.(7/24/1016 AR)

A very production session this week. Subject pushed past ailment admirably. Set up for significant progress next time. I am happy to have made such progress so far.

Written By Rook

Nov. 14, 2021, 8:07 a.m.(7/24/1016 AR)

Who would have thought that it would be so much work to convince artisans to take advantage of a free opportunity to get in front of the gathered nobility of Arx...

Written By Baldessare

Nov. 14, 2021, 7:59 a.m.(7/24/1016 AR)

There is something to be said for those who stand by you at your worst. They should also be the ones who get to celebrate with you at your best.

Written By Narcissa

Nov. 14, 2021, 12:31 a.m.(7/23/1016 AR)

Bones rattle and clasp in their accolade,
Digits of death in immortality decayed.
Shadows are one's own gravely barricade,
Keep clapping, I digress, the world's your cavalcade.

You appear when mirror's reply fits you best,
Audience a question, where lies the true jest?

Written By Raven

Nov. 13, 2021, 10:09 p.m.(7/23/1016 AR)

I've been ordered to avoid danger. Worse. In the unlikely event danger finds me I'm to remain behind my guards. Watching others prepare to take to battle while I loiter and trying to understand one thousand and one things that seem very much over my head makes my skin crawl like I'm wearing louse infested burlap. It's not as if assassins seek me or have done anything to draw the Traitor's eye my way, or as if I am not capable of dealing with any trouble that seeks me, certainly an over dramatic directive even if born from a good place. At least NOW it can be proven that trouble doesn't follow me around. I'll sit quietly. Nothing will happen and it'll prove I don't invite trouble without occasions to do so.

Written By Medeia

Nov. 13, 2021, 9:43 p.m.(7/23/1016 AR)

A far more pleasant happening, which deserves a separate entry into the record: I was pleased to welcome Gio diMalvici as a resident of the sanctuary this week. The long ties between our families, and my understanding of how loss can require a new beginning, made this an easy offer. I suppose it helps that my dear protege was of like mind! I learned that Cesare had also suggested the sanctuary to Gio. It is good to know that those living within the same place are liable to get along.

Written By Medeia

Nov. 13, 2021, 9:22 p.m.(7/23/1016 AR)

Some time ago, during the winter, a group of people who were assisting with the production of peachskin and windspun wool were visiting Eswynd Rock. While they were there, a Shav clan - Velniavis - from the nearby Oksehode Islands launched a daring raid in an attempt to steal sheep from my people. They were thwarted thanks to the guests and the efforts of the Eswynders. However, I was not willing to let their misdeed go unpunished. Once, the Velniavis were sworn to Eswynd. They refused to kneel when Eswynd did. Their choices were their own. And now their name is dead. I suspect this writing may be the last time any acknowledgement of their existence will be made for history's record.

From the moment someone first levelled the accusation of being a Shav sympathizer against me, it has been inaccurate. I do not believe all Shavs are deserving of the protection the Compact grants, and I will not tolerate harm to my people. For those who oppose us? The wind cares not.

Written By Mattheu

Nov. 13, 2021, 7:14 p.m.(7/23/1016 AR)

I might finally be getting the hang of the stage in this city. There's still plenty of work to be done, and it's nothing akin to setting upon a port and finding a corner to dance and play upon while waiting for the next shipment to make its way to the hull.

Though it is easier to find horse hairs in the city, when all one needs to do is find an unattended carriage. If those reading this can identify the horse I speak of, I'll happily find a way to repay for the sight you came back to.

Written By Ciaphas

Nov. 13, 2021, 6:31 p.m.(7/23/1016 AR)

Dearest Journal,

I find that lubrication in the form of intoxication assists in bringing forth memories that I thought buried - in intoxication primarily - but, I am sober enough to spell my name in Arvani, so I'm sober enough to write in a journal.

Looking back on my previous writing on my education, another comes to mind - this more specifically aimed towards the use of spears or other lengthy instruments of impalement. I know many believe that the spear or pike would be the weapon of the common levy, I've seen a man experienced with a spear gut a man who had practiced with a sword his entire life - laid low by a commoner with a spear.

Thus I translate, as poorly as it may be, another lesson from my Teachers.

(OOC: Anything in []'s can be considered very loosely translated from Eurusi, but otherwise everything else is Ciaphas's poor writing and elaboration.)
"... The [Teachers] used to say that "A Spear is the [rope/line] of [deaths/endings].", and we have a saying that repeats: "You have mentioned the [rope/line], that I had forgotten and thus [death/ending] remembers me".

A [Teacher] asked of their pupils which spear they preferred, the first answered: "The one that [does not waver] and is firm, when brandished it does not [twist/warp/deformed], nor camber when [sent/thrown]."

The second, when asked responded: "My [brother/fellow pupil] describes a good [rope/line], but I prefer one which [sings/vibrates/bellows], thin and flexible, sharp to cut [rope/line] and cause [death/endings]". ..."

It goes on a little bit, describing that between the two - it is a personal choice, for a real [Teacher] is a [container/vessel] of their.. form, and they know which weapon is.. I lack the Arvani, or the drink, to find a proper term, but the best I can give is that you are no longer swinging a weapon, but to the [Teacher], their weapon is their fist, their eyes, ears, it's swing is their voice. I assume this goes in line with any master of a chosen weapon in the Compact.

To continue:

"... The extended [rope/line] which is used, the more extended, the less it [tricks/mirages].
There are six [Teachers] in guard,
And with step and [path/flow], they move and [death/ending],
From both sides they strike in certainty,
The [path/flow] goes to side and not up;
And the [path/flow] wants to be one arm's length on the [rope/line],
Whomever goes against the [path/flow] finds themselves stepping the path to [death/endings]. ... "

-Inserted are two stick figures, drawn to show proper forms, one crowned deliberately holding their spear in two hands, the sharp tip pointed to their feet, left hand held near the middle, the right near the top. The opposite holds the spear almost like a flute, left foot forwards and hands choked near the middle of the spear, but behind the head. While the drawings are very, very rough - it's almost like sword stances. In softer pencil it vaguely demonstrates where the motions would go in motions to block and parry.-

" ... '[Patience/waiting] is my goal, my [rope/line] held close to form, to defeat and exchange thrusts.'

See the Three [Teachers], they stand they take the teachings of the [blade] to bring to the [rope/line], using the [rope/line] like the [blade]. Positioned to quickly beat aside an opponent's [weapon/fist], and to do so step [cross, diagonal] off the line right foot, cross [rope/line] with [weapon/fist], and strike it to the left."

It mentions something about rolling it all together for some combination, so that the motion is smooth and in one pass. While this is easy in theory, to be able to keep the foot movements while stepping in close to an opponent while you're wielding a weapon of length takes more fortitude than you can imagine, because you might have everything screaming at you to keep that sharp, pointy end towards your target.

Alas, Journal. I feel sobriety's creeping advance. I will make haste and retreat.

Written By Ida

Nov. 13, 2021, 4:01 p.m.(7/23/1016 AR)

I designed and managed to make a rubicund sword this past week. It's a donation, though, rather than something that will be put up for sale in the shop. There are not many things I'm able to do when tragedy strikes the Compact, being simply a smith who can still swing a decent punch now and again. Hopefully the blade will be well received and help raise some funds for the efforts toward Bastion.

Written By Hadrian

Nov. 13, 2021, 2:19 p.m.(7/22/1016 AR)

Relationship Note on Cambria

She said what, dear Scholar? That some things are just worthy of dismissal, rather than an answer? That's paraphrasing? Mhm, mhm, mhm, mhm.

Could you write that down for me, Scholar? Just jot down her exact words, notarize it, put your mark, what-have-you, please? This is a valuable tool for our next argument.

Thanks! Goodbye!

Written By Sydney

Nov. 13, 2021, 10:55 a.m.(7/22/1016 AR)

When someone is said to simmer with rage, it's always perplexed me that it's the fire we attribute to the emotion.

The contents of the pot are what ought be feared.

Anyone who's ever had a hot stew spilled on them surely knows what I'm referring to.

Written By Aelgar

Nov. 13, 2021, 7:31 a.m.(7/22/1016 AR)

It is unfortunate that I have not had time to meet with our new Archlector as I am very curious about the man. For this reason, I have made a private commitment to bump that meeting to the top of my list. Not that the Dream listens to my commitments! Beyond that, I can write only of a relatively quiet week, almost a luxury in these times, a time of peaceful catching up. My gear is clean and ready again, edges honed and animals groomed, all waiting for the next call to action.

Written By Cambria

Nov. 13, 2021, 1:10 a.m.(7/21/1016 AR)

There are times when it is pointless to argue, or to develop a reasoned response to another person's absurd assertion. These things are not worthy of an answer, rather, they are deserving of dismissal.

Written By Ryhalt

Nov. 13, 2021, 12:39 a.m.(7/21/1016 AR)

It's like having a vase for sale. Someone pushed it down and broke it. Instead of apologizing or paying for it, they tried to put it back in place after an attempt to fit it back together. They try to claim that it isn't broken, that it contains the same value as before, but they've never tried to sell a broken vase.

Written By Ciaphas

Nov. 12, 2021, 10:41 p.m.(7/21/1016 AR)

In my boredom, and with copious amounts of my most Distinguished and Splended Wife's wine - I've been thinking back to the fun of youth. The training and drill, hour after hour in the sun and sand. Looking back on it, I do miss it. The structure, the organization. Some of the views weren't too bad, either.

The less said about the teachers, the better.

But, I'm less thinking of people and more thinking of the training, and it's relation to the Compact. In the Compact I see a lot of swords. I see some with axes - and some with weapons larger still. It is to those who wield larger weapons that I pen a brief excerpt of some of my instructor's learned words when facing an opponent with a similiar weapon of size.

Please excuse the translation errors. Some terms do not translate cleanly from my native language. Also, I should probably note somewhere that if someone does read this -- I don't do any actual teaching. I'm terrible at it. Also, the instruction where I learned it involves me beating you with a barbed switch if you make a wrong stroke. I don't have a barbed switch, I don't plan on getting one, and if you got blood on my clothes I'd be absolutely outraged. So no. Just read it.

(OOC: Anything in [] can be considered 'poorly' translated from Eurusi. Everything else can be considered legible, just my bad writing.)
---
"... Upon finding yourself facing an [enemy] encased and helmed, take a [second] to look at their guard. If they are in [air guard], with their left foot forward and right arm raised high, look upon the [end/lower part] of the axe to left forward, step forwards with your right foot, and deliver a [rightmost desert swipe] to the head, provoking the [enemy] to defend with the [blade] or haft. This so done you will come to find yourself [locked/crossed/bound] together, whereby you will be [swifter than a dust storm], so that your enemy will be wanting to press forward with left foot, to beat the heft of your [blade] with the [end/lower part], which will leave your chest and face vulnerable to said [end/lower part].

To be [swifter than a dust storm], you will follow their [path/way], lift your weapon high. This will allow his weapon to go past and become [null/empty]. Respond with a chop. This is to be done every time in such a guard, as unless the opponent is by far your physical greater, any other attempt to break the [lock/binding] will break space between you without giving opportunity for striking..."
---

He did go on a bit, something about if you were opposed to your enemy in the guard, or you were left footed.. But to be honest, my arm hurts.

I may visit this topic again sometime if the inspiration strikes.

Written By Evelynn

Nov. 12, 2021, 8:24 p.m.(7/21/1016 AR)

Relationship Note on Iseulet

It breeds respite. The lack of response while you wait shows you they are not worthy.

Written By Ramona

Nov. 12, 2021, 7:59 p.m.(7/21/1016 AR)

You cannot spell discovery without cover-y. Take cover. This is an excellent reminder to always be safe while working on the trickery of a cranking mechanism of a crossbow. Such little space between just enough - and too much!

Written By Iseulet

Nov. 12, 2021, 7:28 p.m.(7/21/1016 AR)

Silence breeds regret.

Never wait to tell someone that you love them.

Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.

Leave blank if this journal is not a relationship

Mark if this is a private, black journal entry