Written By Mira
April 16, 2017, 3:53 a.m.(4/13/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Audric
A scoundrel and a rogue! Very charming, dashing, handsome--wait. Stay focused. Still a rogue. Gruff. Irreverent. But he does pay well.
Written By Audric
April 16, 2017, 3:45 a.m.(4/13/1006 AR)
All these people writing about how bad they feel about killing! It confuses me, I have to say, as a man who's devoted his life to leading an army of killers to kill other people for coin. Here's the advice I shall offer, to those with heavy hearts about it: it gets easier. Eventually, you start to get bored with it, really! Or you learn exactly how to drink to stop it bothering you. Me? I drink because it makes everyone else more entertaining and, really, most people are dreadfully boring without it.
Written By Aiden
April 16, 2017, 2:43 a.m.(4/13/1006 AR)
I do not condone unjustly killings. I hired none for this. I had hired none.
I was with my Grayson Guard and others came to do as they ought. I owe my life to them. However I will not pay for the deed of a man's death... His death is on my hands.
I have killed a man.
I wish he had gotten away... for my heart is heavy. That he almost killed me matters not.
I killed him.
I was with my Grayson Guard and others came to do as they ought. I owe my life to them. However I will not pay for the deed of a man's death... His death is on my hands.
I have killed a man.
I wish he had gotten away... for my heart is heavy. That he almost killed me matters not.
I killed him.
Written By Thena
April 15, 2017, 11:27 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Had my first briefing with the rest of the Iron Guard today. Some of them were awfully free with Commander Silas, but he didn't seem to mind and he seems to keep very close track of what his underlings are up to. I did nearly lose my temper (not at the Commander of course) but managed to keep my mouth shut until afterwards, where I could speak more or less freely.
Petrae would probably say I am getting pulled back into my previous life too much. I wish I could speak to her, but after experiencing more of the siege in recent days I feel sure she must be dead by now.
Petrae would probably say I am getting pulled back into my previous life too much. I wish I could speak to her, but after experiencing more of the siege in recent days I feel sure she must be dead by now.
Written By Harper
April 15, 2017, 10:33 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Silas
Th' Lord Commander of the Iron Guard. Th' big cheese ( that makes me hungry. Scholar, we allowed to bring food here. Sorry, sorry - ) and the boss man. He's got a lot on his plate, but he makes sure that we meet and talk regular. It keeps th' morale up, givin' us a chance to shoot the shit around while talking business. Weird thing is, yeah, he put up with it a lot more than he usually does. Makes me wonder if somethin's UP.
Written By Ariel
April 15, 2017, 10:17 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Amazing with animals.
Interestingly shy.
Daringly handsome.
Enchancting with birds.
Naive but charming
Interestingly shy.
Daringly handsome.
Enchancting with birds.
Naive but charming
Written By Maude
April 15, 2017, 9:50 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
At times, one's vows to serve those above and protect those below seem to put one at odds with notions of honor in war. To be honorable and lose and, in that loss, to doom those who count on you to be their shield and their sword when they have none? Is my honor worth their deaths? Rarely. My honor, and Gloria's disapproval, perhaps, is a price I've often paid. And yet, at the time, it seemed to me other gods called upon me to do so. I was likely wrong, but one does not always have the luxury of prayer and theological debate.
And so, kind and goodly people sleep safe in their beds at night for some of us are willing to pay the price and make the choices they would not, etc, etc, etc.
Yet, one should not grow too enamoured of one's own image as someone who does what must be done. The hard choice then becomes too easy, and wasteful cruelty wielded because it is expedient, not because it is necessary.
These are an old woman's thoughts, nothing more. I have too much blood on my own hands to judge another's without knowing why they did what they did.
On the subject of flaying, however, I'm unconvinced that it is anything but a cultural affectation. Like folk dancing. It hardly seems a custom worth preserving.
Written By Rowan
April 15, 2017, 8:53 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Mother Crab was known by all the creatures on the beach from the gulls to the sand mites to be given to opinions on everything. None were subject so heavily to hearing these opinions as her own child.
The Young Crab, out playing while the tide was low, scurried from side to side.
Mother Crab was aghast.
"Why do you walk sideways?!" she exclaimed. "A proper gentleman should always walk straight forward, and it is so much more becoming with your toes turned out."
Young Crab asked of his mother, ever the obedient child, "Will you show me how to walk, dear Mother? I want to learn."
And so Mother Crab set about turning her feet outward and made to take a step, determined to set the example. However, Mother Crab found she could only walk as sideways as her child had. Flustered, she continued to try, until she tripped and fell onto her nose to the laughter of the gulls watching from overhead.
The Young Crab, out playing while the tide was low, scurried from side to side.
Mother Crab was aghast.
"Why do you walk sideways?!" she exclaimed. "A proper gentleman should always walk straight forward, and it is so much more becoming with your toes turned out."
Young Crab asked of his mother, ever the obedient child, "Will you show me how to walk, dear Mother? I want to learn."
And so Mother Crab set about turning her feet outward and made to take a step, determined to set the example. However, Mother Crab found she could only walk as sideways as her child had. Flustered, she continued to try, until she tripped and fell onto her nose to the laughter of the gulls watching from overhead.
Written By Kima
April 15, 2017, 5:37 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Standing upon the Wall, as the Seawatch Gate has come to be known, I looked out upon the city as I could see it. Traders Home, of the Upper Boroughs, its roofs and buildings a far cry different from the ramshackle sprawl that is the Lower. The formidable iron gate that separates the two remains open, as, to my knowledge, it always has. Traffic, however, is not what it was once. One could say the same of traffic anywhere throughout the capital. Citizens travel with air of a people harried, and even the port, which remains open, has a carnival air of madness to it. There is a heavier presence of Iron Guardsmen at the gate between the Boroughs, but such is not surprising given recent events - riots over food and Bringers of Silence or their agents attempting to make use of the Gray River or other, forgotten means to gain access to the city.
Tunnels. The capital is, apparently, riddled with them. Some few are known, many and more are undoubtedly lost to us. If not physically through decay, then because knowledge of their existence was lost. Most recently there was a group of Crownsworn that journeyed within some - at the time of this writing, I know not where - to find the enemy. One was taken captive and turned over to the Hoods, but another purportedly dropped a map and instructions to take these tunnels below us and travel to the heart of the Archives of Vellichor.
As I look, the roar of industry envelopes me. It is almost a physical thing, a presence at my back. I walk the Wall daily, and so I have grown accustomed to it. Strange, the things during wartime that so quickly become mundane, that would have been unspeakable during times of peace.
Large swathes of the Gray Forest have been cut down to the north and east. The lumber of those once hoary old trees used to make ladders and other siege equipment. There are dozens of siege towers, now. The land is black and brown and grey. Shavs, in their tens of thousands, blanket the earth. There are no calls or shouts, there are no groans of the wounded. There is only the sound of their working, working, working. There are so many that, when seen from afar, they do not appear real. It is a force to boggle the mind.
The thirteen Knights of Solace still remain macabre banners. Their remains are little more than crow-picked carrion. Bones wrapped in sun-hardened ligaments carry the memory of the shape of men.
This is what you will see when you look beyond the Wall, to its north and east you will see it, sprawling on and on, like so much ink spilled and staining parchment. It is what I have seen this day, and so it is what I have written.
Tunnels. The capital is, apparently, riddled with them. Some few are known, many and more are undoubtedly lost to us. If not physically through decay, then because knowledge of their existence was lost. Most recently there was a group of Crownsworn that journeyed within some - at the time of this writing, I know not where - to find the enemy. One was taken captive and turned over to the Hoods, but another purportedly dropped a map and instructions to take these tunnels below us and travel to the heart of the Archives of Vellichor.
As I look, the roar of industry envelopes me. It is almost a physical thing, a presence at my back. I walk the Wall daily, and so I have grown accustomed to it. Strange, the things during wartime that so quickly become mundane, that would have been unspeakable during times of peace.
Large swathes of the Gray Forest have been cut down to the north and east. The lumber of those once hoary old trees used to make ladders and other siege equipment. There are dozens of siege towers, now. The land is black and brown and grey. Shavs, in their tens of thousands, blanket the earth. There are no calls or shouts, there are no groans of the wounded. There is only the sound of their working, working, working. There are so many that, when seen from afar, they do not appear real. It is a force to boggle the mind.
The thirteen Knights of Solace still remain macabre banners. Their remains are little more than crow-picked carrion. Bones wrapped in sun-hardened ligaments carry the memory of the shape of men.
This is what you will see when you look beyond the Wall, to its north and east you will see it, sprawling on and on, like so much ink spilled and staining parchment. It is what I have seen this day, and so it is what I have written.
Written By Abbas
April 15, 2017, 5:23 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
I am no politician. I have no ability for it.
I was tasked to make war. There is no glory in this thing. There is no pride in watching a man... or woman -- stuff themselves back inside themselves just to taste of hope once more before they die. I am proud of my men who went to war with me. They obeyed hard orders. They did the /hard/ thing because of duty they return home having sacrificed.
Some speak of things as if these choices were easy and done so out of a desire to see such suffering. Over the last years I have seen my fellow brothers driven mad and waste away to nothing. We have seen entire peoples turned and driven to the most horrific things imaginable; including cannibalism of those they once loved. Imagine a life where you must devour your own blood, your lover, your friend, your parent or to see them suffer as mindless horrors.
We have seen the true evil and malice of what seeks to consume us. I will not see my child born to a hopeless life. I will not see this evil turning upon the Mourning Isles in the homes of those I love and hold dear. I will stand to my last breath and make the hardest of choices to make sure that the hopes and dreams of our people continue. I shall fight the war of the Salt that keeps the dark tides away from the shores of Arvum.
I will fight this horror in the deepest reaches so that those we love and cherish shall have a chance at knowing the heat of the sun, the warm breeze, the spray of the Salt, and the sweetness of laughter or love. For the peaks of joy and the valleys of sadness to live on I will stand strong. And when the evil is gone I shall fade.
We have won a hard start to the war. My men are tired and they have sacrificed greatly. They have been burdened with a duty that is so very troubling. We sacrifice like those brave twelve of ourselves but we must go on living and fighting. Thrax is stronger. Arvum is stronger. We have isolated the evil to the deep and lessened the odds of the horrors visiting those that mean everything to us. The war is a little less hopeless.
There is not a day I do not pray that war is not needed. But when it is needed… against this evil – against this malice where every life is a weapon to smother all hope and dreams; we must do whatever it takes to see it wither and die.
We do what we must because others cannot. There is no choice in this war – if you side with the evil you must know not mercy. Many mothers of Thrax will sleep seeing their sons or daughters home from certain death and doom. Another winter may pass where hopes and dreams may continue. There is no price we should not pay of ourselves to make sure those who come after us. We who stand now have a duty to go against the tide and storm courageously into the unknown and do whatever we must so that this malice is driven root-by-root from our doorsteps.
You may look to the Salt horizon another day, hold your loved ones close, and pray for a better tomorrow upon the tides. I do not mind your stares or curses. I will continue to fight for the life and fate of the endless depths shall be in my hands. I sadden that people seek to assign my people hate when they give of themselves the most to make sure we live another day.
It is not easy. I pray every day for a better tomorrow for those we seek to protect. I pray for peace with all of my being. The plate before me though is not peace... it is then end of everything. And I will swallow it all so that another may not have to suffer another bite.
It is not easy to sacrifice for your people.
My people.
And your people.
Prince Abbas
I was tasked to make war. There is no glory in this thing. There is no pride in watching a man... or woman -- stuff themselves back inside themselves just to taste of hope once more before they die. I am proud of my men who went to war with me. They obeyed hard orders. They did the /hard/ thing because of duty they return home having sacrificed.
Some speak of things as if these choices were easy and done so out of a desire to see such suffering. Over the last years I have seen my fellow brothers driven mad and waste away to nothing. We have seen entire peoples turned and driven to the most horrific things imaginable; including cannibalism of those they once loved. Imagine a life where you must devour your own blood, your lover, your friend, your parent or to see them suffer as mindless horrors.
We have seen the true evil and malice of what seeks to consume us. I will not see my child born to a hopeless life. I will not see this evil turning upon the Mourning Isles in the homes of those I love and hold dear. I will stand to my last breath and make the hardest of choices to make sure that the hopes and dreams of our people continue. I shall fight the war of the Salt that keeps the dark tides away from the shores of Arvum.
I will fight this horror in the deepest reaches so that those we love and cherish shall have a chance at knowing the heat of the sun, the warm breeze, the spray of the Salt, and the sweetness of laughter or love. For the peaks of joy and the valleys of sadness to live on I will stand strong. And when the evil is gone I shall fade.
We have won a hard start to the war. My men are tired and they have sacrificed greatly. They have been burdened with a duty that is so very troubling. We sacrifice like those brave twelve of ourselves but we must go on living and fighting. Thrax is stronger. Arvum is stronger. We have isolated the evil to the deep and lessened the odds of the horrors visiting those that mean everything to us. The war is a little less hopeless.
There is not a day I do not pray that war is not needed. But when it is needed… against this evil – against this malice where every life is a weapon to smother all hope and dreams; we must do whatever it takes to see it wither and die.
We do what we must because others cannot. There is no choice in this war – if you side with the evil you must know not mercy. Many mothers of Thrax will sleep seeing their sons or daughters home from certain death and doom. Another winter may pass where hopes and dreams may continue. There is no price we should not pay of ourselves to make sure those who come after us. We who stand now have a duty to go against the tide and storm courageously into the unknown and do whatever we must so that this malice is driven root-by-root from our doorsteps.
You may look to the Salt horizon another day, hold your loved ones close, and pray for a better tomorrow upon the tides. I do not mind your stares or curses. I will continue to fight for the life and fate of the endless depths shall be in my hands. I sadden that people seek to assign my people hate when they give of themselves the most to make sure we live another day.
It is not easy. I pray every day for a better tomorrow for those we seek to protect. I pray for peace with all of my being. The plate before me though is not peace... it is then end of everything. And I will swallow it all so that another may not have to suffer another bite.
It is not easy to sacrifice for your people.
My people.
And your people.
Prince Abbas
Written By Niamh
April 15, 2017, 3:22 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Armel
Sir Armel has been most helpful in my pursuit of the Order of the Golden Dragon. His talks have been supportive and instructive both, and give me hope that this can be done without stepping on the toes of the Faith. That he has recently made himself something of a hero - even if he doesn't quite believe in true heroes himself - during the siege will no doubt help.
Now if he could just learn to spar. Maybe he's just too old to keep up.
Now if he could just learn to spar. Maybe he's just too old to keep up.
Written By Ariel
April 15, 2017, 3:10 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Every day seems brighter
Rushing wonderful thoughts
Invigorating and sincere
Caring and compassionate
Rushing wonderful thoughts
Invigorating and sincere
Caring and compassionate
Written By Ariel
April 15, 2017, 3:05 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
He has finally come back from the seas
I missed him, I claims to have missed me
I longed for his touch
Ever so very much
I hungered for his kiss
Something I truly miss
My heart now racing ever so fast
And I know it shall forever last
I missed him, I claims to have missed me
I longed for his touch
Ever so very much
I hungered for his kiss
Something I truly miss
My heart now racing ever so fast
And I know it shall forever last
Written By Calaudrin
April 15, 2017, 1:30 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
I had the opportunity to meet with Lord Harald Grimhall, to speak over preparations to defend the city in the event that Brand's forces attempt to storm the harbor. While I'm not sure I have same thirst for battle as him and his men, he's quite shrewd and I look forward to working with him. I took Thena Greyhope along for educational purposes. She has a good practical, no bullshit way about her sometimes. Even if she sucks as an archer right now.
Written By Calaudrin
April 15, 2017, 1:17 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
I don't read many journals, seems nosy. But I scan through some from the guard now and then. The other day, Sparte wrote something that really spoke to me. It was talk of the bloodlust and where it goes once all of this is over some day and how violence is becoming easier for some of those around us.
Last night I witnessed Prince Aiden held hostage by a man. A desperate man, a foolish man. A man without too many smarts. A stubborn man. Now he's a dead man. A fellow bashed his head in. Was it really necessary? I think not. What does his very public death mean for the city? With so many Iron Guard present at the time? Couldn't that strength have been used to tackle him, restrain him? Send him behind bars?
On the one hand, robbing and threatening to kill a young man and stabbing him is very much a crime. On the other? I hate to see this city devolve into a place where we adminsiter justice in the streets, so harshly and with such violence.
The hand that took his life wasn't one of the guard, but we were nearby. It worries me that the negative reaction could spill over to us as well.
Last night I witnessed Prince Aiden held hostage by a man. A desperate man, a foolish man. A man without too many smarts. A stubborn man. Now he's a dead man. A fellow bashed his head in. Was it really necessary? I think not. What does his very public death mean for the city? With so many Iron Guard present at the time? Couldn't that strength have been used to tackle him, restrain him? Send him behind bars?
On the one hand, robbing and threatening to kill a young man and stabbing him is very much a crime. On the other? I hate to see this city devolve into a place where we adminsiter justice in the streets, so harshly and with such violence.
The hand that took his life wasn't one of the guard, but we were nearby. It worries me that the negative reaction could spill over to us as well.
Written By Edward
April 15, 2017, 1:08 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Purloining pirates pilfered the Prince's private privy to be privy to the Prince's privates. Poor purloining pirates perceived people would purchase the purloined privates but perchance the Prince's privates were poorly penned poems.
Written By Magpie
April 15, 2017, 12:49 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Dear Journal, do let me tell you how I earned my latest wound.
It started with some rumors. I heard that there was trouble at one of the old sewage tunnels and boldly went to investigate. The last thing we want are any more troublesome sorts getting past the guards at the gates, after all. I was trying to get the door to the tunnel open when some other folks came by. Naturally, they were curious about my brave expedition for safety, so I told them they could help me.
My good friend Acacia Culler was able to trick the door open, and once we were inside I suggested that guardsman Sparte keep his lantern high, since we all know that lantern light flickers when Bringers are about. The first thing I found was the body of Rocky. He's an old crony of mine that I've done some trading with in the past. He was maimed almost beyond recognition and if it weren't for some fabulous mint-scented salve we were using, I think several of the group might have lost their lunch from the smell. While they distanced themselves to recover, I took care to check over Rocky's remains for any tokens or notes that I might deliver back to those closest to him. I said some private prayers and left him to his rest. I'm sure the Queen of Endings has already found a new place for him.
I rejoined the group and gave them some encouraging words to continue, for surely Rocky's death suggested greater dangers lurking in the tunnels! Though they were reluctant, I feel I inspired them to stay on task. We encountered some traps. There was a tripwire I pointed out and suggested Asher disarm, and a far more cunning knife trap that I noticed. Before any of the group were harmed by it, I triggered it to set it off, negating it's danger!
As we reached a cross-section in the tunnels, a horde of thugs assaulted us. We tried to negotiate their surrender but they would not relent. We had no choice but to bravely cut them down. I urged Sparte to at least take one captive so that he might be questioned later. I regretfully took a nasty slash wound to my chest, but I had to keep the cretin busy lest he hurt any of the others. Thena helped me end his life.
I'm a humble man, but I feel if I don't document these situations in my journal, no one else will know of what is transpiring in our noble city. The true heroes are Thena and Sparte, Acacia and Asher. My role was minor.
It started with some rumors. I heard that there was trouble at one of the old sewage tunnels and boldly went to investigate. The last thing we want are any more troublesome sorts getting past the guards at the gates, after all. I was trying to get the door to the tunnel open when some other folks came by. Naturally, they were curious about my brave expedition for safety, so I told them they could help me.
My good friend Acacia Culler was able to trick the door open, and once we were inside I suggested that guardsman Sparte keep his lantern high, since we all know that lantern light flickers when Bringers are about. The first thing I found was the body of Rocky. He's an old crony of mine that I've done some trading with in the past. He was maimed almost beyond recognition and if it weren't for some fabulous mint-scented salve we were using, I think several of the group might have lost their lunch from the smell. While they distanced themselves to recover, I took care to check over Rocky's remains for any tokens or notes that I might deliver back to those closest to him. I said some private prayers and left him to his rest. I'm sure the Queen of Endings has already found a new place for him.
I rejoined the group and gave them some encouraging words to continue, for surely Rocky's death suggested greater dangers lurking in the tunnels! Though they were reluctant, I feel I inspired them to stay on task. We encountered some traps. There was a tripwire I pointed out and suggested Asher disarm, and a far more cunning knife trap that I noticed. Before any of the group were harmed by it, I triggered it to set it off, negating it's danger!
As we reached a cross-section in the tunnels, a horde of thugs assaulted us. We tried to negotiate their surrender but they would not relent. We had no choice but to bravely cut them down. I urged Sparte to at least take one captive so that he might be questioned later. I regretfully took a nasty slash wound to my chest, but I had to keep the cretin busy lest he hurt any of the others. Thena helped me end his life.
I'm a humble man, but I feel if I don't document these situations in my journal, no one else will know of what is transpiring in our noble city. The true heroes are Thena and Sparte, Acacia and Asher. My role was minor.
Written By Aureth
April 15, 2017, 12:39 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Each life matters.
Each soul matters.
Every time a new life begins, a new chapter, a new story, a new warp and weft in the weave -- whether it is a brand new soul or a new layer of memory and meaning added to an old soul -- it begins something new, something different, something in potential. It can grow, and change, and develop. It is endowed with will, and can use that will to become.
Every soul. Each human being. All life.
The fact that each ending opens an opportunity for a new beginning does not render anything meaningless. It grants more value to a life, not less. The cyclic nature of life is not a rhetorical tool to make earthly concerns not matter. Nihilism is, frankly, heretical.
The Wheel is and we must, we _must_ defend it.
The threat against the Wheel must not, however, become an excuse to devalue it.
Each soul matters.
Every time a new life begins, a new chapter, a new story, a new warp and weft in the weave -- whether it is a brand new soul or a new layer of memory and meaning added to an old soul -- it begins something new, something different, something in potential. It can grow, and change, and develop. It is endowed with will, and can use that will to become.
Every soul. Each human being. All life.
The fact that each ending opens an opportunity for a new beginning does not render anything meaningless. It grants more value to a life, not less. The cyclic nature of life is not a rhetorical tool to make earthly concerns not matter. Nihilism is, frankly, heretical.
The Wheel is and we must, we _must_ defend it.
The threat against the Wheel must not, however, become an excuse to devalue it.
Written By Cicero
April 15, 2017, 9:36 a.m.(4/11/1006 AR)
The world keeps changing
Rearranging mind and thoughts
We will work it out
Rearranging mind and thoughts
We will work it out
Written By Reese
April 15, 2017, 9:33 a.m.(4/11/1006 AR)
The gods are helping us defeat the silence.
We must remain a people worthy of the gods’ aid.
We must remain a people worthy of their love.
Plague was given to babies, are we such a people?
Princess Reese
We must remain a people worthy of the gods’ aid.
We must remain a people worthy of their love.
Plague was given to babies, are we such a people?
Princess Reese
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.