Skip to main content.

Written By Ann

April 1, 2017, 1:19 a.m.(3/11/1006 AR)

Document the fourth:

3 gather together
2 announce their courtship (a blessing in a dark time)
1 has no whisky

... and I couldn't find whisky anywhere in the building. I ought to have stayed put and drank the wine.

Written By Tikva

April 1, 2017, 12:43 a.m.(3/11/1006 AR)

Even the sturdiest, coldest mountain yields to the melting warmth of fresh sunlight, with the first new growth of springtime. When you see the first new green leaves pierce the snow, you have to smile, don't you?

When that first bright daisy opens on a new day, it means more than simple flower petals.

Fuck the Bringers. I have a song to write.

Written By Sparte

April 1, 2017, 12:38 a.m.(3/11/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Mae

Blood and kissing are not a winning combination, particularly when it isn't the blood of either of the two involved. Still, excellent creativity on her part made the night a rousing success.

Written By Peregrine

March 31, 2017, 11:43 p.m.(3/11/1006 AR)

...as dictated to a priest of Vellichor...

History is a cold forge in Arx. The halls are cold, the statues and the writings that tell the stories. The breath spent on songs and tales gives them life. Your heroes breathed once. They moved. They acted. To keep the history alive, you must breathe too. You must move, you must act.

This is something I think Arx is learning now. It is good. Keep the history alive and you keep the wisdom. Cold forges do not make steel.

Written By Dulcinea

March 31, 2017, 11:08 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

Dear Me,

A belated letter! I've been so very neglectful, but everything has happened so fast.

I dove off a rampart and helped kill a bringer. And some shavs. Normally the shavs part would be worth the entire price of admission, but the BRINGER! (It was on fire!) My companions in action were delightful in every respect. They each deserve their own entry and shall have it.

I went to dinner with the Grimhalls. Lord Harald called me "Falling Arrow." I nearly died of joy.

I had a snit about my family not involving me in something? I think that's been documented.

Oh, and Lord Artorius very kindly continues to wear my favor on behalf of All Who Fight. Now that "All" is also ME, perhaps it helped in the whole rampart diving business? Who can say?

If only I could find more attractive armor and less people died, I'd be entirely behind this siege business.

Love and Flaming Pitch,

Me

Written By Esoka

March 31, 2017, 11:03 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Edelma

The Sword of Giant's Reach hits hard, drinks hard, and laughs hard at stupid jokes about men and their whales. We're fast friends.

Written By Deva

March 31, 2017, 10:43 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

I should be dead. Several times over, really, if I may be completely blunt. But here I am.

I pray for peace for those we have lost, and I shall do everything I can to make the most of my time still here. Even if the 'why' continues to elude me.

Written By Nix

March 31, 2017, 10:20 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

I went on another walk today. Tap-tap-tap goes my cane. I swear that sound will haunt me long after I am healed, if such a time comes.

I am exploring this city street by street, and alley by alley. If I am to dwell in a place, then I will know it. Exploring a city at war is fascinating. The people act so differently. Nervous eyes, and hands quick to touch weapons. It is invigorating.

I found myself in the Hall of the Dead, where I met a man and his barbarian princess wife. Huh. He made some comment about heroic women or somesuch, and it took all of my grace not to smirk at him. She also showed no social decorum and asked rude and pointed questions.

What a place.

Written By Nix

March 31, 2017, 8:07 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

Wandering a city under siege is a strange thing.

I am used to naval combat, surely. For almost two decades that was daily life for me. I was at my fighting peak, however...not a cripple like I am now. Also, there is something different about a battle on land. It feels...less personal, if that makes any sort of sense. So many people who can stand between you and enemy blades.

I've taken to walking in the morning, during false dawn. The cold mornings hurt my leg like you would not believe, but the pain keeps me from becoming complacent. Perhaps I can still find a way to be useful in this time.

Perhaps not.

Written By Calaudrin

March 31, 2017, 5:07 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Sparte

That crazy kid is braver than I am. He's also in better shape...

Written By Merek

March 31, 2017, 5:02 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Joscelin

She is the Guildmaster of the Crafter's Guild, and has been there for all that need help when they need it. She is quite kind, and a fun person to be around.

Written By Aureth

March 31, 2017, 4:10 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

So it's like this.

I went to the Shrine of Gloria, which I can't say I'd _never_ done before, but I have to admit it's pretty rare. The place looks like it should be a war camp, and it looks like that all the time, not just when the entire city is under siege. Battle and war are a soldier's game. I own armor to not die in, and I can shoot a crossbow without murdering my own thumb but that's basically the extent of my skill in that area.

I was complaining to Aleksei about this and he wrote back, "You think honor only comes up when you're fighting?"

Makes you think, doesn't it?

Honor. It goes hand in hand with pride, doesn't it? The point on which you stand, the point of rage: that's not me, that is beneath me, that is not what I stand for, that is not what I am.

Where's your honor? Is it the line drawn in the sand, the point you reach of acts you won't do? "Hey, murder someone and throw them in the river."

Is it the point of integrity, the place where you won't lie anymore, even to protect yourself? "Hey, Death told me the Silence is coming."

Is it the point where even though you've got the battle skills of a limp noodle, you'll walk into the dark with your eyes wide open to protect people you care about, even if it's just to give the darkness another, shinier, blonder target?

I didn't really ever think that honor was something I was particularly entitled to, but that never stopped me from having a huge damn chip on my shoulder, did it?

This is my prayer to Gloria. Let me be worthy to protect the honor of the Queen. Allow me the fortitude not to disgrace the Faith. May I be strong enough to stand for what's right. May I be bold enough to defend the world from darkness.

May I be enough, and when I'm inevitably not -- let others stand with me.

Written By Aureth

March 31, 2017, 3:47 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

Lagoma, the Lady of Change.

You know, I sit down to write out my thoughts on Lagoma and I feel like I already have. Each step we take - every choice I take on this path that I've set myself - it requires change and adaptation, in becoming a new person, in becoming a new thing, in Becoming, with a capital B, whatever that means. The gift of change is the ability to become. When I think about it--

Hana was the first true gift of Lagoma, for all that, in the end, she's probably more a gift from Jayus, for all that the debt a father owes his daughter probably has more to do with Limerance. Because the boy I was when I met her mother could never have been her dad. Because the man I was when I met her ... I don't know that he could ever have been responsible enough to reach for what I have now.

But I opened my heart, because how not? I made that choice. I accepted that change.

Hana has brilliant hands. It's not just native instinct. It's a lifetime of hard work, of dedication. Without a father to guide her, she chose to be a better, more responsible, more sturdy and real, than he ever would have been in his life. I don't think this is usually how examples work, and yet--

And yet.

But if I could become real for one person, it turned out ... it turned out I could be more. Because I saw that there was a way forward. Fortunato says that, after she showed me the Silence, I could have just dumped it off on Orazio or Aldwin and let it be somebody else's problem, and you know ... I never once thought of that? I never once thought to stop? Pretend it away? I never once thought to _not_ try?

I don't know when or how I became the man who made that choice. But I did. Because people have the power to change who they are. The power to become.

Death begins our stories with a blank weave, or with an old soul threaded into a new pattern. Skald gave us the will so that we could forge our way across that new pattern, so that our choices have meaning. But Lagoma grants us the gift to become, to grow, to change into the form of that pattern, to reshape our lives.

This is my prayer to Lagoma, in thanks for what She has already granted me, and us. Let me never shy from an opportunity to grow. Spring is coming, right around the corner. May it bring new growth for us all.

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.

Written By Michael

March 31, 2017, 1:47 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Gabriel

Some time ago I requested that my Father appoint me a Voice of our House. After some discussion about the matter, it seems that he's decided to do so. He's also loaned me Brightroar for the siege. I admit that the weight of the sword is nothing compared to the weight of responsibility and expectation in front of me. I do not want to fail.

Written By Inigo

March 31, 2017, 1:21 p.m.(3/10/1006 AR)

I'm terrible at writing entries... I would venture that tending to live for the moment has never left me with much time to contemplate the past, thus I forget that things must be written down for preservation.

Really, I think I'm just terrible at writing in my journal...

Written By Eirene

March 31, 2017, 11:04 a.m.(3/9/1006 AR)

Sieges teach you a lot about yourself and those around you.

My family has risen to the occasion and all of them have proven themselves the capable persons I would hope they were. I wish their parents were here to see them and share in my pride. So proud Auntie Eirene will have to do.

It also is a reassurance to see so many people, commoners and royalty, working together to fuck over our enemies. The Compact was created to save all our asses and it's proving just why we -need- it.

Healing supplies pour in; we had anticipated a siege (or I had) and Joscelin has been instrumental in stockpiling for just such an occasion. I never expected Arx to be breached, however, so getting help from any and all corners is good. My lads and ladies, the Mercy's, Ben's physicians... we're all working round the sundial to help anyone and everyone who gets wounded. Doesn't matter where they serve, which Ward, what Gods or what profession.

Right now it's Human vs Not Human. And while the shavs are under Bringer control, they sadly fall under 'Not Human.'

Written By Peregrine

March 31, 2017, 10:11 a.m.(3/9/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Calarian

...as dictated to a priest of Vellichor...

I will tell you of Calarian. He is a talker. My husband has many words. Many many words. All the words in the world, I think. They hide in his eyes, they dance in his mind. He is the son of griffins but if he were pure and true and Gold Feather he would be River's, he would be Rain's, far-roaming and always always talking.

But I know how to make his words stop.

Written By Peregrine

March 31, 2017, 10:03 a.m.(3/9/1006 AR)

...as dictated to a priest of Vellichor...

Yes, good. Write these words. I am come, Arx. I am Peregrine, daughter of Umairi and Owl, heir of the Gold Feathers, chosen of Bird. I have wed a griffin prince. I have brought my thousand. You lost the way but it is here again and it is good. It is as Calarian said, there is steel in this city. There is steel in these walls and these people.

For steel, I bring you fire. I bring you the skies.

Put that in your book.

Written By Lyiana

March 31, 2017, 9:14 a.m.(3/9/1006 AR)

Today I saw bravery. Yesterday I saw death. I saw men die in front of me and I stood by whilst their blood dripped on my floor. Yesterday I saw people who were desperate try to rob me of my money. Today, I saw heros.
I still have dreams of some good in the world. Indeed I do, but war is hard and men are desperate and all we can do is try to help them. Oh Gods, help them. I need to clean my floor in my shop, but I cannot go in there yet. I have my orders to stay inside, for which I will do gladly until such time as I am needed.

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