Written By Kima
Feb. 9, 2017, 11:35 p.m.(11/23/1005 AR)
Courage is abhorred more than admired, because cowardice is far more prevalent. Physical and moral courage require commitment to an objective or principle. Cowards abandon their objectives or principles at the first sign of pressure, resistance, or opprobrium and hate the steadfast, even if they’re ostensibly allied in the same cause.
Written By Jael
Feb. 9, 2017, 11:18 p.m.(4/6/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Michael
A chance meeting, an interrupted prayer...and yet it's hard to hold any grudge against him. I have a feeling if I let him see me laugh once, he'll make it his goal to steal a smile whenever he can. I suspect that would not be an entirely bad thing.
Written By Jael
Feb. 9, 2017, 11:14 p.m.(4/6/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Cristoph
My brother is as persistent as ever, a never-ending font of ideas and every step needed to transform them into reality. I used to envy him and his abilities, and yet now I have nothing but admiration for his drive and success. I only hope I can live up to what he'll need of me.
Written By Cassius
Feb. 9, 2017, 10:19 p.m.(11/23/1005 AR)
Today it is to Lagoma I pray. May she help the souls of the dead find their rightful place in Elysia, and may she give her succor to all those that remain in this world, feeling those loses so poignantly.
I write this prayer today, instead of merely casting it to the heavens, as I celebrate the lives of seven men and women who served the Knights of Solace valiantly, and who died good deaths under my command, against the forces of evil. There were others that died as well, men and women of Grayson, of Ashford, of Darkwater, and I celebrate the life of these men and women, just as I celebrate the lives of any who stand in defense of Arvum against the darkness.
Gods light our path.
Duke Cassius Pravus, KoS
I write this prayer today, instead of merely casting it to the heavens, as I celebrate the lives of seven men and women who served the Knights of Solace valiantly, and who died good deaths under my command, against the forces of evil. There were others that died as well, men and women of Grayson, of Ashford, of Darkwater, and I celebrate the life of these men and women, just as I celebrate the lives of any who stand in defense of Arvum against the darkness.
Gods light our path.
Duke Cassius Pravus, KoS
Written By Simone
Feb. 9, 2017, 8:51 p.m.(11/22/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Marius
He is my North, my South, my East and West,
My morning star and my evening rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song...
My morning star and my evening rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song...
Written By Simone
Feb. 9, 2017, 7:24 p.m.(11/22/1005 AR)
Dear gentle readers:
Forgive me this self-indulgent analogy. A song is a participatory, unrepeatable process. And so is love.
Love and songs hide in the cracks of the world --not only between, but between the betweens, in the realm of quality, not quantity--in the unmanifested hope and the realized promise.
If no one were looking for love, our world would be in sad shape, some might say. But our world already is in sad shape precisely because so many people are on this quest which seems so laudable and reasonable until you examine the results of it.
The problem with looking for love is that it is the me that wants it. The me wants love in the form of pleasure, money, status, fame, and any number of other forms. And if the me wants these things badly enough, the me will get them. So selfish, so narrow-minded, so small.
Unfortunately, all the me gets is the forms and not the love. The me grabs for the beautiful flame and gets only hot ashes. I need to seek meaning in other avenues. Home, hearth, charity, giving - I will find the meaning, I hope.
Soon.
Forgive me this self-indulgent analogy. A song is a participatory, unrepeatable process. And so is love.
Love and songs hide in the cracks of the world --not only between, but between the betweens, in the realm of quality, not quantity--in the unmanifested hope and the realized promise.
If no one were looking for love, our world would be in sad shape, some might say. But our world already is in sad shape precisely because so many people are on this quest which seems so laudable and reasonable until you examine the results of it.
The problem with looking for love is that it is the me that wants it. The me wants love in the form of pleasure, money, status, fame, and any number of other forms. And if the me wants these things badly enough, the me will get them. So selfish, so narrow-minded, so small.
Unfortunately, all the me gets is the forms and not the love. The me grabs for the beautiful flame and gets only hot ashes. I need to seek meaning in other avenues. Home, hearth, charity, giving - I will find the meaning, I hope.
Soon.
Written By Bethany
Feb. 9, 2017, 6:15 p.m.(11/22/1005 AR)
I feel as if I am offering up the very substance of myself to pursue this path, and yet like many things there is no fixed timetable or clear set of instructions of the stages to go through in reach of the conclusion. This field has roused my interest - more than I initally thought - and which I know that I may pursue it farther. Into comparative fields - either related, or less so. I enjoy this.
My notes have been meticulous. My moods since mercurial. To be expected, I think, as my patience frays. The research fruitless. The messengers return empty-handed because I do not send them out. All of my questions are not the right questions. I wish my research would step beyond the hypothetical to reveal answers. My plans are tentative, my results slow. I could focus on a dissertation on the subject.
If. If. If there was an advsior to ask, a mentor that would be beneficial --
( Enough. I need more sleep, more sustenance, more air and sun and wind and cold to remind me that I am alive. )
My notes have been meticulous. My moods since mercurial. To be expected, I think, as my patience frays. The research fruitless. The messengers return empty-handed because I do not send them out. All of my questions are not the right questions. I wish my research would step beyond the hypothetical to reveal answers. My plans are tentative, my results slow. I could focus on a dissertation on the subject.
If. If. If there was an advsior to ask, a mentor that would be beneficial --
( Enough. I need more sleep, more sustenance, more air and sun and wind and cold to remind me that I am alive. )
Written By Anabelle
Feb. 9, 2017, 4:35 p.m.(11/22/1005 AR)
My preponderance of my own sanity, for the time being, seems to be unfounded. I have not lost my mind yet, though if I have I'm already too far gone for any of it to matter. If anyone is reading this, and you believe me to be insane, I implore you to understand that my insanity might very well be the sanity of this world now.
Either I have so far lost my mind that this will be no more than chicken scratching on a sidewalk to be erased with the next passing kick of dust or roll of a wagon; or I have not and the only thing left to fear is the silence and unknowing. To any who were to read this, if this is to ever be read, if this is some how taken down off the shelf for some reason unknowing -- I am not insane, and neither are you unless you deny the existence of what is to come.
Either I have so far lost my mind that this will be no more than chicken scratching on a sidewalk to be erased with the next passing kick of dust or roll of a wagon; or I have not and the only thing left to fear is the silence and unknowing. To any who were to read this, if this is to ever be read, if this is some how taken down off the shelf for some reason unknowing -- I am not insane, and neither are you unless you deny the existence of what is to come.
Written By Perrach
Feb. 9, 2017, 3:19 p.m.(11/22/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Leta
She's a regular face seen about the city. That warm and pleasant sort that all these mainlanders seem to be infected with. One thing I know of is she doesn't have the stomach to face some real horrors beyond the city wall. Just keep guarding those city gates Missy. Stay where it's safe.
Written By Marius
Feb. 9, 2017, 2:35 p.m.(11/22/1005 AR)
So they've chosen a new Dominus. Good. The matter was taking far too long to settle, in my mind. Of course, it might be the Abandoned in me that says, "Why not just put an arrow through that broken one and be done with it," but there are processes and procedures, and let it never be said I would ask the Faith to act hastily. If the Dominus speaks for the gods, a good one should be chosen with care.
I look forward to meeting the new Dominus - Aldwin, he's named - and I hope he proves himself worthy of the title. He won't build many bridges to those of us who hold to shamanism if he behaves like the previous one.
I am, again, impressed by my liege's actions. Prince Edain was resolute and steadfast in his convictions. He acquitted himself perfectly in this time of trial, and I - and my whole family - am proud of the way he handled the matter.
I look forward to meeting the new Dominus - Aldwin, he's named - and I hope he proves himself worthy of the title. He won't build many bridges to those of us who hold to shamanism if he behaves like the previous one.
I am, again, impressed by my liege's actions. Prince Edain was resolute and steadfast in his convictions. He acquitted himself perfectly in this time of trial, and I - and my whole family - am proud of the way he handled the matter.
Written By Marius
Feb. 9, 2017, 2:30 p.m.(11/22/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Simone
We've been married five years, and I find myself drawn to her more closely with each passing day. She is inestimable, without peer in every way one can imagine. She is a true equal, and her strengths balance my weaknesses well. She is a voice of reason and calm, no matter how my blood might boil. I could not have asked for a better wife than Simone, and am grateful to the gods - new and old - that she is mine.
Written By Iona
Feb. 9, 2017, 8:08 a.m.(11/21/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Aldwin
A new Dominus has been chosen. I missed his first public appearance, nor do I know the man.
However, I did have honor of meeting the man when I visited the cathedral early one morning. Obviously, I was not expecting to meet, nevermind share a discussion with the man who has caught the eyes of the Compact right now. That was awkward.
We shared the same sunrise, and spoke of yesterday and tomorrow. It was not only pleasant, but surprisingly insightful.
If this is where the Faith is headed as a whole, then perhaps I can once more see beauty in the Faith itself.
A lovely man indeed.
However, I did have honor of meeting the man when I visited the cathedral early one morning. Obviously, I was not expecting to meet, nevermind share a discussion with the man who has caught the eyes of the Compact right now. That was awkward.
We shared the same sunrise, and spoke of yesterday and tomorrow. It was not only pleasant, but surprisingly insightful.
If this is where the Faith is headed as a whole, then perhaps I can once more see beauty in the Faith itself.
A lovely man indeed.
Written By Max
Feb. 9, 2017, 7:25 a.m.(11/21/1005 AR)
We battled in the north woods today. A group of shavs headed by a Bringer and... I'm not sure what. The battle was conclusive, though the Knights of Solace took heavy losses. The Bringer is dead. The undetermined woman is dead.
Darkwater lost men today, but that is the cost of battle. We know the five men who died today died to protect the city, to protect the compact, and in doing so, protect their homes in Darkwater.
Orsin Athol, an Orphan of Tidemarsh.
Kenick Dockside, of Darkwater Watch.
Maris Jormond of Tyde Hall.
Danny the Silent, no known surname, no known home.
Macklan S'Miri, of Darkwater Watch.
These men died today to defend the Greysons. To defend mainlanders. They join a half company of their allies who fell in the battle against the Iron Traitors. I do not like throwing away lives. But a life spent in defense of others, is not wasted.
I look forward to when the Greysons offer ships to defend Darkwater Watch from the threats that come to it.
Darkwater lost men today, but that is the cost of battle. We know the five men who died today died to protect the city, to protect the compact, and in doing so, protect their homes in Darkwater.
Orsin Athol, an Orphan of Tidemarsh.
Kenick Dockside, of Darkwater Watch.
Maris Jormond of Tyde Hall.
Danny the Silent, no known surname, no known home.
Macklan S'Miri, of Darkwater Watch.
These men died today to defend the Greysons. To defend mainlanders. They join a half company of their allies who fell in the battle against the Iron Traitors. I do not like throwing away lives. But a life spent in defense of others, is not wasted.
I look forward to when the Greysons offer ships to defend Darkwater Watch from the threats that come to it.
Written By Silas
Feb. 9, 2017, 3:35 a.m.(11/20/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Torian
Sometimes his intentions are as clear as day.
Sometimes I don't understand him at all.
Sometimes I don't understand him at all.
Written By Cara
Feb. 9, 2017, 3:23 a.m.(11/20/1005 AR)
I am at last free to write in my journal again -- though I feel, perhaps, that the brothers and sisters of the Archive would not have turned me away, I didn't quite feel right in taking part in the sacred task of Vellichor whilst cut off from the Faith.
I suppose I'm just a sentimentalist.
Though it may not have been strictly necessary to do so in such a public way, it was my thinking that to mend the breach between us and the Faith both required and deserved something of a larger display. I wanted it to be seen and to be understood, and so it was, and by the grace of the Dominus we are made reconciled. In such dangerous days as this, it is more important than ever that the Faith and the High Lords -- and the very Crown -- work together and rely on one another.
We cannot get through this alone. The enemies we face are simply too powerful for any one group or individual, no matter how heroic, to prevail.
Now, that being said, it seems that there is a wedding in my near future. I've been blessed with dear friends and family to help me overcome my reticence -- the heavens know my last wedding brings nothing but tainted memories to mind -- and I am pleased that there might be a small touch of something happy to celebrate in the sadness, though there is so much of it. So many dear ones are gone, missing or lost to us, and we are so diminished for their absence. I can only believe, though, that we must seize our happiness, no matter how brief, for recent events prove nothing if they do not prove how fleeting and precious such moments are.
May the gods watch over us, and send us their grace, for surely it is gravely needed now.
I suppose I'm just a sentimentalist.
Though it may not have been strictly necessary to do so in such a public way, it was my thinking that to mend the breach between us and the Faith both required and deserved something of a larger display. I wanted it to be seen and to be understood, and so it was, and by the grace of the Dominus we are made reconciled. In such dangerous days as this, it is more important than ever that the Faith and the High Lords -- and the very Crown -- work together and rely on one another.
We cannot get through this alone. The enemies we face are simply too powerful for any one group or individual, no matter how heroic, to prevail.
Now, that being said, it seems that there is a wedding in my near future. I've been blessed with dear friends and family to help me overcome my reticence -- the heavens know my last wedding brings nothing but tainted memories to mind -- and I am pleased that there might be a small touch of something happy to celebrate in the sadness, though there is so much of it. So many dear ones are gone, missing or lost to us, and we are so diminished for their absence. I can only believe, though, that we must seize our happiness, no matter how brief, for recent events prove nothing if they do not prove how fleeting and precious such moments are.
May the gods watch over us, and send us their grace, for surely it is gravely needed now.
Written By Joslyn
Feb. 9, 2017, 2:43 a.m.(11/20/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Calypso
I met the Lady General in an impromptu bit of fight night. Armored up in Juliet's armor. (Note: Get Rubicund) And I had a spar. I think she took it a little easier than she would have, but I managed to surprise her with my skill and managed to knock her to the ground. She fights well, and I'll just be thankful I managed to stay on my feet. I'll have to spar with her again. It was a good time.
Written By Rymarr
Feb. 9, 2017, 12:31 a.m.(11/20/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Reese
A Grayson Princess and stalwart member of the Iron Guard. They're lucky to have her.
She seems able to devote herself to a worthy cause. On top of that fact she has a bravery streak to her. I can only hope that she will maintain that habit, without it getting her killed.
She seems able to devote herself to a worthy cause. On top of that fact she has a bravery streak to her. I can only hope that she will maintain that habit, without it getting her killed.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 8, 2017, 10:41 p.m.(11/20/1005 AR)
Grief is the strangest of the Passions to me. It always becomes anger, hate, fear, it's never it's own separate force, it's own beast that seeks to claw itself from my heart to overtake my mind. Over the past few weeks, however, I began to truly understand how insidious Grief is, and how for even the practiced Mirrormask, can be a danger, if not controlled.
Grief does not burn hot, consuming the heart and mind. It is not cold, an ice that freezes or snaps. The only metaphor I can attribute would be poison. Deadly poison, undetectable in most ways, that works its way through the body, wrapping around the heart, squeezing ever so slightly, but constantly, until one can't remember how it should feel, only the way it feels with those bands about it.
It snakes up into the mind, after curling those soft bands around the throat, applying pressure, to be sure, but trapping words, twisting them, making it so what one thinks and what one says are so very slightly out of harmony, until one is not sure of their own state. It wraps about the ears, like thorny vines, twisting the words coming in as quiet, as subtle as those that flow through the lips. It distorts just enough until one's own mind cripples, isolates, destroys trust and reason.
Make no mistake, Grief is a Passion, like any other... it can be controlled, used, made to serve one instead of being strangled and suffocated. It is a darkness we all feel at some point in our lives, and can turn the saintly into sinners, even before it reaches the depths of despair. One must be careful with it, however... to much force, too much brute strength of will only scatters it, leaves it lingering to infect once that pressure is lessened. Too little and it slimes its way out of the grasp, choking harder in retribution of one's defiance.
I have learned, for me, at least, Grief is not something to tackle alone. Certainly only my own will can truly own it, use it, but it takes others -- a Father, a Brother, a Sister, More than one Friend, a Love -- to give the grounding necessary to overcome the bitch. Only by those that stand with me, can I take a full breath, see the colors painted in the world. Bit by bit, I burn away the Grief that clouds my mind, that strangles my voice. Bit by bit, I transform the cracks in my heart that will never heal, into something beautiful, a work of art painted in gold, making me, not whole, but transformed. Filling the fractures that will ever remain, with precious love, warmth, affection, community, and making me better for it. Grief is not a path to strength, I think, at least not for me... instead, it is a path to a transformed outlook, a way to remind me that the world is beautiful for the people around me, and worth being better for.
It is a different kind of strength I am used to wielding, but perhaps, given time, practice, and those around me, it will be the greatest strength I have ever known. Maybe this is what she saw when she looked at me, this piece of art, vibrant, treasure, strong. I'll keep working on it.
Grief does not burn hot, consuming the heart and mind. It is not cold, an ice that freezes or snaps. The only metaphor I can attribute would be poison. Deadly poison, undetectable in most ways, that works its way through the body, wrapping around the heart, squeezing ever so slightly, but constantly, until one can't remember how it should feel, only the way it feels with those bands about it.
It snakes up into the mind, after curling those soft bands around the throat, applying pressure, to be sure, but trapping words, twisting them, making it so what one thinks and what one says are so very slightly out of harmony, until one is not sure of their own state. It wraps about the ears, like thorny vines, twisting the words coming in as quiet, as subtle as those that flow through the lips. It distorts just enough until one's own mind cripples, isolates, destroys trust and reason.
Make no mistake, Grief is a Passion, like any other... it can be controlled, used, made to serve one instead of being strangled and suffocated. It is a darkness we all feel at some point in our lives, and can turn the saintly into sinners, even before it reaches the depths of despair. One must be careful with it, however... to much force, too much brute strength of will only scatters it, leaves it lingering to infect once that pressure is lessened. Too little and it slimes its way out of the grasp, choking harder in retribution of one's defiance.
I have learned, for me, at least, Grief is not something to tackle alone. Certainly only my own will can truly own it, use it, but it takes others -- a Father, a Brother, a Sister, More than one Friend, a Love -- to give the grounding necessary to overcome the bitch. Only by those that stand with me, can I take a full breath, see the colors painted in the world. Bit by bit, I burn away the Grief that clouds my mind, that strangles my voice. Bit by bit, I transform the cracks in my heart that will never heal, into something beautiful, a work of art painted in gold, making me, not whole, but transformed. Filling the fractures that will ever remain, with precious love, warmth, affection, community, and making me better for it. Grief is not a path to strength, I think, at least not for me... instead, it is a path to a transformed outlook, a way to remind me that the world is beautiful for the people around me, and worth being better for.
It is a different kind of strength I am used to wielding, but perhaps, given time, practice, and those around me, it will be the greatest strength I have ever known. Maybe this is what she saw when she looked at me, this piece of art, vibrant, treasure, strong. I'll keep working on it.
Written By Dominique
Feb. 8, 2017, 6:28 p.m.(11/19/1005 AR)
I had a moment yesterday to get acquainted with Dame Ida's new pet, Runtystiltskin. I also had a chance to spar with her. She is steep competition with just her fists! It is nice to be able to spar with someone that is of my own gender. You know.. land a strike once in a while.
Written By Rymarr
Feb. 8, 2017, 5:59 p.m.(11/19/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Aleksei
It has become my personal goal to bring Sir Aleksei Morgan into the collective fold that is service to His Imperial Majesty, King Alaric Grayson IV.
Sir Aleksei has already thrown out many excuses as to why he is unqualified, yet each has been defeated as soundly as Sir Aleksei has defeated many a foe throughout his career as a knight.
It is only a matter of time and a matter of the people believing that Sir Aleksei Morgan could be an unorthodox, but still quite effective protector of the Crown as a member of the most august protects of His Majesty, the King's Own.
I have unerring faith in Sir Aleksei that he will, with time and reflection, come to recognition the immense amount of good he will be capable of when he does finally give in to destiny. I will welcome him with open arms when that time arrives and seek to take his vow myself if permitted.
Gods be praised.
Sir Aleksei has already thrown out many excuses as to why he is unqualified, yet each has been defeated as soundly as Sir Aleksei has defeated many a foe throughout his career as a knight.
It is only a matter of time and a matter of the people believing that Sir Aleksei Morgan could be an unorthodox, but still quite effective protector of the Crown as a member of the most august protects of His Majesty, the King's Own.
I have unerring faith in Sir Aleksei that he will, with time and reflection, come to recognition the immense amount of good he will be capable of when he does finally give in to destiny. I will welcome him with open arms when that time arrives and seek to take his vow myself if permitted.
Gods be praised.
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