Written By Dmitry
Feb. 4, 2017, 5:10 p.m.(11/7/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Victus
The leader we need.
Written By Bethany
Feb. 4, 2017, 4:04 p.m.(11/7/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Lyiana
Oh ... it's gorgeous.
Written By Julea
Feb. 4, 2017, 12:02 p.m.(11/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Agnarr
So close. I think that's about the closest I've ever come to beating you. You're getting faster though and you still hit like an ox.
Written By Valencia
Feb. 4, 2017, 11:58 a.m.(11/6/1005 AR)
It is interesting that some preach about a virtue and yet find it so very hard to demonstrate it.
This is not a condemnation. Just an observation. I suppose that it is a very human thing to do.
~~~~<~@
This is not a condemnation. Just an observation. I suppose that it is a very human thing to do.
~~~~<~@
Written By Percephon
Feb. 4, 2017, 11:42 a.m.(11/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Monique
A true friend. One who isn't afraid to speak her mind, and will not let the heat of an argument linger long. Not only is she remarkably resourceful, willing to delve into the most odd of investigations, but she has proven her worth as someone to trust.
Written By Percephon
Feb. 4, 2017, 11:38 a.m.(11/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Aislin
A stalwart companion on our trip to the Grove. She had nothing but respect for our journey, and her ability to translate, along with Monique, proved invaluable. While I did not witness it, her sharpness with the bow was most useful. I only hope she understands that the... incident with the mushrooms was not my typical behavior.
Written By Cicero
Feb. 4, 2017, 9:52 a.m.(11/6/1005 AR)
A spar with a bet.
Should I lose? Readers suffer.
Well, a little more.
Should I lose? Readers suffer.
Well, a little more.
Written By Calliope
Feb. 4, 2017, 7:42 a.m.(11/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Victus
Thankfully, he didn't take me up on my 'offer'. What a complicated, odd interaction I seem to have with the Highlord. It's becoming less intimidating and more direct each time, and I think it will end up being quite beneficial. Hopefully both ways.
Written By Julea
Feb. 4, 2017, 7:02 a.m.(11/6/1005 AR)
The Making of a Smith
When I was young, having just past my eighth winter, my mother left me with my father, who I had never met. Among a people I did not know, traditions and customs I could not fathom. She abandoned me and I have not seen her since.
So-my-father-who-was-not raised me, and I saw none of me reflected in his visage. He was typical of the north, gruff, with striking red hair and light skin that had a splattering of freckles. If he knew I was not his, he never voiced it, and he treated me like I was his own. Even when there was tantrum after tantrum of me demanding to see my mother, calling him everything but Father, he still did not cast me out.
It is never easy, being uprooted from everything you know, and deposited among strangers. And in hindsight, looking back, it is easy to see that I was something of a brat. The other children in the village were quick to mock me for my strange accent, my foreign looks, my height. Everything about me became something to poke fun of. And I learned to fend off their taunts with barbed insults that were oh so much sharper, that cut that much deeper. And they quickly learned to keep their distance.
When I demanded to be taught how to Smith, he refused. I kept asking. He kept saying no. We were both equally stubborn and it became a daily request. Realising that it wasn't going to work, one day, while he was visiting Whitehold, I decided to give it a shot. I'd spent many hours watching him, how hard could it be, thought my nine-year-old-self. Turns out, pretty fucking hard, and it was Takruid that responded to my high pitched scream. Him that immediately dunked my arm in water and called for the healer and consoled me until my Father returned. I think he blamed Tak for it, as he was charged with keeping an eye out for me, but it was not his fault. Would of done it anyways. Not much the butcher could of done to stop me.
And I think my Father was so terrified that I'd do it again, he finally agreed. But not till I turned ten. And so, that is how I came to be a smith. And we started lessons when I was nine and three quarters. I have never been very patient.
When I was young, having just past my eighth winter, my mother left me with my father, who I had never met. Among a people I did not know, traditions and customs I could not fathom. She abandoned me and I have not seen her since.
So-my-father-who-was-not raised me, and I saw none of me reflected in his visage. He was typical of the north, gruff, with striking red hair and light skin that had a splattering of freckles. If he knew I was not his, he never voiced it, and he treated me like I was his own. Even when there was tantrum after tantrum of me demanding to see my mother, calling him everything but Father, he still did not cast me out.
It is never easy, being uprooted from everything you know, and deposited among strangers. And in hindsight, looking back, it is easy to see that I was something of a brat. The other children in the village were quick to mock me for my strange accent, my foreign looks, my height. Everything about me became something to poke fun of. And I learned to fend off their taunts with barbed insults that were oh so much sharper, that cut that much deeper. And they quickly learned to keep their distance.
When I demanded to be taught how to Smith, he refused. I kept asking. He kept saying no. We were both equally stubborn and it became a daily request. Realising that it wasn't going to work, one day, while he was visiting Whitehold, I decided to give it a shot. I'd spent many hours watching him, how hard could it be, thought my nine-year-old-self. Turns out, pretty fucking hard, and it was Takruid that responded to my high pitched scream. Him that immediately dunked my arm in water and called for the healer and consoled me until my Father returned. I think he blamed Tak for it, as he was charged with keeping an eye out for me, but it was not his fault. Would of done it anyways. Not much the butcher could of done to stop me.
And I think my Father was so terrified that I'd do it again, he finally agreed. But not till I turned ten. And so, that is how I came to be a smith. And we started lessons when I was nine and three quarters. I have never been very patient.
Written By Calathane
Feb. 4, 2017, 3:13 a.m.(11/5/1005 AR)
The first week...
I have been in the city or Arx for only a few days and have become aware of far more things then I could have ever if I had stayed in my homeland. To meeting the freckled faced guardsman in silvered armor named Reese. To finding the grove of Arx dead and lifeless a story I've yet to hear and so badly desire to. But I feel that it is only a beginning, a new branch of the path that I am on that has brought me here to this place at this time to make a difference in Arx and for those that live there, including myself now.
And then there was the last day, perhaps the most busy and wonderfully enthralling days I have ever had in my life. From my accepting the position in the Iron Guard as their bowman and resident shaman to meeting the most intriguing woman I have yet to ever lay eyes on, or enjoy making blush so much and so easily. Between that I met the mouse and hope to teach her more about the ways of old, to show her that inside she has a power she has yet to find. I also met Princess Brianna and Valencia who strike me as some of the most imposing Redrain women I have ever had the chance to meet. And the two brothers of Redrain, Mydas and Sigurd who have given me liquor and a challenge as well to find out how I might acquire more of their families fine liquor.
The Iron Guard, a good group of people who I hope to meet more of during a training session set for the morrows eve. I hope I do not disappoint as my martial skills are something I need to work upon, but that shouldn't be as hard now that I have joined their ranks and with the help of other Redrain members too. Reese, the adorable silvered-armor Guardsmen, Sparte, the comical brave with inspiration, Silas, the ignoble leader. I'll add many more names to this list once I have met them and fought beside them to better the city and protect it. I will also ever be in Julea's debt, the marvel she has done with putting a new bite and sharpness into my Wings of Drac axes is simply a marvel and did not charge me a single silver piece.
Yet it all pales to that which I spoke of, a wild wind that came and spoke more to me than of bravery, honor or hope. I spoke of Drac and on one hand I can count as many people I have told about my spirit that guides me and how he came to be. It is my strength, my weakness, my friend when I had no others, for truth it is myself that is Drac and Drac is myself. The woman with whom the spirits resound so strongly, Neve, like the winds blowing down from the north mountains the feeling of her scent prickled at my nose. Her words, the coloring of her cheeks when I would speak to her. The way she stumbled with words when I would make her laugh and lose her senses. I would listen far more, speak to her more, see more of her and how her flesh reddens when I look upon her and into her smiling face, dimpling cheeks and her blue eyes that know no depth that I could drown in them and be happy to have died thus. I will seek her out and her father the Bear of Greenmarch, Lord Muir and test myself against his resolve. One hopes I survive to write again.
Lord Calathane Drumenach,
Baron's son of Hargthon Drumenach and of Redrain.
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 Felix
Feb. 4, 2017, 2:35 a.m.(11/5/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Aleksei
I like him alright. I don't know the guy well, but he's funny. Quick wit, that one.
Written By Felix
Feb. 4, 2017, 2:28 a.m.(11/5/1005 AR)
Shards it's getting cold. Otherwise it's just another day in Arx. Going about my day and working the forge like no one's watching. Or is that just for dancing?
As eventful as previous weeks have been, this one has proven to be fairly uneventful. The Commoners Assembly was a good experience to have, though it did run on a bit long. Hopefully folks realize the Knights of Solace are doing everything they can to help. Here's hoping for another uneventful week.
As eventful as previous weeks have been, this one has proven to be fairly uneventful. The Commoners Assembly was a good experience to have, though it did run on a bit long. Hopefully folks realize the Knights of Solace are doing everything they can to help. Here's hoping for another uneventful week.
Written By Harald
Feb. 4, 2017, 12:54 a.m.(11/5/1005 AR)
I know not why folk claim that Men of the Isles cannot be trusted by mainlanders. It seems all that is needed is good drink and a worthy foe to discuss destroying, and all is well between warriors of the Compact.
When next we meet it will be on the field of battle and thereafter, to death or glory.
When next we meet it will be on the field of battle and thereafter, to death or glory.
Written By Zhayla
Feb. 3, 2017, 10:12 p.m.(11/5/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Hana
She can't be much older than me, if anything at all, but I've heard she does the most remarkable work! I won a rubicund weapon at the festival in the boroughs, and she's going to make it for me, but talking her out of naming it something awful of covering it in some sort of sigil was the work of days. DAYS!!
It sounds funny to me still, the way people cover themselves in symbols and go around calling themselves things they aren't. She said -- hmm, I don't remember what her first suggestion was, but let's pretend it's The Hammer, because she's going to make me a giant axe hammer maul thing. And she said it would sound so cool if everyone ran around like 'Wow, did you see how hard The Hammer hit?'
But I'd rather that when people talk about me, they talk about /me/. I have a name. Just one name, which not as much of a name of a lot of people in the city, but it's my name. And Hana's agreed to make me a weapon that honors that.
Also she's a lot of fun to go take wave stomping.
It sounds funny to me still, the way people cover themselves in symbols and go around calling themselves things they aren't. She said -- hmm, I don't remember what her first suggestion was, but let's pretend it's The Hammer, because she's going to make me a giant axe hammer maul thing. And she said it would sound so cool if everyone ran around like 'Wow, did you see how hard The Hammer hit?'
But I'd rather that when people talk about me, they talk about /me/. I have a name. Just one name, which not as much of a name of a lot of people in the city, but it's my name. And Hana's agreed to make me a weapon that honors that.
Also she's a lot of fun to go take wave stomping.
Written By Morrighan
Feb. 3, 2017, 10:11 p.m.(11/5/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Muiryn
I first met him one day earlier in the summer when he came into my shop, looking to do some business. I've met a Greenmarch or two before him, but I found the giant to be rather personable, and his daughter has an adorable personality. We came to an agreement that I would use the furs, leathers, stones, and other materials that they're renown for, and they're quite fine. They'll make lovely clothes. I spent a good part of my morning drinking with him, and despite the bit that occurred at Stone Grove, I rather like the man. I think if I had known my own Father, maybe he would have been a little like Muiryn?
Written By Zhayla
Feb. 3, 2017, 9:06 p.m.(11/4/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
It's easy to forget that Joscelin is Guildmaster because of her kindness -- and because of her mouth!! I expected her to be scarier, more wrapped up in power or something. But it seems like every time I see her, she's carrying another weight. But she's still kind, even through her grief, and I'm glad to count her a friend.
PS: also she's happy to feed me, which definitely helps with the good feelings.
PS: also she's happy to feed me, which definitely helps with the good feelings.
Written By Zhayla
Feb. 3, 2017, 8:51 p.m.(11/4/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Ianthe
I'm looking forward to hearing more of your stories when you get back, Ianthe. And so is everyone else.
Because you are coming back, I know it. You were a tremendous friend even in the short time I knew you, and everything I see reflected in the faces of those who were lucky enough to know you longer just makes me wish I'd heard more of this from you. I'll keep them safe, though, until you're back. I'll keep everything of yours safe, because it's the only thing I know how to do.
Because you are coming back, I know it. You were a tremendous friend even in the short time I knew you, and everything I see reflected in the faces of those who were lucky enough to know you longer just makes me wish I'd heard more of this from you. I'll keep them safe, though, until you're back. I'll keep everything of yours safe, because it's the only thing I know how to do.
Written By Serafine
Feb. 3, 2017, 7:50 p.m.(11/4/1005 AR)
I received a notification about the Guard training session coming up this week. A little flyer drawn up, and a friend of mine circled this part:
"And for fun, there will be a Silas + Serafine versus the rest of the Guard handicap match."
Abyss-YES.
"And for fun, there will be a Silas + Serafine versus the rest of the Guard handicap match."
Abyss-YES.
Written By Monique
Feb. 3, 2017, 6:38 p.m.(11/4/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Samantha
I'll freely admit, when I first heard your story, I was suspicious. Very suspicious. It was such an unlikely tale. And apparently true, every sentence of it. I'll do everything I'm able to help, and I would be honored to call you 'friend'.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.