Written By Jeremiah
Feb. 1, 2017, 12:58 a.m.(10/24/1005 AR)
[This entry is written in a precise, flowing, almost delicate hand. It is titled 'A Defense: On The Sin Of Being Circular.']
I was accused of being circular--I had it explained to me. I asked for someone's opinion twice, not having liked the first answer, I'm told(I do not know how or even if this happened, but this is not a defense of that): this is the definition of being circular. By this demerit, I am told I am unfit for my position--perhaps even by one whose opinion would threaten such. It is a humbling thought, at first, but...
I will remain circular--if given an opinion I do not believe is best for Arvum, the Crown, and the Compact, I will speak again. I will batter down any barrier between myself and the betterment of our nation. I will seek to convince--if you are unyielding, I will move on. I hope you will not remain offended by my persistence(two did-- Duke Leo Fidante accepted me for what I was, however, and I respected him all the more for it.), but I will not be any less persistent.
I will remain circular--if presented with an obstacle that I am told I cannot climb over, I will seek a way around it. If it cannot be crossed, may I go under--ever forward. Relentlessly energetic, relentlessly seeking the better tomorrow.
I will remain circular--I will proudly be as I am. I am what is termed circular--I will encircle. I will besiege, I will battle, I will charge--I will give ground where I must. But one defeat is not enough for me--one 'no', one slammed door? There is a -window-. There is ever opportunity. There are some of us in this life who have had to -live- by this creed. I will ever do my best to represent those who have.
I will turn a demerit into a merit, I will remain who I am--young. Eager. Ready, willing, and able to use my talents, such as they are--with a position or without. I remain Crownsworn, Compactsworn, Arvumsworn. I remain circular, proudly--I would term it persistent, but I will bear the badge of circular unashamed.
I was accused of being circular--I had it explained to me. I asked for someone's opinion twice, not having liked the first answer, I'm told(I do not know how or even if this happened, but this is not a defense of that): this is the definition of being circular. By this demerit, I am told I am unfit for my position--perhaps even by one whose opinion would threaten such. It is a humbling thought, at first, but...
I will remain circular--if given an opinion I do not believe is best for Arvum, the Crown, and the Compact, I will speak again. I will batter down any barrier between myself and the betterment of our nation. I will seek to convince--if you are unyielding, I will move on. I hope you will not remain offended by my persistence(two did-- Duke Leo Fidante accepted me for what I was, however, and I respected him all the more for it.), but I will not be any less persistent.
I will remain circular--if presented with an obstacle that I am told I cannot climb over, I will seek a way around it. If it cannot be crossed, may I go under--ever forward. Relentlessly energetic, relentlessly seeking the better tomorrow.
I will remain circular--I will proudly be as I am. I am what is termed circular--I will encircle. I will besiege, I will battle, I will charge--I will give ground where I must. But one defeat is not enough for me--one 'no', one slammed door? There is a -window-. There is ever opportunity. There are some of us in this life who have had to -live- by this creed. I will ever do my best to represent those who have.
I will turn a demerit into a merit, I will remain who I am--young. Eager. Ready, willing, and able to use my talents, such as they are--with a position or without. I remain Crownsworn, Compactsworn, Arvumsworn. I remain circular, proudly--I would term it persistent, but I will bear the badge of circular unashamed.
Written By Jeremiah
Feb. 1, 2017, 12:42 a.m.(10/24/1005 AR)
[This entry is written in a precise, flowing, almost delicate hand.]
I do understand I write quite a lot, at times--fifteen, twenty, thirty pages--so be it.
[A note in the margins reads: I Was Once Accused Of Fifty Pages--Thank You Aleksei, But I Have Yet To Go So Far.]
But two pages? Two pages is too much to be read? Certain things are complicated for some where they are not for others--the process by which a farmer lays hand on his meat it simple. He butchers the hog. But a man in the city goes to the butcher, who bought it from a merchant, who bought it off a farmer. The process is more complicated.
The process by which Lords and Ladies of the Lycene drink ice-chilled wine is an entirely different process--ice from mountains or further north, packed into shipping containers covered in sawdust, shipped south or to the cities hurriedly, sold at a premium--but a man in Whitehold does not wonder why ice in a drink is difficult for the Lycene to get his hands on(I would daresay he barely wonders about the Lycenes at all, or ice--one is too distant, the other too everpresent).
So it is that some things which are simple for the nobility are more complicated for those who are not--one may not simply say 'Why does the common man not address the High Council,' I would hope(if one does, they say it simply--and I mean that). I was told most innocently recently that I should carouse with those I wish to convince--imagine telling that to the poorest man in the Lower Boroughs(I have been so poor). Those are the ones the Common Council was meant to represent. -I- may be able to afford such, at times(from my other work, not this)--it is an excess I am unused to. It is an excess some are unable to. It is an excess.
Simply wine and dine the Lords and Ladies, the Princes and Princesses--simply address the High Council. Why make it so damn complicated, Jeremiah?
It put me in a fit of pique, and not my politest mood--the less said about the rest, the better, save that I am ashamed that I find myself willing to rise insult to insult, blow to blow--in some ways I am unfit, it is true. I accept that--when sacrifices are asked of the Common Council, I have sworn and will swear again--if it leads to improvements on the Common Council, I will help lay my position on the line first. I will be the first to go. I will craft something of worth and remove myself from the picture if only it means something of worth can be made.
But the Gods and Spirits put me in this position, and I am a patriot--I am Crownsworn, a title once borne with the highest honor. I will die and live(the higher sacrifice) by that honor and by that service. The Sentinel, the rest of the Gods, the Spirits--they demand nothing less of men.
But--truly? Two pages were too much to read? Why make it so complicated? The lack of perspective floors me--I am left utterly disarmed. Two pages are too much to read, yet judgments are easy to make beforehand. I stand ashamed, but others should as well.
[A footnote reads: I still stand by my statement--I see no blockage, save in letters unreturned and ignored--Gods and Spirits help the common man, and the poorest of us. Gods and Spirits help me. Come to think of it, Gods and Spirits help us all. Two pages is too much.]
I do understand I write quite a lot, at times--fifteen, twenty, thirty pages--so be it.
[A note in the margins reads: I Was Once Accused Of Fifty Pages--Thank You Aleksei, But I Have Yet To Go So Far.]
But two pages? Two pages is too much to be read? Certain things are complicated for some where they are not for others--the process by which a farmer lays hand on his meat it simple. He butchers the hog. But a man in the city goes to the butcher, who bought it from a merchant, who bought it off a farmer. The process is more complicated.
The process by which Lords and Ladies of the Lycene drink ice-chilled wine is an entirely different process--ice from mountains or further north, packed into shipping containers covered in sawdust, shipped south or to the cities hurriedly, sold at a premium--but a man in Whitehold does not wonder why ice in a drink is difficult for the Lycene to get his hands on(I would daresay he barely wonders about the Lycenes at all, or ice--one is too distant, the other too everpresent).
So it is that some things which are simple for the nobility are more complicated for those who are not--one may not simply say 'Why does the common man not address the High Council,' I would hope(if one does, they say it simply--and I mean that). I was told most innocently recently that I should carouse with those I wish to convince--imagine telling that to the poorest man in the Lower Boroughs(I have been so poor). Those are the ones the Common Council was meant to represent. -I- may be able to afford such, at times(from my other work, not this)--it is an excess I am unused to. It is an excess some are unable to. It is an excess.
Simply wine and dine the Lords and Ladies, the Princes and Princesses--simply address the High Council. Why make it so damn complicated, Jeremiah?
It put me in a fit of pique, and not my politest mood--the less said about the rest, the better, save that I am ashamed that I find myself willing to rise insult to insult, blow to blow--in some ways I am unfit, it is true. I accept that--when sacrifices are asked of the Common Council, I have sworn and will swear again--if it leads to improvements on the Common Council, I will help lay my position on the line first. I will be the first to go. I will craft something of worth and remove myself from the picture if only it means something of worth can be made.
But the Gods and Spirits put me in this position, and I am a patriot--I am Crownsworn, a title once borne with the highest honor. I will die and live(the higher sacrifice) by that honor and by that service. The Sentinel, the rest of the Gods, the Spirits--they demand nothing less of men.
But--truly? Two pages were too much to read? Why make it so complicated? The lack of perspective floors me--I am left utterly disarmed. Two pages are too much to read, yet judgments are easy to make beforehand. I stand ashamed, but others should as well.
[A footnote reads: I still stand by my statement--I see no blockage, save in letters unreturned and ignored--Gods and Spirits help the common man, and the poorest of us. Gods and Spirits help me. Come to think of it, Gods and Spirits help us all. Two pages is too much.]
Written By Rainier
Jan. 31, 2017, 11:44 p.m.(10/24/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Maude
Auntie needs help and I have rarely felt as guilty as I did for my choices. I do not regret them but the burden she carries! And she does it stoically, with grace and even some humor I fail to see how she can summon at all.
Perhaps there will be a last stand on a bridge after all, a call to arms where the last of the willing and the capable will gather and cross the final line together. If that day comes we could all do a lot worse than being marshaled there by this Lady.
Perhaps there will be a last stand on a bridge after all, a call to arms where the last of the willing and the capable will gather and cross the final line together. If that day comes we could all do a lot worse than being marshaled there by this Lady.
Written By Rainier
Jan. 31, 2017, 11:41 p.m.(10/24/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Harald
This one was not at all what I expected; that he enjoys his family's respect and reverence is clear. That he is surrounded by strong women who see the world differently than he does and he's frustrated by all the ways they are pulling away from his vision is also clear. But he wants what is best for them and he understands the truth of the world; that it laughs at our plans and mocks our wishes. Things are as they are. He sees it.
Written By Inigo
Jan. 31, 2017, 11:34 p.m.(10/24/1005 AR)
*excerpt from the travel notes of Lord Inigo Malvici*
I don't know what I expected but I expected more...
More than the eerie calm that had settled over the stretch of landscape where Eos met his end, more than the seemingly endless sheet of sand and landscape turned to black glass, more than the complete utter lack of answers to any of the questions that have presented themselves.
The visions of nightmares and strange oppressive sicknesses... all things pointing to ruin, death, destruction, and despair... not a trace was seen nor even a scrap of a clue to pursue. In some manner this is exactly what I wanted. Southport was fine, Southport would BE fine....
But now there's no manner of assurance for the future...
I don't know what I expected but I expected more...
More than the eerie calm that had settled over the stretch of landscape where Eos met his end, more than the seemingly endless sheet of sand and landscape turned to black glass, more than the complete utter lack of answers to any of the questions that have presented themselves.
The visions of nightmares and strange oppressive sicknesses... all things pointing to ruin, death, destruction, and despair... not a trace was seen nor even a scrap of a clue to pursue. In some manner this is exactly what I wanted. Southport was fine, Southport would BE fine....
But now there's no manner of assurance for the future...
Written By Isolde
Jan. 31, 2017, 6:37 p.m.(10/23/1005 AR)
The Light, and I your Shadow
Admiration, Awe untold.
I could always see the tears unshed,
And the joys restrained.
I knew how you loved.
Wished I could be all you never
Realized you were.
And now a Shadow has no Light.
Formless, lost, bound, gagged, trapped.
Every flower whispers your name,
Every jewel sparkles with your grace.
The best part of me,
Dimmed with the loss of your Light.
Written By Eleyna
Jan. 31, 2017, 6:16 p.m.(10/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Esera
On my sixteenth birthday, I was convinced that everyone had forgotten me. My mother was many years dead. My sister had disappeared and was given up for dead. My father... well, no one could ever accuse Marik Velenosa of caring too much about his daughters. That night, Esera came to me with a gift. A dress. A perfect blue dress that she said matched my eyes. There was a party. Nothing overly large, but there was dancing and music. And Esera smiling at me, reminding me that I was never truly alone, no matter how much it felt as though I was.
Hers was the little hand that found mine at my mother's funeral when I was five. Esera was the one who got me drunk on Tor red the night before my first wedding because I was too anxious to sleep. She was my cousin and friend long before she was ever my Grand Duchess. That is who my heart aches for now.
Yet, even though she is gone, she is still there to remind that none of us are alone, even without her. There is still the family. Always. She bonded us all and, through her memory, the Velenosa will rise stronger than ever. As she would have wanted of us.
Hers was the little hand that found mine at my mother's funeral when I was five. Esera was the one who got me drunk on Tor red the night before my first wedding because I was too anxious to sleep. She was my cousin and friend long before she was ever my Grand Duchess. That is who my heart aches for now.
Yet, even though she is gone, she is still there to remind that none of us are alone, even without her. There is still the family. Always. She bonded us all and, through her memory, the Velenosa will rise stronger than ever. As she would have wanted of us.
Written By Merek
Jan. 31, 2017, 5:14 p.m.(10/23/1005 AR)
Discovered a lot since my travels out to recover the team from the Society of Explorers. Beginning to wonder just who I am, at times. What am I? What are people? In this dance that seems to echo upon all lands, will the commoners be much more than they were before? I'd like to think that I could protect everyone with my new mantle as a Guard, but can I really manage that? I hope that I'm able. Met new people though, and have new friends, perhaps. That is wonderful.
Written By Sylvie
Jan. 31, 2017, 5:10 p.m.(10/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Esera
You cannot know the amount of respect that I held for you, truly. You were a woman not afraid to admit to a mistake, but strong enough not to dwell on it. You did not rush to judgment. You were willing to sacrifice for others. And despite the weight of your position, you also were able to set it aside and enjoy yourself, when it was appropriate. You were able to brush aside things that were light and bear yourself under the burden of those that were heavy.
There were many sacrifices I was willing to make in your name, Esera, and I was glad to follow a liege like you. I would have been proud to call you daughter-in-law, if it had been.
The Lyceum is truly worse for your loss.
There were many sacrifices I was willing to make in your name, Esera, and I was glad to follow a liege like you. I would have been proud to call you daughter-in-law, if it had been.
The Lyceum is truly worse for your loss.
Written By Ida
Jan. 31, 2017, 3:41 p.m.(10/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Esera
It seems like a hundred years ago when Her Grace, Grand Duchess Esera Velenosa, visited my shop. Even with the amount of time that has passed, I am no less awed by the memory of that visit. As I think I wrote then, the Grand Duchess fills a room the moment she walks in. You can just feel her presence, should that make sense. I think I expected far more...distance, perhaps. Aloofness, y'know. A smith's shop just didn't seem like a place someone so refined and near-ethereal would visit. She was warm and kind while remaining a Grand Duchess in my every sense of the word.
She asked me to complete some tasks for her, which I failed to do. Utterly and completely. This or that commission took my attention, or a fight, or something that shouldn't have taken precedence after her graciousness. She never once asked why not, where were the things she'd asked after? Never a word.
I can still complete them, though, and believe I will. I owe her that much.
She asked me to complete some tasks for her, which I failed to do. Utterly and completely. This or that commission took my attention, or a fight, or something that shouldn't have taken precedence after her graciousness. She never once asked why not, where were the things she'd asked after? Never a word.
I can still complete them, though, and believe I will. I owe her that much.
Written By Alis
Jan. 31, 2017, 3:39 p.m.(10/23/1005 AR)
There are times when I wonder, if maybe we added a few extra hours in the day I could get enough done that I didn't feel like I was simply treading water. But then I realize that in those few extra hours, there would simply be another disaster that would happen. And with it, a flood of messengers and the desire to stab something.
Make that multiple somethings.
Make that multiple somethings.
Written By Lark
Jan. 31, 2017, 2:07 p.m.(10/23/1005 AR)
The first time I entered the Palace since my cousin the King fell into his deep sleep, it was to seek an audience with Princess Dawn then Lady Regent Dawn to interview for the position of Minister of Civil Development. She'd been calling it Minister of Population at the time.
I've never had a talent for rubbing shoulders or putting on theatrically friendly airs, but I have always considered myself to be a skilled administrator and economist. And whatever mistakes I have made in life, I have always considered myself to be Good. I hadn't, of course, thought she'd give me the appointment ...being a silly, pompously-academic princess ...toting naive ideals about the welfare of everyday people whom I foolishly almost never deigned to meet ...raised in the safe and luxurious cocoon of the Bastion, and what protective wing of that place exists here in Arx.
Years prior I'd developed a system with which to track rehomed wards, which King Alaric had already given me leave to facilitate through Grayson funds --- he was always very obliging with those. What I found was that, and this does not at all surprise me in retrospect but at the time remember who I was, a great many of them disappear. Unwanted and unknown, they fall through every manner of hairline crack that exists. It was with this system and the patterns (predictors) identified from it -- who is most at risk, who is most in need -- that I attained my position as Minister, with the prospect of expanding it so as to better serve those Without.
Presently, I've come to inhabit almost exclusively a certain desk once owned by Queen Alarice herself if you can even imagine... I spend more time behind it than I do in my rooms. I bring it up because in cleaning some of it, I found a great deal of notes from that particular project, the uncirculated Census -- the purpose of which was to identify and predict vulnerabilities, to be taken into consideration when making key decisions in the distribution of aid resources -- which has been pushed aside by catastrophe after catastrophe.
So many Losses...
With the influx of refugees and those in need now flooding Grayson Ward and the Bastion... in My ward... in the lands within My influence... I have decided to implement it. I just ...so desperately need to look at something and be able to say, "That was a Win."
I've never had a talent for rubbing shoulders or putting on theatrically friendly airs, but I have always considered myself to be a skilled administrator and economist. And whatever mistakes I have made in life, I have always considered myself to be Good. I hadn't, of course, thought she'd give me the appointment ...being a silly, pompously-academic princess ...toting naive ideals about the welfare of everyday people whom I foolishly almost never deigned to meet ...raised in the safe and luxurious cocoon of the Bastion, and what protective wing of that place exists here in Arx.
Years prior I'd developed a system with which to track rehomed wards, which King Alaric had already given me leave to facilitate through Grayson funds --- he was always very obliging with those. What I found was that, and this does not at all surprise me in retrospect but at the time remember who I was, a great many of them disappear. Unwanted and unknown, they fall through every manner of hairline crack that exists. It was with this system and the patterns (predictors) identified from it -- who is most at risk, who is most in need -- that I attained my position as Minister, with the prospect of expanding it so as to better serve those Without.
Presently, I've come to inhabit almost exclusively a certain desk once owned by Queen Alarice herself if you can even imagine... I spend more time behind it than I do in my rooms. I bring it up because in cleaning some of it, I found a great deal of notes from that particular project, the uncirculated Census -- the purpose of which was to identify and predict vulnerabilities, to be taken into consideration when making key decisions in the distribution of aid resources -- which has been pushed aside by catastrophe after catastrophe.
So many Losses...
With the influx of refugees and those in need now flooding Grayson Ward and the Bastion... in My ward... in the lands within My influence... I have decided to implement it. I just ...so desperately need to look at something and be able to say, "That was a Win."
Written By Simone
Jan. 31, 2017, 1:32 p.m.(10/22/1005 AR)
To the gentle reader of these, please, forgive the unusual request.
While in my convalescence it occurs to me how the tedium of remaining abed can be. Which is why I reach out to write to seek you - gentle reader. I wish only to learn more about the city around me, and the only way to do so to any success will be to learn about its people. In these times of fear and doubt - we must reach out to one another. Learn of each other outside of the insular Houses and Families of Arx.
If the gentle reader could write, tell me a bit or two about yourself. Tell me of your wonder, your happiness, your sadness or your anger if you seek the sympathetic of a stranger that promises never to share. If you are alone, gentle reader, you need not be. We could start a correspondence, and become friends. It would be wonderful to hear from you.
M. Simone Greenmarch
10/22/1005 AR
While in my convalescence it occurs to me how the tedium of remaining abed can be. Which is why I reach out to write to seek you - gentle reader. I wish only to learn more about the city around me, and the only way to do so to any success will be to learn about its people. In these times of fear and doubt - we must reach out to one another. Learn of each other outside of the insular Houses and Families of Arx.
If the gentle reader could write, tell me a bit or two about yourself. Tell me of your wonder, your happiness, your sadness or your anger if you seek the sympathetic of a stranger that promises never to share. If you are alone, gentle reader, you need not be. We could start a correspondence, and become friends. It would be wonderful to hear from you.
M. Simone Greenmarch
10/22/1005 AR
Written By Reese
Jan. 31, 2017, 12:11 p.m.(10/22/1005 AR)
It is difficult to come up with the right words.
Nothing that I can say will be enough.
Nothing that I can do will be enough
And yet I still have faith.
I did not know the Duchess well.
She was a figure from the distance.
I am sorry for her loss
I cannot begin to understand how her family must feel
I sing for Dawn. Prince Dagon taught me a song. A prayer.
I sing and have faith in her return.
If I knew were to look. I would go bring her back.
I do not.
I stand at the vigil as an Iron Guard.
Who do I defend? Who do I protect?
My faith persists. Father Orazio is a good man.
Sir Silas is a good man.
Prince Tristram is a good man.
We will get through this, but we will never be the same.
The damage will never fully heal.
The scar will remind us.
I stand as an Iron Guard.
Keep the crowd under control, protect the crown, said Sir Rymarr
I looked over to Prince Edain and wondered how.
But in his sorrow he was controlled.
I did not have to arrest Prince Luca.
He carried those who insult him, gently away.
In his sorrow he was controlled
This is why we will persist
This is why we will fight the bringers and win
In our sorrow we are controlled
In our sorrow, we still have faith
Nothing that I can say will be enough.
Nothing that I can do will be enough
And yet I still have faith.
I did not know the Duchess well.
She was a figure from the distance.
I am sorry for her loss
I cannot begin to understand how her family must feel
I sing for Dawn. Prince Dagon taught me a song. A prayer.
I sing and have faith in her return.
If I knew were to look. I would go bring her back.
I do not.
I stand at the vigil as an Iron Guard.
Who do I defend? Who do I protect?
My faith persists. Father Orazio is a good man.
Sir Silas is a good man.
Prince Tristram is a good man.
We will get through this, but we will never be the same.
The damage will never fully heal.
The scar will remind us.
I stand as an Iron Guard.
Keep the crowd under control, protect the crown, said Sir Rymarr
I looked over to Prince Edain and wondered how.
But in his sorrow he was controlled.
I did not have to arrest Prince Luca.
He carried those who insult him, gently away.
In his sorrow he was controlled
This is why we will persist
This is why we will fight the bringers and win
In our sorrow we are controlled
In our sorrow, we still have faith
Written By Perrach
Jan. 31, 2017, 10:45 a.m.(10/22/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Valerius
You got something in you that I can respect and it's far far beneath the rose smelling bullshit the rest of world knows.
Written By Aislin
Jan. 31, 2017, 10:44 a.m.(10/22/1005 AR)
I have made mistakes.
The first time, someone else paid the price.
The second time, I may have endangered far more than myself; while the final fault may not be mine, I likely started no few down a road they won't thank me for.
The third time, any risk should be mine alone, at least if I have anything to say about it. Or at the least, shared only with the handful who now truly comprehend the risk.
Maybe I should hand the Society over to Pietro or Lou and focus more intensely on specific things independently, as I once did? I refuse to be stopped, but perhaps information really is too dangerous to be shared widely, for now.
I swear my path seemed more clear, once. Through the dark, yes, and without a map, but at least the direction was obvious.
Now... I just no longer know.
Maybe some time to think will give greater clarity.
The first time, someone else paid the price.
The second time, I may have endangered far more than myself; while the final fault may not be mine, I likely started no few down a road they won't thank me for.
The third time, any risk should be mine alone, at least if I have anything to say about it. Or at the least, shared only with the handful who now truly comprehend the risk.
Maybe I should hand the Society over to Pietro or Lou and focus more intensely on specific things independently, as I once did? I refuse to be stopped, but perhaps information really is too dangerous to be shared widely, for now.
I swear my path seemed more clear, once. Through the dark, yes, and without a map, but at least the direction was obvious.
Now... I just no longer know.
Maybe some time to think will give greater clarity.
Written By Perrach
Jan. 31, 2017, 10:43 a.m.(10/22/1005 AR)
I have, in their words, "...lamentably fallen short of the standards of etiquette and decorum expected..." and "are hereby prohibited from the totality of the Whisper House." Until I become some fancy dancy creampuff.
Well shit. That's got to be an accomplishment somewhere.
Well shit. That's got to be an accomplishment somewhere.
Written By Talen
Jan. 31, 2017, 8:54 a.m.(10/22/1005 AR)
***
A sketch has been included into the diaries of Sir Talen Artiglio, Sword of the Velenosa, Dark Knight of Lenosia. It depicts the arrangement of a few pieces of armour amongst candles upon Sovereign Bridge:
a gleaming, polished steel helmet with a visor reminiscent of a mirrormask a sharp
taloned pair of steel gauntlets constructed by overlapping plates a shining
knee-high set of steel sollerets that taper into hooked points
***
I failed you, but I will not fail our family. This is the end of a chapter, but the beginning of another.
A sketch has been included into the diaries of Sir Talen Artiglio, Sword of the Velenosa, Dark Knight of Lenosia. It depicts the arrangement of a few pieces of armour amongst candles upon Sovereign Bridge:
a gleaming, polished steel helmet with a visor reminiscent of a mirrormask a sharp
taloned pair of steel gauntlets constructed by overlapping plates a shining
knee-high set of steel sollerets that taper into hooked points
***
I failed you, but I will not fail our family. This is the end of a chapter, but the beginning of another.
Written By Silas
Jan. 31, 2017, 7:53 a.m.(10/22/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Benjamin
He's pleasant to talk to and I hope I provided some degree of entertainment.
Not sure what about me reminds him of a duck, though.
Not sure what about me reminds him of a duck, though.
Written By Silas
Jan. 31, 2017, 7:53 a.m.(10/22/1005 AR)
He's pleasant to talk to and I hope I provided some degree of entertainment.
Not sure what about me reminds him of a duck, though.
Not sure what about me reminds him of a duck, though.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.