Written By Halsim
Jan. 4, 2017, 8:12 a.m.(7/25/1005 AR)
In this world of secrets and manipulation, people like to forget that we still have our minds and our will.
Regardless of anything else that comes our way, you can be certain that there is hope as long as there is a will to keep going, despite the conflict.
Regardless of anything else that comes our way, you can be certain that there is hope as long as there is a will to keep going, despite the conflict.
Written By Natalia
Jan. 4, 2017, 5:35 a.m.(7/25/1005 AR)
Just when I think my spirit can suffer no more darkness, I find a ray of hope. A light in the darkness from a simple, kind smile that gives me hope I am not alone.
Perhaps he will like Nightfall once it has been completed. I wanted a work of art that is worthy of all he represents to me; light in the darkness.
Perhaps he will like Nightfall once it has been completed. I wanted a work of art that is worthy of all he represents to me; light in the darkness.
Written By Kima
Jan. 4, 2017, 2:35 a.m.(7/24/1005 AR)
Do you ever hear a thing so stupid you hope it gets enacted just so the parties involve have to suffer the consequences of their idiocy?
Written By Nadia
Jan. 4, 2017, 12:53 a.m.(7/24/1005 AR)
Uncle Brogan has done it, again. I blame Sigurd for this.
Written By Serafine
Jan. 3, 2017, 11:51 p.m.(7/24/1005 AR)
the warrior broken sought the wind
wandered paths she knew by heart
carried onward past the fields
slaughtered sovereigns, blown apart
it was the sea she found to be
the call of something dark, deep
it took the babes she wept upon
offered the warrior a place to sleep
she pried her armor from her skin
and threw her blades aside
striding over sand and surf
she surrendered all her pride
but 'fore the waves could embrace
the grieving warrior-mother
a song blew past and pulled along
a melody like no other.
clad in only sky she ran
across the ragged rocks
following a shadowed bird
warrior now a nimble fox
lilting song trailed through the air
like many-ribbons pulled tight
and drug the mother-warrior on
a lasso made of razor light
through the woods past man and beast
a meadow cleared away
and on her knees she fell bleeding
her feet raw and flayed
but oh the song, the magpie sang
it was the same for miles
this bird it perched upon a branch
and coaxed the woman's smile
"You've left behind all you lost,"
the magpie trilled to she,
"unstopped by pain or wounds,
"and your only star was me."
"pretty bird," the woman said,
"your song 'twas pulled me away
"from the brink of ever-sleep,
"how do you have this sway?'
"I collect pretty things,"
"I gather all that I find,
"you, your heart, is pretty too,
"and I'd like to make you mine."
the magpie brought her through the pain
the wounds of loss and grief
and took her off beyond its pale
to the peace of green relief
she won her over, the magpie did
and to this day it's clear to see
at night in summer's highest slumber
the magpie watches over the sea
and just above her edged in green
a warrior clad in only sky
is held aloft on sable wings
her chin and eyes angled high.
wandered paths she knew by heart
carried onward past the fields
slaughtered sovereigns, blown apart
it was the sea she found to be
the call of something dark, deep
it took the babes she wept upon
offered the warrior a place to sleep
she pried her armor from her skin
and threw her blades aside
striding over sand and surf
she surrendered all her pride
but 'fore the waves could embrace
the grieving warrior-mother
a song blew past and pulled along
a melody like no other.
clad in only sky she ran
across the ragged rocks
following a shadowed bird
warrior now a nimble fox
lilting song trailed through the air
like many-ribbons pulled tight
and drug the mother-warrior on
a lasso made of razor light
through the woods past man and beast
a meadow cleared away
and on her knees she fell bleeding
her feet raw and flayed
but oh the song, the magpie sang
it was the same for miles
this bird it perched upon a branch
and coaxed the woman's smile
"You've left behind all you lost,"
the magpie trilled to she,
"unstopped by pain or wounds,
"and your only star was me."
"pretty bird," the woman said,
"your song 'twas pulled me away
"from the brink of ever-sleep,
"how do you have this sway?'
"I collect pretty things,"
"I gather all that I find,
"you, your heart, is pretty too,
"and I'd like to make you mine."
the magpie brought her through the pain
the wounds of loss and grief
and took her off beyond its pale
to the peace of green relief
she won her over, the magpie did
and to this day it's clear to see
at night in summer's highest slumber
the magpie watches over the sea
and just above her edged in green
a warrior clad in only sky
is held aloft on sable wings
her chin and eyes angled high.
Written By Serafine
Jan. 3, 2017, 11:48 p.m.(7/24/1005 AR)
[incoherent doodles of tall pale beings and smaller, shambling, hunched figures]
Written By Bethany
Jan. 3, 2017, 11:47 p.m.(7/24/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Branan
crow lanes
sketched out -
charcoal like black wings.
accent games and wordplay.
sketched out -
charcoal like black wings.
accent games and wordplay.
Written By Bethany
Jan. 3, 2017, 11:07 p.m.(7/24/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Damon
at the center of candlelit green -
silver snow and scales.
one step forward, two back.
silver snow and scales.
one step forward, two back.
Written By Orazio
Jan. 3, 2017, 10:21 p.m.(7/24/1005 AR)
To the Faithful Reader:
Measure twice. Cut once. For once a cut is made, it can never be mended.
Measure twice. Cut once. For once a cut is made, it can never be mended.
Written By Bethany
Jan. 3, 2017, 9:18 p.m.(7/24/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Waldemai
Ouch.
(That was so much fun.)
(That was so much fun.)
Written By Joscelin
Jan. 3, 2017, 7:47 p.m.(7/24/1005 AR)
Taga got away from me the other day, chasing a shadow or something down Merchant's Way. When I found her, she was being applauded by a gardener.
She'd caught a snake, he said. And she was eating it.
When she was given to me, I was told her nickname as a pup was 'Mongoose'.
I've decided to change it back to that.
Mongoose the deerhound.
She'd caught a snake, he said. And she was eating it.
When she was given to me, I was told her nickname as a pup was 'Mongoose'.
I've decided to change it back to that.
Mongoose the deerhound.
Written By Damon
Jan. 3, 2017, 5:13 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
I've started this particular journal about four times now. I seem to be having trouble finding the right words to express my incomprehensible frustration and frankly I'm just fed up.
But I refuse to go into detail the source of my supreme irritation. As it will only give that source more power over me.
That being said, the desire that seems to be sweeping across Arx to seek out truth, knowledge, and fact is pleasing to me. It's something I've dedicated myself to, and to see others that I respect and care for doing the same? There are few better feelings.
But I refuse to go into detail the source of my supreme irritation. As it will only give that source more power over me.
That being said, the desire that seems to be sweeping across Arx to seek out truth, knowledge, and fact is pleasing to me. It's something I've dedicated myself to, and to see others that I respect and care for doing the same? There are few better feelings.
Written By Bethany
Jan. 3, 2017, 3:51 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Jeremiah
confidant,
the past shared.
we won't put them behind us.
the future is potential.
made of silver, of gold
we are the gifts within it.
ready?
the past shared.
we won't put them behind us.
the future is potential.
made of silver, of gold
we are the gifts within it.
ready?
Written By Abbas
Jan. 3, 2017, 3:34 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
A vision came to me last night. I feel like it is time.
http://laughingsquid.com/wp-content/uploads/kraken-viking-ship.jpg
http://laughingsquid.com/wp-content/uploads/kraken-viking-ship.jpg
Written By Bethany
Jan. 3, 2017, 3:33 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Sigurd
despite stony eyes,
and silvered tongue,
and golden looks -
there is a wolf
in his heart.
and silvered tongue,
and golden looks -
there is a wolf
in his heart.
Written By Valery
Jan. 3, 2017, 3:29 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
So many things happened in the last days that I didn't even think on writing anything down.
I've met a lot of people, some new, some old, some meetings sweet, some confusing or worrying.
But the city is too big and so full of wonders...
Among other things... I've visited the menagerie, fortunately, before the animals broke out. I have a new plant to take care of and observe. And I got the most beautiful present, taken from a dream...
I've met a lot of people, some new, some old, some meetings sweet, some confusing or worrying.
But the city is too big and so full of wonders...
Among other things... I've visited the menagerie, fortunately, before the animals broke out. I have a new plant to take care of and observe. And I got the most beautiful present, taken from a dream...
Written By Bianca
Jan. 3, 2017, 3:15 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
I don't know why I expected my second trial to be more difficult than the first. I suppose my mind hadn't wrapped around the full breadth of my task. Again the analytical superseded the emotional.
Remaining in company of the Silent Reflections could be best described as tragic and while I prefer tragedy in fiction, when faced with it in reality... it is overwhelming.
There was one man in particular that played at my heart strings. For the most part my presence has gone ignored beyond from time to time aiding someone with a drink or food, but there was one man in particular. I don't even know his name, he can not tell me. After much miscommunication I finally figured out that all he wanted was to read my book with me. It was such a small and simple thing that I take for granted daily.
This is what the Archscholar meant when he said he wanted me to understand the breadth of betrayal, I believe. Still, though I know they committed an atrocity in breaking their oath I can't help but feel compassion.
Only a few days left.
Remaining in company of the Silent Reflections could be best described as tragic and while I prefer tragedy in fiction, when faced with it in reality... it is overwhelming.
There was one man in particular that played at my heart strings. For the most part my presence has gone ignored beyond from time to time aiding someone with a drink or food, but there was one man in particular. I don't even know his name, he can not tell me. After much miscommunication I finally figured out that all he wanted was to read my book with me. It was such a small and simple thing that I take for granted daily.
This is what the Archscholar meant when he said he wanted me to understand the breadth of betrayal, I believe. Still, though I know they committed an atrocity in breaking their oath I can't help but feel compassion.
Only a few days left.
Written By Leta
Jan. 3, 2017, 2:28 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
Here I am with nothing to do but write and think about things, so I'll write down my thoughts. I tried my hand at poetry but that didn't go too well and I'm not putting any poetry here on account of last time.
If you ask me, I'd rather be fighting a proper battle, mess and all, over the things they have in the woods. I don't mean Shavs, though I don't care to fight them either, but these other white things will give you the chills to look at. They're tall, but strong arms and good steel will cut through them same as any. But seeing as they're unnatural, you get a scratch from one and they lock you up in the House of Solace. There's worse places to be locked in. The Mercies are kind and they do fine work.
I think there are other people better at telling the story of what happened, so I'll leave that up to them. I expect I'll be getting well paid for it, one way or another, and there's worse jobs.
But it makes a woman think about what other kinds of unnatural things there are out there. They say a wizard can cast a spell on you from afar if you look in a mirror or they got a lock of your hair, and they can turn into all kinds of critters or become transparent like air, in the stories, not that I believe that. Stories get taller in the telling, as they say. But if there are such wizards, that would make them hard to kill unless you catch them sleeping. Myself, I've turned down work that called for butchering folk in their beds because that's murder and not soldiering, but I think I might do just that for a wizard or a witch.
That's all the thoughts I have for now. I'm feeling fine and I think they'll let me go soon enough as I have no signs of fever or turning into something unnatural.
Written By Anze
Jan. 3, 2017, 1:05 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
Know what really helps work on your footwork? Not wearing armor while sparring. Focusing totally on avoiding hits and not having armor there to catch your mistakes is a good way to learn.
Know what sucks? Getting hit without armor on. Spirits I guess we wear that shit for a reason.
Know what sucks? Getting hit without armor on. Spirits I guess we wear that shit for a reason.
Written By Sigurd
Jan. 3, 2017, 12:32 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
Well, that was a viciously exhausting day. Two rounds, and I am left beaten and bruised, with my stamina at its end.
As I lay in my suite trying to recover with the aid of a kind soul, I received a missive. It read simply
"If it makes you feel better, you lasted much, much, much longer than Anze."
I am uncertain how to feel about this, but I think the questions can wait until I can move properly again.
As I lay in my suite trying to recover with the aid of a kind soul, I received a missive. It read simply
"If it makes you feel better, you lasted much, much, much longer than Anze."
I am uncertain how to feel about this, but I think the questions can wait until I can move properly again.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.