Written By Aelgar
Dec. 10, 2023, 10:53 a.m.(5/6/1021 AR)
Not much time for personal pursuits lately as the city is busy with frequent threats of war and the countryside rife with criminal behavior. I am sure it is not as bad as it seems from the news, but there is always something to do. Poor Griz has not been out to the forest to stretch his legs in weeks.
Written By Ferrando
Dec. 10, 2023, 1 a.m.(5/5/1021 AR)
My daughter's going to be old enough to write her own journals soon. That's definitely something that doesn't alarm me in the slightest!
Written By Medeia
Dec. 9, 2023, 3:39 p.m.(5/5/1021 AR)
Once upon a time, there was a spider. She was a promising young lady of a humble house within the spider kingdom, and she possessed natural talents and fine training that made her a desirable match. Other kingdoms took notice of her, and she soon found herself gaining the attention of lords from the bee and moth kingdoms, in addition to some fellow spiders. This lady spider had a gentle heart, but violent tragedy soon would come and twist her kindness into an ache for vengeance.
Before that tragedy, however, another had noticed the spider. A member of the silverfish kingdom saw the spider's potential and conspired to claim her. The silverfish lauded the spider and introduced the spider to a fearsome silverfish lord in need of a wife. And so the young spider, finding the silverfish novel and exciting, followed the path laid before her.
When tragedy intervened, many thought the spider would lose her affinity for the silverfish, but oh, how the silverfish fanned the flames of the fire within her that wanted to spread and burn those responsible for the tragedy. And the spider? She was unprepared for how that fire would consume her. It danced with a power she couldn't control, leaping out to singe people she cared about and rendering ash in her wake.
The spider and the silverfish were wed. And still the spider walked the path laid by the conspirator, who now mocked and belittled and undermined her with the aid of other silverfish. The spider further twisted, bending and bending so that she wouldn't break, trying desperately to keep her goodness shining through the cracks. But still? That fire raged.
She continued to hurt others, seeking targets for the flames. She'd spun her web and seared out parts of it, claiming they weren't good enough, patching them over in the hope that all the other kingdoms would see it and know how good she was. And she was good. And she was hurt. And she felt as if she were being torn apart as each day passed, as if there would come a day when all that was left of her was an empty heart and a shriveled up husk, all her legs curled in to finally show how warped she had become on the inside.
It came to pass that those responsible for the tragedy that twisted the spider found themselves on the losing side. The fire within began to subside, and as it did, the spider saw the damage it had caused. She fled the silverfish kingdom. Upon her return to the spider kingdom, she found herself with a sundered web and a candle flame. But she was, after all, a spider. The web could be fixed. The fire could be brought to heel. Slowly, the bends unbent and the twists untwisted, and she placed her goodness and her fire side-by-side so they could illuminate the path she chose for herself.
Before that tragedy, however, another had noticed the spider. A member of the silverfish kingdom saw the spider's potential and conspired to claim her. The silverfish lauded the spider and introduced the spider to a fearsome silverfish lord in need of a wife. And so the young spider, finding the silverfish novel and exciting, followed the path laid before her.
When tragedy intervened, many thought the spider would lose her affinity for the silverfish, but oh, how the silverfish fanned the flames of the fire within her that wanted to spread and burn those responsible for the tragedy. And the spider? She was unprepared for how that fire would consume her. It danced with a power she couldn't control, leaping out to singe people she cared about and rendering ash in her wake.
The spider and the silverfish were wed. And still the spider walked the path laid by the conspirator, who now mocked and belittled and undermined her with the aid of other silverfish. The spider further twisted, bending and bending so that she wouldn't break, trying desperately to keep her goodness shining through the cracks. But still? That fire raged.
She continued to hurt others, seeking targets for the flames. She'd spun her web and seared out parts of it, claiming they weren't good enough, patching them over in the hope that all the other kingdoms would see it and know how good she was. And she was good. And she was hurt. And she felt as if she were being torn apart as each day passed, as if there would come a day when all that was left of her was an empty heart and a shriveled up husk, all her legs curled in to finally show how warped she had become on the inside.
It came to pass that those responsible for the tragedy that twisted the spider found themselves on the losing side. The fire within began to subside, and as it did, the spider saw the damage it had caused. She fled the silverfish kingdom. Upon her return to the spider kingdom, she found herself with a sundered web and a candle flame. But she was, after all, a spider. The web could be fixed. The fire could be brought to heel. Slowly, the bends unbent and the twists untwisted, and she placed her goodness and her fire side-by-side so they could illuminate the path she chose for herself.
Written By Jaenelle
Dec. 8, 2023, 4:27 p.m.(5/3/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Leona
Leona,
Let it not be said that the siblings I choose do not have wonderful qualities befitting the siblings I was born with. Lord Cillian gave his life valiantly to save others. Countless others due to his bravery. I don't believe you've ever met your replacement, but I am certain without a trace of doubt that you would be just as proud as I am to have known the man and his sacrifice. I will now miss both of you for however long it is till we meet once more.
Though my children are too old for such, I have kept the baby blanket that you made for Vittore when he was born with all the fantastical creatures on it. It inspired me a very long time ago to see if we could craft our version of spidersilk. It was quite successful, though it was never meant to end with simple cloth. While it is nothing like your own work, lacking the beautiful vinework that accompanies anything you've woven, I did manage to use spidersilk to make sails with. It was the Nox'alfar sails that I saw all those years ago that started the itch, and the goal was finally completed not too long ago. Each Ducal house was gifted the sails to fit on the caravel the fealty worked towards getting each house years ago. I hope these ships open doors that were closed before, and I hope the Lyceum benefits from the faster sailing vessels. It was exhausting, and when we see one another perhaps you can give me a few tricks.
I suppose you of all people would not be surprised at the state of the world. You always knew the horrors that were coming. You faced your own at another time, again and again without hesitation. I wish I were more like you sometimes, with your headstrong determination and unwavering strength in all that is good. It is hard to hold onto that sometimes, the good. I have faith in the people around me. I have trust in those who stand beside me. I know despite my worries and bouts of uncertainty that when the moment comes we will be ready. Sometimes I wish we simply didn't need to be. I don't know if I will be here when you return, and that has to be okay for both of us. We knew that one day I would not and you would have to continue your journey. I think it's better this way, to be honest. My biggest fear is being forgotten. but I know that after I am gone I will always remain in your thoughts and memories so I suppose I can be at peace with this knowledge. One day, much like you showed me a cherished moment of the past, you will show someone else one of ours.
I love you as only your twin could. Be safe, and return to Arx soon.
Jaenelle
Let it not be said that the siblings I choose do not have wonderful qualities befitting the siblings I was born with. Lord Cillian gave his life valiantly to save others. Countless others due to his bravery. I don't believe you've ever met your replacement, but I am certain without a trace of doubt that you would be just as proud as I am to have known the man and his sacrifice. I will now miss both of you for however long it is till we meet once more.
Though my children are too old for such, I have kept the baby blanket that you made for Vittore when he was born with all the fantastical creatures on it. It inspired me a very long time ago to see if we could craft our version of spidersilk. It was quite successful, though it was never meant to end with simple cloth. While it is nothing like your own work, lacking the beautiful vinework that accompanies anything you've woven, I did manage to use spidersilk to make sails with. It was the Nox'alfar sails that I saw all those years ago that started the itch, and the goal was finally completed not too long ago. Each Ducal house was gifted the sails to fit on the caravel the fealty worked towards getting each house years ago. I hope these ships open doors that were closed before, and I hope the Lyceum benefits from the faster sailing vessels. It was exhausting, and when we see one another perhaps you can give me a few tricks.
I suppose you of all people would not be surprised at the state of the world. You always knew the horrors that were coming. You faced your own at another time, again and again without hesitation. I wish I were more like you sometimes, with your headstrong determination and unwavering strength in all that is good. It is hard to hold onto that sometimes, the good. I have faith in the people around me. I have trust in those who stand beside me. I know despite my worries and bouts of uncertainty that when the moment comes we will be ready. Sometimes I wish we simply didn't need to be. I don't know if I will be here when you return, and that has to be okay for both of us. We knew that one day I would not and you would have to continue your journey. I think it's better this way, to be honest. My biggest fear is being forgotten. but I know that after I am gone I will always remain in your thoughts and memories so I suppose I can be at peace with this knowledge. One day, much like you showed me a cherished moment of the past, you will show someone else one of ours.
I love you as only your twin could. Be safe, and return to Arx soon.
Jaenelle
Written By Ann
Dec. 8, 2023, 3:14 p.m.(5/2/1021 AR)
I was reminded the other night I have choices to make. Sometimes, the ability to have a choice makes me freeze and feel overwhelmed. What if I just spin and point and say, "Okay, I will do that." I'd probably still not be satisfied. Ugh.
Written By Skaldia
Dec. 8, 2023, 10:43 a.m.(5/2/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Raven
I'm not very good at insulting people. But I will tell you the stark truth about what I think, if given the opportunity. At least our birds seem to get along.
Written By Skaldia
Dec. 8, 2023, 10:43 a.m.(5/2/1021 AR)
A few thoughts:
I joined the Society of Explorers, and I am already set to head out on my first mission with several other Explorers. I have my hands stuffed deep into the pie now. We'll see if they come out with any useful treasures. I suspect, however, that it's going to be messy.
I admit I am curious about the call for kites from the Nox'alfar Ambassador. What's that about? Regardless, I've found myself preoccupied with making kites. I also put my first leather set up in the shop. We'll see if it sells. It's not very protective, but I think it's pretty. Rarely do we get customers at the Harrowed Grounds. My sister's jewelry and glasswork is lovely too.
I recently attended a meeting of members of the Faith. While I am rather skittish in the city in general, I felt at home among my fellow disciples and the priesthood. I feel that we are all in capable hands.
I had the pleasure of visiting with Baroness Amari Redire. A lovely and kind woman. I think we have many things in common. I hope to see more of her, and share in our love of nature.
It was recently commented to me that my name has a strong semblance to that of a certain First Choice. Please do not make any comparisons. There is no comparison. I am trying to maintain a humble attitude, and bring honor to a name I was given. I am a disciple of Petrichor, who happens to be named Skaldia. I honor the First Choice as well as any other citizen. I was told I must be proud of my family's legacy, being descended from the first of the unchained. Yet, the story is nothing to be proud of.
I joined the Society of Explorers, and I am already set to head out on my first mission with several other Explorers. I have my hands stuffed deep into the pie now. We'll see if they come out with any useful treasures. I suspect, however, that it's going to be messy.
I admit I am curious about the call for kites from the Nox'alfar Ambassador. What's that about? Regardless, I've found myself preoccupied with making kites. I also put my first leather set up in the shop. We'll see if it sells. It's not very protective, but I think it's pretty. Rarely do we get customers at the Harrowed Grounds. My sister's jewelry and glasswork is lovely too.
I recently attended a meeting of members of the Faith. While I am rather skittish in the city in general, I felt at home among my fellow disciples and the priesthood. I feel that we are all in capable hands.
I had the pleasure of visiting with Baroness Amari Redire. A lovely and kind woman. I think we have many things in common. I hope to see more of her, and share in our love of nature.
It was recently commented to me that my name has a strong semblance to that of a certain First Choice. Please do not make any comparisons. There is no comparison. I am trying to maintain a humble attitude, and bring honor to a name I was given. I am a disciple of Petrichor, who happens to be named Skaldia. I honor the First Choice as well as any other citizen. I was told I must be proud of my family's legacy, being descended from the first of the unchained. Yet, the story is nothing to be proud of.
Written By Mabelle
Dec. 8, 2023, 2:56 a.m.(5/1/1021 AR)
Nothing is never enough...
Written By Ferrando
Dec. 8, 2023, 1:27 a.m.(5/1/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Raven
Why should I believe you're going to pay out 75,000 silver when you can't even afford to give away one left boot?
It's suspicious, is what it is.
It's suspicious, is what it is.
Written By Medeia
Dec. 8, 2023, 1:04 a.m.(5/1/1021 AR)
I fully appreciate the gift of being made to realize I was wrong.
No, I'm not being sarcastic.
No, I'm not being sarcastic.
Written By Mattheu
Dec. 7, 2023, 9:56 p.m.(5/1/1021 AR)
Campanilla proved to wish to do nothing but run. And fast. Even in being tempted with a carrot, it was not ginger laced, nor was it held by small children with paint for his mane.
The prize I will have to wait to pass...
The prize I will have to wait to pass...
Written By Ferrando
Dec. 7, 2023, 4:45 p.m.(5/1/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
Not to harp on the subject, but get well soon!
Written By Raven
Dec. 7, 2023, 2:57 p.m.(4/28/1021 AR)
Information should be helpful. Provide direction. Why is it every time I learn something new I somehow feel even MORE at a loss? Knowledge is an illusion and certainty is just proof you don't have the fool picture yet. I need a better word than fuck.
Written By Duarte
Dec. 7, 2023, 12:02 p.m.(4/28/1021 AR)
Journal
The period following Duke Piero's death was marked by treachery and political manuevering. Belladonna's execution of untrustworthy vassals, including the Count of House Adimento, set the stage for a relentless search for the truth. Amidst the chaos, whispers suggested an assassin was behind Piero's demise. Marco Argento was conspicuously absent in Arx during the murder, and his men were seen in the Lower Boroughs conversing with those who consort with shadows.
As the walls were closing in around Marco Argento, he went mad. He burned down the Lighthouse of Nilanza, with his son (Salazar) inside, and fled. Salazar Argento declared his father a traitor and named himself Marquis. Lianne Pravus was installed as the Voice of Nilanza.
And thus began the hunt for Marco Argento, and the backdrop for my budding relationship with Orland Lowborn.
During this hectic time I was assigned to gauge the sentiments of nobles and the upper class regarding the escalating tensions between Nilanza and Setarco. It required a delicate touch and an ear turned to the subtle nuances of courtly intrigue. And this is where Orland's uniqueness began to shine.
I recall a particular soiree where Orland's sharp observation of a noble's furtive glances and tense posture unvieled a hidden assistant whose eavesdropping would otherwise have gone unnoticed. Orland positioned himself in my periphary and a single nod was enough to convey that I needed to change the subject. Shifting instead from inquiry to narrative, I composed some impromptu yarns of misinformation that proved adequate in thwarting an attempt to ascertain the coming intent of House Pravus.
Orland's cynicism and distrust - born of a harsh upbringing - provided a sharp counterpoint to my own approach. At my side, he saw through facades that I might have missed. His instincts were honed on the unforgiving streets of Arx. Indeed, he could gauge a man's trustworthiness from posture alone.
Simultaneously, I had taken it upon myself to teach Orland to read, a skill he quite embraced with a fervor that matched his streetwise acumen. His progress was remarkable and it wasn't long before he became an invaluable messenger, carrying sensitive information with a discretion that belied his years.
Initially, I had thought to mold Orland in the image of a courtier - as I had been. But imparting to him the lessons Belinha had taught me was much akin to teaching a fish to dance.
No. Orland's experiences had shaped him into something different. I shifted instead to nurturing the talents that were uniquely his. His keen observation. His ability to blend into a scene. Orland brought with him an unadorned honesty and a frankness that cut through artifices and duplicity. In him I found an anchor when the tempests of intrigue and conspiracy threatened to sweep me away.
But it wasn't all political intrigue and lessons.
Orland and I bonded not only through our shared work, but through countless conversations that ranged from the pragmatic to the philosophical. His perspective, so different from my own, challenged me in its intuitive simplicity. I like to think that my guidance offered him a steadying influence, but the reverse is the truth of it.
One late evening, Orland and I found solace atop the roof of Pravus Manor. The ward's noise and the distant sound of waves against the docks created a serene backdrop. We sat silently, each immersed in our own thoughts. The silence was our language. And I recognized the rarity of it.
Reflecting on this period presents a narrative challenge - try as I might to tell it in a linear fashion - for it was time where multiple crises converged. The aftershocks of Piero's death rippled through Pravus, spurring a frantic manhut for Marco Argento. Nilanza, along with its vassals, teetered on the brink of chaos. Amidst this, Shreve's ousting added to the tumult as the Inquisition found itself entangled in scandal. Lianne had her demons. I had mine.
But Orland was a simplicity. With him, there was no defining moment. The whole is what it was.
In very little time - very little time - I came to trust Orland as I trust myself, as he trusts me. Our friendship was forged in fire.
Age, circumstance, and his insistence alone makes him my son - as he puts it. But he is not my son. He is a touchstone that reminds me of the values that lay beneath the veneer of nobility and titles. He is a mirror that reflects what I forget and ignore. He is resilience. He is my conscience.
And I was going to need one.
The period following Duke Piero's death was marked by treachery and political manuevering. Belladonna's execution of untrustworthy vassals, including the Count of House Adimento, set the stage for a relentless search for the truth. Amidst the chaos, whispers suggested an assassin was behind Piero's demise. Marco Argento was conspicuously absent in Arx during the murder, and his men were seen in the Lower Boroughs conversing with those who consort with shadows.
As the walls were closing in around Marco Argento, he went mad. He burned down the Lighthouse of Nilanza, with his son (Salazar) inside, and fled. Salazar Argento declared his father a traitor and named himself Marquis. Lianne Pravus was installed as the Voice of Nilanza.
And thus began the hunt for Marco Argento, and the backdrop for my budding relationship with Orland Lowborn.
During this hectic time I was assigned to gauge the sentiments of nobles and the upper class regarding the escalating tensions between Nilanza and Setarco. It required a delicate touch and an ear turned to the subtle nuances of courtly intrigue. And this is where Orland's uniqueness began to shine.
I recall a particular soiree where Orland's sharp observation of a noble's furtive glances and tense posture unvieled a hidden assistant whose eavesdropping would otherwise have gone unnoticed. Orland positioned himself in my periphary and a single nod was enough to convey that I needed to change the subject. Shifting instead from inquiry to narrative, I composed some impromptu yarns of misinformation that proved adequate in thwarting an attempt to ascertain the coming intent of House Pravus.
Orland's cynicism and distrust - born of a harsh upbringing - provided a sharp counterpoint to my own approach. At my side, he saw through facades that I might have missed. His instincts were honed on the unforgiving streets of Arx. Indeed, he could gauge a man's trustworthiness from posture alone.
Simultaneously, I had taken it upon myself to teach Orland to read, a skill he quite embraced with a fervor that matched his streetwise acumen. His progress was remarkable and it wasn't long before he became an invaluable messenger, carrying sensitive information with a discretion that belied his years.
Initially, I had thought to mold Orland in the image of a courtier - as I had been. But imparting to him the lessons Belinha had taught me was much akin to teaching a fish to dance.
No. Orland's experiences had shaped him into something different. I shifted instead to nurturing the talents that were uniquely his. His keen observation. His ability to blend into a scene. Orland brought with him an unadorned honesty and a frankness that cut through artifices and duplicity. In him I found an anchor when the tempests of intrigue and conspiracy threatened to sweep me away.
But it wasn't all political intrigue and lessons.
Orland and I bonded not only through our shared work, but through countless conversations that ranged from the pragmatic to the philosophical. His perspective, so different from my own, challenged me in its intuitive simplicity. I like to think that my guidance offered him a steadying influence, but the reverse is the truth of it.
One late evening, Orland and I found solace atop the roof of Pravus Manor. The ward's noise and the distant sound of waves against the docks created a serene backdrop. We sat silently, each immersed in our own thoughts. The silence was our language. And I recognized the rarity of it.
Reflecting on this period presents a narrative challenge - try as I might to tell it in a linear fashion - for it was time where multiple crises converged. The aftershocks of Piero's death rippled through Pravus, spurring a frantic manhut for Marco Argento. Nilanza, along with its vassals, teetered on the brink of chaos. Amidst this, Shreve's ousting added to the tumult as the Inquisition found itself entangled in scandal. Lianne had her demons. I had mine.
But Orland was a simplicity. With him, there was no defining moment. The whole is what it was.
In very little time - very little time - I came to trust Orland as I trust myself, as he trusts me. Our friendship was forged in fire.
Age, circumstance, and his insistence alone makes him my son - as he puts it. But he is not my son. He is a touchstone that reminds me of the values that lay beneath the veneer of nobility and titles. He is a mirror that reflects what I forget and ignore. He is resilience. He is my conscience.
And I was going to need one.
Written By Medeia
Dec. 7, 2023, 10:46 a.m.(4/28/1021 AR)
I dreamt of that field, standing in it with her, hand in hand. It was serene and beautiful. Every single flower was a flame. Like a candle, waving gently in the breeze. They flickered and bloomed but never grew beyond our control. When I turned to look at her, to exclaim over all we had done, to celebrate how we had done our best and protected those who would come after us, we were one again. And the flames were flowers again.
Written By Lys
Dec. 7, 2023, 4:24 a.m.(4/28/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Malcolm
This puppy his lordship gave me talks back to me. I told her not to change the cat, she turned around and barked at me. I told her not to tug on the curtains. She barked at me. I told her not to bark at the birds outside the window. She barked at me. I'd be aggravated if her little barks weren't so adorable. I'm going to have to get someone to train her for me, however, because I'm afraid she's just to precious and I'm going to spoil her.
Written By Lys
Dec. 7, 2023, 4:22 a.m.(4/28/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Duarte
I know not exactly what or who the Count writes of, but a line in his recent journal struck me as interesting:
"It still surprises me from time to time how much a smile can hide." - Count Duarte Amadeo.
What surprises me about a smile is how many people trust them. How just a gentle laugh and a well curled smile will put people at ease. Do people not realize that a smile is a lie? That it is a mask behind which we all hide? Sure some people smile when they are happy, laugh when they are amused. But how many of us force it? How many of us flash our smiles to show we are not a threat? That we are not offended? That it is all just a joke. That everything is fine?
We smile when we are uncomfortable to avoid further awkwardness. We smile when we are upset to avoid conflict. We smile to make someone think we are friendly to avoid a fight. We smile to lie. Day in and day out. Sometimes the smile is a lie to ourselves. Because if we don't force a smile everything will collapse down upon us.
I'm smiling just now writing this, because it's all just a joke. Everything is fine.
Imagine my laughter accompanying this journal.
Ha. Ha. Ha.
"It still surprises me from time to time how much a smile can hide." - Count Duarte Amadeo.
What surprises me about a smile is how many people trust them. How just a gentle laugh and a well curled smile will put people at ease. Do people not realize that a smile is a lie? That it is a mask behind which we all hide? Sure some people smile when they are happy, laugh when they are amused. But how many of us force it? How many of us flash our smiles to show we are not a threat? That we are not offended? That it is all just a joke. That everything is fine?
We smile when we are uncomfortable to avoid further awkwardness. We smile when we are upset to avoid conflict. We smile to make someone think we are friendly to avoid a fight. We smile to lie. Day in and day out. Sometimes the smile is a lie to ourselves. Because if we don't force a smile everything will collapse down upon us.
I'm smiling just now writing this, because it's all just a joke. Everything is fine.
Imagine my laughter accompanying this journal.
Ha. Ha. Ha.
Written By Giada
Dec. 6, 2023, 11:49 p.m.(4/27/1021 AR)
"Undying loyalty" are not words to throw around lightly. Sometimes I wonder if people are just hoping for an army of the undead.
Written By Raven
Dec. 6, 2023, 9:34 p.m.(4/27/1021 AR)
Feel like I've reached a dead end but I can't give up. I can only pray the others are having better luck than I am.
Written By Denica
Dec. 6, 2023, 7:30 p.m.(4/27/1021 AR)
I wonder what will happen if...
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.