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Written By Alessia

Jan. 16, 2020, 10:25 a.m.(7/27/1012 AR)

A reminder for any who may feel burdened by darker aspects of themselves that they sense but try to suppress. It is through the Thirteenth that these can be brought to the forefront, the only way one can truly conquer their impulses.

Written By Hamish

Jan. 16, 2020, 9:42 a.m.(7/26/1012 AR)

Our Queen of Endings enjoys a joke.

That does not mean she is one.

Written By Talwyn

Jan. 16, 2020, 7:06 a.m.(7/26/1012 AR)

Imitation is the finest form of flattery. Until the idea is stolen and packaged as your own.

Written By Emilia

Jan. 16, 2020, 4:15 a.m.(7/26/1012 AR)

When the Gyre attacked Arx, everyone around me spoke of only one thing: Kill the Gyre.

I agonized over the Gyre's fate, for days and nights, contemplating a different, less violent path. Must all who fall from grace be mercilessly slaughtered? Is there a point when redemption is no longer possible? Is there truly no other way?

Then I had a dream. I dreamed of a dog, feral and angry, dragged away from the children. Mercilessly beaten - for years. Then a handler came, powerful and calm, and fed the dog. The handler cared for the dog. After years of this, the dog relaxed. It listened. It learned. And still, the dog had to be chained, but with the handler present, it was calm.

Then I dreamed of the dog again, but this time, the handler never came. The dog became mad with fury. Whenever someone reached out to it, the dog would bite them. Then the dog had to be put down. Some dogs simply couldn't be reached.

When I woke, I made up my mind about the Gyre. Even though my heart was broken.

Now, it seems, I became the feral dog. I bit the ones who care for me. There are no words that can express how I feel about this. I am ready to pay for what I've done. Come, ruin. Come, wrath.

Written By Sydney

Jan. 15, 2020, 7:18 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

Relationship Note on Petal

I do hope it was a suitably boring birthing.

My most sincere congratulations!

Written By Preston

Jan. 15, 2020, 7:10 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

If people have an issue with a Templar, they will find far more speedy resolution if they actually come to me. The Archlector and I work in close co-operation, as does the Legate, and you will find despite popular rumour, I am actually quite fair. Or so I like to think.

As for the specifics of the recent case, well. The proclamation will be there for any who wish to see it.

Written By Kedehern

Jan. 15, 2020, 6:20 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

Relationship Note on Shae

The Duke calling me 'Uncle Kedehern' still feels odd to me, since I really view him more as a cousin, so I certainly understand your troubles with the sudden gaggle of nieces and nephews our marriage has bestowed you with.

I'm just glad Marquis Kael is your cousin, not a nephew. Having another Head of House calling me 'Uncle' might almost be too much. Though at least the Marquis is my junior, as opposed to Duke Cristoph, who's seven years my senior.

Written By Abellus

Jan. 15, 2020, 5:10 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

I hear that some of the attackers at the Planting managed to flee. They had better run far and hide deep, because there will be no sanctuary for them if I ever find them.

This month. The damned heat, that creepy dream, assholes shooting my kin full of arrows -- I really want to just chop someone in half.

...Yes, Scholar. That's probably enough for today.

Written By Talwyn

Jan. 15, 2020, 3:01 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

A fine day to see a quality cloth from the Oathlands make it to the city and to dress in. The colors that I can get to shine through the new velvet cloth will be beautiful, and without all the pattern.

Versatility and a fine cloth.

Written By Selene

Jan. 15, 2020, 2:56 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

How the error of a moment
is but a grain
beginning the avalanche.

Can we cry foul
Lashing the sea
and halt the tide?

Written By Mabelle

Jan. 15, 2020, 2:36 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

Relationship Note on Petal

Congratulations, Mistress Petal.

Such beautiful name to a child who's mother loves flowers so dearly.
May she bloom and grow beautifully as all that goes under her mother's hands and bring you joy and peace.

Written By Aureth

Jan. 15, 2020, 2:04 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

Emilia Godsworn is fortunate in the mercy of the Templars and the Faith.

Extremely fortunate.

Written By Dianna

Jan. 15, 2020, 1:52 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

Though I attempt to steady myself, I find myself crying as I write this, today.

I have the luxury of writing it, myself, as a Godsworn priestess - which affords me to feel that I am truly writing in my own words, with my own hand, to spill upon this page the exact and precise ink which feels so much like my own blood and tears pouring out here, to any and all who may read it.

Some of my friends and family members - both in the Faith and of the land of my body's birth - know, already, that I have been in preparation for several weeks, readying myself mentally and physically for the exorcism of one Baron Ruthas of Glenbriar, known colloquially as 'The Butcher of Arx,' which Archscholar Sina and I will perform in but a short time hence.

To say that I fear is both dizzyingly inadequate and, simultaneously, incredulously incorrect, when the fact is this:

I do not want to leave you, my beloved friends, my cherished loves, my treasured family - both you who accept and who cannot accept my choices, both family of blood and flesh as well as family of my chosen life.

I do not wish to depart from you, yet - not when I love you so much; not when I have loved you so well, but not yet long enough for my heart's longing for you ALL.

Be you even of those who have wronged me terribly or be you of those who have been and continue to be the springs from whom I am nourished, heart and mind and bodily, who aide in that strength of my soul that is given to the gods: I love you.

Let it be known that I have written a Last Will and Testament within my Black Journals that is to be released, solely, upon my death - be it from this event or any other.

And let it be known forever that I hold no malice in my heart towards any who have wronged me, nor towards any who have wished to. Including Baron Ruthas of Glenbriar, regardless of the outcome.

Should I be returned to the Mother's embrace, be not hateful towards what remains of this member of the Peerage, for how could he but go mad, being severed from his own body? How could he not crave to find another - when he has so mistakenly disbanded from the true nature of his soul in the thought that his desire to be close to the gods, to be loved by them could not be fulfilled, were not being fulfilled ALREADY by his life?

Forgive him, should I be taken from you; and grieve only until it is done.

And, if you must return to finish what I and so many others have started, I beg you not to do so in anger and hatred for him, but in love, in sympathy, in compassion. He is mistaken in his envy - as I have seen others be; as I have known myself to be, even, at times.

We all have our dark reflections within ourselves; let this be proof of what can be when one lets the darkest within ourselves take over - and let it be proof, as well, that the gods CAN AND WILL accept us again, that we may be embraced again, if we but free ourselves to see what we are, to love what we are - both light and dark, without attempting to rule one or the other, but to know and master both - and to simply embrace the truth of all.

We are not perfect. May we never be. Because, even in my anger towards Baron Ruthas of Glenbriar, even in others' anger towards him, I have seen great acts of courage, of faith, of love. I have fought alongside family members beloved dearly by me - both those who return that love to me and those who, for whatever forgivable reasons, withhold it. And I have earned new friendships that I may never have known, had it not been for this wayward soul.

So, may I remind you all of this simple truth:

It is true that love will conquer all.

Written By Drake

Jan. 15, 2020, 1:24 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

A rousing evening at the tavern. I wouldn't have expected it might lead to some useful information about our quest at High Hill, but sometimes these things are serendipitous. What is also lucky is that it seems the Princess Reese would like to paint my portrait! Well, technically, she wants to include my brother in such a portrait but I wonder if I could ask her for a private studio session.

Written By Wrakjon

Jan. 15, 2020, 1:01 p.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

Somewhere in the upper boroughs: The drugs wear off after leading me astray, out of the comfortable gutter and into social elevation. A truly miserable state of affairs that runs contrary to the physics of self-abuse. Usually this sort of thing reliably puts me somewhere downwind, but something in the mix paddled me upstream without a boat.

I shout for chemical assistance and the first man I see slaps me directly in the face. That much, at least, is comfortably familiar, and helps me get my bearings. I am in a poor excuse for a bar, the floor is cleanly cold instead of comfortably insulated with blood and vomit. How do people LIVE like this?

The man who slapped me is Richard Wyrmguard. Holy shit! One of the Valardin! Now those are people who know how to handle this world, they take no guff from the mercantile cuckolds who tell honest citizens like me to stay out of their elitist stores because they don't want their precious ill-gotten goods touched by a salt-of-the-earth individual such as myself.

Richard gives me a drink and a sniff of something that unfortunately clears my head. I explain to him that I am a man of medicine. I try to make my way back to the Murder of Crows but my legs are evil betrayers. Richard gives me another drink and some soup while I'm on the floor, he knows the trials and travails of dealing with traitorous limbs, he is my sword and shield against the vicissitudes of earthly matters and a lack of proper medication.

There are others in the room but I pay them no mind. This is a meeting of men of science. I explain my theories. He is suitably impressed. He is now taking me in for a medical consultation. I'm sure he'll understand the needs of alternative homeonaturopsychopathic medicine, and how it sometimes involves medical cadavers and/or medically-induced cadavers.

Written By Amari

Jan. 15, 2020, 11:28 a.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

That was not what I expected from a planting at the Lodge. I had my technique from an old treatise I'd found in the Archives that described in great, and exacting detail the proper way to sow beets for a good harvest, and I was doing quite well I thought. Everything was precise in my row, until I noticed Marigold was blithely tramping on everything behind me, and then we were all attacked by shav.

They meant to enslave us, I heard, which seems very bold given how close we were to Arx. Although there were some very commendable attempts at diplomacy, things took a violent turn. I hope everyone recovers from their injuries.

Written By Strozza

Jan. 15, 2020, 10:58 a.m.(7/25/1012 AR)

My kitten walks on velvet feet
And makes no sound at all;
And in the doorway nightly sits
To watch the darkness fall
I think he loves the Lady, Night
And feels akin to her
Whose footsteps are as still as his,
Whose touch as soft as fur

(OOC: poem by Lois Weakley McKay)

Written By Thomas

Jan. 15, 2020, 9:09 a.m.(7/24/1012 AR)

It was my extreme pleasure to return to Brassfall March and oversee the training of new recruits brought into our armies by our Marquessa's compassionate reforms and initiatives; when it is clear that a leader deeply cares for those who fight for her, the passion and zeal they return in her service speaks for itself.

It is also impossible to overstate the importance of the help she was given in the tireless work of Mistress Kamaria, who made sure the word of what we promised to those who fight for us spread across the Compact, and also the help of Master Mortimer, who burned many a candle at both ends to ensure the chaos of vows, supplies and logistics all came together as if we were all of one mind.

I am so proud to work beside and serve such powerful souls.

Light, Knowledge, Victory.

Written By Delilah

Jan. 15, 2020, 8:53 a.m.(7/24/1012 AR)

The mind, and our thoughts, determine our journey. What you think, you shall become.

Written By Petal

Jan. 15, 2020, 2:15 a.m.(7/24/1012 AR)

Cillian and myself have just had a daughter

Cala Lily Weatherwood.

She is named Cala Lily for my past patron the Archduchess Eleyna and also for the many lilies growing at the lodge. We are thankful to Marquis Reigna who helped to care for me during the pregnancy and who was my doctor during the birth. We are doing well - Cala Lily, Cillian and myself.


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