Written By Desiree
May 30, 2021, 5:23 p.m.(7/25/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Dominique
The little boy is all starting to grow up with a little personality in him. I'm going to be the fun aunt though. Sorry Dominique.
Written By Desiree
May 30, 2021, 5:21 p.m.(7/25/1015 AR)
Oops!
Written By Khanne
May 30, 2021, 4:27 p.m.(7/25/1015 AR)
Yep... I think that adequately explains things for me right about now.
Written By Orland
May 30, 2021, 3:08 p.m.(7/25/1015 AR)
When Apprentice Aconite Whisper asked for performers, at once I put my name in with Savio's, not quite knowing what would be expected or asked of us. I'm glad we did the festival, getting up on stage again, filled me with a different sort of rush than one gets when ... well, it's different. I was nervous but I was also confident that beside Savio and with friends there, such as Cesare, Zakhar (although something was off with him), and Cassiopeia, it'd go fine. This was my second time singing in front of a crowd. It does get easier, singing.
The fans liked me so much I had to perform in tents, mobbed into doing other little requests by the dozen! The second night I didn't bring the lute, so there was some disappointment, until they saw the juggling acts and card tricks. The knives set on fire and juggled, probably my best feature of the night, despite there being a small crowd to see it.
I feel like I would only perform with others on a large stage though.
Written By Kiera
May 30, 2021, 2:31 p.m.(7/25/1015 AR)
Written By Valencia
May 30, 2021, 1:53 p.m.(7/25/1015 AR)
It was a beautiful ceremony. Many good men and women solemnly remembered and the contributions of many brave souls who stood to defend our Compact so very rightfully acknowledged. The art to commemorate the events, as to be expected, was excellent and a worthy memorial to the valour, strength and unity shown.
All in all, I think it was a memorable night. I’m glad I said yes.
~~~~~~~<~<~<@
Written By Medeia
May 30, 2021, 1:51 p.m.(7/25/1015 AR)
It was a surprise when I was brought to the city. And marriage was not something I wanted, no thank you. And then a request was made. Which I initially said no to. Which I tried to sabotage in at least three different ways after agreeing to consider it. I was advised by several people not to accept this alliance - that I was too young, that I would be kept from achieving my goals because I am a woman, that I would be the target of hateful people. I was even accused of settling! In a way, that accusation may not be entirely wrong. Our words do have a way of coming back to bite us, after all. Imagine the arrogance of declaring you wouldn't marry unless the betrothed loved you! We all have our moments of absurdity
I love my people. The people of Saikland Greens, and the people of Eswynd Rock. The alliance between Saik and Eswynd has been good for both houses, and I have been able to show my love to both by being that bridge connecting the two. I have continued my service to Saik as Minister of the Hearth, leading our vintners and distillers in producing wines and spirits. My husband helped bring more land under Saik control and has advised the sailors of the Saikland navy on new tactics to improve their skills. I have assisted in building relationships for Eswynd and bringing a new vassal into our fold. That love, mine poured out into the world, sustains me. Doing all I can for them - my duty as a noble of the Compact.
Reflecting on how I have met the expectations had of me as a girl feels strange. I have married, I have had children, and I have been sent off to some far-flung place from home. Yet, the dreams I gave up for myself in doing so are not ones I feel especially mournful for. And having a husband that I trust, whose strengths complement my own, has made it all the easier to settle into those expectations with pride.
Marriage. It's been worth all the challenges.
Written By Patrizio
May 30, 2021, 1:13 p.m.(7/25/1015 AR)
But that is a matter for another time.
In the meantime... I find myself getting accustomed, and as quickly as possible, to this new role to which I'm called as Voice to my house. As with when I was elevated to general - may I be gifted by the gods to serve my House and my Compact, and may we all move forward into an era of peace.
Written By Valencia
May 30, 2021, 12:52 p.m.(7/25/1015 AR)
Perhaps it is the respite from the heavy heat of the city. Or the rich scents of sun-warmed earth, leather tack, and the cool, fresh forest green.
Conversation and laughter can sometimes come easier there. Opening hearts and easing minds in the open air.
I adore it. I hope for more of it.
~~~~~~~<~<~<@
Written By Auda
May 30, 2021, 10:54 a.m.(7/24/1015 AR)
Quartz and Mica are the cutest kittens.
Written By Lisebet
May 30, 2021, 10:09 a.m.(7/24/1015 AR)
When she's actually old enough to consider drinking tea.
Written By Thea
May 30, 2021, 9:53 a.m.(7/24/1015 AR)
Written By Thea
May 30, 2021, 9:44 a.m.(7/24/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Aconite
Now to get working on that gift.
Written By Rosalind
May 30, 2021, 9:40 a.m.(7/24/1015 AR)
Written By Rosalind
May 30, 2021, 9:38 a.m.(7/24/1015 AR)
Written By Thea
May 30, 2021, 9:33 a.m.(7/24/1015 AR)
Congratulations to everyone that participated! It was quite workout!
Written By Gael
May 30, 2021, 9:01 a.m.(7/24/1015 AR)
I decided I'd be checking the roof on Raja's shop. That I'd give it a good sweep, I don't know, change cracked tiles and pitch some wood glue into any loose squares across their tiers, but that was a mistake. Rather than say why or make comment on the reasons behind it, it is fair that I preface a bit on how I ended up on her roof, to begin with. Why, well, the night prior as I tried to catch some rest, I could hear the incessant and insidious sound of tiny, diminutive footsteps. Small, sure, but hundreds of them. Rats, I asked myself? Was it rats? Mice? Maybe, I don't know, but the whole night of failed sleep the question hung heavy on my head as I tried to consolidate it again and again, but failed. The morning's eventual arrival became no more than mockery at my expense, as light inevitably filtered in through the stained glass of my window.
Finally, I told myself this wouldn't stand. I'd fix this.
Soon as I ended my daily affairs and made it back to the Lowers in the night of that same day, I arrived prepared to deal with the horrible bushwackers. From the corner store I purchased a sort of prepared kibble meant to lure out the supposed rodents, so that I could then scare and scatter them off into the docks by, like a maniac, waving a torch at them until it worked. If successful then, I'd plug all outside holes and climbables to prevent any further incursions on the roof from the outside. That was the plan. It did not go according to plan.
That night, as I climb up to the roof, I see white limply threads of something twisting in the wind right at its summit. Thinking back, it looked like smoke then, but the building was untouched. Nothing was burning. As I neared the highest and steepest point of the roof, Scholar, by my troth; pairs upon pairs of red eyes flared in the dark beneath each roof tile that like hedges housed them, peering out from inside them. Spiders. And they all scuttled forth in their spiny legs, clattering on the slats of wood and scratching the corrugated tiles, their mass of black bodies fluttering out their hidey-holes like the flakes of smoldered dandelions.
I freaked, swerved around in a panic, and ended up getting tangled in a wild array of white strands that locked my legs and sent me barreling down across the roof once my knees inevitably gave. On my catastrophic way down, I eventually bounced off of some rutty protrusion that I believe was the chimney heading, and it ended up propelling me past the awning, onto the unmortared floor of the porch. Hard. On my back, or my side? I don't know, I don't remember. It hurt a lot.
I'm not going back to that roof. It's theirs now.
Written By Aconite
May 29, 2021, 11:43 p.m.(7/24/1015 AR)
The opening dance set the tone for the drama and flair, and unexpected intimacy of the Rythm of the World Festival that Whisper house graciously gave me hosting privileges. Each performance giving a glimpse into new worlds and the people who have shaped them. From the moving songs of Tremorous sung by Lord Savio and Lord Orland and the bone-deep performance of Cesare Whisper, Nina Autnumndals fabulous music encouraging moving and dance and even a performance from Legend Gianna. These are some notable mentions but almost every performance gave those enrapt throngs of people a story to tell and hopefully curiosity sparked into broadening their horizons.
There were so many new dresses and mesmerizing fashion rooted in tradition and dripping in inspiration. I regret I only had time to see it in passing, I would have dearly loved to hang on to the words of Bard Autumndale, Duchess Isabeau, and taken the time to really absorb Savio's flowing outfit. I may have already plied Princess Graziella for the pattern for her beautiful dress. But I am remiss, I am leaving out many more names that deserve mentioning.
But let me make special note of Caprice, who I think could ply even the hardest hearts with a few drapes of silk. Master Zakhar who not only made the crowns and scarves but also this honey silk outfit that I'm determined to live the rest of my life in. And my own brother Orick, who created drums and this delicious scent that reminds me so much of home.
Even in the tragedies, they came together, I cannot wait to see Vashtalyn truly perform. Without Sir Merek and Lady Eswynd, I foresee things would have gone very differently. They may have well saved our little festival.
I cannot claim even a margin of the credit that is due here but it was my pleasure to work with the blessed of Jayus in the Festival and the Auction which has raised a considerable sum that will be distributed happily amidst charities.
I shall float rather than sail back to Tor this week. Thankful for the great generosity of those that have given of themselves to shine light into the lives of others.
Finally, can I say to see people from Royalty to Commoner in the same space, humbled before the gifts of Jayus, is a truly religious experience.
Written By Maren
May 29, 2021, 10:22 p.m.(7/23/1015 AR)
I remember the first days of remembrance on a shore that felt wrong, smelled wrong, even the light of the awakening stars was all in the wrong placements. I am no longer ashamed to admit that the gusts of salt wind dried tears of fear and grief and loneliness on my cheeks as I sent light and boats for my brothers, knowing that I could not send letters. Would not see the familiar and distinct script of each of their hand in return. At first they were sent out of longing. As years went on, apology for dishonoring tradition. As more years went on, they were a bridge, a hope to instill some feeling of kinship and interest and connection in my daughter for a place and people that it seemed impossible she would ever meet.
Now my feet rest on familiar sands, though it is my body that feels wrong, grown older and weaker where the feet that once delighted in walking the water's edge were young and strong. It seems strange that I survive, without the ones I missed so much, as lost to me here as they were in Weijin. Sometimes our journeys mark us in a way that will not allow our full return, even if we never truly arrived at the first destination. And I must accept that it is not just me that wanders this in-between place, but I have my greatest treasure travelling her own roads within it, in a very different experience than mine.
Tonight, on this familiar and strange sand, with my present and memory veiling the sea calling to me, and the most beloved of cities behind me, I will send another little boat and light of remembrance to someone lost to me forever, across the waters. On this day of your birth, Beloved, how I yearn for just one more time to be greeted with your smile and your caress as the sun rises. But I also am buoyed by knowing of the lives we helped to shape and all the fledglings we nudged to take flight. Our joy in taking from the fires of our passion and our determination a spark that may grow into just what the greater world will need someday, if that is where her path will lead her. I think every day of the gift of being able to at least touch the lives of my nephews, nieces, and their children, knowing that you had a hand in it as well. Selfishly I wish that you were here to meet them as well; but I understand it was not your path. I believe the mark of greatest love to be the ability to take strength in the time that you hold it in your grasp, and to not dishonor it with the inability to keep moving forward along one's path once like all things in this life, it is reclaimed. Set free.
But still, Beloved. I cannot promise that there will be no need for the soft hand of the summer sea's wind to brush away tears. Of joy, for the very ability to stand here, now, certainly. But also of solitude. Uncertainty. Grief that lessens but surely will never truly disappear. And hope, that the strength that you helped build in me will allow me to build more, love more, guide more until my last breath. That, I think, is the legacy of love. May I help give that, to those yet remaining to me.
Written By Isabeau
May 29, 2021, 7:47 p.m.(7/23/1015 AR)
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.