Written By Aindre
May 2, 2021, 5:06 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
In the unfolding of battle it is hard to reflect on the lessons one should learn until time has been spent dwelling on them afterwards. When we are, in fact, fortuitous enough to live through such engagements and learn from them. It was an honor to stand around the wartable with the likes of Marquis Kael Keaton, Highlord Alis Valardin, Lady Tesha Telmar and Baroness Calla Vaevici. So too with my cousin Duke Michael Bisland and the Princess Bridget Pravus. Marquish Malesh Stonewood. I cannot forget the unshakeable presence of Grandmaster Preston of the Templar. I believe I learned a little from each of them and as I continue to recount the past and write it down and read it over again and again I have no doubt more lessons will be revealed to me. When you bear the heart of a warrior it is no easy feat to fight a battle through missives and banners and sounding horns. You always wish you could pick up a weapon and go out to save every single person you know will fall because they are following your commands. Surely it is this way with all wartime commanders, those forged in the flames or still being tempered.
The conflict with the Skal'dajan people was far from a rout. In the first half of it, I considered we might even need to sound a retreat and fall back though doing so would have surely cost us the Saffron Chain. It was a decision I felt prepared to make should the worst come to pass. So many on that battlefield fought, bled, died.. against slavers and worse still. So too did their commanders. When the command tent came under attack I could not find a strategic mind from among those spilled out of it and set into sudden disarray that did not earn commendation for their resilience in the face of adversity. How much harder is it to find yourself half-blinded as your wartime table and all your maps and your many reports of the chaos are scattered into the humid winds of the Saffron? It is impossibly hard, but even the impossible is not insurmountable for those who lead the Compact. It is our strength that we stand together and through our strength we persevered in Pieros. Should I have the chance to serve at the side of anyone who did not falter in that tent when it was ripped away from them and with it their wartime faculties, I will gladly do so again.
Written By Tanith
May 2, 2021, 4:33 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Comforting the dying is something Harlequins do, a responsibility I've only just begun on the regular. While midwifery comes more naturally to me, the duty of comfort is not one I'm likely to shirk, not when I've Raymesin as such a good example.
[there's a splotch of ink on the page]
Scholar, did you break your quill? What kind of spasm was that?
-well certainly he comforts the dying. He's good at it. Why wouldn't he be? He's been at this much longer than I have, too.
Written By Valenzo
May 2, 2021, 4:19 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
I went out looking for fame and fortune, found neither, and upon my arrival to the city, the good Lord Domonico assigns me second in command to the fleet. Looks like the Eurusians hate us, now. Or we hate them? I’m not sure, I was gone too long to keep up with all the current events. I was overwhelmed and flattered, but you know what they say about necessity. It was more a need for a hole to be filled than an offer made purely from the cockles of his heart.
Before I know what’s what, there I am, in the Terrapin, hundreds of ships on each side. I acted the brave warrior, but tell you the truth, I didn’t have a clue on what I was doing. I’ve played at war, sure. Played all the games of the tangible and intangible, swung that pendulum of potentiality. But war? Yeah, I had skirmishes back in my naval days. But nothing like this, really.
So I had to go and be some cocky hero out of some saga or legend, and now my ship is gone, along with Dietrich. Gods, I miss that old bastard as much as I miss his soup. What in the abyss do I know about cooking? And while we won the day on the sea, on the shore it wasn’t so much a victory, but wasn’t a loss, either. When you stare into the abyss, the abyss often stares back.
I came home, wanting to crawl in some wine sink in the Burroughs. I wanted Domonico to bellow and shout at me, tell me what a damned fool I was and how I jeopardised my entire crew because all of these dreamy notions of fame and glory that creep into my head. Domonico hasn’t seen the things I’ve seen or done the things I’ve done. But instead? I get promoted. Promoted!
Lord Domonico has asked me to captain a caravel, The Siccaro. Funny how I always dreamed of owning one, my own shallow drafted three-master in my dreams of trade and my own cocoa plantation. This isn’t the dream I wanted, and now I've been thrust into responsibility I didn’t seek. But by Skald, a caravel to pilot! I’ve learned enough about their construction and handling, but it's nothing like my old Terrapin. One mast is enough, now there's three, and thrice the crew to boot.
Of course, now there’s that other thing with Ev, too. Things are happening too fast! It was so easy being alone out there. Guess we all have to come home sometime.
Written By Klaus
May 2, 2021, 4:10 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Coraline
And get back my brown nut ale. Must not loose sight of the true goal here.
Written By Klaus
May 2, 2021, 4:08 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Mabelle
I am supposed to be happy about this, yes? Perhaps so, though my stance on this might change the next time I meet her sharp tongue.
Written By Martino
May 2, 2021, 3:57 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Unique art and tiny, colour shards of glass everywhere within my bedroom. Every.Where.
I must say that the attention to detail in the art is quite something but I am not sure it will be staying just where it is. Any takers?
Written By Giada
May 2, 2021, 3:54 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Written By Lou
May 2, 2021, 2:52 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Written By Deva
May 2, 2021, 2:38 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
I am beyond grateful for the bravery of my friends Volcica, Khanne, and Tikva who helped my brother make sure I didn't end up bleeding out on Pieros. I don't remember a lot after I fell, and perhaps that's for the best. All my thanks to the healers who have spent countless hours tending to me and the other wounded. Jasper has informed me I have missed a lot while I was out cold, so here's a hearty 'hello' for those that came by to check on me. My heart goes out to those searching for loved ones that didn't make it back.
Finally, many apologies to those I startled when I woke up. It took me a while for my head to catch up with where I was. Sorry Gwenna, Alantir, Your Majesty. My bad.
Written By Evaristo
May 2, 2021, 12:57 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Written By Aindre
May 2, 2021, 12:21 p.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Aiden
I wrote to you on the eve of battle and promised that on the other side of it we would meet up again and drink and share stories and laugh like we had done once or twice since I finally made the decision to move my time from Bastion to Arx. As children we were never.. not close, but I think as we aged into adulthood we both felt the chains of nobility tighten and pull. It happens with all nobles, but it is especially pronounced with those of House Grayson. We have a reputation for leadership, for duty. So often those roles devour the time of a Griffin as we seek to become the wind beneath the wings of those who look to us for guidance. You felt this too, I know. There is a reason you were so coveted in your position as the Duke-Consort of Gemecitta. The more I spoke with people here in Arx who had been a part of your life, the more I realized how much they looked up to you.
I was wrong. The preparations to set sail for Pieros should not have stayed our next chance to sit together and reminisce and rediscover one another and how we had changed as we got older. That wrongness sits lodged in me like the blade of a dagger broken off. Will I ever dig it out? I bleed. I am glad for the things I was able to say to you in the time we had together but there are so many other things that never made it past my lips nor slipped off the tip of my quill. I was so damned /proud/ of you. I won't play around the truth, as a child you could be awkward. You were a follower. I know. You followed Ainsley and I around incessantly unless you were taken by one of your avian obsessions. Sometimes it was endearing and sometimes it was obnoxious. It was of some concern to our parents, I remember well. I was trying so hard to grow up and you? You were simply in love with the things you chose to love, unapologetically so. As we found each other again here in Arx I was.. I guess relieved.. to witness how that unabashed capacity for love in you had not been ground down like so much milled grain. You had changed of course, but my Gods the splendor of your feathers was exciting to behold. You wore those changes so well. You only needed to be let out from under the weight of expectation that comes with being raised in Bastion, especially those heaped upon our lineage, the joining of Grayson and Bisland blood.
You never liked conflict. I don't believe that part of you ever changed. I don't even know if you were wrong to abhor it even if it is such a necessary part of life and nobility. It hurts my heart that you spent your last moments mired in the field of battle even if I understand you passed from this life saving another. The man whose life you preserved, I hope he realizes what was taken from this Compact so that he could remain. I cannot resent him even if the want to curls around my heart and clutches at it. I know if you were given the chance to do it over again you would do it just the same way because the awkward boy who sometimes followed me around when Ainsley was away and Ailys was occupied had truly grown into his plumage. He was a fierce and as loyal as any griffin. As brave as any lion. I don't mean in war. In life. In love and friendship and compassion. You were the most compassionate person I ever met. I could learn a thing or two from you. Many could, perhaps did. So many more never will now.
I don't know what else to write to you except that already I miss you more than I know what to do with. It's not a feeling I am accustomed to, not knowing what to do with myself. The Queen of Death has taken you but I have a hard time believing the Mother of Beginnings will not see you soaring once again and so very soon. Your bright soul is too much of a loss for this world and when it is rested - a rest truly deserved - you will take wing again.
I love you, little brother.
- Aindre
Written By Gael
May 2, 2021, 11:55 a.m.(5/25/1015 AR)
Confessor Gael, in your hands again, Custodian Vellichor,
I'm awake at last. Here, in the hospital, I suppose I'll have some knight's squire do me the favor of taking it to the archives, my white. Perhaps she will misplace it and leave it in some gutter, but I hope not, I pray she'll be responsible with it.
It had been a long time since last that I lost total consciousness, but never could I imagine it'd be different each time. Like a man waking up from one long, confining nightmare, realigning towards the light of day at last. The battle ended as a stalemate last I recall, due to unforeseen circumstances and interference by the local environ. Never had I seen anything like it, nor would I have expected it to be retrograde to our advance, but it happened. I'll not be saying what, but those there on those plains know.
If only mother could see me now, her inveterate boy me drawing his sword for a cause not wholly his own. I wish she knew, but at the same time, I know such a thing isn't possible; perhaps it is better that it is not in the first place. I pray she is well.
The care I have received here in the hospital has been phenomenal. Each Mercy pours out their heart on each patient, their purpose clear in enabling life in those fading away, at all cost. An unenviable and sometimes thankless task, but they are of an honor rare that anticipates no reward, nor recognition, and the Compact truly is blessed to have birthed such a noble consortium of menders. That being said, no such care would've mattered hadn't it been for Rinel Tern, who saved my life out in the plains of Pieros.
I leave this in the Stacks less-so with the expectance that it shall be read by anyone, but more-so as a reminder to myself to repay the debt to her. Somehow, in some shape or way, in the future.
Lagoma's fire endured that day,
And although it may flicker and sway at times, it will continue to endure forevermore.
Written By Thea
May 2, 2021, 10:26 a.m.(5/24/1015 AR)
Written By Jaenelle
May 2, 2021, 9:38 a.m.(5/24/1015 AR)
The other side of the coin that I have heard each time one of these decisions comes to light is that they are soldiers. They knew before hand what the possibilities of war can bring. How peace is not forever and the Compact is in constant war with those who are not part of it. They knew, so my guilt is raking their choice from them, that it is lessening their sacrifice because I have felt the weight of the burden.
As stories trickle in, as reports find their way to my desk, I know we as a whole have made the right decision. The only decision there was in order to keep our freedom and to show others who might consider us weak that we are not. We stood shoulder to shoulder and defended what makes up the very core of the Compact.
These names, the ones on these pages that will never return: you will never be forgotten. Your sacrifice will never be forsaken. I will continue to forever shoulder this burden.
Written By Kastelon
May 2, 2021, 9:22 a.m.(5/24/1015 AR)
Our family motto, the guiding star of our lives. Our fealty lords have gone to the south to stand against our enemies, and we, the Keatons, have followed for the benefit of the Compact. And, as others have said, our efforts have ensured that the Compact endures.
Though with what I have seen at war... in what form do we endure? How has this changed us, and... is this a change that we wish to see?
I return to Arvum, my vision of things significantly changed. And not just because of my injury.
Written By Zyxthylum
May 2, 2021, 4:53 a.m.(5/24/1015 AR)
Written By Torian
May 2, 2021, 12:53 a.m.(5/24/1015 AR)
The Culler's are not soldiers, but growing up as most of us do, we are certainly be fighters.
Acacia and Tython captained the two caravels we brought to war just as well as anyone, by my reckoning. Tython maneuvered past the initial line of defenders just as easy as side-stepping some road apples on the wagon path up from the docks. Acacia put us right next to the enemy so my kin and I could get to boarding and brawling.
Raja and Samira Culler made me just as proud, fighting along side their friends, saving a ship that might otherwise have been lost.
I'm proud of all my people, and there's so many, too many to list, but know that 17 of them were returned to the wheel in defense of the Compact, may the gods remember them in light of their sacrifice.
((Seventeen names follow, a mix of 'legal' and 'street' names as was the preference of those brave NPCs who gave their lives so that I could write a mildly somber journal entry.))
Written By Mabelle
May 1, 2021, 11:40 p.m.(5/24/1015 AR)
But before I do, there are things to be done: wounds to tend to, mourners to console, families who lost their loved ones, fathers, mothers, those who provided for them that need to be cared for. Where do I begin? Can one fix her own wounds by caring for others?
I hope so, because that is the plan. We have won. Now to deal with the aftermath.
Written By Acantha
May 1, 2021, 9:55 p.m.(5/23/1015 AR)
And we will never look at the depths the same again.
Written By Rosalind
May 1, 2021, 7:08 p.m.(5/23/1015 AR)
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.