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Written By Josephine

Sept. 3, 2018, 8:53 p.m.(7/9/1009 AR)

I met the loveliest woman today. Her name was Gianna. Such a lovely voice. So strange the people you can meet within the walls of the Murder of Crows. That and for one moment I shocked my greatest client, my favourite client, into silence.

Who knew old ladies could throw darts so well. Apparently not them. The wine was free. Probably for the best we didn't play for coin.

Written By Josephine

Aug. 29, 2018, 12:13 p.m.(6/25/1009 AR)

The amount of people who think it is a lark to try and sell an old woman on dwarves being real. Shame. Nothing but shame for them. I do not have the time to deal with their bamboozling protestations and assurances that a singular ibdividual managed to make it out of a mine where horrors awaited that culled others and was of sound enough mind. Shenanigans. Utter foolery. This Norman is a spinner of yarns far better than Mistress Petals wools. Ridiculous.

Written By Josephine

Aug. 24, 2018, 11:27 p.m.(6/16/1009 AR)

Dwarves. He thinks I am descended from people who live or lived under a mountain in a land far to the south called the suthyrn wastes.

or dragons. Possibly dragons. Fanciful tales. Just like the tales spoken by the fire of large behemoths called formorians.

some day I should ask what they drink and to share with me. Till then I shall laugh softly and admire them for their imagination.

Written By Josephine

Aug. 19, 2018, 2:01 a.m.(6/4/1009 AR)

It was an overwhelming night. I can write that at least. I did volunteer to attend as Pena Stormrider, the last Heirophant and spent my time with Lord Alessandro Greenmarch learning of the stories written about her and the legend so woven around her. There were others there though whether some of them were real or not, I have to wonder, especially of the stories told of them. Of Prince Tyrval and his magical making of chairs from drops of his blood.

I am convinced that those in my alcove were pulling an old womans leg. I had to leave now and then, the sheer noise, the mingling of people and jewelry and weapons, all of it was overwhelming. But I did manage to be stolen for a dance from a surprising individual. Mortimer. Of all people.

In the end I couldn't stay. It really was too loud and now my head hurts. I can hear the headress from over here and it sings as sweetly as it did when my daughter made it. I should send it to the shop to store there. So lovely.

Written By Josephine

Aug. 17, 2018, 12:02 p.m.(6/1/1009 AR)

Pearls. Hateful things really. But everyone seems to like them.

nothing good ever came from the water. I say that over and over but no one ever believes me.

Written By Josephine

Aug. 13, 2018, 7:05 p.m.(5/21/1009 AR)

Platinum.

That's what I dream of.

I wonder if they would let me near the Ballistae that I am told the city had. Even just to touch it.

I wonder what it sings.

Written By Josephine

Aug. 13, 2018, 2:40 p.m.(5/21/1009 AR)

My mind has been wandering of late. Not focused upon the pieces on my bench that murmur their desires. Desires that I have turned away from momentarily. Something lacks. Something makes my mind wander away. As if it has decided that right now it wants. I think about the words read by those who looked in the archives into heritage matters.

And there's a longing. A strange desire to work with something that I know I cannot find and none the less I want to work with it.

Written By Josephine

Aug. 1, 2018, 10:59 p.m.(4/21/1009 AR)

It is a strange thing. To sit and listen to ones daughter on what was found during an intense few weeks within the archives and the whites. For mentions of ones family name and of metal that speaks.

Stranger still to see entries that speak ill of ones family simply because individuals have managed to here and there show such skills as to inspire jealousy and ill whispers. I do not know whether to be affronted - and truly these people are long dead so there would be no point to affront - or to laugh. To write of mixed heritage. Which ends up begging the question of what do they mean by -mixed-? Truly, it's confusing at times. But then, I chose to pursue this avenue and now I have to decide if I would pursue it further.

Perhaps see if I cannot find some of these remarkable pieces that those of my lineage have wrought and see what they have to whisper.

Written By Josephine

July 22, 2018, 3:08 p.m.(3/28/1009 AR)

Mama Josephine.

I will admit that it has been a long time since I heard those words and they tended to be words that I heard from the word of my youngest and of the men who married my daughters. Very strange to hear it from another's mouth. Am I seen like this? I suppose. I'm much older than some of the young things plying their trades. And oh what trades they ply. Some of them I admit, makes me envious. I am delighted in my own but it does not stop me from procuring this and that from others. Even their jewelry.

Written By Josephine

July 7, 2018, 12:09 p.m.(2/24/1009 AR)

I stood beside my daughter and looked at the piece made before it was to be sent off to the Duchess. The dragonweep. So many evenings spent taking care with it, each curl carefully bent. No seams seen. Lord Grady even spent an evening or two joining me when he wasn't busy with work or his wife and I showed him some of the finer points of tending to the ignots and fashioning the piece. He struck the sytgian a time or two and helped to file and polish. More the polish. His song now added to the whole of it. All piece get my best but some pieces just seem to fall into place better. I hope that she finds joy in this. The song I hear is a blend of sorrow and joy and I am sure to hear it for some time. Till something else sings a little sweeter in it's desire.

Written By Josephine

July 2, 2018, 12:04 a.m.(2/13/1009 AR)

So many things fly off shelves, orders make their way in and out. Rattles. I made rattles. Something that I confess I have never made and I hope that I have risen to the task by doing so. To shape and mold the silver till it resembled what they should. To work the engraving to place their names on it. It makes me think I should have made one for my own children.

Written By Josephine

June 21, 2018, 4:02 p.m.(1/20/1009 AR)

And so, after probably a great deal of deliberation, excess meetings with some, unanswered missives from others and fallen through meetings, I have taken patronage. It was hard in the end, the two choices. It was not made lightly. But some things feel right. They just do. Lord Grady Deepwood I think, shall prove to be an interesting patron. I certainly do.

Written By Josephine

June 21, 2018, 2:21 p.m.(1/20/1009 AR)

Well now. Dame Ida is making me re-think the possibility of a rocking chair. I wonder if I could find enough Star Iron to have one made...

Written By Josephine

June 21, 2018, 1:43 p.m.(1/20/1009 AR)

A rocking chair. No, I don't think that would sit well in front of the Velvet Box as much as it seems to in front of a few other shops. I shall have to remain content with my couches, in my mirror riddled store. Or the chair in my worshop, near the forge.

Written By Josephine

May 15, 2018, 9:54 p.m.(10/2/1008 AR)

So silly really. The odds are great that I will not need it and yet, I am in collaboration with Master Jayeth. Leather will do for the rest of me, but that Iridescite. I can't explain it but it is mollified and appeased now. A chest piece of the finest steel, and Iridescite blended with it, as if it were a pool of ater, waiting to be touched, the faintest patterning across the surface and then... as if it might be disrupted. No gems, no adornments of any other kind. Just the lustre of the Iridescite. I can't stop humming. So silly. So lovely.

Written By Josephine

May 10, 2018, 11 a.m.(9/18/1008 AR)

As I woke this morning I fondly remember throwing darts last evening, but little else. My daughter informed me that I made my way to my rooms at the hundred cities, said something about nimble fingers and then I woke with her, some strong Westrock coffee and everything in my workroom being terribly loud. Terribly. I care not for sapphires when my head hurts. I don't think I even brought home a commemorative dart or a bottle of...

Written By Josephine

May 5, 2018, 5:22 p.m.(9/9/1008 AR)

The call for the possibilty of a patron has left quite a few answers on my step. None have been met with yet, arrangements made to sit, take a meal and speak. I must claim surprise that so many answered the call and am so very humbled by it. It will be hard to choose one, but somewhere in there, surely there is one to who me and mine will found a relationship with as I did back in Lenosia.

Written By Josephine

April 9, 2018, 1:18 a.m.(7/8/1008 AR)

Who would have thought that a ring with a minature of Sanctum sitting on top of it would have been so popular. Yet it has been bought out. Even the one that opens up to find a symbol of the faith inside. By far, I must confess, my favourite piece. Or maybe the two birds buffeting their wings. So many things float through my mind and only so much time to sit and sketch them out then make them. Perhaps one of Farhaven, but what to put inside it. Or the cathedral. All the major cities with something secret inside. So much to make.

Written By Josephine

April 8, 2018, 11:53 p.m.(7/8/1008 AR)

The Velvet Box opens. It took some time to find the right place. The generosity of the Archduchess had a great deal of influence on choosing where to set my shop. That my children are present to help brings me no small amount of joy and comfort at this time. Our loss means that I feel their presence even more. It feels good to be close to my grandchildren as well. To seem them more than just a few times each year. Already the doors are beat down and things are sold as fast as I can put them out. I will have to wander the city for more inspiration. Praise to Jayus and the other gods and my dear son in the arms of the Queen of Endings. I do miss you. But you did so, for us and I will remember you always.

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