Written By Victus
Jan. 13, 2019, 8:37 p.m.(5/9/1010 AR)
If there is one thing that has been true in Thrax's long, bloodied and war-torn history, it is that we are a people who put the honor of our houses first in all things. Men and women both die to save their houses and families the shame of having to deal with their perceived disgrace. Dressed in all the armor of their station before they walk into the ocean itself to atone.
Prince Drake Thrax executed his own brother for daring to break guest rite with murder, a stain on Thrax that would not be tolerated in his domain.
Any who believe that a Thraxian house would have dared to break guest rite in their court, or a foreign one, need to examine their evidence /very/ closely. Guest rite is sacred and you will be hard-pressed to find someone so insane, so irresponsible, so utterly asinine as to even THINK of tarnishing it.
Prince Drake Thrax executed his own brother for daring to break guest rite with murder, a stain on Thrax that would not be tolerated in his domain.
Any who believe that a Thraxian house would have dared to break guest rite in their court, or a foreign one, need to examine their evidence /very/ closely. Guest rite is sacred and you will be hard-pressed to find someone so insane, so irresponsible, so utterly asinine as to even THINK of tarnishing it.
Written By Victus
Jan. 9, 2019, 11:46 p.m.(5/1/1010 AR)
Peace has always been a fragile thing. In fact I'd say that it's almost odd that so much time has passed since border friction. It was to be expected that it couldn't last. This road may have only been the spark that paved the way. Or perhaps it was this long lasting peace that gave us enough security to try something on a grander, much riskier scale. I can't say for certain, but all of the chaos could certainly have been foreseen. At least on the bright side, the harshest mistakes are usually the most effective teachers.
All things come with their mirror images. All intentions good and bad will fuel their counterparts. The pendulum will swing the other way, eventually. Until then there's a storm to be weathered.
All things come with their mirror images. All intentions good and bad will fuel their counterparts. The pendulum will swing the other way, eventually. Until then there's a storm to be weathered.
Written By Victus
Jan. 3, 2019, 12:17 p.m.(4/16/1010 AR)
A Sword used for personal vendetta is a wound upon any house's honor.
The longer this has gone without an adequate resolution, the longer the wound is left to fester.
The longer this has gone without an adequate resolution, the longer the wound is left to fester.
Written By Victus
Dec. 31, 2018, 8:16 a.m.(4/10/1010 AR)
Winter has always been my favorite season. Unfortunate that this year's had ended first in toxic snow and then in a tragedy. The cold has not been a welcome feeling since.
Yet now that the sun shines warm and bright, there isn't an ounce of comfort to be had with foreign emissaries at our door.
No rest to be had, merely one punch after another. Exhausting. Yet we press on.
Yet now that the sun shines warm and bright, there isn't an ounce of comfort to be had with foreign emissaries at our door.
No rest to be had, merely one punch after another. Exhausting. Yet we press on.
Written By Victus
Dec. 28, 2018, 12:41 a.m.(4/3/1010 AR)
The end is just another part of the journey. Yet even in our world, the end is never really the end. From when we are born to when our bodies are decayed, our soul will return another day. Every death is the end of a chapter. Although it's difficult not to still find fear in that end, when the memories of who you are today are lost to tomorrow. But when it's time to go, will it really matter? After all you probably won't remember it by the end.
There was a time I called myself fearless of death. When I saw strength only worthwhile in the sword arm and how many you could cut down with it. I had no one to rely on me then. I had no wife. I had no children. Now I find death to be quite a scary thing. Not for what I lose, but for what I leave behind. It would be irresponsible of me to die now of all times, while my kids are young. Unable to fend for themselves. The time of being a a reckless warrior passed me by years ago.
It's led me to think more and more upon the end of things. Specifically where this incarnation of my story ends. I hold some ideals about how I would like that ending to go. It is not one where I face a warrior's death, barking challenge to the void while I dive forward with a spear in hand. It's not one where I slip peacefully into the beyond either.
One day I will be too old to hold an axe, or stand myself steady and straight on the deck of a ship. Only useful for barking wisdom and lunacy intertwined at my descendants. We either die or live long enough to become dusty relics of the path. Neither will allow me to continue to be useful to Thrax when those days loom.
The only goal I truly find imperative to achieve in this life is to see that Astrid becomes fit to take my place. When she is a grown woman, a grown warrior that has the unyielding tradition of our homeland in her blood, that'll be when I can stop.
Because perhaps foolishly, I believe a day will come when I've given enough. A day when I can fade into the background and see what I've built sustain itself.
I'll retire and place my daughter on my throne. I'll build a home on the shore and I'll fish for my food. When I'm bored, I'll row out into the sea and drift on the waves till it's time to come back in. Just me, myself and I on a beach. Nowhere in particular. Living one day at a time.
It's a very difficult dream to achieve, I think. But one that I hope I don't lose sight of in the coming years. Every time I see her marching down a hallway with a bundle of kittens in tow, I know that those days are very far off. Before I get too ahead of myself, it's best that I cherish the time we spend together now. It'll only be a few years before things really start to get rattled.
There was a time I called myself fearless of death. When I saw strength only worthwhile in the sword arm and how many you could cut down with it. I had no one to rely on me then. I had no wife. I had no children. Now I find death to be quite a scary thing. Not for what I lose, but for what I leave behind. It would be irresponsible of me to die now of all times, while my kids are young. Unable to fend for themselves. The time of being a a reckless warrior passed me by years ago.
It's led me to think more and more upon the end of things. Specifically where this incarnation of my story ends. I hold some ideals about how I would like that ending to go. It is not one where I face a warrior's death, barking challenge to the void while I dive forward with a spear in hand. It's not one where I slip peacefully into the beyond either.
One day I will be too old to hold an axe, or stand myself steady and straight on the deck of a ship. Only useful for barking wisdom and lunacy intertwined at my descendants. We either die or live long enough to become dusty relics of the path. Neither will allow me to continue to be useful to Thrax when those days loom.
The only goal I truly find imperative to achieve in this life is to see that Astrid becomes fit to take my place. When she is a grown woman, a grown warrior that has the unyielding tradition of our homeland in her blood, that'll be when I can stop.
Because perhaps foolishly, I believe a day will come when I've given enough. A day when I can fade into the background and see what I've built sustain itself.
I'll retire and place my daughter on my throne. I'll build a home on the shore and I'll fish for my food. When I'm bored, I'll row out into the sea and drift on the waves till it's time to come back in. Just me, myself and I on a beach. Nowhere in particular. Living one day at a time.
It's a very difficult dream to achieve, I think. But one that I hope I don't lose sight of in the coming years. Every time I see her marching down a hallway with a bundle of kittens in tow, I know that those days are very far off. Before I get too ahead of myself, it's best that I cherish the time we spend together now. It'll only be a few years before things really start to get rattled.
Written By Victus
Dec. 20, 2018, 11:06 p.m.(3/17/1010 AR)
Recently I've been described as 'neurotic.' I don't believe I am, I think I merely know when and how I want to smile or frown.
Written By Victus
Dec. 19, 2018, 5:16 p.m.(3/14/1010 AR)
It's strange.
I never met this person. I never talked to them. I didn't think of them too often either. Yet the world is crying. I feel as though I should be mourning alongside it. Grief hangs heavy on my mind for a stranger. For a building. For events I've never experienced.
The world does not make much sense of late.
I never met this person. I never talked to them. I didn't think of them too often either. Yet the world is crying. I feel as though I should be mourning alongside it. Grief hangs heavy on my mind for a stranger. For a building. For events I've never experienced.
The world does not make much sense of late.
Written By Victus
Dec. 2, 2018, 11:25 p.m.(2/8/1010 AR)
What makes a legacy? Many things I'd say. Perhaps the most important of which is the strength of one's bloodline. What we do now, everything you as an individual do will reflect upon your family. Your parents and your children. Your children's children. An ancestor creates the base for one to ascend to. Then it is their duty to raise beyond that base - or at the very least, make an effort worthy of its status.
I hope that when my children look back upon their family line, they will know that they are descended from greatness. They will know that it is their duty to carry that greatness onward. For their legacy is our legacy. Our legacy will endure when all who live today are gone back to the Wheel. Remember that one day, you too will be an ancestor to someone.
When they look upon your life they should see something worth aspiring to.
I hope that when my children look back upon their family line, they will know that they are descended from greatness. They will know that it is their duty to carry that greatness onward. For their legacy is our legacy. Our legacy will endure when all who live today are gone back to the Wheel. Remember that one day, you too will be an ancestor to someone.
When they look upon your life they should see something worth aspiring to.
Written By Victus
Nov. 19, 2018, 10:06 a.m.(1/9/1010 AR)
A soldier's life is sacrifice in service. A soldier's life rarely ends in a pleasant retirement.
We will always need to sacrifice just the right amount to keep this world safe from the enemies that plague us.
The Compact sacrifices much. But we do not waste the lives of those who defend us. Every death, a purpose.
Nobody who has died in defense of the Lodge has died invain. That will be enough.
We will always need to sacrifice just the right amount to keep this world safe from the enemies that plague us.
The Compact sacrifices much. But we do not waste the lives of those who defend us. Every death, a purpose.
Nobody who has died in defense of the Lodge has died invain. That will be enough.
Written By Victus
Nov. 14, 2018, 4:53 p.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
I'm hearing a lot of nice things about this 'coffee' business, yet I've never had any drink warmer than a cup of cider in my belly before.
Perhaps someone can sell me on it.
Perhaps someone can sell me on it.
Written By Victus
Nov. 11, 2018, 6:48 p.m.(12/21/1009 AR)
I took my time back home to reflect. The 13th is not a being I can ever recommend the worship of, but to not acknowledge the darker parts of one's self is to invite much worse things. I bowed my head to acknowledge them while I sat inside the Maelstrom's walls.
I've four children now. Four of them. That should be more than enough to ensure at least one is worthy of the Thrax bloodline. I'd like to say that I was ready for at least one, you know. Truthfully, I don't think I was ready for any of them. I never looked at myself as the fatherly type. Never one who would settle down and raise a family. Merely an extension of my own House's will.
In my reflection I've seen how I still struggle, between the pull of my station and the pull of my past. What I've come to realize is that I no longer possess the time to delay.
It feels as though yesterday, Astrid was just a lump that slept the months away. Now, she walks. She talks. Sometimes anyway. Perhaps teaching her to use a weapon is just a day away. Perhaps her first decree as Princess of the Maelstrom is just next week. If I blink, I may miss it.
Time will not wait up for me. It's time I stopped dallying and started acting on what my House will need of me.
I've four children now. Four of them. That should be more than enough to ensure at least one is worthy of the Thrax bloodline. I'd like to say that I was ready for at least one, you know. Truthfully, I don't think I was ready for any of them. I never looked at myself as the fatherly type. Never one who would settle down and raise a family. Merely an extension of my own House's will.
In my reflection I've seen how I still struggle, between the pull of my station and the pull of my past. What I've come to realize is that I no longer possess the time to delay.
It feels as though yesterday, Astrid was just a lump that slept the months away. Now, she walks. She talks. Sometimes anyway. Perhaps teaching her to use a weapon is just a day away. Perhaps her first decree as Princess of the Maelstrom is just next week. If I blink, I may miss it.
Time will not wait up for me. It's time I stopped dallying and started acting on what my House will need of me.
Written By Victus
Nov. 2, 2018, 4:24 p.m.(12/3/1009 AR)
I find my thoughts drifting toward my parentage of late. Argus Thrax and a Northern girl coming together to produce a bastard.
My father was nothing to write home about. Brutal and insane. I see many shades of what I could have been in that man's history. I don't count never meeting him as one of my regrets, it sounded like we wouldn't have like each other very much.
Then there was my mother. In my first few years of life I was taken from her by my Uncle Donrai to an entirely different destiny. Sometimes I find faint images of her when I dream that I can scarcely remember when I wake. Always, always being ticked by what could have been. Painfully.
Hmph. I wish you were still around, Freja.
My father was nothing to write home about. Brutal and insane. I see many shades of what I could have been in that man's history. I don't count never meeting him as one of my regrets, it sounded like we wouldn't have like each other very much.
Then there was my mother. In my first few years of life I was taken from her by my Uncle Donrai to an entirely different destiny. Sometimes I find faint images of her when I dream that I can scarcely remember when I wake. Always, always being ticked by what could have been. Painfully.
Hmph. I wish you were still around, Freja.
Written By Victus
Nov. 1, 2018, 8:17 a.m.(11/28/1009 AR)
The one night of the year we keep the mirrors covered and the doors firmly locked at the Thrax Estate. Red skies are nothing to fuck with.
Written By Victus
Oct. 23, 2018, 5:17 p.m.(11/11/1009 AR)
There are many institutions within the Isles that we pay great respect to as people of the salt. Those which have built us a strong foundation with which to further ourselves in the world. It is because of this staunch respect for our tradition that I find it especially heinous when one sullies that with such a dishonorable act.
Oliver Arterius' debt was repaid in full. By all accounts within Thrax's purview, that man was free to conduct his life as he so chose. There was no breakage of contract. There was no crimes committed to instate any further labor to his life. He was a citizen and most importantly an individual with every right same as you or I.
I speculate that the one who committed such a vile act of cowardice believes that their messages stand to defend Thrax's traditions. I believe that it couldn't be further from the truth. Whatever this person's goal or their motivation, they have done wrong in the eyes of the Sentinel themselves by bringing injustice to freed thralls anywhere.
This death - This murder should disturb all who call the Mourning Isles' home, as it stands to show a voice that strikes out at our way of life with dishonor.
I look forward to working toward a swift retribution to satisfy the wrong committed. Place our trust in the Sentinel.
Oliver Arterius' debt was repaid in full. By all accounts within Thrax's purview, that man was free to conduct his life as he so chose. There was no breakage of contract. There was no crimes committed to instate any further labor to his life. He was a citizen and most importantly an individual with every right same as you or I.
I speculate that the one who committed such a vile act of cowardice believes that their messages stand to defend Thrax's traditions. I believe that it couldn't be further from the truth. Whatever this person's goal or their motivation, they have done wrong in the eyes of the Sentinel themselves by bringing injustice to freed thralls anywhere.
This death - This murder should disturb all who call the Mourning Isles' home, as it stands to show a voice that strikes out at our way of life with dishonor.
I look forward to working toward a swift retribution to satisfy the wrong committed. Place our trust in the Sentinel.
Written By Victus
Oct. 15, 2018, 10:52 p.m.(10/15/1009 AR)
With this raging fire of Telmar and Swords ongoing, one part of the Champion's tale has been struck deep in my mind. I'm getting tired of being irritated by it, so I take the time to vent.
Members of peerage acted no better than street thugs when they took it upon themselves to form a group then attack and damn near maim a commoner. Whether or not she held a priceless heirloom does not justify these actions, especially when the damn thing was willfully handed over rather than torn out of its holder's hands. I can think of few things more fucking abhorrent than having taken a loss of pride so hard that you and a crew needs to beat the hell out of a woman who defeated you cleanly.
If you must use your power to put your boot on the throats of those below you, when they committed no crime worthy of it, you're no better than rabble. We must be better than that.
Members of peerage acted no better than street thugs when they took it upon themselves to form a group then attack and damn near maim a commoner. Whether or not she held a priceless heirloom does not justify these actions, especially when the damn thing was willfully handed over rather than torn out of its holder's hands. I can think of few things more fucking abhorrent than having taken a loss of pride so hard that you and a crew needs to beat the hell out of a woman who defeated you cleanly.
If you must use your power to put your boot on the throats of those below you, when they committed no crime worthy of it, you're no better than rabble. We must be better than that.
Written By Victus
Oct. 13, 2018, 7:45 p.m.(10/10/1009 AR)
Ah, and to think I thought today would be a boring one.
Written By Victus
Oct. 12, 2018, 10:43 p.m.(10/9/1009 AR)
Don't ask.
Written By Victus
Oct. 9, 2018, 6:58 p.m.(10/2/1009 AR)
You'll never be as happy as a dog that's wagging its tail so hard, its ass can't keep up.
Written By Victus
Oct. 8, 2018, 3:34 a.m.(9/27/1009 AR)
Why we name so many places after storms?
Written By Victus
Oct. 4, 2018, 12:32 a.m.(9/19/1009 AR)
I swear, it's like the lot of you have never had the pleasure of a chill wind whipping at your bones. The comforting warmth of a bigass jacket coming around your shoulders. Trudging through knee-deep snow that's been freshly laid like nature just brushed its hand over the ground and went 'you're gonna be so fucking pretty'. Fuck's sake, any of you ever even made a snow angel before?
Seasons that come before winter are the weak and soft. Winter is where the real fun happens.
Seasons that come before winter are the weak and soft. Winter is where the real fun happens.
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