Written By Cerys
Dec. 29, 2022, 7:58 p.m.(2/19/1019 AR)
I stumbled into an interesting and stimulating conversation with Lord Savio Amadeo at the Archives. A popular place, it seems, for before we knew it, a multitude of voices had added to the conversation: Briseis, Caspian, Ilira, and even Patrizio. The conversation shifted into relaxing socializing and playful banter.
A most delightful gathering.
A most delightful gathering.
Written By Acacia
Dec. 29, 2022, 5:32 p.m.(2/19/1019 AR)
Funny how things change. I remember another time. Way back. Running with bare feet through the dirty streets, stealing apples, getting into places we had no business being, avoiding a swat or a right arse kicking. Scattering like rabbits when the Iron Guard comes marching by. They never chased us. Not worth their noting. But we took it as if we were the fucking King of the Lowers Lord being tracked for the taking.
We, the wild and free wee denizens of the Lowers. The world was our oyster, or so we liked to think. This place our kingdom, if you believed us as we swapped tales as we lay flat on sun-soaked stone roof tiles watching the stars and making our plans for when we would take our thrones. Ah, all the grand plans for improvements if we ruled the land.
So many of us are dead now. Or gone. Those that remain are all changed. We're not who we were. Growing up is a rough and bloody business in our world. But sometimes, just sometimes you can see who we were in there. Laced loud and proud in a real laugh or a whisper of it when we get all inspired or something good is anticipated. A look, a quip, or in a shared old jest with a friend.
More of us will go soon, and one day all of us will be dead. And, the new kings and queens of the Lowers will be born and soon make their plans and starry wishes on warm summer rooftops.
I hope they reach those stars they're wishing on. I hope it's everything and more that they're dreaming of.
We, the wild and free wee denizens of the Lowers. The world was our oyster, or so we liked to think. This place our kingdom, if you believed us as we swapped tales as we lay flat on sun-soaked stone roof tiles watching the stars and making our plans for when we would take our thrones. Ah, all the grand plans for improvements if we ruled the land.
So many of us are dead now. Or gone. Those that remain are all changed. We're not who we were. Growing up is a rough and bloody business in our world. But sometimes, just sometimes you can see who we were in there. Laced loud and proud in a real laugh or a whisper of it when we get all inspired or something good is anticipated. A look, a quip, or in a shared old jest with a friend.
More of us will go soon, and one day all of us will be dead. And, the new kings and queens of the Lowers will be born and soon make their plans and starry wishes on warm summer rooftops.
I hope they reach those stars they're wishing on. I hope it's everything and more that they're dreaming of.
Written By Vitalis
Dec. 28, 2022, 10:13 p.m.(2/18/1019 AR)
I find myself wondering what Savio has to say about the humble turnip.
Written By Victus
Dec. 27, 2022, 10:01 p.m.(2/15/1019 AR)
Relationship Note on Dagon
Maybe this is how it was always meant to end. Maybe we'll meet in the next life. Maybe we'll be better in that one.
Written By Cufre
Dec. 27, 2022, 7:35 p.m.(2/15/1019 AR)
Relationship Note on Felicia
It was nearly a year ago my sister died. I see, now, how when the Queen was lost to us, we turned to Lagoma. Felicia's death pried the stone that made the rest of us glitter all the more from our family. Or so it's felt, this last year.
But she wouldn't have wanted that.
And She doesn't.
We will never be the same with her gone. But that should be the way of things when you've had the luck of being close to someone who aimed so directly for life's fullness. Fel's memorial skull reminded me of that, so I owe a thanks to the one who made it.
But she wouldn't have wanted that.
And She doesn't.
We will never be the same with her gone. But that should be the way of things when you've had the luck of being close to someone who aimed so directly for life's fullness. Fel's memorial skull reminded me of that, so I owe a thanks to the one who made it.
Written By Ida
Dec. 27, 2022, 5:56 a.m.(2/14/1019 AR)
Winter near Sanctum is not all that much different than in Arx. It's not the most ideal season to do traveling, especially with recent goings-on, but I went anyhow. Sometimes those visits fill me with new inspiration, which I guess I was feeling I needed. As joyous and grand The Thirteen Days of Years End are in Arx, there's a charm to the celebrations in the smaller hamlets, like the one Austen and I are from. It was good to be there for the holiday and see the kids, though I can hardly really call them that anymore. Or so they tell me every time I do. I missed my home here in Arx after awhile - the quiet of the back room of the shop and some good hot chocolate while the cold winds and snow menace the streets. When my fingers aren't so cold, maybe I'll get back to some interesting new weapons.
Written By Tikva
Dec. 26, 2022, 3:59 p.m.(2/13/1019 AR)
A poem:
The bard whose voice is ink
he sings a carol by instinct
I know his tune, I smile to see
Though far apart, a gleam of glee.
The bard whose voice is ink
he sings a carol by instinct
I know his tune, I smile to see
Though far apart, a gleam of glee.
Written By Mabelle
Dec. 25, 2022, 3:44 p.m.(2/11/1019 AR)
How troubled must I be that I keep leaving my furs at home and freezing to the bone?
Written By Raemond
Dec. 25, 2022, 2:45 p.m.(2/11/1019 AR)
Unexpected paths open before us all the time. A circumstance, an event, a step in the wrong (or right?) direction can lead us to a destination we don't expect. Loss can lead to gain, grief and tragedy to triumph. Feast to famine, overabundance to later lack. Push and pull, swing and retreat and then ... stillness, before the heart beats again and life returns. A new choice, walking forward.
I've much to be appreciative of. Who knew losing an eye could lead to so much wealth?
Hm? No, scholar. Not that kind of wealth.
I've much to be appreciative of. Who knew losing an eye could lead to so much wealth?
Hm? No, scholar. Not that kind of wealth.
Written By Ilira
Dec. 24, 2022, 5:57 p.m.(2/9/1019 AR)
I have wasted so much of my time not doing what I want.
Written By Lucita
Dec. 24, 2022, 10:14 a.m.(2/9/1019 AR)
War is so painful. Not just the physical wounds, but the wounds to the spirit of seeing so many men die, their families and friends hurt... makes me sad to think about it so I'm going to put this journal aside and go find some solace in music, cheerful music.
Written By Lark
Dec. 24, 2022, 1:52 a.m.(2/8/1019 AR)
Relationship Note on Dagon
I do not seek to center this man's tragedy on myself. However, when faced with tragedy, one must reflect on the roles we might have played. I was High Lord when my now brother-in-law challenged and defeated Dagon. He came to me in the days that followed. He knelt in the gardens at the Palace while I stood and asked me to be a champion for his cause, and I declined.
I have since been blessed with nieces and nephews for whom I would not change a thing, yet I cannot resist retracing my steps, returning to the memory of that day, and meditating on the choices that led us here.
I have since been blessed with nieces and nephews for whom I would not change a thing, yet I cannot resist retracing my steps, returning to the memory of that day, and meditating on the choices that led us here.
Written By Tesha
Dec. 23, 2022, 6:52 p.m.(2/7/1019 AR)
My eyepatch collection is every growing these days. My long term plan is definitely going to take longer, but the end results will be good.
Written By Alarissa
Dec. 23, 2022, 5:26 a.m.(2/6/1019 AR)
Relationship Note on Dagon
I pray for his soul, that he find peace he clearly did not find while he drew breath.
Written By Cerys
Dec. 22, 2022, 4:13 a.m.(2/4/1019 AR)
Never had I expected to meet one of Dimitri's cousins here, and yet, there she was: Lady Marena Inverno. What an interesting woman. She attended our wedding, and then his funeral.
The years pass like falling autumn leaves, and though my loss is still just as endlessly vast, it has become more... bearable.
My mother insists I remarry. It is my duty as a princess of House Velenosa. Is that not part of the reason I returned to Arx? Hrm.
The years pass like falling autumn leaves, and though my loss is still just as endlessly vast, it has become more... bearable.
My mother insists I remarry. It is my duty as a princess of House Velenosa. Is that not part of the reason I returned to Arx? Hrm.
Written By Cerys
Dec. 22, 2022, 4:05 a.m.(2/4/1019 AR)
I had the absolute pleasure of spending some time with Lady Mabelle of House Laurent.
What a font of inspiration, meeting someone so devoted to innovation and culture. Fascinating. I shall have to visit her salon as soon as it opens.
What a font of inspiration, meeting someone so devoted to innovation and culture. Fascinating. I shall have to visit her salon as soon as it opens.
Written By Cerys
Dec. 22, 2022, 3:58 a.m.(2/4/1019 AR)
In recent months, I have found myself focusing inwards, contemplating my place in the world, my duties, my obligations, and my path in life. I decided to return to the capital. Perhaps I will find the way forward here.
Written By Dacian
Dec. 21, 2022, 1:13 p.m.(2/3/1019 AR)
No matter what I tell myself, for business or for defense in war, the arrow that claimed Dagon Thrax was one that shed noble life blood, a prince's blood. Despite the treachery he committed, he was still born of this realm a Prince... and ultimately my arrow was his bane. I will sit for a time with this.
Written By Caspian
Dec. 21, 2022, 1:03 p.m.(2/3/1019 AR)
Relationship Note on Savio
Lord Savio, the poet, bright as the sun
He writes with passion, with grace and with fun
But when it comes to humor, he can't resist the bait
He'll pen a rhyme, no matter how late
He's a master of wit, a genius of glee
His funny poems bring smiles to you and me
We adore Savio, his talent and his charm
He's the one we turn to when we need to disarm
So here's to Savio, the brilliant and the silly
He writes with heart, and always makes us giddy
We love you, Savio, for your wit and your art
Keep writing those funny poems, straight from the heart
He writes with passion, with grace and with fun
But when it comes to humor, he can't resist the bait
He'll pen a rhyme, no matter how late
He's a master of wit, a genius of glee
His funny poems bring smiles to you and me
We adore Savio, his talent and his charm
He's the one we turn to when we need to disarm
So here's to Savio, the brilliant and the silly
He writes with heart, and always makes us giddy
We love you, Savio, for your wit and your art
Keep writing those funny poems, straight from the heart
Written By Savio
Dec. 21, 2022, 12:16 p.m.(2/3/1019 AR)
Relationship Note on Caspian
What is it you are doing here?
Do you imagine I can't see?
You think I'll write a poem
If you obliquely mention me?
You think that if you say my name
Somewhere in the Whites
I won't be able to resist --
Well you're absolutely right.
Do you imagine I can't see?
You think I'll write a poem
If you obliquely mention me?
You think that if you say my name
Somewhere in the Whites
I won't be able to resist --
Well you're absolutely right.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.