Written By Mydas
Oct. 2, 2018, 3:40 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Thena
The moment the Dominus dictates it, I imagine.
Written By Mydas
Oct. 2, 2018, 3:40 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Reigna
Marquessa, do remember the commoners are not children. While I'm as shocked as you are that I have to remind you of that fact, worst of all that it should come from me, but you are forgetting their ability to choose. They are not forced into the peerage, they must accept it.
Choice, as ever and always. Unless you imply that the latest addition took the title under duress, which is a troubling implication if accurate.
I would like to imagine that a fervant follower of Skald such as yourself would know better than to imply the above.
Choice, as ever and always. Unless you imply that the latest addition took the title under duress, which is a troubling implication if accurate.
I would like to imagine that a fervant follower of Skald such as yourself would know better than to imply the above.
Written By Miranda
Oct. 2, 2018, 3:37 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
I am not one to spend much time talking and debating the world and its mysteries.
Still, one has to wonder: Why are we here?
Still, one has to wonder: Why are we here?
Written By Thena
Oct. 2, 2018, 3:36 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
When do I get a coronet?
Written By Reigna
Oct. 2, 2018, 3:34 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Eleyna
Where was it I said all commoners are utterly unfit? If you actually read what I said, my words were that it is grossly unfair to them because it changes their lives, strips them of their personal freedoms that were not in question before and places a lifetime of expectations on their shoulders when they have not been trained from early childhood to handle.
Again, Baron Clement's elevation is an exception due to his service, I and my feelings for him, have nothing at all to do with what he earned.
Would you like to try again?
Again, Baron Clement's elevation is an exception due to his service, I and my feelings for him, have nothing at all to do with what he earned.
Would you like to try again?
Written By Miranda
Oct. 2, 2018, 3:30 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Domonico
I wonder if you're aware of the trust you engender.
My sword is yours, should you ever have need of it.
Thank you.
My sword is yours, should you ever have need of it.
Thank you.
Written By Eleyna
Oct. 2, 2018, 3:23 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Reigna
For the record, I am not well-acquainted with Baron Norwood but I have not said once that he didn't deserve his elevation. In fact, given all that has been said of him, I am quite sure that he is an honorable addition to the Peerage. I wouldn't because I refrain on making sweeping judgements as well as casting doubt on the decisions of my peers without knowing the circumstances at play.
But when one goes on, at length, regarding how commoners are utterly unfit for the nobility but then also make an exception for one's friend, well, I don't need to cast aspersions on your integrity. Your words themselves do them.
Perhaps, it might be more prudent to, as you yourself have done in regard to Baron Norwood, take each ennoblement on a case by case basis and judge it on the facts involved. That tends to make one look more even in their opinions and less biased.
But when one goes on, at length, regarding how commoners are utterly unfit for the nobility but then also make an exception for one's friend, well, I don't need to cast aspersions on your integrity. Your words themselves do them.
Perhaps, it might be more prudent to, as you yourself have done in regard to Baron Norwood, take each ennoblement on a case by case basis and judge it on the facts involved. That tends to make one look more even in their opinions and less biased.
Written By Mydas
Oct. 2, 2018, 3:22 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
There would be many more nobles among us if every one who has offered decades of honourable and noble service, even saving the life of their liege on many occasions, if we promoted to the ranks of the Peers such individuals.
To the surprise of none, I am of the middle path. The worthy should be rewarded, yet some traditions must be held if we are to maintain any cohesion as a people. Inevitably, this will further burden the ranks of the Peerage, yet as Marquessa Reigna suggested, there's plenty of land before we reach that point.
Complaining about the addition of new members among the Peers is pointless. Expressing doubt as to the qualities that led one to be thus promoted, is entirely natural. Just as one should expect their stalwart defense by their dear friends.
To the surprise of none, I am of the middle path. The worthy should be rewarded, yet some traditions must be held if we are to maintain any cohesion as a people. Inevitably, this will further burden the ranks of the Peerage, yet as Marquessa Reigna suggested, there's plenty of land before we reach that point.
Complaining about the addition of new members among the Peers is pointless. Expressing doubt as to the qualities that led one to be thus promoted, is entirely natural. Just as one should expect their stalwart defense by their dear friends.
Written By Gerard
Oct. 2, 2018, 3:06 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
I do not know the Baron Norwood Clement well, having run into him on only a handful of occasions over the years, and briefly at that, but he has not only served his house stalwartly for decades, but also saved his Liege's life on more than one occasion, has undertaken great and daring deeds on behalf of the Compact, and also, to my understanding, played a pivotal role in securing a long-disputed territory that he was given charge over.
In my humble suggestion, one should take all facts into consideration when attempting to compare points and situations. That is not to say I have a full understanding of the recent troubles, for I am hardly 'in the know' of political matters.
In my humble suggestion, one should take all facts into consideration when attempting to compare points and situations. That is not to say I have a full understanding of the recent troubles, for I am hardly 'in the know' of political matters.
Written By Reigna
Oct. 2, 2018, 2:55 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Eleyna
It has absolutely nothing at all to do with my friendship with Baron Clement and everything to do with my respect for his decades of loyal and noble service to House Laurent. As I said.
But please, I do invite you to further cast shade upon my integrity.
But please, I do invite you to further cast shade upon my integrity.
Written By Delilah
Oct. 2, 2018, 2:14 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
I cannot wait for the autumn to progress over Arx. Who doesn't appreciate the scent of woodsmoke on the air and the sharp blade of crispness that edges every beautiful day? Sunshine lancing through the dappled raiment of the trees, their canopies making one last gaudy showing from all nature's finest shades: rubies and garnets thrown over a cloak of gold or coat of bronze, adornments of precious copper and strings of topaz, citrine, and carnelian brought out for a final hurrah before the city surrenders fully to the climes of winter.
The very air sings with the promise of change, and the currents shift around us in the most subtle fashion. More babes born in these weeks, and everywhere I see people making their preparations for the coming months. Stock laid in, grand plans drawn up, even loads of firewood conveyed through the streets to the great manors and small flats down every street. The Gilded Page has become more a sanctuary than ever, at least after partaking of tea, mulled cider, and the odd coffee in one of the fine establishments. Here are the rhythms of our hours to come, awash in good conversation and the crackling logs in a hearth, leaving rooms illuminated in the shades of antique gold.
And yet to reach that, we have to cross a great river. For all those who put aside the harvest and ready themselves with silk and paints, others polish their armour and sharpen their blades. They check their tack, their ropes, their other plans built not on a survey of the larder but a map of the landscape or the tides, considering what the horizon holds. They are brave, who ready themselves. I cannot help but feel indolent and languid beside that, charmed too much by half for the stirrings of a fleeting beauty.
The very air sings with the promise of change, and the currents shift around us in the most subtle fashion. More babes born in these weeks, and everywhere I see people making their preparations for the coming months. Stock laid in, grand plans drawn up, even loads of firewood conveyed through the streets to the great manors and small flats down every street. The Gilded Page has become more a sanctuary than ever, at least after partaking of tea, mulled cider, and the odd coffee in one of the fine establishments. Here are the rhythms of our hours to come, awash in good conversation and the crackling logs in a hearth, leaving rooms illuminated in the shades of antique gold.
And yet to reach that, we have to cross a great river. For all those who put aside the harvest and ready themselves with silk and paints, others polish their armour and sharpen their blades. They check their tack, their ropes, their other plans built not on a survey of the larder but a map of the landscape or the tides, considering what the horizon holds. They are brave, who ready themselves. I cannot help but feel indolent and languid beside that, charmed too much by half for the stirrings of a fleeting beauty.
Written By Eleyna
Oct. 2, 2018, 1:48 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
It amuses me how people always make exceptions to their 'strongly held beliefs' for their friends.
Written By Reigna
Oct. 2, 2018, 1:44 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
It has been mentioned to me that my recent words presented a rather general sweeping nature of my opinion on the topic of commoner elevations.
I am, in general, opposed to the practice. But that does not mean there are not worthy exceptions. Exceptions, as they say, prove the rule.
I would like to be very clear that one such exception, was the recent elevation of Baron Norwood Clement. I believe this is an instance in which someone has steadfastly shown uncommon dignity and service to House Laurent for decades; including repeatedly saving the life of its Duke and former heir, Lady Jael Laurent. Baron Norwood has time an again, proven his loyalty, responsibility, dignity and honor and I cannot think of a better person to be elevated to Baron.
I am, in general, opposed to the practice. But that does not mean there are not worthy exceptions. Exceptions, as they say, prove the rule.
I would like to be very clear that one such exception, was the recent elevation of Baron Norwood Clement. I believe this is an instance in which someone has steadfastly shown uncommon dignity and service to House Laurent for decades; including repeatedly saving the life of its Duke and former heir, Lady Jael Laurent. Baron Norwood has time an again, proven his loyalty, responsibility, dignity and honor and I cannot think of a better person to be elevated to Baron.
Written By Reigna
Oct. 2, 2018, 12:54 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
It has been several days since the announcement and I have given considerable thought to the situation with House Blackwood.
I think, perhaps, there is a brewing crisis in regards to the increasingly commonplace elevation of commoners into the Peerage. Please understand this is not a criticism of Eilonwy Thunderoak. I have a deep respect for her as a healer after working with her during the battle of Stormwall. But the fact of the matter is... to place her in charge of House Blackwood is not only a dire and inconceivable slight against the fallen Marquis' child Lady Ysbail Blackwood, or his aunt, Lady Barbrey, but it is bordering on cruel to Eilonwy.
Our society is built on a covenant between its people, our gods and our monarchy. The Peerage are who they are because they undertook the solemn responsibility to sacrifice their personal freedoms in order to best serve the people they are sworn to provide for, support and protect. A noble is raised to understand that their life is not their own. They do not get to choose who they marry, where they go or what they do. Their pride must often be set aside for the greater good of their people. You cannot simply give into petty feuds when doing so can cause damage to your ability to import necessary supplies from someone who has angered you. Being a noble is sacrifice. Or it damn well *should* be. If it is not? You are doing it wrong. To foist this heavy responsibility on a person who has not been brought up with this foundational understanding of what is expected of them, to lay that burden on their shoulders with no warning or preparation is *cruel*. You are taking away freedoms that they have had their whole life. You are suddenly telling them that their life is not their own. Those of us born to the noble families have known this from the beginning. It was drilled into us. Accepted.
We do these things because in surrendering our personal freedoms, we give others the opportunity to live their lives. It is not a service provided without benefit. We live lives of wealth and comfort, we get access to outstanding educations and opportunities to do things that might be considered quite frivolous to someone else.
More and more often of late I have seen those of the Peerage showing a marked disregard for the values and traditions we should be upholding. They flaunt marriages of love as if this is a great virtue instead of the selfishness that it truly is. Perhaps it stems from overly abundant families with too many children, so that the responsibilities required of the family are handled by a few and the rest are driftless, unnecessary in the management of the lands and so they feel there is no reason to uphold the dignity and responsibilities of their station? I wonder where their ambition and sense of service has fled. Are we not surrounded by those who are holding onto our lands illegally? Is there not work to be done to solidify our hold on the lands we recognize as belonging to the Compact and bringing law and order to the furthest reaches of Arvum? Why not send Cadet branches out to deal with those who have lost their way? Return them to the fold of the Compact, remind them of the proper worship of the gods, and if they prove intractable demon-worshipers, protect the land from them, and in turn, those Cadet branches can be reborn into new Houses to bolster our ranks. Retake what was ours and what has fallen away due to the mistakes of the past.
Let me be clear, in this I mean wholly demon-worshipers, *not* shamans, as those are wholly different things and should *not* be conflated or confused. I think we can all agree that anyone who willingly serves the Abyss will not be missed. In my experiences in the Shadowood, many Shav'arvani are actually followers of the Pantheon, though they frequently have had some drift in belief and can, and should, be gently guided back to the established beliefs.
I am worried that that spirit of service is being erased. That there are more and more born to the Peerage that only see the entitlement rather than the sacrifice.
I think, perhaps, there is a brewing crisis in regards to the increasingly commonplace elevation of commoners into the Peerage. Please understand this is not a criticism of Eilonwy Thunderoak. I have a deep respect for her as a healer after working with her during the battle of Stormwall. But the fact of the matter is... to place her in charge of House Blackwood is not only a dire and inconceivable slight against the fallen Marquis' child Lady Ysbail Blackwood, or his aunt, Lady Barbrey, but it is bordering on cruel to Eilonwy.
Our society is built on a covenant between its people, our gods and our monarchy. The Peerage are who they are because they undertook the solemn responsibility to sacrifice their personal freedoms in order to best serve the people they are sworn to provide for, support and protect. A noble is raised to understand that their life is not their own. They do not get to choose who they marry, where they go or what they do. Their pride must often be set aside for the greater good of their people. You cannot simply give into petty feuds when doing so can cause damage to your ability to import necessary supplies from someone who has angered you. Being a noble is sacrifice. Or it damn well *should* be. If it is not? You are doing it wrong. To foist this heavy responsibility on a person who has not been brought up with this foundational understanding of what is expected of them, to lay that burden on their shoulders with no warning or preparation is *cruel*. You are taking away freedoms that they have had their whole life. You are suddenly telling them that their life is not their own. Those of us born to the noble families have known this from the beginning. It was drilled into us. Accepted.
We do these things because in surrendering our personal freedoms, we give others the opportunity to live their lives. It is not a service provided without benefit. We live lives of wealth and comfort, we get access to outstanding educations and opportunities to do things that might be considered quite frivolous to someone else.
More and more often of late I have seen those of the Peerage showing a marked disregard for the values and traditions we should be upholding. They flaunt marriages of love as if this is a great virtue instead of the selfishness that it truly is. Perhaps it stems from overly abundant families with too many children, so that the responsibilities required of the family are handled by a few and the rest are driftless, unnecessary in the management of the lands and so they feel there is no reason to uphold the dignity and responsibilities of their station? I wonder where their ambition and sense of service has fled. Are we not surrounded by those who are holding onto our lands illegally? Is there not work to be done to solidify our hold on the lands we recognize as belonging to the Compact and bringing law and order to the furthest reaches of Arvum? Why not send Cadet branches out to deal with those who have lost their way? Return them to the fold of the Compact, remind them of the proper worship of the gods, and if they prove intractable demon-worshipers, protect the land from them, and in turn, those Cadet branches can be reborn into new Houses to bolster our ranks. Retake what was ours and what has fallen away due to the mistakes of the past.
Let me be clear, in this I mean wholly demon-worshipers, *not* shamans, as those are wholly different things and should *not* be conflated or confused. I think we can all agree that anyone who willingly serves the Abyss will not be missed. In my experiences in the Shadowood, many Shav'arvani are actually followers of the Pantheon, though they frequently have had some drift in belief and can, and should, be gently guided back to the established beliefs.
I am worried that that spirit of service is being erased. That there are more and more born to the Peerage that only see the entitlement rather than the sacrifice.
Written By Harlex
Oct. 2, 2018, 12:29 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Berenice
She earned them, I would say.
You have to appreciate such a troublemaker, princess.
You have to appreciate such a troublemaker, princess.
Written By Berenice
Oct. 2, 2018, 12:25 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Harlex
That is so many words written about a _sheep_.
Written By Harlex
Oct. 2, 2018, 10:14 a.m.(9/15/1009 AR)
About three-four years ago I had come to the pastoral lands not far from Acorn Hill. This is where I first heard the story and saw it's conclusion.
See, on the Rothic Farm a ewe foaled a lamb with a somewhat unique wool pattern that for all intents and purpose resembled a flowering petunia--so thus she was called. Now, Petunia and her mother went to summer pasture further north and then returned to the Rothic place and since Petunia was a good-sized ewe and had a distinctive pattern, old Rothic got the notion to keep her as a marker. She stood out.
When you are running flocks as large as a couple hundred on rough range, you have to have what they call on the farmstead 'markers'. This is so the herdsman can get a rough count. You have one for each hundred sometimes in larger flocks, every fifty in small.
Rothic made sure that Petunia, being such a stunning creature, was bred. She had a lamb, although not one as distinct. Petunia, from what I am told, hated her lamb. The usual treatment for this is to keep them together until they bond. Eventually she accepted the baby and both went up north a little ways for the summer and everything was fine.
Well, the second year Rothic bred Petunia again and she had a lamb and she loved it and so went north /again/. Along toward the end of Summer, Rothic was up checking on his herders when one of them told him that Petunia was gone a couple of nights that week, but was back now. Rothic was an old hand at this and he knew a rogue sheep; how they could lead others astray. So he ordered one of his hands to butcher her next chance he got and the lamb, too, and that he could have the meat for his efforts. Now, I have more sympathy for animals than I do people, so at this juncture I was a little raw on this Rothic fellow.
The way it was told was that the herder, perhaps more to my inclination than Rothic, went to butcher Petunia and her lamb and the old girl cut out and caused a bunch of sheep to tag along with her and Rothic, furious, told him that next he sees her to put an arrow between her eyes. Perhaps for dramatic flare, its told that Rothic purchased a Oathland steel crossbow special for the execution. It doesn't matter much for what happened next.
See. A few nights later, Garthen (another sheep-raiser some miles from Rothic), sent a messenger to Rothic saying that he had a sheep with his brand on it and she was clearly a marker by the unusual pattern of her wool. It is said, by those in attendance, that Rothic whispered only one word when he read that missive, "Petunia."
He sent a message back with simple instructions. "You do me a great kindness by executing that sheep and her lamb and that you may keep wool and meat both." Garthen wrote back that he did not like the idea and that she had brought, as well, a whole brigade of Rothic's outlaw strays with her and he better ride out anyway. So Rothic, with his crossbow, cut for the Garthen pasture to deal with the matter himself.
But by the bright morning Garthen came out of his cottage with a brew of coffee and said that the renegade had gone and that she had taken some of /Garthen's/ sheep now. She must have 'had the foresight of a prophet' for she had gotten away before he could wrangle her and the others.
Now, this did not become an isolated incident. It happened three more times. Each time a fellow would send a message to Rothic and Rothic would ride out like a vengeful spirit and come upon nothing but the sob story of another herder who lost Petunia and her band of outlaws. They had become to call her, in that small region, The Bandit Queen.
This is where I came in and the story was told to me while I sat on the porch with the family kind enough to harbor such a disreputable swordsman. I think I laughed a good deal which was a rare occasion back then. But one morning we sat out there and I watched the wife of the husbandman sweep the coming autumn from the doorway, that a guard captain rode by with a guard and asked if I was able to help them with an issue. It seems that a prodigal was causing a fuss at one of the pastures. I don't know how they heard that I was some shav expert but I went anyway, trouble always knew how to tug at my hand. We rode up and found the fellow seated on the ground, weeping, with a spear laid across his lap.
Gods above, I don't know what I would have thought if I hadn't heard the story; but nearby hitched to a spike in the ground was none other than the Bandit Queen herself. The Guard Captain knew, his guard knew, and because I heard it just the other night; I knew too. This prodigal had caught her and he wept because he knew what had to be done. And by his Spirits, he was loathed to be a legend-killer.
None of them wanted to be the local who killed the Bandit Queen. Everyone loves a good outlaw. But I was a mercenary, just passing through, and they looked to me then and offered me a thousand silver to do the deed. I have done wickeder deeds for much less. I felt pensive about it but I drew my sword. The Guard I remember she said, "Are you really going to do that?"
And I responded in my most resolute voice, "It has got to be done--she is costing these folks coin and time that they don't have." And I put on my most reluctant performance which, I think for not being much of a an actor or liar, was pretty damn fine. They asked about the lamb then and I said, as coldly, "It'll have to go too."
They stood there, not a breath between them, as I approached the Bandit Queen...
Then.
It didn't take long for the prodigal and I to safely tie Petunia and her lamb together and the fellow took them like dogs on a leash. He said something that I couldn't understand and the Guard Captain translated, "He won't take any money. But I told him I would bring him up some food stuffs and a bottle of whisky for his trouble." I said, "You had better keep that Bandit Queen locked up tight, or every herdsman in the Oathlands is going to be after you. Especially Rothic."
The prodigal must have understood me. He grinned a little. He pulled at the leash and headed toward the woods where he kept his small, modest hut. We mounted up and the Guard appeared skeptical of all this and asked if she would not get loose again and this would all begin once more. I remember watching them vanish into the treeline. Unhurried, bleating lost among the hearty oaks.
"Maybe her wandering days are over." I said. "Kind like us, we only get caught when we wish it."
I came here to write some tragically notion about impending battle. But I have been at this for thirteen years and what is true then will always be true; either my luck will hold or not. Instead, I would commit to record this particular story.
I think it is a fine one.
See, on the Rothic Farm a ewe foaled a lamb with a somewhat unique wool pattern that for all intents and purpose resembled a flowering petunia--so thus she was called. Now, Petunia and her mother went to summer pasture further north and then returned to the Rothic place and since Petunia was a good-sized ewe and had a distinctive pattern, old Rothic got the notion to keep her as a marker. She stood out.
When you are running flocks as large as a couple hundred on rough range, you have to have what they call on the farmstead 'markers'. This is so the herdsman can get a rough count. You have one for each hundred sometimes in larger flocks, every fifty in small.
Rothic made sure that Petunia, being such a stunning creature, was bred. She had a lamb, although not one as distinct. Petunia, from what I am told, hated her lamb. The usual treatment for this is to keep them together until they bond. Eventually she accepted the baby and both went up north a little ways for the summer and everything was fine.
Well, the second year Rothic bred Petunia again and she had a lamb and she loved it and so went north /again/. Along toward the end of Summer, Rothic was up checking on his herders when one of them told him that Petunia was gone a couple of nights that week, but was back now. Rothic was an old hand at this and he knew a rogue sheep; how they could lead others astray. So he ordered one of his hands to butcher her next chance he got and the lamb, too, and that he could have the meat for his efforts. Now, I have more sympathy for animals than I do people, so at this juncture I was a little raw on this Rothic fellow.
The way it was told was that the herder, perhaps more to my inclination than Rothic, went to butcher Petunia and her lamb and the old girl cut out and caused a bunch of sheep to tag along with her and Rothic, furious, told him that next he sees her to put an arrow between her eyes. Perhaps for dramatic flare, its told that Rothic purchased a Oathland steel crossbow special for the execution. It doesn't matter much for what happened next.
See. A few nights later, Garthen (another sheep-raiser some miles from Rothic), sent a messenger to Rothic saying that he had a sheep with his brand on it and she was clearly a marker by the unusual pattern of her wool. It is said, by those in attendance, that Rothic whispered only one word when he read that missive, "Petunia."
He sent a message back with simple instructions. "You do me a great kindness by executing that sheep and her lamb and that you may keep wool and meat both." Garthen wrote back that he did not like the idea and that she had brought, as well, a whole brigade of Rothic's outlaw strays with her and he better ride out anyway. So Rothic, with his crossbow, cut for the Garthen pasture to deal with the matter himself.
But by the bright morning Garthen came out of his cottage with a brew of coffee and said that the renegade had gone and that she had taken some of /Garthen's/ sheep now. She must have 'had the foresight of a prophet' for she had gotten away before he could wrangle her and the others.
Now, this did not become an isolated incident. It happened three more times. Each time a fellow would send a message to Rothic and Rothic would ride out like a vengeful spirit and come upon nothing but the sob story of another herder who lost Petunia and her band of outlaws. They had become to call her, in that small region, The Bandit Queen.
This is where I came in and the story was told to me while I sat on the porch with the family kind enough to harbor such a disreputable swordsman. I think I laughed a good deal which was a rare occasion back then. But one morning we sat out there and I watched the wife of the husbandman sweep the coming autumn from the doorway, that a guard captain rode by with a guard and asked if I was able to help them with an issue. It seems that a prodigal was causing a fuss at one of the pastures. I don't know how they heard that I was some shav expert but I went anyway, trouble always knew how to tug at my hand. We rode up and found the fellow seated on the ground, weeping, with a spear laid across his lap.
Gods above, I don't know what I would have thought if I hadn't heard the story; but nearby hitched to a spike in the ground was none other than the Bandit Queen herself. The Guard Captain knew, his guard knew, and because I heard it just the other night; I knew too. This prodigal had caught her and he wept because he knew what had to be done. And by his Spirits, he was loathed to be a legend-killer.
None of them wanted to be the local who killed the Bandit Queen. Everyone loves a good outlaw. But I was a mercenary, just passing through, and they looked to me then and offered me a thousand silver to do the deed. I have done wickeder deeds for much less. I felt pensive about it but I drew my sword. The Guard I remember she said, "Are you really going to do that?"
And I responded in my most resolute voice, "It has got to be done--she is costing these folks coin and time that they don't have." And I put on my most reluctant performance which, I think for not being much of a an actor or liar, was pretty damn fine. They asked about the lamb then and I said, as coldly, "It'll have to go too."
They stood there, not a breath between them, as I approached the Bandit Queen...
Then.
It didn't take long for the prodigal and I to safely tie Petunia and her lamb together and the fellow took them like dogs on a leash. He said something that I couldn't understand and the Guard Captain translated, "He won't take any money. But I told him I would bring him up some food stuffs and a bottle of whisky for his trouble." I said, "You had better keep that Bandit Queen locked up tight, or every herdsman in the Oathlands is going to be after you. Especially Rothic."
The prodigal must have understood me. He grinned a little. He pulled at the leash and headed toward the woods where he kept his small, modest hut. We mounted up and the Guard appeared skeptical of all this and asked if she would not get loose again and this would all begin once more. I remember watching them vanish into the treeline. Unhurried, bleating lost among the hearty oaks.
"Maybe her wandering days are over." I said. "Kind like us, we only get caught when we wish it."
I came here to write some tragically notion about impending battle. But I have been at this for thirteen years and what is true then will always be true; either my luck will hold or not. Instead, I would commit to record this particular story.
I think it is a fine one.
Written By Perronne
Oct. 2, 2018, 9:35 a.m.(9/15/1009 AR)
As I was filing this journal, the Scholar I handed it too nicely flagged me down and reminded me, with a rather devious grin, that it might help people if I got the name of my shop correct.
It is Storied Treasures. Not Treasured Stories.
In my defense, I hate mornings! I think I'm going to go hide from Vellichor's laughter, now.
It is Storied Treasures. Not Treasured Stories.
In my defense, I hate mornings! I think I'm going to go hide from Vellichor's laughter, now.
Written By Perronne
Oct. 2, 2018, 9:07 a.m.(9/15/1009 AR)
Fabric is important.
I mean, obviously. We're not savages - and I don't think even savages typically go around nude, even if it would show off the tattoos a bit better. But! Not the point. What I mean is that when someone crows about a purchase of fabric, or precious stones, or pastries, or reasonably priced antiques (do consider Storied Treasures for your antique needs!), then it says a couple of things. One, trade routes are open. That's really important! Not just so merchants don't starve to death, which I am generally in favor of, but also because the same roads and ship routes which bring that fancy fabric bring food to Arx, and all the other cities of the Compact. The second thing is says is that we're okay. We can spend time and money and thought on good things.
That's really important! Markets run as much on confidence as fact, and in the Compact, all of us look to the nobility, especially, to guide how afraid we should be, and whether we can feel confident trading, or whether we need to be laying in supplies and buttoning up defenses. When the nobility is afraid and talking about how they're worried about dying and destruction and DOOM, and they're the ones with the armies and the fancy swords and the castles and the thick-walled keeps, then those of us down here know that we need to be TERRIFIED. Because our protectors aren't sure they can pull this off, whatever 'this' is. That means lots and lots of regular people without fancy swords and keeps and armies are about to die, and we're usually not happy about it! Which means a lot of different economic things happen, none of them really all that good - you can have runs on basic food, driving the price up to the point where the poor can't afford it, you can get instability in the streets, rise in theft, and people choosing to leave areas of threat to try and find safety. Which both drains resources from where they WERE, but also strains resources where they GO, and sometimes those people end up becoming bandits out of necessity, or are attacked or driven away from where they try to settle. Which also disrupts trade and markets, and makes it more dangerous for merchants to travel from place to place.
It's good, economically speaking, for the nobility to have a sense of perspective, and make sure to keep things as normal as possible whenever possible! Which means, yes, talking about the awesome fabric you bought, the parties you went to, the fantastic antiques you purchased from Treasured Stories (located near the Blackrose Theatre!), and so forth. As long as you do, then my businesses run the way they are supposed to run, and my potential customers don't start fleeing for the hills or preparing for the end of the world.
I mean, obviously. We're not savages - and I don't think even savages typically go around nude, even if it would show off the tattoos a bit better. But! Not the point. What I mean is that when someone crows about a purchase of fabric, or precious stones, or pastries, or reasonably priced antiques (do consider Storied Treasures for your antique needs!), then it says a couple of things. One, trade routes are open. That's really important! Not just so merchants don't starve to death, which I am generally in favor of, but also because the same roads and ship routes which bring that fancy fabric bring food to Arx, and all the other cities of the Compact. The second thing is says is that we're okay. We can spend time and money and thought on good things.
That's really important! Markets run as much on confidence as fact, and in the Compact, all of us look to the nobility, especially, to guide how afraid we should be, and whether we can feel confident trading, or whether we need to be laying in supplies and buttoning up defenses. When the nobility is afraid and talking about how they're worried about dying and destruction and DOOM, and they're the ones with the armies and the fancy swords and the castles and the thick-walled keeps, then those of us down here know that we need to be TERRIFIED. Because our protectors aren't sure they can pull this off, whatever 'this' is. That means lots and lots of regular people without fancy swords and keeps and armies are about to die, and we're usually not happy about it! Which means a lot of different economic things happen, none of them really all that good - you can have runs on basic food, driving the price up to the point where the poor can't afford it, you can get instability in the streets, rise in theft, and people choosing to leave areas of threat to try and find safety. Which both drains resources from where they WERE, but also strains resources where they GO, and sometimes those people end up becoming bandits out of necessity, or are attacked or driven away from where they try to settle. Which also disrupts trade and markets, and makes it more dangerous for merchants to travel from place to place.
It's good, economically speaking, for the nobility to have a sense of perspective, and make sure to keep things as normal as possible whenever possible! Which means, yes, talking about the awesome fabric you bought, the parties you went to, the fantastic antiques you purchased from Treasured Stories (located near the Blackrose Theatre!), and so forth. As long as you do, then my businesses run the way they are supposed to run, and my potential customers don't start fleeing for the hills or preparing for the end of the world.
Written By Khanne
Oct. 2, 2018, 8:52 a.m.(9/15/1009 AR)
So... I have some bolts of umbra. I won them, cuz I am sort of smart I guess, but, I got second place, so only somewhat smart.
I'm not exactly known for wearing dark colors though. Well, not this dark. So I am hoping there is a tailor out there, or even someone who likes to design clothing but not make the gowns themselves, who has some sort of inspiration in regards to how I could wear umbra in a design and style that, you know... fits me.
If you are that person, please send a messenger with a note and I will gladly work out the details with you.
I'm not exactly known for wearing dark colors though. Well, not this dark. So I am hoping there is a tailor out there, or even someone who likes to design clothing but not make the gowns themselves, who has some sort of inspiration in regards to how I could wear umbra in a design and style that, you know... fits me.
If you are that person, please send a messenger with a note and I will gladly work out the details with you.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.