Written By Delilah
July 11, 2020, 8:36 p.m.(8/20/1013 AR)
The other is the Compact, a stunning land of knights and Godsworn, lords and ladies, heirloom swords and mighty heroes, where the seas and snows and mountains mark the end of our good king's grasp and the civilized society prides itself on arranging itself with moral and gentlemanly purpose -- to say naught of what those people out in the wilds or the woods or the lowers are doing -- and where lovely, witty people cross words and rarely swords over gowns and good boots, everyone has twins, and the fate of the nation is properly resolved over milk in the Oathlands, wine near everywhere else, without a dagger to be seen.
Written By Delilah
July 11, 2020, 8:33 p.m.(8/20/1013 AR)
We, sometimes, live in a story about a border war. Specifically a border war that happens to be in precisely the same place, precisely the same nation. One of them is the Compact, a monarchy of fractious fealties whose power on the world stage is rising, where uncertainty, ambition, and curiosity are rising, where the population is opening its eyes collectively to the world beyond the nearest community to borders over the sea so suddenly that it's making a few people nsotalgic for the days when all they needed to know and study was the name of the nearest county and its family.
Written By Magnus
July 11, 2020, 5:15 p.m.(8/20/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Alecstazi
And lo, the skalds did tell the tales of The Balmy Prince.
I will teach my children these stories.
I will teach my children these stories.
Written By Gwenna
July 11, 2020, 4:54 p.m.(8/20/1013 AR)
I had a lovely small dinner with Lorenzo and Kenjay this evening in the villa. We caught up on a bit of history, talked about the things we're doing, and our hopeful plans for the future. So much we can't truly plan for, as there is surely as much mystery to the future as not. Still, sitting together over a meal is one of those small joys that doesn't happen often enough these days. I'm of a mind to try to plan a true family dinner sometime soon actually. It's nice to reconnect and catch-up when time allows. The trouble is always finding that time, I suppose.
Written By Piccola
July 11, 2020, 3:35 p.m.(8/20/1013 AR)
We are not born for ourselves alone, but for our nation and our friends. As everything which a nation produces is for the benefit of its people, so to is everyone born to the wealth of the nation. Consequently, we should as much serve ourselves as we do others, and to interchange acts of giving and kindness, by our skill, our industry, and our talents, thus creating a foundation on which the Compact may rest forever.
Written By Khanne
July 11, 2020, 11:42 a.m.(8/20/1013 AR)
How does time get away from me so easily? I forgot a birthday.... just... completely forgot...
.... and it was my own.
Belated birthday drinks on me at the Spirits (for today only, probably)!
.... and it was my own.
Belated birthday drinks on me at the Spirits (for today only, probably)!
Written By Sydney
July 11, 2020, 10:31 a.m.(8/19/1013 AR)
Things worth knowing from The Murder:
* Be frightened of any alcohol that smells like lemons.
* If you ask for your tea with 'Extra Limerance', I don't think it actually helps, it just makes it taste worse.
* I punched Raja Cullers's paramour in his favorite spleen - whoops. Looks like he walked it off well enough if she hadn't heard about it.
* Svana Grayhope throws a mean snake, and makes all the men weep.
* Samira Culler is an accomplished artist and presents wonderful arguments for being an aunt. Wish I met the basic qualifications. Also, what is that drawing?
* There are no other bartenders at the Murder, only varying degrees of Tanith, from worst to best.
* Apollo Oakwood ties an excellent braid, and is wasted on lesser craft.
* Be frightened of any alcohol that smells like lemons.
* If you ask for your tea with 'Extra Limerance', I don't think it actually helps, it just makes it taste worse.
* I punched Raja Cullers's paramour in his favorite spleen - whoops. Looks like he walked it off well enough if she hadn't heard about it.
* Svana Grayhope throws a mean snake, and makes all the men weep.
* Samira Culler is an accomplished artist and presents wonderful arguments for being an aunt. Wish I met the basic qualifications. Also, what is that drawing?
* There are no other bartenders at the Murder, only varying degrees of Tanith, from worst to best.
* Apollo Oakwood ties an excellent braid, and is wasted on lesser craft.
Written By Wylla
July 11, 2020, 10:26 a.m.(8/19/1013 AR)
I have been spending many an hour in the Shrine of Jayus since my return to Arx, giving counsel and blessings to those who need either. Though it is a wonderful edifice, the time when it must be torn down and the building to begin anew is drawing ever closer.
I've watched the faithful contribute to its walls to the point they're very nearly finished in places. One is so high, in fact, that a kindly stone mason had to shore it up for it had begun to sag. I think this year, more care shall go to the foundation and frame of the shrine, it will have to be sturdy and strong to bear the many hopes and dreams of the people of Arvum.
I've also watched others paint their stones and add them to the pile, but soon those too shall all be cleared away. A new story must be written.
I've watched the faithful contribute to its walls to the point they're very nearly finished in places. One is so high, in fact, that a kindly stone mason had to shore it up for it had begun to sag. I think this year, more care shall go to the foundation and frame of the shrine, it will have to be sturdy and strong to bear the many hopes and dreams of the people of Arvum.
I've also watched others paint their stones and add them to the pile, but soon those too shall all be cleared away. A new story must be written.
Written By Oswyn
July 11, 2020, 7:05 a.m.(8/19/1013 AR)
I'm settling back into life in Arx well after my time spent teaching at Twinbridge. Shopkeeping is a delight. I had not quite forgotten the appeal of the rows of quills and inks and blank books and listening to the world go by from the counter as I work, catching glimpses through the open door.
And the people! While Twinbridge had no shortage of students, the passersby who stop at Scribing Supplies in Arx are many and varied. Subjects of conversation are similarly diverse. Someone often emerges having learned something new. Often that person is me.
Milton has done an excellent job with the shop in my absence and I am very grateful to him and his hard work. The shop has kept people supplied with affordable wares and will continue to do so. I look forward to catching up with old friends and making new ones.
And the people! While Twinbridge had no shortage of students, the passersby who stop at Scribing Supplies in Arx are many and varied. Subjects of conversation are similarly diverse. Someone often emerges having learned something new. Often that person is me.
Milton has done an excellent job with the shop in my absence and I am very grateful to him and his hard work. The shop has kept people supplied with affordable wares and will continue to do so. I look forward to catching up with old friends and making new ones.
Written By Ravna
July 10, 2020, 10:28 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
If all weapons were wood, could you? Do you think you would?
Alacrite blades! Blades of Lore! Are they sharp - or is the mind? Both?
A three-handed man with four arms walks down the street, a boy with fresh sweets stops him and says, "Hey wow, that's neat! Freak." The man grins a grin so grinny it nearly splits his face, then pats the boy on the head - before walking by. Later the boy goes home to tell the story, and discovers missing those treats. B-bamboozled.
Woe be not the eye that is gone, woe be the eye too slow, too fogged. The eye can move and catch things quicker than a breath; but hands can move even quicker yet.
So what is better: The Blade or the Mind? If one has only a blade then a tree are they, dumb, tall, and only in the way. Oh! But a sharp mind! Brilliant, sharp, clean until unsheathed! Now THAT is a weapon, to truly treasure, THAT is a weapon to keep ready and never sheathe.
Alacrite blades! Blades of Lore! Are they sharp - or is the mind? Both?
A three-handed man with four arms walks down the street, a boy with fresh sweets stops him and says, "Hey wow, that's neat! Freak." The man grins a grin so grinny it nearly splits his face, then pats the boy on the head - before walking by. Later the boy goes home to tell the story, and discovers missing those treats. B-bamboozled.
Woe be not the eye that is gone, woe be the eye too slow, too fogged. The eye can move and catch things quicker than a breath; but hands can move even quicker yet.
So what is better: The Blade or the Mind? If one has only a blade then a tree are they, dumb, tall, and only in the way. Oh! But a sharp mind! Brilliant, sharp, clean until unsheathed! Now THAT is a weapon, to truly treasure, THAT is a weapon to keep ready and never sheathe.
Written By Piccola
July 10, 2020, 8:26 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
A House that perseveres in war beyond a certain limit ought to know the consequences. Others with less pertinacity have been wiped out of existence. Survive and persevere. That is the focus of war.
My knowledge of pain taught me not to be afraid. And just as in dueling when you must concentrate on your enemy's cheek, so, too, in war. You cannot waste time on feinting and sidestepping. You must decide on your target and go in.
For our enemies, war they have chosen. Other simpler remedies were within their choice. They wanted war, and I say let us give them all they want; not a word of argument, not a sign of let up, no cave in till we are destroyed or they are.
My knowledge of pain taught me not to be afraid. And just as in dueling when you must concentrate on your enemy's cheek, so, too, in war. You cannot waste time on feinting and sidestepping. You must decide on your target and go in.
For our enemies, war they have chosen. Other simpler remedies were within their choice. They wanted war, and I say let us give them all they want; not a word of argument, not a sign of let up, no cave in till we are destroyed or they are.
Written By Kastelon
July 10, 2020, 5:53 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
Lady Thea Malvici has gifted me a milking cow. It is the kindest gift I have received since the Marquessa gave me this signet ring. And Apollo his swimming shorts.
I will take this opportunity to extend my public thanks to all three...
And offer a cup of fresh milk to anyone who might come across this journal. You may find me on the Keaton grounds with my trusty cow.
I will take this opportunity to extend my public thanks to all three...
And offer a cup of fresh milk to anyone who might come across this journal. You may find me on the Keaton grounds with my trusty cow.
Written By Kaia
July 10, 2020, 4:56 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
Just a couple of days ago little Arsenia Malvici, the second of her name, arrived to us in this world. Oh, and, how blessed are we in Malvici and Bisland to have her. She has my eyes (those piercing blue-grey eyes), yet, aside from that and being a lady, she's the living picture of her father. My beloved Martino and I are truly overjoyed now that she's here with us.
We are so thankful to our peers, our allies, friends and family for their kind well-wishes and delightful, little and grand, gifts. The Suite has never been more full of flowers than today. How wonderful! Reminds me a bit of Pridehall, to be surrounded by so much gorgeous flora.
But, that is not all! It has only been a few days and the little one already has both a nickname and a title. Little 'Nia' after having baptized her darling father's new and shiny brocade with milky fluids, and being loud as bell, has earned the title of 'The Screamer of Southport'. May her loud commanding voice resonate with the Malvici troops on the coming years.
We are so thankful to our peers, our allies, friends and family for their kind well-wishes and delightful, little and grand, gifts. The Suite has never been more full of flowers than today. How wonderful! Reminds me a bit of Pridehall, to be surrounded by so much gorgeous flora.
But, that is not all! It has only been a few days and the little one already has both a nickname and a title. Little 'Nia' after having baptized her darling father's new and shiny brocade with milky fluids, and being loud as bell, has earned the title of 'The Screamer of Southport'. May her loud commanding voice resonate with the Malvici troops on the coming years.
Written By Lys
July 10, 2020, 12:21 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
I dreamt of the well again. I sat on the lip of it, and watched as others came to it and dipped their cups in. They drank deep and glowed with satisfaction. I watched as each was healed of grievous wounds. I watched as the lame drank and could walk away. I watched as the old grew young once more. I watched as the dead were brought back to life.
But when I dipped my own cup into the well the water turned to ash in my mouth.
But when I dipped my own cup into the well the water turned to ash in my mouth.
Written By Mirari
July 10, 2020, 12:18 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Costas
My love,
Word of your passing is not wide spread. Unsurprising because I don't think any of your friends knew you were even in the city. I sit now with a bottle of the cologne I originally made for you-- I still have the formula written down --and am wafting the smell toward me. I can almost hear your gruff voice. I can almost feel your calloused fingers upon my shoulder. The world is dimmer without your bright eyes to bring me light. Sounds are muffled and dull without your raspiness to give them texture. Sensations are dulled without the roughness of your palms to give them definition.
Love is dead. It leaves with you.
But rest assured. Whoever did this will get what they deserve.
Word of your passing is not wide spread. Unsurprising because I don't think any of your friends knew you were even in the city. I sit now with a bottle of the cologne I originally made for you-- I still have the formula written down --and am wafting the smell toward me. I can almost hear your gruff voice. I can almost feel your calloused fingers upon my shoulder. The world is dimmer without your bright eyes to bring me light. Sounds are muffled and dull without your raspiness to give them texture. Sensations are dulled without the roughness of your palms to give them definition.
Love is dead. It leaves with you.
But rest assured. Whoever did this will get what they deserve.
Written By Shard
July 10, 2020, 6:11 a.m.(8/17/1013 AR)
I dream a lot, and a lot of those dreams aren't pleasant. That's not something that should be surprising to anyone, and it's certainly not something either surprising or uncommon among people who do a lot of fighting, particularly in wars. Soldiers, warriors, sellswords, hunters; it's not always the case, but there's probably something to be learned about a person who ends up, willingly or not, killing a lot of other people, and whether or not they ever have bad, bloody dreams. I don't know what it says about me that mine aren't usually about war.
The good ones, though, aren't usually very complicated. There's often a lot of running, but the enjoyable sort of running, the kind you do when you want to, or when you're the one doing the chasing. More smells and sounds than images. Crisp air. Pine trees. Bird calls. Campfire smoke. The crunch of half frozen grass or old snow. There are other people; I'm usually not running alone. Sometimes I smell blood in these dreams too, but it's from a successful hunt, not a battle.
One type of dream can flow into another. The nightmare I usually have tends to pop up when it's especially not welcome. It works both ways, though, sometimes a dream about a terrible night becomes a dream about a good one. Often in particularly weird or jarring ways. Even dreams that are just memories don't want to make too much sense.
And, no, I don't have a good reason as to why I'm bothering to write about dreams in the middle of the night instead of actually dreaming. I felt like it.
The good ones, though, aren't usually very complicated. There's often a lot of running, but the enjoyable sort of running, the kind you do when you want to, or when you're the one doing the chasing. More smells and sounds than images. Crisp air. Pine trees. Bird calls. Campfire smoke. The crunch of half frozen grass or old snow. There are other people; I'm usually not running alone. Sometimes I smell blood in these dreams too, but it's from a successful hunt, not a battle.
One type of dream can flow into another. The nightmare I usually have tends to pop up when it's especially not welcome. It works both ways, though, sometimes a dream about a terrible night becomes a dream about a good one. Often in particularly weird or jarring ways. Even dreams that are just memories don't want to make too much sense.
And, no, I don't have a good reason as to why I'm bothering to write about dreams in the middle of the night instead of actually dreaming. I felt like it.
Written By Raja
July 9, 2020, 11:07 p.m.(8/17/1013 AR)
I am surprised I was elected to be on the Commoner's Council. It is actually quite exciting! I hope in this position I can actually make a difference in the Lowers. The others in the Council have so many amazing ideas. It's going to be a journey to implement the things being discussed! We think that first, we need to figure out what exactly the commoners want. What are their needs?
Written By Bahiya
July 9, 2020, 3:42 p.m.(8/16/1013 AR)
It is one thing to journey to a new world, your feet carrying you across docks and oceans to lands unvisited, to learn of new people and new ways of thinking.
It is quite another to look back at your old world, and discover something horribly new about it, and all your worst worries confirmed.
It is quite another to look back at your old world, and discover something horribly new about it, and all your worst worries confirmed.
Written By Nina
July 9, 2020, 3:39 p.m.(8/16/1013 AR)
I am so, so happy to have held my first fashion showcase with such success! I'm so grateful for everyone who came and the charity we raised.
Wow! I usually have more words, but I think I used them all up at the show with my artists' statements.
But if people enjoy my fashion then they should know that I also got help to make something fabulous for the finale ball too! I almost showed it at the show last night but I'm saving it now for a surprise.
Wow! I usually have more words, but I think I used them all up at the show with my artists' statements.
But if people enjoy my fashion then they should know that I also got help to make something fabulous for the finale ball too! I almost showed it at the show last night but I'm saving it now for a surprise.
Written By Miranda
July 9, 2020, 1:13 p.m.(8/16/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Martino
Congratulations to my dear second-cousin, Lord Martino Malvici and his lovely wife, Kaia on their daughter's birth!
All my love!
... Good luck, Martino! You are outnumbered.
All my love!
... Good luck, Martino! You are outnumbered.
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