Written By Eirlys
Jan. 22, 2017, 12:19 p.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
This week I have spent a great deal of time in the sparing ring. I haven't been able to get to it as much as I had liked. It was fantastic even though I didn't win three of the five fights. It showed me where I need work and where I need to improve. I will do so. I will get back in that ring and I will win. I know that I can do this. I am also thinking of taking a slightly different direction in my life, maybe something that can give me a purpose. I need one and I will have one. I may have my own training to do but I can help train those that are not where I am at yet. It is a worthy cause I think. I hope Cai and Uncle Muiryn would be proud of the decision.
Written By Joslyn
Jan. 22, 2017, 12:15 p.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
The last year of my life has been just the absolute worst. Well... I should probably be more specific. This is my first entry since arriving here in Arx, and I guess I have a lot to say about what life had been like ever since Calista and Juliet left Tor to go to this strange place. I guess I need to gather my thoughts on what I've been up to, for the sake of posterity.
I was raised alongside Juliet and Calista both as a young girl. We shared a home, even. Even if I was sequestered off to the servant quarters for much of it. Calista and I became best friends as children. We became inseparable after a time, and so it was only natural that I would be hired on to act as her handmaiden. I began those duties rather young, but I never thought of it as work. I was just helping my friend pick out clothes and applying makeup, which is what I would probably have been doing otherwise. It was great, and I got to work with my best friend, doing what I'd been doing since I was little. It wasn't really work at all.
About a year ago, Calista left for Arx on some business. Since the trip was supposed to be short, it was suggested that I remain behind and keep working with my weapons trainer, so I agreed, expecting her to arrive home after just a few months. Those months passed, and I grew anxious. Juliet soon followed, and at that moment I had nobody back home to keep me company. Sure there were the people I knew, and I had some company, but there was an awful apprehension waiting for my two favorite people to come back into my life. It was lonely, and after a while, even my training began to just feel empty and hollow.
Eventually, I got the letter requesting that I come join them in Arx. That the circumstances of their visit had changed and that they would be permanently remaining in Arx. I didn't even have to think about it, I knew that I had to be with the closest sister I'd ever known, and I packed my bags to make the trip. It was a long journey, but I eventually made it.
Upon my arrival... everything is so different up here. The weather is strange, and the air even tastes different. Modesty is far more commonplace here than I'm used to, and it's made me worry about presenting the right side of things... but my worries all seemed to be rather insignificant. I've been trying to catch up as much as I can while also getting to know the movers and shakers in Arx.
Calista has changed considerably in the time we've been apart, but not so much that we didn't instantly reconnect as I knew we would. The weight of so much lies on her that, she can't help but be affected. Juliet is the same as she ever was, and as it is, we too reconnected quickly, catching up and making up for lost time all in the space of an evening.
I find it curious that this is far more brief than I had really intended, but I guess that's all there really is to say about the last year. It was unbearable to be separated from the most important people in my life. Now that I'm here in Arx, I feel like I'm home for the first time in a long time.
I was raised alongside Juliet and Calista both as a young girl. We shared a home, even. Even if I was sequestered off to the servant quarters for much of it. Calista and I became best friends as children. We became inseparable after a time, and so it was only natural that I would be hired on to act as her handmaiden. I began those duties rather young, but I never thought of it as work. I was just helping my friend pick out clothes and applying makeup, which is what I would probably have been doing otherwise. It was great, and I got to work with my best friend, doing what I'd been doing since I was little. It wasn't really work at all.
About a year ago, Calista left for Arx on some business. Since the trip was supposed to be short, it was suggested that I remain behind and keep working with my weapons trainer, so I agreed, expecting her to arrive home after just a few months. Those months passed, and I grew anxious. Juliet soon followed, and at that moment I had nobody back home to keep me company. Sure there were the people I knew, and I had some company, but there was an awful apprehension waiting for my two favorite people to come back into my life. It was lonely, and after a while, even my training began to just feel empty and hollow.
Eventually, I got the letter requesting that I come join them in Arx. That the circumstances of their visit had changed and that they would be permanently remaining in Arx. I didn't even have to think about it, I knew that I had to be with the closest sister I'd ever known, and I packed my bags to make the trip. It was a long journey, but I eventually made it.
Upon my arrival... everything is so different up here. The weather is strange, and the air even tastes different. Modesty is far more commonplace here than I'm used to, and it's made me worry about presenting the right side of things... but my worries all seemed to be rather insignificant. I've been trying to catch up as much as I can while also getting to know the movers and shakers in Arx.
Calista has changed considerably in the time we've been apart, but not so much that we didn't instantly reconnect as I knew we would. The weight of so much lies on her that, she can't help but be affected. Juliet is the same as she ever was, and as it is, we too reconnected quickly, catching up and making up for lost time all in the space of an evening.
I find it curious that this is far more brief than I had really intended, but I guess that's all there really is to say about the last year. It was unbearable to be separated from the most important people in my life. Now that I'm here in Arx, I feel like I'm home for the first time in a long time.
Written By Cicero
Jan. 22, 2017, 11:57 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Summer is fleeting
Leaves take color, nights a chill
Ugh. All the layers.
Leaves take color, nights a chill
Ugh. All the layers.
Written By Lailah
Jan. 22, 2017, 10:08 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Iona
My mother an I have an interesting relationship. We've butted heads in the past about my path in life, but I think that on the whole she's been supportive and only wants me to be careful of my own ambitions. In the end, I think she understood, and since I've been back in Arx, she's shown me a lot of support. The biggest development is that she informed me that she and my father would be seeking out a husband for me. It's left me rather nervous, not sure what to expect. I'm sure they'll pick me a fine match, and hopefully I can just continue my research unabated. Mother has always had my best interests at heart.
Written By Bethany
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:59 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
[ From the desk of B. Mercier: ]
It is important to say what hope is not: it is not the belief that everything was, is or will be fine. The evidence is all around us - suffering and pending destruction. The hope I am interested in is founded in the premises that we don’t know what will happen and that in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act. Thinking critically without hope might be considered cynicism; hope without such thought is naivety -
( Pardon, scholars, I omitted the next part. I started to describe the nature, limits, and the study of hope before comparing and contrasting it against theological values. Too dry, too lengthy. )
We are able to overcome hardship with hope. Hope provides us the with faith, with courage, with motivation and the strength to take action against misery and despair caused by misfortune.
it is not wishful thinking, nor does it magically set all to rights. It's an emotion, a mindset.
We hope on, and we hope ever.
It is important to say what hope is not: it is not the belief that everything was, is or will be fine. The evidence is all around us - suffering and pending destruction. The hope I am interested in is founded in the premises that we don’t know what will happen and that in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act. Thinking critically without hope might be considered cynicism; hope without such thought is naivety -
( Pardon, scholars, I omitted the next part. I started to describe the nature, limits, and the study of hope before comparing and contrasting it against theological values. Too dry, too lengthy. )
We are able to overcome hardship with hope. Hope provides us the with faith, with courage, with motivation and the strength to take action against misery and despair caused by misfortune.
it is not wishful thinking, nor does it magically set all to rights. It's an emotion, a mindset.
We hope on, and we hope ever.
Written By Sigurd
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:58 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
I recently joined a new organization, that of the Defense Ministry.
Normally, I am a man who, while appreciating the fact such organizations must exist in our form of governing, really regard them with a bit of a roll of my eyes. After all, almost all of them are simply made-up things designed to keep idle nobles busy and feeling important about themselves. But this seems different. This seems...Important.
I was not only treated to a new Bevy of information (thank you, Prince Tristram, for organizing this so well), but I was also able to discuss and influence, in depth, strategies and innovation and practical theory about our ongoing efforts against the Bringers, and our other enemies. I feel very good about this at present. Calypso seems to have a good, decisive head on her shoulders, and the others, while diverse, all have the same aim and goal: the destruction of our enemies, and developing the means to do so.
This is a good start. Now to ensure it is a good finish.
Normally, I am a man who, while appreciating the fact such organizations must exist in our form of governing, really regard them with a bit of a roll of my eyes. After all, almost all of them are simply made-up things designed to keep idle nobles busy and feeling important about themselves. But this seems different. This seems...Important.
I was not only treated to a new Bevy of information (thank you, Prince Tristram, for organizing this so well), but I was also able to discuss and influence, in depth, strategies and innovation and practical theory about our ongoing efforts against the Bringers, and our other enemies. I feel very good about this at present. Calypso seems to have a good, decisive head on her shoulders, and the others, while diverse, all have the same aim and goal: the destruction of our enemies, and developing the means to do so.
This is a good start. Now to ensure it is a good finish.
Written By Cassius
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:56 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
After back-to-back meetings I am happy to report an abundance of cohesion and a draught of ego. While we still struggle to find what we need to know - to learn what is right and what is true - we do continue the march towards victory.
All the while, the Knights march on. The open show of support has not only been critical to our task but quite heartening.
And, as ever, I feel the blessings of the Gods. They are among us, they are here for us, they will not abandon us, despite our unworthiness. We are not alone.
Lord Cassius Nightgold, KoS
(A note to the scholars: in a short while all my journals will be signed Duke Cassius Pravus, KoS.)
All the while, the Knights march on. The open show of support has not only been critical to our task but quite heartening.
And, as ever, I feel the blessings of the Gods. They are among us, they are here for us, they will not abandon us, despite our unworthiness. We are not alone.
Lord Cassius Nightgold, KoS
(A note to the scholars: in a short while all my journals will be signed Duke Cassius Pravus, KoS.)
Written By Leola
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:55 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Business this week
- Brier is now a solid shot with her hooves. She can kick a tin plate out of the air and leave it dented. Quite the blow! I might have a smith make her some better horseshoes soon.
- I trained Ariel further for Lady Calypso. She comes along well.
- I assisted his lordshop Inigo with his new hawk. The same breed as my darling Aletta, which bodes well. He seems intelligent enough, quick to take direction and advice, and the hawk is quite skilled as well. I dare say the two will be working in concert soon.
It was with a heavy heart I sent the beautiful cloak Sir Silas Mercier sent me, via Lady Juliet Fidante, to the whispers organising the business in the Lower Boroughs. I have a responsibility, now, to act in a way fitting, and that means giving the very best of what I have.
- Brier is now a solid shot with her hooves. She can kick a tin plate out of the air and leave it dented. Quite the blow! I might have a smith make her some better horseshoes soon.
- I trained Ariel further for Lady Calypso. She comes along well.
- I assisted his lordshop Inigo with his new hawk. The same breed as my darling Aletta, which bodes well. He seems intelligent enough, quick to take direction and advice, and the hawk is quite skilled as well. I dare say the two will be working in concert soon.
It was with a heavy heart I sent the beautiful cloak Sir Silas Mercier sent me, via Lady Juliet Fidante, to the whispers organising the business in the Lower Boroughs. I have a responsibility, now, to act in a way fitting, and that means giving the very best of what I have.
Written By Dominique
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:54 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
I had the honor of losing to Duke Leo this week in a spar. I was at least able to land one blow before he danced around all the others. I need to be faster and train harder.
Written By Leola
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:38 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
I'm now a Deputy Minister. Of Agriculture, appropriately.
Lady Niamh thanked me for my work with her so far and asked me to step into the role. I assume she's either an inflated sense of my worth or wishes to court the good graces of the Church. Either way, I'm thankful, and I intend to do all I can to ensure I am worthy of the position.
Between this, and my work with the Lodge finding a place to be, I'm quite busy of late!
Lady Niamh thanked me for my work with her so far and asked me to step into the role. I assume she's either an inflated sense of my worth or wishes to court the good graces of the Church. Either way, I'm thankful, and I intend to do all I can to ensure I am worthy of the position.
Between this, and my work with the Lodge finding a place to be, I'm quite busy of late!
Written By Abbas
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:17 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
War comes to Arvum and the Salt seems still. While everyone looks to the obvious I shall tend to what I know to be true. Under the calm surface the currents always rage and flow. There never is stillness only the lull of the illusion that is the folly of men and fleets alike. I have always had a natural sense of the current and her pull right now is more treacherous than ever.
It reminds me of a poem I once read. Or perhaps a woman reminds me thus. I'm unsure.
Ocean, if you were to give, a measure, a ferment, a fruit
of your gifts and destructions, into my hand,
I would choose your far-off repose, your contour of steel,
your vigilant spaces of air and darkness,
and the power of your white tongue,
that shatters and overthrows columns,
breaking them down to your proper purity.
Not the final breaker, heavy with brine,
that thunders onshore, and creates
the silence of sand, that encircles the world,
but the inner spaces of force,
the naked power of the waters,
the immoveable solitude, brimming with lives.
It is Time perhaps, or the vessel filled
with all motion, pure Oneness,
that death cannot touch, the visceral green
of consuming totality.
Only a salt kiss remains of the drowned arm,
that lifts a spray: a humid scent,
of the damp flower, is left,
from the bodies of men. Your energies
form, in a trickle that is not spent,
form, in retreat into silence.
The falling wave,
arch of identity, shattering feathers,
is only spume when it clears,
and returns to its source, unconsumed.
Your whole force heads for its origin.
The husks that your load threshes,
are only the crushed, plundered, deliveries,
that your act of abundance expelled,
all those that take life from your branches.
Your form extends beyond breakers,
vibrant, and rhythmic, like the chest, cloaking
a single being, and its breathings,
that lift into the content of light,
plains raised above waves,
forming the naked surface of earth.
You fill your true self with your substance.
You overflow curve with silence.
The vessel trembles with your salt and sweetness,
the universal cavern of waters,
and nothing is lost from you, as it is
from the desolate crater, or the bay of a hill,
those empty heights, signs, scars,
guarding the wounded air.
Your petals throbbing against the Earth,
trembling your submarine harvests,
your menace thickening the smooth swell,
with pulsations and swarming of schools,
and only the thread of the net raises
the dead lightning of fish-scale,
one wounded millimetre, in the space
of your crystal completeness.
(Pablo Neruda: The Wide Ocean)
It reminds me of a poem I once read. Or perhaps a woman reminds me thus. I'm unsure.
Ocean, if you were to give, a measure, a ferment, a fruit
of your gifts and destructions, into my hand,
I would choose your far-off repose, your contour of steel,
your vigilant spaces of air and darkness,
and the power of your white tongue,
that shatters and overthrows columns,
breaking them down to your proper purity.
Not the final breaker, heavy with brine,
that thunders onshore, and creates
the silence of sand, that encircles the world,
but the inner spaces of force,
the naked power of the waters,
the immoveable solitude, brimming with lives.
It is Time perhaps, or the vessel filled
with all motion, pure Oneness,
that death cannot touch, the visceral green
of consuming totality.
Only a salt kiss remains of the drowned arm,
that lifts a spray: a humid scent,
of the damp flower, is left,
from the bodies of men. Your energies
form, in a trickle that is not spent,
form, in retreat into silence.
The falling wave,
arch of identity, shattering feathers,
is only spume when it clears,
and returns to its source, unconsumed.
Your whole force heads for its origin.
The husks that your load threshes,
are only the crushed, plundered, deliveries,
that your act of abundance expelled,
all those that take life from your branches.
Your form extends beyond breakers,
vibrant, and rhythmic, like the chest, cloaking
a single being, and its breathings,
that lift into the content of light,
plains raised above waves,
forming the naked surface of earth.
You fill your true self with your substance.
You overflow curve with silence.
The vessel trembles with your salt and sweetness,
the universal cavern of waters,
and nothing is lost from you, as it is
from the desolate crater, or the bay of a hill,
those empty heights, signs, scars,
guarding the wounded air.
Your petals throbbing against the Earth,
trembling your submarine harvests,
your menace thickening the smooth swell,
with pulsations and swarming of schools,
and only the thread of the net raises
the dead lightning of fish-scale,
one wounded millimetre, in the space
of your crystal completeness.
(Pablo Neruda: The Wide Ocean)
Written By Cicero
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:05 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Extending the reach
The North now represented
The dream near realized
The North now represented
The dream near realized
Written By Cicero
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:02 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Smoke, heat, but no fire.
Extinguished before the flame
The coals still smolder
Extinguished before the flame
The coals still smolder
Written By Leta
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:02 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
I ought to worry more about Arx and this mess that's going on. Ought to worry more about the rest of Arvum too, if I'm to live in southern parts with my woman some day. And maybe there's something I can do, and maybe there's not. But I'm not a noble, am I? They get born in their silks, and in pay they get to lead and they get to worry about the messes they make, unless they give the whole thing up.
And sometimes I can tell all these regents and councils and ministers and all sort of highborn sorts are about to step in a bog. And since we're all tied together because of Limerance and Gild and all, if they go down then a bunch of us go down with them.
But I can't say I envy them. Maybe some Lycene princeling that ain't got a worry in the world but which silk to wear, him I'll envy, but I reckon I'm happier with a single pair of gloves than he is with a full wardrobe. Silk's like water to a fish for him, I wager.
I've my own worries. I care about mine, and sometimes I get to care about other folk. And maybe I'm tangled up in all this, and I'd rather not be, and maybe I ought to be doing something about that, but I won't. And gods forgive me, but if they wanted me to bear the burden they had better stick a silver spoon up my ass, if you pardon me, when I was born, and I don't remember one.
And sometimes I can tell all these regents and councils and ministers and all sort of highborn sorts are about to step in a bog. And since we're all tied together because of Limerance and Gild and all, if they go down then a bunch of us go down with them.
But I can't say I envy them. Maybe some Lycene princeling that ain't got a worry in the world but which silk to wear, him I'll envy, but I reckon I'm happier with a single pair of gloves than he is with a full wardrobe. Silk's like water to a fish for him, I wager.
I've my own worries. I care about mine, and sometimes I get to care about other folk. And maybe I'm tangled up in all this, and I'd rather not be, and maybe I ought to be doing something about that, but I won't. And gods forgive me, but if they wanted me to bear the burden they had better stick a silver spoon up my ass, if you pardon me, when I was born, and I don't remember one.
Written By Darrow
Jan. 22, 2017, 7:26 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Ianthe
I have personally offered Ianthe, the woman that Maximilian is "acquainted" with, my protection. I believe she will be targetted by things beyond, things which are hostile to our people in the Saffron Chain and the Mourning Isles.
The Lament does not have much to offer, but it does have me.
The Lament does not have much to offer, but it does have me.
Written By Darrow
Jan. 22, 2017, 7:22 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Margot
The woman's family killed mine.
My uncles, my aunts, my cousins...
But hers are dead, too.
We have lost the same thing.
My uncles, my aunts, my cousins...
But hers are dead, too.
We have lost the same thing.
Written By Julea
Jan. 22, 2017, 6:26 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
I am tired today. This has been a long and exhausting week, longer than most. And I can feel that weight of all of this on my shoulders and bearing down on me till my feet sink into the mud. Each step more hard fought than the last. But through all of that, people saw me today, I think. A lot of people who do not normally see me at all, saw me. Just for a few minutes all eyes were on me and they were asking -me- what to do. And for those few seconds, I was almost able to forget everything, all of this mess that we're in, and then reality came crashing back.
I still have one method of escape, one person that does help me forget. I hope to see them again soon.
I still have one method of escape, one person that does help me forget. I hope to see them again soon.
Written By Reese
Jan. 22, 2017, 6:22 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Iona
Duchess Iona is a good woman. So mature and wise. She is certainly a mother too. I think she is mothering many of the Graysons, but that is alright some of us really stand to benefit from it. I know I can.
Written By Reese
Jan. 22, 2017, 6:19 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Laric
Cousin Laric was a grown man when I was still a little girl. He doesn't remember me all that well, but I used to wear a lot of pink and ribbons, so it is understandable. Maybe I could still wear pink ribbons along with my armor, but they would get frayed so quickly, so probably is a waste of time. Anyways, he didn't like my hugs. I think because I was stinky from running around in the Grayson grounds in my armor. That is how I am working on getting stronger.
Written By Reese
Jan. 22, 2017, 6:15 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Killian
He beat me the last time we fought. I plan to win the next time. However, if I don't win that just means I will have to keep trying until I do win. The best way to become better is keep sparing and fighting until finally you are the one wining. Sometimes the best sparing partners are those who can win against you, because that just means there is more room for improvement.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.