Written By Hamish
Nov. 18, 2020, 9:19 a.m.(5/27/1014 AR)
When I heard the news I laughed.
It may not have been the most appropriate of responses, but I just couldn't believe the cheek of the man. A proclamation that starts with nonsense and goes from there into absurdity. Heresy? Excommunication? Dear Waldo, you have no authority over me. In fact, you have no authority over anyone. That's what happens when you choose a liege over the faith, when you choose a man over the gods. You may feel free to tell me that I am dismissed for my sins, but you might as well tell a cat to stop jumping up on the couch. To quote a god you have apparently decided you do not believe in, I do what I want.
But speaking to my friends and my loved ones I realized that the response from the others has been anger and fear. The more I talked to them the less funny it seemed. The more I spoke to her Harlequins the less funny it seemed. And the more I spoke to those who need our services and who love our Queen the less funny it seemed. It may not be evident, given that many people think of the Harlequins as a bunch of very cool people prone to wearing black and telling jokes, but we are one of the few formal discipleships who frequently make housecalls. Those who call on the Harlequins are often expectant mothers, new parents and the loved ones of the dying. We bring our Queen to wards from the Crown to the Lowers, as Death does not discriminate between souls. That his words would worry these parishioners of Death angers me. Her Harlequins are called to this service, service that could be seen as humble or service that could be seen as weird, service both esoteric and utterly prosaic, out of love for our Queen and love for her people. That his words would ask those who give of themselves for those who need it most to doubt their role and passion incenses me. That he would call out people like my colleague, Blessed Astrid Ulbran, my superior and a man whose faith is something on which we can all model ourselves, Father Aureth Grayhope, and the Queen of the Compact and someone I am proud to call my friend, Queen Symonesse Grayson, infuriates me.
But for all of that I cannot hate Goodman Waldo. I cannot even be angry with him. I am angry with his words, I am angry with his actions and I am disgusted by his cause, but I cannot find it in myself to despise the man.
I pity him.
His days are numbered. None of us can see the calendar of the rest of his life, but it is not one with a lot of pages. For me there is nothing so piteous as someone who refuses to believe in a goddess whose presence brings comfort to the dying. Who will refuse to acknowledge our Queen of Endings until justice has been brought to him and he has the opportunity to meet her first hand. Who will go to her with hate in his heart and know the shame of having that hate washed away by the love she has for him.
I pray for you, Goodman Waldo.
But you've upset my friends, so should the opportunity present it I may have to pray for you while kicking you in the groin.
It may not have been the most appropriate of responses, but I just couldn't believe the cheek of the man. A proclamation that starts with nonsense and goes from there into absurdity. Heresy? Excommunication? Dear Waldo, you have no authority over me. In fact, you have no authority over anyone. That's what happens when you choose a liege over the faith, when you choose a man over the gods. You may feel free to tell me that I am dismissed for my sins, but you might as well tell a cat to stop jumping up on the couch. To quote a god you have apparently decided you do not believe in, I do what I want.
But speaking to my friends and my loved ones I realized that the response from the others has been anger and fear. The more I talked to them the less funny it seemed. The more I spoke to her Harlequins the less funny it seemed. And the more I spoke to those who need our services and who love our Queen the less funny it seemed. It may not be evident, given that many people think of the Harlequins as a bunch of very cool people prone to wearing black and telling jokes, but we are one of the few formal discipleships who frequently make housecalls. Those who call on the Harlequins are often expectant mothers, new parents and the loved ones of the dying. We bring our Queen to wards from the Crown to the Lowers, as Death does not discriminate between souls. That his words would worry these parishioners of Death angers me. Her Harlequins are called to this service, service that could be seen as humble or service that could be seen as weird, service both esoteric and utterly prosaic, out of love for our Queen and love for her people. That his words would ask those who give of themselves for those who need it most to doubt their role and passion incenses me. That he would call out people like my colleague, Blessed Astrid Ulbran, my superior and a man whose faith is something on which we can all model ourselves, Father Aureth Grayhope, and the Queen of the Compact and someone I am proud to call my friend, Queen Symonesse Grayson, infuriates me.
But for all of that I cannot hate Goodman Waldo. I cannot even be angry with him. I am angry with his words, I am angry with his actions and I am disgusted by his cause, but I cannot find it in myself to despise the man.
I pity him.
His days are numbered. None of us can see the calendar of the rest of his life, but it is not one with a lot of pages. For me there is nothing so piteous as someone who refuses to believe in a goddess whose presence brings comfort to the dying. Who will refuse to acknowledge our Queen of Endings until justice has been brought to him and he has the opportunity to meet her first hand. Who will go to her with hate in his heart and know the shame of having that hate washed away by the love she has for him.
I pray for you, Goodman Waldo.
But you've upset my friends, so should the opportunity present it I may have to pray for you while kicking you in the groin.
Written By Medeia
Nov. 18, 2020, 6:08 a.m.(5/27/1014 AR)
I've been struggling to write these last many days. I certainly have things to write about, but every time I sit down to put ink to paper the words dissipate from my mind like steam rising off a fresh cup of coffee. As more days go by, more things happen, and more words go unpreserved. So, I have come to sit and force myself to put something down under the watchful eyes of a Scholar.
There are moments in life that change you. It seems a betrothal is one such moment. The near future will find me wed to Lord Haakon Eswynd and joining his house - changing my name, my home, my status, my fealty. The news of our contract being approved came just two days after the attack on the city, and we put the announcement off out of respect several more days besides, so celebrating what should be exciting news has been complicated. However, there will be celebration and ceremony. And I am honored to have had the dear Lady Narcissa Fidante extend the offer to conduct the ceremony.
I am looking forward to the coming changes, to the alliance between House Saik and House Eswynd, to the perseverance and triumph of the Faith and the Compact, and to celebrating what there is to celebrate.
There are moments in life that change you. It seems a betrothal is one such moment. The near future will find me wed to Lord Haakon Eswynd and joining his house - changing my name, my home, my status, my fealty. The news of our contract being approved came just two days after the attack on the city, and we put the announcement off out of respect several more days besides, so celebrating what should be exciting news has been complicated. However, there will be celebration and ceremony. And I am honored to have had the dear Lady Narcissa Fidante extend the offer to conduct the ceremony.
I am looking forward to the coming changes, to the alliance between House Saik and House Eswynd, to the perseverance and triumph of the Faith and the Compact, and to celebrating what there is to celebrate.
Written By Elloise
Nov. 17, 2020, 11:21 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)
I've recently returned to Arx after spending some time back home, mourning the death of my sister. It was...
I'm sorry. I thought I had more to write about that, but it turns out I don't.
It sounds like my ships may be needed soon.
I'm sorry. I thought I had more to write about that, but it turns out I don't.
It sounds like my ships may be needed soon.
Written By Selene
Nov. 17, 2020, 10:03 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)
I yearn for flowers. Scarlet, vermillion, russet, burgundy, pimpernel. The season of gardens is upon us, and in their blossoms and traced designs on silk I see the work of the Lyceum in its grandest form.
How many use these fine inspirations as their device? I'm left to wonder.
How many use these fine inspirations as their device? I'm left to wonder.
Written By Piccola
Nov. 17, 2020, 9:13 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)
In the quiet of my room I enjoy the peace that comes from knowing these things.
There are things I shall never have: things that I desire and should justly have. There are things that I may have: things I have rejected and discarded. And there are things which I shall have: things that are neither desired nor rejected, neither possessed nor discarded.
I wonder as I stare into the candle as to the things I have seen and the mysteries I am to chase.
There are things I shall never have: things that I desire and should justly have. There are things that I may have: things I have rejected and discarded. And there are things which I shall have: things that are neither desired nor rejected, neither possessed nor discarded.
I wonder as I stare into the candle as to the things I have seen and the mysteries I am to chase.
Written By Monique
Nov. 17, 2020, 7:11 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)
It was a lovely private ceremony, and the groom seems a nice enough man. The food was good, the whiskey was wonderful, and now my dearest friend is a married woman.
And I meant every word I said.
And I meant every word I said.
Written By Rysen
Nov. 17, 2020, 7:10 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Svana
What does it mean to be ugly? Imperfection? Humanity? Those are things of beauty. I am looking forward to seeing Svana Grayhope and her family, and perhaps the opportunity to remind her how she looks in the eyes of a friend.
Written By Damiana
Nov. 17, 2020, 2:47 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)
Worrying will not stop troubles from arriving tomorrow. Anxiety won’t delay death a moment longer. Fear only robs you of living your life now, a hidden shackle to hold you down.
Written By Orland
Nov. 17, 2020, 2:43 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)
Thoughts of a student:
There are contingency plans in place in our society, that when a great person falls, another person is eager to fill their boots, and leads. It might be a shock, the change, but change is constant. Besides, there are titles that pass generations for no other reason than blood ties or wars. So why fear? Why get angry? Why? There will always be someone leading the rest. There will always be someone with a greater agenda. There will always be someone contesting that agenda.
Losing a crown, losing power, losing a life? Someone else will always come after these great changes. The world will always shift and change and fold. The only thing to fear would be, not sewing the right seed to grow after yours is withered and dried. Maybe that's the difference. Tyranny and peace, from the histories I've read this week, are in a constant cycle.
If people stopped trying, if they stopped doing whatever it is they do to obtain power, money, wealth, fame, glory, health, survival, legacy... I wonder what the world would be like then. I can't seem to find a time in history, not that I've looked all that hard yet, when all great things stopped. Where all breath held. Where no one did anything. No man nor beast moved.
Would that be Elysia?
There are contingency plans in place in our society, that when a great person falls, another person is eager to fill their boots, and leads. It might be a shock, the change, but change is constant. Besides, there are titles that pass generations for no other reason than blood ties or wars. So why fear? Why get angry? Why? There will always be someone leading the rest. There will always be someone with a greater agenda. There will always be someone contesting that agenda.
Losing a crown, losing power, losing a life? Someone else will always come after these great changes. The world will always shift and change and fold. The only thing to fear would be, not sewing the right seed to grow after yours is withered and dried. Maybe that's the difference. Tyranny and peace, from the histories I've read this week, are in a constant cycle.
If people stopped trying, if they stopped doing whatever it is they do to obtain power, money, wealth, fame, glory, health, survival, legacy... I wonder what the world would be like then. I can't seem to find a time in history, not that I've looked all that hard yet, when all great things stopped. Where all breath held. Where no one did anything. No man nor beast moved.
Would that be Elysia?
Written By Sorrel
Nov. 17, 2020, 2:40 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)
<This is the musical notation and lyrics for an old Orthodox hymn to the gods about building a new shrine in a settlement. It starts as a plea for inspiration, with a reminder that Hope never dies and Love is timeless.
Hope in dark times, a reminder that things will always change, thanks to the hand of Lagoma. Strength to create, to build and rebuild, to innovate and excel, thanks to the guidance of Jayus. The wisdom and understanding of the technology of architecture, thanks to the knowledge of Vellichor.
Thanks be to Petrichor for the land to build upon and the lumber and stones to build with. Praise to Mangata for good weather for building, for fresh air and cool breezes and clean water for laborers to drink. Glory to Gloria for the honor and prestige of creating something holy, and glory to Gild for the ability to further civilization with this structure. Thanks be to Limerance for the faith and devotion of the people to the Pantheon, and a promise to the Sentinel of order amidst chaos.
But it is an old hymn, and there is no mention of the Triad of the Lost. Still, it is something that many have heard sung throughout their childhoods, growing up in the Faith of the Pantheon. Nonetheless, though it may be committed to memory, few are likely to have seen it written out, particularly with the musical notation.>
Hope in dark times, a reminder that things will always change, thanks to the hand of Lagoma. Strength to create, to build and rebuild, to innovate and excel, thanks to the guidance of Jayus. The wisdom and understanding of the technology of architecture, thanks to the knowledge of Vellichor.
Thanks be to Petrichor for the land to build upon and the lumber and stones to build with. Praise to Mangata for good weather for building, for fresh air and cool breezes and clean water for laborers to drink. Glory to Gloria for the honor and prestige of creating something holy, and glory to Gild for the ability to further civilization with this structure. Thanks be to Limerance for the faith and devotion of the people to the Pantheon, and a promise to the Sentinel of order amidst chaos.
But it is an old hymn, and there is no mention of the Triad of the Lost. Still, it is something that many have heard sung throughout their childhoods, growing up in the Faith of the Pantheon. Nonetheless, though it may be committed to memory, few are likely to have seen it written out, particularly with the musical notation.>
Written By Svana
Nov. 17, 2020, 12:33 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)
I reminded time and again that I am a woman of many short comings and ill tempers. I'm sorry for those of you who I think I am good person, as that isn't true. I loathe the day you realize what a terrible person I am. But the truth shall set you free.
I am sorry for the things I have said and done to my rose, my petals. So delicate and kind is she; so sharp are her thorns at times.
I am ugly both inside and out.
I am sorry for the things I have said and done to my rose, my petals. So delicate and kind is she; so sharp are her thorns at times.
I am ugly both inside and out.
Written By Lucita
Nov. 17, 2020, 10:57 a.m.(5/25/1014 AR)
Time after time there is a challenge to calm myself, to put anger, outrage, sorrow, fear aside and seek calm. And in that calm, once it is reached, to form prayers holding facts, clear impartial facts for the Sentinel to weigh them. May justice be done.tice.
Written By Yuri
Nov. 17, 2020, 10:37 a.m.(5/25/1014 AR)
I've never felt more alive than I did in the training center some days ago. My sparring partners were all Lords of prominent standing, with their own distinctive combat styling. And I would have to say that I do not think I had a bad showing whatsoever. Though, my body is still on fire. I may have to stop into see a physician if I'm going to keep this up. See if they have anything for aches.
Written By Preston
Nov. 17, 2020, 9:13 a.m.(5/25/1014 AR)
This former Seraph, Waldo, is quite inconsistent. He claims to represent tradition, he claims to respect the Most Holy Orazio who was murdered by people loyal to the man to whom he has staked his flag. And yet, he claims I was appointed inappropriately?
Tradition of the Faith is that the Carnifex shall be appointed when an existential threat shall arise against the Faith, that this vote shall consist of the Dominus, the Legates and the Grandmaster of the Templars. Given that he does not question my appointment by Most Holy Aldwin to my office, nor does he question Legates Cassandra, Bianca or Ailith, nor does he question Most Holy Orazio, and as he stakes for tradition, I do not know how he can say that I was appointed in anything but the proper ways of our tradition.
I am an Orthodox priest - I have never hidden that from anyone, I have worn that as a badge on my sleeve. I have steeped myself in the traditions of the Faith and of the Church. I was raised in it, almost born into it you could say. I was raised in the Rectory itself, ward of a Legate who would become Dominus, a Valardin. I was squire to the Grandmaster of the Templars, the bastion of the Orthodoxy in the Faith. I wield Crusader, the ancient blade of our order, one which most represents our traditions and our strength, recovered by my hands with a band of fellow devotees. I have led the Orthodoxy into battle, as we smashed the Shav tribes of the Northern Oathlands, ending the Reaper of the Oathlands. I led the Templars to Stormwall, into the Grey Forest, to the Lodge, to Maelstrom, to the Fournier Pickets, to Artshall...against shavs and enemies of the Faith by the dozen, by the hundreds, by their thousands.
I will not be lectured on tradition by an upstart pup of an apostate, a man who when he had to choose between Faith and Lord chose the Lord. Because that is a breach of our most basic tradition. The Faith is paramount. Our oaths to it are first and foremost, and no other oath can ever be allowed to come between that. The Seraph of Sanctum will consider things, for he is wise and acts as the Faith should - with careful ponderance. But I know he will fall on the side of righteousness with us, and I also know this. The Faith may be slow to rouse, for we are a mighty beast of great size, but our response will be swift, it will be devastating and it will be just.
And I remind Waldo, for his logic is flawed and whatever he whimpers into his bedclothes, I am the Carnifex of the Faith for now. My holy charge is to defend the Faith from its threats. In placing himself with an Apostate who has himself declared for heretics and the Eurusi, he joins those enemies. And the tradition, the one I love and the one he abuses, makes the powers of the Carnifex clear - whatever is necessary to defeat that threat and preserve the Faith. I will come for you, Waldo. And I will drag you in chains to the Star Chamber, and I will be there at your end.
For you abuse the two things that the Orthodoxy hold most dear, Waldo. The Faith and tradition. And the Orthodoxy is not forgiving.
Tradition of the Faith is that the Carnifex shall be appointed when an existential threat shall arise against the Faith, that this vote shall consist of the Dominus, the Legates and the Grandmaster of the Templars. Given that he does not question my appointment by Most Holy Aldwin to my office, nor does he question Legates Cassandra, Bianca or Ailith, nor does he question Most Holy Orazio, and as he stakes for tradition, I do not know how he can say that I was appointed in anything but the proper ways of our tradition.
I am an Orthodox priest - I have never hidden that from anyone, I have worn that as a badge on my sleeve. I have steeped myself in the traditions of the Faith and of the Church. I was raised in it, almost born into it you could say. I was raised in the Rectory itself, ward of a Legate who would become Dominus, a Valardin. I was squire to the Grandmaster of the Templars, the bastion of the Orthodoxy in the Faith. I wield Crusader, the ancient blade of our order, one which most represents our traditions and our strength, recovered by my hands with a band of fellow devotees. I have led the Orthodoxy into battle, as we smashed the Shav tribes of the Northern Oathlands, ending the Reaper of the Oathlands. I led the Templars to Stormwall, into the Grey Forest, to the Lodge, to Maelstrom, to the Fournier Pickets, to Artshall...against shavs and enemies of the Faith by the dozen, by the hundreds, by their thousands.
I will not be lectured on tradition by an upstart pup of an apostate, a man who when he had to choose between Faith and Lord chose the Lord. Because that is a breach of our most basic tradition. The Faith is paramount. Our oaths to it are first and foremost, and no other oath can ever be allowed to come between that. The Seraph of Sanctum will consider things, for he is wise and acts as the Faith should - with careful ponderance. But I know he will fall on the side of righteousness with us, and I also know this. The Faith may be slow to rouse, for we are a mighty beast of great size, but our response will be swift, it will be devastating and it will be just.
And I remind Waldo, for his logic is flawed and whatever he whimpers into his bedclothes, I am the Carnifex of the Faith for now. My holy charge is to defend the Faith from its threats. In placing himself with an Apostate who has himself declared for heretics and the Eurusi, he joins those enemies. And the tradition, the one I love and the one he abuses, makes the powers of the Carnifex clear - whatever is necessary to defeat that threat and preserve the Faith. I will come for you, Waldo. And I will drag you in chains to the Star Chamber, and I will be there at your end.
For you abuse the two things that the Orthodoxy hold most dear, Waldo. The Faith and tradition. And the Orthodoxy is not forgiving.
Written By Venturo
Nov. 17, 2020, 9:05 a.m.(5/25/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Iseulet
Rum, you say? I have just the thing for your problems.
Written By Rane
Nov. 16, 2020, 10:28 p.m.(5/24/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Katherine
Arx is once again home, but I know not for how long. I've asked Katherine to remain in Acorn Hill due to the upheaval within the capital's walls. Thankfully, there is still plenty that needs to be done at home and it was not a difficult ask. What /is/ difficult is being away from her.
Written By Cambria
Nov. 16, 2020, 9:57 p.m.(5/24/1014 AR)
A great philosopher once wrote that mankind's greatest invention is fanaticism. I should like to amend that. If it is not our greatest, then it is at least our most terrible. Once it is loose, it is not so easy to put back on its leash...at least not until it has run out of things to destroy.
Written By Cambria
Nov. 16, 2020, 9:52 p.m.(5/24/1014 AR)
Always the Hunter
Never the hunted
The goal always in view
Dreaming again
To Dream anew
Never the hunted
The goal always in view
Dreaming again
To Dream anew
Written By Andromeda
Nov. 16, 2020, 9:04 p.m.(5/24/1014 AR)
Tremorus is a splendid city atop a mountain. In ages past, there was a particular punishment, reserved for the most vile of traitors and those who had otherwise severely offended our rulers.
It's called the dragon's flight.
First, you must have your target at your mercy. This is a method of execution, not an honourable death in battle.
You will cut slits beneath their shoulder-blades. If needed, you will break away their ribs, outwards, beneath. This is to create a gap. A pair of wounds large enough that you can reach in and pull their lungs out.
If done correctly, this will not kill them. But I am told the agony is uncomparable.
When your enemy has their lungs out their back, like stunted wings, they will slowly suffocate in their own blood.
So, having them thrown off the side of a cliff, to see if their new wings will let them fly...
It is a mercy.
Though, of course, through this pain, they will still have time to consider their lives, and their actions, and every moment that led up to hurtling through the air to a brutal death. If the cliff you throw them off is tall enough.
Tremorus touches the sky. Tremorus is tall enough.
I wonder,
can Ivan the Apostate fly like a dragon?
It's called the dragon's flight.
First, you must have your target at your mercy. This is a method of execution, not an honourable death in battle.
You will cut slits beneath their shoulder-blades. If needed, you will break away their ribs, outwards, beneath. This is to create a gap. A pair of wounds large enough that you can reach in and pull their lungs out.
If done correctly, this will not kill them. But I am told the agony is uncomparable.
When your enemy has their lungs out their back, like stunted wings, they will slowly suffocate in their own blood.
So, having them thrown off the side of a cliff, to see if their new wings will let them fly...
It is a mercy.
Though, of course, through this pain, they will still have time to consider their lives, and their actions, and every moment that led up to hurtling through the air to a brutal death. If the cliff you throw them off is tall enough.
Tremorus touches the sky. Tremorus is tall enough.
I wonder,
can Ivan the Apostate fly like a dragon?
Written By Iseulet
Nov. 16, 2020, 5:47 p.m.(5/24/1014 AR)
I had given up rum for years- it does funny things to my head. Makes me brave.
Time to crack out a bottle, I'd say.
Time to crack out a bottle, I'd say.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.