Written By Kastelon
Nov. 15, 2020, 8:43 a.m.(5/21/1014 AR)
My cousin the Marquis has seen fit to entrust to me the command of a troop of archers for the coming war with the Eurusi. On a ship. *A SHIP*. And further, to train our companies of archers before and after the conflict to come.
I had feared perhaps that I would be left behind as a rear guard after what happened at the Queensrest. Trust in one's judgement and abilities can be very fragile in these turbulent times. I will make my family and house proud.
Written By Emberly
Nov. 15, 2020, 8:11 a.m.(5/21/1014 AR)
Lagoma is with you.
I have never made a poison in my life...
Those that believe I would do not know my heart.
Written By Tamsin
Nov. 15, 2020, 8:04 a.m.(5/21/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Medeia
I saw an denouncement that Lady Medeia is engaged to Lord Haakon. I'll have to make sure to use my invitation to have drinks with her before she's moved out of Saik and no longer overseeing their drinks.
Written By Tamsin
Nov. 15, 2020, 7:59 a.m.(5/21/1014 AR)
Today I write of irony, of endings, and how a middle can bring with it the cut threads of ending.
I write of irony, because those who shout so loudly that tradition must be followed (and do so in a way to break Lagoma's charge of change, Petrichor's sanctuary, Limerance's fidelity) have defiled a building that by tradition and faith law is inviolate. Men and women who would rather bow to Eurus than follow their rightful lords set fire to the Cathedral of Arx.
I write of endings, because the same group, those who follow the Apostate Ivan, killed many in their attacks. Not just at the Cathedral. Not just in a ward of the city. They took to the Queensrest and brought an end to our Dominus, Orazio.
But this isn't the end of the tale. No one is going to let this stop here. There will be judgement called on such foul people and from these events more stories will split off in beginnings, and more will find theirs ended.
Written By Sydney
Nov. 15, 2020, 5:52 a.m.(5/21/1014 AR)
Lest I'm accused of putting the cart before the horse, I know loss, and I know what blood on my hands feels like just as well. I'd be a sharding liar of the highest order if I claimed that either of these things don't dampen the mood and darken the spirits, but the moment that you allow yourself to turn opaque, you may not be letting darkness in, but you'll also let no light through.
Let yourself feel what you're feeling. Feel it with a trusted friend if it's of the utmost secrecy, but also allow yourself to speak it to absolute strangers if it's not.
People will surprise you with their capacity for empathy - even those that you might not suspect.
So grab a pint, a glass, a shot, a half-dozen shots, or whatever your poison of choice may be, and allow yourself to let go of some of that weight, or you can rest assured, you will hold it. And there's nothing more miserable than carrying that weight alone. So says Sydney Waterfall, channeling her inner Whisper from prolonged exposure to their finest ranks.
Written By Oriana
Nov. 15, 2020, 2:51 a.m.(5/21/1014 AR)
Written By Cambria
Nov. 15, 2020, 2:31 a.m.(5/21/1014 AR)
Written By Griffin
Nov. 15, 2020, 2 a.m.(5/21/1014 AR)
Shyanne has made the move between flirting, to taking it one steps closer. And I? Not so many months ago I would have considered it. Now? But then again, she's different..
Of course, Wash has begun a one man campaign to introduce me to my 'wife'. It was a joke on its outset, and began to work over time, until it wasn't a joke. I think. Too many things were happening at once, including some poetry from before my muse stopped.
It seems to me the words, even from before, are dead. But then again I had a full bottle of wine that made me just a little bit woozy. Or I had nearly a full bottle of wine to drown the words, stuck in my mouth as they were.
Why can't I write? Not even prose.
I'm going to ask Wash just how serious he was..
Written By Sorrel
Nov. 14, 2020, 10:19 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Written By Raja
Nov. 14, 2020, 9:35 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Written By Raja
Nov. 14, 2020, 9:34 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Written By Aleksei
Nov. 14, 2020, 9:12 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Written By Rowenova
Nov. 14, 2020, 7:12 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Written By Raymesin
Nov. 14, 2020, 4:33 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Emberly
On the bright side, you can work for a living, or starve! On the less bright side, you're now at the mercy of the Iron Guard and the Inquisition.
Written By Sapphira
Nov. 14, 2020, 4:25 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
Perhaps we, then, are part of the legacy he leaves behind. Let us all do his memory honor.
Written By Venturo
Nov. 14, 2020, 4:04 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Caprice
Written By Piccola
Nov. 14, 2020, 3:38 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
I hope one day to visit.
For those tempered by cruel vicissitude, no criticism holds value. Our ears bend to those in the arena with us, whose faces are marred by dust and sweat and blood. A wise general marks well those who strive valiantly -- who errs and comes short again and again -- because there is no effort without error and no achievement without shortcoming. Those who do the deeds share their tables with those who know the great enthusiasms and devotions of those who spends their lives in a well-fought and worthy cause. All others stand, no matter their seat, outside of such halls.
To the Dominus, I am certain that he knew in the end the triumph of high achievement.
To my Peers, remember best those who at their worst fail while daring greatly, and fight alongside those who would do the same, so that we shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
Written By Strozza
Nov. 14, 2020, 3:32 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Do you see spirits or specter standing tall?
Does spider creep or something to apall?
Likely my time wondering wasted over naught at all.
Written By Strozza
Nov. 14, 2020, 3:11 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Together locked in silent dance
None looks to my victory askance
Shredding it quiet as a dove.
Written By Valdemar
Nov. 14, 2020, 2:40 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Perronne
So do not presume to know my reasons for anything. You very clearly know nothing of me, nor of what I've done, to be able to judge by. You don't even seem to understand that what I wrote about Mistress Zyanya's words were not a criticism of her, a person whose company I've enjoyed in the past, but rather of a place that she was singing the praises of.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.