Written By Gehenna
Oct. 11, 2020, 12:48 a.m.(3/7/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Patrizio
Written By Eirene
Oct. 11, 2020, 12:35 a.m.(3/7/1014 AR)
My knowledge in occult and esoteric matters can come in handy sometimes. Like knowing when you've got a real expert on your hands or someone who was throwing around symbols and letters like a toddler writes a letter. I do worry though. Any dabbling in blood magic is dangerous. A little knowledge or a lot; doesn't matter. It's all a threat.
Written By Poppy
Oct. 11, 2020, 12:19 a.m.(3/7/1014 AR)
Next time I will listen to Lord Haakon when he says sip. I'm pretty positive this hangover may last the entire week.
Written By Katarina
Oct. 11, 2020, 12:11 a.m.(3/7/1014 AR)
It felt good to wear a Suj'abbati قناع, in the same way that it feels good to discover a book that one had treasured in their youth. It is familiar and comforting, and yet distance and experience allow for a new perspective rather than a complete return. I believe I shall wear my قناع more, from now on. Though I am a daughter of Sanctum by adoption and by oath, the comfort of a mask is something that shall always live inside me, and to deny it completely would not make me a paragon of self-discipline. It would only make me less than what I am.
Written By Piccola
Oct. 10, 2020, 10:57 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)
The line between failure and success is so fine that we scarcely know when we pass it. We are often on the line and do not know it. Many generals have thrown up her hands at a time when a little more effort, a little more patience, would have achieved success.
As the tide goes clear out, so it comes clear in.
In war, victory may seem least likely when in reality it is but a moment away. A little more persistence, a little more effort, and what seemed hopeless failure may turn to glorious success. There is no failure except in no longer trying.
There is no defeat except from within and no barrier save our own inherent weakness of purpose.
Written By Preston
Oct. 10, 2020, 9:40 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)
It is also good because we have need of it. For winter's cold air cannot hide from us a certain truth. The Eurusi of the Dune Emperor are still close. They lurk in their warrens and hideaways in the Saffron Chain, those places they still cling to and fill with their dark worship, with their slaves and stolen silver. The Crusade is unfinished, and the threat still real. We must sweep them from the Saffron Chain, we must sweep them from the Mourning Isles, we must teach these Empires this single truth: We stand in the light of the Gods, united and unbowed.
Written By Sydney
Oct. 10, 2020, 9 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)
A place is never truly quiet. It's only ever made to feel that way when you can't see what's going on within it.
So it goes.
Written By Tanith
Oct. 10, 2020, 8:53 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)
What a waste, say I. My mother says, 'make something!'
Lemon cake and tarts. And chocolate cake. And more tarts.
Until the sun comes up.
Written By Talwyn
Oct. 10, 2020, 6:02 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)
Written By Talwyn
Oct. 10, 2020, 5:59 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)
Written By Desma
Oct. 10, 2020, 4:40 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)
I've the permission of Duchess Calypso Malvici to join my cousin Count Domonico's house. I shall henceforth be knows as Lady Desma Magnotta and not Malvici.
I do hope that my letter reached him ahead of my imminent arrival.
Written By Rosalind
Oct. 10, 2020, 12:46 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Caprice
Written By Rosalind
Oct. 10, 2020, 12:26 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)
Written By Porter
Oct. 10, 2020, 11:08 a.m.(3/5/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Tanith
Written By Serena
Oct. 10, 2020, 10:11 a.m.(3/5/1014 AR)
If I had to choose just one thing that I enjoyed most, just one thing that made me always remember I have no regrets about my path to Whisper House, it would be the people. Not just the other Whispers, so often sweet and willing to help you better yourself. I mean our clientele.
No, I shall not give away their names. Their reasons to visit are their own to tell and not mine. I will say this week I've enjoyed everything from helping a young lord learn to dance before his wedding, enjoyed tea with an older gentleman whose family had all moved away, and taught etiquette lessons to a lass from the boroughs trying to open her own business.
It's these small, personal interactions with the people that I enjoy the most. It puts hope in the heart, a smile on the lips. Oh, certainly it is moving to know that you assisted a House in a campaign to get a new law accepted by the people or somesuch. But for me? The true joy comes down to the personal.
Serena Whisper
Written By Dusa
Oct. 10, 2020, 4:56 a.m.(3/5/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Grimgar
Written By Damiana
Oct. 10, 2020, 4:06 a.m.(3/5/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Gwenys
The gift of my sister Gwenys though hugging me was something I never thought I’d have. I missed you, and I can tell you’ve grown as you were away. Maybe our progeny will read stories about your legends like we’ve read on Sugan, Antfortas and other amazing ancestors.
If only I can get bards and scholars to keep up with your pace to record your deeds and send them back to me.
Written By Orick
Oct. 10, 2020, 2:04 a.m.(3/5/1014 AR)
The shop has been a great success and I can't wait to have a grand opening in the summer when the courtyard is in bloom and the cafe area is set up outside. I am considering all manner of rose inspired treats, then we can really call it A Taste of Tor.
Written By Zyanya
Oct. 9, 2020, 11:48 p.m.(3/4/1014 AR)
Chains broken, a world made free, Jadairal was born. The first where human hearts lived without shackle, where daily gift of choice was made to honor Skald. Slavery struck down and choice became their blessing, with each one made a prayer in hope it would soften the scars which still clasped every throat, every hungry heart.
Their choice once made became law: a stone can only be a stone, not carved, or lifted to greater monument. Born to toil will always toil, born to rule will always rule, hands which coins cross must pass them on without grasping.
But those who have will ever want for more and when Caer'alfar came again, borders were drawn with fire. Fire and blood, the lowborn spilled human blood on humanity's soil, until the highborn called a truce and named it freedom.
Client kingdom, bordered by bloodstained chain, proud Jadai, they pretended this was peace and looked away from the future when their children's children might once again serve. Those below did not blind themselves but saw these links not yet woven and knew when the altars of Caer'alfar were built anew in Daobujin Bo, their lives would be first upon the block. For stone must always be stone.
Foundations are not built with gold.
Those who had felt metal against their skin and writs against their soul, who had spilled their blood, given their children to the burning borders, they did not take sword in hand, did not rise in a wave to crash against the walls built of gold to drown those behind them. Skald's gift was not cast in stone or iron or gold but given to all. Those below knew the god of freedom as well as any who perched above. They chose not to rise up, not to cast down.
To mist-wrapped mountains,
their lives on their backs,
children on their hips,
they walked.
Bent and bowed
like wind-shaped trees,
they walked.
Until they saw a life ahead,
hearts hungry, hearts full,
they walked.
Written By Zyanya
Oct. 9, 2020, 11:14 p.m.(3/4/1014 AR)
tables cleared.
One lantern still burns.
I take it with me to bed.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.