Written By Sirius
July 16, 2020, 11:21 p.m.(9/3/1013 AR)
With the possibility of sounding and appearing as a fool, I'll be inflicting upon all you surveyors of the white journals my very first attempt at writing a song. I'll butcher the stanzas, the chorus will be without rhythm and the verses will have no melody at all, this I predict. Now, the more enlightened of you will say, "But Sirius, you fool, if you start with such pessimism, you'll never succeed," why, yes. Correct.
I won't.
Anyway, here's my first attempt. I pray Dame Sorrel never reads this, or she'll undo our alliance squire-to-dame and cast me into the Maw rather than ever admit association with me in any shape or form. She's too busy to even go through these, right? Should be. Only people with time to waste in their hands, like myself, have that lapse in their day-to-day affairs to come here and record for Vellichor how they failed today. Like myself.
"Cedric Valardin's ghost is haunting Sanctum's Keep,
Half the garrison have seen him, plus the Castellan and me,
And if you think we've had too much of that home-made rum-milk,
Just tell me where them flyin' boats n' ships keep sailing in from,"
Don't go down the wharf when there's no ship in anchor,
You just might hear a dragon's roar and get a nasty shock,
And if you hear an anchor drop, don't gaze out your windowsill,
You just might see a flying ship come sailing down with Cedric on atop.
We don't know why we're haunted here, or why it's he that haunts,
We've got a tontine pledge for when we're all hard rotting off,
In where we're all saving up for when he comes in next,
The best odds says he'll let us up along and we'll buy a ticket on.
Cedric Valardin's ghost is haunting Sanctum's Keep,
Not that we're complaining, since the view comes in for free,
But now and then we wonder what it means for the Arva-ni,
The ghosts of generations past are coming back to haunt."
That's it. Half the credit goes to a good friend called Goodman Jed, whose stringing of a dulcimer helped me put some flavour to this and inspired me greatly. Thank you Jed. This is with hope that any would-be troubadour hoping to worship Limerance with devotion to their music finds a degree of inspiration off of it.
I wouldn't, but who knows.
That's it from me Custodian,
I'll go bury my head in the sand now.
I won't.
Anyway, here's my first attempt. I pray Dame Sorrel never reads this, or she'll undo our alliance squire-to-dame and cast me into the Maw rather than ever admit association with me in any shape or form. She's too busy to even go through these, right? Should be. Only people with time to waste in their hands, like myself, have that lapse in their day-to-day affairs to come here and record for Vellichor how they failed today. Like myself.
"Cedric Valardin's ghost is haunting Sanctum's Keep,
Half the garrison have seen him, plus the Castellan and me,
And if you think we've had too much of that home-made rum-milk,
Just tell me where them flyin' boats n' ships keep sailing in from,"
Don't go down the wharf when there's no ship in anchor,
You just might hear a dragon's roar and get a nasty shock,
And if you hear an anchor drop, don't gaze out your windowsill,
You just might see a flying ship come sailing down with Cedric on atop.
We don't know why we're haunted here, or why it's he that haunts,
We've got a tontine pledge for when we're all hard rotting off,
In where we're all saving up for when he comes in next,
The best odds says he'll let us up along and we'll buy a ticket on.
Cedric Valardin's ghost is haunting Sanctum's Keep,
Not that we're complaining, since the view comes in for free,
But now and then we wonder what it means for the Arva-ni,
The ghosts of generations past are coming back to haunt."
That's it. Half the credit goes to a good friend called Goodman Jed, whose stringing of a dulcimer helped me put some flavour to this and inspired me greatly. Thank you Jed. This is with hope that any would-be troubadour hoping to worship Limerance with devotion to their music finds a degree of inspiration off of it.
I wouldn't, but who knows.
That's it from me Custodian,
I'll go bury my head in the sand now.
Written By Valdemar
July 16, 2020, 10:14 p.m.(9/2/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Jasher
There is definitely enough rum to forget it all for a night or three. Maybe longer, depending on how much silver you have access to. The problem is that when you sober up, it will all likely still be there waiting for you.
Written By Sydney
July 16, 2020, 9:47 p.m.(9/2/1013 AR)
Sometimes, you take a smack so hard that it really makes you reevaluate your stance on people who tromp about in full plate.
It's been days now. Days. This is an awful welt.
It's been days now. Days. This is an awful welt.
Written By Porter
July 16, 2020, 8:56 p.m.(9/2/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Narcissa
I'm glad she doesn't want to throw me down a deep, dark, hole in the ground.
Written By Jasher
July 16, 2020, 3:42 p.m.(9/2/1013 AR)
I wonder if there is enough rum to deal with all of what has happened so far.
Written By Piccola
July 16, 2020, 10:38 a.m.(9/1/1013 AR)
When a warrior eats she should not try to stuff herself. At rest she does not seek perfect comfort. In speech and work she is diligent and careful. But, most importantly, when she is in error she immediately corrects herself.
So it is in archery: when the archer misses the center of the target, she turns round and seeks for the cause of her failure in herself.
So it is in archery: when the archer misses the center of the target, she turns round and seeks for the cause of her failure in herself.
Written By Dio
July 16, 2020, 8:58 a.m.(9/1/1013 AR)
One of my enemies believes that the highest form of war involves the conquest of ideals. Though she had me by the throat, she allowed me to live to see her ideals take dominion.
The strength of Ischia is in its diversity of ideals and lack of dominion. The freest societies nurture the most creative individuals. For my enemy, it is a lesson learned too late that the symbol of the ideal is every bit as powerful as the ideal itself, and sometimes the highest form of war is a dagger in the heart.
The strength of Ischia is in its diversity of ideals and lack of dominion. The freest societies nurture the most creative individuals. For my enemy, it is a lesson learned too late that the symbol of the ideal is every bit as powerful as the ideal itself, and sometimes the highest form of war is a dagger in the heart.
Written By Vitalis
July 16, 2020, 3:36 a.m.(9/1/1013 AR)
Has anyone else been craving tales of Prince Cerdic recently or is it just me?
Written By Alarissa
July 16, 2020, 2:35 a.m.(9/1/1013 AR)
I looked in the mirror today.
I realized that I look like my mother.
I find joy in this.
But then I realized that I look like my mother and I am only thirty years of age.
I do not find joy in this.
This is one of those days in which my vanity takes a grievous wound.
I realized that I look like my mother.
I find joy in this.
But then I realized that I look like my mother and I am only thirty years of age.
I do not find joy in this.
This is one of those days in which my vanity takes a grievous wound.
Written By Kaia
July 15, 2020, 10:32 p.m.(8/28/1013 AR)
It is both shocking and exciting to remember and see the various sides of a single gem. Oh, how his words slowly begin to make sense. Knowledge I've come to find, is something I'm quite fond of. Who knows, perhaps one day it shall be my downfall. I just hope that if it ever comes, the time for me to part from this world, at the very least is epic and heroic. None of that she died of old age nonsense! Neither do I wish for a 'she died crushed by a bookshelf' or 'the book was so dull she died of a bore.' No. No, I want something exciting!
What, you ask? Oh,...how should I know?! I have yet to see the world proper! Stop interrupting me scholar! Write! Write.
So, as I was saying, yes about the recent dream! I saw an elf and a northerner; and, there was a massive storm...a blizzard! And-- *she goes on and on and more scribbling follows*
What, you ask? Oh,...how should I know?! I have yet to see the world proper! Stop interrupting me scholar! Write! Write.
So, as I was saying, yes about the recent dream! I saw an elf and a northerner; and, there was a massive storm...a blizzard! And-- *she goes on and on and more scribbling follows*
Written By Kaia
July 15, 2020, 10:20 p.m.(8/28/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Kalani
My congratulations to the lovely and quite clever Lady Kalani Seliki on her recent appointment as Voice of her house. It makes me proud, as your patron and friend, to hear news of your well-deserved success. May there be more to come!
Written By Kaia
July 15, 2020, 10:13 p.m.(8/28/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Tolv
I got the chance to provide Tolv Mora with an opportunity to join the Society of Explorers. We went out on a quest to rescue a pair of SoE scouts that had been said to have gone missing for a few days, Gil and Aspen.
The man got to prove he has outstanding tracker skills, and even if he is just decent coming up with conjunctions once some clues are found, the man is brave and fast! Once we discovered their fate, the miserable two having gotten caught by a pair of shavs. Tolv did not hesitate.
He launched at a shav with no fear, dodged his blow quite epicly, and voicing a line in a perfect example of crownlader shav, stabbed the beast of a man in the throat with an ease of movement and a twist of the wrist to have his dagger work like a key.
Sure, by the end of it all he looked like an insane bloody mess; but, he saved my life and for that I shall forever be grateful. Cheers to the newest member of the SoE!
Someone go buy the man a drink!
The man got to prove he has outstanding tracker skills, and even if he is just decent coming up with conjunctions once some clues are found, the man is brave and fast! Once we discovered their fate, the miserable two having gotten caught by a pair of shavs. Tolv did not hesitate.
He launched at a shav with no fear, dodged his blow quite epicly, and voicing a line in a perfect example of crownlader shav, stabbed the beast of a man in the throat with an ease of movement and a twist of the wrist to have his dagger work like a key.
Sure, by the end of it all he looked like an insane bloody mess; but, he saved my life and for that I shall forever be grateful. Cheers to the newest member of the SoE!
Someone go buy the man a drink!
Written By Miranda
July 15, 2020, 9:11 p.m.(8/28/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Domonico
I just saw your journal entry tagged with my name...
I am a missive away, my friend, you know that.
I forgive those I care about almost anything.
I am a missive away, my friend, you know that.
I forgive those I care about almost anything.
Written By Esme
July 15, 2020, 7:55 p.m.(8/28/1013 AR)
I think I have decided upon my outfit for the mask. I think. My ideas are whims of my own and prone to change as my feet move from one path to the other.
No matter what, I am not telling Thea.
Not telling Thea.
No matter what, I am not telling Thea.
Not telling Thea.
Written By Sabine
July 15, 2020, 4:02 p.m.(8/28/1013 AR)
Quarterly reports have arrived from Iriscal and all is well. The mulberry trees thrive, the silk worms feast, and our apprentices flourish-- particularly the silk pickers, whose job is one of the most difficult. Not the dyers, or the weavers, but they who must plunge the cocoons into boiling water and then find the end of the thread laid by the sleepy worm, to smoothly unravel the whole into a single unbroken piece. None have eyes so sharp or hands so steady as a silk picker. Were they not artists, they would be deadly archers.
So few understand that silk begins with death. It is the Wheel writ in miniature, the cycle of the worms, but controlled by us rather than the greater world. Even the cocoon baskets, after the worms have eaten their fill, are shaped to mimic the Wheel. They're hatched, they feast, they spin themselves their bed upon the circle we provide them...
And then we plunge them into hot water, and unravel the work they laboured so mightily upon in life. There's a lesson in this, I think.
Silkworm husks, it should be stated, the bodies they leave behind, make excellent fertilizer.
So few understand that silk begins with death. It is the Wheel writ in miniature, the cycle of the worms, but controlled by us rather than the greater world. Even the cocoon baskets, after the worms have eaten their fill, are shaped to mimic the Wheel. They're hatched, they feast, they spin themselves their bed upon the circle we provide them...
And then we plunge them into hot water, and unravel the work they laboured so mightily upon in life. There's a lesson in this, I think.
Silkworm husks, it should be stated, the bodies they leave behind, make excellent fertilizer.
Written By Miranda
July 15, 2020, 1:37 p.m.(8/28/1013 AR)
I need a calming voyage on the sea. Is this possible?
No, I need a ship of my own to hop onto on a whim.
...
I just want to lay out on the deck, enjoy the sun's rays and the ocean spray. Then, look out over the rail and enjoy the view of nothing but ocean for miles.
... Just saying.
No, I need a ship of my own to hop onto on a whim.
...
I just want to lay out on the deck, enjoy the sun's rays and the ocean spray. Then, look out over the rail and enjoy the view of nothing but ocean for miles.
... Just saying.
Written By Arik
July 15, 2020, 12:54 p.m.(8/28/1013 AR)
Given the state of history and the knowledge that has been lost, one wonders who was the victor that saw fit to revise our history so much.
Written By Sabella
July 15, 2020, 9:19 a.m.(8/27/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Esme
Pain, I think. And understanding that or not. I have thought about this a great deal lately and while of course it does not excuse why people might turn to evil actions, it can explain them. And I believe one must try to understand such things in order to help change them. I'd like to believe that a little empathy in such matters could turn the tide and perhaps in some instances prevent tragedy.
Written By Ravna
July 15, 2020, 8:11 a.m.(8/27/1013 AR)
W-hich end of the spear is deadlier? The pointy end you're so worried about? Or, or, orrr...the blunt iron butted side you forget?
Or the center, that will catch your teeth when you're not looking?
A spear is a spear is a master of fear. Oldest weapon second only to the club, so fear the spear, swordsman, and pay attention - or see your own blood.
Or the center, that will catch your teeth when you're not looking?
A spear is a spear is a master of fear. Oldest weapon second only to the club, so fear the spear, swordsman, and pay attention - or see your own blood.
Written By Ravna
July 15, 2020, 8:10 a.m.(8/27/1013 AR)
W-hich end of the spear is deadlier? The pointy end you're so worried about? Or, or, orrr...the blunt iron butted side you forget?
Or the center, that will catch your teeth when you're not looking?
A spear is a spear is a master of fear. Oldest weapon second only to the club, so fear the spear, swordsman, and pay attention - or see your own blood.
Or the center, that will catch your teeth when you're not looking?
A spear is a spear is a master of fear. Oldest weapon second only to the club, so fear the spear, swordsman, and pay attention - or see your own blood.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.