Written By Marcas
May 17, 2020, 4:20 p.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
While I have spent a long time away, I am finally back in Arx. Hearing the recent news after my arrival, I believe I will be of some use in the events to come.
Written By Brigida
May 17, 2020, 4 p.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
I hurt so much right now. I don't know if it is the memory of the pain I felt yesterday or still actual pain.
I think I might have to set myself very light duties for the time being and rest more. Needless to say I do despise centipedes now.
But Petrichor? Know that I would pay that price again.
I think I might have to set myself very light duties for the time being and rest more. Needless to say I do despise centipedes now.
But Petrichor? Know that I would pay that price again.
Written By Kasa
May 17, 2020, 2:24 p.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
Been in Arx a short while now and already people are so damn friendly. Might actually get used to this. Now to find myself a purpose to life... Been contemplating the Champions or maybe even Knighthood? But I think Champions is probably a better fit. Still, I'm not going to close any doors until I see what's out there for me.
Written By Selene
May 17, 2020, 1:05 p.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
I have spent all too long this week contemplating lotuses.
Written By Reigna
May 17, 2020, 1:02 p.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
I am beyond tired. I spent fourteen hours in the Saving Grace, patching up broken bones, trample injuries, burns, scrapes and -- my favorite -- centipede bites. Given the severity of them, I can only imagine the size of those creatures. Actually... given the three legs I have found so far on my person I do not have much to imagine. Five hundred and eighty-three patients, with more still waiting to be seen by the time Kael bodily dragged me out of there. To be fair to him I had fainted for the second time.
I do not feel as though I have a right to complain, however. The vast majority of those I saw to were so thin. Too thin. Gaunt with dull, limp hair and glassy eyed. I know the signs of starvation. We gave the ones we could a bed, and distributed all the bone broth we could. They were down to making a quick gruel last I heard, and even then the hospitals stores were nearing empty.
But it simply is not enough and I am consumed with this feeling of overwhelming despair. I do not know what else I can do. If I sold off all my wardrobe, I could feed how many? For how long? I have contributed to and run fundraisers on behalf of those in the Lowers and still... it is not enough.
I am so tired, and this baby is not letting me sleep. Every time I lay down it is constant somersaults and kicking. I am already nearly the size I was when I had Brianne, and I still have three months to go. Yet. Yet. What are my complaints worth? I have a warm house, a soft bed and more food than I could ever eat. What right do I have to bellyache?
I do not feel as though I have a right to complain, however. The vast majority of those I saw to were so thin. Too thin. Gaunt with dull, limp hair and glassy eyed. I know the signs of starvation. We gave the ones we could a bed, and distributed all the bone broth we could. They were down to making a quick gruel last I heard, and even then the hospitals stores were nearing empty.
But it simply is not enough and I am consumed with this feeling of overwhelming despair. I do not know what else I can do. If I sold off all my wardrobe, I could feed how many? For how long? I have contributed to and run fundraisers on behalf of those in the Lowers and still... it is not enough.
I am so tired, and this baby is not letting me sleep. Every time I lay down it is constant somersaults and kicking. I am already nearly the size I was when I had Brianne, and I still have three months to go. Yet. Yet. What are my complaints worth? I have a warm house, a soft bed and more food than I could ever eat. What right do I have to bellyache?
Written By Gaston
May 17, 2020, 12:47 p.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
When I wrote of things bubbling over the other day, I did not expect it to be what had happened at the city center today. As I write this, my left hand is bandaged and soothing balm has been applied to my left cheek. However, the slight burns are not the worst, not by far. What my eyes beheld after the riots was… madness. Centipedes, a sea of them coming from who knows where! How can there even be that many. One moment, it was just a mob of angry rioters, then some fires, and then the disgusting creatures. There was too much chaos and I am not sure how, I was able to clear a path out for myself down one of the side avenues. I am at a loss of what transpired today, it was as if it was a nightmare.
Written By Gaston
May 17, 2020, 12:24 p.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
It appears I have chosen a very interesting time to return from the Cloudspine as there is a very big problem rumbling beneath the ordered surface of the city. Hearing the complaints and rumors that are now growing louder and louder from the citizens of Arx, one can see that the recent incidents like the Maelstrom is the spark that lit the small fire. Now that things are getting tougher, those who are impoverished are feeding the flames, as their own livelihoods are now threatened. Guidance is sorely needed in these troubled times and unfortunately time is running out. With each tick of the clock, those who are in need will grow in number and soon, the bubbling pot will spillover. If it does, this will not be an easy mess to clean up and I am afraid there will be blood before it is all over. Let us pray that it does not come to that.
Written By Adrienne
May 17, 2020, 12:04 p.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
I will not let the current troubles keep me from the Archives and my duty here to Vellichor. This week has seen many acts of bravery, a tribute to Gloria, and yet the ones most on my mind are not acts of the sword but rather acts of trust. I admire those with the courage to be vulnerable: to show tears to one they would seek to impress, to be imperfect, to share what is closely guarded.
We grow stronger from sharing aspects of each other that in turn strengthen the other. There are few things more fundamental than this. I pray we - myself most of all - can learn from the examples small and large around us and engage the foreign as readily as we do the familiar, the sinner as readily as we do the saint.
My intention then today is to neither Vellichor nor Gloria but to Limerance: every trust kept unbroken.
We grow stronger from sharing aspects of each other that in turn strengthen the other. There are few things more fundamental than this. I pray we - myself most of all - can learn from the examples small and large around us and engage the foreign as readily as we do the familiar, the sinner as readily as we do the saint.
My intention then today is to neither Vellichor nor Gloria but to Limerance: every trust kept unbroken.
Written By Morrighan
May 17, 2020, 12:02 p.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Arik
This all happened in the first place because you wouldn't stop singing. By sounds, steelsilk might very well be an inconvenience to you. Perhaps I should keep this shirt I've been so diligently working on at your request? Hmm.
Written By Morrighan
May 17, 2020, 11:55 a.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Rowenova
Perhaps I need to start signing my letters with that. Ha. I'll not deny that you are certainly the most favored of all the scouts.
Written By Esera
May 17, 2020, 11:01 a.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
At the risk of giving the impression I have nothing better to do with my time than trawl public journals (though this is a common affliction of dead princesses), let me just say the things that regularly violated the sanctity of /my/ bedchambers in my first year as Archduchess were a real trip. A real. Trip.
Written By Jyri
May 17, 2020, 10:57 a.m.(4/22/1013 AR)
I expected there to be unrest, but not on this scale. It is a sluggish thing to grind, the mills of paperwork and understanding of how one thing such as the whirlpool does not only suck water in - it ripples outwards like a slow wave until it covers the whole city.
Increased Guard patrols will not be enough to stop the wave. Everyone must now step up to slow it down. Stop the wave where it begins, by doing right by the city's people that do not deserve this, this shortage of goods that is by no fault of theirs and will not only effect them if we do nothing.
Pointing fingers will solve nothing.
If we want Civilization to thrive in Gild's name, we build so that all benefit, and we have charity in our hearts and protect that which she stands for. Let us turn to the Kind Godess and remember her tenets.
Increased Guard patrols will not be enough to stop the wave. Everyone must now step up to slow it down. Stop the wave where it begins, by doing right by the city's people that do not deserve this, this shortage of goods that is by no fault of theirs and will not only effect them if we do nothing.
Pointing fingers will solve nothing.
If we want Civilization to thrive in Gild's name, we build so that all benefit, and we have charity in our hearts and protect that which she stands for. Let us turn to the Kind Godess and remember her tenets.
Written By Dycard
May 17, 2020, 7:26 a.m.(4/21/1013 AR)
My propensity for clumsy injury is becoming something of a habit, scholar. Yesterday I managed to get a barrel of pitch thrown at me - I don't mean that I was doused in pitch, though that happened too - I mean that the /entire barrel/ was hurled at me. I /think/ the ensuing crack was from the barrel breaking, though the lance of pain that shoots up my side whenever I move wrong suggests otherwise. I shall go see a healer once I have finished this record.
As for why the barrel was thrown - I am sure the records will describe the riot in the dockyards in detail, as the Iron Guard were present in force, but as knowledge and perspective seems to be lost so easily, this White will hopefully serve as a backup.
With the whirlpool in the bay, food has been scarce, and it's true that while the Uppers and the Wards have been effected only in that household chefs are having to pay more for finer foods, the Lower Boroughs have truly suffered. I had liked to think I had a good measure of the mood and the state of affairs in the dockyards, but I will admit that my privilege as a Peer blinded me to just how dire matters had gotten. That ignorance is my own failing, and I will own it.
With starvation becoming a real threat, and the disparity between the haves and the have-nots being more obvious and keenly felt than ever, resentment turned to desperate rage and a riot broke out in the docks. Historians will debate at length whether it was an inevitability, whether the civic leaders of Arx should have seen it coming and prevented it or not - it is my opinion that the kindling was carefully gathered by someone or several someones, but there is no proof of that. Either way, whether the fuel for the flames was gathered deliberately and whether the spark was struck with malicious intent, it's undeniable that the fuel itself existed due to the negligence and lethargy of the ruling class.
The details of the riot itself are rather simple - a throng of hundreds, if not thousands of disillusioned and starving commoners poured into the docks, intending to break into the warehouses. While this may be understandable, many in their number bore torches and pitch, and some were clearly as bent on vengeance and destruction as food.
Somehow, scholar - somehow, we managed to calm the situation. Lady Rodica saved the ships moored in the dockyards, and the Iron Guard showed commendable restraint, even with one of their own in danger. I personally opened one of the warehouses and somehow managed to distribute the food stored there in as close to an orderly fashion as possible - I am expecting an insensate letter from the owner any hour now - and while it would be hopelessly naive to suggest that nobody got hurt, I don't believe there were any fatalities. For one night, at least, the violence was quelled and the people fed.
The matter is far from resolved, however. The disparity between those of means - the Peerage, in particular - and those without is a severe problem, and the grievances of the hungry have merit. Something needs to be done about this.
I could forsake my title, convert my vessel into a hostel for the homeless, and so on - but I don't imagine that would do more than be a drop in the ocean. It's easy to say this from the comfort of my ship's cabin, dressed in a change of clean clothes after a warm bath, of course - but I truly don't believe trading disparity for anarchy will fix things.
So instead, I'll see what I can do to improve matters. One thing is for certain, that whirlpool's disruption of shipments has gone on long enough. If it cannot be quelled through prayer to the Faith or beseeching of the Spirits, we'll have to see if it can be overcome through simple determination and good sailing. That, at least, I can help with.
As for why the barrel was thrown - I am sure the records will describe the riot in the dockyards in detail, as the Iron Guard were present in force, but as knowledge and perspective seems to be lost so easily, this White will hopefully serve as a backup.
With the whirlpool in the bay, food has been scarce, and it's true that while the Uppers and the Wards have been effected only in that household chefs are having to pay more for finer foods, the Lower Boroughs have truly suffered. I had liked to think I had a good measure of the mood and the state of affairs in the dockyards, but I will admit that my privilege as a Peer blinded me to just how dire matters had gotten. That ignorance is my own failing, and I will own it.
With starvation becoming a real threat, and the disparity between the haves and the have-nots being more obvious and keenly felt than ever, resentment turned to desperate rage and a riot broke out in the docks. Historians will debate at length whether it was an inevitability, whether the civic leaders of Arx should have seen it coming and prevented it or not - it is my opinion that the kindling was carefully gathered by someone or several someones, but there is no proof of that. Either way, whether the fuel for the flames was gathered deliberately and whether the spark was struck with malicious intent, it's undeniable that the fuel itself existed due to the negligence and lethargy of the ruling class.
The details of the riot itself are rather simple - a throng of hundreds, if not thousands of disillusioned and starving commoners poured into the docks, intending to break into the warehouses. While this may be understandable, many in their number bore torches and pitch, and some were clearly as bent on vengeance and destruction as food.
Somehow, scholar - somehow, we managed to calm the situation. Lady Rodica saved the ships moored in the dockyards, and the Iron Guard showed commendable restraint, even with one of their own in danger. I personally opened one of the warehouses and somehow managed to distribute the food stored there in as close to an orderly fashion as possible - I am expecting an insensate letter from the owner any hour now - and while it would be hopelessly naive to suggest that nobody got hurt, I don't believe there were any fatalities. For one night, at least, the violence was quelled and the people fed.
The matter is far from resolved, however. The disparity between those of means - the Peerage, in particular - and those without is a severe problem, and the grievances of the hungry have merit. Something needs to be done about this.
I could forsake my title, convert my vessel into a hostel for the homeless, and so on - but I don't imagine that would do more than be a drop in the ocean. It's easy to say this from the comfort of my ship's cabin, dressed in a change of clean clothes after a warm bath, of course - but I truly don't believe trading disparity for anarchy will fix things.
So instead, I'll see what I can do to improve matters. One thing is for certain, that whirlpool's disruption of shipments has gone on long enough. If it cannot be quelled through prayer to the Faith or beseeching of the Spirits, we'll have to see if it can be overcome through simple determination and good sailing. That, at least, I can help with.
Written By Corrigan
May 17, 2020, 6:02 a.m.(4/21/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Sydney
It's going to look like I'm white-knighting for my girlfriend here, but screw it, there's at least a small chance you'll take this on board:
What the florist's saying, Red, is that /internally/ in the Lowers, you've got folk that aren't that different to Silks.
Sure, if a Silk decides that a commoner's incurred his wrath, the commoner dies, and it doesn't go the same way if Master Mudshoveler doesn't like the Silk. Which is very sad and not really the point.
That's not news. Revell's point was that among the poor and unwashed, you've got the same issues. There are thugs that put themselves at the top of the dung pile, demanding all the other poor people bend the knee in all but name with the threat of an alley shanking if respect's not due. You really think that the Ulbrans' protection racket's to protect the poor sods paying it from /other/ threats?
There are self-elected authorities in the Lowers who demand respect in just the same way the Silks do. Only difference is the Silks'll hang you, whereas the thugs'll shiv you in an alley and dump you in the pit, minus your boots.
What the florist's saying, Red, is that /internally/ in the Lowers, you've got folk that aren't that different to Silks.
Sure, if a Silk decides that a commoner's incurred his wrath, the commoner dies, and it doesn't go the same way if Master Mudshoveler doesn't like the Silk. Which is very sad and not really the point.
That's not news. Revell's point was that among the poor and unwashed, you've got the same issues. There are thugs that put themselves at the top of the dung pile, demanding all the other poor people bend the knee in all but name with the threat of an alley shanking if respect's not due. You really think that the Ulbrans' protection racket's to protect the poor sods paying it from /other/ threats?
There are self-elected authorities in the Lowers who demand respect in just the same way the Silks do. Only difference is the Silks'll hang you, whereas the thugs'll shiv you in an alley and dump you in the pit, minus your boots.
Written By Alarissa
May 17, 2020, 1:59 a.m.(4/21/1013 AR)
In the dead of the night many years ago, I felt safety shattered. The sanctity of my home, of my rooms were violated in swathes of blood slicked floors as men, women and children were slaughtered and I was left to listen to my husband take his last breath as he drowned in his own blood.
You do not realize how much blood is contained within a person till it has spread across the floor and seeped between your toes, soaking up the hem of your night gown. Or how silent death is when you are the only person left breathing in the room. We much such a soft racket. The rustle of our limbs, our breath. A press of lips. Things you do not do when you have left what is your body for the Shining Lands.
I never felt safe again. Not for years. I did eventually though. To hear Victus in bed, the rustle of his beard against a pillow, the snore of Astrids as she sneaks out of the nursery to climb into bed beside her father. The whine of Elegance and Matilda as they sleep before the fire chasing rabbits in their dreams. The swish of the demon's tail on the coverlets and furs. I could sleep at night when life permitted me to. Secure in the knowledge that anyone who tried to come into our marital bed with ill intent, would meet Barathrum personally. For even that blade sleeps in bed with us and it brings security.
There are no blood slicked floors. No empty eyes. Not this time. But the sanctity of my home, of my bedchambers have been violated again. Door left open, things rifled through like it was some market stall. Drawers open, shelves with items precious in thought and heart moved or taken. Precious but small objects taken because they were easy to grab. Perfume bottles spilt and cosmetics toppled as they took no care with my belongings save to figure out which would bring them more value on the streets likely.
I do not feel safe. I do not want to be in the city. They were in my bedchamber. My mind churns to what if they come back. What will they take then. I keep seeing the hems of my nightgown, soaked in red. My breath stopping in my chest. What if they came for blood instead of baubles? For lives, instead of food.
Twice now, in the halls of a High Lord's estate. Twice.
You do not realize how much blood is contained within a person till it has spread across the floor and seeped between your toes, soaking up the hem of your night gown. Or how silent death is when you are the only person left breathing in the room. We much such a soft racket. The rustle of our limbs, our breath. A press of lips. Things you do not do when you have left what is your body for the Shining Lands.
I never felt safe again. Not for years. I did eventually though. To hear Victus in bed, the rustle of his beard against a pillow, the snore of Astrids as she sneaks out of the nursery to climb into bed beside her father. The whine of Elegance and Matilda as they sleep before the fire chasing rabbits in their dreams. The swish of the demon's tail on the coverlets and furs. I could sleep at night when life permitted me to. Secure in the knowledge that anyone who tried to come into our marital bed with ill intent, would meet Barathrum personally. For even that blade sleeps in bed with us and it brings security.
There are no blood slicked floors. No empty eyes. Not this time. But the sanctity of my home, of my bedchambers have been violated again. Door left open, things rifled through like it was some market stall. Drawers open, shelves with items precious in thought and heart moved or taken. Precious but small objects taken because they were easy to grab. Perfume bottles spilt and cosmetics toppled as they took no care with my belongings save to figure out which would bring them more value on the streets likely.
I do not feel safe. I do not want to be in the city. They were in my bedchamber. My mind churns to what if they come back. What will they take then. I keep seeing the hems of my nightgown, soaked in red. My breath stopping in my chest. What if they came for blood instead of baubles? For lives, instead of food.
Twice now, in the halls of a High Lord's estate. Twice.
Written By Scarlett
May 17, 2020, 1:51 a.m.(4/21/1013 AR)
I want all of you to know that I had nothing to do with any of this.
Written By Hamish
May 17, 2020, 1:36 a.m.(4/21/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Sirius
Small swarthy cretins?!
How dare you!
How dare you!
Written By Eirene
May 17, 2020, 12:43 a.m.(4/21/1013 AR)
Apparently I'm not the only person who's had to suffer through being suffocated by a big bug made of other bugs.
Written By Revell
May 17, 2020, 12:05 a.m.(4/21/1013 AR)
Disgusting.
And I'm not talking about the bugs.
And I'm not talking about the bugs.
Written By Ida
May 16, 2020, 10:45 p.m.(4/21/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Sirius
Prince Sirius Valardin - you do me a great honor with such words in the whites. That you trusted me with a commission of such importance, as well, leaves me both humbled and appreciative. It was your vision that brought it to life, really. I hope the blade serves you well and for many years yet to come.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.