Written By Iseulet
May 16, 2020, 5:29 a.m.(4/19/1013 AR)
I. Tiny Stories
The saddest word
in the whole wide world
is the word almost.
He was almost in love.
She was almost good for him.
He almost stopped her.
She almost waited.
He almost lived.
They almost made it.
II. Tiny Stories
No one warns little girls
how boys with such pretty eyes
who smell like smoke,
who taste like rain,
who talk like silver,
are reasons behind
tear soaked pillows,
half finished poems
and so many sad dreams.
((Nikita Gill))
The saddest word
in the whole wide world
is the word almost.
He was almost in love.
She was almost good for him.
He almost stopped her.
She almost waited.
He almost lived.
They almost made it.
II. Tiny Stories
No one warns little girls
how boys with such pretty eyes
who smell like smoke,
who taste like rain,
who talk like silver,
are reasons behind
tear soaked pillows,
half finished poems
and so many sad dreams.
((Nikita Gill))
Written By Iseulet
May 16, 2020, 5:22 a.m.(4/19/1013 AR)
"What was it like to love him?" asked Gratitude.
It was like being exhumed, I answered. And brought to life in a flash of brilliance.
"What was it like to be loved in return?" asked Joy.
It was like being seen after perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.
"What was it like to lose him?" asked Sorrow.
There was a long pause before I responded:
It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me--said all at once.
((Lang Leav))
It was like being exhumed, I answered. And brought to life in a flash of brilliance.
"What was it like to be loved in return?" asked Joy.
It was like being seen after perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.
"What was it like to lose him?" asked Sorrow.
There was a long pause before I responded:
It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me--said all at once.
((Lang Leav))
Written By Rinel
May 16, 2020, 4:51 a.m.(4/19/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Dianna
It was not my experience, as a disciple of Lord Vellichor, that any of us viewed our service to Him as anything other than a gift. Foolishness, when preserved, is as valuable a gift to future generations as wisdom. There is as much virtue in a cairn that indicates a hidden crevasse as there is in one pointing the way to a sheltered cleft within the mountainside.
It was my experience, as a disciple of Lord Vellichor, that many of us prized the virtue of brevity.
It was my experience, as a disciple of Lord Vellichor, that many of us prized the virtue of brevity.
Written By Cambria
May 16, 2020, 2:59 a.m.(4/19/1013 AR)
Sometimes, when I am struck by a particular mood, I sit and summon the ghosts of my past. I ask them to account for themselves, but ever and always I am met with silence. There I even times when I choose instead to explain myself, yet it makes no difference.
If there is any lesson for me to learn, then I think perhaps it is this: that more often than not, there is no why.
If there is any lesson for me to learn, then I think perhaps it is this: that more often than not, there is no why.
Written By Tanith
May 16, 2020, 1:59 a.m.(4/19/1013 AR)
I heard someone talk about Queen Symonesse having her own pet cow. I have to think this is a new trend, a mark of good taste; she liked my book, afterall. So maybe everyone with discerning tastes in these kinds of things should also consider getting a pet cow?
Speaking of books, since opening the Salacious Baker in the commons courts, I've sold several of my collector's editions. My father doesn't understand what the big deal is about bread, and my mother bursts out laughing whenever she starts kneading dough. Emara continues to be scandalized, and I daresay that's my favorite thing about all this. It's the way she mutters at me, like she's horrified, says it's absolutely filthy, how dare I, etc., but then I catch it; my smile on -her- face, the one that starts in the corner and grows before you can stop it. I am very familiar with this smile. It's my worst tell.
I see you, Emara. I know you want the new book when it comes out. Just you wait. It'll be -amazing-.
Speaking of books, since opening the Salacious Baker in the commons courts, I've sold several of my collector's editions. My father doesn't understand what the big deal is about bread, and my mother bursts out laughing whenever she starts kneading dough. Emara continues to be scandalized, and I daresay that's my favorite thing about all this. It's the way she mutters at me, like she's horrified, says it's absolutely filthy, how dare I, etc., but then I catch it; my smile on -her- face, the one that starts in the corner and grows before you can stop it. I am very familiar with this smile. It's my worst tell.
I see you, Emara. I know you want the new book when it comes out. Just you wait. It'll be -amazing-.
Written By Arik
May 16, 2020, 1:08 a.m.(4/19/1013 AR)
A commentary on steelsilk clothing...
Legendary.
Mythical.
Luxurious.
Priceless.
Are all words to describe steelsilk. A phrase used to describe steelsilk may be something akin to the following: What do you mean I have to undo all the buttons?
Another phrase may read something like this: I don't care how expensive it is.
Yet another phrase could be construed as: Clothes should be rippable! This is ridiculous.
Likely ending in: Well... I'm just bleeding then, stupid steelsilk makes shit emergency bandages.
I am thankful not only were people nearby not all wearing steelsilk when I was injured but that we had some handy bandages. Could you imagine dying because no one could tear a strip of fabric? What were people thinking when they made steelsilk?
Oh right. If you're wearing it you won't have to get bandaged. Kind of selfish really.
Legendary.
Mythical.
Luxurious.
Priceless.
Are all words to describe steelsilk. A phrase used to describe steelsilk may be something akin to the following: What do you mean I have to undo all the buttons?
Another phrase may read something like this: I don't care how expensive it is.
Yet another phrase could be construed as: Clothes should be rippable! This is ridiculous.
Likely ending in: Well... I'm just bleeding then, stupid steelsilk makes shit emergency bandages.
I am thankful not only were people nearby not all wearing steelsilk when I was injured but that we had some handy bandages. Could you imagine dying because no one could tear a strip of fabric? What were people thinking when they made steelsilk?
Oh right. If you're wearing it you won't have to get bandaged. Kind of selfish really.
Written By Jaenelle
May 15, 2020, 11:36 p.m.(4/19/1013 AR)
Recently I was given the gift of a duckling who had no name. I will not judge the giver of the gift, for who judges a gift duck in the beak, but he should have clearly given the duck a grand name befitting his station before gifting him. So a contest was had! Name the duckling, win a sword. There were so many wonderful names, but the one selected was offered by Lord Olivian Malvici!
Sir Thad Quackington, the duck.
Sir Thad Quackington, the duck.
Written By Lucita
May 15, 2020, 9:35 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
At long last, final payment for a Caravel for Saikland is made. Now it is just a matter of waiting till the shipyard can construct it. As usual, I had difficulty thinking of a name and so wound up referring to those who came before. 'The Baron's Vision' in reference to a dream of and building strength and adequate protection for thefuture of the Barony. Both Eos and Estaban had that.
Written By Esme
May 15, 2020, 9:27 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
SQUEEEEEEEE!!
It's a mini horse... in a sweater...
You are the best Nor that ever Wooded, or the best Wood that ever Norred.
You are the best of so many things I'm not supposed to say because then your face turns red and you walk away and I get ponies, but really like the best of the best. I mean really best.
Um. I mean. Thank you
It's a mini horse... in a sweater...
You are the best Nor that ever Wooded, or the best Wood that ever Norred.
You are the best of so many things I'm not supposed to say because then your face turns red and you walk away and I get ponies, but really like the best of the best. I mean really best.
Um. I mean. Thank you
Written By Hadrian
May 15, 2020, 8:19 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
Shoulder to shoulder is far more preferential to teeth to throat.
Written By Cambria
May 15, 2020, 7:54 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
There is something melancholy in most natural sounds, such as the murmur of the sea, or the many voices of the wind. But I do not think as though Nature has a sound any more melancholy than that of rain among the trees.
Written By Shard
May 15, 2020, 7:51 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Dianna
Where to start?
I think I'll start with this: I don't pity the Scholars for doing their job, and I think it's at least a little demeaning to do that, as though Scholars are servants that other people, always other people, aren't treating right. The poor, poor dears. Not you, of course. You're commenting on the contents of other people's journals, having Scholars bring them to you so that you can read them, or asking the Scholars what people have been writing, which I imagine does require some checking. Scholars are not anyone's servants, they've devoted themselves to carrying out Vellichor's work, and they chose to do that. Everyone chooses to be godsworn, even when there's a lot of pressure. It's one of the only ways for a commoner to be respected in the eyes of the Peerage, since the conversation has been about who, and who does not, deserve that respect.
It also makes very little sense to me to brag about it. I'm sure that some do, but I've never encountered an Archlector or a Legate who went around talking about how wonderful it was, what a great sacrifice it was, for them personally to join the Faith. Preston almost always seems aggravatingly self-righteous, but I've never seen him brag. Gloria's might, destroy the heretics, spread the light of the Faith via the sword if necessary, and so on, but none of that is bragging. It's just annoying. Although, there are quite a number of people that enjoy reading or hearing it, so I also suppose that there are people somewhere that enjoy whatever it is that you're doing here.
A Scholar can obviously correct me if I'm mistaken here, but Vellichor doesn't ask for us to only write nice things. He doesn't ask us to only read our own journals, or only read other journals for some sort of enlightenment, or to not have conversations through them. He doesn't ask us not to be rude. He doesn't ask us not to make ourselves look like idiots. He asks us to write as much of ourselves down in our own words as we can. He asks us who we are, so other people can know who we are. Vellichor isn't about high minded intellectual exchanges, or social niceties, or writing at least somewhat decent poetry that doesn't embarrass everyone who reads it. No, those are the rules of the nobility. Nobles insist on decorum and get flustered when nobles aren't adhering to that in public, that's not something the godsworn should care about when it comes to White Journals, otherwise why would anyone who wasn't a noble be asked to write them?
You brought up Skald, well Skald's not about making /good/ choices. Making good choices is great, but Skald is Choice. Vellichor is Knowledge. People can choose to write in whatever fucking tone they want to write in. And, with some exceptions, they can also choose to write whatever the fuck they want to write about.
If I ever have children, yes, I want them to look at these and know who I am and who I was. I want them to know me. I don't want them to know some sanitized version of me, someone who wrote things a certain way so that other people wouldn't get the vapors. I want them to see me being an asshole. I want them to see me saying things that I've been spit on for. I want them to see all the people who start angry scribbling about how I should go back and live in the woods. The people I've had thoughtful conversations with. The things I wrote when I was upset, the things I wrote when I was lonely, the things I wrote when I was missing my people. I want them to see that page where all I did was write the word 'no'. That's me. And yes, I often write /at/ people, and often, if nothing else, to make them angry. That's me too.
My parents couldn't write journals, so there's nothing of them for me to read, and I would have wanted to read that. All of that. I want to know who they were as people and I will never know. So if I have kids, they'll know. They'll know me.
And they'll know that this is how I wrote my real name, by writing exactly who I am. Just not always in the Whites.
I think I'll start with this: I don't pity the Scholars for doing their job, and I think it's at least a little demeaning to do that, as though Scholars are servants that other people, always other people, aren't treating right. The poor, poor dears. Not you, of course. You're commenting on the contents of other people's journals, having Scholars bring them to you so that you can read them, or asking the Scholars what people have been writing, which I imagine does require some checking. Scholars are not anyone's servants, they've devoted themselves to carrying out Vellichor's work, and they chose to do that. Everyone chooses to be godsworn, even when there's a lot of pressure. It's one of the only ways for a commoner to be respected in the eyes of the Peerage, since the conversation has been about who, and who does not, deserve that respect.
It also makes very little sense to me to brag about it. I'm sure that some do, but I've never encountered an Archlector or a Legate who went around talking about how wonderful it was, what a great sacrifice it was, for them personally to join the Faith. Preston almost always seems aggravatingly self-righteous, but I've never seen him brag. Gloria's might, destroy the heretics, spread the light of the Faith via the sword if necessary, and so on, but none of that is bragging. It's just annoying. Although, there are quite a number of people that enjoy reading or hearing it, so I also suppose that there are people somewhere that enjoy whatever it is that you're doing here.
A Scholar can obviously correct me if I'm mistaken here, but Vellichor doesn't ask for us to only write nice things. He doesn't ask us to only read our own journals, or only read other journals for some sort of enlightenment, or to not have conversations through them. He doesn't ask us not to be rude. He doesn't ask us not to make ourselves look like idiots. He asks us to write as much of ourselves down in our own words as we can. He asks us who we are, so other people can know who we are. Vellichor isn't about high minded intellectual exchanges, or social niceties, or writing at least somewhat decent poetry that doesn't embarrass everyone who reads it. No, those are the rules of the nobility. Nobles insist on decorum and get flustered when nobles aren't adhering to that in public, that's not something the godsworn should care about when it comes to White Journals, otherwise why would anyone who wasn't a noble be asked to write them?
You brought up Skald, well Skald's not about making /good/ choices. Making good choices is great, but Skald is Choice. Vellichor is Knowledge. People can choose to write in whatever fucking tone they want to write in. And, with some exceptions, they can also choose to write whatever the fuck they want to write about.
If I ever have children, yes, I want them to look at these and know who I am and who I was. I want them to know me. I don't want them to know some sanitized version of me, someone who wrote things a certain way so that other people wouldn't get the vapors. I want them to see me being an asshole. I want them to see me saying things that I've been spit on for. I want them to see all the people who start angry scribbling about how I should go back and live in the woods. The people I've had thoughtful conversations with. The things I wrote when I was upset, the things I wrote when I was lonely, the things I wrote when I was missing my people. I want them to see that page where all I did was write the word 'no'. That's me. And yes, I often write /at/ people, and often, if nothing else, to make them angry. That's me too.
My parents couldn't write journals, so there's nothing of them for me to read, and I would have wanted to read that. All of that. I want to know who they were as people and I will never know. So if I have kids, they'll know. They'll know me.
And they'll know that this is how I wrote my real name, by writing exactly who I am. Just not always in the Whites.
Written By Dianna
May 15, 2020, 4:53 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
As Third Reflection, I feel that it is my place and my honored duty to state clearly what is known, but what is not wished to be looked or acted upon by individuals and by the world, at large.
This includes what rumors I may hear or come upon, what good or ill I may see. And, again, I find it to be my duty to reflect upon these things and find the truths beneath that are ignored by society at large.
For the sake of those reading my journals, whether in this time or in the future, who may also have caught the recent entry in my sister's journal:
My previous entry was a snipped of a conversation I held with one of the Scholars of Vellichor, which I was so amused at having had that I entreated him to include it in my journals. I make a habit of reading my sister's journals and those of my previous family; so I caught my twin's quip back to me and have responded to her privately - which is, of course, where I believe such matters of private conversation should remain.
Nonetheless:
I am at odds with this idea - of whether such arguments as I have heard (and have not indulged in reading), that occur with some frequency but that have, as I understand, inspired a flurry of activity of late in documenting thoughts, ideas and poetry in the White Journals.
On the one hand, we are surely blessed to have so much of ourselves, of our thoughts and passions penned to parchment and held for the honor of Vellichor. We are surely honoring not only Vellichor, but Limerance in the apparent surge of conversation on love and marriage; and certainly - whether one considers the poetry apparently penned to be of high or low quality - any such rhymes or couplets, poetry of any nature is an honor and a tribute to Jayus.
And yet --
The end is not well, is it?
The end is a war between friends, between families, spilled upon the pages of our histories while thoughts, feelings, activities, poetry well-intentioned and well-thought-out is left to the wayside. Never written, never documented. Not a word, not a whisper, not a hint in so very many journals.
This is why, of course, I've abandoned the regular readings of the White Journals, though I once used to read so often, that I might catch the beat of our fair Compact and know what is meaningful, what may be happening that I have missed.
It grieves me that I, too, refrain from sharing so very much of myself here; that I - rather than risk some public sentiment to the contrary of my words, my thoughts, my actions, my activities; that I refrain from even trying to write - much less to share - poetry, lest some dark sentiment make its way known to me; lest my words are misunderstood - as happens so frequently; and not only to me.
So, I find myself with multiple thoughts and considerations regarding this matter of private matters spilt so hastily upon page after page of journal upon journal - that are not, in any way, connected, nor known to be in a stream of connection, except to those Scholars who now live and recall the general upheaval that spurred such a flurry of sentiment, thought, poetry - and sometimes, insult:
Firstly: I would advise to all and any who read this entry at any time to consider that your words are written not merely as a lament or a sword to punish those whom you hope may - or may not - read them; instead placing before Vellichor your subjective reality that your family, your friends, your children and grandchildren who care for you may know of you and your history - and what matters most to you. What you leave behind can never be every one of your thoughts, nor an account of every deed; so, we must choose what we leave. And, while I do not, nor would I advise posturing before Vellichor's or the eyes of those who, in our future, fall upon our words, I do think that there is a great mountain of life being left by the wayside, that is yet unreflected, unaccounted for in these precious journals.
Secondly: I would advise that, should one feel it so very necessary to document some unpleasantness or disagreement within these precious pages, perhaps give a mind, a thought to your children, to your grandchildren, that, should they come upon your words, they might find reference therein to whatever journals or events might be related. I fear for the great research that our Scholars and our future may have in stringing so much together that, within a single individual's journal, will be so greatly taken out of context as to make very little, if any sense, whatsoever. And, resolutions, I believe, are most important to consider writing. For, if we're to take someone to task within our minds, our hearts, our journals, should we not give them - and ourselves - the respect of making notation of how such matters come to an end?
Thirdly: Should we take insult to the words written within someone's private journals? Perhaps; and perhaps not. That written in the White Journals are, of course, the publicly-available, private thoughts made known to any and all who might wish to read and explore them. But why, pray tell, would we not - at that point - hold the other personally accountable rather than complaining or persisting in a public barrage that they may, perchance, never read? The public critique of such a private thing does more harm than good, I am sure - for it may lead to encouraging more of such bitter ramblings that continue for days on end while discouraging those who may wish to either make amends or who are simply innocent passers-by and learn of this great discord, wrapped up now in a squabble that is not their own, who volunteer their thoughts only in this moment and who - by the very nature of a public outcry - find their words accepted or forgotten in the great stream of back-and-forth.
I yet pity the Scholars who must remove, return, remove and return again so many incidental journals that are related to one another only by a thin current of heated fervor between any two or three or half-a-dozen or more people.
When I consider what information we have lost throughout history and what is found, I cannot help but wonder at the blessing that such squabbles may have been swallowed up by time - and yet, I think it would be a greater blessing to find a deluge of such ravings between our ancestors, that we might have some moment to pause and realize how incredibly ungracious we are being in giving such writings to Vellichor and to our future.
I am no Scholar and claim less knowledge of what Vellichor may deem acceptable and good as tribute. I leave such musings and decisions upon the mantle of the Archscholar of Vellichor, the Legates and our esteemed Dominus.
I am Third Reflection, a Mirrormask; and I have chosen - of my own volition - to step into this role, wherein I may, without yielding to darkness, show both the darkness and the light, sin and ideal, for all to reflect upon. What one chooses to do with such opinions, truths or thoughts exposed is one's own business. As Third Reflection - and as a Godsworn priestess - I uphold and shall always uphold Skald's gift of choice.
I, however, shall endeavor to take this advice, myself - knowing I shall have my own words, penned and held preciously by the Scholars and kept safe within the Great Archives, to hold me accountable to myself, to Vellichor, to these ideals that I hold true, and to anyone at any time who reads them, who may know by my words if I hold true to my intent.
And I leave with you this:
This subject - the squabbles within the White Journals that seem to seethe and breed darkness, though not the cause nor the details of such disagreements - is of utmost import to me. For I revere the gods, all of them. And I am theirs, intending with my every word, my every action, to uphold their ideals.
This includes what rumors I may hear or come upon, what good or ill I may see. And, again, I find it to be my duty to reflect upon these things and find the truths beneath that are ignored by society at large.
For the sake of those reading my journals, whether in this time or in the future, who may also have caught the recent entry in my sister's journal:
My previous entry was a snipped of a conversation I held with one of the Scholars of Vellichor, which I was so amused at having had that I entreated him to include it in my journals. I make a habit of reading my sister's journals and those of my previous family; so I caught my twin's quip back to me and have responded to her privately - which is, of course, where I believe such matters of private conversation should remain.
Nonetheless:
I am at odds with this idea - of whether such arguments as I have heard (and have not indulged in reading), that occur with some frequency but that have, as I understand, inspired a flurry of activity of late in documenting thoughts, ideas and poetry in the White Journals.
On the one hand, we are surely blessed to have so much of ourselves, of our thoughts and passions penned to parchment and held for the honor of Vellichor. We are surely honoring not only Vellichor, but Limerance in the apparent surge of conversation on love and marriage; and certainly - whether one considers the poetry apparently penned to be of high or low quality - any such rhymes or couplets, poetry of any nature is an honor and a tribute to Jayus.
And yet --
The end is not well, is it?
The end is a war between friends, between families, spilled upon the pages of our histories while thoughts, feelings, activities, poetry well-intentioned and well-thought-out is left to the wayside. Never written, never documented. Not a word, not a whisper, not a hint in so very many journals.
This is why, of course, I've abandoned the regular readings of the White Journals, though I once used to read so often, that I might catch the beat of our fair Compact and know what is meaningful, what may be happening that I have missed.
It grieves me that I, too, refrain from sharing so very much of myself here; that I - rather than risk some public sentiment to the contrary of my words, my thoughts, my actions, my activities; that I refrain from even trying to write - much less to share - poetry, lest some dark sentiment make its way known to me; lest my words are misunderstood - as happens so frequently; and not only to me.
So, I find myself with multiple thoughts and considerations regarding this matter of private matters spilt so hastily upon page after page of journal upon journal - that are not, in any way, connected, nor known to be in a stream of connection, except to those Scholars who now live and recall the general upheaval that spurred such a flurry of sentiment, thought, poetry - and sometimes, insult:
Firstly: I would advise to all and any who read this entry at any time to consider that your words are written not merely as a lament or a sword to punish those whom you hope may - or may not - read them; instead placing before Vellichor your subjective reality that your family, your friends, your children and grandchildren who care for you may know of you and your history - and what matters most to you. What you leave behind can never be every one of your thoughts, nor an account of every deed; so, we must choose what we leave. And, while I do not, nor would I advise posturing before Vellichor's or the eyes of those who, in our future, fall upon our words, I do think that there is a great mountain of life being left by the wayside, that is yet unreflected, unaccounted for in these precious journals.
Secondly: I would advise that, should one feel it so very necessary to document some unpleasantness or disagreement within these precious pages, perhaps give a mind, a thought to your children, to your grandchildren, that, should they come upon your words, they might find reference therein to whatever journals or events might be related. I fear for the great research that our Scholars and our future may have in stringing so much together that, within a single individual's journal, will be so greatly taken out of context as to make very little, if any sense, whatsoever. And, resolutions, I believe, are most important to consider writing. For, if we're to take someone to task within our minds, our hearts, our journals, should we not give them - and ourselves - the respect of making notation of how such matters come to an end?
Thirdly: Should we take insult to the words written within someone's private journals? Perhaps; and perhaps not. That written in the White Journals are, of course, the publicly-available, private thoughts made known to any and all who might wish to read and explore them. But why, pray tell, would we not - at that point - hold the other personally accountable rather than complaining or persisting in a public barrage that they may, perchance, never read? The public critique of such a private thing does more harm than good, I am sure - for it may lead to encouraging more of such bitter ramblings that continue for days on end while discouraging those who may wish to either make amends or who are simply innocent passers-by and learn of this great discord, wrapped up now in a squabble that is not their own, who volunteer their thoughts only in this moment and who - by the very nature of a public outcry - find their words accepted or forgotten in the great stream of back-and-forth.
I yet pity the Scholars who must remove, return, remove and return again so many incidental journals that are related to one another only by a thin current of heated fervor between any two or three or half-a-dozen or more people.
When I consider what information we have lost throughout history and what is found, I cannot help but wonder at the blessing that such squabbles may have been swallowed up by time - and yet, I think it would be a greater blessing to find a deluge of such ravings between our ancestors, that we might have some moment to pause and realize how incredibly ungracious we are being in giving such writings to Vellichor and to our future.
I am no Scholar and claim less knowledge of what Vellichor may deem acceptable and good as tribute. I leave such musings and decisions upon the mantle of the Archscholar of Vellichor, the Legates and our esteemed Dominus.
I am Third Reflection, a Mirrormask; and I have chosen - of my own volition - to step into this role, wherein I may, without yielding to darkness, show both the darkness and the light, sin and ideal, for all to reflect upon. What one chooses to do with such opinions, truths or thoughts exposed is one's own business. As Third Reflection - and as a Godsworn priestess - I uphold and shall always uphold Skald's gift of choice.
I, however, shall endeavor to take this advice, myself - knowing I shall have my own words, penned and held preciously by the Scholars and kept safe within the Great Archives, to hold me accountable to myself, to Vellichor, to these ideals that I hold true, and to anyone at any time who reads them, who may know by my words if I hold true to my intent.
And I leave with you this:
This subject - the squabbles within the White Journals that seem to seethe and breed darkness, though not the cause nor the details of such disagreements - is of utmost import to me. For I revere the gods, all of them. And I am theirs, intending with my every word, my every action, to uphold their ideals.
Written By Alis
May 15, 2020, 2:52 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Cristoph
You are /lucky/. If dad didn't tear a verbal strip off of me for saying something hot-headed and stupid and send me to the Seraph for penance, it was only because he decided to let Duke Arn do so instead.
Yes, I had a lot of penance to do.
Yes, I still do when I return to Sanctum and confess my ill-thought words that were spoken aloud or written in journals for all to see.
Yes, I had a lot of penance to do.
Yes, I still do when I return to Sanctum and confess my ill-thought words that were spoken aloud or written in journals for all to see.
Written By Cassandra
May 15, 2020, 1:06 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
I would point out that many of these 'neo-nobles' that some of the peerage seem to having a tiff over, were indeed approved by the oversight of the Faith. Many are entitled to their opinion, but what is not is whether they have proven themselves in the eyes of the Gods. If they had not, their marriages would not of been approved, their houses not elevated.
You may question the suitability all you like as that is anyone's right, but if you want to question the fact then you are questioning the capability of the Faith to speak for Limerance.
I really shouldn't have to make these points, because I assume most people are smart enough to know better. And yet, here we are.
You may question the suitability all you like as that is anyone's right, but if you want to question the fact then you are questioning the capability of the Faith to speak for Limerance.
I really shouldn't have to make these points, because I assume most people are smart enough to know better. And yet, here we are.
Written By Eirene
May 15, 2020, 12:46 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Mirari
I miss him too. He was someone I could trust, and in this life that's a rare coin.
Written By Ailith
May 15, 2020, 12:11 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
There has been a budding of a theological point which drew my attention for it is not a teaching by the Faith. In truth, every faithful devotee, especially of the orthodox, are taught from childhood that virtue is its own reward.
By the fidelity of our oaths shows honorability and ensures our words can be trusted. Through our fealty oaths and alliances by marriage in the Compact are strengthened. These are among the virtuous. These are to be admired.
The aspirational ideals of our gods, their virtues are to what we strive toward.
It is not for any physical or metaphysical reward.
For anyone who would preach such truly concerns me for they miss the true teachings of our pantheon. Everyone deserves the grace of the pantheon, whether they wear a crown or beg for coppers in the Lower Boroughs.
By the fidelity of our oaths shows honorability and ensures our words can be trusted. Through our fealty oaths and alliances by marriage in the Compact are strengthened. These are among the virtuous. These are to be admired.
The aspirational ideals of our gods, their virtues are to what we strive toward.
It is not for any physical or metaphysical reward.
For anyone who would preach such truly concerns me for they miss the true teachings of our pantheon. Everyone deserves the grace of the pantheon, whether they wear a crown or beg for coppers in the Lower Boroughs.
Written By Malcolm
May 15, 2020, 11:56 a.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Thea
Lady Mav --
Can you spell that for me, Scholar?
MALVICI.
Not sure what kind of red hawk she's got. But she's got a dog. Finn's a good boy. Lady treats him real well. We might be friends. No, I think we're pre-friends. Not acquaintances. Not yet fully friends. Pre-friends. Between the two. I need more of them.
Can you spell that for me, Scholar?
MALVICI.
Not sure what kind of red hawk she's got. But she's got a dog. Finn's a good boy. Lady treats him real well. We might be friends. No, I think we're pre-friends. Not acquaintances. Not yet fully friends. Pre-friends. Between the two. I need more of them.
Written By Malcolm
May 15, 2020, 11:49 a.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
Good day to you, Scholar. Don't worry too much -- I won't get crumbs in my Journal. Yes, and my hands are clean. Clean-ish. Yes, yes I was feeding Goofus pieces of my hand-pie. But I left the pair of them outside this time, so at least there won't be crumbs AND snuffling wet nose prints. Or hair. Or a big dog the size of a small pony trying to fit themself into your lap. That's not what I wanted to write down, but I guess you did.
Next time I'll say so, yes.
Next time, yes, I'll bring them in for snuggles.
Seems like the latest murmurings in the Archives are about the subject love, the politics of the peerage, noble marriage and thoughts about a legacy and all. My thoughts about the subject are a muddle. At best. When duty (that WORD) was hovering over my head -- I knew that I needed to choose a partner that was going to be a good pick for Graypeak. I was thinking politics when I started to think about it. Won't lie, then I got selfish. I made my choice based on politics, sure I did -- had to, because of being a neo-noble (another WORD) -- but I wanted for myself too. I wanted someone better than me. Someone that was more educated, more creative, more. Someone would be a proper addition to the Duchy, right?
But I also wanted someone with a curious nature, with mystery, and with an adventurous spirit. A neo-noble, like me, so that there could be a kind of mutual understanding between us. I found it in Lady -- Duchess-Consort -- Delilah. The initial infatuation shifted into respect and a shared sight toward the future of Graypeak. Now, there's fondness. I can find myself shirking work, procrastinating, to sit quietly and look at her across the study. With the books. And I can smile to myself and smile at her, and I now I can think:
Yeah, she can steal my hat anytime she wants.
Next time I'll say so, yes.
Next time, yes, I'll bring them in for snuggles.
Seems like the latest murmurings in the Archives are about the subject love, the politics of the peerage, noble marriage and thoughts about a legacy and all. My thoughts about the subject are a muddle. At best. When duty (that WORD) was hovering over my head -- I knew that I needed to choose a partner that was going to be a good pick for Graypeak. I was thinking politics when I started to think about it. Won't lie, then I got selfish. I made my choice based on politics, sure I did -- had to, because of being a neo-noble (another WORD) -- but I wanted for myself too. I wanted someone better than me. Someone that was more educated, more creative, more. Someone would be a proper addition to the Duchy, right?
But I also wanted someone with a curious nature, with mystery, and with an adventurous spirit. A neo-noble, like me, so that there could be a kind of mutual understanding between us. I found it in Lady -- Duchess-Consort -- Delilah. The initial infatuation shifted into respect and a shared sight toward the future of Graypeak. Now, there's fondness. I can find myself shirking work, procrastinating, to sit quietly and look at her across the study. With the books. And I can smile to myself and smile at her, and I now I can think:
Yeah, she can steal my hat anytime she wants.
Written By Preston
May 15, 2020, 11:39 a.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
As a minor point, your honour duels are the realm of Gloria, not of Gloria and the Sentinel. If you are fighting over which of you is the true temporary custodian of some part of the Gods' Arvum, and your Swords are sent to deal with the matter? Then perhaps the Sentinel is involved.
There is no matter of justice in how ugly, dim-witted or low- or high-born your wifes, husbands or children are or aren't. Simply honour. Do I need to do some kind of sermon? I can do sermons.
There is no matter of justice in how ugly, dim-witted or low- or high-born your wifes, husbands or children are or aren't. Simply honour. Do I need to do some kind of sermon? I can do sermons.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.