Written By Martino
April 26, 2020, 4:26 p.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
It has been a quieter week than usual but, with the whirlpool, travel away and down to Southport will take so very much longer.
To think, the rest of the family would laugh when I suggested carriage and a summer home between Southport and Arx to rest in.
To think, the rest of the family would laugh when I suggested carriage and a summer home between Southport and Arx to rest in.
Written By Asha
April 26, 2020, 3 p.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
It's about time I made it through the city gates. Tracking through snowdrifts overland in a wagon isn't the way I wanted to come back, but better that than sunk in Arx's own harbour.
Seems different, these days. Knowing some of the most familiar faces won't ever be seen here again. But then, there's plenty that hasn't changed.
Like the need to drum up work.
Seems different, these days. Knowing some of the most familiar faces won't ever be seen here again. But then, there's plenty that hasn't changed.
Like the need to drum up work.
Written By Sydney
April 26, 2020, 2:44 p.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
I'd always assumed that wearing fine attire to a fine event would be a bit different than it was in practice. Perhaps it's more to do with how hopelessly outclassed I am in the art and etiquette of it all, but I felt quite keenly the discomfort of attempting to be something that I've put in no effort at being any good at.
I make for a terrible beginner, if I'm being entirely honest, journal.
I see every flaw in myself, compare it to every strength in others, and round and round my mind it goes, and it never truly stops until I've achieved mastery at something, or all but given up at it. I can't abide being 'passable' at a thing, and it frustrates me to no end when that is where the extent of my abilities lands me. My debts and failures throughout life have brought me some deal of knowledge as to the workings of the forces that drive the markets, to be sure. To look out for the fine print and details in agreements, but when I see someone masterfully talk down the cost of something down to a mere fraction of what it was originally priced at, for instance, I know I'm woefully outmatched, and shall make no further effort.
The urge is there to throw myself at something new. I just need to inspire myself to do it. If it's not making myself presentable to high society or cutting fantastic business deals - and let me be the first to say I laugh aloud at both of those notions as I am now, then it must be something.
I need first piece together what that something will be, or any effort will be halfhearted.
I make for a terrible beginner, if I'm being entirely honest, journal.
I see every flaw in myself, compare it to every strength in others, and round and round my mind it goes, and it never truly stops until I've achieved mastery at something, or all but given up at it. I can't abide being 'passable' at a thing, and it frustrates me to no end when that is where the extent of my abilities lands me. My debts and failures throughout life have brought me some deal of knowledge as to the workings of the forces that drive the markets, to be sure. To look out for the fine print and details in agreements, but when I see someone masterfully talk down the cost of something down to a mere fraction of what it was originally priced at, for instance, I know I'm woefully outmatched, and shall make no further effort.
The urge is there to throw myself at something new. I just need to inspire myself to do it. If it's not making myself presentable to high society or cutting fantastic business deals - and let me be the first to say I laugh aloud at both of those notions as I am now, then it must be something.
I need first piece together what that something will be, or any effort will be halfhearted.
Written By Valencia
April 26, 2020, 2:43 p.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
Liars and hyenas so rarely change their spots. They are both opportunists that will laugh as they eat out your heart again and again, if you let them.
Do I believe in redemption, you ask? Do I think someone who has betrayed or been cruel can repent and change?
It's possible, I hope. But it is extremely rare. And, the more I live, the more I doubt.
I look forward to a day when I am proven wrong.
But I shall not hold my breath.
~~~~~~~~<~<@
Do I believe in redemption, you ask? Do I think someone who has betrayed or been cruel can repent and change?
It's possible, I hope. But it is extremely rare. And, the more I live, the more I doubt.
I look forward to a day when I am proven wrong.
But I shall not hold my breath.
~~~~~~~~<~<@
Written By Valencia
April 26, 2020, 2:42 p.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
It is with great pain that I read some of these journals that speak of the pain of a lover who has been betrayed and cast away.
Pain like that is like no other. It makes you hurt like there is no tomorrow. It shatters what you trusted. It makes you question your worth.
Even when they say that they love you still. That they are not monsters. That they were stupid. That their feelings remain true and the others doesn't matter... do not take it at face value. Instead, look to their actions, my sweet friends, to learn what is true.
If someone loves you, they do not hurt you again and again. They do not use you or manipulate you to their own end, or treat you with casual cruelly while they sate their own desires and cravings.
The mind that does that, the person lies about love and manipulates without empathy or thought, is so deeply broken that they cannot love anyone but themselves.
There is nothing romantic about allowing someone to cut you in ways you did not know you could be hurt. Then to throw you away. Ignore you. Leave to to bleed. Or worse, watch you bleed out.
And so, my sweetest lovers whoever you are, as much as you ache and yearn, I beg you do not waste your worries upon the unworthy. For as much as I know it hurts, in your heart you know that they would never do the same for you. Even if they say they would.
I hope that you find a love truly worthy of your own. And, that the happiness that comes of it guides you safely home.
My heart to yours.
~~~~~~~~<~<@
Pain like that is like no other. It makes you hurt like there is no tomorrow. It shatters what you trusted. It makes you question your worth.
Even when they say that they love you still. That they are not monsters. That they were stupid. That their feelings remain true and the others doesn't matter... do not take it at face value. Instead, look to their actions, my sweet friends, to learn what is true.
If someone loves you, they do not hurt you again and again. They do not use you or manipulate you to their own end, or treat you with casual cruelly while they sate their own desires and cravings.
The mind that does that, the person lies about love and manipulates without empathy or thought, is so deeply broken that they cannot love anyone but themselves.
There is nothing romantic about allowing someone to cut you in ways you did not know you could be hurt. Then to throw you away. Ignore you. Leave to to bleed. Or worse, watch you bleed out.
And so, my sweetest lovers whoever you are, as much as you ache and yearn, I beg you do not waste your worries upon the unworthy. For as much as I know it hurts, in your heart you know that they would never do the same for you. Even if they say they would.
I hope that you find a love truly worthy of your own. And, that the happiness that comes of it guides you safely home.
My heart to yours.
~~~~~~~~<~<@
Written By Sydney
April 26, 2020, 2:35 p.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Mirari
As much as it hurts my heart to read these accounts, I think it's a wonderful thing that you were able to love so fervently and so deeply - and that's a truly wonderful thing.
Hold on to it.
Hold on to it.
Written By Khanne
April 26, 2020, 1:28 p.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
Dear long lost friends,
I have been very busy as of late (I know, I know, when am I not? But really...). So much so I at times wonder if people send guards to my suite to make sure I am still breathing in there. Rest assured everyone, I am. But even a busy mind finds opportunity to wander at times. For me, I might look out the window to try to think of the right word in something I am writing, or perhaps the dance of the flame in the hearth draws my attention away from my work.
In these moments I often find myself thinking of you. In this case, it is the collective you. The yous who I have held close in my life in one way or another, that have left this life to return to the wheel, or in some cases, to parts and well being unknown. I have been feeling nostalgic for the wonderful letters we wrote to one another, many very long; some deep and philosophical, some just full of joy and silliness, others full of affection. Some were very short, but full of meaning as well.
I treasure these letters. I treasure too every memory of moments we spent together in conversation face to face, but there is something about the written word that is just special.. I am having a difficult time explaining how or why these sorts of letters mean so much to me. I am not truly a poet, even if I try sometimes. In your life, all of you, I like to think the letters were special to you too, meant something. I could be wrong and to you they were just a way to pass the time, but, well, feel free to come visit from the Shining Lands and tell me otherwise if I am wrong, otherwise, I will just continue on thinking as I do.
I remember the moment I met each and every one of you. And in our meeting alone, something special was born. The friendship I shared with each of you began with significant conversation. Okay, well... with one of you it began because I made you smile when pretty much everyone was convinced you were incapable. And how did I do that? I stuck my tongue out at you. But all the rest of you? We sat together amidst chaos in a quiet corner, or you found me amongst the stone columns of the grove when I needed solace, or you dared me to drink something other than whiskey and distracted me from the crowd to focus on conversation with you... and when we parted, I found myself looking forward to talking to you again... and that's usually how the letters began.
Anyway, long lost friends, I just wanted to put into words how much I miss you all. You live on in my thoughts and in my heart. I hope you are well, whether you remain in the Shining Lands, or have been returned from the wheel again, born anew.
And to those who I am still lucky enough to share letters with, I hope you know how meaningful they are to me, and that we will be able to continue to share them with one another for a long time to come.
Affectionately,
Khanne
I have been very busy as of late (I know, I know, when am I not? But really...). So much so I at times wonder if people send guards to my suite to make sure I am still breathing in there. Rest assured everyone, I am. But even a busy mind finds opportunity to wander at times. For me, I might look out the window to try to think of the right word in something I am writing, or perhaps the dance of the flame in the hearth draws my attention away from my work.
In these moments I often find myself thinking of you. In this case, it is the collective you. The yous who I have held close in my life in one way or another, that have left this life to return to the wheel, or in some cases, to parts and well being unknown. I have been feeling nostalgic for the wonderful letters we wrote to one another, many very long; some deep and philosophical, some just full of joy and silliness, others full of affection. Some were very short, but full of meaning as well.
I treasure these letters. I treasure too every memory of moments we spent together in conversation face to face, but there is something about the written word that is just special.. I am having a difficult time explaining how or why these sorts of letters mean so much to me. I am not truly a poet, even if I try sometimes. In your life, all of you, I like to think the letters were special to you too, meant something. I could be wrong and to you they were just a way to pass the time, but, well, feel free to come visit from the Shining Lands and tell me otherwise if I am wrong, otherwise, I will just continue on thinking as I do.
I remember the moment I met each and every one of you. And in our meeting alone, something special was born. The friendship I shared with each of you began with significant conversation. Okay, well... with one of you it began because I made you smile when pretty much everyone was convinced you were incapable. And how did I do that? I stuck my tongue out at you. But all the rest of you? We sat together amidst chaos in a quiet corner, or you found me amongst the stone columns of the grove when I needed solace, or you dared me to drink something other than whiskey and distracted me from the crowd to focus on conversation with you... and when we parted, I found myself looking forward to talking to you again... and that's usually how the letters began.
Anyway, long lost friends, I just wanted to put into words how much I miss you all. You live on in my thoughts and in my heart. I hope you are well, whether you remain in the Shining Lands, or have been returned from the wheel again, born anew.
And to those who I am still lucky enough to share letters with, I hope you know how meaningful they are to me, and that we will be able to continue to share them with one another for a long time to come.
Affectionately,
Khanne
Written By Lucita
April 26, 2020, 12:54 p.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Shard
Thank you.
Written By Sirius
April 26, 2020, 10:58 a.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
Here lies a moment to sit back and return to your pages once more, scholar,
I pray you haven't forgotten me, and that in your eternal wisdom, guard me from ignorance,
Recently I led a sortie of men to the outskirts of Arx as an instructing drill on surviving in the wilderness. My presence's not really often necessary when in these congregations, for we give the stick of teachings to the more aged and experienced. Many agree that, in my youth, there's simply things that I don't know, and at home I should've stayed. I challenge this notion- how am I to learn, if I cannot be then a part of these sessions?
Before we could even arrive to the location itself, a tribesman from the surrounding hinterland of friendly demeanor happened upon our marching muster. A good thirty of us- we weren't many. Most men and women at arms, all fit for violence, so we didn't need fear an ambush. He, too, didn't fear us much- having spotted the Dragon's colors, it eased him. I felt a strange kind of pride in learning this. It saddened me, too; it did so deeply.
After some song, play and mild dalliance, a group of my Sergeants and I decided to rest by a shy flame in rocky formation when the tribesman joined us. He was humble from the start, and found a seat not so far from myself. He told us many stories of how the tribes come and go, but the one that struck me the most is this one:
I'll try and quote him, but in his accent, some was lost on translation.
"We're only run by the strong," he said. He poked at the fire with a stick while doing this, as if remorseful. "But a strong man is only as good as his health and constitution. When he gets old, he loses both. When he gets old, he therefore loses." A strange smile hit him then, as if visiting some old irony beheld only in the back of his mind, us made witness only through this strange, visceral mirth in his face. "And so the new strong man comes to power, and with it a shattering of the tribe's history and successes. I do in part envy the southerner's sense of greater purpose, and the southerner's ability to hide his power, to stock it at arm's length so that others must do more than just swing a sword to get it from them. I tell you this in truth, and only here, as far away from my countrymen as I can be."
The way with which he spoke, his mannerisms. Only a few weeks of distance living from the Capitol, and yet with a culture so vastly different, views of the world so changed and warped from the ways of our people below the light of the Faith.
It learned me one valuable lesson: our fight isn't simply against the woes that betide the Compact, it is against the condition of man as he's spread across this horrid world, more the ones lost than those who are found. Civilization then is our greatest challenge ahead, we must endure yet the tide of woes that machine against it, and survive it for those that come yet come after us.
I hope he finds his way to Arx. I hope he already has.
I pray you haven't forgotten me, and that in your eternal wisdom, guard me from ignorance,
Recently I led a sortie of men to the outskirts of Arx as an instructing drill on surviving in the wilderness. My presence's not really often necessary when in these congregations, for we give the stick of teachings to the more aged and experienced. Many agree that, in my youth, there's simply things that I don't know, and at home I should've stayed. I challenge this notion- how am I to learn, if I cannot be then a part of these sessions?
Before we could even arrive to the location itself, a tribesman from the surrounding hinterland of friendly demeanor happened upon our marching muster. A good thirty of us- we weren't many. Most men and women at arms, all fit for violence, so we didn't need fear an ambush. He, too, didn't fear us much- having spotted the Dragon's colors, it eased him. I felt a strange kind of pride in learning this. It saddened me, too; it did so deeply.
After some song, play and mild dalliance, a group of my Sergeants and I decided to rest by a shy flame in rocky formation when the tribesman joined us. He was humble from the start, and found a seat not so far from myself. He told us many stories of how the tribes come and go, but the one that struck me the most is this one:
I'll try and quote him, but in his accent, some was lost on translation.
"We're only run by the strong," he said. He poked at the fire with a stick while doing this, as if remorseful. "But a strong man is only as good as his health and constitution. When he gets old, he loses both. When he gets old, he therefore loses." A strange smile hit him then, as if visiting some old irony beheld only in the back of his mind, us made witness only through this strange, visceral mirth in his face. "And so the new strong man comes to power, and with it a shattering of the tribe's history and successes. I do in part envy the southerner's sense of greater purpose, and the southerner's ability to hide his power, to stock it at arm's length so that others must do more than just swing a sword to get it from them. I tell you this in truth, and only here, as far away from my countrymen as I can be."
The way with which he spoke, his mannerisms. Only a few weeks of distance living from the Capitol, and yet with a culture so vastly different, views of the world so changed and warped from the ways of our people below the light of the Faith.
It learned me one valuable lesson: our fight isn't simply against the woes that betide the Compact, it is against the condition of man as he's spread across this horrid world, more the ones lost than those who are found. Civilization then is our greatest challenge ahead, we must endure yet the tide of woes that machine against it, and survive it for those that come yet come after us.
I hope he finds his way to Arx. I hope he already has.
Written By Adrienne
April 26, 2020, 10:27 a.m.(3/8/1013 AR)
The Taste of Arx festival proved a warm introduction to this city. Princess Sabella Grayson and our Duke Cristoph Laurent deserve every praise.
This week I commit intentions in writing for one at a crossroads, for one finding a home, and for one braver than I knew. May Lagoma and Gloria light their paths, and may Mangata's favor calm our seas.
This week I commit intentions in writing for one at a crossroads, for one finding a home, and for one braver than I knew. May Lagoma and Gloria light their paths, and may Mangata's favor calm our seas.
Written By Wren
April 26, 2020, 9:14 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
I'm glad to see there are some opportunists in this city of ours. Though, I could do without the screeching.
Written By Viviana
April 26, 2020, 8:41 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Scarlett
I too trust in star iron, and it has yet to let me down.
Maybe you should try some Dust though, it might help you calm down.
Maybe you should try some Dust though, it might help you calm down.
Written By Jyri
April 26, 2020, 5:54 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
Had a most illuminating and interesting conversation with Archscholar Sina the other day, which gave me new insights and ideas for future studies - I owe her many thanks. I hope we can meet and talk many more times, it was a quiet joy and a satisfaction. I've reached one milestone, but there are many more along the road till the end goal, and part of it is to search for lore and information. But, perhaps it is soon time to travel the actual roads, as well. Roads tie civilization together, without them concepts and ideas spread much more slow, without them sharing of knowledge and needed goods would be so much harder. Protecting the roads is so important, there is an order of Knights dedicated to it, and there has been for millenia.
Written By Bianca
April 26, 2020, 4:49 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Verity
Even in the midst of turmoil and natural disaster, there is always time for a lighter note. I can always count on Verity to find them.
She left a gift for me in my study the other day. Several gifts, in fact.
I may never look at baking the same way again.
My only regret is that I could not get my hands on the first part of this clearly sprawling epic. And to whoever wrote this -
I have so many questions.
She left a gift for me in my study the other day. Several gifts, in fact.
I may never look at baking the same way again.
My only regret is that I could not get my hands on the first part of this clearly sprawling epic. And to whoever wrote this -
I have so many questions.
Written By Viveka
April 26, 2020, 4:44 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
It seems that there is a massive whirlpool blocking the mouth of the harbor here in Arx. Seems rather outrageous and preposterous, until you see it for yourself. And then you have to wonder, how in the abyss did that thing just happen.
I am curious about how it happened, and how it can be stopped.
I am curious about how it happened, and how it can be stopped.
Written By Sabrina
April 26, 2020, 4:24 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Arianna
Those who trust in the strength of giants are stunned when the ground quakes at their fall.
I knew better.
But still the world shook.
The echo of the unsaid between us is deafening. Your name now etched in stone, I've been unable fill the void in the cracks with words. Farewell to my sister, whose absence will never go unnoticed.
I knew better.
But still the world shook.
The echo of the unsaid between us is deafening. Your name now etched in stone, I've been unable fill the void in the cracks with words. Farewell to my sister, whose absence will never go unnoticed.
Written By Drake
April 26, 2020, 2:40 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
The events throughout the city this week were just the cheering-up I think I needed. Of course I am never one to turn down free food and liquor, regardless of context. But the sledding, and the dancing, were perhaps more memorable yet.
Written By Samael
April 26, 2020, 2:32 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
My time spent at Pridehall has been long and involving. Diving deep into my advocacy work, the magistracy, and of course my more scholarly studies. I fear I’ve been so distracted, I have neglected friends and family who deserve better. There is much to be done outside the pages of books.
Written By Scarlett
April 26, 2020, 2:32 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
DESPAIR!
DESTRUCTION!
POVERTY!
RUIN!
THE WHIRLPOOL SUCKS OUR PROSPERITY TO A WATERY GRAVE!
ONLY STAR IRON CAN HOLD MY TRUST
I AM NOT ON DUST I HAVE HAD BUT TWO STIFF DRINKS AND ONE EGG TO BOLSTER MY STOMACH IN THIS TRYING TIME
DESTRUCTION!
POVERTY!
RUIN!
THE WHIRLPOOL SUCKS OUR PROSPERITY TO A WATERY GRAVE!
ONLY STAR IRON CAN HOLD MY TRUST
I AM NOT ON DUST I HAVE HAD BUT TWO STIFF DRINKS AND ONE EGG TO BOLSTER MY STOMACH IN THIS TRYING TIME
Written By Revell
April 26, 2020, 2:20 a.m.(3/7/1013 AR)
Oh.
.. Fuck.
.. Fuck.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.