Written By Eirene
March 26, 2020, 1:20 p.m.(1/1/1013 AR)
Two of my good friends are missing. I have faith those bastards will fight their way back or do as much damage as possible before they die. Hopefully not die; I've lost too many friends already.
Children, make note, mommy actually had friends.
Children, make note, mommy actually had friends.
Written By Eirene
March 26, 2020, 1:17 p.m.(1/1/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Alarissa
I have two kids at 30-something and they drive me crazy. How you can have 5 at just 30 years old and still be sane is a mystery. That or the gods have pity on you.
Written By Thea
March 26, 2020, 9:51 a.m.(1/1/1013 AR)
I now understand the side of waiting. I dislike it. A lot. During the first snowfall no less. Dont by any means think I enjoy the snow though. Not yet.
Written By Rymarr
March 26, 2020, 8:28 a.m.(1/1/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Porter
It may have been a week or two. It may have been a month or so ago. Either way, someone advised me that a lord had inquired about my health as a result of the mushroom incident. Hoping that I was doing well and hadn't died since that time.
Here. In the seemingly endless sea of white journals.
I have dispatched a letter with Sir Celeritous Karl Shellsworth III. It should arrive anytime between the next three days and three years (I believe the letter sent to Leona holds the record for the length of time between dispatch and delivery). It assures the lord of my fine health and appreciation for the unexpected concern.
Hopefully he gets it soon. Otherwise this stranger may think I'm dead. Not yet, my lord. Not yet.
I should probably write another letter and send it with Patsy. At least then there will be little cause for concern. I'll have to remember to do that before the day concludes.
Here. In the seemingly endless sea of white journals.
I have dispatched a letter with Sir Celeritous Karl Shellsworth III. It should arrive anytime between the next three days and three years (I believe the letter sent to Leona holds the record for the length of time between dispatch and delivery). It assures the lord of my fine health and appreciation for the unexpected concern.
Hopefully he gets it soon. Otherwise this stranger may think I'm dead. Not yet, my lord. Not yet.
I should probably write another letter and send it with Patsy. At least then there will be little cause for concern. I'll have to remember to do that before the day concludes.
Written By Cristoph
March 26, 2020, 8:08 a.m.(1/1/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Mabelle
I don't say things that I don't mean.
Written By Jaenelle
March 26, 2020, 7:53 a.m.(1/1/1013 AR)
I have never been more proud of my people than I am at this moment. The watch tower project was a huge undertaking and took months to even plan before people were sent out to accomplish the tasks they had set out to do.
Whether that was creating the connections between houses and lands, planning the color coordinations for the fire and what it all meant so we were all on the same page, to the small details that if forgotten could have been devastating. The Lyceum banded together to showcase our strengths and to strengthen the weaknesses of others in the process. We are better for this, we are stronger, and we are much more prepared to protect those we love and the neighbors we might not have met yet.
We are the Hundred Cities, we are passionate and fiercely independent but we are unified like we have never been before, and for that I wish to thank the Lyceum for your continued support and understanding while we grow and flourish. Your spirit will always burn as brightly as the flames within the watch towers.
Whether that was creating the connections between houses and lands, planning the color coordinations for the fire and what it all meant so we were all on the same page, to the small details that if forgotten could have been devastating. The Lyceum banded together to showcase our strengths and to strengthen the weaknesses of others in the process. We are better for this, we are stronger, and we are much more prepared to protect those we love and the neighbors we might not have met yet.
We are the Hundred Cities, we are passionate and fiercely independent but we are unified like we have never been before, and for that I wish to thank the Lyceum for your continued support and understanding while we grow and flourish. Your spirit will always burn as brightly as the flames within the watch towers.
Written By Mabelle
March 26, 2020, 12:58 a.m.(12/28/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Cristoph
I heard what you said in the Queenrest Inn. There were also witnesses.
Now there is a white.
Just saying.
Now there is a white.
Just saying.
Written By Allegra
March 26, 2020, 12:36 a.m.(12/28/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Belladonna
My beloved big sister. I just want to make you proud.
Written By Tanith
March 26, 2020, 12:29 a.m.(12/28/1012 AR)
Had a man come into day that looked like the wrong end of a dog. Smelled like lavender and rosemary. It was lovely. He was lovely, but I didn't know that until after I smelled him.
Any suggestions on where I can find that kind of soap?
Any suggestions on where I can find that kind of soap?
Written By Tanith
March 25, 2020, 11:05 p.m.(12/28/1012 AR)
I didn't intend to be a baker, not like I intended to help run the Murder some day. Baking kind of fell on me, when I was working the kitchens at 10 years old, too young to hit the front room at night but old enough to learn a thing or two about baking. There wasn't much demand on me; working then was most a game of fetch, but sometimes we had slow days, especially in the summers when -no one- wanted to cook. One of the cooks taught me to make bread, the only ones bored enough to brave the heat of the ovens.
It was like something miraculous. You did these things, let time do the rest, and the fire finishd it off. Done. -Food-. And that was the real reason I loved it, I could make -food- out of salt, water, and flour, and not just any food, delicious, plentiful food. When you're a little girl with a little boy for a best friend, a little boy who always seemed hungry all the time, who's stomach growls would wake you on those hot summer nights we'd find a cool place on the docks to talk for hours and fall asleep in the same alcove-
I told him I was experimenting but I'm fairly certain he knew what I was doing. It took effort to find a different recipe every other day to convince him it was true, and eventually I had to make up my own recipes out of sheer necessity.
No special story. There was a problem to solve and the solution came out of a bored summer day with a cook kind enough to indulge me. Suppose if not for that, I'd be one of those expert fishermen or something.
It was like something miraculous. You did these things, let time do the rest, and the fire finishd it off. Done. -Food-. And that was the real reason I loved it, I could make -food- out of salt, water, and flour, and not just any food, delicious, plentiful food. When you're a little girl with a little boy for a best friend, a little boy who always seemed hungry all the time, who's stomach growls would wake you on those hot summer nights we'd find a cool place on the docks to talk for hours and fall asleep in the same alcove-
I told him I was experimenting but I'm fairly certain he knew what I was doing. It took effort to find a different recipe every other day to convince him it was true, and eventually I had to make up my own recipes out of sheer necessity.
No special story. There was a problem to solve and the solution came out of a bored summer day with a cook kind enough to indulge me. Suppose if not for that, I'd be one of those expert fishermen or something.
Written By Arcadia
March 25, 2020, 9:32 p.m.(12/28/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Drake
The marks were from a crazed man yes.
But it is still your fault. I shall get your brother to examine them and tell him how Lord Drake led me to be bitten.
It is a worthy tale and should be recorded in a book somewhere.
But it is still your fault. I shall get your brother to examine them and tell him how Lord Drake led me to be bitten.
It is a worthy tale and should be recorded in a book somewhere.
Written By Ailith
March 25, 2020, 4:41 p.m.(12/28/1012 AR)
Grief can be a very troubling and painful emotion. Each of us responds in widely different ways. And assuredly, there is no right or wrong way to grieve. What we'd ask or what anyone would ask, is for compassion toward those suffering from a loss. The sting I can say is not one easily healed, if at all.
Years have passed since I wrote this. I do not claim to be a poet or skilled writer. All I can say, is to this very day, I still step out onto that bridge at the crack of dawn to let the sun warm me as I remember fondly of my fallen loved ones.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The chill of the new day tickles at my bare arms
Upon a bridge, I stare out across the vast field and river
Hello, I say, calling out to the winds
Good morrow, I cry, beckoning for a reply
Winds rustle as wildflowers sway
The butterflies flutter to rest on petals
As the bees harmonize their greeting
Good day
Trickles of water shed from my eyes
And a full heart empties, broken anew
As this discovered wonder waken memories
Tears shed for those long gone
To those smiles and friendly faces passed away
Eventide tumbles in a morning dance with ember
Rosy pink and dandelion light warms my cheeks
Softly, a whisper at my ear assures
See the wonder before you
Remember and feel unconditionally
Of their light and grace
For their memories carry on
It is a heartbeat within you
For love is never far away
And so, I whisper back
Thank you mama, papa
Say hello to my sisters and brothers
Hug my friends long returned
You're never far away from me
I'll hold you in my heart
Years have passed since I wrote this. I do not claim to be a poet or skilled writer. All I can say, is to this very day, I still step out onto that bridge at the crack of dawn to let the sun warm me as I remember fondly of my fallen loved ones.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The chill of the new day tickles at my bare arms
Upon a bridge, I stare out across the vast field and river
Hello, I say, calling out to the winds
Good morrow, I cry, beckoning for a reply
Winds rustle as wildflowers sway
The butterflies flutter to rest on petals
As the bees harmonize their greeting
Good day
Trickles of water shed from my eyes
And a full heart empties, broken anew
As this discovered wonder waken memories
Tears shed for those long gone
To those smiles and friendly faces passed away
Eventide tumbles in a morning dance with ember
Rosy pink and dandelion light warms my cheeks
Softly, a whisper at my ear assures
See the wonder before you
Remember and feel unconditionally
Of their light and grace
For their memories carry on
It is a heartbeat within you
For love is never far away
And so, I whisper back
Thank you mama, papa
Say hello to my sisters and brothers
Hug my friends long returned
You're never far away from me
I'll hold you in my heart
Written By Narcissa
March 25, 2020, 2:38 p.m.(12/28/1012 AR)
The hen ascends the coop to squawk and perch,
Clucking away, earnest her fault to defend.
But such petty noise drowns amid other smirch,
The barnyard brimmed of hens that all offend.
Try as she may to outshine with her vain cluck,
For lack of poetics, none give a fuck.
Clucking away, earnest her fault to defend.
But such petty noise drowns amid other smirch,
The barnyard brimmed of hens that all offend.
Try as she may to outshine with her vain cluck,
For lack of poetics, none give a fuck.
Written By Tanith
March 25, 2020, 1:52 p.m.(12/27/1012 AR)
My mother told me long ago, that a part of why she became a Crafter was the calling that came with creation. She told me that making things when she felt overwhelmed, or worried, or scared, was the best kind of medicine for such days. Better than whiskey or wine, Haze, or fucking. While I disagree with her on that last, sometimes you can't, and making stuff, well. It can help.
Now I'm no Crafter, my folks both got that and a few of my siblings can bend leather or twine or metal to their liking, but not me. I can draw a bit, sketch out an idea and pass it over to one of them and they can make it for me, but lately I find myself wanting to have things made that aren't just random nothings or ideas for those that can make them when I can't. A few times this month, I've had something fall in my lap, an idea, a memory, a carved bit of pearl, good leather, bone, and my brain starts to work and I'm drawing something out. Mistress Corsetina has been kind enough to indulge me, helping me bring to fruition these items.
I understand my mother better now, what she meant. A gift like these, they aren't just ... baubles. They've got meaning, something to hold and touch when I'm not around, to lend a feeling, be it bravery or joy or a connection. Unlike a memory that hangs in the air, a thought that can fade with time or too much drinking, there's something lasting about what you can touch and hold. I know for me, I'd rather have the real thing, but I get it, I understand why a bauble can convey more when it's all you got.
Now I'm no Crafter, my folks both got that and a few of my siblings can bend leather or twine or metal to their liking, but not me. I can draw a bit, sketch out an idea and pass it over to one of them and they can make it for me, but lately I find myself wanting to have things made that aren't just random nothings or ideas for those that can make them when I can't. A few times this month, I've had something fall in my lap, an idea, a memory, a carved bit of pearl, good leather, bone, and my brain starts to work and I'm drawing something out. Mistress Corsetina has been kind enough to indulge me, helping me bring to fruition these items.
I understand my mother better now, what she meant. A gift like these, they aren't just ... baubles. They've got meaning, something to hold and touch when I'm not around, to lend a feeling, be it bravery or joy or a connection. Unlike a memory that hangs in the air, a thought that can fade with time or too much drinking, there's something lasting about what you can touch and hold. I know for me, I'd rather have the real thing, but I get it, I understand why a bauble can convey more when it's all you got.
Written By Alarissa
March 25, 2020, 11:58 a.m.(12/27/1012 AR)
It will be a hard thing for her when she grows and ascends to take the seat of her father. My daughter that is. She must balance the expectations of traditionalists with that of the progressives in the Isles. She will, after all, be their first High Lady of the Isles. Something that I understand is a hard thing to accept. There are many things in life that are hard to accept, but they are, what they are.
I do my best to see her raised a proper lady. To learn to sit still and observe. To hold her tongue until one is in private. Some things are not meant to be spoken in the public but in the privacy of ones own home. She already holds tea parties albeit, with her sisters and brother and the fish in the shrine. She doesn't dirty herself and has a good grasp of manners.
Which is to say I know that when she is with me, these things occur. Less so when she is about with my husband. Or the otter. Gods help me that otter. She insists on it sitting with her during lessons of elocution. Grasps it like a stuffed animal and drags it about. She taught it to kiss the back of my hand. Gracious. And then it offered up it's hip flask. With seawater in it. That, not so gracious. Saltwater is a horror to get out of brocade I am told.
But all the children flourish. Danse likes to sit with me in the atrium and pray or join me in the shrines. Limerance by far seems to be his favourite. He has yet to divulge the why, but it is and so I linger there a little more with him. The twins, well. They have shown fascination with horses. Both of them. Like bookends they are otherwise. Eleyna has been the only one that flourishes little. She has been miserable with illness after illness, and the glassy eyes of fever are not uncommon. I rock with her in the atrium and pray to Lagoma that she be given a rest, frail as she is, sweat sticking her blonde curls to her forehead with her thumb in her mouth. And yet the fever always breaks and my darling girl smiles again. And she sings. Oh but she sings. She is a babbler, my darling. No doubt her namesake would be delighted at that.
Five.
I am only thirty and I have five. Gods it takes so many nannies to keep them all alive and not murdering each other on the bad days.
I do my best to see her raised a proper lady. To learn to sit still and observe. To hold her tongue until one is in private. Some things are not meant to be spoken in the public but in the privacy of ones own home. She already holds tea parties albeit, with her sisters and brother and the fish in the shrine. She doesn't dirty herself and has a good grasp of manners.
Which is to say I know that when she is with me, these things occur. Less so when she is about with my husband. Or the otter. Gods help me that otter. She insists on it sitting with her during lessons of elocution. Grasps it like a stuffed animal and drags it about. She taught it to kiss the back of my hand. Gracious. And then it offered up it's hip flask. With seawater in it. That, not so gracious. Saltwater is a horror to get out of brocade I am told.
But all the children flourish. Danse likes to sit with me in the atrium and pray or join me in the shrines. Limerance by far seems to be his favourite. He has yet to divulge the why, but it is and so I linger there a little more with him. The twins, well. They have shown fascination with horses. Both of them. Like bookends they are otherwise. Eleyna has been the only one that flourishes little. She has been miserable with illness after illness, and the glassy eyes of fever are not uncommon. I rock with her in the atrium and pray to Lagoma that she be given a rest, frail as she is, sweat sticking her blonde curls to her forehead with her thumb in her mouth. And yet the fever always breaks and my darling girl smiles again. And she sings. Oh but she sings. She is a babbler, my darling. No doubt her namesake would be delighted at that.
Five.
I am only thirty and I have five. Gods it takes so many nannies to keep them all alive and not murdering each other on the bad days.
Written By Drake
March 25, 2020, 11:12 a.m.(12/27/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Arcadia
The tooth marks upon the Marquessa Stahlben's neck were left there by a half-crazed northern tribesman during our expedition. For that assault, he met with my blade, though I clocked him with the hilt end for my final blow as I do still have mercy in me.
Suffering no further injuries, she'll recover well, if maybe with an interesting story to the scar upon our return to Arx.
This is mostly to say, if she were to claim the marks are my fault, she's fibbing...
Suffering no further injuries, she'll recover well, if maybe with an interesting story to the scar upon our return to Arx.
This is mostly to say, if she were to claim the marks are my fault, she's fibbing...
Written By Lucita
March 25, 2020, 11:11 a.m.(12/27/1012 AR)
There are times when I keep my thoughts to myself. This is one of them.
Written By Esme
March 25, 2020, 8:49 a.m.(12/27/1012 AR)
Advice to self:
Drinking is fine. Do NOT combine with cookies made by an alchemist.
Do not stay in public if you do.
Hydrate.
Drinking is fine. Do NOT combine with cookies made by an alchemist.
Do not stay in public if you do.
Hydrate.
Written By Revell
March 25, 2020, 7:57 a.m.(12/27/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Iseulet
You.
I like you.
A lot.
I like you.
A lot.
Written By Preston
March 25, 2020, 6:41 a.m.(12/27/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Viviana
Such anger and upset - though I am told it is natural for one to wish to defend a family member. Oddly though it seems you largely agree with me - that this is a personal matter between the two, apparently now resolved, and it should not be made into something larger by attempting to throw silly ill thought allegations against the whole of the Faith.
If I may gently say, Jeffeth can speak as a Godsworn because that is what he is. As was Juniper. What I have not seen Jeffeth do is attempt to say 'We, the Godsworn' or 'We of the Faith' and try to invoke wider authority for his dispute. But as I said, unless Archduchess Belladonna or her voices spoke out, I presumed that was an overreach in a time of emotion and not an official position of Pravus, which the Archduchess has, in her own way, confirmed is the correct take. I have every faith that in private Arianna will be reminded to be careful, and that only one sits on the Setarco throne.
As for worrying about things, when accusations attacking fundementals of our society such as the Faith are thrown around with wild abandon by emotional nobles, I fear it is something that does warrant some note and response. But I can reassure you that I am capable of writing a few sentences for the whites to correct an errant child of the Faith and still organise and command an army to march, and I shall hope that this soothes whatever concern you have.
If I may gently say, Jeffeth can speak as a Godsworn because that is what he is. As was Juniper. What I have not seen Jeffeth do is attempt to say 'We, the Godsworn' or 'We of the Faith' and try to invoke wider authority for his dispute. But as I said, unless Archduchess Belladonna or her voices spoke out, I presumed that was an overreach in a time of emotion and not an official position of Pravus, which the Archduchess has, in her own way, confirmed is the correct take. I have every faith that in private Arianna will be reminded to be careful, and that only one sits on the Setarco throne.
As for worrying about things, when accusations attacking fundementals of our society such as the Faith are thrown around with wild abandon by emotional nobles, I fear it is something that does warrant some note and response. But I can reassure you that I am capable of writing a few sentences for the whites to correct an errant child of the Faith and still organise and command an army to march, and I shall hope that this soothes whatever concern you have.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.