Written By Rinel
Dec. 27, 2019, 5:21 p.m.(6/15/1012 AR)
I set sail, soon, for the Isle of Storms. I carry with me the key that was Wynna's, that now will be returned to the island. There will be danger. Perhaps I shall not return.
Perhaps it is best if I do not.
What will be said of me when I am gone? That my skills were surpassed by my obstinancy and pride, as Lord Hawkmour suggests? That I was faithless and rejected by our Gods? Or will nothing be said at all? I do not number among the great Arvani of our time. I have not brought back Gods into the fold, or rediscovered lost Art, or stopped incursions of the Abyss into this world.
I hope that I improved more lives than I damaged. I think, in the end, that is all I can hope for. That, and the smile of my beloved, the feel of her hand in mine as I step into the Shining Lands. The chance to start anew, in time, another life upon the wheel, another chance to serve our Gods.
Perhaps it is best if I do not.
What will be said of me when I am gone? That my skills were surpassed by my obstinancy and pride, as Lord Hawkmour suggests? That I was faithless and rejected by our Gods? Or will nothing be said at all? I do not number among the great Arvani of our time. I have not brought back Gods into the fold, or rediscovered lost Art, or stopped incursions of the Abyss into this world.
I hope that I improved more lives than I damaged. I think, in the end, that is all I can hope for. That, and the smile of my beloved, the feel of her hand in mine as I step into the Shining Lands. The chance to start anew, in time, another life upon the wheel, another chance to serve our Gods.
Written By Ignacio
Dec. 27, 2019, 5:13 p.m.(6/15/1012 AR)
To be back among the noise and stimulus of Arx has its ups and downs. Quiet has a way of helping one keep a mental peace, but at the same time certain thoughts come far too readily to an empty mind.
Written By Zacharie
Dec. 27, 2019, 4:59 p.m.(6/15/1012 AR)
The more time that I spend studying history, the more apparent it is that history in Arvum leads us to many other topics. To philosophy, to theology, to study of the supernatural and the legends and fables of old. Truth and fiction, woven together yet necessary to separate. Building knowledge to act on, yet the building is everything.
Written By Aureth
Dec. 27, 2019, 3:12 p.m.(6/14/1012 AR)
For Rinel I write here publicly that I also mourn the fate of the apostate who was cast from us, who bore the name of Elisha Arrynfield.
I mourn that he would not be saved; that his choices drove him to a point where the Faith could no longer extend mercy.
I mourn for the lives of the Abandoned who are beyond our reach, for all souls are sacred, and all life has the possibility of grace.
I castigate no compassion. Yet reason must not be forsaken for it.
I mourn that he would not be saved; that his choices drove him to a point where the Faith could no longer extend mercy.
I mourn for the lives of the Abandoned who are beyond our reach, for all souls are sacred, and all life has the possibility of grace.
I castigate no compassion. Yet reason must not be forsaken for it.
Written By Lenne
Dec. 27, 2019, 3:08 p.m.(6/14/1012 AR)
I fear I have become rather a homebody, in the last few weeks.
It is a very, very pleasant home, of course, but I think I'm beginning to bristle with the inactivity. After all the breakneck learning, and progress of the time before that, I feel just stuck. No matter the luxuries and wondrous people available, Lenne remains Lenne. And Lenne needs her obsessions.
I suppose my confidence is far more shaken than I like to admit, from events with the family. Large groups were always difficult, but now they seem utterly impossible to cope with. I feel even more of a sham when the topic drifts to important matters, so I'm left with inanities. I've always suffered under my worries, but it has never stopped me from facing spirits, or shavs, or the possibility of things malign.
If I can face peril and doom without flinching, why does simple scorn disarm me so thoroughly?
I live with a Mirrormask. Perhaps I should be using her skills to pierce past my own denials.
It is a very, very pleasant home, of course, but I think I'm beginning to bristle with the inactivity. After all the breakneck learning, and progress of the time before that, I feel just stuck. No matter the luxuries and wondrous people available, Lenne remains Lenne. And Lenne needs her obsessions.
I suppose my confidence is far more shaken than I like to admit, from events with the family. Large groups were always difficult, but now they seem utterly impossible to cope with. I feel even more of a sham when the topic drifts to important matters, so I'm left with inanities. I've always suffered under my worries, but it has never stopped me from facing spirits, or shavs, or the possibility of things malign.
If I can face peril and doom without flinching, why does simple scorn disarm me so thoroughly?
I live with a Mirrormask. Perhaps I should be using her skills to pierce past my own denials.
Written By Fortunato
Dec. 27, 2019, 11:02 a.m.(6/14/1012 AR)
The gods desire to be desired.
It is both an active and a passive thing, desire. The yearning may seem innate, if you have it, but it must be nurtured. You must rise in the morning and retire under the stars celebrating the world and your place in it, striving for the ideals of air and rain and justice and mercy because of love or duty but in any case desire.
We must strive to be honest with ourselves about what we desire.
It is both an active and a passive thing, desire. The yearning may seem innate, if you have it, but it must be nurtured. You must rise in the morning and retire under the stars celebrating the world and your place in it, striving for the ideals of air and rain and justice and mercy because of love or duty but in any case desire.
We must strive to be honest with ourselves about what we desire.
Written By Sina
Dec. 27, 2019, 9:44 a.m.(6/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Alrec
He was a complicated man, and conflicted, as most people are. Though he broke his oaths to House Darkwater, in the end, he came to me and sought redemption, though he did not survive long after. Alrec Magaldi died with a penitent heart.
Written By Lou
Dec. 27, 2019, 9:21 a.m.(6/14/1012 AR)
I went back. To Whitepeak. It was as amazing and wonderful to be there as the first time, even though the bodies in the streets from Lorwroth Kinsbane's rampage there, all those years ago, is still such a sobering experience when you first walk in. I would just spend days, weeks, months, years there, if I could, however the journey is so, so long that you can only bring enough supplies to stay for a day or two, at most, and still have enough supplies to get back. Mountaineering is not for the weak of heart, that's for certain. But it's oh so worth it, in the end, to see her peaks and valleys, and the interlocking concentric circles of the streets below, for you get to see a whole view of the city when you first entering, from top of the bowl above.
I am already planning another trip back, but it'll be months before I can gather enough resources and supplies to return. I could spend my whole life exploring there, and I would be ever so happy, with each new experience and wonder uncovered.
In the meantime, my experiences with Whitepeak have made me think long and hard about what mark I want to make on the world, and what direction I want to take my life. That, and other things, have given me a drive to learn a thing or two - even if I can't be great at it, I'll pour my heart and soul into it making some new discoveries.
I am already planning another trip back, but it'll be months before I can gather enough resources and supplies to return. I could spend my whole life exploring there, and I would be ever so happy, with each new experience and wonder uncovered.
In the meantime, my experiences with Whitepeak have made me think long and hard about what mark I want to make on the world, and what direction I want to take my life. That, and other things, have given me a drive to learn a thing or two - even if I can't be great at it, I'll pour my heart and soul into it making some new discoveries.
Written By Sunaia
Dec. 27, 2019, 8:11 a.m.(6/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Olivia
Cousin Olivia's rather spontaneous birthday celebration was a complete success - if I don't enter into consideration that my personal desire was to find and give her, also, a partner in marriage. That was, of course, the reason for wearing a skirt which, while pretty and comfortable enough, still feels awkward, like I'm pretending to be someone I'm not. I don't think anyone noticed, unless that was the reason for one after another failure.
I doubt it, though. Are men so very intimidated by directness? Again, I'm shocked, finding this already several times to be the case. Olivia is certainly sure I'm the one who scared them off. But, if they're scared by me, how in Gloria's name are they ever going to protect /her/??!
I doubt I'll stop or slow, though I did take a break. But only because I was tired after so many people, after so much noise. After so much talking; I'm sure I talked more in the span of a few hours than I have talked to any in years.
I prefer the woods, and dogs. And horses, honestly; which - thank good Petrichor for at least one blessing - may be possible on account of Legate Bianca's protege, who promises to introduce me to an Oathlander who raises fine, sturdy steeds. Of course, once acquiring one, I'll want to go riding. And riding means a trip to the woods - which I've already promised two friends, so there's that. Perhaps I'll be blessed with a second gift in the form of a stray wolf cub. That would be better than a husband, by my standards, even if not at all useful in finding a mate for me.
Unless, of course, the wolf cub is found to be more charming than I - which is likely to be entirely the case.
May Petrichor bless me with a cub; and Limerance with success in finding a husband for myself, if not also for my cousins.
Gods, I hope Harlan doesn't read this. If you do: Cousin, please try to understand what I'm doing is for the family. I have a duty, and gods know I'm trying my damnedest to fulfill it. And I, as sure as Death's embrace will one day take me again, am not getting much help in this - beyond good Princess Reese, may she be blessed. And her protege, Anisha Whisper, Limerance bless her, too. Oh, and the Mercy, Sophie and her cousin Legate Bianca; bless them.
Sister: I still have no words for you; I'm sorry.
I doubt it, though. Are men so very intimidated by directness? Again, I'm shocked, finding this already several times to be the case. Olivia is certainly sure I'm the one who scared them off. But, if they're scared by me, how in Gloria's name are they ever going to protect /her/??!
I doubt I'll stop or slow, though I did take a break. But only because I was tired after so many people, after so much noise. After so much talking; I'm sure I talked more in the span of a few hours than I have talked to any in years.
I prefer the woods, and dogs. And horses, honestly; which - thank good Petrichor for at least one blessing - may be possible on account of Legate Bianca's protege, who promises to introduce me to an Oathlander who raises fine, sturdy steeds. Of course, once acquiring one, I'll want to go riding. And riding means a trip to the woods - which I've already promised two friends, so there's that. Perhaps I'll be blessed with a second gift in the form of a stray wolf cub. That would be better than a husband, by my standards, even if not at all useful in finding a mate for me.
Unless, of course, the wolf cub is found to be more charming than I - which is likely to be entirely the case.
May Petrichor bless me with a cub; and Limerance with success in finding a husband for myself, if not also for my cousins.
Gods, I hope Harlan doesn't read this. If you do: Cousin, please try to understand what I'm doing is for the family. I have a duty, and gods know I'm trying my damnedest to fulfill it. And I, as sure as Death's embrace will one day take me again, am not getting much help in this - beyond good Princess Reese, may she be blessed. And her protege, Anisha Whisper, Limerance bless her, too. Oh, and the Mercy, Sophie and her cousin Legate Bianca; bless them.
Sister: I still have no words for you; I'm sorry.
Written By Preston
Dec. 27, 2019, 7:54 a.m.(6/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Niklas
Prince Niklas writes something on the memory of Admiral Alrec - and others find it impolite. Perhaps it is, but he is dead - lies do not change that, nor change the man he was, or what he did.
He is not someone I knew by more than reputation, and that alone was sufficient. Perhaps there is some greater truth hidden that makes what Niklas wrote incorrect, but I would suggest the onus is on those that know it to step forward. As it was, what the Prince wrote accords with the known stories of the man. And sadly, tell the tale of someone who placed too low a value on their honour. The silver you gain for your honour will tarnish, it will flow through your fingers like wine from bottle to cup. And in the end, all we are will be memories held in others, stories going forward, our soul returned to the Wheel. Our honour will last far longer than coins, and the stains and tarnishes cannot simply be polished away.
He is not someone I knew by more than reputation, and that alone was sufficient. Perhaps there is some greater truth hidden that makes what Niklas wrote incorrect, but I would suggest the onus is on those that know it to step forward. As it was, what the Prince wrote accords with the known stories of the man. And sadly, tell the tale of someone who placed too low a value on their honour. The silver you gain for your honour will tarnish, it will flow through your fingers like wine from bottle to cup. And in the end, all we are will be memories held in others, stories going forward, our soul returned to the Wheel. Our honour will last far longer than coins, and the stains and tarnishes cannot simply be polished away.
Written By Preston
Dec. 27, 2019, 7:47 a.m.(6/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Rinel
Consider Rinel that observing anything in isolation, without context, can make it difficult to understand scale and impact. We must hold to the ideals of the Gods in every case, but we cannot do that by studying each thing in isolation and making some pure decision and moving on to the next.
Elisha was not just a harmless poet whose ravings were fuelled by misuse of dust - but he was a being who impacted on others. And who others than used as a tool or as a guide to further that impact, and its harms. He made choices, as Skald allows each of us to do, to be who he was and do what he do. And yes, the fact that he was elevated to one doing harm is regrettable, and lies at the feet of those with status who sought to elevate him beyond what he was by celebrating his heresies. But in the wider context, he was doing harm - to the Faith, to innocents who might read his words, to himself, to our society. In the end our duty to the Gods, to the Faith, to Society, to the innocents, must outweigh any responsibility we feel to further be merciful to one who does not seek that mercy and whose actions continue to do harm.
Elisha was not just a harmless poet whose ravings were fuelled by misuse of dust - but he was a being who impacted on others. And who others than used as a tool or as a guide to further that impact, and its harms. He made choices, as Skald allows each of us to do, to be who he was and do what he do. And yes, the fact that he was elevated to one doing harm is regrettable, and lies at the feet of those with status who sought to elevate him beyond what he was by celebrating his heresies. But in the wider context, he was doing harm - to the Faith, to innocents who might read his words, to himself, to our society. In the end our duty to the Gods, to the Faith, to Society, to the innocents, must outweigh any responsibility we feel to further be merciful to one who does not seek that mercy and whose actions continue to do harm.
Written By Thomas
Dec. 27, 2019, 5:34 a.m.(6/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Rinel
Mistress Tern, I mean no disrespect, but I am honestly flabbergasted. If things have progressed to the point where everyone from the bottom rungs of our society to the top are so exhausted trying to reason with you that our /actual Gods themselves/ have to take the time to perform a small miracle in visiting you and even THEY can't convince you that you are wrong, I think it's clear that you have dedicated yourself to being in the wrong deliberately, entirely, and blindly. You should not be known as a legendary theologian anymore but instead as legendarily obstinate.
Written By Juniper
Dec. 27, 2019, 3:59 a.m.(6/13/1012 AR)
The body begins its dying the day it's born. But not the soul. Never the soul. The soul's a wheel unbroken, a thread uncut. I wasn't always this and I won't always be this. That's a comfort for the days to come, however many of them there'll be. But I can't let comfort become complacency, or focus so far behind or ahead I forget to touch what's here. The balance is tricky. Like a mossy wet log perched over a river fat with meltwater. Luckily, balance is change-- always shifting, always adjusting, hopefully always improving. I will be the change, I promise. I am, always have been, and I do it now by wobbling for balance. Soon enough I'll take that first step, and the one after it too. Right now it's alright to feel the moss under my feet, the water cold enough my toes, the spray on my face. Mountain air in my lungs. The hand held out, to hold and lift mine.
It's going to be alright.
It's going to be alright.
Written By Appolonia
Dec. 27, 2019, 3:52 a.m.(6/13/1012 AR)
Rum is really quite an impressive spirit. I think it's like the wine I've heard rumors of, in old tales (I think? can't remember source right now), where they said if you drink it without blending it with water, it will drive you mad.
Written By Ephrath
Dec. 27, 2019, 2:23 a.m.(6/13/1012 AR)
The more I learn of the Nox'alfar, the less I understand.
Written By Sophie
Dec. 27, 2019, 2:07 a.m.(6/13/1012 AR)
As always... Our Lady of Change cannot abide for things to remain the same.
Just as I find myself settled into a normalcy something happens that rocks that to its very core. That is her nature, after all.
Even so - one must not lose focus of the things that are important to them, and they must hold tight to them even through the changes and shifting of the sand beneath their feet.
One must hold tight to their beliefs. Lagoma will see you through these transitions. Always, it is Lagoma I turn to for solace. It is Lagoma who cradles me in her bosom as life changes, yet again.
Just as I find myself settled into a normalcy something happens that rocks that to its very core. That is her nature, after all.
Even so - one must not lose focus of the things that are important to them, and they must hold tight to them even through the changes and shifting of the sand beneath their feet.
One must hold tight to their beliefs. Lagoma will see you through these transitions. Always, it is Lagoma I turn to for solace. It is Lagoma who cradles me in her bosom as life changes, yet again.
Written By Catalana
Dec. 26, 2019, 11:28 p.m.(6/13/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Wash
My third babe, a boy already affectionately known as Gray, has managed capture my heart. He is his father through and through. I had hoped this one would love the land. Would stay with me, yet he is soothed by the rocking of an ocean and calmed by the soft sea lullabies his father sings. He is another lover of the ocean and will become another famed Kennex pirate hunter. I can see it already.
Written By Rinel
Dec. 26, 2019, 10:44 p.m.(6/13/1012 AR)
What must be done when one cannot still her heart? I have been told by my peers that I err. I have been told by my erstwhile masters that I err. I have been told by the Holy Gods Themselves that I err.
Yet still I mourn the fate of Elisha Arrynfield.
The Gods, it is said, are the manifestations of our highest ideals. But whose ideals are those? Am I now become so deviant that to my soul the judgement of our Faith seems cruelty? Whence comes this righteousness of action? Do the Gods command action because it is right? Or is action right because the Gods command it?
What must be done when one cannot still her heart?
Yet still I mourn the fate of Elisha Arrynfield.
The Gods, it is said, are the manifestations of our highest ideals. But whose ideals are those? Am I now become so deviant that to my soul the judgement of our Faith seems cruelty? Whence comes this righteousness of action? Do the Gods command action because it is right? Or is action right because the Gods command it?
What must be done when one cannot still her heart?
Written By Sparte
Dec. 26, 2019, 10:24 p.m.(6/13/1012 AR)
I have made many choices others do not understand in my scant years within Arx. There are those who have sought me out to understand me, others who have sought me out to berate me. Most simply pass judgment without a word. As is their right. The gods know I have done the same, and likely will again.
It is a truth that I have come to understand, painfully, that we all must decide where to invest our time. Who to invest ourselves in, both in time and resources. None of us have an unlimited reserve, an endless well from which to plunge energy and effort on the behalf of others. Not even me, much as I tried to convince myself otherwise for so many years.
I sit here in reflection on what matters most in the world to me. What I should tell others I stand for, or against. How I should describe the path I walk to others on their own paths, with no paths, or that wander and risk being lost.
I feel as though I know the words, but then I think to the boy who came to Arx to become a guardsman. To answer a simple call to help protect people. I wonder if my words today would have altered his path, if they would have been understood at all.
I find it stays my hand from what I would have penned, a list of specifics, of whats. Instead I find within me the words that were in his heart all along.
Do the right thing. Even when it is hard. Especially then. Our heart will know what that thing is when we see it, even if we lack the words to say why.
It is a truth that I have come to understand, painfully, that we all must decide where to invest our time. Who to invest ourselves in, both in time and resources. None of us have an unlimited reserve, an endless well from which to plunge energy and effort on the behalf of others. Not even me, much as I tried to convince myself otherwise for so many years.
I sit here in reflection on what matters most in the world to me. What I should tell others I stand for, or against. How I should describe the path I walk to others on their own paths, with no paths, or that wander and risk being lost.
I feel as though I know the words, but then I think to the boy who came to Arx to become a guardsman. To answer a simple call to help protect people. I wonder if my words today would have altered his path, if they would have been understood at all.
I find it stays my hand from what I would have penned, a list of specifics, of whats. Instead I find within me the words that were in his heart all along.
Do the right thing. Even when it is hard. Especially then. Our heart will know what that thing is when we see it, even if we lack the words to say why.
Written By Harlex
Dec. 26, 2019, 9:13 p.m.(6/13/1012 AR)
A long time coming, I have resigned from the Crimson Blades.
Other things call to me. Though I can't leave the mercenary life behind, I plan to go my own way with it, the way I use to before Arx.
There's always profit in being a sellsword. The peerage sees to that, bless their hearts.
Other things call to me. Though I can't leave the mercenary life behind, I plan to go my own way with it, the way I use to before Arx.
There's always profit in being a sellsword. The peerage sees to that, bless their hearts.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.