Written By Jael
Dec. 7, 2019, 8:39 a.m.(5/2/1012 AR)
Heresy is heresy. It does not matter where you write it.
Written By Evaristo
Dec. 7, 2019, 6:11 a.m.(5/2/1012 AR)
A few bigger projects are in the works, both in the Harlequins and in the Bard's College, all of it great joy to do. A large concert - epic and legendary - to be done by the college. Harlequins are busier than ever, spreading the word of Death. The Archlector of Death is a man of wonderful talent and much enthusiasm, and it rubs off on all of us.
Written By Preston
Dec. 7, 2019, 6:10 a.m.(5/2/1012 AR)
All this fuss and these flowery words. No one enjoyed what was done but the hard nub is that Elisha chose to take a stand against the Faith in writing heresies and fantasies of harm to the Faith. He was advised to stop. He did not. He was instructed to stop. He did not. He was excommunicated and told he must stop. He did not. He was given a final chance to stop and recant or face expulsion. He did not.
When a man charges at a castle, the castle does not deviate it’s course for the man. It’s high white walls might warn the man. The man on those walls will shoot warnings. But if the man continues he will tumble and fall. Because the alternative? For the castle to move? Will tear its foundations and cause its walls to crumble. And we all need that castle to keep us safe.
As it is, Elisha could perhaps have lived out his life as some mad addict in the gutter spinning these stories. It was nobles who found his words so beautiful and convincing and felt the need to say so who raised him up to be more than he was. It was their continued support after the displeasure of the Faith was made clear that made him something that could no longer be ignored. To that end I do have some sympathy for Elisha - the wound he suffers is of his own making but it was others in the name of ‘kindness’ who made it so deep and lasting.
There have been too many times some small number of nobles relish in standing against the Faith and championing those who have harmed it. Too many times the advice of the Faith is not heeded or worse never asked for. I hope should it happen again we can rely on the nobility as a whole to make it clear that we are united as a people, under the Gods, against all that come for us. From without or within.
When a man charges at a castle, the castle does not deviate it’s course for the man. It’s high white walls might warn the man. The man on those walls will shoot warnings. But if the man continues he will tumble and fall. Because the alternative? For the castle to move? Will tear its foundations and cause its walls to crumble. And we all need that castle to keep us safe.
As it is, Elisha could perhaps have lived out his life as some mad addict in the gutter spinning these stories. It was nobles who found his words so beautiful and convincing and felt the need to say so who raised him up to be more than he was. It was their continued support after the displeasure of the Faith was made clear that made him something that could no longer be ignored. To that end I do have some sympathy for Elisha - the wound he suffers is of his own making but it was others in the name of ‘kindness’ who made it so deep and lasting.
There have been too many times some small number of nobles relish in standing against the Faith and championing those who have harmed it. Too many times the advice of the Faith is not heeded or worse never asked for. I hope should it happen again we can rely on the nobility as a whole to make it clear that we are united as a people, under the Gods, against all that come for us. From without or within.
Written By Lenne
Dec. 7, 2019, 5:02 a.m.(5/2/1012 AR)
Romance is difficult.
I begin to see why so many torrid dramas are written on the topic, that make it seem to swing wildly between a beautiful, heart-melting serenade, and a terrifying ride in a carriage snapped off its reins, and barrelling toward a cliff.
Behold the heroic trials of Lady Lenne Crovane, who now has poetry written about her inspiring qualities!
Also, dearest Brother, you are a knight-poet, who seeks to exemplify all the best virtues of the gods. You unflinchingly raise a sword against the dark and horrible things the rest of us dare not face. Evil men (or worse) seek your demise, and their attempts do not slow you. You fight not for glory, or for silver, but simply because it is The Right Thing To Do.
Face it, you're a hero.
You'd better figure out what pose you want your statue to be in. I recommend one looking longingly, but confidently into the distance, as if looking to a better tomorrow.
I begin to see why so many torrid dramas are written on the topic, that make it seem to swing wildly between a beautiful, heart-melting serenade, and a terrifying ride in a carriage snapped off its reins, and barrelling toward a cliff.
Behold the heroic trials of Lady Lenne Crovane, who now has poetry written about her inspiring qualities!
Also, dearest Brother, you are a knight-poet, who seeks to exemplify all the best virtues of the gods. You unflinchingly raise a sword against the dark and horrible things the rest of us dare not face. Evil men (or worse) seek your demise, and their attempts do not slow you. You fight not for glory, or for silver, but simply because it is The Right Thing To Do.
Face it, you're a hero.
You'd better figure out what pose you want your statue to be in. I recommend one looking longingly, but confidently into the distance, as if looking to a better tomorrow.
Written By Mikani
Dec. 7, 2019, 1:13 a.m.(5/1/1012 AR)
It is strange becoming a mother. Nakoa being on the outside of my body instead of inside. I miss the feel of him yet I cannot imagine my life without him in it and he has only been here for a week. How can someone so little, so strange yet familiar imprint on me so? I can only say it is love.
Written By Cambria
Dec. 7, 2019, 12:59 a.m.(5/1/1012 AR)
There are times when to say more is to say less.
Written By Meesha
Dec. 6, 2019, 9:46 p.m.(5/1/1012 AR)
I have returned from Riva with Rishal and Padhma. Count Athaur was kind enough to assure that we had a comfortable place to stay, and I was amused to find familiar faces as neighbors. Abellus was in the longhouse when I poked my nose in, and after a few testing barbs, he offered to show me the sights. I learned much during our visit to the Menagerie - about tigers, and giraffes, and the queer living rocks called elephants.
I learned about Abellus, too. He shrugs off barbs, like a great and shaggy bear ignoring the stings of bees. He is generous, but not free with his time or person. He made an offer to spend time with Rishal, to teach him how to wield a weapon, and polish armor. I thanked him for the offer, for it is a kind one, and I am certain that my son will learn useful things under his tutelage.
I have taken great care to secure a fine education for Rishal, but I cannot help but feel that there are things I cannot teach him. Things only a man can teach him, though that is by no means a lacking on my part. I am not less capable; only different. My child deserves the best, and I will make certain he receives all that is his due.
I wish his father could see him, could -know- him as I do.
I learned about Abellus, too. He shrugs off barbs, like a great and shaggy bear ignoring the stings of bees. He is generous, but not free with his time or person. He made an offer to spend time with Rishal, to teach him how to wield a weapon, and polish armor. I thanked him for the offer, for it is a kind one, and I am certain that my son will learn useful things under his tutelage.
I have taken great care to secure a fine education for Rishal, but I cannot help but feel that there are things I cannot teach him. Things only a man can teach him, though that is by no means a lacking on my part. I am not less capable; only different. My child deserves the best, and I will make certain he receives all that is his due.
I wish his father could see him, could -know- him as I do.
Written By Rysen
Dec. 6, 2019, 8:57 p.m.(5/1/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Lenne
Sonnet for Lenne
No hero am I, dear sister, who does
But raise a sword to bring serenity
To an unquiet mind o'rwhelmed with floods,
With a fierce and desperate hope, though weak.
In my deeds are but the fruit of others'
Long labors, who trained me with tenderness
To stand firm, so darkness will not cover,
Nor to fail my oaths when I face my tests.
But you, O radiant mind, and seeking!
Who with unbowed head, sharing true knowledge
Do shine a brilliant light into the dream,
Kindling in all hearts undying courage.
From you, dear sister, do I learn and grow,
And see what it means to be a hero.
No hero am I, dear sister, who does
But raise a sword to bring serenity
To an unquiet mind o'rwhelmed with floods,
With a fierce and desperate hope, though weak.
In my deeds are but the fruit of others'
Long labors, who trained me with tenderness
To stand firm, so darkness will not cover,
Nor to fail my oaths when I face my tests.
But you, O radiant mind, and seeking!
Who with unbowed head, sharing true knowledge
Do shine a brilliant light into the dream,
Kindling in all hearts undying courage.
From you, dear sister, do I learn and grow,
And see what it means to be a hero.
Written By Shard
Dec. 6, 2019, 7:41 p.m.(5/1/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Sydney
I've never been threatened with excommunication over anything I've written in my white journal, if it helps. Argued with. Yelled at. Told to leave the Compact and go back to the woods on more than one occasion. But not threatened with excommunication.
I never tried writing vaguely erotic Skald poetry though.
I never tried writing vaguely erotic Skald poetry though.
Written By Gaston
Dec. 6, 2019, 6:25 p.m.(5/1/1012 AR)
I mean for crying out loud, he wrote a White about Skald fucking him up the ass in an alley.
To be honest, I like to imagine Skald laughed out loud when he saw it, if only for the sheer audacity.
But what you are all doing in blatantly questioning the Faith is not only lying to yourselves and others, you are dishonoring the memory of your friend, who had the balls to blaspheme in the most childish, vulgar, and hilarious way possible after he had already been told not to write (arguably) much milder blasphemy.
What a glorious lunatic Elisha was among us. Drink to that, don't shame him by calling it what it wasn't.
And by all the gods, don't be the same kind of fool he was.
To be honest, I like to imagine Skald laughed out loud when he saw it, if only for the sheer audacity.
But what you are all doing in blatantly questioning the Faith is not only lying to yourselves and others, you are dishonoring the memory of your friend, who had the balls to blaspheme in the most childish, vulgar, and hilarious way possible after he had already been told not to write (arguably) much milder blasphemy.
What a glorious lunatic Elisha was among us. Drink to that, don't shame him by calling it what it wasn't.
And by all the gods, don't be the same kind of fool he was.
Written By Gaston
Dec. 6, 2019, 5:50 p.m.(5/1/1012 AR)
I really don't know how this can be put more simply for those of you in mourning, so at this point it honestly begins to seem more and more disingenuous and spiteful.
What Elisha committed to the Whites was not capital-K Knowledge. It was /not/ truth. It was the minced, blended, often-incoherent ravings of a poet with a vice he could not control and too much stubborn pride.
Beautiful ravings, certainly. Touching just close enough to the truth to carry the ring of it. But utter bullshit, to be frank, and disrespectful to those who gave him opportunity after opportunity to publish those ravings where they were meant to be published -- go take a look at any noble collection, or visit the Gilded Page, for perfect examples.
The Whites are actually holy to us and our Faith. Elisha's writings were very pretty fiction and did not belong here, as has been explained until I am sure we are all just about ready to scream and shake someone.
I am sorry you all miss your friend. I am sure he is a good person. But he deliberately disobeyed our laws out of what appears to be spite, and that got what it deserved.
To continue to suggest otherwise is to disregard and disrespect those laws in much the same way he did and flirt with the same end.
What Elisha committed to the Whites was not capital-K Knowledge. It was /not/ truth. It was the minced, blended, often-incoherent ravings of a poet with a vice he could not control and too much stubborn pride.
Beautiful ravings, certainly. Touching just close enough to the truth to carry the ring of it. But utter bullshit, to be frank, and disrespectful to those who gave him opportunity after opportunity to publish those ravings where they were meant to be published -- go take a look at any noble collection, or visit the Gilded Page, for perfect examples.
The Whites are actually holy to us and our Faith. Elisha's writings were very pretty fiction and did not belong here, as has been explained until I am sure we are all just about ready to scream and shake someone.
I am sorry you all miss your friend. I am sure he is a good person. But he deliberately disobeyed our laws out of what appears to be spite, and that got what it deserved.
To continue to suggest otherwise is to disregard and disrespect those laws in much the same way he did and flirt with the same end.
Written By Elio
Dec. 6, 2019, 12:02 p.m.(4/28/1012 AR)
Maybe with all of these changes there will be more calls for Champions. There are some of us looking to grow our name.
Written By Sydney
Dec. 6, 2019, 11:21 a.m.(4/28/1012 AR)
What do I have to put scratch to paper to, of late?
Many and more, but as it turns out, the words of Orathy Culler ring true to me. I've never met the man, but his reputation precedes him, and I hardly expected to agree with him.
When our prayers and hopes and dreams are examined and pored over for damning details, details which can have you marked for apostasy, have we not strayed from the intent of the open flow of knowledge? I see that only as a victory for those who would oppose Knowledge, encouraging journals of any quality to be marked black.
Perhaps I should stick to filling these journals with shopping lists and my insipid thoughts on parties, if that is all the common folk may write with any degree of safety afforded to them, any longer.
Today, I perused the marketplace for bolts of linen, bandages, and browsed extensively for a fashionable piece of furniture in which to store my excessive amount of old leathers. Something compels me not to rid myself of them.
Bread.
A sharp wheel of cheese.
A bottle of wine that I might share in good company.
A sewing needle and thread.
A new flask that holds more, and doesn't keep the reek of old alcohol inside.
Some sort of belt to hold my sudden overabundance of blades and swords.
A journal to hold all of the entries I can no longer in safety share.
A busy shopping day, to be sure.
Many and more, but as it turns out, the words of Orathy Culler ring true to me. I've never met the man, but his reputation precedes him, and I hardly expected to agree with him.
When our prayers and hopes and dreams are examined and pored over for damning details, details which can have you marked for apostasy, have we not strayed from the intent of the open flow of knowledge? I see that only as a victory for those who would oppose Knowledge, encouraging journals of any quality to be marked black.
Perhaps I should stick to filling these journals with shopping lists and my insipid thoughts on parties, if that is all the common folk may write with any degree of safety afforded to them, any longer.
Today, I perused the marketplace for bolts of linen, bandages, and browsed extensively for a fashionable piece of furniture in which to store my excessive amount of old leathers. Something compels me not to rid myself of them.
Bread.
A sharp wheel of cheese.
A bottle of wine that I might share in good company.
A sewing needle and thread.
A new flask that holds more, and doesn't keep the reek of old alcohol inside.
Some sort of belt to hold my sudden overabundance of blades and swords.
A journal to hold all of the entries I can no longer in safety share.
A busy shopping day, to be sure.
Written By Riagnon
Dec. 6, 2019, 9:38 a.m.(4/28/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Agatha
How grand it is to hear of Agatha's expected return to the city! I saw for myself how inspired our newly recruited military officers were made by her presence — almost just as much as I was as a squire — and Aviaron's Peak is all the safer for it!
Written By Strozza
Dec. 6, 2019, 8:11 a.m.(4/28/1012 AR)
I pity all soft stuffed toys that children use at play now.
Written By Shard
Dec. 6, 2019, 4:45 a.m.(4/28/1012 AR)
This week has been shit. Last week was worse. That's about all I have to say about any of it.
No, wait. I'll say this. If people keep insisting on trying to fight me, sooner or later I'm going to take them up on it. Quit prodding at the limits of my patience, because it's not endless, especially not now. I'm not looking to put a boot up anyone's ass, but if someone else turns up itching to take a swing at me and trying their fucking hardest to piss me off so they can have an excuse, that's exactly where my boot is going to go.
You aren't the only people with problems in this damn city.
No, wait. I'll say this. If people keep insisting on trying to fight me, sooner or later I'm going to take them up on it. Quit prodding at the limits of my patience, because it's not endless, especially not now. I'm not looking to put a boot up anyone's ass, but if someone else turns up itching to take a swing at me and trying their fucking hardest to piss me off so they can have an excuse, that's exactly where my boot is going to go.
You aren't the only people with problems in this damn city.
Written By Imi
Dec. 6, 2019, 4:32 a.m.(4/27/1012 AR)
I have returned to Arx after months away. It feels like a homecoming. After traveling with my fellows to hear stories of Dayne, after escorting some others to the North and laying eyes on what was once our holding... Arx definitely feels like home.
Written By Elloise
Dec. 6, 2019, 3:52 a.m.(4/27/1012 AR)
I'm still trying to figure out where we park our navy.
Written By Elloise
Dec. 6, 2019, 3:06 a.m.(4/27/1012 AR)
I don't think I'm a very cunning person, but sometimes a memory hits me at JUST the right time. Well done, me!
Written By Cambria
Dec. 6, 2019, 1:18 a.m.(4/27/1012 AR)
Chance plays a larger part in our lives than we would like to suppose, though that does not make us any the less responsible for our actions. After all, every decision has to be taken in circumstances, often not of our choosing: and is life even conceivable in which we act only in circumstances that have been chosen and brought about entirely by themselves? It is our existential burden (or is it glory?) always to have to act as best we can.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.