Written By Rosalind
Dec. 1, 2019, 3:14 p.m.(4/18/1012 AR)
So I would like to thank hehe Stalhbens for helping me when cool off the other day. Literally! And also Vola, because well..Vola is great!
Written By Brigida
Dec. 1, 2019, 9:08 a.m.(4/18/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Dianna
So now we have a new Sister joining the Godsworn in the form of Sister Dianna. The ceremony swearing her in reminded me of my Vows taken many years ago although I did not have royalty attend mine.
It warms my heart (which is not made of stone or thorns or iron) to see the Faithful enriched by such a capable young woman.
It warms my heart (which is not made of stone or thorns or iron) to see the Faithful enriched by such a capable young woman.
Written By Colette
Dec. 1, 2019, 9:04 a.m.(4/18/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Kedehern
There are several of my family members I feel are still hiding from me. Worry not cousins, uncle and such. I can and will find you.
Written By Elisha
Nov. 30, 2019, 10:40 p.m.(4/17/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
This is a story from a long time hence (and my plea to the Blessed Vayne):
When the Mother of Furrows throws open Her earthen arms, the dead march across Arvum in raucous celebration. Spines rattle and bone timbrels shake with merriment.
However, the First Mirrormask and his sister the Voice of Death take fright, believing in nothing so much as Arvum's fragility. For eleven days and thirteen nights, the siblings bargain with the spirit of Arx Mountain. They offer pledges of cinnabar, horseradish, and fealty until the spirit submits, allowing them to hew a city from the great mountain's corpse.
The siblings weave stories of timidity and obedience into the city's foundations, shaping a grand necropolis to entrap the joyous dead.
Death is not pleased; She curses the First Mirrormask with longevity.
He lives for centuries, watching his children die, then his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, until his heart is too empty even for darkness. And so he turns to a queen of the Abyssal Court, and offers his allegiance in exchange for the queen's pledge to cast his soul back onto the wheel.
During the time of the First Mirrormask's demonic service, he wages war, punishes dissent, and preaches the primacy of obedience. Monsters kneel to him; even the Shards of the Abyss bow down.
Witnessing these horrors, the First Mirrormask's subjects betray him. In secret his freeborn son (known as the Gray Son, because he refuses both black and white) prepares to slay his own father. Not with a trap, not in a battle or as a punishment: those are what led his father astray, and the Gray Son knows that a sword cannot heal a stab wound, not matter how cunningly-wrought.
When the Gray Son walks into his father's twisted Hall, he wields no weapon save love. The very same weapon that drove his father and the Voice to pay such a terrible price for this city, for these catacombs, for this shattered peace.
Love breaks against love in that echoing Hall until the Gray Son returns his father's soul to rest.
The Gray Son's advisors beg him to seal the gates to the Hall, to lock the demon-tainted souls inside, but he refuses. The Gray Son knows that when his father locked his own fears into the catacombs, he became their slave.
Some say Gloria punished the Gray Son, for the sin of kinslaying, with longevity. Some say that he lives still, unaware of the deaths of his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Some say that one day he will wake upon his father's throne.
* * *
The Chosen Few gather,
wreathed in glory and skill,
and benediction,
to achieve the impossible.
All they ask
of the Great Many
is our silence.
When the Mother of Furrows throws open Her earthen arms, the dead march across Arvum in raucous celebration. Spines rattle and bone timbrels shake with merriment.
However, the First Mirrormask and his sister the Voice of Death take fright, believing in nothing so much as Arvum's fragility. For eleven days and thirteen nights, the siblings bargain with the spirit of Arx Mountain. They offer pledges of cinnabar, horseradish, and fealty until the spirit submits, allowing them to hew a city from the great mountain's corpse.
The siblings weave stories of timidity and obedience into the city's foundations, shaping a grand necropolis to entrap the joyous dead.
Death is not pleased; She curses the First Mirrormask with longevity.
He lives for centuries, watching his children die, then his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, until his heart is too empty even for darkness. And so he turns to a queen of the Abyssal Court, and offers his allegiance in exchange for the queen's pledge to cast his soul back onto the wheel.
During the time of the First Mirrormask's demonic service, he wages war, punishes dissent, and preaches the primacy of obedience. Monsters kneel to him; even the Shards of the Abyss bow down.
Witnessing these horrors, the First Mirrormask's subjects betray him. In secret his freeborn son (known as the Gray Son, because he refuses both black and white) prepares to slay his own father. Not with a trap, not in a battle or as a punishment: those are what led his father astray, and the Gray Son knows that a sword cannot heal a stab wound, not matter how cunningly-wrought.
When the Gray Son walks into his father's twisted Hall, he wields no weapon save love. The very same weapon that drove his father and the Voice to pay such a terrible price for this city, for these catacombs, for this shattered peace.
Love breaks against love in that echoing Hall until the Gray Son returns his father's soul to rest.
The Gray Son's advisors beg him to seal the gates to the Hall, to lock the demon-tainted souls inside, but he refuses. The Gray Son knows that when his father locked his own fears into the catacombs, he became their slave.
Some say Gloria punished the Gray Son, for the sin of kinslaying, with longevity. Some say that he lives still, unaware of the deaths of his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Some say that one day he will wake upon his father's throne.
* * *
The Chosen Few gather,
wreathed in glory and skill,
and benediction,
to achieve the impossible.
All they ask
of the Great Many
is our silence.
Written By Elloise
Nov. 30, 2019, 8:53 p.m.(4/17/1012 AR)
...excuse you, WIND, but I did not invite you to start a small tornado in the Leary house.
PS, Leary family, please avoid the small tornado in the lab.
PS, Leary family, please avoid the small tornado in the lab.
Written By Elloise
Nov. 30, 2019, 8:52 p.m.(4/17/1012 AR)
Log: I have been experimenting with wind again. It makes no sense, some of my results. I can't replicate certain things at all -- I wonder if other scientists have been so stymied!
Written By Delia
Nov. 30, 2019, 5:29 p.m.(4/17/1012 AR)
And I was not disappointed by Lady Greenmarch's secret-telling event. I was right about the quality of gifts - and the guests were second to none. I hope that everyone came away lighter for having shared a secret or two with Monique.
Written By Monique
Nov. 30, 2019, 3:09 p.m.(4/16/1012 AR)
I can say with all honesty and sincerity that every secret shared last night was impressive. We have some very brave souls in our city.
Written By Bianca
Nov. 30, 2019, 2 p.m.(4/16/1012 AR)
With the news of our brave men and women's triumphant return from the Saffron Chain, I have been thinking of the sea, and our Azure Mother. Mangata is an ever-present aspect of our lives -- and this is especially true now, as the vestiges of winter melt away and we begin to turn our prayers to the skies to grace our lands and budding crops with the rains of spring.
Mangata is life itself, but perhaps there is nothing that Mangata represents more in our hearts and minds than the sea. When we seek her blessing, we seek the mercies of her seas and the grace of her winds to carry our sailors safely and swiftly to their destination. That the wrath of the storm does not end their journey prematurely, and that they may find what they seek at the end of it. The sea is a tempestuous, dangerous environment. And exploration does not come without risk, nor does discovery; it's little wonder, then, that we might turn toward the benediction of the divine to see us safely through such risks, especially when it comes to what lies beyond our horizons.
We seek these blessings because of the danger, because of the uncertainty -- because, in many ways, the sea represents the great unknowns in our lives, existing beyond the boundaries of what is familiar, and what is comfortable. How many of us can say to a certainty that we know what lies beyond the mainland of Arvum? How many can say, further still, that they have seen with their own eyes what lies in the Chains? In the Wastes, or even beyond? I certainly can't. For me, for many, it is nothing but mystery; nothing but unknowns.
And when we think of the unknown, it is so terribly easy to conjure up images of dread. Of slavers lurking just beyond our borders, of great and terrible creatures slithering beneath the waves, of hostile and unforgiving lands... and far more horrifying things still. It is so terribly easy to fall to the fear of the unknown, that we so often forget the possibilities that come with it, too. The unknown is not just those dread images that skulk within our nightmares; it is the fantastic, too, that delight our dreams. That we might brave the dangers of the sea and be rewarded with wonders we never imagined possible on the opposing shore.
To me, Mangata represents the best possibilities of the sea and what lies beyond for those willing to brave it. She is our hopes that spur us to embrace the sea to begin with. There are horrors, yes, there always will be; but there are wonders too, yet to be uncovered. It's a hope for the unknown we should always try our best to keep in mind, and one I strive to, myself. I spent many nights in my youth imagining what amazing things lie beyond the sea. And it is my fervent wish I may one day see it for myself, with my own eyes.
Mangata is life itself, but perhaps there is nothing that Mangata represents more in our hearts and minds than the sea. When we seek her blessing, we seek the mercies of her seas and the grace of her winds to carry our sailors safely and swiftly to their destination. That the wrath of the storm does not end their journey prematurely, and that they may find what they seek at the end of it. The sea is a tempestuous, dangerous environment. And exploration does not come without risk, nor does discovery; it's little wonder, then, that we might turn toward the benediction of the divine to see us safely through such risks, especially when it comes to what lies beyond our horizons.
We seek these blessings because of the danger, because of the uncertainty -- because, in many ways, the sea represents the great unknowns in our lives, existing beyond the boundaries of what is familiar, and what is comfortable. How many of us can say to a certainty that we know what lies beyond the mainland of Arvum? How many can say, further still, that they have seen with their own eyes what lies in the Chains? In the Wastes, or even beyond? I certainly can't. For me, for many, it is nothing but mystery; nothing but unknowns.
And when we think of the unknown, it is so terribly easy to conjure up images of dread. Of slavers lurking just beyond our borders, of great and terrible creatures slithering beneath the waves, of hostile and unforgiving lands... and far more horrifying things still. It is so terribly easy to fall to the fear of the unknown, that we so often forget the possibilities that come with it, too. The unknown is not just those dread images that skulk within our nightmares; it is the fantastic, too, that delight our dreams. That we might brave the dangers of the sea and be rewarded with wonders we never imagined possible on the opposing shore.
To me, Mangata represents the best possibilities of the sea and what lies beyond for those willing to brave it. She is our hopes that spur us to embrace the sea to begin with. There are horrors, yes, there always will be; but there are wonders too, yet to be uncovered. It's a hope for the unknown we should always try our best to keep in mind, and one I strive to, myself. I spent many nights in my youth imagining what amazing things lie beyond the sea. And it is my fervent wish I may one day see it for myself, with my own eyes.
Written By Rysen
Nov. 30, 2019, 10:23 a.m.(4/16/1012 AR)
My House and the Bard's College recently hosted an opera in Stormwall, written by the supreme genius of our age, Prince Niklas Grayson, and performed by the greatest singers in Arvum: Gianna Whisper, Princess Sorrel Thrax, Princess Sabella Grayson, Lady Evonleigh Whitehawk, Duchess Vanora, and Lady Sanya of House Grimhall.
The voices of the performers were transporting, and I was happy to see many from Arx traveled to my homeland for the opera. It is an understatement to say I am disappointed I missed Gianna's final song, or the encore arias of Duchess Vanora and Lady Sanya, but I'm told they were unforgettable.
My thanks to my fellow bards, and to those who helped with the incident. Without your help, I would be facing Arn and Asger right now, both of whom would be muttering, "at the opera," before turning their backs on me in disappointment.
The voices of the performers were transporting, and I was happy to see many from Arx traveled to my homeland for the opera. It is an understatement to say I am disappointed I missed Gianna's final song, or the encore arias of Duchess Vanora and Lady Sanya, but I'm told they were unforgettable.
My thanks to my fellow bards, and to those who helped with the incident. Without your help, I would be facing Arn and Asger right now, both of whom would be muttering, "at the opera," before turning their backs on me in disappointment.
Written By Gaston
Nov. 30, 2019, 4:06 a.m.(4/15/1012 AR)
For the record, I am not a wolf spirit.
I am just a man...basically.
More or less.
Listen, there's some debate.
I am just a man...basically.
More or less.
Listen, there's some debate.
Written By Mabelle
Nov. 30, 2019, 3:49 a.m.(4/15/1012 AR)
As a child, whenever I saw Estelle, my tutor, she seemed like the oldest person in the world to me. She was roughly my age now when I was under her care and educating hand.
I was surprised to meet her upon my return to Artshall and realize she is not old, but my mother's age had she survived all that occured...
Estelle noted the changes in me, her notes upon my person and the ones left by the city. She disapproved some and praised others.
Can a city truly inspire such change?
I miss my mother.
I was surprised to meet her upon my return to Artshall and realize she is not old, but my mother's age had she survived all that occured...
Estelle noted the changes in me, her notes upon my person and the ones left by the city. She disapproved some and praised others.
Can a city truly inspire such change?
I miss my mother.
Written By Nurie
Nov. 30, 2019, 2:06 a.m.(4/15/1012 AR)
As much as I do love the snow, and wandering in its quiet, I do very much love the spring! Spring brings flowers, and butterflies, and outside dances under the stars or lanterns. It's the latter that I crave. And hearing the laughter and songs that come with it.
Written By Peri
Nov. 30, 2019, 1:05 a.m.(4/15/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Carita
I am grateful to the countess for all of the help she gives me.
Written By Sydney
Nov. 30, 2019, 12:46 a.m.(4/15/1012 AR)
Attended an event at Whisper House.
Learned a great many things, met a few people, and I even won a display case.
And best of all, people complimented my new gloves. It makes all the wheeling and dealing and running around and getting it designed so very worth it. To make it sound as though I did any of the work, when I mostly balked at the fancy materials and shelled over borrowed coin. Still.
I hope I do get to run in to some of those I met tonight in a context that isn't quite so crowded. Many seemed quite interesting, and I'd like to get a chance to share a drink with them somewhere without the thrum of noise and spectacle.
Learned a great many things, met a few people, and I even won a display case.
And best of all, people complimented my new gloves. It makes all the wheeling and dealing and running around and getting it designed so very worth it. To make it sound as though I did any of the work, when I mostly balked at the fancy materials and shelled over borrowed coin. Still.
I hope I do get to run in to some of those I met tonight in a context that isn't quite so crowded. Many seemed quite interesting, and I'd like to get a chance to share a drink with them somewhere without the thrum of noise and spectacle.
Written By Cyril
Nov. 29, 2019, 9:15 p.m.(4/15/1012 AR)
My mother used to say that sometimes all you need to face your deepest fear is a mirror.
Written By Emele
Nov. 29, 2019, 7:12 p.m.(4/15/1012 AR)
Well, Scholar, I've made it back to Arx. I'm a far better smith than I was when I set out on my travels, so that much at least I've accomplished; 'tis time to settle in and make my reputation. I believe I have the talent and the skill, but we shall see. The Crafters' Guild have helped me start setting a shop up so that I might achieve my goals, and in truth I'm enjoying the work. The building had been unused for some time, and making a home of it has been hard work, but the results are pleasant. The paintings I brought back with me are being hung, one by one, so people might see my past work, but there's still so much to do.
I shall stop by Whitehawk Manor tomorrow, I think. 'Tis only fair to tell my lord - or his people - that I've returned, since my message to my brother returned undelivered. I can stop off and get some more seedlings for the beds, while I'm at it. Am I too late to plant beans now, or is it a good time to start the tomatoes? I suspect the Whitehawks will know.
I shall stop by Whitehawk Manor tomorrow, I think. 'Tis only fair to tell my lord - or his people - that I've returned, since my message to my brother returned undelivered. I can stop off and get some more seedlings for the beds, while I'm at it. Am I too late to plant beans now, or is it a good time to start the tomatoes? I suspect the Whitehawks will know.
Written By Lenne
Nov. 29, 2019, 5:16 p.m.(4/15/1012 AR)
Last night was perhaps the most mortifying evening of my life.
My enthusiasm should perhaps be tempered with sense, in the future.
I really should compile a list of basic wisdom everyone should already know.
1. Not every conflict can be solved with idealistic drivel, especially in the realms of realpolitik.
2. Acting like a doomsayer shouting insanity in the town square, figuratively speaking, will not convince anyone.
3. Also, do not walk the spirit ways near the city, until you know what you're doing. You never know when the howling and snarling in the spirit world is actually a very pleasant and forgiving Marquis, and not a spirit or a wolf at all.
I really need to send father a note, telling him he was right about being utterly unprepared for the city.
...Once my feet stop hurting. I need to find a way to free my spirit that doesn't take bare feet in the forest.
My enthusiasm should perhaps be tempered with sense, in the future.
I really should compile a list of basic wisdom everyone should already know.
1. Not every conflict can be solved with idealistic drivel, especially in the realms of realpolitik.
2. Acting like a doomsayer shouting insanity in the town square, figuratively speaking, will not convince anyone.
3. Also, do not walk the spirit ways near the city, until you know what you're doing. You never know when the howling and snarling in the spirit world is actually a very pleasant and forgiving Marquis, and not a spirit or a wolf at all.
I really need to send father a note, telling him he was right about being utterly unprepared for the city.
...Once my feet stop hurting. I need to find a way to free my spirit that doesn't take bare feet in the forest.
Written By Strozza
Nov. 29, 2019, 5:08 p.m.(4/15/1012 AR)
The sea has no comparable. I cannot look out the window of a manner to see a thousand reflections of sun and star. Only brick, and stone, and the stink of civilization.
I assume they can only stand it because they know no better.
Spring has come. Soon I will stand on a field of rolling blue.
I assume they can only stand it because they know no better.
Spring has come. Soon I will stand on a field of rolling blue.
Written By Dio
Nov. 29, 2019, 4:03 p.m.(4/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Dianna
Congratulations, Lioness.
Don't let them tame you.
Don't let them tame you.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.