Written By Marian
Sept. 4, 2019, 10:21 p.m.(10/11/1011 AR)
My daughter, Nia, has taken to whispering messages to spiders in her free time. When I asked her why, she explained that the Queen of Endings favors spiders and daddy is with her so she tells the spiders about her day so he can find out what she's been up to. It gave me a bit of pause to sit there and think about spiders and their connection to the Queen of Endings.
There's a part of me that hopes it's true. It's funny how our children bring new perspectives.
There's a part of me that hopes it's true. It's funny how our children bring new perspectives.
Written By Elisha
Sept. 4, 2019, 10:21 p.m.(10/11/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Sparte
A breeze comes spilling through
the alley mouth, combed
by the crows who watch
with impersonal inquisitiveness.
The smoke rises and flattens over our crates, gray
upon gray upon gray, spreading into
a path that opens inward,
revealing all those necessary places
that cannot exist.
Do you remember the boy
who broke his neck falling from that rooftop
right over there,
while playing games to impress
me, the first girl he ever loved?
If I knew of a reason to leave,
I might. The touch of his trembling fingertips,
against my wet cheek.
the alley mouth, combed
by the crows who watch
with impersonal inquisitiveness.
The smoke rises and flattens over our crates, gray
upon gray upon gray, spreading into
a path that opens inward,
revealing all those necessary places
that cannot exist.
Do you remember the boy
who broke his neck falling from that rooftop
right over there,
while playing games to impress
me, the first girl he ever loved?
If I knew of a reason to leave,
I might. The touch of his trembling fingertips,
against my wet cheek.
Written By Miranda
Sept. 4, 2019, 10:15 p.m.(10/11/1011 AR)
Sometimes, it is hard to see the truth through the weeds growing over it.
Ugh.
Also, I'm bored. This stupid injury is keeping me immobile.
I might have to start pranking people via others soon.
Ugh.
Also, I'm bored. This stupid injury is keeping me immobile.
I might have to start pranking people via others soon.
Written By Acantha
Sept. 4, 2019, 9:06 p.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
I know it's only early Autumn, but I'm starting to make plans for the first Snow Ball that House Clearlake will be holding. I am excited to plan and I am excited to see the prizes for the raffles be made. It will be fantastic.
Written By Victus
Sept. 4, 2019, 8:33 p.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
It's getting worse of late. Sometimes I lay down my head and I just hear them pounding. When I dream they're always around. Drums. War. Steel scraps against steel and the sparks travel down the edge of the blade. Another uses an axe, hooks it into a shield and pulls it away. He hacks into their neck, blood flows from the open wound. An Eurusi spear marks the corpse of a woman. I know her. It makes me angry to see it.
War. Battle. War. Battle. Smell of ash and iron. Lightning crashes. There's blood on the sand. There's blood in the water.
I can't sleep of late without having another one of those dreams. If it's not in the thick of it with sword, axe, or shield in hand, it's watching from the sidelines as chaos unfolds. I want to reach out and DO something about it. But I just wake up in bed again. Where peace reigns while my blood just boils away.
I'd thought spending time home in Maelstrom would quell it, but I've returned to Arx much the same. Hmph.
I need to take my ship somewhere. I need to find an enemy. Put all of this energy and restlessness to good use on something that needs it.
War. Battle. War. Battle. Smell of ash and iron. Lightning crashes. There's blood on the sand. There's blood in the water.
I can't sleep of late without having another one of those dreams. If it's not in the thick of it with sword, axe, or shield in hand, it's watching from the sidelines as chaos unfolds. I want to reach out and DO something about it. But I just wake up in bed again. Where peace reigns while my blood just boils away.
I'd thought spending time home in Maelstrom would quell it, but I've returned to Arx much the same. Hmph.
I need to take my ship somewhere. I need to find an enemy. Put all of this energy and restlessness to good use on something that needs it.
Written By Cambria
Sept. 4, 2019, 8:06 p.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
Exclusion, especially systematic exclusion, is felt as a personal rejection and that hurts even the toughest person.
Written By Elisha
Sept. 4, 2019, 1:56 p.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Rhea
We reproach Marach the Heretical because each of his tales illuminates the empire of secrets without showing us the rolling dreams that stretch between one secret and another: a landscape of trout ponds, fields of ripening rye, oak forests beloved of truffle pigs, farmyards where children throw sticks for panting dogs.
The heretic answers us with a story. In the streets of my illustrious city, he says, I met once a goatherd driving a tinkling flock along the walls.
"Stranger blessed by Elysium," the goatherd called to me, leaning on her staff, "can you tell me the name of the city in which we are?"
"May the pantheon accompany you!" I cried. "How can you fail to recognize the illustrious city of Arx, home to the Creature who feeds upon certainty and grows ever greater?"
"Bear with me," the woman answered. "I am a merely a wandering god, exiled from my own land by holy seers who speak in my name. Sometimes my goats and I have to pass through the secret cities, but we are unable to distinguish them. Ask me the names of the grazing lands: I know them all, the Meadow Where Children Play, the Green Slope of Love Renewed, the Shadowed Grass In Which Sisters Braid Each Other's Hair. Cities have no name for me: they are places without leaves, separating one kindness from another, where my goats are frightened at street corners and scatter."
"I am the opposite of you," I said. "I recognize only secrets and cannot distinguish what lies between them. In the dreaming places, each child's laugh and lover's caress appears, to my eyes, identical to every other laugh and kiss."
"And what of dreams?"
"I have no need of the soft sentiments that stretch between hard truths," I said, drawing my robes of office closer, "between the rituals of the Art and the revelations of the past. I collect secrets and facts in the service of humanity, to protect us against the enemy."
"You feed upon them," the goatherd said, "and grow ever greater."
* * *
Marach's 63rd heresy is this: 'A faith that bars the doors to the houses of the gods is not a true faith.'
His 71st: 'A teacher who declares one teaching true and another false is false; this I declare.'
His 108th: 'Love each other, that's all, you spavined numb-gizzards! Hold your friend when he weeps, dance when she sings! This isn't hard. You can't command a dream, you can't *win* a dream. Stop trying! Titles mean nothing in dreams: riches and strength and knowledge turn into daisies stretching toward the sun. We can't seize the reins of the Dream like a cruel rider on a beaten nag. Let go, let go, let go. Kindness requires more courage than cruelty, love requires more courage than power. The Dream carries us like twigs in a current, heedless of our feeble attempts to seize the water in our fists and shape the river. Just float, you flax-embossed turdlings! Float!'
The heretic answers us with a story. In the streets of my illustrious city, he says, I met once a goatherd driving a tinkling flock along the walls.
"Stranger blessed by Elysium," the goatherd called to me, leaning on her staff, "can you tell me the name of the city in which we are?"
"May the pantheon accompany you!" I cried. "How can you fail to recognize the illustrious city of Arx, home to the Creature who feeds upon certainty and grows ever greater?"
"Bear with me," the woman answered. "I am a merely a wandering god, exiled from my own land by holy seers who speak in my name. Sometimes my goats and I have to pass through the secret cities, but we are unable to distinguish them. Ask me the names of the grazing lands: I know them all, the Meadow Where Children Play, the Green Slope of Love Renewed, the Shadowed Grass In Which Sisters Braid Each Other's Hair. Cities have no name for me: they are places without leaves, separating one kindness from another, where my goats are frightened at street corners and scatter."
"I am the opposite of you," I said. "I recognize only secrets and cannot distinguish what lies between them. In the dreaming places, each child's laugh and lover's caress appears, to my eyes, identical to every other laugh and kiss."
"And what of dreams?"
"I have no need of the soft sentiments that stretch between hard truths," I said, drawing my robes of office closer, "between the rituals of the Art and the revelations of the past. I collect secrets and facts in the service of humanity, to protect us against the enemy."
"You feed upon them," the goatherd said, "and grow ever greater."
* * *
Marach's 63rd heresy is this: 'A faith that bars the doors to the houses of the gods is not a true faith.'
His 71st: 'A teacher who declares one teaching true and another false is false; this I declare.'
His 108th: 'Love each other, that's all, you spavined numb-gizzards! Hold your friend when he weeps, dance when she sings! This isn't hard. You can't command a dream, you can't *win* a dream. Stop trying! Titles mean nothing in dreams: riches and strength and knowledge turn into daisies stretching toward the sun. We can't seize the reins of the Dream like a cruel rider on a beaten nag. Let go, let go, let go. Kindness requires more courage than cruelty, love requires more courage than power. The Dream carries us like twigs in a current, heedless of our feeble attempts to seize the water in our fists and shape the river. Just float, you flax-embossed turdlings! Float!'
Written By Peri
Sept. 4, 2019, 12:49 p.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Preston
I assert that an excommunicated person should still be able to buy food at a market. And despite their untrustworthiness, they must be able to work else how shall they eat? How shall their children or family eat?
Written By Sabella
Sept. 4, 2019, 11:49 a.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
The Storybook Soiree was simply exquisite and while I was a little sad to not win the contest considering the time and effort put into my costume (the dress had sheep on it!), I have to say that Mistress Josephine's costume was astounding and it was no surprise when she took home the prize. I was quite happy that Sister Juniper's story won, I found it simply entrancing when I read it the first time and so inspiring that I just had to put together the Weaver costume! I even liked so many of the pieces I think I'll keep them, especially that phases of the moon circlet. But Sister Juniper spun up such lovely imagery that I was honored to attempt to bring her creation to life and was so happy to see that she was there to witness it. Unfortunately I was not able to speak with her before she left, otherwise I would have asked her what the story was based on and who that dark suitor of the Weaver was!
And if you have not read her novel, I do urge you to go to the Gilded Page and take a look. I may just buy a copy so that the children can have it to read when they're older I loved it so much!
And if you have not read her novel, I do urge you to go to the Gilded Page and take a look. I may just buy a copy so that the children can have it to read when they're older I loved it so much!
Written By Rafael
Sept. 4, 2019, 11:31 a.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
Somebody must meowt of their mind! I know plenty of lions deeply invested in the prosperity of a house cat.
Written By Sparte
Sept. 4, 2019, 10:47 a.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Jyri
Lord Jyri rose up from what the Compact would consider nothing. A prodigal who bent the knee and has since dedicated himself to good works, but not on his own behalf.
He serves the Compact through the Iron Guard, and I have witnessed him in battle myself. He displayed valor in the face of death that few are capable of, winning the day when many would have faltered and failed.
He further gives of himself and his good fortune to help others in need, dedicating time, energy, and finances towards endeavors to bring up those who would follow in his footsteps. Prodigals seeking to better themselves and the Compact in the process.
May his contributions never be doubted, and may all those who think to insult him on the basis of his origins take the time to inspect their own contributions first.
He serves the Compact through the Iron Guard, and I have witnessed him in battle myself. He displayed valor in the face of death that few are capable of, winning the day when many would have faltered and failed.
He further gives of himself and his good fortune to help others in need, dedicating time, energy, and finances towards endeavors to bring up those who would follow in his footsteps. Prodigals seeking to better themselves and the Compact in the process.
May his contributions never be doubted, and may all those who think to insult him on the basis of his origins take the time to inspect their own contributions first.
Written By Sparte
Sept. 4, 2019, 10:43 a.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Reese
There are many who have changed in the time I've known them in Arx. People who have grown or wilted.
Princess Reese has been through many trials that I cannot imagine were deserved, and the recognition I believe she deserves for her accomplishments have not always been offered. Yet in the time I have known her she has managed to weather this and continue to grow. A bold pink flower that refuses to wilt on any battlefield.
I am honored to know her and look forward to seeing her story continue. May it be an inspiration to others who will boldly stand and define themselves.
Princess Reese has been through many trials that I cannot imagine were deserved, and the recognition I believe she deserves for her accomplishments have not always been offered. Yet in the time I have known her she has managed to weather this and continue to grow. A bold pink flower that refuses to wilt on any battlefield.
I am honored to know her and look forward to seeing her story continue. May it be an inspiration to others who will boldly stand and define themselves.
Written By Lucita
Sept. 4, 2019, 10:13 a.m.(10/10/1011 AR)
Such interesting histories of weapons and houses. Makes me want to delve into our own Saik history more deeply.
Written By Lisebet
Sept. 4, 2019, 8:20 a.m.(10/9/1011 AR)
It is good to start catching up with friends again, and to enjoy the end of summer and the start of autumn. This is one of my favourite times of year.
That and my birthday.
That and my birthday.
Written By Mabelle
Sept. 4, 2019, 5:58 a.m.(10/9/1011 AR)
Alright. I officially get it now.
Making armor is expensive.
Making armor is expensive.
Written By Delilah
Sept. 3, 2019, 10:24 p.m.(10/9/1011 AR)
What is failure?
Failure is not losing the battle. It is not the surrender to greater forces. Nor can it be claimed of those who pick their weapons up from the dirt, regather their cracked composure, and look to the horizon through blurry eyes as they take the first arduous steps forward again on a journey leading onward to the unknown.
That, by definition, is success: to face the trials ahead of them rather than hide or be laid low by a setback.
Fall down five times, get up six.
Failure is not losing the battle. It is not the surrender to greater forces. Nor can it be claimed of those who pick their weapons up from the dirt, regather their cracked composure, and look to the horizon through blurry eyes as they take the first arduous steps forward again on a journey leading onward to the unknown.
That, by definition, is success: to face the trials ahead of them rather than hide or be laid low by a setback.
Fall down five times, get up six.
Written By Delilah
Sept. 3, 2019, 10:11 p.m.(10/9/1011 AR)
We burn down the past to blaze a fresh way for the future.
How often are we reducing mistakes to ashes rather than learning from the past? Are the ashes the fetters that once claimed us?
How often are we reducing mistakes to ashes rather than learning from the past? Are the ashes the fetters that once claimed us?
Written By Norwood
Sept. 3, 2019, 9:46 p.m.(10/9/1011 AR)
Heresy is heresy.
Written By Dustin
Sept. 3, 2019, 8:19 p.m.(10/8/1011 AR)
I heard this song that like a worm crawls into my brain. It does not translate well to the written word but I will try my best and hope to persevere its haunting allure;
"Though men stare in wonder at their matchless might, and all their foes will tremble and all be put to flight, but when the bloodlust fades and they turn to mourn, all know the curse it is to be one of the furyborn."
"Though men stare in wonder at their matchless might, and all their foes will tremble and all be put to flight, but when the bloodlust fades and they turn to mourn, all know the curse it is to be one of the furyborn."
Written By Tikva
Sept. 3, 2019, 5:12 p.m.(10/8/1011 AR)
The Valardins really did throw a _tremendous_ party commemorating the harvest. The trip to Sanctum was terribly long for the children but they loved getting to see their father running around lost in a maze, and possibly (I'm not sure) running over Duke Cristoph's children in the same maze.
It was also the LARGEST PUMPKIN I have ever seen.
And possibly the best pie I have ever eaten? It was pretty up there, as far as pie goes.
It was also the LARGEST PUMPKIN I have ever seen.
And possibly the best pie I have ever eaten? It was pretty up there, as far as pie goes.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.