Written By Miranda
Aug. 14, 2019, 2 p.m.(8/24/1011 AR)
That Moment When...
... you think you've dealt with some seriously difficult customers only to find out that there is even more stubborn folk out there.
I'm not entirely sure why it has become necessary to insist on folks being kind to each other. Honey, not vinegar will get you what you want.
... I suppose there are some out there who might prefer the vinegar.
I am not one of them.
Just putting it out there for everyone to know.
I'm all about the honey.
... you think you've dealt with some seriously difficult customers only to find out that there is even more stubborn folk out there.
I'm not entirely sure why it has become necessary to insist on folks being kind to each other. Honey, not vinegar will get you what you want.
... I suppose there are some out there who might prefer the vinegar.
I am not one of them.
Just putting it out there for everyone to know.
I'm all about the honey.
Written By Miranda
Aug. 14, 2019, 1:58 p.m.(8/24/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Ras
You kept your word. Thank you.
We met. I didn't have to like him.
Honestly, I'm not sure what I think of him.
But you kept your word and for that I'm grateful.
Thank you.
We met. I didn't have to like him.
Honestly, I'm not sure what I think of him.
But you kept your word and for that I'm grateful.
Thank you.
Written By Sparte
Aug. 14, 2019, 1:16 p.m.(8/24/1011 AR)
I said this opinion at a recent gathering of The Salon, and I feel it bears repeating.
The gods are something we aspire towards, but they are not our destination.
The gods are something we aspire towards, but they are not our destination.
Written By Isabeau
Aug. 14, 2019, 12:49 p.m.(8/24/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Arn
Duke Arn Telmar was rarely approving or kind in his demeanor and words, but when I joined House Telmar, he welcomed me. For a brief moment, I was an orphan who had again found a father. I shall always remember him so.
Written By Rinel
Aug. 14, 2019, 12:39 p.m.(8/24/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Arn
Duke Arn did not know me. My sole interaction with him was a letter sent requesting that I might be allowed to forsake my oaths of fealty if I were to become Godsworn, and his (as I have since come to learn) characteristically terse assent.
Yet I grew up in the Telmarch, and I knew the Duke Telmarch. All of us knew the Duke Telmarch. Did we fear him? Yes, a bit. How could we not? But we knew that if the shav'arvani were to attack, or the North to invade, they would break against the red walls of Telmar Keep, and that they would shatter forever against the implacable force of Duke Arn Telmar. He was a force of nature to us, a grey and stormy mountain from whose slopes great storms roll down.
And he was a man of honour. He did not surrender the Sword of his House to the Radiant Bliss because it was convenient. He did not do so because he sought the approval of others. I do not even know if he thought it proper. But I know he thought it the only honourable path open to him, and so he took that path.
Consequences did not matter.
Opinions did not matter.
Survival itself did not matter.
Only what was honourable. Only what was right.
I did not know the man. I knew only the figure. And I say, knowing only the figure, that the Oathlands has lost more than a man. It has lost a being of certainty, unstoppable in his resolve. The Compact is the weaker for it.
Yet I grew up in the Telmarch, and I knew the Duke Telmarch. All of us knew the Duke Telmarch. Did we fear him? Yes, a bit. How could we not? But we knew that if the shav'arvani were to attack, or the North to invade, they would break against the red walls of Telmar Keep, and that they would shatter forever against the implacable force of Duke Arn Telmar. He was a force of nature to us, a grey and stormy mountain from whose slopes great storms roll down.
And he was a man of honour. He did not surrender the Sword of his House to the Radiant Bliss because it was convenient. He did not do so because he sought the approval of others. I do not even know if he thought it proper. But I know he thought it the only honourable path open to him, and so he took that path.
Consequences did not matter.
Opinions did not matter.
Survival itself did not matter.
Only what was honourable. Only what was right.
I did not know the man. I knew only the figure. And I say, knowing only the figure, that the Oathlands has lost more than a man. It has lost a being of certainty, unstoppable in his resolve. The Compact is the weaker for it.
Written By Thea
Aug. 14, 2019, 12:34 p.m.(8/24/1011 AR)
Upon hearing about the aversion of the brushwars, I can say I am very proud of my family. I know that while the success of Martino trying to push salad as an actual meal was still a terrible idea, his diplomatic skills are truly amazing. As was the group he was with.
Written By Thea
Aug. 14, 2019, 12:27 p.m.(8/24/1011 AR)
Reading through all these journal entries, I really lack words except--I am sorry for your losses.
Written By Brigida
Aug. 14, 2019, 5:08 a.m.(8/23/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Arn
I will never forget the 'Battle' of High Hill Crossing.
The death of Prince Caius Valardin there was sudden and bloody and still shakes me to remember. The same with the deaths of the Valardin knights, Blackram pikemen and Telmar infantry who all fell there.
Seeing Duke Arn die before me was one of the most heartbreaking things I have ever seen. Stupidly stubborn until the end. I will miss him as he is someone I have known and known of for many many years now, a constant in my life. He was a grumpy old bastard. A stubborn sod who should have known better.
It was not a battle, not even close. I have seen battles before. This was not one.
It was a massacre and what makes it worse is that I should have prevented it.
I'm so sorry.
The death of Prince Caius Valardin there was sudden and bloody and still shakes me to remember. The same with the deaths of the Valardin knights, Blackram pikemen and Telmar infantry who all fell there.
Seeing Duke Arn die before me was one of the most heartbreaking things I have ever seen. Stupidly stubborn until the end. I will miss him as he is someone I have known and known of for many many years now, a constant in my life. He was a grumpy old bastard. A stubborn sod who should have known better.
It was not a battle, not even close. I have seen battles before. This was not one.
It was a massacre and what makes it worse is that I should have prevented it.
I'm so sorry.
Written By Shard
Aug. 14, 2019, 3:35 a.m.(8/23/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Tikva
These days, I hear the word wielded as a weapon or an accusation unless it's a sermon about Gild; and sometimes, even then. But the Compact does not own the gods, and it does not own civilization or the concept of being civilized, and it's good to be reminded, or to remind myself, that this is the case from time to time.
My tribe was not big enough to be called a civilization, I'm fairly sure. We didn't build houses, let alone villages or cities. We had to trade for any metal that we had. At the risk of exciting Elloise, we moved around nature, and with nature, rarely against it--but that was our way. Our traditions. That was how we wanted to live, and how it seemed best to live, for us. It let us move when danger got too near. It let us live in harsh, wild, frozen places far, far, far away from any place anyone here might call civilization, where the horizon was only ever broken by trees and mountains, not walls and towers. We could follow the herds wherever they went, unless they journeyed too far to the south and too close to danger.
Once, when I was still a child, I was away from camp helping the woman who raised me gather plants for her medicines and ceremonies when we found a half-frozen body in the brush. We pulled him free to a partially open place, and we built a little pyre among the rocks out of tree branches and twigs. He had no markings, no tattoos, no sigils, and no writings to tell us who he might have been, or where he might have come from, so there was nothing to say over his body as it burned away. I asked her, the woman who raised me, why we had spent valuable time doing that for someone who might have been an enemy, a member of the Compact, a member of a hostile tribe, or at the very least someone who was not one of ours. She told me that we all have to meet death one day, and sometimes it's nice if someone helps you to do it properly. "And besides," she said. "We're not /savages/."
My tribe was not big enough to be called a civilization, I'm fairly sure. We didn't build houses, let alone villages or cities. We had to trade for any metal that we had. At the risk of exciting Elloise, we moved around nature, and with nature, rarely against it--but that was our way. Our traditions. That was how we wanted to live, and how it seemed best to live, for us. It let us move when danger got too near. It let us live in harsh, wild, frozen places far, far, far away from any place anyone here might call civilization, where the horizon was only ever broken by trees and mountains, not walls and towers. We could follow the herds wherever they went, unless they journeyed too far to the south and too close to danger.
Once, when I was still a child, I was away from camp helping the woman who raised me gather plants for her medicines and ceremonies when we found a half-frozen body in the brush. We pulled him free to a partially open place, and we built a little pyre among the rocks out of tree branches and twigs. He had no markings, no tattoos, no sigils, and no writings to tell us who he might have been, or where he might have come from, so there was nothing to say over his body as it burned away. I asked her, the woman who raised me, why we had spent valuable time doing that for someone who might have been an enemy, a member of the Compact, a member of a hostile tribe, or at the very least someone who was not one of ours. She told me that we all have to meet death one day, and sometimes it's nice if someone helps you to do it properly. "And besides," she said. "We're not /savages/."
Written By Modi
Aug. 14, 2019, 1:14 a.m.(8/23/1011 AR)
Goodness gracious. Nine! Nine offers for patronage from peerage across the city! Northeners, Lycene, Oathlanders, Crownlanders, even a Lady from the Mourning Isles. I am overwhelmed with the prospect of speaking to so many of the higher society. Excited! Nervous! Terrified! Determined! I've not had this much energy coursing through me for years!
Calm now Modi, calm. Opportunity is like an open door. Unsure of what is on the other side, no reason to rush through. Unless you are being chased. Luckily, I am not being chased. The path can be steadily observed.
Other news. By the gracious generosity of Radiant Bliss, I've relocated to the Whisper House proper. It is here that I will be able to better hone my studies on Compact etiquette and diplomacy. As well as a place where I might feel safe from the strife and violence leveled against Prodigals these past months. It has been... difficult to walk the streets. I feel eyes upon me. Glares or looks of pity. I am unsure who's gaze will turn to action. I hope none, but I cannot be certain.
In the future, I hope to repay Radiant Bliss' kindness in full for returning peace to me. In the meantime, it is my responsibility to mingle and understand. Learn. Make an impression.
Small steps, Modi. Small steps.
Calm now Modi, calm. Opportunity is like an open door. Unsure of what is on the other side, no reason to rush through. Unless you are being chased. Luckily, I am not being chased. The path can be steadily observed.
Other news. By the gracious generosity of Radiant Bliss, I've relocated to the Whisper House proper. It is here that I will be able to better hone my studies on Compact etiquette and diplomacy. As well as a place where I might feel safe from the strife and violence leveled against Prodigals these past months. It has been... difficult to walk the streets. I feel eyes upon me. Glares or looks of pity. I am unsure who's gaze will turn to action. I hope none, but I cannot be certain.
In the future, I hope to repay Radiant Bliss' kindness in full for returning peace to me. In the meantime, it is my responsibility to mingle and understand. Learn. Make an impression.
Small steps, Modi. Small steps.
Written By Esoka
Aug. 14, 2019, 12:26 a.m.(8/23/1011 AR)
I think I knew what a civilized life was, when my grandfather's hand ruled the tribes of the Greenwood. The manners I learned as the blood of a chieftain were not Compact manners, but the standards were harsh in their own ways. I still feel the heaviness of such expectations upon me even now, though those that held me to them are long gone.
And I saw that civilization shattered when unworthy men, whose souls were given to darker things, rose up to take his place after his death.
I have served under rulers of worth within the Compact. I believe I do now, as well. And I hold the virtues of Gild as dear as ever I was raised to. The particular manners are different, the expectations as heavy in their own ways but not so different, I strive to uphold them so well as I can have.
And I saw that civilization shattered when unworthy men, whose souls were given to darker things, rose up to take his place after his death.
I have served under rulers of worth within the Compact. I believe I do now, as well. And I hold the virtues of Gild as dear as ever I was raised to. The particular manners are different, the expectations as heavy in their own ways but not so different, I strive to uphold them so well as I can have.
Written By Willow
Aug. 13, 2019, 9:19 p.m.(8/23/1011 AR)
**an incredibly detailed charcoal sketch of a dragonfly which on a longer glance is actually a tiny, tiny dragon, perching at the base of a dahlia blossom, scorching away grass next to a tiny woman dressed in robes synonymous with the robes of a Mercy laid out as if sleeping in profile beside it**
Dreams may blur fiction and truth to mark visions which visit the viewer with various symbols and signs unknown to the body in this life. Visit your last homeland, and see the source. Souls tied to creeping lovestories dripped from the subconscious to paint some higher love in another life. The song of the strings soothes my soul, the sweet sorrow as they ripple with sound curling like fingers at the consciousness until the wide lane of history is revealed. Psychedelic, Psychedelic, the Sculptor lives in a haze.
**another detailed charcoal sketch, this one depicting a man and woman's shadowed silhouettes on a beach, he with a violin in hand**
Dark dreams that spin such sights make winter's cool embrace welcome as the heat grasps maliciously, hungry tendrils sparing no inch of flesh. Like a fever, bone-deep, there is an ache. Struggle, struggle, like a fly in the Spinner's Web. The Sleeper's lost in a daze.
Dreams may blur fiction and truth to mark visions which visit the viewer with various symbols and signs unknown to the body in this life. Visit your last homeland, and see the source. Souls tied to creeping lovestories dripped from the subconscious to paint some higher love in another life. The song of the strings soothes my soul, the sweet sorrow as they ripple with sound curling like fingers at the consciousness until the wide lane of history is revealed. Psychedelic, Psychedelic, the Sculptor lives in a haze.
**another detailed charcoal sketch, this one depicting a man and woman's shadowed silhouettes on a beach, he with a violin in hand**
Dark dreams that spin such sights make winter's cool embrace welcome as the heat grasps maliciously, hungry tendrils sparing no inch of flesh. Like a fever, bone-deep, there is an ache. Struggle, struggle, like a fly in the Spinner's Web. The Sleeper's lost in a daze.
Written By Elgana
Aug. 13, 2019, 7:48 p.m.(8/22/1011 AR)
I am no stranger to strange dreams, but this one was so vivid — Frost and thorns; Duke Arn and the Oathlands.
So many questions that seek answers.
So many questions that seek answers.
Written By Lysander
Aug. 13, 2019, 6:37 p.m.(8/22/1011 AR)
What are these spirits that the Northerner is so fixated by? In my many wandering thoughts, I now wonder if there might be an easier way to learn about such things. The curious mind wonders how the other lives.
Written By Lysander
Aug. 13, 2019, 6:34 p.m.(8/22/1011 AR)
I find myself wondering much these days of the true limits of medicine. I wonder often if there are many who do try to push the limitations on what we have so far known.
Written By Perronne
Aug. 13, 2019, 3:15 p.m.(8/22/1011 AR)
While I've been gone, my various concerns have continued to mature. Which is great! Just absolutely great! I'm getting all sorts of interesting goods coming through my trade routes, my trading houses are humming along (with occasional hiccups, which is just the price of doing business), and so far, nowhere I've got a major interest has burned down. That's a very good thing and I pray that it continues!
But, it does mean that I have a surplus of capital at the moment. And money sitting in a bank vault somewhere is not money that is being useful; we like money to be useful!
So, I think I'm going to be looking for investment opportunities. Young businesspeople, craftspeople, those who have just arrived to Arx, or those who have been here for a while and have just gotten an idea for something they want to do! Assuming anyone reads this white journal while I'm still alive and around, if you should happen to be common, with a GREAT IDEA for something interesting and potentially profitable, that you just haven't been able to fund the starting costs for, please send me a letter! I'd be delighted to meet with you to discuss your plan, and the idea, and see if it's something I'd be willing to fund, and to what extent!
I think, in return, I'll ask for a return on the initial investment over time, or in-kind considerations, with a small bit of interest. Nothing onerous, but enough to make it clear that this is an investment and a relationship, not just giving people things! Not that there's anything wrong with giving people things, but that's not investment!
But, it does mean that I have a surplus of capital at the moment. And money sitting in a bank vault somewhere is not money that is being useful; we like money to be useful!
So, I think I'm going to be looking for investment opportunities. Young businesspeople, craftspeople, those who have just arrived to Arx, or those who have been here for a while and have just gotten an idea for something they want to do! Assuming anyone reads this white journal while I'm still alive and around, if you should happen to be common, with a GREAT IDEA for something interesting and potentially profitable, that you just haven't been able to fund the starting costs for, please send me a letter! I'd be delighted to meet with you to discuss your plan, and the idea, and see if it's something I'd be willing to fund, and to what extent!
I think, in return, I'll ask for a return on the initial investment over time, or in-kind considerations, with a small bit of interest. Nothing onerous, but enough to make it clear that this is an investment and a relationship, not just giving people things! Not that there's anything wrong with giving people things, but that's not investment!
Written By Victus
Aug. 13, 2019, 1:35 p.m.(8/22/1011 AR)
A dream came to me in the night. One of the Oathlands. Frost. Thorns. Cavalry charging and a voice like Ice...
What did you do, Duke Arn? What did you do to House Thornweave?
What did you do, Duke Arn? What did you do to House Thornweave?
Written By Monique
Aug. 13, 2019, 12:20 p.m.(8/22/1011 AR)
The cut off date for submissions to the Gilded Page's Literary Competition fast approaches, only five more days! And then I shall be able to release the exceptional volumes written for public consumption and voting. That, I think, is the part I am looking forward to the most.
And I managed to secure a piece of jade for the costume contest book prize. This will be the most beautifully decorated book ever made.
Now, if I could just stop having frosty visions of Arn and the destruction of the Oathlands...
And I managed to secure a piece of jade for the costume contest book prize. This will be the most beautifully decorated book ever made.
Now, if I could just stop having frosty visions of Arn and the destruction of the Oathlands...
Written By Thesarin
Aug. 13, 2019, 11:51 a.m.(8/22/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Tikva
Folk told me us in the woods wasn't civilized, and folk in the towns was.
So civilization seemed to mean every way folk without enough to do worked out how to make easy things hard.
But if we in Greenwood and Greenblood were civilised, then now I'm only more confused.
So civilization seemed to mean every way folk without enough to do worked out how to make easy things hard.
But if we in Greenwood and Greenblood were civilised, then now I'm only more confused.
Written By Mabelle
Aug. 13, 2019, 5:19 a.m.(8/21/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Arn
My only memory of Duke Arn is when he scolded me for being too cheerful.
He was right.
I will miss him.
He was right.
I will miss him.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.