Written By Elloise
Aug. 9, 2019, 2:06 p.m.(8/14/1011 AR)
Log:
I have a new interest! I suppose it is more sociological than straight, hard science, but after careful observation of several of the so called "Prodigal" men and women of Arx and summations based therein on the shavs from which they come, I have some reflections.
It seems to me that these unmannered savages are, in fact, living in a closer state of nature. And to me, these people are far superior to the duplicitous nature of the men and women of high culture in Arx. They are honest, simple, in touch with their truths, forthright, and without the problem of 'civilization'.
We are all born with curiosity, with a barefaced honest wonder of the world. I have been lucky: House Leary encourages the cultivation of knowledge and so, I have never lost it. But that makes me an oddity. Look at our nobility here: how many utensils do we even need to eat a pear? WHY do we need utensils to eat a pear?
I am being slightly hyperbolic, but my thesis is the same: we have over "cultured" ourselves. We embrace fakery and deceit in our courts whereas our free brothers and sisters bear none.
Our natural selves need no taming; civilization has gone too far and our manners are the problem. Our manners are nothing but false virtue, designed to disguise selfish centered vanity. We should throw off the bonds of etiquette and return to our more base frankness.
Are you a prodigal here, now? Might I observe you? interview you? I welcome messages on this topic, for I'm sure many have a lot to say.
I have a new interest! I suppose it is more sociological than straight, hard science, but after careful observation of several of the so called "Prodigal" men and women of Arx and summations based therein on the shavs from which they come, I have some reflections.
It seems to me that these unmannered savages are, in fact, living in a closer state of nature. And to me, these people are far superior to the duplicitous nature of the men and women of high culture in Arx. They are honest, simple, in touch with their truths, forthright, and without the problem of 'civilization'.
We are all born with curiosity, with a barefaced honest wonder of the world. I have been lucky: House Leary encourages the cultivation of knowledge and so, I have never lost it. But that makes me an oddity. Look at our nobility here: how many utensils do we even need to eat a pear? WHY do we need utensils to eat a pear?
I am being slightly hyperbolic, but my thesis is the same: we have over "cultured" ourselves. We embrace fakery and deceit in our courts whereas our free brothers and sisters bear none.
Our natural selves need no taming; civilization has gone too far and our manners are the problem. Our manners are nothing but false virtue, designed to disguise selfish centered vanity. We should throw off the bonds of etiquette and return to our more base frankness.
Are you a prodigal here, now? Might I observe you? interview you? I welcome messages on this topic, for I'm sure many have a lot to say.
Written By Tescelina
Aug. 9, 2019, 1:34 p.m.(8/14/1011 AR)
A rebuttal to the article by Scholar Aboloft’s "In defense of the sundial"
By Lady Tescelina Wyrmguard
I do not consider myself an argumentative person. It is not my nature or the intention of this work to stifle the research done by my peer and fellow astronomer Aboloft. However, in his research on the effectiveness and permanency of the sundial I have become aware of certain comments made in regard to my own research, which I believe, warrants a response. If you do not wish your research challenged, do not challenge others' research.
For starters it is quite a misleading assessment that, ‘the elaborate construction of clockwork makes it ineffective as a means of time measurement’ for it immediately places an impetuous on the easy or the short-cut taking which, alas, plagues much scholarly work. We are not in the business of economics and it should not have any substantive recourse on what is clearly the most precise and effective means of that vaunted art of time keeping.
Furthermore the sundial is designed to read time via the sun, as is known, this places a broad limit of two minutes on accurate time for the shadow of the gnomon cast by the sun is /not/ sharp. Looking from earth the sun is a half degree across making shadows, if nothing else, unreliably blurred at their edges. The actual construction of a sundial, certainly, can be very accurate. The mathematics of its design has been with us since the ancient age. Yet what is old does not always denote what is best, for we are a species ever in pursuit of self-improvement.
Is not the nature of the gods themselves the aspirations for which we strive? Knowing that perfection is out of reach, do we cease its pursuit? I think not.
The installation of a sundial is often the weaker part of the process. It must be aligned true to the sun. Our current means of surveying is limited and even in some future age it may never be wholly precise. We must reckon with the fact that the world itself must be an accurate clock for a sundial to be one and, I must say, I do not believe this to be fact. Those very two minutes of which I spoke earlier show exactly that our own understanding of the observable movements of shadows cannot be relied upon for the precise measurement of time. Two minutes, reader, can be the difference between everything.
We will see the era of the clock, for the knowledge of it has been gifted to us, and each day that we theorize and postulated on that tower which once stood, we wonder and we dream and as a people we process, like the turning of the arms upon that self-same object of precision, that perfect construct of the human perception of motion, we all move in forward motion.
In the next twenty pages I have laid out the calculations showing that the mechanical precision of time is the direction we should be moving and that such, excuse this derogatory term, primitive objects like the sundial must be left behind. I invite my fellow scholars to take note and work with me to see the new dawn of human knowledge.
[There’s a lot of math that follows. It may cause eyes to cross if stared at for too long. So much vindictive math.]
By Lady Tescelina Wyrmguard
I do not consider myself an argumentative person. It is not my nature or the intention of this work to stifle the research done by my peer and fellow astronomer Aboloft. However, in his research on the effectiveness and permanency of the sundial I have become aware of certain comments made in regard to my own research, which I believe, warrants a response. If you do not wish your research challenged, do not challenge others' research.
For starters it is quite a misleading assessment that, ‘the elaborate construction of clockwork makes it ineffective as a means of time measurement’ for it immediately places an impetuous on the easy or the short-cut taking which, alas, plagues much scholarly work. We are not in the business of economics and it should not have any substantive recourse on what is clearly the most precise and effective means of that vaunted art of time keeping.
Furthermore the sundial is designed to read time via the sun, as is known, this places a broad limit of two minutes on accurate time for the shadow of the gnomon cast by the sun is /not/ sharp. Looking from earth the sun is a half degree across making shadows, if nothing else, unreliably blurred at their edges. The actual construction of a sundial, certainly, can be very accurate. The mathematics of its design has been with us since the ancient age. Yet what is old does not always denote what is best, for we are a species ever in pursuit of self-improvement.
Is not the nature of the gods themselves the aspirations for which we strive? Knowing that perfection is out of reach, do we cease its pursuit? I think not.
The installation of a sundial is often the weaker part of the process. It must be aligned true to the sun. Our current means of surveying is limited and even in some future age it may never be wholly precise. We must reckon with the fact that the world itself must be an accurate clock for a sundial to be one and, I must say, I do not believe this to be fact. Those very two minutes of which I spoke earlier show exactly that our own understanding of the observable movements of shadows cannot be relied upon for the precise measurement of time. Two minutes, reader, can be the difference between everything.
We will see the era of the clock, for the knowledge of it has been gifted to us, and each day that we theorize and postulated on that tower which once stood, we wonder and we dream and as a people we process, like the turning of the arms upon that self-same object of precision, that perfect construct of the human perception of motion, we all move in forward motion.
In the next twenty pages I have laid out the calculations showing that the mechanical precision of time is the direction we should be moving and that such, excuse this derogatory term, primitive objects like the sundial must be left behind. I invite my fellow scholars to take note and work with me to see the new dawn of human knowledge.
[There’s a lot of math that follows. It may cause eyes to cross if stared at for too long. So much vindictive math.]
Written By Orathy
Aug. 9, 2019, 11:50 a.m.(8/14/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Tyrus
Ya were born with a silver spoon up yer arse, prince. Sometimes them of us who ain't gotta rich noble family to bathe us in finery 'n food, gotta take it when we ain't gotta way to make it. Not all pirates be the same, some simply be lads that ain't had a choice, shoved into the life it by one ruthless leader or the next, less they be cut down fer sayin no. Some aye, be choosin it, but some be seein it as a quick way to a full belly 'n some silver fer their trouble.
Aye, the next time when ya cuttin down a lad of eighteen springs 'n callin it duty 'n givin no thought to why they be there, remember, you ain't no better fer this world than me, mate.
Aye, the next time when ya cuttin down a lad of eighteen springs 'n callin it duty 'n givin no thought to why they be there, remember, you ain't no better fer this world than me, mate.
Written By Maja
Aug. 9, 2019, 6:23 a.m.(8/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Baelos
Prince Baelos Redrain is a villain! He is dastardly and wicked man who gives no consideration to innocent young women who simply wish to have a peaceful soak in the baths. In other words: it was a delight meeting him and I look forward to future encounters.
Welcome to the city, your highness.
Welcome to the city, your highness.
Written By Malcolm
Aug. 9, 2019, 5:18 a.m.(8/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Delilah
Star-bright and midnight. The political match that happened unexpectedly. Smart and sharp and a spirit for adventure that's equal to my own. Duchess-Consort of Graypeak. Best friend.
Written By Vincenzo
Aug. 9, 2019, 1:16 a.m.(8/13/1011 AR)
I wonder by what happy accident did gods create hidden treasures such as rainbows behind waterfalls, or vitreous worlds that dizzyingly whorl on the surface of a bubble? Little things hidden away, so beautiful, that generally are missed.
I wonder what else I've missed.
I wonder what else I've missed.
Written By Yvon
Aug. 9, 2019, 12:47 a.m.(8/13/1011 AR)
Magic exists. This we know. This is an article of Faith.
Four years ago, in 1007, Dominus Orazio clarified the Laws of Limerance to permit select approved magical practices while forbidding abyssal magics and congress with abyssal beings. Because such things absolutely exist. In fact, a coven, if that is the correct term, of princess-witches has wielded magic in defense of the Compact within recent memory.
This is common knowledge among certain segments of the city. Those in the know are shaking their heads at my ignorance. Of course magic exists! There is widespread, conclusive knowledge of actual, non-metaphorical, existing magic ... among the few. And if you are one of the many, like myself, to whom this comes as a surprise? Then I pray you have a better excuse for your blindness than I. How can I have failed to heed the Dominus for -years- after he declared that magic exists? The Laws of Limerance make it utterly clear.
As does the recent history of the city.
Some of Tolemar Brand's troops were animated by abyssal magic. They possessed unmistakably inhuman strength and speed. Knights report battles against animals and humans twisted by the abyssal realms, warped into demonic monsters who could casually rip men in half. Soldiers report monsters formed out of many men, shambling to destroy. An uncrewed longship sailed through Arx's harbor directly into an open berth without collision, bearing a gift of hulking rune-covered ballistae. Many among us fought the Gyre, battling uncanny servants of the Archfiend of the Deeps. Every vessel from the Mourning Isles sank into the waves as if turned to stone. Sailors were drowned by oily black tentacles and the navy that attacked was not comprised of human soldiers, but of dead things, some bloated, others skeletal, encrusted with barnacles and rotting seaweed.
We forged relations with the elves, who practice blood-magic and are not precisely human, exactly as our queen is not precisely human. An army of automatons rose from the waves. A choir of highborn witches sang a creature from the sea in the aid of Mangata. A huge blue-black monster hunted them and a glass shark leaped from the water. Murderdogs and squid-horses were reported by people of good repute. We have reports of a man turned into a swarm of insects, of a storm of blood-drinking bats--winged rats with snake-tails and snake fangs--sweeping across the Lowers. In finest drawing rooms in the Compact there are those who claim to have spoken with embodied gods. Dragons exist--this is a statement of tedious fact in diplomatic salons--and demons exist, too. An ancient member of the Metallic Order, a mage called Brass, lives within the city. Skald Himself lives in Arx, which is a city built atop a necropolis constructed to appease the Queen of Endings.
Yet do these things touch commoners like you and me? They do. For a moment, no more than a second, every single silver coin in Arx glowed faintly. You remember that. And you remember this, though you might prefer that you didn't: for an instant, every single person within the walls of Arx felt a sense of terror, of anguish. As though the world was coming to an end, as though your very essence was being consumed.
Is -that- all? No. There is more, but I shall end with a final ringing condemnation of my previous ignorance. A castle appeared, magicked from nowhere, in the forest outside of the city. Climb the walls tomorrow and look to the northeast. The spires still rise above the trees. An entire castle. Appeared. By magic. And somehow this did not shake the foundations of my world ... or yours.
Four years ago, in 1007, Dominus Orazio clarified the Laws of Limerance to permit select approved magical practices while forbidding abyssal magics and congress with abyssal beings. Because such things absolutely exist. In fact, a coven, if that is the correct term, of princess-witches has wielded magic in defense of the Compact within recent memory.
This is common knowledge among certain segments of the city. Those in the know are shaking their heads at my ignorance. Of course magic exists! There is widespread, conclusive knowledge of actual, non-metaphorical, existing magic ... among the few. And if you are one of the many, like myself, to whom this comes as a surprise? Then I pray you have a better excuse for your blindness than I. How can I have failed to heed the Dominus for -years- after he declared that magic exists? The Laws of Limerance make it utterly clear.
As does the recent history of the city.
Some of Tolemar Brand's troops were animated by abyssal magic. They possessed unmistakably inhuman strength and speed. Knights report battles against animals and humans twisted by the abyssal realms, warped into demonic monsters who could casually rip men in half. Soldiers report monsters formed out of many men, shambling to destroy. An uncrewed longship sailed through Arx's harbor directly into an open berth without collision, bearing a gift of hulking rune-covered ballistae. Many among us fought the Gyre, battling uncanny servants of the Archfiend of the Deeps. Every vessel from the Mourning Isles sank into the waves as if turned to stone. Sailors were drowned by oily black tentacles and the navy that attacked was not comprised of human soldiers, but of dead things, some bloated, others skeletal, encrusted with barnacles and rotting seaweed.
We forged relations with the elves, who practice blood-magic and are not precisely human, exactly as our queen is not precisely human. An army of automatons rose from the waves. A choir of highborn witches sang a creature from the sea in the aid of Mangata. A huge blue-black monster hunted them and a glass shark leaped from the water. Murderdogs and squid-horses were reported by people of good repute. We have reports of a man turned into a swarm of insects, of a storm of blood-drinking bats--winged rats with snake-tails and snake fangs--sweeping across the Lowers. In finest drawing rooms in the Compact there are those who claim to have spoken with embodied gods. Dragons exist--this is a statement of tedious fact in diplomatic salons--and demons exist, too. An ancient member of the Metallic Order, a mage called Brass, lives within the city. Skald Himself lives in Arx, which is a city built atop a necropolis constructed to appease the Queen of Endings.
Yet do these things touch commoners like you and me? They do. For a moment, no more than a second, every single silver coin in Arx glowed faintly. You remember that. And you remember this, though you might prefer that you didn't: for an instant, every single person within the walls of Arx felt a sense of terror, of anguish. As though the world was coming to an end, as though your very essence was being consumed.
Is -that- all? No. There is more, but I shall end with a final ringing condemnation of my previous ignorance. A castle appeared, magicked from nowhere, in the forest outside of the city. Climb the walls tomorrow and look to the northeast. The spires still rise above the trees. An entire castle. Appeared. By magic. And somehow this did not shake the foundations of my world ... or yours.
Written By Malcolm
Aug. 8, 2019, 10:45 p.m.(8/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Monique
Lady 'Nique Greenmarch. Minx of the Marches. Bookshop Owner. Keen eye for shiny. Protege. Friend.
Written By Delia
Aug. 8, 2019, 10:02 p.m.(8/13/1011 AR)
I leave the city and say to myself: 'Delia, there's a whole world out there for you to see! This will be an adventure anyone would pay highly to read about!'
And when I arrive at my destination, I say to myself: 'Delia, what did you think, that anywhere else can quite compare to Arx? Where else are the best parties? The best secrets? The best company, fashion, food and fine wine?'
And when I come home, I say nothing to myself, because I am too delighted for my words to express. The best of my friends are here and I am so glad to be back with them all.
And when I arrive at my destination, I say to myself: 'Delia, what did you think, that anywhere else can quite compare to Arx? Where else are the best parties? The best secrets? The best company, fashion, food and fine wine?'
And when I come home, I say nothing to myself, because I am too delighted for my words to express. The best of my friends are here and I am so glad to be back with them all.
Written By Thesarin
Aug. 8, 2019, 9:46 p.m.(8/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Shard
It is a hell of a thing, killing folk.
Take away all they got, all they would've had.
Take away all they got, all they would've had.
Written By Thea
Aug. 8, 2019, 9:30 p.m.(8/13/1011 AR)
Preparing to go North. Wish me luck...
Written By Tikva
Aug. 8, 2019, 9:26 p.m.(8/13/1011 AR)
Motherhood creates you anew. Treasure your children; every moment is worth it.
They grow so strong, and bold, and fierce. Lord Tiber trains a little with the wooden sword, now, for all that he is still small, and Prince Asharion and Princess Lara are both so quick and bright, so full of their father's joyous spirit.
It is impossible to be weighted down when listening to their laughter. It is impossible to feel dread, or doubt, when I bury my face in their hair, and embrace them in both arms, and tell them I love them.
My children make me strong in ways that were unimaginable to me before I bore them. If I falter, still they shall lift me up, not with strength of arms, but with the certainty of their bright youth.
The will to hope is a powerful force that shall not be denied.
They grow so strong, and bold, and fierce. Lord Tiber trains a little with the wooden sword, now, for all that he is still small, and Prince Asharion and Princess Lara are both so quick and bright, so full of their father's joyous spirit.
It is impossible to be weighted down when listening to their laughter. It is impossible to feel dread, or doubt, when I bury my face in their hair, and embrace them in both arms, and tell them I love them.
My children make me strong in ways that were unimaginable to me before I bore them. If I falter, still they shall lift me up, not with strength of arms, but with the certainty of their bright youth.
The will to hope is a powerful force that shall not be denied.
Written By Arcadia
Aug. 8, 2019, 7:07 p.m.(8/12/1011 AR)
I know I've arrived home when my mother immediately tells me she dislikes my haircut and the have an additional six guards and Sir Jesmond to look over me.
It's like they expect me to get into trouble.
It's like they expect me to get into trouble.
Written By Monique
Aug. 8, 2019, 12:53 p.m.(8/12/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Silvio
I wonder if Lord Silvio knows that while his outsides are undeniably stunning, it is his heart that is the most beautiful thing about him. I know this to be true.
Written By Tyrus
Aug. 8, 2019, 8:50 a.m.(8/12/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Archeron
Until my return, I thought Margot, Duchess Margot now, was also the sole survivour. As I imagine was intended for the rest of the world to believe.
I did not look after all orphans, no. Even with charities and orphanages, there are always those who will not be found, cannot be reached. I rather doubt any survivour of Tyde or their vassals would have been tempted to join a place associated to a Thraxian prince.
If any ever did, desperate or unaware of the danger, I don't know. As I said, I doubt it. It'd have been far too easy for Donrai to turn it into a trap. Perhaps he did. He certainly had the means.
I did not look after all orphans, no. Even with charities and orphanages, there are always those who will not be found, cannot be reached. I rather doubt any survivour of Tyde or their vassals would have been tempted to join a place associated to a Thraxian prince.
If any ever did, desperate or unaware of the danger, I don't know. As I said, I doubt it. It'd have been far too easy for Donrai to turn it into a trap. Perhaps he did. He certainly had the means.
Written By Shard
Aug. 8, 2019, 2:31 a.m.(8/11/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Preston
The idea that killing a person somehow damages you forever is an idea I've always found to be ridiculous nonsense, and it's usually trotted out by someone who either has had the luxury of being able to choose whether or not they'll take a life, or someone who has been listening to people who have. That's not to say that the first time it happens to someone it doesn't affect them somehow--I think I'd look sideways at anyone who didn't at least feel /something/--or that it can't be awful. There's a reason people tend to remember first kills. I threw up after mine.
I tentatively agree that it's the reasons for it, and just who exactly is dying, that matters. Some people really do just need killing. A lot of people, sometimes. Some people have to die because there's no better way around it. And for some people, dying is better than the situation they're in.
It's the ones that didn't have to die, and didn't deserve to die, that should haunt people. Unfortunately, most of their murderers are usually very good at justifying their ghosts.
I tentatively agree that it's the reasons for it, and just who exactly is dying, that matters. Some people really do just need killing. A lot of people, sometimes. Some people have to die because there's no better way around it. And for some people, dying is better than the situation they're in.
It's the ones that didn't have to die, and didn't deserve to die, that should haunt people. Unfortunately, most of their murderers are usually very good at justifying their ghosts.
Written By Mabelle
Aug. 8, 2019, 12:12 a.m.(8/11/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Cassima
Princess,
Your hospitality and kindness knows no bound. I've had a magnificent time and dinner and look forward to speak more about that elusive topic we left open. Oh my how I am curious. Next time in the Laurent estate.
Your hospitality and kindness knows no bound. I've had a magnificent time and dinner and look forward to speak more about that elusive topic we left open. Oh my how I am curious. Next time in the Laurent estate.
Written By Mabelle
Aug. 8, 2019, 12:08 a.m.(8/11/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Sven
Master Sven was able to obtain something for me I have coveted for a long time.
If you are having trouble finding something in the market, Master Sven is the one to contact!
If you are having trouble finding something in the market, Master Sven is the one to contact!
Written By Wren
Aug. 7, 2019, 10:11 p.m.(8/11/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Josephine
I'm quite satisfied--to be honest, rather honored--to be able to wear such excellent work. I've always held a deep fondness for the sea, and these starfish are utterly glorious. They remind me of warm, crystalline waters and soft sand beneath my feet; the deep velvet of twilight fringed with vibrant orange and purples and that pale pink glow. Of secrets whispered, and lost, amid salt-kissed breezes.
I did say I was going to spoil myself with something shiny, so who can fault me if it that something is multiple brilliant pieces that I shall treasure for years to come. I deserve it, after all.
I did say I was going to spoil myself with something shiny, so who can fault me if it that something is multiple brilliant pieces that I shall treasure for years to come. I deserve it, after all.
Written By Dustin
Aug. 7, 2019, 8:40 p.m.(8/10/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Ras
You think them silks have more important things to do than get mad at some vagabond in the lowers.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.