Written By Arcadia
July 3, 2019, 6:04 a.m.(5/23/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Magnus
I have been married almost a full week, and these are things I have learnt so far.
1. My husband likes to sleep with his axe nearby. Sneaking into bed could prove hazardous to my health.
2. The threat to my rabbit being eaten has been increased tenfold. I have heard the staff muttering about the wild food in the house.
3. I have learnt numerous bad words in Northern Shav when I tried to change the decor from black and white to something more bright and inviting, like pink.
1. My husband likes to sleep with his axe nearby. Sneaking into bed could prove hazardous to my health.
2. The threat to my rabbit being eaten has been increased tenfold. I have heard the staff muttering about the wild food in the house.
3. I have learnt numerous bad words in Northern Shav when I tried to change the decor from black and white to something more bright and inviting, like pink.
Written By Samithel
July 3, 2019, 2:49 a.m.(5/23/1011 AR)
Somewhere in the unknown expanses of the Night sea, there once stood an island of trees. A great forest spanned almost its entirety, but for the villages in the beaches under the sunrise, and the tunnels in the mountains beneath the sunset.
These two groups of people would often fight, because the mountain people had all the metals, and the sand people had the easiest access to food. The unfortunate case of this island was that only the people and its trees lived there. These trees had leaves but no flowers; branches but no fruit.
One day, the chieftain of the Sunrise Tribe, realizing his was a losing battle--they only held their advantage so long as they held the easiest root to the sea, and metal weapons and armor would eventually outdo that through conquest-decided he would bring an end to the Sunset Tribe once and for all. He turned to their greatest source of power, and sought a way to use it against his enemies. The Sunrise Tribe found nowhere to turn but the sea.
And in time, under the distant noses of the Sunset Tribe, they decided the best way to slay their life-long nemeses was to give them what they wanted.
Something great and indescribable happened that day, when sea swept across the land like wind. And when the sun rose, the island was nowhere to be seen. All its people drowned. Only the trees, deep beneath the waters, survived.
IN this way it was for many, many years. Even when the trees were uprooted and smashed to pieces by the current, they remained as wood. And when they wash up on the beach…today we call them driftwood.
But there is a stranger mystery yet; another secret to the trees. Driftwood has its reflection: those fragments lost at sea--buried in the ocean floor, or lodged in rocks. These pieces transformed, hardened, and blackened, to arrive beneath our shores as a material both wood and stone.
Stand in Arx today; travel to the temples of the gods. There is one that looms rather than stands, its polished walls seemingly carved of black stone, the time of its construction forever lost to us. But what if it is more? After all, there is a small fragment of that island which was buried in mistakes surviving on Arvum, and--perhaps--surviving wherever land meets the water.
These two groups of people would often fight, because the mountain people had all the metals, and the sand people had the easiest access to food. The unfortunate case of this island was that only the people and its trees lived there. These trees had leaves but no flowers; branches but no fruit.
One day, the chieftain of the Sunrise Tribe, realizing his was a losing battle--they only held their advantage so long as they held the easiest root to the sea, and metal weapons and armor would eventually outdo that through conquest-decided he would bring an end to the Sunset Tribe once and for all. He turned to their greatest source of power, and sought a way to use it against his enemies. The Sunrise Tribe found nowhere to turn but the sea.
And in time, under the distant noses of the Sunset Tribe, they decided the best way to slay their life-long nemeses was to give them what they wanted.
Something great and indescribable happened that day, when sea swept across the land like wind. And when the sun rose, the island was nowhere to be seen. All its people drowned. Only the trees, deep beneath the waters, survived.
IN this way it was for many, many years. Even when the trees were uprooted and smashed to pieces by the current, they remained as wood. And when they wash up on the beach…today we call them driftwood.
But there is a stranger mystery yet; another secret to the trees. Driftwood has its reflection: those fragments lost at sea--buried in the ocean floor, or lodged in rocks. These pieces transformed, hardened, and blackened, to arrive beneath our shores as a material both wood and stone.
Stand in Arx today; travel to the temples of the gods. There is one that looms rather than stands, its polished walls seemingly carved of black stone, the time of its construction forever lost to us. But what if it is more? After all, there is a small fragment of that island which was buried in mistakes surviving on Arvum, and--perhaps--surviving wherever land meets the water.
Written By Mailys
July 3, 2019, 2:15 a.m.(5/23/1011 AR)
Not so common dresses for common folk! I love silks, don't get me wrong, but those few linen maxi dresses I put in the shop sold well.
So much so, that I think I might make a few for the Lady Death, as well. Masses of silver shouldn't be a requirement for a festival, after all.
So much so, that I think I might make a few for the Lady Death, as well. Masses of silver shouldn't be a requirement for a festival, after all.
Written By Rinel
July 3, 2019, 1:21 a.m.(5/23/1011 AR)
I don't understand. I'm trying to make things right, and every apology I make falls on deaf ears, every truth I tell places yet another wall between me and the only thing that matters. I want to give up, but I can't. I can't give up on the Gods. I can't give up on my faith.
I just want to be useful.
What do you do when the only thing that matters is everything to you, and you're less than nothing to it?
I just want to be useful.
What do you do when the only thing that matters is everything to you, and you're less than nothing to it?
Written By Calandra
July 3, 2019, 12:58 a.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
Today's hunt, generously sponsored by Princess Zara Valardin and Princess Tikva Grayson, was a magnificent display of skill on the part of the participants. It's been some time since I last spectated one, but one can never forget the thrill of it. I doubt I will ever be as skilled with large weapons as they, but maybe in time I might learn the bow, which Princess Tikva was so kind to offer.
I have such deep gratitude to Princess Zara, however, for the stunning outfit she provided me that I was able to show for her at the feast. She has a mind for fashion I can't help but admire.
Princess Reese took first place for felling a mighty stag while Sparte Grayfallow took second. Sir Jeffeth took third for taking down the black boar, though from what I hear he wrestled it with his bare hands? An impressive and dangerous feat on its own, surely.
All in all an eventful day, I would say. Though one born of the city, I quite enjoy the beauty of the outdoors. I'll have to make a note to plan for more outings soon just so I can experience more of it.
I have such deep gratitude to Princess Zara, however, for the stunning outfit she provided me that I was able to show for her at the feast. She has a mind for fashion I can't help but admire.
Princess Reese took first place for felling a mighty stag while Sparte Grayfallow took second. Sir Jeffeth took third for taking down the black boar, though from what I hear he wrestled it with his bare hands? An impressive and dangerous feat on its own, surely.
All in all an eventful day, I would say. Though one born of the city, I quite enjoy the beauty of the outdoors. I'll have to make a note to plan for more outings soon just so I can experience more of it.
Written By Vincenzo
July 2, 2019, 11:49 p.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Niccolo
It was a beautiful spring morning today, I woke early for a meeting with importers at the botanical gardens. Seeing the sunrise touch pearls of dew, turning gemmed petals with a golden hue and breathing in the light perfume was simply perfect, plus the deal sealed was absolutely excellent for all parties. And so it came that I heard the passing of a man I once had the privilege of calling uncle.
That old fox played the game very well, making allies and gaining powerful enemies as each seemed to be fluid depending on the moment. Death comes for all, we just choose whether we'll meet her with honor or not.
I'll remember something you taught though. Failure is required in order to grow, and without it, I'd stagnate and grow complacent. You said don't be ruled by failure or pain, learn to accept it and learn from it so I might grow. And above all, find out the truth from that experience and bring it to the light.
I've failed those whom I loved the most in this world, and I failed specifically one treasured above all. I will use the memory of the man who was once my uncle and set out to do something different, a new adventure. To take a new risk and grow.
Vapid enemy hiding in plain sight, always so hungry to devour while you search what you can't have. You and your friends have grown complacent because you don't embrace that failure can make you better.
I'm coming.
That old fox played the game very well, making allies and gaining powerful enemies as each seemed to be fluid depending on the moment. Death comes for all, we just choose whether we'll meet her with honor or not.
I'll remember something you taught though. Failure is required in order to grow, and without it, I'd stagnate and grow complacent. You said don't be ruled by failure or pain, learn to accept it and learn from it so I might grow. And above all, find out the truth from that experience and bring it to the light.
I've failed those whom I loved the most in this world, and I failed specifically one treasured above all. I will use the memory of the man who was once my uncle and set out to do something different, a new adventure. To take a new risk and grow.
Vapid enemy hiding in plain sight, always so hungry to devour while you search what you can't have. You and your friends have grown complacent because you don't embrace that failure can make you better.
I'm coming.
Written By Mirari
July 2, 2019, 11:42 p.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Delilah
My cat eats bugs. Is this knowledge that fills you with burning questions? I promise you that knowledge will not "die" even if it doesn't.
Written By Valencia
July 2, 2019, 10:49 p.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Niccolo
No words. Heart finally fully broken.
Written By Duarte
July 2, 2019, 10:38 p.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
A day and a night in the Shrine of the Thirteen.
Here I begin a tour through each sanctum dedicated to Gods, and thus ending (somewhat) what has been perhaps a years' reclusion.
Oh I've had a time of it, but nightmares and lessening appetites seem a paltry plight, pondering predicaments plaguing paupers.
I shan't describe in detail here any affliction. I'm certain nothing that has happened to me exists. I have a wild imagination, it seems. Hopefully a healthy dose of religion can temper it? Bring it to heel?
And so my first day is here contemplating the part(s) of me that have primarily propelled self to the circumstances in which I am found.
And as I gaze upon my own visage I can't help but reflect that those drives and motivations that have led to this dismay are the very same that have brought me my greatest success.
Sagacity would be practiced in knowing one's greatest strengths are also the very thing that can condemn one. A chink in every armor. Soft spots in every sword.
A lesson learned too late?
Hmm. Hmmmm.
Here I begin a tour through each sanctum dedicated to Gods, and thus ending (somewhat) what has been perhaps a years' reclusion.
Oh I've had a time of it, but nightmares and lessening appetites seem a paltry plight, pondering predicaments plaguing paupers.
I shan't describe in detail here any affliction. I'm certain nothing that has happened to me exists. I have a wild imagination, it seems. Hopefully a healthy dose of religion can temper it? Bring it to heel?
And so my first day is here contemplating the part(s) of me that have primarily propelled self to the circumstances in which I am found.
And as I gaze upon my own visage I can't help but reflect that those drives and motivations that have led to this dismay are the very same that have brought me my greatest success.
Sagacity would be practiced in knowing one's greatest strengths are also the very thing that can condemn one. A chink in every armor. Soft spots in every sword.
A lesson learned too late?
Hmm. Hmmmm.
Written By Arman
July 2, 2019, 10:06 p.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Niccolo
Forever emblazoned within my memory shall be the day you stood as the victor of the Tournament of Roses, the horns of a hundred heralds at your back as all eyes turned to you for the moment in which you asked your boon from the King. I will never forget the gasps that ruptured throughout the audience, Peer and commoner alike and the look of adoration that filled my cousin's face. While by today's standards your acts would be far less of a surprise, marriage born in love becoming more common amongst the Peerage, I fear they forget it was you who paved the way for them and shocked a kingdom. Your bravery in the face of the court of public opinion.
I may not have agreed with it then and I may not agree with it now, but you changed the world as we knew it.
I may not have agreed with it then and I may not agree with it now, but you changed the world as we knew it.
Written By Calista
July 2, 2019, 9:34 p.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Niccolo
I heard the news today and could not believe it. My heart is broken but I am ever so grateful for the time in which we became more than allies. We shared in grief and joy together, but where it not for your guidance, your patience, kindness, and friendship, I would have made many mistakes those first couple of years after Leo's disappearance. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all that you taught me. Rest sweetly in peace.
Written By Rysen
July 2, 2019, 6:22 p.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Elisha
I will admit this much: your words have caused me to reflect with unflinching attention. I do not always like what I've seen.
Written By Sparte
July 2, 2019, 5:29 p.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
It is so easy to forget the quill that rests with the tome. I met another person who collected books but does not write, and it just left me feeling sad for them.
Written By Delilah
July 2, 2019, 2:44 p.m.(5/22/1011 AR)
Any knowledge that doesn't lead to new questions quickly dies out: it fails to maintain the temperature required for sustaining life.
Written By Rysen
July 2, 2019, 12:49 p.m.(5/21/1011 AR)
The Tournament of Thorns shone brightly with fierce competition, and stunning prizes. The event was wreathed in wonder, almost as if the Judgement Green had truly become the land of Aildorich, where the next ruler would be decided by demonstrated skill and Fortune's fickle love.
My sincere thanks to Lady Monique Greenmarch and my fellow thorn bearers for their time and effort - and also to the competitors, before whose collective talents my words must simply bow and stand in awe.
My sincere thanks to Lady Monique Greenmarch and my fellow thorn bearers for their time and effort - and also to the competitors, before whose collective talents my words must simply bow and stand in awe.
Written By Llewella
July 2, 2019, 12:43 p.m.(5/21/1011 AR)
I've returned to Arx and cannot help but be struck by how empty the halls of Melaeris are here. There are the servants and statues for company but little else.
The statues remind me of home at least. Everywhere these odd figures of knights in poses one would not normally put knightly statues. Crying. Praying. It makes me wonder what the history of each figure is, and realize that I do not know the answers at all.
What makes you cry, Sir Marble? To whom are you praying, Sir Granite?
The statues remind me of home at least. Everywhere these odd figures of knights in poses one would not normally put knightly statues. Crying. Praying. It makes me wonder what the history of each figure is, and realize that I do not know the answers at all.
What makes you cry, Sir Marble? To whom are you praying, Sir Granite?
Written By Lucita
July 2, 2019, 11:40 a.m.(5/21/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Niccolo
The Black Fox is gone? Prince Niccolo is gone? Memories of him standing strong on the walls of Setarco during the war fill my thoughts and sorrow, a sense of loss darkens the day.
Written By Elisha
July 2, 2019, 12:37 a.m.(5/20/1011 AR)
"Truth is a hungry thief who wears many cloaks." - Vellichor
* * *
What does one call a journal reduced by fire to a mineral? The quarry walls—tool-marked, wind-pitted—long ago contained our first alphabets and now cradle our final flames on their scree-ridden edges.
You excavate stones as columns, crowned with acanthus leaves, and I lose myself in your forest. Absent the whole, the part suffices. The gleam of my lover's laughter is the same color as the tongue of the asp; a blue flash at bright noon.
An image emerges from, disperses into, light. Above the ruined half-arch of the aqueduct, the water's silver shimmer becomes a skylady's noose. A gust of wind becomes stretched-leather wings, thinner than spiderweb, contain in fractal branching veins all the prisons we are afraid to escape.
Light shines through them, and disperses into light.
(What does one call the knight who wishes death upon a child held hostage by a prophesy? With what coin does the Seraph of Fireside buy the loyalty of the faith militant? Orazio whispers, "A title is the opposite of a dream," and renounces her title every night before closing her busy eyes.)
* * *
What does one call a journal reduced by fire to a mineral? The quarry walls—tool-marked, wind-pitted—long ago contained our first alphabets and now cradle our final flames on their scree-ridden edges.
You excavate stones as columns, crowned with acanthus leaves, and I lose myself in your forest. Absent the whole, the part suffices. The gleam of my lover's laughter is the same color as the tongue of the asp; a blue flash at bright noon.
An image emerges from, disperses into, light. Above the ruined half-arch of the aqueduct, the water's silver shimmer becomes a skylady's noose. A gust of wind becomes stretched-leather wings, thinner than spiderweb, contain in fractal branching veins all the prisons we are afraid to escape.
Light shines through them, and disperses into light.
(What does one call the knight who wishes death upon a child held hostage by a prophesy? With what coin does the Seraph of Fireside buy the loyalty of the faith militant? Orazio whispers, "A title is the opposite of a dream," and renounces her title every night before closing her busy eyes.)
Written By Dianara
July 1, 2019, 10:15 p.m.(5/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Gerald
You ever meet someone and just -know- they were a very naughty child growing up?
Written By Dianara
July 1, 2019, 10:13 p.m.(5/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Tyrus
The quickest way to forget one's own troubles is to consider another's instead.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.