Written By Victus
Jan. 15, 2024, 3:51 p.m.(7/23/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Dagon
You are my regret. I hope, in another life, I can make it up to you.
Written By Victus
Jan. 15, 2024, 3:50 p.m.(7/23/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Denica
You've always kept smiling. I don't know how you've done it, but I appreciate it. I always have.
Written By Victus
Jan. 15, 2024, 3:46 p.m.(7/23/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Alarissa
My single, selfish want in marriage beyond strengthening our house, was to find someone tolerable. Against the odds of our world, I even found someone to love.
Written By Victus
Jan. 15, 2024, 3:44 p.m.(7/23/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Leona
My cousin once told me, years ago during the Gyre's war, that Maelstrom was not its walls. It was its people. A sentiment I see echoed often now.
Back then, I disagreed. I saw the monuments and history written into the stone as more important than life itself. Held close to my pride in the fact that Maelstrom is one of the few strongholds in the Compact to never fall in war.
Well. I'm older now. A few tens of thousands have died. I look at those walls now and I wonder what it's all for, if but a monument built on top of dead bodies that'll never get to walk their ramparts.
Still. It's home.
I walked the length of the Graveyard of Swords. I stood before the great Colossus of Mangata. Things that I have been fortunate enough to put into motion and see completed in my lifetime. Perhaps something will be left of it, when all is said and done. If not for us, then for the ones who come after to see. To grieve. To remember. To theorize once we've been long forgotten. Just momentos that tell them we were here once.
Do not cry for what will be lost. Tears in our wake, never at our wake.
If they remember me as someone who did their job "adequately", I think I'll be happy. I still miss you, Leona. Silver. Whatever you call yourself now. You'll always be a Thrax to me.
Back then, I disagreed. I saw the monuments and history written into the stone as more important than life itself. Held close to my pride in the fact that Maelstrom is one of the few strongholds in the Compact to never fall in war.
Well. I'm older now. A few tens of thousands have died. I look at those walls now and I wonder what it's all for, if but a monument built on top of dead bodies that'll never get to walk their ramparts.
Still. It's home.
I walked the length of the Graveyard of Swords. I stood before the great Colossus of Mangata. Things that I have been fortunate enough to put into motion and see completed in my lifetime. Perhaps something will be left of it, when all is said and done. If not for us, then for the ones who come after to see. To grieve. To remember. To theorize once we've been long forgotten. Just momentos that tell them we were here once.
Do not cry for what will be lost. Tears in our wake, never at our wake.
If they remember me as someone who did their job "adequately", I think I'll be happy. I still miss you, Leona. Silver. Whatever you call yourself now. You'll always be a Thrax to me.
Written By Aconite
Jan. 15, 2024, 1:50 p.m.(7/22/1021 AR)
I feel as if I am to live and die alone. It is for the best.
When I die my blacks may be made public. I did not really trust them once I knew what lay beneath the library. So they won't say much.
When I die my blacks may be made public. I did not really trust them once I knew what lay beneath the library. So they won't say much.
Written By Jan
Jan. 15, 2024, 11:01 a.m.(7/22/1021 AR)
To sort out any confusion on expanding my vocabulary. It is to succinctly sum up the present catastrophic situation as 'fucked' doesn't seem adequate, does it? Fear not, if ever there was an occasion I was born for it was to find the right profanity for this occasion.
Written By Sen'azala
Jan. 15, 2024, 8:09 a.m.(7/22/1021 AR)
My adopted people were nomads that followed the seasonal caribou migrations from the northernmost parts of the Northlands into the Everwinter. I grew up knowing forests, tundras, mountains and plains, caves, rivers, vast lakes, little ponds, spring, summer, fall and winter. Every few years, we would have to change our routes, sometimes dramatically so, either because of Compact expansion or patrols, threats from other tribes, or the Horned God. Often the Horned God. There were places I loved that I would stay only a month or so, and one day we'd simply never go back that way again. I've said this multiple times in the past week alone, so I imagine anyone who's been around me is getting tired of hearing it, but I'm going to say it again:
Home is where you stand.
Houses and castles, those are buildings. They can be rebuilt, or built elsewhere. Fields and orchards can be replanted, or new ones grown. Things you own, no matter how precious, no matter how irreplaceable, are ultimately just things. As painful as it may be to leave somewhere you love, somewhere you've been your whole life, somewhere your family has lived for generations, that place is ultimately a patch of land, earth and stone. You can find another. No matter how much it may hurt, you can find another.
Another Reckoning is here. If all you've got holding you in place is pride, then toss it aside and walk away. I don't expect to be listened to, but there are plenty of houses that refused to retreat to Arx the last time whose names you don't know because not a single person was left to remember them. Some of the names that managed to be remembered came back to haunt us, such as House Marin. If you are trying to endure this alone you won't survive, and your lands will be taken from you anyway.
There are forces moving to protect major holdings, escort refugees, or try to slow down what's coming. There are not nearly enough for any of it, and every single person who can wield a weapon who does not aid those efforts or fall back to defend Arx in favor of valiant but ultimately pointless last stands is not only throwing their own life away, but the lives of however many other people their actions could otherwise help save. What's at stake is not a house, not a holding, not a kingdom, and not the Compact. What's at stake isn't even Arvum and every person living on it. It's the world. We hold the city or everyone dies, and no one in the entire world will be left to remember you.
Home is where you stand, and if we do not stand together, the only thing that will matter will be who gets devoured first.
Home is where you stand.
Houses and castles, those are buildings. They can be rebuilt, or built elsewhere. Fields and orchards can be replanted, or new ones grown. Things you own, no matter how precious, no matter how irreplaceable, are ultimately just things. As painful as it may be to leave somewhere you love, somewhere you've been your whole life, somewhere your family has lived for generations, that place is ultimately a patch of land, earth and stone. You can find another. No matter how much it may hurt, you can find another.
Another Reckoning is here. If all you've got holding you in place is pride, then toss it aside and walk away. I don't expect to be listened to, but there are plenty of houses that refused to retreat to Arx the last time whose names you don't know because not a single person was left to remember them. Some of the names that managed to be remembered came back to haunt us, such as House Marin. If you are trying to endure this alone you won't survive, and your lands will be taken from you anyway.
There are forces moving to protect major holdings, escort refugees, or try to slow down what's coming. There are not nearly enough for any of it, and every single person who can wield a weapon who does not aid those efforts or fall back to defend Arx in favor of valiant but ultimately pointless last stands is not only throwing their own life away, but the lives of however many other people their actions could otherwise help save. What's at stake is not a house, not a holding, not a kingdom, and not the Compact. What's at stake isn't even Arvum and every person living on it. It's the world. We hold the city or everyone dies, and no one in the entire world will be left to remember you.
Home is where you stand, and if we do not stand together, the only thing that will matter will be who gets devoured first.
Written By Mabelle
Jan. 15, 2024, 1:48 a.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
I did not want to leave the first time it burned.
I will not leave now that it is threatened again.
Our people will be safe.
House Laurent will live on.
I am none without Artshall.
I will not leave now that it is threatened again.
Our people will be safe.
House Laurent will live on.
I am none without Artshall.
Written By Lys
Jan. 15, 2024, 1:13 a.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Fuck it. It's the end of the world. Anyone want to be my husband and be a baron for a couple of weeks?
Written By Titus
Jan. 15, 2024, 12:59 a.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Khanne
Write about those you know of, of yourself. Commit to Vellichor's memory not just that you go to stand against the countless shards of darkness, of a mighty maw of the Devourer who wishes to engulf Arvum. Write about the little things which colour the names of who will one day become legends so people in the future know the lives that were lived and sacrificed for the many lives that will come.
For example, Duchess Khanne absolutely adores hairpins. She has probably over a hundred pairs and is always overjoyed and happy when a new pair is gifted to her.
I like to eat the Blueclaw Vine, it has a hot and peppery flavour and a velvet texture. It also has a faint glow of light blue in the summer nights, and if you were in Caldera you could catch a very rare moment when the nightbirds come to drink the nectar of those flowers and their feathers glow with a million different colours like little rainbows or auroras at night.
For example, Duchess Khanne absolutely adores hairpins. She has probably over a hundred pairs and is always overjoyed and happy when a new pair is gifted to her.
I like to eat the Blueclaw Vine, it has a hot and peppery flavour and a velvet texture. It also has a faint glow of light blue in the summer nights, and if you were in Caldera you could catch a very rare moment when the nightbirds come to drink the nectar of those flowers and their feathers glow with a million different colours like little rainbows or auroras at night.
Written By Lys
Jan. 15, 2024, 12:01 a.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
[This White Journal has bold, large lettering at the top of it.]
THE TRUTH AND LIES OF LYS DE LIRE.
I am a liar. I am a con artist, a scammer, a grifter.
I was abandoned as a baby to an orphanage. My parents were last known as 'Lord Valt' and 'Lady Willow'. One was a con artist and the other a grift. Two people pretending to be nobles with the idea in their heads to seduce a real, rich noble to land themselves a rich, titled spouse. Somewhere in their schemes they fell in love. They had me and abandoned me to the orphanage. The status of my parents is unknown. Do they live? Maybe. Are they dead? Maybe.
I grew up there in that orphanage in the Lowers. It was awful. I left younger than I should have. I was never good enough at any job to do well in them. I was too loud, to bright, to charming, to stubborn, to opinionated, to ready to fight. I fought customers, I fought my employers, I fought everyone and everything tooth and nail.
I belonged no where and with no one. I slept on the streets. In the backrooms of shops. I slept in dirt. I slept on the beach once or twice. I didn't always know where I was going to get food from because I was often without a job. And I was so very, very tire of fighting tooth and nail to survive. I was tired of trying to claw my way up to a better life through honesty and hard work.
Then Lord Commander Audric of the Valorous Few was ennobled by Talen Velenosa. As a reward for Talen winning the Rose Tournament, so many many years ago. Audric grew up in the same orphanage as I. So why wouldn't we be related? Why couldn't I be one of his long lost cousins?
I didn't expect him to welcome me with open arms. I didn't expect him to give me everything I had never had. I never expected him to give me a place to belong. I never expected him to teach me how to fight. How to /really/ fight. I didn't expect him to nurture me. To guide me. I didn't expect him to embrace me as family and love me. And yet he did.
I didn't expect him to not only help me awaken my natural abilities but to accept them. As unsavory as most find powers gifted to one by the abyss.
I miss him daily. But it is time to live. Time to let the ghosts go. Time to laugh again.
Time to stop pretending. Time to stop pretending at happiness and find some real joy. Time to step into the light and tell people who I am. I have no desire to harm others. No desire to see the world ended. To be torn asunder. But I am not a good woman. I am a Liar. I am a Trickster. I am a Teller of Tall Tales. Veil smiles upon me. I am telling the world this truth now, so that you know. It is not must job to show you the truth. When you see me, when you meet me, when you hear my words. It is your job to figure out what the truth is and what is ... the trick. The joke. The lie. Because:
I am Alyssa de Lire, Baroness of Afflua, Liar and Trickster.
THE TRUTH AND LIES OF LYS DE LIRE.
I am a liar. I am a con artist, a scammer, a grifter.
I was abandoned as a baby to an orphanage. My parents were last known as 'Lord Valt' and 'Lady Willow'. One was a con artist and the other a grift. Two people pretending to be nobles with the idea in their heads to seduce a real, rich noble to land themselves a rich, titled spouse. Somewhere in their schemes they fell in love. They had me and abandoned me to the orphanage. The status of my parents is unknown. Do they live? Maybe. Are they dead? Maybe.
I grew up there in that orphanage in the Lowers. It was awful. I left younger than I should have. I was never good enough at any job to do well in them. I was too loud, to bright, to charming, to stubborn, to opinionated, to ready to fight. I fought customers, I fought my employers, I fought everyone and everything tooth and nail.
I belonged no where and with no one. I slept on the streets. In the backrooms of shops. I slept in dirt. I slept on the beach once or twice. I didn't always know where I was going to get food from because I was often without a job. And I was so very, very tire of fighting tooth and nail to survive. I was tired of trying to claw my way up to a better life through honesty and hard work.
Then Lord Commander Audric of the Valorous Few was ennobled by Talen Velenosa. As a reward for Talen winning the Rose Tournament, so many many years ago. Audric grew up in the same orphanage as I. So why wouldn't we be related? Why couldn't I be one of his long lost cousins?
I didn't expect him to welcome me with open arms. I didn't expect him to give me everything I had never had. I never expected him to give me a place to belong. I never expected him to teach me how to fight. How to /really/ fight. I didn't expect him to nurture me. To guide me. I didn't expect him to embrace me as family and love me. And yet he did.
I didn't expect him to not only help me awaken my natural abilities but to accept them. As unsavory as most find powers gifted to one by the abyss.
I miss him daily. But it is time to live. Time to let the ghosts go. Time to laugh again.
Time to stop pretending. Time to stop pretending at happiness and find some real joy. Time to step into the light and tell people who I am. I have no desire to harm others. No desire to see the world ended. To be torn asunder. But I am not a good woman. I am a Liar. I am a Trickster. I am a Teller of Tall Tales. Veil smiles upon me. I am telling the world this truth now, so that you know. It is not must job to show you the truth. When you see me, when you meet me, when you hear my words. It is your job to figure out what the truth is and what is ... the trick. The joke. The lie. Because:
I am Alyssa de Lire, Baroness of Afflua, Liar and Trickster.
Written By Faye
Jan. 14, 2024, 11:17 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
I sent a note to the scholar staffing the traveling library dedicated to my mother. I am not sure if the note will reach him in time, but I told him he'd better get his ass to Sanctum. Leave the books, if necessary. If any of us survive, we will write more.
Written By Jan
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:36 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Somehow words fail me. I will find the right word for the occasion, fear not.
Written By Raven
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:35 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
I am paying now for not devoting more time prior to unraveling the enigmas that plague me. So much for tunnel vision.
Written By Fatima
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:13 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Day 7:
The hiding of belongings and material objects, while touching, will not matter if all is devoured.
There is a fine line between stupidity and bravery. Sometimes, they are one and the same.
Lemons are sweet and honey is sour.
The hiding of belongings and material objects, while touching, will not matter if all is devoured.
There is a fine line between stupidity and bravery. Sometimes, they are one and the same.
Lemons are sweet and honey is sour.
Written By Jan
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:08 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Well, at least I needn't fret trivial matters anymore.
Written By Raven
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:06 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
so I don't know if the vision was a warning or trolling. I know only my fate is mine to choose. I wish I had addressed the exorcism and the crossing before now.
Written By Denica
Jan. 14, 2024, 9:24 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
The mistakes in the painting are just as beautiful as the perfect strokes.
It's all art, be it, own it, we are who we are. Nothing more, nothing less.
It's all art, be it, own it, we are who we are. Nothing more, nothing less.
Written By Samira
Jan. 14, 2024, 8:17 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Today I share excerpts of Black Journal entries I've written over the years. In many ways, I feel so far removed from the person I was. And yet, I'm still her at the core. So many of these thoughts resonate...
- So much is uncertain. What I do know is this: If I were to let fear dictate my choices, I would have faded into the anonymity of the Lowers streets long ago.
- Through it all, art is the answer. Half the time I can't find the words to express what has unfolded or how I feel about it, but with a paintbrush in hand, it all flows so simply.
- I never knew it was possible to love someone so fiercely and yet be so infuriated by them at the same time. So much of the time, he feels like home and safety and what is meant to be. But sometimes... sometimes our stubbornness gets in the way and we are like two forces of nature colliding.
- Trust. It's such a difficult, slippery thing. The act of solidifying trust with someone -- of sharing your innermost thoughts and desires and your darkest secrets, entrusting them to another's discretion -- it can be both terrifying and freeing.
- Sometimes I'm so reticent to share information that I end up having to carry the weight of a thing all on my own. I didn't realize how heavy it all felt until I finally shared my truth with someone I trust beyond words. I'm grateful we carry one another's secrets. I would follow her to the far reaches of the world and face whatever life throws at us.
- Wagner came by Rabble Art the other day and found me in the midst of an artistic block. Inspiration had fled, nothing would come to me. I felt like I was a bundle of anger and frustration. So we took pottery outside and smashed it against the wall, naming things that pissed us off. Some of the things Wagner named make me wonder, but I'll not pry. Wouldn't be right. I felt a mixture of emotions afterwards. Worse in some ways, but mostly better. It's good to have people who'll stand beside you and yell frustrations out into the world. People who care. People who matter.
- Who am I? The foul-mouthed, scrappy Lowers lass or the polite and erudite commoner or the frenzied, inspired artist? Friend. Foe. Lover. Sister. All. I am all of them in one. Layers upon layers, we are all made up of so many pieces. That's what makes life interesting, each of us possessing so much yet to be discovered.
- I will never stop looking over my shoulder, wondering if they're coming my way yet. I will never stop training. I will never stop attempting everything in my power to make myself stronger, smarter, faster in an attempt to evade these monsters that seek to destroy me. I'm not ready to die yet, and I refuse to believe that dying at their hands is inevitable.
- So much is uncertain. What I do know is this: If I were to let fear dictate my choices, I would have faded into the anonymity of the Lowers streets long ago.
- Through it all, art is the answer. Half the time I can't find the words to express what has unfolded or how I feel about it, but with a paintbrush in hand, it all flows so simply.
- I never knew it was possible to love someone so fiercely and yet be so infuriated by them at the same time. So much of the time, he feels like home and safety and what is meant to be. But sometimes... sometimes our stubbornness gets in the way and we are like two forces of nature colliding.
- Trust. It's such a difficult, slippery thing. The act of solidifying trust with someone -- of sharing your innermost thoughts and desires and your darkest secrets, entrusting them to another's discretion -- it can be both terrifying and freeing.
- Sometimes I'm so reticent to share information that I end up having to carry the weight of a thing all on my own. I didn't realize how heavy it all felt until I finally shared my truth with someone I trust beyond words. I'm grateful we carry one another's secrets. I would follow her to the far reaches of the world and face whatever life throws at us.
- Wagner came by Rabble Art the other day and found me in the midst of an artistic block. Inspiration had fled, nothing would come to me. I felt like I was a bundle of anger and frustration. So we took pottery outside and smashed it against the wall, naming things that pissed us off. Some of the things Wagner named make me wonder, but I'll not pry. Wouldn't be right. I felt a mixture of emotions afterwards. Worse in some ways, but mostly better. It's good to have people who'll stand beside you and yell frustrations out into the world. People who care. People who matter.
- Who am I? The foul-mouthed, scrappy Lowers lass or the polite and erudite commoner or the frenzied, inspired artist? Friend. Foe. Lover. Sister. All. I am all of them in one. Layers upon layers, we are all made up of so many pieces. That's what makes life interesting, each of us possessing so much yet to be discovered.
- I will never stop looking over my shoulder, wondering if they're coming my way yet. I will never stop training. I will never stop attempting everything in my power to make myself stronger, smarter, faster in an attempt to evade these monsters that seek to destroy me. I'm not ready to die yet, and I refuse to believe that dying at their hands is inevitable.
Written By Thea
Jan. 14, 2024, 7:42 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
More changes are coming. Drake will be thrilled!
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.