Written By Titus
Jan. 3, 2024, 9:15 p.m.(6/27/1021 AR)
Many concerning issues, each capable of spilling out a terrible ending to everything:
- The Marin’alfar have been consumed.
- The Undying Empire dies.
- Cardia’s heart breaks.
- The Dune Kingdoms bleed.
- The Compact hangs in a precarious balance, ready to tip. When the Forgetful begin to remember, will the ideals they cling to feed and keep them?
- Choices removed and writs broken. Masters killed and others rise up to become what they replace.
- Magic revealed and yet people begin to lose who they are.
- The old being thrown out while clinging to the new. But there's no future without a past, there's no now without the journey of choices that had us arrive to today.
- Birds of a feather stick together, and the crows are going north. And in the night, the maw of darkness is growing as it consumes many brilliant points of light.
- A new constellation shining prominently, a giant sword upwards through a crown.
Change, just not in the way you thought it would be. Because how could you? Just like always.
- The Marin’alfar have been consumed.
- The Undying Empire dies.
- Cardia’s heart breaks.
- The Dune Kingdoms bleed.
- The Compact hangs in a precarious balance, ready to tip. When the Forgetful begin to remember, will the ideals they cling to feed and keep them?
- Choices removed and writs broken. Masters killed and others rise up to become what they replace.
- Magic revealed and yet people begin to lose who they are.
- The old being thrown out while clinging to the new. But there's no future without a past, there's no now without the journey of choices that had us arrive to today.
- Birds of a feather stick together, and the crows are going north. And in the night, the maw of darkness is growing as it consumes many brilliant points of light.
- A new constellation shining prominently, a giant sword upwards through a crown.
Change, just not in the way you thought it would be. Because how could you? Just like always.
Written By Aelgar
Jan. 3, 2024, 1:04 p.m.(6/26/1021 AR)
I am planning some fieldwork outside Arx with an interdisciplinary team from various Faith and secular groups. While I will probably be more support than front-line in the event of bandit encounters or other enemy conflicts, I will still appreciate the exercise and the chance to refine some field skills.
Written By Sydney
Jan. 3, 2024, 12:07 p.m.(6/26/1021 AR)
I can scarcely recognize the world around me, of late. So often I prayed for change, so often I gnashed my teeth at the stagnation of it all. Arvum is awash now in events that can no longer be easily denied, and to that end I do believe I got my wish, in a twisted sort of way.
My family, such as it is, is forever changed.
My name, such as it is, is forever changed.
This Dream, such as it is, is forever changed.
At times, I find myself wishing that I could go back to before this all was so, but to do that would be to deny all the good that has come as well. Change is never a quantifiable thing - what was good for me may have been disastrous for others. What was gutting to me may have set off a series of events that bring joy to an unknowable amount of people. Knowing that this is true, of course, doesn't mean that I'm always able to accept this. There will always be nights when, staring into the darkness, I'll wonder what it was all for. There will be despair, and there will be tears. My heart is not so hardened yet that I am utterly numb to self-doubt.
Strength is accepting those realities by daylight, and moving forward. Even a single step.
Time is in motion, after all, even if one chooses to stand still.
My family, such as it is, is forever changed.
My name, such as it is, is forever changed.
This Dream, such as it is, is forever changed.
At times, I find myself wishing that I could go back to before this all was so, but to do that would be to deny all the good that has come as well. Change is never a quantifiable thing - what was good for me may have been disastrous for others. What was gutting to me may have set off a series of events that bring joy to an unknowable amount of people. Knowing that this is true, of course, doesn't mean that I'm always able to accept this. There will always be nights when, staring into the darkness, I'll wonder what it was all for. There will be despair, and there will be tears. My heart is not so hardened yet that I am utterly numb to self-doubt.
Strength is accepting those realities by daylight, and moving forward. Even a single step.
Time is in motion, after all, even if one chooses to stand still.
Written By Denica
Jan. 3, 2024, 1:33 a.m.(6/25/1021 AR)
I made it through the storm only to find the hurricane inside of me.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 2, 2024, 6:28 p.m.(6/25/1021 AR)
It had been suggested that my medicinal skill would make me a candidate for the Mercies, but my heart had already drawn me to the service of the Mother of Beginnings as a Harlequin. I pursued membership with the Physicians Guild, instead, hoping for opportunities to continue to expand my knowledge and capability beyond midwifery and the standard care and keeping of people with sniffles and rashes and farming injuries. The experience I already had saw me rising up within the ranks quickly, though.
I'd set a meeting with the then-guildmistress, the late Marquessa-consort Reigna Keaton, to discuss the test that would be required of me for advancement. It was a gorgeous day. A quiet day, even, at the hospital. I hadn't expected to do the test; I was wearing a pretty dress with plans to go socializing after the meeting. But she had the time and I had the moxie - I've never been one to let what I was wearing stand in the way of providing needed care.
We were on the second patient when everything turned upside down. Screaming in the streets filtered in, and soon after, someone ran in claiming threats had been made against the dominus. Reigna and I grabbed bags of supplies and ran outside - I followed her through the chaos, past the shrines, across the Sovereign, and into the fray of people outside the barricaded Queensrest Inn. There were injuries to attend while others tried to get in. I was overwhelmed by the sounds, the jostling. It was my first time using my field medic training in a battlefield situation.
I hoped we wouldn't find what we did. But everyone knows this part of the story: Orazio Saik, Dominus of the Faith of the Pantheon, my beloved uncle, had been murdered.
The memories get confusing, coming in flashes and layers - like I'm remembering three things at once. People rushing up the stairs, a necklace, a flicker of light, blood under my knees, Aleksei Morgan. (I've never been able to separate Aleksei from that moment in my memory, and that's unfair. He genuinely seems to deserve a better moment to be associated with. I think there is a chance one will replace it.) All I could think was that I need to undo this, fix it, make it better. Do everything right.
I did none of those things. Not that it was within my power to. In truth? Looking back? I did a lot of things wrong. In my grief, I hurt people. And I continued to hurt people for a long time, after. My heart had been turned toward revenge.
It would take years for me to become a different sort of mercy.
I'd set a meeting with the then-guildmistress, the late Marquessa-consort Reigna Keaton, to discuss the test that would be required of me for advancement. It was a gorgeous day. A quiet day, even, at the hospital. I hadn't expected to do the test; I was wearing a pretty dress with plans to go socializing after the meeting. But she had the time and I had the moxie - I've never been one to let what I was wearing stand in the way of providing needed care.
We were on the second patient when everything turned upside down. Screaming in the streets filtered in, and soon after, someone ran in claiming threats had been made against the dominus. Reigna and I grabbed bags of supplies and ran outside - I followed her through the chaos, past the shrines, across the Sovereign, and into the fray of people outside the barricaded Queensrest Inn. There were injuries to attend while others tried to get in. I was overwhelmed by the sounds, the jostling. It was my first time using my field medic training in a battlefield situation.
I hoped we wouldn't find what we did. But everyone knows this part of the story: Orazio Saik, Dominus of the Faith of the Pantheon, my beloved uncle, had been murdered.
The memories get confusing, coming in flashes and layers - like I'm remembering three things at once. People rushing up the stairs, a necklace, a flicker of light, blood under my knees, Aleksei Morgan. (I've never been able to separate Aleksei from that moment in my memory, and that's unfair. He genuinely seems to deserve a better moment to be associated with. I think there is a chance one will replace it.) All I could think was that I need to undo this, fix it, make it better. Do everything right.
I did none of those things. Not that it was within my power to. In truth? Looking back? I did a lot of things wrong. In my grief, I hurt people. And I continued to hurt people for a long time, after. My heart had been turned toward revenge.
It would take years for me to become a different sort of mercy.
Written By Rosalind
Jan. 2, 2024, 4:23 p.m.(6/25/1021 AR)
So this is what peace feels like. What being unafraid feels like. I don't even know where to start or what to say...
But it's a new beginning for me in more ways than one. And I can't even begin to say thank my friends and family for never leaving me in the worst of days. Loving them isn't enough.
But it's a new beginning for me in more ways than one. And I can't even begin to say thank my friends and family for never leaving me in the worst of days. Loving them isn't enough.
Written By Hadrian
Jan. 2, 2024, 2:52 p.m.(6/24/1021 AR)
Just checked Damianos. The mark is still there. The future is bright indeed.
Written By Duarte
Jan. 2, 2024, 6:57 a.m.(6/24/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Oliver
Journal
Today I break the sequence of my narrative lest I forget and am remiss to immortalize to the white journals the deep appreciation I have for his talents and spirit.
Some months after the grand opening of Casino Crossroads, I commissioned Oliver Arterius, husband of Guildmaster Joscelin Arterius, to create two fine sculptures for the property.
Each was to stand as a shining symbol to the Gods they represented.
The first, a sculpture of wood, vellum, glass, ribbon and silk - 10 feet tall - depicting the sigil of Vellichor, our God of history and wisdom.
The second was of limestone, gold flaked, diamond dust and glitter - standing an impressive seven feet in height - the symbol of our Goddess of charity and civilization, Gild.
Both works stood upon the casino grounds for some years before I donated each to the Faith of the Pantheon, to stand in the shrines of the Gods they meant to honor. Indeed, the shrines are a more fitting home for these masterworks.
Oliver Arterius was a good man. He was a genius. Charitable and gregarious. His history and story of exiting thralldom to become a master in his chosen field and crafting a life that was truly his is one to be read and studied for inspiration. An unbroken spirit was he. To this day, I assert - most likely - remains unbroken.
And so, lest these are lost to time, I record them here in some detail.
*** Detailed sketches of Oliver Arterius's sculptures follow ***
a brilliantly shining sculpture of the sigil of Gild
,~xxXxx~,~xxxXxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxOxAxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxXxxx~,~xxXxx~,
Made from a base of hard and durable limestone, this
sculpture stands an impressive seven feet in height, a
reverent representation of the sigil of the Goddess Gild. The
sculpture is of two coins formed independently of one another.
The first coin is short and stout, the limestone painted a
stunning gold, the paints soaking through the textured stone
so that the colour is bright and full of depth. All around
the round edge of the coin is a trail of crushed gold-tinted
gemstones, giving the coin a natural glitter with or
without a source of light. The golden coin leans against a
taller, wider coin painted with several thick coats of silver.
Much like the gold coin, the rounded edges are rolled in
glistening diamond dust that casts a glistening luster across
the coin, bringing out the metallic colour of the paint.
Darker gray paint is used to create huge block lettering
along the backside of the silver coin:
IN CELEBRATION OF
PROSPERITY & CHARITY
,~xxXxx~,~xxxXxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxOxAxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxXxxx~,~xxXxx~,
an impressively large sculpture of the sigil of Vellichor
,~xxXxx~,~xxxXxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxOxAxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxXxxx~,~xxXxx~,
Made from strong and sturdy oak, this sculpture is impressive
in both width and height; at its tallest point, the sigil
rises to nearly ten feet. Masterfully carved into the shape
of a large tome, the wood has been weathered to give the book
an ancient, rippling sort of appearance. The tome lies open,
with actual thickly layered vellum spread upon the wood and
then overlayed with thin, clear glass for protection. Across
the vellum is inked writing in bold, blocky letters:
MAY WISDOM NOT GIVE WAY TO GREED
Laying above the words is an intricately carved feather
quill with a sharp point, delicately painted a rich and
vibrant crimson. Great time and attention to detail has been
taken to bring realism to the quill, the feathers subtly worn
to suggest use. Just beyond the tome are two raised
scrolls which bring true height to the sculpture, the wood
painted a yellowish cream to suggest age. The scrolls are
crossed and wrapped in thick ribbons sewn from navy blue
silk, the ribbon ends worn and frayed.
,~xxXxx~,~xxxXxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxOxAxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxXxxx~,~xxXxx~,
Today I break the sequence of my narrative lest I forget and am remiss to immortalize to the white journals the deep appreciation I have for his talents and spirit.
Some months after the grand opening of Casino Crossroads, I commissioned Oliver Arterius, husband of Guildmaster Joscelin Arterius, to create two fine sculptures for the property.
Each was to stand as a shining symbol to the Gods they represented.
The first, a sculpture of wood, vellum, glass, ribbon and silk - 10 feet tall - depicting the sigil of Vellichor, our God of history and wisdom.
The second was of limestone, gold flaked, diamond dust and glitter - standing an impressive seven feet in height - the symbol of our Goddess of charity and civilization, Gild.
Both works stood upon the casino grounds for some years before I donated each to the Faith of the Pantheon, to stand in the shrines of the Gods they meant to honor. Indeed, the shrines are a more fitting home for these masterworks.
Oliver Arterius was a good man. He was a genius. Charitable and gregarious. His history and story of exiting thralldom to become a master in his chosen field and crafting a life that was truly his is one to be read and studied for inspiration. An unbroken spirit was he. To this day, I assert - most likely - remains unbroken.
And so, lest these are lost to time, I record them here in some detail.
*** Detailed sketches of Oliver Arterius's sculptures follow ***
a brilliantly shining sculpture of the sigil of Gild
,~xxXxx~,~xxxXxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxOxAxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxXxxx~,~xxXxx~,
Made from a base of hard and durable limestone, this
sculpture stands an impressive seven feet in height, a
reverent representation of the sigil of the Goddess Gild. The
sculpture is of two coins formed independently of one another.
The first coin is short and stout, the limestone painted a
stunning gold, the paints soaking through the textured stone
so that the colour is bright and full of depth. All around
the round edge of the coin is a trail of crushed gold-tinted
gemstones, giving the coin a natural glitter with or
without a source of light. The golden coin leans against a
taller, wider coin painted with several thick coats of silver.
Much like the gold coin, the rounded edges are rolled in
glistening diamond dust that casts a glistening luster across
the coin, bringing out the metallic colour of the paint.
Darker gray paint is used to create huge block lettering
along the backside of the silver coin:
IN CELEBRATION OF
PROSPERITY & CHARITY
,~xxXxx~,~xxxXxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxOxAxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxXxxx~,~xxXxx~,
an impressively large sculpture of the sigil of Vellichor
,~xxXxx~,~xxxXxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxOxAxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxXxxx~,~xxXxx~,
Made from strong and sturdy oak, this sculpture is impressive
in both width and height; at its tallest point, the sigil
rises to nearly ten feet. Masterfully carved into the shape
of a large tome, the wood has been weathered to give the book
an ancient, rippling sort of appearance. The tome lies open,
with actual thickly layered vellum spread upon the wood and
then overlayed with thin, clear glass for protection. Across
the vellum is inked writing in bold, blocky letters:
MAY WISDOM NOT GIVE WAY TO GREED
Laying above the words is an intricately carved feather
quill with a sharp point, delicately painted a rich and
vibrant crimson. Great time and attention to detail has been
taken to bring realism to the quill, the feathers subtly worn
to suggest use. Just beyond the tome are two raised
scrolls which bring true height to the sculpture, the wood
painted a yellowish cream to suggest age. The scrolls are
crossed and wrapped in thick ribbons sewn from navy blue
silk, the ribbon ends worn and frayed.
,~xxXxx~,~xxxXxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxOxAxx~,~xxXXxx~,~xxXxxx~,~xxXxx~,
Written By Duarte
Jan. 1, 2024, 4:54 p.m.(6/23/1021 AR)
*Adhered to this page is a well loved scrap of paper stamped with the symbol of the Faith of the Pantheon*
Vellichor, in your enlightened name I, Bianca, pray:
Enlarge Duarte Amedeo's understanding of this world; Let him see it.
Steady him when he stands before the unknown; Let him know it.
Edify his mind, his heart, his wits; Let him remember it.
May he bend his knee and receive your truth;
Open his ears and receive your counsel;
Open his eyes and receive your words.
May he open his heart and receive your wisdom.
I beseech you, Vellichor, protect him with your insight.
Vellichor, in your enlightened name I, Bianca, pray:
Enlarge Duarte Amedeo's understanding of this world; Let him see it.
Steady him when he stands before the unknown; Let him know it.
Edify his mind, his heart, his wits; Let him remember it.
May he bend his knee and receive your truth;
Open his ears and receive your counsel;
Open his eyes and receive your words.
May he open his heart and receive your wisdom.
I beseech you, Vellichor, protect him with your insight.
Written By Fatima
Jan. 1, 2024, 9:44 a.m.(6/22/1021 AR)
The danger that lurks in the dark sands of Pyre grows ever stronger. As one great force wanes, others inevitably rise in its place. While we have labored to extinguish slavery, another danger has been quietly working in the shadows. It is a danger I and others of Eurus are all too familiar with.
It is not simply a matter that lies across the sea, that does not affect the Compact. Some have said, "Let us tend to our own garden. It is no concern of ours."
Yet, I am afraid that will not be possible. The wildfire has already begun to spread.
Again, I raise the call to arms - join with me! Let us fight together once more .
It is not simply a matter that lies across the sea, that does not affect the Compact. Some have said, "Let us tend to our own garden. It is no concern of ours."
Yet, I am afraid that will not be possible. The wildfire has already begun to spread.
Again, I raise the call to arms - join with me! Let us fight together once more .
Written By Duarte
Jan. 1, 2024, 6:29 a.m.(6/22/1021 AR)
Journal
How the Compact's forces repelled the Gyre from Setarco is a history well known, but not mine to tell. I hope that more stories from that bloody skirmish find their way to the White Journals in the coming weeks and months, as I know the superstitions that kept those stories from being heard are fading fast.
But there are a few, such as Count Vano Clearlake, Lord Kaldur Seliki (now known and departed as Duke-consort Kaldur Crovane), Prince Luca Grayson nee Velenosa (now departed), and the one who once called herself "Shard" (though I don't think she does anymore) wrote of it some, and these stories can be looked up.
I left Setarco relieved for the safety of my home and weeping for Stormwall (Duchess Ann Crovane, now Lady Ann Rivenshari, born Princess Ann Redrain, was a dear friend of mine at the time and had much sorrowful news).
I traveled back to Arx from Bravura, for I had taken the road across Setara to meet with Orland on matters of ministration before sailing back to the capital.
The Casino Crossroads was, by this time, complete with its construction - to whom I must thank Mirari Corsetina who led the effort. It was time to open!
The Grand Opening was a resounding success. Yes, it was a dazzling spectacle of risk, fortune, and indulgence. But for me, it was more than an entertainment venture. Crossroads was my enigmatic response to the haunting presence that loomed after me. The connection between my tormentor and Crossroads has remained my secret - a cryptic puzzle left for the astute or the mad. And history will dictate which I am.
Orathy Culler, my protege, held the keys and managed the casino with a keen eye. Crossroads thrived as a beacon of escapism in the uncertain tides of the Outrage. Yet for all its glitz and glamour, I could not shake the persistent shadow looming over me and I needed something to set my mind to.
It was fortuitous that a voice from the past emerged. Prince Laric Grayson, elevated to Master of Questions for his role in unseating Shreve, requested help. His task to me was to investigate the origin and history of a herald of the abyss - one we now know as, and openly refer to as, Orichalcum.
It was a welcome diversion, but the investigation twisted into paths unseen. True, I did uncover some, but nothing world-shattering or unknown. But it wasn't long after that my path of study drew me into lore concerning exorcism and locales known as 'shardhavens' - places where corruption has taken deep root and abyssal monsters are free to hatch and grow. One shardhaven in particular, known simply as 'halfway house', was of recurring mention in my research.
The more I tried to veer my findings in the direction of Orichalcum, the more they veered back to the halfway house as if guided by some unseen hand. Knowledge would fall into my lap, unsolicited yet strangely fitting. But it wasn't aligned to the task I was setting upon and the frustration mounted to no end.
My service to Shreve, my ascent to nobility, my return to an indifferent Arx, my growing distance to Lianne - it all contributed to a sense of disconnection. The near-death experience with the Eater of Stories, and the erasure of crucial memories compounded my despondency. And now, the failure to unearth truly useful information for Prince Laric drove me to despair.
In desperation, I did a thing I had never done - or even considered. I sought solace in an unlikely place - the Shrine of Vellichor - at the urging of then Legate Orazio.
Kneeling in the benches clutching a scrap of paper penned by Archscholar Bianca, I began a long prayer and held vigil. I simply let my mind wander without expectation. It seemed feeble - like an attempt to grasp at straws - but in my dejection, I clung to it.
As I prayed, my thoughts meandered through the maze of my past. The choices and the intrigue, the winding paths that had defined me. I wondered if Vellichor would indeed enlighten something within me, provide truth and counsel. Would he protect me with his insight? It was a faint, flickering hope.
Yet, there, in the quiet of the shrine, something stirred within me.
Unbidden, my mind wandered back to the halfway house. The vision of it took hold - vivid and indescribable. The absurdity of it was palpable. The stray thought, "What would such a house even look like?" gave way to a profound picture. I could see it: covered in vines, mold, and creeping things. It was blight itself that had claimed it and festered over its very essence.
But then, I saw more. A library overrun by worms with cherished books devoured and gone. A tree that once was beautiful with life was now twisted into a grotesque and terrifying form. There was a hill, barren and silent where nothing grew and no sound would ring.
With each passing second the visions multiplied. I saw not just one, but many shardhavens. Each of them was unique in its desolation. Each harbored secrets and knowledge lost and corrupted. They were prisons of forgotten lore beckoning the brave to seek what had been lost within their forsaken walls.
There goes a saying, 'Ten Thousand Shardhavens'. And in that surreal moment, I could swear I saw them all. It was an overwhelming cascade of images and sensation. Could I describe them now? No. But like a dream lost to time, I would know them if I saw them. And though I knew each one needed cleansing, what was required was a search for what had been lost.
As slow as it came, so it receded. I found myself still in the shrine and clutching my paper. I was changed with an experience that had imprinted itself on my soul with a new, daunting purpose. I knew the future that lay before me would be inextricably intertwined with these perilous places.
I rose from my vigil a very religious man.
How the Compact's forces repelled the Gyre from Setarco is a history well known, but not mine to tell. I hope that more stories from that bloody skirmish find their way to the White Journals in the coming weeks and months, as I know the superstitions that kept those stories from being heard are fading fast.
But there are a few, such as Count Vano Clearlake, Lord Kaldur Seliki (now known and departed as Duke-consort Kaldur Crovane), Prince Luca Grayson nee Velenosa (now departed), and the one who once called herself "Shard" (though I don't think she does anymore) wrote of it some, and these stories can be looked up.
I left Setarco relieved for the safety of my home and weeping for Stormwall (Duchess Ann Crovane, now Lady Ann Rivenshari, born Princess Ann Redrain, was a dear friend of mine at the time and had much sorrowful news).
I traveled back to Arx from Bravura, for I had taken the road across Setara to meet with Orland on matters of ministration before sailing back to the capital.
The Casino Crossroads was, by this time, complete with its construction - to whom I must thank Mirari Corsetina who led the effort. It was time to open!
The Grand Opening was a resounding success. Yes, it was a dazzling spectacle of risk, fortune, and indulgence. But for me, it was more than an entertainment venture. Crossroads was my enigmatic response to the haunting presence that loomed after me. The connection between my tormentor and Crossroads has remained my secret - a cryptic puzzle left for the astute or the mad. And history will dictate which I am.
Orathy Culler, my protege, held the keys and managed the casino with a keen eye. Crossroads thrived as a beacon of escapism in the uncertain tides of the Outrage. Yet for all its glitz and glamour, I could not shake the persistent shadow looming over me and I needed something to set my mind to.
It was fortuitous that a voice from the past emerged. Prince Laric Grayson, elevated to Master of Questions for his role in unseating Shreve, requested help. His task to me was to investigate the origin and history of a herald of the abyss - one we now know as, and openly refer to as, Orichalcum.
It was a welcome diversion, but the investigation twisted into paths unseen. True, I did uncover some, but nothing world-shattering or unknown. But it wasn't long after that my path of study drew me into lore concerning exorcism and locales known as 'shardhavens' - places where corruption has taken deep root and abyssal monsters are free to hatch and grow. One shardhaven in particular, known simply as 'halfway house', was of recurring mention in my research.
The more I tried to veer my findings in the direction of Orichalcum, the more they veered back to the halfway house as if guided by some unseen hand. Knowledge would fall into my lap, unsolicited yet strangely fitting. But it wasn't aligned to the task I was setting upon and the frustration mounted to no end.
My service to Shreve, my ascent to nobility, my return to an indifferent Arx, my growing distance to Lianne - it all contributed to a sense of disconnection. The near-death experience with the Eater of Stories, and the erasure of crucial memories compounded my despondency. And now, the failure to unearth truly useful information for Prince Laric drove me to despair.
In desperation, I did a thing I had never done - or even considered. I sought solace in an unlikely place - the Shrine of Vellichor - at the urging of then Legate Orazio.
Kneeling in the benches clutching a scrap of paper penned by Archscholar Bianca, I began a long prayer and held vigil. I simply let my mind wander without expectation. It seemed feeble - like an attempt to grasp at straws - but in my dejection, I clung to it.
As I prayed, my thoughts meandered through the maze of my past. The choices and the intrigue, the winding paths that had defined me. I wondered if Vellichor would indeed enlighten something within me, provide truth and counsel. Would he protect me with his insight? It was a faint, flickering hope.
Yet, there, in the quiet of the shrine, something stirred within me.
Unbidden, my mind wandered back to the halfway house. The vision of it took hold - vivid and indescribable. The absurdity of it was palpable. The stray thought, "What would such a house even look like?" gave way to a profound picture. I could see it: covered in vines, mold, and creeping things. It was blight itself that had claimed it and festered over its very essence.
But then, I saw more. A library overrun by worms with cherished books devoured and gone. A tree that once was beautiful with life was now twisted into a grotesque and terrifying form. There was a hill, barren and silent where nothing grew and no sound would ring.
With each passing second the visions multiplied. I saw not just one, but many shardhavens. Each of them was unique in its desolation. Each harbored secrets and knowledge lost and corrupted. They were prisons of forgotten lore beckoning the brave to seek what had been lost within their forsaken walls.
There goes a saying, 'Ten Thousand Shardhavens'. And in that surreal moment, I could swear I saw them all. It was an overwhelming cascade of images and sensation. Could I describe them now? No. But like a dream lost to time, I would know them if I saw them. And though I knew each one needed cleansing, what was required was a search for what had been lost.
As slow as it came, so it receded. I found myself still in the shrine and clutching my paper. I was changed with an experience that had imprinted itself on my soul with a new, daunting purpose. I knew the future that lay before me would be inextricably intertwined with these perilous places.
I rose from my vigil a very religious man.
Written By Lianne
Dec. 31, 2023, 10:33 p.m.(6/21/1021 AR)
The work does not end. The odds do not tip in our favor. There is no light on the horizon.
There is only work to be done, the outcome ever unknown.
We persevere.
There is only work to be done, the outcome ever unknown.
We persevere.
Written By Lianne
Dec. 31, 2023, 10:26 p.m.(6/21/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Jeffeth
Lady Jan does have a remarkable talent for descriptive language.
I'm grateful. Both for her fervor and for your aid.
I'm grateful. Both for her fervor and for your aid.
Written By Jan
Dec. 31, 2023, 10:20 p.m.(6/21/1021 AR)
There is so much going on it's hard to know fact from gossip
Written By Raymesin
Dec. 31, 2023, 9:10 p.m.(6/21/1021 AR)
So many people, Scholar, trying to move so fast. The pace of change is dizzying. And yet I'm not sure we're moving fast enough. Everything changes but everything's changing, and we must all brace the shutters against the coming storm.
Written By Mortimer
Dec. 31, 2023, 6:33 p.m.(6/21/1021 AR)
The kite event at the Lodge of Petrichor was interesting. Making the kite was far more my bailiwick than flying it - such is what a little silver to darling little children is for - but it was enjoyable enough.
I'm left wondering what it is that the Nox'alfar have want of kites for, though.
Maybe I should send a messenger to them, and see if they'd like to buy some more. Hmm.
I'm left wondering what it is that the Nox'alfar have want of kites for, though.
Maybe I should send a messenger to them, and see if they'd like to buy some more. Hmm.
Written By Raven
Dec. 31, 2023, 6:28 p.m.(6/21/1021 AR)
I'd like to thank all those who challenge me to do better. Or at least to improve my skill if not my person.
Written By Ida
Dec. 31, 2023, 6:23 p.m.(6/21/1021 AR)
A sunset offers my favorite colors. Not as it is setting, but when it's been down for a bit and the world is near dark. There's a soft, deep orange along the horizon that bleeds into a pale gray-blue, which seems near impossible and like they shouldn't blend as perfectly as they do. Looking farther up the horizon, that color goes to a darker gray-blue, and then a purplish color where hints of stars start to make their appearance. It's a sight to behold and one that I will never tire of.
Written By Tamsin
Dec. 31, 2023, 5:16 p.m.(6/21/1021 AR)
For the record, when I die, I would like to be placed in the Catacombs beneath Arx with my arms and armor so my service to the Queen of Endings and Beginnings may continue. She'll ask no more of me than I'm capable of giving.
Written By Valencia
Dec. 31, 2023, 4:41 p.m.(6/21/1021 AR)
I am so excited. Our dream to expand the Golden Hart to cities across the Compact is quickly becoming a reality.
The hope and plan was simple but ambitious. To create welcoming places and spaces to help communities improve and achieve their dreams by establishing at least one Hart for each house across the realm to allow each unique community a chance to make the world a better place for themselves and others.
Bringing people together to do great things, inspiring and raising people's spirits, and building support for local community projects, good causes and those in need is my deepest desire and dream.
I want to see all in Avrum and beyond rise, thrive and succeed as much as possible -- now and well into the future.
If the Golden Hart can make a difference in this way, then we are very happy to do so. I, for one, cannot wait to see all the local projects and positive changes that will help our people and many communities blossom and grow as they come into fruition!
I hope more houses and communities reach out and accept our invitation. The more the merrier. For you can never have enough Hart.
~~~~~~~~~~~<~<~(@
The hope and plan was simple but ambitious. To create welcoming places and spaces to help communities improve and achieve their dreams by establishing at least one Hart for each house across the realm to allow each unique community a chance to make the world a better place for themselves and others.
Bringing people together to do great things, inspiring and raising people's spirits, and building support for local community projects, good causes and those in need is my deepest desire and dream.
I want to see all in Avrum and beyond rise, thrive and succeed as much as possible -- now and well into the future.
If the Golden Hart can make a difference in this way, then we are very happy to do so. I, for one, cannot wait to see all the local projects and positive changes that will help our people and many communities blossom and grow as they come into fruition!
I hope more houses and communities reach out and accept our invitation. The more the merrier. For you can never have enough Hart.
~~~~~~~~~~~<~<~(@
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