Written By Savio
Nov. 12, 2021, 11:42 a.m.(7/20/1016 AR)
When you've acted wrongly, I'm here to let you know!
I have rebuke and lectures, ready to bestow
My censure and correction, my unasked-for advice
Get your house in order, and pay the social price
If you make a sorry misstep where everyone can see
I will be there to criticize, open and publicly
But when it's me who took a spill, with egg now on my face --
This is no time at all for blame, let's all show some grace.
I have rebuke and lectures, ready to bestow
My censure and correction, my unasked-for advice
Get your house in order, and pay the social price
If you make a sorry misstep where everyone can see
I will be there to criticize, open and publicly
But when it's me who took a spill, with egg now on my face --
This is no time at all for blame, let's all show some grace.
Written By Giada
Nov. 12, 2021, 10:36 a.m.(7/20/1016 AR)
How strange it is to find yourself on a new path.
When I moved to Arx, I was not even convinced that the gods were more than ideals. Now, I am sworn to them and have the honour of representing The Dark Reflection for the Faithful. Even so, this change happened in lockstep with the steady presence of business in my life.
This time, there is no comfort to be found as what was isn't what is. There is no reassurance in what I knew before, what I did before. How strange it is to know nothing.
Strange and thrilling.
When I moved to Arx, I was not even convinced that the gods were more than ideals. Now, I am sworn to them and have the honour of representing The Dark Reflection for the Faithful. Even so, this change happened in lockstep with the steady presence of business in my life.
This time, there is no comfort to be found as what was isn't what is. There is no reassurance in what I knew before, what I did before. How strange it is to know nothing.
Strange and thrilling.
Written By Sonnet
Nov. 11, 2021, 7:49 p.m.(7/19/1016 AR)
I DO NOT CACKLE. I AM A PROFESSIONAL. THAT IS ABSOLUTELY UNCALLED FOR.
Written By Tikva
Nov. 11, 2021, 6:33 p.m.(7/19/1016 AR)
You cannot crush me, for I am light as air
Borne up on voices, primed of song and prayer;
You cannot extinguish me, for I flow
as water in a river, unreachable by blows,
Liquid, reshaping my channel to the need
because I go where I will, wherever hearts heed;
You can't block my reach, for I grow from the root
Across unimaginable distance, each tiny new shoot;
You cannot defeat me, with vines twisting like rope
because I am unstoppable, unquenchable Hope.
Borne up on voices, primed of song and prayer;
You cannot extinguish me, for I flow
as water in a river, unreachable by blows,
Liquid, reshaping my channel to the need
because I go where I will, wherever hearts heed;
You can't block my reach, for I grow from the root
Across unimaginable distance, each tiny new shoot;
You cannot defeat me, with vines twisting like rope
because I am unstoppable, unquenchable Hope.
Written By Esme
Nov. 11, 2021, 6:11 p.m.(7/19/1016 AR)
It is getting closer.
Written By Corban
Nov. 11, 2021, 4 p.m.(7/19/1016 AR)
Relationship Note on Esme
A bet, I suppose, is a bet. And so let it be recorded here, before Vellichor, the many virtues of Lady Esme Fidante.
Lady Esme Fidante is a swifter and more-skilled rider than I, if only by a hair.
Lady Esme Fidante's beauty rivals that of the Whispers of the Compact.
Lady Esme Fidante is clever, as befits a child of the Lyceum.
Lady Esme Fidante is a fine riding companion.
And Lady Esme Fidante makes wagers that, when they break her way, a knight pays.
Lady Esme Fidante is a swifter and more-skilled rider than I, if only by a hair.
Lady Esme Fidante's beauty rivals that of the Whispers of the Compact.
Lady Esme Fidante is clever, as befits a child of the Lyceum.
Lady Esme Fidante is a fine riding companion.
And Lady Esme Fidante makes wagers that, when they break her way, a knight pays.
Written By Gio
Nov. 11, 2021, 2:44 p.m.(7/19/1016 AR)
Time in the Eastern Isles and the return leads only to temporary moments of relief. Pained by the return to the city and this talk of burning perfectly good gardens.
Written By Cesare
Nov. 11, 2021, 11:46 a.m.(7/18/1016 AR)
Some who have spoken to me at length will be aware that fear is not an emotion which comes to me easily. I'm uncertain why; it's hard to say if our nature is shaped by our souls, or by our experiences, or, as I suspect, by both. Regardless, it's a strange thing: in many circumstances it seems as though my mind has forgotten what it means to be trepidatious, and it's only in moments when the physical animal of my body reminds me that I am seized by it in a way which is inescapable and vital. All this to say, I was very afraid this week, for a few hours. And in those hours, I'm grateful that I knew where to turn: to those who care for me, and would remind me of the ideals I hold dear, which are those of hope, joy, perseverance, friendship.
I've found myself offering a strange counsel several times these past few days: to sit with the uncomfortable and unpleasant feelings. To accept them for what they are, and to know that they will pass, as all things do. It is a difficult time; the world feels fraught now in a way that brushes up against the minutiae of our lives, and each time it brushes, it is prone to scrape a little more off the comfort and complacence we've built up. Discomfort is naturally hard to tolerate.
I have been assured that the gods hear us when we speak to them. But rarely are they able to answer. And in the immediacy of the need for comfort, I think that what Gild's ideals would counsel is this: Seek those you care for. Show them your care, and let them care for you. We are none of us immune to frustration or despair, and it is a beautiful thing to show compassion. Often in my line of work, I am asked, "what can I do?" and - this is what you can do. Help to soothe the little hurts, to buoy the spirits of those around you. Hope is a discipline, one we all must work at.
I've found myself offering a strange counsel several times these past few days: to sit with the uncomfortable and unpleasant feelings. To accept them for what they are, and to know that they will pass, as all things do. It is a difficult time; the world feels fraught now in a way that brushes up against the minutiae of our lives, and each time it brushes, it is prone to scrape a little more off the comfort and complacence we've built up. Discomfort is naturally hard to tolerate.
I have been assured that the gods hear us when we speak to them. But rarely are they able to answer. And in the immediacy of the need for comfort, I think that what Gild's ideals would counsel is this: Seek those you care for. Show them your care, and let them care for you. We are none of us immune to frustration or despair, and it is a beautiful thing to show compassion. Often in my line of work, I am asked, "what can I do?" and - this is what you can do. Help to soothe the little hurts, to buoy the spirits of those around you. Hope is a discipline, one we all must work at.
Written By Avary
Nov. 11, 2021, 5:25 a.m.(7/18/1016 AR)
It occurred to me this evening that a Truth can be stated out of frustration and misunderstanding so that its -meaning- is twisted into something that is disparaging and not True.
This evening I took a constitutional with my Templar. It is a bit of a ritual for us. I am great company, as his friends in the barracks have undoubtedly heard, and Templar vie and plead to have me placed in their charge. (joke)
We walked to the Menagerie. I admit, I have not spent nearly as much time exploring there as I would have liked to when I was younger. We happened upon some people engaged in conversation about the events yesterday at Lagoma's Shrine.
In a moment of expressed defeatism, one of the conversationalists said, "Realize that sometimes the Pantheon do not always have the answers."
The words are of course True. The Pantheon does not propound to have "all the answers". The Faith is not in the business of proffering platitudes to stand as answers - let alone -all- the answers.
The Pantheon serves to guide and facilitate our Free Choice. Our ideals do not comprise "the answers" or even a "way". We, us individuals, choose our own way. The wisest of us takes guidance from the Pantheon, whose wisdom and light may help lead us in our Choices to answers - if answers are what we seek. We pray our steps will lead us toward what we aspire, harm not those we love and arrive us at the realization of our Dreams.
We are all part of the Dream and within it we have the free will to bring to reality what we each personally dream for ourselves. What the Pantheon provides is aspiration, ideals, a glimpse of what could be. Justice, Love, Mercy, Acceptance of Change, Dreams, Artistry, Introspection...these are vital if we are to live with the power of choice amongst others who also are unencumbered in making choices. Giving away "answers" is not part of the picture. The Gods are not here to pre-destine our lives and tells us where to step.
But while what was spoken was true, its sense was twisted. The speaker intended this statement of Truth to disparage the Pantheon for not having answers, and thereby suggesting that one should turn elsewhere, away from the Pantheon, to seek 'answers'.
It would be folly to turn away from our Faith because it gave not ready answers. Rather, one seeking answers and frustrated by the seeming lack thereof should turn more studiously and devoutly to the Pantheon, so that the Gods might alight their mind with the brightness to facilitate the seeking of answers for themselves.
Our responsibility for having Choice is great. If we wish to have it, we do well to take heed of the Pantheon and its wisdom. You can have your answers at the hard-won cost of making decisions for yourself. Decisions informed and guided by the light of the Gods undoubtedly arrive there quicker.
This evening I took a constitutional with my Templar. It is a bit of a ritual for us. I am great company, as his friends in the barracks have undoubtedly heard, and Templar vie and plead to have me placed in their charge. (joke)
We walked to the Menagerie. I admit, I have not spent nearly as much time exploring there as I would have liked to when I was younger. We happened upon some people engaged in conversation about the events yesterday at Lagoma's Shrine.
In a moment of expressed defeatism, one of the conversationalists said, "Realize that sometimes the Pantheon do not always have the answers."
The words are of course True. The Pantheon does not propound to have "all the answers". The Faith is not in the business of proffering platitudes to stand as answers - let alone -all- the answers.
The Pantheon serves to guide and facilitate our Free Choice. Our ideals do not comprise "the answers" or even a "way". We, us individuals, choose our own way. The wisest of us takes guidance from the Pantheon, whose wisdom and light may help lead us in our Choices to answers - if answers are what we seek. We pray our steps will lead us toward what we aspire, harm not those we love and arrive us at the realization of our Dreams.
We are all part of the Dream and within it we have the free will to bring to reality what we each personally dream for ourselves. What the Pantheon provides is aspiration, ideals, a glimpse of what could be. Justice, Love, Mercy, Acceptance of Change, Dreams, Artistry, Introspection...these are vital if we are to live with the power of choice amongst others who also are unencumbered in making choices. Giving away "answers" is not part of the picture. The Gods are not here to pre-destine our lives and tells us where to step.
But while what was spoken was true, its sense was twisted. The speaker intended this statement of Truth to disparage the Pantheon for not having answers, and thereby suggesting that one should turn elsewhere, away from the Pantheon, to seek 'answers'.
It would be folly to turn away from our Faith because it gave not ready answers. Rather, one seeking answers and frustrated by the seeming lack thereof should turn more studiously and devoutly to the Pantheon, so that the Gods might alight their mind with the brightness to facilitate the seeking of answers for themselves.
Our responsibility for having Choice is great. If we wish to have it, we do well to take heed of the Pantheon and its wisdom. You can have your answers at the hard-won cost of making decisions for yourself. Decisions informed and guided by the light of the Gods undoubtedly arrive there quicker.
Written By Baldessare
Nov. 11, 2021, 3:54 a.m.(7/18/1016 AR)
Whoever would have thought something wonderful could have emerged from such a trying day fraught with danger and horror? Certainly not I...
Written By Aureth
Nov. 11, 2021, 1:06 a.m.(7/17/1016 AR)
All things end, and each ending becomes a new beginning.
The Shrine of Lagoma may fall, consumed in vine, or flame, or arrogance, or whatever else you might name. But a shrine is a building. A building we protect, a holy building, consecrated and protected, embraced by holy ritual, Sanctuary and sanctum.
But Lagoma is an idea. She cannot be defeated by taking down a building. It is ludicrous to imagine you can defeat Lagoma by doing property damage.
It is easy to become discouraged, to feel hope shrink, to know the touch of despair upon your heart and to feel overwhelmed by the threats in the world. It seems a darker place now than it did when we were children.
But it is not. It's just that we are no longer children. We see it with new eyes and in clearer light.
If your heart sinks to see that the Shrine of Lagoma as you knew it is gone, think of what bright new change tomorrow will bring, and be glad.
The Shrine of Lagoma may fall, consumed in vine, or flame, or arrogance, or whatever else you might name. But a shrine is a building. A building we protect, a holy building, consecrated and protected, embraced by holy ritual, Sanctuary and sanctum.
But Lagoma is an idea. She cannot be defeated by taking down a building. It is ludicrous to imagine you can defeat Lagoma by doing property damage.
It is easy to become discouraged, to feel hope shrink, to know the touch of despair upon your heart and to feel overwhelmed by the threats in the world. It seems a darker place now than it did when we were children.
But it is not. It's just that we are no longer children. We see it with new eyes and in clearer light.
If your heart sinks to see that the Shrine of Lagoma as you knew it is gone, think of what bright new change tomorrow will bring, and be glad.
Written By Temira
Nov. 10, 2021, 7:35 p.m.(7/17/1016 AR)
Its sad thinking about all the children that get left behind in the aftermath of a battle. Hopefully some can be placed in good places to live, but I am sure that the scars left behind from it will never fade. I know all too well of those, but mine differ because I have my family still, so I can only understand to an extent.
Written By Bliss
Nov. 10, 2021, 12:04 p.m.(7/16/1016 AR)
Relationship Note on Roran
Are you fucking kidding me?
Written By Roran
Nov. 9, 2021, 6:07 p.m.(7/15/1016 AR)
I think the person who this is directed to can read these journals, he most likely has spies and agents here and there because that's what things that hide in the shadows have.
There's a man who's lost the way, lost his name, lost his soul, there is nothing redeemable about him. A deceiver to his very core, a man that forsakes the gods and the goodness they represent. A man who delights in shackling those who would otherwise be free because he himself is shackled to the darkness that's overtaken him. A man of zero honour who wears many masks to hide the dishonour that binds himself to evil.
Orichalcum, Horned God, whatever it is you're wanting to call yourself these days. You're a disease that threatens the body of which we're all part of, and the only remedy is to cut that diseased part off and cauterize the wound so the body is safe. The change you desire to bring about isn't following the teachings of Lagoma, you desire to usurp and bring about chaos so that you can try slipping in like a thief and take taking what isn't yours to take. How dare you!
You have no power over the Compact, it's a thing you cannot break. Crown of wood and tree, however? This can burn, it can shatter. The blight following you can be purged and purified through Lagoma.
You seem to be pretty smart and yet incredibly daft so here's another warning you can ignore. Wide is the road to ruin and narrow is the path to peace. You might have an army of bound servants that do terrible things in your name, but for every act you take you simply will inspire a free soul here in the Compact to stand up and fight against you.
I don't pity you, you chose your choices. I instead look to see you purged and a dire lesson to any following you.
There's a man who's lost the way, lost his name, lost his soul, there is nothing redeemable about him. A deceiver to his very core, a man that forsakes the gods and the goodness they represent. A man who delights in shackling those who would otherwise be free because he himself is shackled to the darkness that's overtaken him. A man of zero honour who wears many masks to hide the dishonour that binds himself to evil.
Orichalcum, Horned God, whatever it is you're wanting to call yourself these days. You're a disease that threatens the body of which we're all part of, and the only remedy is to cut that diseased part off and cauterize the wound so the body is safe. The change you desire to bring about isn't following the teachings of Lagoma, you desire to usurp and bring about chaos so that you can try slipping in like a thief and take taking what isn't yours to take. How dare you!
You have no power over the Compact, it's a thing you cannot break. Crown of wood and tree, however? This can burn, it can shatter. The blight following you can be purged and purified through Lagoma.
You seem to be pretty smart and yet incredibly daft so here's another warning you can ignore. Wide is the road to ruin and narrow is the path to peace. You might have an army of bound servants that do terrible things in your name, but for every act you take you simply will inspire a free soul here in the Compact to stand up and fight against you.
I don't pity you, you chose your choices. I instead look to see you purged and a dire lesson to any following you.
Written By Zakhar
Nov. 9, 2021, 3:30 p.m.(7/15/1016 AR)
When one collects a trop--- prisoner, they expect to be kept in the loop. Good to know that the nappies are still up to their old tricks.
Written By Caprice
Nov. 9, 2021, 10:44 a.m.(7/14/1016 AR)
Patronsday came and went with its usual flair, though my supplemental art walk wasn't as long as I had hoped it would be. I understand why the Gallery of Jayus spends all year planning for it, now, so I'll be better prepared next time!
Written By Canaan
Nov. 9, 2021, 10:30 a.m.(7/14/1016 AR)
I was fairly damn sure Jac was the only woman who could still surprise me but I guess I was wrong. Lucrezia Pravus? Certainly a surprise... Still fairly sure Jac is much more dangerous. In a fun way.
Written By Tanith
Nov. 9, 2021, 8 a.m.(7/14/1016 AR)
Oh no. Oh, Talia.
I called you cousin and kin, we are connected in unusual ways and your mysteries and troubles should have been solved. There was never enough time, was there? No. Never enough.
I'm sorry, cousin. I hope your puzzle finds its solution now that you've returned to the Wheel. Queen grant you comfort, sweet friend.
I called you cousin and kin, we are connected in unusual ways and your mysteries and troubles should have been solved. There was never enough time, was there? No. Never enough.
I'm sorry, cousin. I hope your puzzle finds its solution now that you've returned to the Wheel. Queen grant you comfort, sweet friend.
Written By Zakhar
Nov. 8, 2021, 9:09 p.m.(7/13/1016 AR)
Dearest Friends, Scholar Clive.
There's something unique about drowning. Unlike any other forms of loosing one's breath, to drown, is to know that eventually there will be pain and the pain won't go away easily. A sensation of knowing that air is there, just not available to you, that everyone else around you can swim to the surface, can find that last decent good gasp of air. A sweet refreshing rush of lungs opening up and breathing in good, clean, air.
To have your breath removed from you, without warning. There's a moment of panic that will set in. Even if you know what is happening, your mind will scream, beg, plead to have its way, to open the mouth and nose and drink deep of the not a liquid that air is. You start by trying to drink that which is forcing you down, there's too much. It's always too much, to drink without a chance to gulp at the air is death. Though you're going to try anyway.
Further down, sinking into the waters, light is slowly drifting away from you. Acceptance of the life you've lived, trying to gulp at the waters again as the body screams in a solid ache that it needs to drink, breathe, take a chance! Maybe this time it will be different. All sense of reason leaves the body and there you are, floating with a terrible headache as water begins to fill your lungs.
Oh, you're not dead yet. Why would it be that easy to be released? For a few minutes that will feel hours to pass, there's an involuntary gasping...
(The rest of the journal is missing pages, and Scholar Clive will insist that no one needs to know what the rest of what was said is truly needed to be know. Besides, the old man took them with him.)
There's something unique about drowning. Unlike any other forms of loosing one's breath, to drown, is to know that eventually there will be pain and the pain won't go away easily. A sensation of knowing that air is there, just not available to you, that everyone else around you can swim to the surface, can find that last decent good gasp of air. A sweet refreshing rush of lungs opening up and breathing in good, clean, air.
To have your breath removed from you, without warning. There's a moment of panic that will set in. Even if you know what is happening, your mind will scream, beg, plead to have its way, to open the mouth and nose and drink deep of the not a liquid that air is. You start by trying to drink that which is forcing you down, there's too much. It's always too much, to drink without a chance to gulp at the air is death. Though you're going to try anyway.
Further down, sinking into the waters, light is slowly drifting away from you. Acceptance of the life you've lived, trying to gulp at the waters again as the body screams in a solid ache that it needs to drink, breathe, take a chance! Maybe this time it will be different. All sense of reason leaves the body and there you are, floating with a terrible headache as water begins to fill your lungs.
Oh, you're not dead yet. Why would it be that easy to be released? For a few minutes that will feel hours to pass, there's an involuntary gasping...
(The rest of the journal is missing pages, and Scholar Clive will insist that no one needs to know what the rest of what was said is truly needed to be know. Besides, the old man took them with him.)
Written By Sydney
Nov. 8, 2021, 5:05 p.m.(7/13/1016 AR)
Another fire in the Lower Boroughs, another collective shrug of shoulders from those above.
Make no mistake - while my travels take me all about Arx and often beyond, I have not forgotten where I came from, and to see the general indifference towards this act is yet another stark reminder that as far as some are concerned, all people living within the city who took their oaths are of Arvum, but only some of us are seen as true citizens of Arx.
There is a gentle way to guide such people to realize that every death you hear about may well have been the death of your loved one. May well have been the death of nobility. May well have been the death of royalty. An attack on one of us ought to be an attack on all of us. This is a lesson that must be learned, and to that end, I implore you with all of my most sincere and heartfelt statecraft:
Pull your sharding heads out of your asses and protect your citizens equally.
Whether they are of a great house or are sworn to the crown, they are of Arx. That's supposed to mean something, and it's past time that was remembered.
If any financial assistance is required for the rebuilding and rehoming of any that were involved in this fire, pray send a messenger. I'll do what I can.
I don't forget.
Make no mistake - while my travels take me all about Arx and often beyond, I have not forgotten where I came from, and to see the general indifference towards this act is yet another stark reminder that as far as some are concerned, all people living within the city who took their oaths are of Arvum, but only some of us are seen as true citizens of Arx.
There is a gentle way to guide such people to realize that every death you hear about may well have been the death of your loved one. May well have been the death of nobility. May well have been the death of royalty. An attack on one of us ought to be an attack on all of us. This is a lesson that must be learned, and to that end, I implore you with all of my most sincere and heartfelt statecraft:
Pull your sharding heads out of your asses and protect your citizens equally.
Whether they are of a great house or are sworn to the crown, they are of Arx. That's supposed to mean something, and it's past time that was remembered.
If any financial assistance is required for the rebuilding and rehoming of any that were involved in this fire, pray send a messenger. I'll do what I can.
I don't forget.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.