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Written By Leola

March 30, 2017, 8:08 a.m.(3/7/1006 AR)

I continue to practice with the bow. His Highness, Prince Tristram has stated he is unable to offer any training until the siege is over; a shame, when there is a proliferation of targets and now, more than ever, we need to be ready.

The Crimson Seed lives up to her intent. She's a better bow than any I've handled, and truly worthy of a better archer than I.

Written By Silas

March 30, 2017, 3:43 a.m.(3/7/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Sparte

I don't think I'll be able to find a man more sincere than Sparte. He is a good man who doesn't pretend to be more than who he is, but he has plenty of potential to be much more than anyone expects. I genuinely look forward to what the future has in store for him and the Iron Guard couldn't ask for a better soldier.

Written By Cara

March 30, 2017, 2:09 a.m.(3/7/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Dafne

Sometimes, when you aren't quite looking, someone dear to you will grow up in remarkable and surprising ways. Duchess Dafne Zaffria is just younger enough than I that we were never quite in the same age group, not until very recently; also, she is so petite that it is literally likely that I'll overlook her purely due to my own ridiculous resemblance to a giraffe.

I am, though, very proud to call her 'cousin', and even more glad to call her friend.

Written By Ainsley

March 30, 2017, 12:56 a.m.(3/7/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Tikva

Lady Riven claims I am terrible, but make no mistake! She likes my terribleness.

Written By Fortunato

March 30, 2017, 12:03 a.m.(3/7/1006 AR)

Metaphors are a key part of an artist's toolset. Nearly as key as paint and paintbrush.

That said.

You can repurpose any given image to mean anything, which is far more perilous for religion than for art. Some cycles we should want to break and others are an essential aspect of our existence. The sun rises, the sun sets, cycle. We're born, we age, we die. Cycle. Abyssal hordes mass outside the gates, also cycle. Not terribly excited by that cycle either.

Of course cycles look like wheels and wheels look like cycles and I will be fascinated, fascinated to explore the intersection points between Death and life and repetition and change and rebirth, but I will let my brother tease out every iteration of the Wheel as he understands it first.

Written By Tikva

March 29, 2017, 11:59 p.m.(3/7/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Ainsley

As a sequel song to "Princess Ribbons," I bring you this:

Ainsley the Terrible
A man who’s incomparable
Whose jokes are maybe bearable
Except for some undeclarable
His sword arm undeterrable
His aim, so true, and shareable
I’m sure he’s quite preparable
for his life is quite the parable
to what may be repairable—
with all that stands against us
he’ll stand tall and unpretentious
for here’s a man to defend us
with courage here to lend us
It’s Ainsley the Terrible
His bravery unimpairable
His humor not so cerebral
These rhymes are quite chimerical
(This song’s a bit deplorable—)
The boy’s kind of adorable—
But my point is: absolutely terrible!

Written By Merek

March 29, 2017, 11:50 p.m.(3/7/1006 AR)

I don't often visit council meetings like this, but it was also open, and I felt that I could learn some. I was able to contribute and also gain some facts about the siege. It's nice to know that people are coordinating, and doing so well with it. I am not a war master, but I think that I can contribute, if I actually put some work towards that.

Written By Esoka

March 29, 2017, 11:42 p.m.(3/7/1006 AR)

The fight is a rush in my mind, but it always is. A blur of action, a mix of calculation and instinct that takes over my brain and muscles when the blade is in my hand.

The guardsman, Calaudrin, offering me whiskey one moment and calling out orders to man the walls and rain fire on the oncoming shavs the next. We were fortunate to have him. Quick, decisive orders are the difference between life and death in those moments.

The sight of the Bringer. The noble girl, who'd I'd have thought as no fit warrior, taking up a bow and doing her part. She, Dulcinea, killed the creature with me when it reached the walls. A fine way to earn your first blood, that.

They did not breach the walls. We did our part.

It was a small fight. And there will be many others to follow. Gods preserve me, I feel more a part of this city - this Compact - each time I bleed for it.

Written By Magpie

March 29, 2017, 10:02 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

If we don't want to break the wheel and we want to keep the Bringers away from the Pit... I have a new idea!

How about wheels made of the finest metals? They will be so strong that nothing can break them. Then we affix to a cart, throw the Bringers on it, and send them on their way...

No broken Wheels. No Bringers. So much winning.

Written By Calaudrin

March 29, 2017, 9:25 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

If I was a poetic man, I'd write a long entry about the two women I watched diving off of the ramparts to fight the bringer. It'd probably go something like "I, Calaudrin Estrades, watched as two beautiful, magnificent examples of womanhood dove off the ramparts. They sailed through the air with grace and agility! Their hair streamed behind them in glorious waves of-" Something. I don't know. What's a good romantic descriptor for dark hair?

At any rate, Lady Dulcinea and Dame Esoka killed that thing until it was dead. I was impressed.

I'm less impressed with the burn on my ankle, but that's what I get for playing with matches.

Written By Dulcinea

March 29, 2017, 8:40 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

Dear Me,

Riddle me this: When is a meeting of family members not a family meeting?

No idea? Good. Me neither.

I am so very put out.

Love and Other Rubbish,

Me

Written By Valery

March 29, 2017, 7:31 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

I was able to convince Master Gavin to stay at the Villa during the siege.
I prefer knowing he's safe. And he makes me feel safer.

I was asked to make a mirror mask. With umbra and stygian and shiny stones. I don't think I ever had so many expensive things in my hands. It was almost scary, the thought of spoiling it... But I think it ended up quite well.

I also went to the hospital and was helping with the wounded there. Well, I didn't help so much, I mostly listened and watched... I intend to go back, so I guess next time I'll be able to help more.
Lady Eirene was teaching me again, so at least I would be able to make myself useful.

Written By Serafine

March 29, 2017, 6:34 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

[It's noted the subject is 'in their cups', as they say, tipsy but not exactly drunk. And she's singing. Transcribing:]

Barkeep!
Another moonshine, please.
Yes of course, you can keep the change.
A new glass here, for this new friend of mine-
Forgive me, I forgot your name.

Flip a coin!
What shall we talk about?
Heads- I tell the truth,
tails? I lie.

I came all the way
from Southport today.
Now Sanctum's pouring rain
and I'm going blind again-

And I haven’t seen my girl
for fifteen thousand miles.

But is it true
it's always happy-hour here?
If it is I'd like to stay a while.
And as cliché as it may sound,
I'd like to raise another round,
And if you bottle’s empty
help yourself to mine.

Thank you for your time!
And here's to life..!

Barkeep!
We need to go around again.
One for me and what's-his-name,
my new best friend.

So deal me in
and I'll pick my cards up off the floor.
I'll see a lucky coin
and raise a pack of lies.

Smile to the man at the door,
another four-silver more.
But don't look him in the eyes,
he'll break your heart.

We came all the way
from Southport today.
Still Sanctum's pissin' rain
and we're going blind again
and I haven’t seen my girl
for fifteen thousand miles.

Is it true
it's always happy hour here?
If it is I'd like to stay a while.

Well as cliché as it may sound,
I'd like to raise another round.

And if you bottle’s empty,
help yourself to mine.
Thank you for your time,
And here's to life...!

[Subject kisses scholar's cheek, leaves a bottle of very clear, very potent liquor, leaves.]




(OOC: Adapted to Arx from 'Mekong', written by Brian David Blush and Roger Clyne)

Written By Eirene

March 29, 2017, 4:01 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Aleksei

So I presume that what Brother Aleksei wrote about the Wheel was in reference to me and my last White Journal.

Point of Clarification: I don't want to break the wheel that is the world. I want to break the cycle of humanity being screwed over by supernatural forces every 500 years or so.

Different thing - I want to save the world from having to do this OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

Written By Talen

March 29, 2017, 3:48 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Niccolo

Do you remember when I was thirteen and we road south of Lenosia, out of reach of the the walls and its gardens, to hunt boar?

I'd never seen a spear thrown so far as when you'd done it, yet I knew I could out-throw you. I did, of course, but that wasn't the point - I missed. It wasn't about power and throwing it far, it was about hitting your mark. You always knew how to utilise power to its best effect, rather than simply go wild with it. I think that's why we are where we are today despite our challenges.

We should hunt again, when this is all over.

Written By Talen

March 29, 2017, 3:44 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Inigo

You do a service to the Mirrorguard, Mirage.

Written By Joscelin

March 29, 2017, 2:09 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

Used some more of my personal stock to forge out a mask made of gold. I didn't use anyone as a reference, it was rather just ... tinkering with a few design ideas.

It's beautiful. There's an octopus at the temple with tentacles that trail out across the brow, over the nose, to clutch at a fish on the far cheek.

I didn't like it. I couldn't place my finger as to why for several hours. It wasn't until I was setting sapphires under the eyes of the mask that I realized what I'd done.

I'd made the mask in Ianthe's likeness.

I broke the gems I'd placed in it, popped every one of them out as fast as I could, and through the thing in my crucible, melting it down as fast as I could fan those coals.

I went to sleep later, much later, and dreamt of my little sister at the bottom of the ocean, lifeless eyes open, opaque, staring up, with an octopus on her temple, testing in her hair as it caught a fish over her far cheek.

It wasn't a vision, at least I don't think it was, but it wasn't a nightmare either. It was ... something.

Not to say it didn't bother the shit out of me, either. I woke up weeping before the sun came up, and pulled out my sketchbook to draw a bracelet, something to encapsulate a lock of her hair I've kept with me since her wandering nomad days. I have a few good designs; despite the dream, I know she loved the sea.

Oh, baby sister. I miss you.

Written By Aureth

March 29, 2017, 1:57 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

Relationship Note on Magpie

We really need to find Magpie a date. He's so lonely.

Written By Magpie

March 29, 2017, 1:24 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

Oh, sorry Aureth, my bad. I didn't think anyone actually read these.

Don't listen to me. Listen to Aureth. He knows what he's talking about. I'm just bored because my boat is broken.

Do NOT bring the Bringers to the Pit.
Take them out to dinner.
Take them for a romantic walk by the river, but whatever you do, don't bring them to the Pit.

Written By Ann

March 29, 2017, 12:42 p.m.(3/6/1006 AR)

Document the second:

1 giant of a man
2 very bad jokes
3 shots of whisky (cutting back)
4 shrines in sight
5 minutes of sleep

I'M FINE. JUST FINE. But I really ought to talk to the ground about staying where it is. Damned inconvenient.

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