Written By Leona
Feb. 15, 2017, 1:22 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Gabriel
A serious man, he just led a successful campaign against the Bringers of Silence. He did not stop them in entirety - it will take more than his forces to do that - but his forces survived the first engagement, at least. He is a good man, dedicated to the defense of Arx and Arvum, and now more than ever I think his steady, serious hand is both necessary and wise. Let us hope that some of the issues he faces are resolved, and soon.
Written By Juliet
Feb. 15, 2017, 1:07 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Nadia
Life makes fools of us all. We were so busy, darling.
But we found time, didn't we? At last.
I didn't know then, it would be goodbye.
But I'll cherish the memory.
They said you died bravely, defending your forces. Defending our lands.
They said your hair was pristine.
Good.
But we found time, didn't we? At last.
I didn't know then, it would be goodbye.
But I'll cherish the memory.
They said you died bravely, defending your forces. Defending our lands.
They said your hair was pristine.
Good.
Written By Freja
Feb. 15, 2017, 12:47 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Nadia
We may have not always seen eye to eye, but a soldier's death is an honorable one. May the Spirits keep and guide you, Duchess.
Written By Freja
Feb. 15, 2017, 12:25 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
-Gray Forest Ghost and Battle of Pridehall-
I've been 'instructed' that I am to keep a better record of things, at least martially speaking.
A few weeks prior to the Battle of Pridehall - left while the city slept, albeit bruised and bearing marks from a previous day/night of rigorous training. Saddle sore has a whole new meaning to me now.
I took the paths skirting the mountains, up towards Whitehold, pushing up into the Northern snows and then back down again to press any remaining Shavs out of hiding from that direction.
Well, I found myself playing the cat and mouse games I earned a reputation for back home in the North.
I had picked off dozens of their sentries before a force of two thousand shavs was sent to search for me.
Two. Thousand.
Sadly, or rather hilariously, it was ineffective and they only ever found the bodies - some of them cheekily arranged around a stump as if at a game of dice. A gal has to get her kicks while freezing her ass off, doesn't she? Apparently, they have taken to calling me the Ghost of the Gray Forest for this, ha! Scout of the Snows, Gray Forest Ghost? I wonder what other monikers I can collect in varying territories.
When that business was done, the two thousand shav force distracted and broken off from the main contingent, we moved to join the Battle of Pridehall. We kept to the outskirts, picking off the wanderers and those trying to creep up on the lines.
When the hammer of the Oathlands and Thraxians hit from the rear, we joined in the Redrain force that hit from the north.
The snow has thawed, and how grand it feels to have direction again.
I've been 'instructed' that I am to keep a better record of things, at least martially speaking.
A few weeks prior to the Battle of Pridehall - left while the city slept, albeit bruised and bearing marks from a previous day/night of rigorous training. Saddle sore has a whole new meaning to me now.
I took the paths skirting the mountains, up towards Whitehold, pushing up into the Northern snows and then back down again to press any remaining Shavs out of hiding from that direction.
Well, I found myself playing the cat and mouse games I earned a reputation for back home in the North.
I had picked off dozens of their sentries before a force of two thousand shavs was sent to search for me.
Two. Thousand.
Sadly, or rather hilariously, it was ineffective and they only ever found the bodies - some of them cheekily arranged around a stump as if at a game of dice. A gal has to get her kicks while freezing her ass off, doesn't she? Apparently, they have taken to calling me the Ghost of the Gray Forest for this, ha! Scout of the Snows, Gray Forest Ghost? I wonder what other monikers I can collect in varying territories.
When that business was done, the two thousand shav force distracted and broken off from the main contingent, we moved to join the Battle of Pridehall. We kept to the outskirts, picking off the wanderers and those trying to creep up on the lines.
When the hammer of the Oathlands and Thraxians hit from the rear, we joined in the Redrain force that hit from the north.
The snow has thawed, and how grand it feels to have direction again.
Written By Max
Feb. 15, 2017, 11:35 a.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Nadia was my friend.
I will miss her.
Tears in our wakes.
Never at our wakes.
I will miss her.
Tears in our wakes.
Never at our wakes.
Written By Reese
Feb. 15, 2017, 11:13 a.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
I fought in the latest battle.
I lead a charge that went well.
I survived.
Nadia of the rose-gold did not.
I don't have a dress for her funeral.
But Lord Rook said he would find me one.
I wil miss her.
We will miss her.
Compact will miss her.
I wish there was no memorials.
I wish she lived.
But she did not.
And we must continue on.
The Bringers are coming.
I lead a charge that went well.
I survived.
Nadia of the rose-gold did not.
I don't have a dress for her funeral.
But Lord Rook said he would find me one.
I wil miss her.
We will miss her.
Compact will miss her.
I wish there was no memorials.
I wish she lived.
But she did not.
And we must continue on.
The Bringers are coming.
Written By Lydia
Feb. 15, 2017, 10:36 a.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Nadia
I left one world and came back to another.
I left Arx a few days ago with a band of other Northerners to try to treat with the Shavs and win us new allies in the desperate fight that we now find ourselves in. I had little that I was authorized to give them at that point, but still, the negotiations went well. I turned back to Arx with a hopeful heart at what might come in another round of negotiations or two.
My hopes, however, were dashed as soon as I entered the city gates and found myself ambushed by messengers all bearing the distressing news of my sister's death. I wish I could write of the feelings in my heart, I cannot. They are too complex and are opaque even to me. I cannot sort through them, I just know that I cannot smile and I cannot feel any levity, and the house feels hollow and empty whenever I walk through its front door.
I left Arx a few days ago with a band of other Northerners to try to treat with the Shavs and win us new allies in the desperate fight that we now find ourselves in. I had little that I was authorized to give them at that point, but still, the negotiations went well. I turned back to Arx with a hopeful heart at what might come in another round of negotiations or two.
My hopes, however, were dashed as soon as I entered the city gates and found myself ambushed by messengers all bearing the distressing news of my sister's death. I wish I could write of the feelings in my heart, I cannot. They are too complex and are opaque even to me. I cannot sort through them, I just know that I cannot smile and I cannot feel any levity, and the house feels hollow and empty whenever I walk through its front door.
Written By Halsim
Feb. 15, 2017, 6:43 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
It's strange.
You'd think that whatever process turns those things that attacked us in Pridehall would make them more or less the same.
Yet when I examined the bodies, both the horde and the Bringers themselves were in various states or living or dead.
Half that army was living, and half of it was dead, when it attacked us. Why?
You'd think that whatever process turns those things that attacked us in Pridehall would make them more or less the same.
Yet when I examined the bodies, both the horde and the Bringers themselves were in various states or living or dead.
Half that army was living, and half of it was dead, when it attacked us. Why?
Written By Max
Feb. 15, 2017, 6:41 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
Yes. I was in the Battle of Pride Hall.
Yes. I fought.
No. I did not bring down a bringer this time. My role in this battle was not frontline combat.
The military of the Darkwater are rarely frontline combat. We are a raiding force, a scouting force.
We do not wear the heavy armor and we do not sail the heavy ships. Some ships, like my Flag, the Damnation, are bigger and stronger by design, but most of our ships are light and easy, made for fast transit and hitting quick. Our men are the same.
Someone asked me what it was I did, if I wasn't on the front line. I didn't answer him. Not directly. I was not sure I could choke the frustration out of my voice and not end up beating the man senseless.
But here, I will explain what Darkwater did for Greyson and Pridehall. What we did, and continue to do, for the Compact.
My forces are scouts. Fast scouts. Riverine and forest, we know how to move and what we are looking for. Our scouts on the rivers found the camps and marching trails the Shavs were using. We found them early, nearly a week before the Battle of Pridehall. We found them much further west and... much farther past Bastion than expected. This in turn allowed the Ignisari to investigate in force, and as many know, their actions lead to the main battle.
Darkwater Forces did their part, in locating our enemy and denying them the chance to fully flank us, to give our forces the chance to respond and take the aggressive initiative. But songs do not get sung of brave scouts or spies.
When the scouting was done, what did Darkwater do then?
Darkwater did what Darkwater does. This is where Black Mountain came in. Black Mountain moves on Darkwater Ships for the most part. We took action, good action. We had stockpiled goods for the battle and we ran ship after ship after ship after ship of supplies to Pride Hall.
The leather strap that you needed replaced so that your breastplate did not come off? Came on a Darkwater Ship.
The stew in your bowl that kept your belly fed? Came on a Darkwater ship.
The shovel you dug the latrine with to keep your camp from disease? Came on a Darkwater ship.
The food and resources needed to keep a force of 40,000 men supplied, armed, fed and fighting?
They came on Darkwater ships.
Swords win battles. Logistics wins wars.
Darkwater, Black Mountain. We fight for the Compact.
- Maximilian Darkwater.
Yes. I fought.
No. I did not bring down a bringer this time. My role in this battle was not frontline combat.
The military of the Darkwater are rarely frontline combat. We are a raiding force, a scouting force.
We do not wear the heavy armor and we do not sail the heavy ships. Some ships, like my Flag, the Damnation, are bigger and stronger by design, but most of our ships are light and easy, made for fast transit and hitting quick. Our men are the same.
Someone asked me what it was I did, if I wasn't on the front line. I didn't answer him. Not directly. I was not sure I could choke the frustration out of my voice and not end up beating the man senseless.
But here, I will explain what Darkwater did for Greyson and Pridehall. What we did, and continue to do, for the Compact.
My forces are scouts. Fast scouts. Riverine and forest, we know how to move and what we are looking for. Our scouts on the rivers found the camps and marching trails the Shavs were using. We found them early, nearly a week before the Battle of Pridehall. We found them much further west and... much farther past Bastion than expected. This in turn allowed the Ignisari to investigate in force, and as many know, their actions lead to the main battle.
Darkwater Forces did their part, in locating our enemy and denying them the chance to fully flank us, to give our forces the chance to respond and take the aggressive initiative. But songs do not get sung of brave scouts or spies.
When the scouting was done, what did Darkwater do then?
Darkwater did what Darkwater does. This is where Black Mountain came in. Black Mountain moves on Darkwater Ships for the most part. We took action, good action. We had stockpiled goods for the battle and we ran ship after ship after ship after ship of supplies to Pride Hall.
The leather strap that you needed replaced so that your breastplate did not come off? Came on a Darkwater Ship.
The stew in your bowl that kept your belly fed? Came on a Darkwater ship.
The shovel you dug the latrine with to keep your camp from disease? Came on a Darkwater ship.
The food and resources needed to keep a force of 40,000 men supplied, armed, fed and fighting?
They came on Darkwater ships.
Swords win battles. Logistics wins wars.
Darkwater, Black Mountain. We fight for the Compact.
- Maximilian Darkwater.
Written By Dominic
Feb. 15, 2017, 2:06 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
I had five thralls when I was doing my house business. Now I have five less. If you are going to use my own people to spy on me expect them to pay the price.
Written By Harald
Feb. 15, 2017, 1:57 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
It is the nature of folk to mourn the deaths of those known to them. As this unfolding conflict takes shape as the greatest conflict for centuries, much perspective has been lost.
The outcome of the recent Battle of Pridehall, like the prior ambush and destruction of the traitors under Everard Telmar, was never in doubt. Our numbers were double that of the Enemy, our warriors better armed and disciplined; no brilliance was needed to simply secure victory. The great triumph of Pridehall was not that the army of the Compact prevailed, but that it did so at such light cost. Time and again, I have heard others speak of the terrible cost of this victory, when to my eye the price was light. Two thousand lost out of 40,000. One warrior lost out of twenty may seem significant, until one considers the losses of the Enemy, which amounted to a total destruction of near twenty thousand.
At Pridehall, it was not a question of victory or defeat, it was a question of how clean a victory could be won. Soon it will be we who face greater numbers; soon victory will not be assured, and will not be won lightly. Soon we will face foemen of such power and number that our victory will be worthy of song and saga.
To those gentle souls who have dwelt in peace until now, mourn the loss of those you knew and take solace from their sacrifice, but do not weary your hearts with great laments, lest your hearts grow weak in the face of the trials ahead. The losses seen thus far are but the first drops in the growing storm still to come, and great strength will be needed to see that storm broken.
I salute the fallen and I salute the living. I recall the past and ready for the future. I drink to the battles before, and those yet to come.
The words of House Thrax are true in this hour: Tears in our wake, never at our wake.
The outcome of the recent Battle of Pridehall, like the prior ambush and destruction of the traitors under Everard Telmar, was never in doubt. Our numbers were double that of the Enemy, our warriors better armed and disciplined; no brilliance was needed to simply secure victory. The great triumph of Pridehall was not that the army of the Compact prevailed, but that it did so at such light cost. Time and again, I have heard others speak of the terrible cost of this victory, when to my eye the price was light. Two thousand lost out of 40,000. One warrior lost out of twenty may seem significant, until one considers the losses of the Enemy, which amounted to a total destruction of near twenty thousand.
At Pridehall, it was not a question of victory or defeat, it was a question of how clean a victory could be won. Soon it will be we who face greater numbers; soon victory will not be assured, and will not be won lightly. Soon we will face foemen of such power and number that our victory will be worthy of song and saga.
To those gentle souls who have dwelt in peace until now, mourn the loss of those you knew and take solace from their sacrifice, but do not weary your hearts with great laments, lest your hearts grow weak in the face of the trials ahead. The losses seen thus far are but the first drops in the growing storm still to come, and great strength will be needed to see that storm broken.
I salute the fallen and I salute the living. I recall the past and ready for the future. I drink to the battles before, and those yet to come.
The words of House Thrax are true in this hour: Tears in our wake, never at our wake.
Written By Calypso
Feb. 15, 2017, 1:48 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
Malvici Family Dinner.
I always wonder if everyone else's family dinner's are as entertaining as ours. I don't know how I got so lucky to be born in to this lot of hard working, fiercely protective, endlessly entertaining individuals.
I'll have to slip the house servants a couple extra silver this week. Worth it.
I always wonder if everyone else's family dinner's are as entertaining as ours. I don't know how I got so lucky to be born in to this lot of hard working, fiercely protective, endlessly entertaining individuals.
I'll have to slip the house servants a couple extra silver this week. Worth it.
Written By Orathy
Feb. 15, 2017, 12:36 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Lyiana
Until the it gets Night in the Day...
I watched you, hard at work, pursued and hounded by those more wealthy than you, but who came to you, asking for your services. You're good at what you do, and it wasn't long after you made me a shirt and pant, which I didn't expect to get, that I knew you were too good for me. My service to fix a shelf was nothing compared to the shirt and pant you fashioned for me.
But I said I wasn't a good man but I would try to do good by you. So I will. I do wonder what you truly think...
I think, there's something about you that makes me want to be a good... man.
You make me think of ... some words....
What used to be a house of cards, has turned into a reservoir, save the tears that were water falling, let's go swim tonight, darling. And once outside the undertow, just you and me, and nothing more. If not for love, I would be drowning, I've seen it work both ways, but I am up riding high amongst the waves, where I can feel like I have a soul that has been saved. Where I can feel like I've put away my early grave, I gotta say it now, better loud than too late... (Credit: Pearl Jam)
You make me thinks... of you...
I watched you, hard at work, pursued and hounded by those more wealthy than you, but who came to you, asking for your services. You're good at what you do, and it wasn't long after you made me a shirt and pant, which I didn't expect to get, that I knew you were too good for me. My service to fix a shelf was nothing compared to the shirt and pant you fashioned for me.
But I said I wasn't a good man but I would try to do good by you. So I will. I do wonder what you truly think...
I think, there's something about you that makes me want to be a good... man.
You make me think of ... some words....
What used to be a house of cards, has turned into a reservoir, save the tears that were water falling, let's go swim tonight, darling. And once outside the undertow, just you and me, and nothing more. If not for love, I would be drowning, I've seen it work both ways, but I am up riding high amongst the waves, where I can feel like I have a soul that has been saved. Where I can feel like I've put away my early grave, I gotta say it now, better loud than too late... (Credit: Pearl Jam)
You make me thinks... of you...
Written By Khloe
Feb. 15, 2017, 12:29 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
There are some days that I think my heart might truly break when I walk through the streets and see the state of despair that's fallen upon many of the people who raised me to be the young woman I am today. And for the first time in a long time, I am without the right word to say unto them to be the palm to their pain.
What do you say to a mother or a father who mourns the loss of sons and
daughters?
How do you soothe your fellow man stricken with fear for what the shadows hold?
There are no platitudes and uncertain promises you should say to them, for wouldn't it just be a lie? Instead, it is with action and conviction that with the morning there is hope yet to be discovered. Of faith to be reborn in ourselves and our fellow neighbors and brothers; not the meaningless charity from a hand in which is blind to their pains, but by the labor and merit from the brother who understands.
What do you say to a mother or a father who mourns the loss of sons and
daughters?
How do you soothe your fellow man stricken with fear for what the shadows hold?
There are no platitudes and uncertain promises you should say to them, for wouldn't it just be a lie? Instead, it is with action and conviction that with the morning there is hope yet to be discovered. Of faith to be reborn in ourselves and our fellow neighbors and brothers; not the meaningless charity from a hand in which is blind to their pains, but by the labor and merit from the brother who understands.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 15, 2017, 12:27 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
Walking the city is interesting. The chill air prickles on my skin. It's still fall but I can smell winter coming. The hint of salt in the air in parts of town reminds me of home. Not ... my new home, my home now with Lord Tiber and all the rich forests and the twin rivers, but ... my first home, my real home. Will I ever stop thinking of Brighthold that way?
I always forget how big the city is. It's been years since I came to Arx. But the levies are called, the troops march, and a dire threat masses on the horizon, so here we are.
Today, I explored the city, investigated several shops, studied a prayer book at the shrine of Limerance, met the High Lord of Grayson, accidentally compared her to my great grandmother -- look, these things happen, all right? -- and possibly threw imaginary water at a nice swordswoman (hammerwoman?) of my fealty who has pretty great hair. I also attended a bread making competition where the Thrax showed people how to make hardtack, at which I performed just as badly as you might expect.
It's interesting to think of, really: that we turn the a life or death skill for our people into a game that we play for fun, as a fundraiser? Yet I can't say that it wasn't a fun game! But it does make you stop and think, doesn't it? Of what you owe your liege? Of what you owe the commoners under your protection? Doesn't it make you wonder what Limerance would think? Perhaps I will ask a priest!
I can imagine Tibault's expression telling him about it and it makes me laugh just sitting here writing!
I always forget how big the city is. It's been years since I came to Arx. But the levies are called, the troops march, and a dire threat masses on the horizon, so here we are.
Today, I explored the city, investigated several shops, studied a prayer book at the shrine of Limerance, met the High Lord of Grayson, accidentally compared her to my great grandmother -- look, these things happen, all right? -- and possibly threw imaginary water at a nice swordswoman (hammerwoman?) of my fealty who has pretty great hair. I also attended a bread making competition where the Thrax showed people how to make hardtack, at which I performed just as badly as you might expect.
It's interesting to think of, really: that we turn the a life or death skill for our people into a game that we play for fun, as a fundraiser? Yet I can't say that it wasn't a fun game! But it does make you stop and think, doesn't it? Of what you owe your liege? Of what you owe the commoners under your protection? Doesn't it make you wonder what Limerance would think? Perhaps I will ask a priest!
I can imagine Tibault's expression telling him about it and it makes me laugh just sitting here writing!
Written By Marius
Feb. 14, 2017, 11:06 p.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
If the reports are to be believed - and who in their right mind would lie about a thing like that? - it seems we were right all along; shavs by the thousands are massing against us. Hardly a surprise to us Greenmarchers, but I would wish with all my strength that we had been wrong. But, we are not a wishful group of people - the Greenwood's stark realities cleanses us of that particular quality early on... that's not to say we're lost in doom and gloom, lacking art and imagination - by no means! - just that fanciful wishing does not usually put the rabbit in the stew.
So: we have met the enemy and they are as we thought - feral, vicious, and driven by the Bringers. Well, if they want a fight, they have come to the right place. We held the Greenwood against them a thousand years ago, and we Greenmarchers intend to bring that same tenacity to the Compact. We are Untamed and Unconquered for a reason; it seems to be time to remind the demons just what that reason is.
Marian, Eirlys, and Fiachra made it plainly known, in this first encounter. I could not be more proud of them if I tried. Marian is a whirlwind of death when she's in the mood, and I would trust Fiachra to part a man's hair with an arrow at a hundred paces, on horseback. Eirlys surprised me, ushering many mindless shavs into whatever dark eternity they're destined for as she protected Prince Edain's blind side. I'm not surprised at her tenacity or duty - she is a Greenmarcher! - I just don't often think of her wielding a weapon. I laughed a little, wondering if the feral shavs she slew discounted her... to their ultimate demise, of course.
I am proud of my family as rule. We are all proud of our family - just ask anyone who has made the idiotic mistake of speaking ill of a Greenmarcher around Muiryn! - but today, it might just threaten to spill out from the Lodge like a wave...
The loss of life always causes me grief. I do not revel in the death of allies, even respected enemies. Deaths can have meaning, though, and I choose to believe that we will not waste our pain; we will use it to hone us into more lethal foes, more terrifying enemies, until even the demon horde itself is forced to admit they were wrong to press us.
So: we have met the enemy and they are as we thought - feral, vicious, and driven by the Bringers. Well, if they want a fight, they have come to the right place. We held the Greenwood against them a thousand years ago, and we Greenmarchers intend to bring that same tenacity to the Compact. We are Untamed and Unconquered for a reason; it seems to be time to remind the demons just what that reason is.
Marian, Eirlys, and Fiachra made it plainly known, in this first encounter. I could not be more proud of them if I tried. Marian is a whirlwind of death when she's in the mood, and I would trust Fiachra to part a man's hair with an arrow at a hundred paces, on horseback. Eirlys surprised me, ushering many mindless shavs into whatever dark eternity they're destined for as she protected Prince Edain's blind side. I'm not surprised at her tenacity or duty - she is a Greenmarcher! - I just don't often think of her wielding a weapon. I laughed a little, wondering if the feral shavs she slew discounted her... to their ultimate demise, of course.
I am proud of my family as rule. We are all proud of our family - just ask anyone who has made the idiotic mistake of speaking ill of a Greenmarcher around Muiryn! - but today, it might just threaten to spill out from the Lodge like a wave...
The loss of life always causes me grief. I do not revel in the death of allies, even respected enemies. Deaths can have meaning, though, and I choose to believe that we will not waste our pain; we will use it to hone us into more lethal foes, more terrifying enemies, until even the demon horde itself is forced to admit they were wrong to press us.
Written By Silas
Feb. 14, 2017, 10 p.m.(12/4/1005 AR)
A shame. I was looking forward to the wedding reception.
Oh well. I'm sure there will be others.
Oh well. I'm sure there will be others.
Written By Luis
Feb. 14, 2017, 8:46 p.m.(12/4/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Pietro
My dear cousin
I cannot believe you and your brother are gone.
On your grave I will kill every shav I see from now until the end of my days.
May your soul get the rest those bastards don't deserve.
I cannot believe you and your brother are gone.
On your grave I will kill every shav I see from now until the end of my days.
May your soul get the rest those bastards don't deserve.
Written By Alistair
Feb. 14, 2017, 8:11 p.m.(12/4/1005 AR)
Despite what some may think... not all Abandoned know all Abandoned... not all Prodigals know all Prodigals... not all Prodigals know all Abandoned. We are a thousand different tribes of a hundred different lands. Sometimes I have forgotten that myself, and trying to treat with those of a shared life comes no easier to me then it does to those of Civilization. They can be frustratingly ignorant and locked in their ways. At times I would rather deal with elves. At least they would go about entertaining themselves.
Written By Alistair
Feb. 14, 2017, 7:51 p.m.(12/4/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Rymarr
It seem some Inquisitorial notes found their way into one of Alistair's white journals. Or perhaps he always writes in such a tone.
"A dutiful man. The Crown and the Kings Own is lucky to have him. I hope he does not come with regrets."
"A dutiful man. The Crown and the Kings Own is lucky to have him. I hope he does not come with regrets."
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.