Written By Leta
Jan. 8, 2017, 2:01 a.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Haven't written much because I know there are many wise minds writing about these matters of the Crown, so there's no call for me to say anything.
I don't know if I agree with this sacrifice. I don't like the sound of it, and I don't know if it's any good to offend the gods. Maybe the cure is worse than the sickness, and maybe not.
But when it comes to sacrifice, I don't know what sort of folk the elves say they needed, if it was just folk with six fingers in one hand, or the seventh of seven brothers, or only the sons and daughters of kings and queens of old. If it was just any man or woman, there's folk that are sick or dying, so not even the Mercies can help. Some of these folk have children, bound to be orphans before the year's done. If the Crown were to give their children a home, a trade, and a proper stipend, like some folk get just for being born to noble parents, I'd wager you'd get more than willing to go. Ask outside of Arx, and you'd get ten times the number.
If some noble wants to go, that's their affair, but giving orphans a home and a trade is better than making more, silk or not. Good and bad die every day, and you might as well make it worth the death.
Now this is too late, but maybe there's call for such a thing again in the future, so I put it here for the scholars to remember.
I went to see my folks after it happened, and they're well. The cat had kittens, as cats don't much care about Regents or Kings, but only one lived. I'm thinking of taking her in. I don't know if what some folk say about kittens and dark magics has any truth to it, but even if it doesn't, I've the coin to spare for a saucer and some milk and offal.
I don't know if I agree with this sacrifice. I don't like the sound of it, and I don't know if it's any good to offend the gods. Maybe the cure is worse than the sickness, and maybe not.
But when it comes to sacrifice, I don't know what sort of folk the elves say they needed, if it was just folk with six fingers in one hand, or the seventh of seven brothers, or only the sons and daughters of kings and queens of old. If it was just any man or woman, there's folk that are sick or dying, so not even the Mercies can help. Some of these folk have children, bound to be orphans before the year's done. If the Crown were to give their children a home, a trade, and a proper stipend, like some folk get just for being born to noble parents, I'd wager you'd get more than willing to go. Ask outside of Arx, and you'd get ten times the number.
If some noble wants to go, that's their affair, but giving orphans a home and a trade is better than making more, silk or not. Good and bad die every day, and you might as well make it worth the death.
Now this is too late, but maybe there's call for such a thing again in the future, so I put it here for the scholars to remember.
I went to see my folks after it happened, and they're well. The cat had kittens, as cats don't much care about Regents or Kings, but only one lived. I'm thinking of taking her in. I don't know if what some folk say about kittens and dark magics has any truth to it, but even if it doesn't, I've the coin to spare for a saucer and some milk and offal.
Written By Cassius
Jan. 8, 2017, 1:56 a.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Tristram
To the Scholars of Vellichor and the people of Arx:
I originally penned this letter to Prince Tristram Valardin and have made a copy for the archives. The subject matter is faith, miracles, and hope.
Lord Cassius Nightgold, KoS
**********************************************************************
Prince Tristram,
When you shared your story at the Assembly - which you had waited so patiently to do - it struck me as strange. You see, the Gods that I have learned of are not known for their direct actions in this world. They are not known for handing out miracles, not in any but the most subtle ways. When you shared that you had experienced what can only be described as a miracle, I was highly skeptical. There is so much false in this world. So many illusions we're meant to see as truth.
I spoke to Father Orazio, the Legate, as well as Archscholar Aldwin, then and there, as I considered your tale. I said to the Father, "But Father, the Gods do not act directly upon this world. How can this story be true?"
He said to me, "The Gods have always acted directly in this world. There have always been miracles."
I said to he, "Certainly, I believe in miracles. But they are small and this is so direct. Would not an action so direct made by the Gods cause their dark reflections to stir? To bring more evil into this world?"
That is when Father Orazio looked to me. He said to me, "Perhaps it is the other way around, Lord Cassius. The enemy has been more than stirring, its actions more than small. Perhaps the Gods feel to balance this darkness with their own light."
It was then and there that I felt so clearly the presence of the Gods amongst us. I knew, without a doubt, that the Father was right. That your story was true. That the Gods can and will take action, now at the time when we need it most. I believe you when you suggest there is another way to stop the Silence and the elves, and to keep Avrum safe.
I started to pen this letter the morning after Assembly. However much I wished to see it completed, duty called me away, and it is only now that I have a chance to finish it. Between then and now, much has happened, no more so than me experiencing a miracle myself. As you shared your tale, so I will share mine, in hopes my words might bolster you and all who read them the way yours have bolstered me.
I was called to assist with a matter, a matter that took me into the Lower Boroughs to chase down what we feared was a demon. Upon finding the demon, a creature that came from beyond the mirror, I recalled a prayer that I had learned as a child. As I held a flask of water blessed by Mangata, I spoke these words:
"We call upon Petrichor, we call upon the wind. Let it blow at our backs, let it push us forward. Let it ripple the pond and upset our dark reflections, so we can live today with only the light."
I cannot tell you why these words came back to me. They had seemed such a simple blessing. Yet, as I spoke them, with conviction in my heart, with courage in my soul, with dedication in my voice, I felt the Gods among us. It was more than something inside me. I felt as the wind stirred and burst through the opened windows of this derelict apartment. I could smell the forest - crisp and wet - despite being deep in the lower boroughs. This wind, this divine wind, blew in and swirled around this demon. It collected the droplets of the holy water I had flung and drove them into the demon's flesh. It howled as it blew past this demon's face, and like the wind can carry sand and carve out a canyon, so Petrichor's presence carved away the false flesh of the beast.
The demon fell. We saved two lives that day and none of my party was seriously injured.
Just as you witnessed a miracle, so have I. I have no doubt, not even the slightest, that the Gods will deliver, so long as we are faithful to them. So long as we believe. So long as we stand righteous.
The other day, as I stand watch at the House of Solace, a Seraph came to me. She asked what had happened, why the Iron Guard was off the streets, why the citizenry seemed so riled up. Buried in her work, she hadn't heard the news of the Assembly and the proclamations made. I shared with her the news, and she looked to me, and she asked, "In the face of such darkness, what is a Seraph to do? How is she to serve the people?" I told her your story. I told her what Father Orazio had shared with me. Just as it had for me, hope shone in her eyes.
I hope now that by adding my tale onto yours we can spread that light through all of Avrum, for if you have felt it, and I have felt it, I am sure there are many more that have as well.
Thank you, Prince Tristram.
Very respectfully,
Lord Cassius Nightgold, KoS
I originally penned this letter to Prince Tristram Valardin and have made a copy for the archives. The subject matter is faith, miracles, and hope.
Lord Cassius Nightgold, KoS
**********************************************************************
Prince Tristram,
When you shared your story at the Assembly - which you had waited so patiently to do - it struck me as strange. You see, the Gods that I have learned of are not known for their direct actions in this world. They are not known for handing out miracles, not in any but the most subtle ways. When you shared that you had experienced what can only be described as a miracle, I was highly skeptical. There is so much false in this world. So many illusions we're meant to see as truth.
I spoke to Father Orazio, the Legate, as well as Archscholar Aldwin, then and there, as I considered your tale. I said to the Father, "But Father, the Gods do not act directly upon this world. How can this story be true?"
He said to me, "The Gods have always acted directly in this world. There have always been miracles."
I said to he, "Certainly, I believe in miracles. But they are small and this is so direct. Would not an action so direct made by the Gods cause their dark reflections to stir? To bring more evil into this world?"
That is when Father Orazio looked to me. He said to me, "Perhaps it is the other way around, Lord Cassius. The enemy has been more than stirring, its actions more than small. Perhaps the Gods feel to balance this darkness with their own light."
It was then and there that I felt so clearly the presence of the Gods amongst us. I knew, without a doubt, that the Father was right. That your story was true. That the Gods can and will take action, now at the time when we need it most. I believe you when you suggest there is another way to stop the Silence and the elves, and to keep Avrum safe.
I started to pen this letter the morning after Assembly. However much I wished to see it completed, duty called me away, and it is only now that I have a chance to finish it. Between then and now, much has happened, no more so than me experiencing a miracle myself. As you shared your tale, so I will share mine, in hopes my words might bolster you and all who read them the way yours have bolstered me.
I was called to assist with a matter, a matter that took me into the Lower Boroughs to chase down what we feared was a demon. Upon finding the demon, a creature that came from beyond the mirror, I recalled a prayer that I had learned as a child. As I held a flask of water blessed by Mangata, I spoke these words:
"We call upon Petrichor, we call upon the wind. Let it blow at our backs, let it push us forward. Let it ripple the pond and upset our dark reflections, so we can live today with only the light."
I cannot tell you why these words came back to me. They had seemed such a simple blessing. Yet, as I spoke them, with conviction in my heart, with courage in my soul, with dedication in my voice, I felt the Gods among us. It was more than something inside me. I felt as the wind stirred and burst through the opened windows of this derelict apartment. I could smell the forest - crisp and wet - despite being deep in the lower boroughs. This wind, this divine wind, blew in and swirled around this demon. It collected the droplets of the holy water I had flung and drove them into the demon's flesh. It howled as it blew past this demon's face, and like the wind can carry sand and carve out a canyon, so Petrichor's presence carved away the false flesh of the beast.
The demon fell. We saved two lives that day and none of my party was seriously injured.
Just as you witnessed a miracle, so have I. I have no doubt, not even the slightest, that the Gods will deliver, so long as we are faithful to them. So long as we believe. So long as we stand righteous.
The other day, as I stand watch at the House of Solace, a Seraph came to me. She asked what had happened, why the Iron Guard was off the streets, why the citizenry seemed so riled up. Buried in her work, she hadn't heard the news of the Assembly and the proclamations made. I shared with her the news, and she looked to me, and she asked, "In the face of such darkness, what is a Seraph to do? How is she to serve the people?" I told her your story. I told her what Father Orazio had shared with me. Just as it had for me, hope shone in her eyes.
I hope now that by adding my tale onto yours we can spread that light through all of Avrum, for if you have felt it, and I have felt it, I am sure there are many more that have as well.
Thank you, Prince Tristram.
Very respectfully,
Lord Cassius Nightgold, KoS
Written By Tristram
Jan. 8, 2017, 1:19 a.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Cassius
And then there were two of us, and soon there will be more, and together, we will stem the tide of darkness. In this I pledge my faith and sacred honor.
Written By Tristram
Jan. 8, 2017, 1:19 a.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Cassius
And then there were two of us, and soon there will be more, and together, we will stem the tide of darkness. In this I pledge my faith and sacred armor.
Written By Tristram
Jan. 8, 2017, 1:17 a.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Cassius
And then there were two of us, and soon there will be more, and together, we will stem the tide of darkness. In this I pledge my faith and sacred armor.
Written By Signe
Jan. 8, 2017, 1:14 a.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
I see the pain beneath your armor. The energy of this city has been poisoned by the wounds of recent events and you suffer with it. Remember: you are a Mountain - a spine of stone, grounded to this earth. You, too, will weather this storm.
Written By Rymarr
Jan. 8, 2017, 12:36 a.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
As war looms on the horizon, I begin to question many things.
The wisdom of others. My own purpose. The actions of others. My own words. To name only a few.
I rarely openly write a journal focused on self-reflection or discussing the matters which I encounter on a regular basis. Call it paranoia, call it fear. I will call it security. My role in this world, at this time, is to see to the safety of our sleeping king. Due to this role I find myself regularly unable to form friendships as I so often consider the matter of ulterior motives. No doubt this is exacerbated by the long series of misfortunes my family has historically suffered that ultimately resulted in my expecting the worst and being pleasantly surprised when my concerns were unfounded.
For a change though I will do as so many do and comment on the topics of the day. Possibly for my own sake and my own sanity, unable or perhaps unwilling so often to form personal friendships. It could be the means which will allow me to allow my thoughts to be known, without the threat of allowing someone too close to manipulate their way into gathering information which could violate my vow to protect the Crown.
The Teind. So many are opposed to it, yet so many are in favor of it. This is an issue that I find myself so regularly uncertain. I see the merit in the possibility, but it is just that, a possibility. The Teind is reputed to be our savior, yet it comes at a cost. Thirteen lives paid for exactly that: a possibility. There are no assurances, there is no certainty that the Teind will not wipe out only our enemies. What if it were to be turned against the blood which is used to fuel the ritual? The Nox'alfar claim to be unable to end our King's long rest, but they have the power to vanquish or impede an enemy through blood magic? It smells of deceit and ulterior motive.
The Nox'alfar. I have encountered them. I have witnessed their Twilight Court. A place of chaos, revelry, and devoid of logic. Or reason, by our standards. Their King Calithex, reputedly the most powerful mage in the world or so the ghost's whispers would lead me to believe, a bored lump who resides upon his throne while his court gallivants from one death to the next. I have witnessed them eaten alive, set ablaze, and I find myself willing to trust them as far as I could throw one of their number while set aflame and a spider chewing on their legs. Who keeps a spider that big? When it reached the size of a horse however long ago, no one thought that perhaps it should have been slain?
The Assembly of Peers. I am thankful each day that there was not some attempted uprising within those august halls. I am thankful that the King's Own did not have to draw steel to defend against some heinous plot. I am thankful that the people of Arx, my people, largely kept their heads despite the many stresses of that night. We all felt it, even those who maintained their composure until the end. We all understand those who showed dismay over their respective issues. We understand.
The King's Own is still comprised of the sons and daughters of Arvum. While we've sworn our loyalty to the safety and security to the Crown, this is still our home as well. One should not think that we are uncaring or that our thoughts do not turn to those who have lost their lives beyond the walls of our cloistered tower. Each loss of life is felt keenly, as it directly strengthens the resolve of our number and hones our focus. It draws into sharp clarity that the world is becoming more and more unstable with each passing day. That some day, gods forbid, our duty to the Crown will be truly tested. I hope such a day does not come to pass, but I always expect the worst, so I will not hold my breath.
As the threats make themselves more and more apparent on the horizon, some which I've faced myself already in standing between <redacted> and the then Lady Regent Dawn, our blows landing with what seemed initially to be little effect. I begin to wonder if taking my vow to the Sovereign's Own was the right choice. I do not regret it in the slightest. I merely question whether I would be more useful when the time comes, on the front lines rather than watching over the safety of the palace and king.
My hand is cramped now. I will write no more. Nor will I for sometime. It is strange making my thoughts and feelings visible so readily. It is not my nature. A character flaw perhaps, but it is one that I believe better serves the safety of the Crown. Some day, maybe, I will not need to be so guarded.
The wisdom of others. My own purpose. The actions of others. My own words. To name only a few.
I rarely openly write a journal focused on self-reflection or discussing the matters which I encounter on a regular basis. Call it paranoia, call it fear. I will call it security. My role in this world, at this time, is to see to the safety of our sleeping king. Due to this role I find myself regularly unable to form friendships as I so often consider the matter of ulterior motives. No doubt this is exacerbated by the long series of misfortunes my family has historically suffered that ultimately resulted in my expecting the worst and being pleasantly surprised when my concerns were unfounded.
For a change though I will do as so many do and comment on the topics of the day. Possibly for my own sake and my own sanity, unable or perhaps unwilling so often to form personal friendships. It could be the means which will allow me to allow my thoughts to be known, without the threat of allowing someone too close to manipulate their way into gathering information which could violate my vow to protect the Crown.
The Teind. So many are opposed to it, yet so many are in favor of it. This is an issue that I find myself so regularly uncertain. I see the merit in the possibility, but it is just that, a possibility. The Teind is reputed to be our savior, yet it comes at a cost. Thirteen lives paid for exactly that: a possibility. There are no assurances, there is no certainty that the Teind will not wipe out only our enemies. What if it were to be turned against the blood which is used to fuel the ritual? The Nox'alfar claim to be unable to end our King's long rest, but they have the power to vanquish or impede an enemy through blood magic? It smells of deceit and ulterior motive.
The Nox'alfar. I have encountered them. I have witnessed their Twilight Court. A place of chaos, revelry, and devoid of logic. Or reason, by our standards. Their King Calithex, reputedly the most powerful mage in the world or so the ghost's whispers would lead me to believe, a bored lump who resides upon his throne while his court gallivants from one death to the next. I have witnessed them eaten alive, set ablaze, and I find myself willing to trust them as far as I could throw one of their number while set aflame and a spider chewing on their legs. Who keeps a spider that big? When it reached the size of a horse however long ago, no one thought that perhaps it should have been slain?
The Assembly of Peers. I am thankful each day that there was not some attempted uprising within those august halls. I am thankful that the King's Own did not have to draw steel to defend against some heinous plot. I am thankful that the people of Arx, my people, largely kept their heads despite the many stresses of that night. We all felt it, even those who maintained their composure until the end. We all understand those who showed dismay over their respective issues. We understand.
The King's Own is still comprised of the sons and daughters of Arvum. While we've sworn our loyalty to the safety and security to the Crown, this is still our home as well. One should not think that we are uncaring or that our thoughts do not turn to those who have lost their lives beyond the walls of our cloistered tower. Each loss of life is felt keenly, as it directly strengthens the resolve of our number and hones our focus. It draws into sharp clarity that the world is becoming more and more unstable with each passing day. That some day, gods forbid, our duty to the Crown will be truly tested. I hope such a day does not come to pass, but I always expect the worst, so I will not hold my breath.
As the threats make themselves more and more apparent on the horizon, some which I've faced myself already in standing between <redacted> and the then Lady Regent Dawn, our blows landing with what seemed initially to be little effect. I begin to wonder if taking my vow to the Sovereign's Own was the right choice. I do not regret it in the slightest. I merely question whether I would be more useful when the time comes, on the front lines rather than watching over the safety of the palace and king.
My hand is cramped now. I will write no more. Nor will I for sometime. It is strange making my thoughts and feelings visible so readily. It is not my nature. A character flaw perhaps, but it is one that I believe better serves the safety of the Crown. Some day, maybe, I will not need to be so guarded.
Written By Lianne
Jan. 8, 2017, 12:11 a.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Mirari
Each meeting is a new surprise. Most notable are the first, in the challenge you presented, and the most recent, in the kindness you offered. Thank you.
Written By Bethany
Jan. 7, 2017, 11:40 p.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
The second in the series may be found in the following places:
The City Center
The Ebb and Flow Inn
The Queensrest Inn
The City Center
The Ebb and Flow Inn
The Queensrest Inn
Written By Rymarr
Jan. 7, 2017, 11:26 p.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Kerr
A household knight in the service of the Marquessa Deepwood. He seems a good man, one who I found interesting and a pleasure to meet. He is apparently also a smith, though his level of skill I am uncertain. The Marquessa thinks very highly of him and I believe her measure of the man is quite accurate.
I found him to be disciplined, respectful, polite, and loyal. Precisely what a knight should be.
I found him to be disciplined, respectful, polite, and loyal. Precisely what a knight should be.
Written By Rymarr
Jan. 7, 2017, 11:21 p.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Monique
I encountered her at Sleepless Knights while on business of the Crown. While performing a duty, she caught my attention as she was at the bar nearby. I would have paid her little attention to begin with, until I took note of a particular mark on her cloak that she so proudly wears.
The Minx of the Marches.
By becoming a prodigal her past transgressions were wiped clean and a fresh start her reward. That does not mean that I've forgotten the acts taken against my family's holdings. I can forgive, but I do not easily forget. As a result I will keep my eye on her when appropriate.
The Minx of the Marches.
By becoming a prodigal her past transgressions were wiped clean and a fresh start her reward. That does not mean that I've forgotten the acts taken against my family's holdings. I can forgive, but I do not easily forget. As a result I will keep my eye on her when appropriate.
Written By Ainsley
Jan. 7, 2017, 9:59 p.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Darren
Sends messages via flying squirrel...
Written By Percephon
Jan. 7, 2017, 8:57 p.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
A long and trying week, but one whose lessons have been well learned:
Respect those whose actions support their spoken convictions.
Admire those willing to forge new paths rather than take the easy, old road.
Pity those who are content to remain in ignorance.
Help those who work for everyone, not just the few.
Combat fear through the spread of knowledge to all.
Respect those whose actions support their spoken convictions.
Admire those willing to forge new paths rather than take the easy, old road.
Pity those who are content to remain in ignorance.
Help those who work for everyone, not just the few.
Combat fear through the spread of knowledge to all.
Written By Abbas
Jan. 7, 2017, 8:49 p.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Thirteen. Reflections. It is my duty to my family to destroy the horrors. I am no pious Reaver. I do believe the evil needs to be driven back for its boldness into the depths. The blood tithe has come due.
Written By Fortunato
Jan. 7, 2017, 7:07 p.m.(8/7/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Myrinda
A simple portrait of Myrinda, her eyes clear and direct, the side of her mouth quirked on the edge of amusement. Facial portrait, mostly, but with shoulders, hint of aeterna. The terminal lines on the right side of the chalk sketch are smudged. Blurred.
Written By Ainsley
Jan. 7, 2017, 5:18 p.m.(8/7/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Victus
Lord Thrax wanted to know the state of the Iron Guard, so I asked him to support us.
So he did.
Because he apparently cares about the peace of Arvum.
Got it? Lord Victus cares about Arvum.
So he did.
Because he apparently cares about the peace of Arvum.
Got it? Lord Victus cares about Arvum.
Written By Cai
Jan. 7, 2017, 5:12 p.m.(8/7/1005 AR)
08/07/1005
Fuck this damn city.
It has taken everything away from me.
It has taken everything away from the family I consider my own. And the others within it. It has taken so much.
When will it stop? When it has torn this family apart? When will my own actions stop being apart of it?
We should never of come here. We should've stayed in Marches. We were better there. We were happier there.
And now, duty and obligation is ripping at the very seams of everything we hold dear.
When will that stop. Tell me spirits, when will this family stop being punished?
Fuck this damn city.
It has taken everything away from me.
It has taken everything away from the family I consider my own. And the others within it. It has taken so much.
When will it stop? When it has torn this family apart? When will my own actions stop being apart of it?
We should never of come here. We should've stayed in Marches. We were better there. We were happier there.
And now, duty and obligation is ripping at the very seams of everything we hold dear.
When will that stop. Tell me spirits, when will this family stop being punished?
Written By Gabriel
Jan. 7, 2017, 4:11 p.m.(8/7/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Ainsley
The Prince presses on despite of strife, he's learned much since the days spent under me. A credit to the Iron Guard, especially in times as these.
Hotheaded as ever, he yet needs to temper his emotions. He does not wield them as keenly as he does his sword.
Hotheaded as ever, he yet needs to temper his emotions. He does not wield them as keenly as he does his sword.
Written By Roland
Jan. 7, 2017, 3:50 p.m.(8/7/1005 AR)
Since I have come to Arx, I have learned some things.
First, everyone makes sheep jokes at me. This is not new. It happened in Blancbier too.
Second, everything is very busy here. People are friendly but they have so much to do that they talk very quickly and walk the same way. That's new to me. But I'm adjusting. Yesterday, I only bowed to a man I bumped into three times, instead of the customary five, and he actually stayed for two of them.
Third, there is something wrong about the Grayson room in the Hall of Heroes. My leaflet on 'Sights of Arx for the Interested Visitor' suggested to go there, so I did, but I just know there's a mistake there somehow. I have checked every plaque for spelling, and I measured the room in paces twice. But I just can't figure it out. I'll keep going back until I know, though.
Still looking for useful work. Stood guard for a while outside a very nice house just for old time's sake, but it's just not the same without the count to occasionally yell at me for blocking his windows.
Sent fifty silver to Mum & Da through the holy temple, along with a letter detailing the sights. They would be very impressed at how tall everything is.
First, everyone makes sheep jokes at me. This is not new. It happened in Blancbier too.
Second, everything is very busy here. People are friendly but they have so much to do that they talk very quickly and walk the same way. That's new to me. But I'm adjusting. Yesterday, I only bowed to a man I bumped into three times, instead of the customary five, and he actually stayed for two of them.
Third, there is something wrong about the Grayson room in the Hall of Heroes. My leaflet on 'Sights of Arx for the Interested Visitor' suggested to go there, so I did, but I just know there's a mistake there somehow. I have checked every plaque for spelling, and I measured the room in paces twice. But I just can't figure it out. I'll keep going back until I know, though.
Still looking for useful work. Stood guard for a while outside a very nice house just for old time's sake, but it's just not the same without the count to occasionally yell at me for blocking his windows.
Sent fifty silver to Mum & Da through the holy temple, along with a letter detailing the sights. They would be very impressed at how tall everything is.
Written By Harald
Jan. 7, 2017, 1:50 p.m.(8/7/1005 AR)
On wearing steel at sea:
Before our duel, the young Count Darkwater mocked me, claiming it was suicide to wear steel at sea. I know Maximilian was seeking to bait me into a blunder of pride, but many mainlanders might hear such claims and believe them.
To those, I say plainly that no warrior worth his spear should fear to wear steel to a battle at sea. Those who have fallen into the sea during war are most often already bleeding from a mortal hurt they only wish could have landed on solid steel.
It is true that should a sailor's ship sink, the man in iron will drown, but so too will the man in leather, and the vast majority of men wearing nothing. Better to be a warrior in the battle with death in his eyes and steel on his shoulders who wins the fight, rather than being the timid soul with fear in his heart, preparing for defeat before blows are ever struck.
Many dread fighting men of Thrax favor lighter armors, not for fear of drowning but for love of speed. Those with the youth and vigor to fight well in such harness are worthy warriors. Those of us who have warred long enough to grow grey with our swords in hand will wear iron in our hair and on our backs.
Such is the way of war on the water.
Though if there is no fighting to be had and a storm looms, take off your damned armor, whatever it's made of.
Before our duel, the young Count Darkwater mocked me, claiming it was suicide to wear steel at sea. I know Maximilian was seeking to bait me into a blunder of pride, but many mainlanders might hear such claims and believe them.
To those, I say plainly that no warrior worth his spear should fear to wear steel to a battle at sea. Those who have fallen into the sea during war are most often already bleeding from a mortal hurt they only wish could have landed on solid steel.
It is true that should a sailor's ship sink, the man in iron will drown, but so too will the man in leather, and the vast majority of men wearing nothing. Better to be a warrior in the battle with death in his eyes and steel on his shoulders who wins the fight, rather than being the timid soul with fear in his heart, preparing for defeat before blows are ever struck.
Many dread fighting men of Thrax favor lighter armors, not for fear of drowning but for love of speed. Those with the youth and vigor to fight well in such harness are worthy warriors. Those of us who have warred long enough to grow grey with our swords in hand will wear iron in our hair and on our backs.
Such is the way of war on the water.
Though if there is no fighting to be had and a storm looms, take off your damned armor, whatever it's made of.
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