Written By Tulasam
Nov. 24, 2016, 6:55 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Donella
Well I have been hired to do some work by this amazing woman. She has agreed to help me with the plan to build. Donated to the cause now to write this song.
Written By Sabella
Nov. 24, 2016, 5:53 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
I saw two Redrain Princes have a verbal fight the other night. I have learned that tongues are wagging about me, and who I am with. People have their perceptions, but most do not know what is really going on. If they want to know, they are more than welcome to ask me to my face. I am a friendly woman, and I strive to be kind to all. Even those who say unkind things about me.
Before you believe something, speak to the source.
Before you believe something, speak to the source.
Written By Costas
Nov. 24, 2016, 5:37 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Calypso
There is no comfort in considering why this woman has spared my life.
When I saw it was the hall of the Black Hawk to which the silent guards hauled me, I made serious calculations about my chance of escaping from their custody. Four armed men and me bruised and beaten, I might have dispatched one, maybe a second by way of surprise but didn't like my chances after that- Malvici armsmen have no reputation as slouches. Still, I was briefly tempted to try. Dying in a street with a blade in my hand would be better than many of the fates I could imagine waited for me within those walls. Perhaps it would just be hanging, which in the end is a few short moments of scorn and choking.
I chose cowardice. I wonder if I will again, when next I come close to the threshold of death.
Anyway- Calypso. What to make of this woman? She leaves little to consider, few clefts in her disposition to begin judgement. How much of that hard exterior is truth? Every word she speaks seems measured, but against what rule? The product of hard spirit, knowledge of what it take to command men, noble indifference? I have only questions, and the deep foreboding that answers will come at cost. I rule out compassion as her motivation in the outcome of our meeting. Not that I suspect she is without it, but then why take me into the house? No, she conceives of some use for me. To put me to work as a blade? Doubtful, she has no appraisal of my competence. To sea seems more likely. In this case I have two advantages- my long experience in navigation, and my knowledge of the routes and habits of pirates. I see no edge in revealing these first, better to wait for her command.
When I saw it was the hall of the Black Hawk to which the silent guards hauled me, I made serious calculations about my chance of escaping from their custody. Four armed men and me bruised and beaten, I might have dispatched one, maybe a second by way of surprise but didn't like my chances after that- Malvici armsmen have no reputation as slouches. Still, I was briefly tempted to try. Dying in a street with a blade in my hand would be better than many of the fates I could imagine waited for me within those walls. Perhaps it would just be hanging, which in the end is a few short moments of scorn and choking.
I chose cowardice. I wonder if I will again, when next I come close to the threshold of death.
Anyway- Calypso. What to make of this woman? She leaves little to consider, few clefts in her disposition to begin judgement. How much of that hard exterior is truth? Every word she speaks seems measured, but against what rule? The product of hard spirit, knowledge of what it take to command men, noble indifference? I have only questions, and the deep foreboding that answers will come at cost. I rule out compassion as her motivation in the outcome of our meeting. Not that I suspect she is without it, but then why take me into the house? No, she conceives of some use for me. To put me to work as a blade? Doubtful, she has no appraisal of my competence. To sea seems more likely. In this case I have two advantages- my long experience in navigation, and my knowledge of the routes and habits of pirates. I see no edge in revealing these first, better to wait for her command.
Written By Costas
Nov. 24, 2016, 3:42 p.m.(3/15/1005 AR)
I'm not sure why I bought this. Who buys an empty book?
That's a lie actually. I surely know. The shop girl had my silver the moment she flashed that smile. Gods, what a mark I am. If I'm not careful this city will eat me alive. How much did I even give her? Have to figure out what things are actually worth. Can't just throw what feels like the right sized handful on the counter anymore.
Is this really how land folk live? I don't know how the common class can't see how rigged it all is. Last night I met a Prince (a Prince!), and if I had to I'd wager the cloak round his shoulders, bought in a shop, could restock a three-mast thrice over. I'd seen its like before in plunder. Traded a dress made from the same stuff to a hustler for one of the better nights of my life- gods what was her name? Alia? Dahlia? Something like that... Anyway, well let's do the figures- Probably a plantation grows the stuff, we can assume the serfs working it get paid next to nothing if at all, but there's overhead in feed and board paid by the master. I don't recall seeing much raw silk in cargo so I assume he'll turn around, sell it for a profit to the cloth maker. That one's got to pay for some skilled labor, probably some fancy equipment, warehousing... Then that goes to a tailor, likely by way of a merchant- more overages there. To finally end up on a display rack as a finished product that's a lot of hands involved and all need to get silvered, each margin increasing by leaps and bounds else what would be the point in doing the thing.
Does the cloth-maker envy the tailor his superior profit? Do they all envy the merchant? What is it that allows them to coexist? How does the noble walk into the shop with so full a purse, and escape with his life? The tailor must pay the cloth-maker for his wares. Does each man in the chain simply go along because of the need to cover his debt to the one before? That rings right, but traced backward that would would put all debts ultimately paid to the plantation hand, whose wages are the most meager of all. What is his end, the pleasure of toil?
Seen this way, the number of pirates seems suspiciously low.
That's a lie actually. I surely know. The shop girl had my silver the moment she flashed that smile. Gods, what a mark I am. If I'm not careful this city will eat me alive. How much did I even give her? Have to figure out what things are actually worth. Can't just throw what feels like the right sized handful on the counter anymore.
Is this really how land folk live? I don't know how the common class can't see how rigged it all is. Last night I met a Prince (a Prince!), and if I had to I'd wager the cloak round his shoulders, bought in a shop, could restock a three-mast thrice over. I'd seen its like before in plunder. Traded a dress made from the same stuff to a hustler for one of the better nights of my life- gods what was her name? Alia? Dahlia? Something like that... Anyway, well let's do the figures- Probably a plantation grows the stuff, we can assume the serfs working it get paid next to nothing if at all, but there's overhead in feed and board paid by the master. I don't recall seeing much raw silk in cargo so I assume he'll turn around, sell it for a profit to the cloth maker. That one's got to pay for some skilled labor, probably some fancy equipment, warehousing... Then that goes to a tailor, likely by way of a merchant- more overages there. To finally end up on a display rack as a finished product that's a lot of hands involved and all need to get silvered, each margin increasing by leaps and bounds else what would be the point in doing the thing.
Does the cloth-maker envy the tailor his superior profit? Do they all envy the merchant? What is it that allows them to coexist? How does the noble walk into the shop with so full a purse, and escape with his life? The tailor must pay the cloth-maker for his wares. Does each man in the chain simply go along because of the need to cover his debt to the one before? That rings right, but traced backward that would would put all debts ultimately paid to the plantation hand, whose wages are the most meager of all. What is his end, the pleasure of toil?
Seen this way, the number of pirates seems suspiciously low.
Written By Cicero
Nov. 24, 2016, 10:57 a.m.(3/15/1005 AR)
Bookwork can be dull
Numbers, figures, charts and notes
But such recompense
Numbers, figures, charts and notes
But such recompense
Written By Cicero
Nov. 24, 2016, 10:55 a.m.(3/15/1005 AR)
The dream, the idea, grows
Merchants of the river on board
Must reach still further
Merchants of the river on board
Must reach still further
Written By Cicero
Nov. 24, 2016, 10:53 a.m.(3/15/1005 AR)
Generous Lady
Children seen to with true care
Still can't reach high shelves.
Children seen to with true care
Still can't reach high shelves.
Written By Fortunato
Nov. 24, 2016, 10:02 a.m.(3/15/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Hana
A surprise niece. Thanks, Aureth. Hana is a good kid, talented, scarily talented, even. Hard to feel like the Lower Boroughs aren't a bit too much for her, though. These streets are the water I swim in, but I've been told repeatedly they're dirty and dangerous. Fortunate she already has a shop in the Ward of the Compact. Now she just has to manuever the waters that proper people swim in, and I know what I'd prefer.
But we're here for her. No matter what she encounters.
But we're here for her. No matter what she encounters.
Written By Morrighan
Nov. 24, 2016, 7:36 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
Ah, hello my old friend. Welcome back. It's been a while since I hurt this bad. The bottles of whiskey I've drank kind of help, but it sure didn't help me with my spar with that damn Darkwater Count. (He has a very talented stormcrow though, I like how it opens bottles of liquor and says obscene things. I like this bird.) It seemed like a good idea at the time, though it proved to be mostly cathartic. Now I can focus on something else for a while. My body hurts, my face hurts - I think one swollen eye is getting black, and my nose better not be fucking broken. I'm probably going to have to go pester Benjamin. Needed to visit him anyway. I don't foresee myself easily being able to get out of bed in the morning. I need to get more whiskey.
Written By Morrighan
Nov. 24, 2016, 7:10 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Max
He's a twat. Punches a lot harder than I thought he would have, but I got a few in, so I'm mostly pleased. One day it's going to be -me- beating the shit out of him. That day can't come fast enough.
Written By Eithne
Nov. 24, 2016, 3:34 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Natalia
I'm not the kind of lass that gets asked to tea but the Princess was insistent. Who am I to refuse royalty?
We had a lengthy discussion about armor and fashion and somehow the topic of my sister taunting me with the idea of making me a dress with cherries embroidered on it became the catalyst of Natalia's inspiration.
I am now the proud owner of a creepy red headed doll wearing a mint green dress with cherries.
Thank you, Princess. I'll cherish the nightmares forever.
We had a lengthy discussion about armor and fashion and somehow the topic of my sister taunting me with the idea of making me a dress with cherries embroidered on it became the catalyst of Natalia's inspiration.
I am now the proud owner of a creepy red headed doll wearing a mint green dress with cherries.
Thank you, Princess. I'll cherish the nightmares forever.
Written By Eithne
Nov. 24, 2016, 3:28 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Audric
More than a drinking buddy; more than my neighbor. He is someone I consider a friend.
He lets me wear his hat and he's okay with this.
He lets me wear his hat and he's okay with this.
Written By Eithne
Nov. 24, 2016, 3:26 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
Work, work, work, work, work...That's all I ever do. This isn't a gripe or woe is me for never doing anything else. We've fallen on dark days and the people of Arx need armor to protect them. They need -the best- armor and I intend to give it to them. Even when it is exceptional, it's still not good enough in my eyes. I can always do better. The people inspire me, they are my muse and I cannot fail them.
Written By Eos
Nov. 24, 2016, 2:13 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
It was difficult to not be in the Saiklands these past weeks. It was difficult to not be there for the funeral pyre or the interment of my father's bones in the family crypt. I sent a letter, words for my mother to read to the family and the people on my behalf. Pyres will burn across the Saiklands for a few days longer in rememberance, and those words, promises to the people that they will always have a lion in the Saiks, will be carried to pyre to pyre, to those who gather at them to remember the fallen, to hopefully bring them some comfort.
The memorial we held in Arx for those of us who could not break away from the city at this tumultuous time was a quiet but poignant evening. I was touched by the words, gifts, and gestures of those friends and allies the Saiks have made since establishing ourselves in the city.
With this last thing set behind us, it is time to look fully forward and to the future. There is more than enough work, more than enough to be done, to keep our minds occupied while time does what it will to dull the ache.
The memorial we held in Arx for those of us who could not break away from the city at this tumultuous time was a quiet but poignant evening. I was touched by the words, gifts, and gestures of those friends and allies the Saiks have made since establishing ourselves in the city.
With this last thing set behind us, it is time to look fully forward and to the future. There is more than enough work, more than enough to be done, to keep our minds occupied while time does what it will to dull the ache.
Written By Silas
Nov. 24, 2016, 1:33 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
It was an elegant ceremony, as far as memorial services go. They seem to be a close-knit family and it is obvious that the loss has hit them hard. I do not envy the burden now upon Lord Eos's shoulders.
Lazarus wanted to gift them a bottle of wine, so I had to go rummaging around for a suitable choice mere hours before it was to start. I think I found something suitable that wasn't -too- fruity: you don't want to be visibly enjoying yourself at something so somber.
Lazarus wanted to gift them a bottle of wine, so I had to go rummaging around for a suitable choice mere hours before it was to start. I think I found something suitable that wasn't -too- fruity: you don't want to be visibly enjoying yourself at something so somber.
Written By Hana
Nov. 24, 2016, 1:06 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Fortunato
I've never had an uncle before, but if Fortunato's anything to judge by, uncles are a good thing to have.
He's something of a philosopher, but he seems to understand me. We've only really spoken a handful of times so far -- I haven't known him very long -- but I've enjoyed every conversation. He always leaves me thinking.
(Besides, he did all the paintings for the walls of the Storied Blade, and I love them dearly.)
He's something of a philosopher, but he seems to understand me. We've only really spoken a handful of times so far -- I haven't known him very long -- but I've enjoyed every conversation. He always leaves me thinking.
(Besides, he did all the paintings for the walls of the Storied Blade, and I love them dearly.)
Written By Morrighan
Nov. 24, 2016, 12:54 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
There's nothing more disappointing than being proved wrong with something you had a firm belief in. Something you were so sure about that maybe it created some elaborate, well-constructed illusion. Sometimes it takes a poignant slap in the face to be brought back to reality, to really see what's there, rather what you wish to. Maybe it's the naivety of my youth that's to blame, or maybe I'm just incredibly stupid. I don't really know what I'm doing, but I'm sure I'll figure it out once I've got a few bottles of whiskey in me. Alas, everyone makes mistakes, what's most important is that we learn from them, lest they happen again.
Written By Hana
Nov. 24, 2016, 12:47 a.m.(3/14/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Aureth
It's strange, having a father where you never had one before. Knowing that half of you came from this person.
I don't really know Aureth Grayhope well yet. I've heard all kinds of things about him since I arrived in Arx, half of them contradictory.
So what do I know?
I know that when a daughter he didn't know he had showed up with questions, he welcomed her into his life. (I mean, first he nearly choked on his cider and fled the tavern to regain his composure, but eventually.) I know that he's tried to help how he could, being supportive in her efforts to open a shop. I know that when she had awkward questions about the family she never knew, he did his best to answer them.
He may not have been a very good father in the past -- or any kind of father at all, since he didn't know I existed -- but he's doing his best to be supportive now.
And there are plenty worse places to start from than that.
I don't really know Aureth Grayhope well yet. I've heard all kinds of things about him since I arrived in Arx, half of them contradictory.
So what do I know?
I know that when a daughter he didn't know he had showed up with questions, he welcomed her into his life. (I mean, first he nearly choked on his cider and fled the tavern to regain his composure, but eventually.) I know that he's tried to help how he could, being supportive in her efforts to open a shop. I know that when she had awkward questions about the family she never knew, he did his best to answer them.
He may not have been a very good father in the past -- or any kind of father at all, since he didn't know I existed -- but he's doing his best to be supportive now.
And there are plenty worse places to start from than that.
Written By Natalia
Nov. 24, 2016, 12:12 a.m.(3/13/1005 AR)
I wonder if anyone has ever had a situation that they are just not sure how to deal with? Like that moment that you are in it and thinking how surreal it is and how there is nothing to combat it.
I have been asked many times why I want to meet with people. I have been watched with skeptical eyes for each of these meetings. Or asked why I am helping one person. What I am trying to gain.
It is truly frustrating. Graysons are adventurers. I am not skilled in tactic or war or really even scouting. My adventures are not something that will bring heroics to my name; and truly I am fine with that. However, I am so vastly interested in everything about a person. Not just a secret or how to use them. They are people. I like to know what they love doing. What motivates them to succeed. What they worry about. If they need help in some area that I can provide or know where to direct them to someone who can.
I was asked recently what angle I was working. When I swore there was none. That I was giving my honesty in that I just wanted to help and learn about people; they called bullshit and told me I was a liar.
There are things I have errored in and people's truths I took as truth when perhaps they were not. Perhaps my guilt in that is in that I trusted people I should not have trusted. This has made me realize two things, one must strive very hard not to become bitter and see shadows all around them. Also, when you error, no one will help you learn. They will just condemn you and point the finger and tell you how you are wrong. How you were misled and foolish. They do not say that they understand how you could be misled. They do not give you what the actual truth is, even when you beg for it. I am not sure how I feel about this.
I am also not sure how you respond when you are telling the truth and they are calling you a liar. I have done one thing since my first day in the city that has never changed. I have taken tea with everyone. Ask around. Most will tell you I have met with them. They will probably tell you that I took an interest in their life and if you continue to actually ask around; you will find I have not used their information against them. If anything, I have tried to offer support or direction when I can. I have been open with my heart, with my coin and with my time. So what else must I do for these naysayers to finally stop telling me I am lying when I am telling the truth?
What do you do when you are not lying on intention and being told you are? There is never a way to speak against it; but I believe my actions in general have spoken. When confused, I have even sought answers and said I did not know what to do. Some helped. I adore them. Most... most just offer insult when I need clarification.
Maybe this is a bad idea to post in a journal that shows my actual thoughts, but I am not just a Princess of Grayson. I am a girl. I am someone who has lost their family, buried parents, lost a brother in a different way and have been at times misled by people that I sought to trust. I am still a person. I think perhaps people refuse to see that about their fellow men and women. We are, when stripped bare of title and birthright, only human. Perhaps more understanding and love and willingness to share over questioning intent, bitterness, fear and such could go a long way.
I have been asked many times why I want to meet with people. I have been watched with skeptical eyes for each of these meetings. Or asked why I am helping one person. What I am trying to gain.
It is truly frustrating. Graysons are adventurers. I am not skilled in tactic or war or really even scouting. My adventures are not something that will bring heroics to my name; and truly I am fine with that. However, I am so vastly interested in everything about a person. Not just a secret or how to use them. They are people. I like to know what they love doing. What motivates them to succeed. What they worry about. If they need help in some area that I can provide or know where to direct them to someone who can.
I was asked recently what angle I was working. When I swore there was none. That I was giving my honesty in that I just wanted to help and learn about people; they called bullshit and told me I was a liar.
There are things I have errored in and people's truths I took as truth when perhaps they were not. Perhaps my guilt in that is in that I trusted people I should not have trusted. This has made me realize two things, one must strive very hard not to become bitter and see shadows all around them. Also, when you error, no one will help you learn. They will just condemn you and point the finger and tell you how you are wrong. How you were misled and foolish. They do not say that they understand how you could be misled. They do not give you what the actual truth is, even when you beg for it. I am not sure how I feel about this.
I am also not sure how you respond when you are telling the truth and they are calling you a liar. I have done one thing since my first day in the city that has never changed. I have taken tea with everyone. Ask around. Most will tell you I have met with them. They will probably tell you that I took an interest in their life and if you continue to actually ask around; you will find I have not used their information against them. If anything, I have tried to offer support or direction when I can. I have been open with my heart, with my coin and with my time. So what else must I do for these naysayers to finally stop telling me I am lying when I am telling the truth?
What do you do when you are not lying on intention and being told you are? There is never a way to speak against it; but I believe my actions in general have spoken. When confused, I have even sought answers and said I did not know what to do. Some helped. I adore them. Most... most just offer insult when I need clarification.
Maybe this is a bad idea to post in a journal that shows my actual thoughts, but I am not just a Princess of Grayson. I am a girl. I am someone who has lost their family, buried parents, lost a brother in a different way and have been at times misled by people that I sought to trust. I am still a person. I think perhaps people refuse to see that about their fellow men and women. We are, when stripped bare of title and birthright, only human. Perhaps more understanding and love and willingness to share over questioning intent, bitterness, fear and such could go a long way.
Written By Juliet
Nov. 23, 2016, 11:26 p.m.(3/13/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Runa
I will name her Sweet, from the stories she read me.
She soothes me. Brings me peace.
Would that I could have her read me bedtime stories every night. My sleep should ever be restful, and filled with the most wondrous imaginings.
Does my cousin know what a treasure his assistant is?
She soothes me. Brings me peace.
Would that I could have her read me bedtime stories every night. My sleep should ever be restful, and filled with the most wondrous imaginings.
Does my cousin know what a treasure his assistant is?
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.