Written By Lark
Nov. 16, 2016, 1:09 a.m.(2/18/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Viktarkim
Written By Lark
Nov. 16, 2016, 12:26 a.m.(2/18/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Sabella
Written By Max
Nov. 15, 2016, 10:54 p.m.(2/17/1005 AR)
Don't discount it, Mainlanders.
Else we'll be stopping the entire fucking convoy to fish a man from the deep. Probably not worth it, cause its damned impossible to tread water with trousers down twixt your ankles.
Damned impossible, but hilarious to watch.
Written By Sabella
Nov. 15, 2016, 10:48 p.m.(2/17/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Juliet
Written By Serafine
Nov. 15, 2016, 10:47 p.m.(2/17/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Victus
I mean. He even spits when he's excited.
Excellent fighter! Next time I'll bring an army and shoot for a more graceful defeat!
Gloria's glorious gorgeous gonads. What a throttling!
Written By Serafine
Nov. 15, 2016, 10:45 p.m.(2/17/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Viktarkim
Written By Sabella
Nov. 15, 2016, 10:36 p.m.(2/17/1005 AR)
Written By Orazio
Nov. 15, 2016, 9:23 p.m.(2/17/1005 AR)
We speak often of redemption. I'm not certain that we do it as often as we speak of it, but everyone loves a good redemption story. I think, in my heart of hearts, that the Sentinel likes one just as much.
But redemption is not easy. It cannot be predicted. You cannot murder someone and say, "Yes, I did that, but I spent ten years giving all my possessions to the poor and my food to the hungry, so I am redeemed." Even if, over that decade, you improved the lives of far more people than you ruined. There is no guarantee.
The path of redemption is not a road, paved with specific "good deeds" that you can hold up to others' eyes and say, "Look, I deserve your forgiveness. I deserve your trust and your affection. I deserve to live." The path of redemption is a thorn-strewn trail through the darkest thickets, where you will never know if you've arrived at your destination until you finally pass through the Reflection.
The only certainty is pain and regret.
Written By Ida
Nov. 15, 2016, 7:20 p.m.(2/17/1005 AR)
Written By Eirene
Nov. 15, 2016, 6:25 p.m.(2/17/1005 AR)
Luckily business went smooth. Lady Dawn - sensible woman that she is and royal by-blow, is now Regent. Do -not- envy her. Especially with the announcement following.
Old monsters out of mythology posing real and current threats. Half the room wanted to go kill things and the other half wanted to pour through dusty archives and try to talk to other things.
Me? I wanted a drink. Got one too...
Have a feeling I'm going to be doing a bit of both in days to come. Bit of all three, actually...
Written By Max
Nov. 15, 2016, 4:17 p.m.(2/17/1005 AR)
I responded:
'If it comes to life, we can put it back to death' .
Written By Eirene
Nov. 15, 2016, 11:17 a.m.(2/16/1005 AR)
So when I was a child, younger one that I am, we used to play Alarice versus Elves. I rarely got to claim Queen Alarice though. But we would take all the furniture we could get our hands on and wall off half a room - that was our version of Arx. One of the girls would be Queen Alarice and one of the boys would be King Ako. Or whatever his name was, the leader of these elves. We'd divide into two teams and try to 'take out' the others. Sneak through gaps in the chairs and tables, throw pillows and food from over the walls like artillery. Team who had the most people standing when someone came to tell us to knock it the fuck off won.
I remember, one time I actually got to be the Queen, I ordered a volley of walnuts be lobbed at our foes. I got in trouble for that one due to a black eye or two. But I won, dammit.
This time it's not a game. It's not a silly threat - eat your dinner or the elves will drag you away. This time our lives are all on the line and we know jack all about the real history of what happened.
And what was in that treaty about -peace marriages?-
Written By Samantha
Nov. 15, 2016, 10:29 a.m.(2/16/1005 AR)
We may be at war. The Gray Forest has been visited with atrocities the likes of which from the sound of it would make what I experienced in my childhood a day in the sun. Old Oak is a place of peace and trade, and we have very little in the way of a military. I am dispatching messages back home to bolster our defenses, but I am not prepared to order conscription just yet. The nobility throw away common lives far too easily and commoners are always the first to day in defense of the nation. For any man to do this with a willing heart, we must be a nation worth dying for.
I have received an offer of marriage. It would solve a great many problems, and open the door to a plethora of new ones.
Written By Eos
Nov. 15, 2016, 10:18 a.m.(2/16/1005 AR)
There are more meetings to be had here after the Assembly of the Peers. There were others before. A young woman of my homeland, of a family that has long served the Saikland Greens, has arrived to answer a request sent to her father. Leola Allenatore. I am sure she will stand the equal to him in time and is at least equal to the tasks I have set before her. As her father trained Mabosa, my long and steady company for some years now, she will train the new warhorses. Further than that, I have introduced her to what I have so far only called The Challenge; the walking, breathing, snarling embodiment of the Saik sigil. I don't think that she was fearless to sit next to the lion's cage, but she did not show it, and seemed to win some favor with the beast. I look forward to seeing what she is able to do with it.
Beyond that, I will only say that I miss for my family this week, for the Baron and Baroness that Kima and I call Father and Mother. For those few that survived the plague that I might call cousins and aunts and uncles. I can only hope that they are well. They are heavy on my mind.
Written By Abbas
Nov. 15, 2016, 9:39 a.m.(2/16/1005 AR)
Last night they held the Assembly. I did not speak like I wanted to do so. I had never been to such a thing before and I have been Reaving since I was 12. I haven't been breaking bread and negotiating deals. Nor is that what I am suited for.
I feel for those who are being butchered. Death is certain but being ripped apart limb from limb and mutilated for dark magic is beyond comprehension. I have done things that others will measure in terms of barbarity and cruelty. But it is nothing compared to what the Bringer did.
People are being slaughtered and all we do is leave notes in the woods. Hoping for peace is splendid but one should also be prepared for war. And right now our only defense is pleading to things that treat us like pawns.
That's no defense at all.
Written By Anze
Nov. 15, 2016, 8:56 a.m.(2/16/1005 AR)
Wars comin, tha's for f'an sure, jus I dunno with what. Think there is going tah be a lot of time spent at the trainin grounds, and if tha crowd there last night was any indication I ain' tha only one gettin ready.
Enjoy f'an your princess while yah can little cousin, bloods gonna poor eventually.
Written By Esera
Nov. 15, 2016, 8:52 a.m.(2/16/1005 AR)
Written By Esera
Nov. 15, 2016, 8:45 a.m.(2/16/1005 AR)
Written By Fortunato
Nov. 15, 2016, 8:20 a.m.(2/16/1005 AR)
In the center of the page, a couple of silky, pop-eared pups, tiny and delicate and impeccably groomed, run short-legged through a fire-blasted landscape of skeleton trees, kicking up wee puffs of ash with their wee feet. A large "NO" is written next to them in an emphatic hand.
The third sketch, in the lower right corner, is the least defined. The two pups seem to be in the attitude of mid-roll, one is on its back, stubby legs pawing at the air. Their fur is so aggressively fluffy that the contours of their bodies are nearly lost. They appear to be situated in a field of loose-sketched blades of grass, their eyes are closed, they have dopey, happy, sleepy expressions. A large "YES" is written next to them in an emphatic hand.
Written By Victus
Nov. 15, 2016, 6:18 a.m.(2/15/1005 AR)
If I am surprised its that there weren't any alternatives offered. My bad. I thought at least some ambitious fucker was gonna try something.
Anyhow, if you're riding into a storm, best have a Captain. And once you have a Captain, the crew best be behind that Captain. Even if the Captain is a young woman and a bastard at that. There's no point in looking back when you've made that choice. You ride it out with what you got, and hope to the fucking Gods everybody pulls their weight.
So here's to Dawn, Regent of the Compact. May you not suck at your new job.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.