Written By Gabriel
Oct. 22, 2016, 10:44 a.m.(11/28/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Edain
A young man, forged by some of the best knights of the day, tempered in tragedy, and thrust into a position he could not have been ready for... and he still manages to carry it off with vigor, intelligence, and heart.
He is a tribute to his family, and an asset to the Compact.
He is a tribute to his family, and an asset to the Compact.
Written By Ianthe
Oct. 22, 2016, 10:15 a.m.(11/28/1004 AR)
I’m not entirely sure how I made it back to my room last night.
As I recall, the evening started with drinking and conversation with Prince Jarek Velenosa, Lord Salazar Argento, and Blacktongue, the Velenosa Harlequin. The disussion about luck was fascinating. Then Josie joined us and, as expected, the night took a turn.
I remember leaving the Inn. I remember the beach. Past that, my memory starts to disintegrate. I remember a group of very pretty women and a boat. And whiskey. Lots and lots of whiskey. I smell like I took a bath in it and then went for a swim in the ocean.
I woke up today with that damnable cat licking my face. My head is killing me. I think amputation may be the only option.
As I recall, the evening started with drinking and conversation with Prince Jarek Velenosa, Lord Salazar Argento, and Blacktongue, the Velenosa Harlequin. The disussion about luck was fascinating. Then Josie joined us and, as expected, the night took a turn.
I remember leaving the Inn. I remember the beach. Past that, my memory starts to disintegrate. I remember a group of very pretty women and a boat. And whiskey. Lots and lots of whiskey. I smell like I took a bath in it and then went for a swim in the ocean.
I woke up today with that damnable cat licking my face. My head is killing me. I think amputation may be the only option.
Written By Samantha
Oct. 21, 2016, 12:22 p.m.(11/25/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Michael
I'm not one to deny Michael's faults. He is arrogant and needs to be a lot more humble about his place in the world; he needs to understand that even if your position is granted by birth, you're obligated to do well in order to earn respect. It's going to be a hard lesson when he finally realizes it. Regardless, I have effectively been his elder sister ever since I was fostered by the Bislands. I always made sure he was included in our childhood games. If he can move past his sense of entitlement he will become the great man he hopes to be, and I will do everything I can to help him achieve that goal.
Written By Joscelin
Oct. 21, 2016, 3:37 a.m.(11/24/1004 AR)
Strange dream to wake me. Dreaming of my father on the battlefield, though if I recall, it was more like a swelling ditch. He and my aunt Ezora were caught by areas shot from high up, pinned in a ravine by barbed, poison-tipped arrows. It was a well planned ambush; it had to be, in that my father and his sister were quite keen.
He stood there, in my dream, on a hill alongside a river. The hill seemed to breathe, and in it, though I couldn't see, was a city made of granite. The city was full of people, bustling, busy, oblivious people. My father stood atop this hill-city, a ragged banner at his side, flapping noisily above him.
The arrow that killed him was in the cap as his arm, opting for a cuirass without chainmail. He insisted it slowed him down, and that Ezora was capable. The truth is, she was capable; but even she couldn't lift a shield to stop an arrow from above.
The Thornburns craft beautiful armor, in that it's pristine in its workmanship. Little in need of repair, it could handle blade, mallet, or axe with ease. It was my father's pride, maybe, that cost him his life. Or bad luck. Who can know for sure? Not me. But I know for certain that the armor and its creators were never at fault. I still recommend the Thornburns armor above all others.
I digress.
In this dream, my aunt Ezora is just behind him, smiling like I remember her, cocky, a smirk to the left that I never inherited. I remember she wasn't overly fond of my mother; found my mother's traditions too unusual. Though aunt Ezora was an eccentric herself, her stocky figure something I -did- get from her. Low to the ground, she could squat in the mud for hours, her tower shield as solid as rock. Mounted to her back, she had to hike it up a good foot to walk comfortable, lest her heels kick the damn thing. She too had our family curls, though her eyes were green to my father's gold.
My dream held this image, my father and aunt on this hill, holding fast like they were expecting something. My father's expression was calm. My aunt's was that sly smirk.
And then the ground began to crumble beneath my feet.
While I screamed, they remained calm, plummetting into the darkness below, a hole where the city had been.
'Relax!' my father called. 'You aren't falling.'
'I'm not?' I screamed.
'No, Josie. The world is falling away.' He smiled. '-You- are not moving. Everything else is, but you and me and Ezi, and-'
'Me.'
I turned to this new voice, this name I thought I knew, and I saw-
...well. Forget who I saw. It's not important.
What's important is-
-good gracious, is that the time? No, don't write that. I s-
(a splotch of ink mars the page)
He stood there, in my dream, on a hill alongside a river. The hill seemed to breathe, and in it, though I couldn't see, was a city made of granite. The city was full of people, bustling, busy, oblivious people. My father stood atop this hill-city, a ragged banner at his side, flapping noisily above him.
The arrow that killed him was in the cap as his arm, opting for a cuirass without chainmail. He insisted it slowed him down, and that Ezora was capable. The truth is, she was capable; but even she couldn't lift a shield to stop an arrow from above.
The Thornburns craft beautiful armor, in that it's pristine in its workmanship. Little in need of repair, it could handle blade, mallet, or axe with ease. It was my father's pride, maybe, that cost him his life. Or bad luck. Who can know for sure? Not me. But I know for certain that the armor and its creators were never at fault. I still recommend the Thornburns armor above all others.
I digress.
In this dream, my aunt Ezora is just behind him, smiling like I remember her, cocky, a smirk to the left that I never inherited. I remember she wasn't overly fond of my mother; found my mother's traditions too unusual. Though aunt Ezora was an eccentric herself, her stocky figure something I -did- get from her. Low to the ground, she could squat in the mud for hours, her tower shield as solid as rock. Mounted to her back, she had to hike it up a good foot to walk comfortable, lest her heels kick the damn thing. She too had our family curls, though her eyes were green to my father's gold.
My dream held this image, my father and aunt on this hill, holding fast like they were expecting something. My father's expression was calm. My aunt's was that sly smirk.
And then the ground began to crumble beneath my feet.
While I screamed, they remained calm, plummetting into the darkness below, a hole where the city had been.
'Relax!' my father called. 'You aren't falling.'
'I'm not?' I screamed.
'No, Josie. The world is falling away.' He smiled. '-You- are not moving. Everything else is, but you and me and Ezi, and-'
'Me.'
I turned to this new voice, this name I thought I knew, and I saw-
...well. Forget who I saw. It's not important.
What's important is-
-good gracious, is that the time? No, don't write that. I s-
(a splotch of ink mars the page)
Written By Myrinda
Oct. 21, 2016, 12:28 a.m.(11/24/1004 AR)
Ok, you scamps. You mischievous little rascals. Which of my incorrigible children did this? Hmm? I want a name!
Have I really gotten so old that you're worried about me being on my own? That I need this stupid little ball of fur to take care of?
He can stay, but I swear the moment he ruins even a scrap of silk, I am kicking him out.
*a trail of kitten paws have marred this page*
Have I really gotten so old that you're worried about me being on my own? That I need this stupid little ball of fur to take care of?
He can stay, but I swear the moment he ruins even a scrap of silk, I am kicking him out.
*a trail of kitten paws have marred this page*
Written By Darren
Oct. 20, 2016, 11:38 p.m.(11/23/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Morrighan
The Tailor Bear agreed to be my protege. I've been spreading her name all over town as it is, but I'll consider it a win anyway.
Now maybe she'll start working on a jacket for me that is even nicer than the one she made for Prince Fergus.
Now maybe she'll start working on a jacket for me that is even nicer than the one she made for Prince Fergus.
Written By Michael
Oct. 20, 2016, 11:11 p.m.(11/23/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Gabriel
Father, war hero, and the one man Michael feels he most prove himself to. And prove that he is better than.
Written By Michael
Oct. 20, 2016, 11:10 p.m.(11/23/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Iona
Mother, loved dearly, even if she likes to tease him often.
Written By Pietro
Oct. 20, 2016, 11 p.m.(11/23/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Calypso
Tonight I had a very enjoyable fight with Lady General Calypso Malvici. She did me the honor of fighting unarmored as I have yet to obtain a good working set of armor since my arrival in Arx, and we were very well-matched in the pit. I hope we will get to cross blades again sometime soon.
There is both grace and strength to her motion. The Blacktongue annoyed her the other day by calling her Sunshine, and I can see why she was annoyed, yet I can guess a few ways for a poet to make the moniker fit: sunlight is blinding when it reflects off fresh snow, inspiring when it gleams off new steel, and I'm not a poet, so I can't remember where I was going with this, but the point is, it doesn't have to be an insult.
The point is, she moves well, and I think there is much value to keeping in form with a partner who can keep you on your toes. I may have prevailed this time, but I'm pretty sure I just got lucky.
There is both grace and strength to her motion. The Blacktongue annoyed her the other day by calling her Sunshine, and I can see why she was annoyed, yet I can guess a few ways for a poet to make the moniker fit: sunlight is blinding when it reflects off fresh snow, inspiring when it gleams off new steel, and I'm not a poet, so I can't remember where I was going with this, but the point is, it doesn't have to be an insult.
The point is, she moves well, and I think there is much value to keeping in form with a partner who can keep you on your toes. I may have prevailed this time, but I'm pretty sure I just got lucky.
Written By Pietro
Oct. 20, 2016, 10:54 p.m.(11/23/1004 AR)
Ugh, I'm sore today after that sparring match with Lord Valkieri last night. Of course we weren't using live steel, but-- There is great strength to some of those blows!
I like to think I give as good as I get. I look forward to the next time we cross swords. After all, we're sparring partners of old.
I like to think I give as good as I get. I look forward to the next time we cross swords. After all, we're sparring partners of old.
Written By Cassius
Oct. 20, 2016, 5:54 p.m.(11/23/1004 AR)
I have returned from Stonedeep. The Knights of Solace tasked us with escorting more pilgrims from the North, and so I was attached as a guide. We were attacked along the way by Abandoned brigands. Sir Garthus died. As we could not carry the body for three weeks, he was buried by the side of the road and his grave marked. The shire disciple promised to keep up the grave until a proper monument could be made. Sir Garthus was sworn and had no family, so there are none to inform.
It has been near three months since I have been back to Arx. I look forward to seeing my family. And I look forward to a bath. There is also much prayer to be undertaken. I hope my sisters have been well in my absence.
It has been near three months since I have been back to Arx. I look forward to seeing my family. And I look forward to a bath. There is also much prayer to be undertaken. I hope my sisters have been well in my absence.
Written By Cordelia
Oct. 20, 2016, 4:57 p.m.(11/23/1004 AR)
Dear Diary,
What an insufferable ass! Sorry, not you, dear diary. Captain Abbas. The so-called Reaver Prince of Thrax. I mean, what in the deepest corridors of the Abyss was I thinking, to idolize him? I heard he fought in countless battles, but all I've seen so far is someone too deep in their spiced rum to notice the opportunities for greater fame and fortune. The pig outright announced he'd rather stare at my chest than go exploring the treacherous seas. The gray in his beard isn't the touch of a demon or a ghost, or even some dread sickness. It's just gray dye, I'm certain of it. He's nothing but a farce. A farce!
Anyway, sorry again for yelling at you. I just needed to vent. I think I'll go explore the city as scheduled. Maybe a good book at the Vellichorian Academy will help me relax.
Written By Myrinda
Oct. 20, 2016, 4:33 p.m.(11/23/1004 AR)
Don't think I haven't heard of that princess' thing that she's planning. There are rumors about it all over the city.
I will consider patronage of any person who has an invitation and will bring me as their plus-one.
And for the rest of the attendees, I will bring you fabulous gifts.
I will consider patronage of any person who has an invitation and will bring me as their plus-one.
And for the rest of the attendees, I will bring you fabulous gifts.
Written By Myrinda
Oct. 20, 2016, 3:13 p.m.(11/22/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Lazarus
What self-respecting tailor would give this man what he asked for?
He asked for a fancy suit of fine cloth, silk, and /feathers/. /Feathers/. In the colors of gold, light blue, /and/ purple.
He must be kidding. What is he, a peacock?
He can come back to me with a more reasonable request or not. I will only make clothes that will flatter my clients, not turn them into jokes.
Not unless they pay me a lot more.
He asked for a fancy suit of fine cloth, silk, and /feathers/. /Feathers/. In the colors of gold, light blue, /and/ purple.
He must be kidding. What is he, a peacock?
He can come back to me with a more reasonable request or not. I will only make clothes that will flatter my clients, not turn them into jokes.
Not unless they pay me a lot more.
Written By Lazarus
Oct. 20, 2016, 2:13 p.m.(11/22/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Myrinda
Myrinda is popular in the upper boroughs for her tailoring skill but I have come to the realization that she is just blowing smoke up our asses. Has anyone seen any of her craft? I have not. I requested a simple suit with the colors of the Mercier house for Princess Natalia's event later this weekend and Myrinda responded with not only an attitude but the revelation that in her own vocation she is simple-minded and limited to the most basic tailoring skills. I should have known better. The old hag is a joke.
Written By Juliet
Oct. 20, 2016, 11:22 a.m.(11/22/1004 AR)
It is flattering, sometimes, to realise just who goes to the Archives, taking time out of their days to read one's thoughts, and to send kindness your way.
Today I am humbled and grateful.
Today I am humbled and grateful.
Written By Juliet
Oct. 20, 2016, 9:56 a.m.(11/22/1004 AR)
Cousin Leo is bold, dedicated and loyal to our House. He loves us very much, and his every action is done in this regard.
It scares me a little.
All I've ever wanted from life is to surround myself with beauty and to share in pleasure. Call me a devotee of Jayus in this regard. He called it "smaller pleasures". I don't know what a large pleasure would be, but he speaks of the permanence of the House, of leaving a legacy.
I think we reached some sort of accord? I will do what I can to support my House in its endeavours and he will stop and smell the roses.
I consider this a victory, even if it will require great sacrifice on my part.
It scares me a little.
All I've ever wanted from life is to surround myself with beauty and to share in pleasure. Call me a devotee of Jayus in this regard. He called it "smaller pleasures". I don't know what a large pleasure would be, but he speaks of the permanence of the House, of leaving a legacy.
I think we reached some sort of accord? I will do what I can to support my House in its endeavours and he will stop and smell the roses.
I consider this a victory, even if it will require great sacrifice on my part.
Written By Juliet
Oct. 20, 2016, 9:45 a.m.(11/22/1004 AR)
Time in Arx is strange. Even with the season still in the midst of Summer, I've felt melancholy. Missing Tor. Secluding myself in my chamber and filling it with roses.
I can't do it. A chamber full of flowers is pretty, but it's nothing compared to the gardens of Tor. At least the villa gardens are properly stocked, and going there has gotten me out of my rooms. Cousin Prospero is accusing me of stalking every flower seller in the city. Which is preposterous. I've sent servants.
I must shake this malady.
I can't do it. A chamber full of flowers is pretty, but it's nothing compared to the gardens of Tor. At least the villa gardens are properly stocked, and going there has gotten me out of my rooms. Cousin Prospero is accusing me of stalking every flower seller in the city. Which is preposterous. I've sent servants.
I must shake this malady.
Written By Natalia
Oct. 20, 2016, 1:54 a.m.(11/21/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Iona
I genuinely like spending time with this woman. She does, however, make me miss my own mother. I suppose it is just because she has that vibe that she is the mother of most. Then again, in our family, she really has been the pseudo-mom to most.
Written By Natalia
Oct. 20, 2016, 1:53 a.m.(11/21/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Aislin
While she was one of the first to meet me for tea and I adore her for that. I cannot help but think that I bored her senseless. She was not rude, but it was not the same warmth that might have been.
I shall, of course, attempt to meet with her again. I just hope that it goes better.
I shall, of course, attempt to meet with her again. I just hope that it goes better.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.