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Written By Kiera

Nov. 22, 2020, 12:23 p.m.(6/8/1014 AR)

Relationship Note on Valerius

The man lights up a room room but also intrigues me. Do I dare explore. It is sure to be interesting.

Written By Calista

Nov. 22, 2020, 12:10 p.m.(6/8/1014 AR)

My dreams have always been so brilliant and so vivid. For as long as I can remember, whether they be beautiful or terrifying, it always felt as if I were living them, standing right in the middle of them. None have been so vivid as my recent dream. I give prayers to Aion to make sense of it all. However, if there is something I have learned over the years, it is to embrace the moment and not give into the fear or the wonder. Be an observer, do not get lost in the moment. It is just a dream after all.

Written By Venturo

Nov. 22, 2020, 9:04 a.m.(6/8/1014 AR)

Relationship Note on Khanne

The Duchess was the other co-host for last eve's event. Always ready with laughter and free with her emotions, she is happy to take things as they are on the surface - even if she may not fully buy into them. To say she is the opposite of the Marquessa is not quite accurate, but certainly a perfect complement indeed for my patron. I look forward to seeing what these two get up to next.

Written By Venturo

Nov. 22, 2020, 9:02 a.m.(6/8/1014 AR)

Relationship Note on Lianne

The Marquessa was a co-host last eve at the Eidolon Gallery. A fantastic event, and the paintings and songs to be had there? Were mesmerizing. As expected, she probed, poked, sought to see how my luck might be explained by skill, cunning, wit or sheer intellect. And as always, it was a pure delight. I hope, but am not certain, that I shall see the day her options for reasoning away my serendipity runs dry. If only I could be so lucky!

Written By Ashlinn

Nov. 22, 2020, 7:40 a.m.(6/8/1014 AR)

I would write of my adventures about the Lowers last night, but the truth is, I don't remember most of it.

Except for this red-haired lass that looked like she hadn't eaten in a week, her forearm not even big around as my wrist, and I STILL lost ten silver to her in an arm-wrestling match.

Written By Noelle

Nov. 22, 2020, 7:26 a.m.(6/8/1014 AR)

I met a man whose hair was long and gold;
at least so he said before he was old.
With aged blue eyes limned with wise light
he told me the way my bad luck to right.
Now here I sit putting ink to parchment,
assured that the only cure to my ailment,
is to Vellichor's archive to submit a poem.
And if you, stranger, would help banish mayhem,
And help this bad luck sink,
then set your quill into ink,
to be one of at least thirteen
to record a poem true and serene.

Written By Ravna

Nov. 22, 2020, 6:31 a.m.(6/8/1014 AR)

Watch, watch, w-a-t-c-h.

Now you see me? Now you...

Written By Felicia

Nov. 22, 2020, 5:10 a.m.(6/7/1014 AR)

Those who doubt the existence of the Mother of Beginnings and Queen of Endings, I put to you- what do you believe happened all those years ago when She appeared to the city to warn us of the army led by Tolamar Brand that threatened all of us?

She made Her presence known, in this, Her city. And while I am neither Harlequin nor Godsworn, as a Deathspeaker I am prepared to speak on the history of our great city and its connection with the Mother to any prepared to listen with open ears.

Written By Medeia

Nov. 22, 2020, 4:27 a.m.(6/7/1014 AR)

Relationship Note on Nijah

Today I had the great pleasure of having my offer of patronage accepted by Apprentice Whisper Nijah. She is a smart young woman with a kind heart and a set of talents and skills that have equipped her to start down a vibrant path here in the city. I have great respect for the Whisper House and am pleased to be able to support one of their rising stars, someone who endured great hardship during her early years in Eurus, in learning more about Arvani society. But more importantly, we share many common values that will inform projects we undertake together. I am truly excited to see what the future has in store for us.

Written By Ripley

Nov. 22, 2020, 1:14 a.m.(6/7/1014 AR)

And just like that, upon returning from the Eidolon, I sat at my bench and I created. There was no end to the work. As swiftly as I fnished the molds for one and had to let the metal cool, I was making another. Tree's with people trapped within or at least transitioning from what there were, to what they would be. Other tree's trapping the moon within it's boughs. That came to me while I was standing outside the shop so that I could cool down. I remembered a dream, dark hands trying to catch blood and pour it back into me and then toe rings because, well, toe rings. And then another dream can now hang from the ears of someone. Sleeping youth trapped in the golden bars of crumbling and breaking away age.

So much more in my head but I am exhausted and the last piece, I burned myself with carelessness. And a skull. I made a skull. I hope it suffices, that it suits. I still need to find out about these other people. What they were like, who were they. The Archduchess Eleyna Velenosa... oh, well that may be an issue. Then the Prince Radley Valardin. Find out about this Sungreet and A woman named Arcadia. Whomever she is. There's other skulls to do. But at least the one is done. For now, back to the forge, to the heat and see if I can't try and sleep. See what that will bring me.

Written By Amari

Nov. 22, 2020, 12:04 a.m.(6/7/1014 AR)

I didn't think Waldo Bellerive would be so quick to prove that history remembers losers, as in my last entry. It's like he knew I had him and Ivan in mind when I wrote it. Going by what's already occurred, and the general sentiment in the city, this chapter will be written in blood and ash, and not soon forgotten.

Written By Valerius

Nov. 21, 2020, 11:27 p.m.(6/7/1014 AR)

Relationship Note on Lianne

I'm going to undoubtedly somehow butcher this statement, though it is meant with the highest level of praise and sincerity. The event that my Marquessa Lianne Malespero and Duchess Khanne Halfshav held at the Eidolon Gallery was one of the best gatherings I have had the pleasure of weaving through in a while. There was a synchronicity and serendipity that led a unique group to the gallery where amazing conversation was had around pieces of art that sparked further conversation following music, fashion, paintings, cake, maybe a delayed kidnapping (I jest). I'm sure that there were plenty of other conversations these are simply the conversations I was privy to. Praises to Venturo Thayne for creating another amazing brew from Raconteur Brewing. Thank you to all that came out.

Written By Sydney

Nov. 21, 2020, 10:26 p.m.(6/7/1014 AR)

Pushed myself too hard, today, and shall surely reap the consequences.

The harder you try to force yourself past your limits, the more likely you are to hurt yourself in the process. I have a tendency to get single-minded when I can feel myself getting close to my ideals. The horizon falls away, and all I can see is directly in front of myself, often to the detriment of those around me. It can be an asset as often as it's a detriment.

Tonight, there was no one about but me, so myself and my split knuckles will be forced to take a break, which is nothing if not a setback.

So it goes.

Written By Lasha

Nov. 21, 2020, 7:50 p.m.(6/7/1014 AR)

I made a mistake today, and I've found it's the best one I could've ever made. The question is, will it hurt an old man like me later on, and will I keep my calm when it ends. I set the standard low, so that I'll be pleasantly surprised.

Written By Porter

Nov. 21, 2020, 4:15 p.m.(6/6/1014 AR)

A lot of upheaval and a lot of words from a lot of people that speak them and put them to paper better than me. I have my own feelings on the words we've heard from this former Seraph Waldo of the Mourning Isles. But I don't know that they really matter, ultimately. There are those out there with a far greater grasp of the politics and the implications of all of this than me and I leave it in their hands. I wish you the best of luck navigating that mess.

I'm the best at things that are right in front of me. I can move the heavy charred beams and the broken chunks of stone. I can help sweep up glass and I can make sure that there's no more blood left on the stones, at least on the surface. I can talk to people who come through, to try and counsel them out of their grief by planting the idea that we can make something better. That through a fire of destruction, we can bring new life and hope. There can be great suffering, but by the end of it, we can have joy too.

When I look up from it, it seems like there's still an insurmountable amount of work to be done. And sometimes, I feel very tired.

Written By Sydney

Nov. 21, 2020, 4 p.m.(6/6/1014 AR)

It's hardly a secret, I should think, that with the profession I've chosen and the duration of time that I was made to perform it to scrape by, that my memory has holes in it. Awful, awful holes through which even the simplest knowledge seems to skitter down into if given enough time. The amount of times I have reintroduced myself to people as though it's the first time we've met is nothing short of appalling.

But don't make the mistake of conflating occasional confusion with a lack of mental acuity.

I am not your fool, and I am not your pawn.

Written By Cambria

Nov. 21, 2020, 2:38 p.m.(6/6/1014 AR)

I think I want a piece of gold fashioned to go around my third toe...Or maybe silver. Silver suits my complexion.

But should I choose my left foot, or my right foot? Decisions, decisions!

Oh! Or maybe an anklet. Summer is coming, after all.

I have just made things much harder for myself.

Blushing Scholar, won't you give me your opinion?

Written By Tikva

Nov. 21, 2020, 2:25 p.m.(6/6/1014 AR)

The Bard's Hymn, to be sung before the chapel walls of the Grand Cathedral, and anywhere else we need a loud voice to sing out the time. Pass out sheets of music with the notes to any of the Bard's College to distribute. Jayus bless, with all my heart, and I'm setting a donation to the Knights of Solace to cheer the efforts there. Marking time has seemed... so critical to me, and it is a strange hollow not to hear the toll of the Cathedral's bells in these past days. But we can sing like the bells, can't we? I know I can.

________
[Pianissimo]
The bells ring not, and the hours pass--
Do you mark them?

The bells ring not, and the silence falls--
Will we break it?

The work begun, toil coming to us all
Will it finish?

[Fortissimo]
We stand loyal to the gods, to the last--
Will you join us?

Each hour comes-- When does it end?
Each minute ticks, I count it not
Each day breaks, and gods forfend
any missing time, any lost seconds caught.

The bells ring not, the belfry's still
but if our voices sing our will
we sing our hymnals, sing all our parts
mark the hours, by our hearts

[Crescendo, to finis]
Sing with me now, we'll be the bells
We'll mark the hours and toll what tells
The work will grow, with hope alive,
and our faith and strength will yet survive.

Written By Rylan

Nov. 21, 2020, 1:23 p.m.(6/6/1014 AR)

Sweet threads once parted, ever rejoined

Silk and satin never to shroud the same foot
Parted, separated by cruel edict of man
Sock and slipper set asunder through law
Such comfort denied by fashion ban

Oh joy, oh rapture, reason prevails!
Fabrics reunited on that most sturdy extremity
Let no man separate the sock and slipper
Given freedom to unite once more, and for eternity

Note from the author: No, I cannot say this is the most eloquent or enduring piece I have ever written, but. It seemed that this notable event should be celebrated.

Written By Rane

Nov. 21, 2020, 1:18 p.m.(6/6/1014 AR)

I had not intended on writing of this as it is a moment of great shame. But I can actually /do/ little else but write and I have been well-tended by so many in recent days because of it, that honor demands action.

Some days ago, I aided in the clearing of rubble at the Great Cathedral, along with many others. An accident occurred when I lost my footing and beam I had lifted fell on my left hand pinning it, breaking many of the bones. Dame Bree Harthall and Rowenova helped to free me. Princess Sorrel Thrax and Lady Esme Fidante were nearby as well and it was surely evident that I went into shock from it. Princess Sorrel, Lady Esme and Dame Bree saw me to the House of Solace where a Physician, Haptenna, saw to my hand. She set fingers, applied a poultice and wrapped the handed. Her bedside manner was less than pleasing, but she did not set unrealistic expectations. There is a chance I lose my hand.

And it was on hearing that and dwelling over it that the shame occurs as I begin to doubt. Doubt that my faith would be strong enough to see me through this trial, whatever the outcome. Doubt that I would be able to serve Gloria, the Oathlanders, my House, my wife. What is a warrior without his hands? He may never lose that spirit, but he will never fight with the same effectiveness. If this is to be a time of change for me, Gloria, let me be ready. If this is a test of faith, may my resolve strengthen.

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