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Written By Tikva

May 7, 2022, 1:42 a.m.(8/7/1017 AR)

The road to Artshall is long, and in high summer, the further you head west and south, the hotter the day seems to grow, or maybe it was just today. Rather than the clustered forests and fragrant meadows of my second home, or the rocky pinnacles and ocean crashing of my first, we took a break for lunch surrounded by reams of lush farmland with the scent of corn on the air and a thousand plump peaches in the fertile orchards of worked by the serfs on the greater outskirts of the duchy's lands, and we shared bread and meat with the knights at the Solace station house where several strapping Oathlands-born women told us stories about the old duke, whom they served when Legate Cassandra was no priest but next in line to rule here.

I've never been here before, and I didn't realize how close their lands were to the Lyceum. I promised that I would find fine presents for all the children while we are at Lady Mabelle's festival, and I'm excited to see the spectacle. Confessor Warren complains constantly about being so far from the city because we are out of our jurisdiction, as though if he can't make an arrest while he's here, he'll be trapped in a doldrum. He evidently has a secret mission from the Master of Questions, but I have a very strong suspicion that his secret mission is to obtain honey candy for Princess Pietra and Princess Kieri while I am not looking . . .

Journeying makes me pensive but the festive nature of it all makes me happy and I am ever grateful both to the steady hand of our hosts for ensuring that we will undertake no threat while we are guests here at Artshall and to the protective hold of Solace upon the roads. The Knights by Gild's grace enable so much civilized travel that it would be so easy to take for granted.

Even the air tastes different so far out in the country, and I've sung so many traveling songs I'm afraid I've gone quite hoarse. Can't stop me now, though.

Written By Esme

May 6, 2022, 6:33 p.m.(8/7/1017 AR)

Most Beloved Reader,

I am so happy and honored that you decided to read my whites! Thank you for that and I hope you have all the blessings of Gods in your life. I don't really have a certain reason to write today, I just felt the need to put down words.

We travel so much in life even if we never leave the house of our birth. We travel through time and through ideas. We change as the people we were to the ones we are. It is exciting. I know that life is always faster than we thought. I know there are times that we have been hurt, that our heart yearned, that we were lost - but my darlings, we heal, we find, we are found. Do not forget that you are very loved. You are very wanted. You are worthy. You are the perfect you that have ever been and ever will be. You are the only you. Don't let the judgments of others tell you differently, your soul may have been through the Wheel before, but that is not who you are to be. You are just loved and I want to remind those to love as you have been.

We choose every day what words to use, what things to do -- let us not forget the Concepts of the Gods. Let us not forget to choose love and kindness as well as honor and duty. Also, let us not hide behind them when it is time to make decisions and to wear our armor as we should.

Until the next words - I am blessed to be able to share your journeys. Thank you to those that have let me do that in person or shared here so that I might see the impacts upon your lives. I am humbled by it.

With all my affection.

Written By Denica

May 6, 2022, 5:15 p.m.(8/6/1017 AR)

So many cookies and not a single one to eat!

What nonsense is this?

Written By Celine

May 6, 2022, 2:49 p.m.(8/6/1017 AR)

Every now and then, and quite unintentionally, someone teaches me something about myself that quite takes my breath away. You'd think by now I'd know myself better.

Written By Giada

May 6, 2022, 2:05 p.m.(8/6/1017 AR)

That damn raccoon is going to be the death of me. Sure, he's nocturnal, but I am not. I can still hear his constant chittering.

Written By Lisebet

May 6, 2022, 1:09 p.m.(8/6/1017 AR)

Every day there are messengers, some indifferent, some eager. Each bearing a missive of some kind from someone - an acquaintance, a friend, family, someone wishing to learn something or to share some information they have found. Each a treasure in its own way, something I continue to cherish. The details themselves are too small to record here - and gods forbid I should write one of those books that detail every last penny spent over decades - reading so dry it sends me looking for today's cup of tea without even opening a book.

And yet, sometimes out of those very dry and unassuming books, we glean information on the past, something that we did not know before or had forgotten.

Those are moments worth treasuring.

Written By Erik

May 6, 2022, 5:27 a.m.(8/5/1017 AR)

Yesterday, I was asked if I have found something which is stronger than my Wanderslust as I have been lingering in the city.
At one point, I would have said outright no.
I am not so sure anymore.

Written By Pasquale

May 6, 2022, 1:07 a.m.(8/5/1017 AR)

Raja and I have been working to make an alaricite bow together. To make it interesting we’ve decided that each component needs to have an adventure, or story, behind it. Having considered the materials that good bows are made from I figure we need horn, sinew, sharkskin and strips of appropriate timber. Other materials go into the making of a composite bow of course but trying to make a grand adventure out of components like fish glue just seems a little excessive. These are the ones we are focusing upon.

I found the legend of a great white shark called Squall who has been terrorizing the coast of the Lyceum lately. Those tales said that it could eat a ship and its crew up in a single bite. It wasn’t quite that formidable but it was powerful enough that when I put an arrow in its eye its thrashing caused both Zoey and I to fall on the whaling vessel whilst the hunting crew in the whaler’s boat (Raja, Lord Ian, Lady Nebulosa and Lord Haakon) were nearly tipped into the water. Only Haakon’s quick actions kept Raja from being swept along into the mouth of the creature by her daggers. It’s death throws did turn the whaler’s boat into tindling in the end and it seemed we might almost lose the more armored of the team to the ocean rather than the shark. Fortunately Cabot and his crew were as talented as promised and each of them were fished out of the water before the gory job of hauling that massive carcass began.

I have my sharkskin. Now I just need to find a suitable source for the sinew and horn.

And I need to heal first. Something in my chest gave out when I took that tumble and it is not interacting well with my cough.

Written By Isolde

May 5, 2022, 7:06 p.m.(8/5/1017 AR)

I struggle to find the words to express sorrow to those who have lost their spouses to wolf attacks, especially in the Lyceum. I can say this though.

The strength you muster in these moments will benefit you going forward.

Written By Aureth

May 4, 2022, 4:28 p.m.(8/2/1017 AR)

For the last eight years or so, I have intermittently in my musings and wanderings through the Great Archive come across a white journal that included references from a scholar who thought they were funny by recording writings from dictation in the Whites that were clearly not intended to be included, i.e., "Why are you writing down whatever I am saying," "please stop," et cetera, et cetera. It did not cross my desk in any formal way and frankly I had much larger fish to fillet, and in fact, still do so, but this person had the misfortune today to be doing so with a young lady while I happened to be walking by. It turns out, the joke was ultimately not on her, or me.

I am happy to report that the scholar in question will no longer be including any "funny business" in the Whites, as they have been summarily fired from their honorable post for disrespect to Vellichor's holy archive and the duty we expect of the Faithful.

I shall be directing the Archlector of Petrichor to find them a post in the heart of the Oathlands, where the local laypersons will surely do me the honor of instructing this priest in the seriousness of his oaths and the importance of recorded history in the annals of the Faith.

Should anyone still working in the archives decide it would be cute to copy this behavior, I am certain that, with this entry in the Whites -- Archscholar Oswyn will ensure that the scholars are warned that I don't think it's cute.

No, of course you can still write down plainly rhetorical devices from people entering their Whites. If anyone is genuinely confused about the behavior to which I refer, I invite you to soak your head in a cold bucket before you come and ask me about it. It will do us both a world of good.

Written By Celine

May 4, 2022, 3:27 p.m.(8/2/1017 AR)

Relationship Note on Mabelle

My feet carried me today into the Dire Bee, and there I found Lady Mabelle, knee-deep in preparations for the Artshall Arts Festival. We spent an enchanting hour in conversation and I was privileged to enjoy a sneak preview of the gown that she's designed for the occasion. I won't elaborate on it here in the Whites, because it will speak for itself when it's showcased. In Lady Mabelle I've discovered a friend, and I look forward to where this friendship might lead us.

Written By Cristoph

May 4, 2022, 12:55 p.m.(8/2/1017 AR)

Relationship Note on Jael

I finally willed myself to sort your things in the estate in Arx.

I took that painting, you know the one. I took it and I put it in the main hall with all the other art.

Some people light candles when they're waiting for someone to come home. But I suspect a good bit of sibling aggravation does just as fine a job.

Written By Ember

May 4, 2022, 5:33 a.m.(8/1/1017 AR)

Relationship Note on Saverio

Though my marriage to Count Saverio Redreef, nee Lord Saverio Inverno, lasted only a month before his passing, our courtship carried on both formally and informally for some four years. In that time, the man who would become my husband saw in me things about me that I did not recognize, and helped me to see them in myself as well. That is what I will forever remember about him: his ability to keenly perceive that which others did not.

In those years of knowing him, only once did I ever see fear or dread cross his features. Only once did I ever see him surprised or awestruck. Those times were not the same incident, either. Even when he faced down death as a monstrous wolf attacked his new family in the Redreef Estate, he did not show fear. He fought for his life and nearly succeeded in besting the creature that killed him. It was not enough, but had his life not been sacrificed, a half-dozen members of my family would surely have died as well.

Count Saverio mostly infuriated and vexed me. He always knew the perfect thing to say to set me off-kilter, or pierce a weak point in my armor that I didn't even realize was there. He could always notice what others didn't. I doubt that I will ever know another person who will ever be so capable of so effortlessly making me angry to the degree that Count Saverio made me angry. There was grace and talent in the way he seemed to not even need to try.

I don't have anything else to write. He's dead now. He was torn in half at the waist, in front of me, and I hugged the top half of his body to myself as the world spun around me. Then the world stopped spinning, and now I must continue on with things without him. In that, he's found one last and perfect way to make me livid.

Written By Graziella

May 3, 2022, 3:49 p.m.(7/28/1017 AR)

"And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here –

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down –

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing – then –"

No, Scholar, it isn't my writing but it does speak to me... a curious poem. Such a strange sentiment, I wonder what it means?

Written By Harlex

May 3, 2022, 9:34 a.m.(7/28/1017 AR)

It was late and I was trying to walk back to the Estate, enjoy a smoke, listen to the city when it's quiet for a damn change. All the sudden I saw a bug-eyed lord, drunk off his ass, leap into a bush.

Causing a commotion about a wolf man. Something about 'tell my wife I'll stop going to the grotto three times a day.'

Foolishness. Flicked my smoke at him, told him to get, and he went off hollering thanks.

For folks who love their cups, some of these Lycene sure get lost in them.

Written By Mabelle

May 3, 2022, 5:49 a.m.(7/28/1017 AR)

I'm overwhelmed by the number of artists and volunteers eagers to perform at the Patronsday Art Festival.
Can you imagine? I might actually just sit there and be pretty.

Written By Lenard

May 2, 2022, 11:46 p.m.(7/27/1017 AR)

Thirteen gods, four triads and one Faith. A mystery for us to explore and in each of the gods we can aspire to some virtue they hold.

Written By Sydney

May 2, 2022, 6:27 p.m.(7/27/1017 AR)

Someone told me once that loss aches less with age, time, and experience.

I reject this. Those who spew such prattle are merely referring to their ability to wall off their hearts over time, until they feel less, less, then nothing at all. A cold comfort to give to anyone who is in any stage of grief. Assurances that future losses will hurt me less does nothing for the wounds I'm living through /now/, and while it may be true for them, I doubt very much it shall be the case for me.

I don't think myself better than anyone who has this advice to give, only cut from a different cloth. I will keep my nerves exposed, and let each cut I accumulate hurt me as it deserves to hurt me. I will not close the door to my heart, and I will not allow tears to go unshed where they're deserved.

There will always be a part of me that will question if this could have been different.

From that ache comes growth.

Written By Erik

May 2, 2022, 6:24 a.m.(7/26/1017 AR)

How peculiar, to find an unknown detail from the lyrics of a song. A whole underground kingdom was I did not even see referenced in other texts. Maybe there is not only sand in the Wastes but in my eyes as well.

Written By Mabelle

May 2, 2022, 4:39 a.m.(7/25/1017 AR)

There is a limit to the grieving one's heart can do without becoming permanently crippled.

Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.

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