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Artistic Ambiguity

Most Esteemed Abbot Euphonus –

Good News! The Fortress Monastery in Stragosa is about to be consecrated. I already burn with ideas. I have an inkling of a notion that to inspire more, I need to move away from this focus on specificity and return to grander, more ambiguous ideas. To inflame the passions of everyone involved in a grand moment of history or a grand theme of art could inspire both those who love goodness as well as those who hate impurity. In any case, I will send you my notes as I compile them. Perhaps you will feel inclined to share your discoveries here with us as well. There is still so much to do!

In Homage to Benalus and with Honor to the Emperor and under the guidance of the memory of Padre Pietro,

Alonzo d’ Melano
Bard Laureate of Silbran

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To El Maestro di Mille Delize

To El Maestro di Mille Delize
I have done as you have asked and learned some fascinating things. Despite having followed them and learned what I could, I learned much less than I expected. I was surprised to find their information gathering skill the same or higher than my own. But despite this, I have still learned much. Their current practice and occupation seems the least of their skills. They are a skilled craftsman and inventor, who’s focus seems lit on the incendiary. Specifically those outside the techniques of Capacionne-born technology. But I also learned that if they are capable beyond natural means of creating this fire, they are unrelated to the guild. Unfortunately I was unable to determine the full truth of their abilities. Additionally, I have been told that their current services are quite addictive, though they had few, if any, customers at this last gathering. Unfortunately I don’t know how much of that is innuendo or if it just emphasizes the skill of their practice. I know they prefer wine to beer, and the current deal they have arranged with the Farmer’s Daughter.
Despite my small harvest, what I did learn has given me much to think about. I don’t know how much you knew about them before, but I hope that this service has been performed adequately.
With Regards,
The Friends of the Orange Baron.

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Humorous Songs of Stragosa

Dearest mother,

as I learned from my youth in our household, you have always been fascinated by the forms of expression that constitute ‘art’ in cities and cultures far away from our own. To give you a better impression of the macabre and frankly crass moods that are evoked in the scummy taverns of Stragosa, I enclose a transcript of a most… unsuitable song performed in the recent past. Despite its allusions, please rest assured that the bards were investigated by the Inquisition and found to be devoid of any heresy. It was meant to be a comedic tinge. I found it disturbing and alarming, and clearly the Prosecutor present at that time felt the same way, for he immediately produced a ball of fire in his palm, stalking towards the bard. Now that, and I cannot emphasize this highly enough, was highly amusing.

Without much further ado, here is a transcript of this humorous song. At the end of the letter, I shall also enclose a more sombre sonnet that I composed myself after the departure of a certain lady. I feared for her death at the time, but even moreso feared for her undead return.

==

(Gothic Paradise)

As I ride through Stragosa where I Master the Coin,
I take a look at Borso’s pouch, and realize that he’s purloined,

The city’s resources and labour and time,
Which to my mind surely is an Imperial crime,

But that’s just typical for a Hestrali like him,
Who despite their fashion, wine and music are just a bit dim.

At 2:30 in the morning I’m diggin’ graves,
Charming maidens, fighting zombies, and dissin’ knaves,

I’ve been charmin’ and fighting so long that,
Even fire mages think that my mind is gone.

I’m a noble of the land, I’m into Benalian faith,
And one day I’ll find and marry my perfect soul mate,

But if I finish farming, reaping and building this iron mine,
Then tonight we’re gonna party like it’s Lion Age 599.

We been spending most our lives
Living in a Gothic paradise,
Farmed canvas more than thrice,
Living in a Gothic paradise,
Burned some heretics, it was nice,
Living in a Gothic paradise.

A local scum boy tried to steal my pouch last week,
I just smiled at him and my knight stabbed him in the cheek,

I ain’t never punched a Njord even if he deserved it,
A Gothic noble striking smelly fur bois? That’s unheard of.

I never wear white, no — I always wear black,
And all the lonely ladies agree that my knight is a snacc

If you do come to Stragosa you’ll likely turn up dead,
Because monsters will find you, even asleep in your bed.

Got here last year but feels like most our lives,
Living in a Gothic Paradise
Turns out corsets are full of knives,
Living in a Gothic Paradise.
Been Tarrantist once or twice,
Living in a Gothic Paradise.

==

(A Sonnet to Spectres)

Last isthmus I gave you my chart
the very next day
you sank to your grave
This year
a ghost ship appears
you turned into something spectral

==

EvV, Lion Age 604

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A Plea for Release

Dated a full month after the conclusion of November’s Forum, after his Raven reporting success in his orders to recover Zurihim Artifacts, Sir Connor sends another Raven to his Liege; Count Archibald.

“Your Grace,

I trust that in the time that has passed, the successful delivery of the Zurihim artifacts has reached Lord Romulous Archibald in the University, and study is underway. It was a great honour to serve House Archibald in this manner, and further discoveries of great historical value will most certainly continue to be shared with the University.

It is with humility at this time, however, that I request that you consider releasing me from my Oath of Fealty without sanction. My service to House Archibald has been a great privilege, and your willingness to elevate me to Nobility was beyond anything I dreamed of. Yet, I now feel a pull in my very soul that my path leads me to service to Benalus as a member of the Church of Mankind.

The glory that I have achieved through recent Triumph, and fulfillment of my Oath of Merit, I hereby offer unto the House and Order as Influence to be done with as you see fit.

Be my request accepted or declined, I await your response in Stragosa with the expediency you deem appropriate.

-Sir Connor Rosewood,
Knight Errant of the White Ravens”

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A letter to Mother Elizabeth Daunce of the Lurihim

Dearest Cousin,

I pray that this letter finds you well. I have now been in Stragosa for nearly a year and a half, and I must admit that though I am getting settled there are still things which constantly surprise me. I have been made a District Magistrate, which is an exciting new responsibility, and have been responsible for hosting a number of important city events, so it seems that uses for my skills do exist here. Stragosa is a place unlike any other that I have ever experienced, or even heard of. There is great potential here, great possibilities for the combined skills and strengthens of mankind’s nations to create something unique, something that truly befits the Throne of God on Earth. But there is also much to do to make that possible, for, while Stragosa may hold a diversity of people and possibilities, it also holds a mind-boggling array of difficulties. There seems to be a dearth of peasants willing to work the land, likely in part due to the sheer number of malefic in and around the city, not to mention the mass of Kuarlites that remain in the valley. There are efforts to mount a great campaign to eliminate the heretics, but as every Rogalian knows, armies do not march on empty stomachs-and of course, much of the potential farmland in the valley goes unworked for a lack of knowledgeable farmers. And so it goes. It seems that, like a tangled ball of yarn, pulling one string to free it only tightens other knots. I can only pray that being here in my youth shall make me a stronger ruler in my own right someday-at the very least, I suppose, I will have experience facing some rather challenging issues.

It’s not as though things are terrible here, though. I have made friends among the representatives of a handful of Rogalian houses, and am working to form alliances, or at least individual friendships, with members of houses from elsewhere in the Throne. Naturally, much of the rulership here is Gothic. I sometimes wonder if they don’t quite know what to make of me-it seems that even in my most serious and somber moments I am far more emotive than they. At the very least, I feel I am developing a good working relationship with them, and am hopefully proving my worth through my efforts. Alas, the one thing this valley seems to lack is men of high birth looking for a marriage match, so I suppose I shall continue waiting for father to find the correct match for me. I will confess to a bit of jealousy watching the various little romances and courtships blossom around me, but perhaps that simply isn’t within what God has planned for me.

Pray for me, cousin, that I may find wisdom to make good and godly decisions in this endlessly complicated place, and pray for the whole of the Stragosa valley, that we may weather the upcoming challenges of the winter. As always, you are in my prayers.

May God watch over us all,

Alexandra

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The Soul and Its Burdens

Blessings Unto Our Lord Benalus Who Protects Us All,

Brethren, it has been commanded to me by the Seventeenth Preceptor of The Tower to write down these words. May Durna strike at the hands of any who would steal this book. May Manach’s doors be ever closed.

It is said that the soul has many parts and that those parts can be seen in every part of life, from the smallest of vermin unto the greatest of Kings. Gratus of Merlanda said it thus: “The animal knows its own life – vir, it knows its needs – apetite, it knows its options – instinct.”

From Gratus we can see that the next step is the Common Man – The common man has all of the attributes of an animal, but those attributes have grown into the Human Qualities.

Vir remains although some amongst the benighted call it Corpus or Flesh. We contend that that is an insufficient category to describe the entirety of the lifeforce that is the physical body and so we will continue to use the ancient Vir to describe what we are attempting to explain.

Appetite grows to the Human Quality of – Meaning. The Human has more than just the essential appetites required for survival. Meaning encompasses all of the things that make a Human live in an appropriate way. While everyone must eat food and drink water, Meaning is unique for each Human. Thus we see the vast multitude of ways to live in our Blessed Kingdom.

From Instinct grows the Human Quality of – Act. Knowing one’s options and strategies to survive grows into the ability to plan and think into the future. The Holy Towers of Menach, may his Name rise up forever, cannot be built on instinct alone, no matter what that fool Ablatius thinks. To Act is to secure one’s Meaning. When these two Human Qualities interact all things can be accomplished.

Now we turn to the Difficulties of the Burdened.

Those amongst us who are born to Rule and to Teach can at times find themselves Burdened by a surfeit of these Human Qualities that can, if not dealt with carefully, become Consuming.

The Hero’s Vir can become Wyrd if they sacrifice the Vir to accomplish the tasks set before them. The Meaning can become sacrificed to the Purpose of the task set before them. The Act can become Judgement when the needs of all must be placated over the needs of the Hero. Hark well, those who would take upon them the Burdens of State – the sacrifices are Great and the suffering is Deep.

This is why we must Honor but also Watch those who would take on the Burden for the benefit of us all. Do not take on the Burden unless you are called to it, for it will burn you to Nothing in time.

Glory and Honor to Our Protector King Benalus on this First Year of His Reign
Glory and Honor to Dread Manach, May His Name Conquer Every Sky
Glory and Honor to Tower 5, May We Grow Forever

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Letter to Lady Alexandria Vosslyn

Dear Lady Alexandria,

It is with a sorrowful heart that I write to you.  No doubt your brother and other members of the Frateris Sanguine have told you of your father’s orders to shun you.  I do not fully understand the implications of you forging your own house, but rather than pride at your success it seems your father has been deeply wounded and feels betrayed.

I have vowed to honor your father’s wishes, and, as you know, I am a man of my word.  This does not mean I have given up on our connection as sworn companions, merely that we have been called upon to lay it aside for a time.  I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive your father his anger, and seek reconciliation with him.  Likewise, for my part, I will offer him council toward forgiveness and reconciliation when he is ready to hear it.

Graf Trakt has made an exception to his request to cease all collaboration for me to fulfill my spiritual duties.  That means should you wish to discuss matters of faith, the burdens you carry as a noblewoman, or the disposition of your soul, I remain at your service.  Likewise, when it comes to all things pertaining to the Malefic, I am free to seek you out.  We can continue to discuss your dreams, and so forth.

Sincerely,

Sir Ansel Rundelhaus, Knight Protector, Ever Vigilant Order of Templars

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Reverie and Writing

He sits at his desk, this place of peace surrounded by the pounding of metal and the sawing of wood. He turns the crank on the little treasure box that plays a tune he hasn’t heard in person since his childhood.

“Ho finito con il mio cuore senza grazia. Stasera ho intenzione di ritagliarlo e poi ricominciare…”

A whore’s lament, pulling at heartstrings. The heart of the Mask and Shield. Compassion for the lowest, the broken.

He begins to write –

“Sir Emeric,

The moment when the music took me was so surprising. I have been transported by music before, but I also saw the tears in your eyes. I could see how you were tied to Mankind then, how you have shouldered the Chains of Fate to bear the burden, to steer the course. I saw your true power then, unbeholden to the forces of the world that reinjure the already broken.

I have selfishly allowed myself to be misread, in my anger and my pain. I have allowed myself to prejudge those who might be allies in the healing of the world. I thought I would need to be well known to have the power to change lives, but I was squandering my work where the work itself would have been enough.

You and I will disagree more often now than ever, I’m afraid, my new brother. But trust that it will be from love, that it will be about tactics and not about the Grand Event. I am more comfortable amongst the sinners of the world than the saints, and it is in the places where people have hidden and hardened themselves to protect their Meaning that I will be found.

Thank you for your Tears,

Alonzo

———-

The music box plinks along merrily – “Scuotilo, Scuotilo, Scuotilo” Alonzo sighs, touching the blank white mask that always sits near when he is writing, turns it over to see the writing of his mother, the writing he’s written on other masks in his own time – “Diventa chi devi, rimani chi sei”

Turn, turn, and turn again.

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To Leandro Nicostratus- Costa Luceste

Leo!

I can’t tell you how many times I have set quill to paper to write you in this last year, but for once, words have failed me. These last two years have been more eventful than I ever anticipated setting foot on the rocky shores of Njordr. Visvind was a delight and, after what happened to Lile, a welcome respite from Dunland. Thanks to Ironbelly, I found some help in Mrs Gatewatch, who helped me get settled in. But you know how it is, I can’t stay in one place for very long. I was traveling with some of the goods we were transporting, on a Njord ship called Vindvald, when we were attacked by raiders from the Rimelands who drew alongside. Those of us that survived the initial attack were bundled up and tugged along after them. I learned later that our attackers were members of the Dogheart clan, though they had an emissary from the Hollow Song clan. Cannibals! They said that they would trade us as food stock, though I couldn’t really tell if they were telling the truth. Eventually Alrek, who was one of the guards originally protecting the caravan, helped me to run away. His knowledge of the forest and tundra was invaluable in the last year as we have traveled settlement to settlement trying to get back to Visvind. I have learned so much and I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that my education was Not useless. My year of botany saved our lives several times, though did nothing to stave off the cold or the wolves.

Obviously, I wasn’t going to stay in Njordr after such an experience. My string of bad luck has followed me all the way back to Costa Nera all those years ago. Do you remember that? We’d just come ashore from Le Sorelle when we were accosted by those ruffians? A long way from the Master Mercer you are now. But anyway, I decided to head to Stragosa. I have heard interesting rumors that I’d like to confirm. Besides, I hear Corvo di Talmerin, the one I met in Port Melandir, has also headed that way. Have you heard from Padraig Drust? He’s the only refugee I haven’t heard from recently. Last I heard he was working as an Arkwright in Carminia. Could you look into that?

When I arrived in Stragosa, I was met with more supernatural than I’d ever experienced before. A ghost on the road, a ghoul that attacked us from the woods, and a bear spirit that ended up killing at least four people before vanishing. It was incredible. Not the mention the fact that I got to see the Miracle in person! Father Renatus was the name of the man I think. There were a few others though. I’d be interesting in hearing what they all experienced. Anyway, I thought I owed you at least a story because it took needing something for me to write you. A Friend of the Orange Baron asked me to look into a gentleman by the name of Marius, a masseuse and engineer that just moved into Silbran. Marius is from Le Sorelle as well, though I don’t remember if he told me where in specific. I would appreciate any aid that you could give me.

Leo, I’ve missed you. Perhaps one of these days you can come visit.
Your friend,
William II

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Victory of the Soul

Dear friend Alonzo,

You caught me unawares at forum and I was unable to express my joy about your new path. I’m so glad you were as moved as I was by the Beggar King’s song. I’m so glad to be walking with others and see that same light of righteousness in you.

It’s easy to make excuses. Things that can’t be done without magic. People we have to kill or they’ll kill us. The necessity of war. Just another drink to drown our sorrows. Lying for the greater good.

It’s much harder to take the righteous path.

I do not accept the quick and easy aid of magic- not because I hate mages (I don’t) or even because I suspect it comes from dark places (I do), but because relying on it stunts our growth as a people. Invention is the holy alternative to seemingly insurmountable problems, even if it takes generations. Using magic leads to dependence on magic, and magic isn’t the righteous path.

I don’t kill. I protect and I disarm and I try to rehabilitate. And I fail sometimes. But I try.

For every task there are a thousand temptations- a thousand easier paths to accomplish our physical goals. But this world was made so that we can improve ourselves- find solutions to problems without sin. It’s our duty and our joy to be better people every day.

The path we walk is hard, but it can be easier with company. It’s with that in my mind and in my heart that I write to you. My friend, your gift touched me and brought me joy. It inspired me to further our shared dream. You have a Gift greater than any of mine- the Gift to touch the hearts of others. Will you use it? Will you make more masterpieces to inspire others to our cause?

I dream of a city filled with the righteous. Our days filled with joy and betterment. And art that reflects our path all around us. Supporting each other in our struggles and helping end sin in our time.

Write me soon, brother, or visit me.

I believe in you.
Sir Emeric Sanguine