Achaean News
In the Wake of Change
Written by: Truax Diaboli, Shield Legionnaire
Date: Thursday, December 11th, 2025
Addressed to: The Verdant Wilds of Eleusis
Understanding moves with us. Or at least it should, as we walk the world and meet its peoples. Far too often, it lags behind, and even those who have endured change forget what it felt like to live through it.
It was not all that long ago that Eleusis celebrated the day it became the locus of the Wildwood Queen's realm. Much that had been said, done, believed, and sworn before that moment drifted away like the leaves of Her autumnal visage.
Should the world still hold Eleusis to the beliefs and attitudes of those who came before? Should it cling to Guildmistress Tigrayne Lena's rebuke of the Earthmother when Her will was turned aside? Should it wind the clock back a few hundred years to when the village praised Her realm and yet insisted She held no place within it?
I do not believe any Eleusian would welcome this, nor would they expect an oath sworn by Covenant Stormcrow to stand if it conflicted with the will of the Goddess of Nature today.
In the same manner as Keleus and his wife, who grew weary of the apathy and isolationism of the Aalen Forest and sent their hopes skyward, so too did Cyrene.
The Heart of the Vashnars was not undone by curse or plague. Its people had not fallen silent from the world. It did not rise gasping from its own grave. Yet Oceanus' Gate still came forth.
A trickle woke into a clear, bright flow. A newborn spring bubbled and stirred, roused by the Sea God, and in a rush of sand and stone the Muurn and Cyrene were gently parted. That flow grew into a torrent and then into a flood, stretching outward and filling every hollow. Yet all of Cyrene remained safe, held firm within His protective will.
We look upon this new life with gratitude and joy. Attempts to shame us for this are heard, yet they do not take root. They fall instead upon His presiding waters, which lift and carry them away. The tide does not apologize to the stone it overturns. It moves onward with quiet purpose, carrying the knowledge and understanding of all it has touched.
TD
Penned by my hand on the 17th of Scarlatan, in the year 992 AF.
In the Wake of Change
Written by: Truax Diaboli, Shield Legionnaire
Date: Thursday, December 11th, 2025
Addressed to: The Verdant Wilds of Eleusis
Understanding moves with us. Or at least it should, as we walk the world and meet its peoples. Far too often, it lags behind, and even those who have endured change forget what it felt like to live through it.
It was not all that long ago that Eleusis celebrated the day it became the locus of the Wildwood Queen's realm. Much that had been said, done, believed, and sworn before that moment drifted away like the leaves of Her autumnal visage.
Should the world still hold Eleusis to the beliefs and attitudes of those who came before? Should it cling to Guildmistress Tigrayne Lena's rebuke of the Earthmother when Her will was turned aside? Should it wind the clock back a few hundred years to when the village praised Her realm and yet insisted She held no place within it?
I do not believe any Eleusian would welcome this, nor would they expect an oath sworn by Covenant Stormcrow to stand if it conflicted with the will of the Goddess of Nature today.
In the same manner as Keleus and his wife, who grew weary of the apathy and isolationism of the Aalen Forest and sent their hopes skyward, so too did Cyrene.
The Heart of the Vashnars was not undone by curse or plague. Its people had not fallen silent from the world. It did not rise gasping from its own grave. Yet Oceanus' Gate still came forth.
A trickle woke into a clear, bright flow. A newborn spring bubbled and stirred, roused by the Sea God, and in a rush of sand and stone the Muurn and Cyrene were gently parted. That flow grew into a torrent and then into a flood, stretching outward and filling every hollow. Yet all of Cyrene remained safe, held firm within His protective will.
We look upon this new life with gratitude and joy. Attempts to shame us for this are heard, yet they do not take root. They fall instead upon His presiding waters, which lift and carry them away. The tide does not apologize to the stone it overturns. It moves onward with quiet purpose, carrying the knowledge and understanding of all it has touched.
TD
Penned by my hand on the 17th of Scarlatan, in the year 992 AF.