Never Again Forget - Saint Merielle Silene

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED FOURTY-SECOND ENTRY]

So goes the roll of the days, in gentle passing. I am becoming more guarded in my actions and words, especially since so many look now on them as dictation. It is daunting at times, the honor that others hold me to, but I am learning to balance it steadily now. I even grow used to Rente’s constant note taking. It is a bit strange to deal with him as of late. At least it is improving. He actually put the notebook away for a bit, treated me more as a human than as some object. It was truly refreshing. He is a good man with good intent. He is also loyal to the Ilmatari. He takes the task Father Melder has given him most seriously.

I cannot help but find irony in our friendship. In the first of it, well we could not be farther apart. I trying desperately to defend my own principles, and he all but calling me blasphemous. Oh how we grated each other then. The passion so akin to anger in our earlier interactions. Our screaming matches. As unfortunate as they were, I am glad those days are passed us. The irony is in that he may well now be the most insistent of my new status as Living Saint. His voice may well be the loudest in favor of me, and he is dangerously quick to jump to my defense… It is because they think so highly of me that my actions must be so guarded. I do pray they learn there is more to Ilmater than enduring suffering, if I can accomplish that much, then I can be content.

I see so many new initiates who believe we are to suffer, by our hand or continuously for others. They fail to see that compassion is our duty, that we are to -ease- all suffering. All. There is more to mercy than forbearance of pain. Laughter, the spreading of joy. The easing of pains of the heart or mind, mending the spirit as well as the body. Offering forgiveness and second chances. All of these, friendship, kindness, generosity, all the things that bring us joy, good work, and good works, all of these are Mercy. In our duty we ease suffering, we share mercy in all aspects. When needs must we endure. But never do we endure alone. Always is Ilmater with us. Always must we keep our faith close to our hearts, and take comfort in it when the need arises. Faith is strength, without it we cannot find our path, we cannot keep unwavering that path.

If in all the things I can be called by the time I pass to Mount Martyrdom: Slave, Harlot, Witch and worse… Faithful, Chosen, Saint and more such I may never deserve… May I be forever content with these: Beloved, Friend… Teacher, and all those given by those dearest to me. Ever I am the Willing Servant of Ilmater, where my faith and my heart bid me tread, so shall be my path, and for now my path is to show them the way that is Mercy…
~~

The days have been kind of late, as have many people. An extremely large portion of food was anonymously donated to the temple. Among such was a large quantity of peaches. I am just now getting through the majority of it. The whole temple has a marvelous odor of peach cobbler and pretty much whatever I can make that will keep them from having a chance to spoil. It is nice though as I enjoy the work very much. Its not a garden, but it will do. I cannot help but smile. Joy comes easy of late, as does laughter. Even sleep, while restless is easier to return to once I wake. I think this is the closest to peace that I have been in a long time. My heart is most content.

It is not just me either. Jonas seems to be seeking a lighter path as well. Selah is in a near constant state of wry humor and wit, her joviality is often contagious. Joan while constantly -bored- is also in good spirits. So many dear friends and so many of them are doing well. Joan and Selah, friendships turned sisterhood through all we have faced together, have been a boon to my own spirit beyond nature. And this adopted family of mine seems to grow. Jonas has extended an honor of sorts, no longer does he call me Sister… but -sister-. There is joy more abundant than I have seen in so long… I have seen many of late want for kinder paths, and ask for my help. By all that is mercy, if I can help them find light, I will.

There are troubles yes, talk of demon cultists, trouble with necromancers, thieves and banditry, whispers of other sinister things that have yet to fully reveal the nature of their threat, but I think we are ready to face it. Dustin seems to have a knack for trouble, and he and Trent continue to squabble. I pray peace will find them. Truly I do. The whole of the coast seems different to me now since the fall of the Bhaalist temple. We endured, and in doing, emerged changed. Bittersweet as it was, I see many who wish to move forward… to mend and find contentment with what remains. Light shines more brightly now that shadows do not hold such sway.

Duty allowed time to finish some things for Joan, and make some birthday cake. A walk turned into an impromptu birthday party. Fortunately I had made muffins, and the birthday cake ahead of time. Several brought drinks, and there were enough jovial minstrels to keep spirits high well until morning. Poor Joan danced until she literally fell out. She spent the last half of her birthday party sleeping peacefully. Still it was a grand thing to see so much laughter. Though there may have been a bit too much drinking and likely many will have headaches come morning. Dimsdale made several admirably Dwarven attempts to get me to drink. I humored him by taking a few sips from the bottle of wine he gifted me. I worked on my embroidery, and on keeping my motor skills in good use.

As the dancing and eating of desserts, and of course the drinking faded, people went, cheerfully exhausted, to seek rest. Now that my prayers are tended, and things are well in the temple, both Joan and Selah sleeping off their drinks, I think I too shall rest. Keeping up with my dear sisters is... tiring to say the least. I think I laughed enough my sides will hurt for a tenday.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED FOURTY-THIRD ENTRY]

Today I think was fairly productive. I took a walk, a long one. Without worry for the setting sun, or fear of a knife in my back. I had forgotten the sounds of nature, truly, for I was so absorbed in listening for tell tale signs of footsteps or uneasy whispers. I had forgotten the song of birds and the whisper of the breeze. The quiet calm may be something to get used to, but something I could gladly do. It is not completely without worry. There is constant danger on the Tradeway. I am forever coming across the overconfident or the unwary, who has fallen to the danger of the coast. Also, there are still plenty of reasons for me to be watchful. As with much of my troubles, it will pass in time.

The gentleman that has been staying at the temple, the one that was somehow poisoned with vampire blood, but not so turned… is recovering well now. Once again, brainstorming and prayer between Sister Abby and I have brought about a good end. To combine her field medicine, and practical measures with the divine aspects of my own methods, and with a great deal of help from Brother Rente, and many hours of careful prayer… the tainted blood was removed, cleansed, and returned to him, the body restored. No doubt now he will further recover much of his strength. I feared for a moment we would lose him. Mercy smiled upon us, however. With the taint removed, perhaps he will regain enough strength that he may function more properly. I still wish I knew more of him… his circumstance is largely unknown to me. What I have heard are bits and pieces that do not make sense. The ones who might understand more, I have yet to speak with, and I cannot even say for certain that they have all the answers.

I extended to Rente a measure of trust. Perhaps if he sees what he holds up so high, he will let it back down where it should be. Besides, maybe the sooner his curiosity is satisfied, and his task is completed… the sooner he can resume seeing me as a person. He sees me as something greatly treasured, but not the way a friend or a loved one would treasure a person. His loyalty is unfailing. Frightening to think that an idea can hold such sway. More so than any who was not of Bhaal or Bane, this man had stood against me, and now I fear he would walk to the stars if I asked him. That kind of sway over people is petrifying. Ilmater be with me that I may never abuse that which is granted me. Still, great things can be done. It gives many much hope.

I will not say that what I gave him allowance to do was easy. I know by the time he finishes navigating my heart and my mind, he will no longer hold me to such heights. At least by the end of this, I cannot say they see me as something falsely, with honor undeserved. If when all is said and done they still wish to hold me in such regard then they will do so, and I will argue it not. First, let him make his notes, let him see the whole of it. It may well be the only way I can feel this honor is granted deservingly. At least his questions have been gentle so far.

‘Take care where you tread Brother for you walk upon my heart and mind in the asking of such a thing. I wonder if you will hate your saint once you know her?’

‘Never!’

I was shocked by the finality with which he said so, as he was by the weight of my own question. This shall be an interesting discourse to say the very least of it.

‘Do not say never dear, not without knowing the whole of it.’

The look he gave me left much to thing of. Nerve-wracking as all of this has been, perhaps something good will come of it? I pray at least as much. What will be, shall be, and in the end of it, I have always obeyed Ilmater. Never will I waver, never will I fail. Through whatever comes to pass, I am and ever will be the Willing Servant. My vows and practices are not traditional, my path is far from traditional. I will do the best I am able, and in that I will content. I have much to find joy in. My faith is my strength, hope’s light shines bright, and in the end of it all, I see only Mercy.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED FOURTY-FOURTH ENTRY]

I have let the span of days pass by too long without putting my thoughts to parchment. In truth it was because I was unsure how to give words to my thoughts at all. It was perhaps because there have been fewer thoughts and more emotions. There have been the usual strings of injuries and illnesses to treat, long hours in prayer, meals to prepare and such. Most of the time passes peacefully, save the moments when the never-ending conflict between Trent and Dustin rears its ugly head. Those two frustrate me. In part it is because I know they both have the capability to be better people, and choose not to. Each time we think we have it resolved, they come up with more reasons to hate each other. I fear the only resolution that may come, will be the death of one or both sides.

One of several reminders that I cannot save all from themselves. I can only guide them, I cannot walk their paths for them. Which brings to mind my more recent issue. Rente. He sees it as though he is the only one who holds to some degree of reverence my Saint-hood, meanwhile everyone else seems to only see that he holds no thought for my humanity. I will admit that at times his impartiality, the analytical nature with which he views me is unnerving. I know he means no ill by it. I know there are responsibilities that come with this, certain expectations and considerations, but I am still who I was before. It did not change me, but add to what was already there. It did not take away what I was and replace it with something else.

I have found some sort of balance between Merielle the woman, and Merielle of Ilmater. Meri the friend exist along side Meri the living saint. My faith and my heart guide me still, even more now. Things need not be continuously formal or informal. Duties will be done, life will continue. I live in hope and faith, I endure as needs must. Perhaps the most frightening part of this is the effect it has on others. I know I will not lose myself to it, and nor will I seek to abuse the measures it grants me. It boggles me, the number of people willing to kneel and pledge service. It worries me how Rente is so quick to jump to my defense in such extreme measures too.

He has yelled at Jonas, and others, for not respecting my ‘divinity’ or my title. Respect is grand, but I will not trade the friendships, the endearments, the humanity of my own existence, for the sake of formality. Rente needs guidance, he is far too unsure of his steps on his own path. My frustration over the cold manner in which he approaches the most personal aspects of who I am has not helped. Then of course top that off with Joan and Selah’s relentless mischief… the poor man doesn’t know how to offer himself the mercy of enjoying the life he has to live… He is uncomfortable in situations that require anything but bookish fact an analysis. He also has difficulty offering himself other mercies, and it is my hope to teach him such… If I can convince him to place his steps on the right path.

Convincing is one thing, he asks for orders. Always orders, which drives me mad. It is not my place to command his life or the life of any other. He especially, but he is not the only one. There are far too many that are far too willing to live or die or worse at my behest. I will not become some noblewoman with a plethora of slaves at my command! I will not order them about like children. That is not my place or my duty. I wonder though if for his sake, I should not grant him the rigid structure he asks for. I will not lie when I say I probably should have endured this more gracefully for his sake. In some way I feel I have failed him.

I pray the strength and wisdom to set this straight and set him on a right path. He has stepped away from his apprenticeship to Jonas since he and Selah fought. She still bears the bruise from the slap he landed in his anger and frustration. He has been drinking heavily since then. I tried to speak with him last night, and while some progress was made it still ended in me leaving frustrated, unable to continue because I feared my words would lack the mercy needed. He asked my permission to resume his custom of self-flagellation. I could not grant such, not ever. Ilmater does not bid us suffer by our own hand. We are commanded to ease suffering in all its forms. Taught to embrace mercy in all ways. The world inflicts enough pain without help… Loviatar must have smiled as he asked more than once, my leave to do such. I will not let him fall so far from that which is Mercy.

His redemption will be difficult, but it will be. I will help him find the path he should walk. I will guide with a gentle hand, but I will not turn him into some mindless thrall afraid to choose for himself. Order and structure is one thing… the complete loss of one’s will is another. I will pray, and I will not give up on it. He will learn to trust his own faith and his own heart, and then he will understand…

For now, my prayer and meditations are for him, and any other who may need them. Mercy of Ilmater keep them, guide them. Grant me the means to teach them that the Hand of Mercy is ever at their backs, that all are worthy of mercy in one measure or another. There is mercy in forgiveness… in second chances… In friendship and in love… in joy and light and hope… in comfort and compassion… in healing in peace and in truth, and mercy enough for each. There is strength in faith. May mine be strong enough for them until they too can carry their own faith, harbor their own light of hope, walk their own paths and find peace for themselves.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED FOURTY-FIFTH ENTRY]

I returned from my long walk. I think it is safe to say my boots are well broke in. I left the city with a prayer on my lips, taking only some water, some rations and a change of clothes, I closed my eyes and began walking. Mercy guided my steps, and kept me safe. I needed little in those days of walking. I feared no highwaymen, nor bandit, heard no voice but Ilmater’s and thus I walked. When I had heard what I needed to hear, and spoke as I needed to, he turned my steps homeward.

I found things in good order on my return, save for a few troubles. I no longer needed to wonder when some enemies would strike as death had found them, and chose to hold onto them. The patronage to the temple was still on the rise. Some merely came to satisfy curiosity, others sought faith or comfort… I would do my best to offer to each, that which they needed. Living Saint, Willing Servant. There was power to mend even in titles, and I saw that now. It is not a title… it is a tool offered, that I might better serve He Who Endures.

Simple wisdoms and simple meal, a gentle kindness… these and other small mercies, to pass joy in sad days, to give light to shadowed places, peace to darkened hearts… These tasks fill the days, and it is glad work, even when it is tiresome. As the days pass, friendships are strengthened, once familiar faces that had faded away have returned. Such as Oawa, her antics, yet another means to draw a smile from my lips. I find in such, proof that the paths we walk, together, the paths that cross, we each effect each other, sometimes in ways we do not understand, or in ways that are apparent long after we go our separate ways. Still it is good to see so many smiling faces… it is good to laugh…

Sleep still does not come easy. I often find myself looking for busy tasks in the idle hours while others sleep. I rest only when I must. My dreams ever haunted by the shadows of the past… Whispers, cruel and meant to shake my fragile heart. Angry voices, those of grief and loss… and such losses… Pains from wounds to the heart still barely healed. Yet it is not all darkness… Sometimes there is laughter of two dear children. It ripples through nightmares, rending them. Gentle comfort to a grieving heart. Calming words of Ilmater, the kind words of friends and family… and in that I am granted a measure of peace. Even if not always… sometimes I may even find contentment in sleep.

Which is good… since after days like today I may well need it. I sought Jonas, for his emotions had me worried. I then found out why. Telissa had been attacked by Tamina. Tamina of course was taken to the Fist, while Jonas was understandably upset. Seems whoever wants my dear brother dead, also means to bring him harm by attacking those who are dear to him. I pray for them, whoever they are, for they know not who they face. These slights against those dear to Jonas will only fuel him in seeking their destruction. May Mercy find them before their present path lead them down a road best not traveled.

I then went with Telissa to speak with Trent, as there were concerns for her safety and for Trent’s intentions. I am not sure what she hoped to gain from the conversation, but by the end of it, she felt it fruitless. I remained quiet and watchful, though I am not so convinced it was a waste of time. Time though… that is a mystery that Time itself will have to reveal. Trent went to speak with Tamina at the prison, and Telissa and I headed back toward the Merchant Camp.

We walked right into some sort of mischief, and that is to say the least of it. I am not wholly sure what actually was going on. The fire was once again behaving strangely. Dustin was being blamed for it… though it seems his act was not intentional. It resulted in Djinni standing before us, and demanding who was responsible for waking him and slaying his guardians. After several tense moments where Dustin and Ivaris argued who would take the blame, and Lokie trying to gain something from the creature, the thing spirited Dustin away as quick as a blink.

Djinni are tricky creatures. They will twist and turn words and intentions in some constant need for cruel tricks. Poor Dustin… this was no different. When the creature and the mage reappeared it seemed Dustin had made a careless wish… to master the undead… though what the original wish was, or the original intent was, that may be lost unless I can speak with him and find the truth of it. Several undead things were spawned and bested. Dustin tried to run, only to be captured. The Djinni was not yet done with his tricks and games, and Dusting was taken again. It was at that time that a messenger arrived from the temple, I was needed.

When I arrived at the temple, Selah and Tessian, Brother Rente and Ian were all there. Ian had the supplies for the resurrection of Alamin… The man who had mysteriously been written into my journal all those months ago… the son who supposedly had died young at the hand of his brother… from a time when all of Ian’s family lay slain, and Alamin the sole survivor… and the rift between father and son that I had worked to mend… all of that made meaningless by a wish to alter time. The result leaving Mona and Cora, his wife and daughter alive and well, Alamin dead at a young age, and Cedi… the other son… some twisted servant of darker magic.

The resurrection was a success of sorts. Alamin’s memories are a strange mixture of both time lines, and the man is very confused. Worse still, shortly after he was drawn to life by the effort I expended, Cedi appeared. He demanded one sibling in exchange for the other. He fled, and we battled the creature he left behind. Ian then went at a dead run to Beregost… to his home to try and stop what was to come. Cedi would take young Cora. It would leave Ian a mass of rage, and further from the faith I have so long tried to teach him… He spits at my words of mercy, and I fear his anger will destroy him if we cannot find the means to give the man some measure of peace.

Exhausted though I was for chasing after him, I arrived in Beregost with the strength to heal a badly wounded Mona, the poor woman grief-stricken and in shock at the loss of her daughter. As Ian handed me some things of his daughter’s, I prayed we could scry for her and bring her back safely. Mercy of Ilmater… I pray such. Alamin not well recovered, and Selah at the temple when I left, Mona in no shape to walk, and I utterly spent, we rented a wagon back to Baldur’s Gate. The trip was uneventful.

When I returned exhausted to the temple, Alamin was starting to recover. I left Mona in Sister Rachel’s capable hands. I then was summoned to the Fist Headquarters, to escort Dustin back to the temple. He was out on a bond of sorts… having traded his spell book for a few days freedom between now and his trial. He was being tried for necromancy, again, and I fear little can be done for that charge. However… there is another charge that disturbs me. Treason for contact with the Drow… apparently the happenings between the second disappearance and his recapture. I suspect the tricks of the Djinni. I am compelled to help seek the truth of it, and I will. I worry though because he cannot give me clear answers on it, and he has chosen Lokie to be his representative. I would feel better with a Tyrran representative… or a Tormite… even one of Helm… but he has made his choice, and his trial is on the morrow. May Mercy temper the hand of Justice… and Mercy find those who have need of it…

For now we wait… for Ian to return, for Selah to scry, for Dustin’s trial, for Jonas’ enemies to reveal themselves… for my all but forgotten Bhaalist Shadow to resurface… and for life to continue as it will. I spoke for a time to Ivaris and Oawa, tried to speak to Dustin, but for now he needs time. I spoke with several others, various conversations on various topics. Among them, Brother Rente’s desire to bring the members of the Triad together for more than war, and a grand idea by my thinking. I even spent a bit of time in cheery conversation with Tessian. His quest to count the number of times I laugh a day, and increase said numbers continues.

Such a dear man. He is -my- light, my comfort, where it is my place to be so for others, he is for me. I pray that I return such in kind for him. I can see him in the long of my days, and the thought brings joy to my very soul. A blessing I am very grateful for. Sometimes though, I think the constant volume of people drawn to me boggles him, and yet, he remains. Of all I pray for that Mercy may keep well… I pray for him the most, may he be granted the will to endure as he must, may Mercy keep him well. Truly if not for the joy he brings… some days there would be only shadow. Could he ever know or understand how precious a gift he is to me?

Mercy to those who need it in the days to come for indeed there are many. Guide us on our tasks. In the end there is only Mercy, and in that I am content… Though I will ever do my best to ensure that here, there is Mercy too. Guide me through the tasks before me, that I may not misstep… If needs must, let them understand Ilmater through me. May I show them that which is Mercy, that they may know and understand the Crying Lord. Guide me well, that I may do so in turn… Walk my path with me Ilmater, and I will not fail you.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED FOURTY-SIXTH ENTRY]

I woke in the morning feeling strangely restless. So I walked. North first until I nearly fell to a skeleton magus, and then south. I ran into many friendly faces, passed several moments of pleasant conversation even. I shocked Joan when I asked her to take me exploring. I wasn’t sure what I sought, perhaps a change of scenery? Either way it was a grand thing, we fought several undead in some sort of lakeside temple. Good exercise, though I fear my knuckles were sore from contacting so much bone. The rest of the day passed peacefully enough and without incident. I even slept well enough. It was good to have a day of fruitful exertion and a nice rest… because the next day would not be so kind.

It would start with some disturbing revelations about Trent’s recent behavior, and some rather unsettling observations of said behavior. I am told he left the church in Beregost, and much else… I pray whatever ill he finds passes in such a way that he can find his own redemption while there is time. Sometimes, to find our path we must step from it. Only then can we see where we are to be in such cases. The Lathandarites from Beregost already seek his safe return… perhaps his heart will yet mend? Only time dare say, and for now time holds its secrets closely.

Another bit of a walk before Dustin’s trial. That was a blessing for it allowed time for thoughts to settle and minds to clear. It was interesting to say the least. Ivaris spoke, and questions were asked. I could sense honesty in his words, and right in his intent… but I could see the weight in his heart. I wondered why this was happening at all briefly. Ivaris maybe hoped that Dustin’s name would be cleared once and for all? Regardless of why, it was happening none the less. Jonas and I both spoke of the event in question.

At least all seemed to understand that the bits involving the Drow were not of Dustin’s choosing, else he might now be dead by the hangman’s noose. Despite the prosecutor’s want to twist our words to his advantage many were wise to see past it. He may well have been granted a second chance if not for his own hand condemning him. It may never be truly known what he wished for as he stood in the audience of the creature that brought about his condemnation.

At some point he dismissed Lokie as his counsel… that may well have been wise or not, who could truly say. Either way the cards had already been dealt. After several hours of what may well have been little more than a controlled argument, and less a seeking of truth, things were drawing to a close. He was branded guilty as his own spell book practically demanded such. The sentence was far more merciful than even I dared to expect. A five year banishment from Baldur’s Gate, and the promise of lashing should he attempt to re-enter the city… His spell book was to be burned. For a magus… I would imagine that would be rather tragic.

Still none expected what happened next. Dustin then, as is his right challenged Ivaris to a duel to the death. The assembly was lead to the north of the city… to the Fields of the Dead. I felt an icy cold grip my heart. There was no mercy in such! Neither of them needed to fight much less die, and yet they stood. Neither willing to kill the other, both thinking themselves deserved of death. I thought surely Ivaris would walk away, that Dustin would grasp the second chance that Mercy had granted him… instead the sense of dread that gripped me earlier, now all but consumed me.

The strong emotions of those present, and the adamant want for death… stirred the darkness that corrupted the dead lands. A large mass of undead began to form. There was little time to react as Dustin walked to them, welcoming the death they offered, and it was that first spilling of blood… that fed the undead things the frenzy they needed. Before we understood what had happened we were nearly swallowed up by the undead. We fought as well as we could, but we were outnumbered on cursed ground… many fell, perhaps all of us. When I awoke or arose, whichever was applicable the Fist had mobilized on the undead force that now threatened to swallow everyone and everything living. They were raising and tending the wounded, urging us to retreat southward toward the city.

Dustin refused to return from death, and we stood there taking head counts. It was the fear and rage in my own mind… that of Jonas, that alerted me to Telissa’s absence. I stilled my mind and spoke prayers. I begged the others be patient and be calm. Telissa would be returned to us, as would her brother. It took all my tact and grace to get them to be still. I knew in my heart if they went after her… there would be more than two missing. I had all but one woman convinced to wait, and sure enough Telissa and her brother returned to us unharmed.

We then went to the fields once the Fist said the danger had passed. I got separated from the others at first. When I came upon them, the woman that had rushed off had been found, was undead, and they had had no choice but to slay her. Knowing better than to try to undo it in such a cursed place rife with necromantic energy, I carried the woman to the temple. She was brought back from both death and undeath. Exhausted but satisfied that the day had drawn to the best end possible I made my way to the kitchen. Tessian had asked to speak to Jonas. During my wait for the two to finish, I spoke with Ivaris. The events have him unsettled, it will take some time for him to come to terms with such things.

Regardless, once all that need be said was said, Jonas chased the others away, leaving Tessian and I some time to ourselves. Tessian has been distracted of late. I worry for him. He has been increasingly tired of late. I hope the strain of my chaos is not too much for him. Mercy to him, keep him well, if not for my sake than for his. We passed some pleasant conversation and ate the muffins I made while I waited. It was very nice to have the span of moments for the joy offered. Selah joined us after a while and the evening passed in pleasant light. Finally we all went our separate ways for some much needed rest. May I never take for granted the Mercy that visits me regularly. Each calm moment, each smile… each tallied up laugh… are a blessing so great my heart would burst overfull, my mind would pass into madness simply trying to count them. Come what tasks have yet to pass, through whatever darkness I have yet to walk… the light of these moments will guide me back. I know this in my heart.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND FOURTY-SEVENTH ENTRY]

To fully encompass the day I must start with the end of the day before. Or rather the late hours of the night near morning. I had returned from my ‘most urgent visit’ to Trademeet. Turns out it was urgent but not in a bad way. In fact it was rather a pleasant few days. Sister Dorine had wished I be there for her initiation, and it was a promise I was glad to keep. There atop the table, like a proud center piece was a cake. On top of it were a few candles. It said ‘Happy Birthday Mom’ to one side, and a slice was missing from the other side. I smiled. The on going joke of Jade as my daughter, never ceased to draw a chuckle from me. The Hin’s insatiable want for sweets never ceased to amaze me either. I took a slice of cake and made my way to the kitchen for something to drink. I nearly laughed at the amount of flour about the kitchen. Fortunately we keep a healthy supply and it did not set us back much. Yes it was definitely Jade who made the cake. There would be time to clean up once I unpacked, but by the time I had unpacked the mess was gone. Jade again? Perhaps.

I finished my slice of cake, not bad… and made my way to a bed. It was still several hours from morning when I fell asleep. When dawn would find me, it would have been a restless night. No amount of sleep would prepare me for the day ahead. I couldn’t say how long I had slept actually when I awoke to Polly talking in my ear.

‘Polly is a good bird! Find Meri! Meri-hunt! Meri-hunt! Let's go on a Meri-hunt! Merrily Meri Meri!’

I was confused by her words. First off, where did she learn them, what did she mean? She continued as did the mystery.

‘Meri-hunt! Meri-hunt! Let's go on a Meri-hunt! Merrily Meri Meri!
Lastri is serving symarras at table ten!’

She repeated the last phrase several times as I reached for some parchment and charcoal to write with. I wondered what a Meri-hunt was… or why, as I wrote the loyal parrot’s words down. Her final phrase which she repeated many times worried me as I readied for the day and tended my morning prayers. The bird stayed close, oddly quiet during prayers, but repeating her new phrases.

‘Tessian is gone!’

Over and over came the last phrase as I left the temple and headed to the Elfsong. If there were answers to be had, it would start there. Polly became quiet as we approached the tavern. Inside it was a normal day. The place was hardly crowded. A Hin sat enjoying a meal and drinks, a few regular patrons were near the bar speaking with Lady Alyth. A scattering of folk about the tavern in quiet conversation. I spotted Lastri and asked her of Symarras. She continued as if she had not seen me, acknowledging me as if she heard my voice from no particular direction, as though I was unseen but vaguely heard. Odd. Remembering the rest of Polly’s phrase I made my way to table ten.

Almost as soon as I sat down, Lastri approached and ask what I would like. I gave her a quizzical look and ordered Symarras. She retuned shortly thereafter with a plate of sandwiches and pickled vegetables. The plate of food seemed normal enough. I thanked Lastri and she resumed her work. Perplexed and curious what to do now I nibbled on a sandwich. Polly and I watched each other, myself wondering her thoughts. I was reminded of a conversation about talking vegetables Tessian and I had had as we walked to Trademeet. Perhaps I was to eat and gather my strength for the day? It tasted good… save for the parchment. Parchment? Upon opening the sandwich I found the lettuce was actually parchment. I took the bits of green parchment and placed them together reading the note contained on them:

‘The magic vegetables will speak to you if you bite them!’

What a strange thing to say. Figurative? Likely. Vegetables do not really talk. Either way I was cautious to nibble on one. It said nothing. Wondering if perhaps it was like the sandwiches, I began to carefully cut open the vegetables, hoping to find hidden parchment. To my horror as I set knife and fork to a potato it whimpered as though it was hurt. Goodness! On instinct of a healer… I canted a healing prayer… to the potato… I healed a potato… and it was talking… I looked at Polly confused as I answered the potato. Maybe I was dreaming? Or I lost my mind?

‘What are you doin'?’

‘My sincerest apologies... I did not think it was literal…’

‘Yeah, yeah. You big people never do! You just gobble us'n's up without thinkin' that a tater has feelin'.‘

I looked from bird to potato and back to bird. I was suddenly having second thoughts about every potato I had ever eaten.

'You better go to my home an' read about me. You need edumicatin'.’

‘Your home?’

‘Yeah! Where do you -think- a magic vegetable lives? Huh!? All us sundry vegetables, alive from sorcery at its finest. I got nothin' more to say to yew.’

I offered apologies to the now brooding potato, who simply asked if I was going to his home or not, and Polly proceeded to offer some stout advice in her normally excited tone.

‘Follow Veggie!’

I looked among the talking potato and talking parrot, wondering at the morning thus far. How was I to follow a potato… and to where? I thought and puzzled ticking off gardens and such… then I thought of magic, and the word sundry that the potato had used. I wrote down the potato’s words, and found a basket for him and the lettuce notes. Sundry? Magic Vegetables? Shrugging and deciding it was a fair start I went to the Sorcerous Sundries shop. Seemed my guess was right enough.

Of course there were no gardens about the shop, but there was no shortage of books. So I scanned the titles for one that might shed some light on magic potatoes. -The Joys of Arcane Gardening- That seemed relevant enough. I took the book and made my way toward the counter, leafing through the pages as I walked. A note fell from within and I picked it up. I bought the book figuring at least it would be interesting reading. Perhaps something I could send to Brother Dracius when I finished with it. I left the shop after placing the book in the basket with notes and potato.

‘Great jumping alley cats! Do not open that door! Hang up the clothes on the clothesline and be done with it! Just go north already.’

So I left the shop and headed north seeking an alleyway. I found one with a door at the end of it and a pair of clotheslines. I knew it was the right alleyway for there were black paper cats hung about. Each cat contained various messages that seemed nonsensical.

"Meow" "Purr" "Hiss" "Claw" "I like Cloud." "I wanna bite Tessian." "You look cute." "You smell nice." "Hi."

I laughed and collected the cats up and placing them in the basket. I re-read the note that came from the book. I spied a red and blue shirt and a white blouse. I hung them up, notes falling from the red and blue shirts. Which read as follows:

‘Open the door! It's a seeeeeecret.’
‘Gazebo’

I placed the notes in the basket, being mindful of the potato, and moved to the door. I was careful to open it, and found a nondescript and unused space. Painted on the back of the door was a monster very much revealing one of Tessian’s stories. The sign above the door simply said ‘RAWR’ and there was a note tacked beside it.

‘Why do female humans have to be so curious? Keep looking. Rawr!’

I chuckled and looked about the room. He certainly would keep things from being too serious. I eyed Polly as I found nothing else of note in the room. The potato continued to sulk silently. No that I could blame it, for I had tried to eat it. My attention was on the note that read ‘Gazebo’ as I thought of places where there was one. The only one I knew of was near the Tyrran temple. I made my way there smiling in the evening sun.

When I got to the gazebo, Polly flew over and perched on the banister. As the last rays of sun fell away I looked about. The gazebo had been cheerfully decorated in chamomile sprigs. It smelled lovely. Hanging from the center of the gazebo was a bouquet of various fragrant herbs and flowers. I stretched and strained to reach it. I set down the basket. Finally after much stretching and work to grasp it, I drew the flowers safely down to me. They smelled wonderful. Roses, Lavender, Mint sprigs, Chamomile, Bluebells and all manner of wildflower. It was a rather fancy arrangement, obviously had taken some time. I set the flowers in the basket after smelling them one last time. I opened the note which said simply:

‘Turn around.’

I tucked the note in the basket and turned to see Tessian knelt, now in front of me. He smiled and I couldn’t help but grin.

‘Such a merry little Meri hunt.’

‘Yes but I think I upset your potato… he quit talking to me.’

I peeked into the basket at the potato only to look back to Tessian, who was now holding a lovely ring. It was a dainty thing, not overly fancy. Silver with a brilliantly blue sapphire in it. He held it up with a nervous smile.

‘May I merrily marry Meri?’

It is hard to pinpoint the exact thoughts I had in that small moment, for there were many. I had expected a cake, or a picnic… This was a grand surprise. I stood there a moment, pleasantly stunned before finally my mind finally formed words.

‘May you-- Yes. So long as it is Merrily.’

He placed the ring on my finger, but didn’t let go of my hand as he stood. It had blossomed into a grand night. The stars and moon shone gently, the air was pleasant. The breeze carried the scent of chamomile. He held me a moment, a moment that time itself seemed to hold.

‘So be it.’

How grand! How truly, wonderfully grand! He spoke for a moment of the night, and a few other passing remarks. I eyed the ring on my finger. It seemed to almost dance in the light that had so long now accompanied me. It seemed brighter in that moment, as though my joy had somehow added to its glow. Such a perfectly grand day!

‘Time flies when you're having fun. I'm quite hungry after all that waiting.’

It occurred to me that this had taken time to set up no doubt. Add to that the time it took me to make my way here… no wonder he was hungry. As thoughts rolled through my mind, he snatched up the potato. To my horror he bit into it as it screamed and gurgled. I tried to stop him of course. He swallowed a bite and looked at me calmly as I explained he killed a talking potato less than calmly. It was then that a Hin emerged from his hiding place in a near by bush…

‘Don't you know how to treat a potato? Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew?’

It was the -voice- of the potato. I laughed, relieved as I realized the joke.

‘Well done, Master Boddletoes. Meri, if I may introduce Jon Boddletoes, the best ventriloquist I have ever known. You might have noticed him in table nine.’

After introductions, and Tessian had finished his snack, there was a bit of idle conversation. The Hin went on his way. I mused about the lovely birthday I’d had. We chatted away the night, nestled in our joy and the scent of chamomile. Laughter, as it always is with Tessian, was in no short supply. As dawn approached, he took my hand again and a slightly more serious tone.

‘The truth is, Meri, I love you. I'd like to be tied down to somewhere for once in my life, and it's a lot of responsibility, I know...but I'm glad to take it.’

‘I love you too, and nothing could make me happier.’

Polly left her perch amid the chamomile, eyeing us both curiously as she settled on Tessian’s shoulder. He helped me up as we made our way to the Elfsong for some breakfast. Breakfast was full of pleasant conversation. Lastri was pleased she could show her excitement, being in on the whole gambit of sorts. She did well… I had no idea what to expect. Already word of the proposal was spreading about. Tessian went to catch some rest soon after breakfast, and I made my way to the temple.

The Sisters and Brother Marcus were overjoyed. Of course Brother Marcus offered to oversee the ceremony. I tended to my morning duties and took a short nap. I then helped with the meal preparation. Once those duties were done I made my way out and about. Those closest to me were overjoyed at the news. Mercies! Even strangers were glad. Birthday well wishes and congratulations formed much of the days conversations. Indeed it seemed the whole coast was alight with cheery happenstance and talk of romance. At last it would seem the shadows were loosing foothold in the bright places of people’s hearts… Mine especially.

Later that evening Tessian and I sat near the merchant camp. We whispered between ourselves amid well wishing and cheery conversations around us.

‘The ring is lovely dear.’

‘It shines if you say the right word. Bright blue light comes from the gem.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. If you bring the ring to your lips and say: "Billy and Dianne," it will glow with a wistful blue light.’

I looked from the ring to Tessian and back before meeting his gaze again. Such a precious gift he had given me. There were not words to express such a thing, but what could not be said was yet translated in the silent look we shared.

‘I know that you miss them.’

My heart soared. I could hear their laughter. I could have cried I was so happy.

‘I love you.’

I whispered the names to the ring and my smile grew as I gazed at the soft blue light.

‘So do they, and I loved them too.’

I smiled at Tessian. I think in that moment I found a greater measure of joy and peace than I had ever known.

‘You truly are a treasure Tessian, and a greater blessing than I deserve…’

‘No. I think you do deserve some measure of mercy for yourself after all this time, but thank you.’

‘Perhaps you are right... but you are still a grand blessing’

‘It's been an honor to keep you from being serious.’

‘I pray you do always love.’

We sat there silent, hand in hand for a long while. We listened to the roll of conversations around us. We continued to whisper quietly between ourselves. We talked tentatively of wedding plans. Wedding Plans! Goodness. Never could I have dreamed such. In all the days of shadow and pain… of blood and death, for all that was lost, never did I think I could hold such joy… and yet… I did. Truly I was blessed. As conversations continued and things got crowded, Tessian looked to me with a wry smile.

‘Merielle, would you like to see a shiny rock?’

I nearly laughed to hear him ask that. He had asked just such a question so long ago, to escape an arguing group.

‘It’s shiny and sentimental. Plus… its quiet.’

So off we went. The rock had not changed much over time, still damp and glistening with river water. The mica in it seemed to glimmer in the l divine light I had grown so used to. It maybe had a bit more moss than it used to. It was a much more pleasant visit than our last one. We talked for a while, of the past and of the future… then we enjoyed the now in silence. I drew. Tessian stood at such a fine angle to the rock, and it was a lovely evening. As he stood lost in his thoughts, I captured the moment to keep. Eventually the day ended and Tessian went to rest. I tended my evening chores and sought rest also. There were no nightmares. Not really any dreams. There was laughter… there was peace and joy… formless emotions that lit the darkness of rest.

Emrys can stop his hunting... I had found my Silver Dragon... Ha! Love never was a curse... I know that now.
~~

The day started in conversation with Rente. He is very thorough in his notes. He has four pages just on how I drink my tea. The man is not writing a biography… he is making an encyclopedia. I am rather surprised there was not an exact counting of the number of hairs on my head. Disturbingly thorough indeed. He wished to begin his atonement quests. So later we gathered and set off for Durlag’s Tower. We were met by a dark figure and a wall of flame. The riddle of the passing was answered by his faith. However, this was not the time, for whatever reason Ilmater bid him to wait. I know all about such things. The patience it teaches, tests the resolve, when Ilmater says wait. Wait, when all you wish to do is get it done and over with. Wait, when all about you there is chaos and trouble… but wait we do, for who are we to argue the will of the gods? We made our way back to Baldur’s Gate. The group was reflective. Brief as the trek was, much was gleaned from it.

I found my self walking the Tradeway. I came across Kadri again. She is in off sorts. Our conversation was difficult. I worry for her. She spoke of an all too familiar demon, that I dare not give name to. Her want for the Soulkeep borders obsession. It seems the demon urges her as such. I fear for her. I pray the bond with the demon can be broken without damage to her. There is no further doubt in my mind that every possible effort to destroy the amulet must be sought. I cannot let any find it, or gain the means to it. The path to that foul thing is not so widely known, and so for now at least… it remains out of grasp.

There was a much more disturbing set of events to follow, and a conversation I am honor bound to hold in secret. My steps will have to be much more guarded. I think perhaps this path is best left unwalked. It is not so late as to change directions I think. Though what to make of the man… and his past… He could be a danger not yet realized. For now I shall be careful, guarded. He is obviously more than he appears… and it is a mystery time shall have to reveal. He offered help… and I was reluctant to accept. Perhaps I should not have… and perhaps further help of such kind should be avoided. There is something underlying that no amount of conversation can dissuade. The whole thing puts me ill at ease. Given the memories drawn to the surface… perhaps some things are best left buried… and other things left to the Hands of Mercy. Done is done in some respects… in others there is still a chance to correct that which is wrong. We shall see. For now, I will keep my thoughts and further opinions on the matter to myself. He swears there is no price for such a thing, but after the start… I doubt that. The price may well be sanity or worse… and it may not be a price I can afford to pay. Yes I will be more careful in the future. ‘Be mindful of the dagger hidden in feathered pillows…’ Time will tell what is to come of this. Mercy of Ilmater guide my steps… Guide them well. I was foolish to doubt what my heart said. I know better than to do so, and will not make the same mistake again.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND FOURTY-EIGHTH ENTRY]

Today was a reminder of the shadows that still linger. I had become used to the gentle peace. Where the worst troubles were pick-pockets and duels between contradicting personalities. In the silence since his renewed presence was brought to my attention, I had assumed the danger passed. A silly assumption perhaps. He had been killed twice now, maybe I hoped thrice would be sufficient. Still, I grew comfortable in the silence. It was that comfort, that increased the impact of the message. No doubt that was his intent. It was not fear that cloyed at me as I took the parchment from the trembling hand, but anger. I also do not doubt that he lurked in the shadows near by. Did he smile that mocking smile as the child ran off in fear?

Mercy of Ilmater… to save each innocent child from the murdering hand of that Vile Shadow. To spare them the fear I saw in that boy’s eyes… I was angry, Ilmater forgive me. I know I was told to never let my anger sway me from my path, but such a task is difficult in dealing with one such as he. The anger is a nice shield, forgive me Ilmater for saying such… but it hides an underlying fear. Not for myself, or of the Bhaalist perse, but in the means he will seek to that end.

My solace is that there is little that he actually has the power to take, my sanity perhaps… but my will and faith are strong. As much as I miss the children he and his ilk have robbed me of, I am no hurry to seek rest on Mount Martyrdom yet. He seems content to play his game. To show up and shatter the calm, stand me on the edge of the blade he wishes to bury in my back… not a game I enjoy, but one he and I have played before. He will be slow in attempting to take his revenge because he enjoys such games. He will be cautious for now too. His allies are limited, if any at all. I smell the stink of his pipe weed on the breezes more often than I would like. He watches and he waits. My patience will outlast his, and in the end, Mercy will again prevail. He will fall as he has before. Yes that is my comfort. Faith is strength.

He seeks my soul, but he will not have it. If it is one thing I learned in all of this is that he cannot take what is Mercy’s. Not only that but, combined will alone… too much here; duty, and too many dear and unwilling to let go. Things are so stacked against him, that all the faith he holds, the rage and hate… pales compared to all that is light. Shadows… hold no sway here. My worries will be put to rest in time. As will my fears. I -will- hold peace in my days, I know that now. Perhaps I knew it all along. I have walked the shadowed paths with little more than a candle’s flicker of hope. Mercy guides me even still, and hope’s light is so bright now that I need not fear the darkness.

It does not change the fact that there is still much danger. Brother Rente told me today of a robed figure come to give a ‘warning’ to the Ilmatari. Warnings? Thinly veiled threats. They judge us because we offer mercy to all. Ilmater bids us: To all… to the undeserving. And we will do so. We will not sway our path. We will not waver simply because those of shadow and darkness disagree. They speak of justice. Vigilantism is hardly justice. Murder is hardly Justice. Do the fools see that they spit on the laws they claim to uphold? Tyr speaks of law… even though the system employed by the Fist may be flawed… there are better ways to correct the problem. Change comes too slowly for some. They lack the patience and the wisdom to see such. Some are too clouded by anger to see clearly at all. Anger is such a destructive thing.

Persistent patience finally paid off. Tessian finally explained why he has been so tired of late. His moments of rest have been haunted by something most sinister. To see him so troubled… We talked at length, bits of the mystery unraveling, thought there is much yet to learn before a solution may be evident. Eventually he could abate rest no longer. I kept watch that night. Winthrop kept the tea hot and in grand supply. From a stool in the doorway, I sat and embroidered. I didn’t know what to expect, but he slept peacefully. Perhaps my vigil served a purpose even if the trouble did not make itself apparent because he awoke in the morning with out having ill dream or thought.

Breakfast was a fine affair. He was well rested and that served to lift my own spirits. We talked of plans for the eventual future. Of homes with fine kitchens and gardens and of course wedding plans. I almost wish I could be there when Iliara and Dracius hear the news. We will wait to set plans until we hear from them of course. After all they are more dear to me than any other, as close to family as I will come to know. We will give them time to travel from Trademeet. In the meantime, Joan wants me to take a Plea of rest so that she can dress me up for the wedding. Seems a fair idea to me. Though the idea of far too much finery worries me some. We are planning on a simple ceremony at the temple. Sister Adolina asked of decorations. I would be content with chamomile and mint, lavender and that should more than suffice. Simple arrangements of course. I am sure those dear to us will attend. I nearly gave away the surprise for dear Joan too. A grand thing it is! A bit of laughter to further light a joyous moment.

Mercy to those who have need of it. The grace of a second chance, the mercy of a smile. All that is Mercy is Ilmater. There may be shadow… but always there is hope… ever there is light, and at the end… There Is Mercy…
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED AND FOURTY-NINETH ENTRY]

Shadows! Cursed vile shadowed things! When I sleep I dream and when I dream I see shadows. Silent and dark and foreboding. I see that dark malevolence that hovered over Billy that day… see the very life drained from him… and I hear the whispers. His whispers. Gods the span of silence from him is maddening. He surfaces just long enough to remind me he looms in the darkness and waits. He bides his time. I catch whiff of his pipe on the breeze and it stands the hairs on the back of my neck on end. Always there, and likely too close for comfort… unseen and hidden by the foulness of his lord. I wish he would just act! At least then I could see him maybe… or know from which direction the blade came. I could do something about it… anything. I am trying. By all that is Mercy I try to push the worry away… to not give him purchase in my thoughts. But the note… and of course his lingering presence. How am I to know if he is there or not? How do I stop what I do not see?

Mercy of Ilmater guide my steps, lend me your strength. For all I endure… this becomes most taxing because I long for peace. There is joy to be had and I wish to have it without lingering promise of something foul. I have faced him before, yes, and stood where he fell… but then the need was urgent, his actions rushed as time worked against us all. Now he seems content to take his time. His time? Bah! He wastes -my- time! Once again sleep does not come easy, and it is because I cannot help but wonder where he watches and when.

I push it from my mind often enough. As I said there is joy to be had. There is love and laughter all around as others have found joy in the aftermath of the dark days passed. Bhaal’s Shadow may still walk the lands… but Bhaal has considerably less sway. There is light where once there was darkness and death. The land has begun to heal… Flowers grow along side the road and in the once trampled places of battle. Even among the broken rocks of Bhaal’s once proud fortress, lavender and daisies grow. As the land heals, so do the hearts of many. The dead are not forgotten, but remembered in the prayers of those who still live. The evils of the land seem fewer. For now the darkness abates as it flees the light that has taken hold. It seems even now though, there are enemies to the temple… and I fear what may happen if they all seek the same end for the Ilmatari. The work of the Broken One must continue… it must. If hope is something our enemies cannot afford the poor and downtrodden, the sick, the hurting and bereaved, then we will offer hope and comfort for that is the way of Mercy.

I took time to cry unspent tears. Spent time in meditation and prayer. Make room for the joy so to speak. In truth I sought to make peace with myself. To come to terms with that which I had not yet forgiven. It is difficult to forgive so much bloodshed… Even as the others insist there is no fault I bear. Some blame Ilmater, and that saddens me greatly. They think Ilmater wished his death… but they are wrong. Even Ilmater wished it avoided. … Play the hand that Fate has dealt … Billy had hinted that it was never in our power to keep his life… only his soul. That did not mean that Ilmater did not wish him kept alive… I know many wished it… save the Lord of Murder and his foul ilk. So much loss to save a soul, and all they see is the loss versus one soul that was saved. Are they blind to the numbers more that would have been lost if that one soul was left to the Lord of Murder?

I came to the realization that as much as I want them to see it from my eyes, or from the eyes of Ilmater, they cannot. I cannot make them see what they wish not to. All I can do is pray that Mercy finds them, that there is mercy enough within them for forgiveness… Mercy enough for me? Perhaps… The most difficult Mercy to offer is that which we must give ourselves. It is puzzling to me how they can forgive me, my steps and my actions, even my words… but cannot forgive the god that compelled these things. It was Ilmater who compelled my actions and words, my every step… and if I am so forgiven… why not he? Do they not see that even for the Divine there are rules? Of course there must be lest Bhaal simply take what he so wished, and the rest of us be damned. I know well that it stands to reason there are rules to all of the pantheon.

Ilmater may well have done all that was in his power. I am content that the two children are safe in Mercy’s Arms. I miss them terribly. This was another thing I had to come to terms with. So long did my thoughts revolve around keeping them well, keeping them safe, planning for their future, that the loss of them was near devastating. For so long I have walked, unsure of my actual path. I saw many roads to travel. With the threat of the Bhaalists gone, I could return to my duties of tending the orphans in the city. I could resume walking the roads and offering aid to those who had need of it. I could resume my work in the kitchens, could resume handing out food and clothes… Couldn’t I?

Yet it was difficult. I had not had time to come to terms with Dianne’s loss. There was consolation from those dearest to me. That moment at the Feldepost Inn, as we watched over Billy. Tessian and I sat in the floor, and I cried. I think that may well have been the first time I had an inkling that I loved him. Though then the realization was not to come until that moment when I met his father for the first time. Dianne was gone… and the thought of how and why still chilled my blood and left my stomach in upheaval. Billy too was no longer mine to care for. It took so long to adjust my thoughts from protecting a child and a faith with all I was… so long to adjust from the days of fighting… Still, even now… I wake and my first thought is to check on the defenses and plans that were protecting him.

Did I fail them? Dianne suffered at the hands of Bhaal’s Shadow. I know she did. Though now, she rests, and the two times I have seen her since her death, she is happy and without sign of pain or trouble. Billy… He shall not be some grand knight in Ilmater’s service. Martyrs. They call me a martyr of my faith. Call my suffering holy and just. Living Saint… even now it seems undeserved. Those children who died… not just Billy and Dianne… the six other children killed by the Shadow’s hand… or every mortal lost to Murder’s hand… each who fell in the grand battle that laid the foul temple low… They deserve the honor for the sacrifice that was given. Freely. For the sake of what was right… and I pray not for my sake… I deserve no such thing. Yet to move on… I must forgive myself.

Mercy in forgiveness… All deserve the Mercy of a Second Chance… Even the faithful. Even a Saint? My peers have forgiven me, my friends, my family, even those who lost loved ones in the conflict… most have forgiven me. My god has even forgiven me. Why then can I not forgive myself? Because Saint or no, Chosen or not… no matter what honor they afford me, no matter what kindness they offer, no matter what title… I am still mortal. I still see myself as the least of these. Obedient, unwavering yes. Greater than others for the loss they suffer? Never.

Regardless of the worth I hold in myself… others look to me in a reverence, for guidance and such that I am now in a position to offer. It is Brother Rente who reminds me of such. My every action noted… to be held accounted as a saint in the time of my death. Already he speaks of monasteries and pomp and circumstance that my daily rituals will be subject to. I must hold myself to high standards. My path is now to teach mercy in all its aspects. I cannot do that if I cannot offer the same mercy I am to offer to all… to myself. Mercy is to all and in all things. You need only seek it.

So I have spent the span of idle hours in thought and prayer… coming to terms with my own faults. Mercy guide me, and keep your hand at my back lest I falter. Now more than ever, I say that a good deal, but I mean it. If I am to guide others, to teach of Mercy by example… then I will do so, and I will start with myself. This is simply another road my feet must grow used to. As I learned to walk the path of a slave… then learned to walk the path of a woman of faith… Now I learn to walk… as a Saint, the Willing Servant of Ilmater.

There is another path to be mine… I have not taken a Vow of Purity… never felt it was my right to such, though I could well have… and now I am to marry. How strange and joyous such a thought is. The soft blue glow of the ring is a comfort to my heart, and the promise it carries is a boon to my soul. He truly is a treasure. A gift. I cherish the joy that finds me so easily in his presence. I have avoided such these last few days, save when I watch over his rest… part of me feels selfish. I know it not… and I hear from those dear it is hardly selfish.

…There is mercy enough for you in this world…

How many had said this over the months? I lost count. To understand Mercy it must be offered freely… and accepted freely… for one cannot give what one does not already have. Today I take steps toward my own forgiveness for the wrongs I hold myself accountable for. These steps are merely steps on a path I already walk. As for the Shadow that follows… The darkness does not stay hidden from the light forever. Wherever there is hope, there is light. Stay strong in your faith dear Meri. It was faith that won before. Faith truly is strength. There truly is Mercy in all things… one needs to only seek it.

Ilmater’s words that offered comfort once, offer comfort still now. I stand stronger with those who stand beside me. As always… not just in the battles past… Mercy will prevail. I know this, for I have seen it time and again. Angry Shadows bent on vengeance do not hold sway where Mercy is given dominion.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUDRED AND FIFTIETH ENTRY]

The day started pleasantly enough. Another grand debate with Joan on the practical merits of the color gray in one’s wardrobe, versus the fashionable presence of color. She wished to go shopping for a wedding dress. I had promised Addy that I would tend the meal preparations today. I had also been too long away from the temple itself. So busy with so much else. Busy? I say that to make myself feel better… I have been busy… dodging shadows and avoiding nightmares. Today the Shadow sought me… and the Nightmares did not wait for sleep to take hold. I realized once again that this would test my resolve and my will to stand against the ills who wish to see Mercy gone from the Coast.

One Shadow… one shadow without a temple to stand in… I stand with so many allies it amazes me. Now it terrifies me. How many will come to harm as the Hin plays his game? How many will fall to his blades before he finally seeks to claim what his god has sent him for? I have never prayed for the death of anyone… for any reason… but I do pray this one falls before his task is done. Before too many are hurt. Enough blood has spilled for my sake, at Bhaal’s behest. Today it was Brother Rente and Fangorn. Fang has taken to watching me like a hawk now… as have many. Do they not see it is not I who need protecting? I am safe so long as he is content with his game… Unless his note bears truth?

‘Merielle, you are next. Bhaal embraces you.’

Next? Would he truly end the game so quickly? Jonas said something about half the coast guarding me now… and he may well be right. For now the goal is safely out of reach. He can’t face them all -and- stand long enough to see me fall. He is alone… he has his anger, but that is not nearly as strong as faith and loyalty. Now to find a way to keep them safe.

Bhaal cannot take what is Mercy’s. That does not quell the anger. There are still those angry for the losses in the laying low of the Bhaalist temple. There are still those angry over lost children… Angry over Billy’s loss. Much of it is misdirected anger, at Ilmater. Anger… many thought I was afraid. Or that I doubted the Bhaalist’s inevitable failure… no. I do not doubt what my faith has taught me, what I know in my soul to be true. I was angry. Angry that once again I faced a foe who didn’t have the graces to face me directly, who chose to inflict the greatest wounds by wounding those dear. It would take much thought and prayer to come to terms with such anger. Ilmater’s words offering comfort. Odd how such words, from past situations still applied.

There were those who sought to protect. To reassure. It was not I that needed the reassurance and the protection. Rente was so deeply rattled by it. I think that pained me most. How do I protect them all? I could leave… but I would eventually return to find them all dead, and then he would take his prize to his god unhindered. Ilmater has once again bid me stand, for the sake of so many. Once again I am urged by my fellows to avoid the sanctuary so as not to draw death on the innocent. It may be best to once again seek safer ground. Where? Where is truly safe? I doubt any place is truly safer than another.

Candlekeep has been suggested. I am reluctant to ask. I know Joan bears me or my faith any ill, and I am sure not all of the keep would hold such things against me… but those once dearest to me… Their anger has turned them. My heart breaks for their sakes. They will not say so outright, but I sense it… see it hidden in their eyes. Some have even said so outright. They feel so wronged by Billy’s death. Indeed it was a bitter thing to swallow… even now my heart weeps, even though I know they are safe. Still, their anger toward Ilmater is a sharp blade, in part because that is exactly what the Bhaalists sought to do all the while. Never the less, the Ilmatari must endure… As needs must, I will endure. I will not Falter now. To come so far, fight so hard and stand through so much… now is hardly the time to step from the path.

Sadly though, the troubles facing the Ilmatari increase… though at least this one… with Sister Abby may be easier to resolve than the others. Now I just need to talk to Abby, which shouldn’t be overly difficult. Mercy smiled on this, whether all parties involved see it as such or not. The trouble with this vigilante group seems to be little more than a warning at present. Warnings or threats… it matters little really. Our work will continue. Still I wonder how much more trouble the Ilmatari as a whole can bear? We endure well. Despite all of this trouble, our numbers have flourished in the region. That is a comfort of sorts. Where once there were few to do our works, there are now many. The Triad is strong here now. We will weather this. Mercy prevailed over worse.

I was wrong to let my anger shake my faith. Looking back on the exchange between Ian and I, I can see the wisdom behind his words. I understand what he was saying. I stood a long while and tossed angry words at the sea, which seemed all too content to carry them away. At least at this rate… avoiding sleep should be simple enough. Now if I could only do what needs be done as simply as Ian said it should be:

‘Find some peace in the wave and winds, in the waters and stones… Find the Halfling.’

Find him indeed. Because I must find him if I am ever to find a modicum of peace. Bhaal will once again be denied his prize. Mercy will prevail. There is no end but this.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND FIFTY-FIRST ]

He doesn’t work alone. I know his whisper… this was not he. Stands in reason I suppose, though I had hoped the rest of the shadowed cowards would disperse to lick their wounds. Mercy of Ilmater forgive me. I was angry. Livid. They want my fear… to rattle my faith. All they do is draw fury from me, which you Ilmater bid me not grant them. A misstep. Forgive this servant her temper. I will be more guarded in the future. Anger may well have been mistaken for fear. The only thing I fear is that innocent ones will be harmed. It was anger that ran through me as a peaceful evening walk was clouded in darkness. How easy it was for my mind to fall to the days of battle. My eyes sought dark priests and shadowed assassins bearing Bhaal’s symbol… and found only darkness. Even as the inky blackness faded, I saw nothing.

So much for being able to walk without a minimum guard of Jonas. Poor man… he has better things to do than follow me around and watch for Shadows. Yet, my dear brother will stand, at my side, his blade ready. It has been he, not myself, who has kept my temper in check. For that I am grateful. It is sound reason that meets my temper. Blessed am I to have so many dear friends. My faith is my strength, my direction. Hope does light my path always, but it is those dear to me that give me the motivation, they that remind me of the important things. They are my Mercies… my laughter and friendship, the kindness, the comfort I draw from. Ilmater’s hand is ever at my back, and in my faith and in those dear to me, I have the means to stand.

‘Fear me.’

A simple whisper amid the dead who walked that dark place far to the south. Not the whisper of The Shadow… No harm came to those who traveled with me. Who is this that demands such of me? Are they prepared to be so disappointed? I lost my fear of whispers long ago. Yet I cannot be entirely sure that it was not a figment of my imagination either. I have not slept well, if at all these last few days.

I rested a while as Jonas, Siomir, Rith and Dajala stayed in quiet company. Not a dreamless sleep. Strange how our sleeping mind fears that which we convince our waking selves we do not. The foes change faces through time, the instruments of pain change, the loss and the grief changes with time… but always the nightmares are the same… A replaying of pains and shadows best left forgotten… and this is from one who speaks of the precious value of even the darkest memories… Often I wake more tired than when sleep found me. The body drawn from such dreams -remembers- so vividly it is as if surviving them again. Unpleasant… and often best avoided.

At least Tessian has rested peacefully under careful watch. How he lights my heart… the darkest of days seem brighter for his presence, even the fact that I barely sleep. It is easier to push away worry and anger, easier to laugh, to smile for his gentle presence. His is a worth that can’t be measured, he truly is a treasure… a grand and dear blessing. There is Mercy enough for me I think, and he is such. Ilmater smiled when our paths crossed, I am sure of it.

The small bit of rest I stole today may have been a mistake. I found it harder to concentrate, found my steps slower… if even at all. My mind is sluggish. I will have to rest soon. Whether I like it or not. I just don’t want The Shadow to have the satisfaction of seeing me ill at ease. We are transparent in our dreams, secrets are easier to find. The last thing he needs is more to hold against me. I know he watches, or at least some one does.

With so many enemies on the fringes of my daily works it is hard to say who watches or when… It doesn’t matter really. If they watch, they watch. It cannot be allowed to change my duties. The others are right in that. So today I went to the temple and did as I needed to do. I also left a note for Abby so that we can discuss the other issues at hand.

I also made my way to the meeting for the Triad. I can see much good coming of such a thing really. Why must it be a war and a war alone that draws us together… why not peace and good works also? We are allies in all aspects, by faith, and more. It will be good to see friendly faces come together to face our problems and bolster each other’s goals. Better unity will make it harder for the more ill at heart and the harsher faiths from gaining a foothold as the Bhaalists and Banites have done in the past.

The days have not been ideal by any means. It is clear there is still much work to do, but there is hope… There is ever hope. Always. Kindness comes from the most unexpected places. It is true one does not understand Mercy without understanding the want for it. One cannot offer comfort without first having been comforted. Each task, each trial teaches, and the lessons are precious. The lesson in recent events is Vigilance. Always keep watch for that which would deny mercy from those who have need of it.

So we stand and we endure. Our faiths are strong as is our wills. Mercy will prevail in this as in all else. There is no other end to such. We cannot falter, we will guard our steps that we will not waver. Mercy of Ilmater be with us. Keep safe those dear.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND FIFTY-SECOND ENTRY]

The day started well enough, and passed pleasantly. The conversations were cheery and light, for once there was little trouble. The shadows were light, if present even at all. I simply assume the presence of one enemy or another. Not that it matters. They would hear jokes about halos and wedding plans. Today was a simple day. Laughter came easily enough. No matter where I looked there was a kind face. Mostly at least. I sat comforted that those dear to me were safe. I felt at ease, despite being tired. Less pleasant topics were skirted for the lighter matters.

The only shadow was those on the faces of Emrys and Ian… and they were the only whisperers… I didn’t feel threatened by such a thing… but the chill that came from their hearts served to accentuate the ever present wound of recent events. How many hated that which they could not understand? I knew better than to offer words to either. Ian has become a silent watchman. There, ever ready with cold logic when I have need of it, but largely quiet. Emrys… of all the friends lost in this… it is his turning that hurts the most. I hold nothing against him, I understand his pain and his reasons… I simply wish I knew the words to say to draw him back from the shadows I see in his eyes. There is a darkness there I cannot explain. Pray Mercy I have not lost them to the darkness of days past… When my mind is clearer, I shall seek to salvage what I can… pray Mercy grant me the time.

As need and want separated the cheerful company, Jonas perhaps picked up on my restlessness. I was less than enthused about sleep. I feel so… exposed in my rest… and -that- frightens me. So we walked… headed south, for lack of any better idea. Content to walk in the easy peace of the evening. Indeed I had had little cause to worry. Jonas was ever watchful. I worry though, in keeping up with my long hours, that he is tired… still he wished to find something to do. I am more often than not, comforted by his calm. He is a needed balm when Tessian is busy with his tasks. My brother, and my soon to be husband… a bit of sanity in the waking world… if only my dreams were so easy to bring peace to…

But for now… on the road south, there was peace. We met up with Aethor and The Exarch. He is a good man, though I don’t hardly know him as well as I like. As we talked it was decided that all wished a bit of excursion… so of course we went to the one place I needn’t feel bad for drawing fist to bone and coming to blows. As it is so affectionately called… the Vault of Happy Hugs… to see … Squishy. I think it is safe to say there are many oddities in the world. Arivain’s humor being one of them. Still the elderly wizard wished to stretch his fingers, and Jonas wanted to smite ills, as those dear are prone to do. Seeing as they cannot smite Shadows, or even one Shadow in particular… we make due.

The outing went well. We fought well, moved as a group. With Volo, who met up with us in Beregost and Nashkell, it was a smooth outing indeed. I was impressed. My experience with wizards is limited… and I will admit my past experience has me quite jaded. Still, he is a good man. It was oddly refreshing to see a skilled wizard not mad with power or some other insane lust to inflict as much pain as possible… A good man, and a good wizard. Mercy smiles.

A bit of sightseeing and some time later in Nashkell, it was just Jonas and Elias and myself. We were pleasantly exhausted… well… they were. I was slowly becoming painfully aware of how tired I actually was. For the first time in days I was standing on the road… at sunset… with only my faith to keep me company and I prayed. Mercy of Ilmater… It was faith that got me down the road and to Candlekeep. By then I could hardly think. I was so tired. If Jonas or Joan, someone… could keep watch, a bit of sleep. Instead I spent a long night with long thoughts. Long conversations with one who I find unnerving, there is at least worse company. Distasteful as it was, it kept me awake.

By morning, my spirits had lifted as often is the case when I spend time in quiet meditation and prayer. A few protective prayers and I made my way to Baldur’s Gate. The walk was peaceful, no shadows, whispers or attacks… For that Mercy I was grateful. Perhaps that Mercy was offered that I might be prepared for what was yet to come… It is not my place to question the Hand of the Divine.

There were many smiling faces when I returned to the temple. It was a mistake. This will cement arguments that it is not safe for me to be even at the temple. I doubt staying in Candlekeep long term is a good idea. Perhaps Beregost? I know not at present. I must speak with Jonas and the others. I am still shaking…it is not fear… not entirely… there is anger… and grief. My burdens to bear in this are not yet done… and I pray the strength to continue. A package had arrived for me in my absence. The sisters were told it was teas and herbs. I took the small bundle to the kitchen. A good cup of tea was most needed.

I made my way into the kitchen. It was late, most were asleep. Our patrons were blessedly few. I opened the package of tea carefully with one hand as I drew the teapot of boiling water from the stove. There was a paper. I only read a bit of it before my eyes saw what was in the package. When I did the paper fell into the fire and was quickly consumed by the flames.

‘Death is but a door for me ‘Saint’ Merielle Williams…’

There, were two small skulls. Young children… so young. Mercy of Ilmater… I screamed. Juna and Addy were at my side quick enough. It was Sister Rachel, blessedly level headed who re-wrapped the tiny skulls. Addy was drawn to tears… poor woman. Once my faculties were recovered and the two children… tended… I spent some time in prayer, and we saw to re-blessing the sanctuary. It was delivered by someone. Though now, no one can say who, or when precisely. Not that it matters. It could be Bhaalists… it could not be. Unfortunately there are so many possibilities… It is hard to say.

Regardless, for now I am back at Candlekeep. For now… it is safe. Soon I should sleep. Mercy of Ilmater be with us… There are many enemies… unfortunately… this is a bit too personal for comfort.
~~

[LeslieMS]

// Yeah this should have been a combo entry probably... may add to it later, but this was sort of turning point, and thus notable. Thanks for reading darliings, sort of become a hobby of sorts. //

[ONEHUNDRED AND FIFTY-THIRD ENTRY]

Grand how a bit of rest can ease the troubles at hand and bring them to a manageable perspective. Mercy smiled this day passed. A balm in a time of exhaustion. A moment of peace for quiet reflection and renewal. Jonas took me for a walk… which is apparently another word for ‘Take Meri far away from everyone and everything, bore her to sleep with talk of politics and battle strategy, take her for a bit of exercise in the rain, and remind her that things aren’t so bad…’ Now you see why it is called a walk.

I am in far finer frame of mind. Focus has returned to broken thoughts. Nightmares did not even seek me in my respite. My worst enemy of the outing was a handful of oversized Orc whose size gave better proportion to their smell. I saw several faces I had not seen in far too long, even made a few new friends. It really is a lovely place that the elves have found for themselves. I wish them all the best in making of it what they must. I pray Mercy smile on them, that this time they might have better success.

Eventually the task of keeping me safe got the better of Jonas, and he sought rest. I spoke a bit longer with Siomir and the one whose name now escapes me. I shall have to write it down once I meet her again. I did not wish to walk back to the Keep, or anywhere on my own, so I chose to remain while Jonas napped. I am taking time to write this now after some considerable time in meditation. With clearer thought, and lifted spirits, I will return with Jonas once he wakes. Duties await, as do friendly faces, doubtless worried in light of recent events. No matter. There is strength in faith. There is much hope. Mercy smiles indeed. Perhaps soon there will be word from Trademeet… then more than Mercy shall smile, but too my heart. How blessed I am truly… More than any deserve.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED FIFTY-FOURTH ENTRY]

Life is some bittersweet configuration of moments between birth and death… the exact measure of each seems unknowable… perhaps until death. There is suffering enough in this world without suffering at our own hand… or our own thoughts. It was this that crossed my mind as I left the temple a few days passed. It was these thoughts that walked with me, and many others, as I made my way slowly south. Hardship effects many differently. Some become stronger and wiser for it, others… angry and shut away. It is the nature of some to shield their hearts, others to wear them open, another thing that is difficult to measure.

I made my way slowly to the camp, and found myself again among friendly faces… most of them trustworthy. Blessed indeed. Ivaris was troubled, to say the least. He held his silence and I did not press the issue. A small group made our way to Candlekeep. Among them the wizard Tiberius. I took great pride in remembering his name without aid of sketch or note… if only to mock him, for I know better… I find his -name- harder to remember… perhaps because the name he asks me remember, is harder to remember than the truth. The truth… is remembered without sketch or note. Something deep seeded and hated. Something not easily forgotten. I despise him for it. Yet I will hold his confidence. Let it not be said that I broke oath, even to he. This is a test of resolve. A match of wit… for now he may have his game. In the end there is only Mercy.

The festival was grand really. There were some lovely performances. Val, Joan, Selis… and so many others. Aethor even. Truly it was grand. So many performances of the heart. None though touched my own quite the same way that Val’s did. How my heart does break for those who would turn from Hope’s light and Mercy’s gentle comfort. How Bhaal must smile at the dissension… the strife left in the wake of his defeat. The war continues… all we won was a battle. And in the bittersweet loss of that child’s life… my dear child’s loss… so many turn to bitter anger and do not understand. The Crying Lord’s tears are as much my own, even though we both know that Billy’s spirit rests safe on Martyrdom with his dear sister… We weep.

I weep as they turn away. Once more stalwart than most, and now when they look on me, I see it there… the anger that Ilmater did not save him. Their hearts break, and mine will ever break for each… For each. It was finally that Ian and I spoke. He will speak to Emrys… and I pray it not too late to redeem them. Our conversation was long. At some moments I thought surely his silence would draw from me a rage that his pointed words did not. As our talk wore on it was not silence that drew my anger… it was the chill that came from his soul. How could he turn from them after working so long to have them?

Once I knew a man who had lost a family to fate and his own hand. Then something happened… and here was a man with a wife and daughter… two sons. One dead… one turned to darkness. He asked me my help. By all that is Mercy if I had known the outcome of such… I would have refused. Though he would hate me now, but perhaps I could live with such. What I find difficult to live with is the wife that grieves not only the loss of a daughter to a son lost long ago to darkness… but a husband. A man, who confused by the events that drew him to where he stands, wonders why his mother’s heart breaks and why his father is but a ghost. A memory? Not even that. A fragment of one.

He will not bend to his own heart, and thus mine shall break in his stead. Our exchange would lead to me throwing a rock at him… Ilmater forgive me. He didn’t dodge the last one… but he deserved it, and so help me if it forces him to remember he was human so be it. For a moment. He remembered. He left me there for a time. I did not care, didn’t care that I was alone, or that I could not find my path back. It didn’t matter. It left me time for prayer. For tears.

So of course when he returned I was a fine mess of emotion. I admit. I turn to anger to hide my own weakness. Venom is an easy defense. Though the wince as I struck my mark was enough to crumble my rage. He is not so lost as I thought. There is still hope… a faint ember. I have survived on such frail flickers of light. Mercy willing… he will too. I will see it mended. I will.

I spoke with Brother Rente at a bit of length today. Finally. His heart understands my own. He looked at me today, as a Saint, but also as a human being. As a friend. He smiled too. Not that cold bookish smile of a wizard analyzing his latest project’s success, but a smile, of true joy and kindness. We spoke with Niki who joined us for a time. There was talk of those who stand against Mercy. There are many. Oh how the Lord of Murder must so delight. How that draws me to such ire. There are whispers that Bhaal sends his faithful to me. They seek to settle the score in their favor. They seek my soul. I take contentment in the failure that awaits them for there is no end but Mercy’s… Murder cannot take what is not his. I have proven such. We have not fought so long to fall now.

There is much to do still it seems. If I am ever to know peace, I must first face my enemies yet again, and prove to them that I will not waver. I cannot falter, as Rente has been so quick to remind me, many look to me. I only pray that I do not mislead them. At least, now that he knows me so well, he still does not judge me harshly as I thought he would. Perhaps they are right… perhaps I am not so much the failure I see myself as. Perhaps I judge myself too harshly? Take strength in faith dear Meri, you have weathered worse… and apparently no one hates you for being human. Mercy smiles sometimes…
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND FIFTY-FIFTH ENTRY]

The Obsidian Soul… Ian. At first there was anger. When Myhun came to me to tell me the leader of the Obsidian Soul had been caught, I was relieved. One less enemy for us to face… and then I was angry. Furious that a man who so long had supported my dogma, supported my work… me… would turn so. Threaten us for doing Mercy’s work… Tell me so many times to stand strong in all I knew and believed… To threaten, to be the very thing we opposed. I was so angry it nearly blinded me. When the anger faded there was sadness… grief… and questions. Well not questions… One Question: Why?

Shall I hand you my heart dear friend? I think you missed. This heart that I promised only days before was doomed to break forever in your stead. You who refuse to feel… And break it has. Break it will. The least you can do is tell me why. What good would those words do me now? Would the why of it matter? He is bitter over the loss of his daughter, bitter over a life that has shown him so little kindness. Now he turns away. How I tried. Mercy of Ilmater how I tried and how I failed him. I had asked his forgiveness then and he swore there was nothing to forgive. If that is true then why wrong me so?

I have known the effects of betrayal. I have seen it. Watched it… mended its wake… never have I understood it so thoroughly. I suppose now in the least, I can thank him for this somber lesson. There was no need for it… Innocent bystanders have fallen to this vigilante justice. People who had paid penance for crimes committed have been killed again… beheaded and burned in no kind fashion. Our own temple and good works threatened for the dogma we uphold. Here I thought none could hate us as such save for Bhaal and his allies… Maybe Loviatar… a few others… but from one I counted as so dear a friend.

This is the man that kept me standing against onslaught after onslaught. Question after doubting question from within and without of the Ilmatari. The man who traveled with me to regain Tessian’s freedom. If I were to count the number of times he had been my standing stone amid a storm… I may well have an easier time numbering the stars! One thing does not go perfectly right, and it crumbles from beneath me.

Does he think I do not grieve Billy’s loss? Is that it? I who must stand for the sake of others… who must be both beacon and strength. If I cried all the tears there were to cry or all of this… There would be no time to do anything! No time to speak one last name and save a soul that could have well damned us all! Gods how I miss him, how my heart breaks! Salt in the wound it is… I keep thinking back to our last conversation, and every conversation since. I want to scream. Why?!

Surely he can see I suffer enough. He has said so. Was every simple kindness a falsehood? The best any mortal can do, and it will never be enough for ones such as he. He knows! Blast it all he KNOWS my every pain and every wound… he knows! And still… Still he does this. It boggles me! When the anger and the hurt passes, all that remains is Why. I am wary to speak with him, Myhun has offered… Jonas has said he will go with me. The others think it is a good idea. To ask Why. I have my doubts… perhaps it is not doubt that keeps me from seeking to ask. Perhaps I fear the answer. Yet even now, as I dread it… I know I will go.

Once again stand on the opposite side of the bars to one and ask: Why? Mercy of Ilmater… I beg your strength… Mercy find him. Mercy keep him. Mercy forgive him… and forgive me my lord, if my forgiveness is slow, and my temper is quick. Stand with me Ilmater… for all who might forsake me, you are there, ever with your hand at my back. Without which, I would have fallen…
~~

My quiet thoughts found gentle company. The anger has fled me at last, fallen away into the sea beneath Candlekeep. The wound tore there by fury will mend. All things mend given enough time and care. Whispers of enemies relish in the pain of the day passed. They try to twist this, reminding me that there is none I can trust. They relish in this small victory as they did when there was fighting within the Ilmatari… as Abby and I stood divided, now they seek to swoop on this. To try to needle a vulnerable wound… I stand mostly silent. The shock of it still lingers, but the anger is gone.

I spent the day in trusted company, my mind reeling with the days passed. The others were quietly supportive or offered few gentle words. Slowly the destructive emotions fell away there in the winds that threw the waves upon the cliff face. The sadness had even started to pass. My mind began working for some shred of something to save him yet… to salvage him… if such a thing is possible. If any are in need of a second chance, it is he. I wonder if trust is so easy to mend?

Jonas had other things to tend to, so he left me under guard of the elves. We made our way southward only to be set upon by wyverns at the fringes of Beregost. Seldom do they attack the city, content to remain in the valley between there and Nashkell. Something had them most upset. As we pushed our way southward toward Gullykin, we were attacked again. We thought to check the nests, see if we could not find what had them riled to such fury. It was sad, to look on it now. We were beset by a large one, she rivaled in size with anything I have ever seen. Her fury was frightening. More than once I thought we would lose the fight, and never know why she was so upset.

She finally fell with a forlorn cry… even from such a creature… it broke my heart. Though comparatively it was only a small fracture, for it broke in half when we came upon her mangled nest. Careless sell-swords shorn apart by her massive claws greeted us first. As we eyed the senseless carnage I wondered. So often they only attack to defend or to eat… this was a massacre… Though we would find not without cause. Adventurers will steal an egg or two from time to time. Some will be lost to predators or ill fortune. What we saw in the nest… was the true massacre. Every egg was shattered and destroyed. Not for any purpose it would seem, than wanton destruction. The beasts had only sought to defend… in their rage and grief saw all who walked as we, as the initial attackers, as threats.

The others searched for things of use, or clues. They were beyond mending, so I blessed them. I blessed them to see to it that their bodies could not be used nefariously. With only one shovel, it was deemed impractical to bury all of them in a timely fashion. We wished to hurry, for the remaining beasts had mourned the fallen, and we did not wish to be around when they grew angry again. The others lay the bodies in the nest, and I said several prayers. They set the nest alight, and we watched a moment before turning to be on our way. The rest of the trip to the camp was quiet, and I was becoming painfully aware of how tired I was.

I learned there was so little for me to fear in the beauty of that place… The only thing none can protect me from is my own dreams. This dream… perhaps spurned by the turmoil of the days passed, seemed so very real. I dread sleep so fully, and I have seen most nightmares enough times to know them for what they are. How is it that even as we dream, we know them to be figments of thoughts twisted by fear and doubt, we still fear them? How is it that the fear may yet linger as we wake, even as we see them in light of what they really are?

This dream… I opened my mind’s eye into a peaceful place… but it was not the comforting peace… instead… it was unsettling. I heard murmurs and mutters. Transfixed on the graveyard that slowly came into focus, I murmured a prayer. It was then that I noticed the small child walking away from the others. I looked about and saw no immediate danger, so I approached him with a soft smile and a calm demeanor. Just as I got close enough to speak to him he twisted in great pain and fell. His cries of anguish still echoing as I moved to where he fell, only to see his body crumble to dust and fade away.

I felt small… I looked about at a world that now felt looming and cold, the peace, uneasy or not was shattered. Did something dark lurk in the shadows? What caused the child to fall so? I approached the other children timidly, whispered prayers left my lips with each halting step. The murmurs of the children became a din in my ears:

'Saintmerisaintmerisaintmeri…'

It echoed and danced off of every surface in the dream. Until all at once… all fell silent and a small voice was heard.

‘Come Saint Meri aid us…’

I moved tentatively forward, almost fearful, though I could not explain why.

‘We have been waiting for you.’

‘Waiting?’

Rather than answer the child motioned to the bloody path before me. At the top of the hill, a gate… in the darkness it was hard to tell what was truly what. The whole place went eerily quiet. I could hear the beating of my own heart, and nothing else. The children, who even now loomed over me, seemed to be waiting for me to move forward. I did so finally… a few uneasy steps.

I froze as I heard the agonizing screams from behind me. The children I had passed fallen away and withered to dust as I passed. I dared not move forward. A desperate prayer left me then as I struggled against the dream. Some how it seemed so impossibly real… the fear so cloistering I could not breathe… I looked at the other children, standing silently standing, and waiting for me to pass, faces unreadable. I dared not step forward. Helplessly I looked at each child, and to the gates.

‘I don’t want to…’

The pleading words unfinished as I choked past my own fear… the gates before me opened, bid me forward, though I wished it not. With a painful slowness I stepped, and stepped again. The screaming of the children around me became some horrid chorus that wrenched my gut. I screamed for the force harming them to stop… I even tried to not move forward… no matter what I did… they fell. Until at last there was one child still standing between the gate and I. I heard menacing laughter from somewhere beyond the gate and I glared at it.

‘Please stop! Stop hurting them! Leave them alone.’

I pleaded desperately as I looked to the last child. My heart fell into the pit of my stomach, I felt cold, useless. For all my trials, so often did I feel unfit for them, and yet I pushed it away. I endured… I made my way down my path as I was bid do so… this… Now. Now there was no hiding from the feeling of failing. I looked desperately about. A single word left my lips as I looked to her, a pleading prayer wrapped thought…

‘Don’t…’

With that she fell in such pain and terror I clamped my hands over my hears and squeezed my eyes tightly shut. I prayed to wake… I prayed for some sort of solace… and opened my eyes to see the gates looming in front of me. When had I stepped up to the gate? When had it closed?

I peered through the gates iron bars wary of what I would I would see. My eyes fell on many familiar faces. Faces I had known for some time, faces I hardly knew, but familiar all the same. My eyes widen in utter terror as my gaze fell on a small child. He looked so much like Billy… but he wasn’t… still the similarity was enough to knot my very heart. I jumped as in that moment the gates flew open and I was urged forward by some unseen hand. The child spoke, his voice strange in my ears.

‘Greetings Saint.’

‘What is going on?’

‘We have all gathered here just for you?’

‘For me…?’

‘Through life those who aide you will eventually fall. One by One.’

For emphasis at the words life, fall and one, both times… someone fell to anguishing screams and withered into dust. I watched in terror and loathing, unable to move.

‘Bhaal’s lies!’

My indignant counter came to the child who loomed over me. The boy simply looked over me in a cold and empty way. His cold demeanor reminding me of Ian, and I felt my heart twist.

‘There is nothing you can do its part of the cycle.’

More fell.

‘We Will Stand!’

And one more.

‘One by one they will stand to aide…’

Again at One, both times and Stand, someone fell into writhing pain before falling away into dust.

‘Stop…’

My plea was one from the very depths of me as yet another garbled scream reverberated through me.

‘Will you chose who takes your place?’

Two More. I looked to the child. I was bereft and though for now there was a pause in the dying around me… the screams echoed… and echoed… I felt ill, so small and so ill.

‘Choose? I cannot choose which order to follow and which to not! It is not my place. I was bid to stand. I… I can’t--’

Another.

‘Stop!’

I closed my eye, crying as I prayed.

‘What do I do... please stop it! leave them alone!’

I heard them falling… dying. All at once it went silent for an instant and I heard Jonas speak. When I opened my eyes it was only Jonas and the child standing.

‘We have saved a place for you Meri.’

As Jonas spoke I stood looking up at myself. I watched myself run to the corner of the graveyard. I even heard myself speak… heard myself beg to be taken in place of the others, and I shook my head.

‘Stop! No! That is not my path… that is not my place. I was bid to stand!’

My argument was cut short as my focus drew on myself laying in an open grave. I awoke, the taste of dirt in my mouth and choking on it. I screamed, soaked in sweat and so tangled in the blanket and my robes I could not break free of it… I could not escape the fear, I heard myself scream, all the while wondering how I was not choking on more dirt. I clawed and pushed the dirt away from me frantically.

It was not until I had floundered my way out of the tent, gasping for air and choking on screams, confronted by Rith, Siomir, Jonas and a few others. A dream. It was only a dream, they assured. Slowly, the fear that had gripped me then let loose and I began to calm. The others spoke gentle assurances. Finally my confidence returned, as no dream can counter sure faith and swift logic.

‘Bhaal’s Lies.’

I spoke with a quiet finality, as I did, a soft rain fell. Jonas, looked to me with a bit of a smile.

‘A gentle rain to wash away the lies then.’

The rest of the evening passed mostly quietly. I felt more tired than I had before I lay down to rest, and it wasn’t long before complete exhaustion took hold. The others went off to rest, and I sat a long time in the rain. I listened, I prayed, at last I felt the Hand of Mercy, and smiled… Comforted, I made my way back to the tent, put it back together, changed into dry robes and fell fast into a dreamless sleep. A Small Mercy, but a welcome mercy none the less. I would wake better rested, but wary. Jonas and I would make our way back once we were both ready. Must I hide to find sleep? Mercy of Ilmater be with me… grant me the will to stand until peace is mine to have… In the end there is only Mercy. Bhaal can save his threats and his lies. He will not have what is not his to take!
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND FIFTY-SIXTH ENTRY]

Where to start? I could not even sum the day. Yes I could. The day hurt. What didn’t hurt was comfort offered by those dear, and the solace found in forgiveness and prayer. A day of tests. Tests of resolve, tests of patience… tests of faith. Simple as that. The day started uneasy. Most do not see past the carefully placed façade of strength. Carefully placed words can hide pain, fear, even anger. Its when they learn to see the scared little girl beneath that I worry. Did I even have cause to worry? Who can say?

I woke with a sense of dread I could not explain after only an hour or two of sleep. My morning prayers did little to ease it. I tended my chores quickly and easily enough. I baked for Ivaris’ birthday. An apple cobbler and several little honey cakes. I was pleased with the work, and found it a welcome distraction to the worries lurking. The comfort found amid baking is astounding. To take things that apart mean little and turn them into something that makes people smile… After all what is wrong with one more reason to smile… or a dozen… So I made cookies too. Several batches. Enough for the temple to pass out, some for Jade, some for Ivaris and the others. Then the bread and soup for the day. Until at last each dish was cleaned again, and the temple was so full of pleasant aromas, the floors spotless… everything cleaned and ordered, dusted and placed just so… it was barely mid morning.

Restless, I walked. I ran into Jonas, then Madison. My spirits lifted some. I made my way to Maltz’s to tend to some things, and stepped out to the whispers Tiberius. Fortunately Jonas returned from his own errands, which spared me from much more jibes from the wizard. Jonas and I made our way to the merchant camp to find Madison. The conversations were mostly pleasant. There were moments of worry. I cannot help but be wary these days. Too many bear me ill, but lately my worry has not been for me… but for the others. For all those dear… so many… too many to name, that I wish to keep safe. They are aware of what must be done now. We will be guarded.

Still it was mostly pleasant. I was approached by a fellow in the employ of miss Selis. I will admit to being nervous when he said he would be my guardsman to see Selis. Trust is an uneasy thing for me to extend of late. Jonas had Madison see me safely there, and Zach was never too far out of sight. This is both a blessing and a bane. Good to know that if I am in any sort of duress, they are quick to act, bad if I need to keep them from being overzealous and killing a rude offender. Like that Dwarf who approached as we crossed the bridge. I must say he had manners that were uncouth even for a dwarf. Called me some less than appropriate things, implying a less than appropriate profession. Even offered gold much to my insult. Still, what nearly well cost him his life was the fact that he could not keep his hands to himself. I cannot honestly guarantee that the slight will be so graciously overlooked by the others. It was all I could do to keep Zach and Fang from killing him. The hired guardsman was ready to remove fingers. By some stroke of mercy Tessian, Jonas and Siomir were not present. That could have been difficult. Fortunately the Fist acted rightly enough. The fool Dwarf’s misconception that all women in robes offered feminine graces freely, no doubt quickly clarified.

We continued to cross the bridge finally, to help a fellow reclaim a lost rooster. He was a pleasant sort. It was growing dark as we finally made the span of the bridge and the road between the Merchant Camp and the city, and finally to the Blade and Stars. All I can say is I pray miss Selis pay the poor dear well. His manners and performance was exemplary. He weathered each little stop to spare blessings or kind words with patience, and was never unkind, save when lack of manners called for such.

The meeting with Selis was confusing at best. Fragments and figments of stories I had touched upon… and some that had left their own manner of mark in my memory. A shadow long forgotten… Bahl’hal The Shadow Singer of Aria… and a host of other names… The memory that chases the name still stands the small hairs on the back of my neck at end. Frightening how close I was to oblivion then. How close I was to being little more than a pet. A puppet… The blasted Mirrors… the music. I remember when he asked me to restore him… without all of his pieces. How many fragments remain even though the creature is gone, the darkness that compelled him destroyed. It is theorized, I think… perhaps it is fact and I misunderstood, that Alastar was a piece of Bahl’hal. That name was witchingly familiar until the Countess was mentioned. He was the darling vampire who wished to have me over for dinner. Ugh my skin still crawls… He was thought destroyed. Or escaped, or destroyed and revived…

Why did the Lathandarites tell Selis’ guardsman to seek me out? As close as I was to him at his end… I know little of Bahl’hal, and more than I care to. I temporarily traded my freedom, my peace of mind, for the lives of the others. I was confident that I could either escape him, or they would find a way to destroy him… instead… I nearly did not. At least he left my memories in tact … I think. If he didn’t it would be hard to tell, my mind is so fragmented regardless. In the end I talked him into his own end. To surrender to Mercy offered, and to offer Mercy to those he held… A miracle in its own making. A saving grace, the hand of the Crying Lord at work. Still… even in that… all I have are the notes in these pages. Through the siege and such, my notes on the Vampiress, Alastar and some of my notes on Bahl’hal are missing. Or that is to say I have vague recollection that there are things not in these pages that should be… and no idea what they are. Only the lingering and dreadful sensation that something is -forgotten-.

The meeting concluded with what little information to be gleaned as it were. Or at least it seemed like little to us then… perhaps more information was exchanged than it at first appears… if we could only piece it all together. Regardless I left after trading words with Tiberius. Unsettled by the news that my dealings with the Shadow Singer may not be concluded, I was further unsettled by the message from Jonas. Ian. Joan wasn’t happy. She headed immediately to find Myhun, and I sought Jonas. I struggled to gather my thoughts to some sort of order.

I must ask forgiveness. For my temper. For nearly striking him. I know that words were exchanged. I can’t remember them all. Blurred by anger and twisted by the chasm that stands between two people. He seemed mocking… I let him rile me. His lack of emotion, it angered me. I wanted him to feel… to remember what it was to be a person. To remember the family he -had- and not everything he lost. If we live on all we lose… we lose ourselves… We fall. We leave our paths. We die. Blast it all did I have to hit him with a rock to get him to feel? To get him to remember? So yes. I moved to slap him. I was stopped by … well everyone but Ian. Jonas took my arm, Joan on my heels and a guard square between us. I remember thinking if I could just… Like the rock… just remind him! I remember wanting to cry and to scream, to understand… Today was not the day for understanding. This answer was not mine to have yet.

I remember the last thing I said to him. This man so chilled… who was he? He was not the man who stood at my side for so long. The only person at my side longer than Ian is Emrys. Emrys. How will he take the death of a dear friend. Where Ian is ice… Emrys has become … something else. Ian. How my heart breaks for him… for his wife… for the daughter we have yet to find… even the son we have yet to stop… For the son who has not turned from Mercy’s graces. How my heart breaks. I told him it would… for as long as his refused to… Doomed to break eternally in your stead. That was what I had told him. The last thing I said to him, oh yes. That I remember… As clearly as I remember his empty, hollow eyes.

‘Was it you that threatened the temple? May I ask that much?’

‘… it was. I let my anger best me.’

Why did he hesitate? Anger? This man so devoid of anything? Could he feel enough to be angry? I pushed away my own anger. Anger, it was at least a feeling. A dangerous one, but a feeling. Past tense… It Was… Was. That word… more than all his others ran through me in some undertone to all that has ever been said. He was someone I could trust. He was someone who cared. He was someone who understood. He was someone who lived. He was someone who felt. He was … he just… was. No more. I think anger was the only thing that kept tears at bay. The indignant betrayal, it hurt, and it held the tears. Something then held the anger in check. Everything I was taught. All I stood on: Mercy to all… even the least deserving. The last thing I said to him devoid of anger, full of the conflict left in the wake of his actions… a prayer. A simple well wishing… and a single truth:

‘My heart breaks for you Ian. May Mercy find you…’

He was taken away… so that his body could die as his spirit had, and I prayed the fury died with him… the thirst for revenge… let it die. Let all ill die. Let him find light and hope… somewhere. If he was given a second chance… let him use it. Let him return to those who care for him. Those prayers mingled with so many thoughts. Ian was right about that much. I lacked clarity. I always hated it when he was right. Still he was usually right about things in a good way. This didn’t feel so good. It felt… mocking. Reeling with what I saw as a failing, and a death that bore me more grief than I dared admit, I hid in my fury a few more moments. The anger had fled me long before we left the city. The answers are not mine to hold, and neither is my indignant anger. Mercy in forgiveness. If any Mercy was to find him, in life or death or all that came after… It started there. In forgiveness. I should have told him to his face, now I pray the message reaches him.

We made our way south, to where Ivaris’ birthday party was wrapping up. Our arrival was timely enough it seems. There was trouble when we got there. Zach. They were speaking of summoning demons. Insisting the Adamant was killing him… it wasn’t hurting Zach… but the demon bound to him. It was the only thing keeping him alive. Mercy granted him this for a reason. There wasn’t time to analyze or explain. I moved forward and placed a hand over his that clutched the gem. I heard the demon speak, knew not his words, I cared not. The demon would not keep him. I stood. I spoke. I told the thing to let go, and it no doubt rebutted. It did not matter to me. Through a great deal of will and effort, the hold on man was released. He was mended. The bond between Jonas and I was strong then, for it was not only my strength that mended Zach, but Jonas’ as well.

The demon was gone. The gem changed from Ilmater’s bound hands, to a clear circle. It waited for him to choose his new path. For now he would need to rest. Later we would speak more. Much more, and at the end of it, I would remember that I have yet to truly make a choice I regret. There are regrets, grieves, pains, but I can live with my choices. I will learn to live with my losses

The rest of the evening passed in a mix of things. There was dancing, laughter. Of course I had cookies still. The night was lovely. Slowly, I made peace with all that had passed. Zach awoke and began contemplating the path in front of him now, for it had opened. Freedom does a wonderful thing for one’s possibilities. I know this well.

Siomir and Jonas had of course found out about the impertinent dwarf. Both were decidable angry. Jonas was distracted enough not to ask direct questions, so the depth of the slight is lost on him at present. Siomir on the other hand… well, he knows my way with words. He kept his queries direct when my own distraction left my words careless. I really do worry for the dwarf. Time will tell. Hopefully the fool learned his lesson and won’t require any lessons from Siomir. If he knows what is good for him he will mind his manners.

Finally we made our way back to the city. We ran into Alamin. Jonas said I should tell him the truth about his father. Is it not enough the damage Ian has done? I hadn’t the words or the strength to speak of it to him. I was exhausted. I spent a long while in prayer. What do I say? The truth serves well… but how to speak it gently? I will seek the words, and when it is time… he will hold the truth. I pray he is more wise than his father. I pray his faith is stronger. I pray Mercy be with what remains in Ian’s wake.

For now I pray for rest… A moment to pause and seek stillness amid the raging turmoil around me. Mercy keep us. Guide us… and keep us well…
~~