Murder Rended... Mercy Mended...

[LeslieMS]

Anger Divided

Billy, for all his endurance over the course of events… was still bearing more than any child should be asked to bear. His mark was gradually becoming more prominent, as was the toll it exacted from him. Despite my very best efforts to keep his own fragile flicker of hope alight… I was watching it dim in his eyes. Still there, though. We clung to that, he and I… as though it was all that might save us. He was tired of being stuck in the temple more often than not. Understandably so. The storm clouds gathered, and one day… they broke.

His words were sharp, his anger was absolutely heart breaking. Coupled with the lack of sleep, and the strain of recent weeks, months… His words fell over me like heavy blows. At the close of his tirade, which perhaps may have done him more good than harm… We decided to risk moving him. The next safest place would be Candlekeep. He would have a bit more freedom there. He was angry with me, and while I understood, it was a sharp blow in the months we had endured. He would comply with my wishes to remain where I could protect him, though he would speak to me very little in the coming tenday. He saw me more as a jailor than a protector.

This grew worse when I told him of Dianne’s death. He had wanted to rush off and offer himself. So precious he was, that he would sacrifice himself not only for the sake of his sister, but the Coast… Though if he were allowed to do that, it would damn us all. It was a painful day to explain to him everything that was at stake. To explain to him why Dianne had died. To explain to him why more would die… Why we couldn’t give up. Tearfully, reluctantly, I told him everything I should have told him from the beginning. It took several days and a great deal of patience before he finally understood. A mercy immeasurable when he finally hugged me again and told me he loved me…

Candlekeep was reluctant to take us on as guests again. They weighted the trouble we could be and the risk we posed, against the risks of us fleeing further and possibly getting caught by our foes. It was this threat that an Avatar of Bhaal presented… not my own careful negotiations that won us safe harbor. Allies had begun to grow thin. The common people were turning, and any place safe at all was becoming rare. I was grateful for even this reluctant sanctuary… especially given what was to come.

The people were being swayed by dying children, dying loved ones, who were lain at my feet. They said the killing would stop if they had the boy. In my heart I knew it for lies. So many would die if the Lord of Murder gained a footing on Faerun… the losses we had endured so far would be nothing… But it did not stop them from hating me for it. Grieving mothers screamed to me, begged me for the one Mercy they thought I withheld. How could I be Chosen of the Crying Lord, when they buried their children, for all intent and purpose dead at my hand, and my child remained safe. Billy remained safe. Barely.

Emrys and Ian stood by me… A few others… So very few. Things were further complicated by my past catching up with me in its own way, Tessian’s father… Many blows that struck hard, very close together. Often it was only Ilmater’s gentle whisper that kept me standing. The worst of blows came when the founder of the Ilmatari Shrine in the city, came to see me at Candlekeep.

She and I had not seen eye to eye from the start. I greatly respected Sister Abby, but would not forego my oath to Ilmater. She called me blasphemous to Mercy’s own compassion, a fool to follow the god before the ideal. There were many terse exchanges between she and I. At the time, she outranked me. When she told me she suspected my visions false… and of the near riots at the Temple… I was shocked. She was the first of the Ilmatari to turn against me… I was devastated when she bid me not to return to the temple for the safety of the people.

The enemy worked well. They had turned my closest peers against me. In those days, it was a Tiefling wizard, a formerly demon possessed warlock, and a Faithless who stood loyally by me. While the safety of the keep was a boon, it wasn’t an impenetrable barrier. One of Bhaal’s priests had gone so far as to convince slews of adventurers that he was Billy’s grandfather or father, and that he would pay vast sums of gold for him to be returned from the hands of the insane, misguided, fanatic. Fortunately, I was just able to convince enough people that it was a Bhaalist trick. We kept him hidden, but at that point, I knew I’d not be able to let him from my sight, or I would lose him for certain.

Sister Abby and Brother Rente had both gone so far as to suggest I send him away, to those who can protect him, then take my own life to protect the secret… A suggestion that was blasphemous to even consider. Desperately I tried to convince those who now stood against me that they were only aiding Bhaal’s goals. In the day I fought and argued the truth of what I knew in my heart. I was sworn to keep him safe. I, and no other. It was suggested we take to the woods, drawing trouble away from the Coast… Emrys had laughed. A child and a healer with little to no experience in the wilds, on the run from hundreds? We wouldn’t last a tenday. He had told me we wouldn’t be leaving. Few were my allies, but it was just enough.

I reached to the depths of all I was, trying to cling to hope in a losing battle. Ilmater stood ever by us, even through the darkness. I’ve been asked how I stood alone… In truth, though Bhaal’s faithful were doing a good job of angering folks and turning them against us… even if Ian and Emrys had turned… at one time the two of them my only allies… I never stood alone.

When I didn’t think I could stand at all, Ilmater’s hand was there… Faith held me up, dear friends kept me standing… In my heart, I knew we would endure, that I would not waver. I prayed not to falter and fail… I prayed for the Coast, for Billy… I was later accused of forgetting to pray for myself, but Even if I dared not ask Mercy’s Grace… it was ever given. If all the world turned its back, Ilmater’s hand never left my back.
~~

[LeslieMS]

Outnumbered

We had been at Candlekeep for a tenday or so. I thought myself safe enough. The few allies I had at the time, had insisted I remain guarded. I insisted that they waste few resources on me, and guard Billy instead. Looking back on it, it was one of many mistakes. However looking back on it, had I not made such a mistake… Things might not have worked out as they did in the end… The implication of such a thought was dire.

The inn was mostly empty. It was still several hours before dawn, and quiet. A man I had seen many times, Liaison for the Nashkell Trade Emporium came in. Billy was well guarded, and sound asleep upstairs. Winthrop had gone to tend to some things before going to bed himself. I sat there, reading and writing… doing whatever I could to occupy myself since sleep so seldom found me those days. When it did, my mind conjured nightmares that my soul feared would come to pass.

At first I welcomed the conversation, the exchange of civil pleasantries. By the time I realized I might be in trouble, he stood between me, and any exit. He removed his hood and revealed a face marked by the Zhents. He told me that I would give Billy to the Bhaalists. Here stood before me, my enemy’s ally. The admitted high priest of the temple of Bane. His voice was sickeningly calm when he made his ultimatum: Deliver the boy or I would deliver the suffering to your feet. Told me I had the power to end it all…

As things often did, it went from bad to worse. Our exchange was interrupted by a wizard. A Thayan no less… a Necromancer even worse. And it got worse as the conversation continued. He was seeking Soulkeep too, was also Bhaalist, and took the opportunity add his own threats. His attacks on my mind left me with a blinding headache, tell tale blood trickled from my nose and ears as I struggled to focus on what they were saying to each other.

An alliance was struck. The Banite offered more sickening sweet promises of death and decay. Saying it was in my power to stop. Indeed it was, but not by surrendering Billy. Faith and stubborn defiance kept me standing… I truly feared it would come to blows.

"I could take you to the temple for torturing. Perhaps then your tongue would not dance with such courage in your mouth."

For a moment worried he would do as he offered, and drag me off to his temple. While I doubted Bane’s servants could do worse than the Drow or any other tormentor I had endured… The prospect of not being able to see to Billy with so many threats from so many sides was terrifying.

A sharp blow to the face sent me reeling into unconsciousness. When I woke, Winthrop was looking over me, very worried. I was a crumpled heap on the floor. I asked after Billy, who thankfully was blissfully unaware of the danger that had lurked so close. Those who had been guarding him took him to the tower there, where he would be safer. I drew myself up and stumbled out of the inn, looking for help… someone to warn. The Banites had been lurking right under our noses, and now I knew that the ranks of Bhaal’s allies included Bane of course… but also Thay.

I came across Jonas Rokranon and Maximus Angrius, a few others. At the time, Jonas was, for all intents and purposes against me. Sister Abby and Brother Rente had swayed him, and many others. While they were not allied with the Bhaalists… they saw me as an unbalanced woman, walking a dangerous line between strong faith and uncontrolled fanaticism. I told them what I could. I was quickly assured that there was no way the water could be poisoned. I was also assured Billy would remain safe. I fell back into unconsciousness shortly thereafter. The Banite’s words ran through my mind. My own stubborn faith… I prayed it would be enough. Oh, how I prayed.

"Answer me. How can the boy bring more death in Bhaalist hands?"

"They will not have the boy. No good will come of it. No peace, and I am no fool. Bhaal would wash the Coast in blood."

"And you have peace now?"

"Peace will find me when duty is done."

"I can end your duty now priestess."

"You do not decide the measure of my duty!"

"No but death does."

"Death may find me, but not before Duty is done. Death? Mercy will find you in swift death. If not by my hand, then that of another."

"You threaten me with my death?"

"No threats."

"Hmmm good."

"Simply a promise. Mercy will find you. Mercy finds all in one way or another."

"Do not speak of things you do not have control of."

"Mercy is in the Hands of Ilmater. I need not control anything, only know fact for what it is."

"Interesting thoughts. Empty words. You had your warning. It is your responsibility now. Have a pleasant rest priestess.”

The realization at how close I had come to losing so much, and to failing those in my care, kept my rest from being anything but pleasant. My dreams were haunted by past torments, present worries… and a future that utterly terrified me. Mercy’s eyes had remained on me that night. It had been my only saving grace. After that, I no longer argued guards. I realized I couldn’t keep my oath if I wasn’t kept safe and whole.

Little did I know, the Thayan had not wasted his moment on just the Soulkeep as I had thought. I wouldn’t fully realize the shadows closing in on my path until later.
~~

[LeslieMS]

Turning Points

To this day, I don’t know what exactly the Thayan had done that night, though I have a feeling whatever it was, and the hand of the Lord of Murder himself, are what swept me from the safety of Candlekeep to the bowels of the Bhaalist temple. Billy had to be willingly surrendered. I did not. One minute I was safe at Candlekeep, having just finished some toast and tea, chatting with Ian and a couple others. The next minute I was being bound to a rough wooden post.

I was blinded, some sort of magic… though there was little light to find me in the place I found myself. My time in the Underdark had ruined my eyes. My hearing had never been very good, damaged as long as I could remember, made worse by the years that came after. However, my sense of smell and taste and touch were painfully acute this day. I didn’t need my eyes, or very sharp ears to get a feel for the place I was in.

It was damp, smelling of sickly decay. The air tasted of blood. Screams of agony assaulted my ears, echoing off of stone walls and floors. These were a back drop to the chants of at least a dozen offering homage to Bhaal. My next sensation was of acid-laden robes being lain over me. They fit tightly and clung to my skin. The acid made it’s way through my own robes, finding its way to my sensitive skin. I stilled. My every movement only drew more acid to my flesh.

My vision began to clear finally. Figures loomed, dark and imposing in the meager light of the room. Two large creatures acted as guards, and looked to be something from the lower planes, though what they were or from where, I couldn’t exactly say. The Thayan necromancer was there. As was the one I then knew was Bhaal’s high priest.

I prayed. Prayed as I tried to loosen the ropes that bound me. I’d be lying to say I wasn’t terrified. I feared a great deal at that moment. I prayed as I argued. I rooted myself to my faith, the pain becoming secondary. Their promises to end my suffering if I would simply surrender Billy got them no where…

I can’t remember what I said to the wizard, but it earned me a sharp slap that left me dizzy. It was a slow agonizing process as they sought to wear me down. I wish I could say they failed. That my will was strong enough to withstand it. As they showed me images of those they had killed in Bhaal’s name… those who they laid at my feet. Those they blamed my stubborn pride for. The children… Even Dianne…

I whispered prayers. I wept. I shut my eyes against the images they conjured, but my mind readily supplied the missing details. In truth, I -was- partly to blame for each death. I could have surrendered. I could have allowed them to take more lives and cause more suffering than they had so far by tenfold. I could have washed my hands of it. Loyal friends had turned distrustful enemies. My own temple and home had cast me out. Children had died, one of which was dear to me as my own. I could have failed. I could have turned my back on the oath I had made at the feet of my god as so many had asked me to.

Instead I prayed. I bled. I wept. I stood. I suffered. Never did I stop praying. Never had they gone unanswered. I knew in my heart, though the world had turned against me… My god had not… and so long as that remained true, I knew my feet walked the right path. My faith was my strength, and in that moment… My salvation.

Gentle whispers broke through the screams. My strength faded and I slumped against the post. Yet something held me up, and it wasn’t the ropes that held me in place. My skin was raw, blood now colored the robes, the pain that was almost unbearable began to fade. When the darkness began to recede from my peripheral view, replaced by soft white light… I thought myself dying. I whispered, a shudder working through me.

“Mercy of Ilmater, forgive me…”

My foes, who stood around me like rabid dogs eying a meal, took this to heart. Pushed harder, cruel words and painful blows for hours. It went on for what seemed an eternity. Each time I thought unconsciousness or death would claim me, a soothing and gentle hand drew me up from the darkness. He would not let me fall away. I was exhausted. The worst of it no longer touched me. Every time I felt myself fading, a whisper found me.

“I"m here… Remain strong, my child.”

Ilmater wept with me, he bore the worst of my pains, soothed body, mind and spirit as my tormentors needled away at my resolve. Every moment they gained ground, He pushed them back. At some point, a small group burst into the temple sanctum. They had thought to rescue me, but they were too few.

I couldn’t say how, save that it was the Hand of Mercy… but they left unharmed. I offered a grateful prayer that I hadn’t cost more lives. The Bhaalists hurried to re-secure the temple. Then the wizard and the high priest returned their attention to me. Those few, loyal ones who had come, willing to die for my sake… both bolstered my courage and broke my heart. Who was I to ask such a sacrifice? I didn’t think I would ever see any of them again. My prayer was that Ilmater would help them keep Billy safe as he had me…

The hours inched along as we shot retorts and threats back and forth. The high priest spoke, though I didn’t hear his words. He raised a boned hand, glowing with foul energy, drawing it across my face in an agonizing arc. This broke through the comfort that surrounded me. I cried out in pain. It was a new found resolve that gave me a second wind, a glimmer of hope. I heard the sounds of battle. As I focused again, they were speaking of moving me.

They did, though I don’t know how. For some time it was merely the wizard and the two hellish looking sentinels. I am not even sure where we were, it was dark and silent as a tomb. A throne on the raised platform that we stood on, the wizard seated there in haughty arrogance. Anger fueled me then… Anger may be destructive, but these days I will admit that it does serve a purpose when properly focused.

The next thing I knew, I was unbound and amid a crowd of familiar faces… mostly familiar faces. The majority of the Bhaalists lay dead… I didn’t see the body of the high priest or the wizard… not that there was much time to look. I was being whisked away at a quick pace. I could barely focus. Couldn’t think. It took some time for me to register that they were speaking of a man’s sacrifice. A sacrifice that Ilmater had rewarded later, returning the man to the living. A sacrifice I was grateful for.

Seeing what the enemy was willing to do, seeing the horror they had planned, but kept hidden from most… Swayed many. Seeing my resolve convinced many that I was set in my path. It was a turning point of sorts, as it was after this that our allies began to increase. Not all were convinced, of course. I was still cursed by grieving mothers… Still spat upon by ones like Brother Rente… still distrusted by Sister Abby… but slowly things began to turn.

The evening was spent arguing with ones such as Brother Rente, still convinced I was a blasphemous girl who heard voices. By the time I was left alone, I was exhausted. Billy was safe though, and that was a great comfort to me. Emrys and Ian had acted in my stead, kept Billy safe, and spoke on my behalf. It was these two who rallied my rescue, and these two who had stood by me longer than any other. I counted my blessings that though I may have weaknesses, there were allies willing to strengthen those. Allies willing to keep me standing when I could not keep myself upright.

That night, as I recovered… I would be visited by another servant of Ilmater. An angel. The first angel I would behold, but not the last. His presence was soothing, as Ilmater’s but to a lesser extent. He was a beautiful creature. His voice was kind and comforting.

"Hello dear Sister Merielle. It has been a long day for you."

"A survivable one."

My words were hesitant… I am certain it didn’t sound very convincing. I had survived only because Ilmater had held me up.

"Fear not, child for His Mercy will not see you Death’s martyr. The child will never feel the pain you have endured. His soul -will- be free of all evil if you can stay the course."

"I will not waver."

For Billy’s sake, if nothing else. If my resolve could spare him suffering… I would stand and face the Hells and more. For the sake of the friends who held me dear, the allies who stood at my side… for the grieving mothers, for those who cursed me… Bhaal would not have Billy. My oath would stand. My faith would endure. Another promise made to Ilmater, though only an unspoken extension of the oath that had come before. I could not let all that those have done for me be for naught.

"As is why you were -Chosen-."

"A title I hope yet to earn."

I feel undeserved of it, even now. Still, I was not looked to as a simple healer anymore. I was called to serve. Willing Servant, I would do as faith and heart bid, though it meant bearing such undeserved reverence. I prayed then as I have every day since that they do not see me, but the faith I represent. I pray they understand… that they remember those who kept me standing, and what we stood for…

"Your Faith is your Strength, and Mercy ever your guide. Do not be tempted by the wills of men. Ilmater sends me with his Blessings. You have shown yourself deserving of being Favored. While others doubt you must be strong."

"I will not let doubt sway me. Though I fear doubt will poison and destroy those who give it sway. I do not wish to stand opposite my fellows in any fashion further…"

He gave me a reassuring smile. In his eyes he simply stated that I would not stand opposite them for long. I took great comfort in that. He spoke once more before he departed, his words lending me strength, and granting me some renewal of spirit, which in turn renewed the body and mind. I felt whole.

"Mercy be yours Sister…"

Mercy. Mercy finds all in the end. In the -end- there is -only- Mercy. It would touch hearts across the Coast in ways that I could never imagine. From a single ember of hope… A fire would burn… Righteous Fury… and it would leave naught but ash of those who would cause harm and suffering.

Mercy would indeed be mine, but in all things… we do not walk difficult roads unchanged. We do not walk through troubles unscathed. I bore a new scar… a constant and painful reminder of the price paid. A permanent reminder of the price yet to be paid.
~~

[LeslieMS]

Gathering Together

[An Excerpt from the one hundred and twenty sixth entry]
Finally I sit here, quill in hand. So many words. So much said, more left unsaid. Exchanges of words that make or break alliances. More often than not I find myself sifting through the words of others, seeking some hidden meaning. Some clue missed in simple conversation? A threat? A promise? A warning? Who can say. Who can say by the end of the conversation that all need hearing is heard, all needs saying is said? Sometimes it is madness to try to keep up with it all.

So many speakers, so few listeners… well I can’t say that. Everywhere they listen from the shadows. I almost laugh when someone asks to speak in private. If ever I had a truly quiet moment… A moment I was truly safe… I wouldn’t know what to do with it. All the better for it I suppose. If I ever had a moment where I were truly safe, and it were truly quiet… I would likely be standing on Mount Martyrdom with no other than the hosts of the House of the Triad to keep me company. For now I shall have to content in that duty will come to close completed, oaths fulfilled, Mercy at the end of all things… I will know peace.
~~

I had resigned myself to endless fighting… and feared it would be alone. I was surprised when Sister Abby came to visit Candlekeep… and called me Sister. We talked a great long while, she and I… Her prayers having been answered and her doubts now set aside, we had begun to mend the rift that was between us. The rift that had separated me from the temple, my fellows, and the city I so dearly loved… began to mend. It was the first of many boons at that time.

Sister Abby was able to aid in mending the rift between the rigid and spirited Brother Rente too. Odd to think now, that in time… He would become one of the loudest voices to speak of my virtues and. Odd only in that, at the time… our every exchange had been tense, bitter, unrelenting and we had stood on opposite sides with little more than devout faith and anger between us. Indeed, once Sister Abby spoke to him, I found I had a great deal more allies than I had ever thought. It was a start, and I was glad for it.

Perhaps the most important of new alliances would be with one Tormite… Now Sir Jonas Rokranon. It would not come about so easily. Aside from the words of Sister Abby and others on the outset, he was gripped by a terrible madness… The result of aiding one against Shar… It had left him wounded, cursed and tormented… it would not be until Auriel, a priestess of Sehanine Moonbow, and now one of my dearest friends, myself and several others fought the darkness in the devout paladin… That his eyes would see me as anything more than a fanatic. From these few new allies, many more would begin to follow… a trickle at first, like cool water on a parched throat…

[An Excerpt from the one hundred and twenty ninth entry]
The days have been silent. The nights have been silent. Sleep comes less easy in this calm before the storm, than when tempests rage. Conversations have become more or less an idle distraction to my thoughts. I see it in their faces. They wait. We watch warily, the looming shadows on the horizon. Even the shadows are silent… for now. I keep busy in the idle hours when the silence is thick, and I listen. I listen to my heart… I listen to my faith. I have reflected, traced, pondered and puzzled every step, every single one to this place. To this path.

Even before my heart was Mercy’s, before my soul was Ilmater’s… Even when another thought to call my steps at their bidding… Blind arrogant fools. Every Master, every Mistress, every one of them blind to the truth. Ever have I walked Mercy’s path, perhaps even before I could remember it. Time and toil has worked diligently to teach me strength. I have learned well the lessons of the dark past. One does not appreciate the light without the darkness. In understanding our path, our place, our tribulations… We learn to step wisely, to accept duty with grateful hearts… We learn to endure… to become as we must.

For Billy, for Dianne, for every mother who has lost a child to Bhaalist hand, for every soul claimed by the Lord of Murder, for every dear friend be they here or lost to time and distance, even death, for all deserving of Mercy… We stand. My duty to protect the child at all cost, is as much my promise to see the dark shadows dispersed for the sake of each of these.

Let none be lost to Mercy, let all who seek it… find it. Let all who oppose it… Let them know they face the Triad, let them know they face all that is light, truth, all that is good, hope and we will not abide the cruel shadows further. The time has come to set final plans, to gather allies. We stand, we watch, we wait and we pray, we -prepare-… in the end, we will endure the battle, Mercy will Prevail. I see no end but this. In the end, there can only be Mercy, for Mercy is in all things, to all things, in some measure or another.
~~

My faith had always been my greatest boon, and it was that faith which others looked to in the days before the siege. Preparations began to take place. People were looking to me for direction. I found myself relying on prayers and the wisdoms of those seasoned in battles and tactics. The call went out to all those in the service of good and light. Maximus Angrius made his way as far north as Neverwinter for allies. Jonas spoke with the Dukes of Baldur’s Gate, garnering their aid as well. Finally, the requests for aid that I had sent out so long ago began to be answered. We were not the only ones to send forth calls to aid… For rumor was that angels were appearing in Triadic sanctums all across Faerun.

Subject: Rumours of Baldur's Gate

*Over the course of the last few days strange reports come in of "beams of light" coming from the heavens and bathing churches of Ilmater in a warm glow, for but a brief moment.

Whispers find their way into the cities across Toril that angelic messengers visited these holy sites, said a few words and left as quickly as they came. "Prepare children. Follow the one who protects you all from the Foul One's will. The boy's soul must be saved."

Those in the far reaches of the map mumble at the cryptic message. Those closer to the coast have heard a tale or two that "nods" to the true meaning of the message.

Reports filter through of Paladin's from the far reaches of Faerun making pilgrimages to the coast to pledge their swords to the "Beacon of Mercy". *

Indeed they gathered… willing to pledge life and sword to me… which I found astonishing, impossible… and myself undeserving. I thanked them for their willingness to stand against the darkness. Explained to them that one simple healer was hardly worth such an oath… I asked them instead to promise to fight against Bhaal, to protect Billy… He was what was truly important.

These who came together though… Stood before me, pledging to fight my battle. Fight for my cause… And in truth… it was not mine… but ours. To all of the Coast, to all of Faerun, and possibly all of Toril. We knew one thing was certain… Regardless of what I thought, they were here, to fight at my side as Ilmater’s divine servants had bid. We would not be the only to gather though, for as we prepared for war, so too did the enemy.

Subject: Rumours of Baldur's Gate

*Far away from the eyes of man... Across the planes to Khalas, the first layer of Gehenna, the minions of The Lord of Murder gather for the upcoming thrust upon the soil of Toril. Twisted souls of malevolent evil stand before the Throne of Bhaal and pledge themselves to the cause.

A voice booms across the plane, "Come my minions! Together we shall crush the weak and pitiful, and spread my seed across Toril!"

As the voice carries itself across the plane, those that hear it, fall to their knees. Some by choice...others in fear of what will happen if they do not.*

We began to make ready, gathering supplies by the wagon full. Bandages, medicines and the like. The Nashkell Trade Emporium pledged whatever weapons and armor it could muster. The Dukes granted Jonas a contingent of Fist Mercenaries. The Dukes also had a siege camp set up near the temple. My time would be divided between this new encampment and Candlekeep. Exhausting days, and despite my loathing for horseback riding… I would grow quite used to it in those days.

Sister Abby and Brother Rente would ready a field hospital. Mercenaries too, came to the promise of fame and fortune, glory and gold… It seemed a bit much to take down one temple… But this temple was a fortress, and our enemies numbers were great. There would be many battles even before the start of the siege to tear down that foul place… Many would die in those early days… Willing sacrifices, though we saved who we could… This was only a foreshadowing of things to come.

Subject: Rumours of Baldur's Gate

[An Excerpt from the one hundred ant thirty first entry]
I tried to rest, but sleep found no purchase. I grew weary of pacing, so I returned to Candlekeep. Billy seems older now, and not in the way of burdens aging one… physically aged, by several years. Where once stood a boy looking eight perhaps, now stands a boy nearing his fourteenth or fifteenth season. I will be glad to see the taint removed from him.

I spoke with him of what is to come, how important it was that he stay safe, that they not be allowed to trick him. This dear child, aged beyond his years in spirit, mind and body, still holds a dear place for me in his heart. He understands things as they are, and his hug as he turned from the day of lessons and conversation to seek sleep, I smiled.

Soon. So very soon, this trouble would be passed us, he would be free to live as he sees fit. To step without fear, his soul cleansed of that which the darkness has forced on him… soon. I will not fail him. -We- will not fail him. Mercy will prevail.
~~

At least, this was my hope and prayer. This was my promise. He would be free of Bhaal. Even if I had to tear the temple down brick by brick with my own two hands.
~~

[LeslieMS]

The Siege: Oath-sworn

[An Excerpt from the one hundred and thirty second entry]
The days seem to grow in length… almost tauntingly. At least it is granting us the time needed to complete our tasks. People continue to trickle in. Jonas has put the bounty from the Banite’s head to good use as I suggested. The coin from it now hires the sell-swords who have come to us. In the next few days, what is not used for that, I will take to get our last supply of bandages. I find it ironic that Bhaal’s ally is funding his enemy.

Maximus has still not returned, and I grow worried over him. I pray the delay is caused by weather or some simple thing. In the mean time I do what I can to keep spirits up. A kind word and a gentle smile does much. I have also figured out how to make Honey Cakes from a campfire and a cast iron pan. They come out a bit heavy but serve morale all the same. It is grand to see people smile, even in times like these, and such things lift my heart. The missing Catapult was found, as was a fair bit of reinforcements. Things go well, but people are restless. One could be blind and still see it.
~~

Perhaps the bloodiest, though not quite the darkest chapter of this tale. We prepared for war. The people had gathered behind us… according to Jonas… Behind me. Jonas… the man who was nearly my enemy, though not to the degree of Bhaal’s faithful. Now, there is none more loyal that stands by my side, save for my husband, and first above all… my god.

Regardless on my thoughts, there were many who were seeking me out. Very many. From all across Faerûn, from many walks of life, and paths too twisted to fathom. The common thread was that they wished to see the Bhaalists stop drawing forth rivers of blood on the Coast. As they say, things get worse before they get better. Before the rivers would halt, there would be a flood… a tide of blood that would threaten to wash the Coast away.

In my meager years, I had never been a part of something such as this. The field hospital, the catapults, war horses and weapons… badges of war and blood. Preparations well underway. Before we could halt the Bhaalists, we would have to break through the stone fortress that hid them away. It was a daunting task. A healer standing before the massive stone structure… It would be a lie to say I thought I could manage it. A lie to say I wasn’t completely terrified of what lay ahead… And a lie to say I ever considered walking away from it. Wavering in the face of such a task.

It was an even greater shock when Duke Eltan visited the siege camp as things were nearly ready. It left me speechless when he said I was to lead along side Jonas and Maximus. Were it not for Jonas’ guidance and reassurances in those early days… I may well have gone mad. As it were, we sustained each other. Those early days, taking shifts overseeing preparation, fighting back the initial incursions as our foes tried to halt our progress, side by side, with naught but faith, blood and a common goal to hold us together. There was something else to unite Jonas and I… we both began to loathe adventurers. Those who seek fame and glory to the exclusion of the goal and safety…

[Notes from the Journal of Sister Merielle Williams… Later Sister Merielle Silene, Living Saint of Ilmater]

…How many days now? At least three… Closer to five?

… Supplies were low… Jonas was away, sent Rente and Tamara… may they hurry. Jonas said he will take care of it later…

…they are broken. Master Foggy is sure they can be fixed… but he needs help… Where is everyone? …

…The Fools! Why do they not listen?! How many must die before they understand why we have ordered them to stay away… At this rate we will be down by half our supplies before we breach the walls… Mercy of Ilmater…

… they keep fighting among themselves… too much drinking… hid some… angry but sober and ready for battle now…

…I am even more certain now that the Bhaalist wizard is indeed Thayan… Billy is Safe… the City… As few as possible… Going near the temple -hurt- him! Mercy of Ilmater, give him the strength to endure…

…Dreams of battles… of angels…

… Blasted rain! We are going to drown in the mud. One of the catapults got stuck and started to sink… thank goodness for golems I guess!…

…Impatient… but they must understand… We will not fail! We will not Falter. The worst is yet to come, but we can endure! Mercy will prevail I know this. I do not question what is fact. They will see in time… they will understand. Mercy is in the end of all things… even war…
~~

We had fought for nearly half a tenday by then. Jonas and I taking turns running for, sending for, organizing and allocating supplies. The rain was a hindrance, nearly more so than the enemy and the adventurers who were so eager and impatient. The days ran together almost blindly. Day or night ceased to punctuate things… instead it was merely the moments between small battles. Catapult fire and the din of soldiers becoming a backdrop noise to the sounds of injured and dying… It was numbing, disheartening. Of all the shadows I had walked through… this one was dark. The shadow of the temple reaching to us, clawing at our sanity. Clawing at our unity. Trying to tear us to shreds.

It was this, I think that prompted Jonas to offer an oath. A means to strengthen our unity, for if we were strong, those who fought with us and looked to us would be strong. Oath-sister. Sworn to guard me and protect me as best as he was able. More than just an oath between healer and guardian… He offered me a signet ring. House Rokranon. He offered me a family and a home. Even if I had nowhere else to turn, I always had a place with him. With his family.

An oath of faith, forged in blood and hardship. An oath of friendship, tested and tried and found true. An oath of duty, to stand together is to never fall alone… An oath of a brother and sister, a love that was unshakable. A bond that would become unbreakable. There would be no counting the number of times the little sister would take shelter in big brother’s arms. There would be no counting the number of times we would keep each other standing… And our darkest days were yet to pass.
~~

[LeslieMS]

The Siege: Beacon of Mercy, Light of Hope

[An Excerpt from the one hundred and thirty third entry]
I have much to write on. I am sitting here in Jonas’ tent with quill in hand, it is dark, nightfall… and yet I need not light a candle to see the parchment I write upon. I am still in awe of the events, but I must commit them to parchment. I must not forget them, though likely I never will. Something of Ilmater has reached into my very core, and reverberated upon my soul. It is… a daunting feeling. Humbling. Who am I to deserve such a blessing? Who am I to be called Chosen of Ilmater? If I outlived the Elves I do not think that would be enough days for me to feel as though I have earned such.

I stood with Brother Rente and several others counting supplies after a few skirmishes and an exchange of catapult fire, ensuring we are prepared should things heat back up again, when there was a great flash within the encampment. Instinctively I looked to the sky, expecting to see storm clouds for there was also a great rumbling like thunder. As a being took form and the light faded, though still bright, was less sharp. There amid the lot of us stood an angel of immense size and grand beauty that could only be dreamed of.

I was hardly aware of any around me, the bandages in my hands fell and bounced off of my knees and to the ground. I turned to face the creature in awe, I thought surely my knees would give way. That they did not still surprises me. I bowed my head not daring to meet his eyes as he spoke.

‘Merielle… you are a beacon of light in these dark times.’

‘I do only as I am able.’

He smiled then, broadly. The movement of the others within the encampment became little more than peripheral. The exclamations were a dull distant echo on the edge of my senses. The sum of everything was this being before me, and as he spoke his voice resounded as though from a thousand places at once.

‘ -He- wishes to speak with you.’

I took a tentative step forward, my head bowed, for I knew who bid me answer his call, and answer I would.

‘I am ever the willing servant at His bidding.’

I stood and waited while he addressed the others. He seemed pleased that so many had gathered to aid, that so many would stand with us. He moved gracefully about the encampment and spoke:

‘You are all allies of the Triad?’

None spoke, save one, and I watched as Mercy’s infinite patience would come to light, for surely, were it any other but Mercy’s angel, he would have been struck down for his words:

‘Not all of us…’

‘You are not an ally of this group… this army against the darkness?’

‘I am indifferent in this matter.’

He bowed in respect to the angel, and the angel seemed to peer deep within him and frown. The angel turned from him, and looked to Jonas.

‘Jonas Rokranon… I have a task.’

‘I live to serve…’

Jonas looked up to the angel as smiled down to him briefly. The angel then spoke in the tongue of the celestials. A portal formed and Jonas answered the angel in his own language. Jonas was to guard the portal… The angel returned his gaze to me and spoke yet again, gesturing me forward.

‘ -He- awaits Merielle.’

I nodded to him moving forward, my thoughts tumbled and spun as I approached the portal. My mind screamed this was no dream, and my heart and soul paid heed, though my body was slow to act. I took a steadying breath and stepped through without so much as a backward glance. When I emerged on the other side of the portal, the angel was close at hand. I had seen this place in my dreams… Here I now stood, as I had before, at the base of Mount Martyrdom. This time… this time was no dream. This time was bright daylight, and I was not sleeping. This was no dream, this was no vision… had the others been visions at all? Or had I been beckoned, drawn from my sleep to this place… to stand before Ilmater himself. Now… Here I stood again. I looked to the angel and waited.

‘This way Merielle.’

He walked me up the hillside a bit, and there in all his glory stood Ilmater… and Dianne. My heart soared to see her smiling face again. She grinned brightly and waved to me before slipping her hand into Ilmater’s. Ilmater smiled, that same comfort that found me in previous occasions was now a more than welcome balm to me. I bowed reverently as he spoke.

‘My Chosen, how have you been my child?’

‘I have been well as I can be.’

‘And William?’

‘He does very well given the circumstances. He wishes to join the fighting but understands he cannot be risked. His burdens weigh on him heavily, but he endures so well.’

He looked to me and nodded, a silent acknowledgement that I had done well, and then his smile faded, his face became most serious as he regarded me. I felt my breath catch as I waited for him to speak.

‘Do you remember the name? That foul name that is not to be uttered here?’

‘I do my lord. I have kept it within my mind all this time, as you bid.’

As he spoke his face was grave… sadness touched his features. I dreaded the words that would come, but listened quietly, nodding when needs must, but not daring to speak.

‘That name… Holds power… Power of release. During this ritual… the Vile One will look to consume the soul of the vessel. Should he get it…’

His voice trailed off, a tear slipped down his cheek. In that moment I think my heart broke. For what comfort could I offer to the one who comforts all? Every fiber in my being, to the depths of my core wished nothing more than to ease the pain he felt, and simultaneously I knew there was nothing I could do, save my duty… see my oaths fulfilled that would ease such.

‘…That name. It will release the vessel’s soul. Release it unto me. Do you understand Merielle?’

‘I… I do… my lord.’

‘It is the soul of the vessel that grants him his strength… Strength to take hold, strength to spread his foulness across Toril. Know, my child, I will not let any harm come to the soul of William should you need to use that… name.’

‘I shall do my best to see it is not needed.’

His smile returned at my resolute answer. I was glad to see it. I took strength in it, knowing I had the means to ensure all were kept safe from Bhaal… one way or the other, Mercy would prevail.

‘I am ever watching over you Merielle. I know your faith is true, and you do not waver. Call unto me in the days to come. I will send my angels to you should you need it.’

My eyes widened. Such boons were so rarely offered, and should be used wisely, for such things only happen once in many lifetimes. Truly our tasks were great for him to offer such. He spoke to Dianne, bidding her remain with the angel and gestured me back to the portal that Jonas guarded.

‘I thank you greatly for such, My Lord Ilmater.’

‘Come my Chosen. I must return you where you are needed.’

‘Of course.’

I nodded to him, giving the angel his due respect. I then turned and smiles at Dianne. She waved good-bye, and smiled back. In that smile was all the joy of the world… all the joy of every child at peace. I would leave this place again. I prayed silently as we walked to the portal, that I was as alive the next time I found my way here as now. For ahead of us loomed a great battle, many would fall, and I prayed Mercy to keep them… Mercy to us all. Was it this silent prayer that kept Ilmater at my side as we stepped through the portal? Who could say the will of the gods?

‘Through the portal now Merielle.’

And with no hesitation, I stepped. He could have asked me to walk all the Hells and the Infinite Abyss, and I would have gladly, but he bid me return whence I had come, and I did so gladly. When I found myself back in the camp, Ilmater stood at my side. He bid me one last command with a loud booming voice that shook all to the core, the whole of existence seemed to echo with is voice.

‘Now go my Chosen, and let Mercy guide your steps!’

What happened next is hard to explain. In one overwhelming moment I felt his hand on my shoulder. Not in the figurative way one views the support of their god… his Hand lay upon my shoulder. I was filled with such overwhelming calm and peace… so much at once. It felt as if all the realms… all the Multi-verse seemed to pause, and I thought surely my heart and soul would burst from the sheer volume of emotion… From the shuddering of my being I though surely I would be rend to pieces. The portal faded, and long after he had left my side, I felt his presence. I could not move… I could not speak… I dared not. At that moment if I moved or spoke, breathed, or even allowed my heart half a beat… that I would shatter. I slowly became aware of the world around me… the sounds and sights and smells … the very sensation of existence creeping back to me. I closed my eyes as the dizzying energy worked through me. Finally the voice of Jonas reached me and I opened them.

‘Sister Meri?’

His face was a mask of concern, and I smiled, if only to ease his mind. Thoughts came slowly, and my words seemed to echo through my own ears. I felt near tears… but not the tears of sadness, or pain… At last, I found the will to speak.

‘It is well. The Hand of Mercy is at our backs!’

I stood there, even after agreeing to need rest, to write. Jonas bid me go to his tent, to take my time, and still my feet were slow to obey. I heard whispers of halos… of angels and of Saints… prayers and hopes… the din of those preparing for the battle to come… so much. I thought surely it would be my undoing. I made my way musingly to the tent. I spent hours in prayer. Now finally I write, committing to memory this as I have every other moment of great note. This possibly the greatest of all.

Battle would come swiftly now. The time to prepare was drawing to a close. Mercy will prevail. We will not falter! There is much still to do. I shall see to my tasks. The encounter has left me greatly renewed. Greatly strengthened. There is much to do… and I should see to what I am able. The whole thing seems to have lifted the spirits of many. If that is the mercy I can now offer, then so be it.
~~

[LeslieMS]

The Siege: The Face of My Enemy

[From the One Hundred and Thirty-Fifth Entry]
By all that is Mercy it is over! I should sleep, gods know I need it… There are so many thoughts… so many. They jumble. So I set quill to parchment and pray that sense is made of the last few days. After walking this path for so long, it feels strange to finally stop… to take no step because none are required. I wonder what path next my feet shall take up? What path and task yet waits for me to attend? For now, there is time to rest. I can hardly believe it at a close. There were no doubts in my mind that we would reach the end. Though we did our best to see we came to the end with Billy mine to hold… it was… Bittersweet. Indeed, Billy is safe, for all the days between now and the end of eternity, Billy is safe. Mercy of Ilmater… I thank you infinitely for that mercy my lord. He is not mine to hold, and perhaps never was. He is Mercy’s Child, as was all along. Still we were told to try. And try we did. There is no failing in it, even if it is not the ending we hoped for.

To further the dual nature of this victory… many have died, so very many. There will be many funeral services. I would like to attend them each. I feel it is the least that can be done for those who gave all they had for this cause. It will take days for the mess of battle to be cleansed. The catapult fire back and forth has left the road a jagged mess of mud, blood, stone and cindered boards. The camp will be dismantled, that which can be reused and re-purposed will be. I sprinkled daisy and poppy seeds about, some lavender and chamomile, I know not all of them will take root and sprout, but even a bit here and there, in this symbolic gesture, would balm my own heart. A showing that time and patience, mercy, mends all things.

My heart cannot help but grieve Billy in a sorts. I know they both rest with Ilmater, but the selfish corner of my heart wishes them here. To see Dianne choose her path as a healer, to see Billy a knight valiant in Ilmater’s service. I have her doll, and now his knight. Treasures that I will ever hold dear to me. The Crying Lord whispers comforts to me. That he will ever keep them, that they are forever beyond pain and suffering, for all of the eternities, they will be of truest Mercy there on Mount Martyrdom. Some day, I will see them again, and my heart is content in that. Perhaps… all this time, the meadow I saw them play in, amid hills and flowing sunlight, were not here at all… perhaps it is the slopes of Martyrdom that they dwell upon. The smiling and laughing faces of brother and sister, playing… as children should, without worry or care… taint or pain.

I will start a wreath for Billy, as I did Dianne… and weave one for the Fallen who stood with us in that battle. The battle will haunt my dreams for a long time to come. I still remember the fear and anguish that gripped me when the messenger came to tell me that Billy had been snatched away. I could have swore the Multi-verse stopped, I know my heart did. In that moment I think my very soul broke in half. I knew in my heart so long as he could be kept safe, we could keep him… and I knew in that moment, that it was not meant to be. Blame could be passed about, anger could be thrown carelessly, but it would serve nothing. No… I hold none at fault for the end we found. It is as it is, and no amount of negative emotion can change it.

We battled for days, our catapults exchanged fire, and skirmishes were many. We watched as the foolish, and the overly confident, and the brave tried to storm the temple gates only to be cruelly cut down. Then we watched and we prayed as they were recovered. I am not a priestess, or a battle cleric. Not really much of a fighter. The use of divine energy that flows through me is tiring after so long. I do not work with prepared prayers, but by force of my own will and soul, and the days at the encampment were beyond draining. Yet each stolen moment of rest was just enough to keep me standing. I did not realize how straining the battles had been until I at last sat still. Near the end, it took all my will to find the strength to continue. By the Mercy of He Who Endures, we did all of us, find the strength and the will to endure.

What we had endured thus far was nothing compared to what we had yet to face. As the call to arms went out, I prayed more feverishly than ever before. I could sense at the core of my soul that time was against us. They had Billy, and were moving their forces to see to it that we did not reclaim him. The time for sword and spell song was indeed at hand. Passed was the time to wait, to prepare and endure… now was the time to stand and to fight. A great sound resounded as Jonas blew the war horn and we pressed our attack. The battle was intense as we inched our way through blood and mud, the rain had at least stopped, and for now the catapult fire seemed over. There were screams. Threats and cries of pain, battle calls… mixed with the sound of arcanists calling down fierce magics, and diviners calling on their gods and their prayers to aid the battle as we inched painful inch by painful inch through the temple courtyard.

‘Jonas! We need to get inside! Now… please. They have Billy!’

I wonder if he heard the desperation and the fear in my voice as I struggled to mend his wounds. Blood was everywhere. My own as well as the blood of those I mended in battle, blood of the enemy. I was helpless to save all who were falling. Desperate prayers left my lips as we all did the best we could. There were so many of them, dearest mercies… War is a horrid thing! Mercy of Ilmater forgive me all that happened… were it not for me standing against the Bhaalists all those months ago… none of it would happen…

Then again, Bhaal would now walk the realms, and that would be a fate far worse than this. We reached the temple door and found more fighting within. We fought and fought. Every time I thought we would fall, or collapse from wounds or exhaustion, my prayers were answered and we found the strength to continue. A creature stood before us and bid that only ten could continue forward. It was with a heavy heart that we left the battle behind us to face the task ahead. Jonas and I chose quickly and our meager group moved forward. We fought our way through to the depths of the temple… to the inner sanctum and what I saw there chilled my heart and soul. A woman stood over Billy… draining his blood and life from him. The depth and strength of the emotions that worked through me then threatened to undo me as the woman spoke and we countered with our own defiance.

A shadow and darkness overtook the alter where Billy lay. Mercy of Mercies I -felt- his life leaving him as surely as it were I who lay on that alter. The priestess over Billy laughed cruelly as the form took on the essence of the Lord of Murder. I stepped forward. I knew now that Billy and I would not have that hillside house… that I would not watch him grow to a fine young man… but I also knew what had to be done. It sickened me… to see them there with him. This child, who calls to me as his mother… The thing spoke and his words were enough to summon a cry from my own spent form. My mouth was dry and I felt as though I had died a hundred times and were still standing, and prayers… so many prayers tumbled through my mind… Every word ever spoken to me by my lord… Protect his soul at all costs… do not let Bhaal have him… I focused on the thing as it spoke:

‘Now that I am here…Destroy these mortals while I consume the soul of the child.’

The others readied for battle as the minions of Bhaal moved to carry out the wish of their god. I felt their blades, felt the wounds I was taking, but cared not… I stayed focused on the creature before me. Bhaal. The Lord of Murder… and -my- son… Mercy’s Child. I answered. I spoke above the din of the fighting and in a voice clear and true, with a strength I knew not that I possessed.

‘DAMERION BHAALZATEN! YOU WILL NOT HAVE MERCY’S CHILD!’

As the creatures grasp on Billy was released… I felt the taint lifted from the boy even as I felt the last of his life slip away. The name could do as promised, force Bhaal to let go of, rather than consume Billy's soul. Effectively stopping the ritual. The last chance, desperate course taken. I invoked the name, knowing it meant that I would never keep this child as my own. Suddenly the fact that I was beset by foes became painfully clear, and one last painful plea left my lips as I felt myself falling into the darkness… into death.

‘Ilmater! Let me not fail you!’

I knew in that last breath before I fell, that Billy was safe. I knew also that I was to fall here, and it did not matter, so long as Billy was safe. I summoned my energies and let it burst from me, hoping to damage the enemy badly enough to give the others a chance to win the battle. At all costs… and it was done… My oath fulfilled. Death would not hold me this day however. I felt a sensation tugging at me. A small hand in my own, and a familiar presence bidding me return to life. I blinked and drew a great breath as I stood up in the Bhaalist sanctum and there stood Billy’s spirit.

‘I am free now Merielle… Free. I’m … Sorry.’

Tears ran down his face as he spoke. I moved to wipe the ethereal tears from his ghostly face.

‘Oh dearest… You have nothing to be sorry for love. -I- am the one who is sorry love. There is one promise I failed to keep. I promised you could be a knight love. Can you forgive me? I love you dearest…’

‘Ilmater calls to me, and I am not afraid any more.’

I nodded to him and smiled even as my heart broke slowly in a way I could not explain.

‘When you see Dianne love, give her a hug for me?’

‘I will. We will be waiting for you. This was written before time began… I am sorry…’

‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’

With that his spirit faded. Whispered comforts from Ilmater sought me out. Slowly I turned to the others. The others were dismayed he was not still living, and I explained to them that we had not failed. He was safe… His soul was safe… no matter the cost. Even if it cost his own life… his soul was safe. That was all that mattered. There was not however time to dwell on it. The temple began to crumble around us and we made a hurried flight to the exit. I was led along mutedly, numb… the numbness was shattered quickly by the sight before me… the remnants of the battle, the fallen and the wounded… the bodies of enemy and ally alike… The Bhaalists were fleeing, quickly. Jonas sounded the horn for our victory… Mercy … Had prevailed.

I spoke a few words to all that had stood before going back to the camp to rest. The rest of the day was a blur. Many spoke of the honor it was to serve in this cause, to fight at my side. Many spoke praise to me that I felt undeserved, unearned. Jonas was knighted and granted status, the mercenaries collected their pay and went on to the next adventure. Healers tended wounded, priests recalled the dead, cleanup began. Bentley Mirrorshade spoke of his inn that he would build. They asked about Billy, spoke of the battle, all who could sought rest and peace. I did not realize until it all had passed and was quiet, just how loud thing had been for the last several days. It was in that quiet that a whispered prayer left my lips.

‘My oath fulfilled my lord. Please forgive me if my heart grieves as a mother grieves a lost child…’

In the silence I hear Billy and Dianne laugh, and I closed my eyes holding onto that moment tightly as a shudder worked through me and a sob threatened to escape me. It was then that I felt the gentle comfort that is Ilmater wash over me, and a whisper, gentle, in reply came to me then. A balm to my heart and soul, and I took comfort in it.

‘They are ever safe now my Chosen…Let your heart rest easy…’

There would be many more prayers, many more conversations, some good, some bad… but there would be peace. Bhaal’s faithful no longer held sway over the lands. Mercy had prevailed. Time and patience, a gentle hand, would mend the wounds, both figurative and literal. The land too would heal with time and care. I will rest at Candlekeep a day or two before making my way back to the temple. This task had come to a close, but there would yet be much work to do. I will rest, that I may face the tasks ahead. I am and will ever be, the Willing Servant of Ilmater. Though he call me Chosen, and others call me the Beacon of Mercy… I am little more than a humble healer with a will to do as needs must. For now I will try to seek rest… Mercy that my dreams will be more gentle than they have been in the past.
~~

[The closing speech at the end of the battle]
// For those of you who did not hear the closing speach, and would like to know, here it is. Thanks again to all involved in the event from the start nearly six months ago until the end Sunday night!//

[They staggered from the crumbling temple exhausted. Shouts were heard to move away from the collapsing structure. The fallen were collected, the wounded hobbled away. Once all were tended, Meri stood before them, well stood was a generous word… But by will alone, she remained upright. She was pale, exhausted, as they all were… Her emotions were barely contained. Unspent tears of joy, and of sadness in this bittersweet victory lingered in her eyes. There were many with questions, and so she spoke, her voice betraying the myriad of emotions that lurked just beneath the surface. She was soft spoken, but her words from her heart, as she looked at the battered, bruised and broken. Her smiles were heartfelt and short lived. Still, these, who had fought, friend or ally, were dear to her now, for they had stood, and together, they had prevailed.]

Peace all of you please!
If I may speak friends, I have something I wish to say to all of you.

[She waits patiently for the others to quiet, they will listen if they choose to, she reasons to herself. Jonas called them to attention and nodded to her, slowly she began to speak.]

I cannot thank you all enough. I know you all helped, for your own reasons, I need not know what those are. But my oath to protect…

[her voice cracks and she takes a steadying breath]

To protect Billy's Soul, and stop what would have happened, would have gone unfulfilled without each who has stood in these long days, months... If not for each of you, and each who fell... may they Rest in Mercy's arms… much would have been lost. May Mercy yet heal the wounds Bhaal and his faithful have left to weep. May Mercy mend what murder has rend apart. There is strength in Faith friends, of an idea, or a god, or a cause... I pray that lesson is not lost on all of you. In the End there is Only Mercy! I am grateful to you each. More so than any words could convey. Know this as your paths again carry you to new destinations, on other journeys, and know I hold you each dear for the moments when you carried me on my own path. May your journeys be kind to you, may our paths cross again in lighter days. Know if ever you have the need, seek me out, for I would gladly aid where I am able, as you have aided me.
Rest well friends you have earned it!

[With that, she nods and smiles to each. Her strength spent, she lets herself fall to the bloodied ground as the crowd disperses to have wounds tended. After recovering a bit, she returns, with aid of Jonas, to rest at the camp before finally making her way to rest. It would take time for the wounds to mend, and there would be scars, figuratively and literally, but in the end, what needed to be was done, what should be, was, and in that she could be content.]
~~

[An excerpt from the one hundred and thirty sixth entry]
I scattered more seeds about the battle grounds… The road is still little more than a stone littered trench now between the encampment and the ruined temple. I then spent a good deal of the day weaving the wreath of flowers for Billy, as I had done for his sister, as I had done for so many others. A remembrance, a reminder that all things come full circle, that which is lost to us, that which is dear will find a way back to us. I wove two flowers for every joyous memory I held and at last tied it up with a white bow. I then took a break from conversation and musings. Readied the wreath to let go when the tides come in, that it may drift well away when the tides go back out.
~~

The sun began to settle as we neared the keep, and there was but one more thing to do before I sought sleep. I turned from the road, to the cliff side. So much like a shrine to Ilmater the small place had come. The peace I found in the hours I would spend there. To let my tears disappear to the sea, let my anger and frustrations be carried from me by the winds, to sit in the quiet of it, see the patience of the water, the endurance of the stone, to know all things circle round, until at last there is only the peace of Mercy, and I can hear the whisperings of my heart, and the answers of my faith. Yes… this my shrine, my solace in the darkest of days past.

I secured the pillow to the center of the wreath. Quietly, with whispered prayers, I let it loose. I watched as it come to rest in the water below without disturbing a single flower petal. As Dianne’s, it blessedly missed the rocks. Jonas saluted, and the others were thoughtfully quiet. Jonas then spoke something in celestial. All was quiet for a time, even my thoughts had stilled. I finally turned from the water. A wave of sadness threatened to over come me and I spoke more to remind myself than anything…

‘As with all things that the sea carries away, eventually, somehow they return… I will see them again.’

It was then I heard the laughter of the children, and felt a gentle tugging of my robes. I looked down, half expecting to see them there, and perhaps they were, for I heard them speak as surely as I saw the moon in the night sky above me.

‘We love you Merielle’

‘I love you too darlings…’

With that… so closed one chapter, and my heart found peace. Not all endings are the endings we wish for, but they are the endings we need. I promised a place for the children. I have work to do. I have many dear friends, dare I say that some are as dear as any family. I will seek my next path, my next task, or rather, allow it to find me as I always have. Tomorrow I will return to the temple. Tomorrow things begin anew. I go forward with a hopeful heart. In all things I am content, and tonight I seek rest. There is much still to do.
~~

[LeslieMS]

The Making of a Saint

[An Excerpt from the One Hundred and Thirty-Seventh Entry]
Return to the temple indeed! Dearest Mercy! As in all my days I remember… I do not seek the path, but the path seeks me. This day was no exception. I woke from a restless night’s sleep, my exhaustion no longer enough to keep the nightmares of the past at bay… and of late there are new horrors to fill the night hours. Each face… and I cannot help but wonder if they regret dying for this cause. Many times, since the end of the battle, I have heard the question:

‘Why didn’t you just kill him and deliver him to Ilmater?’

Because it was not my place. Because I was not bid to do so… I did as I should, and can not question the rightness of obedience now. Some call it selfishness… Some hate me for it… though most understand, and there are those willing to forgive. Some see it as surely as it were my hand that slain children in their beds, some lay the blame solely on Bhaal. Some were glad for the battle, some were not. Always it will be thus. Always there will be some on one side or the other, and I can only act in my faith. As my heart and my god bid, so I shall do. I am saddened that it cost so much… I wonder did they regret it once death had passed on to them? Were it in my power to recall all from death, that they may live and enjoy this peace I yet would. For now… all we can do is pick up the pieces and pray Mercy that time will mend that which is broken.

It was these sullen thoughts that were shattered when a messenger came to me over breakfast. He bid me return to the temple with haste. My presence was urgently requested. I immediately expected trouble, but the boy merely grinned and said I should hurry. So I did. I finished my toast and drank my tea before the boy had left the inn. A short time later I was packed and out the gates. My mind wondered at the summons… What new trouble lay in wait?

My worry grew by measure when I ran into Brother Rente on the Tradeway headed North. His anxious expression did not serve to ease my mind. Though his words eased what his face did not.

‘Brother Rente. Pray all is well?’

‘It is Sister. It is indeed.’

Though my relief was short lived as the conversation continued.

‘There is a great man of the Church who has come to the temple. He sent me to get you and bring you to the Shrine. Father Melder Rythtin of the Healing Hand….. do you know him?’

Dearest Mercies… The High Priest of the largest Ilmatari temple in all of Faerûn? What in all the mercies, great or small could have him seeking me… As I have done much in recent events I half expected the worst. Though worry was replaced by rapt curiosity as my exclamations drew a faint smile from Rente. The rest of the journey to the temple was filled with he trying to not give away his big secret. I knew well he was hiding something, but it was not my place to pry. No doubt I would find out soon enough. It was nearly amusing to see one as inept with mistruth as myself, still make a valiant attempt. Indeed I had long learned the difference between truth and lie were mere words. Though sometimes a well placed truth garners less curiosity than a badly placed lie.

At last we arrived at the temple. I was greeted by the giddy smiles of the Sisters, Brother Rente was practically beside himself with barely contained cheer. When I thought surely my curiosity would end me, there we were in the sanctum of the temple, amid a rather large and prestigious gathering. It was Father Melder who spoke first as I looked on uneasily.

‘Brother Rente…you've returned. And you've brought Her… with you…’

The assembly bowed their heads as I entered, which served to puzzle me greatly. I looked to Brother Marcus for some sort of guidance, but his eyes did not meet my own. Father Melder sounded nearly as nervous as I felt. My posture respectful, and my own head bowed I spoke uncertainly:

‘I was told my presence was requested sir?’

‘Yes… Please S… sister Merielle… come forward. I am Father Melder of the Healing Hand… High Priest of the Church of the Broken God… It is an honor to meet you in the flesh… I am humbled in your presence…’

Honored? Humbled by me? The most noted figure of the Ilmatari, and he speaks of being humbled by I? A lowly healer… and not even the greatest of these. No valiant knight or skilled monk, no battle priestess… and he is humbled an honored by my presence?

‘It is you who greatly honor me sir.’

‘Sister, you have spoken with -Him- ?’

At the moment he asked the question, I looked uneasily at the others in the room. I thought surely this would be a battling of words as I sought to justify my position as I had to Brother Rente and Sister Abby. I missed the forest for the trees so to speak. None the less I prepared my defenses and readied to answer more questions.

‘I have sir, yes.’

Even with his head bowed, I could see Brother Marcus’ smile. I imagine if I had looked behind me I would have seen Rente grinning ear to ear as Father Melder spoke.

‘We received word from Brother Rente of your accomplishments. You are a blessing to the church… Brother James noted your doings against the Vile One… you truly are a beacon of light…’

I blinked. I had not expected this. I spoke quietly, had there been any sound at all my words would have been lost to it.

‘I did only as needs must to fulfill the wish of Ilmater sir.’

Nothing I could have done would have aptly prepared me for what he said next. How I remained standing was an act of the Hand of Mercy itself.

‘Those of the Church have chose to grant you the title of Saint… You are the first living of your kind Saint Merielle. You are the beacon this Church needs through times of Darkness… You are Merielle Williams the Living Saint. It will be written in history of your deeds during the Siege against Murder… You will be remembered for all time.’

I stood shocked by what I had heard. Humbled… Floored. He smiled over me, the others were looking on joyfully, and as they all began to bow… To me? To me? Why? I floundered. My composure lost to me as I struggled to form words.

‘I don't… I do not know how to answer to that sir. Sir my tasks and doings were no greater than those who fought at my side… my sacrifice no greater than those who gave their lives for this… You honor me far greater than I yet deserve.’

Perhaps greater than I could ever deserve in any lifetime… many lifetimes… Dearest Mercy… I was dreaming or something. Surely nothing I had done was so great to deserve such a thing. Saint?! Truly? Innocents died because of my actions. Children. Husbands, wives, sons and daughters, sisters and brothers… had died because I stood in defiance… because I placed the life of one child and one soul over all others. I did only as commanded by Ilmater. I did the best I could, and it still was not good enough to protect all of them. Yet they still called me saint? His next words told me that no amount of arguing would dissuade them. Indeed it was set.

‘We ask for a relic. Something that embodies you. We will take this relic to the Church of the Broken God in Keltar. There it will be kept in reverence. Normally it would be taken from the fallen martyr. This… is different. Choose your relic Saint Merielle, and place it on the floor at your feet.’

A relic? My pack was still at my feet. A bit dumbfounded I looked to it. My journal, several cases full of drawings and paintings, a case full of notes, herbs, supplies for making of potions, tinctures, and the like. Many bandages, the tea set that I traveled with… and the holy symbol Jonas had given me. Likely the only thing I even had of real value. Finely crafted of Mithril, but it held more sentimental value than gold value. He had given it to me not long after I had restored his mind. The embodiment of the good I try to do. A symbol of a solid friendship, that had only been further forged by the battle. It would honor the friendship, as well as my faith, and serve well what Father Melder asked of me. I drew it carefully from my pack and set it down.

‘A gift from my guardian…’

He nodded and bid me bless it before he came and took it up. He smiled as he looked it over. This symbol of all that is Mercy. Of second chances, forgiveness, kindness, friendship, it shone with hope’s very light. Indeed this represented everything I had been taught… it represented so much… that precious gift.

‘This will be kept till the ends of time, safe within the hands of Ilmater.’

I nodded to him, and watched astonished as he bowed to me. I wanted to pull them each to their feet. Draw them up, that I may bow to him as is proper… to be placed to high, so undeserving of it… was nearly more than I could wrap my mind around.

‘Bless you Saint Merielle. May Mercy guide your steps.’

‘May Mercy keep you well sir.’

Rente asked to step forward. He addressed the Father and I. I waited for Father Melder to bid him forward… and instead he looked to me in question. I blinked.

‘Of course… he need not have my bidding to act as his heart bids.’

None needed such. Who was I to command any, to bid them come and go? I was nothing. Surely not one to ask such of another. Rente approached slowly and kneeled. No doubt I looked horrified… I was in a sense. What in all the Mercies was happening? And Why? This could not be right. There was a mistake. Mine was not such a place of high honor. Further still it was not my place to refuse… If the Highest of High priests had bid me stand on my head I would have… no questions asked. This task was perhaps more difficult but could be met with no less respect.

‘My Saint, I pledge my sword, my heart and my service to your will, forever forward to the end of time in your service, if you will have it.’

The weight of his words fell upon me and I realized that all in the room were looking to me to answer him. I spoke, choked, and through carefully chosen words.

‘Brother Rente… it would do me greater honor to see that pledge to one deserving of it, to see you serve He Who Endures… for I am, and ever will be the willing servant. What you offer is not mine to take, but nor will I dishonor your spirit by turning you away friend. Please… you needn’t bow…’
~~

The first of many humbling moments. Brother Rente would go from one who was so outspoken against me, to one of my more… stalwart supporters. In fact it would become almost unsettling, the ferocity with which he would defend me. This was only the tip of it. As the days would progress, members of various Ilmatari orders and temples would come, on pilgrimage to meet the Living Saint, or offer service.

It was a daunting thing… maybe more so than the events that came before. It would take months for me to learn to balance the woman I am, and the figurehead I had become. Even now, that balance is not perfect. A simple girl turned slave… a woman turned healer… a healer turned leader of a war… a leader chosen… Chosen to be a Beacon of Mercy… I may forever marvel at this path. Confusing as it is.

As much as I sought to argue against such things, it has been an opportunity to do great things and help the people. I know my tasks are not yet complete, and I know my path remains true, for Mercy is ever there with His hand at my back, guiding me, as duty and heart bid.
~~

[LeslieMS]

Murder Rended… Mercy Mended

I know Death usually holds memories. Keeps them from us. My blessing… or my bane… was to remember. A gift, fitting to one who holds memories so precious. We do not truly appreciate the light until we have been swallowed whole by the darkness. A darkness that would scar hearts, such as Emrys, Valqis, even Ian… Many others. Some wounds heal slowly, some hearts grow bitter. Even Mercy weeps… that day, and in the days to come… Mercy’s tears, and the tears of many… would wash clean the blood that stained the land.

Not all wounds could be healed, and by no means were all souls saved… But in sacrificing so much, to save Billy’s soul… So much was saved. Not all would agree it is worth the price. By no means has the end of the Bhaalist temple been the end of my troubles. There are still those who grieve bitter losses.

There are still enemies that wish my life, and the lives of those dear to me as payment for what they lost. Bhaal’s Chosen even still lurks, crawling his way from death, and promising vengeance when the time is right. Bhaal’s faithful were denied their Avatar of their lord… but this by no means has halted the threat that the Bhaalists or their allies pose.

I am haunted by the nightmare that those months became… comforted by my faith… Comforted by the knowledge and nightmares of what could have come to pass if we had failed. I remember those garish visions of the lands washed in blood. I remember the glaring truth of blood and battle that had so scarred the lands.

I still remember the first time I stood on the roof of Bentley’s inn… I even remember the first time I stepped foot on the land after the temple had fallen. Nearly a year later… The inn was open. A cheery, but imposing safe haven along the Tradeway. Nothing like the dark shadow it was. Standing on the roof, the faint scars are still there, evident. Druids and rangers sought to heal the land… the wildflowers I carefully planted have taken root. The lands are green and alive… it is beautiful, and bittersweet.

Sometimes, even now… I can stand there and look out over the lands, see the memorial to the Fallen… see the battle that once raged… I blink and the lands are stained with blood. The steady march of time, and Mercy’s gentle hand move to heal that which was sundered… Duty continues for some, and others rest peacefully in the arms of their gods. Some rest in the care of Mercy. Some wait… How I pray, when the world looks back on my own path, that they take a moment to remember the price some were willing to pay that the Lord of Murder would not walk Toril.

I pray they forget the woman… Forget the saint… Forget the titles and trappings of faith. That they instead remember what we stood for. Why we stood. I pray they remember the strength of faith, and the value of things beyond the physical world. I pray they remember those who have kept me standing, that I may complete my duty. For without these, my cause… Billy… and all hope might have been lost.

In two years, so very much has changed, and it is staggering… and yet, some things remain the same:

In the End, there is Only Mercy.

~~

[LeslieMS]

Epilogue

[The original, tear-stained copy of this book, now rests on sort of memorial in the Orphanage. It is there along with Dianne’s torn doll… and the newly made stuffed cat that was to be given to her before her death. Billy’s bloodstained wooden sword is also present, as well as a carved wooden figure of a knight once gifted to the boy.. Sir Jonas Rokranon knighted Billy… William, posthumously. Dianne is remembered as a Martyr. There, with a plaque showing the founding date for the orphanage, and Ilmater’s holy symbol… The Ilmatari’s duty to the children of the region continue. Five other copies of this book are kept with the following:

A copy was gifted to the Dukes of Baldur’s Gate.

An additional copy of this work was also gifted to Sir Jonas Rokranon, knighted and named a noble for his service during the siege.

Another copy was sent to the Library fortress of Candlekeep.

One of two copies kept with the Ilmatari is kept at the Shrine of Ilmater in Baldur’s Gate.

The final copy of this work now rests with the holy symbol that was taken to the Church of the Broken God in Keltar at the time when Merielle was named Living Saint.]

//
More OOC info can be found here, as well as contributions from other players.
Subject: A Request

I know the ending of this project was a long time in the making. I wan to thank each and every person involved from my very first days on this server nearly two years ago, until now. To any who have interacted with Meri, or will interact with her in the future, you have my sincerest thanks.

Thank you to everyone involved in the six month long Bhaalist Event. Especially Broham1, the evil mastermind behind the plot… And all the DM staff, Builders and scripters that had a part in making the finale worth while. A big hand of thanks to HaberdasherofDoom for his work on the Friendly Arm Inn… and to any who have had a hand in bringing this, the orphanage and the temple to life.

Thank you to those who have interacted with the Ilmatari, be it in a small or not so small way, good or bad. The last two years on this server with Meri have been some of the richest RP moments of my DnD related career, on a character that has been a part of that career for the last thirteen years. Be you the good, the evil or the neutral, without your contributions, I would not have the spectacular experiences to write about.

This was a spectacular event spanning months, even years… touching dozens of players and staff. I sincerely hope that it was a enriching and fulfilling for you, as it was for me. Thank you for showing me the depths of my own character’s soul… For showing me that she was capable of more than I thought possible… And for continuing to show me that there is still much she can do.

This Book will be made public, not just to those listed as having copies, but may be read from the temple, or Candlekeep, by any. The information within is Meri’s written account of events surrounding the Bhaalists. Unlike her actual journal which is available only OOCly for reading enjoyment, this work is available to all ICly.

Consider it my tribute to wonderful Role Players, the spirit of Role Play, the marvel that is this server, and all the staff who have a hand in it. I look forward to whatever the future may hold. I again offer my best, and my sincerest thanks.
//