Aelcar's Diary

[Aelcar]

- Entry Fifteen: Hate

The nightmares again. Every time I fall unconscious in this place, nightmares deprive me of rest. And it's only fitting, because I should NOT rest: I should keep my eyes open and try to find out who this "Master" is, try to make some sense of all of this..this horror. And I should be the first line of defense for the elves...for my friends, like Aiden...for Anu...and for Echo. When I woke up, fortunately she was there, unharmed. If something had happened to her in my sleep, Tyr forbids, I would never have been able to forgive myself. It's been a few we share this dark prison now, and I learned a lot about her...I mean them... HER. Definitely her. She says I put "much weight" on my "mortal shoulders"...it makes me smile. It is something I never considered, for I have grown so used to the fact that my weak, mortal self is sustained by the divine might of Tyr, protected from harm by his divine shield... I guess it just comes with the gift of Faith (and perhaps it's its main corollary). The thing is, if the Even Handed put his faithful servant on this path, it means I possess the means to be His tool of justice...and there is great need of a just finale in this dark, sad story.

I must say that with my left arm broken, my wounds, my waning strength and the curse bestowed upon me, I feel maimed. I feel almost like my connection with Tyr is strengthened, deeper...He never let His menomations get in His way, and following His holy example, neither will I. Echo says the greatest learning comes to us from the direst experiences...very wise words.The only thing I can think about this demon is that he had some confrontation with Elves before, maybe in an ancient era, has been banished somehow and now needs elven blood to enter our plane once more, but there is no way to confirm this, for now..

Since we had no new element to investigate further our situation, we ended up talking about ourselves, and what I found out about her, about her past, deeply moved me. This is the story of Eliania and Vanna ... of the Arch-Wizard Velindur and his students ... of the desperate struggle for what was already there, but was lost in the fire of hate.
Through the voices of the shattered fragments of Eliania and Vanna, I learned that the young and talented Eliania was sent to study with the powerful mage Velindur to develop her gift for sorcery; there, she met Vanna, already a very powerful wizard even if only slightly older than her. In the century they lived together, they became closer than sisters, and they were very much loved by their old teacher and by the other students...But as often happens in this cases, a darkness was enveloping Vanna's heart, and everyone failed to notice it in time. She started to become jealous of the consideration the old Wizard had for Eliania, and of her natural ability to manipulate the weave, apparently effortlessly whereas she needed long hours of study to perform her incantations. She felt disregarded, since her achievements were just as impressive, and she became too blind to see how much the others truly cared for her.
As often happens, jealousy brought pain, the pain grew and became hate. A living, pulsating hate, feeding on destruction...the kind of hate that leads to damnation. Consumed by it, she conjured up a fabled spell called Wish, and involved in her weave Velindur, Eliania and Nemthanon (a close friend, I believe)...She wished for Eliania to die, she wished for her powers to be added to hers, and she wished to be loved by the others.
Such a weaving, imbued with evilness and dark cravings, went out of Vanna's control, and killed her as well as shattering Eliania's self...Velindur tried to save them both, to bring them back, but the particular binding words of the Wish spell prevented him from doing any better than bringing them both back in the same body. With Eliana's self broken to pieces, Vanna took control and killed them all. With his last breath, Velindur revealed that the only way to undo the damage, to be whole again, lies in finding back what was lost...in finding faith.

So even now, despite the tragedy, despite this place strengthening Vanna and allowing her to resurface, there is still hope...there is still something that can be done to mend the wounds, to restore her as a whole, an individual. I will help her, in any way I can. I will help her for the wise Velindur, compassionate even in death, that put love above his own self preservation. For Eliania, innocent victim of a supreme injustice, against everything which I believe in and everything I represent. And most of all, for Vanna, who had everything she wanted in her own hands but was too blind to see, and when she opened her hands to grab it, she let it all slip away forever. For Vanna, desperately in need of that love she already had, that very love she crushed underfoot. For Vanna, that died with the blood of those who loved her on her hands: on my honor, I will not rest until her hate is undone, her soul rests in peace, and Eliania is one again.

[Aelcar]

- Entry Sixteen: Aleesa

And so it came to pass...it was inevitable, I guess. All these years I kept the memories inside me, I never spoke her name again...but in this place, of all places, it had to resurface. My first and only love, gifted for the arcane just as she was in moving through the shadows, or picking a lock...I can't remember her roguish grin, her emerald elven eyes without a pang of pain, of guilt...Aleesa died because of me, because of my blindness.
When Echo asked me if I ever experienced fear, or love, or if I could at least fear for my loved ones, the conversation was drawn towards her like moths to the flame.
I was a neophyte in the Order, and I used to ride out of Waterdeep at night, to some cave complexes within a few candlemarks of travel known to be infested with orcs, goblins and other hostile humanoids, and kill as many as I could. I am not fond of those memories, nor proud of my actions: it was a mere vengeance for what they took away from me during the battle of Nashkell, wounds still bleeding on my body and (even worse) on my soul. I was not a full Paladin yet, and I can honestly say that all the mistakes I have made since then deeply changed me, but at the time I felt that was the only right course of action, and so I spelled her doom.
I always rejected her requests to join me in my fight, so one night she decided to follow me no matter what...She was lost to me, and to the world, ever since. The search parties found nothing, the nearby cities and villages had never seen a beautiful red-haired, green-eyed woman with elven blood passing trough...Gone. All that I have left are fond memories and my ability to speak fluent Elven.
Echo told me that when in Reverie, she (or they...) sees past events as clear as if she were living them again: the snow beneath her feet, the moon high up in the sky...the dancing. I wish it were like this for me...the fonder the memory, the greater the pain...the persistence of loss. One thing for sure: never been much of a dancer, but when we get out of this, I definitely owe her a dance! She can pick the music...
The cycle brought us a little victory, too. I am not sure how meaningful, only time will
tell, but a victory nonetheless. We managed to make Vanna recede after she seized
control of Echo for a prolonged timespan (the longest I have seen so far)...Eliania told me it never happened before...could this be a sign?
She was spitting venom as usual, merrily boasting at how she made Eliania's body kill her lover Uruval, and everyone else at the school, without them realising what was happening until it was too late...Then, she started goading into our situation, scornfully commenting on our pain, our helplessness and how the demonologist is roaming free, his plans unopposed.
Well, the thing is...this is a war. Losing a battle is acceptable. Win the war is the aim. I am here because I chose to, and I fight because I so choose...minor setbacks like this do not discurage me, for I have faith...I believe. Optimism, coming from ushakable faith, is the one and only disease I can ever get, and I am happy to have.
Besides, I have a duty to defend my friends...and to help Echo be whole again. Seeing she could not crack me with the direness of the odds, Vanna changed her attack path. First, she clarified I can never be close to Eliania no matter what, that she will always keep me "at an arm's length"...but that is no problem, really, as I can fulfill my promises from that distance comfortably. Then, she claimed I am trying to help her for my own agenda...to shine in front of my god, which as all gods do not truly care for anything but power. To support this last point, she claimed as evidence the fact that I would lose my powers if I would ever forsake Him. I could not believe it...I shook my head. I smiled. To forsake my god is not a reason for Him to abandon me...it is a barrier I would pose in between us, preventing Him from reaching me. He would NOT withdraw the power from me. It would be my decision to let go of them, to sever the bond. Free will. Gods allow us to choose our path, as it should be. The demonologist chose his own...too bad he will find me at his doorstep.
Free will...that very same Vanna lost to her hate, to her chains of fury, her cuffs of greed, her collar of rage.
When I pointed that out, she threatened me (believe it or not...), vowing the same fate of the other members of the School awaits me: to die by Eliania's hand. Now, no doubt it is common knowledge that scare off a Paladin is NOT a walk in the house garden...When I cheerfully pointed that out, she was so enraged that she receded and gave control over to Eliania once again.

So, you see Aleesa, my love: I can still drive a woman crazy, no matter how evil and powerful she is, and I can do so just speaking my mind...

[Aelcar]

- Entry Seventeen: Promises

I knew they would come. Despite the endless darkness, for an endless time...despite my waning strength, the worry for my friends, for Anu...for Eliania...Despite all of this and more, my faith never wavered. My faith in the Even Handed,in the Anu sisters themselves, in the good elves of Doron Amar and their allies.
And in the darkest hour, when I felt the last residue of life force slowly slipping away from me, and Eliania and Echo were beginning to grow silent, pushed down by the cruel Vanna, they appeared, clad in steel and woven enchantments, cutting their way through the minions of the Demonologist like a ray of light through the darkest night.
Led by no less than Doron Amar Councilor Vanira Talamora, as beautiful as she is lethal, and counting among others the kind hearted Melir Ostirel, and the two Anu twins. Anu...when I saw the joy in their eyes as they saw me quickly becoming anguish at the sight of my blood soaked, shattered body, my heart almost broke in two. They are so dear to me, I'd do anything to make them happy, to keep them safe...
All together, we managed to escape the pocket plane and bring back Eliania, which regained control over Vanna as soon as we were out of that cursed place. This was for me an immense relief, and not even the thought of having accidentally freed an evil arcanist from that place (where he belonged, in all fairness) dented my good spirits.
During our captivity, I have grown extremely attached to her. I found myself thinking about her very often, and I wonder if it's only my desire to help her be whole again, to give all of them peace, or if there is truth in what Vanna says...that I'd wish to..."charm" her (I believe she used that word). It's been so long since Aleesa that I wouldnt even be able to tell, perhaps...In any case, I vowed to help her at whatever cost, and I intend to do just that, regardless of the nature of my feelings towards her.

As soon as we once more stepped into our world, I wholeheartedly thanked everyone for giving us our lives back, and for taking care of Echo as well (they care deeply for her, I can see it). They all went to the Friendly Arm Inn to drink and feast, but I declined...my heart was not into it. Despite the good mood, my mind was (and is) full of thoughts, thick like early morning mountain mist...I needed time for reflection, for meditation. I needed the temple, and so I went straight to the Gate.
Perhaps it was the quiet, long hours of prayer...perhaps the holy aura permeating those halls...but in the seclusion of the temple, I could finally find peace, and rest. The day after, Reverend father Eldric Sulnar, the High Priest himself, promptly answered my request for a meeting. I badly needed guidance, and no one better than him could provide the wise advice I was seeking on the best way to pursue my path, and fulfill my oaths to the ones I love.
High Priest Sulnar soothed my mind, answered my questions, counseled me wisely, and now I can safely say that I know what to do, how to confront what lies ahead: he said that before helping others, I need to take care of myself; first and foremost, I have to purify myself from this foul curse running through my veins...and then, I have to search for the Tome of Exhalted Deeds, in a quest to cleanse the extremely powerful Unholy Blade I found in my scabbard once back from the pocket plane...a weapon too dangerous to be allowed into the realms, and yet a potential asset for good deeds in case the Ritual of Purification were successfully performed on it. After these two quests are completed, I will be able to fully dedicate myself to my friends, and to the promises I made to Aiden and Eliania.

And I never failed to keep my promises before. I fully intend to keep it this way.

[Aelcar]

- Entry Eighteen: Cursed

The cycle after my meeting with the High Priest, right after the end of my "vacation" in hell, while on my way to the Friendly Arm Inn the Hand of Tyr guided me right into a group of adventurers getting ready to perform an important mission: recover a sacred relic from the ruined temple of Lathander in the war-torn Beregost, a holy shield that could not be allowed to fall into evil hands. The force was guided by an eminent Candlekeep's agent, the Elven arcanist Laitae Lafreth, and included a shady fellow named Nroc (who claimed to love Laitae, which in turn seemed ready to kill him..), Silias (a powerful cleric, very close to Laitae sentimentally) and Laya, a mighty warrior I had the pleasure to meet before my forced stay in the pocket plane.
The mission was successful, but surely not thanks to my performance...Since we entered Beregost, I had the first chance to cross blades with the Amnians' finest, and it was..."deadly" disappointing: I had the chance to (painfully) experience just how weak I have become during my imprisonment (thanks to the pure physical distress, as well as the curse tainting me), and I would have been completely ground to dust if it werent for my companions dragging my unconscious and almost mortally wounded self inside the ruined temple. Once the healing powers of Silias brought me back to full efficiency, I vowed unto myself to be much more careful, and conscious of my new limits...
Exploring the ruins, we found a hidden catacomb's entrance under a sarchophagus, and descending we were met with fetid darkness and red eyes in the dark...the unmistakable signs of foul magic at work. As we were making our way through those ancient underground halls, we confronted an increasing number of walking dead, some very powerful (both me and Laya were very hard pressed, at times, holding them off our friends long enough to allow them to cast their spells), until we reached the chamber where the source of this dark forces, a wicked necromancer, was about to perform an unholy ritual on the shield. Acting quickly, we managed to dispatch the black wizard and retrieve the artifact, but on our way back, a distressing scene was staged right in front of what remained of the altar of the Morninglord...
I saw three Amnian soldiers cut the throat of a Fist member in cold blood, in front of the sacred symbol of Lathander...she was bound and helpless, and they laughed as they snatched the life out of her... I could not simply stay and watch, and live with myself after, so I imbued my blade with holy energy and I charged them. I stormed through the distance separating us, hoping to dispatch them fast enough...hoping against hope there could still be something to do for the girl, despite the pool of blood already forming under her body, laying facedown on the cold stone floor...
But it didnt happen. Not only I was beaten, but they utterly destroyed me. They moved at twice my speed, I wasnt able to land a single hit on them, and meanwhile they penetrated my armor like butter, easily avoiding my guard and stabbing, slashing, again and again...In a few seconds, some of the longest of my life, I was down, my blood mixing with the blood of the girl...waiting for the final blow, I remember thinking I couldnt see her face, and it saddened me that not only I had failed her, as well as my companions, but in addition her face wouldnt even have a place in my memory (it didnt even occur to me I was bound to join her on the other side in moments).
Exactly when the axe was about to lower on my neck, a unit of Fist soldiers made their way into the temple (no doubt Tyr's providence), catching the Amnians by surprise and quickly delivering the Justice I should have. When I was healed once more, to add to my guilt and shame I apprehended that Silias had been badly wounded too as a consequence of my reckless action. I laid my hands on her, taking care of the most obvious wounds, but she kept on feeling weak. Fortunately, she would fully recover with some rest, but the losses due to such a personal failure left a very bitter taste in my mouth, despite the overall success of the mission.
The following cycles, while the war was ending, I dedicated myself to help the needy, dispatch criminals on the Traveler's Way and meditate on my errors. I needed to reflect, and come to term with my present "condition"...Tyr sends that I can confront the Demonologist soon, and end this curse...


ADDED NOTE: Today I forced myself to include the sword I..retrieved..into my prayer. It was not easy to concentrate...just the fingers on that black hilt make me sick, and I cannot even think about unsheathing it. I dont trust myself leaving it anywhere unguarded, so I made a thick, black leather scabbard and I bring it with me wherever I go. I submitted it to blessings in that very scabbard, but my powers could not affect the blade...perhaps I need a powerful dispel magic on it first, to deactivate its unholy aura, at least temporarily...

[Aelcar]

- Entry Nineteen: Interlude

It's been a few cycles since I am back now, and I can honestly say I have retaken a bit of control over my life, the Even Handed be thanked! The curse is still tainting me, but it's progress has been brought to a standstill, a classic Lanceboard's stalemate. Since I
cannot win yet, I will settle for that...
My training goes very well, and despite the curse I found the energy to cleanse several dark corners of the Cloakwood, in particular I paid a visit to the Vampires in the Haunted House (where I tested for pure documentative reasons just how "immortal" they are, concluding it's not enough to cross blades with me...) and the Hags hiding in a secluded cave, deep into the heart of the forest. I heard stories of missing travelers, of murders and kidnapping, linked to these two places, and unfortunately I found the remains of several humanoids to confirm the truth of them. They have been avenged, and Justice is done. May their souls rest in peace, and find comfort in Tyr's embrace.
I searched high and low, and managed in the end to find my friend Aiden, right after the end of the war. It's was so good to see him...I felt like if a long lost brother had somehow made his way back to me. He even learned a lot more words in common now, and he can speak it pretty well! I came to know of how he has been looking for me without pause, and even pleading the Doron Amar elves to speed up the rescue operations...he actually joined forces with a prominent member of the Radiant Heart, Deacon Juez Calvo, to increase his chances of success (I need to thank Sir. Arkaine and Juez himself for that, I will not forget such a gesture). To have a friend like him is an undeservedly high reward, a great gift of the Maimed to his loyal and faithful servant.

So...all is well. But as always happens, with all this light some thick shadows creep in the corners of the room. The Unholy Blade keeps on being totally unresponsive to my attempts to purify it...and that is not the worst. Last night I woke up from horrible nightmares, and I noticed that just half an inch of the blade made its way out of the thick black scabbard I created for it...I hastily sheathed it, and fastened it close with leather straps, and the nightmares stopped. Just how powerful...how EVIL is this weapon? I must keep it guarded until I find the Book of Exhalted Deeds, and finally manage to put a stop to the malign aura it emanates. If it were EVER allowed to find its way to the hands of a powerful blackguard, or other evil doers...The disaster must be averted at all costs.

And then, there is of course Eliania. Last time I saw her, she was being escorted to Doron Amar by my elven friends, to be cared for throughout the recovery. I didnt hear of her since, which shouldnt really bother me: she is in good hands, surely better than mines. And yet...it does, in a way I cannot understand fully. It's my sense of duty, the promises I made her, no doubt, and yet...I miss our conversations. I am overly worried, despite her being in excellent company. I dont quite know what's going on, nor why cant I just snap out of it: I have never had too many friends, and ultimately I have always been a loner, with only a sword and an endless war to fight. A war I cannot win, and yet cannot stop fighting. And yet, I miss... oh, Aiden is signalling me. Probably bandits on the move, and the end of this interlude: time to act.

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty: Serenity

And, finally, it happened. Just a few cycles after I wrote it down on this very journal, almost as if Tyr himself had looked into my heart, and decided to kindly grant me its wishes. Only now I realise I have been training in relatively close proximity to the Friendly Arm Inn's area, the last place where I had seen her. Expedition after Expedition, battle after battle I kept on coming back to the campfire right outside the Inn's walled perimeter, or the lake just south of it. To rest, to tend to my wargear, to resupply...but much more than that, secretly hoping to find her there, to talk to her again...to know she is well, to see it with my own eyes.

I kept on coming back, knowing it would take a long time for her to recover from the captivity, especially due to the wounds that no one can see...that weren't caused by the minions of the Demonologist... the wounds I wasnt able to heal with my powers, but that I intend to. That I promised to.
I kept on coming back, knowing how far Doron Amar is, the dangers of the Wood of Sharp Teeth, and all in all how unlikely it would have been to find her where I was.
I could have gone to Doron Amar myself of course: those orcs are no match for me, and I know the path, having been there before.

Still, I received no letter and no formal invitation from anybody, and I like to act according to etiquette...it's just instinctive, a second nature to me. Besides, there is really nothing I could do for her more than the good Elves: there are no better hands, noone more competent and caring.
With these thoughts in mind I was coming back from yet another skirmish with the creatures of the night lurking in the depths of Cloakwood (and that this time almost got me, a big hit to my pride I must say...I am too distracted these days), preparing to sit by the fire with the other travelers once again, when I saw her, exactly like I had imagined.
Yes, that's the point. EXACTLY like I thought it would be...therefore, when the image didnt fade from my view, I thought I had a real problem (a curse?An evil sorcerer? maybe worse...?). I must have looked like a real blinking idiot, because she immediately started to worry about my wounds (nothing much, really! I swear it...), no doubt thinking I had been hit in the head as well...
After the shock, my first impulse was to just rush and hug her, but the onlookers (among whose I recognized my friend Laya) could have taken the situation entirely the wrong way (not to talk about Eliania herself...), so I stopped in front of her (just in time...) and I took her hand into mines instead. So soft and small, and delicate...compared to mines, as hard as leather, I was almost afraid to hurt her.

This was the start of two very pleasant cycles: we dined together at the Friendly Arm, the food Nessie brought excellent as usual. I could enjoy her company for the whole evening, and I arranged for her the best room in the Inn for the night, since I wanted to make things as comfortable as possible in her weakened state. The next day she left her rooms right after I was done with my sword training, so (after a bath...noone should be forced to stay anywhere near me after training before I have a bath...) we walked together to the lake, sat close to the water and enjoyed the nice weather and each other's company. It has been long since the last time I have been this peaceful...calm...serene. I savored every moment of it. For two cycles, the curse, the demonologist, the unholy sword that troubles my nights, the ruins left by the war...they all seemed bearable, defintely not so bad. I found serenity.

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty-One: Journey

I am deeply impressed by the events of this cycle, and I have been staring at this blank page of my diary for a good candlemark, not knowing where to start. In the end, I concluded that the good old say inviting to "start from the beginning" holds more than a few bits of wisdom within itself, therefore I will try...The beginning...I had sent messages to my dearest friends, asking them to meet me at the Friendly Arm Inn, no other explanation. And none was needed really...I almost hoped for noone to show up, because it is hard to say goodbye to people that mean so much to oneself. And this is what I had meant it to be, my last goodbye before a journey which in all likelihood was going to be my last. After all what objective chance could I have? My strength is fading away, drained by the black sword I cannot let out of my
sight...the curse of the Demonologist still taints my blood, further reducing my prowess...the journey itself, with my destination an obscure village deeply embedded in the iced heart of the high mountains south of Nashkell, right through the domain of the Frost Giants, seemed suicidal already by itself, but there was something way worse about the whole travel, a feeling within me, clenching my guts in a cold grip as I studied the map I had found. A trap. I could not say how, nor why...I could call it clairvoyance, a moment of epiphany, a warning from the Maimed, always watchful of his faithful servant. Whatever it was, it smelled of finality...of a price to pay. That is why I was first surprised to see that my dearest Eliania and Aiden first, and shortly after both the Anu sisters had not only answered my call, but they werent inclined to let me go without them. I explained the dangers, I tried to discourage them, but they were rock-solid in their determination. I am indeed a very lucky individual to have the honor to call them friends, and in these instances I see the Even Handed's work most clearly.
We traveled. To Beregost, then further south...we reached Nashkell, and were welcomed by Auril's embrace, so we stopped for supplies and acquired some magically warded capes (it was the minimum I could do for them, after putting them in harm's way like this..), and shortly after we were carving ourselves a bloody path through the Hill Giants first, and the Yetis afterwards. It was a good while I didnt fight side by side with them, and I have to say I am impressed with their improvements: their combat prowess is incredible, and far surpasses my own (even more so in my weakened state), but it's not only that. We were fighting as a team. No, more: we were one.
We cut through the mountain passes like a hot knife blade through butter, and we finally reached the outskirts of the Village marked on the map. The name is escaping my memory (for some reasons I cannot fathom... usually it does not betray me...I only remember it starts with a "B", and I remember it because it's thus marked on the map), but it couldnt be very far from Crimmor, deep within the Cloud Peaks. We fought a small army of well assorted, well organised Bugbears right outside the village, among the smell of decay, the ravens and the howling wolves. When we arrived to the nearby gate, however, all was quiet. Too quiet. Supernaturally quiet, in fact. I had my suspects already (it comes when you serve Tyr for a time, and survive...), but I could never have imagined how "wrong" this place was...

The Guards trying to tell us the village was perfectly safe, with an understaffed and underequiped force, gaping holes in the walls and ill placed sentries...They couldnt remember where one of the most prominent member of this small community's (hardly 50 souls in total...) house was located... I have seen with my very own eyes a kid cutting another one to pieces for a few gold pieces, and turning on us with a superhuman strength as we were trying to shed light on what in the name of Tyr was going on. All things considered, a cold, eerie winter nightmare. Deeply shaken, we gathered our courage and followed the directions provided by a merchant, which guided us directly to Winston Crucinx's doorstep...

I have to say that I knew nothing of Winston, save the information I acquired in the book the High Priest of Tyr indicated me. But if the revered father vouches for someone, I need nothing more: he said this man could help, and I was in desperate need of a solution. Almost immediately after I knocked, a low voice asked me to identify myself, and moments later we were welcomed in. I proposed to go alone, in case (likely) of a trap, but my friends werent inclined to obtemperate to any such request. They were in this with me, till the end if necessary. Despite my worry, I loved them even more for that.
Once inside, despite the more than warm welcome from Winston and his apprentices, I felt that something was wrong, and I wasnt the only one...the Anu sisters were trying to physically pull me out from where we came from, but before I could focus on their whispering explanations, the three individuals morphed and attacked us. Dopplegangers!! The battle was furious, and way past what I can handle right now...not only I failed to defend Eliania, that in the commotion and close quarters was comprehensibly finding hard to weave anything to defend from the monsters' furious assaults, but with each parry and counter-thrust, with each slash, I felt my sword's arm grow heavier and slower, and my shield's one less and less sensitive under the flurry of blows of the beast in front of me...soon, my vision started to blur, and the abomination's attacks began connecting with my armor and helm increasingly often. I could feel my bones cracking under the bending steel, and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Before I realised it, I was on my knees, desperately struggling for breath, but the enemy's likely final blow was deflected by Anu's interposing buckler, and the striking arm severed at the same time by Aiden's huge halberd. The battle raged on, but I was now only a spectator, watching my companions risking their lives for me, for my war, and not able to lift a finger to help them.

By Tyr's will, we triumphed in the end, and justice was done. The real Winston was being held into his rooms, kept alive for some unknown reason by the very order of Vorion, the wizard we accidentally freed from the pocket plane during our escape, and that is no doubt deeply involved with the Demonologist's plot (if he isnt the dark mage himself, surely he is dabbling with infernal powers...). Winston managed to muster the necessary strength to teleport us back into the Temple of Tyr in the Gate, just in time before the remaining villagers, likely all dopplegangers, had the chance to overwhelm us.
Now, I am left with a strange key, a dragon egg and a cryptic letter from Vorion...Questions. Lots of unanswered questions. I hope Winston will be able to shed some light on the situation, once he recovered...Meanwhile, I have but one comfort, and it's good enough to erase all else: I can always count on my friends. They went to great lengths not to let me down, and showed me that no matter how steep the odds, no matter how dire the situation, together we can fight our way to victory. Together. I suppose this is another gift of the Maimed, one of the greatest he has ever bestowed on me: another proof that I am not all alone in the world, like I used to think. Not anymore.

And now, better hurry: it's not wise to make the High Priest wait, when he summons you...

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty-Two: Her

There is something about her, something about the way she makes me feel...the way I act when we are together. I find it hard to explain it...or maybe I just do not want to. Maybe I am too worried to.

When I received her message, I had just completed the last task the Even Handed had put before me, aiding an innocent in dire need (a mother desperate for her young girl kidnapped by the Xvart, south of Beregost, for one of their rituals. Merciful Tyr be thanked, I arrived on time...). I had just entered what remains of Beregost, as usual highly patrolled by the Gate's soldiers and bustling with activity, and had been meaning to tend to my wounds and my equipment, most of all my armor that had been damaged very badly below my sword arm, where a Xvart spear had penetrated several centimeters into my very flesh. I had just dismounted when the messenger gave me her letter...after few moments to read it, I was back on the saddle and galloping north towards the Friendly Arm Inn. I did not think of the pain, nor the fatigue. I washed clean a few hours from my destination, close to a stream on the edge of Cloakwood. I did not sleep. I did not drink. I did not eat.

By now, I seldom do those things. I know I should be worried, and I knew life is fading away from me, like a long-standing, burning candle...but I had not been able to help it. This burden weights heavily on my shoulders, now...almost too heavily. This dark blade, this cursed sword it is too dangerous to use, and too dangerous to leave anywhere unguarded...it whispers to me in my sleep, troubling my rest, and taking away the taste from food, the hunger, the thirst. It adds with the curse of the Demonologist running through my veins, they resonate, wearing me down and slowly but inexorably draining me of my life force. I am in desperate need of time, to cleanse the blade so I can use it to kill the evil mage...to help my friends...to save her. I just hope I will have the force to fight the final battle, when the moment comes...I confide in Tyr's aid: if he wishes to provide his instrument with the strength to be the bearer of His divine justice, then so it shall be.

This is why I am worried about my feelings towards her. I do not believe I can afford them. Do I care for her? Deeply. Is it because I vowed to help her? I used to think so, but it was a deception. There is more. Only, I cannot even bring myself to write it down in my diary...I will probably die before I can even only think it "aloud", let alone say it. It's not like I have much more to live, anyway. Instead, I will write of her rare smiles, like a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds...of her magnetic, blue-eyed stare, curious like a child's ... of her quick mind and impeccable logical approach, her hundreds years of knowledge within the body of a beautiful young girl. Even now, as I take a moment to write before I finally arrive (I would like to be on my way already, but my horse needs rest...), I cannot think about tying her up too tightly to me: tragedy follows in my wake. I am a sword, a tool, a champion of good against evil...I do not belong to myself. Death courts me daily, as it does with everyone around me. A bulwark against darkness...like all weapons, sooner or later I will break, and I KNOW I need to protect those who care for me from this, from my demise. I have known since I joined the Order of the Merciful Sword. The Paladin has to pay the price, without fear, without regret.

I know what I have to do. I know what is right. I will fulfill my fate. And yet, despite everything, I cannot control how I feel. I cannot help but...*writing trails off*

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty-Three: Free

Blessed be the Even Handed, and may he always smile on Archmage Winston Crucinx! Our friendship is a true god-given gift...Finally, I am free of the blade: last night I actually managed to sleep. I cannot remember how long ago the last time was... The problem is not solved, of course, we are a long way from success...but there is a clear line of action, a plan. Winston looks reasonably confident it will work, and even if it does not...it's a start. Everything comes for those who can wait, fortified in the impregnable stronghold of their faith. The unconquerable, unwavering spirit never fails, clad in an armor of rectitude, wielding a sword of justice and a shield of light against the darkness: such is the Path of the Righteous.
But I dont have much time...every moment the unholy sword lies where we are keeping it, the danger increases. Time is against me. Time is a luxury I cannot afford, not now...I regret I was not able to see her again in these cycles...I will send her a letter. Time...Now, it's time to prepare. To search for the gems. To pray. To ride.

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty-Four: Kiss


I have been meaning to talk to her. I have been meaning to ask her advice, to tell her of my progress in the quest to redeem the artifact...of Winston's plan, involving the rare gems known as Eyes of the Tiger, which I desperately need to find as soon as possible... I had these things in mind when I asked Nessie if she knew her whereabouts, and she delivered me her message: she had left, saying she was going to seek a calm place to reflect, by the water. I had left before the barmaid even finished speaking, as I already knew where to go. The lake with the small waterfall, south of the Inn...Of course.

I do not remember the walk. I do not remember who I met along the way (maybe I nodded absently to the travelers I met...maybe...). And when I arrived and I saw her sitting by the lake, her pensive stare lost in the crystal clear water, I forgot all I wanted to say in her wonderful eyes as she turned around to look at me, wonderful clear blue eyes like a mid-spring, cloudless morning. She looked at me, she smiled one of her rare, mysterious smiles...one of those I like to think she has for me only...and all of a sudden, the best I could do was to just dreamwalking towards her and sit right beside, barely speaking, afraid the very sound of my voice, of my concerns, could break the spell...wake me from the dream...ruin everything.

We discussed religion. We discussed faith...She is only moving her first steps towards it, but her quick, bright mind already caught the essence, the heart of everything related to it. Faith and love are so close: intense, intimate, unique. "When these things are found, they are held to. Some become more...a transcendant friendship becomes a pair of entwined hearts, which often becomes something unique to each pair...but the general rules are the same" she said. "Which leads me to wonder if it is a similar sense of knowing..." I will never forget these words. Just like I will never forget what she said next...

"Is it truly that intimidating to allow yourself to acknowledge that you have found what you were unaware you were seeking? After all, you yourself compared faith to such things...It is unfair to yourself to accept one and not the other". Yes it was intimidating. It is. This must be what humans call fear, or as close as I can be to experience it. "Tyr forgive me...but I love you. I love you as much as him...and I would not be able to choose my duty over you. I may be an instrument of justice, a tool of the Even Handed... but my heart is yours".

What happened after, were promises... it was two hearts, two souls speaking to each other...it was lifting her in my arms, her soft hand caressing my cheek, then my neck...a kiss.

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty-Five: United

I am tiring quickly. Despite my blessed physical vigor and health, a gift of the Even Handed to keep His tool sharp and ready to deliver His Holy Justice, the Curse tainting my blood since my imprisonment in the Pocket Plane is slowly advancing. I can feel it, and I can sense it in my beloved Eliania as well, despite her enduring the suffering with a stalwart courage that humbles me and makes me proud...No, I have no time to rest. Not now. Not with so much at stake, and so much to do. The final battle is drawing near...

I have been looking for the gems Winston requires, hoping for the plan to work...We are in dire need for it to go as it should. We need an edge, a fighting chance, a weapon we can use against this monster. Even if we fail in our task to redeem the artifact, I will ride to battle against the Demonologist. I will triumph, or die trying, with my steel drawn, and my last breath exhaled trying to strike down the enemies of all that is good and just... I do not have the strength to voice my dark thoughts to my friends...to my dear Eliania. How could I face the Anu sisters, or Aiden, and tell them that there is next to no chance for me to live through this? Tell those who helped me, sustained me, cared for me, stood by me no matter what for all this time, that all they have done has always been aimed at throwing me against this great evil, that has done so much damage and threatens to do even more? How to tell to Eliania that I am naught but a weapon, a sword of light against an army of darkness, destined to be surrounded and engulfed by shadows in the hope, Tyr help me, to banish them from within?

It would have been difficult at any given time, and it is even harder now that we are...united. Luthien Aerolothi, a High Priestess of Hanali, called us "bondmates" at the end of the ceremony. I am not familiar with the Goddess or her rituals, but I know what I feel for her, and that she feels for me just the same. I could see in her eyes what this union meant to her..."a pair of entwined hearts", as she once said to me in one of the happiest moments of my life. I knew it meant just as much to me. It gives me just the unyelding determination I need to stare into the abyss, sword in hand, my faith unwavering.

The Demonologist...Vorion's letter, implicating him without doubt in this dark project...a dragon's egg...a key...it will all come together, soon. The sands of time are running low on the villain, and retribution for all the bloodshed, all the suffering, all the lives lost is at hand. I have no regrets, whatever the outcome. I lived the way I felt was right, and I will die like I lived. My heart bleeds at the thought I might not see her again, kiss her, hold her in my arms anymore, but I am happy I let her into my life, and grateful to Tyr for what we had, what we have, and all we will have, however short it might turn out to be. I will treasure our bond, love her until my life is over, and beyond...love her as the time to pay the price approaches...and vanquish the enemies of Justice all along, with my friends' help and by Tyr's sacred will.

For I am Justice. Clad in Steel and Wrought by Faith, the Spirit remains unconquered.

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty-Six: Trials

I had the feeling this would have been a difficult travel, and I did not have to wait long for confirmation. It is a sort of "sixth sense" I have...I anticipate danger, or unpleasant situations...it feels a bit like a storm coming for a wheater woman: not unfailingly right, but often enough to begin seriously worrying...

The day started in the best possible way. The Anu Twins, Eliania and me reached without inconvenients a small, secluded port, and found without problems a ship sailing towards the city Winston suggested me. All seemed perfect (apart from the captain's unreasonable requests and his first mate's stares towards me, like if she were trying to strip me of my armor right there on deck...), when I found out rather surprisingly that, of the four of us, I was the only one not having a problem with water. I will not enter the details here ... suffice to say that if for some incredibly lucky coincidence, and by the will of the Maimed, I survive all of this, I'll better bring my beloved and friends on a forest vacation, rather than a sunny beach...

The sea was mercifully calm (and despite this, the twins were not in their best shape after the travel...), but the city itself reserved us a quantity of surprises that made for a very interesting, if short, permanence. As we disembarked, and the ship's crew dispersed, a mysterious individual clad in steel and wielding a rather sizeable warhammer began chanting, and the water stirred dangerously, growing more and more threatening as he prayed. Sensing an evil purpose behind it, I approached to stop the ritual, but his answer was a mighty swing of his weapon, aimed at crushing my skull. Being prepared, I managed to avoid the worst of it and recover my balance as my companions began the fight. Despite his evident power, he was hardly a match for the combined Druidic powers of the Anu Twins, and he was quickly dispatched. The sisters told me later, as Eliania was studying the residual magic left by the priest's actions, that they were rather sure he was a priest of Umberlee. I know her to be an extremely vengeful deity, so I'll have to be careful near open water from now on: drowning, dragged down by my full plate and cape, would be quite an underwhelming way to fail in serving the Even Handed's cause. On the corpse, we found fragments of a gem, unmistakably a Tiger's Eye, smashed during the fight. The gem was lost, but Winston had been right in sending us there...and if he had been right all along, we still had a chance.

We proceeded through the city, as it became more and more clear to me that something was wrong with the whole settlement. The guards were strangely absent, or slow to react when actually there. The set-up itself, with an alchemist tower, a ruined half-sunken rook, a centuries old giant tree directly overlooking the sea was odd, and the alarm bells inside my head began ringing with renewed vigor. The encounters we had were the weirdest: a lustful noblewoman offered us the Tiger's Eye in her possession for an amount of "intimate" quality time with me...I was too surprised to voice my protests, but my dear bondmate took care of the matter in no uncertain terms.
A little girl had lost her own deep underwater, and the Twins courageously used their powers to recover it, despite their ... reluctance. One of them was injured by the creatures they found guarding the gem, and I was worried sick at the thought of losing her, and felt (and still feel...) guilty for letting them go without me.
A crazy alchemist that was in truth a demonologist, agent of Vorion himself (I found another of his missives in his rooms), and tried to kill me when I discovered the true nature of his activities. Sadly for him, he had to reconsider when half a meter of my holy steel pierced his heart, sending him directly to answer the Triad for his sins.

In hindsight, I can clearly see that this was nothing but a long serie of trials, tests to my faith, no doubt needed to fortify my spirit for the times to come. Despite the fact that we, in the end, gained the gems we needed and managed to sail back, I cannot set my mind at ease. There is a trial I did not pass ( or, at the very least, not yet), and the consequence of my failure have been devastating.

We were still hunting for gems, and I arrested a hin who possessed one of them. A thief, a smuggler, surely, but nothing more. I was trying to find a guard to consign the bound and gagged halfling to justice, when the unthinkable happened: Vanna, who had resurfaced few moments before, had far darker plans that just banter with me this time: when I came back with the guard, only a pile of ash remained in place of the poor prisoner. I was stunned, and could not understand what happened. The officer believed my story, and was happy I guided him to the smuggler's stash, and shrugged indifferent at the victim's remains (containing the gem, that I had utterly forgotten), just walking away as Vanna laughed and confessed her doings.
I do not think I have ever seen the Twins so angry and disappointed in me before. I had betrayed them, I had brought an enemy with us and failed to advise them, to keep things under control. It took a mighty effort to convince them not to consign her to the executioner, which of course would have been a sin, as the innocent Eliania would have paid while Vanna would have escaped judgement, much the same way I knew happened often in the past. Desperate, Eliania receded, grieving inside while Echo, cold and rational, took over and consigned her wrists to the twins, readily complying to their requests to restrain her. It happened in interminable instants, too fast for me to do anything meaningful and yet a lifetime long, as I was struggling with myself not to free the woman I love, and at the same time not to consider giving in to my friends' requests to lock her up forever and throw the key in the ocean to avoid more meaningless deaths at Vanna's hand.

As we traveled back to the ship, I put my cape around her to cover her bonds, holding her in my arms as Echo was trying to rationally explain to me how she was not going to let Eliania speak anymore, how she intended to remain tied up to prevent further risks, how she was not going to slip anymore, how she should have been more careful...
I listened to her, caressing her soothingly, and knowing it was all my fault: I should have been more careful. I should have been stricter. I should have warned my friends, so that they could have helped. And, most importantly, my feelings slowed me down decisively. Because I love her, and I pity Vanna for the tragedy of her life. For having it all and throwing it away. For thinking she lost everything, and then losing a whole lot more in an unforgivable, desperate gesture...

There are trials that just never end: you know you love someone when you are ready to face them for her. When you just cannot picture your life without her. When you would do anything just to be able to be with her. When the worst part of dying is not to be able to see her again, just one more time. Just one more.

I pray Tyr gives me strength to do what I must, when the time comes...

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty-Seven: Requiem

The preparations are finally over, and I am ready to depart.

My shield has been reforged: given the damage it sustained, I preferred not to risk leaving without ensuring its structural integrity. A new mantle has been sent by the Order of the Merciful Sword, from Waterdeep, and it arrived only few weeks ago...this is the perfect occasion to wear it, a real trial by fire if I have ever seen any. The ceremonial armor my friend Mealir gifted me has been polished, its indestructible plates shining of a dark grey light, with shades of black where arcane runes are engraved in the very steel. I pray the Maimed that this ancient and glorious item will be enough to deflect my enemies' attacks, at least long enough to do what I have to...

As I write these lines, I cannot help but glance towards it, the sword. My greatest achievement to this day, as a servant of the light: once an unholy blade, created to corrupt minds and steal souls, to be a scourge upon the world. I still remember it tainting my dreams and whispering in my ear, inviting me to use it for the greater good...even I, shielded by the Even Handed, could feel the pull of that dark, sinister yet seductive voice, calling for blood...
Now, thanks to my friends' and Winston's help, it has been purified. The Cleansing Ritual consigned to my humble care a powerful instrument of justice, a blade of light to disperse the looming darkness this Demonologist brought upon us all. I spent one night and one day with it, just holding it in my hands and praying. Coming dawn of the second day, its true name came to me...

The blade was reborn to be the end of the foul necromancers and diabolists that caused so many deaths, and so much strife to the good people of the Coast...to avenge cruelty, vindicate injustice, and cut through lies and subterfuge, endlessly seeking Truth in the holy name of Tyr and the Triad. It was reborn as Requiem, the song of death announcing the end of the servants of hell in commemoration of all their victims.

The stable boys had Cloud, my warhorse, armored, saddled and battle ready...It is time, at long last. I will leave to the High Priest four letters, for the Anu twins, for Vonjan, and for my beloved Eliania. I tried to explain face to face why I have to go without them, but they could not understand, as feelings sometimes get in the way of our judgement. Perhaps letters will be more effective...most likely they will not, but one can always hope in miracles.

May the Even Handed give me the wisdom to make the right choices, the resolve to carry on with them even when the path becomes hard to tread, and the strength to do what needs to be done.

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty-Eight: Revelations


I gave myself the chance to recover. I have prayed, meditated, waited for a sleep that would not come. I took time to think, to reflect, to pick up the pieces of my convictions, of what was certain in my life, and now lays shattered like a broken tin vase by the enormity of what was revealed to me last night.

I keep sitting in front of this diary, staring at a blank page without being able to summon the force of will to actually write...it's as if writing it down would somehow make it all real, instead of yet another clever plot of the Demonologist to twist my mind, a cunning scheme to drive me insane, or at least off the carefully concealed trail of blood and death leading to him.
Ohh, I wish it were a nightmare...how I wish it. I would rather face death itself than have to acknowledge this as the truth. But as usual in the life of a servant, this is not about what I want. It's about doing what I must.
Duty is the heaviest of burdens, and the first and foremost duty of a Knight is to seek truth, recognize it, and act according to it. There is no other way to make sure true justice is done.
As a Paladin of Tyr, I know I am primarily a tool of his divine justice. It is time to face the truth, in all its inevitability.

I killed the Demonologist last night. I entered a sort of pocket plane called the Asylum, a dark place of creeping shadows and eerie light. A graveyard of souls, where a creature can truly cease to exist, snuffed out like a match already dim and damp. He himself invited me there, and sent his minions to escort me to his rooms. Once I was there, he asked me to end him. He asked me to slay him and dispense justice, to finally avenge all those innocents he and his minions tortured and butchered. I listened to his story, and I know deep inside as I knew then, that all he told me was true. Every last word. I listened to him, then I drove my holy sword through his heart. One quick, merciful thrust. I offered a prayer to Tyr for all his victims' souls...and his own.
Only then I allowed myself to shed silent tears on my brother's body.

The story he told me began thousands of years ago, with a fallen Solar named Malagard. He was among the brightest, most powerful servants of Tyr, and the strife and destruction he caused after he embraced darkness was unmatched. Few dared to cross his path willingly, and everyone unfortunate enough to face his wrath was crushed by his unholy might.

In order to stop his nefarious deeds, the famous Paladin Valia Lightbringer and her companions fought him at the gates of his very dark citadel. Wielding her legendary Katana Azure Light, Valia was a fearsome opponent...but still, no match for the power of Malagard. He killed everyone else, and spared her life only to force himself onto her and "curse" her with child.

Despite being a prisoner, with a son brought to her by violence, Valia did not break: she educated Siann to be a true knight, teaching him Tyr's dogma as he grew up, and how to uphold it in every situation. This prevented him from falling under the dark influence of his father.

There was, however, something Valia was not aware of: her enchanted sword, had been secretly corrupted by Malagard with unholy rituals, and reforged into the vampiric Dancer. When she finally donated it to Siann, his will was subdued by the blade, and he was forced to commit unspeakable atrocities while wielding it against celestials, humans, elves and all races alike...
In the end, the sword claimed the life of Valia herself, the only creature who ever really loved him.
Furious, Siann overcame the will of the blade and swore to never wield it again, as well as to exact vengeance on his father for this.
For a time, he managed to live in peace, in the tranquillity of a forest, isolated from everyone else but his wife and two sons.

However, as often happens, the evil of the past never stops haunting the wicked: an elven patrol found him and tried to apprehend him in order to make him answer for his crimes. Siann immediately surrendered, unwilling to spill any more innocent blood, but his eldest son seized the blade in an attempt to defend his father. The blade missed the nearest elf, but claimed his mother's life instead, striking her down as the horrified child was unable to stop the wide swing. Siann stood, trying desperately to aid his wife, but the elves killed him swiftly, fearing resistance.
Immediately after, the blade and its bearer vanished, leaving the two parents dead and the youngest son an orphan among strangers.
Me.

My brother became the Demonologist, gathering souls (preferably elves, and innocent) through blood rituals to gain enough power to stop grandfather from becoming a god, a path which he apparently began to walk hundreds of years ago. He sold his soul to infernal powers, and he committed atrocious crimes, knowing he would have to answer for them forever, through all eternity. Then, he died on Requiem, my blade...or perhaps I should say Dancer...He thought that this way, justice would be done, and I would have the right weapon to put an end to Malagard's reign of terror...the energy of the souls he tortured, now contained within the blade, is ready to be released on grandfather's death.

The final battle between the first and the last of my blood. I pray Tyr deems me worthy, and blesses me with the strength to do what must be done. I am ready to pay whatever price to purify my family from this taint, this darkness, and stop this curse...

Malagard was a glorious servant of Tyr, an embodyment of light. But he has fallen, and will find me at his doorstep.

The day of reckoning is closing in, grandfather...

[Aelcar]

- Entry Twenty-Nine: Maw


I spent the last days in isolation. I would have loved to see the Anu sisters and my beloved Eliania, just one more time...but it's far too dangerous. The letters I have left will have to suffice. I have also left word to High Priest Sulnar in Tyr, just in case I do not come back...which seems fairly likely, given the circumstances.
Not only I needed to pray, meditate, steel myself as the time draws near, but to my dismay, my sword is getting more and more difficult to control with every passing day, and I do not trust myself in the presence of others.

The weapon that was the holy Azure Light wielded by my mother, then reforged into the vampiric Dancer by my grandfather, and subsequently (partially, as I discovered...) cleansed by my friends and me into Requiem...A weapon that is intelligent, self-aware, and all in all never stopped being Dancer despite our attempt at purifying it. It's trying to control me...not just when I draw it, when I wield it...Even when it's sheathed, I am locked in a constant battle of wills, a battle that I am closer and closer to lose as it gets stronger, and hungers for confronting grandfather.

I left Cloud to the cares of Master Mirrorshade's stablemen, had my armor repaired and my shield completely reforged. I am as rested and prepared as I am going to be, and I feel Tyr's blind yet all-seeing eyes watching over me, benevolent, comforting. Now, I only have to wait for Malagard to make his move. I do not need to find him...he will come for the souls inside Dancer, his key to ascension. He will come for me, the last of his bloodline.

The Maw of Death will open for me soon enough. I am ready.