Church of Ilmater RP

[g1megatron]

The outskirts farmers and villagers come to the shrine still. They show the cuts and marks laid into their children, their deaths that the bhaalist are on the move.

The farmers talk of arming themselves against them. Others just join the chants of doomsaying while the energy weeps through their lungs.

Later that evening, the bodies of two darkly clad young men are brought upon wagon heading towards the fist, stopped by the many guards as to the meaning of this.

A new rumors spreads that the two youths were 'bhaalist', yet they appear so young to be so cruel.

It is clear that every death, no matter the side; is finding purchase among the populace and public to hang upon the life of a single child tucked away in the hands of ilmater.

[LeslieMS]

[As messengers reach Meri with news of recent events she frowns. Knowing for so long that the uneasy silence was little more than a calm before some brewing storm. She sighs heavily as she continues her vigil and prayers. It has been days since she or the boy have been seen at the temple...]

'Mercy of Ilmater... I beg your strength. I fight anger and hate from so many sides... guide me well, for I do not think we have come so far just to fall to dispair and discontent.'

[rokranon]

A paladin in gleaming plate mail steps into the temple of Ilmater, looking rather out of place. He nods to a few familiar faces, and takes up a spot in the serving line for tonight's dinner. This act earns the man some curious looks, but he does not seem to notice as he continues to serve broth to the people.

After dinner he distributes blankets to those in need, and reads to a few of the gathered children. Before leaving that evening, he leaves a donation of medical supplies for Sister Abby, or any other ranking member of the church.

A number of people hear him murmurs as he leaves, "Rest easy, servants of the Crying God. The Loyal Fury serves to protect you." With that, Jonas leaves the temple and returns to Istari tower.

[g1megatron]

The crowds continue to grow at the doorstep to Baldur's Gate. Peasants not often prone to acrimony let the bitterness of lost ones closest to their hearts bellow forth from their horse throats. Petitioners start to line up, the word has come to their homes that if the ilmater shrine gives up their ward, the end of unnatural deaths will stop and life will resume.

Tearful mothers and heart wrenched fathers, souls asunder without cause. People with productive, though simple lives, leading them the best they know and as they should, now suddenly dead.

Fist patrols to the area take caution, now torn in duty for protecting the city, yet serving it's people.

Tom: "What are we going to do?"

George: "I don't know, but this is just isn't right"

Tom: "I say we give those bhaalist what they want"

George: "I say we give those bhaalist their come-uppins.

Tom: "You know we've been losing some fist trying to patrol those outskirts, soon there won't be any outskirts left to patrol"

George: "Then they died in duty."

Tom: "I can't right say they had a honorable death, right ignoble you ask me. Who's this tart that thinks they can play gods with us and invoke the wrath of bhaal"

George: "I hear it's the very saintly one. I can't see how a saint would let this go though; damn shame you ask me... the people's reputation of them is starting to change, even the dukes are taking notice."

Tom: "You don't think them doomsayers is right, about the.."end"."

George: "You fell and hit your head as child, only end you'll see is at the pointy side of a sword. Yet this can't keep going on, if it does revolt is in the air.."

Tom: "Aye, seems the ilmater's are being unreasonable, starting to wear thin the benefit of the doubt."

George: "With the iron coming scarce, it's lucky we joined back when and got quality swords. Better keep an eye on yours, some recruits are quick fingered."

[Knightmare]

A hooded man who had been standing in the crowd eavesdropping for a while suddenly speaks up.

"So... what is all this then? It is a cunning plan deviced by the followers of Ilmatar to rally more support and followers to their cause? Are all those relatives of yours suffering due to the whim of a fading God who seeks to increase his strength and influence in these times of despair? If not, why doesn't Ilmatar himself intervene to put your minds at ease, to let you know that your trust in him is well-placed?"

Some more of the bystanders start to listen in.

"Or, could all this be the twisted mind of Bhaal tormenting you good people? Does Bhaal want to see the Ilmatari suffer, and if so, can they endure the suffering that is done unto them?
But I have not seen a single Ilmatari suffer for your cause. It is your relatives, your children, that suffer! The Ilmatari are supposed to suffer pain to lessen that of others, yet I have not seen any of them shed a single drop of blood.

Whatever the thruth is, this will continiue unless you do something about it yourselves..."

The hooded man turns and walks into the night, leaving his words behind for the farmers and villagers to contemplate. Will they be considered to hold some truth or will they be those of another doomsayer? Only time will tell.

[rokranon]

*Sir Jonas Rokranon leaves the Sanctuary of Ilmater after spending some time speaking to Sister Abby, Sir Adam, and Master Boddynock about the current situation. He looks upon the crowd with great sadness. Casting a quick spell, Jonas clears his throat and attempts to address the throng of people. The tools he brings to bear on the gathering are his natural (and unnatural) charisma [28 total] and learned diplomatic skills [45], and his desire that at least some will remember his past deeds for the realm. His lavender eyes scan the crowd as he speaks; he tries to make direct eye contact with as many as he can.*

"Citizens in and around Baldur's Gate, some of you may remember me from days past. I am Jonas Rokranon, paladin of Torm, Knight of the Order of the Radiant Heart, and Weave Master Guardian. Know that the churches of the Triad grieve with you over the loss of your loved ones. We exist to protect you all, and must take some responsibility for events of late. However, you must accept that the responsibility is yours, also. I understand your suffering, but you need to see that your demonstrations here are causing the enduring suffering of others. This assembly prevents the sick and poor from being able to enter Ilmater's sanctuary for the assistance they require. You demand that the child is given to the Bhaalists in order to stop any attacks. But will this solve the issue? Alas, it will not.

By giving in to the Bhaalists, the forces of darkness win. They want the child for their own plots and schemes. Will giving up this child bring your loved ones back? No. Will it make your pain and suffering go away? No. Only time and acceptance can heal the wounds of your hearts. Giving in to evil to defeat evil is never the way. We must turn to the Light, and have faith that we can win.

Grieve as you will, but please, do not allow your grief to enable the fall of darkness on our beloved Baldur's Gate and the surrounding lands. Instead of directing your anger here, direct it into the protection of your remaining loved ones. Of your family. Of your neighbors, as well as friends. Turn your anger not into vengeance, but into a talisman, a shield against the evil that would prey upon your fears and sorrow. We must stand together."

*He looks over the crowd a few moments longer, then makes to leave.*

"May Torm protect you, one and all."

[g1megatron]

*Some of the peasants look back and forth to one another. A few murmur, others whisper. The name of Jonas, touches on a few lips; gossip of "married", "his child".

A few people, those who appear their emotions hang by a thread sit and sob, others shake their heads and some seem to nod with begrudging acknowledgment.

Still, there are those that spit, narrow their eyes and grow exasperated; as though the quality of their life has been insulted, salt in an open wound, for a man such as this to attempt to dismiss their plight with words.

[Knightmare]

A hoarse chuckle can be heard from the shadows nearby, rising in pitch until it is a scornful laugher. Many from the crowd revert their attention to the hooded figure as he calmly strides through the crowd, arms wide open as to symbolically include them all. He moves forth through the crowd, up to the temple's entrance, then back and comes to a halt in the center of the gathering.

"Lo and behold how hard it is to walk through this gathering of good, honest people. The servant of Torm tries to dispand you with a few words of false promise, yet have I not just shown how easily it is to reach the temple of the false savior? Oh, it is not because the sick and poor cannot reach the temple, and nor is it because they do not have the capacity to accept your suffering relatives. It is because they lack the will and interest in doing so!"

The people in the crowd starts to mumble and whisper to each other, some pointing and shaking their fists angrily at the temple.

"They hide behind their stone walls in their sanctuary where they revel in their own so-called righteousness but where is their reverence for your deceased and injured? It is conveniently dismissed by a man who asks you all to simply forgive and forget... but what if it was his children, his wife, would he then so readily give up hope of vengeance and justice? Would he not seek to destroy that which is causing his woes and heartache? I pose this question for you all to reflect upon: how can he hypocritically ask for your forgiveness on the behalf of himself and the temple of Ilmater when they are the ones who indirectly are to blame for your sufferings?!"

He almost yells out the last sentence and the crowd seems to get agitated. Some of the bystanders despot and curse the Gods of the Triad and others throw rocks and pebbles upon the temple. The hooded man raises his hand, gesturing for the crowd to settle and he continiues with a calm and solemn voice.

"Ilmater, that false saviour, preaches and advocates martyrdom and all of the Ilmatari is bound by that oath of his, but none of them adhere to it when something wicked their way comes! Why is it that all of you must endure such agony and despair when it can be stopped by the sacrifice of one? The child they protect is the cause of all your sufferings. He bears the mark of Bhaal and only by making him a matyr will your sufferings end. But no, they are not willing give him up, and for what reason; that darkness will have won? Look around you, my good men and women. Darkness has already won, and if the light is to reign once again, a sacrifice has to be made.
Deep down, you all know that what I am speaking is the truth! The question at hand is whether we all wait for that deranged woman in there to stop her iniquities or whether we go ask her where to find that child so that we can claim if for ourselves!"

There is a roar among the crowd and several Fist patrols rush to the scene. The hooded figure prepares for a quick escape, but a nearby peasant asks:

"Sir, who are you? What may we call you?"

The hooded person send him a cunning grin.

"You may refer to me as the Dark Messiah"

He turns around and disappears into the night.

[LeslieMS]

[A messenger arrives. There are no discerning marks to state where he is from or where he is bound to once he goes... in fact it is not readily apparent he is a messenger at all. He delivers a large supply of bandages and various herbs. He then sits and eats a bit of bread observing the things and people in, and around the temple. He casually makes note of supplies that are lacking. Just before leaving he turns to Sister Adolina, he thanks her for the bread and wishes well all in ear shot as he hands a sealed letter to Sister Juna.]

'May the Mercy of Ilmater find you all. See that Sister Abby gets this.'

[With that he turns to leave without another word.]

[Laurk]

Ser Jonas and the Dark Messiah give their speeches. Within the small Sanctuary, the healer's go about their work... listening with heavy hearts as heavy words are spoken. They do not sleep well that night.
The next morning, the healers arise and begin preparing the Sanctuary to recieve the downtrodden much as they do every day. As Abby works beside sister Adolina to prepare the morning meal, she tries to think of some words she can give that will blunt the anger and suffering beyond her doors. What can she possibly say that would make anyone understand why their children's death was neccessary in some cosmic chess match between gods?

Abby pulls open the Sanctuary's modest wooden door and steps out into the bright morning sunlight. A small woman dressed in the shabby threadbare vestments of her faith. She bares no ornamentation, no wealth, no weapons or armor. She is not impossing or lofty, she is a face looking upon a crowd of faces who are no differant than she. They see a humble woman in threadbare rags. She would look like any of the poor who found shelter within the temple were it not for the tools of her trade which mark her as a healer. She takes confidence in that she is known here to many, loved by many, despite the Dark Messiah's message the day before. Some smile at her, others are indifferant. In some, she sees only anger or even rage. Behind her the other healer's step out from the Sanctuary, surrounding her. Rachel and Adolina, Juna and old brother Marcus, bent with age and disoriented.

The humble healers of Ilmater, all of them dressed like Abby, wearing only the stains of their labors as ornamentation. They speak to one another in low voices, some nervous, others more accustomed to the public. Brother Martin smiles a toothless grin, at Abby's comforting touch upon his ancient shoulder. Its clear he is confused as to how it is he came to be outside.

Abby looks back to those gathered outside the shabby temple. There is a hush, perhaps they expect a speech she thinks. But speeches are not her way. She steps over the cobbles, to the first woman before her. The woman is perhaps thirty and dressed in common garb. Her face is drawn with grief. Abby knows she has suffered, there is anger in her eyes. Blame. The small healer offers a small and sad smile and says: "Good morning mi'lady.. Im sister Abby, a healer of this Sanctuary." Abby lowers her eyes and takes a breath. "I want you to know... I a-am truly sorry for your loss..." There is no acting, no prewritten speaking points. Her sorrow is real. Her guilt for their loss is not a show. Empathy, the true mark of the Crying Lord's gentle flock. The two begin to speak.

Soon the other healers behind her follow sister Abby's lead. They mix into the crowd and begin talking to those present a person at a time. They share suffering with those who grieve, they reply to anger and screaming with gentle condulences and sorrow... asking forgivness for that which has befallen. There are those who demand explaination. To this, Abby can only offer that these things are beyond her control, that she and her fellow healers are doing all that they can to end this suffering. All that is within their power, such as it is.

For many, the words of the Dark Messiah seem hollow and silly after meeting and speaking with the humble healers of Ilmater. It is clear that these people do not hold themselves above others. They keep no wealth, do not desire power, and the sorrow they feel for each person's loss is not easily denied.

By their vows of poverty, purity and peace, the flock of Ilmater has for thousands of years been accepted among those who have nothing as helpful bretherin who work out of compassion rather than self gain. Love instead of a desire to seem righteous. In speaking with these healers... these truthes seem obvious to many of those gathered outside Ilmater's Sanctuary. Of course there are those who's suffering has bred bitterness. Those who will not easily be asuaged. But the healer's move on, from person to person, expressing sorrow for a lost child, brother, sister or friend...

For a long while, the healers speak to those gathered until it seems their work is done. Lunch time draws near, and they begin to shuffle back into the Sanctuary to begin their labors anew. Abby turns at the door and looks back.

"We are o-only healers, but if th-here are any among you who wish to speak with me... our d-doors are always open. Please... go in peace or stay as you wish... and know that whate-ever you c-choose... my heart, and Ilmater's as well w-will go with you. Until t-then, know that I s-shall do all that is in m-my power to see this c-come to an e-end as soon as possible.... f-for whatever worth that is."

Then the healers go back to their work.

****************

Annnd.... for the record Abby has a Charisma of 20 and a diplomacy of 18 while she's doing this.

[rokranon]

*Jonas sends the following letter to the Prelates of the Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla. He sends similar letters to the heads of the churches of Torm, Tyr, and Lathander asking for guidance. In the mean time, he personally begins meeting with individuals whom he trusts to undertake a possible assault.*

Prelates,

I hope by now you have heard of the troubles with Bhaalists for the Sanctuary of Ilmater in Baldur's Gate. If you have not, these Bhaalists seek a boy currently protected by Sister Merielle of Ilmater. It is my understanding that they need this boy for some ritual that will allow the Lord of Murder to walk this plane. The Bhaalists have taken to killing the children and other loved ones of the inhabitants in and around Baldur's Gate in order to force Merielle to give up the boy. Riots occur in front of the Sanctuary every day. Merielle will give the boy up to no one else for protection, as she has been told by Ilmater that she must protect him.

I tried to speak to the crowds to little avail. As a result of my attempt, the Bhaalists sent several assassins after me, personally. My likeness was found on some parchment on their corpses. Afterwards one spoke from the shadows to me, trying to entice me to give the child to them. I refused, and they promise more suffering. They await the will of Merielle to fail so that the child will be theirs.

A local paladin of Lathander, a Sir Adam Reynolds, has asked me to lead an assault on the temple of Bhaal to fight the Bhaalists. While I have no qualms with destroying a temple dedicated to evil, I fear such an act will only bring more retribution on the innocent. I respectfully request your guidance in this matter. In addition, I request any available knights to be sent here to help us protect those who cannot protect themselves until a solution can be found.

I need not tell you the child cannot be handed over. We must not give in to evil in order to fight it.

Sincerely,

Jonas Rokranon of Torm
Weave Guardian Knight
Knight of the Radiant Heart

[Disciple of Bhaal]

*One of the messengers never makes it to their destination. The poor soul is left pinned with stakes to a tree near the tradeway, with a symbol of Bhaal carved into his chest for all to see. The letter is missing, along with any valubles*

[Knightmare]

The "Dark Messiah" listens to the benedictions and soothing words of the healers with contempt. Feeble words of solace and false promise for the feeble minded, but many people in the crowd take them in. Dozens of individuals leave the area with elated looks on their faces after the healer's ceremony of benevolence.

"Yes, that's right... seperate the sheeps from the wolves for me. I need only the determined and those whose anger in their hearts won't go away by words alone; those who want to have vengeance, retribution... blood!"

He returns two days later to see that the crowd has grown considerably in size. Those who left after the comforting words of the healers have easily been replaced by twice the numbers of new arrivees. When darkness descends and enshrouds the city in twilight, he covers his face and steps into the crowd with a cunning look on his face.

"Some of you have awaited my return... and even more have come. And with good reason! Some of you were not mesmerized and fooled by the false words of the so-called saviors; the protectors of the innocent, the guardians of truth and the enforcers of justice. You have all been bestowed with the clarity to see through their lies and false propheties. It is still your children and relatives who die out in the fields, yes, in your very homes. Despite the offorts of the Ilmatari they are still dying! And they will continiue to do so... and why, you ask? Because they do nothing but treat the symptoms. They do nothing about the thing that is causing the problems and woes in the first place. The child... the child is the key to your sufferings. If you ever want this misery and despair to seize, we must go and claim him!"

[Laurk]

A soft knock in the infirmary door sounds and sister Adolina peeks inside. "He's back Abby."

Abby looks up from an aging patient laying before her. She whispers some instruction to Sister Juna and then heads out to see the rabble rouser.

As she steps out of the Sanctuary, wiping her hands onto her stained vestments, she listens to his fiery rhetoric. When at last he is finished, she calls to him, a small impoverished healer contrasting to the dark masked and hooded speaker.

"If you mean t-to smear our g-good name s-ser, than at least u-understand who you a-are besmirching. This is a place f-for those who have nothing to r-recieve healing, f-food and clothing. What w-we are "not" are false prophets, protectors or enf-forcers of justice."

"The only protecting w-we do here is t-to protect those w-who have no g-gold against plague and s-starvation."

"The only prophecies we promise a-are that so l-long as people s-still donate supplies out of t-the kindness of their h-hearts, if you c-come here with nothing, you w-will leave fed and healed."

"The only truth w-we guard is t-that w-we will neither judge you n-nor turn you a-away if you a-are in need."

Opening her empty hands she goes on: "As f-far as e-enforcing justice... we l-leave that t-to knights and t-the law. We a-are not warriors here... we a-are s-simple pacifists and healers, one a-and all."

"Sister Merielle believes s-she is a-acting on t-the will of Ilmater, but I c-cannot speak one w-way or t-the other of her d-divine charge. Her c-church is s-seperate f-from that of t-this Sanctuary, and I c-cannot speak f-for their policy a-and method. It is n-not my place to do so, and s-she is not acting on t-the behalf of this Sanctuary. We are not p-protecting s-sister Merielle's charge here, nor d-do we have t-the power to tell her w-what she should d-do with him. She is not one o-of my healers, and t-though s-she is a f-friend to our Sanctuary, it is n-not within m-my power t-to tell her what she m-must do. I have c-counciled her in w-what I thought would bring the s-swiftest end t-to this horror... but I cannot m-make her d-do anything she d-does not feel is w-wise. She is w-working a-as hard as she can toward putting a s-stop to the horrible murder inflicted upon us all b-by the cult of Bhaal... but I have no power or authority t-to compell her t-to do anything more. She is not here, and w-will not r-return so long as this horror c-continues."

"In inflaming p-people w-who have b-been hurt by s-sensless violence and evil, you will a-acomplish nothing except t-to hurt our e-efforts here t-to keep plague f-from the s-streets and s-starvation f-from the eldarly and c-children w-who have no one t-to care for them. We are not a-armed nor have w-we any d-defense. We have n-no power nor wealth... not e-even a copper. We g-give our lives only t-to the service of others. If it i-is your wish t-to b-bring hate t-to our door... w-we cannot s-stop you, but you'll find none in r-return."

"I only h-hope t-that those w-who listen t-to you w-will weigh my w-words and w-what we have d-done t-to help this c-city against t-the simple irrationality of your o-obviously i-inflamatory s-speech. Any w-who believe t-that g-giving the lord of Murder what he d-desires w-will stop senseless killing w-will eventually come t-to realize that a-anything t-that benifits that d-dark diety will only increase h-his influence... and t-the st-tronger his influence is... the m-more murder and suffering this w-world will come to know."

Abby's finishes speaking to the dark figure, and instead turns to address the crowd.

"Ilmater is t-the lord of healing and mercy... Bhaal is the lord of murder and death. I know you h-have suffered... I know you are angry... but it is f-for you t-to decide where you w-will place your hope. Will you c-choose healing and mercy? Or w-will you t-throw your lot in w-with murder and d-death. As one gets s-stronger, s-so to d-do t-the fruits of his influence multiply. What would you l-like to see more of in t-this sad world, during t-these dark days?"

She lets the words hang, then turns and goes back into the Sanctuary to continue her work. She hopes to herself that the countless numbers of people who h-have been healed and helped by the sanctuary over the years will come to show their support before the Dark Messah manages to twist those whose will has been weakened by suffering towards hate.

[Knightmare]

The "Dark Messiah" stands still and listens to the words of the healer, well-knowing that anything she utters might be used against her and her comrades. As she finishes and closes the door to the temple, the crowd looks to him again, awaiting his reaction. A cold chuckle can be hear from underneath the hood, and the dark figure open his arms to symbolically include all those around him.

"I ask thee all, have you ever heard admitting to failure put in such a manipulative and condescending manner? Everything she claims me to be doing, she just did herself. Oh, the hypocracy which flows from behind those walls. But comrades, I know you will not be swayed and decieved by such nonsense. The fact of the matter is that they are failing and they are playing you all for fools!"

The dark-hooded figure starts to pace back and forth while addressing the crowd.

"The very person who is accountable for all your sufferings, and all the emotional agony that you have to endure, she is suddenly gone. I ask you this, is that not just a little too "convenient"? And then the rest of the riffraff in there decides to blame everything on her, the one who has gone "missing". You see, they won't admit to failure and so they blame it all on someone else to save their own worthless hides. So much for good intensions and honorable conduct!"

He stops and pauses for a moment, then points at the temple's doors.

"I am sure that if Ilmatar was in there himself, he would have a thing or two to say. When will they adhere to the oath of matyrdom they have taken? Should the person who can put a rest to all this malevolence not come forth and sacrifice himself for the greater good? To take upon him the sufferings of you people, to endure the pain that you feel? That is what Ilmatar preaches, but none of those simpletons adhere to that creed. Thus their words are as false as their true intentions, are they not?

He walks up to the temple door himself and turns to face the crowd.

"I will guarantee you, my good people, that the person you all seek is in there behind these walls, in flesh and blood, and if not, some one in there knows where to find him!"