A Soldiers Field Manual for Atonement

[mastajabba]

I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen it’s brutality, it’s futility, it’s stupidity…

Not long ago I was a young Captain, In charge of perhaps the greatest group of people I will ever meet. They where magnificent soldiers, smart, disciplined … well when in combat and more important Loyal to the Company and to each other.

It was on a day like today here in Baldur’s Gate over a thousand miles away from Brost, Tethyr where I gave one final mission to the Warhounds Mercenary Company. It was the day that forever changed my life. It was the last day I looked at this beautiful world of us with two eyes. This is the day that I damned my soul and the day that I did the only decent and good thing during my involvement in the Tethyrian Civil War.

But to whom ever reads this journal, for you to see how I Captain Damon Clayton, of the Warhounds Mercenary Company an Outlaw and War Criminal reached the turning point in my life. I will start from the beginning and I hope that Imalter and you come to judge me as a man, by my actions and my heart and soul. Not by the stories of the infamous Tethyrian Captain known as the Son of the Warlord Red Warren Clayton, the butcher of Brost.

[mastajabba]

I am tired and sick of war. It’s glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired an arrow nor heard the groans of the wounded who cry out loud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is Hell

13th of Eleint 1347
Just outside of Brost, Tethyr

We are up early, the sun sits just bellow the horizon. I lay awake in my bed. It’s comfortable and I do not want to wake up. King Alemander IV is dead, betrayed by his Grand General Sharborneth and the Crown Prince Alemander V who also perished in the inferno that took Castle Tethyr. Once the seat of power in Tethyr now a burning graveyard to Royals, Nobles, Revolting peasants, loyal soldiers and of course the ordinary people who got caught in their wake.

Father is up already shouting orders. Men are gearing up and watches are doubled. Tethyr should be mourning but instead Tethyr is gearing up like an insatiable vampy for myth. Seeking the blood of anyone with a blood or oath to the recently departed royal family or anyone with a claim to that damn chair in that ash and blood stained rubble that used to be a castle.

It’s Eleint and the Ten Black Days have begun… I have never been much of a religious man. But I sure hope the gods are with us now.

[mastajabba]

Never think that war, no matter how necessary, nor how justified, is not a crime

Tethyr is on fire and no one could save us from ourselves. It’s strange what greed and bitterness will make foolish people do. Yesterday’s vassals are today’s executioners. Long obligations thrown aside as if yesterday’s stale bread. Markets are closed as chaos engulfs provinces. Loyalist forces and the revolutionary forces fight it out as good people cower in their homes as their lives are torn apart by two rabid dogs.

I am walking down the street I can’t see the cobble stones. Ash and debris cover the road. The stench of smoldering fires, gore and human waste hits as hard as an Dwarve’s warhammer. I remove my helm, it’s suffocating and I can hear men shouting. I see my father bellowing out commands and our men moving like hyenas finishing off the wounded. A final mercy for those in the hell of our own creation.

I do not know how many fell here, there are no armies to muster and hold attendance. It’s just scampering groups of scavengers chasing after the remains of the Tethyrian Crown. I look at my armor stained with the blood and gore of my kinsmen. Men I knew from my province, men that I probably meet at harvest festivals or religious celebrations. Men who went from kinsmen to enemies.

I look around and we won but there are no cheers there isn’t any jovial bragging. All I see men coming to the realization that we are in hell.

[mastajabba]

It is well that war is so terrible, otherwise we might grow fond of it…

Sometimes I still dream of the times before everything well to hell. Just riding on my horse going about Brost with my men. Collecting taxes occasionally having to put down a gang of brigands. Men riding in clean uniforms and good posture. Eyes searching every fallen log or tree for a potential ambush. Those where good days. Where we knew were we stood in this world. There was order and we stood watch on that edge keeping civilization going. The Count took care of his people, and the people prospered and the Count prospered.

Some other times, I dream of the war. The chaos and lawlessness, of groups of men ralling under banners of nobles who sought the high chair, to mercenaries whose motivations are swelling their coffers in the bloody gold coin of Tethyr.

These are the worst of them because in my dreams. I do not have polite words nor the wisdom that I have learned from Imater. The words of the Broken God have not reached my heart yet. I am young and I have a taste for the worst of drugs. That sweet venom that fills you with excitement but poisons your soul. These dreams terrify me because I realize that I really love war. The true test of men and skill. I willfully give myself over to the chaos and the violence. I am not a good man.

[mastajabba]

The two most powerful warriors are… Patience and Time

5 Marpennoth
Ilmateri Temple, East Gate District Baldur’s Gate

It’s been a while since I sat down and reflected. With so many changes I guess ones tends to get swept up in it all. My journey towards redemption goes well, I am starting to become comfortable with the man I am. I am starting to take pride in the man I see reflected in the mirror. I started this journey as a lost hurt soul. And I am now finding myself easing some of the suffering of those around me.

I was at first conflicted with myself. I am a warrior, I will always be. I tried to put away the sword and the armor. Cast them aside as if I could ever cast off my sins and dark deeds as if there where a robe. With the council of Sister Ashenie, caretaker of the Ilmateri I can now embrace that in order to end suffering sometimes you must be ready to fight and die for that cause.

Ilmater is love and through him I can finally love myself and my fellow beings. I must be specially watchful not to fall into the perils of my Tethyrian pride. I must try to make enemies into friends. That is the best way to defeat one’s enemies is to turn them into friends.

But those who cause harm and suffering who refuse the salvation offered by Ilmater must be put down for the greater good. And that is what we Holy Warriors of Suffering must do. I must be stronger to bear the load of others. To take their suffering. So that when Tethyr is ready I can aid in the healing process.

I have made a few friends here in Baldur’s Gate. The Ganzfried sisters, the strange armored sorcerer Morick, Star Summershine, Rain the Bardress, My Ilmateri brother Nathan Goldenmane and others. So I am not alone and my work is bringing forth the path of Ilmater and it’s work to the coast. For once I am looking forward to the next day and my work to bring the work of Ilmater to the Heartlands to hopefully start healing those wounds.