Church of Ilmater RP

[Ashenie]

The dark night still cloaked Baldur's Gate in a shroud of silence as the escort arrived at the Orphanage. The wounds recently inflicted by the Abyss and the poison of the Crimson Spice had festered into unshakable nightmares : scars etched into the minds of the city's orphans and survivors, afflictions affecting body and mind that endeavors might heal, but memory would not soon forget. Quietly and diligently, Sister Ashenie had devoted herself to their care tirelessly, her efforts beyond any form of measure when they touched children. With the unvaluable help of the Order of the Radiant Heart, of the Commons, of the Thieves' Guild, and the Triadic Churches, as well as various adventurers and city organizations, the children in the street had been offered slavation, wether directly within Ilmatari Care, or beyond. The willingness to help anchored in Baldur's Gate, and the countless efforts to prevent harm from poisoning children's lives made it difficult to understand how darkness could take so much hold in the city, when so many were involved and ready to give everyting to help. "Years of blessings", surely, as the Ilmatari are said to say. However, this had never tarnished the efforts to help and prevent more harm from happening.

These tireless researches about childcare and healing, had, as the rumor says, reached other Ilmatari throughout Faerûn. In distant Damara, a land ravaged by suffering, where King Gareth Dragonsbane had recently ascended the throne, a cult to Orcus, the Abyssal Lord of the Undead, had brought untold despair, leaving behind open wounds affecting children and expectant mothers. It is said that Sister Ashenie was chosen by Mother Juna to assist them, as the country recovers from the darkness and madness of the Lower Planes,entrusting her to bring the light of Ilmater’s mercy to that shattered land. Yet, Baldur’s Gate would not be left without her tender endeavors and Mother Juna ensured that her mission of care would endure, even in her absence.

In the cold embrace of the night, soldiers, Ilmatari paladins, and squires of the Radiant Heart gathered to help prepare the departure. Many of the children, clinging to Sister Ashenie with the innocent desperation of those who had suffered far too much, could not bear the thought of losing her. The bonds they had formed were unbreakable, woven from shared pain and healing entwined with her motherly, tender care for each of them. Though the prospect of a departure could be bittersweet, the chance for continued care in a quieter land, away from the constant reminders of their suffering, was seen as a blessing. Baldur’s Gate, with its scarred streets and stained memories, had imprinted itself deeply upon these children : its pain embedded in every cobblestone they had walked upon. To leave was perhaps an act of mercy, a final kindness to spare them from the ghosts of their past.

Diligently, the quiet Sister prepared her endeavor with renewed care. The End’s Rest, a renowned college for healers in Damara, had sent an Ilmatari paladin to guide her and the children to safety. For in the hearts of the Ilmatari, there burned an unyielding resolve to heal the world, to mend its wounds, and to bear the pain of others as their god, Ilmater, so tirelessly did for all who hurt, no matter who they are.

[Genuinely Spurious]

The dark night still cloaked Baldur's Gate in a shroud of silence as the escort arrived at the Orphanage. The wounds recently inflicted by the Abyss and the poison of the Crimson Spice had festered into unshakable nightmares : scars etched into the minds of the city's orphans and survivors, afflictions affecting body and mind that endeavors might heal, but memory would not soon forget. Quietly and diligently, Sister Ashenie had devoted herself to their care tirelessly, her efforts beyond any form of measure when they touched children. With the unvaluable help of the Order of the Radiant Heart, of the Commons, of the Thieves' Guild, and the Triadic Churches, as well as various adventurers and city organizations, the children in the street had been offered slavation, wether directly within Ilmatari Care, or beyond. The willingness to help anchored in Baldur's Gate, and the countless efforts to prevent harm from poisoning children's lives made it difficult to understand how darkness could take so much hold in the city, when so many were involved and ready to give everyting to help. "Years of blessings", surely, as the Ilmatari are said to say. However, this had never tarnished the efforts to help and prevent more harm from happening.

These tireless researches about childcare and healing, had, as the rumor says, reached other Ilmatari throughout Faerûn. In distant Damara, a land ravaged by suffering, where King Gareth Dragonsbane had recently ascended the throne, a cult to Orcus, the Abyssal Lord of the Undead, had brought untold despair, leaving behind open wounds affecting children and expectant mothers. It is said that Sister Ashenie was chosen by Mother Juna to assist them, as the country recovers from the darkness and madness of the Lower Planes,entrusting her to bring the light of Ilmater’s mercy to that shattered land. Yet, Baldur’s Gate would not be left without her tender endeavors and Mother Juna ensured that her mission of care would endure, even in her absence.

In the cold embrace of the night, soldiers, Ilmatari paladins, and squires of the Radiant Heart gathered to help prepare the departure. Many of the children, clinging to Sister Ashenie with the innocent desperation of those who had suffered far too much, could not bear the thought of losing her. The bonds they had formed were unbreakable, woven from shared pain and healing entwined with her motherly, tender care for each of them. Though the prospect of a departure could be bittersweet, the chance for continued care in a quieter land, away from the constant reminders of their suffering, was seen as a blessing. Baldur’s Gate, with its scarred streets and stained memories, had imprinted itself deeply upon these children : its pain embedded in every cobblestone they had walked upon. To leave was perhaps an act of mercy, a final kindness to spare them from the ghosts of their past.

Diligently, the quiet Sister prepared her endeavor with renewed care. The End’s Rest, a renowned college for healers in Damara, had sent an Ilmatari paladin to guide her and the children to safety. For in the hearts of the Ilmatari, there burned an unyielding resolve to heal the world, to mend its wounds, and to bear the pain of others as their god, Ilmater, so tirelessly did for all who hurt, no matter who they are.

Just then, there was a soft rustling outside, the faint sound of footsteps on cobblestones that interrupted the quiet stillness of the night. At first, she thought it might have been one of the soldiers or squires returning, but when the figure emerged from the shadows into the glow of the lanterns, her breath caught in her throat.

It was Declan.

He stood tall, his armored figure outlined against the dim light of the street. The familiar helm of the Triadic gleamed faintly, and his expression—though ever-stoic—held a softness, a quiet strength that had always brought her comfort. In his left hand, he carried a lantern, its warm light cutting through the darkness. He stepped forward, his gaze meeting hers, and in that moment, the weight of everything she had been holding on to—the worry, the fatigue, the sorrow—seemed to ease, if only a little.

“Sister,” Declan greeted, his voice low but steady. “I came to offer my protection along your journey.”

Ashenie blinked, her eyes misting with surprise and gratitude. “Ser Declan,” she whispered, her voice gentle but full of emotion. “You... you didn’t have to—”

“I couldn’t let you leave without an escort,” he interrupted softly, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not when you’ve done so much for this city, for these children.”

Sister Ashenie stepped toward him, her hands folded in front of her as she composed herself. “The children...” She glanced back at the little ones, many of whom had fallen into a restless sleep despite the night’s preparations. “They are afraid. They’ve already lost so much. I can’t bear to think of them feeling abandoned.”

Declan nodded, understanding the weight of her words. He had seen the toll the city’s darkness had taken on its most vulnerable, had witnessed firsthand the endless compassion that Sister Ashenie had offered to all who sought her care. And now, as she prepared to leave, he knew she carried the burden of those children with her.

“You’re not abandoning them,” Declan said gently, stepping closer. “You’re giving them a chance at a better life, away from the memories of this place. They’ll be safe in Damara, with you watching over them.”

Ashenie smiled weakly, her gaze drifting to the children once more. “I only hope I can offer them what they need.”

“You’ve done more than anyone else ever could,” Declan replied, his voice filled with quiet admiration. “And they know it. They’ll carry your kindness with them, no matter where they go.”

The Sister looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. “I never thought I would find myself saying goodbye to this place,” she admitted. “But perhaps Ilmater’s will guides me elsewhere.”

“Ilmater's will guides us all,” Declan said, and there was something in his tone—something resolute, a faith that had been forged in the fires of hardship. “And it is your faith, your devotion, that has brought light to those in the darkest places.”

For a moment, the two stood in silence, the air between them heavy with unspoken words of gratitude. Then, with a slight incline of his head, Declan turned his attention back to the soldiers and squires gathered nearby.

“I’ll walk with you all along your path,” he said. “To see you safely to your destination.”

Sister Ashenie bowed her head in thanks, her heart lighter knowing that Declan would be by their side. She moved back toward the children, offering them one last comforting smile before she turned to gather her belongings.

As the preparations neared completion, Declan remained vigilant, his eyes scanning the street, ever watchful for any threat that might arise in the dead of night. But for now, the city was quiet, and as he stood guard, the warmth of the lantern he held seemed to burn a little brighter—its light a reflection of the faith that had always guided him.

And as they set off into the cold night, with Declan leading the way, Sister Ashenie felt a sense of peace settle over her. She knew that, no matter where the road took her, she would carry with her the strength of those who had stood beside her, protecting her and the children she so deeply cherished.

[Saenei]

*Laei would show up to assist the temple as she some times does. However, before starting her tasks that Laei normally does, Laei would first go into the chapel and say the following prayer*

Our Martyred Father, whose fatherly care reacheth to the uttermost parts: We humbly ask thee graciously to behold and bless those whom we cherish, now absent from us. Defend them from all dangers of the soul and body; grant that they draw nearer to you, bound by your love in union of your purpose, and in fellowship of thy faithful; through our Rack-Broken Lord, Let it be so.

*Afterward Laei would remain for a short while contemplating, before departing to do the tasks Laei sometimes does for the temple. When assisting Sister Karen, Laei wound mention her sadness at Sister Ashenie's departure.*

[Winterborne]

The Guardian could be found in silent reflection most days in the chapel. Something in his countenance has changed.

[ShadowFox13]

Some have been aware, for a number of weeks now, of a new volunteer in the Shrine of the Suffering; a tiefling girl barely into her adulthood, by the name of Carys. She's thrown herself into whatever chore she is given without a mew of complaint, happy to help and assist as best as she's able. She's made quite great strides in the infirmary, keeping it clean, organized, and stocked with medicines and herbal preparations, clean bandages and new linens for the beds, clean tools for the surgery. Certainly the more personable, between herself and Sister Rachel, and she tends to have a pleasant, warm and even cheerful bedside manner for those who come in.

More and more often though, she is also found in the Sanctuary itself, offering prayers to Ilmater and the saints, with her rosary clasped between her small hands. They are not the prayers of anyone practiced, nor do they grant her any measure of power - just the words of someone seeking peace in faith, a devout layman. However, she's been seen with one of Brother Ameris' books in her hands, and has purportedly read the Living Saint's accounts of the conflict with the Cult of Bhaal. Sometimes she lingers outside the santuary, as if considering approaching the Revered Mother, but deciding against it at the last minute, returning to her work in the infirmary....

[ShadowFox13]

Something seemed to have sparked more courage in her, as she did manage to approach the Revered Mother Juna for a short conversation, but whatever the result of that is yet to be determined....


Still Carys continues her work at the Shrine with a smile on her lips, though occasional nervous glances can be cast toward the sanctuary and the shrines within.

[ShadowFox13]

After almost tripping over it, Carys collects and leaves a donation of the following with Nathan Goldemane, found on the steps outside the Shrine of The Suffering.

- A bouquet of lavender, sunflower, poppy, rose, angelica and violets
- a box of chocolate
- a collection of gems including malachite, demantoid garnet, tsavorite garnet, diamond, and alexandrite

[Afendaria]

Two frosty individuals would visit the Shrine of Ilmater in Baldur's Gate on the 13th day of Hammer in 1361 DR. The first was an elven Ice Mage hailing from Candlekeep while the second was an armored servant of Auril who was acting as the first's bodyguard and travel companion. The Frost Mage had come all the way from Candlekeep claiming that she had brought two professionally commissioned paintings for The Guardian known as Nathan Goldenmane. The paintings were wrapped and left to volunteer Carys. The Ice Mage insisted that Nathan must be the first person to view the paintings when unwrapped.



The two cold travelers would then stay to donate money to the shrine, chat awhile, and then tidy up one of the shrine's messy bookshelves. Eventually, after the Ice Mage had downed a single cup of tea in record timing, the two wintry figures would leave and journey off again, heading down south.

Unbeknownst to those within the shrine that day the portraits left behind were in fact part of an ongoing inside joke targeting Nathan and involving a certain Solaris Cult, an infamous Aurilite known for her unhealthy love obsession over Goldenmane. The Frost Mage Celestia had determined that today it would be Nathan that would be the unfortunate target of her sense of humor.


When unwrapped, the professionally painted portraits depicting Nathan Goldenmane would have surely appeared to look like something as followed (Celestia clearly did not remember if Nathan had a moustache or not, so had whoever she commissioned leave one on him, just in case):

Hidden: show

///// Ai generated art provided by the player behind Celestia through discord. /////

[Winterborne]

The kitchen fires in the temple seem warmer and more welcoming than usual today. Perhaps some new kindling was added.

[ShadowFox13]

Since speaking to the Revered Mother, Carys has gone about her duties at the Shrine, just as before. No task is too small, and she has taken to duties both inside and outside, including minding the garden, fetching water, helping Sister Karin in the kitchen and helping those who live in the homes just behind the Temple, in addition to all her work in the infirmary.

https://prnt.sc/rXhHW9U8J2W_
https://prnt.sc/rIgfsllkk7pY
https://prnt.sc/iGImvsmZtt6K
https://prnt.sc/3bs1o5YfRtkB

[ShadowFox13]

Returning from a trip out to Triel, to visit friends, Carys steps back into the Shrine of the Suffering, as snow blankets the streets softly, muffling sounds and giving lights that are lit a softer glow. Warm greetings are shared with Brother Khalso as she recounts a meeting out in the frontier village of Ser Edmond Arwitt, of the Golden Cup, passing on greetings and well wishes.

Eventually, her feet would turn her to the sanctuary and the Revered Mother, sharing further details of the plans of Ser Gavin Arkalis and Lord Alexander Marshall to raise a Temple to the Triad in the village, with Ser Edmond heading those of The Martyred One's faith, alongside their Chaplain, a Miss Catherine.

"It's still in the very early stages...and quite a dangerous posting, I'm told. I did offer to perhaps, deliver supplies or messages... I hope that's not overstepping." The tiefling girl would mention, earnest and hopeful as ever, though with concern for those frontier folk. "I don't intend to leave here, but... surely if others of the faith are interested, we could spread word?"

Whatever the answer, she returns to her duties, happy to return to the infirmary and the familiar faces of patients, neighbors, and other supplicants and faithful.

[ShadowFox13]

Carys delivers a donation to the Orphanage from Jeren, Torch of Kossuth, and Calae, to Revered Mother Juna - a total of ten thousand gold, and a Wand of Cure Moderate Wounds.

[ShadowFox13]

More donations pour in, as the winter weather gets worse - 200,000 total in coin, from two generous donators, presented to Mother Juna, for the aid of those less fortunate.

Carys would suggest focusing on warm blankets, firewood, food and perhaps thatching they can provide for others to repair or insulate homes that are lacking. She would also looks to place notices around asking for donations of herbs such as thyme, sage, ginger, plantian, amburworth and others for the making of treatments against pneumonia, or frostbite.

[ShadowFox13]

Another donation is passed along - a wand of Cure Serious Wounds, this time, and twenty thousand coin, from the elf Lia'vella.

[ShadowFox13]

7 Alturiak, 1361 DR

As Carys comes into the Shrine for another day in the life of a Novice, she's joined by Elduril, at least for morning prayers, bright and early as dawn's light peeks into the sanctuary. Throughout the day, it's a busy one of various duties - mixing medicines, stacking donated cords of firewood for the needy to take as needed, fetching water, and doing rounds in the areas around the Temple for those caught out in the winter weather.

Carys finishes her rounds ensuring the sewer grate is closed and secured, and that the graves have been swept and tended - visiting Father Marcus and Billy's grave - sir William, in death - and thinking deeply on the words of Saint Merielle's accounts. She is joined by Elisia, and the Kelemvorite helps to teach her the process of preparing the bodies for burial, with soft and patient instruction, only briefly interrupted by a series of visitors to the Ossuary, including a squire, a redhead, and Layla, who swiftly left due to the smell of the dead.

As she ascends the ladder of the Ossurary for nightly prayers, she passes along to Mother Juna a donation of 500,000 gold, given by Nathaniel Collins of the Order of the Silver Rose, as well as takes time to talk with the older woman about the passing of her /own/ mother - looking for solace in the teachings of Ilmater, despite the circumstances around her mother's death.