Never Again Forget - Saint Merielle Silene

[LeslieMS]

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Since it some how did not get copied when I copied the other 2 pages of the journal entry, there will be an addendum post at the start of tomorrow's entry.

Sorry to Selah, Ian, Adam and of course to Exodus, that it got left out. It was a fun little event, and made for a ton of rp afterward. But since it has not been published yet... if the three of you would like the personal details of the memories left out, just post yea or nay here before I put it up.

Once I have the okay from the three of you, and the entry for today written up I will post... Thought I had already asked, but that is what I get for not sleeping for two days. Maybe my brain was doing me a favor when I didn't select it all...

I am continually... continually amazed by how many of you have really made Meri grow. So many people, good and bad guys, that totally have brought her to life. Sure, you guys give me credit for my writing skills, but stand completely reassured that I do not get all of the credit. It is blatantly plagiarized off of the awesome RP I get to take part it every time I am online. Seriously! You are all epic, from the staff to the players to the DMs... and it only gets better.

In the nearly 12 years I have played Meri [yes that long pnp and pc] the last Five months have been the best. The last month or so has been pretty close to awesome, even though I am stuck on Bed Rest. The journal posted here is a whopping 223 pages long with a word count of 158,308, for those that have asked and no that does not count tomorrow's post...

So: Ian, Selah, Adam... if you three wonders could get back to me about whether or not its cool to post details of your lives [from my point of view of course] and if anyone else could send along name corrections, and that sort of thing... I will see you all IG tomorrow =)

Thanks again everyone for the awesomeness. My due date is roughly six months away still so keep it up =) =P
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[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED AND THIRD ENTRY]

I sit here, and I am exhausted. Tired as I am… sleep will not find me. This victory which is ours. They are back, and for the most part, well. Both of them. I can hardly believe it. Mercy of Ilmater forgive me, I honestly thought we would not be so blessed. I am very grateful to you for this Mercy…

As I sat that morning in Beregost I was surprised to see a familiar shadow pass my way. I followed, and tentative plans were made and information exchanged in the usual hushed tones. I find this particular shadow full of surprises. How strange it must be for him to walk so many paths at once, and yet he manages. Though I pray it far less precarious than it appears. For whatever his reasons, his aid has proven invaluable. Still… He is no doubt not completely honest, but who in his boots would be?

Shortly thereafter, and with barely enough daylight for comfort, I made my way to Candlekeep. There was far too little time, and I feared that wasting what we had could spell death for Firavain and Fuller. Fortunately we didn’t have to waste time trying to figure out the combination to the portal. We had some items that were of the two, and we set to work. With his sharp eye and Joan’s steady hand, I directed the scrying. I knew at the start to be prepared. We already believed that they were deep in the abyss… and I still half suspected a trap or trick from our friend Harker.

I concentrated, half fearful of what I would see. Ilmater guided my sight and I found the glimpse of them. My eyes were not prepared for the throng of demonic servants. The Hosts of the Abyss gathered there. Amid the mass of flames and demon I caught a tinge of blue. My heart swelled in one moment, only to drop in the next. A large, and painfully familiar form stepped between my eye and the blue of a cloak.

I let my thoughts run… my control slipped. I felt the demon within twist dangerously, and suddenly my concentration was now fighting on two sides. Something became aware of my presence, and it pushed with a ferocity that my divided attentions could not hold ground to. I fought to close the opening, to break my mind from it. Now the one that held me sought to pull his fellows to us. I struggled to draw forth a prayer, but could do little more than give out a choked cry as I pushed from two sides. I fought to regain control of the one I held first. I knew if I lost the battle with he, then I would lose more than one battle in that fell swoop.

I pushed him down and locked him back away where he could do little harm and focused on breaking the link between the Abyss and I. I managed to pull my eyes from the scene before me as a demon pushed through the rift that was widening. Before my eyes left the depths of the Abyss and joined the battle where I stood, I met eyes with one I was not expecting to see. The Pet, and in his eyes met mine with all the murderous hatred the worst of foes could muster. In that brief moment, his eyes held a challenge:

Come. We have unfinished business you and I.

I mean to finish it. I thought.

Then my mind snapped to the Balor that faced us now. When we finished with him we stepped through the door that was left in the wake of my seeking. With far too little time to waste we stepped through. The sounds of heavy foot falls, the crackling of fires. The heat was hardly a bother for me… but that I felt it at all must have been unbearable for the other two. We pressed on, little more than our weapons to clear a path and our wits to keep us on our feet. We were but three, and they were many. Ilmater was with us, for they came in waves. He fell once, and there were many times I thought surely we would all be lost to their numbers.

We finally fought our way to the one named Fuller. I had never met the man, but I must say, given circumstance, he left quite an impression. I can see why the others were so eager to gain him back among their ranks. Still he said that we were only moments behind the one who had taken Firavain. So we pressed onward toward the summit of the mountain. It was a day when I wished I was a priestess. To call on Ilmater through prayer without the draining of my very essence. To worsen matters… the twisting of the one within was unsettling to say the very least. I did not however, sense the presence of his master…

When we reached the top Firavain stood, as did a demon near the edge of the cliff. I feared at first that the demon would push him over the edge, and make our efforts for naught. I tried desperately to concentrate, the toil of moving the energies of the Divine in such a place was more draining than normal. The battles themselves had been many, and while we emerged at the end of each wave still standing… it was taking its toll. Each of us suspected a trap. I was rather surprised Harker and his ilk, or the Drow did not emerge to drag me away now that I was drained and exhausted. They very well could have, but again Mercy smiled on us.

As we were to turn with Firavain to leave, and make our way down the mountain to our exit… I paused. I turned on the elf and concentrated. Unsuspecting, there was no warning, and I had little trouble reaching to the truth of it. There was a backlash of negative energies that nearly knocked me from the Abyss, it hit so hard. That I was so drained already it was a wonder it did not kill me. The illusion dispelled, the elf was gone, and in his place the Balor. This masquerader, now forced to let go of his falsity. He was far from pleased. One last battle… and we fought.

The battle gave us an amulet bound up with a bit of his cloak… doubtless the means to secure the image we saw. I touched the fabric. I begged mercy show us where he was hidden. Worry crept into my thoughts. I could sense him… but we could not see him… he was Near…Very near, and so faint for one so close I truly feared for him. He lay there, badly battered and unconscious among the rocks. I bandaged the wounds, worked through the worst of them that I could see. I could sense Joan’s own tumultuous emotions as she worried and fussed for us. I could sense the worry even in his voice… though he played it off as any man would, especially one of his back ground. I was surprised nonetheless by his worry at all. It is a rare trait among them… and yet I had seen it often enough. Still, each time, it surprised me. I wonder what story of the past had touched them both, but now was hardly the time for musings.

I used what little energy remained within me to restore him, and placed some smelling salts beneath his nose. I could not help but smile as he woke. I wish I could say I remembered the friendly banter that took place as we made our way down the mountain… But I was so exhausted, the could have carried me down and I would not have known it. We stepped through the tear, and I willed it closed behind us. The others fell exhausted around us as I broke the circles of runes and tucked the rock back in my pocket. After all… saving it once had come in handy.

I had meant to seek out Ian, tell him the tale and make my way to Baldur’s Gate, to the temple for some much needed rest, but I only made it as far as the rocks just outside the gate of the keep. The story telling would have to wait though. The troublesome woman who seems to enjoy little more than to see how far she can push others. I cannot say for sure the order of events but at some point my mind registered a few notable moments. I was so tired…

Ian threw a woman from the cause way for attacking him, the guards threatened to kill the troublemaker and throw her off to the sea as well. Somewhere, unfortunately there was talk of nakedness that led to a naked orc… One detail fortunately I did not get a look at. Thank the small Mercies I had the strength to turn my head, and save my mind that torment.

There was also a rather kindly elf. He came bearing the body of one who had attacked him on the Tradeway… He had not meant to slay him, and I was rather surprised in the end of it when the odd pair made peace. And Elf and an Orc-blooded. Stranger things have happened, but the simple Mercy of such an act renewed much of what I had lost in the fight with the demons. He also saw fit to make a sizeable donation to the temple. Seems he is the cousin of Sir Wyndsoul, who I have met previously. Had mischief not conspired to cut our conversation short I would have enjoyed speaking with him further.

Soon things calmed to some measure, and I finally relented to letting Ian walk me back to the temple. It was a fairly quiet walk, that or I hardly remember it… who can say. It was good to be back to the temple after being away so long. Sister Abby had been most worried of me… Likely as worried for me as I had been for she and the temple. We talked a great while. It was the first time she and I had had to speak at any length. It is clear we were each taught differently, and the differences are fascinating. In the end of it we are both simply servants of Ilmater. We can learn much from each other I think.

It was some time later when I found my way to a bed. I slept briefly, but even exhaustion could not hold the nightmares at bay. The shadows of the past… they may be pushed back by the light… but always they wait… always. If ever I am to find my peace… I must end them. I must destroy it. I must stop those who would oppose Mercy and the Hand of the Lord of the Wrack. Mercy to those who need it. Swift and Merciful death to those who would withhold it. Mercy will prevail, for we stand unwavering. Keep your hand at my back… Let me not falter. In the end, there is always mercy… Mercy waits as surely as the shadows, and Mercy will stand long after they have been burned away by the light of hope.
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[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED AND FOURTH ENTRY]

I realized as the day passed on that I had gone far too long without actual sleep, and the strain of the last few days was almost crushing. I had tried so hard to sleep. Rachel’s tea… Lots of it. Every herb, every trick, everything… and none of it has helped. I meditated enough to keep me sane, and managed a few small naps. Still I would wake before the sand had fallen completely through the hour glass. By the afternoon, I could barely find the strength to stand. I could not concentrate. I knew what was coming… Exhaustion… to the point of illness. If I could not managed rest soon I would be ill, and badly. It had been nearly a tenday. Anything of marginal effort left me feeling weak to the point of nearly loosing consciousness. There was a couple of times I may well have done just that.

Still the day managed well enough within functions. The shaky hands and paleness went largely unnoticed. When it was brought up, I was able to reassure those who asked. Until face to face with the annoyingly observant Rai. The circumstances that brought us to that point weren’t pleasant or entirely known to me. Still, I was asked to mend her wounds. I was disappointed, though not surprised when she shirked my aid and shrank away from me. Still, I bore her no ill.

To whatever end, and I pray it is a good one, she went her way. Someday, perhaps the kindness I offer will not be met with such distrust… maybe some day she can find a lighter path. At least by the time our paths went separate ways that day, she understood I was not her enemy and wished her no ill intent. It was genuine concern as she told me to seek a healer. Though I imagine, as she left she already knew my problem, after all this was something that had happened twice before. As dear as can be said for one such as she… I know now that she made sure I got a good nap.

When I went to the inn to rest for the night, Ian was kind enough to get tea. Unbeknownst to he Rai had been a step ahead. She had arranged for some tea, a blend whose secret she has yet to give me, to be made to remedy my lack of sleep. I was too tired to realize that Ian returned with two pots of tea. I also failed to notice that my tea came from one pot and his from another. I drained the first cup, and passed the resulting drowsiness to lack of sleep. As I finished the second cup, and could fully feel the effects, I knew better. I smiled as I curled up on the couch at the inn. I don’t remember much after that until I woke.

Sleep… not long, but long enough. Ian seemed pleasantly amused by the trick, as did Winthrop. I wish she would tell me what she does to the tea leaves… She has to soak them in a sleeping draught or something before she dries them, or uses an herb I am unfamiliar with. Regardless it does the trick, and has saved me thrice now. These days now more than ever before, I need to remain alert and able. There is no dreaming from it, and the rest is so complete. I would fear to drink of it when not in the company of those able to stand watch. Sneaky girl… at least she means well. She has so much potential if she would ever realize that she is not so lost a cause as she think… All things in time. I am a patient woman.

Mister Fuller was up and about as well. He seems well recovered and in good spirits. I was most pleased to see him as such. Firavain’s recovery is not nearly so swift, but while still abed, he is recovering. I fear though, despite my best efforts, that there will be some lingering effects. It is something I would like to see Harker pay recompense for, but it is not my place to ensure such on the behalf of another. Harker’s arrogance and treachery will be called to answer. I pray for his sake he has a good reply when his soul stands prepared for judgments to pass.

The silence is becoming more troublesome in my mind. Not knowing what enemies are where, or having some clue as to how to defend against them because I have no knowledge, or scant little, of their actions or intentions. Sometimes the quiet hides things. Like watching eyes or listening ears. For every foe that falls, every hidden, watchful enemy that is rousted… I wonder how many remain unseen.

How did I end up in all this mess? I could blame a thousand things, blame a thousand choices over the years… It all boils down to a choice I didn’t even make nearly twelve years ago… Events from my birth to that moment of providence when all those moments were lost to me. What choices did I make, what other choices were made for me that led me to that point? Time reveals all things… but some things it keeps hidden for a long time. I have always done the best I can, made the choices I thought would best suit the ends I hope to meet. This is the result of others whose choices are meant to meet their ends. I must endure, I must remain unwavering, no matter what troubles fall where… There is no other end but that of mercy.

We are not meant to understand everything, we are not meant to know everything, to see the whole of it. That is why we must trust in our faith, and choose careful our actions… sometimes one act, one lack of action… Sometimes they reverberate through the macrocosm for ages. It is our place to learn, to act and interact. Mercy guide my steps. The path is narrow, to waver is to fail. Mercy prevails. The path I walk, I must do so carefully, else all is for naught. Faith is strength, and these days… vital. In the end there is only mercy… I just need to stand long enough to see it all through. Ilmater keep your hand at my back lest I falter.
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[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTH ENTRY]

The day was peaceful save for a pair of unpleasant conversations. The first of these was with Ian. I had taken some time to look back through my journal, to look through my notes. I have spent the peaceful days here at the keep researching these prophecies Selah spoke of. I checked through my notes and my entries, looking for things that parallel between what I know and what is spoke of. The similarities are frightening in some places… But this time, that was not what troubled me.

A drawing, a sketch of a face. A face I neither remembered, or remembered drawing. It bore a name of a person I knew not… To further add to my confusion… there were entries, on things between this Alamin and Ian that I did not understand. Talk that Mona was dead, as was Cedi… Dead? But what of the family and the home… There was trouble with Cedi yes, but the wife and the daughter were both well. I tend to forget things… so I strive to keep detailed sketches of faces, detailed notes of events… To never again forget. Memories are precious, blessing or bane… the steps we have taken can guide the steps we will take. The discrepancies were glaring. So I spoke to Ian.

I wasn’t prepared for the anger it wrought. For a brief panicked moment I could see him throwing the whole journal over the cliff edge. He wanted me to destroy the sketch… As he spoke, I understood.

‘If you had a chance to go back and change anything… would you?’

While I would, yes as I am mortal, I would consider it. Could I say that even I had the strength to leave the past lay where it will? Could I? I do not know that I could, but I know at least, that we should. Things happen as they do for a purpose. We do not see the weavings of the multi-verse, the hands of fate that work and weave. It is not the place of man or woman to play god. We make mistakes in our mortal coils. It is our place to learn from them, not undo them.

I cannot claim to understand everything at work. Nor do I have all the answers. I know in my heart, and I stand by my faith, but that does not make me all knowing. I only see what Ilmater grants me, and what my eyes can behold. He has asked me to perform a true resurrection. I have only known one to do so successfully, and that is Sister Briar. She has long been in the Arms of Mercy, and while I hold knowledge of it, I could and would attempt it gladly for his sake… If it is Ilmater’s wish that I should offer this mercy to them… then I will do my best. For now I must seek his guidance on such a thing.

His anger waned… I bear him no ill for it. His heart is troubled. I have him the picture that I drew of Dianne and Billy playing together in the meadow. Sometimes… we must make choices that are not easy… sometimes others choose for us. He understood the message in the passing of the drawing from my hand to his. I pray mercy grant him strength to act as he must. This man without faith… May Mercy find him even if faith cannot. Let him see hope, let him know peace… if not in this life, then let Faith find him that he may know peace when his soul leaves behind the paths he walks now.

Our conversation was brought to a close by the Halfling that I aided previously, and the sudden arrival of Myhun. Now I have to worry over which topics he heard. Indeed we covered a great number. I pray the knowledge of the Soulkeep is not his to hold. He is first and foremost a mage, and sometimes… I wonder how much I can truly trust him. Always! Some eye watches, some ear listens, some mind plots and whether it is for me or against me I can not yet know. I fear. I fear the fate that waits for me as it is tied to the Soulkeep. I fear everyday as more strands are twisted into this web that threatens to suffocate and consume me. I must stand, in this as in all things, because it is my burden to bear. I pray those that do not wish to see its power unleashed outnumber those that wish to use it to their own ends. Mercy of Ilmater I cannot say I know who is who and to what intent. I fear because what I see troubles me… it is what I do not see that terrifies me. Mercy guide me, a misstep now could be most dire… gravely fatal for any number. The fates of many are tied to that cursed amulet. Grant me strength… and in this the will to endure…

I will need to speak with Myhun more further at a later time. My musings were halted by Sister Abby seeking me out. In her company was Mister Goodmane of the Weavemasters, and another I did not recognize but assumed was her guardian, as she is not permitted to fight by her own oaths. The subsequent conversations on Selah and how to remedy her plight went well. We have aid of the mages in this at least, though to what end I cannot say I understand. It was where the conversation led next that caught me off guard.

Always I have defended the principles of what I believe and what I was taught. Always have I stood by the truth of what I know, the strength of the faith I carry in my heart. Long have I suspected it would be a matter of time before a call to surrender in some manner or another would come, or if not that… a call for a death I am not bid to grant. I did not expect the words of Ilmater to be questioned by an Ilmatari… least of all this Sister who had the day before said to stand by my side in this… This night, we stood across a line drawn. I found myself defending my actions, the words of Ilmater. Implications that I was mad, that my dreams were false, but that hardly mattered. How could one who understands oaths ask me to surrender mine? If I fail in my oath to Ilmater… then how can I stand in the House of the Triad at all when my duty on Toril is completed?

Tough questions I had often asked myself… and struggled to answer. Doubt is poison to faith. Poison laced on words of others… and I fought to not give purchase to it. I stood. I spoke only truth, as best as I knew. I stood and justified as much as was mine to justify. To imply that the pain of the deaths of others for my cause has not touched my heart, hurt nearly as much as the pain the enemy has sought to inflict in these past few months. My heart breaks, my soul weeps, and now there is dissension in the church of the Crying God. How can we stand against our enemies if we cannot stand together?

I kept my temper in check until she began to speak as if it was Ilmater that called for blood. A wound that cut deep and drew anger in place of blood as steel blade would do. I fought to staunch it. How can this woman, who I understood was responsible for the founding of the temple… How can she question the very will of the God she is sworn to serve? I have faced less doubt from those of lesser faith… Less doubt from those who swear nothing to a God… even those who do not understand at least respect the hand of the Divine at work. How can she stand there and preach to me of oaths and of faith when hers is so easy to topple? If her words were meant not to be taken literally, well… one should not make light of faith… Ever. I bear her no ill, but I am disappointed that this woman I had heard so much of, could be so easily swayed by doubt. Who are we to question the will of the gods?!

I pray Ilmater, strengthen her faith. Open her eyes to what doubt has hidden from her. If we cannot stand together we will fall. Now I must worry for Billy’s safety, not only from without the temple… but from within? How can this be Ilmater? Have I not stood unwavering in my faith… unfaltering in my oaths. Am I now to stand at odds with those of our faith? I know the different temple vary in the teaching… but surely not so much so that we must stand toe to toe? Ilmater I beg your mercy and your strength… Give to me your guidance in this for I fear without it… I fear. Keep your hand at my back. I will not fail you. You call me Chosen, and I pray I may earn the mantle given me. I pray Ilmater that the ignorant may understand. Mercy prevails, there is no end but this!

My research will have to be continued from the temple as I can no longer leave Billy unattended. None are to move him from the temple or bring him to harm… and if for some reason I fall… the task Falls to Emrys, as he is the only other Billy trusts so implicitly. Joan came to find me after I left the inn. I could bear no further argument. Nothing else could be said, and the foolish are not easily rectified. Not wishing to lose my temper I left and sought a moment of peace. Brief stolen moments are all I will have until my time to rest on Mount Martyrdom comes I fear. I will not no peace as I walk this earthen land… I will endure, for such is my path, such is the way of things. Joan is loyal, as is Ian and Emrys. Firavain, when he recovers… Beyond that, tentative alliances easily swayed by doubt or ulterior motive. Perhaps it would be wise to move him to the Spire? I must seek guidance on this… I did not expect to have to defend our cause against others of our faith. This is no doubt a great boon to the enemy. There must be a way to rectify it. I must step carefully more than ever. With each passing day the trial becomes more toilsome. The path more narrow, the way more treacherous, and to fall to either side… from such lofty heights would be beyond fatal. Mercy of Ilmater, please stand with me my lord.
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[LeslieMS]

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I know this entry isn't as awesome as it could be, and I apologize. Adjusting to some RL circumstances has sort of messed me up a bit, not to mention this is written in the last hour [yeah I know only an hour] and the RP based on it was Thursday. I don't have the library of screenshots I normally keep. My sincerest apologies, especially to Unstable, for not giving an entry that touches on the Epic-awesomeness of the RP for that day.

Give me time. I promise I will be back up to steam =) In the mean time, thanks truly, you guys are awesome!
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[ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTH ENTRY]

Were it not for the wisdom of Brother Marcus, and the strength of my faith, I might not have withstood the last few days. Even at that… the weight of bitter words spurred by frustration… It was a blow I was very unprepared for to say the least. I was reminded just how precarious the situation really is. He still has not spoke with me. We are at Candlekeep at present. I dared not leave him at the temple with Brother Marcus and the Sisters in his state. It was a longer walk than normal, and blessedly without incident. I pray Ilmater grant him the strength to endure. The way he spoke that day… terrifies me. Mercy of Ilmater, help me guide him from the dangerous edge he walks upon.

Never before has he spoken as such. I don’t even know where he heard the swear words. He has been so happy. Its not ideal, by any means, but he seemed to enjoy his studies, the walks, the games with the other children… I don’t know where it came from. The hateful words, and the anger in him. I know he wants to fight them, but I have to keep him safe. Every time he gives his anger and his hate sway… it is one more foothold Bhaal gains. This can be won. It can be stopped. Ilmater himself said nothing was final until the ritual was completed. The ritual is not done. There is still hope that he can be released from it. He really will do well in the service of one of Ilmater’s noble orders.

Somehow a discussion on why senseless killing of even rats is unwise got more out of hand than I could have thought possible. Even as I saw the direction the conversation was taking, I could not curb it quickly enough to keep disaster at bay. Every word only made him more angry. To know the anger was a product of events beyond our control, to hear him speak as he did… My heart broke. Mercy of Ilmater! What I would not do for his sake. Grant him strength that when we reach the end of this path, he may stand stronger for it.

It is agonizing, especially when it is suggested I kill him. I could no sooner do that than I could surrender my soul to the Hosts of the Lower planes for my soul is not mine to give, any more than his. My oath is to keep him… and to keep him safe. They are blinded by lack of faith and lack of understanding. This burden we bear because it is ours and no other. I will not end him, I will not surrender him. I will not drop my oath to keep him well and safe. His anger over Dianne… I understand it, for I share his pain in it. As dear to him as any sister, as beloved as any daughter to my heart… It is hard not to grieve her, even knowing she rests with Ilmater. He is young and does not yet understand. His anger will pass in time, as Ilmater teaches him to let go of it, to move past it… All things mend in time. We need only the strength to endure and the will to see it so, the faith in our hearts to maintain the hope that will light the darkest hours. Mercy Prevails…

I am reminded even when the enemy’s servants are silent… He waits for our guard to drop. I must be ever watchful. I will see this wrong placed upon his soul by the Lord of Murder undone. Ilmater himself said nothing was final until the ritual is complete. Billy deserves the chance to see his dreams come to pass. To be the valiant hand in Mercy’s service as he hope. Even as the others ask me abandon the boy or my oath, I will stand unflinching. In the end things will come to pass as they should, and when the time to rest has come, I can rest knowing I held to my oaths, to my faith, to my god and to those I love… to my heart. I just wish that others could hold faith enough to see things as they are… there are so many sides in this… It can dangerously get out of hand.

As Billy played with Elrith I smiled sadly. I turned to the inn, giving Emrys and Adam a nod. I knew Billy was safe in Emrys’ care. I had come to Candlekeep with a purpose in mind. I sought answers. Unfortunately the subsequent conversation with Firavain raised more questions than it answered. This coupled with troubling news from other sources has me worried. Even locked away from sight and mind, the Soulkeep calls to many, promising darkly of a means to meet their ends… its corrupted power leeching away at common sense. I pray strength to see this thing destroyed… and in spite of the sufferings I have had to endure for it… I fear greater suffering to come. Give me the will to endure, to see the foul trinket undone once and for all.

I think for now we will stay at Candlekeep. Billy is safe here, and seems to be enjoying the change in environment. Besides… If things do go badly in this business with the Soulkeep… Billy can be kept absolutely safe until I can find my path back to them. Strengthen my heart Ilmater, shore up my soul, there is much to do. I will do all you ask of me, gladly, so long as you stand ever beside me as you have. Guide my steps on this dangerous path, grant me to endure as you have. In the end, mercy will prevail. There is no other end but this.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTH ENTRY]

The days have been too long measured by conversation. Since the painful one with Billy I have spent many conversations with the boy… that have been less than pleasant at best. I loathe the circumstances that have turned him from me… I speak against vengeance. I even explained to him how I too was wrought with anger, and how I had to let go of it. Let go of my anger, yes, gladly… ask me to let go of anything in my power to give up… Do not ask me to let go of him. I don’t have the strength… I know I don’t have the heart, to have come so far and asked to give up something so dear. Do not ask it of me, for I could not. Ilmater forgive me, and grant me an ending to this mess that my heart can accept. Please…

There has been much talk of Billy, some who think it best to simply kill him, others who wish to lead a head on assault, and many who look to me for questions I cannot answer. I am no tactician, no mistress of intrigues. I am a healer at worst, a simple diviner at best… a humble servant to a god and a purpose greater than myself, and at times, beyond my understanding.

The enemy too long silent for my comfort, has begun to stir from the dark places again. People are dying, and my heart breaks… oh how it breaks. Each death becomes more difficult, especially when I must look into the eyes of a mother who has lost a son or daughter to Bhaal’s foul machinations. Let someone else take Billy, they say. It cannot be done. Ilmater bid me keep him safe, and I must do so. If he has faith in my strength, then I must maintain my faith in him and remain strong. Besides… William has so little that is his… I do not wish him to feel abandoned, least of all now, even as he pushes me away. He will ever be dear to my heart, nothing can change that. He spends his days helping Winthrop in the inn, or in studies with myself… our conversations are not as cheerful as they have been in the past, but at least for now the boy still heeds the wisdom of those older than he. For now it is enough…

The first peals of thunder across the peaceful moments… the first trickles of rain… Even knowing all this time the storm looms, and preparing as best as I am able… I found myself struggling for footing on slippery ground. Even as the storm begins to break… I know the worst is still yet to come, I know, and I pray. I pray for I begin to feel that unbidden trickle of fear wrap itself about me. I shore up my faith, steel myself against the doubts of others that beats down as strong wind. Mercy of Ilmater with us all… May we be ready… May we endure.

If the business with the Bhaalists were but the beginning… as the days moved forward… more trouble came crashing down about us. Myhun spoke of veiled things, were they threats or warnings? Who can say with he. The demons surrounding Emrys, and now me… are at best a problem for his soul… Though I fear it is more than that. I fear they too are wrapped within this web that has woven itself about the Soulkeep. Emrys tells me not to worry over him. Ha! Allies are too few and far between, much less good and true friends I know I can count on… He could no sooner ask the sun to stop shinning in the day! I will not abandon him to a fate he has not earned. After all it was the power-hungry, madness of his parents that forced him to choose himself in his sister’s place. A great act of Mercy, to spare her such a fate… and it bore him much pain.

These, both servant and master, are fond of games, and torments as demons are… My want to help Emrys has garnered me their wrath for my interference. Indeed the Servant whispers his discontent, his anger, though now it is little more than a dull roar… a constant, throbbing headache. His presence is only truly a problem when I seek sleep. He enjoys dragging to the surface those memories which are the most painful, but even he is intrigued by the memories he cannot touch… Still after the conversation with Myhun, I am left to wonder what other freedoms he enjoys as I sleep? As if I needed more reasons to avoid the realm of my subconscious.

Still the keeper of the servant I hold… The Unbound one… He has been seen in connection with the Drow… with Baenund. I fear it is where she has found both the ability to renew the ranks of her children, and how they have gained the ability to summon Balors at will. It would also seem that the demons slowly attempt to steer the prey to the huntress… and I must be watchful. Had it not been for the stumbling upon the portal and its workings, I fear the outcome. Firavain has cautioned me to destroy the stones… and while I do not doubt that I should, I am weary of locking a door and throwing away the key… especially if it may be my only escape from darker corners.

Darker corners… Can I now, after so many years say I do not fear the darkness? That blinding, black that draws away light as surely as death seeks to draw away breath? But is it the darkness that gives me pause… or the knowledge of what waits within? Gather up your blessings to you Meri dear, gather the blessings and the hopes, gather them all, for if you must again walk the darkened paths fraught with pains unnumbered… They will guide you as surely as your faith will let you endure it. I stood… I stood against the dark and the pain once before. I do not wish to do so again, but I think they will find me even less receptive than I was nearly five years ago. I was a simpering girl then, I had no faith to sustain me, and I still survived. I drank up every bit of hope and light, no matter how fleeting they were. Even in that place I knew hope… and now it is my lamplight. Still… If I need not walk the darkness… I will not miss it.

Speaking of simpering… That noble whelp François is staying at the keep, and drawing some interesting attention. I was reminded today of a deep unexplained fear I had long forgotten… For all the cruelties of the Drow that came after… Even if I cannot remember all the details, my heart knows there is no greater threat than the Thayan. Today… I was reminded of the source of so many troubles, and was caught off guard by the depth and ferocity of the fear that ran through me. Though as the Red Wizard stood at the gates of the Keep, and was later joined by others seeking François, my biggest fears were yet to come.

I was scant aware of the passages of conversation. For a moment I was not Sister Merielle Williams of Ilmater, but the frightened youngling, barely yet a woman ducking behind a counter to avoid a burst of magic… Flashes of memory that overcame reason… Flickers of something long forgotten, twists of pain and fear that even the Drow could not touch. Strange though… as my mind sought a familiar face… Something stood out on the two that stood further back. The robes of the newer arrivals didn’t seem genuine… and two of them had hair. At the time my eyes took in those facts, and my mind filed them for later as I fought to claw away from these fears I had forgotten. These torments buried deeply beneath Drow inflicted agonies, scars of wounds long covered by lash of whip and burning coals. The ones seeking François rang false… but the other… He did not. Eventually I fled into the perceived safety of the keep.

I made my way to the inn intent on tea, only to find Joan in conversation with François about his literary tastes. It had apparently garnered the attention of the monks, and the disgusting slip of a man was well on his way to wearing out his welcome. The conversation took a turn onto the subject of Red Wizards, and why his father would be seeking him with the aid of such people. His answer was of a book given to a P’tak… a person Selah is said to know of… and both of whom I have many questions for on the topic of this book now. At first I was merely an observer to a conversation… until a name was spoken. A name long since forgotten.

I remembered seeing it in a note from a shadow… but had not made the connection between the name written on the paper and the assault of memories that found me at its utterance.

‘… Some book, old, first edition too… looked hand-written Arim’s or Ahrimann’s …’

That name… Arhimann… it echoed through my mind and drown out all else. I stood in the slaver stockade, a harsh, boney hand grasping my chin and tilting my head up to his eyes. Little did I know that hand was more bone beneath the glove than I thought… Little did I know that it truly was cold, calculation of one allured to death that looked down on me in that moment.

‘Yes this one will do.’

‘Another one Arhimann? Not that I would turn away your business sir… You are my most lucrative client. One cannot help but wonder what the fascination is for this one? Not nearly so strong as the others… A pretty plaything perhaps? She does clean up nicely…’

‘Quiet you blithering idiot and take the bloody gold!’

To see the guard cower so at the command in his voice, frightened me then, but it was far better than seeing the familiar glimmer of what usually lurked in his eye… I did not know in that moment what waited for me, had I known… I wonder if I would have gladly stayed with the pig of a noble that was so -fond- of company. I certainly would not have cut off his hand and ran had I known there were worse things. Indeed… there were worse things.

Though even then they did not come readily to mind. Bits of memory that did not make sense ran through my mind.

‘Don’t scream too loudly girl. It will exhaust your meager supply of air. I don’t want to bring you back from the dead again…’

Less coherent memories and images, less words and more sensation. Burning pain from a heat so intense I could not draw breath, a chill so deep it would draw shivers from the Gelugon Baatezu.

‘Come now… Don’t pass out yet… you aren’t even halfway there! You have to be stronger than that if you intend to outlive your predecessors. Don’t tell me I wasted -more- gold! Useless thing!’

Scathing insults that drove me on… a will to not fall because at the end rest was promised… Rest… And the thoughts jumble into a whirl of pain. To seek to follow the memory further results in a blinding headache… I know for the Matron bid me try… the Illithid dug deep… and few things could leave me so in pain and so weak… but never did they find what they sought. The wizard was too clever… his binding stronger than the Matron. She called on so many wizards to try and undo it, all the while cursing the assassin who had killed what they now knew was the means to get to the location of the door. The door to which I was the key… to the place where the Soulkeep lay hidden.

This book… if it survived the fire, it can only be one of a few he kept so well warded. I fear if it is indeed hand-written, it is not the ones he drew his information from… but rather the one he put his personal notes in. That kind of knowledge could be most dangerous indeed. These nobles of Joan’s past… How on Toril did they get it in the first place? The son said the father never could read it, never could crack the wards, which is a blessing so long as the book remains sealed, for I fear the details that could be revealed. Such as the fate of his soul, the methods of ’preparation’ used, or more detailed things such as how to use the -key- to retrieve the Soulkeep from its hiding place. At least I can rest in the knowledge that so long as my mind remains locked it remains out of reach. So long as we get the book first… and its secrets remain unknown… perhaps it can be destroyed? Am I simply seeking to delay the inevitable?

‘You have done well girl. I am impressed… Your mind is the map, you are the key. And now I must be sure you will keep it safe and not seek to undermine my authority…’

I remember that cold, cruel gleam in his eyes… and that moment of fear as I struggled to recover from the onslaught of the final test, barely alive as I scrambled my last reserves of strength in some useless attempt to move beyond his reach… Then nothing… No moment of clear thought until a day or two before the Drow arrived. How mad his search for immortality had made him. Madness I prayed I would never behold again… Madness that I saw in Matron Mother Dilvyll Baenund, and a madness I fear I will see in many others still yet.

Yet more still that have been bound to the fate of the Soulkeep. It is true when they say one cannot outrun the past… that things hidden do not stay hidden forever. Time indeed reveals all things… I pray the will to see this through… to see all these things to their end, and I pray in doing so, not see my end before I have a chance to enjoy the peace it has granted me. Mercy will prevail, there is no other end but this. Still I cannot help but be wary of all the steps between now and then… Mercy of Ilmater be with me. Mercy to those who have need of it… I pray… there is mercy enough for even me…
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTH ENTRY]

I have come to understand something of late. The peace I am granted in my days, in this life… While I have no choice but to take them as they are, they do not come without cost. Every measure of peace will in turn exact a toll. The quiet calm, must be used to prepare for the inevitable trial that will come. I was also reminded that nothing is as it seems. Seldom can things be taken at face value. Nothing is random chance, no coincidences for myself. My path is guided by Ilmater’s hand, and I am bound to fates of others in ways I do not yet fully understand. Perhaps time will reveal the mysteries of it while I draw breath, but perhaps not… I must choose wisely, my steps as always. Peace will find me, in the end… Be it the end of this life or not.

The day started much as any other. I woke, had things prepared for Billy and I. I try to gently mend the damage to his heart. I weep… Dianne’s loss was great, a deep and scathing pain… and it is this loss, and foul hatred which slowly turns Billy from me now. I struggle against it, refuse to give it up. My prayers are earnest, and I know they have not gone unheard. There are moments when the anger falls away… and I see in his eyes, that precious thing I so treasure. Patience, diligence and in the end, it will be set right. The boy will not remain so plagued.

They have all been so kind here in our stay. He is safe here, and has some measure more of freedom than he does within the confines of the city. The guards and monks are vigilant, and I didn’t even ask it of them. I imagine Joan and the others had something to do with that. He does not leave the Keep with any but myself. We can take pleasant walks, and never leave the sightlines of the Keep itself. One of his favorite things to do is learn of the different medicinal properties of the plants and herbs. He takes an unsettling interest in poisons and antidotes, but I am careful in my teachings and my words. He has also taken a fancy to the many books. He enjoys learning, and cares not of what, he only wishes to learn. Yes, being here has done him a fair bit of good, and he is gradually becoming less angry with me. At the very least there have been no painful outbursts like that day at the temple.

I seek to hurry and finish my gift for him. The pillow will have a valiant knight on one side and the Ilmatari symbol on the other, when I stuff it I will add calming herbs to it. It is nearly done. Something for me to do, and something to remind him of his goal to serve one of Ilmater’s knightly orders. As the morning turned to early afternoon, I sought some time to order my own thoughts. It isn’t often that I find any solitude for myself, and it isn’t often that I enjoy it. So often it is dangerous, and even when it is safe, sometimes time with my thoughts is not wise.

This would be a day for both, for I found my thoughts troubled. And trouble, as always… found me. Though it was not readily apparent. As I spied a figure approach the camp fire, at first I did not know what to make of him. I chided myself for being so suspicious of folks as he started to make polite conversation. His was a tale of woe. Loss of loved and dear ones at sea. Suspicion soon gave way to compassion. In the back of my mind, I thought of the trip to Amn. While I cannot say that the conversation would not have taken a sour turn had Noric not shown up when he did… I can say that the only difference between the end of the conversation without him there would have been that only one of us would have such a terrible headache.

Noric, by nature, hostile at worst, distant at best, and this fellow who stood before us. His words were sharp and pointed… Tore through careful defenses and were remarkably too personal for comfort. I began to suspect that he was not what he seemed to be… That compassion quickly replaced by the knowledge that once again I stood before some unnamed danger. Time reveals all things, and in this case was swift to reveal the man of Elvish descent to be an Alhoon in disguise.

I have only seen one of these things before. When the Matron sought the Illithid to unlock my mind, it garnered the attention of a rather powerful one… who had turned to lich-dom. It was nearly her undoing. She lost many warriors. As the creature toyed on their fears and doubts, fed from the negative emotion in which there was plenty. I was surrendered to the creature. The Matron’s will to live surpassing her will for power. I remember very little of that time. Cold, and the blinding headaches. Being too weak to even understand the depth of pain as the mind is sundered and pieced together again… Eventually the Matron returned for her prize, and the phylactery of the thing was found, and it was destroyed.

I woke unsure of how long I had been unconscious, my body so weakened I could barely raise my head from the grass. Noric was close by and very badly wounded… Most of my energy spent in the fighting, I summoned what I could to make him whole. I was confused… but Mercy had smiled on me in a manner of speaking. Noric wanted to know why it sought my mind. He believed that I was sought specifically. Seeing as I was alone when it started out that is hardly a stretch. I thought at first the Drow, or some other force seeking the Soulkeep. Still… my memories were in tact… aside from the normal effects of such psionics, the hidden places remained undisturbed. No. This one did not seek the Soulkeep. I was willing at that point to leave it to some random attack by an obscure beast. Rare as they are, they are all but unheard of on the surface.

I made my way to the inn, intent on rest. What I intend, and what actually comes to pass, can be very different indeed. Polly was out of her cage and wandering down about the first floor of the inn. For that to happen it would mean that someone was in my room. Fearing another assassin or some fool with less than honorable intent… A problem spurred by the rumors begun by Tessian’s Father… I made my way up the stairs and to my room. The sheet had been removed from the mirror. I find mirrors still rather unnerving… and the scene that greeted me now was troubling at best. There were runes drawn on the floor about the mirror. A scroll and a pile of skulls. Polly’s cage had been deliberately opened. Noric says the intent of the whole set up was to see the thoughts of whoever looked into the mirror. Me.

Polly was speaking more than usual. As the events unfolded I began to suspect that Ronwin was somehow involved. Perhaps a means to find more fuel to keep Tessian and I separate. It also became readily apparent that there was more to this little parrot than met the eye. She seemed to be guiding… warning us even. In fact at one point, when I was slighted by a particularly foul Halfling, well something happened I could not readily explain, but Polly seemed responsible. Insane I know. Had the others not shared my thought I would have though myself falling into madness. No doubt there are those who will very much question my sanity. Lack of rest, combined with the attack and the stress of so much time, well I was frazzled to say the very least.

Joan, Noric and I got separated in the search for copies of ourselves that were seen leaving Candlekeep. I will be honest. The events between the first attack and the second attack are fuzzy. I remember walking the woods, in the dark… and ending up at a worn down old house. It was an unsettling place. There were two others there. The woman I had met some time earlier… Katie? No it was something more exotic. What did the brash one call her? Mistress Kadri? Kadri! That was it I think. The over suspicious guard of hers, far too quick to put someone to the end of the blade. His suspicious and over-violent tendencies, troubling at best. The two were too busy suspecting us of some foulness to heed my warnings

Before there was much time to act, the Alhoon attacked again. It was a fierce battle. I was still badly weakened from earlier. I watched as Joan fell. I blacked out as I reached her. I remember nothing until we all woke with splitting headaches. How we came to be at the bookstore in Baldur’s Gate, is a mystery time has yet to reveal. While the others headaches would fade after some rest, I knew I would not be so fortunate. The familiar sensation that the runes had been disturbed lingered. My whole body screamed in pain. The jumbled of thoughts that resulted. The thing may have become aware of them after the first attack, perhaps intrigued by them at the second attack… but that I could remember anything at all meant that the beast cared little for the secret locked within.

By the time the others had recovered enough to see to my health, I had brought myself above the pain. Still there, still as intense, but as the years have taught me to deal with pain, and my faith has given me the strength to endure through it, if they noticed… They said nothing. The evening passed in conversation. There was some trouble with the gnomish fellow violating the dreams of the others which I missed because I was trying to explain away what is revealed when I am not careful with my words. As the evening wore on, thoughts not clouded by pain or the wine I consumed were trickling back.

Joan asking if I had ever actually been that way. The way that illusion of me had been, without hope… without strength. When I saw myself no more human than a broom, and no less a tool to another. Hard to believe that was nearly five years ago… That in the eleven years I can remember, only five of them, have I been my own creature, though I have willingly been a servant of the Crying Lord… I will not allow myself to again be bound against my will. I will see this business with the Bhaalists through to its end. I will see the Soulkeep destroyed. I will see Tessian given the choice of his path, I will see the Matron stopped… I will see peace… in some measure before I rest finally in the halls of Ilmater atop Mount Martyrdom. Mercy will prevail. I will endure, such is my path, such is the way of things. There is no end but this.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED AND NINETH ENTRY]

If I didn’t hate mirrors before, I hate them especially now. I have never been fond of them, less so after my involvement with Bah’lhal. Less so now. The day had been quiet. First sign of trouble. I had willed the headache to little more than a dull throb at the fringes of my senses. So long as I moved slowly, I managed to keep my fatigue to myself. I had gone up stairs to rest a bit. If ever there was a time where I could sleep for more than an hour or two without disaster or nightmare to draw me from my meager rest… Well, a full night’s rest? Nearly as much a dream as quiet without the insidiousness of looming storms. Ah but what are we in life without the want to improve… Lofty dreams suspended on fragile hopes… Fortunately my hopes are strengthened with faith. I am content that is enough for now. To wait… All the moments, blessing or bane, shall one day lead to peace…

For now I have to deal with arrogant -Nobles- like Ronwin Silene. Noble? Ha! The only thing Noble about that swine is his lust for gold and power. And speaking of power what sort of parlor trick allowed him to speak through the blasted mirror? How much can his words be accepted as truth? He practically invited me for tea. Recommended the Seasprite. Said he wanted the trip to be as comfortable as possible. All of which worries me greatly. Said I would discover the truth soon enough about what had happened to Mathylda, his wife, Tessian’s mother. He speaks of life as if it were little more than a thing others hold at his bidding… As if the world and all in it were little more than a collection of tools to use and discard as he sees fit. Tools to use for little more than gaining power and material means. Gods forbid that man -ever- finds out about the Soulkeep… There are enough power hungry, blood thirsty madmen and women at my heels.

He must be stopped… but how? If he truly has been granted noble titles… it will be difficult. Unless perhaps whatever has been done to Tessian and his mother can be brought to light… and enough other foul bits drawn from the darkness to prove solid. Killing him would be far too risky. There are enough people in Amn who wish me dead. Fortunately, they are of such ill repute they would not be so foolish to try. At the same time, I must be careful to keep myself and all I do on the right sides of the law so that if ever words are to be weighted… I stand a better chance.

Of course it wasn’t long before my solitude was to be further interrupted. Things went downhill from there. Nosy people with no respect to closed doors or a woman’s bedchambers. At least of course Ian had the graces to knock, and wait to be invited, as did Noric. Of course aside from some orcs and an unpleasant noble fond of tricks and banter, leastwise there was no unsavory types popping from the wardrobes. Sometimes I wonder if I ever should have left Trademeet. No turning back now… I must see these paths through to the end.

There is of course the question of the bird Polly. Where did she come from. How can she understand common and cast spells. Definitely no normal bird for certain. Noric suspects her a trick of Ronwin’s. As much as I would like to discount it all completely and think for once I have an ally and not another enemy… he might be right. Still there is a chance that he could be wrong too. There is also a chance that I have lost my mind, that one day I will wake and no longer know who I am again, or how I got to where I am at that moment. Is there a way to err on the side of caution… from both sides?

Giving up on sleep after Noric dispelled the trick in the mirror, and after sitting in quiet meditation for a bit, I wandered about Candlekeep with the moon high above me. I chatted with Joan briefly and Emrys. I also had a conversation with the Tormite Aethor… He said there is someone posing as Billy’s grandfather, and offering a large sum of gold and trinkets for Billy to be liberated from the Ilmatari. Grand. Not only do they call for blood… My Blood, even Billy’s blood… my surrender… that we bloody well hand the realms over to Bhaal… Now the Ilmatari are cruel jailors and heartless advocates of the suffering of the populace. In a time when we cannot afford to waver, when we have no allies to spare…

Ilmater… So long as you do not turn from me my lord, I will endure, my oaths will stand… I will not waver, I will not forsake all we have worked so far for. I don’t know what to do, I fear to step. I pray your guidance. I am doing the best I can. Open their eyes… turn away their doubts, and strengthen the hearts of all that we may stand, a force to be reckoned with when the time for battle comes. May we stand united in the purpose of halting Bhaal and his faithful. Mercy to them all, for those who cannot understand, who cannot see past doubt, who haven’t the faith… may the enemy not be allowed to further corrupt the hearts of the good people with doubt and grief. Mercy Prevails. There is no end but this.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED-TENTH ENTRY]

I spent the days keeping track of conversations… information, there were many and much… I should have written sooner, but this headache is still blinding. It makes thoughts difficult, it makes writing more so. Damnable wizards! It isn’t the wizards… not all of them. I shouldn’t say that. Still they are blasted trouble… most of the ones I know.

Judging from the conversations I have had about Abby, Billy, the Bhaalists, and with the few I have spoken to… I need to talk to Sister Abby soon. The news I hear from the temple troubles me deeply. The enemy poisons the most kind of things, the most kind of words… and needles in doubts. We cannot afford to lose more allies. We must be united, all of us in our common goal. And Sister Abby and I should be united in our faith. We should not let doubt and anger cloud the lines between us, not if we are to stand against so much. There are calls for blood. I would rather it be of Bhaal’s faithful. Let them meet swift, merciful death. Because the alternative is mine and Billy’s… and if it comes to that… the people will pay in more blood than they have already among them. The argument is that Ilmater would not hold me to a promise that puts others in danger. What they fail to see is that by standing in this oath, and not giving in… I am sparing more bloodshed than I am allowing to spill. That is not to say that I think it right that they suffer, it is not to diminish their pain. I have suffered with them, bled along side them… But I only seek to protect them. Let loose the Lord of Murder on the realms and so very many will die… so very many.

I have nightmares, the ground littered with dead… the rivers run red… screams and sufferings. What would come to pass if I fail? More frightening are the twisted nightmares my mind spins where Billy is taken… Yes these are far worse than any fear that keeps me awake in the small hours of the night. Where the result is only death. How I long for peace… for guidance… For this headache to pass!! I cannot think clearly like this. I have dispatched a messenger to the temple. Trustworthy man, and his eyes and his ears shall provide valuable insight. I have sent with him more supplies. I have also made arrangements for shipment of food. Perhaps my mind will ease when I speak with Sister Abby? I pray it so.

There was a fellow that came to the inn, called me by name. Wore Ilmater’s symbol, spoke of his teachings. Indeed he seemed genuine enough, but his voice and he refused to show his face. Adam worries of Baenund spies… and Ian and Joan know something but have yet to explain it to me. The Ilmatari, well he was rather adamant about keeping his helmet on. My questions at the start of our conversation… He seemed hurt by my lack of trust, said events had left me quite jaded… Truthfully, I cannot argue with him in this. I am not so quick to trust these days. I view all with at least some measure of suspicion. I jump at strange noises… I look distrustfully to the shadows. Ilmater be with me, I fear at this rate I -will- lose my mind. Already I hear whispered rumors that other fear my sanity slipping. I feel rather quite sane. Perhaps a bit over-zealous at times, but sane. After all, we fight wars, wars for souls. Of course the pain and the suffering weights my thoughts! I would question myself if it did not. I will see this through. Bhaal will fail, his touch on the region will pass, the souls he has taken will be reclaimed. I will see to that.

It is safe to say I am no longer some naïve girl. I still have much to learn… indeed… but I will not hand my trust to the first ones that reach for it… not any longer… not ever again. I can not afford such carelessness. Not after speaking with Wythran and Phillip. The Drow are afoot. There are spies everywhere. Phillip has his secrets, and they have left him in a dangerous place. I pray he may walk from it, and stay safe… His Amnish friend… A Baenund spy? Do’ana maybe? Or some dark shadow I am unaware of? Regardless… the fiend is exposed, and I will be mindful of my steps. After an exchange of sorts, where the more dangerous details remain hidden… the one who hates the Drow so, is aware that they hunt me actively. He gave me … a message… to deliver. I sincerely pray I do not get the chance… though if the worst does come to pass, I will give them the message… gladly. He is a sour sort of elf, and I want to help him, but perhaps there is yet time to do so. In the meantime… an ally of sorts. These days those that are aligned against the same foe, is as good as it gets… but with this one… there is more I have yet to understand. Much more I fear… like that ring.

There was what at first appeared to be a quarrel between two men vying for the same woman today too. Jade Redford, the former groundskeeper for the keep, and present Fist member, was apparently rather involved with Joan. And was none to happy to hear she has moved on, that her heart now lay in Firavain’s… and then things got more complicated. It seems Myhun had sent Jade to check up on Firavain… and that Myhun was more aware of the shadows within than I thought. There were some rather dangerous threats tossed about.

Firavain and I later exchanged words, and it was a surprisingly personal conversation. By the time he had bid me not to follow my thoughts and act on his behalf, my mind was already made up. I would not stand by and see two people I cared for get hurt because of a power play. By a wizard no less. To top it all off… if not for Firavain’s -information- I might already be lost to the Drow… and I fear that without him, I would remain lost if not for one accustomed to walking the Spidersilk… Yes by the time he went to rest my mind was made up…

However, paralleled to the shouting match between the two over rights and wrongs and Joan, a crowd had gathered. Not to act as spectators. No there was another form of trouble. Elrith brought Erwin… or well… what remains Erwin. Asking, begging my help. Still when I looked this time, it was no Balor I saw, but Shar herself. Fortunately I was cautious. I garnered only a nose bleed, and a marginally worse headache than normal. The chill of the Goddess did not even phase me. As if I need to stand in opposition of another God. Still, I cannot turn on Elrith. I know well I cannot save her alone… and It is Elrith’s love that keeps the woman from teetering into darkness. No, after talking with the Tormite Jonas, it will take much to reclaim the Elven woman from the darkness, but it can be done. It can be mended. That much I am sure of. I should like to speak to Jonas more, and learn more of such things though. Our conversation was cut short however.

Noric. I wish he would have allowed himself a second chance of sorts… or at least more of one than he gave himself. I know his past was riddled with foulness, necromancy and death… At least he tried. His passing already had mixed feelings from others. Thomas was grieved in his own way. He had lost a friend and a man he respected. Jonas, who had lost much… a wife and child as I have learned at Noric’s hands… well it was hard to say what went through his mind as he looked on the body of what was once a man… Needless to say, I could see in his eyes, pain of a different sort, perhaps even conflict. My thoughts were those of a Servant of Mercy. He deserved a second chance. He did the best he could with it, even if he felt he did not. In the end, he sought the mercy of death… and I pray Mercy finds him in such… perhaps it can be said he found some measure of peace.

The letter he left for Abby and I, and the Sisters, those of the temple… It was bitter and resigned. Had I not been so distracted when he came through drinking strong drink and going on about the bird…

‘Tea doesn’t keep you from thinking’

He had said, he was troubled… And I was too exhausted and blind to it to talk him from his path. Though it seems his mind was made up long before I was aware the path he tread. I will do my best to honor his wishes, and pray he forgives me where my faith does not allow such compliance. He will have a proper burial. I have already seen to arrangements. His body blessed and cleansed, and it is my prayer that he can learn to forgive himself in the existence his soul now walks.

Not long after, sometime as the evening was turning well into night, Myhun got my message. I could hear Firavain chiding me in the back of my mind. Still I spoke as I must. I did not lie, but his questions were not so easy to dance around this time. He wants to see the runes, he wants me to let Selah look at them, better those I trust or trust more than the Drow and the Thayans… I pray. If this amulet that has plagued me for so long can be found and destroyed… I would gladly suffer whatever was asked of me just to finally be free of it. To hope… For freedom, to seek peace… I often say I live on Faith, Hope and Tea… A few good friends… there is more truth in that than I care to admit to. Still, someday I will find what I seek. Mercy will prevail, there is no end but this. I will have to be patient to see what shall come of all this talking.

For now if I do not seek rest I shall live to regret it… and I prefer living without regrets. Besides, the pain in my head is close to being above what I can bear. And I swear the parchment shifts… Mercy of Ilmater be with me. Come what may, so long as I stay strong in my faith, I will endure.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED-ELEVENTH ENTRY]

I truly do not know what else to try. She still insists I am being mislead. We talked for hours. We still stand at odds. She says because I serve the god above the principle that I can be mislead. Does she not see? She did say that she would do as she felt she should, even if it went against a command… because she serves the principle of the ideal. She insists that sending Billy away would stop the killing. She is a fool. When I tell her that the killing would continue, her reply is the death would not be on my shoulders any longer. What in the name of all that is Mercy does it matter whose shoulders bear the blame?! People are dying and everyone is more content to point fingers and argue fundamentals rather than garner a large enough group to safely confront the problem head on.

I grow weary of politicking and debates. I was given a task to complete, and I will. We will stop the Bhaalists. She is so wrapped up in what -ifs- that she fails to see what -is-. What if the visions are false? Does she stop to consider that they are not? She is so busy trying to sway me from my task that it boggles me. This woman, this Ilmatari. She is working harder to do the enemy’s work than they have. To instill doubt in my mind and my heart. To turn me from my path. Even though her intentions are good. She is doing the very thing she accuses me of. She thinks I am in fact unwittingly being used for ill by the Bhaalists. That they revel in the suffering and strife they cause, that I should slay myself as a martyr and hand Billy of to the strongest protectors I know. And what she wants me to do I cannot. I will not. She may be content to disobey our lord, but I will not. Do not waver. Do not falter. And I will not!

It saddens me greatly that she sees fit to work, effectually, against me on this. That even beneath Mercy’s banner we stand on opposite sides. Not only must I worry now for the actions of the Bhaalists, but now that the populace is stirred against us by the Bhaalist actions… That can spurn them to act. I pray not. Ilmater, I pray not. She insists my visions and all I stand on is false, and I fear she can sway those of lesser resolve, which can only add to the foes I must face. It makes rallying others to move against the Bhaalists difficult. We have precious few allies as it stands, and doubt eats away at them. What am I to do? Had she her way Billy would be lost, and I possibly dead, the Bhaalists would then continue to kill, if not more so and why? Because she refused to accept that not all walk the same path? Do they not see there is no other choice? Do they not see now we must be united and move as one against the enemies of Mercy and all that is good?

Ilmater may not condone violence, but sometimes we are called to defend, sometimes there is no other way. Do not strike first, do not place between you and your foe the impartiality of a weapon. Know why you fight and fight with cause. Act as the teachings of Ilmater, go with an open hand… and when those who withhold mercy cannot see reason as it is… Act swiftly, with closed hand if need be, not out of anger, not out of enjoyment, but out of need. When there is no other way, offer swift merciful end to the fighting… and only when one must.

Never have I broken my oaths, never have I struck first, never have I broken a promise. I do not intend to now. Ilmater be with me. Grant me your wisdom and your guidance, if you may… if it is even my place to ask… Open her eyes to that which we must do, show them the path we must walk. Show me… Guide my steps, now more than ever I cannot afford misstep. Now more than ever we must seek to work together. Perhaps there can be a way to reveal the visions true? Some sort of divination? Truth spells? Any way to assuage her doubt and halt the separation between us. I know in her eyes, and the eyes of many, that I have become little more than a blasphemous harlot… I will not fail you Ilmater. Mercy will prevail. I will step carefully, I will keep him safe. I will do my very best, and I pray that enough. After all that so many have sacrificed… do not let me fail them… do not let me fail Billy… Be with me, and grant me your strength.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONE HUNDRED-TWELTH ENTRY]

What is it like to step without fear? To not have to guard every action, every word, every thought? What is it like to not fear shadows, not fear what is unseen? To not fear whispers in the darkness? If I ever knew, the memory of it is lost to me… Peace will find me some day, that much I am sure of. True peace… not moments of uneasy quiet, stolen moments of sleep, found only when there is no strength to fight it further.

I wish Tessian were here with some amusing bit of wit. I pray that Mercy keeps him… That his ‘father’ does not suffocate every bit of goodness in him. The more I think about it the more I wonder how it is even possible that such a dear sort can come from the same bloodline as that … that … -man- if he can even be called a man! What sort of man poisons his wife, curses his son and has not one shred of regard for the lives he stands upon? No man of any merit.

One mystery has been resolved of sorts. Polly. The odd little bird that repeats, casts spells, can understand our speech and has thus far, warned me from danger, and even protected my honor… odd yes? Odd perhaps, but not unnatural. She is apparently a fey creature. As best as I understand… a pixie or such, but a bird. I had no idea such a thing was possible. She isn’t intrinsically capable of evil. That much is a relief. The mystery still persists how she found her way to us. Was she sent as a messenger with a warning, or an unwitting spy? Both perhaps? Even something yet unseen, something, from somewhere that I have yet to grasp?

All things in time I suppose. I just wish it could be sooner rather than later. Time reveals all things, and not a moment before it is ready to give up the secrets held. Patience… bids my heart, bids my faith. Sometimes that it is the hardest duty. To stay your hand and wait, hold your anger. Still, when one listens to that which is wiser than mortal wisdoms, and sees the vastness of things through eyes not clouded by mortality… One can be better guided when one is willing to follow.

Those better at such things are tasked with seeking aid, for the time of swords draws near. The time to put an end to Bhaal’s workings in the region is nearly upon us. I can sense it. I pray there are enough allied to our cause. While there very well may be, it never hurts to have more. Messengers are dispatched, and as before… Bhaal’s servants seek to undermine our efforts. More death at the hands of the enemy. More souls to reclaim. They will not remain lost to Bhaal. Mercy will find them all, and Mercy will keep them well. Mercy will prevail.

‘We will deal with the Bhaalists and the Drow, and then you can have your house in the middle of nowhere and tend your gardens Merielle.’

Joan’s words lent me much strength… Reminded me peace will find me. Oh how I could not stand so resolute if not for those that shore up my weakness. Ian, who just that morning helped me to battle my own doubts, and all those so dear who have helped me stand thus far. Even those who no longer stand at my side, and those who are now only with me in spirit. We stand, and we refuse to waver, we refuse to fall. They are unfailingly loyal, and I am eternally grateful. If not for the strength of my faith, what others call over-zealous, fanatical, blind… I would have fallen. Call it what they will, I will stand… and if my failings come to light, I know there are those who will see it through to the end with me. I know there are those who will be with me even past the end of it. I stand content in that for now. I wait. Patiently.

Her words, and several events remind me though that it is not just Bhaal I face. The Drow… And their spies. An unsavory type… first approaching Joan and I about some book. It looked most foul, and even if it was a holy relic of Ilmater, I doubt I would have purchased it from him. His very presence left me unsettled. He introduced himself as ‘a salesman of sorts…’ Later he was profiteering of the misfortunes of others, a fallen Elf to be precise. It drew contempt from me. Try as I might I can never understand the lust for coin and material possession. What good is something that does not serve the good of others? That cannot follow you to the places where souls dwell when the body finds rest?

He was then later in the inn, and apparently while we sat in conversation. Ian, Phillip and Adam and I were speaking of troubles and the dealings of them. It wasn’t until Ian said something that I was even aware that he was there. Not sure which was more unsettling, his very presence, the fact that he was taking notes on Billy and I, or the fact that he claimed said notes were in Undercommon. A Drow spy perhaps? Or merely some other power not yet known? There wasn’t much way to find out. After a rather tense situation, he threw a dart at Adam, to which, Ian quickly brought him down. He was tossed in jail, unfortunately the contents of the notes he took were smudged, but our names were present. Even worse still… he escaped. I made sure to inform those interested in such things of his actions. We will have to wait and see what comes of it. As if I haven’t enough enemies laying in wait.

Troubles of a similar sort found me later in the day as I sought to speak with Valerius. We were hardly into our conversation at all when a rather ill whisper sought my ear. The words themselves seemed innocuous enough to a casual listener perhaps… but I have grown all to used to veiled threats, especially whispered ones. Strange how a simple whisper can stop one cold. Or how simple words can carry so many weighted meanings. After running about the keep and returning to the inn only to find he had not actually gone far, likely coming back in when we had all left.

The Shadowed Trickster. Fiend that hides behind mind tricks and smiles. A Baenund spy no doubt, though he is careful to admit to nothing. He acts as though it is all some game. His mannerisms and nature both unnerving and irritating. Still without the means to see to the truth of it, and without cause to strike him, I can do little. Bound to oath, to never strike first… Ilmater forgive me. Sometimes my temper gets the best of me. It is wrong of me to ask cause to strike at my foes, but today I dared to. I understand now why Ilmater counseled me to such an oath. He knew in such, I would be greatly tested, my resolve, and my control, my wits and loyalty tested. Someday I hope to master the lesson behind it. To face my foes and not see my oath as a burden. To not give into anger sway, even though the oath remains unbroken, the true lesson is to let go of my anger.

Regardless of what he is or who he serves, his secrets will not remain his indefinitely. The Soulkeep will be destroyed, and my fate will no longer be so bound to it. No longer will they have cause to seek me, for indeed, those that do not die for trying to reclaim me, or lay claim to the amulet… will be too weak to be a threat. What was it he had said? The Spider will fall… Indeed. Without need of me to gain the cursed amulet, I will merely be another slave that escaped, another thorn best left alone, or another enemy they must seek to death. Enough of them fall, and they will stop wasting resources. I am no longer the weak girl that I was then… Faith has strengthened me, time has lent me wisdom. I think she will be disappointed that her favorite play thing is more resolute, and much more stingy with those precious cries she valued so much.

Someday I will see that promise kept. That promise made to the heart of another who held me so safe and so dear. I will see the Lolthite Witch dead. And in that, may his soul, tormented and stricken, torn between what he is and what he strove to be… He may find rest.

In the end there is only Mercy, mercy to those who have need of it, mercy of swift death to those who would withhold it, the mercy of forgiveness, renewal… In the End there is only Mercy… Mercy that prevails, for there is no end but this.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED-THIRTEENTH ENTRY]

The uneasy peace of the days, punctuated by tense conversations, sometimes though, the unease is not in what is seen but what is unseen. What is known, but still unfamiliar… There are lessons to be had, something to learn from everything, and everyone whose path crosses our own. ‘Cherish that which was, for it shapes what is. Treasure what is, for it shapes what is yet to come. Look to what is to come with a hopeful heart, that the lessons of what was and is, that it will be… is not lost on you.’

I remember those words that Iliara spoke as she helped me bind the fragments of the past to so many pages. The hours she spent working with me to reclaim some of those memories I thought lost to me, through careful meditations. Not all of it was good… in fact some days, very little of it was. The smaller books bound in with the fragmented pages, and while some pages were lost, the lessons of them were not. ‘One cannot appreciate the light without knowing the darkness…’ There is so much truth in that, and every day I see it illustrated in the myriad of paths and people I see each day. Each one of them, their own story, in their own right. I wonder if they realize the lessons they hold, for themselves? I wonder if they see the lessons they hold for my eyes? Things happen with purpose, and it should be that we should ever strive to learn.

Sometimes that purpose is shrouded, or the intent of actions long ago takes many years to come to realization. Sometimes the lesson is short, sometimes the lesson is lost for years, or lay dormant until some new bit clarifies what we could not see. Such is the nature of things. To teach as to learn, to live and to grow. To walk the path before us. The faces of those that walk those paths with us for a time may change, but the lessons remain. We endure, we grow, we learn, and in the end we find our peace at the end of our paths. It would seem some paths too short, but so long as the memory is honored and the lesson learned, it is not without purpose fulfilled. In the end there is only Mercy. So long as one takes strength in faith, lets hope light the path… in the end Mercy prevails.
~~

I gathered herbs today. It was peaceful. Rather than worry over it too much, I chose to make good use of it. I showed Billy how to make healing tonics for various ailments. When studies came to a close it was barely afternoon. His anger toward me has quelled greatly. With careful patience, things are restored more to what they should be. We went to the beach for a time. He laughed. Such a gift… a genuine laugh from this dear boy who struggles beneath so much weight. As the day began to fall away from us we returned to the keep. He had gifted me a handful of lovely shells he had found. I showed him how to turn them into a necklace, which I now very proudly wear. He rested peacefully shortly thereafter.

I noticed something in the quiet peace of the day and in the stillness of the night… the dull throb I had grown so accustomed to is gone. As is the presence of the demon within. I am unsure how or what it means but the very ties of the creature seems gone. Gone too is his dark whispers of doubt and fear. I do not understand it, but pray whatever circumstance brought me this small mercy did not do so at a grave cost to another. I will speak with Emrys soon. Perhaps he has some inkling of what could have happened. For now I am content in a peaceful night’s rest. Wonder if the dreams will be less troubling as well?
~~

Something strange happened Just now. It had been a pleasant morning, and we were returning to the keep when an odd sensation overcame me. An ill omen of the gravest kind, as though something very old and more so foul, had reached from its dark corner and touched our own. A scent not unlike that of the Abyss, and an ill will, not unlike the demon I knew… but greater, more dangerous. As the sensation rose to a crescendo in my being… perhaps mere seconds, memories? If they were they were not mine. Fragments. A pillar of fire, the impression of burning flesh… A girl with dark hair overcome by fear of something uncontained… An older woman, resolved wielding a staff… and then, before I had time to truly grasp it, it began to fade. I came immediately to write of it. It was fleeting, but I think it may be significant. I will ponder this--

[At this point the writing seems to end abruptly, as though interrupted. When it continues later, at first it is little more than rambling notes. Incoherent phrases loosely tied together. The script is a bit jagged, as if written by a weakened hand. The quill does not press into the into the parchment with its usual weight. Soon the writing starts to take shape into something less jumbled, though it remains done with a shakier hand than normal.]

Myhun came to me, worried for my safety. He said something about demons attacking near Nashkell, and that they were seeking the amulet. He wanted to see if he could scribe the runes. He felt it urgent to seek them, lest those of more ill intent seek them first. Naturally I was hesitant. Through the course of our conversation Wythran approached. The crass sort that he is, he is still frighteningly perceptive. So the conversation continued.

As my mind seemed to wrap around the idea of seeking to unravel this mystery, well it was as though something clicked… something set in motion that I did not understand fully at the time. Whatever it was exactly, the other two seemed to recognize it to a point, though they may not have realized what significance it held. I feared it. A slow creeping fear at first. Fragile tendrils of it that wrapped themselves about the whole of my being. They were suggesting something that I had yet to ever allow to happen, and it terrified me. The past shapes the present… and my past wrought fear, and mistrust, pain and doubt.

I saw a door in my mind’s eye. Looming and black, and I feared it. The very concept of seeking the runes seemed to draw it up from the depths of some forgotten corner of the mind. As the door loomed closer, I thought surely if it did not consume me the fear rising to near panic would. I found myself fighting to focus on anything… Anything save for that door. It commanded my thoughts mercilessly, and for a moment I felt trapped.

It was crude words and thinly veiled insinuation that saved me. In that moment I thanked all the mercies for that less than tactful elf. The exchange that fell between he and Myhun became an anchor to clear thought. Slowly the door faded back into the darkness from whence it came. It was strange how the fear clung to me. Prayers did not so easily assuage it. What he asked… what they asked… dare I answer?

Do they not realize what they ask of me? I have seen it kill others. I have seen it leave me so near death Myrkul need only grasp my hand… and the memories. Precious memories wiped away by careless seekers of power. The closer they come to that which they wish, the more it destroys… days… months… years… Then all that remains is the pain. Seldom was there time enough to heal the damage done before the next assault. Often times the only thing that saved my mind from utter destruction was the priestesses counsel that if too much damage were done, the amulet would be lost.

This, the past that shaped the fear of the present… this is what stayed my answer despite the logical arguments set forth. Better the Devil you know… than the one you don’t… Was that what I was down to now? Choosing which pair of careless feet would tromp the inner workings of my mind? In the quest for such power as the Soulkeep promised, were there any who would step with care? Better the devil you know indeed. I could not say Myhun was trustworthy, but perhaps more trustworthy than most who sought the secrets hidden within. Not that it amounted to a great deal, but at least he was content to ask and accept my answer.

Strangely as I found myself closer to accepting their aid, as it were, the door returned to the forefront. Perhaps it was a manifestation of my acceptance… perhaps figurative, perhaps literal, but it terrified me all the same. What lay beyond it? Was it my place to ask?

‘Some Doors are meant to be feared…’

I spoke. I heard their responses, felt the air go cold around us, and all I saw was the door as it pushed through my thoughts. With it came a knowledge that I had possessed, but this information was more refined, more controlled. A means to touch the thoughts of others by little other than force of will, and if I dared ask it, to control them. Was this perhaps how I could focus on another and seek the truth of their words? Or merely the means to draw them to the amulet? I found thought difficult then. The door, looming and black… blackest depths unlike anything I had yet to know. Heavy and foreboding, impenetrable save by those meant to pass through.

The door drew infinitely more close to the surface. Had I the capacity to do so at that point I would have been terrified, but thought and feeling were lost to me and there was only the door. I heard Myhun asking about Truesight and demons… I felt the empty teacup fall from my hands. Then there was nothing, only the door. It beckoned. Now it refused to be denied its answer.

It began to feel like a strange dream. Time seemed to slow around us, and the sound as the teacup hit the floor sounded hollow and distant.

‘Some Doors…’

I was distantly aware of Myhun moving toward me telling me to snap out of it… I felt his hand on my shoulder and I looked to him, but could not see him. Nothing was clear anymore. For an instant fear welled up… Then the door over took it. All thought all emotion… all movement near halted, and there was only the door. Everything seemed to stop, and I was faced with a choice. To continue or turn back? I remembered a prayer then, for guidance, for protection, for mercy to what lay beyond. Wythran’s words reached my thoughts… and I reached to the door.

I heard Myhun ask Wythran for help and then everything at once seemed to stop. There was no sound, no movement, no thought, nothingness… Darkness… I had fallen through the door.

When again there was something to focus on, I was in a place frighteningly familiar, and before me stood a figure. It seemed real, but it felt false, taught, ingrained into thought until it was made to feel real, to be real, though it was wrong.

‘Three come in place of one, and none are right. If you will seek the door you will announce your allegiance to the master.’

It took his form… the voice it spoke with was mechanical and it waited. I dared not speak. Something clung to me, the servitude long forgotten, and again I was that frightened girl ducking spells and dodging broken furniture or books thrown in anger and frustration. Do not anger him… do not draw his wrath. The thought came as I looked away from his face. I was only marginally aware of Wythran and Myhun.

‘You are wrong, your presence here is not proper. You will be ejected.’

I had heard those words before… many times. My gut tightened for the blinding pain that would come and instead I heard voices. Only -his- was clear.

‘Only servants of the Master are welcome in this place. Those who do not serve the master will be ejected.’

Again a din of voices and I felt myself compelled to speak out of habit:

‘I am the servant…’

‘Speak your allegiance to the Master for only those who serve may enter here.’

‘I am the map and the key…’

The din of voices continued and I spoke as the figure before me spoke. My response was hesitant. How he hated his name without all of its perceived titles. I was not -worthy- to speak it. I was the tool… the servant…

‘Speak your allegiance to the Master, only a servant--’

‘Ahrimann… the Master … I the servant.’

‘You serve Ahrimann, Arch Necromancer and rightful Zulkir of all schools of magic. One day the world will see his works, and they will be terrible. Step into the portal. I am bound to his servants as they are to -him-’

And the world seemed to stand still. Bound… The word echoed as the scene shifted around us.

All at once we stood in a ruin. There was a shadow… though the elf was more defined than shadow, his shades more of heritage than any figurative wording, though both were true enough. The whole area was bathed in light. It spoke to the other two as my thoughts drifted to a dream.

Yes, this Drow was dead… but a piece of him had remained to warn me, to see the Spider fall.
‘Trust no one. The enemy is coming. Trust none of them, the Spider comes… and they are many.’
Then it turned its gaze to me and it spoke, its past warnings echoed through my thoughts.

‘The road closes about you, and your companions are both here for reasons you know not at all. Yet the road makes allies of the strangest folk. The necromancer made this place, and here I will remain until his works have shaped the world or fallen to dust. If you are Loyal then tell me your goal here. Here the truth will set you free…’

As he spoke, his eyes carried a warning, and while it may not be fully understood, I understood enough to heed it with a measure of caution. The other bid service, this one bid truth… and we spoke each in turn before he continued.

‘I have no answers. This is a place of transition. Here you will be tested.’

His look seemed to bore into the others as the scene shifted yet again.

The first sensation I was aware of was the darkness… the smell of ash and a hatred long since forgotten… and as my eyes focused… it was not so easily remembered, even though the very walls of the place reeked of it. A sensation of utter wrongness permeated as things focused clearer.

The figure that stood before me was painfully familiar… and a flood of emotions I was unprepared for swept through me with a ferocity that left me shaking where I stood. I looked on that familiar face. Anguish twisted deep within me to see him so twisted… to hear him speak of being drawn here. Hatred for what she had done to him… to us… but all the Sadness, all the anger… it paled, for there was still something deeper, untouched and unhindered by everything, even if the loss of it left a bitter and hollow space behind.

‘Guardian…?’

The word came choked as he looked to me and he spoke.

‘Love did not save me then, and it will not save you now.’

I shook my head to argue, I struggled to speak, and could find no words, no thoughts. Emotions screamed through me even as he faded from sight. That sense of loss renewed as two very fierce figures manifested before us. They were the hate and the anguish, the pain and the sadness, and they threatened to overtake my very being. For a moment I thought myself dying. Unable to move, unable to flee or defend… helpless… that forgotten sense of hopelessness crept back as the memory of death came back to my mind. Blind Hatred… Cruel Loss… assailed and I was slow to act. Slow to seek faith, slow to seek that sustaining hope… Mercy…

And all at once the world paused again, seemed to shift and twist and fall apart. The foes we faced faded away. There was an empty moment and then the inn came back into focus sharply. All at once Myhun’s hand settled, his grip on my shoulder to shake me awake… time resumed exactly where it had left off with a rushing roar. I felt myself shudder and double over. As bad as the pain was… I had certainly expected much worse. Still the confusion was there. I could feel the utter exhaustion settling over me demanding sleep from my weakened body. It took the other two a bit to realize the span of moments and what had just occurred.

I had lost concentration. And as I was wounded in the mind’s eye, the body manifested. I choked on blood. My ears, my nose. I touched the blood looking at it mutedly and struggled to draw up concentration enough to mend the damage. Desperately I sought focus as I heard Myhun and Wythran moving about. I heard Myhun’s cry for concern as the sound sundered from me another wracking pain and a shudder. I fought the black pull of unconsciousness that loomed near. I felt him tip my head back to try and stop the bleeding from my nose. I nearly choked again as my hands covered my ears, and the blood continued to flow.

‘Mercy… Mercy… lend me your strength.’

It was less a prayer and more a desperate thought as I doubt any sound fell from my lips, slowly… focus returned and through will I summoned a prayer to mend the damage, even then it was weak, I was weak. I had lost a good deal of blood. I was exhausted, but as bad as it was, it was a fair deal kinder than what I was used to. Eventually the sensitivity to the noise was drawn under control, and while the headache was nearly unbearable, I managed to push it back and focus on the questions they asked. I answered what I could, Wythran went to seek rest.

I reached for the teacup in the floor and poured a cup, surprised it was still quite hot. The whole thing that took so much, offered so much… merely seconds, and it felt like hours. Not too long after I finished the half of cup of tea, which blessedly washed the taste of blood in my mouth, I vaguely remember the gnome coming in… and as he and Myhun began to argue who was the better wizard, I fell deep into the valleys of sleep and did not stir for some time.

Apparently, perhaps because I have never in my recollection slept for so many hours, and the remnant traces of blood, my health came into question at some point. I woke in the state of confusion that tends to result for a bit after such encroachments. It was mild by comparison. I could remember the details, nothing was forgotten. Thoughts were jumbled and misplaced but nothing was lost to me this time. The irony is, for all I suffered, all I needed to do was ask… though I fear going alone, I fear more taking enemies into shadow or leaving myself unwatched.

There was much talk, though little of it was actually clear, and it may be a day or so before everything settles fully. I am wiser for the experience, stronger in the knowledge of it. I must remain watchful none the less. There are many who seek the Soulkeep… many who must not find it. All who must not touch the cursed thing. It must be destroyed…

There is much work to do. Much duty left to complete. I will see it all to its end, for in the end there is only mercy. In the end the enemies of Mercy will not stand, and there will be peace… I will find rest… but for now there is much left to do. I am still tired. I will rest for a time. No doubt the curiosity of others will cause them to seek a continuation of the journey we had started. Also is the question of the situation between Sister Abby and I. If I cannot find resolution with her I will need to either make arrangements to stay longer at Candlekeep, or I will need to make my way to Beregost. I am loath to leave behind the safety of the keep, but I am also homesick, though the temple is hardly a wise choice… Our welcome to the Feldepost has yet to be rescinded, so that is an option. That is a bit closer to some enemies than I would care to be, but if needs must, I will make it work. Speaking of some enemies… what has happened to Harker? What other enemies lurk unseen? Bah… I could keep myself awake all night with such questions and ponderings. I should rest. The questions, and their answers, or lack there of, will still be there come morning.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED-FOURTEENTH ENTREY]

So much, sometimes too much. I stand, as unwavering as I am able. If you cannot speak the truth, then do not speak. I found myself quiet many times today. How long will we be safe, even safe at Candlekeep? I battle Doubt, Anger and even Fear as surely as I battle Bhaalists, Drow and the number of other foes I face at present. Frustration. People are more content to argue principles, the technicalities, when we should be coming together and standing against such threats. I cling to my faith, and the hope in the words of Ilmater… I dray my strength and my patience from these things. And it is greatly needed these days.

Surrounded by doubt, and knowing that every step, every word swim through a sea of unseen enemies. Sometimes it is by Faith alone and fragile hope that I have not drown. More troubling still is the number of faces I cannot say I trust, but have no grounds to act. Half heard whispers, veiled implications, those are hardly enough to act on if at all. Trustworthy faces are few and far between. It is evident that our enemies know where we hold sanctuary at. I have seen more Drow than I care to of late, and after the excitement today… everyone else knows where Billy and I hide.

I took comfort in the number of people, and the speed in which they rallied to our side at the first whispers of trouble. Still, I am worried by the number of faces unfamiliar to me that showed up… Gone are the days when I look to new faces as friends first, and foes only when given cause. Now they are viewed politely through kind smiles as a possible threat until they have proven their worth and merit. Ilmater forgive me, but too often trust has been extended to an enemy in disguise.

Those of Candlekeep do not wish war brought to their door, and I understand that. They are there after all not to protect the fate of this child, but to protect the knowledge contained within. Still I cannot help but wonder what good knowledge is when all who would enjoy it, and all who seek to protect it have perished? So I have made last minute arrangements to buy myself what precious little time I can find. Adam and Jonas try to gather together a force enough to take on the Bhaalist threat, and hopefully end it once and for all. In the mean time, I continue to keep Billy as safe as I can.

They send people claiming to be relatives, they offer coins and send people to either attempt to take him from me enough that they can sway him, and I am worried. Greed sways more than virtue. It does not sway all, but it sways many enough for me to be concerned. With things as they are in Baldur’s Gate, with the angry crowds, and mine and Abby’s discord, it is not safe to return home. We could perhaps do as Valerius suggested and take to the wilderness. Though as hard as I must fight to keep him safe within the stone walls of the city, and the fortress of Candlekeep, I fear we would be to vulnerable. I am no more akin to the woods than I am to warmongering.

Still the evening passed in uneasy silence. I mulled plans, half formed and desperate through my mind, seeking one that would not damn us all to the service of the Lord of Murder and his whimsy. One that would sacrifice as little as possible. There has been bloodshed and loss enough. My heart is heavy with the pain and anger of others. I do not wish them to suffer further because of the war between two gods who are not their own. I want to stand before the throngs I hear of near the sanctuary and tell them that the problems they face are not at that temple! Not at the door of the Ilmatari sanctuary! No the true threat to them lay in wait behind the cursed walls of the Bhaalist temple. To send any there, but the most seasoned of warriors would no doubt be death. I will not see more fall to Bhaal!

We have come so far, fought so long. I refuse to accept that it will come to any but a good end. Bhaal and is servants will not hold sway in the region. I will see to that. By the Mercy that is the Broken One! We will gather together our allies, those who wish to see no purchase of evil in the lands, and we will stand. We will endure as we have, as we continue to do. As He Who Endures, does, so must we. Be strong in our faith, and hold to our hope. Mercy will prevail. This I know… but how do I show everyone else? Mercy of Ilmater guide me… There must be a way to resolve this sooner rather than too late. I will stand, so long as I am able, and when my own strength fades, Ilmater lend me yours that I may complete the duty set before me. I will not waver. There is much work to do. Mercy willing there is enough time.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED-FIFTEENTH ENTRY]

Dark are the days. The shadows whisper of Bhaalist assassins and worse. Threats seep from all corners. Never do I walk a path that is strictly mine, I have yet to step or speak or breath that was not noted by one foe or another, not in some time. The storm rages. Every action they take only serves to fuel my resolve, every whispered doubt only strengthens my faith. I have not walked so long to falter now. Ilmater walks beside me, his hand at my back lends me strength. As my path carries me through the darkness where the enemy walks, I step carefully. All things happen with purpose, and I hold dear every lesson it grants me. I listen. I watch. I act. Sometimes I may fall, but the strength that is my faith carries me onward. Hope lights the way and I can see my goal. I am content in this, even as the storm threatens to overtake me.

Preparations are made for battles yet to be fought. Prayers are prayed, oaths made. The enemy seeks to unnerve me with their tricks and lies. They strike at those dear in hopes of forcing my hand. A few days passed they struck out at Abby. She had come to speak with me. She fears the Bhaalists mean some sort of invasion or some sort of mass poisoning. She worries the reason we are a target is because we aid the sick and the poor and would work against such disease spread. She worries for the water supplies. She is right in part, we are a target because we give hope to the people.

‘Hope is an emotion we can ill afford among the populace.’

How many times have I heard those words when I asked why the Ilmatari leave? How many times would I hear them yet fall from the enemy’s lips? Who can say? I knew enough why they struck out at us. They wished the people weak, susceptible to the message of ill tidings of the Lord of Murder. We were targeted because rather than abandon the sanctuary and the people when our numbers were so few, I stood. They target Billy because I defy them, the strike at those dear to me because I refuse to surrender to the will they desire. They attacked Sister Abby because she was a humble healer as much their enemy as I am. She offers hope, even if there is strife between us, they know her demise would cause me ill, would increase the differences between us. They were correct in that much. I ran as soon as I caught wind, suddenly glad she did not leave the keep alone, and that she had gone with enough blessings to shield an army.

I ran from the keep to the city, I gave nothing pause. I had hoped to find her safe at the sanctuary, and to warn her, that she could remain safe. I was dismayed when Sister Juna had told me she had gone with some adventurers to cleanse the undead to the north. So I continued to run. What came as I made my way further north is shrouded in fog. I took at least one blow to the head, and if I died or was left near death I could not say. It was by the very grace of Ilmater that I rose unsteadily at all to see Sister Abby and her companions fallen to blades long gone from sight. I had come too late, and Bhaal’s minions had found their prey. Weakly I did what I could draw them from death and mend wounds. I saw her safely to the temple with a heavy heart. No doubt, from her words during the walk, and as we arrived at the temple, she wishes I had never stood at all against them. The chasm between us widens. A strange sorrow twists my heart for I fear her doubt will destroy that which I have worked so hard to keep safe and sacred. She is a Traditionalist, and I cannot fault her for standing by her views. I admire her for it even if it frustrates me and makes my work more difficult. She talks now of closing the sanctuary until such dark days have passed. It may yet be for the best… though I pray we need not do such a thing.

I made my way back to Candlekeep with heavy thoughts. My anger twisted deep in the core of what I am, and I knew it wrong. They sought to cause such pain, to sway me, but with each innocent they lay at my feet, I am only more resolved to see them ended. I will see this ended. I will see the souls lost to them reclaimed, the temple-fortress they hide within destroyed. I will see it all set right. Perhaps even place an orphanage and a school over the sight, once cleansed and sanctified, not out of spite, but to serve as a final landmark. A final message that Mercy does Prevail. There is no other end, none.

I sought refuge from my churning thoughts when I realized they were poisoning my words. I could not toss my anger to the sea fast enough, and I walked… found my way to the beach. Mercies as infinite as the sands, peace to be found in the waves. As usual, my perceived solitude was not so solitary. I sat repairing the slashes in my robes and cloak. They were clean cuts thankfully and easy enough to repair. Thank the small mercies it seems. Its strange. No longer do I jump at whispers in my ear… I have grown used to them I think. As I expressed my frustrations to the listening waters before me, and stitched carefully a stone bounced off of my knee. Not an overly valuable gem I gather, a shiny trinket meant to make me aware that I was not alone. To gauge my reaction no doubt.

Then it was a game to the shadow that whispered in my ear… to seek to rile me. I meant to make my way back to Candlekeep, and pay little mind to it. However, my mind saw an opportunity for information I could not well pass up. A chance to better understand a darker foe, that dwells in darker corners. For a period of time I was a trinket, a fascination, all the while I was carefully gathering facts to me. Faces, names, subtle differences between what I have known in the past and what I understand now is different. Maps even. To understand the mind of foes unknown presently can be vastly useful when I find myself trapped later, if it comes to that.

We shall see what comes of those long hours in shadow. See where the information lands. I dare them to seek that which is so hidden. I nearly well beg them to, for I cannot seek it alone, and will find no peace until it is discovered and destroyed. I long for peace… for rest. I would like to find it while I yet live to enjoy it in this realm, but if that is not meant to come to pass… I can be content in knowing it awaits me at the side of Ilmater in the halls atop Mount Martyrdom. There is no end but this. Mercy will prevail, and peace shall find me, in one form or another.

For now I wait, I endure. I pray and I stand strong in my faith, hold hope to light my path. All things happen for a purpose, and time reveals all things to those patient enough to wait. I have been too long away, but I am renewed. I will return before they worry too much. Blessed am I, for the number that care for me so greatly…
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND SIXTEENTH ENTRY]

Its been a few days since the attempt on Abby’s life, and my stolen moments of quiet draw to a close as I write. Needless to say, much time has been spent in thought. Many things are set in motion that hopefully will work in my favor later. If they do not, it merely means there is either one more or one less thing to worry about. No sense in fretting over it now.

I wonder over a great many things, a great many worries. Endure Meri, have patience and peace will find you in time. Ilmater bids my heart be patient, and so I wait. I take comfort in my faith especially now. The one thing I can trust completely, for in the end there is only Mercy. I hear word that the sanctuary still remains open in Baldur’s Gate. Abby has separated me as far as possible from them in hopes of protecting them. For the better. I wonder if her and I will ever stand beside each other in agreement? My path and hers are so different sometimes it seems the name we give our lord is our only common thread. I pray there will be time for us to learn to understand each other when this threat has passed

In any case, come what may, after all this time, hope still remains. Preparations are underway and it is only a matter of time before we are at last ready to bring the battle to our enemies. The debate remains as to how many we need to gather for such a thing, but we have it sorted soon, Mercy willing. In the mean time I settle into the knowledge that falls my way, through whispered conversations and tentative alliances. The only worry is that, if I can find it out, so can less trusting types.

Hope’s light. Not always will I need to fear the shadows or the whispers that come from them. Now I simply wait for the will of Ilmater to bid me strike. Only with his guiding hand will we succeed. Walking this path has taught me much. Sometimes we are called to act, to protect, sometimes to wait, sometimes to mend. Ever on this path have I sought to act as my faith and my heart have bid me act. Now the path becomes more narrow, and more treacherous and my steps must be well placed. We cannot afford misstep, not after walking so far on this path. Mercy will prevail, there is no end but this.