Never Again Forget - Saint Merielle Silene

[LeslieMS]

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YAY!
There you have it darlings. Five parts. An exhaustive bit of writing, but well worth it. I have almost as much fun writing the entries as I do playing the game. Sorry its long and fragmented of sorts... sorry if the ending was a bit anti-climatic, its 12:30 in the morning. I have been at it a while =)
Here you have it.
Thanks Watcher! Had a blast.
Meri still expects Firavain, Adam and Ian to give her crap when they get back in game and caught up, but hey... its the name of he game.
Enjoy darlings! I am off to bed. See you IG tomorrow!
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[ONEHUNDRED TWENTY EIGHTH ENTRY]
PART FIVE OF FIVE: HOMECOMING

Good thing I helped Sister Dorine with supper as we had extra guests. Ian, Sister Addy, Adam, and much to my surprise Firavain joined us. I could tell I was in for at least one lecture… Gods forbid if Ian, Adam and Firavain all cornered me at one time… Mercy of Mercy if that happens. Fortunately they were too tired to lecture, they ate supper and poured themselves into bed. We made plans to leave first thing in the morning and ride back to Baldur’s Gate. I wasn’t keen on riding a horse again, but at this point, time was a luxury we dared not waste. I have things packed and ready to go. We have fresh horses. We can teach Sister Addy to ride the way I did I suppose… this should be interesting to say the least.

I am loathe to leave Trademeet. Sure the visit wasn’t at an ideal time, under ideal circumstances, but it has been more than pleasant. It will be good to get back though. It has been far too long since we left. I am anxious to get back to what needs be done. Ilmater’s blessing alone this has been mostly a smooth trip… Ilmater’s blessing alone, that which wasn’t smooth was survivable. Ilmater be with us still as we make our way home. May Sister Addy’s first horseback experience be massively more pleasant than mine… For now I seek rest. We leave just before dawn.
~~

Prayers answered in all ways! We had a safe trip home, Sister Addy only fell from her horse a half dozen times, and each time managed to land on something with a bit more give than I did. Though at one point she threatened the poor horse with the ladle. Fortunately she never got further than that. I think Firavain hates horses… or maybe he is cranky. I keep hearing him whisper less than polite less than Elven curses at the poor beast. Adam and Tessian laughed and talked and chatted the whole way I think. It was wonderful. Ian… Well he was thankful things worked out… though I think he still wants to strangle me for worrying him so badly. At least after talking with Tessian, he understood it wasn’t entirely my fault. To think I didn’t see it. Of course Ron-whine would have no qualms about using his son as bait to lure in his next desired trinket. I am -no one’s- trinket. I belong to none but Ilmater. I hope he reflects on that as he rots in whatever afterlife he has found. Snake of a man.

We each went our separate ways when we got to the fork in the road near Candlekeep. Adam had things to do, Ian had some things to check on. The two walked Sister Addy back safely to the temple. Ian later told me that things were most well at the temple. Firavain went to the barracks, he no doubt needed rest, and had a lot of paper work to catch up on. He still didn’t do much talking, or explain why he was there in the first place… either way, a good thing he was… just in case. Though I imagine if we are ever granted time to do so, I would like to speak with him. Tessian went to the inn to rest, and I sought Billy.

The only thing more joyous than all the bright moments of the trip was coming into the keep and getting tackled by that dear sweet child. Safe and sound, perfectly healthy and as wondrous as ever. He talked endlessly about what they had done while I was away. Joan and Valqis, many others had put on some grand sounding plays. He learned a bit about magic from Emrys and Joan. He didn’t like that they were so strict while I was away, but he understood why it had to be that way. I told him of some of the sights I had seen on the trip. He loved the pillow with the ship on it. The painting of the dolphins now hangs quite proudly over the boy’s bed. I left out the unpleasantness, that we could save for a better time, like after he was truly safe. Finally we ran out of chatter and he found his way to bed. I need to speak with Maximus, though as I can tell things are well. Seems the whole thing has gone as smoothly as it can. First thing’s first… I need a nap.
~~

The next two days were a blur of conversations as I caught up with what I had missed while away, and divulged what details I dared. I did finally speak with Maximus. Plans go well, people answer the call from all over Faerûn. The last of those due to come should arrive in a tenday or less. He has agreed that Billy needs to be well guarded during the assault, and is fortunately planning said assault. I trust him in this. It sounds as though it might go smoothly enough… at least for now it does. I remain hopeful and pleasantly optimistic. He also said that he and Sir Jonas will guard me since they know better than to try to talk me into not going. Maximus says such a thing will represent the Triad.

I hear word of angels visiting the temples calling forth the Ilmatari from all walks and paths. They come here pledging sword arm and life alike to the protection of Billy. Word of William has reached far. Where mine and Maximus’ attempts to draw aid have failed… Angelic messengers seem to be taking up the slack. Accounts of the events all speak of the same thing. A beam of light and an angel who delivers a cryptic message:

"Prepare children. Follow the one who protects you all from the Foul One's will. The boy's soul must be saved."

The time of waiting will soon draw to a close. The time for battle draws nigh, and we prepare. I am no fool however… surely as we make ready, so does the enemy. Whispers of a shadowy figure about the keep has me worried. As do the cryptic messages delivered by those who watch the enemy from the shadows. Now is not the time to become complacent and drop guard. Now we must stand ready, watch ever closer. It is said that the darkest hours come before the dawn. We must stand and endure, with steeled hearts and sturdy will. Mercy will prevail. That I do not question, but it does not meant that we need not work for such an end. No. We will work for it… we will fight for it. Some may even bleed for it. Mercy of Ilmater be with us all… that we may all stand to see it come to fruition, that hope I have so long clung to. Let it guide us, as you will guide us Ilmater… let us not misstep. Keep your hand at our backs that we may endure what is to come.

There are still some things to be done, but they will be done, and we will be ready. Bhaal and his ilk will fall. I will see Billy safe, my oath fulfilled. Do not mistake what must be with pride. I speak as such simply because I know it must come to pass. Billy must be protected. The people must be protected. Mercy will prevail. There is no end but this.
~~

A day with Tessian, much to Joan’s irritation. I couldn’t help it. It was nice to see things nonsensical after days of seriousness. He had said he would save me from such. Indeed he did. I laughed, and every time dear Joan rolled her eyes I only laughed more. It was a grand day, started right and proper by a grand breakfast. Silly Tessian won’t give me the recipe to pancakes yet. Sneaky man and his pancakes. I will have it eventually. Or be perpetually amused in the attempting to obtain it. Joan called us star-crossed lovers… but… We settled on Firefly-crossed instead. I do love him. None could be so dear as he. Laughter is love, it is said. I think… perhaps it is true. Time will tell what is to come of this. For now I am content with pancakes and laughter. We took a few quiet moments to contemplate the cosmos and the purpose of the stars before he decided he would go on the hunt for a cheery perch, and I to get some much needed rest. Someday I may find peace… Some moments… peace finds me. Count your blessings Meri. Count them well. There may come a day when the light of those blessings guides you again from darkness.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED TWENTY-NINETH ENTRY]

The days have been silent. The nights have been silent. Sleep comes less easy in this calm before the storm, than when tempests rage. Conversations have become more or less an idle distraction to my thoughts. I see it in their faces. They wait. We watch warily, the looming shadows on the horizon. Even the shadows are silent… for now. I keep busy in the idle hours when the silence is thick, and I listen. I listen to my heart… I listen to my faith. I have reflected, traced, pondered and puzzled every step, every single one to this place. To this path. Even before my heart was Mercy’s, before my soul was Ilmater’s… Even when another thought to call my steps at their bidding… Blind arrogant fools. Every Master, every Mistress, every one of them blind to the truth. Ever have I walked Mercy’s path, perhaps even before I could remember it. Time and toil has worked diligently to teach me strength. I have learned well the lessons of the dark past. One does not appreciate the light without the darkness. In understanding our path, our place, our tribulations… We learn to step wisely, to accept duty with grateful hearts… We learn to endure… to become as we must.

They gather like moths to flame… Strangers, loyal to all that is light. Battle plans are made. Allies are gathered. There is talk of strategy, of friend and foe, of truth and lie, of tricks and traps. I do not doubt that even now the enemy seeks to undo our carefully laid plans… they seek to gain advantage. We must not waver, we will not falter. We have hope, we have faith, we stand together in all that is good and all that is Mercy. Too long has shadow held sway, has fear and death stained the land. Prepare! Mercy’s Angels, call. They call Mercy’s Children together. The words of Ilmater run through my thoughts and prayers until it becomes a joyous sounding of hope.

I spend the quiet moments in prayer. In that place near the keep that is so much Nature’s representation of all the mercies great or small. I let my sorrows, fewer these days, fall to the sea. What is one tear to the whole of the ocean? The winds carry away fear and anger until all that is left of me is hope and pace. Then as I sit still, leaning on sturdy rocks that bid me endure as they do… I listen. Quiet comforts whispered o’er my spirit. I listen, I pray, I wait. He need only whisper his command to me, and I am ready. The willing servant shall await the next task.

I am blessed, with allies and dear friends. I am never alone… even in the loneliest of darkness, Ilmater stands with me. Fortunately I spend more hours in the company of light, than in the company of shadow. Even in the moments of joy that find me, I sense the smile of He Who Endures. I think of Tessian, of that which holds him so dear, and smile for it is mercy. I think of the smiles drawn on the faces of those dear friends, of those stalwart allies. I hope they know how truly precious a gift they are. How great a Mercy they are. We will not fail. Each is determined to succeed for the other’s sake.

For Billy, for Dianne, for every mother who has lost a child to Bhaalist hand, for every soul claimed by the Lord of Murder, for every dear friend be they here or lost to time and distance, even death, for all deserving of Mercy… We stand. My duty to protect the child at all cost, is as much my promise to see the dark shadows dispersed for the sake of each of these.

Let none be lost to Mercy, let all who seek it… find it. Let all who oppose it… Let them know they face the Triad, let them know they face all that is light, truth, all that is good, hope and we will not abide the cruel shadows further. The time has come to set final plans, to gather allies. We stand, we watch, we wait and we pray, we -prepare-… in the end, we will endure the battle, Mercy will Prevail. I see no end but this. In the end, there can only be Mercy, for Mercy is in all things, to all things, in some measure or another.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED THIRTIETH ENTRY]

There was a bit of a show of force as Emrys and I made the journey from Candlekeep to Baldur’s Gate. There was a skeleton, a bone-thing that glowed eerily. Its disconcerting light offset by the shadow that engulfed it… no not shadow, more black, inky darkness that snaked about its form. When it spoke, its voice seemed to echo about strangely.

‘Your time grows short Merielle. You -will- bring us the vessel.’

‘No. You will not have him.’

‘You will surrender him to us, or the killings will begin again. The blood will be on your hands.’

‘You will not have what is not yours. He is Mercy’s child.'

If it could be said that bones could smile… this one did. Still my tone remained calm and even. The banter did not last long. The enemy grows impatient, rash. That may or may not be a good thing. In this case, it came to blows. Fortunately there were few on the roads. Each time we fell one of the creatures that seemed to step from the darkness, the source of the darkness seeming to be the outer-planes themselves. I could not say what the creatures were. The seemed unlike anything I fought before. They were large, wreathed in shadow with looming, red eyes that seemed to burn through the blackness that enveloped them. They hit hard, and with a deep malevolence. They were also accompanied by Shadows.

There was not a repeat attack later as I sought to make my way back to the keep. It seems it was little more than a warning. A threat that we can not give them a chance to act on. Whether or not it is an idle threat matters little at this point. I know they will kill if they are given the chance. Which reminds me… speaking of those who will kill, I went to the temple to deliver some supplies and check on things there. I swear I smelled the Hin’s pipe… No it wasn’t just any pipe with any stinkweed in it… faint… like a ghost’s thought carried on a fell wind, but there all the same. I found my reactions instinctual. I stood at the door way of the temple and waited for a whisper that never came. I half expected to hear his mocking laugh. Whether the others smelled it or not, well I could not say, for I did not have the heart to ask.

It couldn’t be… he was dead, the body prepared and cremated… It was a memory triggered by the stress of the attack. Wasn’t it? Mercy of Ilmater let it be that my unreliable mind played some cruel trick. How long was his body left unattended in the corpse wagon? Could not powerful forces draw back the dead from ash? Surely the chances of such were so slim and faint… He is dead. Mercy willing he remains so… It is the not knowing. The lingering question of uncertainty that haunts me now… like a wisp of smoke… a whisper of memory across the senses… Was the skeleton a harbinger? A hint of something more foul yet to come? Or is it something as simple as lack of sleep and too much worry? Time will reveal this mystery. Time reveals all things… even the shadows.

Jonas has spoken with Duke Eltan. The dukes have promised support of the Fist, and bid Jonas see to the Banites seeking to deprive us of iron. This facet of events was unknown to me before he mentioned it. Though it is hardly surprising. We have been promised Fist support in the attack. The Nashkell Trade Emporium has also offered what spare supplies they have to see those who will fight. Members of the Triad continue to pour into the coast. So many who have agreed to fight, it is mind boggling. So many who have agreed to help, it amazes me how many there truly are with good intent. It is a balm to my heart as we face such troubles.

We await Maximus’ return from Neverwinter. Meanwhile we gather supplies and plan. We are to attack soon… from the sounds of it, within the tenday. I pray in earnest now, that we are prepared. Indeed we have done much planning, much waiting. The heavens themselves have called us to prepare. Some speak of the coming battle as some glorious crusade. Some speak of it as some grand adventure. Some even see it as a means of revenge. An action long in the coming. They look forward to it, they pledge sword and spell, strength and faith, they would happily lay down their lives for such a cause… and the willingness with which they do so twists my soul.

So many have died in this… I can see every face so clearly. I pray I do not add more faces to that list of lost ones. They look forward to the coming battle, some with hope, some with dread… I look forward to the end of it. I have made many promises. Many that I intend to keep, many that will come to pass when the dust and blood has settled… When that foul place stands no longer. When the land is cleansed of foul taint, and we rebuild anew. When peace settles and shadow is washed away, when Billy is safe from that which plagues him… Then and only then, can I find peace. Mercy will prevail, darkness will no longer hold sway. In the end there is only Mercy, and for the Bhaalists that plague the region… the end comes swiftly. I ask not only Mercy guide us, but all that is good and true in the realms stand with us, for surely all that is darkness will oppose our every step. We will stand. We will not Falter. Mercy -Will- Prevail!
~~

Wythran came to me this day, as we finished breakfast, and were speaking of battle plans. He asked I come with him, spare him some of my time for his sake as much as mine. His manner may be harsh, and he may be largely a mystery, but I sense that Mercy is not lost on him, at least not so much as he might think. Many do not understand him, perhaps even himself, a lot I know do not fully trust him, many go so far as to dislike him. He thought it odd that I would agree to leave my ‘fawning suitors and over-protective guards’ especially at such a great distance. He thought it more odd that I trusted him. I explained I had no reason not to.

I have seen him change since I first met him, subtle… he may not even notice it. Simple kindnesses came easier to him. I have been pleasantly surprised by stoic support, and unexpected gestures of friendship. His holy symbol when I spoke of the trouble with Baenund, the ring he wore on his finger that he used to draw me back from Bah’lhal and death… the ring he still wore… an odd sentimental gesture, outdone only by the one he has gifted me which I wear on my littlest finger. He has stood by my side in battle. He stood by my side with Myhun and the attempted reading of the runes, he did not judge then, he has not judged since. Even the simplest things like the pure, base logic he used when he countered Mister Ashall… or should I say Brother Rente’s questionings before we were on good terms. He was there with the others to reclaim me from Bhaal’s faithful. I imagine he will be there many times from now. Whether or not he realizes or understands, he is a friend. A dear and trusted ally, despite his rough nature.

And this outing… to take me to plant trees near the Halfling village of Gullykin. To most it would seem an odd thing. To me? I was overjoyed. Did he know of my love for gardens? To plant… to work the earth with love and toil, and bring forth something green and growing. He intended it as a distraction from my many present troubles. Indeed I saw it as a welcome one. What is it I say? Things seldom go as planned. This was no exception.

I had heard rumors of the troubles facing the Halflings, but I was not prepared to see an entire group of people so gripped by fear… It wrenched my heart. Siomir, Wythran and I, decided to leave the gardening exploits for the daylight hours, after all, whatever plagued the Hin village did so at night. Wythran apologized more than once through the course of the night, but in truth, he had nothing to apologize for. They needed help. They did not ask for such a fate here in Gullykin. I was glad to help. And help we did… though not enough I fear. They know their foe at least. A large number of wolves… but no ordinary breed, larger and smarter… more vicious. We fought many, though the largest and most cunning of them eluded us… that one was not a mere wolf by any standard. A worg they called it… like the ones I have seen with goblins. Only this one was much larger… by at least double, no I do not exaggerate. It was leading the others! Strategizing, coordinating their attacks. The whole of the evening was a sum of events that defied nature itself, and blood.

We killed many of the pack. Perhaps that is why the large one returned to the village… as we made our way back we saw him leaving. He carried a single Hin, still screaming in his jaws. If such a thing were possible the large beast paused, if only a half a second, his -smile- mocking us. Those screams will haunt me for some time. Even now I can hear the haunting way it seemed to echo as we tried to give chase… It was with very heavy hearts that we returned to the village. The two guardsmen it had killed, that too shall echo through my thoughts for some time. They could not be recalled from death, and given the state of the bodies, I could not wholly blame them. I could not even say that they were dead when the thing made a meal of them, a thought that chills the blood in my veins. I prepared the bodies… cleansed the area of gore for the sake of the Hin, they deserved that measure of peace. That small mercy I could offer them, and would do so gladly.

May Mercy find them. May they be given the strength to endure this trial, and may it be ended before there are none left to call that quaint village home. At least now they know their foe. They can learn how to act against it. No doubt it will not be long before the large beasts head decorates the wall above the mantle in the tavern. I only pray it be sooner, rather than later. Mercy to them, for they have great need of such. They will remain in my prayers. Perhaps when next I return with Wythran, the situation will be improved. There is always hope. This day, hope is renewed for some, strengthened for others, and for a few, found in some unexpected place.
~~

This day passed as I sought an escape from the anxieties that have robbed me of sleep lately. Conversation was plentiful, as were dear friends and kind smiles. There were a few moments of raised voices, and tense conversations, but overall the day was peaceful.

Selah and I took a pleasant walk, which turned into an equally pleasant boat ride. This day she was a boon to my spirit. Quite the poet. I enjoyed her poems, the longest one, though slightly sad, was still very lovely. She calls me sister now with ease, and gone are the days of ‘Miss Williams’ I chuckle to think we were once so formal. She has found a dear place in my heart that leaves no room for formality. I could easily see her as part of a childhood I never knew. If I had a sister in those early years… it very well could have been her, and I would have been overjoyed. It is just as grand to have a sister as such now, and I am more than content to call her friend.

For all that life has conspired to steal away, somehow I have found it. Friends, Family, Home, even Love… someday, Peace and, in time perhaps… Rest. I am content, more than I have ever been in so many years. The years lost to me, that childhood stolen by ill forces and a bad knock to the skull… the nearly six years bought and paid for, where I existed at another’s whims… the four spent learning to exist at my own whims, learning of faith… and all the days from that moment I left Trademeet until now… I do not think I could want for much else. There are troubles yes, some of them grave, some of them taxing, but peace always finds a way… in the end there is always Mercy, in one measure or another. To think… I once though myself unworthy of joy, of happiness, or freedom, or faith and hope, of peace… Now I see though, that they are mine to hold as much as duty or oath.

I have learned much in the years I know… though fewer than many my age or even those younger than I, I have sought to make good use of the time I have. Each moment a chance to learn something new, a chance to improve. Time is short, memories precious… every moment, each step we take… they are but one step on a journey of many… the destination hidden. I am grateful, even when my path has taken me through pain and shadow, for every step, each step guided by my lord Ilmater, which leads my faith. My faith which leads my heart… my heart which guides me onward.

I have learned not to plan too far ahead. I find it much more productive, much simpler to just start walking. Good or ill, the path will reveal itself… and if one is watchful, mindful of one’s steps… Well, it seldom ends worse than where it started. That is the beauty of it. The joy in it, to step if for no other reason than to see where we end up. I cannot help but wonder at the paths I have yet to take, but I know, ever the Crying Lord is with me, his hand at my back. He guides my steps, even before I knew it, even long after I forget it… Ever there is hope so long as faith stays with the heart… Ever my steps are guided by the Hand of Mercy. I who am the willing servant to whatever end that may lead, and I step with a joyous heart.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED THIRTY-FIRST ENTRY]

It has been a busy day, an anxious one. The first part of the Triadic forces have set up an encampment near the Bhaalist temple. Preparations seem to go well. A skirmish with some demonic forces, no doubt the doings of Bhaal’s faithful, slowed progress, but only slightly that I can tell. They are constructing a palisade wall, digging a well, bringing in siege equipment and soldiers. Many are pledging to the cause, of all walks and all paths. More are yet to come. We still await Maximus’ return from Neverwinter. He was due back today, hopefully what delays his return is not overly troubling.

I spent a good deal of the day gathering supplies. I had them brought to the encampment, bandages, water, linens, cots, anything we might need, from potions to tinctures, treatments for poisons and such. I am a healer, and you don’t have to be a grand tactician to know that people are going to get hurt… People are going to die… and the very thought sickens me. Yet it is not my place to tell them they cannot fight for what the believe any more than it is anyone’s right to dissuade me from my own beliefs. Instead, I settle for doing the best we can to keep it minimal. I have given Sister Abby charge of the medicinal supplies, and she will set up a field hospital accordingly.

Jonas has been keeping order as best as he can, and keeping the anxious groups busy. When I arrived I discovered that a few overeager ones had tried to storm the temple, and that there had been some sort of demon attack. Things had overall been quiet. I also discovered, by leave of the Dukes themselves, that I am to be in charge along side Maximus and Jonas. What in the name of Mercy gave them that idea? I am no tactician. It is as Tessian said I suppose… they look up to me… though why I do not entirely understand. Still, if it allows them some shred of hope, it is worth it. That doesn’t make me less nervous though. I pray I do not mislead them.

There was an issue with Darrien, the self professed leader of the Banites. After some terse words, and a battle with a Lich that he may or may not have had something to do with, he was apprehended and taken to the encampment. He is presently held under heavy guard. I did as duty bid, gave him his one chance, he forewent it. Jonas struck the blows that felled him, and he was quickly bound. The bustle of activity left him nearly forgotten by my mind, until I would walk past and hear him in his prayers. I could not help but be irked at his annoyance each time the Bhaalist assassins failed to end me. No matter, he can be disappointed. Greatly.

I was a bit daunted when Jonas asked me to oversee things while he sought rest. I am unused to people coming to me for orders. Unused to hearing the title ‘Chosen of Ilmater’ when I am addressed. Yes Ilmater has spoken to me as such, but it feels so much like a title I have not earned. And I hear it almost constantly now since Jonas and Brother Rente have become fond of using it. A wise leader takes the advice of those more knowledgeable than herself. So after some counsel with those I trust, who are more wise on such things, I then set the others on various tasks to prepare for the battle ahead. You needn’t be a warmonger to know that things work better, and fewer die, when things are well planned and properly organized.

With the kind words of those dear to me shifting through my thoughts, my prayers found purchase, though I am anxious, I remain hopeful. I prayed for many, with many, listened to their stories, that which brought them to their paths. I hoped to bring them some measure of comfort, and judging from the looks on their faces, it helped. We shall fan even the faintest glimmers of hope, until it is a raging blaze. We shall drive away the darkness, and at last there will be one less shadow on the coast. Yes the time of waiting has passed. Now we prepare. Soon, very soon, it shall be time for sword, and spell song. Our endurance will no longer be tested by time, but by our enemies. In the end, we shall prevail. Mercy shall prevail.

I tried to rest, but sleep found no purchase. I grew weary of pacing, so I returned to Candlekeep. Billy seems older now, and not in the way of burdens aging one… physically aged, by several years. Where once stood a boy looking eight perhaps, now stands a boy nearing his fourteenth or fifteenth season. I will be glad to see the taint removed from him. I spoke with him of what is to come, how important it was that he stay safe, that they not be allowed to trick him. This dear child, aged beyond his years in spirit, mind and body, still holds a dear place for me in his heart. He understands things as they are, and his hug as he turned from the day of lessons and conversation to seek sleep, I smiled. Soon. So very soon, this trouble would be passed us, he would be free to live as he sees fit. To step without fear, his soul cleansed of that which the darkness has forced on him… soon. I will not fail him. -We- will not fail him. Mercy will prevail.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED THIRTY-SECOND ENTRY]

The days seem to grow in length… almost tauntingly. At least it is granting us the time needed to complete our tasks. People continue to trickle in. Jonas has put the bounty from the Banite’s head to good use as I suggested. The coin from it now hires the sell-swords who have come to us. In the next few days, what is not used for that, I will take to get our last supply of bandages. I find it ironic that Bhaal’s ally is funding his enemy. Maximus has still not returned, and I grow worried over him. I pray the delay is caused by weather or some simple thing. In the mean time I do what I can to keep spirits up. A kind word and a gentle smile does much. I have also figured out how to make Honey Cakes from a campfire and a cast iron pan. They come out a bit heavy but serve morale all the same. It is grand to see people smile, even in times like these, and such things lift my heart. The missing Catapult was found, as was a fair bit of reinforcements. Things go well, but people are restless. One could be blind and still see it.

My time is divided between the encampment, and Candlekeep. Billy takes well to his lessons, though often times our conversations turn to what is to come. He wishes to join the fighting, I can see it in his eyes. He has said as much in a round about way. I explain to him that he has to remain safe, to be so close to those who would try to sway him, could be dangerous. Could be deadly… Not just for he, but for all of us. He is so eager to fight. He wants his revenge for Dianne’s death, though I have done my very best to quell that fire. Some embers… buried deep, smolder… and slowly consumes. I can only hope that in ending this, it may put out the anger entirely. Anger is so destructive. I do not wish to see it destroy him. This child cheated of what should have been his, in so many ways. His should not be such burdens to bear.

Yet… he does. Just as we all do. Life pushes upon us, burdens undeserved. We can either be crushed by them, or we can endure them, lift them up from our shoulders, and overcome them. He has done so well. Ilmater smiles on him. I love him so dearly to my heart… and I miss his own smiles. Be strong a little bit longer, I tell him. This is nearly at an end. Then you will be free to join a knightly order, to step without fear, or worry that you will be unfairly used. Mercy will prevail, it will be lifted from him. So many gather for his sake. His, not mine. For the sake of all who would or have fallen to the Lord of Murder. I am merely the representation of an idea greater than myself. He understands. He takes a small bit of comfort in my words. Often it garners me a small smile and a large hug before he seeks rest. Then as he is safely asleep, I leave word for the guards, and head north to the encampment.

I used to loathe traveling at night. Now I see, of course, that be it sunlight or moonlight, the enemy will come regardless. It doesn’t matter whether I am indoors or out, behind stone walls or not. The only sanctum I have is my faith, and no matter what they do, they will not take that from me. As with all things, it does not stop them from trying. I will not waver, I will not falter. Come what may, I will endure, for I know He Who Endures stands with me. I take comfort, by great measure, that I am never alone. Even when in the halls of those who bear me ill, I am never without my faith. My faith is my strength, it has carried me far, but there are yet many steps in this journey. I have more than faith. I have those dear to me. Dearest to my heart, and truest of friends, allies in numbers greater than I could have hoped. I am blessed, and it is Mercy that has blessed me so. For all the cruelty in the world, there is mercy enough for even me. Mercy will prevail, there is no end but this. Peace will find me, it will find Billy, it will find us all, mercy to all in one measure or another. In the end there is only Mercy.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED THIRTY-THIRD ENTRY]

Maximus has safely returned much to the ease of my mind, and especially Jonas’. Things continue to go smoothly. The field hospital fully functions now, the well is complete. If not for the blasted shaking cause by whatever the Bhaalist are up to, our walls and spirits would be in even better shape. The efforts to gather supplies have gone well, there are many a generous folk. Despite a few skirmishes, things go well, and considering what we face and what we must accomplish in a short time, I am pleased. Mercy indeed smiles upon us.

We were granted a surprise audience with Duke Eltan today too. I likely made a lousy impression. I was too distracted, and too unsure of myself. Even now I fail to see why he and so many others hold me in such high regard. Still, he seemed pleased with our progress. He stated he had made a wise choice in choosing his generals. I have full faith in Maximus and Jonas. I watch them closely, and realize that this is more or less common sense. I take cue from Jonas, and what needs be done, even still, I am far more accustomed to offering comfort and support, than to giving orders. As needs must they say. Needs must.

Alliances are continually made. A few more mercenaries, even those who would join the fight for the sake of all, and not for coin, continue to flock to us. Now we also seem to have the support of the Ironfaar clan, though at this point I am not completely clear on it. We were quite surprised by a large number of walking trees, creatures seeming made of nature itself and various animals and elementals. The druids of the Circle, have offered support as well. At this rate the whole of the coast will stand against Bhaal.

Word reached our ears that the Banite escaped. I imagine we will likely see him, and I wonder which most inopportune time he will choose for his appearance. Perhaps fortune will smile on us and the Banites will stand with the Bhaalists. Then we can kill two birds with one stone, and now that the catapults work properly, I mean that quite literally.

People continue to disregard caution, and think they may take on all of what exists within that foul temple on their own. It has led to us wasting precious resources and time recovering them. If only they would listen. They have the gate to their sanctum well guarded, archers on the walls, and those who survive that, find demons and worse within the courtyard. I have prayed for the safe return of many souls to the land of the living… we have mended many wounds. The irritating part is, it can be prevented. They need not die… at least not yet. The time for sword and spell, to fight, draws near, but we still need to prepare.

Further more, each foolish incursion is met with a skirmish, a retaliating attack. They have sent many assassins for myself and Sir Jonas. Thrice now they have sought to lead us away from the encampment and into a trap. They use demons, undead, these orc looking things Jonas called Orog. They even turned their own catapults on us, we were not well enough prepared for that. It took some time to make ready our own catapults, and many of the less seasoned, and several of the sellswords and adventurers fell, or were badly wounded. We lost a few Fist-man and a few Knights as well. It grieves my heart. Still, the able skill of those on hand led to the demise of the Bhaalist siege weapons, and our overall victory. We then set about with burying the dead, repairing the encampment and re-supplying.

Once things were calm again, I returned to Candlekeep to see to Billy. Dear that he is, ever enduring so well. I will be so glad to see this burden lifted from him. I am sure he wishes nothing more than to see it ended. Bhaal has taken much unfairly from him. Soon he will be free to live as he wants, and not as he must. Soon we will not need to fear every person we do not know, that so much as looks at him wrongly. Soon he may rest without fear, and it is a rest well earned. We had a long conversation about what is to come, and how important it is that he remain safe in the keep. I warned him of the many dangers he faces. I explained each in full, and then patiently answered his questions. I counseled him away from his anger and his want for vengeance as best as I could. He loves and trusts me, and for now that is reason enough for him to heed my wisdom with some measure of contentment. After he went to bed, I left the keep, and left orders that he was not to leave the keep unless it was I who took him in hand. I warned the guards of look-a-likes, tricks, traps, assassins, shadows, everything I could think of. Above all else, Billy must be kept safe. I pray as we prepare for this battle, that it is enough.
~~

I have much to write on. I am sitting here in Jonas’ tent with quill in hand, it is dark, nightfall… and yet I need not light a candle to see the parchment I write upon. I am still in awe of the events, but I must commit them to parchment. I must not forget them, though likely I never will. Something of Ilmater has reached into my very core, and reverberated upon my soul. It is… a daunting feeling. Humbling. Who am I to deserve such a blessing? Who am I to be called Chosen of Ilmater? If I outlived the Elves I do not think that would be enough days for me to feel as though I have earned such.

I stood with Brother Rente and several others counting supplies after a few skirmishes and an exchange of catapult fire, ensuring we are prepared should things heat back up again, when there was a great flash within the encampment. Instinctively I looked to the sky, expecting to see storm clouds for there was also a great rumbling like thunder. As a being took form and the light faded, though still bright, was less sharp. There amid the lot of us stood an angel of immense size and grand beauty that could only be dreamed of.

I was hardly aware of any around me, the bandages in my hands fell and bounced off of my knees and to the ground. I turned to face the creature in awe, I thought surely my knees would give way. That they did not still surprises me. I bowed my head not daring to meet his eyes as he spoke.

‘Merielle… you are a beacon of light in these dark times.’

‘I do only as I am able.’

He smiled then, broadly. The movement of the others within the encampment became little more than peripheral. The exclamations were a dull distant echo on the edge of my senses. The sum of everything was this being before me, and as he spoke his voice resounded as though from a thousand places at once.

‘ -He- wishes to speak with you.’

I took a tentative step forward, my head bowed, for I knew who bid me answer his call, and answer I would.

‘I am ever the willing servant at His bidding.’

I stood and waited while he addressed the others. He seemed pleased that so many had gathered to aid, that so many would stand with us. He moved gracefully about the encampment and spoke:

‘You are all allies of the Triad?’

None spoke, save one, and I watched as Mercy’s infinite patience would come to light, for surely, were it any other but Mercy’s angel, he would have been struck down for his words:

‘Not all of us…’

‘You are not an ally of this group… this army against the darkness?’

‘I am indifferent in this matter.’

He bowed in respect to the angel, and the angel seemed to peer deep within him and frown. The angel turned from him, and looked to Jonas.

‘Sir Jonas… I have a task.’

‘I live to serve…’

Jonas looked up to the angel as smiled down to him briefly. The angel then spoke in the tongue of the celestials. A portal formed and Jonas answered the angel in his own language. Jonas was to guard the portal… The angel returned his gaze to me and spoke yet again, gesturing me forward.

‘ -He- awaits Merielle.’

I nodded to him moving forward, my thoughts tumbled and spun as I approached the portal. My mind screamed this was no dream, and my heart and soul paid heed, though my body was slow to act. I took a steadying breath and stepped through without so much as a backward glance. When I emerged on the other side of the portal, the angel was close at hand. I had seen this place in my dreams… Here I now stood, as I had before, at the base of Mount Martyrdom. This time… this time was no dream. This time was bright daylight, and I was not sleeping. This was no dream, this was no vision… had the others been visions at all? Or had I been beckoned, drawn from my sleep to this place… to stand before Ilmater himself. Now… Here I stood again. I looked to the angel and waited.

‘This way Merielle.’

He walked me up the hillside a bit, and there in all his glory stood Ilmater… and Dianne. My heart soared to see her smiling face again. She grinned brightly and waved to me before slipping her hand into Ilmater’s. Ilmater smiled, that same comfort that found me in previous occasions was now a more than welcome balm to me. I bowed reverently as he spoke.

‘My Chosen, how have you been my child?’

‘I have been well as I can be.’

‘And William?’

‘He does very well given the circumstances. He wishes to join the fighting but understands he cannot be risked. His burdens weigh on him heavily, but he endures so well.’

He looked to me and nodded, a silent acknowledgement that I had done well, and then his smile faded, his face became most serious as he regarded me. I felt my breath catch as I waited for him to speak.

‘Do you remember the name? That foul name that is not to be uttered here?’

‘I do my lord. I have kept it within my mind all this time, as you bid.’

As he spoke his face was grave… sadness touched his features. I dreaded the words that would come, but listened quietly, nodding when needs must, but not daring to speak.

‘That name… Holds power… Power of release. During this ritual… the Vile One will look to consume the soul of the vessel. Should he get it…’

His voice trailed off, a tear slipped down his cheek. In that moment I think my heart broke. For what comfort could I offer to the one who comforts all? Every fiber in my being, to the depths of my core wished nothing more than to ease the pain he felt, and simultaneously I knew there was nothing I could do, save my duty… see my oaths fulfilled that would ease such.

‘…That name. It will release the vessel’s soul. Release it unto me. Do you understand Merielle?’

‘I… I do… my lord.’

‘It is the soul of the vessel that grants him his strength… Strength to take hold, strength to spread his foulness across Toril. Know, my child, I will not let any harm come to the soul of William should you need to use that… name.’

‘I shall do my best to see it is not needed.’

His smile returned at my resolute answer. I was glad to see it. I took strength in it, knowing I had the means to ensure all were kept safe from Bhaal… one way or the other, Mercy would prevail.

‘I am ever watching over you Merielle. I know your faith is true, and you do not waver. Call unto me in the days to come. I will send my angels to you should you need it.’

My eyes widened. Such boons were so rarely offered, and should be used wisely, for such things only happen once in many lifetimes. Truly our tasks were great for him to offer such. He spoke to Dianne, bidding her remain with the angel and gestured me back to the portal that Jonas guarded.

‘I thank you greatly for such, My Lord Ilmater.’

‘Come my Chosen. I must return you where you are needed.’

‘Of course.’

I nodded to him, giving the angel his due respect. I then turned and smiles at Dianne. She waved good-bye, and smiled back. In that smile was all the joy of the world… all the joy of every child at peace. I would leave this place again. I prayed silently as we walked to the portal, that I was as alive the next time I found my way here as now. For ahead of us loomed a great battle, many would fall, and I prayed Mercy to keep them… Mercy to us all. Was it this silent prayer that kept Ilmater at my side as we stepped through the portal? Who could say the will of the gods?

‘Through the portal now Merielle.’

And with no hesitation, I stepped. He could have asked me to walk all the Hells and the Infinite Abyss, and I would have gladly, but he bid me return whence I had come, and I did so gladly. When I found myself back in the camp, Ilmater stood at my side. He bid me one last command with a loud booming voice that shook all to the core, the whole of existence seemed to echo with is voice.

‘Now go my Chosen, and let Mercy guide your steps!’

What happened next is hard to explain. In one overwhelming moment I felt his hand on my shoulder. Not in the figurative way one views the support of their god… his Hand lay upon my shoulder. I was filled with such overwhelming calm and peace… so much at once. It felt as if all the realms… all the Multi-verse seemed to pause, and I thought surely my heart and soul would burst from the sheer volume of emotion… From the shuddering of my being I though surely I would be rend to pieces. The portal faded, and long after he had left my side, I felt his presence. I could not move… I could not speak… I dared not. At that moment if I moved or spoke, breathed, or even allowed my heart half a beat… that I would shatter. I slowly became aware of the world around me… the sounds and sights and smells … the very sensation of existence creeping back to me. I closed my eyes as the dizzying energy worked through me. Finally the voice of Jonas reached me and I opened them.

‘Sister Meri?’

His face was a mask of concern, and I smiled, if only to ease his mind. Thoughts came slowly, and my words seemed to echo through my own ears. I felt near tears… but not the tears of sadness, or pain… At last, I found the will to speak.

‘It is well. The Hand of Mercy is at our backs!’

I stood there, even after agreeing to need rest, to write. Jonas bid me go to his tent, to take my time, and still my feet were slow to obey. I heard whispers of halos… of angels and of Saints… prayers and hopes… the din of those preparing for the battle to come… so much. I thought surely it would be my undoing. I made my way musingly to the tent. I spent hours in prayer. Now finally I write, committing to memory this as I have every other moment of great note. This possibly the greatest of all.

Battle would come swiftly now. The time to prepare was drawing to a close. Mercy will prevail. We will not falter! There is much still to do. I shall see to my tasks. The encounter has left me greatly renewed. Greatly strengthened. There is much to do… and I should see to what I am able. The whole thing seems to have lifted the spirits of many. If that is the mercy I can now offer, then so be it.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND THIRTY-FOURTH ENTRY]

[The page is full of hastily scrawled notes about the repair and operation of a catapult, methods for shoring walls, trussing large siege equipment to prevent it from sinking in the mud. Various other notes hastily scrawled on supply lists... Names and descriptions of various enemies that have breached the encampment. Most of the page is smudged with dirt and ash, flecks of blood. There are however a few legible points, though the hand writing is jagged, written by an exhausted hand, and a weary mind.]

...How many days now? At least three...

... Supplies were low... Jonas was away, sent Rente and Tamara... may they hurry. Jonas said he will take care of it later...

...they are broken. Master Foggy is sure they can be fixed... but he needs help... Where is everyone? ...

...The Fools! Why do they not listen?! How many must die before they understand why we have ordered them to stay away... At this rate we will be down by half our supplies before we breach the walls... Mercy of Ilmater...

... they keep fighting among themselves... too much drinking... hid some... angry but sober and ready for battle now...

...I am even more certain now that the Bhaalist wizard is indeed Thayan... Billy is Safe... the City... As few as possible... Going near the temple -hurt- him! Mercy of Ilmater, give him the strength to endure...

...Dreams of battles... of angels...

... Blasted rain! We are going to drown in the mud. One of the catapults got stuck and started to sink... thank goodness for golems I guess!...

...Impatient... but they must understand... We will not fail! We will not Falter. The worst is yet to come, but we can endure! Mercy will prevail I know this. I do not question what is fact. They will see in time... they will understand. Mercy is in the end of all things... even war...
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED THIRTY-FOURTH ENTRY]

Alright. Finally. Things are quiet. Time to rest. Lesson learned… Mercy of Ilmater. I knew better, was out-numbered. It -won’t- happen again. Though I may never hear the end of it. Poor Jonas and the others were so exhausted by the time the barrage of fire stopped coming from both sides, the only difference between ours and theirs was that ours would work tomorrow. I didn’t dare bother them for something so simple as getting bandages. I knew better. But… I walked a way with some wounds, but nothing that won’t mend by morning.

We ready for battle. Mercy of Ilmater be with us. Their siege weapons seem gone. We finally broke through their wards. People finally started taking our warnings to avoid the place more seriously. The attacks were handled better too. We finally were getting a strategy of sorts. Experience really is the best teacher. Spirits were drawn after the long and exhausting skirmishes. Mercy of Ilmater keep us strong, do not let their faith waver now. We have come so far… fought so hard. Mercy will prevail. We need only endure.

Some Brothers arrived to transcribe, I was a bit too tired to understand it all. It has to do with Ilmater… But that part that had us worried… Maximus disappeared in a cloud of light and smoke. The last several days had worn us thin. We worried that it was some sort of trick. Some sort of Bhaalist attempt to demoralize us, a trap or something to force us to attack…

‘Mercy of Ilmater… please… keep him well.’

The prayer ran through my mind as I sought focus, and I was granted an answer.

‘It will be done my child.’

And the panic left me. Simple as that. Wherever he was, whatever was done, he would be safe. So we tended to the defenses still worried of an attack.

But several hours later he returned. Safe and sound. He thought it nothing more than a dream. It was not, and he slowly realized that he had not dreamed, but faced his path and come from it strengthened. Renewed, and his blade prepared for the coming battle. There is still much to learn but he is safe. That is what matters.

Jonas and I have situated some strategy, inventory has been taken. Mercy of Ilmater willing… we are as ready as we can be. They are as ready as they can be. The battle will be fierce. I sat quietly trying to still my mind after battles and meals, and whispered a quiet prayer as had become near constant of late…

‘Merciful Ilmater, my faith is strong, but today I watched the faith of others falter. Help me keep them strong. We have come too far to waver now…’

I felt the peace that is the Crying Lord wash over me, the comfort of Mercy, and took to heart his reply.

‘I am ever watching my Chosen. Mercy will guide your steps…’

And it shall. Mercy will prevail. First though, we must rest for there is much to do.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[pressed between this page and the next is a bloody scrap of cloth that wraps around some pressed wild-flowers. There are drawings done by Billy's hand carefully folded into the binding.]

[ONEHUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIFTH ENTRY]

By all that is Mercy it is over! I should sleep, gods know I need it… There are so many thoughts… so many. They jumble. So I set quill to parchment and pray that sense is made of the last few days. After walking this path for so long, it feels strange to finally stop… to take no step because none are required. I wonder what path next my feet shall take up? What path and task yet waits for me to attend? For now, there is time to rest. I can hardly believe it at a close. There were no doubts in my mind that we would reach the end. Though we did our best to see we came to the end with Billy mine to hold… it was… Bittersweet. Indeed, Billy is safe, for all the days between now and the end of eternity, Billy is safe. Mercy of Ilmater… I thank you infinitely for that mercy my lord. He is not mine to hold, and perhaps never was. He is Mercy’s Child, as was all along. Still we were told to try. And try we did. There is no failing in it, even if it is not the ending we hoped for.

To further the dual nature of this victory… many have died, so very many. There will be many funeral services. I would like to attend them each. I feel it is the least that can be done for those who gave all they had for this cause. It will take days for the mess of battle to be cleansed. The catapult fire back and forth has left the road a jagged mess of mud, blood, stone and cindered boards. The camp will be dismantled, that which can be reused and repurposed will be. I sprinkled daisy and poppy seeds about, some lavender and chamomile, I know not all of them will take root and sprout, but even a bit here and there, in this symbolic gesture, would balm my own heart. A showing that time and patience, mercy, mends all things.

My heart cannot help but grieve Billy in a sorts. I know they both rest with Ilmater, but the selfish corner of my heart wishes them here. To see Dianne choose her path as a healer, to see Billy a knight valiant in Ilmater’s service. I have her doll, and now his knight. Treasures that I will ever hold dear to me. The Crying Lord whispers comforts to me. That he will ever keep them, that they are forever beyond pain and suffering, for all of the eternities, they will be of truest Mercy there on Mount Martyrdom. Some day, I will see them again, and my heart is content in that. Perhaps… all this time, the meadow I saw them play in, amid hills and flowing sunlight, were not here at all… perhaps it is the slopes of Mrtyrdom that they dwell upon. The smiling and laughing faces of brother and sister, playing… as children should, without worry or care… taint or pain.

I will start a wreath for Billy, as I did Dianne… and weave one for the Fallen who stood with us in that battle. The battle will haunt my dreams for a long time to come. I still remember the fear and anguish that gripped me when the messenger came to tell me that Billy had been snatched away. I could have swore the Multiverse stopped, I know my heart did. In that moment I think my very soul broke in half. I knew in my heart so long as he could be kept safe, we could keep him… and I knew in that moment, that it was not meant to be. Blame could be passed about, anger could be thrown carelessly, but it would serve nothing. No… I hold none at fault for the end we found. It is as it is, and no amount of negative emotion can change it.

We battled for days, our catapults exchanged fire, and skirmishes were many. We watched as the foolish, and the overly confident, and the brave tried to storm the temple gates only to be cruelly cut down. Then we watched and we prayed as they were recovered. I am not a priestess, or a battle cleric. Not really much of a fighter. The use of divine energy that flows through me is tiring after so long. I do not work with prepared prayers, but by force of my own will and soul, and the days at the encampment were beyond draining. Yet each stolen moment of rest was just enough to keep me standing. I did not realize how straining the battles had been until I at last sat still. Near the end, it took all my will to find the strength to continue. By the Mercy of He Who Endures, we did all of us, find the strength and the will to endure.

What we had endured thus far was nothing compared to what we had yet to face. As the call to arms went out, I prayed more feverishly than ever before. I could sense at the core of my soul that time was against us. They had Billy, and were moving their forces to see to it that we did not reclaim him. The time for sword and spell song was indeed at hand. Passed was the time to wait, to prepare and endure… now was the time to stand and to fight. A great sound resounded as Jonas blew the war horn and we pressed our attack. The battle was intense as we inched our way through blood and mud, the rain had at least stopped, and for now the catapult fire seemed over. There were screams. Threats and cries of pain, battle calls… mixed with the sound of arcanists calling down fierce magics, and diviners calling on their gods and their prayers to aid the battle as we inched painful inch by painful inch through the temple courtyard.

‘Jonas! We need to get inside! Now… please. They have Billy!’

I wonder if he heard the desperation and the fear in my voice as I struggled to mend his wounds. Blood was everywhere. My own as well as the blood of those I mended in battle, blood of the enemy. I was helpless to save all who were falling. Desperate prayers left my lips as we all did the best we could. There were so many of them, dearest mercies… War is a horrid thing! Mercy of Ilmater forgive me all that happened… were it not for me standing against the Bhaalists all those months ago… none of it would happen…

Then again, Bhaal would now walk the realms, and that would be a fate far worse than this. We reached the temple door and found more fighting within. We fought and fought. Every time I thought we would fall, or collapse from wounds or exhaustion, my prayers were answered and we found the strength to continue. A creature stood before us and bid that only ten could continue forward. It was with a heavy heart that we left the battle behind us to face the task ahead. Jonas and I chose quickly and our meager group moved forward. We fought our way through to the depths of the temple… to the inner sanctum and what I saw there chilled my heart and soul. A woman stood over Billy… draining his blood and life from him. The depth and strength of the emotions that worked through me then threatened to undo me as the woman spoke and we countered with our own defiance.

A shadow and darkness overtook the alter where Billy lay. Mercy of Mercies I -felt- his life leaving him as surely as it were I who lay on that alter. The priestess over Billy laughed cruelly as the form took on the essence of the Lord of Murder. I stepped forward. I knew now that Billy and I would not have that hillside house… that I would not watch him grow to a fine young man… but I also knew what had to be done. It sickened me… to see them there with him. This child, who calls to me as his mother… The thing spoke and his words were enough to summon a cry from my own spent form. My mouth was dry and I felt as though I had died a hundred times and were still standing, and prayers… so many prayers tumbled through my mind… Every word ever spoken to me by my lord… Protect his soul at all costs… do not let Bhaal have him… I focused on the thing as it spoke:

‘Now that I am here...Destroy these mortals while I consume the soul of the child.’

The others readied for battle as the minions of Bhaal moved to carry out the wish of their god. I felt their blades, felt the wounds I was taking, but cared not… I stayed focused on the creature before me. Bhaal. The Lord of Murder… and -my- son… Mercy’s Child. I answered. I spoke above the din of the fighting and in a voice clear and true, with a strength I knew not that I possessed.

‘DAMERION BHAALZATEN! YOU WILL NOT HAVE MERCY’S CHILD!’

As the creatures grasp on Billy was released… I felt the taint lifted from the boy even as I felt the last of his life slip away. The name could do as promised, force Bhaal to let go of, rather than consume Billy's soul. Effectively stopping the ritual. The last chance, desperate course taken. I invoked the name, knowing it meant that I would never keep this child as my own. Suddenly the fact that I was beset by foes became painfully clear, and one last painful plea left my lips as I felt myself falling into the darkness… into death.

‘Ilmater! Let me not fail you!’

I knew in that last breath before I fell, that Billy was safe. I knew also that I was to fall here, and it did not matter, so long as Billy was safe. I summoned my energies and let it burst from me, hoping to damage the enemy badly enough to give the others a chance to win the battle. At all costs… and it was done… My oath fulfilled. Death would not hold me this day however. I felt a sensation tugging at me. A small hand in my own, and a familiar presence bidding me return to life. I blinked and drew a great breath as I stood up in the Bhaalist sanctum and there stood Billy’s spirit.

‘I am free now Merielle… Free. I’m … Sorry.’

Tears ran down his face as he spoke. I moved to wipe the ethereal tears from his ghostly face.

‘Oh dearest… You have nothing to be sorry for love. -I- am the one who is sorry love. There is one promise I failed to keep. I promised you could be a knight love. Can you forgive me? I love you dearest…’

‘Ilmater calls to me, and I am not afraid any more.’

I nodded to him and smiled even as my heart broke slowly in a way I could not explain.

‘When you see Dianne love, give her a hug for me?’

‘I will. We will be waiting for you. This was written before time began… I am sorry…’

‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’

With that his spirit faded. Whispered comforts from Ilmater sought me out. Slowly I turned to the others. The others were dismayed he was not still living, and I explained to them that we had not failed. He was safe… His soul was safe… no matter the cost. Even if it cost his own life… his soul was safe. That was all that mattered. There was not however time to dwell on it. The temple began to crumble around us and we made a hurried flight to the exit. I was led along mutedly, numb… the numbness was shattered quickly by the sight before me… the remnants of the battle, the fallen and the wounded… the bodies of enemy and ally alike… The Bhaalists were fleeing, quickly. Jonas sounded the horn for our victory… Mercy … Had prevailed.

I spoke a few words to all that had stood before going back to the camp to rest. The rest of the day was a blur. Many spoke of the honor it was to serve in this cause, to fight at my side. Many spoke praise to me that I felt undeserved, unearned. Jonas was knighted and granted status, the mercenaries collected their pay and went on to the next adventure. Healers tended wounded, priests recalled the dead, cleanup began. Bently Mirrorshade spoke of his inn that he would build. They asked about Billy, spoke of the battle, all who could sought rest and peace. I did not realize until it all had passed and was quiet, just how loud thing had been for the last several days. It was in that quiet that a whispered prayer left my lips.

‘My oath fulfilled my lord. Please forgive me if my heart grieves as a mother grieves a lost child…’

In the silence I hear Billy and Dianne laugh, and I closed my eyes holding onto that moment tightly as a shudder worked through me and a sob threatened to escape me. It was then that I felt the gentle comfort that is Ilmater wash over me, and a whisper, gentle, in reply came to me then. A balm to my heart and soul, and I took comfort in it.

‘They are ever safe now my Chosen...Let your heart rest easy…’

There would be many more prayers, many more conversations, some good, some bad… but there would be peace. Bhaal’s faithful no longer held sway over the lands. Mercy had prevailed. Time and patience, a gentle hand, would mend the wounds, both figurative and literal. The land too would heal with time and care. I will rest at Candlekeep a day or two before making my way back to the temple. This task had come to a close, but there would yet be much work to do. I will rest, that I may face the tasks ahead. I am and will ever be, the Willing Servant of Ilmater. Though he call me Chosen, and others call me the Beacon of Mercy… I am little more than a humble healer with a will to do as needs must. For now I will try to seek rest… Mercy that my dreams will be more gentle than they have been in the past.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND THIRTY-SIXTH ENTRY]

I rested peacefully. I woke to calm and quiet. I lay there a long moment not daring to open my eyes lest it be a dream. It was however no dream. I was safe and sound in Candlekeep. Safer than I had dared think myself in a long time. This morning however, there would be no lessons. There would be no walk with Billy as we talked about everything from daffodils to sword fights. There was a heaviness in my heart, and I knew there was yet one thing I needed to do. I went out, spent the morning gathering wild flowers of all sorts, all colors. I left in the wake of what I gathered, new seeds. Always for every end is merely a new beginning, until at last there is only mercy.

I spoke to Valerius, who has re-extended the previous invitation for me to stay at the keep. To run the infirmary. I told him I would tend to things at the temple in the city before making up my mind. No doubt there is much to do there, and I do so miss the home I have there. Selah seems more than amused by my new found notoriety, and even more amused by my insistence it is undeserved. I am treated with more reverence and nobility than I could earn in an Elf’s lifetime! Still, I am unable to dissuade them from their fawning, bowing and undue respect. I am as I have ever been, a mere healer. I have done great enough things, but so have many. Nothing I have done, I could have done without my faith, my God, and perhaps that is the differential factor… This aura of light, another symbol of an honor I will endeavor to earn in my days. Blessed am I truly, and I know this. May whatever come, come, I will ever be Ilmater’s Willing Servant.

I scattered more seeds about the battle grounds… The road is still little more than a stone littered trench now between the encampment and the ruined temple. I then spent a good deal of the day weaving the wreath of flowers for Billy, as I had done for his sister, as I had done for so many others. A remembrance, a reminder that all things come full circle, that which is lost to us, that which is dear will find a way back to us. I wove two flowers for every joyous memory I held and at last tied it up with a white bow. I then took a break from conversation and musings. Readied the wreath to let go when the tides come in, that it may drift well away when the tides go back out.

Wythran came to me then. Another of his surprises. Another distraction. He does not view me with the pomp or circumstance that others do. He sees me ever as I have been, as Meri, as a friend. Yet another small mercy the Elven man affords me. We began to take down the walls to the encampment, one giant log at a time. This elf, for all his lack in social graces, understands much more of mercy than he dares admit to. Indeed it was a mercy he had granted me in this. He knows I like to keep busy, and can appreciate good work. This work, was a balm of sorts, to see it come full circle. One log at a time to close a dark chapter in my life, in the lives of many, to mend. I worked until I could no longer summon the strength to do so. Jonas and some others came to pass. He offered to walk me to Candlekeep, and remarked on the lack of need for such. True it may well have been ceremony, but I did not mind it so much.

Speaking of ceremony. The wooden sword that Myhun had given Billy, is now wrapped carefully with the wooden knight on his steed, that Tarnok had carved. Tucked safely there is the doll I made for Dianne, the stuffed cat I made, drawings the children had done, and the drawings of them I had done. The drawing called ‘Hope’ of the children playing in the meadow… now painted and framed. Their smiling faces amid the wildflowers, and I know now, that it was more than hope… it was Faith.

The sun began to settle as we neared the keep, and there was but one more thing to do before I sought sleep. I turned from the road, to the cliff side. So much like a shrine to Ilmater the small place had come. The peace I found in the hours I would spend there. To let my tears disappear to the sea, let my anger and frustrations be carried from me by the winds, to sit in the quiet of it, see the patience of the water, the endurance of the stone, to know all things circle round, until at last there is only the peace of Mercy, and I can hear the whisperings of my heart, and the answers of my faith. Yes… this my shrine, my solace in the darkest of days past.

I secured the pillow to the center of the wreath. Quietly, with whispered prayers, I let it loose. I watched as it come to rest in the water below without disturbing a single flower petal. As Dianne’s, it blessedly missed the rocks. Jonas saluted, and the others were thoughtfully quiet. Jonas then spoke something in celestial. All was quiet for a time, even my thoughts had stilled. I finally turned from the water. A wave of sadness threatened to over come me and I spoke more to remind myself than anything…

‘As with all things that the sea carries away, eventually, somehow they return… I will see them again.’

It was then I heard the laughter of the children, and felt a gentle tugging of my robes. I looked down, half expecting to see them there, and perhaps they were, for I heard them speak as surely as I saw the moon in the night sky above me.

‘We love you Merielle’

‘I love you too darlings…’

With that… so closed one chapter, and my heart found peace. Not all endings are the endings we wish for, but they are the endings we need. I promised a place for the children. I have work to do. I have many dear friends, dare I say that some are as dear as any family. I will seek my next path, my next task, or rather, allow it to find me as I always have. Tomorrow I will return to the temple. Tomorrow things begin anew. I go forward with a hopeful heart. In all things I am content, and tonight I seek rest. There is much still to do.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED THIRTY-SEVENTH ENTRY]

Return to the temple indeed! Dearest Mercy! As in all my days I remember… I do not seek the path, but the path seeks me. This day was no exception. I woke from a restless night’s sleep, my exhaustion no longer enough to keep the nightmares of the past at bay… and of late there are new horrors to fill the night hours. Each face… and I cannot help but wonder if they regret dying for this cause. Many times, since the end of the battle, I have heard the question:

‘Why didn’t you just kill him and deliver him to Ilmater?’

Because it was not my place. Because I was not bid to do so… I did as I should, and can not question the rightness of obedience now. Some call it selfishness… Some hate me for it… though most understand, and there are those willing to forgive. Some see it as surely as it were my hand that slain children in their beds, some lay the blame solely on Bhaal. Some were glad for the battle, some were not. Always it will be thus. Always there will be some on one side or the other, and I can only act in my faith. As my heart and my god bid, so I shall do. I am saddened that it cost so much… I wonder did they regret it once death had passed on to them? Were it in my power to recall all from death, that they may live and enjoy this peace I yet would. For now… all we can do is pick up the pieces and pray Mercy that time will mend that which is broken.

It was these sullen thoughts that were shattered when a messenger came to me over breakfast. He bid me return to the temple with haste. My presence was urgently requested. I immediately expected trouble, but the boy merely grinned and said I should hurry. So I did. I finished my toast and drank my tea before the boy had left the inn. A short time later I was packed and out the gates. My mind wondered at the summons… What new trouble lay in wait?

My worry grew by measure when I ran into Brother Rente on the Tradeway headed North. His anxious expression did not serve to ease my mind. Though his words eased what his face did not.

‘Brother Rente. Pray all is well?’

‘It is Sister. It is indeed.’

Though my relief was short lived as the conversation continued.

‘There is a great man of the Church who has come to the temple. He sent me to get you and bring you to the Shrine. Father Melder Rythtin of the Healing Hand..... do you know him?’

Dearest Mercies… The High Priest of the largest Ilmatari temple in all of Faerûn? What in all the mercies, great or small could have him seeking me… As I have done much in recent events I half expected the worst. Though worry was replaced by rapt curiosity as my exclamations drew a faint smile from Rente. The rest of the journey to the temple was filled with he trying to not give away his big secret. I knew well he was hiding something, but it was not my place to pry. No doubt I would find out soon enough. It was nearly amusing to see one as inept with mistruth as myself, still make a valiant attempt. Indeed I had long learned the difference between truth and lie were mere words. Though sometimes a well placed truth garners less curiosity than a badly placed lie.

At last we arrived at the temple. I was greeted by the giddy smiles of the Sisters, Brother Rente was practically beside himself with barely contained cheer. When I thought surely my curiosity would end me, there we were in the sanctum of the temple, amid a rather large and prestigious gathering. It was Father Melder who spoke first as I looked on uneasily.

‘Brother Rente...you've returned. And you've brought Her… with you…’

The assembly bowed their heads as I entered, which served to puzzle me greatly. I looked to Brother Marcus for some sort of guidance, but his eyes did not meet my own. Father Melder sounded nearly as nervous as I felt. My posture respectful, and my own head bowed I spoke uncertainly:

‘I was told my presence was requested sir?’

‘Yes... Please S… sister Merielle... come forward. I am Father Melder of the Healing Hand… High Priest of the Church of the Broken God... It is an honor to meet you in the flesh… I am humbled in your presence…’

Honored? Humbled by me? The most noted figure of the Ilmatari, and he speaks of being humbled by I? A lowly healer… and not even the greatest of these. No valiant knight or skilled monk, no battle priestess… and he is humbled an honored by my presence?

‘It is you who greatly honor me sir.’

‘Sister, you have spoken with -Him- ?’

At the moment he asked the question, I looked uneasily at the others in the room. I thought surely this would be a battling of words as I sought to justify my position as I had to Brother Rente and Sister Abby. I missed the forest for the trees so to speak. None the less I prepared my defenses and readied to answer more questions.

‘I have sir, yes.’

Even with his head bowed, I could see Brother Marcus’ smile. I imagine if I had looked behind me I would have seen Rente grinning ear to ear as Father Melder spoke.

‘We received word from Brother Rente of your accomplishments. You are a blessing to the church... Brother James noted your doings against the Vile One... you truly are a beacon of light…’

I blinked. I had not expected this. I spoke quietly, had there been any sound at all my words would have been lost to it.

‘I did only as needs must to fulfill the wish of Ilmater sir.’

Nothing I could have done would have aptly prepared me for what he said next. How I remained standing was an act of the Hand of Mercy itself.

‘Those of the Church have chose to grant you the title of Saint... You are the first living of your kind Saint Merielle. You are the beacon this Church needs through times of Darkness... You are Merielle Williams the Living Saint. It will be written in history of your deeds during the Siege against Murder... You will be remembered for all time.’

I stood shocked by what I had heard. Humbled… Floored. He smiled over me, the others were looking on joyfully, and as they all began to bow… To me? To me? Why? I floundered. My composure lost to me as I struggled to form words.

‘I don't... I do not know how to answer to that sir. Sir my tasks and doings were no greater than those who fought at my side... my sacrifice no greater than those who gave their lives for this... You honor me far greater than I yet deserve.’

Perhaps greater than I could ever deserve in any lifetime… many lifetimes… Dearest Mercy… I was dreaming or something. Surely nothing I had done was so great to deserve such a thing. Saint?! Truly? Innocents died because of my actions. Children. Husbands, wives, sons and daughters, sisters and brothers… had died because I stood in defiance… because I placed the life of one child and one soul over all others. I did only as commanded by Ilmater. I did the best I could, and it still was not good enough to protect all of them. Yet they still called me saint? His next words told me that no amount of arguing would dissuade them. Indeed it was set.

‘We ask for a relic. Something that embodies you. We will take this relic to the Church of the Broken God in Keltar. There it will be kept in reverence. Normally it would be taken from the fallen martyr. This... is different. Choose your relic Saint Merielle, and place it on the floor at your feet.’

A relic? My pack was still at my feet. A bit dumbfounded I looked to it. My journal, several cases full of drawings and paintings, a case full of notes, herbs, supplies for making of potions, tinctures, and the like. Many bandages, the tea set that I traveled with… and the holy symbol Jonas had given me. Likely the only thing I even had of real value. Finely crafted of Mithril, but it held more sentimental value than gold value. He had given it to me not long after I had restored his mind. The embodiment of the good I try to do. A symbol of a solid friendship, that had only been further forged by the battle. It would honor the friendship, as well as my faith, and serve well what Father Melder asked of me. I drew it carefully from my pack and set it down.

‘A gift from my guardian…’

He nodded and bid me bless it before he came and took it up. He smiled as he looked it over. This symbol of all that is Mercy. Of second chances, forgiveness, kindness, friendship, it shone with hope’s very light. Indeed this represented everything I had been taught… it represented so much… that precious gift.

‘This will be kept till the ends of time, safe within the hands of Ilmater.’

I nodded to him, and watched astonished as he bowed to me. I wanted to pull them each to their feet. Draw them up, that I may bow to him as is proper… to be placed to high, so undeserving of it… was nearly more than I could wrap my mind around.

‘Bless you Saint Merielle. May Mercy guide your steps.’

‘May Mercy keep you well sir.’

Rente asked to step forward. He addressed the Father and I. I waited for Father Melder to bid him forward… and instead he looked to me in question. I blinked.

‘Of course... he need not have my bidding to act as his heart bids.’

None needed such. Who was I to command any, to bid them come and go? I was nothing. Surely not one to ask such of another. Rente approached slowly and kneeled. No doubt I looked horrified… I was in a sense. What in all the Mercies was happening? And Why? This could not be right. There was a mistake. Mine was not such a place of high honor. Further still it was not my place to refuse… If the Highest of High priests had bid me stand on my head I would have… no questions asked. This task was perhaps more difficult but could be met with no less respect.

‘My Saint, I pledge my sword, my heart and my service to your will, forever forward to the end of time in your service, if you will have it.’

The weight of his words fell upon me and I realized that all in the room were looking to me to answer him. I spoke, choked, and through carefully chosen words.

‘Brother Rente... it would do me greater honor to see that pledge to one deserving of it, to see you serve He Who Endures... for I am, and ever will be the willing servant. What you offer is not mine to take, but nor will I dishonor your spirit by turning you away friend. Please… you needn’t bow…’

He stood and smiled. My words honored him, and he spoke of such. He spoke of great gratitude. Father Melder said he would take the Relic… That too sounded strange to me. … to Keltar in the morning. I was distantly aware of Rente offering me tea, and it was several moments before my thoughts and composure found some semblance of order again. I don’t know how long after the others had gone to tend their duties, that I sat in prayer, but eventually I rose.

When I emerged there was Joan, who was rather amused by my change in status, and even more amused that I felt unworthy of it. Joan did, as she always has, and sought to offset my mood with her humor. Several hours later, and after many conversations… in which Joan relished correcting my introductions lacking my new title, I felt a bit more at ease. Selah and Joan and I took several hours to marvel at the audacity of the male ego passing wry wit amongst ourselves.

As many went separate ways, Selah and I sought some place quiet to talk. Blessed am I to call one such as she sister. The conversation was a difficult one. She put to words the thoughts that had troubled me through the morning hours, and in many hours since the end of the battle. Tired as I was, I found my thoughts running circles around my words… and sought to keep my bearings. Some time later, things as resolved as they may ever be, though many questions unanswered… Selah went to tend her duties, and I to mine. I spent more time in prayer and thought. Sleep would not find me so I went to the temple. I baked until just before dawn. When morning comes, they shall have apple muffins and honey cakes to enjoy. I made enough to likely feed an army. And at last, exhausted… I sought rest.

Now it is again morning… and I wonder what this day yet holds. Trust your faith Meri. It is your strength. Trust your path, difficult though it may be. Time reveals all mysteries, Mercy mends all wounds. There is much yet to do. Today I will walk as I once walked before… the Tradeway, and aid where I can. For now this is my path, and I can be content with it.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED THIRTY-EIGHTH ENTRY]

The past can be a hard thing to bury when it is spurned to the surface by hatred and anger… a thirst for blood and vengeance. The days had passed peacefully since the battle. I spent most nights at the temple. Most days I would walk the Tradeway offering aid where I could. Sleep refused me solace. I still could not pass the smoldering ruin of the Bhaal temple without cringing. Images that would haunt my thoughts a while I am sure. Most understood I had done as I had to, that we had done as much as we could before the Bhaalists had forced hands, but there were those that did not. They were indeed right. Death of so many was unjustified, undeserved. The blame lay not in Ilmater, but Bhaal. Still because Ilmater was blamed by some, harshly. Just as there were wounded bodies and land to heal, so too would hearts and souls. Gentle mercy, will in time, mend what murder has wrought.

I rested at the merchant camp near the edge of the city. I ate some jerky and dried fruit, passing conversation with those who passed by. Maximus was there for a time, as was Dara. I showed them the painting I had begun half a tenday after they had wed… So much time has passed since then. Unfortunately the span of time had not been kind recently. I felt myself frayed, so I took out some embroidery. My agitation only increased as I couldn’t seem to not try and stitch my finger into the work. It didn’t help that there was no shortage of irritating fools about. Mostly drunkards that lacked the sense to step away from their cups. I found my temper a bit difficult to keep in check. Came so close to slapping a man that I could feel the hairs on his face before I halted. Maybe I should take a Plea… but I am wary of dropping my guard so much as that would ask of me.

Sister Abby had begun her Plea of Rest, and was quite enjoying herself. Joan was seeing to her amusements… of course this was after Selah saw to Joan’s constant -boredom- which was rather amusing for the three of us. First Joan was a newt, then a pixie and even a bunny. What a trio we make. Joan took Sister Abby for a makeover of sorts, found her a rather lovely dress. After a bit more conversation, Joan took Abby for drinks and chocolate. Seeing so many cheered did much to ease my spirits, as did Tamara’s knack for music and kindness. I shall fix her dress, since it was ruined in the battle. Make it something nice, after all, she deserves a lift in spirits too.

The sky began to fill with clouds, and it looked like rain. Many sought activities indoors. While I had given up on embroidery for the sake of my finger, I and a few others didn’t mind the rain that loomed. Siveyn and Rysdan were having some sort of a debate. I mistook for barbed, veiled argument. There were worse things than storm clouds on the horizon. I had decided again to try the embroidery simply because I couldn’t bear sitting idle, and with rain due, drawing was not a good idea. I absently listened to the conversation between the two elves. The breeze had begun to pick up, and a gust brought with it a sound that chilled the whole of me. A familiar laugh of a shadow of the past thought dead and gone.

I could not say how long I sat there trying to convince myself that my exhausted mind was now playing tricks on me. He was dead. The ash of his remains scattered to the winds. He wouldn’t be coming back. Surely the Vile One’s Shadow sat at the feet of his lord, the lot of them licking the wounded egos they had been left with in death. I had blessed the body, made return all but impossible. It was so unlikely… it would take an act of the Gods for him to walk again… Yes. I was tired, my mind was manifesting nightmares in my waking moments simply because I refused to allow it to do so in sleep. Not only was I tired, but at that moment my embroidery needle run clear through my finger and my glove. I stared at it, wondering why I did not feel it. I was pale and my hands shook as I cut the thread. I pulled the thread back out and put the needle away staring at my hands.

I slowly became aware of the concern of the two elves. I shrugged it off, offered a not so reassuring smile, and tried to regain my composure while the pair looked about the camp. I had myself nearly convinced of the impossibility of him being there when Rysdan held up a very familiar trinket. A flask, gilded with jewels and fine metals, and filled with a very strong poison. I stared at the unabashed threat. My mind screamed against it. My heart prayed for some other explanation. That small span of peace since the fall of the temple… shattered by a whisper in my ear. The completeness, the irrational and un-quelled control of that fear had taken of my heart… I couldn’t even move. It was so quick a thing. In all I have faced, it seems silly in retrospect that I would be drawn to such.

In one instant he was so close that I could smell the stinkweed that faintly permeated the Hin’s clothes. A whisper, so quiet that it was barely even a whisper met my ear and ran down my spine, leaving a cold numbness in its wake. He was so close in that moment that he could have crawled in my ear by batting an eyelash. For an instant I am not even sure I drew breath. The two sat down on either side of me and the presence faded. They continued to converse, their eyes watching about. They wouldn’t see him. No one usually does. Someone saw him once. Once in months, and he died… How then now did I hear that insidious promise:

‘You will pay Meri… you will pay.’

When the soul leaves work unfinished. It finds a way to return, as needs must. The only thing that can be more compelling than duty was hate and vengeance. Siveyn was worried I was now the target of some ne’er do well seeking to kill someone prestigious… like a living saint. HA! Were it only so simple. No… my blood was sought by one who would no doubt have such singular hate that even death did not keep him. Bid back by his god to seek recompense for the shattered ego of the Lord of Murder… The Chosen of Bhaal… Shadow of the Vile One… In the next instant as I finally found the strength to draw a breath and whisper a prayer, I smelled the stink of him just before I felt the cold metal blades in my flesh. Cuts meant to kill… deadly accurate. Mercy smiled on me then, and what should have been fatal was not. The pair were swift. As thunder rolled through the skies and shook the leaves from limbs he fell… It was something deeper, more gripping that shook me as I stood rooted to the ground.

Rysdan tried to urge me to safety, but I already knew if he wasn’t dead, there was no safety. My thoughts tumbled and rolled with the thunder and the wind… and still the rain held back. Prayers ran through me as I stood oblivious to the wounds. I felt nothing but cold fear. Never had fear gripped me as such, save when the children were taken… I struggled to find the force of will to do anything. Siveyn held up the lifeless body of hin.

‘You know him?’

I nodded as Rysdan bandaged my wounds. I sank back down to the bench as fear released my sluggish muscles. I could hear their questions, hear their concern. They worried for more assassins. No. Just one. And he was dead again. I wanted to answer them, but the only reply to their questions was the roll of thunder. At some point it was only Siveyn and I at the camp. The lightning and the fire throwing about strange shadows as the sun set. He wanted to know who it was that he just killed. The thing is I didn’t have a name to give. One question led to another, and finally he asked to hear the whole telling. From the start, in its entirety. It was a long and painful thing… starting so many months ago, it took time to piece the thoughts together, and keep them in order. The Elf is fortunately patient. At some point the thunder stopped, and as my mind walked the paths of the past. Until that point I had not realized how many painful steps there had been. Thoughts and pains, barbs in the heart that had yet to be addressed. The trickle of people coming and going listening for a time and moving on.

Emrys passed at one point. Siveyn asked me to tell him what had happened with the hin. This drew him to anger that I did not expect. The pains of the past sat heavy on him, and he sought outlet. Pain that sits too long in the heart can twist to hate and anger. Anger can destroy much. His anger, on my already raw spirit landed like sharp blows. And all at once I too was screaming. We sat there the two of us, toe to toe, throwing words sharpened by our pain and our anger… We took turns wounding each other’s spirits until neither could bear the pain we inflicted on the other. The clouds mirrored my shrouded heart as I struggled to hold onto unshed tears as a miser holds his coins. My pain would be my burden. Already my burdens had wounded enough. Drawn enough to pain and death. And the telling continued.

As people passed, Jonas happened by, and after hearing from Siveyn what had happened, chose to stay. There come a time, as I spoke of the long fight against the Bhaalists that I knew my tears would not so stay contained. My eyes closed as the memories of the days passed through my mind, and I struggled to put them to words. I was vaguely aware of whispered comforts from Jonas, and the patient listening ear of the elf who sat at my other side. A rain fell softly as I spoke of the battle. It was as if all the world cried for me at that moment. Did the sky now let fall the tears of the coast for the one whose blood had reddened the soil that day? I turned my face to the soft cold rain. Sharp contrast to the tears that I now let fall from my eyes. There, in the arms of Mercy that held me, healed my wounds, as the rain hid my grief, I finally finished the tale. Ironic that they applauded the end of it as if I were a bardess.

Siveyn took the whole of it, and offered his wisdoms as I continued to let the rain wipe the tears from my face. Long had I learned to weep in silence. Many times had I grieved in silence with naught but Mercy to comfort me. This moment was different. Not only was Ilmater standing with me, but many I was honored to call friend. Jonas, who had been not only a good friend but a stalwart guardian at the worst of things, offered quiet encouragement. Blessed was I to have more friends than enemies… But the cold rain chased many indoors. I sat in still silence working to come to terms with thoughts and emotions the memories brought to light.

Emrys returned quietly. Jonas continued his murmured prayers, and the rain fell, and finally there were no more tears to let go of. Even with my eyes closed I could tell Emrys felt as bad about our screaming match as I did. I offered my apologies for my temper and my harsh words. He insisted I had nothing to be sorry for. That while my words were harsh they were not undeserved or untrue. I had spoken from the heart, but without mercy. In a moment of anger I sought to hurt him with words as he had me… and I was wrong for it. As we debated who was more at fault, we agreed to simple agree to disagree, forgive and move on.

Selah found me there later amid a crowd and chatter. As any good sister would do, she offered solace. Escape… As we said… we had many adventures. We explored some of the more hidden corners. Shared plenty of conversation and a bottle of wine. Ugh! Let me never forget to never again drink more than one glass of wine… Half a bottle was half a bottle too much. It was mortifyingly embarrassing just how drunk I was, but at least we kept ourselves amused. Laughter came easy as the night wore on. A balm to my heart. The curiosity in me complimented the adventurous spirit in Selah. We walked much of the night and most of the next day. She even let me braid her hair. It was an overall comforting thing. To pass girlish conversation about romance and plans of homes and gardens… of peace… without worry or fear. For now.

As I sit here passing all these thoughts and so many more through my mind… I cannot help but wonder if I have not yet seen the last of Bhaal’s Chosen. No longer is he tasked with attaining a vessel for his lord. Just blood. It is that thought that makes sleep such a difficult thing to find. Pray Ilmater, grant me strength for what may yet lurk in the shadows. Most of the threat is gone… Still there is the Hin, the Wizard, who I did not see at the siege. Even when those troubles pass, I am sure trouble will find me as it always has. There are some troubles I was reminded of… The Soulkeep is still a prize many seek, and with all this attention… I won’t be so difficult to find. Still, it can be destroyed, trouble passes, we endure, and are stronger for it. Peace will find me… I need only the patience to seek it.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED THIRTY-NINETH ENTRY]

So it is to be the same game. There are subtle differences. He hates me more. I face only him, and not an army of Bhaal. The only soul at ransom is my own. Subtle differences, but the whispers are just as cruel. He means to deliver my soul to his god. He says it’s the only way he will be allowed to rejoin his lord and take his rightful place at his side. He will be in for a bit of disappointment, since I mean to keep my soul to myself until Ilmater bids me walk the paths of Mount Martyrdom. I have learned some in my time with him. Like when to call his bluff and when not to, and to never trust what I see… or rather don’t see. I am back to glancing behind me… listening for a whisper, and praying to not feel those damnable blades in my back.

For now my best defense my be to stick to the crowds. I know him well enough to know it is wise to pray for the strength to endure… this will be no quick thing to resolve. Especially since it sounds as though his death will be circumvented until he attains the vengeance his god has sent him for. Perhaps there is a way to get around that, but I know it not. Blessed am I to have such dear friends… Mercy willing I can keep them safe. Fortunately… the past trials have strengthened us all greatly. We will endure this as we have so much else. For now… For now I need to try to rest. Merciful Ilmater keep me… I am so tired.

Sleep has not come easy. My mind is content to replay the most frightening moments in my time with the Bhaalists… the worst of these that moment when I helplessly watched the last bit of life fall away from the dear child I saw as my own. Sometimes though it is not visions my mind conjures for me, but sounds and feelings… Choking darkness that no light pierces. I hear the screams of the battle… the catapults and clash of metal on metal… As if I were there again, I feel and hear every moment. Taste the dirt and ash, the dust of stone and the tinge of blood… Every detail but sight. Now there is a new sound… Laughter. In every moment where we suffered a blow, he laughs. Laughter and a whisper. As I hear the fortress fall, and Bhaal’s essence cry and defeat, there is that whisper now that runs beneath it as clearly as though he were in my ear through out the whole battle.

‘You will pay Meri… You will pay.’

I wake expecting to see him there… and knowing even if he were there, I would not see him. Thank all that is mercy that I won’t run out of tea soon. I think the Shadow of the Vile One may well be all that I am not. I have never known one more in opposition to myself. I worry, for my foe knows me well… Perhaps though I should not. Trust in your faith Meri… it is ever your strength. Ilmater walks with me still yet. With a measure of faith and hope… this too will pass. In that I can be content. For now things are disturbingly quiet yet again… and I should try to rest… again.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND FOURTIETH ENTRY]

I barely remember stumbling to the temple. I woke some time later with my boots near the bed and drenched in a cold sweat. Still it was more of a nap than I had afforded myself in days. Seems I was tired enough to even keep the nightmares at bay. I don’t remember dreaming. I don’t remember sound nor sight, just pain wrapped so tightly around my heart I could not bear it. Pain and fear. Fear that perhaps they all have more faith in me than I could ever deserve.

I considered the words of many in that moment. Some words were kind, some words were daggers. The unyielding loyalty of some, the undying hatred of others, and every aspect and degree of friend between then and now. The sheer volume of it was overwhelming. I have lived and died, my every moment for the sake of another, and regretted none of it. Patiently, I would wait for my moment of peace.

Silently, my grieves to bear, my fears endured knowing that I did not bear them singularly. As I sat there in the dark stillness of the temple, and listened… I heard nothing. It was as though all the world had stopped. I felt a familiar presence. A soft whisper that unbound my heart and soul. Slowly the light of the halo increased in intensity. There was nothing but stillness… no one woke, or stirred, nothing.

Soft, comforting whispers fell through my thoughts. I looked up for an instant and knew then that his smile was upon me. It was there in that moment that I wept. Let the shadows see! The darkness revel in it! I did not care… In the Arms of Mercy, I was safe, for that one small moment… That brief bit of time, I was not Sister Merielle Williams the Living Saint of Ilmater… I was just… Meri.

When there were no more tears left to shed, I rose quietly. I knew this temple in the darkness, with the light of Ilmater upon me I could not lose my way. I washed the last bits of pain from my face, put on proper night-robes, washed my others, made some tea and re-made the bed. In all that span of time, I still do not think time moved. I crawled into bed, and had no other thought until I woke this morning to tend my prayers.

Prayers… The conversation with Rente haunted me in an odd way. It was just something I did not expect in all of this. Some of it is difficult to wrap my mind around. I have not taken traditional vows, and while my every step has been in service of the Crying Lord since my initiation, I have not served as long as some. Nor have I died a Martyr’s Death… and yet still… now, and after my death, I shall be revered as The Twice Martyred, and Saint Dionysus. Rente spoke of pilgrimages and prayers, veneration. The whole conversation was… well… odd to me. Joan and I were sitting in the temple chatting about recent events… mostly the Hin and her twisted ankle, when Rente joined us. After some passing and polite conversation… things got complicated.

‘That reminds me…Before he left Father Melder tasked me with something…’

I shouldn’t have asked maybe, but I did:

‘Anything I can help with?’

‘Yes indeed, I am to chronicle your deeds and history… while here. Do you have a record of your days? A journal or some such? I need not read it now, but I would like to know if such a thing exists. What you do from day to day, your life history, that sort of thing. It is to be for the official church records. My report that is and, I am certainly hoping such a thing as your journal exists.’

Well the casual impartiality with which he asked to see the contents of my most treasured possession laid bare. He asked to see this… my sanctuary of my thoughts, to analyze and understand… to keep as a relic. All at once I was starting to feel more like a trinket than a person… He sat there and sipped his soup as if he were asking to borrow my quill. Fortunately Joan attempted to offer me a bit of a respite, and spoke were I could not find polite words to form the thought in my mind.

‘Zat is a little bit private don't you think?’

‘Oh? Er... I… is it?’

As he floundered in thought and Joan was looking rather like she wanted to flog him, I finally found words. Though maybe it too was a question I should not have asked… I was getting good at that.

‘I am simply curious why it would be so important it all?’

‘I was told to gather all the information about you I could. You are a saint after all, you must see the importance of chronicling your doings?’

Well… Joan wanted rest. I think she may have been a bit cranky because as I went to tend to things I could hear the two of them.

‘Meri, may be saint, but she is still a person.’

‘Of course… but I have to--’

‘You can't go rummaging through her personal effects. She'll tell you everything you need to know I'm sure.’

With that Joan went on her way. I was left with Rente and starting to feel very much like a rat in a cage within a wizard’s tower. I sat across the table, watched as Rente sought words enough of his own.

‘Am I being rude again? I am not good at this... So... er... am I being too forward about the journal? I have been tasked with the job from the church... Joan seemed to think it was maybe slightly rude? But er... you are a saint er... Meri. This is awkward… It is hard to treat you both as Saint and friend at times.... are you certain I must be so casual?’

And there in lay the puzzle. My next trail, and test of faith. Can I balance Faith, being the relic they saw me as, and my humanity? It wasn’t that I had felt I needed to hide my past. Granted there were things I was not proud of. It was fear. Fear that if some things were made known, enemies could use them against me. The Soukeep… there were many who would seek it, and would do whatever they felt they could get away with… like hurt those dear to me… Or even the Hin… he would not hesitate to use these thoughts to further cause me harm. Once again I wondered how they would really see me if they knew I was nothing more than a scared little girl, with a lot of heart. I was rattled from my thoughts when he asked what my orders were, as to whether or not he would forgo such a personal journey.

‘I am not used to ... well giving orders… I was wholly daunted when they told me I would lead along side Jonas and Maximus.’

‘You did a good job. The troops were inspired.’

‘They were inspired?’

‘Yes... several have told me so.’

So much had I heard negative words, or hollow congratulations… It seemed strange to me. There were kindnesses, genuine words, but so much of it was lashings at Ilmater, or wonderings why I had let so many die.

‘I hadn't heard that much…’

'Well you maybe can imagine it is a little daunting for some to speak to you with …’

He pointed to the halo above me. Most often the light was a comfort I paid little mind to. There were times when I would suppress it. In moments of prayer, or battle, moments where my faith would burn brightly, and the light would increase in intensity… It was a wonder. Even to me.

‘But that is part of what--’

‘Sometimes -I- get daunted by it.’

‘I see... it may be difficult? Being er.... a saint?’

‘Well... you have to understand. I am not used to so much attention.’

And so began a conversation. A brief, but tense, and even painful recounting of those steps that oriented me to my eventual path… and to the path I now walk. He was strangely analytical, impartial. It was nerve-wracking. To further add to the awkwardness of the moment, I was aware he was taking notes on me. When he realized my discomfort with the latter he apologized.

‘It’s alright... its just I am not used to being the center of attention.’

‘You should be aware then... Er… is quite possible there could be… pilgrims. To um... venerate you.’

‘Pilgrims?’

A silly question. I had taken a pilgrimage of my own. A new weight of sorts settled on me as he spoke of people coming seeking blessings, and offering prayers… to me. Oh dear. Oh dear dear dear.

‘Why? I mean... I am no grand thing.’

‘No offense my S-- er Meri, but.. look up. You have heard of the Twice-Martyred of course?’

‘Well yes. I studied him as part of my initiation into the Ilmatari nearly five years ago.’

‘The way people venerate that holy person is the way they will venerate you Sister. I think you should prepare for this... I mean no disrespect, but it will happen one way or another. There is a prayer to Ilmater asking for the intersession of the Twice-Martyred, there will likely be for you as well.’

‘I am hardly worthy of such things. But I can't... I mean... well I am still... just a healer...’

‘Sister. May I be very, very blunt?’

‘May as well be.’

‘You are a Saint. The Chosen of our Lord. You are no normal healer! You cannot continue thinking of yourself as such, not just for your own sake, but for the sake of others. People will be looking to you for guidance and intersession. You must try to understand. You humility is good and holy, but it could get in the way of the paths of others. You must TRY to be a saint.’

I think I said a prayer to every saint in the service of Ilmater, and at least two then. Help me! I don’t know what I am doing here… What if I faith them? Never has Ilmater put me to a task I could not complete… I only just barely stopped Bhaal, and to my grieving heart… it was less of a victory than I wanted. I am ever the Willing Servant, but this task, oh dear Mercy guide my steps. Guide my steps lest I stray this path. Do not let me lose that which keeps me humble, let me keep that which makes me what I am, that I may serve, unwaveringly. Mercy guide me. Keep your hand at my back Ilmater… and as if in quiet answer… the halo brightened faintly.

I took a deep breath and sought calm. It would be alright. He Who Endures stood with me, and I would not fail. Didn’t stop Rente’s impartial manner from getting on my nerves as our conversations continued. He sipped soup and tea as he took notes and asked questions about tender subjects whose scars still lay across my heart. All this he did as though he were asking for the recipe for Pheasant and Dumpling Soup. The analyzing and noting continued for some time.

‘So... perhaps next time I will get a closer look at the journal?’

‘You do realize that--’

‘Realize what sister? I know it is personal now... as Joan pointed out... but it is for the church. Is there something else?’

‘Its just that... Well… people are so enamored with this shining saint...when she is a tarnished broken thing poorly put back together and held in one piece by faith and fragile hopes... and... she is not as worthy of all they hold her to. Some thoughts are personal yes. Rente I have done things that would shame the worst of people. Murder, and well… worse… Granted I had no choice in the matter... But…’

‘ These things you speak of.... they are what make you a Saint. A Saint is not perfect. They do not live without sin, they are the people who overcome it despite great obstacles. You endured what I feel I could not have in your place. Many lesser would have failed. And do not be humble here. This is true’

‘We do not endure suffering oblivious to the pain that passes through us... some knives cut deep... and never pierce our flesh.’

Near spent, and not sure how much longer I could stay composed in the face of so much brought to the surface, I rest my forehead on my palms. I wanted to scream at him: I am still a living breathing human being! Wanted to rattle the cold impartiality from him. Instead I remained quiet as our conversation came to a close. Perhaps Mercy spoke to his heart then because as he left he paused, in a gesture of comfort kissed the top of my head.

‘And Meri… It will be alright…’

So he does remember I am a person. I sat long after the tea went cold and forgotten. The conversation replayed as I shook my head. So I sought solace and prayer. After a long moment I went for a walk. Ian offered me sanctum should I need a place to collect my thoughts in peace. A kind offer but I dare not. Not yet anyway. Sister Abby is on a Plea still for a few more days. There is the Hin to contend with, much at the temple that needs doing… Duty bids me stay, for now. I give people hope. Besides. I am not going anywhere until I figure out where in all of Toril Tessian has gotten to.

He has just disappeared! No one has seen him, no one has heard from him, no one knows anything. I take the smallest comfort in that his father can no longer cause him harm, but I worry for him all the same. I crave the solace his company offers. The carefree conversation and the laughter. I worry for him. I haven’t seen him since the night before the angel came at the siege. Gods I hope he is alright. Mercy of Ilmater please keep him. He had once asked me to leave a note stating if I was running and errand of sorts. I think I will return the sentiment in kind. I wonder… if that blasted guard of his father’s has anything to do with it. I pray not. Trying to make a trip to Amn in secret was impossible last time… it will be much beyond that. I do have those papers… the incriminating ones. That might save us trouble should there be issues with a dead Amnish noble. Blast it all! Where could he be? There are so many possibilities! I can’t even ask Adam if he might know where he is. Adam disappeared shortly after we got back from Amn. I wonder if the Tessian went to find him maybe? What sort of trouble, if any, could it be? Let it just be some sort of extended errand. Please just let him be alright…

I should stop scribbling and get to work… worry less… go for a walk… something! I am not tired. Thank the mercies great and small for that. Mercy guide me, keep those dear safe and well in your arms. Let me not misstep, for my faith will not waver, and with your hand at my back I will not falter.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED FOURTY-FIRST ENTRY]

I wonder at the days. When I sit here and sift through these pages, it is almost unbelievable that so much has happened. The only thing perhaps more astounding is that there are yet much more to do. Still, today passed peacefully. Slowly my feet find the path set before me. The tailspin my thoughts have been in slow as I settle back into my duties. To mend. The day started in prayer, and ended in prayer, and as I walked my path crossed many. The fellow Ian spoke of for starts. I was doubtful at first, but it seems, for now like he genuinely wishes to change. I would be a full to trust completely, but for now I will help him seek a new path. Listening to him was a bit unsettling. Not just because the telling was unpleasant, but because I saw in him, what very well could have been me. Had I held my anger and my hate, let circumstance bitter my heart… How easily his words could have been mine. Our paths, while very different, share some similarities. If I can open his eyes to this, show him that there is a better path, then perhaps he can be redeemed. Though it will be a difficult road to say the least. There is much to do.

Poor Jonas. I see it every time our paths cross. The man needs rest. To add to the weight that hangs upon him, there was a bit of trouble. A matter of the heart. I pray my words lent him some new light. I will help how I can to see it mended. I maintain the hope now that it can be mended. If it is one thing I have learned it is that one should never leave room for doubt. Doubt eats away at hope, stealing away the light until all at once, you find you have not even an ember to light the way. On the other side of this is Valerius. The slight was great, but even in speaking with him, his heart wishes to mend as much as it now hurts. I didn’t waste time on cliché, offered one or two bits of wisdom, conveyed the message I was meant to, and delivered that which was his to begin with. I figured after all was said and done, it was more merciful to be quick and not over embellish. Though I have learned to not assume Winthrop is joking, and more importantly to keep my mouth shut in turn… I may never live it down. Oh well at least it gives the man a reason to laugh, even if at my expense.

There were some other moments in the day, where I mended, mediated, prayed and meditated. Even some moments where I allowed my own weaknesses shored up and mended. Seems for now that the peace I saw on the coast when I arrived, has returned. The shadows have receded, worries have passed away. Dare I think that at last I can seek some measure of order. In the chaos whispers of shadows in dark and deep corners have been lost. While I would be foolish to think the threat has passed, I think at least for now I can put it aside. Maybe they killed each other, as they so often do. Maybe… just maybe… dare I hope that it has been forgotten? Well I will let it remain so… I will not speak of it, and do my best to not spare it thought. I have seen things ignored into forgotten nonexistence. Perhaps this is no different.

The bright light of the day was nothing compared to the light that returned to my heart. Tessian is safe. My worry unfounded, though he thinks I will think less of him for his actions. He may not realize it… but he spared me a greater mercy. I did not have to bear the pain of one death that day… a drop in the bucket for some, but a welcome one for me. Selah in one of her overly chipper, and highly insinuative moods… well… My dear sister… All I can say is if she has her way… Oh dear. At least Tessian can take it in stride. She went on about dates, (and not the fruit) rings, ( I doubt entirely she meant halo’s or pancakes) and some nonsense on clowns I dare not try to sort. Then of course Dimsdale and Tessian had some long involved conversation, that was quite funny… and in Dwarven. Dim has promised to tell me what they discussed if I finished that bottle of wine off… Ugh. After my outing with Selah… I may never drink again. Not even a half a glass… much less half a bottle! I think I will wait patiently and see if I cannot get Tessian to tell me what was so funny. Spare myself the headache in the morning least wise. Either way, regardless of why and how he may now view himself… he is back, he is safe, and I could not be more content with that.

Prayers are tended, and I helped Addy with the evening meal… this time I did not mix the salt and sugar. I helped tidy the temple and took care of a few other things. I might even take a quick nap. All the walking I did, a bit of rest won’t hurt. Thank Ilmater that the day was a peaceful one, pray it is not merely a brief respite. Yes… today was a grand day. May tomorrow be as bright. Mercy willing, it will be. If it isn’t, then I will do all in my power to brighten it. I will not give shadow purchase any longer.
~~