Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

Baldur's Gate Gazette - Volume IV, Issue 1
by Elycia Innovius

An issue of the Baldur's Gate Gazette, dated Eleint 14, 1347. The words, 'Publisher and Editor: Elycia Innovius' is written on the bottom of each page. In bold letters, the front-page article is clearly visible. Next to it, an artists' depiction of one of the buildings in the Friendly Arm Inn complex. In small font, the words 'Elycia Innovius' appear next to this article.

Friendly Arm Auction House Robbed!

The Auction house, which stands in the Friendly Arm inn complex and is oft frequented by adventurers, has been recently robbed by an unknown individual or organization. The Fist is revealing little about the incident, but it was reported that the inn was shut down for a brief time and the entrance inside the walls barred as the Fist investigated. A search was conducted on each individual on the inn premises at the time the incident occurred, and those searched were thusly released and ordered out of the walls if nothing suspicious was noted. At this time, it is not known whom the perpetrators of the robbery are, whether it was one individual or many, or what eactly was stolen. The Gazette will continue to report as details emerge.
Lower down the page, another article is written, the headline slightly smaller than the one above it.

New Page in Life of Gazette

The Baldur's Gate Gazette now is under new management, after it had gone out of business under Pinochet Fauchs. The new editor and publisher is Elycia Innovius, a bardess from Cormyr whom is a member of the Performer's Guild in Baldur's Gate, as well as an Acolyte of Candlekeep. Elycia wishes to spread information both through her inclinations as a bardess as well as a servant of Oghma. She aims to publish an informative and interesting publication that readers may enjoy throughout the Sword Coast. The bardess welcomes written contributions to the Gazette, and would love to discuss with anyone who has something they would like to share. She can be reached either at her home in Candlekeep or in Baldur's Gate, at the White Mask Theatre in the Palace District.

On the next page, a picture of a pair of Red Wizards of Thay is drawn. Beside the image, a large headline.

By Dukes' Decree: Red Wizards IN!

Say what you will about the Red Wizards of Thay - but they shall be allowed as citizens of Baldur's Gate and the surrounding lands regardless. A recent decree by the Grand Dukes of Baldur's Gate has lifted the ban on the Red Wizards, and allows them to become citizens with full privilege as any other. The decree, issued by the Dukes, also states that any action against the Red Wizards shall be met with force of law. Reports are surfacing that Red Wizards have already began to populate the area, and that they will soon take residence in the Isatari Tower. This recent decree has caused a great deal of controversy amongst the current residents of Baldur's Gate, and denizens of the surrounding areas. Councilor of Doron Amar and Headmaster to the Arcane Academy Rhys Feivra has recently pledged that those that associate with the newly-permitted Red Wizards shall not be allowed to teach within the Arcane Academy, or enter Doron Amar. There even exist accounts that the famed Sir Jonas Rokranon has decided to depart the Coast area in reaction to the Duke's decision. It is unclear what the end result of the decree will bring as the Red Wizards begin to establish themselves in the area. Will there be actions taken against the Red Wizards by adventurer vigilantes? Will the Wizards bring their questionable cultural practices with them? The Gazette will continue to report.

Beside the article, to the right-hand side of the page, is a smaller article.

White Mask Theater Delivers Cheers, Smiles

Housed within the Palace District of Baldur's Gate, the White Mask Theater continues to draw crowds after the highly-acclaimed production of Karsus' Folly. The Theater hosts Open Stage Nights turnride, where many White Mask guild members perform themed pieces, and any individual attending the event may perform their own piece upon the stage. A recent Open Stage, night hosted was in tribute to the splendid deities Sune and Sharess, and prizes were given for the best act and best dressed of the night. Notably, Valqis Sanejmeh delivered a spectacular performance that left the crowd swooning, and Niyenne Tremelaine won best-dressed of the night in a white gown.

The next page brings more articles and pictures. On the left-hand side, an image of a man with a sword attacking a ghost is shown. A headline appears under the image.

Thedran Attacks Phantasmal Being, Lives

A recent incident involving a wandering spirit has left citizens of the Coast confused, as a phantasmal spirit of some kind has been making rounds along the Trade Way, near the Friendly Arm Inn. At one of the initial sightings of the spirit near the Friendly Arm campfire, a popular leisure spot for adventurers, the well-known personality Thedran launched an attack against the creature. While the Flaming Fist had warned all individuals to stay away from the creature and to not interact with it, Thedran cited strong desire to rid the realm of undead as his reasoning for the attack. He was reported to shout For Rokranon! as he swung his weapon at the phantom, probably alluding to the relatively well-liked Sir Jonas Rokranon, whom has recently departed from the Coast. Thedran's attack did not appear to cause the spirit any harm, and thusly he proceeded to attempt to use other methods, such as holy water, to put the spirit to rest. Despite the Fist warnings about the creature, Thedran and other interested parties luckily survived in their attempts to rid the Trade Way of the being, while the Trade Way itself continues to be haunted by the spirit. The Fist persist in remaining tight-lipped about the phantasmal presence. Thedran was recently seen standing near the noticeboard and chasing pirates back to Roaringshore.

A much smaller article appears to the right, complete with an image of what appears to be some sort of water creature.

Ancient Water Creature Escorted to Gullykin

A strange creature of water has appeared on the Coast, and requested passage to Gullykin with the help of adventurers. The being first fell from the waterfall in the spring near the Friendly Arm Inn, discovered by mercenary Will and Elycia Innovius. With the help of friends and led by a certain druidess, the adventuring party fought fire elementals to escort the creature to speak to the halflings at Gullykin. Its current whereabouts are unknown.

On page four, a large image of a bearded man in fullplate armor is drawn. The caption of the image reads. 'Aranath Turambar, Knight of the Radiant Heart'. To the right is an article with a large headline. The article appears also to be written by Elycia Innovius.

Aranath Turambar Slays Demon; Knighted

Not half a ride ago, Aranath Turambar, with the assistance of dwarven friends and adventuring compatriots alike, removed a great evil from this plane as they slew a mighty Demon Lord in the Realms Below. A Paladin of the Radiant Heart, Aranath had been questing long to be rid of this demonic force in conjunction with his mission to gather shards of a broken blade. Aranath reports that he received guidance from the Loyal Fury Torm himself in how to finally fell the terrible Demon, whom had just barely escaped the wrath of the Tormtar many a time before. Thereafter emerging to the surface and completing his quest, Aranath was promoted to the rank of a Knight by the Order of the Radiant Heart. In a solemn ceremony, he recited his oaths in the company of friends and fellow Paladins, and rose a Knight at daybreak. Thereafter, he hurried to the barber for a haircut and rejoiced with his friends at the Elfsong Tavern, where he bought them drinks and humbly stated that he could not have completed his quest without their help. Already known widely for his many jokes, Aranath is quickly becoming a powerful force of his Knightly Order along the Coast, and the Gazette looks forward to more heroic deeds to come.

Another article appears on this page, slightly smaller.

Fist Executes Three Criminals

At a dusk most recent, the Flaming Fist erected a gallows just across the way from the entrance of the Friendly Arm Inn. Three criminals were publicly executed by the Fist, for various crimes including theft, necromancy, murder, and even cannibalism. While at first many onlookers protested the execution at its outset, they appeared considerably quelled upon hearing the heinous acts that the criminals had committed. Two of the men were hanged upon the gallows; the third individual, having committed the most serious offenses, including spitting upon the eye of a Fist officer, was reported to have been made an example of by the Fist. The criminal was doused in lamp oil and summarily set aflame to burn to ash. All criminals died, and the crowd was dispersed.

The final page of the Gazette has no pictures, but rather what appears to be an advertisement for the Nashkel Trading Emporium. In small font at the bottom, it reads 'Paid for by the order of Maximillian Mandorf'.

The Nashkel Trading Emporium
(Now Under New Management)

We are the premier trade organization of Northern Amn! Not confined to the conventions of other, ordinary franchises, we deal in-
Now seeking Merchants,
Wagon-Masters,
Caravan Guards,
Laborers, and Farriers!
Leave word at our Guild Hall in the Northern Lights Inn, in Nashkel, or seek Headmaster Delphinn Veil!

A long text headlines on the top of this page. In small text beside it, 'Valqis Sanejmeh, Reader of Candlekeep' is written.

Our Nite Sky

I rite this on Eleint 14, 1347. It is 268 days since the last Winter Solstice (longest time of nite). We are now in the month of The Fading, as the hot Summer is fading into komfortable Fall season. The Fall equinox is on Eleint 21, "Highhaverstide". Two yesternites past, the moon Selune' was full round. It will be half round on Eleint 20. Selune' will hide in the Sun's brite lite from Eleint 27 for 3 days, Today planets we can see on this nite are: At sunset, planet Glyth will be low in east-south-east sky very near Selune'. Glyth is similar brite to other stars but if you watch it for many months, we can measure it moving compared to the stars far behind Glyth. By middle nite, Selune' and Glyth will be in the high south sky. Planet Garden will be middle-distanse between Selune' and the east horizon. It is also very dim with lite green color. Very brite Chandos will be high in the south east sky. By sun rise time, Blue Kapri will be almost straite up high above us. Very brite white Coliar will be middle distanse between Chandos and the rising Sun. Chandos and Coliar are a pretty pair worth searching for in our nite sky. Planets Anadia and is hided by the brite sun lite of day so it cannot be finded today in our nite sky.

Another piece sits on the right-hand side of the page, written in fine italicized lettering. It appears to be written by Elicia Innovius.

Sam the Satyr

Deep in the depths of the wildy wood,
Under the green canopy,
And they call him Sam the Satyr...
Those that know him do...
His body, lean and sprightly...
Long and flowing his hair...
His horns are long, a' peeking from...
the hair upon his head...
Oh, Sam the Satyr!
You know that we'll always love you...
There came a great rain that flooded the bank...
Sam went to it with chalice in hand...
And then there was an awful blizzard...
Sam braved the terrible chill...
Then came a terrible fire in the wood...

Sam arrived at the site of the blaze...
Oh, Sam the Satyr!
You know that we'll always love you...
You are our savior...
Protecting the wildy wood true.

Baldur's Gate Gazette - Volume IV, Issue 2
by Elycia Innovius

An issue of the Baldur's Gate Gazette, dated Marpenoth 4, 1347. The words, 'Publisher and Editor: Elycia Innovius' is written on the bottom of each page. In bold letters, the front-page article is clearly visible. Next to it, an artists' depiction of three menacing-looking Cultists in black robes. In small font, the words 'Elycia Innovius' appear next to this article.

Bhaalists Continue to Terrorize Sword Coast

Bhaalist activity has increased recently in the region, leading denizens of the area to be especially wary and to worry whom might be the next target. It was found that Bhaalists were responsible for the kidnapping of a young girl from the orphanage in the Farmlands, luckily rescued by a band of adventurers. The Fist have hanged the Bhaalist perpetrator, who warned before he was executed, My brother is still accomplishing his work... The people... from the Sword Coast... will die... they will burn in a fire... Since then, Bhaalist attacks have continued, including a kidnapping of a pair of farmers in the Farmlands. The Bhaalists responsible were found in the nearby crypts, and were summarily slain by Squire of the Radiant Heart Taron Lane, and his allies. Known citizen Alison the Harlequin has also been reported to have been attacked by Bhaalists in the Trollclaws to the north. Alison fortunately survived the attack.

Lower down the page, another article is written, the headline slightly smaller than the one above it.

Radiant Heart Rids Coast of Necromancer

The Order of the Radiant Heart has recently dispatched of a Necromancer that had been menacing the ruins where goblins reside near Beregost. The goblins themselves fled as the Nercomancer took up residence in their ruins, as indeed they were no match for his power. Accompanied by several members of the Avowed of Candlekeep, the Order of the Radiant Heart fought through wave after wave of undead beings of great might. Eventually the group found their way to a gaping crevasse in the floor of one of the rooms of the ruin. They courageously lowered themselves down, and soon came faced with the Necromancer himself. The Order of the Radiant Heart and their allies significantly weakened the Necromancer until he fled through a portal. The group then escaped from the ruins. The Order suffered no casualties.

Page two seems to be comprised of columns of text only. In small letters next to the headline, The Phantom Reporter.

Undead Mount a Northern Offensive

THE FIELDS OF THE DEAD - Citizens of the Sword Coast experienced horror today when the Flaming Fist fought off an undead incursion that threatened to push into Baldurian farmland. A great din that reverberated throughout the north heralded the arrival of a foreigner necromantic presence. The swarming hordes of skeletons and ghouls provoked swift counteraction by Duke Eltan's famed mercenary company. As undead minions threatened to push through stalwart Flaming Fist line, the mercenaries responded by hiring more of the same. Issuing a call to arms with promise of ample compensation, the Fist cushioned the defensive line with adventurers of all sorts. The chaos of battle hit hardest when the adventurers were caught unprepared by an influx of undead mages primarily ghosts and other fell spirits that stripped away magical defenses and hit defenders with destructive magicks.

A spearhead consisting mostly of unorganized adventurers led push past the front lines to behold the apparent cause of the threat: a gargantuan magicked skull. Later identified as a powerful demilich, or a lich (undead mage) that has grown beyond the use of the semblance of its mortal body, the skull conjured a series of portal that fed a constant stream of undead into the Prime Material. Desperately fighting for their lives, the adventurers fell an back to a forward-camp set up by the Fist, and managed to throw the invading ghouls and skeletons off the walls. A constant stream of dead and wounded were dragged back into the camp, to be cared for with frantic practicality by an unidentified medic and a single priestess of Ilmater, Louise de LaValliere.

The night grew long, and the defenders seized whatever brief moments of rest they could as the undead continued their tireless assault on the camp. Realizing that they would be overwhelmed due to fatigue alone if they continued trying to hold the camp, a band of adventurers launched a counter-offensive cutting down swathes of undead as they made their way toward the demilich. Lives were lost, but the undead suffered a staggering defeat- though the demilich still lurked, defying the adventurers to do something to it. The ensuing lull was spent working at solutions for the demilich problem, as the arcane, the divine, and the kinetic all fell short of harming the skull.

Until a gnome flung a spell of evocation at it. Apparently angered, the skull responded with hellish fires that burnt through the front lines. Worse still, the demilich called forth portals to summon more undead with. Resolutely, the adventurers fought on under heavy magickal fire, managing to disrupt the majority of the portals. Just as it appeared the battle may have been won, a sickening force pulled the survivors inexorably toward the demilich. They were transported into what experts agree was a private dimension. Dropped from a portal into a land acrid with smoke and surrounded by the burning husks of long-forgotten ruins, the survivors grasped warily for some way out. Corpses old and new surrounded them. Besides the dead, it appeared they were alone. Until a company of damned souls assaulted them, burned men and women whose mortal skins were long since lost. Fighting desperately in an alien landscape, the survivors banded together- displaying a cohesion that saved their lives. (continued Undead, on page 3)

The third page has continuation of the article from the previous page.

Wile others searched the corpses and assorted debris of the dimension fruitlessly, the Thayan Khazark Selah Shartess studied the area with a canny eye, examining a relatively fresh red-clad body that would prove to yield the key out of the grim dimension. The Beast did not wait for her to finish her investigation, however, and the adventurers were beset bu the probable master of the realm. At over forty feet tall and fearsome to behold, the Beast evoked fear in the hearts of mortals. Still, the men and women that served that day fought with the desperation of a people with no choice. Through a truly combined effort, the Beast was vanquished, and the gigantic maggots that burst from its body were summarily disposed of.

Nonetheless, they were still trapped in the fiery dimension, and there was no telling how long they would have survived. The Red Wizards- Selah Shartess and Dimitri Val Naar resumed their investigation and found the key to freedom. A key which did not come without sacrifice. The ritual required an eye, and a young Thayan woman named Gwyneth Alkyrian offered hers willingly. Touched by her sacrifice, the adventurers left the dimension to see the land saved. As the Fist rewarded the mercenaries for their defense of the Farmlands, members of the Thayan Enclave stood one side- alone in their act of apparent benevolence, choosing not to accept the gold.

The cause of the Undead Incursion, however, remains shrouded in obscurity, as the only clues seemed to lie with the corpse of a Red Wizard found within the dimension- one who's presence prior to the adventurer's incursion might never be explained. Selah Shartess, an expert arcanist and leader of the Red Wizard enclave, answered the questions with this: The fields of the dead have always been a hostile force along the coast. It seems the energies drew a powerful undead entity that trapped us in a demi-plane of its design. We were fortunate to escape. I was able to perform the planar shift ritual. A ritual one of our gladiators offer their eye for to ensure it functioned properly.

Some have expressed a suspicion that the entire affair was nothing more than a Red Wizard publicity stunt, but for most veterans of the Night of the Demilich, the Red Wizards' courage and ingenuity were what saved the day. Whatever the opinions of the citizens of the Sword Coast, it was clear that heroes were recognized that day: heroes from the enclave like Atreuss, Jo'dan, and Gwyneth Alkyrian. Heroes who gave freely, like Louise de La'Valliere, the Unnamed Medic, and the indomitable Bar'Guzin Michael Severenicus of Daggerford. Heroes who saved the Coast.

-X-

Also on the third page, a smaller article to the right. In small text, the words 'Elycia Innovius' are written next to the headline.

Flaming Fist Spot-light: Barry

Barry is a guardsman of the Northern Trade Way, near the Farmlands of Baldur's Gate, near the bridge overpassing the River Chiontar. Barry valiantly fought in and survived the Bhaal temple war. His acts of heroism continue; a few months back, Barry managed to rescue a woman whom was attacked by a wolf on the Trade Way during his patrol; he ran to her aid and shot the wolf with his crossbow. The woman offered her belongings to Barry for him saving her life, but he refused, saying, Nay, miss. I do not seek a reward other than protecting law-abiding citizens from any danger. Today we applaud Barry for his continued vigilance in protecting and serving the Sword Coast.

On page four, a drawing of a male elf shown, with the caption over it;

Elf Bre'teas Felled by Drow, Resurrected

The elf known as Bre'teas, former star of the White Mask Theater's presentation of Karsus' Folly, has been recently cut down by drow assassins near Candlekeep. He was held in gentle repose within the walls of Candlekeep until the Fist had investigated the matter, and friends and allies of Bre'teas gathered the components needed for a full Resurrection spell to restore him to the Material plane. The Resurrection was a success and Bre'teas walks amongst us once more. He was last seen puzzling the audience with riddles at the White Mask Theatre.

Another article is written on the right hand side of the page, with accompanying picture. The picture shows a man dressed in a red robe on a stage acting in some sort of play, where he is pointing angrily at a man on his knees dressed in white. There are spectators drawn in as well. The caption reads, 'Depiction of political skit performed on the Lion's Way

Citizens Protest Presence of Red Wizards

As the Red Wizards of Thay move into their new home of the Isatari Tower in Baldur's Gate, citizens continue to react strongly. Sword Coast denizens Ralston Dash, Louise and Lotrik recently performed a political skit protesting the Red Wizards on the Lion's Way, during the Open Stage Night put on by the White Mask Theater. The skit included Ralston dressed in red robes, acting as if he was mistreating a slave. Several posters have also been spotted nailed along signboards and within taverns along the Trade Way, wich implore readers to boycott Red Wizard enchanted goods. The councilor to Doron Amar, Master Rhys Feivra, has also continued to be seen lecturing up and down the Trade Way about the history of the Red Wizards of Thay, stating that coin earned by the Red Wizard Enclave here in Baldur's Gate will eventually make its way back to Thay, and thus be supporting slavery. Rhys also cited the Red Wizard attack on Baldur's Gate that occurred three years ago. Although many citizens have spoke out against the Red Wizards, there has yet to be any physical altercation reported.

The next page has a drawing on the right-hand side of the page, of a portrait of a very thin Red Wizard male. The caption underneath reads, 'Image of Dimitri, Red Wizard and denizen of Sword Coast.' To the left of the image an article is written. In small font next to the headline, 'Elycia Innovius' is written.

Red Wizards Speak Out Against Criticism

Recently admitted into Baldur's Gate, the Red Wizards of Thay have been met with strong opposition from citizens. Recently, the Red Wizard Dimitri Val Naar has come forth to attempt to clarify intentions and dispel rumors.

On the subject of the intentions of the Thayan Enclave, Dimitri responded, Our intentions are twofold. First and foremost, we hope to provide the Gate and its residents with quality magical goods at competitive prices. Secondly the enclave will serve as an embassy of sorts for my homeland, and hopefully work towards thawing diplomatic relations with the Gate and its surrounding allies.

Dimitri also addressed concerns of the practice of slavery, a common subject amongst critics of the Red Wizards. I want to make it quite clear that we have no intention of importing any of our customs which the local residents might find offensive. We will not be bringing any slaves to the region, or participating in this region's slave trade in any form. Second, as a slight aside, I wish to mention that that particular custom is hardly unique to my homeland. It is commonplace in that entire region, not just Thay. Unther, Rashemen, Mulhorand, et cetera. That is not an attempt to justify it, merely to inform some who seek to demonize us. I am quite sure that some will choose to simply not believe me, but it is the plain truth.

He remarked on the distrust of the public as well, It is an unfortunate set of circumstances that has led us to the state of mistrust and hostility that we are currently in. In the interest of working towards mutual benefit and trade, we are aware that actions speak louder than words and that we must work towards earning the trust of the local public once again.
Commenting on public works and charity, the Thayan stated, I believe we will be donating the library that the Weavemasters left behind in the tower we purchased when they vacated it to another scholarly establishment who would be interested in taking it. In addition, a few of us have expressed an interest in offering our arcane expertise towards instructing any local fledging mages who are focused on one school or another.

The Red Wizard commented further, I am not asking, or expecting anyone to take us on our word that we are here in the interest of mutual benefit and open communication. There has been an unfortunate history that tarnished my entire homeland and organization with the actions of a few renegades. I only ask that people take our actions for what they are as we strive to earn their trust once again. We are here for trade and mutual benefit, which cannot occur if mistrust and silence exists between us. In short, all I ask is that we are given the opportunity to prove our intentions as genuine.

Dimitri added that he would be happy to discuss further concerns or questions with anyone over tea.

-X-

Page six seems to have a variety of articles. To the very lefthand side, a larger article appears to be written by The Phantom Reporter'.

The Reluctant Mercy of Mercenaries

THE TRADE WAY - A show of mercy from officers of the Flaming Fist saved a victim of experimentation today, something which the citizens of the Coast can appreciate, following in the wake of three executions. The two officers in question were seen escorting an injured man dressed in black away from the road. Upon bandaging his wounds, an officer commented on their inability to simply kill all offenders. The officers then let him to care for himself. One was heard saying There, hope no one will steal you. Take care, adventurer, and obey the law. Further investigation revealed that the 'victim' was in fact the perpetrator of the crime. A warlock (someone who has gained demonic power) who was in fact experimenting on himself, the victim was clearly shown mercy despite the fact that a minor law was broken. Thankful for their assistance, it is certain that the warlock appreciated their mercy.

The article in the center bears an image of two theatrical masks.

White Mask Brings in Autumn Riddles

The White Mask Theater, director Mia Desdemona, patron Anden Tremelaine, welcomed the Autumn season with a show on the Lion's Way. Many performed autumnal pieces and the audience was delighted by the show in the outdoor venue. More recently, the audience was challenged and amused by riddles in the Open Stage night held at the Theater in the Gate. The shows continue to be well-received by Sword Coast denizens; all eagerly await the announcement of the next show!

To the very righthand side, another article is written, with small letters reading 'Aranath Turambar' written next to it.

HUMOR: Musings from the Lighter Side

Greetings and salutations, fellow Sword Coast-ians. Your resident bearded paladin here with a look at a few of the news-worthy items of note involving our corner of the map! Sources tell me that due to their lack of popularity amongst children, the churches of Bhaal and Bane are planning to retool themselves to be more family friendly. As such, it has been announced that Bane will now hold the Domain of Candy and Cookies, and Bhaal will be the god of Pony Rides. Reactions have been mixed. In other news, a band of gypsies sold some travelers near the Friendly Arm Inn enchanted yams that made those who ate them sing all of their words. It was chaotic until it was sorted out, but it does turn out that Flaming Fist Officer Guss has a lovely singing voice. Rumors abound that Lady Mia is currently recruiting him for the next performance at the White Mask. In weather, the forecast calls for rain, rain, more rain, and even more bloody rain. Finally, in the world of fashion - This seasons hottest look seems to be all black hooded. Experts say the outfit has the tendency to make its wearer look dark and mysterious, with a possible history of sadness or malice Get yours today!

The seventh, final page has a large image in the center, of a rock-type being holding a sword. The caption below the image reads, 'Depiction of the avatar of Grumbar'. There is an article written to the left of the image. In small text next to the headline, it reads, Transcribed by Esra Pickering, TT, Scholar, Candlekeep.

OPINION: Grumbar Does Not Scorn Metal

One of the most misunderstood facets of druidism is metal. Many druids believe metal to be an abomination - proof of a scar mankind has carved into the lands. But then, what are bows, arrows or homes of trees but scars upon the land? What are hides, leathers and meat but a scar upon the land? This opinion is held by a Druid of Grumbar, which may differ from those druids whom serve the trees or animals. So what is Grumbar? Grumbar is all things. The Earth Lord is the sand, the dirt, the dust, the stone, the lava, and yes, the metal. Without him there would be nothing to stand upon. Without him there would be nothing for your bodies to return to. We are all born of Grumbar's body and will all some day return to it. It is this unchanging nature amidst a world of change that makes Grumbar a god of consistency even when one has to evolve for a need. He is the Oath Witness for words sworn to him are said to be carved in the deepest oldest bones of his memory. Woe to those who would forget a pact, for his memory is long and his wrath as violent as an earthquake. How does this all tie into metal? For a Druid of Grumbar, there is no offense wearing or wielding metal. Metal is just another part of Grumbar, to be honored and respected. In time, all blades will fall, rust and be reclaimed by the Earth Lord just as all corpses will be taken back. That is Grumbar. All may change, but all will return - forged, reforged, packed into clay or broken into dust, perhaps even smelted in the lava-blood of his heart.

To the right, another article is placed, appears to be written by 'Valqis Sanejmeh, Reader of Candlekeep'.

Our Nite Sky

I rite this on Marpenoth 3, 1347. It is 287 days since the last Winter Solstice (longest time of nite). We are now in the month of The Leafall as the trees bekome ready for the cold winter season. The moon Selune' will be half round on Marpenoth 5 and full round on Marpenoth 12. Selune' will hide in the Sun's brite lite beginning Marpenoth 26 for 3 days.

The moon is named after the goddess of the Moon. For most humans she is named Selune. For elfs she is named Sehanine Moonbow. Both goddesses are associated with the moon, sun, and stars. On my home islands, we have similar goddess named Nut. Far east from Sword Coast in Mulhorand their goddess of the moon is named Hathor. In Thay they name her Hatharia. But on my home islands, Hathor is the name of the phase where the spirits of the honored dead live forever with the stars. There are many different races and cultures on Toril, yet many share similar ideas about the sky. I am not surprised by this bekause we all share the same nite sky.

-X-

Chronicles of Kraak Helzak One

1347 DR

* Sighting of a massive Duergar Army was made by an expedition from the Nashkel Trade Emporium, but no warning give to the IronFaar Clan.

* The Ironfaar Stronghold south of Candlekeep is assaulted by the large Duergar Army while negotiations are had between visiting Candlekeep mages and Chieftain Khorgoth Ironfaar. After many hours of fierce battle, the Chieftain is slain among other notable warriors and the Stronghold is made a ruin by the invading army. Many dwarves blame the Candlekeep mages for collapsing the ceiling, cutting off the body of the chieftain from a proper burial as well as denying the dwarves a chance to retake their stronghold. Others claim the mages saved what was left of the clan. Regardless, the Ironfaar clan is scattered, divided and leaderless.

* The survivors, under brief leadership of the Slayer Starkad and guided by outsiders Mealir Ostirel and Minerva Esse, seeks refuge under the hospitality of the elves at Doron Amar. Their plea is granted by the council representative Aearion Cuanwaithon, allowing the dwarves to mourn their dead.

* The grand meeting takes place, outside the smoking ruins of the Ironfaar Stronghold, its destruction casting a large shadow over the meeting. The meeting aimed to proclaim a successor to the clan, but internal bickering caused a standstill in the negotiations. Wise elder Dakor Ironfaar proposed a solution; finding the lost Dovkin Battlehammer who had some legitimate claims to the leadership over many clans but now lives in exile. Skepticism abounded, but a search was to begin.

* Against all odds, Dovkin Battlehammer is found by a dwarven expedition going far north. To everyone's surprise, Dovkin has taken a Slayer oath and is currently tracking down the last remnants of an Orcish tribe, the rest fallen under his axe. The expedition takes up arms with him and dispatch the tribal leaders, and while Dovkin is reluctant about their suggestions, he agrees to at least visit the dwarven council.

* The second grand meeting takes place, with Dovkin Battlehammer as a key figure. Arguments begin anew, criticizing both Dovikin's right to rule as well as other proclaiming their right to the same. The negotiations are leading nowhere until Dovkin himself steps into the discussion, and with a rallying speech convinces many of the dwarves of his right, however reluctant that is to Dovkin himself. It is for the greater good that he accepts this crown even though he does not want to, Dovkin argues.

* The coronation of Dovkin Battlehammer as King takes place. He rallies dwarves from all corners of the Sword Coast to his banner, under the new name Kraak Helzak, meaning fortress of the Holy Anvil from the name of a magical anvil the dwarves had procured and saved from the Stronghold. The Ironfaars and the Slayers are among the first to swear loyalty. The ceremony is conducted in the wild. Henceforth, his titles are the Slayer King, Supreme Leader of Kraak Helzak and protector of the People.

* The Ironfaar survivors leave Doron Amar, thankful for the elves hospitality, and begin a journey north together with the masses of dwarves following the new King. Their goal is set on the troll claw hills, where sightings by the scouts Nich Raivo Ironfaar and Cordell Ironfaar have proved particularly favorable for the building of a new fortress.

* The Amnian-Gate war happens, and with some diplomatic correspondence with the Lords of Baldurs Gate, Kraak Helzak sends many groups of warriors south to aid in their defence as the lords promise Dovkin Battlehammer adequate compensation in their building endeavours would they aid their weakened military. The dwarven warriors are recalled before they arrive, as peaceterms are negotiated between Amn and Baldurs Gate.

* Dovkin Battlehammer blesses the warrior Hargrim the Unyielding as his highest General, issuing to him the task of building an elite order of warriors for Kraak Helzak. The King's Guard is born.

* Dovkin Battlehammer arrives at the Troll Claw ills with many refugees, warriors and machines with the aim of securing part of the area.

1348 DR

* The Black Orc War happens. Initially, the dwarves are too busy with the building efforts to intervene, but finally they respond to the elven pleas and gathers a sizeable warhost led by General Hargrim the Unyielding. The warhost are recalled before they arrive in Baldur's Gate, as the elves triumph over the orcs.

* Outer fortifications are built to prevent scavenging trolls from entering the caves, and giving the workers peace. The work is initiated and overseen by Durin Bargen Ironfaar. Meanwhile, excavations and expansions are ever in motion.

* Construction of a keep continues within the year, the new keep is nearly finished. Most of the slayers have died off on their never ending glorious struggle to clear the troll hills, the kings guards ranks swell. Dovkin Battlehammer issues a degree encouraging any dwarves to join the Kraak Helzak nation and offering them safety and protection within the keep.

Mist Dragons
by Kadri Saar

This text is written in Mulhorandi, using the Infernal alphabet. It is translated into Common on the opposite page.

Introduction

As a long-lived specialist in magical creatures, it is safe to say I've accumulated considerable experience (though not oft successful) in tracking down and cataloging rare and evasive wonders of Toril. My most recent field study, the Shocker Lizard, was found in the Underdark of Ruathym, near a lake in a small chamber populated with various white and purple fungi. The greatest challenge here was simply overcoming my fear to delve into those dark and vast tunnels. Of the speculated habitats across the island, I had saved the Underdark for last, due to many of its severe dangers as well as prior personal experience of which I don't care to mention in detail.

My newest project, possibly my most ambitious yet, includes personal reasons for wanting to pursue it. I bring to the reader's attention the Mist Dragon. Mist Dragons are aquatic by nature, and can be said to embody the element of water, much more so, than possibly any other dragon kin. Mist Dragons, as their name suggests, regularly release layers of mist which they shroud themselves in... and have even better said to transform their entire bodies into watery gas. To my current knowledge, no other dragon type embodies the spirit of water so fully, and as one scholar who has recently became interested in the Four Elemental Primordials, this makes the Mist Dragon of particular interest to me.

Where might such creatures be found? Naturally, warm, moist environments, such as swamps and rainforests, where water is plentiful, seemed like a natural habitat of choice. Given that there are relatively few accounts of Mist Dragons being seen on the west side of Toril, I chose to seek these watery environments in the far East, into the exotic lands of Kara-Tur. There I spent two years conducting field study, though due to the difficult, evasive nature of the Mist Dragons, only about three-to-four tendays worth of effective study has been conducted. Below is a summary of what I had discovered.

Appearance:

Mist Dragons have a very distinct appearance from other dragon-kin, looking more similar to drakes than actual dragons. Like Drakes, Mist Dragons have long, serpentine bodies almost resembling snakes. Limbs stretch out from the body near the rear and head and are small in comparison to the size of its body much more so than the contrast in size of limbs-to-body typically found in the metallics and chromatics. The dragon also has a finlike crest that runs down its spine and travels all the way to the tip of its tail which is flat. The head has a "triangular" shape, being broad near the neck and narrowing into a snout. The upper lip has a pair of long barbells which hang from it. Its expression is one of constant, deep contemplation, due to its super-heavy brows. Two long horns stretch from the back of its head. The scent of rain almost always accompanies its presence, which is compounded threefold whenever it releases blankets of mist from its body.

Breath Weapon:

The Mist Dragons are often miscategorized by swamp dwellers as black dragons, for they are both aquatic types and both include caustic breath weapons. A more trained eye, however, would note that the breath weapons differ in many ways. The Black Dragon shoots a liquid stream of highly concentrated acid, which it uses to directly burn the skin off its prey. The breath weapon often makes the shape of a "line". It also emits a strong corrosive odor, though not in any incapacitating way.

In contrast the Mist Dragon's caustic breath is less the shape of a line and more the shape of a cone. Its substance is much less a liquid and much more a caustic compromise between solid and liquid that is to say, a substance similar in texture to mud or wet clay. The corrosive power of the Mist Dragon's breath weapon is also much weaker, and in fact causes little to no direct harm to its prey. However, it is sticky, and its odor is much more severe to the point of actual incapacitation. The Mist Dragon uses this caustic slime to overwhelm its enemies with the stench of its slime, effectively paralyzing its prey. While their target is reeling and puking from the odor, it is essentially helpless. The Mist Dragon then closes on its prey for consumption.

The Mist Dragon does have an alternate breath weapon which it uses when more severely threatened. The Mist Dragon is capable of producing an equal-sized cone of hot steam, which can approximate temperatures easily over 100 degrees Celsius. This extremely hot mist expands quickly and encompasses the Mist Dragon's prey. It is easily thick enough to completely blind the target as well. Although not caustic, its super-hot temperature is enough to severely injure, or kill, its prey with third degree burns. Though perhaps still not as potent as the ongoing burns of a Black Dragon's acidic breath weapon, the Mist Dragon's Mist Breath arguably compensates with its ability to both blind its target and provide itself with total concealment from the layers and layers of watery mist that is produced.

Behavior:

Mist Dragons are solitary by nature and tend to dislike interactions with other creatures. Though disliking conversation, Mist Dragons are impeccable philosophers. They are said to spend hours upon hours in silent isolation, brooding over various ethical and metaphysical philosophy. They care very little for the usual affairs of Toril. Similar to how a Red Dragon greedily hordes gold and other physical riches, Mist Dragons have similar compulsive behavior toward philosophical knowledge.

Traditional enemies of the Mist Dragon include Black and Green dragons, usually over territorial disputes. Mist Dragons tend to prefer evasion over direct combat, using trickery and confounding their bigger kin. The persistent pursuit that chromatics often show towards Mist Dragons is often so severe that physical conflict becomes inevitable. The chromatics are much larger than the Mist Dragons, and often use such size difference for intimidation. Common insults against Mist Dragons by their bigger bullies often include the title of "half-drake" clearly attacking their serpentine resemblance to such creatures and implying they are less than True Dragons. Such is false, however... the Mist Dragon's serpentine similarities to drakes are, as far as I understand, coincidental.

Perhaps further study, involving a possible interview gained from luring one out with a stack of rare, philosophical works, would shed more light into the Mist Dragon's exact history and culture (or possibly lack thereof, being solitary as they are) and how it is related to the rest of the dragon-kin, and possibly, even drakes.

- Kadri Saar, Follower of the Fire Lord and Evoker of the Thayan Enclave

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part I
Saint Merielle

Preface

Stories are meant to be told and handed down. Memories are meant to be held no matter how painful or precious they are. This serves both. This story... is one I am very familiar with. I shall seek to tell it as best as I am able.

I am only one voice of many that spoke. One hand of many that acted. One quill of many that was set to parchment. One pair of eyes that saw so much among many that saw so much more. I am one part in a tale that touched many lives. One who lives among many who have seen death, and been given a second chance. I am one mind of many that is filled with thoughts. I am one heart of many that wept or laughed. I am one soul among many that sought a path in this tale.

Prologue: The First Steps

It started, no doubt, long before I could remember. From birth? Or a time before? I could not say. So many years lost. Childhood days, into that of a young girl... all fragments and fleeting images and sensations. Each step, guided... though I could see it not. Through kindness of the gods, or cruelty of fate... I was spared death. The cost was those memories from the sixteen years prior. Some would say the years that came after were a cruelty unnecessary. That I should have been spared those years... I do not think so, now... though I might have loathed my circumstance. The steps of my path, shaped my thoughts and actions. Even the steps that were not my own. Subtly guided by a hand I would never see in those days, or understand. Small kindnesses to find me all those years. But this story, though rooted here... is not of those dark and shadowed years.

Nor is a story of the years that I spent in the care of the Ilmatari in Trademeet. Though, this was when I began to understand the path I had walked all the years before. I was around my twenty-second season then. I may as well have been fifteen still. Even freed, under the light of day, after four years in the Underdark, I gave myself little freedom. I was wary my own thoughts and choices. Wary of the road that now stretched ahead of me. This was my path however, and I was finally beginning to understand the hand that had guided me so far. I was understanding just who it was that had urged me to be strong. The gentle voice that comforted in the twilight moments between pain and unconsciousness. I was even starting to understand the origin of the energy I could use to mend and protect...

It is not a story of the days I arrived in Baldur's Gate at twenty-six seasons. Though this... would be the setting for the events to come. I would come to this place, wide-eyed and as green as the spring grass. I would not yet wear the robes of a priestess, but the trappings of a wandering healer. I would learn much in the coming months, of this city I had come to, and the coast that surrounded it. It isn't a story of what I learned, how I tried to do what I could when I could. It isn't a story of the friendships that were made and broken as the tendays passed.

I would step foot in the humble shrine. in a nearly forgotten alley way in the far corner of the city, and I would learn, more as the days passed, that much was yet to come. The subtle workings of my every step, word and thought. The culmination of the Hand of Ilmater... and the workings of the Multi-verse... The schemes of men and gods alike... Would each, in some small way, lead to events that would reshape the lives of many. This is not the story of how a simple healer became something much more complex, though all things that happened in the story have not only reshaped the people of the Coast, the lands and the faiths there in... It reshaped me. I am no longer what I was, as the lands and the people are no longer what they were.

No it is, not my story alone, but a story of the lands and the people that shared my path, my burdens, and more. It is a story of those who would cross my path, however briefly, for good or ill. So many were touched by it. It is difficult to tell, and I can only offer my view. Perhaps others would be willing to speak on it as well. I am merely one voice of many... one part of several... one side in a multi-facetted tale. So many things all swirling around some unseen nexus.

At that juncture, Bhaal stood, with plans fearsome and shadowed, opposed by Ilmater. This is the story of war and blood... A story of suffering and survival... A story of healing and renewal. This is the story that lead to the siege of the Bhaalist temple... The story that should not be forgotten as laughter fills the Friendly Arm Inn. Memories are precious... be they blessing or bane.

A Handful and a Prayer

I had moved through my duties, getting to know the people and the place well. It was evident though, after a month in the city, that there were very few Ilmatari in the region. I had revisited Trademeet, only to be sent back. I had been told that perhaps my task was to offer Mercy to a land where there was none. A task I accepted. By that time there were many I did consider friends, though I found no other Ilmatari that did not already work in the temple and did not pass through for a day or two. It is strange to never be free, only to find both freedom and faith... and then be set out on the world with a handful of prayers.

Mice Alani, a friend, young and hopeful, she wished to become an initiate of the Ilmatari. She, like the two other budding Ilmatari, looked to me for guidance, though I was hardly fit for the role. There were no others in those days. The four of us, who had been on the Coast mere months, and Sisters Rachel, Adolina, Juna and Brother Marcus. We were the Ilmatari in the area. The latter half hardly ever left the temple, their duty was within the walls... Ours was without. We heard stories of the ones who had come before us. We did not aspire to adventure, or greatness or fame. We simply wished to heal, to help. Less than a dozen. A handful of faithful.

It was one evening, colored by the normal bittersweet air that the Coast lived and breathed, that Mice sought me out. She had been with an adventuring group, and they had gone near the Banite temple. For whatever reason, they entered the temple. To find a group guarding a single ring. A ring bearing Ilmater's holy symbol. Commonly found among the clergy. Of those who would work outside the temple... Mice and I remained. The other two, we had presumed to have left the coast for Damara or other regions. Neither of us held such a ring. Mice was not even an initiate yet, and I was still a budding novice. Funny how a handful of unanswered questions can lead to so much...

She worried for my sake. That the Banites or the Bhaalists meant the Ilmatari ill will. They had always done so. I did not doubt that they would do so again. We didn't know who the ring had belonged to, or how it ended up in a Banite temple... Nor did we know, then that it was a precursor. We made plans to investigate the ring itself and the circumstances surrounding it. The bearer of the ring would be presumed missing... or dead... with nothing we could do. Our worry would grow with a handful of ill whispers as the days would follow.

Still, we pressed on, unaware of the shadows lurking beyond our grasp and sight. Days of duties passed, and no answers were found or presented. Mice and I, did the best we could as trouble and turmoil reached for every part of the coast. We offered healing, granted strength and peace to those we could. We endured, as Ilmatari, as people, as friends on little more than a handful of hope.

It was in those following, wet winter tendays that two children would come to us. Tattered and cold and hungry. The girl would come first. Nearly nine. Dianne. So sweet and precious. She would help in the soup kitchen. She would be followed two days later by a boy barely seven. William. But he insisted everyone called him Billy. He would help with the sweeping and other tasks. The two of them were a welcome gift at the temple. Willing, helpful hands. In exchange they were fed, given shelter, and a warm bed. The days would pass well for nearly a month. We would grow to love them, and cherish each handful of laughter they gifted us.

As the days passed, there would be many threats from the Bhaalists... and one or two from the allies they had in the Banite temple. Mostly rumors and ill words. We did not understand why they were bearing us such ill intent. There were many goodly faiths on the coast. Why single out one that had less than a dozen faithful? Now there were only five of us. Mice had gone to Damara, mostly so she could remain safe. We could sense the storm brewing, but had no way to know for certain what was to come. If not for those in the temple, and the children, I would have stood alone in my faith. Thankfully... I had many friends dear and loyal. It was for them that I prayed. For the Coast. Something was brewing... and I prayed we could endure it.

Messengers of Bhaal

There were many. Assassins that would seek to fell me in the shadows near the temple. Bloodied victims with Bhaal's symbol carved into their foreheads. Murderer's faithful would strike at the innocent and weak nearest me. Tell me if the Ilmatari truly cared, we would leave. Abandon our temple and the people. Those days were difficult. Bodies piled by the dozens at my feet.

"I know your faith is strong my child. Do not sway from your tasks."

The constant comfort of Ilmater... and instruction. We were not to leave. As I lifted Bhaalist curses, drew those I could back from death... My allies keeping me standing when I had little strength to do so on my own. In those days deed and loyalty spoke for itself. They promised me, in friendship, in faith, in kindness, in some things greater than that which even I could understand... for the good of so many, that -we- would stand.

As battle after battle passed, we did what we could. The Bhaalists became more insistent. I drew their anger. For a time my calls for aid, the messages I had sent to other temples, allies of Ilmater... they would be returned to the temple, bloodied... the messengers that bore them never heard from again. They would dagger angry letters to the temple door. Blood soaked and insidious. And still we would stand and fight. We grew confident in our numbers, our skills and faiths.

I had asked over and over, why should the Ilmatari leave the lands. The message they delivered was clear:

"Hope is an emotion we cannot afford among the populace."

The Shadow of Murder: The Whispers in the Dark

I had remained, though many times I found myself shaken by the suffering around me. My god had bid me stand, and I wondered often if I could have stand if not for those willing to keep me standing. Friendship and Faith. My bread and water in those days.

The Bhaalists would send a very specific message to me now, as other tactics failed. His voice would be little more than a whisper in the dark at first. He would bid me go, lest more suffered. Ilmater commanded I stay. This whisper was often followed by another dead, another note, another battle. Bhaal's servants had little trouble finding me. It was those days that began to stretch endlessly. Duty passed into sleepless or restless nights. Whispers or nightmares... I slept so little in those days.

I had passed my days as a Novice. Brother Marcus named me among the Adorned as there was none other, and I found myself overseeing the temple as much as praying there. I questioned myself. Bhaal's Shadow had no qualms about adding to my doubts. I had been an initiate for more than a year. A novice less than a few months. Now I stood, as an adorned. A solitary figure, with scarce the power to recall the dead. Ever did the Shadow bid me go.

Always my heart bid me stay. My faith gave me strength, my friends helped me stand... if not for that, I might have left. People were suffering because I chose to stay... he said. In the heart of my heart, I knew he was right... and often I felt helpless. I learned what it meant to be so tested. It is not the torments of the mind and body that are most difficult to endure... For I had done so. What shook me... was these tests of faith. To sit patient at the urgings of Ilmater, when my every fiber bid me to move. And yet I learned to endure.

Cruel whispers testing at my weeping heart. My troubled thoughts further churned by the anger he would incite. Threats against the others. Sister Rachel, a medicinal healer, was often there to help as I needed it. I learned much from her. Sister Juna, my elder, and often my strength in those wary days, would offer encouragement and well placed words, but even she is not so much a fighter. Sister Adolina, our beloved Kitchener, not so much a healer of a fighter, but a kindred heart, never raised more than a ladle in defense. Brother Marcus, how I treasured his wisdom. He was stalwart, but his age was gaining on him. And this Shadow would threaten these! How it angered me.

Cowards who would strike from the shadows and flee. They preyed on the innocent and the helpless alike. I found myself more and more at opposition. The battles more frequent, the whispers grew dark and colder still. I had been serving both in Baldur's Gate, and in Candlekeep's Infirmary. My traveling ceased as I sought to protect those in the temple. Those who served and those we aided. Travel south past the looming structure became difficult... for the Shadow kept them apprised of my actions, and often ambushes laid in wait.

For all the darkness of -those- days... I would understand it to such a depth I had never known. I would look back on whispers in the dark, and pray that it was this... which was the worst of my troubles.

The Magus and the Mark

Still in those days, there were bright rays of hope. Billy and Dianne. How they would lighten my heart with childhood antics and laughter. They saw each other as brother and sister. We had become a family. People brought donations of food, clothing, toys, healing supplies. Love and loyalty, so perfectly exemplified in the friends that surrounded me. It was this that kept me strong, and this that the Bhaalists would seek to undo. Indeed I found allies... in many places, some of them strange... some of them unwise... but in those days we needed all the help we could get. Not all shadows that took step within my own meant me ill... It was perhaps this strength that forced Bhaal's faithful to stronger tactics.

The magus, an unnamed face in this unfolding war, he first appeared as a traveler. Veiled threats and honeyed words that hid the venom there. He would tell me he had just returned from donating to the temple... And I would make my way there to find bloody coins on the alters. Or large sums of gold to "help us relocate..." Or find the Sisters badly shaken by ill threats. I would see him a few times. I would, however, miss the forest for the trees. I would not see him for the threat he was... until it nearly cost me something too dear... And it would set into motion events that would be so far reaching...

Billy would run from the temple one day. Swift, despite that we would give chase. I knew the dear child well enough by now to be worried by such actions. We were told the boy seemed alone but that he headed south at a dead run... The fear I had felt then. The worry. I would be accused of seeing them as my own children in the months that followed. And perhaps they were right.

By the time we caught up to Billy, myself and several others, he stood there just north of the accursed temple. With the Magus. He taunted me with his expression... His hand clamped on Billy's shoulder. Billy looked so small and afraid. My mind moved back to the day that Billy had told me the magus had gifted him a dagger... a dagger which bore Bhaal's symbol. A taunt. An effective one as I had guarded the children and the temple closely since then... But this day, I realized it was hardly close enough.

To say the scene was tense was an understatement. I inched closer to Billy, and the Magus watched closely. The others continued to plead with Billy, who was convinced the Magus would kill us all if he didn't cooperate. That poor dear, sweet child... All that he would suffer in this tale. This is the first... a burden he would understand in time, but never should have had to bear.

The battle that day began when the Magus struck Billy down. It unleashed in me, a fury for battle I hadn't known I possessed. I had taken no formal vows. No vow of nonviolence or peace... but I had adhered to a code... a promise made to myself to never strike without cause. This day... I was given cause. This day and every day there after, I promised to end Bhaal's faithful. In my anger I wished to utterly destroy the temple, brick by brick with my bare hands if I had to. In my anger and panic that overcame me when I thought the man had killed the child... I missed the lurking ambush.

We nearly didn't make it back to the safety of the city. Billy was alive we had all survived. The Magus had escaped us that day... To add insult to injury, Billy would be plagued by nightmares. The true weight of what had transpired that day would not settle on our shoulders for a few days. We discovered a mark, the very faintest outlines of Bhaal's unholy symbol on the back of his shoulder. Not a tattoo or some such... but almost like a scar... Faint...

After some days of research, my heart was heavy with the knowledge of what now lay ahead. They marked Billy. They wished to use him in a ritual. It required corruption of a pure soul, an innocent... and other things that I wished not to contemplate. The end result was frightening enough. They wished to make of this child I held so dear to my own heart... a physical avatar of the God I had fought. Worse still, I was unsure how to mend what they had done. It was a very solid blow that the enemy had delivered. I prayed. The answer I was given was simple:

"I am watching my child. Both you and Young William will have a choice... Have faith my child. Keep him safe."

Faith... Is strength... And that Faith would later destroy the magus... though the mark would persist. The magus swore, both in life and undeath, that Bhaal would have his vessel, and that there was nothing I could do to stop it. His words were not going to sway me. I would not let them complete this ritual, though at the time... I knew not how to stop it. It would be faith that sustained me. No longer would they ask me to leave... only to surrender. This was a war now. I would not surrender. We would not fail. None of us would allow Bhaal his victory.

A Dream Among Nightmares

An Excerpt From the Sixtieth Journal Entry

I had been so tired. More so than normal. I scarce remember making apologies to the others that night as we finished dinner. I think sleep found me before I lay my head on the pillow...

I remember dreaming... Visions of the last few weeks filling through my mind, the pleasant, the unpleasant. Flashes of images and sounds... little more than a rapid push through my mind, images that left little more than sensation of light and feeling... Largely though there was emotion a great wash of it. A tumultuous raging sea of triumph, defeat, happiness, sadness, chaos and calm... And all at once something strange took hold. The waters of my mind went still and quiet, the color and sensation vanished if only for an instant... As though a great hand reached down and plucked me out and drew me into a comforting embrace.

All at once I stood in the middle of a glade surrounded by mist and the song of a peaceful night. I panicked as I realized that I was unable to move, and I was not alone. My fear of the figure in the fog was quickly replaced by concern as he seemed injured. I peered through the fog as he hobbled forward. On instinct borne of so many years as a healer the question bubbled up from me as I wondered if I had left the temple and not remembered... A dream perhaps? It felt so... strange... but comforting, peaceful... I felt truly safe for the first time that I could ever remember. Safe...

"Sir are you alright?"

His voice held a warmth and a hint of amusement as he spoke.

"Merielle my child... I was about to ask you that question."

My eyes grew wide as the fog shifted around us slightly giving view of my elderly host. Elderly indeed, for what stood before me was the countenance of one of the oldest Gods in Faerun. Bent and battered, wholly unhindered by pain, hands bound by red cord, there stood Ilmater before me. He smiled on me then... All the warmth and peace held in those eyes was enough to draw tears to my own. For a long moment I could not speak.

"Times have become hard for you my child, have they not?"

Still I could not speak... I could not look on his face, for what could I have done to be granted such an honor? I nodded slowly, still awestruck I stood as he spoke.

"I have been watching over you with close eyes. Mercy guides your steps and it warms my heart..."

When finally words found my voice and my voice remembered how to leave me, they were quiet, barely above a choked whisper.

As he spoke of my burdens, and offered to ease them... to bear them, such grace I am unworthy of... I looked up in surprise as he spoke:

"I endure as I should... I regret none of it."

Even though I dared not look upon his face then, I felt his warm smile there, his eyes looking down over my bowed head.

"It is why you are my Favoured above all others."

The words came forth with such finality, such declaration that it shook my core. In all my years, I have been called many things that I felt I did not deserve. Be them blessing or bane, insult or sign of respect... of all the things I felt most undeserving of in all my days, this... Here beneath the gaze of Ilmater himself... This is what I felt most undeserving of. My words came haltingly, thick with emotion and uncartain.

"I... I deserve no such title."

"You give of yourself and ask nothing in return."

He spoke of the tasks before me. Of dear Billy. How I must protect him no matter the cost. How I must not let him fall to the hands of Bhaal and his ilk. I sought his guidance then, unsure how to combat this foe I face in the name of Ilmater. He spoke of my faith and my allies, assuring me that this task before me, while difficult was not impossible.

"This mark, it is not a finality. What is done can be undone. Keep your faith close to you my child."

"My faith is ever my strength."

I bowed deeply, accepting this charge as I was bid. This task that was mine of my own choosing is now a command of my lord, and I will not fail him, no matter the cost.

"You have always walked mercy's path true and unwavering... for this I am grateful. Come closer and kneel my child."

I looked to his outstretched arms in stunned silence. Feeling as though something had been struck deep within me and rang through my entire being I trembled, so in awe was I that I could not help but ask, incredulously and my voice full of doubt.

"You... are grateful to -me- my lord...?"

"Of course Merielle. You are a beacon of my faith on Toril. I wish to offer you a gift, to help you in the days to come."

Again he beckoned me closer. Somehow my wobbly legs found the strength to move, and that short span between where I stood and where my god stood beckoning seemed to span for miles. I stumbled forward knees buckling as I knelt before him and I murmured softly:

"I am but your humble servant Ilmater..."

He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and in that instant... there was a blinding flash. I felt the whole of my being align in harmony as strength and comforting warmth washed over me. My soul wept in joy as the fears were lifted. My oaths and vows renewed, my spirit made whole in that thunderous moment... it was... beyond understanding, beyond the scope that words could encompass.

As my eyes struggled to see beyond the blinding light, he lifted my chin. I kneeled there feeling much like a small child in the company of a giant as I looked at him. His eyes steady and piercing, his smile so full of kindness and peace, it seemed unworthy of the simple term "smile".

There was a seriousness in his tone as he bid me...

"Use this gift with good intent my child."

"Always."

I managed... and as the words failed me yet again, he knew the oath of my heart and he smiled on me again.

"I will be ever watching you my child. May Mercy guide your steps Merielle."

"Thank you..."

I am not sure if I actually spoke, if I did it was a breathy whisper... I watched as he turned and walked into the mist and faded from my view. I knelt there, the song of the night finally reaching my ears again... the air was cool and damp as I drew breath into my lungs. As I rose to stand as the scene around me dissolved slowly, fading into darkness.

I had the sensation of falling a great distance, very quickly... and all at once I opened my eyes to stare at the ceiling of the temple over my bed. I wondered how my heart could contain such joy as I rose from the bed feeling completely rested and renewed.

Missing?

Upon searching the sanctuary, William is nowhere to be found. All his belongings are gone as well and a letter is left on his bed. The script is messy and words are misspelled...

Sister Merielle,

By now I'm sure you have found my dagger. I can't face you again after going against your wishes. I've left to find out how to become a great hero! I will make you proud of me, I swear. Once I've learned how to survive on my own I will be able to protect the Sanctuary better. Please don't be sad... Please don't try to look for me, I will be ok. The sore on my back is get'n better I think. It only hurts when I get mad. I will return a great hero, until then take care of Dianne... Tell her I'm sorry for leaving.

Love,
William

Looking back on it now... the visions came when I would need them most. Hours. Esen and Tarnok tracked him south. I had scoured the city. The Bhaalist Dagger in my pocked, taunted me... urged me forward. Billy had left, I was sure he had been tricked into believing we were angry with him. Tricked into believing that he could not protect us when we needed it... Tricked into leaving.

I could not count the tears or the prayers left at the altar. I can barely put into words the gambit of emotions we ran. There was little to no sleep, until the hours of searching and walking between the days blurred... or perhaps it was merely fear and worry that blurred though? Tears that blurred sight? I was reminded that even I was not so impartial to my anger in those days. Nightmares plagued what little rest I did manage. Those dark days of anguish... I remained standing mostly because of those I called friend and ally.

My faith in myself shook. This child I was to protect... and he had slipped away in the night... The faith of my own god in me seemed misplaced, and yet... His hand never turned from me. It was that which sustained me. The unspoken reassurance that I had not yet failed. My hopes further given lift when we got word that he was seen near Candlekeep.

A hurried trek south, and examination of the small campsite near the keep, revealed that he had been there recently... but was gone. There in the dirt... drawn by a shaking and scared hand... Ilmater's symbol. Drawn as I had watched Billy draw it so many times. Stolen from us by Murder... but Mercy remained in his heart. We renewed our search, but with no immediate success. Though he had gone no further south than Beregost. I remained near Candlekeep in hope that he would be near...

A day later... he was found, very near the keep. We had attempted to return to Baldur's Gate, only to be ambushed by Bhaalists. Ilmater had bid me to protect Billy at all costs... It was this command that had me carrying the boy to Candlekeep. A dead run, as battle raged behind us... Shielding him from the sight of the battle, and weeping. It was friends who stayed behind. Met steel with steel and spell with spell... I dared not look back and prayed that Ilmater would guard them from death.

It wasn't until much later that I realized my mistake in trying to protect Billy from the painful truths of the burden he bore... the burden I bore... the burden we all carried. It wasn't until later I realized... that while death had not been asked of those who fought with me... it would be some day... and they were willing to offer it. Despite Bhaal's faithful doing all they can to keep us isolated, my pleas for aid had reached willing hearts, and already the faithful were trickling in. Some returning to the region... some new to it altogether.

The most painful part of this ordeal however... would come the day after Billy was found. We would realize that our enemy had indeed spirited him away with deceitful whispers, and that the enemy... would actually return him to us. A means to mock me. Further pain my heart. For they had cemented Bhaal's hold... they had tricked Billy into taking a life. Billy had believed he was protecting the Hin that was speaking with him. A man pretending to be a bandit approached while Billy was camped there... and the boy, alone and scared had befriended the Hin... Billy had no way of knowing both men were Bhaal's faithful. One willing to die for his dark lord... the other... His nature was yet to be revealed...

We would remain at Candlekeep for a time... researching and trying desperately to find a way to undo the curse. Ilmater and Bhaal, each tugging at the poor child's soul... Bhaal meant to destroy it, Ilmater to protect it. Had I been wiser, I would not have sought to protect Billy from the circumstances surrounding his situation. I should have been more adamant in my warnings that it was important for him not to take a life... As it were... the choice that Ilmater had spoke of... had come to pass.

I had failed him... but it wasn't all lost. Even then, Ilmater bid me hope... as we prepared for the days to come. My choice... or choices were yet to come. The enemy had been revealed to us... as had our own weaknesses. We rallied and renewed ourselves. Something else lurked... Something else was wrong... but what? What had happened to Billy in the days he was away from us?

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part II
Saint Merielle

Isolation... Darkness... Demon...

Our situation would grow ever more dire. The Bhaalists had taken to murdering innocent. Common folk, children, mothers, young sons... Slowly it would turn the people against us. We would be unable to return to the temple. Simply because each time we left, we were ambushed by Bhaalists. So we remained at Candlekeep. My heart wept for Dianne, who I would send letters to, and she would write in turn... I would find allies slipping away under the strain...

This would force me to gather allies of a questionable sort. Some could see, that if Bhaal succeded, it would be dire to all. Some could see, and were willing to aid. Some for a price... some for their own reasons. We were isolated in those days. I found myself clinging to a loyal few, among those were thieves, murderers, men whose souls were plagued by demons... and even an ally whose very presence would mean my death.

For all the shadows that plagued us... the darkness that closed on us, would become ever more cloying in a matter of days. Billy would begin to change. Water he would try to drink would turn to poison at his touch... food would turn to ash... He began to transform, his skin grew dark looking almost burnt, he always ran a fever in those days. A tail would sprout. The mark on his shoulder would grow ever more complete, slowly... tauntingly... I would pour over tome after tome, trying to find a way to stop what was happening. All the while... the boy who I was unable to comfort as I wished to... lay in my lap, clinging to life by my faith alone.

I would nearly fall to despair in those few days to come. Prayers, desperate and searching would mingle with thoughts that were wreathed in shadow and pain. Billy was possessed. But without the creature's name, it was of such a power, there was little else we could do. Tome after tome... It was in those days that I would come across something else, at the time... I didn't understand what I had found... I would not until sometime later.

An excerpt
Also more blessings to count... So fortunate am I. After all this reading... I am finding hints to information that may well lead to the keys of Billy's freedom. Seems this demon coiled within Billy is in this whole mess to further his own power. Unfortunately as demons go, that doesn't necessarily limit down our choices any. However I am starting to think that the mystery's solution lies not in the demon, and not entirely in the ritual... But in the God himself... or the man the god once was. I have the suspicion that there may be some link between the mortal and the boy...

And after so much searching... I find another clue.

I come to the book "The Rise and Fall of Netheril" and while the majority of the text did pertain solely to such histories, there was a far more detailed account of the tale surrounding Jergal's willing dethroning. Strangely it went on to list the names of the three men who eventually ascended to godhood... butthe names were... absent from the page. Hidden? For what purpose? The protection of the innocent or the protection of more sinister parties? I peered at the page, part of me knowing that the answers I sought may yet lie in one or all of those names and felt my own frustrations boiling just beneath the surface. I closed myself and willed myself calm both inward and outward.

My eyes fell on Billy... Somewhere amid the storm of emotion, I found my resolve. So far Ilmater I have failed you... But I intend to see it remedied... and as I prayed reverently for the mystery hidden on the page to be revealed to me... I cannot say that I truly expected an answer. I felt myself fallen from the favor of my god, dearest and truest to my heart, and that gentle voice absent so long from my thoughts... though my heart longed for such, it held no beat in anticipation.

A name flashed before my eyes... the veil carefully lifted for the briefest of moments. As my mind's eye struggled to grasp what was there, a soft whisper trickled through my troubled thoughts:

'This name Merielle, is not to be spoken lightly. It holds power and would prove dangerous to those that know it. Keep it safe, my chosen.'

As the name danced through my mind, tumbled and cemented itself in my thoughts, I felt my very soul shuddering... weeping... as my being sought to cling to that gentle comfort, and soft warmth that in my heart I knew I did not deserve. Chosen? I deserve no such title... I flail about clumsily in my duty, nearly bringing about the end of all things that we seek to preserve. And still he opens his arms to me. I am humbled in a way that quakes through the depths of all I am, and resonates in a way I cannot describe.

'Walk knowing I walk with you my child. Let mercy guide your steps'.

I sat there... unsure of the pass of time as comfort rippled through me. Renewed and lifted from the darkness, again I saw hope's light, that flickering flame... and no longer was it some fragile ember... but a flame full of warmth and light to brighten the darkness.

An Answer to a Prayer

An Excerpt

I thought myself empty, fallen from favor and without direction... I know now that my heart should have never doubted. I knew this, but doubts tore at me nonetheless. I continued my uneasy trek through the insanities of one who spent too much time in the bowels of the Multiverse. It is a slow and tiresome journey. It is difficult to understand the words that dance across the pages. Buried deep in obscurity I often find myself wondering at the sinister and hidden meanings that lay beneath the difficult to read passages. Some of it is largely disturbing at best... and the worst of it... leaves me shoving the book beneath a blanket and under the couch to pace the inn. I think perhaps there are some parts of the Multiverse that we are not meant to walk... not meant to see and know...

I had felt sleep pushing in from the fringes of my being for a long while... a day or two... and defiantly, I pushed it away. Even as it grew steadily more insistent as I tried to read, I dreaded it. Sometimes there is little more terrifying than facing oneself in the unprotected terms of nightmare-scapes. I worked the words before my eyes with careful deliberation and still could not maintain my fight. There was something more suddenly... that lent strength to sleep's ceaseless push... And at last... I felt myself tumbling into the deepness of it.

But as I sought a foothold in my mind, and dreaded what lay in store, gentle tendrils of familiar mist reached up to me. A soothing place of solace beckoned me and I welcomed the calm of it. As the mist rolled, the rest of the dream stilled. The quiet sounds of night greeted my ears, the sensation of gentle breezes and soft grass, the smell of damp, fragrant earth, and my eyes began to focus on the moonlit landscape, a warm fire before me. As I peered across the flames to the figure that stood there, he spoke.

"Hello again my child..."

My eyes could not bear that gentle, comforting, smile that I felt so unworthy of. To stand before he who bid me protect the child... I bowed my head deeply.

"Ilmater!"

The word fell from my lips, as much a reverent cry as an exclamation... That he could still call me his child. It was his right, for indeed I had belonged to this God of Mercy and Comfort more fully than I had ever belonged anywhere in all my years. And yet, to be devoted wholly to your faith, to hear your Lord speak is one thing, to know you act in his honor and will, it is completely separate from the utterly humbling chance to stand before him. Least of all of this, to do so twice... the honor and implication of such so reverberated trough me that I could not but comply and sit as he bid me do so gently, for if I did not, surely my legs would not hold me up.

"Come sit, tell me what troubles you... Unburden yourself to me."

"My troubles... my lord... my own failings..."

My words came slowly and in my shame I wanted to weep at his feet, beg his forgiveness. I dared not meet his gaze, so I stared into the flames as his words washed through my soul.

"Failings? How so?"

My voice a pained thing, barely above a whisper. I spoke uncertainly.

"Should I have acted differently to protect Billy better? He... Killed."

I fully expected his wrath... at the least of this, his disappointment.

I heard the unfailing gentleness in his voice, and though I dared not look to him, felt his compassion wash over me like a warm rain. The emotion so great I feared I could not breathe, so I merely listened to his words.

"Is he alright? And I know of his transformation, but is he well?"

The question was more for my benefit as I found as soon as I answered.

"He is... Safe... I have not left his side. He sleeps..."

"Then how is it you have failed?"

I fought the urge to weep still, and my ache for Billy's discomforts and peril choked my heart. My words rushed forth in a wave of emotion.

"He cannot eat, he cannot drink! I worry for him... In his sleep he suffers, and I know not how to assuage it!"

His words quelled my pain and despair so completely that I felt naught but hope... I felt my spirit's renewal as he spoke.

"The answers you seek will come with time, my child. You have -The Name- now. Keep it within your mind. Never speak of it if you can."

"I will, my lord. I will search the tomes myself if I must, so long as you guide me still."

I looked up at him then, and he nodded. I knew in my heart he would not turn from me, and there was no longer room for doubt. Indeed I was so full of hope and faith, I felt I might burst.

"Find the answers you seek. They will come to you... Have Faith."

I nodded and smiled softly. No longer did shame draw my head down, but my lifted spirits held my gaze high.

"This..."

He paused his words and cast some powerful ward on the dream-scape, and I was reminded, even in my faith, just how dangerous our foe was.

"This Jhaalza'lyrm the Ravenous, he is your problem now, correct?"

I nodded slowly, realizing the boon that he just granted me. For in my reading I had learned the value of knowing the demon's name. My gaze met his as I committed the name to my mind as deeply as the other.

"The one who speaks through Billy?"

"Yes, the Lord of Murder's pet. The Balor."

"He has threatened to kill Billy in a few days time if I do not bend to his wishes. I pray it is an idle threat."

"He will not harm the boy. Bhaal would flay his flesh from his scorched bones if he did. Remain vigilant Merielle. This demon... may prove bothersome though."

"Do I face this pet? I you will it, I will do so."

"It acts under the will of a god. It doesn't hold the same rules as its kin. I do not wish to place you in harm's way, my child. But should you face him... take these."

As I wondered what danger was within this creature that my God worried for my well being, he blinked, and a chest appeared. He motions me to the chest, and I walk slowly over. There in the chest are a pair of gloves. Soft of worn leather, they emanated some powerful strength. I sensed in them the power to harm those who stood to undo the will of Mercy. I lifted them carefully from the chest, looking at the gift in wonderment.

"You honor me my Lord".

My voice came in a humbled whisper as I turned from the chest and bowed to him. He smiled on me yet again, for this time my bow was not in shame, but in deepest, humble respect. I listened as he told me of the history of them.

"Those gloves were once the property of a Favored of mine. He battled through countless wars, aiding those in need. He was known to become very angry when those in his charge were threatened or in danger. Some of his essence is contained within them now. Use them wisely, my Chosen."

"A grand gift. I shall seek to do so. Ilmater".

He said nothing further, but nodded to me, smiling as he faded into the mist. I sat still a long moment after he had fallen away from my mind, and drank in the peace of the dream. The mist caressed the air around me as I sat in thoughtful repose. Such a sacrifice that this Favored made... and now he aids my cause with his strength and his righteous anger. He, through these gloves, shall bring harm to the enemies of Mercy, where I might not have been able to do so.

As I wondered what made me worthy of such a thing, I felt sleep retreating from me. I woke suddenly, the light of morning on my face, and the gloves in my lap. With the dream fresh in my mind I took quill and ink to parchment quickly, seeking to remember every detail of it.

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part III
Saint Merielle

At All Costs

In a time when allies were few, and my oath to protect Billy at all costs, I would make a dangerous choice. I would accept help... that by all reasoning was a death sentence. It would be called treason by some, foolish by others... but to this day it is a choice I do not regret. It was a choice I had to make. The boy I protected was withering before me. The demon within continued to try convince me that the only way to save him was to hand him over to the Bhaalists. This... I would not do. Even if I had to damn myself in the process... I would not surrender Billy.

The nature of my visions would be questioned. I would begin to be accused of being lead astray. I would be struck down for allies I had... For choices I made. I would be called a fanatic, I would be told that my love for the children clouded my judgement. While my love for them was great, it did not cloud my thoughts, but clarify them. Faith alone sustained me as Ilmater urged me ever onward.

The choice I would make would garner me banishment from Baldur's Gate. Painful as that was... It was one of many things I would surrender for an oath I had taken at the feet of Ilmater. When there were no other willing... A few remained at my side. We were an odd assortment of people drawn together by a surreal set of circumstances. Many wished me dead then. Some even succeeded. And yet, it was this odd assortment that kept me standing. I owe them each to much...

Armed with the name of the demon that plagued Billy... I asked aid of those who would offer it. We needed to get rid of the demon before it destroyed Billy... And all who had turned from me... There were very few up to the task. Of those who answered? An elf... A Drow. Given my history this choice was painful enough. Given the laws of the land... the land I now called home and love... and this land would see me, for a time... as traitor.

We would banish the demon. I would be banished from Baldur's Gate. The saving grace? The reason I live? A promise not to seek aid from such again. An explanation that there truly was no other way... and the understanding that if we failed... There would be worse things to fear than the Drow. Worse things to fear than pact bound warlocks... or demon possessed children... or even a fanatic who claimed visions from her god... If we failed... There would be no Mercy for any... in the wake of Murder.

I would also find no further sanctum in Candlekeep. Said to be a danger to others, Billy and I would travel further south. Rifts created by a single desperate choice that would take much to mend. Rifts that I still do not regret. For if we had not acted when we did... all would have been lost.

Put your mind at ease. The Drow who aided me is dead, his name all but forgotten. The demon was not destroyed. Only banished. That would come later. In the events to come... Those who shunned me for my choice, would finally understand why I made it. As we fled to Beregost, Bhaal cultists on our heels, the boy, still weak, but free of the demon. He would sleep. A merciful sort of sleep that spared him much as his body and mind sought to recover. Bhaal's pet could no longer torment him... there would be darker days ahead. For while free of the demon, there was still many battles to be waged for his soul. There would be mending... eventually. I have heard it said that things get worse before they get better... I had never seen it so fully exemplified before, but I was about to.

Bhaal's chosen, Shadow of Murder...would follow us. Try as we might... the enemy knew our steps well. No longer could I so much as leave Billy's side... Bodies and deaths continued to be lain at my feet. The blame borne by my shoulder. I stood, because faith and duty bid me stand. Because these few allies that remained held me upright. Bhaal's chosen? Often little more than a whisper in the night. We would become very familiar with one another as he sought to tear apart my faith and garner my surrender.

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part IV
Saint Merielle

Stolen

The news would come to me, in our forced exodus to Beregost. We had sought sanctum in the Feldepost Inn. They had taken Dianne. It struck me harder than any blow I had yet to endure. They had taken her and intended to barter Dianne for Billy... A choice I refused to make.

"You would be wise to heed our message. The choice is in your hands now Merielle. One will die... one will live..."

Whispers in the dark... in the long span of nights. We searched. Posters-hung all over the coast. Allies old and new looked everywhere. But she could not be found. We had determined that Bhaal's chosen was the one to take her from us... but this fleeting shadow was nearly impossible to catch. He could hide from my eyes. Often he would seek me when the others had gone to find rest. Brief moments when I was alone. Billy slept... Safety became a relative thing. The only thing I could be sure of was my faith... So long as Billy remained in my care... there was hope...

But Dianne...

"The boy WILL be ours, Merielle. Why fight it? You and your weak god cannot stop this. The Lord will have his vessel. Your time is growing short. You have a choice to make. The boy... or the girl..."

I argued and screamed as he taunted and tormented. The nights grew long. She'd been only missing a couple of days. It seemed ages. Meanwhile efforts to find her continued. I clung to the hope if we could find her... we could reclaim her. If only we could find her! We had little to go on. It was decided we would risk scrying for her.

After nearly half a tenday we stood in a room in the Feldpost Inn, Emrys, Selah, who had agreed to scry... Wthyran and a few others who had yet to waver their support, Aleil... -others... there were not many... but there were some who remained. I think a half dozen of us stood there in that small room that day. We thought we were prepared. We knew that what we would face would be most troubling. Very dangerous, these things can be. Very dangerous...

We caught the briefest glance of Dianne through the scry... moments before some massive creature threw itself at us through the scry. I heard Dianne cry out over the battle...

"Save me, Sister Merielle!"

And in that moment, my concentration on the battle faltered... and we were all overcome. When next I knew what was happening... Ilmater spoke again to my heart and thoughts.

Take care when scrying for them my child... It is dangerous. I have saved you this time. Let your Faith be your strength. Mercy will prevail over the darkness. Stay strong my Chosen. Things will be harder before they are made easier. Hold your faith close to you and your loved ones. It will be the beacon of light through the darkness."

And it would be my only beacon in the days to come. A half a tenday would pass since the scrying with no word. Selah had been cursed by Bhaal, her eyes no longer saw, and wept blood tears. It took her some time to recover. In that time... tempers would flare, as we all barely held together under the strain. Selah's trouble would not be resolved for several weeks, and not without cost. Another thing that those who understood the things we faced were dire.

"The Boy, Merielle. I don't know how much more poor Dianne can take..."

She had been missing a little over a tenday when an ill whisper reached my ear. I had since been allowed back into the city... and had scoured the temple for clues. The Bhaalists could not fool everyone... but it was unsafe for Billy and I to be there, if only because mobs calling for surrender were common. So we sat at Candlekeep. Choices made over a month ago, forgiven in light of the circumstances. I was sitting in the inn when the Shadow had whispered so coldly. For emphasis a small finger was placed on the table beside me.

"I will deliver her all to you... eventually. The boy for the girl Merielle."

"You won't have him. I won't give him up."

"Then the girl dies."

The myriad of emotions... I rolled between anguish and anger, fear and hope, faith and despair in those days... Many faces became constant ones. Through it all, my other duties could not go neglected. Idle hours, the few there were, I spent trying to avoid nightmare plagued sleep, and sought solace in prayer.

After nearly two tenday since she had gone missing, another whisper... another threat...as I went about my duties. Never far from Billy these days, for the enemy had grown desperate. Billy stayed now in the most well warded place in all of Candlekeep. The search for Dianne continued, though hope dwindled.

"Her screams are hardly heard any more... she hasn't the strength."

My -soul- wept for the girl who was as dear to me as my own child. I felt so helpless. The choice I didn't want to make... I could not make... At the same hand... I could not surrender Billy. Bhaal's most faithful would strike those dear to me, would whisper in my ear. My nerves raw from all that had come before... And the knowledge of her suffering... shook me to the very core of all my essence... and it threatened to tear me apart.

Those within the Ilmatari begun to turn. Once stalwart allies were growing wary of the endless death and pain. I could not travel without guards... even then... to leave the safety of Candlekeep, well guarded was an invitation to death. Myrkul smiled often in those days I am sure. The people of the coast began to grow impatient after months of suffering at the hands of Bhaal. There were calls for action. Ilmater cautioned that we were not ready. Our allies were not strong enough yet... So we waited. Once again... there were very few who remained at my side... those who did, ever the mainstay... Are the ones that kept me standing... If not for them, the moments of grief would have ended me.

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part V
Saint Merielle

A Bitter Truth

An Excerpt from Merielle's Journal
I slept. I dreamt of that which is not a dream. I stood at the feet of Ilmater. That gentle smile, that wash of comfort in his presence I may never feel I have earned. This time was bittersweet. My focus is renewed. My oath is maintained... the cost was great, and in my anger my steps had faltered. In the grace that is Ilmater's mercy I stood. I let my heart break, knowing the why of it. Knowing that in the end... there is only Mercy...

I asked him of the children, of Dianne... and his answer was a simple beckoning glance to the mist.

"She is with me now Merielle."

My breath caught as I looked to this small hand that had tugged at my cloak. The understanding in that moment... But how can I grieve the loss of something that was always my lords? Her suffering was great. I wished to spare her of it... to draw her away from it... but it was not my place... No matter how my heart and my anger pulled me in this... She rests in the peace and comfort that is Mercy. The truest mercy in the hall's of Ilmater atop Mount Martyrdom... no pain will ever find her. The steps that lead her to such place weighs heavily on my heart... But this peace is hers, a rest more than earned.

"I am safe now, Sister Merielle."

"Oh darling I am glad of that. I... am sorry I could not come get you love."

"I love you Sister Merielle. I know you love me too."

Oh that gentle child... to understand the circumstances that lead her to such a place. An endurance and sufferance few possess. These two dear children that touch my life and my heart. How they teach me of the Mercy I walk in! Our words were bright and full of joy as we talked, for those fleeting moments. A hug my gift, my treasure from her in that place. Her sacrifice in this war against the Lord of Murder will not be in vain... it will not go unremembered. We will not fail. We cannot fail. Mercy must prevail... for the sake of these who suffer... for the sake of those who would suffer similarly should we fail...

"Tell Billy I miss him..."

She smiled and bounded off into the mist. I found words difficult, but in my heart I knew things were as they should be.

"She has found Mercy in death, Merielle. Nothing can harm her now."

"I am glad of that... I am... that she has found peace in your arms."

His smile was a balm to my heart, his words conveyed understanding of the weight of it all.

"I know that it has been hard for you my child."

I looked after Dianne one last moment before our conversation turned again to the tasks at hand. We spoke of Billy. And then came time to address my own failing before it destroyed all I held dear. He looked at me then, a flash of sadness so brief before he spoke the words I knew in my heart I needed to hear, and justly deserved. He spoke of the Hin Bhaalist.

"That one... The Shadow of the Vile One. You let your feelings steer you from the path of mercy."

I bowed my head knowing he was right. As terrible as he was... it is not Mercy's way to hate...

"I am sorry my lord Ilmater."

"I can see the hatred inside of you Merielle. Do not let it consume you."

I could naught but nod my head. I thought of Dianne, of the Hin... and felt my heart twist. There under the gaze of my god I knew the wrongness of it. If the enemy can instill hate in my heart then I am allowing them a small victory they should not have claim to. I must make peace in my heart. If I am to be the hand that acts in the name of Mercy then I must serve only Mercy.

"My heart will be more guarded in dealing with this one."

He nodded then. His gaze was one of a Father to a Child, a Guardian to his charge, a God to one he calls Chosen. Yes. I knew my path. I knew my enemy. I would not let him have purchase in my heart. I cast my anger away from me as Ilmater bid me return to my work. I left my anger in that place... No longer would the Hin's words draw me to hatred.

"Go now... Back to your life, and let Mercy guide your steps."

I woke then, the robes he had given me in my hand, and again I was left to wonder if I had truly slept. I felt rested... Despite the poignancy that laced the meeting... my heart felt lighter. Hate is truly a fearsome weight to bear. It is good I gained that rest, for as I walked from my room... there would be much to do.
--

For all the tears I had cried in the long months... I found so many more. It is... difficult to think of her suffering. I know Ilmater suffered with her... with us... I know... She waits for me at Ilmater's side. I take comfort in that. But for all my hoping... All our trying...
They had killed her. It was a difficult blow to recover from. It disheartened many. We lost much support as news of her death spread. She would be the first child the Bhaalists would take credit for killing.

She would not be the last. There would be six other children. Killed in the night. One of which, another orphan in the temple's care. The children were placed in safer locations. Doors bolted and windows barred... still did not keep the murderers at bay. Grieving mothers and fathers would come to the temple. Demand to know why Billy lived and their child had died... All I could tell them was that if Billy were killed... many more would die.

The sick stopped coming to the temple to be healed, the hungry stopped seeking food from our kitchen, the poor would rather no shelter at all, than risk crossing Bhaal's servants. There were mobs at the temple. Ilmatari that had been instrumental in founding the Sanctuary, were at odds with my oath, saying I was forsaking my own duties. They did not understand, and all my words and assurances were not enough.

In the rolling darkness I clung to the words of Ilmater. To the path I knew I had to walk. Each step was an agony in more ways than I could count. It was the faith of my friends in me, that saved me from utter failure. It would be these friends who tip the balance and renew my own fragile hope.

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part VI
Saint Merielle

Mercy to the Least Deserved

An Excerpt from Merielle's Journal
Unceremoniously the body of the dead Halfling was dropped at my feet. I was confused. I stared at him. I heard Sister Abby asking him to be taken to the infirmary and for a moment I panicked. I was afraid she did not know who this was that lay at my feet. This Shadow of the Vile One... this monster who had taken Dianne from me... taken half a dozen others from their families. I eased when she assured me she had no intention of raising him.

I felt as though my body was weighted heavily as I followed. Dead. He was Dead. He was actually -dead-. I blinked as I stood by the door. In truth I was half afraid this was some cruel dream that I had yet to wake from. I waited... for the Bhaalists to step from the shadows. I watched for the assassin's blades to fall. For the illusion to be dispelled, and the Hin to stand there with that mocking grin of his, alive and well. But he was dead.

I remember asking that they not desecrate the corpse. The words sounded hollow in my ears. He would not show you the same courtesy Mery...
The thought surprised me, and yet, I knew it for truth. Which made the handling of this all the more important. Let it not be said that I waver in my oaths. Let it not be said that I let my anger and my hate consume me. Not only because I gave my word, but because Mercy is what sets me apart from my enemies. Some things are not worthy of forgiveness or even second chances in the eyes of Ilmater... Besides... He got his second chance when I stayed Ian's hand... he squandered it. And in payment for the mercy I granted, he gifted me with the death of another child. I would not allow for it a second time.

I remember praying for the strength, and presence of Mercy enough to do what must be done. Now the test I so dreaded for so long... To show Mercy to one such as this. I stood still and quiet a moment. Part of me wanted to shirk this duty... part of me wanted to turn my back as the hand that fell the fiend further exacted penance from the, now dead hand. Instead I turned to summon the Fist.

"He should be cleansed and prepared so that he does not rise as undead..."

Did I speak? Was I intending to offer this monster proper enough rites that whatever eternity waited for him was his alone, uninterrupted? There are two great mercies to bestow in life. The Mercy to forgive one's self... And the Mercy shown to one's enemy... My test of faith, trial by fire to my oaths made at the feet of Ilmater himself.

"Do not let your hate consime you Merielle..."

I knelt and studied his face. His eyes already clouding with death, remained open. I willed my hand steady as I closed his eyes. His body was cleansed and prepared for proper burial. I whispered a litany of prayers, and the temple was bathed in light. I wrapped the body in white muslin and looked at the guards who would carry it off. What sort of retribution would follow in the wake of his death? Would there be a faithful to take his place? All I could do was pray. For now... a victory of sorts. Perhaps tonight those who love children so, may rest a bit easier. My sincerest gratitude to the blades that fell this cruel shadow...

--

To say I was conflicted, was an understatement. Pride and anger nearly getting the best of me, and perhaps it was pride that urged me more than duty then. I can only ask forgiveness now, for like so many things, done is done. Regardless of why I made my choice, I was faced with the choice all the same. To let my anger rule me... or not. So I chose. It was with an unsteady, and heavier hand than I would have liked, but he was prepared for proper burial. It was like trying to dance in a vat of molasses. Slowly though, it was done... my mind whirling over all that had come before... my heart worrying over what was yet to come...

"See that it is properly buried on consecrated ground. See that the ground is blessed after burial for good measure. I never want to see his face again."

The temple was still draped in the flour that Sister Abby had used to reveal the hidden thing. She had set to cleaning it... and for once, she and I exchanged a faint smile... Though there were still things she and I could not see eye to eye on, we could at least share the joy of this small moment. The Mercy of it. The most dire of our enemies. The Lord of Murderer's shadow... dead at our feet... and we had a different sort of shadow to thank for it.

For whatever reason... likely none other than their own good and gain... the Thieves Guild of the gate had been aiding us. In days where allies were fleeing, dying or turning on us faster than they could be gained... I didn't really argue the aid... figuring the price could come to bear later. For now, I had an oath to keep. A duty to fulfill. There had been trouble with the choice of course, but I was grateful to the assassin wreathed in shadow that had slain the Bhaalist. The same assassin that had been my own for a time... It was a welcome balance of sorts. An odd sort of comfort knowing that not all eyes watching me from shadows plotted my demise.

Yet another string of choices that in retrospect, were likely wrong... Hindsight, yes... Though I can't say I would have chosen differently... at least not in this. Indeed the only choice I regretted was to choose to overlook just how thin a line I walked. As in so many things, it was reckless, if not required to see things through.

Regardless of my own questions and trepidations... That night, there was a celebration of sorts. That night the shadows receded, and we were granted a bit of respite. It was a much needed rest. A much needed bit of good news. Of course... as was the case, like so many moments in this story... It was brief. The cool trickle over a parched throat amid a burning desert. Grateful though you were for it... you couldn't help but want more. You couldn't help but wish to have passed it... Yet we were drowning in sand. All of us. Still we clung to the distant horizon, our very faith... and kept walking.

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part VII
Saint Merielle

Anger Divided

Billy, for all his endurance over the course of events... was still bearing more than any child should be asked to bear. His mark was gradually becoming more prominent, as was the toll it exacted from him. Despite my very best efforts to keep his own fragile flicker of hope alight... I was watching it dim in his eyes. Still there, though. We clung to that, he and I... as though it was all that might save us. He was tired of being stuck in the temple more often than not. Understandably so. The storm clouds gathered, and one day... they broke.

His words were sharp, his anger was absolutely heart breaking. Coupled with the lack of sleep, and the strain of recent weeks, months... His words fell over me like heavy blows. At the close of his tirade, which perhaps may have done him more good than harm... We decided to risk moving him. The next safest place would be Candlekeep. He would have a bit more freedom there. He was angry with me, and while I understood, it was a sharp blow in the months we had endured. He would comply with my wishes to remain where I could protect him, though he would speak to me very little in the coming tenday. He saw me more as a jailor than a protector.

This grew worse when I told him of Dianne's death. He had wanted to rush off and offer himself. So precious he was, that he would sacrifice himself not only for the sake of his sister, but the Coast... Though if he were allowed to do that, it would damn us all. It was a painful day to explain to him everything that was at stake. To explain to him why Dianne had died. To explain to him why more would die... Why we couldn't give up. Tearfully, reluctantly, I told him everything I should have told him from the beginning. It took several days and a great deal of patience before he finally understood. A mercy immeasurable when he finally hugged me again and told me he loved me...

Candlekeep was reluctant to take us on as guests again. They weighted the trouble we could be and the risk we posed, against the risks of us fleeing further and possibly getting caught by our foes. It was a threat that an Avatar of Bhaal presented... not my own careful negotiations that won us safe harbor. Allies had begun to grow thin. The common people were turning, and any place safe at all was becoming rare. I was grateful for even this reluctant sanctuary... especially given what was to come.

The people were being swayed by dying children, dying loved ones, who were lain at my feet. They said the killing would stop if they had the boy. In my heart I knew it for lies. So many would die if the Lord of Murder gained a footing on Faerun... the losses we had endured so far would be nothing... But it did not stop them from hating me for it. Grieving mothers screamed to me, begged me for the one Mercy they thought I withheld. How could I be Chosen of the Crying Lord, when they buried their children, for all intent and purpose dead at my hand, and my child remained safe. Billy remained safe. Barely.

Emrys and Ian stood by me... A few others... So very few. Things were further complicated by my past catching up with me in its own way, Tessian's father... Many blows that struck hard, very close together. Often it was only Ilmater's gentle whisper that kept me standing. The worst of blows came when the founder of the Ilmatari Shrine in the city, came to see me at Candlekeep.

She and I had not seen eye to eye from the start. I greatly respected Sister Abby, but would not forego my oath to Ilmater. She called me blasphemous to Mercy's own compassion, a fool to follow the god before the ideal. There were many terse exchanges between she and I. At the time, she outranked me. When she told me she suspected my visions false... and of the near riots at the Temple... I was shocked. She was the first of the Ilmatari to turn against me... I was devastated when she bid me not to return to the temple for the safety of the people.

The enemy worked well. They had turned my closest peers against me. In those days, it was a Tiefling wizard, a formerly demon possessed warlock, and a Faithless who stood loyally by me. While the safety of the keep was a boon, it wasn't an impenetrable barrier. One of Bhaal's priests had gone so far as to convince slews of adventurers that he was Billy's grandfather or father, and that he would pay vast sums of gold for him to be returned from the hands of the insane, misguided, fanatic. Fortunately, I was just able to convince enough people that it was a Bhaalist trick. We kept him hidden, but at that point, I knew I'd not be able to let him from my sight, or I would lose him for certain.

Sister Abby and Brother Rente had both gone so far as to suggest I send him away, to those who can protect him, then take my own life to protect the secret... A suggestion that was blasphemous to even consider. Desperately I tried to convince those who now stood against me that they were only aiding Bhaal's goals. In the day I fought and argued the truth of what I knew in my heart. I was sworn to keep him safe. I, and no other. It was suggested we take to the woods, drawing trouble away from the Coast... Emrys had laughed. A child and a healer with little to no experience in the wilds, on the run from hundreds? We wouldn't last a tenday. He had told me we wouldn't be leaving. Few were my allies, but it was just enough.

I reached to the depths of all I was, trying to cling to hope in a losing battle. Ilmater stood ever by us, even through the darkness. I've been asked how I stood alone... In truth, though Bhaal's faithful were doing a good job of angering folks and turning them against us... even if Ian and Emrys had turned... at one time the two of them my only allies... I never stood alone.

When I didn't think I could stand at all, Ilmater's hand was there... Faith held me up, dear friends kept me standing... In my heart, I knew we would endure, that I would not waver. I prayed not to falter and fail... I prayed for the Coast, for Billy... I was later accused of forgetting to pray for myself, but even if I dared not ask Mercy's Grace... it was ever given. If all the world turned its back, Ilmater's hand never left my back.

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part VIII
Saint Merielle

Outnumbered

We had been at Candlekeep for a tenday or so. I thought myself safe enough. The few allies I had at the time, had insisted I remain guarded. I insisted that they waste few resources on me, and guard Billy instead. Looking back on it, it was one of many mistakes. However looking back on it, ad I not made such a mistake... Things might not have worked out as they did in the end... The implication of such a thought was dire.

The inn was mostly empty. It was still several hours before dawn, and quiet. A man I had seen many times, Liaison for the Nashkel Trade Emporium came in. Billy was well guarded, and sound asleep upstairs. Winthrop had gone to tend to some things before going to bed himself. I sat there, reading and writing... doing whatever I could to occupy myself since sleep so seldom found me those days. When it did, my mind conjured nightmares that my soul feared would come to pass.

At first I welcomed the conversation, the exchange of civil pleasantries. By the time I realized I might be in trouble, he stood between me and any exit. He removed his hood and revealed a faced marked by the Zhents. He told me that I would give Billy to the Bhaalists. Here stood before me, my enemy's ally. The admitted high priest of the temple of bane. His voice was sickeningly calm when he made his ultimatum: Deliver the boy or I would deliver the suffering to your feet. Told me I had the power to end it all...

As things often did, it went from bad to worse. Our exchange was interrupted by a wizard. A Thayan no less... a Necromancer even worse. And it got worse as the conversation continued. He was seeking Soulkeep too, was also Bhaalist, and took the opportunity to add his own threats. His attacks on my mind left me with a blinding headache, tell tale blood trickled from my nose and ears as I struggled to focus on what they were saying to each other.

An alliance was struck. The Banite offered more sickening sweet promises of death and decay. Saying it was in my power to stop. Indeed it was, but not by surrendering Billy. Faith and stubborn defiance kept me standing... I truly feared it would come to blows.

"I could take you to the temple for torturing. Perhaps then your tongue would not dance with such courage in your mouth."

For a moment worried he would do as he offered, and drag me off to his temple. While I doubted Bane's servants could do worse than the Drow or any other tormentor I had endured... The prospect of not being able to see to Billy with so many threats from so many sides was terrifying.

A sharp blow to the face sent me reeling into unconsciousness. When I woke, Winthrop was looking over me, very worried. I was a crumpled heap on the floor. I asked after Billy, who thankfully was blissfully unaware of the danger that had lurked so close. Those who had been guarding him took him to the tower there, where he would be safer. I drew myself up and stumbled out of the inn, looking for help... someone to warn. The Banites had been lurking right under our noses, and now I knew that the ranks of Bhaal's allies included Bane of course... but also Thay.

I came across Jonas Rokranon and Maximus Angrius, a few others. At the time, Jonas was, for all intents and purposes against me. Sister Abby and Brother Rente had swayed him, and many others. While they were not allied with the Bhaalists... they saw me as an unbalanced woman, walking a dangerous line between strong faith and uncontrolled fanaticism. I told them there was no way the water could be poisoned. I was also assured Billy would remain safe. I fell back into unconsciousness shortly thereafter. The Banite's words ran through my mind. My own stubborn faith... I prayed it would be enough. Oh, how I prayed.

"Answer me. How can the boy bring more death in Bhaalist hands?"

"They will not have the boy. No good will come of it. No peace, and I am no fool. Bhaal would wash the Coast in blood."

"And you have peace now?!"

"Peace will find me when duty is done."

"I can end your duty now priestess."

"You do not decide the measure of my duty!"

"No but death does."

"Death may find me but not before Duty is done. Death? Mercy will find you in swift death. If not by my hand, then that of another."

"You threaten me with my death?"

"No threats."

"Hmmm good."

"Simply a promise. Mercy will find you. Mercy finds all in one way or another."

"Do not speak of things you have no control of."

"Mercy is in the Hands of Ilmater. I need not control anything, only know fact for what it is."

"Interesting thoughts. Empty words. You had your warning. It is your responsibility now. Have a pleasant rest priestess."

The realization at how close I had come to losing so much, and to failing those in my care, kept my rest from being anything but pleasant. My dreams were haunted by past torments, present worries... and a future that utterly terrified me. Mercy's eyes had remained on me that night. It had been my only saving grace. After that, I no longer argued guards. I realized I couldn't keep my oaths if I wasn't kept safe and whole.

Little did I know, the Thayan had not wasted his moment on just the Soulkeep as I had thought. I wouldn't fully realize the shadows closing in on my path until later.

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part IX
Saint Merielle

Turning Points

To this day, I don't know what exactly the Thayan had done that night, though I have a feeling whatever it was, and the hand of the Lord of Murder himself, are what swept me from the safety of Candlekeep to the bowels of the Bhaalist temple. Billy had to be willingly surrendered. I did not. One minute I was safe at Candlekeep, having just finished some toast and tea, chatting with Ian and a couple others. The next minute I was being bound to a rough wooden post.

I was blinded, some sort of magic... though there was little light to find me in the place I found myself. My time in the Underdark had ruined my eyes. My hearing had never been very good, damaged as long as I could remember, made worse by the years that came after. However, my sense of smell and taste and touch were painfully acute this day. I didn't need my eyes, or very sharp ears to get a feel for the place I was in.

It was damp, smelling of sickly decay. The air tasted of blood. Screams of agony assaulted my ears, echoing off of stone walls and floors. These were a back drop to the chants of at least a dozen offering homage to Bhaal. My next sensation was of acid-laden robes being lain over me. They fit tightly and clung to my skin. The acid made it's way through my own robes, finding its way to my sensitive skin. I stilled. My every movement only drew more acid to my flesh.

My vision began to clear finally. Figures loomed, dark and imposing in the meager light of the room. Two large creatures acted as guards, and looked to be something from the lower planes, though what they were or from where, I couldn't exactly say. The Thayan necromancer was there. As was the one I knew as Bhaal's high priest.

I prayed. Prayed as I tried to loosen the ropes that bound me. I'd be lying to say I wasn't terrified. I feared a great deal at that moment. I prayed as I argued. I rooted myself to my faith, the pain becoming secondary. Their promises to end my suffering if I would simply surrender Billy got them nowhere...

I can't remember what I said to the wizard, but it earned me a sharp slap that left me dizzy. It was a slow agonizing process as they sought to wear me down. I wish I could say they failed. That my will was strong enough to withstand it. As they showed me images of those they had killed in Bhaal's name... those who they laid at my feet. Those they blamed my stubborn pride for. The children... Even Dianne...

I whispered prayers. I wept. I shut my eyes against the images they conjured, but my mind readily supplied the missing details. In truth, I -was- partly to blame for each death. I could have surrendered. I could have allowed them to take more lives and cause more suffering than they had so far by tenfold. I could have washed my hands of it. Loyal friends had turned distrustful enemies. My own temple and home had cast me out. Children had died, one of which was dear to me as my own. I could have failed. I could have turned my back on the oath I had made at the feet of my god as so many had asked me to.

Instead I prayed. I bled. I wept. I stood. I suffered. Never did I stop praying. Never had they gone unanswered. I knew in my heart, though, the world had turned against me... My god had not... and so long as that remained true, I knew my feet walked the right path. My faith was my strength, and in that moment... My salvation.

Gentle whispers broke through the screams. My strength faded and I slumped against the post. Yet something held me up, and it wasn't the ropes that held me in place. My skin was raw, blood now colored the robes, the pain that was now almost unbearable began to fade. When the darkness began to recede from my peripheral view, replaced by a soft white light... I thought myself dying. I whispered, a shudder working through me.

Mercy of Ilmater, forgive me.

My foes, who stood around me like rabid dogs eyeing a meal, took this to heart. Pushed harder, cruel words and painful blows for hours. It went on for what seemed an eternity. Each time I thought unconsciousness or death would claim me, a soothing and gentle hand drew me up from the darkness. He would not let me fall away. I was exhausted. The worst of it no longer touched me. Every time I felt myself fading, a whisper found me.

I'm here... Remain strong, my child.

Ilmater wept with me, he bore the worst of my pains, soothed body, mind and spirit as my tormentors needled away at my resolve. Every moment they gained ground, He pushed them back. At some point, a small group burst into the temple sanctum. They had thought to rescue me, but they were too few.

I couldn't say how, save that it was the Hand of Mercy... but they left unharmed. I offered a grateful prayer that I hadn't cost more lives. The Bhaalists hurried to re-secure the temple. Then the wizard and the high priest returned their attention to me. Those few, loyal ones who had come, willing to die for my sake... both bolstered my courage and broke my heart. Who was I to ask such a sacrifice? I didn't think I would ever see any of them again. My prayer was that Ilmater would help them keep Billy safe as he had me...

The hours inched along as we shot retorts and threats back and forth. The high priest spoke, though I didn't hear his words. He raised a boned hand, glowing with foul energy, drawing it across my face in an agonizing arc. This broke through the comfort that surrounded me. I cried out in pain. It was a new found resolve that gave me a second wind, a glimmer of hope. I heard the sounds of battle. As I focused again, they were speaking of moving me.

They did, though I don't know how. For some time it was merely the wizard and the two hellish looking sentinels. I am not even sure where we were, it was dark and silent as a tomb. A throne on the raised platform that we stood on, the wizard seated there in haughty arrogance. Anger fueled me then... Anger may be destructive, but these days I will admit that it does serve a purpose when properly focused.

The next thing I knew, I was unbound and amid a crowd of familiar faces... mostly familiar faces. The majority of the Bhaalists lay dead... I didn't see the body of the high priest or the wizard... not that there was much time to look. I was being whisked away at a quick pace. I could barely focus. Couldn't think. It took some time for me to register that they were speaking of a man's sacrifice. A sacrifice that Ilmater had rewarded later, returning the man to the living. A sacrifice I was grateful for.

Seeing what the enemy was willing to do, seeing the horror they had planned, but kept hidden from most... Swayed many. Seeing my resolve convinced many that I was set in my path. It was a turning point of sorts, as it was after this our allies began to increase. Not all were convinced, of course. I was still cursed by grieving mothers... Still spat upon by ones like Brother Rente... still distrusted by Sister Abby... but slowly things began to turn.

The evening was spent arguing with ones such as Brother Rente, still convinced I was a blasphemous girl who heard voices. By the time I was left alone, I was exhausted. Billy was safe though, and that was a great comfort to me. Emrys and Ian had acted in my stead, kept Billy safe, and spoke on my behalf. It was these two who rallied my rescue, and these two who had stood by me longer than any other. I counted my blessings that though I may have weaknesses, there were allies willing to strengthen those. Allies willing to keep me standing when I could not keep myself upright.

That night, as I recovered... I would be visited by another servant of Ilmater. An angel. The first angel I would behold, but not the last. His presence was soothing, as Ilmater's but to a lesser extent. He was a beautiful creature. His voice was kind and comforting.

"Hello dear Sister Merielle. It has been a long day for you."

"A survivable one."

My words were hesitant... I am certain it didn't sound very convincing. I had survived only because Ilmater had held me up.

"Fear not, child for His Mercy will not see you Death's martyr. The child will never feel the pain you have endured. His soul -will- be free of all evil if you can stay the course."

"I will not waver."

For Billy's sake, if nothing else. If my resolve could spare him suffering... I would stand and face the Hells and more. For the sake of the friends who held me dear, the allies who stood at my side... for the grieving mothers, for those who cursed me... Bhaal would not have Billy. My oath would stand. My faith would endure. Another promise made to Ilmater, though only an unspoken extension of the oath that had come before. I could not let all that those have done for me be for naught.

"As is why you were -Chosen-."

"A title I hope yet to earn."

I feel undeserved of it, even now. Still, I was not looked to as a simple healer anymore. I was called to serve. Willing Servant, I would do as faith and heart bid, though it meant bearing such undeserved reverence. I prayed then as I have every day since that they do not see me, but the faith I represent. I pray they understand... that they remember those who kept me standing, and what we stood for...

"Your Faith is your Strength, and Mercy ever your guide. Do not be tempted by the wills of men. Ilmater sends me with his Blessings. You have shown yourself deserving of being Favored. While others doubt you must be strong."

"I will not let doubt sway me. Though I fear doubt will poison and destroy those who give it sway. I do not wish to stand opposite my fellows in any fashion further..."

He gave me a reassuring smile. In his eyes he simply stated that I would not stand opposite them for long. I took great comfort in that. He spoke once more before he departed, his words lending me strength, and granting me some renewal of spirit, which in turn renewed the body and mind. I felt whole.

"Mercy be yours Sister..."

Mercy. Mercy finds all in the end. In the -end- there is -only- Mercy. It would touch the hearts across the Coast in ways that I could never imagine. From a single ember of hope... A fire would burn... Righteous Fury... and it would leave naught but ash of those who would cause harm and suffering.

Mercy would indeed be mine, but in all things... we do not walk difficult roads unchanged. We do not walk through troubles unscathed. I bore a new scar... a constant and painful reminder of the price paid. A permanent reminder of the price yet to be paid.

Murder Rended... Mercy Mended... Part X
Saint Merielle

Gathering Together

An Excerpt from Merielle's Journal
Finally I sit here, quill in hand. So many words. So much said, more left unsaid. Exchanges of words that make or break alliances. More often than not I find myself sifting through the words of others, seeking some hidden meaning. Some clue missed in simple conversation? A threat? A promise? A warning? Who can say. Who can say by the end of the conversation that all need hearing is heard, all needs saying is said? Sometimes it is madness to try keep up with it all.

So many speakers, so few listeners... well I can't say that. Everywhere they listen from the shadows. I almost laugh when someone asks to speak in private. If ever I had a truly quiet moment... A moment I was truly safe... I wouldn't know what to do with it. All the better for it I suppose. If I ever had a moment where I were truly safe, and it were truly quiet... I would likely be standing on Mount Martyrdom with no other than the hosts of the House of the Triad to keep me company. For now I shall have to content in that duty will come to close completed, oaths fulfilled, Mercy at the end of all things... I will know peace.

--

I had resigned myself to endless fighting... and feared it would be alone. I was surprised when Sister Abby came to visit Candlekeep... and called me Sister. We talked a great long while, she and I... Her prayers having been answered and her doubts now set aside, we had begun to mend the rift that was between us. The rift that had separated me from the temple, my fellows, and the city I so dearly loved... began to mend. It was the first of many boons at that time.

Sister Abby was able to aid in mending the rift between the rigid and spirited Brother Rente too. Odd to think now, that in time... He would become one of the loudest voices to speak of my virtues and. Odd only in that, at the time... our every exchange had been tense, bitter, unrelenting and we had stood on opposite sides with little more than devout faith and anger between us. Indeed, once Sister Abby spoke to him, I found I had a great deal more allies than I had ever thought. It was a start, and I was glad for it.

Perhaps the most important of new alliances would be with one Tormite... Now Sir Jonas Rokranon. It would not come about so easily. Aside from the words of Sister Abby and others on the outset, he was gripped by a terrible madness... The result of aiding one against Shar... It had left him wounded, cursed and tormented... it would not be until Auriel, a priestess of Sehanine Moonbow, and now one of my dearest friends, myself and several others fought the darkness in the devout paladin... That his eyes would see me as anything more than a fanatic. From these new allies, many more would begin to follow... a trickle at first, like cool water on a parched throat...

An Excerpt from Merielle's Journal
The days have been silent. The nights have been silent. Sleep comes less easy in this calm before the storm, than when the 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 on 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.

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 sand, 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.
--

My faith had always been my greatest boon, and it was that faith which other looked to in the days before the siege. Preparations began to take place. People were looking to me for direction. I found myself relying on prayers and the wisdoms of those seasoned in battles and tactics. The call went out to all those in the service of good and light. Maximus Angrius made his way as far north as Neverwinter for allies. Jonas spoke with the Dukes of Baldur's Gate, garnering their aid as well. Finally, the requests for aid that I had sent out so long ago began to be answered. We were not the only ones to send forth calls to aid... For rumor was the angels were appearing in Triadic sanctums all across Faerun.
--

Rumors of the Sword Coast

Over the course of the last few days strange reports come in of "beams of light" coming from the heavens and bathing churches of Ilmater in a warm glow, for but a brief moment.

Whispers find their way into the cities across Toril that angelic messengers visited these holy sites, said a few words and left as quickly as they came. "Prepare children. Follow the one who protects you all from the Foul One's will. The boy's soul must be saved."

Those in the far reaches of the map mumble at the cryptic message. Those closer to the coast have heard a tale or two that "nods" to the true meaning of the message.

Reports filter through of Paladin's from the far reaches of Faerun making pilgrimages to the coast to pledge their swords to the "Beacon of Mercy."
--

Indeed they gathered... willing to pledge life and sword to me... which I found astonishing, impossible... and myself undeserving. I thanked them for their willingness to stand against the darkness. Explained to them that one simple healer was hardly worth such an oath... I asked them instead to promise to fight against Bhaal, to protect Billy... He was what was truly important.

These who came together though... Stood before me, pledging to fight my battle. Fight for my cause... And in truth... it was not mine... but ours. To all of the Coast, to all of Faerun, and possibly all of Toril. We knew one thing was certain... Regardless of what I thought, they were here, to fight at my side as Ilmater's divine servants had bid. We would not be the only to gather though, for as we prepare for war, so too did the enemy.
--

Rumors of the Sword Coast
Far away from the eyes of man... Across the planes to Khalas, the first layer of Gehenna, the minions of The Lord of Murder gather for the upcoming thrust upon the soil of Toril. Twisted souls of malevolent evil stand before the Throne of Bhaal and pledge themselves to the cause.

A voice booms across the plane. "Come my minions! Together we shall crush the weak and pitiful, and spread my seed across Toril!"

As the voice carries itself across the plane, those that hear it, fall to their knees. Some by choice... others in fear of what will happen if they do not.
--

We began to make ready, gathering supplies by the wagon full. Bandages, medicines and the like. The Nashkel Trade Emporium pledged whatever weapons and armor it could muster. The Dukes granted Jonas a contingent of Fist Mercenaries. The Dukes also had a siege camp set up near the temple. My time would be divided between this new encampment and Candlekeep. Exhausting days, and despite my loathing for horseback riding... I would grow quite used to it in those days.

Sister Abby and Brother Rente would ready a field hospital. Mercenaries too, came to the promise of fame and fortune, glory and gold... It seemed a bit much to take down one temple... But this temple was a fortress, and our enemies numbers were great. There would be many battles even before the start of the siege to tear down that foul place... Many would die in those early days... Willing sacrifices, though we saved who we could... This was only a foreshadowing of things to come.
--

Rumors of the Sword Coast

From the corners of Toril, heroes have taken up sword and shield against abominations that appear to be arriving through portals from another plane. The common link between all of the attacks is the symbol of Bhaal that is burned upon their chests. The faithful of the Triad have come together against a common foe...
--

An Excerpt from Merielle's Journal
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.
--

At least, this was my hope and prayer. This was my promise. He would be free of Bhaal. Even if I had to tear the temple down brick by brick with my own two hands.

Baldur's Gate Gazette - Volume IV, Issue 3
by Elycia Innovius

An issue of the Baldur's Gate Gazette, dated Uktar 13, 1347. The words, 'Publisher and Editor: Elycia Innovius' is written on the bottom of each page.

The front page article sits in the center of the page. Next to it, a depiction of the Chiontar Bridge with flames exploding from it, with many people pointing to the bridge. In small font, the words 'Elycia Innovius' appear next to this article

Chiontar Bridge Destroyed: Tensions Rise

A most horrible catastrophe of two exploding caravan wagons has left the Chionatar Bridge destroyed, and many residents of Baldur's Gate and other areas most troubled. The Chiontar Bridge connected the Farmlands of Baldur's Gate to the Trade Road farther south, spanning over the River Chiontar. The incident occurred when the Adventurer's Guild, seeming to be led by a rather simple orc-kin, was escorting a caravan carrying the emissary from Amn to Baldur's Gate. The escort included two members of the Thayan Enclave, although the Enclave stated that they were only acting in minimal capacity as part of the Adventurer's Guild, and they renounced their membership upon the explosion occurring. Upon the caravans reaching the Chiontar Bridge, the Flaming Fist Guardsman checked up on the emissary and signed a scroll before taking over the escort, the wizard caravan master turning back down the trade way. Not a breath later, a large explosion ripped out as a fireball was launched toward the caravans, pieces of the bridge flying in different directions. Some witnesses mention seeing oil leaking from the back of one of the caravan wagons, which was most likely ignited with the fireball and caused the explosion. A few Fist Officers were killed by the explosion, their bodies buried. Flaming Fist Officers quickly set up a temporary ferry across the river, and Grand Duke Eltan soon arrived to survey the damage. The Duke seemed furious that the Adventurer's Guild did not bother to inspect the caravans that they were escorting. The Duke then ordered Captain Norton of the Flaming Fist to head south with the first and second battalion, along with catapults. The bridge remains impassable for the time being, although a temporary ferry is available. Several groups are continuing to investigate the incident.

On the next page, an image of a fierce-looking Pit Fiend with an old man casting a spell at it. The caption below the image reads, 'Guide of Candlekeep, Wendel Ashby, and a Pit Fiend.' There is an article written next to the image; in small font under the headline, is written 'Elycia Innovius'.

Pit Fiends Attack Near Candlekeep

Candlekeep, the grand keep of scholars and loremasters, was recently put on high alert because of an attack of Pit Fiends on the Way of the Lion, the road that leads to Candlekeep. The Pit fiends appeared and attacked those that were on their way to the keep, including the Guide of Candlekeep, Wendel Ashby. The Guide and others managed to fell one of the Pit Fiends, only for another to appear, and then another. In total, three Pit Fiends attacked on that evening; one large, and two smaller. After the three attacks, those along the Way of the Lion hurried on to take refuge within the walls of Candlekeep. There were no further attacks by Pit Fiends or other foul creatures once the party reached the keep. The scholars of Candlekeep immediately began investigating the reasoning for the attacks, and have suspected a certain "Wytch of the Caves" of summoning such creatures. No further attacks of such kind have been reported.

Another article is placed on the right-hand side of the page. It appears to be written by a 'Madam Fora Minnxilli.

Flaming Fist Galleon Sank

Word erupts through every store, inn, and home in Baldur's Gate. A vessel, under cover of nightfall, waylaid a fleet of Merchant ships under banner of the Merchant League's own Irlentree. In an act of heroism, a Flaming Fist Galleon sailed forth at an intercept trajectory. Though this action is both deplorable and heinous, Merchant Irlentree remains confident in the ability of the Flaming Fist Navy. The Fist themselves, when pressed for comment, can be heard to say Don't worry, citizens. We'll get things handled. Which is assurance enough for this reporter that their morale is not easily shaken. As for how it will be handled? We are left to speculate. Though historically keepers of the peace, Baldur's Gate seems inspired and quick to protect her harbors. Only the future knows what lays in wait for the Sword Coast, as message runners leave a fevered wake between their destinations and the Ducal Palace. Funerary services were held on the twelfth of Marpenoth at the Baldur's Gate Graveyard, followed by a somber reception. The Ducal Palace is accepting donations, to ease suffering of their families.

On page three, two articles are written. There is a longer article to the left of the page, with a larger headline.

Dwarven Clanhold Falls

Tragedy has struck the Ironfaar clan as their clanhold was attacked by duergar and was destroyed. Inside the clanhold, an army of duergar came in from the Underdark, and began a massive assault of the clanhold from all sides. The entrance to the clanhold was barred strong and many adventurers and others listened aghast as they heard the battle inside, helpless to assist the dwarves. Many dwarven warriors fought valiantly against the seeming endless attack of the numerous duergar, yet they continued to be pushed back farther as the duergar gained ground, causing damage and destruction all around. Finally a small core of dwarven warriors and loremasters alike were surrounded by the duergar army, and the dwarven Chief Korgoth was struck down and slain. The duergar continued their relentless assault as dwarven women and children fled the clanhold and the hold began to crumble and collapse. The duergar were halted as the remainder of the clanhold was completely collapsed. The some two-hundred survivors, a great deal of women, children, and elderly dwarves have taken refuge in the elven city of Doron Amar. The elves of Doron Amar continue to provide refuge and aid. The remains of the clanhold remains largely destroyed and inaccessible.

On the righthand side of the page, an article is placed, accompanied by an image. The drawing appears to be of giant rabbits attacking a village. The caption below the image reads 'Artist illustration of the attack'. The type below the headline reads, 'Elycia Innovius'.

Undead Rabbits Attack Gullykin

The fine halfling village of Gullykin was subject to a terrible attack most recently. It seems that giant, undead rabbits had been summoned by an unknown person or persons, and caused many a death of the halfling townsfolk before adventurers arrived to slay the rabbits. The casualties of the halflings were many; said a weeping Ralston Dash, They've killed everyone! Dash, a witness to the attack, further commented that while the undead rabbits appeared to come from nowhere, he saw "men in red robes" come and summon them up. Despite the reported robe coloration of the summoners of the rabbits, the Thayan Enclave is not suspected in this tragic attack; rather, it is thought to be the work of frenzied Cultists. Fortunately, a party of adventurers arrived and quelled the attack, slaying all rabbits involved. Several Ilmatari also traveled with the adventurers and were successful in raising the halflings felled in the attack and heling the injured. A council member of the halfling village rewarded the adventurers for their aid, giving each a gem. No further word on attacks or suspected Cultists has been reported.

Page four seems to be printed on a slightly different stock of paper. In the center of the page, a Flaming Fist Champion is drawn. The caption below the image reads, 'A Flaming Fist Champion; a true hero.' There is an article written to the left of the image.

OPINION: Flaming Fist Prepares for War to Protect Citizens

Many denizens of the Sword Coast area have seen the Flaming Fist gathering as of late and making preparations for War. The Flaming Fist, the largest and finest mercenary company in all of Ferun, is led by the Grand Duke Eltan. This honorable organization is sworn to protect the city of Baldur's Gate, and is doing so now without question. Such brave and selfless men aim to protect citizens of the Sword Coast and their families against looming threats, and perform their duties with respect and honor. Within the city, patrolling the farmlands, or up and down the Trade Way, the Fist Officers continue to keep all the citizens safe with the level of dignity and scrupulousness that only a Flaming Fist could provide. Some citizens of Baldur's Gate are anxious over the increasing political tension in the area. With a large, strong Flaming Fist force, however, citizens shall most certainly be safe and protected against any threats. Captain Norton mentions that the Flaming Fist is hiring mercenaries right now for their most respectable company and those that are interested should inquire in Baldur's Gate.

Another piece is placed on to the right of the page, in song or poem format.

Ode to the Fists

The Flaming Fists, they are really great,
They protect the city of Baldur's Gate!
The honorable men, emblem on their chest,
Of the fist on fire, they are truly the best!
Whenever I see a Fist Officer near,

I am ever so pleased; I have nothing to fear!
Whether battlecasters below, or bowmen above
They are proud to protect the city they love!
That Fist Captain Norton, a fantastic man,

Protecting the city with all he can!
Ensuring our safety, all night and all day,
Does whatever he must, whatever the way!
Sometimes War happens, with plenty good reason,

And that the Fist are there is ever most pleasin'!
Look at them now, training up in the camp,
See the shining armor of the Flaming Fist Champs!

One day I hope that I will marry a Fist,
So every day, one so fine, I will hug and kiss!
The only way the'd be better, the Fist I adore
Is if many joined now, and there'd be more!

On the next page, a portrait of a man in armor, with yellow cloak and circlet, is drawn. The caption below the portrait reads, 'Dean Sonlite, Morninglord of Lathander'. An article is written next to the image. In small text under the headline, 'Elycia Innovius' is written.

Opinion: Spot-Light On Dean Sonlite

Dean Sonlite, son of John and Mary Sonlite, is a Morninglord of Lathander and ex-Commander of the Wardens of Beregost. Dean had established himself in the city of Beregost, and with the Governor's approval he created the Wardens, a numerous and dedicated force. While Dean has endured many hardships during his time on the Coast, he continues on his journey, spreading a message of peace and kindness. He has been recently been troubled by the political tensions felt by the region and seeks to prevent further bloodshed, even at possible cost of himself. Dean states, Whatever happens, all I want is to give peace a few more days, he also remarks on the subject of peace, Search not the conflict, search new solutions to solve it peacefully. Wake up each morning as a new person, a better one. Dean also teaches those of the Sword Coast of the power of kindness, It can be the most powerful tool there is. When sometimes its only to brighten someone else's day by a simple touch on the shoulder. Or to give away some of your wealth to help people. Dean's commitment to the defense and service to Beregost and to the Sword Coast overall has no doubt been recognized and admired.

Another article is written to the right-hand side of the page.

White Mask Theater Brightens Baldur's Gate

Standing proudly in the Palace District of Baldur's Gate, the White Mask Theater, with Director Mia Desdemona, and Patron Anden Tremelaine, recently hosted fine evenings of entertainment. The goddess Selune was honored some tendays ago, in a spectacular Open Stage evening hosted by Assistant Director Valqis Sanejmeh. The theater was dimly lit aside from the stage lights, arranged to give the effect of Selune's glow. many of the area's finest performers came to perform pieces related to the Moonmaiden. The Harlequin and her elven husband Aearion performed fabulous pieces that entertained the large audience. This Open Stage Night was held after a short reprieve in events hosted by the White Mask. Given the strong turnout afforded to the White Mask shows, it is clear that Baldur's Gate denizens greatly enjoy the entertaining evenings.

In a small box below the righthand article, a few lines of text are written.

CORRECTION

In the Marpenoth issue of the Baldur's Gate Gazette, it was erroneously reported that the individual named "Jo"dan" was a member of the Thayan Enclave. This is incorrect and we apologize for any confusion caused.

A variety of articles are written on the sixth page. A small article is written in the upper lefthand corner. Small text below the readline reads, 'Valqis Sanejmeh, Reader of Candlekeep'.

Our Nite Sky

I rite this on Uktar 3, 1347. It is 318 days since the last Winter Solstice (longest time of nite). We are now in the month of The Rotting. The nite period is 14 hours and lite period is 10 hours each day. The moon Selune was half round yesterday on Uktar 2. Selune will be full round on Uktar 10. Selune will hide in the Sun's brite lite beginning Uktar 25 for 3 days. The Feast of the Moon celebration is on Uktar 30 nite. It is time to honor and celebrate the lives of our now dead friends and family.

Below the short article, is a box with what appears to be an advertisement inside. The advertisement features a small drawing of a shining diamond.

The Nashkep Trade Emporium
(Bringing you the finest in mercantile endeavors since 1344)

With a sterling record of both profits and service, the N.T.E. has never taken a contract it couldn't complete, or left a customer unsatisfied!

Not content with simply pleasing our petitioners, we've also reached into the social sector! Sending aid to the Ironfaar Dwarves to ease the suffering of their families, as well as offering residence to misplaced children!

Currently seeking merchants, Wagon-Masters, Caravan Guards, Laborers, and Ferriers! Come, make a difference for the world and yourself!

-Paid by order of Maximillian Mandorf

The article to the right-hand side of the page features an image of a light-colored dragon, with fog surrounding it. Under the image is a caption, 'Artist depiction of a mist dragon'. The article appears to be written by 'Kadri Saar'.

Mist Dragons

Mist Dragons, as their name suggests, regularly release layers of mist which they shroud themselves in... and have even been said to transform their entire bodies into watery gas. Naturally, warm, moist environments, such as swamps and rainforests, where water is plentiful, seemed like a natural habitat of choice. Mist Dragons have long, serpentine bodies almost resembling snakes. Limbs stretch out from the body near the rear and head and are small in comparison to the size of its body. The head has a "triangular" shape, being broad near the neck and narrowing into a snout. The upper lip has a pair of long barbells which hang from it. Its expression is one of constant, deep contemplation, due to its super-heavy brows. The scent of rain almost always accompanies its presence, which is compounded threefold whenever it releases blankets of mist from its body.

Mist Dragons are solitary by nature and tend to dislike interactions with other creatures. Though disliking conversation, Mist Dragons are impeccable philosophers. They are said to spend hours upon hours in silent isolation, brooding over various ethical and metaphysical philosophy. Similar to how a Red Dragon greedily hordes gold and other physical riches, Mist Dragons have a similar compulsive behavior towards philosophical knowledge. Perhaps further study and possible interview, would shed more light into the Mist Dragon's exact history and culture and how it is related to the rest of the dragon-kin, and possibly, even drakes.

-X-