Never Again Forget - Saint Merielle Silene

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FIRST ENTRY]

Its been a calming time, mostly. We had a lovely picnic, and I spent time painting on the beach. We made our way back to the cottage only to find that a rather unpleasant dwarven fellow had places all our things outside. Said the old abandoned farm house was his… we knew better, but for the sake of argument we simply made our way to Candlekeep. Tessian of course grumbled, but I was too happy to care. Did it truly matter where we were?

I learned that the trouble Joan had had, was some sort of enchantment. It had happened at the temple the day after the wedding. In my room. It was odd. There is speculation aplenty… but we’ve not enough details. She is better, thanks to Rith, but she is still confused. I also learned that the wizard of the Sundries, has gone missing… and that there were Drow raids. These two facts worry me greatly. I shall have to be watchful.

Had an interesting chat about those angel statues… What was the scholar’s name? Archibald? I should have written it down. He seemed a nice enough. He also seems to think someone is hiding knowledge about the statue or statues as the case may be. I did as was suggested… and warned him of the dangers of them. He shared a cup or two of tea, thanked me and went on his way. Probably a good thing. My head started to hurt again halfway through our conversation.

It was day for many conversations. Tessian did a fair bit of errand running while we were at the Keep. I painted a great deal. I also spoke with my dear silent watchmen. That darling Father figure who some moment I want to throttle. Darn stubborn old fool. His feigned emotionless state never ceases to irritate me. Half the time our conversations are pleasant, and we exchange veiled words. And for the course of several conversations it was very nice. Today though… it devolved to name calling, and harsher words. It lead eventually, to me lost… in the middle of the night. It got to the point we were throwing more than barbed words… but… at least we did not leave on bad terms. A slight hug and he shoos me off to rest.

I did rest for a bit, but sleep never lasts long, even when pleasant. I may never cease to wonder at the marvel of waking with him at my side. The comfort of facing my dreams with him close at hand… I was told to enjoy my joy… because my luck runs in cycles. Come what may, I’ll be ready for it… Comfort is a half a whisper away for the rest of my days… and I couldn’t be happier.
~~

Well… perhaps the cycle is on its down side. The old man can say I told you so I guess. I went to speak with Siomir about a few things, which went well. Rith even got my hair untangled. There was some pleasant conversation to start and then I heard a voice to one I did not see… there were few times he hides. And few reasons… and none of them were good.

So the bad news in short: We are out of time. Baenund hunts… on the surface. Our eyes and ears are gone… according to Firavain… Din is dead. They all are. After an extensive conversation… a bit of a panic, which almost resulted in me leaving as quickly as possible… it has been decided that we will take an offensive stance. As Firavain has said… we will use the only thing we have left… and beat them to the punch. Siomir. Joan. Rith. Firavain. Kliron. If Tessian wishes to go, he may. I fear for him. But the choice is his… if it were me in his place… I would want the choice. What if it isn’t safe?

We will travel the twisted paths of the rune-scape with the intention to do something I have avoided for… nearly a decade. We are out of time… Running isn’t solving anything anymore. I thought I could keep it hidden indefinitely… but I know better now. As needs must. And right now I need to keep it safe. I can’t guarantee its safety where it is. If it is going to open… it may as well be on my terms. Some doors were not meant to be opened… but No door stays shut forever.
~~

//a short paraphrase to keep the masses happy.//

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SECOND ENTRY]

The days pass as gently as they can. The calm and solace I have found is slowly being inched upon by whispers of Drow. Still, they have been pleasant. Tessian. He has become the balance between the woman and the saint. The connecting line between duty and living. He makes the worst of things easier to bear, and the best of things beyond imagining. Never does a moment pass when I do not thank all the Heavens for this most precious mercy. Never had I dared to think of such happiness… to think it could ever have been my own to hold. Yet, how often did I find that same precious thing holding me so.

That we have come so far and fought so hard, only makes it that much more precious… that it could be lost so easily… makes me treasure it so much more. At first I was fearful. Afraid of the change… of the sheer vulnerability. Never had I been so open, so exposed and unguarded in so very many ways… and I was terrified. Was it unfair of me to love him so, knowing well what it could cost us both? He insists the unfairness would have been to both of us had I turned away from this. I think my heart loved him before I realized it… and now… it loves unconditionally and no longer holds such things at bay.

Not since his father. Bastard that he was… sick and twisted. The things he did. How they haunt my beloved so. Of all the low and horrible people I have ever known… His father personified all of them. There are moments that the darkness he was haunts -my- dreams. For he was hunter, I was pray, and his own son the bait… my time with him was brief. Daggered words and terse meeting that started it all in the temple… the trip to Amn… and it haunts me. I could almost thank the demon of a man. Almost. For by his actions… I was granted the man I love more than any. By his actions I understood that I did indeed love Tessian. I chased him to Amn because of that pompous personification of everything that is wrong with power-hungry magi.

I hadn’t intended to kill his father, but the man left me no choice. I don’t regret it. Even his death was a kindness, for he fell quickly, and in doing so… he could harm no other. As the house burned, the whole legacy that was Ronwin Silene gone, save the love I held for Tessian, Tessian himself, and the now treasured portrait of his mother. I could almost thank him for all the steps that lead to me stepping from that fourth story window… and into a pair of arms that would find me forever content to be there… Almost…

Because that same man, responsible in some moot way for all the happiness I now hold… is responsible for most, if not all the pain Tessian has ever known. The man haunts his son, even in death… the painful memories. He can’t speak of his blessed mother without speaking of some pain that man inflicted on her or the children. How I admire and thank his mother, for it was her that granted me the near-whole of this most precious gift I have in her son. This sorceress I know so little of, and would love to meet in this life or any life thereafter… It is her hand that shaped Tessian from the cruelty of his father. Yes his father was a bastard, and my time spent with him haunts me… Tessian more so. My moment with Ron-whine was brief and fleeting by comparison. That Tessian could endure such for so long… That alone speaks volumes of the strength he claims he does not possess.

He fears the trials we may yet face… if I am to be truthful… I fear them too, to a point. What wouldn’t I do to spare him harm? I fear the answer. No… not the answer. Not even the question. I fear who may ask me that question… and what answer they will expect in return. Tessian is right though. No longer do we stand separate… but Together. Blessing or Bane, we will stand… Together. Mercy willing the rest of our days. As I worry for what may yet come, and I watch the storm rage on the horizon… watch it build and approach with frightening speed… I have found safety. As we hold to each other, shield and love each other, we will endure… we will stand… The storm will break, the shadows will fall over our path… but the storm will not last, the shadows will pass, and we will stand. Together.
~~

I received a message from Jonas today. This dinner, he is allowed to bring a guest and he has asked me to go. It sounds like some dry formal thing really. Sir Crownsilver wishes to honor returning troops. It should be a grand thing perhaps. At least Jonas will be there, and of course Sir Crownsilver… so I imagine it won’t be too terrible. First things first, Tessian wishes a nice little picnic. He is such a dear romantic. I will make my way to the city soon. For now, something considerably less formal and slightly more personal.
~~

Gods I hadn’t felt so miserably trapped in a long time! It started well enough. There were many there who I considered friends. Well… come to think of it… all but one or two of the guards I didn’t know that well, the serving staff and of course the Duke himself, I consider friends. When did I become so well to do? Odd how things work out sometimes… and frighteningly surprising. Once again it leaves me wondering and marveling at the paths my own has crossed… my humble, dirt-laden path that skitters across ones such as these, and dare I say, walk along side them? Siomir and Rith, Joan, Valerius, Jonas, Justin… Valqis, Dajala, Ivaris and several guards… paths paved in fine stone at worst… in the case of the Duke… gold even… and my own path placed me there at that table for what seemed an amiable dinner. Dirt blown across fine roads…

How composed I appeared outwardly would have passed for any there, and none would have had any inkling to how nervously out of place I felt sitting with so many of stature, friend or not, at the table with the Duke himself. I had served the likes of such, but to dine with them? Nearly well across from him in fact, as he chose not to sit at the head of the table, as I expected… but among us. The head of the table left vacant. An odd gesture… and the significance or meaning of it was lost to me. Still, Jonas noticed, and good naturedly told me to relax. Conversations came and went, pleasantries passed as we seated.

When Valerius arrived, we were all surprised as the Duke stood to address the wizard. Valerius stood formally of course and in humble respect. Fingers bound in a show of peace. We watched, and were pleasantly surprised by the Duke’s words:

‘Allow me to get our first piece of business out of the way. I, Duke Eltan of Baldur's Gate, do hereby pardon you for all past trespasses upon our city. Ambassador Valerius, so good of you to come, please have a seat.’

‘Thank you for your clemency, Your Grace. I hope that I will not disappoint you. I will be happy to accept a seat at your table.’

Everyone was seated, wine was poured. The mood was grandly pleasant. I was feeling less like a misplaced pauper at a table with giants, and more like a woman among friends. Thoughts and conversation rippled to and fro without much purpose or requirement. The Duke tapped his glass gently. The clinking of the fine flatware on the crystal goblet, an almost unnervingly familiar tinkle. Our attentions called, he made a toast. A simple thing really, but well meaning and full of hope.

‘This toast is one I think we can all understand, to new beginnings.’

He sipped his wine and we all followed suit. Raised glasses to lips, smiling. In half a breath, the whole mood of the table changed. His Grace regarded us all somberly, with a serious air. The trap I spoke of? May not have been literal… but by the time I realized the thing had sprung… there was no escaping.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, you have been invited here as Sir Justin's guests, but it is because -I- wanted to talk to you all. This are not the most civilized of times. There have been... a great many times in the past when I am sure we have all made mistakes. But Ladies and Gentlemen, I am here tonight to tell you that whatever happens next, we will set the example. I am sure you've all heard the rumors about Drow and such like.’

I felt myself go still… my mind, my spirit. I could see what lay ahead, and could only sit as a trapped and frightened creature… and pray.

‘This will not do. I will not have these creatures continue to plague us a moment longer. I will say this simply, so no one here mistakes my intent. We will all of us, work without the burden of our pride in combating this menace. Ladies and Gentlemen you are all men and women of worth, but also of ability. I say we put ourselves to this task and I say we will be equal to it! Now that I have introduced the matter, I would ask each of you for your thoughts.’

Thoughts… Thoughts? Thoughts were most dangerous things. Drow? Even worse. A rousing speech regardless... I listened silently as the others regarded one another. No doubt each had something to say, but none would over speak the other. They talked of the attacks. The one at the bridge and the attack on the Sorcerous Sundries… and the missing proprietor. I couldn’t say when I had -stopped- breathing during the recourse but… at some point my need for air won over my need to be still. Nothing was taken from the shop… and finally I spoke, my voice barely above whisper… I knew the answer even as I spoke. Why did I even ask?

‘Is the shop's proprietor well?’

‘We have still not recovered him.’

The words echoed and reverberated through me as surely as I had been struck by a thousand blows at once. Nothing was taken… except what they sought… and what they sought was information that only that unfortunate wizard had… And because he didn’t have the information they sought… oh Mercy of Ilmater… Mercy of sweetest Mercies… forgive me. I barely heard the conversation… until the Duke’s words cut through my thoughts… his last words working like heated swords on a creature of ice.

‘This is no threat to be taken lightly. The fact we see them at all means they want something, and that's the nub of the issue. What… -do- … they want?’

Jonas turned his gaze on me… a very serious gaze. I held my silence. What was I to say? ‘Your Grace they want what is in my head? I, that you see as such a blessing, is a curse to your fine city and I will bring the blasted hells to your gates?’ No it was best to say as little as possible. After all… there was no way to know who was watching… and no way to tell how much of what was known, or what could be used to detriment… I had to step carefully, and careless words were very dangerous right now. Jonas spoke volumes with his eyes. I shifted uneasily. Dajala spoke, as did Ivaris and the others. I stared down my wineglass as though there was a whole circus within. Trapped. Even the eyes of the Duke were not blind to my discomfort, or to the very pointed look Jonas was giving me. I held my silence, waiting to see what the others knew, what was to be revealed. My thoughts paused by Jonas’ whisper.

‘Meri…’

My own whisper, my lips barely moved… air barely passed my lips. My eyes left my glass for only a second to glance at Jonas… who at this point was looking at me in a way that made my mouth go dry and my whole being cringe. He knew as well as I what they sought… what was afoot. And still I fought against it. So long I had guarded what I could, spoke only when I had to… and here among these… how much was truly safe to say?

‘There is no way to know for certain Jonas.’

‘You should still say something. It could be important, Meri.’

I was only scarcely aware of the conversation among the others, and blessedly grateful that Jonas and I sat at the end of the table. I drew a desperate and slow breath as the conversation continued. Jonas’ gaze hardly left me. Then Dajala said her fingers were broken for asking too many questions. What sort of questions would she be asking? My stomach turned at the thought of innocent people getting hurt… and at what foolish ones may yet know. Jonas whispered urgently in my ear. I could feel his frustration with my silence.

‘Meri, we have a duty to the common good. To the innocent. You -must- say something.’

Duty. Duty to the people. Duty to the Dukes. Duty to our faiths… Duty to keep it hidden… keep the door shut. Shut. It can do no harm shut away… to no other but me… That had been my argument for years. No one else was suffering for its loss save the Drow and the Thayans or the others who sought it. I was hidden safe, the amulet was lost to them all… no one gets hurt… until they start getting desperate. Until those who seek become mad with the search, and those unwise start asking questions… Well and truly trapped. My mind worked desperately for a way out of it. The others were aware of mine and Jonas’ private conversation. I am sure our body language alone left them with many questions. I was the pray… and there were many hunters… I was trapped.

‘Meri, even if it is just a coincidence, Duke Eltan needs to know. Tell him in private if you don't wish everyone to know. . .’

I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Me? Speak with His Grace the Duke Eltan of Baldur’s Gate? About why his grand city was attacked? Watch how quickly the world seeks to choke the Saint with her halo… Oh dearest mercies… why did he have to keep looking at me like that? As if things weren’t hard enough? There was talk of the thieves guild and connections to all of this mess. I squirmed inwardly more so than outwardly… but enough in either case that it was plenty evident.

Dajala’s words hinted she knew more than she should. And she whispered names that were -dead- and needed to remain dead. Oh dear mercy what had that woman stumbled into… this was getting more complicated by the second and the more I though to f things… the worse it got… the more I feared. I prayed. How I prayed. I could feel Jonas’ annoyance… the look he gave me was scathing enough. All I could do was look at him in apology and pray that whatever Dajala knew wasn’t enough to damn us all. A dangerous web we walked… and I worried that she didn’t have the legs for it.

They wondered how they got into the city to begin with and I couldn’t help but think back to the portal… the box of stones I had in the bottom of my pack and the pages of notes on the combinations of places… the possibility was endless if you knew the right metaphor… you could open many doors… I took a desperate sip of my wine. I felt like I had swallowed molten glass. There was no big brother kindness in Jonas’ eyes as he regarded me. I understood why, but I didn’t like it regardless… He whispered sternly in my ear.

‘If you will not say -something-, I must.’

I gave him a terrified and pleading look. I begged and prayed for his quiet. Not here. Not now… My thoughts a desperate whirl. I worried what Dajala knew… and what she didn’t. She was afraid. I could see it. I didn’t want her to know… -more- if it would put her in further danger. The Watchman had hinted at her being followed… at her asking around… I was balanced on the tip of a blade. My weight slowly pushing the blade deeper. On either side, the hells and all the darkness that waits me, or the suffering of those who don’t deserve it. How long before the blade left a fatal wound… could I find some solid ground before then? I prayed. Jonas held his tongue… Dajala at least had the sense to hold her own this time. I was so scared…

‘Jonas… please. It isn’t safe…’

Valerius looked at me and mouthed his concern. He wanted to know if things were okay. No they weren’t bloody well okay! By all the mercies in all the realms things were not okay. I wanted to scream. To run and hide… most of all I wanted Jonas to stop looking at me like that. I would have to say something. Do something. I almost shook my head no… instead I drained the contents of my glass. Completely. Valerius raised a brow at Jonas, and I resumed trying to burn holes in the crystal with my eyes.

Food was brought in, the Duke departed… Jonas at least stopped glowering at me like a disobedient child… things lightened, conversations became more pleasant… and I barely heard any of it. Finally I promised Jonas that I would speak with the duke. He eased after that. And we began to eat…

Only to be stopped by reports of attacks on the gate. The others rushed off and I went to change. But not before a worried conversation with Dajala… she had been given a bottle of wine… and asked to come stay at the Feldepost… I cautioned her against it… but her curiosity had won. I would seek her later… though she looked as though she was certain we would never see each other again… I prayed she was wrong… This however… was only the start of a very long couple of days, and a prompt end to the honeymoon.
~~

//
Yes. Cliffhanger again. I know. =) I will write tomorrow again, but I need food. This should tide you all over. =)
//

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-THIRD ENTRY]

I had held my promise to Jonas. I was standing there… in the hallway, surrounded by guards unseen no doubt… There was precious little I dared say, and with each second my anxiety grew, despite his assurances that he ‘didn’t bite.’ Time worked against me as it had so often of late. If I hurried, I could catch her… maybe… if I ran. For now I stood here waiting. I had promised to speak, not that I would speak of everything. In fact I intended to speak as little as possible. I did just that, and so far was still standing.

‘You are certain of your assumption?’

‘More certain than I wish to be.’

The silence was thick… cloying. Finally I managed a meek questioning glance.

‘Your Grace?’

‘I suggest you visit the castle in the morning, speak to Captain Ardias.’

‘As you wish, Your Grace.’

I curtseyed low, and he departed quick as you please, his work done. I looked about warily again and re-laced my boots. By now the battle that had interrupted dinner had come to close. I worried for Jonas and the others. At this point… I wished to be six places at once. I wished for tea… for Tessian… and I prayed.

I hurried to the temple of Torm to see about Jonas. It was a battle with a demi-lich. I should have been there to mend from the sounds of it… I would have been a fool to not speak with the Duke however, that kind of chance doesn’t come often. Time was against us… badly. Seeing the others no worse for wear, I penned a note to Siomir, telling him to come straight to Beregost. Dajala’s last words rang through me like a death knell… I begged forgiveness of many as I called protective prayers at a dead run.

‘I am heading to Beregost ,staying at Feldepost tonight. If I do not come back...that would be a good place to start looking. Please Meri, tell Siomir... Please...I am very scared. Being a Sun Elf I see things... Sorry I did not leave them alone.’

The way she looked at me. I hugged her, and she hugged like it was the last one. I urged her to not travel alone… to not go to the Feldepost. When I couldn’t find her at the Ishtari tower, I worried, mulling so many thoughts through my mind. How in all of Martyrdom did that girl get wrapped up in this blasted web? What did she even know that was attracting so much attention? Once again I found myself wondering who to trust… who was on what side… who was watching…

I had barely caught my breath when I stepped up to speak to Sam. He said that she -had- been there but left with four folks in black cloaks. Blast it all to the Hells! He said she looked fine when they left… I knew better than to hope it would remain as such. I tried to tell her… Mercy of Ilmater… sometimes I wish people would just trust that I speak for their benefit and won’t lie to them… especially when their lives are in danger.

Siomir, Rith and Joan arrived, and after a brief explanation of some things… very brief. They headed north to seek clues, and I finished scouring the inn. By the time I caught up with them, Dajala had been found and dragged to the temple of Tempus. She looked exhausted. Rith looked fit to be tied, Joan observed… To say Siomir looked frustrated was an understatement.

‘Have you come to Save me?’

I looked from Dajala to the others.

‘Do you need saving?’

From yourself maybe, came the thought. And whatever else, and whoever else you have drawn the eyes of. She wasn’t willing to speak of some things. Finally Siomir left with their frustrations. And Dajala talked. She knew things. Deadly names. Names that were -dead- and names that could -kill-. She talked of journals and riddles and codes. All because she wanted to see what the Drow were doing at the Sundries… and once she found out it was dangerous… not meant for one such as she… she kept digging. Now she endangered not only herself… but any who had ever touched the web that encased the secrets of the amulet.

‘Meri, you must tell me… promise me , don’t leave me to riddle this out alone.’

‘Dajala... you should not be in this at all dear... its too dangerous!’

I urged her to keep her voice down. Tell Her? Promise to let her unravel this? No! If she unravels too much, and the enemies … And it angered me to no end that the only reason she had brought such risk to so many was for her curiosity. They would destroy everything and everyone she held dear. They would not stop until she broke… until they drained from her every bit of information… and what she held may only be bits and pieces… But when they get enough bits and pieces gathered from everywhere… Their eyes will be on me…

She spoke now in a whisper, wanting me to tell her what the poem meant. I would not. Dared not. She spoke a poem... One that was disturbingly familiar… The fact that she knows these things… Gods how this complicated things! I listened in horror as she spoke the slave’s tongue:

‘All that glistens is not gold
Often have you heard that told
Many a man his life hath sold
But my outside to behold
Gilded tombs do worms enfold
Talon descends with arms enfolding
Thorns the rubies of loss
Iron hard the rules of war
Many little insects…’

She stopped reciting and looked at me… by now I was wrapped in fear and worry because there was only one way she could speak of such. I felt -cold-For the fourth time in as long as I could remember… I was cold. At least she didn’t know exactly what was going on… she spoke of Soulkeep but did not know. Perhaps it could be salvaged…

‘By the gods it is talking about a war....possible war for the Soulkeep and the rest will tell me all about it! I just need to brake the code!’

Was she daft?! Was she not listening to me. I prayed a greater hand of patience than normal and spoke in an urgent whisper to the Elven woman sitting across from me.

'Dajala. What you need to do is -stop-. Stop saying that name, Soulkeep. Stop using the other names. They are dead names. -Dead- Do you understand what I am trying to say to you? Stop trying to unravel it. It will only bring death to you and those you care about.’

‘If you told me more--’

She tapped her head as she spoke indicating her mind. She said she had it memorized. Why? How could she be so smart and still not understand. I gave her a pleading look.

‘Dajala please. You don't understand.’

‘No. Not yet I don’t. How long before I find out. It’s all in here.’

I found my patience being tested as our conversation wore on. I pleaded.

‘If too much is uncovered to quickly people will die. Will Die. Souls will be lost. Gone… No second chances. Dajala. -Please-!’

The conversation continued, and I held to as many secrets as I could… She had his journal… she had another book. She was tired. I don’t know what the four had done to her but she was exhausted. She finally agreed to stop asking questions and just work with what she already knew, perhaps what she held could help. It was the best we could hope for. The damage was done… now all we could do was try to mend it best we can, and pray infection and rot doesn’t cost us. But she kept asking me.

‘You should rest. and if there is any Mercy in you at all, for your sake as well as mine and the sake of who knows how many others... wake and forget all you knew of this. Dajala I cannot protect you from yourself. I can only shield you so much from so many. The only way I know to keep you safe is if you do not know what they seek or why. There is only one way I know of to end it... and we are not ready for that, not yet. I need more time. You keep calling attention to yourself… to this… and more than you and I will suffer for it. Dajala... it is not too late to change directions... and seek a kinder path… please you have to trust me when I say its safer you do -not- know.’

Maybe I was begging. Rambling at least. Mercy forgive me…It wasn’t as if I hadn’t always given up everything for every one when needs must. But I was not going to sacrifice everyone and everything I hold dear for curiosity. With all the patience I could muster, which was wearing frighteningly thin… I spoke.

‘Please... consider my words and wisdom, for my sake if not your own. Let it go.’

‘It would be easier for me to leave my legs behind--’

‘By all that is Mercy! Some doors are not meant to be opened Dajala!! Some secrets not meant to be revealed... I will ask but once more, for the sake of many... leave it lay.’

The silence was palpable. She looked at me with tired eyes, and I imagine I looked quite desperate. I prayed. I know I was asking her a lot… but not nearly as much as she was asking me by letting her continue. It wasn’t entirely selfish. It was self preservation as much as duty to protect as many as possible. For the first time since Billy and Dianne… I had something to lose. Always I sacrificed all I had to give. And if I was to give up all I had now, it would not be at the flight of fancy of some overly curious Elf who lacked the sense to think of something other than her own curiosity. I was getting upset. Mercy, I prayed… Let her see this for what it is… Let her find some measure of mercy.

‘It does not matter what I want... the code will solve itself in my head...you know that. Then what do I do?’

‘Nothing. You -do nothing-. You are already attracting attention. Dangerous attention. If you are unwilling to step wisely then you will be the ruin of all of us.’

My voice never rose above a whisper as we spoke… I was starting to feel as the victim of a spider must. The web was tightening… and I could not move. The venom had me paralyzed… waiting… and here she sat practically spinning spider silk for the figurative arachnid that waited to drain me of all I was.

‘I am alone and scared...and yes i am being watched. Three different sets of people. I think...maybe four.’

‘Don’t you think that maybe it means you should stop? That you are in over your pretty little head? That you will not leave it be... you put more than yourself at risk... for what for some riddle you think you must solve?’

‘Maybe…’

I pushed away from the table. How many had died to protect this… how many suffered? And she would cast it all aside for her curiosity? She calls herself my friend and dear… I see her as a friend. It hurt… it stung deeply that my own suffering to protect this meant little in the face of some unanswered question that was never hers to ask?

‘Foolish Elf!’

She winced and my anger fled me. I paced as she spoke.

‘Please, I get enough of name calling form Rith.'

‘Dajala please… You must understand. It is foolish. It -is- folly dear... it will be detrimental. You must see that.’

‘I do. How can i let you stand alone. The one who saved me? My life ended that night the Banites took me...and a new life began when you saved me. I must repay you.’

‘Then heed my words. Dear, they will seek you for your knowledge... they will seek to destroy you and all you know for that information. You are but a stepping stone and they will not hesitate to shatter you. None should know such things Dajala.’

‘I know...but maybe I can pass something on to you. A weapon maybe… before die. When I finish with this code I will tell you what it says.’

‘I would rather you not die. You owe me nothing. We talked about this before. It is your -choice- to turn from it, or continue your path... Either way I will try to keep you safe... but the further you push... the harder that is. Speak to no one of what you know. Save for myself or Siomir, in all else you are ignorant. No more questions. Especially questions that should not be answered. Please. Promise me.’

She nodded. I prayed she would hold to what she promised me. Siomir and the others returned then. I cautioned her to not travel alone. To be careful. I prayed against all hope that she would be wise… be silent. We all went our separate ways. I sought out Tessian, and prayed that this would not cost my most precious Mercy. I would give up anything that is mine to give… not him… Ever.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FOURTH ENTRY]

I would not say the day passed quietly… I would not say it passed gracefully. I went to the temple well before dawn. I tended my duties there, and returned to the orphanage to situate things for the day. I left the orphanage in the care of Sister Juna for the day. I needed to find balance. A headache… constant and dull to the point of distraction and irritation, and it wore my patience thin. I had meant to meditate and reflect. But as things often go, it is no good to make plans. Plans serve two functions… to illustrate what can go wrong… and to give things the exact chance to do just that. Not always… but most times.

I have never been a master of combat. My place is to mend, not to fight. I leave that to others who know what to do and stand a better chance of succeeding. My roll is to keep them on their feet long enough they may finish the battle as needs must. Unfortunately, I can only do so much so quickly. In those cases when the enemy wounds faster than I may mend… my duty is to gather the fallen and attempt to draw them from death, so that if they chose, they could continue their path.

Today was a day of mending… mostly gathering. I found myself seeking companions fell by the great ancient white wyrm atop the mountains. To find them -and- dodge the great beast’s footfalls was a feat. Fortunately the Hand of Mercy held us even then. We learned from our missteps, albeit painfully, and none fell that could not be returned to walk paths of the living. We regrouped and returned to face our foe with a rematch in mind. Our secret weapon? Ramas. In all my days I have never seen one who could so -effectively- use his blades. We had also learned much in our first battle, and our tactics were revised. It was a bit of a fight, but I am able to say that the majority of the blood on the ice was that of the dragon’s.

Exhausting as that was, most stayed in Nashkell. Mindful of the dangers that haunt the back of my mind and my headache, I stayed in capable company, and guarded. I planned on a peaceful evening in good company… but we are talking about plans… Some of the others went to train in the mines… and found trouble. I found myself mending wounds and recalling fallen friends. It was the start of a long complicated mess.

There was a dwarf who was insistant on rushing forward when he faced nearly impossible odds. Leo of course was good from a distance, Ramas was trying to caution the dwarf and the two paladins to use some sense and tactics. We found ourselves facing Beholders and Illithid and other things that should not have been in such large numbers, much less above ground. Further pushing by the brash cost much. Even at my urgings to regroup and come back. I was exhausted and my ability to call prayers was drastically diminished.

Even Ramas fell to the Drow that were there. I crept about, shielded by my prayers and gathered the fallen with a heavy heart. We should have pulled back to get help and rest. Instead they felt it duty to charge forward… and the dwarf was unswayable.

‘We will take this foothold… For our House... and for the Fallen Mother. Spread out and find the others...kill them.’

I glared at the creature a moment as I dragged the others back out of the mine. There were no others… They had -all- fallen. I would have been dead in short order myself had Ilmater not so closely guarded me. At least the Matron had been slain. I took some comfort in that. They would not hold the mines. I took some comfort in that too as I prayed over fallen companions. I barely had the strength to draw them from death. I had told them I was exhausted, they could see we were badly outnumbered. The fact that Ramas fell in battle was evidence enough we were too few and needed to regroup. Once righted, Ramas and Leo went ahead. Once again I tried to reason with the headstrong pair of paladins.

‘Please… Next time I say it is prudent to pull back and get help or rest... I may not be the most brilliant tactician but I have learned when to regroup. We were too few, my prayers only serve so well. We hadn’t the strength to face such, and it was time to do that after the -first- time I had to drag you all to safety, and draw you from death… we should have pulled back. Not given up the fight, but regrouped and gathered numbers. Pride is as dangerous as anger. Duty cannot be done if you are dead.’

Briel nodded and Celoras spoke up now. His tone was stern, but mine remained patient.

‘Better to die than to loose your honor.’

‘What good is honor if it costs innocent lives? What honor is there in a -needless- and avoidable death?’

‘Better to live and to protect the innocent.’

I nodded to Briel and looked to Celoras as he spoke again.

‘There is nothing wrong in giving your life for a good cause.’

‘Oh I agree.’

‘As do I, a good cause. A just cause. But to die just because you are unwilling to admit you cannot do it all? No. If we had all fallen... and none could warn the others and more fell... then what? Common sense paladin. It will carry you just as far as your blade. I have fought long enough to know there is no dishonor in pulling back to regroup and fight again.’

‘You have a point there.’

‘You know Miss Meri... all Paladins are crazy.’

I met her joke with a sterner look.

‘Crazy does not give one right to risk innocent lives. One should choose battles wisely. Perhaps Sir Arkaine is right, they should send an army to reclaim the mines. Or at least a sizable force, and an -army-, a few paladins, is not... we shall warn those of Nashkell and gather a proper force and retake the mine... but not with half a dozen well meaning souls.’

They nodded slowly. I had not meant to lecture so… but I did not wish a repeat of the day’s events. I had dragged so many from death, some more than once. I do my duty, but days such as this, it is less than pleasant.

‘Now... some proper rest to reflect on the day's lessons I think. And by all that is Mercy… I need some tea.’

I offered them a patient smile and we made our way to Beregost, tired, and heavy with lessons learned the hard way. I know Ramas had gotten frustrated with the brashness, I hoped they learned from it. Choose your battles indeed. Thankfully we may all choose our battles, and live to learn from another day.
~~

I sought solace and rest at the temple. Tessian wished to visit the Sisters and I was to weary once I finished my other duties to go another step. My dear husband. Gentle soul that he is. There is strength in him. As faith and heart bid… now I understand such more truly than ever before. Faith is my strength, and he is my hope when my strength wanes. How Mercy has smiled on this humble servant. How he grants me this boon, this balm to my heart. Tessian mends what faith does not… Something I had not seen as broken until it was blessedly restored. Faith sustains me, bids me my duty and I endure as needs must. How much easier that is when my heart may sing? When I have something to look forward too. Mercy has smiled, for no longer do I live from one suffering to the next. Had I truly lived so? I bore my duties gladly. I was content to ease what suffering I could. Determined that none would suffer as I had if I could but help it.

My most precious mercy… gentle husband. I have walked long in shadow, and found small mercies… taken to what kindness I could find. Never did I wish to take more than I was due… and yet you offer me so much, so freely. More than this simple healer has earned in her eyes… He does not see me with my eyes though. He sees me as none ever has, as no other could. He looks at me and my soul sings with a voice I knew not it possessed. There is Mercy in laughter, in joy, in love… I understand wholly now that which I serve. I serve Mercy in all forms. Never have I walked my path alone… My heart has found a light that brightens even the palest hopes. There is ever hope… always light. And if I walk through the storms to come… if shadows fall across my path… I may look to hope. I may look to love. I may draw from my faith. In the End there is only Mercy and we shall endure it… blessing or bane… Together.
~~

How grand it was to show him our place. They built us a fine orphanage. Bid us kindly care for the children. Home. Jonas had asked how I enjoyed my new home. I’ve seen some of my brightest dreams come to pass of late. I have a place to care for the children. I have a home, a husband, a family… albeit adopted, but family all the same. If these dreams may come to pass, perhaps the grandest of them is yet to be mine? Dare I hope? In time perhaps.

I spoke with Jonas of the woman yesterday. The one who tried, rather clumsily to sneak in… And of our subsequent argument there after. Wanted to get the children to do her work for her. Honestly! The very nerve of some people… oh it unsettles me. I wonder if it was my anger that sparked that headache? Or if it was something more? Jonas seems to think its some sort of reaction to something, either way I think it best to avoid the woman to some degree. If only for the children’s sake. I don’t need her dishonesty undermining my teaching. Not to mention her absolute laziness. Regardless, Jonas is aware of her, and the subsequent threat to my health. …if it truly was my health that she threatened…

Speaking of threats to the orphanage… There was a rather odd sort present while Nerbert, the one Elias sent to tend the door hinges and see about wards. Wards… on an orphanage. The very idea. Not even children are safe these days… and this odd sort was a perfect example of why. Lounged about the dining area after the children had gotten to sleep. His manner irritated me. After all, this place was for the children, I was trying to spend time with Tessian who I had barely seen since my return to my duties, and here he was acting like it was a common tavern. It isn’t as if we do not offer food and shelter at the temple, a short walk away. He then proceeded to draw a fine bit of anger from me. He asked if he could buy a child. Now whether or not the rest of his statement implied that he wished them to make him food or use them for food I couldn’t say, and frankly, didn’t care. Fortunately there were those close at hand that could deal with it. All I was fit to do was throw him out and busy myself.

The day wasn’t all bad at least. Today… I finally got to show Tessian the orphanage. He loved it. I was so very happy. He was delighted. There were some more formal things to deal of course, duties and guests to tend. Selah visited. I squared things away fairly well with the … uh what was his name? Francis. Yes, Doctor Mortimer I believe it was. He seems a likable sort. My time divided between temple and orphanage, I am glad of the help. Cat even came to visit. There were many kind moments.

Sister Abby is visiting as well. She is teaching in Damara, and is only here on leave. It is good to see her well, but it saddens me she will not remain. No one knows what happened to Brother Rente… the others seem to have drifted to other paths as well. I do miss them each. It is nice to have kindred in faith nearby, but my place is here, and their paths will carry them each to their own duties.

The children are still sleeping peacefully, and all else has gone quiet. I think I will make some tea and seek to spend some time with my husband while the rest of the world is occupied. After all… tomorrow the storm on the horizon may break. There are dark whispers of late… looming shadows that threaten to close in. Not a moment wasted when time works against our mortal coils. I shall gather my mercies and prepare for the coming storm. For now there is light and joy and time… and I will not waste the chance offered.
~~

More talk and whispers today. What started as a pleasant day, including a bit of dinner with dear ones, ended with worries and high tempers. I … lost my own temper today. Dajala fails to understand what is at stake. I had gone to the keep to return some books, seek some new stories and things to read to the children. We sat and passed idle chatter. Selah among them. Emrys and Dajala went upstairs with armed guards… and I could not help but worry over why. Then… Emrys snags Firavain… Dajala speaks to Siomir… and note that none of them looked pleased. Polly managed to find me, and she amused Selah and the others for a bit. Dear little bird… have to watch what we say. Fortunately no one understood why I blushed when the bird mentioned checkers. Anything else the bird repeated was not nearly so embarrassing… though some was a bit personal, still she is a dear thing. Tessian will no doubt be most amused to hear that Polly calls Selah creepy.

Worried as I was about all the conversations… things weren’t bad until Siomir nodded to the door and I followed him and Dajala out of the keep. I really worried when Siomir was most short and we took off for a quieter place… quickly. Worry was turned to frustration as Dajala and Siomir began speaking… Frustration to anger as she spoke. She hinted someone was in trouble and refused to answer my query to who or why. I repeated the question urgently several times… Does she not understand if there is trouble, time is precious and seconds can mean the difference between life and death? Trouble and disaster?

Siomir urged calm but with each impertinent question… No care or thought to what she asks or what she risks. Even when I told her… albeit more harshly than I should have… she still asked questions she was better off not asking. Siomir urged caution a great deal… he urged me calm. I was trying to be calm. Truly I was but Firavain was the last thing that I knew stood between Spider and Prey, and now she was risking that. Not only was she risking the well being of all I knew… but of any that cursed thing would touch. She risked unleashing it on a world undeserving at hands most cruel. I have been calm and accepting of my place in this for years. Willing to give up all I had, all I was, all my thoughts, my life, nearly well my soul if needs must… to keep that thing hidden and from cruel and careless hands… and she was making my every pain… my every loss… the loss of -so many- some meaningless pittance for her curiosity. Yes I was angry. Now… I had something to lose, something I would give up if I -had- to but not because she couldn’t let her curiosity sit.

I don’t know how long I whispered my hard words in her ear, or when exactly Siomir had stopped trying to calm the torrent that rushed from me. Even though my words may have been justified… and even my anger… it doesn’t mean I should have lost my temper. I made sure to apologize, and was even forgiven. Warily and afraid… I made my way home. I prayed that I find the strength and the courage to stand as I know I must. For soon the moment would come to pass… And what lay ahead will either free me finally … or destroy me utterly. Mercy willing, stand with me, my lord Ilmater. Let me not falter… I will endure, for in the End there is only Mercy.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNRED AND EIGHTY-FIFTH ENTRY]

I spent the day unraveling some of what was bothering Selah, Joan and the others had been worried about her. Frankly, I found her demeanor worrisome. She wasn’t physically ill… no… what is wrong with her is something I, myself have suffered from in the past. She was literally tearing herself apart from the inside out. She was to the point that the battle in her mind, with her own conflicted self image, was manifesting physically. Blackouts, fainting and such. I am not sure what the exact cause is… but I suspect it has much to do with what we discussed the day we hid in the pillow fort at the temple. She has asked me to let her help me with one thing. I have agreed in hopes that it will give her focus, and combat what she is feeling. We will have to see if time will mend what no healer can. She will have to find her own path again, and all I can do at present is offer a kindness, a light… We will see. In the very least, maybe a fresh pair of eyes will help things.

I suppose the days of late can be measured in conversations. In between tending the things at the Temple and things at the orphanage, there is conversation. I find myself busy trying to keep the others afloat as their own measures of hope run thin. Rith seems to think Joan hates her. Joan has been quiet and distracted lately, when apart from her duties to the keep. Rith is upset, because Joan is upset, Joan is upset because Firavain is upset… Firavain… that silly Elf seems to think drinking himself to oblivion is the answer.

I offer encouraging words to all of them, but for all my wisdom and kindness… I fear it may not be enough. I know I cannot spare them all their sufferings. Sometimes all I can do is help them stand while they are weak. Much as Ilmater’s Hand is at my back when my own pain cannot be spared me. May my strength be theirs, my faith strong for them, that they may find hope again and make peace with that which can’t be changed.

The Watchman, for all his silent observing… was less silent this night. I had walked with Firavain and Siomir for a distance. We enjoyed the silence of the walk, the air and environment around us. I had left the orphanage in care of Sister Juna and we walked with no particular destination in mind. We had stopped in Beregost, where we all passed time in conversation. It was after Firavain went to sleep, and Siomir and I headed to the Elven camp, that we came upon Kliron.

As we arrived at the camp, I had intention of letting the Elves conduct their gathering, and speak with Kliron… what I hadn’t planned on Zessimire. He insists on treating me as nobility… much to my own dismay he actually called me -Queen- which of course the Watchman found utterly hilarious of my ‘goon’. I wish he wouldn’t call them that… they aren’t goons… or servants, some might be hangers on of course, but most are loyal and dear friends. Guardians, some, but friends most of them… in the very least, deserving of some measure of respect, which the word goon seems to strip from them. Twenty years my senior and as protective as one, I have found some pleasure in drawing his ire, by calling my Silent Watchman ‘Father’. It fits really. However I fear I will never live this one down.

And the others were worried of offending me… Sometimes I wish things were simpler, but my place is to guide and teach. My duty demands that I endure even misguided flattery, patronization, frill and formality, and circumstance as gracefully as I am able. Some days are harder than others… but at least most days people remember I am mortal, that I am a human being, a woman at that. I have my less than graceful moments. Less than graceful moments… there have been a lot of those lately. Mind yourself Meri. Be careful. Now is hardly the place to misstep.
~~

Well part of Firavain’s problem seems to be the games of another. I will have to speak with her. I can’t have him out of focus right now. Not with whispers of Drow so close. I hear rumors of slave trackers. His other issue is Joan. His heart needs time to heal. We talked a while. This war is slowly destroying him. I think I hate most of all that I don’t know how to help this overly conflicted Elf. His hopes fade, slowly, and if we don’t find a way to renew him… He will fall. Not that I will let him. So help me, I will not see him fall for my sake. I’ll carry the Elf if I have to. And so he calls me Cliff… Stubborn as a Cliff. If I could do for him half of what he manages for me… he would survive this with enough graces to enjoy the rest of his years.

Zach has returned… and his entrance was less than graceful in a manner I have come to expect of him. He made his way to the orphanage, smack in the middle of the children’s math lesson, looking rather like an arrow pincushion, with a live chicken in his arms no less. Blind to boot. I ushered wide eyed children into the room to play, tossed the chicken in a pen out the back door, and tended Zach as well as I could. ‘Little Mother.’ Yet another pet name, nickname, title… another name to hide Meri behind. And a stab at my short stature. Too bad halo height doesn’t count, that would stop the short jokes in short order… Mercies… now I am doing it. No matter. At least my temper is well in hand and I can laugh about some things.

Captain Ardias Guthrun came to visit today too. We’ve had lots of visitors of late. But this was a courtesy visit of sorts. The Dukes wished to know how the orphanage faired. Nothing was said in present company about the topic of dinner… and that will no doubt have to wait for a time when there are not so many extra ears. For now I wait to be summoned at the leisure of ones such as the Dukes and the good Adjunct Guthrun.

Rith and Joan helped me with the children. Rith finished cooking supper, Joan amused the children with stories while I tidied up, and prepared the next day’s lessons. Once the children were off to bed, everything neat and orderly, the others went on their way, and I sought rest. So far it has been a quiet morning. But it is almost time for the children to wake. Juna should be here soon too. I best go downstairs.
~~

What a tumultuous pair of days. I cleaned the orphanage until Juna threatened to hide my mop, then tended the temple, prepared food, and cleaned until Addy threatened to do likewise to Juna with my broom. I got told to go rest, but restless… and with Tessian off tending other things, I wandered. I decided to visit Sam. Sam of course was glad to see me, though disappointed I didn’t have a gaggle of companions with me to line his pockets. Sarah was all too happy to serve tea to a polite customer for a change.

Kel was there for a time, and we chatted aimlessly. Sam made mention of some of Harker’s old friends back in town, and shipments of Waterdhavian red wine, wine from Calimport. From a particular Elven… lass? Hmm. I would have to suspect whoever delivered the wine is tied to the others, but one I haven’t met. The fact that the members of that Shevarashan group are back about will likely mean trouble for me, though how much, why, and when, are mysteries that time will have to reveal. At least Harker is not among them. I am safe from his extremist schemes… though I wonder about the others.

Kliron and Emrys joined us and we talked about Dajala, who had been almost hand in hand with discussions of the Drow and of the Soulkeep lately. At least the books are safe… that makes me feel better… I was getting angry… why was I getting angry? That has been happening a lot lately. Ever since that first dream near the light house… with Leo and Ramas and the others. Was it really a dream? Firavain had said he found us unconscious… Confused a lot too. Sometimes it is hard to think.

I have noticed my temper flaring more often. My anger with Dajala, picking fights with Kliron, snapping at people more, annoyed with more… like the girl, and I got so angry at her I had a headache. Talk of Thayans, all of it… wears on me and I am more angry. Just like I was angry then as I was talking them out of killing her to keep her quiet and safe. She was dangerous. She was drawing attention… They had the books… they were at least safer now. He was right though. She would go elsewhere. It was up to me? My call?

I blinked at them as the conversation continued. I felt a pressure building in the back of my thoughts. That dull ache began to swell within my thoughts. My concentration slipped. I looked at the others, things seemed to slow and blur. My head hurt, and I thought for a moment I would pass out… but it never got worse. It simply remained… -present- there in my thoughts.

‘You can’t always protect people from their own unwise choices, Meri.’

Kliron nodded in agreement with Emrys’ words. Kel had left… it was the three of us. No one else. Something was there though. -He- was there. But this time, instead of images and feelings… rage and malevolent hate…

‘Just -Kill- her… you know it makes sense.’

The headache sharpened almost unbearably, and I pushed past it. Though the other two looked confused at my outburst.

‘Absolutely not!’

-He- recoiled away.

‘No one is killing her!’

The ache subsided… -he- fled back to his corner… of sorts. As I struggled to rebalance, Emrys twitched. I worried for him as he rose slowly and asked for some water. Could the demon still effect him? Even trapped in my mind? No chances. I murmured a prayer, and we sat and conversed a while longer. Hushed whispers, each trying to maintain calmness, and not let on what was wrong. I didn’t dare tell Emrys who I thought was where. He was angry with me for not telling him that Aznik possessed me for a time… He would be furious if he found out that the servant’s -Master- was trapped in my head. I was walking a very dangerous line. I was starting to worry about it to… it was manifesting more consciously. Not just in nightmares… was that why I was angering easier? How long could I keep this up? Someone needed to unravel Soulkeep, and fast. We had to find a way to destroy it before it was too late. I fear if I have to carry this further… I will fall to it, or the enemy will gain its power. The others were right. We were running out of time.

Kliron had to leave, and for a time Emrys and I passed some quiet and mostly pleasant conversation. He made note that I had less people around me of late. I blamed it on being busy, the newness of a saint walking among them wearing off. In truth I was avoiding people. I didn’t trust myself around others. Not that I would hurt them, not on purpose, but my words have been sharp. I don’t need to add to their sufferings by being tripe rude.

This lead to the height that so many hold me to. My ‘flock of worshippers…’ as he put it. It grated on my nerves, but I let it pass. Well… until he mentioned stepping from my ‘pedestal’ that the others had placed me on. That I step away from duty and faith, and ‘stop being a tool.’ And just like that… our conversation turned into an old argument. One we had had a few times since those last moments in the Bhaal temple.

‘I believe you -think- that you owe something to your God. But in the end, the only duty we have if we can even call it a duty is to ourselves.’

‘I don't -think- I have stood at his feet and been asked. I do so gladly. The Willing Servant in return for the kindness I was shown.’

‘So that's it then? You offer yourself as a servant... possibly even a slave all for receiving some "blessings"?’

‘I am a slave to no one... least of all my faith. Willing Servant, yes, but by my own choosing!’

‘You're simply being used, Meri... acting a s a simple tool.’

‘Why are we having this discussion again Emrys? I -chose- my path.’

‘Many people sell themselves into slavery thinking they have no other options--’

‘I haven't sold myself into anything!’

‘Are you so sure about that?’

‘Absolutely sure.’

He sat there looking rather smug. I stood there, stubborn as ever and defiant. Our barely contained whispers were drawing looks from others. We threw arguments back and forth and slowly, ever so slowly, it stopped being an argument and we stood there, on opposite sides each intent on hurting the other. If anyone knew how... he knew how to rattle me. And I let him do just that.

‘What do you know anyway? You turned on me simply because you felt my god didn't do enough when it was my own folly that lead me to where I am. You stood by me from the beginning... from the start! and just because of one mistake the whole lot of you turn away? When did I cease to be human? hmm? When did I lose my right to make a mistake?!’

‘I know a hell of a lot more than you'd think. Mostly because I haven't blinded myself in childish awe of a more powerful being who really cares nothing for me.’

‘He does care, he always has.’

‘Hardly.’

I knew then I should have walked away. I knew I should have given up the old argument and left him to his anger and blindness. I knew I shouldn’t have let it go further, and instead, anger clouded my thoughts and I glared back.

‘It takes a stronger one to admit to needing help than for one to insist they may do it all.’

‘Seems he's created a very efficient method of keeping a leash on his hounds.’

‘He has done no such thing!’

‘You think him a kind and self-less god? His "caring" for you is completely selfish!’

‘He is more benevolent than most and has always looked out for those in his care, and those in need. of course I do. How is it selfish?!’

‘He cares for you so that you may grow to honor him... admire him and thus become a tool that he can use to accomplish his own goals.’

‘What do you know of gods, you turn your back on all of them! His only goals is the well being of people! If he wishes my help in that he will have it!’

‘But i won't single him out in this... every sentient being is selfish by nature. Why should I treat the gods differently from how they've treated me?’

‘…and what have I done to you to garner the treatment I get now?!’

‘I'm trying to help you, Meri! To see past the illusions that you so cling to!’

‘I CLING TO FAITH! Faith is hardly and illusion!’

‘Faith is the foundation of the bolstering of naive hopes and illusions.’

‘Help me? Help ME?! How is telling me to turn from my faith -any- help at all? You would whisper in my ear to turn me from my path? What happened to the man who stood by me as my own temple called me a blasphemous harlot?! There is always hope. you are too blinded by self importance to see it! What happened to you Emrys? We've walked paths together none should have to... when did we end up on opposite sides?’

‘I simply became aware of the reality of things.’

He said it with such finality. Had I failed him so? I misstep, and Billy died. Those same missed steps had cost me greatly… costing me still… The argument continued. Not really an argument… Whispered words of hate and pain and discontent, we took turns throwing thorns into the heart of the other. I no longer fought to contain my anger… It had consumed me so fully… I glared at the man across the table from me… and his eyes reflected my own anger. None who saw us would ever think that we had given up so much for each other. None would see the sacrifices we had each made for the other. None would see the friends that used to stand side by side and face the worst the realms had to offer… He spoke of reality and truth.

‘You ignorant fool. I will not turn my back on the one thing that has never abandoned me. He has never turned his back on me and left me to suffer. Not for all of your wise and enlightened words.'

‘He's made you suffer plenty of times, Meri. Or have you become blind to that as well?’

‘HE -never- made me suffer!’

‘Fine... he "guided" you to suffering.’

‘He never guided me to it, but from it. Always. I have suffered yes, and to do so is the choice -I- make. If I make that choice Ilmater is at my side, sharing that burden. Never have I suffered where I did not choose to. Either by my mistake or by want of sparing another.’

‘And why would you make such a choice?’

‘Because if someone will suffer I would rather it be me than one less deserving of it.’

‘Some people make certain choices and deserve to suffer.’

‘You would like to think so wouldn't you? Makes it easier for you to hate those that try to help!’

‘Bad things happen in this world, and if you can't endure it, then you're not cut out for it.’

‘And what of second chances? Should I have let the demon destroy you then? Perhaps I should have not helped you when Elrith and the others begged for your sake? Maybe I was a fool to have borne what you could not so that you might have a second chance?’

That I still suffered for. My helping him had cost me much, endangered much, and it was Mercy that bid me silent. For it was no longer his burden to bear. The Unbound was -in- my head… and it was by the grace of the Broken God that it had not destroyed Emrys… that it had not destroyed me… He was glaring, scathingly and shaking in his own rage. I had delivered a hard blow… and rather than pull back and leave us both to lick our wounds… I pressed on…

‘Oh... its different when you are the one at stake... who is selfish now?’

‘Yes! I'm bloody selfish! Everyone single person is! You just fail to see that!’

‘Emrys! All I have ever tried to do is help you, help others, and now you tell me I was wrong for that?’

The exchange continued as I stood by faith and he stood in that none were worthy of worship. The tavern was empty now. No longer were we whispering or sitting. We stood, the table between us, Sam looking on rather concerned.

‘What did Ilmater ever do that wronged you so? Why is it I find myself defending the one thing that has always been constant? He guides, he protects. Eases burdens where he can. Even for you. Through me if he has to.’

‘Don't let the desires of a god or any other being be the basis for your acts. Let them always originate from yourself.’

‘Says the arrogant one who lacks the courage to serve an ideal greater than himself.’

‘At least I don't willingly serve someone who abandoned those I care for... innocent children even.’

He had matched me blow for blow so far, but this… My anger frothed. I nearly threw the teacup. I felt the blood drain from my features and I seethed at him.

‘Ilmater never abandoned the children!’

‘Then he was too weak to protect them and thus does not deserve such admiration from you.’

I struck him. Slapped him rather squarely. Enough so that the sting of it ran threw my own hand.

‘How -dare- you! He protected them, protects them still! It was not Ilmater that killed them!’

‘Yes, yes. Let's all kill ourselves so that we may experience his warm embrace--’

‘He -never- has said such a thing!’

The yelling continued now. I glowered at the handprint across the side of his face, and his eyes bore daggers into my own… we stood there, throwing barbed words, our anger so complete that little else mattered. He certain as the hells that I was a tool to a cruel god, I just as sure that I was not. Neither willing to waver. I tried to explain to him that there was no preventing every ill in the world, he tried to convince me that my faith was useless… that there was nothing in the world worthy of devotion. I had stood at the feet of my god, glared down the face of aspects of Bhaal… I was no fool, and I was not surrendering my faith… and so we stood screaming at each other. And slowly… focus returned… and anger receded again.

‘Yes, the gods can have a strong impact on people much like any tyrant.’

‘Which is better to serve? A heartless tyrant, or a benevolent lord? I would rather serve in love and devotion than out of fear and secret loathing. I would rather -serve- a good ideal than be a slave to a bad one.’

He regarded me a moment and I continued.

‘Mercy find you Emrys. I pray--’

‘If Mercy finds me, I will not be its puppet.’

‘If you think Ilmater seeks puppets, perhaps you had better look closer at the faith you scorn.’

‘Oh I have, Meri. All faiths are the same at their core. The essence is the same whereas the particulars differ.’

‘You're wrong. Some gods do care for us. Even for you.’

‘People care for me... though I don't worship them.’

‘I never asked for your worship.’

‘I know you didn't.’

‘Ilmater did not help you because he sought your worship. And it was because of him that I was able to help you in the first place. All I ask is some respect. Stop trying to turn me from my faith.’

‘Stubborn as always.’

‘Some things never change old friend.’

‘Some don't, but some do. Until our next meeting.’

‘Mercy find you. Be well... In the mean time.’

He turned to go, tipping Sam, who was looking in shock at this pair who he knew to be such good friends. I sat back down warily, I was shaking all over. I didn’t trust myself to move. At the same time I dared not let us part on such a note. So I found the courage to speak, my voice strained, I was ashamed of my own temper… he hadn’t warranted my anger so… ‘Anger is destructive…’ I had known better. I had stepped from my own path.

‘Emrys…’

‘Yeah?’

He stopped but didn’t turn to me, which was good… because he couldn’t see the look on my face. I cringed at our exchange, at my own words and action. There was no mercy in what we had done to each other…

‘Sorry I slapped you.’

‘It was to be expected.’

I winced sharply. Some saint I was.

‘Doesn't make it right.’

‘If I were you, I probably would've done more than a slap. Good bye, Meri.’

‘Take care…’

And that was that. He walked away, and I sat there with cold tea. The more my mind worked over the argument, the more I hated myself for it. I prayed. Had some more tea and mulled my thoughts a long time. There was a commotion upstairs, and a flurry of activity for a moment, but it only vaguely registered. Dajala showed up, and Sam sent her upstairs to her ‘friends’ that she claimed were from Evermeet.

The argument had exhausted me. I feared to sleep, but I trusted my own emotions even less. So I made my way upstairs. Well… Seeing who Dajala was speaking with only worried me. Indeed Harker’s old friends… and Daesar. Definitely not dead. And my presence was met coldly and with suspicion. If the recognized me they didn’t say so, and I sought a fitful nap.

When I woke, they were all still there talking. The nightmares that had chased me from sleep chased me down the stairs and to a pot of tea. Siomir and Cat and some others joined me then… but I was unable to focus on much. The conversations of the day troubled me. And I grew more troubled when Dajala and the others came down. Daesar acted like he didn’t recognize me… but I saw better in his eyes… and he looked a great deal less than pleased to see me. I could only puzzle the why of it… and didn’t care that much at the point. I didn’t trust myself to carry on a conversation, and really didn’t feel like dealing with conversation anyway, so I politely made my excuses and headed back to the city.

Dajala was worried about me walking alone… I warded myself before I left Siomir and the other’s line of sight. I then made a great deal of haste back to the orphanage. I had a few moments rest, sent Juna back to the temple.

The children were sleeping peacefully, and I envied them. I didn’t have to ponder sleep for long, for there were guests. A woman who wished her tongue regenerated, a man who at first seemed a bit untrusting… and far too curious for my liking. Kliron of course. Conversations rolled about. There was teasing about the ‘queen’ and ‘goons’ and other such nonsense that I tried to pay little attention to.

I spent the rest of the evening in conversation with Selah. We exchanged thoughts. She did seem better for having a task at hand. It was good to spend some time with her. Much good came from the conversation. She will help me where she is able, and has theories about some of the demons I have been dealing with of late. She has also offered to help me with more pictures. Some other things that she can help with. Finally, I let my need for sleep take hold. We passed on womanly gossips and such for a bit longer, she helped me braid my hair, and then I sought sleep.

Restless as it was, now I look forward to the day. Perhaps today will be kinder? Maybe Tessian will be done with all his 'to dos' and errands and what not. I wish he would have told me what exactly he was up to. Mercy willing. Faith is strength, and I will hope for the best.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SIXTH ENTRY]
REMEMBERING A NIGHTMARE?

We had been running for days. Well… he ran, I was dragged. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw light… the last thing I remembered? Blood and fire. He was dead. All of it burned… gone… But not gone. My head still hurt terribly from the final conditioning… Why couldn’t I remember… To think of it only brought blinding pain.

I stumbled which brought a string of words in an unfamiliar tongue to the captor ahead of me.

‘Waele rivvil l'essnil! Zexen'uma pholor dosst talwien dos yibin lotha faern's ssindossa!’
Stupid human wench! Stay on your feet you weak little wizard's (germbag)!

I didn’t need to understand him as he dragged me blindly along. I didn’t cry, I didn’t protest. My arms, bound in lengths of rope from just above the elbow down, had long since gone numb. I didn’t feel the damp chill of the tunnels around us, and as our path carried us along, I began to fear we would never stop running. Our pace never slowed. I prayed to die running. I was so afraid. Two years a slave… I had heard stories of the Drow. The Slavers liked to tell us how much worse it could be as we rotted away under lash and command… living and breathing at a bastard noble’s command… at the hand of a Thayan… I had stepped from one hell to another… and knew the worst lay ahead… If we ever stopped running. Didn’t he ever tire?

I had lost track of time and distance, there was only darkness. A strange noise echoed down the tunnels ahead of us, though from where I could not say. We stopped. I heard him draw his blades. Instinctively I fell into quiet step, exhaustion forgotten as I was aware there was something ahead to put the dark skinned Elf on edge. I couldn’t see -anything-. The horrid sounds continued to echo about us. He shoved me to the ground, against the wall. I felt his blade at my throat and he whispered so close to my ear that I cringed from it. He spoke common now.

‘If you are not here when I get back… I will feed you to the Fuer'yonii after I hunt you back down. And you will not get far from me in this place.’

I did not need to see his face to know of the cruel smile that would be there. Without another word, he moved away from me. I fought the panic that rose in me then. It was -so- dark. For what seemed an eternity, all I could hear was the creature’s echoing screeching. There were sounds I could not identify in the suffocating darkness, and then roars, both Elven and creature… eventually all fell silent. I almost wished the beasts killed him… that they would kill me next… As swiftly as the thought formed in my mind, it was stubbornly banished.

He yanked me up with a start. We walked along… not ran. I smelled blood. He took us to a crevice along the tunnel wall… it opened into a small cavern. He blocked the entrance with stone. Finally there was light. Nearly blinding at first, I marveled at the faint glow… mushrooms? How odd… It gave my captor’s murderous eyes a menacingly surreal glimmer. He glared at me in disgust as he tended his wounds. I sat silently, numb in so many ways as he pulled some rations and a water skin from his pack.

He laughed cruelly, as I pointedly did not look at him while he ate and drank. He then threw some of the food and another water skin at me. My arms still bound as they were, I eyed the thrown bits, not really sure what to do. Stubborn defiance settled in as I looked away from food and drink, shooting him a scathing glare. He crossed the distance between us in half a blink, and stood nose to nose, close enough I could almost make out my reflection in his ember eyes.

‘Ph'dos naut nug'ri rothe? Dos zhal'la cal. L'Ilharess orn tlu nauqu'allath ka Usstan ori'gato dos el.’
Are you not hungry cattle? You should eat. The Matron will be displeased if I let you die.

I eyed him defiantly. I didn’t need to know what he was saying to know he was mocking me.

‘Usstan telanthus cal, Faern's Ssindossa!’
I said eat, Wizard's (germbag)!

He growled at me, and I spat in his face. He slapped me then. I tasted blood, and my vision blurred. I glared defiantly at him in spite of the fact that I may well have passed out. He glared back for a long moment and laughed coldly. Finally he unbound my arms, which protested horribly at the change in position. Blood rushed through them painfully.

‘Eat. And be quick about it!’

He barked in Common again, and once I could move my arms properly, I did. The food tasted strange. An odd meat, made into jerky, and something that seemed to be mushrooms of some sort. I ate slowly, knowing that eating too quickly now would make me ill, and unsure of what I was actually eating… Best not to think on it really. It was the water that gave me the greatest strength and comfort. A balm to my throat, as I felt I had swallowed burning glass.

The remainder of the trip went as such. My shows of defiance both impressed him and angered him. He promised me that my spirit would bend to the will of the Yathrin. He promised me a host of cruelties. Often most of what he said I did not understand, not sure that I cared then. It was all running and darkness until at last we reached a city.

I had never seen such a thing. A whole city built into an massive cavern. As we made our way through the city, a pecking order became apparent. I watched as, for the first time, my captor exhibited a bit of subservience to these Yathrin he spoke of. I was paraded regardless, my arms bound in front of me, dirty and ragged, barely alive, if by my own will alone.

He dragged me into a place, a home… like that of the nobles I worked for in Athkatla. After some waiting, he was summoned and I was dragged along. Into an elaborate room. There were obviously those who were slaves, there were the ones called Yathrin, which I gathered were priestesses, Several who wore similar garb and insignias, they seemed to be the royalty if you will. Men were lesser in this place, slaves least of all, even the priestesses seemed subservient to the woman who stood at the front of the chamber.

She was a regal sort. Her face was a mask of cruel control… her eyes held a hint of madness. Garbed in reds the shade of blood and gold, she stood in her finery. Atop her head a tiara of sorts with a diamond at it’s center and two rubies either side of it. It held her brilliantly white hair away from her face and out of her fire red eyes. I was shoved to the floor at her feet as my captor bowed low.

‘Ussta Ilharess, l'Faern orn naut olplynir dal dos rin'ov 'sohna.’
My Matron, the Wizard will not steal from you ever again.

She sneered cruelly at me.

‘Lu'vel'bol d'udossta yulul, ussta yulul... xunus dos ragar ol?’
And what of our prize, my prize... did you find it?

‘Nau, Ilhar, jhal Usstan muth klezn utulaia a l'faern. Ol kluthak nindol uss xal tlu d'kl'ae ulu dos. Usstan gultah nindol yulul t'sek.’
No, Mother, but I found things written by the wizard. It seems this one may be of use to you. I offer this prize instead.

He held up to her several books, that I recognized as the Master’s. His notes. I watched as she scanned them, her eyes widening as she read some thing, frowning angrily as she read others. She kicked me then, hard, and I collapsed to the floor struggling to breathe.

‘Uk mii'n ulu ser vel'bol zhah usst dal uns'aa? Uk mii'n ulu ser l'Ilharess Ilhar d'Qu'ellar Baenund dal ilta ditronw'urn k'lar?! Wael, kivvil faern, xal uk skiki cos whol ukt hawressae!’
He means to keep what is mine from me? He means to keep the Matron Mother of House Baenund from her rightful place?! Fool, Surfacer wizard, may he rot for his insolence!

She gave the writings to a priestess angrily.

‘Inbal l'Qu'ellar Faern lu'l'Yathrin alu areion nindol xa'huu lu'ragar folbol weafl. Wun l'hass'l draeval, udos orn l'amith inbauin vel'bol udos lac dal nindol kivvil… Dos inbal xunor al. Xal dos ph'naut ji kl'eril p'luin jal.’
Have the House Wizard and the Priestesses of Lolth go through this garbage and discover something useful. In the mean time, we will enjoy getting what we seek from this Surfacer… You have done well. Perhaps you are not so useless after all.

I wished I knew what was being said… they all looked at me the way a predator looks at pray. She made a few motions with her hand. Her smile became malicious as we waited for something… I dreaded what. After a time someone brought what looked to be a poker in an urn full of white hot coals. She sneered as she brought the brand from the coals. My clothes were torn away from my back, and I had but a moment to brace myself for the touch of white-hot metal on skin. My captor held me in place as she stepped around behind me.

I screamed… weak as I was from the trip, dehydrated and half starved… I fell into a whole different sort of blackness… But even then I heard her words… and I understood them.

‘Dos ph'usst. Dosst ul'nussten ph'usst. Usstan zhal jous dos folt jiv'undus nindel dos orn daewl ulu belbau uns'aa vel'bol Usstan lac. Dos -ph'- usst.’
You are mine. Your screams are mine. I shall show you such pain that you will wish to give me what I seek. You -are- mine.

‘You are Mine.’
[THE SLAVE BRANDED]

// A HUGE THANKS TO DAJALA FOR THE DRAWING //

I woke covered in sweat and shaking. I reached back to my shoulder. Was it my imagination or was it hot? I could smell my own burning flesh as my fingers ran over the puckered brand. I thought of waking Tessian. I lay back against the sweat soaked pillow and snuggled close to him for a moment. He draped his arm over my side and pulled me close. I laced my fingers in his and willed myself calm. I was shaking still. I felt weak. My mind continued to let images of my time with the Drow surface and churn in my thoughts. I did not give her enough screams as she would have wished… but she wasn’t done with me yet. She still hunted her prize.

‘You Are Mine…’

The phrase echoed through me with every ragged breath. Finally I pulled gently away from Tessian and stumbled down the steps. I nearly fell twice. I felt as if my whole body were made of weak rubber. It seemed so -real- this nightmare… Because it -was- real. It had -happened- all those years ago. And that was only the beginning… only the start of my sufferings at the hand of the Drow. Though Xun and the ones who sought to keep the power from the Matron had made it easier to bear… It was still a blur of pain. The story of it written in scars over much of my body.

I needed tea…
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SIXTH ENTRY]
WOULD YOU LIKE A CUP OF TEA?

I reached to the uppermost shelf and gathered a couple bags of chamomile tea. Nearly fell and knocked over a couple pots in the process. It was so quiet in the orphanage that it was a wonder I did not wake all the children. The air was still. Dead.

Dead? Where had such a morbid thought come from? I looked about, nothing was out of place. A bit dusty and in need of cleaning… I would remedy that in the morning. I grabbed a pot and filled it with water, lit the stove and waited. I looked about again, still shaking and on edge from the dreams that had chased me from bed. Not dreams… Memories. I touched my shoulder, it still felt -warm-. It looked normal enough. I set the teapot on the stove to boil, and I wandered to the entrance hall. Nothing out of place. I sought something… but couldn’t say what. A trembling hand grazed the books on the shelves and I peered into the children’s room.

Sleeping so soundly… How I envied them. I prayed that the worst of their nightmares lay behind them. I would keep them from such troubles if I could. They had seen enough strife. Mercy willing they would grow to fine adults. Each had their own strengths, and what might have been seen as weaknesses, were merely strengths of another sort.

My musings were interrupted by the shrill whistle of the teapot and I scurried with the grace of an umber hulk back to the kitchen. I lifted the pot, only to glance in the flames of the stove. There supplanted on one another was the face of the Matron and the face of the Thayan, one’s cruel smile mirrored the other. With a startled yelp the teapot fell from my grasp, spilling across my legs and bare feet. I didn’t even feel the heat of the boiling water… I watched a long moment as my skin reddened slightly and the water spread over the floor.

‘You are Mine, Your screams are mine…’

‘Try not to die this time… I grow tired of recalling you from death…’

My temples throbbed as I reached for the mop to clean the water.

‘Well if she won’t make a good scullery maid, she will make a pretty enough street walker.’

I was so afraid then. They inked a slaver’s brand on my arm. Threw me in a cell laughing. I had thought that there was no worse fate than those cells. And then that fat, arrogant beast of a master… The thought of him ever touching me still turned my stomach. I had traded that cruelty for the whims of a mad wizard with poisoned wine and a knife to the belly.

‘Stupid, foolish girl.’

‘You will tell the Matron what she wishes to know or we shall draw it from you one scream at a time… Don’t pass out this time…’

‘Listen, Sel'tur Kestal. You must -live-. She must not keep you. Listen to me, and you will be safe enough. You will hurt… but you will survive.’

I was not aware that I had started a second pot of water, or that it had begun to boil. I sat staring at my rippling reflection in the sheen of water on the floor, watching my own face as thoughts ran through my mind. I only became aware of where I was and such when Juna pulled the shrieking pot from the stove.

'Sister Meri... You are as quiet as a frightened horse in a glass barn.'

I jumped. As she took the mop from my hand, and made quick work of the last of the water, murmured an apology and plopped the teabags in the pot.

‘Are you alright dear?’

‘Just … bad dreams again Juna.’

The dear old woman frowned at me. We sat and chatted as the tea steeped. She sought cheery subjects. Asked about our trip, updated me on the children and things while I was away. The conversation continued as I poured a cup of tea.

‘Would you like a cup of tea, Juna dear?’

‘No thank you, Meri. You know how that stuff keeps me awake. Dawn is still a few hours away. We should both try to go back to sleep.’

I nodded and drained the cup hoping it would calm me. It was unbearably warm as I sipped at the second cup and tried to focus on the conversation… Now I can’t even remember what we were talking about. Had I been paying attention I would have noticed the odd taste to the tea. Faint… and not blamed it on unsettlingly real dreams. I -still- smelt burning flesh. The last coherent thing I remembered was looking into my teacup and seeing Xun’s face wreathed in flames.

‘Remain strong, do not break!’

He had screamed it over and over as he died, and the Matron and her daughter had laughed. And there it was, that he died again… my thoughts reflected in my tea. I drained the cup, wishing to be calmed by the warm liquid, and rid myself of the image…

Instead the room whirled and I felt a sharp pain…

Juna said I called to her then, just before my heart stopped and I fell from my chair. Fortunately for me she was there. By the grace of Mercy, she was able to call the prayers that quelled the poison and revived me, lest death might have kept the Saint. She said I had spoke sluggishly about not giving her what she wanted. Though her questions of who wanted what went unanswered as my own mind sought clarity.

I sniffed the pot of tea now, and tasted it… paying attention this time revealed something amiss. I went back to the shelves and inspected the tea. The fine layer of dust over the teabags… was not normal dust. I shook it loose from the teabag, gathered what remained in the box and on the shelf into a small pouch. It took some time and research to identify, but Sister Rachel, being well versed in many poisons, was able to help me trace it down. By the time the sun had risen, I was writing a letter to Jonas.

What troubled me most about it was the fact that… well it didn’t make sense really. Had I been paying attention, I would have noticed it, and the attempt failed. Had I paid attention, I never would have drank so much tea, and been spared the near death. Had I not been distracted, I would not have been drinking tea so quickly. Perhaps most troublesome of all was the fact that I couldn’t say who would have done so.

It obviously wasn’t meant to kill me. There are far more effective and readily available poisons about. Besides, how often am I not able to deal with a poison? And how often am I away from some who can deal with it as well? Even if it did manage to fell me, I would not have remained at the gates of the Dead City. Unless it was meant as a warning or a threat. Just to prove it could be done, frighten me? All they had managed was to anger me as I threw away all my tea, and irritate me that they had come into this place… for the children, more my home than any place had ever been, and poisoned my -tea-. What an utterly terrible thing to do… and with a stronger poison… utterly possible that I would have died. That only served to anger me further.

Who though? Not Bhaal’s Shadow. Not his sort of game. Certainly not Thayan or Drow. I had not angered anyone else of late. I would puzzle this, and a host of other things as breakfast preparation wore on. I sent Juna back to the temple… under orders to inspect the rest of our food supplies and throw out the tea there as well. I told her to inform Brother Marcus and the others of the temple what had happened. As the day wore on, and duty continued… my disturbing thoughts battled with the fact that I was out of tea.

I thanked the Mercies great and small, that no one else had had any tea in the time since my return. I then thanked all that was Mercy that I had a pot’s worth in my pack from our trip. I shared that with Brother Rente, who had recently returned, and we sought to catch each other up. After that, I sought to resume some semblance of order to things. Threw myself into my daily duties and refused to give my distressing thoughts any further ground.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SIXTH ENTRY]
MASKS AND WHISPERS

I didn’t hardly sleep last night. Tessian tried to stay up with me, and bless him, Ilmater for every comfort he offers so freely. The dawn would come slowly, and at last we would surrender to sleep, but for me it would not last. Images of the past would come in torrents. The good mixed with the bad in a dizzying array.

Underneath it all? -He- laughs, gleefully at my sufferings, mockingly at my joys. Riddles and half formed thoughts mixed with vague impressions, smells and sounds, until at last I woke and pushed the laughter from my thoughts. My head ached horribly. Rather than watch the shadows battle with the light from my halo, I dressed and made my way to the temple before morning. I spent much of the day in prayer and meditation.

There was renewal in that, and by the time that I returned to the orphanage, I was in better spirits, and a little more focused. Tessian was busy helping at the temple, and I found myself in the company of my own thoughts as the children readied for bed, so I went to the re-opening of the theater. Fashionably late of course, but no one seemed to mind. It was a flurry of activity as many had not seen us since we had left.

In truth it was difficult to take in all the people and greetings… the conversations. It could have been another masquerade for all the whirl and conversation. The place was done up in grand finery. Patterns of gold and periwinkle. Purples and yellows to remind me of a Iris in full bloom. It was well lighted, and as such I dimmed my halo for the extent of the tour.

I was vaguely aware at first that, one: I was too out of sorts to be there… two: Something was wrong with Dajala. She was leaning heavily on Ivaris, and Ivaris looked rather worried. I made note of other familiar faces, made polite greetings and pleasantries. It was a grand enough occasion, and while outside I smiled at all the right moments and nodded when expected… I felt out of place. A dull copper in a palace of golden coins. My thoughts were sullen, and try as I might, I could not push away dreary thoughts.

There were polite formalities, informal greetings among friends, and in the flourish of thought and reality, memory and present environment, a slip of paper was pressed into my hand. A discreet glance down and I tucked it into a hidden pocket.

"Beware of the Purple Dragon."

I glanced about the room idly as my mind wandered. Selis called attention to begin the tour. The mystery of the note would have to wait, though of all the faces there… only one I might worry, but there wasn’t time to worry over it for now. I found myself having trouble enough concentrating, so I focused on her words. She laid out the basic guidelines and we began. It started with a doorbell to the back stage area, and portions meant for the performer’s guild. Gone was the quaint shrine to the arts, and in its place, a palace befitting royalty.

‘We have all new flooring, as well as plush sofas and comfortable benches. New décor was purchased and donated; the statues are all of deities whom are considered patrons to bards. If you have not already done so, please read the plaque here at center stage that explains a little history of the theater.’

We moved to the stage where she showcased a door chime... Which echoed ceremoniously throughout the theater. And then she opened the back stage door.

‘As you can see, when I open this door, 'tis dark behind me. This foyer is affectionately dubbed "The Void" since it is solid black.’

I looked into the foreboding darkness and felt my whole being pause. Days of being dragged through the darkness… The memory danced across the fringes of conscious thought. Still as the crowd moved forward, I found my own feet shuffling ahead. -Dragged- Came the unbidden thought. I was quick to shake it off by focusing on Dajala. She really was not well at all. In fact she seemed to be suffering from an open wound. And then I saw her cough up blood.

‘Dajala... are you alright?’

Even as I whispered the question, I knew the answer. Distracted or not, there are some things one cannot hide from a healer. I passed a potent restorative to her. Magically imbued to heal inside and out. I urged her to at least sip from the vial. Place a few drops on her tongue and watched as she slowly eased. Her breathing leveled and color returned to her features. The tour went on. We moved on to the props room, a fine workshop to make the gnomes of Lantan green with envy. She showcased the accouterments of her trade with pride in grand fashion befitting a Bardess of her station. Indeed she had much to be proud of. The place was hardly the same as it was before… perhaps it was not. A phoenix from the ashes indeed.

Then we began the tour of the private quarters. Each room presented in opulent splendor, personalized for each individual occupant. I glanced from the doorways at the rooms. It is not my custom to enter another’s bedchambers, bidden or otherwise, if it is a mans especially. A casual glance, and the ohs and ahs of the others, were enough to convey the grandness in which each room was presented. A parade of notoriety. Each as unique as the one that came before, and if possible… each more extravagant than the last. None however outshined the grand room of Selis herself. I was pleased to see the embroidered pillow I had made her, upon her bed. Most of the tour, from that point on was spent in wide-eyed awe, or inward distraction.

The guards quarters and guest rooms reminded me of the finer inns in Athkatla. The ones reserved for the merchants and lower nobles. Indeed, she could charge nightly rates for the elegant suites, to fund grand performances at the theater. There were fine dressing rooms lined with enough cursed mirrors to make me shudder. And lavish baths fit for performer and grandeur guests alike.

A grand prop storage in the attic, and finally we stepped into the lounge and dinning area. It was utterly astounding. I wondered if the Dukes would be envious? But that was hardly the crown jewel of the tour. For through one last door we stepped into a glimmering room housing a steaming hot tub… but the glimmer was only that of the lights reflecting off the water of the large swimming pool. Siomir teasingly asked if I had been practicing my swimming… which I hadn’t actually had time to do.

We then made our way back to the lounge for a dinner befit kings and queens. A five course meal that I was hard pressed to finish. The food was delicious indeed, Solus is a grand cook… and with the kitchen he had available to him, he had plenty of canvas with which to work his art from. The kitchen was the largest I have -ever- seen in all my years. It had absolutely everything… including a chilled, and fully stocked larder. At least, they had tea. And it was grand tea, considering it was my first cup of tea in nearly two days. As wonderful as the food was perhaps I should not have tried to politely finish my meal… since I think that was enough food to last me a week. They very well could have fed an army. He had made extra because he wasn’t sure how many would attend. It was almost dismaying to see double the amount of food needed, and I prayed it would not go to waste.

Though I was hardly a mistress of conversation, it was still a grand evening. I listened politely to the others chat. Selis played a grand song, there were toasts in honor of the theater, though I could not bring myself to drink the wine… Waterdhavian Red… Too many recent memories with such a vintage… At least she had a place she could be proud of… A grand thing indeed. An image of the dear woman who runs it.

Finally, I meant to make my way back to the orphanage. Dajala gave me a look practically begging me not to go alone, and Selis offered to send one of her hired guards along. So I made my rounds among those that were remaining, saying my good byes. Dajala stood and took me into a hug. I whispered to her reassuringly:

‘Dajala.... I will be watchful.’

Her reply left me unsettled and pondering much as I turned to go:

‘You are our last best hope Meri, make sure you make it home...we need to speak… soon.'

Even on the short trip through the city I traveled warded and wary of shadow. Last best hope for what, I could not help but wonder as I collapsed exhausted next to my sleeping husband. Even in his rest he drew me protectively close… and it was there… in the comfort of my most precious Mercy… that I hid… and at last… I slept.
~~

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[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SIXTH ENTRY]
FOREBODING AND FORWARNING

This day has been… complicated. Well it didn’t start complicated. I woke rested enough, especially compared to most days. Tessian had risen ahead of me and tended breakfast, before heading to the temple to help the Sisters. I saw to the children’s lessons, and to my duties at the temple before coming back to take care of the cleaning at the orphanage.

Nerbert stopped by for a bit, and was deeply troubled. It seems Eleanor, who lives at the docks with her son, Peter, had fallen into some sort of trouble that has left Peter orphaned. It deeply troubles Nerbert, and for some reason, he blames himself for not being swift enough to save her. Either way, I have assured him that Peter is more than welcome among us at the orphanage. Sad truly. I often took food and such to them. I know that their lives haven’t been easy… I hope the mystery surrounding her death can be brought to light, and those responsible dealt with under the law.

Joan stopped by for a bit, and by all that is Mercy, she had tea. Well after the children had supper and made their way to bed, I found myself in good company. Selah was there, Siomir, Rith, Firavain, and later Dajala and Ivaris. I told Joan, and the others of the attempted poisoning, and we theorized and planned and plotted for a time. Some of the conversation was pleasant… some of it was not. There were jokes and jabs in good natured fun, and there was talk on how to deal with present problems.

However, it was evident Dajala needed to speak, but would not in front of the others, so I ushered her up the steps where we regarded each other for a long quiet moment. She said she had much to speak of. She almost seemed excited. Excited at new knowledge… and terrified. As I asked about her wound from the night before, she pulled from her pack a cloth wrapped bundle. She opened it and held it out to me.

It is strange how the past finds its way back to us… how it always does… no matter how far we run… It Does. I stared at the House insignia in her hand. And when she turned it over, to the name inscribed there… my whole world paused so that I may take in the weight of it.

HOUSE BAENUND

// ANOTHER DAJALA GREAT, THANK YOU! //

Izzinidia'drin Baenund. Youngest of the Matron’s sons, during my time there… and likely the most cruel. The glimmer of that finely crafted trinket in the light of the room brought back memories of moments best left forgotten. The way it had glimmered in the light of white hot coals… The way water had fallen away from it while I looked up, in either case at his twisted face, and prayed.

‘That demon tongued abomination may have convinced the Matron of your uses… but I remain unconvinced. The only useful thing I want from you is your pain. We’ve a long trip too… You’ll not have your -protectors-.’

He sneered at me as I looked at him wide eyed. By now my mind grasped the Drow tongue, and the slave’s tongue as easily as I had spoken them all my days. Xun and the others had been so careful… how would he know anything? He laughed.

‘You truly think a slave such as you can creep in the shadows of this place well enough to stay hidden from -me-? I -am- the shadows of this place.’

I tensed as he disappeared from sight. Another of his games. I waited for his blade to find me. Eyes closed and I listened. My eyes and ears would not spare me the fatal cut… even if now I was more adept at mending them. Be swift… but wait. I stood still. It seemed ages. My breathing slowed. Jasmine… and the faint hint of laughter. Hope. Then the laughter stopped… time slowed. I felt the blade tear the fabric at my back, felt the cold metal against my skin, and I moved. Barely a scratch… but now he was mad. I heard him unleash a string of curses as I moved away from his blade. With a yelp of surprise a second blade found my side. He had never used two blades before… In the moment of unfocused surprise, the first blade cut, just above the navel and clear to the breastbone. He stood over me, self satisfied in his hollow victory, and threw bandages at my feet. He laughed as he flicked blood from the blades, sheathing them in one fluid motion. He turned and called over his shoulder.

‘Learning to survive won’t save you. But if you manage to put yourself back together before you bleed to death, perhaps you can warn the abomination before I tell the Matron. We leave in two days.’

To this day I don’t recall mending the wounds enough to stumble to the place I had hidden away the healing tonics. By the time I had sought Xun, he already knew. As did the Matron Mother. He would be dead by the end of the next cycle… and that moment would set things in motion that would lead to my freedom. And that freedom would lead me…

… I nearly dropped the insignia in my hand as I looked at Dajala and stammered.

‘Where did you... how did ... gods above you saw him alive?!’

Her words barely registered in my mind.

‘His wards almost killed me. Don’t worry, He is dead. I was inside his mind when he was cut in half. That wound you healed me of yesterday? It was an echo of the one that killed him.’

I blinked at her, not making sense of what she was saying.

‘What? wait... when did he die? How?’

I stared at the amulet, my fear and worry evident. She continued, and pulled a sketch from a book.

‘This man, his brother, gave the order. He killed him.’

But the face on the sketch was no Baenund. It was a face I knew well enough. It was calming to think that it was his blade that left Izzin in two pieces. Or at least one less alive piece. I remembered our last meeting. The Little Shadow and I...

‘Oh! Priestess. I’ve a gift for you.’

His eyes glinted beneath his hood as he held up a scrap of blood red fabric. A trophy. The eldest son of Baenund and his consort… dead. Pleased as I was by this, and as happy as he was… He was… kind enough to spare me most of the details, saying only that it had been gruesomely befitting and that he had much enjoyed the sport.

Seemed he had inadvertently laid another such gift at my feet. Yes. A measure of comfort indeed. Thank you Little Shadow.

‘Meri, He’s Dead. They are all dead. The whole network.’

Firavain’s words haunted me. We were blind… Was he really dead? Dared I hope he was still down there watching our enemies? Or was Izzin killed before he had fallen? How I prayed that Firavain was wrong… that he was not actually dead.

‘Stay safe… Little Shadow…’

He had turned away from me, gleefully promising death to the ‘Spider-kissing witches’ and bid me caution. He was skilled. Dare I hope, if he was skilled enough to fell the First and Last of her precious sons, that he lived somewhere.

I forced myself to focus back on Dajala. I forced the torrent of memories away.

‘You are sure he is dead?’

She nodded and put drawing and insignia away.

‘Relax Meri. I have so much more to tell you.’

I almost laughed. Relax? Truly?! Mercy forgive me, sometimes I couldn't stand wizards. All about the knowledge and the power. The questions and the answers, no real accounting for the implication or emotion.

‘You know, people in the Underdark. You spent time there?’

Wordlessly I studied her a long time before I moved aside my robes and showed her the brand there. She looked at me with wide eyes and then compassion.

‘You could say that. I spent four years there.’

My tone was bitter as I resettled my robes.

‘Slave brand… You poor dear. How did you-- Firavain got you out? Did Ian help as well?’

‘Not then no. Not Firavain... and not Ian... the Matron's middle sons and a few other Drow. Firavain and Ian had been keeping me from the Matron since I was rediscovered. Firavain has always kept me ahead of the slave trackers.’

‘Then you know the killer?’

There was a long silence, what few secrets I did have, I would keep. For now. My mind was a blur of memory and fragmented thought. Finally her words broke through my distracted haze. Did I know him? The real question is, what do you think you know hmm?

‘Meri, I have translated what I think is a prophecy, and some star charts. If the prophecy is correct, you have to act soon. I will read you what I have translated after, when it is more quiet. It is about you, and the star charts tell of--’

‘About me?’

'Yes I am sure of it. the planets are aligning , the planes ...are coming to together , Firavain knows...he gave me this book. Be careful Meri, I am being fallowed by the Shevarashans, they are looking for what the Drow are looking for.'

‘Wait why do they seek it?’

‘They do not know what they seek, only that the Drow are seeking something or someone. You are the key to the artifact aren’t you? ...if they know you are the key...they will kill you, to keep the Drow from it. I have been lying to them, the black cloaks.’

I sighed as she spoke swiftly. While she had some things right, there was much she didn’t understand. Much that there wasn’t time or the means to explain.

‘It has to be destroyed...and as fast as possible.’

Well at least she got that right. We would go downstairs again for now. The rest of this conversation would have to wait a bit. We went back downstairs, and I tried to concentrate on what was being said, but in truth, if I did or if I participated… I don’t remember. I think we further discussed the poison. At this point my mind was spinning so fast… it was making my stomach unsettled… and the closest ginger tea was at Candlekeep… No way I was walking that far in the middle of the night. Not now… not with so many shadows…

Eventually many of them left, and I motioned to Firavain and Dajala. The three of us stood there, and at first, neither of them were making much sense in a manner that I could follow. And this was the easy part. Firavain looked at the two of us.

‘Is this the poisons thing?’

‘No she mentioned something she wished to speak with both of us about.’

I nodded from Firavain to Dajala. The two began speaking... and I tried to follow... but, well, to say it was difficult would have been grossly understated. After much back and forth between them, and several changes of topic and directions… I spoke. I looked between them, a little frazzled at least, and waited for one of them to start making sense. Dajala said something about laughing as I tried to gain some sense from Firavain.

‘What are you two on about prophecy and cloaks and who is outside and doing what to who and why, and how is any of the said blanks amusing?’

She said she would start with this ‘prophecy’ and move on from there. Firavain nodded and listened, as did I. Though she opened with an odd statement.

‘Forgive me if the translation sounds like I am invading your thoughts. This was not my intention. I did not write this. It is only a partial translation, and some parts are missing. It really doesn’t translate well into common.

…Been given ten years and twenty four hours ...to tie up lose ends. …’

I felt a cold dread form deep in the pit of my being as she spoke. There was something so very familiar to the words she was speaking… and yet I couldn’t place it. I was barely aware of Firavain or even of her. So much of my thought was spinning around the words that she spoke. They struck some distant cord… but even now… I could not place them but they were known to me somehow. And then the metered words stopped… and I focused again.

‘To tell you the rest, the prophecy warns me not to because it could alter the final outcome ...the prophecy splits here into two...at this moment ...when this time comes.‘

‘Where... did you get those words?’

‘Just copied them from something that hack Verncraft wrote.’

‘Who?’

‘You know Verncraft, "Upon the Merger of the planes".’

I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. She looked at Firavain panicked.

'Don’t tell her! She may try and translate it.’

‘I… what?’

‘Not the other part of the translation.’

Firavain looked nearly as confused as I did. Dajala… in a fashion I had come to expect, forged ahead.

‘What took me so long… What I did not understand at first… Inside the translation were random words referring to numbers. At first T though it was to confuse me, and then I started to copy the numbers down. It made a chart. A star chart, dates, times, things in your life, when they happened. From ten years ago till now... or so it seems. This man could see the future. I feel uncomfortable… now we wait for you to do what you need to do.’

‘Wait ... -my- life? ... -my- future?’

I looked to Firavain worriedly. I blinked at Dajala, both shifted and seemed afraid to meet my questioning gaze. What did they know that I was too frazzled to grasp? Why did it all seem so… familiar? How could that which is familiar feel so wrong at the same time… Missing pieces. It was like piecing together a temple mosaic with only half the tiles, and still trying to have a finished depiction. The whole picture? The depth of the web? Was lost on me now.

‘Where did you find the words? What language?’

My tone must have sounded harsh because he was quick to reassure me.

‘I F-found it in the Library... I just found it I swear…’

‘What library?’

‘When I was researching Jhaalza’lyrm the Ravenous. Candlekeep. This Verncraft wrote about summoning and binding rather a lot. His principals are all wrong of course. But he kept writing.’

‘Lord of Murder's pet balor... and you came across a book that had stuff in it that she swears is about me? and this is all …?’

'No, no, Verncraft dealt with Devils.'

I looked even more confused… though how that may have been possible was beyond me.

‘I was exploring.. some... well other avenues of getting rid of him. Look I needed weapons alright, and who do you turn to for weapons against demons?’

‘And why do the supposed ramblings of a man I have never meant have anything to do with me…?’

‘Because he mentions two things that never made sense to me before I met you. He obsessed in later life over the end of the world, you know, crazy stuff. But he mentioned a "Soule Keep device". And a "Soul Keeper". He disappeared in Thay.’

I blinked as bits and pieces fell into more bits and pieces… and started to fit together. Dajala cringed at the mention of Soulkeep again… and to my surprise Firavain’s nose began to bleed.

‘What in the name of Mercy is going on?!’

I worriedly looked them over, instinctively reaching for healing supplies.

‘Meri... what... are you doing?’

‘Yes a good question…’

Dajala looked unwell now as I glanced her way.

‘I'm worrying about whether or not you are ill at present and confused as I have ever been in my-- wait what do you mean what am I doing?’

‘We are both well, and wondering, yes, what will you be doing.’

Both well? I didn’t believe that any more than I believed the Shadow of Murder and I could sit down for a pleasant chat about religion and children. She supplied the question about what I -will- be doing so matter of factly… I struggled to focus.

‘What I will be--’

Firavain yelped in pain and clutched his head. They both continued to assure me they were fine as he could no longer stand, and blood fell from noses and eyes. Dajala collapsed to the floor coughing up blood and I called the prayers I could think of… I watched as my efforts were for naught. I struggled to make sense of things. Suddenly I realized the problem -was- me… Not me but -him-. He lurked there, barely held in check. His mirth at the suffering he witnessed. I pushed him back. I drew my focus from the others so that he could not feed into it. I drew into my mind, that field of daisies. Pushed away -his- laughter, and let the laughter of children take its place. I closed my eyes. My breathing slowed. The connection broke… and slowly… they recovered. No one spoke for a long moment. Slowly I opened my eyes and regarded them both warily, but not directly. Then Firavain and I both spoke at the same time.

‘Look, it… may sound insane…’

‘... I would still like to know what you are both going on about... and... I am sorry…’

We blinked at each other.

‘But?’

‘But... what if the... device isn't an amulet. I mean... I was talking to Daja... you know ideas and such... she's... a lot brighter than I am. I had a thought--’

‘Well what else would it be... the Ma- the wizard hid... an amulet...?’

Didn’t he? He hid an amulet. He said so. He toyed with an amulet. He hid it. He asked me so many times to bring it back to him from that hellish place. Where the Ice burned and the Fire chilled to the bone… I was to get it and bring it back. And suddenly I couldn’t remember what -it- was. I couldn’t clearly remember any of it.

‘No Meri... He -hid you-. Hid your memories and -Warded you-. Why did the Matron Baenund keep you? And not -him-. Drow do not make mistakes Meri. Not like that…’

‘He- Hid me to keep the amulet hidden... because... Because…’

‘Then why aren’t they looking for it? Because... they're not Meri.’

‘I ... she though I knew... Something. That is why.’

‘They're -all- looking for -you- .’

‘But how could... I mean... it was made centuries before I was even born... the Matron said so... so did the Ma--the Wizard. That isn’t even possible. What you are saying doesn’t make sense.’

‘Meri... you... can do things... I mean that demon... An'grath. You've... you know... In your head. Emrys can't even bind him to a circle, and he's a gods-damned warlock! That’s... not natural.’

I looked at him in confused disbelief. I ran through my mind every prayer I could think of. Logic fought with possibility… faith with probability. I could hear -him- laughing at me. I pushed the laughter away and tried to think things through slowly. Stop the spinning in my mind. Surely I thought I would pass out, I was so dizzy. Gods I wanted tea… Mercy of all Mercies…

‘I didn’t-- but…’

But -he was- there.

‘Think about it... how did you do it?’

‘Heavens help us Merielle.’

‘I didn’t. He said... he would force his way in... and I didn't…’

‘You didn't what? What did you do?’

‘All I did was help with the exorcism... I didn't let it in there. All I did was force the servant from possessing Emrys further. Brother Marcus did most of it, and I just helped. But that was months ago. Months! I was barely strong enough for such a thing... A mere healer. I only helped brother Marcus... at the temple. It went… something went wrong. It attacked… and it wasn’t until I was alone that I knew it wasn’t gone.’

‘And you've had it in your head for all this time? Bound like an infant... with barely a complaint? That's not simply incredible. that's bloody impossible.’

‘No. Not-- not -him-... I didn't think... It wasn‘t the greater one. Not the Unbound. No it was the other one... the servant not the master.’

‘Are you sure?’

I blinked at him, and my mind ran over every moment since the exorcism.

‘... I've never been sure... I wasn't even sure I was possessed after that. I thought maybe it was nightmares. My own doubt. Or that I held the servant. Aznik? Was that it’s name? It seemed to come and go. Nothing was ever very clear. It would take form of an old man… taunt me, disappear. Or I would hear things… have bad dreams… Always I sought my faith and pushed it away. Then… it seemed to disappear. I thought it was gone. I saw nothing of... the Unbound... until we went looking for you... When Harker let you get taken?’

‘I remember.’

‘…and Din... said he saw it there, him… the Unbound. -There- not … not in my mind.’

‘I miss Din.’

I winced. ’Be Safe Little Shadow…’

‘So you see, he couldn’t have been. It couldn't have been ... well it couldn't have been in my head all that time. But I never let it ... I haven't let it in.‘

Nothing in…
Nothing out.
Shut.
The door stays Shut.
No one finds it.
No one.
Hidden.
Where it can’t do harm.
Away.
No one can use it.
Nothing in.
Nothing out...
Shut.
The Servant is the map,
the Servant is the key
that opens the door.
The Obsidian door to Eternity.
Hidden in a place of Fire and of Ice,
where Death will meet you at least Twice…

What comes next? Why couldn’t I remember… -what- the wizard -had- done.

‘You will do well enough, if you can manage not to die readily enough.’

‘…Do not question me girl, mind your conditioning. Pay attention lest it kills you. I grow tired of having you brought back from the dead. Perhaps you would serve best in your death?’

He sized me up with that look of madness. He withdrew his skeletal hand from the glove, and I ran. Never away. There was no away. Through trial by heat or cold, but never away. Conditioned. Riddles and puzzles, heat and cold, and hunger. And then what? Something… Just before he died. My head ached horribly. What had he done? For two days I waited for him to call for more conditioning. And on the third? He was slain.

‘Why can’t I remember?’

‘Meri... I don't know what else to say…’

‘So how could it get there? When?’

‘I don't know! Alright…’

‘... it said to let it out... I thought it meant out of the circle... but that was a dream. That day at the lighthouse… it… and... it said 'then I will force my way -in-. In where?’

‘I'm just guessing based on some pretty wild theories. But Daja's right…We're out of time.'

‘Out of time for what?! I don't even understand what in the name of all that is Mercy is going on!’

I shouldn’t have screamed at him. I did. And even as he stepped a half pace back, I felt terrible. I was confused. I struggled for focus.

‘Whatever is in your head is going to kill us.’

‘-If- we wait, there will never be another chance for you to do what needs to be done--’

‘Wait to do what? To destroy it? Do we even know what -it- is anymore?’

‘We will both die from the inside out. Like the wound from the other night?’

‘How can something in my head kill people? Much less people I care about? Mercies! Do you know what you are saying? I would never… I couldn’t…’

‘Look, I don't really understand all this perfectly alright!’

‘What in the name of Mercy and all he weeps upon did that thrice damned wizard do?’

‘Meri...‘

I had clamped my hand over my mouth. I was terrified. What they were saying, what they suggested. Mercy of Ilmater grant me the strength. I had sworn to keep that foul thing from those who would use it for ill. No matter the cost… Once again I found myself weighing my oaths… and Once again I knew I would do as needs must. I just wish I knew what that was exactly. And finally I lowered my hand from my mouth.

‘I'm sorry...‘

There was a long pause, and I filled it with prayers. All the praying in the world didn’t prepare me for what he said next.

‘I think he made you into the device. I think -you- are the Soulkeep.'

Another long silence.

‘We are here to aid you Meri.’

I blinked at them.

‘I think you've been it this whole time, I don't know if you buried the memories on your own... or he did it… But nothing else makes sense…’

‘He made me forget. He took the pages.’

‘There is a reason you can’t die.’

I blinked at her. Firavain nods.

‘No... My -faith- is my strength. I -have- died. Ilmater has sent me back. I don’t know about the rest of it… but my Faith is -always- my strength. Not some-- some blasphemous affront to humanity!’

‘It makes sense. It -fits-.’

‘He hid it... and told me where to find it... how... and taught me to survive getting it... And-- It just… well it can’t-- It can't be possible.’

‘He needed a Vessel. No soul gem can hold more than one soul. He needed a person.’

‘It just ... how would he even... ?’

‘Think Meri...all the conditioning, all the tests--’

‘To survive the place he hid it... “In a place of fire and ice where death will me you at least twice…” To fetch it for him like a good little -slave-. Not to… Mercy of Ilmater…’

‘Meri, he made you as you are, so you would be long lived, and resilient.’

‘He did -not- make me! He may have changed me, ut if that's true then…’

‘Then the problem is suddenly very, much, more, serious.’

The Silly Elf suddenly had a knack for stating the obvious. I prayed. So long as there is hope. There is a means, there is a way. I would see this finished. Once and for all… somehow, Mercy willing… This too, I would endure unfalteringly. But there were questions begging answers… and pieces still missing.

‘How could anything else have been possible… I mean... all my time away from the Drow... I learned and changed and grew and... how... if he did that then why was the Matron searching for something in my mind. Why all the stuff about an amulet?’

‘They are -all- after you. Who knows what the amulet is... but the only common thread is -you-.’

‘Amulets has a lot of meanings in different tongues.’

‘Trust Daja to think of something.’

‘Amulets, temples …the body.’

Weary and practically drowning in thoughts, we each looked at the other exhausted. Dajala spoke of leading people away, and her words hardly registered. Firavain would not make it so far, but ended up falling asleep in a chair downstairs.

For the longest time I prayed. The only pattern that could be found of my thoughts, was that they did not stay in one place for long. Confusion, fear, anger, stubborn hope. My mind moved from one thought to the next so quickly that it was hard to come up with any sort of answer to much. With great effort I stilled my mind. How long I sat there, eyes closed in that field of daisies, I could not say. How many prayers did I pray then? Mercy knows. Always, had Ilmater guided me, and always had he kept me strong. I prayed.

When I did finally open my eyes… I saw Tessian sitting there, his hand in mine, and we smiled. He held me close as I prayed for his sake. I prayed for all of them. Never had I been so thankful for anyone, as I was for Tessian then. My most precious Mercy. Ilmater be with us all… grant us the strength of faith that we may endure.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SEVENTH ENTRY]

I have spent much time in prayer these past days. I listen closely as he speaks. His voice an ever gentle whisper through my troubled thoughts. His hand at my back as I stand, his arms that offer comfort as I weep at his feet. For all the comfort my lord offers me, none so great as the knowledge that I have never walked my path alone… even though I step in seeming solitude.

I have always been taught to embrace -all- that is Mercy. The great Mercies; love, truth, forgiveness, healing in all forms. The small Mercies; kindness, laughter, gentle words, any aspect of life that offers comfort and compassion in any measure. So many things that work hand in hand with the Crying Lord to ease the ills of the world.

I am, and always have been, blessed beyond measure by those who would call me friend. Of all the mercies, great or small… that is the most important one. It is through friendship that the true light of Mercy shines brightest. It is in such that even I may find renewal. If my faith is my strength, then those dear to me are surely my hope. It is more than that though. They offer more than hope, but strength of a different kind. They mean so much… it is difficult to put into words. Blessed beyond measure, by each one who crosses my own path and chooses to walk with me for a time. I am grateful for it in a way that cannot be measured. I only hope that my actions do justice to them each. I pray to be able to return to them what they have gifted me.

My most precious mercy, dearest of all to my heart… How I wish I could offer him more than what I have given. Nothing I have to offer could ever compare to what he has lain at the steps of my heart. He mends what no other could. There are even fewer words for how he blesses me, than for my dear friends. The depth, and reach of his love and kindness leaves me at a loss, astounded that he finds me worthy of all he is. Amazed that he takes all I am in whole, without question or complaint. He can banish the darkness in my thoughts with but a look, and shatter my doubts with the slightest gesture of love and kindness.

I marvel, and offer grateful prayers for each moment, be they the briefest moments holding hands, or the longest of a gentle night. To know that no matter what nightmare settles in my thoughts as I sleep, he shall be there when I wake. When his attentions do not offer me a reprieve from the nightmares that plague my rest, he is there in constant comfort. It makes facing such things easier. He is a light all his own, and in his presence, the shadows fall silent. Shadows pass.

Yes. And though our path is crowded with shadows now, hope and faith guide us, love keeps us, friendship keeps us… and we will endure this. While it may not make the path less difficult, it does make it bearable knowing I do not walk alone, and that we will see the end of it. I will not say that I am impervious to moments of weakness. There are moments I want for peace or solitude. Moments I wish some burdens were not mine to bear. I know in my heart though, that it is for the better that I stand lest another has to suffer it, or worse, because I would not.

There are moments I am afraid. Utterly terrified. Sometimes the world seems so overwhelming and out of control, that I fear I may go mad. There are moments when doubt finds me. The gentle encouragement of Ilmater, the kindness of those dear are always quick to dispel such from my thoughts. I am afraid… more than anything… of what my path will cost the others. What wouldn’t I give to see them safe, to see them spared whatever is to come? The truth is I would give all that was mine to give, without question. That may well be my biggest fear. That I may be demanded such… and there is a part of me that wishes to avoid it. To keep what I am able. That is perhaps a side effect of my own mortality, my humanity. Emrys is right: Everyone and everything is selfish to a point. Even me. To say otherwise would be a lie. Even knowing that… I will still do as needs must, for the sake of all of them, even if it costs me more than I would wish it. I pray that Mercy’s Hand remain at my back, that I am strong enough to do as I must.

Bless them all Ilmater… each and every one willing to call me friend. Those who have offered help, kindness and even tea lately. They honor me greatly with their friendship. More than they realize. How many times would I have failed or fallen if not for the others? They are often quick to give me credit, something unearned. It is they, as much as I, who have carried these burdens. I may carry my own weights, but they are willing to carry me, if ever I asked them. They would not even hesitate. To have that kind of respect… I feel so undeserved of such. Who am I to garner such? A healer, and not even a great one. A broken restored, title laden, magnet for trouble? A woman. A woman who has carried many titles and names in her years… perhaps though the one most undeserved of all… more so than the divine light of Ilmater that shines through me… Friend. Dear Sister. Beloved Wife. How humbling it is to be called as such.

It is the small kindnesses that I have reflected on. Even Kal’s kindness meant more to me than she probably imagines. Her mother hen attitude. While I am far too stubborn for my own good, and not one to ask for help, its nice to know that even she is willing to help. I truly pray that circumstances are kinder to her. I know not all are worthy of a second glance… or even the smallest of Mercies. But that is the point. Mercy to the least deserved means I offer that second glance, when others may be unwilling. I only wish they could see past their own prejudices… because for once… one seems worthy of a bit more than a passing glance. It is said that you reap what you sow. Which is true. It is illustrated in the exchanges she and I have. Only this day it was she that offered me a measure of comfort and I who accepted.

Yes today was a day of small mercies, and I accepted them humbly. Perhaps the most humbling was the moment when mercy became a lesson… and it was a lesson I had oft taught to others. I sat there with Firavain and Dajala, in the now quiet temple. We had been speaking quietly. The conversation edged on current troubles. Over the course of the conversation, I grew upset. I have tried to find the moment and cause of this, but in truth, I was unaware it even happened.

‘I am sick and tired of my misfortune drawing those I consider friends to harm! Especially when they place themselves in harm’s way for my sake and I hardly deserve it!!’

‘You need to open your palms…’

He reached across the table and placed his hand over mine. I had my hands so tightly clenched my fingers ached. His look was patient, his tone even. I blinked at him confused.

‘You remember.’

A statement. Not a question. Some things are nearly impossible to forget. And this lesson, going back to my initiate days in Trademeet… was not easily forgotten.

‘Cupped hands, not fists.’

Slowly my hands loosened from one another. I looked at my hands, and back to Firavain. As my mind passed over the first moments Iliara taught me of such. To every moment thereafter that I had used her exact words:

‘A closed fist allows for no simple mercies. Joy, simple happiness, or peace are pushed aside by the clenched fist. Opened hands gather that which is sweet and precious to behold that we may drink from the simple cool waters of hope and mercy.’

I placed my hands together, palm up and murmured quietly.

‘… It works better -this- way.’

I sighed and he nodded.

‘You remember? You told me that a long time ago.’

I did remember. The lesson on not letting your anger get the better of you… If there is such a thing as a pleasant punch in the stomach… that was it. A lesson that I needed reminding of. Student become teacher.

‘Have we truly walked so far from that first chance cup of tea? That my own wisdoms now return to me?’

‘And, neither of us is perhaps the same person anymore.’

That couldn’t be more true if it had to be. No longer did we sit across from each other, each regarding the other with a look of wary fear… each ready to run at the first sign of trouble. We sat, regarding each other over tea, as dear friends… and so very much had changed from that first cup of tea. Some more than others… some beyond measuring. Not so much that we knew not who the other was, but enough to say that time had changed us.

‘I would like to think we are better for it.’

‘Better, worse? Who knows, we're just different.’

‘It is the nature of things to change…’

My mind drifted to the conversation of Soulkeep and the wizard… What he had done, and what he may well have done, and I frowned.

‘…or to be changed.’

Yes it was the nature of things to change. That which does not adapt, dies. That which dies often becomes something else, be it soil for things to grow in, or food for scavengers… Even then it still changes. The cycle is constant. With much to contemplate, I made my way back to the orphanage.

Tessian was there, and I was able to thank him for the roses Polly had delivered. They really were lovely. So very fragrant. Yet another Mercy. Everything about that man is a mercy. A mercy that I feel so undeserved of… and one I am reluctant to let go of. Merciful Ilmater, keep him well always. Protect him as you have this faithful servant. He deserves your gentle care, for none are more gentle than he… none so kind, and I am grateful for each precious mercy we share.

Mercy willing, maybe when things settle, and the worst of our troubles are behind us… Maybe we will focus on children of our own as everyone seems so eager for us to do. In fact, Brother Rente mentioned such in his none too tactful manner…

‘So Meri, any sign of pregnancy yet?’

He sipped his soup and I looked at the poor woman sitting across from us and gave her an apologetic look. I blinked at the suddenness of the question.

‘I-- Any what?’

He took out his notebook prepared to take more notes on the Saint. He was after all charged with being ‘Saint Merielle’s Biographer’ And he was… thorough if not a bit too forward. Sometimes I marveled at what brought one so … blunt. To the service of Ilmater. But for all his lack of tact… he did at least mean well.

‘We've scant been married two months.’

‘Which is plenty of time! So... no then?’

How badly we wanted children, and I was unsure that I could bear them. Here he sat speaking of such as one talks of the price of grain and the weather. At the same time the prospect of ‘Saintlings’ appealed to him so much, that his excitement was evident. I was thrown off by the sudden change of topic… I had grown out of practice in dealing with him while he was away…

‘…ah well... uh... no. what I mean to say is yes. no I mean yes that is a no. Not yet.’

There wasn’t enough tea. The thought of the topic continuing terrified me because there wouldn’t be enough tea to save me from this. Blast his bookish curiosity!

‘Hm? You did have the marriage bed blessed? Have you tried Goldweed herb? Oh my what am I thinking this is you ... of course you would have tried the herbal methods to help it along already…’

I am not sure who I pitied more. The young woman across from us, Tessian… or Ilmater forgive me, myself. I thought of the scar that ran from navel to sternum. Of all the damage done... could I even have children? It would be a lie to say I did not want them with all my heart and soul... but I dared not hope too much for such a thing... I told him we had left our minds and hopes open, but reminded him of the complications we had discussed in the past.

‘Yes but I thought surely... I mean you were married, and are a saint now...You are trying then?’

What actually possessed me to murmur a yes? Well a no would have been disastrous I am sure. Not to mention untrue. None the less he continued on in almost gleeful exuberance.

‘I am most curious... you will be one of only three saints to have children. The other two were killed before their children were born. Both men... See?'

I glanced at the notes as he continued to ramble on. The notes had endless theories on what our children would be like… would they be born with halos? Celestial traits? Boys? Girls? On and on… I stared at the page in almost shock. He must have noted the overwhelmed expression on my face. He had put far more thought into my life, past, present -and- future, than could be considered healthy. All in the name of understanding the Saint and preserving her legacy… whatever that may yet be. He closed his notebook quickly, and the man had the graces of Mercy enough to relent.

None the less, I enjoyed a quiet dinner… or should I say -breakfast- with my husband. It was wonderful too. With the children asleep, and everything neat and tidy. [still no sign of the mops at the orphanage or the temple… And despite what Firavain insists… the floors are -not- clean enough to eat off of.] It was a perfect meal. He can truly cook breakfast like no other. Pancakes are so romantic, or at least he can make them seem such, even if the likes of Joan may never share my romantic affinity to such things. After breakfast, we made our way up the stairs, hand in hand. For a time, forgetting the shadows that threaten to destroy us was easy enough to do.
~~

[LeslieMS]

// Okay. Quick bit of OOC. These are not going to be written up like typical journal entries at first. Please note that the original post that I put up earlier has been expanded/edited =)

The first bits are actually done in a semi third person perspective. You are getting some stuff days before the main event. Then you are getting the -very-, very start of the event in third person. And the VERY, very end in third person. =) trust me I have a plan. I promise a good read. What I am posting now is the third person stuff. The third person bits are deliberately vague on some points so don't panic if it looks like I have skipped massive bits. What I am working on tomorrow will be IC journal entries, first person. This was a pretty long thing, very involved, very detailed. Going to take some time to write up. I will work on one section at a time, until done. I won't even try to give a rough estimate as to how long this will take. Suffice it to say Meri will be resting for a bit.

Big huge thanks to -everyone- involved. Especially Jinx for his ability to brain twist and riddle me -literally- to death, and make me love every second of it. Now that all of that is out of the way... Happy readings darlings. I hope my meager skills will again add to the awesome RP I have been a part of and not ruin it.

[LeslieMS]

MINDSCAPE: Feldepost's Inn
PROLOGUE: CHOICES?

The Watchman sat across the young woman they called a Saint. It would seem to any who passed the hushed conversation was between a father figure, and a young woman. They had been friends for a while… even enemies of a sort. Often they would butt heads, share harsh words. Even still… she always insisted on a hug, despite what was said or done… and he begrudgingly obliged. Once again, she looked up to his wisdom. His impartial perspective. He sipped his water, and she held her teacup. The warmth of the liquid doing little to ease her thoughts.

‘Tessian will want to go.’

‘The real question is do -you- want him to go? It is your mind, and only those you allow should enter.’

‘I feel like I should run. just run... but I can't run indefinitely. It may be safe for him... it may not. I don’t want to lose him again… I’ve nearly lost him twice already. What if I can’t save him this time?’

‘That doesn’t answer the question Merielle.’

‘I don't know what I want... I do want the amulet destroyed... I want him safe. The others think it may be wise for him to go... it will give me a strong focus that is true. Some think though, that he would be a distraction.’

‘Does it matter what others think? This is your choice.’

‘In truth… I am undecided. I would feel better with him close... He makes dreaming easier... maybe this too…’

‘As I said, your call. The only advice I would say is choose before you talk to him or others. Don’t need them swaying your opinion.’

'I'm... I don't know...'

He sipped his water, merely watching. She chewed her lip in thought and rambled on haltingly. The last few days had weighted on her mind. As the hours passed, her humanity got the best of her. She was worried. She met his silent gaze.

‘I want him there... but I am... I'm scared. Terrified doesn't even touch it. He and the children are the only things keeping me sane right now. The only things keeping me from running… I don’t want to lose him again.’

‘If fear is what is tempering your will to bring him, then you should know to bring him.’

She looked to him and nodded. He merely sat, silent. Her mind was already made up, they both knew it. They each knew that the choice was his. This was merely a small mercy. A reassurance for her… A chance to put thoughts to words. As such, when this had been done, they finished their drinks and rose. They walked swiftly from the tavern to the inn. There was one more conversation to have… Time was running out. They were barely a half step ahead of the enemy… and one missed step from failure.
~~

MINDSCAPE: Candlekeep Inn
PROLOGUE: LOVERS…

‘Hello dearest.’

She smiled at the man sitting on the end of the couch. As she passed along her greeting and sat next to him, it became apparent that he slept. His breathing was soft and even as he leaned on the arm of the couch. He murmured softly in his sleep. A smile touched her lips.

‘...Meribird... Very Meri … Meribdzz…’

She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. She moved carefully so as not to wake him. Comfortably she sat, content to watch him rest. Moments passed slowly for a time, allowing her to enjoy it. He continued to rest, mumbling softly. She couldn’t help but chuckle ever so faintly as she sat there.

Thinking her husband sound asleep, she was quite surprised when he turned on her with a growl. In an instant he had wrapped his arms around her and graced her neck with a gentle kiss. That faint chuckle, at first stifled found its way to the surface in bubbling laughter. She wriggled away to save herself from the onslaught.

‘Good morning to you too, love!’

‘Tsk tsk. Be very cautious with sleeping Aikatchyas.’

She laughed now, remembering the story he had told her. Aikatchya! ‘I catch you’ The joy of the moment only weighted what she had come to speak to him of. She shifted closer to him.

‘Indeed, my love. I needn't fear this one at least.’

‘It's true. That's true...even if I did katchya.’

‘You snared a Meribird indeed. Quite a feat.’

‘Did the yogurt delivery wagon get attacked by sixteen foot tall kobolds?’

She looked at him oddly as he run a hand over her neck gently. The question was a sudden, and rather quirky change of subject.

‘You're tense...apprehensive.’

‘If only it were sixteen foot tall Kobolds… if only it were that…’

She sighed heavily. For a long moment she simply let herself drink up the endearing moment. In her mind, she could find no gentle way to work through it. No kind way to say what would be said. He rubbed her neck as she chewed her lip in thought. Drawing a steadying breath, she began. Slowly, her voice barely a whisper.

‘I talked to Siomir... and then to Firavain... The magus from the shop is missing... Drow... I am told Baenund is looking. And they are close, love. … … And there is something that needs doing... No more running.’

His hands halted in their work, drawing her close. Her heart broke as he took a deep breath and let it out apprehensively.

‘Not much chance for old Toubazzar, is there?’

‘…there... might be …’

‘Might be? I doubt that.’

‘They have been searching near Candlekeep. Near…’

Her voice trailed off sadly and it was trembling when she spoke again.

‘I'm so very sorry love... all I bring is trouble…’

He tipped her chin up to his face, eye to eye now and he spoke, effectively halting her argument of blame.

‘What must we do?’

‘You asked me to let you stand so I am giving you the choice. but its complicated... and not... Pleasant. I told you about the runes... the amulet. We need to get to it before they get to me.’

‘Get to it? ...I don't understand.’

‘The way is hidden -in- my mind… or something like that. I am not sure any more. I think it is like a riddle of sorts. It needs to be unlocked, but we have to ... go through my thoughts... like sharing a dream. or ... nightmares... memories and thoughts... but mine... not everyone's… maybe. And ... it might be dangerous. because of the demon. Because I don’t know for sure what to expect anymore.’

What thoughts and prayers went through her mind then? Few could say, but the look she gave him was twisted in worry, sadness… fear.

‘Tonight. We don't have time to wait... The others have agreed to help. and we will start here... so we will be ... Safer. I want you safe. I don’t wa--’

‘I'm going. But I promise you two things: I don't know what I'm doing, and I won't be of any help.’

‘I was both afraid and hoping you would say that.’

‘I figured you were.’

‘You are my most precious mercy, love. You will help by lending me strength and... Focus. Something to fight for... to hold to.’

‘Mr. Morale Boost.’

‘A very important task. I'm sorry love... are you sure you are up to it? I know the business that came before the wedding… and so much since then. This… it won't be... easy or... Pleasant.’

‘I didn't promise to stick around only when it's easy.'

‘I love you, You deserve to be happy... at least ... when this is done... I'll have a chance at peace. I hope. Then we can find our peace… and … that would make me happy.’

‘I'm surprised you never did this before.’

‘I was afraid to... and in truth... for much of the last eight years... I thought it would remain hidden. That I wouldn’t need to. I didn't know until several months back that it wasn't. Then I wasn’t sure exactly what to do… or how. I am still worried. I am still not sure what to do, or how… I can only pray I will know what to do when I get there.’

She was quiet a long moment. Listening to his heartbeat.

‘The place... it will be full of memories and thoughts… difficult ones. I am afraid... you won't like what you see. Some of it… will be … unkind to know or learn. Some things that can't be put into words... some that won't be words at all…’

‘Will it be things that I ought to know, though?’

‘Things you deserve to know. Some things that have been forgotten. Most of them... are not good things… It was designed to keep even me out until he wished otherwise. It was built to be unpleasant.’

‘I'm not afraid of them.’

‘I am…’

'Together, remember?'

They shared a kiss… Something not easily put to words, went unspoken in that tender moment. Nothing need be said. They would try to rest, for they both knew they would need it. So they got the key to their room and walked, hand in hand, up the stairs.
~~

MINDSCAPE: Candlekeep Inn
PART ONE: PREPARATIONS

‘Merielle.’

She looked up to the face of the Watchman. Blinking, she had been so deep in thought that her tea had long since gone cold. Tender moments as they were, only bought her the shortest reprieve, briefest rest. She found herself unable to sleep more than an hour or two. Her mind had worked in dizzying circles. What she knew, what she thought she knew… what she understood… what she couldn’t begin to… What had recently been uncovered, and what was yet to be revealed. Such were her thoughts that she startled when she heard her name. Relief touched her features as she looked up to the hooded man.

‘Yes?’

‘Things are almost ready no?’

She drained the cold tea with a grimace and nodded. They spoke of her thoughts for a time, and who would be here to help. They had planned to make the best of this as soon as the sun had set. Each had prepared in their own way, and each would meet here. He sat on the other sofa. He looked… un-eased… The Silent Watchman had never looked nervous before… not to Meri, and yet she sat, looking at him. Nervous. She was terrified. They talked and they waited.

‘And are you guiding us in?’

‘I am not... a hundred percent sure how it all works entirely…’

He raised a brow at her.

‘I wasn't kidding when I said I haven't done -this- before. I have spent the last eight years keeping people and things out.’

‘You have traveled into the dream before. And you have traveled into the dream with others before.’

‘Yes. Hardly ever on purpose, and even then, not letting them in with the intention of seeking ... the door. Doesn’t mean I understand it… though I think I am not meant to.’

‘Either way, the more knowledge the better.’

‘Yes I have been there and with others... doesn't mean its the same each time. It changes with my own thoughts and experiences. It builds on my memories and such. Sometimes it is things I hardly thought of. Other times... its like walking through nightmares… all of them. Sometimes it makes sense, and sometimes it doesn’t. The … subconscious mind is unpredictable enough. Throw in a meddling wizard, years of mental torment, a couple demons… and well, your guess is as good as mine.’

‘How tangible is this? Is it like the dream eater, where mind is the true strength? Or is it more like astral projection?’

‘Depends on how you define tangible? From experience? It varies, sometimes yes, sometimes no.’

‘Flittering alterations of reality. I would have assumed it mental. Even when performing physical tasks.’

‘It is never the same twice... there are key elements... bits to the puzzle to solve that remain but they wear different masks and the riddles change. Seldom are things what they seem. It is... unwise to make assumptions of any kind.’

‘And it is also unwise to walk in ignorant because this experience is chaotic. I am merely attempting to understand. The more I know, the more I can help.’

‘I know... but the trouble is I don't -know- much.’

‘You have experienced it multiple times. Even just those experiences could be valuable.’

‘I know where it starts... and where it ends. Sometimes it is speaking with aspects of myself, hidden. Sometimes it is like walking through a nightmare or memories. Other times, it is merely observing and understanding thoughts. Usually there are riddles, or puzzles to solve. Something to overcome. Always there are chimes… when... the path is correct... there are chimes. The whole thing is a maze meant to lose those not meant to be there, or destroy me if I fail at my task. Metaphors within metaphors. I don’t always remember. It depends on what happens. Most of what I know is gleaned from bits of consciousness during torture with the Drow. pieced together memories from my time with the Wizard. Educated guesses, theory and conjecture, or bits I remember or am meant to know. Needless to say, the answers, if I have them all… are hidden, even to me, so its... Scattered, confusing and such. That is what makes it so dangerous.’

The conversation between the two continued for a bit until there was no more questions to ask… or at least no more answers. The monk sat silent and resolute, watching. The Ilmatari sat and whispered prayers to her god. She curled into the corner of the couch with a cup of tea. As worried as she was, she didn’t gulp it in her normal fashion… No instead, she was content to watch the steam rise. In fact she only seemed to notice the tea when the steam stopped rising. She would then frown and drain the cup, re-fill it, and the cycle would resume. Once the pot was empty she rose and took them back to Winthrop. She did not order more tea, but left the inn for a few moments, and returned to curl up in the corner of the couch. The Watchman and the Saint… didn’t say a word.

He watched as her husband came down the steps and sat next to her. It was not until Tessian spoke that Meri even realized he was there.

‘Hello my Itty-Bitty Pretty Meri.’

‘Rest well, love?’

‘More or less, yes.’

It didn’t take long for the mood to lighten for a bit. Tessian joked in his normal manner, Siomir and Rith'alaria fell into pleasant conversation easily enough. The pair of elves sat on the couch opposite of Tessian and Merielle. Firavain had long since gone up the stairs. The group waited for Joan and Dajala. The conversation was kept light, but nerves and curiosity were evident. Firavain had said the others were on the way.

They were as ready as they could be, but for what they didn’t quite know for sure. Everyone had supplies, battle ready, and prepared for a multitude of situations… Meri wondered if it were enough… The last rays of daylight faded as Winthrop brought a pot of tea for the Ensemble.
~~

MINDSCAPE: The Candlekeep Inn
PART ONE: IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE

Meri poured tea for the others with trembling hands. She laced the fingers of her free hand into Tessian’s and sipped the tea. Dajala and Joan walked into the inn. Tessian yawned as he did so often when he was nervous. It was evident in the looks on their faces that -something- had changed… shifted. Subtly. It was as if time itself had slowed imperceptibly. Siomir glanced about. Meri’s grip on the teacup tightened. Meri blinked… slowly.

‘Something’s happening.’

Siomir’s words barely registered. Leo, who had stepped in after Joan and Dajala, looked about curiously. Tessian slumped back and tensed.

‘Love? Are you alright?’

‘… Magic … I feel it.’

They whispered reassurances to one another, Siomir questioned the amount of whiskey he had drank. Leo moved back. Joan and Dajala stepped toward the group… but it was all moving so slowly. Kliron, the Silent Watchman… made not a sound as he stiffened and slid from the couch… his face twisted in… -fear-. Leo ran as the very inn seemed to shake… Joan and Dajala rushed forward. Meri’s grip on her husband’s hand tightened. Siomir and Rith stood to check on Kliron. They were afraid… but didn’t know of what. They were against something… or someone…

The teacup fell from Meri’s hand. Her eyes closed for just a moment. As her eyes opened, the hand that had clasped the tea cup now fisted over her heart. The woman crumbled over with little more than a garbled choke…

‘Meri?’

‘What the hells!?’

Tessian looked at his wife. His dead wife. Which was enough to send the poor man into a panic alone, but there was more to it than that. It was clear on all there faces… that span of seconds… but for now:

‘Meri?!’

‘Meri are you alright?’

‘What just happened?’

‘Is she dead?’

Joan let loose a string of explicatives at the sight of her sister.

Everyone began talking at once… no one was exactly sure of what had just happened or how… There were calls for a healer. Meri lay on the couch, surrounded by a panicked group of her closest friends. Someone read a scroll with the power to restore the body. Her heart beat again, her breathing resumed. She did not wake.

‘Did she make it through? Did she make it out?’

Dajala’s question may have seemed odd to some in the inn… but not to all. They waited. Rith leaned over and whispered to Meri, words meant for her ears alone. Slowly, with the gentle urgings of the others, her breathing evened, and she stirred…

‘Did she just move?’

‘She did... I knew it would take more than what happened to bring Meri down. She's one tough person, as we all know way too personally now.’

As she woke, comatose slumber was replaced with a blinding migraine that caused her to curl into a ball on the sofa. She let out a weak groan, the others were positively ecstatic that she wasn’t dead. They were all speaking hushed, fussing… and had she been in any shape to argue against it she would have. Instead she let them, not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice. Slowly she opened her eyes to regard the others. When she finally did speak, it was to ask a question… that they had all probably asked, if not out loud.

‘By all that is Mercy… Did that really all just happen?’

‘Apparently… if we all remember it. I would say yes.’

‘I feel ... like the whole of the Multiverse has taken apart my mind one piece at a time and slammed it all back together.'

‘That might have been me…Maybe Siomir.’

Joan grinned teasingly at Meri, even Dajala smiled. Rith looked at Meri and murmured.

‘You are sort of crazy though... to let the three least subtle people into your head. Me, Siomir, Joan…’

Everyone smiled at that. Except Meri who looked worried.

‘Wait. What just happened... are we back? is everyone out?’

‘Yes Meri.’

They moved to quickly quell her worries. Tessian went ahead to prepare the orphanage. It was decided in short order that Meri needed rest. Meri didn’t argue much. The group made their way out of the inn, intent on getting Meri safely home to the orphanage. There would be much to discuss. Many questions… and some that would not be answered easily if at all. For now, it would have to wait.

Something had happened in the blink of an eye. Something had happened, but what? Did they succeed? Or simply delay the inevitable? To the whole world, only a few seconds had passed… To Meri and her friends it had been a lifetime… of thoughts and memories… of nightmares and enemies. It had been an experience. One that would not be easily unraveled.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-EIGHTH ENTRY]
MINDSCAPE: The Candlekeep Inn?
PART TWO: THE EDGE OF A KNIFE

‘Something’s happening.’

I looked at Siomir. He felt it too. We all did. Had I fallen asleep? Had we? I couldn’t tell. Something was different. That distant foreboding… that something had shifted, changed. I felt Tessian tense next to me. He shrank back into the couch as my hand held his tighter.

‘Love? Are you alright?’

‘… Magic … I feel it.’

No sooner had the unsettled feeling passed than Kliron stiffened where he sat. He slid from the couch to the floor. I was barely aware of Rith and Leo quietly passing greetings. Dajala and Joan moved to see what was wrong with Kliron… I stood too, but didn’t let go of Tessian’s hand. Kliron’s face was twisted, anger? Fear? I tried to move to him, but Tessian was not so swift to move.

‘It will be alright, love. Trust me. Trust faith.’

I spoke softly to Tessian, reassuringly.

‘I trust you...but not this Thayan's labyrinth.’

No sooner had he answered me than I heard an all too familiar laugh ring through my thoughts. Wicked and maniacal. A promise of things to come… or a threat… I prayed as I stood thinking that Kliron was ill, or under some foul influence. I sought to protect them, but the energy that usually moved so easily through me… was absent.

The whole world seemed to pause. I felt faced with a choice. On a knife’s edge. I was going to fall… there was no saving grace to it. All I could do was choose the direction. On one side… a burning headache… the other? A black seamless unknown. The others looked from Kliron to me. They were confused, curious, afraid. I closed my eyes and prayed.

‘Meri....What is happening?’

I heard Rith’s question… but there was no time to answer. I had to choose. The floorboards beneath Kliron began to crack and creak… the floor was falling from under us. The scent of fire and burning filled our noses as the carpet beneath our feet blackened to ash with unnatural haste. Siomir moved to grab Kliron back. Tessian froze in fear. Rith clung to Siomir as smoke filled our view… Kliron did not move from his spot, un-phased by the burning floor beneath him. His eyes closed, his hands folded at his chest. I tried to focus… to cling to the waking moments. I heard Leo scream. I prayed she would escape this nightmare…

‘By the Maiden… Get out!’

It was too late for the rest of us. I closed my eyes as the floor collapsed from beneath us. Rapidly I watched in muted terror as the floor fell away from us in an ever expanding circle until all that was of the waking world had fallen away into darkness… We fell through that black void that now surrounded us. There was no definite direction… we fell.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-EIGHTH ENTRY]
MINDSCAPE: Entrance
PART THREE: ONLY ONE…? FOR THE MASTER.

We landed in a cool, dark cavern. I say cool… the others were so cold I could see the goose bumps on their skin. Our breath crystallized as if left our bodies. There was a miniature storm raging wildly in front of us. Three tunnels to our side and behind. Directly behind us stood Wthyran. We struggled to our feet and to get our bearings. He stared at us unblinking.

‘What are you doing here?’

Siomir asked Wthyran as he stood.

‘I could ask… You… the same thing. This... Is -my- home.’

It moved like him, talked, spoke and looked like him… but it wasn’t -quite- right. The hairs along the back of my neck stood on end. The first of many tests…

‘None of you are welcome.’

The others had inched forward, but I saw it there… a madness… barely contained insanity and rage flashed in his eyes.

‘Get back.’

They stepped away and the thing that was to be Wthyran smiled a broad smile… He never smiles. I felt my stomach flip as his gaze turned to me.

‘-None of you are welcome!-. Except -Her-.’

He lifted his finger to me, grinning. It was a grin that chilled me in a way the air could not. Possessive and knowing. A glimmer of a memory ran through me.
~
‘Stupid girl! Mine. Do you understand? Forever mine. I -am- the Master. You will obey, without question, always. You will never be another’s. I have made you useful. And you will serve your purpose.’

He held his skeletal hand at my throat. The dark energy alone would make it hard to breathe… His hand clasped tightly. I glared defiantly and felt his grip tighten. A surge of energy left me quaking from the pain of it as it rippled through me… I held out long from the onslaught… but eh would not take no for an answer… finally… survival won out. I nodded… though in my heart I knew I would not be his. Ever.
~
I focused back on the grinning elf.

‘I welcome who I choose.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Seeking…’

‘Who... are... These… Strange ones…’

‘Allies.’

‘No, no... You're all just... Spares.’

A second Wthyran said as he stepped from the tunnel to the right. I blinked between them. They both regarded me with the same possessive, dark, smile even as he spoke to the others.

‘It's only -her- that matters.’

‘No one else should be here.’

Insisted a third as he stepped from the left-most tunnel. I had to stand firm now. Lest they be tossed out by the defense mechanisms.

‘No. They stay.’

‘She... order's us…’

‘That's not how it works…’

‘This is -our- home.’

‘-She- can stay.’

The Trio took turns speaking, it was almost dizzying… to see three speak with one voice… one thought. Only one addressed me though… the first.

‘They -all- stay.’

I insisted.

‘But all of your... false friends… cannot.’

‘They -all- stay.’

I repeated to him. The one on the right addressed Tessian first, then the one on the left.

‘You must go…’

‘NOW!’

He shifted nervously, but Tessian never let go of my hand. Hesitantly he spoke, but his words were delivered with such finality. I smiled.

‘...she's my wife.’

The trio of Wthyrans twitched identically at that. The possessive eyes locking on me again.

‘Wife?’

‘She cannot be married.’

‘Not to Anyone but Us.’
‘Not to Anyone but Us.’
‘Not to Anyone but Me!’

As the second two said -us-… the first said -me-. I stood defiant. They knocked arrows in their bows with the same sweeping motion. And aimed at Tessian.

‘No! No you will not.’

I stepped between their arrows and my husband, never did I let go of his hand.

‘I will not play the puppet on strings.’

The trio looked confused by my defiance… unexpected. The first spoke again.

‘But this… Was always meant to be… You must see that.’

‘No. They stay. All of them.’

The first looked at the other two.

‘They've turned her against us.’

The second pointed to Tessian.

‘The human's fault.’

The third pointed to the others.

‘They must -suffer-’

The first addressed me in a jealous rage.

‘You belong to the -Master-!’

With that they attacked. Their eyes held madness and rage, jealousy and hate. It was palpable in the place, accented by the chill air. The fighting was fierce, but the battle was short lived. At last we stood over the crumpled forms of the three Wthyrans who were not Wthyran. The others looked very confused.

‘Mind what you say. This place is designed to keep people out. Things are -never- what they seem here. It is meant to confuse and control.’

The others nodded or agreed in various ways. As we looked about and recovered from the first battle, we spotted the very faint outline of a portal amid the storm that rampaged ahead. As we drew closer… the air grew colder. I hardly noticed the difference if not for the reactions of the others. I inched forward, Tessian’s fingers laced in my own. The others followed my lead carefully. I could not help but fear they were following me to doom. I could not help but worry for what lay ahead. I was afraid I would not fail this… but somehow… fail them. Lose them to this nightmarish place. They would be my strength. Tessian’s wry quip dashed my fears. Yes. They would be what helped me succeed… not fail. I prayed. And we inched forward toward the glowing portal in the blizzard of ice and snow.

‘Yes! Let's go toward the mysterious glowing object in a magical maze of pain and death. … Not like we have a choice…’

I gave his hand a squeeze.

‘My strength is yours. we endure... Together remember? I will not let you die, love.’

He nodded to me. I hesitated at the fringes of the storm.

‘Well, then...let's go. Pick 'em up, then. Best foot forward.’

I slowed as we neared the portal. Tessian continued to pull me inexorably forward.

‘Tessian… wait…’

I tried to tug him back. Suddenly I was afraid.

‘It's safe...I can feel it…’

He said trying to sound reassuring and calm… but he sounded… dazed… not quite himself. The portal flashed as we neared ever closer. The swirling cloud of snow and ice turned to ash as we drew nearest to the portal… it drew us all in as Tessian dragged me through the portal… and in a flash, everything changed.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[ONEHUNDRED AND EIGHTY-EIGHTH ENTRY]
MINDSCAPE: The Battle Ground
PART FOUR: THE GUARDIAN

We choked and sputtered on the ash as the world seemed to melt around us burned away by biting cold. We were stung by whirling ice. A frozen sandstorm. The energy of the portal seemed to stretch and spin us about. Then just like that, the world settled. It was considerably colder. The others shivered and became sluggish with the cold. I almost felt bad for them. In normal conditions they would have spells to protect them… heavy gear to keep them warm… here we were dressed casually. Snow fell gently around us. There was no wind to throw the biting cold at us. For that I was thankful.

In stark contrast to the expanse of snow, were multitudes of corpses. Some freshly killed… the blood staining the snow bright red, the warmth still rising from the crimson liquid. Others were little more than centuries old, brittle piles of bones. It was enough to signify the end of not just one battle… but many. A war. Drow, Thayan, noble armies in finery that I could not recognize, all of them were dead save for one solitary figure.

His blades and armor spattered with gore. His dark skin contrasting with colored death, or the colorless white… He stood triumphant against countless foes. Rith hissed, the others regarded him with fear and hate. Were it any other face in this place… I would have said it justified. Something deep in my heart twisted… something tucked away and forgotten.

Looking back on that very moment now, as I write… I wish I had said more. Having finally understood the nature of the place, I realized that it may well have been him… not just a representation… When you say to a past love: You shall always have a place in my heart… I doubt it is ever meant so literally. When I could speak… it was not the cold that leant my words their tremor. Of all the things I expected to see, I had not expected something … well, not horrible… to face me now. I half suspected it a trick.

‘A strange... manner of intruder…’

He regarded us as we stumbled to get our bearings… I stood, frozen to my place, my hand grasped Tessian’s so tightly it may well have broke our hands. I stepped between the figure and the others. I watched his eyes size us up, gauge our skill. He was poised to strike, calculating the advantage the cold held for him. With a studious look he flicked the blood from his blades.

‘Not Red Wizard... nor Dark Elf…’

I stepped between them all, kept Tessian behind me. Carefully, I inched forward under that watchful gaze. Something flashed in his eyes… a hint of recognition? Suspicion. Wary of a trick. He was as unsure of us, as we were of him.

‘X-- Xun...?’

‘That... that might be my name.’

Again a flicker of recognition as he regarded me. He raised a brow and watched. His stance shifted, defensive. I spoke again… this time my voice barely a whisper. Here stood the only creature in the hell beneath my feet… that ever sought to protect me. Here stood the guardian of my very heart. The protector who had shielded me from the worst of the Matron’s wrath. Some times it was a means for me to not be in the wrong place at the wrong time… and others a toxin to put me in a deep sleep… the worst of things unremembered, or seen simply as a dream What did he guard now, but the very path I sought? From the looks of the carnage about, he had guarded long and well.

‘Kyorl d'ussta Xukuth?’

He nearly dropped his blades. Recognition… confusion… something long forgotten, and he answered.

‘Ussta Sel'tur Kestal... How are you here?’

‘I... don't know... For certain…’

‘They keep coming... and I keep killing them…’

His voice was almost pained as he spoke. He gestured about.

‘I know. I see.’

‘All of them.... Unworthy… Red Wizards and... Dhaerow…’

He spoke with such venom that I could not help but raise a brow. It was then that his attention, and so too mine, were drawn back behind us. Joan seemed trapped in a circle of sorts. She and Siomir were beating on the wall of restrictive magic.

‘You... don't want to do that… No one can go through that portal. It's my promise... I'm sorry.’

I raised a brow and blinked.

‘Promise to who?’

‘I don’t… remember. I feel like... I should.’

How differently did time pass in this place? How long had he stood here? If the bodies were an indication… Centuries… but how is that even possible? I felt him then… an overwhelming loss. My heart wrenched for his.

‘Usstan tlun taudl s'argt... Kyorl d'ussta Xukuth... F'sarn taudl.’
‘I am sorry guardian... Guard of my Heart... I'm sorry.’

‘Does anyone mind telling me what’s going on here?’

Joan sounded irritated… scared. Joan doesn’t get scared…

‘We're here…’

Siomir’s own voice already sounded frustrated.

‘No idea Joan.. but now it looks like I have two people I have to look after closely.’

And for once… it was Rith who was being reassuring. Xun took a few steps forward, closing the distance between he and I. Fortunately the others were distracted. Otherwise something may have been said about the look that passed between us. He had always kept me safe… and would even now, somehow in this place… he would find a way. I looked at the bodies. He already had. Against all but one. The Demon. Which was why I had agreed to this in the first place. We had to unravel this before the Drow or the Thayans… we had to find a way to get rid of the demon, before I couldn’t control it anymore. I gave him a look full of sadness and apology. He had not failed me… but I had failed him.

It was never love like others would think… it was never a physical thing. For the first year I knew him, I never once saw him. Hidden by the darkness of that place. He was a protector… I was something cherished. It was not a love like Tessian and I shared… not a love of friendship, but a sort of love born from kindness, and the need to see something greater than both of us come to pass.

‘I'm sorry, Guardian. I let one in, though I don't know how. I ... had to come.’

‘But, why?’

The air around us grew colder. I didn’t feel it but I was aware of it. It was beginning to get to the others. In fact the cold was increasing further even as we spoke. Rith glared at Xun, hating him only because of what he was… and that was only the half she understood. What would she have thought if she knew he was half demon? That he had defied his nature, not once but twice, for my sake. Would she have hated him if she knew he was the instrument of demise for all of House Baenund? Not just Baenund, but of all he could halt from seeking the surface in his way? Probably. She was a child of Sheverash. She could not understand what it was that he had done… would do. She did not realize that it was his machinations that saw me to the surface even long after his death. She did not know how many else were freed over the years because of his tasks. And if she did… it would not matter. She would kill him. He knew it, I knew it, and we both accepted it. I only prayed she stayed her blade long enough…

‘I have to try. To stop them.’

‘No... It can't have come to that…’

‘Xun… Please. I have to.’

As I spoke with him, the others sought a way to get Joan out of the binding circle.

‘The Red Wizards would have you say that.’

‘Xun... guardian... I have to pass.’

‘If you are false... you will die…’

It was not a threat. Maybe not even a promise. A simple truth. I found myself pleading for them regardless.

‘Please spare them for my sake... I speak no lie to you. I -can't- lie to you. Wouldn't.’

He gestured back to Joan. The others were becoming increasingly panicked. I was starting to worry. It did not help that the cold was dulling minds and motion. Even I was starting to fall sway to the chill. I could only begin to fathom the effect it was having on the others.

‘The woman... she is here because the Bound One requires a soul... Release them both and I will let you in. My Hope… My Meri… she would do that. A test... yes... a test.’

He waved his hand, but as Joan’s situation was becoming increasingly dire, the others more agitated… I missed the simple answer. As he motioned to the portal behind him… the one behind Joan sprang to life. Either way… I missed the clear direction.

‘It will take you where you should be…’

I looked at Xun questioningly, pleadingly. He spoke of more than one but all I saw was Joan. There was more to the puzzle, that I did not see as my mind circled itself. Xun looked at me, though his face had hardened… there was a pleading in his eyes. He wished me to be who I said I was. He urged me forward. Challenged me.

‘He will take them both, his greed knows no bounds.’

‘She is dear to me... they all are… -He- will not take them.’

I murmured as I struggled to think.

‘He was not always here... I think…’

‘-He- is not supposed to be here.’

‘But I don't remember a time he was not... so... I cannot judge.’

We still struggled against Joan’s bindings. Still the clarity of thought eluded me. I looked to Xun confused.

‘Xun... guardian... Please…’

‘A promise... made to be kept. You must not prove to be false. I would hate to have to kill more.’

Joan’s portal hummed menacingly. The tempers of the others rose sharply in panic as Xun explained the consuming of souls. Siomir worried for Joan out of love… Joan of course did not like being stuck in a cage. Poor Tessian was too cold to function hardly, his hand all but frozen to mine. It was so cold… -I- was cold… how cold did it have to be for -me- to be cold? I looked at the others and my heart sank. I prayed.

‘He has consumed another... Pity. It happens... down here there are so many trapped, especially since -He- arrived. Many of them are gone.’

I struggled to think. The others were yelling, shivering, cold and miserable. I was afraid. So very afraid that I would fail them. I looked at Joan and prayed… willed my mind to work.

'Do you intend to stand there? While she dies? That's... Thats... not what I thought you would... But then... so much is missing.'

‘Die?!’

Joan struggled against that which held her.

‘Meri! Quickly!’

I begged and pleaded and he looked at me. Sadly he spoke, so much sadness.

‘There is nothing I can do... you let -him- in.’

A flash of An’grath. This was his menacing. I heard his cruel laughter run through me as I struggled to pull thoughts together. Gods above… I had to outsmart more than one foe, and quickly. Time worked against us… in this place, and I feared without as well… I didn’t know what to do. I prayed for the path to become clear. And slowly it did. The portal behind Joan was not supposed to be there. I knew the path. There was only one way. Xun had not lied to me. He would not. Couldn’t. The Guardian sought only to protect.

‘That door is false! There is only one path.’

I pointed to Joan’s portal, and as I spoke it seemed to flicker… what had once looked identical to the true path, now showed its true form. Covered in abyssal runes and seething with darkness and hate. Joan fought against going through the portal with all her might and will… the others struggled against the invisible wall holding her in place.

‘He's trying harder... You must be strong. I don't remember him loosing concentration before…’

He studied me, almost pleased. And then his face hardened again, the portal behind him glowed brighter. He waited for me to understand. Somewhere there was a bellow of rage as that which we fought against was growing irritated. The panic and frenzy in Joan and Siomir fed Rith’s rage, Tessian passed out from the cold. Kliron watched silently. He moved to carry Tessian and slowly… so very slowly I realized that the way was in front of me the whole time.

‘Nothing I can do... this is your task. Your Test. You will take the hard way then?’

He motioned to our flailing against the barrier. Siomir turned on him in a rage as Joan fell through the portal behind her with a painful shriek. I blanched.

‘Is the easy way through -YOU-?!’

Xun simply looked at us, and looked to me sadly. He gestured behind him. My very frustrated tears freezing to my cheeks as they fell. The test. To see if first I could stand the cold… survive it… and second, to free them.

‘I opened that for you... I think I mentioned that.’

His face hardened as he suspected me another imposter. The kindness, sadness… all of it gone. The temperature dropped. I tried so very hard to follow the path he had laid before me, but my mind refused to work.

‘I don’t underst--’

I shuddered.

‘Meri! Think!’

I looked to the portal, and somehow found the will and strength to combat the cold. I pointed our way. The way that had always been there. I would have to be careful. I knew it was not meant to be easy… but already I would nearly fail them so.

‘Why did you bring them Meri? Your loved ones?’

Her words hit me like a sharp slap and I blinked as we trudged forward.

‘Strength of Honor Rith.’

I looked at Siomir as we began to move slowly through the portal behind Xun. Why indeed? Because I dared not trust those I did not bring? I brought them for the strength they lend me. I should have expected the very nature of the place to use that very strength against me. It was so very cold. Siomir and Rith followed as Kliron and I dragged Tessian. Anger, frustration. I prayed for strength. I looked up to Xun as we stepped through the portal. His words resounded through me.

‘Do not prove -False- or you -will- die.’

If -I- Could not succeed here… then all was lost. As needs must. Somehow… I could not fail this. Xun and I shared one last look as the energy from the portal enveloped us. I spoke and he nodded to my words.

‘I am -not- false. I will not prove -False-, Guardian.’

His eyes said he hoped I was right. There was a crackle of magical energy… the chill suddenly replaced by warmer air… and the smell of brimstone and sulfur.
~~