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

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An odd sight would have been seen leaving the Temple of Mystra.

Two temple guards and an elderly-looking man directed a shackled, pale woman further in the city. Rumour has it that their destination ended up being the Fist compound. Many Candlemarks later, the two temple guards were seen exiting the place, yet there was no sighting of the shackled individual or the elderly fellow.

For anyone who has visited the public library in the last two days at the temple of Mystra, they might have seen a odd sight as a strange meeting took place further within the hall.

An elven courier moved through the city of of Baldur's Gate with a practiced and effortless ease. He does not pause or dally about the city, his task to be seen to as requested. He wears a muted green cloak the dawns a pin upon it, the delicate sigil of Doron Amar marks him as one that is from Doron Amar. In his hands he carried a single scroll bound in a soft silvery blue ribbon and bearing a stylized crest of Doron Amar, but with a elegantly woven decorative edge that subtly contains the initials "~V" and "D.A." With a respectful inclining of his head, the courier offered it directly to Fenwick's hand. The elf exited the city just as easily as he had entered it, blending into the wilds once he left the outskirts of the city, he headed back home to the Village.

There are rumours that a recent shipment of some sort has likely arrived in the temple of Mystra. Perhaps it is something important or at least requires a sudden surge in the noticable security seen around and within the temple halls. It is uncertain what is being kept in the vaults in the temple, one can only surmise it is something of great power or value to warrant such an increase in armed guards.

Temple of Mystra, Baldur’s Gate — Nightfall

The air within the temple carried the scent of old incense, silver ink, and dust warmed by candlelight. Arcane light filtered through enchanted columns and spell-crystal sconces, painting shifting blue reflections across the floor. Silence clung to the stone. Not heavy, but alive. Like a breath held in reverence.

At the far end of the chamber stood the altar. Behind it rose a great stained-glass window, shaped in reverence to Mystra's ancient symbol. The old pointed star glowed within its center, its seven arms reaching outward in quiet majesty. Blue and violet light shimmered through the glass, casting slow-moving patterns across the polished floor.

Joneleth knelt before it, motionless.

He had spoken his prayer minutes earlier. Now he waited, listening not with ears but with something deeper. The Weave pulsed here, gentle and steady, like the heartbeat of the world. He did not expect words. He did not ask for signs. Only clarity. Only guidance.

Before him lay a cracked focus stone. Etched in infernal script, now inert. It had once channeled power for a warlock, drawn from something that did not belong. He had shattered it himself. Not with rage, but with purpose.

He stared ahead, his green eyes focused beyond the altar. Something was wrong in the city. The signs were scattered, faint, and easily dismissed by those who did not know what to look for. But he had felt it. In the quiet moments. In the edge of spell residue. In the way divine wards seemed slower to respond.

There were whispers among the faithful. Mentions of rituals. Concerns about intrusion. Not all of it made sense. Not yet. But something was shifting.

The Weave was restless.

He breathed in through his nose and let it out slowly. His hands were still. His cloak did not move. He did not speak again. There were no more words that would help.

The light of Mystra’s old star shone overhead, silent and constant.

Rumours had spread around the last day or so that there had been quite a bit of activity within the temple of Mystra.

Workers and Acolytes had been transporting various chests and clothing in and out of the temple, a small carriage outside gathering all the items. Most of it seemed like outdated attire and different goods and items needed for mundane day-to-day work and chores.

The day after, the guards, if asked or any of the members of the temple, as to why the commotion, would inform anyone asking the same thing:

"Saer Fenwick has been asked to step down in his role as the Caretaker of the temple of Mystra. Though most people likely know or have heard, he is no longer a paladin; therefore, the leadership of the temple and Waterdeep has agreed that, as such, he should no longer represent the temple of Mystra due to his current circumstances."

If further pressed, depending on the individual's standing within the temple and the likelyhood of the guards or acolytes possibly gossiping, they would also be told that the former paladin had been asked to vacate the temple, many speaking of decisions made by the paladin having been in disagreement to the wishes of the leadership both in the temple and in Waterdeep.

They would also inform anyone seeking an audience with the older knight that he henceforth no longer represented the temple in any capacity, and that any concerns or queries should be brought to the seniors of the temple. Some recommend the Senior Arcanist Sirion, some others the Sorcerer Supreme Mathilde. Several also suggested seeking out the newerish addition, Researcher and acolyte Firinelia.

Ashenie wrote: ↑Sat Sep 13, 2025 9:39 pm *A quiet Sister comes by the Temple of the Lady of Magic, with a heavy basket full of flowers, balms and medicinal herbs. She asks about Ser Althalous Fenwick, former caretaker of the Temple, with the admitted intention to offer the old man care and balms to soothe his lingering pains and ease his suffering with the devotion and tenderness of a grand-daughter.*

The most helpful Elven wizard in all the lands would inform that the former Paladin Althalous Fenwick had been kicked out of the temple, and now continues his life's work at the Friendlier Than Amn Inn, plotting and scheming how to get his hands on a particular sword. But he would likely appreciate a visit.