
Upon the sending, Elisia began the long journey toward the village of the Winding Waters north of Baldur's Gate. The wagon ride was quiet, with the occasional idle chatter of the patrons along for the travel. The quiet, morose Kelemvorite remained silent until they arrived close enough to begin the walk. When she stepped out of the wagon, her arms were full of bags and supplies, with a backpack nearly splitting with provisions.
When the young robed woman arrived in the village, there was hardly anything left. The cobblestone walls were marked with soot as far as the eye could see. The building tops that once were stood reduced to their bare bones of black wooden beams supported by stone foundations. Elisia carried on into the village; the sending had come from Afendaria. She knew she was inside but could hardly see anything through the smoke drifting across the city ground. The woman pressed forward and continued to look around the village until she found the ginger Kelemvorite. Afendaria stood against a pile of amassed bodies, her ginger hair standing out against the backdrop of smoke and soot like a still-burning ember in the ruins.
The two spoke quietly, taking in the depth of the situation. A seemingly endless number of villagers lay dead under the ruins, with no indication of how many remained to be retrieved. There was little time to begin speculating. The slender, robed Kelemvorite followed the armored woman, carrying one of the nearby bodies. The two of them worked through most of the evening and late into the night. Each of the corpses took hours of preparation as the two worked in tandem to bring dignity to each of them, worthy of the Great Guide's blessing. By morning, the two set up camp, taking turns to keep watch under the threat of the "Fish People."
When morning came, the two began their day as the previous one had left off, except on this day Elisia would use the means of teleportation to get further supplies to support the scope of the task. Her time in Baldur's Gate was brief. She stopped to buy shrouds and purchase any fabric or sheets she could afford. By the time she gathered the materials for the further burials, help had arrived in the desolate village.
The young Kelemvorite teleported back with the supplies. She was greeted by the sounds of metallic spades striking the ground and digging, one after the next. The rhythm of the noise rang out along the ruins, drawing in Elisia. She set her supplies to the ground and picked up her pace to find the source.

There she stood before an exceptionally tall, familiar face that of Alexander Marshall and those from the Village of Triel. They came in numbers, assisting with the digging. The quiet Kelemvorite wandered around the ruins of the Winding Waters, looking for the armored priestess. The sounds of singing could be heard from the workers as she looked for the unmistakable frustrated intonation of Afendaria, but there was none. Kelemvor's priestess was assisting in praying over those recently laid to rest.
Elisia joined her by her side and continued to help. The two, with the help of the people of Triel, made a great deal of progress in digging graves for the mounting number of dead. They continued on through the day in peace until the village was attacked by creatures from the nearby waters creatures that resembled fish-like people stormed the ruins of the village. While they attacked and attempted to further take advantage of the village's state, their rampage was quickly extinguished by the efforts of those assisting the village.
A couple of days passed, and the number of graves was quickly filled by those wrapped in shrouds. The nights came relatively peacefully, with lanterns lit in remembrance of the dead against the dark, starlit sky. While the work seemed endless, there were moments of peace and reflection among each of them. Elisia and Afendaria mostly stayed busy and took turns keeping watch at their distant campsite. When morning came, the dark-robed woman returned to her work around the village. When she saw Afendaria again, those of Triel had left. Alexander was reported injured, and it was the two of them again.

Visitors came and went throughout the tenday, while those of the Lord of the Dead remained steadfast in their goal to bury the dead. Elisia took to the day, wandering the city and gathering what stones she could to mark the graves. She took her time in the cool autumn air, finding what decorative stones could be used, while keeping focused on each task. There were too many graves at this point to be picky.
Elisia spent the day with the gathered stones, working alone and carving the mark of Kelemvor along their rough exteriors. Each marker took time. She worked and listened to the prayers of the priestess of their shared faith. When the stones had made some headway, she set them off to the side and continued to assist Afendaria with the preparation and honoring of the dead. It had been several days at that point, and it began to look as if they were making progress. The bodies lay gathered in a row, awaiting another set of graves. They continued to work on through the day and by campfire light at night.

The slender Kelemvorite was insistent on the two of them finding time to rest. On the nights that she took watch, Elisia opened her book and reflected on those she had recorded villagers and citizens of the Winding Waters. The faithful layperson carefully wrote down their descriptions, conditions, and causes of death. In the evening moonlight, she spent her night reading each of the passages, quietly speaking a prayer for every one of them. As the days went on, it became more difficult for her to finish the list before sunrise.