Never Again Forget - Saint Merielle Silene

[LeslieMS]

[SIXTY-FOURTH ENTRY]

My search does go as well as I had wanted it to. There has been no sight of him still. Not since the other day. He has not made it further south than Beregost I am sure. The roads are so dangerous, it’s a wonder how he made within sight of Candlekeep. He is smart enough to know not to travel too far south though. We, and quite the group indeed, made our way to the ravaged remnants of Nashkell. There was no sign of him having come that far. We checked any place that might have been a hiding place for one so small. I found my eyes also scanning the dirt, the dust layers in ruins for any bit of writing that might have pointed to him being there.

My own patience wearing thin, and my heart heavy… I found myself angered at myself. How can I walk so long and still know nothing? Unfortunately I am also very tired. I found myself snapping at the others. Ilmater forgive me… I owe Colt an apology… I even snapped at him. Sleeping just enough to keep myself well enough for work and praying that mercy can take hold in my dreams has hardly been enough. Most of the time I wake desperately afraid of some unnamed thing, covered in a cold sweat and so inexplicably afraid. What does my mind see that horrifies my heart so? Perhaps the mercy is in not remembering the cause of such wild fear. Either way, I find it nearly impossible to return to sleep.

Dianne is still greatly worried for Billy. I see the disappointment in her eyes each time I walk in the door without Billy in tow. She is a brave girl. I am proud of her stout resolve, though I wish her young heart could enjoy her innocent child’s play. One so young should not have so many burdens on her heart. I see in her, much in myself. Her stoicism, her love for cooking, her want for help.

I see the wonder and adoration in her eyes and I wonder if she knows just how much I admire her? I hug her tightly each time I return to the temple… and of late I have granted her small gifts. Extra dessert, a couple extra coins every now and then. It brightens her spirit, if only a little, for a short while, it is still something. She has taken a liking to embroidery, and is very good at it. I dare say she should give me lessons some time.

Mercy continues to draw those of the faithful to us. I met an interesting woman, with stark white hair. She has been traveling of late, but Ilmater guided her steps back to us here in Baldur’s Gate. We exchanged stories. She knew Sister Abby also, and was here when there was trouble with Banites. She was eager to help in whatever capacity she could, and in her we have yet another valuable ally. I think that is why Ilmater bids me patience and to wait. So that we may gather our allies.

Indeed this temple is blessed with a great number of allies. I find myself surrounded by good friends to kind folk wanting to help. For all my years alone, I find the number of friends a greater comfort than any I have ever known. It is reassuring to know if ever I could not stand, there would be those willing and able to stand in my stead.

I work to strengthen myself in mind, body and spirit, for I know that the greatest tests of my resolve and faith are yet to come. I do not wish to fail my god, my friends, all those so dear and precious to me, but if I am not ready I will falter when it matters the most, and there is too much at stake for that. They too will be tested in time, and my constant prayer is that they are prepared. There will come a day to stand toe to toe with our enemy. It will be a battle of wills and words as much as sword and fist. More than lives are on the line, souls, and the well being of many.

We must be ready, we must not waver. When the time comes we must stand together, unflinching and endure side by side. We shall endure, we shall not waver and we will prevail. Mercy will Prevail. In that there is no question, no negotiation, no other answer but this. Time will reveal many things, and in time it shall reveal the very depth and contents of our souls. The Gods test us friends… Pray we are ready…
~~

[LeslieMS]

[SIXTY-FIFTH ENTRY]

I sat at the end of the couch watching Billy sleep long after the others had gone to find rest. Thoughts danced wildly through my mind. He was safe. He was safe and there was still time. Ever there is hope! There are many questions in my mind, most of which time holds the answers to. The others plan and scheme and try to come up with a way to keep Billy safe, sate his appetite for ‘heroic adventure’ and thwart the plans of the Bhaalists. I was elated to see him unharmed. It left so many questions though, the entire turn of events. Did they know where Billy was the whole time? Waiting and watching to play their hand? We were attacked as soon as we tried to make our way north. I feared that we wouldn’t even make it to Candlekeep.

The words of Ilmater ran through my mind:

‘You must protect him no matter the cost.’

It was those words that spurned me onward as my heart broke. To leave the battle behind… Urging the others to run and praying they would follow I gathered up Billy holding him close. I could hear the battle behind. The throes of metal to metal, the yell of curses and prayers and incantations, the burst of spell-borne energy lighting my path as the sun set. The most painful sound was the sound of my own heart. I was once again fleeing battle with a most precious cargo, leaving the others to fight or die in my stead. I had not right to ask this of any of them. I do not think they could understand my gratitude… I do not think I could express it. I know full well they could have left my side long ago… And they stay.

Knowing what we face, they remain. For my sake, for Billy’s sake, for the sake of Mercy and all it holds, for reasons known only to themselves, they remain. It is humbling. On the same hand I feel a thief. Who am I to be granted such loyalty, such friendship? The battle pursued us right to the gates of Candlekeep. I looked on as Elrith and I thought to shield Billy. Finally the din outside the gate quieted and Rai announced that our foe had fallen or fled. Either way we were safe for the moment.

Rai… She is a wonder in my mind. This woman, once cruel and deadly to me. Indeed since that day I shared tea with her, she seems changed. I wonder at her motives… I worry at them. For not once of late have -I- heard her speak with the ill-intended whispers. Gone too are the deadly promises. She has willingly helped… in her own way. Her tongue is still sharp, as is no doubt her blade. I sense something lurking beneath the veneer of kindness she wears, but I know not what. Val recounted some disturbing dialogue surrounding Billy’s return to us. Words that I would not doubt her speaking, which only adds to the suspicion in my mind. I do hope she has begun a change for the better, but I am not so foolish as to extend complete trust to her.

‘Do you trust this one?’

Val had asked and I had nodded a tentative yes. I am giving her a second chance but for now that is as far as my trust extends.

I have done my best to shield Billy from the unpleasantness surrounding us. Ilmater had spoken of Billy and I both having a choice to make. How could he make that choice without seeing all things for what they were. The mark has changed in the absence of proper guidance. As much as I do not wish to… to see realization dawn on his small face, to explain to him the full weight of what he bears. Ilmater please… I ask most humbly… give him strength to endure, give me the strength to explain the truth to him. When the time for choosing comes, pray he chooses mercy over murder.

There was something in his eyes that disturbs me. An imperceptible flash of malice… like fire within his dark eyes. Bhaal may have a foot hold, but one way or another… I will see that Billy is once again safely in the arms of Mercy. I am grateful to the many friends I have, for indeed they lend me strength they are unaware of. Together we can see this through. The important thing for now is that Billy is safe. Thank you, Mercy, for guiding my steps back to that campsite near the Keep over and over… For if I had not returned there… he may have remained lost to me. The sight of his peacefully sleeping countenance is such a boon to my spirit. My fragile hopes burn brightly again, no longer am I shadowed by so much doubt… There are still doubts, of myself, but at least now there is light enough to see such doubts easier.

Elrith’s mind is fragile, and easily overwhelmed. I have noticed in the past that conversations can befuddle her as she tries desperately to piece together things she feels she should know. I am not sure how best to help her but I fear if we do not get some answers soon and get a course of action set in motion… I cannot say from a healer’s standpoint that this is in the least healthy for her. I am starting to wonder what happened to the other victims. I fear this is nothing but a slow descent into madness if we do not return her memories to her soon. We helped her to the garden so she might seek rest.

I don’t know if it is a side effect or a defensive mechanism of her own mind, but she passed out and could not recall nearly an hour or more of conversation. Seemed as if her mind went back to the point immediately before she became confused. I shall take more care to not let my conversations not drag her into a chase of thoughts that are hard to grasp.

As I ready to finally sleep my thoughts are drawn to one final thing illustrated in a conversation among two friends. Two friends that in a different set of circumstances would not even be aware of one another… or would be enemies on opposite sides of something else. And yet here they stood in dawn’s gentle light each trying to lighten the other’s mood. The banter was light hearted but within it was a lesson. The teacher does learn from the student just as much as the student does from the teacher, though the lessons parallel one another, each takes from it what they must.

‘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.’

An old lesson… one of the first I learned in Trademeet. I stood there angrily hating the past, myself and so many things that I shook with rage. Then Iliara took my clenched fists and opened them, holding them to the sky and cupping them together. She smiled at my confused expression and let go of my hands saying only one thing before walking away:

‘It works better this way…’

And so the student has become the teacher… what lessons will she learn now? Time will reveal that when it sees fit to. Mercy is many things. Mercy today is patience… Always there is mercy in some measure, great or small in every part of life. Just as mercy, there is hope. In the end we need only seek them. There is Ever hope, mercy Always prevails and we Endure.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[SIXTY-SIXTH ENTRY]

I have taken a break from the stack of books at my feet. Nearly a dozen tomes not one small in size or content. The one I read of first talked of the many Hellish denizens. There was some general information on demons. I see one rather large tome which seems to focus on demonic rituals… perhaps there is a good place to start next. I wish I knew better what I was looking for. Blast it all! The monks delivered the first batch at Joan’s request. Told me when I had finished with these they would have a few more ready. Less than a tenday to learn what we can and find this demon. A demon! Of all the things we don’t need… more trouble. Seems the whole day has been one mishap to the next. My hopes seem to dangle from a dangerously thin thread, weighted more so by the doubts in my own heart.

Ilmater forgive this clumsy bloody fool. Blind I was, to that which lurked in the darkened corners. I have tried desperately to quell this unease in my own heart, to still the anger that has taken foothold unbidden. I look now over Billy… He sleeps so soundly… so deeply that it frightens me. What haunts his sleep so that he whimpers in such fear and anguish? I reach out to offer comfort to his small frame. His body wracked by unnatural fever. In the night passed I feared it this plague that has killed so many. Finally sleep found him, and his fever had seemed to quiet. I made my way down to the common room of the inn.

The last few days had seemed to do him much good. He had seemed to quiet, the malignant flash in his eyes had become absence. As we talked of peace, and of mercy, going over various lessons. I stressed that not all ‘heroes’ were born of blood and glory. I taught him of the Martyrs and Saints, I had begun to think that we were passed the worst of it… I had even planned to explain everything in the whole, all of it, to Billy after he woke and we had eaten breakfast.

A scream from upstairs chilled my cheerful thoughts, and I rose going to the stairs. The inn keep’s wife came down in a panic, sheet white and scared near to death.

‘it’s a Demon!’

She screamed and flew to her husband’s side, who looked on most worried. I was ready to rush up the stairs. The Bhaalists had after all, shown that they could summon frightful demons… I heard the others calling to me to wait… There was no time for me to reach the top step or for the others to try to stop me for Billy had stepped onto the landing a step or two above me.

‘Sister Merielle… I don’t feel so good…’

I wonder if time stopped in that moment? I know my heart had. I looked at this creature, bearing resemblance to Billy, holding his voice and my mind could not grasp what was going on. There he stood, a fever to rival the hells, skin blackened and scaled almost as if it had burnt… His eyes flashed red and a tail… A tail? How in the mercies is that possible? What was happening? My mind raced with prayers as I watched petrified as he vomited blood. Dearest Mercies! It was no plague… no… were that it could only be so simple as illness. The mark on his back had changed… still incomplete but dangerously close to being so. My mind screamed in disbelief as he recounted ’saving’ the ’see through’ man in black from a ’bandit’ and how he had ’done just as the small man had taught him’ and slit the knave’s throat. This was the first I had heard of this… Billy thought himself a hero of grand proportions.

How could I have not known? The small man? That bloody Halfling that I now know was indeed more than just an unsettling presence. The others talked of ripping him to shreds for what he had done. Of course the Bhaalists knew where he was. The Halfling who I can only guess is one of them or in league with them took me to where Billy had been. They had known where he was all along… granting me that small hope, seeing the Ilmatari symbol in Billy’s hand writing was nothing more than a means to torment me further… and now this. Dear Gods I have never known such anguish… The worst punishments of the Matron’s most skilled torturers paled in comparison. They spoke of killing the Halfling, and it was all I could do not to say:

‘Only if you beat me to him!’

For indeed in that moment my anger nearly consumed me… Images of violence I had not thought myself capable of conjuring played out in my mind’s eye in those briefest moments. I pictured destroying them all, of tearing down that temple brick for brick and calling down all the fury I could muster in a blaze of holy fire to consume the rubble left in my wake. To beat the Halfling cultists until that mocking smile was no more, to chase every one of them to the hells just to see them destroyed even in death. Ilmater forgive my wrath, I even wanted to face Bhaal… even if it killed me… to land even one blow… And now all I can do is beg forgiveness…

Forgive me for my failings… for not telling him the truth from the beginning. For thinking I could spare him some torment by hiding the dark nature of what plagued him. Ilmater forgive my foolish, misguided attempt at mercy… I may well have cost the boy everything… His very soul is in balance, and the fate of many rests on Billy’s fate. The mark is not final… there is still hope yes?

There is ever hope! There may yet be hope…

Divine intervention … or Mercy grant me strength… Death… can undo this.

‘…My most Favored…’

Ilmater… How can you favor one who has failed you so wholly? The boy has killed. Apparently the night before we found him. Now all that stands between hope and damnation is faith… and I question if mine is strong enough.

‘Whatever the cost…’

What cost? I would give of my very soul to save him… I love him as any mother would love a child, but I am not his mother… I am his guardian… His wellbeing was mine to hold… William forgive me, for I have failed you. Now I only pray this can yet be salvaged.

I tried prayers to make him feel better, for my herbal treatments and healing knowledge seemed to fail me. But that proved disastrous… It seemed to trigger some sort of innate defense… and summon forth demons to attack us. All the while poor Billy watched in fear, apologizing. He truly did not wish us harm, even more so, he did not wish to remain as he was. The excursions seemed to have exhausted him, and he curled up to sleep on the couch next to me, there in the inn. Was it that they could see Billy was not truly evil, not wholly lost to us that stayed the other’s hand? Or was it for my sake they did not seek to kill him? Divine intervention or death… It echoed through me every time I saw the looks in their eyes, and I feared they would seek the last resort option… For whatever reasons, they were content to help me try to find a way to solve this, and salvage Billy’s fate.

I fear though, that the faith they have in me is badly misplaced. It was then that Billy began speaking in a language I had not heard before. Only two in the room understood it, Emrys and the elf. The demon demanded we take Billy to the Bhaal temple so that he may be given to ‘His Lord.’ If we did not, he promised to kill Billy. As if the boy’s troubles were not numerous, and dire enough, now possession. Indeed likely no pittance demon either.

‘I cannot ask you to leave Merielle, just stay with him…’

Joan spoke as she looked over us both. Her words from earlier danced down my spine as I prayed desperately it would not come to that. I wholly understood her stand point:

‘If he becomes violent I will have no choice…’

I nodded even as desperate prayers ran through my mind… Mercy please… let it not come to that… The situation is dire… but not hopeless. Somehow mercy will prevail… it always does, it always has. I just wish I knew where to place my feet. My doubt cloud what is usually clear to me, and try as I might, I cannot dispel them wholly.

There was talk of trying to exorcize the demon. As I spoke of seeking wise priests, Brother Marcus, perhaps Brother Dracius… Brother Marcus was needed in Baldur’s Gate, and I feared Brother Dracius could not make the journey quickly enough. It was then that I noticed their eyes on me… and as he spoke, I felt so humbled I could not speak. He looked me so squarely in the eye as his words reached my ears, that I felt as though he was not across the room… but there, a breath’s distance from myself. Somehow his measured words reached my ears and my mind over my uproarious thoughts:

‘There is no shortage of priestly wisdom and might in this room.’

I countered. I knew so little of demons, I had only assisted on a few exorcisms… the last and most recent of which cost an innocent child his life and maybe even his soul… and it very well could have been much worse.

‘I know so little… one misstep could be deadly… not just to us… but to all of the keep or worse.’

‘Then -do not- misstep.’

His conviction in that simple statement astounded me. Who was I to garner such faith and inspiration of others? How could they feel me deserving of such. Look at what I had allowed to happen to Billy! There wasn’t time for me to be angry with myself for my folly… if the demon was to be believed, we had so very little time.

However… the trouble does not end there. There was a fight between the dark skinned elf, now without a doubt known to be a Drow. And the rather unhappy Elf… which soon drew Joan to act, though I am sure her actions will be questioned for a great long while. Joan asked the two to take the disagreement out of the inn… away from Billy because she feared, and rightly so I think, that exposing Billy to violence in his current state may only worsen the problem. The dark skinned elf seemed all too used to being called out and threatened. Something I suppose one such as he becomes used to. Even now my mind has trouble grasping the thought of a Drow who wishes to help any but himself.

Whatever his reasons and his methods, he does wish to help against the Bhaalists. Indeed the others trust him, and he has given me no reason not to… still, it is moment like the stand off that took place at the doorway of the inn that bid all caution. The badly scarred elf drew out his bow and notched an arrow as the other moved toward the door to leave the inn. He demanded the smaller elf remove his hood as anger shook his battered frame. He demanded Joan demand he remove his hood… Joan calmly demanded they both go outside to settle their dispute. Angrily he put aside his bow and proceeded to yank down Nymas’ hood. He drew a knife and lunged at the dark skinned elf. I rose from the couch as swiftly as I could without waking Billy, simultaneously reaching for my supply of bandages. I knew not who would draw whose blood, and there was little time to weigh options for in the time it took me to cross the room, the battered elf lay unconscious and badly bleeding.

I watched shocked as the Drow bent over the other trying desperately to mend the wounds of the one who wished him dead.

‘No! If this one dies…’

There is no greater mercy on the battle field than the mercy one extends to one’s enemy… There is no greater path to peace than the path through mercy. I stepped forward as Elrith screamed for me to help him. Gently I moved the shaking black hands aside and began tending the worst of the wounds. As he regained consciousness his anger was more than evident as he spat at Joan for ‘defending a Drow!’ Joan maintained that she sought only to keep the bloodshed to a minimum, that she had asked him to take his fight outside and away from Billy, and he had not complied thus forcing her to act as such. I wondered what the ill-tempered one would think if he had known it was the very Drow he had intended to kill had rushed without hesitation to draw him back from death.

Wythran insisted Joan was in the wrong regardless of her motivations… and I knew not where Nymas was, but he no doubt took time to distance himself from the place. The wounded elf tried to brush my efforts off.

‘I need to feel the pain… to see the scars… To remember.’

‘None know better the value of remembering greater than I sir… but you cannot remember if you are dead so hold still.’

He conceded to my stubbornness unwillingly and I worked to tend the worst of the wounds. Perhaps I should have been more concerned with the laws regarding Drow… Perhaps a lot of things should have been done differently… perhaps he will hold against me my words as I finished his stitches… But I care not. I did not care for the deep-seeded hatred of Drow. I did not care if this elf or any other held against me that he was here. Joan assured me that I was at fault for none of it, and the burden of blame lay wholly with her, after all it was she who was in charge. I did not even care of the eventual ramifications of the day. I had far greater worries.

I looked back over to Billy. I wanted to cry… to scream. On this young boy’s shoulders lay the weight of the fate of so many. Not just us, not just of the region, not just of Faerun… but possibly all of Toril. If Bhaal is allowed to use Billy… to finalize the ritual, to manifest in Billy as the physical avatar of the Lord of Murder… Not only would Billy be lost… not only would my failings be laid bare… but there would be nothing but death. Cold, cruel endless death and destruction for no other reason than they could do so. Indeed we have greater problems than the Drow…

We sat and we planned and schemed, trying to come up with some plan of action. My prayers for guidance continued to go unanswered. I fear that I have turned my god away from me. Rightly so. I failed in keeping Billy from killing… I failed in my oath to prevent it no matter the cost. I can only beg forgiveness knowing I have earned his wrath, and in the mean time cling to my hopes and my faith seeking some resolution in the best interests of all.

As the evening wore thin, so did my nerves. I felt my emotions at war… my mind at war with my heart, my heart at war with my faith, my soul in a war I did not understand, and it was wearing on me. When my mind was idle I found my heart weeping as prayers begging forgiveness rolled through my being. My own doubts and anger at myself draining my resolve, my strength. I put on a brave face for Billy’s sake when he woke. I fought to maintain hold of my composure for the sake of the others. Dawn came swiftly… its light almost cruel on my tired eyes. I do not think I have done more than nap since I stood at Ilmater’s feet. I had not eaten since our early dinner the day before Billy became ill with fever.

A sigh escaped me then… and as it did, my remaining strength fled me. I slumped into a chair my head resting on my hands and felt a shudder work through me. Forgive my failings… forgive my weakness… forgive my anger… Forgive this humble servant Ilmater, grant to me your mercy… your strength please my Lord I fear I cannot stand… I fear I haven’t the strength to do as you ask of me. The thoughts tumbled through me, rattled around by the shudder that had manifested of my own deep inner conflicts, and as I struggled to grasp hope so fleeting I feared it would fall through my fingers… How I feared that desolation… I worked desperately to keep my faith in perspective and draw strength from it…

I became aware of a comforting hand that gently stroked my hair. A small gesture of kindness that caught me off guard and stilled me to my core. Much to my surprise the face I turned to look to was that of the battered elf Wythran. Words fled me as I looked to this one who needed mercy far greater than I and yet he offered it to me instead. I was drawn to the depths of humility once again. He caught my gaze and moved away his expression a mix of emotions… he became transfixed on a stray hair that had come away as he removed his hand from my head. He nodded absently to Nymas as he approached. Nymas looked on in shock as he greeted him without malice. He looked at me and then back to Wythran.

‘What did you say to him?’

I shook my head, for I was wholly confused by what had just taken place, and I knew not what to think as I watched this tattered elf stare into his hand. I swear I saw him crying, and my heart wept for him. I knew not what trials he faced, but I prayed mercy find him, and Ilmater grant him strength.

‘Can you help him? There isn’t much mercy left in him.’

I looked to Nymas and back to Wythran.

‘I don’t know, but I will sure try…’

The rest of the evening was a blur lost behind a haze of my own rattled emotions. The green-clad wizard proposed a plan, rather intricate, to try to trick the demon with magic, and force it to leave Billy. I cannot help but fear that arcane magic would have the same or worse, effect than divine magics… further still… if it fails, and the demon is angered or worse… I cringe at the thought. Can a demon such as this be tricked? Too many questions with too few answers… I suppose I should get back to the books… for now things are quiet, Billy sleeps, and the chaos of the day has passed into uneasy silence. I should get through these books quickly too… Time reveals all mysteries, but for now it seems to work against us.

Mercy guide me… Mercy prevail… lead me back to the narrow path I must walk unwaveringly. Let me learn to grant myself the mercy of forgiveness if it is mine to find… Let me salvage that which my folly has nearly lost…I beg Ilmater, please do not turn away from this humble servant, though she may deserve such… spare me your wrath and grant me your mercy…
~~

[LeslieMS]

[SIXTY-SEVENTH ENTRY]

The hours pass in tedious procession, and while my knowledge on the topic of demons is indeed much greater than it was before. I grow frustrated because I have yet to find anything that might be pertinent to the situation at hand. I have widened my search to include anything on Bhaal and to also include any rituals that were connected in some way or another to the Hells. It is tiresome work, but a welcome distraction from sleep and the nightmares that assault me from behind my closed eyes.

Billy hardly wakes… Water turns to poison at his touch, any more effort than kind words fail miserably or incite malignant recourse that he neither asks for or can control. He does not eat, and still he fevers. I pray that whatever sustains him is Mercy-bound and not something more sinister. I watch as he seems to withdraw and wither before my eyes. Each time I find some faintly burning ember of hope, I must shield it from the onslaught of doubt and despair that now tumbles through my own thoughts. My prayers counter the worst of my doubts, but the fact that for the first time in years, those prayers seem unanswered, only adds to my disquiet. Have I fallen so far from the graces of my patron lord? Or do my doubts drown out his gentle voice?

The quiet of this place is maddening… gone is the solitary peace I found in the peace. Now I dread the silence as it gives my thoughts purchase. I plunge myself deep into the books the acolytes bring… turning each page with slow determination. Unwilling to let go of that last trace of hope, that somewhere within these books some sort of answer will present itself. There is still hope, there is still time… I must not let myself forget that.

My rambling musings are punctuated by the trickle of books, the inn keep insisting I at least try to eat. Thanks to Rai at least I am in no danger of running out of tea. There have also been several messengers today, regarding the business that lead to a great deal of unpleasantness. I pray Mercy finds all involved… That Joan does not lose her place here is gladdening to my heart. Now what shall become of things in the future… In the meantime I have set aside enough tea for two… should the future present such an opportunity. I also hope that the opportunity to try and help the Night Hunter… though what it is I must do… Help him find mercy that he denies himself? Help him look past his anger? To hone his hatred into a greater weapon…?

‘To try to help him overcome his anger?’ I had asked…

‘Not overcome… control…’ Had come the answer…

Perhaps transform it to something grand… something without malice… to replace fanatical hatred with unwavering devotion to one’s cause… That is a goal I can aspire to in time… In time.

In a moment when time does not turn so readily against us…

I have not felt so lost in a very long time… I had forgotten what it felt like to stumble forth unsure of one’s footing… And in spite of my recent failings… the others view me no differently. Indeed they have lent me strength when I find myself weak. Time and time again of late, I hear my own words return to me in the kind voices of friends. All things in time, Mercy does prevail… and I… I have a great deal of work to do. By the mercies… I will not lose Billy in this. I will see things set right one way or another. In the mean while my prayers remain constant and hopeful. If there is redemption to be earned, then I will, but for now I must find a way to help Billy.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[SIXTY-EIGHTH ENTRY]

Life should not be measured from one disaster to the next… it should be measured in the number of blessings one has, or at least the number of times one loses count of those blessings because they are too numerous. Seems I may do both, often simultaneously. Careful tight control of dangerous emotions is not always enough to keep one’s thoughts well hidden behind carefully chosen words.

My dreams and my spirit in turmoil, I find a way to continue on. I endure… such is the nature of things… such is my place. My steps are far more careful these days… caution dances with doubt as I fear every misstep. Indeed, there seems many of late. These dear and true to me, devoted to my cause, to my convictions… dare I say to me? And what have I done to earn such? What do they see that rallies them to the cries for mercy I seek? I would like to think they see mercy itself. Mercy… Mercy which I act in ever and unwavering… Caused a debacle today with Emrys’ demon, which now seems my burden for the time being. For it was mercy that kept me from speaking of my suspicions since the demon was cast away. I chose to endure the burden in silence. Well now the demon seeks to further his torment of Emrys, and somehow I will not allow this.

Though if this demon servant thinks to remain my burden, he will be disappointed. When my will is weakened, my allies are strong, my friends more dear and more numerous than I dare count… stand in my stead… lend me their strength freely… and in the end… It is naught but desperate parlor tricks. This demon will not remain, nor will he be allowed to torment much longer. For now my resources are divided, but with all this research on demons and the Hells… I will find a way to usurp this serpent from his imagined throne… and he will harm no other. On one hand I am relieved that it has nothing to do with other troubles, and on the other hand this does leave me fighting on two fronts… for now. I do not stand alone…

The worth of those surrounding me… an admirable thing to behold. Most of the events are a blur to me, but at one point it was believed Billy in danger. Rai… Mercy bless her most of all, sought to take him to safety… Due to the tricks of the fiend… Managed to take off with my cloak and a pillow… And Billy never left the safety of the couch, or his deep slumber. It seems he was never truly in danger… Still, I marvel at the merit in her actions. Truly, does she seek change? Even as the chaos of the day waned and she returned obviously angry, she did not drink as she did last time. No she tossed her flask to the flames, choosing instead fresh fruit to quell her need for sweet tastes. Dare I allow myself to fan that hope that she may yet truly change? Does mercy indeed work within the depths of her heart?

There was talk of the demon that is entwined in Billy’s fate. I dabble on the hope that the end of this tenday, fast approaching, is nothing more than a weighted but Idle threat. After all what purpose would be served to his lord, to Bhaal, to his faithful… if any harm came to Billy? A bluff? A gamble? Can I afford the wager? I pray I need not play such a risky hand. Billy is in such a fragile state. He cannot eat, he cannot drink… He sleeps… a sleep so steeped in pain and trouble that it elicits pleading murmurs from his transformed figure… despite his looks on the outside… in there is that dear young boy… And by the mercies, he has endured so much… to ask him to endure further breaks my heart to its core. And yet he endures. His strength is unmatched, and when he is again safely in the arms of mercy… Well He will not be let go of. I will see to that.

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

And after so much searching… I find another clue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Renewed I looked on the final book. An imposing thing, large and bound in black leather. A title scratched into the leather reads ‘A Journey Through the Lower Planes’

To my horror the pages seem to be that of skin… the thought chills me as my hand turns the pages… Skin… -Human- Skin? I put the book down quickly, and instead distract myself with some more tea and converse with Emrys for some time. It wasn’t until the inn quiet, and all sense of jovial conversation had long since faded that I looked to the book again. My debate became one of this:

To sleep and face the horrors of my own mind… or delve into the mad rantings of a mage who decided a sojourn through the depths of the Multiverse was a grand idea… Both prospects equally terrifying… but only one of them would be useful. After all, sleep is something I avoid anyway… It has only been a few days since my last extended nap… I think I rested nearly four hours on that couch, Billy sleeping close by. And just the night past I slept nearly an hour… May as well read… at least terrifying information is more useful than terrifying nightmares. Prayers on my lips and resolve to find a way to help Billy… I think I can begin this task… I pray it shall be fruitful.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[SIXTY-NINETH ENTRY]

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

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

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

‘Hello again my child…’

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

‘Ilmater!’

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

‘Come sit, tell me what troubles you… Unburden yourself to me.’

‘My troubles… my lord… my own failings…’

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

‘Failings? How so?’

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

‘Should I have acted differently to protect Billy better? He… Killed.’

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

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

‘Is he alright? And I know of his transformation, but is he okay?’

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

‘He is … Safe… I have not left his side. He sleeps…’

‘Then how is it you have failed?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Find the answers you seek. They will come to you… Have Faith.’

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

‘This…’

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

‘This Jhaalza’lyrm the Ravenous, he is your problem now, correct?’

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

‘The one who speaks through Billy?’

‘Yes. The Lord of Murder’s pet. The Balor.’

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

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

‘Do I face this pet? If you will it, I will do so.’

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

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

‘You honor me my Lord.’

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

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

‘A grand gift. I shall seek to do so Ilmater.’

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

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

The day passed in an interesting mix of pleasant company, unpleasant company… and a mix of events. The demon spoke through Billy again, though aside from more idle threats, the content of his message were lost in translation. No matter. As if we should care for his words… this Balor pet. Billy is strong, and his love for us who are dear to him is proving a powerful weapon against this demon. Together, we will defeat this foul thing. At least now I rest in assurance that he cannot actually kill Billy… though I fear what torments he can draw on the boy in the mean time.

I fear invoking its name, since I know not how these rules apply differently to one such as he. Though I am starting to think the reason Billy cannot eat or drink is of the demon’s doing. I also think the demon may be the cause of his unnatural fever, and acidic tears that fall from his eyes. Once I am sure how best to confront the demon, I will do so, hopefully in my own time and soon, for I do not want to be unprepared. I will see he cannot harm Billy one way or the other. I must work quickly and learn as much as I can. I worry now, with this knowledge that facing the demon in his home plane via the mirror may be unwise. Still if we must, I pray we go prepared.

Billy is still that gentle child I love so dearly, despite how others look to him now… on the inside he is a boy with more strength and courage than I knew any could possess. Indeed he is stronger than even I. He is bored, but much exertion exhausts him quickly. He begs for food and drink, and my heart breaks that he can have none. His temper is tenuous thing. I fear letting it go unchecked. I tried to explain to him why he was safer to sit still, and while he obliged my wishes, I could tell he did not wish to. The third time, I have been called his mother. He smiled at me then as Val said it, and I could not help the height that my heart soared to as he grinned at me. I was saved causing him further disappointment as he fell asleep with his head in my lap.

After a time I found myself once again alone with my thoughts. However my mind was not very good company and I longed to stretch my legs. So Ilmater granted me another small mercy. I took Billy upstairs and placed him in the room next to Emrys. The boy and the room were then heavily warded, with a strength I did not possess alone.

I was wary of travel, especially alone, but I trusted the hand at my back, and after a few prayers, made my way out of the keep. I had thought to travel north, maybe visit the temple. I missed Dianne and the others terribly. I wondered too why there had been no word from the others in the city. Were my letters getting through, or were they being intercepted? I prayed mercy kept them in safe arms and traveled onward

It wasn’t long after leaving, that I regretted the decision to travel northward, for it seems the enemy lay in patient wait, and hungered for my death and blood. I may have been knocked out once or twice, but I found myself standing at the end of each wave of attack. Rai showed up, and while we could have made it northward… I chose to turn back south. I feared getting north, and not being able to get back south. The ghost of the black-robed fiend made an appearance again, and another battle ensued which left nearly all dead. We were given the chance to leave. Live to fight another day. That cemented in my mind that Billy was safe, for indeed if they thought they could get to him, I doubt I would be in one piece enough to write in these pages now. After pleading with the others to not let arrogance and ego rule the moment, entreating prudent patience, for we were few and on dangerous ground. By luck or divine grace, they fell earlier just outside of the reach of the curse that keeps me from recalling their souls to fallen bodies…

I paced the rest of the night along the beach, and was mostly uneventful and alone. I made use of the solitude and vermin. After all, the earlier encounter had proven to me that if I am to protect those in my care, and face the dangers ahead, I could ill afford to neglect my training in battle. Though others do not understand my oath not to draw a weapon I know the weight of my blows as the land on my foes.

As the evening wore on, I found myself offering comfort to a grieving heart. To see mercy find those so unused to it. To see them question everything that they had built on their hatred, their righteous crusades in the name of vengeance and prejudice, is a beautiful sort of heartbreak for it is in this that they begin the path to the steps of Mercy’s way. To take the first steps in forgiving themselves that they may seek forgiveness… to continue down the right paths for the right reasons without the color of wrath. -All- deserve the mercy of a second chance, and sometimes the hardest mercy of all to achieve and hold onto is the mercy that one must offer to themselves… To forgive themselves… to make right that which they feel they have left at odds. The journey is never easy, but that which is worth the effort never is.

Hard lessons are learned, and we grow from the trials we face. Life is the learning, the growing, the experience, the sum of which in the end defines us… The choices we face are no easier than the choices we have made… and while our steps may not always fall on soft ground. We walk our paths as we should. May Mercy, Faith and Hope, perhaps even love… guide us as we walk. May it be our light as we tread the darkest spaces, for indeed we battle great foes. Ourselves, the dark hatreds of the Multiverse, demons, gods, and enemies not yet known… And as we walk, we must make ready our very souls… for indeed Many souls now hang in the balance.

We shall endure, we shall prevail. In the End… there is only Mercy in one form or another. Mercy Prevails.
~~

[LeslieMS]

// Another Late entry due here soon darlings. In the mean time, I attempted to fix some of the spelling issues, as well as some entry mis-numbering, and tweaked it for readability as requested.

Thanks for putting up with a zillion afks and other disasterous type things.

Thanks as always to the staff and dms for keeping boredom at bay.

Thanks to the players, good guys, bad guys and all the ones in between.

I can honestly say I haven't had this much in a while. May be a roller-coaster/disaster/horror/drama/almost romance movie-type story but I am loving it!

Thanks for letting me tag along and shamelessly exploit rp for creative writting so that I may further amuse myself =P .

Leslie //

[LeslieMS]

[SEVENTIETH ENTRY]

'Walls of stone do not heal the sick, gilded halls do not mend broken spirits.'

The day was quiet. In some moments painfully so. I poured through my study of the dark tome. Best I can tell the poor magus was mad before he began his journey. There are useful bits here and there, describing the skill and countering of some of the beasts found in that deep place. But to say it is cryptic is to give it more understandability than it should garner. The subject matter is as disturbing as the tome itself. The more I study these pages I swear they are of human skin. I find myself stopping in my reading, whispering a prayer. As I struggled to grasp what information may have been in a particular troubling passage on an attack by some sort of demon, a familiar face came in.

Any attempt to pass conversation with Esen was met with words that sounded insincere or distant. I was unsure the cause of his foul mood, but decided it best to leave it be. I had no wish for another shouting match and he had stated quite clearly:
‘I did not come here to see you Merielle.’

Sometimes I wish I better understood his foul moods and what spurns him to such discontent. When he chose to take up the mantle of mercy, I thought perhaps such a path would lead him to content and quell some of his negativity. Its seems I was wrong.

Puzzled by his harsh demeanor, and disquieted by my reading, I made sure that Billy was resting comfortably and decided to take a bit of a walk. My steps carried me to that peaceful place overlooking the cliff rocks just outside the keep gates. Aside from the remarkable view, the place offers a strange sense of solitude and comfort. Though one is hardly alone there. For the most part the bandits and the ogres stay well enough away.

‘Whisper to me, your sorrows that I may carry them from you.’
Comes the voice of the salty breeze.

The surf below beckons:
‘Give me your tears, and I shall swallow them that you will think on them no longer.’

The whole of the place embodies mercy. The warmth of the sun or the gentle wash of moonlight, as though the ground itself offered a comforting embrace. The strength of the waves, the endurance of the rock beneath. Even as the wind and waves wear them down, the rocks stand solid, knowing the wind and water will only teach them to adapt to it. For even as they wear away to sand… they ride the waters, and endure further as they build up the beaches and seabed. That which we face shall ever teach us, strengthen our faith and resolves. Never in all my learning, have I seen the point so beautifully illustrated. Nature is a splendid gift. One need not be Elven, or druidess, Bowman or hunter to appreciate the simple elegance of such a thing. I have sought meditation and prayer there in that place. In a way, a temple in and of itself. Careful to find sure footing, it is a good place to bring one’s being back into alignment. To draw the mind and body back to the spirit… To find some measure of peace in a time of strife.

I stood a long while, listening. My heart open and my mind still, the quiet sunset and the sounds of surf and gull the only thing that touched my ears at first and the sound of footsteps. Before I had time to look up he spoke saying that someone so important as I should not stand so close to the edge lest I fell. I turned to face him not sure what to say exactly. I was a bit surprised by such a statement. I a humble healer. A simple woman of no great means.
‘Yes a ‘healer’ ‘ came his reply.

What had I done to garner his spite I wondered? And yet with everything I spoke he had a retort. He spoke of jealousy. Jealous? Of me?! Honestly. I was completely unable to see where he would come to that conclusion. I, who was plagued by vengeful gods, ill spirits, beset by demons among a host of other things. I did not understand until he next spoke of Ilmater. That the Crying God did not appreciate his service. I thought to reassure him, but again was countered with harsh words. The Broken One appreciates all who suffer or serve, all who offer comfort in his name. Yet he felt ignored.

Emrys came over then, and even he was snapped at. I shook my head, and could find no words that would not fuel his discontent so I chose silence. He turned as though he meant to leave.

‘Will you be traveling back to the temple?’

He answered yes, and I fished the small doll I had gotten for Dianne. I had stuffed it with sweet smelling herbs and comforting a potpourri of flowers and asked him to give it to her. He took the doll and then asked why I did not travel to the temple myself. He grew angry as I explained Billy’s state. At least I think it was anger, though to what I did not ask, dared not. It made him more upset in any case, though it may have been out of frustration or sadness at Billy’s plight. I find it hard to determine the nature of his moods, almost as impossible as understanding them. He also seemed upset that I had uncovered more information. He had looked tirelessly through the libraries for information on Bhaal and his rituals finding so little. He grew upset further when I explained that it had actually been more prayer and guessing on my part. That it was unsafe to travel, and a course of action had not yet been laid before me that was both feasible and compliant to Ilmater’s advice.

He spoke of himself as ‘dead weight’ and in a wave of his hand and a flurry of arcane energy he was gone from sight. His final words aggravated me. I had not spoken ill of him, and did not intend to. As he vanished from my sight, his disparity evident I screamed at the wind:

‘Stubborn Fool!’

I know not if he heard me, but nor did that matter. Were all men subject to such wild presumptions? I had never shown him anything but kindness, extended him the benefit of the doubt and sought to look past his temper and his erratic moods, but Mercy of Mercies! He tried my patience to the very limits of what I possess. I know not how to help in this, and it seems my attempts are falling to the wayside, rendering them useless. May mercy find him… Reach through whatever thickness is in his skull and heart, for I cannot.

I took care of some business at the keep. I need to buy bandages, but no merchant has a supply of them at present. With the Halflings in need of aid, this sickness rampant, bandages are in short supply. I shall leave word for the sisters to send along some bandages and other supplies from the temple stores when next I write the temple. For now… as frustrating as it is, I shall continue to read, to wait, to watch and seek answers to that which yet remains unclear to us.

We wait, we endure, we shall stand unwavering in our faith, and Mercy will prevail, for there is ever hope…
~~

[LeslieMS]

[SEVENTY-FIRST ENTRY]

I think perhaps some lessons of the past are yet incomplete, as it seems the past keeps finding a way to rear its ugly head. The day passed nicely enough, with pleasant conversation, and over all pleasant company. I was even convinced there was time for a bit of drawing, as we passed time, drinks and conversation. I had nearly forgotten how well drawing helps me keep my hopes focused. Indeed as the time passed along, I found Billy and Dianne’s laughing faces playing behind a small cottage on a hilltop. In my heart, I knew the house was mine, as was the joy that seemed to fill the empty space of the drawing. A pleasant thought… I would do whatever needed to secure that as more than passing hope.

The day continued at a slow, simpler pace. I found myself fighting the calm that was now seeking foothold in my being. Part of me feared being caught off guard, part of me dreaded being disappointed by what would undoubtedly fail to last. I think even some part of me felt selfish for it. Still I found myself falling into that calm state that comes from drawing. To be at ease with both the good and the bad.

Mr. Angrius asked to speak with me at my convenience, and I was glad to oblige. Emrys had already told of the rather unpleasant business involving that Halfling and Rai. In the last few days I have found myself wondering of her motives… was she trying and falling by the wayside. Did she need direction? Or had she no intention of seeking a new path to begin with? But it seems in light of all of that, Mr. Angrius had grown curious as to what threat Billy was to the keep itself, and wished to better understand his plight.

After a recounting of the important facts, omitting certain facts that would pose a greater danger known as to unknown, he smiled. He pledged his sword and his life to me… I told him not to promise to me, that which was not mine to take. After all, he had a family, and service to Tyr. I refused his oath, not out of disrespect, but simply because I hadn’t the heart to ask such a thing of anyone, even if freely given. Sufficing it to be left at whatever aid we required, I smiled. It is not I, who needs such things, but Billy. It is not my cause and mine alone, for indeed all face the brink of the weight of this. It is a war between gods, a plot for one to draw death and destruction to the realms, and the will of one that it not come to pass. The Gods test us, and each will come to face the weight of their own answers.

There was more time for peaceful rest, and I found the drawing nearly complete as the daylight began to fade. Esen approached with a letter and dropped it in my lap practically before turning to go. I wanted to thank him for bringing it to me, and thought I could read the letter by the cliff face. I stepped out of the gate, my mind made up.

However I walked out the gate only to be grabbed and thrown back in, one single word echoed in my mind: Drow!

I gathered my balance back to me as the others came to see what was going on. Esen fell back through the gate very badly wounded. He likely knocked on Death’s very door, but as I worked on his wounds he regained consciousness long enough to state that there was a very powerful Drow outside the gate. The others quickly went out to face this threat… A Drow? At the keep, in daylight? Granted night was close, but still… The implications danced through my mind as I got Esen on his feet again.

‘He said he was here to claim a prize. Go check on Billy.’

I will be honest I only vaguely heard his words as he finished the word go, my mind had already seen his path and I rushed to the inn. I don’t think I drew proper breath until I had gone up and seen him well, and come back down the steps. Esen stood there, and I told him Billy was safe.

‘Good’

He began about how maybe Billy wasn’t in danger to begin with. About how popular I was, and already I felt my own frustrations rising.

‘I am not going to have this argument with you again Esen. Thank you for the letter.’

‘Thank you for the healing.’

I nodded and whispered a blessing making my way out. Why must he insist on making this about me? Why must I be the center of so much?

‘Not so special? Not many get to sit before a god.’

I countered of course, that the gods speak to many. After all one only needs be willing to listen. To be still and wait, show them we are willing to listen, and indeed they will speak. Not to so much an extreme degree as some, but they speak. Frustrated with his attitude and wondering what had become of the others I left the gates of the keep, looking around warily. The others were well, but had lost the Drow.

I turned to the cliff, thinking to steal a moment’s peace and prayer even in the company of the others.
Bloody irritating fool that he is!

I had not realized I had spoke my thought aloud until an answer from behind sent a chill down my spine and clenched my fists ready for a battle. I jumped to the side and back from the edge of the cliff as the thick accent reached my ears and words familiar to me, that I did not enjoy hearing in such a context.

‘Xas all Kivvil are.’

There he stood looking rather smug. Some glint in his eyes that I dared not try to place… But there in that smirk was hatred I was all too familiar with. There was scarce time to react, and what little time there was I found my mind sluggish, my actions weighted by a whirlwind of past sensations I thought well behind me. Fortunately for me, the others saw him as well. My blood chills to ice that would make Auril envious at the thought of my own foolish actions placing me back in the hands of Matron Baenund. No it may be unrelated… it may be some other thing that motivates this Drow… but can I ignore the possibility that the Matron wishes the return of her favorite tool? The words of the assassin that had killed the Thayan came to mind then.

‘My Matron… I bring you a prize.’

A prize. As much as you may hate it Meri dear… you must mind your steps and your actions. I chided myself... As much as I hate to admit it… I -am- the center of far too much attention… Gods how I wish for peace… for a moment when I need not both hands and half my toes to number my troubles…

There was a battle, and I feared I hadn’t the skill to keep them from the doors of Death. It seemed only one Drow, but his battle prowess was frightening, still could one Drow have fallen so many? I was stitching on the run, screaming prayers over the din of metal on metal and bursts of energy, arcane and divine. Just as I feared I hadn’t the skill to keep them all standing long enough to fight the elf whose skin was as black as his heart… Things went quiet. It seemed our foe had fled… I was left to wonder why. I mended the wounded, tending my own pains as we gathered in front of the gates of the keep. The others thought to move north and hope to catch sight of the Drow again. I offered them the blessings of Ilmater to keep them safe and made my way back to the inn. The night passed in deep and troubling thoughts. I read through the large book about the lower planes again. Eventually exhaustion overtook me and I found my way into a troubled sleep, steeped in shadows of the past.
~~

[LeslieMS]

///just wanted to say thank you in advance for the interesting night.

Had fun, the good and the bad... can't wait to see what happens next!

The journal entry will likely take a while to write up, and be late.

=)

///

[LeslieMS]

[SEVENTY-SECOND ENTRY]

Mercy walks with me… But the Fates conspire against me. So far my good graces and a large amount of prayer has saved me. No one said the task before me was simple… and as I sought Nymas on the beach, I knew the risk I was taking. Some times the over-protective good intentions of such dear friends, works against me. “No matter the cost…” The weight of those words come to bear as I pace the small room in the Feldpost Inn. It nearly cost me my life, quite possibly may yet still, and the length and breadth of my freedom is yet to be seen. It cost me one friend this day. Rage and prejudice trumps reason and the need to act for the greater good. Gods what a narrow path we walk.

Cat and I talked on the beach as the morning passed to noon, and by the time Nymas had found me… the others had come looking for me, and I could not shake Cat’s want to keep me safe from my ‘Trusting heart.’ What would have served best as quiet chat between the two of us, turned into a gathering on the brink of disaster. We tread on careful movements and delicately chosen words. I could see in Nymas’ eyes that he knew as well as I, that there was no stepping away from the others without arousing more suspicion. For the moment they did not pay mind to his bloodline, and we were allowed to whisper between us the more important information. I handed him a parchment with the demon’s name on it as we discussed the nature of the ritual we must perform. Curiosity is a dangerous thing…

It was inevitable curiosity that drew the others to the things we discussed. The tenuous balance we held there was shattered by a single word: Drow.

Blades were drawn and tempers soared. No longer was I a faithful servant seeking to withdraw a demon from doing further harm to Billy, but a corrupted woman consorting with Drow to summon devils. Try as I might I could not make Elrith and Cat see reason. The weight of the things before me were much greater than Drow, or law or anything. Indeed if we all fail none of that matters. No one would be safe, not those that dwell in the dark bowels of Faerun, not those of the surface. Not man, woman, child, elf, dwarf, human, beast or plant, monster or otherwise, would survive the wrath of the Lord of Murder. All we know would be lost. And the fools care only to protect their books, or continue their petty prejudices! Sometimes the short sightedness of others is trying.

Even so, despite my words, Cat’s rage grew. I prayed. I knew what was coming and knew not how to stop it.

‘May your God grant you Mercy!’

I watched the whole thing in slow motion as those who turned on us faced those who stood with us still. An unseen hand placed in mine a number of bandages… I prayed. I maintained my stance even as pain wracked me. I think the pain in my heart was greater than that of her blades. I tried to help the others. No one could be blamed… I was saddened. Short sided as it were, they acted on what they know. Indeed most Drow are evil corrupters, creatures bound by ill will and dark intent. I dodged Cat’s blows as they fell and pleaded that they stop. Through a blur of tears I saw the others fall. I whispered one last prayer before blackness overtook me:

‘Ilmater forgive me… Forgive them…’

Somewhere in the blackness I heard Elrith plead that I not be killed, and as I fell deeper into darkness I felt my soul weep. Things went so quiet… so still… for a moment there was only nothingness. A white-hot flash of pain. I clung to it, clawed at it… followed the pain of my body willing my spirit to its place.

‘Let me endure. I cannot waver. I cannot fail. My work is not done… My oath.’

Desperately I sought purchase in consciousness. I felt hands working to bandage my wounds. My soul shuddered, or was that my wounded body? Did it truly matter? I heard voices through a fog… as though the sound was coming from a great distance in a storm. I let go of the pain grasping at the voices. Slowly I became aware of the earth beneath me. I opened my eyes to see Elrith and Ian kneeling over me.

‘It is good to see you yet draw breath.’

His whisper was barely heard over the roar in my ears. Elrith still worked to mend my wounds, which were indeed grave. Pain had fled me and it was not by will, but shock. I struggled to make sense of my thoughts. What had happened? I raised slowly up from the ground. A violent shudder worked through me as my head spun. I pushed away the blackness that threatened to over come me then.

I looked about. Cat was gone. Elrith was frantic, the others were upset. Nymas and Anderick lay dead. I pushed myself away from the ground as a prayer fled my lips. Barely aware of the conversations going on around me I approached the two. Whatever the cost? The cost should not be the lives of those who stand in my defense. I felt tears on my face as I prayed, working the needle through the flesh to close the wounds. I was not aware of the sobs that ran through me. Blast it all!

Must hate drag us down at every turn! I finished tending Anderick and turned to Nymas.
The others helped Anderick to his feet. I heard Elrith tell me not to help the Drow as I knelt next to him. I did the best I could. Mended his torn form and prayed that life return to him. At last he had begun to draw shallow breath but he did not wake… So near to death…

I felt my strength flee me and fell to the ground. Wounds still tender, I mended the worst of them as a Helmite approached. I recognized him, but his name escaped me. He asked what happened, and I answered him. My words slow and deliberate. At least not all held petty differences over the threat of a vengeful god. I watched Nymas from the corner of my eye and frowned. He still did not stir.

‘Mercy keep you friend… do not give up on our task yet Nymas.’

Then things got more complicated. A Fist officer approached. I laughed cynically as a thought came to mind:

‘The sins of the faithful…’

I knew the laws on Drow. I also knew the weight of my oath. The one called Jade… so called for his skin… It could be worse, I remember thinking. It could be Dredd. Mercy finds me even in that small measure I supposed. Still I have heard what happens to those -kind- to the Drow and worry tugged at my mind. He asked I come with him, and slowly I rose to do so. Yet again I found myself walking the road from the Keep to the Fist Head Quarters. This time however, there was no bindings, I was not gagged. The walk was slow and quiet, leaving me to my thoughts. I prayed. I knew that I could not waver, even if it meant my doom.

‘Ilmater… dare I even need ask…? You know my heart and my path… Guide my words and my steps… Lend me your strength in what may yet come to pass.’

We passed the Bhaal temple, and I wondered at the silence. Did they hope that the laws of men would remove me for them? Did they laugh and scheme at my demise already planning to snatch Billy away? I looked to Maximus who had joined our walk and asked what was wrong. I had answered his questions as we walked. I laughed inside behind my thoughts. When had I become so cynical? Ha! I face angry gods, dire curses, demons, ghosts of my enemy, watch all around me fall and crumble only to rebuild it and stand, and now here I walk to face penance for doing what I must. It is said that devotion is the undoing of many faithful. To face punishment for a law that will hardly save anyone should we fail… Indeed I laughed. How I managed not to laugh aloud must have been the Hand of Mercy, for if I had, no doubt they would have thought me fallen into madness, if they did not already.

I expected to be marched to a cell… to my surprise I was led up a flight of stairs and not down. Jade said he was going to find Lt. Kren because he would better understand things. I had forgotten he was now a member of the Fist. I waited for what seemed an age. Coming from the street below I could hear the clamor. I could not help but smile and count my blessings. Even in this, so many loyal and dear friends. Finally Maximus and Myhun joined me breaking me from my thoughts.

‘Merielle just tell us what happened.’

I looked from Maximus as he spoke to Myhun and folded my hands upon the table before me.
‘Nymas was telling me how to force the demon out of Billy and contain it so we can destroy it. The others think prejudice is a more pressing matter than a God killing everyone, and they attacked. I did not bring harm to them, and raised who I could. Now I am wondering how I can keep an oath to -My- god if I cannot stay out of too much trouble.’

I waved my hand in frustration as Myhun spoke his accent forcing me to concentrate over the pain that still throbbed through me.
‘Nymas? The Drow? I know of him.’

‘Yes that Drow. He has been helping me since before I knew he was Drow. With Ilmater’s blessing he will continue to help me still because it is what must be done.’
I was surprised by how calm I was. How even my tone was. I kept expecting someone to start screaming of Drow and corruption and kill me where I sat, in truth. Instead Maximus looked at me and spoke just as evenly.

‘Can’t allow that.’
I leveled my gaze at him, flattening my hands on the table before me and refolding them. Must this truly be a question of race and law when the lives of so many, and the soul of an innocent child were at stake? Did they truly think it mattered?

‘The Drow are known for their trickery and treachery…’
He began a lecture I had little patience for, and perhaps it was this, and a sharp stab of pain as I tried to draw breath that sharpened my tone as I regarded the two men.

‘Then we will leave the keep and pray Billy does not fall into the hands of the Bhaalists before we can dispel the demon.’
My frustration grew as I looked at Maximus, his jaw slack as he looked at me in shock.
‘I know the Drow very well sir and what they are capable of. You need not preach to me their methods and ways!’

‘Well Sister if you think he can help you then maybe I should.’
My eyes narrowed and Myhun bid me calm. I took a slow breath wincing at the pain it caused and calmed myself. He was right, anger served nothing here, deserved or otherwise… anger would only undo all we have worked for.

A sigh escaped me as I spoke slow and evenly, praying this time they would understand.
‘Do you not understand that this is bigger than race sir? That if we do not complete this ritual that we all may perish at the Lord of Murder’s behest?

‘Sorry but I can see it no other way. Drow are not to be trusted, and you trusting him brings this one close to the keep. Understand that Drow threaten to attack the keep, and you are bringing one close.’

‘He has not stepped foot in the keep since I found out he was Drow.’

‘I told you last night that I must protect the keep First and Foremost. That is my sworn duty.’

‘Were there anyway for me to see my task, -my duty- done, I would. But when Ilmater says ‘No matter the cost’ he means it, and I took that oath.’

‘You think a Drow fighter can summon a demon?’
‘He has the means to understand that which I could not.’

‘No he does not. He is blinding you. There is no magic in him.’

‘This does not require he have magic.’

Blast the frustrations of narrow minds! And how did he know Nymas a fighter with no grasp at the arcane? How am I to work as I must if I must pound my way through the stone walls of thick skulls? Lord of the Rack, give me any manner of torture than to deal with such -ignorance-! Forgive my thought Ilmater… an extra hand of patience may be yet required in this. I studied Maximus and Myhun. Maximus looked dubious, as though he were watching some mad ranting, and I could hardly blame him… Once upon a time I thought all Drow naught but ill intent. Still Nymas, given the chance has proven himself many times over, and not just to me. This shadow of defiance acts out against his own kind, and seeks the betterment of all. He stands alone, and with me and Ilmater, with our allies, in the face of Bhaal. I must commend him for his bravery. If only others could see what lay beneath his ‘pale complexion’ that he is so proud of. See through the heritage that courses through his veins…

Myhun remained impartial, his expression unreadable. His tone was even and unemotional as he looked at me and spoke.
‘A question Merielle.’

I nodded and waited for him to ask.
‘This Nymas, you are basing your all claims on what he has said?’

I wanted to laugh. The absurdity of such a thought! My tone was even, measured. I was as sure of my words as I was my task and my faith.
‘No. I am basing it on what Ilmater has said. Never have I acted outside of his guidance, nor will I.’

‘I am sure he did not mean trusting an evil Drow.’

‘I am not trusting an evil Drow.’

‘You think he can help you? Why not turn to a priest?’

‘I do not think, I know. I did not turn to a priest because none were willing or capable. I -am- the priest to perform this…’

I knew not how to reach through the depth of his skull and feared it indeed was constricting proper thought somehow. How could they be so blinded to this? That Nymas is the only other with such knowledge and required that I and the others do not fail. He is as vital to this as each other. Ilmater does not bid me turn away any based on anything but deed.

The banter between Maximus and I continued for some time, as we debated the merits and worth of one Drow versus the folly of an entire race. Myhun even entered the debate. I understand what they mean, how they feel, why the laws are in place, but in truth Nymas deserves none of it… Those who do not see him as Drow at first find him likable, trustworthy and noble enough. Then they learn of his blood and hate him. How that must weigh on his soul… and yet he does not turn away from what he feels is right. Such devotion to his cause… dare I say I respect him for it?

‘I will not waver. I cannot. Think what you will, but it is not a Drow who seeks to sacrifice a seven year old child to the Lord of Murder. I am only doing what I must.’

‘A Drow is not the only alternative. You should seek the council of Ilmater. I know his intent would not be such.’

‘I -have- the council of Ilmater.’
The irritation evident in my voice I am sure. How dare he sit there and presume to tell me the will of My God! How dare he tell me he knows Ilmater’s thoughts on the matter? My task and my oath, my actions guided by the very Hand of Mercy! The very voice of Ilmater himself! And he looks at me and bids me seek council of my god! The roll of conversation was lost on me as I sought control of my thoughts. I drew peace in that I had acted rightly, and garnered no disfavor from Ilmater. If I spoke, or they spoke in that span of moments, the words had fallen from my mind. My focus regained as Maximus looked to me then.

‘You are saying you are going to remain using his help.’

‘If I must.’

‘Then the Fist will jail you.’

‘As I said there is more at stake than heritage.’

‘Think Merielle. If you are here where is Billy? Ilmater would not tell you to summon a demon with a Drow. I am sorry but as you say your god guides you… Tyr. Tyr would never.’

I shook my head. Mercy please! I beg you open their eyes!
‘I fear greatly for Billy. This is perilous, and if I remain here, than this looks grim, not just for he but for many. We are not summoning it, we are trapping it so we may destroy it. It is a different form of exorcism but needed for Billy case.
Mercy acts without thought to law, race or station. It acts where it must when it must.’

The conversation then turned to how he must protect the keep and could not allow a Drow in or around the keep. In my heart I understood where he was coming from, but I also knew that it didn’t matter.

‘I do not believe you so erratic Merielle.’

‘I assure you my thoughts are quite clear, as is my duty and my purpose.’

Myhun, who had been quiet through much of our banter back and forth spoke up. He echoed my thoughts and spoke further.
‘… I believe you are being guided by your lord. You do what you must to do his will. It is the same with all religious fanatics. No offense of course.’

A lay my hands on the table… even if He did not agree with my methods, Myhun at least understood that I act as I must. Perhaps the day will come when I shall have to answer for my transgressions to the law. I will answer for them. When Bhaal is no longer a threat to the region, to Faerun, to Toril itself. Or they can punish me now, and beg Mercy’s forgiveness as they draw their final, agonizing breaths at the hands of a destructive Avatar allowed to be brought to light by ignorance and stubborn foolishness. Either way I resigned myself to whatever fate lay before me. Mercy walks with me, even if the laws of men do not… My thoughts paused awaiting Myhun’s final decision.

‘Which is why until this issue with this demon is resolved… it may be best to not allow you into the city. You will either complete your task and the story will spread, or you will perish while trying. Like Maximus I cannot risk having Drow in the city.’

‘I cannot speak for the Guide, or the Keeper for that matter, but for the safety of the Keep I will have to ask the same.’

He went on to say that Billy would be the last thing Bhaal wants… That Bhaal would seek the knowledge of the keep. Dearest Mercies!

‘The boy will -become- Bhaal!’
We stood on the brink of destruction, in greater peril than the realms may be ready to face, and they worried over books! As if the Lord of Murder would seek to read books and drink tea! Are they truly -such fools-?
‘Then we leave.’

I despised prejudice then. Knowing it had cost me so much. The words of Ilmater come to me then, and I knew regardless of the pain of being shorn from this place I now called home, to place Billy at such risk by losing the sanctum of the Keep… It was what must be done. Mercy will yet prevail, and we will find a way to meet the ends we must to keep Bhaal at bay. I took a slow breath. Exile… It could be worse… much worse. There was still hope. In my mind I thanked Myhun for this small mercy he granted me, knowing or not… Mercy had guided them so subtly that I may continue, that we may continue our task. Myhun asked me to spend time in prayer, to seek a means that did not require the Drow. I already knew what must be done. Though I would need to seek further guidance in light of recent events.

I prayed mercy had found Nymas and kept him… Myhun spoke of going to the demon’s plane and destroying him. Which we may have to do, but first the link to Billy must be severed. I did not ask that he understand what must be done and why. He is a knowledgeable magus, and based on his knowledge and experience, he was offering sound advice. So… to seek guidance and sanctuary…

‘Until then you are free to gather your things from your sanctuary and depart. I will not send word to Beregost, so you may stay there as a haven. I hope you understand why this must be done.’

I studied his face my thoughts so many. While I loathed the ignorance and blind hatred that had ruled the day, I know that I must count my blessings, and continue on my path, no matter where that may yet lead me. It weighted my heart, but it is what must be done.
‘I do and thank you.’

He remarked on Elrith banging on the door and how my friends would be worried over my wellbeing. I rose and we made our way out. Indeed there was a crowd there, and they all seemed quite worried for me. My thoughts strayed to the last time I had been to the Fist building… perhaps their thoughts were not unjustified. The looks they turned on Myhun… I wondered if he wholly deserved their spite. I sought to calm and reassure them. A prayer for strength of spirit and body left my mind and heart as the others continued to speak back and forth.

‘So what do we do now?’

Indeed a question I hadn’t a ready answer for. But I would find one…
The others followed me as I made a silent walk to the temple. Esen was there and his hostility was palpable. He smarted off about seeing that their ‘savior’ was kept safe. Frustrated with his anger and the events of the day, still quite sore I made my way through the temple gathering what little I have. I left a note for the Sisters, and for Dianne.

Dear sweet child… asleep on her bed, both cats to keep her company. Gently, I brushed the hair from her face, she barely stirred and my heart wrenched my soul as I penned a quick note for her too. Before sadness took hold I gathered the last of my things. I handed Andy a large bag of tea, and he knew what to do with it…

We decided to travel to Beregost under cover of magic, and in a small group so as not to attract Bhaalist attention. The walk south was long and silent. Esen’s emotion chokingly physical. I chose to ignore it, and focused on what must be done. I would need to make arrangements for Billy to travel. I would need to put in place various wards to try and keep him safe. I would travel to the keep in the morning. Elrith and Emrys had already gone ahead of me to keep him safe, and pack our things. Poor child… he deserves none of this. Mercy grant us both strength in the days to come. Not only are things much more dangerous… much more complicated… but the Demon’s ultimatums are likely to increase in ferocity especially when they realize we are moving away from the Bhaal temple not toward it…

At least Nymas was safe, the Helmites had seen to that. Now we must pick up the scattered pieces and move on… forward… to peace that I will not rest until it has been found. Hope and faith still remain. There may be much that conspires against us, but we are strong, we will endure and mercy… Mercy will prevail.

Esen and I spoke at length. He loathes Ilmater for the mantle placed on me. He loathes my suffering because he cares deeply. It is something though that cannot be allowed to flourish. The pain it would cause his heart would be much greater than the pain it has already caused him. The conversation ended in he storming off, and I rattled. My heart is my own, but not mine to give away… Because I will not hand it out… It will belong to none but my faith. There is the love and care for friends… the love and devotion for Billy and Dianne… indeed many call me their mother. A mantle I would be proud to wear, and such joy it would bring… but to love again… No… that will not happen, no matter how angry they get, they beg, they seek… It is a pain -my- heart cannot bear, and one I will not allow myself again.

Other conversations passed the rest of the daylight as I planned my steps and offered my prayers… finally exhaustion took its hold, but sleep found no footing. As I tended bruises and cuts left over from the fight earlier, I wondered how I escaped death then… I wondered of many things. As I contemplated the difficulty of my task, and the difficulty that had compounded upon it, I battled doubt and frustration. No matter the costs…

I wept. Tears fell until it was no longer tears but pieces of my soul that fell. For so many things… for things I had not shed tears for… Until those tears turned to stubborn resolve. I have not walked this path, suffered so, to surrender to despair now. Mercy would see through, Ilmater would walk with me… Mercy would Prevail!
~~

[LeslieMS]

[SEVENTY-THIRD ENTRY]

I sit here trying to piece together fragments and details in my mind. Still the exact nature of the victory escapes me. It seems so surreal. Thank all that is merciful! I know there is still many steps before our destination. I know there are yet many foes to face, and the greatest of these yet hidden to me. I know there are still many troubles to face, many battles… My work is far from done. Tonight, as the sun departs its perch, we celebrate.

The inn in Beregost could not hold all the joy in my heart! He sleeps! Not the sleep of one who is plagued by fever and weakness from lack of nourishment. Not the sleep of one plagued by nightmares, but he sleeps. His belly is full, his skin clears, the fire in his eyes subdues, no longer does water turn foul in his hand. Once again he rests in the arms of Mercy… a soft peaceful smile on his face as he sleeps. To describe the ease to my soul? There are no words…

I had departed from Beregost as the sun rose. As I neared Candlekeep I caught sight of a familiar shadow. The sun was not yet above the horizon, though its glow washed the sky in gentle color. His face hidden beneath his hood, but I could see the grim set of his jaw. No doubt his eyes matched my own determined look. Neither of us spoke. He went to prepare for the ritual, and I to the Keep to gather Billy.

Joan and Emrys were at the gate. They did not expect me so early. Strange… Seems those allies truest to our cause, those who understand the dire straits of our situation, so willing to stand, so unwilling to judge. More concerned for my well being than the implications of what lead to my exile from Baldur’s Gate and the keep. Not much was said. A rallying speech was hardly needed. Explanations not expected or required. They knew what we faced, why we faced it. Doing the ritual now made sense to me. If we were to leave the protective confines of the keep, and without the Sanctum of the temple to cling to, severing the demon’s link to Billy, was a dire requirement. I did not know how much longer Billy could go on without food or water. Yes it would only be banished… a temporary thing, and a risk. Yes it would mean that Bhaal may yet recall the creature, for after all, what good is Godhood if one cannot bend the rules of the cosmos? Still in spite of all of that, and knowing the risks, I felt it wise. Even if it only offered Billy a reprieve… it was one he well deserved.

I gathered my notes from the keep, and my supplies. I did not know when, or if, I would ever be allowed return to the Keep… I suppose it doesn’t matter. My faith is carried in my heart. Mercy’s temple has never been of stone walls and stained glass, even the humblest structures matter little. The ground beneath your feet is sanctum enough when faith is strong enough. This exile, the result of need… while saddening… would not keep me from my task. A bed is a bed, be it earth or stone, the shelter of an inn, home… It truly is where your heart is. Mine is in each step I take.

I gently took Billy in my arms. He stirred from his feverish sleep as we made our way down the stairs.

‘Where are we going?’

‘For a walk love.’

He lay his head on my shoulder. I trembled feeling his fevered frame in my arms… he had lost weight, a large amount for one so small. I wanted to bear it all for him. My heart reached for his pain as my arms reached to offer him comfort. My mind drifted to my most recent drawing of Billy and Dianne laughing in the afternoon sun… Soon love, came the thought… Soon.

We made our way out of the keep to where Nymas stood within a circle. He had taken on a great mantle of responsibility in preparing this ritual. Though I was surprised to see him within the circle… I watched as he drew blood over the stones. I had not realized that we had drawn such a crowd… though I imagine it was an odd sight. A Drow in broad daylight in the midst of some arcane ritual, a woman carrying a child with appearance such as Billy possessed must have indeed been strange enough. I heard Nymas speak the name, and felt a tremble of fear dance through me. I whispered a prayer. I handed Billy to Joan and began warding the others from whatever evil we had yet to face. I was surprised to see so many.

‘I hope I have not carried you all to your deaths…’

The thought was banished from my mind almost as quickly as it bubbled to the surface. I cast off my doubts as I called forth the strength and guidance of Ilmater. I felt his hand at my back, gentle and reassuring, lending to me the strength to stand. I heard Nymas call the name again and watched as the earth trembled beneath us. My fists tightened. I watched as it seemed the darkness and hellfire poured through the cracks within the circle. Tendrils of smoke curled toward the brilliant hues of the sunrise.

I watched fear ripple through the others. None of us knew what to expect. Reassuring smiles, and words of caution seemed to quell it to a point. Hands on their weapons, tense, ready for what, we did not know… Live or Die, in each face was the will to stand. The darkness within the circle and there stood a demon, fearsome even by demon standards. I will admit I haven’t seen many demons… but even the number I have seen recently were not enough to prepare me for what stood before us.

Tension rippled through us as the demon cried out at his summon. I watched the demon and Nymas… Through the course of their exchange I saw a change come over Nymas. He paled. Pale as he was for even a Drow… the pallor of his skin was most worrisome indeed. Ilmater stand with him… The thought and the prayer flew to him as I saw his resolve failing him. The demon flailed against his prison angrily.

Nymas held up some flasks of holy water and sneered at the demon. The demon fell to demands as his type always does. Behind me Emrys stepped back with Billy as Nymas countered the demon and my jaw clenched. The demon’s laughter rang through the hills.

I watched the demon look to the circle enclosing him, a cruel smile on his face… at least I think it was a smile… and it couldn’t be more than cruel. I watched Nymas’ expression change. Time seemed to slow as I prayed. The others teased and taunted the demon and as I watched Nymas face the demon, and over the taunts of the others I heard the demon point out Nymas’ mistake. I wished the others would fall quiet. I could tell by the demon’s sneers, and the look on Nymas’ face that something was wrong…

Almost as soon as I realized there was a problem, the demon laughed and kicked a stone toward Nymas. Still the others taunted, and I worried over drawing anger from such a thing… especially if Billy and the others were in danger…

‘Come my Children.’

The demon’s graveled voice called forth spawn and he moved to strike Nymas… The battle was a blur. Flashes of spells, clashes of metal on metal, the smell of burnt flesh and burnt earth reached my senses in a dizzying array as I sought to keep an eye on the wounded and Billy, while still guarding my own self from our foes. The ground shuddered beneath us and the demon let out a garbled cry of defeat… I watched as the creature fell to the earth… Flames consumed the creature and in an instant there was naught but charred, bloodied earth.

My eyes found Billy even as I heard myself asking where he was. He had taken refuge behind the bushes, and he peeked out wide eyed. The others looked about. I heard the question asked more than once.

‘Is it over?’

I studied Billy a long moment, fearing to answer the question. His skin already seemed to be clearing, and I saw a focus in his eyes, that had for too many tenday, been absent. I knelt taking out a cup and water skin. The others remained watchful, undoubtedly entertaining the same worry I was:
What else is there?
I handed Billy the cup and watched as he placed the cup to his lips. I waited for that sour face, the feeble cough and prayed. Prayed that my theory was correct and with the link between Billy and the demon severed, he would be able to drink. I slowly allowed myself a smile as he drained the cup dry, a grin of his own to match.

The joy of the moment was quickly suppressed by a familiar sight. There in a cloud of malignant energy stood the spirit of the Magus. How I loathed his arrogant sneer! He demanded Billy, said we were surrounded. The others laughed as they looked and saw nothing. I knew better than to be so confident. My gaze leveled through his transparent eyes.

‘No.’

A flick of the wrist and more of those demon-things he calls Bhaal-spawn appeared. When they were dispatched and I assured the wounds healed of the others, and Billy safe all eyes turned to me, and my gaze was on this spirit.

‘Why can you not just stay dead?’

‘My work is not yet done. -laughs- Now Merielle. The Boy.’

‘No. He rests again in the arms of Mercy and you will not have him.’

That face! That look that mocks in a way words cannot. He motioned his assassins forward, and there was more fighting. All the while my eyes seldom left the ghost’s. Again the fighting subdued and he looked at me.

‘Those were just the disciples. You would do well to surrender him to us. We will have him.’

‘No you wont. I will not let you take him!’

The clamor of voices around me was nearly deafening for a moment. Priests called forth dark spells, and blades sung through the charged air. Battle cries lost in the din. The sound of fighting becoming a dull roar as prayers ran through my own mind. One final time, I would face him he would make his demand. I would answer. The words would be lost to the bloodlusts of all there however. Though I have no doubt even as the others struck down the spirit, banishing him temporarily once again, my words would not be lost to him.

‘You will fail! I will tear down your temple brick by brick if I must!’

The battle had been won. We stood victorious, and a few stitches later and some well placed prayers, after a night’s rest, we would be no worse for wear… This battle won. One more step in the right direction. My heart lurched when Billy asked to go home.

‘I miss Dianne.’

‘I know love…’

I do too, I thought. I reassured him that we would go home just as soon as I took care of some things and I was sure he was well enough to travel. He was tired and hungry, and for good reason! Happily I gathered him up to me and we began our walk south to Beregost to the Inn.

Some time later I watched him gobble a meal of beef tips, noodles and steamed vegetables. Nymas sat with us. The whole thing was marvelous. I felt such joy! Did my feet still touch the worn floor boards? I looked from face to face, my heart climbing higher as I counted every blessing twice. I smiled… a true smile… And held to happiness I had forgotten. It wasn’t long when I glanced back to Billy and spotted him nodding off. Gently I stirred him. He was so tired. And if anyone deserved rest it was he. I took him upstairs to the room, and tucked him into bed.

His fever was fast fading.
‘Will I be better soon?’

‘Soon darling… soon.’
As I smiled and kissed his forehead, he fell into sleep… a peaceful sleep… and my spirit soared in that. Mercy will see us through. Ilmater stands with us. So long as we do not waver, we will not falter, we shall endure… In the end of it all… -Mercy- will prevail.

I came down, joining the others, but I found conversation difficult. I owed each of them so much... I looked at Nymas and over to Elrith... And there was still more I would come to ask no doubt...

Celebration. Yes, we had much to celebrate. I enjoyed some of the evening before a wave of homesickness over took me. Billy’s words washed over me… I found myself wondering how far my path would take me from that place I called home. Already Trademeet a distant place… like a childhood dream. The temple in Baldur’s Gate was home now… and there… a family, loved and dear… Mercy guide my steps, but do not forget my path so that when my work is done I can make my way home…

I sought the peace of the night, which eventually passed into quiet meditation at the cliffs near Candlekeep… That then turned to conversation, on many things. Finally as the sun rose over the sea, I sought rest and made my way back to Beregost. By midday Billy was still exhausted, but we ate lunch and he fell back to sleep. I imagine it will be a few days before he is back to his chipper self. While he rests, I shall too. This chair is quite comfortable. Seems too much time dozing on the couch has led me to favor such things. No matter. For once I look forward to rest…
~~

[LeslieMS]

// Sorry for making everyone wait. A lot of writing, top it off with a bad case of food poisoning... Anyway here it is, planning on jumping IG soon. Again thank you everyone. You guys are great to rp with, all of you. //

[SEVENTY-FOURTH ENTRY]

It has been too long since I kept council of my own thoughts on parchment… A few days actually… and now I struggle to place them here in some sensible order. It has been a time for revelation. Some memories better left forgotten have the stubborn ability to persist. Now comes time for reflection… on things and memories that threaten to consume me from within. True shadows are best left to the darkness… but when does one decide to put such things to light?

Some pains are endless, some wounds scar. Glaring reminders of that which makes up the sum of moments that we become. Perhaps some things are not meant to fade. As I look from scar to scar, even only the ones that run around my hands and arms like gloves. tracing the painful story they line out I wonder at a great number of things. Some have faded, grown smooth and unseen. Some are buried deep beneath greater wounds. Some undeniably present, puckered and bruised… Some… not scars at all… Brands. Cold declarations of a past that refuses to be denied. There are three prominent ones. The mark of the Athkatlans, the Thayan runes and the Drow. The scar above my temple… it’s only telling is in the lack of hair in that small space. The first scar that I would mark the chapters of my life by. The days could be counted in the span of these. I have seen cultures mark histories, the deeds of life through tattoos… mine is counted in wounds to the body and the heart for so long that I find it strange.

Strange that the most significant chapter of my life bears no scar… no unbearable pain that wracks the body that I must seek to suffer through. No… these days the marks are on my heart and soul. Memories so burned into the whole of my being that they will not sway from my mind. Not all of them bear pain… in fact most of them don’t. It takes getting used to, this counting of joys. I am finding it easier. There are sorrows… but they are only the valleys between the peaks of happiness. I used to rage… that I could not forget the cruelties but struggled to recall the gentle laughter I always thought my mother’s. I used to envy those who held blessings I cannot…

Now? I dance from joy to joy… and when sorry draws down my heart, I simply walk. I walk knowing each step I take draws me further up out of my anguish. I teach them to appreciate what they hold, teach them to treasure them. I used to hate, so fiercely, fear so greatly so much, and know I now, that should such things fall across me then, they will be fleeting. No longer to I struggle to grasp at light fearing its loss. Now I know when I lose sight of it, that it is not gone from me, only that my journey is not yet done.

Even knowing this… learning and growing as I have, does not make me invulnerable. My faith is strong, as is my will. My desire to seek hope like so much I have learned in the last four years has gone from a labor of learning, to second nature. I am not without doubts… moments where despair my find foothold from time to time. It is in those moments the wisdom and kindness of others seeks to push the darkness from me. Fear and pride leaves me want to fight against such things. After all, the deepest wounds still weep… Things like anger, grief, hatred and sorrow so profound, that if they were not carefully contained behind so many defenses, they may yet consume all I am. Yes it was a time of revelation… for I would realize just how thin a thread that careful control dangled upon… I would realize for the first time in many years the depth of that which I had pushed deep… the reach of the gods and those dear… the ease with which the memory blurs… A time of revelation…
~~

I was spending time in meditation when my thoughts were interrupted by some sort of trouble. I followed the urging in my spirit southward to a large group of people… the largest ever. There had been an attack by a dragon over an egg or something… the initial cause of the problem was far from understood, and the battle far from over. I must admit I had a great deal of trouble understanding the roll of events. I found myself scanning the large mass of people mending wounds as I could, seeking to draw from death those who I could not. With each wave of foes as we climbed the mountain to its peak we were stretched. Never have I been amid such a grand scale happening. I had heard tales of the Painbearers marching with those who fought in the name of all that was good. I wonder if it sounded anything close to this. Battle cry and spell song, the rise and fall of the wind in our ears, the sounds of the mountain and the storm… there was so much noise that soon… it no longer was noise…

There were many… and I found my skills greatly tested as we climbed the jagged mountain. There was a strange crystal at the top of the mountain. And as they sought to discover the purpose of it or how it worked… I can’t say that they actually come to a conclusion before we entered the cave at the top of the mountain. We came upon a dragon. I have heard tales of dragons… Never have I seen one so large as this. It spoke of some gem… being taken by wizards? The Fist was involved somehow, and the Dragon’s solution was to crush all of Baldur’s gate… Some quick words, and somehow this large group would seek to return what was taken… very valuable and dangerous from the sound of it… to this Dragon and spare the city.

The details are fuzzy. To channel so much divine energy, over both distance, climb, and span of time… took a toll on my ability to concentrate and when the group finally made its way down the mountain… it was a blur. I cannot remember cohesive thought before we reached Beregost… Even then it would take a great deal of rest for me to understand the pass of events, and I likely will have to ask many questions of the others.
~~

One event from the mountain had my feet seeking the path south of Beregost. I had started the journey seeking forgiveness. A strange glow caught my eye… having never actually been paying attention the one time I walked that road, I had never noticed it before. I thought perhaps there was a fire. My thoughts still deep within themselves I decided to at least make sure there was no wildfire threatening the lands as my path would carry me that way in any case.

As I drew near the source of the light… I thought it strange that I heard not the sound of flame. The stars danced overhead and a voice was carried on the breeze. There was no smoke, no smell of burning at all on the breeze, only a voice filled with conviction and purpose. I walked up the hill to a ruined structure atop it, I saw a lone figure… silhouetted against a light that seemed to fill every part of the place, to soak into it as if alive. The only fire in this place was holy fire. My steps, good intended or otherwise had bid me trespass on something sacred.

I bowed my head in respect and backed away from this sanctum. There was a presence in that place… palpable… Not malevolent to me… but I could sense in it, the thirst for vengeance… a hatred as deep as the sky is vast. It was unsettling to behold such a thing. I sought to leave and as I did the sensation of being watched… noticed… peered at or perhaps -through-. Unease crawled through me, not because I felt threatened, for indeed I had the sensation of a common foe, something unspoken, no whatever dwelt here held for -me- no ill intent. I felt as though my actions were done slowly, under some watchful and unfamiliar eye.

It was then that I recognized the voice of the lone figure. I paused. He was well then. I breathed deeply, relieved even as the purpose of my journey brought a crease to my brow. I could not help but admire the sheer force of will that conveyed through his voice and his words. Such devotion to one’s faith. I had not realized that I had stopped in the arch way of the ruin listening to him speak until his voice was directed at me:

‘Come Sister. Witness the glory of -him-. The light that burns away the darkness.’

I entreated forgiveness for my eavesdropping and we spoke a moment longer. He gestured me welcome. The presence had withdrawn some… but not gone. I still felt the lingering feeling of a watchful eye. I cannot say there was warmth in the gaze that I knew fell upon me… or kindness even… but not loathing… not at me, but at something else… anger, cold and calculable, vengeful power…

He spoke of his cause and the task before him. I looked to his face when, for the first time I heard a genuine laugh come from him. I had spoken of hope… and he had laughed… Not the cold, lifeless laugh I had heard from him before. I looked to see a genuine smile on his face. Indeed he had found hope, renewal, in whatever had transpired here. He seemed jubilant almost as we talked of faith and conviction and of hope.

Our conversation turned to the purpose of my visit. I did not know how I expected him to answer, but I hardly expected the words that came from him as I finished my plea.

‘You cannot hide from your past Sister. You cannot hide from your shame. But look upon the face of vengeance and know that hope springs eternal so long as we do not surrender to despair.’

I thought he spoke of that which I felt I had wronged him in. And to look on vengeance and see hope? The thought of such confused me… It went against what I know… what does Mercy know of Vengeance? Mercy knows to leave it… but to see it in hope. I knew not how to see his words.

‘I do not seek to hide. I only seek amends.’

He shook his head at me smiling and he spoke, his tone even and knowing:
‘You know what I am speaking of. None may hide the scars of the Enemy’s torture in the face of the Archer. You must not fear the Spider’s crawling servants. They will be purged.’

How long did I stand, unable to draw breath or speak, with my heart so still and my eyes wide? The sensation that what saw me -knew- what lay hidden. I felt as though in one instant That which hid so much was torn away. I grasped for strength of will, I could not help but feel vulnerable and when I finally could speak it was hardly a full phrase but the question was there, for I did know of what he spoke then, there was no mistake in it. To deny it was pointless, and my most careful defense mattered not. I thought of the brand on my back and I cringed. Need not fear them? I was petrified… I loathed them.

‘How did you…?’

‘Do not hide behind fear of what was…’

I struggled to find words to justify this fear. To let go of this fear, that I had so long used to keep my words and actions in balance… to keep me cautious… he spoke so assured in it. Promised punishment for that which led to my fear in the first place. Ilmater forgive me. If I should have preached forgiveness in that moment I could not. How could I forgive the depth of darkest black cruelty, that deeply pained me even still? I have sought to work ever in Mercy’s cause… But to offer forgiveness to House Baenund or to the Lady of Spiders would be to forgive any ill… Even the Bhaalists. No there were some whose only mercy was that in a quick death.

He spoke of what was to come as I struggled to regain some semblance of dignity and composure. As he spoke a conversation drifted from my path to my mind:

‘…go, hide and wait.’

‘Wait for what?’

‘Retribution.’

She had spoke of those coming to free us? To slay those which imprisoned us for the wrongs we held to them… Hadn’t she? I wonder if she knew then what that word would hold now? I pondered much of the past as we made our way to Beregost. I found there were many tender places the past had left in my heart… more than I had given thought to. Still I had come a long way since those dark days. Those wounds would yet heal. Still it was perhaps this event that would lead to other things. This moment, that had drawn the past to surface, would set me on a path, that though difficult to walk, would lead to a friend along the way… and more mending. As is the nature of things, one must seek to understand what one intends to repair.
~~

Elrith and I would share words when I made my way to the inn. We two, dear sisters shorn apart by difference in belief. Each causing some measure of grief to the other for beliefs that could not be bridged. We stood on opposite shores then… the froth and furl of what we each believed turning in the twisted, embattled river between us… and neither with a way to cross. We could do nothing but look to each other as friends, in deep sadness. We would each whisper apologies over the din of our principles, we would wish each other well. We would turn from each other then and pray that these paths that separated us, would some day rejoin us… I prayed by then there would be a way to cross this deepening chasm.

My heart was heavier as I turned back to the others, sharing stories and laughs. I did not wish to draw down their moods by my own discontent. I was frustrated, but knew the remedy to my low spirits. I ordered some tea and headed up to see if Billy was awake and ready for breakfast.

His health continues to steadily improve as his strength returns to him. We walk daily now, and I teach him of the things that I learned as a new initiate… The edicts of Ilmater are coming easier to him these days, and he is starting to understand. Joan and Val have found a great number of ‘heroic tales’ involving heroes who took a non-violent or more merciful means to claim victory. At a tale every couple of days, we have enough to last nearly a tenday. Our progress is slow but steady. If I could but get him to understand that there are more to heroics than sword and shield, how my heart could ease.

His appearance is nearly proper again, and he longs for home in the temple. He misses the Sisters, Dianne, and even Brother Marcus and the chores. So far he is content enough that we cannot yet return. I too miss the temple… Home. I need to try to find out what needs to be done to lift the order disallowing me in the city. I look forward to the homecoming nearly as much as Billy, and with as much excitement and enthusiasm as he does. Soon…
~~

Billy spent a rather vigorous morning at play after breakfast. He rested late in the evening. I took the time to go gather herbs in the cool of the sunset. When I had nearly filled my pockets, Joan had found me. She asked why I was out gathering herbs. With my garden in Candlekeep, now being tended by Nurse Abigail, and of course my planter boxes being tended by the sisters… and I with access to neither… the supplies I need must be found growing wild for there is not a suitable place where we are now to grow them.

She accompanied me back to the inn, and we talked of all things, on love. Love would become the topic of the day. After a rather lengthy conversation on what to do in her particular case, the conversation would turn a bit more personal, and once again I would dance around the answers. Someday maybe, but not likely. If my path crossed another’s in such a way… I don’t know that I would walk that new path sidelong to another. I would likely turn and walk the other way as I have so many times since…

Love would be the topic of the day indeed. For many times in would be brought up. I would smile happily as they would speak of the love they had now found, and dance gracefully as my own heart would come to question. Of course there would also be some more direct questions, and even a few -very- specific questions. I was beginning to have trouble keeping my own thoughts in check, my own emotions. That careful façade of trouble was beginning to crumble.

There were many factors that lead to the storm that was coming. It would come, and it would lead to other things but first it would rage. Throughout the last few days thoughts and memories would needle to the surface, and I found myself working to keep a patient smile on my face. The evening wore on, and I found myself wishing solitude. I decided to take a walk, unfortunately everyone decided to take a walk with me.

As I stepped into the night air from the inn, the Elven fellow Wythran was there. Dour as ever, he asked about Billy and of course once those questions were answered he finished with some sharp remark about all the gentlemen that had followed me out of the inn. Something about them trying to woo me. The exact nature of it escapes me, but it irritated me, in fact for some reason, it infuriated me. Bah! Romance, I thought. I stormed off muttering to myself. It was the third or fourth time in two days that someone had commented on the company I keep, and made implications to similar motives. It was not my choosing, nor was it my desire to seek romance or affection. I had little patience for it. All the goings on about love and matters of the heart! No! absolutely no. I would not deal with that again. I would not give my heart away only to have it snatched and destroyed as it was. I would not endure such again.

I made my way northward. I fumed and muttered as my steps hurried me quickly off to that place near Candlekeep, that would offer at least a little peace. Seadin caught my steps as I walked. My mood sour, I was unfairly harsh. No doubt any that crossed my path that night thought I sundered by madness, but I hardly cared. I wanted peace. I wanted them off the hems of my skirts, all of them. As I sat there screaming at the ocean, letting my anger fall into the sea. I couldn’t really explain why I was angry. Maybe because I felt careless words trampled across something sacred in some small way. Or perhaps I was angry in a wild attempt to protect that which I wanted to keep to myself. Anger fell away and tears followed.

I let them fall to the wind and the water… Let them fall away and ne’er return to me. That I may walk from this place, room for joy in my heart. That place be my sanctum, and there, with only that of nature to keep me company beneath the moonlight, let me not hide from my own thoughts. The tears had slowed to a trickle by the time Seadin and Anderick came over to me. He asked if I had been crying, and of course, forgive me… but I lied. I prayed the darkness would not give away my secret, my moment of weakness. I am no good with mistruths however, and there was no getting around it, aside from refusing to answer.

That tactic only worked for a moment before he took to being aggravating. His attempts to cheer me somewhat were not completely unsuccessful, and by the time Ian had come over to where we sat, I was at least smiling. Anderick went to seek rest as the night began to roll to the moonlit hours of predawn. Jade joined us then, and offered some welcome feminine camaraderie in the face of such taunting. As jokes and jabs passed among us and the sun began its slow march across the morning sky, the conversation had once again turned to talk of love.

Seadin left to go to sleep, and Joan came over, and as it were, the topic persisted. Ian, Joan and Jade spoke of how I should not keep my heart so closed off. The topic treaded dangerously across my tender heart. All at once, a careless phrase settled heavy on my heart. I snapped at them and strode off angrily.

As I walked on, though I felt bad. They did not know that their words trampled over painful memories, and in fact, all they said was out of good intent. I had contemplated turning back when Jade and Joan appeared. Poor Joan had run to catch up with me, left herself out of breath. Here it was, that I was rude and they were apologizing to me. Ian too, though he remained quieter than the others. So we stood there apologizing to each other.

Against better judgment, we went to the inn for drinks. Valuable lesson learned… I should only drink tea or water… ever. Despite the fact that it was embarrassing to my pride… it could have been worse. I spoke of the past… of Xun. I kept the tale brief, and as void of details as I could. It seemed strange to put it to words. Something I had not done since I put it on parchment, only to rip the pages from here and burn them to ash… To burn the pages, my thoughts… But it was burned in my mind. Painful still, surprisingly so. To speak of it as my mind’s eye played out the memories in rapid succession.

I did not speak of the burning… How in those moments of such searing pain, the flames that never touched me, how I felt his pain as my own, and in that moment one could not tell if it was my screams or his, or both… The Drow, such cruelty. The need to destroy anything good. The product of Folly, made to live as a slave… the common thread we shared… The hatred the Matron held for us, that contempt. The only thing that kept us alive was our usefulness. As useful as he may have been, when our affections were discovered, well… That use was greater as a means of torment. A torment far greater than any the best torturers could produce and why? Simply because they thrive on screams of pain and sorrow. The lesson of that night would stay with me. Two years I loved, and for two years I counted the price of that love until I was freed… then I stopped counting because I was not daily reminded of it. Something like that is never forgotten, never far from thought, and never easy to move past.

A night of revelation… As I struggled to combat the effect of strong drink, I also sought to turn the attention from the state of my heart. It wasn’t hard to do, the tavern of the inn was rather busy that night. There were plenty of distractions. By the time my feet had steadied beneath me, I pushed away my discomforts and took up the mantle of healer. This time though, it was not the body that needed mending, but a wound to the spirit.

Ian and I spoke at great length. He buries himself in drink to hide from a past that he cannot forgive himself for. I hope that through my words he may yet learn to do so. I felt by the time the sun had risen that, perhaps he was a step closer to mending his own being. The hardest mercy to offer… to forgive one’s self. As our conversation wore on, slowly, I watched as he began to draw the courage to take that first step. This man, who had lost a family, and blamed himself… Finally, as the sun began to rise, he did also. Smiling, he thanked me.

Thanks is not mine to take. I did no more than open his eyes to the path he could take, should he wish. It is not for my glory that I work, but for the glory of Mercy itself, for the hand that offers mercy is Ilmater’s. I am little more than a healer. A woman of Ilmater’s tasks. The path I walk, the edicts of the faith I hold so dear, bids me help where I can. I have my own failings, I have my own things I must make peace with, to forgive… and I will, in time. For now, there is much to do. Faith is strength, and hope the light we hold to show us our way. My duties, oaths and ways, may not be understood by others, but perhaps in time they will see. I will not sway from my path, I will endure, unwaveringly. Be it that they think me right or wrong, I will act as my faith and heart dictates. My oaths will be kept, consequences to be paid for my actions may still yet be to come. Come what may, I will not fail.

Soon Billy will be ready to travel back to Baldur’s Gate… perhaps I can regain entry to the city. I hope so, it is not wrong to keep Billy from his home, but I cannot do my duty apart from him. I hope reason and logic will outweigh foolish fears and hatreds. We must not fail, doing so damns us all… to a realm of death and murder simply because it may be done. If punishment is mine to be had for my actions, I pray it at least waits for duty to be done.

Too long I have sat writing. It is growing late, and I should rest. The last several days have been trying, but I have endured, Mercy has prevailed. In the end that is all that matters. Learn the lessons that life offers, keep your faith strong, and stand by duty and what is right. That is all that matters. Mercy willing I will continue to do so.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[SEVENTY-FIFTH ENTRY]

A carefully placed step is far better than standing still. I have stood still for a very long time. Too long. Too long I have hidden behind fear, and even duty. What is required of me, to sit and do only what I must… There is more to it. The others have been telling me for so long, that I think I had stopped listening. There is mercy in all things… Even laughter.

This morning I rose from a peaceful sleep. Billy made it through the whole night as well. The morning was spent in study, we walked and chatted. I imagine he will be ready to return any time. It is a blessing when things seem to fall into place. Myhun happened to be in Beregost this day. I was able to speak with him about re-entering the city.

‘Tell me, will you be communicating further with the Drow?’

‘There is no further need for such a thing.’

And with that my leave was granted. It is a dangerously thin line I find myself walking. The differences between ally and foe, friend and enemy, not always so clear. Truth and lie separated by nothing more than carefully chosen words. The only true constant is duty. To do what must be done, to ensure what is kept safe remains so, to endure, to prevail, Faith and hope. All else seems to ebb and flow with the tides. The line drawn in the sand shifts with each passing wave. The sand shifts beneath our feet, and we must adjust our footing to hold firm. I know in my heart what is right and wrong, what can and cannot be forgiven.

There will come a time to answer for that which does not fall within the lines society draws, but it bears little weight on my faith, or the mind of Ilmater. It saddens me that these lines have cost me some things, but my oaths remain in tact, my duty remains clear, my faith remains strong, and hope I carry so deep within me that nothing shall put out that flame. In that, my heart finds peace amid pain and sorrows. I pray understanding, enlightenment for those that need it. May those that look on me see the Mercy that is Ilmater, and those that do not, or cannot… May mercy find them somehow… if not by my hand, than by another’s.

All around me there is joy. I want to laugh. Its silly, but Joan and Jade were right, everyone was all along I think. Servant of Mercy… is there some reason why you deny yourself mercy? Today, once duty was complete, I allowed myself such. Billy and I both managed a peaceful night’s rest. We worked through our lessons of the day, got some exercise, and after dinner he went to sleep pleasantly exhausted. This left the majority of the evening to myself.

Now I know that the conversation I had with Joan and Jade, is one I have had many times, with many people, but today… I didn’t slam the door shut and hide. So it lead to a few embarrassing moments that night… Like all the flattery… and stepping on toes. Joan jokingly swears that she will have me wedded off by the start of the next tenday. It was a night of laughter. Joan decided to teach me to dance, which went surprisingly… well. Jade played a dutiful chaperone, Joan may have had a bit much to drink… and that is an understatement. The laughter and joy of the night was much needed by all. The whole night was a blessing. I hate to admit it, but they were really right. I had … fun. I did. I actually laughed, smiled, acted without worry… The first time I have allowed myself such a mercy in longer than I can remember.

I made a promise that I think I might actually be ready to keep. There is much to learn, much to do, but I will do it with gladness. I will find balance between duty and joy, and in doing so find a greater understanding of the mercies of the world. Long enough have I walked in the shadow of fear, long enough have I walked the darkness… Its time to appreciate the light.

It is not selfish to do so, it is as much duty as the prayers I offer. I give and ask nothing in return, but perhaps it is time to accept what is offered. After all I would not let others turn away what they need, why do I expect them to let me do just that? -That- is selfish. What will come to pass will come to pass. Mercy will prevail, I will not fail my oaths. That much -is- certain. So why not take the joys that find me? Forgive my stubbornness.

Some lessons merely take longer to grasp. Mercy guide me… in all its forms… Guide my steps, guide my heart. May my hands take up your tasks Ilmater, with a willing and… joyful heart. Help me to remember the lesson of this day, no matter what trials I face. Faith be my strength, let Mercy prevail.
~~

[LeslieMS]

[SEVENTY-SIXTH ENTRY]

The days are filled with conversation. Friendly exchanges, worded walks through memories, exchanges with strangers full of carefully chosen words, Emotional confrontations with friends turned foe, secrets, lies, laughter, hope… There is so much -strength- in words. As soothing as the grandest healing tonics, shaper than any sword, sometimes even double-edged. One can hide well in cautious words, or lay bare every weakness. Was there a hidden meaning in such words? A veiled threat, a hint to a promise not yet made or fulfilled? Who can say. Long have I been a dancer with words, and I find myself learning new steps. To lie by telling the truth, once I always thought that an odd statement meant to confuse. It almost feels wrong to choose so words that would mislead… At the same time, I find in some things, it is very needed.

I also find that the past… Well… I am learning that some pains still run deep. I know some things difficult to talk about. Still, it is becoming less of a thing to be feared. Scars fade. The Drow may have made sure that they would fade slowly… that they would inflict pain so long after the wounds had healed, but all things fall to time in one way or another. Even the grandest walls, power fades, Empires fall, all things fall to time and time reveals all things. The rock worn to sand by the waves, that deposits on the shore, over time the sand becomes the earthen soil, given enough time it returns to rock. Perhaps it was always as it was. It learned, it would bend, it would shift, but always it held true to itself in one way or another. Time changes us, subtly sometimes, sometimes violently. We may change, but always, we are naught but ourselves.

‘Great are the mountains… But Mighty is the stone, for it stands without leaning upon its brethren, and chooses its own path…’
This particular stone had to be fished from the river, and hidden amid stones while the mortar that now holds it together may stiffen. Shattered was this stone, and I wonder… if we put all the pieces back together, or is something missing? A tiny chip perhaps? Worse still… it was a most mighty hand that sought to crush this stone to dust. Lucky stone… I hope. Sometimes I fear luck is merely the mask that the doom wears. Mercy to those who suffer greatly for a righteous cause. Time will tell if this stone brings down the mountains, or becomes dust scattered to the wind. I pray it does because the mountains… they cast a shadow, and the jagged peaks know only treachery and death. The world would be better for their passing.

I have been taking frequent walks. Sometimes alone. Many think it foolish, especially the nightly walks. Billy is well now it seems. The traces of toil from his fight with the demon fade and his strength returns to him. I go and gather herbs, replanting seeds for the ones I take. I watch and I listen as I walk. There are many shadows, only one is my own, and only a few I can say do not wish me ill. Things have been quiet. I would be thankful for the silence in any other case. I skirt around the Bhaal temple. Too quiet… I know they will not give up. The mark on Billy’s back remains unchanged. They need only to complete their ritual. No they have not given up. Their devotion to their god, and the closeness to their goal will not allow it. If they succeed… The Lord of Murder will show no mercy. The Hand of Mercy, He Who Endures, knows this. Bhaal will withhold mercy for spite of Ilmater. I cannot fail. I have already been promised that my failure would be rewarded with great and deep anguish. To fail in this… I haven’t sufferance enough for it. Not only will failing mean I have failed my God, but the whole of the realms, and of those, all dear to me… and in those… the dearest to me of all. I will not fail. If only by force of will. I cannot fail, will not fail. Faith is strength, hope the eternal flame that lights my path. Mercy will prevail.

Even in my steadfast heart, I know there are many obstacles yet to overcome. Thank all that is Mercy, I do not walk alone. I must step with great care. My actions have earned me a share of trouble. There was an Elven man who approached me as I left Beregost to walk. His words were sharp. A warning and a threat thinly veiled. I wonder how many eyes watch from some unseen vantage point. It would not surprise me to know they watch because of my involvement with Nymas. One choice that I do not regret. Billy is all that matters. If in the path to ensure his safety, there is an unlikely ally, who am I to turn away such a thing in a time when the need for allies are great. I do wonder though if I had met this particular Elf before. I could not recall his name or face, but he called me by name. I am known to many, whether that is a bane or a blessing, I cannot say. My words were chosen in a way as to convey that I understood the hidden blade in his own.

The Bhaalists are quiet for now. I seek Ilmater’s wisdom before trying to return Billy safely home. Joan has secured me permission to come and go as I please from Candlekeep. This is a good thing. The road from Beregost to Baldur’s Gate is a long one. If the enemy lay in wait, it will be prudent to hold that as a safe haven if needed. Truth be told, his homesickness matches my own. Home. I finally finished Lady Iliara’s present. I had it framed. I sent along a letter and a few drawings. I told Brother Dracius of everything, including the dreams of Ilmater. Some gems I have found and some gold for the temple there in Trademeet and a toy for little Tristan were also tucked into the package. I pray it makes it before her birthday… I cut it kind of close.

There will come a time when waiting draws to a close. A time for sword and steel, fist and spell song, battle cries, when the battle will be waged, and no longer with words. For now we wait. We prepare and watch, each side drawing upon strengths and seeking the enemy’s weakness. There will come a time when, to protect, I must defend. I have been learning from Ian. He is quite skilled in the martial fighting styles. There is much that can be learned from him in that respect. Already I am doing a little better when it comes to a fight. Perhaps in turn I can teach him to have hope again? His faith and hope are weakened by years of doubt and thoughts of self-loathed presumptions. It is not something that cannot be fixed tough. He can relearn, there is always hope, even when it is forgotten. I really hope he can allow himself forgiveness.

There was an altercation with Cat just outside of Beregost. I refuse to fight her. She may hate me for the choices I made, but her stance is as much from devotion to her cause as my devotion is to mine. No one may entirely understand first and foremost that Billy’s health and well being comes first, and second… Well… things are not always what they appear. I continue to seek amends. If only they could understand what must be done and why. The only thing that matters is that the Bhaalists do not continue the ritual. I worry how I am to keep this from happening if blind ignorance and stubborn prejudice are allowed to hold me from my duty. I pray there is mercy enough for me when the time comes to hand out retributions… If not… Ilmater be with me… Mercy will prevail, there is no other end but this.
~~