Murder Rended... Mercy Mended...

[LeslieMS]

Preface

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

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

[FOR FUTURE REFERENCE, PLEASE SEE THE FOLLOWING LINKS]

Subject: Church of Ilmater RP
Subject: The Order of the Radiant Heart RP
Subject: Candlekeep: The Guild of the Scholars
Subject: Rumours of Baldur's Gate

OPEN FOR ALL TO READ: MERI AND JONAS TELL THE STORY [IC]
Subject: A Public Recounting
~~

[LeslieMS]

Prologue: The First Steps

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

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

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

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

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

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

[LeslieMS]

A Handful and a Prayer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[LeslieMS]

The First of Many…

Some days later we were walking down the Tradeway. Past that accursed Bhaalist fortress… To this day I could still promise the shadow cast by the structure darkened as we passed. It threatened to swallow us whole… and might have had the chance if not for the large group of Bhaalists that attacked us then. It was to be the first battle in a war we were not yet aware we would be fighting. It was fierce. Outmatched only by the fighting we faced as our small group made our way into the temple.

When the fighting had ended at last, I looked to the alter that dominated the main chamber we stood in. There… on the alter… A sight burned into my thoughts. She lay there, the other missing priestess. She had suffered. Bhaal’s servants were cruel. Though her spirit had long since passed on to Ilmater’s gentle care… her screams still echoed through the halls of that place. It smelled of dust and blood.

I was still young comparatively. My days on the coast barely a couple of months. I had learned much, but even my power could not recall her from death. Not that I had the heart to. She rested in comfort now. And for all the horrors I had seen at the hands of slavers, Thayans or Drow… the very air of the place, so laced with pain and hate drew me to my knees. My heart wept for her. The first Ilmatari, whose blood would soak the Bhaalist stones.

I reached a hand to brush her cheek, only to watch her body crumble to ash and dust. Beneath my hand rested a ring. I picked it up. Fearing at first a trick, but those fears were put to rest. It is difficult to mistake the presence of Ilmater. They had thought to make her suffer. I know in my heart that she endured well… and when she passed what any should have to, her prayers for mercy were heard and answered.

I took up the ring and we readied to leave the foul temple. I knew not why the Ilmatari were being tormented so, but I intended to endure it as we should. As we stepped away from the shadow of the place… which now seemed to shrink from us… I slipped the ring on my finger, promising that somehow, I would face what was to come. I knew though that I would not get far without allies. I would not get far without faith… I prayed and wiped tears from my face, and for the first time… I heard Ilmater speak.

‘Take care, my favored. You will be needed in the days to come.’
~~

[LeslieMS]

Messengers of Bhaal

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

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

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

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

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

‘Hope is an emotion we cannot afford among the populace.’
~~

[LeslieMS]

The Shadow of Murder: The Whispers in the Dark

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[LeslieMS]

The Magus and the Mark

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[LeslieMS]

A Dream Among Nightmares

[An Excerpt From the Sixtieth Journal Entry]

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

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

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

‘Sir are you alright?’

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

‘Merielle my child… I was about to ask you that question.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I endure as I should… I regret none of it.’

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

‘It is why you are my Favored above all others.’

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

‘I … I deserve no such title…’

‘You give of yourself and ask nothing in return.’

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

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

‘My faith is ever my strength.’

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

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

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

‘You … are grateful to -me- my lord…?’

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

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

‘I am but your humble servant Ilmater…’

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

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

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

‘Use this gift with good intent my child.’

‘Always.’

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

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

‘Thank you…’

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

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

[LeslieMS]

Missing?

[An excerpt from the Church of Ilmater RP thread]
Upon searching the sanctuary, William is nowhere to be found. All his belongings are gone as well and a letter is left on his bed. The script is messy and words are misspelled...

Sister Merielle,

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

Love,
William
~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[LeslieMS]

Isolation… Darkness… Demon…

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

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

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

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

[An excerpt from the Sixty-Eighth Entry]
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.
~~

[LeslieMS]

An Answer to a Prayer

[An Excerpt From the Sixty-Ninth 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 well?’

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

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

‘Then how is it you have failed?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘This…’

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

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

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

‘The one who speaks through Billy?’

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

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

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

‘Do I face this pet? 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.
~~

[LeslieMS]

At All Costs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[LeslieMS]

Stolen

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

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

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

But Dianne…

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

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

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

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

‘Save me, Sister Merielle!’

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

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

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

‘The Boy, Merielle. I don’t know how much more poor Dianne can take…’

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

‘I will deliver her all to you… eventually. The boy for the girl Merielle.’

‘You won’t have him. I won’t give him up.’

‘Then the girl dies.’

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

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

‘Her screams are hardly heard any more… she hasn’t the strength.’

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

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

[LeslieMS]

A Bitter Truth

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

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

‘She is with me now Merielle.’

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

‘I am safe now, Sister Merielle.’

‘Oh darling I am glad of that. I… am sorry I could not come get you love.’

‘I love you Sister Merielle. I know you love me too.’

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

‘Tell Billy I miss him…’

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

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

‘I am glad of that… I am... that she has found peace in your arms...’

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

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

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

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

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

‘I am sorry my lord Ilmater.’

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

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

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

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

‘Go now… Back to your life, and let -Mercy- guide your steps.’

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

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

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

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

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

[LeslieMS]

Mercy to the Least Deserved

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

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

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

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

‘He should be cleansed and prepared so that he does not rise as undead…’

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

‘Do not let your hate consume you Merielle…’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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