Abby Winters, a Saint in the Slums

[*Abby]

Abby continues in Sigil from where she ended in Thesk. Here is her journal entries from the city of Telflamm where she lived and died, doing Ilmater's work.

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The history of Abby Winters was short and tragic. But, much like the phenoix, from the ashes of a her misfortune sprung forth a wellspring of hope.

She was born in Ashbenford to Peter and Gretchen Winters. Peter was a poor cobbler from Damara who came to the Heartlands and there married Gretchen, a farmer's daughter. Years after having birthed 4 healthy sons, the couple unexpectedly gave birth to Abigail Constance Winters on a cold Winter's morning. The young girl showed an early love of reading and growing things. She split her time between the library and her mother's herb garden, and her nights dreaming of one day becoming a famous wizard. It was not to be however.

When Abby turned 9, there came a great plague to Ashbenford, and the village was quaranteened. Ashbenford's resident temple of Helm combated the plague as best they could, bringing healing to those who could afford treatment first. The priests of Helm, following the doctrine of their faith also took in as many small children as they were able from the poor and common folk. So it was that Peter and Gretchen, who were too poor to afford Helm's blessings gave up their dear daughter to the Helmite clergy. It was the last time Abby would ever look upon her family in this world.

One week after the plague had begun, healers of Ilmater from Shadowdale at last arrived in Ashbenford. They went to their work, clensing disease and sickness from everyone, never asking for payment. They worked tirlessly beyond the point of exhaustion, spending every ounce of strength healing others, even at the expense of their own health. Though it was too late for Abby's family when the Ilmateri came, even at her young age, the girl understood the selfless nature of these men and women. They never asked for so much as a copper, and they brought the blessings of Ilmater to everyone... even those who had nothing.

Within another week, the plague was over. Hundreds of lives had been saved that would have been doomed, and there were less Ilmateri to return north than had come. Some had died of exhaustion, some of sickness... taking the suffering of others unto themselves.

When they left, they brought with them a number of Orphans who had nowhere else to go. Abby was among the sad column of weeping children who went north. Unlike the other children however, Abby already felt her calling, clear and strong. It was the strings of fate drawing her toward a life that could no more be denied that the drawing of her next breath.

For the next years of her life, the girl grew to a young woman, cloistered among the libraries and infermeries of Shadowdale's "House of the Holy Martyr." Her gift for healing, both mundane and divine was quickly realized by the clergy and she was nurtured and guided by the most skilled hands among the cloth.

Besides her skill in healing craft, her bretherin recognised unshakable faith and a passionate devoutness to the Crying Lord's teachings. The young girl took all three of Ilmater's vows upon her frail shoulders. Swearing off the trappings of a normal life, she devoted herself entirley to her cause. She would never know riches, comforts or the love of a husband. She would never hold a weapon or wear fine dreses. Her life was a vessel through which Ilmater's spirit would flow, bringing santuary to those without.

By the age of 18, Sister Abby Winters possessed a knowledge of herblore and healing to rival even the elders. Though her frail body was not yet accustomed to the rigors of channeling divine power, her potential was well known among the bretherin. It was whispered that this young woman would one day be a saint, choosen by Ilmater to walk among the greatest of the Broken Ones.

It was decided that she should go forth and bring the word and compassion of Ilmater to a part of the world which needed it most. Thefore, soon after her 19th birthday, Sister Abby Winters looked for the last time on the shores of her homeland and set sail across the Dragonmere.

In the distance lands of the merchant lords, where the rich rode on palenquens through crowded markets filled with the impoverished multitudes who starved and suffered, a young healer with nothing more than thread-bare robes and a satchel filled with salves and bandages would set foot into the docks of Telflam and there find her destiny.

[*Abby]

First ill post her journal from her days in Telflamm, in case anyone is interested. Once that is done, ill begin her new journal from Sigil.

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I find myself in rather more luxurious accomodations than I am accustomed to thanks to the generosity of an elf named Aelieus. Therfore, though it is late and I am exhausted from Ilmater's works, I will attempt to put my thoughts into some sembilance of order for later review.

I arrived in Telflamm four weeks past and so far, I have found the city to be much more than I originally envisioned. The level of poverty and strife here is shocking. Recent tragedys have left citizens with little. Filth fevor seems to be getting more and more common by the day.

I believe my letters to the city have met with some success and anticipate facilities to properly feed and tend to the multitudes of down-trodden commoners will be provided before over long. Until I am permitted to speak with the Justicar, lady Valla Destrayal of the League of Avenging Hammers however, I will not be able to plea my case properly. For now, I remain in a state of limbo.

Besides the number of needy people here, there are also a number of dangers that must be avoided or delt with. There is a strong criminal element in this city that I will have to do everything in my power to avoid. Already I have been warned and even attacked by agents of this gang. I only hope they have forgotten me. I have no wish for Ilmater's good works to be halted because of my failings here. Clearly, the populace here needs the blessings of the Crying Lord.

Also, some manner of creature which I surmise, with the astute observations of a fellow sister of the cloth to be a "Night Hag." This being is very likley a demon or devil of some sort and seems to be attacking those weakened by loss and grief through their dreams. A young boy named Wil seems to be under constant and direct attack. I have seen to his protection, but I fear until I can bring a force adequite to deal with this creature into the catacombs where it lingers, it shall continue its relentless attack on the boy.

Interestingly enough, Will seems to be what is called "Spirit Folk" in the lands of the east, and Rashemon. It seems his father may have been Fey, and that he has a prophetic ability to see through his dreams. I believe these dreams are what has attracted the attention of the creature which stocks him. The boy has a protector of sorts. It is some sort fey creature and possibly even the boys father. It goes by the name "Rupert" and seems somewhat reluctant to speak over much.

Even as I attend this, I am still waiting for a list of ingrediants that will allow me to awaken the sole survivor of the Titan. I only hope that the proprieter of the Candle and Cantrip can hurry her efforts. Among a very likley abilty to shed light onto the mysterious sinking (as well as venerate the two falsley accused and subsequently slain elves who the public wrongfully blamed for the crime) of the Titan. Though I knew them to be possessed of dark heart, or at least lady Bel, I still regret that such a miscarage of justice was done upon them. Still.. people often sew their own seeds through they way they compose themselves in public. Just the same, it grieved me to learn of their deaths.

The people of Telflamm have been extremely kind and willing to donate to Ilmater's cause, and this fill my heart with joy. I feel a sense of impotent frustration however that I have no way to accept their monetary donations. As much as I would love to take them and put them to use, I simply have no way to keep them safe, and carrying the gold would only result in my own demise I fear. Either way, my vows must come before any personal feelings, and I have little doubt that Ilmater will shed light upon my predicament.

With any luck, I will be granted temple status before long and those who wish to donate can give via supplies and direct payment to the city for rights of usage on temple grounds. This city will certainly do well to have a place where the poor can recieve food, medicine and blessings. An undernourished body does not easily fight off disease, nor does an undernourished soul.

I believe I am beginning to feel the strain of the hardships and suffering which I toil in here. Something happened the other day which lingers in my thoughts, though it seems silly to me as I write. I entered into a debate of sorts with some of my friends and supporters. I am well accustomed to not being taken seriously. Father Patrick foretold to me that my physical body was both a blessing and a curse. While my small frame and helpless demenor would oft win me sympathy, it would also lead people to think of me almost as an adult does a child. Most will consider my opinions pleasant, but inevitibly ineffectual, dispite my thorough education and extensive literary knowledge. I realize is simply a part of my life and I do not begrudge anyone for it. However, the topic of a recent debate has left me somewhat sad... and I believe it sheds a very revealing light upon the human condition, especially here in Telflamm where suffering and evil are so common place.

The debate was concerning the Celestial. I found myself unable to convince even my most trusted friends that Celestials were wholly good and beyond being seduced by the lures and temptations of evil.

It is not my lack of ability to debate which has given me pause... rather it is even the most generous of people's lack of faith in the power of goodness. I observed that nearly anyone can be convinced that a demon is wholly evil and utterly beyond redemption. However, it seems to be singularly difficult for a person to envision a creature that is purley and unfailingly good.

Oddly enough, in all the lore we have concerning the heavens and the hells, we know the two realms to be diametrically opposed. Two opposing furies of equal and eternal power. If one was greater than the other, it surley would have conquered its counterpart long ago, as the two forces have been warring for eternity.

Even the most educated and well read of my debators seemed to believe evil to be the stronger, dispite what we know of cosmic forces and the balance of good and evil. For if a man can believe a demon to be forever beyond redemption, then why should he not be able to conceive the Celestial to be beyond corruption? Even knowing that the two beings are exact opposites of one another?

So why is it then that we mortals, caught between the two, and feeling the pull of evil, yet hearing the compulsion to be good, cannot concieve of absolute good? Only absolute evil?

I can only surmise that it is the evil within us that makes it so difficult to envision a being of purity upon which temptation and lust for power can hold no sway. We ourselves are never free of lust for power and temptions of the flesh, and thefore perhaps it is unconcious spite or bitterness that rejects the idea that another being can be without these things. Perhaps evil seems the stronger to those whose own temptions are stronger, and this lack of faith is one of simple inability to imagine something greater than ourselves.

Abby Winters

[*Abby]

Morning has come, and I feel hollow and empty. I have felt betrayal and pain of the like I have not been made to suffer before. Yet suffering is my lot in life, by my own choice, and thefore I must wear it as a mantle and not allow it to darken my soul. I only wish that this pain of loss and hurt I know now could somehow take away from that which Jonon and poor Lorraine suffer now. But alas, it does not.

Always do I try to look for the good in people, and perhaps because of this, I am ever shaken by the evil when it comes forth.
Telling a family that their loved one has perished has ever been the healers most difficult task, but never before have I had to tell a family that their loved one was slain in cold blood by a murderer in my very midst... just as I had cured him of his illness.

Every step upon the path to reviving ser. Jenkins of the Titan was wrought with peril. The villians used poison and tretchery and even those whom I believed to be my friends were in league and working toward this failure. Yet in the end... I was able to revive him. Only to have his life stolen in that moment of elation by a misguided fellow worshipper of Ilmater who laid hands on him with her violence training and broke his neck... taking his life. Then, she took her own life as I screamed for guards. And there I was, standing alone in a room with two lives cut short by senseless evil, one whom I had tried to save, the other whom I had trusted as a sister.

The only small token of good that has come forth is that in his last moment of life, Ser Jenkins had relieved his final moment aboard the Titan... He screamed out something about Shou, as though the ship were under attack by these people. It is my hope that this declairation may yet lead to justice.

Regdar came in with Shabba, and that is when I noted that the ring upon Calinda's lifeless finger bore a living eye within it which watched us. I remebered that Shabba also had such a ring upon her finger, I bid her take it off and hurl it to the floor. To my relief she did so. Ser Regdar then plunged a dagger into the eye of the accursed thing. There was a burst of magical energy, and a hideous, blackened and twisted figure issued forh from the spellfire. This was without any doubt the hag we have sought. It promised our suffering and then faded from sight.

One of these vile rings yet exists in our keeping, though it is locked away. We are ever the more desturbed because the watcher has seen everything which we had seen as it rode upon Shabba's finger. All of the events of our meeting with the Justicar as well as our journey to forest of Lethyr.

Shabba mentioned earlier that she had been attacked by some manner of creature called a "ninja." and that these things were from Kara-Tur. Though I dont know what ninja are, and have never read of them, the dialect of the Nighthags name "Nakatasin" seems to support the idea that our adversaries are indeed Shou. Whatever these ninjas are, the hags seem to be controlling them. Shabba had taken an accursed ring from one of them which she had slain.

Vengence is a hollow persuit, yet halting evil that it may not take more lives is not. Therfore, I will lend aid in any way I am able to put and end to this creature and her minions which stalk the night and take from us our loved ones.

Even among all of this despair, there is some hope which has been brought forth. Justicar Valla Destrayal has at last convinced her fellow merchants to fund the Santuary of Ilmater and has choosen a place where it will be in the docks district. At last I shall be able to make a real and proper differance in the lives of those who suffer in this city. Though I feel I should be brimming with happiness, sorrow and the pain of betrayal and grief has girded my heart so that joy cannot easily touch upon it. However, what I have seen in recent days does not detract from my purpose, nor from the goodness that has been shown me and the other people of Telflamm here by the lady Justicar. Though it was perhaps practicality that has swayed her comrades, I know it was compassion that first moved her.

This is a final note,

I have long held my doubts to the validity of the "Martial" orders of Ilmater. Suddenly, the truth of his words, and the vows I have taken for peace and non-violence become so starkly clear. Ilmater teaches to do no violence, but there are some among his faith who have clearly misinterpreted his words concerning "the open hand" to mean that its perfectly okay to hurt so long as you use your hands rather than a weapon.

Now that I have seen the evil done by Sister Calinda, I can only surmise that Ilmater's council, as always was meant to be taken litterally. Once you allow violence into youre heart, the powers of evil gain a stronger hold over you. Calinda, had allowed evil to creep into her soul, wether by spell or choice, and now has done henious evil to men and even to our crying lord. Had she followed the word of Ilmater more closely and realized that Ilmater alone begs peace and non-violence of all the pantheon, then perhaps her soul would not have been weakened by the introduction of violence into her heart... and perhaps she would not have fallen into darkness.

There simply is not now, nor ever will be a need for martial orders of Ilmater. This need was long ago fullfilled by the formation of the Triad. Tyr and Torm provide Ilmater's sword and shield, and Ilmater alone must provide the beating heart which tempers each with compassion and mercy. A heart whose hand knows violence will never truly know mercy... not in the same way.

Abby Winters

[*Abby]

It is with gladness that I now write this account at the desk in my quarters in our new Santuary of Ilmater. The last few days have been busy to say the least, fortunatley I have had help. Brother Marcus arrived to help and brought with him two healers to help me in the infirmery. Ive also inducted a new sister from the docks. Sister Adolina will help in the kitchen, and for the first time, we are truly able to make a differance.

Since we opened our doors, we've been able to supply treatment and nourishment to a steady supply of people and I believe we shall be able to make a real dent in the condition of these people.

I shall have to make a note that our healers are not available for bug extermination or clean-up work for nobles however. I should think my armor will never smell right again after being preasured into a strange job by a lady Aliysan Wunderland and her husband Monty. As it happens, she and her hsuband had been gone for nearly a year and their house had been overrun by the worst vermin infestation immaginable. Had my two halfing friends, Shabba and Birbac not so desperatly wanted to take on this job, I would have flatley refused. On the bright side, they did manage to clense the home of vermin, even if I had to clense them of Filth Fevor afterwords.

I did however refuse lady Wunderland's request to clean her premisis. I tried to put it as politley as possible. It is somewhat irksome to me however that this noble woman thought it perfectly reasonable to take a trained healer away from her duties that I might spend my time cleaning her messy house rather than clensing disease and injuries from people who suffer in the docks.

Anyway, I am thankful that all of this business has kept me busy and therefore dwelling less upon the recent happenings that have kept me dwelling in grief. At night, I am finding it increasingly difficult to sleep, though, a new friend named Ridian who took the time to listen to my saddness did help to lift my palor. I believe I was able to help him with council, and in turn he did the same for me.

Strangely, Ridian is the very man with whom I entered into debate with concerning Celestials. I perhaps begin to see where his pecimism toward goodness has come from. It is clear that he'd lost someone dear to him, yet, unlike me, Ridian is elvish. When one puts it into perspective, my own eartlhy woes seem faint comparative to the centuries of pain he might feel. I lost my own family at 9, and though I have lost friends in the interm, I cannot concieve of what it must be to loose one you've loved for centuries... and have all the ages of an elvish lifespan to spend without them. For me it has always been a comfort to know that though I may know loss and pain in this life, it is only a small span of years compaired to the aeons I shall spend in the house of the Triad with my loved ones. Yet, if I had centuries of life to live... well.. I believe I understand now why the elves so oft pass away from grief.

I also met a strange individual whilst walking through the docks yesterday. He was as an elf, and yet his skin was of a dark purple hew. His eyes were of gold, and held no pupil. Though he took a strange satisfaction from frightening me with his speach and mannerisms, and made attempt to offend me with lewd remarks, I think these were more the habits of a deep set bitterness which comes from living as an outcast rather than any true wickedness. Anyway, after working with those whom I have worked with, even the most baseless of drunken sailors will have trouble offending my sensibilities. Still I wonder if I shall see this one again. He seemed somewhat intrigued by me, though I cannot imagine why. Tis possible kindness without motivation is something he is wholly unaccustomed too. His demenor softened by the end of our talk, and he wished me well.

Abby

[*Abby]

I have been giving thought to the title "Painbearer," as I have recently been addressed in this manner by several people. Though at first, it seems to refrences the willingness of the Ilmatri to shoulder the suffering of others in times of need, I cannot but wonder if the title comes more from a misunderstanding of our faith?

In all my years, I have met only one of my faith who desired pain. When I was 15, Brother Semus of the Longmores came to stay at our temple on his pilgramage to Damara. He was a practicioner of self flagellation, the process of inflicting injury to ones self. We were all somewhat uncomfortable with him as he held strange manerisms and seemed to constantly be locked in internal struggle, especially in his dealings with the sisterhood. During his third day at our temple, brother Seamus began to stab his hands repeatedly with a fork as we broke bread in the evening repast, crying out that he should suffer to clense his soul of evil and temptation. In the struggle that followed trying to seperate him from his fork, many deep and bloody scars were discovered marring the flesh of his back and shoulders. Father Patrick expelled brother Semus after angry words which passed soon after.

Even moreso than the "martial" sects of Ilmater's faith, these men I believe have grieviously mis-interpreted the words of our lord. Ilmater himself feels directly all the suffering in the world accutley and long after it has passed from memory of mortal man. Therefore, for love of our patron and of our fellow man, it is our duty to lessen the suffering in this world, not to add to it. Those who bring suffering, even upon themselves, rather than lessening it are not doing Ilmater's work, but rather, the work of Loviatar the wicked. We, the Broken One's flock, should never seek suffering in and of itself. Rather, our lot is to find the courage to shoulder the suffering of others in order to bring respite to them.

Though few in number, I believe that the self flagellaters have done much to skew the view that many hold of Ilmater and his flock. It is because of this that we are so oft viewed as madmen who rave and suffer as needless martyrs. It is my hope that I shall be able to change this perception, if even for but a few.

Abby

[*Abby]

Today was a difficult day to bare, and it is with heavy heart that I write here. I have recently met two paladins who come from seperate orders dedicated to Ilmater in name. I met ser Rynn a few days ago, and I am so fond of him. He is so noble and filled with Zeal. He reminds me strongly of the knights of the triad whom I have quested with in the past, and yet... there is more to him. I can see that he has within him the same compassion which we of the Crying Lord bear. Sadly he is conflicted. The desire to act out of compassion is there, and yet he is clouded by a strict military doctrine which he believes to be the will of Ilmater.

The other is a young lady named Calia Fallenheart. Though we have only just met, I am finding myself so much at odds with her. I have no doubt she is good and noble, yet, in her I see a strong lean toward the tenents of duty and loyalty that I would expect from a knight of Torm or Tyr.

I shall start from the beggining. When first I met her, I entered the Santuary to find her and ser Rynn speaking. When I joined them, I was followed soon after by Ser Damien, the tiefling who helped me to realize the Santuary with his donations and kindness. Almost immediatly, the lady Calia said that she felt evil in him and would watch him closley. She treated him so coldly, and insulted him by refusing to sit at a table with him or discourse with him. Damien struggles against a dark nature it is true, I do not doubt her or ser Rynn's word. And yet... Do I not bring out the best in him with kindness and understanding? Does Ilmater not preach forgiveness and to win your foes with kindness? Judging from the cold reception given ser Damien by the lady... I cannot believe she will ever win any hearts away from darkness. Once again, I am reminded starkly of a dutiful knight of Tyr. I could tell Ser Rynn was conflicted already because he knew that I spoke highly of Damein, and yet he felt the evil within his teifling soul as well.

But is evil not weakness? Is it not our place as healers in service to the lord of mercy and compassion to do what we can to show those who are weaker than ourselves in spirit a better way? How are we to know what has made men as they are? Lack of kindness? Lack of understanding? If I can bring out the goodness in someone by showing them what it is to "be" good... then is this not the very principal our lord Ilmater teaches? What hope has a man like Damien to ever change his heart if he is confronted with cold warnings and veiled threats about his nature? What allure is there to join those who judge and care nothing for circumstance or unhappy chance that makes people as they are... that care nothing for redemption?

In our pantheon, there are gods enough to turn to for judgment and vigilance, or the smiting of evil without thought. Only in Ilmater alone is there the hope of understanding to all who would hope to change. Only through Ilmater can those who are cruel be shown kindness that they may learn what they have never had. Yet why do his paladins not understand that Ilmater alone is differant? Why do they see things so black and white?

The next ill turn came when a call to adventures went up concerning a sudden and terrible goblin raid upon the Golden Way, near the river. The goblins had swarmed from their holdings and butchered merchants and caravans along the road. I went as swiftly as I could to give aid and hopefully help survivors or prisoners.

Among those who answered the call was ser Damian and a handful of other adventurers. Unfortunately two were servants of dark gods. The first I could deal with as he seemed mearly misguided, but the other was a vile woman in service to the lord of Tyrants whom I had had the misfortune of meeting before. I was very uncomfortable in her presence, and yet was unwilling to allow the goblins to continue their rampage at the cost of more innocent lives. Apparently most of the adventurers there were hoping for a reward or some other end.

After the first battles, I was grievously wounded, but pulled back from the brink by ser Rynn. He and lady Calia had come! My heart was flooded with relief, but alas it was short lived. The lady Calia flatley refused to travel in the company of those around us. Ser Rynn also then refused, but his wish to protect me was apparent.

I could not belive it. Here, a murderous tribe of goblins had stained the roads with innocent blood, and obviously would not stop their raiding. Whats more, they seemed to know me by name... and yet my own bretherin would not go with me to prevent the goblins from harming more innocents... simply because they had sworn never to collaborate with those of a dark nature. And yet these "evil" people were all willing to risk life and limb to put an end to this threat. Perhaps for some of them their motivations were not moral... but they were fighting for a good end. How could I in good conscious ignore my duty and let people fight and die to protect others without giving what aid I could? How could I stand by and let them go alone, knowing that without a healer there was every chance they would fail and perish, and that the goblins would then be back to kill more innocents.. this time baring the powerful arms of the fallen who had gone into battle without a healer? How many more travelers' families would have to wait for loved ones who would never be coming home?

I regret that I had angry words for them both. I simply did not understand why they wouldn't help us.. and yet I wish i'd been kinder in speach. I might have lost courage to go on when they they refused as I am afraid of the Banite woman. However Ser Damien was there, and I knew he would protect me.

And yet, my heart had further yet to fall... Upon returning, I met ser Rynn in the Santuary. I must speak openly here. For him I feel a great swell of pity because I know that his heart is torn and he is filled with pain. Yet now my heart is also filled with pain, for what he said to me broke it.

This was begun earlier when ser Damien had come to visit the santuary. We had been discussing young Will. That poor sweet boy who is even now being twisted and tortured by those villianous hags.. used as a weapon. Though we are still idle, awaiting lady Elyenna's report which we hope will give us the only hope of defeating the monsters that holds young Will, we spoke of how we might raise a force of soldiers or adventurers for the cause.

I explained that my fear was that when it comes time to move, we simply would not be able to find enough goodly men who would act out of charity alone in Telfflamm to augment a proper fighting force. And though I was hopeful that the High Justicar would help us.. I suggested that we should be prepared to higher mercenaries if needs be. The trouble was, I am without means to do so because of our lack of funds. That is when Ser Damien said he would offer a 4000 lion reward to be split among the group who helped us free young Will. I was gracious for his aid, as it meant for certain that I would be able to get the men needed to have a hope of saving poor Will in case ser Rynn was unable to find the numbers needed.

When I came into the Santuary after stopping the goblins, Ser Rynn told me that if I hired any one using gold which s-ser Damien had offered... he would take no part in the rescue of young Will. He implored me to consider that his vows would not permit him to work with evil in any way. That is when I realized to my sorrow that he and lady Calia were both content to allow an innocent boy to die before they would ever break their knightly vows and use the help of a man they deem to be evil... despite him never showing anything but utter generosity and good will.

How can he beileve this to be Ilmater's will? In our scriptures it is written that Ilmater himself would sacrifice his own life for another, and yet knights sworn to his service will not even sacrifice their own honor or break with a simple vow in order to save a young child? Is Will's life so meaningless that he isn't worth sullying one's self for?

Were I a paladin... I swear I would sacrifice my life and my paladinhood both if they prohibited me from taking that sweet boy from death and giving him a chance for happiness.

I have told Ser Rynn that I would stave off Damien's offer as long as I could, however I will not let Will suffer in the hands of these monsters whilst he struggles to find numbers. If he cannot assemble a force that holds any prayer of succeeding, then I must take Damien to his offer and hire men to get the job done. Will deserves that. Anyone with a beating heart must know that.

Ser Rynn wishes to join the clergy, and I believe in him. I believe that deep down, his heart hears Ilmater's words. Yet if there is to be any hope that he will come to understand what it is to act through compassion for the greater good, then he will have to shrug off the military doctrine which clouds his heart and limits his goodness.

I believe this doctrine has been reenforced in him by lady Calia... and I can only hope that somehow I may get through to her as well. For now, I fear only for Will. It seems I am to be either short-handed, or alone in a company of strangers I cannot trust. Either way lessen's young Will's hope for survival.

My last thought before I retire concerns this vow which paladins in service to our lord must swear. To refuse to do good if evil has aided in any way? Can these knights understand how counter-productive to spreading goodness this is? How very much it ruins any hope of redemption for those who are trying to turn their lives around? Am I to tear down this Santuary to Ilmater and take the food from the mouthes of the starving people who depend upon us just because it was in part the donations of ser Damien who made it possible? I do not know the nature of evil that is within that man... but if donating to a good cause and bettering the lives of others gives him a pathway to the light, or some measure of satisfaction in doing something good, then bless him and may our lord show him to the light in the end.

I am in the business of saving lives and giving hope to those who have none. I do not have the luxury of refusing whatever aid I can get for the impoverished peoples of this city. If the dark lord himself wants to come down and donate bread.. well then we'll take it so long as it is free of poison and without hidden cost. And if I must ally myself with theives and sell swords in order to deliver young Will from a terrible fate, then that is exactly what I shall do. When we sacrifice ourselves, Ilmater is with us.

Abby

[*Abby]

I have been filled with a sense of peace and purpose that I have been missing for some time now. I suppose it is not so strange that a brush with death would invigorate and give purpose to the person whose life was spared. Afterall, only when faced with ones mortality can we truly understand how much there is to live for. And though I may be atypical in this reguard due to my secret wish, it was the manner to which myself and my friends were spared that has filled me with happiness.

It all started when a dear friend of mine, Shabba Wryn came to call on me in the Santuary. She is one of my oldest friends here, and like so many of her kindred is an avid explorer and treasure hunter. Since the day that I healed her from a mortal wound, she has always remained close by to serve as my "body guard." It makes me smile to consider, but this day, as usual, her visit was centering around a strange sea chart she had happened across. I knew at once by the eager light in her eye that she would be off to adventure, and that I would doubtlessly be in tow.

Already at the Santuary with me were ser Damein and brother Rynn. I invited Rynn to accompany us, however this created tension as ser Rynn knew that if I invited ser Damien to come along, he himself would have to stay out because of his... well.. for sake of politness... vows. For a moment I feared I would have to explain to ser Damien that i didnt want his company, but the ser, with his usual tact and kindness excused himself from our venture by making an excuse of having other business. I could have hugged him.

I feel so bad for Damien. It seems unfair that he should be so mistreated by my own bretherin. Though in all fairness.. ser Ryn is nothing but polite to him, even if it is a honey coating over a gentle persecution. I know that Rynn takes no pleasure in this, and I know that his feelings are likley true about ser Damien. In my hope to find the good in everyone, I will, in all likeliness come to a bad end if I should lack friends to protet me from my overy trusting nature. I have to wonder if maybe this is not the purpose of the Paladin orders of our lord. To be the shield to protect us from our own gentle natures as healers. It is a pity that the knighthood's vows dont allow them to follow Ilmater's healers in all their work. For unlike the knighthood, I can little afford to be choosey about which aid I accept, and have no lmitation on when I am allowed to help those in need. I fear that when I do need my knight to save me from my own foolishness, he'll not be there.

However I digress. Back to the adventure. When we reached the small island at mid day, we noticed a tall masted ship anchored off the coast. There was a fresh camp set out, and yet we could find no one. With some worry, we began to explore, seeking any sign of the sailors. It was not long before we were set upon in a fierce ambush. A form of strange lizard people sprang from the tall grasses and a nearby bog. It was as close a battle as ive been in, though we prevailed with a host of wounds which I then tended. Many of the creatures came straight for me... and even saw through Ilmater's santuary without difficulty.

Hopeful that the worst had passed, and that we had broken the strength of our enemies.. we continued abroad, seeking sign of the lost sailors. I fear we were walking blindly into a trap. We encountered small pockets of the creatures who would shoot at us with bow and arrow. Here again, they seemed to be targetting me directly, even when Rynn and Shabba were upon them, they would try to shoot me in the distance, or evade the warriors and come at me with axe or club. Thrice blessed be ser Damien for the armor he donated to me. I would have long been dead and gone if not for it.

The conflicts were small and though fierce were the warriors among these lizard creatures, they were no match against Shabba and ser Rynn whilst kept fresh with Ilmater's blessings. Encouraged by our success.. we ventured deeper into the jaws of our enemy. We saw before us near the beach a wooden pallisade, though all seemed quiet within. As we drew nearer.. expecting to find for certain within sign of the lost sailors, the trap was sprung.

The lizards began to pour forth from the gate of the crude fortification like angry wasps from a shaken hive. We were driven back in a desperate retreat which soon turned into a route. Chased all about the island, we finally made our stand, knowing that we had not the strength to escape. The battle was hopeless... I kept Shabba and Rynn to strengh as best I could, even as I myself was set upon by spear and arrow... but then my own strength gave out and I had no more left in me. I knew that to channel any more of Ilmater's strength would overwhelm me and I would not survive.

Then, at the last, there was a burst of golden radiance before us that scattered our foes. From out of the light stepped a being of such pure radiant beauty that I had no breath in me... The lizards fell away from her in terror... those foolish enough to come against her were hewn as wheat to the syth. Soon, we were alone, basking in the golden light of the heavens. All of our foemen had fled or been laid low by the golden sword of our celestial savior. She turned to face us and when I saw her standing there, tall and mighty, all of the world faded around her. How does one describe in mortal terms a being of the heavens? How can one convey the awe and splender of so elemental and eternal a personification of celestial beauty and power? Her eyes were pools of radiant gold that bespoke of ageless wisdom, and when she spoke it filled me like the rolling of distant thunder, even as it soothed me like soft music.

She had been sent by Ilmater, and bore his word to me. Of those words I shall never put to ink and quill because somehow I feel that to record them in so crude a mortal fashion will take from them. They were given to me and in me they shall remain. It was these words that have filled me with peace and hope. I know now that Ilmater is all around me and blesses my works... and though I never doubted the rightness of what I am doing during my short stay upon Faerun, the shadow of doubt always seeks even the most devout of hearts. It shall never again hold any sway over me.

Yet with my lords blessing came also a warning. I only hope that I will find a way to protect myself from what I was warned against. It is clear to me that my lord does not wish me to perish yet, and that he has purpose for me here still to accompish some end. For the sake of young Will, I am eternally grateful of this.

I begin to wonder if ser Rynn was sent to me for another purpose beyond a guardian or fellow healer? I wonder if in truth, we are to learn from each other. I have always lived with prejudice against the martial branches of Ilmater's faith. What if Rynn was sent to me to show me that these knights can and do serve Ilmater, and that Ilmater guides them. And perhaps I was sent to Rynn to show him that sometimes doctrine and order must be sacrificed for compassion and mercy. That protecting life must come first before all other forms of duty.

Will we not be stonger as a whole than as two apart? It is so alike to the union of the Triad. The sword of justice and shield of duty protecting the weak, and yet tempered and guided toward compassion and mercy by the beating heart of the healer.

I believe this is the will of Ilmater, and his messanger has made whole my resolve and given me peace in that the path I follow will not be in vane.

Abby

[*Abby]

I believe it was the feather that at last gave me the courage to face this journal again. I have no idea how a token which was the measure of an unspeakable evil has somehow become a symbol which is inexplicably precious to me. Yet here it is, partly burned and mistreated, yet whole. I feel a great swell of gratitude for Damien to have returned it to me when I thought it lost. It is all I have left of her... the only angel I have ever seen.

To begin with, the unescapable and crushing despair I felt with the first waves of fury were wholly foriegn to me. I am like any other human, and to this end, I feel anger as do others. The anger of a god is like nothing I can describe however. Before it I was naked and helpless, even as I knew the rightness and justness of it. For though a pitiful thing beside, my own anger was such as I had never felt before.

Can there be any crime so utterly evil and filled with wrongness than to bind such a being of purity and boundless love to this realm, and murder her? And for what? To prove some misguided point? Does she not realise that whatever prize she has felt she gained in self satisfaction will matter not at all when the others come for her? The heavens shake in wrathful fury and there can be little doubt the Celestials will punish her for the sensless murder of one of their own. A murder fueled only by a desire to augment her own pride in service to a Tyrant.

I can only surmise that the Banite wished to test my vows. Did she not realize that I am no paladin? My vows are important to me... but the will of my lord outweighs such trivial mortal confines. Our vows as healers were written to aid us in following our calling. Each is there to remove obsticles that would prevent us from compassoin and mercy. Protect us against would-be enemies and crimes. Protect us from temptation. There are no vows among my fellow healers that would prevent us from doing the will of our lord. And if ever there were... we would drop them swiftly and carry out Ilmater's will... or in this case, his wrath.

I feel a bitter and hollow place in me, knowing that I have failed my lord. But truth be told... I was well aware I would fail when first his wrath coursed into me. I am just not a strong person, and I was never meant for battles or warring. I take solice only in that at least, I found the courage to face her... even if I knew I could not hope to master her. I did what I could, and ser Rynn and I fought her with all that we had, but in the end, we had not the strength. It was well for us that we both lived.

But in the aftermath of that failure, though it shames me in some way to say so... I am glad of my weakness. When I consider truthfully what I might have done... had I struck down that woman with that terrible power put in me... I feel dirty. I have never taken a life, and when Ilmater's wrath flowed into me, I felt nothing of the gentle power of healing left in my soul. Only dark anger. It terrified me, and even now the blackness of that mood will not wash away fully. My only santuary is knowing that in trying to fullfill that terrible duty, I was spared the taking of life. And at least in that, I am still whole and unblemished.

Perhaps as healers, it is our weakness which is our greatest strength.

I can only hope now that whatever this woman was trying to proove, she will feel justified and satisfied in accomplishing it. Perhaps she will no longer feel a need to hurt others to provoke the wrath of my god... and in so doing.. his servant.

I have no strength to oppose the tyrants of Bane in their self defeating quest to be feared. Their opposition must in the end be themselves when they awaken one day and realize that power is lonely and that the god of Tyrants holds no love for his servants. There may come a day, if the Celestials are merciful, when she understands that all her power is nothing more than a prison house to which she herself has thrown away the key.

However, there is one dark god whose servants I am well suited to dealing with... and that is Talona. Im not sure how he expected to sneak something so common in the docks as Filth Fevor past healers of Ilmater, but such as it is, he thought to try anyway. I know that the law in Telflamm often looks the other way in small matters.. however of one thing there can be no doubt: The merchant council does not look with leinancy upon those who cost them gold. A quaranteen caused by intentionaly spreading plague through the docks would have been a very grievious blow to the coffers of this city and her merchants. I feel a great swell of pity for this priest when we inform the captain of the watch of his attempts to contaminate our soup and spread his epidemic.

May they be merciful. Christopher is as misguided as they come and I feel sorry for him.

[*Abby]

Well Will is back safe at last, and for the time being, he's staying at the Santuary with Rynn and I. Though I am vastly grateful and relieved that he is at least in a safe place, I admit I am more worried than ever for our safety here.

The preist of Talona is behind bars, Drussila is destroyed and even the Nine Golden Swords are deminished, though certainly not gone. I should have felt safer... and yet...

Yesterday I was approached by members of the Nine Golden Swords who had come seeking answers as to why members of their gang had died in my hospital. It could have been an oppertunity to insure saftey for our santuary and for young Will, were it not for the stubborness of dwarves.

I was approached by a male and female Shou who I guessed to be Golden Swords. They wished to speak to me in private, but Rynn and Grannitt both wishing to keep me from harm began to refuse. Of course, if the Shou had wanted me dead, id have been dead in my sleep the night before. So I asked them to relent and let me speak to the shou. Rynn of course understood, however Grannitt would not.

Despite me begging and even resorting to injuring myself, he would not stop with his confrontational aggression toward the two Shou, esspecially the male who had a sword drawn. Those who feel they are in power obviously feel no desire to submit, this is true for both the shou who would not sheath his sword and the dwarf who would gladly see everyone around him dead before he would back down from a fight. Eventually his utter inability to contain his temper or think of anything besides his own pride caused a fight. He slew the woman's bodyguard, though he did not strike first. Its as though he simply does not understand that this one bodyguard is one of many. And probably one of the least.

I was so mad. I told Grannitt to go away, but he refused! He insisted on protecting me even as his actions drew a shou dagger across my throat. Even when I cast a link between the Shou and myself so that I would share her wounds, he continued to point a crossbow at her! I spoke with her as best I could, and she spoke kindley and with understanding when I tried to smooth things over. She said that I would be in no danger, and even agreed to spare Grannitt.

In thinking back, I believe this was a lie. She said this probably out of fear. I doubt she had any companions with her beyond her body guard and certainly hadn't expected... Grannitt. What was she supposed to say with a crossbow pointed at her face? Any threat and Grannitt would have been upon her I am certain of it, even if every stroke from his axe cut me as well as her because of my spell. In all likleyhood... her men are gathering to eliminate both of us. Perhaps Grannitt will be able to defend himself. As for young Will and my fellow healers... well, I am afraid, and thats all I can say.

I tried to speak with Grannitt later, but all his mind registers is how he was insulted. He has no grasp of what he may have done, has no thought to "why" Rynn and I were angry. And his skull is simply too thick to talk to. It is my hope that some of my words will eventually sink in. I am utterly saddened by all of this. Grannitt was one of my few loyal friends, and I had always felt safer with him. Those who would harm me and the Santuary are all around me, Banites, Loviatars... and gods only know what else. My list of friends, however, grows thinner by the day. I truly want to be able to help Grannitt understand and realize that he can, while trying to protect, cause me more danger. If I can get though to him, perhaps next time he will use more caution. In all fairness, I shouldn't juge him too harshly. He is, after all, a dwarf.

I can only surmise that because dwarves are so open and honest in their own homelands that they simply do not understand what it is to live among men. Poor Grannitt cannot comprehend that things are not as simple as they appear because among his own kin, there are no thieves guilds or corrupt governments. Quit simply, its beyond his experiance as a dwarf. To him, fights are straight forward and secrets are for evil people. And while I respect him for this, we do not live in a dwarven city. In his desire to protect me, he may have sealed my fate.. and the fate of our Santuary. If by some thin luck this isn't the case, im going to have to stay away from him until he can understand what it is to live among men. I cannot risk the Santuary and certainly not young Will.

I wonder if I will ever feel safe here? As ser Damien and Rynn both said; I must endure. At least I do have true friends remaining. I only hope I can hold onto them.

Abby

[*Abby]

We are in the eye of the storm I believe. It is calm now.. but for how long, I cannot say. Of late, things have been tramatic, and I think all of us here have been under a lot of strain and stress. The cause of all of this was when Rynn, Grannitt (whom I have made up with) and I learned that a group within the city watch were corrput and working with the Banite Asenath. We were thrown into jail and the watchman Yegor said he would only release us if we agreed to keep quiet as to what we'd seen. However, when I refused... and told him I would go straight to lady Valla... he released us reluctantly anyway... in return for the help I had given his late sister-in-law. He made it clear however that it was the last favor he owed me. I could see clearly that not all of his men were in agreement with our release.

Fearing we might expose them, some of the watch took it upon themselves to show us clearly the danger we were in. A week ago, Adolina went missing, and when I found her, she was being harrassed by three watchmen, one of whom I recognised from the shou town warehouse where Rynn and I learned of this corruption.

Im afraid I was not diplomatic in my treatment of them. I must say however, I am touched deeply in that in this moment, many people.. even strangers came to my side, surrounding those thugs. Like any bully, when shown force, they fled with their tails between their legs. However... in doing this, in loosing my temper.. I have done harm to my Santuary.

Later we met with Yegor who pleaded with me to remain silent as to what I had seen. He made it clear that he meant me no harm, but that if I insisted on working against him, we'd be arrested on false charges. Rynn refused to work with him and promised to inform the chief of his misdeeds. I myself stayed vague. In looking back, I wish id just submitted. We have not yet taken any action, and I dearly hope Yegor sees that as a sign that we will not interfier. Though, in actuality, we mearly await the summons of lady Valla before we can know what to do. In my heart, I want to oppose them, but in my mind I understand that the Santuary is vastly more important and so I shall seek a way to remain neutral as always.

Fearing that the corrupt watch would send thugs to the Santuary, I begged the League of Avenging Hammers to send knights to protect us. Rynn was not happy at first.. however I think I have convinced him of the neccesity. I do not believe any organization in the city, not even the Shadowmasters would dare to attack Lady Valla's men directly as it would be the same as attacking her own League.

Yet these knights in my santuary provides a new problem. It will anger the Shadowmasters. I only hope that when we meet with lady Valla, she will have some advice or way to be rid of these corrupt guardsmen that we might open our santuary back up to the thieves and explain that it was for our lives that we posted guards. My cheif fear now, is that the corrupt watchmen are in League with the Shadowmasters, in which case we may soon find our Santuary has become an ill equiped fortress under siege.

I do not believe this to be the case however. My guesses lay closer to Thay or just Bane when considering any possible alliance these watchmen may have. I hope that it will be resolved soon. The strain has been difficult on all of us.

I had a bad fight with Rynn a few days ago. It was about his Paladin vows in a way... though I believe the true reason may have been deeper and more personal. In that moment, I was so hurt thinking that he would let me go alone into danger before breaking his vow. But it was cruel of me to assume, and I can only believe it was the recent stress of late that caused such an outburst from me.

I cannot begin to understand how hard it must be for a knight of Ilmater to have to set his concious aside in order to follow Tormite law, and so I shall not question him again. I will simply trust him to do the right thing when the times comes. I think now that what I said was terrible. And very ungrateful. Though we may not agree on everything, it is simply not my place to judge. This is true not only for others, but esspecially for those who worship the same lord I do. From now on, I shall take ser Rynn for what he is, and be appreciative of it, rather than begrudge what he is not (if indeed he is not).

This lesson was made all the more real when reciently, I nearly lost him. And not just him, but ser Damien as well. In one fell stroke, I nearly lost the two men who have helped and cared most for me and my santuary. It was with the blessing of Ilmater alone that I somehow escaped death and found men brave enough to lend aid. Thanks to these men, Damien and Rynn have been delivered from death and are with me again. Without them, I simply do not know if id have had the strength to go on.

With them returned to me, I look on our situation with more hope, and even all that assails us does not seem so insurmountable any longer. I can endure I think.

I will also write of a man I met recently. He is a mercenary named Leopold, and it was because of him alone that Rynn and Damien have not been lost to me. The others I met were at first unwilling to lend me their help, and rightly so. Against the host of ogres and giants that had slain Rynn and Damien... there was no victory without a great force, and they well knew it. Yet Leopold was differant, when he charged off, I followed. And only through a desire to help me did the others come.. some more reluctant than others. As to Leopold... it was not bravery or zeal that inspired him to act. It was duty, and a kind of apathy. I shall elaborate so that I might draw my thoughts closer to the true meaning.

Leopold accepted the job, once I told him that I could pay him with Rynn's gold. Once taken... he charged ahead to do the deed.. even when I told him he had no chance. Some would say that it was bravery boardering on fanatasism. I do not think this is so. I believe this man has lost all meaning in his life. I believe he has known a pain that has shut him down to fear of death, compassion and every other spark that makes us human. All that he has left, is duty. We Ilmateri have always said that there is solice in duty, for this man, Leopold... I believe this to be true. And I believe he secretly hopes to find his end in this.

Sadly it is only hindsight in which I write this, because already I have had hard words with him on moral differances we hold. I hope that I havent damaged any chance I might yet have had of trying to help him.

As for Mad-Eye as he is known. Rynn was absolutley correct I think. This man is dangerous, and a killer I have no doubt. However, he is also very much insane and may not even realize what he is... though I think he probably does know. His words deny that he is evil, yet at the same time betray a bitterness and lack of compassion that marks him as a very dangerous person who may very well hurt someone if he is not helped. Though how to help such a man... I simply do not know.

And so here I will close with but one final thought. In reading over my earlier entries, I touch upon the debait I held concerning the nature of Celestials. I realize I made an error in my analogy of the nature of the warfare waged over the souls of men between the Infernal and Abysmal, and the Celestial and heavenly. Previously I likened this to a tug-of-war in which men were drawn each way. This is wrong.

The reason that people can invision complete and unredemable evil, and not unwavering and total good is because of the nature of these forces. The analogy I shall use now is that we mortals cling to a great mountain side. At the top, the Celestials call to us, beckoning us to find the strength within ourselves to climb and join them atop Mount Celestia. But the climb is hard, and it is easy to grow tired, or to loose hope and falter.

At the bottom, the pit of hell yawns beneith us. Here, the infernal tempt us to simply let go. For to fall into evil is as easy as letting go. All of our struggles can so easily be ended by mearly letting one's self fall into the Abyss. Yet we mortals forget about what awaits us at the bottom.

And so, to put plainly. We cannot picture complete an uncorruptable goodness, such as the Celestials are because the climb toward goodness is infinitley more difficult for mortal men than simply letting go and slipping into evil.

In order to understand that the Celestials cannot be corrputed or moved to evil is as simple as realizing that the heavenly beings were created with wings and can therefore never fall.

In these legends of Celestials which have been corrupted, it is clear to me that their wings must have been taken from them by some evil outside of themselves. Evil is no more a part of a celestial than compassion is a part of a demon.

Abby