Much has happened. My hands still shake thinking of the revelations. For the first time I feel like this record I keep might be of more importance than I ever thought, considering what I have found out. My thoughts are scattered, disjointed, chaotic with it, but I shall try, now more than ever, to give a faithful recording of events.
The group is working well together in combat despite the odds against us, but at the same time there are fractures within. Koraliki has gone. We found her belongings entirely absent one morning, except for a neat pile of a couple of items such as the teleportation cloak I had once given her, and there has been no sign of her since. No word of goodbye, but then she very rarely used words compared to actions. My argument with Idris has not been mentioned again, but after recent events Siax seems displeased with me, much as I am frustrated with him. His loyalty to the group has been a boon, but he has been taking it to suicidal levels and attempting to drag the entire group along with him. I have to remind myself that he is still young for an elf, having not gained the maturity or experience of his people. I may have to speak with him when his mood has mellowed, when his emotions are more stable. It is not something I relish on any count, but if we are to succeed on the mountains, there cannot be divisions like that.
Now more than ever, it is imperative that we kill the dragon. I had not really cared to fight the dragon, especially if we did not need to. I would much rather have avoided it and put the dead to rest without bothering it. But, as I said, much has happened, and that is no longer possible. I had honestly not wished to fight Grannoc either, there was no objective need for me to since we had found there was no cold weather supplies in the Manse. But fight we did.
Idris's impulsivity caused problems, first by picking up small twig dolls from a fireplace that had been bespelled, and then cutting through into the next room while both Zenari and Siax were still in great need of healing. It made everything so much more difficult to the point where I thought it likely we would all die there. Perhaps this was so, for the cowled figure of the Three appeared to me, spoke to me in the midst of that battle as everything froze around me once more.
I could not have guessed the knowledge that was given to me there. The Three, these spirits that were so powerful, they were Gods! Or former Gods, I do not know. I had always thought of them as the Three, merely for the number and I had nothing else to name them, but they are collectively 'The Dead Three', all death deities that worked together before, and seemingly after, the Time of Troubles. It makes sense that if any could survive that time, it would be those whose domain had ruled death in its various forms.
Myrkul, Bane, and Bhaal.
It makes so much more sense, their sheer power; how they were able to merely ride in and all the dead in Axeholm were suddenly put to rest in an instant. The power of Gods was not to be underestimated, even if they were not as they once were.
Now, hours after a battle, it is the thought that I had been speaking with Gods, seeing Gods, that has my hands shake, making writing difficult. I think back on some of the small comments made and see them in a different light. They once called themselves my guides, back in Axeholm, but the one I now know as Bane said 'like it or not.' Are they forced into this position of being a guide to me by some other force? Or was it merely my own preferences that were being considered? I do not think I have ever shown displeasure with them, but they are Gods and who is to know what they see? I remember being worried, greatly, around that time as to the test, so I do not know.
I still do not know why they need or are interested in me. It certainly has something to do with the pendant, that was made clear. Myrkul told me, in that frozen moment, that the pendant had bound itself to me, and so perhaps it is that power, one they want to increase, that is what interests them, with me a pawn on their chessboard.
It is worrying that I, who have never wanted to involve myself in the drama of humanity, might be dragged into one with Gods. If there is anything I have come to know it is that Gods do not like giving up their power, and I know the Dead Three were certainly not of the sort to do so willingly considering the stories of them.
I had thought that there was just a task as part of my regular duties that I was being coached and tested in order to perform more successfully, but I worry now that little in my future has to do with what I did in the past. Ever since coming to Phandalin my tasks have been different, more challenging, and less and less like my one before. I still put the dead to rest, but now I call upon them as guardians, I raise them to find out information, and now I have to help kill a dragon and capture its essence. It all comes back to the pendant on my chest, I think, the one that has always helped me do my duty on the mountains. It is different now, with the power I can feel from the gem in the heart of it. I am different because of it. I do not know what the future holds for me, but I am now tied to it, to Them.
In the Woodland Manse, when everything looked so dire, that it looked as if I might never get back to walking my path, Myrkul told me that they could help, but at a cost. I would have to kill the dragon, put it to rest, and get its essence, and then become an agent of The Dead Three. I would be changed, they said, never the same as my kin again, but I have never been the same as them, and I feared for the dead left abandoned on the mountains without anyone to tend to them. I agreed. The power of their voices combined in that pact still leave me shaking at the memory of it.
They called me 'remnant', and I do not know what they meant by that.
They said to put the dragon to rest, but capture its essence as a necessity, but I do not know what the difference is between the soul and the essence.
Nothing changed, when time reasserted itself in the aftermath of my agreement, but I did not expect it to. Their words told of it happening at the 'crossings of fate', so it is likely my final demise is when it shall happen. I do not know what they will do with me, then, but I cannot think that struggling against three Gods would be wise, nor why I would want to, considering they have helped me in the past.
We survived the Woodland Manse, and then afterwards we survived the attack at Falcon's Lodge against the orcs and the thunder boar they had summoned, despite the odds.
There is reassurance, in my agreement with the Dead Three, that my path will continue should I fall. My duty to the dead continuing even if I am not the same as I currently am. My duty, my path, has always been more important than things like race or community. I have been alone a long time, but for the tug of my attention towards the best way to tend to my duties. I should really try and find an apprentice, but now is not exactly the best time, or circumstance to train someone, even if I could find someone willing and eager to take on the task.
I fell twice in the fight at Falcon's Lodge, but my armour from Axeholm, and the homebrewed remedy that left me astoundingly drunk but conscious, revived me. As before, such brushes with death, true death, have left me feeling more powerful, more able to draw from beyond that doorway, the push and pull of energy so much more familiar than it once was. The others, too, seem to have gained more insight after the fight, although what insight Siax gained, I do not know. I hope it is more wisdom than he showed when all the orcs were gone.
I was very drunk at the time from the potion that had been given to revive me, barely clinging on with no further magic to call upon, as were the others after the battle, but Siax wanted to go chasing after Zenari, whose chaos magic had turned her into a horse that spooked and ran. Out of us all, Zenari had been hurt the least I think, and her magic has always been powerful. Spells wear off and we were in no state to travel. And yet Siax was determined to go look for her, to have the entire group, despite our state, go and hunt to get her back, no matter that she vastly outpaced us. It was not only foolish, but also suicidal. Not only were we in no state to do anything right then, but there were predators in the forest, and I could feel the dragon in the direction he wanted to head.
I tried to convey the fact that it was a fool's errand, that we would merely be providing the predators, and indeed the dragon, with an easy meal if we went, but I was terribly drunk and conveying diplomacy has never been my strong point. Zenari had survived a lot, and she was powerful and skilled. What did he think would happen, even if they did find her? If anything our bloodied states, our skill in traversing the forest under such duress, it would be a beacon that would harm rather than aid.
I refused to go.
I have not spoken to him since, when he took Falcon, also grievously wounded, and went out with him to search. His look of anger, of betrayal perhaps, stays with me, but only in the foolishness of that decision. Idris sent his imp to go and help find her, and as predicted, Zenari found her way to Siax, rather than the other way around, having managed to avoid an attack of the dragon by way of her magic. What Siax thought a drunken tabaxi that was both exhausted and barely clinging to life would help, I do not know. The elf needs to learn to better judge a situation with logic rather than impulse, or he will get himself and others killed.
I put all the dead to rest while they were away, despite my state. Years of such ceremonies made them ingrained and relatively easy despite my state. I do not know what the group will decide to do now. We still do not have any cold weather equipment, nor the amulet that controls the weather that I had hoped to gain from Grannoc. Seemingly, from the journal we found in the Woodland Manse, it was given to one of the head Talos anchorites. Inconveniently. We need that amulet, not only to stop the anchorites from summoning forth a huge storm to coat the coast, but because trying to traverse the mountains in a storm is suicide. I will try to encourage them to go after the amulet next, but first, sleep. Exhaustion pulls at me. It has been so very long since I slept well.