16 of Mais, Year of 1215
On this day, three souls found their way to Lotrad - an elf, an orc, and a human. They each met their demise by various fates: overdose, heart failure, and a fatal stab wound. The distinction between suicide and murder still shrouds the last case. I submitted an inquest. The day unfolded satisfactorily, characterized by the meticulous art of autopsies, administering of last rites, conducting denomination-specific ritual purifications, and the somber craft of embalming. In every respect, an excellent day.
In the later hours, I embarked on a visit to my dear friend Amaiur Eillar. His daughter Sana Eillar continues to grapple with life's trials. I extended an offer to expose her to the peculiar life of the Keepers, but Amaiur hesitated to guide her onto this illustrious path. My heart swells with sympathy for his tribulations, and I must discover a way to lend my expertise.
During my visit, a fortuitous turn of events brought Tor'in into my path, who, against all expectations, revealed himself to be of genteel character. He courteously accompanied me through the town's labyrinthine streets, which remain largely unfamiliar to me, and treated me to a lavish meal. The vegetables were exceptionally delectable, and I find myself inclined to revisit the establishment.
Subsequently, we strolled in companionable silence to the mausoleum. There, he not only returned the pilfered sword but also performed his own religious ritual. His actions left a profound impression on me. Perhaps Keeper Bisha is correct in her counsel, encouraging me to allocate my precious moments of respite away from the morgue.