I am bruised and battered. I cannot move. I must find out what happened. Demons everywhere. Dark Raiders....... shape shifters......blood.....

We sat cross legged in the House of Worship in the halls. I looked across at her lovely young face; full of hope and radiance as she spoke of her gods. I asked her to teach me. She had looked surprised, even anxious, at this, but she sat there and pulled herself up and looked every inch the cleric teaching a pupil. I asked her to open my eyes, as though for the first time, and tell me what being a cleric was and what it meant to her and what sort of life she would lead. As we spoke her eyes lit up and the words flowed from her as though from Cory's fountain. I kept my composure but found it so moving I had to speak rarely for fear of becoming too emotional. Eventually I stood and took her hand to help her up. Never have I seen anyone more ready in my life to become a cleric. I looked into her eyes and asked her if she was ready to follow for we would go now to the temple. Her face was like a child's who has just been handed some wonderful present. She looked awe struck, excited, anxious and there was even for a brief moment a flicker of fear, but all these things melted into a glorious anticipation.

I managed to get word to some of my dear brothers who have taken such a keen interest (as have many) in her progress. It was so lovely for me, and I hope for her, to see them waiting at the oasis with grins on their faces. It seems everyone has been waiting for this day, not just the apprentice! I was so sorry that dear Purazon could not be there. We spent a few moments before I glanced up at the light and realised we must move quickly. I saw on her face the same amazement I had felt that first time when she glimpsed the temple entrance almost hidden by the blowing sands. We had a few moments to talk on what to expect and then she was gone. Safely through the door much to my relief, and thanks largely to my brethren for I must confess my mind went blank with all the excitement and the worry of not doing things properly for this dear girl.

What is it about that simple, hushed place that is as inspiring and mesmerising as the great temple in Iscax with all its glories? The quiet of many years, undisturbed except by the footsteps of initiate and sponsor, speaks volumes for surely all the land will walk here eventually. The simplicity speaks louder than all the gold and silver in the lands. She looked as though she had seen the very gods. We turned to face each other. I called her name three times and asked her three questions as to whether she was ready on her path. Her answers increased in resolute assurance and I could see determination in her eyes. We turned to the altar and knelt. I asked her to offer up her prayers to the gods, which she did with great eloquence, and then followed these with my own. We stood and faced each other once more where I pledged myself to her. Then with shaking hands she took the form and signed it. I looked it over and signed my contract with joy in my heart and then gave it back to her and offered her a last chance to change her mind. This was not necessary, but I feel strongly it should be done. There was no way this strong, brave, compassionate young woman could be anything but a cleric.

She signed and I felt the gods power through me, my body shivering and burning with an ardent desire and joy.

There she stood. As naked as the day she were born, but wreathed in glory and the gods. This robe unseen was more beautiful than anything the textile artists could have imagined. I passed her some simple clothing, which she donned not having realised her predicament, that she would wear until we got to Branishor. Of course all our strength was sapped and gone. It gave her the chance to practice the healing she has desperately longed to be able to give for so long and her inexpert hands managed beautifully. And what a joy to be able to practice the blessing of Cory's light that she has carried the knowledge of, but without the means to carry it out, for so long.

When we finally stepped out into the light I blinked and felt reborn. Something in this dear girl gives me hope and makes me more determined than ever that the atrocities we have seen lately will not go unpunished.

We raced to the wall for demons clustered there - almost as though they were mocking the new cleric. She was off at a run with the overwhelming desire to help. They were quelled and Retep, at lord Avian's request, was kind enough to help her over the wall so that she might take her ring. The tower was open but we were foiled by a soul leech that had somehow squirmed its way up that far. The poor girl had never seen such a creature and was taken aback. I explained they lived in the deep dark places and that she should not be afraid. But she was not afraid. She had the look of one who walks protected. Retep was then kind enough to gift some of the mysterious transporting scrolls and I was able to meet the new cleric in Branishor. I left her looking about with the wonder of her new eyes and fetched a gift before we went to the temple. We knelt and made our supplications and then I encouraged her towards the altar.

As she slipped on her ring and then the robes I gifted her she had an aura of light about her. She will become someone I can never live up to, but I am glad with all my heart to have been the one to bring her to her new life. I will guide her as long as I can and will revel in her overtaking my skill. I will protect her with all the strength in my body and love her with all of my heart.

Dear Desarae, the land's newest cleric, a mighty blow to the Dark One.

Even as it was done it was as though the echoes of the ceremony had blown across the Dead Zone for evil having followed us to the wall, sea dwellers chose that moment to invade Branishor. She went straight to battle. She fought bravely but fell almost immediately to my horror: but the gods took their newest cleric and reformed her safely. Once I knew it was safe I went back to the temple and fell to my knees feeling utterly exhausted by the day's events. I wonder how she has spent her marcs since then. I remember that first day so clearly. A wonderful orgy of healing and a smile I could not wipe off my face even if I had wanted to. My High Lord Dagobert grinning and encouraging me on. My Lord JKD offering his advice and full of smiles. Dearest Purazon….there even then.

Thank you Cory.

I was not alone in being absent and am far from alone in the waves of guilt. All feel the same. I think. who could not be there to try and stop such a vile and filthy atrocity.

But I have managed to exchange messages with Knight Azure and, as ever, she has quieted my thoughts. What we can, when we can. She is right of course, what else is there to be done?

And dearest Purazon has fired me up - that poor, dear, gentle healer must be healed themselves.

By Cory's grace and whatever it takes it will be done.

Dear gods I should never have gone. My time with Desarae had been so enjoyable and quieting to my soul I thought I would give her and myself some space. I gave her another research task and then with a light pack of basic provisions I took myself into the wilderness and communed with nothing but the gods and my own thoughts. How selfish now that seems!

I returned to see faces etched with fear and worry; huddles of folk in corners all whispering theories and tales of absolute destruction and mayhem and then the very, very worst.... that dear Nyral - that selfless, kind, generous healer has been maimed. Tortured and maimed - the very hands they use for their precious craft cut off. The vile Demon Lord has stained the very land and hearts of those in it black by that blood.

I felt the new found colour drain out of my face and was phyically sick.

How could I have gone on an errand of self and not have been here to help? I have heard such tales of bravery - such incredible feats; yet I was not even on hand to so much as heal the wounded.

I must make it up to the gods and the Knights and all those I have let down. I have no idea how, but I will.

And what will that dearest of ones think? Their last message so beautiful in its brevity - forgive me all of you.