Show me the good. I want to see it.

It started well enough.... a day spent in quiet contemplation of a sponsee gone. I met with Az - we went to the Swashbuckler. We talked and made many open ends hanging complete and both smiled with each other. She spoke of a party..... it would not be my decision. She could not quite see that but it does not change the fact.

We were interrupted - some trouble in Branishor. It did not seem serious. She came back and then it happened. Dark Portals at the Castle - so close - I ran still struggling to put on my gear. Chaos was all around - wounded, yet brave adventurers struggling through hoards of them.... I tried to close my eyes to everything except their pain. I healed them where they were still enough to allow it and then fought my way through the crowds. They had been there - in the throne room..... and the air tasted of evil. It stang in my nose like a poison. Purazon was hurt - I do not even know if he realised he was, or that he was healed. And I could stand no more. That place.....those memories.... I saw all manner of things rising out of the throne - His throne...no Her throne... creatures.....ghosts....venom and poison.... many legs....pain...... darkness.... I sank to the ground and became aware of voices calling me... I could not see their faces, but I knew they were there. All I could see was him and I fell to his arms - yet there was a flash of light... an impression of loss... and then of a warrior - he took me away from there. We came to be at the halls. Did I walk? Was I carried? No.... I remember my legs and feet aching...hurting....

We came under the gate - "No Evil Shall Enter"....how do we know that? Is it a wish? A fact? A command?

We came to the guest quarters. I ran to shut out the outside world. I sank against the wall and almost heard it speak. I stood before them arms raised and let them gently undo the straps of my armour and remove it. My gauntlets, my helm...... I sank onto a cot with them close. The Crier called again with panic to Dundee..... Zombies crept from their lair... I stood and felt the whole room spiralling outside of my control into a vortex about me... They held me back - did we struggle? I remember words. I sat again....lay down.... they knelt and I felt their hands on my skin as they removed my boots... it burned and was ice at once. My cloak tight about me..... a blanket...not mine... There was a gentle voice - words whispered....... I slept.... I must have for I awoke. And I remember calling out to my Dearest One, but he was not there - with all that had happened how could he be? Did his intelligence help those in Strifegorge?

My brother has..... If I can face him I will have much to say. He will not judge - he never judges. A warrior bear in kitten fluff.... so many long years has he quietly been there. The gods be thanked for him...

And then as I woke - I heard a bell toll. So it seemed. Dull and lifeless. Calling for the dead, calling for the missing, calling for Kimald, calling for the land.

The Rogue is gone. No word or message. No speech nor explanation.

Oh dear brother, old friend........ Shade and Sweetwater.

How my chest aches.