Add a Sin, For Whom?

Like ice that binds fire—

A cold, searing ire

Where complexities of

Contradiction melt,

Smolder, and rise,

Then give way to

A tortuous divide.

 
 
What gutter trash. If I have not been expelled by my absence already, I should be forever humiliated and exiled for my complete abandonment of form and structure. Lazy nonsense though it may be, I feel compelled to see it written; I do not believe there was a rhyme for the reason or, in this case, for the petrified dung heap masquerading as the inked poetry above.
 
I digress. Recent events have been distressing and alarming, to put it mildly. One day we woke up to a sudden growth of purple mushrooms, expanded out as far as my eyes could see. I had read of these fungi before; their spores are mildly toxic and, worst of all, they emit a piercing scream to all who dare interfere with their uncontrolled dispersion. We had no choice but to interfere. The tales I had read of adventurers succumbing to their distressing wails seemed to have some hold, as there was a portion of the caravan obviously quite perturbed by the constant shrieking. Luckily, I came out unaffected, though I do not think I will be eating mushrooms in the immediate future. In fact, I would be fine if I never ate another mushroom for the rest of my time here, and if there are mushrooms offered in a place beyond I will refuse them there as well.
 
Days later, we came upon a ruined area built around a ford, aptly named Trollclaw Ford. However, we were not the only inhabitants there. There were, seemingly, two traveling sisters who had also found shelter among the ruins. I use the word, seemingly, in particular, because these two sisters were, in fact, two doppelgangers—a disturbing reality which had eluded us until we found them in the woods, harassing one of our traveling companions. Whether they intended to cause further harm to him, I do not know, but he was out cold by the time we had subdued the two creatures, which was itself no easy task.
 
We do not, typically, simply subdue creatures which try to actively threaten our lives, but we did so this time at the sudden request of Godfrey. He aimed to question both creatures, and I attempted to assist in exacting the truth with magic and the threat of Oghma, both of which apparently affected them with all the force of a bundle of decaying leaves. After failing to glean anything useful from them, one of the creatures did something that caught many of us off guard. It turned into the image of those close to us.
 
So I saw Addison, lying feebly on the ground, attempting to provoke my sympathy. I saw him just how I remembered him, 10 years ago, before he abandoned me. The instant I saw him, I felt a sudden, uncontrollable jolt of poignancy and, for a second, I almost felt as if I had done something wrong—but, then I saw past it all. There was no excuse for any of this. I swear to Leira, Oghma, and all the gods whose attention I can muster—I had never wanted to strike a creature so hard, and with such fury, in all my life, than when I was staring in the eyes of my brother.
 
I thought it wise to end the creatures where they lay, but Dillion and Deigon thought an execution unbefitting, and others in our party were conflicted. So we argued for a time, and I gave way once they demanded that I execute them myself; I almost did. I do not know if it was right; I still have my doubts, but I was seconds away from ending their cruelty then and there. I think some creatures are simply prone to their nature. These doppelgangers are creatures of deception and, once we let them go, they will just become better at what they do. We have taught them a valuable lesson in the ease with which absolution is gained. Damn it all, I wish I had the strength to end their malignity on the spot. Our allowance has either given these creatures a prolonged death or it has created another potential Gerki. I am so sorry, friend. Next time I will try and find more strength.