April 6, 1492

We ventured down the staircase beneath the altar and came upon the petrified body of a young woman with a gleaming sword. I remembered something from my studies with the Hellriders about a woman who killed a red dragon in the time before The Companion. She was said to have been an incarnation of Torm himself. Upon closer inspection, Umber, Enya, and I decided it would be safe for me to claim the sword. It emanates a warm, kind energy. No sooner had I sheathed it in my quiver than we heard some enemies approaching. We implored our entourage; Hariska, her boys, and Kunin's parents; to hunker down near the altar while we faced down the threats and cleared the way forward.
 
Umber and I have become quite the duo when the going gets rough. If by some miracle, we survive this journey, I wonder if he would illustrate these entries. Perhaps we could submit the project at Candlekeep or to the Hellrider archives, or both.
 
Down a hall nearby, I heard the voice of an older woman, some strange vocalizations, and the wailing of people under duress. Enya was able to make out the peculiar sounds and informed us that someone was making a contract. We knew we needed to act quickly. If it was the sort of contract Olive had been forced to make, we couldn't allow another innocent person to fall victim to such twisted dealings. We ran toward the voices and discovered a spacious hall with around 100 survivors cowering inside, surrounded by 8 giant crabs. I briefly wrangled one of the bastards and attempted to direct it to damage its compatriots, but was thrown off. In a few minutes, though, we put them all down, and killed a spine devil for a bonus.
 
We learned that the survivors are being led and looked after by the old woman, Faeria. From the look of things, it had been anything but easy going. The people were dirty, starved, and terrified. Faeria herself looked the worst. Umber gave her a shot of magick and brought her around. I decided to make myself useful and began cracking into giant crab legs and shells to get at the meat. It was easy work with my talons and beak. I divided up the meat into parcels and doled it out to the people to cook over the small fires they had burning. We directed those we bade to hide by the altar upstairs to come down and take shelter with the others.
 
Faeria told us that Ravengard had been there with the survivors until only a few hours before. He had taken a small party to find the Helm of Torm in the hope that it would help defeat the devils. Umber explained the betrayal of Duke Vanthamper and Thavius Kreeg and Faeria revealed the "Creed Resolute:" a book containing names written in Kreeg's untidy scrawl in which is documented an oath, which all Elurgard citizens must swear upon entry to the city, that holds them to protect it and binds them to it. Kreeg oversaw this document and Faeria confirmed that the souls named in this creed are promised to Zariel.
 
Faeria said that Ravengard had made his way toward the cemetary outside the cathedral. We resolved to follow and see if, at long last, we might actually find this man.
 
When we came to the cemetary gates, a gruesome scene greeted us. The 10 foot high iron fence surrounded a gloomy valley of cockeyed headstones. The gate was torn from its hinges. Severed humanoid body parts twitched and wriggled on the ground or writhed atop fence posts where they were impaled. The crumbled remains of various chapels and other rubble crowded the grounds. A radiant purple light drew us farther in where we found a chapel still standing. 3 undead minotaurs brawled around it. Enya pulled them away by emanating a far off sound to distract them and most of us were able to sneak onto the landing at the front. Stony pillars glowered down at us, each carved with the visage of some figure I should probably have known, but couldn't recall.
 
Our distraction didn't hold and a minotaur drove toward Enya. Kunin intervened as ghostly figures emerged suddenly from the pillars, swooping to his aid! The minotaurs soon turned on each other, no doubt more of Enya's strange magick, as she and Kunin shouted the names of heroes and activated still more pillar specters, directing them toward a shadowy creature that had spawned in the chaos. Whatever that thing was, when it struck me, I felt as though my whole being would wither away like a parched flower bed in a summer drought.
 
Kunin leapt onto the back of a minotaur and daggered its skull in a frenzy as I gathered my blade and scooped up O'Reilly on my way to strike at another. Enya shouted out still more curses, causing one minotaur to freeze in place and another to become quite bewildered. We took this opportunity to scout the chapel through its windows. Inside, we saw the stained glass depiction of Torm presenting a helm to Lanish Fogel, one of history's heroes. That was the helm Ravengard was after. The main area of the interior was littered with rubble and still more minotaurs.
 
A small, residential-looking outbuilding stood nearby. We investigated this as well and found a desk with a large tome laid on top. In its pages was the haphazard scrawl of Gideon Lightward, a crazed fanatic of Archdevil Zariel. Feet away, a swirling pit of purple vapor spawned skeletons and zombie creatures that lurched about the grounds. Feeling relatively secure inside this structure, we paused for a short rest before carrying on.
 
Returning to the chapel, we tried to check inside the windows, which were somewhat high off the ground. Kunin and I both tried and failed to peer inside, perhaps letting our pride get the better of us, before Umber, shaking his head, came and simply stood on tiptoe to scout it out. We entered through a back door and found a large, round chamber enclosed by stone walls punctuated by a few draped openings. Sneaky glimpses through the curtains revealed an area where priests might prepare for services and a stairway guarded by insectoid creatures. A tall, dark-complected man with long dread-locked hair was there as well. He looked like he might be undead.
 
With Kunin hidden beneath her dress, Enya approached this man as Umber and I took positions outside the curtains, ready to fight if necessary. And necessary it was, as a giant scorpion, several dredges, and a few minotaurs chose this moment to charge. Needless to to say, we thoroughly blew our cover in that moment. Fortunately, the man, Gideon, aided us and we were able to dispatch the creatures in minutes. Gideon informed me that the effects of the necrotic damage I had taken on the steps of the chapel could be reversed with a good rest and wasn't too severe. Kunin negotiated an alliance for the moment and got the help of one of Gideon's guards, a Mezoloth, to join us as we explored downstairs. I tried to make conversation with the Mezoloth, being curious about his kind, but I must have misspoken quite spectacularly. Whatever I said, he took great offense to it. I apologized and elected to keep my mouth shut from then on.
 
We followed human tracks to a large room with 5 statues, only 1 of which was in tact. It was Lannish Fogle, the recipient of Torm's Helm. I noticed something in the corner of my vision. It was a small demon creature, like the one Sylvira had in Candlekeep - a Kwazit, I think it's called. It was following us. I made note of it to the others, but there wasn't much to do about it, since I was the only one who could see it.
 
The opposite hall contained funerary ornamentation and holy symbols which gave a sense of foreboding, as if they'd been corrupted somehow. The Mezoloth warned against touching any of them. The next room contained more funeral items and humanoid bones. We continued down another flight of stairs where we found funeral mosaics made of colored bone chips. They read: "Contemplate life. Death comes soon enough." This seemed to be an area where priests might decompress after dealing with the dead. I chose to meditate here, briefly, and see if I might learn something. Although the brief rest was nice, the only thing that was revealed to me upon waking was the Kwazit, mere inches from my face. I seized it, but it quickly escaped my grasp, cussing me out as it flew. The Mezoloth chased after it with Kunin and I, to no avail.
 
In another room, there was a shallow meditation pool with a small landing marked out by an iron railing. On the wall, frescoes showed people receiving blessings. The art was interrupted by a pulsing portal. The pool itself was littered with human bodies. In the center of the pool, an armored man crouched bearing the Helm of Torm upon his head as he battled some kind of demonic possession. It was Ravengard.
 
Umber explained that Baphomet was at work here as Enya called out that we needed to get Ravengard to Faeria for help. When Umber attempted to pull Ravengard from the pool, however, a horrifying screeching mouth surfaced from the water. The pitch was skull-splitting. The sound alone was enough to drive me momentarily insane. I don't remember much in the moments that followed. I know that it was excruciatingly painful, like nothing I've ever felt before. I couldn't move or think except to do everything in my power to tear the screams out of my own head. I don't know how the others fared so much better, but I'm glad they did. Somehow, they stopped the screeching and dispatched the howling monstrosity together. As we fled with Ravengard over Umber's shoulder, I choked down a healing potion and followed everyone out. The pool rumbled behind us.
 
On the surface, we met Reya, who was looking worse for wear. Faeria directed us upstairs where she would perform a ritual to save Ravengard. To do this, she needed something that would anchor him to Torm. I unsheathed my new sword and got into position. Faeria instructed us all to pray to who or whatever we could to help strengthen the work she was doing. Umber began muttering to Bahamut as Kunin and Enya each found someone to whom they could appeal. For myself, I stuttered as I tried to recall the words to the prayers I had learned in my youth. I have not had reason or motivation to pray in quite some time. Even so, Syranita seemed sympathetic to my cause on this day as I felt all our prayerful contributions swelling together. The Helm on Ravengard's head and the sword in my hands glowed as he writhed on the ground at our feet. I felt energy channeling from the Helm to the sword and on to myself. As the Helm released him, a pair of willow wisps shot out and attacked Faeria and I. The disruption caused a surge of energy which very nearly killed me, but the sword saved me. We all regained focus and the resurgence was enough to clear the Helm of evil and save Ravengard.
 
In the aftermath, Lulu recalled that Zariel is no longer what she used to be. She is now some sort of demon lord. Then, Ravengard said he'd had a vision while under the influence of the Helm. In it, he had tried to contact Torm to gain insight on how Elturel might be saved. The demon lord, Baphomet, infiltrated the connection through the portal by the meditation pool. Ravengard saw a bloody woman wearing armor in the colors of Elturel with a longsword. Beside her was Lulu, who conjured up some sort of fortress in which the woman likely fell to the demons. Perhaps that woman is the one laying at the base of the stairs beneath the altar, whose sword I now possess. Faeria believes that returning Lulu to the environment where this happened might restore her memory.
 
Following the strain of the horror in the basement and the ritual after that, to say I was exhausted was an understatement. I retired to another room, which had some benches. I picked one and laid down to rest a while. What I planned to be a power nap turned into a deep slumber. To my eternal shame, I did not wake when a minotaur broke in a few rooms away. Nor did I stir while the others fought against it. When I finally came to, the minotaur was dead. And so was Reya.
 
I understand that Enya and Reya have known each other for some time. Naturally, Enya was beside herself. She wanted a proper burial for her friend, but down here, how could we manage it? I had to do something. I can never make up for my absence in that fight, but I could at least do something useful. I told Enya about the Aarakocran tradition of open-air funerals, and how the bodies are temporarily preserved with an herbal concoction so that the community can keep vigil for a few days before it deteriorates. From there, we entrust the spirit of the deceased to the wind so they may fly home to Syranita. I asked if she would allow Faeria and I to replicate the practice with Reya's body so that she could mourn her friend and know that her body and spirit would find their way wherever they needed to go - even in this awful place. She consented.
 
Faeria and I set about the embalming process, cleaning Reya up as much as we could as we worked our way down the body. I sent Umber, Kunin, and Enya out to find candles, cloths, flowers, and anything else Enya wanted to make a nice ceremony and altar. I hoped that keeping busy would help Enya as she processed this loss. When they returned, Faeria and I had finished our work. We laid Reya on a beautifully decorated altar on a balcony, where she could be under the open sky. I was impressed by what the others were able to find in this place. We lit candles and watched their shadows waver over the lacy golden altar cloth on which Reya was placed. We laid an odd assortment of half-wilted flowers, pilfered from dusty vases around the chapel, over her chest. Scents of roses, lilies, carnations, and bluebells wafted ever so faintly - overlaid by the dense earthy balm of pine resin and thyme. We all kept vigil late into the night, until only Enya remained.