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The Die is Cast
The light of Kelemvor has opened my mind to what the future holds for me. I have faced undead monstrosities before, but standing alone against an undead dragon with the bodies of my friends scattered around me, I now know my path. I must be an instrument in the hands of Kelemvor to bring about the second death of those who would try to escape fate. I will still tend to the living and bring them what comfort I can, but I will also now follow the path of the Doomguide. Kelemvor bless me.

It is odd that I have General Z to thank for this epiphany. Had he not flown his undead steed into the battle of Overlook, I might not have seen my destiny as clearly. As we took on a seemingly simple band of dragonborn and a firebelcher that were running rampant in the city, Z and his undead dragon descended upon us.

At the risk of making light of a serious situation, almost from the start I was like a goalie, trying to block the dragon from kicking my companions through the goalposts of life. I feel that Kelemvor was, perhaps, not as please with me for not facing the skeletal dragon sooner. By the time we dispatched the dragonborn and turned our attention to the more serious threats, my prayers to Kelemvor did not strike as true as they might have. It is a lesson I have learned well...nearly at the expense of my life and the lives of my companions.

In the end, with Z dead, Garwin dead, Mirari and Breezy dying, myself barely able to stand and the undead abomination hardly holding together. It was time to see if Kelemvor was done with me or yet had more for me to do. It was like unto the mythical Charge of the Radiant Brigade. Yet success was ours!

The die is cast. My fate is sealed. I will be a Doomguide.
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War: What's it Good For?
It has been awhile since I have recorded my thoughts. Kelemvor has kept me too busy to write. Fortunately, I have found a precious few moments to myself amid all the action.

War has come to Overlook.

Ogres, trolls, and worse have descended upon Overlook in an army of death and destruction. It looked like they were settling in for a lengthy siege, so we were able to get a few moments sleeps. However, it was not to last. We were soon called to action. One corner of the city was in flames as a large, flying creature came in over the walls. We were called upon to dispatch the creature and prevent as much damage as possible.

The creature turned out to be a type of beholder - an eye tyrant with an affinity for fire. Luckily, the neighborhood had been cleared out of civilians before we confronted the monster amid the burning buildings. We were able to lure the beholder into a small courtyard where we surrounded it - which sounds better than it actually was. With its many eyes, it was able to keep track of everyone without much difficulty. However, with some coordinated blows, we were able to fall the fell creature.

Afterwards, we were able to prove our worth as firefighters of sorts as we rescued an important dwarven lady from the burning rubble of her home. Breezy was able to climb into a window of the second floor while I directed Mirari in her attempts to lift the rubble without bringing the rest of the building down on us.

Unable to rest for long, we were again sent to the city walls where a handful of trolls had battered there way through. Trolls...why is it always trolls? Fortunately, with Garwin's flaming magic, we have been able to keep them manageable.

The team as a whole has been performing admirably and I am proud to be Kelemvor's instrument in this endeavor.
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"From the Frying Pan to the Fire" (or "With Friends Like These...")
My hearing may never be the same again. I'm sure the harpy's screaming is the cause of the constant ringing I now have in my ears and any loud noises are sure to make me flinch involuntarily.

Unfortunately, the death of the harpies was not the end of our troubles. We took a brief rest and pressed deeper into the temple. We came across a gigantic chamber (once again fallen into ruins on the east side), in which were hidden several fey creatures. A couple of them were some of the fastest critters I have ever seen; they would blur by us and hack at us with their swords while we barely had time to react. But they were not the worst. Another pair of fey creatures showered us with thorns that brought us (with the exception of Kael who wisely kept his distance) to the doorstep of Kelemvor's realm.

And then...I'm afraid hope left me as the sound of a shattering door echoed through the chamber. From the north door, now laying in splinters, trolls poured from the darkness. I am not afraid of death, but I was perhaps...surprised...that Kelemvor would chose this venue for my departure. If that is my fate, so be it.

I was concerned for the others, though. The past few hours have been extremely rough and I could tell their connections to this mortal realm were weakening. Mirari seemed the worst off. She had been taking the brunt of the attacks from the fey and unless things changed, she wasn't long for this world.

But change things did. Unexpectedly, the fey creatures who were so keen on making us permanent residents of the Fugue Plane, left off attacking us and charged the incoming trolls. The assumed leader of the trolls, a two-headed monstrosity, bellowed out a challenge which one of my companions (in the confusion of battle, I was unaware who was yelling what) translated for the rest of us. It was something about a book and how they had it and weren't giving it up. That sent the fey creatures into fits.

One of the thorn-throwing ones, speaking directly into our minds (a rather disturbing experience), offered a truce if we would help fight off the trolls. Could we trust them? I'm not sure we had a choice. However, at that point, I wasn't sure how much help we would be. We were in sad shape: Mirari was barely alive. Breezy was still up and kicking but taking a beating again and again. Kael, with his ranged attacks, was still in pretty good shape, but for how much longer? I was perhaps on my last legs myself, but as I steeled myself for the charge of the trolls, I knew Kelemvor had a fiery gift for the trolls and a special surprise for the two-headed one.

Fate is in the balance...which way will it tip?

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Back in the Saddle...
It has been awhile since I have penned an entry in this record. After some time spent tending to the locals and their end-of-life needs, Kelemvor has again returned me to the company of my old companions. I can only assume their time in this world is not yet near the end and that the Lord of the Dead is directing my prayers of healing towards them.

As it turns out, Breezy, Kael, Garwin, Mirari, and I found ourselves in the service of the dwarves of Moradin. A hidden temple lay behind the crypts of the dwarf lords and we needed to gain access to in order to confront the mysterious "General Z." Who this person is, however, we still do not know.

I was impressed at the sight of the crypts - well maintained and orderly, a real tribute to Kelemvor as well as Moradin. At the far end was an enormous carving of Moradin behind which we assumed there was a door that led to the temple proper. Breezy, not having changed much since we last met, audaciously knocked on the carving with the hilt of her dagger...as if she was knocking on a common tavern door! Still, it got the attention of the guardian of the portal - quite an awe-inpiring recreation of Moradin's voice.

The voice ask us for a parable that showed we knew the teachings of Moradin. I must admit we were all a little non-plussed at that. None of us are well versed in the ways of Moradin and his people. However, we tried our best, drawing on our religious and historical knowledge. Unfortunately, it wasn't up to the Dwarf Lord's standards. Liquid metal flowed from the carving and attached to some nearby chandeliers, forming snake-like chains that attacked us without hesitation.

It had been awhile since I was in a life-or-death situation and I'm afraid I was a little over-zealous in keeping my companions far from death's door. I made a silent prayer to Kelemvor to not treat the powers he gave me so lightly in the future.

The chain monsters were defeated handily and we pressed through the opening in the carving made by the absence of the metal that had flowed out. Beyond was the expected door. After a short rest, we opened the door and moved through.

I was shocked at what was found on the other side. Harpies! And little fey thorny creatures! Mirari and Breezy charged in. I, in an apparent lapse of judgment, charged in after them. Perhaps I was looking to relive the days of my youth. I should know better than that at my age. Ah well, Kelemvor gives and Kelemvor takes away...

The screeching of the harpies was almost our undoing. Breezy had slumped to the ground and I thought she had slipped beyond the veil to the realm of Kelemvor, but I was mistaken. As my companions cut down the vile bird women, I found myself struggling with one of the little fey creatures. Even though the others were nearby, I found myself pondering on the possibility that this little thorn in my side may just well be my undoing...
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Obia....
We were celebrating our glorious win. We had saved a poor wretched little village from an overbearing tyrant. We had found the cause of the lost mine of the Dwarves. We were able to warn Overlook about the choatic rift that was threaten the area and possibly the world. We were on top of the world. Then Obia stumbles onto the table, weaving more then a little from the amount of wine she had consumed. And silence fell as she announced the end of her adventuring career. She had done all that she had needed to. She was retiring. Disbelief was etched on the faces of the Grey Angels. What would we do without her?

The silence turned to screams of panic as Obia weaved one weave too many and fell head first onto the slate of the nearby fireplace hearth. She died instantly, her blood staining the robes of her comrades in arms that had rushed to her aid in vain.

Resurrection was not an option. Obia had told the Angels time and again that death was simply a natural step for her. She would only be born again to continue her own personal quest. The party, intent on honoring her wishes, entered the clerics chambers the following day to discover that Obia's body could not tolerate the chaotic forces that had been put on it. There was nothing left to bury. The Angels mood was as Grey as their battle standard.
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