Flamerule 16, Year 152

Things have been progressing well. In joining Azzam's standing police force, I believe that I can cause a critically important shift in this settlement's priorities. Accounts of practitioners of necromancy among the Chosen are common knowledge, and in keeping with my belief that undeath is the greatest menace that beasts and men face at this juncture, it is of the utmost importance that further steps are taken to protect the masses.

My underlying assumption is that a powerful government is necessary in ensuring that necromancy does not become more widespread than it already is. This is a self evident truth - a horrifying array of human weaknesses and lesser sins are averted through a capable, competent police force and power leaders (so long as they are sufficiently virtuous); why should our struggle against the blackest art be different? Men who cry out for 'freedom' and minimal government are misinformed, opportunists, or both. Just as there is no greater sin than animating anything that once had life, it is also true that there are few faster methods of accumulating power than through the dark arts. The weak, the cowardly, and the depraved are drawn to it to the degree that I am forced to question whether sufficiently wicked men can truly resist such temptation. How can individual men (though groomed with the self sufficiency of 'freedom') stand against the tide of human weakness? It is an utter impossibility.

My assumption is sufficiently true; I can act freely with it in mind and my actions are justified. However, I am, on occasion, uncertain whether Kelemvor is truly a deity worthy of the praise I give him. I have such severe doubts about my faith that, were it not for my already potent sense of discipline, I would have already faltered.

The very existence of the Wall troubles me greatly. I consider an eternity of being crammed into a wall as protection for Kelemvor's realm nothing short of torture. What is far worse is the idea that men are conscious during their eternal torment there. Every agonizing second is spent in regret and contemplation of what could have been if only the unfortunate man had prayed a bit harder or made a few more offerings. I would not condemn my worst enemy to such rigorous punishment.

Should a man born into slavery in Traensyr die without learning of the gods his soul will be lost. The same is true for any outcast who is ostracized from society. What is more grave, and indeed what pains me the most, is that children who die before they learn of the gods will be condemned to that horrible fate as well.

I read a bit of the works of the great thinkers of my faith during my time on the surface: Karl Largurd of Waterdeep, as well as Mikhail and Yvonne Caliphrais and Jon Reival. All were deep thinkers and entirely decent individuals who did their best grappled with unsettling aspect of my faith. Is it truly just that men should suffer such a fate? I see no reason why their punishment for mortal shortcomings must be eternal. No one condemned to this torture may escape, save for accepting even worse punishment at the hands of the infernal denizens of the Lower Planes.

These doubts trouble me greatly, to the point that I find myself occasionally questioning whether I can truly make further sacrifices to Kelemvor. I will have to consult my brothers and sisters of faith extensively.