((This background was discussed with a DM))

It has been 16 years since we were told He fell. A horrific lie.

I dug graves. I tended tombs. I took wills. I performed the rights, I performed the ceremonies. I made certain all knew of the power and glory of Him and ensured he was properly honored. He is much misunderstood. He is much maligned. He is not good, He is not evil, He simply is, to deny Him would be to yell at a thunderstorm as it crushes your home or to cry out at the sea as your ship sinks. A pointless, utterly futile activity.

He is more pure, he is above such concepts as good and evil. He simply is and one day, all stand before Him. He gave my life purpose and meaning where there was none, I was pleased and honored to serve Him. I aspired to nothing more in life then to serve Him and fulfill His will.

Then we were told, He was not.

We were told a new god known as Cyruk had stolen the Throne of Bone and now this new god ruled the land of the dead.

I tore my clothes to shreds, I sat in ash and refused to take food or water in the crypt for a week and hoped to die, to join Him in death. The rest of the temple pitied me and chastised me for showing grief. Eventually I rose from my mourning and saw to my duties. The work still waited for me. Digging graves, tending tombs, seeing to wills, performing the rights and the ceremonies. Then we were told once again the Throne of Bone had been seized now by a god named Kelemvor.

Once again, my temple changed the sign out front and acted accordingly. I felt no grief at this, I took no joy in serving Cyruk. The only thing which kept me from taking my own life was my devotion to my duties but I would not spread fear of this Cyruk, nor would I utter a single word of respect for him from my lips. I took my vows to serve Him and to see to The Work, He had passed, but the work remained, I owed it to Him, to fulfill my obligation. I took no joy in my work under Cyruk, I wished him only death, I was very pleased to learn the temple no longer served him, I was not alone in this. The church of Cyruk since declared war on the church of Kelemvor.

Several years after, our temple was attacked by followers of Cyruk. The temple was burned, the high priest was slain, many of us were slain, I was sold into slavery and eventually shipped into the underdark and sold to drow. I spent some time in their captivity. I was used to haul offal carts. There is a sense of irony in life, I was also used to dispose of the corpses of other slaves and beasts, I did my best to perform the Rights but I was beaten when this was discovered.

As I languished under the lash of slavery, I mourned again and I cried out to Him, my fallen lord, my fallen god, my beloved master, Myrkul! I thought him dead, but I did not care, my slavery was a lash I could not bear and only He had ever cared for me and protected me. Only He had ever protected me! Only He had ever cared for me! Only He ever loved me and I only ever Him. I cried out and I prayed in vain, but still I had dreams, dreams of Him, looking at me with his emotionless face.

I was pushing a cart of corpses outside of the fungus plantation, guarded by a single drow guard, one I had not yet before met. Each one I had met, I had asked permission to perform the rights and make a marker stone for the corpses, each denied me and beat me for the request. Still it was a new one, so I had made my request. He beat me and I tried to take it with silent dignity. As he beat me, suddenly I saw the face of Him and my mind was filled with rage. I could take it no more!

I cried out! “NONE TOUCHES A SERVANT OF MYRKUL AND LIVES!!”

I dove on the Drow and I cried out to Myrkul! I tried to summon negative energy, knowing it would be in vain, but not caring! And I was able to! My hands were bathed in the power of the crypt and I drove my thumbs through the eye of the drow. Blinded he cried out in pain and dropped his sword, I took it and dove it deep into his chest. He struggled briefly and then, died. I quickly put the corpse of the drow onto the cart and carried the cart as far away as I was able.

You cannot dig in much of the underdark, not with any ease, it is not dirt, but rock. None the less, I made a kern, a grave of a pit with bodies placed in and rocks placed above it, to keep away scavengers. I buried the corpses as best as I could and used the sword to a marker of stone, carving the names of the slaves I knew onto it. I left the symbol of Him on the spot. I dismembered the drow and laid down on the grave, expecting death. I passed out from fatigue.

I saw Him. Not as an emotionless face, but all of Him. He sat on the Throne of Bone and I bowed on the floor at his feet. And then he spoke to me.

“That which is Dead, can never Die. I am not yet ready to take you. You have remained faithful. You are to live. Go. Spread the word. Perform the rituals. Perform the rights. Rebuild My Priesthood. You are given a Reprieve. I live.”

The truth is so obvious to me now! How could the others not conceive it? Cyruk became a god when he stole the power of Bane and Bhaal. He wished to gain the power of all of the Dread Three and subvert the Lord of Bone as well. The church of Bane is vast and well armed, it is an army. The church of the Lord of Bone is not an army, we are not numerous. Cyruk used the army of Bane to attempt to destroy the priesthood and spread a horrific lie.

As if tricking or killing the priests of the Lord of Bone could remove him from the throne! He then “created” this god known as Kelemvor, to attempt to further subvert The Lord of Bone. Most of the Church has been deceived and tricked, tricked to serve nothing more than a mask of the evil god Cyruk! How easily these fools are lead astray! How easily my comrades spurned their loyalty!

Every priest in the world of the Lord of Bone could be deceived. Every servant of the Lord of Bone in the world could be dead. It would be irrelevant. He would still sit on the Throne of Bone and decide the fates of all men.

Still, I cannot spurn my comrades too harshly, I lost heart as well and thought him dead, but in my heart, I never lost my loyalty to him. When the faithful learn of this, they will surely return. This has been nothing more then a test by the Lord of Bone to test his faithful, I am saddened to say, most of us failed. I wandered the underdark for a time and found a city of men. I have begun to perform the rights and perform the rituals. I have applied to work for the cities morgue.

The Work remains to be done and the word must be spread.

I have only been in this city a short time but everything is going better then I could of hoped.

I rapidly met one of Jergals scribes, he quickly and eagerly accepted the fact that the Lord of Bone still lived, as if he could die, he is my constant companion and aids my efforts. His devotion to his duty is commendable and admirable, a good example of the Scriveners flock and a reason why I have been fond of them.

Another of the Faithful is also in this place, we are agreeable on all major issues. It took a small bit of convincing, but we ultimately agree that we cannot animate servitors, the people of this place are so fundamentally opposed to the idea of servitors that animating a single one would make us demons in their eyes and counteract all other work. I have never had much taste for animation in any event, different department so to speak, so this is hardly any loss to me.

We are in agreement with my plan. The status of funerary arrangements and all manners dealing with death in the city are BEYOND deplorable, utterly lacking in every way. We have experience in such matters. We will gain the hearts of the masses, by every way rectifying, fixing and maintaining the deplorable state of funerals in the city. I have already begun to create and maintain a public list of deaths and missing persons, most are quite happy to provide information. The lower half of this city has a mass grave of hundreds of people! Rectifying this obscene and perverse neglect will also help win the hearts of these men to the Him.

I have contacted both the city council and the city morgue, it seems likely I will soon become one of the cities morticians, possibly also the operator of the newly formed department of missing persons.

Likewise, I have been approaching gatherings of adventurers and reminding them that Death is ever present in this place and that by tithing to "The Reaper, The Lord of Death" I would pray to him that he would not claim them on their journey. I have asked for a minimum of 15 gold for such a blessing, most are pleased to pay this, just before writing this entry, a band of adventurers tithed 45 gold to The Bone Lord's honor.

This place is a deathtrap, death literally lurks at every corner but few worship The Bone Lord or even the false mask of Cyruk-Kelemvor. Most are so ignorant of Cyruk-Kelemvor as to not notice who I speak of, yet still they bow their head to Death and The Reaper. Give it two weeks, perhaps a month, I will openly refer to him as the Lord of Bone and I will do so, without any problems. The valuable work we provide will show these people the true value of His servants and reason to be respectful of Him. This city is ripe for conversion, in mass, I expect Him to rapidly become one of the prominent gods of the city. Chauntea is the god of farmlands, Gond if the god of a city of smithies, these people live in the most dangerous environ in the world, who is better suited for their prayers, then Him? Death stalks at every corner in this place, who would not wish to appease Him and hope to gain His favor? Clearly the Divine Hand has brought me to this place, to see to a mass conversion, it will be an easy and peaceful thing, these people have every reason to seek the Bone Lord’s favor. This city could well become a new stronghold of the faithful, this city and it’s people will only prosper for turning to Him.

My efforts continue to reap reward.

There is no mass worship, but people are more respectful and I recieve offerinngs to Him, daily. I am allied with the local clergy of Jergal who favor Him to the mask of Cyruk-Kelemvor. Some of them think Cyruk-Kelemvor does not exist, but there truly is a god named Kelemvor who rules the Bone Throne. It makes no difference to them however, as they would prefer Myrkul to sit it. On a daily practical basis, this makes no difference to any of us at all, we agree He is the legitimate ruler of the land of the dead.

I have been hired at the mausoleum. I've not gotten the key, so I have not been able to fully perform all the duties of the place, but I have begun with some of the neccesary upkeep of the place.

The council seems receptive and to like my efforts, thus far.

I intend to take control of the process of wills in the city and see that more of the city file wills. This will not be difficult. The process of filing wills in the city is mostly abandoned, a job given to a single busy clerk who neglects the task due to the burden of his work. I sent the man a letter informing him that under his authority, I would be collecting wills. By the time he notices or possibly objects, I will have sent him many wills he will be happy for the help.

We bless the city gates daily asking that He spare those within and slay all those who march against them, turnout has not been good, but it will improve.

The only voice to speak out against our efforts is one of the city guard. I explained to him that we are not "raising an army of undead to march o'oer the land" but are in fact, morticians who are fixing the horrific state and neglect which is in the city in regard to all matters relating to death. He seems to accept the reality of this.

In all ways, our work progresses well. We shall establish Him as the legitimate god of death in the city, by efficiently and effectivley overseeing the state of all things relating to death within the city.