The Dead of Lower

A string of deaths has struck Sanctuary, a series of killings that has left Lower in a state of shock and fear.

It is difficult to step past the Fortress in Lower and not see the several bodies barbarously placed before the door. Yards from the Tavern and a dozen paces from the Bazaar. The stench of rotten flesh carrying itself to the stairs to the In-Between. The flies feast when our Lord of the Damned should pass fair judgment.

The dead are almost too numerous, and most unknown in their identity to speak of. Yet perhaps the most important and significant are the first four whom were staked for the viewing of all men and women, under the Gods, to see and look upon the silent threat of early death.

The Temple of Hoar has long been a beacon of justice in Lower. It has faced several set backs and many killings of it’s clergy. From men it had sought to bring to justice and been unable, or simply due to the dangers of the Underdark. Yet the Temple has stood so it’s people, long ignored by those of Upper may bring their qualms to bear upon the Doombringer. Long has the Temple dealt with the wrong-doings of criminals, beast and even citizens alike. Where Upper has only offered tyranny and shackles in the eyes of Lower, Hoar has given them blind justice without the bindings of complicated laws and greedy politicians. The Temple still stood until but a few weeks ago, it’s clergy strong and faithful.

Now a Lower-man would be hard pressed to find a Doombringer to speak his confessions to. A man would be hard-pressed to find the faithful of Hoar to confide in. A man would be hard pressed to even step foot in the Temple of Hoar without being over-come by the rampant undead that now roam it unchecked. The clergy are dead. Their bodies were staked outside the Fortress in Lower.

I will not say these Doombringers and agents of retribution were murdered. All men choose their fates in one way or another under the eyes of the Gods. These men fought for a belief and purpose they have fought for all their lives. Their ideals have not changed, no new priest commanded them to this fate. They chose to speak against the Montezzi. The Hoarans witnessed what was in their eyes tyranny and injustice and they answered it with a stern warning. A stern warning that was sedition to the Keeper of Lower, the ink for this message their blood, the quill the sharpened blades of whomever would swear fealty to Montezzi with the hopes of gaining power and prestige.

Acolyte Derber was a man of the Doombringer. He spoke these words, “The Temple of Hoar will never submit to your unprincipled band of thugs and murderers, the bringers of overwhelming bloodshed in these recent days. You will feel of His justice, manifested in the combined blood and pain and death which you and your men have wrought unjustly. Such has the Doombringer declared, and so it shall be.”

Acolyte Derber was a man who long served the people of Lower. He judged and dealt justice to the murderers and criminals of Lower. He felt the Montezzi’s were a new sort of thug and he issued his command, a command of His God. For this he died. His courtroom was his shrine. His execution a battlefield. With him fell his defenders. His body found a stake outside the Fortress of Lower.

A man who only had nothing to offer but his service to the Doombringer. A nameless man whom no one could identify after he was staked. A stranger whom no one truly knew, his helm was his alias, his faith was his armor. This man felt the same judgement that Acolyte Derber felt. This man felt the same chill of the blade through his flesh as he was slain on the battlefield of his own shrine. His body was taken from it’s only resting place under his god and pitched upon the hard zurhkwood of a stake.

The citizens are what many defend in this town. They are defended by the brave men and women who pick up sharpened steel and battle the beasts whom would take our lives before the Lord of the Dead meant to judge us. They are guarded by the stalwart men and women whom would take countless spears and arrows, but have no fear of death. Yet it was one of these citizens whom was the last heroes of Lower. It was but yet an elderly woman. So humble was she that she would sacrifice her own life as it was so close to be judged by Kelemvor and the gods. So courageous was she that the woman dared to strike the Montezzi men for their actions under the gods. To slaughter men of the faith of the Doombringer, the only law under Sanctuary, was unheard of. To attack men whom fearlessly killed the only justice in Lower was even more frightening. Yet this woman pursued it. She made her careless attack and a battle ensued. The woman was no match for the Montezzi men and she was slain in moments. Her body was staked outside the fortress aside her brothers of Hoar.

Yet it was a man of Upper who would strike a blow afterwards. A paladin of Tyr. A man called Martel Rorst. A man most would remember as a crusader with the courage few could spare in the open, a courage that could only be rivaled by the dead. It was this man who viewed the staked bodies of the only law in Lower and issued his challenge. It was this Knight of goodness whom encountered the retainers of Montezzi and slew them one after the other. It was this man whom had a duel with Prince Rinaldo Montezzi and was slain after a fierce battle. It was this man whom’s body, Under Tyr, was staked outside the fortress. His flesh turning a shade of green as the flies feasted alongside Acolyte Derber, the Justice of Hoar, and the Elderly Woman. It was this man who served as a martyr for all of Sanctuary, together.

I am not a man to pass judgment. I am simply a man to share the story of the dead. Yet I must admit the obvious. All these men spoke their beliefs, and they represented many of Sanctuary. All of these men dared to act on the behalves of those who would tend to their daily lives and act as if nothing as amiss. These men dared to perform for these citizens and they did so knowing the consequences. They did this feat and knew they would have no support. These men and women acted and battled what they saw as tyranny without regret. For this they are to be commended.

It is only regrettable that these men and women acted against their greatest common foe without coordination among each other.

In the name of Kelemvor, Judge of the Damned, Lord of the Dead, let them be judged fairly.

-Theon Arnen, Speaker For the Dead, Servant of Kelemvor