Heelie Faes Radford

I do not know where I am. I… don’t think I am still in Southern Shara. The people here speak a tongue I should not understand, so why do I.

I need to remain composed. I HAVE to be composed.

My name is Heelie Faes. I am a level 70 Priest. I am the healer of the adventuring party “Blame The Healer”.

My party members are Valen, Ignis, Pippin and... Aet

I am alive at the moment. I am alive. I am

I woke on top of stone, surrounded by what I can tell is an arrangement of standing stones. It is cold. Colder than anything I ever felt in Frost Reach.

I made my way to the nearest settlement. A kindly couple saw the state of me and opened their door. It seems the people here might still recognise the gods on my robes.

That is a good start. I need rest. I need to think.

I dreamed. I do not think it will be the last time.

It began at Ice Throne. The cold. The dungeon. Hellen.

Hasmina’s sister. What Dakuryon… had done to her. We went in knowing what had to be done.

We had planned this raid for weeks. Every position. Every moment. The plan was sound.

Everything was going well until Sabranak and Frygaras came through the wall. The two dracoloths belong to the Screaming Snowfield. They had no business inside Dakuryon’s throne. Something drove them inward and we had no time to reorganise our plans.

The party held for as long as we could, but slowly we were being cornered.

Valen went down first. Ignis was next. Pippin tried to raise a wall around us so I could resurrect them, but she was a step too late. I could not cancel my cast. I could only watch as the claws pierced her body. I remembered thinking my time was next as Frygaras raised its claw,

but then

I woke up on the floor. It was still dark. I did not go back to sleep.

Edvar and Hilda let me sit by their fire this morning without asking questions. I am grateful for that mercy.

They are old fishing folk. They know every corner of this town and every person in it.

This is Dougan’s Hole. It sits on the shore of a lake called Redwaters. The region is Icewind Dale. The land is called Faerûn. None of these words mean anything to me yet, but I wrote them down so they will.

The lake is frozen solid. Has been for longer than it should be, they said. The fishers cut holes in the ice now to reach the knucklehead trout beneath. The shorter pier is broken. The longer one still stands but the boats are locked in ice.

They fed me. I ate. It tasted nothing like anything I know, but I ate.

They told me not to mistake the people here for unkind. The cold does things to a place. Makes people short. Makes them hard at the edges. It is not malice. It is what surviving here costs.

I understand that.

I asked them about the symbols on my robes. They did not recognise the gods they reference, but they understood it was the shape of a kind faith. That was enough for them to open the door. I will not forget their kindness.

I did not dream last night. I was too exhausted.

Edvar slipped on the ice outside this morning. Without much of a thought, my hands moved. The divine answered. His wrist mended. What does this mean? Am I still connected to the gods of Arborea?

Edvar stared at my hands for a short moment, before thanking me and heading inside.

Hilda made me tea after. I heard them talking quietly in the other room. I did not recognise the word they used for me, but I do not think it was unkind.

They have a small shelf of books. I asked if I could read them. They said yes.

The history of this place is practical and bleak. These Ten Towns were not always buried like this. The cold came and did not leave. The summers stopped returning. The people here remember warmth. They are not certain they will see it again.

That explains the weight I see in their faces.

Barakas are not mentioned anywhere. Not once.

It happened again. Same wall. Same collapse.

I got up.

Outside it was dark. Truly dark. But the sky was clear and the stars were out in numbers I have never seen. I stood there for a long time.

I looked for something familiar. I found nothing.

Highwatch’s sky was never like this. The Storm Barrier took most of it. What little we could see was broken up by cloud and mountain. I never thought to miss it.

I stayed outside until the light changed. It was cold enough that even I felt it settle deep.

Hilda was already up when I came back in. She handed me a cloth without a word and we cleaned the house together.

I think she understood I needed something to do with my hands. I did not argue.

Edvar suggested I go outside today. Hilda agreed, and recommended I keep my hood up.

The village is small. Smaller than I expected from inside the house. A cluster of buildings around two piers, one of which is visibly broken. The lake beyond is completely white. I could not tell where the ice ended and the sky began.

Hilda was right that I would attract attention. I do not blend in.

The people stared. I did not blame them.

I noticed the faces of the villagers. A good number of them shared the same misshapen ears, the same unusually sharp teeth. A priest learns not to show reaction to such things. I showed none.

Edvar stopped at a door and requested I wait outside while he spoke to whoever was within. I obliged.

After a short while he appeared in the doorway and waved me in.

Edvar’s warning, it seems, did not quite prepare Osbert for my actual appearance. The way his jaw dropped when he first saw me was rather comical. Despite that initial moment, he was very cordial. We talked for a long time.

He invited me to come back whenever I felt like it. He also mentioned he may be moving to Easthaven shortly, which I understand to be one of the other settlements in this area. I hope he does not leave too soon.

I saw no shrine on our walk. No offering. Nothing I recognised as sacred.

That troubled me more than the staring did. What exactly is powering me? What exactly brought me here?

I visited Osbert again today. His jaw did not drop this time. Progress.

I asked him about the gods of this land. He was quiet for a moment. He told me not to ask this question outside of these walls. Then he spoke carefully, and kept his voice low.

There are many. Far more than I expected. Where Arborea’s pantheon is a family, fractious and violent and deeply connected, the gods of Faerûn feel more like a crowd. Domains overlap. Some have died and returned. Some have walked among mortals within living memory.

I asked how divine magic works here. He said he was not a faithful man himself, and could not speak from experience. But from what he had read, the power flows from the gods to their faithful directly. A priest with no god here should have nothing to draw from.

I did not tell him about Edvar’s wrist.

• Yurian – God of Justice. Tyr? Torm?
• Shakan – God of Strength. Tempus? Kord?
• Velik – Goddess of Hunters. Mielikki?
• Kaia – Goddess of War. Tempus?
• Mystel – Goddess of Fate. Savras?

I do not know which of these gods answered me on Day 3. I do not know if any of them did.

It continued.

The wall. The collapse. Valen. Ignis. Pippin. All of it the same.

Aethel stepped in front of Frygaras, blocking the incoming claw with his axe. Aethel shouted for me to finish the spell, breaking me out of my stupor. I finished the cast. Valen was back up. The party had a chance.

I woke up.

I sat with that for a while before writing this. Each night the nightmare seems to reveal a little more. I do not know what comes next, and frankly… I am not certain I want to.

I went fishing with Edvar today. We cut holes in the ice and waited. We caught a few knucklehead trout. He seemed pleased. I did not mind the cold.

It was a good enough day.

Edvar and Hilda had errands to attend to today. I was alone in the house.

I sat with the dream for a long time. I have been avoiding it during the days, keeping my hands busy, keeping my mind on other things. Today there was nothing to keep my hands busy with.

I thought about Aethel.

Aethel Faes. My bondsmate. My love.

I am sorry... the memory of you will definitely break me. I cannot bear to

I will write again tomorrow.

I went to Osbert today. I needed to be somewhere that was not inside my own head.

I asked him about the weather. How long this winter would last. He did not pull out a book this time. Instead he invited me to sit down for tea.

Auril. The Frostmaiden. A goddess who settled into Icewind Dale and decided that winter would not leave. The cold, the dark, the frozen lake, the people cutting holes in the ice just to eat. All of it is her will.

I sat with that for a moment.

It reminded me of Hellen. What Dakuryon made of her. How she spread cold and suffering because she could no longer help it. But Hellen could not help what she became. Auril chose this. That is a different kind of thing entirely.

Osbert looked at me intently as I sat there. I do not know what he saw on my face. Whatever it was, he said nothing.

I thanked him for the tea and the information and left.

I will have to tell him my story one day.

Osbert mentioned in passing that the people here count in tens. A tenday, not a seven day week.

I went back and looked at this journal. By their count, I have been here exactly one tenday.

Happy tenday to me.

Edvar warned me this morning. Tonight is the new moon and that is when the village makes sacrifices to the Frostmaiden. For Dougan’s Hole, they sacrifice their warmth. No fires between dusk and dawn. Anyone who lights one gets beaten.

I watched it happen house by house as the sun went down. One light, then another, then another. The village went dark.

Osbert came by not long after. He simply knocked and came in. The four of us sat together in the cold.

Edvar produced a bottle from somewhere. We passed it around and talked.

Osbert told me about the other towns. The smaller ones give up food instead. A day’s catch of knucklehead trout strung on racks outside town for whatever comes to claim it. The larger ones give up people. Bryn Shander. Easthaven. Targos. They hold lotteries at noon before the new moon. The unlucky person whose name is drawn is stripped bare and either tied to a post or sent into the tundra to die.

We sat until the dawn’s first light, as Edvar rebuilt the fire and Hilda made something warm to eat.

Hmmmmm, will this make this entry Day 25 or Day 26.

I took a nap during the afternoon. I should not have.

The nightmare continues.

Something impossible happened. Something pulled Sabranak and Frygaras together, merging the two dracoloths into a dragon. It is unholy and goes against all principles of the world. The fire in their breath turned cold.

It roared. The sound moved through the air like a wave, freezing everything it came across.

Valen and Aethel reacted optimally. Protecting the healer. If the healer survives, they can always be resurrected.

I woke up.

It has been a month since I was brought into this world.

Surprisingly, it seems that they consider 30 days a month as well. Osbert left today for Easthaven. I saw him off.

His house is empty. Every book gone with him.

I told him I would find him in Easthaven one day. He seemed to think that was unlikely. I believe otherwise.

I finally saw the conclusion of the nightmare I have been having.

Valen and Aethel were frozen instantly by the roar. Their bodies blocked the rest of the blast from reaching me. They saved me even in death.

The world went still. Time stopped.

I was desperate. I do not know who or what I reached for. I invoked everything I had. Every name I knew. Every god that has ever graced me with their blessing. All of it, at once, directed at my party.

It burned. But that sensation went quickly.

Replaced by cold.

So that is the whole story. I must have died in that moment. Whether this world is what comes after, or something else entirely, I cannot say.

I can only hope that whatever I cast gave them a chance to survive.

Oh Aethel. My dear sweet Aethel. I am sorry. I really am.

I know that my understanding of this world is still lacking. But I am very aware that sitting in Edvar and Hilda’s house waiting for answers is not the correct decision.

Let’s make a plan then.

• Find out what brought me here.
• Find out what is powering me.
• Find out if there is a way back to Arborea.

Valen, Ignis, Pippin and Aethel. I do not know if what I cast worked. I do not know if any of you survived. I pray that you did. But it is time for me to get answers.

I do not know where to start. But I am Heelie Faes, a level 70 Priest from the adventuring party “Blame The Healer”.

The new moon again. I stayed as I did not want Edvar and Hilda to sit in the cold and dark alone. With Osbert in Easthaven, it is just the three of us now. I really hope Osbert did not get picked to be sacrificed.

The fires went out house by house, the same as before. We sat together. No bottle this time. Just the cold and the dark and the sound of the wind off the lake. I watched over them until dawn.

A carriage came through the village yesterday. It leaves for Caer-Dineval tomorrow. I intend to be on it. Edvar and Hilda already knew this was coming. We said what needed to be said tonight. Fifty-five days. It is time.