Memoirs of My Death
[This is a memoir describing in detail the visions of Bhaal seen by Sarevok Anchev after his death in the Bhaal Temple, centuries ago.]
The brethren often ask me: what was it like to die? They expect me to present a warring conflict: the humiliation of defeat against the honour of sacrifice. But once dead, it is impossible to think of oneself, of life, for you are in Bhaal's own embrace.
Bhaal's domain is a red waste land(sic) in a starless sky, halted in time before the collapse of the final sun. There I wandered, tasting the end of all things. I was dragged back from the precipice, bound to a living husk again by my mocking sibling. I resented it at first. I had forgotten how to breathe, to eat, all the animal functions of the petty who cling to life. But when I was cruelly resurrected, my faith was bolstered more through my death that it could be through life. I would bring about Bhaal's perfect finale. The melting of the crimson sun above the lakes of blood. It will happen. This world will be carved in his image.