I find myself possessed of a strange desire to put my thoughts to paper as the last gutters of my spent candle even now warn of the late hour. I admit I have never been a man to put much stock in words, but perhaps the act of writing out the scattered contents of my troubled mind will put some order to them.

Recent happenings have given me much cause for celebration. My noble friend, Reynaldo, has appeared to cheat death itself. Less than three weeks ago, I saw my companion die at the hands of the accursed daemon, Fellhand. He gave his life so that we would live, and to remove that legion-borne terror from the face of our world forever (Theus grant this to be the truth....). I had not even begun to fully realize my grief for this loss when we found him none the worse for his dramatic plunge into a fiery abyss. The fool was tucked safely away in the inn we procured for ourselves in Carleon. I thank whatever powers arranged Reynaldo's "second chance". Perhaps now my friend can crawl forth from the choking shadow of his past and enjoy life with a smile that isn't forced. He deserves at least that much, I think.

All cause for reverie aside however, my strange meeting with McAllister earlier this afternoon has me feeling more than a just a bit uneasy. I am not entirely sure what I went to the Queen's fortress expecting. Though I am sure that it certainly was not the strange reception that I received from my Queen's so called "black knight". Now that I put my thoughts to the pen, I suppose I went expecting my fears to be cast aside. Foolish, I realize in hindsight....

My feelings regarding the Admiral's death.... No, not his death, his murder.... are awash in the grim acceptance of something that needed to be done, and the horror that the very acceptance reveals about myself. When I left my old life behind, I sought meaning in the ideals that the McDuff had always represented to me. Despite my father's warped view of the Highmarch King, James McDuff had always seemed to be a man of honor in both word and action. When he embraced Queen Elaine as the rightful ruler of the Avalon Isles, I did the same... With all my being!

The Queen represented all that was good and noble in the glorious history of our island nation. In trying to live up to the ideals of chivalry and honor, at least in my own strange way, I realize that I was trying to atone for my past sins. Was I naive? Probably... But for me it was enough. In service I found hope.

When Clayborne convided his deed to me, I balked at the notion that my Queen would order murder. Even the murder of a bastard like that Montaigne fool. I half convinced myself that Clayborne had acted on his own, or perhaps even that his claim of knighthood was nothing more than the pitiful ravings of a man that saw his end close at hand. How could a Queen that ruled in the name of chivalry have sent this agent of death? Admittingly, the Admiral had been a thorn in the side of our Sea Dog navy... But death in his sleep?

My fears had easily been overlooked in light of the joyous events the followed our arrival in Caleon. But now? Why the secrecy of my meeting.... no, in truth I can call it no less than an interrogation.... with Sir McAllister? Does he act alone without the knowledge of my Queen? On one hand I pray this is so, as it removes the foul stain of blood from her hands. On the other, I fear for Good Elaine if she clutches such a viper so near to her heart.

Unfortunately, this possibility raises still more concerns. If he indeed is the one behind the Admiral's death, will he be content in the knowledge that I possess? I may well have endangered the lives of my friends by telling him what I have. I swore I would never do so again....

I have confided some of my thoughts with Valliere earlier this evening. I find his council to be wise despite his foppish ways. And I know from experience that the man does not fear death at his friends' sides. That alone is reason to listen to the man. He has counseled caution... and perhaps he is correct to do so. If I am wrong in my suspicions, Bors McAllister would make a fearsome enemy. But damn it all to the pits of Legion... What if I am right?!