If Not Them, Why Not Me?

"Azriel". A name I have not uttered in months.
A name I hoped would not cross my path again so soon.
Yet here we are, where she once was; and apparently her lips were as loose as her tainted ideals for our captor knows far more than he should.
 
Upon waking we found ourselves welcomed and duty ridden as if rising from a straw bed with our mums belaying over our tardiness in accomplishing morning chores. The only difference was the lingering poison upon the dank air. My comrades acquiesced readily but there was no calming my soul. I should've known Azzy wouldn't be strong enough. And yet, when questioned I gave her name. She who guided us. She who wrent our souls from that place...She who we abandoned. She, the only name I could give other than the one I was given... Marina...and yet he knew of her too.
 
I find this, my first moment of rest amidst the halls of a family in which I do not belong. None of us belong here and yet it feels easy to abide the wills of this, Soren Haverstadt. His name, as many from the dark time, is a lingering poison in my ears...even if he promises freedom. He does not know freedom because he does not know enslavement. He wantonly seeks a universal remedy I fear will only bring more destruction to this plane.
 
This I know. If allowed, Soren will certainly tempt the patience of the gods and, though I am rogue enough to admit a life without their piety would certainly be freeing but at what cost? I still have not figured out from where my cleric power is coming from. Dare I challenge those who gift me such to free the world from the effects of a god's will? Alas... I refuse to seek comfort here. My mission of redemption is on hold until I figure out what is really going on in this cavern.
 
Rest beckons but my mind lingers on my old companions...if Azzy is here.. where did the others end up? Did Cyvjon make it to the city of Dragonspur? Did Il'Ravel make contact in the North of Zel? Marina...