We have been found. Do to my own foolishness, we have been found. It was the Empty Hand who suggested why an assassin might target me out of all the people in this town. I was so confident in my success that I did not even make such a simple connection. The first entries of my journal of the world of man have been found.
I do not know why the mayor sent for me instead of gathering his own employees. Apparently he assumes that, as an arcanist, I am so much more literate than the average person that I must be sought out in the middle of the night to perform trivial tasks of the intellect. He asked me to skim through a few books of his, looking for references to the initials E.J. After an hour of scanning only mildly interesting histories, I came upon the name “Joazeera,” and asked the mayor of that was what he had been looking for. He had. Joazeera – I knew better than to ask what it meant, for surely the mayor would not know – had been the leader of some clan of drow, and the mayor suspected that E.J. was also a member, perhaps its new head.
I happened upon another passage, which described the mayor's staff. The book said that the staff could only be wielded by one who is worthy and pure of soul, and one who was trained in its use. I was certain the mayor did not fit these qualifications, but I kept the knowledge to myself. I was eager to return to my studies, and it was very late at night.
On my way back to the inn, an arrow flew past me and struck the well in the center of town. I considered flight only briefly; it is foolish to run from an assassin when she is fighting in the open, for she may come in secret later. I quickly determined her general location, and ran to the inn. I knew she was either on the roof of the blacksmith shop, or behind a window of the inn, and with my back to the inn, I would either be protected entirely, or have her in my sights. (Although I write 'her' in this journal, I did not discover her gender until much later, since she wore a dark veil and cloak). The assassin continued to fire at me, and I surprised myself by performing a feat I had never before even tried. Our master taught us years ago that one with a focused mind and accurate reflexes could spot an arrow approaching and swipe it away before it struck. During those few seconds, I discovered that I had this ability, and it surely saved my life.
Before long, the assassin realized that her ranged attacks were useless, so she lowered herself on a rope off the blacksmith's roof, and rushed at me with a rapier. Such a move was foolish beyond compare. For one, she was trained as an assassin. Having failed in a well-planned, safe and subtle murder, she should have fled and tried again another day. I had not yet identified her, so she would have been safe. Second, she must have known that I was a wielder of magic, and that I had been carrying a crossbow for the past few days. Although I did not kill her immediately, I struck her both with magical energy and a crossbow bolt before she could reach me.
Once she did reach me, I kept her in pursuit. I had the long-range weapon, and she wielded a rapier, so all I had to do was keep my distance. This tactic worked for some time, until she grew tired of narrowly dodging missiles and rushed at me. Although I was scratched up a bit, I managed to regain my distance and my advantage soon enough. Thinking back on my earlier battles in the world of man, I realize I was foolish to approach my enemies so closely. The others frequently asserted that I was a weakling, and should leave the hand-to-hand combat to those more able. At first, I took it as a meaningless insult, and neither responded nor faulted them for it, but I am fortunate to have realized my mistake before it killed me.
We continued our dance for some time, she dodging my arrows and me scampering away from her attacks. When we passed the door to the inn, I called out for help. Eventually, the assassin realized she was outmatched, or perhaps finally realized the risk of being caught and identified, or maybe only worried that lights were being lit in the inn, and she fled. I pursued, willing to take no risks with an assassin. She ran through the alleys and I managed to keep close enough to hear her. Then she made a second mistake. She levitated up the town wall. At first, I thought she was climbing, but she ascended too rapidly for that. When I noticed her levitation, the first thing that came to my mind was that she was a drow, some of whom, I had learned, could levitate at will. We had seen their kind before, and the mayor was continually worried about them, so it seemed a reasonable guess, though it turned out to be wrong. She had only used a potion.
As she ascended, I continually reloaded and fired my crossbow, and, although she was clear in my sights and at a severe strategic disadvantage, she managed to dodge most of my bolts, or be hit by them to least effect. Finally, just as she reached the top of the wall, one bolt struck hard in her back, and she plummeted to the ground.
I removed her veil, and recognized her face. She had engaged in idle chatter with both myself and the Infiltrator on multiple occasions, though she had seemed particularly interested in me. She was a patroness of the inn, so it was easy to guess that she had been the one looking through our rooms. The woman carried a belt full of potions, a pouch full of some valuable metal, and a roughly carved figurine of a pigeon, a magical object that could deliver a message to anyone, regardless of distance. She also wore a medallion around her neck, carved with a pair of burning daggers, which crossing each other and pointed upwards. The innkeeper, who was waiting outside his inn when I returned with the body, recognized the symbol. It belongs to a much-feared thieves' guild in the nearby city. At the time, I was blinded by my victory, and I could not fathom why a guild of thieves and assassins would target me. When the others returned the next morning, the Empty Hand had an answer which shows only how unworthy I am of this mission. The thieves' guild must have acquired my journal.