I suspect I will have a great deal of time while the priest argues with various members of the town bureaucracy, so I will write this entry in my spare moments.
Again, we came far too close to being wiped out. We have lost one, and can not afford to lose another. We must learn when it is wiser to flee than to fight.
We traveled for several quiet hours towards the new town, through savannah, woods and the ambush point where we had defeated the orcs. Towards mid-day, we heard a low buzzing sound further down the path, followed by human screams. When we rushed forward to investigate, we found two wagons, guarded by at least a dozen men, nearly overtaken by an enormous cloud of locusts. We soon realized that these were not ordinary locusts. Rather than attacking the plentiful grasses, they flew straight for the wagons. Getting rid of the creatures proved a long and difficult task, where we had to use every means at our disposal. Our bodies provided sufficient distraction for many of the people to escape, but we quickly found that an attack by a hundred thousand insects could be far more dangerous than an attack by a few more powerful creatures. Waving them away did nothing, so persistent were their bites and stings, so we had to kill them using fire and magic. We threw all our alchemist's fire into the swarms, and the Infiltrator rushed about with torches, but they still persisted. When our situation was looking dire, and after I had used up all of my own spells that could be effective, I attempted to cast a spell off a scroll – one which I had been saving to study at a future time. I misunderstood the writing however, and almost funneled the entire power of a lightning bolt through my own head.
Shortly thereafter, an unusual event occurred which makes this battle worth describing in detail. A bright twinkle appeared in the sky, which was odd enough of its own accord in broad daylight. It grew as the battle continued, and I soon became aware that it was a large blue ball – egg-shaped, actually, that was plummeting from the heavens.
The fury of battle did not give me much time to think about it until it crashed to the ground, producing a shock wave that nearly knocked me from my feet, and which sent thousands of locusts buzzing about in confusion. In short order, the object cracked, and a strange woman emerged, seven feet tall and covered in the blue slime that had no doubt softened her impact. Enormous wings unfurled from her back, and without a word, she immediately set to helping us.
The event was odd indeed, but I put it in the back of my mind for the duration of the battle. Many of us, including myself at one point, passed out from blood loss, only to be revived by the priest. I attempted to read my scroll again, and this time, I released a powerful lightning bolt into the thick of the swarm. After that, I had neither spells nor a source of fire, and blood was leaking from hundreds of tiny bites in my skin and clothing, so I retreated, calling to the others to do the same.
I would never have thought that a swarm of insects could bring us so close to death. Although only a fraction of their number remained, none of us was holding up well, least of all the newcomer from the sky. The others ignored my urging, and remained, waving two torches in each hand to kill or frighten as many of the locusts as possible. The Infiltrator, the Empty Hand and the winged woman eventually fell unconscious for loss of blood, and the priest, in desperation, drank a potion that would allow him to resist fire, immolated himself, and ran into the swarm. Within a minute, I would no doubt have been the last remaining alive, had the locusts not finally dispersed, totally sated by the men and horses they had consumed.
The insects gone, I could finally consider the strange event that had occurred during the battle. The winged woman seemed open enough. She explained her mysterious arrival by saying she was send from the heavens to protect “those who had been dispatched,” and, more specifically, me. Although I have not yet expressed my doubts to the others, this seemed too accurate, yet far too general. She said we had been dispatched, yet would not say by whom or for what purpose. She had precisely the knowledge, in fact, of one who may have read the first entries of this journal without reading the rest. When pressed for details, such as why she had been sent, or why I had been picked as the one who most needed protection, she could give no answer. The Empty Hand also appeared suspicious. For the time being, I resolved to allow her to travel with us, but to watch her movements carefully.
Late in the night, we arrived at a dwarven outpost, but the dwarves would not let us in. They were in the middle of some leadership crisis, the details of which were not important enough to remember. What I do remember, in case it ever has relevance in the future, is that the current leader had been killed by orcs, and there were two viable contenders for the position. We slept outside.
At noon, we took a ferry across a river. We learned from some dwarves on the other side that the more viable contender in the leadership dispute was from the same clan as the treacherous dwarf in the first town we visited. I do not know whether that is important. The dwarves did not believe so. In their tradition, children can be punished for their fathers' crimes, but not for those of their brothers.
Later in the day, we came across a band of a dozen orcs, waiting in ambush. We quickly overcame them, and killed all but two, who surrendered. Although they claimed they had only attacked in self-defense, believing us to be one of many from the town we approach who hunt orcs, they wore the same medallions as the orcs who had attacked us in the past. The priest became very angry with them, but we eventually let them go. They were transporting their leader, who, we discovered, was the same orc tracker who had escaped us in the caves. He had a broken blade etched with dwarven runes. The orcs did not know their meaning.
Two reminders of old enemies in one day. At least one is no longer our concern.
We arrived at the town at noon the next day, and spent a few hours checking on a skiff that the priest had left nearby. The town's eighteen foot walls were built to withstand a siege, but most of the guard towers were empty. When we requested admittance, we were informed that our weapons and armor would be confiscated, even down to the Infiltrator's and my staves. In their place, we were permitted saps, with which it was legal to beat upon citizens. Even guardsmen could only carry weapons when on duty. An interesting philosophy, that. By making anyone who carries a deadly weapon a criminal, you ensure that only criminals will be armed with deadly weapons. It is also illegal to cast any damage-causing spells, on penalty of death. I will take that under advisement, and only use such magics when the official penalty will only duplicate an equal, less avoidable fate.
We have been escorted about by the town since we arrived, since we have not yet given up our weapons. The priest seems anxious to leave for yet another city, but the weather and the political situation in the town have conspired to keep him here. Though I am as comfortable here as I would be anywhere in the world of man, the priest is otherwise. The town is dirty and run down, and the temple is run by a neophyte (the last three priests died in rapid succession). He is insistent on keeping his weapons (we were unified on that front), and has offered to use his healing powers at the temple in exchange for the right to bear arms. The last guardsmen have left to ask the town council what to do with us. They will not return until the morning, so we will wait out the night in the temple.
I remember that one of the gate-guards looked out of place. He had an eastern look, both in face and in dress, and wore a beautifully ornate sword, of the type that would only be crafted for someone with a great deal of disposable wealth, or a greater deal of free time. As a symbol of rank or leadership, it seems excessive, though I admire the craftsmanship. A letter 'N' was haphazardly attached to the man's clothing, to indicate his membership in the town guard. The other guardsmen had the letter emblazoned on their uniforms. I was left with the impression that this one guard had respect for the others only in word, and only when required. He had an air about him as if he were above not only the town guard, but everyone in this town. I single out this one man in particular now because of his appearance, and because he more helpful than the others. I am curious now to discover what his place is, and whether, as part of me suspects, he is in the employ of the assassin's guild. It would be sensible to assign a man of such foreign appearance and manner to watch a group such as us. Our mutual foreignness could help build trust. Though I am far from certain that this man has any bearing on our mission, I will watch him, and I will not offer any trust that is not earned.