It took some effort to be admitted to the city, though not as much as to the previous town. Part of the reason, no doubt, was that the priest's family is widely recognized here. We had to disable our weapons in symbolic fashion, tying ropes around blades and covering the ends of crossbows with sacks, and they required a fee and a name to enter. There was quite an argument over the fee, since it was intended as a toll for adventuring companies, which many of us did not consider ourselves. Finally, to keep things moving, the priest paid the fee himself, and signed us up as “the companions of chance,” deriving it from a description provided by the Infiltrator, in his arguments against registering us as an official party. I was none too happy with this turn of events, especially when the guards asked for our names. Subtlety seems well nigh impossible in these lands. Again, the Empty Hand gave that foolish name he'd thought up when we first arrived in the world of man, and the Infiltrator gave a description that labeled him in the monastery. Strangely enough, it was only when I introduced myself as the Arcanist that the guards gave us funny looks.
We spent the day on basic errands, delivering the priest's mithril, dropping our prisoner off in the guardhouse, and visiting various people the priest was required to see. Had he not been there, we surely would have been lost in the maze of streets and alleys that they call a city. I do not understand how so many people can live in so small a place; just erecting the houses here must have taken centuries.
We brought the priest's mace to a temple, and the master of the temple took it. At night, the priest left us at an inn, but soon returned, saying that his father had allowed us to stay at his house. After resting for a short time at that excessively elaborate place, the priest took us on a tour of the city. I gathered that tour was intended to entertain us rather than to make any progress towards finding the tavern we sought. Once I figured that out, I stopped paying attention and let the priest lead us where he may. I now regret my behavior, since it would have been useful to have a better idea of the city's layout in my mind.
During the day, we learned one item of import. The eastern empire had fallen to our Enemy.
In the morning, we returned to the temple, where the priest recovered his mace after a lengthy discussion with the high priest. From the bits the priest told us, I gathered that he had to keep the mace for a month, suffering from its natural evil nature, before he could dispel the evil completely from it and restore it to his family. During that time, he could not allow the mace to leave his person. While we were there, the foreigner asked if anything could be done about his master. The high priest said he would do what he could, and took his master into the back of the temple for the night.
We spent the remainder of the day locating the tavern that the priest had seen in the mind of the cultist. We asked in temples and taverns about the activities of the cult, but learned nothing. One district of town was filled with refugees from the east. The foreigner spoke to them, and agreed to settle some trifling local dispute, but we learned naught of our mission. In the middle of the afternoon, we found a tavern that the cultist had visited, but it was not the one from the vision. We learned there that he had been seen with two elves, and that the three of them were likely to be found in a particular place. Soon, we were at the tavern from the vision. I was amazed that this search went so smoothly, but I suppose there are only so many taverns in a city, no matter how large.
This tavern was populated with what must have been the lowest among the people of the city. We witnessed several minor squabbles while we were there, and it seemed a full-scale brawl could break out at any moment. After sitting for a while with the others, I noticed that everyone employed by the establishment was an elf, and, at closer observation, that many of them had blue, scaly skin. I asked about it when the bartender approached us, and was told it was some form of plague. This seemed unlikely, since there would not be so many patrons of a place where the cooks carried a plague. Before long, we were kicked out without being given any particular reason.
Clearly, this was the place we wanted to be. While the priest went to the constabulary to obtain permission to investigate (far too much legal process for my taste), and the woman ran off to some temple to obtain their help, the rest of us watched the doors – the Infiltrator and I at the back, and the Empty Hand and the easterner at the front. After some time of waiting with no results, I mutated my form to appear like one of the rabble, and entered the tavern. Inside, I overheard that they had to “take care of the rest of them.” Who they meant, I was not to learn until later. They served me a drink that looked metallic and smelled a bit like blood. I touched the mug to my lips a few times, but refrained from drinking. I would like to find out what that substance is.
When my spell was about to end, I resumed watch at the back door. The priest and the woman returned, and when the tavern closed early, we decided we had to enter. With the Empty Hand, the Infiltrator and I at the back, and the rest of them at the front, the priest announced his presence and his warrant at the front door. That sent those inside scurrying, so the easterner broke down the door. That sound was our signal, and we broke down our door, but not before the Empty Hand injured his hand with a poorly-aimed strike.
Needless to say, we were immediately thrown into battle. The first stage, in the tavern's basement, went very well, the Infiltrator taking out an entire room of people at once by swiping their legs out from under them and leaving them sprawled on the floor, while the rest of us handled an equal number in another room. Most of these people wore robes, and their attacks were with some sort of electrical effect on their hands, similar to a spell I read of in my master's books. They did not show any other signs of being mages, however. I wonder how they gained such a power. At the end of the far room was a narrow shaft with a ladder leading into a sub-basement, and while the others cleaned up the remainder of the force, I jumped down the shaft, hoping to catch whoever was down there with a spell or two. I needn't embellish overly much on the foolishness of my action. I thought and acted in haste, and though I knew that whoever was at the bottom would be waiting to attack the first one of us to descend, I nevertheless took my chances, hoping I could defend myself well enough to lead an effective attack.
Fortunately, luck compensated for foolishness, and most of the arrows they shot missed, and one that would have hit I managed to deflect with a swipe of my arm. The battle was a hard one, even after the Infiltrator came to my rescue. The sub-basement was little more than a hallway. At the other end were a half-dozen robed fighters, protecting a single man, obviously a wizard, in the middle. This wizard had erected a shield that could block out any of my spells. He had strengthened his skin with another spell. Fortunately, his third spell showed me a weakness. Much like the vampire we had destroyed in the last town, this wizard made use of the most frivolous of magics, duplicating his image six times with illusions. The duplication was a hindrance to our attacks, but such a spell can only last so long, as each successful hit on an image caused it to vanish.
The wizard used all magic at his disposal against us, assaulting us with a magical web, which I burned clear, summoning creatures to aid him and using a wand to pelt me with magical missiles. When I threw my most powerful spell at him, encompassing him with a ball of fire, it could not break through the shield, but it affected his men, making it all the easier for the others to overpower him. The missiles forced consciousness from me at one point, but the woman healed me. I must uncover her motives!
Finally, the priest and the Infiltrator succeeded in pinning him to the floor and killing him. Two of the men survived, and we later escorted them to the city prison.
At the end of the hall, past the bodies, was a curtain, and behind that, we found a dozen or so shackled prisoners, all refugees from the east. There were also two bedrooms, in which we found some money, a few useful items, and the wizard's journal.
Six months ago, the wizard and his men had been sent to this city by the warrior woman we'd learned of from the cultist. Since he had come, he'd been magically transporting two refugees a day to the east. He and his entire cult were working for the Enemy.
I can almost feel our Enemy's fiery breath on my neck as we come ever closer to our goal.