Wealday, Abadius 15

Olithar’s death still hangs over us. Over me.

I am not naive. This work that we do is dangerous and not without significant risk, and Olithar like the rest of us knew those risks and faced them willingly and without hesitation. In the past months we have seen many terrible sights, witnessed violence on a scale unheard of in modern times, and confronted an ugliness that would chill even the most hardened man. Though we never spoke of it directly, we were all aware of how close each of us has come, some of us over and over again, to giving our life for this cause, and that it was but a matter of time before misfortune caught up with us. And so it did.

Part of me understands Olithar’s wishes to not return, but part of me also wishes that it wasn’t so. Such is growing up, I suppose.

I am frustrated that Xanesha lives. We were close. We had her. But we lacked skill with ranged weapons, having relied too much on magic in the past to meet this need. As prepared as we were, the assault on the tower has revealed a critical gap in our capabilities, and it is one that must be filled.

One wonders how much higher a price we would have paid had we not taken the time to plan our rather unusual ascent up the clock tower. It is clear from Xanesha’s meager defenses that she had expected nothing more than a simple, direct assault from the interior stairs. By coming up the outside with magic to aid our ascent we were able to reach the scaffolding nearly unscathed, closing the distance so rapidly that they had no time to adjust to our tactics. The best they could muster were a few bricks that were left over from the feeble attempts to repair the structure, thrown at us as we climbed.

If our plan had a flaw, it was that it simply worked too well and allowed half of our party to reach the roof without adequate combat support. From what Rigel and Kane describe, however, that may not have mattered in the end, for Xanesha had a few tricks of her own and Olithar’s fate was sealed in the first few seconds of her appearance. The best we might have managed had we all been there would be to give her more targets to choose from, and that is a sobering thought.

Even unprepared and disadvantaged Xanesha proved a difficult and capable foe. Had we been forced to come up that scaffolding as she had intended we might be mourning more than just one of our friends. Our cleverness is cold comfort, however, as Olithar is dead while Xanesha lives. I am not one for revenge and settling scores, but…this situation does not sit well with me.

Joaqin says that feeling will pass. I hope so, because I cannot afford to have my judgement clouded.

The mayor has made us rich men (and women) and I have to admit that I am surprised, shocked even, at what he has done. Not just the money, or even giving us his word and then keeping it, but also the actions he has taken to protect his town, and the citizens whose names appeared on Xanesha’s list. This is not the Lord Mayor Blah Blah Horse’s Ass that I thought I knew, or maybe it’s that he’s far more complicated a man than I ever gave him credit for and that I only knew one facet of many. I don’t know. In the end, he is doing the right thing, and not just for himself.

I would never have guessed.