Wheel of History

In the very eventful span of one productive day we were beset by beasts both pantherine and hominine – the former’s heart punctured by yours truly; the latter driven to retreat by the might of our combined arms. Even so, I believe Zalia’s offensive magicks were the deciding factor that made this self-styled “rememberer” Ezzan flee. He even left us a parting gift before he left the field! I had to wring it from his cold, dead-but-not-quite-so-deceased grip, but it’s the thought that counts. And he so clearly wished to deliver a powerful pyromantic spell – the type used by frontline battlemages to break up formations or set hamlets ablaze – directly into our hands, free of charge! What’s not to like? What’s a little heat when you’ve already been washed with pure hellfire?
 
Everything. Tous. It is by the grace of providential circumstance that he did not get the chance to fire a highly potent artillery spell against us. And unlike a real formation, we have neither a contramagus hunter detachment nor an anticantator to protect us. I saw how Zalia’s spells blinded and confused the man, but I am not sure if that alone would have stopped him from using it, even if he incinerated himself in the process – he didn’t exactly disguise his pallid, dead exterior. The look that one has when death is an inconvenience, not a terminal end.
 
We are lucky that Ki’tor’s angelic heritage allows him to channel immense divine healing derivates – he might have fallen otherwise. I feel bad for lecturing him on his questionable choice of supposed skirmisher tactics – it was too soon. I should have been more considerate. We are equals in our merry band: I cannot conduct myself as a laurifer of the Prima Cohort. I need to write that down a few more times.
 
Even so, it’s hard not to fall back into my legionary rote. The danger presented to us has been raised considerably and in a very personal manner. Ezzan was clear in his intent and actions to get rid of me, Ki’tor, and Zalia as a means of having Jane returned to the service of Morbrand. Whoever that is.
 
That’s today’s thoughts noted down. We now have an enemy that can seemingly track our movements and anticipate our path – who wants Jane re-employed and us dead. And with a title of such provenance, Ezzan will probably remember the woman who blinded him and infer the one who tore the scroll from his hands. And for all our sakes, Jane needs to remember every last detail of her historical arrangement with Morbrand – and everything about him. She likely had good reason, or even no choice, to withhold or suppress information from us before, but that changed today.

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P.S. And we are selling that silly stone I pulled from the displacer beast’s digestive system! Hoarding is a privilege afforded to those with endless purses and senseless galleries. Like the Garderiques. Or uncle Mathieu. Or Jeremy.