We visited the humans capital city. To their credit, the expansive sprawl makes for an impressive skyline. It must be difficult to defend.
Along the side of the page, a column of statistical information is compiled in a patchwork of draconic and orcish numeric symbols
Parker has been tasked with a seemingly benign assignment and asked not only for our help but also our obedience. I suggested he attempt to earn it, which – of course – he understood as an agreement to his terms. He also informed us that an observer would be accompanying us. Oh, good.
Parkers’ observer is more furtive than i would have imagined, being of the same institution. He asked about Parkers combat prowess – I was happy to give my assessment. Parker is a tactical fighter – focusing his hatred of irregularity and chaos into his blade. He does have a tendency to complain, however.
We visited a seemingly insignificant shrine outside the city. The attendants assured us all was well. We made camp in the fields between the shrine and a nearby town. Attacked by devils of some kind – they sought Parker out even though I was clearly the more dangerous foe – this, of course, reveals their purpose. After dispatching the devils, Wilford spotted one of the temples acolytes running back to the temple. Bleeding from an infernal wound, Parker understood this to be a form of hazing.
After quickly deciding a direct assault to be the best option, Parker and I rent the temple doors asunder and engaged the enemy force. After a tactical melee in which Parker took the forward position, I approached on the left flank to split their force and approach their leader.
Their leader was felled by Wilford only to take the form of a winged demon. We renewed our offense, spilled a lot of blood, and struck the demon down. The winged demon set his sights on Parker – he wished to posses his mind and body. The silent observer cast aside his cloak and revealed his face, and a mighty blade. Thrusting it into the temple floor, he bathed the demons’ soul in glorious incandesence – destroying it forever.
Glad thats over.
I asked the observer – the leader of Roi’s inquisitors – about the masked wizard. As I expected, he showed no fear. He suggested we speak to the towns bards of the ‘forgotten king’. I see wisdom in his cousel, for the simple telling of tales may serve to keep our search a secret from our enemies.
further notation written in draconic
Our new found property holds quite a bit of value. Its fields can be sewn, the walls can be rebuilt. But who will protect it? Perhaps our clan will be interested in relocating here. Generations have been wasted on war with our own kind over who will rule the barren foothills and sundered mountainside. I have seen enough of the world to know we can never prosper in perpetual conflict.
The following page is partially filled with writing, but obscured by blotches of spilled ink and weasel paw prints