Guile Journal #7: Freed Slaves and Questionable Lodgings

 Entry #7

The trigger has been pulled on our most recent plot, and the first stage of our plan has been accomplished. Now it is merely a matter of guiding along the intended chain reaction.
Roe and Salin spied ahead and set up preliminary traps, while Pellanistra and Antonio stayed behind to ambush the slaver traders. Meanwhile, I disguised myself as a slave in order to– from within their ranks– ensure their escape, and make doubly certain that Helen didn’t attempt any last-minute trickery.

Reconnaissance, vantage, infiltration, and the element of surprise; all the proper ingredients to victory, assuming every parts is played without incident.

Though I am happy to announce our mission’s success, I must dutifully admit I was something of a weak link during battle. When the fight broke out as expected, and the signal was given for my party to head for the exit, the escaped slaves and I were suddenly collared and dragged away from our intended route. I had enough time to pull my gun and fire missiles into the heads of the vagabonds attacking members of my group, but I myself was sorely reminded of my physical weakness in my fruitless struggles to pull free. Luckily, Roe filled my assailant with a hail of arrows from her vantage point atop the roof, and Antonio hurried to my aid with sword in hand.

Before the mission, our party was encouraged to wound rather than kill… but in my anger I very much forgot. Thus, when a vagabond attempted to recapture me upon my release, I turned him into a flesh-firecracker on impulse, sending chunks of charred man-meat flying off in every direction as my temper flared.

Since I was disguised at the time, I hope Pellanistra can excuse this mistake. If not, perhaps the accidental display will at least prove to her that I don’t fall victim to Blood Frenzy. 

On the other hand, Pellanistra may have far too much faith in me. After seeing off the ship of rescued, I caught up with my team deep in the ruins of Illusk, where followers of Graz’zt reign with devilish activities. Though our primary hub was out of danger, it was thoroughly entrenched in cult hotspots, with The Bloodbound undoubtably not far behind. 

My friends have proven competency in fighting devils. Despite one small unfortunate stint when Pellanistra fell to one of the charm spells, they made quick work of Gratz’zs men. By the time I rejoined the party, the enemy was dead, and Pellanistra had regained her senses.

Antonio, pulling the little archdevil’s emblem from the slaughter, was quick to recognize its similarity to the symbols inked into my face and chest. He seemed curious regarding my tattoos, asking about them with a genuine fascination, as well as his usual charm and congeniality.
I promised to tell him of it in the morning. At that instant I was too troubled by our surroundings to tarry for a history lesson. I could feel Blight throb against his wrappings, I could taste his euphoria in the presence of fellow devils, and feared his long spell of silence was on the verge of another cessation.

Adding to my troubles is Roe's strange behavior, ever since Pellanistra recovered from the mental attack. The Tabaxi has asked no questions, only hiding away in distant observation and abundant suspicion.
I have no desire to play the middle man between the spurned cat and her friend, but Roe’s independent spirit troubles me. The charm of her strangeness is blemished by an apparent inability to consider anyone’s mind but her own. She resides in a world where her own impulses are all that exist, and every other heart is merely a fleeting shadow.

A team’s success hinges on their ability to communicate clearly and forgo ego for the sake of the mission. I know I am far from a golden example, but there is a great difference between imperfect altruism and remiss autonomy.

I only hope that Pellanistra regains the trust of the troubled tabaxi. Roe is a creature of incredible skill and cunning... if only it were easier to get through to her without interventions and guesswork.