The time spent in Tazion was more useful than intended. While we tarried there, our caravan arrived behind us with goods to buy and sell. The guard captain- Rowtillius Havalar- told us of our rivals and how they had harried our smaller party. They consisted of those Aspis Consortium cravens and Red Mantis assassins. I understood their tactics and convinced Havalar to lay an ambush for them- their strength lay in shadows and traps, not in toe-to-toe confrontation. As our rivals entered the city, our guardsmen routed them with help from my sword, Glib’s magic, Ironbeard’s spear, Bary’s sling, and the witch’s hexes. During the fray, we spotted the leaders. It was the snake-fiend from the Shiv, followed by a wizard, a pirate, and two women we were shipwrecked with! One of the women there from the Shiv had spurned my advances those months ago, giving me an impressive knee to the groin. I don’t even remember her name, but her face dredged up that memory and I became very, very angry. A titanic victory ensued. Glib cast a dread spell at the flying wizard, turning his own worst fears against him. The mage died screaming 30 feet in the air, then plummeted to the ground. Our groups met then, and glib cast yet another powerful spell, this one on me. I became invisible and no one could see the eager smile on my face. The next few moments were truly a blur as I gave in to the orc-rage, but I do remember spells and sling stones whirring through the air, my scythe chopping, the warm blood of my foes covering me, and finally ripping the head off the snake priestess. The Shiv woman was still alive, surrendered, so I curbed my bloodlust and gave her a wicked shot to the face- with a fist, not a blade. It seemed as if the snake thing had magically controlled this group and with her end came the end of the spell. They surrendered to us, one and all, and we joined forces for the sake of mutual profit. I called for their deaths, but my companions convinced me to let them live. I hope trusting these snakes and insects works out.
The path to Savath-Yhe turned out to be less dangerous as Bary expertly guided us to the lost city. Once on the outskirts of the ruin, we encountered the ghost of a half-orc who had found the city, but died and never was credited for the find. After we destroyed the spirit, we told Amavor to make a note of this man in his Pathfinder journal. His spirit found peace after this credit, and he would not bother our camp any longer.
We are in remarkably high spirits now with our camp set up and the ripe fruit of Savath-Yhe laid out before us and ready for the picking. Its secrets and treasures await.