Excerpt from the journal of Luís Alonso de Léon, High inquisitor
Our sixth week in this damned city draws to an end. Even when not under direct attack by some creature or heathen warband, we have experienced strange days and even more unsettling nights. Finally we are beginning to accustom to this all devouring place though, and have made efforts to defend ourselves against surprise attacks and weird events.
I feel we might be getting closer to the task at hand - to arrest the traitor and bring him to justice, and thereby cleanse the name of the temple -
-----
While writing this entry, the new elf, of which I have no Idea how to write the name, who joined our warband 4 days ago made himself valuable as promised. He alerted us to the danger far before we could hear anything, but surely, as soon as we took up defensive positions, we could hear them, and immediately noticed a large band of marauding wildmen rushing down the streets directly at us!
A lot of shots were fired, arrows were shot, but the wildmen kept coming, like they were driven by an unnatural force - which is not surprising in this accursed place. before we could take out enough of them, they were amongst us, rushing into the building, and taking the fight to us up close.
Gregor, noticing the approaching danger jumped down from our position on the second floor, diving straight into the group of large and strong men, and swinging his large hammer. He managed to put one to the ground, but then the other three quickly took it's place. There was nothing left for me but to follow him down, and aid him in battle.
Just then I heard a shrill cry from the other end of the building, Fredrick dropped down from his position, crawling around and grasping his head while trying to hit something I could not make out. With a cry of warning Diego jumped for his aid, but also got knocked out of balance, and dropped down next to him.
I could not make out the exact shape of their attackers, but the shrieks which sounded in the air made it clear that there was a threat in the form of witches! Quickly I emptied my barrels into the bowels of a young warrior, and while Gregor spun his hammer around again, I noticed Roderick fiercely clubbing down two more of the wildmen. And sure as he saw them coming, so did the Elf first pick up their wavering morale. Picking out the precise target, he turned the tide, and the warriors rushed off.
A short cheer of victory was let out by my fanatic flaggelants, but again, the Elf pointed out the new danger, the witches had now entered the building, and were amidst our men before we could make out their warlike appearance. Quickly rallying my warband I threw everything we had at them, putting the first wave to the ground in short time, to have the second wave stumble upon their dead bodies and question their morale!
Quickly taking advantage of the situation, Gregor knocked down one more, and they, also, broke away, leaving us with one of them captive.
---
Sadly, though a solid victory was accieved, and no real loss of life was suffered, Frederick lost his eye to the foul magics of the witches, and will be less valuable in the next battles...
But only fate dictates the outcome of those conflicts.