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Fatima's Diary

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reflections for the lost

4. The Kingfisher

I think that I have learned the most about the comparison of my skills to my companions was when we struck deep into the theives guild. This lair was deep within the sewers that I had been previously exploring. Though cloaked with invisibility, we still cautiosly crept through the lair looking for a woman named Shirala. I discovered a sophisticated trap upon a secret door that my companion Whit was unable to; I can only attribute this find either to my quickly developing skill in observation or the plain luck that seems to flow in my veins. The battle that led to her capture was very revealing to me. I had wished to remain in the background, guarding the door while my other three compatriots subdued her. Unfortunately, she struck down one of use and was making short shrift of the other two and I realized that I must step in. I observed the pitched battle for a short while, trying to time my entry into the fray; I had wished to dance my way about to her side and slide my rapier across her throat, giving her the singular chance to surrender. As seemingly always, the luck that applies to everything else in my life failed me anew while engaged in combat with a blade. She fought me off like a tiger but she had tired enough for my rapier to find home in her flesh. I wish that I had held off for a bit longer, perhaps to study my foe further. Perhaps then I would have been able to slay her with a single well placed blow. Jerhyn had often spoken to me about this and encouraged me to bide my time and then strike as an adder who had been forgotten and thought merely a stick. I sometimes really don't see the point of bringing her to the justice of the law, especially the laughable night watch. Justice would have been better served with her head on a pike.

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