The Road to Jathan

In general, I am reasonably able to expect what will happen. With some decent rational thinking and peering into the Weave to glean the possible future, one can anticipate some of the most unlikely events to occur. And yet it is not perfect and some events are beyond the ken of mere mortals...
 
The bandit camp we aimed to eliminate was well defended. Morrigan and Mortimer both scouted it out and found a sizable cadre of fighters and Morrigan was soon to discover the accuracy of one of the longbows. We steeled ourselves and went over a possible plan of action. This plan was promptly discarded when Angus Bhodsa heard the word 'charge' in conversation and decided to do just that. A few shouts later and it was a pitched combat between our group of six and the entirety of the camp plus a ballista which we had not glanced before...
 
We careened forward in the cart and I set about using the crossbow in my pack to better conserve my magical ability for when we would be more spent. A bolt hit the cart causing a rain of splinters and a great deal of dread took hold in me. I had foreseen battle and death but the feeling of desperation and danger had not translated into me until that moment and fear gripped me. At some point a large orc had come and attempted discourse. One of our number dismissed the negotiation, later I found this was due to past history with the orc's clan and I couldn't fault them, and pitched combat began. I launched several magic missiles into the brute before Morrigan soared above him. Echoes perceived in my morning visions rang out into the source as she burned his savage countenance with a gout of dragonflame.
 
During this time, a roguish tabaxi leapt down into the fray and stood ready to act. Another reminder of the limitations of my sight when the same flame caused the cat to drop his illusions and reveal that he was in fact the Cat we had been chasing, Jospehi Catarovsky. As the orc fell the Cat cloaked himself in invisibility and fled, much as he was wont. We shall deal with him eventually but we seem to be on the right path still. Soon the chief of the bandits joined the fray wielding foul blood magics and clearly mad. As he fell, the camp was ours to claim.
 
Upon searching the camp, many prisoners were freed and sent off in the direction of Kirkfaern. I instructed one of their number, one which felt true to my divinatory instincts, and gave him a letter and parting gift to grant the Bhodsa clan. I felt a strange guilt for our time there and a rod which quickened the growth of crops seemed a fitting way to ease the wounds recent history had inflicted along with some hardy hands which might replace the lost lives. Still, I've a strange notion of that rustic hamlet... it itself feels as though it is tied up with this 'moment of destiny' I've only briefly attempted to untangle. To what extent is anyone's guess but it would do us good to check in once we claim the Cat's head for Madame Bhodsa. Among other treasures was a mystical artifact which has fine tuned my divinatory capabilities, which I have found quite good.
 
We travelled a fair bit longer before we happened upon ruins in the forest. I advised that daring would allow us to act more as a preventative than a cure for Unclean incursion and the promise of wealth seemed to convince them. A spirit accosted us and we proceeded to press it back before advancing further into the ruin... I shall write more as time comes.