Well, he'll do his best to duck, and his best is Guidance-enabled?

It's not very hard to dodge.

Some of the other motes seem to... tackle?... the one that threw the snowball, and they buzz around for a bit, bouncing off each other. Other motes continue watching Blai, floating around. Some of them float back off into the storm.

Maybe it's an elemental swarm somehow.

The motes don't appear to calm down over time. If anything, some of them seem increasingly agitated. More of them appear out of the storm. After a tussle, some of them split off and fly west (if Blai can still tell what that is). Another two chase after them after conferring with the rest. The others keep their distance and hover.

Nine minutes later, the storm seems to intensify, and become more turbulent. Some of the motes come back, more of them peel off, the remaining are darting around and floating higher.

One of them—a different one this time—throws another snowball at Blai's chest, then also gets tackled, and a bunch of them ascend up into the storm, out of sight. There's only two or three left lingering by him.

What curious creatures. He doesn't know if they create the storm or just travel with it. Maybe he'll ask next time he stops in a town.

The wind howls one last time, pattering Blai with hail, and then the storm seems to let up more. The last motes flit off, and visibility slowly recovers. But wait, there's few of the blue motes off there in the distance, dancing their way towards him in an odd pattern—they scatter, flying up, and the hailstorm lifts away—

There's a 14-foot-long scorpion barreling towards him!

Does he have time for zero one or more spells before it strikes?

How about one spell. It's got a bit of distance to cover, still, but it's moving pretty fast.

Refine Improvised Weapon, then, and he wants it to be a spear, for the reach and so he can set it against the charge -

The scorpion's natural armor is too hard to penetrate, but he manages to catch one of the chinks, impaling the scorpion on its own momentum. It's a devastating hit—for anything that's not a gargantuan scorpion. As it is, the scorpion is wounded, but only just.

Angered and surprised, the scorpion snaps a claw at Blai, seizing him in a crushing vice and lifting him up.

Well, he was hoping it'd be alarmed by food willing to fight back but no such luck. Delay Poison lest it sting him.

Black blood sprays from the scorpion's head. A long, curved sword is suddenly sprouted through its neck. The creature drops to the ground with a thud, spasming in its final throes, and Blai gets a nasty fall as the claw holding him goes drops slack.

...he extracts himself from the limp claw. Is this Gazi or a stranger?

Gazi fades into visibility, standing atop the dying scorpion.

"Do you know why, to all appearances, the Winter Sprites tried to kill you?"

Does he need a healing potion? It didn't look that bad, but crushing injuries aren't always externally visible.

He channels energy and continues walking north.

"Is your plan just to die in the desert? I don't know what you're trying to achieve here."

She can continue to not know that.

"You can't hike back to Liscor from the backsands of Nerrhavia's Fallen. You didn't last even two days in the desert. I admire your adherence to the principle of spite, but one has to pick their battles."

"I'm afraid I will not be available to make appointments until such time as I've returned to my office. I regret the delay."

"You would return to your office faster if you cooperated." By which she means possibly ever.

That sounds like the kind of claim he could entertain if he were in his office, but alas!

This man is beginning to irritate her.

"You spent but a month on Izril, and you would undertake how many months of travel to return?"

His itinerary is not actually a secret but she'll need to make a fucking appointment!

"My patience has a limit."