Whilst the day yesterday was carried by Tyberia, today was Neudvin‘s day. We ventured eastward: from the glorious sun of the plains to the damp dark of the forest. Just as the unease was beginning to leave me, we heard a sound from the nearby brush. Nymeria went out to investigate, and returned, bringing news of “many legs.” The wolf was true, for soon emerged a centipede of monstrous proportion. Tyberia had earlier placed herself up in a nearby tree, leaving both myself and Neudvin to fend it off. It’s whip-like tendrils swatted and hit Tyberia, I struck it with my sword, but Neudvin, blessed by the might of his god it would seem, knocked out from under the creature, each and every one of it’s many many legs. In fact, so distressed was the monstrous centipede that it found itself rolled onto it’s back.

Truly, it was a victory of great moment.

After which we took the time to take care of the bodies which we, the charter bearers, had previously put on display, believing that the message had likely been delivered.

The following is written in Celestial

What luck! Whilst travelling through the plains south of Oleg’s, Tyberia, Neudvin and I chanced upon a prominence of rock. Hidden within which was a small cavern. Without having rope, Tyberia bespelled the near wall with tangling thorns for us to make out descent. I did not think the cavern to be of any note, but Tyberia, who I’ve come to find exceedingly competent, recognized the face of a vein of gold. It is possible that we could one day come back here to mine out the vein.

I am of a mind to keep the vein a secret amongst only the charter bearers, Neudvin, Tyberia of course, and myself. I do not know what we will use the gold for, but it is always good to be prepared.

The rest of the day was not too noteworthy. We scouted about as best we could, but did not find much.

Praise Erastil for the simplicity and honesty of country folk! My gods, I had forgotten what people in the cities were like: liers, beggars, cheats, and miscreants.

We came to the city with a simple task in mind, to sell what few trinkets we have gathered, and to acquire fine suits of plate for myself and Neudvin. But oh no, Abadar’s faithful could not see to make such a task easy. No, instead we found ourselves paying more than fair for armor that was not even made by a master craftsman. As yet though, I at least have a decent suit of plate, having sold the magical scales I once shielded myself with.

I wonder why it is that I do not recall the city being this wretched before. Was it my youth? Nostalgia? Or was I simply a naïve young whelp? Whatever the reason, I best not dwell upon it. I have work to do; the Stag lord awaits my sword…

Having dispatched a band of worgs a couple days back, myself, the other charter bearers, my new comrade Neudvin, and the nature-worshiper Tyberia, find ourselves back at Oleg’s. We await a delegation from the city of Restov. I find myself somewhat anxious, wondering if I might know any of the nobles that make up this group…

…Alas, I did not know them, but I did know of them. People from powerful families holding powerful office within the city. They came to discuss the lack of security along their borders—especially their southern border, which we find ourselves coterminous to—and their desire for us to deliver the Stag lord’s…alive. Seeing as we already had a mind to send him to an early grave, we readily accepted their request. What troubles me about the meeting was the other threats they spoke of; other nations that see both Brevoy and the river kingdoms in a state of weakness. Also alarming was the open lack of faith and trust in their own leadership. I worry that real or perceived weakness in his majesty, King Surtova, will split Brevoy in two, sending it back to the warring and chaotic ways before the time of Choral.

Yet I find myself with some measure of hope and faith; both in you, my God of the Hunt, and in the strength of resolve of we, the charter bearers and our compatriots. We can quell the lawlessness of this part of the River Kingdoms, and bring some small measure of security to the people of this land, and to the nation of Brevoy.

Well, this was fortunate: just as I was thinking about keeping a journal, behold, I find an empty book! The oracle, not feeling well, something about the spirits or somesuch, has ventured back to Oleg’s. We still find ourselves venturing along the Skunk River, but with the news that Neudvin and Tyberia have brought us—what with the envoys from the Swordlords and Cheliax coming to town—we are heading north, out of the forest, to the plains, so that we can make a quick return to Oleg’s.

As we ventured through the plains, Caimbuel heard the howl of wolves. We rode towards to investigate, and encountered two creatures, which we later learned to be werewolves. Of course, we dispatched them with all due haste—saving the fact that I managed, by the grace of Erastil, to stabilize one of them, for later interrogation.

Expect more to come later, as I still have my watch tonight.