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.