Let us just move past all the broken bones and carnage strewn across the mountain side, as well as the multitude of failed attempts that lead to extended convalescence under the care of a local healer; slipping between the borders of madness and sobriety. Let us also look past the poor weapon and armor choices, inappropriate skill management and miscalculations with the business end of a sword.

Instead, it is time to bask in the glorious defeat of that fiery harpy known as Xavara. It may have only happened once, but it counts, and I’m accepting the reward.


Yes my little mud buddy, I know you did most of the work with your mighty ground pulverizing punches. I also agree that things would have gone more smoothly had I not fallen headlong into the sulphur plumes on those first few attempts. In my defense, it was dark. But in the end I did offer up a few critical strikes and managed not to fall off the cliff, so double victory in my book.

I would regale you with more riveting details of the epic struggle, but I’m quite sure I need to visit a healer as that last crushing body slam has take a debilitating toll on my person and I’ve lost all feeling in my body.

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Recent Comments