Skirmishes in the village at the river crossing have revealed a few nasty surprises, but nothing to the scale of the traps from the other day. The villagers here were far from innocent bystanders. They were warriors in wait, with weapons stashed in their homes and under loose garments. I’m not sure who exposed the first, but once it became clear the Sondu would conduct a thorough sweep, the ambush was sprung.
Thankfully there were few losses on our side of the fight. Fodafa will move his army into the village once it has been checked over again and cleared. He has refused to grant us further audience. So long as Dionus is with me, he will not permit me near. So long as he maintains his bigotry, I won’t bother with him either.
We will maintain a patrol around the island, sticking to this far shore from Matasten as we ensure the Daedra do not make successful crossings. I don’t know what to expect from here, but Dionus and I are agreed that the odds of raids are high. It’s what we would do in their position.
What we really need is to find a way to draw the Daedric forces out into a pitched battle.
Wudan has been dying to practice with the Atmosphere, which comes as no surprise. I know how difficult it can be to quell one’s curiosities, to be forced into hiding just when the world seems to be opening for the first time. He’ll have too great of an opportunity to explore his power soon enough.
Dionus has the same itch, though his is more in the form of an addiction. He has become reliant on his touch to see the world around him, to quest out and keep his finger on the very pulse of the winds. It’s making him twitchy to run and swing among the treetops and know he cannot yet soar like that as he would wish.
We all of us must lay in wait for the right moment. The opportunity to strike will come; patience is our truest friend now.