14xx/07/10 Johannes Calendar

70 days since arrival…

Latina decided to invite me to meet her tribe. It seems that her people's custom is to introduce a centaur's rider to her family before embarking on a year-long journey or so. As the departure date grows even closer, she thought that today would be a good day to do it.

As I have done nothing but training for the last week, I felt like it's a high time for another cultural experience.

We used feathers again, because Latina doesn't feel like walking again for at least another week, not when the ship is so close to being ready. That's what she said, but even a fool like me can see her discomfort. This was the first time I saw her this perturbed before. Bloody hell…

We materialized right in front of the peculiarly-looking village on a field of white flowers. It looked a lot like Mongolian-style housing, what with their distinctively familiar tents made from white fabric. The largest tent was in the middle, surrounded by smaller tents. Probably the chief's house what with its elaborate gold embroidery on its red fabric. Children darted between the tents, drunk on childhood joy. I was a little bit surprised to see that they were a mixed bunch; a centaur girl can be seen chasing a fully-human child, while a knife-eared fellow watched the proceeding with a content smile as he continues his patrol.

As we entered the village, I cannot ignore the many eyes that trailed my movement, even though they appeared to be uninterested. The senses of a hunter sizing up a potential prey. Mercifully, none makes a move, for they assumed that I am Latina's quarry.

I was then led to a substantially-sized blue tent, which has the symbol of a crossed spears. But before I could compose myself, a blur almost struck me down. I drew my handgun, only to realise that the attacker's target was Latina, and her weapon of choice is a bone-crushing hug. Similar to her sister, she was also a silver mare, but her golden hair and blue eyes stand in contrast to Latina's own green eyes and brown mane. Her breast however, were outrageously large, like two oversized basketballs in a small schoolbag.

As we entered the domicile, her sister's size was downright criminal. Compared to the mountains of flesh and sin her sisters sported; Latina seems downright modest. The interior of the tent were absurdly large, for most of the spaces were dug out underneath the tent. It was modestly furnished too. Mercifully, Latina has only three sisters; a blonde bimbo that nearly killed Latina with a hug, a blue-eyed brunette with a motherly voice, and a stern-looking, green-eyed blonde which despite her pony-like size, packs the largest breast among her kin. Their name unfortunately slipped my mind.

The look of relief in her face shows her genuine love for them. The conversations flowed like an ancient river; imposing and unceasing. All I could do was ride the wave as the siblings' exchanged stories of their own.

The current of conversation would've lasted to the night if not for Latina's intervention. She stopped herself, and told her of her journey. Realising the weight of her situation, her sister agreed to accompany her to the soothsayer's longue on behalf of their parents, whom both were out on a long exploration journey.

With that said, we make haste toward a modestly sized tent with pure white cloth and green embroidery. The two burly guards at the entrance stopped us at first, but Latina vouched for my loyalty and thus the centaurs raised their spears and let us in.

The scent of incense and sweet-smelling herbs fills the air, almost suffocating in its overwhelming presence. It was lavishly furnished with brown furs and myriads of unknown herbs which was neatly arranged inside the few small but tough shelves she has. Little puppets made from feathers and white flowers hung neatly from the ceiling, like a family of little spiders hanging from a spiderweb. In the middle of it all was a small fire pit with an ornate clay pot brewing hot water.

The shaman is a white mare, or a white pony to be exact. It felt weird seeing such a small centaur when most of the centaurs I've met was actually horse-sized. But here she is, lain delicately on a simple rug made from luxurious brown fur. Her long blonde hair was done in a simple bun and fastened by a red-feathered pin. Her milky white eyes swept from left to right before settling directly at me with a dumbfounded expression, as if those blinded eyes can see my gears. Perhaps she smelled it? Her nose appears to be sharper than normal, so was her ears. She wore a simple blue robe that was surprisingly far more modest than I expected, even with her ample bosom.

She was the local shaman of this little village. Given the gift of foresight, in exchange for today's blindness as they call it. She spoke clearly and slowly at me, as if trying not to set me off. Latina then asked her to help see the future as they call it. She never been over the seas, and she wanted to know if the risk was worth it to continue the partnership.

The shaman nodded, and then took the pot away. She plucked two puppets from the ceiling, then asked for our hairs. I was personally happy that she didn't ask for my semen. Our hair then was deftly tied into the puppets, before thrown into the small but steady flame. The fire engulfs the puppet with a massive conflagration, such insane heat nearly putting me into a coma. The rest of the girls showed mild discomfort much to my surprise. My suit saved me from being cooked alive.

Mercifully, the flame settled down after a brief second, turning into a tall but gentle blue flame. None of us knows what the flame contains. I tried to peer into the flame, but saw nothing in the end.

Suddenly the shaman clutched her eyes and screamed bloody murder! We sprang into action; Latina grabbed the shaman to stop her from rolling into the flame, her sisters and I then extinguished the flame with a combination of magic and a pot of water tossed by yours truly. And the door burst in with the same burly guards, just itching to skewer me with their long spears.

But before blood was spilled, the shaman held them back. Even in such pain, she was lucid enough to save our life from pointless bloodshed. She told us to be very fucking careful, because quote unquote, your path will leave you knee deep in the dead.

Her sisters wanted Latina to stay behind and leave me be. I was reluctant to let her go; she makes my travel a breeze and her local experience is invaluable to me. Which is why I respect her decision regardless of what will happen to me. Sure, there will be more walking and carriage-hopping, but I'll figure it out later.

I was surprised that she instead insisted that she wanted to accompany me beyond the sea, as she grows fond of me and my…antics. They were inconsolable, so Latina made a vow to her ancestors or whatever that when I start walking to my doom and she can't do jack shit about, she will high-tail it back home. Probably a religious thing, because they started to calm down afterward. Realising that nothing will sway her position, the shaman took a pendant from a little box at her shelf and gave it to us each. The pendant is simply a beautiful blue gemstone held on top of a wave-shaped silver mounting which was held by a string of silver. A flickering sensation of power wafted from the stone, a promise of protection against its corresponding element.

We agreed to spend the night here. Who knows how long before Latina ever met her family again after sailing?

The rest of the day went on a blur. One moment I was inside the tent, the next I found myself playing tag with a bunch of juvenile centaurs, the students of her sister from the nearby nursery. They were a precocious bunch, even when some of their…behaviours are less stellar than most. I blame the culture of semen-worship among Monster Girls.

Their primary drink was milk. It tasted sweet, with a hint of almond. I was puzzled at first when I didn't see a cow around, until one of Latina's bountiful sisters refilled my cup straight from the source.

I forgot that mare's milk existed.

Moving on from that disturbing revelation, I indulge myself upon their other cuisine. Monster girls or not, these girls know how to serve meat! I was amused at first seeing them put hot stones inside a pot of boiling water before putting in the meat, but I'll be damned if the taste wasn't heavenly! Who would've thought boiled mutton could've tasted this divine? I wasn't a fan of their pastries though, too sour for my taste. They were chiefly made from milk though, so that's a given.

We slept together in the same tent. It was surprisingly warm to contrast with the unbearable cold outside. Unfortunately, the scent of horse hide overpowers the sweet-smelling herbs they burned at their small fire pit. Fortunately for them, I've smelled worse. So we have no problem sleeping together.

All and all, not a bad experience. A nice break from my usual blood-soaked battlefield. Let's hope the sea is clear for tomorrow then.

New item received!
Water pendant:
A beautiful little pendant made from silver chain and a Water Stone. On its own, it's a pretty trinket. But with the guidance and rituals from a trained mage, its innate power can be drawn out and coerced to fulfil its potential.

Use this to protect the user from 75% of Water-based magic spells and attacks.