Bernard was certain first contact with an aboriginal tribe deep in the Amazon could have gone better than it had so far. The only good thing was that they understood each other. He had been more than a little surprised when, in nearly unaccented English, the native issued his demands. "Stop right where you are white devil! Turn around and leave the People's land!"

Judging from the lack of synchronization between the man's mouth and the words he was hearing it was apparent that there were some automatic translation shenanigans going on. It would make certain things a bit tricky, like the tribe name, since most primitive civilizations' names invariably translated to 'the people' or some variation of it. Still, any ability to communicate was better than nothing. He would take possibly-inaccurate translations over literally not understanding a word someone said any day.

"Okay, we stopped! We can't leave though! We don't know where we are!" Keeping his voice calm and relaxed. He was generally pretty good with people, hence the attempt at getting a management position, and one of the tricks he had picked up was how people tended to match each other's energy. If he was calm and unthreatening, eventually the native should calm down a bit and talk with them.

Provided he didn't just shoot them. Bernard was pretty sure his armor could take the hit, but would prefer not finding out. He really hoped this guy wasn't the type to go off the handle for absolutely no reason. The jungle didn't have Karens, did it?

When He spoke, the man had tensed, then relaxed his bowstring considerably, before snapping back to a full draw aimed at Henry. "I apologize for any offense offered, Tree Spirit. The white devils wear odd things sometimes, I thought you were one of them. Why do you travel with one?"

Bernard glanced over to Henry, who was remarkably calm and quiet all things considered. "I think there's been a misunderstanding, I'm not a tree spirit, and we're not devils, we're just people. People that are lost and trying to find our way home."

"White devils aren't people, all they do is destroy and take." He tilted his head slightly. "You must be a spirit, you speak the People's Tongue. None but the People and the Spirits know the Tongue."

Bernard nodded. "True, but I'm not speaking the same language as you. If you lower your bow I can remove my helmet and prove it to you?" It was a risk to show his face, and he could probably have gotten quite a bit from them if he played along with the spirit thing, but lying about something like that would doubtlessly blow up in his face later.

The man complied, clearly not believing that he wasn't a tree spirit and unwilling to disobey him. Bernard willed his helmet to open, and the native man tensed when he saw Bernard's face. "Hey, it's alright, we don't want to hurt anyone or take anything. We're just trying to find our way home."

"Yea, the wood guy here is supposed to protect the forest, not destroy it." Henry piped up finally.

Bernard winced slightly when the native man reared back in shock, his eyes going wide. "How do you speak the Tongue?!" The man's arms jerked upward slightly as he fought to keep his weapon down.

"We don't," Bernard began calmly. "I think Aegis is translating. You've heard the voices, right?" Moment of truth time. He thought wryly. As though my hallucinations couldn't be of people having the same hallucination as me.

The bow dropped to the ground. "You are Messengers?!" He fell to his knees. "I apologize for threatening you! Please take your anger out on me and me alone!"

"Oh, son of a- look, we're not spirits or gods, or messengers of gods, or anything special-"

"I don't know, you're pretty special." Henry cut in with a grin.

"Can it twerp, you're not helping. Look, we just want directions and maybe a place to stay and rest for a bit, alright? No smiting, no violence, no gods or spirits, just people making friends and helping each other." Bernard walked over and lifted the man back to his feet.

"This… I must take you back to see the shaman. I cannot speak for the tribe."

"That's fine, let's go talk to him. I'm sure we can come to some sort of…" He trailed off as an intense wave of revulsion washed over him. "Abomination!" He growled. "This way!" He darted past the man, Henry sprinting after him. He didn't see if the man followed them or not. There was something vile in his forest. Arboreal Stride proved its worth a hundred times over as he effortlessly flowed through the woods in his headlong rush.

It only took him a few minutes to reach the area and he froze in his tracks when he laid eyes on the monster. It was only about mid-thigh in height, but that was small consolation when you factored in its fifteen-to-twenty foot length. And the legs. Countless legs. He shivered in revulsion, studying the monster before engaging longer than he ever managed before. There had always been little to no time for that, with him either getting attacked, or forced to engage right away.

Which is why he was so surprised to see a tag appear over the monster.

Voidling, level eleven.

He swore under his breath, grateful it hadn't noticed him yet. That thing was death incarnate as far as he was concerned. More than double his level, armor plated, and literally made out of pure nightmare. He was surprised to find that the compulsion that drove him to this spot had faded to the point where he instinctively knew he could leave. The forest brought him here, but when he decided there was nothing he could do about the problem it was willing to let him retreat.

He would likely still be aware of the monstrosity's location and presence, but he didn't have to fight something he was sure would kill him. It wasn't that big of a relief though, since he would probably be doomed when he was compelled to investigate something with more situational awareness than a massive centipede.

He started to retreat. "Oh, you stupid sons of-" His swearing was considerably louder this time, triggered by a series of arrows and darts pinging off the bugs natural armor. Battle cries erupted from the natives, screams of pure noise and shouts of 'kill the demon!' filling the air. A couple arrows managed to stick between plates of chitin, but did nothing to slow the voidling as it swarmed over alarmingly fast and began mauling one of the men that had shot at it.

Bernard really, really wished he had a better word for the way it moved, since by definition a single thing can't swarm, but the dozens of legs zig-zagging back and forth the way it had… swarmed was all he had. The legs punched through flesh with ease, and the man's screams were quickly muffled as it latched its maw onto him.

"Yeah, he's dead." Bernard muttered. "This is stupid. I should leave." He grimaced as he ran at the monster, swinging his thistle at a leg joint. He hoped his poisoned weapon would both penetrate and have an effect on the huge insect.

"You're insane!" He heard from behind him as Henry caught up. It turned out he moved faster through the woods than the fledgling monk did when he put his mind to it.

"Probably!" Bernard called back as his blow landed. He reared back for another swing, but the massive centipede dropped the man it had been chewing on, swung around and lunged at him. "Oh hell no. That is seriously messed up!" It was bad enough that he was fighting a giant insect that was over twice his level, the fact that it had a lamprey mouth instead of the normal bug-parts was so much worse. Four big black spiked limbs raked at the air around the gaping maw as it descended, already trying to force him down its gullet.

The gullet lined with teeth that were rotating in its mouth like a chainsaw. He did his best to scramble backwards, jabbing it in the face with his thistle as he did. It screeched, a sound that sent a chill down his spine, and reared up, towering over him. Arrows continued to pelt it, but whacking it on the butt and booping it in the face with a spiky poison stick was evidently something far more offensive to the abomination as it completely ignored everything but him.

It slammed its torso down on him, knocking him flat on his back, its spear-like legs slamming down all around him. One of them sank into a soft spot in his armor at the top of his thigh and dug deep, eliciting a scream of pain from him. It quickly became the least of his problems as the thing twisted around itself and sank those black spikes into him. Three of them skittered off his armor, leaving ominous streaks of goo in their wake. The fourth sank into his armpit. It wasn't particularly deep, but he felt something get injected right before white hot agony washed through him.

By that point thorns had erupted from virtually every part of his armor and, while he was busy convulsing from the venom pumping through him, they prevented him from getting all that deep in the thing's nightmare maw.

He wasn't particularly aware of what was going on for the rest of the fight. There were flashes here and there, images of Henry standing on the thing's head as it tried to eat him, raining blow after blow down on it, and arrows and spears hitting it elsewhere. It wasn't until he felt the tingle of Henry's healing ki that he returned to relatively full awareness.

"Bernard! Are you alright?! Bernard!" Henry was in a full on panic, shouting and shaking him.

Bernard coughed and rolled onto his hands and knees. A violently foul odor hit him, and his stomach revolted. Well, it tried to revolt. Turns out it had already done so at least once while he was out of it. Once the dry heaves eased he gasped out a reply. "No, I'm not alright. I'm horrible. I threw up in my helmet." It slid open, allowing a nasty stream of gunk to flow out of it. Greenish gray goo practically coated him, and he was certain he didn't want to know what it was.

"Okay, lesson learned." He said after a minute. "Don't fight giant bugs if you don't have to. Also, venom sucks." At the alarmed look on Henry's face he realized how something venomous or poisonous would be a trigger. "Don't worry, I have poison resistance, I think it was just the sheer amount I got hit with that let it affect me. It's already run its course." He was lying of course, the left side of his chest felt like it had been dipped in molten steel.

He just wasn't about to let the kid know, since he was pretty sure it was fading. He wasn't twitching on the ground anymore after all.

Congratulations! Your group has slain a level eleven voidling!

Congratulations! You have earned enough energy to advance to level six! Would you like to advance now?

The presence of the natives kind of put the whole leveling thing on hold for now. The men in question were now approaching them slowly. "Curupira, thank you for helping us." They were deferential and he groaned. This was definitely another spirit or god thing.