Another entry from the journal of Vasyr Zietsev, a Kossite Ranger that has recently found gainful employment. Again, the text is Vasyr’s not my own. Perhaps he can shed some light as to what a “liege of Winterguard” consists of? “A bit of frostbite” may be an understatement, as one member of his party was brought to unconciousness by the Khador’s winter on the first day of the blizzard. More entries will be posted as they are made available to me.

On the road ahead I scout the way as the others slog with the carts.
Volden was kind enough to sell me an alchemical healing tonic at cost as
we hit the road – to help with injuries suffered before his employ.

Traveling has been boring to this point. We stopped in a small village
for the night, breakfast was ok – and Klar managed to roll a waitress.

A day out of the village some ugly brigands tried to fell our caravan.
Luckily I had seen them before they had attacked and we were able to
ride through them with only myself having suffered a serious injury. There was a
man I had recognized from a few towns back that Fyodor and seen casing
our party. I almost felled him with one shot, but his Khardic blood was
strong. The leader of this villainy got a lucky shot off on me, and
that breath was almost my last. Volden’s potion came in handy indeed.
It is good that they were not bright enough to set a proper ambush.

A few days travel got us to the next town. While my friends watched
over the goods and carts, I took it upon myself to watch guard over our
patrons. I slept the night in the warm hotel, as my friends shivered in
the cold – keeping watch of the caravan. Apparently that night my good
friend Alric made some “headway” with Tatyana – I doubt Volden’s
response will be generous, though his blunderbuss’s response maybe much too great for Alric’s soft hide.

The autumn rains are upon us once again, the traveling is not too slow.
On the 8th night since our travels began flying beasts came upon Klar
and myself as we kept watch. A huge bat with a long tail attacked us.
Klar felled it with a single stroke of his long sword; two more came
from the sky, as I called the group to arms. My ‘ivanov’ bit deeply and
felled one, Klar and I combined strokes to fell the last as it flew
past. Fyodor identified the winged creatures as Razorbats – and that
the razorbarbs on their tails, which they had tried to slash us with, could be
fashioned into damaging arrowheads.

We ran into a liege of Winterguard on the road. The fighting 327th, or
the pissing 327th as they call themselves – the story was left untold.
They seemed to be unconcerned about my tales of brigandry upon the road
between Ohk and Falconbridge. They mentioned a Necromancer in the area
they were on the look out for. Klar tells tales of Necromancers
fornicating with dead people – I know nothing of these disgusting figures,
and wish to learn nothing new about them.

It has been days since my hands have been able to hold a pen. Winter
has hit us with full furry. I did my best to help my party of friends
get through the weather, but should have been paying more attention to
myself – as I am now suffering with bit of frostbite. I am usually able to help
find a good spot for our caravan to weather the nights.

The road is hard – I will write again, once my hands can catch warmth.