To my Honored Masters,
May the Grace of our Ancestors shine upon you,

The situation worsens, some of my dubious comrades have left the group for ends that only they see the profit of, the weather is foul, and the toll-keepers of this Ancestor-forsaken Realm are uniformed Highway Robbers, lucky for them we had amuelets that granted our safe passage, else they would have felt my blades upon their necks and that would have been the last thing they felt in this world. Nevertheless we continue our meandering approach toward our destination. We have been twice set upon by hedgerobbers and slavers, their lack of skill was disappointing. The last such encounter is of note. The slavers only captive, a fierce Orc of somewhat middle years was freed and joined our party. I do not fully trust him, he does not act like one of his kind that I have ever seen. He claims to be an exiled Chieftian seeking to regain his honor after being framed for a crime he did not commit, He has much pent up anger regarding this matter, this makes him unstable.
Currently we are weathering out a blizzard in the town of Bluffside, the overt threats seem to have subsided for the moment, however wisdom tells me that once overt threats abate, covert ones will arise in their place.