We just finished hunting down the mercenaries for the Three Hand Gang... Found a dead merchant, Heinrich Voegel... He was driving his wagon "Tonka's Tinkering. Fixer of toys, tools and teeth." We took the mail and turned it into the Rooks so they could let his next of kin know... We buried all of them... I wonder if he had family? If they were worried about him never returning? It... it reminds me of my uncle Arne... he took me out to teach me fishing and... we never came home. I wonder if Brana forgives me? Or herself... I know she took it hard, so when my paternal uncles swept in... She was not in any shape or form to stop him.
(There are sketches of the battlefield, of the dead man's face and his name written in common. The rest of this journal is writen in Drudic).