The Journals of J.W. the Lonesome Ranger

[As discovered on the bottom shelf of the last repository in the 18th stack on the 7th floor of the Historian's Guild Library, by the scholar Lum the Obsessively Tidy in the common year 1327].

Day 1
I just don't understand people.

I had to head south, and I had to head south now, even in the dead of winter. I was comfortable in the woods I've called home for all these years, but food was getting scarcer than even deep winter would normally bring. You could feel it if you paid attention: whatever calamity destroyed the regions to the north was beginning to seep through the mountains and affect my homeland. Game was either leaving, or dying, and I felt the land was dying as well. It could be my imagination, or it could be some malevolence, but I made up my mind. Today I head south: for food, for safety, and perhaps, just perhaps, it was time I rejoined the world of the civilized. I am not a beast, after all. I'm a man, and men have ... needs.

After today's events, I wonder if life as a beast would be better. No sooner had I headed down the road than I found the road blocked, obviously blocked by creatures with nefarious purposes. Not having much choice, I took the detour, where I encountered, of all things, a halfling. I hate halflings: they're so bubbly and friendly. They always like to chit-chat and tell tales and play games and have parties and all those things I am not good at. This halfling was particularly annoying. He was asking all these questions, engaging in "small talk". I did what I normally do in social situations: tried my best not to sound like a giant elk kicked me in the head. I just don't do small talk, I'd rather dig through bear scat looking for undigested berries to eat. I shouldn't be so mean: he did share his rabbit dinner (if there's one nice thing I can say about halflings, they are GREAT cooks). So I guess he's not a bad chap after all, he's just ... friendly.

Thankfully another traveller, a dwarf, came through and broke up the discomfort. A cleric by the looks of him, he must have encountered the same barrier on the road I did. He approached the halfling's camp -- and was set upon by some bandits. Mangy scum, those bandits. They must have set that road block, hoping to lure folks into a trap. I don't get bandits like this, with their lame tactics. Yeah, they could lure people into a trap, but for what? A handful of coppers? People in these parts are poor, or they're heavily armed. Doing this type of banditry can't pay well, they'd be better off learning how to feed themselves instead of robbing the poor for coppers.

It was still a dicey encounter. Bandits, especially stupid bandits, can be arrogant and difficult. Many are just looking for a fight, and will gladly leave the coppers in the snow if it means they can thump some peasants into submission. Well, I have to admit, I was egging for a fight, too (I get that way when I have to engage in small talk). I wanted to put an arrow right through the skull of the lead bandit, he was an oafish brute. But the dwarf wanted ... to talk! Of all things, he wanted to parley! And negotiate passage! Clerics, sheesh! I wasn't sure it would work, I was ready for it to fall apart. I was ready to put an arrow right between the oafish bandit's eyes.

And then, something else surprising happened. That halfling got the drop on them! He managed to sneak around behind them, and surprise them! That's quite outstanding: it was very cold, meaning the brush is brittle, and very noisy. Yet without the crack of a twig, that halfling got the drop on those bandits! Surprised them, too. But here's what's surprising: he didn't knife them in the kidneys, he talked to them! And then ... and this is the most surprising part ... they actually ran away! I think the cleric had something to do with it, he seemed to cast some spell I couldn't make out, but these two -- the dwarf and the halfling -- managed to get us all out what could have been a dicey situation by talking! I am still flabbergasted writing this down.

Unfortunately, we were then surprised ourselves when a wolf -- obviously hungry during these winter months -- stole the halfling's dinner, and with it the halfling's tent and many of his belongings. Ugh, what a horrible turn of events. Sadly, it was too late for us to give chase, we'd only get lost in the dark of night and end up freezing to death. I promised to help track that wolf in the morning and find his stuff. The three of us are now camping in the open air, close to the fire. The dwarf and halfling are sleeping. I will, too, after my watch is up. I only hope we actually wake up and don't fall prey to winter's wrath.

Day 2
I just don't understand people.

We survived the night, that's one good thing. In these parts in the winter, that's nearly a miracle by itself. I almost thought we wouldn't survive the day, either.

It started with the tracking. I don't know what happened … I lost the wolf's trail. I am so pissed at myself. I think it's my own arrogance: I've been so used to knowing the ins & outs of my own little patch of woods, I fell back on my old habits instead of simply paying attention. I have to be more on my toes from here on out. I can't be lazy, I'm in a new world now. I wish I had more time to scour these woodlands, figure out their inner workings. I'd find that wolf AND get Adric (the halfling I mentioned yesterday) his stuff back. As it was, I lost the trail. AND nearly killed the dwarf in the process. I like that dwarf (his name is Mag-something,  I really suck at remembering names). He seems like a good soul, and doesn't talk too much. But I kept pushing us through the snow, going way too far out of our way, and the combination of short legs and heavy armor almost did him in. I should have realized, I hope he doesn't hold it against me.

Fortunately, we made it back to the road, and easier travel. We needed to find a town, a hamlet, a farmhouse, a lean-to, anything to rest in. But then it happened: we encountered ... her. Up ahead, there she was: an elf, wearing a long leather overcoat, being chased by three wolves. What in the world was she doing out here, all alone, being chased by wolves? Wolves are very dangerous in winter: food is scarce and they'll eat anything they can take down. Then I understood: as soon as I spotted her, she wove her hands around and balls of light came out of her fingertips and hit two of the beasts. The elf was a caster! I never saw a caster before, much less an elf. I only knew of them from stories my mum told me when I was a lad, and yet here she was! That's why she was all alone: she could actually defend herself.

I still wanted to help: she was one against three, and those lights looked more like distractions than weapons. So I shouted out to my traveling companions, nocked an arrow, and shot the third beast in the neck. I then ran over to the girl to help her fight the wolves. Oblivious to my presence, she waved her hands around, said some more words I didn't understand, and I was suddenly punched in the gut by some invisible force and thrown back ten feet. It hurt like ruddy hell! I've been bitten by coyotes and fell off a cliff, but nothing ever hurt so bad as that. I tell you what: I'll never get that close to a threatened wizard again! They can be downright dangerous …

Even with my wounds, I managed to kill off two of the wolves. The mage-elf wounded the second pretty badly by the time I shot the fatal arrow, and managed to kill off the third one somehow, I'm not really sure. Fortunately, we were able to stop and rest for a bit. That elf, she was a weird bird. Kept going on about her leather coat, and being unconscious, and being an exiled noble, or maybe being adopted by druids. I don't know, I was having a hard time following it all. I was spending more energy wondering if my spleen was ruptured …

After we rested for a bit, she moved on to do whatever it was she was doing in the first place. My companions strangely decided to hack some meat off the wolves (I'd rather eat bark myself), and we headed back down the road. Eventually we found a small farming village. Inside the town's only tavern, oddly enough, were the three men who tried to extract a toll from us yesterday! Oh, this did not please my companions one bit. When Mag threw down a wad of wolf meat on their table, I thought for sure there'd be a fight. As it was, the innkeeper had to throw us out thanks to Adric-instigated bickering amongst the townsfolk.

Ugh, barely a supper, we're camped out in a flea-ridden barn, in a village full of people who already hate our guts. At least there's a roof over our heads.

Day 3
I just don't understand people.

We left the ramshackle hut as early as we could, grabbing breakfast before the crowd came in (and the dwarf and halfling could cause more trouble). We headed down the road, hoping to find a real town where Adric could replenish is lost supplies. A few hours down the road, however, we ran into an armored warrior, dazed and confused. Seems like he bumbled into a crude log trap, knocked himself unconscious. He had trouble remembering who he even was, that log must've knocked him for a loop.

When he regained his composure, he realized someone stole his horse. So we were off again into the woods, to see if we can find him. Fortunately for me, the trail was easier, so off we set. Didn't find the horse, though, instead we came across a big, surly fellow, and this is where it got ugly. This fellow was clearly hiding something, and didn't like us poking around one bit. While the warrior (a paladin named Leor) and I were talking to this unpleasant chap, Adric ran into a young man (a boy, really), an apparent escapee from the bandits. According to the boy (Eric), these bandits were using them as forced labor, doing who-knows-what. This revelation didn't please any of us, you just don't do that to children. Leor was none to pleased, and proceeded to beat one of those bandits to death with his fists!! Wow, TOTALLY made me rethink what I've ever thought about paladins! We ended up fighting many bandits today, and killed far too many for my taste. But using kids for slave labor … that's just wrong.

The whole thing stinks to high heaven. What are these bandits up to? What are they doing in these woods? Why would they tell us "it's dangerous, we're working with poison?" What an odd lie, and an even odder truth. We decided to try to find & spy on the bandit camp, see what's up. This is where everything turned sour. Eric -- who I'm rapidly beginning to loath -- told us of a secret path. So I took it. It was a narrow trail just below the high ridge line. I'm sure-of-foot, but that damned fool kid followed me too closely and too sloppily, and he slid down the slope … and right into a snow spider's nest. So Leor had to lower me down on a rope to rescue the damned fool before he got himself eaten. We almost lost Mag, too (and here I thought dwarves knew their way around mountain trails). After that whole bag-of-madness, we called off the whole raid on the bandit camp. This kid would just get us all killed.

So we headed back to Happy Happy Fun Town, to a barkeep that can't stand us, and a townsfolk who don't trust us. Fortunately my compadres didn't pick fights this time, maybe it was the influence of the paladin. So here I sit, back in these tick-laden cabins, with a grumpy paladin who lost his horse, and a kid who won't leave him alone. This trip is proving not to be much of a trip at all.