A new ally has joined us, a Skairn by the name of Ambrose who seems, despite the shock of our initial meeting being one of Laurelyth against his neck, to be fitting in nicely. During an evening walk we came across what initially seemed to be two muggers accosting an elven woman’s virtue but turned out to be a crime of irrational hatred, in the course of breaking up this scuffle I discovered Ambrose to be of some use in a fight (as well as of a like mind on many subjects).I grow ever more weary of the caenids. As we journeyed north, we were yet again ambushed by the dog-men, killing all but one whom I then had to interrogate. The language of the dog-men is rough, scratching the inside of my mouth almost as though it were brambles, and it seems that the only thing that matches their ferocity is their ignorance. After disclosing the location of his people’s camp and their numbers, I agreed not to kill him. The Sergeant however obviously had a different plan as I was sent to “scout ahead” with Ambrose and upon our return the prisoner’s corpse had been hastily laid beside those of the others. We arrived at Fort Thorn in fairly good spirits having both defeated our attackers and gained useful information from one of their leaders. The town’s joint garrison of Dale Wardens and Green Rangers from the Vales greeted us far more warmly as we were smart enough to immediately reveal the supplies that seem to be the most available currency of respect in these backwater towns (supplies and murder rather). The head of the town’s garrison was not hesitant to send us once again into battle with the dog men, and with my obligation to Laurelyth filled it is time that I meditate and prepare for tomorrows impending battle.