It is cold. The late fall wind is sharp up here. Leaves blow about on the ground and the evergreen trees whisper to me of danger. Snow is not far off.
I will sit here a moment longer, and continue to sharpen my greatsword. We will once again press on against these villainous giants. We are in their lair. I long to come to grips with them and end their threat to Harkenwold. We have slain many… I will make use of this blade soon.