As I write this Hogarth and I sit in a small carriage (I pray to Anesthia Gerald doesn’t destroy this one) on our way to what Gerald calls a safe house. Anesthia only knows where that is, but hopefully its a safer than the hellhole from which we just escaped. Birkenmoor was a place of evil, but I’m tormented by the unholy way in which it was destroyed. Things couldn’t have turned out worse. For us. For the innocent people who lost their lives. I’m even sorry for the bastards we had to kill to get out of there; sorry it had to come to that. And on top of it we’ve all been named outlaws! I love Corneria, and I know there has to be a way for us to clear our names so we can keep fighting for our nation and our people. Right now though, I’m just glad that we all escaped with our lives. May the Raven Queen’s grace be with us. I have a feeling we’ll need it….