A few days ago, I committed myself to gaining favour with the local Lossoth people who reside in a village called Kauppa-kohta. I am here in the cold north because I have been called with a number of our kin to assist in the tracking of a villain by the name of Zôrzagar. It is very likely that he fled further north, and we cannot pursue him further until the Lossoth allow us to travel that way. They are wary of outsiders, and it would be best if we prove ourselves to be trustworthy, rather than invade their land and incur the wrath of these good, simple folk.
Knowing this, I decided to contribute to the well-being of the local people by hunting some game for them, since that is the best way I know how. In my recent years growing up, I learnt how to hunt animals in the hills north of Nenuial, with some success; so I had assumed that I would have similar luck here. In some way, I ended up with both good and bad luck, as I will now explain.
Rising early in the morning, I left Kauppa-kohta and journeyed into a great woodland, west of the lake where the village sits. These woods were very similar to those back home, only much colder and full of more snow in this winter. I am no stranger to snow, so that alone was little problem. Warm clothes guarded my body from the vicious breeze, and a pair of sturdy gloves ensured that my fingers stayed where they belong. My worst mistake was going out to hunt alone, which I almost paid for with my life.
I was almost a full day's walk from the village, and the sun was beginning to set. Throughout the day, I had picked berries to eat and managed to kill two rabbits, which I hoped to give to the Lossoth. Still, I foolishly craved more, and soon managed to track down a mighty beast that could feed a whole village: a moose. After stalking the creature for a few minutes, it stopped to graze upon the leaves and twigs of a bush. There was my opportunity.
As silent as I could be, I crept into a position overlooking the moose's side, behind a tree and some bushes, giving me ample concealment and a clear shot at the creature. I readied my javelin, the only one I had used for the past five years, and launched it towards the moose. The javelin hit its mark, but it was in vain, since I was not the only one hunting this animal. All of a sudden, a party of men, likely 10 or 15 of them, emerged from behind a hill in front of me. These men wore the pelts of wolves on their heads, and painted their faces with blood. They were Gauredain.
They shouted amongst themselves in their unintelligible tongue, and a couple of them went to the moose that I had slain for them. The rest of their group began to howl and sprinted in my direction, as my javelin-throwing had given away my position. I had made a terrible mistake, coming to hunt alone, far from my kin, and I unwittingly gave a free meal to these villainous men. In this moment, I knew that I would become their prey too, if I did not make like a tree and leave.
I am embarrassed to say that I had no choice but to turn and flee for the hills, as quick as my legs could carry me. The group of Gauredain outnumbered me tenfold, and I was caught by surprise at their appearance. After a short while of running, one of them leaped forward and, by some bad fortune, managed to land a few paces in front of me. Up to this moment, my luck had failed due to bad decisions on my part, but I would quickly turn this ill chance to good.
The Gauradan who landed in front of me was alone, and slightly winded from his sprint. This opportunity would last only a few seconds, and I had to seize it to preserve my life. While still running at a tiring pace, I drew my sword and charged at the lone attacker. He tried to smack me with a great wooden club, but I was quicker, and in an instant I managed to strike him down. I do not wish to write any more detail than that, for it is seldom needed. I must admit, I look back upon all these blood-stained affairs with pain in my heart.
For a short moment, I felt some pity for the man I had struck down. I wonder what his name was, and why he was driven to this strange life of donning wolf pelts and living like a wild animal. However, I quickly remembered that the Gauredain commit much evil, and are a terror to good people in this land. The moment quickly passed, and many of that man's kin were hot on my tail, so I decided to take the wolf pelt off his shoulders and onto my own before swiftly fleeing.
The Gauredain are swift sprinters, but ill-suited to long runs, much like the beasts they imitate. I soon lost the rest of them in the woods, set up camp in a hidden, densely wooded area and returned to Kauppa-kohta the next morning. There, I offered the Gauradan-pelt that I had claimed to many Lossoth, who refused me, until a man called Santtu begrudgingly accepted the gift. "It can be fashioned into a cloak," he agreed with me.
In this venture, I unfortunately lost my javelin, some rabbits that I hunted earlier, and I almost lost my life; however, I gained the pelt of a Gauradan, a lesson in not hunting alone when possible, and hopefully a modicum of respect from the people of Kauppa-kohta.
