Editing Stranded in fantasy (section)

===Journal Entry 137===

It's been a few days. I have been sent out with a raiding party of about 30 mercenaries, mostly human. We're sacking a trade caravan heading in from Kinild by land. I almost feel like a bandit. We're camped out off the side of the road under heavy brush, snow, in ditch and waiting. It's pretty boring. A few of the guys are light sleepers and taking a nap, even though it's bleeding cold out. The rest of us are keeping ourselves entertained with war stories while watching the road. We have a few two man patrols making sure no one is sneaking up on us. No idea how big this caravan is, or even what it's carrying, just that there is one. One of the mercs has some heating stone, stays a new warm temperature he's been using to keep his hands warm. I gotta get me one of those. My Terran compatriots are back at camp. They're learning to ride horses. I feel all left out. It's kind of funny. Our big plan was to get to Rosenbridge and free our friends and they aren't even there anymore. Alex would have just missed us, Avery's gone native. The others are who knows where and probably in a bad situation, as they were slaves last Avery heard. I guess the next goal after this war is the Wildlake slave pens and then where ever they've gone. I'll be pissed if they got sent to Winterfield or Aeyllin. Running in fucking circles.