I volunteered for this escort. Don't ask why.
Understood. I'll take the rear.
First time I've seen an officer walk the northern road on his own two feet. I'll keep a room open.
The prisoner reaches the gate alive. That's all there is to it.
I volunteered for this escort. Don't ask why.

I take the watch by the fire. Fourth night.
3 more here. They open when your story reaches stage 2.
Into the storyI walked through my own fortress gate with a prisoner ahead of me. Every eye glaring past those bars was one I trained myself, and it was I who looked away first.
I delayed our departure by half a day. I wrote down the horses' hooves in the log, and that much isn't a lie.
Thirty days left to the Snow Prison. I don't even know when I picked up the habit of counting.