"Bandits, Your Grace." One of the guards muttered. "All sorts of rabble make their way here from Restov — we d

"Bandits, Your Grace." One of the guards muttered. "All sorts of rabble make their way here from Restov — we don't get a moment's peace. The river and roads are crawling with their lot... Until we clear them out, we thought it best to patrol the tracts and the river. But we're not here to hold you up with that — we'll be happy to accompany you on your journey to Varnhold!"