Found meself in some dark piss-smelling warehouse under Sylvan’s biggest manor. Me, Gerhard, and a few others waitin’ on a job we barely heard of this mornin’. Pay’s supposed to be decent. Still smells like a trap.

Then in bounce two Harengons—aye, rabbit folk. Barely ever see one, now two show up like it’s a bloody joke. They didn’t even know each other. Called themselves Rio and Hop. Hells, what’s next? A goblin noble?

Hop starts yappin’ right away—says we’re just escortin’ a carriage to the docks, but says every sewer-rat and cutthroat’s gonna want what’s inside. Great. Always somethin’.

While we’re jawin’, more groups start leavin’ with their wagons. That’s when we spot another crew of five mercs across the floor, and there’s only one load left. Thought we were gettin’ swindled. Felt it in me beard.

Adjutant finally shows his smug face and waves them off with the last carriage. I nearly snapped. Whole crew mutterin’, fists clenchin’.

Then—creak—some door behind us opens. Out rolls a different kind of carriage. Fancier than a king’s privy. Big, sealed up tight, no windows, no peek inside. Two horses that looked like they shat gold. Still… something felt off.

Adjutant tells us that’s ours. No explanation. Bastard.

We form up and roll out. Streets are dark. Tense. Not a minute out and there’s a damn burning wagon blockin’ the road. Course. Adjutant yells for us to clear it—says the fancy box won’t stop.

While we’re scannin’ the mess—THUNK! Crossbow bolt smacks the carriage. That’s it. We charge.

Bandits behind the flames. Blade work gets messy. Arcane flashes and roars. Took down the lot, one by one. Some rich-lookin’ shadow bastard tries to get clever from the alley. Didn’t last long.

Rio takes a bad hit near the end—trips in the smoke, stabs himself in the leg like a fool, but finishes the last one anyway. Tougher than he looks, I’ll give him that.

Caught up to the wagon. Still rollin’. Adjutant screamin’ for backup now—guess things are hot near the docks. Can’t wait to see what fresh pile of shite we step in next.

If I die, tell whoever finds this: it wasn’t worth the bloody coin.