Return to the caravan.

Exhausted and wanting to sleep, you finally arrive back at the convoy of wagons and carriages. The fires have been put out and only a few people remain awake, but those that do look to you curiously as you return restraining one of the other mercenaries, and there is no Patricia to be seen. It's an odd sight for them to behold, and you didn't really think about how to explain yourself.

"What's going on?" a man asks as he approaches your group.

"This scumbag just wanted Patricia for himself. She was trying to get away from him," Niki replies as she squeezes her grip.

Tony curses. "These assholes grabbed me. They left Patty behind!"

The man crosses his arms. "Is this true? You left her?"

"She didn't want to come back. She left on purpose," you explain. "She's happier now."

There's a long silence. Though it is the word of you and four others against his, there's no way to be sure you aren't all lying. Still, as strange as the story is, nobody is calling you out. Those that are awake, and those that are awakening to the noise, aren't saying anything yet.

A young woman speaks up. "Actually, Patty was always uncomfortable around him," she speaks up quietly. "He makes me uncomfortable too. I think they're telling the truth."

Sitting on the edge of the nearest wagon is a dwarf. "I never trusted the man," he chimes in.

Distracted, Niki loosens her grip just enough for him to yank free. He bolts forwards in a blind rage towards the nearest merchant, unarmed but aggressive. He's clearly about to attack. Though before he can. Alice jumps in. She slams her body against the side of his, sending him flying to the ground several feet away. A cyan glow shines in her eyes as he gazes up at the looming lights staring down at him from the darkness of the night.

Finally realizing he's both caught and outnumbered, he pulls himself up and runs off into the distance.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

The man speaking early steps up to you with his hand out to shake. You accept. "We appreciate what you've done," she says.

"It's no problem, I guess. I just wanna sleep," you reply.

He chuckles. "At least allow me to offer my thanks. For all I know, he could have slit our throats in the night. It's nothing spectacular, but I carry with me a certain something from home, and perhaps you'll be able to find value in it as well."

Maybe it's some family jewels. "I suppose I can accept."

From his bag, he retrieves a small pouch and hands it over. It has a bit of weight to it. You eagerly accept your reward.

Slowly, you pull open the strings and gaze inside. A nasty scent burns your nose, and it seems to be filled with some kind of dark goo. "Uh. Is this mud?" you ask.

"It's sludge from the swamp I grew up near. Take good care of it, friend. Sleep well."

You squint your eyes down at your treasure and slowly close the pouch. "Thanks," you reply under your breath.

I just wanna sleep.