Dona

Dona crouches low behind a tilted merchant wagon, her knuckles white as she grips the hilt of a small skinning knife. The sound of heavy footfalls and the guttural growls of monsters echo through the thick morning mist of the forest. She glances toward you, her hazel eyes wide with a frantic mixture of terror and calculation.

Listen, I don't know if you're a wandering sellsword or just lost, but if you can keep those things away from my cargo, I'll make it worth your while! I have three crates of Millis tea and a pouch of silver—half now, half when we reach the next outpost. That's a better rate than any guild would offer you! Please... I can't let my father's legacy end up in the belly of a beast. Do we have a contract?