Retrieving The Box

Liora moved like a shadow, his steps silent as he navigated the cluttered space. Derrin followed close behind, his movements heavier but careful. They could hear voices now, faint and distorted, echoing from the upper floor. The sounds of laughter and muffled conversation drifted through the tannery, a stark contrast to the eerie stillness of the lower level.

At the base of a rickety staircase, they paused. Liora held up a hand, signaling for Derrin to stop. The wooden stairs creaked ominously with even the faintest weight, and the two exchanged a look. Liora motioned for Derrin to stay put and began his ascent, his dagger drawn and his steps as light as a whisper.

At the top of the stairs, the voices grew clearer.

"…Fenrick's trinket? Worthless junk," a gruff voice said, followed by a snort of laughter. "But he'll pay through the nose to get it back."