Private Tales The job of stopping evil

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
The questions that followed his one were good, Leyus approved each and every one of them. If they were to make this delivery, it was useful to get to know as much as they could, especially there didn't seem to be a neat pile of instructions stacked anywhere near here.
The last one, the one that Altheao asked, was an especially good one. How could they transport something if they didn't even know what it was? Leyus didn't have the habit of agreeing on trade if he didn't know what he was selling.

Or he did. If he got paid enough. Because as the tall-dark-and-dangerous adventurer spoke up again, Leyus understood, that it wasn't really that important what they were carrying, as long as they got paid enough for it. Right?

"I second that," he sneaked in with a short phrase after the other man had stopped talking, his eyes almost beaming. Two hundred thousand silver pieces. Oh the things he could do with that.
 
Quoril listened to his companions and the priests bantering back and forth impatiently. They now knew where to deliver the crate and how long they had to deliver it. So why were there still standing there?

He raised his eyebrows when Isaias spoke up. "You are holy men, clerics and paladins. What evil do you fear other than an evil you are vulnerable to? You cannot make this delivery yourself because this item can harm you even sealed as it is. Your sensitivity to the spiritual realm does not serve you with this item. It is then safe to assume that the item itself poses a threat to our safety." One-hundred thousand silver is not enough for our services. Double that or exchange it to gold, otherwise our services are wasted."

Quoril was shocked by what he was hearing. Surely whatever was in the box couldn’t be that dangerous...could it? He suddenly began to feel a touch anxious and less sure about their chances of success. "I agree with them. If you're really hiring us to undertake such a hazardous mission and put our lives on the line then one hundred thousand silver wont be enough."
 
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Father Jove was thoughtful for a long while before he motioned for one of the clerics to give him some paper. Without saying a word he wrote a letter, sealing it with wax before handing it across the table.
"Two hundred thousand silver for your services. Give this letter to Father Bertold to receive your reward. Is this satisfactory to guarantee safe delivery?"

Isaias didn't answer but turned to his companions, Altheao, Quoril, Corlis, Leyus, Rhiannon. It was their call now, they had to decide if the danger was worth it, and weigh the money against the odds that they'll live long enough to spend it, now with a better view of the picture.
 
"If you all take the job, I will as well." She offered with a smile. It was pointless for someone with little ability to fend for themselves to go on a job by themselves. Unless they were acting as bait anyway. Her gaze shifted to the others around her, gauging how hard her job was going to be in case of being assaulted.