2nd of Kythorn, 1492

I awoke to the sound of the strong-room lock scraping against its latch, and as the heavy, chinkless door opened, I turned myself invisible before Bog Luck walked in. He took in the view of the half-emptied storeroom, and noted the absence of the cultists’ crates with obvious satisfaction. As I squeezed invisibly out the door past the orc-blooded oaf, I heard him mutter to himself that “lizardfolk do good work,” incontestably confirming that the superintendent was in on the scheme.

I rejoined my companions, and recounted what I had seen and heard. Together, we quickly searched Bog Luck’s room, but found nothing of note, so we made our way back downstairs to head for the tunnel. As we made our way through the courtyard, we saw the carts being repacked with cargo. In place of the missing loot, the usually sullen cultists were packing roadwork supplies into their carts with smugly pleased looks on their idiot faces. Evidently, they thought their plan was working like Neverwintian water-clockwork.

Though I insisted we should go after the loot without delay, there was some debate about perhaps continuing to follow the cultists. I have agreed to stay one more night, so that I might get a proper rest, and one way or another, we will head out tomorrow.

Mighty Maid of Misfortune, I beseech you for guidance in these trying times. Let your capricious hand lead me down the path of fate, and grant me the wisdom to interpret the signs that you send. Show me the way to navigate the treacherous waters of chance and circumstance, that I may find my footing amidst the chaos. I trust in your wisdom and power, O Lady Doom, and I offer unto you my unwavering devotion and gratitude for your constant vigilance, klaatu barada nikto amen.

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