The Council of Thieves

The Sewers

The party steps down into the murky sewers, their eyes adjusting to the slight gloom. The midday sun still casts light from far above, but it is a greying light, filtered down through the gutters high above. They are greeted by a horrifyingly rank odor: produced by the combined feces of the entire city in one place. The heroes are standing on a section of old stone flanking a river of sewage. As hoped, green growths cobweb and zigzag across the walls and ceilings, and sometimes even the floor. The scurrying of unseen rats echo back to them quietly from deeper in the sewer .

Janiven, still in the lead, starts walking down the wall, her hand running across the sewer wall at about shoulder height. Where the corridor widens into an intersection, Janiven stops suddenly and points to strange ornate arrow carved subtly into the wall. If she hadn't been looking for it, you probably wouldn't have even noticed it.

"Arael and I made these marks a few months ago when we explored the sewers," Janiven explains, "We marked all the intersections so our people could find their way through the sewers to our hide out. Follow the marks, I must go on ahead and take a different route, I need to make your presence known to several of our compatriots."

She turns away, and vanishes into the sewers, obscured by a fog of acrid fumes that seems to permeate the entire area.

By this time, Lilly has lain down across the Dhampir's shoulders, wrapping around him slightly like a scarf. Donaven pulls the edges his cloak to his face to protect his mouth and nose from the assault of the vapors, simultaneously mumbling something impolite it about the weight on his shoulders. Lilly's padded paw smacks playfully into the side of head.

"Well that was sudden," Kragri remarks and fixes Akemon with her intense amber gaze, "Do you want to lead, or should I?"

Akemon surveys the sewer, shrouded in the cloying vapor, his hands fiddling with his armor.

" I will. I sure hope there aren't any traps down here..."

Kragri gives Akemon a double take, "This is a sewer. Who in their right mind traps a sewer? What you trapping, rats?!"

"Depends on what you're hiding down here." Caramere replies. The small halfling's voice echoes around the enclosed space. On that cheery note, the group advances into the fragrant mist without another word.

Lilly, still in fox form, watches from Donaven's shoulders, her sensitive canine nose wrinkled against the putrid stench but on alert for any possible danger. Kragri unstraps her long-handled hammer, while Akemon forages slightly ahead, his armored scale boots clanking on the floor of the sewer. The ragtag collections of strangers make their way deeper into the slime-coated stone tunnels, and minutes pass, as they advance further into the filthy labyrinth. Without Janiva, the filmy shifting clouds and the gurgle of the crawl of the sewage combines into an atmosphere of eerie silence interrupted only by the clinking of the armor, the creeping passage of the river of waste and the small sounds of distant movement in the sewers. Even Caramere has swapped his notebook for his readied crossbow. The only member unperturbed by the event is Russel who is still swimming contently in his personal haze of alcohol. Still, it's pretty apparent that something is not quite right here.

As the adventurers venture onward they pause only to spot and follow the small arrows etched in the stone and left by Janiven and Arael on their previous ventures. By this time, the keen eyes of many of the party have adjusted and they busy themselves watching out for any sudden movement. Every one of them can feel it as a prickling, crawly feeling at the base of their skulls, whispering quietly. We're not alone down here. As if on cue, a fat rat skitters by on the other side of the stream of putrid sludge.

After following the latest arrow several yards, Donovan quietly pushes to the front of the column of adventurers.

"Halt." He murmurs, and his low voice carries to all of them. He points to a set of sloppily engraved letters on the wall that no one else had spotted yet. "Can anyone read this?" The party gathers around, and before anyone else can answer, Caramere pipes up. "It's a rudimentary goblinish sign. Looks almost as if it was carved in by a crude stick or other implement. It translates roughly to common as Nasties Ahead."