Quest Those Who Walk Below

Szesh's flame had harmed, or at least stunned, the beast long enough to allow a killing blow. As his eyes adjusted back to their unnatural dark-sight, he accepted the drow queen's curt acknowledgement, though felt a small pang at admonishment about noise. As if they had been given a choice.

Szesh initially wrinkled his nose at the idea of eating the grotesque creature. He was far from picky, but everything down here was so unnatural to him. Nevertheless, as he saw he others carve their meals from it, and as he breathed in more and more of the charred aroma of the creature, the idea seemed less repulsive.

He tore a hunk of disturbingly soft meat from an area where the exoskeleton had been carved away, tearing a piece off with large teeth. It fell apart in his mouth too easily... but was not completely unpleasant.

Szesh initially tensed at their newcomer's arrival, tightening his grip on his axe. Once it was clear that the queen had accepted their presence, though, he relaxed a touch. He did not liking being so in the dark, both literally and culturally, but he reminded himself that despite their previous missions, he was here as a hired blade. He wasn't here to think.

The warmth of the springs was welcome. Within minutes, a fine dew had muted the shine of his scales. Though he shuddered to think what would live underwater down here, he did wish to remove the worm's blood and viscera from his body.

The petite drow nodded at Zathria's comment, continuing through the narrow, not terribly tall passage, seemingly carved by the hot spring outflow. It opened into hollows of various size and shape connected by relatively constricted apertures, sometimes requiring stepping up and through. Amid one of the hollows, ‘Vernutar’ abruptly sidled away from the main path, which here veered upward toward the direction of the main gates. There was a faint splishing of her boots as she began following the current outflow streambed itself instead, ducking slightly below an outcropping, her hand reappearing and beckoning them to follow.

This new streambed path dipped first sharply downward and somewhat away, before steadily curving back cityward. The water was still quite hot here; the stuffy, humid path smelled sweet with dissolved minerals and also faintly sulfurous. After an initial pinched section barely large enough for the taller folks to squeeze through, the erosion cavern accompanying the stream mercifully broadened for a while. Once they had passed far out of earshot of the tunnel they had forked off from, she turned, speaking crisply in a low, barely audible voice as she started unpacking her satchel, pulling on and pinning an oversized ragged hooded cloak, and taking out a couple slender torches and an oilskin.

"Down a gentle rapid just ahead, this stream runs into a cavernous cavefisher nest directly below the heart of the city - the 'sewer' your mercenary astutely predicted, though the pests keep the cavern surprisingly tidy, and the fouled waters run largely downstream and away from our destination. The middens of the upper city all empty here, and I have had occasion enough to learn which chutes are which in the pursuit of my occupation. The pests are well fed and lazy from their advantaged situation; I find that the mere threat of fire suffices to keep them at bay. Have you perchance brought torches for your retainers? I have brought two, and a flask of cheap bluecap oil to mask the torch-smoke to smell like lower city cook-fires. All must stay close together in the nest; the pests may grow bold enough to attack if anyone wanders alone without a torch. When we reach the paths upward, I suggest the larger folk stay below with the torches while the slenderer ascend to our various errands. O Valsharess: I must dare to ask your destination within Zar'Ahal, that I may guide you up the correct chute."

Zathria paused at the hot springs with the rest of the group, scrubbing free some of the gore from her own skin before taking up position to keep watch as they prepared to progress. Not only on the outside but on the rest of the group as well.

They were a strange amalgamation of different backgrounds and paths that led here, and for most, it was their first time into Zar'ahal most likely. They might be a little obvious if spotted, but then, the point wasn't to be leaving tons of witnesses behind.

"Cave fishers," Zathria repeated, knowing the creatures and knowing how dangerous they could be. It may not have been the deadliest thing down here, but a misstep or bad decision could quickly lead to a violent end ripped apart by pincers.

"Why have you spent so much time in these sewer paths?" she asked. It all seemed a bit convenient, her appearing, and that set Zathria on edge.

‘Vernutar’ inclined her head politely to Zathria.

“A fair enquiry, O A’ni. My occupation sometimes required the acquisition of books from the hands of proud ownership. The middens provided a discreet way to infiltrate a household’s library without having to defeat all that house’s defenses. I prided myself on leaving no trail, of bodies or otherwise. Out the middens, a quick cleaning cantrip, with only a corridor or two and maybe a door to navigate.”

A dim, silvery illusion of just such an escapade formed as she described it, a small cloaked figure skulking a corridor, kneeling at a door before it opened mere seconds later, a few seconds at a bookshelf, then back down the corridor, the door relocking itself behind her. She waved the scene away with a lizardskin-gloved hand just at the point the silvery figure levitated back down the middens.