Adventure Log VIIII

THE RAT RACE

Days passed, and the deadly plague spread relentlessly across Korvosa, its invisible, indiscriminate hands infecting all it met. Calliandra’s Eudicot home hosted the pox as their butler Renly, and chef Agnes were both taken ill. She got word that her friend Daesha Thalassimus was also suffering, as if the Commandant of Sable Company didn’t already have enough to be concerned about. Their family connections meant they were able to get someone out to see them, so both Daesha and Renly were on the mend, but Aggie remained touch-and-go.

Byron faced similar heartbreak. His companions Gina, Rose, Sam, and Guerta were all touched by the vile sickness. Driven by a desperate need to save them, Byron found a horse and rode straight to the Church of Abadar to find Ishani, the priest. As he approached the church, he was met with a sea of desperate faces. Hundreds of people had gathered, seeking the same salvation he sought, making it nearly impossible to push through.

When Byron finally reached Ishani, he could see the exhaustion etched on the priest's face. Ishani explained that their resources were depleted: all scrolls, wands, and potions were gone, and the plague was spreading faster than they could heal. His magic was spent for the day, as was that of his colleagues, but he promised to come to Ruby's Rest the following morning to help. Though frustrated that nothing could be done immediately, Byron nodded in understanding, knowing he had no choice but to wait.

Dawn broke, and true to his word, Ishani arrived at Ruby's Rest. His magic was potent enough to cure Gina and Rose, but Sam and Gert remained seriously ill. Byron, distraught, could do nothing to aid them. Byron, standing in the now-quiet Ruby's Rest, watched Ishani depart with a heavy heart. The morning sun filtered through the grimy windows, casting long shadows on the worn floor. As the sun climbed higher, the city of Korvosa continued to grapple with the invisible enemy. Gina and Rose, though weak, were recovering, and he offered them a tired but hopeful smile. The laboured breathing of their remaining invalids were a constant reminder of the battle they were losing. Word on the street got back to him that the small gang calling themselves the River Lads, the crewt he kept running out of Gaedren’s warehouse, had also been touched by the marks of plague, and wondered if any of them would be seen again.

Fortunately for Taylan, Trevor, and Nightingale, none of their friends or family had yet been affected by the plague. They remained vigilant, knowing that the situation could change at any moment.

————————————————————

During this turbulent time, Nightingale checked in on his father. Adam, an eternal optimist, always focused on the positives in life. As they sat together, Nightingale stressed the importance of vigilance in the face of the plague, urging his father to clean and wash his hands thoroughly. His father agreed, insisting that both he and Nightingale’s mother would be fine. Though Nightingale had no doubt about his mother’s resilience, it was clear he harboured concerns about his father.

In North Point, Taylan visited the Nabootique to find that Master Roshi had vanished. The house was littered with various notes, each bearing a different message: "Off hunting dragons," "Don't steal anything," "Look after Naboo," and so on. The notes, whimsical as they were, provided little comfort.

As Taylan wandered around the shop, looking for more hidden notes, he heard a knock on the door. Opening it, he was greeted by a very sad and nervous woman with jaundiced eyes and a faint smell of fish about her. She introduced herself as Eries Yelloweyes and explained that she was looking for Master Roshi. When Taylan informed her that Master Roshi had left the city for a while, she looked crestfallen. Seeing her distress, Taylan offered to help, mentioning that he was a member of the Flowers of Korvosa, a group known for their dedication to the city's welfare.

Eries hesitated, struggling internally with whether to reveal her concerns. Finally, trusting in the Flowers' reputation, she nodded and explained that she knew of a group of people who, aggrieved by certain issues in the city, were planning to take action. She feared the worst—violence could soon descend upon the streets.

Empathetic to her concerns, Taylan suggested she accompany him to meet the rest of the Flowers. She agreed, and together they set off for the Cracked Weasel, a well-known meeting place for the group.

As they walked through the bustling streets, Taylan could sense Eries' apprehension. He spoke softly, reassuring her of their commitment to the city's safety. Upon reaching the Cracked Weasel, they found Trevor, Calli, Byron, and Nightingale already gathered. The mood was sombre, the recent battles and the plague weighing heavily on their minds.

Taylan introduced Eries and explained her situation. Eries, still nervous but bolstered by Taylan's presence, took a deep breath, her nervousness palpable, and began her story.

"I need to tell you something important," Eries said, her voice wavering. "I am a Lycanthrope. I can turn into a Wererat. My kind and I have lived in secret here in Korvosa for many, many years. We've had to, because we've experienced extreme prejudice in the past. For a long time, we've managed to get by unnoticed. But recently, things have taken a dark turn."

The party listened intently, sensing the gravity of her words.

"A mob of Midland citizens recently discovered one of my kind and publicly executed him. But their violence didn't stop there; it quickly extended to a few drunken dockworkers braving the sewers to hunt wererats, blaming the plague on us. Used to fear and abuse, most of us responded by abandoning our dens and hiding elsewhere in the city. But one wererat, a chaotic and violent individual named Girrigz Ripperclaws, refused to do so. Instead, he is now calling his kin to go to war against the weakened humans above."

Eries' expression darkened with worry and frustration. "I've tried to talk sense into him and his gang, but my efforts have failed. Something must be done about Girrigz before more lives are lost. I’m asking you to speak with him and, if necessary, show him the force the city will undoubtedly employ if his rebellion continues. But please, I beg you, do not kill my people if it can be avoided."

She paused, letting the weight of her request settle over the group. "In exchange for your help, once his ragtag army is disbanded, me and my kin will help dispose of infected bodies and do what we can to help fight the spread. We’re blessedly immune to the sickness, you see."

Eries then gave them detailed directions to Girrigz’s lair beneath Midland, her eyes pleading. "I know this is a lot to ask, but I believe you are the only ones who can help us without resorting to unnecessary violence."

The party exchanged glances, the gravity of the situation clear. They nodded, understanding the delicate balance they needed to strike. Eries thanked them and then left them to discuss.

"What dangers can we expect?" Taylan asked, breaking the silence. "What can hurt lycanthropes?"

"Fire, magic and silver," Nightingale responded. "Those are their weaknesses."

Trevor said he had a potion of Silversheen he could pour onto his axe that could work. Byron wanted to purchase one of those too, so he could pour onto his claws.

Calli offered, "I have that silver dagger that Trevor begged me to keep in the handy haversack…" She reached into the bag to retrieve it, but her face fell when her hand came out empty. "It's gone," she said, deeply concerned. "Someone has stolen it."

The group exchanged worried glances, understanding the implications of the missing Arkona dagger. What’s more, it had been in a handy haversack, so whomever took it had to know it was in there in order to access it. The bag hadn’t left Calli’s side except to sleep and bathe.

"This is troubling," she understated, her voice steady despite her inner turmoil. "I’m going to investigate.” Calli then left the group promising to be back soon, and sped towards academic House Leroung.
Byron took the opportunity to go looking for silversheen, seeking out the alchemist Gale directed him to. The others waited, counting the moments slipping by and wondering what else the city would throw at them.

————————————————————

As Calli hurried to Nif Leroung's abode the streets of Korvosa were quieter than usual, the pervasive fear of the plague keeping most people indoors. She made sure to transform back into her everyday persona. When she reached Nif’s family abode she was stopped by the doormen, who apologetically explained they had to check her arms and legs for signs of the sickness before she could enter. She quickly acquiesced, offering to show her stomach as well, but they bashfully turned away and waved her through. In spite of the dire circumstances, it still got a chuckle out of her.

Inside she found her friend with a nose in a thick book, as expected. They sat curled up on an overstuffed settee, legs under them. Their traditional pointed cap had slid almost entirely off, unkempt mousy brown hair rising with the static. Nif looked up at the sudden intrusion, knocking the hat off entirely, eyes widening at Calli’s troubled expression. "Calliandra! What’s going on?"

Calli sat snug against them and lowered her voice. “Before I begin, is there somewhere we can talk where you are sure we won’t be overheard? Not even magically? Scrying is a very real concern.”
Nif nodded, “Our house is warded against scrying, and you’re safe here. What’s happened?”

“This is serious, and dangerous. I don’t want to tell you any more than I have to for your own safety and that of your family. But you’re the only one with the skills I can trust to assist. An artifact has been stolen out of my haversack.”

“You had an artifact?!” Nif’s annoyance had layers. The lost chance at examining an artifact first hand was the greatest. “You Lost an Artifact?!”

“Stop it. I couldn’t tell you. We obtained it in our adventures and I was trying to ascertain what it did, but it originated from some very powerful people. People who already threatened me in close quarters at inopportune times. People who know who I really am, Flowers or no. I’m assuming they were the ones who managed to get it back off me, but they had to get very close to me in my own home to do it. Do you understand my concern now?”

Nif’s face lost the annoyance and became as serious as Calli’s. Calli, seeing she had their attention, held out her hands and began softly singing. A perfect replica of the missing item rippled into existence as if she held it out for inspection. “All I’d managed to discover was that it hit like a normal dagger, in spite of the softer metal. I hadn’t had much opportunity to use it, yet. Nightingale had figured out it was through this that they were able to start scrying on me, but as you know they don’t need it anymore. They know us. Do to the creepy feeling of being watched when scryed upon Trevor was suspicious that it was sentient, he wouldn’t take the word of the three casters in the room that people didn’t need the dagger for that. It was him that convinced me to keep it in the bag instead of on my person. Seemed easier than listening to him stress about yet another thing. We have enough to worry about without the extra concerns he comes up with, honestly-”

“You’re off topic,” Nif’s matter-of-fact tone cut off Calli and brought her back to the topic at hand. They abandoned their book and pulled out a notebook and small ink quill set from a large pocket of their robe, beginning to take notes in tiny coded script Calli couldn’t understand. “Are you sure you can’t tell me anything about the providence? It would help point me in the right direction to start my search. I know spells that can help us physically locate it, of course, but you have to be within range, and it would be wise to know more of what it can do before attempting to reclaim it, if indeed that is your plan.”

“I’m not entirely sure. It feels important. And I really want to know how they managed it. If they did it once, they could do it again, and I might not survive the next time. I really don’t feel comfortable telling you who it belongs to, Nif. I want to. I do. But it’s too big. They’re too important. And they have people all over town. Be careful.” Calli took one of Nif’s hands and squeezed it. She could already see the wheels turning in her bookish friend’s tawny eyes. Calli had probably already said too much, but she trusted them.

Nif broke the tension by giving Calli a conspiratorial grin. “Knowing things is my family business. A byproduct of that is sometimes keeping secrets. I’ll do my best. But Calliandra, you be careful, too. Can’t become a legend if you die before you tell your story!”

————————————————————

When Calli returned to the Cracked Weasel, Byron had beaten her there. The cost of the silversheen was too much for this endeavour. “I’ll just have to hit harder.” Everyone believed he could.

Having regrouped, they started out towards Midland to begin their hunt, and as they traveled the party shared various rumors they’d heard since their river dive. Byron said he’d actually heard that wererats were spreading the plague intentionally before Eries had turned up. Gale had heard someone managed to get off the mysterious ship before it was sank. Taylan’s rumour was they’d tried to resurrect the king, but it had failed. Calli was annoyed to report all she’d heard was there is a new Lady in town looking for a partner. It was Trevor with the biggest bombshell. "There's a rumour going around that the Queen is planning to burn the bridges over the Narrows to quarantine the plague. This would isolate Old Korvosa from the rest of the city."

The party's reaction was immediate. "That would be catastrophic!" Byron exclaimed. "We can't let that happen."

"I've been keeping an eye out for any signs of this," Trevor said. "But so far, there's been nothing. Still, we can't take any chances. Byron and I will rally every orphan, publican, and street brawler we know to keep watch on the bridges."

They all agreed, their determination solidifying. But for now, they had a pressing task at hand. They’d arrived at the entrance of the sewers Eries had described.

————————————————————

The path led them to a particularly foul section of the Korvosan sewer system, where the stench was nearly unbearable. The labyrinthine tunnels awaited, a maze of darkness and danger, but the party pressed on with purpose. As they moved through the murky water and debris, Trevor took the lead, having eyes that pierced the darkness. Behind him, Nightingale cast light on his pocket watch in order for everyone else to see. This revealed the flow of sludge suddenly forked. Most of it continued on its expected path, but a small stream of ooze diverted through a wide cleft in the mouldy masonry wall. A man-sized crack in the wall revealed a tunnel cutting deep into the rock. Wisps of thin white smoke issued forth from the opening, swirling ominously in the foetid air. The party paused, exchanging wary glances.

"This must be it," Trevor indicated, pouring the silver sheen on his axe. "Stay sharp, everyone. We don't know what lies ahead."

He moved cautiously into the crack, the others following closely behind. Byron took up the rear, just in case of a surprise attack.

The tunnel was narrow and dark, the air thick with the acrid scent of smoke and sewage. As they ventured deeper, the sounds of dripping water and distant scurrying echoed around them. Before long Trevor could see it widened into a rough-hewn stone cave, where the stench of sewage mingled with the sickly sweet odour of fungus. At their angle the party could see a pool of slime oozing through the cavern, and to one side were fat black mushrooms and other disgusting growths surrounding a large purple mushroom nearly the size of a human man. The other bank of the filth river was out of sight, but a faint fiery glow came from further within.

Before Trevor crept any further forward, Nightingale placed a hand on his shoulder. “That mushroom is a Shrieker old boy,” he said, “ you step near it and it will scream, alerting everyone of our presence.”

The party then whispered between them what the best way was to deal with this. Eventually it came down to Trevor simply stepping up and hitting it with his axe as hard as he could. The mushroom was obliterated with pieces of the vegetable flying in various directions. “Victory,” said Trevor in jest, but as he said this he finally got a look into the rest of the cavern, where various wererats and dire rats began charging towards him

Taylan sprang into action, his hands crackling with arcane energy as he unleashed a cone of snowballs, freezing two dire rats in their tracks. But there was no time for celebration as Trevor swung his axe at a wererat, only to be thwarted by the slippery terrain beneath him.

Byron stalked in and demanded everyone stop. He reminded the party they wanted to talk to the lycanthropes, not exterminate them. Unfortunately the wererats had no reason to believe these invaders were any different to the others that had been after them, and they attacked him as well. Lil’ Focker quickly moved to defend his master.

In the chaos that ensued, Nightingale darted into the fray, his rapier flashing in the dim light as he deftly struck at a wererat. The blade barely made a scratch, but the surge of electricity that followed sent sparks flying, momentarily stunning the creature.

Another wererat lunged at Nightingale, attempting to slash him with its own sword, but the magus easily parried the blow with his rapier.

As the battle raged on, the party found themselves surrounded by a whirlwind of fur and fangs, each blow landing with bone-crushing force. Calli finally made it into the area, her voice raised in a desperate plea for peace. "Stop! We mean you no harm!" she cried, “We’re here to see Girrigz!” but the fallen bodies of their friends ensured her words fell on deaf ears as the creatures lunged forward, teeth bared.

The males of the party made shot work of the remaining adversaries in the fight, which ended when Trevors axe, coated in silversheen, combined with his considerable strength, tore through the last wererat knocking him unconscious.

After the battle subsided and the echoes of combat faded into the damp chamber, Calli's voice rang out with a tone of disappointment. She turned to Taylan, her expression stern and reproachful. "Taylan, violence was not our purpose here," she scolded, her words carrying a weight of frustration. "We came to negotiate, to find a peaceful resolution. But your actions..." Her voice trailed off, filled with a sense of disillusionment. "We've become no better than the mob who attacked the wererats on the streets. This could have been avoided."

Taylan's gaze fell under Calli's reproachful stare, a pang of guilt stirring within him. He had acted on instinct, driven by the chaos of battle, but now, faced with Calli's condemnation, he felt the weight of his actions. He knew she was right—their mission had been to quell the conflict, not to escalate it.

Those who had fought then turned their attention to the aftermath, scouring the chamber and the fallen foes for any remnants of value or clues to their predicament. Among the debris and bodies strewn across the floor, they uncovered various items of use, and two of note. Byron’s curious find was a bent copper trumpet adorned with the city's coat of arms, its significance uncertain but intriguing. Taylan's gaze fell upon a set of well-crafted tools nestled amidst the rubble. With a nod of approval, he recognized them as a complete set of carpenter's masterwork artisan's tools—a valuable find indeed.

Meanwhile Calli had refused to take part in the looting, and instead had been checking on the fallen themselves. Her concern was rewarded as she discovered the meerly unconscious victim, and she dared to hope that despite the violence that had transpired, there was still a chance for understanding and resolution. She warned the others, tied up the body so they’d have a chance to talk without them lashing out, and with a gentle touch, she administered a tiny bit of healing magic to the creature, watching as wounds closed and life returned to his eyes.

Once the wererat was fully awake, Calli made her case with a voice calm yet earnest. She spoke of misunderstanding and tragedy, of a desire for peace amidst the chaos of conflict. She apologised sincerely, hoping to convey the truth of their intentions. They only wanted an audience with Girrigz to convince him that attacking the surface people would only result in more of the same bloodshed and death.

They learned his name was Bevin, and the wererat's scepticism was evident as his gaze darted between the fallen bodies of his comrades and the unfamiliar faces before him. He told them the names of his murdered friends and asked them to understand why he was hesitant to believe them.

Calli pressed on, seeking information that could lead them closer to Girrigz. She asked about the wererat's companions in the adjacent chamber, his response providing a crucial piece of the puzzle. Four, he said, his voice tinged with wariness. He again explained how hard it was to trust them when he was being held as a prisoner.

Calli acknowledged his point, and extended an offer of freedom to Bevin, urging him to arrange a meeting with Girrigz. She emphasised their desire for peaceful resolution, hoping to bridge the gap between their two factions. It was then that Nightingale and Trevor chimed in, their dual presences imposing authority and strength. They warned Bevin of the consequences of defiance or trickery, words carrying a weight of intimidation.

Reluctantly, the wererat agreed, his suspicion lingering as he departed the party to fulfil his task. For Calli and her companions, this was a tremendous ‘leap of faith’ they had placed in Bevin, and they dared to hope for a chance at reconciliation amidst the shadows of the underground lair.

————————————————————

An uncomfortable amount of time passed before Bevin returned. He said Girrigz agreed to see them in the next chamber. The party were naturally suspicious, fearing a trap, but for the good of the city, they realised they had no choice but to enter. Byron sent Focker down a small path too small for the rest of them to enter from a different angle, just in case. As they followed Bevin into the room, the companions couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at their minds. Despite the wererat's promise, they remained vigilant, every shadow seeming to conceal a potential threat.

Once inside, they took in the rugged, desolate surroundings. Broken furniture lay scattered haphazardly, remnants of a life once lived amidst the darkness. The flickering glow of a small fire illuminated the centre, casting eerie shadows against the cavern walls. Short alcoves lined the perimeter, each harbouring nests of filthy, oversized rats—a testament to the harsh reality of life in the depths. The air hung heavy with the stench of decay, mingling with the sickly drip of polluted condensation that echoed throughout the chamber. A thick flow of sewage cut through the chamber, its foul odour permeating the air as it seeped from one crack in the wall to another. It was a grim sight, a harsh reminder of the harsh realities of their current predicament. Their suspicions were justified. Surrounding them on all sides were numerous wererats.

As Byron scanned the chamber, his keen eyes caught sight of the precarious state of the wall where the sewage flow cut through. His gaze narrowed on the southern end, where the walls appeared to be subsiding, weakened by the constant pressure of the foul sludge. But what caught his attention most was what lurked just out of sight—a looming threat concealed behind the narrow crack. Beyond the crumbling wall was an Otyugh, a grotesque and ravenous creature known for its insatiable appetite. The mere thought of the wall giving way sent a shiver down Trevor's spine. If the weakened walls were to collapse, it would unleash the hungry beast into the chamber, turning their already perilous situation into a desperate fight for survival.

Calli stepped forward and addressed the wererats. Her voice resonated through the chamber, her words a plea for peace and understanding. She said the actions of the few intolerant above did not represent the people as a whole, and that there were many who would work with the lycanthropes. She spoke of the dire consequences their actions would bring upon them and their kin if they were to proceed with their planned attack on the unsuspecting citizens of Korvosa. Her words were sincere, spoken confidently so they echoed through the cavern, but she could see the doubt and fear in the eyes of the wererats. She warned them that today her and her companions had shown the power they possess if they didn’t comply. But she’d rather show mercy. Before she could go any further, a chilling voice cut through the air, a voice filled with malice and deception.

"You see, brothers," the voice echoed, dripping with venomous intent. "They lie. They wish to hurt us, to enslave us! Kill them all!"

With those words, chaos descended upon the chamber like a storm unleashed. The wererats, fueled by paranoia and distrust, were swayed by the voice's sinister call to arms. In an instant, the atmosphere shifted from tense negotiation to frenzied violence, as the wererats lunged forward with savage intent, their eyes filled with rage and bloodlust.

As the chaos of battle erupted in the chamber, Taylan fixed his gaze on a nearby wererat. With intense focus, he cast his Burning Gaze spell, causing flames to engulf the creature. The wererat screeched in agony, but quickly rolled to extinguish the flames, still very much a threat.

Byron, consumed by his barbarian rage, charged at another nearby opponent. His claws sliced through the air with incredible force, but the creature's tough hide absorbed much of the impact, confirming what the party had discussed in the pub that morning.

Bevin lunged at Calli with a vicious snarl. She narrowly avoided his bite as he slipped on the damp ground, his attack falling short. She chided his attempt, having hoped at least he would’ve refrained.

Focker’s subterfuge paid off, and he surprised one of their attackers from behind, brutally piercing into their body with his deadly tail. Another dire rat nearby bit into the drake, trying to save its nest mate. The creature's sharp teeth sank into his flesh, but Little Focker shook it off with a growl, the injury not slowing him down.

Nightingale tossed a strange metallic object over the heads of the enemies, landing just past the fire. He inwardly cursed he had missed it and hoped the grenade would detonate sooner rather than later. Simultaneously, he ran his finger along his rapier, sharpening the blade with a magical edge.

Through the legs of the battle a sea of rats all fixated on Taylan, swarming him until he nearly disappeared beneath a multitude of bites and scratches. He felt his strength suffer from the filth of the creatures seeping into his bloodstream.

Standing in the center of the violence, heartbroken that their attempt at diplomacy was doomed and taking in the uneven odds of the battle, Calli recalled the card Zellara had pulled for her and wondered if this was the death fortold coming for her. Not ready to give up, she wove her magic into a shrill command for everyone to “Stop,” the power in it causing multiple dire rats to burst in gore, and stunning one of her attackers who scrabbled to cover their ears.

Trevor added to the growing pile of bloody vanquished, neatly severing a wererat entirely in two with his silvered axe.

Taylan, overwhelmed by the poisonous infection of the rats covering him, vomited violently and could do nothing but crawl away from the ravenous swarm.

Another wererat attacked Byron, slashing with a shortsword. The blade scraped across Byron’s skin, drawing blood but failing to deter the enraged barbarian. Byron snarled, his rage amplifying his strength. Determined to turn the tide, Byron fought back, missing his first strike but pouring all his strength into a second attack. His claws tore through the foe, splitting it in two. He roared triumphantly, "Hit harder!"

Bevan attacked Calli again, but with more hesitation, allowing her to easily dodge the clumsy strike. She saw his heart was not in this attack and wondered how many others there were the same.

Focker leapt onto the rat Calli had stunned, taking advantage of the temporary weakness shown.

Trevor spotted a large wererat darting towards Calli from the shadows. It seemed to blur unnaturally as it moved, and wielded a rapier as it lunged at her, teeth bared. This was clearly Girrigz. Calli narrowly evaded the attack as his teeth snapped shut inches from her neck. She in turn cast Hideous Laughter on her blurred assailant. "What do you call a rat who makes clothes?" she asked. "A tailor!" But the spell failed to take hold, Girrigz was unfazed by her words. Trevor swung his axe at the blurred figure but slipped. Calli felt something new, a dissonant chord in the fabric of reality, and produced an urgent magical cry, "Go low!" The warning helped him restore his balance, and he managed a powerful strike that wounded Girrigz, though it still stood.

Nightingale, his rapier crackling with electricity, struck a wererat. The blade cut deep, and electricity arced through the creature, causing it to convulse in pain but not yet fall.

The swarm of rats, deprived of Taylan, now engulfed Byron and Gale, their vision clouded by the writhing mass of vermin. The rats bit relentlessly, drawing blood and sapping their strength.

Finally having recovered enough, Taylan was able to cast Burning Hands at the rat swarm, flames roaring to life and engulfing the creatures. Though many were scorched, the swarm continued to bite and claw.

Byron, with a mighty roar, became a whirlwind of motion, slashing through the remaining rats with his claws, decimating the swarm and narrowly missing another wererat in the process. Nightingale followed up to take the wereperson out with another lightning-charged stab of his rapier directly through their furry head.

The magically obscured form of Girrigz, seething with anger, lunged at Calli. His teeth snapped again at the air just inches from her neck, but his rapier struck true, slicing across her side and causing considerable damage. Calli winced in pain and staggered backward, narrowly avoiding a tentacle that the trapped Otyugh had reached out, searching for unsuspecting victims.

As she moved away, Calli gathered her breath and cast another Sound Burst spell. The concussive wave of sound rippled through the chamber, igniting Nightingale's grenade in a thunderous explosion. The double blast rocked the cavern, sending debris flying and dealing significant damage to Girrigz. The explosion also claimed the life of Bevin, his body flung against the cavern wall.

Trevor, seeing an opening, swung his silver-coated axe once more. The blade connected with Girrigz, delivering a devastating blow. The wererat reeled from the impact, but incredibly, it still stood, its resilience a testament to its supernatural nature.

Taylan, eager to end the fight, focused his magical energy into his Burning Gaze. His eyes glowed with an intense heat as he turned them upon the blurred figure. The beams of fiery light lanced into the creature, cutting through its defences. Girrigz shrieked in agony as its body was eviscerated by the searing energy, finally collapsing in a lifeless heap.

One lycanthrope remained. It glanced around, its eyes wide with fear, then bolted towards a narrow crevice. Despite Byron and Little Focker giving chase, the wererat disappeared through the opening, escaping into the shadows beyond. Gale shouted after it a reminder, “It didn’t have to go this way.”

————————————————————

With the immediate threat neutralized, Trevor and Byron slumped to the floor, fatigue washing over them. Their breaths came heavy, the toll of the battle evident in their weary expressions.

Calli looked around at the bloody nightmare the room had become, and then stormed out, retreating to the previous cavern. Her head was spinning with the disaster. They were sent to have a conversation and instead it was a massacre. She’d never know if it could’ve been different, had the group put their hands up to the charging attackers at the start and proclaimed their intentions instead of immediately lashing out. The rat people had every reason to think they were just more murdering townsfolk, every right to defend their home seemingly under attack. They had been scared, oppressed, and in need of reassurance that the world above wasn’t out to get them. This didn’t feel good at all.

Meanwhile, Taylan and Nightingale decided to investigate the area. They sifted through the debris and bodies, their eyes catching a glint of something valuable. On Girrigz's body, they discovered a treasure trove of items: a magical silver rapier, a magical chainmail shirt, a potion of bear’s strength, and a few empty vials. They were able to ascertain these once contained the various boosts, like Blur, that had made Girrigz so hard to take down. The finds were bittersweet, trophies from a battle they had hoped to avoid.

The four of them left in the room discussed how best to deal with the fallen, and they agreed feeding them to the Otyugh still prowling near the crack in the wall would destroy any evidence of what had taken place.

Trevor, recovering from his fatigue, went to see Calli, Nightingale close behind. He found her sitting alone, a mixture of anger and sorrow on her face. "Calli," he began gently, "you did everything you could to negotiate. It may have gone wrong in our first encounter, but we did everything right after that. You did everything right."

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears, her jaw clenched.

"You were earnest in your plea to avoid violence," Trevor continued. "Something I deeply respect and believe in. But Girrigz wouldn't listen to reason. He ordered his fanatics to attack us, and we had no choice. By eliminating Girrigz and his gang, we've probably saved a lot of lives above."

This was true. Calli’s gaze turned back to a fallen wererat Bevin had named as Lenore, and she gave a small nod. Girrigz had seemed to have an almost unnatural hold on his gang, and he didn’t even try holding conversation before ordering the attack. At that point, it became self-defense, and Girrigz would’ve taken that malice above ground if The Flowers hadn’t stopped him. It didn’t stop her mourning the members of the gang they might’ve saved if things had gone better to start with.

Nightingale sat next to his young charge. "Trevor's right," he said, echoing Trevor's sentiments. "You did everything you could, Calli. Your heart was in the right place, and that's what matters." He hesitated for a moment, then awkwardly attempted to give her a hug, thinking better of it halfway and settling for a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Calli turned up one corner of her mouth in an attempt at a smile, she nodded again, but was uncharacteristically quiet.

————————————————————

Trevor, Calli, and Nightingale reunited with Taylan and Byron, their bonds as an adventuring group woven tighter by this experience. Determined to fully investigate the rest of Girrigz's lair, they pressed on through the dank tunnels and grimy caverns.

Their thorough investigation bore fruit. In the various nests tucked into alcoves through the area they discovered several useful treasures. They amassed a pile of basic weapons and armour both from the defeated and tucked away in their nests that they planned to sell off for party funds. They also found potions of cure moderate wounds, their glowing blue liquid promising healing and relief in times of need. The group exchanged looks of relief, knowing these potions could be lifesavers in future battles.

Next, they found a magical bottle of air, a never-ending aid to breathe in any environment, be it underwater, in a smoke-filled room, or even in a vacuum. Nightingale held up the potion, his mind already turning with the strategic possibilities it offered.

The most significant find, however, was a pearl of power. Calli's eyes lit up at the sight of the small, radiant orb. She verified what it was with Gale in whispers. He confirmed with her its potent magical properties: once per day, on command, the pearl could replace a spent spell slot. This particular pearl she was able to use Zellara’s Harrow deck to identify that it was a second-level pearl. For a spellcaster like Calli, this was a significant boon, enhancing their versatility and endurance in magical combat. Previously she’d have discussed her finds with the group and made sure no one else wanted it before keeping it for herself, but she found herself unwilling to reward Taylan’s rash actions, and dropped it into one of the smaller pouches on her belt. Nightingale followed her lead and kept quiet.

With these newfound items, the party felt more prepared for the challenges ahead. They regrouped and took a moment to distribute the items. Trevor and Byron took the potions of cure moderate wounds, keeping them accessible for any emergency healing. Trevor kept the tanglefoot bag, as he had the best luck with them so far. Taylan took the potion of Bear’s Endurance, his slight frame needing the boost of constitution when things got dicey. Nightingale, with his keen mind for strategy, took the potion of air. The coins gathered were added into the party loot in the haversack Calli carried for the group.

————————————————————

The Flowers emerged from the sewers, weary but determined. Calliandra made sure to magically remove the smell and look of the indescribable filth that covered them the moment they were free. Their minds raced with the events that had transpired as they sought out Eries Yelloweyes to report back. When they found her, she was waiting anxiously in a secluded alley, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"How did it go?" Eries asked, her voice tinged with both hope and fear.

Calli stepped forward, her expression sombre. "Not well," she said, her voice heavy with the weight of their failed diplomacy. "We tried to talk sense into Girrigz, but he was a fanatic. He wouldn't listen to reason, and violence couldn't be avoided."

Eries sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I feared as much. Girrigz was always too driven by his hatred and rage. I hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I understand."

"I’m so sorry," Calli continued, her tone earnest. "But in the end, we had no choice. We had to protect ourselves and the city. You should know one of the gang got away, who knows what he’s going to report back to the others, but we never mentioned you."

Eries nodded slowly, her gaze distant as she processed the news. "Thank you for your service. You did what you had to do."

Byron stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "We need to know, Eries. Will your kin help us deal with the plague? The city is suffering, and we need all the help we can get."

Eries hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I... I can't promise anything. Many of my kin are scared and distrustful of humans after what's happened. They may not be willing to risk themselves." Eries sighed again, looking at each member of the party in turn. "I'll do what I can to convince them, but I can't make any guarantees. The wounds run deep, and trust is hard to come by."

Nightingale gave Eries a short bow, "We understand. Do your best, and we'll continue to fight for Korvosa in any way we can."

With that, the party left Eries, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that they might be facing the plague without the aid of the wererats.

————————————————————

The Flowers began making their way to Zellara’s to deposit their finds until they could next arrange a meeting with a merchant, and as they did they noticed great masses of distressed people rushing towards the north of the city. They stopped someone on the way past who explained, "They're destroying the bridges over the Narrows to Old Korvosa!" The terrible rumour Trevor had heard seemed to be coming true. Nightingale, realising the urgency, quickly summoned his horses, and the group galloped towards the docks.

When they arrived, a massive crowd had gathered, watching in horror as all but one of the bridges leading into Old Korvosa were either aflame or completely destroyed. Only one bridge remained intact, guarded by fifty Grey Maidens. A priest of Asmodeus stood on the bridge, casting a spell to create a stone wall to prevent anyone from escaping. On their side, Cressida Kroft could be seen scowling at the Maidens. Across the river in Old Town, a half dozen of her guards stood saluting her, clearly sent there to help the people trapped.

Byron, filled with rage and desperation, charged past the Maidens on his horse towards the priest. Trevor, Taylan, and Calli followed closely behind, while Nightingale headed towards Kroft.

Byron confronted the priest, his voice trembling with fury. "Bring the wall down!" he bellowed. “My family is there!” His eyes were wild with desperation, knowing that cutting off Old Korvosa from the rest of the city meant starvation, disease, and chaos for the people trapped there.

The priest, his eyes cold and unyielding, replied that it was impossible. The stone wall was complete. "You're sentencing everyone in Old Korvosa to death!” shouted Byron grabbing the priest by the neck “They have no supplies, no way to survive!" The Grey Maidens seeing the situation ordered Byron to leave the bridge, but he refused, threatening them with his claws if they didn't bring the wall down. "You don't understand!" he shouted. "My friends, my family—they're in there! You're killing them!" The Grey Maidens looked unmoved at his plea and their hands went to the hilts on their swords.

Realising that violence was futile, Trevor intervened, placing a calming hand on Byron's shoulder. "Byron, we can't solve this with threats. We need to find another way." He managed to cajole Byron away, saying they needed to get across the river to be with their loved ones now. "We'll find a way, but not like this," Trevor urged. Byron, though reluctant, submitted to Trevor's logic, and they both went off in search of a small rowing boat.

Meanwhile, Nightingale confronted Kroft, his voice filled with indignation. "Cressida, you have to stop this madness! You're dooming an entire district!"

She shook her head, her face a mask of frustration and helplessness. "Nightingale, it's out of my hands. Sabina Merrin ordered this. We have no choice. I hate it as much as you do, but these are our orders."

Nightingale's fists clenched in frustration. "Sabina Merrin is behind this? Then she needs to be stopped! This is inhumane!"

Kroft's eyes flashed with anger and sorrow. "What do you expect me to do? Disobey direct orders? I'm trying to do what I can, but my hands are tied."

Exasperated and realising the futility of arguing further, Nightingale turned away to rejoin his companions.

Trevor and Byron had found a boat and were about to step in and sail across the river when Calli tried to persuade them to stay. She pleaded, "We need to fight this from here. This is where the power is, where we can make a difference."

But Trevor and Byron were adamant. "Our place is with our friends and family," Trevor said firmly. "They need us. You'd do the same if it were your family."

Tears welled up in Calli's eyes as she understood their determination. "Please, be safe," she whispered.

The group made plans for communication, Taylan offering that each morning, one of them would stand across the Narrows, using his magic to share updates across the distance. Nightingale handed his bottle of air to Trevor. "In case you need to escape and sneak back to the mainland."

With heavy hearts, the party said their goodbyes. Byron and Trevor rowed across the river into the quarantined Old Korvosa, leaving the others to ponder their next moves in the increasingly dire situation. As the boat drifted away, Calli's tears flowed freely, the weight of their separation pressing down on her. Trevor and Byron looked back, their own eyes filled with sorrow, knowing they might not see their friends again. The heartbreaking reality of their mission settled over them all, a silent vow to reunite and fight for their city, no matter the cost.