Chapter 5: Pleased to Meet You

Into the oppressive quiet of the tunnels comes a voice. It’s high-pitched — it could be a woman or a man, it’s hard to know — and it echoes uncomfortably loudly off the walls and floor.

"Now now now, my little chickies, my little mice, my adorable little quarry... dropping rocks on us? Now that wasn’t friendly. Wasn’t friendly at all, no no no. But their skulls did make such a sweet little crack as they were crushed. Just like nuts, they were!"

The voice laughs; a snort, a giggle, a cackle.

"But we don’t need them with their swords and their armor and all those silly things. We’re different, you and I."

There’s a wet, slurping sort of sound. Licking? Something... worse?

When the voice returns, it’s a quiet, conspiratorial whisper. "Yes, I know... I can taste it in the air..."

It moans, a sound of ecstasy.

"Oh, my chickies... we’re almost together, you and I..."

Verrian listens to the strange, new voice through the whitestone disk and feels a chill tickle her spine. "Um... guys? What was that?"

Ember pulls Elora along and almost pushes Erannik.

Not sure! Not sticking around to find out!

Verrian looks at Eanala. "Where's this tavern basement Erannik mentioned? We've got to leave! Now!"

Eanala is already buckling on her sword, a long thin blade. Giran and Lucia as well reach for weapons, Livia a heavy mace and Giran a short sword and dagger.

The elven woman says flatly, "Three blocks over."

She yells at the disc at she leads the way out of the basement headquarters, "You’d better come out of this alive, Erannik, or I’ll have someone bring you back just so I can kill you myself, you stupid rock pounder!"

There are open tears in her eyes as she says it. She doesn’t bother wiping them away as she rushes out the cellar door. The other two follow along at the same pace.

"Yelnar, they seem to be rushing up ahead, best try and keep up." Swan glances once behind them and follows the others.

Drawing her rapier, Verrian follows them all out of the cellar door. She renews her efforts to reach for Coreene telepathically as they hurry to the rescue.

Meanwhile, in the warehouse, there’s an obvious increase in activity. An unfamiliar person comes in to talk to Brick, and a few of the guards edge over to gather around. Several in the small knot of people start peering around at the captives. They try to do so surreptitiously, but it’s obvious to anyone with working eyes. The guards aren’t subtle.

Brick nods to the man that’s just come in, a nondescript human in commoners’ clothing. He twirls one finger in the air, and the guards start fanning out slowly through the warehouse.

Wil keeps his eyes on the guards as best he can. He smiles but whispers through it.

Vessina, I think that now would be a good time for any brave people in this room to make a stand. I have friends who may be making a scene outside, and hopefully are coming this way. If anyone has any magic left, or weapons...now might be the last chance to take a stand.

Wil makes sure his hand is ready to go to his boot so he can grab his dagger.
He stands and yells at Brick.

Krigor! What is going on? These people are innocent. You know this is wrong. You are on the wrong side. Garand Disos is a warlord who uses the fear of magic to get rid of innocent people, while using magic himself. He is the twisted one, you must see that. I know you are a good man.

Elora has no intention of sticking around, not needing Ember to yank her to make the decision.

Yelnar follows along, still keeping his senses tuned behind him as best he can in case he needs to turn and fight.

Coreene's eyes are wide. She allows the others to pass her, making sure that Uelten and Yelnar are following before taking off with the group.

Ember calls to the people in the back.

Say the word and I'll rain fire!

Swan calls back, "You keep your eyes open and don't lead us into a pit!"

The breeze is faint at first, just a tickling against your face, but it gradually grows in strength, whipping your hair about and causing Swan's torch to flicker.

The voice continues to echo through the tunnels, singing a well-known children's song about an adventurous mouse that meets all kinds of farm animals on its journey. The poor mouse never met quite so many graphic endings as it does in this version, though. Each verse is punctuated with a delighted giggle.

"Playing with fire isn't good for little chickies. They'll only burn their poor little fingers and toes, and then who will comfort them, poor little chickies?"

The wind falters, shifts direction as though coming from a different tunnel, and the echoing voice swirls and wavers in volume. "Give me the fire, little chicky. It will only hurt you. I'll keep you safe. Safe forever, my dear little chicky," it says, pitch going lower, softer, nearly a purr.

Erannik looks about, growing frantic. "Where in the blazes is it coming from?!" he says. "I can't take us around it if I don't know where it is!"

As he speaks, the light from his lantern begins to fade.

In her panic, Ember's skin begins to flicker with small, illusory flames. At least they provide light...

Cut the charade and DO SOMETHING!

She wiggles her fingers and looks around frantically. Dozens of dark, feathery pieces burst from her hand, like what's left of paper after it's held in a flame.

Gesturing wildly in the midst of the bat-like distraction, she tries to get the creature off their tail.

Back to the entrance! We'll die down here!

Vessina stands and looks back over her shoulder at the guards starting to move through the room. "I have friends outside as well," she murmurs. "And some small amount of magic. But I fear it may just be the two of us against everything. So many are broken and defeated." Still, she quickly moves to the man and woman she had been speaking to when Wil first arrived and speaks quietly with them.

In the slowly building commotion as the guards start moving through the warehouse, Brick stares flatly at Wil in response to the halfling's little speech. The big man looks around him, almost as though he wonders if Wil is speaking to him or not. His lip curls in a sneer, and he makes his way over.

"Look... I got nothing against you," he says harshly. "You seem like you're an okay guy. But you gotta shut your mouth."

He takes a quick look around. "You go out the door you first came in, it's not watched closely right now. Clever guy like you can probably figure out how you can make your way out to the street. But you didn't hear that from me."

Brick gives Wil one more long, expressionless look, and then he turns to walk away.

Still no response from Coreene. She must still be too far away.

Eanala leads the group from the cellar in a hurry. Down the alleyway and out to the dark main street. Her pale hair and skin is the only thing visible, her black clothing and leather armor blending almost perfectly into the night. She points down the street. "Three blocks that way. There's a white line painted on the alley entrance. You'll see the old sign for the tavern out front. Door's in the cellar." she says as she starts into a loping run. "In case we get separated."

Livia keeps pace with Eanala, while Giran keeps an eye behind the group. Still running along with the others, but watching over his shoulder for any sudden pursuit.

Despite the lack of response from Coreene, Verrian begins sharing on a loop: @Coreene: I'm on my way. Hold on, I'm coming. It's mostly to reassure herself and assuage her guilt. While she was sitting in safety and relative comfort getting information from the resistance, her friends have been risking their lives trying to make their way through an unfamiliar city where magic users were subject to capture and mutilation.

What the hell had she been thinking when she approved this plan?

"That voice," she says, breathing hard as she runs alongside Eanala. "What was it, do you know?"

Eanala looks over at Verrian, and it's painfully obvious that the elven woman is scared. "I... I don't know. I was hoping that you had some idea. There were horrors during the war... creatures and..."

She doesn't seem able to continue. "But it sounded to me like it was saying it had been with others. Guards, maybe? Nothing from the war would be working with the guards, would it?"

In contrast to the calm, confident woman you first met, Eanala sounds as if she's about two more snapped threads from tearing apart completely.

You pass in front of an alleyway mid-block, and as you continue on toward this supposed tavern, you hear a shout echo faintly behind you. "You! You running! Stop in the name of Mayor Ghara and the Guard!"