Chapter 5: Pleased to Meet You

"Put some space between us!" Verrian says. "It'll be harder for them to catch us." She veers toward the shadows, still running.

Elora pulls her hand free from Ember's grasp. She stuffs a hand in her bag, pulling out her tome as she flips through the pages, finding her spot with what little light she has. Concentrating for a second her hands begin to get moist, a sphere of some slick looking liquid encompassing it. She hurls the glob at the ground behind them, resounding with a *SPLAT!*

Ember smiles.

Gross.

The spell coats the ground, but as it's cast, the owner of the voice lets out a breathless gasp. "Oh my," it murmurs. "Yes, do more of that, please, little chickies, my lovely little lambs. It's been so long... so very very long since they've let me out, and I've missed the taste so... much..."

Then, from around the corner, in the dimming, flickering light from lantern and torch, a figure appears. It's humanoid, certainly, tall and thin as though it's been stretched: long limbs, narrow torso. The thing's flesh is mottled, partly normal human skin, but more of it an unnatural black so deep it almost seems to suck light toward it, spread around its body in irregular patches but almost completely covering its face. At this distance, in the poor light, you can't make out many other features -- or maybe it doesn't have any at all. Even though it's still about 30 feet away, you can feel cold radiating from it.

It moves in jerking motions, head tilted to one side, limbs twitching awkwardly every once in a while. As it sees the party, it lets out a long sigh of satisfaction. "Ohhhhh... there's so many of you," it says. "Come, chickies. Come with me. We can heal each other." You see no mouth moving as it 'speaks'.

It raises its arm toward Elora, weirdly long fingers curling as it beckons her. "You first, my lamb. I know it was you," comes a whisper. Gracefully, it gestures toward the grease covering the floor between you and it. "I can taste it on you," it says, head tilting back at an awkward, unnatural angle.

There's a moment of stunned silence, then Erannik says, "We're close! We can outrun it!"

---

Outside in the streets, Eanala, Livia and Giran take Verrian's suggestion to heart, at least partly. Livia seems unwilling to distance herself too far from Eanala, but those two do spread away from Verrian and Giran a bit. They all continue running toward their destination with newfound urgency.

Eanala gestures to the others to duck down an alleyway and get off the street. She waits at the mouth of the alley, breathlessly telling the others as they pass, "Through the building. Come out on the next street over, go right and around the block, you'll be there. We know these districts far better than the guard, we'll be fine."

Verrian nods as she passes Eanala and lets Giran enter the building ahead of her, presuming that he already knows the interior layout. She'll make better time if she doesn't have to slow down to avoid obstacles.

Brick turns around, his hulking form looming over the smaller halfling. "What do you want me to do?" he hisses. "Look around you? Ain't no way all these people are getting out without a fight, and in case you haven't noticed, you're outnumbered and overpowered. No matter what I do."

If you are with me, then we are less out numbered and overpowered. I will faint if you can't handle 3 of those bullies. And I am tougher than I look. And you never know when unexpected heroes show up

Coreene grabs at Ember and Elora in fear, not taking her eyes off the monstrosity before them. She begins trying to pull them along with Erannik. She keeps repeating herself quietly., switching between "What the hell is that?" and "Keep moving, keep moving!"

Elora's eyes bulge in fear at the sight of this creature, feeling like she's in a nightmare. "Yes! Now please!" There is no disguising the terror in her voice.

First Giran, then Verrian, then Livia. All hurry into the building, and Eanala quickly shuts the door behind them. Livia and Eanala begin piling things in front of the door, as quickly as possible. When Giran hesitates, Eanala brushes him away with a quick gesture. "Go! Go! We'll be right behind you!"

Giran clearly doesn't quite believe it, but he nods once and continues through the building, expecting Verrian will follow. It's a quick trip through the building and they're out on the street again. Giran points to the right and says, breathing heavily, "It's this way."

He puts a hand on Verrian's arm and starts down the street again. Eanala and Livia still haven't followed, and that clearly worries him more than a little, but he takes off nonetheless.

Erannik waves people on, and as the last person approaches, he too begins moving down the tunnel again. "Three intersections, take a left, and three more. There'll be a door," he says quickly. "In case we get separated."

He takes one last look over his shoulder at the thing, which lets out a cackle of glee as you all start fleeing.

As it moves forward, it takes a step into the grease and finds itself uncertain moving forward. It doesn't fall, but it does take time to find its footing. This gives you some additional time to put space between you and it.

Verrian doesn't hesitate to follow Giran. She shares his concern about their comrades - including his aunt - but there's no time to question Eanala's tactics or judgment.

Her friends are in danger.

"Where are we headed?" she asks Giran. "I want to know what to expect."

Reaching the end of the street, Giran looks around the corner to check for guards before he makes the move to the next block. "Normally, it'd just be some boring tunnels. Erannik actually helped build a lot of them, or at least he says he did. He's pretty touchy about it too," says Giran as he runs. "But I've got no idea what's down there, and what I heard..."

He stops outside a building with an old sign hanging above the door. The tavern in question, you guess. "Talva, I'm scared. I'm terrified. I'll do what I can, but..." He looks away. It's hard to tell in the darkness, but you're guessing he's ashamed.

Brick takes a long, blank look at Wil, and moves a few steps away to yell out, "Change of plans. We're moving them all to the north warehouse. Safer there. Round everything and everyone up. We move in fifteen minutes."

He moves back past Wil, and says under his breath, "Wait for a signal, and then you'd better have some tricks up those tiny sleeves of yours. Do what you have to to be ready."

And with that, he's moving among the guards to explain the 'plan'. Some argue with him, one seems particularly upset by the plan until Brick plants a fist in his face. Unconscious people don't argue.

The confession startles Verrian, and at first, her impulse is to demand that he step up and act like a grown man, that they have no time for such foolishness.

She beats down that impulse, ruthlessly. She's spent her life either training for extraordinary work or engaged in doing it - but she chose that path. It occurs to her that she's standing on a place of a immense privilege, attempting to judge a young man with none of her advantages, who's engaged in a dangerous struggle against oppression out of necessity, for daring to feel - and admit to - a perfectly reasonable fear in the face of something legitimately terrifying.

The shame is all hers.

She grips his biceps gently, turning him to face her. "Giran, you're terrified because that's the only rational response. I feel it, too - I'm just more scared for my friends than I am of... whatever that was that we heard."

She gives his arms a squeeze and releases them. "Just get me to where they are. If that's all you can do, it's still more than I can ever repay." She flashes a smile. "And if we both live through it, I'll tell you my real name."

Will mutters a quiet thank you to his new friend. He then moves over to the woman he was speaking to earlier.

Brick is with us. Wait for a sign and be ready with whatever you have. Tell anyone you can trust to be ready and not to hurt Brick.

He smiles at her and goes to help some of the sick and weak get to their feet.

Verrian is going to kill me if she shows up and I am gone.

Yelnar takes a quick look to assess the creatures pace compared to their own, prepared to take a stand if needs be.

Swan runs after the others his rapier in hand, torch in the other. Torch. Cold. Grease. He shakes his head. Better to fight in the light than a mad gamble.