A Retreat from the Darkness

[Knightei 318]

 

Behind the swamps of Guise, a dwarf can be seen washing in the eponymous lake. Sludge and muck is slowly scrubbed from the stout figure, the flaming eyes scouring his body for the offending crud. Urthun looks across the lake, stopping his cleaning as he goes and sits down on the lake shore, shivering slightly as the dwarf looks back upon the events of the previous night.

 

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The five figures trudge from the swamp of Guise, chatter light as they head towards Kaedrin. The two aep Cynan, clad in brigadines and plates, lead the group with a cloth covered figure following. Bringing up the rear was a heavily armoured dwarf and a relic of the distant past, a Grand Sarient of the Teutonic Order.

 

The party reach their destination, a simple trap door amidst the fields of the commonwealth that lies inconspicuous near the house it services. Contrary to common knowledge, the ladder that leads into the darkness belongs to the old Ves sewer network, and the horrors that now inhabit them. Four members of the group descend into the darkness, the Teuton standing watch from the surface. For all but the dwarf, they had all tread this ground before, the brothers again leading with a torch held to stave off the darkness.

 

The labyrinthian nature of the Ves sewers forced the group to make turn after turn, passing corpses of dead ratmen, slain in previous excursions. The stench of sewage and rotting corpses assault the sense of the four, as they reach the furthest they’ve ventured yet. As the gloom pushes down on the descendants, they look to one another to confirm the need to move further.

 

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Splashing through the grime and sludge, the brothers and the dwarf look ahead to see a crossroads in the system, the three of them gripping tight their respective weapons, knuckles whitening. Merwyn looked back at the dwarf, and scowls as the cloaked member of their group had disappeared, harsh words to be spoken to Armade once this was finished. In this instant, his foot brushes against something at knee height.

 

A great crack reverbs through the enclosed space as a deluge of rocks strike the warrior, Merwyn dropping like a sack of potatoes. Scittering is heard in the distance, eyes shining in the gloom as the the three are watched by their malevenant foe. The dwarf leapt to the stricken figure, moving the stones off of the still breathing human. “We s’ould scarper ‘n’ quick, ‘fore ‘dem rats come.” the dwarf would hiss through clenched teeth, Gawain nodding “Yes, the two of us will be overwhelmed if we don’t retreat.”. Gawain hands the dwarf the torch, before leaning over to pick up his brother. The three figures hurry from the sight of the traps, dragging the stricken man from the area.

 

In the distance, a Ratiki stops and looks at the group, watching their tormentors retreat... 

 

There was always the next time.