Be A Wight In The Darkness

One adventurer made the mistake of pointing out that it was possible that wights could maybe slip into the city through the Tornmawr river -- it's not like the dead need to breathe, after all -- and naturally that would also mean that they could slip in to the city sewers through the same means more easily unntoiced than the much watched shoreline. No one has spotted any wights so far, thankfully, but the concern over the walking dead is real and the city packed with people vulnerable to the possibility should even one arrive.

Which, of course, is why you're now standing as a group collectively in front of a sewer entrance, a grate peeled open and a set of stairs leading down into the darkness. Your mission is to go to several points in the sewers and clear them so that a later team can see about making them impassable to the dead.

The map indicates six such locations and given the distances involved it looks like you're going to be ... down ... there ... a while.

The smell drifting out is already ... painful.

Sora shifts and adjusts the hanger for her greatsword so that it doesn't drag on the ground. She flexes her artifice arm, and does some stretching as she checks the straps of her breastplate, the shiny metal clinging to her chest. She sighs a bit as she looks at the grate, "Why did I agree to this again, I hate the sewers." she mutters to herself and then shakes her head again. She glances around at the others for a moment and then chuckles. The small human lass shakes her head, "At least I am not the smallest this time." she says and smiles just a bit.

Nemori is asking herself for what she is sure the hundredth time why she is doing this as she stares at the sewer entrance doing her best to not gag at the aroma floating out. Still, she had been warned about the possibility of missions like this when she first registered at the Guild... one of the first purchases she made for her 'adventuring supply' were small sticks of wax, two of which she is now working with her fingers to soften and mold.. and eventually plug her nose with. At least it's a full sized company this time.. and at least a couple of people who might make decent shields. "I would doubt the integrity of anyone who claimed they did not hate the sewers." "Now, I kno'. You smell that malassy?" Carver's voice is muffled behind a facescarf, perhaps scented with something to ward the ~worst~ of the stench of the deeps they are diving. "Issit bad? Yeah. Issit jus' really awful? Yeah. Bu' yous ever been stuck in a tunnel with a pack of Dwarf Stouty Miners with gas? Issit that bad? Naaaaah. Burn th' hair right off ya nose. Jus' think about that." The well-packed ranger with her survival gear reaches for the her light, a thin shallow beam lighting off the walls as she holds it aloft. "Sorry, wot those can see in the dark. Can't tell a gnat from a rat withou' a lil' touch of the sun." Kyria lifts a hand to try and cover her nose, at least for the moment; it's going to be a losing battle. A glance to Sora and she smiles a little, then shakes her head. "I just hope there's no swimming needed." It's an attempt at a joke but it sounds too forlorn to hit that mark. Looking to Dalton she gives him a slightly concerned look, "And I wouldn't stand up all the way if I were you." Dalton just exhales with puffed out cheeks and a slow, steady leak of air like a pierced balloon. The giantborn is already slouching a bit as he adjusts the weight of his shield on one arm and the heft of his longsword in the other, "I just hope the tunnels are all the same height," comes the lightly graveled bass voice. Another deep breath of clean air and he's stalking into line with the others, likely at or near the front knowing the general idea of 'oh look big meat shield'. A sniff and he wrinkles his nose before looking at Carver, "It's pretty bad," in declaration. "Bu' not gassy Dwarf butthole bad." Carver says, hoping to keep the Giantborn's morale up.

Etzli was stopping to wonder how she ended up on this job. Not only was she being sent into a sewer, it was to potentially deal with wights sneaking into the city. Neither were particualarly enticing concepts. But she didn't really have a choice to turn it down, either.

"Gods, it smells even worse." The small makari bemoans, before reaching into her robes and pulling several pouches out of them, until she finds one with medical supplies in it. And more importantly, a vial that she opens to spread underneath her nose.

"It'll be alright, right?" She nods to Nemori. "We'll keep an exit planned and in mind. I know you're still figuring things out, but I can count on you if any of those undead show up, right?"

"Alright?" Nemori echoes rather dubiously, but she looks down at the diminutive Makari and considers her. Friends are a rare commodity, and while she and Eztli might not be terribly close yet.. the smaller one has professed an interest in that direction. So Nemori sighs and offers her a nod. "I will do my best, Eztli.. but be prepared to run." She does her best not to sound annoyed, as well. If it weren't for Eztli's presence.. well.. now it means that she's going to have to ensure at least one person's safety if things go bad. To the others. "It will be worse once we enter, I am sure. Best we be about it. Perhaps we will become accustomed to it." As if listening to her own advice, the two pieces of worked wax go back in their container, and then disappar into one of her small pouches. "Lead the way."