Neil knew the sewers as far as a few streets from experience, but his old friend Heinz had told him there were old, antiquated sewers that reached miles away outside of the city. Most had been demolished over the centuries, but Heinz had told him he and a few of his lads had found an exit that led past the river one day, a couple of years ago. Of course, Heinz had been drunk when he had told that to Neil, but it was either that or go back up and fight an army of thirty thousand beastmen, and Neil would rather protect Emmaline than do that. 

They passed a few alcoves and grates that streamed light into the darkness, guiding their path. A few times rats scurried beneath their feet or scuttled across the narrow walkways. Neil stiffened and Emmaline squawked, but the rats were less worrisome than the shadows of violence that played against the walls every few blocks like hellish puppet shows. Only when they had made it further than Neil had ever traveled did the light fade entirely, and Neil took out a torch and lit it, illuminating the stones around them. The water had a sickly green tinge to its murk, and a few rats scampered away into the darkness. 

"I could have used a spell..." She said. 

"Don't want to tire you out. You've done a lot of legwork recently, remember?" 

"Wasn't just my legs," she grinned, taking the torch he gave her gladly. 

"Don't worry," He said, stepping in close as he placed his unlit torch against hers, the cloth igniting a great euphemism for the suggestiveness in his tone. "I'll give you another work out as soon as we're out of here." 

[hr] 

Scritscrit was surprise these manthings knew where they were going. No doubt the ruckus above had led them down here, but it was by the blessings of the Horned Rat that he had discovered them with that unmistakable scent coiling around their forms. He had followed them until they had lit the dreaded torches, and he nearly expelled the musk of fear, as he had thought they had discovered him. He had silently scampered back into the shadows and listened. Clearly the male and breeder were conversing of something important, but he could not tell what it was. 

He needed to go and tell a few others of his brethren, perhaps some slave rats and Ekit Scatclaw his fellow clanrat that they were heading into the old catacombs. If this manthing knew they way, they could make it into the sunlight in only a few hours. Scitscrit couldn't risk letting them get away, but the way the manthing moved, he knew it would be a fight for his life. The breeder herself just complicated things, especially with that torch. Scitscrit faded into the darkness to fetch his brothers, knowing there was only one way for the manthings to go to find freedom.