The Undercity

"I'll hold him down for you if you want." She responded before looking around for an exit.

"I wonder if I can get water through the cracks here...."

"Where in the seven hells are we, anyway?" asks Raena, looking around in the darkness. Unfortunately, her only sources of illumination are those that she gave away along with her cloak, and so it's very difficult to see. She squints through the darkness. "Is this...a tomb?"

Roxanne glances around.

"Sure looks like one. Well, one way to find out."

She walks over to one of the huge stone coffins and lifts the lid off. It falls and cracks on the ground. She looks inside.

"Yup. It's a tomb alright. Hey, Raynold. Do you guys bury your dead with swords, by any chance?"

A musical laugh could be heard off in the distance.

"Not a trick, dear Praetor. Your sword should be en-route to your home as we speak. Apologies, funds are low so we couldn't have it polished en route. You may check the coffins if you wish, but it would be positively fruitless. They have been emptied just for our meeting. I don't overlook details like that. "

The sound of a violin being played could be heard off in the distance. The sound was mellow and reflective: the work of a classically trained musician.

"Maybe....but I get the feeling people aren't meant to come out" Wendy replied as she walked forward with her lantern.  With one hand she began to focus some of her water together into what looked like a one-handed blade made of ice.  She tossed it to Roxanne.

"Here.  It ain't as strong as what you're used to, but you can pound some skeletons pretty well with it."  She said with a nod.  The sword's handle wasn't slippery but it was still cold.  The blade seemed sharp enough to cut as well as any decent sword, but weighed a little more than usual.  She looked over to Raena and the praetor.

"You guys need one too?"  She said as she started to pull more water out of her watersacks.

"Hah! Good one. It'll melt, yeah, but I'm using a little of my mental power to keep it frozen. Just stay near me and it'll be solid." Wendy said as she tapped her head.

"There is no need," responds Raena, a pocket of void even darker than her surroundings appearing in the air next to her at a word and dropping the gladius which she had banished earlier into her hand, the well-forged metal shimmering in what little light there is. She slides the leg bone into her belt just in case, but she doubts she'll need it. "No true warrior enters a battle without first preparing for what is to come," she continues. "The 'king' was an idiot. He did not notice the stirring of my cloak, nor the jolt of pain that was caused by my connecting with The Void. His preparations were inept, and it will cost him dearly."

Wendy shrugged.

"No worries, I'm used to it by now. By the way when you try to stab me in the back with that it'll turn on you and stab you instead." She said with an innocent smile.

The swell of music became louder as Takans paced through the halls of the catacombs. Some way back his temporary allies looted the coffins of his countrymen, turning their hallowed remains into shivs worthy of a prisoner. Evidently they expected combat and violence. Perhaps they would end up causing it themselves.

Prisoner . Was that what they were, down here? For a moment he had thought the Rat King had tricked them- perhaps he still had. They weren't dead yet, which was sign enough that this "Rat King" had at least some intention of letting them leave alive.

The air here was stale, and poorly circulated. Isolated from the rest of the overworld it was perfectly silent and still- or it would have been, had the fading music of the king not defied the silence. The music would soon fade altogether. Only the rare sound of a droplet of water falling into a puddle could be heard, or the wet squish of one's dirty boots on the stone floor.

Takans rounded a bend which opened up to a larger chamber. He could wait for the others to before he continued onward, or enter the room himself. It wouldn't change what he saw next.

The room was well lit: a single oil lantern graced each corner of the room. A throne of carved marble stone stood stalwart on the opposite wall, at odds with the rest of the room. In lieu of a carpet the stone leading to the throne had been carved with a lengthy text of runes. Reading it would take time none of them had.

Opposite the throne were six men, two on each side of the road of writing. They wielded short spears and kite shields, their simplistic looking armor and their tattooed bodies belying their true nature. A wizened old crone sat on a bench in the corner, tending to a scarf she was knitting.

Strangest of all was the Rat King himself. He was a young looking man, dapper and roguish with a sly smile and aristocratic features. Over his lean body was ensnared in a loose overcoat over which a gaudy looking half-cape of gilded gold and deep emerald was hung. Over his black locks was a crude looking crown of hammered copper: a piece not worthy of a blacksmith's son, let alone a "king". He had draped himself sideways in the wide chair, his legs hanging off of one side.

"I see you have arrived in one piece, Praetor-Rex Raynold Takans. How can this humble king be of service to our allies."

He spoke smugly and with irony, a thin smile gracing his lips. As the others would approach he would recoil in mock horror.

"G-Guards, g-guards! We are betrayed! They have come to kill me, with magics, ice, and the hallowed bones of noblemen. The horror!"

He wiped his brow.

"To think, the people whom I have so graciously extended an audience have come to me armed, despite my insistence on the contrary. Truly, humility and manners are dead."