Gorosk followed behind the others, happy to be wearing only his Monk robes. At times the added protection of armor would be lovely, perhaps that filthy rat would not have drawn his blood had he been wearing something thicker or more solid, but he enjoyed the mobility and lightness the robes granted him. Now, venturing beneath the Earth, more than ever he was happy to be able to move without added weight pulling his body about. Still, his mobility would do him little good trapped behind others in so small an area.

Gorosk would have preferred to be either in the front, scouting stealthily, the head of the arrow so to speak, or in the very rear, but the Elf would need the space, it made sense. With her at the back, in touch as she seemed with nature, perhaps they would get a warning should the vermin attempt to rush them from behind. It would not be easy for them to all turn about in the small tunnel should they be ambushed, but with a slight heads up they may be fine.

He followed behind, ready to be leaving the dark dank confines of the tunnel almost as soon as he entered them, and hoped that the tunnel would soon open in to a chamber. He did not wish to die under the Earth, hidden from the light of the sun, lost and forgotten.

The daring of the five that made up their number did not go unrewarded, for it was not long in the shallow light of the lantern the man bore that their decline into the depths of this muddy, nasty pit found what seemed to be a treasure. A chest in the cellar, its worn black exterior and faintly rusted fringes glowered at them, locked and sealed tight. Aside from the building which had burned above it and in part charred its exterior, and now laying along the rat's way, it looked no worse for wear. The owners, whoever and wherever they were, were nowhere to be found - not even their remains. So as the light cast out further, the underground opened up far larger.

The rats had been busy, quite busy, expanding beyond just the cellar and the chest surrounded by the cooled cinders of the destroyed farmstead, with various tunnels sprawling out from this main den. Here bits and piles of grasses and plants torn from the outside had been dragged under to create nests, many of which were empty, some of which had bits of gnawed bones of what had been food for the scavenging beasts. Nearly all had whatever the rats collected into their lair, some had weapons or tools even, the odd sword or sickle, likely what they had found above and dragged back with them for whatever reason. Yet all this revealed, namely to the goliath who stooped herself over, was that a tunnel headed presumably toward the barn, another toward the fields, and another still deeper down if its shallow angle was any indication.

Although this was welcome news that it would be difficult to become lost in this miserable place with its warm, almost humid putrid air, it also meant that there were many of these rats and soon there were. Immediately their intrusion did not go unanswered for long as several rats, two larger than those before, poured in from the deeper portion of the tunnel. Noses wriggling in the direction of the invaders, yellow teeth clattering, immediately the fight was on but as it would go, this time it would be the band taking advantage of the ill prepared dire rats. Larger as two of them were with lighter fur on their backs, they had made the mistake of not trying to ambush the five before them.


@BangoSkank@Hellion@Lord Wyron@TyrannosaursRex

---

Their trek through the foul and cramped tunnels was, thankfully, rather short-lived. As the burrows beneath the homestead unfolded, the passage they sifted through opened into a larger, more spacious chamber, connecting identical tunnels. Renault was reminded of the architecture found within Andallia's ages-old cathedrals and chapels; tunnels wrought of cold, hard stone, lit by braziers and torches that carried the sickeningly sweet smell of incense. To some of Erithar's adherents, the perfumed vapors brought a sense of calm and equilibrium - spiritual enlightenment. But others found the stench nauseating; their thoughts and actions clouded like a thick haze that seeped into their eyes, their nostrils, their lungs, and their minds.

But this place, this...befouled antechamber, bearing a lone chest and nothing else. Whatever indulgences may have been contained within were no doubt unholy. Still unable to shake that knowing feeling that they were all being watched, Renault silently gave thanks for the wider space and returned his dagger to his side before drawing his blade proper. His heartbeat quickened in the initial dead silence of the room. Something was off - unsettling. There was no sign here of life or death, and every breath they took seemed to bounce off the walls and echo back in different directions. It was as if they had tread upon the sanctified ground of a pestilent god.

Then they emerged: four acolytes, two senior among them, light-colored fur marking their station. Raising sword-and-shield slowly in those spare few moments before battle was inevitably to start, Renault spoke to the others, barely above a whisper, "We stick together..." De Bray's heroics earlier, while unwittingly successful in the moment, was something that rarely worked twice, and Renault was unwilling to risk the possibility of serious injury down here. Rats were not hunters; but scavengers, marauders. They knew they could not kill in one stroke, so they maimed, wounded. A crippling injury down here was certain death, to be feasted upon alive by these filth-ridden zealots and their spawn.

Renault decided then-and-there that this would not be the way he dies.

"Alright, then," he said next, hoping the others had heard his earlier message. "Attack!" The final word, while still hushed, came out in something of a snarl. Leading a half-charge-half-sprint in the direction of their enemies, Renault's injured leg gave him a lopsided, almost feral stance as he lunged towards one of the larger rats, raising sword above head and bringing it down in cleaving blow, hoping to use gravity to his advantage.

The descent into the mouth -and shortly followed by the throat- of the tunnel was without much obstruction it seemed. Perhaps the rats preferred a clearer path to and from the surface as they did whatever was needed in order to survive each day. The group did, in fact, impede on their domain, or at least a domain the creatures had taken back by the good graces of nature. Vah'lux couldn't help but wonder if she and the troupe were merely rats themselves in a sick blood sport for the entertainment of otherwise bored and sadistic monarchs who oversaw the land. A great joke at their expense even, as five strangers fight for their very lives while royalty dines in great halls far from the danger.

In retrospect, however, the Goliath's situation was no different from those years under the mud and shit-covered heel of the Orc slavers in Thraduum, their many lashes still felt, their angry screams and vicious taunts still rang through her mind. The dimming of hope was felt in the pit of her soul as each step was taken through the dark, cramped, and stench-filled corridor. Freedom. True freedom, was slowly becoming a distance memory.

Perhaps the dire wolf, her lost companion whom aided escape from the Orcs months prior, was faring much better. One could only hope they found the freedom that was so rightly deserved.

The blackened chest was seen up ahead in the expanse of the cellar, and the Goliath's first instinct was to steer as clear as possible from such a treasure, no matter how tempting it may seem to the desperate eye. A rose always has at least one thorn. She only hoped the others would share her sentiment.

The light from the lantern revealed the harshly carved out tunnels going in various directions, and what appeared to be remnants of nests and miscellaneous farm tools scattered about. But, inevitably, the group's invasion caught the attention of yet more of what was expected, and yet two of them were clearly larger and different.

"Agreed." Vah'lux nodded in acknowledgement to Renault's words as she kept the large hand axe at the ready, and before she knew it, the human holy warrior let out a battle cry as he attacked.

Vah'lux followed close behind, attacking one of the two larger dire rats as she let her weapon swing free toward the putrid creature.

Gorosk was thankful the attack had not begun until they were outside of the close quarters of the tunnel and in to the body of this cavern. There was no telling when the rats would come, the large ones looked like trouble. Had they rushed the party when they were lined up single file things may have turned out far worse. Granted, this had only just begun, they may still not survive the next ten minutes, but at least they had a fighting chance.

In the midst of the fight it was hard to tell precisely what was going on but it was simple enough to see that both of the bigger rats were still alive, though one was injured. Best to start there.

Gorosk grabbed his quarterstaff tightly in two hands and swung down on the beast.

The recoil shocked Gorosk's arms as his staff clapped the earth beneath them all, the sizable, wounded beast that angrily shrilled having dodged after taking the onslaught leveled at it. Of the axe, the sword, and the staff that sought to beat it into a furred pulp, only the sword fell upon it directly in the chaos. Hounded and besieged from all sides, it sprung back only for de Brey to heft his axe in both hands and swing a reverse blow with all the force in him. Whereas the beard of Vah'lux's weapon missed in this sense, de Brey's did not, and it sunk itself deep into the grey rat's throat - the creature's cry immediately went silent as the soldier pulled back, shoving the beast off with the face of his shield, smearing its blood across the livery in doing so.

One of the creatures felled, the elf jabbed her dagger at one of the smaller vermin at the flank but the rats were elusive. The focused assault had proven rewarding whee it landed but now with the point of the prisoners' thrust over, the rats swarmed back. The surviving grey monstrosity lunged at the paladin and almost threatened to bust his weakened leg beneath him and drag him to the ground, spared by the presence of the hunched giantess who loomed over and threatened to intervene, sending the counterattack recoiling. Another rat dove in from the side, teeth grazing the man's armor menacingly, and the last trading swipes of its sickly limbs and pointed claws at the elf who sidestepped them with wild grace.

The chaos was growing, as was the noise from the men's shouts on, first spurred forth by Beaumont then de Brey. Only now was the tide holding, one of the worst of the dire rats slipping away into a sickly red death where it laid on the ground. It was, to the absent minded prayer of Gorosk, just as the orc-monk had hoped; that things could have been far worse yet dared not there. At least not yet, for as they scurried back, shrill and sporting, the next attack was soon.


@BangoSkank@Hellion@Lord Wyron@TyrannosaursRex

---

The battle had begun in full force: a fight for territory. Were these rats invaders? Or reclamations of the land's original inhabitants? Their Elven companion likely would have argued towards the latter. The Elves' connection with nature was, for the most part, unbiased and impartial. All creatures had a function, a purpose, one bestowed upon them in a time before. But to the more zealous priests of Erithar, the reviled beasts of this world were a sort-of...scar tissue, for want of a better word. The sins of mortals inflicted wounds upon the earth, and from those wounds poured out insects, rodents, and parasites like a pus.

Having now witnessed his leading the charge, two more rats came at him from either side, foam and spittle at the edges of their rotten-toothed mouths. They could smell their own bite upon him: the stench of blood and raw flesh, carrying the hint of their distinct 'venom'.

The first attack came at him straight ahead. Renault's reflexes - dulled with pain, fatigue, and hunger - could not have anticipated the blow, but Vah'lux did, interceding herself between them to spurn the attack at the edge of her axe. It happened so fast, so seamlessly that it took Renault more than a moment to fully realize what had happened - and what the giantess had saved him from.

With no time to mutter thanks in the midst of battle, the second attack came at Renault's peripheral, focus ironically weakening his senses elsewhere. Though a cunning adversary, the rats lacked dexterity and direction. With a harsh scraping sound as the vermin's teeth carved against the metal scales of his armor, Renault twisted his upper body, raising sword arm and hoisting it over his head before making a broad diagonal sweep downward in hopes of nicking the rat in its no-doubt hasty attempt at escaping.

A flame as large as the homestead itself felt as though it was needed at this point, with what felt like an endless parade of putrid creatures, both great and small. The Goliath kept her eye on the second of the two larger dire rats, tracking its flurried motion as best she could in the chaos. Vah'lux had to maintain enough control in such a smaller space relative to her massive size, as allowing her weapons to flail wildly could result in one of her group getting hit.

In any case, she saw the opportunity to attack the rat and took it, and pulling back a muscular arm with the large ax gripped tightly, she swung the heavy blade down with as much accuracy as could be mustered from her kind hoping to split the creature in two and it's miserable existent.

Nature be damned. These filthy vermin do not belong.

The giantess had seriously wounded the second of the larger rats and Gorosk meant to finish it off. The smaller rats were bad enough, but the party had proven quite capable of stopping them. These bigger rats were more dangerous and perhaps even more so now that they were wounded and near death. An angry scared animal can be a very dangerous thing. Best to send it from this world before it does any serious damage.

Gorosk let the quarterstaff fall to ground and swung a hard overhand fist at the Dire Rat.

The crack of the quarterstaff on the ground as it fell was accompanied by the dull thud of the monster's head under the half-blood's fist. It's body gravely wounded by the chop of the goliath's handaxe, a weapon that appeared small only when wielded by her hands, it fell for good this time and did not stir even slightly. If the monk had finished the beast off or if it were merely in the process of dying when he struck none would ever be any the wiser - there would be no answer. As it slumped, one of the rats flung its filthy, snarling body past the dulled paladin whose blade missed, its menacing bite however small failing to strike the orcish man as he shouldered it back. Another failed attack, as was the one that led the fighter to swinging his axe again in a fell chop, only for an arrow to do the work for him, fired by the elf.

This left one lone dire rat that reared up, its beady eyes as wide as they could be, and in a moment it bolted to flee. It may well have been an animal but it was not stupid. It had seen and experienced the slaughter for itself and as it went to run, the wounded man and the giant of a woman found themselves at moment's notice prepared to swing. If it escaped, it might be gone for good, never to trouble them again, or many more rats might suddenly be upon them...

Yet there was no chance for it to, for as the holy warrior surging with need for redemption struck with lunging slash of his steely blade, his hit slowed the rat and hacked at its back. It fell, limp from the middle down, only to instantly be decapitated by the brutal hack of Vah'lux's axe. No more, it failed in its efforts.


@BangoSkank@Hellion@Lord Wyron@TyrannosaursRex

"“Thavaal!” The Goliath growled, pulling the bloodied ax blade from the stench-filled rat carcass, she was ready to take on yet another, her large heart pumping rapidly, and muscles tensed to slay more of the vile creatures that seemed to never end. But a quick glance by the light of Renault's lantern revealed none to be had. At least, none that wanted to pick a fight with the group, as any further rats that may have been seen prior to the fight scattered and vanished into the shadows. After a few moments of the realization, Vah'lux lowered her weapon, flicking her wrist enough to cause a good amount of the vermin's blood to fly off the blade and splatter to the dirt below.

Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she allowed focused breathing to slow the the quickened pace of her heart, and her mind. The Rage within wanting ever-so-eagerly to crawl out from its depths and destroy. But it was an anger and fighting prowess that could be stilled easily enough through training learned long ago. Training that kept her from becoming just another wild beast. But it hadn't been simply the fight which caused a spike, but also the underlying fear of being underground. Not a debilitating fear -thank Kavaki- but one of which urged her enough to want to get the hell out of the rat hole.

"Let us move." She grumbled, almost to herself, but enough so that her husky voice could be heard. The Goliath had no desire to linger any longer than was needed in a place full of nothing but death.

"What of the box Giant?" Gorosk asked now that the violence had ended and they were left once more among the broken corpses of the vermin. The chest looked old, worn, rusted, but intact. This struck Gorosk as odd, that amidst all the damage the rats had done this chest would remain untouched. Perhaps it was not as untouched as it first appeared. Gorosk would investigate it further.



He wanted to be done with this venture as much as the others, it was dark, dangerous, and Gorosk was eager to step into the light once more. He also however wanted to find out precisely what had happened here, if it were anything more than a pit these rats were particularly fond of. That would be somewhat reassuring, as worrying as it might be that something darker were afoot it would bring some small measure of relief to know that this loss was caused by something unusual. More unusual than vermin deciding they liked their home just fine.

---

'By the gods, I'm getting too old for this...' Renault's breathing was ragged and heavy as he - with certain effort - freed his blade from the dead carcass of the rat. Like ritual, he used the edge of his cloak to wipe away the blood and any other fluids that stained his blade. He would not have dared such a thing with the pristine white cloak he possessed in the Order. But the heavy cloak he wore now was of little consequence - no station attached to it. It kept him warm during cold nights and provided sanctuary in a thunderstorm.

For now, the party had stopped, and while Renault was thankful for the momentary rest, he was too on-edge to truly enjoy the reprieve. They were in what was presumably the heart of hostile territory. More rats were likely on their way, bigger and in greater numbers. They had weathered several waves now, yes, but how many more could they endure? Renault feared that age and tiredness were beginning to creep on him. His grip on his blade was looser, his swings sluggish and more predictable. Fatigue was the silent killer of many knights, forced to push the limits of their endurance until they nearly passed out from exhausted.

In that moment, Gorosk inquired about the strange, almost unsettling box that sat untouched and unharmed in the center of the chamber. Without the immediate threat of combat, the eeriness of the environment had settled in fully. A fearful uncertainty, so to speak. What was in this box? Why is it sitting here of all places? Why had the rats not broken through it?

"I don't trust it....stay on your guard." Renault warned, letting his sword fall at his side while being kept securely in his grasp.

The charred chest almost seemed to peer back at the half orc as he came close to its fireworn surface. Its hard, aged steel, its body buried in the dirt and debris of the rat's lair. It did indeed stand out, what with its rusted edges and being the only thing of any apparent value beyond the odds and ends the overgrown vermin had collected here. Yet as he seemed to investigate it, a hand reaching out to touch it, he paused instinctively at the call of the man behind him, a firm warning of "I don't trust it....stay on your guard."

Vah'lux had the scent of blood on her mind, the call of the hunt plucking at the back of her thoughts. It drove her to keep fighting, to find something to put her axe through in her fury in this cramped, foul place. It all too much reminded her of the pit the orcs sentenced her to at her youngest, fending off emaciated beasts, wounded prisoners, anything and everything to toughen her up for the real events. It was, rightfully, the type of thing that tried her spirit, her heart. This place of shadows in flickering lantern light and its wicked air, it called back to her place of traumatizing events past.

Her focus was briefly shifted as the man-orc stepped around the apparent mystery. It kept her grounded again while only serving the remind her that this was trivial work for her, let alone being trapped in literal burrows underground, scurrying like the animals she was tasked with slaying unlike the proud warrior she should be. Gorosk, however, was pleased to discover that so far as his eyes could pierce the darkness and the faint lantern light, no obvious signs of anything wrong made themselves evident with the chest. This was ignoring the refuse of old armor, weapons, grass, food, bone and rot that the rats had collected, of course. Regardless, it appeared the chest sunk in the mud was moved here with purpose and likely had its original resting place in the farmhouse, perhaps even hidden in the wall that led to this chamber now.

Calling out for the others to join him, only Tracan stood apart, idly holding her bow again and seemingly listening for the rats like a viper poised to strike.


@BangoSkank@Hellion@Lord Wyron@TyrannosaursRex

At the mention from the human Paladin, the Goliath did in fact keep her guard up, it was instinctive to say the least. She didn't trust the underbelly of the surface world. Not in the slightest. That was for the Dwarves, Gnomes, and other species whom found shelter and solace in such places. It seemed, in her experiences, that rarely didn't anything good outside of perhaps precious ore, and various other materials for crafting, came from the underground dwellings. Perhaps it was Thraduum that twisted her outlook. Most a pity.

At least the Elf had some sense to stay away. She mused, glancing at the wild creature who kept a watchful eye. It was in her blood as well. The warrior. The sentinel. Forever in the forefront of their minds.

Turning her attention to the others fixated on the chest, she did, however wonder just what could be so important inside such a small package. Or was it that innate feeling that they deserved a prize for their troubles? She shook her head and returned her gaze toward the tunnels.

As far as Vah'lux was concerned, the only "treasure" was survival.

Gorosk shared Renault's thoughts on the matter, and it seemed the others in the party felt much the same way. He was curious where the box came from, why it was here, and of course what precisely was in it, but now was not a good time to find out. The rats had been slain for the time being but they were still in this underground hovel with little real choice but to venture further in to it. Perhaps later on they might discover some indicator of what it held. Or perhaps it was just a box.

The Half Orc stepped back away from it, clapping Renault on the shoulder, saying some brief words of thanks for reminding him that they still faced many dangers and needed to be moving again. Gorosk joined the rest of the party, stepping over the fallen bodies of their fetid foes and prepared himself mentally for whatever might lurk around the next corner.

"I really, really hate rats." He mumbled massaging his fists.

---

Putting the chest and its mysterious contents behind him, Renault turned his focus to the tunnels that stretched out from the chamber they were in. Two seemed to lead back towards the farm and field, explaining the earlier ambush that first indicated they were not alone here. A third tunnel stuck out: one whose orientation shifted slightly downward. If any of these tunnels would lead to the heart of the nest, Renault was willing to bet what gold he had that this was it.

Absently checking the lantern to make sure they had enough oil to last - they did - Renault took point and hobbled towards the entryway, stopping before the threshold waiting for his companions to follow. "I've not heard of rats burrowing like this before." He muttered, part to himself and part to the others. It was true, the rat burrows he'd encountered were of smaller size, less ambitious construction. These tunnels wouldn't be out-of-place belonging to goblins or other such foul creatures who lived their desperate, scrounging lives underground. The very air here put Renault on edge: men were not meant to hide away from sun-and-sky.

"Let's move out, then, before we find ourselves trapped again." He spoke again, this time with more certainty in his voice. He wasn't looking forward to navigating the cramped tunnels, again, particularly with the looming threat of attack. But it would be harder for the rats to properly ambush a moving target.

With the potential of reward or further danger behind them, the investigating trio continued onward back to the other two who had remained on watch. There would be future time for the chest and whatever its contents were, if any at all, once they were done destroying the vermin that had indeed constructed such an elaborate domicile. In a way, one could almost feel sympathy for the creatures as Tracan did, that their lives and home were being destroyed as foul and odd little beasts as they were. They had done nothing but seemingly what nature commanded of them and the people of the Marches launched out in destruction of them and this land again. A vicious, terrible cycle of its own variety - surely having lived on this stead even might well have come with dealing with such alarmingly dangerous intrusions from time to time.

The lantern and oil set, still safely burning inside its cage, the push into the next tunnel which the rats had came and attempted to flee pulled them at a sharp angle down further. The earth here was lighter, harder, far more dense and much more gnawed by the teeth of the creatures, and soon fed into another chamber with many awaiting mouths - both literal and figurative. Many young rats, with their beady, ferocious eyes gleamed at them, as did their wardens. Two very large dire rats attended the nest and immediately went to its defense, followed by the even smaller though equally aggressive ones.

Like a surging horde of fur and flesh propelled upon skittering, pale feet, they charged with wild abandon at them, plunging in a charge. Beaumont only had a moment of hesitation before he dared pull up his shield to feel the first rat slam into him and almost knock him down, the frenzied clawing scraping at its steely face. Shunting the beast down with a slap of the shield once it slid off, he raised his sword to retaliate only to feel the biting pain of the other rat hunched around his balancing leg and its head latched on to his arm. Its sharp teeth digging at him, de Brey had the wherewithal to interpose himself as best he could and take on the tide of smaller deadly vermin as they hurried behind the warren's keepers.

Swiping them back at first, the other man in armor was accosted by the horde of six, who slipped in and around him, gnawing at a leg or two only to be kicked and thrown off, batted with the butt of the mace or the lip of a shield. Despite this, they had drawn blood from him but de Brey's heroics had spared the paladin from perhaps disappearing under the surge of gnawing, gashing fangs. While younger, it was clear they were as monstrous as their elders, and the way in which they besieged the soldier made it clear dispatching the larger threats sooner rather than later would be essential...


@BangoSkank@Hellion@Lord Wyron@TyrannosaursRex

The tunnel had led them deeper into the Earth and further from the light of day, as it pretty much had to, and the feel of the dirt beneath their feet changed. Were he more in tune with the underworld maybe Gorosk would have known what the change in texture or the change in smell meant, but he didn't until he saw it. They had found the nest, a writhing mass of diseased fur and flesh. A multitude of young rat and two very large dire rats. Had they time to think about it perhaps they might have figured out a better way to deal with the situation, but the mass of flesh propelled itself toward them. Dozens of scrawny thin skinned feet skittering across the dirt and hungry mouths opening for them, baring teeth.

The tide of vermin broke upon Beaumont first, who did his best to protect himself with his shield but seemed to have taken another wound. The other man, de Brey, was next to lose blood to the sea of filth that seemed to fill the space around them so suddenly. He fought with shield and mace and seemed to help Beaumont from being washed away.

It was too much for Gorosk. At the back of the group it was difficult for him to help and that was likely the straw that broke the camels back. Enough of seeing his new friends bleed, enough of being underground, and enough of this stupid job. Gorosk pushed up around the group to the front, sought out one of the dire rats, grit his teeth and tried to hit it with all the strength he could muster.

---

Any doubts Renault might have had about the rats' intelligence were swiftly allayed when one of the larger vanguards clamped its rotten jaws around his sword arm, sending waves of sharp, shooting pain all the way up his arm and shoulder. The scale armor he wore was decent for skirmishers; combining a decent amount of defense without hindering mobility, but that came at the cost of leaving his arms comparatively unprotected. While Renault was uncertain whether the rat's teeth had chewed through the scales or not, he was all-but-certain that the skin was broken.

Now forced to hold his arm outstretched, blade pointed aloft, Renault at first tried to simply shake the wretched thing off, but found that he wasn't able to build up enough speed or intensity to do anything more than mildly jerk it about, only grinding its teeth further into his flesh. With a cry of pain in his throat that escaped his grit teeth in a hissing seethe, Renault instead tried to bash the edge of his shield against the rat with any strength his free arm could muster. He knew that, distracted as he was, he was at greater risk of being overwhelmed and waylaid by even the smallest of the brood. His compatriots would certainly help, but a helpless soldier could be more trouble than he was worth.