>>5524630>>5524631>>5524633>>5524651>>5524673>>5524688>>5524734>>5524743>>5524749>>5524790>>5524829>Flee with the mossfolk and gnome as your lady instructed.You decide it best to re-group, re-assess, and re-rat.
You sweep the rat (and the gnome, you suppose) up in your arms, their forms near indiscernible in the smog that blankets the area and stings your eyes. You can only just breathe in the haze of incense fumes from the thurible. You need only drag them out to the mossfolk, and–..
“<span class="mu-g">Chaos Bolt.</span>” The wizard’s voice seems to come from the very air around you. You can hear the sound of crackling lightning, rushing water, roaring fire and twisting flesh somewhere in the haze, but you can’t quite orient yourself to face it–it takes all your effort to squint through to see your feet. You feel a presence at your back.
It is the wild woman, now out of her daze and, with a swing of her trunk-like arms, scooping you up in her arms (near breaking a few of your ribs). The witch and yourself in her arms, the rat and gnome at her back, she bolts from the market hall and down into the sewers ahead. You can just make out the tall, belfry-like figure of the wizard through the haze as you make from the scene.
[...]
“Hm.. Even more useful than a dog, perhaps.” Sigrid glances at the now resting wild woman, wiping the incense-like haze from the robe. You’ve found shelter in a small, faraway room in the black market, out of use and relatively quiet–it’s a tight fit and pipes cut through the half of it, but it affords your party some brief modicum of respite from the outside.
“Ackh..! Stupid THOUSAND CUTS ASSHOLE..!” Bredbeddle kicks a pipe, a handful of rats watching her.
>Propose traveling through the city streets instead of the sewer markets.>Question Bredbeddle as to how much she knows about that assassin.>Check in with Molly and Bredbeddle to see if they’re alright after that fear spell.>Write-In. 