Kami’s first thought upon glimpsing the scene beyond the curtain was that all her companions were soon going to die. Even, she suspected, the great cat Destiny. Probably not Kami herself, because she was not certain she could die any longer. Yet all the rest were doomed.

Alone, the primitive, stunted ratfolk were not particularly dangerous, much like rats themselves. Yet, also like commonplace rats, it seemed they were rarely alone.

The group had moved warily and quietly through a tunnel, following Destiny’s lead, to where the panther said the ratfolk were gathered. They’d reached a wide opening, blocked by not one but two tattered blankets arrayed side by side. Though so far Emah’s torch had been their only light in the underground warrens, surprisingly light flickered from behind the edges of the cloth. Not only light, though… Beyond the doorway they could hear the chittering and squeaking of what sounded like dozens of ratfolk. Perhaps more. The smell here was almost overpowering as well, like wet animals and feces crawling into her nose and down her throat. She stopped breathing, something she only recently realized she could do. The implications of not needing to breathe unnerved her, but it was—like so many other events from recent weeks—something left contemplated for a later time.

As they pushed the cloth gently aside, the group was confronted by an enormous chamber, perhaps fifty or more strides across and deep, and half that high. The walls of the place were packed hard, almost sculpted, and great wooden scaffolding was arrayed to support the ceiling and walls. Four wooden pillars, severed tree trunks with carved markings of some kind across their entire length, stood sentinel from floor to ceiling, giving the place the feeling of a temple or grand amphitheater. It was difficult to tell whether the ratfolk horde had found this place and built their warren around it, or whether this vast space had been their most ambitious work. Either way, it was an impressive gathering hall, especially so deep below the surface.

Against the wall to their left sat a raised, earthen dais, and atop it was a large wooden carving like the one they’d seen in the ratfolk bedchamber: A naked man with the head and tail of a rat. The statue stood fully twice as high as Kami, roughly hewn but impressive still in its menace and power. At the statue’s base stood a ratfolk in tattered robes, waving its furred and clawed hands rhythmically as it chittered. Two torches had been thrust into the earth on either side of the robed creature. Between them, at the ratfolk’s feet, sat the bejeweled box Kami had seen in Sami Suttar’s home. The torchlight caused the gems and gold to glitter hypnotically, casting dancing shadows all around the vast chamber.

Filling the chamber from the base of the dais throughout the rest of the room was a horde of ratfolk, arms raised and chittering in unison with the figure on the stage. A handful of other robed figures stood swaying closest the dais, and behind them amassed creatures like the ones they’d fought and killed several times the past day—each the size of a child, hunched and furred, with rat-like heads and beady eyes, claws tipping their long fingers and toes. They wore stained scraps of clothing, none alike. Finally, littered at the perimeter of the crowd, were several of the more hulking creatures like the one that had tackled Maly outside of the jail the previous day. Everything about these other ratfolk was stronger, larger, and more savage, almost like comparing a wolf to a domesticated dog. Unlike everyone else in the room, these rat-brutes prowled the crowd, black eyes overlooking their shorter brethren and scanning the chamber.

In all, it was a dizzying and overwhelming scene. Kami would not have been surprised to discover that a hundred in all of the creatures were in this chamber, this temple to some rat god far below Oakton. She could not even begin to fathom what it all meant, or what ritual or rite the robed priest atop the dais was performing. Kami wondered, in a brief flicker, what lay in the opened bejeweled box that she could not see, and why these primitive creatures had been so willing to die to obtain it.

Then she had no time to consider anything but survival.

The nearest large, savage ratfolk whipped its head towards them as they gathered beyond the curtained doorway. Then, with a snarl, it leapt at Emah. The Kaleen warrior raised her sword in a flash, intercepting the attack and sidestepping. Meanwhile, the ratfolk nearest them turned away from the chanting upon the dais and began chittering excitedly, pointing and moving closer to them.

“What!?” Maly whispered harshly, though no one had spoken. Kami guessed that the woman was once again having a one-sided conversation with the great, black cat. “You’re crazy! Okay. Okay! Just… Keep them safe and I’ll be back!”

Then, to Kami’s shock and horror, the pale-skinned woman dove into the onrushing crowd, tumbling and disappearing within the horde.

She had no time to ask what the fool mercenary was thinking or to help. Instead, at the speed of thought her arms lengthened wide. Like a mother embracing her oncoming children, Kami’s arms enfolded three of the nearest creatures, then closed tight. She could feel their small, furred bodies crack in her grip. They shrieked and shuddered briefly before falling still, and Kami dropped them to the dirt floor.

Near her, Emah pulled a blood-slicked blade from the side of the hulking ratfolk that had been grappling with her, its body now lifeless. The panther Destiny was savaging two of the smaller creatures, one already dead in its jaws and another squirming weakly beneath its claws.

That was fast, Kami thought proudly. The other ratfolk near them had their backs turned still, swaying and chittering and focused on the dais. Perhaps we can all survive this room, after all. If we can stay silent back here, we can make a plan. But… where is Maly?

Her eyes scanned the crowd, amazed that she could miss the Stone Islander amidst a sea of small, furred ratfolk. Kami thought that perhaps she spied a jostle of movement in the weak, flickering light, rats chittering in surprise as they were pushed aside. But before she could be sure, the robed figure on the dais stopped its swaying. Its dark, beady eyes focused on the back of the crowd, where Kami, Emah and the panther stood, and pointed a clawed finger. More loudly than it had been chanting, the figure chittered something defiant and sharp.

The entire crowd turned as one to regard them.

“Well… shit,” Emah gulped.

Next: Issue 3 Reflections!