"Sewers?" Quarrel-Karn guessed, shaking the water from his sword and reasserting the flames on his head, which had sputtered out when he'd passed through the waterfall.

"Probably," Shakairra replied. "Though they haven't been used in decades."

"Sixty-four years," Gundar confirmed, wringing the water from his robe.

Quarrel-Karn frowned. "How do you know that?"

"I'm quite learned in history."

"So am I."

"Can we continue?" Rain asked, the dark scales receding from her face.

Quarrel-Karn studied her. When he'd called her a beast, it was because she'd displayed nothing but the savagery and simple-mindedness of wild barbarians, but now... "How did you find this place?"

She shrugged with a pleased smile. "I opened my eyes and the spirits guided me."

Shakairra gave her a strange look. "Did opening your eyes involve becoming reptilian?"

"It's the form of the dread serpent. Each warden can take on the characteristics of a beast or plant spirit to grant them a closer connection to the spirits."

"Warden?"

Rain rested her hammer on her shoulder. "A chosen protector of the wild lands, a guardian of nature."

"I thought those were barbarians."

She shook her head. In the dark gloom of the ancient sewers her bestial face looked more wolf than human. "Barbarians fight a tribe's wars, druids hunt with the beasts whose form they take, and shamans speak for the spirits. Wardens are a new type of warrior. We've risen to combat the spawning civilizations and cities that taint and drain the land."

"Like...goblins?"

Rain smiled. "Like goblins, yes."

Shakairra squinted down the tunnel. "Anyone have a torch?"

"Here." Quarrel-Karn poured arcana through his sword, the only comfort he found in a place like this with such a company. The sword glimmered and glowed, bringing the sun's light to the dark cavern to illuminate the faces of the tiefling he mistrusted, the deva he didn't understand, and the shifter he now feared.

"Survivors," Rain warned, pointing to the ground. Spaced tracks left by little running feet scattered the ground. "They ran this way."

The sewer was just wide enough for them to walk single-file. Quarrel-Karn took the front, leading the way with his shining sword. Rain was right behind him, followed by Shakairra, with Gundar bringing up the rear. The tunnel was riddled with twists and turns and rats and funky smells. Black holes in the walls just large enough for little goblins to squeeze through glared at them, but they largely ignored them, even though many of the tracks led through such openings. They walked for what seemed like miles in silence before Rain perked up and slowed their pace. Quarrel-Karn dimmed the light coming from his sword, then turned it off completely when they came upon the first torches sticking out of the walls through holes bashed into the rock.

The tunnel stretched on and on, but there was a fork in the road after just a few minutes. They could either continue straight and follow the trail of little torches or could take the sharp left in front of them. That passage had a deer's hide covering it, and within were sounds of goblins squabbling and arguing.

Quarrel-Karn let Rain pass so should could sneak a peak into the room. When she pulled out, she smiled, and whispered in his ear, "No non-combatants. Fifteen warriors, two minor shamans."

When the message was passed, Quarrel-Karn hopped deftly to the other side of the deerhide door with Shakairra at his heels. At her nod, he sliced open the hide and burst into the room, charging the first goblin his eyes fell upon.

It was said there was a special connection between a swordmage and his blade, a magic bond that allowed the swordmage to cast his spells. Those who said it were correct. Quarrel-Karn's sword sang as he sliced through rusted mail and leather and flesh. It was almost as sweet a music as the goblin's screams.

Shakairra came roaring after him, landing right beside him as her trident impaled the first victim's buddy. He didn't see Rain, but Quarrel-Karn heard her bash another goblin to his right, and saw him fly through the air and slam into the stone wall before one of Gundar's crystalline orbs shattered against a fourth goblin, tearing him and everyone near him to pieces.

Once inside the room, Quarrel-Karn got a second to observe his surroundings. It wasn't part of the sewers; the goblins had taken shovels and pickaxes to the stone to create this room, which was a sleeping area, given the smelly pelts and strange, homey objects piled around, making for a bumpy terrain. There were now about ten goblin warriors left, scrambling for some sort of order as they tried to protect the two shamans in the back of the room. Both were less decorated than the one that'd led the attack on Loudwater, but they both had twisted rods and they both aimed them at Rain. Ribbons of acid flew from the ends. Rain raised her giant, thick shield and got slammed, the force of the combined magical blasts blowing her off her feet.

Quarrel-Karn moved to help her, but found his way blocked by goblins. He poured magic into his blade and hacked at the first. Green flames sprouted from the huge sword and engulfed the next two, but it wasn't fast enough. A bone spear sliced through his shoulder, cutting through the light cloth and magic that shielded him, as two swords came down on Rain.

Gundar blasted one of the sword-wielders with a ray of searing light that burned through flesh and bone. Shakairra stabbed the goblin that'd gotten Quarrel-Karn's shoulder as he gritted his teeth and pulled the spearhead out. That arm was useless now, and he wasn't strong enough to wield his giant sword with one hand.

But I can burn that other goblin that killed Rain, he thought, and was about to bull through the line of goblins in his path and do just that when a harsh, low growl filled his ears and the cavern trembled.

The wind picked up. How that happened several feet underground Quarrel-Karn didn't know, but a breeze swirled around them, kicking up pelts and distracting the goblin with the sword until Rain kicked him in the gut.

"By the Nine Gates," Shakairra breathed as Rain shot to her feet with a snarl.

All friendliness was gone from those golden eyes; her face was twisted and fierce, like that of some savage beast. Blood drenched her leather armor, but the two fatal wounds that hadn't quite killed her glowed green with a type of power Quarrel-Karn couldn't recognize. It wasn't the finger-tingling arcana or the heart-stirring divine. This was something that went much deeper, that was here before even the gods had walked the earth, and it was sealing Rain's wounds and his own, too. He felt a breath of fresh and invigorating air course through his body as his fiery energy lines took on a greenish hue and the ravaging wound on his shoulder clotted, mended, sealed.

He grabbed his sword with both hands and swung it on the next goblin's head, fires roaring from the attack as Rain gave that bone-chilling howl of hers and slammed the sword-wielding goblin with her shield, blowing him straight into Shakairra's trident. Three goblins left the genasi and tiefling to form a line between this mad shifter and their shaman masters. Rain the She-Wolf gave a vicious smile that turned reptilian as black scales sprouted from her body and she slipped right past them and slashed at the nearest shaman with her axehead.

There were five left for Quarrel-Karn and Shakairra. The tiefling took a knife graze to the thigh and responded with narrowed golden eyes and a burst of flame from within the attacking goblin. Quarrel-Karn was gaining a new appreciation for tieflings as he slashed at another foe, stepping in front of Shakairra as he did so she would have a minute to recover. One of Gundar's crystal orbs took care of the rest.

Rain's shield took another beating at the uninjured shaman tried spraying her with acid again. The injured one had taken a blow to the side of his torso, but even from here Quarrel-Karn could see the wound was blackening and had a sickly smell. He shifted away from Rain, saw him and Shakairra, and a huge gust of acid was hurled at them both. Quarrel-Karn rolled out of the way while the tiefling raised her small shield. The acid persisted, and Quarrel-Karn could see purple veins sprouted along Shakairra's forehead as she tried to keep the shield in place. "Gundar, this is you!"

Quarrel-Karn turned to the shamans and pointed to the injured one. A stream of arcana connected the two of them, his mark emblazoned on the shaman's chest in harmless fire that created a gateway for him to go through, taking one step here and appearing over there. Yet before he could do that, the strangest sight occurred.

A great pillar of light appeared behind the two shamans, and out stepped a humanoid figure wrought of flames, a dwarf, perhaps. Quarrel-Karn couldn't quite figure out what it was until it spread its great wings, and he realized Gundar had summoned a minor, female angel of Moradin.

The angel raised her hammer and slammed it against the shaman's back, breaking his stream of acid. The uninjured shaman paled at the sight, turned, and attempted to run. The angel bashed her hammer into his leg, flames leaping from the weapon as the shaman yelped at his broken bones and burned flesh and was silenced forever when the angel brought her hammer upon his head.

When the poisoned shaman saw that he was alone, he dropped his wand and slumped against the wall, squeaking, "Yield."

Quarrel-Karn turned back to Gundar filled with wonder and astonishment at this great power...and ran to catch him before the deva fainted. After lifting the great blue man up and then setting him against a pile of hides, Quarrel-Karn touched his shoulder. "You all right?"

"I am...unhurt," he huffed, rubbing his sweaty brow. "Thank you."

"Gundar."

The angel's voice was ethereal and echoed as she began to fade. She said something in a flowing, perfect language Quarrel-Karn couldn't comprehend-and could only think it was Angelic-before she vanished completely.

He turned back to Gundar, who had a strange, enlightened look on his face. "What did she say?"

"It is...it does not concern this. Us. As of yet."

Quarrel-Karn studied him for a good long moment, then decided that the deva was entitled to his secrets. He hadn't almost killed a child today, which was more than Quarrel-Karn could say.

Shakairra turned to the surviving shaman as Rain-still in her dread serpent form-leered over him with her hammer. The tiefling's voice was harsh, merciless, and demanding. "How many others are there?"

The goblin had this queer smile on his face, as if death suddenly didn't bother him anymore. "The Great One. You will have to face him."

"How many guards does he have?"

The goblin shrugged.

"All right, let's try this: how did your people get the firepowder to blow down our wall?"

"Trade."

"What did you trade?"

Quarrel-Karn saw the movement too late; one of the warriors that had been bashed by Rain's hammer wasn't fully dead, and was on his feet running. "Shak-!"

A blast of lightning from behind cut him off. Shakairra whirled around in time to see the charred corpse of the goblin warrior collapse at her feet.

She stared at Quarrel-Karn, who stared at Gundar, who stared at the shadow fleeing down the hall.

"Finish him," Shakairra barked before running across the room and out into the passage.

The shaman lost his courage. "Wait!"

Rain did not wait. With a swipe of her axehead his head went rolling as she followed Shakairra at a dead sprint. Quarrel-Karn stayed just long enough to help Gundar to his feet before hurrying after them, following the trail of torches before he almost ran into Rain and Shakairra, who'd come to a dead stop.

There were two doors. The one at the very end of the hall was steel and barred on this side. The other was on the left and made of wood with an iron lock.

There, kneeling in front of that iron lock and picking at it with a knife, was a drow.