The Ratwarrens, as they are known locally, appear under a different name on any Duchy map, but it is not one spoken by the locals. They are a series of natural caves and tunnels worn out by the multitudes of underground streams that flow through this region. The caves run for miles in all directions. Mixed up with these are the remains of a Dwarven mining village- long since abandoned by that race. It is believed that the Dwarves originally panned for gold in these hills, but migrated north over the generations to their current homeland where there where richer pickings. The Dwarves took most of their valuables with them of course, and other mortals of an adventurous bend have long since looted anything they left behind over the centuries.
The place now has an evil reputation. The lower caves have become home to all kinds of animal life- Trolls, bears, wolves, lynxes and mountain lions all lurk there, as well as various subterranean nasties. The old Dwarven workings are regularly used as hideouts for bandits, drop places for freelance smugglers and resting places for humanoid raiders from the north. The place is littered with old traps set up by various paranoid thugs and the Dwarves themselves, and the old workings have become deeply unstable. Worse, a decade ago a huge spell battle between a group of Clerics of Vecna and a Pit Fiend they'd misummoned devastated the whole area. The remains of that battle still contaminate the centre of the maze, with rumours of zombies and worse still haunting it's interior.
Carmina blinked as her memories of the scroll cut off and returned her to reality. The door had opened and a Hobbit maid had hurried in and was mopping up the mess from the rug. Pretzel was cocking an amused eyebrow at the shock on the adventurer's faces. The others hadn't moved, although a smile now creased the Terrier's face.
Torfindel eventually looked up and croaked "Why do you want us to go into that place?!"
Pretzel smiled laconically and said "Yesterday we arranged a delivery of mushrooms of a particularly potent kind for a customer of ours. They were being stored in the sewers, not far from here, but as you know, the sewers run down to the warrens. This morning our customer turned up to take delivery and found the mushrooms gone and the guards butchered. Orc tracks where discovered leading deeper underground and we promised to recover the delivery. Unfortunately this current stand-off with our Kostunitsa cousins meant we needed to keep our strength here. Instead I dispatched a human mercenary we sometimes employed on their trail, but as you know I have heard nothing from him all day. Your 'mistake' brought you to my attention, and Minty here suggested that there were enough of you to be let loose in the tunnels to search for them. It's an ideal solution for us really. Our positions in town aren't compromised, we are at least attempting to fulfil our word to General Gaurdos, and if you do die then you'll have been soundly punished. A win-win situation really."
"Yar," croaked Torfindel unintelligibly.
Zorro, ever practical in matters concerning culling Orcs broke in unexpectedly.
"How many are there?" he piped up.
"We suspect that there are between eight and a dozen of them left," answered Pretzel grimly "They can't have gone far- the workings around here have been cut off from the rest of the warrens when we filled in the only linking tunnel a couple of years back. The only ways in are all above ground, where they'll not dare to travel by daylight. We're not that far north. We think they may have some sort of shrine down there and they may be hiding out down there for a few days."
"They might not even be there then!" objected Ieannia "For all you know they're just waiting for night to run for it!"
"Well then, if I were you, I'd get searching," sneered Minty "Your guards will lead you to the entrance. You'll be given your weapons back once you reach there."
"Oh, and Mr Torfindel, if you can't find the mushrooms, don't bother coming back up will you?" said Pretzel "It would be very inconvenient to have to take time off my busy schedule to oversee your ritual dismemberment."
He gestured at the Hobbit guard sergeant who looked at the party resignedly for a moment before turning and barking out orders. The hapless adventurers where herded out of the office and back through the now drowsy hall where they were joined by three more Hobbits carrying their gear. Sighing, the Hobbit leader gestured them to cross the courtyard once more.
In the office Minty Ice-cream turned to Pretzel waving a new report. "There's been a development with their wizard," she said excitedly.
Pretzel cocked his eyebrow again. "Do tell," he said.
"She was last seen talking to some mad half-breed priest just before our bashers swept up the rest of them," began Minty excitedly "We've identified the priest- one Ronald Krup. We broke into his place but it was deserted- and it had been cleaned out to. No clothes, money, food, bags or weapons inside the place. We don't think they've skipped town together yet though, and we've put a watch on the place. Perhaps she's planning a rescue attempt with some hired muscle?"
"Of course she is," said Pretzel "I'm rather hoping she will. The more of them down there the better. Now then, onto the next item. Although what that has to do with a priest I'm not altogether certain."
There was a pounding on the door. Minty hurried over and opened it slightly. A whispered conversation followed and she returned to Pretzel.
"Archdeacon Aldred wants more cash for his temple if we want to continue having his Mad Monks guard our convoys," stated she, pale-faced.
"Does he indeed? Ah well, do show him in my dear," said Pretzel to his secretary, who had appeared trembling in the doorway.
"No rest for the wicked Miss Ice-cream."