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"But…" Jordan stutters. "Shouldn't we at least try to grab one of them if we're heading back anyway?"

You shake your head. "The longer we wait, the more likely Qui sets up a charge. He wasn't exactly a picture of patience back there. And we don't even know for sure if we can take those two Warlocks on by ourselves, especially after they've been setting up wards. If we get captured or destroyed, there won't be anyone left to warn the others. Bouchard's scouts don't seem to care about the Tremere one way or the other—it looks like they have their own agenda."

"Damn," Jordan says. "I guess you're right. Let's get moving before it's too late."

Next

Qui watches your faces grimly as you return with news of the Tremere ambush. "You're sure they said they were setting up wards?"

You nod. "But they didn't say what kind."

"It's easier to ward against mortals," Jordan says. "But it sounded like they were working together, trying to cast something powerful."

The Sheriff cracks his knuckles. "If they can take us out before the fighting starts, they'll be able to mop up our mercs to the north without much of a problem." He turns to Bouchard. "Do you know another way into this branch of the sewers? One that not many other Kindred know about?"

The Sewer Rat makes a show of pondering for a moment. "I know of one. It's cramped, but we could make it through if we go in two-by-two."

"So they can pick us off in a choke point?" Kashif says with a sniff. "Absurd."

"Do you have a better idea?" Jordan asks. Kashif goes silent.

"The tunnel it is, then," Bouchard says. He doesn't seem all that happy about it, but you can tell that news of the ambush has him anxious. Blood Sorcery wards can be deadly to even the most ancient Kindred, especially if the affected vampire is attacked while they're writhing in agony.

"I agree," Qui says, shaking his head. "I know when to admit that I'm wrong. We need a full picture of what we're heading into before we move out."

"Finally," Bouchard says. "Common sense prevails." The Sewer Rat places his gnarled hand on the brick wall and taps his long fingernails in a staccato rhythm, like he's signaling to something. "I have links to the creatures in the walls," he says by way of explanation. It leaves you with more questions, but further answers don't seem to be forthcoming. "My scouts are on their way back. Be ready to move." It doesn't take long for you to understand why Bouchard's hidden tunnel has remained a secret until now. Not only does the cramped passage wind this way and that as though it were laid in the earth by a drunk with no understanding of water runoff or efficiency, but the ceiling is so low that you need to crouch almost into a sitting position to move forward, all but crawling through a wet, moldy layer of slime. Only the sharp, artificial light of LED lamps on the mercenaries' helmets holds total darkness at bay, their constant bobbing and shifting playing havoc with the jittery shadows of the two ghoulish Nosferatu ahead of you. Even after years surviving in the sewers, you're just about at your limits. You can't imagine how the more aristocratic members of your hunting party feel. You just count yourself lucky that you don't have to breathe; the mortals among your party must be seriously reconsidering their life choices.

Jordan stops ahead and you can hear a whisper passing its way back from person to person. "Almost out. Larger room ahead. Stay quiet and move slowly." You pass the word on to Lucca and continue to shuffle along until you feel the ceiling blissfully ascend. Finally, you can walk upright again! It's hard to keep from gasping an audible groan of relief.

"We're here," Bouchard gurgles. "Just west of the rooms beneath Parliament."

Sewage runs in rivulets down the crags of Qui's face as he commands his mercenaries with frenzied hand gestures into some semblance of order. In a matter of minutes, the hunting party is ready to march into battle. "They'll know we're coming by now," the Sheriff warns. "Their gifts might not let them read the future, but they can sense which way the winds are blowing. Be ready for anything."

Uuntezazk skitters through the pipe from the other side of the room, wriggling to shake off the sewage from his fur. "Caught up at last!" he says. "Many of your kind ahead! Dead smell, and they reek of blood!" He shivers with distress. "Didn't stay long to watch them."

"You're bonded with the creature?" Bouchard asks. You nod as Uuntezazk skitters away toward the back of the group.

"Yes. But he's not much for fighting." You raise your voice to the others. "The enemy is up ahead. My rat saw many of them, but he doesn't know if they're ready for us or not."

Qui nods. "That just confirms my suspicions. They know we're here, but we're in no position to back down. Let's move out. Watch the shadows; they could be anywhere."