Galloway had a job for us all right.

He’d been monitoring the elven migration to Rhuobhe and is hoping for work if the Manslayer is indeed making a move. The neighboring countries will surely want the army there to prevent a possible attack. The prospect of fighting a legion of gheallies does not sit well with me and I can tell the rest of the group is not thrilled by the idea either.

Galloway sent us north to where one of his insiders found to be the source of the wererats (conveniently on the northern route elves from Tuarhievel would use to get to Rhuobhe). This was supposedly the warren where all the rats were coming from.

Travel was swift and in no time we arrived at our destination no time. The warren was well guarded and tried to devise a clever plan to get in with little problem. Govannon tried some illusionary work, but either it wasn’t terribly convincing or they were ready for possible intruders. We resorted to our specialty: focused attacks on leaders and quick and brutal dispatching of lesser targets. Aside from some trouble with larger dire rats, we were able to disable the outside forces.

We moved inside, wasting very little time, hoping to catch the rats unaware of what had happened on the battlements. We were assaulted with swarm after swarm of vermin and their wererat controllers. Wave after wave, they came at us. We finally were able to clear our backfield and move farther into the warren. Already our resources were running thin and a sense of urgency is running through to the group. Get to the heart of the warren, kill the rat king, and get out alive. Quick thinking and a long hallway aided us to meet the rats in what we’ve loving termed as the “meat grinder” to keep our backs clear and focus at the waves coming toward us.

Our brief rest is almost over. I just hope we can outlast them…