Zo’Dal followed a few paces behind Fel as they made their way down the black stone stairs. Each step brought a fresh twinge of pain from her injured knee and her palms stung incessantly. Fel hadn't said anything, but from the slight limp he moved with, he hadn’t walked away from the fall completely unscathed either. Zo’Dal had felt a twinge of guilt at that.

They had paused briefly at the arched chamber and cistern, and she had wrapped strips of cloth cut from her sleeves around her palms to bandage the cuts from her ill-fated climb. To Zo'Dal's dismay, Fel knelt and drank his fill of the dark water, scooping it greedily into his palms and drinking deeply. Then, he filled their bottles, those that he had recovered from the discarded equipment of the crematorium, and held one out to her.

She had eyed the battle warily, but was suddenly very aware of her own thirst, how faint she felt, the ache in her head and muscles, the sweat clinging to her body and the cloying air, and couldn't remember when she had last had anything to drink.

"Drink." Fel had said.

Seeing that he had drunk and not bent double, retching, or suffered any other immediate ill effect, she could resist the temptation no longer, took the bottle, and hesitantly raised it to her lips. She had been surprised by how clear and cool the water was, as fresh as any she had tasted, and fresher still than any water that could be drawn from the river Ivonne. Soon, any pretense of caution was gone, and she had thirstily emptied the bottle until she too had drunk her fill. After she had refilled it and returned it to Fel to stow in his bag, they carried on.

Now, they trudged down the stairs, led by the lantern held aloft in Fel’s hand. The way the flickering orange light glinted off the polished black stone reminded Zo’Dal of her missing necklace. She would have to find it, no, she would find it, before leaving this place.

The stairs seemed to go on forever, stretching into the dark abyss below and, when she glanced behind, above. With each step, it was as if the darkness and the black stone swallowed up the place where they had just been. Zo’Dal couldn't help but feel a sense of dreadful finality with each step, that there could be no turning back, that there would be nowhere to turn back to. Time seemed to stop in that seemingly endless progression of identical polished steps and walls, and she was no longer sure how long they had been descending, or if they were moving anywhere at all. After a while, she began to wonder if she would ever reach the bottom, or if the stairs descended all the way to the underworld.

After descending some distance, the stairs briefly leveled into a wide landing before plunging down again. Zo’Dal gripped her club tightly, despite the pain it caused her scraped hand, and her eyes flitted about the darkness at the edges of the flickering lantern light. Fel had his sword in his right hand.

Finally, the base of the stairs came into view and Zo’Dal saw that it continued forward in an equally-wide corridor, its walls lined with tremendous columns, its ceiling high and arched. The floor was made of large square tiles of polished black stone, the same stone as the stairs. It appeared as if the place had been built for giants, rather than mere mortals. To her surprise, a second passage opened immediately on the left side, proceeding forward at an angle. This second passage was similar in appearance, but even larger, a full ten feet wider. As she reached the last step, she looked upward, scanning the stone arches that stretched up into the gloom overhead, peering into the shadows for danger and taking in the scale of the space. There was a strange beauty to this place that she hadn't expected after creeping through the featureless stone tunnels above.

—

Without a thought, Fel lowered himself into a guard and raised his blade towards the creatures. They skirted the edge of the light, shadows the size of large dogs skittering across the stone, beady yellow eyes almost glowing in the darkness. He was only a few paces from the stairs now, and slowly, he backed towards them trying to put some space between himself and the creatures. He kept his blade raised and his eyes fixed on the enemy before him. They matched his movement, scuttling forward as the light receded, maintaining their distance.

His back foot bumped against the first step and he risked a glance back quickly to make sure Zo’Dal was still behind him. She was only a few steps above, but he almost missed her. Despite standing mere feet from the lantern, she appeared half-sunken in darkness, as if, by some trick of the light, the shadows behind them had simply flowed forward and begun to swallow her up.

He turned back to the creatures, unwilling to turn his focus from them for more than an instant.

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“Rats,” Zo’Dal said, her voice little more than a whisper, “Really big ones.”

“How many?” He kept his blade raised, locking eyes with the beasts as if to dare them to attack.

“Seven, maybe more.”

Fel scowled. Those were bad odds, especially in such an open space. Even injured and tired as he was, he figured he could take three or four of the beasts, but seven? That was too many, even if Zo’Dal could account for one of them herself, and that was doubtful. They might be able to retreat and hold the creatures at bay in the more confined tunnels above. But, that might only end in them being trapped in the upper level, and their only way out would be Zo’Dal attempting to climb out again. No, his only way forward, his only way to freedom, was through the monsters, and he wasn't going to be stopped by a handful of rats.

“Remain behind me.” He said to Zo’Dal, and took a step forward.

The creatures recoiled from the lantern at first, then, as if sensing the challenge, they shifted and surged forward. Rats the size of large dogs burst forward into the light, lips pulled back in snarls of yellowed fangs, matted grey fur bristling, and fleshy pink tails thrashing as they charged.

With a shout, he brought his blade down on the head of the lead beast as it closed, splitting open its skull. He slew the second with a cut that opened up it's flank, backing up the stairs to gain space. Then the others were upon him, biting and clawing at his legs and leaping at his arms. He used the lantern to bludgeon aside a snapping maw that leapt at his arm. Shadows danced violently about the chamber with each cut and dodge, cast by the waving lantern and surge of bodies. In the corner of his vision, he saw a flash of movement, a ghost rushing down the steps and into the melee, and only barely registered it as Zo’Dal.

He fought furiously, kicking and stabbing to drive them back, trying to back up the stairs, but he couldn't hold them all at bay. After wasting away so long in captivity, his movements felt slower, and the unfamiliar blade felt heavier than they should have. Claws and teeth raked at his boots and arms as he struggled to hold them at bay. One of the giant rats slipped past his guard and sunk its fangs deep into his leg. Fel let out a cry of pain and staggered, nearly tripping on the stairs and being dragged down by the creature’s weight. He plunged his sword down into its spine, and it fell back, dead.

Fel stumbled back a step and Zo’Dal was suddenly beside him, swinging at one of the remaining beasts with her club. Fel cut down another rat with a clumsy but lucky blow as it leapt up at him, and he turned to shout to Zo’Dal, to tell her to retreat. Before he could, two more of the creatures slammed into him, and his feet went out from under him. His call became a wordless shout as he went crashing down.

—

Zo’Dal felt the rat’s bones crack beneath the impact of her club, and she was already looking for the next threat before it fell motionless on the stairs. She turned in time to see Fel being dragged to the ground by the last two creatures. He had lost his sword and was wrestling with them, desperately trying to keep their snapping maws away from his head and neck. Without pausing to think, Zo’Dal rushed to his aid.

She closed the short distance in an instant, swinging her club as hard as she could at the nearest rat. There was a wet crunch, the satisfying sensation of meat and bone giving way beneath her blow, and it tumbled back from her. The second creature rounded on Zo’Dal in an instant and leapt, crashing into the half-elf and sending them both sprawling to the ground. The edge of a stair drove into the small of Zo’Dal’s back and she gasped, momentarily stunned by the pain. The rat was on her at once, snapping and clawing at her face. She threw up her arms to protect herself and its teeth clamped down on the club still in her hand. Reflexively, she grasped the weapon in both hands and shoved, forcing it between the creature’s sharp jaws like a bridle. Its yellow eyes widened and it thrashed its head, trying to dislodge the club.

It weighed nearly as much as her, and it was immediately obvious the creature was stronger. Panic began to set in as her already exhausted muscles strained feebly against the monster. She held on for dear life, bandaged hands still stinging from her earlier injuries, sure that her arms would be ripped from their sockets. Its claws dug into her leather jerkin and she struggled to breathe with its weight crushing her chest. Its wicked yellow fangs were inches from her face and its sickening breath filled her nostrils, almost causing her to gag. She was staring her own death in the face. In mere moments, she knew she would run out of what little strength she still had.

Zo’Dal's mind raced to think of anything she could do, any way out, and she remembered the dagger Fel had given her. Without pausing to reconsider, she let go of the club with her right hand and reached to her boot, finding the hilt of the dagger waiting there. Immediately, the rat overpowered her remaining arm and wrenched its head to one side and ripping the club free. She pulled the blade from her boot as it threw the club aside and lunged for her throat.

Zo’Dal twisted her head away at the last moment, narrowly avoiding the creature’s snapping jaws, and with the same motion plunged the dagger into its side. The beast let out a horrible, agonizing squeal and jerked. She stabbed over-and-over, until she felt warm blood slick her fingers and realized the creature was no longer moving. Then, with all the strength she could still muster, she heaved the dead beast off of her. She watched as it rolled down the stairs with a series of wet thumps, leaving a trail of dark blood, then came to a halt at the bottom. Silence filled the great hall.

Zo’Dal let the bloody dagger fall from her hand, and sprawled on the stair, panting.