A sickening gurgle echoed as one fishman spiraled down the drain. Its comrade tightened its scaled grip on Roschana, her choked gasps barely audible over the roar of the water. My spells sputtered uselessly against its slick hide.
Fenwick's strike slashed deep, but the monstrosity's grip held. With a sickening crack, Gornak tore a tile loose and vanished beneath the churning water. Roschana, eyes bulging with terror, finally landed a desperate blow, the fishman's skull crumbling. A sizzling burst from my minor spell ended its reign of terror.
Fenwick, a blood-mad fiend, carved into the second fishman even as it thrashed. His bladework was gruesome, his laughter echoing near the gaping drain. Honestly, part of me hoped the brute would slip.
Suddenly, Spoon was floundering, thrashing. I thrust my polearm towards him, but he shrieked, "Collapse the bridge! They don't need it, it'll trap us!" It was deranged, nonsensical, but with creatures lurking...
Cassius, bless his brawny heart, heaved the bridge towards the water. Spoon staggered toward the drain, a maddened gleam in his eyes - and then he was gone, swallowed by the depths. Gornak dove in, his bellow turning into a sickening crunch as he smashed into the walkway's edge. Then Cassius, the picture of stoic heroism, made his ill-advised leap... and slipped, crashing into the filthy stew. We were a symphony of stupidity, flailing on death's doorstep.
Gornak, ignoring his own pain, shoved the bridge into a makeshift raft. "For Spoon!" I yelled, absurdity burning my throat.
And then a miracle – Spoon, drenched and gasping, dragged himself onto the ledge. But next came the truly insane order: Gornak was to leap from his raft! He did, shattering his ribs on the stone, but he was out! Fenwick, though... maybe the sewer claimed him. A fitting end, for all I cared.
Gornak battled the current, finally clambering back onto his makeshift raft. Cassius snagged a boot, then heaved, his own strength giving out. Together, somehow, we pulled him back to the edge.
Exhausted, battered, we began the trek back, only to find... another fishman, fleeing down the dripping tunnel. Curiosity won out, leading us to a chamber echoing with whimpers. There, alone, sat a terrified merchant, the last survivor of the abductions. We were the heroes, the rescuers!
…Or so I thought until we reached the surface. The merchant, inexplicably, began screaming about kidnapping – the very thing we'd saved him from! Cassius had been rough, sure, but... Perhaps the sewer had addled the man's mind?
Roschana, Spoon, and I slipped away, leaving the confusion behind. Baths beckoned, and then, the Governor. This wasn't over, not by a longshot. While we walked, Spoon's curiosity piqued – he wanted to learn Elven, that language he'd heard us whispering. Maybe there was hope for him yet…