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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Dirigible" data-source="post: 1319095" data-attributes="member: 12631">Eyvind & KneecapThe scout barges his way through the low door grunting and squinting into the gloom of the hovel. The smell of sweat and urine clogs the nostrils, and dim, tallow-and-filth candles splutter. Wooden benches, made of split logs form crude rows next to crates and planks that serve as tables.The big man is crouched in the corner of the room, too low for anyone to stand straight, a flagon in one hand, an iron prybar in the other and a bottle of some viscious looking grog on the floor at his feet. A spasm of fear crosses his face as you peer in.In a shaky, rasping voice he whimpers, "By Ascended Rowan's bowl... ye be here to despite us all, thee and thy devilspawn?Dark, Tyra & GavynAs the tall and the short of it swagger off into the large building, the mist oozing up form the sewage seems to swirl up higher, as if a hundred tiny whirlwinds are circling around you. All seems still and quiet, the sounds of diseased community muffled by fear.After a moment, dozens of pairs of tiny green eyes start to gleam in the mist, peering at you from ground level, from the rooves, from windowsills, from barrel tops, from beams and buckets...</blockquote>