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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Maidhc O Casain" data-source="post: 5708798" data-attributes="member: 29558">"Um, boss, you sure about this?"In spite of his misgivings, the cat-like creature does as he's bid and makes his way cautiously through the pool room and through the portcullis. The bats are a quiet brown carpet on the ceiling of the room beyond. Drawing on courage inspired by the certain knowledge that death on this plane will never last, Gragnor whips around the room setting up a caterwauling to raise the dead. The swarm takes the bait, rousing from its restful slumber to a seething, swarming, deadly mass hell bent on destroying this threat to their home.The mental image of the walls in Kalgor's head blurs with motion; the bait is streaking toward the trap . . . he clears to door . . . Kalgor signals that the bait is taken . . . Tyrien throws the torch, and the makeshift web goes up like the fireworks on Cortessa's feast day. The bats screech and cry, the smell of burning flesh and fur replaces that of oil and spirits. It takes about 10 minutes for the entire mess to burn itself out, leaving stinky, greasy spots on the floor of the catacombs.</blockquote>