Boots splashed into the stagnant muck of the subterranean drainage network beneath Tarnstead. Marcus gripped his broadsword tightly, letting the golden radiance of the blade illuminate the slick brick walls.
Elena held his left hand, her fingertips glowing with restorative pink magic. Twelve other Earthlings crowded the narrow tunnel behind them, coughing as they scrambled to find their footing in the dark.
"We split up." Marcus pointed his weapon down the branching tunnels. "Four down the eastern runoff pipes. Four to the lower filtration chambers. Keep moving and find a surface grate."
The survivors splintered immediately to follow the command. Four mages veered into the eastern corridor. Another four fighters scrambled down a rusted maintenance ladder leading into the depths. Marcus squeezed Elena's fingers and led the remaining four warriors straight down the central aqueduct.
