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Jordan nods. "Yeah; I managed to help a few snap out of it, and a few weren't affected. They followed Qui after the runners." She jumps down from the platform and joins you. "Glad to see you made it through, Kashif," she says. The vizier nods solemnly.

The sewer tunnel behind the platform has been partly demolished, its walls picked and hacked at, chunks of stone and masonry lining the floor on either side. At first you think it must have been the side effect of some epic battle that raged through the corridor, but then you notice the drills and construction tools. "What were they digging for here?"

"Something they thought was walled-over?" Jordan offers. "Don't know. Looks like they didn't find anything, though."

The passage cuts to the right, revealing a splintered wooden door smashed open on the far wall. Inside, Qui paces furiously as he argues with Lucca. One of Bouchard's retinue of Sewer Rats stands quietly in the corner, clearly uncomfortable and feeling out of place without her coterie. When the Sheriff notices you approaching, he sighs in relief, his back straightening as if a heavy weight has been removed from his shoulders.

Next

"I was starting to think we were the only ones left," the Sheriff says. "I'm glad the three of you made it out of that deathtrap." He gestures at a circle scorched deep into the floor. "One of the fugitives we followed stepped on this and disappeared. We'll head back and round up the ones who weren't destroyed for questioning."

"We need to move before it's too late," a familiar voice says from the other end of the room. You step inside, and while you're not entirely surprised to find Henrik Lang was discovered among his fellow Tremere, the fact that he's stripped naked and shackled to the wall is rather shocking. Deep wounds score the Primogen's arms, chest, and legs, seeping sluggishly in twisting rivulets of vitae snaking downward, collecting into a small trough at his feet. An open box on the table beside him contains several vials filled with a dark red liquid. It doesn't take an active imagination to realize what's been going on. "You have to listen to what I'm saying, James," Lang insists, pulling at his restraints. "You're not seeing the bigger picture!"

"You know not to call me that, Henrik," Qui growls, palming a thick wooden stake. "Another word and this goes right through your heart."