There was a deadly silence in the sewers. Despite the distance from the surface and the isolation, Kkelea was aware that something was happening. Perhaps Scourge's invasion, or the human counteroffensive, had finally begun. She could almost smell the blood. Fleas, oblivious to all of that, had fallen asleep in her lap. It was hard to believe how naive he could be. Kkelea had long believed that what she felt for him was due to instincts that had awakened with her maturity. Now she knew it was something else, something she didn't understand, that she could only feel. She didn't know what to call it, or if she wanted to.
Pli stood before them, Kkelea's axe in his hands. They did not speak, the gnome just looked in all directions without really seeing anything. His leg twitched restlessly, a sign of unprecedented nervousness. A troll approached them with his characteristic calmness and said to Pli:
"It is time."
Pli looked at him for a long time before asking.