They splashed through the puddles of dark water close to the access point that they would use to get up onto the street. A rusty ladder in a dim pool of light was their beacon. Lament went first, feeling the gritty texture of the metal and probing with her mind upwards. Their contact was waiting for them anxiously in the shadowed crook of a drab-looking building. When Lament reached the top he extended his hand and she shook it.

“Henry. You must be the scout team. Please don’t tell me anything,” he said.

The Catacombs of Cthon: Chapter Two