Another door: My hand is getting warm

Werner trod through the sewers with the group, shuddering at the haphard shoring and bracing holding the ceiling above their head. It was little wonder the streets were uneven and the buildings as off the square as they were.

The torch flared for a moment, gobbling at the foul gases let loose as the party stirred up the revolting soup on the floor. Ruining his ability to see into the dark, AGAIN, Werner glanced at the torch. While he had managed to find a decent peice of hardwood, it was burning uncomfortably fast, and the lantern didn't look good for too much light either. After all the twists ans turns they had taken between the two hideouts it was probably pointless to try and retrace their steps without Kirsten leading them.

As Kirsten skulked back towards the door from where she had deposited the rest of them Werner resisted the urge to peer after her. She represented the best local knowledge and ability to get them out of here, whether going forward or back. He could only nod his silent assent as Johan grumbled beside him "We won't be far behind you, Kirsten, should you need us..."