It was a stupid plan. A stupid bloody plan.

Skrakch stood in the pouring rain, thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, all the while getting drenched from head to jagged toenail. Because, of course, the heavens had opened as soon as they’d set out on this fool notion of theirs. His fur was matted to his skin and his leather coat was stinking to high heavens. His mood was as dour as it had ever been as he looked over his motley crew.

Zach had a confident grin on his face but that didn’t mean anything. The Halfling would go to the grave wearing that shit-eating grin. Hells, he’d be grinning even if he was being devoured by a pack of hungry Ghouls.

In fact, that was one of the few upsides to the next few hours. He might actually get to see that happen and, quite frankly, it would be a joy to leave the bastard to get eaten. Skrakch just needed to make sure he didn’t get dragged down alongside him.

On the flip side to Zacharias’ confident air, Meekknuckle looked like he was about to keel over or vomit. Perhaps both. It had taken quite a bit of bribery and cajoling to convince the Goblin to join him on the outing.

Despite being a total coward, Meek was pretty damn useful when he needed to be. If they were going to need any healing, and given that Zach was involved they almost certainly would, Meek would be their best bet.

More importantly, though, was the presence of Ornn who automatically came with Meek, no questions asked. The giant stone Golem stood unflinching in the downpour, its face set into its customary angry frown. The behemoth of a creation would be perfect at smashing their way through any Ghouls or Zombies they may encounter.

Plus, Skrakch had seen the creature move at its top speed before and he was completely sure that he’d had no trouble outrunning it. His number one rule was when going on a suicide mission, always make sure you went with someone or something that you could outrun.

Last but not least, the Ratling eyed Winifred. Dressed back in her fighter’s gear, she was currently downing a fresh vial of Dragon’s Blood. Skrakch could understand why to a certain degree. Dragon’s Blood was powerful, doubling the size of your Mana pool and enhancing the body.

Of course, it was highly addictive and had a nasty habit of shortening your lifespan but hey, Skrakch wasn’t about to judge. So long as she was willing to burn herself out, he would gladly take advantage. He watched as the brawler wiped her mouth and closed her eyes, allowing the drug to do its work and no doubt enjoying the high it gave her. It was pathetic to see really but each to their own.

Scowling up at the rain clouds, Skrakch tried shaking his cloak free of the damnable water. “By Krendor’s Beard, how long are we going to be stuck waiting here, Zach? I’m freezing my toes off, and unlike some of you, I only have six!”, the Ratling whined.

“Yeah, you mentioned that already,” Zach said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s only been a few minutes Skrakch. We just need to wait a couple more for the damn skeleton above to continue its patrol.” Zach said, absentmindedly spinning his daggers.

Swearing at the damnable Halfling once more, Skrakch distracted himself by running over the plan. It was deceptively simple actually. The Slums were well known for having rather shoddy blockages that lead through the Inner Wall, so all they needed to do was wait for the patrolling Tomb-Makers above to leave the area, and they were clear to sneak through the crack they were all waiting nearby.

Staring up at the ancient stone wall, Skrakch could just barely make out the shape of the guardsman above them. From the heavy thumping and the bits of blackened armor he could see, it was likely one of the Death Knights.

One of the upsides to living in Dray’Mel was the tireless Undead defenders lining the walls. Of course, some people said they were less defending the citizens, more protecting their livestock. Personally, Skrakch didn’t mind the idea of his body ending in some Mummy’s stomach. Once he was dead, he was dead. No reason to care. Mind you, he had no plans to die anytime soon, and even less intention of ending up in the Butchery.

Shuddering for reasons outside of the freezing cold rain, Skrakch bundled his cloak around him tightly. There was no good result from a living creature heading to the Butchery, as most folks called it. The Noble’s called it the Resting Place as if anyone would believe that. To him, it was akin to the misleading fairy stories that Humans told their children. A way to sugarcoat something horrific so that they never had to face the reality of how harsh the world really was.

“Alright people, look alive! We’ve got a few minutes before the next patrol heads by, so let’s get going.” Zach calls out, nudging Winifred forward. “There’s a half-collapsed building on the other side of the wall, just make sure the coast is clear before we move on.”

The young woman muttered a few curses under her breath, but she scrambled her way through the opening quickly. Following deftly behind, Zach climbed through with practiced ease.

Shoving Meekknuckle forward, Skrakch turned an eye towards Ornn. He wasn’t actually sure the big fucker would fit, but the Golem very single-mindedly followed Meek through, simply bashing the hole larger with his girth.

The Ratling didn’t waste any time following, pulling himself into the granite hole in the wall. Thankfully, Ornn had made the opening even larger, so it was easy enough to cross the wall splitting the Slums from the Undead district. Falling through in a silent roll, Skrakch quickly looked over his new surroundings.

As Zacharias had promised, they stood inside a broken-down residence. Bare as the day it was built, anything of value had long been looted from the dilapidated building. Hells, even the roof had collapsed inwards, giving them plenty of cover to peek out of. Shifting some rubble out of his way, Skrakch surveyed the empty street.

Wider than the Slums, the Undead district would no doubt have been quite impressive hundreds of years ago. Sadly, these days the cobblestone was torn and ruined, and the lampposts that adorned the streets were covered in blood and worse.

Popping his head out beside the Ratling, Zacharias took in the empty street with a well-practiced gaze. “Looks like we got lucky for once. I told you this plan was a banger,” Zach said with his customary grin.

Skrakch was seconds from retorting angrily as they heard a low moan ring out from across the street. As a figure shambled into sight, the gang of thieves and worse all quickly crouched down and watched in silence as a Zombie shuffled into the open street.

Decomposing flesh covered its frame, its eyes having long since decayed away, leaving sockets filled with fly larvae. One of its legs was twisted backward and it was missing its left arm. Only a fool would take that to mean that it didn’t present any danger. As it ambled along mindlessly, bits of necrotic flesh dropped off it like blackened snowflakes. Watching as the creature repeatedly bumped into a door frame, Skrakch sent out a silent prayer, before pulling a stone from one of his many pouches. Reeling backward, he chucked the stone over the Zombies’ head, as far down the broken street as he could.

As the thrown stone clattered against the cobblestone, the Zombies’ head snapped around to the source. Charging forward, the creature moved with unnatural swiftness, its broken leg barely slowing it down. Just watching the Zombie move like that made Skrakch feel sick to his stomach.

As the lurching Zombie quickly reached a particularly large piece of ruined cobblestone, Skrakch’s band of misfits gulped as one, as the zombie lifted the slab-like boulder like it was nothing, tossing it aside like paper.

Thankfully, upon finding nothing of interest the Zombie once more resumed it’s aimless shuffling. Whiskers quivering with fear, Skrakch stepped into the street, each step carefully placed.

Unlike Ghouls, Zombies were almost blind. No, the necromantic energy had instead fortified the rotten corpses' physical form, leading to an unnatural vitality. Thankfully, the damnable things fought each other as viciously as they hunted the living, and could be easily distracted. Just the thought of Zombies prowling in larger packs like Ghouls was enough to send a shiver down Skrakch’s back.

Motioning at the others, the quiet Ratling took a hesitant step into the street. Carefully watching the Zombie, he didn’t notice any immediate reaction. Satisfied, Skrakch began leading the way further into the city.

After all, the plan was simple. Just don’t get caught.