Act I, Part I: Busted By Antuul Dralosi, Scavenger Every Ruins Rat worth his salt knows his haul is just his ante into the games at Ald Uxith, because one man’s haul isn’t worth much but five or six men’s? That’s where you make your money and that’s where I made mine, but something went wrong tonight. There was someone I hadn’t seen before and if I hadn’t gotten so ahead of myself, maybe I’d have picked up that something was off about this rookie. He didn’t carry himself with the swagger they do after their first haul—he had a quiet confidence about him and that was my cue to stay off the Tables tonight, but I didn’t, and now I’m sitting here with nothing but a couple more sips of Quab and a knot in my stomach. That was Sero’s money I lost on the Tables tonight and once he gets word of it, who knows, I’ll probably just be another dead rat. That is unless I go deep, but every rat knows that’s certain death. But hell, do I even have a choice anymore? If I don’t, one of Sero’s thugs are going to jump me and that’ll be it for old Antuul. And if I do? Only the Gods know what’s trapped in those old ruins—I’ve heard stories, but they’re just that—stories. I’ve heard the specters of the old settlers still roam. I hear there’s a goblin army in there. Hell, it could just be actual rats and cobwebs for all I know, but I’ve never seen anyone come back from a Deep Run—it’s like they just—disappear. Arvon, Dorval, Gilyn—all of them had these big plans of the hauls they were going to pull and it wasn’t the kind of junk you pull from the surface that isn’t worth much of anything to anyone—they were going to pull all the old artifacts that the Temple took when the Landfall happened. The kind of stuff that wouldn’t buy you a spot at the Tables—the kind of stuff that’d buy you the whole damn casino or even the whole damn town. But where are they now? Gone? Dead? I don’t know. Nobody knows. They just—disappeared. But I don’t have much of a choice anymore. Sero wanted his money tonight and I don’t have it and the only way I’ll get it is if I get that damned book for Skriiva. I don’t even know why she wants it. She already makes the Quab west of New Balmora, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Her Quab is her life and that book, that stupid book, is the only hope I have of paying Sero off. You know though, I just never saw my life going quite like this. I figured once I got away from Dro’garra, I’d have a real chance at life. I figured I’d make something of myself and now look at me? I’m so scared I’m spilling what’s left of my drink all over myself as I try to take a sip. I just didn’t think it’d go like this. I always figured I’d show everyone back home that I wasn’t just some toy for that dirty old cat, that I was actually a man—a real man! But here I am. Scared. Alone. Trying to compose myself enough to grab my gear and get in there—get into the city itself. I should have just stayed off the tables when I saw that newcomer. There was something off about him and I should have picked up on it the moment I saw him, but I got greedy, and now look at me? Now I’m a dead man walking because I got greedy. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! I guess it doesn’t matter much now though. What’s done is done and I can’t change that; I just have to make my peace with the fact that I’m probably not coming back after I make this next run. I probably oughta tell Skriiva thanks for always watching out for me, but you know, I don’t want her to see me like this. If I make it back, then I can tell her thanks. If not, I guess it doesn’t matter anyways Here’s to hoping I sleep well—probably the last one, so I need to make it count. -Antuul Dralosi, Scavenger