Rutile is quickly making a habit of being in strange places, this time with their coat pockets filled with stones collected from the more repulsive areas of Aifaran. They're blessed with no sense of smell, so though the sewers are unpleasant for more sensory beings, the only truly bad thing about them is the lack of sunlight.

That said, they haven't delved far, and certainly not deep enough to hit pools of water more than ankle-deep. The heels of their shoes hooked on their pockets and their leggings rolled back, they wade barefoot through sludge that's more dirt than water.

No one has been down here with them for several hours now; as they double back to the sewer entrance, they're surprised to find a metal contraption lying in wait. They crouch down to examine it, careful to stay back. "Who could have left such a thing?" they murmur, their voice echoing off the hollow stone.