(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Dak'kon had to support me as my wounds knit together slowly. I was
hobbling along at his side, trying to keep my groans of pain to a minimum. It
wouldn't do to attract more attention.
One path led us towards yet another dead end, but with caution and
curiosity in mind I eyed the arch standing there. A portal. It must have been.
At a touch the opening flared to life, a blue spiral, wavering like a pool of
water that parted two realms. Glowing wisps framed the gate, and a dark,
recessed room was on the other side.
We stepped through, and nearly stumbled back in shock.
Rats. Dozens of rats, pouring from the corners to nip at our heels. Those
bony spirals that grew from their skulls like plump tumors gave them away
immediately. I remembered what Creeden had told me about them:
“Yer cranium rat, though -- brain vermin, wot I go after -- they're just
trouble. When ye get more than a 'andful a' the little pikers together, they
start to get smart on ye... sometimes real smart.
Ye run into more than that... more than a couple dozen... ye run like ye're in
the shadow of the Lady!
Sorcery, cutter... sorcery!”
The way the rats held themselves, staring at us all as one entity with a dozen
pairs of beady eyes, was testament to a sinister intelligence. Thoughts of
communication were promptly cut off as a shrill, piercing scream filled my
brain, rattling one thought against the next like dice in a cup. Already
weakened, I stumbled, blood flooding from my nose and, by the warm
trickle along my shoulders, my ears as well.
Frantically I snatched at the remaining spells I had prepared, tossing spheres
of death at the heaving mass of fur and flicking, naked pink tails. As they fell
the hive mind collapsed, and the shrill piercing muted to a dull buzz.
Gathering focus and finding myself empty of any useful magic, I threw
myself at the mass with a dagger, piercing one squealing ball of fur,
stomping on another. The crunch of bone and flesh flattening under my
boot was unnerving, yet oddly satisfying as the pain of their psychic assault
fell another step. The small biting teeth were nothing before Morte's
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