Down and down the group went. The damp cold of the hastily dug tunnel was one that crept up one's legs. Gabriel shivered somewhat under his robes, though he was careful to not show this to his subordinates. It was important he kept up the appearance of a stalwart unmoving leader, especially considering where this pursuit would lead. There were few things that the denizens of the undercity respected, power was one such thing. Trudging around in sealer robes was not.<br/><br/>Gabriel's unflinching march carried him through yet another bend in the tunnel, and then a light was visible up ahead. Gabriel inhaled deeply and steeled his face. It was unfortunate, but it had to be so. The pursuit would be pushes into the undercity. He briefly considered the silver linings of the situation, the hazard pay for going there at all was a considerable bonus, as would the bragging rights be. That is, if Gabriel was able to pull his squad through without being ambushed by one of the myriad rival gangs, lured into some extra-dimensional rift and carried off to lower planes, or other unpleasantness that were allowed to fester in the undercity.<br/><br/>As the sealers stepped into the light, the few undersells that had come to inspect the new addition to the beehive of tunnels and vaults that made the undercity stepped back. The underdwellers that weren't involved in the shady business down here could easily be recognized by the fact they out of dodge at the first sight of trouble brewing. Some retreated behind closed doors, other smaller sorts crawled into various crevices that dotted the poorly-lighted tunnel, and soon only those that meant business.<br/><br/>Gabriel twiddled fingers behind his back, and a whisper was carried to his squadmates covertly. "Don't show fear, on't stare directly at anyone. Just keep walking and we'll make it out of here mostly in one piece." The last part of the windwhisper was an adaptation of an old joke that basically stated no foray of sealers into the undercity ever ended without fighting, no matte rhow brief the excursion. It was somewhat of an exaggeration of course, but it was no secret the people here had no love lost for the established powers in the city, and its enforcers by extension. It had been some time since Gabriel had been here, but he could still remember at least one person nearby that could help find the fugitive revolutionaries. Most people here would gladly lie in the face of a sealer to protect those that fought directly against the top crust of the city, but every society, no matter how closely-knit. Had traitors willing to sell out their kinsmen.<br/><br/>Gabriel stalwartly walked forward, scanning the corners of his eyes for one of the subtle landmarks one needed to look out for here to be able to find anything at all in the labyrinthine passageways. He looked out of one corner and then noticed a group of shady characters walk his way with a very clear purpose in their step. Of course it was only a matter of time before local powers would react to what they likely perceived as an intrusion on their territory. The group was a motley assortment of the city-dwellers most 'civilized' folks would call unesirable, perhaps even disgusting. The leader of this group seemed to be a rather heavily scarred gnoll. "Oi! Wot's yer business 'ere, da boss ain't taking kindly tah ya purplerobes!"<br/><br/>The gnoll's words were more barked than spoken, and his posture generally screame aggressiveness and intimidation. Gabriel looked back at him with a feigned stalwart gaze, barely even blinking as spittle and halitosis wafted out of the scarred gnoll's maw. "Whoever your boss is, we probably have no business here. We're just here to locate some fugitives my own 'boss' would like to see dealt with." Gabriel's words spoke of attempts at diplomacy, but his posture was already subtly shifting back into a combat stance. He windwhispered his orders to the rest of the squad. "Attempt peaceful resolution, conflict with this group not desirable. Prepare for worst-case scenario regardless".<br/><br/>As the words were carried by subtle gusts to the ears of his colleagues, the gnoll spoke up again. "If yar boss would like ta get some blokes hiding out on our boss's turf, he shoulda asked. Yar fugitives are ours now, and der's nuffing ya blokes can do about it!". The gnoll chuckled in the yipping laugh of its kind. Gabriel found himself unable to remember what particular gang this group might belong to. For all he knew they were hiding the fugitives purely out of spite, just as possibly, they were in league with the revolutionaries and were spiriting the men away to a safehouse even as they spoke.<br/><br/>And then, Gabriel heard a heavily-voiced person clear his throat. He glanced behind him to see Murach somewhat meaningfully glancing around. It was subtle, but the rest of the gnoll's gang had been surrounding The squad the moment they had come near. It was a clever strategy really, distract the target with a loud-mouthed and dumb-seeming brute as the rest got into position for an ambush. Gabriel glances around subtly some more. A pair of goblins ha their hands on the daggers around their waist, and a ratfolk had covertly attached a tailblade to its rosy tail. For the moment, it seemed they were unaware the sealers were aware of their intent, this could also be a ploy though, to lull the squad into a false sense of tactical superiority. Tension was rising, and Gabriel was ready to spring a cavalcade of magic from his fingertips the moment anyone at all made a sudden movement.