Ghaazala wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Much more recently than I'd care." She scowls, considering. "Three-four weeks, maybe."<br/><br/>The tiefling shrugs the coils of the bladed chain back down off of her arm, catching a loop before the mass of links and bladed hooks hits the slimy stonework and flicking the length back up and around. "Not that<em>I</em>was goin' out of<em>my</em>way to look for him." She glances back over her shoulder to wear Sim is guarding the party's rear. "This<em>is</em>one of the Dock-ward mains, precious. Go far enough that way," She waves vaguely at one of the smaller branches, more indicating the direction than the particular pipe. "...And you'll have to compete with crabs the size of dogs picking through all this. Grates and Cellarers keep'em mostly down below the high-tide line, but sometimes smaller ones slip through and grow up."<br/><br/>"'Course, that's when the grates are in good repair and the Cellarers are on the ball*, which we know they<em>haven't</em>been."<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">*Silly Sewer History Note</div><div class="spoiler_body">The Paris sewers (and some other cities' based on similar models) for hundreds of years have been cleaned by shoving huge layered balls of wood (http://www.flockingsomewhere.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Musee_Egouts_de_Paris_7.jpg) into the narrower pipes. Water pressure forces them along, and as the edges of the wooden chunks the balls are made of erode, they form self-sharpening gouges which help to scrape the sides of the pipe clean. Eventually the balls (such as these eight-foot diameter examples from the old Paris system (http://farm2.staticflickr.com/1434/1318210318_63fa92f292_o.jpg)) come out downstream and are recovered. Because I'm a historian and a spelunker and these things are interesting to me in a disgusting and horrible sort of way...</div></div>