Operation Little Man No More was a go. The scouting party had come back with great news; the tiny devils that had been plaguing the Ivory Skull for months now were camped only a few miles out from the northern gate of New Hobart.
Fortunately, that meant that they would be able to reach that point via the sewer system, provided they followed a very specific set of directions, which the scouts had written out. For some reason, it used blocked drains as markers for where to turn, but Charlie decided not to scrutinise them for that particular decision.
She led her team of sixteen down into the gross underbelly of a city that had once seen much better days. Charlie hated to imagine how long it had been since this place saw a proper drain cleaning.
Turning right at the intersection of blocked drains near Brighton Street, Charlie stalked the sewers, wishing there could have been another way. Approaching above ground would surely get them seen, either by Fred Bentleigh’s loyal supporters or the Little Men themselves, so through the sewers, it was.
They continued on, past the series of blocked drains close to Camberwell Court, then started on a gradual incline toward the edge of the sewer system. They wouldn’t leave through the main tunnel, but they’d get close to the end before climbing out of a pothole just a hundred metres away from where the Little Men were camped.
Behind her, Charlie heard her troops debating whether there really could be more than one Little Man. Part of her wanted to snap back and tell them that of course there was, but she figured there was no point. Sooner rather than later they’d see both of the eldrich horrors with their own eyes.
Charlie just hoped that all of them would live to tell the tale. At least if the Little Men took them all out, Bentleigh wouldn’t be able to say he told her so.