Actually, Kat might be use that uncertainty to her advantage, making such an abandoned corridor conveniently 'happen to be/have always been' where someone (for instance, Arc) just 'coincidentally' happened to look for one. On second thought, it'd be better to make exploratory holes in multiple locations at once, since cast a wider net would increase the probability of a discovery and thus decrease the strain on Kat's power. Not that the dungeon had much need for extra rooms at the moment... Maybe a storage room? Actually, such an empty cavity would be a nice place to dump the backfill from excavations elsewhere; Arc didn't want a repeat of the stress it took to keep the convoy of tailings from the shrine up to the surface in check.
The hidden halls were cold and barren, a sharp contrast to the surprising biodiversity of the deep sewers. This is more like what Arc would have expected a cavity far from the surface to be like; far from the great energy source called the sun, simple entropic decay should wear the cycle of life down to a halt.
“I guess without even the waste products of humans to feed on, it seems nothing can live down here...” Arc muttered, thinking out loud. Before he could ponder why his own voice sounded disappointed of all things, one of the minions in the gang interrupted. (Possibly, one of the original Pantaloons; Arc wasn't very good at telling most minions apart.)
“Yesthing downhere livedo! Thislike hidesome dryway in, stickynest Chief finden atime. Inside checken when, bigsmall crawlies manysome pouncen abrupt! Me see-en, truth! Wierdlike though, weaksome theybe methink and, othermore stiffsome erethen be too. Suchso, fiercelike fighten still, runtsthree killen yet! Nestin lootfind post, allthem deadbe ere. Stiffparts of, killproof priestymost holymake Chief havedo. Chief onis, looknow!
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The minion was beaming with pride for its leader, so Arc decided it was prudent not to refute the accuracy of its account. Instead, he probed for more details: “So, that's where he got that equipment?” Arc was curious about the gear Pantimus had outfitted himself with, but not enough to ask about it directly. It included a steel-headed pike (from which the original panties hung like a banner), a brass breastplate, and a shield (which was probably a helmet beaten flat because it lacked the right holes for horns). All of which were finer than minions could make themselves, but to small for a Human to use. Oh, and there was also that cargo sled (pulled by two large rats) that might have once been a tower shield.
The minion replied to Arc's question with an eager “Yupyup!” and went on to take the opportunity to regale Arc with a wide variety of similarly-entertaining, yet less-useful (and probably even less-accurate) tales all the way to the group's destination.
---------
“Herewe now.
The source of the odor was soon clear, as Pantimus directed Arc's eyes to a large pit full of bubbling, presumably volcanic mud. While Arc was awed at the sight, he knew he wasn't brought down here to play tourist. Pantimus soon made clear his intentions.
“Wetways upin, Master closeto be may, lessroom we's yet. Lastsome place minionsfor only makedo willen. Helpen will?
Finally got to the end of that. Well, I suppose emergent narrative is a good thing in the end... Isn't it?
Will", or "You want to help." Dropping the -en makes the phrase an imperative; in other words an order. Only, Pantimus kept the tone of a question when he said it. Make of that what you will(en).
at least had one or two groups meet a grim fate in the depths by now... But I guess that's part of what makes my story unique.