From a couple blocks away, the racket from the Footstomp seems less raucous tonight. Must be because the rain is unusually heavy. As I approach the back door of the warehouse, the thump of pounding feet shakes the alley behind the tavern. Even so, I can't help wishing for once that the stomping was a little louder. Still, between the enveloping rain, the darkness, and the noise, I ought to be safe from detection.

The door is barred, same as it was last night after all the corpses went through, but it doesn't seem to be otherwise locked. I listen carefully. It is hard to hear anything - the sounds of rain and tavern that are shielding me are also making it difficult to listen through the door. But one thing is certain. The warehouse is not in full operation. There are no sounds of talking nor of the moving of barrels or pots or wagons.

Getting in proves easier than I thought. The door gap is twice as wide as the thin blade of my sickle. I slide the blade in under the wooden bar, lift up the blade til the edge catches in the wood, and slide the wooden bar over the tiniest bit. I repeat the process, again and again. It's time-consuming, subtle work. But thankfully, I have the tool for the job and no one inside seems to notice. I check the alley every few moments, to make sure I am not noticed.

On one of these scans, it hits me. There are no windows in any adjacent buildings looking down on the alley. There are no doors into any of the other buildings either. Interesting. Whatever's going on in this warehouse, it's been carefully shielded. Which is fine by me, since it means no one is likely to see me trying to sneak in the back door.

Finally, I can sense the end of the bar in the door crack. I have moved it all the way out of the right bracket and across the door. It is slightly askew now; it must be hanging a bit in the left bracket. Don't fall, little bar. As I open the door, the wind and rain blast in, and I quickly slip in and close the door behind me, sliding the bar securely back into position.

I am standing in a storage alcove, with walls on either side, but the front is open to the large central chamber of the warehouse. The alcove is filled with pots of olive oil, neatly stacked. In this corner of the building, the light is very dim. I slip off my rain-drenched cloak and hide it behind a row of pots. Then I move to the edge of the alcove wall and eyeball the rest of the warehouse. There is an oil lamp burning somewhere up at the front. The central area is filled with rows and rows of clay pots.

The opposite wall is lined with alcoves just like the one I'm in, and a quick look around the corner shows that the alcoves go all the way to the front of the warehouse on this side as well. Above the alcoves there is a small balcony, behind which are rooms which appear to be offices or living quarters. I scan the balcony opposite carefully for signs of a guard, but don't see any. Good. That will make searching less complicated.

I move out into the central area, taking cover behind the last row of pots. As I expected, there is a balcony and rooms above the alcoves on this side of the warehouse as well. The doors to the rooms above are closed and the windows shuttered. All are dark, except for the one closest to the front of the warehouse. Light peeks out through cracks in the shutters of that one. Maybe that's a guard room. Or something more interesting.

From back here, I can't see a way up to the rooms on either side. There must be a stair or ladder near the front. I want to keep an eye on that lit window, so I cross to the opposite alcove to begin working my way up toward the front. 

That's when I see it.

Half-hidden behind a wheeled pallet of olive oil jars. A narrow stone stair at the back of the alcove, going up to a trapdoor. Luck is with me tonight.

Even more than I expect, as it turns out. Behind the pallet is another trapdoor, in the floor, its edges outlined by the faintest of cracks, yellow-white from a light below. There are faint grooves in the wooden floorboards from the wheels of the pallet. It looks like the sole purpose of the pallet is to cover and conceal the trapdoor.

Except when someone is down there. In the middle of the night. Like right now. I'd bet silvers to coppers that down this trapdoor is where the animated corpses were taken last night.

I guess it's time to find out.