The damp tunnels of the sewers were Olive Rat’s domain. A flickering lantern cast dancing shadows across a dry grotto it called home. Piles of questionable treasures glinted from various nooks. A scuttling sound announced Olive Rat’s arrival.

"Phew... good haul, squeak!" Olive Rat declared, dropping their backpack with a soft thud. They pulled their pickaxe from a loop on the side, leaning it against a broken pipe. "See the goods, see the goods, squeak!"