As the massive troll known as the Abbot allows you entry you can see that the man the lost boys call “Teacher”, an aged, blind mage, lives in a large chamber that once served as a cistern. Alighieri and the outcasts who have befriended him have turned it into an apartment of sorts. Strange drawing of all sizes cover the walls, executed in different media from pencil sketches scrawled on scraps of paper to massive images painted on the concrete. All the drawing depict alien faces surrounded by a nimbus of stars.
You recognize some of the aliens within the drawing: the first to catch your eye is a sketch of a hulking alien labelled Centurion, one you know as a Muton, the next labelled Tempest seems to be nothing more than a floating torso, followed by a insect looking creature labelled as Ripley. You recognized the next two; the one labelled Roanoke is a Sectoid, the other one labelled Masquerader bears the birthmarks you remember from the Thinman. The next two are ones you’ve never seen and hope you never do a tentacled alien labelled Lovecraft, and a mountain of muscle that makes even the Muton look small is labelled Rubicon. However the eye catching one is a massive painting on the back wall, it shows a human astrally projecting in space between two tall, thin, multi-armed figure with mystical energy flowing around them. It is labelled Hyperion.
As you approach Alighieri it is obvious that his eyes were not removed by any surgeon, but were most likely gouged out by someone it a hurry. His sightless gaze falls on Allan and he smiles.
‘Greetings Macumazahn, I knew your spirit would return to Africa. I see you have met my boys. Many live in the sewers who have reason to fear the heavens. The surface is no safe home for those who are changed, so they seek shelter in the dark. The surface dwellers persecute them for having the bad luck to be cursed with a genetic time bomb. You come seeking information about ghouls. The ghouls are among those who have sought shelter. Lately they have withdrawn into a few isolated enclaves. It worries me that they are becoming more savage: the few that my boys have encountered lately have acted positively feral. They seem to be losing the last remnants of their humanity much more quickly since the city has placed a bounty on them. They have been forced to fight tooth and nail for their very survival.’
‘A group of punks came rolling by a week ago, bristling with weapons and slogging through the murk until they happened on a ghoul lair. Then they opened fire, mowing the wretched creatures down in their homes. Three days after the raid, another party searched the same tunnel. Not gangers this time, though. A few of my boys thought they might be looking for something, but I can’t image what.’