Fated and his slaves gather their things, don lantern helmets, light them, and hustle after the rest of the group. When they reach them, they will form a second rank about ten yards back from the main group.
The Mirthful Doomed takes a helmet and the woman's glaive and follows behind Fated To Die. "Here" he says, passing his flask to Fated and his slaves. "I think we can all use a stiff drink right about now."
Breath of New Moon hears the sound of heavy-booted feet approaching. A raspy voice speaks--the Foreman perhaps, is he having trouble breathing? "Ah yes, powerful musculature and short stature, this one will make a fine digger indeed!"
A rescue party is forming. The tunnel is wide enough for two to travel side by side, one on each side of the monorail track. (Perhaps it would be faster going to travel single-file on the track itself, but if you were startled or attacked, you'd have to make a Dex check to avoid stumbling.)
Does this look like a good marching order?
Shadow, Servitor Thaimos, Eye Sovereign Fated, Mirthful Slaves
The trail is easy to follow at first, bootprints in the mud, but as you move further into the tunnel, the water is ankle-deep, then calf-deep, and finally knee-deep. Water drips from the damp ceiling and walls of the dark tunnel. Your only source of illumination is the spooky spotlight beams from your miner's headlamps.
"Looks like he's trying to cover his tracks" whispers the Sovereign Mask of All Who See. "Either he's running for his life, or he's got something to hide. Personally, I hope it's the latter. But let us continue on till the path forks; this is no time for words."
Breath of New Moon breaths an inward sigh of relief, it seems she is merely destined to become a slave rather than a meal or a sacrifice. That will give her more opportunity for escape or better yet revenge! She remains still, awaiting an opportunity to act effectively and hopefully with surprise.
Breath of New Moon hears The Foreman continue... is he speaking to someone, or talking to himself? "Even now, the infection spreads through her veins... Yes... Soon the transformation will begin!"
MEANWHILE (several dice are secretly rolled)
In the tunnel, our heroes bravely press forward into the dark and gloom, intently studying the track, the brick walls, and the soggy path ahead. All is quiet... too quiet... so when the sound comes, even though it is not loud, it startles everyone. "Did you hear that?!?" A quick series of three muffled splashing sounds!
Whirling around, the feeble light of your headlamps reveals: three burgundy-colored vinyl bags sinking into the murk. And where is Pack Slave??
Eye of Thundera hops up on the track to get a better look. This section of the tunnel is unremarkable and featureless: damp, claustrophobic brick walls and ceiling, no light source, calf-deep water, the single rail. You can't for the life of you figure out where Pack Slave might have disappeared to!
Thug Slave picks up the bobbing duffel bags and whines, "Me scared, Master!"
Incidentally, the track is 10cm/4" wide (the same width as an Olympic balance beam).
The Sovereign Mask of All Who See is "mmm"s to himself, takes out his flail, and turns to that the bag in at his back, making sure the rouse is not a diversion to avert the party's attention from a stealthy assassin.