As Borgin and his team delved deeper into the distillery district, Thoric, ever the pragmatist, muttered a begrudging word of thanks towards the barrier.
"Thank the gods for this barrier, keeping the stench contained," he said, relieved that the foul smell was at least somewhat held at bay within the district's confines.
"Keep your eyes peeled. We need to find a suitable spot to set up the cage," Borgin urged his team to stay alert as his gaze swept across the desolate landscape of the district.
