Swamped

"Let's start with my room," Tom Eighth says. "I don't want those oversized rodents gnawing on my project."

"Sounds good to me," you say. Mostly you don't feel a need to get on his bad side, though you admit to being curious about what his project is and this might let you catch a glimpse. "Anybody object?"

There's some mild grumbling, but you agree and head in.

"You know, they're not actually rodents," Juliet chips in, as you approach the room. "The Dean told me they're more closely related to carnivores, they've just got an exposed tail and they like filthy places. So they look like rats and act like rats, hence the name."

"Ugh, you actually call him the Dean?" Mark mutters. "I thought he was the only one. So, suppose there is a greatrat in there, what do we do exactly?"

"We had an infestation before you got here," Eighth says. He seems to be taking the whole thing as an excuse to take the lead. "It's not that complicated, really; you hit it with your weapon until it dies. Just keep your masks on so it doesn't get a chance to spit in your face or something. Hopefully we won't see one."

You all head in. There's a puddle on the ground.

"Oooh, never seen greatrat piss up close before," Juliet says. "Guess one's been poking around in here."

"Wonderful," Eighth sighs. "I'll check the closet first to make sure it hasn't chewed up my project. Ninth, Juliet, you're with me. Marshall, watch the bed in case it's lurking under it. Conchway, you watch the doorway and yell if you see any more coming in. Stacey..."

He pauses.

"Stacey, just, do whatever."

Tom Eighth opens up the closet, and you can't help but sneak a peek. All you see is a little box, though. Is that what he's been working on?

"It's fine," he says, relieved. "Right, bed next. This is very dangerous. I'd just as soon not go poking my head under there, and I'm sure you all feel the same way. But if we can't think of a safer way to check for one, well, that's what we're stuck with."

"Oh, I can help here," you say. "I had to deal with one on the farm once. We'd chased it behind a broken old wagon at the back of the barn, but we had to coax it out before we could get it in the trap. And the wagon wouldn't move, so we couldn't just pull it - would be dangerous anyways, if the rat pounced."

"Get to the point," Eighth says, rolling his eyes. "How'd you lure it out? It better not have been with food, 'cause all we've got is swampleaf, and that doesn't have any scent."