Olazabal finally managed to get out into the corridor.

She chuckled at the sight of the dead acolyte before turning around to the acolyte that had just scrambled up out of the trapdoor. “You’re next, dearie!”
The acolyte tensed, then grinning ferociously he squared up to the small, dwarven priest.
“Oh not me, dearie,” said Olazabal jerking her thumb sideways.


Elisa flipped her elven dagger so the flat of the slick, bloody blade rested between her right thumb and forefinger.

Raising her arm to throw she smiled at the acolyte “Catch!” she whispered…
Olazabal clapped her hands delightedly, then realised that she was meant to be quiet. After such a gesture of restraint she frowned as Tyra promptly kicked the door in of the room opposite.

Bursting through the human Berserker looked for something to kill. On the other side of the room she spotted a robed figure pull back into another doorway. “Oh no you don’t,” said Tyra swinging her hammer. “Come here to mama…”