Miklos couldn’t stop the orc from raising the alarm so he followed the others with easy strides. He hoped that the natural antagonism between the orc and the dwarf would stop him from making the rational decision and slam the door in their face. He called ahead, “Feldard we don’t want him getting away. Insult him!” He hoped goading the orc would have the desired effect.
Maruc pressing on behind the charge of his diminutive ally. He raised his Halavist emblazoned shield punch gripped with his left hand. He shook out his chain flail and as he closed on the orc he held its eyes for a long second. There was evil cunning driven by a dark intelligence hidden there, malevolence radiated from him. But his eyes and malice weren’t directed at the cleric, Feldard commanded his attention fully.
Feldard charged the orc. He needed no prompting to insult the foul creature, that came naturally when deal with there sort. “How typical of a wart-ridden, foul-smelling, pus bagged orc to flee at the sight of a Dwarf. They are all cowards, every last one of them.”
Despite the dwarf’s taunts, the orc knew that he was outnumbered and outmatched, and so, he ran through the door he had just opened, and bounded up the stairs.
Saeth, at the rear, almost screamed in frustration at being screened away from the action. Why couldn’t that fool of a Dwarf had tried talking to the beast?
By the time she’d squeezed through the door, the orc had already fled up the stairs, with the others in hot pursuit. Slowing down a bit, she noticed the second doorway, and pushed its door the rest of the way open.
A soft white glow pervaded the interior of the room. The source of the light was a 1-foot diameter sphere that radiated light. Within the room were a few old battered chairs, a couch with its stuffing coming out, and a card table with a set of well-used cards and knucklebones resting upon it. Littered throughout the room were various ale mugs, beer steins and broken wine bottles. The room smelled of stale alcohol.