Feldard did not understand the words between Hasan and the other, and distrusting, took the slight opening of the door not so much as an invitation but as further potential for attack. He roughly shouldered Hasan out of the way of the opening to prevent the elf from being a casualty while he strode forward to the door. Gripping his axe ready in one hand he pulled the door open with the other, revealing to all what lay behind. “Show yourself!”
“Ooof.” Hasan thudded against the narrow walls of the passage, as Feldard barreled past him. Once he regained his balance, Hasan quickly ran through the words and gestures he had studied to unleash a magic missile. He then stepped forward to greet their unseen host, and hopefully prevent the dwarf from getting them into trouble.
Hands spread wide with palms facing forward, in what he hoped would be seen as a peaceful gesture, Hasan intoned the most formal of the Elya’s ritual greetings, “May the sun shine on your land, the water run clear, and peace rule ever after.”
Saeth shook her head at the Dwarf’s rudeness, though she supposed it was to be expected. She kept her watch toward the rear, hoping that the Elf was peacefully defusing the situation.
Miklos rolled his eyes as the Feldard blundered in with Hasan in tow. Such for the subtlety of deception. He waited a few seconds with Seath for the sickening sound of dwarfsteel breaking flesh and bone. Then he had the sinking feeling that he had no magic left to rescue the foolish dwarf.
The priest grimaced and hefted his shield up. He offered a swift prayer to Halav and strode in behind the other two, raised his shield and shook out the chain on his mace meaningfully.
In the room before them, was what could only be what Elrond had referred to as The Elf of Stone. Assuming a defensive posture, it regarded those before him. At first glance, it appeared to be some sort of animated statue of a male elf in his prime, but as it moved, it appeared that while the skin of the creature looked exactly like stone, it retained the freedom of movement and grace common to the elven race. The elf’s skin bore several wounds carved into its stony texture.
It’s eyes fell upon the jade ring worn by Hasan, and it relaxed its stance.
“Are you the Siswa they call Hasan?”