[B]Aslo and the trip from hell[/b]

Aslo had sat uncomfortably ever since the grand ball. Sure things had gone well enough with the Free Holds and its leaders, but damn Ethlinn straight to Hell. The woman was still on his mind since their encounter, and despite the turmoil he was sure it would cause he nearly wanted his colleagues who had answered her call to fail. He ran his finger along one of the walls in contemplation of the satisfaction that it would bring him, and decided that it would be almost worth it.

The trip to his current slice of hell had been one he hadn't paid much attention to. He had watched with falsified interest as Murderok and Griff the mercenaries discussed their various topics, he had tried to be friendly with the young Imperian guards that were accompanying them on this mission, but clearly in the solitude of their 10'000 year exile none of them had decided to become interesting. Now as they marched inside the entrance of the hill Aslo stretched out, feeling his back and neck crack. Next his knuckles and wrists. For the moment he shook off the failure and focused on the task at hand. 

It was a simple question Florence was asking of them. There was of course a strong case for them to go to the Armoury over the dining hall. As clearly the prospect of weapons over food made sense to who had been in a shady looking dungeon before, however there was something less exciting about the idea of 10'000 year old weapondry. Aslo himself was already well armed, and he was fairly sure the rest of those in the party were aswell. "So Florence, is there anything of interest to find in the armoury, or will it be as desolate and empty there as it is everywhere else in these damned ruins My vote goes to which ever path leads to the artifact room more swiftly." He was quickly realizing that this would be less a thrill and more a trial.