The exchange only found itself further escalated the moment one man broke away from his comrades and headed for the door, his boots crunching loudly across the rough stone surface as they pulverized smaller bits of gravel. Moving as fast as he could carry himself, there was to be no doubt things would likely turn worse yet if he could succeed in opening the enormous wooden structure, although it would take some time to undo its bar - even if he could rouse whoever might be on the other side. It was for this reason the man was intercepted, his path cut off nearly mid stride, by the far larger human figure who thundered across the mine's shaft. 

Heading him off, he menaced a powerful warning from his now dry, dusted lips; "You are going to get us [i]all[/i] killed if you open that door!"

[Hider=Roll]
Rolled a [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/232]15[/url] for Charisma (Intimidation).
[/hider]
Blocking the path he forced the man to choose and make a choice that would not be made lightly. He could potentially rush past the larger man, certainly, but then turn his back and leave himself exposed, then attempt to fumble with the door? It threatened death, as one clean shot with the mattock was a tremendous deterrent - a mortal danger. He could try to struggle with and shove aside the other man, but the sizable figure and stature of it made that a gamble rather than an assured victory. Withdraw? It seemed certain enough that Branor's words and demeanor were less aggressive and more clearly not willing to die outright if all things permitted.

It was all well worth the attempt, or so the exile thought as he brought the old tool to arms, staring down the other man with a savage golden stare. Feet parted and squared away, footing of a man who favored a great weapon, there was a determination to his action that spoke volumes; if it came to blood now, it would come to blood.

No more words.

[@darkandstar][@EruditeAssassin][@Hekazu][@VKAllen]