Well, great. First the Rogs, and now Dark Elves? This certainly wasn't what Settionne had signed up for... well, it was, at least as far as the Dark Elves went, but he still had his reasons to be scared out of his wits! And worst of all, nothing here was anything like as valuable as it ought to be! He was under the impression Dwarven craftsmanship was meant to be very good, and yet the weapons here were so poorly made as to be nigh-worthless compared to a true blade. Unless the forge had been abandoned long ago, and the withering of these weapons was time's fault... or of Dark Elven make? That would be the far worse option, because it'd mean they were [i]still there.[/i]

But either way, if there was a threat of lingering Dark Elves to consider, then there was no point sticking around. For once, he found himself agreeing with the tall half-elf; 'I believe the Skay-lay may have the right idea in this case, folks,' he confirmed, whilst managing to keep all but the slightest edge of panic out of his voice. It wouldn't do for a priest to worry in front of his flock, not least because that might give them reason to suspect which deity he was following. 'Madame Alice,' he asked the mage politely, 'might I suggest using your magical abilities to divine for us a route out of this place? I would do so myself, of course, but I do not wish to tax the gods for their favour all too harshly...'

And as far as praying for spells went, not to mention surviving another pitched combat, he made no bones about reiterating to himself that his daily supply of luck was probably already running thin... and one makes their own luck, as they say, by not acting the fool, which meant escaping to greener pastures quickly. Doing his bit, he began to look around for... he didn't know, other exits. Doorways deeper into the stone, hidden trapdoors, [i]anything[/i] to get him out of this mess!

[@POOHEAD189][@Banana][@The Fated Fallen][@Fetzen]