For a brief moment, Fyr did seemingly nothing but to stare at his own weapon which by now was thoroughly drenched in blood and other bodily residue. Had he not been absolutely sure about the exact properties of his family heirloom, he would have suspected its inherent magic to somehow have interfered with the evil powers of the ghastly man and created this... whatever kind of portal that was.

So the armored knight was gone ? The woman, too ? And what had their last words meant ? They had certainly sounded like Cicero had not been surprised by the chain of events even remotely as intensively as Fyr had been. Oh just how much he hated it to lack information!

Speaking of lack, something there was no lack of was demonfolk still, and one of those nasty individuals approached Fyr from the side, barely enough for the latter to see the attacker coming in the corner of his view. Halfway ripped out of his deep thoughts and halfway angry, Fyr just pushed his axe sideways and turned on his heels.

[hider=attack roll]
1d20+7 = 24. Success.
[/hider]

The enormous weapon cut through the demonfolk with enough momentum to come straight out again at the other end, adding a significant amount of bloodshed to the rather distasteful amount the cavern had already seen. Fyr could hear the sound of battle from at least one other point, clearly reflected by the hard walls in here, so he turned again to check whether there were any more to be dealt with.

They had a lot to talk about after this...