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[Tiruin]

"Say, if the man is mute, how will we communicate effectively, sir Rodri?"

[Caellath]

"Through gestures. There are limits to unwillingness to communicate, and this man may be stepping over those boundaries."

[Tiruin]

"I'm pretty sure his leering smile speaks troves of information."

[Dunamisdeos]

"Solomon not trust door."

He says accusingly at the doorframe.

[exolyx]

Rodri steps between the man and the crystal, the man slowly lowers his hand, only to raise it again, his palm facing towards your head. Not responding to any question.

As Thranduil steps into the new room, the bones begin rattling, the torches in the entire area go out except for one in this room, you are unable to see the pile anymore, this is very similar to before.

[mesor]

Get ready to swing my weapon, put my back against a wall.

[Caellath]

"Enough is enough, Sir. There are limits to silence." Rodri says as he takes action.

Push his hand away with the shield. If he gets aggressive, attack him with both weapons.

[Dunamisdeos]

((So, wait. Solomon was first into the room, so does the room not go dark until the elf enters? Regardless...))


Gro-Undy strikes a menacing pose, and stomps into place in front of Thranduil.
"Is ok, tiny Elf Friend! Solomon protect from dark!"

[mesor]

"Kick the back of the orcs leg, 1 more tiny crack and I'm gonna make an orc on a stick big man. guess where the stick will be going in?"

[Spinal_Taper]

Spoiler: Done! (click to show/hide)

Name: Darius Jenerial
Age: 34
Gender:Male
Class:Wizard
Race:Elf
Deity:Tress
Main Hand: Right
Equipment: Light Armor, Sword
Stats:
5 Strength.
9 HP.
5 Lethal HP
+1 Min spell damage/ +1 heal point

Level:1
Appearance: Darius is proud of being elven, and he stands that way as well, with his back straight and a proud smile on his lips. His ears are pointed, as is typical of an elf, and all together, he looks angular and severe. Both his hair and eyes are brown. His mark is on the right side of his abdomen.
Past life: Back home, Darius was a star child. A rising star amoung the magi, he was the best his age, perhaps of a few years more as well. His talents were immense, but sadly, he had an immense ego to match. He simply was better than everyone else, and that's how he acted.

All of his magical talent however, came for naught in the face of a plague. His people died, falling like wheat to deaths scythe. Then, they started coming back. People looked for him to guide and protect him, but he couldn't. Why? Because he was gone. Gone already, fled into the world at large with nearly nothing.

[Tiruin]

Aim Spear.

Rush and stab, with the buckler to bash the strange man.

"Cryptic...so cryptic."

[Nirur Torir]

Try to get into the room with the torch.

[exolyx]

((Sorry about taking a while, I've been pretty busy, nothing bad though, it's just been time consuming.))

The old man steps back when you push him with the shield, then finally utters a phrase "Tovik Nast Ne, lord of night and pain" a jet black substance begins to engulf his hand, him grimacing in pain, but at the same time a grin forming.

In the dungeon, finally the group can see what is hunting them, more of those creatures from before, the light is too dim to see them, you are thankful for that... there appears to be two of them now.

[Caellath]

((I think Tiruin's action was stabbing, as in attacking already.))

"...Just die."

Cut off the man's arm.

[Tiruin]

ATTACK