Not wanting to get in the path of Khaz’s axe, the two elves shouted to him while driving the enemy back with Sarel taking minor cuts and blows in the process while the druidess’ cloak seemed to protect her like armor. Recognition dawned in the dwarf’s eyes as his friends dragged him reluctantly from the fight to the open iron door. They threw their combined weight against it slamming it shut on skeletal arms and legs which Khaz hacked at with his notched axe growling in frustration.

“Elves are always retreating!” Khaz shouted; his battle madness obviously had not dissipated as he threw himself against the closed door.

“You need to regain your composure, Khaz Axzen!” Kimba said firmly but at the same time soothingly to the angry dwarf. “The wizard will feed on your hatred and anger and use it against you; we need to concentrate on the task at hand.”

If the druidess’ scolding had not calmed Khaz down, the fiendish purring laughter they now heard echoing through the corridors and reverberating within their heads did. Filled with joyous evil, it sent shivers down the trio’s spines before trailing off like dry leaves rustling in the wind before a storm leaving them in the torch lit stillness.

“I wonder what he thinks is so funny?” Khaz commented nervously breaking the silence.

They were now in a long large corridor, one that looked more like a hallway in a modest castle than a tunnel leading to a maintenance area for the sewers. Arched and well kept, the hallway had support arches made of huge blocks of granite at evenly spaced intervals of about 80 to 100 feet of well crafted dwarven architecture. Each support arch held a lit torch in a wrought iron sconce along its entire length at least up until the tunnel turned abruptly to the left several hundred feet in the distance. A slight foul breeze blew down the tunnel’s length causing the torches to flutter sending wild shadows dancing about the stone and chilling the companions’ sweat covered bodies.

Ignoring the laughter and the uncomfortable feeling they all had knowing that Creed not only knew they were in the sewers but likely knew their exact location, the trio set off down the long corridor feeling very exposed. Kimba gazed down the corridor’s length searching for any tell-tale signs of magical deterrents; Sarel joined her while Khaz studied the mason work of his people. The two elves caught movement from in and out of the shadows in the distance.

“Delvaheem,” the druidess whispered.

“Cave devils?” Khaz growled referring to the subterranean cousins of the tree devils.

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