Book One, Chapter Two, Post Seven

Málean, after pausing for a second to get his bearings, takes off running toward the entrance.
Málean rushes through the dining hall doors, leaving them open in his wake. He skids to a halt by the alcove where the guest’s things are stored, quickly searching for and finding what he needs.

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​Roland lashes out with his stolen dagger and scores a deep gash across the Demon-born's torso as he flees, tainted blood flying. In doing so, Roland overextends himself, and a stab of pain lances through his wounded shoulder. He is unable to follow before Lord Fennix rushes up in his place, and there is not room for Roland to engage as well. He sees the Demon-born strike the Lord, black magic seeping into the wound, and snarls.

"I said you shall not have him!" Roland screams. Throwing out one arm as he mutters something in Draconic, another, albeit smaller, lance of fire streaks out.

The fire bolt strikes the door frame. The Demon-born hisses something in Infernal with a sly grin. Then, louder, the Demon-born shouts out to the Pale Elf woman.

Terrence projects, and his voice resonates with rumbling bass. “Take heart, my lord! At every moment the forces of evil work like cowards in the darkness to defeat us. Today the fools have stepped into the light! And today they breathe their last breath!” Then he shouts at the Pale Elf, "Are you in charge of this fiasco? Are you having fun yet? It seems like several of you are dead or incapacitated!"

The woman chuckles. “We have accomplished our goal! The rest are but pawns in a game you will not win!”

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Reunited with his masterpiece weapon, his Thunder Cane, Málean starts running back to the dining hall. "Please don't be too late," he mutters to himself. "Please don't be too late."