Otrera

Otrera lifts her glaive, still dripping with blood, and drops down from her fiendish aspect into a form like the dwarven miners around her. Hillock glances over and does the same...then has trouble holding onto the still-massive morningstar in his hands. Otrera sent to her colleagues through their link.

*We have taken out a a giant and a dwarf loyal to his cause. A dozen dwarf miners are seeking their freedom. How do you fare over there?*

Otrera shakes off something in her head, then glances over at Sora and Mulcri. This group had been working together for only a short time, but already Otrera saw leadership and clear language in both. She could speak fire when the situation called for it, but it seemed to come much more smoothly to Sora, and Mulcri clearly had magics that could make the stones themselves obey.

She was concerned about the cry she had heard from the elf-woman a few seconds ago, but hoped that Mulcri could regather her thoughts.

In the meantime, she turned to the dwarves.

"Yes, you are free. But if can linger a few minutes. We would like to better understand the layout of this place. Who can help?"