Turn 46

    "Yestin! Give us a hand with that Pole-arm of yours!" Emmett yells, bracing himself in as strong a defensive position as he can against the rushing beast. Obviously far less agile than the Kensai, the Half Man relies on his bladework and Gond-given gifts to give his companions openings for attacks.
    The giff rushes in, improvised weapon at the ready, but either his wounds or the yitsan's darting motions defeat his aim, and the pole strikes sparks from the floor as it skids harmlessly across the stone. The creature jerks back a step with an ear-shattering screech, blind snout swiveling as it pinpoints them all by scent and sound alone.

* * *

    Outside, ibn Fadil chooses to give the touchy mage a few moments to respond to his shout (as opposed to simply storming aboard and grabbing him). After a controlled breath or two it occurs to him that leaving by ship might be a good or even essential idea, if the two of them become cut off from the group. He looks around the ship more carefully. Beyond it is an opening large enough to allow the ship to come and go freely.
    Alais sits in the helm to see what happens, totally unaware of the shouting; it seems normal enough, and he knows he can fly her despite the helm's odd configuration. He lifts a foot off the deck experimentally; the ship is nimble and responsive under his control.
    When the ship unexpectedly lifts, ibn Fadil hastens to scramble aboard and up to the helm. "Nice ship," he says, grudgingly. "I am going to go and see how the fight is going, Master Zeremin. Please be prepared to leave quickly. If you see a large, toothy, clawed monster called a yitsan before any of the rest of us, I suggest you leave immediately. Otherwise, please do not move the ship from here until I come back. Understood?" He seems annoyed.
    "Yes, yes, whatever." Alais seems quite pleased.
    Hurrying back up the tunnel, ibn Fadil peers out from behind the hanging with all due caution. Seeing the situation little changed, he calls out, "Captain! There is a ship back here, a 'mosquito'. I think we should go and try to warn the _Cat_."
    "We've almost got this door open," Delmar shouts back. "You and Alais go, the rest of us will try to get back to the Distraction!"
    "Yes, sir!" He meet's Nyala's gaze, snatches out his sword (now sheathed, but regrettably not yet cleaned) and slides it across the floor to her. By way of fond farewell he calls, in Elvish, "Do not trust these dwarves for an instant!"
    She gladly exchanges the sword for her clumsy pole and gives him an abbreviated wave, unable to take her attention from the creature.

* * *

    Hiro's eyes communicate his thanks to Emmett; the wounds the Steel Saint has received are relatively minor, but will no doubt be with him for some time to come. His morning routines will be all the more difficult because of them, assuming he ever has the opportunity to resume them.
    Hiro races down the length of the polearm and uses its firm angle as a support to drive his own blade, but it turns against a still-armored section of hide. The tail sweeps out again, viciously; it fails to entangle any of the three, and the many-toothed jaws snap on air, but the claws again bite home painfully. [7 more points.]
    Nyala darts in with a grim expression, but her borrowed blade misses its target just as Hiro's did, and Delmar's doesn't even come close. With the creature more or less penned in by blades at the moment, Emmett dares a lunge that strikes home deeply; the yitsan is looking much the worse for wear now, and backs off a couple of steps, hissing uncertainly.
    Several dozen feet above the swirling melee, Valarin wishes he had more weapons. He also wishes these dwarves had been more interested in anything but sound-proofing as the door slowly edges open.
    "I'll be right behind you," he warns the dwarf pressed against the opening.
    "I certainly hope so," Gorn replies, giddy with terror. "There!" It is finally wide enough to pass if one doesn't mind a scrape or two. He bursts free and dashes down the hall, shouting at the top of his lungs in Dwarvish, "Help! Help! The wizard's dead and there's a monster loose! Help!"
    Fifty feet down the corridor he takes a sudden turn and runs smack into a couple of other dwarves who had drawn the short straws and been sent to see if there was any communication from Blade. Axes leap to their hands, Gorn tries to hide behind Val, and for a moment things look very grim indeed, but Gorn's shrieking is finally understood. One of them accompanies the two back to the forge - behind them, of course - while the other runs off to inform the rest, mindful that this might be some twisted trap. Val's longer legs mean he reaches the door again well before the two dwarves.
    

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