Strang and Maloric stand poised for battle.
Startled by the sudden intrusion and not a little surprised by seeing Mallear’s struggle with the Warp creature that he banished with a death-defying fall the ragged horde of maniacal cultists hungry for blood and mayhem momentarily waver.
Bleeding and broken, Mallear lies gasping yet somehow alive not far from the others. A swirl of Octarine haze hanging in the air around him is all that remains of the Deamon.
Wounds = 0
Fatigue lvl = 2
Having be successful in navigating the broken section of the pipe above Thaddius Constantine had found a stairwell and is decending in near-darkness to the lower level where his companions are about to engage the baying pack of unfettered madness. His cybernetic eye allowing him to navigate without concern.