At the same time as it explodes, the crossbows fire. Catequil's metal frame takes most of them harmlessly as he powers up, then steams towards the tower entrance pure adrenaline fighting the fear. Hawthorne Follows everyone's lead, lobs his grenade towards scattering guards then charges, Sarr holds Serenity between him and a brave knight, guts him, then pushes the others towards the entrance.

Catequil took most of the bolts. Valk took the rest. He limps broken towards the tower, supported between a panicked Segue and Anja. If they can just make it to the more confined interior, maybe they can even the fight. The entry hall is a large round room, hardly perfect, but a damn sight better than the courtyard and the threat of Stuttley's artillery.

Passing through the archway, the fear lifts just a little, making room for the more natural terror at the thunder of boots overhead, from side corridors, the roar of alarms from outside. Surrounded. Closing in from everywhere except the cellars below. The cellars the group are aiming for. The winding, narrow cellars where only a few guards could approach at a time. The cellars where the temple entrance is supposed to be.

The cellars that are locked and bolted shut.

“Valk! Segue! Anja! Get the lock. We'll hold them off as long as we can!” Yells Quil. Guns and blades ready. The three fighters prepare for the onslaught.

It would be beautiful to watch. The three fight together in perfect harmony, one ducks just as anothers sword whips past to cut into an unsuspecting Dixie. Back to back. Side to side, pirhouetting across the hall to solve flank with each other like there are six men fighting, not three. Its like a dance to music.

So much so that Ella May puts it to music. Discordant Jazz clashes flares up from the balconies, offbeat to the steps of the fighters below. As the liquid sound washes over them, the grace seems to go from their movements, turning the dance into a mob. Sarr collides with Hawthorne, who trips onto the blade of a waiting knight, as Quil screams “No!” and there is a twang of buckling metal. There is no one to get between the lockpickers and the guards.

A warhammer to the face would knock even Catequil flying, as his head cracks on the flagstones, he hears a tiny 'click'

“Its open! Come on!” gasps Valk.

Too late. Sarr is surrounded, stood over a bleeding Hawthorne, while Quil clutches his face and tries to remember where he left his feet. More Dixie pirates are flooding into the already crowded hall. His eyes meet Hawthornes, who reaches out a shaking hand to his friend, blood dribbling from the fingertips, then bursting into flame on the stone floor.

Like a spark to an oilslick, the flames extend out and away, curling impossibly around the walls, under knights legs and eating into the ancient hangings. Screams of pain, backing away, a few faltering blows from the injured Sarr. The band plays on from the balcony but the knights fall back.

Its either fight the fire, or lose the tower. All hands. The adventures take the seconds to escape, crawl into the cellars, slamming the door behind them. They are free from persuit for now…