Elta folds her giant arms and rests her mace against her forearm. It felt odd- no armor, no shield.  Bah! She surveys the room and quirks a brow<span style="color: orange"><b> "Well going separate ways worked so well for us the last time..let's give it another go?" </b></span><br/><br/>She walks to the door to the right, places her hand on its handle and looks to the barbarian.<span style="color: orange"><b>"Unless you think we should just continue with the whole...stickie togetherness?"</b></span>She isn't sure what to do, but she tires of these games. With her fingers white knuckled around the doorknob, she waits for an answer.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>