My hand now affixed to this cursed mace, I was not keen that the warrior was eager to return to the estate and strike whilst the iron is hot (as our new dwarven smithy companion would say), but battered and bruised we needed some rest, thankfully a good night's slumber, the mercy of Mar Nod, and my healing staff provided rapid recovery, so we set out the next morning with our retinue of men and my army of chaos.
The assault was not as productive as we hoped, a hasty barricade barred our way and neither dwarf nor thief could determine the wicked traps the guardians of the estate had laid for us, first a stone block fell on our warrior and our dwarven comrade, followed by the most disgusting and foul of slimes that began to eat at the poor dwarf's face!
Several of us began to cauterise the dwarf's flesh to remove the slime as it dissolved his armour and threatened his body, fortunately aided by the lack of beard hair that had been singed off since our last encounter, meanwhile the alarm was raised and several goblinoid archers descended upon us.
We took defensive position on the stair as they unleashed a volley of arrows, harmlessly reflected by the steel wall of the warrior and his behatted dwarf companion, meanwhile one of my army passed her oil to the front rank, who lit and launched them towards the enemy, alas without effect as it failed to light.
The warrior and chapeau'ed dwarf rushed forward, slicing down the goblin archers, making quick work of them aided by a torch thrown to ignite the oil, the combination of steady blows and firey oil made short work and they were disbanded, not before we hammered one of them and took as a prisoner.
Not much was revealed during interrogation apart from the origin of the cult and my wretched mace, my resolved was to removed the accursed item, but not before the green and singed dwarf recovered and we returned to the keep.