Dirk, from his vantage post, watches the door slowly open, and then through the opening slide the head of a blonde haired waif. He quickly recognizes her as the slightly built woman he has seen on deck, before sunrise, performing exercises and flexibility drills to the delight of the sailors. Dirk allows a bit of the tension in his muscles relax, knowing she is a passenger on the ship. As he watches, she looks around, her eyes passing over his hiding place but missing him in the gloom, and then she moves into the room, followed by two men. The first is a tall man, easily 6 and a half foot tall, but with the pallor and thinness of an aesthetic. From the various pouches and knickknacks hanging from his belt, and his garishly decorated robe, Dirk quickly identifies him as a wizard. Could this be the man who cast the lightning bolt he had heard? He feels his muscles tense again, already marking the mage as the first target for his knives if need be. Behind him is a stockier man, slightly under 6 foot, but broad, in fairly good shape, with bright red hair and a squared off red beard to match. This one is holding a well-worn mace, which due to its seeming wetness appears to have been used quite recently, to someone else's detriment. From the prominently displayed Holy Symbol, it is obvious the man is a cleric of some type, though Dirk is unable to tell of which god in the darkness. The most amazing thing to Dirk, however, is the fact the man was wearing a chainmail shirt. Dirk, not overly fond of swimming, thinks of how quickly a man would sink of thrown overboard in one of those, as his eyes return to the woman.

Trina allows her eyes to roam over the small space between the mountain of material stacked on either side of her, deciding that it offers a good place to make a stand. Bertold and she could block the passage fairly effectively, allowing Arak to stand behind them and either work spells, or use his...no, he doesn't have his staff, she remembers. Well, she can only pray that whatever spells he has left will be enough. She gestures to her companions to come closer, which they do.

"Bertold and I will block this passage, if any make it this far down" Trina quietly says, "Arak, you stay behind us, which will allow you to cast your spells without interruption."

Arak moves to position himself behind Trina, once again silently practicing spells for the battle he is sure will come. Bertold notices that in his excitement he has left the door open, and quickly moves to shut it.

Dirk, with his superb hearing, notices the light footsteps of someone creeping up the hallway almost as soon as his three new holdmates have entered the room. Obviously, Dirk thinks to himself, someone has followed them and is hoping to catch them unaware. He feels his muscles tense again, as the footsteps stop outside the still partially opened door. Dirk silently curses the fool who left it open, and watches as the woman waves her companions closer. As both men turn their backs to the door, Dirk watches a shabbily dressed man slip in through the small opening and move quietly behind some boxes just to the left of the door. Dirk wonders what the second man is planning, as he watches the quick meeting below him dissolve. He watches with a sinking heart as the shorter man moves towards the door, knowing his decision has just been made for him. Dirk waits till the last second, until he can see the man in the shadows readying himself to attack the oblivious cleric, and then lets his first two blades fly. He reflexively reaches for new ones before the first two have hit their mark.

Trina, watching her friend move towards the door, catches a sudden movement on her right. Glancing up, she sees a man she somehow overlooked on entering the room throwing something directly at Bertold!