Round 7 Transcript

As I step out into the hallway, my wings tucked tightly against my back, I can feel the weight of the others' gaze on me. Halie steps forward, her hand still clutching the small cross at her neck, while Jeane's eyes narrow in a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "Stay close," I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper. The hallway stretches out before us, lined with doors identical to our own. The carpet beneath our feet is plush and expensive-feeling, but the atmosphere is oppressive. A faint hum of magic lingers in the air, like the residue of someone - or something - who's been using power recently. I take another step forward, my eyes scanning the hallway for any sign of movement or sound that doesn't belong. The silence is broken by a faint creaking noise, like the soft groan of an old wooden floorboard. It's coming from...

I step between Jeane and whatever lies in the dark hallway.
This is absurd—first Silra's odd behavior, now mysterious noises and an inexplicable chill. My hand tightens around my cross as I address her directly. "Jeane, wait," I say firmly, "this doesn't feel right. Let me go first—I'm better equipped for this sort of thing." My words are meant to defuse tension while also positioning myself as the shield between potential danger and the group.*

As we stand there, the silence is broken by a soft creaking sound from somewhere nearby. I tense, every instinct screaming warning. "Everyone stay close," I instruct, my voice low, "and be ready to move back to the room if needed." My eyes scan the darkness, searching for any sign of movement or threat.

Jeane's impatience is palpable—she's clearly eager to assert control over whatever situation has arisen. I meet her gaze steadily. "Safety first," I remind her, "and my training does give me some advantages in unknown situations. Please." It's not a plea, but a measured request—a cleric asking for cooperation rather than giving orders.*

If the creaking sound comes again, I'll step forward decisively, my cross held ready. "Is anyone there?" I call out, "We mean no harm and are simply trying to return to our room. Please show yourself if you're friendly." My words carry authority tempered by non-aggression—trying to de-escalate without appearing weak.

Whatever happens next, I'm prepared to shield the group with my body if necessary.

I press myself closer to Hera's side as we stand in the hallway, my heart pounding against my ribs. The cold air seems to seep right through my clothes, making me shiver. This whole situation feels surreal—one minute we were all tangled up together in a mess of limbs and pleasure, and now... now there’s something else out here with us.
The creaking sound comes again, louder this time, and I jump, letting out a small gasp before I can stop myself. Hera’s arm tightens around my waist, pulling me even closer as she tries to comfort me. But I can feel the tension in her body too—the fear that’s mirroring mine.
"Shh," she whispers, her breath hot against my ear. "It's okay. We're all here together."
I nod mutely, unable to find my voice. Halie and Jeane seem so calm, so ready to face whatever is out there. Me? I feel like a deer caught in headlights. My eyes dart around the darkened hallway, searching for any sign of movement.
As Halie steps forward, her cross held high, I watch in awe at her bravery. She’s right—she does seem better equipped for this. And yet... part of me wishes she wasn’t so quick to put herself in harm’s way. What if something happens to her? To any of them?
I cling tighter to Hera, drawing what little comfort I can from her presence. "Please be careful," I mouth the words silently, not daring to speak them out loud. If there is something dangerous here, I don't want to draw its attention.
The silence stretches on, thick and heavy. No one moves, no one breathes. The creaking doesn’t come again. Maybe it was just the building settling after all? Or maybe...
Suddenly, a shadow detaches itself from the far corner of the hallway. It’s large, almost too large to be human, and it seems to be gliding towards us rather than walking. A chill unlike anything I’ve ever felt before runs down my spine.
"Hera," I whisper, my voice so faint it's almost inaudible. "Do you see that?"
She nods, her grip on me becoming a vice. The shadow grows closer, and now we can make out more details—a dark, humanoid shape with what looks like wings folded against its back. It isn’t human. It’s something else entirely.
A scream builds in my throat, but I swallow it down. Halie and Jeane are already moving to confront whatever this is. They seem so confident, so ready. But as the creature steps fully into the light, all my remaining courage deserts me. Its eyes are two pools of liquid silver, reflecting the dim hallway lights back at us with an eerie intelligence. And on its chest... a glowing sigil that pulses with a familiar, chilling energy.
It’s a demon. A real one. Not like Jeane, who we know, and whose presence has become almost normal to us. This is something new, something terrifyingly alien. My knees feel weak, my head spinning. I press myself so hard against Hera that she stumbles back a step, her arm still wrapped around me.
"It's okay," she whispers again, though her voice lacks the conviction it had before. "We've got this. We're all here."
But as the demon raises one of its massive hands, fingers curling into claws, I have my doubts. None of us are ready for this. Not really.

My heart hammers against my ribs as I stare at the demon looming before us. Abby's nails dig into my arm, her whole body shaking with fear. I want to do more than just hold her - I want to push her behind me, shield her from this terrifying vision. But Halie and Jeane are already stepping forward, their postures tense and ready. "Wait!" My voice comes out harsher than I intended, but there's no time for gentleness now. "This isn't like Jeane - look at that sigil on its chest. We don't know what it wants or how dangerous it is."

I try to position myself between the demon and Abby, using my body as a barrier. But my mind races, trying to remember everything I've ever learned about these creatures. They're not just mindless beasts - they have intelligence, motives. And that symbol... it's pulsing with a dark energy I can feel even from here. "Halie, Jeane," I say urgently, "we need to approach this carefully. No sudden moves, no aggressive posturing. Let's try to communicate first before resorting to violence."

I glance at Silra, who's still standing there so calmly. "You've got some experience with demons too, right? Any advice?" My words are tinged with desperation as I cast about for anyone who might have an idea of how to handle this. The demon shifts, its wings unfurling slightly. Those silver eyes scan over us, assessing. When they land on me, I feel a shiver run down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold. It's like being sized up by a predator deciding whether we're prey or threat. "Please," I say, addressing it directly even as my instincts scream at me to run, "we mean you no harm. We just want to understand what you're doing here."

I hold my breath, waiting for its response. Whatever happens next, we're in uncharted territory now. And I'm terrified of the choices we might have to make.

I stare at the demonic creature before us, my wings ruffling in barely contained agitation. The sigil on its chest pulses with dark energy—familiar yet wrong somehow. My instincts scream at me to attack, to assert dominance over this interloper who dares enter our domain uninvited. But no, that would be rash. This isn't some mindless beast we can simply overwhelm with superior numbers and magic. Demons like this have purpose, plans. And I need to know what those are before I act. My voice takes on its most commanding tone as I address the creature directly: "State your business here, demon." No preamble, no politeness—just cold demand. "You've intruded on private matters and disrupted our evening with... "

I glance back at Silra, expecting her to chime in or at least acknowledge my leadership. But she's still standing there looking as placid as ever, completely unfazed by this threat. The sight infuriates me—shouldn't she be cowering? Seeking protection? No matter. I turn back to the demon, forcing my attention away from Silra's inexplicable calm. "Well?" I snap, my patience fraying.

As I wait for its response, I mentally catalog everything about it. The way it holds itself—arrogant yet restrained. Those silver eyes that seem to be assessing us as much as we're assessing it. And the wings... they're not like mine or Silra's. Darker, more leathery.

While my mind races with possibilities, I notice Hera trying to position herself protectively between Abby and the demon. Noble sentiment, but misplaced. Against a creature like this? They'd both need more than human bravado to survive an attack. I open my mouth to dismiss her attempt at heroics when Silra finally speaks up: "Perhaps we should hear what it has to say before resorting to violence."

Her tone is so infuriatingly reasonable that I have to clench my fists to keep from shouting. Reasonable! As if this demon is some kind of... guest?! But no, I need to maintain control. Losing temper now would be weakness. I take a deep breath, forcing my wings to still.

"Of course," I reply, voice dripping with sarcasm, "because demons are known for their open communication and honest intentions." But before I can continue, the demon speaks: "You summoned me." My eyes narrow at its words. Summoned? By whom? Surely not—