Round 74

Jeane ascended the creaking stairs with predatory grace, her wings half-extended for balance and intimidation. The scratching sound from below grew more insistent, and she felt the magical signature of their pursuer sharpening—Zha'thik was no longer merely searching, he was triangulating their position with deliberate speed. Fuck, this timeline just accelerated.

She glanced back at Halie, noting the cleric's pale face and trembling hands clutching that pathetic amulet. You want to try binding an ancient demonic entity with a few hastily improvised runes? Her voice dripped with contemptuous amusement. Be my guest—when it tears through your pathetic wards like tissue paper and starts feasting on our souls, at least I can say I tried to warn you.

But even as she spoke, Jeane's mind raced. The scratching sound was getting closer—they needed to move faster, needed more information. Fine. You want to play hero, go ahead. But do it up here where we have tactical advantages. She gestured sharply toward the upper level study/library. That room has better magical defenses already in place—warded boundaries that'll at least slow him down if he breaks through your little cleric charade.

Her crimson eyes gleamed with something predatory as she continued ascending. And while you're 'studying' this entity, I'll be right there monitoring every fucking pulse and fluctuation. Because unlike some of us, she shot a meaningful look at Silra, I actually know what I'm dealing with here.

Jeane reached the top of the stairs and stood aside, wings folding against her back as she waited for the others to follow. Clock's ticking, ladies. Every second we waste down here is another second that psycho downstairs gets closer.