Round 89

Jeane’s crimson eyes flare with rising irritation as more wood splinters shower down around them. Thirty seconds... thirty seconds she mutters through gritted teeth, her voluptuous form tense beneath the dark leathery wings. Absolutely not. Her voice takes on dangerous edge despite obvious strain maintaining multiple spells*—Here’s what my sorceress experience tells me about upstairs entity: that wasn't frequency shift—it was binding recalibration. We're being slowly pulled toward...

Across the foyer, Silra’s teal eyes snap to Halie. Tactical problems require tactical solutions, not blame assignments. Halie’s blue-grey eyes meet Jeane’s crimson gaze across the flickering binding threads—But here's what my clerical training tells me: tactical problems require tactical solutions, not blame assignments. Halie adjusts her emergency protocol components again despite visible strain—Twenty-five seconds remaining is indeed pressure timeline. But absolute commitment means immediate activation on signal without hesit...

Silra’s teal eyes track both Halie and Jeane across the flickering binding threads while her fingers maintain the complex hand signs for her shield spell. I can trigger the directional charges—probably five seconds total with my stomach like this—but if we fuck up the timing, those threads will pull us all upstairs before we can react. Her gaze sharpens on Jeane's crimson eyes. And yes, the distension is a liability, but it doesn't mean I'm useless. Twenty-five seconds until whatever...