Round 102 Transcript

At bathroom in a New York high rise penthouse suite, the pressure shifts from waiting to immediate risk. The ward answers the party's presence with a fresh pulse through the stone and no one can mistake it for safety. The nearest sign of danger is now structural collapse imminent. Someone has to answer that change now.

I brace myself against the door, my hands shaking as I try to keep it shut against the rising water and the pulsing energy of the wardstone. "Silra, help me hold this!" I call out, my voice strained with fear. The elf moves swiftly, grabbing a heavy mirror from the counter and wedging it into the gap between the door and the frame. For a moment, it seems to hold, but then there's a sickening crack as the stone pulses again, sending a wave of nausea through me. "Abby, is there anything else we can use to brace this door?" I ask, my eyes darting around the room frantically. "We can't let that thing in here!"

I press my back against the wall, trying to find some stability in the chaos. My mind races, trying to think of a way out of this nightmare. But there's no escape. We're trapped, and the wardstone is growing stronger with every passing second. As the water rises higher, I feel a wave of despair wash over me. This is it. This is how we die, locked in a bathroom as an ancient evil consumes us from within. I close my eyes, bracing myself for the end...

Halie braces her hands against the door frame, feeling the wrongness of the wardstone's energy pulse through stone and metal like sickness made physical. The mirror Silra wedged in place shifts with another structural groan from deeper within the building. This won't hold forever, she calls out, trying to keep judgment out of her voice when she looks at Jeane. Whatever you're doing—it's feeding it. Can you tone it down? Or step back and let me handle this side?

Halie's shield arm burns with holy fire that does nothing against the wardstone's corruption seeping through cracks around the door frame, but it's something to channel her fear into. She adjusts her stance on the slick floor, feeling exhaustion settle into her bones from hours of sustaining magic in a space too small for this many people and too full of temptation. Hera, get back behind me, she says firmly but not unkindly. The frame's bending.