Round 133 Transcript

At dark corridor in 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 grip the door frame harder, my palms already burning from residual wardstone energy. "Hera, I know you're scared but we can't just abandon this position." The wardstone pulses again, stronger this time, and I swear I feel something slither across my fingers—Jeane was right about that part. My skin crawls with the need to pull back, but if we lose ground here, whatever's downstairs gets inside. "We have to hold until Silra finds another way out or until help arrives." I glance at Hera, her face pale in the dim light. "I won't let anything hurt you."

Jeane grits teeth against the pulse that rattles her skull—another wardstone answering call from something on the other side of the door. The barrier spell bleeds through her fingers, too much power for too long in too small a space. She snarls at Silra's hesitation: "Move your ass toward that shaft opening now or I swear I'll shove you myself!" Her wings flex involuntarily inside the corridor, useless appendages itching to fly away from this collapsing death trap. The wardstone pulses again, stronger this time—something alive is definitely crawling across the stone doorframe through her hands, and she won't let it touch them. She needs everyone clear of direct contact before next pulse. "Everyone except Silra, back against the far wall now!"