Round 136 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.

Halie grips the doorframe tighter as another wave of energy pulses through the stone. Her hands are already slick with lubricant from the spilled bottles inside—she'd tried to use it as an insulator against the wardstone's corruption, but now her palms just slide on the smooth surface. She can feel Hera pressed against her back, injured and breathing fast, and something twists in Halie's gut that has nothing to do with magic or fear of death. "Jeane," she says, voice low and controlled despite the adrenaline screaming in her veins, "stop channeling that spell. You're going to burn yourself out." She doesn't mention what happens when Hera gets too close—doesn't need to. The way the elf's corruption pulses with every sexual act they witness is obvious enough. "There has to be another way."

I feel the wardstone pulse again, a sickening vibration through the floor—through my teeth—and Hera looks ready to bolt. The spell trembles in my hands; maintaining this barrier is like holding a live coal. I shift my grip on the magical focus, trying to steady the flow of power while water from the broken shower laps at my ankles. Every second feels like hours. "Hera," I snap, voice tight with concentration and barely controlled panic, "move your ass toward that shaft opening now or I swear I'll shove you myself." The wardstone pulses again—louder this time—and the floor beneath us groans. We don't have minutes left.

I grip the heavy mirror tighter, my heart pounding in my chest as I peer through the crack in the door at the pulsing wardstone. Jeane's barrier spell seems to be holding for now, but who knows how long that will last? The water from the broken shower is already ankle-deep and spreading, and the structural integrity of the building feels like it could give way at any moment. I glance over at Halie, her hands burned from contact with the wardstone energy as she grips the doorframe. She looks just as terrified as I feel, but there's a determined set to her jaw. She catches my eye and nods, a silent acknowledgment of the shared danger we're in. The elf, Silra, is huddled against the wall, her eyes wide with fear. I don't know what kind of corruption the wardstone has wrought on her, but it's clear she's in no condition to help us escape. I turn back to the door, my mind racing as I try to come up with a plan. Jeane's magic might hold for now, but trying something seems like the only option we have left. With a deep breath, I grip the mirror tighter and prepare to make my move.