Round 12

Jeane holds her ground at the top of the stairs—crimson eyes locked on the entity descending toward them. You want to talk? Fine. But make it quick, because my patience runs thin when things start crawling out of walls and pretending they're not demon-spawn. She gestures with one hand, arcane symbols glowing along her fingers. I've got a barrier ready to drop if this goes sideways, and trust me—you don't want that. It'd ruin your whole evening.