Round 23

The darkness of the tunnel swallowed Silra whole as she rappelled down the rope with a fluid motion, the scuttling noise beneath her intensifying into a cacophony of scraping claws against stone. Ash erupted from the grating near the opening, shrouding the area in an acrid haze. Jeane stood firm at the edge of the crumbling road, her arcane energy crackling between her palms as she stared down into the abyss below.

The air was heavy with the smell of ash and smoke, a constant reminder of the devastation that had ravaged Gravehill. Jeane's crimson eyes narrowed as she studied the grating, her gaze lingering on the deliberate pattern of claw strikes. Those weren't random movements; they were a test, a probing of the structure's limits. Silra reappeared beside her, her teal eyes narrowing fractionally as she analyzed the same rhythmic scraping pattern.

"Those aren't tremors," Silra murmured, tracing the stress fractures Jeane had mentioned earlier with one gloved finger. "Someone down there is trying to determine exactly how much force this section can take before collapse." The tension in her voice was palpable, a reflection of the unease that had been building within her since their last encounter with the tunnel's dark inhabitants.