Round 95

As Sister Hale's mace struck true, the creature reeled back, its scaly hide torn and bleeding. Jeane seized the momentary respite to complete her teleportation incantation, yanking Sister Hale clear of the bridge just as the beast's claws scrabbled wildly at the air. The cleric landed hard on the rocky ground below, her leather armor creaking in protest.

Jeane stumbled back from the effort of maintaining her teleportation shield around Sister Hale, arcane energies crackling dangerously at her fingertips. Seventeen patterns, my ass—this containment protocol is far more sophisticated than I anticipated. Her crimson eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation downstream, where the ground still shuddered with unseen activity. She clenched her fist around a small, rusty key that seemed to hold secrets of its own, its unassuming presence belied by the complex web of wrongness signatures it had unlocked.