Round 66

As the ground pulsed once more, Gravedigger Renn's trembling form crashed against the wall, his terror-smell intensifying like a noxious cloud seeping into every pore. Silra swiftly retrieved the rope, her movements economical and precise, while Sister Hale adjusted her stance with deliberate care. The runes on the sarcophagi pulsed ominously in sync with each vibration, feeding off Gravedigger Renn's panic like a dark entity savoring weakness.

Sister Hale's silver holy symbol seemed a meager comfort against the growing sense of unease that threatened to overwhelm them. She felt the rhythm of the pressure plates through her boot soles, the deliberate THRUM-THRUM-THUD steady and unyielding despite Gravedigger Renn's violent convulsions. The ground itself seemed to pulse in time with each vibration, counting down seconds before something awakened fully, its hunger for terror-smell surging like a dark tide.

Silra's teal eyes remained fixed on the pulsing runes, her expression a mask of calm determination, even as she struggled to muffle Gravedigger Renn's terrified gasps. The air was heavy with tension as they stood poised on the pressure plates, their movements a testament to the calculated risk they'd taken by attempting to communicate with whatever lay buried beneath them.