Round 73

The runes on the sarcophagi erupted in a blinding flash of light, their ancient power surging like a dark tide as the entity fully awakened beneath them. Gravedigger Renn's convulsions intensified, his terror-smell thickening the air with an acrid tang that made it hard to breathe. The party held its collective breath as the ground trembled once more, then settled into a steady, deliberate rhythm: THRUM-THRUM-THUD.

Sister Hale matched Silra's timing perfectly across from her, their movements a testament to years of training and discipline. As they crossed plate after plate with surgical precision, the runes pulsed ominously in sync with each vibration, feeding greedily on Gravedigger Renn's panic like something ancient tasting weakness itself. The cleric's practical habit seemed out of place amidst the eerie glow, yet she moved with a quiet confidence born of duty and experience.

In the midst of this dance, Silra felt a sense of unease creeping up her spine. Gravedigger Renn's terror-smell was contaminating everything, making it hard to focus on the task at hand. She glanced over at her partner, her eyes locking onto Sister Hale's determined expression. Together, they were managing to keep their Intent in check, but she couldn't shake the feeling that one misstep could provoke something terrible. The ground continued to vibrate beneath their feet, a steady reminder of the ancient entity's deliberation – or lack thereof.