Round 95 Transcript

As we reach the edge of the market district, the inn's sign creaks ominously in the wind, its wooden beams groaning under the weight of our exhausted bodies. The distant rumble of collapsing structures has faded into an unsettling silence, punctuated only by the soft clinking of Sister Hale's dagger against her belt. Gravedigger Renn's lifeless form lies on the ground, his legs still stiff from his collapse. The rusted key from a dead magistrate jingles in the wind, its presence a grim reminder of our failed test. Sister Hale's eyes dart between the inn and the tunnel entrance, her hand tightening around her symbol as if seeking solace in its familiar shape. The party's urgency is palpable, their breathing heavy with exertion and fear. The storm-dark sky above seems to pulse with an otherworldly energy, as if whatever is buried beneath Gravehill is now fully awakened and stirring. Do we:

The runes pulse hungrily around us as if hungry for more than just fear-smell now, and I realize we're not escaping this by walking away slowly or maintaining perfect formation. We're escaping this by running like hell before whatever is down there finishes surfacing and decides to crush us along with the collapsing tunnel. The plates continue their wild vibration—THRUM-THRUM-THUD-THUD-THUD—and I see Sister Hale's hand still on her dagger hilt, her eyes wide but not panicked. She gets it too—the moment has passed where clever offers or symbolic gestures matter. Whatever is buried down there isn't just evaluating us anymore—it's; ascending. The runes flare even brighter in response, and I feel the pressure of something ancient and massive pushing against the earth above us. The ground trembles again—THRUM-THRUM-THUD-THUD-THUD—and I know we have seconds left before this entire tunnel collapses. "Move now!" I shout across the plates as I launch myself forward, rolling off my pressure plate and onto solid ground just as the one beneath me erupts in a shower of stone and metal. Whatever is buried down there has decided to take its time surfacing through sheer force instead of patience, and now the plates themselves are becoming weapons. I spring back to my feet and grab Sister Hale's arm, pulling her off her own plate just as it begins to lurch upward with mechanical precision. Come on—this thing isn't waiting for us to be polite anymore!" The runes around what's left of the plates pulse hungrily—THRUM-THRUM-THUD-THUD-THUD—and I see Gravedigger Renn's body still kneeling there, perfectly still like a statue caught mid-collapsing. The tunnel walls groan ominously as they close in another inch, and whatever is buried down there roars its ascent into the world above—a sound like grinding stone mixed with tearing metal. We need to run—now!" I pull Sister Hale along behind me as we sprint through the collapsing passage, the ground heaving and buckling under our feet. The runes fade behind us as we escape whatever ancient wrongness has decided this is its moment to rise. We burst out of the tunnel entrance just as the entire structure collapses in on itself with a sound like the world ending, sending up a cloud of dust and debris that chokes the air around us. Fucking hell," I gasp, wiping sweat from my eyes and looking back at what used to be a careful system of pressure plates. Now it's just ; ruins. Whatever is buried down there has decided to take its time surfacing through sheer force instead of patience, and now the plates themselves are becoming weapons.

I stagger out of the collapsing tunnel entrance, my hands still gripping my symbol as if it could ward off whatever ancient horror has decided we're worthy prey now. THRUM-THRUM-THUD-THUD-THUD—the sound follows us even as we flee into Gravehill's market district. The storm-dark sky above pulses with an ominous light, and I can feel the wrongness bleeding off in waves that make my skin crawl. This isn't just a failed test—this is ascension. Whatever was buried down there has been waiting for something like us: desperate enough to try, arrogant enough to think we could pass judgment on ancient power, foolish enough to trigger its return. The runes' hungry pulse echoes in my mind even as the physical sound fades behind us. Sister Hale: I speak across our channel while running, my breath coming in short gasps. We didn't fail a test—we triggered an awakening. Those plates weren't designed to collapse—they were built to release something ancient and wrong from beneath Gravehill. The pressure we put on them wasn't failure but ; activation sequence. And now... whatever is buried down there isn't just listening anymore—it's joining us. We need to find shelter, regroup, and rethink our approach before that thing fully surfaces and decides what to do with the catalysts who released it. This isn't about Gravedigger Renn or his terror-smell anymore—this is about something ancient and massive that now knows we exist. I glance back at Silra running beside me, her face set in grim determination. You're right—the plates were a philosophical test disguised as mechanical failure. But I can still feel its attention on us, stretching across the ground like hungry tendrils seeking more than just Renn's fear-smell now. Whatever is buried down there isn't mindless—it chose to ascend through our Intent, and that makes it dangerous in ways I can barely comprehend. We sprint past panicking vendors and civilians fleeing the collapsing tunnel entrance. The ground beneath Gravehill groans and shifts as whatever is buried down there continues its ascent. I clutch my symbol tighter, though I know faith alone won't stop ancient wrongness from walking into this world. We need a plan—a real one this time—that doesn't involve stumbling into traps we don't understand. That inn might be our best option for now—walls between us and whatever's surfacing could buy us the moments we need to think clearly.