Round 5

As Jeane stepped into the oppressive darkness, her wings fluttering beneath her cloak, she felt an unmistakable malevolence emanating from the ancient runes etched into the stone walls. The air was heavy with the weight of centuries of dark magic, and she knew that whatever had compelled those lines into existence was not benevolent. Merrin's hands moved with practiced ease as she worked on the lock, her crossbow at the ready, scanning the area for any signs of undead or traps.

The silence was broken only by the soft clinking of metal against stone as Merrin's tools interacted with the ancient mechanisms. The hairs on the back of Jeane's neck stood on end as she felt the hairs on the back of her own neck stand on end, a primal warning that something was off. She knew they had to be careful, that one misstep could trigger a deadly trap or awaken a malevolent entity lurking in the shadows.

The soft click of the lock disengaging was followed by an eerie silence, and Jeane's eyes met Merrin's across the threshold, a silent understanding passing between them. With a deep breath, they stepped forward into the unknown, their footsteps echoing through the darkened tower like a death knell.