Round 5 Transcript

Jeane's wings twitch beneath her cloak as Merrin steps forward into the oppressive darkness of the tower entrance. The ancient runes on the stone walls pulse with a malevolent energy she can feel in her teeth, and she knows—knows—that whatever compelled those lines into existence was not kind. "Merrin," Jeane's voice cuts through the thick air like a razor. "Stop there." She steps forward, letting her eyes scan the runes. This isn't just magic clinging to stone; this is intent made manifest, and it remembers how to be awake. "Don't let your fingers near them. Not unless you want whatever's lingering here to take notice."

Varrika pushes on ahead, mace ready, and Jeane grits her teeth at the dwarf's impatience. Foolish bravery has a way of getting people killed when they're dealing with forces beyond mere steel and courage. "Wait," she calls out, her voice carrying an edge that makes even the wind seem to pause. "We don't know what we're walking into." Jeane draws a deep breath, feeling the ancient wrongness of this place settle on her like dust. She needs to maintain control here—needs them to listen and follow orders if they want to survive whatever lies ahead. She focuses, drawing upon the dark power that courses through her veins, and casts a simple but potent ward spell—a barrier against the worst of the corruption seeping from those damned runes. It won't last long, won't stop everything, but it's something. "Let me bless us first—might offer some protection from whatever's lingering here." Her wings shift uncomfortably beneath the cloak as she completes the gesture. "Whatever this place was before, whatever happened here... we're walking on graves. Let's try not to disturb the occupants too much."

Merrin's eyes dart around the crumbling entrance, her crossbow at the ready. "Alright, let's see if we can't pick this lock without alerting the whole tower to our presence." She kneels down and starts working on the ancient mechanisms with practiced ease. As she works, Merrin keeps a watchful eye out for any signs of undead or traps. The air feels thick and oppressive, as if the very stones are watching them. "I don't like this place," she mutters under her breath. "Feels like we're walking into a tomb."

The lock clicks open with a soft snick, and Merrin stands up, brushing off her hands. "There we go. Varrika, Halie - you two take point. Jeane, Seraphine - stay close behind me. We don't know what's waiting for us in there."

Merrin steps through the doorway, crossbow at the ready, her heart pounding in her chest. The darkness seems to press in from all sides, and she can't shake the feeling that they're being watched. But there's no going back now. They're committed to seeing this through, no matter what lies ahead.