Round 7

As Varrika's gaze swept the dimly lit tower entrance, her eyes lingered on the ancient runes etched into the stone gate. The air was heavy with the weight of centuries of dark magic, and she could feel its malevolent presence stirring within her. Her grip on the heavy mace tightened, a reassuring weight in her calloused hands. "We stick together," she warned her companions, her gravelly voice cutting through the oppressive silence.

Jeane stepped forward, her wings unfolding beneath her cloak as she surveyed the runes with an intensity that bordered on reverence. The dark magic emanating from them pulsed with a power that seemed to remember how to be awakened, and she felt it stirring within her own being. Her crimson eyes gleamed with a fierce light as she reached out a hand to touch the nearest rune, its coordinates and commands etched into stone like a map to the unknown.