Round 10

As Merrin slipped into the room, her eyes darted from shadow to shadow, searching for any sign of danger amidst the thick scent of decay and a faint hum that set her teeth on edge. "Careful now," she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the creaking of old wooden beams. The air was heavy with secrets, and she knew it.

Jeane's eyes flickered across the chamber, her succubus nature allowing her to pierce through layers of magic most humans couldn't perceive. She sensed a binding older than anticipated, the runes sealing the door but containing something inside - three distinct wards, each layered with enough death-trap magic to disintegrate flesh and bone.

Seraphine stepped into the chamber last, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The air was alive with an ancient power, a thrumming presence that pressed in on every side. Her fingers traced the intricate patterns of the gate's runes, now inert and cold under her touch. Jeane's words about binding magics echoed in her mind, chilling her to the bone.