Round 122

Jeane’s crimson eyes narrow as she completes her slow circuit of the chamber, each symbol glowing with a different hue under her scrutiny. The air crackles around her fingertips as she tests their power, the rhythmic pulsing quickening in response. Seraphine presses herself against the far wall, her dark elegant hair spilling over her shoulders as she watches Jeane work. The elf’s keen gaze flicks to Merrin, then back to Jeane, anxiety evident in every line of her body. Right. Time magic. On shifting ground in a collapsing tower. Jeane mutters the incantation, her voice low and focused as she traces complex sigils in the air. The symbols flare brighter for an instant before dimming again, their rhythmic pulsing quickening slightly.

Merrin shifts her weight, her hand still resting casually near her sword hilt. She eyes Jeane’s work with sharp-eyed suspicion. So what now? We just stand here and wait for the whole place to come down around our ears? The ground beneath them shifts again, a subtle rumble that sends a fresh wave of dust cascading from the ceiling.