Round 1

As Jeane circled the perimeter of the tower, her crimson eyes scanned the ground for any sign of weakness in the ancient warding magic. The stone beneath her boots was cold and unforgiving, a testament to the centuries of death and decay that had accumulated within these walls. With a flick of her wrist, she extended her dark leathery wings, their span casting a shadow over the rough ground. The air seemed to vibrate with the weight of the runes, etched into the stone in a language only the most skilled sorcerers could decipher.

Halie's voice cut through the stillness, her words laced with a sense of foreboding. "We should be cautious here," she warned, her hand resting on the grip of her mace. "These wards are powerful—likely tied to something dangerous within." As she spoke, the runes seemed to glow with an ominous light, their edges pulsing with a malevolent energy that made the air around them feel heavy and oppressive.

Merrin's eyes darted back and forth, her quick hands searching for any hidden mechanisms or weaknesses in the warding magic. "Looks like our client wasn't joking about this place being locked tighter than a dragon's hoard," she quipped, forcing a jaunty tone despite the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. Halie's serious expression remained unwavering, but Jeane could sense a flicker of concern behind her eyes.

Seraphine's approach was deliberate and measured, her sharp eyes fixed on the intricate runes etched into the stone. The air around her seemed to vibrate with anticipation, as if she were waiting for the perfect moment to strike. With a slow, deliberate movement, she extended her hand, tracing the shape of one of the sigils without quite touching it. The faint hum of energy emanating from it was almost palpable, a low-level vibration that spoke of wards and warded magic.