Round 66

The runes pulsed with a rhythm that seemed to match Merrin's heartbeat, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls like macabre puppets. She stood frozen, her hand instinctively moving to the crossbow at her hip, eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. Varrika's voice cut through the tension, low and dangerous. "What is this place?" The dwarf warrior stood near the center of the chamber, her gaze fixed on something only she could see—a dark figure emerging from the shadows, perhaps, or some vision only visible to those lost in a trance. Her hand rested casually on the...