Round 95

The chamber's walls seemed to breathe around them, ancient stone groaning under the weight of centuries. Varrika stepped forward cautiously, her boots scuffing against the uneven floor. The mirrors lining the room shifted with every flicker of torchlight, their surfaces catching the flame and reflecting it back in ways that made her head spin. She'd faced worse than a few creepy mirrors, though she had to admit these ones gave her the distinct urge to look away.

Merrin's sharp eyes caught movement in the shadows - or perhaps it was just the flickering light playing tricks on her vision. She whispered something under her breath, but Varrika couldn't make out the words over the creaking of the stone around them.