Round 110

The corridor air was thick and still, the dust motes catching the dim light from their torches in lazy spirals. Merrin moved ahead with the practiced silence of a seasoned scout, her boots barely whispering against the stone floor. Varrika followed close behind, her hand never straying far from the haft of her heavy mace. The walls here were older than memory itself, cracked and crumbling under the weight of centuries, perhaps millennia.

Then came the sound—a low groan that seemed to rise from the very bones of the tower. A section of wall near Merrin gave way suddenly, collapsing inward with a cascade of stone and dust. The halfling woman stumbled, her reflexes sharp but not quite enough to prevent the full force of her fall. Pain exploded in her ribs as she hit the ground, the breath driven from her lungs in a single, agonized gasp.

Varrika was there in an instant, her powerful dwarf's hands gripping Merrin's shoulders to steady her. "Merrin! Are you alright?" The warrior's voice was gruff with concern, her eyes scanning the surrounding darkness for any sign of further threat. Dust hung heavy in the air around them, obscuring what lay beyond the circle of their torchlight.

Merrin sucked in a ragged breath, her vision swimming as she fought through the pain. "I'm... I'm okay," she managed, though the lie was obvious even to herself. Each movement sent fresh jolts of agony through her torso, but she gritted her teeth against it. "Just... just give me a moment." She tried to push herself upright, only to have Varrika's firm hand press her back down.

"Stay still," the dwarf commanded, her tone brooking no argument. "You've done damage to yourself—let me see." With practiced efficiency, Varrika began to examine Merrin's ribs, her calloused fingers probing gently but insistently for the source of the pain. The halfling winced as Varrika found what she was looking for—a sharp intake of breath hissing through clenched teeth.

"Based on that reaction," Varrika said grimly, "I'd say you've got at least one cracked rib. Maybe more." She glanced around the corridor again, her expression worried. "We need to get you out of here and somewhere Serrine can tend to you properly."

Merrin tried to sit up again, determination overriding the pain. "We can't just—" Her words were cut off by a fresh wave of agony as she moved too quickly. She sank back down, frustration warring with the need to be still.

Varrika's expression softened slightly at Merrin's obvious discomfort. "I know you want to keep going," she said, her voice gentler now. "But we can't afford to have one of our best fighters incapacitated. Let me help you back to where Serrine is—she'll have the supplies to properly bandage your ribs and give you something for the pain."

Merrin met Varrika's gaze, seeing the practical sense in her words despite the frustration gnawing at her. She nodded slowly. "Alright," she conceded. "But we move fast. I don't like being separated from Serrine any longer than necessary."