Round 119

The tower's death rattle began as a groan that became a shriek, stone grinding against stone in its final convulsions. Merrin slammed her back against the pillar, crossbow raised and pointed at the shifting debris-choked doorway while Varrika braced herself wide-legged against the opposite wall, mace up defensively. Dust swirled in thick clouds that obscured everything beyond arm's reach, making it impossible to see what fresh horrors might emerge from the collapsing corridors they'd just fled.

"Stay... stay put," Merrin hissed through gritted teeth, eyes scanning the perimeter for movement in the choking dust. "Let it settle before we—" Her words cut off as another tremor hit, stronger this time, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the ceiling above Varrika's head. The dwarf woman cursed and ducked instinctively, her scarred face tightening with fear even as she maintained her defensive stance. The rubble-blocked doorway shifted ominously, more stone grinding free somewhere beyond their line of sight.

Merrin tracked the movement with her crossbow, finger steady on the trigger. "Something's moving out there," she called across the dust-filled space. "Big something." Varrika spat dust from her lips and shifted her grip on the mace handle. "Then we need to move faster than whatever it is," she growled back, voice strained with exertion and fear. "Before this whole damn place comes down around our ears."

The next tremor nearly knocked Merrin off her feet despite her braced position. She stumbled sideways, crossbow dipping dangerously before she caught herself against the wall. The ceiling above them rained pebbles and dust, a few larger chunks bouncing off Varrika's armored shoulders with sharp impacts that made her grunt in pain.

"Fuck this," Varrika snarled, pushing off from the wall and moving towards Merrin despite the ongoing tremors. "We're getting out of here now while we can still walk." She grabbed Merrin's good arm—her injured shoulder was useless for leverage—and half-dragged her away from the unstable doorway towards a seemingly more stable corridor section. The stone beneath their feet shifted ominously with each step, but they pressed on, desperate to escape the collapsing death trap.

The dust thickened as they moved deeper into the tower's bowels, visibility dropping to mere feet in front of their faces. Merrin kept her crossbow up and sweeping side-to-side, alert for any movement or sound that might indicate pursuit. Varrika maintained a firm grip on her companion's arm, half-supporting and half-dragging her through the unstable rubble-strewn corridors.

"Where are we even going?" Merrin gasped between labored breaths as they stumbled over yet another fallen section of wall.

Varrika didn't slow her pace. "Away from the collapse," she growled back. "And towards where we last saw Serrine." The very thought of their missing companion drove them forward despite the increasing difficulty of movement through the crumbling, shifting corridors.