Round 4

As Jeane's fingers danced across the ancient runes, the air thickened with an ominous energy. The pulsing patterns seemed to writhe and twist under her touch, their edges sharpening like razor-sharp claws. Merrin watched warily, her eyes darting between the runes and her companions, the weight of their collective fate pressing down on her shoulders like a yoke. Varrika stood ready with her hammer at the fore, her expression a mask of determination, while Halie kept her holy words at the ready, her eyes fixed on the entrance to the tower.

Seraphine's voice cut through the tension, her words laced with a sense of gravitas. "This is no ordinary magical barrier," she murmured, her gaze sweeping across the group. "The runes are not just a lock; they're prison bars." Her expression turned grave, and she turned to face Jeane, her voice low and urgent. "Your assessment is correct - this binding isn't just protective, it's hostile. We cannot simply pick this lock or force our way through."