Round 1

As they stood before the ancient gate, its runes pulsed with a malevolent energy, casting an eerie glow across the surrounding terrain. The air was heavy with the scent of decay and rot, carried on the misty veil that shrouded the Whispering Woods. Weeds and vines had claimed the tower's stones as their own, wrapping them in a tangled web of green and brown. The gate's pulsating light seemed to beckon them closer, yet warned them away with its ominous glow.

Jeane's eyes narrowed as she circled the perimeter, her red gaze scanning every stone and rune. She traced symbols in the air that mirrored those on the stones, her wings rustling softly. "The gate is warded with dark magics," she murmured, her voice low and thoughtful. "This is old work, pre-Common tongue. Likely Elvish or even older." Her fingers danced through the air, as if sketching the runes themselves.

Halie approached the gate with careful steps, her silver holy symbol held out before her like a shield. The runes pulsed with an icy light that made her skin crawl. "The stench here is foul—death and decay mixed with something else, something wrong," she said, her voice steady despite the uneasy flutter in her stomach. Merrin and Varrika stayed close, their eyes scanning the surrounding area for any signs of hidden threats.

Merrin crouched down at the base of the gate, her halfling eyes scanning for traps or weaknesses. "Ahh, looks like someone's been trying to keep the party out," she quipped, forcing a light tone despite the unease twisting her gut. Varrika eyed the gate warily, her weathered hands resting on the haft of her mace. "Dark magic, eh? Figures this place would be booby-trapped."