Round 7 Transcript

Jeane’s fingers crackle as she channels her power; the violet glow of the gate swells, then snaps back to a deeper, darker hue, and a skeletal figure shudders into existence at the threshold, its bone‑clad arms raised in a silent warning.

I feel it—the ancient hunger in these wards. Jeane’s red eyes narrow as she studies the skeletal guardian blocking our path. Interesting. Not a true undead, but a conjuration bound to the gate itself. Limited life span, likely. She raises her hand, and shadowy wings unfurl from her back with an ominous rustle, casting us all in darkness for a moment. Stand aside, you bones. Her voice carries the authority of command, not entreaty.

The guardian doesn’t move. Its skull tilts slightly, empty sockets seeming to focus on Jeane—and then it lunges forward with surprising speed, bone fists raised. Jeane’s expression remains cool as she sidesteps the attack effortlessly, her movements fluid and controlled. Predictable. She snaps her fingers, and a tendril of shadow whips out from behind the skeleton, wrapping around its ribcage. Halie, Merrin—prepare to move on my mark. Varrika and Seraphine, guard our flanks. The shadow tendril tightens, and with a loud crack, the skeletal guardian’s spine snaps. It collapses in a clattering heap, but even as it falls, Jeane is already scanning the gate beyond for further threats. The violet runes pulse once more, dimming slightly. The wards are weakening—but we have seconds before whatever bound this sentinel summons another. We must proceed through the gate now, while the magic is disrupted. She turns to face the group, her expression severe but reassuring. This is our moment. Stay close and follow my lead. Do not linger on what you see inside—focus only on the objective: the sword. Are we clear? Halie nods, her grip tightening on her holy symbol. Merrin swallows audibly but manages a jerky nod. Varrika grunts in acknowledgment, while Seraphine offers a small smile of support. Jeane steps forward, her wings half-spread for protection. Then let us proceed. The Time-Splitting Sword awaits—and with it, power beyond imagining. She pushes against the gate, and despite its ominous appearance, the heavy stone panel swings open with surprising ease, revealing a corridor of swirling shadows ahead. The group exchanges glances, apprehension mingling with determination. Onward, then. Jeane’s voice echoes in the suddenly chill air as she leads us into the tower’s yawning darkness.

I step between Varrika and Jeane, my silver holy symbol raised in a gesture of warding. Sisters, wait. This guardian may serve multiple masters—its maker's will, yes, but also our own fears made flesh. I fix the skeletal figure with a steady gaze, feeling the old magic clinging to its bones like cobwebs. Let me try something before we unleash more power against these walls. Drawing on my training, I begin to chant softly, a prayer of insight rather than destruction, hoping to peel back the layers of compulsion binding this thing.

Settling Move: Attempt to dominate the skeletal guardian through divine persuasion and knowledge, forcing it to reveal its true purpose or weakening its resolve. I meet its empty sockets with my own eyes, seeking not to destroy, but to understand what ancient command still drives it. Speak, spirit of bone. What oath binds you here? My voice carries the authority of a higher power, and I feel a tremor run through the earthen wards around us, responding to my challenge.

Roll: Wisdom (Insight) or Religion check vs. guardian's spellcasting save or its conjuration binding strength