Round 4 Transcript

The violet glow from the gate flares suddenly, a crackling surge of cold magic that arcs outward in a jagged burst; each skeleton shudders, taking 2d6 bludgeoning damage and toppling to the stone floor as the Shatter spell detonates. The runes pulse brighter still, then hiss as a hidden pressure plate releases a shockwave of violet energy that knocks every party member back five feet from the gate.

"Duck!" I cry out, throwing myself to the side as the shockwave of violet energy explodes from the gate. My heart pounds in my chest as I skid across the rough stone floor, feeling the icy blast of magic whip past me. Coughing, I push myself up onto hands and knees, peering around through the settling dust. The skeletons lie shattered and motionless at our feet, but the gate still pulses with an ominous violet light. I can feel the magic prickling against my skin, raising the fine hairs on my arms. "Well, that could've gone better," I mutter, dusting off my cloak with a trembling hand. I cast a sidelong glance at Jeane, a wry smile tugging at my lips even as my stomach twists with nerves. "Maybe next time we should try the knock before the spell, eh?"

I grunt as I'm knocked back by the force of the blast, my heavy armor clattering against the stone floor. Shaking off the sting of the impact, I haul myself to my feet and peer around through the settling dust. "Everyone alright?" I call out, my gravelly voice cutting through the sudden silence.

My eyes scan the fallen skeletons, a grim satisfaction settling in my chest at their crumbled forms. But I know better than to let my guard down. "Those runes..." I mutter, squinting at the pulsing violet light etched into the gate's surface. "They're still active. This magic, it's old. Dangerous."

I tighten my grip on my crossbow, the familiar weight of the weapon steadying my nerves. "We need to move carefully," I warn, my voice a low growl. "Whatever's waiting for us in there, it's not going to be friendly."

I kneel immediately beside Merrin after the blast, my silver holy symbol clutched in one hand and my heavy mace ready in the other. "Everyone!" I call out, my voice firm but strained with concern. My eyes dart around the group— Jeane looks shaken but unharmed, Seraphine behind cover, Varrika already back on her feet. The gate's runes still pulse ominously. This magic is ancient and dangerous.

I turn to Merrin, helping her up with a steady grip. "Are you hurt? We need to move away from the entrance before it triggers again." My mind races— this place is alive with traps, conserving magic for emergencies, keeping my companions together.

Jeane Cromwell dusts herself off with practiced grace, her crimson dress barely disheveled despite the magical concussion. That was... illuminating. She surveys the fallen skeletons with a critical eye, noting how the violet glow still pulses from their shattered remains.

The tower's defenses are keyed to arcane disruption—likely tied to the gate itself. Another spell might trigger something worse, or perhaps nothing at all this time. Her wings ruffle slightly in irritation. We need to proceed methodically, not like a pack of startled rabbits. She gestures for Halie to join her near the gate. Cleric, can you detect any lingering unholy energy here? Something is feeding these... respawns. If we can disrupt that source, we might clear an easier path forward—at least temporarily.