Round 8 Transcript

The violet light pulses again, brighter this time, and I feel a wrongness seep into my bones—profane magic trying to take root in consecrated ground. It's not supposed to work like this. Varrika, stop! I move without thinking, stepping between her and the gate as the mist tendrils curl around the dead things on the floor. My holy symbol glows with weak warmth against the chill of that violet light.

Merrin's right—we need to think, not charge. I turn to face the group, voice steady despite the dread twisting in my gut. We don't know what's beyond that gate or what's causing this mist. If we rush in now, we're playing into whatever trap is waiting. I meet Varrika's impatient glare with a firm look of my own. We have time. Let me check those runes—there might be a key sigil or a ward against entry we can break. The screeching sound grows louder, and more mist rises from the floor, but I stand my ground. Everyone stay where you are. If this is a magical seal, forcing it open could trigger worse defenses. I approach the gate carefully, eyes scanning the intricate carvings along its edge. Merrin, keep your back to me. Seraphine, shield yourself if that mist gets closer. My fingers trace the cool stone as I search for any signs of a breakable ward or hidden mechanism. Damn it—there's something here, but the corruption's made it hard to read. I press harder against one particular rune, feeling resistance before it clicks faintly. Wait! It responded—some kind of locking sigil. I focus my energy into the holy symbol, channeling a prayer for clarity. By the light that guides us, reveal this seal's weakness! The runes along the gate shimmer briefly, and I see it—the central sigil is fractured, broken in three places. But the fractures are tiny, nearly invisible. Found it! We need to target these specific breaks without damaging the rest of the carving. I turn back to the group, already formulating a plan despite the growing threat. Varrika, can you make a tool tip small enough to work on this scale? Maybe with your crowbar or a lockpick filed down? I glance at Merrin and Jeane. We can work in shifts—one person damages each fracture point while the others maintain watch. It'll take time, but it's safer than forcing the gate open blind. I move back toward them, keeping a wary eye on the spreading mist and its violet glow. We stick together, we stay smart, and we don't give this corruption what it wants—our lives rushed and panicked. My voice is firm, not preachy, just practical. Who's got the smallest tool?

I feel it—the wrongness of this place seeping into my skin like poison, trying to corrupt even my demonic flesh. That gate is sealing! My wings beat once, a sharp downward thrust that sends violet mist swirling. We don't have time for hesitation or tactical debate. The sword lies beyond that archway. I draw upon the arcane energies within me, feeling them pulse in sync with the gate's unnatural rhythm. I can force it open long enough for us to pass through—but once inside, whatever animated those skeletons will be waiting. We'll need to move fast and strike hard before this tower swallows us whole. I fix my gaze on each companion in turn, my voice carrying a dangerous seduction even as danger closes in. Halie—keep that holy symbol close and ready. Your light can burn away the shadows, but not this particular darkness. Varrika, I need you to lead the charge once we're through. Merrin, find our escape route before it finds us. The violet glow intensifies with each beat of my heart, and I raise both hands toward the gate. Stand back! This will be... unpleasant. I channel a surge of arcane energy into the gateway archway—an inverse spell designed to disrupt its magical seal for a precious few seconds. The runes flare once more before cracking apart like shattered glass.