Round 11

The ancient magic around them pulsed with anticipation, responding to their hesitation and doubt. It was as if the very air had come alive with malice, waiting for them to make a mistake. The entity before them leaned forward, its tattered robes rustling ominously. "You seek guarantees from one who is bound? Who am I to promise you anything but the trials themselves?" Its voice took on a mocking tone. "But very well... if you wish to leave, then leave. The forest awaits you... and its own particular brand of hunger."