Round 28 Transcript

The blue light from the symbols on the ground intensifies, casting an eerie glow over the catwalk. Halie's hand remains extended, her fingers hovering just above the Bound Spirit's outstretched hand. The spirit's voice whispers in their minds, "The first trial is not of strength, but of wisdom. You must answer a riddle, and if you succeed, you shall pass into the next stage."

The air around Halie shimmers, as if reality itself is bending to accommodate her move. Merrin's eyes narrow, her grip on her mace tightening in protest. Jeane's eyes flick to the symbols, her brow furrowed in concentration. A faint, acrid scent wafts up from the symbols, like smoke from a dying fire. The blue light grows brighter, illuminating the dark recesses of the tower's walls. Suddenly, a low, ominous chuckle echoes through the chamber, making the stone floor vibrate beneath their feet.

I pause my reach, glancing at Merrin's warning grip on my arm. Her caution is wise—I've learned she rarely overstates a threat—but something about this spirit feels... different. I don't understand it myself, but there's a pull here that goes beyond mere curiosity. The symbols beneath us pulse with ancient power, and the air itself seems to hum with stored potential. Seraphine's knowledge might be our best guide right now—she senses something too, something familiar from her studies. Maybe we can use that. I turn my attention back to the Bound Spirit, my expression set in its usual mix of compassion and stern resolve. "Tell me," I say, voice measured but firm, "what kind of wisdom do you offer that's worth testing for? And what exactly does this trial entail—risk to us, consequences if we fail?" My hand hovers, ready to grasp or defend as needed. I won't rush into blind faith, not after everything we've faced already. But neither will I let fear paralyze us entirely. There's a balance here, between courage and caution—and it's my duty as the party's moral compass to find it. Even if it means wrestling with my own doubts first.

I grit my teeth, my eyes darting between Halie's outstretched hand and the pulsing blue symbols on the ground. "Halie, I get that you want to help, but we don't know what we're dealing with here," I hiss under my breath. "That spirit could be trying to pull us into its realm or something worse."

My hand tightens on my mace, the weight of it comforting in my grip. "Jeane," I say, turning to the sorcerer, "can you cast a protective ward? Something that might keep us safe if this does turn out to be a trap?"

I take a step back from the edge of the catwalk, my heart pounding in my chest. "Seraphine, what do you make of those symbols? They look... familiar to you?" My eyes scan the dark recesses of the tower, looking for any sign of movement or danger.

There's a tightness in my chest, a sense of unease that won't go away. "Something feels wrong here," I mutter, "like we're walking into a trap we can't even see yet." But there's no going back—not now. Not after coming this far.

So we push forward, one careful step at a time, trying to outsmart whatever ancient evils might be lying in wait.