Round 52

The tower screamed around them—a living thing protesting violation of its sacred space. Jeane moved across the catwalk with predatory grace, wings half-spread for balance as she tested each stone before committing her full weight. The chamber floor yawned far below—a dizzying abyss that had already claimed one life this evening. Merrin’s mangled corpse sprawled on the floor far below—a grim reminder of the tower's appetite for careless flesh. Halie’s crystal pulsed ominously as the structure’s whispers intensified around them.* "This isn’t random," she called up, her voice sharp with irritation, "the structure is alive—adjusting itself like a creature defending its lair." The books that had been floating moments before now lay scattered across the floor, their pages rustling ominously.