Round 67 Transcript

As Jeane draws closer to the Keeper of the Test, it raises a spectral hand, palm up, and a dark, pulsating energy erupts from its outstretched fingers. The air around Merrin's form begins to distort, as if reality itself is bending to accommodate the Keeper's power. Merrin's eyes, once full of life, now seem dull and lifeless, her body twisted into an unnatural pose, as if she's being reshaped by some unseen force. The Keeper's voice booms through the chamber, "You seek the truth of your companion's transformation? Or do you come for the test itself?" Its burning eyes fix on Jeane, demanding a response.

Jeane eyes Merrin's changed form warily, a cold dread settling in her stomach. That twisted shape, those lifeless eyes—whatever the Keeper did, it wasn't natural magic. She raises her mace slightly, ready to defend herself even as she tries to understand what just happened here. "Merrin... can you hear me?" Her voice is tight with concern, but underneath runs a current of suspicion. This whole setup stinks like a trap—the shifting bookshelf door, the collapsing catwalk, Merrin's fall, and now this... test? The Keeper's question hangs heavy in the air: truth or trial? The burning eyes bore into her, waiting for an answer. Jeane knows she shouldn't trust anything down here—every word could be a lie, every offer a poisoned gift. But leaving Merrin like that isn't an option either. Her fingers tighten on the mace handle as she weighs possibilities against consequences. The smart move would be to back away slowly, find another route, maybe even call for backup from above if Seraphine and Varrika can hear through this stone maze. But 'smart' rarely feels like the right word when people are suffering. And Merrin's not just suffering—she's been changed somehow, twisted by dark magic that smells ancient and wrong. Jeane knows she's walking into danger, probably a setup worse than she can imagine. But sometimes facing evil head-on is better than living with its consequences on her conscience. "I'm coming for you," she calls to Merrin, voice hard as steel despite the fear coiling cold in her gut. She takes a step forward, then another, each movement careful and deliberate across unstable ground. The Keeper watches her approach with that unnerving stillness, its presence a physical weight in the cramped space. Jeane knows she should be more cautious, should try to gather information or negotiate first, but every second Merrin stays like that—whatever's happening to her—feels like too long already. The heavy mace swings easy in her grip as she moves toward the Keeper, keeping a wary eye on its burning eyes. "What did you do to her?" she demands, voice low and dangerous now. Not asking for permission or information—the question is accusation, challenge. She's not backing down anymore; whatever happens next will happen because she chose it. The spectral hand rises again as if in response, dark energy crackling between those translucent fingers once more. Jeane braces herself—this could be the start of a fight, or something worse—and waits to see what kind of test this thing has in store for her resolve.

I descend into the darkness below, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to make sense of what's happening around me. The rope burns through my palms as I lower myself hand-over-hand, each foot finding purchase on crumbling stone and rotting wood. Finally reaching the bottom of the shaft, I find myself in a narrow corridor lined with ancient stone walls—the air is musty and stale, filled with the scent of decay and something else... wrong. Like spoiled magic or maybe death that didn't quite take.

To my left, I see Seraphine—she's managed to free herself from the rubble that pinned her down. But Merrin is nowhere in sight, and the cold dread that settled in my gut earlier twists even tighter. She fell... she had to be down here somewhere!
The corridor stretches out before me, disappearing into the shadows ahead. Suddenly, the torches on the walls flicker and dim, casting eerie shadows on the stone floor. The Keeper of the Test appears at the far end of the corridor—its burning eyes fixed intently on me, making my skin crawl as it speaks in a voice that sends shivers down my spine.
"Your resolve will be tested further," it says, and I feel a fresh wave of terror course through me. What kind of test? What's happening to Merrin? Why did Jeane fall through the floor like that?

I dig through my pack with shaking hands, pulling out my heavy mace for protection. The Goddess made me her handmaiden to face situations exactly like this—darkness, uncertainty, the weight of saving lives. I won't let fear control me now.
"Stay back," I tell Seraphine firmly over my shoulder. "The whole thing could come down any second."
Then I'm moving forward, each step measured and careful across unstable ground. The corridor opens up into a larger chamber—hidden in the shadows, obscured by the flickering torchlight—and there she is: Merrin. But something's terribly wrong.
Her eyes are dull and lifeless, her body twisted into an unnatural pose against a wall covered in glowing symbols that pulse with dark energy. Whatever happened to her... it wasn't natural magic.