Round 73 Transcript

The Keeper's spectral hand crackles with energy once more, and a faint glow emanates from Merrin's body. "The trial begins now," it intones, its voice dripping with malevolent intent. Merrin's glowing eyes snap open, and she rises to her feet, her movements stiff but unsteady. The construct shifts its weight, the movement making the catwalk groan ominously underfoot. Halie and Jeane exchange a tense glance, their hands still at the ready. I lean forward, my eyes fixed on Merrin. "What have you done?" I demand, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tremor running through me. Merrin's gaze lingers on the construct before focusing on me. She speaks in a voice that is both familiar and yet, utterly alien. "I am ready," she says, her words dripping with an otherworldly energy. The glow from her body intensifies, illuminating the dark chamber. Suddenly, the air around us begins to distort, as if reality itself is bending to accommodate Merrin's newfound power.

Jeane narrows her crimson eyes at the shifting energies emanating from Merrin's altered form. "Soul binding of this magnitude… it's not meant for simple possession," she mutters to herself as much as to Halie and Seraphine. The construct looms before them, its massive clawed hand poised over Merrin like a dark god presiding over some profane rite. The catwalk groans beneath their feet, each creak echoing the tension in Jeane's gut. She takes a measured step forward, her leathery wings twitching instinctively as she assesses the situation. "Merrin isn't just possessed—she's been inducted into something higher through that binding ritual," Jeane explains, her voice low and urgent. The runic glow on Merrin's skin pulses with ancient power, each symbol a testament to the complex magics at work here. This isn't mere demonology; this is high-tier soul engineering, the kind of dark art that reshapes reality itself. Her gaze darts between Merrin and the construct, noting how both entities remain eerily still. "The Keeper said 'trial of worthiness'—there's an end condition here we can exploit if we're clever enough." Jeane's fingers curl around her arcane focus, but she keeps her hands lowered in a gesture of non-aggression. The last thing they need is another round of whatever this trial entails. "We don't have much time. Whatever Merrin is becoming, it won't be our friend for long if we don't act smart."

She turns to face Halie and Seraphine fully, her expression grave but calculated. "Here's what I'm seeing: the construct isn't attacking yet because this isn't a straightforward fight—the Keeper wants something from us." Jeane gestures toward Merrin with her free hand. "And Merrin? She's not possessed; she's being elevated through that binding. Whatever happens next depends on how we play this."

Jeane's voice drops even lower, barely above a whisper now. "My gut says we need to pass some kind of test or meet certain criteria before the Keeper will release Merrin—or before she fully transitions into whatever new entity she's becoming." The sorceress' eyes gleam with an inner fire, her mind already racing through possibilities. "We need to figure out what that trial actually is and complete it before Merrin changes too much. Once she's fully integrated, we might not be able to reach her anymore."

The catwalk groans again, louder this time, as if the very tower itself is warning them of the precariousness of their situation. "And while we do that," Jeane adds, gesturing at the unstable platform beneath them, "we need to secure our own footing. This whole structure feels like it could come down any minute."

I feel sick watching Merrin rise like that—her eyes glowing wrong, her voice carrying an echo I don’t recognize. The runes on her skin aren’t just marks; they’re a whole system of control, each symbol pulsing with dark magic. I grip my mace tighter, the wood rough against my palms. "What did you do?" I ask the… thing… that used to be Merrin. My voice comes out harsher than I intended, but fear does that.

Seraphine is frozen next to me—probably thinking about magic like I am. This isn’t just binding; this is elevation through force. The construct looming over us? That’s the real problem now. I shift my weight slowly, testing the ground. The wood creaks underfoot—unreliable at best. "We can’t stay on this catwalk much longer," I say to anyone listening. "And Merrin…" I trail off, unable to finish.