Round 80 Transcript

As Jeane stands before the Bound Spirit, her determination and defiance palpable, the construct takes another step closer. Its burning eyes flash with an otherworldly energy, illuminating the runes etched into Merrin's skin. The air seems to vibrate with anticipation, as if the very fabric of reality is about to tear apart. Merrin's glowing eyes lock onto Jeane, her voice barely above a whisper. "You will not save me that easily," she hisses, her words dripping with malice. The runes on her skin pulse faster, casting an eerie glow across the chamber. Halie takes a step back, her eyes darting between Merrin and the construct. "Jeane, maybe we should—"

But Jeane cuts her off, her voice firm. "We can't just leave her here," she says, her gaze never leaving Merrin's face. "I won't let you keep her trapped." The construct seems to sense her resolve, its burning eyes narrowing in response.

I step back from the edge of the collapsing platform, my crossbow falling uselessly to the ground. This is madness—Merrin's soul trapped by some ancient binding ritual? And you want to... what? My voice cracks with barely controlled panic. Reverse that? Release those spirits? Do you have any idea what might be bound here? What kind of power we’re dealing with? I look at Jeane’s reckless bravado, then Seraphine's strained concentration on the rope, and finally Merrin’s... thing... trapped in runes and malice. We came here for answers, not to become part of some demonic bargain! I check my inventory: Heavy Mace, Crossbow (useless), Healing Potions, Rations. None of this prepares us for soul binding or spirit release. This isn't heroism—this is suicide by arrogance! The beam groans again, shifting ominously. Fine—you want worthiness? Here’s mine: I won’t let any of us die today just so Jeane can feel heroic! I yank out a length of rope from my pack. Help me brace this side before the whole floor collapses! My hands burn with rope friction but I work faster, tying off the support beam with desperate knots.

I glance at Merrin again—her eyes still on me. Unsettling. Predatory. This isn't our friend anymore. If we get out alive, we come back prepared. With research. With blessings from my order. Not charging in blind like children playing at salvation! The runes pulse faster, feeding off our fear and desperation. Stop egging them on with this ‘test’ nonsense—you’re just confirming their power over us! I finish the last knot, panting. There. Now we don’t die from structural failure while trying to save Merrin from... whatever this is. My mace feels useless against ethereal bonds but I grip it anyway. You want worthiness? Here’s mine: I won't let any of us become sacrifices in this thing's game.

Jeane steps forward boldly despite the unstable footing, her dark wings extending slightly as if for balance. Enough games! She snarls at the bound entity looming over Merrin's trapped form. You claim worthiness isn't about words—but actions speak louder than riddles. So here's my action: I'm not leaving without Merrin. Her crimson gaze locks onto the construct hovering near Seraphine—a shift that sends a chill down her spine. Our worthiness will be judged? Jeane scoffs dismissively. Judge this then! We've faced worse evils than your cryptic tests and unstable architecture. She gestures sharply toward Merrin’s glowing, rune-etched form—trapped beneath those malevolent symbols.

The bridge Seraphine frantically built to span the chasm groans ominously under strain; Halie's crossbow clatters uselessly to the ground as if mocking their preparedness. Typical—our best-laid plans undone by ethereal threats and crumbling foundations. Jeane’s wand feels warm in her grip, arcane energy crackling just beneath the surface.

She turns to face Halie directly now, ignoring the groaning catwalk for a moment. If anyone suggests we abandon Merrin now, I'll hex them into next week—friend or not. We came here together; we leave together or not at all. The weight of that declaration settles over her like a shroud.

But even as she says it, doubt creeps in—is this reckless bravado? Or genuine conviction? The Keeper's right about one thing: worthiness isn't just words. She meets Seraphine’s gaze across the precarious beam. What does that mean for us though? What act proves we're worthy to save her? Jeane glances back at Merrin, her glowing eyes unnervingly fixed on her. Whatever this test is—whatever sacrifice it demands—I'm in. Her voice drops to a dangerous murmur. But make no mistake: I won't barter my soul or commit acts that betray who we are. There's a line, and I know where it is. Jeane steps closer to the Bound Spirit now, unafraid despite the malevolent energy pulsing off her in waves. So show yourself properly then—if you're so eager to judge our worth, give us something concrete! Her wings flare slightly wider—a subconscious gesture of defiance. What must we do? What price do you demand for Merrin's freedom from this... arrangement? The catwalk groans louder beneath her feet. Jeane doesn't look down—can't afford hesitation now. Time's running out, and I'm not leaving empty-handed or without answers. Her fingers tighten around the wand’s shaft—magic crackling at her fingertips, ready but restrained. Speak plainly: what do you require of us? What trial proves our worthiness to save Merrin from whatever hellish bargain she made? The air grows thick with anticipation as Jeane awaits the Keeper's response. Behind her, she hears Halie and Seraphine exchange tense whispers—probably planning their next move or preparing for a hasty retreat if things go sideways. Let them fret—I won't budge on this. Seraphine’s voice cuts through the tension: Jeane, maybe we should—

But Jeane cuts her off, her voice firm. We can't just leave her here. She turns to face Merrin again, her glowing eyes locked onto hers. I won’t let you keep her trapped.