Round 97

Torches flare to life in the hidden chamber, casting flickering shadows across ancient symbols carved into the walls. Halie prays fervently over the stonework, her blue-grey eyes closed in concentration. The air around them grows colder still, and faint whispers seem to echo through the chamber. By the light of truth and the wisdom of the ages, reveal the secrets hidden here... She mutters the sacred words, feeling a strange energy pulse through the stones at her touch.*

Seraphine stands ready with her mace, eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. Stay alert, Halie, she hums. This place feels... wrong. Like something ancient and hungry sleeps here.

As the torches relight, Halie's gaze falls upon a small piece of parchment half-buried in the dusty floor. What's this? She kneels carefully, using her dagger to gently pry it free from the stone. The paper is brittle with age and partially burned at one edge, but a few lines of faded script remain visible.

Jeane's voice carries down through the darkness, filled with barely restrained rage. You fools! Did you learn nothing from Merrin's demise? This entire tower is a deathtrap—every corridor, every chamber drips with ancient malice! Her crimson eyes flash dangerously as she continues, The very stones weep dark energies! Those... She gestures contemptuously toward the halted skeletons below. ...abominations are merely the most obvious manifestation of this place's corruption! Tread carefully or join your friend in whatever fate awaits those who meddle with forces beyond mortal comprehension! Jeane's voluptuous form trembles slightly—not with fear, but with barely restrained fury and power as she maintains the binding circle. I hold this thing alone—barely!—while you two scramble like frightened mice! What use are your prayers down there when...