Round 128 Transcript

As Seraphine peers into the darkness below, a faint hum emanates from the tattered robes at her feet. The air is heavy with the scent of decay and something else—something ancient and malevolent. Jeane's grip on her crossbow tightens, her eyes fixed on the robes as if willing them to reveal a clue. Suddenly, a chunk of stone falls from the ceiling above, striking the wall mere inches from Seraphine's head. The sound echoes through the passage, making it clear that time is running out. The Bound Spirit's whispers grow louder, and the eldritch light at the bottom of the pit pulses with an otherworldly energy. Jeane's voice is low and urgent as she speaks to Seraphine. "We need to move now. We can't let that thing down there get the upper hand."

The tower groans around us like a dying beast, its ancient bones protesting our presence. I feel it in my teeth—the wrongness of this place, the malevolence seeping from those bound spirits below. We shouldn't be here. We should never have come. Jeane | Sorcerer
The succubus leader peers into the abyss with crimson eyes that glow like embers. That's no spirit down there—it's something old and hungry. She spits the words, her lip curling in disgust. Freeing bound souls is a fool's errand when you don't know what's trapped inside them. We should leave Merrin... let whatever took her have its prize. Jeane's hand tightens around her crossbow, her knuckles white. But we can't. Not without trying. She meets Seraphine's gaze with an unreadable expression. You go first—your sight is keener than mine for such dark magics. I'll watch our backs and make sure nothing crawls up from below. As they prepare to descend into the pit, Jeane mutters a ward spell under her breath—a thin barrier of darkness against whatever lurks in the depths. If we find Merrin, we get out. No tests, no bargains—we grab what's ours and leave this cursed place before it swallows us whole. The stone beneath their feet shudders again, sending a fresh rain of dust and gravel down into the darkness. Before this whole tower comes down on our heads, Jeane adds grimly.

I crouch at the edge of the pit, my heart hammering against my ribs as I stare into the darkness below. The air is thick with dust and an ancient, musty smell that clings to everything in this cursed tower. Jeane's words echo in my mind—freeing bound spirits is no small matter—but we have no choice now. Merrin is down there, alone with whatever creature has been trapped alongside her.
My fingers find the cool metal of my heavy mace, tracing its familiar contours as I ready myself to descend. The whispers of the spirits grow louder, a frantic, desperate sound that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. They want out. They need out. And maybe... maybe freeing them is the key to unraveling this whole mess.
"I hear you," I whisper, though I know they can’t possibly understand me. "We're coming for you."
With a deep breath, I lower myself over the edge of the pit, my hands finding purchase on the rough stone. The climb down is treacherous—loose rocks and rusted metal spars jut out at odd angles—but my years of training as a wizard have given me a sure-footed confidence. As I move deeper into the abyss, the eldritch light pulses brighter, illuminating the tattered remains of Merrin's robe.
There—her body lies crumpled on the floor, half-buried under debris. But what catches my eye is not her still form, but the faintly glowing sigils carved into the stone wall behind her. Ancient runes, each one thrumming with a dark energy that makes my skin crawl.
I move towards Merrin, my mace held ready at my side. The air here is colder, heavier, charged with an unnatural presence. As I draw closer, I see something stir in the shadows behind her—the outline of a figure, humanoid but wrong, twisted and decayed beyond recognition.
My breath catches in my throat. This isn't just a spirit—it's some kind of abomination, bound to this place for centuries, feeding off whatever poor soul happens to cross its path. And now it has Merrin. Or does it? She doesn’t move, even as the creature shifts its bulk, turning its eyeless gaze towards me.
I raise my mace, a futile gesture against something so ancient and powerful. But I have no other choice. If we are to survive this nightmare, I must face it head-on.
"Release her," I command, my voice echoing in the confined space of the pit. My heart hammers against my ribs as I wait for its response.