Round 129

The stone passage groaned ominously around them, dust sifting down from the ceiling like fine snow. Seraphine pressed closer to Jeane, her keen elven eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement or magical residue. This entire structure feels... wrong. Corrupted. She whispered, more to herself than to her companion.* The binding magic here is ancient and powerful—far beyond anything I've encountered before.

Jeane’s wings shifted restlessly beneath her cloak, the leathery membranes rustling softly. Of course it is. Because why wouldn't we stumble into the one place in this damned tower where they're actually holding something worth finding? She rolled her eyes heavenward, then fixed Seraphine with a pointed look. And now you want to start poking at it with your arcane experiments? Brilliant plan.

Seraphine’s jaw tightened, a familiar flash of irritation sparking in her gaze. I wasn’t suggesting we begin a casual investigation, Jeane. If this entity is bound by ritual, there may be specific—

The air around them seemed to thicken suddenly, a palpable pressure pushing against their eardrums. A low moan echoed from somewhere below, vibrating through the stone underfoot. Seraphine’s hand instinctively moved to her mace, fingers curling around the familiar haft.* Was that... Merrin?