Round 130

Jeane lunges forward as Seraphine begins to slip over the edge of the crumbling stone ledge. Her fingers close around the elf’s wrist just as gravity takes hold, yanking her downward with a startled cry. "Fuck!" Jeane grits out through clenched teeth, her own grip precarious on the shifting rock as she strains to pull Seraphine back up. "Climb! Use your damn feet!" The wind howls around them, carrying with it the faint sounds of Merrin’s voice echoing up from below—she’s still alive, still calling out for help.

Seraphine scrambles frantically, her injured shoulder screaming in protest as she tries to find purchase on the sheer stone face. Her free hand scrabbles at loose rocks and ancient mortar, finding no solid hold. "I can’t—it’s too smooth!" She manages, her voice tight with exertion and fear. The stone under Jeane’s hands groans ominously, dust showering down as the entire section shifts again. She knows they have seconds before the whole passage collapses inward, taking them both into the abyss.*

With a desperate heave, Jeane manages to haul Seraphine partway back up, but her own grip is failing. Her fingers are slipping on sweat-slick stone. "Grab onto me!" She shouts, extending her free arm toward the elf woman dangling below. "Now! Before this whole fucking thing comes down!"