Round 2

The air crackled with residual magic as the gate's surge subsided into an ominous silence. The crack remained—a dark eye staring at them from the stone depths of the tower.

Jeane's hand still glowed faintly, arcane energy dissipating in slow pulses. She had instinctively pushed back against whatever had reached out, but now she stood uncertain, her crimson eyes fixed on the opening. "Whatever you are," she repeated more softly this time, "we mean no harm to this place." Her wings shifted slightly, leathery membranes rustling.

Halie took a step forward, silver cross held high, though her knuckles were white with tension. "We hear your words," she addressed the darkness, her voice steady despite the fear that made her heart race. "But the corruption in your voice speaks louder than any words. Tell us—what guards this gate? What manner of creature do we face?"

Merrin stood close to Jeane, her hand resting casually on a dagger hilt. She met Halie's eyes for just a moment before nodding almost imperceptibly. They had all heard the same thing—the unholy cadence that spoke of something ancient and wrong.

Seraphine moved around the group, her keen eyes scanning the stonework around the gate. The runes were fascinating—clearly magical in nature, but unlike anything she'd studied. She paused beside Halie, speaking low enough for only their inner circle to hear. "I can try to analyze the ward structure more closely. Might give us insight into what's waiting."

Varrika grunted, her gaze never leaving the crack in the gate. "Aye, and I'll hold the line if anything decides to come through uninvited." Her stance was wide, feet planted firmly, a warrior ready for whatever might emerge from the shadows.

The decision hung heavy—proceed with caution into the unknown darkness, or retreat and risk losing their chance at the Time-Splitting Sword forever. The whispers continued, a constant reminder of the dangers that lay beyond the stone barrier.