Round 7 Transcript

I lean in closer to the gate's groove, my crimson eyes narrowing as I concentrate on the magical signature emanating from it. The lock's keyed to life essence—I can feel it. My voice is barely above a whisper, but carries an undercurrent of something older than the stones around us. Seraphine, your spells might trigger dormant protections if we're not careful. I trace the rune pattern with one clawed finger, leaving faint silver sparks in its wake. Merrin, you've got nimble fingers—I'll provide the sight to navigate whatever traps are waiting. The air around me shimmers slightly as I prepare a minor spell.

But before we begin, understand this: if those dark sorcerers inside sensed us tampering with their gate like clumsy children, they'd have time to prepare an ambush. We need finesse, not force.

I step between Seraphine and the gate, gently but firmly pressing her back with my hand. Sister, wait. My eyes meet hers, a silent plea for patience. The power here is ancient and not to be trifled with by raw magic. Merrin's skill will serve us better than spellfire. I turn to face the keyhole, pulling out my silver holy symbol. Its edges catch the dim light as I trace the runes around its perimeter with a steady finger. Jeane, stand back. The dead may sense your power as surely as the living do. My voice is soft but carries the weight of authority learned in sacred chambers.

Without hesitation, I place my holy symbol against the groove, pressing it deep until it clicks into place. A low groan fills the air as gears unseen begin to turn within the stone. Sisters, take cover behind me. The guardians will know we're here soon enough—let them see only light and faith when they come. The gate shudders, its surface vibrating with the strain of unlocking after millennia. I clasp my hands before me, eyes closed in silent prayer, ready to meet whatever emerges from the darkness with the unwavering shield of my conviction.