Round 8

Jeane focused every ounce of her concentration into maintaining the spell, the bright orb of light pulsing steadily above them like a miniature sun. The undead creature's eyes glowed with an eerie green flame as it stumbled back from Varikka's blow, but only for a moment. Already its rotting flesh was beginning to reconstitute itself, the damage reversing before their eyes. No... no, this isn't what I signed up for, she thought desperately, feeling her demonic nature screaming at her to flee. Her shadowy tendrils lashed out again and again, seeking to trip or slow the creature's advance, but it seemed almost impervious to such attacks. Focus, damn you! she hissed internally, sweat beading on her forehead as she fought to maintain control.

Merrin felt her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the undead creature raise its rotting hand towards Varikka once more, razor-sharp claws gleaming in the light of Jeane's spell. The dwarf warrior was putting herself in harm's way—brave, but reckless. They needed to keep this thing moving before it got too close. She saw Jeane's shadowy tendrils lashing out at the creature's legs, attempting to trip or slow its advance. It was a good try, but she could see the darkness building at the back of the succubus' skull—the demonic presence fighting for control. We need to keep this thing distracted and away from us, she thought frantically. But how? Her rogue's instincts screamed at her to find higher ground or a better vantage point, but the cramped confines of the tower's base offered little in the way of tactical advantage.

Varikka felt her heart pounding as she watched the undead creature raise its rotting hand towards her once more, razor-sharp claws gleaming in the light of Jeane's spell. Merrin was right—they needed to keep this thing moving before it got too close. But how? She glanced at Seraphine, the priestess' staff crackling with power as she worked on some kind of spell. "Hurry up with that magic, priestess!" she called out, her voice a low growl. "We need something big to take this thing down before it's too late." As she raised her mace for another blow, she felt the weight of responsibility settle heavily on her shoulders. Merrin was counting on her—depended on her—and she couldn't let her friend down.

The creature's gaze shifted back to Varikka, its attention refocused on the dwarf warrior. With an inhuman shriek that made the very air vibrate, it lashed out with one massive arm. Varikka tried to dodge, but she was committed too far into her attack. The blow caught her squarely in the chest, sending her flying backward as if struck by a giant's fist. "Varikka!" Merrin screamed, her crossbow forgotten as she watched her friend and protector tumble across the ground, the wind knocked out of her.