Round 18 Transcript

As the party finishes their brief respite, Varrika charges through the gate once more, her mace slicing through the skeletal horde with deadly precision. The abomination lunges at Merrin again, its massive arm knocking her to the ground. The rogue scrambles to her feet, firing her crossbow bolts into the undead creature's head, scattering its skull and sending it crumbling to dust. Halie's eyes widen as she struggles to maintain her divine energy, her magic flickering precariously. She stumbles backward, her holy flames dimming as her power wanes. The magical wards on the gate pulse with malevolent power, their ancient energy resisting the party's attempts to bypass them.

The wards on that gate are ancient—older than anything I've ever seen before. They're pulsing with dark energy, actively resisting us. If we try to force our way through again, it could trigger an even worse spell. Jeane moves closer to the runic symbols, her eyes narrowing as she studies them intently. There has to be a pattern here, some kind of sequence or key that'll let us pass without setting off the wards. Halie—you have more experience with divine magic than I do. Can you see anything in these symbols that might help? Something that looks holy or protective instead of cursed and trapping? As she speaks, Jeane keeps a wary eye on the skeletal horde surrounding them, her hand never straying far from one of the arcane foci at her belt. And Merrin—if you're going to shoot those skeletons, aim for their heads. Regular blows won't do much against undead flesh, but a well-placed bolt can scatter what's left of their brains and buy us some breathing room. She turns back to the gate, tracing one of the runes with her finger without actually touching it. The magic here is… wrong. It feels hungry, somehow. Like it wants something from us before it'll let us pass. We need to be careful—whatever's waiting on the other side, it clearly doesn't want visitors.

I watch in horror as Varrika’s second charge through the gate ends just as disastrously as the first, her mace clattering uselessly against the unyielding stone. The skeletal horde advances, their bony fingers grasping at my friend’s robes, pulling her back into our frantic circle.
Merrin’s crossbow bolts find their mark, scattering the abomination’s head into a rain of foul-smelling dust, but it does little to slow the relentless tide of undead creatures pressing in around us. Halie stumbles, her divine energy waning as the magical wards on the gate pulse with increasing malevolence, their ancient power seeming to feed off our desperation.
Jeane’s words about the gate’s hunger send a chill down my spine, but they also spark an idea. If this magic is so old and so potent, perhaps it responds to something other than brute force—maybe a spell of its own kind? A counter-spell of some sort.
I frantically rifle through the pages of my spellbook, my eyes scanning the intricate diagrams and arcane formulae. The words blur before me as I search for anything that might match the complex weave of dark magic holding the gate shut. My heart hammers against my ribs as I flip to a new page, then another, desperate to find something—anything—that can save us from this impossible situation.
I turn to Jeane, my voice tight with urgency. "Jeane! Your theory about the wards being a kind of exchange... it might be right. But what if we could offer them something else? A different type of magical energy that they recognize as superior or more ancient?"
The succubus looks up from where she’s crouched, tracing the runes with her fingers, and I see a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. "Like a counter-spell," she says, her voice a low murmur over the din of battle. "Something to trick the wards into thinking we belong here. But what kind of energy could possibly be considered more potent than something this old and powerful?"
I flip another page, my mind racing as I try to recall every scrap of lore on ancient magic I’ve ever studied. "There are a few schools of magic that predate even the oldest known warding spells," I say, my voice trembling slightly as I read aloud from the book. "'The Necromantic Rites of the Whispering Dead'... 'The Invocations of the Void-Touched Archmages'... 'The Forbidden Cantrips of the Celestial Conclave'."
Jeane’s eyes widen at the last title, and she shakes her head firmly. "No," she says, her tone leaving no room for argument, "not those. Anything but that."
She looks up at the gate, then back to me, her expression a mixture of resignation and grim determination. "But maybe... maybe if we combine elements from a few different schools? Something that draws on both life and death magic, light and shadow? It could be just crazy enough to work."
The idea is reckless, bordering on suicidal, but right now, our only other option is to die here in this horrific place. "It’s our best chance," I say, closing the spellbook with a soft click. "We have to try something."
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come. If this works, we might survive to face whatever lies beyond that gate. If it fails... well, better to die trying than to be torn apart by these unholy abominations. "Everyone—get ready. We’re about to cast the most dangerous spell I know, and I need all of you focused and ready to move when it takes effect."
I turn to Halie, whose face is pale with exhaustion but whose eyes still blaze with an unbreakable will. "Halie... can you lend me some of your power? Just enough to boost this spell. I think we’ll need every scrap of divine energy we can get our hands on."
The cleric nods without hesitation, her hand reaching out to touch mine. A warm, tingling sensation spreads up my arm as her magic flows into me, mixing with the frantic energy already crackling in my veins. "Do it," she whispers, her voice strained but resolute. "We end this now."

I keep a wary eye on the abomination as Jeane and Seraphine work frantically to decipher the gate's wards, my fingers tightening on the crossbow.
Another skeleton lunges at me, its bony hands grasping for my throat. I sidestep its attack, bringing the stock of my weapon down on its skull with a sickening crunch. The creature crumples to the ground, but I know it won't stay down for long.
Varikka's mace swings wildly, scattering bones left and right as she fights to clear a path to the gate. Halie staggers back, her holy flames sputtering and wavering as her divine energy fades. "Halie!" I call out, "we need you to hold that barrier spell for just a little longer! Jeane and Seraphine are working on a way through!"
The cleric nods weakly, bracing herself against the wall as she musters what remains of her strength. I take a deep breath, my eyes scanning the chamber for any sign of an opening in the skeletal horde's ranks.
Just then, I hear a low hum emanating from the runic gate, growing louder and more insistent with each passing second. The ancient wards pulse with an eerie blue light, their power seeming to build to a crescendo. "Everyone—get back!" I shout, "Whatever Jeane and Seraphine are doing, it's about to happen!"
I take a step forward, ready to charge through the gate the moment it opens, when suddenly the runes explode in a blinding flash of light. I throw my arm up to shield my eyes, feeling the heat of the magic wash over me like a physical force.
When the glow fades, I lower my arm cautiously, blinking spots from my vision. The gate stands open, its wards shattered and its ancient power broken. Beyond, I can see a long, dark corridor leading deep into the heart of the tower, its walls lined with more of those same eerie runes.
But there's no time to marvel at our feat—another screech echoes from the depths, louder and more urgent than before. Whatever lies in wait for us beyond that threshold, it knows we're coming.

I feel my divine flames guttering, the magic I drew upon for the barrier spell beginning to slip away as exhaustion takes hold. The wards on the gate pulse with dark hunger, their power feeding off my fear and desperation. I stumble backward, pressing against the cold stone wall as the skeletal horde presses closer, their bony fingers reaching for me. "No," I gasp, looking around frantically for an escape route that doesn't exist. "We can't go through that gate—whatever's on the other side, it wants us. I can feel it."