Round 110

The water slams into Merrin with the force of a physical blow, cold and unforgiving. She gasps, swallowing a mouthful before her instincts kick in and she surfaces, coughing and sputtering. The current tries to sweep her under again, but she fights it, grabbing onto a floating piece of debris—a section of broken chair—and using it as a makeshift float.

Across the rapidly flooding chamber, she sees Seraphine. The wizardette has managed to scramble up onto a small ledge, clinging to the wall like a terrified kitten. Her robes are plastered to her body, dark hair streaming water, face pale with shock and fear. She's shouting something, but Merrin can't make out the words over the roar of rushing water and groaning stone.

Merrin redoubles her grip on her makeshift float, kicking hard to stay afloat. The water's already waist-deep in most places now, swirling with dangerous speed. More skeletal remains surface as the flood rises, bobbing past like grisly buoys. She spots a floating torch—Jeane's, by the looks of it—and snatches it before it can be swept away.

"Seraphine!" she yells, fighting to make her voice heard over the chaos. "Stay where you are! I'm coming!" The wizardette nods frantically, still clinging to the wall. Merrin starts swimming towards her, one hand keeping a death-grip on the torch, the other paddling with desperate energy.

The swim feels like it takes hours, but in reality, it's probably only minutes. Every stroke is a battle against the current, every kick a struggle to maintain forward momentum. The water tries to pull her under repeatedly, but Merrin is stubborn and terrified in equal measure. She won't let this damn flood win.

When she finally reaches Seraphine's ledge, she practically collapses onto it, gasping for breath. The stone is slick with water and algae, offering little purchase, but it's solid ground—something they desperately need right now. She hauls herself up fully, then offers a hand to Seraphine.

The wizardette takes it gratefully, her fingers ice-cold against Merrin's skin. As soon as she's seated beside Merrin on the narrow ledge, she starts shivering violently. "What... what happened?" she gasps out between chattering teeth. "One moment we were exploring, and then..."

Merrin shakes her head, still trying to catch her breath. "I don't know. Some kind of trap? The tower's defenses activating? Either way, we're in deep shit now." She looks around the chamber, torch held high. In the flickering light, she can see just how bad their situation really is.

The water's already halfway up the walls in places, rushing past with incredible speed and force. More skeletal remains float by—dozens of them now, maybe hundreds. And the structure above them is groaning like a dying beast, dust and debris raining down constantly. A crack runs across the ceiling directly overhead, spider-webbing outwards in an ominous pattern.

Seraphine follows Merrin's gaze, her eyes widening with horror. "By the gods," she breathes. "We're going to be buried alive." Merrin feels a surge of panic rising in her chest but pushes it down ruthlessly. Now is not the time for fear. They need to think.

"We need to find higher ground," she says, already scanning the chamber for options. "Somewhere we can at least breathe until we figure out what to do next." The problem is, everywhere looks like it's about to be underwater soon. The flood is rising faster than she would have thought possible—this isn't natural water flow.

Seraphine seems to come to the same conclusion. She's staring at the rushing torrent with a mixture of fascination and terror. "This... this isn't normal flooding," she says, voice trembling. "The magic in this place... it's actively trying to drown us." Great. So not only are they trapped in a collapsing tower, but the very walls are working against them too.

Merrin feels a wave of despair threaten to overwhelm her, but she forces it back. No. They're not dead yet. There has to be a way out of this. She just needs to think like a rogue—find the weak point, exploit it, get out alive.

"Where's Varikka?" she asks suddenly, realizing with a jolt that she hasn't seen her friend since the flood started. "Did you see where she went under?" Seraphine shakes her head, looking miserable. "I lost sight of everyone when the water hit. I was too busy trying not to drown myself."

Of course. Because that would be too easy. Merrin clenches her fists, feeling the cold stone bite into her palms. She can't save Varikka if she drowns herself trying.

"We need to find higher ground," she says again, pushing herself to her feet despite the exhaustion weighing down every muscle. "Somewhere we can at least breathe until we figure out what to do next." The water's already lapping at their ledge now, cold fingers reaching up to caress stone.

Time's running out. They need a plan—and they need it fast.