Round 180

Merrin’s wiry frame tenses as she grips her heavy iron bar like a weapon, the cold water lapping at her thighs. Her dark eyes dart around the cavernous space, taking in every detail—the gushing springs feeding the rising lake, the skeletal remains scattered along the shore, and most importantly, the faint glowing orbs that seem to be moving deeper beneath the surface. She’s already soaked through, her practical travel leathers clinging to her compact build and offering little protection against the chill seeping into her bones. The thought of Varikka trapped with that... thing... fuels her desperation even as her rogue instincts scream at her to find higher ground or a heat source before hypothermia sets in.

With a grim determination, Merrin wades deeper into the water, her movements cautious but purposeful. Each step sends ripples across the surface, disturbing the eerie silence that’s settled over this underwater tomb. She knows she should be searching for Seraphine first—her party member is out there somewhere, possibly injured or worse—but the memory of Varikka’s scream and the sight of those tentacles still haunts her. She can’t shake the guilt that gnaws at her, wondering if she made the wrong choice by diving into this lake instead of staying to help fight.