Round 181

The water is cold, unnaturally so. Merrin grits her teeth against the chill as she wades deeper into the cavernous space, her boots sinking into the silty bottom. The springs feeding this underground lake gush with an energy that feels wrong, somehow magical and dangerous all at once.

Her dark eyes scan the surface, taking in every detail—the skeletal remains scattered along the shore like macabre warnings, the faint glowing orbs that seem to be moving deeper beneath the surface, and most importantly, the rising water level. It’s already knee-deep and climbing, each passing moment bringing new risks.

She should be looking for Seraphine—her party member is out there somewhere, possibly injured or worse—but the thought of Varikka trapped with that... thing... fuels her desperation. The rogue knows she needs to find higher ground or a heat source before hypothermia sets in, but every instinct screams at her to keep moving forward.

With grim determination, Merrin pushes onward, her movements cautious but purposeful. Each step sends ripples across the surface, disturbing the eerie silence that’s settled over this watery tomb.