Round 182

Merrin grits her teeth against the cold water lapping at her thighs as she scans the cavernous space, 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.

With grim determination, Merrin pushes onward, her movements cautious but purposeful. Each step sends ripples across the surface, disturbing the eerie stillness of the underground lake. The water is unnaturally cold, biting into her exposed skin and chilling her to the bone. She needs to find higher ground or a heat source before hypothermia sets in, but every instinct screams at her to keep moving forward.

She’s halfway across now, the far shore tantalizingly close when she hears it—the unmistakable sound of something large breaking the surface of the water behind her. Merrin spins around, mace raised defensively, only to see a massive tentacled form emerging from the depths, its bulbous eyes fixed on her with malevolent intent.