Round 273

The water lapped at their waists now, cold and insistent, seeping through their already soaked leathers. Merrin pressed Varikka against the stone wall, shielding her body while keeping a wary eye on the churning green depths below. She could feel the vibration of wood splintering somewhere close, each crack sending a fresh jolt of fear through her overtaxed nerves.

"Stay close," she hissed, not taking her eyes off the water. "And try to keep your feet." She shifted her grip on the wall, fingers finding fresh holds in the damp stone. Her injured leg throbbed with each movement, but she pushed the pain aside—Varikka needed her now more than ever.

The bioluminescent markings pulsed beneath the surface, a sickly green glow that seemed to flash in rhythm with Merrin's pounding heart. She could feel the vibration of wood splintering somewhere close, each crack sending a fresh jolt of fear through her overtaxed nerves. The Tentacled Horror was still there, its presence a malevolent weight in the darkness.

"Easy there," she breathed, more for herself than Varikka. "We've been through worse." But even as she said it, Merrin knew this situation might be beyond their worst nightmare. The water had risen again—another foot at least since they'd pulled themselves onto this precarious perch. It lapped at their waists now, cold and insistent, seeping through their already soaked leathers.

The sound of shifting stone and creaking wood grew louder with each passing moment. Merrin glanced up at the crumbling staircase above them, then back down at the water below. They were trapped between two dangers—the rising lake and the collapsing structure—and time was running out fast.