Round 380

Varikka’s hand shoots out instinctively, gripping Merrin’s shoulder to steady her as the entire corridor groans around them. The dwarf woman’s calloused fingers dig into muscle through leather armor, but Merrin barely feels it over the sudden surge of adrenaline. The rumble builds rapidly, vibrating through stone and bone alike until it splits apart into a thousand tiny cracks snapping across walls and ceiling like ice on a frozen pond. Dust explodes outward in a thick grey cloud that swallows everything, coating them both in gritty powder as Merrin coughs violently, eyes streaming. Varikka yells something, but her words are lost beneath the roar of collapsing stone. The ground tilts sharply, throwing Merrin off-balance despite Varikka’s iron grip. She feels herself being pulled forward, feet sliding uselessly on loose rubble, and knows they’re seconds away from being buried alive.