Round 388

Merrin lunged forward, her compact halfling form a blur of motion as she tried to close distance with the Guardian before it could unleash another of those horrifying dark tendrils. Her twisted ankle screamed in protest with each step, but adrenaline pushed her onward. The water surged around her thighs now, icy cold and rising fast—fast enough that she knew they were running out of time.

Her dagger found purchase this time, sinking into the crack between the creature's breastplate and helm. She twisted it savagely, feeling something give way with a sickening crunch. The Guardian reared back, its inhuman howl echoing off the stone walls. Yes! Take that, you bastard! she hissed through gritted teeth.

But her victory was short-lived as the creature retaliated. Another tendril lashed out, this one aimed directly at her. She tried to dodge, but her ankle gave out completely and she went sprawling into the rising water. The impact drove the air from her lungs, and for a moment she was submerged, the world going dark and cold around her.

When she surfaced again, gasping and sputtering, she saw Varrika still engaged with the monster, her powerful fists hammering away at its armor. But the water was up to their waists now, swirling with dark energy that made Merrin's skin crawl. Varri! We need to get out of here! she shouted, her voice barely carrying over the roar of rushing water and cracking stone.

She tried to push herself upright, but her ankle screamed in protest. The gash on her calf was bleeding freely now, mixing with the dark water around her. Fuck, she muttered, knowing she'd need help just to stay afloat, let alone fight their way out of this nightmare.