Round 429

The stone groaned beneath them like a beast waking from slumber, and Merrin’s stomach twisted into knots. Varrika leaned on her heavily, her face pale and drawn, dark eyes wide with pain and fear that mirrored Merrin’s own rising panic. “My ankle,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “It’s bad.” She shifted her weight experimentally, wincing visibly. “I can walk, but not fast. Not over this mess.” The sound of grinding stone echoed from behind them—a stark reminder that their predicament was only worsening. Merrin half-dragged the dwarf forward, both of them staggering through the narrowing corridor. Every step was a calculated risk on the shifting floor, every moment a race against the crumbling structure behind them. The halfling woman’s mind raced, weighing their options against the encroching danger. They needed to move, to find solid ground before the entire place came crashing down around them—but with Varrika’s injured ankle limiting her mobility, every step forward was a gamble. The corridor stretched ahead, dark and foreboding, offering no clear escape route. Merrin glanced back over her shoulder, ey...