Round 513

Merrin’s fingers tighten around Varrika’s arm as she helps the dwarf woman hobble along the precarious ledge, her own ankle screaming in protest. "Easy," she mutters, more to herself than Varrika. The stone groans beneath their combined weight, water lapping at their boots with a hungry sound. Every movement sends tiny pebbles cascading into the churning depths below. Varrika’s face is pale, her breathing ragged as she clutches her injured ankle. "It’s not broken," she manages through clenched teeth. "Just… sprained. Badly." Merrin nods grimly, scanning the chamber for any sign of an exit. The thick fog swirls and shifts, revealing glimpses of what might be a passage leading upward – or just more solid stone wall.