Round 515

The sound of rushing water floods their senses the moment they burst through the narrow passage. Merrin staggers forward, her boots slipping on the slick stone floor even as she tries to keep Varrika upright. The dwarf woman's face is etched with pain, but her grip on the mace remains firm despite the agony in her ankle. "We need to move!" Merrin shouts over the roar of the approaching torrent. She doesn't wait for a response, just starts hauling them both towards the precarious-looking staircase that offers their only hope of escape from the rising floodwaters. The air itself seems to tremble with the force of the approaching deluge, and Merrin feels a primal fear clawing at her chest. This isn't just water—they're being pursued by sheer tons of liquid rage, and it's going to consume them if they don't find higher ground fast.