Round 530

Varrika's face twists with pain as she shifts her weight onto her good leg, the stone underfoot slick with water. "The hells are rising," she growls, staring at the now-blocked escape route. "We've got maybe minutes before this whole damn place comes down." Merrin clutches her mace tighter, dark eyes scanning the darkness ahead. "Then we move fast. Forward is our only option unless you fancy being buried alive." Varikka nods grimly and starts forward, each step a jolt of agony through her sprained ankle. "Stay close," she mutters. "And keep your eyes open for any sign of that... thing."