Round 555

Merrin crouches low, pressing her back against the crumbling stone wall of the passageway. "We need to keep moving," she hisses, her voice barely audible over the groaning of the ancient structure above them. The flickering torchlight casts dancing shadows across Varrika's face as Merrin meets her eyes. "That thing is getting closer with every breath." She gestures towards the far end of the corridor where a faint, rhythmic thumping echoes through the rock. "The stairs are that way - but they look even more precarious than this passage. What do you think?"