Round 599

The ancient stone chamber felt wrong long before the walls began to move. A low groan echoed through the air, vibrating against Merrin’s skin like a physical weight. "Varikka," she called out, her voice barely more than a whisper, "do you feel that?" The halfling woman had already drawn her dagger, its blade catching what little light filtered down from above. Across the chamber, Varrika shifted her weight off her injured ankle with a grimace. "I feel it," she replied, her scarred face tight with pain and concentration. "And I don’t like it one bit." Her good hand clenched around the haft of her heavy mace, ready for whatever might emerge from the shadows.