Round 601

The stone tunnel groaned ominously around them, the sound like a great beast settling into sleep. Merrin clutched her lit torch tighter, the flame casting flickering shadows that seemed to writhe across the ancient walls. Varrika shifted her weight gingerly, wincing as pain shot up her injured ankle. The water lapped at their boots now, insistent fingers of impending doom. "We need to move faster," Merrin hissed, her dark eyes scanning the darkness ahead. "The water's rising." She moved closer to Varrika, offering support with one shoulder under the dwarf woman's good arm. Varrika leaned on her gratefully, though her expression remained grim. "I know," she growled back, each word punctuated by a labored breath. "But I can barely walk on this ankle, let alone run." The tunnel ahead descended steeply, the air growing thicker and more oppressive as they proceeded. Merrin's torchlight revealed more ancient carvings on the walls—warning symbols, perhaps, or prayers to forgotten gods. Varikka squinted at them, her vision blurring slightly from the exertion and the noxious gas still lingering in her system. "This doesn't look good," she muttered to Merrin, her voice strained. "But what choice do we have? We can't go back the way we came." She took a tentative step forward, immediately regretting it as pain lanced up her leg. The ground beneath their feet was slick with water and God-knew-what else, each step an exercise in precarious balance. Merrin matched her pace, steady and supportive despite her own exhaustion. "We'll manage," she said firmly, more to herself than to Varrika. "We have to."