Round 623

Varrika's crossbow bolt hisses through the darkness, punching into the stone wall just inches from Merrin's face. She recoils instinctively, her heart hammering in her chest as she realizes someone else is in the tunnel with them. The sound of the shot echoes off the walls, and for a moment, everything goes still. Then she hears it again - the unmistakable scrape of boots on stone, coming from deeper in the darkness ahead. Shit, Merrin thinks, her hands shaking as she loads a bolt into her own crossbow. She knows she needs to act fast, but her mind is racing with possibilities and doubts. Is this someone who can help them? Or just another threat in a tower already overflowing with them?

Varrika lies on the cold stone floor, her vision blurring as she tries to make sense of what just happened. The sound of Merrin's voice above her is both a comfort and a source of growing dread. She knows her friend is in danger, and she feels helpless to do anything about it. As the water begins to rush in from the tunnel, Varrika scrambles to her feet, her ankle screaming in protest. But she doesn't have time to dwell on the pain. She needs to find her mace, and fast. Without it, she's defenseless against whatever horrors might be lurking in the darkness. She feels along the ground with her hands, her fingers brushing against the rough stone as she searches for the heavy weapon. The sound of Merrin moving above her fills her with both relief and fear - at least her friend is still alive, but what if whoever fired that shot decides to target them both?