Round 624

The water was already lapping at her boots when Merrin found the narrow escape route—a tight opening in the ceiling, barely wide enough for a halfling to squeeze through, much less a dwarf. Varikka knew she had seconds to act before the entire chamber flooded completely. She managed to clamber up just in time, her good hand finding purchase while her injured wrist screamed in protest. Merrin followed close behind, both of them emerging onto a precarious ledge barely wide enough for two.

They clung to the stone surface, soaked and exhausted, as the water rose below them with terrifying speed. The Guardian's laughter echoed up from the depths, mocking their desperate escape. Varrika could feel her heart pounding in her chest, not just from the near-drowning but also from the knowledge that her sprained ankle had nearly doomed them both.

"Stay still," Merrin hissed, her eyes fixed on the rising water. "We need to let it drain out before we move again." Varrika nodded, trying to ignore the persistent ache in her ankle and the growing headache that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat. She knew they couldn't stay here forever—every moment wasted increased the risk of discovery by whatever else might lurk in these depths.

As the water finally began to recede, Merrin helped Varikka onto shakier ground. The stone surface beneath their feet was slick and treacherous, coated with some kind of slimy residue that made each step an exercise in precarious balance. Varrika grit her teeth against the pain, determined not to show how much each movement cost her.

"You okay?" Merrin asked, her voice barely audible above the distant drip of water somewhere nearby.

Varikka nodded, though she knew it was a lie. Her ankle felt like it was on fire, and the persistent headache had only worsened since their near-drowning escape. But she couldn't afford to show weakness—not here, not now.