Round 638

The noxious gas makes Merrin’s head spin as she clutches at the rough stone wall for support, her vision blurring slightly. She tries to focus on the task at hand—navigating through this treacherous tunnel with Varrika, who’s movements are hindered by her sprained ankle. The halfling woman knows they’re running out of time—the sound of rushing water grows louder with each passing moment.

Varrika stands a few feet away, her scarred face set in a grim mask of determination despite the obvious pain flickering in her eyes. The dwarf woman shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her injured ankle protesting with each tiny movement. But when she speaks, her voice is steady and strong, carrying easily through the cavernous space.

“You think you’re so tough?” Merrin calls out, her tone mocking and taunting. “We’ve faced worse than you in our travels. You’re just another obstacle to overcome.”

The Guardian’s eyes narrow, its massive frame tensing at Merrin’s words. It raises its weapon again, ready to strike once more. But Varrika moves faster than expected, her mace swinging in a wide arc that catches the creature off guard. The blow connects with a sickening crunch, and the Guardian staggers back, momentarily stunned.

Merrin doesn’t waste the opportunity. She darts forward, her dagger flashing as she slashes at the creature’s exposed side. The blade sinks deep into flesh, and the Guardian roars in pain, its attention now divided between the two women. Varrika recovers quickly, bringing her mace down again with brutal force. This time, the blow connects with the creature’s knee, shattering bone and sending it crashing to the ground.

But their victory is short-lived. As they stand over the fallen Guardian, panting and bruised, they hear a low rumble from above. The ceiling is collapsing!