Round 664

The stone door groaned shut behind them with a finality that sent a chill down Merrin's spine. The corridor stretched out before them, the darkness absolute except for the flickering torchlight they carried. Varikka stumbled forward, her face contorted in pain as she put weight on her injured ankle. Merrin caught her before she could fall, steadying the dwarf woman with practiced ease.

"Varikka!" Merrin exclaimed, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "Your ankle—it's worse than we thought." She helped Varrika to lean against the wall, her own heart racing as she took in their surroundings. The corridor seemed to wind deeper into the tower, and she could hear the distant sound of water dripping somewhere nearby.

Varikka gritted her teeth, using her mace as a makeshift crutch to take some weight off her bad leg. "It'll heal," she said through clenched jaws. "We've faced worse than a sprained ankle in this cursed place." Her eyes scanned the darkness ahead, searching for any sign of movement or danger.

Merrin nodded, drawing her dagger and holding it ready as they moved forward cautiously. The corridor seemed to twist and turn, each corner revealing more of the same oppressive darkness. She could feel the weight of the stone above them, the air growing colder and heavier with each step.

"I don't like this," Varikka muttered, her good hand tightening on her mace. "It feels too... quiet." Merrin agreed silently, her senses on high alert as they continued their careful advance into the tower's depths.