Round 699

The chamber was small, far too small for comfort, the air thick and stinging in their throats. Merrin's head pounded, her vision swimming as she fought to stay upright on trembling legs. Varrika moved beside her, a solid presence despite the way she favored her injured ankle with every step.

"Stay close," Merrin hissed, her voice barely audible over the distant rumble of shifting stone. "We don't know what's holding this place up."

Varrika nodded, her scarred face grim in the dim light. "Agreed. Keep your eyes open for any way out that doesn't involve more falling rocks or drowning in noxious gas."

The Guardian's sword had caught fire, trailing embers as it sliced through the air above them. Merrin's hand tightened on her mace, every instinct screaming at her to run, to find solid ground and safety. But Varrika was here, injured and counting on her, and there was nowhere to run anyway.

"We need to move," she said, forcing herself to think past the pounding in her skull. "If this place collapses, we want to be as far from the center as possible."

Varrika grunted in agreement, shifting her weight carefully. "Lead on, little scout. I'll follow your eyes if not your feet."