Round 728

Varikka’s voice cuts through the tense air like a blade. “Enough talk! That thing is getting closer, and I’d rather not become its dinner.” She shifts her weight, the movement making her wince as pain flares in her ankle. But her grip on the mace remains steady, her eyes scanning the chamber for any sign of advantage. “Merrin, you’re lighter and quicker. Take to the shadows if it comes to a fight. I’ll keep its attention.” She glances back at Elric, suspicion still evident in her gaze. “And you—if you’ve got wisdom about this thing, spit it out now.”

Merrin nods, already moving with that predatory grace that’s served her so well in tight spots. She slips between two fallen pillars, her dark eyes darting around the room as she maps escape routes and potential ambush points. “I’ll find us an angle,” she mutters, more to herself than Varikka. “But if it gets too close, we fall back together. No heroics.”