Round 755

The rhythmic thudding grew louder, echoing through the narrow tunnel ahead. Merrin tensed, her crossbow aimed down the winding passage as she strained to see past the gloom. The sound was unmistakable—something heavy moving with purpose through the ancient stone corridors. Varikka shifted beside her, her injured ankle forgotten for the moment as she too focused on the approaching noise.

The air here felt different, older and drier than the lower levels they'd left behind. A faint metallic scent mixed with the ever-present mustiness of damp decay. The walls were slick with moisture, patches of greenish mold clinging to the stone in places. And beneath it all, a low rumble seemed to vibrate through the very rock around them.

Varikka's grip tightened on her mace as she whispered, "That's not natural." Merrin nodded grimly, her finger resting lightly on the crossbow trigger. Whatever was making that sound, it wasn't something they'd encountered before in this cursed tower. The thudding grew closer still, each heavy step seeming to shake dust from the ceiling far above.

The dwarf woman's eyes narrowed as she hissed, "We need to move. Now." Merrin hesitated for only a second before nodding. They couldn't stay here waiting for whatever was coming. But the tunnel ahead was narrow and winding—perfect terrain for an ambush. And Varikka's ankle injury meant they'd have to move carefully, despite the urgency.

The rumble grew louder still as something heavy shifted in the darkness ahead. Time was running out.