Round 777

The ancient stone beneath Merrin's fingers trembled with a life of its own, each grain vibrating with impending doom. The air grew thick with dust and the stench of decay, cloying in her nostrils as she strained to lift the heavy stones trapping Varikka's ankle. Her rogue's hands, usually so nimble, fumbled under the weight and desperation.

Varikka! The name tore from Merrin's throat, a desperate plea into the oppressive darkness. She could feel the vibrations intensifying, hear the distant groans of the collapsing structure growing closer with each passing second. The sound of scurrying rodents filled the space, their frantic movements a stark reminder of the precariousness of their situation.

Easy now, Merrin soothed, more for her own benefit than Varikka's as she continued to work at the rubble. Just... hold still. Don't want this shifting any worse. The stones shifted dangerously under her touch, threatening to cascade and bury them both if she moved wrong. She gritted her teeth, muscles straining as she finally managed to lift one heavy stone free.

The rumbling intensified, a low growl that seemed to emanate from the very walls themselves. Merrin's head snapped up, eyes wide with fresh terror as she realized the source—the entire chamber was coming down around them.