Round 809

Merrin’s scream echoed through the ancient chamber, a sound of pure terror that seemed to reverberate off every stone surface. Water lapped at her chin, cold and insistent, as she fought to remain conscious after nearly drowning in the sudden flood. When her vision finally cleared, the world had transformed into a nightmare of rushing water and shifting stone. Varrika’s body lay half-submerged nearby, eyes closed, face pale as marble in the dim light filtering down from above.

The rope still trailed from Merrin’s waist, snapped clean through at its thickest point, ending in a frayed tangle near where Varikka had vanished downstream. The chamber itself was changing shape by the moment, water cascading through fresh cracks in the ceiling and walls with each rumble of settling stone. Merrin forced herself upright, teeth gritted against the pain, and began to crawl across the slick floor toward her friend.

Every inch felt like dragging herself over broken glass, but the sight of Varikka’s still form drove her forward. The water lapped at her chin again as she reached her friend, wrapping her arms around the dwarf woman’s broad shoulders and heaving her upward with desperate strength. She managed to roll them both onto higher ground just as another wave surged through the chamber.

“Varikka!” Merrin gasped, laying the unconscious fighter down on solid stone at last. “Come on, wake up! Please, don’t leave me here alone!”

She began to slap Varrika’s face gently, her panic rising with each moment of unresponsiveness. The water was still rising, and she could hear more structural groaning echoing through the tunnels beyond their precarious sanctuary.