Round 859

The roar echoed through the stone passageway, vibrating in Merrin's teeth. She dragged Varikka further onto solid ground, her own muscles burning with exertion. The current tugged insistently at both women, threatening to reclaim its prize.

"Varikka!" Merrin shouted, pressing her shoulder against the fighter's side for leverage. "Don't let go!" Her wiry halfling frame strained against the weight, every muscle fiber screaming in protest. The rushing water churned past them, dark and treacherous.

Elric had already moved ahead, torch held high to light the way forward. His silhouette stood out starkly against the tunnel walls, casting long dancing shadows that seemed to writhe with the stone's groans. As they reached the edge of the underground river, disaster struck. A section of the ceiling gave way, sending a cascade of dust and rubble crashing down.

Merrin threw herself over Varikka instinctively, shielding the injured woman from the worst of it. Debris peppered her back, sharp rocks drawing blood through her leathers in several places. She ignored the pain, focusing instead on maintaining her grip on consciousness—and on Varikka.

The stone door behind them continued to shudder with each impact, The Guardian's fury made manifest in violent thuds that echoed through the confined space. Merrin knew they couldn't stay here much longer. Varikka needed medical attention, and the river's current showed no sign of weakening.

With a final heave, she managed to drag her friend fully onto dry land. The water lapped at their heels like a hungry beast, eager to reclaim its prey. Merrin collapsed beside Varikka, gasping for breath, every muscle quivering with fatigue. Her head still ached dully from the noxious gas exposure, but the terror of drowning again was far more immediate.

"Varikka," she panted, rolling the woman onto her back and examining the injured ankle. "Stay with me." The limb was swollen to twice its normal size, already bruising purple and black. The angle was wrong—clearly a complete break or at least a severe sprain. Useless for combat, probably useless for walking.

Elric returned, torch held low. "We need to keep moving," he urged, eyes darting nervously toward the barrier door. "The Guardian won't be stopped by mere stone for long."