Round 95 Transcript

The gaunt figure takes another step closer, its eyes fixed on Jeane with an unnerving intensity. "Two for the price of one," it hisses, its voice like a rusty gate scraping against stone. Halie's fingers tighten around the silver cross, and Merrin takes a defensive stance, mace at the ready. The Keeper's gaze darts to Halie, who stands frozen, her faith a palpable force in the air. Jeane's eyes narrow, her hand tightening around her staff.

I step forward, my heavy mace in hand, ready to defend the group from whatever threat this creature poses. Enough talk. My voice is gruff and commanding, echoing off the stone walls. We're here for one reason, and we won't be stopped by riddles or games. I glance at Jeane, noting her defiant stance, then to Halie, who seems frozen in fear.

This isn't right. Something's off about this whole situation. I feel it in my bones—the same way I felt the approach of danger on a hundred battlefields. My grip tightens on the mace as I prepare for action. We need to be ready. Whatever this thing is, it won't give up the sword easily. But my mind is racing, trying to figure out our next move. If it comes to a fight, we can't just hack our way through. This tower's dark magic could be our undoing. I look at Seraphine, hoping she has some plan or spell that can turn the tide in our favor.

And Merrin—always eager for a brawl but not always thinking things through. I give her a warning glance, a silent reminder to stay sharp and follow my lead if it comes to combat. This isn't like any fight we've faced before, and recklessness could cost us everything.

My eyes dart to the open doorway, the inky darkness beyond beckoning like a siren's call. We're so close to our goal, but also so vulnerable. One wrong move, one misstep, and we could all be lost forever in the depths of this accursed tower.

I pause mid-sentence, a flicker of confusion crossing my features as the world around me seems to stutter. What in the seven hells… The Keeper's form wavers, its eyes dimming slightly before flaring back to life.

My wings twitch in agitation, sensing something profoundly wrong with this reality hiccup. I glance around quickly—Halie still clutches her cross, Merrin stands ready, Varrika grips her mace—but their forms seem less solid than moments ago.

I drop into a defensive crouch, cross raised between me and the thing that's not quite solid anymore. "It's not real." My voice is barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the charged air like a knife. "None of this is fucking real—something's breaking the rules here." I look around at my companions, their forms wavering at the edges now. "I knew it was wrong when that thing started talking about 'two for the price of one.' Like we're supposed to be… what? Bargaining chips? Sacrifices?" My hand trembles on the cross, not from fear—though there's plenty of that—but from rage. "This is bullshit. This is the kind of cheap manipulation that makes me sick." I stand, my gaze locking with Merrin's first, then Varrika's. "I'm not playing along. I don't give a shit what it wants—money, souls, our fucking firstborn. Whatever it's after, we're not handing it over."