Round 5 Transcript

A dozen skeletal warriors, their armor dented and joints rattling, shudder out from the darkness beyond the gate, their hollow eyes glowing with a sickly green light as they advance toward the threshold.

My wings unfurl reflexively as I assess the dozen skeletal warriors shambling into view. Twelve at the threshold, green fire in their eyes—necromancy of considerable power animating these remains. I circle the group once, my gaze sharp and calculating.

Varrika, hold position near the gate but don't engage directly yet—the necromancer who controls them is hiding somewhere nearby, probably observing us through those hollow sockets. Merrin, Seraphine, back away slowly toward the eastern wall where the light is strongest. Halie, prepare a blessing or prayer to whatever divine protection you can muster against undead corruption. I draw upon my demonic sorcery, feeling the dark power course through me. Necromancy versus necromancy—let's see what your master is made of. A complex sigil of warding flares into existence on the ground before the skeletal warriors, glowing with infernal energy that pushes back against their unholy animation. I pour my power into maintaining it, creating a narrow corridor through which they must pass if they wish to reach us.

Varrika's eyes narrow as she takes in the advancing skeletons, her jaw tightening. She shifts her weight, considering her options with a grim practicality. "Alright, we got company," she growls, "And I'm down a weapon."

She glances at Halie, nodding towards the holy symbol clutched in the cleric's hand. "Halie, you're our best bet right now. Keep that light of yours ready." Her gaze sweeps over the undead horde, calculating distances and angles. "Jeane, Merrin - I need you two to flank 'em. See if you can't find a weak point in their formation."

Turning to face the skeletons head-on, Varrika plants her feet firmly, ready to meet them unarmed if necessary. Her hands ball into fists at her sides, knuckles white with tension. "You lot," she addresses the undead, her voice rough but commanding, "I don't know what dark sorcerer's got you dancing on his strings, but this is as far as you go."

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the coming clash. "Party's over. Time to send you back to whatever hell you crawled out of." With that, Varrika takes a step forward, putting herself between her companions and the undead horde, ready to hold the line however long she can.

Merrin's eyes dart to the gate as the skeletons emerge, her fingers twitching at her sides. She takes a quick step back, putting some distance between herself and the undead horde. "Alright, alright, not good," she mutters under her breath, her gaze flickering over the glowing runes adorning the archway. She risks a glance at Jeane, the sorcerer's wings making her a clear target. "Jeane, love, any chance you can magic us up some more light? Those sigils are giving me the heebie-jeebies and I'd feel a lot better if we could get a proper look at 'em before we go barging in."

Her hands move of their own accord, reaching for her crossbow as she backpedals further. The weight of it is comforting, familiar, but she resists the urge to loose a bolt just yet. Timing is everything in a fight like this, and Merrin's not about to waste her shots on the front line. "Varrika, Halie," she calls over her shoulder, "We need to figure out what these things are weak to before we go toe-to-toe with them. Any bright ideas?"