Round 10 Transcript

Halie’s silver holy symbol glows bright, casting a 20‑foot radius circle of radiant light that shimmers like molten gold; the first wave of necrotic energy striking any creature within the circle is absorbed, leaving the warded party unharmed.

I watch in awe as Halie's holy symbol glows with divine radiance, forming a protective barrier around us. The arcane patterns woven into its silver surface shimmer like stars come alive. I feel the necrotic energy, a cold weight pressing down, suddenly dissipate within the circle of light. My own hands tremble slightly as I trace the runes on the monolith with my gaze, committing each intricate line to memory. The vibrations are no longer an abstract threat but a tangible rhythm, like a heartbeat counting down to some unknown doom. This is no mere magical artifact, I think to myself, a thrill of scholarly excitement and dread running through me. This is a nexus point, a conduit for the necromancer's power. If we can unravel its secrets, we might be able to turn their own magic against them. I take a deep breath, my mind already racing with theories and possible counterspells. The air here is thick with ancient magic, heavy with the scent of old stone and decaying flesh. It’s intoxicating in its danger. Jeane is right, I murmur, more to myself than anyone else. We need to know what we’re dealing with before we can hope to survive this place.*

I watch Halie’s divine circle complete around us, her faith manifesting tangible protection from the encroaching death magic. Well done, Cleric—divine wards have their uses after all. My voice is cool, measured.

The monolith pulses again, its energy spiking as if testing our defenses. But that was merely the first wave. The necromancer who controls these skeletons through those bone sigils—they're still out there, watching us flinch behind a shield of borrowed light. I raise my hand, dark energy swirling around my fingers before I dismiss it deliberately.

We can’t hide behind faith forever. Varrika, your heavy weapon is compromised—those bony claws specifically targeted you to disarm our primary close-combat asset. That’s not chance; that's intelligence. They know what we're capable of and are adapting. I step forward, breaking the protective circle without hesitation. Merrin, Seraphine—I need a moment alone with Varrika. There’s a tactical conversation that requires… privacy from divine ears. My tone makes it clear this is not a request.

The monolith's dark energy washes over me as I move outside Halie's barrier, my own demonic nature flaring in response—a cold fire against the cold death.