Round 17 Transcript

The ward spirit's tendrils lash out, striking at Jeane and sending her flying across the room. She crashes into a nearby wall, her wings thrashing wildly as she struggles to right herself. The air is thick with magical energy, making it difficult for the others to focus on their own actions. Merrin quickly fires another bolt at the pulsing glyph on the tree trunk, but the ward spirit is relentless, its magic adapting to each attack. The creature behind the wall scuttles closer, its chitinous exoskeleton glinting in the dim light. Seraphine's spell of purification still hangs in the air, waiting to be completed. Varrika readies her mace, preparing to face the horror that will soon emerge from the wall. The ward spirit lunges again, its magic swirling around Jeane as she struggles to get back to her feet.

Jeane staggers to her feet, wings still smarting from the magical impact. "This ward is no simple trap," she gasps between heaving breaths, "it's actively hunting us now." She eyes the glyphs pulsing with malevolent energy and the maw oozing darkness in the wall behind Merrin. "Whatever we do, don't let it separate us. Stay tight or it'll pick us off one by one."

Jeane raises her hands, arcane symbols glowing at her fingertips as she prepares a counter-spell. "Merrin, keep hitting those glyphs—they're its eyes and ears." Her crimson gaze flicks to Varrika moving towards the wall-maw. "Varrika—wait! We don't know what's in there yet. Let me check first."

She closes her eyes briefly, concentrating hard as she taps into her demonic heritage for a quick scrying spell—a risky move against such powerful arcane defenses but necessary to avoid blindly sending Varrika into an obvious deathtrap. "Sed verum," she mutters, the symbols in her hands flaring with dark energy before fading away.

Opening her eyes, Jeane's expression is grim. "There's a swarm of corrupted spiders back there—at least six of them, big and fast." She meets Varrika's gaze with an urgent warning. "Your mace won't do much against chitin unless you're wielding a magic weapon. Step back and let me handle this opening volley."

Jeane draws deeply on her demonic power, dark energy swirling around her as she prepares to unleash a potent arcane blast at the maw just as whatever emerges from it becomes visible.

I watch Jeane stagger to her feet, her wings still smarting from the magical impact. The air is thick with energy, making it hard to focus on anything else. But I trust Jeane's assessment—this ward is no simple trap. It's actively hunting us now, and we need to stay together or risk being picked off one by one. As Jeane prepares a counter-spell, her gaze locks onto the pulsing glyphs on the tree trunk. "Merrin, keep hitting those," she gasps out between heaving breaths, "they're its eyes and ears." I nod, readying another bolt in my crossbow. The glyphs are clearly key to weakening this thing's defenses. My eyes flick to Varrika moving towards the wall-maw, her mace at the ready. But Jeane's warning stops her short. "Varrika—wait! We don't know what's in there yet. Let me check first."

I watch as Jeane closes her eyes, concentrating hard as she taps into her demonic heritage for a quick scrying spell. It's risky, using that kind of magic against such powerful arcane defenses, but necessary to avoid sending Varrika blindly into an obvious deathtrap. After a moment, Jeane's eyes snap open, her expression grim. "There's a swarm of corrupted spiders back there—at least six of them, big and fast." Her gaze locks onto Varrika's, urgent and warning. "Your mace won't do much against chitin unless you're wielding a magic weapon. Step back and let me handle this opening volley."

I see the dark energy swirling around Jeane as she prepares to unleash a potent arcane blast at the maw just as whatever emerges from it becomes visible. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline surging through my veins. This is it—the moment of truth. We've come too far and overcome too much to turn back now. Whatever horrors this ward has in store for us, we'll face them head-on. I take a deep breath, steadying my aim at the glyphs as I prepare to unleash my own attack on this ancient, sentient barrier. The scuttling sound from behind the wall grows louder, more insistent. It knows we're here, knows we're ready for a fight. And so am I.

The air crackles with an unnatural energy, making my skin crawl. The ward spirit's manifestation is terrifyingly real—a towering figure of pure magic that seems to absorb and radiate the very essence of the ancient structure. As its tendrils lash out, striking at Jeane and sending her flying across the room, I feel a surge of fear. This is no ordinary ward; it's alive, it's angry, and it seems to be drawing power directly from us.
I watch as Merrin quickly fires another bolt at the pulsing glyph on the tree trunk, but the ward spirit is relentless, its magic adapting to each attack. The creature behind the wall scuttles closer, its chitinous exoskeleton glinting in the dim light. My mind races through every arcane theory about sentient magic I've ever studied. This is no simple test—it's an attack on multiple fronts.
Seraphine’s spell of purification still hangs in the air, waiting to be completed. Her gaze meets mine across the chamber, and I see the same grim determination in her eyes that I feel inside me. We’re not leaving until we have what we came for. And if this sentient ward thinks it can test our essences, it's about to learn the hard way just how stubborn we can be.
Jeane staggers to her feet, her wings still smarting from the magical impact. "This ward is no simple trap," she gasps between heaving breaths, "it's actively hunting us now." She eyes the glyphs pulsing with malevolent energy and the maw oozing darkness in the wall behind Merrin. Whatever we do, don't let it separate us. Stay tight or it'll pick us off one by one.
I raise my staff, an intricate focus carved from an ancient oak, and begin to chant under my breath. The words are old Elvish, a language of pure power, and they flow from me with a practiced ease born of countless hours of study. I'm trying to weave a spell of purification, hoping it will at least repel some of the magic being flung around us.
But before I can finish, Jeane calls out a warning. "Merrin, keep hitting those glyphs—they're its eyes and ears." Her crimson gaze flicks to Varrika moving towards the wall-maw. "Varrika—wait! We don't know what's in there yet. Let me check first."
I see Jeane close her eyes, concentrating hard as she taps into her demonic heritage for a quick scrying spell—a risky move against such powerful arcane defenses but necessary to avoid sending Varrika blindly into an obvious deathtrap. After a moment, Jeane's eyes snap open, her expression grim. "There's a swarm of corrupted spiders back there—at least six of them, big and fast." Her gaze locks onto Varrika's, urgent and warning. "Your mace won't do much against chitin unless you're wielding a magic weapon. Step back and let me handle this opening volley."
The scuttling sound from behind the wall grows louder, more insistent. It knows we’re here, knows we’re ready for a fight. And so am I.
I take a deep breath, steadying my aim at the glyphs as I prepare to unleash my own attack on this ancient, sentient barrier. The air is thick with power, the very stones humming—ward may be active and hostile. We need to disrupt its focus if we hope to stand a chance.
As Jeane readies her arcane blast at the maw just as whatever emerges from it becomes visible, I feel a sudden, sharp pain in my chest—like a thousand needles piercing my flesh. It’s the same sensation as before, only worse this time. The ward spirit is probing at us again, testing our defenses and looking for weaknesses.
I grit my teeth against it, forcing myself to stay focused. This magic... it's unlike anything I've ever faced before. But I've never backed down from a challenge either. My eyes meet Seraphine’s across the chamber, seeing the same grim determination in her gaze. We’re not leaving until we have what we came for. And if this sentient ward thinks it can test our essences, it's about to learn the hard way just how stubborn we can be.
I raise my staff higher, ready to channel the full force of my purification spell right at the heart of this living, breathing trap. The scuttling sound from within the wall reaches a fever pitch, and I know whatever horror emerges will be upon us in moments. But we’re ready. We have to be.
This is what we trained for—the worst of the worst scenarios. And right now, that means facing down an ancient, sentient magical barrier and whatever nightmares it’s unleashed upon us.

I hear Jeane's warning about the swarm of corrupted spiders behind the wall, and I feel a chill run down my spine. My mace won't do much against chitin unless it's magic, but I'm not about to stand idly by while whatever horrors lurk in that darkness emerge.

I move to stand beside Jeane, ready to support her as she unleashes her arcane blast at the maw just as the first of the spiders becomes visible. The creature is massive, its chitinous exoskeleton glinting with an oily sheen as it scuttles forward on eight spindly legs. Its fangs drip with a viscous, poisonous-looking venom.

As Jeane's spell erupts from her hands in a burst of dark energy, I raise my mace high, ready to crush whatever emerges from the maw next. The air is thick with power, the very stones humming—ward may be active and hostile. We need to disrupt its focus if we hope to stand a chance.

I feel a sudden, sharp pain in my chest—a thousand needles piercing my flesh. It's the ward spirit probing at us again, testing our defenses for weaknesses. I grit my teeth against it, forcing myself to stay focused. This magic... it's unlike anything I've ever faced before. But I've never backed down from a challenge either.

My eyes meet Seraphine's across the chamber, seeing the same grim determination in her gaze. We're not leaving until we have what we came for. And if this sentient ward thinks it can test our essences, it's about to learn the hard way just how stubborn we can be.

I raise my mace higher, ready to channel my own strength into whatever spell or attack Jeane and Seraphine conjure next. The scuttling sound from within the wall reaches a fever pitch, and I know whatever horror emerges will be upon us in moments. But we're ready. We have to be.

This is what we trained for—the worst of the worst scenarios. And right now, that means facing down an ancient, sentient magical barrier and whatever nightmares it's unleashed upon us.