Round 43

Jeane’s crimson eyes widen in alarm as the ground beneath them shakes violently. The sudden burst of the wall reveals a gaping maw that seems to plunge into the very depths of the earth, and she can hear the frantic scuttling of something massive moving within its shadows. "Fuck!" She hisses, her dark wings instinctively half-spreading for balance as another tremor rocks the foundation. Her gaze snaps to Halie, who’s dropped to her knees in obvious distress, then back down into the abyss where Varrika has just vanished. "Whatever is down there… we cannot let Merrin or Varrika face it alone." The air grows thick with the stench of decay and something else—ancient magic, twisted and wrong. "Halie! Get up! We need to help them!" She moves closer, her hand extended to pull the kneeling cleric upright, even as her own eyes strain to pierce the darkness below. "Whatever this place is… it’s not done with us yet."