Round 13

The forest goes dead silent as the group confronts Elric about his true intentions. The hermit's face bleeds white under their combined scrutiny, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool evening air. He takes a shaky step back from the gate, his gaze darting between the ominously pulsing runes and the women who now surround him.

"I... I merely wished to emphasize the gravity of disturbing such ancient places," he stammers, his voice trembling. "The knowledge I provided came at a price indeed—my own sanity has frayed from years spent too close to this cursed tower." His eyes dart nervously toward the gate again as its runes flicker faster in response to their presence.

Halie's blue-grey eyes narrow with renewed suspicion as she listens to Elric's words. The burns on her fingertips have already begun healing under Seraphine's ministrations, but the memory of that dark energy surging against her skin lingers like an unpleasant taste in her mouth. "Sanity?" she repeats sharply. "Or something more... tangible? Because it feels like you knew more than you were saying about these defenses." She gestures toward the gate, where the runes continue their ominous pulsing. "The fact that touching those stones activated them—activated them—is not an accident. Someone—or something—built this gate to respond to contact, and I don't think it was meant to welcome visitors."

Merrin steps forward, her rogue's eyes scanning every inch of the stonework with a predator's focus. She understands Halie's caution all too well—their party has danced with death often enough already on this cursed journey—but something about the hermit's evasive answers and the gate's increasing activity sets her teeth on edge. They can't afford to waste more time, not when every second feels like borrowed time in these haunted woods.

Varrika moves to flank Halie, her scarred hand resting casually near the hilt of her mace—a silent promise of violence should the situation deteriorate further. "Elric," she growls, her voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through the very earth beneath them, "your map may have led us here but we need to know what we're up against before we proceed. What exactly is the price for this information?"

The ancient stones of the tower seem to sigh with anticipation as the adventurers' questions hang heavy in the air. Deep within its crumbling depths, something stirs—a cold intelligence that has waited patiently for centuries, feeding on despair and fear. And now, it senses fresh prey approaching...