Round 11

Seraphine steps closer to the ancient gate, her eyes tracing the complex patterns of the runes carved into its surface. It's intricate work, far beyond the crude sigils we saw at the entrance. These are wards of great potency, meant to keep something powerful sealed within the tower.

The silver amulet around her neck feels suddenly heavy, a talisman against dark magic that now seems woefully inadequate. She can almost hear the whispers of long-dead sorcerers echoing through the stone, their voices filled with malice and hunger. This is no ordinary barrier—it's a trap designed to feed on the very essence of those who dare to breach it.

She turns to face her companions, her voice low and urgent. Listen. These wards are not just defensive—they're hungry. They're designed to feed on the life force of anyone who tries to pass. We need to find a way around them, or we risk becoming part of this place ourselves.