Round 32 Transcript

The air thickens further as the central rune's pulse surges, its light flickering like a dying star. The beam supporting Merrin's rope groans in protest, but holds, just barely. As the sigh of grinding stone grows louder, the ground beneath their feet begins to shift and tremble. The chamber's walls start to shudder, and the sound of falling debris echoes up from the pit. Suddenly, a low, mournful wail pierces the air, sending shivers down the spines of the party members. The wail grows louder, and the ground lurches violently, threatening to send everyone tumbling. With the tower's collapse imminent, Merrin's rope snaps taut as she clings to the pit's edge, her knuckles white with tension.

I feel my stomach lurch as the beam supporting my rope groans in protest. The ground shudders beneath my feet, and I have to dig my fingers into the crumbling stone to keep from losing my balance. "Merrin!" Varrika's voice cuts through the haze of dust and fear. "Get yer arse outta there before this whole place comes down on our heads!"

I don't need to be told twice. With a silent prayer to any gods who might be listening, I start hauling myself back up the rope, hand over hand, as fast as my trembling arms can manage. The wail of the central rune grows louder, more insistent, as if it's trying to drag me back down into the pit. I feel the weight of unseen eyes on my back, watching my every move with malevolent hunger. Sweat beads on my brow and trickles down my neck as I struggle to climb faster. My muscles burn with the effort, but I push through the pain. The beam creaks ominously above me, and for a heart-stopping moment, I'm sure it's about to snap. But then Halie's voice rings out, clear and strong: "Hold on, Merrin! We've got you!"

I risk a glance up and see my companions bracing themselves against the rope, their faces set with determination. Even Jeane has joined in, her hands clasped tightly around the rough fibers. With a final burst of strength, I scramble over the lip of the pit and roll to safety just as the beam gives way with a deafening crack. Dust and debris rain down around us as the tower shakes itself like a dog shedding water. For a long moment, no one speaks. We simply lie there in the rubble, chests heaving and hearts pounding, thanking whatever fates saw fit to keep us alive. Then Varrika lets out a whoop of laughter that echoes off the crumbling walls. "Well," she says, grinning from ear to ear, "that was fun!"

I watch Merrin scramble up the rope with a mix of relief and growing dread as the tower groans around us, the central rune now pulsing frantically like a panicked heart. The air itself feels charged, heavy with ancient magic and impending doom.
"The curse... it's awakened," I murmur, my voice almost lost in the cacophony of creaking stone and snapping timbers. I turn to face the others, my expression grave. "Whatever force bound the Time-Splitting Sword to this place has sensed its near removal. And now... now it fights back."

I brace myself against the strain of Merrin's weight on the rope, my boots scraping against the crumbling stone. The beam above me creaks ominously, and I can feel the ancient magic of this accursed place thrumming through the very air. Whatever force bound the Time-Splitting Sword to this tower has sensed its impending removal, and it will not relinquish its prize without a fight. "Hurry, Merrin!" I call down into the pit, my voice strained with effort and concern. "The whole damn place is coming down around our ears!"

I glance over at Seraphine, her face etched with grim determination as she focuses on the pulsing rune. If anyone can make sense of this magical backlash, it's her. But even a wizard's power has its limits in the face of ancient curses and collapsing towers. Halie and Jeane huddle together, their eyes wide with fear but their hands steady as they grip the rope. They've proven their courage time and again in this hellish place, and I'll be damned if I let them come to harm now. The air grows thick with the stench of decay and something older, more malevolent than any grave I've ever seen. Whatever undead horrors lurk in the depths of this tower, they're stirring now, drawn by the promise of fresh meat and the chance to feast on our souls. But we came here for a reason, and I'll be hanged if we're going to leave empty-handed. The Time-Splitting Sword may be cursed, but it's still a weapon that could turn the tide against the darkness that threatens our world. "Merrin!" I shout again, my voice raw with urgency. "We need that sword, but not at the cost of our lives! Get up here now, or I'll come down there and drag you out myself!"

The tower groans around us, the very stones seeming to twist and writhe with ancient pain. Dust rains down from the ceiling, and the beam above me splinters with a sickening crack. Time is running out, and with it, our chances of survival. But even as the ground crumbles beneath my feet and the air grows thick with the stench of death, I know that we cannot turn back now. The Time-Splitting Sword is too close, the danger too great to ignore. I grit my teeth and brace myself against the rope, my muscles burning with the effort of holding fast. Merrin, please...hurry.

Jeane eyes the central rune pulsing ominously. The tower groans around them, ancient stone shifting under immense stress. This whole place wants us dead—or worse, bound like that sword below. She speaks calmly, voice carrying authority: "Merrin descends too slow. Varrika, brace yourself on the rope—if it gives way, you're our anchor." Her gaze sweeps the chamber's trembling walls. "Seraphine, prepare a spell to stabilize this floor if the collapse comes fast. Halie, keep your holy symbol ready—I don't trust what ancient things might stir in the rubble." Jeane steps toward the pit's edge, her wings extending slightly for balance, dark leathery membranes catching dust motes suspended in the thick air. She peers down into darkness where Merrin vanished. "Hurry, girl—this place is alive and starving. We're disturbing its sleep with every breath." Her hand hovers near a spell component pouch at her belt, ready to channel arcane power if needed. The malevolent energy coiling around them feels hungry, impatient.