Round 79 Transcript

As Jeane steps onto the central rune, its pulsing green light intensifies, illuminating the dark tunnel. The air seems to vibrate with malevolent energy, and the ground beneath her feet trembles, as if the very foundations of the tower are protesting her presence. The runes on the walls react violently, scorching the stone with flashes of fiery energy that would incinerate any ordinary material. The tunnel ahead of Jeane begins to narrow, the air growing thick with the acrid stench of poisonous gases. A faint hissing sound builds in intensity, and the ground shudders violently, as if the tower itself is trying to expel the noxious fumes. The walls seem to be closing in, the stone pressing against her skin with an otherworldly pressure.

I step onto the central rune, feeling its power surge through me like liquid fire. The runes on the walls ignite with furious light—as if waking from long slumber—and the air itself screams with ancient malice. "Stop! All of you—freeze where you stand!" My voice cuts through the growing chaos, wings beating instinctively against the oppressive magic that makes my skin crawl and feathers ache. "This is clearly a trap, and we're walking right into it!"

I fix Halie with a hard stare. "Your light magic might slow this curse if you can find its source, but Merrin needs real help—we need to contain her before she does something irreversible." Then to Varrika: "And no, I don't want you charging blindly down that obviously booby-trapped staircase!"

The central rune pulses again, brighter now, and I can feel it pulling at something inside me, something ancient and hungry. The ground beneath us trembles—not just from the tower collapsing but from whatever sleeps below. "Varrika," I snap, "use your shadow magic to scout the tunnel ahead first—find the traps before we spring them." My eyes narrow as I address Halie: "And you—work with Merrin for an hour or two. If your light magic can slow this curse at all, even temporarily, it might buy us time to find a real solution."

I don't wait for agreement—I already know what Varrika's going to say before she says it. The stubborn fool will insist on taking point no matter how dangerous it is—her guilt over Merrin practically radiates off her in waves. "Both of you are being reckless," I growl, frustration bleeding into my tone despite trying to maintain composure. "We need a plan that doesn't involve throwing ourselves into obvious death traps or relying on desperate measures!"

The central rune pulses again—brighter still—and I have to fight the urge to retreat. Something ancient and terrible sleeps below us, and we're standing right on top of its lair like idiots. "We should leave Merrin here," Varrika suggests after a tense moment, her voice rough with barely suppressed emotion. "If she's going to die anyway—"

"Absolutely not." My wings snap closed reflexively at the suggestion, talons digging into my palms as I clench fists. "We made a promise—to retrieve the sword without keeping it for ourselves. That promise doesn't include sacrificing each other."

I turn to face Merrin directly, her corrupted form a stark reminder of what we're up against. "And you—you don't get to check out early just because things got complicated." My voice softens despite myself: "We finish this together or not at all."

The central rune pulses again—I swear it's getting brighter—and I can feel the oppressive magic pressing in around us, thicker now. Something ancient and hungry stirs below, drawn by our presence. "We need to move," I say sharply, forcing confidence into my voice even as everything in me screams to retreat. "But not blindly—we do this smart."

I can feel the weight of this place pressing down on me now—something ancient and hungry stirring in the depths below us. We need to get out before this whole cursed tower comes down around our ears. Merrin, I'll stay with you, try to slow that curse somehow. But we all move together or not at all. She kneels beside Merrin, taking the holy symbol from her neck and pressing it into the other woman's palm. Take this. I've prayed over it—it might give us a few extra seconds against whatever's possessing you. But you need real magic for this, Merrin. Light won't save you from dark magic like this. She glances at Jeane descending the stairs, her sorcerer's shadow already thickening with barely contained power. Be careful down there! The stone feels... wrong somehow. Alive and angry. Then to Varrika, who's already moving towards the new tunnel. I'll do what I can for Merrin—slow this thing down if I can—but someone needs to actually find a way out of here that doesn't involve falling rocks or worse. You're our best hope for that. She turns back to Merrin, voice low and urgent. We're getting you out of this. One way or another. But tell me—what happened exactly when you touched the sword? Any detail might help understand what we're dealing with here.

I step forward, taking point on the winding staircase as we descend into the cursed depths of the tower. My boots echo heavily on the worn stone steps, each footfall sending a small cloud of dust motes dancing in the light of our torches. The air grows thicker with each step, heavy with the weight of ancient magic and the promise of danger. I can feel it pressing against my skin, an unseen force that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The pulsing rune on the sword feels like a physical weight pressing against my bones, a gnawing hunger that makes my skin crawl. I glance back at Merrin and Halie, their faces etched with fear and determination. "Merrin, Halie," I call out, my voice echoing in the narrow space, "you two work on that curse, see if you can slow it down. Jeane, keep those shadows of yours ready—we're likely to need them before we reach the bottom of this pit."

The stairs wind on and on, twisting deeper into the heart of the tower. The walls are damp with condensation, and the air grows colder with each step. I grip my mace tighter, the worn wood of the handle smooth beneath my callused fingers. As we round another turn, I catch a glint of movement in the darkness ahead. A skeletal hand reaches out from the shadows, followed by another, and another. The skeletons are rising to defend their ancient tomb, drawn by the presence of the Time-Splitting Sword. I raise my mace, ready to meet them head-on. "Steady now," I call out to my companions. "We've got company."