Round 80 Transcript

As Varrika takes a step forward, her boots echoing on the stone staircase, the air pressure in the tunnel increases further, causing her to stumble. The ground beneath her feet shudders violently once more, sending her stumbling back onto the worn stone. Halie's eyes widen as she struggles to maintain her balance, her holy symbol flashing with a faint, desperate light. The central rune on the Time-Splitting Sword pulses brighter still, its sickly green glow casting an eerie sheen over the chamber. The weight of the curse grows more palpable, causing Merrin's skin to writhe in agony once more. Her eyes roll back in her head, and her mouth opens in a silent scream. A loud rumbling noise echoes through the tunnel, growing louder by the second, and Varrika's companions exchange worried glances. The air thickens with an unholy hunger, and the Devourer's presence is felt by all. Suddenly, the ground gives a violent lurch, and the stairs behind Varrika slide out from under her feet, sending her tumbling into the darkness. The chamber falls silent for a moment, except for the sound of Varrika's muffled cry and the distant rumble of the tower's collapse.

I can feel the ancient weight of this place pressing down on us, thick with the stink of old death and fresh magic gone wrong. The air itself crawls like tiny spiders across my skin, and every instinct is screaming at me to get out while we still can—but Merrin's convulsing body reminds me why we're here in the first place. We didn't come this far just to turn tail and run. The Time-Splitting Sword has to be down there somewhere, and if we don't retrieve it properly, more innocent lives will be lost to its curse. But I'm not foolish enough to charge blindly into a death trap either.

Halie watched the central rune pulse with sickening green light as Merrin writhed in pain. The air grew thick with something foul—magical backlash biting into flesh and bone, consuming her from within. This was no simple curse; this was the work of something ancient and hungry.

The ground lurches violently beneath Varrika's feet, nearly sending her tumbling down the winding staircase into the cursed depths below. She staggers, catching herself against the crumbling stone wall as the air grows thick with an ancient, malevolent presence. Varikka's heart pounds in her chest as she feels the weight of the Time-Splitting Sword pressing down on her very bones. The central rune pulses with a sickly green light, brighter now than ever before, and she can sense its power growing with each passing moment. "Hold fast!" Varrika calls out to her companions, her voice echoing through the narrow tunnel. "The tower's magic is rising—we must press on, but with caution!"

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what lies ahead. The dwarf warrior knows that they are close now—the source of the curse, and perhaps the key to their salvation. But she also knows that danger lurks in every shadow, waiting to strike at the first sign of weakness. With a grunt of effort, Varrika pushes herself away from the wall and begins to descend once more, her heavy mace gripped tightly in her calloused hands. The stairs seem to stretch on forever, winding down into the very bowels of the earth itself. As she goes, Varikka can feel the eyes of her companions upon her—Jeane, with her shadow magic and keen senses; Halie, the cleric whose light could be their salvation or their doom; and Merrin, the elf whose curse threatens to consume them all. But Varrika does not falter. She is the leader of this band, the one who must guide them through the darkness and out into the light beyond. And she will not rest until they have faced whatever challenges lie ahead—and emerged victorious.