Round 82 Transcript

As Varrika pushes forward, the central rune's pulsing grows brighter, casting an eerie green glow on the staircase walls. The air thickens with malevolent energy, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. Halie stumbles backward, her eyes wide with fear, as a low rumble echoes through the stairwell, making it seem like the very foundation of the tower is shifting. Suddenly, the ground gives a violent lurch, and Varrika's mace is knocked from her grasp, skittering down the stairs, coming to rest near a particularly unstable-looking step. The air seems to vibrate with anticipation, as if whatever lies below is waiting for its moment to strike. The silence is oppressive, punctuated only by the faint whispering that had begun earlier, now seeming to take on a more urgent tone.

I grit my fangs against the rising panic, the oppressive magic making my wings ache with each beat. The central rune pulses like a diseased heart, green light bleeding across Merrin's contorted form—her screams echoing through me worse than any physical pain. "We can't let her descend into that death trap," I growl, spreading my leathery black wings wide despite the cramped space of the staircase. "Whatever hunger stirs below, it doesn't need another meal." My claws dig into the stone wall as I force myself forward, resisting every instinct screaming retreat. "Halie," I snap at our terrified cleric who's pressed against the opposite wall, "lend her your strength if you can—any prayer that might ease the curse even a moment. Varrika, hold position and keep your wits about you. This tower isn't just collapsing, it's starving."

I draw my crossbow with practiced efficiency, the cool metal a familiar comfort against the crawling sensation of ancient death magic thickening the air. The bolts tremble slightly in their quiver—I can barely see them through this oppressive darkness. "This thing wants us to rush forward like frightened mice," I hiss, eyes fixed on the winding stairs below where malevolent energy pulses with each brighter flash of the rune. "So we don't give it what it wants."

I grit my teeth as my mace tumbles down the steps, the clatter echoing through the narrow staircase. The air grows thick with malevolent energy, raising the hairs on my arms. Halie shrinks back, her eyes wide with fear. "Stay alert!" I bark, even as the ground lurches beneath our feet. "That sword won't fetch itself."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Merrin's anguished screams fill the air—no, I can't think about that now. One step at a time. I plant my boot on the next stair, mace at the ready. The central rune pulses like a diseased heart, casting an eerie green glow. It seems to beckon me forward, promising power...and untold horrors. But we've come too far to turn back now. "Halie, get behind me," I order, my voice a low growl. "Jeane, keep your wits about you. We're not leaving this tower without that damn blade."

I take another step, the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. Whatever lies ahead, we'll face it together. The curse may claim us, but at least we'll fall as one.