Round 83 Transcript

As Varrika descends, the air thickens, and a faint whispering grows louder, like the soft rustling of dry leaves. The ground shudders violently once more, knocking Halie's torches to the floor, sending them clattering down the stairs. Jeane catches them in mid-air, but not before one scatters, casting flickering shadows on the walls. A loud crack echoes through the stairwell, and the central rune pulses brighter still, illuminating a section of the stairs above. Halie stumbles back, her eyes wide with fear, as Varrika's mace lies at the bottom of the stairs, its head spinning slightly from the impact. The air vibrates with anticipation, and the whispering grows to a deafening roar, making it difficult for all but the most determined to hear.

I approach Merrin carefully, my hand hovering near her forehead but not touching—who knows what the curse might do through physical contact? I murmur a prayer for protection and healing, though I know true healing likely requires the sword itself. "Merrin," I say softly, "can you hear me?" My voice is steady despite the fear coiling in my stomach. "We're here. We'll figure this out." I glance at Jeane, her face illuminated by the eerie green light from below. "Be ready to run if anything changes."

I force my wings to fold tight against my back even as every feather screams at me to fly up and away from this cursed place. The air is thick with death magic that coats my skin like oil, but I won't abandon them. Not yet. "Halie, tend to Merrin—I can feel the curse spreading through her bond to the sword. Varrika, hold position until we understand what's happening below." My voice comes out steadier than I feel, each word an effort against the paralyzing fear that wants to strangle me. "The central rune is pulsing like a damn heart—probably triggers on movement or presence. We need to test it carefully before descending further."

I draw my crossbow with shaking hands and fire a bolt at the outer edge of the nearest rune, aiming wide of the center. The moment it crosses the boundary, the green light flares brilliant and painful, and something ancient and hungry roars in response from deep within the shaft. "Shit." I reload quickly. "At least now we know—every step on those inner lines is probably our last. We need an alternative route or a way to disable that thing without setting it off."

Varrika: I hold my ground at the head of our little band, mace ready in my grip as the very stones around us seem to pulse with ancient malevolence. My eyes dart between the central rune and Merrin's contorted form, fearing which will give way first.

Jeane's right - we can't rush blindly into this trap. But we can't turn back now either, not with the tower crumbling around us and the sword's power just out of reach.

Halie, I order gruffly over my shoulder, get behind me. Jeane, keep your wits about you - we'll need every scrap of magic and clever to see us through this.

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of leadership settle like a familiar cloak on my shoulders. It's not the first time I've had to choose between certain death and slim hope in these accursed depths. And it likely won't be the last.

Bracing myself, I start down the winding stairs, each step echoing unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence. The air grows thick as treacle, choked with a whispering that sets my teeth on edge. I can feel the curse of the sword like a physical weight, pressing down on us all.

But we came this far - and by Moradin's hammer, we will see it through or die trying. The Time-Splitting Sword waits below, and with it, perhaps our only chance at survival in this damned tower. Step by step, I lead the way forward into the unknown, trusting to steel, wits and sheer stubbornness to see us through whatever horrors lie ahead.