Round 84

The central rune pulsed again, its sickly green light seeming to feed on the ambient darkness of the chamber. Jeane hovered near the ceiling, wings beating slowly to maintain her position, eyes fixed on the ominous symbol below. The magic that coated the walls felt alive now—writhing tendrils of shadow that reached out towards her with each pulse of the rune.

She could feel something ancient stirring in the depths below, a hunger that recognized her kind and called out across time. The whispers had grown louder still, insidious voices promising power beyond imagining to any who would descend further into their domain. Jeane's grip on her own sanity trembled—she knew she should call out a warning, but the words caught in her throat as the ancient power beckoned more insistently.

Varrika stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, her dwarven instincts screaming at her to retreat. The air grew colder still with each step downward, the shadows deeper around her feet as if reaching up to drag her into the depths. She could feel something ancient stirring in the darkness below—something that had slept for eons and now awoke ravenous.

But she couldn't abandon Halie and Merrin—not after everything they'd faced together. The dwarf gripped her mace tighter, knuckles turning white as she forced herself to take another step down. The staircase beneath her creaked ominously, each gro...