Round 88 Transcript

The tension in The secret chamber deep within the crumbling stone tower tightens for a beat as the interruption refuses to go away. Everyone is forced to stay quiet and choose their next move carefully.

Jeane's wings flatten against her back instinctively, feathers ruffling in agitation as the oppressive magic in the air grows thicker. Her skin crawls with phantom touches, and she forces herself to stand still despite every muscle screaming at her to run. The central rune pulses again, brighter this time, casting sickly shadows across Merrin's twisted form on the floor. "We cannot go down there," Jeane states flatly, though her voice trembles slightly. "The magic is wrong—poisonous. That staircase likely leads to a death trap, and whatever lies at the bottom wants us to walk into it willingly." Her crimson eyes fix on Halie's frightened face. "Your holy symbol reacted—the goddess herself may be warning you away."

She looks to Varrika next, her expression softening fractionally despite the tension in her jaw. "Merrin cannot descend those stairs with that curse consuming her. We need to find another way to retrieve the sword without keeping it for ourselves." Jeane's hand hovers near her crossbow, ready to defend against whatever might emerge from below. "I propose we search this chamber more thoroughly. There may be hidden passages or alternate routes marked by symbols only a sorceress could read," she suggests, already scanning the walls with practiced eyes. "If there is no other way, I will go down alone—I am better equipped to withstand such magic than any of you."

I'm not going down that death-trap staircase. It's suicide and solves nothing. We need another way—or we leave Merrin behind. I won't be party to her murder by magical curiosity. My faith doesn't work on tombs that hate the living.

I squint at the dark staircase, the noxious fumes making my eyes water. Merrin's curse pulses like a sickening heartbeat, and I feel the weight of that accursed sword on her back. We can't let her take those stairs. "Alright, we search the chamber," I growl, meeting Jeane's gaze. "But if there's no other way..." I trail off, not wanting to voice the unthinkable. Merrin is one of us. But that sword... it's poison. And it's spreading. I turn to Halie, my voice softening. "Stay alert. Keep your holy symbol ready. If anything feels wrong..." I let the implication hang. As we fan out, I keep my hand on my mace, ready for anything. The ancient magic crawls over my skin like insects. This place... it's wrong. Tainted. And I fear what we'll find at the bottom of those stairs if we can't find another path. But we'll do whatever it takes. We always have. That's what comrades do, even in the face of curses and death.