Round 90 Transcript

As the group begins to discuss their plan, the destabilizing rune on the floor pulses brighter, casting an eerie blue glow across the chamber. The air thickens with an otherworldly energy, and the walls start to shudder ominously. Suddenly, the ground beneath Varrika's feet gives way, and she stumbles into a hidden pit, disappearing from view. The group is left standing in the pit, staring down at Varrika's legs, now dangling in mid-air. The darkness seems to close in around them, and the poisonous gases emanating from the pit grow stronger, their acrid scent filling their lungs. The air is thick with an unholy energy that makes it difficult to think clearly. Jeane's voice cuts through the uncertainty, "We need to move, now! We can't afford to lose Varrika!"

I force my wings tight against my back, the feathers aching as if pressed against hot coals. Every instinct screams at me to retreat before whatever hungry thing stirs below us, but I've come too far for caution alone. The central rune pulses brighter with each moment we stand here debating, and whatever lies at the bottom of that staircase likely reacts to our presence. I will go down alone. Varrika is right—the curse spreading through Merrin proves this sword is too dangerous for any of us to handle directly. But someone needs to retrieve it before the tower collapses completely or before Halie's faith falters under the weight of so much unholy energy. And I am better equipped to withstand such magic than any of you. This isn't bravery—I simply understand power dynamics more clearly than most. The sword wants a host, yes, but not necessarily its current one. If I can reach it first and control the transfer... well. That's what my kind does best—taking power from those who cannot wield it properly.

The air in this cursed chamber is thick enough to choke on. I won't let us linger here while Varrika fights for her life beneath our feet and Merrin... whatever's happening to her... I can feel it spreading already. This sword isn't worth sacrificing us one by one.

Varrika: I stare down into the pit, my heart pounding in my chest. The poisonous gases swirl and churn, an unholy mix of acrid smoke and sickly green light. I can see Jeane's wings straining against her back, her body tensed as if ready to leap at a moment's notice.