Round 99

The tower's hunger pulses through the stones around them, a predatory rhythm that grows slower with each descending step. The central rune casts its light like a starved sun, painting the walls in shades of decaying power. Jeane's wings resist the thick oppressive magic that makes her skin crawl and feathers ache. She can feel every stone watching them, pulsing with malice. That rune isn't just a decoration—it's a heart beating poison into this place.

Halie moves closer to Varrika, her hand hovering uncertainly between comfort and distance from the spreading corruption. The magic here feels wrong—something unclean even in the stillness between breaths. She needs to bless the water before they drink it, but the thought of touching anything in these halls makes her skin crawl. Varrika's right about Merrin. They have to try something, anything, before that curse spreads further.

Varrika forces herself upright despite the poison burning through her veins, her dwarf's stubborn nature flaring defiantly against the encroaching darkness. She glares at the rune with fierce determination, knowing full well the price of failure but unwilling to abandon Merrin to whatever fate awaits below. The mace in her hand becomes an extension of that iron will, a symbol of their unbreakable resolve despite the tower's malevolent attempts to shatter it.

Jeane can feel it too—the tower is alive with hunger. Every stone seems to watch them, pulsing with malice. That central rune is no mere decoration; it's a heart beating poison into this place. We shouldn't be here. The magic feels wrong, ancient and corrupt in ways even she can barely comprehend. Each moment they linger increases the risk. Merrin is already lost to that curse, twisting her body into something unrecognizable. Her sacrifice means nothing if we follow her down into whatever waits below...

Halie needs to bless the water before they drink it. The magic here feels wrong—something unclean even in the stillness between breaths. Varrika's right about Merrin. We have to try something, anything, before that curse spreads further. But this place... it wants us. Every stone has teeth. I'll keep the light going.

Varrika keeps her senses sharp as they descend deeper into this accursed tower. Her axe is at the ready, prepared to hew through any skeletal warriors or other foul creatures that may lurk in wait. The central rune pulses with an ominous energy, and she can feel it seeping into her bones. This place feels alive, hungry, as if it wants to consume them whole. Every step is fraught with danger, and she knows they must be cautious.

Jeane's keen eye marks a safe path, but even the stones beneath their feet seem to shift...