Round 10

As Merrin's slender fingers danced across the lockpicks, the scrape of metal on stone echoed through the tower's musty air. The revealed shadow glyph glimmered like a dark mirror, its presence confirmed by the faint, well-touched marks beneath the dust. The dormant ward responded to the new glyph, its hum deepening into a low, ominous thrum. A cold draft swept across the floor, but the gate remained sealed, its ancient magic stubbornly unyielding.

Merrin's eyes narrowed as she worked to uncover more of the glyphs, her mind racing with the implications of the partial success. The fine points of her lockpicks revealed glimmers of additional runes, partially obscured beneath layers of grime and dust. She carefully set to work, her hands moving with a precision born of experience and caution. The air was heavy with tension, the silence between them oppressive, as Merrin's companions waited anxiously for the next move in their delicate dance with the ward's secrets.