Round 34

Seraphine's keen elven eyes scan the pulsing sigils, her sharp gaze flicking between Halie and the writhing symbols. The rhythmic thrumming of ancient stones fills the air, a constant reminder of the malevolent power coursing through these walls. She can feel it in her bones—the magic here is alive, almost sentient, breathing too slowly like some great beast exhaling its noxious breath.

The ground shifts beneath Varrika's feet as unseen creatures scuttle below. The shadows coalesce into tangible forms, the stench of decay overwhelming Merrin's sensitive halfling senses. Jeane steps forward, his crimson eyes narrowed as he traces the sigils' unnatural rhythm. "Halie," he says urgently, "what do your senses tell you about this magic? And Merrin—if that bolt triggered a trap, we need to know the rules before blundering in." He turns to Seraphine. "Prepare a counter-spell for whatever emerges."

Merrin's stomach churns as the shadows solidify into twisted forms. She keeps her crossbow trained on the nearest creature, unease twisting in her gut. "Alright," she says grimly, "undead abominations ahead and who knows what else." She glances at Halie. "And Jeane—keep that demonic magic on a tight leash."

Seraphine's voice is barely above a whisper: "Halie, can your divine sight pierce this corruption?"