Round 49 Transcript

Merrin's cautious climb along the crumbling stone wall seems to slow down her progress, but she presses on, her eyes fixed on Halie's back. The faint creaking echoes from within the tower's depths continue, punctuated by an unsettling silence. As Merrin takes another step, a section of the wall gives way under her weight, narrowly avoiding a collapse that would have sent her plummeting into the unknown. A jagged crack runs down the wall, and a small, rusty pipe bursts forth from the masonry, spewing a noxious cloud of gas that makes the air around it seem to ripple with malevolent energy. The force of the pipe's release sends Merrin stumbling backward, her hand instinctively reaching for the crossbow at her side.

I take a deep breath, the air heavy with dust and some deeper, more sinister scent that makes my skin crawl. The ancient runes etched into the walls pulse with an eerie light, casting long shadows across the group huddled at the base of the stairs. My eyes narrow as I study them, noting how they seem to draw power from the very stones themselves. It's a level of sorcery I've only read about in the most forbidden tomes.
The thought of ascending those steps fills me with a profound sense of unease. Halie is right; there’s a wrongness here, an ancient hunger that radiates from every crack and crevice. The tower feels alive, but in a way no living thing should be.
I turn to Merrin, who has begun her treacherous climb along the crumbling wall. Her courage impresses me, even if it’s misguided. "Merrin," I call out, my voice carrying a note of quiet command over the groans of the old stonework. "Be wary of what you find up there. The magic in these walls... it's not just present. It's starving."
My gaze drifts to Halie, who stands resolutely at the bottom of the stairs. A flicker of respect sparks within me. She understands this place better than any of us, sensing the corruption before we could see its signs. "Perhaps there is wisdom in seeking another way," I say, my voice softer now, almost a murmur meant only for her ears. "The path we choose here may shape the very nature of what awaits us at the end of this journey."*

I circle above, leathery wings spread wide, catching updrafts from the tower's ruined facade. The air here is thick with decay and old magic—the kind that leaves a foul taste on your tongue and makes your skin crawl. Below me, Merrin clings to crumbling stone like a desperate insect, and Halie stands guard at the base of those cursed stairs, her holy symbol gripped tight. I can feel it too—something ancient and hungry nested in these walls. This place screams danger, but we didn't come all this way just to turn back because of bad vibes. The Time-Splitting Sword is up there somewhere, and whoever—or whatever—hid it isn't going to hand it over nicely. But neither am I foolish enough to walk into a trap without at least knowing what kind of snare awaits us. I descend slowly, circling once more before landing beside Halie. "The runes aren't just pulsing—they're drawing power from the stones themselves," I tell her, voice low. "Whatever was done here, it's not natural magic." My senses are on fire with warning signs—this whole tower feels like a giant sigil waiting to activate. We need an alternative route, something that bypasses whatever horror waits at the top of those stairs. A service corridor perhaps, or some forgotten passage we can use instead. But first, I need to know what exactly we're dealing with here—what kind of magic corruption lingers in this place?

I won't set foot on those stairs until we understand what's feeding those runes. It's not just magic—it's hunger. We need to find another way up, or at least find out what's waiting at the top before we march into its lair. Merrin, wait. I'm not stopping you, but if you're going, go smart. This whole tower feels like a stomach waiting for dinner.