Round 59

Jeane watched Halie light her silver cross, the warm glow a stark contrast to the oppressive gloom of the tower's interior. The sorceress's crimson eyes narrowed as she focused on the lingering traces of dark energy still clinging to the stonework. "Something's definitely here," she said softly, her wings twitching with barely contained unease. "I can feel it—like a cold hand reaching out from between the stones." She turned to face Merrin directly, her expression stern despite the apprehension in her eyes. "Stay sharp and quiet, I meant what I said. One wrong move could bring this whole cursed place down on our heads."

Halie's blue-grey eyes met Jeane's, a silent understanding passing between them—the shared weight of responsibility for keeping their small party alive in this hellish place. She moved closer to Merrin, her hand resting lightly on the halfling's shoulder—a gesture both protective and restraining. "Something's not right," she murmured, echoing Merrin's words but infusing them with a gravity the younger woman seemed to lack. "This whole tower feels... wrong. Like reality itself is bruised here." She held up her cross, letting its light cast dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls. "We should take a moment before proceeding. Let me purify this space properly—every inch of it—and tell you what my senses are picking up."

Merrin's dark eyes darted around the shadowed stairwell, her hands fidgeting with the lockpicks at her belt. The weight of their situation pressed down on her like a physical force, making each breath feel heavy and labored. "Something's not right," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else—as if speaking aloud might summon whatever malevolent presence lingered in these halls. She took a cautious step forward, her boots echoing softly on the ancient stone beneath them—a sound that seemed too loud in the oppressive silence of the tower.

The halfling scout woman's gaze fixed on Halie's silver cross, its warm glow a comforting beacon against the encroaching darkness. "Keep that holy light of yours burning bright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're gonna need every bit of protection we can get in here." Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her crossbow, the cold metal a grounding presence amidst the swirling unease that filled her mind.