Round 82

Merrin's injury made things worse—she needed rest, not more recklessness. The air in The base of a crumbling stone tower felt wrong—like pressing against something thick and resistant, clinging to her skin with oily residue. Merrin's injury made things worse; she needed rest, not more recklessness. The weary human woman turned to face her companion directly. "Merrin," Halie said, her voice firm but compassionate, "your knee is scraped badly. You should sit this out." She gestured around them at the crumbling stone walls, the pulsing green runes that seemed to writhe with malevolent intent. Seraphine drew in a slow, steadying breath, her fingers tightening around the torch she carried. Its flame cast flickering shadows across the pulsating runes etched into the crumbling stone walls of the stairwell. My gaze darts from Merrin to Halie and back again, the sharp-eyed elf woman thought, something here is very wrong. The air feels thick with corruption. She could feel it clinging to her skin like oil, each breath drawing more of the foul stuff into her lungs. Jeane swept her gaze across the corridor's mouth, wings fluttertering instinctively as the wrongness here prickled at...