Round 90

The air inside the new corridor feels different—cold and wrong in a way that makes her skin crawl. Ancient runes pulsed with malevolent energy along the walls, their patterns seeming to writhe under the torchlight.

Merrin pauses at the threshold of a new passage revealed by the collapsed stair, her injured knee throbbing. The air inside the new corridor feels different—cold and wrong in a way that makes her skin crawl. Ancient runes pulsed with malevolent energy along the walls, their patterns seeming to writhe under the torchlight.

She grits her teeth against the pain in her leg, weighing the risks of proceeding further into the unstable tower. The whispers that had pursued them through the woods coalesced into something disturbingly like laughter echoing through the corridor ahead—a sound that scraped against sanity. This place is a death trap!

Her gaze darts frantically around the tower entrance, her heart pounding in her chest. The air feels thick with malevolent energy, and the whispers seem to grow louder with each passing moment. Halie's desperate cries from beneath the rubble snap Merrin into action. Halie! she shouts, scrambling over the debris. Hold on, we're coming!

She tries to stabilize the rubble, fearing that any wrong move could trigger an unknown danger. The ancient runes pulse ominously in response to her presence.

Jeane approaches carefully, placing her hand against the cold stone. The detection spell pulses beneath her palm, revealing the hidden pathway. There's an opening here, she says, voice low. A pocket of space beyond this wall. It might lead around the worst of it.

The energy here is ancient and malevolent. One wrong step could trigger something we can't stop. Merrin needs to rest her knee, she adds, eyeing the halfling's scraped leg. Let Halie tend to that before infection sets in. Varrika and I will c...

Seraphine stands still in the oppressive silence of this ancient place, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The air here is thick with a malevolent energy that seems to press down on me, making each breath a conscious effort.

Her gaze sweeps over the crumbling stonework, the faintly glowing runes etched into their surface, and the precarious pile of rubble that has Halie trapped beneath it. A shiver runs through her, a primal fear of what this magic might unleash if we disturb it.