Round 9

Halie's anger at Elric's deception flares hot and sharp in her chest, a protective instinct surging alongside it. She moves closer to Merrin without thinking, her heavy mace gripped tight. "Stay still," she says firmly, voice cutting through the tense silence. Her mind races through possible remedies—holy water might purify the energy, but she doesn't want to agitate whatever's attached to Merrin. They can't let this dark magic spread.

Jeane circles around the barrier field carefully, her crimson eyes narrowed in concentration as she studies the pulsing runes on the ancient gate. The energy feels wrong—cold and biting despite its shimmering heat-haze appearance—but she can feel something familiar underneath it all. Something... hungry. She steps closer to Merrin, voice dropping to a low warning. "Something's attached to you," she hisses. "Don't move, don't struggle. It feeds on fear and panic."

Merrin edges closer to the runic gate despite every instinct screaming at her to back away. Her crossbow is unslung, ready for any sudden movement, but she knows this situation calls for precision over violence. She kneels carefully, examining the pulsing runes etched into the weathered stone with a rogue's keen eye. These aren't just decorative—they're part of some ancient mechanism or barrier. A low whistle escapes her lips as understanding dawns. "These aren't for show," she mutters to herself.

Seraphine steps closer to the gate, her sharp eyes tracing the intricate patterns of the runes etched into its surface. The air here feels thick with ancient magic—she can taste it on her tongue, feel it prickling along her skin like static electricity before a storm. This isn't simple barrier magic; it's something far older and more complex. She turns to Elric, noting his wide-eyed fear with a flicker of suspicion. "These aren't mere decorations," she says coolly. "There's power here that predates even the dark sorcerers you spoke of."