Round 13 Transcript

The tension in The base of a crumbling stone tower, its entrance sealed by an ancient rune-covered gate, deep within the haunted Whispering Woods tightens for a beat as the interruption refuses to go away. Everyone is forced to stay quiet and choose their next move carefully.

The runes pulse like dark hearts beneath my palm—cold, insistent, alive in a way no stone should be. Merrin's leg has gone from injured to infected with darkness in minutes; whatever touched her isn't casual. It isn't incidental. This is predation. I step back sharply. "Merrin, stay absolutely still." To Elric: "What do you know about the barrier field and this...thing attached to Merrin? Speak plainly now—every word matters."

I step forward, mace ready, and glare at Elric through the tension. “Speak plainly,” I demand, my voice even but unyielding. “What is this barrier field? And what have you truly hidden about Merrin’s injury?” The pulsing runes on the gate feel like cold breath against my skin—not alive, dead perhaps, or worse. I won’t let this thing take Merrin without a fight.

The air crackles with an otherworldly energy, a malevolent presence coiling around us all.
I take a slow step back from the gate, my eyes fixed on the runes that pulse like living veins. They writhe against the stone, their meaning becoming clearer by the second. It’s not just a warning—it’s a challenge.
The barrier field shimmers, its surface rippling like water disturbed by an unseen hand. A chill runs down my spine as I watch it, knowing now that it is reacting to something far more dangerous than our presence here.
My gaze falls upon Merrin, her face contorted in pain as she clutches at her injured leg. Dark energy seethes from the wound, a sickly black mist swirling around her ankle before dissipating into the air. Elric's words echo in my mind: "Whatever touched her isn’t casual."
I turn to Jeane, seeing the same concern etched on her features as she studies the gate. Her sorcerous instincts are far keener than mine, and if anyone can unravel this mystery, it’s her.
"Jeane," I call out, my voice a low murmur that struggles against the oppressive silence. "What do you make of those runes? Can you sense what... or who... is controlling them?"