Round 12

The gate's runes pulsed with hunger, each beat a promise of consumption. The ancient magic felt wrong—ravenous and sentient in a way that made Jeane's skin crawl. She spoke first, her voice tight with apprehension. "Merrin, put away those tools—now. The gate's runes aren't just carvings; they're eyes watching us." Her crimson gaze fixed on the stone barrier, reading the ancient sigils with a predator's instinct for danger. "And teeth waiting to bite if we use the wrong tool on them. This thing is sentient, hungry magic that feasts on desperation and iron."

Halie stepped back from the gate, her hand tightening around the hilt of her mace. The runes may have been ancient, but this magic felt... wrong. Hungry. Jeane's words carried weight, and Merrin's near-miss with the iron tools had been too close for comfort. "I need to assess first," she said, her voice steady despite the dread coiling in her gut. "Together. Varrika, keep your guard up. That thing inside isn't just footsteps anymore..."

The unknown entity within the tower took another deliberate step toward them, the sound echoing ominously through the stone. The runes' dark pulse seemed to quicken, their blue glow almost blinding now. Whatever magic this was, it was not just ancient—it was alive and aware. Merrin's tools could trigger traps, and that thing inside wasn't just footsteps anymore. It was deliberate. Predatory.

Varrika tightened her grip on the heavy mace, positioning herself between Halie and the corridor. "Alright, listen up," she growled. "This ward is playing games with us, and I don't like it. Merrin, put away those iron tools unless you want to feed them to...

The magic of the gate pulsed with hunger, each beat a promise of consumption. The runes were eyes that saw too much and teeth that waited for careless hands. They had stumbled upon something ancient and ravenous, a guardian that fed on desperation and iron. Jeane spoke first, her voice tight with apprehension. "Merrin, put away those tools—now. The gate's runes aren't just carvings; they're eyes watching us." Her crimson gaze fixed on the stone barrier, reading the ancient sigils with a predator's instinct for danger. "And teeth waiting to bite if we use the wrong tool on them. This thing is sentient, hungry magic that feasts on desperation and iron."