Round 21

Seraphine began her work with a careful gesture, tracing the ancient runes etched into the stone with her eyes rather than her fingers. The air crackled with an energy that made her skin crawl, and she could feel the magic of this place pressing against her own spells like a physical weight. This wasn't mere stonework—these were wards bound with dark magic older than her people's legends or the goddess she served. Whatever lay beyond this gate was ancient and powerful, and it didn't want visitors.

"Stop," she said sharply, her voice cutting through the tense silence. "Merrin, put down those tools right now." The halfling woman had already reached for her lockpicks, her fingers brushing iron before she froze at Seraphine's warning. With a sigh of frustration, Merrin stepped back and crossed her arms, trying to ignore the prickling sensation of ancient magic on her skin.

"Alright, alright," she muttered. "No iron for now. But as soon as you give the word, I'm on that lock like a hawk on a mouse." Her gaze flickered to the dark corridor beyond the gate, and she couldn't shake the feeling that whatever was in there was watching them. Waiting.

Seraphine turned her attention to Jeane, who stood at the gate's edge, her fingers hovering just above the pulsing stone surface. The ward was responding to her arcane probing, humming with a low, raspy energy that seemed to echo from within the stone itself. A voice—old and dry as dust—spoke then, carried on the air like a sigh: "You should not have come here."

The entity within the tower took a slow step forward, its presence marked by an unsettling silence that seemed to press against their eardrums. The skeletons at the gate stood motionless, their bony hands still grasping the stone, their empty sockets fixed on the intruders with an unnerving intensity.

Jeane traced the runes carefully, feeling their ancient energy pulse against her fingertips. This wasn't mere stonework—these were wards bound with dark magic older than any goddess or god she knew of. The ward was alive and it didn't want visitors. Merrin, put down those tools right now. Iron might trigger whatever defenses this thing has left.

Seraphine, cast a simple detection spell on the gate—something to gauge what we're dealing with before we stumble into it blindly. Whatever's in there, whatever's making those footsteps... it knows we're here now.

The air crackled with tension as the party stood before the ancient gate, the ward's magic pulsing with growing intensity, the unknown entity within the tower taking another slow step forward. The skeletons remained motionless, their bony hands still grasping the stone, their empty sockets fixed on the intruders with an unnerving intensity.