Round 96

Something groans beneath them—stone grinding against stone in a way that has nothing to do with settling earth. The ground shifts subtly, and then the tower's entrance cracks open like a mouth yawning wide, revealing darkness beyond. Merrin staggers back instinctively, her hand still stinging from where she'd brushed the hidden plates. Magic sparked at her touch, and now the runes pulse with hungry light that casts flickering shadows across the stone face of the tower.

Jeane moves forward instead, her crimson eyes scanning the shadows for threats visible only to her kind—entities that might lurk just beyond mortal perception's edge. The air here tastes wrong, thick with decay and something else, something ancient that makes Merrin's skin crawl. She can feel it like a physical weight pressing against her chest, making each breath laborious. The magic isn't sleeping—it's feeding.

Varrika shifts her grip on the heavy mace, muscles tensing beneath scarred skin. She positions herself between Halie and the corridor...

Seraphine stands frozen before the tower's gate, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. The runes on its surface seem to writhe and pulse with a malevolent life of their own, their ancient magic coiling around them like a noose. "I don't think brute force is going to work here," she says, her voice so quiet it's nearly lost in the air. "This isn't just a lock; it's a living thing." Her eyes dart towards Merrin, who is already moving away from the gate, her movements sharp and decisive.