Round 98 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.

Merrin's eyes dart from Jeane to the tower entrance, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Alright, alright. No need to twist my arm." She pulls her hand back from the runes, wincing at the lingering burn. "But I'll have you know that I was making progress! Those symbols, they're like a puzzle waiting to be solved."

She takes a step back, rubbing her hands together to ward off the residual chill. "So, what's this about an alternative entrance? You found something while I was... exploring?" The halfling's voice is laced with both curiosity and a hint of defensiveness. Merrin glances at the tower gate, where the runes continue their ominous pulsing. "I don't like it either," she mutters, more to herself than to anyone else. "But we can't just stand here all day. That thing inside is getting restless."

She turns to Seraphine, her expression a mix of determination and apprehension. "Lead the way, then. Let's see what this service entrance has in store for us." Merrin draws closer, her voice hushed. "And next time, try not to shout so loud. We don't want whatever's inside to know we're coming."

I won't have us stumble into a magical trap because Merrin can't keep her hands off everything ferrous. The ward's hunger is ancient and twisted—it feeds on something trapped inside. We need to understand its mechanics before throwing ourselves at it. Varrika, you're right—Halie maps the runes carefully from distance; Merrin keeps iron tools away until we grasp what triggers the thing. It's alive, yes, but magic this old is always hungry for something. We don't want to be whatever's feeding it today. I circle the tower perimeter, tracing mortar lines with a finger tip, avoiding direct contact with the runes themselves—even that brief touch burned wrong. The stones feel cold in a way that burns, ancient power seeping out like rot. The map is garbage. There's no service entrance on this side. I call Merrin back sharply when she drifts too close again, her fingers reaching for the gate like it calls to her. Something inside the tower knows we're here now—I can feel it moving around, heavy footsteps echoing through stone that shouldn't carry sound so clearly. Whatever's feeding the ward is awake and aware. We need another way in or a better plan than opening ourselves to whatever's trapped within. That thing isn't human anymore—it hasn't been for centuries. The ward wants us because it's hungry, and I won't serve as anyone's sacrifice tonight.

I turn my back on the writhing gate, the oppressive presence of the ward pressing down like a physical weight upon my shoulders. The air here is thick with ancient power, a palpable hunger that makes my skin crawl. My eyes sweep over the crumbling stone, searching for any sign of an alternative entrance.
"This is no ordinary magic," I mutter, more to myself than to the others. My fingers trace the edge of my spellbook, a familiar comfort in this unsettling place. "The runes... they're alive somehow."
My gaze lands on Jeane, who is circling the tower with a wariness I share. She catches my eye and gives a small nod, confirming our shared concern. I see Varrika standing guard, her heavy mace gripped tightly in her hands, ready for whatever might emerge from within.
"Find another way," *I call out, my voice firm despite the tremor of exhaustion that runs through it. "We cannot risk what lies beyond if we do not understand its nature first."