Round 16 Transcript

At The base of a crumbling stone tower, the pressure shifts from waiting to immediate risk. The ward answers the party's presence with a fresh pulse through the stone and no one can mistake it for safety. The nearest sign of danger is now Skeletons: Undead remnants of the tower's original defenders, now animated by dark magic to endlessly guard their ancient home.. Someone has to answer that change now.

I see it now. The ward wasn't decaying—someone was feeding it. Fresh dark magic, layered over the old spells like paint over rot. And those skeletons... they're not shambling anymore. They're moving in patterns. Someone's giving orders down there. >Merrin, keep that crossbow ready but don't fire unless absolutely necessary. We need to map their patrol routes first, identify any command center before we go deeper. Varikka—signal the others to hold formation and stay quiet. Halie, I'll try to trace this fresh pulse upstairs where it's strongest. >If we're lucky, it's just some necromancer getting greedy with the leftovers. If not... well, let's hope Halie's light can handle whatever comes at us.

I keep my crossbow aimed at the shadows ahead, finger light on the trigger. The air is thick with the weight of history and the sour tang of dark magic. I can feel the pulse of the ward against my skin like a sick heartbeat. "Halie," I whisper, "keep that holy symbol ready. Whatever's animating these things, it's not just some mindless spell."

I scan the corridor, eyes straining in the gloom. The skeletons move too purposefully for mere undead instinct. No, someone or something is directing them now. Jeane's right—we need to be careful. But we also need answers. I tighten my grip on the crossbow and step forward into the unknown, ready to fire at the first sign of threat. Let's hope Halie's light can handle whatever comes at us. Because if not... well, it's a long way back out of this accursed tower.

I feel it too—the ward isn't just old magic failing, something's feeding it fresh power. Merrin, keep that crossbow ready but don't fire unless absolutely necessary; we need to understand what's changed before we act. Jeane, can you sense the source of this? We need to know if we're dealing with some necromancer getting greedy or... something worse. [I will maintain vigilance and healing readiness, but my gut says this is more than just a simple haunting. The air feels wrong—not just dead, but actively hostile.]

I feel it too. That wrongness in the air, like rot seeping into my bones. The skeletons, they're not just shambling ruins anymore. Something's animating them now, giving them purpose beyond mere defense. My grip tightens on the heavy mace. I step forward, putting myself between the party and the unknown dangers ahead. "Halie, Merrin - stay sharp. Jeane, if you can feel that magic, trace it back to the source. We need to know what we're dealing with before it notices us."

The tower looms, its ancient stones pulsing with a foul energy. I can hear the clatter of bones behind the doors, the skittering of undead feet on stone. We're not alone here, and whatever commands these skeletons... it knows we've come. But we came for a reason. The Time-Splitting Sword is in there, and with it, the chance to end this darkness once and for all. So we press on, into the heart of the accursed tower, weapons ready, minds sharp. Whatever comes, we'll face it together. The weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders like an old friend. I am Varrika Thornwake, and I will keep my people safe. Even if it means fighting through the very depths of hell itself.