Round 31

The ancient stones groaned in protest as the party descended deeper into the tower's embrace. Halie led the way, her mace held ready, every sense alert for the first hint of undead presence. The air grew colder with each step downward, and something else—a wrongness that prickled at the back of her neck like the first chill of fever. What ancient horror fuels these bones? she murmured to herself, more prayer than question.

The stone steps complained underfoot—ancient wood and stone complaining about the intrusion after centuries of silence. Her holy symbol felt warm against her palm, a comforting weight that grounded her in the present despite the tower's oppressive atmosphere. The air grew colder with each step downward, and something else... a wrongness that prickled at the back of her neck like the first chill of fever.

What ancient horror fuels these bones? Halie murmured to herself, more prayer than question. The stone remembers screams. She traced the pulsing runes on the wall with her eyes—faint lines of power still active after all this time, feeding something dark and hungry deep within the tower's heart. The magic felt wrong, twisted into something that fed on despair rather than divine grace.

Seraphine, tell me what you see, she called up the stairs, her voice barely louder than a whisper but carrying clearly in the still air. And Varrika—keep that entrance clear...

In the darkness below, Jeane was very much alive but trapped. The pit smelled of old stone and decay—something ancient and wrong. Her wings were trapped against the walls; she could barely move them in this confined space. Above, Merrin's voice echoed with panic: 'Can you hear me? Is she alright?' Her fear traveled through solid stone like water.

Hold, Jeane called back, her voice steadier than she felt. Merrin—calm yourself. Take a deep breath. She needed to respond before the elf's terror drew every undead horror in this cursed tower. The stone around her vibrated with dark energy, pulsing in rhythm with the runes above.

The air grew thick with dread as Merrin's panicked calls echoed from beneath the floorboards. Seraphine held her heavy mace tighter, the weight both a comfort and a burden in this crumbling place. Her eyes darted to the glowing runes that pulsed along the walls like beating hearts of stone, their light growing brighter by the second.

My Goddess, what is that sound? It's coming from under the floor! she turned to Halie, her expression grim and determined. Halie, can you hear anything else? Any movement down there?