Round 31 Transcript

Jeane's crossbow bolt finds its mark, striking one of the undead skeletons with a loud crack. The creature shambles forward, its bony arms outstretched, as the ward responds to the party's presence with a fresh pulse through the stone. The glowing runes on the walls pulse brighter, casting eerie shadows on the ground floor. The air is thick with the scent of decay and something else, something metallic and acrid. Varrika's crossbow bolt finds its mark, striking another skeleton as it holds the entrance to the tower secure. Merrin's voice echoes from the hidden pit, panic clawing at her throat. "I think I see a way out... or down. The pit seems to be shifting, and there's a faint glow coming from deeper in. But I don't know if it's safe!"

I am still alive down here, but just barely. The pit smells of old stone and decay—something ancient and wrong. My wings are trapped against the walls; I can barely move them in this confined space. Above, Merrin's voice echoes with panic: 'Can you hear me? Is she alright?' Her fear travels through solid stone like water. I need to respond before her terror draws every undead horror in this cursed tower. 'Hold,' I call up, my voice steadier than I feel. 'Merrin—calm yourself. Take a deep breath.' The darkness here is absolute; even my demonic vision fails to penetrate it beyond a few feet. Something shifts below me—not stone settling, but deliberate movement. Multiple somethings. Small claws or clicking bone against stone. Skeletons? No, too many sounds for just one animated corpse. I draw my heavy mace with numb fingers, crossbow useless in this confined space. The sound comes again—louder now, closer to the pit's edge. I extend a hand, conjure weak witchlight that trembles like a candle flame in wind. The sphere of pale yellow light illuminates smooth stone walls descending into blackness below me and darkness above. The pit continues downward—I can't see its bottom. But I can see shadows moving just beyond my vision's edge. 'Merrin,' I call again, louder now, 'Listen to me. You are trapped with me in this shaft or chamber beneath the tower floor. There are... things down here with us.' I hear her muffled response above: 'What kind of things?' Panic still clings to every word. I don't answer immediately because I don't know—and because I don't want her imagination filling in the blanks. I'm a demon, yes. Powerful when properly prepared and not exhausted or confined. But power means little against unknown threats in absolute darkness with no escape route and wings trapped against stone. My supply of healing potions sits safely above ground with Varikka—they're useless to me here unless I can reach them or Merrin can throw them down. The sounds below grow more distinct: dry clicking, soft scraping like bone on stone, something that might be breathing if bones could breathe. The witchlight flickers as my concentration wavers. I need a plan, and quickly—something beyond 'hope the girls find a way to pull us up before we starve or whatever's down here climbs up.' Because starving is better than what those sounds below probably want. The runes on the walls here pulse with faint light—the same pulsing I felt upstairs when the skeletons animated. This whole tower is alive in some horrifying way, and we're trapped inside its stomach. 'Halie?' I call upward. 'Can you hear me? Send Seraphine down—she can levitate us out if there's space above.' Silence answers for a moment too long, then Halie's voice: 'We're mapping the floor now. There might be a way to reach you.'

I don't tell them what I'm hearing below because they don't need that fear added to their own. Instead I say, 'Good. Find quickly.' Because every second feels like years in this darkness with something hungry moving just out of sight. Then Merrin's voice again: 'Jeane? Are you okay?' Her question is simple, genuine—terrified but trying to sound steady for me as I tried for her moments ago. I almost laugh because of course she'd ask that now, after my earlier command for calm. But I don't laugh; I answer truthfully. 'I'm alive,' I say, and the words echo in stone long after the sound fades. 'And I intend to stay that way.'

The air grows thick with dread as Merrin's panicked calls echo from beneath the floorboards. I hold my heavy mace tighter, the weight both a comfort and a burden in this crumbling place. My eyes dart to the glowing runes that pulse 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!"
I turn to Halie, her expression grim and determined.
"Halie, can you hear anything else? Any movement or... other things moving down there?"
The thought of more undead stirring below my feet sends a chill down my spine. I take a shaky step back from the edge of where Merrin's voice seems to be coming from.

The stone floor creaks ominously under my boots. I peer into the dark pit, heart pounding, as Merrin's panicked cries echo from below. By the gods, what have we stumbled into? Halie, your prayers might be our only hope here. Seraphine, keep that mace ready. If undead come crawling out of this hole, we'll need steel and sorcery to stop them. I strain my ears for any sign of Jeane, but the darkness swallows her voice. Merrin, can you hear me? We're doing everything we can to get you out. Just hold on. This tower feels like a tomb—one that wants to swallow us whole. Every shadow holds a threat. I can feel it in my bones, the same way I knew a battle was coming before the first arrows flew. We need to be ready for anything that slinks out of those depths. But first, we find Merrin. Halie, what do your senses tell you? Is she alive down there? I keep my crossbow trained on the pit's edge, watching for any hint of movement. My hands are steady, but inside I'm as tense as a drawn bowstring. This is the kind of place where heroes go missing and legends die. We've faced undead before. But whatever magic fuels these horrors feels different—older, darker. And now it has Merrin. I'll be damned if we lose her to this accursed tower. We find her, we fight our way out, or we all go down together. But we'll need more than courage to survive this. Halie, your light and blessings might be what keeps us sane in the dark. Seraphine, your spells could be the difference between life and death. And Merrin... keep fighting. We're coming for you.

I hear movement below—the scrape of bone on stone. This isn't right. Merrin, are you still there? Speak up. Something shifts in the darkness beneath me. The runes pulse again, brighter now. Seraphine, stand back. Varrika, don't come any closer—this floor isn't safe. We need to find another way down. I touch my holy symbol, fingers tracing the Goddess's face. The stone vibrates underfoot, remembering blood and magic. I can feel it humming with dark energy. This place... it's alive somehow. Not in the good way. I crouch low, pressing my ear to the floorboards. Jeane? Can you hear me? Where are you exactly? I need to focus. The others are counting on me. But this tower... it's hungry. And I'm not sure prayer is enough to satisfy its appetite.