Round 41 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.

Jeane's voice echoes up from the darkness below. Varrika? Merrin? Can you hear me? The torch flickers, guttering low—two minutes maybe before it goes out completely. The wards etched into the stone walls of this hidden chamber pulse again, slower now than before she fell through the floor. Deliberate somehow. Lazy. Hungry.

Something scraped against stone earlier when I landed down here. Stopped moving after that first sound. Could be anything from Skeletons to structural collapse waiting to happen.

I crouch at the edge of the hidden pit, my heavy pack pressing into my back as I peer down into the darkness. The air is thick and cold here, smelling of damp stone and something else—something rotten and old that turns my stomach. Varrika is already there, her crossbow aimed down into the abyss, her face a mask of grim concentration. "The wards are slowing their pulse," I whisper, my voice nearly lost in the stillness. "Whatever's down there... it knows we're here."
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. This isn't what we planned for when we set out to recover the Time-Splitting Sword. We were supposed to be facing ancient threats, not something that feels alive and hungry.
My gaze falls on the runes etched into the stone floor around us. They pulse with a strange, hypnotic rhythm, feeding on some unseen energy in the air. It reminds me of a heartbeat, slow and deliberate, as if the entire tower is waiting for something. "Jeane?" I call out, my voice echoing in the chamber, louder than I intended.
There's no immediate response. Varrika shifts her weight, her muscles tensing as she scans the shadows below us. The sound of my own breathing seems deafening in the silence that follows.

Varrika crouches at the edge of the hidden pit, crossbow aimed down into the darkness. She takes a deep breath, her muscles tensing as she listens for any sign of movement from below. "Jeane!" she calls out, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "Answer me if you can hear me."

The air is heavy, thick with the scent of old stone and something else - something wrong. Varrika's eyes narrow as she scans the shadows, searching for any sign of undead horrors or dark magic. She shifts her weight, her muscles tensing as she prepares to fire at anything that might emerge from the pit. The wards etched into the floor pulse with an unsettling rhythm, feeding on some unseen energy. "Merrin," Varrika says, her voice low and urgent. "Keep your eyes peeled for any sign of movement. We need to get Jeane out of there before whatever's down there makes its move."

Varrika takes another deep breath, her fingers tightening around the crossbow. She knows that they are in a dangerous situation, but she also knows that they have to act quickly if they want to survive. "On my mark," she says, her voice steady and calm. "We move in on three. One... two..."