Round 44

The wards pulse dies down to a barely perceptible thrum as Halie descends into the pit's shadow, mace ready but lowered, holding out her silver holy symbol in broad, reassuring movements. The magic screams back at her presence—screeching dark energy that makes her skin crawl—the air around her shimmering with malevolent intent. A skeletal hand shoots out from below, cold bone fingers wrapping around her shoulder and pulling her back just inches from the edge. Her holy symbol flares to life, divine energy burning hot against the undead touch as she fights to maintain her balance.

Varrika crouches at the pit's edge, crossbow aimed but not yet fired, finger tightening on the trigger as the skeletal horror emerges into view. Its eyes fixate on Halie with malevolent hunger—damned thing wants her for a snack. She mutters under her breath, "Thought we left these things behind in the catacombs." The air grows colder by the second, ancient evil seeping into her bones and making her skin crawl.

Jeane lies trapped below, wards barely functioning now, air thin and cold pressing down on her. Something massive moves in the shadows below—the scraping sounds are getting closer with each passing moment. The air is too thin down here—she's starting to feel dizzy from the pressure change. Whatever made those sounds is almost upon her now—she needs a rope or escape route, fast.

Halie struggles against the skeleton's grip, trying to maintain her composure for the sake of party morale even as cold bone fingers dig into her flesh. "Jeane! Can you hear me?" Her voice echoes back from the stone walls, distorted by the magic surrounding the pit. The creature's touch is unyielding and freezing—its grip a dead thing's embrace—but her holy symbol continues to burn with divine energy, its power flowing into her and giving her strength against the horror. Varrika, I know you're good with that crossbow, but keep your distance unless something worse emerges. We need to assess this situation before it escalates further.

The wards pulse down to a barely perceptible thrum as Halie descends into the pit's shadow, mace ready but lowered, holding out her silver holy symbol in broad, reassuring movements. The magic screams back at her presence—screeching dark energy that makes her skin crawl—the air around her shimmering with malevolent intent. A skeletal hand shoots out from below, cold bone fingers wrapping around her shoulder and pulling her back just inches from the edge. Her holy symbol flares to life, divine energy burning hot against the undead touch as she fights to maintain her balance.

Varrika coutches at the pit's edge, crossbow aimed but not yet fired, finger tightening on the trigger as the skeletal horror emerges into view. Its eyes fixate on Halie with malevolent hunger—damned thing wants her for a snack. She mutters under her breath, "Thought we left these things behind in the catacombs." The air grows colder by the second, ancient evil seeping into her bones and making her skin crawl.

Varrika crouches at the pit's edge, crossbow aimed but not yet fired, finger tightening on the trigger as the skeletal horror emerges into view. Its eyes fixate on Halie with malevolent hunger—damned thing wants her for a snac.