Round 13

The tower's base reveals its secrets through touch and sight alike. The magic here is not static—it breathes, it feeds.

Jeane moves with deliberate care, her fingers tracing the stonework like a blind woman reading Braille. Her expression shifts as she feels the truth of the place: this isn't defense. It's predation disguised as architecture.

Seraphine completes her own spell, the air around her hands shimmering briefly before settling back into night. She studies the ancient parchment intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. The map is a lie, clearly—something meant to mislead rather than guide.

The two women exchange a look that speaks volumes. The wards are active, hungry, and likely connected to something far worse inside. The question hangs unasked between them: do we proceed knowing the trap is not just set, but actively hunting?