Round 20

The tower's magic pulsed like a living thing, each beat sending a fresh wave of apprehension through them. Seraphine stood at the oaken doors, her fingers tracing the ancient carvings as she probed the wards with her mind. The spells weren't merely defensive—they fed on something within, drawing power from... what? A sacrifice? An imprisoned spirit?

Jeane circled higher, her wings beating steadily against the wind. From above, the stonework formed a grotesque pattern of interlocking sigils that writhed in her vision. Each ward was indeed a mouth, breathing dust and hunger into the air around them. She marked the patterns carefully on her map—three layers of wards, each more aggressive than the last. The core energy seemed to emanate from deep within, possibly the basement levels.

Halie completed her detection spell with a sigh of relief, the magic fading from her eyes. "Fifty minutes," she said grimly. "That's our window before whatever's inside this hellhole notices us snooping." She glanced at Merrin and Varrika. "Map everything—stone markings, shifts in temperature, anything that feels... off." Her gaze lifted to Jeane's distant form circling above. "And you—give us eyes we can't get on the ground. But stay high enough that those wards don't grab you."

Seraphine joined them, her elven face pale but determined. "I'm getting a reading from deep inside—the wards are connected to something massive at the tower's core. It's not just a barrier system; it's a predator that's been starving for centuries." She pulled out her spellbook. "I need to map these signatures completely before we attempt entry. If we break one without understanding the others, we could unleash whatever's feeding them."

The three women stood in tense silence at the base of the tower, the weight of their shared purpose pressing down like a physical force. The wards pulsed again, their hunger growing more insistent with each passing moment. They had a plan—now they needed the skill and luck to execute it before time ran out.