Round 21

The stones wept magic into the air like sweat from pores—as if the tower itself bled power outward in a slow, predatory drip. Varrika stepped forward, her mace held ready, and scanned the base with the practiced eye of someone who'd seen too many cursed ruins. "Halie," she called back over her shoulder, "keep those protective spells up. We're already dancing on something's dinner plate here." She moved to Merrin's side, voice low. "We need to map every inch of this ground level before Jeane gets above those wards. Find me anything unusual—the stones, the air temperature, even the dust patterns. Whatever feeds these things, we need to know where it starts."

Merrin nodded, already crouching down to examine the ground more closely. The air felt thick, charged with an ancient malevolence that prickled at her skin like static before a storm. A low, ominous humming emanated from deep within the structure—it almost sounded... hungry. "Jeane," she called out, keeping her voice low, "I need you to fly higher and get a bird's eye view of those upper levels. We need to know what we're walking into before we set foot inside."

Jeane circled twice more before descending, her wings beating steadily against the wind. The wards felt alive—predators on alert—and the magic they fed on wasn't sunlight or moonlight. It was something inside the tower. Something that hungered. 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.

"Whatever's feeding these wards," she said as she landed, "it isn't natural. We need to complete this ground map and identify the core source before whatever's inside notices we're snooping around its dinner plate."