Round 22

The tower's magic feels wrong—it's not static protection, it's active predation. Something inside is feeding on these wards like they're blood vessels pumping energy outwards. I descend slowly, wings beating steadily. Everyone looks tired already and we haven't even entered yet. The oppressive aura emanating from the tower makes my skin crawl. I crouch down and examine the ground, marking suspicious slabs of stone. This place is wrong. The air feels thick, charged with an ancient malevolence. A low, ominous humming emanates from deep within the structure - it almost sounds... hungry.