Round 29

The tower's wards are not passive defenses; they're active predators. The ground shifts beneath them, settling with a sound that feels deliberate rather than random decay. The structure breathes, feeds on something inside. Fifteen minutes remain before it decides whether to welcome visitors or... something else.

Jeane moves forward, her wings half-spread for balance, eyes scanning the crumbling stone. "Stop mapping the damage," she snaps at Halie. "We don't need to know which stones shift—we need to know what's feeding them." Her voice is tight with urgency. "You said your ward-detection spell needs five minutes of quiet focus? We might have two before whatever's upstairs decides we're more than just trespassers."

Halie stands near the base, her expression grim. The stonework pulses around them, rhythmic and deliberate—breathing. This isn't ancient magic sleeping; it's active predation. "Merrin, Varrika," she calls out to the unseen companions, "mark every stone that shifts or changes temperature. We're past stealth." Her hand grips her holy symbol tightly. "Jeane, if you're going up, do it fast. We can't afford to wait for your report."

The ward magic intensifies, pulsing faster. Something inside the tower responds to their presence—awakens further. The stone underfoot shifts again, settling with a groan that sounds almost like satisfaction.

Jeane's already moving, her powerful wings catching air. "I'll be back in sixty seconds," she calls over her shoulder. "Stay close." Her form rises rapidly toward the upper windows, dark against the night sky.

Halie watches her ascend, worry etched on her face. "Sixty seconds," she mutters. "Right." She turns to Merrin and Varrika. "We move on my signal. If Jeane screams or doesn't return in three minutes, we fall back and regroup." The ward magic pulses again—faster now.