Round 47 Transcript

The ward-stones shudder, their hunger stuttering. The connection convulses, sending a feedback loop screeching back up the tower's throat. A shape resolves at the window: upright but wrong, jointed in places no human should bend. It turns toward them with mechanical deliberation, too large and wrong for any mortal silhouette. The Time Limit is down to 3 minutes. The entity upstairs has abandoned subtlety; it's coming down.

I move toward Merrin at the window. The ward-stones' hunger pulses faster now—it's not just feeding off them anymore; whatever's upstairs is responding, changing course. We have maybe ninety seconds before something descends those stairs. I glance back at Seraphine. If we go in now, we lose element of surprise completely. But if we stay out here... The tower groans. The ward-stones convulse again, and this time the vibration has a rhythm to it—a cadence that wasn't there before. Whatever's coming down is organized, intentional. I draw my crossbow, loading a bolt. Merrin. Tell me what you see inside that window right now—exactly what you see. I need to know if we're dealing with one thing or ten things.

I feel the air itself begin to hum with a malevolent energy as the ward-stones convulse under my hands, their desperate hunger suddenly stuttering into something far more sinister.
The connection I'd been trying so carefully to trace through them severs with a psychic snap that makes my head ring, and I stumble back from the window with a gasp.
"Everyone, get ready!" I call out, my voice sharp with urgency as I frantically gather up my scattered robes.
My eyes dart towards the dark silhouette still hovering at the top of the tower, now clearer than ever. It's not just a shadow anymore - it's something aware, something that has abandoned all pretense of subtlety.
Whatever you were going to do in there... forget it.
I think, my heart hammering against my ribs as I meet Varrika's wide-eyed gaze across the crumbling floor. The dwarf looks ready to fight, but the tremor in her jaw betrays her fear. Merrin is still peering through the window, her crossbow held at the ready, but there’s no sign of the calm recklessness that usually defines her.
We need to move now before whatever's upstairs decides we're its next meal.