Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits.
Injuries
Gabe didn’t need to be told twice. The rumbling beneath their feet was enough to tell him that whatever they had triggered was serious, and it wasn’t going to end well if they stuck around to find out what it was. He quickly stuffed the box into Mariam’s pack, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment as he secured it.

Right. Let’s move! he said, urgency in his voice as he glanced around the chamber. He could see the grooves in the floor now, the subtle shift in the dirt as whatever ancient mechanism they had disturbed began to activate. Gabe wasn’t entirely sure what was about to happen, but he knew it wouldn’t be good.

He took off running, his boots pounding against the stone floor as he led the way back towards the entrance. The air was thick with the scent of dust and decay, and the faint glow of their torches flickered as the tremors intensified. Gabe’s mind raced as he tried to anticipate the next trap, the next obstacle that would try to prevent their escape.

Behind him, he could hear Mariam’s footsteps, her breathing steady despite the rising tension. He spared a quick glance back at her, a small part of him marveling at how she could remain so composed in the face of danger. But then, that was Mariam—brave, capable, and unflinchingly loyal.

Stay close! Gabe called over his shoulder, his voice carrying over the growing roar of the ancient mechanisms. He could see the entrance now, the faint light of the outside world filtering through the doorway. They were so close.

But as they neared the exit, a deep, grinding sound echoed through the chamber, and Gabe’s heart sank. From the walls on either side of the doorway, massive stone slabs began to slide out, slowly but surely closing off their only escape route.

Shit! Gabe cursed under his breath, pushing himself to run faster. He knew they wouldn’t make it in time unless he did something. Keep going, Mariam! I’ll try to hold it open!

He skidded to a halt just short of the closing slabs, turning to face the rapidly shrinking gap. Gabe’s hands shot out, his fingers splayed as he summoned every ounce of magical energy he had left. A shimmering, translucent barrier formed between the slabs, halting their progress for the briefest of moments.

Go! he shouted, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining the barrier. He could feel the immense pressure of the slabs pressing against his magic, his strength waning with each passing second.

@Mariam DeTyne


Messages In This Thread
RE: Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits. - by Gabriel Poulin - 03-25-2024, 02:00 PM
RE: Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits. - by Gabriel Poulin - 04-07-2024, 02:04 PM
RE: Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits. - by Gabriel Poulin - 04-29-2024, 03:31 PM
RE: Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits. - by Gabriel Poulin - 05-12-2024, 07:56 AM
RE: Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits. - by Gabriel Poulin - 06-13-2024, 06:26 AM
RE: Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits. - by Gabriel Poulin - 06-18-2024, 11:27 AM
RE: Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits. - by Gabriel Poulin - 07-29-2024, 08:04 PM
RE: Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits. - by Gabriel Poulin - 08-21-2024, 07:37 AM