The Forest Guide backs toward the corridor mouth, one hand still half-raised to the seal. Cold air spills from the dark behind him, carrying a deep stone groan from the archives below.
Forest Guide
Dyria, leave this chamber. Go to Oakhaven, find help, before the seal fails harder.
The Cloaked Figure does not move from the brace. Violet sigils circle them in a watchful ring, steady but strained.
The Cloaked Figure
No. If I leave my post now, the line breaks. Go if you must, but I remain.
The Forest Guide turns back, jaw tight, then looks to Dyria as if hoping she will drag the answer from the air between them. The hidden seam below the floor gives a low, patient pulse.
Dyria
The seal is holding, but only just.
Echo of the First Warden
This is the choice the archives demand. Stay, and be bound to the watch. Leave, and trust the brace to endure a little longer.
The Forest Guide lowers his hand at last, torn between duty and fear, while the Cloaked Figure braces both palms against the rune-etched brace and keeps the chamber from slipping apart.
✓ Quest Accepted
Convince the Forest Guide to stay and face the danger
“I turn to the forest guide and look at him with a saddened smile and I ask that he leave me to stand by and watch so he can leave and recruit help from the other races to unite against the impending disaster”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled -2)
Dyria
Dyria turns toward the Forest Guide, her scorched hand held close, and asks him to leave her here and bring help from the other races.
Forest Guide
His breath catches. He looks from her face to the seam, then nods once. I will go. I will find them.
The words land hard. The chamber seems to tighten around the choice, violet light sliding over the rune-brace as if measuring what is being spent.
The Cloaked Figure
Good. Then the line holds longer than it should. Do not waste that mercy.
Echo of the First Warden
A pause. Then, quieter, the echo says, You choose the harder watch.
The Forest Guide steps back toward the corridor, drawing his cloak around him, but his eyes stay on Dyria until the dark swallows him.
Cold air curls from the seam, and the brace gives a faint, strained pulse beneath Dyria's palm. Somewhere beyond the archives, help is now in motion.
