Round 1

[Narrator | Narrator]
The Narrator lets the room settle and lays out the immediate proposition in concrete terms, making clear that the cast must answer what is being asked of them before anything can move forward.

[Jeane | Sorcerer]
Jeane leans back in her chair, fingers tracing the unholy symbol at her throat. A sex cult? That's what we're reduced to now? Building a church on the bones of an old city while we fuck for power? She laughs sharp and cold. At least it's honest work. The key opens something here, you say? Good—let's find out who owned it before he died screaming in that crypt. If we're going to play whores for the devil, let's at least do it with style.

[Silra | Rogue]
Silra eyes the key on the table like it's a venomous spider. A dead magistrate's key? So we're not just building a church—we're trespassing in his cellar while the city guard still remembers his name. She taps her dagger hilt twice. And who guarantees this Gravedigger Renn isn't leading us into an ambush so he can sell us to whatever passes for authorities here? You mentioned a 'contract.' Show me the terms before we sign our necks. I want to know what happens if the city guard catches us, and more importantly, what happens to us if we succeed.

[Sister Hale | Cleric]
I look from Jeane's cold amusement to Silra's practical suspicion, feeling a weariness settle into my bones. A sex cult is not the path of righteousness I was taught. But then again, neither is rebuilding on a graveyard. I pick up the key, turning it over in my hands. If this is our only lead and we're truly meant to do good here—truly meant to help these people—then we must be cautious about how we go about it.