Round 3

As Jeane Cromwell stood tall, her crimson eyes burning with intensity, Gravedigger Renn's fear was palpable. The rusted key, heavy with implication, hung suspended in the air, a tangible reminder of Jeane's authority. Her voice cut through the storm's din, a cold, calculated rebuke that left no room for doubt: "Your fear is an insult." Silra watched from the periphery, her teal eyes narrowed as she assessed Gravedigger Renn's terror with a mix of concern and wariness. The old man's fear was not just a product of superstition; it seemed to be rooted in something more primal, something that stirred Silra's own cautious instincts.