Round 10 Transcript

Jeane Cromwell approaches Gravedigger Renn with a predatory grace, her black eyes missing nothing—his trembling hands, the sweat beading on his forehead despite the chill air. You've done well to guide us here, little man. Her voice is smooth as poisoned honey. But your usefulness is at its end. She draws a sigil in the ash with the toe of her boot—a binding rune ancient and obscene. Choose now: swear fealty to me and my purpose in this city, or I leave you here to whatever ghosts haunt Gravehill. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. Your fear stinks worse than the corpses you dig from—put it to better use by serving a power greater than your own pathetic existence. She extends a hand holding the unholy symbol, its surface pulsing with dark energy. Kneel before me and swear allegiance, or crawl back to whatever pit you scuttled out of. The storm approaches, and I have no patience for cowardice that serves no purpose.

Silra crouches in the ash-choked road, her keen eyes scanning the ruined city of Gravehill as much as they're fixed on Jeane Cromwell's predatory approach to their terrified informant. I'm going to ask this once more, you miserable little man, because my patience has run thinner than your neck would make for a proper hanging. She draws her dagger with a smooth, silent motion, holding it low and casual—an extension of the question rather than a threat.

What are you so terrified of underneath the streets? Because that kind of fear isn't natural, and I've seen enough graves to know the difference between a man who's afraid of dying and one who's afraid of something already dead. Her gaze shifts sharply to Jeane. And you—her tone flattens into warning—if you're about to make this situation worse with unnecessary violence or grand pronouncements, I suggest you reconsider. Our goal is the church, not a corpse in the ash. She moves closer to Gravedigger Renn, her voice dropping to something almost conversational. You found us a good location for our little project. You kept your word so far. Now tell me what you saw down there that made you shake like a frightened child, because whatever's moving beneath this city might be relevant to our interests as well. She offers her free hand to him—a gesture of peace or perhaps just something to hold onto if he flees. Talk fast and talk true. I've got a blade out, but it's not for you unless the story requires it.