Round 3

As Sister Hale stepped forward, her slender form cutting through the darkness like a blade, Jeane's eyes narrowed, her crimson gaze locking onto the rusted key in the young woman's hand. The air seemed to vibrate with tension as they faced off, the only sound the distant howling of the wind and the creaking of the tavern window frame. Renn's sunken eyes darted between Jeane and Sister Hale, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke of the ancient burial ground beneath the church, where the Burning Mother's presence still smoldered.

Jeane's thoughts were consumed by the key, its significance nagging at her like an itch she couldn't scratch. The dead magistrate's legacy, now in Sister Hale's possession – what did it mean? And why had this young woman, with her serene face and piercing teal eyes, inserted herself into Jeane's negotiations like a ghostly presence? Renn's words trailed off as he glanced nervously over his shoulder, his fear palpable despite the stormy darkness.