Round 6

As Gravedigger Renn spoke, his voice trembled with a mixture of fear and desperation, Sister Hale's copper coin questioning seemed to suffocate him, drawing out every last detail about the church's hidden dangers. Jeane watched her approach with a calculating gaze, her crimson eyes narrowing as she weighed the risks of pushing forward against the potential benefits of gathering more information. The rustling beneath their feet grew louder, a soft scratching sound that seemed to come from all directions at once, like the whispers of restless spirits.

Silra stood watchfully beside them, her silver-blonde hair catching the faint light of the lantern as she scanned the rooftops for any sign of movement. Her hand rested casually on the hilt of her dagger, a habitual gesture that betrayed her growing unease with each passing moment. The key Hale had found pulsed with heat, a subtle but unmistakable sign that it was more than just an ordinary artifact. As Silra glanced at Jeane, their eyes met in a silent understanding: they needed to get off this street before the danger caught up with them, and fast.