Round 6

In the depths of Gravehill's abandoned church, where shadows danced like restless spirits, a faint hum echoed through the air, a reminder that something stirred beneath their feet. The stormy sky above seemed to mirror the turmoil within, its dark clouds a fitting backdrop for the group's precarious situation.

The cleric, Sister Hale, stood firm, her eyes locked on the shifting floorboards as if willing them to remain still. Her voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding: "Stop it!" The holy symbol pressed against the stone, channeling consecrated power to calm the ancient mechanism. The air held its breath as the movement halted, leaving only a faint hum of stirred earth and the weight of forgotten prayers.

Jeane's symbol pulsed with increasing urgency, her crimson eyes fixed on Sister Hale as she clutched her hammer's haft. Silra crouched beside the floorboards, tracing faint cracks in the mortar with an elf's practiced gaze. The elf's fingers moved with a quiet intensity, her teal eyes narrowed against the dim light.