Round 45

As the darkness seemed to coalesce around them, the stone-woman's gaze locked onto Sister Hale with an intensity that made the cleric's symbol pulse in response. The air vibrated with tension, and Silra's hand tightened on the hilt of her mace, though she remained standing between the two women. "You seek to rebuild the abandoned church," the stone-woman repeated, her voice low and husky, like the rumble of thunder. "But first, you must face the heart of Gravehill." The creature's expression remained unreadable, a mask that seemed as unyielding as the stone from which she was crafted.

Sister Hale took a step forward, her eyes never leaving the stone-woman's face, and Silra followed closely behind, her teal eyes scanning the walls for any sign of movement. "I can offer you a choice," the creature said, her voice dripping with an inner fire that seemed to sear the air around them. "Follow me into the depths beneath the streets, or face the city guard that patrols the ruins." The words hung in the air like a challenge, and Silra's gaze flicked to Hale, who stood firm despite the exhaustion etched on her face.

"I'll not be swayed by empty threats," Silra said, her voice cool and measured, though her hand remained tense on the hilt of her mace. "We didn't come here to play games with whatever's buried under this city." The stone-woman's gaze narrowed, but she did not respond, leaving Hale to speak up.