Round 7

As Silra crouched low near the entrance of the crumbling church, her fingers tracing the disturbed ash patterns on the ground, Sister Hale's voice cut through the stormy night air, urging caution. "Enough fear, Renn—it serves no purpose here." The cleric's words were laced with a mix of concern and resolve as she stood slowly, her robes heavy with ash, and faced Silra's discovery of the fresh tracks disguised as old ones.

Silra's gaze darted between Jeane's stalking form and Hale's anxious kneeling, her expression tense with anxiety about hidden dangers in Gravehill. "If we're walking into a trap, I'd rather spring it myself than stumble into it like gullible fools," she muttered, drawing a thin dagger from her belt with practiced ease. The steel caught what little moonlight pierced through the stormy night, casting an eerie glow on the scene.

As the trio stood at the church entrance, the weight of their mission settled in – rebuild the abandoned church without drawing attention to themselves. The air was heavy with the promise of danger and uncertainty, and Sister Hale's stomach tightened with unease as she gazed at Gravedigger Renn, huddled in fear beside her.