Round 1

As the trio ventured into Gravehill's abandoned church, the air thickened with foreboding. The sound of rusted hinges creaking echoed through the desolate landscape, sending a shiver down Jeane's spine. Her eyes flickered towards Silra and Sister Hale, their faces etched with concern, as she murmured, "Listen carefully now, both of you." Silra moved with calculated stealth, her fingers tracing the crumbling stone walls like an instrument waiting to be played. She mused aloud, "The hinges on that gate are rusted through but not broken; someone's been oiling them recently." Sister Hale stood watchfully between them, her lantern casting wavering shadows, as she whispered, "This place feels wrong." The rusty hinges groaned again, and Jeane's eyes locked onto the entrance, her hand instinctively reaching for the unholy symbol at her belt.