Round 3

As the rusty hinges creaked again, Sister Hale's eyes snapped open, her hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of her holy symbol. The air seemed to vibrate with an otherworldly energy, and she felt the weight of the darkness pressing in around them like a physical force. Jeane stepped forward into the gate's shadow, her sorcerer's robes whispering against ash as she drew power with a subtle gesture.

The sound of fingernails on stone grew louder, echoing from beneath the streets, and Sister Hale's gaze flickered to Silra, who stood frozen beside the tripwire, her fingers still touching the wire—a simple loop of rusted iron but strung with intent. Jeane moved toward Silra, her boots barely making a sound on the ash, as she held out her unholy symbol like a talisman. The air around them shifted, and Sister Hale's eyes flickered open once more, watching as Jeane's presence seemed to draw the darkness closer.

Silra remained still, her teal eyes fixed on the spot where the wire had triggered, her fingers still tracing the metal. "We need to see what we're dealing with," Sister Hale said softly, her voice steady despite the growing unease in her heart. "Jeane, light the area around this gate."