Round 85

As Sister Hale stepped forward, the lantern in her inventory flickered violently, casting eerie shadows on the ground. "We test the bridge together," she called out, her voice firm amidst the growing din. Gravedigger Renn watched warily as Sister Hale approached the bridge's edge, her eyes fixed on the cleric's steady gaze. The ash-choked road stretched out before them, a seemingly endless expanse of desolation beneath the narrow bridge spanning the chasm behind.

Jeane swiftly cut off Sister Hale's heroic march toward certain death, her voice low and measured as she assessed the situation. "Seventeen patterns of tactical precision orchestrating this containment—the timing is surgical, not desperate," she said, her hand tightening on the rope as it went taut once more from below. Whatever pursued tracks Silra's movements with predator-like efficiency, and Jeane's crimson eyes scanned the bridge structure, every creak telling a story that only she could decipher. With a practiced eye, she weighed the risks of forward momentum against their own timeline, her mind racing with the implications of each possible move.