Round 92

The cleric's steady hands moved with practiced precision, each knot pulled tight as she secured the bridge with a makeshift pulley system. Seventeen patterns of tactical precision guided her work, a testament to Jeane's arcane sight that had illuminated the precarious situation. As the sorceress began her crossing, Sister Hale watched with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, concern etched into her features.

Jeane's crimson eyes gleamed with an air of calculated caution as she stepped onto the bridge, her hand still on the belt where the unholy symbol burned against her palm. The cleric's gaze lingered on the rusted key in Jeane's palm, its intensity burning hotter as she spoke. Sister Hale's expression turned thoughtful, weighing the risks against the potential benefits of using the key as misdirection.

"I'll create a system to hold us back," Sister Hale said firmly, her eyes locked on Jeane, "you go first." The cleric's voice was laced with respect and caution, tempered by years of duty and experience. As she turned to face Jeane directly, the flickering lantern's erratic flame cast eerie shadows on her weary features, illuminated only by the faint glow of divine energy emanating from the silver holy symbol at her chest.