Round 97

As Sister Hale's vision cleared, she sat up with a wince, her gaze unfocused for a moment before taking stock of the rocky ground beneath her. Jeane turned back to her, concern and annoyance mingling on her face as she replied, "You're fine, just take a minute to collect yourself." The bridge creaked ominously, its wooden slats groaning in protest, and Sister Hale's eyes snapped towards the sound, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her mace. She peered into the shadows beneath the bridge, her eyes straining to catch any sign of movement. "Jeane," she called upstream, voice steady despite the racing heart that threatened to betray her fear.

The air was thick with ash, reducing visibility to mere feet, but Sister Hale's trained senses picked up on the deliberate sound – something was crawling down there, and it was heading straight for them. She rose slowly to her feet, her silver holy symbol glinting in the dim light, as the ground beneath the bridge continued to rumble ominously. The creature on the bridge stirred, its claws scrabbling against the metal, and Sister Hale's grip on her mace tightened, ready to face whatever horrors lay ahead.