Round 4

As Silra stepped fully into the church doorway, her silver-blonde hair catching the flickering torchlight, the tension on the ash-choked road outside Gravehill seemed to tighten for a beat. The city guard's approach had brought everyone to a standstill, their next move carefully chosen to avoid provocation. Jeane's impatience grew with each passing moment, her crimson eyes scanning the darkness within the church as if searching for hidden secrets.

Sister Hale stepped back from the doorway, her hand instinctively reaching for the silver holy symbol at her neck, her voice low and firm. "Wait," she said, turning to face Jeane and Silra. "We don't know what's down there – what Renn claims is 'the Devouring' might be literal." She met Silra's eyes, her expression a mix of concern and caution. The key in her pocket felt like a burden, a reminder of the dead magistrate whose authority they were stealing.

Jeane stepped forward from the shadows, her eyes gleaming with barely contained impatience. "Sister Hale, your concern for our safety is... touching," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She glanced back into the church depths, where darkness swallowed everything past ten feet. The air inside was heavy with the scent of age and decay, the weight of centuries past bearing down upon them like a physical force.