Round 4 Transcript

The tension in The ash-choked road outside the ruined city of Gravehill tightens for a beat as the interruption refuses to go away. Everyone is forced to stay quiet and choose their next move carefully.

Silra steps into the church doorway fully now, her posture casual but every nerve alert. The stone frame is cold under her palm—cold and steady in a way that living things aren't. Behind her, she can hear Jeane getting impatient, already talking about tunnels and treasures like this is just another adventure instead of walking into a half-buried city that's probably cursed.

I turn back toward Jeane and Silra, my voice low but firm. Wait. We don't know what's down there—what Renn claims is 'the Devouring' might be literal. I've seen enough battlefields to recognize a man who's run from something that eats people.*

The key in my pocket feels less like a tool now and more like a burden—a reminder of the dead magistrate whose authority we're stealing. If there are traps or... shifting passages, Silra is our expert, not me. I meet her eyes. But I won't send any of us into a death-trap just because Jeane's hungry for power. To the guards approaching outside: We're seeking shelter from the storm! This church has been abandoned for years—we mean no harm to Gravehill or its people!

Jeane steps forward from the shadows where she'd been listening, her eyes gleaming with barely contained impatience. Sister Hale, your concern for our safety is... touching. She says 'touching' like a snake might say 'lunch'. But that gravedigger's story has all the earmarks of a desperate man inventing excuses to explain why he can't help us properly. She glances back into the church depths, where darkness swallows everything past ten feet. Shifting tunnels? Burial chambers filled with treasure? Her smile is sharp enough to cut stone. That sounds less like 'danger' and more like 'opportunity.' The kind of ancient necropolis that might hold artifacts ripe for the taking—things that could fuel our rise here far better than any gold the magistrate left behind. She turns fully to Silra now, her gaze intense and commanding. And I don't need you to tell me what's down there—I need you to make it safe for us so we can take what's ours. Her hand gestures sharply toward the approaching guards. Let Sister Hale handle those simpletons outside. We have more important matters to attend to. Jeane's voice drops lower, carrying a dangerous edge that cuts through the stale church air. As for your expert status—you're our scout and thief precisely because you can navigate this kind of danger. I didn't drag us into a cursed city under storm clouds just to turn back at the first sign of inconvenience. The unholy symbol on her chest seems to pulse with dark energy as she continues. We are here to rebuild, yes—to start a cult, to grow our religion—but that requires resources. If there's an underground necropolis beneath this church, it's ours by right of conquest and sorcery. She steps closer to Silra, her presence commanding despite the shadows that writhe around her feet like dark snakes. So do your job: scout ahead, map the tunnels, find the treasures—and make sure nothing down there gets to eat us before we can eat it. Her tone makes it clear this isn't a suggestion—it's an order wrapped in thin velvet. We've come too far and endured too much to let fear of 'the Devouring' stop us now. Jeane's laugh is cold and sharp as ice. Let's show whatever's down there what happens when demons walk among the graves, shall we? [END_OF.Dialogue]