Round 4 Transcript

I moved through the swirling ash toward the collapsed building's edge, my habit snapping in the wind. The unholy symbol felt warm against my palm—warm with dread, maybe. "Wait," I called out to Silra, her lithe form crouched at the brink like a cat ready to pounce into danger. "That thrumming... it's getting stronger." And there was something else now—a low rumble beneath the rhythm, like grinding gears or claws on stone. My skin crawled. "Jeane!" I turned to face her silhouette against the storm-dark sky. "We need to know what we're dealing with before we go stumbling into those ruins. That Gravedigger might have been a fool, but he was terrified of something specific." I took a step toward her, squinting through the ash. "Let me try something."

I knelt and pressed my palm flat against the cracked street stone—felt that steady thrum vibrate up my arm—and closed my eyes. "By the dark gods," I murmured, invoking powers I wasn't entirely proud to wield but needed nonetheless. "Show me what walks beneath this city." My vision blurred with a rush of cold power. Then I saw it: not a vision properly, more like an echo left on the air—a massive shape moving through shadowed tunnels far below, something ancient and wrong and purposeful. It carried tools—chisel, hammer—and worked at something in the stone wall. Not alone either; others moved around it in a grotesque parody of workers. I yanked my hand back with a gasp, breaking the connection. "There's... there's something down there. A creature, or creatures. And they're digging—purposefully." I looked at Jeane and Silra, my face grim. "Renn wasn't imagining things. Whatever it is, it's real. And now we know it's not alone."

I stood fully then, brushing ash from my knees, and reached under my habit to draw the rusted key from the dead magistrate—the one that supposedly unlocked something in the old city records office. "We need information before we go any deeper." I held up the key. "Renn said the truth was in the archives. If we're lucky, there might be maps down there—old blueprints of the sewer system or catacombs beneath Gravehill."

I met Jeane's eyes directly, my voice steady despite the fear coiling cold in my gut. "We go into that records office. Now. While it's still daylight above ground." I gestured to the collapsed building entrance with its ominous thrumming below. "Whatever's down there... let's not give it a reason to come up here unless we have to."

This wasn't cowardice—this was survival. Sometimes retreat is the wisest move, and gathering intelligence before charging into darkness feels like the morally responsible choice when you're dealing with something that might eat you. The wind howled agreement or defiance as I waited for their response—a challenge offered in the hope of a smarter fight later.

Silra crouched at the edge of the collapsed building, tracing cracks in the stone with a gloved finger. The thrumming under our feet—that's not wind. That's something working metal or bone down there. She glanced back at Jeane and Sister Hale, her eyes sharp. Renn was either a genius liar or he saw exactly what we're about to see. And I have no intention of becoming whatever it is he was running from. Silra pulled out the rusted key from her belt—the one she'd taken off the dead magistrate back in Gravehill. If there's a way down into those old sewers without tripping every trap the city guard set, this might open something. But before I go spelunking in monster juice— She paused, looking at each woman in turn with dry wit and suspicion.

—what exactly are we walking toward? Because if it's just more undead that need exorcising or some forgotten tax ledger, I'd rather spend my time elsewhere.

I descended the crumbling stone steps into the sewer system beneath Gravehill with grim determination, my sorcerous power crackling at my fingertips. The air was thick with the stench of decay and something older—something foul that coiled in the darkness like a waking serpent. Sister Hale's voice echoed behind me, thin with barely-concealed fear. "Jeane! This is madness! We should wait for daylight, for reinforcements!"

Silra moved past her with fluid grace, already scanning the shadows ahead. "Daylight won't save us if whatever's down here is hungry. We need to find it first."

The rhythmic thrumming grew louder as we descended, vibrating through the soles of my worn boots—a steady pulse like a monstrous heart beating beneath the city. I raised my unholy symbol, letting its dark power wash over me.

We're not here to fight skittering things in the dark, I said coldly. We're here to reclaim this city for our own purposes. That means facing whatever ancient horror Renn stumbled upon and breaking it. My eyes gleamed with malevolent purpose as I spoke. This is a test of wills—and mine is unbreakable. I stepped forward into the pooling darkness, my voice dripping with contempt. If you're too weak to follow, Sister, then pray your god offers more comfort than I can muster.