Round 6

As Sister Hale knelt beside Silra, the rhythmic thrumming from below seemed to vibrate through the stones beneath them—a steady pulse that spoke of something ancient and purposeful. "We cannot ignore this," she said firmly, "but neither can we rush blindly into whatever lies beneath Gravehill." Jeane descended the crumbling stone steps into the sewer system with grim determination, her pale skin glowing faintly in the lantern light. The air was thick with the stench of decay and something older—something foul that coiled in the darkness like a waking serpent. Silra pressed her ear against the cracked stone floor, her silver-blonde hair framing teal eyes scanning the shadows below with suspicion.