Round 10

The storm raged on, its fury intensifying as the City Guard's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. The captain's expression was a mixture of suspicion and wariness, his eyes darting towards Sister Hale's symbol as it pulsed with dark energy. Jeane stood firm, her crimson eyes gleaming with determination, and let her unholy symbol pulse once more – this time with enough force that the air crackled like ozone before a storm. The light from its depths shifted to deepest violet, drinking in the ambient light instead of reflecting it.

Sister Hale stepped forward, her own symbol held out between herself and the captain as a clear show of non-aggression. "You've got five minutes to reconsider this 'persuasion' plan," she said, her voice level but carrying through the confined space with authority that made the guards shift uncomfortably. The younger guard returned, his face flushed from running up the street, and whispered something in the captain's ear – a mixture of fear and curiosity evident on his face.

Meanwhile, Silra emerged from below, rope in hand, dust coating her leathers and face. "Five minutes?" she said quietly to Sister Hale, eyes flicking between the guards. "That's either generous or stupid." The older guard's expression darkened at this information, his sword sliding another inch from its sheath. "You've already provoked it once then?" he growled, his voice low and menacing.