Round 22

The tunnel's bioluminescent walls flickered and dimmed once more as the captain's urgent shout echoed through the air. The ground trembled in three-pulse rhythm beneath their feet, a deliberate drumbeat that seemed to grow colder with each passing moment. A section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow crevice that stretched into darkness, its musky salt smell mingling with the scent of damp earth. Gravedigger Renn's eyes darted nervously between Jeane and Sister Hale as he pleaded, "P-please, follow me! I'll show you the way down there!" His voice trembled, and his shoulders hunched in a mixture of desperation and fear.

Jeane studied the opening with a practiced eye, weighing her options rapidly. The narrow crevice stretched into darkness, its air thick with the musky scent of salt and damp earth. She considered pushing forward through the passage, maintaining non-aggression signals while staying ready for immediate violence. Alternatively, she could pull back under city guard observation, losing their cover completely. Or, she could refuse to follow an informant they barely trusted into unknown subterranean territory. The three-pulse rhythm beneath their feet provided a steady heartbeat, but Jeane's crimson eyes narrowed as she pondered the risks.

Sister Hale took a cautious step forward, her hand instinctively moving to the silver holy symbol at her breast. The three-pulse rhythm continued beneath their feet, its steady cadence a deliberate challenge from whatever lurked in the depths below. She studied Gravedigger Renn's desperate posture, his shoulders hunched and eyes darting nervously between them. His fear was palpable, and Sister Hale's compassionate face hardened by duty softened with concern. She hesitated, unsure if they should trust this frightened informant or not.