Round 60

As Silra shifted her weight, the pressure plate beneath her stabilized with a soft click, its rhythmic pulse—THRUM-THRUM-THUD—echoing through the tunnel system like a countdown to awakening. Sister Hale crouched beside her, eyes fixed on the plates as she too adjusted her stance fractionally, her silver holy symbol casting an eerie glow on the walls. The air was heavy with the stench of terror-smell, Gravedigger Renn's panic-fueled convulsions still radiating from the tunnel entrance like a dark stain.

Sister Hale's hands fluttered over the holy symbol as she sought to soothe Gravedigger Renn's distress, but her own eyes were locked on the pressure plates, her expression a mask of caution and concern. The runes on the sarcophagi shrieked louder with every vibration, their ominous pulse beating in time with the ground's rhythmic tremors—THRUM-THRUM-THUD—a countdown to something ancient and wrong being fully awakened by their presence.