Round 107 Transcript

The ground shudders violently, and the runes on the wall pulse with an otherworldly energy as Gravedigger Renn's terror-smell intensifies. His eyes dart towards the cellar door, and he takes a deep breath, his voice shaking but resolute. "I didn't lead pursuit," he says. "But I did see something. A... a figure. It was tall, with skin like stone and eyes that burned like embers. It spoke to me in full sentences, telling me we're not worthy of anything."

The air in the common room grows thick with tension as Renn's words hang in the balance. The ground continues to rumble ominously, and the runes on the wall pulse faster, as if responding to Gravedigger Renn's revelation.

I lean back from Gravedigger Renn, my teal eyes sharp and calculating. 'Not worthy,' eh? Well—my voice drips with sarcasm—that clears up absolutely nothing while simultaneously making everything worse.

First: if this thing is feeding off terror-smell like I suspect, then Renn's current state is probably broadcasting our location to whatever's under Gravehill. And now that we know it can speak in full sentences and has a standard rejection line ready... I glance at the pulsing runes on the wall. That suggests structure and possibly even boredom—something ancient enough that it's developed patterns rather than just mindless hunger.

Second: intelligent entities with judgment criteria are usually more dangerous than random monsters because they can make deliberate choices about which victims to pursue. If we're 'not worthy' of something specific—my fingers tap the bar rhythmically—then we need to know what that something is before whatever's down there decides our worthiness needs... reevaluation. Gold? Souls? Territory? Or just whether we make decent snacks? The ground groans again, and I don't flinch—but my rogue senses are screaming warnings.

Third: Sister Hale wants to try ritual offerings and careful approaches. While her faith gives her that kind of optimism—I shoot her a look that says 'bless your heart' mixed with 'you're probably wrong but at least you're thinking tactically'—that approach only works if the entity in question has terms worth negotiating. And 'not worthy' suggests it's already made a judgment call without even meeting us properly. My hand tightens around the rusted key absently. Usually, when ancient things dismiss potential victims before actually meeting them, that means they've got something better to snack on nearby—or they're just saving time by weeding out the weak targets first.*

So here's what I think: whatever is buried down there isn't mindlessly hungry—it's deliberate and possibly even territorial. If it spoke to Renn in full sentences, then it wants us to know its rejection specifically so we leave voluntarily rather than making a mess that might attract more attention. I stand slowly, my eyes never leaving the pulsing runes. Or—and this is the part where my gut twists with that cold certainty rogues get—perhaps Renn wasn't supposed to make it back up here at all. Maybe he was just meant to wander those tunnels until whatever's down there finished feeding off his fear-smell, and his return is... inconvenient for our purposes. The ground shudders again, longer this time.

Which means we have two options that I can see: One: we take Sister Hale's approach—prepare a ritual offering that acknowledges its presence without feeding panic-smell, gather supplies quickly, then be ready to run the moment Silra returns with intel about pursuit. That gives us structure and potential for calculated action instead of blind running. The downside is obvious: if this thing decides our presence is active threat rather than passive annoyance, ritual offerings won't matter worth shit.

Or Two: I can sneak downstairs right now—quietly, carefully—and investigate those runes directly while they're still pulsing with energy. Maybe whatever's buried down there isn't actually awake yet—not fully. Maybe Renn interrupted something mid-process and got lucky enough to bolt before it finished deciding what to do with him. If that's the case, I might be able to gather actual intelligence instead of just terrified reports: test the runes' response to proximity, see if there are specific pressure points or triggers, maybe even figure out exactly what 'worthiness' means in practice. My hand drifts to the dagger at my hip. Rogues aren't built for charging into certain death—we're built for gathering information and exploiting weaknesses that others miss because they're too busy swinging swords at things.*

I meet both their eyes in turn, my voice cool and precise. So here's what I propose: while Sister Hale prepares her ritual space and gathers supplies just in case—and bless her heart for thinking tactically even if I think she's probably wrong—I glance at the cellar door—I go downstairs for a quick reconnaissance. Not to fight anything, not to make offerings, just to observe those runes up close and see if they respond differently to someone who's approaching with curiosity rather than terror-smell. If they pulse faster or change pattern when I'm near them but before I actually touch them, that tells us something useful—this thing can sense presence even if it hasn't fully awakened yet. Then we know exactly how much time we have before whatever's buried down there decides to investigate upstairs personally.

And if they don't respond at all—or if they respond in a way that suggests Renn encountered something already awake and just barely escaped... I shrug nonchalantly, though my teal eyes stay sharp. Then at least we know for certain this thing is active and probably already aware of us. That changes our timeline from 'maybe we have time for rituals' to 'we need to move now before it decides to investigate personally.' Either way, knowledge is power—even ugly, terrifying knowledge that suggests we're dealing with something ancient, territorial, and possibly already halfway through deciding we're not worth the effort. The ground groans again, longer this time. I don't let my expression show alarm—I need to maintain calm as an example. So what do you both think? Should I go downstairs now for a quick look while we still have time, or should we all focus on preparations and wait for Silra's return with pursuit intel before making any moves? My hand is already on the dagger hilt, ready to move if they agree—but waiting for their decision. Rogues don't act unilaterally unless absolutely necessary.

You're right—I won't dismiss his fear as imagined. Something ancient and powerful is definitely under Gravehill now, awakened by Renn's terror-smell. I kneel beside him again, my voice gentle but firm. Brother, you had courage going back down there alone—even if what you found terrified you. My hand hovers near his shoulder, not quite touching because his fear-smell is almost physical now.

But we need details: when exactly did this thing speak to you? Was it just voices or did you see something physical in those tunnels? The ground groans again under us as if emphasizing the urgency of his answer. Because if whatever's buried down there can speak with such deliberate judgment—I glance at Silra by the bar, then back to Renn—that suggests intelligence we need to understand. Mindless horror doesn't hold dialogues about worthiness.

Most importantly: did anything follow you back up here through those tunnels? If pursuit is coming, we have seconds to act instead of minutes to die wondering. Because if this thing has already decided we're not 'worthy'—I struggle with the word—then understanding what kind of worthiness it's measuring matters. Gold? Souls? Territory? Or just whether we make decent snacks? My grip tightens on my holy symbol unconsciously.*

Silra wants to investigate those runes directly while they're still pulsing with energy—I consider her suggestion carefully—that could give us actual intelligence instead of just terrified reports. If whatever's buried down there isn't fully awake yet—not actively pursuing us but just... aware and testing boundaries—then close observation might reveal pressure points or triggers we can exploit. My mind races through tactical possibilities. And rogues are built for exactly that kind of reconnaissance: gathering information others miss because they're too busy swinging swords at things.*

But—I meet her teal eyes directly—if those runes respond aggressively to proximity, if they pulse faster or change pattern when you approach, then we need to know immediately. Because that suggests whatever's buried down there can sense presence even if it hasn't fully awakened yet. If Silra goes downstairs and the runes light up brighter or start moving—I stand slowly—that tells us exactly how much time we have before whatever's under Gravehill decides to investigate upstairs personally. We need a signal: something that brings her back immediately if those runes change behavior dramatically. A certain number of heartbeats? A specific sound pattern? The ground shudders again, and dust sifts from the ceiling beams. Because if she finds herself suddenly pursued while alone in tunnels—my voice hardens slightly—then seconds count.

And while you're downstairs investigating, I'll prepare a ritual space here that acknowledges ancient power without feeding panic-smell. Mugwort, chamomile, silver dust—I have enough for something small but meaningful. My fingers trace the outline of my holy symbol absently. Something that says 'we recognize your presence' without saying 'come and get us.' That way, if Silra returns with pursuit intel or if those runes change dramatically downstairs—I look at both of them in turn—then we can decide based on real information instead of just fear. Either abandon the ritual immediately for escape, or... I hesitate. Or perhaps use that prepared space for a more structured offering if it seems like the wiser approach. The ground groans again, louder and longer than before. I don't let my expression show alarm—I need to maintain calm as an example. So here's what I propose: Silra goes downstairs now for quick reconnaissance—not combat exploration, just observe those runes up close while they're still pulsing with energy. If they respond aggressively to proximity, she returns immediately. If they don't change significantly or only pulse faster but not more violently, then she stays down there gathering information for no more than three minutes before returning. Meanwhile, I prepare the ritual space here and gather supplies in case we need to move quickly. When you both return—I meet their eyes directly—we decide based on actual intelligence rather than just fear-smell.

This isn't blind optimism—I've seen enough to know whatever is under Gravehill is dangerous beyond measure. But intelligent danger responds differently than mindless threat. If this thing has criteria for judgment—if 'worthiness' matters to it—that suggests there might be terms we could potentially meet through careful ritual rather than just violence or flight. My hand tightens around the holy symbol. Or perhaps Silra's reconnaissance will show us that ritual approaches are pointless because whatever's down there is already fully awake and actively hostile.*

Either way, this gives us structure instead of blind panic. We're not rushing into action based on one terrified report—we're gathering information first, then making calculated decisions. The ground shudders again, and I force myself to stand completely still, not betraying the fear that wants me to run. So what do you both think? Should we proceed with this plan or reassess immediately? My voice stays steady despite the pressure building in the room. Because either way, we need to decide within moments.