Round 110

As Sister Hale's hands paused mid-motion, measuring out a final pinch of chamomile into the pouch, her eyes locked onto the cellar door, now dark and foreboding. The sound of Gravedigger Renn's trembling voice faded further into the distance as Silra descended into the darkness, lantern held low to light her way. Outside, the storm raged on, threatening to shatter the inn's roof at any moment.

Gravedigger Renn watched Sister Hale from across the room, his eyes darting between the herbs and the pulsing runes on the wall, his face pale with fear. The air in the common room grew heavier with tension as he recounted his terrifying experience in the tunnel system, describing the entity as speaking to him in full sentences.

Sister Hale's gaze remained fixed on the cellar door, her expression a mixture of concern and foreboding. She had frozen mid-motion, the pouch of silver dust half-opened in her hand, as she sensed something wrong with the vibration beneath their feet. The air seemed to grow colder, heavier, despite the storm raging outside.

Silra's descent into the cellar was slow and deliberate, her lantern casting eerie shadows on the walls as she scanned every inch of the space for threats that showed themselves first. The runes on the far wall pulsed with an energy that made her teeth ache, each beat a pressure wave pushing against her skin. It felt like something massive was shifting below them, taking inventory of its domain.