Round 111

The common room's fire crackled and spat, casting flickering shadows on the walls as the storm raged on outside, threatening to shatter the inn's roof at any moment. Gravedigger Renn's trembling voice faded into the distance, recounting his terrifying experience in the tunnel system, describing the entity as speaking to him in full sentences. Sister Hale watched him from across the room, her eyes narrowing slightly as she measured out a final pinch of chamomile into the pouch.

Outside, the storm intensified, and the air grew heavier with tension as Gravedigger Renn's fear seemed to seep into the very atmosphere. The cellar door loomed before them, dark and foreboding, its presence seeming to draw the light out of the room. Silra descended into the darkness, lantern held low to light her way, while Sister Hale's gaze remained fixed on the cellar door, her expression a mixture of concern and foreboding.

As Silra drew closer to the rune wall, the pulsing energy grew stronger, and she could feel the air around her charged with an otherworldly power. The vibrations intensified, and Silra stumbled backward, almost losing her balance. The runes on the wall began to flash in a frantic sequence, casting eerie shadows on the walls of the cellar. Gravedigger Renn's voice cut through the din, his words laced with fear as he described the entity's response to Silra's attempt to connect with it.

The cellar air went wrong, not just dusty and rotten, but something that made her teeth ache. The pulse wasn't slowing down because it was stabilizing; it was building toward something. Those runes on the wall were no longer pulsing, but flashing in a frantic code that didn't look friendly. Sister Hale's eyes met Silra's across the room, her expression serious but controlled. "Whatever is buried under Gravehill responded directly to your presence downstairs," she said, her voice measured and cautious.