Round 124

In the market district outside Gravehill, the storm-dark sky seemed to press in on Silra and Sister Hale, their lantern casting flickering shadows across deserted streets. The air was heavy with tension as they waited for a decision, the only sound the distant rumble of thunder and the soft patter of rain starting to fall. Gravedigger Renn's terror-smell still clung to him, his body trembling as he collapsed against the wall, his legs giving out beneath him.

Sister Hale's eyes were fixed intently on the glowing runes below, her gaze darting between the pulsating points and the cellar doorway, where something ancient and wrong had been unleashed. The elf rogue Silra scanned the streets for side alleys or abandoned buildings, her cool self-possessed posture a stark contrast to Gravedigger Renn's evident terror. "We need to move off these main avenues," she said firmly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rain starting to fall.

As they stood there, the ground beneath them began to shudder, the vibrations growing stronger with each passing moment. The runes on the wall pulsed in sync with those glowing points downstairs, a deliberate communication that seemed to be drawing them in. Silra's gaze lingered on Sister Hale, her eyes searching for reassurance, before snapping back to Gravedigger Renn, who was still trembling against the wall.