Round 6

As the trap mechanism clicked into place, Silra stood slowly, dusting her hands off with a grim satisfaction, her eyes flicking toward Gravedigger Renn still cowering against Sister Hale's protective form. The steam vent sputtered, sending a thin plume of hot vapor across the rope, but it remained intact, a fragile lifeline between them and the chasm below.

Jeane yanked the rusted key free from its hiding place, a triumphant smile spreading across her face as she wiped sweat and ash from her eyes. "That's one trap disabled," she said, her voice steady despite the tension in her shoulders. The molten rock retreated like a tide of liquid fire, its roar receding into the distance.

Sister Hale pushed Renn away from her chest, not unkindly, and stepped toward Silra with a newfound authority, her eyes locked on the elf rogue's face. "Stop," she said, her voice stripped of piety and clothed in survival alone, a sense of determination washing over her like a shroud. The steam stung her eyes, but she didn't back down, her gaze never wavering as she confronted Silra.