Round 4 Transcript

Silra’s eyes flick to the guard’s hand, noting that his sword grip is uneven and his fingers tremble from the illusion’s strain, giving her a clear opening to act.

Jeane drops her illusion with a sharp gesture, voice cold and commanding. 'Sister Hale—check the road for traps. Silra, scout ahead to that crumbling watchtower; I want eyes on what moves in this city's streets.' Her gaze shifts to the guard, who remains disoriented from the fading heat-haze around her hands. She doesn't wait for agreement, already calculating distances and angles.

Sister Hale kneels to examine the road surface methodically, her fingers tracing the packed earth and stone with practiced precision. The ash makes visibility poor—she must feel for disturbances in texture, signs of recent manipulation or pressure plates hidden beneath the dust. She spots an irregular patch near the wheel ruts. "Here," she calls out, marking it with a small rock from her pocket.