Round 8

Under the storm-dark sky, Sister Hale stepped forward, her voice steady despite the wind as she addressed her companions. Her eyes met each face in turn, her gaze unwavering as she spoke of their purpose. She had come to Gravehill not merely to survive or settle, but to rebuild the abandoned church and start anew. The city's ruins stretched out before them, a desolate landscape of ash and decay, yet Sister Hale's determination remained unshaken.

As they continued on the cracked road, Silra carefully lifted the stone, her dagger glinting in the faint light. A faint tremor echoed through the nearby watchtower, revealing a hidden spike that had been concealed beneath the ash. The sorceress's eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking to Jeane as she spoke of their need for caution. Sister Hale marked an irregular patch in the road's surface, her eyes locked onto the spot where Silra had lifted the stone.

The weight of their mission hung heavy on Sister Hale's weary shoulders, yet she pressed on, driven by a sense of duty and compassion that had hardened her face over time.