Round 1

[Narrator | Narrator]
The room is a collapsed stone hall in the ruins of Gravehill, its vaulted ceiling shattered by centuries of neglect. A single lantern flickers on a broken table, casting long shadows over a rough‑cut map of the city’s old streets and a crude diagram of the church’s foundation. The air smells of ash and damp earth, and distant thunder rumbles through the cracked walls. Jeane, Silra, and Sister Hale sit around the table, each clutching a piece of parchment or the rusted key found in the magistrate’s coffin. Gravedigger Renn hovers at the doorway, eyes darting between the trio and the storm outside.

The proposition laid before them is simple yet perilous: rebuild the abandoned church, establish a new faith, and gather followers before city guards and hidden traps claim the effort. Success means a sanctuary for the faithful and a foothold in the city’s power structure; failure leaves them vulnerable to the guard patrols and whatever lies beneath the streets. The choice to commit, refuse, or negotiate terms is theirs now.

[Jeane | Sorcerer]
Jeane traces a finger along the map’s creases, her dark eyes scanning every detail. This proposition reeks of risk and potential gain—my preferred cocktail. But I need guarantees. What exactly constitutes “success”? Is it simply erecting the church’s frame or ensuring the first… “services” draw an adequate congregation? Because my powers require not just structure but worshippers, and their kind takes time to corrupt properly.

[Silra | Rogue]
Silra leans back against the wall, her dagger already half-drawn and concealed. This is a fool's errand unless we clarify exactly who’s offering it and what they expect in return. Gravedigger Renn looks jumpy enough to spook a rat—so let’s start by asking him why his hands are cleaner than the rest of him. Because if we’re dancing with demons, I’d rather know their face before agreeing to be their footstool.

[Sister Hale | Cleric]
I look up from the map, my hand resting on the unholy symbol at my chest. I don’t deal in guarantees, especially not when they smell of sacrilege and exploitation. We’re being asked to rebuild a house of God for… what? Power? Influence? To “grow our religion”? That’s blasphemy before it’s business. I fix Jeane with a stern glare. Success isn’t measured in corrupted worshippers, it’s measured in genuine faith and service to those who need it most—people like Gravedigger there, clearly terrified and desperate for help.