Round 1 Transcript

The ash‑laden road curves into a narrow clearing where a half‑sunk stone archway stands, the ruined façade of the old Gravehill church still visible in the gloom. A single lantern flickers on a cracked table, casting long shadows over scattered parchment and a rusted key that glints faintly. The air tastes of damp earth and distant thunder. Here, Jeane, Silra, and Sister Hale have gathered at the behest of the village elder, who believes that rebuilding the church could rally the scattered townsfolk against the looming threat of the city guard and the unseen menace beneath the streets. The elder proposes a pact: restore the sanctuary, use its sanctity to attract followers for a new faith, and secure the village’s future. Success means a fortified community; failure leaves them exposed to the guards’ patrols and the old traps that still lurk in the ruins. What are the party’s thoughts on this plan?

Jeane Cromwell studies the map with cold precision. A sex cult? How… quaint. Success metrics are clear enough—accrue followers, build a fortified stronghold—but I have my own definition of 'faithful'. The rust on that key tells me the magistrate who once held it was not a peaceful man; I sense dark workings in these ruins. What did this church actually worship before it fell? And what price does the village elder expect us to pay for her protection?

Silra traces the edge of the rusty key with a gloved finger. A sex cult to rebuild a church? That's what passes for strategy these days—swapping one form of exploitation for another. She glances at Jeane. I appreciate the direct question, because the elder isn't asking us to build a community; she's asking us to create an asset that can be taxed or controlled once it's functional. The real question is: what are we actually signing up for here? If this forgotten church has a patron deity still interested in its restoration, then fine—I'm a rogue, not a theologian, but I know a cursed building when I see one. And if the guards are our immediate threat, that's tactical information worth having. But if we're dancing on the edge of something older and sharper than local politics, I want to know what kind of demon we'd be summoning by hammering these stones back into place.

Sister Hale sits with her hands clasped, the unholy symbol of her faith visible on her breast. A church must be a sanctuary first and foremost—a refuge from violence, not a tool to wield it. The elder speaks of followers as 'assets,' which troubles me deeply; what kind of faith are we building if it's measured by coin or compliance rather than virtue? She looks at each companion in turn. I will not participate in a venture that trades one form of exploitation for another, even if the goal is survival. But I am also sworn to protect the innocent from harm. If the city guard truly poses an immediate threat to this village, then yes—I can be part of defending it with purpose. However, I draw the line at constructing a brothel disguised as a church for anyone's convenience, including the elder's political maneuvering.