Round 11 Transcript

Jeane’s fingers move with practiced precision as she casts Suggestion, her voice taking on that subtle, commanding quality. "Officers. I am here by direct order of the Archdiocese to oversee this church's restoration." A shimmering image forms in midair—a forged letter with the unmistakable seal of authority. Her cold eyes remain fixed not on the guards at the entrance but on something deeper beneath their feet—something Gravedigger Renn had warned her about before they entered: hidden dangers that crawl in the dark places below. The spell-threads she weaves carry more than just compliance; they suggest to these men's simple minds that questioning her would be far more trouble than ignoring her—and that perhaps there are already greater evils within their own ranks worth investigating, rather than this trivial distraction of a dusty old church. The guards exchange glances, confusion evident in their faces as the spell takes hold.

Her fingers brush against the dusty surface of an old clay urn standing beside the altar. With a casual flick of her wrist, she sends it toppling with a loud clatter. \"Oh, clumsy hands...\" Her eyes track the officers' reactions—all four heads turn instinctively toward the sudden noise and breaking pottery. She notes which one’s hand moves toward his weapon hilt first, marking him as their leader by default. The momentary distraction buys another few seconds before they resume questioning; she can work with that.

She moves closer to Gravedigger Renn, her voice softening despite the tension in the air. "You're safe now," Sister Hale says, her tone a deliberate contrast to the hostility of the city guard. "We believe your words were true, and we won't let harm come to you." The church's restoration is meant to be a beacon of hope, not fear; she meets Renn's frightened eyes directly, offering what reassurance she can.