Round 12

As they stepped into the nave, the guard captain's visor lifted, his eyes scanning the party with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion before nodding in approval at Jeane's letter. The air was thick with tension, but Gravedigger Renn stood transfixed under Jeane's subtle shield, the faint shimmer of energy wrapping around him like an unspoken promise.

Silra moved with deliberate slowness, her fingers tracing the dusty stonework as she searched for signs of recent occupation. Her eyes narrowed at the uneven floor tiles, some worn smooth by centuries of boots but others bearing the unmistakable marks of forced removal – a subtle indication that something had indeed been digging beneath Gravehill's streets.

Sister Hale approached Gravedigger Renn with measured steps, her hands held open in a gesture of reassurance. "You're safe now," she whispered softly, her voice a gentle counterpoint to the storm raging outside. As she spoke, Jeane's crimson eyes locked onto Gravedigger Renn's frightened face, her magic weaving a spell of calm around them both.