Round 13 Transcript

Jeane’s Protection from Poison spell fizzles halfway, leaving a faint crackling of arcane energy that briefly stuns Gravedigger Renn. The spell does not fully protect him, but it creates a shimmering barrier that momentarily shields him from immediate harm. Renn is left wary and slightly more trusting, though the spell’s incomplete effect leaves him uncertain about the party’s reliability.

Silra approaches the altar with the kind of focus a predator reserves for handling unstable explosives. The stone is cold and dusty, but underneath her fingers, something feels wrong—the grain is too smooth in places where it shouldn't be. She traces the edges methodically. A tripwire network would need anchors—small eyelets or hooks hidden under the stonework to hold tension. There. Four distinct pressure points along the perimeter, barely visible seams that shift when she presses with a knuckle. Probably tied to the bell Gravedigger mentioned—the one in the ceiling above them. She pulls out her dagger and begins prying at the seam closest to the door, where the city guard will arrive first.

Sister Hale steps forward, her voice steady despite fatigue. "Gravedigger Renn, you must move back from this spot. The guard may return soon." She gestures to a sheltered alcove in the crumbling wall, then turns to Jeane with a look that carries both gratitude and concern for their new companion's well-being. Without waiting for agreement, she guides Renn by his shoulder toward the relative safety of the alcove.

Her voice is smooth and reassuring, the kind of calm that feels practiced and deliberate. She gestures with one hand, a subtle tracing of arcane symbols in the air, and a faint shimmer of energy—gentle, non-damaging, just enough to soothe frayed nerves—wraps around Gravedigger Renn. Steady now. You're safe here with us, she says, her dark eyes fixed on him with an intensity that's almost hypnotic. Tell me more about what you heard beneath the city—I want to understand so we can help. *The calming spell works perfectly this time, a soft wave of reassurance washing over Renn. His breathing evens out, and some of the wild fear leaves his eyes.* I—yes, ma'am. It was like... *he swallows hard* ...like something moving through the old sewers. Heavy. Slow. And there was a sound—clicking, scraping against stone. I thought it might be just rats at first, but then I heard voices too. Low. Guttural. Speaking in a language I couldn't place.*