Round 15

As the party stood frozen in anticipation, Sister Hale's words hung in the air like a fragile promise, her weary eyes locked on Gravedigger Renn as he trembled beneath her watchful gaze. The guards' voices grew louder, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls, and Jeane's spellwork painted a tapestry of warning across the graveyard, every sound magnified by the weight of their uncertainty. Silra crouched low, her teal eyes fixed intently on the ground, as if listening for the subtlest hint of movement beneath their feet, the scrape of stone on stone echoing through the air like a death knell. The wind moaned through the ruins, its mournful sighs mingling with the guards' approaching voices, and Jeane's voice was low and controlled as she spoke to Sister Hale, her power coursing through the air like a dark, electric current.