Round 4

In the depths of Gravehill's desolate landscape, where the ash-choked sky seemed to suffocate the earth, Sister Hale stood vigilant at the entrance of the ruined church, her steady gaze sweeping the road for any sign of movement. The wind whispered secrets through the broken stones, and the creaking of the old wooden doors echoed through the stillness.

As night began to fall, casting a dark shroud over the scene, Jeane stepped forward from the shadows, her crimson eyes aglow with an inner fire. She raised her hands, and the air vibrated with anticipation as she began to weave a ritual incantation, tracing intricate patterns on the stone floor. The soft hum of magical energy grew louder, drawing Silra's attention like a moth to flame.

The elf rogue woman scrutinized the north-facing stonework, her teal eyes narrowing as she searched for any signs of structural weakness. Her practical leathers creaked softly in the faint breeze, and she stood poised, ready to strike, as Jeane channeled arcane power through the magical seal.