Round 3

As Silra's eyes scanned the church facade, her gaze lingered on the inverted ward, its dark magic signature a stark contrast to the faint consecration near the bell tower. The air seemed heavy with foreboding, and Sister Hale's cautious concern was palpable as she watched Silra examine the stonework. "Be careful," Jeane had said, but Silra's rogue senses were already on high alert, her fingers tracing the subtle patterns of magic that lingered in the stone.

Sister Hale's rusted key turned with a faint screech, and the main door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit interior that seemed to swallow the lantern's glow. The air within was thick with dust and the stench of decay, and Silra could feel the weight of old malevolence bearing down upon them. As Sister Hale stepped across the threshold, her unholy symbol at the ready, Silra followed closely behind, her senses on high alert for any signs of danger that might lurk within.