Round 1 Transcript

The Narrator lets the room settle and lays out the immediate proposition in concrete terms, making clear that the cast must answer what is being asked of them before anything can move forward.

Jeane leans back in her chair, dark eyes moving from face to face as if taking a measure. The Time-Splitting Sword. I've heard whispers of its power—supposedly cuts through moments themselves like a blade through silk. But legends don't come free, and neither does facing down whatever necromantic circus is throwing bones around that tower.

I understand the power of the sword, but I'm concerned with the cost. This isn't just a smash-and-grab; we're walking into a place where death is likely a minor inconvenience for our enemies. I won't be party to a suicide run. If you can give us assurances that there's a viable exit strategy, a way out if things go south... then I'm willing to hear more about what's actually involved beyond 'go in, grab the shiny, come out alive.'

Merrin fidgets with a bit of flint and steel, striking sparks that dance across her fingers.

Seraphine sits forward, her pale hands folding together on the rough-hewn tabletop. Her eyes, dark and knowing, meet each of yours in turn before settling on the center of the room where the map lies.
The Time-Splitting Sword... it is a legend I have studied, yes, but only as a theoretical construct. A power that could unravel the very fabric of causality, if properly harnessed. And yet...
She pauses, her gaze dropping to the scarred wood grain for a moment before rising again, more resolute.
I will not pretend this is not dangerous. The Whispering Woods themselves are said to drive men mad with whispers. And now you speak of undead guardians and demonic summons? This is no mere bandit camp or haunted tomb.
She takes a slow breath, her voice dropping to a near whisper that still cuts through the quiet.
But if this is true, if it truly exists, then the potential is immense. To have a weapon that can slice time itself... it could change the course of wars, topple tyrants who would not yield to any other means.
Her fingers drum silently on the table as she considers her next words carefully.
However, I must know more about these dark sorcerers we are to face. What manner of magic do they wield? How long have they dwelled in that accursed place? And perhaps most importantly... what is their connection to this sword

I lean forward, my calloused hands clasping together as I listen to the proposal. A time-splitting sword, eh? Sounds like trouble waiting to happen, if you ask me. But I've been paid to swing a hammer and crack skulls, not to question the whys. If there's an enemy to face and a prize to be had, then I'm your dwarf. Just don't expect me to start believing in magic blades that can change the course of history. In my experience, the only thing that decides the fate of battles is who's left standing when the smoke clears.