Round 3

[Narrator | Narrator]
The flames sputter, casting long shadows across the cracked stone and the weary faces around the table. A thin stream of cold air drifts in from the broken doorway, carrying the distant rumble of thunder that seems to echo the tower’s warning. The silver holy symbol on Halie’s chest glows faintly, a quiet testament to the pact forged with the village priestess. In this dim room, each voice has been heard; the party’s resolve is laid bare, and the stakes—retrieving the Time‑Splitting Sword or watching the Whispering Woods grow ever more haunted—are clear. The candlelight flickers once more, and the last of the candles gutter against the damp walls, as the group nods in reluctant agreement, ready to move beyond the chapel’s crumbling thresholds into the heart of the tower’s darkness.