Round 1

[Narrator | Narrator]
The cast is gathered under a common warning, with the danger and opportunity laid out plainly before any real movement begins.

[Jeane | Sorcerer]
Jeane leans forward, resting her elbows on the table, fingers steepled. I hear the words, but what I want to know is this: what happens if we fail? Or more importantly—what happens if we succeed and decide to keep the Time-Splitting Sword for ourselves?

[Halie | Cleric]
I weigh the danger carefully, ask for clarity where needed, and keep my response grounded in the choice before us.

[Merrin | Rogue]
Fidgets with a lockpick, twirling it between nimble fingers. Well, that all sounds lovely if we come out on top. But let's not forget, the Whispering Woods are no joke. I've heard tales of travelers who went in and never came out. And these shadow demons... Shudders visibly. Let's just say I've had nightmares about things with fewer limbs than they should.

[Seraphine | Wizard]
Seraphine pushes her chair back slightly, the heavy wood scraping softly against the stone floor. She crosses one leg over the other, her posture remaining perfectly erect as she listens to the exchange with a keen ear and an analytical mind. The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows across her pale skin, accentuating the sharp lines of her face.
"The question isn't whether we can succeed," she says, her voice low and measured. "It's what the cost of success will be. The Time-Splitting Sword... it's not merely a weapon, but a key to powers we can scarcely comprehend. Whoever wields it gains the ability to split time itself, to create multiple versions of a single moment." She pauses, her eyes distant as if seeing something only she can perceive. "Imagine the chaos. The unintended consequences. Each split creates a ripple effect, altering the course of lives, entire histories."
Her gaze returns to the table, sweeping over each person present before coming to rest on Jeane. "As for keeping it... that path leads only to tyranny or madness. No one should possess such a power, no matter their intentions. We're not here to be heroes or villains. We're here because someone is willing to pay us to retrieve an object of immense danger."
She shifts forward, her long fingers tracing the edge of the map on the table. "Our job is simple: go in, find the sword, and bring it out. If we do that, the gold is ours. If we try to hold onto it... well, I'd rather not think about what might happen then." Her eyes lift again, meeting each person's gaze in turn, a silent challenge passing between them. "So yes, let's talk strategy and supplies. But remember this: the real threat isn't just outside those doors. It's what we might do with what we find if we get our hands on it."

[Varrika | Fighter]
I lean back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest, the heavy mace at my hip a comforting weight. My eyes scan each face around the table, taking their measure. Listen, I've fought in my share of battles and seen my fair of horrors. But this... I nod towards the map. This is different. We're not just walking into danger, we're stepping into legend.