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>16/20 - 1/2 Survive
Fresh moisture blankets the moss covered stones. The long-torches gutter, their fires made sallow by the chilling winds cast down from the darkening clouds.
They two of them split. The graverobber sprints between the wind-carved arches; his wife seeks the shelter of the yawning trees. Both of them mumble prayers that disappear into the wind - hoping that they alone are pursued, that they alone are taken by the peaked confessors and the other spared.
Yet you can only answer one.
>[WIFE] - Save the graverobber's wife.
>[HUSBAND] - Save the graverobber.
>[NOTHING] - Chance.
