The Song of Roland Ch. 24

"A noble notion," Triss mentioned, "But a Demon doesn't give a damn fer your godliness. How do yer kin expect to keep safe, perched alone on the edge of the world as they are?"

"The Prophets will protect them." Loriel intoned, "They are our cult's mightiest magic users. None may even step upon the peak's path unless they have proved themselves worthy. Worry not for the Monastery's fate, for they are free from our mortal concerns. It is we who are challenged, it is we who must struggle to overcome this trial."

"Mayhaps we can call upon one of these prophets of yours?" Tedric asked, a faint, mocking smile on his face. "We could dearly use a magus of such vaunted might."

The three Cult priests shook their heads as one.

"Nay." Maghas said.

"Exha." Varrn growled.

"No." Loriel said, in the same moment as the others.

"Why not?" Hobber said. "Seems if we don't, we's fighting with one hand behind our backs."

"Had it been possible to do so, we would have already called on them." Loriel said. "The path to the Monastery is singular, irrevocable. One does not 'descend' from enlightenment."

"Spare us the religious drek." Triss said with a snort. "If you don't intend to call for them, just say so."

Loriel scowled. "You do not understand. The path to the peak is closed. None who ascend to the mountaintop are permitted - nor even able - to return. It is a literal, spiritual test. You can no more defy the magicks at play than you can withstand the might of the Seven."

"Then why is this a problem?" Fabian asked, casting a furtive glance in the direction of Captain Guyles.

Guyles obliged him. "In normal times, the path would open once a month. This opening would allow, by writ of our Prophets, one individual from the community whom the priesthood deems worthy to ascend to the peak. We have done this ritual uninterrupted for years, but now..." He swallowed. "The path has not opened at all in almost two months."

"Is this cause for concern?" Tedric Merryman asked.

"Everything is cause for concern." Loriel snapped, her patience tested. Maghas looked up at her. Her set a stunty hand upon her shoulder, leaning up to whisper something to her. His low voice was inaudible, a mere tremor in her ear. As she listened, fire in the Elf's eyes died. She sighed and relented. "...Yes. It is concerning. It has never happened before."

"What does this mean?" Fabian asked. "Has the Monastery been compromised?"

"No." Loriel said, with firm conviction. "The Prophets are far too mighty to be overwhelmed by a mere coven of Huzra's spawn. We are but children in their mastery of the Gods' powers." She sighed again. "It is far more likely that they have detected this taint plaguing the mountainside, and have chosen to protect the unblemished souls of the Monastery by denying new entrants."

"...Until we get rid of them." Hobber grumbled, unamused at the implied religious edict.

Loriel would not budge. "The Monastery is the lone bastion of sacredness in a world split into pieces. We, their chosen representatives of the village, cannot - will not - involve them in this worldly concern."

"So what is to be done?" Tedric Merryman asked.

"A fair question!" Triss said, her raspy laugh booming in the narrow confines of the smithy. She turned to Fabian with an expectant look.

But Fabian was looking at someone else entirely. He nodded towards the silent mercenary standing at Triss' side. "What say you, Roland?"

For a second time all their eyes were upon him. "What?" He asked, feigning ignorance.

But Fabian would not let him escape the loaded question so easily. "You have helped the Cult repel an attack already. You have experience fighting this coven. What course would you take?"

Loriel's eyes were sharper than daggers as they glared at Roland. He did his best to ignore it as he considered the situation with a hunter's mindset. "...We cannot worry 'bout the Monastery till the village is secure. The best option available to us is a decapitation strike. The Imp hordes keep cohesion only at the Demon's behest. Better to slay four Succubi in their beds than a hundred Imps in battle."

"But what of the Deepmines?" Fabian pressed, "You're suggesting we enter a tunnel network - possibly miles long - in pursuit of Demons who have made it their home?"

Roland shook his head, "The Demons will have made their nest in some secluded space near the surface, one with ample room to keep prisoners. I doubt they've explored much more than what is absolutely necessary. They need safety... but they also need access to easy prey. The deeper chambers will hold no interest to them. It won't be hard to find them."

"They're getting hungry." Triss agreed, "When they finish off the village, their only remaining source of easy food on the mountain is gone. The lowlands will be ravaged next."

Fabian shook his head. "We will not allow that to happen."

"So, there is to be an attack then?" Tedric Merryman asked.

Fabian's nodded. His brown eyes pivoted to look at the three representatives of the Cult at the War Council. "We will need guides, supplies, and as many magic wielders as you can spare."

"I will go." Maghas rumbled.

Varrn the Minotaur nodded, letting out a huff of agreement. "Ga-heh."

Loriel folded her arms together. "Maghas, Varrn and I will have to do. The rest are needed to tend to our flock."

"There won't be a flock to tend to, if we fail." Triss chided her.

"Nevertheless, our Gods command it." Loriel said in a firm tone. It was clear that was all she would speak on the matter.

"Very well." Fabian said, "Such are our circumstances. We'll take the day to rest and make ready for the journey. We leave tomorrow at dawn."

"What of our defenses?" Guyles asked. "My men are stretched perilously thin as it is, guarding the inner walls. If we are attacked while you are away..."

Roland piped up. "If needs be, I can remain behind to add to your tally, Captain." Guyles nodded respectfully in Roland's direction, though Fabian's three lieutenants shot him matching side-eyes.

"No." Fabian said, shaking his head. He looked directly at Roland. "There is too much at stake to spare you. The village - by necessity - is of secondary concern." He turned to Captain Guyles. "You will just have to make do with what you have."

Guyles grimaced but nodded. It seemed he'd expected such an outcome.

Fabian's stoic gaze swept across the table. "It is settled, then. Make whatever preparations you need, and pray to whichever Gods you follow. Tomorrow, we make for the Deepmines."

That should have been the end of things. But Triss, damn her bones, had to get one last dig in.

"-And you'll be right there with us, won't you Roland?" She asked, a budding smirk spreading wide across her face.

Everyone's eyes turned to him for a third and final time. He scowled at Triss, clenching his jaw in an effort to hide his anger at being once more cornered in such a manner.

No. He thought.

"Aye." He said.