Oh no, this again.

Rolan would have started quite vocally complaining, despite his usual airs of confidence and collected self, if it wasn't for the fact his whole hearted griping quite literally caught in his throat as the young, icy eyed girl began to speak. Things started making some semblance of sense as she elaborated on recent events. Handpicked Roses, cast into a dream sequence of training that condensed what could not be done in real life over the span of a night's sleep. He begrudgingly had to concede it made good sense to take advantage of a period of time that most times could not be used, even if, personally speaking, spending what was assumed to be a nightmare sequence fighting increasingly impossible foes alone. Apparently they had all passed her initial evaluation, though some tidbits of information given away lingered in his head as he glossed over the less important babbling.

Tyaethe was already skilled enough to not be dragged into this, a fair statement on its own, but what was more notable was not subjecting her to this, not being so cruel as to do so. That gave this place more reality, a more grounded understanding, of the past most likely, warped as it no doubt was for this contest. He'd have to prod the more learned of them, the Captain maybe, about the past, might give them an edge to look into what had happened before. Second, a blonde set of twins were quite literally tossed in their general direction, with a broom, and mention of a 'little sister' thinking her apprentice needed some more experience, and they needed more magic. That...Rolan would not comment on, even if he could mouth off like he wanted to right now. Magic was foreign to him, anything he did alchemically was firmly grounded in nature, but there were far too many questions about the....blondes dumped into their metaphorical laps to really muse on that any further.

What he most certainly did not appreciate was being dropped rather unceremoniously through the clouds and downwards. While his gut and sense of balance screamed bloody murder at him, Rolan focused the reasonable part of his brain on what he could see as they descended. Brilliant marble white city, empty green plains in every other direction, and of course the city was squarely in the way of their escape. Escaping was far too simple, and it would be pointless to assume he could just range ahead and slip out unscathed. More problematically, there was no promises that if one of them made it out, that it meant all of them made it out. That meant someone had to stay behind to make sure no one got stuck before being last to leave, and knowing how the last dream sequence of a training session went? No way there was a golden archway, complimentary snacks, and a fond pat on the back before shuffling back to what was real. Or, well, he assumed was real. For all he knew this was multiple layers deep and they had been blatantly lied to. Not like any of them was given the luxury of asking questions.

[color=lightblue]"Well, this answers what I was going to do, asking around about a certain dream that is. Leaves far too much unanswered, mind you..."[/color] The Knight-Captain looked unsteady, making a general statement about needing to move out. Well, yes, Rolan supposed that they had no other luxury besides moving forward. Not like wandering off in any of the other vaguely defined directions would do them any good at this point in time. He didn't know how long they had before hunger and exhaustion set in, assuming they did at all beyond combat exertions, which meant he would be keeping a sharp eye out for supplies. Game, fresh water, the sort of things a war party living off the land might need. It kept his mind grounded and not wandering too much, since there was little time allowed for any sort of questioning or gathering of thoughts as they marched, a most peculiar sight arose.

Candaeln, the Iron Rose base of operations, technically his home too. Not the same one mind, lacked a lot of what one expected to see laying around, and he had to hazard a guess that this was a past, simpler version of the place. The comment on cruelty towards a long lived vampire rang in his head again, and he began running the geography of the kingdom through his head again, working off memory right now. If this was Candaeln, of a sorts, then they could look at the current, modern age to guess at what this place held. Rolan was utterly convinced this was an amalgamation of the past right now, though his train of thought was interrupted by the sight of [i]another[/i] legendary figure. Another dead one, mind, but here stood Cyrus the Hammer, as if he hadn't been dead many generations over by now. Right, he was kind of getting tired of legends walking out of the past to 'train' the present, but he didn't exactly get a say in the matter did he?

[color=lightblue]"Right, living legends all over again. Anyone got a map, I have a theory that I need to check. There have been too many tidbits of information that I think are going to add up to something peculiar. Or I am a completely wrong, who knows."[/color] Rolan wanted to compare what they had seen coming down, coupled with being in Candaeln, with the current state of things. That might just give them an inkling of what they were dealing with, or at least could hazard a safe guess. Even a slight bit of planning ahead meant a damn sight more than gawking at a man who could probably carry the assembled Roses without breaking a sweat, and break any number of them nearly as easily, and he would save that gawking for when he wasn't in the middle of trying to escape another damn dream. He didn't even remember going to sleep this time, which was what would have really annoyed him if he dwelled on it for too long.