Dolce helped Vasilia out of the muck, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief  to see murder in her eyes. Murder was good. Murder meant she was unhurt, save for her pride. He could help that later-

And that was when the air split apart, and a terrible sound brought him to his knees. Loud, impossibly loud, threatening to tear him apart. His ears rang. His vision went white. All of it, a terrible harbinger of the world that slowly returned to focus.    

The cat was gone. Long gone. Off to take Redana away from them, because they couldn’t stop her.

A man with a grim book and an aura to match stood over him. A priest of standing high enough to crush them beneath his god’s favor.

There was Alexa. Thunderbolt through her stone heart. Fallen, and not rising.

Here he was. A little sheep with a host of impossible jobs, and the doom of his dear friends should he fail.

“I say!”

Vasilia soared before him, one hand stretched out behind her. Expectantly. At once, he put his sword in her hand[1], and she swung out in a wide arc, catching the book’s chain and batting it away. Again and again she struck, keeping the dreadful book at arm’s reach, until one precise thrust caught the chain around her blade. The two of them pulled, book and duel hanging in the balance, neither giving an inch. “This is [i]such[/i] a coincidence.” She flashed him a wild grin. “I’m going to need you to answer some questions too.”

...if they weren’t in a fight, he could have kissed her on the spot.

“Dolce! The Ceronians!” 

Hrm? Oh! Yes. Yes of course. They had to stop Jas'o. That was the mission. That was...that was his job now. His only job. Wasn’t it nice, to have so much less to do? So much easier to focus. So much less to get distracted by. Just do his job, do it well, and all will be well. That was it. That was...all there was to it.

So. So he’d best get on it right away, and stop his dawdling.

Dolce disappeared into the underbrush without another word.

[Crossing Dolce’s sword off his gear, giving it to Vasilia. That’s a [b]9[/b] on Keep Them Busy, Vasilia stays behind and they are now [b]Working Alone.[/b]]

*****************************

[b]Ceronian General![/b]

What is your name, actually?

Whoever you are, you smell the cream-colored sheep long before you see him, which is approximately when he steps out from behind your next-door neighbor and bows low from the waist. You’ve heard of servants fading into the background until called for, but perhaps that wasn’t always a figure of speech. “Good sir, where may we find offerings to Zeus suitable for the occasion?” Even he couldn’t speak without a tremble in his voice. A big day for all of them. “Might I recommend spirits of triumph, brewed from the bounty of your harvest? They are a favorite of Lord Zeus’.”  

You’re still not sure where this fellow came from, or why Jas'o might keep such an odd priest in his retinue, but it is a momentous day[2]. And it would be a foolish army that marched their way out of retirement without the proper offerings.

What do you do?

***

[1]: He was a professional, and they had practiced similar maneuvers dozens of times. He would not say if he still felt tempted to give her his hand instead of his sword. That was intelligence suitable only for his Captain.

[2]: If you tried to count the number of times a priest were to coincidentally appear on a day of great happenings, you’d run out of numbers before you were done. It’s a staple of theatre and song for a reason, you know.