The Vampire & Her Witch

Diarmuid frowned slightly at the way Loman boasted of his capabilities. Whether his flames were hotter than the flames of the local Inquisitors or not hardly mattered, but it was something that the people could understand, even if it wasn't precisely true.

Looking at the knights, however, particularly young Sir Niall, he realized just how ragged and on edge the leaders of the town's defenses were. As soon as Loman had explained that Sir Tommin could counter the terrifying Crimson Knight, Baron Hanrahan's knights had slumped in visible relief that they wouldn't be called upon to sacrifice themselves in a futile attempt to destroy the heretical knight.

Personally, Diarmuid felt that he had learned much from the local Inquisitors during his brief venture into the wilderness with Owain Lothian. These men were the true heroes standing at the edge of civilization and burning away the darkness and evil that crept in from the demon's territory, and Diarmuid disliked the dishonesty of holding himself up as a source of salvation by pushing those men down.

At the same time, much like he understood why the Church wouldn't move against Owain Lothian despite his guilt, he acknowledged that Loman needed to do whatever he could in order to rally the defenders before they abandoned the fight.

And perhaps, as an outsider who couldn't rely on a history of accomplishments in Lothian March the way Sir Tommin could, it was important to do something more… tangible to give the people a reason to place their faith in him.

"Oh Holy Lord of Light and Fire,

Reveal your might in Sacred Flame,

Show them strength that never tires,

Burning bright in your great name!"

Rather than agree with Loman's exaggerated rhetoric about the heat of his flames, Diarmuid held out his hand to offer a demonstration of real power, pouring his heart and his faith into his prayer and conjuring a pillar of flame the width of his hand that stretched almost all the way to the great hall's ceiling.

Sacred reddish-golden flames burst into being, hot enough to be felt like the warmth of the rising sun on the cheeks of people all the way at the back of the hall, and intense enough that anyone sitting at the first row of tables near the Inquisitor visibly drew back from the intensity of the heat.

Most of the people in the hall had never seen the Holy Flames of an Inquisitor, but seeing it now and feeling the heat of his flames from dozens of paces away, the icy grip of fear began to melt from the hearts of the people, even after Diarmuid waved his hand and dismissed his flames.

"The Holy Lord of Light has given us His Holy Flames to cleanse the land of evil demons," Loman said with a nod of acknowledgement to the Inquisitor, silently thanking him for his demonstration. "And he has given us the Holy Light to cut through the darkness," he added as he gestured to Sir Tommin, now dressed again in the gleaming armor of a Templar and looking larger than life in his pristine white tabard.

"And with the Holy Lord of Light as my witness, the stars themselves will guide us to victory!" Loman called, holding up a hand high above his head as he closed his eyes in silent prayer.

When he did, the light in the great hall seemed to dim as a single bright point of light blazed in his hand. The moment Loman clutched that bright point of light, it was joined by two others, one a few inches beneath his hand and another several inches above it. Soon those points of light were followed by two more below and two more above, forming the familiar constellation of Ceslovas Beksa, the Ascended Archer.

Once the final bright star appeared, light spilled from Loman's hand in a thin line, connecting the dots of stars until he held a shining, luminous bow formed of pure, holy light.

"No one can hide from the Sacred Stars above," Loman said to the crowd who stood mesmerized, staring at a manifestation of the power of the Holy Lord of Light unlike any they had seen before. "But I cannot fight alone," he added as he turned to look at the awestruck Head Priest, who was once again gazing at the Lothian Lord with bright eyes filled with reverence.

"I need twelve arrows in my quiver," Loman said firmly as he looked into the other man's wide and shining eyes. "I need you to do this for me, and there is very little time," he said as he glanced to the window where the advancing serpent of flame was even more visible before, though it hadn't drawn close enough yet to distinguish individual points of light with the unassisted eye.

"Can you return to the temple and send me as many acolytes as you can spare?" Loman asked, though his tone was firm enough that it was clear he would only accept one answer. "It cannot be fewer than twelve, but I'm sure that Inquisitor Ignatious can use all the help you can lend him as well," he added.

A real Exemplar, like Exemplar Domas Onaitis, could channel the power of an entire heavenly choir in times of need, and he had assured Loman that one day, he would be able to command the devotion of at least fifty acolytes, even if he was never elevated by one of the saints. But for now, twelve acolytes were both the minimum number he needed in order to assemble a sacred quiver of faith, and the most that he could harness power from.

Whether or not Ignatious could draw devotion from members of the faithful who weren't part of the Inquisition, Loman didn't know, but even if they were of no use at all, there were certain to be plenty of wounded soon, and there would be no shortage of need for acolytes who could tend to them.

"I, I can return to the temple?" Germot said, blinking in surprise as he was told that he could escape to the only place in the entire town that would be safer from the demons than the keep he was currently standing in. "Of course," he said eagerly. "You'll have your arrows, your Worship, I mean, you'll have my best acolytes! Twelve of them and not a man less!"

"And more if you can spare them!" Loman called after the priest, who had started to run for the doors as soon as he'd made a brief, almost perfunctory gesture of reverence in Loman's direction.

"Lord Loman, your Worship," Ian Hanrahan said awkwardly as he shuffled toward the dark-robed figure who seemed to shine like the stars in the heavens, even after he released the holy power of the sacred bow he had displayed to everyone in the great hall.

At this point, Baron Hanrahan had to admit that he had completely lost control of anything that would happen next. In some ways, that was a relief as he could pin any failures squarely on young lord Loman's shoulders, but at the same time, he wanted to do everything he could to improve his odds of surviving this night, and that meant that he had to show Loman the truth about what he was facing.

"Your Worship, would you like to take a look?" Baron Hanrahan said awkwardly as he held out his perspective glass. "I, I think there are things you should see. Then, then you'll know what to do."

"All right," Loman said, stepping down from the table to meet the portly baron by the window. "Let me take a look," he said as he carefully took the perspective glass from the man's outstretched hands.

As he did, both Inquisitor Diarmuid and Sir Tommin came to join him at the window. For a moment, Sir Dollin looked like he was about to follow, ready to act as an advisor to the young lord who was preparing to command his first battle in war, only to stop when he saw the Inquisitor and the Templar making their moves.

This battle, the aging knight realized, would be led by the Church and not by ordinary lords and soldiers like him… and when it came to battles involving holy powers the likes of which he'd never seen before, he realized that his advice might be worse than useless.

When Loman raised the eyepiece to his eye, after a few moments of orienting himself to the view that could shift wildly with the slightest of motions, he finally located the slowly advancing demon army, but when he did, he went every bit as still as Baron Hanrahan had.

"Baron Hanrahan," Loman said softly, speaking in a hushed tone that could only be heard by the three men standing beside the window without taking his eye off the eyepiece. "How sturdy are your gates? You've glimpsed the demon giants. Do you think your gates will hold them back?"