Rolan had nothing further to comment as further discussion was had between the knights. He had made his decision, honestly, and the blue of the magic fading as the Witch mentioned they would know when the compulsion was lifted. He didn't feel much different, but odds were he wouldn't unless he tried to speak on the matter to anyone else. Thrinax was sent off before the Dragonslayer arrived, noting that they should at least fight elsewhere. For his part, he had no interest in any further fighting and wasn't feeling particularly festive either. Settling down, he set out his kit and began reviewing what he had on hand, what he would need to reacquire once they returned to the world they knew far better, and what needed improved upon. His knife, old friend that it was, looked significantly worse for wear after just a few glancing blows from the daemoness. If he was going to not be afforded the luxury of being able to ensure a standoff distance, he had to have something more effective than a hunting knife. Once they returned he would have to discuss matters with those more seasoned in a melee to find a suitable blade to carry and begin learning. He understood the basics of swordplay, mind, but the basics would only protect him so far when pressed. Basics would not prevent a skilled opponent from overpowering him in short order, so he would have to add practice to his daily routine. 

[color=lightblue]"It's a shame the supplies don't come with us, I'm going to have to spend a fair amount of time replenishing and adding to what I carry."[/color]

[hr]

After the celebrations and fights concluded, sure enough, Rolan found himself back in his quarters. Despite the creeping dawn seemingly moments before, it was now dark and quiet. He sat up, checking himself over and confirming that, yes, all he had one him currently was what he had gone to bed wearing. Ensuring he was alone, he groaned quietly and buried his head in his hands, fingers running through his hair. For every advancement earned in alchemy and how much further he could have pressed his abilities with his crossbow, resting on a desk with the tools needed to maintain and upkeep the weapon, he had been reminded of his flaws as a member of the Roses. The Captain and Ser Renar had to abandon the assault on the mage to come to his aid, an effort that would have been better spent advancing on the summoner. He had nothing to even comment on Thrinax, the rest showing far more effective efforts overall, and was by and far thoroughly disappointed in his performance. He had much to learn and improve upon, condensed training time be damned, and he was on his feet and dressing himself. He wouldn't be able to sleep right now, even if he wanted to, so he might as well put these hours before the day began again to good use. 

Much of the alchemical supplies he needed would not be readily available until he could make requisitions and inquiries, at least he suspected so, meaning Rolan was heading to the armory. He was going to see what was on hand, ideally pick out something that would suit his strengths and start getting in practice before his duties for the day called. Making his way to the armory he would begin browsing through the various weapons that would be available. Most likely a one handed sword, it was as close to what he was already familiar with, though if something else could be suitably rationalized he might consider it. He would have to pretty much go off feel alone, spending some time reviewing what his options were and what would feel right in his hand. Keeping a sharp ear listening for movement, Rolan would not be too surprised to hear others who had returned starting to move about early on their own, but for the time being kept to his task of finding a more suitable backup weapon than a knife. From there he could begin worrying about how to improve his ability to wield such a weapon beyond rudimentary basics, and maybe let the others focus on their tasks during a pitched combat.