The path trails on for a time, arcing around a rocky ridge. The camp can be seen not further beyond this. But the walk to it is stopped as a voice is heard from a cloaked man on a ledge above. "Hold!" he lets out, raising a gloved hand. "I recognize you, heretics. You are among the misguided. You will go no further," he booms. The cult camp is still to far out of earshot, but on the ridge with him are a handful of other cultists, armed with crossbows.