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Forbidden Temple of the Great Falls

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Korsarro blinked, this was odd. Why was he being looked over by a Giant and a Guard? He was the only one here who knew what the hell he was doing. Damnable fools. How dare they judge him, they clearly thought he was incapable of doing his damn job. Of course they would never admit to it. The Giant was too huge. Freakishly huge. No wonder his people were starving. His people clearly had no blessing of Mother Buzzia. She demanded the filth die. Yes. That was it. He shook his head. What by the Beesiah was he thinking? The huge man may have been freakishly huge but... But he was still exactly that. A freak. A mutant. His gaze moved from the Giant to the Guard, neither of them would remotely understand the work that would be required to figure these blasted devices out. He found his hands balling into fists. Aware of it, but in no hurry to fix it. It felt good. His eyes shot to the Giant. Maybe they were right? He had proven himself incapable in the past. He certainly was no scholar. Maybe... Maybe he wasn't cut out to be a monk. Perhaps he was just a running joke. Let into the order out of pity. Would he even be missed if he was gone? He doubted so. Maybe he should go. Make room for another Monk to take his place. A new tanner. One who would not cause chaos in the Temple. Buzzia demanded his death, by his reckoning.

This last thought brought the terrible realisation of what he was contemplating to his mind, he panicked. His hands jumping to the tie on the sash, the relic would not influence him. No. He would not be controlled. His will was his own. He was not as worthless as this accursed thing made him think he was. HE WAS NOT. His face became on of horror, his breathe coming short and shallow as his hands couldn't seem to stop shaking long enough to get at the knot. "Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnit!" He snarled, he had to take it off. He had to.
 
Swiftbeak awaited Al's response with trepidation; it could easily be a confirmation of his fears, or outright hostility, and as the monk seemingly pondered the gryphon's words he found himself looking for any excuse to break the tense silence. That opportunity presented itself when Morr emerged, wandering through the hives of the garden; even if he had not see the knight's armour glinting in the sun, he had become to grow accustomed to the steady, low buzz of Beezia's servants, and the slightest change in tone or volume alerted him as surely as a tripwire.

"Brother... Morr?" he asked warily, voice raising to carry itself above the din of the busy insects. "Are you unwell?"
 
Morr had been walking in the garden for some time, somewhat aimlessly

Turning to face the source of the grating voice, the transformed man, Morr answered "It is not 'brother', cursed one, I am not a monk nor am I technically part of the temple, but my profession is that of a knight from a far-off order. Besides that..." he hesitated before the former human for a split-second "... I do not rightly know, I fear. Maybe something has afflicted me, but earlier I thought I was attacked by a neverending swarm of... simply gigantic bees, but much more agressive and suicidical. When I retreated here, every single one of the beasts suddenly vanished without even one corpse remaining..." even though his words spoke of his confusion, his tone stayed precise and neutral.
 
"Brother Korsarro!" Arngeir fell to his knees beside the pan and pulled the sash free as the monk undid the knits. "What is wrong?" he demanded. What had the sash done to the miniature gentleman? Surely it must have been something awful to illicit such a reaction. The gold sash had been strange, but this black one had been downright aggressive by the looks of it. He quickly folded the sash up and put it on the table far away from the monk.

"What happened, noble gentleman?" the giant asked again. "Did it try to do something to you?"
 
"My apologies; I have become fast accustomed to calling most here brother, out of respect. Is there another title you wish to go by?"

While awaiting an answer, the gryphon lowered his head until it was level with Morr's armour, and though separated by a fair amount of distance he seemed to be studying the surface of the plate.

"You are quite correct that there are no remains upon your armour; that is worrisome. I do not know whether it would be demonic magic or..." The gryphon struggled to find a tactful way to suggest the obvious. "...or something more mundane, but either would be cause for concern. Have you been feeling ill, lately?"
 
Korsarro took a stap back from the sash just to be safe "It messed with my head. Worse than the last one. I.. " He swallowed hard bringing his hands to his face, attempting to wipe the thoughts from his mind through his eyes, terrible aware it would do nothing "By the Beesiah. It made me want to kill myself. The damned thing... I see now why it was locked away." He took to one of the chairs. He needed to compose himself if they were to continue experimentation. He would be no use with his mind still so panicked. He wasn't worthless. Surely not. He would have to think on this. But what if that was what the sash wanted? He shook his head.

He turned to Arn, remembering the hugemans plight. He scratched the back of his head. These were not the kind of conversations he would usually have. "Arn... Surely at some point suring your long quest you've thought that hope was gone, maybe that you couldn't do it? And these thoughts would make you feel somewhat worthless, right? How did you... deal with that." He hated to ask this of a man he barely knew, but he had the sanking suspicion that the huge gentleman would provide better comfort than the battle hardened knight.
 
"Apologies are not needed. Besides that, I personally am in no need of a title, although I have to recognize that many prefer to grant those of my profession the title 'sir'. As to my personal well-being, that has not been worse than usual, I suppose and as long as I am here in this monastery, I fear any of the possibilities you mentioned could be a viable explanation." Morr answered.
 
"I would have to say that..." This was not the situation he had been expecting. He had certainly felt his hope draining away in his months of searching. At times it had felt pointless to even try. Before he had left, even, in the years of his father's absence from their home, Arngeirr had feel the creeping paranoia that his father would never return. And when the time had come, the passing of the ten years that marked a hugeman's loss, it had all certainly come crashing down on him.

But was he not a huge gentleman? That was what had always carried him through. To carry hope when those around him had given up. And if there was no hhope, then to carry on anyway, for there was certainly nothing else worth fighting for than a lost cause. And he had certainly seen the signs of a gentleman in Korsarro; it was, therefore, Arngeirr's duty to remind the small man how huge he himself was. "Brother Korsarro. I would say that you must remember that you are most certainly not worthless. You were the only one here brave enough to volunteer for this terrible task. Even I was only compelled to do it because I felt I had no right not to. You, who were at one point a simple tanning monk in this monastery, have taken it upon yourself to bear the brunt of his huge burden. You most certainly are a huge gentleman, and most certainly are not one to give into these feelings. They are something from this blasted demon's relic and relic more, dear brother. Do not forget that."
 
"So long as your cause is noble, you are worthy of a title; if not from any other, then at least from me. But this attack you speak of is worrying; I have little practical knowledge of the demonic beyond my own predicament. Brother Al, might you have any insight into Sir Morr's affliction?"
 
Al had been trying to ignore the creature; he doubted he would ever be very comfortable in its presence. Let alone see it as a fellow. But luckily he was spared further conversation with it by the arrival of sir Morr. Swiftbeak had switched targets, instead querying the knight. Al still watched him closely lest he be trying to gain some type of sensitive information unassumingly. But he had to agree with the gryphon's observation. Morr did not look well, and Al doubted it was from his injuries. He did not seem to be experiencing physical pain, or was at least not showing it. "Perhaps it isjust fatigue. I'm sure with all the excitement recently on top of his injuries he has not had enough proper rest." Yes, thatcould be the cause. But deep down Al still wondered.
 
Korsarro nodded quietly, taking the in Giants words in. He had a point. He had vlunteered. Even if it had been out of a sense of obligation to the huge gentleman. Nevertheless, the sentiment behind Arns did not seem to be of a similar motivation, a fact he was thankful for. He smiled "Thank you Arn, I had forgotten how well these things could burrow into your head" It would be some time until the thoughts fully left him, but for now, they would not bother him. And if they did? Well, the kitchen, with it's wonderful mead and other such drinks was only a short walk away. He nodded, satisfied, hopping from the chair and standing maybe not tall, but certainly proud enough to make it seem as if he was.

"I think, all that's left of the most basic tests is to try both at once, after that we could try putting them on others, see if they experience anything different. The only problem would be finding another volunteer." Korsarro shrugged, for all of the courage within the Temple, few were willing to actively put themselves in danger for the sake of study, most believing that the horrid devices should be locked away and left to rot. Though so far no artifact had shown any sign of rotting.
 
"It matters little whether my flesh needs rest, the purpose demands and I must follow, for I am not used up yet." Morr answered mechanically "Besides that, I had enough rest when I was guarding milady Mary in the hospice."

But perhaps not enough that he began to see illusions that, if he had reacted more violent, could have led to some serious and even mortal injuries to those around him.

Perhaps, for the sake of those the purpose demanded he protect, he should rest...
Perhaps, he felt even worse than he thought, his head spinning, his chest...

His chest- his ribs!

Unclasping the lowest part of the breastplate, Morr felt for the bandages, bringing his hand back up, he beheld an exorbitant amount of blood.
"Brother Al, brother... unfortunate soul, I fear my reckless flight from the illusion had caused my wounds to open again, a mistake worthy of a knave, I must admit to my shame. Farewell, I will now make my way for the hospice and the care of brother Blake again." Morr gave a court bow, before going on his way.
 
"I say old bean," Arngeirr said with growing apprehension, "I wouldn't want to put both of these items on at the same time. If the last reaction was so severe I would hate to see someone lose their mind having to contend with both items at once."

The giant moved back to the box and took up the two sashes. "I believe you observed that the first one was relatively harmless to you. I would, perhaps, wish to test its effects on myself at some point. Though not at the present moment; I feel we should not put the sashes on another being today, no matter how huge a gentleman they are." Part of it was Arngeirr's wishing that they not move too fast and miss something crucial; part of it was also his growing concern for his friend. The jump in hostility from the items was frightening; he did not want to risk whatever might happen if both sashes were born at once.

"In the mean time, I think we should gather what information we have, and I shall do my best to remember the things my father may have told me. Perhaps we should fetch paper and an inkwell from a page so that we may properly record everything." Arngeirr moved to place the black sash back in the box. As he pressed it down into its designated place, he felt the bottom of the box bend as if above an open space before his find hit hard resistance. Could it be that-

"I say," he blurts, "Does this box have a false bottom?"
 
Korsarro walked over to the box, tapping his knuckled against the side, nearly at the bottom. He listened close. It didn't sound hollow... perhaps it was filled with something? Korsarro looked up to the giant, shrugging again "Only one way to find out Arn, if you want I can go find some paper and ink while you check, unless you'd rather I stay just in case." He had to admit, his curiousity for what might be underneath the sashes burned at him, it might be something that could make the research go much faster, previous notes stored away.
 
Hallucinations, wounds; was there no end to the trouble that plagued this knight? Swiftbeak found himself questioning Morr's ability to defend the temple, but crushed the thought with the realization that many he'd seen so far had been flawed in some way; Wolfram's arm, Mary's age and inexperience. Only Al had seemed so far to have the physical prowess and zealous suspicion he'd anticipated from the Temple's defenders.

He let Sir Morr depart, not moving to disturb him with a goodbye. He did, however, twist his head to look down upon Al.

"Brother Al... Your caution so far has been admirable, but there is much in this temple to see. I humbly ask that we roam from these gardens, that I might meet the others that dwell here now, in relative peace, so they do not mistake me for an enemy. Is it so likely that I might slip my bonds that I cannot wander, even within these walls? However simple these straps are to cut, for me to leap from stillness into flight is an endeavour of exertion and time, and would not go unnoticed by the archers."
 
"You can wander where you please Swiftbeak. Just know that I will always be with you, watching for the slightest sign of misdeed. If you wish to meet with people I suggest we go to the dining hall. It will soon be dinner time, and the monks and guards will be gathering there." Al had been getting a bit hungry anyway. Internal struggles and his new duty aside, he had not eaten since breakfast.
 
"I say brother Korsarro, you've been a huge help so far. It should not take much to open this compartment." The giant fingers feel around the edges of the red silk lining, eventually finding a space just large enough to fit. He digs in his fingers, finding the lip of what is indeed a false bottom and pulls up gently. The bottom comes away in his hands, and as he lifts it up to reveal the hidden compartment, his eyes go wide with shock.

"Good heavens," he hisses, "Could this really be it?" His hand darts in to grab the item and hold it up to the light. It is an over-sized book, perhaps what one would expect to find in the libraries of the Hugelands. The giant sets it down on the table, making sure to replace the bottom of the container and lock the black sash safely away, the box's mechanisms locking into place as soon as the lid is closed. Written on the cover of the book is a single word: "Anvindr"
 
There it was again... he sensed the sudden mad panic of the swarm, the sound of thousands upon thousands of tiny creatures buzzing frantically in his mind. He had assumed when he reached the gardens that his blessed children where merely trying to keep mary safe, but this was something much, much worse. He could feel each of the hives growing angry, their perfect system of order and service suddenly reduced to nothing more than wild, frantic chaos.

Something was very, very wrong. "I'm sorry mary, but I... I have to go check on the bee's!" His face broke out in a sweat as he hastily stumbled back through the kitchen doors and made a mad dash for the gardens.

He sprinted across the grass as fast as he could, the pain in his body now utterly eclipsed by the sound of his terrified children. He completely ignored all the lazing monks littered throughout the gardens, even sprinting mere inches away from the large feathered creature and it's guardian without saying a single word. He almost tripped over himself as he came to a sudden halt in the middle of the hives.

By now the aggitated sound of the swarm had reached deafening levels. His head was throbbing with the sound of their loud panicked buzzing. He stumbled from hive to hive looking for some clear indication of danger but finding none. Eventually, with the sound of chaos tearing through his head, he dropped to his knees there on the grass and let out an ear splitting scream that seemed to go on forever.
 
At once, the gryphon leapt forwards as if he'd spotted prey in the grass, the might bound taking him several feet forward to land first on his forepaws before his rear slam to the ground as well. His feathers ruffled, standing on end and making him seem larger, and somehow softer.

"Excellent!" he roared, and threw his head back to let out a series of strange shrill, musical chirps. Was it... laughing? "Excellent, Brother Al! Watch as you may; I shall be on my best behaviour! I have not been inside save for our first trek through the halls; they fit me well, with some crouching!"

His tail flit wildly behind him, and he hunched down towards the grass slightly, just enough to wriggle like a cat stalking a mouse. And then he stopped, stood back to his full height, and cleared his throat with a growl.

"That is to say, I am grateful for this opportunity to meet the others. And do not worry, I am mostly house trained."

A pause.

"...That was also humor, Brother Al."
 
Zato considered the amount of time that had passed.
"Mary, I need to start making dinner right now" he said to her.

"Would you like to stay here while I work?"
 
"Is it that late already?" she hadn't really been able to keep track, after the incident she'd lost all sense of time passing...

"C-could I help?" she looked up at the blind monk, her hands grabbing one of his,

"I don't know how to make anything...but I could bring you things, that would help, right?"

she just wanted to be around someone, she didn't want to be alone, what if the air began to hurt again, what if it happened and there was no-one there to help her...

"Even if I can't help, I-I'd like to stay in here with you..."
 
"I sincerely hope you mean the mere mention of the fact was humor, not the actual import. Hospitality will only extend so far. Come along now." Entering the halls is somewhat refreshing. The other guards and monks going about their business are a sight for sore eyes when one has spent the better part of a day in company of an otherworldly beast. The news of the temple's newest resident seems to have taken the temple by storm. Quite a few heads poke out of rooms as Al leads the gryphon toward the dining hall. "Behold our humble mess!" He proclaims, opening the great doors and leading Swiftbeak inside. Meal preparation seems to have barely begun but a few temple-goers are idly chatting in small groups.
 
"Of course you can help, if you'd like to" Zato smiled.
"Let me think..... first, we'll have to peel some potatoes" Zato said, as he collected a bucketful from the statue. He collected a pair of knives and offered her one.
 
The gryphon trotted along behind Al like a loyal pet, its head held high and its gait steady; by any guess it seemed to be in good spirits compared to when it first arrived, and that only continued as it entered the temple again. The shade within and the long, ornate hallways were a welcome change from the garden, and Swiftbeak surveyed every door, every turn they passed with excited curiosity; only occasionally did he duck his head back behind Al, when one of those watching him from another room stared too long, or with too much hostility.

"This is quite an incredible place; I had dreamt how it must have looked since I was a boy, and to walk its halls now..." He sounded absolutely elated, and though it was much like his attempt to talk to Mary- A cheerful canter made disturbing by the creature's growl- it certainly seemed sincere. He stopped at the doors to the mess hall and his head began to bob to the left and right as if caught in the flow of unheard music.

Brother Al swung the doors open, and in an instant the creature bounded in. "It is wondrous!" Even the small crowd that had formed in anticipation of dinner had him rushing from table to table, his beak tilted up to take in every scent it could. "So many people, so many stories; no arrows to duck, to blades to run from..."

There was a great clatter behind him as his tail knocked a cup to the ground; he spun at the noise, and his turning body swept the tail across the table to send several plates clattering after it. He jumped in place, quickly tucking his tail tight between his legs. "Oh! My apologies, sincerely; my greatest apologies, sir, I-" He began backing up, away from the table, but with the space between them made for humans it was only three of his long paces before he bumped into a chair unseen behind him, and sent it to the ground as well. Another jump, and he twisted his head to look behind him.

"B-brother Al, I am sorry; this is... This is new to me. Being around others, being around furnishings. Please-" Swiftbeak tried to pick one of the plates he'd toppled off the ground, but his massive talons did nothing but impale the ceramic and shatter it into fragments. After that, he simply sat down on his haunches near the door and inhaled a deep, calming breath.

"I am sorry. Please do not make me go outside. I will be still."
 
she takes the knife and slowly tries to remove the skin.

once, twice, three times...

the knife blade skims over the skin without so much as scratching it.

The small girl frowns...

She pushes harder, and down further...

it cuts neatly into two pieces and falls onto the table.

she looks up at the blind monk tears forming in her eyes as she holds back sobs.

"M-Mister Zato, I-I can't do it..."
 
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