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Forbidden Temple of the Great Falls

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"Yes Mister Zato..."

she released her grip on his habit and followed him back to the kitchen.

She had come across two of the monks when it had happened, but they couldn't do anything, they weren't able to stop it, but Mister Zato would have been able to, he'd always been there to help her, he could fix anything.
 
This was not right. No matter how hard he tried to sleep, even having shed his armor along with the cloth, Morr could simply not sink into a merciful slumber. It was not right. That feeling of doubt kept nagging on him.

Until he could take it no longer. He rose. He would not find sleep this night.

It took him almost half an hour till he successfully put the last piece of his armor on, the screeching of some of the plates telling him he would have to undertake the acts of maintenance soon enough.
But not now.

Being in his armor made him feel somewhat assured again, at least. Probably came from the fact that it was quite the possibility he would die in it. At least, that would be the only way for him to die.
He understood, he was delaying. Idle thoughts to delay the question.

Was this right? Was this good? Helping the lower class citizens sounded like a noble goal on... paper, but what he had seen so far...
It should not surprise him, he supposed, following the path of goodness, the purpose, was not supposed to be easy, nor had it ever been said that both sides were not supposed to have reasons, good reasons.

But, somehow it occurred to him that, in this case, both sides had more evil reasons, the citizens wanting to slaughter the nobles to make an example and fortify their rule, or the nobles wanting to forever oppress the citizens. Or was he overlooking something? Something that would doubtlessly shed light on...
No, it was not supposed to be easy.

As he beheld the decorated walls, he understood he would not be able to think the matter through properly here. He needed to see...
He grasped that resolve, making his way for the door-

Only for it to open on its own, making him stop.

"Sir Morr, I had hoped you-" he recognized the voice of the merchant's daughter, Angelika "- were up and about." she was holding a candle to grant herself sight, the light casually illuminating a horrendousely inefficient article of clothing hugging her figure tightly, how was this thing supposed to grant her warmth in a night like this?

It did not matter "I must excuse myself, milady, but there are... pressing matters that I need to resolve." He said, walking straightforward out of the opened door, leaving her, stupefied about something, behind.
 
A few minutes later and the potatoes were mashed, and the beef was placed onto a series of platters, to be served with rice and the mashed potatoes.
Then it was a matter of trolleying the food into the kitchen, and making sure the leg of venison found its way to the griffin. A normal plate wouldn't work, so it was placed onto a large, wooden cutting board.
Soon, dinner began, and people began to file in to fill bellies and trade stories.
 
As Zato placed down the last platter, he chose a seat at random, grabbing a plate of food, and oblivious to the large griffon about five feet away.
 
She helped carry in the food, placing it upon the tables where she had been told to.

She sat down, next to Zato, she didn't want to sit near the relic, but otherwise she'd be on her own again, and she didn't think she could do it again, more importantly she didn't want to.

besides here she could make sure the relic didn't harm him, she'd never forgive it if it did...

she tried not to look at it, but it was right there,

she attempted to talk to Zato about the food, about anything.

but it was right there...
 
"M-my throat still hurts..."

which was true, but not the reason she wasn't talking,

how could she, it would listen, it would pry, if the relics were as naughty as she'd been lead to believe the why was one allowed in the dinner room?
 
"Like Ice Cream and warm Honey?" she begins to beam, it's her favourite food...

she stops chewing and turns to look at the blind monk

"I'm sure it would make my throat feel better..."
 
Al's rebuke saw the gryphon's ears swivel back and his head droop until his beak-tip touched the table with the clack of keratin on wood, and he abruptly looked to the right while the monk finished talking. He answered with sad resignation.

"Of course, Brother Al; I apologize. So long bereft of companionship I am a bit over-eager for a friend. But just as you shall never fly, I shall be ever alone. I am sorry to hear of your sad beginnings; I have seen children of the street fall to crime or an early end. That you've risen to such prestige makes me envious."

Looking back to the left at the sound of footsteps, the approach of a guard with a bloodied haunch of venison drew an excited 'skrrrrk' from the gryphon; he saw out of the corner of his vision Mary and Zato sat nearby. Not knowing that it was the blind monk who chose the table, the creature couldn't help but feel some small surge of happiness; perhaps the girl was less afraid of him, now? It was such a short time, but his desire for acceptance led him to put this out of his mind; not wanting to endanger his chance to reassure her, he quickly hid his gruesome meal by placing a foot upon the table.

"Ah, hello, Mary!" Again, the same too-cheerful, too-animal voice. "I am... happy you chose to sit beside me." He paced his words slowly, letting the girl grow accustomed to hearing him speak as best he could. "I felt bad earlier, when you were scared. Have you been at the Temple long?"
 
The small girl sits thinking of her treat for a short while, before being interrupted by a strange voice,

she quickly turns to look at it's source, the relic, her body automatically shifting to hide behind Zato (for he is seated slightly nearer to the creature)

She had to answer, she didn't want to but had to, you always had to talk back when someone said hello, Mister Zato had taught her that...

"...A-as long a-as I can remember..."
 
He saw. Passing by the numerous... hovels, undeserving of the term 'house', he saw them. Families, celebrating the encroaching new rule, the victory that would bring them freedom soon.
He saw, nothing had actually changed. All he had actually been able to give them was hope. The hope that everything would be better, they only had to follow their icon of hope. Where he would command, they would follow. If he commanded them the greatest of crimes to do, they would fulfill his command without question.

Or, was he perhaps too demanding of them, like he had been for his recruits at the Pass? Too demanding for their goodness? Was he even remotely capable of understanding what these people had been through that it had made them this desperate for hope, for an icon, for a hero?

Who was in the right here? The noble class... their actions spoke through the decay and fear around him. The lower class... their actions were, in a way, the consequence of the negligence of the noble class.

But, was that enough? Such blind hatred and hope could only lead to doom.

Who was he to stand for, who to follow, who...

Or, perhaps yet, he was overcomplicating. No one here was following the path of goodness, no one was truly in the right. And they would not cooperate, the nobles having barricaded themselves in their part of the town, nor would diplomacy have any power in a situation where emotion was being controlled like this.

Thus, both sides were wrong, the civilians to prefer killing, the nobles to prefer their old methods that led to this disaster.

Thus, both sides were, by goodness, the purpose he had to follow...
those he had to oppose.
 
Al had tensed as the gryphon suddenly jumped a taloned limb onto the table; but he saw it as merely to spare Mary the sight of its meal. -Damn that Zato, his blindness may have caused Mary some discomfirt!- But Al knew it was wrong to think such. The gryphon had started talking to Mary now. The tone it used was probably an attempt to be charming. But to Al it sounded sickeningly like the voice of a monster whose dinner had wandered right up without any effort at all. Like some kind of cautionary fairy tale.
 
The girl's fearful stuttering was not lost on the creature; though he'd become unaccustomed to the finer points of human body language, Mary's discomfort was not subtle. Still, on the misguided premise that it was she who chose the seat, he could only think she was trying, valiantly, to face her fears- Perhaps even for his sake?

"That is a long time. You must be very brave to help keep the temple safe. And to talk to me." He lowered his head to rest atop his paw already on the table, bringing him closer to Mary's eye-level. He noticed now the face of the blind monk, and familiarity struck him. "Do you take care of Brother Zato?"

His attention was focused enough on Mary that Al, at least, had momentarily been spared its clumsy attempts at conversation.
 
"Mister Zato looks after me.." She chews nervously on one of her sleeves.

"Like Mister Al looks after you?"
 
"Oh... does he?" It's now that Swiftbeak realizes with some frustration that Zato, despite his handicap, may have been the once to choose the table; still, he had come too far now to simply bow out of the conversation.

"Y-yes, a little bit like that. Although I do not think Brother Al likes me very much, he is good to me. Is Brother Zato your friend?"
 
after hearing Morr yell out for him, Blake then got up from sitting on the other bed, walked out of the room and told one of the guards to watch over the Alchemist.

when he got to where Morr was, turns out he only got as far as the first room in the patient ward, where Morr was on the bed unconscious, some pieces of the armor Morr wore lay scattered near him, some of the bandages on his chest were bathed in blood, (so that's why he came back here) Blake thought as he began to check the wounds.

After he got done with the usual bout of removing bandages, checking the wound to see if it is worse {turns out he only ripped the scab a bit}, then cleanned the wound, bandaged it back up and went to one of the guards and told him to go get him some food, Blake then went over to one of the chairs and sat down to watch over the Knight.
 
"y-yes, Mister Zato is my best friend..."

it was true, he'd always been there for her, for as long as she could remember, which wasn't long, she was only little...

The relic worried her, but if Mister Al was taking care of it then it shouldn't be able to hurt anyone.

Maybe Mister Wolfram would like to hear about her talk with the relic, he liked relics, she remembered Mister Zato saying that when Mister Wolfram was young he didn't play or have fun, he just looked after the relics.

Mary pondered what not having fun would be like, she didn't like it...
 
The obvious discomfort he was causing the girl had begun to weigh heavy on Swiftbeak's heart; his desire for friendship shouldn't come at her expense. Still, it wasn't feasible to avoid seeing her for the entirety of his time here, and whatever could be done to acclimate her to his presence would ultimately help her. At least, he hoped it would. To that end, a bit of honesty seemed to be in order.

"Mary, do I scare you still?" he asked, trying to sound simply curious rather than accusatory.
 
Al silently ate his dinner, watching the gryphon make disturbingly friendly attempts at the child. He would rather not have the beast anywhere near the girl, but nor would he have her frightened constantly. It was vexing him greatly.
 
"W-well, you're a relic... I-I'm not supposed to play with the relics, everyone says they're dangerous..."
 
The creature blinked once, slowly.

"A... relic? You mean an... artefact?" Had the girl thought that he himself was one of the demon-possessed objects housed in the temple? He was twisted by the power of one, certainly, but...

"I am not a relic." Again, trying to sound friendly, but he was so surprised by Mary's statement that couldn't help but have some of his shock come through in his words. "I was changed by one. Perhaps like Wolfram's arm. But I myself am..." What was he? A monster? Once a man? "...am not a relic."

But... was he dangerous? That was certainly the crux of the matter. He had not harmed anyone yet, but his time here had been exceedingly short; he fell into his own thoughts, staring at and beyond Mary while he pondered just how great a threat he posed to her.
 
"o-oh..." she was confused, the relic hurt people, but it wasn't a person, it didn't look anything like person

but it didn't look in pain either, and the relics just hurt people, yes that's what she'd been told...

"But you don't look like you're hurt" she asked the creature.
 
"I'm not..." He left out the healing arrow-wounds hidden beneath his feathers; the story of his contentious arrival would likely have only made her fear him more. But, still, in a way...

"Not hurt like a cut or a bruise, at least. I am a different kind of hurt. Have you ever been alone before, with nobody to talk to? Or had somebody go away because they didn't like you?"
 
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