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Forbidden Temple of the Great Falls

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Beholding the gryphon with impassive calmness as he always did, Morr was about to respond to the cursed being only to be interrupted by the offer of sister Vanessa to join the journey.

Looking down at her through the cold lenses of his helmet, Morr had to clarify, his tone without emotion as ever "Certainly, sister Vanessa, you are aware of the dangers this mission will entail? Are you truly certain that it is your wish to accompany us on this quest?"

While allowing her some time to think, Morr turned to the gryphon, saying "The purpose allows me the time and I will answer all your questions to the best of my abilities, state your queries."
 
Vanessa held her head high looking very serious when she stated "Yes I do but it does not scare me for I know i will helping others and if it means putting my life at risk so be it ". She looked from brother Morr to the gryphon that would be coming along then added "After all you guys got to eat right".

She hoped she did not sound to much like she was joking around for in fact she was not. she just wanted to talk them into letting her come. She knew there was high stakes but she already killed someone and sees her family fight to the death by her uncle who sold his soul to the devil. She will not let anyone die if she could help it for she did not want to see more blood shed like that.
 
The gryphon acknowledged the girl with a nod; though inwardly he thought it perhaps foolish that a live cook would be taken on a campaign rather than rations. Idle thoughts were swept away as he addressed Morr.

"Have you considered where upon a ship a creature of my size might stay? In addition, have you considered my role in battle? My wings afford me an advantage, but I can carry no man; anything I do from the air would be en exercise in vulnerability. I come forth with these concerns as I do not wish to be a liability to you or your men, but I am confess I am curious- I myself am not of a tactical bent, and am rather perplexed as to how I might serve in battle."

This voiced, he spoke to Vanessa: "I eat chiefly raw meat, but your consideration is appreciated."
 
Morr paused a few moments to stare at sister Vanessa, before nodding at her words, stating "I understand, the call of goodness has reached you and the unstoppable might that is one's morality answers. No more is needed to brave evil and villainy no matter its form. It shall be an honor travelling with you, sister."

Nodding again, he shifted his focus towards sir Swiftbeak "To be honest with you, sir Swiftbeak, I call you thus for your past makes you worthy of this title, I am probably the first man to ever command someone with the ability to fly and, theoretically at least, also attack from air. You would be right to assume that your services as a scout would be invaluable, though I cannot say that I could presume to rightly know how to make proper use of your abilities in direct battle, though your claws and beak may rend, you are illl-suited to wear armor and thus remain vulnerable.

As about the ship, Wolfram allowed us a generous sum of funds and, while I cannot say that I have much experience about naval engagements, certainly in Pikewall there must be someone that could advise us in this matter."

Morr paused again, thinking, before saying "Besides that, always remember, sir Swiftbeak, that one cannot be a liability if one serves goodness." Nodding at both sister Vanessa and sir Swiftbeak again, he added "If you have further questions, you will be able to find me at the beehives, I wish to honor brother Vernasus's memory."

With these words he departed.
 
Fairly raiding his inventory, and taking a handful of notebooks, both completed and blank, Valetni slammed the chest shut. The self contained gas protection respiratory apparatus, he would have to come up with a shorter name one of these days, lay under his robes. He had practiced donning the mask time and time again until he was confident that he could quickly and efficiently get the mask into place, even in the dark.

Valetni had always disdained fighting, preferring to use his intelligence and guile to solve situations, but even he knew that violence was sometimes acceptable. With that in mind, he slipped a spring crossbow into his pack. Not very accurate, it was about the size of his forearm and used a steel spring to launch a metal dart at quite high velocity. Sadly, the extreme lack of accuracy at anything beyond ten feet or so and the difficulty in reloading it had meant that it would never replace a true crossbow, but it had been a neat little technology demonstrator that Valetni had cobbled together some years ago. He always had the idea that he could possibly coat the dart in some sort of fast acting venom. Besides, it was concealable, and nobody who didn't know of it would expect anything like it.

He also took a knife with him, a short utility knife, single edged and with a slight curve to it. It would be useful for cutting up his meals, if nothing else. If he was ever in a situation where he had to use it, well, Valetni just hoped he was never in a situation where he had to use it.

He patted down his robes, searching for journal fifty eight, his current one. Frowning, he opened up the trunk, flipping through the volumes withing growing alarm. Leaving the trunk open, he dashed, as best he was able, down the stairs, frantically checking drawers. He had lost his journal. If someone were to find it, and read what he had written... Valetni felt a sudden stab of panic run though him, forget poisoning the library, this would get him exiled for sure. And if he was exiled from the temple and its resources, his plan would never be completed. After several moments he managed to calm himself down, he had to simply retrace his steps, play it cool, and act like nothing was wrong.

Valetni unlocked the door, calling Riley inside. The youth grunted as he began to drag the trunk under constant admonishing from Valetni to be more careful.
 
Half-way to his target, Morr took a slight bend, now walking the route that would bring him to the hospice, rather than the beehives. There was another pressing matter he was forced to attend.

Soon arriving, he carefully opened the door seperating the hospice from the rest of the temple, he called out to the man he sought "Brother Blake, are you here?"
 
in mid transit to his room Blake hears the Knight known as Morr call out to him, He turns back towards the lobby where Morr was standing, wondering what said Knight needed from him

"yes i am here Morr, now what do you need? if it's because you ended up killing someone, i will not help you bury the body" he said half jokingly to Morr
 
Unable to properly understand the joking tone of Blake, Morr said "I would never murder a man that it would be needed I hide my deed, even though it would still not be justified." He said, sternly "You were in the dining hall this morning, thus you heard of the quest Wolfram tasked me with. Preparations are going along well, but we are sorely lacking professional medicinical aid."

Looking at brother Blake vehemently, Morr continued "Brother Blake, I trust your abilities in that regard beyond that of anyone else I know in this field. Please, I simply must ask you to accompany us in this journey."
 
listening to what the knight said to him, Blake responded with "ok first off, you need to learn how to lighten up. second off just grab any orderly here, the're all trained how to properly heal battle wounds and the like, i've made sure of that"
 
Taking a deep breath, Morr answered "I am sorry, it was not my wish to offend you. Certainly you are right in regards to the orderlies, brother Blake, but I fear that for this quest to succeed, no mere orderly's ability can match yours. If you do not accompany us, I fear the possible number of casualties will rise.

I must ask you, have any of these men and women here..." he gestured to the aforementioned "Been in a true battle before? Could they, perhaps, under the most hindering of circumstances like panic and general chaos, treat a wounded without, mayhaps, making a fatal mistake?"
 
"well... there's no true combat experience like personally being in a battle themselves, and besides people die in combat all the time, it's a fact of life, and besides. you can give them some battle expertise, after all you were a crusader, there has to be some sort of training you can give them while you're on your quest" Blake responded back to the Knight trying to recruit him on said quest
 
"Brother Blake, I find it appalling-" he didn't feel anything "-that you state the fact that people die in battle as reason not to help them. Helping those in need should not depend on either facts nor reason."

Morr sighed, the weariness returning "I see I can not persuade you. May I at least ask you to choose the one of the orderlies you would deem the most suitable for this quest?"
 
"i hope that one day you'll understand my reasons for why i shield away from war nowadays" Blake said to Morr

Blake walked to the entrance to the entrance of the patient hall and yelled out "ELIA! GET OVER HERE!" and walked back to where Morr was.

after a few seconds a fairly young woman with dirty blonde hair and fair skin wearing the cloths of an Apothecary lightly jogged into the lobby to report to him

Blake:"Morr this is Elia Parov, she is the most experienced member who i believe will be of most use on your quest"

Elia:"sir? what you talking about?" she said a bit confused

Blake:"Elia you're going on a quest, do not argue with me on this, I've made my decision." he then gestured to Morr and then said "you will report to him during this quest, make sure he succeeds in any way necessary."

she began to open her mouth but stopped and nodded understandably at the man who taught her skills she needed to survive
Elia:"i will get my things and be ready to go" she then ran back to her room to pack, barley containing her excitement to go on an adventure

Blake waited until she went out of sight and then turn to the Knight and said "make sure she gets back in one piece and alive" trusting in the knight's skills and then quickly said "is there anything else you need, Morr?"
 
Shaking his head, Morr answered "No, there is not. And perhaps in this particular regard we may never be able to understand eachother, brother Blake. Nonetheless, I thank you for the help your provided, tell sister... Elia that she is to meet us tomorrow after the morning meal in the lobby. A good day yet to you, brother Blake." bowing his helmeted head courtly, Morr departed, this time going straight for the beehives without delay.
 
Whoosh.
Crack.
Thud.

The branches fell, severed from their tree by a sharp hunk of metal called an axe.

Urist put his axe down and picked up the branches, putting them into a sack, and then stood, again picking up his tree-cutting implement, and walked back to the road.

And so he looked to the horizon, seeing the shape of a mountain in the distance. "I wunner, 's that a buildin' up on that there mountain?" he asked himself. "Ey, might even be a mine, I bets. An' if it be a mine, I thinks I could find me some gold up in there, cos' that's what mines make."

He set off down the road, continuing his rather noisy thinking. "Gems, too. Ought t' be gems, since they comes from the ground too. I likes me some gems, they's worth a whole pile o' coppers, an' I likes me some coppers, cos'..."

He picked up his pace, setting off for that mountain up there.
 
when Morr departed, Blake chuckled a little bit at what he said about understanding each other and all that good stuff and then walked over to his apprentice's room to talk to her.

when he entered her room, she was in the middle of packing her equipment, he knocked on her door and said to her "you're not going 'till tomorrow after breakfast, so take your time in packing" she sighed in relief and said back to him "thank you master," she then added "i wonder what is the goal of the quest" he smirked and said "can you keep a secret?" she nodded, he then said "the secret was that i was not really listening to what the quest was, other than the fact that it was a quest and Morr needed a Battle Medic. and one of the reasons that you're going and i'm not is that i'm needed here just in case someone attacks the temple." Elia waited a couple of seconds and said to him "and the second reason?" Blake then answered with "because i truly believe that you're ready for the next steps of your training, you'll won't learn anything new other than what is taught on the battlefield."

Elia took a few seconds to think about what Blake said, and then said to him "i understand master, i'll try my best to make sure this quest succeeds" Blake responded with a smile "you can stop calling me master, just call me Blake or Sir if you're still going to be polite Elia" he then gave her a pat on the shoulders and walked to the door and said nonchalantly "when you meet the Alchemist known as Valetni, give him back his book and his apprentice's ring. also before you ask how i saw it, you're not as sneaky as you think" she blushed a tiny bit at what her teacher said while Blake left to go back to the Hospice
 
Vanessa turned to the Gryphon saying "well then I will make sure we have plenty of raw meat for you to eat in the mean time i think its close to lunch time and i must get my things ready for lunch as well as the quest tomorrow".

She left the gryphon with a smile and headed up to her room. Once she got there she changed into her Maids outfit and ran a brush thou her hair getting herself ready for lunch. She then headed to the kitchen thinking steak for dinner sounds pretty good right now. She got to the kitchen and started the steak and decided on vegetables and mashed potatoes to go with it. she then made cheese cake for desert. She finished cooking and making desert that she started setting the table.

Once every thing was set including the raw meat for the gryphon on his table. She went back into the kitchen and drug out sacks upon sacks. She then Starting putting food in them for the trip she would only take a months worth of food as money as well if she needed more food then that she would go to town or see about some of the men hunting for her. she wished she had some weapons to take with her so she could do the hunting herself or defend herself but this would do for now. She would go upstairs and pack her cloths to night along with her self made battle outfit of light leather . she manged to get all the blood off of it with out staining it but once they see in her in battle she might not be able to hide her past from them (well i worry about that later) she thought to herself.
 
Urist drew ever closer to the building he had set out for, and he finally got a good look at it.

"Funny lookin' mine, that is, all fancy 'n all." he commented, reaching the pathway upwards. "Must be cos' they's got lots o' riches, an' they can afford t' live all fancy." He started up, observing the waterfall, the scale of the building, and the surrounding land, commenting on how strange a mine this was.

Finally, Urist reached the gate of the Monastery. "Well, how did ya' steal riches, again?" he mumbled, scratching his head "Well, Sankis 'd always say that first ye had t' wait til' night, then ye went in through a winnow..." he looked for windows, then at the sun, then rubbed his eyes because he'd looked at the sun. "Ah, 'ell with it. I'll do th' easy thin', them miners can' be as good s' me 'n a fight, cos' they have this here big coward 'ate t' hide behind..."

He grabbed his axe, took a stance, and made a mighty swing at the gate.

CLANG

The gate was barely dented. "Oi, they must be REAL bad fighters, if 'ey 'ave such a fancy 'ate..."

He readied for another swing at the Monastery gate.
 
Setting a heavy hand on the gravestone, or rather memorial considering that Vernasus's actual body was put into the tombs, Morr was overcome with some nostalgia, remembering when he saw the hives after whatever had killed Vernasus also quite damaged the hives, now regenerated, the worker bees, as he had learned, working at the behest of the queen, gathering resources.

Slaves from birth, or so it would seem, as well as slaves in death. A moral debate could perhaps be taken from this, could such selfless living truly be called slavery?

Alas, such controversy seemed sometimes so easy to answer, in theory: the purpose demanded, their purpose demanded, thus they followed, thus he followed. In a way, he was closer to these beings than to a human one, he supposed. If he had looked into a mirror, what would he have seen? A suit of plate armor, on its side a sword. From afar, nothing else, it mattered little what was inside this suit, only that the purpose of the armor, together with the sword was fulfilled.

All in all, what was required was sheer muscle.

He had to realize, there was nothing left of him. He had no personal items, no memorials, he had sold off all his personal belongings long ago, was still highly indebted, almost starved to death several times as a result. Involuntarily setting a mailed hand onto his helmet's visor, he also no longer could say that he even possessed that what a human would call a face and, metaphorically speaking, identity.

There was nothing that could yet be taken from him. He no longer even possessed belief, neither in himself nor the purpose. And this was also why he was the demon's and evil's utter bane, because nothing could be taken from him, nothing about him yet possible to be corrupted, his mere purpose was set in goodness. One was not capable of taking a purpose, one might fail at it, but it can never be taken.
Perhaps it was this single certainty that had left him going in his life, even before... before his daughter, but that would have been nothing but cynicism. No, when he had been younger yet, questing, atoning, so full of belief, knowing that his work made the world a better place.

It was not wrong, certainly not. The pathetic state he was currently in, the one that makes him unable to look at a little girl in need and feel that simple wish to protect her against whatever the world and its foul gods may throw at her, instead only to see an object, thus knowing how wrong this was and then, as a result, the self-hate, that was wrong.

And he could no longer even feel anger about this.
 
Geoffrey was not one of the fastest Temple Guards. Not because he would have let himself go substantially more than the other guards, but rather that he was simply of an overall calm mind, almost to the point of being incapable of understanding just how someone could fall into a full blown panic.
Even if he was technically time-pressed he simply refused to increase his step from his usual calm gait. Just as the case was now.

The huge man who was ineffectually wailing away at the temple's small side-gate may have been found as a matter of some concern by other guards.

Geoffrey, however, standing on the wall above the solid gate, looking down at the huge man, calmly, to the uncareful listener almost absentmindedly, said, volume of his voice just enough for the man down there to clearly hear "Hello there, traveler. While I don't have the slightest of ideas just what you are actually trying to accomplish, you do appear quite weary. Now, I would first suggest that you let that obviousely demonic axe of yours there fall, some people in this Temple would take some offense to you trying to beat down our nice gate here with that.
Second, please do try to just call someone if you want this thing opened. That is all, now please do as said."

Just as calmly as spoken, Geoffrey loaded a crossbow and, aim unwavering, was ready to fire a good steel-tipped-bolt through the man's braincage.
 
Urist was vaguely aware of a man on a wall speaking to him, something about temples and demons and travelers. Mining fer demons? Mining fer templ's? None o' them comes from the ground, an' none o' them's gold... he thought, almost loud enough to hear.

He paid this man little heed until he glanced up and noticed the glint of metal. A bow'a some kind? Damned, 'adn't 'spected ey'd be this prepared.

Urist drew back his axe into a rather ineffectual block, confident that he could stop an arrow or a bolt.
 
Shrugging, Geoffrey calmly fired the bolt, resulting in a long, precise cut across the other man's arm holding the axe, before he reloaded and again took his time to choose his target, calmly aiming for the leg "No crying, please, just cease all hostilities. The next shot goes into your leg, after that I'll just wait till you bleed out, then get some artifact retrievers here." he calmly smiled at the man.
 
Urist heard the bowsting go, and saw the bolt coming.

In the time he had, he took a mighty, two-handed swing, aiming to cut the bolt right out of the air.

He failed this terribly, and the his axe lodged itself a remarkable distance into the Monastery wall, while the bolt lodged itself in his exposed arm. That were me good arm, too. His arm was searing with pain, and he knew he was in a bad spot.

So Urist did what he knew best after fighting, taking a moment to regain his composure and take a deep breath. "I DIDN'T NEED THAT ARM 'NYWAYS! I'LL KILL YA' ALL WITH ME BAD ARM, AN' TAKE -ALL- TH' GOLD IN YER' SILLY LITTLE DEMON MINE!" he roared, reaching into his pack with his working arm, and withdrawing the first thing he could reach, a pile of sticks, and wildly threw it at the man on the wall.
 
Calmly registering how the man despite having his leading arm and hand temporarily disabled and having lost his weapon, still was ready, if obviousely not able, Geoffrey calmly walked down the wall via the asorted stairs about fifteen steps to the right, making a small detour to the tavern to get himself a drink to get calmer through the day, before making the five minute journey back to his gate, opening it after about fifteen minutes of absence to the sight of the huge man laying unconscious in a pool of his own blood at his feet now.

Calmly, Geoffrey pulled the man, leaving the axe where it lay for now, into the outermost walls of the temple, bandaged his wounds to prevent him from dying for now, before departing to bring a proper doctor as well as more guards for the safe retrieval of the axe.
 
The gryphon could not smile back at Vanessa, though he attempted to; the resultant beak gape looked hungry. And creepy. He let her depart before he himself left for the open air of the temple gardens.

Swiftbeak made his way to the hasty tent that Brother Al had put up for him; to its credit, it had withstood three months of weather and sun. It was only truly now that it had hit him: This was his home. Not the tent itself, but the temple; for three months he had skulked about, each day feeling alternately like a guest or a guardian or a prisoner or a curiosity, but never had he truly felt like a resident. But now, amidst the buzzing of the bees that had become as unforgettable to him as the sound of his own paws, he realized that each day things had gotten a little more familiar. Be it the lessening suspicion, or his growing recognition of the many hallways in the temple, or even just being on hand when others had grieved Vernassus, the temple was now as much a part of him as he was of it; whether the others felt the same way he did not know, nor would he dare to ask, for ultimately a small part of him still feared the answer. But if ever a chaos-tainted creature such as himself were to know peace before death, if ever to know friendship, it would be here; and at that moment the great gryphon bowed its head, touching its beak to the ground, and whispered a silent prayer to the temple's buzzing goddess- For if she had not bestowed upon him this great gift, this forgiveness, then who had? No; this was no mere chance, no mere fluke that he had lived through the hail of arrows that greeted his arrival here. In his heart, below the great muscle warped by monstrous magics to beat to the rhythm of his wings, there remained something human, still- Something that sought answers. That sought faith. And, in the grand fortune he'd had at the temple, found it.

But the world does not stop nor even slow for one man's epiphany, no matter how ground he felt it; Swiftbeak heard from one of the walls a yell, and a short time later the tell-tale sound of a taught string being released. It was the bowshot that prompted him to take flight, and in a few mighty flaps he had carried himself off the ground and launched himself towards the wall; he caught the inside edge near Geoffrey with his talons, and scraped the claws of his hindpaws along the stone to carry the entirety of his body to the top. By now the guard was already departing with the wounded man, and a glint on the ground caught the creature's eye.

"I will secure the axe. There is nothing more demon power can do to me."
 
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