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Forbidden Temple of the Great Falls

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The wing hitting him full-force in the face, the madman staggered back, gurgling as he spat filed teeth out of a ruined mouth, or rather maw with lines of unnaturally sharp protrusions, those lost immediately replaced by new ones while he grinned, shouting "OH YOU LITTLE BITCH! YOU JUST GOT MY MURDER ON FULL!" before again charging at the gryphon, though slightly unsteadily in his gait this time.

The Hellguard meanwhile had finally managed to ready her crossbow, taking aim, the dazed bloodloss-induced feeling turning this into an extreme task, she fired at the madman, willing to at least take this one with her before her end.
 
Swiftbeak watched in astonishment as bloodied teeth pushed through the man's gums, and knew with certainty now that he was not the only monster here today. The unexpected display gave the gryphon enough pause that the brute began its unsteady charge uncontested. Enough momentum to send the sword through even a thick skull, certainly; Swiftbeak spread his paws and hunched, ready to do whatever he could to deflect or absorb the blow.

And then there was a sharp snap behind him, and the rush of something impossibly fast through the air. The bolt impacted the brute's chest with such force as to drive through his armor and send him staggering back, off-balance; Swiftbeak knew this was his best chance. Leaping forward like a pouncing lion, he cleared the scant distance between himself and his opponent; his right forward talon outstretched to impact the haft of the bolt, hopefully driving it in deeper and sending the man-thing sprawling back, while his left came down on his sword-arm, pinning it to the ground.
 
The sickening crunch of breaking bones announced the madman's injury as the gryphon slammed him to the ground, right arm useless and broken, the broken, rusted armor doing little to keep away the crossbow-bolt and winged creature's forceful impact, him even for his strength physically incapable of remaining standing, coming to a fall under the gryphon's onslaught.
Spitting blood, eyes, which this close Swiftbeak was able to notice that they seemed to shimmer a metallic gold, seeming to literally glint with mad hate, the man nonetheless refused to stop giggling, before he slammed his unnatural teeth into the talon that held his broken arm, digging into the flesh and drawing blood.
His other hand, still concealed under cloth, meanwhile attempted to reach the discarded sword his sword-arm was no longer capable of holding.

The Hellguard meanwhile had let go of her crossbow to desperately press her make-shift bandage onto the bleeding stump of her arm.

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Looking up at the calm, clear sky, Morr could not help but shake the feeling that somethign was amiss. Over the years, some might have thought he would have 'learned to trust this instinct, coming from decades of combat experience after all', though these days he felt it was hard for him to differentiate between what was paranoia and caution, while still standing ready to accept his purpose's demands.

Of course, in this case, even in these Hellguard-controlled lands, caution was advised and paranoia clearly defined, as he asked those travelling with him "Has anyone seen sir Swiftbeak up in the skies? It may be my age getting the better of my vision, but I ordered him to always stay in sight and he does not appear to be the type to disobey orders without good reason."

No one of his subordinates spoke up to tell him they had seen him.
 
Swiftbeak desperately wanted to look back and see if the Hellguard still lived, but did not dare take his eyes off the berserker. Seeing the brute's sword-arm broken, he began to speak.

"Apologize to the lady, and I will kill you qui-"

His words turned into a feral scream of pain as teeth wrenched deep into his talon. His reaction was instinctual; his talon curled inward, talons straining and scraping against armor. The gryphon put little stock in the ability of keratin to pierce metal no matter what strength he put behind it, and so his only option was to bear down with all of his considerable weight on the bolt that had already embedded itself in the man's armor, hoping to drive it straight through his chest and pin him to the ground. With the man's sword-arm already broken (and his other concealed beneath the cloth), the gryphon had a foot free to clamp around his opponent's skull and try with all of his might to wrench it back and tear the teeth from himself.
 
Unwilling to let go without his prize, the man's head was forcibly wrenched away from the claw, taking quite some meat with him as the other talon clamped down on his head, his working arm still blindly reaching for the sword, he soon gave up and instead grabbed the claw that began to tighten around his skull, trying to pry it off.

Teeth audibly clenching onto one another as the wounded Hellguard tried to withstand her pain, she slowly picked up her crossbow again and began to load it anew.

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"Swiftbeak must have noticed something, case may be that he had to act fast without time to alert us. Fasten your pace, as quickly as the wagon allows. Weibel Baletia, form a rearguard of five, yourself included, at our back, have the rest keep ready while taking defensive positions around the wagon." Morr ordered, on his command the expedition taking up in speed up the path that would normally lead to the outpost.
 
Blinding agony ripped up his claw, and he had had enough.

The gryphon brought its massive beak down around the man's one good arm, still desperately tugging at his foot, and snapped it shut. The impact itself did little, his beak not sharp enough to tear metal, but his jaws strained and the old, ill-maintained armor began to crack, creek, and eventually dent, then crumple, and from within it a horrific, crunching snap echoed out. His claw tightened slightly more around the man's head.

Swiftbeak heard the sound of wood scraping on wood, of tightening string. Without turning, he addressed the Hellguard behind him.

"You may kill him, if you wish; I would not deny you your retribution. If you would wish him questioned, however, it may be fortuitous to wait."

And with that the creature lifted its beak and let out a far, keening call; like that of an eagle, but much louder. A moment later, he repeated the scream. With any luck, it would be enough for Morr to follow.
 
Slowly rising, ripped off pieces of cloth forming a tight bond around her stump, breathing heavily, the wounded Hellguard, crossbow finally loaded again, slowly made her way over to the still struggling madman, eyes dazedly set onto the man's face, head barely visible under the talon.
Roughly shoving off the gryphon's claw from the madman, who again opened his mouth to laugh, she immediately slammed the crossbow into his maw and pulled the trigger.
The giggling turning into a bloody choking instead, she pulled back and slammed her boot again and again onto the bolt, kicking it through the man's skull without mercy.

Soon, the golden orbs that were his eyes rolled back in their pits, lower jaw half torn off, forehead cracked open, blood, skullsplinters and gooey brainmatter flowing out.
Breathing heavily, the Hellguard took a few steps back, before sinking to her knees, crossbow still clutched in her remaining hand as she wearily stared at Swiftbeak. Eyes defiantly narrowing, she began to reload again.

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Soon, the expedition was capable of setting their eyes on some sort of carnage in the distance, the form of Swiftbeak easily noticeable though not much else, though it would still take some time till they arrived, time was not a luxury they had "Weibel Belatia, you have command now! Soldat Truckwell, soldat Aron, with me! Sister Elia, I suggest you prepare yourself to provide medical aid soon!"

Riding ahead, the two Hellguards behind him, Morr took to a quick pace. He would arrive in mere minutes.
 
Despite a moment of indignation at being so roughly shoved aside, Swiftbeak was true to his word; he let the woman have her revenge, standing alongside her and watching the man's gory death impassively. He sat on his haunches as she began to reload her crossbow. He did his best to sit noble and proud despite the blood flowing from his wounded claw; scale and skin and flesh was ripped away, there. The injuries to his face appeared less severe if only by virtue of the thick layer of feathers hiding them, but the white down was stained red from his brow to his beak.

"I understand your suspicion, but I do hope my aid was enough to stay your hand until at least the arrival of Sir Morr. Since you are unlikely to trust much of what I have to say, I will leave the explaining to him; I kindly request that you refrain from shooting me, however."

The gryphon's right ear flicked slightly, hearing a shout in the far distance.

"They should be here in a matter of moments. If there is anything I can do to assure you I will not attempt to devour you before they arrive, let me know. You should not be operating that weapon further with your wounded arm, nor am I in any hurry to serve as your target. Something so large as me would be poor practice, in any event."

"...That was a joke."
 
Mary felt the cart begin to move faster, her barrel jumping up and down slightly caused her to bounce around the inside in a fairly violent and exhausting fashion. Then the cart hit a rather large pothole and her barrel tumbled over onto it's side.

The lid popped off, and a few blankets along with the small girls head and shoulders fell out, becoming visible over the lip, as quietly and carefully as she could she pulled the cloth back inside. She slowly crawled out of the barrel to grab the lid from it's resting place on the other side of the cart.
 
Staring at the fantastical creature, suspicion glinting in her eyes behind the helmet while she kept her crossbow trained on the talking - apparently sane - beast, she spoke, her voice betraying labored breathing "Sir... Morr?" pausing, to think, she resumed after a moment "The... the one from the Second Crusade? I had heard he was visitor to the Temple... but why would he suddenly be here? And what about... you? What- what are you? You're not like this..." she nodded to the broken carcass that was once the madman "... thing, but you're not human, why would you help me?"

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Riding as fast as his burdened horse, a strong-legged beast that had been specifically chosen to hold his massive frame even while armored, would allow, the two Hellguards behind him, Morr soon arrived at the place where the battle had occurred, to the sight of a Hellguard, left arm cut away just below the shoulder, fresh blood still dripping from the stump, while her other held one of the iconic Hellguard crossbows, a Hell's Fang as they were called, though rather the lighter variant in this case, comparatively easy to handle, grab from the back and reload, to bring it to the fight quickly when needed, though this one was without the bayonett attached, it seemed, trained upon sir Swiftbeak's head.

Quickly assessing the situation, noticing the apparently human yet highly peculiar carcass, as well as that of a horse further up the path, Morr forced his mount to a stand, his horse straining with the weight upon its back, Morr called out to the Hellguard "Soldat! Stop this now! Sir Swiftbeak stands under my command, if you have a quarrel with him, bring such to me!"

Turning her gaze from the gryphon to look at him, the Hellguard, a woman judging from her voice, spoke "You... are you sir Morr? How- why..." confused, she lowered her crossbow.

Looking at the barely standing Hellguard for a second, Morr turned to the Hellguard on his side "Soldat Truckwell, ride back to the others, have them come here at the fastest pace possible, sister Elia must prepare to administer aid!"

Truckwell nodded, riding off again, Morr turned his cold gaze to the Hellguard Aron "I am only a man of the sword, I fear. Soldat Aron, all Hellguards are trained with the most basic of medical aid, grant whatever help you can."
Nodding she dismounted and approached the other Hellguard to help.

Setting his helmeted view on sir Swiftbeak, Morr finally asked "I fear she is currently much too weakened to properly respond, tell me, what happened here exactly?" inspecting him, he added "I can see that you are injured, I will have sister Elia take care of it, but I must ask, what villainy occurred here?" throwing a glance at the humanoid carcass, he resumed "A demon attacking, in the land controlled by the Hellguard?"
 
Zato hear a small crash from his seat as a barrel fell. He shifted across the wagon, and felt it. Strangely, the lid stayed secure. He sifted it upright. Judging from the mass inside shifting, it felt like one large object, rather than a multitude of small ones, or even a powder such as flower. Strange indeed......
Though, without much to do besides sit and drink, Zato was already a little drunk. He dismissed it, and sat back down, taking another sip from one of his jugs he brought.
 
Somewhat bitter that the guards had refused to play dice games with him, Urist looked out of the wagon towards his destination. Maybe there would be a bar, or somewhere he could get a knife.

He missed his boot-knife.
 
Vanessa gripped the side of the wagon asit speed on and jolting her all around. She had her dagger in her lap ready to fight if need be. she smelt blood and the memory of seeing her family laying in their own blood flashed back to her. she had a hint of fear and anger in her eyes.
 
The gryphon remained motionless, aware that even the slightest movement could be interpreted as the beginning of an attack. Strangely, as much as he knew the bolt would easily pierce his skull, he had trouble fearing the woman- Beaten, bloodied, grounded... Despite the weapon, she looked much like the doe he had killed not long ago. This thought drifted lazily into his head, and was struck down with fury by much of his being. Worryingly, not all of it...

"Since I am certain 'It is a long story' will not suffice, I will give you the briefest version I can: I was a man, once; I had my body twisted against my will by something sinister, though my mind is as it ever was. I aided you because you were in peril from an obviously malicious assailant."

The sound of hooves on dirt came racing across the ground. He waited until the knight had caught the wounded woman's attention before speaking. Ideally, Morr's presence would be enough to stay her trigger-hand, so long as nobody did nor said anything monumentally stupid. Thankfully, Valetni was still some ways away. He turned to Morr exclusively, not so much as acknowledging the two Guard that had rode with him.

"Ah, Sir Morr." Though the Hellguard would have been unable to tell, Morr's familiarity with Swiftbeak would make him privy to the stunted, pained hiss underpinning his words; his verbosity now was to shield his dignity, for as long as he spoke he did not scream, nor whimper. His efforts to keep a regal bearing in the face of his injuries were admirable in their extent, but not total, as between each sentence he paused to draw in a long, seething breath.

"From above, I had spotted that... man... on the ground mauling this woman. I was too slow to save her arm, I fear, but if I may be so bold I would posit my intervention has prolonged her life. I believe you may want to take a closer look at that body, as well; I am not an expert on the daemonic, nor on dentistry, but I am quite certain teeth do not regrow, and certainly not that quickly."

The gryphon closed its eyes, flexing its good talon.

"And if you would be so kind as to be swift tending to my injuries, I may yet serve as a companion for the remainder of this trip, rather than as provisions."
 
Throwing another glance at the wounded, soldat Aron helping her with stopping the bleeding via means of pressure bandage, Morr dismounted, hand on his sword's hilt, walked towards the corpse of the 'man'.
Kneeling, inspecting the thing closer, he soon began to tear away what remained of the cloth from the man's head, revealing skinless, bloody flesh, the eyeballs, seemingly consisting of gold, sunk deep into their pits. Hesitating for a second, he started to pry off the man's rusted and broken chainmail, the metal apparently having almost fused with the flesh underneath. Again, no skin, sinews and muscle bare, though random plates of gold seemed to have been molten into the naked flesh at random.

His view was soon caught by the sword laying just outside the man's reach, the struggle with the gryphon apparently having made him lose it before his end. Picking it up, it seemed just like a normal blade, mediocre, low-quality iron. Thinking for a moment, he asked the gryphon "This weapon managed to tear through a Hellguard's armor?"

Behind him, the rest of the expedition soon arrived, sister Elia rushing to the wounded Hellguard and began to clean and disinfect her wound, preparing to put on a proper bandage. Without lifting his gaze from the corpse, Morr's gravelly voice intoned "Sister Elia, as soon as you have taken care of her wounds, I must ask you to also provide aid to sir Swiftbeak."

Weibel Belatia soon approached him, inspecting the scene, awaiting orders, prompting him to finally look up from the thing to turn to her, speaking "It appears one of your battle-sisters was attacked by a possessed man, though sir Swiftbeak managed to end the thing, I must nonetheless ask that we burn the corpse to ashes. I will not have it that it returns to life through some foul magical trickery and begins attacking travelers."

Staring at the corpse, the weibel commented "We need wood to get a proper fire going, this will take some time." nodding to herself, she went back to her subordinates and set them to work.

Throwing another glance at the madman's remains, Morr called out to the rest of the group "I suggest you all stretch your legs, after we are finished here, we will hurry at the fastest pace the wagon can suffer to the outpost without pause. If goodness allows, we will arrive by late afternoon."
 
"He had another weapon at the onset of the battle; one hand was free, holding the sword, while the other drove into her shield. I lost track of it in the confusion- I am sure it is nearby, if you care to search. I am, at the moment, concentrating on keeping my bearings, and do not feel quite prepared to undertake a search of any degree."

He was then silent for some time, closing his eyes. He repeated a quiet prayer in his head; it was nothing meaningful or relevant, simply grace to be said before mealtime, but it at least calmed him sightly more than "OH GOD MY FUCKING TOE." had been doing. He broke this to speak once more, to correct the knight:

"It was not I that ended his life. Without the bolts of the Hellguard, the confrontation may have gone very differently. I should mention that he was incapacitated; I had a mind to await you lest you wanted to question him, but did not feel it right in denying her a killing blow. Had her bleeding felled her before you arrived, she would have never had the chance to exact vengeance."
 
Vanessa got out of the wagon and took a look around the place. she put her dagger in her boot . She walked up to the corpse saying "that is going to smell bad when it burns." She walked around the scean again but this time the smell of blood put her in deep thought about what happened three months ago.
 
Zato stepped out of the cart, stretching his back. He heard the commotion, apparently they needed to start a fire.
"If I might make a suggestion" he said,
"Wouldn't a dash of this speed the process considerably?" he held out one of his alcohol bottles, delicious, flammable mead could be heard sloshing inside.
 
Valetni laboriously clambered down from the wagon. Taking his cane in hand, he made his way towards where everyone else had gathered.

"Interesting," He remarked, slowly bending down to more carefully examine the subject. He withdraw his knife from the folds of his robe. Taking a pair of thin leather gloves, he slipped them on one after another, flexing and scrunching his fingers a few times to get a proper fit. Placing one hand on the subject's forehead, he inserted the tip of the knife along the lacrimal sac. Carefully levering the eyeball out, Valetni was shocked to see the optic nerve was a composite of gold and organic matter. Valetni paused, thinking.

"Is there any chance we could delay the burning?" He coughed. "There is quite a lot I'd like to check out." He slipped the golden eye into his pocket.
 
When he was just about to thankfully accept brother Zato's offer, brother Valetni made his examination. Staring down at the monk, then at the corpse, Morr was not a squeamish man, certainly not, he had been present to a number of dissections of demonic beasts and possessed humans during the Second Crusade after all.
The Hellguards felt the same, knowing the use of examination and categorisation. Every demon and possessed bore the signs that denoted it as the property of some higher master, an archfiend of sorts. It could only be prudent that they found out whose 'property' this man was, though, considering their mission and the rumors, they could make some assumptions.

Nodding, Morr said "The cremation is held off, thank you for the offer, brother Zato, until brother Valetni has conducted his research, but I must request that it take no longer than a single hour." He gestured for Valetni to proceed, while several members of the Guard watched.

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Sister Elia meanwhile had finished providing her aid to the wounded Hellguard for now, moving on to the gryhon still stoically standing his ground. "If you allow, I can help you now."
 
The commotion outside had gotten Mary curious, after hearing several of the travellers dismount from the wagon and their horses she could hear muffled talking, she slowly pulled out the cork covering the hole in the barrel and looked out, now she could see some of what was happening and hear clearly.

A few of them were gathered around in a sort of circle looking at something on the floor, the small girl watched as Brother Valetni bent down, Mary's view suddenyl blocked by the edge of the wagon she waited intently and, after a few minutes filled with nasty squishing and cutting noises, Valetni returned to his previous position looking at something in his hand.

Mary pressed her eye closer to the hole almost popping out of it to get a better look, then he held it up to the light...

The young girl quickly withdrew from her spy hole and fumbled to push the cork back in,

Then there was more talking, and even worse, more cutting noises.

She managed to push it in and, with the stopper finally in place she sat curled in a ball, the sight rolling over and over in her head.

It was an eyeball, a person's eyeball.

She wanted to throw up.

The girl sat in silence, holding the small duck and gently stroking its feathers as silent tears ran down her face. Her little frame rocking back and forth inside the barrel as she wrapped a scarf around her head to block out the awful noises from outside.
 
"Alright, then...." Zato took a swig from the bottle instead, and took a step backwards. He soon heard the sound of cutting, and smelled blood as Valetni began his dissection in the name of science.
 
"Thank you, though I may require some assistance in the initial preparatory cuts." Valetni said, still leaning over the corpse. He began making the incision at the shoulder, and moved across to the sternum, stopping at the last of the true ribs. When he reached this point, he began cutting back towards the hip, choosing a X shaped incision rather than the more standard Y incision. This done, he folded the four flaps of skin back, exposing the internal workings of the subject.

Valetni wasn't sure where to begin. He had his procedures, of course, after nearly thirty years of doing this, you had better bet he had procedures, but this was a whole new land.

Gold was everywhere. Flecks in the lungs, diaphragm, and musculature. He stared, there even appeared to be a hollow section taking up a portion of the large intestine.

"This is quite interesting." He remarked to no one in particular. "This man should not have been alive, at the very least, this much gold would have killed him from the poisoning alone."

Out of Idle curiosity, Valetni checked, and indeed, the affliction had even spread to the man's shriveled genitalia.

Returning his gaze to the chest cavity, Valetni began the slow task of removing the major organs. Cutting each one free of the connective tissue, each slice accompanied by a ooze of blood, Valetni was soon covered elbow deep in gore. He stripped off the gloves, they weren't helping him any, and he needed a firmer grip on the blood slick knife.

He placed each major organ on the ground as it was removed, Heart, Lungs, Liver, Kidney. He moved the intestines around, sorting through them as he searched for the associated organs of the digestive system. He placed the gallbladder aside separately, he'd want to take that with him.

It seemed that everything was where it should be, and aside from the mysterious golden grafts, there was almost nothing out of the ordinary with the man. Valetni shrugged.

"I'm done here." He said after approximately forty five minutes. "Would one of you be so kind as to get me a specimen jar out of my trunk?" He said, holding up his blood drenched arms, the sleeves of his robes safely rolled up before he began the procedure.
 
At Morr's behest one of the Hellguards, the calm one, Surnem, went back to the wagon, calmly, retrieved one of Zato's empty jars and delivered it to Valetni.
The rest of them kept staring, gazes hidden beneath their helmets, though they could have easily been described as 'grim'.
 
"That's the wrong jar." Valetni remarked. "I said specimen Jar, it should be in my trunk, full of formaldehyde." He said patiently.
 
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