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Forbidden Temple of the Great Falls

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"Take off your helmet." the father's voice demanded, gruff to describe.

Obediently, the knight did so.

"Hah, so ugly that only a mother could love you, I see. Let's get started."

The fist, hand calloused by years of had work, landing in his face was certainly not the worst he had suffered in his life. But that mattered little, the father wanted him to suffer for losing his son and so he would obey, such was his oath.

"All my hopes and dreams, GONE!" another punch, amplified by anger, sending the knight to the ground by force.

"AND THEN YOU DARE TO SHOW UP HERE WITHOUT EVEN A SINGLE COIN TO MAKE UP FOR IT!" a kick right into his teeth followed, letting Morr see stars.

Another followed and another, the man's attacks furious, each one accentuated by a sickening crunch as Morr's lower jaw took the brunt. Pain, quite simple. The father's anger thrived on it, he felt better causing the source of his misfortune pain. And this satisfaction was all Morr was capable of giving him.

Grabbing the knight's armored shoulders, the man, in a display of surprising strength considering his age and quite lower height compared to the massive Morr, drove the knight head-on into the wall nearby "DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO NOW? YOU COST ME MY HEIR!"

Morr, sprawled on the ground with blood clouding his view, caught sight of how the man took a butcher's cleaver from the table, the blade stained by the dried blood of animals "Sir-" spitting blood and teeth, the oath-bound knight spoke "If it is your wish to kill me, then please do not do so in front of your daughter. She is still- " retching another goblet of blood "- is still quite young, please do not stain her memory with a sight such as this." the father paused, staring at the armored man still talking downright eloquently.

"Bah, she can see how the bastard that got her brother killed dies..." casting a glance at her, she, barely of sixteen years, long red hair and blue eyes staring down at her feet obediently, the man seemed to trail off.

Looking back at the knight, the man hesitated with his next move, lost in thought. Suddenly, he asked "Are you married?"

Morr couldn't believe his ears, what a strange question regarding the situation "Sir, I am not married, but why ask such a-" the response was a cut off by another cough of blood.

Looking at his daughter again for a short while, then back at the knight, the father asked another question "And don't you knights have that law of your order..."

Slowly, realization dawned on Morr "Sir- which law are you referring to?"

"That one where your family gets taken care of while you're out in the field. Isn't that right?"

"Sir, what are you-

"I make you an offer, knight. You took my heir, so get me a new one." casting another glance at his daughter, who was now looking up "What I'm saying is, marry my daughter, get your order to pay all of my expenses. The rest should be obvious..."

"Sir, you demand from me to- that- she- isn't she too young- why- I'm certain she wouldn't want to-" Morr began to protest, only to be cut off by the enraged father.

"She's a woman and my daughter, what she wants doesn't matter. She'll obey, and so will you, isn't that right? You got that oath, right?"

Morr remained silent.

"Heh, after all, who needs the man when you can have the knight, right?"

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Morr's hands balled to fists in his unsteady sleep.
 
Sergeant Belatia acknowledged Valetni's presence with a short glance to the side as she, together with private Stryke, carried the body of another fallen from the memorial.
 
"Sergeant Belatia, a short moment of your time?" Valetni said, waiting patiently for her to finish with her current task.
 
Grimacing, helmet strapped to her belt, Belatia nonetheless gestured for Surnem, who himself had taken a bad hit to the shoulder last night, to take her place.

"Yes, brother Valetni?" she asked.
 
"I was perhaps wondering if I could discuss a somewhat delicate matter with you." Valetni said, casting a glance at all the still living Hellguard in the area. "Perhaps somewhere a little more private."
 
"As you wish, Sergeant." Valetni said, turning on his heel and beginning to stump away. "I'm sure Sir Morr will be more than willing to discuss the issue with me, after I'm forced to wake him, of course."
 
He had been flying for what seemed an eternity, again- His wings ached once more to rest, though when he'd taken off he thought he would be happy if he never touched ground again. That still held true, in a way; as much as he would like to say he couldn't bear seeing the men he did not die with, in truth it was the pain of his wounded claw that delayed his descent. Unlike leaping into the fray to begin with, the pain he faced was not something noble, nor something to which he was spurred to act; it was his choice to fly, and his justification to Morr only hid his desire to feel the sky again. Now, though, it was time to pay the price for that deception.

He glided in, circling, slowing his descent as much as he could. He aimed for the outside of the keep in the vast expanse of shattered ground, knowing that it would be more painful than the flat stone of the keep, but the penalty for missing his landing would not be impacting a wall. The rushing ground rose before him, and he extended his hindlegs first, as he always did; coming as close to a stop as he could without falling vertically, he touched his paws to the ground. At once his momentum threw his body forward, and in the instinctual motions of landing he could not bring himself to use only one talon.

The wounded limb shrieked with the agony of torn skin and muscle, and a wave of throbbing, radiant pain echoed far up his leg. It was all he could not to cry out, but as he seethed through the pain he was overcome with relief; he was on the ground, again, and need no longer dread it. Limping back to the keep, his head was low to avoid eye contact with the guards; he was new here, and had done little to prove himself, and to see disdain for weakness in their eyes was not something he would risk. His body had been twisted by daemon magic, after all, and if it could not serve in combat, what use would the soldiers here see in him?

He took a brief glance about for Sir Morr, and saw nothing of him. It only now occurred to him that he had likely missed their orders on his flight, and he should get caught up on- Wait. What was that smell?

Fresh blood. Dead livestock.

The gryphon hunched low to the ground and slowly began creeping towards the stables; on instinct, of course, as he wouldn't do something so subversive as steal the carcasses. Still, with the butchered animals lying there, he couldn't help but wonder if anyone intended to preserve them, or simply dispose of them- To that effect, he approached the nearest guard.

"May I eat those?" he asked, gesturing towards the dead beasts.
 
Sighing, the sergeant relented "Very well, 'brother' monk, you need to talk, follow me."

Telling Herdpack that he had command for now, she led the Valetni to one of the store-houses, passing by the stables which were still filled with the remains of the slaughtered animals.

Entering, it was the area where the supplies they had brought with the wagon had been stored, she leaned against a wall, waiting for the monk to speak "Make it quick if you can."
 
Vanessa did not go back inside instead she sat on the cart. She stared at the clouds. She used to love watching the cclouds with her brother. She would stay at the cart till needed.
 
"So, Belatia." Valetni began, now somewhat hesitant about how to proposition the woman.

"Do you perhaps know the name of the woman whose arm I removed?" He began.
 
"Wouldn't have thought such a question coming from you, is that why you didn't want to ask in front of the others, afraid to lose your image as an asocial creeper?" Belatia asked, but continued before any answer could have risen

"The answer is, regrettably, no. But Morr does, for some reason. He memorized all the names, that's what he did while he stood guard all night, he told me after I asked him. Besides that, you COULD just go to the hospice and ask her herself, right?"
 
"She's not important." Valetni responded dismissively.

"What is important, is that I was able to save her, no? Quite a complicated procedure, quite a lot could have gone wrong, and the only real teacher in the field of battlefield surgery is experience, wouldn't you say?" He idly tapped his cane on the floor.
 
"... right." Belatia said, crossing her arms over her chest "So, I don't know her name, too bad. Can I get back to work now?" she asked.

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"Err...." the man who the gryphon approached eyed the strange creature, hand instinctively inching towards the hilt of his sword, before he stopped himself. Looking back at the slaughtered horses, he shrugged "Right, I think you can do that, otherwise we're going to just burn them or something after we're done with the others."
 
"Just one moment, and then we can bring this intercourse to a cessation." Valetni said.

"Now, obviously." Valetni began, starting to pace within the small room. "Practicing on a healthy specimen is simply out of the question, and one shouldn't wait until one's skills are needed before putting them to the test, theory is all good, but experience is what is needed when you are actually operating, correct?" He stopped, posing the question to Belatia.
 
"So, by that logic, which you yourself have twice admitted is sound, the only option is to practice on cadavers." Valetni said, sharply stabbing his cane against the floorboards in emphasis.
 
"Well, we have burned all the other bodies..." He muttered to the ground, before looking up and meeting the female hellguard's gaze.

"I uh, actually have several arguments in favor of you doing just that, but first I'd like to object to your language." Valetni said, wringing his cane between his hands. "I'm asking if you would volunteer any of the bodies, just those who won't need them anymore, for the purposes of furthering human medical knowledge." He coughed to clear his throat.

"Think of it as allowing them to render one final service to buzziah." Valetni said. "They already proved willing to lay down their lives for their comrades, I'm sure none of them would have any compunction about this if my findings were to result in me saving the life of one of their comrades down the line. And besides, it's not for me, It's for Elia." Valetni paused, catching his breath.

"As evidenced by last night, I'm the only qualified surgeon here." He began tapping his cane against the ground. "If we suffer many more severe injuries such as that, I could easily become swamped, and it's the next logical step in her education."

He cringed away slightly, waiting for Belatia's reaction.
 
Staring at Valetni for a long moment, the sergeant finally answered "I do not have the authority to make such a decision, brother Valetni." she said, somewhat bitter "And even if I did, I would deny you your request. Our dead, our fallen, to desecrate them like this..." her hands balled into fists.

"I can only suggest that you ask sir Morr after he wakes up, or commander Kurze in the hospice, though I don't know about his current state of consciousness. A good day to you, brother monk." abruptly, she took her leave.
 
Valetni waited for Belatia to leave, listening until he could no longer hear the sounds of her progress.

Then he slowly smiled.

While his main request had at this point in time been stymied, he had managed to accomplish one of his secondary objectives.

People were interesting, and through her reaction, Valetni had just gained another piece in the puzzle that was Belatia. It was no corner piece, and he would have to work to fit it into the picture, but he had it, and he could use it. He would be one step closer to understanding her.

Valetni had talked about theory and experience, but in his experience, the only thing necessary to take someone apart was understanding.
 
On receiving the guard's answer, the gryphon gleefully paraded over to the stable, the pain of his talon now long faded and the promise of a feast in front of him. He had not long been there when his powerful hearing had caught whispers from a nearby storehouse; while subterfuge was hardly a hobby of his, he couldn't help but overhear between chunks of flesh. He did his best to look busy with his meal as Belatia left, occasionally glancing up in hopes of catching sight of Valetni.
 
Valetni stepped outside, leaving enough time to allow Belatia to properly vacate the area. It would be rather awkward to run into her so soon after their conversation.

Speaking of things to take apart...

Valetni's gaze fell upon the form of the Griffon, head deep in the flank of a horse.
 
Swiftbeak pulled his head back, some manner of internal organ hanging from his beak- Valetni would likely be able to identify it, but to the gryphon it was simply one more thing to disappear down his gullet. He ensured it was well into his throat by the time he turned his bloodied head to Valetni.

"An interesting conversation, though I admit I only caught the end of it. Do you have no other recourse to teach aside from desecrating the dead?"
 
"A surgeon must cut." Valetni said simply. "Do you learn to swim outside of water? Is a green soldier as able as a battle hardened one?" Valetni tapped the cane against the floor.

"Those horses, you eat them no? Are you desecrating them, or simply putting them to a better use than allowing them to rot in the ground, or burn in a pyre?"
 
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