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Forbidden Temple of the Great Falls

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Valetni watched him for a moment. "Alrighty, I'll take this with me then." Valetni scooped up the eyeball and deposited it back into his robes. He stretched, joints cracking as he turned towards the commander of the Garrison.

"Commander Kurze, how are you feeling?"
 
Mary felt the hand on her shoulder and turned around, clasping her arms around the Blind Monk and burying her face in his torso.

"I-I-I'm-" the sound was cut off by his robes.

She stood, unable to let go of the old Monk as her tears dampened the front of his habit.
 
Elia, who was checking the bandages on the commander's comparatively lesser lacerations, cast a stern look at Valetni "Valetni, the commander really needs some rest, his wounds cost him a lot of blood yesterday and again it took quite something out of him to just show up at the funeral, so please, let him sleep for now."
 
"It's ok, Mary" Zato comforted the girl once again. As he held her, it occurred ti him that this was happening more often outside the temple than in it.

Truly, they had raised a delicate flower.
 
Valetni shrugged, he didn't really care about kurze's condition.

That Elia, well, what a bitch.

"Very well, I may as well direct my inquiries on his health at you, how's the leg?" Valetni moved closer.
 
"Fine as it is, stitched together and all, though he'll get in some real danger if it opens up again." Elia answered absent-mindedly.

After she was done replacing some of the bandages, she turned her full attention back to the older monk "Valetni, I really have to ask, why do you have behave as if someone had murdered you in your sleep and is currently wearing your skin as a paper-thin disguise?"

Slowly walking over to the next patient, one whose ribs had been precariousely close to penetrate his own lungs, she explained "Generally, you are not even remotely so generous and from yesterday I quite remember your initial unwillingness to actually help, which was only overwritten by Morr's demand."
 
"What can I say, I find the inner workings of man to be interesting. Like a puzzle, you understand? Or a very complicated piece of machinery, all the little cogs play their part and everything runs so smoothly, until someone tosses a spanner into it and you end up with this." He gestures around the ward.

"Also, that leg is almost certainly going to get infected, it needs to be ligated, and debrided. Do we have any maggots?" Valetni asked.
 
Looking at Valetni as if he had finally gone insane, which would entail that he was going to throw around with poison any second now, Elia said "Valetni, why would you assume that I haven't done that already? Look around you if you would please, besides the one you saved, I saved five others."

Though the young woman had been quite overwhelmed yesterday, what with her not being used to battle and its after-effects, leading her to ask herself how many more she could have saved if she had worked with more efficiency and a steadier hand.
 
"I would think, that as a professional, you would rather I assume you have not done these proper procedures when you have, than assuming you have when you have not, am I correct?" Valetni said, bristling.

"You may think of me as just some old monk, over the hill, eccentric, But I assure you, I am nothing if not professional."

"I've been doing this, much longer than you have girl." He began. "And in my not inconsiderable experience, it is rather more prudent to prepare for the worst than to hope for the best. As for these madmen, who knows what strange diseases they carry, for all we know, they could spread their madness that way." He ended in a low whisper that only the two of them would hear. "What I am trying to get across," He hissed. "Is that common sense is not common, and neither is competence, and you should assume others lack both until proven otherwise. It would serve you well to take that to heart, if you bother to listen to anything I say. You might live longer that way." Valetni spat, before turning to cane away.
 
"Wouldn't we all, Valetni..." Elia muttered under her breath to the leaving monk as she set back to work.

Of course, one might have thought the young woman as impulsive, as she had undoubtedly demonstrated here in conversation with the older monk. However, beneath the sometimes intruding, though most of the time merely honest demeanor, hid something like a devious vein. It had been this that Blake had sought to nurture, of sorts.

While she had learned to walk without detection, she also learned that giving yourself off as more of an outspoken person made few think that it was indeed her that listened without being noticed. While her surface-demeanor made them uncomfortable to talk around her, it made them so much more talkative when she merely wasn't physically present to their eyes, as Blake had taught her.

When everyone thinks that you would immediately speak about secrets, they do not assume that you know them if you simply don't talk about them, after all.
 
The rest of the day went by without much concern, the funeral went by without any further problems, while the wounded had been stabilized and set on their way to betterment. Well, except for Urist, who was found later, as he tried to climb down the wall inconspiciousely and fell due to his wounded hand, to be gathered up by private Rodario and then put under heavy surveillance, still to be brought along on the way to Pikewall.

Besides this occurrence, the day ended as yesterday should have, though the question of how the attackers had managed to sneak into the courtyard without the guards noticing still remained unanswered, it was, naturally, assumed for some magical trickery to be the cause, against which for now only every single inhabitant of the outpost could be questioned to ascertain whether or not one of them had been the perpetrator, as soon as reeinforcements arrived, which would happen in around four to five days if everything went well.

At the morning's technical beginning, the soldiers and their knight-superior rose, the sun not even out yet, the Hellguards under Morr's command packing the supplies and money that would be needed on their arrival in Pikewall, the journey to which, now without horses, would take at least two days if they took few breaks.

The preperations would take some more time, the sun rising and the men commander Kurze himself had assigned for the message-run getting ready, the two seperate groups gathered before the gate.
 
Vanessa got off the cart to let the people getting the stuff ready have room to do so. she went to the kitchen to see if they had Enoch food for the trip and if she could add more to it. She saw they had all they needed and the supply's they used to get here resupplied with more. she smiled then went out back thou the door but stood in the door way watching the cart get full of supply's ready in case she was needed.
 
Zato gave a yawn as he set outside. He made a mental not over things he needed to be sure of, namely the alcohol supply and Mary's well being, not that he did much else nowadays, but he made sure to do his job well. He scuttled off in some direction; he had learned the layout of most of the area by now.
 
Zato's first task, he decided, would be to discuss Mary's living arrangement with Morr. Now he simply needed to find the man.
 
Mary sat on the floor in the courtyard between the buildings, in her hand was clutched a small amount of seed.

The little girl threw a piece up in the air and watched as the red-ribboned water-fowl ran to where it was about to land, catching it in it's beak before eating it.

She smiled and repeated the activity, the small bird quacking excitedly after every mouth-full.
 
Valetni scowled, angrily tapping his cane against the ground. Damn those madmen. Murdering the horses, now he would be forced to walk! He spat on the ground, narrowly missing the trunk that lurked next to him. And his chest! He would not be parted from it, oh no, not for all the gold in the land, and especially not at this junction. He supposed some luckless hellguard would be press ganged into carrying it, any other option would be unthinkable. It was not as if he could carry his own supplies, he had enough to do simply carrying himself, thank you very much.

Damn those madmen, those vandals, those hooligans. The wagons could have been rebuilt, or repaired, but the horses? Horseflesh did not grow on trees, or at least not any tree uncorrupted by the taint of those daemonic.

If only they had some beast of burden...Valetni cast a sidelong glance at the Griffon, entertaining the thought for a few moments before dismissing it. The musculature was all wrong. A Griffon would never be able to cut it as a draft animal.
 
Kaleed approached the group gathering near the gates.

He wore his hair back and pulled up into a ponytail. He had exchanged his old tattered greys with the quartermaster, who had been kind enough to supply him with another set of plain grey trousers, and shirt. His dark boots gleamed in the sunlight, polished to a bright shine. He still wore his hooded jacket, and around his waist, his steel daggers sat sheathed.

His pack sat around his shoulders, filled with the normal essentials of the road.

He came upon the group, eyes gazing around. Vanessa, the girl who had been partially responsible for saving him the night of the attack, watched some men loading a cart from a doorway. The blind monk, Zato, was walking away, while his ward Mary, played with her small bird. Kaleeds eyes scrunched in a smile at the sight.

The monk Valetni, possessor of his control sphere, looked like he had seen better days. He stood next to his belongs, muttering and glancing about. Kaleed moved towards him, spotting the giant Griffon. Standing a respectable distance from both, Kaleed glanced around, wondering when they would move on. Sir Morr had not gotten back to him about letting him serve the hellguard.

Kaleed intended to put his skills up to use for the order. Regardless, he had fought and almost died for these men that were leaving, as they had fought and died for him. He would not leave any debt unanswered.

He crouched, putting his weight on the balls of his feet, waiting for instruction.
 
Looking up from his work of coordinating the soldiers under his command, Morr spotted the more... special members of the expedition, as well as the dark-skinned mute, sir Kaleed.

Giving weibel Belatia command for now, Morr made his way over to where sir Kaleed, who himself was obviousely ready for travel, asking "I should have adressed you sooner, yesterday, I must apologize for the delay. You... wrote yourself that you were willing to serve, though I hesitated to answer because your reason was not one I would wish others the privilege of servitude for."

Inspecting sir Kaleed from behind his helmet, Morr noted how the man held himself like something comparable to a loyal dog, standing at attention, waiting for any sort of command that might come "While I can not agree with your reason, I can understand your wish and the fact remains that, given the circumstances, we are in need of anyone willing to serve."

Straightening himself, a gesture trained into him from his training in etiquette, Morr asked, tone formal "Sir Kaleed, are you willing to serve the Hellguard on this no doubt highly dangerous mission, are you willing to risk your life to bring it to a successful end? Are you willing to thus serve goodness, defend those who are weak, stand for those that can not stand for themselves? If so, you may nod, or make any other gesture you deem sufficient to relay your approval for."
 
Kaleed slowly straightened before the man in front of him. The man seemed to loom over him, tower even.

Kaleed blinked slowly. His eyes flared for a brief second, pride filling him at the thought of serving a just cause, serving something greater than anything he had known. The Sa'kage of his homeland, were nothing compared to the Hellguards. He had over heard a previous master describing him, "like a diamond that was found in a pile of shit." He did not exist for the petty power struggles of Urah, or the foolish ideas of superiority his Sa'kage masters had about themselves. This is what he had searched years for. This was to be his redemption.

He met the eyes peering out from behind the helm. With a curt nod, Kaleed affirmed his intention.

With a fluid movement, and a quick pull, he unsheathed one dagger. Extending his right arm, and pulling the sleeve back, he revealed 2 long white incisions on his forearm. Holding the arm out and in front of him, keeping his eyes locked to the eyes of Sir Morr, he brought the blade to bear below the 2 long white scars. He rested the blade on his skin for a moment, and in one motion, drew a cut coming straight across his forearm parallel to the others. Blood instantly welled from the wound.

Kaleed quickly whipped his dagger around once, removing most of the blood, and sheathed it. Turning his right forearm to it was facing down, he still held it out to Sir Morr, letting the blood fall to the ground, where the rocks and earth took it, seemingly a silent, eternal witness to his oath.
 
Vanessa was helping loading the stuff from the kitchen when she caught sight of what kaleed did . she shook her head but then went back to work.once she was done she went and sat on the cart again waiting for the group . she wanted to get going before those foul demons attacked again cause if they did they might not servive. she knew anther attack could very well mean the end for us all.
 
Courtly bowing his helmeted head in a gesture of understanding, Morr turned back to where the soldiers under his command were dividing the supplies between each other to carry, spotting the arrival of brother Valetni, brother Zato and... milady Mary. Another question that needed answering.

Approaching the old monk, the knight asked "Brother Zato, I am sure you are as aware as me that normally, milady Mary would have already been sent back. As the circumstances are currently, with all beasts of burden killed, there is no way to send her back the fastest way while security can be granted."

As always, Morr forcibly kept his gaze away from the child as she played with the little duck "Tell me, brother Zato, about how many hours per day can both you and she walk? We need to arrive at Pikewall as quickly as possible, considering the boldness of the attackers have already reached such a capacity to attack a Hellguard outpost."
 
Zato turned with a start, Morr had found him after all!

"Well, I don't know for sure, but a day's walk isn't too much strain. And Mary's quite energetic, she shouldn't have too many problems either." the old man replied to him.
 
Nodding at the old monk, Morr answered "Very well then. Know however that, if fatigue overwhelms you, we can not stop, another attack may happen any time."

Turning around, facing everyone attending, Morr raised the volume of his voice for all to hear "That counts for all of you, we can not stop, bare breaks is all that I can grant. Which is why, if you can walk no longer, tell me and I shall carry you, or have you carried."

Spotting the figure of Valetni, balanced on his cane, the trunk that had formerly rested on the wagon beside him, Morr would take it upon himself to carry it, knowing that the others rather held their distance in fear from whatever viscious substances the alchemically-capable monk stored in there.

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The two groups, messengers and quest-expedition, seperated after passing the gate. The march itself was uneventful, thankfully, even if the group was tense, always ready for a possibly ambush. If Valetni would have listened to some meaningless group-chatter, he might have heard how Rodario, in a joking manner, suggested to Herdpack that if 'everything went south, we can still just throw Valetni's trunk at them!', earning him some panicked stares.

After about two days of almost constant walking, at about afternoon, the sun slowly lowering on the horizon, the group, a good amount of them most certainly quite exhausted, was finally able to set their eyes upon the port-town of Pikewall, the last major population center before the temple, home to, if weibel Belatia stood right, about 1500 people.

The town's first detail to be identified would have been the high stonewalls at its borders, guards in simple chainmail, clad in the green and orange colors of their city, patrolling said walls and regulating the ones seeking access into the city at the gates.

Or so they would have done, if there had been any who sought access, except for the expedition that was currently approaching said gates. No trade-caravans leaving with imported goods from the port, no farmers bringing in their wares to sell.

Looking at it from outside, it almost seemed like a sort of terrorizing tension, greater even than that of the group during the march, hung over the city. In other words, the walls seemed to radiate fear, not for those seeking to intrude with violence, but rather for those who chose to stay inside.

As they began to near the gates, Morr, still carrying brother Valetni's trunk, had the group stop.

Turning around slowly, the knight adressed the old monk "Brother Valetni, you must be aware that the guards may attempt to search us. Is there anything in this case that may cause them to reject our entrance?"
 
Valetni paused, opening his mouth to answer before a coughing fit interrupted him. He doubled over, hanging heavily on the cane as he did his level best to expel his lungs through his throat. He straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his robe as he did so.

"My trunk will not be searched. If they attempt to do so, I will handle the situation." Valetni said as he regained his breath.
 
"Very well then. Further on it shall go." the knight nodded, before going forth.

The group arrived at the gates, though they were obviousely recognizable as Hellguards, the gate-wardens still eyed them with a measure of suspicion. How far had things gone here for such soldiers to regard servants of Buzziah with paranoia?

At Morr's behest, the group stopped, in front of the gate. For a moment, it appeared as though the guards would demand for at least the case that Morr was carrying to be opened and inspected, however still the status of the Hellguard and especially that of the monks of Buzziah seemed to count for something.

While they were waved through, one of the guards told them that the mayor would certainly like an audience with them.

As the group entered, the inner city was shown to consist of most of the outter buildings were made of wood and other simple materials, merely for commercial or recreational purposes, though the street remained of solid stone, the amount of people visible appeared to be negligible, as if most preferred to barricade themselves in their houses, though the taverns appeared to be quite lively, strange considering the not-so-late time of the day.

As the expedition passed the gate, they had to stop once again, planning their further movement.

The original plan of the mission had been to travel to Pikewall, resupplying the outposts on the way, buy themselves as many ships as needed, take down the threat with all available resources. Simple, in a way, without details, that was.

Adressing the whole group, Morr, still carrying brother Valetni's trunk, said "There are several tasks that are in need of fulfillment, though right now, exhausted as we are, I suggest we limit ourselves to three for today; The audience with the mayor, the securing of lodgings for the night and the gathering of information. As I told you, in my conversation with commander Kurze the day before yesterday, he theorized that something of a cult is terrorizing this town. I, as commander, will have to adress the first task for the moment."

Letting his gaze wander over the assembled, he continued "The second one can be taken care of by weibel Belatia. The third..."

The knight looked to the sides. Some of the streetwalkers, peasants, civilians in simple clothings of cheap materials in different states of what would be called 'hygiene', stared at the group with different shades of suspicion, hope and fear. At the entrance to an alley, an old man muttering to himself, eyes glazed other, caught in a thousand-yard stare, all about him speaking of neglect, could be seen.

Yet, the next tavern, a wooden building whose best days appeared to have not been so long ago, seemed comparatively lively, the faint sounds of music reaching even the ears beneath Morr's helmet.

"The third may require some subtlety, something that I, personally, do not have much experience with. Choose to accompany or fulfill any task you wish, but I can only suggest: Never walk in groups of less than four. If you have any further ideas, I am willing to listen and take into account what you have to say." The knight offered.
 
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