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Forbidden Temple of the Great Falls

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"HHmmmmmmmm" Zato pondered.

"Well...... let's see what Mary thinks." he turned towards the girl.

"Do you think we should go with them? Or just get directions?"
 
Mary didn't speak, but she was still hiding behind Zato, keeping the blind monk between her and the robed figures at all times.

She looked up into his eyes, had he been able to see the worried look on her face it would probably have helped him make up his mind, but as she was, struck mute from fear she could do little but tug on his garments.
 
The gryphon was not quite as suspicious as caution would dictate, given a strange man offering him a viscous green liquid, but Swiftbeak would not look a gifthorse in the mouth- At least not until he was finished eating it. He lifted his wounded talon off the ground and rested it on the stall, trying (and failing) to keep his talons from digging depressions in the wood.

"You are quite generous. Here; the wound is below the bandages."
 
"Ah, I see. Well I'm sorry gentlemen, but it appears Mary is a tad shy. If you would just give us directions to our companions, that would be wonderful. I'm sure we can find our way from there." Zato stated, feeling Mary hide behind him.
 
Looking up at the gryphon with a measure of fearful suspicion, the man uncorked the flask and, with some hesitation, carefully applied the liquid, which quite quickly hardened around the mutated Hellguard's talon, creating a resistant barrier while the healing process inside was sped up.

"I'd suggest not moving it too much, but I doubt you can properly follow that... Now, please go away, you're scaring off the customers!" the man shooed the gryphon away.

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A scowl became noticeable beneath the man's face-cloth, but he accepted the old monk's words "Alright, then."

Turning back to the woman that still held the daggers ready to draw, he said "You're part of those hellguards, right? Most of those are currently at the southern gate, right now you are near the market-place in the north-east of the city, I say you take the first bend to the east, then..."

He properly explained the fastest route back to the southern gate.
 
Valetni hesitated, looking at the garment in front of him. "That certainly wasn't in style the last time I was here." He remarked with a cough.

"And how long ago was that, sir?" The tailor asked politely as he adjusted his spectacles. The older man was dressed conservatively, though the cut of his clothes was fine and the material expensive. He had probably made his own clothes, and his willingness to wear his own product spoke more of the quality than the opulence of the shop.

Valetni ticked back the years in his head. "About...seven years I'd say?" He responded with a hint of uncertainty. Yes, seven sounded about right. The man gave a polite, dry laugh.

"If I may sir, we have a saying in my profession," He cleared his throat. "'Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable, that we are forced to alter it every six months.'" He concluded. Valetni gave him a weak smile in response.

"Of course, as you say." At least it was somewhat similar to what he was used to wearing. Transitioning from robes to other forms of clothing had always been an uncomfortable experience for him. He eyed the product again. It was a three piece affair. Pants, top, and overcoat. The top was white, the pants purple. The overcoat was purple as well, and would hang slack on his frame. He had been assured that such a fit was desirable. The collar was lined with the fur of some sort of large cat, Valetni could not identify which, and the outfit was to be completed with a large brimmed hat, complete with a ridiculously over sized feather. It was, without a doubt, the best disguise Valetni had ever seen. No one would believe that he was a monk of buzziah. It would simply not do for him to show up at such an establishment as that he planned on visiting dressed in any manner but that which befitted such a locale. This was it.

"How much did you say again?" Valetni asked of the tailor. It was more than he had imagined, but certainly within the means, even considering his projected expenses. Valetni sighed, and then paid the man. The shopkeep left him to change into his new clothes. The overcoat was supposed to be left undone to the sternum, but that would leave the various items on his person exposed. Fortunately there were buttons which allowed him to keep said items, including his gas mask, concealed. The loose nature of the fit ensured that there would not be able unsightly bumps on his person. Looking at himself in the mirror, Valetni believed himself to look rather ridiculous, but the tailor opined that he looked no more out of place than any successful merchant. Valetni slipped the man a few extra coins, leaving him with instructions to have a courier deliver his robes to his room. He was sure the hellguard would have solved that task by then, the courier would simply have to ask around, it wasn't like they would be able to miss the arrival of a party like his.

Adorned with his new clothes, Valetni limped off to pay an old acquaintance a visit, and get some information at the same time.
 
The conversation with the mayor, mister Valdor, had been both enlightening and troubling, Morr would have to relay the findings to the rest of the expedition. Besides that, the mentioning of Urist had resulted in the opening of records of that of a common criminal, not more, not less. While the large man was not possessed, or so it appeared, he would have to serve his time in prison for a long duration.

Morr had agreed to the transfer of the man as soon as possible, though he had nonetheless asked the mayor for as much mercy as he could allow, after all, Urist was still wounded.

Exiting the fortified center of the city, Morr and his subordinated began their way to the southern gate again.
 
"Ah, thank you" Zato said, and led Mary off towards where the other men had directed, occasionally stopping to ask Mary to point out the sun's direction.
 
Valetni stared up at the sign above the large double doors of his destination. The sign depicted a scantily clad woman in bed, with an inviting look on her face. Below that, the words 'Madame Molly's Pleasure Palace' were written in a flowing, golden script. He gave a snort of amusement as he hobbled up the stairs. The door was opened for him from the inside, just as he was about to take the handle in his own hand. Valetni found himself in an ornately furnished room, heavy on gauzy curtains, plush chairs, and two large, mountainous men.

"I'm here to see Molly?" Valetni asked tentatively.

"Regarding?" Was the reply from the one on the left. The two men might as well have been brothers. Dark skinned, bald, muscular, and intimidating. It was easy to see why they were hired for what they did.

"I'm an old friend, Friedrich." Valetni explained. Hopefully her reaction to the news of his arrival would not be to set the two goons on him.

"Wait here." He was instructed. Seeing no other choice, he took a seat on one of the couches. It was surprisingly comfortable. Valetni took the time to rest his legs, which were already beginning to cramp from the strain. He was gently massaging his calf's when she entered the room. It had been seven years since he had last seen her, but she wasn't one you could forget.

Molly swept into the room with a grace and nobility that would be the envy of many a noblewoman. Charisma, charm, and grace. It was easy to forget she was working as a streetwalker when they had first met. Valetni knew, with some certainty, that the red haired woman that stood before him was in her early thirties, at least, but with her laughing smile and twinkling eyes, she managed to pass as someone a decade younger. She wore a light blue gossamer robe, open in the front, revealing the soft, firm globes of her not inconsiderable bust. A matching length of the same material was pulling duty as a skirt, tied at the right hip. With every confident step she took into the room, Valetni was tantalized by an expanse of creamy white skin. Valetni was staring, and they both knew it.

"Hello Friedrich, nothing to say? My, that's quite unlike you." She said with a giggle as she slipped into one of the chairs opposite him. Her chair was an inch or two than his, bringing the two of them to eye level.

"Molly, you look nice." He managed to get out after a second. He could feel his skin burning. She gave another laugh, a genuine one, not forced or artificial in any way.

"And you look," She paused, allowing her eyes to travel up and down his frame, before putting her fingers to her mouth, stifling another laugh. "You look quite ridiculous, I must say." Valetni found himself chuckling along with her. She could move statues to merriment. She stood, walking across the distance that separated him, and sat beside him. Valetni tensed.

"Relax," She teased, taking the hat from his head and tossing it onto the chair she had just vacated. "So, what brings you here, dressed like this to boot?"

"Isn't it enough that I want to check in on an old friend?" Valetni tried weakly, earning him another of her beautiful laughs.

"Friedrich," She said, placing one hand on his knee. "You're not a charmer, and your voice sounds like you've been gargling razor blades and gravel." She arched a fine eyebrow in his direction as she took his cane into her hands, turning it over and examining it. "I get the sense that this is more a necessary aid than a phallic symbol, what happened to you?" She asked, managing to project a note of sincere concern into her voice.

"I let something get out of hand." Valetni replied, gently taking the cane back from her. An electric tingle shot between the two as his hand brushed hers. Valetni coughed, doubling over. When he looked up, he realized she had taken the opportunity to slide closer, now nearly shoulder to shoulder with him. Her kind, caring look was still present, but it was accompanied by something almost predatory.

"You know, you can stay here if you want." She traced a finger down the front of his suit, leaning close enough that he could feel her breath on the skin of his jaw and neck. "Let me, take care of you?" She moved closer, and in a single move, straddled him. Her robe fell open, giving Valetni a view of her bare breasts and toned stomach. "We got interrupted last time you were here, why don't we wrap up our unfinished business?" She leaned in for the kiss, closing her eyes as she did so.

She was brought up short by Valetni's hands on he shoulders, gently halting her approach. "You know, that's a real tempting offer." He said huskily, licking his lips. "But I'm afraid that I have some obligations, first." He half turned his head to the right and down. The two of them stayed locked in that position for several seconds, before she rolled back over onto the couch, seated next to him.

"What type of obligations?" She asked with pouty eyes. "The last time you said that you disappeared for seven years!" She said accusingly.

"But I came back, just like I said I would." He countered.

"And now you're leaving again." She crossed her arms under her breasts.

"Listen, Molly." He began, clearing his throat. "I have to do something, and I need some information." He tapped his cane on the floor, lightly.

"What type of information?" She said in a tone of voice that strongly implied she was not happy with him. Not one bit. There was a fire in her green eyes.

"The type of information, that if you can get me it, means that I come back alive." He said, putting emphasis on the 'back.'

"To me?" She asked, as if not fully trusting him.

"Of course, I just need to take care of this, and then I'll take you back up on that offer." He said with his best smile. It came out as a grimace.

"Alright." She said with a smile, as he described to her what exactly he was looking for. "How will I get this to you?" She asked as he stood up.

"Don't worry, I'll get in touch with you." He said with another attempt at a smile, before striding out of Madame Molly's Pleasure Palace.

Valetni surveyed his surroundings, before heading directly to where he he had last seen the others.
 
Arriving at the agreed destination, the inn, named "The Demon Head" for whatever reason, near the southern city gate where the group had made their entrance. The building, its wooden frame half-way obsolete through the withering of the elements as well as the encroaching of time, was quite lively, the happy mood and amount of its customers standing in stark contrast to the almost barren, dour appearance of the streets, with only the occasional walker.

Sending his subordinates in to inform weibel Belatia of his arrival, Morr rather beheld the streets for a moment longer. He spotted the still mumbling figure of the old man, still sitting there, filthy and abandoned.

Approaching the obviousely handicapped one, the knight, ignoring the reviling stench emanating from the poor soul, asked "Sir, I see that you are in quite the predicament."

The old man merely stared up at the massive knight, eyes glazed over, sunken into the pits, mumbling incoherently.

"Let me grant you some mercy." kneeling down, the knight, ignoring the filth clinging to the unfortunate man, lifted the old one, carefully, up, leading him towards the inn.

Entering, he came to the sight of a crowded bar, shouts for more beverages, answered by the gruff voice of the tavern-owner, with whom weibel Belatai appeared to be locked in conversation. While it was crowded, an overwhelming amount of the attending folk apparently sailors, he still had an easy way to reach her, most of the occupants readily going out of his way, whether because of his massive form, or the reviling sight of the old man with him he could not rightly tell.

The good weibel told him how the lodgings had been made succesfully, she questioned why the knight would bring this decrepit old man with him.

While the owner, a middle-aged with beergut called Connor, was not amazed when the knight asked him to give the old man food, drink and a bath, the knight's offer of temporary servitude after the quest, under further promise of possible riches aquired while on said expedition, though still under the objecting gaze of the weibel, was good enough as use of coercion, it appeared.
 
After some amount of walking, Zato soon found himself standing outside some sort of noisy building. From the sound of it, the inside was a tavern. In Zato's experiences, those would contain an inn, and also people, like the ones having a good time inside. With luck, he could at least find an off duty Hellguard.

He beckoned Mary to hold his hand as he fumbled the door open.
 
Mary looked up to see Zato motioning with his hand. The small girl latched onto it firmly with her free hand (the other still firmly holding the ribboned duck). The noise coming from the inside of the building was unlike anything she had heard before.

She watched as the blind monk missed the handle a number of times before finally grasping it with his hand and began opening the door.
 
(sorry guys i went thou a bad time in rl and you all speed ahead again so i fear i must drop out due to i'm still hurting from what i went thou sorry all its been fun and wish i could stay but i thought i let you all know that i dropped out)
 
Swiftbeak experimentally flexed his claw- because clearly that's what "don't move it much" means- and quietly wondered to himself if the man had just applied some kind of brightly colored but useless paste. Still, it didn't immediately make his foot wither and fall off, so he was doing better than expected.

"Thank you. You are as generous as you are pungent." The gryphon bowed his head and carefully maneuvered through the cramped streets to make his way back to where he assumed the Hellguard would still be gathered.
 
As Zato opened the door, the pungent stench of spilt beer and sweat, the overly loud conversations of dozens of occupants and the sight, which, of the two, certainly only Mary would be able to perceive, of the figure of Morr walking an old man in ragged beggar's clothing to the bar, conversing with the owner of the tavern while weibel Belatia stood on his side.
 
The small girl looked around the crowded building, people were everywhere again, strange people, loud people...

Out of the corner of her eye a flash of mirrored steel reflected a lanterns light into her eyes. She focused on the source and saw the familiar sight of Morr the Knight, the full-plate standing out amongst the people clothed in linens and regular clothing.

They were no better, she looked up at the blind monk, and down at her own clothing. The jacket she was wearing over her habit seemed to make her look more like these people, but Zato was obviously different, the long brown habit he wore combined with his seeing-cane marking him out from the strange people who seemed to fill the room. She looked up again and saw a variety of faces regarding the both of them with what Mary assumed was curiosity, but, it didn't seem like happy curiosity...

She tugged slightly on the Blind Monk's sleeve, and began making her way through the room. The people around watching as she slowly lead the Monk through the tightly packed crowd, in places she had to squeeze through gaps as Zato apologised for making contact with the people. She didn't want to have to brush against them... but, they didn't move. She waited for a while behind two people who blocked her path, eventually they looked down, snorted, and went about talking again.

She pushed her way between them, scrambling out the other side and pulling the monk through despite the two people's protests and much feather dislodging from the by now rather disgruntled duck she held against her chest. After much more of this she had made her way to the metal-clad figure, she stopped, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

"Mister Morr." she said, trying to alert him to her presence. Her voice not making it above the loud chatter of the people by the bar.

"Mister Morr?" she asked again, looking up at the back of the broad figure that was the Knight.

She released her grip on Zato's sleeve for a second, and looked forward at the polished armour.

There... there was nowhere to tug...

Extending her small, pale hand towards the Knight the small girl hesitantly knocked gently 3 times upon the steel Back-Plate, before looking up again at the large armoured figure.
 
Feeling the vibrations resulting from the small fists impacting on the plate on his back, Morr slowly turned around, seeing brother Zato behind him, though the angle from which the old monk would have had to beat him was too awkward. Lowering his gaze, the one being whose mere existence continually kept reminding him of his own pathetic state came into his view.

Immediately, his eyes swept back up to stare at the figure of brother Zato. Further, he inspected who was behind the elderly monk. None. "Brother Zato, I must ask, were you and milady Mary wandering the town without escort?"
 
Swiftbeak had caught a glimpse of Zato entering the inn, and began to turn towards the door; briefly hesitating at the thought of surrounding himself with a strange crowd, he brushed his concern aside as he reminded himself of the severity of their mission. Not so easy to disregard was the width of the door, which proved an obstacle; he had to tuck his wings tight to his sides and push himself for all he was worth, paws scraping on the ground before they dug into the dirt enough to shove him forward and send him stumbling into the inn.
 
Zato brushed past the customers, wading through the smell of cheap alcohol and and the men who drink it.
Soon he was able to pick out Morr's voice asking him a question.

"Ah, Morr! We were just taking a stroll through town is all" he responded cheerfully.
 
Valetni pushed open the doors, pausing inside the entrance to the inn as he eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. It had not been hard to ascertain where the group of monks had been staying. Knights were uncommon, but not unknown, and the same could be said of monks, but Valetni had been willing to bet there was only a single Griffin in the whole city. He had simply asked around, and after hearing about the Griffin terrorizing and laying waste to the market (Valetni had passed through it, he would have to congratulate the people of the city on how fast they had managed to rebuild) he had simply asked directions, hearing even more incredible tales as he went. He would have to check if the tears of a griffin could indeed heal the lame and bring sight to the blind. He doubted it, but it wouldn't do to dismiss things out of hand.

It seemed that his search had indeed led him to the right place, as he spied several members of his party standing inside.
 
Seeing as how most of the group had been gathered, Morr rose his voice to speak "My battle-brothers and sisters, let me tell you of the revelations the mayor granted me to tell you..."

He explained the general situation the town was in. The main trade routes, those by sea, had utterly dried up, due to the very simple fact that no ship had been capable of entering the port for months, while anything that left did not return. Days ago a thick mist had formed some distance off the port's immediate waters, encircling any passage to the town by sea. Any who had dared entering had, naturally, never exited.

While trade by land remained, it was far from sufficient, inflation in the town already having begun. But to make matters worse, a cult of sorts had emerged, spreading chaos and fear via hit and run tactics, vanishing after berserker-like attacks without a trace, heavily besetting the patrols the town's guard had set up, those whom they took never returning. It had been reported, however, that they flung themselves into their attacks with cries akin to "The call demands!"

"... as such, leads are far and few, but the mayor was indeed able to provide us with something to investigate. During a series of house-searches, a group of guards had been sent to a mansion situated outside the city under the possession of a wealthy lady. None of them returned. If no one else here has happened upon any other lead, I would suggest we begin our search there, starting after a rest in this tavern, setting out tomorrow morning."
 
Vanessa had been following zato to the tavern and when she had walked in she made a few heads turn in her way looking her up and down. she knew by the looks of some of the men they thought she was a pretty young thing. she just found herself a seat in a corner while she listened to brother Morr speak about the lead he had gotten. Vanessa got up after sir morr was done speaking and ordered herself something to drink and eat. she put her food down fast and put her dagger in the crouch area of a man and said "touch my butt again and you lose this". she took her food and walked away. This got some laughs by a few men at the Tavern.
 
It was just then that the knight caught sight of the... quite flamboyantly dressed figure of brother Valetni. How he had not seen the monk till now was a mystery to even himself. Was he really getting that old?
Leaving brother Zato and milady Mary in weibel Belatia's care, the massive knight made his way through the overcrowded tavern.

Soon, he reached the strangely-attired monk, who himself was receiving quite a number of stares, ranging from those of pure wonder to such of utter amazement "Brother Valetni, good it is that you return without harm... although I would wonder where you received such an attire and why you would prefer it to your humble monk's habit, I must first and foremost ask, did your search prove fruitful?"
 
"Ah, sir Morr." Valetni said, orientating himself on the knight. "I am quite well, yes, thank you." He nodded as he spoke, before being interrupted by a short bout of coughing. He self consciously adjusted his new clothing, hopefully the tailor had followed his orders and sent his old clothes to the proper destination, if not, he would have to pay the tailor another visit.

"Yes, yes it did." Valetni began. "My search, and such, all objectives were met." He idly tapped the cane against the floorboards. "There may be uh, some delay before all results are finalized, you understand I cannot simply wave money around and have it materialize, yes?"

"Speaking of the money, I'll need to hold onto this for a few days, orders are being processed, wheels are being greased, I still need to make final payment, so I'll be holding onto this." Valetni patted himself to ensure that he still had the coinage on his person. "I'll obviously need to go myself, by myself, again, of course. But uh, we may well be seeing the results of my endeavors as early as tomorrow morning." Valetni whetted his lips.

"Anyways, tomorrow morning, sounds like a plan, very busy day... now if you'll excuse me, very tired, time for bed." The older monk made a beeline for the stairs, hoping to outrun any further questions from the knight.
 
Nodding, the knight silently dismissed the bowed figure of the monk, the tapping of his cane lost in the general volume of the crowd filling the tavern.

Turning back to the rest of the expedition, particularly brother Zato and lady Mary, noting the presence of sister Vanessa in the corners of his vision, the knight allowed his voice to boom over the conversations of the assembled attendants "I suggest that all of you go and receive some rest, the rooms are upstairs, soldat Helm will let you gain entry upon recognition."
 
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