Morr was torn. The purpose demanded. But it demanded, it demanded he follow the armored monk, but it also demanded he stay with the unconscious little girl.<br/><br/>He had to contemplate. His purpose demanded. He had to accept.<br/><br/>Passing a glance to the unconscious girl and then the blind man taking off in a manner telling of one who was going to take the matters of healing the girl in his own hands, Morr's ribs demanded he stay.<br/><br/>Silently, Morr departed, not knowing whether to hope or dread for his return, walking into the directions from where he had heard the cries of alarm, following one of the passing guards, to the courtyard they told him, soon arriving to see-<br/><br/>A monstrous feathered creature, half lion half bird it seemed, precariousely making its landing in the middle of the space, guards all around shouting, the sounds of arrows being nocked onto bow-sinews.<br/><br/>Knowing that this could not be a spawn of reality, Morr drew his blade, ready to throw himself alongside the less-incapacitated guards at the thing, when the beast itself suddenly shouted "WAIT!"<br/>Morr knew that arguing with a demon could only prove fruitless and he directed the guards, who, to their credit, in this situation deferred to his towering presence, to keep in a protective circle, while others should run to the armory to retrieve longer weapons. He was just about to give the command for the archers to fire, but something let him still his hand, for now.<br/><br/>He had fought demons, many of them even, wherever he had found them, in the most varying of forms, some of whom still caused his mind pain whenever he thought of them, but somehow this spawn seemed different, although that of course could just be part of some ruse. With the guards standing in disciplined lines, ready to fend the beast off, Morr was emboldened enough to retort to the beast "I give you one chance to name a reason why we should not just kill you, fiend!"