To Morr, the beast listened, but winced at the word 'man', recoiling so much as to lift its right foreleg into the air. Its ears drooped, and it hung its head low. Even its bestial timbre couldn't hide the shame in his words; its voice was quieter now. “There is a name, written among a list of dead, far from here. The man that wore it is no more a man; he was lost, and mourned. He was a man that should- that would have taken death ten times over, rather than become what I am. Out of respect for him, not me, I ask you let him rest.”<br/><br/>Al's words drew no fire nor posturing from the creature; no angry arch of the back or defiant spread of the wings to challenge his accusations. It merely turned its head to watch him speak, with the quiet patience of one being told what he already knows.<br/><br/>“I have come here for redemption, armoured one... In service, or in sacrifice. It was a weak will in the face of death that saw me to this wicked fate, and I've come now to rectify that; this thing I've brought has wounded me greatly, and wounded others- I would see it locked away, and for I to guard the lock; it gave me wings to travel far, but I will stay. It gave me strength to kill, but I will serve. Worst of all... It took from me my place among my comrades in arms. It took from me my purpose. To find it again here would be both penance and reward...” It sighed heavily. “As would a merciful death. I do not know if my mind will forever remain my own, or if it will fade from me; whether the demon intends I become a mindless beast or have to live with the knowledge of what I've lost. But so long as there is even the slightest chance I could an innocent, that I could become the  very sort of beast I once slew, then I cannot leave here. I do not, in truth, know if I desire redemption or if I, again, merely fear death... But if you leave me my life, I will see I work to the former. If I cannot...” He let the words hang in the air, their meaning as cold and stark as the spearheads and blades of the men around him.