Caleb’s eyes finally adjusted, and he could make out more details in the murk. The griffin’s fur was matted in spots, evidence of his tortuous confinement. Blood oozed from half-healed cuts on his flank. Black patches along his forelimbs looked disturbingly like burns.

Beast or not, Caleb found his fury rising once more at the Myrkur’s callous, degrading treatment of this creature. He moved forward to see how he could help. Before he could take more than a single step, Tavia moved her horn to block him.

“Your intent is a kind one,” she warned. “But there is compassionate, and there is foolhardy. Griffins are fell beasts, unintelligent and savage.”

The griffin let out a snort through its muzzled beak. It shook its head back and forth as if to say No.

“Tavia,” he pointed out, “that griffin just shook its head at your words. It has to understand what we’re saying.”

“That might be the only way the thing’s head moves!”

That can’t be right, he thought furiously. If one non-human creature can be intelligent, why can’t a second one be as well?

It came to him in a flash.

“Griffin,” he called. “If you can understand my words, look me in the eye.”

The stern eagle face turned towards him. Instantly, a new screen popped up in Caleb’s view.

Name: Grimshaw of the Reyka Pride, Reykajar Aerie Class: Barbarian Alignment: Chaotic Good Griffin-Specific Specialties: Flight, Swimming/Diving, Wilderness Survival… Barbarian Sub-Specialties: Persistent Rage, Intimidating Presence, Unarmored Attack Existing Buff / Debuffs: Physical Abilities Reduced by 25% from Age-Related Limitations. Physical Abilities Further Reduced by 8% from multiple torture sessions, multiple soul drainings, deep puncture wounds, sword cuts, burns, bruised ribs. Potential Buff / Debuffs: Ennui.

Caleb stared at the one particular line that jumped out at him.

Multiple torture sessions, multiple soul drainings, deep puncture wounds, sword cuts, burns, bruised ribs…and he’s only down by eight percent? Holy crap, this guy’s a tank!

“Okay, Grimshaw,” he began, as he ducked under Tavia’s horn and began moving towards the griffin. “My name is Caleb, and my equine paladin friend here is Tavia. We’re prisoners like you, only we’re trying to break out of here. We could use your help.”

The unicorn stared at him, incredulous.

“How do you know this thing even has a name?”

He blinked as a sudden realization hit him: Tavia didn’t have the Outer / Inner Sight.

“I’ll explain later,” he said, before turning back towards Grimshaw. “I’m going to remove that muzzle of yours first. Will you try and harm either of us if I do that?”

The griffin shook its regal head once more. Caleb walked up to stand before him.

I hope Chaotic Good means Truthful to a Fault, he thought. With one swift movement, he slipped the strap holding the muzzle in place over the back of the creature’s head.

The griffin shook the device off. He shook his head, then opened and closed his beak a few times. He then glared at the unicorn.

“Thou art a fool, unicorn!” Grimshaw spat, in a gruff voice. “Were I but free, I would break thy horn and beat thee senseless with it!”

Tavia’s dark brows shot up in surprise. “You can talk!”

“Thy friend is either ignorant or bone-headed,” the griffin said to Caleb. “Her kind has long known mine, and mine hers. Dwell not upon her fair words. Unicorns are creatures most treacherous and vile.”

“That’s enough,” Caleb said firmly. “Put a lid on it, both of you!”

He wasn’t as shocked as Tavia that Grimshaw could speak. Rather, it was the archaic form of the griffin’s speech that surprised him. Yet another thing he was going to have to get used to in this world.

“All right,” he continued, “I think you two just got off on the wrong foot. Or feet.”

“I have hooves,” Tavia primly informed him.

“Mine own limbs end in paws,” Grimshaw chimed in.

“Look, I think you both get where I’m going with this,” Caleb continued doggedly. “We need to escape this place before we’re all Soul Chow for the Myrkur. And there’s a bunch of families we’re going to save in the process. So whatever your differences are, you both need to put them aside. Now.”

Unicorn and griffin glared at each other once more before looking away, shamefaced.

“Ne’er have I been shamed as such,” the griffin breathed. “Great deeds await, and I shall not waste time by quarreling with either of thee. I know not how thou hast puzzled out my name, but do call me Shaw, as a friend would.”

Tavia made a horsey snort. “Nobly spoken. What the griffin said goes for me as well. We shall work as friends. For now.”

“That works for me,” Caleb agreed. “I’ll have you free in a minute, Shaw.”

He got out the keyring he’d taken from Draymon. After some trial and error, he had Shaw freed. The griffin unfurled his wings for a moment, shaking the dust off his feathers. He then arched his back with forepaws extended, like a stretching cat.

Tavia’s ears flicked forward once more. “I hear more footsteps approaching. Sounds like a large group.”

“Nay, ‘tis but a small group,” Shaw disagreed. “More the pity. Harder to share the kills.”

Caleb tucked the keys back into his pocket. Then he held up his sword and turned to face the room’s entrance.

“Whoever they are, we can’t let any of them get away,” he warned. “The longer we can keep this escape quiet, the better our chances.”

Even as he spoke, both unicorn and griffin moved out of sight, flanking the door. A squad of five black-clad Guardsmen entered the room, two carrying coils of chain. Their leader spotted Caleb, who stood alone before them.

“What is this, churl?” the man demanded. “Who gave you that sword? Where is–”

Shaw chose that moment to strike. Razor sharp claws tore apart the man on the leader’s right. The griffin pistoned his neck, snapping his beak and tearing out the next Guardsman’s throat.

The two men carrying the coiled chain dropped their burdens with a metallic jangle. The one on the left barely managed to draw his sword before Tavia leapt forward. She plunged her horn into the man’s heart, dropping him where he stood.

The other barely managed to parry Shaw’s talons as he came in, roaring and slashing. The squad leader panicked at the sound and turned, drawing one of his flintlock pistols. Caleb moved in, bringing his cutlass down in an overhand chop.

The man screamed as Caleb took his hand off at the wrist. His scream was echoed as Tavia attacked the Guardsman still holding off Shaw and ran him through with her horn. The squad leader staggered, staring at Caleb even as his stump gushed red.

“How…” he gasped, even as he groped for his sword. “How did you–”

“Not your problem anymore,” Caleb said quietly.

He swung the curved blade of his cutlass once more. The cultist fell silent in the same way as the man on the sign of The Quiet Sailor.

“Is that the last?” Tavia asked. She was breathing hard, and gore dripped from her horn, but the unicorn seemed unharmed.

“I think so,” Caleb said. “We got them all. Unless more are coming.”

“One hopes so!” Shaw declared, his beak and paws stained in splotches of scarlet. “Methinks the three of us performed as well as thrice our number. ‘Ere I die, there must be more glory to be gained!”

With that, the griffin bounded eagerly out of the room. Caleb and Tavia traded astounded glances.

“Insanity!” the unicorn shook her mane in disbelief. “Either the griffin lacks all common sense, or he’s given himself up to blood lust!”

Caleb paused just long enough to yank a belt and scabbard off one of the fallen Guardsmen. He crammed three of their flintlock pistols above one hip and sheathed his sword.

“We better follow Shaw,” he said. “If any of the Myrkur heard us fighting, then there’s going to be trouble.”

“I agree,” Tavia said. “As strong as he is, our friend won’t be able to take on the entire cult of Myr on his own.”

Caleb considered. “Frankly, I’m not sure I’d bet on that right now.”

They headed up the corridor at a run.