The bird - a falcon - was a welcome sight in the morning haze. It was life, it was grace and it was power.
He could feel something in this bird though. He looked closely as it came and landed before him on a dying bough. He looked in it's eyes, looking, studying...trying to find something.
And there it was!
The eyes! They changed, they seemed more human before, now they were the hawk's own. Someone was watching, but 'twas no demon. Nothing Gregor would have sent.

The falcon took off, flying down away from the cliff. Kral drew a blade and raced off after it, taking a path down, skipping gracefully over rocks as they drew closer to him. He was in a sprint now, closing in on the hawk's - and his own - destination.

But what he found was a horrifying sight, one he could barely keep his eyes upon. The bodies of men - even women - were strewn about, stewing in their own blood under the hot sun. Yards of offal torn from their carcasses like rivers. Organs lay strewn about among severed heads, hands and limbs.
It was a grisly sight, one Kral wished to abolish in his campaign. He wanted to turn away and vomit, but knew he could do no such thing.

But then, a glimpse of life...a fallen soldier moving amongst the gore, probably swimming in fetid blood.
Kral knew he had to help him, but he'd seen men die like this before.
He raised his sword and grasped the hilt of his other tightly.
"You there! Be you a demon I shall slay you with nary care nor fear. From whence you came I shall thrust you back."
His intimidating tone and piercing gaze were at work here. He didn't want to do this...but he had to.

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