"...Wanna little orgy as thanks!"
Erviel paused and proceeded to blink, lavender eyes formerly narrowed wide to match the rest of his dumbfounded expression at the joyful grin across the gargoyle leader's face.
"...You what?"
"Y'know… an orgy?" The leader reiterated with some hesitation whilst cupping his bloated stone sack, the confident smile across his face wavering. "...You tellin' me another round ain't your cup of tea? After all we've been through together?" His head lowered to gaze at the cum-stained floor of the chapel, talons raking against the old wood as he shuffled his large feet almost carelessly. "Low blow, kiddo. What sorta Corrupted are you if you ain't thirsty for sex whenever the moment arrives?"
"I might just say no if you and your brigade of winged boyfriends keep pouting like a bunch of sissies." The cloaked Corrupted growled in thinly-veiled irritation at the sight of the gargoyle underlings mirroring their leader's actions, before gazing up to said leader with a hefty sigh and small smile. "But, since you're so goddamn insistent, fine. Wouldn't count on the dragon joining in if I were you though. Him on the other hand..." He motioned to the dumbstruck Ilvir still held in one of the stone demon's arms with a claw, who froze as reinvigorated attention shifted to him. "...I really don't care what you do with him. Keep him if you want."
"What? Have I no say in this-?"
"Now you're speaking our language, kiddo!" The gargoyle leader rumbled with a jovial laugh as he gave a hefty pat to Erviel's back, to the Corrupted being's unexpressed agony. "Speakin' of, don't think we've had the luxury of introducin' ourselves like a good crowd of proper gents, eh?"
"Yeah… not really, no." Erviel's head shook slowly slowly between breaths, maw clenched tight with a squeak.
The winged demon leader smirked upon stepping away from him, placing a fist across his patterned stone chest and flaring his wings out in a dramatic flourish, tail whipping about behind him. "The name's Garth. Sure you can already tell, but I'm the big daddio of this lil' gang of rock-hard 'goyles." He winked, gesturing to his underlings with his other hand before pointing a finger to the stocky demon holding Ilvir. "Worc there is my right-hand 'goyle, 'n almost gives yours truly a run for his money with how stone-cold he can be! He's actually a big ol' softie as you can see. Might just melt into concrete with how hard he's coming onto that holy friend of yours."
"Aw shucks, boss..." Worc's head turned away bashfully, runes across his body shifting to a violet hue as he continued to run his claws through a silent Ilvir's hair. "You tryna rat me out a fool to the new-blood already? S'pose it's only fittin' for the one 'n only stone 'goyle Garth himself to be so damn ruthless."
"Hey, what can I say? Nothin' says you have more authority 'n charm than another 'goyle bending over for you. An entire group of 'em, no less." Garth winked while flashing his trademark grin to his underlings, crossing his arms across his chest as he glanced down to Erviel once more. "So, deal for a deal then? We help you send these Corrupted doomsday ruffians outta our turf 'n save your scaly boyfriend, 'n you give us another round of hot steamy action in return?"
"Could've sworn I already said yes." He muttered flatly, adjusting the hood of his cloak to lock eyes with the leader of the stone legion. "But yeah. Deal's a deal. I make no promises for what happens after that though, got it?"
"Sure, sure. Whatever you say, kiddo." Garth nodded nonchalantly, casually gliding a clawed hand across his half-hard cock. "This'll probably be the most fun me 'n the gang have had in a long time, ain't that right boys?"
"You said it, boss." Worc commented still clutching Ilvir, acting as a catalyst for a torrent of jolly hollars and unintelligent growling from the rest of the stone legion.
"...Right then, moving on." Erviel grumbled as the rowdy demons' cries filtered away, lavender eyes rising to the large open space at the ceiling of the chapel. "Any of you stone fucks mind explaining to me why this place looks so trashed? Wouldn't call this the most ideal living place."
"Of all things you wanna ask us, it's architecture? Not even, 'how do you cum when you're made of rock?'" Garth's head lowered in dejection, wings folding inwards. "Guess I'll have to give up my throne for the most stone-cold 'goyle around."
"Trust me. At this point a talking lump of rock with a dick is the least interesting thing I've seen so far." Erviel shrugged in apathy, gaze averting back to the pouting Garth. "Also, that had nothing to do with my question."
Garth sighed, straightening his posture and extending his wings once more; ground rumbling beneath his feet as he trekked to the far front of the chapel where the mold-infested altar sat, turning to face his underlings and pair of Corrupted and human guests after a short moment of drawn-out silence.
"Va'grond, we call it. 'City of the Damned.'" The stone gargoyle muttered without a shred of his jolly old self, crimson-violet eyes bearing through Erviel's own. "You see these nifty little carvings on our bodies?" He ran a claw across his chest, the geometric patterns dimming to a low crimson; Worc and his underlings mirroring his actions. "They're kinda like brands, so to speak. We're bound to this city 'til the day we die. Which is probably never, since we're made of stone 'n all."
"So a prison then." Erviel concluded, pressing a claw to his lower jaw. "Gonna assume you all weren't like this before either?"
"Oh yeah." Garth nodded, gaze falling to his feet. "We had families 'n stuff like that. 'Course, now we just have each other. Not a bad life, though." His head lifted with a trademark grin, though it too wavered. "Could be called a prison, but the thing is, it ain't for us. We're just the guards."
"Stone gargoyles acting as guards for a city-scale prison, huh?" Erviel mused, eyes narrowing. "There were a bunch of lines like the ones you and your boy-harem are sporting all throughout the ground before coming here. There better not be more shit I have to deal with aside from those damn cultists."
"Heh, you're a funny one, kiddo." Garth chuckled at his clear frustration, grinning faintly. "Sure you wanna know the truth? The dark secret of Va'grond? The thing keepin' us bound 'till our days be due?"
"Try me."