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Warning, violent and cruel content.
Zazeal, Kaur, and Volgun
The driving rains patter sharp tattoos across the streets. All of the dust has long since been churned into mud by the Dunamai's deluge, making the going hard for the carriage that trundles down the temple road. It is drawn by two stamping aurochs, their pelts shorn short and horns cut down so they don't gore each other's eyes out. The carriage, oversized as well, lurches to a halt in front of the temple. Braziers are lit within, though no one currently guards the outside--there are none to keep Zazeal Smokestep, master of the BLOOD PITS, from his task. The carriage door swings open and down steps the minotaur, lifting a hand against the rain pelting his face and slicking his clothes to his burly frame. There was no point in trying to stay dry, not with the task at hand.
"You two!" Zazeal called above the roar of the storm. Two furres, already soaked through, jumped down from the back of the wagon. Both were armed to the teeth and wore leather armor. The rhinoceros paused to remove the tiny crate from where it had been lashed to the top of the carriage, carrying it under one arm as he followed the minotaur up the temple's steps. The other, a crocodile, shot a nervous glance up into the black sky, then hurried after the other two. "That scrawny cat better be here," Zazeal muttered, half to himself, as they ascended. Lightning shrieked through the air, bringing with it the sharp scent of ozone and making everything bright as day for a brief moment. "Is it still in there?" The rhinoceros shook the crate harshly, prompting the minotaur to snort and glower. For a moment steam seemed to rise from his scarlet markings. "Stop that! It's no use to me dead."
They made their way up to the roof of the temple, the sounds of their footsteps lost in the wild cacophony. The hair on the back of Zazeal's neck stood straight up, and he shuddered with perverse glee. If this had any success, he would be sure to thoroughly exploit it the next time the Dunamai rolled around. "Warlock!" Zazeal roared once they'd reached the peak. "Are you here, warlock?"
Even housed in a crate - which should have been considered safe enough - Kaur was bound and gagged. As, surely, when she'd been simply plucked up, after a few little lightning dragons snapping at the asses of any around, it had been deemed necessary. After all, didn't want her escaping before the fun began.... What would happen when one sacrificed something with already some minor magic talent to the storm? So far, all anyone had ever done were mundane beings, with varying success. But what about this little one? From the shaken crate came a muffled whimper and screech, gagged words flooding out.
Volgun Lansing was nowhere to be seen as Zazeal's voice filled the air, audible even above the constant din of the rain and the thunder. "I'm here," the feline's voice rang out from a corner. At once emerged from a dark corner a roiling mass of warping light and mist, like a prismatic cloud. With an audible "whoosh," the vapor swirled and parted to reveal the hooded warlock standing in plain sight. It was clear that the tempest that raged around them had affected him as well. His eyes and markings pulsed and shimmered with soft white light, and around him billowed and gathered more swirling fog, trails of them seeping from his exposed fur and flesh. Sparks and pinpricks of light occasionally flared within the nebula, and every breath he exhaled added to the haze. "...Are you ready to begin, Minotaur?"
Zazeal's ears twitch at the sound of the cat's voice, and he turns to watch him emerge from a vortex of fog and light, perturbing the fall of the rain. The minotaur's sharp teeth bare in a sort of greeting grin, as unpleasant as it is. Their eyes and markings both stood out in the gloom, yellow and orange and scarlet, like streaks of flame. "I'm ready," he said, beckoning for the crate. The rhinoceros handed it to him and he popped the latch, reached in, and grasped the krin by her grubby clothing. He hoisted her up into the relentless rain for Volgun to see. "It's not much to look at, but I didn't want to waste anything valuable if it just gets fried to a crisp."
And there was Kaur, eyes wide, terrified! And immediately spotting Volgun, a familiar face - muffled pleading!! Why wasn't he helping her?! The tiny child of a Krin had had many run-ins with this cat, including having snuck onto the very ship he'd taken to arrive here! Hadn't she seen him only days before?? Kaur's thick, tufted tail slapped at Zazeal as she wriggled frantically.
Volgun Lansing stepped forwards, leaving behind the fog that had gathered around him to dissipate. He approached the krin and lifted a hand to grab her by the chin. Firm hands held tight on her jaw as he moved her face side to side. As he seemed to appraise the subject, a subtle red tinge appeared in his eyes. For a moment his brow lowered and his eyes narrowed to slits. The bridge of his nose crinkled and his upper lip receded. "Hm... young. Hedging your bet, I take it? If this one can survive..." His eyes settled on the krin a moment longer, his head only slightly canting to the side. "...Difficult to say what will happen. It appears this one is not yet affected. We are fortunate..." He ran his tongue across his lips as his eyes turned skyward. He then reached into his robe and produced an ornate brass-handled dagger, wickedly curved and sharpened to a fine edge. Volgun ran his claw and fingertip along the steel edge. "...At your command, Zazeal."
Zazeal tried to hold the wiggly krin still for Volgun to conduct his brief inspection. His grip tightened as her tail lashed and slapped him, and he gave her a brief warning shake. "I do not see the point in wasting valuable slaves or gladiators. Not yet ... not until I know this can work. Maybe I'll throw some knife ears into the fray tomorrow." He let out a low, braying guffaw, lowering Kaur though not yet setting her down. Crimson eyes skirted over Volgun's blade. "I'm ready. Where should I put her? Higher up?" He didn't want to be struck by the bolt when it came.
The muffled shrieking INTENSIFIED as she saw the blade - and it was only the rough shake that temporarily stopped her wild thrashing. But what was she to do?
Volgun Lansing's eyes flashed with a stark red as his eyes moved from the knife to Kaur. He then lifted his empty hand and extended it out to her. "No need. I will handle things from here..." The markings on his hand began to shimmer and shift in color, the vapors rising off of them turning to a sickly neon green. The mist gathered in his palm and grew to envelope his paw as his fingers curled and clawed towards the Krin. Around her neck a faint green ring would begin to form and coalesce. "Just set her down gently," he seethed as he lifted the blade skyward with his free hand. Kaur would feel an intense hold around her neck, like a heavy iron band had been clamped around it. Not tightly choking her, but certainly restrictive as she would try to wriggle free.
Zazeal licked his teeth in anticipation, the grin claiming his face so fiercely that it began to ache. "Very well." He watched the green fog from the cat's hand and enclose Kaur's throat in a restraining ring. The minotaur stooped to set her down at the very top of the temple steps, then took a pace backwards ... just in case. Hungry lightning splits the sky overhead and the trailing thunder makes the building shake violently.
The wretched little Krin found herself gagging, the more fiercely she wriggled, with the green around her neck. And of course she certainly wriggled quite a bit, once set down, some small hope for escape, freedom - quickly dashed, as she was forced into stillness to avoid the extreme discomfort of the ring around her neck against her own struggling weight. The harsh lightning and loud thunder got a muffled scream from the tiny girl, her ears flattened to her head, eyes scrunched tightly shut. Rain made it impossible to tell if the soaked, shaking rodent was also crying.
Volgun Lansing needed little time to prepare. His eyes were not merely glowing, but flaring with intense white light. "Hahh... such raw, primal energy. You should be honored, little one," he hissed to the Krin as she struggled and screamed through her bonds. The cat's smile spread into a cruel grin, "...That is, if you survive the surge," he hissed through his teeth. The blade pointed to the heavens as tendrils of vapor swirled and swam around it. The sacrificial dagger seemed to crackle and arc, reacting to the gathering bursts from the storm. The feline spoke once more, reciting the incantation. "...Et dices ad caelum... omnes spurius sunt dii!" On command, a bolt from the skies arced down, crackling into the air around them. The blade had served as an effective lightning rod, and with magic surging through him the feline guided the bolt directly towards Kaur.
Zazeal doesn't look put off by the krin's screaming--unsettlingly, he doesn't seem to care at all, nor even to notice, as if it were the sound an ant might make crushed underhoof. He was too busy staring up into the swirling clouds. In an instant they all lit up as if every raindrop were an ember, as the energy built up within and released its lightning upon the grin. "Yes!" brayed the minotaur, bucking his head and scraping one hoof upon the stone.
Volgun's possible last ever look at the rodent would be her wide, pleading eyes-- BOOM. The ground around her smoldered, burnt. When everyone's vision finally cleared, they'd see Kaur still indeed existed - instead of simply being a smoking pile of ash! Her clothing and bindings, however... far gone. And perhaps for the better, as, on the crumpled rodent, hanging momentarily unconscious from the green ring 'round her neck, were an enormous pair of opalescent dragonfly wings, colors wildly flashing along them as the last of the lightning's magic coursed through her, slowly dissipating. ... The only other noticeable change for the tiny rodent was black hair now turned to spiked, shocking white. But her eyes were still closed....
Volgun Lansing had frozen as the lightning struck Kaur head-on, holding his pose with his hand outstretched towards her. As his eyes adjusted following the flash, his hands slowly lowered. He relaxed his poise and tucked the blade within his sash once more. His eyes widened as he beheld the changed Kaur. "...Gods, it worked. Are those... wings?" He cocked his head to the side, leaning in and peering close at the young Krin. A faint green glow continued to pulse around one of his hands, though weakly. He didn't smile, though his eyes were intent and apprehensive, roaming across her new changes curiously. "Hm... would you call this a success, lord Minotaur?"
Zazeal squinted against the overwhelming brightness, even throwing up a hand to shield his eyes as he cringed away from the blast. All his fur stood on end and gooseflesh ran rampant beneath it. When darkness rushed in in lightning's wake, he blinked away the stars, staring at the spot where the tiny krin sat ... at first he could see nothing, and thought she had been obliterated. But then, gleaming in the dark, he noticed the first two changes. Letting out a low of triumph, he clopped back over to her, grabbed one of the wings (making some attempt at gentleness, though not for her sake), and stretched it open. "Not what I'd imagined, but in Ares' name, a success nonetheless."
Zazeal released the wing. "They look fragile. Not good for the arena, though perhaps a hardier subject would yield sturdier wings ..." Noticing only now that her hair had changed color, he pinched a lock of it between thumb and forefinger and pulled it straight. "Yes, warlock--I would indeed dub this a success ... provided she isn't brain-dead. And who knows? Perhaps there were other changes as well ..."
Volgun Lansing's brow lowered as he pursed his lips, listening as Zazeal looked over the Krin. "A proof of concept, at the very least. Lasting transmutation, and this is just from raw magic..." He smiled as he folded one arm across his chest, the other hand curled in front of his chin in a thoughtful gesture. That smile spread to a grin, albeit only briefly as he looked back to Zazeal. His expression went neutral once more, clearing his throat before speaking again. "...Best to keep her around. After all, this will all be for naught if these changes only last a day or two, and of course further study will be needed..."
Zazeal smirked and gave the krin a nudge with his cloven hoof. "Yes. We'll see if it lasts ... and if she wakes up. You!" He snapped his fingers to get the rhinoceros's attention. "Pack her up!" The guard procured a length of woven jute from his pouch to bind her wrists and ankles--for good measure, he also tied a few loops around her torso to pin her wings against her back, albeit rather gently. While his lackey worked, Zazeal rounded on the warlock, sizing him up with intent scarlet eyes. "I believe there's the matter of your payment ..." He fished a golden luceat from his elf-face purse and pondered tossing it to Volgun, but with the driving winds and rains, thought better of it and handed it over instead. "I would seek your services in the future, perhaps, if this pans out in my favor."
It was only as she was being stuffed back in the crate that Kaur's eyes fluttered briefly open; the buzzing in her head, everything 'round her swimming, this new ache in her back, every hair feeling singed and her scalp prickling.... Those eyes, full of color and not a drop of white, closed....and the rodent once more went limp, as the two discussed if she'd ever even wake again. Had anyone even seen?
Volgun Lansing unfolded a hand to receive the Luceat, and accepted it with a smile before tucking it into a pocket in his robe. He then made a bow to the Minotaur, "By all means. I rather enjoyed this..." He looked to the heavens once more, breathing in the energized air and exhaling a faint cloud. He'd then follow behind the entourage as they would exit from the temple. As they parted, the warlock would vanish from view, once more enveloped in a billowing light-bending haze.
Zazeal, Kaur, and Volgun
The driving rains patter sharp tattoos across the streets. All of the dust has long since been churned into mud by the Dunamai's deluge, making the going hard for the carriage that trundles down the temple road. It is drawn by two stamping aurochs, their pelts shorn short and horns cut down so they don't gore each other's eyes out. The carriage, oversized as well, lurches to a halt in front of the temple. Braziers are lit within, though no one currently guards the outside--there are none to keep Zazeal Smokestep, master of the BLOOD PITS, from his task. The carriage door swings open and down steps the minotaur, lifting a hand against the rain pelting his face and slicking his clothes to his burly frame. There was no point in trying to stay dry, not with the task at hand.
"You two!" Zazeal called above the roar of the storm. Two furres, already soaked through, jumped down from the back of the wagon. Both were armed to the teeth and wore leather armor. The rhinoceros paused to remove the tiny crate from where it had been lashed to the top of the carriage, carrying it under one arm as he followed the minotaur up the temple's steps. The other, a crocodile, shot a nervous glance up into the black sky, then hurried after the other two. "That scrawny cat better be here," Zazeal muttered, half to himself, as they ascended. Lightning shrieked through the air, bringing with it the sharp scent of ozone and making everything bright as day for a brief moment. "Is it still in there?" The rhinoceros shook the crate harshly, prompting the minotaur to snort and glower. For a moment steam seemed to rise from his scarlet markings. "Stop that! It's no use to me dead."
They made their way up to the roof of the temple, the sounds of their footsteps lost in the wild cacophony. The hair on the back of Zazeal's neck stood straight up, and he shuddered with perverse glee. If this had any success, he would be sure to thoroughly exploit it the next time the Dunamai rolled around. "Warlock!" Zazeal roared once they'd reached the peak. "Are you here, warlock?"
Even housed in a crate - which should have been considered safe enough - Kaur was bound and gagged. As, surely, when she'd been simply plucked up, after a few little lightning dragons snapping at the asses of any around, it had been deemed necessary. After all, didn't want her escaping before the fun began.... What would happen when one sacrificed something with already some minor magic talent to the storm? So far, all anyone had ever done were mundane beings, with varying success. But what about this little one? From the shaken crate came a muffled whimper and screech, gagged words flooding out.
Volgun Lansing was nowhere to be seen as Zazeal's voice filled the air, audible even above the constant din of the rain and the thunder. "I'm here," the feline's voice rang out from a corner. At once emerged from a dark corner a roiling mass of warping light and mist, like a prismatic cloud. With an audible "whoosh," the vapor swirled and parted to reveal the hooded warlock standing in plain sight. It was clear that the tempest that raged around them had affected him as well. His eyes and markings pulsed and shimmered with soft white light, and around him billowed and gathered more swirling fog, trails of them seeping from his exposed fur and flesh. Sparks and pinpricks of light occasionally flared within the nebula, and every breath he exhaled added to the haze. "...Are you ready to begin, Minotaur?"
Zazeal's ears twitch at the sound of the cat's voice, and he turns to watch him emerge from a vortex of fog and light, perturbing the fall of the rain. The minotaur's sharp teeth bare in a sort of greeting grin, as unpleasant as it is. Their eyes and markings both stood out in the gloom, yellow and orange and scarlet, like streaks of flame. "I'm ready," he said, beckoning for the crate. The rhinoceros handed it to him and he popped the latch, reached in, and grasped the krin by her grubby clothing. He hoisted her up into the relentless rain for Volgun to see. "It's not much to look at, but I didn't want to waste anything valuable if it just gets fried to a crisp."
And there was Kaur, eyes wide, terrified! And immediately spotting Volgun, a familiar face - muffled pleading!! Why wasn't he helping her?! The tiny child of a Krin had had many run-ins with this cat, including having snuck onto the very ship he'd taken to arrive here! Hadn't she seen him only days before?? Kaur's thick, tufted tail slapped at Zazeal as she wriggled frantically.
Volgun Lansing stepped forwards, leaving behind the fog that had gathered around him to dissipate. He approached the krin and lifted a hand to grab her by the chin. Firm hands held tight on her jaw as he moved her face side to side. As he seemed to appraise the subject, a subtle red tinge appeared in his eyes. For a moment his brow lowered and his eyes narrowed to slits. The bridge of his nose crinkled and his upper lip receded. "Hm... young. Hedging your bet, I take it? If this one can survive..." His eyes settled on the krin a moment longer, his head only slightly canting to the side. "...Difficult to say what will happen. It appears this one is not yet affected. We are fortunate..." He ran his tongue across his lips as his eyes turned skyward. He then reached into his robe and produced an ornate brass-handled dagger, wickedly curved and sharpened to a fine edge. Volgun ran his claw and fingertip along the steel edge. "...At your command, Zazeal."
Zazeal tried to hold the wiggly krin still for Volgun to conduct his brief inspection. His grip tightened as her tail lashed and slapped him, and he gave her a brief warning shake. "I do not see the point in wasting valuable slaves or gladiators. Not yet ... not until I know this can work. Maybe I'll throw some knife ears into the fray tomorrow." He let out a low, braying guffaw, lowering Kaur though not yet setting her down. Crimson eyes skirted over Volgun's blade. "I'm ready. Where should I put her? Higher up?" He didn't want to be struck by the bolt when it came.
The muffled shrieking INTENSIFIED as she saw the blade - and it was only the rough shake that temporarily stopped her wild thrashing. But what was she to do?
Volgun Lansing's eyes flashed with a stark red as his eyes moved from the knife to Kaur. He then lifted his empty hand and extended it out to her. "No need. I will handle things from here..." The markings on his hand began to shimmer and shift in color, the vapors rising off of them turning to a sickly neon green. The mist gathered in his palm and grew to envelope his paw as his fingers curled and clawed towards the Krin. Around her neck a faint green ring would begin to form and coalesce. "Just set her down gently," he seethed as he lifted the blade skyward with his free hand. Kaur would feel an intense hold around her neck, like a heavy iron band had been clamped around it. Not tightly choking her, but certainly restrictive as she would try to wriggle free.
Zazeal licked his teeth in anticipation, the grin claiming his face so fiercely that it began to ache. "Very well." He watched the green fog from the cat's hand and enclose Kaur's throat in a restraining ring. The minotaur stooped to set her down at the very top of the temple steps, then took a pace backwards ... just in case. Hungry lightning splits the sky overhead and the trailing thunder makes the building shake violently.
The wretched little Krin found herself gagging, the more fiercely she wriggled, with the green around her neck. And of course she certainly wriggled quite a bit, once set down, some small hope for escape, freedom - quickly dashed, as she was forced into stillness to avoid the extreme discomfort of the ring around her neck against her own struggling weight. The harsh lightning and loud thunder got a muffled scream from the tiny girl, her ears flattened to her head, eyes scrunched tightly shut. Rain made it impossible to tell if the soaked, shaking rodent was also crying.
Volgun Lansing needed little time to prepare. His eyes were not merely glowing, but flaring with intense white light. "Hahh... such raw, primal energy. You should be honored, little one," he hissed to the Krin as she struggled and screamed through her bonds. The cat's smile spread into a cruel grin, "...That is, if you survive the surge," he hissed through his teeth. The blade pointed to the heavens as tendrils of vapor swirled and swam around it. The sacrificial dagger seemed to crackle and arc, reacting to the gathering bursts from the storm. The feline spoke once more, reciting the incantation. "...Et dices ad caelum... omnes spurius sunt dii!" On command, a bolt from the skies arced down, crackling into the air around them. The blade had served as an effective lightning rod, and with magic surging through him the feline guided the bolt directly towards Kaur.
Zazeal doesn't look put off by the krin's screaming--unsettlingly, he doesn't seem to care at all, nor even to notice, as if it were the sound an ant might make crushed underhoof. He was too busy staring up into the swirling clouds. In an instant they all lit up as if every raindrop were an ember, as the energy built up within and released its lightning upon the grin. "Yes!" brayed the minotaur, bucking his head and scraping one hoof upon the stone.
Volgun's possible last ever look at the rodent would be her wide, pleading eyes-- BOOM. The ground around her smoldered, burnt. When everyone's vision finally cleared, they'd see Kaur still indeed existed - instead of simply being a smoking pile of ash! Her clothing and bindings, however... far gone. And perhaps for the better, as, on the crumpled rodent, hanging momentarily unconscious from the green ring 'round her neck, were an enormous pair of opalescent dragonfly wings, colors wildly flashing along them as the last of the lightning's magic coursed through her, slowly dissipating. ... The only other noticeable change for the tiny rodent was black hair now turned to spiked, shocking white. But her eyes were still closed....
Volgun Lansing had frozen as the lightning struck Kaur head-on, holding his pose with his hand outstretched towards her. As his eyes adjusted following the flash, his hands slowly lowered. He relaxed his poise and tucked the blade within his sash once more. His eyes widened as he beheld the changed Kaur. "...Gods, it worked. Are those... wings?" He cocked his head to the side, leaning in and peering close at the young Krin. A faint green glow continued to pulse around one of his hands, though weakly. He didn't smile, though his eyes were intent and apprehensive, roaming across her new changes curiously. "Hm... would you call this a success, lord Minotaur?"
Zazeal squinted against the overwhelming brightness, even throwing up a hand to shield his eyes as he cringed away from the blast. All his fur stood on end and gooseflesh ran rampant beneath it. When darkness rushed in in lightning's wake, he blinked away the stars, staring at the spot where the tiny krin sat ... at first he could see nothing, and thought she had been obliterated. But then, gleaming in the dark, he noticed the first two changes. Letting out a low of triumph, he clopped back over to her, grabbed one of the wings (making some attempt at gentleness, though not for her sake), and stretched it open. "Not what I'd imagined, but in Ares' name, a success nonetheless."
Zazeal released the wing. "They look fragile. Not good for the arena, though perhaps a hardier subject would yield sturdier wings ..." Noticing only now that her hair had changed color, he pinched a lock of it between thumb and forefinger and pulled it straight. "Yes, warlock--I would indeed dub this a success ... provided she isn't brain-dead. And who knows? Perhaps there were other changes as well ..."
Volgun Lansing's brow lowered as he pursed his lips, listening as Zazeal looked over the Krin. "A proof of concept, at the very least. Lasting transmutation, and this is just from raw magic..." He smiled as he folded one arm across his chest, the other hand curled in front of his chin in a thoughtful gesture. That smile spread to a grin, albeit only briefly as he looked back to Zazeal. His expression went neutral once more, clearing his throat before speaking again. "...Best to keep her around. After all, this will all be for naught if these changes only last a day or two, and of course further study will be needed..."
Zazeal smirked and gave the krin a nudge with his cloven hoof. "Yes. We'll see if it lasts ... and if she wakes up. You!" He snapped his fingers to get the rhinoceros's attention. "Pack her up!" The guard procured a length of woven jute from his pouch to bind her wrists and ankles--for good measure, he also tied a few loops around her torso to pin her wings against her back, albeit rather gently. While his lackey worked, Zazeal rounded on the warlock, sizing him up with intent scarlet eyes. "I believe there's the matter of your payment ..." He fished a golden luceat from his elf-face purse and pondered tossing it to Volgun, but with the driving winds and rains, thought better of it and handed it over instead. "I would seek your services in the future, perhaps, if this pans out in my favor."
It was only as she was being stuffed back in the crate that Kaur's eyes fluttered briefly open; the buzzing in her head, everything 'round her swimming, this new ache in her back, every hair feeling singed and her scalp prickling.... Those eyes, full of color and not a drop of white, closed....and the rodent once more went limp, as the two discussed if she'd ever even wake again. Had anyone even seen?
Volgun Lansing unfolded a hand to receive the Luceat, and accepted it with a smile before tucking it into a pocket in his robe. He then made a bow to the Minotaur, "By all means. I rather enjoyed this..." He looked to the heavens once more, breathing in the energized air and exhaling a faint cloud. He'd then follow behind the entourage as they would exit from the temple. As they parted, the warlock would vanish from view, once more enveloped in a billowing light-bending haze.
Zazeal stalks down into the cells under the arena. The rain had since stopped pelting every roof and wall in the city, and the thunder had dwindled to a distant rumble, then faded altogether. Word had raced fast as the lightning about the stormborn. Some rumors claimed she'd been turned into a horrific beast for the minotaur's infraction--others said she'd been blessed by the gods. Zazeal wasn't ignorant of the words on the wind. Now all that was left to be seen was if the subject was alive. She was left bound in her crate overnight. The minotaur stooped to pick it up and squint at the little krin inside it. "Wake up." His eyes almost glowed in the dim dungeon light.
Left soaked and bound, Kaur had not fared well at all, but she was, at least...still alive. Though perhaps any other besides her precocious child self might have wished otherwise, in the same situation. The dungeon had plenty of other beasts, many of whom grumbled, yelped, yelled...a noisy bunch that left the krin hardly likely to react, until her crate itself had started to move. Stiff, the little thing snuffled and sneezed awake, large, incredibly odd eyes fluttering only half open at the voice. Then back closed, tightly, ears pinning back in quiet fear as the little thing started sobbing. Jeez.
Zazeal tilted the cage back and forth to inspect the little creature, then opened the latch and reached in to grab her by the scruff. He pulled her out and kicked the crate aside with a clatter. The beasts in the cages eyed the krin hungrily, yipping and drooling and making a racket. "Quiet!" roared the minotaur, rewarded with silence--at least for the moment. Then, in a softer but by no means kindly voice, he asked, "You smart enough to talk?"
Even without the bindings, little Kaur would have hung there like a pup, held by the scruff; the little krin was, in fact, almost a ball, as the minotaur shouted!! And she shook, though it could easily have been from her still-damp fur, or the chill of the dungeon. She smelled like piss. Still - managed to nod, if not actually answer; after all, the poor thing still had that gag in her mouth. Rude. ...The loosely bound wings gave a soft thrumming twitch; before, they'd been soft, like a butterfly freshly emerged; now, they were strong and hardened. Or, well, as strong as dragonfly wings got.
Zazeal is used to the rank smell of urine and offal in the cages--they aren't kept in the best of conditions. At her nod, the minotaur untied the gag and yanked it from her mouth, though he left her in her restraints. He sat her down on top of the crate and took a step back to inspect her, stroking his chin. He didn't entirely expect to get this far. "Hm. You are reborn of the storm, little krin. Before you were trash, but now perhaps you can be of use to the world. What gifts did the storm give you, other than the wings? And eugh, your eyes."
Coughing, spitting; scraping her tongue against her buck teeth, all in an effort to get rid of the taste of that rancid gag. Even once sat down, the little thing felt like she'd just fall over. Exhausted, weak. ...Despite the thrum inside her, a thrum not at all related to the wings on her back. Kaur could mostly understand him; this was a language much more familiar to her than those further west, after all. But it still took her and her tired mind a moment, and when she spoke, it was in a language of the Mhatbas. "..My eyes..? What.. my eyes..." Stopped herself, switched to Latin. "Water..?" asked the tiny, squeaky voice.
Zazeal's scarlet eyes narrowed as he watched her spluttering and begin to chatter in an eastron tongue. "Speak Latin," he barked, just as she switched over. When asked about her eyes, the minotaur drew his janbiya, polished to a mirrorlike shine. It would be huge compared to the skinny krin, as it was crafted to fit the monster's oversized hand. He allowed her to get a look at her reflection. Her request for water is met with a sneer. It wouldn't do to have her die so soon, but he hadn't brought any water down. In lieu of that he reached into his elf-face pouch and procured a silver-worked flask, which he opened and put to her lips. "Drink," he said, tipping the flask. "You'll get water later."
Oh, the poor thing looked in absolute HORROR at her own reflection! And it was obvious just how disturbed by it she was, including a small whimper; but then, here was the flask pressed to her lips; one sip was all it took to keep her from begging for anything more, and it was only fear that kept her from spitting it right back out! After swallowing, little Kaur just coughed and coughed, probably amusing if not for the probably grumpy nature of the minotaur! "Please - untie? I am.. I am hurting! I am cold! I am hungry!" A loud whimper brought her flopping back and onto her side, wings buzzing and tittering in their restraint. Could they even bear her aloft, were they loose?
Zazeal capped his flask and returned it to his pouch, giving the elf's forehead an affectionate rub with his thumb. Possibly to Kaur's surprise the minotaur barks out a hoarse and cruel laugh at her reaction to the drink. "Untie you? I think not. You'll get food if you behave--and maybe a blanket if I'm feeling generous. Do you understand?" He snorted, a blast of warm air that might reach the little krin. Her buzzing wings soon drew his eye ... but it would be unwise to let her loose just yet. She needed more time to stew and accept her fate. "What else changed, little krin? What other gifts have been bestowed upon you?"
Well, she certainly wouldn't be asking for a hug, then. "What? What? I-" But what would Kaur even know? Was there something magic that'd alert her to this gift or that? The little rodent inch wormed a touch on the crate, trying to scoot around, be less uncomfortable. But this buzzing.. it was building up. But what was it?! Kaur groaned as if in distress and pain, rolled again.
Zazeal lets out an annoyed snort at the krin's continued confusion. She was in no state to be questioned just yet. "If that's how you want to play ... I can wait." The minotaur stooped to grab her by the scruff again, prepared to toss her into a cage. At least it would be a little bigger than the crate.
Fear was coursing through the little krin, spurred on by the buzz, the buzz in turn fed by further fear - the hand on her scruff seemed to snap it! BZZZZT! The power was explosive, the shock enough to throw the two of them apart; and though it charred away the bindings on the little rodent...well, when she slammed into a wall, and the sheer expenditure of the explosion left her, once more, very much so unconscious.
Zazeal doesn't notice the buildup of energy until it's too late. He lets out a very undignified squealing bray as his hand and arm erupt into burning pins and needles. The tiny krin went flying from his grasp as he staggered backwards, hooves clomping madly in an effort to keep him standing. "Gods' names!" he roared, grabbing his injured hand. His eyes and markings almost glowed and the air around him went furnace-hot for just a moment. He stormed back over to her and nudged her with his hoof, only to find her unconscious once more. Another hoof nudge before he reached down to poke her, and, if unzapped, picked her up. "Little fuck." Yet it was an interesting turn of events. This magical ability, if it was gifted by the storm, made her even more of a valuable asset... though far harder to control. Zazeal tossed her unceremoniously into an empty cage, small but larger than the crate at least.
Left soaked and bound, Kaur had not fared well at all, but she was, at least...still alive. Though perhaps any other besides her precocious child self might have wished otherwise, in the same situation. The dungeon had plenty of other beasts, many of whom grumbled, yelped, yelled...a noisy bunch that left the krin hardly likely to react, until her crate itself had started to move. Stiff, the little thing snuffled and sneezed awake, large, incredibly odd eyes fluttering only half open at the voice. Then back closed, tightly, ears pinning back in quiet fear as the little thing started sobbing. Jeez.
Zazeal tilted the cage back and forth to inspect the little creature, then opened the latch and reached in to grab her by the scruff. He pulled her out and kicked the crate aside with a clatter. The beasts in the cages eyed the krin hungrily, yipping and drooling and making a racket. "Quiet!" roared the minotaur, rewarded with silence--at least for the moment. Then, in a softer but by no means kindly voice, he asked, "You smart enough to talk?"
Even without the bindings, little Kaur would have hung there like a pup, held by the scruff; the little krin was, in fact, almost a ball, as the minotaur shouted!! And she shook, though it could easily have been from her still-damp fur, or the chill of the dungeon. She smelled like piss. Still - managed to nod, if not actually answer; after all, the poor thing still had that gag in her mouth. Rude. ...The loosely bound wings gave a soft thrumming twitch; before, they'd been soft, like a butterfly freshly emerged; now, they were strong and hardened. Or, well, as strong as dragonfly wings got.
Zazeal is used to the rank smell of urine and offal in the cages--they aren't kept in the best of conditions. At her nod, the minotaur untied the gag and yanked it from her mouth, though he left her in her restraints. He sat her down on top of the crate and took a step back to inspect her, stroking his chin. He didn't entirely expect to get this far. "Hm. You are reborn of the storm, little krin. Before you were trash, but now perhaps you can be of use to the world. What gifts did the storm give you, other than the wings? And eugh, your eyes."
Coughing, spitting; scraping her tongue against her buck teeth, all in an effort to get rid of the taste of that rancid gag. Even once sat down, the little thing felt like she'd just fall over. Exhausted, weak. ...Despite the thrum inside her, a thrum not at all related to the wings on her back. Kaur could mostly understand him; this was a language much more familiar to her than those further west, after all. But it still took her and her tired mind a moment, and when she spoke, it was in a language of the Mhatbas. "..My eyes..? What.. my eyes..." Stopped herself, switched to Latin. "Water..?" asked the tiny, squeaky voice.
Zazeal's scarlet eyes narrowed as he watched her spluttering and begin to chatter in an eastron tongue. "Speak Latin," he barked, just as she switched over. When asked about her eyes, the minotaur drew his janbiya, polished to a mirrorlike shine. It would be huge compared to the skinny krin, as it was crafted to fit the monster's oversized hand. He allowed her to get a look at her reflection. Her request for water is met with a sneer. It wouldn't do to have her die so soon, but he hadn't brought any water down. In lieu of that he reached into his elf-face pouch and procured a silver-worked flask, which he opened and put to her lips. "Drink," he said, tipping the flask. "You'll get water later."
Oh, the poor thing looked in absolute HORROR at her own reflection! And it was obvious just how disturbed by it she was, including a small whimper; but then, here was the flask pressed to her lips; one sip was all it took to keep her from begging for anything more, and it was only fear that kept her from spitting it right back out! After swallowing, little Kaur just coughed and coughed, probably amusing if not for the probably grumpy nature of the minotaur! "Please - untie? I am.. I am hurting! I am cold! I am hungry!" A loud whimper brought her flopping back and onto her side, wings buzzing and tittering in their restraint. Could they even bear her aloft, were they loose?
Zazeal capped his flask and returned it to his pouch, giving the elf's forehead an affectionate rub with his thumb. Possibly to Kaur's surprise the minotaur barks out a hoarse and cruel laugh at her reaction to the drink. "Untie you? I think not. You'll get food if you behave--and maybe a blanket if I'm feeling generous. Do you understand?" He snorted, a blast of warm air that might reach the little krin. Her buzzing wings soon drew his eye ... but it would be unwise to let her loose just yet. She needed more time to stew and accept her fate. "What else changed, little krin? What other gifts have been bestowed upon you?"
Well, she certainly wouldn't be asking for a hug, then. "What? What? I-" But what would Kaur even know? Was there something magic that'd alert her to this gift or that? The little rodent inch wormed a touch on the crate, trying to scoot around, be less uncomfortable. But this buzzing.. it was building up. But what was it?! Kaur groaned as if in distress and pain, rolled again.
Zazeal lets out an annoyed snort at the krin's continued confusion. She was in no state to be questioned just yet. "If that's how you want to play ... I can wait." The minotaur stooped to grab her by the scruff again, prepared to toss her into a cage. At least it would be a little bigger than the crate.
Fear was coursing through the little krin, spurred on by the buzz, the buzz in turn fed by further fear - the hand on her scruff seemed to snap it! BZZZZT! The power was explosive, the shock enough to throw the two of them apart; and though it charred away the bindings on the little rodent...well, when she slammed into a wall, and the sheer expenditure of the explosion left her, once more, very much so unconscious.
Zazeal doesn't notice the buildup of energy until it's too late. He lets out a very undignified squealing bray as his hand and arm erupt into burning pins and needles. The tiny krin went flying from his grasp as he staggered backwards, hooves clomping madly in an effort to keep him standing. "Gods' names!" he roared, grabbing his injured hand. His eyes and markings almost glowed and the air around him went furnace-hot for just a moment. He stormed back over to her and nudged her with his hoof, only to find her unconscious once more. Another hoof nudge before he reached down to poke her, and, if unzapped, picked her up. "Little fuck." Yet it was an interesting turn of events. This magical ability, if it was gifted by the storm, made her even more of a valuable asset... though far harder to control. Zazeal tossed her unceremoniously into an empty cage, small but larger than the crate at least.
