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How long had it been?
Years? More than that? However long it had been since she'd last partaken, Evren nevertheless thrived in Trivantis' underground, chatting up slavers, procuring treasure. And planting the seeds of future transactions with someone she'd held dear, as if she'd hadn't been gone a day.
It was all well and good and natural, and something Evren had missed sorely. A few had even remembered her - and noticed that in several decades, she'd hadn't aged a day.
But despite that, the air of distract-ability hung heavy about her. The treasure she'd sought was no mere antique or scroll or strange kallin (though she'd taken those too, happily) - but the Storm-born, the latest magical mutant from the recent mana storm, heavily rumored to be in the possession of one slaver and pit-master, the Minotaur Zazeal.
The prospect excited Evren, and she eagerly rose the challenge. Such a creature shouldn't be hard to spot, especially one so garish as the hulking minotaur. And he wouldn't be phased by any human.
But this human had a big stick.
And for now, for the underground - and perhaps for some private amusement - this human was currently only one from the waist up; below, while yet clothed, tapered in the animalistic bends of legs once suited for travel four-legged - and covered with wickedly crimson scales and tipped with impatiently clicking claws at her feet. The aberration raised her height to something a bit more on par with the towering taurs.
She may have passed as an odd faun, perhaps - with a tail that yet seemed impossibly long for such an otherwise humanoid size, held delicately off the ground as one would the hem of a dress.
It contrasted sharply with a stride that meant business in every step.
Zazeal was here, somewhere. And, if her hunch was anything by which to go, was simply unable to keep quiet about his recent prizes, in the rings or in the pens.
Especially if the rumors were true...
Years? More than that? However long it had been since she'd last partaken, Evren nevertheless thrived in Trivantis' underground, chatting up slavers, procuring treasure. And planting the seeds of future transactions with someone she'd held dear, as if she'd hadn't been gone a day.
It was all well and good and natural, and something Evren had missed sorely. A few had even remembered her - and noticed that in several decades, she'd hadn't aged a day.
But despite that, the air of distract-ability hung heavy about her. The treasure she'd sought was no mere antique or scroll or strange kallin (though she'd taken those too, happily) - but the Storm-born, the latest magical mutant from the recent mana storm, heavily rumored to be in the possession of one slaver and pit-master, the Minotaur Zazeal.
The prospect excited Evren, and she eagerly rose the challenge. Such a creature shouldn't be hard to spot, especially one so garish as the hulking minotaur. And he wouldn't be phased by any human.
But this human had a big stick.
And for now, for the underground - and perhaps for some private amusement - this human was currently only one from the waist up; below, while yet clothed, tapered in the animalistic bends of legs once suited for travel four-legged - and covered with wickedly crimson scales and tipped with impatiently clicking claws at her feet. The aberration raised her height to something a bit more on par with the towering taurs.
She may have passed as an odd faun, perhaps - with a tail that yet seemed impossibly long for such an otherwise humanoid size, held delicately off the ground as one would the hem of a dress.
It contrasted sharply with a stride that meant business in every step.
Zazeal was here, somewhere. And, if her hunch was anything by which to go, was simply unable to keep quiet about his recent prizes, in the rings or in the pens.
Especially if the rumors were true...
The name of Zazeal Smokestep hadn't been on Trivantine tongues for many years--not since he had left in his youth. Only newly returned to the City of Monsters, the cunning brute knew he had to do something to make his name known again. The storm had provided. Now whispers abound about the minotaur--about his past, his household, his bloody business, and his intrusion upon the natural order.
Zazeal hadn't yet acquired a new manorhouse, and he spent much of his time trolling the undercity and slave markets for new flesh for his pits. He stood before a block now, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the men upon it. A hyooman, shaggy and wild as a manticore, had caught the minotaur's eye. He could dress up the flat-face like an eastern, woad-painted barbarian. Where Zazeal used to live such a sight wouldn't be too outlandish, but in Trivantis, it would be a novelty.
"Fifty luceats for the brute," the minotaur called to the auctioneer, who shot him a distasteful look at the lowball bid. "Look at him! Filthy, probably infested with fleas and worms. Fifty is my offer ... and a front-row seat in my arena, so you can watch what I do with him!"
With his back to the crowd, Zazeal isn't watching the passersby--but his beast-folk guards, a rhinocerous and a crocodile, scan for threats and finger their weapons. The minotaur is distinctive even among his bovine kindred, set apart by the bright scarlet markings that crawl up his snout and arms. With a bit of asking, it would be trivial for Evren to track him down.
Zazeal hadn't yet acquired a new manorhouse, and he spent much of his time trolling the undercity and slave markets for new flesh for his pits. He stood before a block now, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the men upon it. A hyooman, shaggy and wild as a manticore, had caught the minotaur's eye. He could dress up the flat-face like an eastern, woad-painted barbarian. Where Zazeal used to live such a sight wouldn't be too outlandish, but in Trivantis, it would be a novelty.
"Fifty luceats for the brute," the minotaur called to the auctioneer, who shot him a distasteful look at the lowball bid. "Look at him! Filthy, probably infested with fleas and worms. Fifty is my offer ... and a front-row seat in my arena, so you can watch what I do with him!"
With his back to the crowd, Zazeal isn't watching the passersby--but his beast-folk guards, a rhinocerous and a crocodile, scan for threats and finger their weapons. The minotaur is distinctive even among his bovine kindred, set apart by the bright scarlet markings that crawl up his snout and arms. With a bit of asking, it would be trivial for Evren to track him down.
And track him, she did!
Ev strode over to the crowd, hands folded behind her, the staff now slung across her back as lightly as one would a pack, heedless of whether or not her appearance would disrupt the gathering of buyers and sellers.
"ZAAAAA-ZEAL!" It was the triumphant and self-assured roar of a challenger stepping into a ring - and one that would undoubtedly startle a few of his bodyguards.
Her eyes flicked to the human upon the block, though it only earned a bit of a sniff and a halfheartedly appraising stare.
Whether or not the guards allowed her close didn't matter much - she'd simply spoke loudly over them. Louder, still, and bratty if met with any resistance.
"Been a while since I've seen you about, here! Heard the Pits had died out back where I'd been. Come on, see this hairy fellow put to some use!"
Ev strode over to the crowd, hands folded behind her, the staff now slung across her back as lightly as one would a pack, heedless of whether or not her appearance would disrupt the gathering of buyers and sellers.
"ZAAAAA-ZEAL!" It was the triumphant and self-assured roar of a challenger stepping into a ring - and one that would undoubtedly startle a few of his bodyguards.
Her eyes flicked to the human upon the block, though it only earned a bit of a sniff and a halfheartedly appraising stare.
Whether or not the guards allowed her close didn't matter much - she'd simply spoke loudly over them. Louder, still, and bratty if met with any resistance.
"Been a while since I've seen you about, here! Heard the Pits had died out back where I'd been. Come on, see this hairy fellow put to some use!"
When Zazeal heard his name roared over the crowds, he ground his teeth. No one could shout him down in the streets like that! Who even dared? He refused to give the anonymous caller any attention until he finished the deal. The murder that had crept into his eyes must have tipped the scales in his favor, for the auctioneer accepted his pouch and hurried off to untether the slave.
Only then did the minotaur turn, hands on hips, to regard the chattering Evren. His guards had neatly blocked her path with their bulk, but now they parted slightly so that their boss could step closer. Red eyes scanned the strange faun-like creature that stood before him. He didn't recognize her. "Yes--it is true that I've returned, at long last. Not enough blood quenches the sand for my tastes ... I aim to change that." Sharp, neat teeth are bared as the minotaur grins. "What are you, anyway? And who, for that matter ..."
Only then did the minotaur turn, hands on hips, to regard the chattering Evren. His guards had neatly blocked her path with their bulk, but now they parted slightly so that their boss could step closer. Red eyes scanned the strange faun-like creature that stood before him. He didn't recognize her. "Yes--it is true that I've returned, at long last. Not enough blood quenches the sand for my tastes ... I aim to change that." Sharp, neat teeth are bared as the minotaur grins. "What are you, anyway? And who, for that matter ..."
"Noble cause." In regards to bloodshed that was rather deliberately far from that. "I can admire that."
But she'd seemed as eager to waste as little time as she was capable, or at least aimed to cut down on the vagaries and taur-shit - she sauntered up, stopping just short of his little gathering, tail swaying behind, its length varying - an odd reward for those who'd happened to be looking - flowing along the path it had drawn for itself, trailing almost like smoke.
"Whatever I want." Almost maddeningly smug. "Right now...a buyer."
When she'd halted, that restless tail finally curled around her, to drape some of its length across her feet.
"A potential buyer, following gossip. And whispers," a pause, a pointed look, eyebrows raised, "after the storm."
But she'd seemed as eager to waste as little time as she was capable, or at least aimed to cut down on the vagaries and taur-shit - she sauntered up, stopping just short of his little gathering, tail swaying behind, its length varying - an odd reward for those who'd happened to be looking - flowing along the path it had drawn for itself, trailing almost like smoke.
"Whatever I want." Almost maddeningly smug. "Right now...a buyer."
When she'd halted, that restless tail finally curled around her, to drape some of its length across her feet.
"A potential buyer, following gossip. And whispers," a pause, a pointed look, eyebrows raised, "after the storm."
