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Fantasy [Tartarean Chronicle] The Khantorian Traditional Brawl

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Skyhunter

Bringer of Change
Roleplay Availability
Brawling Grounds Outside of Zuson Khantor
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Khantor, a country filled to the brim with Beastkin, Beastkin and even more Beastkin. But most of all, bloodthirsty and violent filled Beastkin. This is what Snare would be first introduced to, his first introduction was seeing a Ratkin get stomped on by a passing Taurus, guts and blood splattered in a pool around the poor beast, no one seemed to have bat an eye to such abhorrence. The beast was still alive for a few seconds before life faded away from it. That was all just a few days ago on Snare's travels to the biggest gathering in all of Khantor, the capital, Zuson Khantor. Along the way, Snare would see all sorts of violence unfold in this country, some would have made those softies in The Pact vomit and even faint from such acts of pure sickening violence, it would scar and give nightmares to those that witnessed what these wild beasts were capable of.

Although those that loved to see such acts committed upon life would thrive here, and oddly enough, these violent beasts here in Khantor were much more accepting than those from The Pact, there was the occasional human, elf and even a couple dwarves wielding massive hammers. If you could stand up and fight, you would thrive in such a brutal country. Except for the lowly Ratkin, the rats were treated terribly here, even those in The Pact wouldn't treat such beasts as bad as these cruel natives did. But that was the hierarchy that they always talked about. It seemed that Ratkin were all fodder, but there was an exception to this rule. But that hardly was a thing to behold. Outside of Zuson Khantor which could still be considered Zuson Khantor was the Brawling Grounds. A gathering of many beasts that had an appetite for blood and fighting, many of the Khantor Warriors gathered here to blow off steam and get rid of the bloodlust that was very common in the average Beastkin of Khantor.

Snare as he walked up to the brawling grounds would see two large goatmen duking it out with a large circle of other beasts watching that were drinking a thick dark red liquid. Each giving a raise of their skull tankard or a shout of approval when a punch was landed. The two goatmen were about the average human size, wielding no weapons and throwing punches and kicks, each had bruises and blood on their faces and body showing that this was a struggling fight between the two. The two of them looked rather similar, brothers perhaps. When one landed a nasty right hook on the other and sent the other toppling over, the dazed beastkin spun in a half circle and landed on their stomach, attempting to slowly get up the other goatman walked up behind his downed brother and knelt down placing a knee on the back as he gripped the horns on the head of the downed goatman before he started to pulling opposite directions. The other beasts watching were now leaning forward with cups raised or standing up with shouts and grunts of heavy approval.

Snare would watch as the downed goatman screamed and tried to grab his brother's hands to pull them off but he either received a slap or a punch for each attempt until he couldn't do anything but scream. Then the sound of broken keratin cracked into the air and the horns were broken off which only earned an uproar of shouts and fist pumps as the standing brother held the horns up for all to see. His downed brother held where his horns were, blood was seeping out around the base of his horns where he had his scalp torn and ripped from the pressure. Snare would gather that these beasts were very strong and durable. The downed brother slowly got up before the other goatman then kicked him in the face, knocking him down then getting on top of him and started beating him with the horns. This only continued to excite the other beastkin as they watched this battle of kin. Normally it would have been a forbidden practice in the Pact, the act of kinslaying was frowned upon but here it was approved of and encouraged. The downed brother had submitted, letting out cries of surrender and mercy. The shouts of approval began to die down when they were heard. A coward this goatman was shown to be.

The others shook their heads as the victorious brother looked angry and disappointed. He then punched his brother again and positioned him on his stomach as a fit of anger was apparent on his face as he mounted his brother. But before this act of force and dominance started, a large taurus stood up and quickly moved to the two brothers and kicked the mounted brother with a hoof, knocking him to the ground with a daze and a now hoof imprinted with dirt on his face. " We do not do that here! You do not perform Oodesh here in the Brawling Grounds, Yu'kar! " The large taurus growled sharply, the other beastmen agreed or gave grunts of approval. " Leave this place at once and take your brother with you. Before I tear your head off here in front of everyone! " The taurus took a stance with clenched fists which seemed to have terrified the two goatmen. " I knew you too are a coward. Get out! " The previously victorious brother got up and picked his loser brother up to his feet before the two scuffled out. The other beastmen giving cries of disapproval or calling out hateful words. The two goatmen moved pass Snare while the taurus watched, he then saw Snare and raised his hands to the demon and calmed his demeanor, " Welcome, traveler, you look like a fighter. You here to watch blood be spilled? Or to do some spilling of your own? " He spoke in High Beast or as civilized folk would call, gibberish. The other beastmen looked over to Snare and raised cups to the traveler or didn't do anything at all. So far, they were treating him better here than in the Pact.

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There was an eerie calm to him, despite the chaos he was witnessing unravel around him. Khantor was a place of vile brutality, and where true freedom reigned. The Pact and it's territories were far too stuffy for his particular tastes. It was only his third day of tasting air on the surface, yet it still felt like a lifetime to him. He had cut a bloody swathe in history centuries ago, yet memories of life before hell were far and few in between. The sun...and what it felt like had nearly faded from his mind. His pale skin glinting against the heat of the sweltering day. It smelled like shit here, and he blamed the matted fur of locales here. Perhaps it was because he was now a demon, but such savagery did not bother him in the slightest.

The demon was lithe and scraped six foot, keeping a distance from intervening in any encounters, but also watching every swing with intent. an oily oily tail snaking and writhing behind him with a cat's curiosity. Each fight he passed, the burning coals of his virulent eyes watched the styles of combat. They were fascinating, and he knew he was going to like this place alot. His mouth splitting like a shovel through cold ground, into a curious grin. The goats had a very curious way of fighting...very curious indeed.

The Taurus flung them out for something called 'Oodesh'; He was fortunately gifted in the speech of this region, but that particular word was foreign to him. it was then, that the folk around him started to take notice. He had a grim curiosity to see if they would persecute him as The Church did, and found a refreshing grace in their genuine excitement at his potential for joining in their brawl.

"I am eager to spill blood this time around. I have enjoyed what I have seen so far, but all it has done is stir my bloodlust you see. This is a place where might is right correct? You interest me already, but I sense I would likely die" Snare laughing with a surprising amount of humility for a demon

"Shall I choose among the crowd?"
 

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Brawling Grounds Outside of Zuson Khantor
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As the leading Taurus in this group heard Snare's words, it brought a smile to his face. He loved it when a newcomer has that bloodthirst and ambition to want to fight! It got his own blood boiling to see a foreigner act just like him, but not boiling in the bad way, boiling in excitement! This newcomer was a weird one, he looked weird, sounded weird, came off as weird. But he looked strong and that's what counts.

" Fear not death as we are all made to die one day. " He pointed up across the vast lands to the south, in the distance there was this massive ever swirling black cloud that spread across the horizon for miles on end, it was far from them, on the other side of the country yet it could still be seen from where they were standing. " The Maelstrom is where we go once we die. We become a part of the Storm that increases our strength. It's where the Stormhorn lies within. " He spoke, there was a stomping and roars of approval from those that sat around the fighting pit, massive logs that were seats for these beasts. They liked what this Taurus was saying.

" He will return one day or we will find him one day. " He spoke, " But only the strong and fearless become a part of the storm. To increase the power! When we all die! We will all be part of the storm! " He roared as he raised his fists into the air, which got a mighty roar from all the other Beastkin who either raised a fist or raised their drink. When the roars died down the Taurus chuckled looking to Snare, " We love seeing another fighter from out of Khantor come here looking for a challenge, you won't find a better place than here! Zuson Khantor has what you are looking for, Outsider. But for custom since it's your first fight in the Brawling Grounds. One of us gets to challenge you before you can take a seat and have a drink. You have to prove you are worthy enough to pick a challenge. " The Taurus continued.

" I am Algon. And I am the leader of the Brawling Grounds currently. I took the mantle from the last leader just a couple moons ago. " Algon spoke with a chuckle, his face and body had scars all over it, small cuts and slashes that parted his fur to show the flesh underneath, some had healed and others were fresh wounds. " So, who will challenge the newcomer? " Algon called into the sitting warriors. Immediately there were cries and calls from nearly all the warriors that wanted to challenge this demon in front of them, all confidant that they could kill Snare.
Algon stomped his foot on the rocky ground beneath him to quiet them down, " All eager to fight as usual! " Algon held a hardy laugh in his bellowing throat. " I'll pick the warrior. " Algon pointed to a female that was sitting on the log closest to Snare, " Mecala, you have that fiery look in your eye! Take the challenge! " Snare would see a female Taurus stand up, she was about the same height as Snare. She was much smaller than these other warriors that sat around her, she had similar features to a human too, she may be a combination of minotaur and human. But if she was here sitting with these bigger warriors then she deserved that spot. Her body was scarred similar to Algon's but had less older ones, many of hers looked very new and fresh. She stared down Snare with a look of disdain as she walked over to where Algon was standing. The larger Taurus moved to a log and sat down, taking his drink.
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" Come demon. " She raised a fist towards Snare with hateful look in her eye. " Step into the ring. " Mecala held a fighter's stance ready with both fists raised, she spoke a mix of basic and beastkin.
 
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Snare had not met a beast creature such as this, and the gravitas vibrated the air as he spoke. His coal pupils turning from the tauran, toward the massive storm he looked toward as he spoke on death. It was the last thing on his mind, but he knew his habits and passions would constantly lead him to it's doorstep. If it meant the wicked suffered then it was something he could no longer ignore, but that foolish master of his still inlaid his entire plan of retribution upon a demon, one who was wise to the ways of contracts. What was Khantor then a hotbed of wickedness and cruelty? He could practically kill anyone here and remain unscathed by his contract.

How did that blasted codger figure out my demon name?

It was a question that continued to irritate him to no end. He hadn't even become a demon until recently. His time in Hell far surpassing the blurred days of his human past; fully embracing the unspeakable depths of torture his consequences had given him. A last mockery to his makers and those who believed they understood pleasure or pain.

Why did that fool pry me from the depths of my imprisonment? what was his gain?...

Snare refocused into the present; Those questions could wait. He had been dying to blow off some steam since even the thought of slaying innocents makes the brand on his neck burn, but these beasts and warriors of cold steel...It was difficult to hide his elation as a warrior was chosen for him instead. He had picked up on a few of their customs on his travels here, but it seemed he still would have much to learn if he was to thrive here.

"I am thankful for the explanation Aglon, You have a good eye for warriors. I am sure I will be meeting everyone who raised their hand soon enough. You will find I am tenacious when it comes to blood sport"

Snare already had a feeling Mecala would be an excellent fight; a fusion of human limberness with the sturdiness of what appeared to be bull traits. That likely meant she moved fast and hit hard. He accepted her challenge and jumped into the ring; stabbing his tail into the ground and hovered moments before landing

"This is going to be exciting! Let's save pleasantries for later, I doubt you'd call me anything else until I earn it anyways"

He swung himself around and whipped toward her, a spinning top of clawed feet and hands, gathering momentum as he came at her without fault.

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Brawling Grounds Outside of Zuson Khantor
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As Snare stepped into the ring, Mecala had her fists raised up, ready for a fist fight. The warriors sitting all around the two began to let out bellows of excitement and pride. Watching the two get ready to spill blood on these sacred grounds. Aglon had a elbow on his knee as he rested his hand on his face watching Snare closely.

Mecala watched the demon closely as she stood still and waited for him to make the first move while Snare stood on his tail for a few moments. The battle was on now as Snare made the first move, Mecala witnessed his quick movements and his rapid spinning like a certain green man from the Amazon. She quickly pulled out from the back of her hip a cleaver looking weapon, she pushed the weapon in front of her as Snare collided with her weapon, catching him in his spinning motion. Mecala's eyes widen as she was pushed back several feet and realized how strong this demon was. But stopping him in his place gave her a opportunity.

Mecala pushed him back for a moment as she stepped forward and brought her free hand up to Snare's big side horn and gripped it tightly, she then pulled him forward as she threw her head forward, slamming their heads together, her front horns connected his, while there was actual contact between their skulls, Snare would feel his front horns crack from her massive and strong ones. The hit dazed him as he allowed to be released, then through his dizziness he would feel a impact on the side of his head that felt like a weapon.

His vision would come back and see that Mecala ended up hitting him with the cleaver she blocked his attack with earlier. Although the attack she struck him with wasn't that strong as the cleaver ended up breaking into pieces as she had tried to cut through his skull and head with the weapon. Most likely it was damaged or broken from Snare's earlier attack in which saved him from a worse injury. But now they were both within melee range of each other and Snare had already taken damage from Mecala. So far there were growls and roars of approval from the crowd around them.
 
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There was no greater pleasure than the thrill of combat; Snare knew he was far different than his human self long in the past. A conviction that had kept him sane during his incarceration in hell. It was like the old man read him like a book, the contract giving him the freedom he wanted; limiting him only to stay his hands on the 'wicked of the world'. His bout in hell proved to him that wickedness would always remain where free will bloomed...so it hardly was an obstacle in a world steeped in strife. That nagging question again...

Why did he do it?

Snare couldn't believe this was his first real fight, and it was like his body was moving on it's own. Was this the power demons could wield? A surprised yelp spitting through his gums as his horn was subsequently grabbed and clattered against her own strong protrusions. The coal of his pupils popping with orange embers as his bell was rung for a few moments.

"Incredible, Let's do that again"

His hands launched forward and grabbed her horns in reciprocation, lurching her head down and to the left as he scooped his head forward and aimed his horns upwards and attempting to pierce her jaw. He hadn't thought of using his horns in battle, yet here she was...making an excellent teacher. His tail sweeping the ground in front of her in an effort to take her off her feet.
 
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Mecala had a angered and surprised look on her face when her cleaver broke on Snare's skull, only leaving a minor gash. Her eyes had widen as she was now left wide open for him to retaliate in response. In which he did but in a unexpected manner. Taking grab of her horns as she was pulled down to the left, the half breed tried stopping him by pushing his head back.

She felt his tail try to sweep her feet from underneath her but luckily for her she was strong and sturdy. From being pulled down she saw his tail move towards her hooves. Using her other foot she stomped down on his tail as a quick thinking maneuver to try and stop him. But what she did didn't stop the demon's attack, only knocking him off course as she tried to pull her head back as he brought his horns up.

With Snare's tail being stomp by the force of a half minotaur, his trajectory on his head movement was off and he ended up moving up slightly off course. Snare's horns met flesh as he rose up, but with Mecala tilting her head backwards, Snare's horns didnt go through Mecala's jaw and skull from underneath. There was muffled cries of pain, Snare would feel blood dripping on his head as the half breed was moving a bit erratically. The surrounding crowd cheered and even some stood up, although Snare would catch Algon still sitting silently with his fist on his chin, watching and observing Snare.

Snare then would see a fist come up towards him and right into his stomach, so hard it knocked Snare up into the air a couple inches. Then he was grabbed by his neck and pulled down before being flung off. When he saw what happened to Mecala, she had only had Snare's horn go through her lower jaw and out of her mouth, a massive hole under her chin with half her tongue missing and a lot of blood. Mecala was holding her wound with widen eyes that held a deep hatred for Snare. She was shaking in either pain or rage. She had blood leaking badly from her open wound and fall all onto her front body and all over the ground before her.

She then fell to one knee, still clenching onto her wound as more blood leaked out. " This is it...? " She asked through massive effort. She stared at Snare. " Do it then. " She accepted her death now. She tried to get up but couldn't move, she looked worse for wear as she sat on her one knee. The crowd was erupting in both reverence and excitement. This was a great quick fight, everyone could see that the sound inflicted was a very savage one, especially through the jaw like that. All the other Beastkin were raising mugs of blood or their fists. " You don't have to kill her if you don't want to. " Algon spoke from the side to Snare. " Some warriors don't need to die if you don't want them to. "

His eyes stared at Snare's with a coldness. " You're the victor in this fight. You choose what happens next. " He then let a hand out to Mecala who still looked like she had fight left in her, her eyes were raging still but her body bad given up on her.
 
Delphinius Aurelion
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Choran customs had been a nightmare, but Ganymede expected nothing less from the backwards people of The Pact. Harassed at every gate for being a mage and having to explain his purpose for travel to two different people. On top of that he was stripped of all magical items upon entering the city and when leaving they had managed to lose majority of his inventory. That was the price he paid for choosing to travel by land, for wanting to see The Pact and know what their people were like. Next time he would sail and take his chances with the sea. His nobility afforded him some contacts in the north and those people were asked to search for clues of his master's whereabouts and inform him should they find anything. But Khantor...he knew no one hear and knew nothing of the place aside from tales of blood and beasts.

As he traveled the land bridge he could not help but to miss The Magisterium. Magic was everywhere and all manner of fantastic creature called the mountain city home. But then he thought about his mother and the duty of nobility that awaited him. "Bleh." Just the thought of being bogged down by paper work and study made him feel sick. But those wild and scattered thoughts were what helped him pass the time as he traveled from the land bridge to the desert of Khantor. There he saw gruesome brutality that would make even the cruelest Magister's stomach turn.

To say the tales did not do this place justice was an understatement. Everywhere he looked there was some form of violence or a sign that it had just occurred. The night he spent in the center of the nation was done behind a heavily locked door that he feared still needed more locks. Luckily the accommodations had a bath tub. the badge he'd gained from the leadership of Khantor, probably likely due to his status as a noble, spared him from any troubles during his journey and he was thankful for that. As well as the escort and carriage they allowed him to hire.

The next day he was on to Zuson Khantor, where a big event was taking place. If his Master was in this primitive state then he would certainly find him or clues at the brawling grounds. Right away he was overwhelmed by the fighting that seemed to happen everywhere and that paralyzed him a little. he sat in his carriage on the edge of the city and watched the world move around him. "This is the oddest place in the world. It must be."

Skyhunter Skyhunter Garbage Pail Kid Garbage Pail Kid
 
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Snare knew the look of these beastkin looked sturdy, but that did not do them justice as he felt the weight of body keep firm. He felt his horn pierce soft flesh, yet her first still collided into his ribs all the same, causing blood like any other living creature, to pray the ground. His had flecks of oily black. The nearly sent him flying out of the ring, but his tail speared into the ground and saved him from a potentially lethal fall.

He landed on the ground and went to scan for a follow up attack, but saw that his horn had done more damage than she had let on. His stance relaxing as she fell to her knees; approaching her slow as the crowd was uproarious. A creak in his abdomen as one of his ribs had cracked; She was tough as hell and when her anger changed to cold resolution. He was surprised. It was not the satisfaction of the past, why? perhaps because her misdeeds did not outweigh the good nature of a soul. He was beginning to loathe this contract of his.

"There is no satisfaction in killing someone that can get stronger" He relented "But continue hurting the unspoiled and that can change in an instant" He seethed; belying a better nature than demons were typically known for.

"Let us fight again, and get stronger still shall we?"

Snare's tail yoinking a blood chalice and hoisting in the air; picking up on some of their traditions rather quickly. He couldn't help but laugh as he then offered the cup to Mecala

"I am fast on my feet, but that punch was fantastic. Any pactborn would have been crumpled" He said, pulling her back up to her feet and clapping her shoulder
 
Brawling Grounds Outside of Zuson Khantor
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The crowd around Snare looked on quietly, anticipating on what was going to happen next. Was he going to kill her or was he going to spare her? Some beastmen were leaning forward on their logs watching with wide eyes. When Snare ultimately decided to allow Mecala to live, the Beastkin hit the logs they sat under with fists in different unison while hooting and hollering. Other beastmen raised their cups and drank to the great fight they had just witnessed. Mecala wore a shocked expression, she wasn't expecting to be spared. Especially by a demon of all things, they were known to be most bloodthirsty and she never fought against one until today. It was a goal of hers to fight one, next goal after that was to either kill one or be killed by one. A glorious kill or a glorious way to go out.

The other beastmen were now standing and raising their drinks while pumping fists. As Snare made his way over to Mecala and helped her up to her feet, she had this almost offended look upon her. But she understood what Snare was doing. In fact, she wanted to fight him again and kill him in their next fight. A older beastman wearing a Pact war helmet on his horn walked up to Mecala as she was still bleeding and offered her a small bone tablet, a plug for her massive wound in her jaw. Mecala took it and lifted her head up where Snare could see the damage, he got her good and even could see that he had cut half her tongue off vertically and even slashed the top of her mouth. She inserted the plug with no hesitation to cover the hole in her jaw then looked at Snare, taking the cup he had offered her.

" We will fight again. " Mecala spoke, getting used to how to speak the way she did now. " And I will kill you. " She raised a fist up to her face to show that she had muscle on her arms and forearms, she was strong, far stronger than most men in the Pact. " If I can't kill you. We will commit Oodesh, I will take your seed and birth strong children. " Mecala stated casually with a hint of amusement in her tone, despite the new way she spoke. " Be ready, demon. " She lightly pushed Snare on his chest before she raised the cup in the air which got the crowd in a uproar. " That was a good fight. I have learned a lot. Pactborn are weak and feeble teatsuckers that can't understand what it means to be a warrior. I hope we are to invade them again so I can kill as many as I want. " Mecala then lowered her cup and brought it to her lips where she drank the dark red liquid fully and raised her cup up again with a roar of ferocity that the other fighters around them in on the roar.

After the celebration, the Beastmen all sat back down and Algon stood up and moved to the center, " The newcomer has shown he is worthy to sit amongst us and fight well! " Algon called, " The demon is now one of us! " He announced which got grunts and small roars of approval. " Now then! Everyone got their fights in and we even saw a few of us earn a glorious death! " Algon continued, there was even louder roars and hollering. " We move onto the Bloodgames! Rat Wheel Throwing! " He announced in which everyone was up on their feet at this point in a even louder uproar if that was even possible.

Two beastmen moved out of the Brawling Grounds to only come back with a massive looking wooden wheel that had a Ratkin tied to it. The wretched looking thing looked scared out of its wits as the Beastmen were actually hopping up and down now. Was this there axe throwing competition? " Newcomer, why don't you start us off. " Algon stated. " Choose a opponent to face off against. Rules are to throw axes or whatever you deem necessary as long as it isn't big and toss it at the wretched rat. If you are able to chop a limb off or kill the thing. You get a hit in on your opponent. Until the rat dies. Then whoever hits the other the most, wins the sport. " Algon nodded with a hint of a smile.

---

Zuson Khantor
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As Delphinius made his way through the Brawling Grounds and to the massive gates of Zuson Khantor, he would notice the size of the Beastkin capital to be quite massive, surprisingly that none of these beastmen had burned or destroyed the place yet. Although that probably went saying that it most likely has been tried before knowing these primitives. The carriage he rode in came to a stop at the gates.

There was talking happening outside that was in the language of his escort to the Council of Zuson and beastmen talking quite loudly in their own primitive language. Although with the language barrier in the way, the beastmen were getting unhappy with the carriage master and it was obvious. Then with massive footsteps, one of the beastmen moved to Delphinius' carriage door and opened the carriage, taking the entire door off in the process. He looked at Delphinus with a strange look and even flinched as if the beastman smelled something awful. That being said, Delphinus could smell this beastman and he smelled awful. Like death, dry blood, soiled pants and a garbage can.

The beastman looked at the human in the carriage. His features resembled one of a bull, he was so tall that he had hunch down just to look inside. He was covered in dark brown fur, wore dark eyes that looked like he was wanting to kill Delphinus, and he wore weathered leather straps on his body with a loincloth covering his privates. He also carried a axe in his other hand that was fashioned with fresh blood on it. The beastman spoke to Delphinius but probably knew it was futile.

He looked at Delphinus' garb then leaned into the carriage with widened eyes, on his garb he wore the mark of the Council of Khantor. Bearing a small bird's skull that was fashioned with a single blue, yellow and red jewel on the forehead. The beastman then backed off and tried to place the broken door he held in his hand back onto the carriage but it only fell off. The beastman looked down at it then at Delphinus before he said something in his native tongue and wave a hand with a gesture. The carriage began moving again and the beastman watched Delphinus move along. He looked almost hungry like he wanted to eat Delphinus.

As they moved into the gates of Zuson Khantor, it was like a almost different place. Instead of the usual blood and slaughter in every other place in Zuson, there was many small huts lined up everywhere with smaller Beastmen standing out of each hut with a table of various things: from food to weapons to clothing to armor to skulls of all sorts to books to even buckets. This looked like a Market District and there was so many of them, it was almost otherworldly compared to what it was like outside of Zuson Khantor where it was more brutalizing and unforgiving.

But as the carriage kept moving along, it moved pass a massive building with strange architecture that looked otherworldly. It was gilded with gold and silver with a hint of red in it's design. It looked unnatural compared to everything else in this country. Passing by the open doorway, Delphinus would hear erotic noises coming from within, he would see many different beasts enter and leave at the same time. But looking further in he saw... A woman? A naked woman sitting upon a pedestal looking out the door. Delphinus wouldn't be able to identify the features of her face but she had a humanoid body that looked... Perfect. But her head was unnatural. Like it wasn't there but there was a outline of something there.

He found feel this wave of... Lust come over him as he stared at this woman, like he was being pulled into the Spire. And there he saw the gleaming eyes of that perfect woman. She raised a hand up slowly and pointed a finger at him before slowly beckoning him to come hither. Delphinus would feel the pull and not even catch himself leaning forward like he was about to jump out of the carriage. Only for the woman to move out of sight while the carriage moved and Delphinus would find himself standing up about to walk out before the effects of what he was feeling subsided and leave him. It was like a feeling that he couldn't control himself and nearly faded.

As the carriage moved on and made it to a palace looking building that was made of stone, there would be a entourage of armored Beastkin awaiting him, they wore darkened steel armor that covered their entire body, with a robed goatman standing between them that wore the same pendant that he did. As the carriage stopped, the armored Beastkin stepped forward while carrying massive weapons that were as long as the carriage itself. These Beastkin resembled either Rhinoceros or Elephants. The point being was that were massive beings, standing at a good ten feet tall and were wide. They looked nearly unkillable.

The robed goatman stepped forward to the carriage, his eyes were similar to goats from other lands, unnaturally unsettling with a strange plus design in them. " Delphinus Aurelion. Nobleman from House Aurelion. A scholar of the University of Arcane Practices. Your mother permitted you to travel the world, did she not? I wonder what she would say if she saw you here in this unforgivable land. " The Councilman spoke. He spoke clear basic and even had knowledge on Delphinus and his home. But his tone was different too from the other Beastkin. " I trust your travels here were... Far from comforting? Do not worry, we can have better commodities arranged here for you. " The goatman spoke. He sounded rather younger, and if Delphinius had any knowledge of Khantor, Councilman were supposed to determine the future of Khantor but usually only the strong made it onto the Council. Yet this Goatman here was smaller in stature, he stood at about five feet. Most beastmen were taller than six feet unless you were a Ratkin then you were at looking at three to four feet tall. " My name is Vesh'Atar. But if you wish you can shorten it to Vesh or Atar. " He wore dark blue robes with hints of a yellow tint in the color. His clothing and design seemed... More noble than the leather armor the Beastkin usually wore.

Councilman Vesh'Atar
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Delphinius Aurelion
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Delphinius listened, but could not understand the conversations being had outside his ride, but when the door snatched off the hinges by a beast so large he eclipsed the rest of them, Delphinius moved to the far side of the carriage. As the odor of the beastman rushed into the small space, the astromancer wasn't sure if he should be afraid of the beast or the smell coming off of him. The only time he'd smelled anything comparable to this was during his university years, when his fellow students would try their hand at brewing potions or when someone thought they'd try their hands at necromancy and the smell of corpses would worsen over the passing hours. But he was a noble and lesson one was to mind your manners so he kept his hands from grabbing his nose.

Instead the mage remained still and watched the beastman, analyzing his appearance, but only found himself more disgusted by the beast. These creatures lived in filth and...they loved it. When the creature leaned in for a closer look Delphinius thought that he might lose what little lunch he had on his stomach. He managed to keep it down though and as the creature leaned in, Delphinius looked down at the badge he wore. It saved him from a horrid fate it seemed. The turning of the carriage wheels brought him some ease and the sorcerer leaned back into his seat with a heavy sigh.

Inside the gates he was genuinely surprised by what the beastmen had built for themselves. Contrary to what he'd been told and had seen along the way, Zuson Khantor was a city in every regard. The marketplace alone was proof of that. There were still signs of their primitive and bestial nature within the city, but that he had to overlook. Perhaps the presence of one of the Demi-Gods of old.

The carriage came to a stop before behemoths and Delphinius understood now the strength of the beastmen. He climbed out of the carriage and gazed up at the massive warriors in awe before the voice of another drew his attention. "You are well informed, Councilman Vesh'Atar." He replied as he chose to use the man's full name. "I must say of all I've seen the duality of the Beastmen of Khantor is what will stick with me the most. As for my mother, well...she never approved of my adventuring, but I think she too would be impressed." Delphinius smirked as she approached the Councilman. "Khantor has opened my eyes to a whole new world."

Skyhunter Skyhunter Garbage Pail Kid Garbage Pail Kid
 
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Snare could hardly believe how well she took the damage she suffered and took his offering. It seemed they had much to learn from eachother. He did not know the reputation demons had made for themselves, and was beginning to see the surprise of most of his actions first hand. Would a demon have killed her? He was sure there were plenty of humans who would; One had been foolish enough to steal from his waist pouch on the trip here. A quirk of his brow being his only reaction to her eagerness for a war with The Pact. He didn't feel the same zeal for such wonton slaughter, and that was proof he was no longer the human he had been. so long ago it was an entirely different life.

He had been given a new desire, bound by blood and Sanskrit. A yearning to make the wicked suffer, and those personal moments far outweighed an innocent rural family of four. He couldn't help but salivate at the notion of the wicked here in Khantor. It would prove to be difficult to control as the ratfolk here were oppressed in a way that made slavery look comfortable. His body tensing as he heard the damn thing screaming it's head off in terror. The will of his summoner burning underneath his skin like a blanket of fire.

Purge them from this world, Kru'Gorah

The wicked must perish, all of them

Hear me and obey, for my family and all families on this world.

Kill them all.


It was all he was left with. A contract he had no choice but to fulfill; The summoner sacrificing his own life to make the contract binding eternal. It was as though he knew the monster he was bring back, and adjusted it to his will. It was this very contract that was making this particular game more difficult than he let on. It took everything in him not to try and strangle these giant buffoons. There was entertainment and fun in fighting worthy warriors and opponents, but this was pathetic. He did not let it show, and channeled this unexpected well of emotions.

He had become 'one of them' and would just have handle this challenge a different way, making it a marathon, rather than a race.

Snare picking out a rando from the crowd as his opponent; putting on confident airs as he listened to the rules. He snatched a hand axe from the crowd with his tail, rolling it up his arm and into his hand before launching it at the poor rat. Pride was a human concept that no longer chained him down; missing every throw with enough effort where foul play couldn't be challenged. Snare taking each hit and laughing, knowing the creature was doomed no matter what he did. He just couldn't have a direct hand in it's suffering so he refused to hit it.

Snare grinning through a bloody nose and busted cheek "I need to work on my aim huh? Give me a break will ya?" He said, hardly caring for any of the shit he got as his respect for these heathens diminished.
 

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Brawling Grounds Outside of Zuson Khantor
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As the bloodgames kept going and Snare lost his game, they only grew more brutal. Mainly towards the Rat race in this culture. They were nothing but fodder to these ruthless beasts, and all games usually revolved around the Rat race in general. But as they were finishing up the games. There was, in the distance, a large group walking towards the current group of warriors. Algon was being talked to about the group approaching in which he nodded.

Algon pounded on his chest and bellowed, " Round up your weapons and get ready. We have a rebelling tribe of deserters coming. " The large Taurus called to everyone. Immediately everyone that was having a good time stopped, either drinking the rest of their drink or dropping it entirely, they got to work. Moving the warriors grabbed their weapons that were laying about the place and formed up behind Algon. " Do not attack, we will see what they have to say. Their weapons aren't up and they aren't charging. They want to talk. " Algon called.

As Algon moved, the rest of the beastmen moved with him, following after him as he made his way forward towards this oncoming force. They would meet in the fields just outside of Khantor where the two forces stopped just meters away from each other. The other tribe consisted of a few Bears with goatmen on their shoulders. These Bears were massive, about nine feet tall with scars all over their bodies. There were a mix of goatmen, Tauruses, a couple of minotaurs, wolven which were wolfmen and their leader who was a minotaur himself. " Tribe Beshmuv. " Algon scoffed as he walked out a few feet. " What do you want, Neshav, take your tribe and go back to your home. " Algon growled. The minotaur wore cruddy armor he had gathered during a battle. He had weapons on his belt with a massive axe on his back.

" I cannot do that, Algon. We are here for our independence. Stormhorn was a fool to think this hierarchy would work. " Neshav stated with confidence and disdain. This got a few of the beastmen riled up with rage and anger to hear this disrespect on the First Khan. " You watch your mouth, Neshav. Your small force can't win against a entire group of warriors. " Algon held his own axe in his hand. This Neshav chuckled, " Maybe not. But that is why I want to talk, I came to challenge you. I challenge you to Blus'Kelv. " The warriors of Zuson Khantor began to whisper.

" Blus'Kelv? You don't seem the type to demand a challenge. You usually prefer your one on ones. " Algon said with a hint of surprise. Neshav narrowed his eyes, " I pick my six warriors including myself. You pick your six then we fight. It is what needs to be won in order to have our independence as Stormhorn has stated in his decree long ago. " Neshav growled. Algon chucked as he turned around looking to his warriors. Looking through his forces he spotted Snare, " Newcomer. Come up. You're gonna fight. " He then picked five more warriors and they all came up. " These are a series of one on ones, whichever team has more kills wins. But if the score is tied, us leaders go on in and fight it out until one of us dies. If we win, we slaughter them all and eliminate the entire tribe. If they win, they gain their independence and they go along their way. "

Algon spoke to Snare. " You're up first. Kill that teatsucker's first warrior, demon. " The weather Taurus slapped Snare on the back then so did all the other warriors before pushing him into the circle of warriors. Snare would see his first opponent walk out, a tall minotaur holding two axes, he was snarling as he stared at Snare. " A demon? I was hoping for my own kin to fight. " The minotaur spat. Then there was a horn that went off and the fight begun.

---

Zuson Khantor, Skull Summit
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" Well, welcome to the Skull Summit. This is the first and only palace in Khantor. Created by the Beastkin of old and creation was overseen by the mighty Stormhorn himself. " Vesh'Atar spoke. In front of the palace was a statue of The Stormhorn, a mighty looking minotaur with armor all over his body and face, not getting a good glimpse of his features but he raised a axe into the air with one hand and in his other he held a small sword. His eyes that could be seen through his helmet looked like they were made up of amethyst, they glowed in the sunlight and emitted a weird lightning effect where stared at. The statue itself was made from a darkened brass, the main color was charcoal black with certain features and details easily distinguished, but there were glimpses of that brass yellow gold color in the details. Otherwise it was a beautiful statue of a very powerful warrior. The First Khan and the Conqueror of Khantor. Unifier of all tribes, Creator of the Hierarchy. He is a symbol to these people and almost a god in the eyes of the Beastmen.

" As mighty as he was. His disappearance is still a mystery. " Vesh'Atar spoke like it sounded hopeless but there was something else in his tone of voice as he turned to stare at the statue. Then looking back to Delphinius he had a small smile on his face, " Khantor is a very brutal place, Delphinus. Everywhere you go, you'll be met with violence. As dumb as our people look. We have honorable traits. We understand our hierarchy and what symbols mean. " Vesh'Atar continued. " While your people may see us as nothing more than brutal murderers. The people of Khantor are much more than that. In time, you'll see what I am talking about if you choose to stay. " The goatman looked into Delphinus' eyes, they were almost hypnotizing but held a mysteriousness to them.

" Now then, I would like to conversate more but for now let us enjoy some delicacy and discuss business. Be sure you keep that badge on you at times. " He pointed at the skull decorated with jewels on his jerkin. " It will save you from becoming a Beastman's next meal. " Vesh'Atar held a dark tone in his voice. " You're not the first guest I've invited to these lands. I've given the same warning to them yet they did not heed me. Unfortunately, they were not discovered nor were their fates known. I suspect they were killed each in various ways. I pray that does not happen to you too. " Vesh'Atar held Delphinus' gaze for a few long moments before he turned his serious tone into a smile. " Now come. Let me show you what we Khantorians are capable of. "

As Vesh'Atar lead Delphinus into the large bulwark of a palace, that looked more like a battlement or a fortress, the large guards followed after Vesh'Atar and Delphinus, making sure to stay behind and to the side of the two. Delphinus would see a whole new side to the Khantorians, there were statues erected of all different types of races in the Beastkin culture, there were so many it was hard to remember them all. Behind each statue was a painting of that same species in a very heroic pose of pointing their weapon or raising a fist. The ground was covered in a long red velvet carpet, it looked old but still had be maintained for some time. These beasts looked like maniacal brutes but those inside the council were more defined and intelligent. Guess that's why they were on the Council and the warriors stayed in the warrior class.

As the group kept walking through the palace, they would come into a giant dining area where Vesh'Atar clapped his hands twice and quickly out of seemingly no where, nicely dressed beastmen came to set up the table up. This dining area had windows that oversaw the entire city of Khantor and all the seemingly small beastmen below went about their business. Out in the distance a massive spire was erect in the middle of Zuson Khantor. That same spire that had almost casted a spell on Delphinus. Around the windows were lush curtains made of silk. The walls of the Skull Summit were made of grey brick that were laid nicely on top of one another. The table itself was made of a dark blue wood, something exotic to Delphinius as it felt like the wood grain was moving, looking closer he would see that it was! It looked similar to stars in the night sky, twinkling.

The Khantorians had some strange trinkets and even were bougier than expected. " Come. Take a seat, Delphinus. " Vesh'Atar walked to the closest seat that was the end of the table and took his seat. There was only one other chair and that was next to Delphinius. The table was a very long one, nearly forty feet in length, but no other chairs were set up except the one that was laid across from the windows that Delphinus would be able to see out of. As they took their seats, the guards took positions on both sides of the rooms where the doors were at, then two more stood next to the windows. " Now. While the food is being served, did you have any questions before we conduct our business, Delphinus of House Aurelion. " Vesh'Atar asked as more beastmen came out and laid out silverware with plates in front of the two.
 
Delphinius Aurelion
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Delphinius found it impossible to deny; the tales of Khantor, while somewhat true, were lacking in what made them, in his opinion, similar to the rest of the world. As he looked upon Stormhorn's visage his thin fingers found their way to the golden jewelry around his neck and the amethyst pendant that hung from it. There was, although limited, an artistry within the beastmen that could perhaps flourish given the right space. But that was not what he was here for. Or so he thought.

Vesh'Atar started to speak about the duality of beastmen, which he had already conceded to witnessing, but the goat also invited him to linger a while in Khantor and to learn more of the beastmen. "A tempting idea I assure you." He was always prone to wander and loved to seek out new things, but Khantor was a world very different from his own. "I will have to take some time to consider it, although I must admit I am already finding more reason to stay than to go." He returned Vesh'Atar's smile in a more honest fashion.

That smile faded however as he was reminded of the very thin protection he was afforded and his hand went up to touch the badge. As they continued through the corridors, the astromancer marveled at the beauty of Khantor's culture made into art. But the true masterpiece was the table. A wood not found in the north that somewhat reflected his hair and magic. It brought a smile to his face and as he sat down, he felt a sense of familiarity wash over him.

More beastmen emerged from the woodwork and started to set the table for them. The familiarity of being waited on and served. A bittersweet memory as he was forced to remember the happy and sad memories of his childhood. His eyes swept up from the plates and silverware to Vesh'Atar. "I am curious as to the origins and happenings of that tower in the distance. Is it the home of a demi-god? I felt a strange compulsion when my carriage passed by it on the way here. I always thought the Stormhorn was the only demi-god in Khantor. Is that not the case?"

Skyhunter Skyhunter
 
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Their barbaric games were a form of endurance training for him as he knew there would be many times he had to suffer such sights without the ability to do anything, garnering a thicker skin all the while. A well of hatred welling up that he needed to expel, and in a stroke of luck. It seemed a new custom cropped up for Snare to partake in. Deserters must imply they were rogues among the general populace here. The eye boring out of his skull beginning to flicker across each individual. A tool to detect the wickedness of his foes, determining if they were something he could fight or not.

Snare stood idly, watching each one with curiosity as the two leaders talked. He listened to the content of their conversation, wondering what this stormhorn was all about; something to do with that massive storm perhaps. It seemed a challenge was necessary in order to free themselves from this religion of theirs. The demon perking his head as Algon asked him to join in on this fight. Snare understanding the rules as they were said; Excitement crackling across his skin as he stepped forward.

"I accept, this will heartily slake my thirst." Snare said as he eyed up his challenger; a duel wielding taurus who snorted a remark of disappointment.

"That sentiment will grow more desperate, Let us see who is more beastly "

Snare crouched low before starting the altercation off proper; launching forward with great speed. A flash of steel seen as a sword hilt grew from his hip. His tail grasping it tightly and yanking it out without issue, revealing a black iron blade. Fengstradd. His tail was warbly and difficult to pin as the sword followed it's movements to a tee. A new fighting style he hasn't even tried; one that would allow him to use his claws alongside this blade he had been burdened with.

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  • Blood Revelry: [Agility, Fengstradd]- A sword of dark steel manifests with crimson majesty, as though his hip were a sheathe, his tail wielding it as he lunges at his target and uses his claws and the 'scorpion style' of fighting he has adapted to rend his foes.
 
Brawling Grounds Outside of Zuson Khantor
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The Minotaur held a smile at Snare charged forward like a madman, the beast held both his axes up before he took a stance where he was sturdy. As Snare pulled the sword from seemingly out of nowhere, the minotaur didn't even notice as he readied his own attack until his eyes moved down and he saw the sword moving. In a quick desperation move, the minotaur left his chest open as he swung a axe with crazy speed to catch the sword. The minotaur's other axe was brought backwards where he shoved forward and slammed the tip into Snare's chest, knocking him backwards to the center of the circle.

The minotaur snorted as he took a few steps forward, " Nearly had me there, demon. Maybe this will be a more interesting fight than what my kin can give me. " He twirled his axes in his hands and growled, " Come fight me, demon! " He roared as he then charged forward, his eyes wide and face contorted in rage. Both axes raised as he was ready to bring the weapons down on Snare.

---

Zuson Khantor, Skull Summit
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Vesh'Ator glowered a moment as Delphinus pointed out the massive spire in the distance, " Ah yes... " He said with a hint of disdain in his voice. " Before I tell you of that place, you do best to stay away from the Spire, Mr. Aurelion. I have lost a couple of guests to that place. " The beastman spoke, his body language didn't show any sign of disdain or anger but only his tone. " Mr. Aurelion. We Khantorians are unsure of who our Demi-God is. Stormhorn had conquered Khantor many centuries ago. His feats are that of legend and great fuel to the Khantorians, he created our hierarchy, and it is how we have been thriving this entire time. " Vesh'Ator's gaze looked over to the foreigner his gaze was serious. " That place, Delphinus. " His voice was now grim. " That is the Spire of Oodesh. Here in Khantor, we do not simply mate just for the pleasure of it like the rest of the world. We mate only when the time calls for it and to increase our numbers and bloodline. Oodesh is what we call mating, it is a sacred ritual to all of us. Some of us do not listen and that is usually punishable by death unless we, the Council of Khantor, allow it to happen. It is to prevent famine and unchecked lustful ambitions from plaguing our land. "

Vesh'Ator took a moment to be silent, as if he was contemplating on telling Delphinus or not, then he spoke again. " The Spire of Oodesh is a bastardization of what we stand for in our culture. It even takes the name of Oodesh and turned it into what you would call in the Pact, a 'whore house' or 'brothel.' It is nothing more than a way to divide our culture. " Vesh'Ator stared at Delphius with eyes of disdain, not disdain at the guest but disdain towards the subject he spoke of, but regardless, his voice remained calm. " The Spire of Oodesh showed up in the middle of one night. " Vesh'Ator closed his eyes as if he was trying to visualize that night, his voice was almost full of shame. He then spoke once again with his eyes closed. " It came many years ago. In the middle of the night. No one had seen it appear, but it was just... There. Like it had been there for many years. When this tower appeared, me and other council members were informed. We had assembled a group of warriors to get ready to go in and raze the tower down. "

" What ended up happening was that our group of warriors went in and never came out. But we heard a booming voice from within and when we got near there was the sight of a naked woman. Her body was human but her head... Well. It is apparently different to everyone who lays eyes on her face. But it always an animal's head. Unadesh, this entity is named. Or what she calls herself. She is the keeper and protector of the place. What she did was turn everyone's lust into their fuel. She can increase your lust into overwhelming fuel to want to mate. But she can also turn people into her Oodesh slaves. I watched her turn strong warriors into females and they became vessels for the males to do as they please to. I've seen her reverse warriors skin and flesh out. I've witnessed her reverse a warrior's age backwards until he became less than a baby and only a seed. " Vesh'Ator opened his eyes and looked at Delphius. " Unadesh is a destroyer of our culture. She is everything we have evolved from. Yet she has the power to stay here. We have committed many assaults on her. Yet she has destroyed or absorbed our warriors. Unadesh has this hold on people and brings them into her Spire if you stare long enough. " Vesh'Ator explained.

" We have witnessed her power and presence. She can only be a demigod and nothing else. " Vesh'Ator sighed, " There was a point where we tried to completely crumble her spire and threw many Ratkin at her. All of them were instantly turned into beastmen seed on the ground. " The goatman looked outside at the Spire. " That is what the Spire is. A mockery to our culture and Stormhorn himself. " He hadn't even noticed but their food had been laid out in front of both Vesh'Ator and Delphinus. The smell hitting the both of them finally. Vesh'Ator looked down at his plate. " Ah. My apologies, Mr. Aurelion- and do not try to apologize either. It is information you should know and beware of. The Spire is no laughing matter. And there is nothing we can do currently. There is even talk that the Spire is the doing of the Zan'Tor Shamans. " He then scoffed and turned to his plate while shaking his head. " For now, let us enjoy what we have. We will conduct business when we finish. " Vesh'Ator showed a friendly smile on his face towards Delphinus, but there was a feeling that it may have bothered the goatman to have brought it up. Despite that, Vesh'Ator sounded like he enjoyed talking about the problems of Khantorian Culture. He also seemed to have blown some steam off during his tirade. Running this country was not a easy thing to do.

The plates of food before the two had a large slice of meat and boiled vegetables. The cut of meat was a light red with the outside a brazen brown. It smelled amazing. The vegetables were mainly three thick stalks of a blue green leaf that had some sort of seasoning on it. Tasting the food was absolutely amazing if he ate it. This was like nothing from back home or in Khantor. It had a sticky residue to it, but the juices were so sharp and tasteful that it was almost a sin to not eat it all!
 
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There was no greater rush than that of combat; his entire body began to emit steam as his internal temperature rose hotter than the air around him. The coals of his eyes emitting smoke trails as he moved back after his sword was met with unexpected resistance. He was faster than expected, and it was no wonder. They had years of war under their belt and he was only just learning, but he was a quick learner. A duel overhead swing was dangerous, but also took time to wind up.

His body jutted down, lurching in an unnatural way. His head nearly touching the floor as he lunged his tailed forward with Fengstradd aimed at the exposed guard of his stomach. The demon going straight for the kill this time. The silent agony he suffered watching that miserable game being vented tenfold.

"Show me your blood!"

  • Blood Revelry: [Agility, Fengstradd]- A sword of dark steel manifests with crimson majesty, as though his hip were a sheathe, his tail wielding it as he lunges at his target and uses his claws and the 'scorpion style' of fighting he has adapted to rend his foes.
 
Delphinius Aurelion
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It was clear that the tower was a sensative subject, for Vesh'Atar at the very least, but Delphinius could understand and appreciate that. But as he listened he found confusion creeping into his thought, but reserved any questions that he might have. This was all new information to him and he, as always, was happy to learn more about the world. But the story took an unexpected turn and Delphinius found himself on the edge of his seat as the tale began in earnest. This tower was a great mystery, but his host and likely many others saw it as a burden on the beastmen. The story was more of a warning and as it went on, Delphinius was certain that a demi-god or perhaps a devil had made its home in their fair city. it was a shame to think that they struggled with such a being.

As the scent of their meals wafted to their noses, Delphinus let out a soft sigh and returned from the darkness of the tale that the Councilman was telling. "I'm grateful for your willingness to make me a more informed guest so that I might not become one of the Spire's victims. You have done me a big favor Councilman Vesh'Atar." Delphinus raised his goblet to toast to the Councilman's kindness and then didn't hesitate to dig in.

While he ate, Delphinius pondered how he should broch the subject of his missing master and whether or not the beastman would be pleased or offended that he suspected the man might be here. He took his time to enjoy the foreign cuisine of khantor and came to the conclusion that although vesh'Atar was a politician and leader, he was still a beastman and would appreciate straightforwardness.

A napkin slid across Delphinius' mouth, wiping away the residue of his meal as he set his utensils down. "Councilman Vesh'Atar, I m grateful for the meal, but I think we should move on to our true purpose here." Delphinius suggested. "I've come very far in search of my master, Magister Soriano. He is a leader in the Magisterium, but recently went missing with no clues as to his whereabouts. I have connections in The Pact searching for him, but a lack of friends here in Khantor meant I had to come myself. I know I am just a foreign citizen, but I would appreciate your assistance in finding him. If you have heard anything of a magister arriving in Khantor you could help set me on the right path."

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Skyhunter Skyhunter
 
Brawling Grounds of Zuson Khantor
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Surrounded by growling, cheering and grunts, the two warriors faced off. The mighty minotaur and the demonic newcomer would come to clash. Even with Snare's contorting body sowing confusion, the minotaur still saw Snare's play, whether it be intuition of a trick attack or the years of experience this mighty warrior had acquired. The minotaur dropped one axe and swung his arm around to catch the handle of the weapon as Snare's was made manifest. The sound of a loud CLANG was heard as the minotaur's crude weapon clashed into Snare's secret sword. Although this would not fully make the attack avoidable, the minotaur, being flatfooted, was unable to move and instead took a deep gash into his side as the attack was a glancing strike rather than a direct hit.

Blood slipped onto the ground as Snare's weapon made contact, this caused the warriors to cheer in praise on the Warrior Class side. The tribe side were each growling a bit or muttering hateful words under their breaths. The minotaur didn't react to the deep gash and instead continued forward, dropping axe to instead go for a quicker attack. Balling his fist up and swinging downward at Snare, the massive fist would make contact with Snare's stomach, sending him into the ground and pushing the literal air out of his lungs. The minotaur smirked as he then grabbed Snare by his entire torso with just one hand and lifted him up once he was dazed and threw him into the ground with full force. This caused Snare to once again hit the ground then bounce backwards on the ground. The minotaur laughed at this insulting attack which caused the tribal side to each laugh at this attack.

The warriors siding with Snare would begin yelling and roaring, wanting Snare to get back up. For a moment he would feel his body and mind be numb, almost like he was knocked out, dazed once again by such a strong attack. But his mind would come back to reality to a sore body, but he could still move, his right shoulder was in pain and when he tried to move would feel it was dislocated or broken, hard to say with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The opposing warrior picked his axe up nonchalantly and slowly made his way forward towards Snare with an evil smile on his face. Raising his weapons up again.

---

Zuson Khantor, Skull Summit
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Vesh'Atar had his ears perked when Delphinus began to talk, he stopped eating and placed his silverware down to listen. His face was indifferent as Delphinus brought up his own case, explaining his woes and why he was here. Vesh'Atar placed his hands on top of each other as this outsider spoke. " Hmm. I see. " Vesh'Atar said with complete indifference. " Your master has disappeared, and you think that we would know something about him, hmm? " The goatman asked with a raised brow. His face then turned into a smile, " Well luckily for you, Delphinus. I have some sort of information on this master of yours. Although I don't have it on hand, I can acquire it soon. But in the meantime, we will make a deal. " The councilbeast smirked.

Vesh'Atar raised a hand and across the dining room, the doors opened up and in walked a tall and massive figure. Bigger than the rhino guards here that surrounded Delphinus. They were a bipedal elephant drabbed in armor that looked extremely light on him but was most likely heavy for regular beastmen while holding a big tablet in one and a staff in the other, " Vesh'Atar. This is our esteemed guest, yes? " Their voice was a bellowing one, almost making the room ring. This beast had to be about fifteen feet tall, and this was probably a very rare species of beastmen not ever seen. Vesh'Atar nodded, " Yes. You will be working with him, Bazakir. " Vesh'Atar stated before looking at Delphinus. " This is Bazakir. He is a scholar of sorts. He's been working on a project for me that involves the tablet he holds. " Vesh'Atar indictaed to Delphinus while looking at the massive beastman.

Bazakir
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The elephant placed a large tablet on the dining room table near Delphinus for him to see. It was a dark blue color tablet that looked like stone. " This is the Deluge Tablet. " The Goatman explained, " It was said that this was left over after Stormhorn's disappearance. A mystery dating back hundreds of years. We have been trying to solve it ever since it came into our possession. It is indestructible even. Recently, Bazakir has made a breakthrough on the tablet. This tablet has to do with the Cosmos and Stars. Something you are very much familiar with. If you help us potentially figure out the mystery of this tablet. I will tell you the information about your master. " The goatman explained with a serious look. " Deal? If you don't accept, we will allow you to leave and head back to your home, we will escort you out of Khantor. The choice is yours. " Vesh'Atar explained. Looking at the tablet, it had strange carvings in it with carved dots all over the front of it.
 
Delphinius Aurelion
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The conversation seemed promising from the start, but when Vesh'Atar announced that he had a lead on the Magister's whereabouts he felt his face break into an ear to ear smile. His days of journeying across this foreign land and enduring sights and smells unfathomable would not be in vain. He could barely contain his excitement, but it subsided when Vesh'Atar introduced a behemoth of a beastman whose voice filled the room like thunder. The young astromancer studied the creature's figure while the other two spoke and introductions were made.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Bazakir. I am Delphinius Aurelion." He rose from his seat and bowed his head just slightly as he made the introduction and greeting. Then the tablet was laid on the table and his lavender gaze fell upon it. Never had he seen something like this before and that intrigued him even more. He sat back down to get a closer look at the piece of history that they had put before him and listened to Vesh'Atar as the goat brought him up to speed.

"Just when I thought I'd never have to read another old textbook again." He teased with a smirk. Vesh'Atar had been his first hope at finding the Magister since the man went missing, even his contacts in The Pact had not reported any findings. He looked to the Councilman and then to Bazakir. He could not let this opportunity slip through his fingers, he couldn't let his Master slip away. "It seems a fair trade; knowledge for knowledge." Delphinius declared with a nod of his head. "I will do what i can to help you gleam some information from the Deluge Tablet, but not before you share with me what you know of my Master so that I may dispatch someone one my behalf to follow the trail before it grows cold. And in th meantime I will remain here in Zuson Khantor." If he was honest, he wanted to know about the tablet too and what secrets it may reveal, but he could not let Magister Soriano disappear while he worked. He looked to Vesh'Atar, awaiting the councilman's decision.

Skyhunter Skyhunter
 
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It was the hardest Snare had been hit thus far; His own sword attack connected (somewhat), but he received a punch to the gut in reciprocation. The coal of his eyes dimming as breath escaped his lungs without his say so. His lithe form an easy thing to pick up for a beastkin. Snare rolled nearly a dozen feet before his horns clattered to the floor with his face grinded against mud and shit.

His shoulder was in the most pain, fortunately, it seemed to just be dislocated. His entire body aching from pain as he mantled his hands against the ground for stability. Memories of a life so long ago found their way to float to the surface; perhaps a mix of pain and deja vu. He could remember biting snow on his face; axes slammed against shields for an unknown battle about to take place.
The drumbeats of the past drove through his heart and pushed him back to his feet; hearing the guttural shouts of the new 'allies' he made roaring him on to finish the fight. It was a time where he fought for something, so savagely, but with peerless honor.

What was he fighting for now?

He didn't need to see to hear the sounds of his approaching opponent, and by association, death. He didn't know if demons came back, and had no plans to find out. The hundreds of shouts from long since dead kin mixing with the brutish familiarity of the beastkin at his back.

His tail drove into the ground and the moment the beastkin went to swing at him; his body drug across the ground with unnatural movement. His tail swung him to the left, before snapping like a whip and sending him back to the right in a bend. His horns aiming for his unprotected side. The berserkir Halgruf died as, lived anew, in a new time, as demon walking the surface: Snare. His body didn't have to move as his tail lurched to the right, angling his head and attempted to rip through the guts and spray the battlefield with gore.

  • Cruel Canvas: [Agility, Presence]- Snare spears his tail into the ground and hovers in the air, allowing him greater mobility and defense.

  • Pitchfork Parade: [Agility]- When in melee range, Snare bows his head and lunges forward, aiming his four sets of horns toward his target with lethal intent. His neck muscles bending with ease and allows his horns greater ease of movement.
 
Brawling Grounds Outside of Zuson Khantor
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The minotaur had thought Snare to be out of the fight after delivering such a brutal attack, he was even raising his weapons to get his side all riled up. Acting as if the fight was already over. Snare's side kept on yelling at him to get up and continue fighting, they were stomping and roaring. There was nothing they could do, they were all unable to help Snare, this was a forbidden fight they were not allowed to interrupt, they would be killed for it. But as the minotaur grew close enough, Snare would quickly move starting with his tail. The minotaur's eyes widen as he tried to move but the horns made it's impact, causing him to drop his first weapon only to have Snare move again and tear through his body and stomach, ripping flesh and gore out of his torso. He let out a loud roar of pain and released his weapons before falling to his knees.

There was a moment of silence to the shock of what had just happened before Snare's side erupted in roars, howls, yells and stomps. The other side grew quiet and shocked. " Kill him! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! " The beastmen on Snare's side chanted together as Snare had won this battle. The minotaur tried to pull his guts back into his stomach in a meaningless attempt of survival. Snare had the upper hand in this finally.

---

Zuson Khantor, Skull Summit
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Delphinus, basically pushing for knowledge, would see the kindness in Vesh'Atar's eyes leave for just a moment. He was walking a very thin line of respect that Beastmen always seemed to have demanded. But it would come back just as soon as it had left. " My dear Delphinus. I assure you the trail is far from cold. " Vesh'Atar smirked with barely narrowed eyes. " Your master is alive, be well assured. " The goatman stood up, " Although, with the miniscule power you wield. " He placed his hands behind his back and stared at the foreigner, " You wouldn't be able to reach him. But I can see what I can do. " Vesh'Atar stated as he looked at both Delphinus and Bazakir. " Continue finding progress on the Deluge Tablet in the meantime. " Vesh'Atar snapped his fingers where the servants came to the table and removed his plate despite being half eaten. " I now must meet up with the other council members, I will be back later. " Vesh'Atar then walked off with most of his massive guards following after him, he held his head up high despite being smaller than the usual beastkin.

Bazakir took a deep breath as Vesh'Atar left, " You either have more guts than most warriors or you're a fool. " The elephant stated with the shake of his head. " You should never try to play politics with the Beastmen of this land, Delphinius. If he was another Council member, he would have ripped your skin off then tear your flesh off your bones while you're still alive. I have seen it happen before. Vesh'Atar has a lot of patience, although he does not tolerate disrespect. This is not The Pact, the politics here are a lot more different. " The elephant explained, " I'd rather not see another man die in those circumstances again. " He then pointed at the Tablet that laid in front of Delphinius who if he tried to pick it up would feel how heavy it was, it felt like picking up an entire boulder. " I am told you are great with studying the stars, astrology I believe it is called. I might look like a strong warrior, but I am better at retaining knowledge. "

---

Khantorian Wildlands
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As Marakasha made her journey west towards what was known as Zuson Khantor, this land she would originally have lived in was now much different than it used to be. How long has it been? It was hard to say. Although since she had awakened and stepped out of that tomb she was stuck in within the desert, it was nothing but hell. The deserts had pockets of fog all around it and silhouettes of beastmen that seemed to have watched her every move. Although as the vampire travelled on, she would have encountered a village of beastkin that seemed to have made their home within the deserts fog for either protection or... To hide. It was hard to understand the beastmen today. They spoke such primitive language that it wasn't worth the time to learn it but... A peculiar character would have made their strange presence known and they spoke Old Tongue. Telling them to journey west before they disappeared.

Marakasha would continue her way west, learning that this new world she was in was a very bloody and brutal place, she would have borne witness to many atrocities and murders. These beasts actively enjoyed the brutality they wrought and received; it was almost like something out of a nightmare. Even as she made her way closer to Zuson Khantor as she would be informed along the way from travelling merchants that were named Appas, the blood still never ceased to be shed. Luckily for her, the Appas were actually not always bloodthirsty beasts, they managed to guide her in the right direction before they continued along their way. While she was reaching the beginning of the Wildlands as it was called, near Zuson Khantor, she would see that the small river that ran through the pass was running red with blood. And on a ledge not far above her stood a hooded beastman staring down at her.

How long was this figure there? It didn't seem like it had been there this entire yet here it was. " The vampire that had been slumbering this entire time has now finally awakened. " It spoke in a very ominous tone in her ancient language, it hard to determine if this individual was a male or female just the cadence of their voice. Even their clothing, being mainly a cloak, was hard to see the body type they had. " Here you are in the land of life once more. Have you recollection of your history and memories? " The creature asked with hands behind their back.

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EMIYAman EMIYAman
 
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Delphinius Aurelion

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There it was, it was brief like a lightning bolt streaking across the sky, but he saw it; that look upon Vesh'Atar's face betrayed his demeanor and hinted at his true feelings. It was a face Delphinius had seen quite a bit growing up in House Aurelion. The expression of a person of import who for one reason or another chose to concede to his mother. Now he'd finally earned that look from someone. But he, like his host, tried to hide the pride he felt within himself.

But the Councilman's response was like nails on a chalkboard to Delphinius' pride. He didn't see himself as a great spellcaster or anything of the like, but he never considered himself to be lacking. However the meeting was still going in his favor so he'd ignore Vesh'Atar's jab and savor his success.

As his host departed from the room, Delphinius rose to his feet, but Bazakir's booming voice caught him off guard. He placed his hand on the table, securing his balance as he turned his gaze to the large creature. "i don't play The Pact or Khantor's game of politics my friend. I'm from the Magisterium of Ao and there we don't squabble and bicker back and forth while maneuvering pawns in the shadows. We make our intentions and our desires known and those who don't agree either act or stand aside." The nobility of the Magisterium cavorted with demons and sold their souls, and the souls of others, to dark entities unseen. Posturing and schemes did not scare them nor excite them and while Delphinus was not like most nobles there, he was in that regard.

His eyes fell upon the tablet as it was brought up and he couldn't keep himself from smiling. Right away he went to pick it up, but felt the weight of it pull back against his arms and the rest of his body. "Hah." He gasped for air as he stumbled back. "It is a good thing I only need to read the tablet and nothing else." The young sorcerer joked before he looked to Bazakir.

"Astrology and translating the stars are best done at night...and from a high elevation. We need to be as close to the heavens as we can get in Khantor." Delphinius explained. "Is there somewhere I can go while we wait for the sun to set? Any more Khantorian culture I can take in?"

Skyhunter Skyhunter Garbage Pail Kid Garbage Pail Kid
 
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Snare roared as endorphins rushed through his body; his wounds aching, but satisfying as they proved he earned such a victory. Blood crawling down his face as it drip in pools off his horns. His mouth agape as he let it trickle into his maw; the taste of warrior blood! The chanting for death drilled into his marrow, and he knew this place was rife with warriors he could fight freely, and kill without worry.

The charcoal of his eyes igniting with flame as he rose Fengstradd; a blade he knew nothing of, yet felt right in his hand. A gift from the man that summoned him. His tail curling around the handle before snapping forward, with a glint of the blade as it cleaved the head of the fallen warrior. Snare snatching the head mid-air and holding it aloft, roaring louder blood rained on him.

He eventually made his way back toward his side of the ring, tossing the head at them with a saccharine grin, missing a few of his teeth.

"That was one hell of a fight, If all of them are going to be like that then I am going to have a hell of a time here" He said, sucking in a breath as he popped his shoulder back into place, swearing as he flexed his fingers a few times. Snare fell where he stood, stretching his back as he rested like a lazy cat. He wondered what the rest of this place was like, he wanted to stick around these buncha savages, but he also wanted to check the city itself.
 
Marakasha Ilunaag
Mentions: Skyhunter Skyhunter


Deep beneath the deserts of Khantor there was no light and nary a sound. The influence of the world above could not reach this ancient domain. Remnants of a bygone era which could not be, forgotten and entombed below the outermost layer of the planet. That is a texture. And within this texture laid a grand shrine, which had yet to be swept away by time. The only remaining proof of that old world. Within that shrine, which had not known the breath of life in a millennia, was an ivory throne. And upon that throne wrapped in a array of chains was the "Princess". As if she was on display the woman's arms were splayed and hung high, like a butterfly pinned to a board. Her head was hung causing her long golden hair to fall in waves. The slumbering form of the Princess laid in a circular hall with no decoration or color. A white room which seemed to exist for her sake alone. A place deep in slumber as if to join the Princess. And for the first time in a long long time, something changed. The utter silence was broken by the rattle of a chain echoing out deep into the rest of the underground structure. Then the silence returned as if to snuff out the sound, but it would not last. The rattling continued steadily growing louder. Echoing out once more, from the ivory throne. The Princess sleeping form stirred like she was entangled in a dream. She trembled and began to thrash but the chains constrained her to the throne. Finally as they were pulled taut straining under her strength she fell still. For a moment it appeared she would return to her rest. Until her head rose, the hair which had once covered her features falling back behind her revealing her face, pale and pristine as a doll, to the shrine which had held her contained for so long. Her eyelids rose allowing her ruby like eyes to behold the world once more. The room quickly came into focus, dark as it was the Princess could see clearly.

Marakasha Ilunaag was awake once again though this time there was no one to greet her. The chains which bound her began to slink off her body. Responding to her awakening they slithered behind the throne releasing her. Rising from her throne clad in her regal white dress she stepped towards the center of the room her hands clasped together at her waist in front of her invoking to image of a princess. Despite her long slumber she felt no fatigue and walked as if she merely been taken a nap. The air was stagnant being more dust and dirt than oxygen. Barely any life could sustain itself down here for long, and more than likely the rest of the structure was much the same. Dilapidated and caved in. Her gilded cage, her "Millenium Castle" which had held her dutifully was but a shadow of its former self. Marakasha's eyes narrowed, a feeling of discontent coming upon her like a thorn in her side. Raising a slender hand she stared at it curiously examining it, she "hm'd" in contemplation. With graceful steps her heels clacked upon the floor towards the closest wall. Then she simply raised her arm, reared it back and punched the wall. Cracks webbed out from the center of the impact the portion of the wall she punched caving in but only slightly. With a light frown she pulled her fist out from where it had sunk partially into the wall. There was no doubt in her mind, she had grown much weaker. As she was now she could hardly kill a "Demon" in combat, the fallen Vampires strength was far greater in their blood drunk madness. Her movements ceased as she realized her contradiction. The Vampires were dead and by her hand no less. There would never be a Demon again, the only one left was her. The True Vampire who was made to execute Demons had nothing to kill. The castle groaned like the bowels of a beast as if its princesses' awakening had roused it from its rest as well. There was a clattering sound as pebbles fell from the ceiling before a slab followed crashing just in front of Marakasha. Dirt and rubble exploded out marring the already ruined room. With a placid expression the Vampire lifted her head to the new hole in the ceiling. All that could be seen through it was an empty black that stretched high, but in the very center was the tiniest pin pricks of light. Staring up at that light the Vampire realized that for the first time in her unlife, she did not know what to do next.

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Measured steps parted the ever shifting sands, only for the path of her foot falls to once again fade into the sand. Her movements were admittedly slow but unrelenting like a glacier. It had taken her some time to claw her way out from the buried remnants of her Millennium Castle. When she finally emerged to say she had been shocked would in fact be an overstatement. but she was rather... disquieted. The land she knew was utterly warped, in the past her castle had been surrounded by a flower garden of Lunar Drops for over a mile; Pure white flowers that shined in the moonlight. Now there was only sand and rock. In truth Marakasha had not paid the garden any mind in the past but now that it was gone she couldn't help but notice its absence. It was rather irritating, to lose something which had been hers and hers alone. The feeling was a new one, and compounded with her loss in power Marakasha found she did not like this feeling at all.

The flower garden wasn't the only thing that had disappeared while she slept. This landscape had once been verdant and peaceful; fashioned by the Vampires into their ideal image. It was nothing like that now, the pockets of swelling fog and strange apparitions within them being of particular note. Marakasha could see what looked like Beast thralls within them and was rather curious as to what they were. She reasoned after she had killed the last of the Vampires the thralls must have been left to their own devices, spreading across Khantor much like insects. It wasn't long before Marakasha grew bored, her travels remained unmolested and despite the phantoms within the fog she had yet to be attacked at all. If they were going to watch her the least they could do is try and ambush her. The novelty had quickly worn off making the scenery rather dull to her. Spending your whole life fighting will do that to you. Fortunately her boredom was broken by something new.

Nestled in the fog was a settlement of some kind. Though she was hard pressed to call it as such; it didn't line up with any architecture she knew and was far too plain. Marakasha felt them before she saw them. Thralls were littered throughout the ramshackle settlement in their homes or wandering about. The blood within them called out to her, her bloodlust struggled within its seal but her power kept it at bay. At one point in time she could have simply pulled the blood out of their bodies with a twitch of her finger, but that seemed to be beyond her now. Walking through the village Marakasha made for a rather bizarre sight. Appearing like a human woman in striking finery a far cry from the Beastman which made their home in the desert. Though her crimson eyes would unnerve the average person, marking her as something not human.

"You there, beast."

Marakasha calls out to a random Beastman who happened to be one of the few that had drawn closest to her, his curiosity being greater than his fear.

"Tell me the way out of this desert."

Her eyes bore holes into the villager who seems to struggle with her gaze before responding. A frown stretches across her face. She could barely understand him some words sounded familiar, if nothing else she was sure he said "Khantor" but other than that his garbled speech was woefully primitive. It hardly sounded like a civilized language at all, let alone the one she knew. This was an issue. Dismissing the thralls useless presence she stepped past him continuing her wandering content to just go in a direction till she found something new to stimulate her. To what end though Marakasha couldn't say. That moment was when a voice called out to her. And this time she understood it clearly, it spoke just behind her in a tongue she was all too familiar with. The only problem was her senses told her there was in fact nothing behind her. She looked over her shoulder but there was nothing, the voice had told her to go west before fading away entirely. It was a peculiar situation, she was not sure how much time had passed but it had been long. For someone to be alive who knew her language and recognized to speak it to her was improbable. Marakasha knew it was all but impossible, but could it be a surviving Vampire? Could she really have missed one? The feeling that bloomed in her wasn't exactly hope but it was a promise of purpose. She didn't feel anything in particular about what she was created to do, but it was all she had. And so, the Vampire walked west.


The journey she underwent from there was fraught with all sorts of curious happenings. It became apparent to Marakasha that in the Vampires absence the Beasts had1bb64ee52711cf457988867b8683abbe.jpg become their own greatest enemy. Murder, theft and all manner of immoral acts were done with reckless abandon in this new untamed Khantor. She had even watched a rat like beast slowly bleed out on the roadside. It cried and shouted in a high pitched squeaky voice. Marakasha found its death throes cute in a humourous way. So she stayed with it, stroking it's head till it died before going on her way. The Beast thralls descendants reminded her of Demons, though they were far less destructive on an individual scale and she had yet to see any of them drink blood. Though perhaps they did and she had yet to see the act? Yes they may not be nearly as powerful as the Demons but on a wider scale if this is what they were as a species then perhaps their potential for destruction even exceed her enemies. Perhaps they too will die out much like the Vampires had though she did not particularly feel like destroying an entire race again. So perhaps she'll just watch this play out naturally... Fortunately it seemed these Beasts possessed some manner of reason as a couple she encountered on her travels managed to communicate intelligibly enough to tell her where she was going and even guided her in the right direction. While somewhat insolent she deigned not to kill them in return for their loyal aid to her. She had remained quiet the entire trip not wishing to communicate more than strictly necessary fortunately for them they took the hint and didn't inquire much about her.

Now she realized what that other Beast had meant when it mentioned Khantor. It wasn't just the nation but a part of the name of this lands current capital. And she was drawing close to it. Her journey had not lasted nearly as long as one may think, as a True Vampire she did not need to eat, sleep, or even produce waste so she could continue on almost indefinitely the only obstacle being boredom. Entering the wildlands Marakasha could not help but think to something she had not considered before. Now that she was weaker it was quite likely she could not handle the sun the way she could before. In the past it had merely irritated and made her somewhat dizzy, but now? She trembled slightly, just the thought was rather embarrassing if anyone saw her in such a state she would likely rip them in two out of shame. Her steps ceased. She stared forward with an unreadable expression, in front of her was a river of blood. Small though it was the red liquid was unmistakable. Deep within her the bloodlust once again strained against its chains but she stamped it down simply enough. Frankly she felt like someone was mocking her, and she wasn't amused. She looked up to the likely culprit standing upon a ledge just above her, looking down on her. Marakasha was sure the figure hadn't been there before yet it stood there like it was natural. Like the voice from before it spoke to her in her own language but though she was sure it was a Beast she could identify nothing else about it.

"The malady to forget is not something I am capable of. Furthermore I feel no desire to converse with you further."

Extending her arm she flicked two of her fingers up. The blood flowing through the river surged churning like a maelstrom. A wave of blood launched into the air. With another swipe of her arm they formed into numerous great lances suspended in the air all aimed at the cloaked figure.

"This display here is intolerable to my senses, and I utterly loathe your gaze."

Marakasha voice had the tenor of someone seeking to be rid of a troublesome mosquito. It did not even register to her that this being could be dangerous to her, she felt insulted and that was the only reason she needed. There was another deeper reason however, she was disappointed. Upon seeing the Beastman she knew it wasn't a Vampire. Cementing that the Vampires were indeed all gone, and she would remain without direction. Despite that she had yet to attack instead merely staring down the cloaked figure, she was evidently not finished. The Vampire sighed almost childishly like she was told to do something she didn't want to do but begrudgingly accepted.

"However, you did guide me here. Whatever your intentions I found support through you. Therefore I will allow you to speak, should your words displease me I shall simply end you."

Marakashas words were bizarre were she anywhere but Khantor she would likely be called insane or a monster, so brutally alien were her sensibilities. Yet whether she knew it or not she was suited to Khantor and it's bloody culture which had the trappings of civilization.

  • Crimson Moon - Intellect / - A power displayed in Marakasha's battle with the Fallen Vampires known as "Demons" which earned her the title "Princess of the Crimson Moon". She can manipulate and shape blood within a 10 meter radius. Though in the past this was once without limit. While she cannot manipulate the blood within a person body, she can impose her will upon it the moment its spilled. She prefers to manipulate her own blood forming it into spikes, tendrils or waves that shoot across the ground. Though unlike living creatures her blood holds no purpose for survival it is merely a means to exercise control either through her power or by turning others into lesser Vampires.
 
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