ORIGIN - FRESH MENACE

There’s something to be said about Draco- it certainly lived up to its title. The womb lent itself to the growth of its inhabitants, planted chrysalises flourishing under the Black Spire’s watchful gaze, building those chrysalises just to order.

Of course, it wasn’t like those inside the chrysalises had any way to know this. The freshest Valkhound had laid unaware for long enough, the confines of its chrysalis growing tighter each day, faint light casting through the flecked Oil of its stone. Its bulk was just the size its creator desired- large, bestial, and ready to cause some chaos.

But, first, the being needed to escape.

There was one jerk, and a crack. Then another jerk- something fell away, and a tooth caught on the outside, prying away hard crystal. An opening, just large enough to fit the many-eyed snout’s end, large nostrils flaring with slick fluids running over them. A heavy breath huffed out and liquid sprayed into the air just as it felt its confines break away.

It was free.

Surging up, the newborn beast peeled itself from its cocoon, heavy, wet limbs falling to the ground as the crocodilian slipped out. It was-- dark, its first sensation, as it blinked awake all of its eyes. Too dark. Taking in a deep breath, leopard spots flared to life down its hide and glinted off Draco’s walls, drawing the beast’s attention to the shine. That was it- that yellow reflection. Testing, it turned to the side, licking its glowing tongue over violent teeth, marveling at the light it emitted.

Strange. It He- yes, he- liked it. Intimidating, bright. Absorbed in himself, he slapped down his tail as the rest of himself emerged from the shattered chrysalis, sliding on the slick fluids of his birth.

He was alive. His breath rattled with a growl, and he bared his teeth in what could be a grin, his head slowly raising to stare out into the surrounding cave.

What next?

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

There it is.
Long had Vargas waited, for this--the last of a certain breed to be formed by his own hand. Maybe. He hadn't decided yet. Potential betrayal, precautions, and all of that--but anyway, Baokrish was a creation of pure chaos. Violence and cunning, brute force and power. Vargas didn't know earth animals very well, but if he had, he might have--in a moment of uncreative inspiration--called Baokrish his Whalligator. Half whale, half alligator, Whalligator.

He--from his perch on a boulder close by, where he'd been guarding this particular gemstone (and how valuable it was-)--looked over its thick teeth, its stark countershading, the golden glow igniting its thick hide here and there.

He saw his work, and he was pleased. There was something about the immediately calculating nature of the creature--it considered its own reflection, it looked out over the cave--that told Vargas all was well. It had a mind all its own. Would it prove vicious, favoring action over words? Or would it simmer with malicious insults?

"You," he told it, his voice its own boom, "are Baokrish, God of the Sea, and I have made you." Lanky limbs pushed upright, and the Leviathan leapt neatly down, spined arms carrying him toward his newest creation. He circled, keeping a little distance--in case it was more mindless than he'd hoped--and looked it over. "You are a good creation," he informed it, his tone pleased. "You will wreak havoc and destruction in the name of Chaos. Do you understand me?"

Yes, things had changed--and drastically so. Perhaps he shouldn't have been taking pleasure in this particular monstrosity--but as Lord Dhracia said, none of them could pretend that they were good. No; he was proud of his work, proud of the devastation it would wreak. Call it a moment of weakness, or a return to his old nature, but this was a job well done.

@Baokrish

At Vargas's voice, the beast- Baokrish's head snapped towards him, all rows of eyes wide and judging.

His first thought was that this thing was big. Raising up on heavy limbs, Baokrish took in a deep breath, hissing in through those jaws and teeth. He was Baokrish, God of the Sea. This was his maker. At Vargas's approach, Baokrish followed him with his head, keeping eye contact on this new contender.

So, he was made like this, with yellow and- from what he could see- dark and light? With heavy muscles, with thick skin? While the words were new to him, they stuck to his mind like branded instructions into plastic. He will cause havoc and destruction, then, and his throat warbled as he let out a crocodilian hiss.

"I..." The sound hissed out as though he were experimenting. Yes. Clicking his teeth, Baokrish drew himself back up and stared at Vargas's many eyes. "I am Baokrisssh. The God of the... Sssea." His words should be confirmation enough, but it seemed to be simple parroting, with matched tone and guttural hissing. He didn't know much yet, but it sounded good. He was a good creation after all, and a good creation would, quote, wreak havoc and destruction, then.

"What..." came his slow words, his first individual thought forming in his mind. He paused for a moment, eyes searching the far wall before he looked back to Vargas. "What do I destroy for Chaos?" His voice was a growl, and his teeth bared once more, excited for whatever else his creator had to say.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

It repeated its words back. Savage hiss, primeval growl, like a monster from the primordial muck.

Perfect.
Vargas felt that he'd truly outdone himself, this time. Baokrish's question, however, was a good one, and he moved back to perch atop his own haunches as he formed an answer. Nothing, here, was not good--it was stifling, a bridle and a muzzle for a beast that would want to bite.

"Whatever our Hand chooses to unleash you upon," Vargas replied, and some distant part of him felt a flicker of sadistic triumph, at this. Oh, his goals aligned now, certainly; but her request had not yet been honored--not at this one's creation--and she would need to carry Baokrish out and unleash him on the world. Why the glimmer of brutality in his heart? -Revenge. Savagery for savagery; perhaps nothing would be thought of it but to him, it meant something. A few sins answered by a final evil she would commit by her own hand--and he was the author of its destructive power.

Beautiful.

"You will learn, for the next four cycles. You will train. Fight. Hunt. And then you will be taken from this place--from us--and unleashed upon our enemies. And then--you will destroy everything."

Everything. Anything. Anything that stood in its way; anything that caught its eye. Anything too foolish to flee--or too slow, or too weak.

Things had changed, perhaps; but Baokrish--he was the perfect example of what Vargas could have done. He studied it: and he was filled with pride.

@Baokrish

Their Hand- words that flowed like water over his back. But unleash? Oh, that felt good to hear, to be designated a beast to be uncontrolled. Baokrish's head tipped up as he rumbled again, revelling in this new self-pride. Yes. He would be unleashed, then.

And he would learn. Training, fighting, basic promises that Baokrish took hold of and buried deep within, settling them in his core. He would destroy their enemies.

In the meantime, though- "So I don't destroy... Here?" The lip-raised tone of a sneer was obvious, as if he were nearly offended that whoever this Hand was wouldn't set him upon... Wherever here was. "I'll destroy in training?"

Lowering himself, Baokrish grumbled like a disappointed toddler, grinding his teeth. It'd be such a waste if he never properly caused the havoc he was meant to learn before he left, then! Obviously, they'd teach him that too, right?

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Ahh, Vargas liked this one. He'd done well--he thought--and allowed himself a moment of glowing pride in his creation. Just look at it! Physically powerful, a monster in every sense--and it was doing its best to get a handle on what was expected of it. Its disappointment in its leash was obvious, but there was no real sign of rebellion.

Still, Vargas considered its point. It wanted to destroy. "I am sure we will find you things to destroy here--for training," he explained, "but not everything here is to be destroyed. We can allow you to fight in the Deathmatch," he added, more thinking aloud. He didn't want to risk its life, of course. Not really. Not his finest creation, not before it had been unleashed. "Then you can kill everything you fight. You can kill and destroy when hunting your prey. That is, the rats and deer, and bats, in this place. Only the other members of the Chaos Forge are truly off-limits to you. But you will learn from them! Now: are you ready to learn how to do that?" he asked, looking it over again.

Could it jump straight into a major lesson-?

"I can teach you now where to hit to cause a thing to bleed to death. Where to bite to crush its mind to nothing. What do you think?" he asked; it seemed a creature of action, more than words.

As he'd intended it to be.

@Baokrish