ORIGIN

It was that time, again.

Time for another creation--he had no doubt his Lord would be here soon to collect Baokrish. And preparations had to be made for the next up on his list.

Truth be told, he'd spared it little thought: the Forge had been quite busy, as late. Perhaps too busy. He pushed that thought away: it was difficult to keep track, but it was... manageable, for now. It had been a flood of activity: the Deathmatch, the recruiting and the preparation of lessons for the rest, the cooperation with Farina, the building and training that his spawn were doing. Yes-... it was on the cusp of just too much; if the nest and the Forge continued to improve, Vargas might have to take action to slow their progress enough to keep it under his control.

So he hadn't much planned this next creature. He'd had no word back of his first, sent out into the wide worlds: had it died? Succumbed to its prey, or to the environment? He had no idea what had happened, which was troubling; it left him little room to adapt mistakes, to improve on his errors. He had to guess, for now.

A serpent, he'd thought idly--and not a bootleg beast like Chaos-One, no. A real serpent: a constrictor, long and made of scale-clad muscle. In fact, some carapace might do, he thought. And quills. Extra eyes, of course, were a given. His concept was based around the void-fire that Chaos was capable of: an immense serpent (a preferred shape) that could coil around a victim and ignite it in black fire. To that end, he'd give it an armored belly slicked in Oil.

And there was another topic, too, that he had to now address: his promising young scout, the Carmeltazite replacement of the owl that Valkhand Aethril had slain, had abruptly dropped into a chrysalis. He'd kept watch on it but for now he had to assume that it would not awaken; there was no good reason it should have entered hibernation, and it was wise to create a replacement, just in case. He thought he'd work with the same design, but with a good, strong Oilstone; perhaps it was the gem itself that had failed Cheshire-? It didn't matter: the silent wings and mixture of perfect hunter-of-the-air and hunter-of-the-ground would still serve him well. It was a good design; there was little he'd need to change. He'd decided to give this one a venomous tail spike, and an extra set of limbs: otherwise, it would be much the same.

Master Vargas took a place before the Womb, rocking back onto his haunches and studying the available shards of Oilstone, pondering which to work with.

Vargas glanced sidelong at Cain, as it arrived. He waited for it to speak, as its haunches settled on stone--he held a genuine respect for the little creature that didn't extend to very many others. It had his full attention as it spoke, and-

"Ha!" he barked. "Flattery, as I have said, will get you everywhere; I would hardly call it a masterpiece. But I do have something in mind, yes. And," he added, glancing at one of the Oilstone shards he planned to use, "I'll be replacing the Carmeltazite as well. It's gone into hibernation and I have no time to waste in waiting for it," he explained.

Vargas cast a glance to the stones, then to Cain, and then the stones again. Why not detail the process? It may find this useful, he decided; no reason not to include his favorite cat-beast in his work. The Leviathan shuffled a bit aside, so as to make the stones more visible--mere shards, really--and spoke with an idle gesture of one six-clawed hand.

"This one will be Lord Dhracia's. I am intending something serpentine: something capable of constriction, with small limbs for gripping. I will give it slicks of Oil that seep between hardened scales along its belly, flat scales--and the magic to ignite that Oil. Then, you see," he went on, and now he too rocked back on his haunches, lifting his hands to try and somehow demonstrate with little twists of his fingers what he meant. "-Like this--it will be able to grip a victim, coil around it, and ignite it--burn it completely to ash without much trouble, I think. It'll be burned a little, of course, but nothing it won't get used to," he went on. "And I try to always design in auxiliary eyes, in case the first are damaged; and I think I'll give this one some venom, too," he decided. Or try to, at least. "...Maybe a pincer at the tail, so it can grip with that, as well." A split tail, instead of a pointless single shape: yes, that was a good idea.

"As for the other one, the messenger replacement--you'll be in charge of that one, to some extent. Moving unseen, and all that. I will be giving it extra legs, a catlike tail, venom also," because venom was good; and he briefly reflected that he hadn't planned extra eyes for this one but oh well. He could always give it more later if it lost them. "Darker colors, too. The last one was too bright," he remarked. "And Chaos magic. We'll see how a stealthy creature does with that, instead of Light."

He then fell silent--intent on his work, but also curious as to what Cain might say, or even suggest to him. Or, of course, perhaps the Overseer would only absorb what he was saying, attentive as always, and learn a thing or two from it.

In any case, there was no point in dawdling; Vargas set a hand down on the larger of the two shards, briefly focusing, pressing his Master's magic into it. Be fierce, and cunning, and predatory, he urged the stone, all his eyes narrowing in concentration.

Vargas glanced up, staring, for a beat. "...No, Chaos-One. Not that you have achieved all that much; if you do not want to be replaced, you should start trying!" He stared harder, watching as Nidhogg coiled back, hissing a little.

Then he looked back to his work, and focused on the second stone--placed a ways away, in case it hatched when he was not present. The last thing he wanted was the serpent-beast swallowing his new scout whole before he could intervene-! This 'womb' he carefully attended, cleaning bits out (bones and chips of stone) and setting the little oilstone higher up.

A moment's focus, imagery held in his mind of violet-barred black wings and the same cheshire grin he'd given the first iteration, and he had granted this stone new life.

"-There," he declared, and drew away. He waited to see if the others had more to say; but otherwise, he would soon require rest. Not sleep--but a quiet day of eating, drinking, and thinking, instead of (for once) action.