ORIGIN - boarding school entries

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It was a long trek from Eridanus to Draco. There were more than enough pit-stops for the two of them to eat- mostly, Attikias had paused partway into Ursa, lighting a fire to warm them both up and to eat something along the way.

Though, he did lose Erebos a few time sin the snow. Occupational hazard, he guessed.

Erebos's mask was staying on well, at least. It had remained unpainted, but it was useful, and it hadn't fallen off. Attikias often looked back to his child and stared at the mask, wondering on the visibility, about how comfortable it was, but Erebos never was one to talk much.

"We're almost there," he'd said while they passed through the tunnel, his tail flicking behind him. Last time he'd come this way, there was a guard that had let them through- were they still around? He'd paused just before the Aperture, unsure if he could even enter without checking in with the clerk, first.

One hand held out for Erebos to stop, and Attikias let in and out a slow breath, looking around. What was their name again..? He wasn't certain, but he still knew to say something before he went in fully.

And so, he drew himself up, calling out a small "hey?" into the dark cavern, one hand cupping his mouth.

(lemme post erebos rq a)

This was a lot of walking- or, slithering?- for one creature. It was nearly certain it had rashes on its smoother underside, and it ached all over, grumbling most of the way on over. It preferred to have a lesson instead of this, really. This did not feel worth it.

And yet, it continued on, slightly enticed by the food and invigorated after burying itself in Ursa's snowdrifts.

As it came to the Apterature, its claws dragged along the tunnel before it, claws scraping the plants gently. Why did he bring it here? How would this help it win?

It halted when Attikias told it to. A small, bestial hiss rose through its throat, but it didn't do anything else, listening for whatever its father was looking for.

@The Sentinel (if you wanna post!)

The Sentinel stepped forward, a quiet shuffle, leaning toward the echo of a voice. The Valk-blade Mirac gripped tightly in hand, he stepped from the shadows and toward the tunnel.

He'd been patrolling, more than just standing guard; in and out, halfway down Tunnel G to guard a hidden chrysalis he'd been bidden to watch. He had just come from there several minutes ago and therefore, whoever was calling was a new arrival. It seemed unlikely to be hostile, he judged; more likely, a lost wanderer wondering what lay within.

An easy stride--half hunched, at first--carried him forward, and when at last he came in sight of the strangers (his shadow-cloaked form seeming to ooze from the background shadows) he paused to look them over. The first one--the humanoid--he thought he might have seen before; or was he thinking only of the Hand, Aethril? Its shape, at least, was familiar to him. The blue ghostlight eyes in his face and atop his ears scanned Attikias over, and judged that he was without natural armor, but likely skilled with his hands--as the Sentinel was; capable of wielding weapons and the like. But when his gaze shifted to the other, he was given pause.

He'd observed Erebos as large, silvery, as his focus was on Attikias. Now he saw it as it was: immense, with massive muscled coils, scaly-plated skin, and hands of its own. A mask-like face--or was it a mask, itself?

The Sentinel drew himself up fully, and where normally he'd have set the butt of his halberd down, he lifted Mirac up lightly instead. Undoubtedly, the blade would have much to say, but he did his best to offer something perhaps more useful.

"The Sentinel guards this Aperture. The Chaos Forge and the Black Spire lie within. What is it that they seek?"

To the point, at least; even if the phrasing was a little... odd.

@Mirac

Attikias lowered his hand as the Sentinel came into view- and he seemed... Recognizable. Did he know him? Maybe at the war band gathering...

He put it to the back of his mind, turning to face him and placing a gentle hand on Erebos's back. There was a quick glance to the strange sword (corrupted?), and he let out a gentle hum of a noise, considering. A strange weapon, but it was neat in its organic-ness.

His eyes snapped up at the Sentinel's greeting. Was that a choice for which they sought, or..? "Uhh- The Forge," he eventually answered, pulling his hand away from Erebos and planting both on his hips. "I was looking to enter my child, ahh- they need training, for their fighting. I thought they'd fit in."

This seemed like a good idea, he figured, since the Forge fought monsters all the time (he thought, at least). "Their name is Erebos. Erebos, say hi," he asked in his gentlest tone, turning to the naga and holding a hand out to them. "Is it you I should talk to about them staying here?"

(skippin mirac because of gort's absence permission)

Erebos's single eye stared back to the Sentinel, expressionless other than its squint. Under the mask, it was baring its teeth- was this being sizing it up? Its tail coiled closer and its bristles raised, hissing under its breath. It didn't like this- Attikias was being questioned, and this Sentinel was standing in front of them, armed.

But, he didn't seem aggressive. Was was his deal?

Its eye snapped to Attikias when it was addressed, its claws resting on its tail. Silent as ever, it watched, considering. But, when he said to say hi, it hissed again, louder as a growl, looking back to the Sentinel. No, it decided- it did not want to say hi, and the noise was the best he'd get.

It would stay here if it meant it didn't need to see any more of the elf, at least.

@The Sentinel

The Sentinel did not, at first, respond. Instead he simply stared at Erebos.

The seconds ticked by as he waited, motionless and silent.

At last, when no other sounds bar the faint hiss were forthcoming, he tilted his head very slightly. "It does not wish to speak," he observed, indifferently--apparently he'd been giving it time to respond to Attikias's request to say "hi."

It had not said "hi."

The Sentinel moved on. His gaze shifted back to Attikias. "They will speak to the Master. There is training. Those in Draco are of the Forge." What he more meant to explain was that nobody really stayed in Draco to train with the Forge; they were either a part of it, training with its other members, or they were not. But he wasn't very good with words and so he'd turned away, stalking off with his lopsided stride for the Black Spire. "MASTER VARGAS." Mirac was held in one clawed fist, but the Sentinel's gaze swept the black rock ahead. "It is this way," he decided aloud; "come."

A moment later he was speaking--whether the pair had followed him or not; he hadn't gone all that far. He was addressing a gap between a huge hunk of Oilstone and a black boulder. "Master Vargas. Two have come. It wishes its child to train among the Forge," he said--and stepped aside.

The Sentinel then seemed to simply meld into the background: falling silent, motionless, to allow Vargas to greet their guests.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas pulled himself out of the hole he'd been down--a huge gap, one of Draconua's doing. He'd been rooting around it to see what was down there, and little more--to see if the roots of the Black Spire were exposed, or if there was Oilstone he could make use of.

Black dust clung to him as he dragged his way up and out; here he paused to regard his two visitors. Attikias he knew on sight; he'd met this one as a child, and again as an adult here in Draco, and had gotten its name once or twice secondhand. He greeted this one with a pleased nod. To see the hunter alive and well boded well for its strength, its power. "You live," he said; "Good."

The other, he cast acid gaze over, and considered briefly. It looked like a hybrid: half Attikias, with the other half reminding him quite distinctly of the original bearer of the Orthoclase that had formed Overseer Alpha. Pale, segmented, chitinous. But instead of centaur-like, it was serpentine, and at this he wondered.

He looked to Attikias. "Your creation-?" he assumed, lifting a forearm to wipe some of the dust from his flanks. "You offer it to the Forge-?" He looked to the serpentine creature. "You wish to join us?" he asked.

He hadn't considered the idea that it might simply want to train among the Forge, without joining up with them--he realized it only now, belatedly, but considered. "Or does it simply want to train with us?" That could be an interesting prospect, too, he realized. If the other creatures of the caves were invited to work temporarily alongside the Forge to benefit both sides, it would likely spike loyalty and productivity tenfold. Hell, he could ask for its spawn at the end of its training, in return?

Well--he would see how things went, and what exactly they wanted, first; the Sentinel was not always particularly clear.

@Attikias

Attikias stared, too.

Erebos only stared back.

Attikias sighed. "They don't like to speak," he explained, tapping his knuckles together awkwardly. They weren't their first child to do this, but while Vivilene was cooperative, Erebos was starkly not. The elf glanced between the two of them- Erebos, with their head lowered, and to the Sentinel, to his weapon. They would speak to Vargas, then. "'Course," he only said with a bob of his head.

Unsure of where to put his arms, he settled on folding them together as he followed the Sentinel, tail flicking behind him. Vargas was there- and, somehow, the hulking figure made Attikias relax. It was some form of familiarity, comfort in the authority. He lived. "I try," he huffed out with a soft joking tone, dropping his arms.

He turned as Vargas inspected Erebos, and nodded to the Leviathan. "Erebos- my family's way of life isn't--" he waved one hand in a circle, struggling to grasp at the words. "They seek fights. They don't listen." (Erebos hissed at this.) "... They don't like me, but I thought they would like you."

Looking back to Erebos, he sidestepped. "This is your decision. You can train here so you won't get hurt again-" and he ran two fingers over where Erebos's eye was missing on his own face- "and apply yourself. Get yourself into fights you can actually win." The implied worry was evident- and not die, he wanted to add so bad, but that would be insult to injury, wouldn't it? "Besides, I figure you'd want more members for your Forge, and Erebos might actually enjoy something for once." He gave a small glance to Vargas, shrugging.

Moving his hand to his mouth, he tapped his fist to his lips, waiting for Erebos's answer.

Erebos's lips pulled up in a closed-mouth grimace when Attikias gave the Sentinel clearly redundant information. Just move on already, it tried to will, shoving forward on its long tail and slithering right behind the Sentinel. Masters, Vargases- Attikias had tried to impress that onto it, and some stuck. Masters, to it, were Big Monsters, and things that could eat it instead, or fight it. But, learning to be one of those monsters from one of them?

The idea finally struck Erebos. Its slitted eyes widened just slightly, and it surged forward, eager to see this 'Vargas'. His hulking form was evident, first, as he emerged from the hole, and Erebos bristled at the sheer size. No explanation could emphasis his presence. It wanted that presence, that power, and it ground its teeth. Arms landed onto the pulsing floor and its claws scraped down the rock, its long spine arching like a cat's.

Its ear flicked when Attikias spoke. Fights? Yes. Didn't listen? It hissed, growling- it didn't listen to weak things. "Don't need to like you," it spat, the short spines along its body quivering.

It could train here. It could win. While it didn't completely understand the concept of forges or whatever, perhaps it would fit in, if they could actually teach it something useful.

"Monsters fight me. I lose- I don't want to lose. I will fight and win." Its voice was a low growl, staring up at Vargas almost challengingly. Could he teach it what it wanted, then? Or would it just be some brute, like the one in Cetus? "I will train to win. You will teach me. Fffforge, me." A question in the form of a statement. It dared him to deny it. Attikias had nothing left to teach it- he was weak. Vargas, so large, with the spines on his arms? The quills, the teeth, the form? His entire form exuded strength.

And Erebos would be as strong as him.

@Vargas (unsure if sentinel is just chillin off to the side)

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas fired an unimpressed glance over Erebos, the humor at Attikias's joke quickly leaking away. The faint, short laugh--more an exhale--he gave vanished just as fast. It wasn't that the serpentine creature wasn't physically imposing--it held potential. It was that he had enough mindless, violent beasts to deal with, and right now he could really use some actual soldiers, workers, those who could obey.

"I have a number of spawn here that are already difficult to control, but this one looks like it has potential," he said, at first addressing Attikias--and then, more loudly (as if its seemingly half-bestial nature would somehow be easier to cut through with greater vocal volume), to Erebos: "There are rules to obey, here. I am the Master; you will listen to what I say. There are punishments for harming others outside of fights, spars," which--well, those punishments hadn't been announced yet, but fair to warn them in advance. "For disobedience. But if you serve us well, we will train you. Teach you how to fight, and properly. We will forge you, yes. Teach you how to win. Can you do that? Can you obey, in return for what you want?" Vargas asked, trying to keep it as plain and blunt as possible.

He glanced at the Sentinel, simply standing there a few yards distant; he would make, Vargas thought, for a decent sparring partner going forward, should Erebos accept.

@Attikias

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