Aure, bless his little heart, was kind and selfless to a fault --- at his bravest when another's life was at stake.

A thin call, almost hoarse with its frantic pleas, stole through the fortresses. Ears pricking toward the source of the sound, the glided over. Circling once or twice, he conjured up a bout of magicka and supposed that being at eye level would be better... A cool flame trailed him as he descended into the ribs of the dead, talons clicking hollowly against long-dried bones. Bright eyes scanned the shadowed recesses of the fortresses, wary as the cries for help faded into a soft murmur with no additional sound.

Magic, perhaps? His wisp bobbed forth, towards the source of the sound, following his line of sight.

A chirp, soft and rather useless: "are you still there? I can help you. Make a sound, okay?"

A shadow descended upon him, swallowing him up in seconds before he could even begin to notice. Aure let out an involuntary shriek as a heavy weight fell upon him, bright eyes going wild in his skull as he flailed and tried to look for what had attacked him. It shifted slightly, only to move him onto his back and to bring its face into full view: a monstrous being with acidic-green eyes and far too many teeth for him to be comfortable. Immediately --- on instinct --- his stone began to work its magic, and he almost didn't recognize that this thing was talking to him.

Nothing came to his aid, and the wyvern began to squirm, legs kicking uselessly at the much heavier creature's hind legs --- like that'd make it move.

Breaths coming rapidly, tiring rapidly in the face of this enormous creature, Aure stared up wildly. Who was he--- Overseer? If he wasn't really focused on surviving this encounter, he might've thought back to Naskital and his offhand use of the title. Instead, his beak began to move a mile a minute, distracted as he tried to think of how best to get out of this--- talking, apparently: "m'name's Aure and I don't know what an Overseer is even if I've heard of it before and I live here because that's... something people do. Am I supposed to have a right to be here? Living isn't enough?" Ears flattening against his head, he tried to figure out which set of eyes to look at. "Are you an Overseer?"

Alright, so, something must've been up with anything he said, because the pair of eyes he was looking into widened --- actually, they all did. As soon as he finished talking, trailing off uneasily, the monster bellowed, clearly shocked and ducking its head with audible sniffing. Pointedly not giving a census report, Aure grimaced and kept hacking away at his magic, answering a question with a question of his own, "uhm, unworthy of what?"

Even as inky frills began to sprout along his flank, audibly squelching as they broke underneath the added pressure keeping him pinned, the wyvern stared up in shock. He squirmed minutely, looking for at least some wiggle room and the chance to maybe not be at this thing's mercy. "Yes... to both of those things," Aure chirped, bright eyes switching to yet another pair of eyes to look at, "um, are there supposed to be Overseers?"

Then, a rather stupid thought came up to him --- he couldn't really think of this guy as just Monster --- "uh, what's your name?"

To say Aure flinched --- when armblades were brought against his body, holding him in place with the promise of very sharp edges --- was an understatement. He yelped sharply, bright eyes glinting wildly in the half-light as he seized up. Above him, the monstrosity snarled and spat, and the wyvern swore he could see a droplet of acidic-green saliva approaching his eyeball. Disgusting. Tucking his wings close to himself, huddling in his slimy mess of himself, Aure simply nodded.

Unworthy, the word rolled distantly in his mind, though it scattered like a bunch of marbles as Vargas continued to bellow and demand things of him. "I don't think... they're weak and malformed. None that I've ever seen --- um, I've heard stories about people fighting Raheerah in Polaris or... some creatures across the caves and being led some Masked thing..." Pretty strong, it seemed. Not weak, imperfect as Vargas would suggest.

As to how many others lived here... "I don't know for sure but... there's a lot. There's got to be hundreds across the caves, at least. Some are in their chrysalises but--- a lot of them are wandering around, though, living and stuff."