Problematic Arrivals - Printable Version

All your dreams are down below

the gravedigger

The first of three gemstones set into the wall of Draco was beginning to shiver. Energy had stored within it for the last cycle and now it was prime time to erupt - a spiderwebbing crack as the valkhound began to awaken quickly turned into a full blown-open hole of the chrysalis as the massive armored beast burst from its gemstone shell. Its head came first, like a battering ram against frail wooden doors, and then the rest of it kicked its way forward.

Its claws braced against the edges of the broken stone as it fought to free itself, eventually squeezing the last of its body from the now partially collapsed oilstone. Not quite the eruption it had attempted, but it was free. A deep rumbling sound rising from its chest as it shoved the last shards out of the way and its tail slid free behind it. It blinked, turning its head right and left as it tried to take stock of its surroundings. stone walls, other black stones nearby, a very very big stone not too far away, and the shuffling of creatures in the distance. It couldn't see them, they were far and it couldn't see well, but bat-like ears twitched upwards as it felt their viberations through the earth.

The valkhound turned, instinctively beginning to lumber in that direction. Where there were people. Others. It did not know what to do otherwise.

buried under broken bones

- THE LEVIATHAN -

He sensed it just before it wandered over. The Oilstone is moving, followed by a mild mental facepalm as he reminded himself that they were all Oilstone. He turned, curious to see which had awakened first; it was Chaotic in nature and he could feel that on approach, but that still told him... Ahh.
It was as he had imagined it. And that was still... a novel feeling, to picture something in abstract and then to see it living and breathing before him.

Vargas strode to meet it, taking note of the powerful jaws, the sturdy built, the claws, the lava-like glow. Perfect. Appearances could be deceiving, though. "I see you are awake. Good. I am Master Vargas. You are V-Chaos-Fifteen: Gravedigger. You will learn and train here, among our Chaos Forge, until our Lord Dhracia retrieves you to wreak chaos throughout existence." Crash course in existence provided, he eyed it again and then went on: "Tell me! How do you feel?"

All your dreams are down below

the gravedigger

As the Master appeared, the newly emerged valkhound paused, backing up a step and turning its head up to the giant looming over it, head turning to try and find the best way to look up at him properly, finding it most comfortably to essentially roll its head to the side so it could peer up with half of its shitty eyesight.

"Master Vargas," it rumbled, affirmatively. "Gravedigger." Yes, it was understanding. Surprisingly so, for having awakened seconds before. But its moment of newborn confusion was giving way to a quiet, steady mind that took things in stride. It was being handed a lot of names and information very quickly, but it took it well and evenly. "Okay," Was its simple answer to Vargas's crash course. It reacted very little because it felt very little - names meant nothing, wreaking chaos sounded vaguely fun, and learning and training sounded fine and normal.

And then it was time for it to actually respond. Come up with something itself instead of just listen. So it looked away from the Master as it turned attention inwards - how was it feeling - and it found corruption. Hungry, yawning chaos. Like its stomach rumbling without any food, it hungered for destruction. Suddenly, that wreaking chaos thing sounded a lot more up its alley.

A rumbling sound began to vibrate from its plated chest and a droplet of glowing saliva dripped from the corner of its jaws. Its head turned back up to the Master. "I feel...hungry. Not...food hungry. When do I chaos?" Truly, the best way it could verbalize it.

buried under broken bones

The second chrysalis to have been seeded here, perhaps roused by the emergent energy of the first, began to give a shudder. This subtle mimicry was easily missed while the lumbering older-sibling went to be confronted by the Master; a quaking that was as spontaneous, chaotic, as it was expected. The walls of this particular chrysalis pulsed with energy and in some places, began to flake and come apart; however it was not anywhere near the same eruption as the first, and as the oilstone began to split and flake apart, an odious fluid came free between those cracks and oozed from within.

The creature inside shifted against the pinched, compacted interior. The thinner sections of the chrysalis allowed the shadow of this body to be seen, although not in great detail. When it finally lifted a limb, long claw-tipped fingers wedged themselves in to the cracks and began to pry at them from the inside-out. Further spidering of the stone allowed for more of this hand to emerge and wedge itself in the resulting gap. There was more movement, more pushing and pulling and fighting against the stone, until finally...

With a wet suctioning sound, chunks of the chrysalis cleaved free and hit the dirt. The tangled blackness of the creature inside then slid out, shining with oil or something resembling it, or maybe that was a trick of the light - but they hit the floor and gave a long hiss as that first breath heaved from their lungs.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas thought, for a moment, that Gravedigger meant Chaos itself: that they craved the magic, the stabilization. He glanced quizzically at the Black Spire, thinking that they'd just marinated in the stuff; why did it need-

...It does not mean Chaos. It means chaos, he realized. At least, tentatively, he thought so. He decided to make sure. "Do you mean, you crave the magic that spawned you? -You will need that, periodically. Or do you mean that you crave combat? -Bloodlust?" he suggested, unsure.

Ahh--and here came Virosa, a plopping tangle of limbs and Oil not far off. Vargas glanced over, and saw that this creation, too, had come out as expected. No immediate faults or failures on his part, at least. "Here. Your sibling. Virosa, The Black Tangle. V-Chaos-Sixteen, but you may use this name. Virosa!" he boomed. ...Relatively gently. "Your task will be to fight Order in these caves. I will teach you more of that in time. But I am Master Vargas; you belong to the Chaos Forge, as do we. We work to serve this Nest."

Virosa was not a creature particularly built for direct combat. And it would need time to come to terms with its magic--otherwise, he might have offered for them to spar one another right away. No, though. I will speak to this one. And perhaps bring them for a hunt, let them cooperate and learn to kill for food. That--yes. A trip to Pegasus would be best.

All your dreams are down below

the gravedigger

It stared, almost blankly, at Master Vargas. It didn't understand the answer. To be honest, it hadn't really understood the question when it rolled out of its mouth anyways, so it answered back with a shrug. "I don't know." It didn't feel particularly bloodlust-ful.

It paused that line of thought for the moment because there was another thing coming. A lankier thing. Taller. It wanted to be that tall. Its head moved up to blink at it as best it could, turning the head to try and get the best view of it. Why did Vargas give it three names? Gravedigger only got two. Was it more important if it had three names? It realized, as soon as the thought came to it, that it didn't really care. "Virosa!" He boomed back, trying to imitate the powerful voice of the Master above them. "I am Gravedigger!"

And then...another one. An even more different thing. Feathers, wings, mask, looking even more cool then Gravedigger and Virosa combined. The valkhound stared at it, impressed already. "Other one! I am Gravedigger!" All of this excitement, new discovery, was starting to amp up the child and the craving in it got stronger, returning it back to what it had been thinking before. It wanted to knock something over. It wanted to break something, like how it broke the chrysalis that had spawned it.

So...it broke something. Without regard for its surroundings, as a child is prone to do, the Gravedigger looked down and began to stomp at the rocks beneath its feet, something surging in its chest and bleeding into the ground. The stones beneath cracked and turned black then they already were. The Gravedigger grinned, as much as it could. Yeah, that's what it wanted! Break things! Destroy!!

buried under broken bones

Through the steam-like whistling of its breath the newborn creature could hear other sounds - voices, words it did not immediately understand - and yet as these sounds continued a curious acquisition transpired; the more it heard the more it came to understand, at least auditorily, and through detangling its own mess of limbs it felt a certain clarity arrive in tandem. The creature stood there as a shivering mass of wet, black, spidering pieces... and when it heard the words Virosa, Black Tangle, its long bone-like face gave a shake in the manner of a person trying to shunt a bad memory away as it flashes to life in their mind. Of course, this creature was new and did not have such things yet - it was only trying to adjust to the sensation of having a face.

The voice that had been speaking then called, "Virosa!" and the nubile valkhound stumbled forth to find whatever dull light existed in the periphery of this gathering. Gleaming off of its black and oily skin, there was very little to indicate where the shadows began and where Virosa differentiated. Jaw hinging, their teeth click a few times as they tap-tap-tap them, curious of their own amalgamation and less attentive to the words being spoken.

Then, another voice - and humming? But the humming wasn't words, and it came from another chrysalis, so Virosa disregarded it. The one called Gravedigger was a low-slung, draconic thing so unlike themselves - but Virosa knew them, somehow. Knew they were the same, even if they looked so alien by comparison. More clicks of its teeth, clattering of jaw bones. These other creatures spoke with sounds in the throat, and the movement of tongues; when Virosa tried, their hard tongue lifted up and down but would not contort for sounds, or lip-smacking, for lack of lips, and all that they could produce was a series of clicks, scrapes, and deep-throated sounds often associated with drowning.

Looking from child to parent and back, and back again, Virosa's attention shifted to the one called @Vargas and mimed speech, shivering its jaw so the teeth could chatter emphatically.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas snorted gently. "Very well," he told Gravedigger. "Either way you will have the-" ...opportunity for both, soon, his words trailed off into thought as Gravedigger made its dreams a reality.

An amused eyeroll later, he was looking to the newest arrival. "V-Chaos-Seventeen. Valethyr, the Absolver. Greetings," he spoke, eyeing this one. What remained of a Master. He sighed a little, hoping he never ended up with this fate. Not that he'd be him anymore, at that point, but regardless... it seemed so undignified. Even with that said, though, there was still an eerie power to Valethyr: a horrible, predatory otherness that the Leviathan himself could appreciate. This one, after all, had not been his design.

"You will be a part of the Chaos Forge as well: you are a being of Chaos and you will battle Order in these caves. That is your purpose. I will teach you how, given time. Do not start fights, and obey the Forge; come to the Black Spire here from time to time so that you do not die." Basics were now out of the way.

And Virosa-...

Vargas paused at the chittering and chattering, eyeing it. Was that some form of mistake in the design-? How irritating. Still, he had to admit the movement--like bones--was disconcerting. Perhaps that'd have some usefulness against its prey.