Did Vargas... sleep?

This was a question that, to his knowledge, no one had ever asked. It was, in all fairness, one probably nobody actually cared about.

Whatever he was doing, it certainly resembled sleep: sprawled out on one of the upper ledges of Tunnel P, motionless in the heat where he lay above the chrysalids. Maybe he was sleeping. Maybe, even dreaming.

Or maybe he was resting, calm and alert but with closed eyes, for the sound of a chrysalis cracking down below. A specific one--or any one; he didn't tell anyone his motives. But there he lay, silent and waiting, like an assassin--or dead asleep and oblivious, like anything but.

"You're to keep one," came the Overseer's voice, and there he was, leaping nimbly down from ledge to ledge to come even with the chrysalids. But the way he stretched, even yawned, suggested that, at the very least, he had been resting.

"Everyone who retrieved one gets to keep one. It's a reward for managing: you can create an offspring with it, if you wish." Vargas, for his part, sounded fairly indifferent as he came to stand before--and above--the Desert Rose. He studied him, for a moment, and then his six-eyed hammerhead tilted lightly to one side. "...New teeth. Unsure what the Merchant's aiming for, there," he added, bemusedly. Like Desert, he seemed to think they would only be a nuisance. "More suited for combat, I'd think, unless he's transferring your purpose-? Still too small for that, but we will see. Ahh," he grunted, stretching and yawning again; "Do you remember enough to report-?"

It was said politely enough, though the stare suggested that he'd better.

Vargas first recognized his error, for a moment, with the diamond shard. Had Desert, in fact, come out with one-? With a leering grin he corrected his mistake. "Ah, that one wasn't yours, was it-? Well, then you cannot keep it. Maybe one of the others will barter, but it's a reward for retrieving the things. Its own reward, really."

To the rest, he listened closely, and he considered. The information was mostly useful, though Vargas did not come to all of the same conclusions. He considered simply dismissing it all, but Desert Rose--as much a brown-noser as it was--was trying his best to rise to a challenge that Vargas hadn't even, really, set him. If he's so insistent on jumping to his own conclusion, I'd best guide him in that. Maybe he'll rise higher, be more useful some day. (Even in his private thoughts, Vargas was sort of a dick, if unintentionally so.)

The teeth--latching on. That was first, and Vargas acknowledged it with a mere slight dip of his head, and a faint grunt. An unequivocal "maybe."

The rest he addressed one at a time, apparently quite skilled at holding multiple topics, in perfect order, in his mind. The work of an Overseer needed strong organizational skills, it seemed, and memory.

"Is there anything more you can tell me about the creatures who hatched in Hydra-? That shouldn't be," he mused... but really, what was stopping them? If stray magicka was igniting life across the caves, Hydra'd be the perfect natural breeding and testing ground for these beasts. If all the caves were as hostile, as volatile, the new generation wouldn't be so damn soft.

"I know a little of that puzzle. I think you were meant to bring down a vulture, or the like--they were weakened by the snow. A bit of dead tree," he added, slowly and pointedly. While Desert Rose was pointing out the foolishness of the others, it had... mysteriously... returned with a missing antler. "They seem decisive, at least, and obedient, if lacking in critical thinking. That has its purposes," Vargas added. And then, a bit of wisdom--a revelation, as small as it was. "Most of what might be a weakness in one role is a strength in another. It is not always about finding the best beast, but the best job for the beast. The best soldier might make for a terrible scout. A spy might question things; I don't want my soldiers doing so mid-combat. Thought can breed treachery," he added, grinning, briefly, at Desert Rose. "What happened to Palefur, then, in the end-? I need to speak with her awful spawn. It's been utterly useless so far--weak, wretched. I'm unsure there's any job that will find any use for it," the Overseer stated bluntly, oblivious to any impact this might have on Desert Rose. To Vargas, spawn was spawn; he'd felt some measure of something in Titanite's creation, but Dhracia's return had closed that side of him right back up. He'd toss Titanite to the Masters without a second thought, now.

He'd have to, if it came to it. He'd have no choice.

"Tell me more of the two big beasts. The hairy brown one, and the white one--descendent of the storm-thing, you said? As for the pearl, if its survival is that strong it may be of use as a scout. It is small enough. But alone, it would have died, undoubtedly. The chicken, too. Idiocy is not a strength," he said, bluntly; "I see little value in a creature that will throw itself into fatal injury and require assistance to even survive the rest. But I will bear it in mind, if I need to try to infuse fearlessness, relentlessness. Those things do not pass as readily, though." At least, in his experience. A child of a brilliant mind might be a fool; of a coward might be brave. Not always, of course; but those things depended at least as much on how it was raised, trained, than its lineage.

"The canine, though. I agree that one has potential, but as what-? They are--the canines--too..." Vargas paused, searching for a word, sitting back on his haunches to gesture with one overly-long forelimb. "Too lacking in mobility to serve as scouts, yes? Only swift over land. No flight, no fins. Perhaps you could try to breed with one, though I think that might waste your lines, looking only for wings," the Overseer mused. He studied Desert Rose for a minute longer. "I think an optimal scout would have a tougher hide, your overall build, slightly more size. But perhaps a canine trait or two. What is it that makes them so tough..? It might just be that they're generalists," he continued, coming to the realization aloud. "There's nothing particularly extreme about them, is there-?" They had fur, but not too much. Size, but not too much. Pointy bits--but not very much at all. Strength, endurance, speed, but all of these were individually less than other species.

It bore further consideration later.

Vargas shook the thought away and then looked to Desert Rose, and summarized his questions.

"Right, so tell me, then, about the two deaths--what happened? How did they fail? And do you know anything more about the children who hatched in Hydra? And about the dark beast, and the pale one."

He was, at least, treating the scout as though his opinions mattered, which was certainly a step up from the distant past.

Desert Rose's elaboration of the finer points of his report was, in a word, excellent. Vargas found himself actually paying attention, considering the servant's points instead of simply gauging his ability to report.

In particular, he considered, strongly, the idea of a wolf with thicker skin. He wondered if that might affect heat distribution overmuch, but it was an interesting concept. He himself had mentioned a tougher hide, but now he was thinking farther: carapaces, like Orthoclase-Alpha's.

Hmm.

"A canine of the larger sizes, or average, with a thick spined hide may do well. Although I think it would need less fur," he added, "for heat reasons. A messenger through hostile territory. Hm. Kera is sharp, useful, she had a level head. That paired with more initiative and physical ability would be useful, I think; as to their senses I have no idea." He considered sending Desert Rose off then and there to find him some dogs, wolves, and spiny things to breed (a crab, perhaps-?) but eyed him after a moment, and changed his mind.

He'd just awoken, after all.

"You did not HAVE to enter this trial, but you have done well. Your report is good, and well-received. Go and rest now; you have some time before I will call on you again. There are some other things that will need dealing with--but not yet. And no," he added, "I don't think those two returned here. I may send one of the children into Hydra, after some training, to try and seek them out--as their trial," he added. "If there are beasts living in Hydra, perhaps Hydra's not as hostile as it once was--or maybe these are a good line of creature. Either bears investigating."

Vargas grunted, and turned--it would remain available, and despite Desert Rose's misgivings on having said that, it certainly pacified the Overseer.

"Good. Thank you for your report. I have much to think on," he added, and--in a spiderlike lurch of limbs--slipped from Tunnel P entirely.