It started panting again, quills puffing out as much as possible - it was hot, basically cooking inside of its own shell even from that short blast. It was the residual heat and smolder of everything near it, flames that'd caught and burnt out on top of its carapace.

Even if it hadn't been formally dismissed, Alpha hauled itself to its feet with an audible groan; damn near dragging itself to the nearest pool of water to flop down pitifully in it, gills drinking up the oxygen in its coppery suspension on one side, jaws still heaving breaths.

Stone-magic tried again, bumbling out a little more confidently without as many twitchy movements and pressure-testing. A gentle, refreshing cool wove out, magicka working slowly at the more recently torched parts of its body: the chest and upper shoulders.

@Vargas

"You have a choice, dragon, you may be cooperative with us, or the beasts in this cave stronger than you will hunt you. Root you out while you sleep. Destroy your nests. I have no desire to do that!" Vargas informed it. He paused, struggling to hold the spell over the dragon, to keep him grounded, to keep his muscles tight to the ground. It was difficult going, as the magic was not his strong point--magic in general wasn't, either. It slipped, though--and Vargas made a single, bounding leap, aiming to land atop Dread's neck, to twist his claws in at the beast's throat--to make a point, perhaps.

"What I PREFER is that we are allies, yes? And then we will not fight at all."

He felt claws reach scale, and looked up at Alpha, briefly, checking on it. It was cooling its wounds, at least; and that was good. Perhaps it wouldn't die--and if it returned to its stone, so much the better. It had performed well.

Dread was no longer listening.

He knew that Vargas had leapt at him, and he knew that there were two of them (if injured) and one of him. He struggled half-up, the Overseer clinging to his neck, and felt the claws digging in at his throat.

The dragon roared in protest, magicka again flaring with it--to Vargas, this time, all fear and pain and rage bundled into one mind-bending bellow. "GET. OFF. IF I WAS GOING TO KILL YOU I WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU. I CAN STILL KILL YOU," he added, eyes flaring with fire.

He took a couple quick wing-walk steps forward, even as Vargas hastily retreated. "YOU CAN'T HAVE MY STONE. YOU CAN'T HAVE ANYTHING. STAY AWAY FROM US. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" he roared. "DO YOU AGREE?"

Vargas was halfway across the floor when he realized that the magic flaring in his mind wasn't... real. It was just illusory, and he turned, anger flickering briefly in him.

"You will do what your Overseer demands," Vargas answered bluntly. The dragon was still pulling himself up, and so Vargas launched forward, aiming a strike at Dread's snout with one six-thumbed fist, all his weight behind it.

He felt it connect, felt the dragon rock back, hopefully dazed. "Do you not understand, dragon, that the caves are full of Masters? If you make an enemy of me, you make an enemy of them," which was not at ALL true, but it was a useful lie for him to tell. "But you may take your family! Go back to your cave, and be in peace, so long as you agree to do your part, when the time comes."

The strike was hard, sending his head rocking back; it didn't hurt as much as the damn stone had, thrown by Alpha, but it still hurt.

Dread blinked, and sneezed.

He then looked back, fixing ember eyes in a suddenly cold stare on Vargas, feeling rage fuel through him; and he rocked back, leaping up, and aimed a blast of flame at the Overseer's face. The intent was to give himself space, to take flight again, and he rose up higher in the air.

"NO," he answered, though he couldn't... entirely remember what the Overseer had actually been saying. "I WILL EAT YOU TOO. I WILL--TAKE THIS CAVE." (And he'd nearly threatened to eat this cave, too, which would have been slightly embarrassing.) "LEAVE US ALONE, OR I WILL BURN YOU BOTH."

The fire came hot--as fire tended to--and Vargas snapped his head back, raising a forearm to shield himself, skittering backward on spiderlike limbs. He winced, grimacing as the heat boiled over him--...

His mind, as his skin briefly bubbled and popped here and there, blistering, raced over the future. He could steal the dragon's stone, but that'd mean killing Dread. He needed control over him, somehow. As with Raheerah. Too uncontrolled, too unpredictable without. And if he somehow took the dragon's stone without it noticing--knocked it out, for example? If Dread uncovered the truth, Vargas would have what was apparently an entire angry dragon family after him, and would the Masters help him with that..? Even if they did, it would reflect terribly on him which was exactly what he did not want right now.

It was a lose-lose. If he killed the dragon, that was very bad. If it continued to defy him, that was very bad. He winced up--Dread hadn't left yet, and he tried again to snag his magicka into the dragon's circulatory system. If he could drop him, perhaps he could simply beat the shit out of him--he had to be tired by now, surely?--and force him through pure domination to obey.

Dread stared down, watching Vargas do... nothing. Perhaps he'd taken the wisdom of the dragon's viewpoint to heart, then. His children were his family; he would not tolerate a thread to-...

Ember eyes narrowed as the faintest caress of failed magicka tried to grip his muscles again. He knew that feeling, already, and he snarled a protest. He would leave; there was no point in staying here, not with Alpha potentially recovering, and with Vargas displaying this strange new magic. Alpha had done something to him, too, at range--he was pretty sure his lightheadedness had been the creature's doing--and it was finally dawning on the dragon that fighting the two of them alone was probably not very wise.

But he'd leave Vargas with something to think about. He turned, banking, flapping up and higher toward Tunnel K--and then angled, sweeping back around, dropping lower and snapping neck low, and jaws open.

A torrent of flames swept out, engulfing Vargas and the area entirely around him, making this final emphatic point. Wings beat once, taking him higher, up and over and past, and he turned and circled back around. This time, what he yelled was not a screech but a bass bellow, no petty words, just a declaration:"THESE ARE MY CAVES."

And with a beat of his wings, he was gone, sweeping out over the bones and out of sight.

Which was all very dramatic, unless you knew that he had to land and waddle, wings-first, all the way back through Tunnel K.

exit Dread

He grimaced as the flames swept toward him, and they were hot and they were powerful, this time, a torrent. He felt the heat boil up over him, but he leapt, agile as always--the former burns slowing him, some, but he was able at least to avoid the worst of it.

He looked up, squinting against the fading light, but Dread was flapping away.

Vargas grimaced and turned, padding over to flop into the water beside Alpha.

"You did well," he informed it--and then corrected his blanket statement, closing all six eyes as he felt the water begin to soothe his wounds. It hurt. He hated that. "Rather, you did well just now. In angering their entire clan, perhaps not. But we'll need to put a stop to them," he added. "We need their stones, and we need to put them in line, somehow."

How, he wasn't yet quite sure, but they'd figure something out.

"You did something to him, when he was in the air. What was it?" Vargas asked, glancing sidelong at Orthoclase-Alpha, curiosity in his tone.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

[Origin Cave]

Character: Dread Age: +26 (26 Cycles) Magic Level: +5 (Master) ROUND 1 Attempt: +10 Penalties: -0 ROUND 2 Attempt: +5 Penalties: -0 ROUND 3 Attempt: +6 Penalties: -0 ROUND 4 Attempt: +9 Penalties: -0 ROUND 5 Attempt: +11 Penalties: -0 Total: 72

Character: Orthoclase-Alpha Age: +4 (4 Cycles) Magic Level: +3 (Brawler) ROUND 1 Attempt: +18 Penalties: -0 ROUND 2 Attempt: +2 Penalties: -0 ROUND 3 Attempt: +11 Penalties: -0 ROUND 4 Attempt: +19 Penalties: -0 ROUND 5 Attempt: +2 Penalties: -0 Total: 59

WINNER: Dread

@Dread @Orthoclase-Alpha
[judges yet another one of my own fights] - navy

Conflict raged on, the Overseer's booming voice waging war against Dread's shrieking complaints and crackling flames.

In this little pool of water, Alpha was quietly grateful for the cool of water flowing through its gills on one side, a bit like liquid coolant. Once or twice, it gulped down some, huffing as some slipped into its airbound lungs. All the while, magic did its work, unbidden but not unwelcomed. Some of the festering purple beneath its shell had cooled enough, the swelling reduced to just a faint hint of lavender through chitin.

Another pulse in a hitching breath, and the spell broke. Going haywire, it sent a nasty rush of heat through its side, ripping a pained groan from deep in the orthoclase's throat. Something gave and it twisted to see what; a good part of its upper left side'd gone for a clean break in the exoskeleton, angry pulsating flesh swelling out and leaking faintly-glowing pus.

Alpha hissed softly as it adjusted, trying to ease that side into the water - and perhaps hide that mistake from its Overseer as his footsteps finally approached. It went still at the sound, tensing, staring straight ahead except for kicked-dog glances at him, expecting further punishment -

- not... praise.

It twisted its neck to look at Vargas, eyes slightly glassy with pain. "I d-" Alpha paused, an agonizing cough wracking its throat, "I didn't know there was more than one." A mistake on its part. "They must be breeding." Blinking slowly, exhaling harshly through another pang, the orthoclase shifted to tack on, "there was a small one with them, it couldn't fly well." Like a Lesser bird fresh out of the chrysalis.

Alpha didn't think about the opportunity there.

"You did something to him, when he was in the air. What was it?"

If it could furrow its brows, it would've. Instead, it squinted and gave a stiff shrug, "I don't know what I did. I could try it again?" Not without permission, and certainly not on its Overseer - right?

@Vargas