This is the new thread for Chaos Forge group creation. This thread takes place loosely after this thread. i will be vague about what happened there but whatever did, it's obviously sorted out by now--also i'm sorry it's another long vargas speech but hopefully we can get group formation out quickly this way!

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas turned, a sweeping movement taking him to stare over those before him. Six toxic eyes darted among the faces. And for a moment, he did not care who was listening: Totum, Astraea; the Creator himself. Vargas had a world of opportunity opening before him, and he knew just what he wanted to say.

"Those of you who will return as Sentinels to the Tunnel, listen first to what I have to say. I want everyone here to know who we are, and what we will be doing here!" Long strides swept him past them--then around again, the other way, pacing like a drill sergeant as he inspected each of them in turn. Were the children old enough, yet, to understand his words-? He hoped so. They were to be, these words, important.

"This place, this Black Spire, is the very form of our Creator's power: chaos in physical form! This is its womb, its forge, where we will shape this magic into something great." His voice, now, held conviction. "I will remind you now of WHY. For what reason we create. What we will be fighting for!"

Vargas paused, his expression intent, long legs carrying him back in powerful strides the other way. Pacing. Staring. This was a speech--inspirational or otherwise was not yet clear--but it was to be a speech. "SURVIVAL. Mine. Yours. THEIRS," he went on, and one arm swept out to indicate the exit to Pegasus, and everything that lay beyond. "All of this now rests in OUR hands."

"There has never, in all this cave's history, been a Master in my position. A chance of this kind. You are all fortunate: you are at a crossroads in what will become a legend!" Pace. Step. Faster, now, tail sweeping along behind him in a curve. "Before, it was meetings, and courts, and cooperation. Now, for the first time, it is ONLY us! It is our choices that will shape this nest in the cycles to come, our work that will define how it operates! We have a chance, in this freedom, like none other. I remind you of the reward I asked of Lord Dhracia: security. You will answer to me, and only to me. You will only be punished for your own mistakes. You will be rewarded for your successes! This will be a working system, and not a tyranny! We will progress!"

He paused, staring, and turned again. "What will be expected of you is this: to protect and to OWN this nest. We will need scouts, and your work will be imperative: this forge of Chaos--this Chaos Forge--must always know exactly what is happening, everywhere throughout this cave. Not to interfere, not to control--but we must be aware of it at all times. No rebellion, no foolish thing that might incur the Creator's wrath, must catch us by surprise! We must know where potential lies, not only for action but for our creations; and we must be prepared for all eventualities. Through this we will have our control, and take away the element of surprise from those who might do us harm, deliberately or out of foolishness; and thus ensure our survival."

"We will need guards: to protect the Black Spire, to defend our work, to enforce the guardianship of our creations. To keep us functioning; to keep our spies and scouts and new creations safe. To ensure that our work is uninterrupted. To stop any attempts at stopping us, which would wind up with even our attackers dead; it is for the good of all in this nest that we remain undisturbed! You who would protect this place, you who would protect our work, this Black Spire, this Chaos Forge and all its children--you are ALL that stands between this cave and its inhabitants, and its destruction."

Pace. Turn. Stride. His flanks were heaving with effort--the travel, Draco, now his speech, so full of fire. His voice had risen to a suppressed roar.

"What will be rewarded to you? SURVIVAL. Freedom, for those who wish it," and there was a stern nod Hemlocke's way; "Authority to those who want it. Responsibilities for those who desire it. If you perform well, ASK for what you wish for. Those who work together in this, and do so well, may design their own futures, through me."

Pace. Step. Turn.

"And what will we aim for? Better creations--stronger, faster, more unique and useful than anything this nest has yet produced. Bring me your ideas, and volunteers with strength in them; we will make destroyers and monsters to raze armies." As she had commanded. "What monsters we send out ensure our own survival, and that of all in these caves, and so what we create will be spectacular. But I do not want you provoking those in the caves--do not wander and kill needlessly, do not obliterate the creatures already here. We are out to ensure this cave's survival, regardless of what its rabble thinks--not to provoke it into rebellion. But that is not to say that you ought to tolerate disrespect. We must maintain our authority, here. The balance between coexistence and this authority may be precarious: treat it as such."

Pace. Turn, pause.

"If you find yourself in difficulties. If you face a puzzle, or a problem. Come to me. ASK. Ask one another. We are in this together and I will not be your tyrant. I am here to guide our work, to shape it, not to crush dissenters in an iron fist. That was a mistake of this cave and one I've no need to repeat. I will ensure smooth operation where I can and so should you. If there are conflicts between you: the old way was to solve it with violence, at times, but that was ever frowned upon when it damaged that very same operation. If two of my best guards fight, and one kills the other, then perhaps the old Masters might say that this second guard did not deserve to live. And maybe that is so! BUT THEN I HAVE ALSO LOST A GUARD. So you may do this... but if it damages our efficiency I WILL BE DISPLEASED. Instead, you may come to me with disagreements, and I will mediate."

He paused, then. His speech was nearly over. He faced them, and stood as high upright as he could go while remaining on all four legs: head held high, staring down at them. He knew them, now. He had forged them into a working unit as best he had could, although--"Thus far we have only been scattered individuals, struggling to scrape ourselves into a coherent form for future work. Now we ARE that form. We are the Chaos Forge: and we will churn this dead nest into something worth being proud of. Because it is already WORTH FIGHTING FOR."

A grin, and a stare: "And now I will HEAR YOU. If you hold thoughts to share--if you hold ideas for our future, or questions to ask--speak now!" he boomed.

It was time to begin.

@Doctor (Nidhogg) @V-Chaos-Two (Kethri) @Orthoclase-Alpha (Hemlocke, Selenite) @Garnet-Delta (V-Zoisite-One) @Garnet-Epsilon (feel free to join in 'secret' or not!) @V-Labradorite-One @Ruby-Beta @Khavur

There it was. The reason Chaos-Two described Vargas as a rock. Firm, stoic, determined. He did not break or bend under pressure- no. He forged himself into something better, each and every time. This determination was the sun, and Chaos-Two had never seen Vargas radiate such heat, such warmth, such emotion! It was incredible, and in turn, the calf felt confident.

They stepped forward and looked up at Vargas the moment they were granted such permission, their green eyes big and wide and full of admiration and determination. They were determined to do whatever it was that their father- creator asked of them. They would be a protector- of this nest, of the Spire, of the ones who stood next to them, observing Master Vargas in his glory.

"I don't have much to say," they said, their voice not as booming as the Leviathan's was, but the emotion was there, the determination to make change in these caves, despite them knowing little about that. But that too, would change.

"I... I think-", no, they knew, "-that inspiration should be taken from things that aren't... aren't large and imposing, like yourself, or like Khavur. Yes, you are powerful and can turn the tides of a battle just by stepping in, but if we are to have scouts and if we are to know things from the Gembound of these caves, designs riddled with sharp claws and quills will only make them... fearful. Perhaps... perhaps making designs made to be deceiving, like Hemlock, or Garnet-Delta, or Garnet-Epsilon, could be useful too. With no offense meant, they are easier to trust by appearance alone, and if creations like that are trained to be... kind while maintaining loyalty to the Chaos Forge, they could easily slip into the ranks of the groups and even spy upon the lone Gembound that wander."

Chaos-Two only hoped they weren't being too ambitious, but talking with Khavur in the meadow had granted them insight.

"A butterfly can easily alight upon the hand of even the most imposing creature, sir," they said, "For a butterfly is harmless, but if you give it ears, that butterfly can listen and hear much more than a creature made to be feared."

They breathed out as they finished, and bit their lip, "I have... I have a request, too. It is selfish, but... both of my siblings have names, yet I only have a designation. Despite Chaos-One technically only having theirs because of disobedience, I still yearn for the opportunity to grant myself a title other than a number and a word. If I prove myself and if I can prove that I am worthy to have a name, may I choose one?"

"Please?",, they almost said, but they were already afraid they were being ambitious and stepping out of line. Vargas did say he would hear them, however. Hopefully Vargas did listen, and consider, possibly even accept. They just hoped that Vargas would just deny, rather than punish. They just wanted to be worthy. To be respected.

They hoped the Leviathan considered.

The Zoisite listened attentively, doing their best to understand the huge concepts thrown forward, despite not having a breadth of knowledge and experience to fully grasp at the gravity of the situation. What they came to understand was that this was a speech meant to rouse and inspire the others-- and also, that it was a goodbye, for those who would return back to the tunnel where Zoisite had hatched.

... six golden eyes peered this way and that, trying to see who would be leaving. They hoped, foolishly, that no one would go. They were a family... And Zoisite would miss them. (They still missed Bloodstone.) They turned their head toward m-- Overseer, jaws parting and then closing.

V-Chaos-Two was the first to speak, which surprised the young grub. They craned their head, and watched as they made suggestions, speaking first of what they should take inspiration from. They spoke of deception, through innocent and harmless-seeming means. The mention of quills and claws being intimidating made Zoisite's own spines rattle, and they dug their talons into the very earth that seemed to breathe under them.

But, when V-Chaos-Two spoke of their request, that same nervous, shifting gaze honed in once more on the hunched calf. They spoke bravely, and immediately the Zoisite realized this was important. It was the same question, and thoughts, that the grub had themself, though they didn't speak up. Now, they didn't think they could without undermining the very rules and traditions set upon them, but...

What they could do, was support V-Chaos-Two. As they rattled on, the violet-grub stepped forward, pincers clacking together as they moved up to V-Chaos-Two's side, and raised their head to stare around at the rest of them. "Give them the chance. They've put a lot of thought into this," Zoisite said, stiff as a board, "Chaos-Two won't let you down." Did the grub have to step in? Would it weaken their argument...? Maybe, but... The support, unwavering, they had to hope it would give Master Vargas a second thought if he planned on brushing the plea aside.

It was important to Chaos-Two, so it was important to Zoisite.

He listened.

Or, at least, he tried.

But the speech was just so... long, and so many words, and Orthoclase-Alpha's tail moved and that was enough to set the half-grown serpent prowling, eyes wide with fascination. A scurry, a skitter, as before, as if he hoped that nobody would notice despite the crowd all around him; and then a leap, an attempt at a bite on the end of Alpha's tail. Not a little nip, either, but a jaws-deep slam-closed beartrap grab-and-hold.

Why? Because it had moved. It didn't even occur to the beast that the tail was not a prey animal. That it was, in fact, a part of the monstrously large Overseer hulking just before it.

If ever there were a force of chaos, Nidhogg was it; unfortunately, he was also an idiot, and had just run out of the luck of being unlucky with his random attacks.

When the lecture had begun, the impassioned speech, Khavur had at first been determined to listen.

At first. At first, the key details were made into bullet (points) in its head:
. The Black Spire was a manifestation of Chaos, their ultimate leader and ultimate goal. They would create here.
. They were in this to save everything, everyone, every lesson Khavur had ever craved in this cave. Pegasus... Another promise.

A few ideas in, Khavur was still doing pretty well! In fact, far better than well. It was as excited as anybody, feeling a power coursing through the air they all breathed. A power it wanted in on. So many promises waited on bated breath, held in and swallowed, all to be, in due time, CONSUMED. Khavur wanted her his its meal.

Continuing on, however, things rapidly became harder:
. This is a historical event. Before now, the way this was done was different, but it was u̶̡̧̪̟͗͌̅̃̈́͂͠͝p̷̺̗̋͑͌̀̿͑́̽̅ ̷̬̼̜̊̔̓͊͊́̅̕̚͘t̷̨͈̜͎͈͚͗̏̓̀̕͝o̶̻̻͖̝̔̌̉̒͆̓ ̸̲̦̖͍̬̺̗́̂͑̐͐̃̏̋̈́͜͜@̵̡̧͔̗͓̗́̈́̉̋̕̚$̶̡̥̩̞͍̜̬͑̋͝*̶̢̳͔̍͌͒͘....
. Master Vargas had asked Lord Dhracia for security so thą̸̧̛̣̝͔͇̲͙͗͋̂͐̋͑̽͑͘͝t̴͎͓͕̗͖̫̲̠̐ ̸͙̼͍̓t̸̪͉͐͗̊̓̐̔̐̕͜ͅḧ̴̳͉̝̳͚͖̣́͘è̵̡̨̲̯̘̠̟̦̞̜̹̱̬́͌̀̐̄̄̚͠ỳ̶̩̗̼̭̩͙̫̏̽̾̔̓̂͂̍̅̏̕͝ ̶̢͓͆̒̿̑͊́̿̅̅͘č̵̡͇̬͍̞̥̝͕͙̖̀̌͊͂̀̾̒̂̾̑̚̚͝͝ơ̷̡͈͖̱͚̼̯̝̙̯͍̈́̾̇͛̅̕͠u̵̞̣̔̂̃́̓͝ļ̴̛̦̫̥̃̇̽͋̿̉̂̆̌̈́̾̾̕%̶̢̛̖̝̰̣̭̪̠̀̊̍͜ ̵̛̫̞̞̓̔̾͌̾͋͊̓̅̽͘%̷̢̢̻̜̟̞̘̥͚̟̬̫͕̙̐́̈́͘͠#̶̪̟̩̺̿͂̈́̈́͑͛̍̆͆͌͜͝*̸̡̛̖̞̳̺̉̀$̴̨̛̠͎̗͈̩̗̼̮̘̻̖̿̏̉͗͂̇̊̿̈́̕(̶̡̬̬̠̒̃͑̆́̄̄̊͌̀͗̑̃͝͝ ̷͖̦̹̙͓͆͑̂͒̄̚^̷̧͉̥̫̘̠̊̀̈́́͐̿͋̅̔͝*̵̡͔̱̻̳̲̳̲̼̄̎@̶̨̟̯̗̻̼̒̌̊̄̋̂͌͐̆̕)̷̢̛̺͕̜̣̬̠͕̜͔̬͙̀̌͆̀̃͒̊̕#̸̡̠̜͎͔͕͉̟̬͉̺͗́̋̐̀̈́͂̋̏́̅̚͜%̶̨̝͚̗͕͚̙̰͓̦͚̺̦̄̎̀̈́̀͜͝͝*̶̧̛̝̱̮͙̬̖̠͎̅̔̊̒̔̆̊̓͆̃$̷̧̨̛̬̗̟̗̺̥̖̝͒̌̄̈̅̽̄̂̆͊̆̒̈́̚ͅ!̶̡̤̘̼͇͋͗̐̽͐̊͂....
. They were going to need scç̸̪͕̱̼̠̪̟̹̯͇͚͖̦̀̍̕͜ò̶̧̯̠͕̝̣̯̹̖̣̀̿̓̚͠u̵̗͚̳͗͒̾̇̌͆͐͊̀̈̚͝͠t̴̢̛͉̹̳̮̗̝̥͎̜̽͋̀̋̈́̎̽̽̋̇̉̀̚̕ͅͅs̶̡̛̟̻̥̩͕̼͖̳̥̩̥̦̺̉̅͜͠ ̵̘̬͇̼̙͕̺͖͙̗͈̜̥͕͎͆͑͛̾͒͆͊͒̾͗̚̕̚̕ẗ̸̖͍̘̙̳̮͔́͊͐̍̑̀̄̿̏͛̽͊̚ö̴̞́̔̔̚͜ͅ ̴̺̜̔̽͊k̶̛̖̞̦̪̜̩̰̱͎̻̓̓̇̐̉͑̚͘̚̕͝ņ̴͖͙͖̜͖͉̩̳̙͓͒͒́ͅͅ*̵̢̥̲͈̞̳̫̤̠̖̄͆̿͌̐̓̀%̴̨̨̬̤͕̘̠͙̻̮͈͙̅̄̅̈̅͑̇̌͂̚ ̸̨̨͓̜̭͚̥̟̹̮͓͇͚͔̫̏͗́̐͝)̸͉̗̫̩̗̓@̴̬͙͔̭̗͎̬̻͐)̴̛̱͉̞̭̟͍̻̌̎̑̓̐͘̕!̵̣͎̥̜̖̗͈̻̮͍̲̰̈ͅ ̴̼̝̗̰̜̹͍̖̌̾̃̽̒͋̂̀͛̾̿̕͝%̵̧̥͑͊̈́͑̎̽̅͌̂́́̽̓̽͝#̸̯͉̈́̉̑̂̊͌͆̎͗͒̅̏͝*̷̢̡͉͎̳͉͓̠̺̆̊(̷̨̡̛̱̹̖͇̠̜̣̮̣̯̲̣̇̅͗͑̒̂̍͋̓̈@̷̛̻̗̠̌͂̑̿̍̃̂͐̒͐̂̈́̕͝)̷̨̞̪̦̪̲͙̖̪̩͉͉̔̌̀́͂̂͒͌̃́̉̐̐͗̒!̴̞̝̲̣̬̟̏̄͝!̶̹̞̳̘̙̤̗̮̲̰͍̤̐͊͑̕͝ͅͅ$̶̨̬̱͖̜͎̙͎̌̏̓̑̃̓̒͘^̷̡̤̭̮̺͉͕̘̝̙̠̙̉̉̒̀̋̑̚͠&̴̞̗̞̥̤̽̌̆̊̇͝ ̴̧̥̭͚͖̥͙͔͎̻͈̬͔͇̭̽̔͆̐͆̏͒(̵̨̞͙̖͇̣͗%̶̢̡̢͓͉̝͙̥̝̟̥͔̇̀̅͛̃̂̀̏̚ͅ#̷̜̹͍̭͈͍̳̺̱̓̔͑͗̈́͌̐̒̅́͆͘͜͜)̷̧̥͉̹̞̂́͆̎̉̌̇̉͠͝@̷̡̡̡̜̼̦̱̩̱͋̑̏*̸̦̜͕͉̮̇̽̌͋͋̏͊͘͜%̴̼̥̲̺͍̳̿͒̃͊͛͌̾́̈́̀͗ͅ(̶̢͚̳̙͙̝̖͇̝̍͜ͅ!̶̛̬͚͍͓̻͒̑̏͐͌̽̋̂̅̍̎)̷̛̝̬̦̥̲̫̣̜̥͓͓̲̊̇̀͆̈́̄̉̔͒́̚͘͝_̵̡̨͉͈͈͍̳̱̫̠̄̎͗̿̅̽͂̉͑̈̃̕ͅ(̶̟̊̆̚͠!̵̧̲̭̩͓̮̮̩͓̀̈̓̅̑̾͊͆͋̄̓͗ %̶͎̖̫̈́͛͛̀͛͌#̸̡̙͇̦̪͈͙̥̺̟̗̠̥̣́̀͆̅̐̒̐̒͑̅̿̚̕͝!̴̧͕̫̟̗̙̯̳̖̳̹̲̦̇͒͐̕͜^̵̘̩͈̗̠̯̙̬̘̦̳͔̪̈̈́#̴̛͎̗̭̮̳̫̥͖̳̜͉̄̐̏̏̐̋̂̍͋̀ͅ$̶͕̫̞̬͍̗̚&̶̢̡͖̺͕̪̯̲̠̙̘͈͂̈́̏̌̇͒͆̿̏̒̚̕ͅ*̴̧̞̘̖̪͈͕͙̼͈̓͂̓́̽͗̚͝(̷̨̨̹͙̺̻͇̺͚̠̩͋̈́̈̉͊͊̓͋)̸͕͈̟̦͓̯͖̰̫̼̣́̍͒̾̀̚̕͜͝!̷̞̞͍̩͔͓̉͛̂̌̒̐̕͝$̵͙͉̹̯̉͛̈́̇̾́͆͒̊͐̅̎͘*̵̢̜̙͖̙͈̣̥͔͕̦͖͍̌̆̚^̵̨̨̢̮͇͚̺͍̤͍̟͆͑̎̕͜͝&̶̥͎̘̞͚̯̤̐͒́&̴͔̯̹̠̹̺͉̯̹͕̫͈̣̤̓́̓͂͊̇̔͝@̸̢̢̛̟̦͈͚̫͓̝̜͚̾̀̽̿̂̓̐̏͛̎̀͊͜ͅ*̴̧̹̼̱̱̬̬̪͖̈́̀̓͂͋͊͗͝͝*̸̡̙͙̖̮̼̦̗͚͙̱͚̳̣̇͋͊̆͗̏̓̈́ͅ(̴̢̛̼̯̤͇̝̰̞̼̘̬͔̱̥̐̈́̓̓͂̊̀̓̈́̈̾̎́^̷͕̳͑̒͒̈́̏̉̈̐̀͂͋̚(̴̤̰̰̥̬̈̾_̴̧̨̫̰̹̤͕̹̘̣̞̟̝͎͖̿͛̊̑͠͝+̴̹̣̊̈́̂̒́̽̏͌̋̒̕͝͝_̴̨̧̗̭̪̹͉͋̈́́̈̍͐̓̓̊̋̾̽&̶͔̙̻̝͛̃̓̓̈́̈́͗̏̂́͑@̷̧̢̬͍͍̜̹̩̪͌͊̓̎̆̽ͅ....
. !̵̲̝̺͚̥̖̞̜͔͍͎̙̯͉̜̆͗̍̊̽͛̃͠͠&̷̛̛̞̲͙̥̤̮͍̞̘̜̘̾̆͌̊̎̀̀͑̍͝͠͝%̶̞͍̲̩̟̎̍(̸̢̡͎̝͙̦̟̩̼̙̳̲̍̐̇͑͐̎͊̆͜͜)̶̧̧̼̖̩̞̩͉̦̞̗͖̉̇̔̑͜#̴̛͔̠̫̦̺̠̼͔̣͂̈̊̃͘̕͝&̵̣̙̮̂͊̓̆͊́̒̄^̶̧͙̞̦̞͚̟͇͇̺͈̬͕̬̉̐̌̃̊͛̾̅̌̐͜͝)̶̧̨̛̳̟̠̼̟̭̜̳̀̓͂̐̑̎͊͋̾̆(̷͈̳̗̝̦̬̭̫̼͋̑̅͒̂͜@̴̙̱͉̝̦̺̜̭̀̋*̸̨͔̯́̉͆́͑́͌͋̎̒͘^̴͙̝̘͒̂̍́̈́̌̇̽̅̕͝)̴̡̢̲̝̻͖̥̘̥͙͉̞͎̉͂̂̏͛̎̈͋̑̍̋͆͘_̵̯̥͚̪̩̮̖́̓̂͋͐̀̿͆͒̕͝͝*̶̢̳͉̳̠̖͖̠̃̿̂̅̇̀͊̂͒͐̚͠#̵̨̻̣͕͚͔̘͕͎͔̯̎͌͆͐̿̄̓̚͜@̷̻̩̹̜̗͎̥̀_̷̭͚̮̘̀͠*̷̲͔̮̍̍̏̋̎́͂͘͘͠_̶̨̨̧̳̫͖̤̮͚̱̊͑̋͊͑(̷̨̢̞̱̮̰̬̘̌̈́̀̆̾̈́̈́̃͘͝_̵̛̫̫͉̝̬̤̈́̈́̓̀̈̅̊͋̌̆͘)̷̢̮̞͚̣̞͕͖͔̈́̐ͅ&̶̨̢̜̞̝̦̲̫̤̼͉̘̘̎̍̾͒͋̋͒͒͊͑͛̈́̕̚̕(̸̢̧̤̳̤̹͕͍̺͕̓͑̃̄̀̀̿͘_̶̧̘̇̀͛͗̽̐̓̀͠͠)̶̡̪̘̰͔̦̺̠̱̳̰͔̖͐̀̈́̉͛̒̇͂̀͒̔͝@̶͍̭̼̝̣̯̑͐̓̅̐̍̚̚̚(̵̰͗̈͛̓͛́̉́̐͛̑͘͘̚͝*̵̨̛̛̜̎͆͑̊̐̄̀̽̽͋͝͝͝$̶̨̬̣͎̳̙͊̊̒́̈́̽͊̌̇̓͆́̚͠*̷̞̣̥̥̖̮̫̟͈̯͉̗͈͔̇̀̋͋͛̊̈͆͑́͐̿̇̕^̸̤̏̏̃͝)̵̟̼̮̣͔̥̘͎͖̽̿̒͛̽̿͌̄̐͐̈́̈̕͜͠͠(̶͕͒͑̿̏́͛̐̈́*̴͚̤̺̹̮̅ͅ%̵̢̨͓̻͕̭̯̥́#̸̢̼̻̝͉̯̺̼͔͉̗̱͎̀͛̉̀͛&̶̨̬͇͚͚̮͍̼̞̅̓̆̅̂͛̂͌͊̓͘͘͝͠*̷̮͉̥̹͇̟̽͐͗̆͌͐̚(̵̢̜̤̗̪̰̹̥͍͆́̓͒̒̔̕$̷̢̧͉͓͙̰̹̹͓̠̎̎͂͂̓̓̅͒͌̌͊̌͌^̸̛̝͌̆͘͘͝!̵̦̦͍̟̻͉̭̤̳͔͇͈̒̂̀ͅ enforce the guardianship of our creations @̴̝͇̤̘̹́̌͑͑̏̍̀̐̍͒͠͝&̷̨͍̟͕̲̥̮͍̯̙̐͐͒͋̑*̷̬̤̫̻̝͕̝̉͑́͑͑̐́̆̀͠^̶̡̗̗̠̦͕̥̫͍͇̦̝̙͆̔̃̀̊ͅ&̶̧̟̻̪̠̗̖̺̠͓̣̲̈́́̒̃̈̄̿̕͠*̶̤̖̔̅͝^̸͍̮̬̗̙̻̫̖̺̰̭̓͆̒̌̔͒̌̍̽̚͘͘̚$̸̧̗̮͚̪͚̠͚͚̓̅ͅ*̴̛͍͉͙̞́̓͑̾̚(̶̬̱̫͉̐́̍͊͂́̂͘͝&̶̙͔̯̬̎͂%̶̬̟͕͎̯̦̖̰͗̓̀̒̆̓̅̀͋͝)̴̫̠̙͇̮̝͉̜͆͋̐̓̍̇͌͊̄̚ͅ#̷̧̱̙̰̿͋̅̅͆͐̽̿͂̏͘͜͝͝ͅ(̵̢͕̯͓͒̇̊̐̔̍̿͜*̶͈̈́̽̐̐͗͗̊̇̈́̿͝&̸̢̡̨͙͇̼͇̝̙̫̘̫̟̻̂̐̒̈́͐̒̓̍̈̕͜͠͠)̷̧̧̺͎͎̬̜͖̝̗̟̝̩͔͗͆̍(̵̛͍͍͙̥̂̀̀̾̀̈́̇̂̓̈́̓͝͝*̵̰͍̭̫͓̜̹͓̼͈̮̳̈́$̸̧̨̛͚͎̟͓̦̤̩̫̩̻͌̈́͋̔̎͗͑̊͘͝@̴̡͍̬̺̮͓̼̩̈́͌͗͋͑̌̾͐̈́̌̚͘̕)̶̧̰̝̼̗̗̪͍̮͚̈̾͛͂̽̈̄̐̓̏̃̽(̸̡̬̗̭͓̯̟̩̞̹̖̦̞̻̓͘ͅ*̴͚̹̣̣̆̀͌́̕̚͝&̶̡̭̪̲͇͕͈̻͕͔̀̆̃͋͗̃͊̎)̴̛̛̱̠̝̟̼̜̞̰̺̟͙̳̏͑͛̈͌̀̏͘(̷̡͙̗̣̞͇̗͚̹̭̮̥̳̿͗̌͂̆̈́̂͌̾̑̚͜$̵̨̫̣̫͂̄̚ͅ*̵̛̝̙̞̞͎̮̠̼̦̹̬̻̘̽͑̄̏̿̒^̵̧̟͈̖̲̤͍̠͑̽̂͜)̴͍͔̻̠̗̞͕̺̔͆̍̽̌̚͜͠(̶̧͍̰̝̰̠̳̣̪̲͚̺͖̺̹͑̀̾́̎̈́̽&̵̧͇̱͙̟͙͕̯̫͚̯̫͇͔͇́̽͑͌́̏͘͘$̶̧̮͕̻͍̯̻̳̤́̂̇̈͊̊̒̀̂͊͛̈̊͝͝!̵̤͉̩͙̝̣̥̠̭̈́̊̌̿̆̋͜͠͠*̸͈͚̆̒̋̒̈́̔̈́̊̚̕͝(̵̡̀͊͌̆͋͊̒̃͠͝^̴̢͎̘̜̑$̶̡̮̹̖̖̬̟̭̳͎̝͍̮́̽ͅ(̸̧͎͐͗͂̉̎̃*̸̮͚̙̱̤̬̬̄̓̉̈́̀́͒̚͠͝ͅͅ!̵̢̧̤̝̰̻͐̌....

And it went on. And on. And on. And, quite frankly, it was spiraling out of Khavur's control. Only a few more concepts stuck out to the beast, so it decided to save those and only those for now.

. Create chaos, create beasts. Protect and destroy what you must. Your reward: whatever you wish.
. Do not displease Master Vargas. There would be consequences if that were to happen. Grave ones.
. Communicate and work together. This faction is organized chaos. It does not function without one or the other.

Balance. No deification, no debasement. Balance.

The Eyes... 'My Eyes, the way I see things that are new...' spoke. For the promotion of balance. In a sense. They asked for... creation. A creation built for the purpose of chaos that was not like Khavur, or Vargas. Not a stone, or a tree, but a butterfly. It was genius.

And then, they asked for a name.

The zoisite sibling spoke up, vouched for The Eyes. Khavur was grateful for that, and The Eyes would likely be grateful as well. It offered, to the beast, some courage, to add to the testament. "Zoisite One is correct, Master Vargas. I will also vouch for Chaos Two." That name felt even more wrong now than it had before, somehow. "They have bright ideas and a right to have a name." Khavur's heads were both focused intensely on Vargas, but only the large-horned one was speaking. "As for myself, I am willing to create and protect as is necessary. Tell me what is needful and I will fit into the niche. The one thing I ask of you is that you teach me about the caves so that I can roam freely, and allow me to supervise my siblings on their endeavors outside of this room." Khavur wanted to be there for all of them. Khavur would swallow his her its promises whole. 'I will take you back there. We will be butterflies.'

There was more Khavur wished to ask Master Vargas. More that had yet to wait. If Master Vargas was willing to teach Khavur and set the beast free, then that waiting could be tolerated even longer.

The Overseer, for once, did not shrink beneath the Master's gaze—didn't purposefully straighten itself up. No, it'd already adopted its low, slinking gait, but with shoulders balled up high and quills prickling in anticipation. There was a pervasive sense of wrongness about this cave; even after they'd scoured it for danger. Orthoclase-Alpha had peered into some of the broken chrysalises towards the back wall—after giving the Black Spire a wide berth—and found nothing but mostly-decayed bones and a few arrowheads. Dead and stale for eons; and for what?

Vargas's instructions not to incite rebellion did not assure it. Not when it'd found itself contemplating that very thing cycles ago (and when every thought of it made it cower against itself.) Alpha had long-since burned out and stagnated, however unaware it was. Even now, its limbs ached and a vague headache pounded inside its skull. The past three cycles hadn't been kind to it. It was a wonder how it managed to coast on barely any sleep. (Delta's mistake burned in its mind and kept it from sleeping in the Warren more recently.)

But, the only true goal that Orthoclase-Alpha had was to survive. It perked up even hearing the word roared by its Master. Not even for a moment did it stop to consider what else it wanted, or how vague a goal survival was. All it knew was to march forward. Even still, it glanced down at Hemlocke, sitting there and almost preening beneath the passing glance. Alpha hadn't expected it to ask for freedom and to keep the Sentinels intact as their own group, without any supervision. They were still inclined to assist the Forge when it was asked of them, but—agency hadn't seemed close to first on the list of character traits it had.

A lot of Alpha had been built around that little creature, with Vargas picking up slack towards the end; whether the garnet knew that or not.

It felt conflicted about that, but was forced to glance over it to keep listening, right to the end. To listen as its ilk eagerly snapped up the chance to ask questions. Alpha set its jaw at all of their words. Teeth gnashed together. A strange sort of envy crawled beneath its armor. It couldn't describe it, but for the reader: how did these half-formed, sheltered spawn have things to say—and how did it not?

What's wrong with me? it thought balefully and—for unrelated reasons—gave a sharp, hissing bellow. Alpha whirled around, burning eyes fixating right on the serpent that'd had the misfortune of deciding he should put a vice-grip on its tail.

Nidhogg really should have learned by now that his Overseer was not as tolerant as his Master.

Already knowing that it didn't have the flexibility to twist all the way back there to reciprocate the damage, the kaiju instead lifted a hind leg to kick—hard—at his face. "Let go, Chaos-One," it growled.

kethri !

Kethri swooped down from above, landing clumsily and skidding a foot or so before limping towards the group, her feet rubbed all over with a lotion of a spiny plant she'd found perfect for treating burns. Too bad it ended up being her own self that she'd had to use it on first. Stupid magic. Stupid meat-wad.

The owl stood stiffly among the children and the others present, irritated at how they seemed to form together on the weakest of the group. She turned her head away and sneered, more grumpy than normal.

Stupid creature asking for a name.

She lifted a claw to flex, relishing the pain as it bloomed, her skin finally starting to heal with the poultices and remedies she was using on them. Soon her claws would grow out again and no longer be brittle from being baked, and her beautiful feathers would grow back over her feet, hiding the scarring. Everyone else would see her as flawless again.

Looking up again, she tuned back in, noting Chaos-One deciding to be a piece of work again. At least Chaos-Two was obedient, unlike the stupid animal. She would never voice her thoughts to Vargas, not in a million years, but that didn't mean she couldn't hope and pray she somehow influenced him into throwing the stupid thing into a river.

"Pardon me, Master Vargas," she purred, "I've been attempting to develop various medicinal remedies- poultices, pastes, things to treat burns that even work, as you can see."

She lifted a claw, almost hissing at revealing her own weakness, but the pride at making something that worked was more powerful than such a thing, "I wish to continue my work for the Chaos Forge. I've been thinking about collecting the venoms and poisons from lessers and plants and possibly developing things to use to silently dispose of enemies, leaving not a trace as to who killed them. We could dip our claws in them, to add a kick to our attacks. If an enemy doesn't die in a fight, then we can be assured that they will later."

Not that Chaos Forge was all about killing, but rebellion and the true evils of these caves had to be purged, certainly.