Vargas was right- Vander had been rather shocked at the forwardness of the new Master- they had both changed, altered directions- hell, he was joking with him. They had been the same for so long, but one change of environment, one pressure after the next shaped them with little to no time given to think about it.

Vander's eyes glanced away at the mention of Order. He had experienced it, tasted its clutches- was his brother still in it? He huffed, gently, gathering himself and putting that thought away. Vargas continued on, and so Vander continued to listen, turning back to watch Vargas conversationally.

With his shoulders in motion as he hovered, it was hard to shrug when Vargas echoed his own thoughts. He managed his best anyways, giving a very small nod- it was odd, yes, though he would never have voiced those thoughts himself. Perhaps, what they all needed, then, was a little freedom..?

Vargas set off, and Vander swept behind him, barely moving his wings except to angle himself away from the main attack. One of the hoppers had been spooked off into his direction, and blue eyes traced it- one would certainly not be food enough for the massive Master, but it would be something, anyways. Tucking in his wings, Vander shot down like a falcon, notched claws set out to capture and kill the poor thing.

With his claws outstretched, he missed the rabbit by a long shot, instead crashing into the grass and churning up dirt as he tumbled. 'Great.' Spitting out a clump of grass, Vander shook his head and returned to hovering by Vargas, hoping he wouldn't notice the grass stains as he dug for the hoppers. Besides, he was talking- perhaps he wouldn't notice Vander's mistake, after all.

"I do not intend on failing, Master Vargas," he started with, with a rather arrogant choice of words. His tone and postured offered nothing but a professional interest, head leveled with Vargas's as he spoke. "After all, if this nest falls, I'm certain I wouldn't survive along with it." He shook his head- the reward for being capable of remaining alive for the indefinite future was reward enough for him.

"I would need to know who the tests are for, I believe. See what they require- but shaped individually, not made for a whole. Unless, they would need training in teamwork- but, that is a consideration for when I know who would need the training?" As he hovered, one paw came up to wipe at his face, rubbing away the green dye of fresh grass. He blinked down to his stained claws for a moment, before wiping them out in his mane- he'd wash this off later. "It may be more effective to approach them that way, at least. But as for Draco? As for the creatures to work with? I am willing to do anything for this nest, and I am not so easily intimidated by children, no matter the size."

He was, his mind supplied, but he snuffed that thought out fast. While they may have the advantage of size, Vander had the advantage of knowledge. Draconua came forth in his mind once more, and he flicked an ear in thought, thinking of how he could feasibly stay out of range and still attempt to teach. However, how much would she take in, if she weren't challenged herself?

Perhaps he needed to train his magic.

In any case, Draco was not far from the Refuge, anyways- he could return there if this didn't work out, and they would be none the wiser. "I will join you. As Desert Rose, or Vander, however you would have me. And I will test the forged creations, not for reward or safety- but for the nest." His head dipped in a bow as well as it could with him still flying, but the attempted body language was clear enough. It came back to the nest- if this went down, his family would perish, everything he'd grown to know and love, his own life- it would have all been for waste.

Vander was not one for waste.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

He heard the thump and scuffle, but when he glanced up--briefly--he had missed the actual fall. He went back to digging, thrusting one spined arm as deep as it would go--but the spines themselves displayed their main drawback, now, stopping his arm only a few feet into the rabbit-hole.

His mind, though, was on Desert Rose--on its words, its seemingly dutiful nature. The decision it made, so swiftly--and the way it turned its phrases--seemed almost too perfect, so that he found himself wondering if it were trying to spy for someone else (Order? another Master?), or some sort of other trick. But it had never shown much sign of rebellion, and so for now, he chose to accept its words at face value.

"I do not expect you to fail! Very well, then. Join us in Draco when you are ready, or come back with me if you wish. Before you make any decisions--and before I do--about what exactly you would be doing, I would tell you who we have and how we are operating. And how I plan to change things," he added, fishing his fingers about like fishhooks in the warren mouth. "If we do wind up setting you in charge of designing trials, it will be with my own minor oversight first, and my training." There was hardly anyone better, after all, than the former Overseer of the Trials himself. "But that can wait. Perhaps you'll find another task you prefer in the meantime. Regardless, I welcome you into the Forge. You may tell me how you wish to be addressed: have you grown used to the name? Or would you rather earn it through service?" Vargas lifted his head to regard him, the permanent twist of his toothy jaws perfectly reflecting his mood just then; intense, a little cunning, ever-so-slightly amused. He felt positive about this--as in, good--as he'd soon tell the Desert Rose; but for now he was curious as to its choice.

Then he looked back down to the earth, ripping out great chunks of grassy sod with both forelimbs. "Our task, specifically, is to create useful beasts for Lord Dhracia to take away, every four cycles--this is at a minimum. To do that, I need more people. Those to defend us, those to look after growing chrysalises, those to train the children and to guard them, those to hunt for food for the rest. Someone to design trials would be quite useful." He paused in his speech, trying to figure out how to say what he'd intended to. One hand dipped into the warren, then the other; Vargas came out with not one but two wriggling little Wind Hoppers. With a swift smack he cracked their skulls together; then he lobbed one Vander's way. "I am... pleased, that you have put in an appearance. Or was it chance-?" He glanced back at Vander. "Either way, I think I would find you useful. I think the nest would."

Vargas, elbow-deep in rabbit-hole, thought, for a moment. Then, glancing back, his tone thoughtful, he spoke again. "I look forward to hearing your opinions on my plans. Do you care to hear them? Perhaps you can improve them, before I make them known."

@Vander

Vander nodded once more, backing away for Vargas to continue digging on. How different they were- Vargas, a Master, a beast- and he, a simple a Champion, something small to dart about and simply attempt to survive. "I certainly don't expect myself to compete with your own Trials if I do set about to make them, not for a long time, at least," he said with a hint of humor in his tone. Whatever they decided on, it would be a purpose- and it would be what had been swirling about in Vander's mind for too long. How many days had he sat out here in Pegasus, waiting for a chance encounter to see Vargas again? And he had imagined himself to be hiding from the Master when this conversation had taken a spin to the point that Vander...

He was speaking truthfully. When was the last time that had happened? Not with Lyn and Meissa- he'd always omitted things with them. And with Hemlocke, too- and with Vargas, he had so often forced everything down to serve to his whims. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he chose this fate that gave him strength, and confidence flowed through him as he set his mind to the Forge.

"Vander-" and he took a breath in here, thinking. "Vander is my name, but it doesn't feel proper to use it yet. I never earned it, officially- after all, the dragons have come and gone, so the mission wasn't truly completed- positively or negatively." A few flaps as he considered his options, and, "It would be best earned under your blessing, I think."

He'd maneuver himself higher when Vargas got a little more into digging, avoiding more dirt so he didn't get his face smacked with grass again. It was still on his muzzle, and he frowned at that for a moment, wiping his face away a little more. The process halted for a moment when Vargas started back up, and he dipped in a little closer as the digging slowed.

"How many per those cycles?" he asked, a strong wingbeat driving him away at an angle before he noticed the rabbit thrown to the side for him. The dragon swallowed- he hadn't finished the Tree Hopper from before, and he'd come to the ground by the offered prey to tear into its shoulder. An actual swallow, and he was looking back up to Vargas with the conversation, sitting in place with one set of claws ready to tear away more food.

"I had been in here for a few cycles now, after discovering one of the beasts under you. I never got their name- they'd fought with Azigh, stormed back off into Draco, and every so often I can see the ground torn up here and there from- I'm presuming them." He took a small, polite bite, using his claws as a sort of toothpick, like he was picking out fresh sushi to eat. "Ever since then, I suppose I've been waiting to catch you again, seeing as there's only one way out of Draco." He'd omitted the fact of where he had been, but that wouldn't matter to Vargas- after all, to the Master, perhaps accomplishments mattered more than someone's origins. "But, do tell your plans. I'll provide any input I can." He bent over to take another claw-pick bite. He may be a predator, but this was still business, no matter how casual this was.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Everything was a test, with Vargas, and Vander's choice to remain Desert Rose for now--to earn his name--pleased him. His response was a grunt, a dip of his head in acknowledgement; and then, as the Champion continued to speak, he held his own Wind Hopper over his massive jaws. He paused to speak. "One every four cycles, plus whatever I can manage for the Forge."

Tear, chew, swallow.

Vargas went back to rooting among the warren-holes, then, glancing to Vander. As he listened, his arm dug around, then deeper; then another rabbit bolted from its nest, snagged by a hind leg and lifted. Vargas snapped its neck, and chewed down this one, too. "What did this creature look like? The one that presumeably has been damaging Pegasus?" There was a gap of time--to let the Desert Rose answer--and then Vargas rolled one shoulder, and turned. "Right now, we have one Overseer--that is, Cain, or I think as you knew them, Garnet-Delta. They are a good Overseer: cunning and diligent, insightful, well-spoken. They Oversee the training of any spies, scouts, and assassins, and are currently training a bodyguard for the new Hand who has awoken in Cepheus--her name is Aethril; the Hand, that is. Overseer Orthoclase-Alpha has been missing for several cycles--I had told it to find some rest, and it has not returned, which is concerning. The only other productive Forge member is the Sentinel--a stone I revived myself, from a trialgoer, one who had been touched by chaos. He simply guards the door, and at times he bears a sentient blade, Mirac--quite powerful with magic, that one, but it needs the control of a steady hand. The reason I list them is to come to my next point--that is all we have, in terms of usefulness. Khavur is still with us but serves little purpose, as with the Orthoclase's spawn. We have those who would serve well as simple beasts of war, but they are barely-controlled; Chaos-One and Draconua among them. And Chaos-Two has turned out to be utterly useless--it fled its trial sobbing after nothing more than a raised voice." Vargas paused.

And that was my spawn, he realized. His own magic. Disgust roiled through him; he'd been going far too easily on it. The realization--the remembrance--that Chaos-Two was his own was a horrific one. It reflected very, very poorly on him.

"The point being, we are low on numbers and lower on productivity. Those we have who are useless, I need to assign new tasks. I had tried, once ensuring that they would answer only to me, to motivate them with only the promise of rewards. But it has not worked. A number of them are lazy, absent, or simply do nothing. That is in part my fault for not giving them more structured tasks--that is step one. Step two is to lay out punishments for failures. Tell me what you think of this: I intend to assign additional duties to those who shirk theirs. To remove the rights of those who abuse the ones they've been granted. To demote those who disobey, or show defiance, or use rights they had not earned. If a Forge member harms another outside of a spar, I plan to allow their victim to inflict that damage back on them--or to do it myself. If they fail a test as badly as Chaos-Two, they will face Trial by Combat--and if they fail, their stones might be recycled, or they may be reformed. True defiance I will punish by dragging them before the entirety of the Forge and forcing them into their chrysalis to be made an example of! And rebels will be executed, given to the Black Spire to burn away into nothing, as befits them--fed to our Creator's power."

Well, Vargas was waxing on again; and he realized it. He paused, and attempted a sort of summary. "I will figure out what we need, who fits that roles, and then lay out these punishments. I will also offer new rewards--to incite competition--among our members. Much of this is Overseer Cain's concepts, with my own details; but what do you think of these punishments? What do you think of it overall?"

He was curious what the Desert Rose would say. He didn't discount the idea that it might have good, genuine suggestions he could use; but also he wondered how it would react, what it would think of this overall. It would be good to have the perspective, he thought, of a Champion: someone from the old era, who could perhaps more clearly (without the pollution of thoughts from the interim period here) compare past and present, and judge one or both worthy.

@Vander

i'm so sorry. it's 2,263 words of every single inch of vander's thoughts. again, i'm sorry

Vander continued to eat, well-mannered as Vargas began. He was ready for a long spiel- after all, Vargas was rather prone to them, but so could he. This conversation could very well last for hours- but, it would be for the best.

”Tall. Dark, with a crimson face- long, with wings, and chaotic magic. I’ve seen it a few times, though I haven’t paid it much attention after the first.” Cut, chew, a thought. His ears twitched forward when Vargas continued, sitting up and pausing his meal to watch the Master ramble. Overseer Cain- ”the Overseer's design would do well in future pairings, I imagine,” he offered, especially with the accolades it’d accumulated.

His spine stiffened at the mention of another Hand. Two of them? ”Is there anything I should know of this Aethril? Has she made any demands as of yet, other than the bodyguard, anything akin to Lord Dhracia’s?” His tailtip trembled briefly, but he curled it closer and stamped it down with one paw, keeping it still.

The Alpha was missing- Vander had assumed that much. ”I don’t believe it would be one to turn up dead. Its tenacity has been overwhelming, but as with the dragons, perhaps it’s found itself into trouble it can’t get out of. How was its state, before leaving?” And he raised a wing-claw to scratch through his mane idly, eyes still on Vargas as he spoke.

”I suppose I will meet the two of them soon. How is Sentinel in controlling Mirac, then? Do you trust them to do good together? Mirac may need some training alone to contain itself, too, so it may be sent off without needing someone to tell it ‘no’.” And… That was all? ”Two and a half beings- not including us- that are useful to us now,” he pointed out, pulling his claw away with a small clump of hair and a mix of dust and grass. ”As for Khavur and the orthoclase’s spawn, have they been interested in purposes? Any interests in pursuing specific tasks? How do they interact with the others- will they be interested in assisting each other in tasks, to get them interested in doing their duties?” What duties would that be, he considered, but he needed to see that for himself.

And beasts of war. Chaos-One and Draconua- they would need direction, lest they take the nest down with them. ”Have the Hands shown any interests in mere beasts such as them? There may be use for them away from this nest, or their own ideas may be turned to guide them. If they are prone to destruction, give them something to protect- with purpose. Ensure that they will not desire to destroy it, be it a tantalizing physical reward or a being or place that they care about. Otherwise, they need their fury directed somewhere, or it’ll be taken out on the Forge and beings of this nest that have nothing to do with them. They may force others to rebel against the Forge if they find out we’re letting them roam uncontrolled.” He took in a sharp breath, shaking his head.

But… ”Chaos-Two… fled? I’m not surprised- perhaps it had taken too much hardship in one time, and it hadn’t had the time to harden itself to it. When I was taken to my first Trial, I was young and terrified- and yet I was forced to face my fears. Many others were in the same place and died no less than thirty minutes within the sands. They were not built for such things- and so they had failed, simple as that. But in the Forge, while we are pressed for time, we aren’t forced to drive creations through Trials, and we can’t afford to let our creations go to waste. We are but one Master and a handful of various other beings.

“If they are frustrated, give them time- try to understand what else they’ve been frustrated at, and work around that. Coax them into learning for themselves- do not force it, otherwise you may get a repeat incident. With beings like that, they cannot be thrust into the Trial without first being able to study.” This was unlike the nest he knew, and he knew that. But, he saw himself in them. He, too, had wished to avoid Trials. He had been thrust into the heart of it, just for being born into the wrong place, and yet he’d made it. And yet, so, so many others did not, and in this time of learning, there was no purpose in forcing their limited designs to break so easily. ”They need to be able to prepare now, so when they can’t prepare later, they know what to do.”

In a brief moment, Vander paused to catch his breath, leaning down and taking another small bite of his own rabbit. Chew, swallow, breathe. And then he continued, marking off checks on the bullet points in his head. ”It may be that they had no interests in the tasks, or thought that they wouldn’t be able to complete them. What has worked? Have they offered tasks they would like to do, such as patrolling, gathering intelligence, hunting, or learning? Much has changed- I’m not certain if the last point is useful, but there are new creations that we have yet to know about. It may be good to consolidate what we know and let the other members know, as well- within reason.” He nodded to his final addition, before considering the punishments.

”Additional duties may work. However, it needs to be asked- why did they not do their’s in the first place. Is it simple laziness that can be punished by the duties, or did they not think they could do their task? Had they tried and failed, been dissuaded in some way? Or did they fear repercussions for failing? It is easy to worry, perhaps, of what a superior thinks- even if they fail and receive no punishment at all, they will still blame themselves and feel lesser about it, believing that they will receive a punishment in the future or be harshly looked down upon for one minor accident.” He paused again, taking another small bite of rabbit, before continuing.

Rights. Should they not be, instead, privileges? ”It’s hard to demand the members of the Forge to give up their own rights when they see other beings use them on their own. What’s keeping them from leaving the Forge- fear that you’ll come after them, or send Overseer Cain to hunt them down? When they’re in the Forge, perhaps they may consider names- but superiors may not recognize them until they have earned that privilege. Exacting punishment for the incorrect name used between those who are mere children is harsh- and though it may have been something I thought of myself, it’s still hard to forget a name once you give yourself one.”

Case in point, Vander, still referring to himself as Vander. He had no expectations of Vargas to call him anything but Desert Rose, and yet if those under him called him that, that may be demeaning. ”Perhaps, when they earn titles, or a high enough rank, then they may have their names recognized.” Munch, bite, cleared throat. He was getting a little thirsty.

”While it should be discouraged for children to be made, with so few proper superiors within the Forge, it may be easy to plant a chrysalis outside of Draco and hide it from vision. If they’re discovered, consider this: require them to provide an offspring from a pairing approved by the Overseers or you, to increase our ranks and for them to understand that they should not throw about their designs into the wild. Full restriction will never be possible, and yet, while perhaps demotion or more tasks temporarily may be good if these children are discovered, the offspring should not bear the brunt of the punishment for the sake of their existence.”

They shouldn’t be thrown into Hydra, dragged away from their father, either.

”Another consideration, for privileges- private dwellings. Personal places that no one, not even Overseers or you without probable cause, may enter. Punishment will be given to those who are found- with evidence!- in someone else’s dwelling without permission, and will provide an extra incentive to do good within the group. Consider allowing them to make this dwelling outside of the tunnel’s entrance, this side, as well- I’m certain Draco is not so easy on the senses after being within it for so long.”

He shuffled in place quietly, clearing his throat a little louder, before lapping up some of the blood that had pooled from the rabbit’s innards. ”Wounds made with purpose outside of spars should be punished, but not to the point that it incapacitates not one, but two members of the Forge. What if the attacker is forced to take care of whoever they harmed? It would cause them to understand that they inflicted pain, and it would be an according punishment, lasting as long as the injured would need to heal. This way, if we need them, we are not down too many members.”

His tail curled in tighter. ”And as for trial by combat- if a creature designed to win these by any means, who’s to say that they will fail every test and simply use the trial as backup? If we rely on this, we’ll only breed stupidity and brawn, a mix that is never good together, unless you wish to unleash them like Chaos-One and Draconua. No- consider why they failed. Don’t poison the being with the strongest infliction you can find- start them with small tests, and let them build an immunity. Let them understand why they failed. Tell them, so they may learn from the mistake, instead of them sitting and wondering what had gone wrong. What was the test, anyways, if it caused them to do that..?”

He shook his head. ”But, as for reformation- it may be necessary. Demotions of disobedience and defiance shouldn’t be forced to that, though- perhaps strip them of titles temporarily, force them to do tasks that they may not enjoy but are useful to the group as a whole, such as hunting prey for the Forge or patrolling within Draco. Keep them generally within Pegasus and Draco itself, so they understand that their priority is the Forge, and keeping the entirety of it training properly.” He paused, considering- what if they refused this?

”If there’s no more demotion left to offer, then they may require physical punishment- force them into idleness, force them to guard one spot for an extended time, let them crave something else to do. And if they refuse this, if they challenge the entirety of the Nest and show true defiance, then they may be placed in their chrysalis. But it should be considered why. What drove them to dissatisfaction, consider what exactly they had refused, and prepare something for them when they wake up. Not reward, no- but a temporary relief of previous punishments, unless they relapse and continue to defy.”

And he huffed. ”And if they turn to rebellion, feeding them to the Black Spire is the best thing to do. We have no room for that within our ranks.” He held his head high and nodded, staring straight to Vargas.

”In short, consider what the others are feeling with a sense of recognition. Why do they feel this way? Consider that they do not have the years of experience that we do- they were born purposeless, and are expected to find that purpose themselves. That is a monumental task to drive on someone. Let them know that purpose- fate, destiny, whatever it may be- is their’s to choose, and for us to be proud of. They are children, Master Vargas. Most don’t understand why we do the things we do, and they will not understand through just fear.”

And he huffed out, his head hanging for a moment. It was a long speech, but he figured he got the most out of it, shaking his head and licking his dry lips. But, as he went for a last bite, he considered and pulled back- ”As for successful creations, perhaps rewards for groups should be considered. If they train someone else in something, and that other being completes a task that utilized the previous lessons, then that trainer should be rewarded justly, in turn. Not to the level of the successful one, but something- an acknowledgement, a physical reward, a reflection that they assisted in passing on what they learned to others.

“And competition- be careful that it doesn’t drive them apart. Let them have something to reach for, but don’t punish the losers for the failings outside of their control. Instead, consider items for the winners- something to be rotated from winner to winner, and competitions can be declared for a challenger to take that item. Something enchanted, maybe..? Or a special title? A special privilege?”

He shrugged, coughing out lightly. ”I’ve said a lot, though- but those are my thoughts on it all. And all of it. Now, if you don’t mind, I think my tongue’s about to fall out of my mouth if I don’t take another bite.” Vander let out a huff of a laugh before bending back down, no longer using his claws like tableware. Instead, he ate like he normally did- licking up all the blood he could along the way.

It was a lot for one creature to talk about, after all.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vander earned a grunt at that description. "Draconua," Vargas said; "not one of my creations. We found her waking beneath the Black Spire when we entered Draco. An old creature, asleep for centuries--millennia, perhaps. I do not know who made her." Thus far, nobody had stepped up to take credit for her. "She would make a fine war-beast but controlling her has proven problematic."

As for the Overseer's design--"I imagine so. It is looking for a suitable apprentice, or a suitable stone to create one with, at the moment. We will see how it comes out." A foul reminder that even his own magic had created Chaos-Two--anyone could fail. "The Hand has requested a special design created for her. It is growing," Vargas answered. Not far from there, in fact--back in the tunnel toward Draco, albeit well-hidden and well-guarded. "She is otherwise inspecting our work. I am still getting a sense for her style. As for the Orthoclase, it used to be tenacious. Before it departed it was lethargic and disinterested. I had tried to ask the rest of the Forge what they thought of this--if they knew a reason for its behavior. They did not. I sent it away thinking that perhaps rest would do it good. But it has not returned." He didn't give all the details, of course; there was no reason to delve into the entirety of the story. The point was, Vargas believed--based on its behavior at the time--that there was every chance that it might turn up dead. (Or, of course, he wouldn't have mentioned it.)

"Mirac is receiving training already, yes; that is a good observation." As if Vargas would let it go without. "Sentinel is handling that--it has proven dutiful and well-adapted, and powerful in its own right. It cannot be sent off alone--how do I describe this... Did I mention that it is a sentient sword? I do not think it can move on its own," he said, and then--thoughtfully--added, "but I may be wrong in that. In truth, I did not check." He couldn't think of a way a sword might levitate around, but maybe it could... sort of scissor itself... across the floor? With its jaws..? He didn't know, for sure, but the mental image was faintly amusing, and for a moment his gaze grew distant with it.

"As for purposes, I will look into that during our meeting. I intend to lay out what we need, and match our needs to our members as best I can--with some measure of choice on their part, of course. They were mostly simply training but I believe not all of them have been bothering with it. I have let that slide because I had no real need of them before. That was a mistake." Granted, the Labradorite had--he thought--helped Chaos-Four learn water-based combat; Khavur had been declared some form of guardian, but so far as he knew it hadn't actually been confronted with any real dangers as yet. "If the Hands want one of them, they will take them, particularly if I fail to deliver." Vargas's tone was mostly indifferent, here. "Your concept is interesting in theory, but Draconua... She, for one, would not be bound to a particular object or place, or creature, to guard, I think. I may try to task her with it--perhaps guarding the Black Spire itself. That would be useful," he admitted, "but she tends to embody true Chaos. Being limited in any way drives her into a rage. It may help control her, but I could not trust her with ensuring the target's safety--it would be nothing more than busywork, a leash, a collar. But it is perhaps worth a try." The idea of Draconua--or even Nidhogg--having something they "cared about" was laughable, though the Spire was perhaps the closest thing he could think of for the Sleepless Chaos, at the very least. "Regardless, only Draconua roams, and not far. Thus far there have been few complaints, but if it becomes problematic it will be handled." This held the faintest edge of disinterest--these opinions were obvious to him, and a few of the things Vander had said were almost insulting in their obviousness. If he had not been thinking of these things already--training Mirac, for example--he'd not have remotely been doing his job. But he had asked for his input, and so he did not complain--it wasn't out of line in the slightest, nor was it exactly wrong.

"You are not surprised?" he asked, when Vander mentioned Chaos-Two. "I was surprised!" and his voice was a bellow, an almost angry boom. "I can afford to let weakness go to waste. Chaos-Two was given training, patience, time. It raised several Valkhounds, some of which were truly problematic! One attacked at every opportunity, including aiming for myself. It showed no signs of anything bar intelligence, patience, and I even remade it--physically, with my own power!--to rid it of its pain and blindness! And how did it repay-?" the Master ranted, irritation rife in his tone. "Accusations and simpering weakness. It went from clear communication to bawling uselessness. It was wholly unexpected." Not surprised, Vargas thought, bitterly. The Desert Rose had no idea how far Chaos-Two had come--only to shatter in the final seconds of its trial.

Anger simmered away, and Vargas shook his head. "There is a time for gentle coaxing and so on. It had plenty of that, and plenty of preparation and study. It wanted a trial. And it held interest in its task: this was a task chosen by the both of us after intense discussion, to find something it wished to do and could safely perform." There. Explanation over; he'd prepared it as best he could and it had simply snapped.

Pathetic.

Vargas cut a glance to Desert Rose, then, and moved on: he did not intend to come across harsh to Vander, who hadn't known any of this.

"This anger is not directed at you." He exhaled. "I am aware you don't know of the happenings in your absence. It is simply frustrating that my attempts to be more fair and patient have resulted in more failures than the method of rewarding failure with death. It will be a difficult balance to find." It was said a little shortly, and the Leviathan grunted, pushing forward in the conversation.

"As for failure to perform--dereliction of duty--of course I will ask the 'why.' Accidents would not be punished. Failures would be taken case-by-case. But laziness is naturally what will be punished. If they feel they cannot perform their tasks, they are encouraged--and have been since the formation of the Forge--to come to me and speak. I have tried to maintain open lines of communication," and wasn't that a switch from the old days-? This fell again, to Vargas, under the category of "obvious, but I did ask"--and it was, again, fair that the Desert Rose was ensuring all these little details. It showed a considering mind, if nothing else: a mind that was turning over each problem to examine it from all angles. That was good.

"I do not intend to allow them to use names until they are earned," he went on, though it was after a moment's thought. "There must be rewards granted for performance--motivation. And I demand that my people prove themselves. But you are right in what you say of the others, outside the Forge: that ours will look outward, and imagine a better life. There are solutions that another Overseer or Master might use for that, of course: to blind them, to hide them away so they cannot see. Or to destroy everyone outside the Forge, so that there is no better life for them to look at. Or allow them to rampage, and destroy those outside the Forge as they see fit." Vargas paused, studying Vander. "I have no desire to do those things. It does make for a conundrum. For now, the only promise I can make them is that I can protect those directly beneath my authority from the whims of the Hand, and other Masters, whereas those outside it most certainly are not. But if you, Desert Rose, can think of another method--one that does not simply grant them rights at the outset--bring it to me. It is something I have been thinking on, and it is a difficult question."

Vander's mention of punishing offspring brought a startled gesture from the Master: a faint drawing back. "I would not punish the offspring for their own creation. They were ignorant of that." He liked to consider himself fair, at least. "Dwellings are a good idea. And in fact may be a fine reward." He pondered this, for a moment. "I wonder if it would be possible to find one capable of creating shelters, and decorating them. Something like the palace in Cepheus, but in Draco itself--warrens of stone, with lights and beds. Granting them education is another possibility. The ability to read, to write. If the Forge itself has benefits, it will encourage them to remain--and others to join. Life must be better with us than outside us." Vargas considered again, eyeing Vander thoughtfully. "The idea of dwellings is an excellent idea, Desert Rose, and if I put it into practice you will be credited with it."

He listened to the idea of forcing an attacker to care for the attacked, but he didn't reply, on this. He tucked it away, considering, but in his mind it was unlikely that any of the Forge would have the magic or knowledge necessary to do so. Granted, medic training would be useful for anyone, at least a basis; but they were hardly the supportive, gentle types. In his mind, forcing such things would be more likely to cause fatal infections from neglected wounds than actual healing, but he would bear it in mind, and consider it.

"Trial by Combat is not a replacement," he started again, and his voice was ominously soft. "It is to allow them permission to try their real Trial again." Nothing more need be said on that subject: if they failed, they would wind up dead or chrysalized, and if they succeeded, they'd earned another chance.

"Your mention of demotions, temporary removal of rights and titles, additional work--that is already to be done," Vargas went on. He thought he'd mentioned it, but perhaps not. "And I do intend to keep them within Draco for that, or Pegasus, if they are assigned hunting. Your thoughts, it seems, align with mine on this completely." Forcing them to guard specific spots had also been on his list, already. The mention of feeding true rebels to the Black Spire--Desert Rose's stern nod--earned one in turn from Vargas. It would be hard, he felt, for anyone to disagree with that. "Reformation will be reserved for outright defiance, and nothing less." Well, perhaps "repeated disobedience" but that was rather the same thing, was it not?

The Desert Rose then turned to pleading for understanding, of the children. Little did it know he'd been doing his best; but Vargas was not exactly the prime target for empathy. "I am well aware that they are children. I will counter that they are children of Chaos, but I have always given the young ones time to grow, to train, with a gentle hand. Their purpose is found by those training them, by themselves, and myself--chosen as they grow, based on what they enjoy, what they are skilled at. I do not intend to rule through fear." Indeed, that was the very point of his request to his Lord Dhracia--he did not want obedience purely under threat of death... or melting into Oil. His memory of scars across the Orthoclase's face only reinforced his belief that he had chosen well. "However, I am not a creature of empathy. I was not created to be! That was, in part, what Chaos-Two was destined for. I had recognized that softness in it, and together we had determined that it would be a more suitable, kinder hand for the young ones. Unfortunate that it failed," he added. "You mention training: that is, too, a task that will be rewarded, yes." That went without saying, he felt: improvement of others within the Forge would garner its own reward.

"There is wisdom in looking to the group dynamic. It, too, will be a difficult balance to strike--to keep them competitive to some extent will give them something to focus on, additional motivation. They may have fun with their clashes, providing it is within structured limits. But we must prevent them from breaking into outright fighting over it; that was a mistake this Nest made often," he added, thinking grimly of Nemean and Farina. "It will need to be closely monitored. There will be particular rewards, but each will be different--that I will need to consider, although enchanted items are not a poor idea."

Vargas waited, then, as Vander ate. His mind ran over the entirety of the conversation, from start to end, with a new eye: examining Desert Rose's thought process. Then he turned his attention back to the Champion. "Your tongue has not fallen out?" he asked, with dry humor.

This confirmed, he went on. "You hold some good ideas, and have improved my own plans here and there. I must consider where to find someone who can form structures, homes. And perhaps enchanted rewards for the creatures. Much of what else you have suggested is already implemented, or will be; but you have been absent and you do not know my mind--I mention it only to note that your thoughts and conclusions are considered and fair. You are examining things from many angles, and this is good. I will add, as I have to the others, that--once you have a feel for how things are in the Forge, and how I run them--you should come to me any time you have concerns, or suggestions. I will listen to them. And I do not want unease to fester. I intend to try this new system--to add punishment to reward, and give them more to do--and past that, we will see." He grunted, thinking.

"You will need to be involved, I think, with the other Overseers and myself: as children--or new, fully-grown spawn--are created, you will have to have a hand in monitoring their paths and progress. Assuming, that is, you choose to arrange Trials for them. You will need individual familiarity with each of them; to work closely with Overseer Cain, for example, to design a Trial for a spawn it might be training in assassination. It will, in the end, be up to each Overseer what their charges are presented with, but there are few more familiar with the process than old Champions."

Or maybe Desert Rose would choose to be a housing manager, instead. As long as it was something, Vargas did not particularly care; he wanted all of the keen, observant minds that he could get.

@Vander

As usual, there was a lot to take in, and Vander offered his nods or hums here and there. Draconua, the Hand's requests- it was all shifted through and partitioned in his brain. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern for the orthoclase- it was a being he did enjoy, from limited memory of it.

And he nodded to Mirac's training. "Is it-- metalbound? I suppose I'll see it later, anyways," he spoke his mind, rolling his shoulders.

While Vader spoke a lot, he recognized that many of the thoughts were establishing base- of course Vargas would have done the obvious, and yet it was good to consider all of it. It would help to tell him how he'd handle it, if he were to become a general trainer for the younger beings. "She is... Attached, to Chaos. Perhaps something that we can make her believe that's essential for it. But- it may need a bit more thorough thinking, rather than the time it takes for this cursory introduction." He took another small bite of the rabbit now before curling his paws back and under himself, focus now solely on Vargas.

When Vargas's voice rose, though, his spine curled and his eyes went just a little wider, fur and scales raising in defense. Had he spoke out of turn..? Or- he presumed so much, and it was clear Vargas was not mad at him. Slowly, his body relaxed as Vargas let out his fury. "It tanked that bad?" One lip curled- failure by throwing into the fire (as he'd assumed) was one thing, but letting them study, teaching them, and they still failed? "If it failed, and if it can't control its emotions in a true Trial, even after trainings and studies- then it might as well be a failure. We don't have time to waste on those who don't retain their own lessons even a slight bit." A faint growl laced under his tone, and he scoffed by the end, shaking his head. "I understand the anger. I didn't know the extent, that's true- but your frustration's obvious." Of course, he'd give his own opinion and views on things to help counter that, but for now he had nothing to do but to discover what he'd missed.

Vander- Desert Rose, shuffled back together and settled back down, watching. Of course, there were more things he'd pointed out that would be a given with Vargas, and a few things he considered, too. What should they do to make the Forge more desirable? "I will think on that, yes." He bobbed his head in a nod.

He glanced aside at the reaction to unwanted offspring. "... Apologies, sir. Just some memories," and he shook his head, forcing himself not to relive Lyn's own memories once more. And as for the thoughts on dwellings and education, Vander's ears flicked up- it was something he would desire, after all, and he stowed that away, too. And as for Trial by Combat, well- if Vargas thought it to be good, and with his thoughts on it already aired, he would have nothing more to say. Fine enough.

Vander nodded along once more- while Vargas had spoken on everything, Vander thought to give his own assessment on it, too, and it had seemed good enough.

He tucked in his legs a little more as they returned to speaking on children. He nodded along- his mind had turned back, again to Lyn, and his lips tightened for a moment. How many Champions were like him, beings who were not created for Hydra and yet thrown into it anyways? Perhaps it would be a question for later. For now, the conversation trailed on, and Vander simply continued to listen. They were to the conclusion, and Vander's head was held up higher, pulling himself in review, too. Meet the others, first off, discuss with Overseer Cain... Definitely establish himself as a member with the Sentinel, so he could pass through.

Vargas had changed. No longer was he the unapproachable Overseer- as Master, it seemed he was closer than ever. Strange, how it all changed.

Vander nodded a bit deeper to being involved. "I believe I will aim for that- working with their strengths and weaknesses overall, devising Trials- though there's still time to decide, it seems. Thank you for this opportunity- and for asking for my thoughts." His head dipped, and he looked to the rabbit, thinking. Not much had been left, but there was still some meat on the bones.

"I think I've had enough rabbit, if you'd like to finish this one off," he offered, sweeping out one wing-paw as he gestured to it.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

...Hell, was it metal? Vargas considered. "It looked to be-... flesh and bone," he answered, but it was a contemplative response. He couldn't be sure; he hadn't spotted a telltale gleam of steel or the like, but it had been screaming and half-slicked in Oil. "When you do see it, be prepared for its-... screaming," he suggested, dark amusement in his tone.

"In any case. With Draconua, thorough consideration, as you say; I will remember the suggestion. If we can find a way to make it work it may provide her a task to keep her busy. Or perhaps I can set her to creating the buildings." He doubted that would work, but perhaps a redirection of her chaotic destruction into chaotic-... what, creation?

As for the mention of Chaos-Two, Vargas could only, quietly agree. "My frustration is obvious." What more was there to say? He'd worn himself out on it; fury still simmered. Not only at Chaos-Two itself, but at the entirety of the situation. Just some memories? This jolted him from his own thoughts, head coming up to peer at the Desert Rose. "You may speak of them, if you wish," and how magnanimous-? But he did not pry.

"We will work on that going forward, as you say," he went on, agreeably. "Again, I am glad to have run into you. You are a Champion, your worth has been proven--not only in the Trials but afterward. The more level heads I have to counteract the mad ones, the better." Was there annoyance in that, or amusement? Both, perhaps.

The last few scraps of rabbit were lifted with a nod, and the Leviathan noted briefly that if someone had wanted to poison him, this would be a good way. As the last of meat and bones tumbled down his throat (after a solid crunch) he reflected that the taste would almost be worth it. The Wind Hoppers out here were fat and healthy.

He would leave them to replenishing their warren; a few small beasts were enough to keep him going, for awhile. "Appreciated," he said bluntly, pushing up. "Do you want to come back with me now, and tour Draco itself? Or do you have other business to attend to, first?" He didn't ask what that business might be; he didn't particularly care or--more accurately--it wasn't really his business. It could have been, but he didn't make it so; the Desert Rose's private life (and whatever it had been doing in the interim) was its own.

@Vander

Screaming. Alright. Vander let out a huff of amusement in turn, one facsimile of an eyebrow raised. And for Draconua, building? "She may as well set traps in them, or make them unusable just for her amusement," he considered, very slight humor still in his tone. He could imagine the kind of structure she'd made- lopsided, with some sort of spike-trap set right in the middle of it. If it would be useful, it'd be one thing, but did the valkhound even desire comfort like he'd envisioned?

Vander glanced away. He could talk on his memories, yes, but how much should he divulge? His jaw set briefly, formulating in his mind just what he should say as he listened on. "Here's hoping that they level out eventually," was all he responded with. He was curling back when Vargas finished off the hopper, wings ruffling out to his sides and ready to take off once Vargas set off.

"I'd like to walk- fly?- with you- I don't have much holding me here, anyways." With that, he leapt and caught himself, hovering in place at Vargas's height. "As for memories-- how much did you know of trial-goers before they entered their first Trial?" His own memory was fuzzy, and even he couldn't quite remember his first interaction with Vargas- and yet, would Vargas even know where he'd come from? He doubted it. After all, his mind- during those times- were to be put towards the Trials, not towards the past.

In truth, he still didn't know what to say. Should he even mention Lyn? Perhaps he should not put a name to the face, for now, even if they were safe. His family were so close, and Vargas could find some way into the refuge, somehow...

He huffed, gently, swooping forward to glide towards Draco.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas gave a grunt of amusement, and answered Vander in kind: "I don't think she's smart enough." The thought, though, was amusing; he'd have to double-check (even if she did take to building, which he very, very much doubted) that she didn't do just that.

When Desert Rose agreed to accompany him back, he answered with his old and cheerful boom. "Good! We'll go now, then. I can introduce you to those you haven't met, at least, and show you around Draco. Be careful around the Black Spire," he added in preemptive warning. "Its power would change one such as you, and consume you, too, if you got too close." As for Vargas? He could pick rocks out of it to make new Valkhounds with. If he wanted to, at least.

Long, easy, but unhurried strides began to carry him back toward the treeline, and back toward Draco. Desert Rose hovering close by was not, to Vargas's surprise, annoying; it was almost like having a little familiar flitting around alongside him. Ahh, add that to the illusion of supreme power.

The question about trial-goers caught him somewhat by surprise, and he glanced at Desert Rose. "Do you mean in general, or specifically-?" he asked. "In general, a Master makes them, and perhaps does some of its training or turns it over to an Overseer for that, and then the design is tested." It took him a moment to realize that the Desert Rose was likingly referring to its own memories, prior to its testing. "Some of them I helped to train, some I did not meet before their trials. Different Masters had different methods. And not all sent to Hydra, of course. Others had their own tests entirely." Sometimes, he'd suspected that Nemean just really liked watching sending creatures out to flail in Hydra, though many of the trial-goers hadn't even been hers. Not the ones with these gemstones, at least; this magic. And Desert Rose, he'd never seen its arrival; it had simply been delivered, one of many to be trained and tested. "You're thinking of something before your trial?" he hazarded, glancing at it again.

@Vander