The risk in pushing and digging was far too ambiguous for Khavur to grasp. He was completely blind to the presence of the devil's axe at his necks, ready to slice each fruit from the vine. However, intuition remained intact in other places. Khavur felt an end to the unraveling twine — not a true ending, but a line he would be unable to cross. He felt it when Master Vargas had begun to dodge questions with answers that turned the tables back to the Reaver. For the most part, he was fine with that, anxious to be fine with that. He was beginning to understand, in full view, despite the lack of some eyes, just who Master Vargas was, what drove him, and why... he treated them all the way he did.

Instinctively, he tugged on his end of the line to send a message. No response. This, too, was likely for the best. Maximus would not have liked any of it. Still, a message came to mind; one of parting. 'I am sorry, Maximus. I do not see any of what you sought in him. I believe, even if it is in there, it is so far underneath, it so far escapes him, that he would never have given it... to any of us.' Both heads followed the motions of the predator before them. This was no person. This heart was not soft, and that was exactly the way he preferred it to be. If there was monstrous love, Khavur decided, Master Vargas did not possess it. And perhaps it decided that because... it was easier that way.

Who else would hope for him? Who else would he send away, because of that hope? The zoisite? Orth— Do not make such impossible leaps. Khavur's mind switched to a different track, which it then began to barrel down. "Your motivations you must find for yourself, and," Purpose. "continue to drive yourself to build the world you would create." Purpose. "A monster, or the Creator of monsters." Purpose. Khavur was at the end of the rope, he could see the end of the tracks, the end of the line. Somehow, he related it to the start of his life rather than the end of it.

All humor was lost on it. Khavur didn't react. When all you have sought is right before you, tunnel vision is a guarantee. Synapses fired, ozone in the air, infernal bellowing from the lungs that ate the coal that powered the machine. They were like machines. They had purposes, codes, identities, written out for them by someone. What was Khavur's? What was the zoisite's, the labradorite's? Maximus's? What had Master Vargas intended for them? And who had intended this for Master Vargas? There was something just above Khavur's head that he felt he could not reach. Some situation above this. The worlds beyond this. All of it was related, of course, but where did the Chaos Forge fit in? Lord Dhracia? What was Khavur staring, right in the face, this thing he was meant to be in, but not participate in?

Khavur was a monster, but not the kind intended to reach the surface. Khavur... wanted to... create, but— "I am understanding much better now," He spoke with his own rapid fervor, running at a pace that could get him tangled in his own limbs. "and I fear I have spent too much time asking questions, but" I need to know I need to know "I need to know: why did you create us? Me? Zoisite-One, Labradorite-One, Maximus? What— You had said, to us, after Her visit, when the rest of them were small, that you would make monsters or we would be taken. I would be taken. So we were not meant to go to the other lands, and not meant to destroy. What then—" From the bushes, a sudden thought sprung and attacked Khavur, going for the throat: Does it even matter what the intention was if we can surpass it? It went for the throat, but it missed. Khavur still wanted the knowledge, even if it was futile.

"Who made you, to Oversee?" That would be it, for him. Any more unwinding and he'd sooner cut off his own heads. He surpassed it, didn't he? His purpose. He is no longer Overseer. Khavur reassessed that thought immediately, watching violent limbs, cloaked death. No. But it is still a part of him. Whatever was intended for me might still be a part of me. Except... the zoisite, the labradorite, and Maximus came from stones. No design. No purpose. There is nothing ingrained in them besides what their ancestors gave them. Eyes trained on Master Vargas, narrowed, and never wavered. So then, what he intended for them is still important. What he intends has always been important.
A final thought: Do I want to help him? Him, as in him, as in the Master before Khavur, as in not just those Khavur saw as siblings. Did Khavur agree with him?

The significance of every other word — sparing rather than saving, constant death, whatever Master Vargas was refusing to say — was not lost on Khavur. It only needed more time, to reflect. It just didn't think it could stomach anymore of whatever this scenario was, for the time being.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Had the Leviathan known that Khavur's words were so far divorced from his thoughts, he would have been surprised.

Had he known what those thoughts were, he might even have been shocked.

Shocked, at what he'd have perceived to be an entire reversal of the points he was trying to make despite the veil layered over his words, and shocked, almost moreso, at the fact that Khavur possessed such interest at all.

He might, even, have found a proper use for the Hound.

As it was, the words certainly hinted at something more. He tilted his head, watching Khavur. He wants to know why I made them?

...Why?

It wasn't that it was an unfair question to ask of him. It was more that it was unexpected. The motivation might mean Khavur sought that purpose, hoping to hear why he'd been created so that he could follow the thread he imagined had been laid out before him--or he might be trying to further understand the nest--or he might be miserable and wishing he had never existed.

"First: you may ask as many questions as you wish. I will have one for you, when we are done, but before I answer this one, I have a question now. Tell me--why do you ask these things?"

It was asked with curiosity, and nothing more. It was not a demand though undoubtedly it was spoken with the authority of a Master behind it, expecting an honest answer. It was not suspicion.

It was simply curious, that was all--these things that Khavur was asking.

And Vargas wondered.

@Khavur

Now it was Master Vargas who asked why. Khavur found that that, being in place of an answer, was annoying. And the concept of being asked another question, at the end of all of this... the trepidation, at the moment, was annoying. Khavur was in a cocoon of thoughts at the moment, not ready to be dissected himself. But this was only a minor barrier, one that, to surpass, would provide Master Vargas with incomplete answers, all subject to change, and so he would likely have little accurate information to gain from it. Which was also annoying, and rather impractical, but Master Vargas did not know that yet. So Khavur let his thoughts spill. The desperation in his thoughts was entirely cut from his voice. His pace began to slow.

"All this time, I have been... seeking to understand. This world, and what I am to do in it, or with it... I am young, eternal and young, and I am unsure. I do not like this uncertainty. I awoke from a chrysalis and... dedicated myself to one thing at a time. But all purposes seem to end. Battles conclude. Children grow up." Maximus is gone, unreachable. "Purpose after purpose I chase, and they never suffice, or they become impossible to complete. You were an Overseer for thousands of my lifetimes, created to be such, and the impulse has never left you, even as you left the role. I do not know how many opportunities you had before then, at finding an eternal reason for existing, or at understanding your abilities and what they can be used for. I have had several, and I fear that I have not settled on even one reason, and I have not uncovered nor mastered much of my strength. Perhaps that is impatience and indecision. Perhaps I am simply young, still. You said to find my own motivations, and this is my process."

Not enough. Khavur was dithering.

"To be more clear— if I had an intention, ingrained in my nature; if I were to be a monster or something else, I would like to know about it, even if it does not dictate my role in the Forge. Is it a flaw, or a strength? Does it conflict with my mind, or work alongside it? I cannot know until I know what it is. If there is any. And, if there is not, it might explain my hunger... my inconsistency. It is all in that same goal of understanding... myself.

And as for asking about the others... I notice, in them, patterns in their nature. They were not made by your design, they only need consider what was passed onto them. I am curious about the natures they have inherited, if I might be able to help them using that information, as I have always wanted to. I am also curious about your intended purpose for creating them. They were not your monsters, not destined for other lands... Were they experiments, then? Were they to be monsters in the caves? This is to understand the world around me. I believe, of all my natures, the desire to understand has been the most consistent. If you seek power, and to display your power, then I seek understanding."

That last part did not encapsulate it all, but it did reveal something, and Khavur could feel that nakedness. Understanding drove him, had driven every action in every cycle. That was only one part. The other... what made him defend his siblings, what made him vouch for Maximus, what made him feel pity, empathy, what made him care about what he learned? Was it love? Khavur wanted to call it that, because that was easy. But was he even capable of such a thing? Not like Maximus had been. This was not something Master Vargas would hear about, if Khavur had anything to say about it. Love and softness, Master Vargas did not seem to know how to compute. That was to be expected. He was a machine. Khavur was a defective machine.

"I asked about who made you because..." That was more difficult. It was almost whimsy. "Yes. I wish to understand you, as well. Your purpose is within this nest, and outside of it. Lord Dhracia... long ago, I felt an emotion I believed was Hers. I detected it. Sadism that I... enjoyed, that I did not understand, and that scared me. She, too..." He trailed off. "I am my world, Master Vargas. I am the world I walk in, and I walk through this world blindly." Desperation poured back in as Khavur lost the ability to articulate. Suddenly, this was not so easy. He, too, wanted to will Master Vargas to understand, and his gaze showed as much. "This is why I seek as I do. And why I am grateful for your answers."

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas listened in silence, but this--this was a speech. He was pleased that Khavur gave him so many words, so much to listen to, to pick apart and understand. Not to dissect, but to learn.

It clarified so much. And if the beast was withholding things, well, Vargas was wholly unaware.

Khavur's internal conflict was explained and, for the first time, really laid bare. His struggle for purpose, why, it was almost philosophical. Vargas considered suggesting he spent time in the library of Cepheus, learning to read books by ancient scholars on that very topic. Not that Vargas himself had read them--but he knew that they were there, shelf after shelf of confused flailing by creatures who knew not their place in the universe. It had always amused him, before, because he had never needed such things but now he understood that perhaps that'd been a gift. Not something he could take credit for, not when he could see it clearly lacking in Khavur, and that was a failing of the Hound's creator.

That was Vargas's fault.

So while the idea of a two-headed beast quietly perusing a library came with its own brand of hilarity, Vargas did wonder if it might do Khavur some good to know that he was not alone in that.

When the creature had at last finished, Vargas paced away--a slow, thoughtful circle, tail-tip sweeping along behind him. It occurred to him that Khavur mentioned having felt Lord Dhracia's emotions. Does he test mine, as well? he wondered, and almost idly set out feelers to watch and see. But that was not now his main focus. He came to a halt again facing Khavur, and began to speak slowly.

There was much to address.

"It is good that you ask these things. And your explanation clarifies much," he began. Praise where it was due: encouragement for cooperation. "And before I go on, I will correct one remark, unless I have misunderstood you--V-Zoisite-One is not my creation. It is the spawn of Orthoclase-Alpha. That one was a random spawn, though I think a successful one." What he based this judgment off of, he did not say. "Nor is V-Labradorite-One my own, but again, a spawn of the Orthoclase. It holds relationship to V-Chaos-One, I believe."

It was not a very serious correction, but if he were laying out facts he wished to be sure that all was accurate--or as accurate as he could allow it to be.

"You are right, you were not created to raze worlds. And you are right, I was created to Oversee. That was a gift to me, in some sense. A purpose, built into me." He took a breath. The next thing he had to address was delicately tricky. It was another of those tightropes that could spill both of them into the abyss. No doubt he'd have felt that thrill of fear at the question, had he not been asked it once before. "The one who made me is no longer in this nest. Some of the Masters were deemed traitors after the rebellion," he went on.

The source of all your woes, Khavur, and if only they had warned me.

If his suspicions, at least, were true. But then, even that could not be blamed for everything a creature was. No: his own failings factored in.

"I fear that some of your indecision, your confusion, may well be my fault." Topic: changed; and now the Master paced again, an unhurried few steps this way and that with long pauses in between. And for a moment he looked to Khavur, direct, solemn. "I will tell you what you are."

"You were the first creation of a new Master. A Master who wished to test out his first design. To see what he could do. A Master who was clumsy, and new, and did not know that a mind must be shaped along with a body. You were a template, a test, my cherished First. Your purpose was to serve the Nest, as is mine. As was Maximus's, as was Chaos-One's. I did not yet know exactly what I would need, nor did I know that I could, or should, shape you from the start. So I created spawn--their blood random, yours shaped--only with the intention of having you serve the nest. We needed many to guard, to train, to feed the young monsters we would send from this nest--we still do! We are still woefully low in number. -I had planned to train you all, examine you, and find your skillsets as you developed, and put you to the best use that I could find. This does not leave you without purpose; it only means that you must find your own. It means you are free to do so, which not all the creatures of the cave may do. It may be frustrating," he added. "But consider it like this. I cannot change who and what I am. Almost nothing I can do can do that. You, however, have the freedom to." This wasn't an inspirational speech. It was factual, truth, but it was also a sort of encouragement: while Khavur had been given no real purpose at all, that did leave him free to find his own.

Whether that was a good thing or a bad, well--that depended upon Khavur.

He studied his spawn, for a moment. "It is very possible that my intentions for you shaped you. To be strong, to be the best, an example of all that I could create. But what exactly that means for you, if it's true! -is still to be determined."

He paused, thinking.

"If this bothers you it may be worth learning to read, or finding someone who can, and seeking the books of philosophy in Cepheus. I don't know how many we have but I know you aren't the first to struggle with concepts of purpose. And if my answer does not satisfy, perhaps you can find your own." If you seek understanding, advancement, perhaps the purpose I accidentally imbued into you was to always rise higher. Always be better. To improve yourself to perfection.

Now that would be a lofty goal.

"Does this explain it for you? That you--all of you, my first creations and Orthoclase-Alpha's--were not imbued with purpose, but intended only to serve as I found you best fit to do so?"

If so, perhaps he could move on to other things; if not, well.

He had no place to immediately be.

@Khavur

It was a mild, unnecessary correction. Khavur knew where all his siblings had come from, and it had often caused him moments of pondering. The labradorite and the zoisite especially. What they had inherited, in their randomness, came from Orthoclase-Alpha's magic and the stones it had used. Khavur wondered whether there was something to learn there, about the stones or the magic-giver itself. From where did those two get their... well. It was interesting, how you could learn about those who were distant, perhaps even in the past, by the pieces of them left in the present. It was enough to make your heads spin.

But that was another matter for another time. A time when Khavur could speak with them both, which he intended to do, if he were allowed. It looked like, surprisingly... he would be. It was interesting, how he was learning to trust Master Vargas in some way. How easy it was to give into this strange form of trust, now that he need not fear Maximus's opinion. Or perhaps he was being careless. Perhaps, wherever Maximus was, they could hear his thoughts now... and perhaps they were choosing to remain silent, just to see. Just to see Khavur, as they always had, for what he was. It was unfair, not knowing how this worked, not knowing if that was true, not knowing how Maximus felt in return. It was safe, but also a kind veil, an unfair gift. It made it easier to be honest, and that honesty was making it easier to live.

"I will tell you what you are."

The words were so magnetic, so fundamental, Khavur could not outwardly express or turn away. He became an empty vessel to be filled with all the words that Master Vargas would give. Master Vargas would repaint him in a way he understood, with his own cooperation in shaping that image. Words landed on the canvas and splattered, making their mark. Even now, Khavur was incomplete, a beast of clay, and every word that landed and stuck would change him.

The first creation of a new Master.

It was not debatable. It was fact. Now, Khavur understood this fact, the implications of this fact. Master Vargas was a creator of monsters, and Khavur was his first monster. It felt relieving to hear that, yes, essentially this was not all Khavur's doing. This clumsiness and indecision had come from somewhere. It was likely the closest Master Vargas would ever get to admitting to "failure" aloud. Except he did not see Khavur as a failure.

Template. To be strong, to be the best, an example of all that I could create.

Role model. Paragon. A reflection of this Master, of the world he lived in. A reflection that strove to be perfect. How strange it was, to be aware of himself as a product of something, and to lean into that identity. To say "this cave defines me" and also "I define this cave". Everything felt like soft clay. Everything felt soft and malleable. Adaptable.

Servant of this nest.

But before Khavur got lost in the mush of the universe, he realized there was structure, still. The structure he had been seeking. The reason he could not work against his Master, or against his siblings, or against this nest. He was a malleable, adaptable servant, and a servant first and foremost. This made sense to him, and pleased him, and so it was; by either decision, ingrained code, or both, Khavur was a servant of this nest.

Freedom.

That was what Khavur was, and what he... thought Master Vargas deserved to know. "Does this explain it for you? That you--all of you, my first creations and Orthoclase-Alpha's--were not imbued with purpose, but intended only to serve as I found you best fit to do so?" "It does. I have enough understanding to feel... whole. And free." Khavur sat down. "So much so... that it is difficult to stand." Khavur sought out the moving gaze of Master Vargas, remaining, himself, stock still as chiseled stone. "I cannot express my gratitude by any word or act... except by service. If my purpose is my own to find, or to choose... to make exist, then I make myself a servant of this nest, in any way it needs." A pause, as a thought struck him. "I suppose this, too, is a gift; albeit a difficult one. Purpose I can choose is frustrating, but powerful. So long as I have the power to make it work." I have nothing to fight, nothing to fear. I can grow infinitely, and I must do so, for my place is not ensured. It was a different life, and Master Vargas had created it. Khavur would be impressed, if he had any right to be.

"And... your creator. Do you know... their name?" It had not occurred to Khavur that some creatures must have come into being without the direction of the Master, until now. Constructed creatures relying on only their internal code for instruction. Khavur could not imagine what he, himself would have become under that circumstance. He wondered now if that was Master Vargas's circumstance, hence his prodding at details. "I apologize if this delves too deep into your... if this is somehow..." Khavur was not sure whether to be concerned for Master Vargas's feelings or not. He suspected not, but... perhaps it was worth checking. His own feelers went out, an invisible set unaware of its invisible hunter. "I ask for the purpose of better understanding you, as I have said. If you are correct, and some part of me wishes to be a reflection of your abilities, then I suppose that is why your... being, history, whatever it is called... I suppose that is why" you "it is important to me." Does that make me your judge? An interesting thought.

A hand glided up to gently feel the oilstone spires on the smaller head. Despite blinding him partially, they disguised the placement of the stone to which his life was linked. It is as I make of it. And his siblings. This was a power they had in common, wasn't it? More interesting thoughts would have their chance to creep from the woodwork, later.

"I will investigate these books, in Cepheus... when I have the time. Before then, I wish to know if I am still assigned the task of a guard. I never found a place to store food." Now they could safely move back into charted territory. Facts and specifics, ranks and roles. Perhaps it would help with Khavur's reeling heads, cease the centripetal force slamming into Khavur's heart.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Whole, and free. The Leviathan was pleased with this. Those words were good words, positive words; surely this was a good thing. And Khavur's abrupt thud to the floor was pleasing, too. Gratitude? His turmoil had been very real, then. And more serious than Vargas had realized.

Khavur spoke of such freedom being a gift, and Vargas interjected here, with a nod and a firm grunt of affirmation. "It is, and a burden, but it is one you were made to bear." All else aside, Khavur could--should be able to--handle that. "A gift, though--yes, it is that. Not from me; it was not a deliberate choice. But it is a good thing to have nonetheless." Maybe.

Vargas didn't really know. He doubted that he had such choice. The creatures of the cave--those Gembounds that wandered pointless, mindless, unaware of the gods that dictated their fates--had such freedom. They did nothing useful with it. But Khavur? Khavur had been imbued with a strength that they didn't have. A determination. Maybe he would.

The next question, however, from the two-headed Hound-... That one was difficult. Vargas inhaled, a little sharply. If he could have grimaced...

"I know their name," he confirmed, his voice more quiet. "And I apologize if it is important to you but the name would mean nothing to you regardless. You do not know of them. They were gone--fled before retribution could strike them--before the rest of us went into hibernation. The name--even if I were inclined to give it--would tell you nothing."

Belatedly, Vargas realized that his quiet magical observation was being prompted. That Khavur, now, was doing something with his magic. He felt that it was the Hound's native element and wondered, then, if he were indeed seeking to detect Vargas's emotions. He said nothing--but he considered, briefly. What had I just been feeling? Caution. A thread of wariness. Now--quite deliberately--he thought of other things. Betrayals, traitors. He imagined himself striking out at Orthoclase-Alpha, at its horror--and prompted, on purpose, that thread of faint guilt and shame. "It is... a name that leaves a weight around my neck, so I imagine. A legacy of betraying this nest that I have to prove myself against." His words were quiet.

Then he steeled himself, trying to slip back into neutrality. Of his detection of Khavur's little touch he said nothing; his own check was fading now nonetheless, though he tried to maintain it a little while longer. The magic weakened, but remained.

Vargas watched Khavur feel the Oilstone jutting from his skull. Felt a little pity for the beast; it didn't look like a pleasant outcrop, with its weight and its positioning. He wished he could change it, as he had done for Maximus but there was no way; this was not the sort of thing that even he could fix.

Ahh--and Khavur was speaking. Asking if it was still assigned to the task of guard. "If you wish to be," he answered, easygoing enough. Careful, even, in his words. "If it still interests you to be so. As I said, I seek what you and your siblings are good at, are interested in, though I believe I've made that clear," he added; and that wasn't a chastisement so much as an explanation as to why he wasn't going to delve into detail on the topic right now.

"I have a warning for you, then, and a question of my own. The warning is: the definitions I have given you--of strength, of weakness, of failure--these are my own. They are only words; and any creature may have their own definitions of a word. Their own idea of it. Another Master may see physical failure as the failure of a creation, and destroy it--and in context, that is fair. But know that what I tell you is how I see things. Though I believe myself to be correct," he added, a thread of humor in his tone.

"In any case, I naturally must punish you for having abandoned the Forge for a cycle, but let us say that you are to hunt for food to bring the rest of us for the next two weeks to make up for your absence. And my question: for surviving the Deathmatch, you were to be rewarded. What do you choose?" he asked.

@Khavur

It would be his accidental gift. His world, the groove it fit between his shoulders. His inventive serendipity. He could say all of these things, passing on arrogance, forming inheritance with fine silk, because now he could defend them. How insignificant the past helplessness became in the face of so much power. And why had he never before had access? And now that he did have access, just to the ability to see it, there was so much to do...

His magical tethers brought back an abrupt feeling of guilt, shame. Faint. Khavur knew them well enough to register them despite the distance. Whatever the Master had been feeling before, it had not been caught. Whatever he was thinking now, unto Khavur it would not be known. That was enough for the Reaver. The guilt and shame made sense in the context he figured them to be in. Are we all reflections of our creators? Were you his judge, am I now yours? Only because they had that capacity, and that right. Only because their creators had complete responsibility over and for them. Only through that absoluteness of power could the creator hand equal power to the created. It was rare that Khavur ever felt a sense of... compassion? Solidarity? For Master Vargas. It was new, and the newness made his knees tremble. It would take effort to rise again.

"It is alright, to not know." Nothing lost, nothing gained. Khavur should have expected as much from the start. Better to dig, however, than to miss the opportunity. And perhaps it was for the best that cast off names and sleeping dogs be allowed to lie in the dirt. It may wind up a topic for pondering later. What mattered more in the present was Master Vargas, the feelings he had presented, and what that said about either of them. Did it say anything at all?

After a mutual steeling of resolve, Khavur would be able to make that effort. It felt inappropriate to rise internally without rising outwardly. Rise he would, in both regards, to reclaim that role he had almost left behind. He would have spoken then, to claim it, but there was more to be heard. So Khavur listened. Poor Vargas... every attempt at humor fell short when Khavur was in no mood to be amused. Instead, Khavur understood, but remained firm in the ideas Master Vargas had shared. This was groundwork, and Khavur would not allow uncertainty to pull that out from underneath his feet. The punishment came with the mildest of surprise — a surprise that regretted itself and faded so instantaneously it scarcely deserved mentioning. Khavur sooner found it fair, reasonable, and the reward being more surprising.

It considered the options, which slowly began to spring to life in its mind. That's right, the clear cut path... the options. What was its rank? A step above Hound. Proven. He had his name. He had his rights to travel. A trip to Cepheus would be too soon, right? So then...

Procreation.

Procreation.

Khavur considered it now, more than ever before. He had always been hesitant about the thought, tried to avoid it somehow. But now... perhaps he knew enough. Perhaps it was the next step in the equation. It certainly gnawed at his curiosity. How would that look, with him in the mix? How would that turn out? A million more questions, all without answers, and thus they could not be voiced. But they could be brought into reality, with but one request, which Khavur had somehow earned the right to make... "I still wish to be a guard. In that case, my next task should be... searching for a place to store food? I will hunt, without issue. And as for a reward... I would like to claim the right to procreate. To make new life for the Forge."

Would they be his judges? Would they think of him as he had thought of Master Vargas, for the longest time? No. There were many reasons for why that would not be the case, the primary one being that Khavur had learned from mistakes that were not his own. Khavur embodied a mistake that was not his own. He was a role model, an ever-expanding story. Besides that, he would be more careful. More experimental. He would seek to understand. And, with what he had learned from Maximus (or perhaps he had taken it?), Khavur felt he could handle the other parts of the heart that Master Vargas could not.

"Thank you, Master Vargas."

This was not quite judgement. Only prediction. Prediction could be wrong. Khavur felt confidence, however, from several sources. Even the phantom of Maximus encouraged him, somehow. He could stand, and move forward. He could leave, as soon as he was dismissed.

@Vargas (sorry about the sudden quality drop :pensive:)

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Khavur acknowledged his refusal. No harm done, no grudge formed. As a peace offering, Vargas tipped his head to one side, a nod, and spoke quietly. "Should it help you to know this: Lord Dhracia ordered my design. I do not know how much of a hand she had in deciding what I should look like, or how I should be: but she ordered my creation."

He paused, and wondered if that were secret information. He-... doubted it, given when his Lord had told him as much. She'd never cautioned him to hide that fact, at least.

Hm.

"Seek, then. Others have been building living spaces; perhaps they have a building, of sorts, that you can repurpose." And after his little revelation, the Master was a tad subdued, his tone less BOOMING than usual.

Procreation? Interesting.


Vargas studied Khavur for a moment. He approved of the thought, but he wondered what had prompted it. Either way, he offered a nod. "The right is yours. I look forward to seeing your creations." He paused. Corrected. "To meeting them."

He had not wanted to punish Khavur, of course, but he had to remain consistent in all things. If they didn't know what to expect from him, they might reenter that fragile state where the ground seemed to ever shift underfoot and they didn't know what would come next. He didn't want to go back to that; he had to be a rock, stable, true to his word and so he was.

That said, "hunt" was most certainly busywork. Maybe Khavur wouldn't notice.

Ahh-... but his spawn was thanking him. He tilted his head again, exhaled a little, thinking over all that they'd discussed. To Khavur, if the creature was observant, if he was not wholly turned inward now with thought, Vargas might seem just a little drained.

"Thank you for returning, Khavur. We have need of you yet. Find me any time, ask me anything; the worst I will tell you is that I cannot answer. You're dismissed," he added, with a nod.

And that--perhaps?--was that.

exit Vargas? Maybe?

@Khavur

An extra offering was made, for the sake of peace that had already been reached. Lord Dhracia. What is it about Her? What did She wish for? Khavur could only imagine the sadistic and vile creations such a being would have requested. Things that served no other purpose but to kill and destroy — monsters! And that is what She ordered from Master Vargas. But there had to be more to Her than that, if She had requested a creator be made. A personal creator? At first the concept seemed confusing: why commission a personal creator from a personal creator? Then Khavur remembered the original creator's defectiveness, and it seemed to come together. Replacement. Had it been a "bargain with the gods", or had it been inevitable that Master Vargas would end up here?

Khavur supposed that much did not matter to himself, for now. He simply exhibited interest in the name: Lord Dhracia. He nodded to the suggestion of potentially repurposing a building. The progress others had made in his absence would be necessary to investigate.

A few desires and lack of desires had prompted the thought of procreation, but were Khavur to be asked, the reason provided would be a newfound desire to populate the nest with the servants it would need. Master Vargas had said what they yet lacked. Although, pairing things with Khavur might prove detrimental to the desired nature. Offspring might be... inclement. However, with careful selection, they also might not be. Thus came the second desire of curiosity. He looks forward to seeing meeting these creations. They might be people. If they were people, Khavur would want them to inherit that only from himself, if possible. Some lesser Gembound have stones. They would see. They would see. What stone did Maximus use...? They would have to see.

Khavur would notice the fatigue settling in the room. Hence his anxiety to leave. To the dismissal, he would offer a soldierly nod and a "Yes, Master Vargas." And that was most certainly that.

- exit -

@Vargas