Kalani had followed Cuwarr's lead towards the dining table. She was curious as to what kind of food would be served. Hopefully the Drakken menu wasn't as barbaric as their people. She took her seat and waited for dinner to be brought out. She did not wait long before a small Gemminite had stood up in front of everyone. Kalani already had a bad feeling about this. She did not know what was the gem was thinking or what she planned on doing, but it could not have been a good idea. The young gem announced that she was going to perform for them and began to play a flute. Kalani had easily identified the song, as it was the fanfare for the royal Gemminite family. "What an awful song choice for this crowd," Kalani could not help but think.

While the gem had played beautifully, most of her audience did not seem to enjoy her song. One Drakken in particular, expressed his distaste by snapping the neck of another innocent gem. Shocked and horrified by the sight, Kalani let a small gasp escape. She always knew that the Drakkens were a lot stronger than them, but it was just too easy for them to kill them.

Her own husband did not seem to approve of the other Drakken's actions though. Soon they had left the table and were going back to his room. While Kalani did not think that Cuwarr would kill her or her sister bride, the possibility of it was surfacing.

While Cuwarr went to the bathroom to freshen himself up, Kalani walked towards the wardrobe where her belongings should be in. She found her stuff and pulled out a simple night gown. It was much more comfortable than the dress she was wearing earlier. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair. It was a habit she had when she did not know what to do.

Soon, Cuwarr had finished and entered the room in nothing but a towel. Her eyes looked into his for the first time. She did not know how to feel about it though. He seemed stunned by their beauty and did not say a word for a few moments. In other circumstances, she might have teased or raised an eyebrow. This was not one of those circumstances though. When he finally broke the silence, Kalani did her best to smile politely. "You're too kind, my lord," she said.

His next comment however, concerned her a bit. Her strength? Her strength for what? Peculiar tastes? Those things did not seem good. She did not know what she was expecting from a Drakken but she did not think they would... consummate their 'marriage' so soon. She did not say anything as she did not know what to say to that.

[h3]Valence the Cultist[h3]

---

Valence inclined his head in agreement, already working his way through his mental map for the area she spoke of. There was nothing remarkable about it, as far as he remembered. That was good, since it didn't leave him at any more of an advantage or disadvantage than her, and while he might be trying to make some friends, he'd very much prefer to axe them if they turned out to be less than friendly.

"Very well, Lady Sia. Have a lovely banquet, and see you soon."

With that, Valence turned away and left, quickly disappearing back into the throng. He had no intention of participating in the banquet; as-is, his stomach rumbled from the thoughts of what Gems are going to be subject to, in the coming hours. After the banquet- in their temporary rooms. If he stayed in the Drakken's presence too long, he feared he might try to kill them all. That wouldn't do, no, it really wouldn't- it'd blow his cover and set back the Cult. Of course, he'd also be dead or captured, but the Cult would be at a major setback, and that's what mattered more.

The breaking of the musician's head only reinforced his need to get out. His heart went out to the poor Gem, but if he sought immediate revenge, he would not make it out alive. He did take note of the Drakken that did it, though.

So he gestured for his guards to follow him, and he continued on through the crowds, working his way to a side hallway. Quietly slipping in with his guards, he marched his way down the corridor and wove his way to more familiar hallways.

Having reached the area in mind, he gave orders to his two guards. Both of them obediently broke off and went down separate corridors, with the intent to gather intelligence at the banquet, and on anyone leaving. He wanted to know if there were any backroom deals going on, or if there was anyone that couldn't stand that poor girl's head snapping.

Having escaped, he entered one of the storage rooms, where various miscellaneous items were stored, and laid down on top of two boxes- easily large enough to act as a bed, if they had something soft and firm on top. He didn't care so much about the wooden pieces digging into his back, and more about the events of the day. He had an ally in Sia, maybe, and that could lead to greater things in the future.

_{Master Husband of Aerienna Cassiel @RomanAria and Atallia Faeron @NarcissisticPotato}

Lugft smiled as he watched Aery take a drink of Drakken wine, her nose wrinkling at its strong taste after her sister had run from the room. He chuckled contentedly before turning to 'Tal' as she called herself. He saw her eyes a-flame with anger as she leaned forward towards the carvery knife, he never stopped smiling. He knew what she was doing, and he was sure 'Tal' was smart enough to realize that... at least he hoped so. If not things would becomme infinitely more violent. But, even so, he pretended he had not seen it, and pressed the full wine glass to her lips, "You must eat and drink 'Tal', you must be hungry from your like ride here. Besides, you will need your energy soon,Aery seems to understand that... I would follow her example in this case, if I were you.", he leaned in closer to her before continuing, whispering into her ear, "Unless you wish for things to get violent now? No, surely your not so foolish.", before he pulled back laughing.

He looked about the room, seeing the guards chase Aery's sister after she ran from the room, and lords began to retire with their wives intent on getting things started whilst the night was young. Lugft shook his head as they did, it was as if they thought their brides were going somewhere and they had to hurry along and get it over with. He turned to Aery, intent on continuing their little teasing, before noticing she was going purple in the face, seemingly suffocating herself. He growled as he watched this, clearly seeing her sister in such distress was sending the girl into some sort of... panic. He had to stop this. He quickly snatched Aery into his lap, sending heat into his hands, he pressed her throat with one, before crahsing his lips into hers and forcing open her mouth with his tounge, exhaling deeply into her to force her to breathe. After this he pulled back, anger in his eyes as he spoke quietly to her, "You will not take yourself from me understand? It looks like you need discipline sooner than I expected.", he stood, yanking both his brides to their feet and beggining towards their chamber for the night, "Such uncouth and rebellious Gems... it appears you will both require quite a bit of teaching. We will start tonight.", gripping his wives about their waists he made his way to their quarters quickly.

Their room was situated at the third floor of the castle like most other Drakkens, and it didn't take long for them to reach it as he had his arms wrapped about his young brides, leading them to their little apartment. He practically flung the door open, and tossed his brides onto the bed before closing the door behind himself. He turned to look at his two petite brides now on the bed, laughing as he did. He removed his shirt as he began to speak again, revelaing what little of his chest and stomach that could not already be seen, "So, who would like to be first?"

After what she had just seen Kasari's appetite was long gone, the food sitting before her making her feel ill more than anything else. The sound was still ringing through her ears and she couldn't bring herself to even glance over to where the body still lay broken. Shaking her head, the young Gem rose no objection to leaving the dining hall, pushing herself to a standing position quickly. Following after Zakroti, she was comforted by the now familiar presence of Kzaar and Vain, knowing that no other Drakken brute would be able to snap her neck with them around. The thought sent a shiver down her spine but she fought to keep a straight face as she jogged lightly to keep up.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting when they finally arrived, but she hadn't been expecting a fight. From around the men she could see her sister bride huddled over a small rabbit, hugging it close to her chest to protect it from the commotion. The strength and ferocity in Zakroti's voice startled Kasari as they approached the armed Drakken, causing her to drift closer to Kzaar out of surprise. Upon hearing the lord speak, each of the men halted in their dispute, though Trylal looked anything but apologetic. Looking between the two men, she could tell that Zakroti was displeased with what was going on, however he held himself so composed that Kasari could only envy his self control. She probably would have gone off on the man if she were in his position, but instead there were stern but calm words exchanged between them.

Everything looked as if it were going to end well but Kasari couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen anyway. And it did, in the form of Tyrlal almost smashing Miry's fingers as he stamped the flute into oblivion. She gasped audibly as the instrument shattered, her heart breaking for her sister bride as she understood just how much that object meant to her. Unconsciously she looked beside her to Zakroti for him to do something but she knew he would not, after all nothing had been done to his actual property so he had no reason to act. Immediately her eyes fell to the ground, the young Gem shying away from Tyrlal as he passed by the group. She felt horribly for Miry, first her performance was met with murder and now she was being pursued by armed men trying to shed more blood. Luckily they were not given that opportunity, however Kasari had a feeling Miry would have been able to endure more physical pain than the emotional damage done by shattering the instrument.

She turned slowly to look at her sister bride as Vain led her away, the girl looking as shattered as the instrument she once played. Stepping forward, Kasari fell to her knees in front of the remains of the flute and began plucking each shard off the floor. There were so many and each one pricked at her skin but she continued to gently place each one in the palm of her hand. She didn't know why she wanted to collect every piece so bad, as there was no hope for its recovery, but somehow she felt like having all the pieces would make things better. After she had collected all the pieces, she reached into one of the cases she recognized as being one of her own to pull out a leather pouch to keep the remnents in. After stuffing the pieces inside, she went to tuck it back in her chest of clothes only to have something small and scaly jump out at her face. The motion surprised her, sending her reeling backwards onto the floor with a yelp. Pulling a small creature off her face, her shocked expression quickly shifting into that of relief as a small laugh escaped her lips. A small lizard wrapped his way around the back of her shoulders as she sat up, patting his head with a finger as she sat back up.

"Leo! I didn't think I was ever going to see you again, what are you doing here?" She smiled warmly, feeling a little better now that she had something familiar by her side. Looking over Kasari noticed the arrival of a female Drakken for the first time, having recognized her from the claiming and dining hall.

@darkwolf687

---

Sorrin shuffled in closer to Sia as they made their way to the banquet hall, still nervous that another Drakken might attempt to take her away at any moment. Lookin up, Sorrin's brow furrowed together in confusion at her new wife's question.

"What do I think of him?"She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, her face attempting a serious look. While it was the most serious Sorrin had ever looked, her round cheeks and pouted lip made her appear more like a confused child than anything. After a few moments of silence Sorrin looked back up with a beaming smile and a shrug.

"I don't really know. He seems kind of nice but he's a little pushy, that and he's really confusing. He doesn't say what he means but yet his words ring true. That guys scares me a little, but not as much as some of these other guys so I guess he's alright." Sorrin shrugged again turning wide eyes toward the banquet hall. She had never seen so much food in one place before, the sights and smells causing her stomach to growl ferociously.

Taking her seat beside Sia, Sorrin let her eyes wander over all the different kinds of food. There were maybe one or two dishes she recognized but for the most part everything was foreign to her. She had reached out to take a few things from a platter when Sia warned her against the minty green foods if she wasn't a fan of spice. Retracting her hand, Sorrin scrunched her face up at the description of the spice, hating even the thought of something spicy. Shaking her head, Sorrin continued to grab a few things considering them carefully before she put them in her mouth. She found herself gravitating to various exotic fruits, particularly enjoying a round blue one that vaguely reminded her of peaches back home.

Sighing with content, Sorrin sat back in the large Drakken made chair, her feet swinging merrily through the air as they were too short to reach the floor. Her eyes had gone back to wandering about the room, taking in ever sight they could before they snapped over to a small Gem girl holding a flute. From the very first note Sorrin was captivated, always having had an ear for music. The notes flowed beautifully, how she imagined a professional sounded at events held at the royal palace. Even in front of a crowd so terrifying, the girl played perfectly and full of confidence. Sorrin wanted to laugh, but the silence that followed scared her tremendously. It was wrong, after a performance there was supposed to be clapping and praises... But the tables remained silent aside from a single Gem bride down the table from her and Sia. Next thing Sorrin knew, her vision was being shrouded by a hand and her ears plugged to muffle any sound. When Sia finally removed her hands, Sorrin was swept away from the table with a disturbing comment about blood having been spilled. At first Sorrin was confused, looking about for some sign of a struggle where a Drakken lay injured.

"Blood...?" Her voice trailed off as she looked over her shoulder, eyes resting on the broken body of the Gem who had been clapping for the performance. There were bruises around her neck and her lifeless eyes stared off into space from her undisturbed position.

'I-I.... I don't understand. Why would anyone do that?" She squeaked, fighting back sorrowful tears. With a sniffle, Sorrin shuffled along after Sia down the corridor until she caught sight of another Drakken lord. Slowing down to a halt, Sorrin stood off to the side quite confused by the encounter, watching curiously as Sia greeted some lord name Unalim.

@RomanAria

---

Saisri said nothing—there was nothing more to say, really. A faint look of concern settled upon her face, her brow knitting and her mouth tensing slightly, as the little fire gem pulled away from Exon and walked to the fireplace, kneeling beside it. Within moments a warm glow filled the room.

Saisri walked to stand by Nadia, observing the fire. With the orange glow from the flames flickering and dancing on the girl’s face, Saisri had to admit the girl looked beautiful. Maybe not beautiful in the same way the girls from the village of Khele had been. Not the tan, athletic kind of girl that Saisri had grown up around. But lovely nonetheless.

“You have a gift with your fire, Nadia; You have such control and poise with it. I have never met a child of Pyrus who could place her element so precisely where she wanted it. Your grace will be your greatest asset; nurture it.” Saisri smiled down at the little gem, and reached towards the small table where there was a pitcher of water. She drew the liquid out of the pitcher, forming it into a globe in the air, and carefully suspended the silver-looking fluid in the air above the fire, ensuring that none of it would drip.

“I have some herbal teas in my backpack… perhaps some tea before bed?”

She was somewhat startled by the appearance of the woman with the pots of ink and the needles; she didn’t know what she expected for the marking but… a tattoo wasn’t it. Nonetheless, she did as she was told, unbuttoning the top of her dress enough to slide it down and bare her back. She felt no urge to cover herself; in the summer months the girls in her village had run around naked or almost-so, after all. Instead she just stood calmly, waiting for the needle to press into her skin.

---

The entirety of the evening sped past in a blur of shapes, colors, and flowery words. Sorici allowed the events to wash over her, not disturbing her roots. Here she would stand, solidly, and wait for an opportunity to make itself available.

Things didn’t really catch up with her until Cuwarr, until her… husband had gone to the other room to… freshen up, he’d said. Though the girl knew exactly what he was talking about, she wasn’t quite willing to accept that yet.

She watched the other bride, Kalani, out of the corner of her eye; clearly the other girl didn’t exactly know what to make of the situation either.

To the lord’s statement, once he’d emerged again from the washroom, this time without the gauzy cloth over his eyes, Sorici merely dipped a small, respectful curtsy and said nothing. Her gaze was caught by the… objects that the lord was setting up around the room, her ears by the words he spoke. Talking about their strength and how he hoped it would not fail them.

How… interesting. A faint bit of color came to the girl’s cheeks and she bit her lip slightly, not entirely sure what to say. Instead she let the silent hesitation spread, like a canopy, over the three of them.

---

Aery had thought she was doing rather well, letting the blackness wash over her without panicking, for once. But unfortunately, it was not to last; a tongue of fire wrapped around the back of her neck and she had the disorienting sensation of being yanked through the air. The sensation of having her mouth pulled open by a savage kiss was… unexpected, but not entirely unpleasant, in her oxygen-deprived mind. What was unpleasant was the feeling of air rushing into her lungs. As her husband pulled away, fire in his eyes and voice, the tiny girl shied away from him a bit.

Her fear only increased as he seized her by the arm and yanked, pulling her along towards where she could only assume was his bedchambers. Before she had much of a chance to examine the room, she felt the disorienting tilt of being flung through the air, then had all of the wind knocked out of her as she bounced heavily, then landed on the bed, her body unintentionally folding in an almost provocative manner.

The lord asked which one of them wanted to be first. As though they’d have a choice; both would suffer tonight, of that she was sure. The question was, which would be more painful? The searing fire and lust that would be the first round, or the calculating, slow burn, once the blaze had been tempered a little?

Casting a glance to her sister-bride, Aery decided that she was going to take her chances. She raised her voice, though she could not mask the tiny bit of apprehension that tinged her words. “Me, if it please my lord. I would be honored to go first.”

---

Zakroti paused as he examined the Drakken lady before him, returning a short bow towards her and smiling up towards her (because, somewhat to his humiliation, he was indeed the shorter of the pair.)

Lady Siadamkiru Beneni. She had risen to prominence as a slaver just like he has; it seemed to be the preferred accomplishment of the underdog. She had almost certainly offed several of her brothers to get this position she had. Yes, perhaps she could help him

"Of course you may." He said with a smile as he stepped to the side, raising his hand to motion for the group following him to stay where they were so they were just out of earshot of they spoke quietly; He lowered his voice and spoke again "What is it you desire from me, my Lady Beneni? I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before."



Vain sighed quietly as he watched the girl from the chair he had seated himself in, reaching up and removing his helmet from his face and placing it on the table beside him.

"Stop crying. It won't solve anything." He said absent mindedly, noting the damage she was causing to herself with the jagged flute edge and rolling his eyes "Put that down."

When he looked up again, the girl was still crying and had hit her head off the wall in frustration. Well, there was one way to end this.

He stood up and approached her, seizing her and yanking her away from the wall. He snatched the flute pieces from her hand and cast them into the table before him. Then he shoved her towards the bed "Sit on the end of that and calm down. You lost an instrument and saw someone die so you break down? How old are you? Twelve? What did you expect when you were shipped off from your home? You are the bride of a Lord now, little one; Now act like one." Vain counselled, standing over her and keeping his stare locked onto her "You won't fix anything by crying."

He didn't even have to look to realize who was walking his way, taking note of the growing space around him. Turning a scowl towards the man, he made no effort to greet or honor the man's request for he and his sister to leave. Azilon's eyes trailed after the man as he turned his back and sauntered away, maintaining his same contempt expression as he held fast to Aeila's hair.

"Unfortunately, I can't allow that just yet. This little minx, as you call her, has some apologizing to do. So I think I'll keep a hold of her for a little while longer." Everything about his demeanor shouted that he was unamused by the situation, not at all happy for having been interrupted and certainly not interested in having some Royal Snob poke his nose into his business. Not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of an intimidation stare-down, Azilon turned back to looking at Aeila, though he kept a close watch on Rynek out of the corner of his eye.

The young Drakken had heard stories of the man, but despite everything he knew about the crowned prince, he wasn't going to just let the little sprite out of his possession. He was more than just livid... Azilon was intrigued. Never before had he met someone so small with such audacity as to turn around and strike him the way that she had. No, there was no way he was about to let Rynek or anyone for that matter, take this away from him.

Aeila stayed silent the entire time, her wild eyes locked on Rynek and his command for her to come with him. A part of her realised that he wasn't talking to her but for the most-part, she was terrified. Rynek wouldn't leave her with this monster but the monster was challening Rynek and given what he did on the other Drakken, she was worried for her older brother. "Please, just let me go, this doesn't have to-"

"Shut your mouth, Aeila." Rynek had fully turned now, his eyes dark and vicious. His joking attitude was gone entirely - Rynek wasn't just annoyed, he was pissed. No little runt told him what he could and couldn't do; especially not one that relied on dark magic to win. "If she wronged you then beat her. It is our way. Then, I shall take her." Rynek's stare was deadly as he held out an empty palm. His weapon was placed in it almost instantly before he fixed the sheath to his belt. Standing in silence, the hand on the hilt of his blade said all the Prince wanted to say.

Azilon growled under his breath, slowly turning his head to look at Rynek. He didn't have the patience for this sort of thing, but a challenge was a challenge and this one was pretty clear. Rolling his neck, Azilon turned a vicious glare toward Aeila before releasing his grip on her hair.

"Be a good girl and don't move. And you might as well make yourself useful while you're here." He hissed, unclasping his cloak and throwing it over Aeila's head. Underneath the garment Azilon had dressed rather lightly, free of anything resembling armour... However attached to the outside of either of his thighs were a pair of twin blades, both freshly sharpened. Shifting his stance, Azilon rested his hands on the hilts of both his weapons, meeting Rynek's gaze full on for the first time.

"Beating up on something so small and helpless isn't really my thing... It isn't any fun if you don't take your time with it. So I don't really appreciate it when brutes like you interrupt my fun simply because you've already found your entertainment.." Azilon allowed his gaze to shift behind Rynek to the Gemmite bride he had picked out of the group, his head tilted slightly askew.

"That being said, I can understand your impatience. She's quite... stunning." He smirked before returning his eyes to Rynek.

Aeila felt herself squirm in his grip but thankfully, despite the advise from Rynek, he released her hair and let her fall away. She knew better than to try and run because he was armed but that didn't excuse him from using her as a coathanger; which she didn't appreciate. Red-faced, she clambered to pull his cloak away as she looked up to him. He terrified her but there was a power in him that reared its head when he was angry. It scared her but at the same time, it felt so... right.

Rynek, at this point, was eyeing his opponent with some interest. Very few men had the guts to even momentarily resist him and even fewer had the bravery to stay adamant in that resistance. This fellow which his little sister got herself embroiled in intrigued him to no-end and even Rynek had to admit that he didn't want to kill the kid. It would be a shame to steal away such a vicious bastard from the world.

"Listen here, shit-for-brains; I am many things but I am not a brute! Yes, I admit, I am occasionally prone to killing and raping but it's not like we're all innocent of that! Anyhow, the little glorified cloakhanger behind you is very important and I would like if she wasn't broken so quickly or I'm just going to have to clean up the mess and the only mess I'll be dealing with is that hot little thing behind me."

Sighing, Rynek nonchalantly wandered into the middle of the cleared circle before looking around a little. "Between you and me, can we get this wrapped up quickly? I'm sure we both have much better things to be doing!" His blade still wasn't drawn at this point.

Azilon's eyes narrowed at Rynek's words, watching him carefully as he stepped into a space cleared of nervous and/or excited onlookers. Both men stood facing each other, weapons in hand but not yet drawn. Each were a powerful unit on their own, but Azilon knew he was outmatched in strength. Crowned brat or not, the Drakken standing before him had earned his place in the world as had many others around them... Still Azilon himself was a stubborn fool with a dangerous notion to fuel him; a desire.

"Indeed it would seem that we do, so how about you name the terms for our engagement and let's be on our way. We draw this out any longer and we'll miss the banquet entirely." He noted, having realized that the room was emptying considerably now that the reaping was drawing to a close. Off in the distance he could smell the food drawing the parties away with the promise of meat and alcohol.

Rynek chuckled, light-heartedly terrifying as the hiss of steel filled the room. "Terms of engagement? You're starting to sound like a Geminite now, my friend; perhaps you are suited for our little coat-hanger?" Blade in hand, Rynek casually tilted his head towards his sister before returning it to his opponent. "If you win, you can have her. If I win... Well, we'll figure that out when it happens."

Unclipping his cloak, Rynek tossed it aside. His armour spoke lengths of the warrior. It was already painted with dried blood, mud and charred areas where a fire had licked him. He was considerably more armoured than the other Drakken but he seemed to carry it like it was his very skin he was wearing. War was a bitter thing that Rynek spent a lot of time in.

As if from nowhere, one foot landed square and the next launched his blade into a lighting-fast cleave down at Azilon. The familiar ring of steel meeting steel sounded around the room as his attack was readily blocked. And so, their dance began.

To onlookers, their fight was barely even perceivable. Blades arced like lightning before rebounding on each other and lashing back around at another angle. Both swordsmen seemed equally matched but as the fight edged onwards, experience became the dominating factor as Rynek pressed his opponent further and further. The end lasted only a few seconds but was enough to declare a clear victor. Azilon's blade hit true and escaped Rynek, resulting in a long slash along his cheek that narrowly missed his eye. Gritting his teeth in pain, the Prince did the opposite of what his opponent expected - instead of recoiling back, he fired forward and ducked past him, catching his foot on the way. With a turn, he channeled his powers down through his blade, causing it to glow with a red-hot heat as it slipped up Azilon's spine, his flesh offering little resistance to the blade.

The Prince reflected an almost bored look as he allowed his blade to cool before sheathing it. His opponent had fallen to his knees, his twin blades scattered over the floor. Rynek reached for his cheek and grumbled in annoyance as his hand came back covered in blood. "You know how long it took making sure this face wasn't touched!? I had perfected the hot prince look then you just give me a grizzly, war-torn look!" Still mumbling his annoyance, he took the fallen fighter by the scruff of his neck and dragged him back to where his sister was waiting with wide and frightened eyes. Dropping him, Azilon collapsed under them as Rynek fixed his sister with a scathing look. "I should have you whipped for your insolence. But you're not a child anymore and your actions have consequences." Reaching for his belt, Rynek produced a small dagger, wickedly curved for slashing. Aeila took a step back, horror etched into her features.

Growling, he flipped the blade and caught it so the pommel was pointed towards her. "Your consequence." Staring at him, she barely even had time to process what was happening as her hand naturally reached out and took hold of the cold blade. Swallowing hard, her eyes turned to the defenceless man at her feet. Rynek, in the meantime, had turned away. He no longer cared enough to help her any further.

Finding his way to the edge of the crowd, he took his cloak and used it to wipe away at the blood that had trickled down his throat. Throwing it aside once more, he took Lienna by the arm and dragged her away. Something had changed in him. When he had warned her before, his humour only broke for a few seconds but darkness seemed to hug him like a longing lover. His grip on her was bruising and his steps were long and quick, leaving her to stumble after him willingly or not. Something had annoyed him and it was definitely not the scar which had simply been added to his long list of previous wounds. No, it was something entirely worse than that. He had shown weakness - a dreadful sin in Drakken society. No matter how much he tried, no matter how many voices urged him to murder Azilon, he couldn't do it. In handing the blade to Aeila, he had given the boy mercy when he should have let him bleed out. In truth, he didn't want to kill him. Through that cocky foolishness and dumb courage, Rynek saw himself in the boy and he couldn't summon the will to kill him. He knew it would come back to haunt him but he had every intention to let that thought slip away. Pleasure usually drowned out anger awfully well.

They had barely even turned a corner to a quieter part of the castle when Rynek turned on his new wife. With dark eyes, his rough hands found her hips and pressed her to the nearby wall. Breathing through his nose, it wouldn't have taken much for him to reach up and snap her pretty little neck. He did the opposite though. Holding onto her hips, he dragged her up and pushed her legs around himself. His hungry lips found hers with ease.

The adrenaline of battle fueled his actions as he pulled back, a new yet not unwelcome lust in his eyes. "My name is Prince Rynek Darion, High General of the Southern Armies, protector of heirs and killer of kings and I have every intention of fucking you here and now unless you offer a viable alternative." His lips dipped, finding her neck and biting in a rough mark of his territory. This would be fun.

It had been a quite a while since Azilon had had to draw steel, falling back on his more prefferred method of torture on the rare occassions that he found himself in a real fight. However, he knew that against an opponent such as Rynek such tactics would be rather ineffective. It seemed as if in less than a breath the two were lunging for each other, steel clashing against steel in a melodic symphany of aggression and power. He had been expecting the power he faced off against, but the nimble agility was something that caught him by surprise. There were not many he could find that were as fast as him, though to be perfectly honest, he didn't look very hard. For just a brief moment Azilon thought her might have stepped ahead, feeling his blade slice through the flesh of his opponent's face. His relief, though, was short lived as Rynek did the last thing any sane person would do in this fight. Stepping in, Rynek moved easily around Azilon and sliced up the spine of his back, his command over the eternal flame searing the wound as it cut. Growling with pain, Azilon dropped to the ground, blades spiraling away across the floor. Vision hazy, the young Drakken warrior found himself being flung at the feet of the woman he had been escorting only moments earlier.

Teeth gritted together Azilon focused his gaze on Aeila as best he could, glaring up at her in a defiant challenge. He took note of the knife Rynek had handed her before stalking away, apparantly not as untouched by the spat as a victor normally was. Exhaling sharply the man struggled to his feet, the ground lurching underneath him sending him reeling into a bystander that had wandered too close. Shaking his head he looked down at yet another small creature, though it seemed this lass was indeed a Gemminite this time around. Looking around, no Drakken had stepped forward to gripe about his hanging over the woman so he figured she was a late-comer that had been overlooked, seeing as so many were already dispersing to the banquet hall already.

"You don't have any brothers skilled in combat either, do you?" Azilon laughed which turned into a wince, which ultimately left him kneeling on the floor as his muscles protested under his weight. Hissing in pain, Azilon's new vantage point had him face to face with the young Gem's bandaged hand, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Well what happened here, little dove?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, blinking some semblance of clarity back into his vision. Judging by the amount of sweat he could feel beading on his skin, he wasn't confident he had much time left before he was rendered completely useless. Wrapping his arm around the Gem's shoulders, Azilon scanned the area in which he had stumbled from to lay his eyes upon Aeila.

"Hey Sprite, seeing as this is mostly your fault... I think you should be the one to make it right again. Walk with me to my room."

@Ellion@NarcissisticPotato

---

Nadia didn't notice Saisri was standing beside her until the taller gem spoke, smiling to hide her surprise as she was pulled from her thoughts. A good thing, she supposed, as all her thoughts were leading her down a line that she'd probably be best not thinking about for now. Exon had already said earlier that he'd treat them well so long as they behaved, but if something so simple as clapping could be misbehaivior...

Saisri had asked her a question, she realized as the sudden appearance of a ball of water over the fire reeled her back into the moment once again. "Oh, tea sounds great." She spoke quietly, raising her voice to continue, hopefully sounding less shaken than she was. "You have quite a bit of skill yourself, I'm not that good with my element. I'm just, careful." Thankfully she didn't continue that thought with the reason, as she was distracted by the apperance of the new Gem.

She wasn't sure what she should have expected, she knew that Drakkens did mark their brides in some way, though all the stories she ever heard described horible rituals and bloodshed. Something as simple as a tattoo seemed like a blessing compared to what could have been. Just like being chosen by Honey-bear, rather than one of the more brutish Drakken. She smiled at the thought. Perhaps the gods were watching out for her now, she'd have to find a way to thank them later.

Nadia watched as Saisri did as Exon had asked of them, looking away when she realized that Saisri wasn't shy about this at all. She started doing the same herself, turned away from the other people in the room because she was indeed shy, before realizing something. The one flaw of this dress. She and her mother had never made buttons for the back or any other way of putting on or taking off the dress other than sliding it over your head. She would have to take the dress off completely in order to uncover her back.

She slowly untied the strings that cinched up the waist of the dress, and sighed before resigning herself to this. It would have happened eventually, she thought as she pulled the fabric off over her head, her husband seeing her naked. What she wasn't comfortable with were the other two girls in the room seeing her like this. She stayed facing away from everybody, and held the dress close to herself, covering her front entirely. I hope this will be quick...

Atallia reached forward, her hand slipping over the table and coming mind-numbingly close to the small yet efficient weapon when she turned to catch the eyes of her Lord Husband. "You must eat and drink 'Tal', you must be hungry from your like ride here. Besides, you will need your energy soon,Aery seems to understand that... I would follow her example in this case, if I were you.". It was as if he hadn't noticed her at all but Talli wasn't a fool and she knew he had caught her. Her intentions, however, were clearly misjudged as she intended to slit the throat of the Drakken behind them, not this hulking monstrosity that she had to call a husband. "Unless you wish for things to get violent now? No, surely your not so foolish." He continued on and for a split-second, Atallia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her eyes darkened in silent challenge but she looked away quickly and gripped the wine glass, gulping down the wine greedily. She usually hated the stuff but it worked wonders to calm nerves. Not that she was nervous, of course.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the other Bride which Lugft had claimed seemingly began to choke and fall into unconciousness. It would have been a perfect time to grab the knife and go at her husband but she was too distracted by his response as he lifted the small girl and proceeded to press his lips to hers. She could sense the heat from his hands so she guessed that he was using clever magic to bring the not-so-willing girl back. It wouldn't have bothered Atallia if it wasn't for the fact that he instantly decided that going to his bedchambers with them was a good response. "Such uncouth and rebellious Gems... it appears you will both require quite a bit of teaching. We will start tonight."

Her mind blanked as she felt rough hands loop around her waist and drag her to her feet. It couldn't be like this. She had spent her whole life preparing for this, preparing to throw off the manacles which had enslaved her people. She would be a hero. And yet, here she was, being dragged up to a room to become yet another victim of the Drakken war-machine. She wriggled and cast her eyes around the halls, trying to find something that would work as a weapon; anything at all.

Her search was inconclusive and in no time, they were at the door to his bedroom which he quickly kicked open. In a moment, they were already flung on the bed as he began to undress, his taunt floating over them. "So, who would like to be first?" It mattered very little who would go first. They would both suffer that night.

“Me, if it please my lord. I would be honored to go first.” She was beginning to wonder if this girl had a death wish. She was very willingly drowning herself in submission. She didn't know any better, Atallia reasoned, or this was her means of surviving this. She would die sooner or later though - they all did; survival was meaningless. Then it hit her - maybe she was not the one who deserved to have her manacles cast off? Maybe being a hero meant that her sacrifice was great so that others would not have to sacrifice. Her eyes settled to a gentle gold and she felt the sliver of a lie starting to form in her throat.

"You Drakken like to rush everything. If you're going to do something, at least enjoy it." Rolling her eyes, she turned them away from Lugft to the small girl beside her. She needed to give her a chance. A distraction was in order. Sitting up, she shifted slowly before wrapping her nimble fingers around Aery's back and dragging her into a kiss. It was meaningless but it was a good distraction as she pushed the other girl down and leaned over her. Breaking her lips away, her hands moved around until she was holding the back of her head. This was all blocked from Lugft but she only had a few seconds. Picturing the warm embrace of a fire, her hands began to heat as she stared down at Aery. "Go. Do what you did down there. You don't have to suffer tonight. Consider my debt repaid." Her voice was barely even a whisper and could easily be mistaken for sweet nothings as a spark of fire consumed her eyes. "Fall asleep and dream of sweet things." She smiled gently as the heat began to rapidly increase, a silent threat to contrast her gentle words.

Rya liked to think that her plan was working. Most of the other Gems around her seemed to be looking lost and afraid. Which meant that they were easy to prey on. She, however, walked with a purpose. Where was she going? Was it to a very scary and vicious husband? Was she running an important errand? Who knew? On the other hand, the lack of drakken attention could have simply been that none of the drakken found her worthy of their time. This she was also fine with. Perhaps she could wander around the room until everyone else vanished. Hide around the castle until the drakkens had left with their brides, and then wander back home. Surely it would be easier to return home when no one was looking for her.

Her plan might have worked too, if she hadn’t gotten distracted. At first it was by a girl who looked like a gem. Initially at least, but there was something…off about her. She seemed to have been attacked by one Drakken, only to have another one swoop in and...deafen the attacker. With the exception of the high pitch noise, the ‘rescuing’ Drakken didn’t seem to do anything to the man. It was like….the attacking Drakkan simply decided to start bleeding from the ears. ‘Probably uses wind,’ thought Rya, although the how it must work thoroughly escaped her and she wasn’t interested enough to stop and ask more probing questions.

For a moment, she was about to give the ‘rescuing’ Drakken the benefit of the doubt and consider him an okay guy, until he started yanking the….notGem away by her horn. Suddenly, that twisting feeling of anger and disgust returned to her stomach, confirming once again, that there was no such thing as a good Drakken. She turned to move away, only to have her way blocked by a group of brideless Drakken. Not wanting to temp fate, she chose to follow the two, far enough away that they hopefully wouldn’t notice, but close enough that an outsider might thing that she belong with them.

That was a mistake.

It seemed that the pair in front of her just…. attracted trouble. Apparently the notGem had a brother and soon the Brother Drakken had the other one down for the count. She lost track of the goings on, but suddenly found herself playing crutch for the injured Drakken. Off to the side, she could still see the notGem, only now she bore a weapon.

His question caught Rya off guard. For one, she didn’t think he’d care and for another she was a little focused on his body crushing hers. The drakken was heavy, to the point where she would have tried to knock him off, but his sheer weight kept him balanced on top. ”B-Brothers? Well…no…at least, not close enough to matter,” she said, her voice slightly strained, her bare feet drawing the strength to keep standing from the stone. The last things she wanted to do right now was fall. Knowing her luck, the drakken would fall on top of her.

Clearly the Drakken was injured…badly and yet Rya was still too weak to do anything but…bow to him, almost literally. She tried to banish the thought, all it did was stoke the anger she was already feeling. “Oh? My hand? I…was a little upset with being chosen and I broke it….punched a hole through the carriage wall,” Her voice still had an edge to it that she hadn't been able to hide. It was probably unsafe to seem difficult, but if she was about to disappear forever, she wanted her last accomplishment to be known.

Being unable to move much also gave Rya the chance to see the strange girl up close. There was no mistaking that she was a drakken now. A very pretty drakken, but a drakken nonetheless. And that made Rya uneasy “I didn’t know Drakkens could be female,” she said finally as the trio made their way into the much quieter hall. Not ‘quiet’ as gut churning sounds could be heard through out. Gems screaming, crying. Drakkens grunting and moaning. Some speaking cruel words as they did so. “Are you his wife?” she finally managed to spit out, if only to stop the sounds around her being the only thing she heard. Then she wished she hadn’t. Although she was…unfamiliar with how brides were…chose by their husbands. Something told her that this was….at the very least unusual and hopefully unbinding. Finally, the injured Drakken motioned that one of the doors lead to his bedroom. Rya saw a nearby chair and gladly lowered the injured Drakken into it, happy to be rid of the extra weight.

However, once free of her burden, she found that she was unsure what to do with herself. Which made her curiosity start to show. Truthfully, had the Drakken not been on Death's door, should wouldn’t have been so bold, but the fact that he might drop dead any second gave her courage. “So…” she said slowly. “Does…going to your room…make you…my husband?” her voice was oddly calm. ”And, sorry for asking this….if you die, does that make me a widow? Do widows get to go home?” Perhaps there was something to look forward to after all. Then thinking she had forgotten something important added "Who...are you? I mean...what is your name?".


@WeepingLiberty @NarcissisticPotato

Once the wooden stands were placed near the window, Cuwarr grinned at the night sky before turning to his wives as he noticed the faintest tint of pink upon their cheeks. A playful, almost devious smile curved his lips whilst he slowly undid the ties on the towel that hung around his waist. His slender fingers slowly loosened the bindings, one knot after the other in an excruciatingly slow pace. His tongue swiped against his bottom lip before the towel gave way, falling in a crumpled heap at the warlord's feet. Finally, under the moonlight, his prominent... beige shorts. Cuwarr tossed the towel to the side before he went over to one of the cabinets, pulling out three large canvases, setting them on the wooden stands. Another set of wooden cases were brought out with small jars of linseed oil paint of varying colors. A set of wooden brushes also rolled inside the cases which Cuwarr placed beside each canvas, creating some sort of a painting set. As he finished the set, Cuwarr turned to his wives with a grin. "What did you think we were going to do?" he chuckled, a hand covering his laughing lips. As he finished his little giggle, his cerulean eyes looked warmly at them before he stuck his tongue out in a mocking manner. "My perverted flowers," Cuwarr opened the windows more, almost tearing off the curtains. "There is no meaning in copulating without a real goal behind it."

Rich moonlight flooded into the room as fragments of starlight blanketed the jet-black heavens above. Below the skies laid a green and fertile grassland, the reeds and leaves bowed before the wind's caress. Musky scents of earth and nature filling his nostrils as Cuwarr took a deep breath.

He strode over to the window, letting the winds cool him as he rustled his hair to get the remaining water out. "You don't get to see any of these in Drakka." Cuwarr mumbled, now looking at the scenery. "It's either dust, devils, or both." The warlord furrowed his brow in thought as he turned to his wives. "One of your artists sold me these items, but he made me understand something: beauty is more than just a word; it is a perspective. What we consider beautiful might not be beautiful to your race. However, no matter what race, no matter what culture, these vast heavens and lands will always pique our wonder."

Outside of the room, Pezach pulled back his ear from the surface. "There he goes with his lectures. Thank Krenta that Cuwarr has other ears forced to listen to this nonsense." he whispered to the other three.

Qiorach grinned as they began to head down the staircase. "He sounds like a pathetic gemminite when he lectures. I swear, if he wasn't such an eagle-eye, I wouldn't have even bothered serving him. Come, we have more whores to attend to before this night is over. I believe there are some gemminites who were not picked." The lieutenants descended down the stairs, confident that whatever the gemminites would plan, Cuwarr would inevitably foil it.

---

"It is beautiful because it will cease to exist," Cuwarr grinned as he grabbed a 20mm flat paintbrush, dipping it in vine black before spreading the dark shade across the top of the canvas. "I would never forget that artist. Then, I realized the purpose of painters. Their aim is to preserve beauty so that others may see it before it fades away." Finally, he turned to his brides, motioning for them to take a seat in front of the blank canvases. "This will be the last time you will see this part of your land, and I want you to etch this very memory, to paint it as if this will be the last time you shall witness such beauty. Because, it is."

His sharp eyes caught the sight of the flowers still behind their ear. "Oh, and you may take off those flowers, now. My mark has already been left behind your ear. The stems of these flowers secrete a harmless toxin once that discolors your skin, creating a mark of thorns where the sap lands. And, of course, this mark of thorns is the symbol of your allegiance to House Naxremis." And, indeed, they would find forking jagged black lines, in the design of thorns, from the top of their ear before it crescents a few inches from their earlobe.

"No one stops painting until I do," Cuwarr announced before he took a seat, and dabbed a 10mm round paintbrush into titanium white which he used to dot the stars. "And, I suppose you have a lot of questions right now. Talkative gems are not so welcome in Drakka, so while you are here, speak as much as you can. When the three of us are confined in a single room with no other individuals, feel free to talk about anything. Although, I discourage you from conversing freely in the presence of others, not because I am ashamed of liberal gems. No, this precaution is for your own safety. You should know that some drakkens cut off the tongues of gems who talk too much. But, not with me. Be at ease."

Kalani felt a wave of relief when Cuwarr revealed that they were painting. He had done a very good job of teasing them, and she definitely did not see it coming. Kalani approached one of the easels and stared at the blank canvas. As she took a seat, she realized that she had not painted in so long. It was not something that she was exceptionally good at, which was probably why she rarely picked up a brush.

She quickly learned that Cuwarr enjoyed talking. A lot.

He was very passionate about art and beauty. She wondered if his 'strange' obsession bothered the other, less tasteful Drakkens. But she found his story interesting enough even if it the telling of it was a bit grandiose. It made her feel more comfortable. Perhaps they were all more alike than she thought. "Beauty that can be appreciated by all."

They were told to paint this very moment. The last time they are in their lands. Kalani looked out the window and frowned. While they were technically on the border of the two lands, this place was not the Gemminia she knew. Sure, there were some green grass but it was nowhere near as beautiful as what was once her home. Would he be upset if she painted something else? Should she raise her hand and ask him? Dear Vivari, had she reverted back to a young school child?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Cuwarr's comment on the flowers that they were wearing. She reached out behind her ear and took it off. She had almost forgotten about it. She admired the rose that was in her hand. So there were still flowers in Drakka? She could take pleasure in that.

She grabbed a paintbrush, a medium-ish one, and dipped it in a deep black. She painted some lines that were supposed to be the window that they were looking out. "Thank you, my lord. You are very kind. Though I've never been that talkative. Nor have I ever been one to ask a lot of questions. This situation seems too foreign and honestly, ridiculous for me to question anything," she admitted while continuing to paint. "But I do enjoy listening to you, my lord. Perhaps we should take turn sharing stories of our lives before today, if you so wish."

She bit her tongue, realizing that she probably should not have spoken for her sister-bride. She might have had some questions, though she had been awfully silent this entire evening. "I'm sorry, Sorici. I hope I did not speak over you if you had any questions," she said.

Exon took to the bed while he watched his wives, Saisri and Nadia, interact. Mentally, he tried to say their names whenever possible. As though saying them out loud made them more of a concrete being and less of an abstract idea of something happening someday. While the artist set up her tools, Saisri and Nadia set about making tea. He had to admit that they complemented each other well.

Soon it was time for his wives to strip down to take his mark forever on their skin. He felt no need to turn away from either of them as they undressed, after all, they were his to touch. It was unsurprising that Saisri made much less of a fuss, sliding her dress down to her waste living her back bare. After seeing that, Exon almost regretted that he chose to wait to have her, or, a least, his body was. His brothers urge to take their wives too fast was the reason that more than one of them chose to leap from a tower. Or slice their own wrists, or simply die of what could only be explained as sadness. No, he planned on waiting until his wives were…rehomed before giving them more reason to fear or hate him.

Unsurprisingly, Nadia was a lot more reluctant, and rightly so, she had to strip completely naked for his orders to be followed. “My light,” he said softly from across the room, calling to Nadia from his bed. “Turn and face me,” he waited until she did before saying. “This seems odd now, but in time it will become…familiar to you. However, for the time being, I must command that you do not try to hide from me,” He held the Gem’s gaze while the woman started working on Saisri tattoo. The imagine being carved was that of his own simple personal seal. He had ordered the woman to place it on Saisri’s left shoulder and Nadia’s right one.

The woman was very quick with Saisri’s, taking less than half an hour to mark the girl. After showing it to Exon briefly for his approval, the woman dressed it with healing herbs and wrapping it in a long clean cloth. Were it not for the fear of infection, Exon would have ordered Saisri to start keeping that shoulder bare for the rest of her days. He found he liked seeing his mark on her more than he expected, having intended the mark merely as a measure of safety. Incase his wives were ever separated from him, all who found them would know who they risked pissing off by harming them. But that could wait until they were closer to home. Once the woman had finished with Saisri, Exon summoned her to his bed without giving her the chance to redress herself. Exon pulled her unmarked shoulder close to him, so that she rested in the crook of his arm , both of them being held up by a mountain of pillows that allowed them a clear view of Nadia, who was now getting marked.

“You might appreciate your new home,” he said, because he wanted to talk about himself and not to give Nadia something to focus on other then the pain. “It’ll take a week and three days to get there, but I plan on us sleeping on the road for only a few of those nights. If all goes well, we’ll be at Sand Castle, my uncles manage it. The land is bearable in the spring and fall, but hotter than hell in the summer. I liked to climb the rocks there when I was younger, they’re impossible to slip on. Then from there we’ll go to Xe’Jah Castle, where you will meet my Lord Father as well as Atreyu’s remaining wife. When you meet my father, be sure to cower properly, or he won’t think I’m disciplining you enough,” He then paused. Thinking over the rest of the journey. “Then we travel high into the mountains to Lost Lake Castle, that is my, and now your, current home. It is bitter cold in the winter and it is always snowing, you will be kept in the castle. It is heated using the hot springs below the castle, one of the little perks and the only ways to get warm in the winter is to take long baths down there. But during the summer, we can go hunting….” He talked on and on until the woman had finished with Nadia and she too was summoned, still naked, to his bed. Once Nadia was by his side, he wrapped his free arm around her.

"Rest easy, little wives, I do not plan on taking you tonight, although I regret much deciding to take this path. But I would like our first time to be...if not willing, at least without fear,"

Saisri bit her lip as the needle dug into her flesh repeatedly, etching some design into her skin, causing a stinging burning to radiate outwards from the left shoulder. For a while she tried to follow the shape of the design, imagining the curves and bends in it, but as the design progressed it soon became impossible to track.

All of a sudden the woman had taken the needle away, cleaning it, applying a cool salve to the raw skin, then a bandage to protect it. Then Exon beckoned her over, and she obediently went to him, trying to hide the sudden tremors that came into her hands. She obediently went to him, letting him pull her down onto the bed and knowing better than to try to conceal herself as her dress (which had still been somewhat clinging to her hips) slipped off entirely, landing in a gem-encrusted heap on the floor.

The girl found that she almost liked being pressed against Exon, the heat and strength that he radiated being comforting and grounding. Like the sun-warmed rocks that she always used to lie on, beside the lake in the summer. Between fishing and swimming and canoeing, when she’d sprawled out on the rocks to relax, next to her brothers wrestling in the sand.

From her husband’s warmth and the rumble of his voice in his chest, Saisri almost felt herself drifting to sleep. It was easier to drift, afloat on sunwarmed waters, than it was to watch her sister bride in pain. She supposed the small, seemingly fragile fire gem next to her would be less able to withstand pain, after all, and if there was one thing Saisri hated, it was seeing others suffering and not being able to help.

But soon enough the girl was tattooed, and she was pulled down to Exon’s other side. The large Drakken reassured them that he would not be… “taking” them that night. Saisri couldn’t help but wonder what the other brides must have been going through; this seemed like a very odd decision for a Drakken to make.

She noted that it seemed like a good time to make a response, and opened her mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it as she realized she had nothing to say. Instead her sapphire eyes lighted on Nadia, hoping the other gem might have some way to break the awkward moment.

---

Sorici was quite relieved when she realized the elaborate act had just been an act. The stands were for canvases; they were supposed to paint.

Well, that raised another problem. She’d hardly had a chance to learn any sort of art form, save for combat. Though she supposed that combat was as good of an art form as any…

The girl snapped herself out of her thoughts, looking up at Kalani and Cuwarr, both of whom had started to paint. She shook her head, looking at the array of brushes and paints laid out before her. “Paint this as though it is the last time you will see your homeland, for it is.”

The girl listened to the conversation for a moment, idle conversation about beauty. She had to suppress the urge to snort: Beauty was such a fragile, idealistic thing. The kind of thing that was broken by cruel Drakken, raped and tortured and tossed aside once it ceased to exist, the kind of thing that was met with fear in the Gemminite realms, that was suppressed and dulled until it was a brittle, easily broken creature. Not honed and sharpened and polished like a fine blade, not gleaming like burnished steal armor. That was what beauty was: the swift, purposeful motions of a hunter, without all the purposeless ornamentation of a dancer; the elegant, refined shape of a well-crafted suit of armor, devoid of the frills of lace and jewels of court wear. Simultaneously a sword, a banner, a shield, that’s what beauty should have been. Resilience, unyielding grace. To talk of flowers, easily broken, easily torn flowers, as “beautiful”. What absurdity.

Nonetheless, she’d try her best to do as she was bid. Try her best to do what was expected of her, rather.

Taking a rather small brush she went to dip it into the gray paint, not exactly knowing what she was doing. She picked up far too much pigment on her brush, of course, and made a mess in trying to wipe some of the excess off. Finally she gave up on wiping it clean and brought it to the canvas, intending to draw a straight line resembling the edge of the windowsill. But the line was shaky and jerking, not all the same thickness, bending outwards in the middle. Frowning, the girl tried again with a second stroke, but only succeeded in making an awkward horizontal stripe.

Well, clearly representing what she was seeing wasn’t working… so… representing how she was feeling?

She dipped a different brush in a dark red color, pulling another streak across the canvas, not caring as it wobbled and jerked. Finally she flicked back to the conversation, just in time to hear… Kalani was… apologizing?

Sorici flicked back over the previous conversation for a moment, then quickly replied, “No, no, it’s quite alright, Kalani. I am not much of one for conversation myself… it’s all been so overwhelming that I can’t imagine asking questions, not right now at least.” She inclined her head to the slightly taller girl, then turned her gaze back to her painting, which was now beginning to bloom in shades of sad blue and green and angry red and orange. The streaks were still shaky, sure, but it now looked, well, almost intentional. The mess that had become her art supplies and her shaking hands indicated that it was at best a happy accident, though.

She tensed up, somewhat belatedly, as she finally realized that Kalani had been talking about sharing the past, and quietly scrambled to come up with a believable lie. She had no idea how much Cuwarr would know about her, but… she felt as though she had to keep the cult a secret.

---

Sia hesitated for a moment, looking back to the small, distraught girl that was her bride. A split-second decision resulted in the Drakken woman stepping back, away from Zakroti for a moment, to wrap her arms around the crying Sorrin tightly. Sia pressed her lips to the top of Sorrin’s head, rather in the way an older sister or a mother would. “Because they’re bad, vicious people, Sorrin. Some of them are like this. I’ve killed many that are like this, but I would never, never harm you, nor any of your sisters. Trust me, Sorrin. Please. I will keep you safe. I will try to keep the people of Gemminia safe.”

Then she released her bride, with a faint smile on her face, and turned back to Zakroti, following him down the darkened hall a ways. She did her best to look at Zak evenly, seemingly pretending not to notice that he was rather shorter than her.

She weighed her next words carefully. “Sometimes, those who are lacking in brute strength are not content with their station in life—You and I are both living proof of this. But the underdog cannot outright challenge the alpha, not without losing his head in the process. No, the underdog must rely on trickery. Must flirt with trespass and treason. It takes the highest risk for the greatest reward, after all.”

Sia smirked faintly, her eyes never leaving Zakroti’s face, trying to gauge his reaction to what she next said. “I’ve arranged for a little meeting with some… people of interest. They had a proposition of sorts; if they mean what I think they do, they’ll be glad for extra numbers. And I will be glad to have an ally at my back, should things not work so neatly as they are supposed to. I wish I could tell you more, but… the halls have ears. And I would rather we manage to survive the night.”

---

Aery was expecting plenty of things. She was not expecting Tal to pull her close into a kiss, and certainly not expecting to then be flipped onto her back, looking up into Tal’s smoldering golden eyes. She whispered something about debts being repaid, and sweet dreams, but her hand at the back of Aery’s head heated. First gently warm, then meltingly hot, soon approaching painful.

Aery shook her head slightly, just a slight tilt from side to side, as her hands wrapped around Tal’s back, one hand’s fingers digging into the girl’s back and one hand’s digging into her hair. Her body arched, seemingly pressing against the other girl’s in a most suggestive, needy way.

Internally, the girl’s heart was racing. She knew it was just an act, of course, but all the same… Hot (both in form and in temperature) girl straddling her, kissing her, whispering in her ear? It was like the stuff out of dreams. Ever since she’d been a little girl, always sharing a bed with Miry, often wrapped around her twin in suggestive ways, she’d had dreams of things that could happen—of course, ones that she’d suppressed in shame. It didn’t seem like Miry had ever really, well… developed, at least not normally. She seemed still like a child, not talking about, or seemingly even thinking about such things, instead always worried about her flute and keeping Liiren happy—Aery stopped her internally tumbling thoughts before they could get out of hand.

“If only there was time for this without watching eyes.” she snapped out of her head and mumbled the words out loud, loud enough for Lugft to hear. With the one hand that was mostly masked in Talli’s hair, she twisted the air currents to shape the words into, “No, I won’t leave you to suffer with this monster.”

She sensed things were heating up (literally), so she pulled a curtain of air between her head and Talli’s palm, hardening it into a shield of sorts, and then proceeded to kiss the other girl again, in the process trying to suck the air from her lungs with her magic.

Sacrifice was a beautiful thing, after all, and having the power and strength to go through with it was an even more beautiful one.

---

Miry choked as Vain yanked her to her feet, sending the piece of the flute flying onto the table, and probably cracking it again. The guard all but threw her onto the bed and stood over her, staring down at her, causing her to make an odd squeaking sound and look away, scrambling to sit up again, be in control of herself. She definitely hated it when people threw and pushed her around, made her feel like all her control went out the window.

The guard counseled her on how she should be acting, reprimanding her for acting like a twelve year old. Of course she knew he was right, rationally speaking, but… Rational thought refused to flow at that moment. The girl wiped her eyes, trying her best to meet Vain’s gaze evenly, with minimal success. She sniffled, trying to calm her breathing, trying to will the words to form. “It’s a shock, that’s all.” Trying to rationalize it. But as before, no words happened, and she weakly groaned, flopping her face into her hands, the tears starting anew.

She’d heard about this before, they’d called it “death-shock” or some-such thing. Often afflicted gentle people, the first time they’d seen something violent and gruesome. Sometimes they went blind, sometimes deaf, sometimes mute. Sometimes all three. Sometimes stopped functioning entirely. Usually it resolved spontaneously. Sometimes, it was permanent. Not anything the afflicted one could do about it except make peace with what happened and try to stay calm. Panic makes it last longer. Panic induces other symptoms.

Miry wiped her eyes again. Now that she had a name for it, it was better, now that she knew what needed to happen. She stood up and walked to the desk, reaching for the inkwell and a piece of paper. She was short enough that she could stand and still use the desk properly, so she started writing while leaning over the table.

Her letters were small and neat when she finally held up the paper for Vain to see.
And tell me, what am I supposed to do as a Lord’s wife? Besides be a little pretty fragile thing attached to his arm wherever he goes? Little pretty fragile things are supposed to be weak and soft and delicate. Are supposed to be the kind to cry about little fragile broken flutes and little fragile broken necks, devoid of thought other than how SAD it is. I’m not supposed to cry because I’m angry and ashamed of myself, am I? Not supposed to worry about that poor dead girl who was my friend-- I’m not supposed to worry about her family, not those eight little orphan girls that she somehow fed from her wages as a kitchen maid and sometimes-violist, am I?... I’m not supposed to try to make sure my sister doesn’t get herself killed, am I? That my brother and father won’t have to die for my own stupid, stupid actions? I’m supposed to be a pretty little thing, like a doll— a plaything to warm a Lord’s bed and rub his feet and cook his dinners and do whatever I’m told and not think, and not worry, and certainly not act? Excuse me for not fulfilling these OH-SO-PERFECT demands!

Once she was sure the guard had read the paper, she pulled it back, her tears shining with anger, and scribbled another three words, then sighed, scratched that out, and wrote again, her letters more carefully formed.

Someday, you’ll see.

Forgive me for being a breakable, stupid, naïve little child. But don’t ask me to be a Lord’s “perfect bride” again. Have you even looked at me? There is NOTHING that I can offer a lord in terms of the usual demands. A painfully plain, tiny, underdeveloped excuse for a young woman. But if my lord had wanted a girl for her looks, for her more conventional… skills. He would have let me be carried off over the shoulder of the Karstagg heir.

Do not speak to me of being perfect, do not speak to me of acting like a “proper” lady.

One of my friends, maybe one of my only friends, has been dead for less than an hour, and she is going to be buried out here, far from her family and her gods, left to rot like some animal, not brought to rest against the Great Mother’s heart as she should be. Her soul left to wander on this side of the spine, cut off from the rest of her people. No one to know what happened to her. And I am not allowed to grieve? Am I not allowed to cry? Crying solves nothing, just makes you remember—well, I don’t intend to let the world forget Astrae Rosalin Silverheart.

She put the paper down again, weariness in her face. Put the quill back in the inkwell. Curtsied slightly to Vain, then resumed her seat on the bed, looking away from him, resting her head on her knees, more tears periodically leaking out of her eyes. But it was under control now, moreso than it had been before, at least. Writing, like speaking it, had made it better. But had maybe been even more satisfying, because the evidence of her words was still there.

---

Nadia had been studying the pattern of bricks that made up the wall she was staring at, it was almost calming to focus on something so mundane. But then Exon called out to her. At first she stiffened up, gripping the dress more tightly in her hands. As she did she actually saw her hands for the first time since the brutish Drakken from earlier had tried to take her away from Exon.

Just as she'd thought it would earlier, the dark colored bruise around her left wrist and hand stood out like ink on paper, or ink on skin as the case now was. She covered the bruised hand with the dress she was still holding and, probably having already waited long enough to anger Exon, turned to face him as he'd asked.

She felt herself pale at his next words. Oh please no. She took a breath and lowered the dress, the air around her heating up in her embarrassment. After a moment she dropped the dress on the ground and held her hands behind her back, doing so quickly enough that she was sure none of them had seen the bruise on her hand. She kept her eyes downcast. The bricks that made up the floor had a similar pattern as the ones on the wall did.

After what felt like forever, the other Gem finished with Saisri's tattoo and Exon called her over to him. Nadia glanced at the tattoo as Saisri walked over. It was a simple enough design, and looked almost pretty against her sister-bride's tanned skin. Once Saisri was on the bed with Exon, the tattooist walked over to Nadia and started to place the same tattoo on her right shoulder.

At the first prick, she jumped away from the needle and earned herself a scolding yet understanding look from the tattooist. How had Saisri been able to stand this for so long? She forced herself to stand still as the tattooist continued, each poke sending a small wave of pain through her shoulder as the area became slowly inflamed.

She ended up closing her eyes and listening to what Exon was saying to try and drown out the pain somewhat. The way he spoke reminded her of how her father would speak about his many trade routes, how he'd go to this town or that, and make sure to visit wherever or whoever. She would imagine going on his trips with him when she was little, and a few years ago he finally started giving in to her constant pleading to tag along. He'd never taken her outside Gemmina's borders, so this would be new for sure, but as Exon described their planned trip she could imagine the scenery almost as easily as she had her father's stories so long ago.

Once the tattoo was finished the tattooist put a salve and bandage on it just as she had for Saisri, and then gathered up her tools and left the room. Exon stopped talking when he noticed this and beckoned her over to him as well. For a few seconds she couldn't move, frozen in place by fear before she remembered, her life's already over. It was the second she was taken from her village.

She walked over, still visibly trembling, and sat on the bed on the other side of Exon than Saisri was. Exon soon pulled her closer to him and wrapped his arm around her, effectively trapping her there. After a second Exon spoke again, and while it was a relief to hear, it didn't stop the burning fear or need to run and hide that she felt.

There was silence as Nadia started trying to calm down. Her shoulder hurt, and she was extremely uncomfortable with the situation, and she couldn't stop shivering despite the fact that she knew the air around her was being heated by her emotion. After a small time that felt like it dragged on for much longer than the few seconds it had been, She noticed Saisri's gaze on her. Her own Hazel eyes met those of her sister bride for a split second before she had an idea what to say.

"H-honey bear?" She cursed herself mentally for stuttering, but also wanted to smile. She was beginning to like calling him that, and he'd not said anything about it yet so he must be fine with the pet name. She could almost close her eyes and imagine him as a bear, although it was a bit of a silly image.

"Earlier, after that Drakken tried to take me away... I'm s-sorry, I l-lied to you." She could feel herself calming down, the heat around her slowly dying, though tears were poking at her eyes and threatening to spill over. "I, just didn't want you to hurt him anymore. I'm sorry. I knew I would get a bruise but I just-" She cut herself off, both because she didn't really know what to say next but also because she would have started crying if she had continued. She didn't want to cry now.

She had been holding the bruised hand in front of her with the other wrapped around it to hide the deep purple blotches, but now she moved it up into the air above her so they could all see it. In the soft red glow of the fire she'd set earlier her skin didn't look quite so pale, at least not from her perspective, but the bruises looked darker too. She stayed like that in silence, waiting for Exon's reaction.

---

"As you wish," Cuwarr grunted as he blanketed the top portion of the canvas with deep streaks of raven paint. "My story begins as any drakken bloke. My father, a proud but cowardly drakken, took-- no, stole-- a gemminite and did with her as he pleased. I came into existence soon after. Stezius, my father, was a weak bastard. I am willing to wager that either of you could face him in battle, and you'd still win. But, he had an eye for craftsmanship--specifically, weapon-smithing. What material to use to forge the perfect blade, how hot the iron must be before being struck. Give him any steel, and he'll forge a blade within a matter of days. But, he, himself, was too cowardly to hold one. Long story short, he tainted the Naxremis name and I was left to inherit his dishonor. He squandered everything he built, and for what? He didn't know. There was no purpose other than pure indulgence." For a second, Cuwarr's hand trembled as he gritted his teeth in what seemed like rage. "I've lived for over a century, but I spent more than half of it trying to rebuild my clan. That's why I believe that purpose breeds beauty."

Cuwarr's shoulders relaxed before he turned to his brides. If there was something that kept the frail gemminites endearing to his heart was the fact that he was closer to his mother than to his father. Although still cautious, Rea, his mother, eased Cuwarr's wounds after his training. She enlightened him to the ways of art and to the ways of finding beauty. However, like a flower that blooms in adversity, it fades away earlier than those who beheld its allure. When Rea died due to old age, Cuwarr swore to only rest his eyes on those who manifest the same radiance that his mother did. Hence, he crafted an eyepiece from the same gemminite cloth that his mother used to wipe the blood off of his skin. At this moment, he saw his mother in these two brides who couldn't be more different than one another. Still, they possessed the infuriating timidity that their puny race had. Sure, other drakkens were turned on by a docile gemminite, but fragile things had no place in his household. He would soon teach them that. But, for now, they deserved a fractal of peace for they would have less than a shard of it back in Drakka.

"Again, I repeat, beauty is a perspective but everything beautiful possess two similar traits: purpose and meaning," Cuwarr stood up before he stretched his arms, feeling his bones crackle and relax. Then, without warning, he strode over to his wives' paintings. Truth be told, Cuwarr felt giddy and happy that someone else was painting besides him. In the past, he only painted with his shadow. He wouldn't admit, of course, that he was as happy as a babe but, perhaps, the goofy grin that slipped past his restrains for a second could give evidence of that. In a flash, his eyes landed on Sorici's painting. It looked nothing like the fascinating night sky but it didn't mean that the solid, rich red and orange strokes of the brush which gave off the feeling of rage and spite; and the deep blue and green that felt melancholic with a tinge of hope failed to captivate the warlord. If anything, he felt a smolder deep inside him that was akin to awe. "You're a fighter, are you not, Sorici?" Cuwarr chuckled before he placed a gentle finger on the drying furious red streaks. "I feel your hatred from this shade of crimson. I understand that you hate my race that much and I won't stop you from doing so, but if I could change your hatred towards me, then, I believe that is beauty in itself." he placed a reassuring hand on her left shoulder. However, Cuwarr knew that he needed to change that hatred, but not because he was scared that Sorici might stab him in his sleep (she was a hundred years too young to be able to kill him), but because, simply, hatred was motivation without purpose.

Finally, he reached Kalani. Her painting also didn't resemble much of the scenery but the mixed streaks, almost as if hesitating to paint something else, enthralled Cuwarr. As of the moment, Cuwarr knew that Kalani had no intention of painting the meadows here, but instead, perhaps, the meadows back at her home. "You hesitate to paint what your heart tells you," Cuwarr smiled as he softly grasped her hand before leading it to rest near her temple. "This," he referred to her mind. "Is what creates hesitation and ugliness." Then, he shepherded both of their hands over her heart. "This," he paused. "Is what creates purpose, clarity and beauty. Listen to it." Cuwarr looked at her messy canvas again before also placing his hand on her shoulder. "From your hesitation, I would guess that you look back on the past. After all, the reason we hesitate is because of something that happened in the past. But, remember, we always need to keep moving forward. I understand that you will miss the familiarity of your home back in Gemminia, but if you could also make my home as yours, then, that also is beauty in itself. Home is where the heart is, no?"

Perfect. Everything was perfect. They were the perfect brides. They both had their own perspective of beauty, and Cuwarr could not ask for anything more.

"A lotus that looks to action to change her future and a rose that looks at the past to guide her present," Cuwarr mumbled as he took a step back. Coincidentally, the drops of moonlight focused on his two brides as if telling Cuwarr that, hey, these are the ones you were looking for all these decades. "Good. Good." he mused before clapping his hands. "I think that is enough for now. You have been through much tonight. You may rest your souls now. Go on." he directed them to the large bed beside the window. As for Cuwarr, he took one last look at his painting and realized how everything clicked into place at this moment. Coincidence? Perhaps so. Without thinking, Cuwarr had painted the hovering night sky being pierced with luminous moonlights that enmeshed two painting gems. One, chestnut-haired and the other auburn. The exact same scene that he was seeing now.

He let out a strangely strangled moan of satisfaction, feeling the hairs on his arms tingle. "Perfect."

With that, Cuwarr closed the windows before hopping on the extremely soft and cushion-y bed. He situated himself in the center of the bed, big enough to fit all three of them (it was drakken-sized after all). Then, he patted each side, beckoning his wives to sleep beside him to perfectly conclude this perfect moment. Things were clicking into place, and perhaps, these gems were the answers to the problems he had within. Cuwarr knew that as the night wanes, they might begin to hear some pained shrieks coming from the other gems whose husbands were more brutal. He wanted to spare them that torment of hearing their sisters cry out to deaf ears. If anything, he wanted to make sure that the same thing would never happen to his gems.

Vain folded his arms as he watched her write and let out a heavy sigh; Gods' blood, the girl couldn't even speak to him! She was not going to last a day if she didn't shape up quickly. Finally, she approached him and showed him the piece of paper that she had been writing on.

He read over the paper in silence before raising his gaze to her, tearing the paper in two and casting it to the floor. So she had some spirit to her, she just needed to harness it. He approached her and leant in close, cutting through her sobs with a sharp voice

"Aymiria kree! So is that how the women do things in Gemminia? They act like pretty perfumed things and do nothing useful all day? Or is that the lords? I can never tell with you Gems; You're always too weak, you're always too feeble. You worry about your friend's family and those eight little orphan girls? Then you get yourself together and do something about it. Send those orphans your money, they can't eat your worry or tears. Your sister won't be kept alive by crying. I didn't ask you to be a perfect bride so remove those quotation marks from that phrase; It's not a quote. Stop fighting a man of straw and listen to what I am actually saying. You have a responsibility to the dead girl. You say you were her friend? If one of those lord's snapped the neck of my friends, I'd punish him for it- And yet here you are moping."

"Oh and you're not a wife, you're a bride; There is an important legal distinction in the western lands. I thank Vivari you aren't my lord's, I cannot imagine the state you would leave the aigzgandra. You would run it into the ground I suppose." Vain realised he was digressing and quickly brought his speech back to the matter at hand.

"Do you want to be regarded as anything more than a little fragile thing? If so then do something about your woes instead of crying to yourself about them; There are a pair of Unalim guardsmen outside the door, summon them and command them to get your friend's corpse sonit can be sent back to her family. Prove yourself a woman and not a child or people will push you around forever, people will hurt your friends with impunity and destroy your belongings without a care in the world. You have spirit enough to write this note to me and so I know you have spirit enough to act like a woman."



Zakroti watched quietly as the Lady Siadamkiru comforted her bride. He said nothing but took not of her actions and used it to judge what he could about her character. He cast a glance back towards his entourage to examine the reaction of Kasari to the occurrence; He was still working her out and noticed for the first time the small lizard she had with her, presumably it was what she had recovered from the storage room... so both of the Gems had pets then. Curious. He turned his head away after a few seconds and back towards Lady Siadamkiru.

Finally the Drakken lady turned away from the young girl and back towards him and appeared be doing her best not to slight him; He appreciated the effort at least.

He listened to what she had to say carefully, raising an eyebrow after her little speech about underdogs; He unclasped his hands from behind his back as she continued, glancing towards one of his Blackguard. Some people of interest was not exactly an encouraging phrase. It was very vague and the next comment out him slightly on edge given that the Lady clearly wasn't particularly trusting of these individuals, though he endeavoured not to show it and pushed it from his mind; After all, nobody trusted anyone here in Drakka. Nonetheless he would make sure that he was accompanied by a good entourage of his men rather than risk meeting these individuals alone.

"You are very mysterious but I shall be glad to act as your ally in this affair if it goes astray and would very much like to hear it out myself. As you say, our path is guile." Zakroti remarked after a short pause, clearly considering what she was saying carefully; A small smile played across his lips as he spoke, crossing his arms in front of him "And where, pray tell, is this meeting to take place?"

@Weepingliberty@RomanAria

Master Husband of Aery Cassiel@RomanAria and Atallia Faeron@NarcissisticPotato

Lugft was... extremely surprised at his brides to say the least. They appeared to be lusting for one another which certainly made things infinitely more interesting. As Tal seemed to take the initiative, tackling Aery to the bed and kissing her intensely, she placed her hands at the back of Aery's head, and he could feel her running heat to them and the back of Aery's head. Then, the smaller Gem took the initiative, though her mumbling about being, Without watching eyes, made Lugft more than a little angry, seeing as he was privy to whatever his wives wished to do or were doing, they were his after all. However, he began to grow rather impatient watching the two go at it, it was only making him more excited after all, and he wasn't here to watch.

He made his way to the bedside and grabbed Tal's hair. He yanked her up, out of the kiss she had been in with Aery and forced her to face him. His cruel, animalistic smile had returned and he leered at her a moment, before crashing his lips to hers. For a few moments he kissed her deeply, even using his tounge, before he placed a lone finger at the back of her neck, and pressed. He knew this was a delicate spot, were he a younger and less experienced Drakken he could kill or paralyze her, but he applied just enough force to hopefully stun her and knock her out. He pulled his lips away from her as he did so, and flung her to the back of the bed wether he had knocked her out or not, if she was still concious she could watch. He then turned to Aery, grabbing her arm and yanking her to him. Like Tal, he kissed her deeply, but this time he did not knock her out, instead pulling back to smirk and simply say, "To the quicker go the spoils", and laughed loudly, hopefully now they could begin.

Barely supported by the small creature, Azilon drew the eyes of a few other Drakken who snickered at the sight of him. Though his snarled responses kept them at bay, as if they could sense the dangers that even a wounded Drakken could bring. Somewhere along the way he heard the Gemminite's voice though it wasn't until the trio had made it back to him chambers that he had a moment to comprehend all that had been said up until that point. Leaning back in the chair gratefully, Azilon gritted his teeth against the pain in his back and allowed the girl to finish asking the questions popping into her head before he responded. Though at first all he could do was chuckle at the entire situation.

"Gods know what either of you are to me. To be perfectly honest I'm not entirely sure that I would have even picked brides for myself, just isn't my style. But as circumstances would have it, it would seem I've managed to acquire not one but two young ladies this evening. What ever am I going to do about the both of you?" Exhaling slowly, Azilon felt as if he were already regaining some of his strength back now that he was far from the buzzing crowds below. Sensing someone's approach, Azilon strained to push himself to his feet and made his way toward the door. Reaching a hand out, Azilon pulled the door inward revealing a rather short fellow with his own hand outstretched to knock. Weighing the poor guy down was the large overcoat Azilon had tossed at Aeila earlier and the twin blades he had dropped after loosing his battle with Rynek.

"Oh, it's just you Scoot. Ah good, put those over there somewhere." The Drakken waved the short man inside and closed the door behind him, seeming to pay the newcomer little mind. Even by Gemminite standards "Scoot" was short, perhaps the same height as the girl with the injured hand, and was well rounded in all of his features. If one were to compare him to an animal, most would have said he looked rather like a rodent... Azilon would certainly have agreed. Even the man's nature was a little more on the timid side, but ever since Azilon had acquired him as a servant of his household, the young Drakken lord had grown quite attached to him. Rather than settling back in the chair Azilon instead settled on the open space of the floor, folding his legs in front of him in a relaxed yet still attentive position.

"I certainly hope you don't think that this little scratch is going to take me out for good, child. Don't get me wrong, the pain is quite distracting but it is nowhere near fatal." Azilon puffed out his chest and chuckled, a motion he seemed to forget would turn him into a spasming mess. Curled forward over his still crossed legs, Azilon's chuckle turned into an annoyed growl.

"Gods damn that man. Anyway, if you'd like to go home so badly you are more than welcome to try. I won't force you to stay seeing as I didn't exactly show up with claiming a bride in mind... However before you step foot outside that door, and this goes for either one of you at this point, just be aware of the consequences." He warned, face suddenly turning serious as an amused Scoot began rubbing damp rags down his master's injured back.

"Once you walk out that door any Drakken still wandering the halls holds the right to stop you and do with you as he pleases if you do not bear the official mark of a lord in attending. The little sprite might last a bit longer on her own, but I fear you, little dove, wouldn't make it out of the fortress without being claimed by another... Far less handsome creature than I. But like I said, the choice is up to you so why don't you sit for a while and think about it carefully. That goes for you too little sprite." Just as suddenly as his seriousness had appeared it vanished, leaving behind a rather exhausted looking man wincing each time Scoot's hand ventured too close to the wound along his spine. Waving the small man away, Scoot retreated to a corner of the room, awaiting any other task that might fall to him.

"I guess some introductions are in order. I am Azilon Dantanath, Guardian of the Dark Forest and Wielder of Nightmares. This mousey little fellow here is Scoot, servant extraordanair." As he spoke Azilon had shifted in an attempt to stand however this time it wasn't the pain that hindered him. Head spinning from the excessive bloodloss Azilon's vision went white before he was plunged into the dark of unconciousness, body toppling back down to the ground before he had even heard any of the girl's responses. Scoot jumped and the sudden collapse, though to be honest he wasn't all that surprised. Heaving a sigh, the small man gathered a blanket and a pillow for the fallen lord in addition to some medical supplies he had not been able to apply before.

"Sorry about him, he's not so bad... For a Drakken. He's young still, plenty sturdy, I suspect he'll be ready for the return trip by morning. Best to just let him be. I'm Scoot by the way, well actually my name is Kushniryk Sol, however Lord Dantanath isn't very fond of that name... Feel free to call me what you like though." The small man knelt by the Drakken's slumbering form, propping him up so that he could dress the wound to prevent infection. He kept his eyes on his work but carried on the conversation as if he weren't currently playing nurse to a man easily twice his size.

"Well, I guess you two have a decision to make don't you. If you're planning to stay, you're welcome to use the bed seeing as m'lord won't be. If there's anything you need, feel free to ask." The man shrugged as he finished dressing the wound, tucking the blanket in around the Drakken before withdrawing and stoking the room's fire.

---

Sorrin sniffled again as she felt Lady Sia's arms fold around her comfortingly. The whole place was foreign to her, proving that it could be just as much terrifying as it could be beautiful. Nodding her response to Sia, Sorrin managed to settle down a bit, trusting in the sound of her new friend's promises. She was a little hesitant as Sia stepped a little bit aways to speak to the lord, but she decided to put on a brave face and hang back where the man's guards stood.

Somewhere closeby a small commotion caugh Sorrin's interest, the sounds originating from the room just beyond the guards themselves. Debating whether it was a good idea or not to investigate, the curious Gem girl found herself waiting no longer than a couple moments before her question was answered. Just before she had decided to poke her nose in, a small critter darted out of the door and around the feet of the guards. Watching the thing scurry about, Sorrin froze as another Gemminite girl pounced from the doorway to scoop the little guy up. A beaming smile lit up her face suggesting she was happy to see the little monster, a species of lizard Sorrin had never seen before. Eyes wide with wonder, Sorrin leaned in to get a better look.

"What in the world is that thing? It's so scaly and tough." Sorrin asked, staring intensely at the small creature in the taller Gem's hands.

"His name is Leo, he's a Horn-Crested Desert Dragon. Don't let the name fool ya, he's a big sweetheart... Followed me all the way up here from home. Here, want to hold him?" Kasari asked, motioning to the wide-eyed child that it was okay to hold her beloved friend. She chuckled as Leo quickly escaped the blonde girl's grasp to drape himself over the newcomer's shoulder, tail wrapped around the back of her neck for support. Out of the corner of her eyes, Kasari glanced at the female Drakken speaking to Zakroti about things she was sure she wouldn't understand.

"I'm Kasari by the way, what's your name?" She asked, returning her full attention to the young blonde standing before her.

Sorrin had to fight back a fit of giggles as Leo moved his tail, every twich of a muscle tickling the back of her neck comically. As if the incident down in the dining hall had never happened, Sorrin found herself laughing and smiling again as the bold Gem introduced herself.

"Sorrin, my name is Sorrin. It's a pleasure to meet you." She replied, glancing over to the pair of conversing Drakken with curiosity plastered to her face.

"I don't really understand this whole claiming thing, but I take it the one Lady Sia is talking to is your new husband? Is he nice?" Sorrin asked, not very surprised by Kasari's shrugged response.

"Not really sure at this point, after all I really only just met him. But these guys over here have massive amounts of respect for the guy, so I guess he can't be all that bad... Then again we are talking about Drakken standards." Kasari chuckled as she motioned to the guards belonging to Zakroti.

---

~I will edit in summary tomorrow. Tyyyyyuuuuuurd (tired)