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Reroll genetics
Roll me a joint bro
I'll give it a gander, maybe a goose.
@agentmanatee I'm interested as well. Already sent you a PM
As he expected, Gaulirax was not greeted with warm offerings of approval at his accomplishments, instead he was met with as he expected, distaste, and a passive aggressive response to all that he has done for her. A anger washed over him as his Mistress reprimanded the girl in such a disgusting manner. His head tilting slightly up to watch the scantily clad woman barely hang on, some smoke beginning to rise from his nostrils. When the dwarf spoke Gaulirax listened in confusion, but soon came to understand what words were likely passing to the Mistress. His eyes going back to the large dragoness and narrowing slightly.

Listening intently Gaulirax frowned inwardly at the presumption that his success was not due in part to his own skills and simply that Rathrid had trained him well. He could feel a growl beginning to rise from his chest, but he quickly shoved it aside knowing that nothing good could come from a angry outburst of that nature. His eyes caught onto the girl’s and he focused on them for a moment his chest expanding as he took in a deep breath, seeing the sorrow deep in those beautiful orbs that seemed to turn to him whenever it was possible. He wasn’t sure why, but he wished he could take her away from this place and keep her safe from the oppression of the dragons that ruled over Pyresia, for all the fact that he was half a dragon he hated that half of himself raging inwardly against the draconic heritage, rather he had never been born at all than being born from the loins of such despicable, and haughty beasts.

With easy he stood, his muscles bulging and pressing against his scales as he fought against the urge to take one of the guard’s weapons and shove it into his Mistress’ throat, to end her life, even if it meant losing his own, but he couldn’t do that. No it would mean and end to the lives of any slaves under the ownership of his Mistress and it was not his place to sacrifice their lives along with his simply to exact his revenge. She spoke of his proweess in the arena and he lowered his head slightly staring at the floor as she spoke of him being profitable, and if there was one thing that would make it almost impossible for him to escape his servitude, it would be being valuable.

His head lifted and he stared her in the eyes, something he had never done before, his hands clenching at his sides, his mouth opening to speak, also something he had never done except to obey her commands. There was a fire deep in his heart that was growing with every second he watched her, he knew that he could not serve under her forever, but he would be damned if he would die in the arena for her gain, and never see the world. “I appreciate that you put so much faith in my abilities Mistress, but you will not have to worry about gaining from my blood on the arena sands, as I will never die in the arena. I will be free one day, I will be outside of this mountain… I will make my own destiny.” He didn’t stop staring his eyes looking straight into his Mistress’ knowing that he likely had taken his words too far, but he didn’t regret a one.
@Wraithblade6 awesome. Message me on Skype I would like to talk to you about character ideas
I will get in on this and make a cs later today if that's cool
Walking through the corridors Gaulirax felt uneasy going the way he was. It wasn’t often he left the slave quarters. He watched the glowing crystals pass by, his breath staying at a steady rate, while he stared straight ahead. Then the dwarf’s mouth opened, and just as Gaulirax was going to retort a sharp pain went through his back like lightning. He stumbled to a knee for a moment before standing up, snapping his jaws shut as he did so, not wanting to give the guard the satisfaction of hear him give sound to the pain. As they began travelling again he made sure to not make a noise, keeping to himself as he let his thoughts wander to the previous arena match he had. He remembered the heat of the battle, the way his muscles burned as he fought such a feverish and powerful opponent that was the minotaur. His muscular form bunches up as every tendon tenses as if at any moment that very minotaur may very rise up from the abyss in the very hall he walked, and force him to face the beast again.

Deeper thoughts took him as time progressed and they still walked, the weight of the chain and collar completely absent from his mind as it wandered to the thoughts of seeing his Mistress for the first time in several months, and even then it was only glances, and seeing her in the stands in the Arena. Some smoke came from his nostrils as they moved into larger areas, the hall widening and he looked to the elaborately carved, jeweled illustrations on the wall. He was amazed as always by the intricate markings and the way they had been crafted, but it only succeeded in reminding him how alone he really was. He was truly cut off from the world at large, he got to smell sweat, and stone, but only once in awhile did he see the sky open and free, did he smell the salt on the air. Inwardly Gaulirax sighed at the thoughts that ran rampant through his head, He considered how he was trapped in this place to be used as a pawn to gain his Mistress coin, and treasures, how he was nothing but a ticket to wealth and fame. New thoughts arose though, thoughts that empowered him, thoughts of how he would one day break free of his bonds, one day he would be out there and prove to the world that Gaulirax was a hero, a paragon.

Then they were at a door and he stared at the two dwarves as they made their exchange, and the door swung open. He stepped inside with them his body demeanor never changing even as his taloned feet clacked across the smooth surface of the floor. Then there she was, his Mistress. It had been a while since he had been this close to her, seen her face to face. He took a deep breath and looked her over, she hadn’t grown any more attractive over the years, and deep inside he could only consider her one of the most wicked beings he had ever met, though Gaulirax was biased considering his current position. When her wing lifted his eyes went straight to the young woman who was doing what he had done so many years ago, and when she looked at him he felt a surge of happiness, something he had not felt in a very long time. Her words bothered him a bit deep inside, it seemed almost as if she was taunting him, like he was nothing more than meat. As he was pushed he continued with the movement stepping slowly across the ground barely phased by the shoved as he got near the Dragoness before him.

SLowly Gaulirax went to his knees, his palms being placed on the floor as he leaned forward puttin ghis snout to the solid stone beneath him. “I have come as ordered Mistress. I Gaulirax am ready to serve however my Mistress deems fit.” He did the motions, he spoke the words, but he didn’t really feel them. He knew one way or another this life of servitude was temporary, he would either be free, or he would die.
The cold walls of his room, the various sets of weights, and only the small book of colorful pictures in the corner were Gaulirax's property, but he cherished all that he had. This day was rather depressing though as he had looked forward to getting out and training, but Rathrid had told him it was not to be. He sighed as he grabbed one of his weights a simple iron ball with a handle weighing around seventy pounds, but just as he did the door swung open revealing two of his Mistress' men. The chain have away what was to take place, as they had no food for him and he knew that he was to be having a meeting with his Mistress as she was the only one to actually leash him.

Standing he willingly let the chain be attached before being led into the hall. Even leashed, without weapons, or armor Gaulirax was an intimidating sight. Powerful, large muscles pressed against scale as if threatening to tear through, his head was held high while his neck flexed against the collar with a slight creak. Small tendrils of smoke wafted from his nostrils. Yes, Gaulirax even in his confined state standing there in nothing, but a loincloth was sight to behold, proud, and powerful wrapped up in a well muscled, deadly form, covered in scales. Lips curled back to reveal the razor sharp teeth that resided within as he gave a lazy yet amused smile, his taloned fingers curling into fists for a moment before unfurling themselves from his palms leaving only slight pinpricks, where tiny droplets of blood formed revealing his aggravation over missing training over what he considered a trivial thing.

Gaulirax after his time training, and his defeat of the Minotaur, had felt a swell of pride that only grew every time he swung his hammer, furthmore he had spent much of his time while training listening to Rathrid recount stories of heroic characters, and even the dwarf's own personal adventures, causing him to yearn to be more than just a simple gladiator. So when the men spoke lightly of him, Gaulirax turned his head slightly. "When you have lived a life under the harsh whip of a sadistic Mistress, or nearly died fighting a minotaur while thousands cheered for you to fall, only to rise the victor. Then you may no my worth. For while I may be a slave, and you may be free at least I am not a sheep." He waited for something to strike him, it was not often a slave would speak like such to anyone, and he understood punishment was more than likely, but he also knew that nothing they would do to him would be comparable to the sharp whacks of Rathrid's wooden sword sinking into scale and muscle. So he waited prepared to follow their lead, or bear the weight of their retribution.
@Obscene Symphony Lol with so many planning to do this I am reconsidering my idea.
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