iridescentfrontiers | Wild Freaks

Wild Freaks

(The investigation's on the verge of a breakthrough. Thanks to numerous researchers and hunters constantly at work, the qurio trail was red hot. While some hunters would see to aggravated monsters, some kept to the pursuit. Together, they earned that breakthrough, first happened upon by a hunter for hire.

Cecil peeks up at the bright purple sky, tilting his dragonsbane hat up to watch the stray qurio make their way to the Citadel. How their songs filled the night sky and their formation was kept tight, all towards the remnants of the castle itself. Returning home, from the looks of it. They wouldn't fly so closely if they were out hunting. No, they're returning to their master, giving him the teostra's share of life energy and letting them continue their parasitic lives. They take him out, they solve this whole mess.

But before Cecil can report on a mission complete, he needs a visual on Malzeno. A thorough glimpse will be enough; scoutflies could easily mark the path forward, but the kobold keeps them pocketed for now. Their bright hues may alert the elder dragon and he can't take that risk, no matter how much he wants to be part of the fight. With dual blades at the ready, Cecil keeps to a light and quick foot, following the purple path above him, following it deep into the ruins...)

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[What good servants they were, simple and shrieking creatures that latched and fed in their greedy manner. It saved him a wealth of energy he would waste alongside a feisty Rathalos struggling and kicking as they are wont to do before he went in for the bite. Why bother with all of that when you could stir the air and call these helpful little drones?

But amid the little flip-flaps of the curios as they began to settle upon his body, offering a palpable life energy that sang across his scales, were the softest pitter-patters. Pft. Likely a Boggi. Bothersome beasts...

He stretched in relative luxury upon the remnants of the marble throne, the centerpiece of his conquest, moving little else as the qurios settled and burrowed into the folds of his clothing, amid his feathers. Ahh... it tickled sometimes, but he'd learned not to let it bother him.

When he turned his head, the "Boggi" seemed to blend into the twilight. Wielding blades.

...Now that, indeed, was a bother. His eyes locked in their soft red glow, watching. Would they be of the smarter ilk and go bother the Shagaru up the mountain, or...?]

(This is the sort of scene that's painted in rhyme, with smaller creatures happening upon a creature's lair and the warnings they sing on their return. Cecil finds himself in a similar disadvantage; not only does the elder dragon's sharp senses alert him of the hunter first, but of course he'd pick up on the careful approach of the kobold.

It's less a slip-up on Cecil's part and more a dragon's senses seeing through his stealth attempts.

The qurio are annoying little creatures. Should they be inclined to speak with their master, they would surely warn of the kobold's intrusion. Malzeno metaphorically sits comfortably while he still needs to make contact. Blades are sheathed for now; the night sky would bounce off of the steel and reveal himself too soon. He keeps himself hunched down in small corners, closing in on the marble throne. He's not going anywhere else...)

[Oh, but the meal was so refreshing... would that he could have more. More...

A hunter, eh? He'd never seen one of this shape. Typically they were all human. The scent was different, despite the typical sweetness of the quickly-pumping blood, enough that his curiosity had gotten the best of him.]

I never enjoyed rats scurrying about my demesne. Show yourself, won't you...?

[It was almost a purr, a silken finger running over the back in vocal form. Did any of the reports include a creature capable of speech? But those last two words were just short of a shove to the shoulders, a command forward. The qurios over his body skittered, moving double-time in relinquishing their feast to him, receiving the message in kind.]

(Cecil himself is an outlier among hunters, being so small and more dragon-like than even the Wyverians. That another dragon, especially an elder dragon, is able to talk isn't as much of a surprise to him as it would be the rest of the investigators. What takes him, instead, is the velvet-wrapped command that compels the kobold out of his hiding place. Swept offguard, widened eyes come to greet the malzeno directly.

How did he do that? Since when could he do that? Why is Cecil actually complying?)

Oh dear...

(Last time he checked, Cecil was sure he wasn't a qurio. He's out in the open now, with reflexes guiding his hands to sheathed blades to be drawn in a moment's notice.)

THERE you are. I was beginning to think I was speaking to shadows.

[The eyes brightened- whether in glee or malice was entirely unclear- as he slowly rose from his seat upon the marble. The qurio shuddered and fell away limply, a few of them shaking away a trance before floating away like petals in the wind.

But this dragon paid them no mind. The stare was sizing him up, unblinking, burning red embers as those massive wings shook themselves off. Properly readied, he folded them in one smooth motion, encasing himself in a fine leathery cloak.]

But the question remains, ~hunter~...

[Did Cecil's eyes fail? No, surely not. But in a rush of shadow, shirking the violet twilight, his head had suddenly nearly come to rest at the kobold's shoulder. His voice was a demand just above a whisper.]

Who sent you?

[Massive claws emerged, hovering just over the shoulders, a gesture that looked almost like a host bidding a guest shed their coat.]

Who would dare interrupt me, in the middle of my meal?

(Malzeno certainly knew how to carry himself with grace. His imposing figure drew closer, intimidating and regal at the same time. This went beyond the investigation's understanding of Malzeno, but once again, who was Cecil to talk in that regard?

There was little time to dwell on his appearance; with a sudden rush of shadow, that same presence lurked right over the kobold's shoulder, forcing him to draw a breath of surprise. He was far too close, close enough for his breath to send a shiver down to the kobold's tail. He tensed. He watched claws draw even closer and without a second thought, a blade is quickly drawn pointed towards the elder dragon behind him.)

Who do you think sent me?

(Cecil grits his teeth with a snarl.)

Surely, you didn't expect your subordinates would go unnoticed? How they drive monsters mad and endanger innocent people just to fill your belly? For all of your poise, you never cleaned up after your meals; they left a trail.

[The glint of the knife, the snarl, the audacity...! As he rose to full height he laughed, the embers of his eyes dimming. Sharpening.]

I think very little of who sent who... there are so many who desire my head, who burn at the very thought of their own failures!

[Despite his prior movement, he moved at his own pace now, each step slowly filling a circle around the small hunter.]

The steaks that fill your bag. The honey that silkens your "potions"... the flesh and hard labor of many innocent creatures taken, just to fill your belly. Pray forgive my amusement at this attempt to point fingers upon some alleged "wickedness". I feast as I like... just as the lot of you feast how you like.

Your Royal Knights simply build ire over the fact that this land- this throne- is now mine to do as I wish. They fought, and they failed, and now...

[A vague gesture his way.]

They mewl behind their garrisons, their precious 'Elgado', bidding you and other such hunters to ~eliminate a pest~. Oh, folly...

How much are they paying you, hunter? What is it that they promised in exchange for some piece of me, if not my head?

Do not insult me with talk of money; I am not motivated by such human desires. There are inherent dangers to causing natural imbalances. Humans are guilty of this, but so are dragons.

(The kobold composes him, slowly drawing his second blade and observing the elder dragon's movements.)

For countless generations, have they provoked conflict with the other. Quick are dragons to forget how their aggression pushed mankind to desperation. Quick is man to forget the disgusting actions they've taken in the name of righteousness. Had this conflict not been allowed to escalate, the black dragons would not have risen.

(He points one of his daggers at Malzeno.)

While you gorge on life essence and insist humans are no better, a history no one's learned from prepares to repeat itself. From one dragon to another, I offer you one chance. Temper your hunger and leave this place. And take your servants with you.

[He spoke truth. The neverending war between humanity and the dragons only seems to stir things up before the black dragons arise to silence everything or be put to the sword. However...]

And put an end to the greatest feast I've had in millennia...? I think not. I've abided by the pleas of hunters in the past, quietly had my rest as humanity clapped each other on the back and praised relative peace...

[He lowered to all fours, cloak opening to a pair of wings that stretched wide, coursed with a red energy. The qurios crawled over his body like so many ants, chittering in newfound excitement. He only needed a little more energy...]

...I grow tired of eating so -little-, that gnaw of the belly, the stop of that pleasurable thrum of power coursing through my scales. This time, I think I'll treat myself! Beginning with YOU!

[A little more was right in front of him! The wings came down, sending a cloud of screeching, ravenous qurios. Mindless servants were the very best kind.]

(So he refused. Unfortunate; Cecil takes no pleasure in slaying his kin, but if the elder dragon won't listen to reason, then there's little choice in the matter. Dual blades crackle with draconic energy as the kobold swiftly dodges the projectile to the side.)

So be it.

(A cross of blades and the hunter is wrapped in an aura of his own, his speed greatly increased as he closes the distance between himself and his target, his approach marked with a whirlwind dash of blade slashes.)

[His eyes brightened as he laughed- the blood quickened at the height of adrenaline. The malzeno had to all but mop his mouth at the mere thought- no meal would ever be enough- before this creature would approach him as a whirling dervish of blades.

He danced away from the initial assault, but heard a signature tink, tink as a few reddish-silver scales went flying to gleam against the muddied stone. Ah... making him bleed his own blood. What an ironic twist! This dance surely must continue.

He threw himself backward, his wings filling with the cross breeze to balance him as he thrust his craggy, feather-dabbled tail. The hunter would use blade, and so too shall he!]

Ahh, a change from the sea of longswords and wyverian one-liners! I must thank you for this refreshing change of pace!

(The initial slam of that mighty tail may have been avoided, but a sharp thrust with more turning ability than expected cuts against the kobold's side. A few drops of blood lingers on his tail while Cecil can only smirk.)

Glad to be of service. Keep in mind that there's no plans to make this dinner and a show.

(A few rising swings along that tail attempt to throw Malzeno off balance.)

Edited 2022-07-25 22:29 (UTC)

[So focused was he on his tail thrusts that he hadn't come to expect the quick attack of a dual blade's swings. His body whipped from vertical to horizontal, sending his side slamming to the earth.

Yet as he thrashed in his momentary disoriented state, the qurio all over his body had begun to shriek and pulse, and more had begun to descend...]

(Those damn qurio. Mindless, yet loyal to their master. A growing problem as they're allowed to live and feed. If they wish to persist in the same folly as their master, then they'll meet the same fate.

The knockdown offers Cecil quite the opportunity to do some damage. Instead of focusing solely on Malzeno, he decides to target both the elder dragon and his servants. With a leap, the hunter becomes a flurry of blades, slicing from tail to head. He knows the best way to deal with the qurio is to remove their master entirely, but having their corpses hit the ground will send the message he wants to send.)

[He bellowed as the blade cut away at him, and qurios shrieked as they fell, lifeless upon impact with the stone. But more seemed to come in to replace them, more mindless drones fit for the feast.

The time for words was over. Though wounded, the malzeno's eyes burned as he was back to his fours. This little creature bid him actually exert effort, is that it?

With a resounding roar, his scales blackened, thrummed with deep red energy in crevices between. Wreathed in shadow, he leaped back and opened his wings from their cloak-like state.

He thrust them to the earth, the land beneath them splitting to make way for waves of an unfathomable energy twisting and arcing. All he needed was a moment... only a moment... he was quite finished with this little game of theirs.]

(Cecil would question why, of all things, humans referred to this state as "the Bloodening". Leave it to a hunter who got one too many tail smacks to the skull to come up with such a thing.

Dumb nicknames didn't make it any less threatening, however. Malzeno's fury could be felt in the air as well as the ground, concentrated energy traveling across like a shockwave. Though Cecil prepared to dodge, it's the twisting and arcing that lead to a fumble.

The impact not only launches Cecil backwards, but throws him into the nearest wall. Were it not for that, he could recover quickly, but that misstep has left him more open than he'd like.)

[No sooner had the shockwaves proceeded had he hissed- anger and hunger should never mix- before he began his advance. Though a risky endeavor, a continuous assault was overwhelmingly successful in removing pesky, stubborn slabs of meat like hunters.

As the rocks cleared, there was his fallen prey. Ah. Then he could have this creature pay for the energy it took to enter his frenzied state.

With the growl of an animal, he reached out and snatched up the kobold. Missing scales here and there, sharp cracks running down his tail, the malzeno had definitely seen better days. But a good meal always set things right. He reared up on his legs and twitched his wings forward, sealing the rest of the world away.

The qurios were still. They weren't needed. The dragon lowers his head, using the bony mask to ease Cecil's head aside in an almost uncharacteristic tenderness, the breath against his scales quaking in hardly-suppressed glee.

His embrace was firm, covetous, before it was joined with a pinch as fangs sank in.]

(In his daze, Cecil's unable to break free of the elder dragon's grasp. He squirms and struggles, but there's no contest between them when it comes to physical strength. Try as he might, he doesn't break free before those fangs pierce his scales.

Cecil completely tenses up and his blades drop to the ground. Malzeno's had more than his share of dragon blood lately (a problem the people of Elgado have long since noticed), but the troublesome hunter can add himself to those sampled by the elder dragon. Adrenaline coursed through him, an additional flavor to the kobold's mixed heritage.

And what a mix it is! Lagiacrus just don't show up around these parts. Seregios, certainly, but there's something different in the flavor. Something perhaps even Malzeno hasn't tasted before. All these random tastes obscuring something rich, something chaotic. Ironic how the little pest was rambling about the black dragons just a moment ago...

With his vigor being drained out of him, the kobold's movements begin to slow. Pulling away isn't an option and Malzeno's bite is too strong for him to force open. With a waning effort and growing lightheadedness, he reaches for his carving knife to try and free himself.)

[Adrenaline was sweet on the tongue as always, a benefit to the hunt when it came to fresh and perhaps not-so-fresh prey. But this little one was a marvel, filled with a cornucopia of flavors...

What was this? Blood of eld, of mystery... of chaos, it seems... had he less self-control his eyes would roll back in the bliss of it. Instead, he would quickly resolve himself not to drain this one dry. No, his curiosity was growing to overcome his anger. When he loosened his jaws, a long forked tongue swept against the wounds made, giving just a touch of stolen power back to ease them closed. Enjoy the bloodblight, little hunter.]

...Just what -are- you...?

(On one hand, Cecil's released from the dragon's bite and allowed a moment to recuperate. On the other hand, it would've been easy for him to have failed here and what saves him isn't his own skill or even an ally; it's what drew Malzeno's interest enough to distract away from his meal.

The displeased growl isn't just because of his situation.

Weakly, the kobold composes himself and collects his dual blades, returning them to their sheaths for the time being.)

I am...neither dragon nor hunter. I am what remains of attempts to control the power of the black dragons. Alatreon's mastery over the elements was always unstable, but man, in his hubris, believed stability would result from refining its blood with monsters. Much like their other forbidden experiments, it lead to the destruction of civilizations.

Despite my efforts, I find myself drawn towards conflict between man and monster. Notably less of a threat to all, I would say, and a warning of what may come that I cannot speak without compromising myself.

Do you now understand why I cannot look away from the qurio and the feast they provide you?

[He explained himself as the malzeno idly swept his tongue across his fangs. The war of man and dragon would be everlasting, and there would be nothing to be done about it for as long as both species lived. He understood, oh yes... however.]

Then worry not of compromising yourself any further. 'Tis nothing of my concern what humans and dragons do, for they have fought long before either of us and will continue long after we are stardust.

The qurio are a helpful tool of another's make, at any rate. I simply borrow them. Their true ruler has no name, and makes those craters the humans soil themselves over each generation.

[But don't mind him as he uses a claw to give Cecil's chin a little nudge from one side to the other. The malzeno was inspecting him... and as he perched on his haunches, those burning red eyes danced in amusement.]

However, it -has- been some time since I have forsaken energy for something more... mmm... tangible~ Knowing now what flows in your veins, had you simply offered yourself to me, we would have had no need for that earlier, silly dance...

Another creature's make? Then the investigation wouldn't have ended here either way. Elgado will need to be notified that this goes beyond...

(The kobold had been muttering to himself, reassessing the progress the investigation's been made. Malzeno's not their creator, but certainly not a victim, either.

And then he finds himself being inspected. Appraised, even. He's embarrassed by the growing blush in his face, cheeks so red, it's as if the kobold hadn't just been drained by a vampire. He blames what must be delirium on the bloodblight.)

O-offer myself to you? Why in Gog's name would I surrender myself to the life of a...a juice bag

[The glowing red embers danced in amusement.]

A juice bag...? HA HA HA...! Ohhh, that one is quite new, but you belittle yourself. Why, in thanks for the feast, I have in fact given you something in return. My boon...

[A claw ran its flat against Cecil's neck in a tenderest little caress.]

Though your head swims as your heart pumps to recover what I've taken, do you not feel my gift buzzing in your fingertips...? Until these marks of mine heal completely, you will draw strength from what you hunt, cut by precious cut of your blades.

[His wings curled tighter, only the dread moon's light filtering in.]

The strength to triumph over your quarry... to perhaps warm the people of Elgado to your convictions~?

(His boon? Cecil looks down at his hands. He could feel that power even now, one that could draw on his prey's power with each strike. How it would rejuvenate him, let him keep fighting...not unlike Malzeno and the qurio.

The kobold could disguise his Alatreon heritage by wielding the elements as humans did, channeled through twin blades that let him disperse energy. Would they warm up to him, if they learned he has such power? Would it draw further suspicion and reach the conclusion he dreads? Temporary or no, they would notice how what took Fiorayne out of commission only empowers him.

The lines of questions and the blood tests alone would tell them everything. Would they care about his convictions after that?

Cecil approaches the elder dragon, head ducked down, welcoming the dragon's embrace with one of his own.)

[Or warm one's own convictions, it seems... he watched as the little creature approached and his gaze oddly warmed, the embers akin more to a comforting flame in the dead of night than smoldering coals.]

Quick with a blade and a passion that burns in your heart... tell me, whatever are you called?

[A claw alighted the back of the much smaller figure. Perhaps it was their blood that had softened his gaze, buzzing through his system like the sweetest of wines and intoxicating him all the same.]

(It was a bit strange to feel a warmth from the other dragon. Less the physical warmth and more...the emotional kind, he supposes? Maybe it's a side-effect of the bite.)

Cecil.

(Pardon the little wiggling; the qurio are tickling his nose. The elder dragon's touch settles him again.)

Heh. Human tongues have decided to call you Malzeno. They so try to be creative with their names, but don't always succeed.

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