• Open • [Lair] [Mature] The trials of Investigators Lizard and Bear (TTOILAB) Part two.

[Varthakh]

21st Ashan 719

It was perhaps the eighth break in the morning, the sun did its best to light up the stone cobbled streets of Lair, but no meager amount of light seemed to brighten up the plain, ugly stone architecture. As the trials went by, Fridgar only grew more and more sick of being surrounded by the fancy prison blocks. The Protean's heart longed for the forest, the vast wilderness filled with prey to hunt and life to explore. And with naught but a glance to their bag, they could transform into a mighty Sohr Khal and leave this land behind forever... But he couldn't. He finally had Alistair back, the love of his life, his Kindal. Even if Alistair wasn't entirely his anymore, he couldn't help but still love the man; they were soul bonded after all. The becomer also had Bjorn and Asher to consider, even if they didn't recognize Asher as kin just yet, they would in time. Loque also had to be taken into consideration; the excessively loyal, adventurous, wild Wyvarnth Ithecal that they'd purchased as a Slave. They couldn't just leave her, not in a terrible place like this.

The two were stood on a rooftop nearby to the fighting pit they'd visited just a trial prior, overlooking the street below. The doors were still closed, what were their running hours, even? "I hate waiting." Fridgar's voice echoed from the enormous Llewnos. Her black pelt had adorned a sheen of violet as more and more of the rising sun met with her midnight black fur. The glow of her purple eyes died down as more and more light filled the world around them, making her night vision redundant. Atypical to the majority of her kind, thanks to Fridgar's mutations, she stood seven and a half feet tall on all fours and measured around fifteen feet long from nose to tail. She was a beautiful, graceful force of nature that the Protean adored. "Hold on tight. We're going in." Fridgar's voice warned, then walked to line themselves up with the taller roof of the arena.

Loque would be forgiven for thinking that the mage was joking, but they were dead serious. "Ready?" His voice warned again in a broad echo. Then, in a quick extension of her feet, she bound forward like a tensed coil for a couple of paces before digging her claws firmly into the edge of the rooftop. With all her power and momentum, she leaped off the edge of the rooftop and dived for the higher arena... Then, unknown to Loque, she stepped off of places in the air and gained an aerial advantage. In truth, the protean had utilized their lesser magic, Rupturing, to skystep. It was a minor ability that created tiny portals to step off for a split trill, and they used it to parkour. Even with the aid of the stepping portals, it looked as though she was going to miss the ledge. So, with a powerful leap, she sprang forward and clasped the edge of the building. Her claws, while they weren't designed for grasping stone, were far stronger in Fridgar's grasp. She dug in and scraped and clawed while danging off the edge of the building, perhaps four stories off the street.

"Hold on!" His voice came while her form growled. Finally, she managed to gain leverage with her hind paws and pulled herself to the rooftop. "Are you alright?" The Protean asked while she walked toward the center of the roof, where a large circle had been cut out. She leaned her head over the edge and inside was the dirt and sand floor of the arena. That would be the best place to search for clues, at least until Calvin turned up. The two were on a hunt of sorts, they were searching for their prey, which happened to be a powerful mage that had beaten Fridgar unconscious just the night prior. The bear had told them to find him and learn his craft, and he intended to do just that.

[Loque]

Loque's vibrant orange hide and simple burlap pants stood out starkly against the dark furred feline. Dwarfed easily and looking almost amusingly like an infant clinging to her back. Hold on tight? Without thought or pause Loque flatten themselves against the feline's back, even curling their tail about her middle as not to fall off. The jolt of leaving the roof was enough to cause Loque's stomach to be left somewhere in the air behind them as the tremendous force and strength of the beast carry them seemingly impossibly forward. Eyes wide as the realization hit, only moments before gravity seemed to remember how to work again. As her haunches hit the side of the building, Loque instantly shifted from tightly squeezed to her form to loosely clinging to her back as not to restrict her movement any more. The thought of falling from this height set the ithecal's heart to thunder in their own ears.

It would take a moment after the safety of the roof was well under them for the ithecal's grip to loosen, blinking away the new dryness to their eyes. Sitting more upright, they let their tail fall free from its coil, and instantly found themselves trailing nimble fingers through her fur to smooth and straighten where they had previously gripped for dear life. A soft whine well in their throat, seeing the ruffled patches and trying to fix them for her; she was a beautiful, terrifying predator after all. "Am fine, yes." As usual, a shortened reply, though a bit shaken from the experience. It had been both thrilling and terrifying to ride atop the Llewnos through the city. For even the briefest moments they could feel the power of each coiled muscle as she move, and it was awe inspiring to say the very least.

Snapping from the hazed rush, Loque glance about, turning this way and that to scan the surroundings better before tracing her gaze to the pit below. A thought cross the lizard's mind; while they understood the master's desire to learn this magic that had apparently beaten them twice, how was Fridgar planning to get the old man to teach him? A trial in and of itself, perhaps, when they find the man, until then, the focus was simply to find this illusive mage. The thought of the master, who could already become such fantastical beasts, towering above most anyone in this city, being able to one day further enhance what was already a deadly creature was... Well, Loque was very happy to know that the master was not an evil or cruel man.

[Varthakh]

Despite clutching great fistfuls of the feline's fur, it felt like little more than a pinch to her. She was a very big cat, after all, and Loque was very small. She turned to look the Lizard over when they clarified that they were, in fact, fine, then nodded in affirmation. She lowered her body, granting the Ithecal the chance to dismount without injuring themselves before peering over the edge of the skylight. If the Protean had to guess, they would have assumed that it was perhaps a twenty-foot drop. They had plenty of forms that could make the drop a lot easier, but what about Loque? granted, she'd held on just fine while transferring rooftops, but what if she were to fall off now? They didn't have slave insurance.

"Any idea how we get down there?" Fridgar's voice asked in an echo. While he was brainstorming, it couldn't hurt to hear what Loque thought, after all, they'd proved to be a lot more knowledgeable than one would expect from the typical slave. The Protean waited there, watching the ground below intently. She could probably just jump down, right? If the drop were truly twenty feet, as the Protean suspected, she could just dangle off the edge while Loque climbed down her body, then leap down herself. That might work, but what would Loque come up with? She waited a little longer for Loque's opinion while the mage idly thought to themselves.

The roof of the arena was void of detail or objects. It was a flat plate of stone with a circular hole cut into the center, which led to the sand/dirt arena floor. Perhaps there was no other way down? Well, some creative thinking couldn't do the Ithecal any harm, could it?

While she watched Loque think, she pondered her scar some more. The edges were jagged and torn, as though whatever had caused the mark wasn't all that sharp. Was it a recent mark? If ithecal shed, the scar would have cleared up by now if it were an old mark. Perhaps Ithecal did not shed? They knew little of their species, after all. Perhaps they could just ask her? Was it fair to ask for something that could have been uncomfortable from their slave? "Loque." The Lotharro's voice sounded again. "You don't need to answer, but how did you get your scar?" The Llewnos lifted her paw to her own eye and dragged downward for emphasis as if to show the Ithecal where her own scar was. "I've wondered for some time, I have Ideas but I'm not entirely sure. Don't tell me if you don't want to talk about it."

[Loque]

After dismounting from the feline, Loque move closer to the edge, laying down flat and hanging their head over to look about within for a way down-- pillars with even the slightest texturing would do perfectly to climb down-- no different than any other tree they'd found themselves clambering up and down in the swamps. "If place, can climb like tree, just need find." Their tail curl about, all but flattened to the roof as they look, not at all phased by seeing the world upside-down for a moment. They hadn't even noticed at this point that their beloved feather headdress had been left back at the homestead.

A pause, as Loque kept their good eye turned to scan the walls and roof for a way down. The master had asked something no other had before. Lifting back up and sitting on their knees to see him now. "Scar..?" They echo, before remembering their own flaw, lifting a hand to touch over the blind eye. "Ah... I was not born a slave. I am from the swamps." Finding it best to explain the story of such damage with more proper wording felt necessary, to give a simpler, shortened answer would perhaps lead to more questions after all. "I used to love exploring the swamp, and watching every creature that lived there-- even the mightiest of predators. I got too confident in the skittish nature of the Arnabari, and got too close to their young, trying to see how they played. Did you know they have three claws?" Loque held up three fingers, splayed as closely as they could mimic to the beast's odd bird-like paw and trace over their own scar with the middle. "I learned; even timid beasts will strike if they think family is threatened. So I learn to respect space, to make myself look less intimidating, less of a threat." With a nod they turn back to looking for a way down.

A pillar would be perfect, Loque's tail alone could support most of their own weight, then all they had to do was shimmy their way down to the floor. The better question was; what was Fridgar going to do when this... what was their name? Calvin? Arrived. Surely finding the pair already within the building would not go well, but then to ask for information about someone they knew? Fridgar was strong, and great at intimidating others, but just how far could that get him?

[Varthakh]

Climb like tree? The Protean sighed internally. There were no pillars to speak of, so it seemed as though they were going to have to go with the dangling Llewnos plan. She looked to her claws, dreading the state of the once-sharp built-in tools once they were done with this. Carefully, she sharpened her claws on the stone roof while Loque gave her story. Loque hadn't always been a slave? Well, for how long had they been taken from their swamp home? Even though she spoke with more clarity, she seemed to put more questions in the Protean's head. The Arnabari was not a creature they were familiar with, though might have been in time. "Yes..." Fridgar's voice sounded from the beast again. "The instinct to protect your young is ingrained in all living things. A lot of predators will go for the young of other animals if it means for a quick meal, sometimes even among their own species. The guardian of those animals probably didn't want to give you the chance."

And that was fair enough, Immortals only knew what Fridgar would do to another man that got too close to Bellator. "...That's all well and good, but what if they think you're a meal instead?" The Llewnos debated. "When it comes to bears, for instance, you're meant to make yourself bigger, louder, try and assert yourself as the more aggressive, powerful predator..." The Protean knew first hand how the bear's psychology worked, he'd walked in their paws, after all. "If you do not... They will knock you to the floor and rip away at your body, one mouthful of your thighs, buttocks, and stomach at a time. A bear won't give you the decency of killing you before they start to eat you, they might even leave you there for a few hours, then come back for more." Nature wasn't always sunsets, valleys, and respect for your neighbor. It was a brutal and wild struggle for survival that the Protean understood far too well.

"I will be your tree." She explained simply before pressing and rising to her feet. A quick look over her claws showed that she'd sharpened them to a point and would do well to hold her in place while the Ithecal shimmied down her form. So, very carefully, she inched her hind legs off the side of the rim and dug her claws into the stone. Very slowly she edged backward, easing her weight over the edge. Easy does it... Slowly now... Then her foot slipped. At once, the massive cat's claws dragged through the stone with a high-pitched screeching noise and her body quite quickly slipped over the edge. The Llewnos mewled in mild panic before catching her own weight at the very edge of the circle's rim. "Go now." The Protean's voice said very quickly. "Quickly. Very quickly and carefully. Also, throw my belongings down there before you climb." She referred to the ax, purse, and loincloth, all of which would be very much needed if anything went wrong.

Meanwhile, the owners of the arena began to stir in their beds, rousing slowly to the new trial, oblivious to the happenings in their fighting ring. They wouldn't have too much time before they were caught.

[Loque]

Bears... something that Loque had not encountered within the swamps. Perhaps Fridgar's ability to become such beasts truly did give them some incite to the mentality and behavior of each one... Curious. The thought of encountering a bear was terrifying, even without knowing what they looked like-- how could Loque make themselves look bigger? Such a slender frame did not do them any favors there. Perhaps there was far more to learn, especially of the aggressive species of the master's homeland. Of course there was no easy way down... Why would anything ever be that easy?

Rushing to the master's side as they slid, finding a new danger to it all. She hang by her claws, Loque would need to put as little weight as possible for as little time as possible on her. Rather than toss the bag carelessly down, Loque held it within their maw, nimbly climbing down from the ceiling, using the panther's body as one would a vine. Still short of reaching the ground without dangling from her tail, Loque instead had an idea. Gripping about her hips with their own legs then bending back near completely folding themselves, thankful for the natural contortionist flexibility of their kind, and replacing the grip of their legs with their own tail to lower themselves the rest of the way before dropping to all fours with... well, as much grace as a lizard dropping could.

Loque quickly move out of the way before removing the bag from their maw, checking that they did not puncture it with their crocodile teeth. It wasn't the most graceful descent into the arena, but it wasn't nearly as painful or messy as it could have been. With a wary eye they watch the master, hoping that he would be alright getting down from such a height. However, such confidence and ability only further proved that Fridgar was indeed able to master the bodies of beasts beyond his own form, perhaps it was less that he took their shape, but their entirety as well-- he truly was that mother Llewnos, not Fridgar-- and yet at the same time, was Fridgar. Magic was confusing... but so very captivating.

[Varthakh]

Every trill she hung there, the Protean felt her claws giving way to her weight. To support such a heavy, large beast by the raw integrity of mere claws was a stretch and a half, and she felt them cracking, one at a time. Her fur stood on end while the Wyvarnth added her weight to her form. Her nerve endings were right behind those claws, after all, it was an uncomfortable pain that ran through her whole nervous system, just dangling there. Still, what option did she have? Give in and potentially crush her slave? Hell no. Loque was her's to protect and care for, the Protean wouldn't be the cause of her death. So, despite every trill spanning an agonizing eternity, she held tight to the stone with her monstrous endurance And pleaded deeply that the orange one was fast... She mustered the strength to look over her shoulder, only to see that Loque had already met the ground, poised on all fours. How long had she been off her for?! The drop from the feline was relatively short, she wouldn't be very hurt at all from the impact unless she botched the landing.

Then her claws snapped. With wide eyes and a panicked roar, the Llewnos fell and twisted her whole body to drop on all fours, just as any true feline would. And despite her terrific size and weight, she met the floor with grace and finesse. "Are you alright, Loque?" The Protean's voice asked while her front paws shook with the terrible pain of breaking multiple of her claws, which exposed her nerve endings. She bled a little from her digits while she looked the Ithecal over, then peered into her purse as Loque carried it. At once, their Lotharen totem tried to force itself into manifesting, and they let it. They fueled some ether into the transformation so that the Lothar would reform with all his fingers intact.

She shrank rapidly, reducing to the size of a large, burly man over the course of thirty trills or so. Her midnight black fur shrank into her dark skin, which peeled away to behold the thick, tan, scarred hide of the Lothar. The fur on his scalp changed hue to a dark brown and poured from his roots while his face shortened and withdrew into his skull. The bones beneath his steadily shifting flesh realigned to that of his Lotharen form in all his chiseled masculine features and strong jaw, which remained hidden by the thick hair of his beard. His bones finished adjusting beneath his skin in a fluid, smooth curling of his spine. Fridgar, as Loque knew him, stood there with his whole body naked and bared to her. He reached for his right wrist with his left hand and removed the band before he reached up toward his wild mess of brown hair and brushed it all back. Then, he tied it in his usual messy ponytail.

Once his hair was out of his eyes, he continued as normal. "This was where it happened." Fridgar spoke normally, his voice coming from his moving lips again. He gently rubbed at his temple while he walked around the arena, trying to remember details of his fight with the older Lotharro. He knelt int he sand and pressed at darkened stains with his fingertips. He lowered his head to sniff at the red/brown dried fluid. Because of the help of his Lotharen animalistic trait, he had an excellent sense of smell. This stain was definitely his own blood. Using his knowledge of hunting, he was able to see the impressions of where they'd dragged him through the arena. Being as heavy as he was, he expected at least three good strong men to have to band together to move him, and that was just what was painted all over the floor. It really was no wonder that they'd left his drunk ass on the street, he could have very well thrown their backs out.

Unknown to the skyclad Lotharro, a man in comfortable cloth clothing was aiming a crossbow at him from the entrance of the room.

[Loque]

Loque rush to the master, looking over his hands for injury only to find none, once more. "Loque fine, Master hurt?" Shifting the master's belongings from hand to tail as they follow along to his lead, watching cautiously before lifting their head, looking about the arena. How long had they been here already? the light of this trial's beginning had already warmed their hides, surely this Calvin would arrive to open the arena and see to its preparations for this trial's spectacles. The stains of the arena told far too many stories for Loque to pick apart from one another in the trills that Fridgar had found what he'd been looking for, this part of the investigation was his own to handle. Loque was merely an extra eye for trouble-

Looking around the ithecal freeze, their one good eye locked on the feint glint of the weapon. Without word the lizard straighten their stance, moving between the two with arms out to either side-- their tail slowly lifting with Fridgar's belongings clutched for him. "Unarmed. Not mean harm. Have questions- that all." Were the words spoken, simple and true-- beyond what Loque assumed was a decorative, ceremonial ax, they were without armor, without weapon. It was, perhaps, an odd sight. The smaller, spindly wyvarnth standing as a shield to the larger Lotharro, and yet it was no less expected of a loyal slave. Amusingly, the very same lesson that they had known prior, further confirmed by Fridgar and now reinforced by their own actions cross the ithecal's mind; a beast will do anything to protect its family.

[Varthakh]

"Nah, I'm fine." The Lotharro waved his hand dismissively. It was still the eighth break, not too far into it either. The running times for the arena were unknown to him, but he didn't doubt that the staff for this arena slept somewhere in the facility, perhaps in some living quarters that he hadn't seen prior. Quacians were poor people, after all... Those that weren't laughing in their palace homes, that was. So, they had to work quickly, especially given that the Llewnos had roared just a bit ago, probably woken up the whole damn venue. It wasn't her fault, the breaking of her claws had been very painful, even though she was leaning on all the Protean's strength. She deserved some rest, and she had it while Fridgar was here.

His experience in the Gauthrien fields paid off quite well when it came to working out the stories that impressions in the ground told. He'd been able to track monsters for miles in his homeland, just by watching the ground and sniffing the air for their scents. This proved no more challenging, he was able to figure out the gait, height, and weight of each man that had dragged him. With that information alone, he was able to determine that Rhostus had been one of the three to do the job, Calvin, too... And the bouncer who stood at the front, whose name he did not know. Beyond the soft dirt and sand of the ring though, he couldn't make out much of the story. Beyond there, it was all stone, no impressions or tell-tale marks to tell what had happened after. he'd need to talk to both Calvin and the Bouncer and figure out what they knew.

Thankfully, he didn't have to look far for Calvin, it seemed. Loque had gone ahead and put themselves before Fridgar, even tried to reason with Calvin, who was aiming a crossbow at the two. The human flinched a little and looked away, lowering his crossbow a tad. "What the actual fek. Why is he naked?!" The human cursed before looking back to the two. "Why the fek are you two in here? We're not even open. Come on out, Darwin, it's just that fat-ass Lothar and his slave." Fridgar scowled, to be ridiculed so was certainly cause to break the human in half, but he still restrained himself. The stockier human from the front door peaked his head around the corner before stepping out to stand behind Calvin. He avoided Fridgar's gaze, still afraid?

The Lothar placed his hand on Loque's shoulder with a firm, but gentle grip. "Loque..." He spoke softly. Her protective instinct had pushed her to stand in the way, even though she was a lot more vulnerable to whatever the two humans could dish out than he ever could be. That one act of dedication was... Conflicting. The longer he pondered it, the more his mind picked away at it. How could she be so devoted? They'd only known one another for a few trials, was she just trained to give her life at a moments notice to protect her master? That made no sense. She was just as feral as he was, self-preservation was one of the strongest instincts and impulses, but she put him first? The very idea rocked his ideas and beliefs... They weren't related by blood or even shared a kinship. Why did she protect him? Things like this between different species... weren't something that happened in nature. To say the least, it tested the protean's reality.

"Start talking, asshole," Calvin spoke again, waving his crossbow. As touching as Loque's actions were, he couldn't let her be hurt in his stead, so pulled her by the shoulder and stepped in front of her. "I need to ask the two of you some questions about Rhostus." Fridgar spoke with a soft, but firm voice. He wanted to get them talking, not scare them off.... but failing that... "Rhostus?" Darwin asked, looking to Calvin with his wide eyes. "Yeah, that's nice. I want you out of my Arena, right now." The human sassed him in response. Fridgar opened his palms to the two, showing that he was both open, unarmed and receptive to talk. "Come on, it's the least you can do after leaving my drunk hide on the street all night." Fridgar reasoned, which he thought was fair. "Don't think I don't know, there's no way Rhostus moved me by himself."

The human looked hesitant for a moment or two, he even opened his mouth to argue, but soon closed it and lowered his crossbow. "Fine, as long as you get out straight after. We're not open today." The human succumbed to the Lothar's diplomacy. Strange, being nice worked for once! He took the opportunity to milk the two for info. Apparently, Rhostus was a regular customer of theirs and actually paid the arena to tip him off about their strongest contenders. And every time they brought an individual to his attention, he challenged them to single combat and always beat them to a pulp. Fridgar had apparently done well to hold his ground for that long against the old man. As for where the old man lived or his regular haunts, they had nothing. So how were they supposed to find him? Perhaps bait him with a new challenger?

"Just a bit longer, friends. I'd like a favor, one that will pay your business quite handsomely." Fridgar offered. The human dropped his shoulders and sighed deeply. "FIne... What is it and how much are you paying?" Calvin asked, quite close to being done with the two. "I need the two of you to let Rhostus know that there's a new challenger for him and get him in here for me to fight again. You saw my gauntlets, I'll pay up whatever your price is in nel." The protean reasoned, it was a fair deal. They'd sold him out to Rhostus after all, they could do it again for him, right? The human nodded. "Alright, alright... We'll take all your winning from yestertrial if you're that eager to get your ass beat again... But, who do you want us to tell him about...?" In other words, who was going to be Rhostus' bait..?

[Loque]

It was easy for Fridgar to move the smaller ithecal than it really should have been, even with their somewhat stupid display of bravery. In truth, had it been the crone or any other human from this city, Loque would've simply cowered rather than use themself as a shield. Fridgar had, in the short span they'd known each other, shown some measure of kindness that had been missing the season prior. Coupled with a sense of kindredness of the two being completely out of place in society and better suited for the wild? Such actions were without thought, they simply made sense to the simple lizard; to protect the one thing that made sense to them in this backwards society. Perhaps domestication from the previous owner had caused a shift between the wyvarnth's sense of self and sense of loyalty?

The tension was almost palpable between Calvin and Fridgar-- at least to Loque. Harsh words, insults-- but then something unexpected. Fridgar was talking, openly, rather than glaring, growling, or otherwise intimidating the man. Was it because he had a crossbow? Regardless of reasoning, it seemed to work as Calvin lower the weapon and talk more with the master, bringing some relief to the ithecal behind him. Content that there was no danger of violence, Loque settled on looking about the arena-- now far more curious as they finally get to see it from within rather than just in the stands.

Bait..? The master was planning to bait this Rhostus into another fight, but surely the elder Lotharro would not come for someone he'd already beaten. "Loque." The small ithecal puff up their chest and try to mimic a cocky grin like Fridgar's own-- even if they'd only glanced it once. "Loque, fierce wyvarnth! Fast and strong!" It actually took all the restraint they had not to burst into laughter at their own words. Loque? Strong? Nimble and quick, certainly; they could scurry up a tree in but a few trills, but strong? Couple that with having never actually fought anything in their life, it was a stretch. The only selling point they could offer to the claim was their blind eye and jagged scar; only one scar. Such a mark could mean two things to a fighter; that this one was untested, or uncontested. Besides-- it wasn't like Loque would have to actually fight Rhostus-- right?

...... right?