As one approaches the City of Nashaki, trains of caravans lead through the sprawling outskirts to the numerous open city gates. The largest gate is on the west side and leads past the fortified walls into an octagon of eight districts. Each district features unique markets and is maintained by one of the eight Towers that rule Nashaki. In the city, heavily guarded, is the prized oasis that supports the Nashaki people to flourish in such an unforgiving land.
Though the sun was not uncomfortably warm, the winds kicked around desperately trying to stir what troubles they could with the sand. The endless see of brilliant particles rode on the howls of the currents, making it look like a storm of gold. A rather optimistic outlook all things considered. It was a desperately and almost pointless endeavor to try and avoid getting it in one's clothing, no matter how prepared you were for it. The lothar already knew that, so he just put up with it as the golden currents got stronger, battering him and trying to knock him down. The lothar was stronger than that. He had no intention of slowing down, let alone giving up, until he'd reached his destination. The tower sprung up beautifully in the city, at least in his mind it was beautiful no matter how horrific or truly beautiful it actually looked. To him it meant power, sanctuary, finally getting a chance at what he wanted out of this pathetic and miserable life. What he deserved. He already wasted a good portion of his days of his brother, he wasn't going to waste anymore of it. He was going to become strong in more ways than normal lotharro tended to be. He knew exactly how he was going to do it as well.
First he had to work towards step one. Joining the Tower of Flesh.
Most would be too intimidated to walk into a place as horrifying as the Tower of Flesh. Many might even consider it to be walking to their own doom, but not the lothar. No, no, this was anything but. His excitement started to rise and his heartbeat began to echo in his head. He had spent hours prior rehearsing what he was going to say, what he was going to do, every possible chain of events that could happen and try to make the situation go wrong, plus how to counter them. Perhaps they would test him? Try to make him a slave? Either way, he would lie, steal, and cheat to turn the situation in his favor. And certainly if he did it right he would impress them. Maybe he could even attract the attention of one of the decrees! Once he started to get more powerful in the tower there was limitless capability. Perhaps he could seduce a higher up, or he could start convincing the magic slaves to induct him. The lothar always wanted to learn magic, but it was never an option in the past. His thoughts easily distracted him from the torrent of sand that screamed around him, circling like some god awful buzzard.
Finally, the lothar approached. He took one of the final steps in the first stages of his plan, and he entered. He didn't enter with flourish, but he entered with a great deal of confidence. His chest was pushed out in a proud way and his gait was strong, with purpose. He smirked at the idea of a purpose. He wasn't really much of a lothar anymore, he'd lost his old purpose the day his brother made the final and most grievous act of betrayal against him. But he'd found a new one, all he wanted now was to make people suffer and gain power. Lots and lots of power. If this went the way he wanted it to then he'd state that bluntly.
He chose the first person he saw and started to speak to them, trying to drum up a conversation in which he could state his desires. "Excuse me, my fair friend, I wonder wondering how one would procure membership of this fair tower," he purred with a smile, though he let the person he was talking to see how he smiled more like a snake. "I feel I would make a great addition to the tower, really, just trust me," he said. He eyes darkened as his smile widened. His sharp white fangs shone like pearl razors and his eyes glittered dangerously with equal parts malice and self interest.
The man the Lotharro stopped gave him an odd look when he called the Tower of Flesh "fair", but he did take note of his odd smile, noting how cold it was. After a moment, he gave a slow nod. "Come with me." he said, before turning and taking the spiral staircase up. Stopping on the third floor, the man opened an interior door and led the Lotharro into a simply decorated room. "Wait here. Someone more qualified than me will be here to test your worthiness." he said, before leaving the room the room and shutting the room.
It was around fifteen bits before the door opened again, but when it did, it didn't reveal a tower official or any such person. Instead, it was a single woman in tattered, torn clothes with a leather collar about her neck with a bit of broken chain dangling from it. She shut the door quietly, with her back to the Lotharro, but when she turned and saw him she jumped in surprise. "P-please don't say anything, sir, if you've any kindness in you. I...I'm just trying to go home." she said, fear in her voice and tears in her eyes.
The lothar completely froze when he met eyes with the slave. She begged mercy, pity, kindness. Such weak and disgusting words, it would taste bitter to the lothar to so much as try to say them. Zelferan wanted to gag upon seeing and hearing this pathetic scrap of a person that had once been a woman. The venomous taste lingering against his tongue was almost familiar in the most sickening way. Yes, it reminded him of Her, and that made the lothar very angry. His nerves touched by such a simple action, it only made his resolve stronger. His nature more ravenous. His body became tense with anger and completely still. Apparently the slave thought that meant mercy because she tried to slip by. Which was exactly why it must of come as a shock when the man jumped at her in a manner similar to a predatory beast. He cried out loudly, his voice bellowing through the area. "Escapee! Escapee! Come quick!" He cried out trying to catch the attention of any of the tower staff. His demeanor quickly became something more animal like, beastly, like a hungry and rabid lone wolf.
He did his best to try and grab her, grappling with whatever he could in a grip like iron. He didn't really practice trying to be strong, but he had a natural brand of strength which came with his breed. The lothar groped for whatever he could grab with a vicious kind of savagery. Of course he wasn't trying to actually hurt the woman. No one wanted damaged goods after all. But he wasn't above wrapping his beefy hands around whatever he could and trying to pull her to the ground with all the force he possessed in his body. He would give a little bit of tough love if the situation needed, but she was a slave and he didn't see any reason she would require more than a little bit of force. Then again you should never judge a book by its cover. If she found back then he would just try his best to keep her pinned until someone's attention was finally caught by the goings on.
Either way his eyes narrowed and he looked at her. The hateful orbs glistened like gemstones, beautiful but oh so cold. There was no emotion left in them, just a darkened lust for something he couldn't quite place. "Sorry, but there is no kindness left in my heart," he growled to the woman in a cold tone. His voice dropped in volume so that it would only be her that heard him, no matter who had started to approach. His voice wreathed in icy chimes, colder than the heart of Tried, his teeth were bared in a snarl that warned the woman of his ill intent should she continue her attempt to flee. If she tried to run away, he might just bite. Zelferan was used to being a dog after all, a pet to be ordered around. If it got him power then he could pretend to be a good guard dog for just a little bit longer. Roll over to show his belly and all, play nice and lick the hand that wanted to feed him. He wouldn't bite it, if it fed him. But the hand of a slave could never feed, it was weak and feeble. And so he would bite it off and bring it as a prize to a master that could feed him. He would bring prize after prize, catching only the best of the prey in the stone forest. His eyes, beautiful as they were shone sharp and hatefully. Cut perfectly like the precious emerald or peridot. Hints of emotion played in his eyes, but none of them were anything good. "Besides. Your family is probably gone. This is your home now."
The Lothar would find that the woman put up a little resistance, though not enough that it would lead to her truly getting hurt. Shortly after he had her fully restrained, the door opened and a pale skinned blonde woman in a sleek white dress opened the door. She was elegantly dressed aside from the dress, with gold bracelets encircling her writs and a similarly gold necklace around her throat. The woman tilted her head to the side at the sight in front of her, then smiled. "Let her up, please." she said, her tone calm.
When the Lothar let the girl up, she walked straight over to the woman and knelt in front of her. "He did well, Mistress. He wouldn't have let me escape, no matter what I did or said." she said, her voice taking on a servile, but adoring tone and she looked up the woman with a gaze that spoke of absolute devotion to the woman in front of her.
The woman nodded and smiled at the slave. "Excellent, my dear. Now go back up to your quarters and put on some proper clothes." she said, her voice pleased as she stepped aside. The slave left the room and the woman looked at the Lothar. "My apologies for the deception. We've found that it's best to test prospective tower members by seeing how they deal with potential problems." she said, smiling at him.
"Now, come with me. There's two more tests." she said, leaving the room and heading up the stairs. She stopped a few floors up and opened another door into an interior chamber. There was a second man there, a human. In addition, there were several slaves chained to the wall, a branding iron, and a brazier filled with glowing coals, which the brand of the iron was resting in. The brand was attached to the brazier by a short chain and wouldn't reach the slaves.
"The two of you will need to cooperate in this test. As you can see, there's no way to restrain the slaves for branding once you get them to the brazier, so you'll have to figure out how to do that yourself. When you've finished, stick your head out the door and yell and I'll come see how you performed." she said, smiling again before she left the room.
!
Message from: Basilisk
Zelferan, feel free to control the slaves and the other man as you will. =]
Zelferan was quite intrigued by the woman who came to retrieve his prey. He quickly came to the realization that he'd been tested. Instead of being insulted or taken aback it took everything in him not to hold back a chuckle. He found it amusing and almost a touch endearing that his tolerance for tears needed to be tested. Of course, he wasn't going to yield for any amount of tears. The test itself had been a good appetite wetter. The chance to pounce on the woman, forcing her to the ground and condemning her back to servitude, had given him a predatory kind of thrill and made his choice to try and join the tower all the more validated. He already loved it.
"Oh, I completely admire the tactic," Zelferan said. "If you don't have the stomach to take a sob story or two you really shouldn't be working in this tower, now should you? I'd be disappointed if you didn't have something to separate the cream from the curdled," the man said with a pleasant enough smile back. There was something one might almost call amusement or excitement in his eyes, a kind of adrenaline that came from the capture and control of another human being. He waited patiently for whatever his next task might be, but there was an eagerness to his posture and tone that implied he was well ready for whatever tortures he could inflict on another human being. Of course, he wouldn't damage the merchandise, but his definitions of tough love were Avrielistic in nature.
The Lothar easily kept up with the woman as they proceeded to the second test. By the time Zelferan had seen the branding iron his face had already split into a giant smile. As much as he'd love to be the one doing the branding, he already knew the task might be a touch easier for the human. He could at least be the one man handling the slaves. By the time he'd seen the chain which connected the brazier and the iron he already had an idea of what this test was going to be. "Sounds easy enough, we'll have it done in no time. Right buddy?" The smile he gave the man he would be working with was best described as something fiercely savage and malicious. As the woman left he turned to his new temporary companion. "Let's see how long this chain in," he tugged on the iron seeing how far he could stretch it. If it reached the ground he could easily keep someone pinned. Fortunately enough it seemed to go all the way down to the ground. Who needed the wall when you had the floor? It was so much more fun to be on top of someone, keeping them in a totally subjugated position, instead of letting them be on your level by being attached to the wall. Just looking at the slaves that were able to make eye contact with him already made him hungry to get started.
"I think I can manage the branding if you can keep them still," the man in turn responded. He didn't seem too phased by Zelferan. Yet.
"Oh, the situation considered I'd have it no other way," the Lothar said. He licked his lips before he advanced on the first slave that made the mistake of actually making eye contact with him. Considering that the slaves were all mostly weak and starved from their condition it was easy enough for the adrenaline pumped Lothar to yank the first one off the wall, shove it over towards the brazier, and force it to the ground. At least the first one was easy enough. It was a woman, frail and probably starving. "Hmm, I'm willing to bet someone got into some nasty debts and wasn't able to pay it," Zelferan cooed in a tone of fake sympathy. "Where do we brand them?" Zelferan asked, turning to his companion with an even wider smile than before.
"You know, I don't think she said. Where do you want to brand them?" The man returned. No quite enjoying it as much as Zelferan.
"The chest," the Lothar growled with a massive smile.
"No, NO please, STOP," the woman cried out as the large and powerful man started to yank at the cloth covering her chest. He made sure to give her enough sympathy that her breasts were still hidden, just exposing the upper half of her chest that was closest to the collar bone.
"Oh come on, don't squirm. After all, we wouldn't want your pretty little face getting burned," the Lothar purred and added a wink for the extra emphasis. The woman's screams got louder as she tried to struggle, her movement completely stopped when the hot iron made contact with her skin. Her screams reached an all new height of pitch and volume. Though his companion seemed to flinch back slightly, pained by the noise, Zelferan reveled in it and enjoyed every moment of it as if it were the sweet melodies of the greatest singer in all the world. Only the choir of the damned could sing more beautiful notes. No, that wasn't completely true, the most beautiful sound in the world would be the screams of Zelferan's ex-brother when he finally forced the traitor into these chains. His smile turned even more blissful at the thought.
It proceeded like this for a while longer, the pair working well together and the slaves moving smoothly. Or at least it was that way up until they got to the last slave. By the way he socked Zelferan in the face as soon as he was off the wall, Zelferan already knew this one was a criminal and this one was going to be trouble. Zelferan's smile fell for a moment as he wrapped his hands around the arms of his new prey. His smile returned moments later. "I'm going to break your very soul," he growled. Force the man back up against the wall with a powerful shove, the Lothar was still able to over power the underfed slave. Criminal or not these slaves hadn't been attended for a while and the body could only go so very long without proper care before it started to get weak. "Do you know what's going to happen to you?" The Lothar cooed in a voice like acid. "You're going to be sold to some rich bastard and treated like a dog. And you aren't going to be able to do shit about it. Unless you play nice you'll be beast daily. Maybe depending on what kind of master or mistress you have, you might even be sexually used for all you're worth," the Lothar growled in a deep and throaty tone.
"You. Have. No, Future," the Lothar snarled each word. With each word, he pounded his fist against the temple of the criminal. Not enough to do any serious damage, not even enough to knock him out, but enough to daze and enough to make sure that his words got in. The pulled the man away from the wall, shoving him towards the brazier and against the ground. He was still struggling, but it was weaker and by the wild movements of his pupils he was obviously confused after the blow's he'd taken. "Now, quickly," Zelferan told his partner.
The confusion was gone from his eyes as soon as the hot iron started to melt flesh. The scent would be unbearable to anyone but someone as demented as the Lothar. It was sweeter than all the perfumes in Rynmere. That scent, that sweet and delicious scent meant that the Lothar had won. There was a look of defeat in the criminals eyes. The Lothar wanted to give out a bestial roar of howl of victory, but he held back instead opting to throw his head up towards his partner. The two both worked to get the man back up on the wall. There was a look of hollowness to his eyes even though he still fought. He didn't know why he was fighting anymore, he just knew he had to fight. Pretty soon that would be crushed out by whatever master bought him.
"We're done," Zelferan shouted out into the hall, attempting to summon his guide Perhaps this would be a job done well enough.
((OOC: I sincerely and whole heartedly apologize for the delay of this reply. Life got in the way and I was unable to get to it properly until now I hope you are still willing to continue this thread with me and see it through to its outcome. I just hope that the quality of my reply cam at least somewhat make up for grievous delay.))
Zelferan's cry brought attention almost immediately, in the form of the elegantly dressed blonde, a small crowd of tower officials, and a brown haired woman with amber eyes, dressed in simple clothes. "Very good." the blonde said, before gesturing to the officials. "Take the merchandise to the pens and see that they're fed." she before stopping to look at the criminal that had given Zelferan some trouble. "Give this one twenty lashes, though." she said, smiling happily at him. "And do feel free to resist. It will make crushing your soul so much more delightful." she said cheerily.
Once all the freshly marked slaves had been taken from the room by the officials, leaving only the blonde and the brown haired woman, there was a pause. The blonde was carefully considering the both of them, her gaze cold and calculating. After a moment, she nodded at Zelferan's companion. The brown haired woman nodded and raised a hand, causing a sudden burst of wind to flow through the room, knocking the man to the ground. With her other hand, she pulled a long, hooked knife from under her coat and threw it at Zelferan's feet.
"One final test for you alone, Zelferan." the blonde said, her tone honeyed. "Your companion has shown too many signs of weakness. I want you to gut him, slowly." she said, an openly sadistic note in her voice. Her companion rolled her eyes, but otherwise didn't speak or react, at least not until the blonde turned to her. "Do want the remains? I know you have customers for that sort of thing." she said curiously.
The brown haired woman considered the man, still kept on the floor by the wind. "Just the heart. One of the merchants in town pays handsomely for hearts. He seems to think consuming hearts will give him more life." she said, and the blonde raised an eyebrow, to which the brunette laughed. "Yeah, it's moronic. Still, not for me to say where someone will spend their money." she said with a shrug.
(You're good. =] And sorry for my own delay, I had trouble coming up with content for this post.)
Zelferan watched as the slaves were taken out, his eyes glinting as he eagerly awaited his next command. There was something predatory in the way he took joy in watching the slaves. There was something hungry in which he eyed them up. What would be the best places to hurt them in order to make them scream louder? The question alone started to make his mind light up joyfully, the prospect doing more than just exciting the lothar. His attention then turned to the pair of women. There was a moment when he met the gaze of the blonde, his eyes flickered dangerously with an almost insatiable hunger. There was a poise to his posture that spoke him ready to run off at the next command, as long as it involved the suffering of another being.
There was a slight moment of panic when her gaze landed on his companion, not him, and she nodded. For a second a trace of defeat lingered in his heart before it was quickly replaced by anger. With as little control as he had, he might have been tempted to lash out at his "companion" should he not have been shocked by what happened next. Without delay the man was slammed against the ground, startling him and stealing away his breath. Zelferan gazed down at him, his eyes wide and curious almost in the manner of a child. Well, that was until he heard the clink of metal landing at his feet. Shifting his eyes he noticed the dangerous glint of steel. A sudden warmth started to grow at the pit of his stomach. Now he understood. A small smile started to spread across his expression. Now it made perfect sense! Oh, how he relished the way that the blade curved, ensuring maximum pain for whatever target he was sicked upon. He turned to the blonde as she spoke barely holding back the giddy smile which threatened to overcome his features. That wouldn't be very professional, now would it? He could smile all he wanted after he got started. A giggle almost freed itself from him, but was luckily kept under control
Her tone sunk deep into his mind, sticking itself in his consciousness. The purr of her voice and the sweetness of her words, all of it was exactly what Zelferan aspired to become in the coming seasons. Was he perhaps falling in love? It was uncertain if he fell for the woman or the idea of the kill, but as the situation stood he was overcome with a powerful euphoria that teetered between general happiness and something almost sexual. He had no intention to forever be the obedient tower dog, but for now he could play the part. Especially when the part allowed him to enjoy himself. "Oh, but of course," he said sweeping his arms outwards and dipping the top half of his body slightly in a bow. He finally allowed a grin to slip onto his face, but made no attempt to sweeten the expression. It was all malicious joy and poison.
He swooped down, picking up the knife without a second thought and approaching his quarry. "It's a mistake for anyone with weakness to enter this tower. Soon your body will match just how gutless you are," he growled in a low tone as he glared down upon the man. The weak are beaten and devoured. That is how the strong get stronger. Everyone yearns for a part to play, even the weakest and lowliest of beasts craves a role. The role the weak fill is to become fodder for the strong. And Zelferan, such a majestic and powerful beast of a monster, was always destined to play the part of the strong. He just had to wake up. He fell upon the man with a ravenous furry, using the knife to start ripping away at the shirt the man wore. "We simply must get a good look at the merchandise before we begin to partake of it," he tutted as he finally ripped the shirt away from the man. He moved his knee up to his poor victim’s chest, keeping him pinned in case his new mistress decided to release her winds.
"Well isn't this disappointing," Zelferan said with a click of his tongue, "not much here... Hopefully you'll have a little more to show on the inside," he cooed as he placed the cold steel right where the man’s skin met the cloth of his breeches. He slowly ran the hook of the blade upwards until it met where his knee pinned the man, pressing ever so gently as to not yet break the skin.
"No, Immortals please! Have mercy!" The man cried out, breaking down as he began to realize what was happening to him. Zelferan's body began to tingle as he let out a breathy sigh.
His voice was husky and deep as he spoke. "Now then, what have we learned about little weaknesses like that? I believe you've only proved our lovely lady friend's point," Zelferan's growl came from deep in his chest and might have even been considered sexy if he wasn't pinning a man with the intent of ripping out his insides. Slowly Zelferan repeated his prior action, this time pushing the hook hard enough to just break the skin. The man howled as if it was the greatest pain in the world, but Zelferan knew it was mostly the fear of death that kept him screaming. "Go ahead, keep crying. Run your throat raw before you die for all I care, it just makes this more enjoyable!" Zelferan teased. His laughter bordered on maniacal as he thrust the blade tip into the man in the same spot and both times before, wrenching so that the next time he dragged the blade upwards he would split the man open by his belly. The screams only seemed to get louder and louder.
"Are you ready?" Zelferan asked as he put both hands on the blade. "This one won't hurt a bit! It’s going to hurt a lot," the lothar seemed to almost purr as the words left his mouth. His smirk had twisted into a giant face consuming smile.
"Let me die," the man groaned as Zelferan wiggled the blade around slightly, trying to get it into the perfect position.
"Now, that wouldn't do at all. My exact orders were "slowly". And I have to admit, I'm rather enjoying myself. Come on, just a couple more minutes at least! I'm not done yet," Zelferan laughed. His eyes flared with what could only be described as absolute joy. Finally having gotten the knife into a position that pleased him, he yanked back towards himself. Flesh split open, muscle splitting from muscle and fat oozing out of the injury. Red began to pour from the wound, but at a slower rate than Zelferan had expected. The human body truly was a marvel, it could take so much damage and keep going. That's what made human targets into the best prey!
Zelferan went as far as to hum to himself while he worked, reveling in the crescendo of screams coming from the man who weakly flailed beneath him. It was no use. "I'll admit, for not having much on the outside you've got some very pretty insides. Your stomach reminds me of a woman I once loved," he mused in a dreamy voice as he began to pull the entrails out of the still screaming man. Without any kind of warning Zelferan slashed open the stomach, letting the acid inside leak out into the rest of the cavity it belong to. "She was taken by the man I once called my brother, so I had to save her. The only way was to cut out the infernal creature. I had to do it you see. I loved her so, so very much, I wanted to cut away all the traces of my brother that he'd left with her. I loved her so, so much. I loved cutting her up even more. There was something enjoyable about tearing open the insides of the person you loved. There was a certain, bond, a certain, closeness, that not even the act of sex could hope to accomplish. It was so, releasing." The man said as he continued to yank out whatever innards he could find, occasionally yanking on bone.
"I wanted to show my brother what it was like too. He deserved to know, though he didn't deserve the joy of being chopped up by me. I would be far too good to him. I wonder what it feels like, how amazing it must feel to have someone put their hands so deep inside you. It must be amazing to be a woman! Sadly, that may be a joy I never get to know. I can't let myself know it until I make sure my brother knows it first," he used the knife to carve out another bone.
Finally, he noticed that the screams had stopped. "Really?" He asked in an annoyed tone. "Already done? It's only been a couple minutes! I haven't even had my fill yet! So typical of a man," Zelferan growled quietly to the corpse of the once screaming man. I had been far from a couple minutes, time becoming lost as he’d slowly carved away to the music of screaming. He took his knee off the chest of the man, cutting it open and pulling out the heart. He did as little damage to it as he possibly could, but the hooked knife wasn't the best for carving. It was much better for fostering pain. Eventually the organ was dislodged from its fleshy casing. Holding it gingerly in his hand he stood up, walked over to the brown haired woman and offering it to her. His entire body was speckled in blood one way or another, though his hands were completely drenched in it. A smile once again adorned his face. "Did I pass?" He cooed as the smile on his face seemed to grow larger, threatening to split it in half.
When Zelferan stopped and looked at the two women remaining in the room with him, a difference in body language was immediately noticeable. The blonde was as excited as he was, and judging by the slight twitch in her hands, had some trouble not joining in and messing with the test. The brunette, on the other hand, was sitting against the wall and appeared to be simply staring at the ceiling, though if Zelferan was observant he'd notice that there seemed to be a slight breeze hanging around the woman.
Brunette turned her attention to Zelferan as he offered her the heart. "With flying colors. And for the record, you had him alive for half a break." she said, smiling as she took the heart from him. She spent some time working on properly storing the heart before she stood up and looked at the blonde. "Focus, Ravena. Get yourself off torturing some poor bastard on your own time." she said, her tone sharp.
The blond started, then looked back at the brunette and frowned at her. "Manners." she said reproachfully, though she nodded. "Come with us, Zelferan." she said, leading the way out of the room. From there, they made their way to the very top of the tower. There, they entered a room that was a mixture of office and personal quarters, and was very opulently made up, showing extravagant wealth. There were a number of slaves in the room, both male and female, and they were elegantly, but revealingly dressed, their outfits designed to show them off but keep the details hidden. The woman from the first test was among them, and she smiled at Zelferan briefly before her attention turned to her rapt adoration of her Mistress.
The blonde sat down behind a large desk and gestured for Zelferan to sit. "First order of business, welcome to the Tower of Flesh, Zelferan. My name is Ravena Nelyion, and I rule this Tower. Your advancement will be based solely on my favor, so see that you keep my favor." she said, her tone welcoming, but there was an edge of control in it. Ravena knew the power she wielded and clearly, she revelled in it. "Do you have lodging in the city, or would you prefer to stay in the Tower lodging?" she asked, clearly focused on business now.
Zelferan felt a small rush of pride. Half a break was pretty good considering how long ago the last time he tried something like this was. He watched the brunette as she scolded her blonde counterpart. He was already quite enthused with these two. He was starting to believe this would turn out rather fun. Considering what he'd seen of her nature he was already starting to develop a fondness for this 'Ravena'. Though, the brunette wasn't bad either. He felt himself smirking as the pair led the way out of the room. He wondered, just how right could he play his cards? Of course, he'd need to be careful. Trying to get away with anything off limits could lead to some dangerous situations. But what was life for if not having a little fun? Death meant so little to him compared to other species. He was a pure Lotharro, as long as they didn't burn him they could do whatever they hell they wanted to him and he'd come back kicking one day.
He watched his two guides rather closely. While he could inspect how fine they were, he'd shifted gears slightly. He watched the way they moved, trying to attach how they walked to how they acted. Body language was usually a dead give away when it came to the nature and thoughts of people, so it was always best to pay attention even if you didn't have to. The bigger mental catalog he had of personality vs. movement the better off he was. When they entered the room that was half office and half personal quarters he made sure to take extra care of memorizing the details. The extravagance of the place could help with giving Zelferan an idea to the mental state of its owner. He also tried to make careful note of the slaves, trying to force the smaller details about them into as much head room as he could find. He had a better memory than most, but it would be hard for even him. He returned the smile that the slave woman from before gave him, perhaps when not in the presence of her master he could try and make a friend. The more friends and information he could start to glean the better off he would inevitably become.
How revealing all the slaves in the room were dressed stuck Zelferan as interesting. He made sure to file that specific tidbit away for later. Even the least meaningful information could easily become important later. It could lead to a deadly weakness or a personality trait that Zelferan could exploit.
As Ravena sat down she motioned for Zelferan to sit as well. The man obeyed, quick and obedient to the command. For now, he was her dog. He would follow her rules and see how much trust he could win. If when the cards fell they fell in her favor, they fell in her favor. But it was always best to keep an eye on the whole board. Including her. "Of course," he said in a respectful tone. He wasn't trying to schmooze or flirt, not yet anyway. For now, he dipped his head, keeping his voice quiet and respectful. If he was being honest with himself, he really did respect the woman. Ravena held absolute power, she was beautiful and strong and so deliciously corrupt. Immortals, what he wouldn't give to bed a woman like that.
Noting the shift in her expression and tone Zelferan followed suite. "Though I have lodgings in town, it would be best if I could move into the tower," he said simply. There was a plethora of reasons why it would be better to start living in the tower, but he was certain that she didn't want to hear any of them so he kept it simple. The largest reason was noise complains. Too much moaning his neighbors said.
When Zelferan said he wanted to take lodgings in the tower, she nodded, writing something down on a piece of paper before handing it too him. "Give this to the quarter-master on the second floor. He'll arrange for slaves to transport your belongings. The majority of the quarters for tower members is underneath the tower itself." she said, smiling slightly. "Easier to keep things cooler that way." After a moment, she pulled a badge out of a drawer in her desk, a tower with a whip coiled around it.
"This tells people you are part of the Tower of Flesh. Do not lose that, as it is what lets you move about most of the tower without restriction. Other tower members private lodgings are, of course, off limits without their permission. Any slave with a symbol like that on the front of their collar are tower property and are free for the...pleasures, whatever they be, of all tower members." she said, before gesturing at the woman from the first test. She came over quickly and Ravena gestured to the collar she now wore, one that looked to be coated in gold. "These collars mean the slave is my personal property. Under normal circumstances, they aren't to be touched." she said, before giving the woman a hungry look. "I like my toys kept in the condition I put them in." she purred, before gesturing the woman away.
After a moment, she looked back at the brunette woman that had been accompanying her since the end of the second test. "Now, there is some other business to attend to. Do you know anything of a bandit group known as the Rhakrii raiders?" she asked, her tone curious, but intent. The brunette, who had looked like she was about to fall asleep during the conversation, suddenly looked very intent, waiting on Zelferan's answer.
