Friends of Our Enemies ((cont. from Current News))

With Arkenfel in the swamps of the Navokha and having gained the presence and attention of two of Navokha's rulers, Chief An'Khoroth and Khovakaa of the Blood Council, he now had his opportunity to reach an understanding and perhaps forge a relationship with this reclusive and mysterious civilization.

Khovakaa went forth to one of the Tryscarian prisoner pods hanging from an arching willow branch into the murky, filthy cesspool below. With her claw-like fingers, she reached forward to tear at the sinew while taunting the man.

"Yes, little dung ekh'nara. Your time has come. Oh, yes, have I waited to twist you up and spit you out...such good blood for my leeches...but, no, pretty one, I have a new job for you. Yes, now, come on out of there, pretty."

The man tried to stay quiet and composed. He was heavier-built, and obviously one of the stronger Tryscarians - he had the look of a security officer, perhaps even a military man. Regardless of his apparent strength, here he was, rotting away in the festering swamp of the Navokha, waiting for his chance to die. His skin almost looked as if it had started to rot, his stench was horrid, he was emaciated and had visible difficulty breathing and moving, and a few open wounds across his body were infested with marsh-flies and shiny, fat black leeches. His hands were bound with briar-thorn, and his wrists were twisted behind his back. Judging by how deeply the spiked vine was embedded into his skin, it looked like they had been knotted there weeks ago, with no reprieve for the captive man. The Navokha obviously didn't care for the comfort of their prisoners - others were in even worse shape than this man.

She gripped his bloodied arms and yanked him over towards Arkenfel. "Yes, pretty. You go right ahead." An'Khoroth gestured for Arkenfel to do as he pleased with the man as he watched from a few steps back. The Tryscarian looked down at the damp, muddy ground, waiting to die.

Arkenfel smiled at the tryscarian and began to laugh "Oh how the might slaver has fallen! So pathetic, we cant believe people fear you and your pathetic race." he chuckled and then dug his boot into one of the mans wounds, he was going to have fun before he killed him "Slow or fast, which would you like to see?"

~Tis Cruor since I no has password~

As Arkenfel was torturing a man he heard a different laugh, less manical and yet more chilling. If he looked around he would see a pale skinned Navokhah with dark hair, she appeared almost human.

"Found a use for that wretch?" She said in a familiar tongue, Cruorian.


Akh'sora's Appearance

Khovakaa's head twisted sharply to the side when she heard the voice. She almost let out a low hiss at their little party with the Tryscarian interrupted. She was about to speak, when An'Khoroth motioned for her to stay quiet.

"Khovakaa, sev'kaesh. Ekh'nara ves kha'dra, Cruoria'nara." An'Khoroth spoke firmly as he looked over at Akh'sora. "Why are you here?"

"Found myself some friends," She said sadistically, gesturing toward some tryscarian prisoners who were is far worst conditions than this fellow. "They were wandering near our border...so... I decided to play a little game with them."

The men looked weary, fatigued, and one was unconscious. Surely the other wanted to be. Their skin was covered in cuts and bruises, the conscious one was convulsing from some poison that was eating away his flesh from the inside. The unconscious one was quivering and his wounds were surrounded by a flesh eating maggots.

"We have a...guest." An'Khoroth paused on the final word, as if looking for an acceptable translation. He nodded to Akh'sora, still observing the situation closely.

Khovakaa snarled a wicked grin. "Yes, I wondered whose work that was. Kha'dra, ak ekha'dra. Good, Akh'sora, good. But An'Khoroth and Khovakaa are busy, you see. Very busy with this new one. He is showing us ugly little games, I love them, yes...you know his tongue, though? Yes?"

Akh'sora looked over Arkenfel, starting from bottom to top. She tilted her slightly back and glared at him as she approached, circling around him and examining him from every angle.

"Yes, I know your kind. Friends of those blood fiends. I know who you are." She spoke to Khovakaa, never taking her eyes off this newcomer. "Khaha'dra' kno'roth' kha'nara' ak' Cruoria" (He knows the people of Cruor) Akh'sora's speech was slightly slower and more precise than the others, as if trying to be sure the words are said correctly.

Arkenfel smiled a little watching this new women and smiling at the captives she has, loving their pain and anguish "We like this woman, a cruorian here...this place keeps getting more and more interesting" He keep torturing the weakened tryscarian in front of him, placing his hand on his head and flexing just for a seconds and small shoots of black lightning started crackling along the tryscarian's body, not killing him anytime son though.

She glared at him with a sadistic confidence in herself.

"I would not pair me with those blood fiends, they are far weaker than I." She seemed irritated that he called her Cruorian, her history with them was not a kind one. As Arkenfel tortured the man she watched intently, the man's pain satisfied her sick desires.

He chuckled "We are sorry, we didnt realize you would take such offense" he smiled looking back down at the tryscarian "Hello puppet, how you would like to die?"

An'Khoroth observed the exchange with some interest, and perhaps even fleeting impatience. Khovakaa eagerly twisted and tented her fingers amongst each other, curling her gnarly bones across each other.

"Yes, fewer words and more blood. Come, now, pretty one! You are here to show us your khaha...Spirit. He is just a little ekh'nara. Enjoy releasing him, yes..."

The Tryscarian began to quiver and shake. "You don't have to do this...it doesn't have to be like this..."

Khovakaa giggled as she watched. She beckoned Akh'sora over closer, to watch. "Yes! Pluck his pretty eyes out." She nodded at Arkenfel in anticipation.

Arkenfel smiled and the black lightning sunk into his body and a few seconds later they could see his bend shaking and flexing like they were liquid but they were still quite solid "Make peace with your gods ekh'nara, we are about to send you to them" Every single bone in his body imploded inward causing the mans body to crumple inward violently on itself before exploding outward, the bones were now a white liquid mixed in with the blood.

Akh'sora moved closer as Arkenfel did killed him. She seemed utterly enthralled by the gory demise of this filth.

"The allure of annihilation, such utter beauty." she said manically as his body was rendered to bloody flesh.

An'Khoroth studied, without any noticeable change in expression or posture, as the man limply sank over from the force of the attack. He nodded, appreciating the raw, destructive power that Arkenfel displayed.

Khovakaa twisted her gnarly claws together in delight and chuckled at the mangled corpse. "Yes...so ugly...we see your Khaha...you are magical, yes? You are not one of them. They have no magic. Ekh'nara..." She tilted her head curiously at Arkenfel, eager to learn more, as she knelt down beside the body, admiring the handiwork.

He smirked at their reactions "Yes we are magical. We are the most powerful summoner in Atrum Veneficus, though we are also quite skilled with destructive magic as you just saw. Though that is the demon part of us, we were originally just a summoner" He licked some of the blood of his hands. "Anything else you would like to see?