RP:Tomb of Bronze

From HollowWiki

Scandal returns to a presumed Uldenbraug Dragon Tomb in Venturil. To his own misfortune not only does the tomb seal, but the dragon presumed to have been buried is alive and well, and challenges him to a fight. When he succeeds in killing it, and carving out its heart, he returns to the entrance of the tomb, and with some difficulty manages escape. Upon his return to his home though, he discovers to his own shock and dismay that while he had been in the tomb only about six hours, almost six days have transpired. He has missed the summit with Brynhild, and realizes he may very well be in hot water with her. In the end he returns to the Venturil tavern in disguise.

OOC Note: I was oocly on a ski trip an unable to rp in hollow for six days so this is an IC story to make up for what i lost with all of you, i am now back.

Act 1:

Scandal leaned back in his chair as he sat in his office of the Adventure’s guild. His office was small namely due to a now working rune-stone portal that linked between his office in the guild and his office at his home in Venturil. The small office supported a hand carved desk that he had made himself, a small bookshelf, and packet of papers along with a wall dedicated to mapping Lithrydale throughout history and geographically. Beside him numerous empty and spent bottles remained from various glamour potions and magic restoratives consumed. Even a few weeks after sharknado and he was still recovering from his spent reserves. Wiser than he was then Scandal focused now more so on making sure each and every reserve was filled. Taly had done wonders for him, and in some way, despite the heavy loss of blood, he realized that unlike other dragons he needn’t concern himself with bleeding out, loss of blood was not death for him it seemed, rather it was being completely void of mana. That was his lifeblood now, not actual blood, nor superficial wounds, he realized that now to stay alive he needed to use his mana reserves for carefully, as they allowed him to both live and to fight. He had to be cautious and careful. He might have been powerful, he might be size bigger than mountains, capable of superhuman attacks, and yet this all depended solely upon the mana in his reserves, and he needed to understand how he worked, so that he could make the most of it. As he scribbled the details in and finished writing in his book. He punched a letter out first to his sister lana, and then to taly, to eli, and then lastly to brynhild.

Scandal rose from his chair, the dragon having a form like that had once been seen at the frostmaw yule ball. This form pleased him, and others seemed to have noted that it looked good on him, it fit his personality, and better yet it felt well, normal, as if his shapeshifting ability had been working at its best like other dragons, this might have been the form he would have been. It felt, good. Moving towards his office door, he slipped out and walked along the hall. He slipped two of the letter beneath his sister and her husband to be’s doors. Then he opened the post box for outgoing mail. One would be sent to Taly, the other Brynhild.

Returning to his office. He moved toward the portal and placed his hand upon mid mechanism, and then with his other hand he spun the exterior first 11 clicks to the left and then 13 clicks to the right. Then he pressed the central part and the stone door opened revealing a surge of energies that spiraled as he stepped through. His form contorting amongst the energy distortions, until he emerged from the portal within his home office. His home office was massive by comparison. The bookcases seemed to start east of the doorway into the hall and seemed to stretch onward beyond the curvature of the room. The Office was almost six stories tall, with bookshelves stacked with books collected through the ages, copies of books, maps, and letters, the whole library was a treasure trove, and somewhere only amongst the faintest of hearing could hear the pages of book being mysteriously written and placed on a shelf as if some magic were present and knew of books being written making copies as they did so. Amongst these bookshelves were a series of strange black glass spheres which crackled with a magic within, and sometimes forms of beings would appear within as if the spheres were giving glimpses back through time on past conversations or events. Scandal would take little notice of these wonders, as to him Scrathulclaw hall had just one to many mysteries, and he had no intention of studying them all, otherwise he would have useless to the guild and to any relationships he might have gained, because he would have been stuck here with them, and never leaving the house.

Removing his shirt, Scandal soon also slipped off his pants and drank a small glamor reversal potion. His draconian form soon becoming apparent he then moved toward the wall where currently two markers existed. One was in Xailous, a single check mark and note added that the tomb was raided by those who opportunists who saw its occupant was deceased, and therefore they could take what they wanted. The second marker was here in venturil. Here he would hold his gaze at the marker and then avert it. “I think it's time I do that exploration,” He said aloud to himself.

Immediately an illusionary servant appeared before him offering a glass of wine. “Some wine sir?” It said, as another appeared, “A Massage sir?” and yet the cycle would repeat, “A hot bath sir?” “Fencing sir?” Scandal sighed, “Say so much as a word in the house if your the guest or master of which and you will never be without constantly annoying servitude.” Turning his gaze he made a silent wave of his hand, thus causing the apparitions to fade.

As they faded away he recalled the inscription on the door, and thus went into the gem sculpture in his house and fitted a chunk of amber into the machine. Then pressing the right runes, he the machine went to work sculpting and cutting the amber into a five sided pyramid. With the finished product complete he imbued it with a bit of magic, supposedly so the key could now work.

Gathering himself a backpack he fetched for himself, one big enough to hold some loot in it once he was able to raid the tomb. He stepped out on the porch of his study and lifted his wings to take flight and dove off the balcony to lift himself directly into flight.

Flying in venturil regardless of what other dragons might say came with certain hazards. The mountains surrounding the land created air pressure eddies which to the inexperienced venturil flyers could draw dragons from the sky and send them reeling to the ground, or even lift them higher than was breathable, Scandal himself had this happen once, and it had been scary. Suddenly in high altitude and unable to get enough oxygen, or perhaps it was simply that he thought at the time he needed to breath, he shook his head, revelations about himself continued to baffle him, and he hoped that once and for all he would find the answers he was searching for.

Act 2:

The area by the cliffs was much the same that scandal had left them. Though the skeletons of his blood bath were long gone. Well nearly gone a couple of necromancers had seemingly stacked their comrades bones into some arcane memorial for Gods and Goddesses know what. He was pleased to see though that the innocents who had been sacrificed there bones were not mixed in, it seems something or some razurath had come by and buried them respectfully. He noted the spiraled glass monuments for each of the victims.

He found himself stroking one only to be blown off his feet and sent crashing down onto the ground some twenty feet away. “Ow,” He said sitting up, seeing the spiral glass stones glowing with runic symbols. “Razurath, they never cease to impress, clever, anti theft mechanism.”

He found himself amused. “Forget having dragons about, he or she who commands the razurath have a firm stake in conquering this world.” He chuckled as he pulled himself up. He recalled the distance, he had been thrown. “Yep definitely a lethal distance for a human.”

Avoiding the glass tombstones he proceeded over to the grooved wall, where the rock shifted from brownstone to a silvery dark grey color. He pressed his hand against it and tapped. It didn’t sound hollow, but then, he recalled in his youth that this particular metal never gave any clues to its secrets.

Finding the grooved spot for a key, Scandal opened his bag and pulled out the amber pyramid, and slid it pointy end first into the groove. A small click sound he heard and then door began to glow until the it became translucent, he pressed his hand up against the silver wall only for his hand to slip past. “So that’s how it works, it become immaterial when the key is placed within, but once its the key is gone, it goes back to material, and presumably, indestructible, Fascinating.”

He stepped through, and heard his foot crunch down on several skeletons, some more ancient than others has they fell into dust from the wind of his foot pressing down on one skeleton. “Tomb raiders, who clearly didn’t get the whole don’t remove the stone less you be trapped forever.”

He opened his backpack and pulled out a torch, then taking a breathe he breathed a flame onto to the torch. But no sooner it was lit, then a light filled the chamber, and hallways passing outward into four directions. “Oh for the waste of torch.” He tossed the torch aside.

“Four hallways, which means a four clawed dragon, meaning it could be Bronze Dragon, or Silver, or a Gold.” He pondered this, only for a second knowing things only dragons of uldenbraug would know gave him an advantage, and a smile broadened on his face thinking of neferet and how despite all the intelligence she claimed to have, that being without the knowledge of Uldenbraug she would have been likely trapped in this tomb, like the other tomb raiders. An Uldenbraug dragon had a shared habit unique to their brood, and involved the nervous movement of the claws. “If this was a bronze dragon tomb, then it would have third claw first.” He moved towards the hall and then took a step back. “First claw next” he moved towards the left most hallway, and then took a step back. “Fourth claw,” He then moved the most right hallways of the chamber, and then took a step back. “Finally second claw.” He moved towards the last one and has he did the halls blinked a green light, and a staircase opened in the central of the chamber leading down to burial vault. “Presto.”

Scandal moved down hallway he was presently at. As he moved through it he noted the various skeletons that decorated the walls, behind glass cases. “Honored slaves, if one could only be honored in service of a bronze dragon.” He said, as he slipped past the illusionary door into a large chamber filled with wooden and stone crates.

“Now let me see here, what is in box number one?” He said as he lifted with his hands the heavy stone, which actually forced him to have to breathe hard. “Gods i forget how much heavier uldenbraug stones are then on this flimsy cardboard people call granite these days.” He said as he peered into the box, and saw gleaming Celestium blades of many different shades. “Know the dragon, assassin she is.” He opened another crate wood this time, only to find it no less hard to move. “Agh, why in the world would someone need wood to be this heavy?” As he lifted the wooden lid, he looked in, spotting gems of all sorts. “Jeez, how many jewels does a dragon even need?’ He looked about spotting that number of crates was well over a hundred.

“This could take some time, time that i don’t have.” Scandal returned to main entrance and turned into the next hallway to the left. As he walked through he detected a series of cages, which were filled with taxidermy, humanoid species. Some of them were attractive, while others on the other side, well, scandal had to press the thought from his mind, they looked tasty, and they were bred to be such. It was different world in Uldenbraug times where sentients were bred to be tasty or attractive or both to dragons. He shuddered remembering his own experiences in his youth, pressing on he entered the next chamber.

The chamber like the previous one was a storage chamber. Unlike the previous one though it was filled with sleeping creatures, but then he realized, not creatures sentients, still asleep unaged, he realized that when the dragon would awake these would be his meals. He wanted to free them, but, what would they do? They would likely seek out a dragon to serve, that’s all they ever known, they likely would just serve dragons, they have no concept of doing anything else. They would be rare, exotic slaves, and most dragons wouldn’t care any less about them, neferet he knew would eat them all, and likely take exceptional glee in that she was eating the last of a few old races of dragon slaves.

He sighed. He wondered about himself, and whether or not he should take them. But then he remembered, they would not serve him unless he killed their master, and that would be the one thing he wanted to avoid. Awakening an uldenbraug bronze came with the risk that if you didn’t kill it, it would escape and wreak havoc unlike any normal dragon could do, it would lie, cheat, con, manipulate, whole kingdoms would be at risk until it brought the entire world beneath is feet.

Scandal moved out of the chamber, his heart felt like lead, as he left them. Turning into the next hallway he walked through without paying mind to the stone work and metal statues. Automations, he thought. Likely so old that the magic that made them work had left them. Entering into the room, he saw a forge that lay their unmoving and off. Here those automations were made. But because they hadn’t moved and the forge was repairing them, he assumed they were no longer active.

Returning to main entrance he took the far right hand hallway, this one unlike the others was carved with carvings of eggs and dragons nursing their young. “Uldenbraug dragons, the only ones known to nurse their young, how far we have fallen, so that bond between chick and parent is as distant as the star above.” He said. He sighed as he entered the chamber. There were eggs yes, but they were all pottery, likely egg represented each dragon that was produced by the dragon that hatched. Hundreds of them, and yet, then he saw one near a fire, moving around it he could see within a small shadow of a dragon sleeping.

“We are raised to be what we are, not inclined to follow an instinctive urge to be what we become.” He echoed words he had once used for himself, only to have discovered that he was in fact just as evil as the dragons breeds he had mixed blood with. The mana in him was what had separated his beings into three, one that represent himself has a whole, one that represented the evil within, and his current form, the good, or whatever tried to be.

He wanted to smash the egg, one less problem in the world, he reasoned. But he couldn’t inside was an uldenbraug dragon that had never known love and had never known how to be evil. He struggled with this. His heart was split. Finally he shifted his form to larger size, until he was twelve feet tall. Taking the egg from its pedestal, he lifted it to his mouth, and pressed it in, swallowing the egg down to his own brood sac. He felt it within him and for a moment a tear was shed from his eye as a warmness filled his hearts. He took a breath, and then emerged back into the main entrance. Of course there was one problem. A very big problem.

Act 3:

Staring into the visage of bronze dragon was enough to rivet any dragon and any creature to their soul. He had seen blacks and whites alike shudder at being in the presence of one, let alone one that was staring him right in the face with his full attention magnified at him. Uldenbraug bronze’s were very likely the most powerful illusionists to ever exist, and they instilled immense terror into those they desired to terrify. He smelled something, then he realized he had just shat on the floor.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Ashiouz the Meek.” Thundered its voice, far deeper than his own, and he suddenly had the strongest of urges to run. Which he did, any dragon that didn’t was among the living, or wanted to live. Running towards the entrance only to see the dragon's tail suddenly knock the keystone out causing him to slam into the metallic former doorway.

“Leaving so soon? Where are your manners, you ought to stay…. Dinner.” It chuckled as hoards of shadows gathered around scandal and then with physical force pushed him back towards the dragon. Scandal tried putting up a struggle but there was nothing to stop him as he pushed against the slick floor.

Scandal struggled, as he to press against the shadows but as they were shadows only they could press against him. The Dragon opened its jaws as it waited for scandal to be pressed in. “And this time, there will be no silver guard to save you.”

Instinctively Scandal, twisted to so that when the jaws clamped down on him, he would hold them at bay. The Dragon only chuckled pressing down. “Why delay the inevitable? Let go.” It said its voice becoming seductively smooth. “Tell you what I send you some friends as well, come to me my little slaves, your master hungers.”

Scandal felt the weight of the dragon's jaws, and it felt like they were going to crush him, but why didn’t the dragon clench harder, why did it want him to…. Oh. He remembered, Bronze Dragons of Uldenbraug had no breath powers of their own, and were significantly weaker physically than most dragons, they made up for these weakness with their unmatched illusions, which were so convincing that they left physical damage long after the caster was dead.

It wanted him to let go, it didn’t have the jaw strength to close its jaws with him holding them back. Just as the slaves were coming in at their masters beck and call. Scandal swung his fist at the upper jaw. He smiled as he heard the cracking of bone, and the teeth that shattered. The dragon roared which allowed scandal to roll out of its mouth and duck underneath of it.

“Fool, now i will chew you out for this.” The dragon opened its jaws and a harsh wind exploded out fragments of celestium shards flying past him, they seemed so real, and to anyone who didn’t know that Uldenbraug Bronze dragons had no breath powers, then they would have died by the illusion cast out from it maw, but to him they passed through him as if they were made of air, Running towards its mouth he leapt upward and brought his fist down on its snout, causing again the sound of bones cracking and blood soon flowing out of its nostrils and large tears flowing from its eyes.

“I will rip you apart!” Screamed the bronze lashing out with its tail and then with its foreclaws. For a moment it seemed its claws were everywhere and Scandal knew that it was likely no more than one of them was real, so making a choice he leapt towards the one above him, but of course that was the real one. He was sent flying into the wall where he heard his own bones crack, and the pain in the exploded. “AGH!” he said as soon as several species of slaves grabbed him by the arms and legs and tried to haul him in front of their master.

“Now, die!” The bronze roarded opening its maw and snatching up both slave and scandal and swallowing.

Scandal felt himself slipping down. He knew it would not be long before the dragon would resort to teasing its food mercilessly. With the thought that they would die of digestion soon, when in reality it could be as long as a week, before it grew tired of tormenting its food. He had to get out, he didn’t want to go through this again. He focused in his mind. Bigger, bigger, bigger. For Scandal a single second of being hugged by the throat muscles and then suddenly exposed to open air and the slime blood upon him. For the bronze however the feeling of a rush of its neck bursting at the seams and then suddenly the feeling of its head detaching from it body and sailing upward until it hit a wall, and then its vision darkening as it observed a large 30’ draconian standing in between its headless body and its eyes.

Scandal looked down at himself. “Yuck!” He said with utter disgust, and shook his arms causing the yellow slime like blood to slop onto the floor, with a sickening gloop sound. Around him the slaves began to emerge looking between their former master and now their master’s killer.

Scandal meanwhile drenched with the yellow ooze paid them little mind until he observed them all with their heads to the ground bowing at his feet. “Oh no, no, no, no, no.” He said putting his hands up realizing that he had now just earned himself almost 300 slaves.

“No I am not your…” But one of the slaves rose, and said, to the gathering “Our new master would prefer us not to bow so low, let us only bow our heads.” Scandal watched eyes glazed as the multiple species of slaves rose from their bowing positions and merely looked down in reverence.

“Master would prefer a new name?” Spoke the male Fox like creature.

“Master... I would prefer not to be called Master.” Scandal said indignantly. Now inching towards the exit, soon realizing that it was not open any more and the key was outside. “Oh Great!”

Act: 4:

Scandal nursed his hands. As a one of the slaves was wrapping them up. For two hours straight he had pounded at the door with his bare hands, but that had only been after an hour of searching the dragon’s chests for a gem or a key that could unlock it. To no avail however. The scales on his hands were cuts and shattered, the silver blood staining the white bindings. “Damn Uldenbraug and their Infernal Infinitium alloy.” He cursed. He looked at the feline bandaging his hands. “Are there any magic restoratives, strength enhancements, side doors?” He asked in the uldenbraug tongue.

The feline glanced up and looked toward the snow fox male. “No, no other exits, only the main, uldenbraug…”

Scandal cut in, “Yes yes I know, Uldenbraug Paranoia, and burial rights.” he said motioning with his hand causing it pain. “Ack, but enhancements restoratives?”

A turtle slave placed his head on his cane. “Well, there may be something, but does the master wish to court death so soon?”

Scandal eyed the turtle. “What do you mean court death?”

The turtle slowly walked forward a bit and sat down on a bench. Towards the main entrance several slaves were participating in a transportation spell, trying to get it to work. “Well, there might be some old Faugthorn root, stored, the old master was a bit of botanist when he wasn’t manipulating others.” “Hold your tongue elder, he was our master.” Snapped the lycan like slave. “He was a cruel one at that, i know, i served under a white and black in my time, both were cruel, but even they were nay as cruel as the bronze.”

Scandal realized of what they were talking about. As far he knew in this day and age Faugthorn was extinct. But when it had been around it was an overload stimulate. It could fill a being’s mana storage to 1500 times the normal amount, but it was also incredibly deadly if dosage was not exact, many dragons had found their bodies being violently exploded by the mana yield in their bodies distigrating their forms. Scandal was a mana well, but he was scarce mana these days namely due to the crimson cloak adventure, and now he realized that while some faugthorn might restore him, it might also kill him. “Can you prepare a dosage?”

The turtle looked at him, “I have many times.” He poked scandal in the chest with his cane, “I can fix you one easily.” With that he began to slowly walk towards the boxes the slaves had pulled from each hall along with their old master’s corpse to the center of their teleportation ring spell.

Scandal leaned against the wall for an hour as he waited for the turtle to return. The slave handed him to the craggly brownish blackish root sliver. “So do i eat it?”

The turtle shook his head, “No just bite, and let it dissolve in your mouth, don’t spit.” Scandal braced himself, and bit into the twig, then moved it about with his tongue, the taste of the root was the worst he had ever tasted, far worse than the gruel the first chef on the voyage had served. He felt like he was going to vomit. He felt the brine flow up his throat, but he was forced to swallow it back down. All across his body he felt an intense heat growing increasingly, and he felt strangely better and better. The halls began to glow as he realized that from within the mana was becoming so strong that it cast light from beneath his scales.

The slaves turned away as he moved toward the door is body glowing like the sun. He stood ready and focused all this excess mana that he needn't be able to store into a single punch. He struck his hand against the door as the light within went out, the door, though stood still unscratched. Then the pain hit as he realized his fist had been acquainted with his elbow.

“GGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!” He screamed clutching his right hand. Tears flowed from his eyes so fast that diamonds began to litter the floor around him in piles. The turtle looked at him with dismay.

“Don’t you know anything about Infinitium? You can’t break it. Thats why its called infinitium.” The turtle said, as two vixens pushed past him, and came to try to reset the bones.

“I thought, that with that, last time i did something like that, I shattered a mountain, and it did nothing.” Scandal stuttered as he felt the slaves tried to reset the bone the pain already excruciating. He would note later that he was fully recharged with mana, and fully restored despite the injuries he would sustain today.

“And I would have told you, had you said something, that other dragons have done stuff like that and yet to no avail when it comes to infinitium.” The turtle yet again stated.

Scandal screeched as the the vixens pull his arm back into position this time wrapping the bindings much tighter. To keep the bone stable.

A flash of light and smoke cloud arose in the main atrium, as the spell had failed causing only an obnoxious amount of smoke to rise up. Scandal waited for the smoke to clear but when it didn’t he looked at the Turtle. “How come the smoke lingers?”

The turtle replied, “Everything within the tomb when the door is shut is kept in a stasis, unable to age or heal, thus that is why with your physiology you're unable to heal, and why our master and us, are still alive, when we leave the tomb we will begin to age and heal once again, like normal, and not like Sir Pathirx from the Seven Tails of Time, novel.”

“That was a good read,” Scandal chuckled remembering the book now. “Such a pity all copies were burned.” He grimaced as the healers applied some powder to the wounds as they bound them.

“I would suspect though, that Sir Pathrix never expected to be locked with a Uldenbraug tomb.” Spoke the lycan, whose wolf appearance was uncanny despite being humanoid as he was, with his arms or paws crossed. “Nothing works in these tombs, spells attempts to flee, physical assaults.” The turtle looked at the lycan, “yeah but if one were big enough they might be able to pull the tomb apart with their growing body, I know that our former master never liked paying for all the infinitum, so he chose stazium rivets to hold the tomb together.”

Scandal nearly choked on the word. “Stazium, well i can try that, but you’ll all need to get into the tunnels, can’t have the ceiling crushing your, or myself.”

The turtle looked at him, “Then do it, we;ve only wasted three hours trying.” The turtle threw up his cane and motioned to the slaves, “into the halls, with you, all the treasure too.”

This of course took yet another hour. But when it was ready scandal along stood in the hall.

Swelling in size until his dragon form became exposed, he pressed against the ceiling with his body, he felt it press and it was painful, but he realized that if needed to do he needed to do it. Using his sizeshifting he pressed his body hard against the surface. Pain increasing tremendously and for a moment scandal thought he was going to suicide size shift within this prison as he felt his bones cracking and muscles popping under the strain, but then he heard a low bell tone sound and then a sounding crack, suddenly the pressure eased away as his he heard above rocks battering the dome. With a herculean effort he pressed the dome off of his back and let it roll into a bowel position. They were free.

Scandal laughed before he collapsed his form shrinking, as he did so. He landed with a thud against the metallic floor.

Act: 5

The journey back to scrathulclaw hall was long, be that he couldn’t fly and he was now with of gathering of almost 300 individuals. He lay on a stretcher carried by two croc slaves. Who were able to move him through the dense forest and through up the path to scrathulclaw hall, the caravan each moved the treasures within, and four giant slaves each 60’ tall moved the Bronze dragon corpse with them. The tomb was empty and that was good, nobody else would have its secrets, they had to be handled with the only person alive from the time who knew enough about them.

Scandal opened his eyes a few hours later, as the turtle knelt at his bedside providing some healing potions. “You did it, you got us out. And now you look like crap.” Scandal groaned, and the house moved a mirror magically in front of him so he could assess his injuries. Cuts from his tears turning into diamonds had sliced across his face, and wound possibly from when the dragon’s claw had struck him exposed a bit of skull, as a feline quickly wrapped that up to hide its grotesqueness. His arms were like they had been a while ago, with them re-joining their elbows, but now stretched out and put in place. His legs hurt, and now he realized why, they were bent at the knees from when he had exerted his strength against the dome, and his chest and waist was more bruised darkly than his scales. But then he realized that his scales had reverted him back to his appearance as he had with the glamour potions at the frostmaw ball. He looked human yet again.

“Ack, Scrattle, did any mail come while i was gone?”

The voice of the house spoke, “Over the past six days you have been gone Brynhild’s meeting has occurred without you and the crimson cloak after party has occurred without you.”

“That impossible i left this morning!” Scandal insisted.

The house repeated itself, “You were gone six day’s sir.”

Scandal closed his eyes. Eli and Lanara would understand but likely not Bryhild, he was sure Neferet was pleased about this, and he was sure that Bryhild would no longer trust him now, that he failed to make it. “She will likely come here, so we need to have the excuse ready, Get the dragon taxidermied, and the treasures categorized, and then get yourselves cleaned up, I have a feeling I am going to need to present one of you or more as a peace offering. If the bronze dragon corpse doesn’t verify it. Hide it behind a veil, when your done, just so that the she might not be drawn into why i would have killed such a fantastic glorious beast, we don’t want its falsifications of itself confusing her even in death.” He ordered.

“Yes Master. At once master.” Said the slaves in the room minus for the turtle. As they left his attention stayed with the turtle.

“What’s your name?” Scandal asked.

“Slave i suppose, slaves don’t get names other than when they are served as dinner, or some pet name when they, are called on by their masters.” The Turtle said.

“I am not going to stand for that, I am going to call you Yurtle, and that will be your name.” Scandal said.

“I don’t like it.” Yurtle said with almost a grumpy turtle snort.

“Yeah well i don’t like my name either, so deal with it.” Scandal said chuckling. “Scrattle, scribe me a message to send to Brynhild.”

The form appeared with paper and pen.

“Brynhild……” Scandal began his letter.