Brutias The Warrior

Brutias Dragon, Master Claims: Derik Krod's older brother Infamous Pet Fighting Instructor Part of a Closed RP Group NSFW Content will be present

[brutias]

kitsune-ashtyn:

Ashtyn feigned another pout at the other’s words, the height difference proving to not affect his confidence in the slightest even if he did hate being looked down upon. “And you say that like you’ve got us all figured out.” While all kitsune had similarities, their tricks and treats varied greatly. “Playing with you will be so fun.” Ashtyn wouldn’t deny his need to be unpredictable, mostly because the surprise on another’s face always caused a rush of power. He knew the dragon was right about the enchanted lube, considering the other could probably split him in half easily though that didn’t make him any less stubborn when it came to tearing some urgency out of the other. Before he could come back with something along the lines of ‘it can’t be that big’ just to encourage bad behavior, the dragon was offering to fly them to his home. As if a child was being told they were going to disney world, Ashtyn grinned wide at the suggestion and an uncontrollable giddy laugh fell from his lips while he clapped his hands excitedly. “I’m not afraid of anything, including dragons. Let’s fly.” 

While it was true that one couldn’t fully prepare for a kitsune’s tricks, Brutias liked to think that he was more prepared than most. He was one that never quite believed what a kitsune said, never let his guard down around them, as he knew that the second you did... they’d take advantage of it. Of course, he also knew that young kitsune were even more unpredictable in nature, so he knew that he’d have to watch this one in particular. “Then let us make haste,” the dragonborn stated as he began to pull off his robes, revealing the broad, chiseled chest he possessed and the crimson scales that lined the sides of his forearms. Tossing his robe around his neck, he closed his eyes and allowed his wings to shift out of his back, the small alleyway causing his wings to remain half-folded given the massive wingspan, and without saying anything, he grabbed the kitsune into his arms and took off in a massive leap, wings quickly spreading and flapping once he surpassed the height of the buildings nearby. "Have you ever flown this high before?” he called out, voice deeper and more guttural, as he began to soar above the city.

[brutias]

pyvor:

Promise to go easy on him? That’s not something the warrior would’ve asked of anyone, especially the dragonborn in front of him. Before the door could fully open, Pyvor reached his hand out to push it close, to its previous state. “No! No! No! No! Now isn’t the time for a battle, I’m still a little injured and I’m more than positive you’d want me at one-hundred percent when we face off in battle.” He knew going into a fight with his face still swollen, it healed up somewhat but not completely, he knew he was a sitting duck. At least if he could see with both eyes, he could mount some kind of offense. “Okay, you win. I’ll heed your warning and allow you to humble me.”

Is it possible for anyone to be humbled and still at the very best of their potential? Pyvor didn’t even know if it was doable. Listening to Brutias speak his piece, he extended one finger skyward. “When I say I can teach you a thing or two, it has nothing to do with battle. It has everything to do with evolving yourself as a person. You may have seen everything that I’ve seen, more than I’ve seen as a warrior but you don’t know what I’ve seen, couldn’t possibly know what I know as a person. I, not only love my family, I live for them and that’s why if you don’t make sure my letters get to my wife, son and brother, you’ll see a side of me you’ve never seen in anyone before. Now, I’ll listen to you when it comes to battle. When it comes to my family, you better heed my warning.”

The elder dragonborn couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, finding it funny that the other thought that they were going to actually battle. He knew that a fight between them would be over quickly - while the slave was a Zanir member, he was still only a fraction of Brutias’ age and Brutias relied on more than just simple brutality (despite what people thought) and he knew that he would best the creature in a full-on assault. And that wasn’t something he wanted. Not when he had his eyes set on claiming the warrior and grooming him into a champion, one reminscent of a dragon half-ling he had possessed long ago.

“Come now, bellator. Where is your fighting spirit? Surely you and your clan partook in sparring sessions?” the beast of a man stated as he moved to the wall of weapons, moving to grab two swords before he turned to look at the pet. Two guards were stationed at each entry way into the training area, and there were two standing guard at the weapons rack as well - though Brutias knew that he wouldn’t need them. His bellator wasn’t an idiot - that much he could tell by staring at him. “Or are you worried that even at half-speed I will be able to best you within seconds?” His words were teasing, goading, playful - showing that he didn’t believe them, nor was he going to go for the kill when he sparred with the halfling. “Impress me.”

[brutias]

wolfishderik:

Derik didn’t like the idea that his kind had hurt the dragonborn, especially because it gave him a bad image. He watched his master for a long moment before nodding his head, “Then I won’t talk to him…” He responded, deciding that was the best avenue. “I don’t like that they hurt him…”

The elder dragonborn simply gave a nod at his pets words - he had told him that it would’ve been wise for him to give the other a wide berth, so he had no qualms with Derik wanting to avoid talking to him. “Neither do I,” Brutias stated simply as he moved to shake his head, soft sigh leaving his lips. Wolves taking advantage of a dragonborn... it was sick and uncalled for. How dare they try to defile one of the world’s greatest species’? It made Brutias angry, but he kept his cool and instead inhaled slowly. “But life can be cruel. That I’m sure you know first hand. But no more. For either of you. You are both being looked after and taken care of. Is that understood?”

[taigahisoka-blog]

Beginner’s Luck

[brutias]

taigahisoka:

Taiga sucked in breath and let it out in a lacy cloud of smoke from the cigarette. “Perhaps I will,” Taiga said to Brutias. He looked over the table, and it was like his face shut down. One second you could see arrogance and amusement, the next second—nothing at all.

“No limit,” Taiga said. “Buy in.” He put equal gold to what Brutias had forward from his massive stack. He began showing off, as it’s called in poker: shuffling the cards.

He was skilled, his fingers nimble and quick. The cards soaring, and he wasn’t looking at them.

He dealt as competently as he had shuffled, starting from the left. When everyone had five cards, he put the remainder in the middle of the table.

Everyone picked up their cards, keeping them close to the vest. But a vampire next to Taiga’s neck muscles twitched to keep from smiling, and a werewolf blinked in shock at a bad hand. There were tells everywhere, most too subtle for the other players to pick up on, but none so subtle that Taiga didn’t see them.

Taiga was totally blank. He had a wonderful hand, but looking at him, no one could guess whether it was good or bad. He had already memorized the common tells of his current opponents, so his oblique attention was focused on Brutias, to see what if any tells he would give.

One thing people didn’t expect from a dragon like Brutias was the fact that he could be subtle. Most assumed, given his gargantuan form and gruesome background, that he was boisterous and let everyone know the thoughts that crossed his mind... but he was far calmer than they expected. No matter the thought that he mused, he kept it to himself and he had long ago learned how to master his face from revealing what he may have thought and, thankfully, that translated perfectly to card games.

So when Brutias was handed an okay hand - one that wasn’t bad, but wasn’t the greatest - he, like the human, gave no show of emotion and instead called the vampire’s raise before he moved to let his hand curl around a glass of scotch. Bringing it to his lips, he let his orange eyes focus on the human, their gaze meeting - but no expression crossed his features as he took a slow, small sip from his drink.

[brutias]

wolfishderik:

Derik furrowed his brow at that, he’d never thought about a full breed having a rough past just like him. “…Did my kind hurt him?” He asked and hummed, “I wouldn’t hurt him.”

It was clear that the other was surprised to hear that someone as powerful as a dragonborn would have been kept captive and abused by others, but he knew that Einar’s case was a special one. Giving a small nod, the dragonborn sat his chalice aside as he moved to rest his elbows onto his knees. “They did a lot of things to him, and while I know that you would not hurt him.... his views of your kind are skewed because of his experience.”

[brutias]

pyvor:

Perhaps this warrior of over four-thousand years could showcase him techniques and awaken a competence that he never knew existed within. The half-dragonborn never thought it wasn’t possible, he always became overly defensive whenever anyone challenged him in that state. Maybe one of his flaws, his mind warped around the concept that he didn’t need anyone’s help, he didn’t need to better himself. “Okay, Mister Legendary Instructor. I’ll go along with your plans of training.. and who knows..” Pausing a moment, both of his hands rubbing together, causing the muscles in his biceps to bulge and the veins to accentuate said muscles. “Maybe I’ll teach you a thing or two.”

Humility? The immortalized warrior planned on teaching him how to humble himself? “I didn’t know you were a comedian with the rest of your list of accolades.” He found it funny and not so funny at the same time. “Okay, Brute. I’ve been fighting a long time, not as long as you, but a long time. In my days as a warrior, my life has always been on the line, this is no different to what I’m accustomed to outside these walls of this city.” Maybe Brutias needed a history lesson or something, because Pyvor didn’t think he understood. “I come from a long line of warriors, my son is going to be one. And in my days fighting for my life, I have never, I can’t stress that word enough for you, never underestimated any of my opponents. I’ve took them serious and I’ve slayed them. Just like I will do to anyone in here who gets in my way.”

Though the other spoke of not needing lessons of humility, his words told him otherwise. The fact that he boasted about his skillset, and even said that he would be able to teach Brutias a thing or two, told him that he was cocky, not confident. It was a fine line that champions could cross, and while he was pleased to hear that the other took his opponents seriously... he didn’t want him to think that he was untouchable. Because no matter how strong he was or how skilled... he could be taken down if someone was smarter.

“Be that as it may, your life of fighting is only a sliver of what my life of fighting has been.” Ten years was nothing on the over four thousand he possessed - it was a blink of an eye, really. “It would be in your best interest to listen to me in regards to what I have to say, given that the pets that I enter into the fighting competitions have never been slain.” He had had pets die on him, of course, but that was when their human genes failed them and let them die from old age. Pets that he groomed and championed were always left standing, no matter if they faced another pet or a beast.

“But seeing as you are so confident,” Brutias paused just as they reached a door and he moved to let his hand push it open to reveal the small training area within the tower. “Let us see how your fighting style compares to mine? Don’t you fret... I promise to go easy on you, bellator.”

[brutias]

adrianbianchi:

Learn Adrian did. All he could think about as he sobbed and begged was being good for Brutias so the torture would end. He just wanted to be told be was good. Adrian wasn’t use to any sort of punishment and for his first one to be so intense he was just shaking needing something anything to ground him. Time seemed to blur as Brutias finally walked in on the sobbing slave still hard and wanting as ever. As the toy was pulled out Adrian did actually sob hips trying their hardest to shift back not wanting his pleasure to be gone but also wanting the torture over. Hearing the words with a fuzzy brain he nodded blinking twice.

As soon as the pet blinked, revealing that he understood his words, he let his fingers curl on the sides of the gag before he pulled it off, letting the male’s mouth be free. “You only speak when spoken to. Is that understood?” he asked as he sat the ring gag aside, it coated in the boy’s saliva - and tears, no doubt - and he moved to let the back of his hand graze the pet’s cheek. “You are nothing but a whore. A hole to be used and nothing more.”

[taigahisoka-blog]

Beginner’s Luck

[brutias]

taigahisoka:

The game was over, Taiga having taken the pot, and a new game was beginning. A fresh, clean slate. In the brief moments where a tell was not a part of the game, Taiga smirked at Brutias.

Taiga turned as the table was reset and rubbed his hands down the master who’d put him up’s waistcoat.

Found what he’d looked for. The man smelled of a smoker, and had a gaudy enough doublet it would probably be a luxury brand. It’s why he’d picked him, actually.

He lifted out the smokes package from the pocket of the man shuddering in anticipation of Taiga’s fingers.

Taiga slid a cigarette in his mouth and pocketed the package. “Get some liquor for me, will you, love?” he told the elite offhandedly.

The man’s jaw dropped. To get a drink for a slave—you could see the indecision, the weighing of the loss of face.

But then he turned and motioned for a servant. He put a glass of champagne from a tray of them next to Taiga with a rude clink.

This time, as the cards were dealt out, Taiga smiled—really smiled. It made him look ten years younger and almost innocent, when he smiled like that.

“A dragon, hm?” he told the large elite who’d just bought in. He gestured to the cigarette. “Would you mind lighting this, sir?” he asked him.

The pet was bold, that much was certain. From the way that he held himself to the way that he practically ordered the elite that he had accompanied to fetch him a drink... but that only added to his overall appeal. With the unpredictability of a kitsune and the intelligence of an elf, he could tell that this one - despite having no supernatural blood - was unique. And it had him interested in trying to test it out.

But before he could, the other was asking him to light his cigarette and, without even lifting his head or his hand, the end of the cigarette began to burn a beautiful orange as smoke slowly started to lift from the end. “Parlor tricks,” he stated, knowing it was nothing compared to having a ring of fire circle a vampire - but keeping from burning the very vampire it was trying to protect. “Perhaps next time you should give me something more challenging,” he stated before he gestured to the cards.

“I believe it’s your deal, pet.”

[brutias]

wolfishderik:

Whatever wolf he had been, it was still there, somewhere beneath the surface. It showed it’s face when he was faced with vampires or in the heat of a battle. It was when he wasn’t fighting that things seemed to change. Where he became timid of scared of people. Even a wolf like Derik could only take so much abuse from someone before he changed.

The wolf watched his master as he moved forward with the blood to mark him, he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of the liquid as it was brushed across his skin. To be lavished in blood that was not his own was the thing he enjoyed the most. He opened his eyes, watching the man as he told him what he would be known as.

The wolf looked to the heart and reached out to take it from the man, fingers curled around the still warm flesh before he brought it to his mouth and bit into it. He got himself bloody as he ripped apart the flesh, devouring it until there was nothing left in his hand but the blood from the creature.

A smirk teased the corners of his lips as he stared at the man before him, watching as the pet reached for the bloodied heart of the doe and sunk his teeth into the flesh. It was something to be said about brutality, really... to see someone so driven by carnal desire that they tear into the flesh of a heart with their bare hands, but it only showed Brutias that his pet wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty. That he wasn’t afraid of shedding blood or ripping out hearts. That he had the blood of a champion.

Once the heart was gone, Brutias moved to let his hand clap onto Derik’s shoulder. “Welcome to your new life, Derik. Now, let us show you the castle... our castle.” With that, Brutias hopped onto Xovus’ back and gestured over to Lume. Derik was now officially his, his pet and his champion, and that was something that he would give up. Not in the slightest.

[brutias]

pyvor:

Pyvor might’ve been considered as one of Brutias’ breed, being a dragonborn - however, the half-bred warrior was intelligent enough to realize that he wasn’t equivalent when it came to the man mountain. Trusting this guy was a definite rejection, he didn’t know Brutias from a can of paint and despite he being an idol of his and most of the clan, Brutias wasn’t one of him. Being claimed wasn’t what Pyvor wanted to happen, but if Brutias didn’t claim him or some other reasonable master, an elite with an equally bad temper, as Pyvor had, would’ve claimed him and that was like pouring gasoline on an already raging flames. A horrific combination.

Draping both of his masculine appendages over his broad torso, hands tucked beneath his elbows whilst listening to Brutias speak of the edicts he’d set in place, should he ever choose to claim the pet. Two rules in particular caught his eye, one being he wouldn’t be forced to lay with the master, always a plus, considering his orientation and his marriage. The other, him being required to undergo training. What was Brutias trying to pull? No matter if it was meant to be one, Pyvor took that as an insult. “Okay, you’ve got to be pulling my leg.” Maneuvering his arm, he brushed his palm over his face in an attempt to not blow a gasket over the master’s words.

”You want me to train with you? What makes your way so great? I have my own routine and no offense, I know you’ve trained a lot of great champions, but I have my own style. I’m not knocking what you do, I prefer to go with it my way.”

It was clear in the other’s stance that he didn’t like what his words insinuated, that he felt as though him and his prowess had been insulted, and it only had the elder dragonborn letting a small chuckle leave his lips. While he was sure that the pet was no doubt skilled, he had still been taken into their custody - which proved that he still had a lot to learn. “Oh, I have no doubt that you are skilled, bellator,” the larger man stated, turning to face him as the smile still played upon his lips. “But I have over four millennia of experience in the ways of combat whereas you barely have more than a decade. You will still be able to fight your own style and think for yourself, but you will be able to do so with my techniques and experience in addition to your own training.”

The other’s confidence was certainly good, but he knew that the pet couldn’t let that confidence get the better of him. If a pet were to become too cocky, then they would, no doubt, find themselves being surprised by an opponent that they underestimated. And that was not something he wanted to have happen. “Humility will also be something I will teach of you. You can be proud of yourself and your skills, but do not let yourself think you are untouchable. The second you do is the second you hand your opponent your life.” 

[taigahisoka-blog]

Beginner’s Luck

[brutias]

taigahisoka:

@brutias

Conversation, like certain other parts of the anatomy, always did much better when lubricated. And that was why he was here—lubricating conversation. And tonight, after the party-goers were gone and everyone was asleep, lubricating a different aspect of the host—a body part. Need he say more? He’d made his rounds, intimately entrenched in the party which was filled with former clients of his winery. The night had grown long. The gathering, such as it was, had been a huge success monetary-wise, and boring in other respects. Taiga, who had been brought to be a glorified whore, was now seated at the poker table, owner of a shocking mound of gold. He wished he could keep it, but it was really going to the master he’d manipulated into letting him play for him, who stood by his shoulder with a shit-eating grin.

“Fold,” a vampire across said with disgust, and put down a terrible hand of cards, before pushing back and making his way disgustedly to the drinks table, leaving a seat empty at the table.

Taiga was wearing a perfect poker face. No expressions, no tells. He didn’t even smile.

Often did Brutias find himself at a party that he, truly, would have rather not been at. With his brother being a formidable council member, he was often invited to many parties and, most of the time, the plus one that he opted to take was his elder brother, the respected brutal, yet calm, warrior that many often went to to train their pets for the blood sport. It was tireless, really, to attend gathering after gathering... but there was one thing that made it a bit more memorable.

Eyes simply watched as a human seemed to be cleaning house of various masters at the table, a game of luck and chance - with a bit of strategy - being dominated by the pet. It was interesting, really, but what was the most interesting was the fact that the human had yet to give up anything, his face completely devoid of any expression to reveal what he might’ve possessed. It was interesting, but what was more interesting was the thick stack of gold that sat near him.

Now, Brutias often enjoyed earning gold himself... but this was something entirely new. A different way to make use of a pet. And it had him... interested to see just how good the man was. Especially against one that wouldn’t be affected by alcohol. So as the cards were shuffled again, the beast of a man moved to find one of the vacant seats before he sat a few gold coin down - his buy-in.

“Let us see if you can make this dragon part with his gold,” he stated at the human, orange eyes looking at him as a smirk teased the corners of his lips.

[brutias]

kitsune-ashtyn:

The dragon clearly wasn’t giving in so easily but that didn’t encourage Ashtyn to stop, in fact, the other’s brief wandering eyes around the bar only intrigued him more. It seemed his image was worth more than the joy that would come from putting Ashtyn in his place in front of his fellows. And by the sound of the other’s harsh voice, he wanted very much to do just that. Ashtyn was nothing without attention so he couldn’t help but pout when the other left him with an ultimatum. Once Brutias was completely out of sight, Ash took a quick shot of vodka from the bar and then stepped in the other’s direction; It was going to be a long night of trying to stir awake the monster inside of the dragon and alcohol always helped. “Alright, dragon. I followed.” Ash didn’t close the distance between them at first, his eyes darting up to the other’s as a smile lined his features. “A dragon who thinks highly of other’s opinions, how peculiar. Now that no-one is watching, are you going to do to me what you wish you could have in there? ” 

Maybe it was strange for Brutias to care about what took place in a tavern, but Brutias was a man with a reputation. And as the brother of Krod, he was looked at more than most dragonborn. It was why his reputation as one of the more calmer dragonborn was so well-founded, because of his status as the brother of a council member and a highly sought after trainer. “You say that as if kitsune are not ones that like to be unpredictable,” the dragon teased as he turned to face the much smaller male, staring down at him with his orange eyes roaming across his features. "But no, I am not. Not only is it abundantly clear that you want me to fuck you against this wall, but I do not have my lube on me... and believe me when I say that you need my lube.” Having lube that was enchanted by warlocks to ensure that whoever it was applied to wouldn’t feel any pain, or be ripped by the stretch of his mammoth prick, was essential when it came to his coupling. “But if you are not afraid of heights... I can fly us to my estate?”

[brutias]

pyvor:

Any other master would’ve considered this a victory, it didn’t seem the dragonborn was much of a threat now, a mistake anyone could’ve made, he was certain that Brutias was smarter than to look at this as some kind of surrender. Fingers scratched against his rugged beard with a disapproving motion of his head, he loathed everything about this. From being locked away in a foreign city, to being own by someone else and to never being able to see his family, again. “Good! Consider me at your service..” Listening to the dragonborn speak, he quirked an eyebrow at the following statement. “I’ll need to know the expectations first, if you were to claim me. I suggest you tell me them now so there’s no surprises.”

Having been alive for over four millennia, Brutias was certainly smart enough to know that a Zanir clan member wouldn’t just surrender and he was smart enough to know that, like himself, the man before him was no doubt calculating a plan. But whatever the plan might be, Brutias knew that he would have to be careful... and be ten steps ahead. He couldn’t simply give the man access to his clan, to let him write letters... he’d have to scan them to ensure that nothing untoward would have happened.

Still, as the pet told him that he’d be at his service, he couldn’t help but smile. It may not have been a victory, but it was at least one step - in a long journey - to gaining the trust of the Zanir clan. “As stated before, my expectations would be that you wouldn’t be forced to lie with me. If I were to claim you, you’d be my champion, not a whore. You’d be allowed privileges, allowed out of my castle and in the city in daylight hours, and any master that dares try to hurt you or force themselves on you will be dealt with harshly by me.”

Pausing, the taller male took a step towards the younger one, tilting his head to the side momentarily. “You will also be expected to undergo training. I have no doubts that you are a formidable fighter among your clan... but one can always better themselves. And I think you would have no qualms with learning from myself?” he questioned, playfulness to his tone before he took a step back. “I would give you more stipulations once you were claimed, of course, but for now I think that will suffice. Unless you have anything specific you are curious about?”

[brutias]

pyvor:

The legendary warrior stood over one foot taller than his half-breed brethren, that didn’t implement fear or intimidation in Pyvor. Never being able to see his family or anything outside of the walls of the city, that scared him. Tilting his head down, contemplating to himself - he had the opportunity to plea anything of the master. Other than escaping there was one other favor that he hankered for, something he was certain the master could do for him, but would he? That was the million dollar question. “Okay…” Coming to the harsh reality that he wouldn’t be getting out of the city, unless it was in a body bag, he nodded his head. “Say I compete for you, let’s just assume I agree to fight for you. I need you to do one thing for me.” Pyvor wasn’t the type to constantly ask for accommodations, he didn’t like asking anyone for anything, he liked to do for himself, but this was something of a necessity.

”I want to write a letter to my family. My brother, my wife and.. my son.” If he was never getting out, there was no sense in having his family wait for him, he figured they’ve waited enough. Being in Aeternum would destroy him, sooner or later, but having his family worry about him, that would destroy him more than anything else. “Extend me that courtesy of making sure my family gets the letter, I’m all yours.”

Orange eyes watched the other closely, carefully, as he listened to his words. At the very least, it seemed as though the warrior realized that it would have been smarter to give into a master’s whims and be treated like a champion instead of beaten and brutalized like a whore, but that didn’t mean that Brutias understood his words. Despite being over four millennia, and having dozens of children, worry about one’s family was something he understood. But he listened, regardless. Lips pressed together, he contemplated the man’s words as he wondered if he should grant him the request.

It would have been simple to simply say he would do so and not, but... he could use it to his advantage and gain information on the Zanir clan for his brother and the council. Get close to the warrior and the clan members, only to betray them. "That seems like a reasonable request...” Brutias finally stated. “I have messengers in my employ, so it would be quite easy to do.” Not to mention that he could read the letters before sending them off to be delivered. 

“Do you have any questions about expectations I may have on you if I were to claim you?”

[brutias]

pyvor:

Something was in it for the dragonborn? Nothing satisfactory. However, Pyvor did listen, attentively to Brutias speak his piece about treatment of his champions. “You’re not getting it, Brutias. It’s not sinking in your thick skull.” Fingers tapped against his own temple to accentuate his message, get his point across as much as he possibly could. This master, like all the others, were hellbent on claiming champions to fight for them, to make their name that much stronger. Pyvor understood in a way. “I am a rebel by design, I dance to the beat of nobody’s drum but my own. I listen to nobody, I don’t follow orders. If I want to slay someone, I do it for my own personal amusement, not because someone told me so and not because you want to be some almighty, all-powerful entity above all the rest.” Getting through Pyvor would be a test of faith, he had no plans of breaking his beliefs for anything.

A question, what could he possibly ask of the elite? He could’ve asked for a ton of things, but there was one thing he ached for in particular. “More of a statement than a question. Show me how to get out of here! That’s all I want from you. If you’re here to recruit, you better look elsewhere because I’ll never fight for you or anyone else.”

Oh, but Brutias did get it. He got it exceptionally well. He knew better than anyone that a Zanir member wasn’t going to give into the whims of a citizen of Aeternum, the clan being notoriously against what the city stood for, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try and see if the man’s allegiances could be bought. That was why he remained calm, despite the half-breed practically insulting him, and he only let out a chuckle as he asked for a way out of here. “Now it seems that you are the one that is not getting it. I do not force anyone to fight for me... I only pick those that are willing to do so,” he started before he paused and turned to face the smaller male as a hint of a smile teased his lips. “I understand that you would not be ordered around or demanded and that is, in fact, something I respect and wouldn’t change about you... but I would, indeed, treat you exceptionally well should you choose to fight for me.”

Choice was rare in the tower, rare in the city, but for Brutias’ champions, it was something he gave them. Because those that had a choice and chose to fight did fare better than those that were forced into such a thing. “And while I would love to give you exactly what you want, I cannot give you everything... Your freedom is something that I do not hold in my hands, and even someone as powerful as I has to answer to the council, so I will say this again... You can ask a question you have about me, but anything related to the city or the tower or how to escape, I cannot help you with. Now, if you do not have anything to ask, then we can head back to your cell... however I do think you are enjoying being able to spread your wings outside of your allotted recess time, mm?” he asked, hint of a teasing smile playing upon his lips. “So what shall it be?”

[brutias]

pyvor:

Mesmerizing, blue hues fixated on the elite master with a backward tendency of his head, allowing him to gaze at the other from another angle. “You know something, big guy? If you think this is doing something for me, it’s not.” Doing as he claimed he would, the Zanir clan member stretched out his right leg, followed by his left. Another second in there and his appendages would’ve certainly cramped up. “First of all, they’re nothing to me. I don’t care about these other slaves, they’re none of my concern.” That would’ve been different if he had any friends down there, like one of his clan members for example, but there weren’t any, least he hoped they weren’t down there. “If you’re going to keep a person in a cell, make sure the cell is big enough for them to fit. Look at me, I’m too big to be in that small cell.”

Standing at six-foot-five and a muscular, athletic built- he didn’t find the joke amusing and he hated small spaces. Being claustrophobic did that, he felt like he was going insane in there. Starting to walk along the master, he looked down and realized he only had on the briefs they had given him. “Uh.. can I least get some pants?” Following the question, thoughts about killing for a sport, he immediately stopped his pace. “Killing for me is a way of life, I kill because I have to survive.” If he had to kill to survive in there, that’s what would happen. “If you mean killing to satisfy you and your vulture-like friends appetite for bloodshed. Forget it. It’s not happening.”

Did Brutias expect his words to have an effect on the young one? Certainly not, but that didn’t stop it from doing so. It had merely been a jest, a tease to show that he had, in fact, given the man something he had wanted, but it seemed the dragonborn wanted to make it clear that he had no love for anyone in the cells. Information that was useful, of course, as it told Brutias that the half-ling would have no qualms or no guilt killing someone. That was always one of the things that kept a pet from being a champion.

Brutias said nothing, though, and allowed the pet to speak until he finally stopped, admitting that he wouldn’t kill to satisfy him or his friends. That had a chuckle leaving his lips. “Mm, I appreciate your fire,” only the best warriors had it, of course, “but you seem to fail to realize that there is something in it for you as well. The men that fight for me? They are treated like champions and receive whatever they want... within reason. And I do not force myself on them, nor do I inflict harsh punishments upon them. That’s more than I can say for some masters.”

Having known that his claim’s last master had not only punished him but forced himself on him... well, it made him sick. To do so to a champion? It was a surprise that Derik still had the will to fight. “But I believe it’s your turn to ask a question of me.”

[brutias]

kltsvne:

he tilted his head, sighing softly at the other’s words but accepting them nonetheless, not now was not a never after all and he figured, given the other’s apparent personality that they would have a lot of fun together, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. “sounds like a plan, dear,” remi purred, lifting his glass in a cheers motion, “it would be my pleasure.”

Though Brutias was known to be gruesome and horrible, within the walls of Aeternum he had a reputation as one of the more calm members of his species. There were others, of course, but Brutias was the most notable given his reputation outside of Aeternum and the way it conflicts against the reputation he holds in the city. That was why he wanted to wait before partaking in anything with the kitsune, not wanting to ruin the reputation that he worked hard for, and when the kitsune agreed, he lifted his own glass. “Then dinner shall be on me.”