FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Original Concept: DragonTalon

Inspiration: Fates of the Unicorns

PLEASE SUPPORT THE ORIGINAL CONCEPT AND INSPIRATION

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Claudius watched the tiger, on the floor, pushing him self up and down. It had been awhile since the cats stark change in attitude toward his possession. The blue-gray wolfhound counted on his fingers and his toes just how many days it had been, deciding the number equaled the total number of digits on both his hands and feat, give or take a toe. Mistress had commanded that the tiger was looking rather lanky, deciding he needed to bulk up. Claudius, Claud for short but only to his friends, didn't disagree and had in fact been a source of encouragement. He would correct the cats posture in the push-up, straitening his back by placing his staff from his shoulders down to his rump, growling if it wasn't straight.

Something had happened, the cat had made a complete 180 in his attitude. He listened to Mistress, followed her orders with out hesitation. Claud was happy for him. Nothing was better than serving in ones place. He barked when he noticed Benjamins back side protruding out farther than his back and gave a satisfied grunt when he tucked it back in. He nodded to the tiger and tapped the floor with his staff, the command to change exercise. The cat was now on his back, knees up and curling forward at the waist in performance of sit ups.

Time came and passed, the cat was sweating. Juno showed up a moment after the tiger finished, taking him to bathe and relieving Claud for the day. He wanted to go with them, to be with his Juno. She wasn't actually his. Juno belonged to Mistress just as he did. But his instincts told him that Juno was the closest thing to a mate that he had here. What ever moments they had together by them selves was spent with either Juno stroking his head as he lay on her lap, or fucking. He did like fucking, and Juno never said no, licking it her self. But they had spent little time together with having to rotate shifts in watching the cat.

Claud did not resent the tiger. He couldn't. He liked him too, just not how he liked Juno. Claud didn't like boys that way, though would pleasure males if Mistress wanted him too. He was grateful that such was rare, Mistress not often accepting guests save for Master Boreous, a green dragoness he had never learned the name of, and the two dragons who assisted Mistress in her office. He huffed, alone now, Junos scent lingering in the air. His kilt tented and he gave a plaintive whine as he looked down at him self.

Back in the male guard bunk, taken care of, he sighed as he looked at himself in the full body mirror. He stared long and hard. What he saw was some one different then he had once been. Claud was not stupid, he was not a dullard or a simpleton. Behind his grey eyes was a sharp intelligence and instinct honed in flames of war, combat, and past mistakes. A life time of searching for something it had taken a near life time to find. Oddly enough, it had found him.

He sat down on his bed, a single instead of the bunk-bed style that lined the room on either side. As head of the male guard he had privileges, privileges he not always had. He had little else to do in the day until Mistress sent for him; he used these times to think about the past. His mind maybe sharp but it is also addled. One too many blows to the head leaving him with no ability to speak save for barks, growls, and whimpers. Claudius, he thought to him self. Claudius the Indomitable: Champion of the Blood Pit.

---

Claudius was done, finished. He was sick of it all. Soldiering had been a waste. Nothing but marching, guarding federal assets, and only once did he get to make his claymore sing. Mercing had been advertised as an adventurers life. Wine, women, money, and all the action he wanted. It was nothing more than marching and contract protection of federal or private assets. The action had been more frequent but still nothing more than minor. Mostly baby sitting important figures and stuffy dignitaries. He grew frustrated with it because any time he drew his massive sword with intent to wade into combat it quickly ended. No one wanted to cross blades with a fur who could wield a sword bigger than them, one handed at that. No one, he had been told, except a dragon.

He had seen them in his time as a merc. Spoke with them at length about combat and the front lines. Some where open about their war with the bugs, others changed the subject, and still others gave him a condescending shake of the head and told him not to worry about it. "Stuck up gits." He had said of them. He was thinking back on it all as he road a cargo train headed north. Sick, tired, done. He had searched his entire life for a challenge and something...something more. He sighed as he sat at the edge of the open cargo door, the world passing him by and slowly turning more and more hilley.

"All right!" Claudius shouted. "Which one of you soft skinned, lily-livered, little scale-brains thinks you're the baddest mother fucker here?" He had left the train and asked about for the closest slave camp. Furs in the town had looked at him bug eyed and like their were worms crawling from his ears. No one save a shady looking rat had given him even the slightest information. The camp was clear into dragon lands, across the border. He had walked for two days to get to it. He had hopped for a bit of scrapping along the way but had been woefully unmolested the entire journey. He had made his presence known rather boisterously to the camp just on its out skirts. Three had charged him almost immediately, two lay dead and the other bleeding. He smirked, blood dripped from the incredible length of his sword. "Come on, that's it? Just three of you?"

A female casually walked toward him. He raised his sword and she held up a hand. "You want the baddest? Come with me." She held a smile, turning her hand out as if to offer it. He starred at it disdainfully. She dropped it and shrugged, turning to walk away. He followed after her. Others around stood on guard as he passed, weapons drawn. He sneered at each and every single one of them.

He was lead deeper into the camp, tents growing thicker. There were slaves moving from tent to tent carrying various item, male and female, or bent over logs and stones spread open and usable by any one. Some were receiving attention, either a hard fucking or a hard beating. What ever entertained the dragons. The female looked back over her shoulder, smirking. "New stock. Breaking in the worst of 'em."

"Don't care. Not here to rescue them." The wolfhound said, getting a raised brow from the female.

"Doesn't bother you at all?" she asked, slowing. He put the tip of his still drawn sword to her back.

"I've seen worse. Keep walking." he barked, sounding for all the world like he was the one in charge here. She laughed.

A solid, more permanent structure was near the middle of the camp. It was a simple wooden structure with stone siding for weathering. The female knocked on a nude fox male with a collar ringed with green jewel studs opened it. "Hey Felix. Mastor Rohk has a guest. A mistrer...uhhhh..."

"Claudius." the wolfhound growled. The female stepped aside. Claudius stood there, tarten kilt and vest. Sword in hand and staring down at the little fox fur. Felix shook and nodded.

"Uhhhh...Master!?" He shouted. There was a growl from deeper in.

"Who the hell do you think you are you furry little whelp. I'll skin you alive for shouting at me like some common-" Rohk fell silent when his eyes met Claudius. He pushed the fox aside so hard that the fur fell on his ass, he swiftly moved to his knees and bent down to begin licking at the large black males feet.

"I've been told dragons like a good fight, impeccable warriors. Two dead and one dieing. So far I'm unimpressed." Claudius said sardonically, sneering.

The winged black dragon, Rohk, huffed. He turned his attention from the wolfhound to the female who had brought him. "Two dead?" he asked dispassionately. The female nodded.

"Yes sir. Two dead. The third one was being taken to the medical tent when I brought...Claudius here." She looked over at the dog, her features hid what ever she may be feelings. Claudius had eyes only for Rohk, judging his size and the way he held himself. His indifference to dead comrades wasnt too surprising. He knew dragons respected martial prowess and skill. He ran a hand over the top of his bare head and along one of his horns. He let out a long sigh.

"Gonna be one of those days." he said with exasperation. He turned to the wolfhound and crossed his arms over his chest. He was also sizing the fur. His dress wasn't too different form his own. The dragon wore a slate gray kilt with a large leather belt, cuffs, chains, and leashes dangled from it as well at the scabbard of a large broad sword. His chest was covered by crossed leather straps, studded and ringed. Over it was a tan leather fest, the shoulders of which covered in furred patches. "Two dead and one possibly dieing.... As you said, not impressed. We loose bodies in almost every raid,a handful every time. What IS impressive though is that you did it by your self. You have my interest, dog. Obviously you want something, other wise you would still be swinging. You have the ear of Rohk."

Dog? Dog! Claudius wasn't just some dog. He was a proud highlander from an ancient clan. And unlike those mongrel great houses they had survived, endured. The connection between those in clans was not by blood, but rather the willingness to spill it. He ground his teeth, suppressing his snarl. "A challenge." He said, raising his sword and setting the tip to the ground, holding the massive five feet vertically and on full display. "My claymore against that toothpick on your hip."

Rohk blinked, unmoving. He had to admit the weapon was impressive. A hilt large enough for both hands yet he wielded it with one. The cross guard was longer than average with the bars sloped forward and spatulated at the ends with quatrefoil tips about the size of a gold coin. Despite its simlicity there was a beauty to it. The blade was polished and well taken care off. Its wielder was just as impressive. As large as he and muscles so well developed his fur sloped between them to clearly define their shape and size. His gray eyes burned with an intensity and determination and his neck bulged with what he could assume was indignation. "I meant no offense, if that's what you took. You ARE a dog, aren't you? I only referred to your species."

"Ignorant. I am a wolfhound and a son of Clan Krishim." He gestured to his kilt. "No mere dog. Soldier, mercenary, but never once have I truly considered my self a warrior. Woefully deprived a chance to prove my self in true conflict." Claudius spoke the last several words dispiritedly. "I had HOPED you dragons would offer that chance." He turned slightly, holding an arm out in the direction he had come. "Am I mistaken?"

Rohk stepped forward through the door. "Tessa." He said with out turning to the dragoness. "Head in and remind Felix of the proper way to speak to ones master." She gave a dark smirk and nodded, closing the door. Felix simply heaved a long sigh and held his head down. "So..." Rohk said, stepping forward. He was eye to eye with the fur. "You want a challenge...to prove your self? What for? Who judges you and to what end?"

"My self." Claudius stated flatly, head raised in pride. The dragon waited but he said no more.

"Walk with me." Rohk grunted, turning on his to the left and striding away. Claudius gave an annoyed growl and followed after. "You," Rohk pointed at a passing dragon. "Go find five others. Meet at the pit." The dragon simply nodded and double timed it in the opposite direction.

The pit was little more than a circular dent in the dirt, about half a foot lower than the ground around it and roughly fifty feet in diameter. Two furs were currently in it, boxing one another bare handed while a tall, skinny dragon watched with narrowed eyes Naked save for red stoned collars and linen wraps around their knuckles. They traded punches, the strikes fast and hard and real. A lion threw a fist at his great dane counter part, landing a blow to the front of his jaw and dropping him to his knees. "That's enough!" the dragon barked just as the lion looked like he was ready to pounce. "Front and center." The lion's fist opened into a hand and the dane took it, pulled to his feet. The both sprinted to the edge of the pit and knelt. "Rorak, you need to keep your left up. Stop favoring your right."

"Yes, Master!" The Dane shouted, bleeding just slightly from the mouth.

The dragon turned and nodded to Rohk. "Greet the Warden on your way out. Chow hall, not a word while you eat, then return to your posts. Rorak, you crawl."

"Yes, Master!" they both shouted in unison, the lion running, bowing swiftly to Rohk as he passed. "Master, Warden Rohk." he said. The dane crawled on all fours, bowing to his shoulders and putting his face into the dirt, repeating the same words. Rohk nodded, waving them both away. The tall dragon, a sickly brown in collar paced the edge of the pit to where Rohk and Claudius stood. "Warden? Who's your guest?"

"Tiberius, this is Claudius." Tiberius offered a hand to Claudius who gave it the same disdainful look at before.

"Do they not have friendly greeting where you come from, Claudius?" Tiberius asked. The wolfhound jammed his sword into the dirt, and took it. He clasped it firmly. Tiberius raised a brow at the sword. "You left him armed?" he asked of Rohk, trying not to sound too reproachful.

"He let him self in." Rohk shrugged, tossing a hand out to the pit. "I've been challenged." Tiberius gave a laugh as he stood back.

"By this fur?" he shook his head incredulously, chuckling. Claudius raised his blade and pointed the tip to Tiberius's throat. The dragon swiftly stepped to the side, grabbing at Claudius's wrist. Claudius crossed his left arm over his right in a hard hook, fist connecting with the dragons jaw. He took the end of the hilt of his sword with the same hand and turned the other to swing his whole body in a vicious back slash. Tiberius threw him self backward out of the way. "Whoa-ho-ho...okay. He has some spunk. Not to bad, for a fur."

Rohk nodded. The fur could move. He had expected him to be slow, as big as he is. But he realized now that while wide and well muscled it had little impact on his speed. His skill with his comically large sword wasn't something to laugh at he could now see. He gave Tiberius a wink and then smiled as six dragon approached them.

"Sir, as you asked. Six of us." The dragon from before addressed the warden with a respectful tone, saluting. He shot a glance at Tiberius and Claudius. "We're judging?"

"Yes, but not these two. Me and, er, the wolfhound. Claudius, stop harassing Tiberius. He was only testing you." Claudius turned slowly, his face a menacing scowl. "Calm down. If you want this fight to happen it happens on our terms." Claudius shot another look back to Tiberius, his hands raised and smiling affably. He eased and lowered his sword, picking it up to lay the flat on his shoulder. He regarded Tiberius for a moment and then curled a lip.

"Feh." The fur grunted, turning away and stepped into the pit. "Enough talk, enough tests. We fight and we do it now."

Rohk stepped into the pit behind him, but shook his head. "Some rules first." Claudius snarled, taking a step toward Rohk, he simply stepped forward him self. "You come into my camp. You kill two of my sentinels and put a third in the hospital. You disrespect my captain and you assault my master armsman. By all rights I should order every dragon here to subdue you, make you kneel, gag you, and then let every single dragon and slave here have their way with you until you're nothing more than a walking puddle of shaggy cum. And THEN have you executed. The only reason that isn't so is because you interest me. Now you WILL be patient and you WILL hear what I have to say."

Claudius calmed, balking. He narrowed his eyes but loward his blade to the ground, standing over it with hands on the cross guard arms. "Then speak. I've told you what I'm here for. I've been patient enough at it grows thin."

Rohk sneered at the furs insolence. He gestured at the six dragons now sitting at the edge of the ring pit. "They are our judges. Combat is simple. We each fight until they decide we're done. You go until they rule that one of us can no longer continue. Once three judges stand the duel is over. There are no limits, no holds bared, no fouls save for knocking your opponent out of the ring. If you are knocked out of the ring you WILL allow your opponant to step back in. Refusal is a forfeit. Willfully stepping out of the ring is a forfeit. You step out and you submit. IF you win you will be allowed to leave, unmolested. Not just this camp but the Empire's lands. Judges will rule by standing. They will raid either their left or right hand to indicate who they favor. Right for you, left for me. A knock out blow, rendering your opponent unconscious, does not constitute a victory. You keep going until THEY say you are victorious."

Claudius nodded slowly, taking his sword back up. Rohk drew his own and crocuhed. "Begin!" he shouted and threw his blade to guard against the downward swing the fur brought down on him. The edde of the claymore impacted the blade with a rang and drove the dragon down to one knee. Rohk threw himself forward in a lunge and wraped an arm around Claudius' waste. The fur brought the pommel of the blade into the back of the dragons neck and brought his knee up into his chin. Rohk gaahed as he the blow clipped the edge of his jaw and tossed him side way. He rolled just in time to dodge a downward thrust. Claudius kicked into the dirt with his toes and kicked a spray of dirt into the dragons face. Rohk closed his eyes, avoiding a blinding cloud. He thrust with his sword and was parried. He rolled forward to avoid a counter and slashed out at the wolfhounds leg as he passed, drawing blood and making the canine stumble.

Claudius had drawn first blood. He had seen the drip of red on the dragons lips before he had rolled out of the way of his stab. He had kicked out with his right leg to smack the dragon in the head, digging his feet into the sand to blind him at the same time. He had failed on both counts and now his leg was bleeding. "One for one." he said, smiling brightly. Every fight before, the few opponents who had summoned the balls to stand before him had been ended with single swings. Their rapiers and cutlasses shattered under his vertical slash. He had intended to do the same to Rohks broadsword but when all it did was ring he determined it must have been made of stronger stuff. He sprang forward, swinging horizontally. The dragon parried and ran the flat of his blade down the claymore, catching it in the forward curved hilt. Claudius leaned forward, muzzle to muzzle. "I had heard dragon steel was strong. Once I'm down sticking your head on a pike I'll see about melting your blade down, render it into a proper sword fit for cu-hound; name it after you." Rohk swung his elbow out, cracking it against Claudius' nose, sending the fur back peddling and snarling as blood streamed from his face.

One of the six dragons stood, raising his left hand. Claudius looked at him with indignation. "I'm still on my feet you blind git." He called, whipping blood from his face on to his arm, snorting and sending a spray of it onto the ground. He spat, tasting copper. Both his nose and his mouth were bleeding.

"Your nose looks broken." Rohk said, swinging, ducking under the horizontal counter and twisting aroudn to build momentum and brought his elbow into the fur's side. He could feel several ribs break. The fur howled in pain. Rohk rose under and hooked his free arm under Claudius' arm and pushed forward after locking a foot around his ankle, sending him to the ground. He grabbed the furs wrist as he fell, twisting his sword arm and snapping several bones. The claymore clattered to the dirt. A second dragon rose, left hand raised. "I'll admit the first one was premature...he should have known better." He gave a sharp scowl to the first dragon, who averted his gaze. "Sit down Luscious. We'll apply your call to Hectors." The second dragon nodded, sitting back down and crossing his legs. Rohk took several steps back and gestured to the sword. "You still have your left hand, this fights not over."

Claudius rolled forward and over his sword, taking it in his hand and thrusting forward. Rohk sidestepped him and brought his hilt down on the back of Claudius' head. He uffed and fell face first into the dirt. Rohk gave him a kick to the gut, made all the more painful with three broken ribs. Claudius curled into a ball and Luscious stood back up with his left hand raised. Rohk let the fur quiver until the pain subsided enough that he could fight through it. He stood shakily back on his feet. He gave an unwieldy slash and the dragon ducked, turning under it. Claudius used the momentum still in the swinging blade to curve it back up and bring it down from on high. Rohk swiftly turned around and spread his wings, clapping them out behind him. With the distraction taking the force out of the swing he turned to his side, knocked the falling blade away and kicked out, sending the dog off his feet to land on his back. He gaged as the air left his lungs, hand smacking down to take up his hilt. Rohk kicked it out of reach and then stabbed down, running his blade through the wolfhounds chest. The third dragon rose, left handed. It was over.

Claudius smiled. He watched the blood well around the blade sticking out of him and stain his blue-gray fur. "End it...give it a twist." He breathed. He had been bested and felt alive for but a few short minutes. An honorable death awaited him and he lay his head back and closed his eyes, waiting for the searing pain to send him on his way. He lay there like that. Instead of the twist he felt the blade pulled away swiftly. His eyes shot open as he howled again. "END IT!" he snarled. He knew the wound alone wouldn't kill him. The blade had missed his heart by an inch.

"I already have." Rohk punched him square in the front of the jaw, knocking him out cold. "Get him under the needle. Patch him up. Restrain him." The six who had judged the match all hopped into the pit to carry Claudius away. Rohk was breathing hard. That had been a real fight, his heart raced and his ears rang. He had to fight from laughing. "What do you think Tiberius?"

Tiberius sucked in a breath and held it for a moment, trying to think of the best words to use. He let it out as a hiss. "His faith in his clan gives him a remarkably strong ideal of honor and sense of self worth. He marched right in here with no regard for his own well being. Didn't so much as bat an eye at the slaves. Challenged the 'baddest mother fucker' to single combat. A broken wrist, broken ribs, broken nose, and steel to the chest and then demanded you end him? Sir, he's a warrior."

Rohk rubbed at his chin, stinging where he had been struck. "Not gonna happen, is it?" he sighed. Tiberius shook his head.

"No sir. Dog has a code of honor. You violated it. He'll resist out of spite. And after every thing you did to him, and he still tried to fight? He has the will to do it." He shrugged. Rohk nodded.

"Oh well...more meat for the meat grinder then." he said, shrugging as well. He sheathed his sword. He watched as Tiberius walked out into the middle of the ring and bent down to pick up the claymore.

"Whoa...this thing's heavy. One handed...ha..."

---

"Kill me!" Claudius had made a full recovery, but as Tiberius had stated had resist every effort to break him. As soon as he had been strong enough he had been collard. He had been beaten, raped by both male and female. He had been subjected to levels of pain only thought imaginable by furs and still he resisted

Rohk sat on a stoll at the end of his bed. A steel frame single. His ankles and wrists were shackled to legs and head frame. His chest had healed. It had been touch and go those few months. Any time some one had come to dress the wound he would have to be restrained, some times sedated. With clinical hands, and a bit of magic, the wound had healed fine despite his constant struggles. Rohk had been questioned more than once why he kept the fur, why bother keeping him alive when he so obviously wanted death. Demanding it, screeching for it every time he was conscious enough to do more than babble under the effect of drugs or stare balefully. Rohk sighed, he opened his mouth to say something but closed it, narrowing his eyes. He had Claudius' claymore, spinning it on the tip absently "Why?" he asked.

Claudius stared at him wide eyed. He struggled in his bindings, leaning forward as far as his arms would let him. He strained, groaning. A dragon stepped forward from his side and pushed him back before he could pop his arms out of his sockets as he had already done once before. Rohk had given orders to keep him alive and unharmed. But looking at him he could see that they followed the order to the bare minimum. His fur was long and shaggy, matted and twisted in places and overgrown over his eyes. He had refused to eat what food was brought for him and was force fed every evening and every morning. His form had atrophied a bit, a lack of movement and exercise. Claudius jerked his head up, snorting and sticking his neck out. "You think I want to live like this?"

"You don't have to. You could be out there. Tiberius asks about you, every time I visit." Rohk spoke softly, still spinning the sword. "You know...for a dragon, finding purpose means every thing."

"My purpose is to die."

"No! You simple minded jack-ass. Death is never a purpose. Life. Life is purpose. Why do you think I keep you alive. I-"

"To torment me. To gloat. To hang my shame over my head and revel in my dispair. For a few brief moments I lived. Beidh Laidir sang so sweetly as she carved through the air...ahh...if only she could have felt bone. Two just wasn't enough..." Rohk lookedfr om him to the sword in his hand. He hefted it and laid it over his lap.

"This is Beidh Laidir?" he asked. Claudius nodded. "An impressive blade." he said, shifting and clearing his throat. "About twenty years ago, I enlisted in the army. I had dreamed of fighting on the front lines. I was always a big dragon: strong, strong willed and skilled. But not skillful enough. I had made it all the way through training but had failed the final test. You know, I felt no shame. There was none to feel. It is not shameful to fail. Rather, it's elating. You have reached a limit, and know more about your self than you did before. I came here, to the borders. Its what most of us do when we wash out of basic training. We can put what skills we learned to use. Most furs are no match for a dragon warrior...most." he said, standing and hefting the sword. Claudius gave a relieved gasp, tilting his head back as Rohk raised the sword and then growled as it was passed to an attendant. The dragoness carried the claymore out out of the large tent. "Beidh Laidir will continue to sing, in dragon hands. It will be reinforced with dragon steel and sent to the front lines. I'm more than sure there is a dragon there who can put it to use better than I, or even you. As for you...you seek death you'll have it. I'd much rather put you to use right here in this camp. I had hoped to call you slave captain Claudius. Tiberius was right, though. That's not going to happen." he sighed, running his hand over his neck and twisting his head, a staccato of pops cracking from his spine. "You were bought last night. The Colosseum has a constant need for fresh meat."

---

The gladius in his right hand was a far cry from his clayomore. It sang every time he swung with it but the tune was different. He had gone through several of them in the last eight months, they just kept breaking. He shambled on weak knees to the elk baying on the ground. He grunted as he drove the tip into the neck of the cervus, feeling the sword catch between the vertebrae on the back of her neck. He twisted and silenced her cries. The blade snapped from the hilt as the edge of the blade broke her spine. She had fought with all her strength and will, deserved a quick warriors death. The crowed around the pit roared its appreciation, calling and chanting his name over and over. He lifted his arms triumphantly. Another gladiator dead in the blood pit. The crowed roared with greater ferocity as he back handed one of the two dragons that had come out to lead him back to the bloodworks. He was tackled by the other and a third and forth came dashing up to hold him down and leash his collar, dragging him away kicking.

He was shoved up into his bindings in a small cell, barley larger than he. A closet of stone and steel with enough room for him to hang from a wall and enough for his captor to stand far enough back out of reach of his barking and snapping jaws. "Shut it!" the dragon roared, striking the side of his head with a truncheon baton. He bled from just above his eye. He had suffered far more and worse over the past year. Constant injuries, sickness, dehydration, and hunger had begun effecting his mind. The blood shed, fighting for his own life, fending off both slaves and dragons who would try to kill him out of the blood pit, or worse. He had thought he could take it. Rumors and stories of what dragons did to furs was little preparation for the real thing, what they had done in the slave camp was a paradise vacation compared to the Colosseum. He had fought every step of the way, killing for survival. Every day was harder than the last though. He had been declared a champion of the ring, a favored son of the Colosseum for those efforts. Every one who had stood before him had been lain in the dirt to bleed. The stress of dual matches, chained to another slave and having to fight in uncoordinated and carry his partner, some times literally. He had retreated into him self to avoid the horrors. The stress of dual matches, chained to another slave and having to fight in uncoordinated and carry his partner, some times literally. He had retreated into him self to avoid the horrors. Just slightly more than animal now. He growled at the dragon staring at him. A son of these gutless, under grown wyrms.

"Had multiple offers on your head. Some wanted you dead. Guess too many people were loosing money on your wins and were willing to pay to rig it. One offer came directly through the military though." He tucked his club into his belt and stepped out of the room, a tall shapely orange dragoness stepping in his place, snapping the metal door shut behind her. She smiled at him. He gave her a look of bewilderment. No dragon had given him such a look since the day he was thrown beaten and bloody into his cell.

"My Name is Kelsura. I know all about you Claudius. Claudius the Indomitable. Claudius the Bloody Handed. Claudius the Wolf. Claudius, son of Krishim." Claudius jolted. His chains rattled a moment. His snarling ceased. "That's better. You were a soldier in the First Recon of the Republic Armed Forces. You left after the minimum three year tour. Almost immediately you joined with the Black Tail Private Security company." He was staring at her with a look something akin to astonishment, though the welt forming above his head made it more like a concussion. She gave a bemused smile and nodded. "Yes, I know all of this. You became something of a special interest when you barged into one of our forward camps, killed three-yes, three. The third one didn't survive his wounds-of our slavers, and then gave the warden a personal challenge. In his report Rohk spoke of you...rather highly. He tried to fight your purchase, put it off as long as he could. He tried to buy you himself but his pockets don't run as deep as the Colosseums. If a fur can go toe-to-toe with four dragons and then resist weeks of torture...well.... He really thought there was something special about you, as do I. I've been watching your matches...and making quite a bit of money on the side." she smirked. "Well, at this juncture in time there's a choice to be made. You can go back out to one last fight where, I assure you, you'll find the death you so desire. Or...you can come with me, leave this all behind."

He studied her nonplussed. He waited for her to laugh. The punchline had already been given. Give up, let go, stop resisting. He didn't like the joke. She looked on at him placidly as he leaned forward against his chains, snapping his jaw once more, snarling and gnashing. He stopped out of astonishment when her hand struck his cheek. She slapped him. "I'm not asking you to give up, you senseless animal. Stop fighting and listen." he gave a threatening growl but eased on his restraints, tilting her head to show he was curious. "You're a warrior, that much can be seen. The way you carry your self, the way you fight. The way you kill. You deliver a swift end to those who stand against you until their last breath. You honor their death and carve their names into the wall of your cell and set it with your own blood. You guard their memory. You killed a guard who had come to wipe their names away, tore his tongue out and then attempted to force feed it to the one who tried to save him." She tried to suppress a chuckle. Imagining it must have been rather entertaining to watch. Claudius held nothing back, laughing openly as he remembered that evening with some fondness. The startled cry of the second dragon as he tore the tongue out of the mouth of the first, punching him in the mouth so hard his jaws parted. He had screamed at him to choke on it, over and over until two more could subdue him.

"I despise what they do to you here." she whispered once he had calmed his mirth. She took a step forward. "They want you to fight, to kill, but every night they try and beat that fight out of you." She shook her head, speaking softly. She was with in arms reach now. "I don't want you to stop being a warrior." He could bite her throat out, spit the flesh and blood down into her face as she clawed at the hole in her neck. She was touching him now. He growled a warning but she didn't cease, fingers unfastening the latch of the leather galerus on his left arm and wrapped around his chest. She pulled the sleeve free , letting it drop to the floor. "What I want is for you to stop being so suicidal. You failed, you found that one test you couldn't pass and so now seek death. Failure is not a reason to die. It is reason to move on to the next challenge, to test your self again. Failure does not strip you of pride, it builds it. You know your limits and that is a glorious thing. You couldn't best Rohk. Few could. Rohk is a warrior dragon, and would have been a soldier had he been able to best the psychological testing before being sent to the front line. Instead of seeing what happened as an end, see it for what it is: a step in a different direction."

He was quiet now. She continued to speak to him, stripping him slowly of his clothes and armor. His sandles, then his leg guards. She dropped hit belt and placed a hand under his chin, her fingers curling under his ear and claws scratching softly. He felt his leg spasm in response. He jerked his head away. He wanted to bite that orange hand off of her wrist but couldn't find the will to do it. He dropped, the chains holding him off his feet unbolted from the wall. He was free. He could end this worthless lump of scales and then go back to his cell. They would beat him, but there was no point in killing him if the next match could do that for them, and provide a show of blood and entertainment. "Claudius. Temper your ideals. You finished your challenge now start a new one. Leave here with me. I will arm you with any weapon you feel most comfortable with. You've spent part of your life protecting the memories of worthy slaves, now spend the rest of if protecting their lives."

He let out a long dissatisfied and quiet growl. He drew in a breath and then let it go. A slave. Meat for the meat grinder. A dead fur walking. Just another spectacle. She had left his leather strap kilt and he looked down at the large medallion set in the belt. The claw and trident. He huffed, gesturing towards her and then spread his arms, crossing them then. She blinked at him nonplussed a few times as he tilted his head and gave an expectant whine. She had heard part of his mind had gone. It was interesting to see that he still understood most concepts, but it would be frustrating that he could not communicate in little more than body language, barks, and whines. He groaned in frustration, tilting his head back and pointing at his collar, then to her. "Ah," she said, understanding and nodding. "That's up to you. I've said that is your choice. I can't let you go Claudius. You would just back to that reckless life. I want you to be a warrior, a warrior with something more than a death wish: purpose."

The guard opened the door after Kelsura had rapped on the inside softly. She smiled at him and thanked the dragon. When she walked out completely she did so with her tail wrapped around Claudius's neck. He followed her willingly on his knees. He paused, looking up at the bloodworks guard and snarled. Kelsuras pointed tail tap smacked his nose. "No. No more of that. Even if you may not like them you will treat all dragons with respect. Do you understand Claudius? Claudius?"

-

"Claudius!?" Claudius started. He was on his feet in an instant, his cudgel swinging through the air before him. The club was snatched out of his hand and he felt his feet pulled from under him. Juno was on top of him, staff at his neck. Kelsura stood next to the kangaroo and gently pushed the rod away. Claudius moved onto his knees and gave a long plaintive whine. He bent forward at the dragons feet, his chin caught in her hand before he open his mouth. She pulled him back up, standing him and dusting off his shoulders. "What were you thinking off?" The dog shifted on his feet, looking at the floor. He ran a hand over the gold circle in his belt. "That was over twelve years ago." she said, giving him a worried look. He simply whined in response.

Kelsura studied her pet for a moment. He held his head down. Juno twirled his cudgel between her fingers nonchalant as she stood to the side. "Claud, you should be sleeping." She stated. The wolfhound nodded and crawled into his bed. He curled up and pulled his cover tight over him. She looked from the sulking Claudius to Juno. She held back a smiled. "Juno, stay here and keep an eye on him."

"Yes Ma'am. What about the tiger?"

Kelsura shrugged. "I think Walter's earned the opportunity to head the night guard. I doubt one fur will give him a problem." Juno nodded, Kelsura could see the barley contained jubilation in the fur. "Besides," she continued archly "You could use a break" She smirked, stepping out of the bunk room. She had barley took two steps when she heard Claudius let out loud, and happy bark, Juno cried out and laughed. That's better, Kelsura thought to her self happily. Happy slaves made for a happy lair