[center][h2][color=crimson]Heccarim[/color][/h2][sub] Husband of Arden [@Pupperr] and Sorrin [@WeepingLiberty][/sub] [/center]

With a sinister smile, Heccarim allowed the simple swinging and clanging of his chains to answer the taller, stronger looking one's question; her mind would provide her with answer, if they were right or wrong wasn't the concern of the Graven Warden. A sadistic enjoyment washed over the Drakkan as he saw his brides tremble in place and learned their names, oh what beautiful names.

Not one for making nicknames or mockery, Heccarim did his best to remember their names as he once again swung around them, checking their bindings, and ignoring Arden's outcries,[color=crimson] "The Drakka call me the Grave Warden of Harand Kor, you will do the same in calling me 'Warden' if you cannot bring yourself to say the full. Prisoners are regularly chained… standard practice no?"[/color]

With formalities complete, Heccarim dragged the chains as he left the hall, pulling the Gems off their feet as he vanished from sight. He was finally done having to be in thie cursed city with nothing to do and no one to torment outside of small children. There was little business for the Warden to attend to at a feast as the position of Warden was often outside whatever courtly intrigue or conspiracy that other titles had to deal with. To Heccarim such an arrangement was perfectly fine although he would miss the food. In his younger years before he became Warden he had gone to a few parties and feasts and the food was really the only thing that kept him there. Of course that all stopped when his father died, but duty calls and he was oath bound to answer.

Avoiding the main thoroughfares and streets, Heccarim lead the Gems in and out of shadows, away from public view. While other Drakkan would no doubt take the time to flaunt their new found gains and parade them in varying degrees of humiliation, the persona of the Warden wouldn't. Instead the image of passing shadows and ghosts being pulled from view would fit the mystic more; any pained cries or discomforts by the Gems would only heighten such a sight.

Finally out beyond the walls, Heccarim came to an abrupt halt. The warmth of the sun made him snarl and he blinked sweat out of his eyes, by the gods he couldn't wait to leave. Still clutching the chains, he produced a bell from his body and vigorously shook it three times. Three times it cried like a tormented church bell and from the edge of the Warden's gaze came a carriage. Something wrapped in thick cloth covered in deep red stains was chained to the back of the carriage; it did not move. Two ghastly beasts whipped by a hooded figure pulled a black coffin carriage and from the back, a pair of deformed, tiny goblins rolled out.

[i]"Master! Master!"[/i] the larger one called out,  prostating before the Warden, [i]"Kreek has taken most loving care of carriage yes yes!"[/i]
[i]"Streek has taken most loving care of horses yes yes!"[/i] the smaller one cried, groveling at the Warden's feet.

The two creatures barely measured two feet in height and were part of a tribal society that had lived in the mountains of Harand Kor since before it was settled. When the original settlers came, they easily subjugated the race known as "Hoblars". Wretched and twisted beings, they spent their lives scheming and backstabbing one another while brown nosing to those above them. More than one prisoner tried to employ them in their escape, but for every Hoblar that tried to help a prisoner, ten more would run to the Warden or his jailers to prove their "loyalty".

Ignoring them, Heccarim walked forward as the two Hoblars pulled down the steps form the side of the carriage, their hearts and eyes full of cruel perverseness at the Gems who accompanied their master. Any other Hoblar wold have had the stupidity to ask the Warden for one of them but Kreek and Streek were different. Not only did  they only try to limit their attempts at murdering each other to once per day, they knew better than to try to ask the Warden for rewards. Service was its own reward, as they'd say to Heccarim while they polished his chains and cleaned his mask.

Inside the carriage, the Warden too his seat as the two Hoblars took their spots besides them, gesturing for his new brides to  sit opposite to him. Without a word, the driver set off once to door was closed and made their way back to Harand Kor.

[color=crimson]"Let me be clear,"[/color] the Warden spoke as his Hoblars placed wooden boards in the windows of the carriage so the Gems couldn't see where the path to the prison, "[color=crimson]You belong to the Warden of Harand Kor. You will provide me with an heir for Harand Kor must always have a Warden. You will not attempt to escape less you wish to be intured in more than simple chains and still keep your flesh. Should one of you even think of it, I will flay the other and cut off her limbs before feeding them to you. Should you plot against me I will leave you in the deepest, darkest hole in mountains of Harand Kor, stripped and beaten with only a pack of feral, depraved Hoblars as companies. Do. I. Make. My. Self. Clear."[/color]

[hider=Summary]
>be Heccarim
>continue to hotspook gems
>tell gems my"name"
>CallMeWardenButDaddyCanAlsoWork.png
>decide its finally time to gtfo of this damn place and head home
>use the shady allies and paths to get out instead of roads
>roads are too mainstream
>ThatOneLineFromAllStarBySmashMouth.mp4
>get out and call for spooky uber
>uber comes, ladies meet Kreek and Streek
>HoblarExposition.txt
>neckbeared midgets black out the windows as the spooky uber starts moving
>ask rhetorical questions to continue to spook the shit out of the gems
>law down the law of my house to them
>JudgeDrakkanDred.mov
>what a nice conversation we're having
>wonder what marriage counselors look like in Drakka


[/hider]