[center][h2]Keregar[/h2]Warlord of Kereg-Kor, Husband of Xaelia[sub][@Ellion][/sub] and Nadia[sub][@Vesuvius00][/sub]
[b]Interacting with:[/b]  His brides[hr][/center]

[b]CONTENT WARNING:[/b] The following paragraph, placed within the hider, hints heavily towards certain sexual acts without consent. Reader's discretion is adviced.

[hider=Reader's descretion is adviced]
Kieran though, was not dissuaded. “Oh but you beautiful Gems don’t need to eat, do you? You don’t want to become fat, right. No, no. I don’t like fat ones at all.” He said as he took a side step back towards the door and slowly closed it, after which he pulled a knife from the sheath on his back. Kieran was still dirty from the mud training. But that didn’t seem to bother him that much. With venomous eyes he dashed for Xaelia. Before she’d know what was happening, he’d have his fingers wrapped around her throat. He wasn’t choking her. Not yet. He pointed his knife towards Nadia and said: “If you scream. I will make you eat your delicious sister.” He licked Xaelia on her cheek. It wasn’t a tender gesture. It looked more like he was tasting the skin of spit-roasted pig. “And you, he said to Xaelia as he used his knife now to cut her clothes off again. “You better make me enjoy it. Oh and if it wasn’t clear yet, neither of you whisper even a word about this. Or you’ll learn what the definition of Wrath is.”
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Keregar gathered his Gems an hour later. They were late sure, but it didn’t sound as if they’d made a problem of something. Xaelia though, she was dressed in different clothes. Maybe something happened to hers. He’d ask, but there were more important things to do. Outside Varzar was tending to the horses and Keregar had business with his youngest son. “You did what I asked.” Varzar couldn’t look his father in the eye. There was still as swirling mess inside of him. Like he wanted to puke, or attack his father, or stab himself. Any of those options felt like it would make him feel a better pain. Yet he tried to kept his calm, even though the aversion on his face was really clear. “Yes. I did.” But Keregar didn’t have enough. “What did you do?” With a fierceness that appeared increasingly more frequent Varzar turned to his father. He stared in the dark, demanding eyes of his father. But Keregar, the veteran warlord knew what he wanted to know. “I slapped her. You happy with that? I slapped one of your brides.” He said, before turning away again. Keregar released a grunt of approval.

“We move!” Keregar announced. His brides were ushed each on a horse. Though the saddle was made for Drakkan, not the delicate form of a Gem. They quickly reached the busy streets. But unlike some, Keregar would not seek refuge in the shaded, calmer alleys. No, he was a warlord and would act like it. In front of the horses a vanguard of five heavily armored Drakkan marched. Two of them were the twins. Gleefully pushing anyone out of the way who didn’t move fast enough. One person tried to make a problem out of it. As he yelled and complained, he was thrown to the side. Keregar barely looked at him. This was a common theme. Keregar didn’t care for the common plebs beneath his sight and his sons cared even less. A few Drakkan and other creatures trying to peddle their wares in the busy streets were knocked over our away. There was a certain tension in the air forming around them.

Upon reaching the main market, the whole caravan halted and everyone dismounted. The horses were tied to a post with two guards near them. “Varzar, Nadia, Xaelia. Here.” The Warlord beckoned the others. “My son. You did good.” He said as he handed him a pouch that had a very obvious, clear clinging inside of it. “Use it all.” He whispered to Varzar. Then he turned to his brides. “We are going to wander the market. If you see anything you want, clothes or jewels or whatever you like, you tell me.” With those words the slow crawl around the market began.