Many unpleasant feelings, a strong headache, and sheer anger burned Ted the Gladiator when Widernia commanded him to wake up. He could hear the cell door being opened, and his chains released. 

No questions were asked, rather unusual of her, but it did not make the witch any less obnoxious. 

[color=f6989d]"Come on. [i]Boy[/i]. Wake up, [i]That[/i] old crone wants to see you."[/color] she purred, provocatively, humiliatingly. Something that would make his arm spring to grab her neck and crush it without thinking. But he knew it was futile so he swallowed the taunt whole. At least he finally found something he could tolerate. He would meet his mother, and get out of this stinky place and will see her or this whiny neighbour no more. His great heart thumped in anticipation.

[b]"Lead the way, woman!"[/b] he gruffed, forcing his legs to support his enormous bulk and walk in two. Whatever words came of that damn witch she did not care anymore as the door cell closed behind him. 

"No talk!" Rembukung angrily, Ted raised his arm as they nearly reached the lab room. The excessive lighting in that place suddenly made his vision blurry, and by instinct, he switched to his smelling. 

It was at that moment he stopped. His breathing was rapid and instead of blocking the light, his hands clutched his head. 

[b]"You witch! What evil hab you brought here?! Where are they?!!"[/b] the great Ted bellowed. His superiorsmelling, long had been rendered palsied suddenly recognized a very distinctive scent of apple and burned wood and iron and stone. And it brought forth a memory of a certain elf. 

With new waves of headache assaulting him, He cried again, [b]"Where are they!"[/b] before rushing blindly toward that one corner to his right. 

Beside him, Widernia was initially confused, but when Ted charged forth she understood what was going on. A crooked smile bloomed on her lips as she materialized her staff. An electric current ran wild on its tip and bloomed into a crown made of energy. 


---

A giant bear, a full whole of the beast, enraged and loaded for all bearish cruelty appeared in front of Varya. His eyes were red, and despite his fluffy brownish fur, his chest appeared to be glowing. He stood on two legs, his arms outstretched and his claws unsheathed like eight nasty sharpened blades strong and sharp enough to tear iron. And he was ready to crush the elf under his enormous bulk.