tales of blue and red

He’d come to the ship to inspect the newest batch of disposable bodies. Every so often the slavers would moor their ship on the shore and Chimera would venture out so that he could pick and choose which beasts would best serve his purpose. The slavers had been coming here long enough that they knew just what to bring him. The dirty, the unclean, the murderers, the rapists, the poisoners and the heretics. No one would miss them and killing them left little weight on the consciences of those that disposed of them. Today however, something was different.

The sound of flesh on flesh and the clatter of a body striking the old, stained wood pulled the brutes attention down to a chamber along the hall. He watched as one of the slavers struck an emaciated, pale man. Chimera felt little at seeing the abuse. He had done worse and would do worse again. It was only when the man raised his metallic gaze to meet Chimera’s own mismatched orbs that there was the barest tingling of something there. Perhaps it was the state of the man. Perhaps it was the utter defeat in his lanky frame. Something forced him to stop the slaver from striking the horned brute again.

The King of Fenmyre turned his piercing gaze to the man that now stood cowering against the door. Not a full slaver, just a lackey. A trained dog. “What are this one’s sins?” The man stammered, telling Chimera that the man had no sins that they knew of. He was just there to work for them. It was clear that he wouldn’t get a straight answer from the rabble. Stepping forward, the two-toned giant stood over the dirty, beaten man. “What are your sins… Why are you here? What have you done?”


"Chimera"