Pain and hunger had been my earliest companions in this world, in this new life, as I was cast into the depths. After all there was, as something in the depths of my mind screamed, a purpose, as fragments of what, who, I was once was scraped and tore at my mind. A purpose that could only be fulfilled by feeding, by the warm and still twitching meat as I fashioned the dead into my glory, even as dancing lights whispered a path forward. I did not need to understand, I only needed to kill, to hunt and feed on flesh and potential.

It was difficult at first, as I hunted in the dark, the walls around me slick and cool, the meat stringy and tough as they screamed and fought back, claws scrapping off me as I did not wait for them to die first. Echoes came to me whenever I gorged, whenever I forced my way inside, whenever I could have a grand feast of it all. Scraps of memory, strands of thought from those moments flickered inside of me, even as they were subsumed for me to heal. What there was of me that could at any rate.

I had been human once, before the fragment of a dying god, or something powerful enough to be one, slammed into who I used to be, devouring and mingling with the mortal. Or did the mortal devour the fragment of divinity. There was no way for me to honestly tell, even as the clarity of a feast faded and I hungered still. As survival was more important than a deeper personal understanding, at least for the moment. But as my jaws closed around another mouthful of heart, there was an ember of myself that demanded more. That craved more than this, once I had the strength.

For I was more than a mere beast, the near mindless hunger receding more and more as I became more. And yet, the gnawing remained, the need for strength, even as my form grew, Still, I shook my head, as there was still meat to hunt, even if I had to leave the tough and stringy meat alone... I did have to track down more rancid meat. A part of me wanted, as I moved, to whisper trog... even as another part me thought they would look like dwarves. Even if I could not remember what a dwarf was.

Kharope

It had been supposed to be an easy job, as they tracked the thing that was hunting on the outskirts of Dor Karoth. Because yes, while the dwarves were personally ugly little beasts that no self respecting woman would want to lay with, they made lovely trinkets and wonders to adorn themselves with. And since their meat was generally too tough to make for good eating, it was better to just do business with them. And even then, whatever it was that had been hunting had apparently been striking from ambush, so it should be easy enough to capture.

Because with their many eyes, they would not be nearly as easy to surprise as the dwarves or the others. Though of course Sthenaboea, being the wise and intelligent leader of their band, made sure to include the standard clauses in their contract about them being able to break it off if their lives were at risk and if it seemed particularly resistant to their gazes. Particularly as this was a capture contract, not a kill one, as the dwarves wanted to make a study of it in case it turned out to be yet another elven weapon.

Not, if she was going to be entirely honest, that she was totally against the little arms races of the great three powers, not when she and her sisters were the results of a successful program. Well, given how they were mercenaries instead of auxiliary's, maybe not that successful from the dwarves point of view. Even if they adhered to contracts, there was a touch too much free will and the ability to negotiate their own employment contracts you see.

Which is why she and her sisters were laying scattered and defeated on the ground, as the creature they were hunting had entirely ignored the effects of their gazes despite looking them in the eye. And then there was what came after as they lay beaten and broken at his feet... and as he had looked down at them with such primal hunger. They were breathing heavily, the fangs of their serpents unable to penetrate his skin, and if they did he did not seem to react to the venom. But, as he placed them side by side, her eyes darted down and her lips, mirroring her sisters, quirked into a knowing smiling. For it may not have been their gazes, but one part of him seemed to be stone at least.

After all, while it was an unofficial contract... to the successful hunter goes the spoils.

Elerra Niraerth (Present Day)

On the one hand, she had apparently not been the first to discover him, as the three Medusa looked her over and inclined their heads. She had heard of them, vaguely. Largely as rumors of seers and prophets willing to lend their oracular powers to those willing to meet their price. And yet, a part of her wondered at the sight of these ancient seers writhing like hounds as the hands of the god patted them on the head and called them good girls, silly smiles on their faces as they gazed up with devotion.

All three of which had a crown of stars on their brow, the very same mark she wore... and so, she dropped to her knees before him, glad that the rest of her followers could not witness her at the moment. "My lord?" His eyes turned to her, as the serpents tracked her, their faces never leaving their mutual master. "I have brought a hundred of my people to serve. Command me, and it shall be..."

She paused, as he lifted her, placing her on his shoulder, and she felt her cheeks burn. "Tell me, how old are you?"

She puffed out her chest (even if her elder servants had a head start there it seemed). "I am forty seven years old my lord!"

His eyes seemed to measure her... before he nodded. "Then you are still a loli by the standards of your kind." Somehow, the meaning of that word etched itself into her mind, as she choked, cheeks flushing as the snakes giggled, as two of them placed his feet in their laps to step on them, and she sputtered, cheeks burning. "I will need to know more, but there will be a great deal of work." His lips curled into a smirk, one that spoke of hunger and need and power, even as he radiated serenity and grace. "For there is a seed now for the garden. We must merely make sure it outlasts the storm."

She nodded, even as she closed her eyes, as she dreamed of the power and glory that was promised, as the crown around her head chanted of nobility and power, of grace and might. Of herself a queen wearing a dress made from the night, as she took her people home after their exile was over. And in return, all she must do, is serve her new god, even as he lowered her to his lap, the three serpents giggling and cooing, stroking and patting her, as she looked into her lords eyes as he claimed what was his.