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A great, prosperous nation, Alaerya was. Its powerful army, result of a long-lasting military tradition, was mostly employed to maintain order, taking the role of city and town guards, and a couple of times to defend the nation from the occasional raid party or mercenary band that the two countries bordering with it would submit Alaerya to - either because of that nation's prosperity, or because of its neighbors' poverty.

Strangely enough, despite the fact that Alaerya was home to a plethora of different races, not all of them humans, its proud army had never allowed any of the so-called 'strangelings' (non-humans) in. This, of course, created some protest from said 'strangelings'. The issue was not dealt with, as the ruler of the country was mysteriously assassinated. His only son, Avae, heir to the throne, was quick to blame his own father's death on the 'strangelings', calling them enemies of the nation.

Alaerya's human population already mistrusted the 'stangelings', mostly because of a few of them that had alien mentalities. As soon as Avae issued the order to imprison all the 'strangelings', the populace formed groups to 'help the king'. And by helping the king, they meant killing the 'enemies of the nation'.

Alaerya was a large country. The ones who lived near the borders were able to escape their fates; those who chose to stay or lived deep inside the country found themselves in great danger - a few even sought the guards so they'd be arrested, thus escaping worse fates at the hands of the populace.

The Alaerian army's competence was once again proved when it became clear that they could somehow spot even the most well-hidden of the strangelings. Rumors abounded, but few did believe that they had any kind of secret weapon on their side - others than discipline and good strategists.

And it is in this context that this takes place. Where? In something they merely called the Complex.

That was no regular wagon. It was one of the special wagons that had become so common when the 'cleansing' began. Huge, almost as wide as it was long (and it was very long), and not made of wood, but metal - and instead of walls, bars. That made those moving cells quite heavy, and they had to be pulled by several oxen, but it also mean several strangelings could be transported within. That particular wagon had more oxen pulling it than the usual, but that is hardly important. It was also covered by cloth, as most were. The reason for it being that to spare the horrible sight of a strangeling to the innocent and pure regular people.

The wagon was surrounded by six guards, all of them carrying halberds. As it approached the huge, cylindric castle-like building (that was surrounded by smaller buildings, the barracks where the many guards could eat, drink, sleep, etc), its thick wooden gates would open, revealing a big, empty room just big enough to fit the wagon - and two more gates. The wagon entered the room, the gates behind it closed - and for a moment, nothing but darkness. Then, the gates in front opened, revealing something rather... strange.

The Complex was a big circle of small cells, all placed against the single wall of the building, cold, hard stone that, if somehow broken through, would lead right outside (mot that outside there wouldn't be a small army to thwart the escape). The cells took only a small part of the compound however, and were only for the most dangerous or uncooperative individuals, while the more civilized ones could freely move around. Of course, there was a heavily armed guard also walking around for each ten prisoners. Security wasn't lax in the Complex.

It was a disgusting place, however. Not everyone can survive in such harsh conditions - no natural light, little food, and daily disagreements that usually ended in fights to the death, with the guards refusing to intervene (one single individual in the whole compound was always closely followed and protected by them however, but we'll get to that later) - and the guards, suspicious of the sneaky strangelings, followed a 'dead if rotting, alive and trying to trick you if not' theory, which didn't help it in the least. In fact, there were arguably more dead prisoners in there than living ones.

The cell-wagon has just been unlocked, its door slid open, and from underneath the cloth cover came Kultas. The scorpionman walked calmly, knowing his place there. He did glance around, seeing a dozen guards in the dim light, some pointing their halberds at him, others pointing them at the other prisoners. Not that any of them cared. Most they got was a few curious looks.

The inner gates were closed as soon as Kultas joined the others. And closed they would remain until the next wagon arrived. The scorpionman was still examining the place and deciding he kinda liked it when a loud noise revealed that a few more poor devils were going to be introduced to the Complex.

He was wrong, but wouldn't realize it in a while. The person being brought in was a strangeling, yes, but was not new there. She hadn't even come in a wagon, she was being personally escorted by four guards - who even as she entered the enclosure didn't stop following her, even though they did give her some more space.

Kultas watched the harpy with curiosity. There wasn't anything too unique about her - not in a place where he, a scorpionman, was hardly one of the strangest beings around - but the fact that she was being guarded made him wonder.

((tl;dr - big prison for everything that's humanoid, but not entirely human. Introduced Kultas and F0x's Dzev already, if you want to join just have one of your characters be one of the other prisoners. This is a group RP and everyone's welcome to join.))

The brightly coloured alien hadn't been in the prison long. He hadn't even been in this country long. In fact, almost as soon as he had arrived yesterday and had asked a nearby guard for a map, he had found himself being corralled into some sort of prisoner wagon. It had immediately transported its cargo to the imposing prison, the birdman being the last they could squeeze in. Unused to such treatment, he had figured that the best course of action after arriving would be to find a corner, curl up in it, and hope the people of this world didn't do horrible things to their prisoners. His conduct had been civil, of course, so he had been spared being put in a cell. He had soon thought up all the advantages he might have if he had been given one, however, seeing as it wasn't the safest just walking around.

Today, the bird found himself curiously staring at the new prisoners. Mostly the huge scorpion...thing. He was a social being, and hoped that even in this place he would find people to converse with. He still knew next to nothing about this place, and actually having a conversation with a native was an appealing thought. He could have picked others to speak with..but he figured the scariest looking might also be the most interesting, and he didn't judge others by appearances anyway. This in mind, he tentatively made his way over to hopefully start a conversation. One he would hopefully live through.

Dzevahira walked with her back straight and her head held high, as if she were in fact royalty. She would not give these men the satisfaction of thinking they had broken her yet. The guards stood about her in a square pattern, each holding an electrified rod to put her in her place in case she were to lash out. Due to her unique feather composition, she was highly susceptible to electricity. She smoothed her skirt as they entered the enclosure; this skirt had been a gift. She could not remember if it was an admirer or perhaps a gift in return for her services as a Seer. The sheer shirts hung low off her waist and ended in folds which billowed out behind her as she walked. The top was short, ending just under her breast. It resembled a vest of sorts with barely any sleeve and a silk under garment to cover her chest. She had been wearing a veil and an intricately woven necklace of beads and gems when she came topside from her world; she even had bangles and rings decorating her slender fingers and wrists.

That was no more. These things had been taken from her and her beloved outfit was naught but tatters hung on her gaunt form. She had left her Eyrie in search of food. Human meat was her favorite delicacy, but it was frankly hard to come by in a world of souls. She remembered how she was chatting with the young farm hand who she had selected as her meal, when he signaled for the town guard. They had caught her indoors, otherwise she'd have taken flight. Even now they had her wings bound with metal chains she had not managed to break. Her crest laid flat against the top of her head and her avian feet scraped slightly on the ground as she was escorted to a cell. She had long since stopped fighting back: She was malnourished and tired. They only gave her scraps of animal meat here, which she refused to eat more often than not. A fount of silver hair waved out behind her, bound by nothing and ending well below her rump which sported a tail similar to a prehistoric bird. The harpy walked on, despite the stares of many of the other inmates. Some clearly disgusted, others outright frightened of her. How many of them had she helped to ruin? How many had she ratted out? She'd lost count.

The guards came to a halt and in turn Dzevahira did as well. They stood in front of a full cell, the inhabitants shrinking against the back wall in axniety. Her orange eyes swept over them, she could see their quarry; the guards were opening the bars and clearing a line to him by beating back the others. Dzevahira paced to the man: A young person whose features that resembled a rat. She sighed inwardly. His face betrayed his every emotion and the sight of the imposing Harpy leering at him caused him to crumble to tears. She refused to move toward the boy, rat people tended to have a lot of family and she knew he wouldn't be able to hide from her powers. The guards had waited long enough and now used their rods to push her arm at the rat. She again refused to comply.

Then came the electricity; just one rod touched her in the small of her back and the energy jolted her to her knees. She screeched in pain, the arcs of static coursing through her wings and other feathered areas even after the rod had moved off her skin. Eyes wide with pain and terror, the Harpy reached out her hand and placed it on the Rat Boy's forehead. He flinched under her touch, expecting pain, but the only result was Dzevahira's heavy breathing and as predicted something came to her.

Her head fell back and the color of her eyes misted over as she stared into nothingness, seeing things only she was privy to. "A farm, off on the outskirts of the region. It's hiding at least five of them. One is old, and sick. Most of young... There are perhaps more..." Her hand fell from the Rat with unexpected heaviness, landing with a thud on the floor. Her entire self seemed to slump forward. Her gaze sent daggers at the guard as the Rat Boy reduced to horrified mumblings: She had just given away his whole family. He had hoped if he was caught the others would have time to escape.

"Am I done here?" She spat at her escorts. She was rewarded with the butt of a rod being slammed into her temple. She went limp with unconsciousness and the guards grabbed the loose ends of her chains, dragging her from the cell.

He stood there in silence and cloaked in shadows. He seemed to be one of the few Who could stick out like a sore thumb due to his massive frame. Muchness the spines that came from the top of his head adding another 3 foot to his already over 8 foot tall frame. He watched as the new arrivals were escorted in with a emotionless stare and his massive frame held neutral. He showed no signs of concern or curiosity or that he even cared for that matter. After a moment he watched as the rod was slammed into the temple of one of his fellow inmates heads and narrowed his gaze a bit as he started towards them. As he made his move, another guard approached and blocked his path though obviously shaken as he was dwarfed by this massive demon. Lazaras' eyes Woden with anger as he spoke in a low gravely tone.

"You imprision us and not expect some of us to uphold our personal morals? I already told you guys when you first got me. I don't care if I'm in prison or not. I will not tolerate the abuse of a woman. Remember what happened last time it happened in front of me?"

He then smirked a bit.

"Don't stand in my way less you become collateral damage."

Kultas watched as the strange harpy was forced to do... something... to a rat-like being. At first he thought she was their executioner - from her chains, an executioner against her will, but still - but soon it became clear that no, her touch didn't bring death. In fact, it didn't seem to bring anything. That only made the priest more curious.

Behind him, commotion was taking place. Kultas, however, had been forced to focus his attention somewhere else before it had started, and as such, missed it. A small, colorful... thing was nearing him. Inable was met with a glare from a being without visible eyes.

"How can I assist you?"

His nerves already shot, the Jiri fidgeted and shot nervous glances at what he thought was where the thing's eyes were. His bird feet made small scraping sounds on the floor as he shifted. When he spoke, his voice was probably deeper than one might have thought simply judging by his appearance.

"Ah..well, um.." He fumbled a bit with his words, then cleared his throat and tried again. "Hello! My name is Inable. I was wondering if..we could perhaps be friends?" He smiled timidly up at the huge creature, large orange eyes hopefully meeting Kultas' after more nervous glances around at the other prisoners.

Inable's question was met with an understanding smirk from the priest. "So you wish to gain an ally in the wilderness that is this place. I understand it perfectly, and will not deny you that... Inable."

And so Inable made the... 'friend' he wanted.

Meanwhile, behind the two, a group of seven or eight guards were gathering. Turns out the guard hadn't been pleased with Lazaras, a prisoner who thought he could order his jailers around, and he had called his friends with a yell.

This yell was what made Kultas finally turn around and see the big demon, the unconscious harpy being dragged to her cell, and between the two, lots and lots of guards. Their resolute expressions surprised Kultas somewhat - moreso then the presence of a monster such as Lazaras. Were he so small against something so huge, he wouldn't look as resolute as those guards.

"She's none of your business." The priest heard one of the guards tell the demon. "I'd turn around and leave if I were you."

At this point, Kultas turned to Inable again.

"It appears not everyone here is as peaceful as we are."

The Harpy stirred in her cell. She was kept by herself, less the other inmates decide to badger her for turning on them. The humans found her too valuable to have among the dregs. That and they wanted to reserve the right to harm her for themselves.

Consciousness hit her like a ton of bricks. There was a heavy feeling in her brain after she had a vision and the crack to her skull was not helping. She pushed herself up into a seated position, her legs folded underneath her and she looked to the ruckus the humans were making. There were several guards pouring into one of the group cells, halberds and other pole arms pointed at one of her kin. At least, he looked like another demon. The man was huge and obviously had caused a disturbance to rouse the guards. She hadn't known it was in her name, however.

She shifted to the edge of her cell to watch the events more clearly. Her face pressed to the bars, she had the advantage of avian sight to watch the group of guards engage the demon.

Relief washed over the alien as Kultas replied, and it probably showed in his expression. It was quickly replaced by the previous nervous look he had worn as his attention was brought to the demon causing a scene. He brought a few clawed fingers to his mouth, watching fearfully.

"Oh my.." He did not understand this place at all. He stepped slightly around his new friend to better see what was going on. "The people here..they are not friendly at all." He then added, more to himself, "..Wonder what they were thinking, linking to this world..probably didn't know.."

He stood there quietly and looked at all the guards as a small smirk crossed his face

"Oh please...isn't one enough? So pathetic you guys gotta gang up one one little demon...you guys are making me so danger happy!"

He then glanced up seeing that the harpy was peering out from behind cell bars as his form relaxed.

"Ok...you guys lucked out. She seems ok mostly."

He then turned and walked away from the crowd as he folded his arms over his chest.

There was a loud slam as the doors to the prison were shut and a group of guards escorted a new and unwilling prisoner down the corridor towards the cells. The prisoner was blindfolded and his hands were bound behind his back while a guard on each side of him and one behind pulled and prodded him along while he growled and barked curses in spanish.

"Enough of your banter, you disgusting creature!" The guard to the prisoner's right shouted back in response and gave a forceful tug to the captive's arm; nearly bringing it out of the socket. Wincing in discomfort, the prisoner made a last minute effort to break free by leaping forward on his powerful legs, but his guards held him fast and with their combined effort were able to quell his efforts easily.

Defeated, Olyn cursed under his breath. If he hadn't been so exhausted from the previous fight he would have been able to make it out of this damned place. Somehow, they had poisoned him; he was sure of it. His body didn't feel right. The space around him spun in sickening brilliance and before he knew it he was forced to the ground, his knees almost cracking against the hard stone floor.

The click of the cell door being locked and the fading footsteps and laughter of the guards made it all too clear what had just happened. Olyn waited for the dizzying wave of nausea to subside and he managed to sit himself up, his hands still bound behind his back and the blindfold still in place. What an embarrassing situation for a faun.

Stretching his out his long, three-toes feet before him, and swishing his tails against the cold floor he sat consumed by thoughts of why such a thing would happen to him. Where he was from, Fauns were regarded as peaceful creatures, even worshiped by some years ago. Sure he had eaten a handful of human children in his lifetime, but certainly not enough to be imprisoned. At least not in his mind.

It wasn't long until his thoughts were interrupted by the scuffling and mumbling of the other prisoners. Cocking his head, he leaned a floppy goat-like ear towards the sounds of the others.

The sounds of activity called Phoem from her dreams slowly. She rolled over on her meager pile of straw bedding and her eyes flickered open as she heard the clamor increasing. Rising to her feet, she yawned and stretched languidly, the momentary flashing of her canines and extending of her claws causing a nearby guard to drop his eyes uneasily. Blinking a few times to clear her eyes of the last traces of sleep, she padded quietly to the front of her cell, tail flicking back and forth as she eyed the goings on. Her gaze jumped from the scorpion man to the harpy, now that was a curious thing, but settled on the most recent arrival in the cell nearest hers. She thought he could arrange quite a few adornments on those wonderful looking antlers of his, and the language he had been speaking fell nicely upon her ears, seeing as she couldn't understand just what he was saying in it.

"What are you listening for?" She asked, her tail brushing amicably against her flanks as she looked at him quizzically. "There certainly is quite a commotion today, isn't there?"

"People are hardly ever friendly." Kultas said, replying to Inable's remark. He made it sound like he was stating an absolute truth. The sky is blue, trees are plants, and people are hardly ever friendly. The guards had left - even though two of them were now standing near Dzevahira's cell. This only made the priest more curious. She was indeed important. But how to approach her without arousing suspicion from the guards?

An idea crossed his mind. "If you cannot stay safe on your own, stay close to me. That is, after all, why people wish to gain allies." That was directed at Inable, another emotionless statement presented in the form of an absolute truth - and at the same time, a subtle promise that the Jiri could rely on him if the need should arise.

And that said, the priest spotted the demon who had been causing trouble before, and approached him.

Olyn leaned his back against the bars that separated him from the sphinx; his upper body and shoulders slumped forward in defeat. The unsettling feeling in his head and stomach might have also had something to do with it as well.

"Como?" His head turned a bit towards Phoem after she spoke. It had been a while since he spoke english, but he managed to find the words under his heavy accent. "Can you tell me what's going on? What is this place?"

The Jiri puzzled over Kultas' words, but nodded in understanding just the same. His eyes traveled back up to his new friend.

"I thank you.." He offered a nervous chuckle, "I..do not yet know your name." He did, however, stay very close to the scorpionman as they approached the other large being.

"They will tell you that this is a place for keeping peace. That we are here to keep the peace in a world that is better off without us in it. Really, it is a place for humans to keep their fear of us, the different ones, at bay." Phoem chuckled softly, readjusting her wings against her body. "A prison, my friend."

"It's a place to keep monsters like you lot locked down!" A nearby guard chimed in, kicking at the corner of the cell with his boot. The sphinx whirled suddenly in a flash of tawny fur and rushed at the guard, snarling and reaching for his foot. She batted at it with a sheathed paw, and he backed up several steps, eyeing her coldly. With a smirk, she turned back to Olyn and began conspicuously washing the paw she had nabbed the guard with, making sure it was clean again.

"You eat one dull-witted merchant and suddenly you're a monster. Eaten anyone recently? Of course, you don't have to, to be brought here. Most of the time, all you need to do is exist."

He leaned against the wall of what one could only presume was his assigned cell as his arms folded tightly over his chest. The guards that were near him earlier keeping a wary eye on him as he was known for his outbursts like his earlier one but other than that never really did anything. The guards were careful with him though as if he lashed out in such a violent manner verbally what would keep him from doing so physically? After a moment he looked at the jiri and the scorpionman as they approached out the corner of his eye. Aside from his eyes staying on them, he made no form of movement what so ever. As they got near he turned his head to look at them fully as he spoke, his voice much more calm and docile than it was when he was confronting the guards.

"How can I help you?"

She watched the newest member of the prison be brought to his cell. Her hear dropped somewhat: She new fauns from her home in the Abyss. They had emigrated there for one reason or another, but it was her understanding that they were a peaceful people overall. This one seemed very far from his home, as his language was foreign. She could see the Sphinx take an interest in him and assumed she was filling him in on their collective fate. Dzevahira sat back and ruffled her feathers, as if cold. Truthfully a chill had run down her spine. These humans had managed to capture a frightening amount of "strangelings" as they called them.

This place was close and stuffy. It made the harpy sick-feeling. She missed the open air of her Eyrie, where she could properly spread her wings. Unconsciously they tried to do so now, only to be caught by her chains. She frowned deeply, her crest plastered to the top of her head in irritation. She shifted her gaze to the guards at her cell door. They furthered her irritation as it wouldn't be long until their decided to try her out on the faun. A low hiss escaped her lips and she got to her clawed feet. She paced to the door, keeping off the bars as to not alarm them.

"I need water." They were only brought the humans interpretation of food and water a couple times a day, but she could sometimes persuade them to bring her more if they expected her to work. The guards ignored her for several moments. Her irritation mounting, Dzevahira hardened the feathers on her tail and swung the appendage like an axe into the bars of the cell. The guards nearly jumped out of their skin as they twirled around, weapons at the ready and expecting to be attacked.

Instead they were met with the miffed harpy, arms crossed over her chest, expression sour. The tail feathers softened, having finished their purpose and she let her tail fall lax behind her. These people were ignorant to most of her abilities and she planned on keeping it that way. Not to mention she had dented the bar slightly and would be punished if they noticed.

"Water. Please." They scurried off, yes both of them. It wasn't often that you saw human guards by themselves. They were always sent in pairs so there were more eyes on the Strangelings. Dzevahira shifted to the side of her cell which was closest to the others to see what was going on in the small group that had gathered: The Scorpion, The Bird and The Demon.

((Not really sure if Alphanus would fit this setting/RP well, to be honest. Nigh-omnipotent evil gods don't really belong in RP's that focus on escaping/surviving a place like the Complex. But if you want to use any other character I'll be happy to have you join us.

Also: Dzev did the tail feather axe thing! Awesome.))


Kultas ignored Inable's words - if only because his question would soon be answered as he introduced himself to Lazaras. Looking down at the demon's face, solemn as he always was, he spoke. Should he look back at the harpy one more time, he'd realize he o longer needed the demon... but sadly, the thought didn't cross his mind.

"My name is Kultas Frei, the faithful of Skramis. And this is Inable." He could not just turn his head to look at the Jiri - he lacked the flexibility necessary - so he just assumed he was by his side. "We require your assistance."