“[Wait!]” cried out Azazel as she watched Karastak distend his his jaw in order to prepare to clamp down upon the unconscious man's neck. Where she sent out the image of her standing atop his chest in order to push the white skinned man back. Of which led to him closing his mouth slowly, leading to him expression his displeasure with a sour expression.

“Why did you stop me?”

“[Karastak],” she sighed slowly, giving him the feeling that he were about to be hit for a mistake he didn't know he was about to make, “[there's only a fifty-fifty chance of him becoming a Vampire if you bite him like that. On top of it all, do you know how regular Vampires are made?]”

Here, he scratched his head absentmindedly, it cocking towards his right shoulder for a time before he spoke whilst righting it once more, “By biting them, drinking their blood, then feeding them your blood?”

What he heard next caused him to physically wince, as the girl in his head let loose a great sigh of exasperation over his response. When she spoke next, however, she gave him the impression of her giving himself a deadpan expression as she said, “[No. That's not how you turn someone, especially when you bite their neck. They'll bleed out quickly if you do that, idiot.]

“[Not only that, but to transform a person into a Sanguine Vampire, as they are called, not only do you need to drink their blood and transfer your own, you have to kill them immediately. This is so that they can rise up from their death reborn anew, understand?]” At his nod, she continued with, “[Even then, the process doesn't guarantee their revival will go smoothly. Such as them waking up and becoming feral, rather than intelligent. Or they may never even wake up at all.]”

“So, what do you want me to do? If I'm not allowed to bite him, then how else am I to start up an army of minions?” His tone was full of seriousness that left even Azazel speechless, as she did not know how to respond to such a declaration of intentions.

“[Uh...?]” was her own reply as she struggled for words, and he was given the image of her jaw dropping whilst the rest of her body refused to move.

“What?” his face became incredulous, tightening his features as though his desires were hard to comprehend, “Where I'm from, Vampires have Covens where there's the immediate family followed up by a host of minions.” His right claws danced as it was swept in front of him as he spoke, “And it's not like I can have a family here anyways.”

“[What?]”

“What?” his own hands were placed upon his hips, “I haven't once felt the desire to urinate or defecate since appearing. Therefore, I've come to believe that all other lower functions-” Giggling erupted inside his mind, which became laughter when he tried to ask why she was laughing at him.

Of which lasted for many moments more than what he felt was necessary, but once it ended, he asked with some irritation as to what she laughed at. Who then countered his question with one of her own, “[How do you think children are made?]”

“Huh?” his left eye twitched as he listened to her question, “What kind of question is that?”

“[A simple one],” came hurt tart reply, “[Now answer it, if you will.]”

“Fine,” he sighed, ruffling the hair at the back of his head, “When a man and a woman love each other very-”

“[Skip the bullshit explanation, Karastak.]” He felt she was in no mood for jokes, despite her earlier jovialness.

His eyes drifted towards his left where he felt her resting up against the trunk of a nearby tree. A small smirk played upon his lips, which was quickly erased as he parted them to speak, “You take a man's shaft, place it inside that which is betwixt a woman's legs, and after rubbing them together, the shaft releases his white seed inside of her. If the seed finds her egg, and fertilises it, then they'll wait up to nine months for a child to form inside her belly. Afterwards, it comes out in blood and fluids to greet the new world.”

Once he finished, however, he heard her snort loudly. Turning towards the tree in which his mind clearly saw her, he witnessed her standing tall, brush off her dress, and approached him with a, “[Hah. Maybe on your world, but not here.]” Here, he felt and watched as her small form climbed up his back with practiced ease, as though he were nothing more than a tree from her to play around on. Which then led to him feeling her rest her arms atop his head as she continued with, “[You see, Karastak, here on Terra, a man and a woman don't create children through such practices as that anymore. Instead, two consenting adults come together in order to fuse their energies atop an altar for a full day. Afterwards, a child is made in their likeness and prowess, but there's also the price of sacrificing Levels, Stats, and Experience for the creation of new life.]

“[Of course, there's also the use of your dick for pleasurable sensations with another],” she giggled softly, “[and you do have some fluid in that pouch beneath it, but it's mostly used to mark others as yours, and not much else.]”

“Huh,” Karastak blinked several times, unsure of what to make of such an explanation. However, he soon felt something within himself shudder, as he recalled where they were at. “This is Terra?” he muttered softly, his fists clenching as his eyes burned with hatred and loathing whilst his mind recalled some of the tortures he had to endure before being released by way of Dragon Fire.

Of which soon retreated back into the nether reaches of his mind, as he heard the calling of the little girl in his head, “[Karastak!]”

“I'm fine,” his voice was soft, but still tinged with anger, “I'm okay.”

“[Yeah? That tree isn't though,]” came her drawled reply.

“What?” his eyes blinked as he focused more upon his earthly body more than his mental self. Whereupon he noted the ashened word of SCORCH had been carved into the soft earth and roots of the tree he had witnessed Azazel rested upon before venturing to atop his head. He could not recall himself writing, but saw the aftermath nonetheless. For ahead of himself, by nearly one hundred metres, was a line of ash and burnt earth. There were even a few animals, dead from the removal of half or most of their bodies being within the line of the destruction he had wrought upon them.

Unsure of what to do, he gaped his mouth open, but shut it almost immediately as a low wail of some unknown beast permeated the now silenced forest. This even startled Azazel, whom he felt scan around the area with widened eyes as he did the same. However, he soon felt her tap his forehead, and found himself being pointed towards the large man who had curled up upon the ground. Of whom still had many cuts about his body, though healed, and probably still stung.

However, to hear such a large man with so many muscles crying in such a way caused the pair no end of confusion. Which soon led to Azazel gently pushing him towards the other, as she could not be there herself. Or, at least, not physically like Karastak could. Therefore, he was nominated to go up to the man, and he did so in a begrudging manner.

“You alright?” he called out and walking forward until he was half a metre away from the man. Whereupon he heard the other mumble something about his brother telling him to not hurt children, as well as himself arguing that he didn't.

Muttering to himself, Karastak asked, “Were those green-skinned 'children' what I thought they were?”

“[Yeah. They're Goblins.]”

“Okay, just making sure.” After muttering such words, he raised his voice in order to be heard by the other, “Those were Goblins, good sir, not children.” Which led to a series of sniffs and rocking as the man turned his body towards the pale man with widened eyes.

“Buh, they were small lie chil'ren.” The words spoken grated the brain, as they were a harsher form of the language he spoke, and he tried not to wince. However, he needn't worry, as the other shed a few more tears whilst wiping his eyes and nose on his sleeve.

“Well, yeah, but their skin was green. Are the children where you're from that colour when they're small?”

“When ther sick,” bobbed the muscular man, who then turned towards the only other “Human” and asked, “Not children?”

“No,” came the response, along with a quick shake of his head which led to the snow-white hair to dance slowly, “Besides, they did hurt you with their sticks. Are you okay?”

Here, the overly muscular man appeared as though he was trying to think, but instead said, “.” Whereupon something sparkled in front of his eyes, confusing Karastak to no end.

“What's he doing?” he muttered to the little girl in his head.

Of whom quickly responded with, “[He's checking his Status Menu. It has all of his stats, and because he pulled it up near you...]” Her voice trailed off as she left him for a time, but soon returned with a, “[Huh.]”

“What did you find?” he asks slowly, making sure to keep his voice low so as to not alert their new found “friend”.

“[Well, he is Level 24, has a Strength of one hundred and forty eight, and his Constitution is at ninety-eight],” she whistled to her self, which quickly stopped as he felt her lips upturn into a frown.

“What's wrong?” The white-skinned man turned away from the brute, who was humming as he poked at the invisible thing in the air with a slow finger. This was so that he may move his lips in a comfortable manner, as opposed to keeping them mostly still with the audience he now had, “Are they good stats?”

“[That's a no brainer, Karastak],” she replied with some sass as his mind watched her roll her eyes.

“Then why the frown?”

“[Well, the rest of his stats are abysmal. Like his Dexterity. If he has triple digits of Strength, then the other should be about half.]”

“How bad?” he asked, his own lips frowning at the thought of having bad stats.

“[His Dexterity is capped at fifty, his Charisma is at thirty five, his Wisdom is at a paltry twenty-three, and his intellect is a twelve. In other words, he's a dunce and I don't know why you would want him as your first minion.]” He felt Azazel roll her eyes once more, turning away from the screen, “[However, he does have a few titles.]”

“Oh yeah? And what are they and do they do anything?” At this point, he felt sorry for the big man's short straw on life, but consigned himself to have the other as a minion for only a single reason. He was reminded of someone he worked with in his last life, and with these low stats, he believed that the muscular brute of a man held the same tendencies and mindset of the one he worked with so long ago.

“[Well, titles have two functions, really. The first is to mark the bearer as something great in both meanings, and the second does give some bonuses. Unfortunately, there's no real way to tell what they are until they're equipped, to be honest.]” She scratched the back of her head, knowing what it was that her new source of entertainment was going to ask.

“So? What does he have, what is equipped, and what does it do?”

To which she just sighed whilst speaking, “[He has two. 'One of Great Strength' and 'Mascot of The Guards'. Currently, he has the latter equipped, and gains a boost of one point to his Charisma per Guard near him, and it also gives a zero point five percent bonus to each Guard's Attack bonuses. It's also cumulative to each Guard that stands nearby. So, if there's a hundred Guards near him, they gain a fifty percent bonus with him being their Mascot.]”

“Huh,” he replied, blinking his pale eyes slowly, unsure of how to comment on such a thing. However, he didn't need to do so. For at that time, a cucumber sized finger poked his back, almost sending him tumbling forward.

Turning around, he found that the brute of a man was frowning with some confusion, as he stared upwards at the other who was a head taller, “I dis-,” his frown deepened whilst his eyes concentrated on the words which tried to flee from his tongue. “Disea-... diseaseses.”

Although the word came out incorrectly, the large man smiled up at the other, awaiting for a bit of praise. For which Karastak gave to him gladly with a smile, “Good job.” To which the other stretched his lips into a broad grin, revealing many broken or cracked teeth as he raised up his meaty fists into the air with great elation.

'Yes,' the white-skinned man thought with patient joy, 'Just like Robert.'