Amneir: It is beginning to grow later in the evening, and as the door opens Drakkon steps into the hallway obviously dressed down for bed. He's down to his skivvies of tight red underwear, and a loose robe of gold and crimson hung over his shoulders, though left untied. His long red hair was tied back into a ponytail and was still wet from the baths.
"Ah, Miss Amneir? A pleasant surprise, though I find you've caught me as I was preparing for bed. One needs the proper amount of beauty sleep to ward off Father Time, you know. Now...what's this about young Sir Morgan and Miss Kaetris?"
The sun outside had fallen well past the horizon, now slowly, ever so slowly, dipping down to extinction in the night. The natural light in the room was disappearing, and the light of the glowstones was still taking time to adjust. As such the room was rather dim, with the two young boys sitting there in the middle of the room. At least, the visage of them were sitting there. The larger fellow was no longer sniffling, and in fact was slowly starting to untie the bandages wrapped about him. The smaller fellow chuckled, his face turned away from the small group.
"Heheheh...children. You hold weapons almost too large for your hands and feel powerful. But what, pray tell, would you intend to do with such things? Attack us? Kill fellow students? No...you've made a decision. You interfere with a plan so far removed from you that ones such as you would have been safe...had you simply stopped. But a nuisance you have made of yourselves. Nothing dangerous to our caretaker, not yet. But...a nuisance. And so we were called."
The voice was...changing. And as the voice shifted, the lights in the room began to grow dimmer, the glowstones flickering as their essence was becoming altered.
"We were to be stealthy. So our caretaker granted us new forms, familiar forms. We could walk through the halls as we saw fit, do as we saw fit. Such freedom of movement served our purposes perfectly. Inspection. Recon. Affirmation." The faces of the two boys were facing away from the group, but you can sense their eyes are staring at the window. Their bodies under their clothes were...moving. Shapes and bumps moved underneath the cheap fabric of their shirts, like serpents writhing together in a pile.
"But we miscalculated. We...made an error. And now we are discovered. Our caretaker will be most cross. Their mood becomes so grouchy when their job goes unfulfilled. But, if I can before we leave, a bit of advice? Our caretaker will be cross with us. To you...things will happen. Horrible things that your mind will not even allow you to comprehend to save you the devastation to your psyche. Save yourselves. Kill yourselves. Kill each other...save each other."
The room was incredibly dim now, the sun having just set past the horizon. Night had fallen.
"The day finishes. Perhaps, next time, we will not infiltrate. Perhaps we will...watch as you sleep. Slit a throat in your slumbers. Hide in the shadows. There are plenty of us, young dragonlings."
The glowstones flashed with a sudden bright intensity, along with the turning of the younger fellow's head. It was for only a split second, barely even enough time to be registered in most of your minds, but it was there. His face was elongated, with fangs too huge for the uncomfortably inadequate human mouth they resided within. A second pair of eyes had begun to form under the first, and the colors of both went to an eye-filling yellow of sickness. There was more, but in that spasm of time a wind rushed through the room and carried sand with it, wrapping around the two figures. The light of the glowstones were out of control, rapidly dimming and intensifying without reason.
"Next time, we won't just be looking."
The sand whipped around faster and then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. The glowstones resumed their usual brightness, showing the room was now empty of occupants. Nothing remained of the two fellows except for blood splatters on the carpet and a few stray gatherings of sand.