(OOC: Note, Bolded and italicized is people speaking in Romanian.)

Drago sighed as he was dragged slowly through the halls, his bum leg twisted awkwardly out to the side. He once again felt the collar upon his throat, the oppressive yoke of the Romanian government that made him want to lash out and get out, run away, something. At 81 years old, however, he wouldn't be doing much lashing. Or running, with his leg. It was actually in camps similar to these that the leg had first been broken. It never did heal quite right. Still, unwilling to allow him his cane, the guards had been forced to drag him to his bunk.

When they got to the bunk, they simply threw Drago on the bed, none-too-gently. His bum leg got under him in the short flight, and when he landed on it a hiss of pain fled his lips. "Hey, watch it, 'ya stiffs! Some of us 'dangerous people' can't use their legs! In my day, young'ns didn't go around throwin' their elders into concentration camps!! Boy, have things changed."[/b][/color]

The guards said nothing, but as they walked away on whispered to the other, too quiet to hear, and they all started laughing. It was really Drago's fault that he was back in a camp. He had been careless, to tell the truth. It was much easier to have a golem carry his bags, and since he had been on a country road, heading back to the village he once knew, he thought he would be safe. Not so. A policeman had spotted him and pulled a gun. A gun, for an old man. Still, the golem probably had him pissing his pants.

So there he was, rubbing his leg and pulling himself into a sitting position on his bunk. At least they were not bunk beds, like in the other camp. There, Drago had been assigned a top bunk. It certainly made getting into bed an ordeal, even with the help of his bunk-mate. All in all, this stint in a camp was shaping up to be better than the last one. Maybe if he was lucky it would be just as short.

Speaking to himself in English, as he often did when he didn't want to be overheard in a country where most didn't speak more than Romanian, Drago said, making no effort to whisper, "Damn camps will be the death of me. I'm getting too old for these stupid mistakes of mine."

Jaxon struggled, weakly trying to resist the guards dragging her down the hall, though her legs weren’t working very well after the shocks she had received. With a sigh she gave up the battle, she was too tired at the moment. "You guys really suck." The words were muttered in a low voice, but if the guards spoke English she had no doubt she would have gotten another bruise. As it was one of the men shook her to quiet her.

Dropped in a heap of limbs, thankfully she had enough energy to catch herself before her head hit the ground, Jaxon slowly sat up. Watching as the guards locked the door behind them, she resisted the urge to stick her tongue out. Strange how having all her rights taken away made her act like a five year old…

Looking around her new accommodations, she wasn't surprised to find they were a different kind of awful. Meeting the eyes of someone in her cell she nodded a greeting. With a sigh she adjusted her own leg, which she was sure was going to get infected, and looked over in time to see an old man being dragged then thrown in a similar manner. She didn't think anything of it until she heard soft English muttering.

He had spoken Romanian before, she was sure of it. Crawling closer to where their 'pens' were separated, she looked at him curiously. "What did… Do you speak English?" Her last group had barely been able to convey basic meanings with the few words they knew and some movements.

Dragomir looked up at the sound of more footsteps and dragging, wondering who the guards were abusing now. What he saw made him rather angry. A pretty young girl, being dragged along brutally by bulky guards, had been tossed in her own bunk just before Drago. Now, imprisoning old geezers who've only got a few years left in this world is one thing, but keeping a teenage girl locked up in a camp when she should be out having the best years of her life. Drago would know how fleeting youth is. Sure, you have good fun for a couple of years, but then your hair starts to gray, your skin sags, and once the brain starts to go everything is down the poop shoot from there.

As the girl looked up at Drago in surprise, he figured that she had heard him speak English and wondered what he had said. Well, he wasn't about to explain to her, and he supposed that, to be polite, he'd have to speak mostly in Romanian while she was around. A pain.

"What did… Do you speak English?"

Drago blinked. Apparently, the girl was British. Or American, even. Well, he supposed it was possible she was Romanian, but she didn't have the accent he could hear on his own English, so Drago assumed it was her native language.

Speaking English, again, Drago smiled nicely and said "No, actually I only speak Swahili." his sarcasm wasn't mean, but the joking kind. "I hope they didn't hurt you. What's your name?"

As he asked, Drago sighed, knowing that he would forget several times before it finally got embedded in his memory. The guards had taken his notebook, and with it his only reliable method of remembering names, dates, and places. It was frustrating.

For a moment Jax was afraid she had been hallucinating… but then he spoke again, making a small joke about Swahili. Suddenly her face hurt and she realized she had smiled at him.

Had they hurt her? How to answer that…."No, no more than usual." They actually hadn't hurt her very much in her time at the camps, a few slaps, shoves, and various other minor offences. Her leg injury was sort of her own fault, and had happened while getting captured. Not that the camp had done anything to help it get better though. "I'm Jaxon… Kane, not that it means anything in here." She shrugged, glancing away. She was sort of ashamed of how she had tried to use her name to get out of here in the beginning.

Looking at the man again, Jaxon gave him a half smile. "And you are?" He was older than anyone she had seen in here before. Most of the mutants here were teens and young adults, and she hadn't given much thought to where the older mutants were. If they had gotten out of the country before the camps, or if they were just smarter and better able to avoid the mutant hunters.

"You are a mutant?" Maybe he was just some poor political prisoner… Jax didn't wan to assume he was a mutant if he wasn't.

"No, no more than usual. I'm Jaxon… Kane, not that it means anything in here."

Drago relaxed a bit. She seemed fine, except for that leg injury. Drago wondered how, if they hadn't hurt her here, she got the injury. He was glad she wasn't hurt otherwise; being an old man with a limp was quite acceptable, but to be stuck with something like that at a young age could change a person's life forever. "Well that's good. My first time round, they broke my leg," He said, indicating his slightly-off limb, "and it never did heal quite right. Now I've got myself a limp. I suppose it fits in with the grumpy old man routine, but it's not very fun nonetheless."

"And you are?"

Dragomir, though he didn't stand up, swept his hand across the air in front of his midsection and lowered his head in a mock bow. "My name is Dragomir Klepstun, native Romanian and born farmer. It is nice to meet you, though it is a pity that our meeting couldn't have come under more lighthearted circumstances." Drago didn't say it, but he knew that, were it not for the camps, they likely wouldn't have met at all. That was about the only good thing that came from the camps: meeting interesting people.

"You are a mutant?"

Dragomir nodded, and said "If that's what you wanna call it, yeah, but I'm not quite sure how to explain it..." He paused, then said "This collar will hurt like hell, but if you want I can show you." Drago really hoped she didn't want him to show her, because odds are that as soon as he used his mutation the collar would shock him to unconsciousness. However, he was willing to deal with it for the chance to show someone that might actually understand what was happening to him.

”First time round? You’ve been in here before?” Jaxon couldn’t help the incredulous wide eyed stare she gave him for a second too long. The realizing that it might be a bit rude to be looking at him that way, she tried to wipe the expression away. The idea of being in here once was abhorrent, let alone twice. that would be too much for me. I would flip out.

When he gave his name and background Jaxon was taken aback for a moment, but then, her name was Jaxon, so who was she comment on interesting names. He looked like a farmer, like he said, but… ”New York. I guess you could say I am an intern in a real-estate company. How did you learn to speak English? Hardly anyone I’ve met in here does…”

She nodded with a small shrug. It wasn’t really nessacary to say that she would rather meet under different circumstances too. Meeting people was much better when both people weren’t imprisoned at the time. But Jax always seemed to meet people under strange circumstances. Mysterious illnesses, cage fights, dreams of the future. Why not mutant camp?

As soon as he offered to show her his powers she quickly stopped him. ”No! No, please don’t. I know it hurts when I do it, I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You can just… tell me. I was only curious.” Jax didn’t want to see the poor old guy twitching and in pain, and she knew that she didn’t want to test the shock power of her new collar by showing off her powers unless she had to.

”Like, I make these weird creepy creatures appear.”

”First time round? You’ve been in here before?"

The horror in... whatshername's voice was clear to Drago, and he understood completely. For one who had only just been captured, the idea of escaping only to be forced back would be horrible. One wouldn't have had the time to develop the depressed pessimism that many did, nor the shoulder-shrug optimism Drago had. He figured, if he had been able to escape once, eventually the opportunity would arise again. The only reason his escape had not turned into a fullscale breakout was the fact that, with his limp, by the time he would go to wake up anyone and bring them back, the guards would have likely woken from their drunken stupor. This time, however, it would be different. If the opportunity presented itself, Drago would be taking along Jackson with him, no matter the risk.

"Well, not this exact place, no," Drago explained, "but one remarkably like it. A few weeks in there was not fun, let me tell you. Trust me though, you get used to camp life soon enough. Just don't let it go to your head, sweetie. We will get out, that I can assure." Though he didn't say it, Dragomir bowed his head slightly and thought And I will have revenge, that I can assure.

”New York. I guess you could say I am an intern in a real-estate company. How did you learn to speak English? Hardly anyone I’ve met in here does…”

New York. America. Such a land of possibilities, where even a lowly farm-grown hippy could achieve greatness. Ah, she had asked a question. "My mother had moved to Romania from Britain before she met my father. She insisted on teaching all of us English, despite my father's protests. Most people here speak Romanian, I suppose that would make it hard to communicate if you don't know the language."

”No! No, please don’t. I know it hurts when I do it, I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You can just… tell me. I was only curious. Like, I make these weird creepy creatures appear.”

A demon summoner. A demon caller. Evil. That was Drago's first thought. But then he remembered that creepy creatures could mean any number of things. He reigned in his expression, but a flicker of fear or disgust had passed through his face. "I can turn garbage... Well if I shape it into a humanoid figure, I can make trash come to life, in a way."

Of course, somewhere else. That would be beyond awful if you got out only to be dragged back to the exact same place. "Yeah, a few days hasn't been fun, so I can't imagine a few weeks being any better." A few weeks… Blegh. The idea of getting out was appealing, but at the same time seemed like a dream, the goal so far away. Jax sighed.

Listening to him was kind of nice. She had felt very alone because of the language barrier, so it was comforting in a way. Jaxon nodded at his explanation and smirked at herself with a bit of mocking. "Yeah, I should have learned Romanian before I came, but it was a little rushed."

The look on his face when she told him what her powers were made her smile for real though. "Yeah, that… It is exactly what it sounds like and I know it sounds… bad." She gave a soft, quick exhale of breath in place of a real laugh. He was the first mutant she had met who reacted to her powers in a normal way the same way she had. The rest seemed to think it was a very interesting and useful power. Aura even called it beautiful, I think. "I felt the same way after I stopped being scared of myself. But I guess I started to like it because now I miss it."

In fact, Jaxon would give just about anything to be able to pull a beastie and bust out of here. He… everyone here… probably felt the same. Trash huh? She raised her eyebrows in curiosity. "Trash, that's kind of…" She paused, trying to decide on a word. Trashy? Dirty? "Cool, I guess. I mean it is everywhere so it must be useful."

"Yeah, a few days hasn't been fun, so I can't imagine a few weeks being any better."

Drago nodded, then said "Yeah, the more used to the idea of you being powerless the guards get, the more one of two things happens. Either they treat you like actual human beings, or they turn into monsters. Depends on the type of person they are, I suppose."

"Yeah, I should have learned Romanian before I came, but it was a little rushed."

Drago raised an eyebrow, inviting a more in-depth explanation, but when none was forthcoming he let it go. People will always have things they don't want to talk about; Drago had a few of his own.

"Yeah, that… It is exactly what it sounds like and I know it sounds… bad. I felt the same way after I stopped being scared of myself. But I guess I started to like it because now I miss it."

Drago nodded. He could perfectly understand her feelings. "I know what you mean. I only had my... gift... for a single day before the police k-... before I was captured." The pain in his voice was obvious, and he whispered in romanian, more to himself than anything, "I still wonder, sometimes, what my life would be like now without this... thing."[/b][/color]

"Trash, that's kind of…"

"Disgusting? That's the way I would describe it let me tell you. Try calling it anything else when you're up to your elbows in yesterday's who-knows-what." Drago laughed a little. Though many would find his ability repulsive, he had no problem with getting down and dirty. The pig pen required cleaning often, and the cow patties didn't clean themselves up.

"Cool, I guess. I mean it is everywhere so it must be useful."

"Yeah, and it's not even like they are mindless slaves or anything, some of them seem to have brains or something. Some don't, and I really haven't figured out why yet." In fact, his entire power was a mystery to Drago, except for the fact that it worked.

Jax really didn't want to be around when the guards decided which side of that fence they were on, the treat her like crap side or the semi-nice side. She kept hopig that rescue was on the way and judging by the way some of the other inmates had been talking, that there were ressistance members in the camp causing problems-things like that, rescue was supposed to be on the way. But things had been grimm and if it were true, whatever trouble they were causing was only making the guards nervous and making it harder on the other inmates.

"Wait... You only had your powers for a day?..." She had to shake her head with a smile at that. He must have been near the age he was now when he got his powers. "And they say I was a late bloomer."

She shrugged off the disgusting comment about his powers. Was it a little gross? Sure, but Jax was a girl and girls experienced loads of gross things. Would it be a little dissapointing to have a mutant power but have it be trash manipulation? Yes. But it wasn't eating out of the trash, so it could be worse. And the fact that the trash was somewhat sentient was interesting. She was about to ask more questions, who wouldn't when there was a loud noise above their heads and the lights went out. After a long moment, the reddish emergency backup lights went on.

"What the...." Before she had a chance to say more she heard more sounds of fighting. she shifted her neck reaching under it to adjust it, only to find that she didn't get a shock in punishment. Experimentally, she looked for the well of power in her mind and the collar still offered no response. Looking at the few others she could see, the little blinking green lights that had always been active were dark and still. Using the bars for support, she struggled to stand and let a tendril of power come forward. No shock.

"Drago... Escape is looking more a nd more possible, wouldn't you say?" Resisting the urge to tell him to get up, he was a smart enough guy it seemed like, and Jax was never one to boss around her elders, she moved to the door. The guards were gone, out of sight fighting whatever was going on. Shaking the bars of the door, she wobbled clumsily when the lock actually jiggled. Not only were the lights and the shock collars apparently out of order.... so were the doors and lock. It only took a bit of wrist turngin on the outside of the door to reach over and unlatch the actual catch that held the door in place.

The others were starting to realise the same things as they watched her and soon doors were being blown off with explosions and teens were hooting and hollering happily in Romanian. It sounded like the rescue was being fough on another level, so they couldn't just sit around and wait for people to come get them. When the door swung open Jax let the others in her cell otu first before limping her way to Drago's door. "I think it's time to get out of here, how about you?" She grinned goofily as she easily opened his cell door, already plotting how they would get out and hopefully to the upper levels. Maybe her friends were up there, someone she knew at least

"Wait... You only had your powers for a day? And they say I was a late bloomer."

Dragomir shook his head, chuckling. "Well, I have had a bit of practice since then, but honestly, not much." He snapped his fingers, and said "It's not clean and neat, I don't even know if it's all I can do. Lots of kinks, but I'm sure it'll get itself worked out eventually." He nodded confidently, for he was determined to find out all he could about his powers.

When the lights went out, Drago sighed. Looks like the party's starting without us. he thought, shaking his head slowly. Something certainly was going on up there, and Drago wasn't sure he liked it. Still, whatever it was, it was giving him and Jaxon the opportunity to escape.

"What the.... Drago... Escape is looking more and more possible, wouldn't you say?"

He smiled as he saw her experiment with her collar and the doors, and found them unlocked. "I would, I would indeed. Give me a moment, please." He said, as Jaxon moved out of her cell and opened his door. He limped himself over to the large pile of refuse in the corner, bits of wood, plastic, and old newspapers all glued together with unmentionables. Drago dove right in, creating a rudimentary skeleton out of wood and plastic for a bit of support, layering the newspapers almost like muscle, and then placing more plastic on the outside in strategic places for armor. It was a patchwork thing, more poorly made even than his usual ones, but it seemed sturdy enough and it would just have to do.

Drago then reached inside his patched-up shirt, into a secret compartment sown inside his armpit area. He pulled out a small cloth bag, and when he upended it on the floor, about twelve shivs of all sizes popped out. He selected the biggest and sharpest ones, and applied them to the fists of his creation. He then turned to Jaxon and said "You want one?"

Regardless of her answer, Drago placed his hand on the golem and closed his eyes, sending a stream of himself into the creation. When no punishing shock was forthcoming, he opened his eyes to see the four-foot tall thing waiting patiently before him. For Jaxon's benifet, he said his command aloud, pointing at a nearby wooden table. "Smash that."

The golem walked out of the cell and to the table, then raised it's arms above it's head. When they crashed down, the cheap table splintered, it's legs falling off. Drago grabbed one to use as a cane, and said "Excellent, now follow us. Shall we?"

Jax understood kinks in powers. She had come to the conclusion that every one started out with problems in their powers, some figured it out and some just had to live with the weird things. Like sticking your hands in a pile of trash? That was a definite con to the man's powers, but after seeing him bring the pile of garbage and build a weird little thing, it looked like the pros outweighed the con. When he offered her a little home-made knife, she hesitated only a moment before taking one. Looking at it, and watching him put life into the garbage-golem, she was reminded that it might be a good idea to pull a one of two of her own creatures. After a moment she was pulling a demon from... from wherever it came from.

The intangible form slowly built opacity until it was as solid as Jaxon or Dragomir. It's head, if it could be called that, reached approximatly her waist. The only thing that distinguished the things head from anything else was the mouth. With four legs, slimy skin, a mouth full of teeth, two tentacle looking things with spikes and one tentacle with at least three visible eyes, the thing was a beast. One of the stranger ones she had called, that was for sure. Both she and the beast watched Dragomir command the golem, then she nodded at it's destructive power. "I think we shall." Jaxon was getting into a better mood at just this opportunity to get out. The idea that they might not make it was hovering but she didn't care. Damned if she wasn't going to try.

Tugging at her collar, which wasn't coming off despite being inactive, they began making the somewhat slow journey out of the compound. Both of them had bad legs and were being passed by the uninjured captives. Guards that they passed were either unconcious or dead, and Jax didn't care which at this point. It was chaos in the tunnels, and she just wanted some fresh air and some room. She got kicked twice before she moved so that her demon would walk ahead, effectivly clearing a path for them. They were getting close, the sounds and vibrations of battle were getting louder and stronger, palpable excitement and tension in the air. Teens ran back and forth, some cowered just waiting for their chance to escape unscathed.

Pausing to catch her breath and try to ease the throbbing in her calf, one hand braced against a wall, she turned to Dragomir to check on him. "How are you doing? It sounds like we are getting close..." Jaxon hesitated, wondering if she should stay with him, take him with her topside, or leave him to his own devices. She knew almost instantly what she had to do. If he would come with her was up to him. "My friends... They might be out there but they might not, either way I have to look. I have to... do something you know? You can come if you want or you can stay here, maybe help others get out?" Jaxon was giving him an out, incase he didn't want to come with her, she would understand.

"I think we shall." Drago noticed Jaxon tugging at her collar, as if trying to get it off. Drago didn't even bother, for he knew full well that when all was said and done, everyone would probably be getting a triple dose of zzzzzzzpp!!! until they pass out, and then back into the cells. Still, he wanted to try to escape, if only for the principle of the thing.

Drago continued to follow Jaxon, his golem leading the way. He had hope that that time might be the time that they actually succeeded at escaping, but he sincerely doubted it. He managed to keep up with Jaxon for the most part, the cane aiding in his movement

"How are you doing? It sounds like we are getting close. My friends... They might be out there but they might not, either way I have to look. I have to... do something you know? You can come if you want or you can stay here, maybe help others get out?"

"I'm holding up just fine, thanks for asking. Whatever's causin' that ruckus is going to be a pain in my bony old kiester if it ain't on our side. You do what you feel you have to do, Jack- Jax- Jason. I think I might just follow you around. After we break out of this place, i figure you guys might need someone to show you around or something. I might not be much use in a fight, but I certainly know Romania. And... Well, that's something for later."

Drago had been meaning to ask if there would be a way that he could make his path in the direction of America. He had felt that it would be presuming too much too soon, however, so he dismissed it. Perhaps later, after they escaped, he would ask. For the time being, though, Dragomir would try to stick with Jaxon.

Jaxon used the same caution with Dragomir's golem as everyone else seemed to use around her beast, giving it plenty of room so no accidents happened, though she didn't fear it. She was almost starting to think it was cute, in a similar way that she had been starting to like her creatures.

Jaxon paused, letting them both catch their breath and take a moment to rest. He unused muscles were complaining about the sudden activity after so long being stagnant, and she was becoming aware of bruises as well as her throbbing leg. She could only imagine the same thing was going on only more so with the older man. She gave him a grim sardonic smile at his offer of a Romanian tour. "No offense to Romania, but I plan to get the hell out of this country as soon as possible…"

In fact, Jax's plan went along the lines of: get out of here, get a cheeseburger, get on a plane, though the order of the cheeseburger and the plane could be switched. She wasn't going to be picky so long as she didn't have to stay in the mutant hating country and got some real food instead of gruel. Hell, regular plane food even sounded good, but Jax knew the food on the private plane would be much better.

She thought for a moment about who could be out there turning this place into rubble… "Well, I have a few guesses about who might be out there. The Xmen and the Sanctuary mutants are the first that come to mind, and they aren’t a danger to us. I live at the Sanctuary when I'm in New York so I know some of them." There were the Xmen of course, who wouldn't harm anyone that wasn't causing trouble. In fact they would probably be helping get the mutants out of the country and back to where they wanted to be. And she didn't doubt that the mutants from the Sanctuary had grouped up and would be attempting something to help, and many of them had known Jax. They might be hurting the guards but she didn't think they would be too rough. Sometimes Jax was naïve about her friends, but she preferred to think the best of them. They definitely wouldn't be hurting the mutants trying to escape. The likelihood of both being here at the same time was a bit far-fetched but not completely out of the realm of possibility.

Then there were the not so good options. "Honestly, I hope it is them, because the other people it might be aren’t as predictable. It could be a Romanian mutant group, or it could be people trying to exterminate the whole facility to wipe out the mutants inside." Jax wasn't even sure there were enough Romanian mutants left to mount this kind of operation, and there was no telling how organized they were, or how they were going about determining who was a threat. The latter was the least likely. Anti-mutant groups probably liked watching mutants suffer, and there wouldn't be so fierce a battle if they were basically on the same side as the guards. But if they were religious nuts trying to wipe out the species? That was bad. The collars being turned off could have been an accident in that case, just a by product of the fight.

If Dragomir wasn't good in a fight the two of them would have to find a less aggressive way out. Jax wasn't exactly skilled in fighting either. "Okay, I think we should try to find out who is out there, then if they are the good options, follow their lead. If it is a bad option, then we should group up with some others trying to get out. What do you think?"

"No offense to Romania, but I plan to get the hell out of this country as soon as possible…"

Drago laughed, one of those deep-belly laughs that one makes when truly amused. "I think I can agree with that sentiment there. I'da been on a plane first time after breaking out, but.." Drago didn't really want to say that he didn't have half the money it would cost for a plane to Britain, let alone America where he really wanted to go. He hadn't talked to his son in years, and if there was anywhere he knew he would be able to not stand out, it was America. Substinance farming only got you enough money each year to maybe buy a nice candlestick or a couple chickens for a treat, and in years past Drago had been more concerned with providing for his family than anything else. Since they... well, since he found out about his gift, it all changed.

"Well, I have a few guesses about who might be out there. The Xmen and the Sanctuary mutants are the first that come to mind, and they aren’t a danger to us. I live at the Sanctuary when I'm in New York so I know some of them. Honestly, I hope it is them, because the other people it might be aren’t as predictable. It could be a Romanian mutant group, or it could be people trying to exterminate the whole facility to wipe out the mutants inside."

Drago stopped laughing at that sobering thought. It was entirely possible that was the case. "Well, if they are trying to kill us, I think they'll get more than they bargained for. I don't know anything about any Romanian mutant groups, though Charge did mention some sort of resistance. We will just have to see what happens."

"Okay, I think we should try to find out who is out there, then if they are the good options, follow their lead. If it is a bad option, then we should group up with some others trying to get out. What do you think?"

"Well, I-" Drago stopped as he was knocked flying into a full trash bin by an exploding wall. He almost laughed as he saw some sort of living red-colored tree smashing everything it could see. When what Drago assumed to be a mutant saw Drago and Jax, he creaked and charged. Drago's golem intercepted it, slashing at the ankles and reaching arms with it's blades, leaving large furrows, but doing no more than distracting it. The golem managed to dodge the lumbering thing well, though it was inevitable it would eventually get smashed to bits.

"RUN, I got this! Go, find your friends, get out of here!" Drago shouted, and began rapidly assembling a six-foot tall golem out of the trash. He would have to let his other golem go before he could make the new one, but the new one would be a bit better and much stronger. He made a general humanoid form, but with three legs, pieces of roundish glass in it's torso for eyes, and a large, very strong arm jutting from the top of it's torso in place of a head. Making the golem took about five minutes, in which time the smaller one had one of it's arms taken off, and still hadn't done much to the tree-ish creature.

Drago placed shivs along the arm of the very heavy-duty creature, and then commanded the golem to go suicidal. It leaped up to the tree-thing's face, and was smashed to little pieces. Drago placed his hand on the golem and drew it to life. The shivs on it's arm began to rotate with a whir, making a make-shift chainsaw. The creature took a few steps to find it's balance, then advanced on the tree, chainsaw blade swinging.

The tree had no chance against the blade, and was quickly chopped to little pieces. A small child, no more than four years old, tumbled around the corner. "Aww, yuuh busted twiggew! Oh welw. Bye bye, mistah!" And then the child walked off.

Shaking his head, Drago told his golem to stop the whirring of the blade, then to put Drago so that he was straddling the arm, in a place where he had put some more armor than the rest of the creature, for a joint was always a vulnerable place. Then, he went on his way, looking for a way out...