He, too, comes to the Marsh on a regular basis. Not because he has any great love for the place - there is little to appeal to the eyes here in this barren arsehole of Helovia - but because he is sure that here lies the key to Kaos's demise. The memory of the battle is fresh in his mind; they'd thrown everything at him, utilised everything at their disposal, but still they had not brought him down. It just doesn't seem right or fair to the Indomitable; everything has a weakness. There has to be some way to defeat Kaos, but Volterra knows that discovering it is going to be a long and difficult road.

He feels that he can take the first few steps along that road by scrutinising every inch of the Marsh, especially the hideous altar that the bone monster spawned from. The place is vile, even by Volterra's standards. There's little to eat, no shelter, no warmth, no hint of life or the ability to sustain anything bigger than a maggot. It reeks of death, perhaps because this is where Kaos made his first kill in the form of that unfortunate silver mare. The memory sticks in the black warlord's mind like a seed caught in his throat - he hadn't known the woman, but watching her children weep over her corpse had affected him right down to his bones. Volterra is not an empathetic, kind or pleasant man, but he does value his children more than almost anything else in his life. He is a fine warrior, but if he gets too bold and dies...it could be his offspring shedding tears over his lifeless, mangled body, and that is not the legacy he wishes to leave them.

It is all the more vital that they find a way to take down Kaos, and soon. His dragons loop and circle around the altar of bones, scrutinising it for any hints on how to destroy the creature, whilst Volterra makes his slow, steady way across the squelchy ground. It isn't long before he realises that he is not alone - there's a pegasus mare nearby, her two-toned body moving through the Marsh with the same painstaking concentration that the goliath himself is displaying. With his curiosity piqued, the stallion prowls closer. "It is unusual to find somebody else here," he remarks. He's made many previous visits here, desperately hunting for clues, and he's not once met anybody else. "What brings you to this particular shithole?" The word is said with venom - he's sure the mare shares his distaste for the land, as any horse should.

I can't get this place out of my head. He grunts his agreement. There is something about the Marsh that is innately haunting, like the aftermath of a bad dream that lingers in the back of the mind for days afterwards. Volterra cannot stop dwelling on the place, on Kaos, even when he knows he should simply let it go and leave it up to somebody else to deal with. That's just not how the goliath Gladiator operates. He is proactive, a leader; if nobody else cares about stopping Kaos, then he sure as hell does.

Perhaps he has found a kindred spirit in this mare. He vaguely recognises her from numerous gatherings around Helovia, but has no idea of her name or title. As she remarks on the fact that Kaos could be waiting to spring out at any moment, the black titan nods. "Aye, we must remain alert, as I am sure his next move is not far away." Volterra frowns, flicking one ear irritably as he thinks of the hideous creature. As a warrior, the Indomitable has very set rules about the rights and wrongs upon a battlefield. He likes to know who he's fighting, size up their weaknesses, strike, and win. This lingering worry about Kaos goes against everything he's learned, everything he prefers - the creature's silence is deafening, and the whole of Helovia is waiting on tenterhooks for the other shoe to drop. It simply isn't fair that the monster can take the population unawares whenever it wants, instead of adhering to the strict rules of combat that Volterra does.

But, he keeps telling himself, life isn't always fair. Life isn't always an organised spar, contested between two equally matched opponents. Life is surprise attacks, cowardly thieves in the night, a knife in the back. In a way, the young warlord is naiive in his belief that Kaos should obey the unwritten rules of Helovia - he has to keep reminding himself that there are no rules, not really. Kaos can do whatever the hell he wants, and it's up to them to stop him.

She asks what brings him here, and the black monolith releases a huff before he replies. "I have been searching for clues on how to defeat him. He has to have a weakness, he just has to, but finding it is far harder than I could have anticipated." Try as he might, Volterra cannot see any chink in Kaos' armour. "And you? Forgive me, but you do not seem like the combative sort." He couldn't see her taking up arms against Kaos, but he admits that looks can be deceiving.

Her snort and the bitter sting of her voice make him wonder if he has hit a nerve with his assumption that she does not appear to be a warrior. That's not to say that she hasn't the potential to be one, but the beast has noticed a lack of scars upon her pelt and an unruffled air that speaks of a woman unfamiliar with the battlefield. It is not intended to be an insult - not everybody is like him, war-minded and militaristic.

The two-toned mare adds that she would fight if her home was threatened, and Volterra inclines his head in acknowledgement. "Of course." The leviathan likes to think that everybody, even the doctors and weaklings of the world, would jump into action against Kaos as they had against the Rift Gods, but whether that's merely an assumption on his part remains to be seen. Most people who had attacked Kaos during his reveal had been warriors like Volterra, whilst the rest hung back or tended to the wounded.

Are you practiced in finding the weaknesses of others? Suddenly there's an impassioned smile upon his face, a glint in his eye, a dark hint to his expression. This is his life's work, his love, his duty. "I like to think so." His crimson gaze never leaves the mare as he speaks, resisting the urge to automatically flicker across her body and hunt for her weaknesses. "I am the Gladiator of the Dragon's Throat - a warrior through and through. It is up to me to find weaknesses in my opponents and exploit them. Something as obvious as a missing eye to indicate blindness on one side, or something as subtle as a slight favouring of one limb, can tell me where best to aim my blows for maximum effect." But these are the easy, obvious signs - true subtlety lies in the breed, height and weight differences of his various opponents, all presenting a different challenge to him.

"Perhaps it was foolish of me to think that searching this place would give me a clue as to the chink in Kaos' armour. All I know is that he will have one, and as soon as we find it, we can destroy it." There's strength in his voice, determination. Volterra will not give up the hunt, however futile, until Kaos has been punished for his sins. "My name is Volterra, by the way. Who are you?"

He nods his agreement to her words. Indeed, the destruction of Kaos has become a passion - bordering on an obsession - for him. He isn't sure what exactly it is about the creature that makes him so eager to annihilate him, although he thinks part of it is because the bastard seems so damn indestructible that Volterra is taking it as a personal affront when he can't find anything to exploit. Most of the reason, though, is that the Indomitable for all his flaws is an open and honest man who values truth and trust, who abhores facades and lies. Kaos had taken the trust of Helovians and twisted it like a snake in the grass, bending them to his bidding and making it all seem like a good idea.

If the creature had simply arrived and tried to enslave them all then perhaps Volterra wouldn't have been so pissed off about it, because at least that shows some semblance of honesty. To arrive wearing a fake face and to play at friendship before slipping a knife firmly between the ribs of those who tried to help him? That, in the warlord's eyes, is unforgiveable.

"Why not one of us indeed," he rumbles in agreement. She gives her name and her place in the World's Edge, and the beast's interest elevates another fraction. "Well, Alysanne of the World's Edge, would you care to join me in searching for clues about Kaos?" With a jerk of his colossal head he invites the winged mare to walk with him on a hunt through the Marsh.