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Anthro Sex Squad Story 1 - Vibra's Story

By Killenor

Arc 1 - Origins

Chapter 4

Nobody missed the dozen mounted knights riding into the village. They rode at once into the center of the people's celebrations, driving everyone out of the square they had erected in the road. The armored forms, a metallic blend of horse and man smashed aside tables, scattering the half-finished feast to the ground. They rode with their swords sheathed and their lances stowed, bearing instead a torch of bright violet fire, the symbol of the Gurftheim royalty.

The folk of the village gathered at the edges of their ruined square, some entranced by the spectacle of the Knights of the Royal Flame and others bemoaning the trashed state of the party they had just previously been enjoying.

A herald, decked in the livery of the Crown Prince Chrisholn, rode between the knights, holding aloft a great banner. A horn of decorated brass came to his lips and sounded a mighty, resonant blast.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Chrisholn, heir to the throne of Gurftheim and lord of these lands approaches! All his subjects will kneel and recite the peasants' oath of fealty and shall raise neither head or eye until his highness bids it so!"

At the herald's words, all gathered about the circle knelt as they were told.

***

High above the valley, Vibra soared upon a grand thermal. Her gigantic body mattered not to the wind and her powerful muscles and strong feathers pushed her ever higher. The children upon her back squealed with sheer delight and even a little rush of fear at being so high and going so fast. Though she tried to ignore it, every rise and fall caused the little ones to grip the small, soft feathers upon her back. All she could do was grit her beak and take a passing glance at her own shining white feathers drifting upon the wind.

As her flight leveled upon a particularly smooth thermal she paused to reflect on the recent kindnesses the humans had visited. They were so different from the folk which my mother told me I had descended from, and with that awful emissary, so varied!

She wondered, amid the giggles of the children, what she would tell her own hatchlings when the day came. Would she attempt such a radical change? A family? Would she explain humanity? Or was it better that they learn for themselves?

"Look 'ere Vibra!" one of the children, "Som'fing me'al is on the ground! Wha' 'appened to the party?

Shaken from her thoughts, Vibra cast her golden eye below. The child was right! Several armored humans riding armored horses (her hosts were kind enough to teach her proper terms) had surrounded the square below! Down the road a pair of large carriages approached.

Her incredible raptor vision allowed her to pick out detail with amazing resolution. She noticed that one carriage bore torches burning with purple flame at each corner. The sides were resplendent with silken curtains and the glitter of gold. The armored men also carried these torches with purple flame. Somehow, she knew that trouble had come early to the hamlet.

Wheeling about in a wide arc for a better vantage she watched the townsfolk gather and fall to their knees as the flame-bearing carriage pulled into the ruined square. A dip lower for more clarity showed the emissary emerging rolling out a strip of red fabric from the door as he went. Moments later another man, even fancier than the emissary emerged. He bore a crown upon his brow and a long, luxurious purple cape draped from his shoulders (the closest thing to wings she had ever seen on a human). At his belt could be seen the hilt of a sword of unparalleled craftsmanship and under his arm he bore a long metal rod that accentuated his swagger.

"Children," Vibra said cautiously, "I may have to get you to safety. Hold on tight and I promise I'll protect you if I can."

***

"That I am here, speaking to peasants, is a sign that something is dreadfully wrong," sneered Chrisholn, "To bear witness of your dirty selves kneeling before me makes me wonder if groveling is even enough for this insult. To compound matters, you dirt-farmers dare to ally yourselves with one of the wild beast-folk of this land!"

The farmers shrunk back as the prince spat upon them. Then the prince held forth the object carried beneath his arm and pointed it at the sky

"The kingdom of Gurftheim shall not tolerate this wild beast! By accepting this creature you have violated your oaths to my father and myself! A toll must be exacted for such treachery and I shall be the one to take it!"

Prince Chrisholn raised the rifle to his eye, took aim at the circling bird-form above, and squeezed back the trigger.

The fearful shrieks of the peasants, surprised at the explosive cacophony, did nothing to drown out the anguished scream of one terrified mother.

***

A flash and a bang from the ground was all the warning Vibra had. Only the fact that she balked at the sudden, distant noise saved her. A sudden spark of pain shot through her neck and a splash of bright crimson puffed out before her eyes. The sudden stop to her glide brought her into an immediate twisting plummet, her great weight acting against her as she reflexively bunched her limbs at the agony of her wound.

The children slipped from her back, their fingers trying desperately to find purchase among her feathers but to no avail. They fell away screaming as Vibra attempted to blink away her pain.

***

Chrisholn handed his rifle to the herald.

"No challenge at all, what pitiful sport." he sighed, pulling an exquisitely embroidered handkerchief from a pocket to wipe away the smoke from his face. As he lamented the ease of his latest kill, a disturbing sound met his ear. Some woman was screaming.

He pulled his eyes onto the crowd to see several of the peasants looking sky-ward. In a second he noticed why.

Two tiny figures were falling alongside the giant bird-woman.

There had been children riding that beast!

He watched with stony dispassion as the bird twisted out of her bunched form and made for the falling children. With deft skill that should not have been possible for such a huge creature, she swooped and caught a child in each foot! She then entered into a descending glide to the cheers of those treacherous peasants!

"Another rifle!" Chrisholn screamed, "NOW!"

"NOOO!" can the cry of the mother as she rushed forward in a blind, and foolish, attempt to save her children.

She made it within a hands-width of the prince before, in an inhumanly fast motion, he drew his sword and buried it in her chest. The mother of the falling children stopped with her hands a mere breath away from her tyrannical prince's throat, blood rising to her lips.

"Such treachery has no place among my subjects," the prince grated in harsh whispers that all could hear.

A casual flick sent the gurgling body sprawling back into the dirt with the rest of the peasant scum. Grabbing the new rifle from his herald, he returned his gaze to the sky only to find that the bird-woman was nowhere in it.

"Blasted WASTE!" the prince screamed with the choler of being denied his kill. He whipped around to the groveling peasants. "You shall all suffer for this humiliation!"

He turned his gaze upon the corpse of the mother he had killed. A man, no doubt her husband, clutched at her bloody body and wept. With only a sneer Chrisholn raised the gun to his cheek and fired. Just as suddenly there was a round, red spot in the man's forehead, barely the size of a coin. The back of his skull erupted with the force of the shot splattering those near him with brain and bone.

"At least I did not waste the kill-shot," he chuckled icily, "No matter. The beast will return here. She will be angry at me for hurting her. It is not in the raptor's nature to run from an enemy. I simply must be patient."

He threw his rifle back to his herald. Out again came the handkerchief to dab at spots of uncleanliness. Making his way back to the carriage he stopped to stare down his emissary.

"Load up everything of value these people have," Chrisholn said coldly, "their winter stores, their possessions, everything. I want it all ready to go at a moment's notice. Have the guards clap this entire rabble in chains, all of them. I want every scrap of their harvest."

The prince threw open the curtains to his carriage.

"Out equerry!" he nearly shouted, "draw up the orders to have this lot... replaced, by spring. It is end of autumn anyhow. They would be idle all winter no doubt, and their stores could feed many loyal citizens. Oh, and send in a whore from the cart, a fresh one for I shall need the energy."

With that the curtains fluttered shut behind the prince. Every man he had brought with him rushed to do his bidding lest their ruler's next kill be on their own head.