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“It was impossible."

Dawn light streamed into the cave, filtered by a thin screen of fresh snow which obscured several entryways into this hillside hollow. Only one was unimpeded, a window of steely-grey sky directly above from which a few flakes of white still drifted down. The interior space was rather large, an arena of dark stone marked with the scratchings of many sets of talons left over years of activity. And as his companion refused to speak a word, Raphael had declared that now was a prime opportunity to put his thoughts in order, pacing back and forth as he spoke or rather – vented, “There is no cross-breeding in this world. An Elf and a Human do not make a Half-Elf. Half-Elves, that staple fantasy race, simply don't exist here. No species of being can have offspring with any other, and it has resulted in a society and culture which reflects this with divisions between the various races. Humans, Elves, and Dwarves are the apex of civilisation, and all others are considered Monsters and met with varying degrees of hostility. Even this nonsense world has its own twisted verisimilitude."

Despite the cold, he was only lightly dressed. His armoured trousers now reinforced at the crotch for riding, his boots more worn than ever, and a lovingly repaired cloak wrapping up his shirt. The Ring of Warmth upon his finger was to blame, mitigation against the freezing temperatures of the cave and altitude, “According to the book I was directed to, a female Deathclaw lays one egg every few years, passing them with little ceremony and usually simply eating the unfertilised ones. But when one is fertilised, they become lethargic and gluttonous. They carry it for several months, and after laying it, the egg is kept for a few months more before it hatches. I have fertilised such an egg. Somehow. And it is soon due."

“After observing my panic and cackling maniacally for a while, the World God assured me this is entirely within his expectations and that I shouldn't worry. An expansion of [Tame], he says. As far as the biological process goes, it's as if I were a male of the same species, my essence adapting to match my Pet. From me any offspring will inherit only a few minor traits. Nothing substantial enough to constitute some fucked up chimeric half-breed. That at least put me a little at ease. But after he suggested that I next try to knock up my Skaven, I chased him off back to… wherever he goes."

“I told Khut of course – I had to. On the plus side of things, it was news to distract her from me having spent half of our funds on a Slave I'd purchased on a whim and grown unreasonably attached to almost immediately. She then hit me with a hearty, 'you made me say my womb belongs-owned by you, so it is'. And that was that. We've fucked plenty, so the conception rate must be exceptionally low. I framed this as a positive, and she responded with a demand that we need to 'sex-fuck more often, then'."

Raphael ceased his march and closed his eyes, “There's a lot to unpack there. I'm still processing, really."

It was some time before he resumed his tale, “What hadn't changed was our dire need of funds. Well, I suppose it changed in that it's now intensified somewhat with Kara's egg on the way and Khut rather overt in her hints that she wants the same. I needed to find work suitable for a Beastmaster within the confines of the Holy City or in thirty days we would be back in the wilderness facing winter in a tent. Rather conveniently, at the same library where I picked up the Deathclaw Ecology book, I ran into a junior guardsman, a Knight Squire, who spotted me reading and struck up a conversation. Providence of the World God, I imagine. The North Gate squadron had need of a Beastmaster."

He spread his arms wide to indicate the commencement of his lecture, speaking as if quoting a guidebook, “The Knightly Order protects the Holy City in service of the Papacy, with the Pope doubling as King. This Trinity Theocracy governs the region and preaches submission to the Sun, Moon, and World gods, and the racial superiority of Elves, Humans, and Dwarves. Apex Skill users are considered to be Divine Messengers, Saints, and Legendary Heroes, the centrepieces of their great mythos."

Raphael attempted neutrality, “It sounds somewhat oppressive, but in practice, everyone seems to generally get along just fine. Most of the time. Bravura is a strong example of where it can all go so terribly wrong. But this isn't a world which could withstand modern ideas about equality, and many Monsters truly do have racial instincts which are antithetical to civilisation. It's not for an interloper like me to judge or to change things."

“It's because of all of this that I was cautious of the Knights. If they discovered that I have an Apex Skill, then I can't imagine how the Papacy would react. Additionally, I was concerned that they may find my relationship with my Pets to be… problematic. Though that second worry was dispelled somewhat quickly. As I enquired about the job, one of the Knight's wives showed up to drop off a lunch he'd forgotten. A rather pleasant Gnoll lady. The poor chap was brutalised with pegging jokes after she left, but I'd been able to see firsthand that while Monsters may be considered lesser races, that idea wasn't quite so aggressive in its implementation as I'd thought. Well, so long as they have papers or a collar."

“As for the task they would have of me; I was to assist in the training of a flight of Gryphons, newly arrived from the Western Aerie. Hatched on a distant mountain, Gryphons are trained in their native climate from egg to adulthood, the final phase being acclimatisation to the Holy City and bonding to their new Knight partners. I would have a hand in this last stage of development."

“There's a lot to do. A Gryphon must learn how to stand on parade. How to handle the press of a crowd without panic. How to suppress the instinct to hunt some of the Monster races here. And a great deal more. Monsters can be unpredictable, and to train them is considered to be quite dangerous work, but very lucrative. My particular collection of Pets gifts me a very high level of credibility as a Beastmaster, and I was offered one gold coin per day for my services. I argued them up to two." He wore a cheeky grin, rather pleased with himself for this feat of negotiation. The Knights had been quite desperate, the former Gryphon Master having recently retired, and their intended replacement mauled on his first day, surrendering his post on the second.

“Gryphons are an intelligent race comparable in thought to humans. Smart enough to understand the common tongue, but lacking the necessary vocal components to speak it. Communication comes in squarks and trills and body language, but it's so much more elaborate than the grunts and tail flicks of a Deathclaw." So intricate was the language in fact that despite these creatures being so integral to the military and culture of the Holy City, everyone had simply given up attempting to translate it. Though it was common for riders to present their Mounts illustrated cards to tap at to indicate their meaning, “There's enough depth to it for us to actually have a proper conversation thanks to my gift of understanding all tongues granted by the World God. I've refrained from using my [Tame] even once. As a Beastmaster, resorting to my Apex Skill would feel like a defeat when I've already got so many advantages."

“Despite impressing upon the Knights that I would remain in the Holy City only for the season and intended to resume my travels in the Spring, they courted me ceaselessly to enlist. Fresh recruits are Squires, and when the Mages master their Sin and the Martials master their Skill, they are elevated to the rank of Knight, taking an oath to the Pontiff, and being bestowed a Gryphon mount. There are lots of Squires, but very few Knights, for those that have a Rune or are capable of learning a martial Skill are exceptionally scarce." He reviewed his knowledge of the organisation for his own benefit, the large creature before him looking a little bored at what was common understanding for them.

“Of course, there are exceptions. The Nobility gets a free pass should they choose this route, typically ending up in glamorous ceremonial roles. An Adventurer might receive a great boon or Knighthood from the Pontiff for noteworthy heroics, or a skilled Diplomat as a reward for their politics. And Beastmasters are also promoted often, their services invaluable in the management of Monsters within the Holy City, responsible for the assessment of the 'lesser races' on entry and the processing of Slaves. They assured me that I would be fast-tracked to Knighthood, but I turned them down every time."

The human sighed deeply, looking somewhat reflective, “It was a pleasant fantasy to muse over, and I must admit to the allure. As a Knight I would have a house within the Holy City, be paid well for my service, and I do quite enjoy this role of managing the Gryphons. I have been a Soldier before, and the idea placing myself into the service of this country which has adopted me is not unpalatable." Another regretful sigh, “I found that I got along quite well with the Knights and Squires, reminded much of the structures of my old world. It was honestly quite comfortable. But I'm afraid of what might happen if my Apex Ability is somehow discovered. Better that I served out my Winter contract quietly, hopefully leaving behind a good enough impression to return next year for the same."

“Two months passed before I knew it, and we all fell into a routine. Kara spent most of her time eating and sleeping – her egg is due any day now, Khut at the library broadening her knowledge or the market hunting for bargains, Bravura undertaking chores, and Alp followed me wherever I went. Each day I would report for duty at the North Gate and spend my day in the company of Gryphons, teaching, grooming, measuring up for barding, disciplining, more grooming, parading, watching over Bonding Ceremonies, and even more grooming. You're a vain species, I'll give you that." He chuckled to himself, though the Gryphon looked rather unamused at this observation.

“The ability to understand Gryphon language went a long way to helping me fulfil my training objectives. I could soothe those that missed the Aerie, answer questions and offer more bespoke guidance, fit and adjust barding, and I'm told that I'm rather good with a brush, too. I spent my time learning the individual characteristics of each Gryphon and took an active role in pairing them up with the most appropriate Knight partners. Yes, my record was flawless until you."

His arms folded across his chest, and Raphael injected a little bit of seriousness into his voice, “It was my second Bonding Ceremony. The newly minted Knights formed a line, and each would step up to have their turn choosing a Mount. I did what I could to nudge things in the right direction, offering a few choice recommendations." He put on a polite tone for a moment, “Necromancy Mage with the Sin of Gluttony, wouldn't you get along rather well with that particularly chubby Gryphon on the end? You have a speed-based Skill? Well, doesn't this Gryphon over here look agile?"

“Each season had only a few intakes of Knights, around a half-dozen each time, and there are always more Gryphons than Knights. I was passing on another recommendation, going over your best points with a young noble Lady I'm quite sure you would find a good bit of common ground with. Regal and well-bred, a little overdressed for a Knight. She gave me the idea that she obsessed about appearances just as much as you do."

His eyes narrowed, “Then you break ranks, knock over three new Knights, send Alp flying, seize me in your claws and I'm getting carried off into the dawn. I hoped not to make this a greater incident than it is already, so I shouted down at them all that I'd handle things, and here we are. I'm just glad you brought me somewhere that I know." Raphael took in the familiar sights of the training area, perhaps only a half-hour flight from the Holy City, “Overlook Hollow, we've trained here a few times."

The Beastmaster relaxed his posture, softening his tone, “So, are you going to tell me why we're here? Today was going to be your big day. You'd get to meet the Pope-King wearing the shiny armour you like and do that fancy bow I taught you alongside your new Master. Then off onto the parade ground with your eggmates to bask in the applause of your admirers. You were to be Talion, Knight-Mount of the Holy City, Defender of the Trinity Faith. What happened?"

The large Gryphon stared at him directly for several seconds, looking like they were about to speak, but then looked away, “No answer? Normally you've got such a lot to say. I actually can't believe you've managed to keep quiet for my whole story." He gave a light-hearted smile, but when met with another glare in response Raphael sighed, “So, you lost your nerve. It happens to the best of us. Don't let it get you down – you'll have your chance again with the next intake of Knights."

That was provocation enough to get a response at last. While communication came in the form of trills and gestures, rumbling warbles and whines, Raphael always imagined a deep and serious voice in his head, receiving the impression of weight on every word as the Gryphon imparted their meaning with sublime arrogance, “I did not lose my nerve, Servant."

Something else, it seemed. Raphael pitched his other idea, “You didn't like the Knight candidate, then? The young noble Lady I was talking to seemed to be a perfect fit for you. I imagined she'd be the sort to obsess over your every feather. She has wealth and status enough to keep you well, and of the sort of lineage that would probably result in her being placed in more of a ceremonial role than anything too dangerous. You'd get to prance around the Holy City dressed up in formal regalia looking all fancy. Isn't this exactly what you've always wanted?"

The Gryphon blinked slowly, yellow-amber eyes staring into him as he issued his demand as a complete non-sequitur, “Groom me, Servant."

“No. I'm not at your beck and call, Talion." He scowled, annoyed by their dismissive haughtiness, “Whatever your reasons are, you pissed off a lot of people today. As your Instructor, I'm going to get an earful from the Knights as well for this. And you knocked over my Pet. Apologise."

There was a long period of silence, but eventually their nerve failed, as it always did, “…I'm sorry."

“Good. You're forgiven." Raphael sighed, his expression softening again, “Your barding shifted when you collided with Alp. It can't have been fun flying with an armour plate pressing into the underside of your wing like that. Let's get it off so I can see to you."

Talion's shoulder levelled at the man's chest, the Gryphon matching his height when stood up. Their body was perhaps comparable in mass to his Deathclaw, quadrupedal and clad in light barding. At the chest, a peytral of reinforced steel, crupper plates at the flanks, and a harness of leather to connect these three shaped piece of metal with the saddle. It was quite the weight, and when combined with a rider required an obscene amount of wing strength to achieve flight. Impacting Alp had skewed the peytral, and it now pressed against the right shoulder near to the wing joint.

Releasing a few buckles and applying the force of his weight to the harness, Raphael unclipped the chest plate, setting it down on the ground and examining the shoulder. Talion gave a grateful trill, “You are attentive for a Servant."

“I do my best, Talion." The Beastmaster opened his satchel, miraculously having managed to keep a hold of his bag of equipment and materials despite his half hour dangling over the plains in their talons, “Are you ready to tell me what was wrong with the Lady?"

Talion huffed, at last fining the words, “When I looked at her, I saw my future. Her armour is well polished, but her hands have not a speck of wear. Her sword has never left its sheathe. I would be the same. An accessory. Groomed and tended to by her underlings. Handsome and adorned in finery. But alone, isolated, and unloved. I reject this fate."

“You're not going to be able to have it both ways, Talion. You're always preening, you do that adorable little shuffle on your talons when we take out the fancy armour for parading, every time we pass a reflective surface you pause to study yourself. The sort of Master that will adorn you in jewel encrusted barding to put you on show in ceremonies outside the Grand Cathedral isn't the same sort of Master that will get their hands dirty taking care of you themselves."

The Gryphon resumed their conceited tone, “I understand this, Servant. What you say is an obvious truth."

Raphael set his hand to the scuffed feathers, parting them to search for any damage while retrieving a jar of antiseptic from his supplies, “Then why did you reject the young Lady? I was really going all out to advertise you there. You were on the cusp of the life you've been talking about ever since you got here."

“My wing hurts."

The man rolled his eyes, finding only the absolute mildest patch of red irritation beneath their plumage. It barely even constituted a scuff. But he applied the poultice anyway, pressing the restorative between the feathers, “You big baby." He smiled despite himself, “Are you going to answer properly this time?"

A short period of silence passed, the Gryphon quiet while Raphael worked on his joint. And then, “When the final moment came, I envisioned the future I have desired since my hatchday, and found to my surprise that it was now unpalatable. That is all."

“A simple shake of your head would have sufficed, you know?" These creatures were always so dramatic, changing their mind at the last possible minute, “Fine. It's my fault for misunderstanding your preferences. I'll take stock of the next batch of candidates and see if I can find you one that's a bit more hands-on to point in your direction. But the Knights that take care of their own Gryphons tend to be those that can't afford Slaves to do it for them, so that glamorous life you had in mind just won't be possible anymore."

Their voice lowered, “To merely shake my head would be insufficient."

But Raphael caught it, “You must admit that this amount of drama is a little extreme, even for you."

The Beastmaster finished his work, brushing the feathers back down and stepping back. But Talion immediately rounded on him, bringing himself up to eye level and capturing his gaze with that yellow-amber glare, “You will listen to my words, Servant." His talons pawed at the stone, adding more scratches to the years of accumulation, “I looked upon that Knight and I envisioned my future as her pampered accessory, and I rejected that. I then looked upon you and imagined a life as your Pet. You are a vagrant. A pauper. And after hearing your fanciful tales of other worlds, I also believe that you are quite mad. Despite this, I choose you. I carried you here to force you to choose me."

Even after everything, Raphael was still taken back, “What? Why?"

The answer was direct, “Because you are attentive enough to me to notice that my wing is chafing. Because you cared to know my character. And because you have treated your Wolfman well enough for him to have fallen in love with you. My decision may have been spontaneous, but I believe it to be the best future for me."

He knew that Alp had been airing his thoughts in the presence of the Gryphons, imitating his Master, but not that he could have said so much. Their relationship was a complicated one. A Wolfman might say that he loves meat, but love as a concept itself is not found within their culture. There is dominance and there is submission, females are to be owned for status and breeding, and males subdued through sex and violence. Everything belonged to the pack Alpha.

Some months ago, it seemed that Alp was on the verge of confessing… something. It's not that Raphael hadn't noticed, simply that there wasn't space for such a thing inside the Wolfman pack dynamic. Was it really love, or was it just another word for his submission? In truth, the Beastmaster was afraid to find out. Afraid to invest his heart when such a thing may be futile.

But in this moment, he had something more immediate to contend with over his own internal turmoil, “I'm very flattered, Talion. Honoured, really. But I'm not a Knight. You belong to the Trinity Church, and I can't just take you for my own."

The Gryphon refused to back down, “Then you shall become a Knight, Servant. It is clear to me that you desire this."

It was too much. Raphael scowled, “You don't get to decide that."

“I am of the finest breeding. The most handsome of my clutch. To become my Servant is a great privilege. Well worth the burden of Knighthood. You should be grateful-"

“Enough, Talion!" His voice was thunderous in the hollow arena of the cavern, Raphael finally pressed too far. The frank insight into Alp had knocked him off balance, and demands that were usually endearing now drove him to fury.

Talion closed his eyes, “…I'm sorry." The Gryphon would always yield to him when spoken to seriously, and it was enough to soften the man's anger, “Please accept me as your Pet."

Raphael sighed, regaining control of himself and speaking in a level tone, “I cannot be a Knight."

“You must petition the Trinity Church. You are a Saint. Reveal yourself and they will do whatever you ask."

“Must I, now?" He shook his head, “And what if they have ambitions beyond piety? My [Tame] can force anyone to do anything. What if they take Khut in the night, hold a blade to her throat and demand I do their bidding? What if they deem me too dangerous to be allowed to live?"

“You want to be a Knight. Just like you want the Wolfman. You are just afraid."

Curse their insights, “The last time I eschewed caution, I was a captive of the Skaven for three months. I swore that I had learned my lesson and would not make that mistake again!"

The Gryphon recoiled, and Raphael finally mastered himself. It was true. He was in what could be called a romantic relationship with Khut despite her tsundere tendencies. But, he wanted more. He wanted to share such affection with his Bitch as well. Hell, thinking on it, he would hardly be opposed to becoming closer to his Mate and Slave either. More than Pets – a proper Monster Harem all his own. Every bit as degenerate as the World God had hoped for.

He placed a hand on the unscuffed shoulder of the Mount, “Look, Talion… I honestly would if I could. You have your rough edges. You're terribly vain. Demanding. Overly dramatic. And you think that the whole world revolves around you. Of every Gryphon in the flight, you've caused me the most trouble." They gave a slight squark of indignation, and Raphael continued, “But you're not without your good points. I do admire your nobility. You can be rather sweet when you're pressed. And you're right – you are the most handsome of your clutch. If it were possible, I would make you my Pet. But it simply cannot be done."

“You are no more dangerous than an Enchantment Mage. If you fear discovery, just scribble a Rune onto your belly with ink and your deception is complete."

Raphael blinked, “…oh"

It was true. [Tame] had similar functionalities to Enchantment Magic, and while being much narrower in scope and much more potent, it was ultimately comparable. Enough so to pass himself off as a Mage. It seemed insane that such a simple solution had not come to mind already, through months of regretfully turning down the offers of employment from the Knights, “Shit. It really is that easy, isn't it?"

“It is. You do not see it because you overthink everything. You jump to conclusions because you need the world to make sense. I have learned your character as well." The Gryphon looked quite pleased with himself, “You would if you could, you said. I hold you to your word, Beastmaster. For your reason for refusing me is now moot."

Raphael released their shoulder, and exhaled. He was infuriated, but only at himself. He then smiled, and laughed uproariously, purging himself of every worry in the clamour of his laughter, “Fine!" His mirth was infectious enough for Talion to express his own glee in the dancing of his talons against the stone, “It's not as if I do not want you. If I were to become a Knight and choose a mount, then it of all the flight, it would be you."

“Good. You shall be my Servant from this day forth. You may now use your [Tame]."

“I shall be your Master from this day forth." His tone was stern, and the Gryphon yielded as they always did when their conceitedness was opposed. Raphael invoked his Apex Ability, “[Tame]."

“Yes. The Master that grooms me, polishes my barding, feeds and waters me, flies me, parades me, and tends to me in every way that I require. You are a Servant." Talion gave no indication of the effect of this power, already subservient to the Beastmaster, he clad that domestication in his own brand of loftiness, “Are you going to make me your hen now?"

“What!?"

Talion was skittish in the wake of that exclamation, and quickly explained, “The Wolfman talks to himself when you leave him behind in the parade grounds. You mate with all of your Pets. The whole flight thinks you a deviant."

He came to place his head in his hands, moaning into the cavern, “Damn it, Alp…"

The Gryphon pawed again at the stone, “I am interested in mating. You shall instruct me, Servant."

“I shall, shall I?" His arms folded.

“…I'm sorry." Talion bowed his head, “Please teach me mating, Master."

He was quiet for some time, mulling things over. This was not how Raphael imagined his day would go when he got up this morning. Though, he could already envision the eyes of the World God upon him. After how they had toyed with him in the revelation of Kara's egg, he wondered if it would strike a blow in vengeance against the lecherous old man if he were to decline Talion's request. But as he looked upon the handsome Gryphon, eyes filled with curiosity, he could not help but sigh and respond, “I will. [Stay]. I wish to know better what is mine."

It was his own ritual to fully assess what belonged to him, and while he had known the measure of Talion for months now, to give voice to every inch of them would be how the Beastmaster took ownership of his new Mount. Raphael began, “It may be cliché to say, but I like your eyes. This yellow-amber. Your face is so expressive, you're quite intimidating looking when you're tearing a carcass, but you can look so soft as well." He placed his hand at the side of their broad beak, “Like muted gold, with a slight curvature downwards, it's quite impressive."

“I am not merely 'quite impressive'. I am very impressive."

He brushed along their cheek, “The feathers here are a chocolate colour, soft and downy, and sweep back into ears that are not quite feline, but close." His fingers sank into their neck, “The mantle feathers here are expansive like a mane. There's enough for my arm to vanish up to the elbow if I reach in. Though, your peytral normally keeps it all pressed down." Raphael considered the shining silver of the armoured breastplate on the ground beside his satchel, “I suppose I'll have a Knight-Mark of my own to inscribe that with soon enough. It's the Gryphon equivalent of a collar."

“You will select a design and colours to compliment me, Servant."

Raphael narrowed his eyes, and the Mount swallowed, “I am sorry, Master. Please continue."

“You get carried away quickly. After I scold you, you're back at it a moment later." The hubris of Gryphons was truly irredeemable, but he didn't hate it, “The shoulder is muscled and around level with my own. You're not a dissimilar build to Kara on all fours." As he found the joint, he unbuckled their harness, the straps which held fast to their chest falling free to dangle. And his hands traced lower, “Feather gives way to scale. The same muted gold colour of your beak. Forelimbs are like those of a hawk from the forearm down, three massive talons and a hallux claw to the rear for balance. You're quite dexterous with these, I know."

He returned to the shoulder, and now brushed against the wing joint, “I remember being surprised at how unreasonably large the wings of a Gryphon are. I suppose they have to be for you to take to the sky with an armoured rider. I can really feel a sense of power from them."

“I am very strong." Talion interrupted again.

“The pinion feathers are broader and longer, a little stiffer. You're forever making demands of me to apply that oil you like to make them sleek. They're wide, connective down your flanks, with a darker tone of brown atop them and that softer chocolate colour at the underside." His fingers passed through them, though they remained furled tightly, trapping warmth at the Gryphon's sides. Here as well was placed the remainder of the light barding, a short crupper at each side to offer some protection of their soft spots beneath the wings and at the belly. Raphael released the plates from the harness, setting them aside and letting the straps dangle.

He then set a hand upon their back, “The training saddle begins between the shoulder blades. You really have to get used to arranging yourself on these things as there's no space on the sides like a horse due to the wings." The Beastmaster lifted it, every remaining strap pulled away along with it, and Talion was at last free of his every trapping, “Haunches are feline and quite narrow. There's less musculature towards the rear, more sleekness. I suppose strength would be wasted at this end."

Raphael trailed his fingers from feather to fur, “It doesn't feel too different to the feathers, as soft as the facial fuzz and the same shade. Legs are digitigrade and end in paws that don't look anywhere near as threatening as the talons." He gripped the base of their tail, cutting off the complaint he knew was coming so that he could continue, “Tail is about as thick as my arm, and very long, almost as much as I am tall. It ends in a tuft of feathers. I know it's useful for helping to adjust motion in flight, but I always found the appearance of them to be rather cute."

That was a word too far, “I am not cute. I am handsome."

“Yes, you are." Raphael confirmed their indignation, and from their side he traced the heft of their belly and back, his hand brushing something soft, “No, I want to see this rather than just feel. Lay [Down] on your side."

Talion acquiesced, but not without complaint, “I shall be displeased if you use [Tame] to make me do anything shameful. I am a proud and noble Gryphon Mount."

“A proud and noble Gryphon Mount which asked his Master if he would make him a hen." The Beastmaster quicky countered, “What do you imagine that entails?"

Reclining comfortably on his side, there was much easier access to their underside, but as Raphael took a seat on the stone next to them, he simply let his palm rest upon their stomach, letting them speak, “I have only a vague idea of how males mate with other males. It is not something that we Gryphons do." He looked at the man squarely, “So I hope you appreciate this. For a male to consent to be a hen for another male is an act of lowering oneself to a position beneath them. And no Gryphon believes themselves beneath anyone. I have never heard of a male which has done so."

“Yes, I'm honoured." Raphael sounded somewhat smug, and his Mount did not miss that.

“You should be. I am a particularly high-quality specimen, the most handsome of all my clutch. My physical attributes are more desirable to my kind than traits of speed or power. I could have my pick of the hens if I so desired!" A grateful pat stifled their indignation, and Talion continued, “I imagine that you are going to place your male parts beneath my tail and breed me. And then I shall bear an egg."

“…What?"

“That is how it works, is it not?"

Raphael closed his eyes, not entirely sure if the Gryphon was playing some sort of joke on him. But when he opened them to meet their gaze, he saw that they were earnest, “How can you be so well informed on everything else, but have such a misunderstanding about sex?"

The haughty tone returned, “Well, it is vulgar, yes? Gryphons do not discuss such topics. Mating is done in the utmost privacy under the guidance of instinct. Where is the misunderstanding? The hen bears an egg after being bred. This I know."

“If you were a female, yes." The changes to his body wrought by [Tame]'s advancement would overcome the species barrier, after all, “But you lack the necessary anatomy." Raphael thought carefully, explaining as best he could, “For two males… well, I think it varies. For some species it's about hierarchy or dominance. Sex can be weaponised to control or humiliate. For some it's affection. The result of a great romance. Or simply pleasure. It's as broad and varied as any other relationship. Sometimes there is love, sometimes it is simply need, sometimes lust, sometimes want."

“That was frustratingly vague. Are you sure you know what mating is?" The Gryphon appeared unamused, “Enough of other species. What is mating to you? Why do you breed your male Pets if this is futile?"

Now there was a question, “The circumstances have always been different. But ultimately, in every case… Sex has been how I have taken possession of my Pets." It felt strange to phrase it that way, “I suppose that's why [Tame] has evolved the way that it has."

“So, you wish to mate with me because you wish to possess me." The Gryphon now puffed up, looking rather self-satisfied, “Will I become like the Wolfman?"

“Well, that's down to you." Raphael strokes their fur idly, “Any other feelings aside, Alp raises his tail for me to reinforce the pack dynamic. He likes to be dominated and is my subservient Bitch." His hand slipped between their hindlegs, the fine fur of a broad sheathe fine against his fingers, “Kara fucks to breed and to affirm her position as my Mate. Whenever I spend too much time with the others, she always comes to assert herself, even though she's already laden with an egg."

His fingers roamed lower, finding large, heated orbs, “There's a little stirring in this sheathe. The fur here is very fine, very light, and very warm. Big balls, but they're very tight to the body." Raphael toyed with them as he continued, “For Khut, it's about affection. She's never been able to trust anyone, and was so touch-starved before becoming my Wife. She likes the intimacy of being held." The firmness beneath his touch grew, “And for Bravura, it's how he defines his value. My Slave has become an indispensable sextoy for me, and I think it means something to him that I can call him priceless."

The Gryphon gave a slight squark, “My male parts are starting to show, but my tail is flicking up, too. I don't understand why."

Raphael continued to toy with an emerging maleness, tapered pink growing between his fingers, “It is because you understand that I am going to make you my hen. I'm going to take possession of you."

“Yes…" Talion swallowed, “I want to be your Mount. I want to be your hen."

“Why?"

His talons grasped at nothing, opening and closing as his maleness slowly grew, the hand of his Master the first thing to ever touch it, “It feels right to bow to you…" Their breath came in a whistle of need, “You're the only one that makes me apologise. The only one that I can acknowledge." They twisted to watch the human work, “If my oath is to you, then I want you to have all of me. I want to give you everything. My beak and my talons at your service. My back to ride. My body. And my heart as well."

The Gryphon composed himself, quickly adding, “I am noble and handsome! Finest of my clutch! My willingness to become your hen is the finest compliment that you could receive in ten lifetimes! You would do well to hear my oath and accept! I pledge my righteous and virtuous self, body and mind, heart and soul, to the Beastmaster Raphael! What say you, Servant!?"

It was difficult to tell how much of that desperate confession was inspired by the hand on his cock. He had ever endeavoured to earn the loyalty and affection of his Pets beyond the compulsion of [Tame], and it was meaningful to hear such words, “Still Servant despite all that?" He met the declaration with the sonorous tone it deserved, meeting the eyes of his Mount and responding in a manner he knew they would approve of, “I accept, and shall endeavour to be worthy of such a peerless Gryphon." The man nodded his head, and then set to his task, “Now, quiet yourself for a moment. Let me see what I'm working with here."

He ran his fingers upwards from the stretched sheathe, “I was expecting something feline, but this is far from it. Perfectly smooth from base to tip, no spines at all. The head is very narrow, tapered to a point. About a foot in length, light pink, and there's no shortage of precum leaking here." He caught a bead on his thumb, a downward stroke slickening the shaft, “The fluid is particularly watery, and there's certainly a lot. It's just leaking constantly."

“Ah – That feels –“ The Gryphon squarked, responding to this small stimulation.

Raphael continued to slicken the shaft, dousing the perfectly smooth flesh with every gentle downwards stroke of his hand, “You're certainly reactive. I can hear your breaths whistling when you draw in air. Your limbs are scraping at the stone, and your tail is going wild behind me." His motions gradually slowed, and then ceased.

“Why did you stop?" Talion whined, “It felt like something wonderful was about to happen!"

The Beastmaster repositioned himself, setting his shoulder to their topmost hind leg and heaving it up to better situate himself between the legs of the Gryphon laying on their side, “Because every time I do this with Alp I have to frame it as an act of domination. And Bravura's little strawberry is so small that I've hardly anything to work with. This cock belongs to me, so I'm going to enjoy it. Every inch of you is mine, and I intend to enjoy making you my hen."

He nuzzled close, taking in a slow breath, “I've gotten quite used to the scent of Gryphon, but this is still potent." The North Gatehouse had within the bounds of the garrison a heated fountain of filtered water, cycled by a rudimentary engine which ran almost constantly. The creatures bathed twice a day, sometimes more – for they lacked the capacity to otherwise cleanse their rear felines halves and had quite the obsession with grooming. A handsome Gryphon was more desirable than a strong or fast one, just as Talion had said. Despite this, their natural musk was quite heady.

His tongue found the seam of their sheathe and drew upwards, adding saliva to their watery precum and allowing the Beastmaster to savour the taste of his mount, “Bitter. And there's a sharpness, almost medicinal." He lowered himself, jostling their orbs as his tongue draped fine fur slickened by their copious fluids. Each was around the size of a golf ball, but he allowed that comment to pass him by, instead drawing one fully into his mouth and applying a gentle pressure. The heat of it was fantastic, and there was a slight pulse as more precum leaked from their tapered tip. With very little give in an undercarriage which kept their equipment tight to their body, there was some effort to fully set his mouth about an orb determined to retreat upwards, but he persevered.

This was not a common activity of Raphael, and he lacked the finesse of his Felyne Slave. Rather than focus on the Gryphon's pleasure, he instead amused himself, toying with them, enjoying the texture and the feeling upon his tongue, the desperate squark above him, and the throb of need. Slowly, he shifted to the other, continuing the treatment, while setting his hand back to their shaft and stroking at a languid pace. There was no way that was fitting in his mouth. He'd need a muzzle like Alp and a throat like Bravura to manage it. But his hands were smooth and dexterous, and these furred orbs his game to play.

Slowly, their sack slackened, compelled to elasticity by his efforts, and he drew the entirety of it into his mouth, his cheeks bulged, and the pressure pushed to the verge of where pleasure threatened to become discomfort. He could sense their burgeoning orgasm, their first ever taste of ecstasy. But as it rose, and the Gryphon moaned desperately, he applied more pressure and slowed the motion of his hands. Killing the sensation, only to then slowly rebuild it.

Raphael was in no hurry. The feel of those twitching orbs within his jaws was strangely empowering. It allowed him to gauge the pleasure of the male he was working on, [Tame] immobilising his Mount to prevent any bucking into his hands. With complete control over the Gryphon, he took his time toying with them, an edging torture with no sign of end, the load churning within those orbs ever gaining potency, the ceiling of the pleasure that was to come pushed higher and higher.

“Please-“ Talion begged, but did not know what he was begging for. With beak and claw, he had no capacity to tend to his own pleasure outside of mating, this new sensation entirely alien to him. But, Raphael still had more to give.

He released cock and orbs, pulling away from their sheathe and holding his Mount's hindlegs spread, the topmost lifted by his shoulder from their position laying on their side, and his eyes set upon an untouched undertail. Pink and puckered inwards, it too belonged to him. Raphael spoke an internal thanks to the hygienic nature of Gryphons, and to whoever had installed those powerful jets on the garrison fountain they used to bathe.

Hit tongue traced the rim and then breached it, meagre though it was when set against a creature comparable in scale to Kara. There was no taste save that of Gryphon musk, bitter and sharp, and Raphael revelled in the twitch of their body which even [Tame] could not suppress. Their core was the most profound heat, and he explored freely beneath a tail raised high as Talion panted out his need.

An untended cock now leaked precum freely from its tapered tip onto the soft fur of their belly, but Raphael left them untouched. After spending so long edging them, he knew the Gryphon would be close, and he wanted their very first orgasm to be one experienced from pleasure suitable for a hen. He worked to loosen their virginal tightness, assaulting them with an unceasing pressure, until at last, the Gryphon could take no more.

“Something's – It's – I'm –“ He could not find the proclamation of his orgasm, abandoning words to unleash a feral screech. Raphael was forced to unleash his own exclamation in a vigorous yell of his own to counter the pain in his ears, pulling back to watch his efforts bear fruit. Those great furred orbs pulsed with a terrific vigour, their undertail twitched open and closed to reveal a pink prize, and their tapered cock erupted in the first apex of pleasure of their life.

The cumshot was prodigious, even in comparison to some of the more ludicrous outcomes of this nonsense world that Raphael had witnessed thus far. The first ropes of Gryphon essence launched with enough force to stripe their own beak, much of the mess absorbed into their fluffed up mantle of feathers. Thick and pearlescent, nothing like the watery precum they'd been leaking onto their stomach, the Gryphon painted his chest while keening desperately, what would be violent thrashing suppressed into body-spasms by the immobilisation of the [Stay] command.

It was some time before the pleasure petered out, the Gryphon left with the chest heaving, their leg remaining lifted to display their underside, twitching hole and spent balls, a cock still hard against their belly. They tried to recover enough to speak, and after a few false starts found their voice again, able to add the small movements of their body to trills and chirps to create language that Raphael could interpret, “That was…" He searched for words and found none. With a deep breath, steeling themselves, reaching for Gryphon nobility, “You shall give me more." Raphael raised an eyebrow, “Please. More, please. I want to be your hen. Even if I can't have an egg, you shall breed me." Another pause, “Please, breed me."

It was almost endearing, really. Raphael drew himself to his feet, discarding his cloak and shirt to reveal his pale body. Khut had taken to grooming him, and his facial hair was now short, even, and somewhat stylish. The light snowfall had accumulated in his dark hair and melted, leaving it a little damp, yet the Ring of Warmth upon his finger stayed the bite of cold. He stepped from his armoured trousers, and knelt beside his mount, setting his maleness alongside theirs.

[Tame] had done quite the number on Raphael, the Apex Ability now so entwined with sex, its power had granted him more than chimeric seed able to impregnate any female Monster as if he were a male of their species. He'd grown substantially, with a manhood now equal in size to that of the Gryphon, his orbs scaled similarly and ever potent with seed. He considered it about the apex of what a human of his stature could bear without it simply being silly, and now was glad of it – for he was appropriately proportioned for even large sized creatures like Deathclaws and Gryphons. Though lamented that he could no longer sheathe himself to the hilt in Khut and Bravura.

His hand swept over damp feathers, trailing through the mess of thick Gryphon essence, until a good portion of their cumshot accumulated on his palm. He set it beneath their tail, rocking their body slightly to the side to create an upward cant, slickening their insides with their own orgasm. He gave his order, “[Roll] onto your back. Use your wings to make a platform. I want those quadrupedal limbs all helpless in the air while I make you my hen."

Raphael grinned, enjoying the superiority of his position as they quickly followed his order, eagerness writ across their face. But as he positioned himself at their entrance, he paused, “Ask me again to fuck you."

The Gryphon swallowed, suppressing their haughtiness, “Please mate with me."

The human shook his head, “Use the word. Fuck."

“I…" Talion looked conflicted, “It would be vulgar."

“We're about to do something vulgar. I just edged you from dawn until now – and the sun is overhead." Light shone down from the opening above them, “I'm going to fuck you, Talion. I'm going to have you as my hen until I'm spent. But before I do, I want you to say it." He thought on their statement at the start of this, “Because I think you will become like the Wolfman. You've tasted pleasure, and when you fly me out of here, you'll do so a changed Gryphon - addicted to your Master's cock, raising your tail and enticing me at every opportunity." He looked down at them, enjoying himself, “You said the whole flight are aware I fuck my Pets thanks to Alp's big mouth. When you bow to me as a Knight, they're all going to know that you're not only my Mount, but my hen as well. So, let's hear it. Nice and vulgar. Just this once."

The Gryphon twisted and squirmed, but the promise of pleasure was too great. He had already made his oath, he had already given everything to his Master. His pride intervened, “Servant!" Talion forced out the word, “You will… fuck me. You will fuck your hen… until you're done… please."

It was impossible for Talion to know quite what he was in for. The advancement of [Tame] had granted Raphael such sexual stamina and virility that withstanding 'fucking until he was done' was going to prove quite the titanic effort for the Gryphon. But the Beastmaster's lusts were enflamed just as highly as those of his Mount, and he would not leave this place unsated. Slowly, he applied his weight, penetrating an opening slackened by his careful attentions, and slickened by Gryphon essence. About two thirds of the way in, Talion jolted, a sharp intake of breath rocking them, and their cock straining once more as they came again in the wake of a single thrust.

Raphael took advantage of their pleasure to hilt himself, holding there and revelling in the emanations of clenching pleasure against the length of his cock. They may be a virgin, but to achieve orgasm in the wake of singular penetration, and so soon after their last one confirmed his suspicions. This male would be every inch the submissive slut, as much of an unapologetic thirsty bottom desperate for his cock as the other two. And he would fuck them until that fact was engraved upon their soul. Property of the Beastmaster Raphael. His Mount. His hen. His.

“Ah – I – Please," Again, Talion struggled to vocalise his demands, his Master setting out with a slow and steady pace to acclimatise him to this new sensation. He felt so completely vulnerable, on his back with his belly and his throat exposed, his wings pinned beneath him and his limbs and beak useless. The Beastmaster was taking possession of him, more thoroughly than the commands of [Tame], more completely than the words of his oath. He was being bent to subservience by their presence, dominated into a domesticated submission.

Dreams of parading outside the Grand Cathedral were less alluring with every thrust, replaced by the desire to submit himself to this pleasure, devote himself to his Master. But it was not the power of an Apex Ability which compelled this. It was his own desires, his own secret need. To have his nobility acknowledged by a hundred faceless people, to have his handsomeness revered by his whole flight – it paled in comparison to having these things recognised by the only person that his Gryphon ego could bend for, the one man that he respected in all the world. The only one that he could place above himself.

No wonder the Wolfman was in love with him.

A third orgasm came, and the pleasure was no less intense than the first. It rolled through his body, from his core to his extremities, milking the first load from his Master as Raphael buried his seed deep. He looked up to the swaying window of sky, his mind racing. Would he need to compete with the other Pets? Did they have some sort of timetable for who would mate with Master that day? His Gryphon mind could not acknowledge them as peers. They were rivals, and he would be greatest in the affections of the Beastmaster. Most noble, most handsome, most useful, his favourite, to fly with and to groom and to parade, and to keep sawing away at the spot inside him which made his pawtoes curl and his talons twitch and his cock erupt.

His restrained trills were becoming unashamed moans of pleasure, reverberating from the centre of his chest. All composure was lost, drool from his beak forming a line against his cheek, his avian tongue clicking as he tried to swallow. A single spur of the moment decision had led him to this point, but he was as committed as he would have been had he pondered it for months. Talk of sex was taboo amongst his kin, but his Master would rectify that lack of knowledge. He would be taught the ways of pleasure, and he would be an attentive student. He would watch the submission of the Wolfman and the affection of the Skaven and the servitude of the Felyne and the possessiveness of the Deathclaw, and he would learn. How best to please his Master, how best to entice him.

If there was to be a harem, then he would be chief amongst its numbers!

The battery of his senses with unrestrained pleasure continued, and slowly, other thoughts began to intrude. His head was filled with a fog of desire, and that window of sky high above him blurred. His Master put another load beneath his tail, and on every backstroke his essence oozed out to wet his hindquarters. A fourth orgasm pulsed out over his stomach, potent in sensation but weak in volume. Perhaps his Master would need more than him alone to tend to his needs after all. His consciousness was wavering, but the Beastmaster was still going strong, parting his feline hindlegs and plundering his undertail with reckless abandon as the loosening of his insides and slick of cum was enough for Raphael to use his hen freely now.

It was hard to find breath, never mind words. It hurt to cum, but he didn't want to stop, the cock sawing over that spot of pleasure inside him making his whole body feel like it was floating. The world was turning as white as the falling snow. He realised that he needed them all, a whole harem of Monsters to satisfy the desires of the Beastmaster. But he could not lose to any of them. He had one weapon left, one final sentence before his consciousness was obliterated by pleasure – and he had little doubt that Raphael would continue to pound him until he was finished whether he was awake or not, just as he had promised. He took a desperate breath, another orgasm building, and as it erupted over his stomach, his aching balls clenched tight, he managed to speak the words, his declaration of war, the thing that he would say before any of his rivals, the race he would win.

“I love you."

It was dusk by the time Raphael considered himself sated, a good portion of his cumshots through the hours of rut sprayed wantonly over the unconscious body of his Mount, basting fur and feathers with his essence. He finally staggered back to admire his handiwork, and on que a voice came from behind, “My, that is quite a sight."

The World God used the butt of his staff to flick Raphael his armoured trousers, the old man looking rather jovial, “You know, I'm a little disappointed that you're so suspicious of my Church, you know? I handpicked the Pontiff myself."

Raphael groaned inwardly, “You're hardly the peak of trustworthiness, World God. You've been guiding me all this time for something, and you won't tell me at all what it is."

“Well, what if I did? Would that be how this God purchases a little faith, hmm?" Their voice was singsong with glee, “You'll soon be a Knight of the Holy City. But I've got grander plans for you. At the very least I can tell you the next step since you've been so obedient."

The cloaked figure bent down to observe the unconscious Gryphon for a moment, seeming quite amused, “I got a little distracted last time and forgot to give my review! The Felyne was an unexpected purchase, and it was killing me keeping the news about your egg in! As for this time..." He tapped his staff against the ground as he strode to the centre of the hollow, “I liked when you forced a Gryphon to say a vulgar word. That's the point where he really gave up everything!"

Raphael shook his head, enduring their prancing, “Not when they pointed out I was an idiot that could have been disguising my Apex Ability as Enchantment Magic this whole time?"

“Oh, that goes without saying. Though, there is a balance to be struck. A lot of distrust of Mages, even in the Holy City. You're bad until proven good if you're a Magic User!"

The Beastmaster almost pointed out that the World God could probably do something about that, or set himself to fixing any of the other things wrong with this world, but imagined that the answer would likely infuriate him, whatever it was, “…About this next step, then?"

The World God spread his arms wide, “You are in luck, Knight Raphael! Glory shall be yours! For as we speak the Order are narrowing down the location of your quarry. I imagine that the entire Knighthood will be dispatched on the mission by the end of the month. Yes, the enemy must be found and subdued. Brought to heel. Defeated. Tamed, perhaps? It's what your training up until this point has led you too! Your first great battle in this 'nonsense world'!"

They spin on the spot and raise their staff high, “The Black Fiend of the North is coming! The Sin of Wrath shall be upon you! She is coming to destroy my Holy City, and you are going to stop her! Manticore, Consumed by Evocation, is your foe!"

~ SevenWingedDragon ~

Note: Thanks to User NewKing for suggesting an X-Com Viper. If people want a second season of this, then I'll be looking at that one first if I can fit it. Thanks to User DragoonMan10 for supporting the Gryphon as the star of this chapter. User AaAAaAaAaAAAaaHhHhhHhh who has become something of a regular in these thanks sections. And User NightSound for giving me an excellent creature to use for the finale of the arc: Manticore.

Thanks as always to everyone that's dropped a fave, like, watch, comment, or has even just read this and enjoyed it. I always like to credit the comments of the previous chapter in each new one - as it's the feedback, encouragement, and suggestions that come from there that shape this story going forward. Alp exists because of User TrailsToRide with backup from User NightSound. We have Bravura from a suggestion by User NewKing. User TrailsToRide also suggested the Gryphon, giving us Talion. And of course, User NightSound suggested the Manticore for the finale. I want to include as much as I can, and even if they don't end up as a Pet, I'll include suggestions in the background if possible at the very least.

Next up is Interlude II where I want to focus on Kara and Khut this time, though imagine that will expand the moment I start typing. Then it's just Part VI, and we're done. Well, unless you want more. I have a good idea for that X-Com Viper and a whole second arc in mind. But I'll ask that question more properly when this one is finished. Thank You everyone for reading. Writing this story has really been helping me work through some things, and I appreciate you all.

Have a most excellent day.