FSE

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Chapter 13

Midday overtook the city of Struport, heralded by the trumpeting sounds of the seagulls that called it home. They wafted along the pleasing scents of the butchers and bakers, sweeping down to beg or take what they could find. Sounds of the city were swallowed by the desperate shouts and cries of the weary masses of travelers at the docks. Their cacophony of noise was only broken by the piercing shouts of the crews that had remained to take upon themselves passengers. The refugees shuffled along, willing to pay whatever fee was presented to them, glimmers of hope flicking in their eyes, each having bags larger than the last.

These sailors were heading south of course, away from the northern waters where pirates were said to be gathering. It was to the foggy mountains they plotted their courses, thoughts drifting to the multitude of ports that would not see the likes of this undead for quite some time. To them however this was good enough, able to look to the skies once more and not be filled with dread.

One wagon trundled along the streets packed with people, filled to the brim with boxes, bags and sacks of supplies. It jostled and jangled with metal, dozens of baubles and knick knacks for the Lumarians being held prisoner. At it’s head were two dire wolves of grey and white, their fur thick as the trees of the silver pines. Asterion held the reins that adorned them in a firm grip, almost like his gaze upon the snow swept cobblestone. His keen eyes shifted ever carefully to the grey scaled kobold at his side, wrapped thick in simple clay robes. The lizard had shoved elk fur muffs over his ears, and wore gloves at least twice his size on his claws. Azzik was his name, and while not as skilled in the clerical arts that the bull had himself, he was at least able to weave together a healing spell or two.

“How is your mate doing?” Asterion grunted, eyes traveling back to the road.

“Feku?” Responded the kobold, his voice muffled as he buried his snout into his robes, “Fine, better than fine. Ever since you brought me back…Thanks for that by the way.”

“As was my duty.”

“Are you alright? You look awfully cold.” Azzik gestured to the minotaur’s bare fur, and the lone furred cloak that he wore. “Even with all that fur.”

“We are hearty people.” He grunted back, “Back in Braestair, the mountains were quite cold. I’d be more worried about your own situation.” He huffed, gesturing to how the kobold winced with the blowing of the wind. “Perhaps you don’t have enough coverings?”

“And turn me into a ball?” The kobold’s snout wrinkled, “No thanks.”

“Why brave the cold if you’re cold blooded? You could go sit with Tenzin and Feku in the back.”

A look of realization washed over him, clearly the lizard had not thought of that. Despite this, he flared his nostrils, “Someone had to keep you company, can’t have you out here alone!”

The wolves were guided down a forked street, one where the smell of freshly baking bread sneaked it’s way into their nostrils. Ears perked as the kobold’s stomach grumbled.

“Why Feku wants to stay is beyond me…I hate the cold.”

He smirked at the that, she had come quite far since when they’d first met. Was hard to believe she was a small voiced lizard, tending to the whims of a crazed monster not that long ago. “Your mate has a courageous heart of one three times her size. You should consider yourself lucky she not look for someone of meeting her stature.” He gestured with a flick of his tail to the wagon behind them, where laughter between the ilbir and Feku could be heard.

“Tenzin?” Azzik chuckled, holding his robes tight, “He’s a big softy.” Then he groaned, “Although he already said, he wants a lover with more cushion for his pushin.”

The bull laughed at that, so much that it shook his stomach. “Smart cat, the strength of his people rivals that of my kins.”

“I’m sure he would say it surpasses it.”

“That yet remains to be seen.”

“Hopefully somewhere warmer.” Azzik hissed as the wind returned to batter his scales.

“If the cold troubles you so much little one, board one of those ships and leave.”

He blinked, avoiding the minotaur’s gaze. “Can’t do that. Feku wants to stay and help others, you want to stay.”

“Yes, but battle is made for ones such as I.” He boasted, “You and your mate are small and frail, ill-suited for the fires of the battlefield.”

“But you just said she was-“

“Courageous yes.” He countered, “But fit for the field? No.”

“I’m just saying it would be easier if we headed south. I blame you for all this courage and adventure going through her head.”

“If not for that you’d still be dead.” Mused the bull, “I’d think carefully of what to the say to those that made it possible.”

Azzik squeaked in alarm, seeing the stern look in the minotaur’s eyes. “Of course.” He stuttered, “I am eternally grateful. But to be fair, if not for heroics and courage, I’d have still been alive.”

“Not so sure.” Growled the warrior, reminded how they’d rescued Lyndis from the clutches of the fiends known as the many eyed. “You’d have slain Lyndis, a comrade in arms. I’d have cut you down for aiding our enemy.”

He gulped, “Then thank the spirits I tried to help you! But come on, where will adventure find us next? Should we sail to Azmeth, where its snow covered most of the year? Or should we head to frozen tundra of Owath?”

“You wish to see Azmeth?” Tenzin poked his head from the back, eyes of excitement in the ilbir’s pale blue eyes. Fluffy grey ears perked up with interest as the muscular warrior planted himself by the smaller lizard. When Azzik tried to slink away he found himself secured by a firm arm, pulled against a bulwark of muscle and warm fur containing spots like that of a snow l. “Imagine it little lizard, to wander the great fields of ice and admire the giant spires of pines, growing to the heavens themselves. We could hunt the great dire caribou, enjoy the ales of my people. You can marvel at the red colors of the northern lights as they streak across a starlit sky. I’d consider it an honor little one to take you to the land of my kin.”

“He was just saying how much he loved the snow.” Snorted Asterion, hiding his smirk.

Struggling, the kobold could not free himself. “Tenzin, take no offense here. But if your home always has snow, it sounds like a giant pile of-“

The ilbir hadn’t blinked, only a pure look of delight upon his face.

“Delight that I can’t wait to see.” Finished Azzik with a groan, getting pulled ever tighter into the man’s chest.

“Delightful! We can go visit my home, see the mountains of Tai whereas a child I climbed. Oh how you’ll love the ice frogs of the lake of anchala, they have a mating call that’s catchy! Just wait until you gaze upon my village, where can take part in the life ceremonies.” He chuckled in a lewd way, giving the kobold a nudge, “Even regal you with tales of how I was conceived!”

Ever did the stories continue to fill the air, steady as the clacking of the wagon’s wheels upon the cobblestone. Concealed within were Azzik’s exaggerated groans and squirms, wondering how exactly he’d gotten into this predicament. Feku slipped by him with gentle face nuzzle, leaving her mate to his fate before taking a seat beside Asterion, her scales the brightest green the bull had ever seen.

“We there yet?” She beamed up to the warrior, sporting thick earmuffs, a giant fur coat and gloves that seemed twice her size.

“If we were there, would I not fetch you?” Asterion replied, glaring daggers at a group of teens that had crossed the street at the last moment, almost getting trampled by their wolves. “Run faster young humans! We almost had you that time!”

They didn’t look back, scampering away with color drained faces.

“Why you yell?”

“They need to get better.” He huffed, gripping the reins tighter. “Next time I’ll increase our pace.”

“Won’t you hit them?” Gasped Feku in horror.

“Only if they don’t improve.” He grunted, “Quite the incentive.”

She crossed her arms, furrowing her scaled brow. Though she tried to look rightful cross, the bull could not help but look to her as a tantrum throwing child. This of course made the fire behind her purple eyes burn ever brighter, he scales starting to shift to red with each passing breath. She looked away in a huff, “Why you even come? Bother Arcturus instead.”

“Arcturus was busy playing with gryphons and mages.” He replied, “I figured it better to lend my talents elsewhere.”

“Like threatening children in streets?”

“Feeding the soldiers that came here.” He gestured to the wagon behind them, “Enough food, supplies and toys to keep them entertained and fed while the bureaucracy figures out what to do with them.”

“Toys? When did I add toys?” She looked back, tail twitching below her jacket. “They can’t have let them have those­-“

“For the gryphons.” He huffed, “Before they start humping everything in sight.”

“So…I should toss toys out? Sounds like fun!” Her scales started to develop dark purple spots.

“You’re as bad as the blue feathered fiend. You’ll scar the prudish humans.” Though internally he chuckled at the idea of those uptight humans running about as though some great travesty had been committed within their walls. Wide eyed, some might not be able to look away, it just might be worth it to encourage them. His tail flicked during the ensuing silence, reminding him that their help was needed. “Where did you get the supplies anyway.”

“I stealed them up!” Feku beamed, clapping her gloves together.

Eyes widened over the casualness over such a statement. The bull shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I hope that when you mean-“

She scoffed, “I not stealing food silly! I summon it up very good!”

“Is that so?” Tenzin rose a brow, finally drifting from his riveting conversation with Azzik over the right angle to please an ilbir woman. “Then why do all the crates have stamped upon them, ‘Property of Fred Applebottom, don’t for any reason give to public, ever.”

There was silence as Feku stopped dead, her scales shifting a brief white. “Oh that?” She finally laughed nervously, “I forget! He give us a gift for all things we do, goodness of his heart! I look him in eye and say please, he help!”

The ilbir’s whiskers wiggled as he tapped his chin, “Is this the same halfling that was selling seats to ships that were already filled to the brim? Also sold his brother Dom’s seat for coin?”

Again, there was a dead moment as Feku’s claw rested upon the air. Asterion almost chuckled in amusement as her brain no doubt scrambled for any sort of answer. Anything to avoid admitting she’d swiped the goods.

“Then it holiday miracle!” She exclaimed with a laugh, “Both youse too skeptical for own good!”

“Or rightfully concerned our kobold has a sticky pair of claws.” Huffed Asterion, giving her a steeled look.

“Sticky claws?” She procured her claw from a glove, brandishing it before his eyes, “I wash, no sticky! Hey, watch road, we no need you running over more children.”

“It was only the one time.” He groaned, letting this little slight stand. He supposed in the grand scheme of things, soldiers were far more deserving than that coin grubbing halfling. Some might see it as some form of justice, it would do the city no good for their defenders to be ailing and without the energy to fight. He chortled under his breath as Tenzin now bombarded the kobold with a multitude of questions over this miracle of hers, gobbling up every answer that she gave, never catching on that it was getting ever more obvious she’d stolen the entire shipment. The bull just hoped that the sapphire guardians who guarded the prisoners didn’t look too closely, or if they did, disliked that particular halfling as most of the people who met him.

When they arrived back to the Lumarian encampment, the guards, recognizing Asterion from earlier, were more than happy to part ways and let him inside. After all, it seemed as though they were being saved the job of handing out all the supplies to those within. However, they did wish to sneak a peak through what they were giving to them. It was here that Asterion sighed, ready to agree with whatever bizarre story about Fred’s generosity Feku was connecting even now.

“So, this was all offered by him?” A guardian asked, sifting through the stuffed animals, sacks of food and water skins.

“I heard it from the kobolds myself!” Tenzin chuckled with a brassy voice, procuring the two lizards before the skeptical guardians. “Biggest heart! Who would have thought such a miracle possible?”

“Uh-huh.” The woman looked to her fellow guardians, getting a series of shrugs, and hiding of snickers. “Well, carry on then. We’ll be sure to send word to thank him for his generosity.”

“Thank you.” Asterion bowed his head with a grunt. As they passed through the gates they were inundated with whispers and laughs over the greatness on display from the halfling. “It would appear as though his reputation proceeds us.”

“Asterion.” Tenzin chuckled, punching the warrior’s shoulder. “That’s no way to speak about such a generous man! I clearly misjudged him when I first met him. It must be celebrated!”

“I know!” Azzik exclaimed, “You can show him around your village! Maybe a personal demonstration on your people’s love making!”

The ilbir’s eyes swelled with delight, ears perking up. “What a good idea my friend!” He grabbed Azzik up, trapping the kobold in the greatest of bearhugs. “I knew I liked you!”

“Help” Sputtered the kobold, unable to free himself.

Their arrival reached the ears of the guardians before they’d even caught sight of them. As the wagon rolled up to the gates, they were already standing at attention, a dozen or so people clad in chains and wearing stern faces. Asterion bid them welcome and greeted them in kind, putting to rest those that had concern of a few more Lumarians bringing supplies to the others in their care. With promises of keeping the peace and being on good behavior they were guided in.

“Who would have thought Applebottom was such a kind fellow?” One guard laughed as they padded their way in.

Tenzin slid up beside him, sweeping a trunk of an arm around the man’s shoulders and laughing deep in his throat. “It would seem good spirit has gripped many this day, we all can’t be so fortunate.”

“That so?” The bearded fellow responded, seemingly captivated with the sabertooth man, cheeks slightly reddening.

“Tenzin.” Rumbled the ilbir with a smile.

“George.”

“Nice to meet you Geo-“

Asterion pushed Tenzin along, breaking up whatever this was supposed to be. As the larger cat growled, ears pinned, the bull met such resistance with blunt force. “You can get to flirting later ilbir. For now we have a job to do.”

“I merely introduced myself minotaur. It is the polite thing to do.”

“I know of which deity you pray to. You and the gryphons share many things in common. It’s never just introducing yourself.”

Without a word Tenzin huffed, traversing his way back to the wagon before insisting to this George that he would be back. “Hopefully with less minotaur interruptions!” To the now red-faced guard he gave a wink.

Inside the atmosphere was one of cheer, gryphon, minotaur and human’s eyes lighting up the moment they realized the guests had brought with them supplies. Eager faces flocked to them, surrounding the group in a cacophony of thanks and disbelief that their list of requests had been answered so swiftly. Asterion could hardly answer one question before being dragged into the next as he assisted in cracking open the dozen or so containers within the wagon.

Inside were boxes of lunches, wrapped thick with ribbons of various cloth. They contained dried meats, rice and vegetables that no doubt this halfling had been burying away for himself. With this were waterskins filled to the brim, balls of animal hide to kick around, blankets and other various things to keep the relieved warriors warm. Even tea was discovered soon after. At first, they scrambled over each other to be the first one to receive these welcome gifts, feathers bumping against furs until order was restored by a commanding voice.

“Come on men, we’re not a mass of disorganized orcs.” Skywing cut through the noise, sweeping his sharpened gaze across the soldiers before him. At a flick of his tail they organized themselves, one at a time to receive their gifts with a bow.

“They had the spirit of a hoard of bone splitters!” Tenzin remarked, “Claws and teeth scrambling for a bit of meat, dangerous, but can be tamed with a firm hand and will.” The warrior sighed as he bowed his head and handed out several boxes of meals and water skins, “The battles were grand.”

“You sound more and more of one of my people Tenzin.” The cleric asked, amusement in his eyes. “Sure Parunga is the cleric your people admire and not korde?”

“Blame it on the winter months. Come winter, the feeling takes hold within my kin, twists and flicks our ears.” Tenzin closed his eyes, taking a gentle sniff of the air. His whiskers twitched, a calmness overtaking him. “Even this far south the call can be heard. The bones ache for what is to come, blood ready to simmer and burn.”

“Not if Feku heeds Arcturus’ words. She’ll be off the next batch of boats heading for dwarven lands. Safe from all this fighting.” He searched through the crowd for Feku, she and her mate happily handing out food, her scales a bright green. “She may have courage and spirit, but battle is not for kinds such as hers. All that would await her would be death.”

“Bah, you ruin the mood bull.” He frowned, taking out his frustration in shoving a box into an outstretched claw. The gryphon getting offered it nearly was shoved to the ground by the ilbir’s strength. “But I suppose such is the price for a life debt.” His ears splayed, “Destined to always be on the cusp of battle. Never in the thick of it.”

The bull’s tail flicked over the cloud of dismay that now gripped the ilbir. He’d seen such things in the younger bulls back home, not yet haven cut their teeth for battle. Other times he saw it in the elderly, who could no longer even hold an axe. He pitied them of course, the rightful way for a person to die was on the field of war, not by old age finally catching them. “You are not a follower of korde, so take heart in that your ward is to be protected. Who knows, perhaps she’ll throw her head stubbornly into danger, then you can unleash all your pent-up aggression then.”

He caressed his furry chin, “Gods help the foe who finds themselves in my path.”

“Korde can only hope.” His eyes flicked to the group of minotaur that found themselves among the soldiers. All of them bore different marks of various clans, decorations around their horns ever apparent. Each of them gathered and muttered to themselves, occasionally glancing in his direction. Asterion’s heart soured over such looks, each of them contained the vitriol he came to expect in regards to him from his people.

“How come your people don’t come to eat. You’d think one of their kin giving food would be a grand sight!” Tenzin scooped up a stack of boxed meals and practically jogged over to the minotaurs, before Asterion could even stop him.

Gritting his teeth, he pursued, the ilbir most likely meant well. He knew not of the troubled past that he shared between the clans, how he’d been stripped of his clan’s name and meant to die. He only managed to stop him moments before Tenzin had even crossed words with the pack of warriors.

“Why do you hold me back?” Tenzin turned with a growl and huff. The ilbir’s warrior instincts readying his stance. “Is there a reason you don’t wish for me to feed them?”

“Yes.” Snorted the bull, flicking his tail. “And no, I wish to not-“

“Look who it is, Asterion, the honorless.” One of the minotaurs called, a hazelnut colored one with piercing brown eyes. His horns were curved and pointed, decorated with dark navy ink, names of places and enemies that he’d done battle with. This bulwark of muscle stood taller than Asterion himself, clad in nothing but scattered bits of cloth and a loincloth.

“Judan.” Hissed Asterion as the air between them heated. “I only brought food to the warriors here, so that they might not be weakened when battle finds them.”

“How concerned of you, to find yourself here. Fitting I suppose to coddle the weak. You’re the last person I expected to see within this city.” Judan crossed his thick arms, a cruel smirk about his muzzle. “Why paladin Arcturus allows you to follow him is beyond me. Does he not know he has an honorless dog among him?”

“Careful what you say minotaur.” Tenzin put down his meals carefully, before striding to glare down upon the minotaur. “My friend here only wished to bring you meals, you tread on dangerous ground.”

“You don’t intimidate me ilbir.” Snorted Judan, his chest swelling as he sized up the snow leopard before him. He nodded in approval, “You have the spirit of a proper warrior, but you should lose the company of this swine.” He gestured to Asterion with a huff, “His presence brings nothing but shame and dishonor.”

“You must have your head rattled. Asterion is a great warrior.” Tenzin growled, “Though his size is wanting to myself, and his muscles less pronounced, I’ve seen him fight creatures that would turn the stomach of any sane creature.” He thrust a digit into the minotaur’s chest. “I’d watch myself when referring to one like that with 'dishonor’.”

“Tenzin, enough.” Asterion barked, his voice hard. “I can fight my own battles. This one is right in what he says.”

“Wha-“

“I was dishonored and brought great shame, but those days are behind me now.” He strode to stand proudly before Judan, the air between them threatening to ignite. “I am not the same minotaur as before.”

“Is that so?” Sneered the larger bull, “For I see the same swine that I had the pleasure of dismissing upon the plains of the sword years ago. You expect us to believe you’ve done the impossible? Performed a miracle to rid yourself of your dishonor?” He turned to the other minotaur, voice ever raising. “Those of you who don’t know the story of Asterion, this hotak in his rage, slaughtered a whole village of woman and children. Here he stands, insisting that he’s recovered from such a dishonorable deed.” Judan turned, fists clenched, growling, “I believe you dishonor yourself with another lie.”

“I don’t lie Judan!” He shoved the bull, blood starting to boil. “I ventured into the heart of the forest of despair. Faced down the Emerald lady, conquered the vaults of Entis itself. Traveled deep into the oceans and did battle with an ancient abolyth before finally earning my prize. Korde honored me with the chance to bring back the lives I took, I gave them the choice and they chose not to. I have restored my honor in his eyes.” He was panting, nostrils flaring as he said each and every deserved word. But still the bull before him was not to be swayed.

“Talk, talk, talk. You think your titles and actions can redeem what you’ve done? Look brothers.” The older bull sneered, holding his arms wide. “Our little bull thinks he can wash away what he’s done. He claims that the attempt washed away the blood, but those he wronged refused him! Even now he clouds himself, believing his honor restored when it remains out of his grasp.” He turned to Asterion, eyes burning, “Instead of ending your life in the honerable way, you’ve tried to weasel your way out of it.” With a snort he shoved Asterion back, “You stink of human and elf, you’ve even started to think like them. Face it Asterion, you’re without a clan, your blood is spoiled, you are and will always be a good for nothing hotak.”

Quick as lightning Asterion struck, his very blood demanding he do so. The elder bull was sprawled on the ground as the cleric stood over him, fists clenched tight.

“So, the hotak still has some fight in him.” Judan wiped his snout free of blood, getting back to his hooves. As others tried to help him he warded them away, a cruel smirk about his lips. “I’ll handle him myself, it’s about time someone put him down.” The warrior undid what remained of his clothing, even ridding himself of his loincloth. Bare before the elements he stood, jaw tight. “You’ve chosen death hotak. The honorless are not meant to strike the honored.”

“Then it fits that there is not one before me.” He replied with a growl, shoving off his cloak and removing his own loin cloth. To others this might have looked strange, but them, such a dual was to only be them, nothing to stop what was to come.

Lumarians were shoved and pushed back, Minotaurs easily making space for the two warriors staring each other down. With the ring created they stood tall, a wall of muscle and crossed arms. Humans and gryphons on the exterior watched with curiosity as Asterion and Judan slowly circled one another.

With ever step, Asterion prepared himself, nostrils flaring as his blood burned with need. Years of dishonor, guilt, and regret, Judan had the honor of standing in for his final hurdle. Minotaur like him would be around till the end of his days, he’d show them that he was no weakling to mock. Sparks flew as they neared, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Asterion answered in kind, leaping upon the other like a beast possessed.

His fists came like that of the gods themselves, fueled by years of rage. Dull smacks reverberated through the air as the minotaur’s strikes crashed into Judan. Those without a minotaur’s durability would have found their bones snapped, but the elder bull was merely pressed backwards into the arms of his warriors. As blood trickled down his muzzle he had not the concern of a lesser man, he instead had the cruel gleam of murderous intent.

With a roar Judan launched himself back upon his attacker, his strength ever apparent in his strikes. He slammed into Asterion’s side, crashed into his blocks, steadily moving the cleric across the ring to the other side.

“Break it up, break it up! We’re not to fight in here!” Came Skywing’s demand from outside the ring, but it fell upon deaf ears. The minotaur were not listening. “Don’t make me break that up!”

“You will never be one of us again Asterion. You should have died.” Judan cracked Asterion over the skull and tossed him to the ground.

Stars burst in the cleric’s eyes as the warrior descended upon him, arm wrapping firmly around his throat. He squirmed and choked as Judan squeezed, hooves clacking against the stone. Was this how he was going to meet his end? As his lungs burned he could hear Skywing already start to gather his gryphons, ready to tear the minotaur wall down.

“Goodbye hotak.” Judan hissed as blood bubbled out of the corner of Asterion’s snout.

No, this would not be his end. With a sudden thrash, Asterion slammed his head back into his opponent’s, knocking the elder bull off focus. With this opening he shifted around, making Judan now the one at his mercy. Grunting he slammed the warrior to the ground, arms firmly wrapped around his skull, knees dug like swords into his back.

He pinned the bull beneath his bulk, propping up his head with his mighty strength. Even though his foe kicked and squirmed, Asterion held firm and began to tug. All his misery and hatred was unleashed with every pop of the bull’s bones, tendons starting to stretch to their max. Bloodlust called to the warrior, but he held back, “Yield!” He demanded, holding the elder bull firm, “Yield or you die.”

“Mercy has no place here.” Grunted Judan, “You reek of human.”

“So be it.” Growled Asterion, tugging upon the warrior’s skull once more.

“That’s it, tear this down.” Skywing screeched from the wall of muscle, he and his gryphons casting aside the minotaur with a flurry of feathers and beaks. Those that resisted found themselves pinned; sharpened talons planted firmly on their chests. The tiger gryphon shot straight for Asterion with blinding speed, knocking over the cleric with a great roar. They tumbled to the snow with a series of grunts, Asterion trying to get hold of the fierce catbird.

“Now, I will not have you killing my men.” Threatened the gryphon as he managed to get the cleric beneath him, talons drawing blood through the minotaur’s thick fur. Within the pale eyes of the gryphon were no room for questions, this beast was a killer. “Arcturus’ friend or no, I will end you where you stand.”

“I believe you.” He huffed, staring the gryphon down.

“What has gotten into your thick skull? We are allies against the undead!”

“You don’t understand our ways gryphon. He dishonored me before the others, I had to defend myself. That is the way.”

“You don’t think I’ve worked with Minotaur before?” Skywing was not to be swayed, “Give me a reason bull and I shall take you down, Arcturus’ friend or no.”

He huffed in amusement as the gryphon shouted out orders to the others, insisting that there would be no more fighting among them. He had to admit, the bird had spirit. Probably why Arcturus found him in his company. Despite this, his attentions shifted to the minotaurs, where Judan’s bloody form was being hefted up from the ground.

The warrior was shoving off any form of aid, snarling and gnashing his teeth. He was clearly embarrassed by such an event, losing to a dishonored minotaur? The proud bull would never live this down. With eyes of daggers, he turned to Asterion, his look alone ready to throttle the last bit of life out of him. However, the same could not be said for the kin around him, for what distain for Asterion they had was dulled, replaced with a flicker of respect within their eyes.

** * * * * * * *

“Alright, let’s get another one down.” Nivra called out, twirling her fingers, “Krotos, get down from the rafters, so we can have another go!”

The gryphon was perched high above their reach, glaring down daggers at the all too amused magician. “I refuse.” He chirped, wiggling as if trying to fluff his half-grown feathers. “This is nothing but gryphon abuse plain and simple. I’ve put up with this since morning, just because I’m stuck here doesn’t mean I’m here for your amusement!”

“You’re not stuck here.” Countered the magician, “You can leave whenever you wish.”

“Looking like this? Are you insane woman?”

“For letting you talk to me in such a manner?”

Krotos gave an indignant squawk, rolling his eyes, “Sorry, are you insane, your majesty?”

She clicked her tongue, “And this isn’t for some sort of amusement, you’re here until we can accurately duplicate a solution to Dreadflame’s draconic fear aura. Are you not willing to make the sacrifice for your country?”

“If this is how they treat their gryphons your majesty, I’m considering turning traitor.”

“Very well.” She clapped her hands, eyeing one of the couches, where she spied the silver tuft tail of her black gryphon lover hiding behind it. “Voidy, be a dear and would you capture and execute that rebellious scum?”

The gryphon in question peered out, his silver lined beak only showing. “Why, is the testing over?” Out came a single eye to look the mage up and down, “Cause I’m not sure how many spells I can endure.”

“See?” Krotos squawked, “Even your lover turns against you! Rise up with me Softpaws, throw off the shackles of your mate!”

Nivra groaned as Arcturus chuckled to himself, shaking her head with arms on her hips. “Look, all of you. I know enduring these tests is grueling, but are required if we stand any chance.”

“How come you’re not having your spells cast on you huh? It’s only fair!”

“I’m the one casting the fear.” She growled, “Unless you can do it?”

“Hmmpf. Give me a bit and I can think of something scary.”

“Like you without any feathers?”

“For a queen, you’re terrible at talking to your citizens you know.”

“Only when they complain and end such complaints with you woman.”

He opened and closed his beak, ears splaying. “Very well. But have you considered the emotional damage? Look at Voidwing, poor dears shivering in his paws!”

“That was only three times ago.” The white pawed gryphon chirped, “I mean, the last two were not that bad.”

“You shredded the pillows.” He gestured to a stack of feathers in the corner, complete with the tattered remains of what had been pillows. “And proceeded to leap around shattering glass and covering Axton in his invisible fluid.”

“Still here.” Axton’s voice came from a chair by the potions themselves, a spell book laid out on the desk. “Still not visible though.”

“Sorry Axton.” Voidwing’s ears splayed, “I’m sure it will wear off in a few hours.”

“Gryphons, are we not honor bound to try and solve this predicament.” Arcturus cleared his throat, drawing the ire of his gryphon companions. “Come now, I’m sure after a quick rest we can get back to it. If not, the citizens of Struport will pay for our lack of courage.”

“Here here.” Nivra nodded.

Krotos narrowed his gaze as Voidwing grumbled something under his breath, “Easy for you to say Arcturus, each spell on you has failed to affect you! I’ve had to endure spiders, undead, overly controlling mothers, being landed on by eagles, and lastly spending time at a cloister with a sect of gryphons that forbade sex!”

“Why are you afraid of being landed on by eagles?” Arcturus asked with a raised brow.

“Because they look weird Arcturus, is that really the point? I’m saying you’ve not walked a mile in my paws!”

The knight nodded, closing his lips, not reminding the gryphon that he, had the features of the creatures he thought looked weird.

Nivra meandered about the study, eyes traveling about the half-eaten plates of lunch, the empty tankards of tea. What was she missing? Was it just another enchantment? Her typical spells lacked anything that had any affect on the spell that Florimel had showed her. When asked, he was positive the spell was an exact replica of the dragon’s fear aura.

Krotos clacked his beak, talons digging into the wood beneath him, “And how do we know this spell is even the same? I’m saying that wizard is a buffoon.”

“I’m not a baboon!” Florimel shouted from beyond the room, currently pressing a pipe to his lips. He blew and bubbles came fumbling out, blinking several different colors before winking out.

“Buffoon!”

“Oh.” He crossed his arms, “Quite possibly, excuse me fellows, I’m off to gather some pinch of holly. Do try and not burn the place down!” Upon his exit the pillows that had been shredded reformed, perfectly piled and pristine, as new as the day they’d been stitched.

“And explain how he can be a buffoon with talents such as that?” Arcturus’ arms crossed, a smirk upon his lips.

“One can be an idiot and still have skills.” Huffed the gryphon.

“Which is why I volunteer Krotos for more of these tests.” Voidwing chirped, laying down by Arcturus and offering his head for some pets.

“Traitor!” Squawked the blue gryph, snapping his beak towards his now getting pet kin, “This is what I get when Nivra promises me a good time!”

“Well, that’s your fault for insinuating something lewd.” Replied the princess, plucking up her staff leaning upon the wall. Its silvery sheen flickered in the lantern light, the dragon holding an amber spherical gem upon its head cool to the touch. “Now are you going to do your duty as my subject, or must I get you down with a spell?”

“I’d like to see you go and try!”

She groaned and gestured to Arcturus before striding to a table to pour herself another round of tea. “Arcturus here isn’t complaining about the tests here, why should you?”

Arcturus shifted in his seat, aware of the piercing look now being given to him by the gryphon above.

“He doesn’t get an opinion because he hasn’t been affected! Look at him, sitting there in his comfy chair, it’s all just a barrel of laughs to him!”

“I don’t think having to live through your feathers falling off is-“

“Shut your beak Arcturus, unless its to give us a reason why you’re unaffected.”

The man shrugged, “I’m, just as bamboozled as you are. You’d think after all the spells, I’d have at least run-in fright at least once.” He wiggled a hand before his eyes, “Not even a risen hair.”

“Lucky you.” Krotos clacked his beak, talons dragging through the rafter’s wood. “Perhaps you should take his blood or something, run some tests! Clearly whatever is going on with him is what you want to investigate!”

Blood? Arcturus recoiled at the thought of getting poked or cut open. The gleam in Nivra’s eye wasn’t helping matters either. When she swung around him there was clearly amusement, she was absolutely loving this. “Must we?”

“Krotos, as blusterous and colorful as he is with his speech, has a point.” She sipped at her tea, sitting beside Arcturus, searching the man’s face up and down. “Something about you is special, seemingly immune. It’s a marvel really, a mystery.” A smile spread about her face, “Isn’t this exciting!”

“Yes!” Krotos squawked, “Anything to stop testing on us gryphons!”

“Seconded.” Nodded Voidwing. “Or at least restrict them only to Krotos.”

“HEY! We need to stick together!”

“Then why did you snatch my lunch when I wasn’t looking?”

“For jumping on my tail!”

The black gryphon huffed and averted his head, eyes closed. “Well, I already told you it’s instinct, at this point it’s your fault.”

“OW!” Arcturus shouted, suddenly finding a needle shoved into his arm. “What the ruddy hell Nivra?”

“That’s what the blood hell your majesty.” She corrected, starting to extract some blood. “It’s only a little bit, don’t be like a baby. Don’t you contend with spells, swishing blades, unruly gryphons and dragons on a daily basis?”

“Yes, but they’re not needles.” He hissed, “At least have the decency to warn me next time.”

“I did, if you were listening. Not my fault you turn your head to any gryphon that saunters on by.”

“That’s not true.” He protested.

“Tell that to Skywing.” Snickered Krotos from above.

“Oi, blue bird. Come down here and we can get a few more tests on you!”

Krotos splayed his ears, “No thank you very much, seems like you got it handled.”

With the needle retracted, Arcturus performed a quick lay on hands. The tiny wound was soon closed, what blood she’d extracted renewed itself. Around the bit of flesh he rubbed as the mage retreated to a row of vials, adding the blood with a label of his name. “Anything else?”

“Now that you mention it-“ She plucked a hair from his head.

“Hey! What did we just go over?”

“Such a baby, it’s amazing that the dragon fights with you.” She smirked, dunking the hair into his blood. “I’m sure they’ll prove fruitful.”

“One can only hope.”

“Oh, before I forget, Krotos, Voidwing, I’m going to need some blood and fur.”

Indignant squawks filled the hall as both the gryphons soon expressed their dismissal of the idea. Voidwing even joined Krotos on the rafters above, the wood straining to support the two gryphons. They clacked their beaks at any attempt to coax them down, the princess’ good will seemingly faded away.

“Come now Voidwing, I love you.”

“Not enough to poke me.” Replied the gryphon with a narrowed gaze.

“Come now, Arcturus took it, it’s only a small prick.”

“That’s why he didn’t like it.” Krotos snickered, nudging his associate. “Only likes the big gryphon and dragon pricks he does.”

The paladin rolled his eyes, already starting to roll his hand for a spell. He focused on the words of power from the book Veledar gave him, letting the warmth inside him flow towards the gryphon. He spoke loudly, with the voice of commander, like there was no questions to be had. “Krotos, drop.”

The gryphon’s ears splayed; his eyes went wide. As if he were caught in a trance, he stepped off the rafters, plummeting to the ground and landing in the pile of fluffy pillows. Instantly he pulled back his head with a confused chirp, wondering how he’d gotten here.

“Thanks Arcturus.” Nivra replied, sticking the gryphon in his shoulder.

“Hey!” He clacked his beak before her face, nearly clamping down upon it. “I would have come down.”

“Right.” She replied sarcastically, “Just like I could always count on you to bathe your feathers in ink.”

Without an answer he was forced to endure her taking of his blood, ending with a plucking of a newly grown feather. Grumbling the blue catbird returned to his perch to glare and mutter under his breath about his unfair treatment. Voidwing complied with the request without a fuss but closed his eyes before his love assured him of his safety and took what she required.

“Could you settle down, the lot of you?” Florimel returned from his venture, the old mage caressing his forehead. He sat before one of the many tables, a whip in hand as he beat the contents of a metal bowl. “I’m trying to make iced cream.”

“And do you think that’s what you should be doing?” Hissed Krotos from above, wagging a half naked wing at him. “Instead of growing my feathers?”

“They’re growing.” Huffed the old man, “You’re just upset at the speed of it!”

“I know what I am!”

“But what Nivra here is doing is sound, Arcturus could be immune for plenty of reasons. Could be his vows, his mind, his clothes by gods sake. Perhaps its his ability to take a dragon wherever they find him.”

“Mostly in the bedroom.” Said Krotos with a grin as Arcturus glared at him. “What, its true? Why pretend like its not!”

“That might well be!”

“Really old man?” Laughed the gryphon, nearly falling off his perch, “I think I might die if you suggest the solution to this dragonfear is to be fucked by a dragon.”

“It might not be the act of copulating you twit.” Nivra growled as she added the vials to her rack, “Maybe the magic from the bond, a spell he’s casting, who knows, it could very well be his sperm for all we know.”

“Dragon cum!”

“Can we not prattle on about what I do or not do in the bedroom?” Arcturus growled, glossing over how his cheeks burned. “Perhaps my immunity is a lack of feathers.”

“Could be.” Florimel mused, stroking his beard. “Krotos, would you go without your feathers for a few more-“

“NO! MONSTERS….MONSTERS THE LOT OF YOU!” Squawked Krotos, grabbing a stale biscuit, hurling it at the magician.

“Thank you most kindly!” He caught the projectile, casually munching upon it as he returned to his work.

Arcturus stood, stretching his arms wide. “Should we be concerned that krotos wants to kill you?”

“Nonsense, I got a free meal out of it!” He waggled his biscuit, “Krotos, happen to have a roast up there?”

“Fuck you old man!”

“Damn.” Florimel furrowed his brow, eyes gleaming with disappointment, “Got my hopes up, then dashed them. Damned me.”

“So…Are we done?” Voidwing rose to all fours, tentatively approaching Nivra with splayed ears.

“Don’t go back to her Voidwing, it’s all a trap! She’s just going to run more tests!” Krotos shouted, “Save yourself!”

As the group bickered and talked about gryphon abuse, Arcturus found himself called to the window, one made by Florimel that day. There he stood, gazing out to the city proper, searching across the grey-blue rooftops. In the distance he was certain he heard a roar, drowning out the chatter of his companions. When he focused upon it there was a ringing, his heart pounding in his chest. Before his eyes flashed the dying gold dragon from the previous eve, and the sliver of delight that he felt within. Not for just bringing the dragon down, but knowing he’d hurt Dreadflame, thwarted his plans, made him suffer. Even now he wished to see that bastard writhe in agony for what he’d done, tormented till the end of his days.

He snapped out of it with a groan, his head throbbing. What was this all about? Veledar’s words meant to soothe him were repeated, but each one seemed nothing more than a distraction. Perhaps it was the long day of tests and spells, listening to chirps of complaints? Either way, he offered his thanks for the day and headed out, serenaded with questions about why he was able to leave unmolested.

“Because he has all his fur!” Voidwing’s snarky reply came from behind the thick door, followed by an indignant squawk so loud that Arcturus was sure it would leave his ear drums thrumming for hours.

Into the streets he did venture, wondering if he should have done so on his own. After all, who knew what other dastardly fiends were awaiting to see him done in? The paladin felt solace in the weapon at his hip, knowing it would not let him down. That didn’t mean he could be careless however, he made sure to only take routes filled with people, doubting that whoever wished to strike at him would do so with so many of their people about.

During such time his mind was still adrift, lost into the grey clouds themselves. So many things in which to contend with, the undead, assassins, this increased fear aura that dreadflame possessed. How were they going to manage it all? The clouds said nothing to ease his mind, but thoughts of his draconic love did ease the pain somewhat. The warmth he’d provide with snuggling up close, rumbling like tumbling stones as they enjoyed a crackling fire. A wing would drape around them as they’d share a tender kiss, possibly spend the time making out with one another. Of course that would lead to other things, of lovers and passionate times.

He pulled a lone coin from his purse as a lone wing swept over him, fluttering his furred cloak. The last bit of coin he had glinted in the dwindling light, a platinum coin with a gryphon stamped upon it. How odd he thought, that where months ago these had seemed endless, now finding himself in a foreign land, trying to protect people that seemed hellbent to refuse it. He sighed and stashed the metal in his coinpurse, wondering if he should just take the orb and be off. He had been practicing resisting charms and the like from piercing his mind, he’d be the best candidate to resist this orb as well. Again, the cobblestone streets and clouds had little answers, doing nothing more than having the knight long for the comfort and company of Veledar.

Figuring a gift was in order for his draconic mate, he paid visit to the merchant district upon his way to Fremra’s keep. It was a bustling place, filled with numerous people and races, the buildings above adorned with banners of every sort. Arcturus chuckled at their presence, reminded of the story of which was told to him about Veledar’s venture to Deet. What to give the red scales love of his life? His mind bristled with possibilities, only for the answer to come to him as stumbled upon a pastry shop.

Within they had rows upon rows of sweet delicacies, of fruit and sugared things entrance the beak of any gryphon or man. The wolven within that ran the establishment was sweet and kind, going on about how she and her family were to leave within the coming weeks. She had a series of cookies that drew the paladin’s eye, shaped like a dragon with different colored icing. He found one adorned in red, clearly taking the colors of his mate.

“What of this one?” He chuckled, picking it out.

“Oh, my son saw a red dragon the other day, couldn’t shut up about it.” She smiled.

Wrapped in a tiny box with a crimson bow, Arcturus made his way back to the snow dusted streets, a smile upon his face. Worries about the coming days and if it were right to keep the others here with his duty were put off for now, he had a night of warm comfort and a lover’s touch to look forward to. It was here that he bumped into an onyx guardian, the black and silver tabard of the knight fluttering in the breeze.

“Sorry about that.” Arcturus replied, noting the energy crossbow held by the man.

“Arcturus, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of a ruby guardian. As well as conspiracy to bring to ruin to Struport.”

“What?” He blurted in alarm, head spinning as he spied several more of this guard’s fellows taking positions scattered around the street. “This is madness, I’ve done nothing-“ It was as if a bull had slammed into his chest, he’d been shot by the stun setting of the energy crossbow. He stumbled back, stars bursting before his eyes, ears ringing as the world seemed to shift and move with every breath. Panic raced through him as he reached for his weapon, but his movements sluggish. In return he received a smattering of crossbow fire, his body forced to do some strange dance before collapsing to the cobblestone.

“Quick, get him in irons and off the streets!” One man yelled to the others. “Before the bloody dragon comes looking for him. We don’t want to be around should he be poking his snout.”

“Veledar.” Arcturus moaned to the winds before darkness took him.

** *** **

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