Chapter: 1

Far within the lands of Lumara rests a feathered gem. One of no equal within their empire that spans across the shores of Sethera and beyond. Songs have been sung about the wonderous halls of Whitedell and its free spirted citizens. Even gravity is unable to chain the gryphons who call this place their home.

This city rests around the dragon’s crown shore, visited by many from across the stretches of the kingdom. Some say it is the second capital of Lumara, equally as important as Entis itself in maintaining their people’s image.

Mountains rose to kiss the sky, patrolled by airship and the watchful eye of their gryphon allies. The summer’s tease the soul with their gentle caress, autumn is a beauty untold to witness. Creatures young and old whisper that it could be a paradise to spend your days.

Upon one mountain sat an estate of great prestige, its granite pillars were expertly woven by dwarven hands, enchanted by elven spells and inscribed with the history of how gryphon kind had united itself with the human kingdoms. Spires draped in pure gold that sparkled like diamonds in the rising morning sun; gryphons in the distance announced it’s coming, a welcomed crow typical to these lands. With it came the stirring fire to coax the sheepish beast, many a catbird shaking off their sleepy nature.

Olas was one of these gryphons, residing in those mighty halls. He was one with no measure, a lord who held dominion over vast quantities of these lands. His upper half resembled that of an eagle, with mahogany scaled forelegs, his hands consisting of four digits tipped with shadowy colored talons; they currently found themselves clutching tight a crimson sheet of satin. An iron shaded beak was half open as he took in the morning air, eyes shut, still lost in a pleased dream. Soft warbles came in a steady pace matching the rise and fall of his chest, where cotton feathers ruffled. From those came feathers of rust, the edges lined with black along his neck, wing arms, cheeks, and ear tips. His lower half was that of a lion, his fur the color of a dove. His hind legs kicked as his dream continued, no doubt the lord lost within some grand chase. His tail flicked back and forth; its tip adorned with the same rust feathers that covered the rest of him.

“Time to wake up my lordship!” A sizable gryphon with almond feathers and fur chirped, pulling back the brown drapes that clung to a massive oval window. In came light to scare away the shadows.

Golden light lovingly caressed his feathers, pinning back his rust-colored ears tipped with black. As consciousness returned to him, a dull ache pounded within his skull. He flopped to his back with a groan, a blackened talon scratching at his cottony underside. His tail swished casually between his legs. “Olivia what time is it?”

“Time for the great Lord-Wizard Olas to rise his furry bum and get sorted.” Olivia replied, snapping her obsidian beak. Her eyes rolled as she sauntered to her master’s side, his higher station over her seemingly forgotten as she continued with her casual speech. “Will I have to roll you out of bed like last time? Cause I will.”

He waggled a talon at her as his beak creaked open to a great morning yawn. “I’m quite capable of doing it myself Olivia. Now if you’d be a dear and give me five more minutes, I’ve a terrible headache.”

The female gryphon ruffled her feathers, sliding through the bottles, “Well no wonder, I’ll say you swallowed enough to kill one of your horses!”

“In correct.” His ears stitched themselves to his neck, “Gryphons can hold vast amounts of booze within them. I must have measured it precisely.” He lurched as morning sickness grabbed hold of him, coiling his body as Olivia chuckled.

“Of course you did my lordship.” She raised up and placed two talons upon him as he clenched his gingerbread-colored eyes shut, “But no sleeping on me!”

With a squawk of surprise Olas was rolled right out of bed, collapsing to the floor with a thud and pained groan. “I’m up, I’m up!” He coughed; his ache not only contained to his head. He held his head, “Was that needed?”

“Both of us know the answer to that.” She sauntered across the room towards the hall, flicking her tail feathers. “Now freshen up and get down for breakfast. With any luck we can get you sorted before your lovely wife gets going again.”

Olas was left to stumble to all fours, his entire being tingling, sore. Questions circulated what he’d gotten up to last night. He groaned as it was a blur. The gryphon blinked his weary eyes, as he fluffed wings, exposing the cotton-colored ones that spread forth from his rust ones like the tide. The morning light warmed his fur, outside he could hear the songs of birds chirping away with out a care.

His room came into focus, wiping away the fog of slumber. Paintings adorned the wall of himself, his daughter Luna right by his side, her red-orange eyes filled with so much delight as he held the once tiny gryphet. Beside the pair of happy gryphons was a statue of cold steel, the white and black furred visage of his wife Isadora. Even captured in paint, the gold jewelry she had wrapped around her foreplegs did little to hide the cold exuding from each angle.

Olas averted his gaze, unable to bear looking upon her for another moment. He stumbled past shelves of magical books he called his own, personal research into the realms of the arcane. Some were of history gathered from Sethera and beyond, of which fascinated his mind for many a night. Those that were scattered formed a trail to a mighty bookcase, one that stretched high to the sprawling ceiling above, where a crystal chandelier did rest.

Into his bathroom he stretched, slipping into a porcelain lined cast-iron tub that had already been drawn for him. Warm water teased his flesh, soaking feather, and fur as he slathered himself with pink soapy bubbles. For minutes he hummed to himself, drifting away, scrubbing at every inch that he could reach. Once done he slunk, dripping to the floor. Thankfully, a wizard such as he was already prepared for this. Planting himself onto his haunches his hand swished through the air as he chirped the words of draconic power. Magic energy bent to his will, lavender light twisting over him like threads of twine, casting away the moisture in the blink of an eye.

Bone dry, the gryphon stretched, admiring every bit of himself. There he spotted his plump sheath the same color of his chest, nestled behind them two balls each one large enough to utterly dominate a human’s palm. Between the pair was a thin line of black fur, a perfect addition if he so said himself. He warbled, there was not a single spot left of soapy or water to mar his pristine image. Then began the long task of preening his feathers, one at the time with his beak; long flowing motions accompanied with a pleasing, muffled warble. Even though it had been many hours since, the  taste of the alcohol from the previous eve made him gag. Was that really how he’d spent his night? Nursing one of many bottles like some drunken toddler? He recalled spending at first with his books and a terrible sense of loneliness overtaking him. He whimpered softly as he went over his feathers, realizing he’d drowned that feeling one gulp after the other.

Once presentable, he slunk back his crown feathers, giving himself a pleased chirp. Anyone who gazed upon this sight would find themselves in the presence of a reserved, prideful gryphon lord, not see the unease that twisted beneath his fur. He slipped into his regal attire soon after, bangles around his forepaws engraved with arcane runes. Onto his hinds he attached silk stockings, complete with golden stitching. Around his neck to complete the image went a raised collar, regal and fluffy to make the nobles of Entis jealous, to complete the image was a harness complete with pouches to store the many reagents that one such as he used for his spells. The leather was pressed with stars across it’s black.

Fastening the last buckle it fit him well, not biting at his fur like a wolf. Last thing he did was grab his spellbook, an old relic passed down within his flight. On it’s cover was an embroidered dragon, one of gold and its wings outstretched. He gave a heavy sigh as he creaked it open and planted himself down upon his belly, tracing over spells and movements that had been written down with magical ink by previous magicians who’d owned the book. He recited the words of power, the feeling of their magic ruffling his feathers and sinking into the marrow of his bones. With every one he completed a sense of warmth flooded his veins. This was how wizards prepared their spells each morning, reciting the ones they’d need all the way through until the final activation phrase. These were unleashed whenever one needed, accompanied with the proper reagents and motions. It took an hour to finish preparing all the spells that he might dare. As a wizard grew in power their mind would be open to store an ever-growing list of spells, ranging in power and utility. Inexperienced mages if they tried to prepare the ones he did, would find it quite a life-threatening experience. the number and power of the ones he prepared would be life threatening.

He sauntered into the halls with a bounce in his hind paws, the practice as invigorating as a cup of mintaonok, a minotaur coffee four times stronger than human’s. For any commoner his home would be a place of great beauty, one to rival the king of Entis itself. The vast halls could fit multiple gryphons striding abreast, their wings able to stretch to full length. Statues filled the alcoves as he passed, of previous generations that once called this place home. Each one had a look of pride captured on their stoic beaks, their blank eyes following any who walked among them.  Light filtered in from the numerous windows, capturing a welcoming sense to the tilted floors. The air smelled of gryphon, lavender and soap, courtesy of the help in keeping this place pristine.

He strolled passed the library, the study, the place in which he practiced his combat stances and engaged in exercise. This was a path he’d endured so many times that he could accomplish it with his eyes closed. As he neared the descending staircase, his body trembled, ears pinned. He caught the familiar grating chirps of his wife, chatting away wistfully  to one of her noble friends.

She was on her haunches, hinds clothed in elegant brown attire with gold stitching. Across every feather was a glint of light, like diamonds that caught the sunlight. Within her grasp was a crystal ball, allowing the gryphoness to contact whoever had a similar device. To her credit she seemed in a good mood, squawking away at some party she might plan, but all of it died as Olas started to descend the stairs.

She snapped to him; red eyes with orange irises sharper than a dragon’s claws. White feathers on her top half ruffled as her brow narrowed, upsetting the jewelry that adorned her blackened forelegs and neck. Her black tuft tail thrashed against the tile, as cold fury built within her gaze. “Sorry dear I’ll have to let you go; my pathetic excuse of a husband arrived.” Her ears stitched themselves to her head. As he approached, she lowered herself to threating display, her wings half stretched.  “You’re still here?” She said with a voice dripping with resentment.

“It would appear so Isadora. I unfortunately slept in late, I just finished up preparing my spells.” He ignored how she followed him as he went about his stroll, like she was trying to ignite his fur aflame. Even as he searched out the kitchens, she followed on his hinds. “Still angry about the other night I take it?”

“I caught you and that half-elf toy fucking like a pair of common beasts! In our bed! Of places!”

His ears pinned. “I’ve told you, we didn’t have time to find a tavern. One thing led to another-“

She leaped at him, talons poised to tear out his throat.

He easily dodged her attack, pushing himself away as a blue force field willed itself around him. Even still he stumbled back with a squawk, bumping into a surface holding a most treasured vase. Unfortunately, it went clattering to the floor, splintering into thousands of tiny pieces.

“A TAVERN? Like a fucking plebian? Do you have no shame, or have you simply lost your mind?”

“Already with the claws darling?” He shifted his weight and avoided another attack, the fierce gryphoness tasting nothing but air.

“Does it not occur to you what people might think of us! Of me!” She plucked one of the human help, currently dusting one of the many blinds. He yelped as she held him aloft, “Do you want to fuck this one too!”

“What? No.”

With a roar she hurled the man right at the gryphon, forcing him to catch him out of mid-air.

“See, no harm done.” He chirped, placing the man down, the color drained from his face.

Isadora fumed, a rampaging beast yet soothed. Tail lashed as she held Olas in her gaze, feathers fluffed, filled with utter contempt. “Father was right about you when he had us wed. That even though you would sire the heir of which we required for the treaty; you’d amount to a poor, pathetic excuse of a gryphon.”

“I don’t care about what your father thinks of me, especially not that long ago.”

“But it’s remained the same all these years Olas. That you’re a clueless, limp dick of a gryphon. One that will amount to a total embarrassment for both our families. If not for this arranged marriage, no one would suffer you. You’re a boring, dull, lifeless that couldn’t please a gryohoness if he wanted to.”

Her biting words rested upon the air, tugged at his spirits like that of iron weights. She was trying to get a rise out of him, just as she always had. All he gave her was an indignant chirp, insisting to himself he’d go to the kitchens, get his meal, and depart. She would not be victorious this day.

“That’s right, run away! Just like the coward everyone knew you were to be! Olas Mystic feather, if only the people that knew you could see you right now!” When he didn’t turn the gryphoness scowled, scoffed, and wheeling around, “No matter, I tire of your commoner sucking face anyway!” The shattering of another vase accompanied her shriek.

His heart pounded as he wandered into the kitchens, a bright spot in this house of darkness. A bowl of water had already been poured for him upon his weathered table, freshly polished. When he plopped down his hinds and ducked down for a drink he practically moaned at the water’s delightful relief.

Olivia came to him, placing a plate of eggs and bacon before him. She frowned, “I told you, waiting would do you no good.”

“I know.” He groaned, thanking her for the meal.

She shifted uncomfortably, “Excuse me sir, this might be overstepping my bounds, but why put up with her cruelty? Could you not lash back at her?”

His eyes narrowed, did she not think he’d thought of such things? “Yes, you were correct, that was an overstep.” He waggled a wing to her, “Now have your leave of me, I’d like to eat my meal in peace.”

“Understood.”

As she turned, a sad sigh upon her lips, Olas did groan. “That came out wrong Olivia. Apologies. You’ve not been here as long as the others. I’ve tried, the best thing to do is to not engage.”

“Its just…” Her ears splayed, “It doesn’t seem proper.”

“No…No it doesn’t.”

** ** ** ** **

With Olivia gone, Olas was left to his thoughts. Gentle, deliberate nibbles were taken, instead of indulging and tearing apart his meal like he were some feral gryphon of old. The food was delightful, tantalizing to the senses. The good girl amplified his breakfast’s flavor with ample amounts of hot sauce. While eye watering to a human, gryphons found such a thing spine tingling, a delight to the senses it almost demanded that he fill the air with his pleased trills.

It wasn’t long before his water was drained, prompting the fair gryphon to get more. He rose from the table, sauntering to the ice box where a mana stone inside kept stored foods cold. Once his cup was filled, he slipped his beak through the carrying handle, bringing it back to the table. He passed below pictures of the constellations above, one shaped into the form of a gryphon, where the goddess Parunga was rumored to dwel.

Images came to him of nights with Luna, pointing out delightful shapes and comets. His heart stretched to think her beak so open with delight as he held her attention in sway. Those days were gone of course, burned away as easily as the shooting star’s they’d enjoyed. A cold chirp escaped his beak as he settled his haunches to the floor. To the corner of his eye was a crystal ball, dormant, yet whispering for his grasp.

For people with connections such as he, this device could be used to communicate with anyone across the realm who possessed another one. As the cold of his memory bit at his insides, his talon wavered, almost reaching out. Should he contact him? The gryphon’s tail thumped across the floor, did he not have a long day ahead of him? Obligations and expectations that rested heavily upon his shoulders? He groaned at the thought of all the arduous paperwork, taxes, fines and other mind-numbing tasks that fell under his purview. Perhaps he did need a break. As the gryphon was about to reach out for it, his daughter Luna strolled into the kitchen.

Rust like feathers like his own, the younger gryphon was a spitting image of what Isadora and himself were like molded together as if clay. Where Olas’ hind end was dove like, his daughter’s instead of that of her mother. Onyx feathers blossomed up her chest, all the way to her face, where red-orange eyes rested, smart, vigilant, snapping away as they noticed that their father was still here.

“Luna! You’ve gotten up!” Olas’ voice brightened as he rose to all fours. Whatever darkness that had him gripped was lost within his first step towards her. “Did you sleep well my gryphet?”

His daughter groaned as she’d typically done, her father’s good cheer running off her feathers as though it were water. She slunk to the icebox, ears pinning as the elder gryphon approached and nuzzled along her flank. “Dad, were you not supposed to be gone?”

“Well, I had a troubling morning wouldn’t you know.” He laughed nervously, both their ears pinning as her mother shattered yet another of his treasures, accompanied by a piercing screech.

“Done yelling for the day yet?”

“Depends on how long I remain stuck in this house darling.” He rolled a talon to his chest as Luna reared up, pulling out her breakfast from the icebox.  “Did you sleep well?”

“Is that a serious question?” She glared, her beak clamped tight on the handle of a plate adorned with several fresh fish. They were uncleaned, practically still moist, the perfect treat for a gryphon to start the morning.

“You’re not even going to cook them?”

“I like them better raw.”

“Are you sure? I could just call Olivia back in he-“ His ears splayed as Luna planted herself down, eyes narrowing as she lifted one of the fish to her beak and snapped it right in two. “Well, enjoy your breakfast dear.”

“They’re better for you this way. No sauces, no added fats and oils. Just as it was intended.”

He chirped in delight, “Oh, I know where you got that from! The book on the natural living of gryphon kind! The one that I got for your hatchday!” He leaned over with an open beak, eyes dazzling with excitement, ready to start a rousing conversation of her research.

 Her response was dull with a hint of annoyance as her feathers ruffled. “Weren’t you supposed to get to work?”

Padding around her he nibbled at her ears till they tried to snap away. “I always have time for my special little Starfire, see how she’s doing. I’ve not talked to you in quite some time, I needed to tell you that I love you.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Hanging out with those boys again? Steven was his name?”

Ears pinned as she grabbed another of her fish, talons piercing the scales. Clearly, she didn’t want to talk. Perhaps with a bit of coaxing, he could change that.

A wing unfurled and wrapped around her, holding the gryphoness close. Beak close to her he rubbed his affectionally against hers. Even though she scowled at him, he only returned it with a smile. “Do you remember when you’d have nightmares? Where I’d carry you off to show you the sky until slumber did take you back?”

“Maybe when I was four dad.” She scoffed, pushing away his wing. When he nibbled at her ear again, she clacked her beak, “Dad quit it!”

“Mighty moody this morning, I suppose that answers you didn’t sleep well.”

“I’m not four anymore, I’m eighteen! You can stop treating me like some little fledgling around the house.”

“Yes, but to me you’ll always be the precious little girl that used to sing with me.” He replied, poking at her beak with a talon, “Destined to take my place within this family.”

“Think you mean married off so that I can be bred and have an egg plop out of me.” She shoved him away, eyes filled with fire.

His ears pinned, seeing the same expression he once had long ago. His feathers rubbed against hers as he nuzzled along her neck, his daughter unable to resist returning the gesture. “Such is the way of our family.” He said softly, running a talon along the back of her neck. The words stung, but it was the best he could offer. “This is your duty, as it was mine, and my father before me. The heirs for this family must continue, for the sake of the peace treaty between the Mistfeathers and the Steelbeaks.”

Her eyes rolled; beak clacking in warning. “I don’t give a toss about stupid tradition, or the treaty. Doesn’t seem to stop the families from snapping at each other’s necks.”

“It keeps them in line enough. Look how it used to be.” He sighed, “Gryphon talons used on one another, the lands littered with blood and corpses. Though we might fight and quarrel, the alternative is even less desirable. What’s the matter with Arion Stalktalon? I thought you liked the boy. I could have sworn you two were sweet on one another.”

Luna looked away; What strength she had wavered, followed by a defeated thump of her tail. “That’s what it looks like now, but what of decades from now? Going from sweet songs and delighted company to resembling that of bitter foes?” Judgement hung in her gaze as she snapped to him, “Do you think I will take after you or will he?”

Olas squirmed, words stumbling from his beak as he tried to respond to this remark. He found himself at a loss. Give him a troubling spell or scroll and he would find a solution in several of ways, he’d have it done by the eve with a smile. This though? He could hardly link two words together to satisfy the betrayal plain as day upon his daughters’ beak. “Luna, you must understand. What your mother and I had was…See we were never in…I never meant to…I felt…” He groaned, “See? I have not the words.”

“Then once you do, come find me. I’ll be busy reading up on the stars, considering I’ll be locked up in a cage.” Up went her beak as she pushed away his affections. As he went to her, her wings flared as she responded with a threatening squawk. “Leave me alone Dad! Go tend to the others or something I don’t care. Maybe your boyfriend will comfort you.”

He let her go with a weakened chirp, unwilling to press the issue. Anything more and he feared truly driving a wedge between them. The gryphon lord slipped into the halls, accompanied by a weakened groan. Perhaps come the eve she would be cooled down enough to talk. Maybe then he’d have the words to get through to her. Though with every step his thoughts darkened. This was a wonderful way to start a day.

** ** ** ** **

Sunlight graced Olas’ back as he drifted high above the earth, lost in the minor joy of flight. It was a brief reprieve from the weight of responsibility and regret that hung around his neck whenever he graced the ground. He could breathe deep the whispering air, let it caress his feathers like a lover’s care. Up and around the current’s he’d glide, briefly diving and then rising with a resounding trill.

Down below was diverse tapestry of colors, autumn fully staking it’s claim upon the earth. Trees were bursting with oranges, reds and lavenders, each more eye catching than the last. These were broken apart by snake like rivers, gleaming in the morning light. Among all these were mountains that rose like dragon’s teeth, their rocky slopes teasing at the very heavens themselves. Even now snow rested atop their summits, a thin layer of clouds always resting around the pointed tips.

Staring out the expanse of fluffy clouds, caught sight the multitude of gryphons that had already sought out the sun like him. They fluttered away, singing their songs, darting to and fro like a school of fish. Feathers of all kinds flashed, resembling more like leaves caught in the breeze. Among them were the distant outlines of airships, each powerful machines bearing the mark of Lumara upon their sturdy hulls. A rampart gryphon, pristine and glinting gold.

From all the natural beauty came that of industry and civilization, buildings growing like weeds themselves from the earth. Each a different town with their own peoples, each beholden to a different gryphon lord. All rested within the shadow of Whitedell, which loomed over them all from it’s lofty perch within the mountains.

Olas found one such town, a diminutive place called Featherton. Its people were simple and fair, trusting and always cheerful. It was here that he’d constructed his magical tower, where he might lend his assistance to those that sought him out. It stood out from the rest of the town, constructed with fine, pristine stone with a flat roof large enough that he might land with little trouble. Here he’d tend to the taxes, listen to grievances, make sure his land’s knights and guards were well trained and able to be brought to arms, should the need arise.

He tilted a wing and circled the town of Featherton, catching sight of the different levels carved into the mountainside. The bottom was packed with humanoids of all sorts, taverns, and shops more suited for their needs. Some gryphons rested here, trading stories for coin, or offering their wings for those without to travel to the other levels. Above that where places more suited for gryphons, where the perches were plentiful and the structures spread further apart. True there were stairs so that their humanoid guests might visit, but often it was too troublesome. Already the gryphon mage could see the scattered mass of humanoids and gryphons preparing for some sort of festival.

Banners were being hung up across every layer of the town, each a different color to represent the multitude of gryphon flights that called these lands their home. They fluttered in the breeze as gryphons young and old sung merry tunes, some even gestured at sight of the flying gryphon lord. He smiled to this of course but groaned that the shadow of responsibility would not be held back any longer. Tilting his wings, Olas made his way to the tower.

As he neared it, a line was obviously spreading from the base. Within were humanoids and gryphons of different sizes, each dressed in various forms of commoner attire. They chatted to one another, some laughing, others stood firm, clutching satchels with request that the lord might sign or approve. It pinned Olas’ ears, that great cacophony of need, all pointing the moment his talons graced his roof.

He groaned, pinning his wings, pressing down the joys of flight. Instead, he took a deep breath and readied himself, for the wants and needs of those around him. Hundreds of voices day in and out, all hanging off his every word. Instead of engaging in magical research that might revolutionize his lands, he was searching after lost kittens, fixing dresses, or telling the future. What had started as a kind gesture to the commoners, had soon turned into an obligation. One he was unwilling to go back on, their pleading faces stopping him from uttering the refusal each time.

Inside was organized and structured. The walls adorned in treasured paintings and charts of the land, each warmed by the sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows. He had various cushioned chairs for his guests, all opposite his throne like seat, complete with a hole for his tail. There he shifted, staring at the locked doors, talon risen. One gesture and they’d be in, assailing him with their many demands. He sighed and conjured to life a pot of minaratok, minotaur coffee. Pouring himself a cup he breathed deep the earthy fumes before gesturing to the door and saying the words of power. With a final lift of his talon the door opened with a click. In they came.

The day was like any other, long and filled with countless troubles. Businesses looking for suggestions, farmers looking to grow better crops, others requesting solutions to their squabbles. Often their trivial ordeals could be solved with hardly any fuss, unbefitting the powers that this gryphon lord did wield. Yawning he’d solve whatever ailment they had and send them on their way, the people’s thanks upon his ears. Others came to him for investment in businesses, ideas that might improve his own wealth but that of his many lands. They made promises of friendship, fame, prestige, always smiling with silver tongues. Olas would scowl at each one, knowing how this would go. The moment they’d gotten what they’d desired, they’d want no more of him. It was seldom now that he saw any of them, most being hurled out by a sizable translucent hand. He was about to do the same to a crimson vest wearing halfling, who’d just gotten finished talking about needing some land for his business.

“You don’t like the circus?” The furry footed man asked, struggling, as a translucent, yellow hand held him aloft by his patch covered suit.

“What now?” Olas’ ears perked, pulled from his dull haze by the word.

“The circus. That’s what I was asking about.”

Was it? The gryphon chirped as he rose from his seat, an interested bounce in his paws. He approached with skeptical eyes, “When has there been a circus around these parts?”

“That’s what I was getting at. It’s been years your lordship.” The halfling bowed his head, “Now if you’d kindly let down your handy, I’ll tell you about it.”

Intrigued, at least for the moment, Olas did as the diminutive man asked of him. With a flick of his tail the halfling was on his feet, dusting himself off with a thanks. “Do speak, I believe you mentioned something about a circus?”

“Yes, I did.” Replied the halfling proudly, “James Sparklebottom at your service, fine ringmaster of the greatest circus in all of Sethera.”

“Don’t they all make this claim?”

“Yes, but we mean it. Once you see it, you’ll have to agree!”

Gears began to turn in the gryphon’s head, a reprieve from the fog of monotony that he found himself within. It reminded him of younger days when he was but a small gryphet, hugging at his father’s side. The lord huffed, fluffing his wings as a plan began to form.

“Take it you like the circus Lord Olas?” The halfling beamed, holding the opening of his suit, “Everyone loves the circus, so no surprise.”

“Oh yes, delightfully so. I’ve not been in a dragon’s age.” He chirped, whimsically, “How my darling Luna used to love such things, sitting by my side, she ever did love the clowns.” Perhaps he might be able to sooth the turmoil that now rested within her?

“It would appear that you would like for us to set up on the edge of town.” Grinned Sparklebottom. “Perhaps relive such nostalgic memories?”

“I know what I can do!” He trotted to the other side of the room, ignoring how the halfling rose his brow to him.

“Do what your lordship?”

“It doesn’t matter my dear Sparklebottom. You and your precious little halflings can set up their circus on the outskirts of Featherton.” He padded his way to his desk, stamping a seal of scattered stars onto a piece of parchment. “Here, take this to the men. It will tell them you have my permission to proceed. Then you can work out the finer details with them.” He gestured to the door, rather pleased with himself, tail wiggling at the prospect of what to come. If he was going to have a day off, free of responsibility and stress, he knew just the man who he would request.

“I do wish you a good rest of your day mister Sparklebottom, but I must now inform my daughter.” He snatched one of his crystal balls, “And get ahold of the only man who can fuck me.”

The halfling stopped mid stride, “What?”

Olas’ ears splayed; he’d said that aloud? “Of course, I meant protect me! For when I visit.”

“My lord, my circus is quite safe enough. Never have we had any trouble before.”

“I’m sure that’s what you tell every lord that has you set up on his lands. However, I am under no illusions of those that would wish me ill. You run along and set up your little circus, I’ll gather up my daughter and whatever protection I feel adequate for myself.”

“Whatever fancies your feathers my lordship.” Sparklebottom laughed nervously, before wheeling around and finding his way out.

Talons tracing over his crystal ball, Olas chirped in delight. This was going to be delightfully fun. He let his thoughts drift to a man of no equal, one who stroked a passion unmeasured, the half-elf Leon Silverblade.

Chapter 2

The serpent’s pass was a winding path that traversed the voiceless mountains. It was an arduous journey for travelers, merchants, and any who could not afford passage on an airship, or the wonderful wings of gryphons to carry them. The forest hugged this rugged, root filled path with the jealousy of a dragon, eager to catch legs, trousers or the wheels of carts. Bushes of berries grew along side it, intermixed with thick underbrush bursting with thorns. The air would be filled with the gentle sound of the river below all the way through the Voiceless mountains until you found Whitedell.

Along this path trundled along a weathered wagon, showing signs of its age. It was pulled by a bay stallion by the name of Draigo, its tail swishing gently in the mountain breeze. The wagon was filed to the brim with barrels and crates, each full of flour, spices, and spell reagents on order from Whitedell. Along this cargo sat a male half-elf with a thin, brown beard, currently stroking his chin.

Leon Silverblade was his name, a mercenary of some renown throughout the realm. He held the reins of his horse with the firm hand of a commander, his icy blue, almond shaped eyes watching the path ahead and the sky right above it. He was built like an athlete, the callouses upon his hands telling a life of hard work. The sun that shone through the canopy above reflected off the silver sections of his armor, a blackened breastplate of interwoven parts that shifted to reds and whites on either side of the torso. His dirty blonde hair ruffled in the wind, his braids flicking against his metal pauldrons of blackened metal outlined in red.

At his side was a gryphon, laying upon his belly, preening away at his onyx-colored feathers. In the light the half-elf could see the varying shades that adorned this beast from the blacker feathers of his chest to the charcoal like appearance of his haunches. Blue was painted across the tips of his feathers, even below his eyes and on the tip of his tail fluff. He was chirping to himself as his lead grey beak travelled through his chest feathers, his black, scaly forepaws tapping against the wagon’s floor.

“Krantor, any sign of them?” Asked Leon without looking back to make sure his companion was watching the road.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The gryphon’s blue tipped ears flicked upwards, the gryphon’s pale blue eyes shifting to the sky. “Nothing yet.”

“You weren’t looking?”

“You can see as much as I can. Don’t know why you even bothered asking me.”

“Two sets of eyes is always better-“

“Besides, with our ears, we’ll hear them.” Krantor fluffed his feathers as he rolled lazily against their cargo, there he gently batted a hand against the wood, “Think they’ll take the bait? Maybe they don’t like our haunches.”

“Oh, they’ll take the bait.” Growled the mercenary, “They’ve been attacking every unguarded caravan over the course of the month. So stay ready, they’ll show their beaks.”

The black gryphon sighed, flopping to his back. “Still got your energy crossbow at the ready?”

“Do I look like an idiot?”

Krantor perked up with a sly grin, “Do you want me to answer that sir?”

He scowled at the gryphon and kicked the hidden weapon at his feet, a specialty of Lumara, a crossbow that fired powerful magical bolts of energy. It was adorned with runes, waiting for activation at just a touch, metal vents rested on either side of it to let loose what heat would build when fired. Typically, they were reserved for the military, but of course he had connections to get around that restriction. “Best wipe that look from your beak, else you’ll be getting stunned when it coughs.”

“Why is it you get all the toys in this arrangement?” Groaned the gryphon, his ears splaying. “When is it going to be my turn to get a fire conjuring bracelet, a lightning shield amulet, anything.” He flung up his hinds in exasperation, “It’s not fair.”

“When a thirsty, wealthy gryphon uses you to satisfy his perverted gryphon needs.” Growled Leon as his cheeks started to flush.

“Next time you’re taking one for the team, might I suggest asking Olas for gifts for Hekate and I? Just to be fair is all.”

The half-elf rolled his eyes, trying to get the gryphon off the subject and back to the matter at hand. On that matter, why were the ones they were after not taking the bait? He swiveled around and peered back to the path they’d traveled, eyes scanning through the emerald green canopies. No movement out of the ordinary, not a sound that his elven ears picked up, what was the matter? “Is your mate keeping her distance? These gryphons don’t attack caravans with any females within them.”

“You think females frighten them?” Cackled the gryphon, tossing back his head, “Now that’s rich.” He joined Leon in his searching, his tail thumping the floor in amusement, “See? Not a sign or speck of my lovely Hekate’s lavender feathers. You can unclench your butt sir.”

“If she’s following too closely, they might catch her scent. If they do, this entire plan will have been for nothing.”

“Then you’re in luck that Hekate sir is so good at being stealthy when she needs to be. Why just the other day she hunted me, startled me so bad that I spilled my morning coffee.”

“I know.” Hissed Leon, “I was the one you spilled it on.”

“Right.” Laughed Krantor, “I thought you were going to kill me.”

“The day is not yet done.” He grumbled, “Tell me, do you smell her?”

“On quite the normal basis sir. I would describe it as alluring and most welcoming, why, what do you smell when you’re sniffing her? I know that you two have been-“

“Not that kind of sniffing you lewd beast. I meant if you could smell her now.”

His ears splayed, as he gave a nervous laugh, “Of course you did, one moment.” Krantor rose his head, eyes closing as he took in three, deep breaths. Each one was accompanied with a tiny trill and ending with a shivering of his fur.

“Well?”

“Do you want me to describe all the scents?”

“Just if you smell Hekate.” Leon squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Then that would be a negative sir. See?” His beak parted into a smile as he warbled, “She is good at hiding.” The gryphon turned and waved a wing back to the path, softly saying, “Hi sweety.”

“Stop that! You’ll give her away!” Leon yanked down the gryphon’s wing, getting a nibble of his hair. He froze as the gryphon snatched at one of his braids. There was an uneasy calm as he stared into those pools of pale blue mischief, “Don’t you dare.”

“Do what?” Mumbled Krantor, his crown feathers raising one after the other.

“You very well know what.”

“Can you ask more polite?”

He glared daggers as the gryphon fluttered his eyes, giving him the most innocent look. “Krantor, can you please not yank my hair.”

“And?” Krantor rotated a talon.

“And I think you’re one of the sexiest and prettiest gryphons to walk this world, save your wife.”

“How wonderful of you to say sir!” Trilled the gryphon, releasing the half-elf’s hair and nuzzling along his cheek, only to be pushed away, “Olas is going to be so jealous!”

“Go ahead, I’m curious to see what a jealous magician will do to you.”

“On second thought…I don’t think I will tell him.”

“Good gryphon.” Leon growled, returning to his watch of the road beyond Draigo’s body. “What are we missing?”

“Perhaps I should announce how weak and vulnerable we are?” Krantor rolled a talon to his black and blue chest, “Especially how robbable we appear to be, wiggle my haunches around, make a show of it.”

“The bounty didn’t say they were that thick.”

“Alright, the normal amount of thick then.” The gryphon began to scratch his head, tilting back so that his hinds could reach, “So remind me again what their method of robbery was?”

“Wait…we already went over this.” He snapped back as the gryphon worked.

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

Blood grew hot, “What were you doing?”

“Stuff.”

Oh, he already knew what that was, especially with how he flicked his tail. “You were watching your mate again, weren’t you?”

The gryphon chuckled, “You’ve seen her sir, I don’t need to tell you how distracting she can be to either gryphon of half-elf. It’s your fault really.”

“How are we supposed to get stuff done if you’re not going to pay attention?”

“By telling me right now.”

Wanting to pull out his hair, Leon averted his gaze and began going through the plan once more, “And this time pay attention.”

“That I can do.” Krantor sat up straight, pinning his wings to his back.

“This group likes to only go after males for some reason. Like to give their victims a show of their mating dances, enchanted with some form of magic I imagine. Once their victims are subdued, the gryphons in questions take what they want from the caravans. Sometimes they demand or request favors from the people as well.”

“So, bandits that steal from you and promise you a good time? I don’t see much a problem with mounting and blowjobs Leon.”

“Not everyone is thrilled with the prospect of sudden sex as the followers of Parunga might.”

“I’m just saying…they could be killing these people.” Krantor tilted his head, “Do they at least get the people to finish?”

“Not the point Krantor.”

“I’m just trying to gage if they’re total monsters.”

“Look, not everyone likes the predatory advances of male gryphons.”

“Just you?” Chirped Krantor with a mischievous grin.

Leon’s brow tightened, “Listen, just because Olas and I-“

Their attentions were suddenly drawn to the sound of a flurry of wings right above. Down came four gryphons, brown, white, almond and black. Each was adorned in rugged leathers with an assortment of pouches and gear. They looked more like adventurers than the cruel image painted of a group of bandits. A serious of friendly trills traveled across their beaks as the almond-colored leader pinned his wings and strode forth.

The leader’s chest swelled with confidence as he padded over, giving the pair a disarming smile, betraying the predatory look that glimmered in his amber eyes. “Greetings travelers. Nice day to stretch the wings wouldn’t you say?”

These were most definitely the bandits, the descriptions that Leon had been given matched these catbirds perfectly; down to the last detail, the way they acted, the charming act of the leader. Leon played up his naivety, let Hekate, if she were out there, get closer so that their trap could be sprung. What might look vulnerable, actually had teeth.

“Lovely day that it is fair gryphons.” Leon laughed, running a hand across Krantor’s neck, scratching at his feathers, “Just taking our goods to Whitedell. Figure you boys are out watching the roads? Always good to see.”

“What is your name little human?” The leader approached with a sway of his haunches, he’d done this plenty of times, “Even with our watchful eyes, it’s dangerous to go alone with your lover.”

Krantor pulled back his head with a squawk, “Heavens no. Sure, we’ve shared an intimate encounter or-“

“Excellent.” The gryphon rumbled with salacious intent, now but an arm’s length away. “You can call me Bright-tail, and these are my merry gryphs.”

Leon introduced himself with a fake smile, waving to the now paw shifting gryphons. He could see by their tense expressions; they were waiting for whatever plan their leader had in store.

“We keep a wonderful eye on this path, keep it safe from monsters.”

There was a sweetness on the air, the sound of his voice most pleasing. Leon’s skin flushed, his heart starting to beat ever faster. There was magic about, that much was certain, it was all he could do to not scowl and pull away when Bright-tail extended a wing and ran it on the underside of his jaw.

“So, cute little thing like yourself doesn’t find himself eaten, bound or taken advantage of.”

“How considerate of you.” He smiled, “I take it you lads do this out of the sweetness of your hearts?”

Bright-tail shook his head with an amused chuckle, “Heavens no Leon, we do so for a fee. Minor one of course, but it pays for the equipment and the time we spent.” He gestured to both of them, “I’m sure you two handsome lads won’t mind offering a small donation to us?”

At his feat he brushed the crossbow as Krantor chirped in amusement.

“Or you could satisfy myself and the boys other needs.” The gryphon maneuvered so that Leon could get a good long look at his furred underbelly, where the sheath between his legs was already swollen. There was no mistake what other needs this gryphon spoke of. “So what do you say lads? Offer a bit of coin or tend to us? Small price to pay for your safety, no?”

“Sorry, not my type.” Leon replied, flipping the crossbow from the floor to his hands and hitting the rune of activation. It hummed upon the air a deadly promise, “Get mounted.”

“Always the hard-to-get types.” Bright-tail sighed whimsically, “Well Leon. I can tell you; I can’t wait to hear the change of your attitude. It’s going to be so sweet when I have you mounted, singing my name as I paint your insides a new shade of white.” His wings flared wide as he leaped back, avoiding the first crack shot of Leon’s crossbow. The gryphon landed with his associates, who in turn had gone and spread their wings wide.

As one the group of gryphons wiggled their haunches in a captivating display, extending their wings and using them as a dancer might their arms. It was teasing to the eye, dulled the senses, whispering promises of seductive pleasure. It was of course a gryphon’s mating display, complete with a cacophony of squawks and trills, each laced with a sinister magic.

He couldn’t look away, couldn’t raise his weapon. Leon’s skin flushed with desire as his eyes traveled from one gryphon’s sheath and balls to the other. His mind was bombarded with salacious images, of he and Krantor playing hen to these rowdy group of catbirds. He could feel the desire being instilled in the back of his mind, the need to fling himself to all fours and beg to be taken. He started to stand as the gryphon’s dance grew closer but managed to shake himself loose from their enchantment.

He'd never been as thankful for his elven blood than this moment, it made him resistant to such effects. Unfortunately for his gryphon companion, he did not share in this advantage. Krantor had strolled from the wagon and planted himself on the ground, haunches raised up and his tailhole exposed and offering a most alluring invitation. The other black gryphon had already slipped on over, licking his beak as he groped his companion’s haunches.

“Oi! Hands off the bird!” Leon shouted, gathering his senses to snap twin shots of crackling blue energy towards Krantor’s would be rapist. The gryphon’s squawk of surprise resounded through the group as he was sent to the ground, his dripping shaft going unattended.

“Hey, he’s supposed to be charmed!” The white gryphon ruffled his feathers.

“Seen the dance too many times to count. It will take more than that to have me moaning for you jerks!” Leon leaped from the wagon to take cover, snapping off another volley that missed the gryphons as they scattered.

“Goodie, I like it when they squirm, better that way!” Bright-tail leaped over the wagon with a keening cry, his talons outstretched.

He yelped and rolled out of the way, nary avoiding the gryphon’s sharpened claws. He was forced back as the predatory bird followed, not willing to give him an opening to release another set of shots. Even with his armor, he shuttered to think what sharpened talons could do to him.  Where was Hekate? Her absence could not help but be cursed at as he was chased around the cart. “Come on Krantor, snap out of it!”

Krantor’s beak was open and drooling, his eyes in another state of being. He wagged his hind end back and forth as the other gryphons snapped their beaks on who would be the first to mount and breed their new hen.

“Gods damn it.” Leon growled as he managed a moment to fire the crossbow point blank into Bright-tail’s face. What should have crackled and stunned the charging gryphon did little more than hit a blue, rippling surface right before his feathers.

“That’s right, your toy won’t work.” Bright-tail swatted the crossbow from Leon’s hands, the weapon clattering to the ground. “You got to tussle now, but don’t feel bad handsome, I’ll be gentle when I mount you.”

Oh that wasn’t going to happen, not with the chirps and hollering the other gryphons were giving. He retreated; the hungry gryphon followed as if this was some grand game. One slice, a second, it was more like grasping. Leon pulled out what appeared to be a simple blackened stick adorned in runes. At a press of a button a length of the tip started to crackle and sputter with sparks, widening his attacker’s eyes and giving pause. “Oh no, he’s got a different toy.” Leon smirked, “What sound do you think you’ll make with this on your balls?”

“Think a bit of electricity will-“ The gryphon was sent flying back by a mere touch, crashing to the ground with a pained squawk. Silence soon came as the other gryphons snapped their heads to what had transpired.

“Oh no, the human has some fight in him.” The brown gryphon remarked, clicking his tongue as he took this moment to maneuver himself to mount Krantor. “Need help boss?”

“Not yet.” Wheezed Bright-tail as he rolled to all fours, a thin line of blood dribbling down his beak. The gryphon wiped it, glaring daggers at the mercenary before him, “I’m going to make you pay for that love.”

“I’m not finished big boy.” Replied Leon, giving the weapon a flourish, raining sparks upon the ground, “Can you handle my big shaft?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing!”

With a shout and blood pumping, he resumed their deadly game. Leon kept the gryphon at bay with his precise jabs, seeing the fear in the catbird’s gaze. Each one however the gryphon was learning, adapting to the mercenary’s movements. He grit his teeth as he chased the squawking creature around the wagon, all to the cheering encouragement of Bright-wing’s cohorts.

“You got him boss!” Shouted the white gryphon.

“Smack him down.” Chirped the brown gryphon.

“Working on it.” Bright-tail replied with a narrowed gaze, slipping under Leon’s attack and landing a solid blow.

Pain lanced through him as Leon crashed to the ground, forced to roll to avoid the full weight of a gryphon landing on him. He was forced on the defensive as his attacker followed, proceeding to peck with his sharpened beak, an amused trill escaping him.

“What’s the matter human, not so confident now?”

“Just biding my time is all.”

“Just give in, I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun. Everyone loves gryphons.”

“Sorry pal, but I have to repeat myself, you’re not my type.” With a shout he found his opening, jabbing upwards into the gryphon’s chest feathers. Lightning sparked and crackled across Bright-tail’s form, putting him into the dirt with a defeated groan. “See? There we go-“ Leon stood, whirling around to brandish his weapon at the other gryphons. Instead of the fearful beasts that might surrender, the honor less dogs had instead taken another strategy.

“Enough fun Leon.” The white gryphon squawked; gaze narrowed on the man. One talon was around Krantor’s throat, ready to tear it out. “Weapon down, surrender before your friend here has another hole.”

“Here I thought you had some decency.”

“We take handsome guys like ya and make them our hens.” The gryphon laughed, “Now get down and put your butt up and pray to the gods that you got lucky with us.”

No way he was doing that. Leon was still, the sound of his blood sounded in his ear. “Come on Krantor, wake up ya blasted bird.”

His black and blue gryphon was still charmed out his mind, tongue hanging out while the other gryphons handled him.

“Tick tock half-elf.” White gryphon clacked his beak, tightening his grip, “Ass up, weapons down.”

Where was Hekate? Leon took one last look around, desperation growing as he searched about the multicolored canopy. There was no sight of her, not a purple feather, nor her vanilla fur. The mercenary was forced to groan into the smug expression of these gryphons before him, thinking they’d won. “You win for now.” He grunted, dropping his weapon, getting a chorus of approving chirps.

Bright-tail shook his head and strolled to Leon’s side with a predatory lick of his beak, eyeing the prize that he’d one. “This one’s mine boys, had me work up quite the appetite. Kneel boy.”

Flushed cheeks, Leon did as was requested of him. He tried one last time to wake Krantor, but the gryphon merely waved the brown gryphon onward to mount him.

“He’s not listening love.” Bright-tail said with a cruel glint in his gaze, extending a talon to grip the half-elf’s chin, “Here’s how it’s going to go Leon, you’re going to worship myself and my merry gryphons. Then we’re going to take turns, getting you and black beauty there to sing our names.” His tail flicked as the air grew with his spicy musk, signaling the gryphon emerging from his sheath, “And I’m going to enjoy feeling you clench around my knot.”

“That all?” He scowled into the eyes of his conqueror, getting one last jab, “I’ll take heart that you had to resort to cheap tricks to-grah!” His face was shoved into the dirt as Bright-tail maneuvered over him, the half-elf’s world consisting only of the chirps of the gryphons about to take his friend, and the dripping threat right before his nose.

“And if I feel teeth Leon…You’re in for a world of hurt.”

He gulped, watching a thin bead of translucent pre slither down the swelling head. It was red, covered in soft spines, contained within a furry, almond furred sheath. There it stared, hungry, demanding Leon’s attention. It drew closer as its owner chuckled and shifted, filling every breath with the smell of the gryphon’s arousal. Leon’s cheeks burned, hating to admit he rather liked the smell, it reminded him of another gryphon.

“Open wide Leon. Show me how much you love my cock.”

Was this how it was supposed to go? Held down and forced to suck gryphon cock, swallowing down whatever this jerk had? He groaned, wishing he had the lack of morals to let Krantor perish. The throbbing spire was now inches from his lips, spurting a fresh river to ease its entry.

“There we go…You understand-Ack!”

The path exploded in brilliant yellow light, forcing any who beheld it to clench their eyes shut. Bright-tail was sent sprawling backwards, tumbling to the dirt with a pained squawk. There he flopped, as a keening cry boiling with rage resounded all around them.

“Get off my mate prick! Only I’m allowed to hump his butt!” Shouted a purple feathered gryphon, her talons aglow with magic of pure, crackling yellow energy. Thick wrappings of orange cloth covered her ankles, hinds and chest, brass sections winking in the light. The red sun of Fureen was emblazoned on her vanilla colored haunches, signaling her devotion. With a resounding squawk she swooped over their heads, raining bolt after bolt of energy, forcing the gryphons to scatter for cover, lest they share the same fate as their boss. Those that did connect were carried with the strength of a minotaur’s punch, sending the black and white gryphons tumbling to the dirt.

Leon bounced back to his feet, thanking the gods for that timely delivery. He grabbed the electric shaft and brandished it firmly, not wasting a moment as he leaped towards the still dazed Bright-tail. With a swat his weapon connected with the malevolent beast, slamming him into the dirt, knocking him unconscious. “Could you have cut it any closer Hekate?” He shouted, wheeling about to face his next target.

She landed by his side with the upmost grace, resting on her two hind paws. There she cackled with glee, raining down bolt after bolt onto the gryphons doing their best to avoid her. “Sorry about that Leon, was busy with a really beautiful butterfly.”

“Butterfly?” He groaned, “You were supposed to be watching over us!”

“And for that I’m sorry, but on the plus side, I got a really good picture drawn, I’m getting better at it.”

He surged forward to the dancing gryphons, trying to prevent them from regrouping and pressing the attack once more. He avoided the incoming slash of talons, sending the feathery foe tumbling to the dirt with a thrust, “How many times do we have to tell you?”

“That I need to get better?”

“Take an art class Hekate! Not in the middle of a mission!”

“Have you seen the prices of them?” She squawked, as the brown and black gryphons raced right after him, figuring it was better to put the caster down first. “Not when we’re saving for a tavern!”

That blasted tavern, the one she’d always been talking about, the one to be after her adventuring days were done. Leon squared off against the white gryphon, his muscles tensed, “Thanks to your artistic vision, I almost had to suck that gryphon’s prick!”

She bumped into him as she avoided the heavy swings of her opponent, “So, like your monthly visits?”

He blushed, batting away the white gryphon’s swift attacks, this time his counter jab was avoided, the gryphon snagging his arm with a beak. Any trouble that might have come from this development was quickly dashed as a familiar onyx feathered gryphon pounced and landed upon the white gryphon’s back.

“Everyone miss me?” Krantor squawked, his voice one of pride.

“Finally! You’re not ass up, reading to swallow the first cock presented to you!”

Krantor’s ears splayed as he wrestled the white gryphon to the ground, grabbing hold of his head and slamming him unconscious.

“Don’t worry dear.” Hekate gave her husband a wink as she leaped up, guiding her opponent underneath of her before landing behind him, “I think your butt is most darling. Leon is just jealous he doesn’t have an ass.”

“I have an ass!” Leon growled, putting down the brown gryphon with a swat of his shaft.

“I’d have to agree with Leon dear.” Krantor was at Leon’s side with a playful wink, “Else, why would Olas like-“

“Not in front of the bandits!”

“You mean bandit?”

There was only one of them left before them, the black gryphon stepping back, warry eyes travelling over each of them. Fear trembled beneath, things were not going how they’d imagined.

“What’s the matter boy?” Hekate chirped, her crown feathers raising, “Gryphon got your tongue? Or has all the fight gone fluttering away like a star bird?”

Leon advanced at her side with a confident smirk, “Answer the lady gryphon. What happened to the promise that I was to be mounted and bred?”

“I think he’s worried about what we’ll be doing to them.” Krantor chuckled, making sure to drag his talons menacingly through the dirt, “And I do ever want to pay you back.”

“Oh, fuck this.” The black gryphon declared as he flared his wings, powerful hinds bringing him upwards towards the safety of the sky.

“Oh no you don’t fucker!” Hekate reared up, her talon cupped and twitching, with a lash of her tail she squawked the draconic word of power required. Her eyes swelled up with an angry crimson light as the gryphon trying to flee froze midair.

“That’s my girl!” Cheered Krantor as the black gryphon collapsed to the ground, unable to move a muscle. Krantor chirped and hummed to himself as he bounced over to the bandit and swiftly knocked him out with a kick from his hinds.

“Guess they don’t like it rough.”

Like that, the worry was over, the bandits were caught. Leon breathed a sigh of relief as his two gryphons chirped and hugged with their wings.

“You were so wonderful dear.” Trilled Krantor, nuzzling his mate’s furry lavender cheek.

Hekate reciprocated, eyes closed as she rubbed her flank up along side his, “You should have seen the butterfly love, it was ever so pretty. Orange and red, the colors of Fuereen!”

“Oooo, that does sound pretty. Though not nearly as sexy and pretty as you look right now.”

Rolling his eyes, Leon rummaged through his cart, procuring four sets of rope thick enough for even gryphons. It would take some effort, but they’d hold this lot, no matter the amount of squirming they did. “Alright you love birds, lets get this lot bound and packaged up. We don’t need them waking up and flying the coup.” He had to stride over and swat the lovebird on the haunches to break up their passionate, beak clacking kissing they were doing. “And can you make out after we’re done?”

They parted with a series of amused trills and chuckles, “Aww, Leon can’t take a break?” Hekate whined, brushing a talon across her lover’s smitten beak, “After such a victory.”

“I think you just like the idea of this idiot’s butt wiggling in the air.”

“Is that what happened?” Krantor’s ears pinned in alarm, “Oh gods, did any of them mount me?”

“They were going to, but I stopped them good.” Hekate smiled, bumping her flank alongside his, “No one humps you good but me. That right?”

He grumbled and ignored the gryphon’s playful teasing, “Just help me with the bindings, you two can fuck later.”

“Well you heard him, get to work hun.” She swatted Krantor on the butt with a wing as he brought over some rope to work on the other gryphons.

In short order they had all the gryphons hogtied and wings bound, ensuring none of them could break free. Hekate had gone about summoning a translucent magical claw from her spells, plucking the gryphons one by one and moving them to the cart with upmost ease. Several times she nearly dropped them as Krantor flirted with her, causing Leon to step in each time.

On the final gryphon, Leon was tightening the final knot of the rope, chuckling at the peaceful look of Bright-tail. “Guess things didn’t work out you jerk.” He chortled, tugging the rope firm.

Krantor sighed, giving the half-elf an honest, beak parted smile.

“Care to illuminate why your face is like that? I told you, I’m not joining in the love fest that is your mating.” He focused on his work as the gryphon chirped in protest.

“You didn’t seem to mind last time.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to every time.” He growled, making sure to check the unconscious gryphon’s hind bindings.

“I was trying to thank you for saving my butt…literally this time.” The gryphon flicked his tail for evidence.

“How many times do I have to tell you? We’ve worked together for years now, you don’t got to thank me every time I save your haunches. It comes with the territory.”

“Momma always said to thank the guy that stops your behind from being rut like a beast. Bad luck if you don’t.”

He groaned, the gryphon meant well, but he knew where this was heading, Krantor was not doing this for himself, “You’re not going to drop this till I thank Hekate for saving us are you?”

“Perhaps.” Krantor waggled a wing, “I’m just trying to keep you from having bad luck. Like that time with the rock elementals in the voiceless mountains, or the trolls that were terrorizing Histria with their riddles, or the witches that wanted to sacrifice our souls to hades? Crazy I know, but still.”

The air was filled with countless occasions as Krantor continued his listing of every adventure they’d every shared together. “Alright you whiny bitch, I’ll thank her.” He padded Bright-tail’s hind and snapped to Hetake who was waiting for the signal. “Hetake! Thanks for keeping me from having to swallow gryphon cock! I really appreciate it!”

“No problem!” Chirped the female in reply with a hearty laugh, “But you don’t have to thank me Leon, we’re a team!”

With a smug smile he turned to Krantor, the gryphon’s ears pinned and gaze narrowed, “What did I say?”

“I just know you’d rather have saved attentions for someone else.” The black gryphon snapped his head away with a lash of his tail, “Speaking of which…” His ears clicked up, a hint of mischief flickering in his pale blues, “Are you going to see him? I’m sure we can take a detour to go see him-“

Cheeks blushed as he finished working on securing the gryphon. He gave the signal to Hekate, allowing her to summon her claw and carry the unconscious beast to the wagon.

“So, are you?”

“Krantor, I already saw him the other day, what part of that do you not understand? What Olas and I have is a contractual thing. He gives us jobs and supplies, great leads, and once a month I go to his blue blooded estate-“

“And share a passionate night of fornication.” Krantor teased, doing his best impression of the horny noble gryphon, “Where you fuck that gryphon’s brains right out…and he gives it right back.”

“What we talking about?” Hekate called over, “Anything good?”

“Just about Leon’s boyfriend!”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Protested Leon as they marched over to the wagon, avoiding the teasing stares of his companions, “And we’re going to stay that way.”

“So, that’s going to be a yes?”

He rolled his eyes, there was no reaching them when they got like this. They were terrible, best way to let it end was to ignore it, hope they got their fill. Sure enough, once the gryphons were loaded up, and Draigo fed, the wagon was ready to return to Fetherton, where a happy reward awaited them.

“Better luck next time eh?” He swatted Bright-tail’s behind, “Your sorry asses are going to treating us. Hope wherever you end up they go easy on you.”

“Can I Leon?” Hekate had slipped around the wagon, an orange and brass paddle held securely within her pale yellow beak. The flat surface was emblazoned with the red sun of Fuereen.

Chortling, the mercenary did give the captured gryphons a gesture, “Just for the moment, to satisfy whatever kink this is.”

“It’s not a kink!” She gave an indignant squawk, nearly dropping her paddle, “This is what happens when we catch ruffians! They are rightfully paddled for their crimes!

“Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself. Just don’t take too long, I’d like to get back to town before dark.”

He sauntered over to the other side of the wagon, digging through his pouches and procuring his pipe. With a satisfied sigh he leaned against the wood, enjoying the spoils of another successful mission. Up to the fluffy clouds he stared, knowing that his companions could easily fly away on their wings, leaving him to drag back the gryphons himself. It warmed his heart that he knew they wouldn’t choosing instead to walk the entire way back with him. With a matchstick he brought life to his pipe, taking a long, satisfied drag to enjoy the flavor.

Smacks of a wooden board upon gryphon haunches soon filled the air, followed by the whimpering squawk of their owners waking to the punishment.

“Can’t believe you went and married this one.” Scoffed Leon as Krantor sat upon his haunches, taking Leon’s pipe when it was offered, the gryphon took a deep breath, savoring the flavor before exhaling a large plume of smoke.

“She is quite the charmer you know.” The gryphon smirked, passing back the pipe as his eyes traveled to the gryphoness he held dear, now going to town on Bright-tail’s exposed rump. With every thump, Krantor’s eyes trembled with envy, his hinds shifting.

Leon laughed, spying the hunger dwelling right below the gryphon’s face, “She uses that on you, doesn’t she?”

“What? Me?” He snapped his head away, ears pinned, “Never.”

“Then explain how you’ve gone about exposed from your sheath?” He gestured to the gryphon’s lower regions, where a dot of pink was found in the sea of black fur.

“Figure you’d go looking.” Huffed Krantor, rising to all fours as the half-elf continued to laugh, “Now if you excuse me…I’ll see if she needs any help.”

Chapter 3

The trip back to Featherton took the rest of the day, serenaded by the gentle sounds of the Voiceless Mountain’s Forest all around them. Krantor filled this time with his songs for his beloved, eyes fluttering as he enchanted her with gryphon melodies of various chirps, trills and warbles that only held meaning in his people’s tongue. Leon had rolled his eyes as they lost themselves in one another, soon kissing with open beaks and leaving the half-elf to his thoughts. Those had him clench tight the reins, wishing to snap at them but holding his tongue, they’d earned their moments of passion this day.

Glaring back to the captured gryphons revealed they shared the same sentiment, squirming and groaning under the wet smacking sounds of the gryphon couple. Fitting punishment he figured, far less than what they deserved. Lucky for this lot, the reward for their live capture was far greater than their death, otherwise he’d have blasted them apart and left them where they fell, cutting off various parts to return home as proof. Gruesome he knew, but more than justified for what this lot had done. Fortunately for these bandits, the clerics of Parunga often took the taking of life as a last resort.

Eventually the winding pass broke through the multicolored trees, opening to Featherton beyond. Its buildings were simple and quaint, carved into the mountainside by ancient gryphs of old. They were spread out over multiple layers, easy for gryphons to reach with their wings, connected by stairs for the more flying challenged visitors. These dwellings had sizable perches for any gryphon to rest upon that jutted out in the shape of gryphons in flight; to go along with these were flat, sturdy roofs, perfect for gryphons to lounge out in the sun and soak up the warming rays.

The lower sections were ones constructed for humanoid guests, the buildings here lacking the apparent age. These were crafted of sturdy wood, the same roofs, collected like a group of dark brown stumps. Here there were shops, taverns, inns, and various establishments, all run by gryphon kind, perfect for those that wished not to climb the hundreds of steps to the other levels beyond.

The town was one of activity, its surrounding airspace filled with the flight of dozens upon dozens of gryphons. They danced through the air as if to a hidden song, exchanging chirps and trills in a rush of blurred colors and fur. Like the autumn leaves the groups followed the currents, scattering outwards in a display of pure freedom. Other gryphons dwelled on the lower sections on foot, chirping and greeting humanoids that they met. These were adorned in layers of cloth, brightly colored and wrapped around hinds, fore talons and chests; they sold human garments as well, though they would be considered far too revealing for the norm. Some catbirds trilled out for humanoids to ride them to other levels, only charging a handful of coins. Gryphets darted across the cobblestone here, nipping at tuft tails, ears ignoring the cries of their watchful parents.

Banners hung from the humanoid structures, waving in the wind. Most were of browns and golds, painted upon them the rampart gryphon of Lumara; others were bright reds and deep oranges, signaling the multitude of flights that called this place home.

The clicking of the wagon’s wheel set the pace for their return, accompanied by the clopping of Draigo’s hooves. Gryphons drew attention with perked ears, whispering to one another that the Horrid Howlers had been caught. Some waved and cheered for Leon and his companions, to which the gryphons were warbling away.

“Store your horse here for the night fair adventurer!” Squawked a gryphon of almond fur and a stocky belly, he gestured to a sizable stable without a blemish about it. With Leon’s attention upon him he slapped a wooden sign, one that read, Happy Horse Hotel. “That’s right sir, here at the Happy Horse Hotel, you can be guaranteed that your hooved companion will be completely safe, or your coin back with interest!”

“Fine deal that.” Krantor whispered, covering his beak with a wing, “Typically they don’t offer that.”

The half-elf grumbled, knowing that there would be no other stable in Featherton. “I’m sleeping in the stall with him.” Grunted Leon, shoving a smattering of coins into the stable gryphon’s open talon.

“Sleeping with your-“ The almond gryphon adjusted his head to get a look between Draigo’s legs, “Stallion, I’m not one to judge.” He rolled a wing to his feathery chest, “I’m sure I’ve gotten up to stranger things.”

“Not like that you bastard.” Hissed the half-elf, “I’ve lost count of the number of horses I’ve lost to gryphon accidents or midnight snacks over the years. I’ll be sure to make sure none of your staff have any such accidents.”

“One time, it happened one time.” Groaned Hekate, “And he never forgives me. I said I was sorry!”

“That doesn’t bring back the horse, does it?”

“But he was tasty, does that help?”

“No!”

Deep in his feathery throat, the almond gryphon chuckled, “Sir, I guarantee your stallion will be as safe as an egg, even as…appetizing as it looks.”

Leon’s gaze narrowed, “You’re not really instilling any confidence.” He said bluntly, “I’ll be in there tonight, save us a spot.”

“Then I’ll have to charge you for another body.” Smirked the gryphon, opening his talon once more, “Stalls are for one body, not two.”

“Listen here you charlatan. Leon here wouldn’t have to sleep in there if your people could be trusted!” Hekate thrust a talon into the almond gryphon’s chest, “And further-more, he doesn’t take up that much space! Look at him!”

“I am looking at him, what do you want me to do? My wings be tied.”

“Then…Untie them.” Glared Hekate, her eyes starting to crackle and spark literal electricity. “We just captured the Horrid Howlers.”

“Yes I can see that-“ The almond gryphon padded back, gulping as the female followed him, not giving him a inch of personal space. “Madame, what do you want me to do?”

“Not charge him, are you deaf?”

“I’d do what she says.” Leon shrugged, smirking as the gryphon was chased around. “Her claws can get really sharp.”

Krantor chirped and stroked his chin, “And she really hates it when people try to swindle us out of coins. Go get him hun!”

“On it sweety!” Hekate replied with a wink.

“Fine, fine, fine!” The almond gryphon flared his wings, stopping the female’s chase with a raised talon and splayed ears, “I give, you can have the ruddy stable for the price of one.”

“How very generous of you.” Said Leon, giving the gryphon a brief salute, “And as I said, save us a spot.”

“Or she’ll be back.” Krantor added with a hiss and lash of his tail.

With lodgings for his horse secured, Leon and the others brought the Horrid Howlers to Featherton’s guard captain, gifting him the four, squirming gryphons. The guard captain had strolled about the nefarious bunch, inspecting their behinds before gracing them with a firm, open talons smack.

“Good work the lot of you.” Said the brown gryphon with white spots smattered about his feathers. He was adorned in light armor of leather and chains, tail swishing amusingly back and forth. “Though why the gags through the beaks?”

“Couldn’t shut them up.” Leon replied as Krantor snickered into a wing.

“Surprised you brought them in alive, most wouldn’t have.”

He shrugged, “You offered more money. Speaking of which-“ Outwardly he extended his palm, getting thrust a satchel of coins into it.

“Then we’re glad your hand was stayed by the appropriate amount of coin.” Chuckled the gryphon.

It was all there as the captain had said, enough to cover their expenses at the inn, the stable and a night on the town. He nodded and wheeled about, leaving the Horrid Howlers to their fate at the talons of a trio of gryphons that grabbed them on the captain’s command.

“You really going to sleep at the stables like the last town?” Krantor asked as they started to stroll away, playfully teasing as his wife eyes one of the professional preening services dangling an orange sign three levels up. “I’d hate to leave you alone while we get…pampered.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing the preeners were essentially massages that had happy endings for the gryphons in question. “Better that way, don’t let me ruin your fun.”

“You wouldn’t ruin it.” Hekate said, brushing up against him with a soothing chirp, in those Lavender pools was the empathetic soul he knew, “You could…come with if you want.” She blinked seductively, swishing her tail.

“And if not that-“ Krantor laughed, “I’m sure there are some preeners or three that would tend to your back…release your…tension?”

He swatted away their playful beaks before they could nibble at his hair, “I’m fine, truly. Both of you, just-“ He sighed, “Go and have some fun alright?”

“Sure?” Hekate tilted her head, ears splayed. “We don’t have to go there if you don’t want…that urge taken care of. There are plenty of humanoid places we can go to.”

He rolled his eyes, they were honestly trying. Though what should have comforted him instead ate away at him, ruining what should have been a night of fun. “Yes, I’m sure. Now don’t make me say it again before I dock your share of the coin. Speaking of which-“ He handed out their share of the coin, each of the gryphons pocketing it in their pouches, no doubt about to be spent that evening.

Both the gryphons rumbled and pressed against him, subjecting their human to an attack of feather and fur. Their trills filled the air as he desperately tried to push them off yet failed at every turn.

“Hey, watch it!”

“Thank you. Do try to have-“ Hekate was cut off by the sound of fluttering wings as a brown and white gryphon landed beside them.

“Master Leon is that you I spy? Or is there another adventurer with pointy ears following a pair of gryphons around these parts?” The gryphon pinned his pristine wings, the white and orange scarf that he wore around his neck ruffling. Unlike Hekate and Krantor, this gryphon’s fur was well groomed, his feathers spotless, the scent of nutmeg soon filling the air.

“Oh Lord.” Leon groaned, this could only mean one thing, Olas Mysticfeather. “I just saw your master but a fortnight ago. Our arrangement was for once a month.”

“Oh marvelous it’s you.” The gryphon’s feathers ruffled, “I could recognize that harsh speech anywhere. Good to see you in good health sir. I take it you thrashed those Horrid Howlers good?”

“Yes.” His arms folded as he ignored Hekate’s beak sneaking into the edge of his vision.

“Oooooo…Leon’s your boyfriend wants you.” Her voice cracked in a near squeal as her husband snickered behind her.

The mercenary’s cheeks started to blush, “He’s not my boyfriend for gods sakes. He’s a rich client that has an arrangement with us. He gives us assignments, toys and coin-“

She cut him off with hissy sounds as her husband chimed in.

“Is that why you always come back from these meeting smelling of him?”

Oh gods, he’d give anything to get out of this conversation as his two friends laughed and squawked away, both their wings falling upon his shoulders as they continued to squirm. “Look, he’s a noble, I’m a commoner, whatever keeps the rich, thirsty prick happy alright? I’ll take one for the team if it means money, jobs, and a noble not making our lives a living hell.”

“Does that make you a sex worker?” Krantor asked, getting a wing smacked across the face from his mate.

“Krantor, for shame.” She huffed with a nod, “Olas loves his little hero. They’re so cute together!”

As Leon’s cheeks burned like that of a volcano, he was relieved to have the gryphon noble pull him away, as Hekate was trying to insist that he should invite the lord for a romantic date.

“What does the bird want?” He hissed the brown gryphon.

“Just your presence at the estate master Leon. You in particular.” He gestured to his companions, “They are not requested.”

“At least he’s consistent in his priorities.” It was starting to appear as though Hekate’s point was proving true. “Did he say what he wanted to see me about?”

“Apologies. That he wasn’t as forthcoming with. I imagine he wanted to have one of your personal chats, in a more intimate setting than the town square.”

“Hells.” He shook his head, hands on his hips, “And does he know that we already had our time for the month?”

“I do believe that occurred to him yes.” The brown gryphon shifted his hinds, “He did seem rather fond to have you over sir.”

Of course, the gryphon would not keep to the deal. The half-elf grit his teeth, figuring it was better to keep the Lord happy than to protest and cause a ruckus. “Fine, but this won’t be a normal thing alright?”

“Understood.”

“He’s totally going to try and fuck me when I get there isn’t he?” He groaned.

“He had quite the pep in his step sir, swishing tail and all that. I do believe I heard him humming.” The brown gryphon bowed with a wing, “Shall I deliver master Leon to his clutch-I mean his estate?”

“You going?” Krantor’s eyebrows bounced, as his mate nuzzled him, impatient to get to their night of fun. “Don’t want to keep Lord Olas waiting after all.”

Groaning, Leon wheeled around, unwilling to look into his gryphon’s pleased faces. Though he knew they meant well, it came from a misunderstanding of what he and Olas had. “Not like I have a choice, do I? I refuse and the wizard insists, pulling any string to make us. If I continue to resist, he can make our lives a living hell.” Kicking the dirt it settled into his gut, this was going to happen, but he’d go on his own terms; he thrust a finger into the brown gryphon’s chest, “I’ll be taking Draigo there.”

“Are you sure?” The gryphon stuttered, ears splayed, taken back. His eyes flicked to the sun as it was drawing ever nearer to the horizon, “But that will take an hour at least, it will be dusk by then! The flight would be just a few minutes!”

“Yes, but I can leave on my own terms.” He tapped the gryphon’s beak, “Instead of relying on your Lord to return me.”

“He does like to keep you there.” Krantor chirped.

“It’s sweet.” Hekate sighed, “He doesn’t want you to leave. Oh, I have an idea, why don’t you spend the night! He has a place for your horse and everything, and he won’t eat it, he’s just as crazy about horses as you are!”

The pompous gryphon looked to them all, clearly fearful at giving his Lord the bad news. His ears pinned as he took a deep breath, “So I should expect to inform my master of your impending arrival?”

“Do what you want.” Growled Leon, clambering up onto Draigo’s back. With his goodbyes to the others he rode off, rolling his eyes at how they waved and chirped, wishing him a wonderful night. Like he wasn’t riding off to be some rich asshole’s plaything. The mercenary steeled himself and watched the road, reminding himself that whatever façade that Olas presented, beneath the surface was nothing more. The reality bit the mercenary’s lip as the horse below him brought him out of town.