END OF ACT
Act 1 Verse 7
König im Baum
Only had to wait three days before I got the call. The course was decided: we had to kidnap the ruler of the Griffon Kingdom.
The talking Twilight did with Dash and Stonewall was about ironing out the details, strategies and, most importantly, selecting the best crew to pull it all off. Because hey, I’m dynamite at resolving violent conflicts, but I often need competent support to get me to where I need to be.
And a respectable lot it was that would get my scaly butt deep into griffon territory. There were the three necessary mages that would be tasked with zapping me to the target zone, and to provide magical support and defense if the need called for it. Then there were two Earth pony rangers to provide extra protection, a pegasus for aerial reconnaissance, and a Diamond Dog tracker to navigate the rocky terrain we’d be going over when breaching the border. And with me coming along it’d be rather big for a small group, but it’s good to have some extra hooves (and paws) to heft back what we’re aiming to retrieve.
As for the plan itself: after I got summoned to one of the castle’s private chambers, Twilight laid it out that the best approach was from the north, a good ways from the (demolished) Griffonstone station. We would get dropped off south of the Bug Bear region, and hoof it the rest of the way through the mountains. Our tracker would lead the way by ground, with the mages teleporting us through otherwise impassable terrain. In a few days’ hike we would arrive outside of Griffonstone’s border where the second, and most important, phase of the operation would commence.
The following two days I met with each member of the squad, got briefed on current info regarding Griffonstone defenses and the kind of opposition I’d face within the castle, dossiers on the target, equipment, etcetera. All prep for the big day when we finally ship out. It was an hour before sunrise when we were set to depart. Me and my team stood on the dock of the private airport, watching the small crew of the skiff that would be carrying us make ready for lift off. Very small, light craft, sleek and can get you places pretty fast undetected. Perfect for the job.
Some of the team shivered from the morning air, except for me, ranger Bramble, and our tracker. We’re wearing standard issue field vests, a sterling wash of beige brown with black straps. All the ponies were weighed down with survival saddlebags, while me and Whiff (don’t ask me) hefted backpacks. This being a military operation, I didn’t feel it appropriate wearing my usual shirt and coat, as I wouldn’t be focusing on looking cool but rather making sure there was less of me to snag on something. Same for my shades (wait for me, my darling).
After a few moments the head organizers came up for final inspection/pep talk: Stonewall, Dash, and Twilight. They also have membership in the Non-Shiverers Club, either because of their honed constitutions or the seriousness of the occasion.
“It’s gametime, boys and girls,” the general announces to kick things off. “You already know the sensitive nature of your mission. As you may have surmised, there will be no backup. You either succeed in your objective, or you’re left to fend for yourselves. There will be no rescue if things go south. With that said, I have the utmost confidence you’ll succeed and come back safe and sound. You’re among Equestria’s finest soldiers, and you will keep making this country of yours proud.”
Stirring speech there. Rainbow steps up next.
“Wish I could come with ya, but you’ll have to settle for some of the best airship crewmen in the Air Force. They’ll fly you safe and fast to the landing site, and they’ll be there for pickup at the word ‘go’. Time is important, so none of you better drag this out. I’m especially talking to you, Cirrus!”
“None from me, Sir!” our pegasus snaps a hasty salute.
“Atta boy! You be their eyes in the sky. And the rest of you, good luck.”
We all nod to that finer show of encouragement, which looks ready to be squashed by further words from Stonewall.
“You may now head onboard. Get whatever rest you need, and get moving once you hit foreign soil.”
“And be careful and vigilant in your mission,” Twilight adds, infusing regal confidence to the send-off. “Watch for one another. Let the light of Harmony guide you, and the magic of friendship keep your spirits warm. You have my blessing.”
Solemn but appreciative nods from the group, who then begin making their way to the ship. Dash and Stonewall depart toward the central port, and as I’m moving along Twilight steps in front of me.
“You feeling okay, Spike?”
“Yes yes, again for the twentieth time. I’m set for this.”
“Sorry, it’s just... this kind of mission, I worry about those involved. Especially you.” The averted gaze, the idle hoof swing. Too early for this shy cuteness.
“That’s usually Sweetie’s job to be worrying about me.”
“Maybe, but I’ve known you longer and know you far better than anyone else.” She breathes. “And what you’re doing is really brave, but I don’t want it to be because you felt you’re the only one who could do it.”
“Hate to break it to ya, but…” I shrug and grin. “I’m pretty much the most capable guy at doing this kind of nutty outfit.”
“It would seem that way…” She looks to me with a smile. “Although you have an impeccable track record of succeeding against near impossible odds.”
“And it’ll be no different with this one. I’ll send you a letter once we’re heading home.”
She leans forward and gives me a firm but gentle hug. Wow, surprise show of affection right there. Hope it doesn’t trigger any omen alerts.
“Be safe. Sweetie will be waiting for you.” She backs away, her countenance considerably brighter. Seeing that warmth gives me some as well.
“I’ll see you around, Your Highness.”
“Likewise, Spike.”
With that she trots off after the other two officials. I half-turn back and watch her cover a few yards before she turns back and waves, to the annoyance of a distant Stonewall. I wave back, allowing myself a smile before turning around and rejoining my team. No doubt they’re getting tucked in against the nippy weather. Best cozy myself up as well. For her sake, at least.
*******
It’s a very long flight, even in the relative speediness of the skiff. That means plenty of time to go over the proposed hiking route, make alterations, organize our kits, and discuss/re-discuss the second phase of the plan. Not much time to do that part once we’re on the ground, so we hammer it in as much as possible while we’re flying pretty. We make time for breaks, which is also a luxury we’ll be sorely lacking fairly soon. I sharpen and polish my sword, and after that I go around looking at the passing scenery and chatting with the occasional crewmen. As for the rest of the team, the mages mostly keep to their cabin. One of them, Sable Rush, casually reads a book on his bunk while the more bookish Cyprus focuses on his airsickness. In the corner the third unicorn, Cascade, checks and rechecks her supplies. The more battle-ready kind of spellflinger, not one for sitting around idle.
I get invited to play cards with Bramble and the other ranger for a bit. We tried inviting Whiff, but he was more interested in sticking his head out of one of the portholes, feeling the wind whipping at his jowls (coulda done that up on deck. Weirdo dog). Didn’t get to see much of our Eyes in the Sky, so I guess he’s getting his own bit of fresh air as well. Or practicing the whole reconnaissance role, whichever.
In a day’s time we’re flying over the northern badlands. Rather than go through the mountain range as I had last time, our skiff takes the long way around to avoid the risk of being spotted by any griffon scouts. Along the way I had looked to see the patch of barren brown earth that clashed with the blue of the Crystal Mountains. Still seemingly untouched. Forgotten by the world in little more than ten years. Probably for the best.
Day two and we cross the river to the other continent. We keep a sharp eye out for bugbears, but none show up. It’s a few hours before evening time when we reach the drop-off point: the very start of the mountain range that would lead us south toward Griffonstone. With our equipment on we disembark, barely getting a feel for solid ground again before the skiff takes off without so much as a parting “good luck”. If all goes well we’ll see her again.
We cover a good bit of ground by the time the sun sets, and cover even more before we pitch our tents for the night. We strike out just as the sun’s coming up, and it’s pretty much nonstop hiking from there. Whiff would at times stop the group to get a good sniff of the dirt (heh), pointing us to areas with firmer footing and were less prone to landslides. There’s practically no cover here in the mountains, so we leave it up to Cirrus to watch over us from above for upcoming obstacles, storms, and possible enemy movement. With his small frame and light coloration he’s hardly discernible from the vast open sky. Seems to blend in just like his namesake.
No one’s telling stories or cracking jokes; the moment we left the ship it had all been serious business. Sure, the mission’s insanely critical, but it would help to loosen up a bit during down time. Even some morbid, vulgar humor would be appreciated. Though I understand that not everyone would have her same tastes. Just wistful thinking.
After stopping for camp on the second night we go over the map to get our bearings, which thanks to Cirrus’ constant surveillance we’ve been able to keep moving south while giving a wide berth to what had been the former trading post and now likely griffon-occupied territory. The next day is overcast but luckily no rain. We make it to the Guto River, which is easily overcome thanks to our helpful mages. A handy thing, having teleportation-trained magic users in a group like ours.
The whole thing is arguably just as boring as the ride on the skiff, except we’re getting ample exercise. I’ve done my fair share of scouting trips and mountain treks during my Vanguard years; I’ve even done one here in these mountains. But that was almost a decade ago, on the hunt for a cartel smuggling books to the griffons. Now there were no griffon allies to show me around, and in the distance I can just make out the faint beating of drums. We’re getting close.
After one more night of sleep we enter the final stretch. The mountains are starting to get snowy, but not cold enough to be a hindrance. We stop in the early afternoon to get rested up for the final approach. Phase two called for darkness, when all else were sleeping away or sluggish in senses. I’m starting to get anxious, and so are the others, by the looks of it.
Dusk, we’re moving again. This time heading for the steeper slopes westward, watching our steps and keeping a sharper eye out for any air patrols that could be coming out this way. Sucks when your intel on enemy surveillance patterns is next to zilch, but luckily none showed up. In the waning light we spot the first smoke billows. Well into night, we’re still climbing. After midnight we clear the shoulder of one of the lower peaks. And that’s when we finally see our target: Griffonstone.
The capital is sprawling; even in the murky shadows of night I can pinpoint all the different districts, factories, and other buildings that make up the city. Smoke and fleets of whirring airships fill the night air, advertising a nation of iron and war. Hard to imagine that it all started out as some hovels on a mountaintop, only to spread down and way out from that very mountain. In the center of it all, towering high above the very griffon nation itself, the King’s Tree. Something else that got a drastic upgrade over the years, with turrets, stone walls around the base and a lot of stone edifices affixed to the bark of the massive birch. Somewhere down below I can see movement of a vast number of live, likely heavily-armed forms. The general wasn’t kidding about them being formidable.
No time to sightsee: there’s work to be done. Everyone gets into their places (by which I mean me and the mages). I pat myself over and double check my inventory. Ten griffon-dose tranq darts, some smoke pellets, rope and folding grappling hook, and of course my trusty sword.
“Found a good spot, Cirrus?”
“Just about… Yep, got one.”
Cascade goes over to our eagle eyes, taking the binoculars off his hooves. Probably shouldn’t be so hard for her to spot with all the fires blazing around the place. Guess the native-borns have gotten scared of the dark; certainly ruins the advantage of a nighttime infiltration.
“One of those upper-level guard houses on the slope. Looks empty,” he directs while the unicorn scans the area around it. Dropping the lenses she nods.
“Seems wide enough. It’ll have to do.”
She goes over to the other mages, who each get a turn checking out the chosen deep strike zone. Afterwards they space themselves equally from each other in a semicircle, with me facing the mountain.
“You got everything, Spike?”
“I do, Cass. Just don’t send me plummeting over empty air.”
“No worries about that. Worst that will happen with this casting is you getting stuck in the mountain. Just remember to tuck and roll.”
“Gotcha.”
The other ranger comes up to me (Dodger, gah I can’t believe I forgot to mention him) and says, “We'll move to the capture point once you're inside, so don't keep us waiting long.”
“I don't intend to. Should only take me thirty minutes tops, probably twenty. Just be ready to help take the weight off.”
“Thirty is all you'll have to work with,” Bramble firmly states. Yeah of course, we've read the same projected mission times.
“Yeah yeah. I'll be out real quick, Bramble.”
“You better: you owe me forty bits.” (remember, kids: never make bets against someone who’s more experienced at the game than you)
After another pat down and a loosening of my limbs, I take a breath. “I’m ready.”
Cass nods, and to her fellow mages she says, “Begin casting. Dodger, be ready to time.”
A firm nod from the ranger, then the three unicorns close their eyes and focus. Shortly light begins to glow from each of their horns, getting brighter over seconds. A creeping warmth starts rising up my scales, which cues me to stand really still. There’s a momentary whine of intensifying magic before everything erupts in a blast of white. Split second later I’m hit with darkness and a sudden weightlessness, telling me to curl up. Just a fall of two feet onto a hard stone surface. I get back up and shake off any disorientation, getting my bearings. The peak my team is on is a good several kilometers behind me, and in front of me is the near-flat face of Mt. Griffonstone. Let’s do this.
Reach into my vest, get out the rope and unfold the grappling hook. Attach, take a step back, get a good look up at my options… another step back, look up… Alright, twirl my rope and give it a good toss upward! Heck yeah, first try!
Tug the rope to set the hook in place, then get my feet up against the rock and start climbing. By the look of things nobody noticed the flash of light on this lonely part of the mountain, but still need to watch for any patrols. Gonna be a while before getting up top, so rundown of the gameplan: get in, maybe suppress some guards, bag the king, drag him out, give the signal, and have Cass and the others come and zip us out. Question though is how to get his lordship down the mountain to a good teleportation… Eh, I’ll get to that when I get to that.
Reach the edge of the top, lean to and peek around for anyone. No one, good. Heft myself up and press myself against the wall. Ruffling of feathers, clanking of armor, crackling of fires on the other side. I sidle quick, putting distance away from the main gates. Getting to a point that had to be close to the castle, I turn to face the wall. Running start up a few yards, claw up the rest of the way. Nice and quiet, easy does it.
Getting my arms over the edge I look into the royal compound. What had been the original site of Griffonstone township is now a garrison, with lots of barracks and equipment sheds where houses might have been. Large open spot in the middle, no doubt for combat drills. Bunch of soldiers milling about a large fire, as if they needed one with all the torches hung up around the walls. To my left is the towering edifice of the castle proper. Yep, pretty close. Some guards at the main doors, though. May have to go through the back.
Duck down when I spot a guard flapping up to me. Lands and moves away along the wall. Seems I'm still in the clear; best grip my way further left to be sure.
Arms getting tired after a few more feet, so I look up again. The guard is chatting with another sentry. Don't think my grip will last just waiting around. What would she do in this case? Oh right: screw it.
Clamber further along until I get past them, then swing myself up and get flat onto the stone. Reach into my vest real quick before one of them notices me.
“Hey, you th—!”
Run and grab the other guy's head and slam it into his pal before he finishes. I stick a dart into the neck of my battering ram, then spring onto the other guy before he can recover. Tries to grab me, but I inject some anaesthetic before he has time to squawk. Just two prone birdies in La-La Land. Look around; doesn't seem to have raised an alarm. Kind of sloppy, but at least I got nonlethal points.
Now to hide the evidence. I grab their tails and drag them further along the wall toward the back of the castle. Practically no light, and no one’s here. Seems one of these guys was the rear guard. Patrols seem light tonight; lucky me.
The backside of the enormous tree is leaning against much of the inner wall. Good little slope to break the fall of the two guards. There: obscured by shadow and tucked somewhere private and (probably) cozy. Now to get myself inside.
Quick leap and I'm off the wall and onto the birch. Good thing about wood is that it’s not very tough, so claw-climbing is much more pleasant. Keep on elevating and looking around for any fliers. Stay away from any windows and turrets for a while, till one nondescript one catches my eye with a soft orange glow. Get myself up to it and look through to find a decent drop down into a large spacious chamber, aglow from the flames of a massive brazier in the center. Must be the foyer, or possibly the throne room. Given the heat that fire’s producing I must be looking through a ventilation hole. More importantly is the lack of anything remotely dangerous from what I can tell.
Get myself into position, over the rim, hang down, and drop. Crouch landing on packed stone, quiet as a dust mote. Way toastier in here with the brazier at my back. Quick look around and it’s coast clear. Right, now I just gotta make my way to the bedchambers for our snoozing king. No doubt two or even three guards along the w—
“It appears a lizard has scurried into my throne room.”
Oh… no…
I turn around slowly, and looking past the fiery bronze container I see the throne and the source of that low, thunderous voice. Laying down on his side like most big cats do is the Griffon King Himself: Gladius. He certainly has the physique of a kingly sort, being twice the size of your average honkin’ bulky griffon. Though an interesting color palette for a bird cat: silvery, unblemished fur making up the lower half of his body, and plumage of flawless obsidian on the other. Those shimmering eyes of hardened gold, and a beak that’s, well, chipped and scratched in some places, but just goes to show you the kind of experience this monarch has been through. All makes for a commanding presence, even without the gilded crown barely fitting atop that head of his and the rod of gold-inlaid iron grasped in his calloused talons.
“I sensed that danger would come to mine court this night, and thus chose to greet it when it inevitably arrives.”
Of course the war-mongering king would still be awake in the dead of night, sitting in his throne room alone waiting for trouble. Why do I always put faith in something as unreliable as common sense?
“But I am a little surprised that you would come to disturb my sanctum. The young princess does me great honor in sending her personal assassin.”
Already off to the wrong impression (not like the truth is that much better). Gotta amend this quick. I carefully step forward to better present myself.
“Stay thy ground, reptile. Think me a fool in allowing you to get within striking distance?”
“I'm not here to assassinate or bring you harm, Your Highness.” Okay, now think of something quick. “I only wish to talk with you. Peacefully.”
“Surely? The cold-blooded cur that threatened my ambassador, slaughtered droves of my finest warriors without hesitation, and snuck into my castle under the cover of night, wishes to make parlay? I would be most amused if fury was not already simmering in mine breast.”
He's doing a good job of hiding it, if that’s true. Yet the way the fire is flickering around his eyes, almost roiling, definitely hints at some nasty inner animosity. Tread carefully, Spike.
“I speak in earnest, Your Lordship. Princess Twilight only wants to know why you attacked Equestria’s border without warning.”
“And he feigns ignorance as well! Mistake me not for a fool, boy; my mind is as sharp as your foul blade. Therefore I waste not my breath repeating what my ambassadors have been requesting for years. And what you had balked for the very last time.”
“But why go to such an extreme? Why do you need the former Crystal Empire so badly?”
“For survival. My people are expanding far more than our homeland can support. Fertile fields are needed to ensure that no griffon suffers from crippling want, to fight amongst themselves just to eke out the most wretched of livings. To lose their identity, their proud heritage, all over again over aimless squabbling and dead ambition. It appalls me that your princess, who preaches highly of acceptance and harmony, could overlook such a threat to so numerous a people, waving it off lightly as some mere land expansion. But greed is the furthest from what I seek, make no mistake.”
“But, it can’t really be that serious, can it? Out there, I don’t see a population crisis, or squalor or wretched living. By what you say, you’re trying to fix a problem that isn’t even there. And if you’re wanting to expand and offer more places for your citizens, they can always come to Equestria. There’s plenty of space in most of our cities, and they would be happy to take on some extra griffons. This doesn’t have to be dealt with through military aggression.”
“Then you recommend forsaking our identity to befit your ideal of contentment.”
Oh boy. “Not at all. They can remain as griffon as they want. Our land is one big melting pot, with flavors from many races.” Gods that’s cheesy.
“To stew amongst so many has the effect of diluting the rich flavor of the original ingredient. It blends, becoming indiscernible from the rest. Our kind is far greater than that, more glorious and venerable to merely assimilate. You remove a griffon’s place in the world and they will inevitably fall into petty thievery, greed, and misdirection.”
“I still say you’re taking this too—”
“I speak of this because I have experienced such bleak living myself.” Boomed that one right out. “I scraped and bickered among my brethren, finding little else to see me through the day. No one had aspirations, motivation, desire to better themselves. We were but vagrants in what was becoming more of a cesspit every day. Then on one bitter winter’s evening, a lone spark materialized from the vapor. Its minute but radiant glow caught everyone’s attention as it fell and lit up a lone scrap pile. In the blaze that followed everyone was captivated, and in those flames I saw promise, potential, a future for our kind. In that moment I remembered our heritage, how we stood mighty above all other races, and that we were a species that would never fade from the pages of history with nary a squawk. And I could see the same feelings welling up in the eyes of my brothers and sisters as well.
“From that day forward we strove to better ourselves, crawling out from the depths of stagnation to rebuild our once great empire. That fire guided us to the majesty we have achieved today, and will continue to light our way to greater glories. Griffons have remembered the heights they are capable of reaching, and as their king I will see to it that they are never weighed down by inaction ever again.”
I know that kind of talk. Getting that old foreboding feel. Still gotta try.
“It is not Princess Twilight’s intention to suppress your kingdom’s prosperity, Your Highness. Equestria and Griffonstone have always been on peaceful terms, and for it to be shattered over a land dispute would look petty. War is never a solution any wise and compassionate ruler would seek if things don’t go their way. I beseech you, on my princess’ behalf, that we put this aggression behind us and find more reasonable, nonviolent alternatives. No one’s questioning your strength; diplomacy is its own victory, worthy of the highest pride.”
“And so the true, inept face of ponykind reveals itself.” Crap; wrong words there, Spike. “You laud diplomacy for it is the most effortless. How simple it is to dismiss and denounce one through words then with your own might, to settle disputes in a physical, unquestionable manner. Ponies are weak, relying on negotiations and airy talks and titles and agreements, weapons of pens and parchment in favor to that of sword and shield. To become complacent through bureaucracy is its own form of stagnation. A form which I have grown tired of dabbling in, as you have grown tired of as well by being here!”
He practically launches himself up with that shout and, hoo boy, is he a biggun when he’s standing on two legs. If he had teeth, he’d be gritting them something fierce based on the tightening of his beak.
“Dost you think me a fool to believe that the bloodied sword of the equine princess, the Slayer of Gods, would come here to toss paltry words about? Your deceit is as thinly-veiled as the fangs in your soul! You have come to do me, and my kingdom harm, so waste not your breath or mock my intellect with your empty pleas.”
That scepter of his gets a mighty twirl before he slams the tip of it into the inner curve of the back of his fancy throne. Only it’s actually the head of a massive battleaxe, cuz that’s exactly what he hefts back up and clutches between his talons with a grand thrum.
“The blood of Grover flows through my veins, and I shan’t allow his legacy nor his citizens to be snuffed out by a lesser kingdom’s assassin!”
Those black wings of his flare wide before he leaps at me. I hop back right as that massive bladehead hits the ground; it's still shaking when I land. Dear lord, what's in that thing?
“Gladius, I don't want to fight you!”
“Then die!”
He steps forward and swings wide, leaving a noticeable gap in the air as I jump back. He follows through with a backswing, then ends with an arching slam. I don't quite leave the ground when the last one strikes, making me lose balance and fall back amidst the tremors. I roll left to avoid getting crushed by his leaping stomp. Getting up on a knee, I strategize.
Been a very long time since I’ve put up with this sort of boss, and I’m hella rusty. Yet the end goal here isn’t to kill him. I simply have to knock him out before he chops me into dragon cutlets. Wait, that’s not simple at all. But it still boils down to the right moves and the proper utilization of the tools in my possession.
I sprint forward to put my plan into action. He readies then swings around at me, but I leap up and heft over his downward-moving arms. Up over him I go, and not a moment hitting the ground I spin and go for his back. Only he's halfway through an overhead backwards swing, which I manage to leap and tumble away from. Damn that was fast!
“I've hunted geckos more fleet-footed than you!”
He stomps toward me, but I only take a step back before holding my ground. With a surprise show of speed he brings up his battleaxe and brings it down like a guillotine. I sidestep it so it splits the floor, then I leap up onto the shaft and run for its holder. Instead of surprise, though, I see fierce rage on his royal face before he brings up a talon and swipes at me. I get in a step so it's just his arm and not the claws that get me, but I'm swatted to other end of the chamber.
“Your simians antics won't help you; face me like a destroyer!”
Catching my breath, I rethink my strategy. He's moving and reacting way too fast for someone his size, and that blow is making me a bit woozy (I think?). I might want to actually make use of the tools in my possession now.
As he stomps toward me I reach into my vest. Before he can raise up his battleaxe I whip out and toss down some smoke pellets. They do their job and cloud up the immediate space between us, but I don’t delay and run to the right. Grabbing three tranq darts I divert left and make a beeline for the king. Reach out to inject into his side, but a great “fwoomp” and burst of wind clears the smoke instantly as I see his majesty take to the air on that magnificent set of black wings. Riiight, more than just for show…
He flaps midair before launching himself down at me, his axe leveled down like a lance. Another hurried hop back and I avoid getting cut/pierced, watching the head of the weapon dig straight into the floor. Then the king yanks up his axe like a massive ornate shovel, sending three chunks of rock and dirt arcing my way. I sidestep and duck around them, but looking up I see Gladius charging me. Instead of using his axe, though, he turns and leans in to shoulder me off my feet. Off I fly and hit the wall, losing hold of the tranqs while hitting the ground on my ass.
“See how pony politics weaken the strongest of warriors? And you dare preach such toxic drivel like a saccharine opiate. Now enough with the tricks and face me!”
Getting sick of those kingly taunts. Okay, fine, we’ll do things more your way. Plus it’ll mean one less thing to dig into my back while getting tossed around.
Up on my feet, I reach back for that familiar grip. Slide it up and forward, steadying it before me. Not the situation I wanted to get into this stance for, but man it’s calming. Seems to affect the king as well.
“Finally you bare your true nature. Now let griffon steel clash!”
Definitely not a calming effect, as he runs at me with gusto. Winds up for the slam, I hold my ground… then leap sideways as it’s halfway down. With his weapon grounded I lunge out with my sword at his exposed talons, but he jerks them back to ready a swing. I duck and step below the attack, then twist around to slash at his arms. Got a nick off him that time. This gets a a mad squawk from him as he whips out his arm to backhand me, but I’m ahead of his move via a backstep.
Gladius takes hold of his axe and swings it around, but I leap back rather than parry. No clashing of steel, pal. Though my blade is made of hard stuff, I don’t trust my arms (or even legs) to withstand the force behind those blows with a proper parry. He swings again, then abruptly leaps back several yards. Flexing his body, he crouches before letting his wings launch him straight at me like a ballista. Luckily he left plenty of clearance under him to roll through, but I just barely pull it off before he goes roaring over me.
Seriously, the speed on this guy is ridiculous! I have to keep pace with him if I’m gonna get anything done (or leave in one piece). Sorry, Gladius, but you’re forced me to bring out my own special bag of tricks.
While the good king is recovering from his charge, I bring up my sword and bring it down… through the side of my right foot. Yeowch! Only a flesh wound but boy it stings. Suck it up for the other foot and there we go. Now with two bleeding feet, I bring up my bloody sword and whisper out the enchantments. Let out some fire (seems brighter?), hone the steel. Ready to cast.
“Peridot Tracer.”
Whip my flaming blade right and left, setting off gouts of controlled flame from my wounds. Just in time, too, for the king is bearing down on me.
“En guarde!”
He leaps to bring down his axe, only I dash back on a trail of flames, leaving him to smash sparks. That actually seems to confound him, but only a split second before he comes charging again. I slide back and turn, then start skating around the brazier. Sweet move, huh? I actually got the idea from a dream, and Zecora was cool enough to work out the enchantments to make it a reality. Now blazing speed whenever needed!
Speaking of, I’m almost all the way around the brazier and coming fast upon the king’s back. I raise the back of my blade to wallop him, but he twists around and catches my sword with the shaft of his scepter axe with a clang. No time to be stunned as I zip backwards and go around for another pass in the other direction. He caught on for he’s facing me when I circle around, and he lunges forward with his axe. I spring up, palm off the axe and flip over him. Touching down behind him, I turn and spring at his exposed back with a fiery kick, hitting him dead on and singeing fur and feathers as I step up to his head. I try stomping at the base of his neck and shoulders to bring him low, but I only succeed at hitting hardened muscle and getting an angry growl for my troubles.
He swipes up at me, but I kick off his head, knocking off his crown in the process as I make for the ground before me. Touchdown and I hear some angry stomping before a loud bellow/screech. Finally got under his skin. Don’t bother sticking around to gloat as I dash forward to do another lap. Midway along I sense a disturbance, and looking up I see the crownless king flapping over the flames to intercept me. He drives his axe into the ground with earth-shaking force, which I have the forethought to jump over while also side-gliding to the right. I zip on past, but spot Gladius flapping over ahead of me, no doubt to cut off my escape. Figures going aerial will lessen my maneuverability. Two can play at that game.
After he lands and looks to face me, I veer to the wall on my right, then with a hop I angle my feet to hit the vertical surface. The boost from my Tracer allows me to glide up along it, past the king and along the lower rim of the ceiling. Maneuver around the windows, vent holes and roots as I skate along. After a few revolutions I head back downwards along the upper wall, then bring down my sword on the approaching Gladius. His axe is up to block it, of course, but the speed at which I hit it causes a notable shift in his stance. Zip back away to the other side skating all along the ceiling, bringing up my palm to give it a cut. Come on you wily bastard...
On cue I see the great griffon flying on an interception course to where I’m gonna be, but boy what a surprise I got for him as I whip back my sword. I slam my blade into the wall right as he’s about to smash into me, and the immediate Piston launches me right into his chest and sends him straight back the way he came. His back slams into the wall with tremendous force, and not wasting a breath I plant my feet hard on his upper chest and lunge at his neck with three tranqs. Dead on! He makes an angry surprised caw at the darts stuck in him, and though he tries to reach forward I see the drugs work instantly. His eyes blink and his head bobs; his axe falls from his grip as his shoulders slump; finally he falls forward like a lion-skinned sack with a graceless thud.
I jump off in time not to get smushed by His Bulkiness, and take a moment to catch my breath while looking at my handiwork. Lying all prone, no doubt in a very deep, dreamless snooze. Just one or two tranqs may have been enough, but wasn’t gonna chance it with the trouble he gave me. Plus I couldn’t keep my Tracer going for much longer. It’d have drained me almost as fast as my Lancer move. Right, this room’s getting way too stuffy for me; it’s time to vamoose.
Hope the rest of the team is still waiting out there. I think I’m still within the thirty minute window. Gotta hurry, which means dragging Gladius and his mountainous self out of this castle. Hopefully there’s a back door to this place or something. Enough stalling, so I walk up to his sleeping form, reach down for his talons and—GUUHK!! GAK! Ghk Ghk HWha???
One of those flippin’ talons is around my neck, and he’s, he’s looking at me. W-What?!
“Gutless cur.”
Lifting me up, guh, higher. Harder, breathe, not…
Immediate loss of gravity and orientation as I’m tossed backward and BWAH! Ow, Dammit. Slammed right into the brazier. Gods damned that hurt! Cough my throat back in order, see bits of fuel from the brazier burning in spots close by. And King Gladius standing tall and simmering with fresh rage.
“Think you I would succumb to such underhanded tools? Disgraceful, from what is supposed to be the noblest and most powerful of creatures.”
How?! How in the hell is he shrugging all those tranqs off??
“And you dare flaunt your kin’s flame, just to employ more shameless tactics.”
He reaches down for his axe, and I notice a trail of red running along the yellow the scales of his other talon. Had I cut him with my feet?
“You fetter away the majesty of your own blood for parlor tricks; sully the might of your lineage.” Takes hold of his shimmering axe and rises, as do I. “But the blood of griffons has withstood the trials of the world, been tempered and risen to prominence above other species.” Caresses the edge with his defiled talon. “Rather than fall from our heights, we proliferated far past our equals.” Raises it high. “And our guiding flame has only made us stronger, more supreme than the fallen dragons.” Slams the blade down into one of the fires, setting it ablaze. And as it spreads up along the metal…
“Spawn of dragons, danger to my kingdom, I shall free you from your crippling arrogance…”
Pulls back and swings around his fiery battle axe scepter, stomping into a war stance.
“And show you the calamity that blood and fire can truly wrought!”
This seriously can’t be happening. I must be knocked out. But the fire coming off that thing is way too hot. How is he doing that? What the freak am I supposed to do n—
DODGE!
That frickin’ axe leaves a flaming swath where my head had been but a second ago. I try strafing around as he makes another swing, spewing flame gouts through the air, then spins around to slam at the ground in a fury. Each hit’s like a miniature volcano with all the fire coming up, and it just spreads more of the stuff around the place. Suddenly Gladius rushes at me and swipes at me with a talon, but I deflect it with my sword, only for him to twirl around and bash me with the shaft of his weapon.
Tumble away, reeling from a major burning sensation, but I’ve no time to really recuperate as Gladius is charging towards me. I run right away from his stomps, yet when they fall silent I stop and turn. Really bad move, since I see him raising his axe with both arms, somehow conjuring more fire around the blade before slamming it down in my direction. I leap sideways from the roaring inferno sent my way, and looking up I see it trailing up the wall and over the ceiling. He realizes we’re inside a giant tree, right?
Need to run to cover, get some distance, figure out some way to calm him down. Run around the brazier, bypassing the flames—
Heads up!
Look up, and the king’s flying in like a flaming angel of death. His landing lets off a burst of fire, leaving him untouched whereas some of it gets on my vest. It actually stings; just what the hell kind of fire is this?? Of course the supreme griffon torch bearer won’t let me have a chance to ponder that since he’s back to swinging at me like a maniac. Can’t outrun him like this. Back to speed tactics.
Quickly I chant out and conjure my own fire (definitely brighter) and stab at my feet again to form another Tracer. Before the king can make another fiery swing I dash back in a burst to the other side of the brazier. Temperature is rising quick in here, although only less than half the room (and part of the ceiling) is covered in flames. Get to skating up the far wall and going up the ceiling; must make an attack from above. If tranqs won’t work then good ol’ fashion head trauma should put him down. Begin going in circles up above when something large and fiery slams into the surface before me, forcing me to veer around it at breakneck speed. Just what was—
Coming up.
Whuh?? I crane my neck and see Gladius flying at me, arm held back with his flaming scepter poised to strike. Split second stop saves me from getting smashed in by a bladeless scepter, yet I’m grabbed by an iron talon grip before being thrown violently away. My back muscles take a harsh burning impact as I collide with the edge of the brazier and go tumbling off through the air, over the sweltering flames and down onto the floor beyond, rolling over some small fires. Scramble back up but flinch at the pain running down my side, godsdamn! I spot Gladius landing before me, bracing himself before letting out a furious screech that seems to fuel the flames around the place. He then comes running at me with scepter to bare, and all I can do is lift up my own sword. The rod comes down at me again and again, from above and the sides, and I barely catch each overpowering blow with my own blade, my arms and legs buckling from each deflection. A lion’s leg springs up and kicks me square in the chest, sending me back a ways.
“Writhe in FLAMES!!”
Gladius begins swinging around his scepter, sending out waves of fire at me like sickles (hey wait a second!). I manage to sidestep them, and before he starts up again I cut my palms and make ready my own barrage. This whole thing has gotten insane, but he wants to play with fire than fine by me!
As he fires off his imitation Sliders I send out my own, catching each one before they get too close. But he keeps tossing them out like candy and I can only keep up, our clashing flame bursts splitting off to torch up more sections of the throne room. Suddenly he spins around, whipping off his own off-brand Slicer. It comes too quickly for me to react and I take a blazing hit across the chest. It cleaves through my vest, which sets off the remaining smoke pellets.
I cough and wave at the the grey cloud around me, made dark by the surrounding flames. I stagger forward a few steps before I’m body-checked backward. Push back up, but only for that familiar iron grip to take me up by the neck.
“Pathetic!”
I’m slammed down repeatedly, some head blows messing up my vision. Spots start forming before I’m tossed up, and I just notice that fiery scepter cutting through the dark before—
That was some distance.
Crackling of fires awake me. I’m on the ground. Eyes open up to see an orange blur, but I push myself up. Head’s real hazy. Feel something wet on my snout.
Not looking too good there.
Raise my left claw to my chest. Tender. Right claw is still gripping my sword despite everything. Can feel the heat of the surrounding fires, seemingly rising. Through the haze and the pain, I see… him.
“Your fortitude certainly befits that of your ancestors. But you still haven’t shown me your true destructive capabilities!”
Several yards ahead, standing tall with his weapon held out. Next to the brazier, holding his ground. Waiting for me. Taunting me…
That son of a bitch. Strutting around with that stupid-ass flaming scepter. Regal birdbrain just had to be awake, just had to make it waaaaay more difficult than it needed to be! Not wanting to listen, tossing me around the place, making me look like some kind of damn joke.
You need to get drastic, my boy.
Sputtering all that bullshit about being powerful, being better and all grand and noble and all that garbage. Who the hell does he think he is? He thinks he can control fire? He thinks he can master my element?? He has no idea about how things are supposed to work. How my way works!
That’s right.
“Why dost thou stall? Confront me!”
Keep thinking you’re about to win, asshole. I’m a God Slayer for a reason, and you’re gonna see it.
Make it happen.
Slap my snout, get it nice and damp. Get it over my sword. Why you just standing there? Think you can handle what I got? Alrighty, have it your way.
Get my chant going, let out my flame. Clear up all that orange with some proper green. Yeah, you seeing this? This more what you’re looking for you fat pompous rooster?
Don’t hesitate.
He looks like he’s saying something, eagerly beckoning with his talon. I can’t hear you over the destruction I’m about to rain down on you. You want majesty? You want some calamity? You want to end this and see just who’s strongest??
Kill or be killed.
Then get a load of this!!
“Chartreuse Phoenix.”
All is dark stillness. The brazier’s destroyed; the fires have all been snuffed. My mind is clear, though my body aches. Breathing is ragged. Claw still holding onto the hilt of my blade in a death grip. The unmoving form of King Gladius lies at my feet.
The main doors pull open, followed by the padding of heavy paws. Look over my shoulder, I see it’s four armored guards. No doubt a shock to behold: room in darkness, covered in scorch marks, and their king fallen before a lone, scaly intruder dripping with blood. One with a conveniently held weapon.
An all too familiar outcome, and with it a distant but just as familiar sinking feeling. No burst of purple this time, or words of disbelief. Just silence, shuddering breaths…
And the thought that I may have taken things much too far.
END OF ACT