//------------------------------// // Griffon Kingdom - Chapter II // Story: When Friendship Was Magic // by MrHost56 //------------------------------// Wh-why are you doing this?! Everything... has to be...perfect! No! No stop! It… hurts… Tw- Darling let him go! What are you doing?! “Wah!” I sprung out of my slumber, rolling off the roof and falling ten feet to the hard dirt below. “Ugh, ponyfeathers.” I spit out into the dirt, kicking up a small cloud of dust. I managed to drag myself up into a cross legged position and rubbed my head. I’d woken up two mornings in a row like I’d got rip-roaring drunk…. Oh wait, I had. “Buck.” I chuckled to myself, looking at my hands. They were shaking like leaves. My senses and perception were dulled, my mind black. I wiped cold sweat from my brow, and took deep breaths as I gripped my chest over my heart. Eventually I calmed down, and the shaking stopped. “Alright, let's get a contract.” It was still early morning, and I had a chance to get a good one. I dragged my feet through the back door. Thankfully, Meats had left me the key while I was unconscious. His mind worked in some weird ways. The tavern was so quiet in contrast to its normal hustle and bustle during the day. It seemed I was the only one in right now. I skirted around tables with chairs stacked on top of them all the way to board at the far right end of the room. I leaned against it with one arm as I skimmed over the pinned contract advertisements, looking for something that could last me the next few months. “Let’s see…rabid timberwolf pack...stolen family heirloom...missing Stark family members…” None of them seemed to pop out, at least not cash wise. The biggest pay I could see was around 500 coin("Coin" being the official currency of the Griffon Kingdom). I stood up, threading my fingers through each other and resting the back of my head in my palms, elbows outstretched, and sighed. I closed my eyes and leaned back, basking in the sunlight streaming through the windows. A shadow passed through it. My eyes shot open as they registered the sudden change in brightness behind their lids. I looked over to the small windows high up in the rafters, seeing something crawling across the roof. It was on all fours and had a haggled limp to it. I watched, frozen in my position, my hard gaze tracking the silhouette. It disappeared around the corner of the roof, and I heard a loud thump of a body falling hard to the ground. Next came a bang on the door, the padlock knocking against the old wood. I made my way slowly over to it, keeping my steps light. I pressed up against the door, putting my eye up to a small crack between the boards. Through it, I could see a middle-aged griffon male with tattered steel armor and bandages all over his body. He lifted his head to reveal a feverish face with brownish-red feathers. A necklace of wood charms hung around his neck. “Shit, Teldar!” I ripped the padlock off along with the metal latch, the wood splintering as the nails tore out and my claws put in deep gashes, not taking the time to use the key I had with me. The doors fell open from the weight of the griffon, and he slumped into me as I caught him. “What in Tartarus happened to you? Where’s Geldur?” Teldar was a long time friend of Geldur, a friend of the family. They went on almost every mission together. The fact that he had come back alone, bruised and battered, sent some chilling thoughts through my mind. The griffon took heavy, shaken breaths. “We… We were at the cave entrance… Geldur… He never saw it coming…” He keeled over in a fit of coughing. I rested my hand on his back, “Wait, saw what coming? What happened to Geldur?” Teldar could only keep coughing, but he managed to spit out one word. “Dragon.” For a moment I stood over Teldar, the word festering in my mind. I brushed the muck away. “Come on, get up.” I helped the griffon to his feet, pulling down a chair from one of the tables and letting him drop into it. I walked over behind the bar, pulled out a glass and filled a pitcher of water. I brought it over to him and watched as he gulped down one after the other. “Slow down Teldar, you’re gonna make yourself sick.” Though I guess my warning didn’t matter since he’d already finished off the entire pitcher. The griffon slouched in his seat, rubbing his head. “Ah, man.” His eyes opened wide, as if he hadn’t even been concsious before. He looked around the tavern, and then to me. “Spike, oh man, I thought it was you.” Have you ever been so tired that you collapse and fall asleep in your bed as soon as you hit the pillow, and when waking up, everything felt like a hazy dream? Well, Teldar was like that all the time unless he kept drinking water. No one really knew why. “Yeah Teldar it’s me. Now tell me what happened, is Geldur hurt?” He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “No, no… I don’t know what happened to Geldur… We- we got separated… I came back here… The townspeople, they wouldn’t help…” I raised my eyebrow at the last statement, not that the other ones weren’t important, “What do you mean they wouldn’t help? What town?” Teldar took in another deep breath. “They’re afraid of the dragon, they think they’ll anger it and it’ll destroy their town if they try anything.” I rubbed my head after hearing this. “Well then who sent the contract? And why was it search and rescue?” Teldar looked up at me for a second, as if he was thinking over his next words carefully. “There's some people trapped in the cave. Not griffons. We don’t even know if they’re still alive. Listen, Spike, I know how you’ll feel about this, but just take a moment to think about it before-” It was then Gilda walked out from the back, her eyes falling on the broken-off lock. “Spike what the buck- Teldar!” She rushed over and came up to the beat up griffon, her front hand going over his face. “Oh, god, honey what did you and Geldur get yourselves into this time!” Another thing, Gilda and Teldar are a couple. I’m guessing it’s pretty freaky just to hear me tell you about Gilda acting like some doling wife instead of a hardened badass. Imagine seeing it: going from a brutal warrior to cutsey caretaker in the blink of an eye. Horrifying, I know. “Gilda, I’m alright.” Teldar put a hand on her’s(blegh). “But Geldur…” Gilda’s face contorted in anger. “What happened to my brother? Who’s skull do I have to crack?!” She made a crushing motion with her claws. Teldar put a hand on her shoulder. “Hun, this is a dragon we’re talking about-” “A dragon?! That stupid son of a bitch!” Gilda roared and flipped a chair off of the table in rage. “He’s always doing the most dangerous shit!” The griffon stood there, seething in rage. After a few moments, she began shaking, and fell to her knees. Tears flowed from her eyes and over her feathers. Teldar managed to get up and wrapped his arms around her. “Trust me Gilda, we both know Geldur better than anyone. He’s alive, he’s alright, we just gotta believe in him.” Gilda sobbed into his arms while I sat in my chair, watching and thinking over the chances of Geldur actually being alive after pissing off a dragon. I would be one to know. Eventually the regular crowd started filling up the tavern, and Gilda took the day off. We moved Teldur to her room upstairs, laying him on her bed to let him rest. While the griffon slept fitfully, Gilda and I made plans for the dragon we were going to kill. “Spike, I can only guess how you're feeling about this, how you might feel about killing your own kind-” “They’re not my kind.” I said flatly. I hated most of the dragons I came across. They were barbaric hoarders, who cared only for themselves. But I had also met some very old and regal dragons, ones that still held onto the old code. This one seemed to just be a savage, having gone feral a long time back as he buried himself in treasure. Gilda had never been on a dragon hunt with me though. She didn't know the sadistic pleasure I took in it. Gilda shrank back, nodding. “So you’re okay? You’re good?” I grinned, “I’ll give the killing blow.” The griffon forced a smile, but I could tell that by looking in her eyes, she was concerned about me. In reality, I just didn’t care sometimes. Maybe when I was still naive and living with six ponies, I would actually give a damn about the well-being of something that hurt my friends. Maybe even tried to reason with it. Now I just negotiated with fire and gunpowder.