Chapter 7: Ruthlessness and Efficiency
The time spent travelling to the griffon kingdom of Cloudedge was uneventful and, in Marwolaeth’s opinion, rather peaceful.
Beaker and Spearhaft, however, would have described the journey as a string of racist remarks broken up by bouts of hunting.
Ponies in every town between Canterlot and Shell Beach gave Marwolaeth and his entourage a wide berth, whispering scathing remarks about the griffons’ thoughtless love of violence and how unfair they were being to Equestria and its new resident. At the same time, rumours wove their way through the rank and file of the grape vine, bringing hushed murmurs of Marwolaeth’s cruel and efficient brutality.
Some adventurous ponies attempted to accost Marwolaeth, Beaker and Spearhaft based solely around the face that they were, in fact, not ponies. These dissenters were swiftly put down by the local authorities and interred in the nearest jail cell.
In Shell Beach itself, the speciesm was much less prevalent, as it was a port city and trading hub. Marwolaeth noted a few griffons wheeling about above the town, and spotted a few new creatures to add to his references. He saw sea ponies, minotaurs, naga, sheep, and even a marsupial biped known as the Fauxline due to its feline features. The boat scheduled to take Marwolaeth to Cloudedge was waiting for them at the docks, and soon they were off at sea.
The time at sea was sedate, to say the least. Marwolaeth sat at the bow of the ship for the length of the journey, turning away from the horizon only to eat and defecate. Thus, it was no surprise that Marwolaeth was the first to disembark the ship when it finally docked.
In Marked Hearth, Marwolaeth’s guard count tripled. Six griffons, four of which refused to give their names to the armoured warrior, escorted him through the mountains and crags of Cloudedge, keeping their prisoner well away from the public eye up in the floating eyries of the griffons. The airship that had been chartered had been released of its bonds earlier and gone its merry way. Marwolaeth could hear the guards grumbling about the ‘stupid groundpunder’ and how much easier it would have been to merely throw him to the mercy of the public.
When the caravan finally arrived at the griffon capital of The Lonely City, Marwolaeth finally got his first glimpse of griffon architecture. He observed their walls and structures, nodding at the sturdy stone constructions and cleverly disguised clouds holding the stone in the air. The observant pact servant also noticed the casually lounging military personnel discreetly keeping their eyes on the streets and air space.
As Marwolaeth walked, jeers were thrown at him, along with various rotten fruits and meats. Some especially unruly citizens leapt for Marwolaeth, but were restrained by the guards surrounding him. Crowds of squawking hecklers followed the condemned soldier all the way to the Castle Stoic before they were shut out. Marwolaeth could hear the swelling roars of the crowd still, muted to a dull throb.
After almost an hour of being led through twisting corridors and locked gates, Marwolaeth found himself stripped of weapons and thrust into a dank, cold, damp cell. He wished that he’d been summoned by the griffons instead of the ponies, there would have been much less work for him to do.
The guardsgriffons had attempted to remove Marwolaeth’s armour, but were deterred by the lack of straps and buckles necessary to don and remove such barding, and were hesitant to try and cut the armour away.
For three days and two nights, Marwolaeth sat bereft of food, water and company. The guards stood beside a door outside of the dungeon itself, and no griffon entered the dungeon in the time that the imprisoned warrior lay against the wall of his cell.
Spearhaft and Beaker arrived expecting to find a gaunt, weakened and breaking prisoner, but were met with shined armour, steady voice and a spry eagerness to begin fighting. The eager Marwolaeth was led to the court of King Longrule.
In attendance at Marwolaeth’s hearing were Princess Ironclaw, the guards that the pact servant had crippled, Marwolaeth himself, Spearhaft and Beaker, five bearded griffons, a young male griffon who stood next to Ironclaw, identified as Prince Vanni Newvessel, and King Vanni Longrule himself, a grey and thoroughly well kept cadaver animated by the spirit of a long dead king.
“Ma’volaeth Pydredd.” Longrule rasped through the previous prince’s mouth. “You ‘ave been accuzed of ze assault and crippling of a flight of royal guards and ze princess of ze throne, daughter of my ‘ost.” Marwolaeth briefly wondered how a corpse could produce the growling and gargling sounds required by griffon speech if it didn’t produce saliva. “‘Ow do you plead?”
“Guilty.” Marwolaeth replied with no hesitation.
“Very well.” Longrule held out one claw, which was filled by a scroll handed to the griffon king by one of the bearded old griffons. “Ze penalty for such affronts iz death. You ‘ave sent vord forvard zat you wish to die by ze varrior’s execution. Bring ‘im to ze coliseum.”
Marwolaeth was once again lead through corridors and halls until he emerged on the tamped dirt floor of a rather large coliseum. The convict was directed to stand in the center of the pit while the stands filled with chattering spectators. Some adventurous griffons tossed peanuts and tomatoes at Marwolaeth.
After a short wait, and when the coliseum was filled to the brim, King Longrule ascended to his throne away from home.
“Ma’volaeth Pydredd.” Longrule roared over the crowd. “You ‘ave been sentenced to die ‘ere by ze paws of ze beasts, prisoners and gladiators of zis land! Zhould you survive until zhere are no more foes to face, you zhall be pardoned and acquitted of your crimes, and will be zet free.” The king said this last sentence with the bored monotone of the rote memorization who had never fulfilled this promise of freedom, and never expected to fulfill it. “Chooze you vun veapon.”
A young cub approached Marwolaeth with a large chest. The courier unlatched the clasp and extended the trays and racks from within. Multitudes of rusty, dull and rotted weapons littered the chest, scabbed together by old bloodstains. Marwolaeth picked out and lifted the least worn, indeed nearly untouched, weapon.
A long staff, as tall as Marwolaeth’s shoulder.
The griffon onlookers hooted and cawed in laughter as Marwolaeth gave his staff a few experimental swings while the griffon squire retreated with the chest of weapons.
“Let ze games…” Longrule smirked, baleful fire flickering in his eyes. “Begin.”
Marwolaeth let the magic in his bones suffuse his being, causing the shimmering green lines and runes to burst to life on his limbs as the gates surrounding the wall of the arena lifted.
Rabid, starved dogs lunged at Marwolaeth’s shins. Their teeth splintered and their heads cracked.
Dogs of war, bred and maintained leaped for Marwolaeth’s throat. Their necks snapped with ease.
Large cats circled warily before pouncing through the air. Marwolaeth found that dead cats don’t ever land on their feet.
Manticores hissed and growled. They also twitched and whimpered as their own stingers were turned against them.
Chimeras driven to madness drove forward with reckless abandon. Three heads turned to two, and then there was one, before none at all.
Even a fearsome hydra, shaking the ground as it walked. All the heads in the world couldn’t save it.
Eventually, the assembled griffons grew bored of animal slaughter and cried for the real blood sport to begin. King Longrule made a motion to his courier, who scurried off to begin escorting the prisoners to the ring.
A diamond dog with broken paws limped into the arena. “Rusty is so close!” It whimpered. “So close to freedom! You cannot stop him!” Indeed, Rusty did not stop until he splattered against the arena wall.
A griffon with clipped wings. “Please… I can’t… Not anymore…” His suffering was ended before his sudden but inevitable betrayal had time to come to fruition.
A sheep, sheared of wool and pale of skin. “It- It was either this or becoming food.” His body fed the crows and vultures.
A fauxline covered in scars, standing tall and proud. “Yocasta will come for me soon. I will be here for her, and you won’t leave here alive.” Her broken, battered body lay drowning in a pool of its own lifeblood.
A unicorn with his horn snapped off. “You- You’re from Equestria, right? Celestia sent you to rescue me, didn’t she? Quickly, we must ma-” He was freed from his bonds of life.
A satyr, one very familiar to Marwoaleth. “M-Marwolaeth?”
“Tade.”
“N-not gonna demand to be called Pydredd, eh?”
“No. I do not hold that station for the moment.”
“Dammit.”
Tade was sent back to his clerk work for his master with a split hoof and broken horn.
A naga, strong and stoic. An entire pack of armoured diamond dogs. A human, one of the last of its kind. A kobold, tricky and supplied with gadgets. A goblin, swift and devious. A large spider, fresh out of web.
None of them could do more than scratch and dent Marwolaeth’s armour.
“Chicks and gentlegriffs.” Longrule bellowed as Marwolaeth slid the remains of his last victim off of his staff. “Ze varrior’s execution iz drawing to a cloze. It is time to bring out ze crowd favourite!” Loud stamping echoed from the stands, nearly drowning out the cheers of the audience. “Presenting ze undefeated gladiator!”
A second set of stomping drowned out the audience. Emerging from the shadows was a minotaur, bulky and imposing. His fur was shaved from his torso, and metal plates had been grafted onto his skin in strategically critical places. Over his shoulder, he heaved a heavy battle axe.
“Sure Swing as arrived!” The beast roared in a deep, throaty baritone. “Cower in fear, criminal, for I will be your end!”
Marwolaeth grunted and twirled his staff, unimpressed.
One classic tactic later using the fine vest that Rarity had made, Sure Swing laid with his horns embedded in the wall of the coliseum, his body slumped limply from his broken neck, where Marwolaeth had taken a routine from a satyr not too different from the one he had dispatched earlier, and river danced on his back, albeit in full armour.
The stands were silent, the griffons staring in shock at the implacable man.
King Vanni Longrule muttered to his aide before clearing his throat, coughing out a lump of damp dust. “Vhile zis an unprecedented zituation, ve ‘ave a failzafe for criminals zuch az zis.”
The onlooking griffons muttered to themselves.
A shadow appeared on the arena floor.
“Chicks and gentlegriffs, ve present to you all…”
A soft whistling could be heard from above.
“Ze long fabled pride of ze griffon military and final opponent in ze varrior’s execution…”
A large, purple blur slammed into the arena floor, kicking up all of the loose dirt into a dark cloud. Two glowing, black, reptilian eyes could be seen within the cloud in front of a shadowed mass the size of a house.
“Zteelzcale the Just!”
Steelscale flapped his wings, dissipating the lingering dust screen.
Marwolaeth felt giddy for the first time since he had faced Luna in single combat.
“And just to give ze victim a fair chance…” Longrule chuckled. “Ze fatality law of ze arena is lifted for Ma’volaeth Pydredd! If ‘e can extract a surrender from Zteelzcale, ‘e will be freed!” The griffons all erupted in laughter.
“Marwolaeth… Pydredd…” Steelscale rumbled, his voice as deep and rough as a mountain slide. “Finally we meet.”
Marwolaeth snickered. “A dragon old enough to remember my name, eh? Or is the fear of The Hoard Killer no longer prevalent in dragon lore?”
Steelscale growled. “I will enjoy slowly tearing your limbs off for the insult you have paid dragon kind!”
“I have defeated Matron Skiika. How much better do you think you will fare?”
“Bah. Skiika was a fluke. I have heard the stories. You attacked her while her back was turned! And here, I hold the advantage. Your puny stick will not harm me!”
Marwolaeth glanced down at his dented, bent and broken staff. “Hmm. You have a point.” He poured magic into the remains of the staff. “I suppose that I will just have to…” The knight plunged the end of the staff into the ground. “Upgrade.”
Marwolaeth’s magic curled through the staff and twisted into the earth, reshaping the packed dirt. When he was satisfied, the mighty warrior heaved upwards, tearing a large chunk of compressed earth out of the ground, leaving a gaping hole in the floor of the coliseum. The boulder was shaped like the head of an intricate maul, covered in the same vines and runes that splayed over Marwolaeth himself.
Steelscale growled with the sound of grinding boulders and bolted forward, snapping at Marwoaeth, who ducked under his jaw and slammed his maul into the mass of scales and flesh, sending the dragon into the air.
And so it went. Steelscale swiped and bit at Marwolaeth, scoring his armour and nicking his skin, while the eldritch knight shattered scales and cracked bones while tenderizing the mountains of muscle just below the purple scales.
The griffons cheered for Steelscale and became louder and rowdier with each blow exchanged.
Finally, Marwolaeth grabbed a wing as it flapped downwards to propel a devastating tackle and tossed himself onto Steelscale’s back. The dragon attempted to roll over and crush the pest on his back, but Marwolaeth jumped, propelled high into the air by his magic.
Time seemed to still for a moment as Steelscale and the crowd realized what was to come.
Steelscale’s belly was exposed.
The hammer dropped.
Ribs broke.
Steelscale went limp.
The crowds were silent.
Steelscale heaved a hoarse, shuddering sigh as he muttered a phrase never before heard on the floor of the coliseum.
“I yield.”
“Unacceptable!” Princess Ironclaw, who had been silent up to this moment, screamed. “Kill ‘im! Make ‘im suffer, I order you!”
“He has won.” Steelscale croaked as Marwolaeth jumped off of the dragon’s chest. “He has earned his pardon.”
“Pah. Useless dragon. Guards! Kill zem!” Ironclaw screeched. King Longrule sat silent, the flames in his eyes flickering low.
“Steelscale.” Marwolaeth murmured as the dragon righted himself. “Might I have the honour of knowing your real name?”
“Dirvaka.” The dragon coughed, spitting blood from his mouth.
“A pleasure. Dirvaka, I propose an exchange. Aid me, and I shall ensure that you live.”
Griffons swarmed in the air over the coliseum, covered in ornate yet practical armour and armed to the beak.
“Deal.”
Marwolaeth laid a hand against Dirvaka’s hide and allowed the magic from within his stomach flow. The dragon felt his bones set and heal, and his internal wounds knitting together.
“Unfortunately, I can do little for your less serious injuries, but you will not die, nor be hindered in battle.”
“Many thanks.”
“You cannot ztop uz, Ma’volaeth!” Princess Ironclaw crowed as the legion of griffons swarmed over the coliseum.
“Hold, griffons!” Marwolaeth bellowed, his voice carrying across the city. “With my trial and punishment complete, I am bound by Celestia to kill no being that attacks me!” The griffons began to raise a cheer. “But that merely means that you will receive no mercy!
“You will be left as I left your princess and your elite guards! Crippled, dishonoured, humiliated! What will your chicks and mates do then, when your entire military becomes disabled, and your country becomes easy prey? For make no mistake, strike at me now, and it will be considered an act of war on Equestria, and I will make it my personal mission to hunt down and disable every single soldier in Cloudedge and beyond!
“Your entire kingdom will fall, merely because of the self-entitled brat you call a princess!”
The flocking griffons took pause, something Princess Ironclaw did not like. She cackled madly. “You can’t do anything to my army! Ve’ll kill you and move on to that pathetic little princess who ‘olds your leash! And maybe I’ll pay a personal visit to zose whores who you love so dearly!”
“Eat her.” Marwolaeth ordered.
“With pleasure.” Dirvaka licked his chops.
Ironclaw’s mad laughter was silenced with a swoop and a snap.
“If you fear death…” Marwolaeth addressed the assembled griffons. “Approach me and learn suffering. For if you do not, you will swiftly find that the one you know as Steelscale holds no such oaths as I!”
“Living flesh…” Dirvaka crooned. “It has been so long… I can feel my fire alighting once more!”
“Ah, I was wondering why you hadn’t used your breath against me.”
“They fed me carrion. They’re lucky that my stipend for retaining my position was so lucrative.”
“Stand down!” King Vanni Longrule roared at his soldiers. The griffons snapped their attention to their king before settling on the ground.
“Wise decision.” Marwolaeth smirked. “Know this! Equestria is under my protection! Attacks against it will bring the full brunt of my wrath upon your armies and your people! If that were to happen, I would not handicap myself with inferior weaponry nor dampers on my efficiency!”
A shiver ran through the crowd.
Slowly, the citizens and guards trickled out of the stadium as Dirvaka and Marwolaeth conversed.
“Ah, that was more fun than I’ve had in centuries!” Dirvaka snorted a plume of smoke from his nostrils. “Though I feel that my end of our exchange remains unfulfilled.”
“I agree.”
“Call me, Marwolaeth Pydredd, The Hoard Killer, and I will be at your side to assist you.”
“I would be honoured to have you with me in battle. I thank you for your assistance here as well. What will you do now?”
Dirvaka chuckled. “I will move my hoard to a new home. The griffons will no longer tolerate me here.”
“Yes, about that.” King Vanni Longrule strode up to the pair, trailed by a courier loaded with Marwolaeth’s armoury, which he promptly began to strap on.
“King Longrule.” Marwolaeth inclined his head.
“Vanni.” Dirvaka nodded.
“Pydredd. Dirvaka.” Longrule nodded to them both. “I feel as though I should apologize for my host’s daughter’s behaviour. As the firstborn, she would have been my next vessel had she been male. Alas, the comforts of being the eldest of the royal family with a real promise of life for her future went to her head.”
“I understand, and accept your apology. At least you know better than to tolerate war talk.”
Longrule chuckled. “Indeed, though if only I had summoned Tade earlier, things would be different.”
“And somewhat more exciting.”
“Nevertheless, you are right, Dirvaka, old friend. My subjects will not tolerate you here, anymore. Luckily, we have our old cave still intact.”
“Mm, yes, the one that holds your original body. That will work.”
“Additionally, I would appreciate keeping you on retainer, albeit with a somewhat reduced stipend.”
Dirvaka nodded. “That is acceptable. Let us hope that none of these griffons are still alive the next time I am called upon.”
Longrule chuckled. “Two or three generations should do it.”
The three ancient beings shared a collective chuckle before Marwolaeth turned to leave.
“I appreciate your people and you, Longrule. I truly hope that I will not be obliged to tear this kingdom down and, perhaps when Celestia releases me of my contract, you can charter my aid.”
“One can dream, Pydredd.”
The trip to Canterlot was just as uneventful as the trip away from it.
Marwolaeth realized, upon walking into the castle and being greeted with a party of heroic proportions that he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Somehow, a mouthful of cake found itself in Marwolaeth’s jaw without the visor being lifted. He looked for potential culprits in the surrounding crush of ponies, passing up Twilight and Rarity as potential suspects, until his gaze landed on Pinkie.
Pinkie Pie just winked at Marwolaeth, giggling.
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OP as hell? Check.
Totally backed up and excusable via lore and MC's backround that others seem to lack at times? God damit check.
FINALLY it updated,another good chapter sir
I liked the way you wrote the battle scenes, as exciting as another day at the office. It really fits Pydredd.
Yeah, I think that Marwolaeth deserves to be called a badass by me.
last human? wth? i thought he was a dimension hopper.
4311630 Marwolaeth is, yes, but he's not who the last human referred to. He had to kill one of the few remaining members of the human race in the arena.
4311193 I think that's how all battle scenes ever should be written, they're always excruciatingly boring to me when they describe every move characters make...
Very nicely done chapter. Also loved the reference you made with the river dance.
He is powerful but still the power of pinky is a force to reckon with. For even he doesn't know how works the power of pinky for non can comprehend it's full scope
Positively and thoroughly enjoyable as always. Finally sucked it up and made an account so I could comment on wonderful stories like this one. Please keep writing this to its conclusion, pretty please. Also, if I happened to get off my lazy flank and draw up some fan-art, where would you like me to send it?
4312022 You can post it on deviant art or Tumblr, and then just pm me a link to it. Thanks in advance!
Well, the chapter title really says it all about Mr. Pydredd--ruthless and efficient. I admit this chapter was pretty...grim, and I keep telling myself that all of those creatures that went up against Pydredd were probably criminals in some way, but I admit that this was still kind of sad with how you laid out a small backstory for most of them, and then killed them outright like that (Plus the fact that griffins seem REALLY vindictive makes me think that some of those in the arena didn't really deserve to be there). Oh well, still entertaining!
guys there is no such thing as OP in real life if you want a realistic story. plus its overkill not overpowered
4313131
Until you encounter "Blast from the Past", the Vietnam War veteran who augments his formidable boxing skills by holding contact-triggered high explosives in his thick metal gloves.
On a more serious note, given a setting with the potential for interaction, you can find a way to make a character "OP".
Your setting has magic? This gal uses it to re-build the world to her whims.
Your setting has no magic? This ridiculously fit guy is a master of three martial arts, and can shoot a duck from a mile off.
Your setting has no combat? This gal is drop-dead gorgeous with a heart of gold and the voice of an angel.
Your setting has every character separated except for text? This guy is William Shakespeare.
4311673
The strength of writing combats are not the specific moves made but the emotions that can be described and are much stronger in a written format than a visual medium. Then again, the few stories I've written with combat used guns that made it quick when you have people who know what they're doing with said guns.
4314564
It's alright, I guess.
4315770
The stories not that great.
4315785
Yes. According to me.
I was sure that was obvious.
Any more snide fucking remarks?
4315812
31.media.tumblr.com/ba45fc097f42b1eb41545f6bef954e15/tumblr_mq6xrz3okr1s2s6klo1_500.png
I just found this story and have to say I am not disappointed
4315875 Wow. Calm down.
4318842 Rubbed.
Thanks for catching that!
I immediately thought of Shell City, from the Spongebob Movie.
4317152
No idea!
Sadly my mind is built off references but sometimes I forget the original reference material, I honestly have no idea at this point where that came from but I know that it is an extreamly old reference at this point and quite likely a dead one at that. I still have no idea why I would even know references about typewriters since I am only twenty myself.
For example, did you know that the current QWERTY scheme for a type surface was originally a standard ABCDEF arrangement? They had to change it because on old typewriters if you hit multiple keys in rapid succession it would jam the machining and sometimes even break the typewriter, resulting in having to invest in an expensive replacement. The problem was that on a ABCDEF arrangement people were typing TOO FAST so they scrambled the letters to make it difficult ON PURPOSE! When the electronic format came out they never changed it back because there was never a reason to do so.
I haven't a single clue why on earth I know this or where I got it from but I obviously got it from somewhere because it's just too specific for me to have made it up and I have extremely minimal personal experience with the things.
So yea, if you figure out the reference please tell me where you found it with the reference material and you will be awarded several internets because you would be doing me a service that day.
Thank goodness, she was annoying. Great chapter, can't wait for more.
Its kind of like One Punch Man in how he roflstomps most of his adversaries, but with fantasy.
from just reading the discretion, it sounds like this guy is like the silver surfer
Excellent chapter. Swift and strong, just like the Pydredd. I await for more chapters, eagerly.
4321494 Does he? I suppose I can see the connection, though the Silver Surfer has a lot more freedom than Pydredd does.
Interesting premise, but the main storyline seems to be lagging. There are no looming dangers to Equestria as far as I can tell. Most of the combat seems to be - if not instigated, then escalated by Pydredd.
I'm not sure how he was taken away for the 'execution'. He is under contract from Celestia herself to protect specific people. The moment Celestia required him to leave the kingdom and his charges is the moment the terms of the contract are in danger of being broken. He can't protect someone a kingdom away unless he can teleport and read minds. For better or worse, Pydredd comes across very much as the type of person who would walk away the moment his contract no longer applies.
Motherfucking Wild Card.
4323307 That is exactly what he'd do. He's been doing this kind of thing for an unspecified amount of time (read, too long), and cares for little past his contract nowadays.
As for sending him away, there are lines stating that he won't be held responsible for injuries incurred while he was away, and he was away for two reasons: His contract holder commanded him to do so and so he does, and if he were to not go, then war would ensue, which is much more likely to bring danger to his charges than leaving them in a heavily fortified castle without him.
In regards to his escalating and instigating of fights, yes he does. Because Celestia brought an ages old warrior who's specific use is to kill and/or maim things to a world of peace. The issue will be brought up later, I assure you.
And on the note of later, we're getting to the looming threat part. Patience is a virtue.
Also 4323339
Fuck yeah Wild Card
4327612 I... don't think that I noticed it either.
Care to elaborate?
Nothing wrong with the main character being as powerful as he is, unless the conflicts in this story are primarily physical. At that point, it can easily reach sue territory, or it can result in fights escalating to the point of being meaningless(see:dragon ball z). Hopefully there will be conflicts that legitimately challenge the hero, preferably internal, because a curb stomp isn't especially interesting, nor are heroes who do not have to push their limits significantly.
4329717
See 4319634
SO MANY FUCKING QUESTIONS!
Humans in Equestria prior to MC arriving there and are a dying race? The hell happened to them? Who were all these poor mooks who got eviscerated by Pydredd? What foul sorceries and pacts did King Vanni Longrule do to become immortal ruler of the griffons, sacrificing the lives and possibly souls of his first born heirs to do so? Necromancy? And literally nobody bats an eye at it? Pydredd was in this world before? How old is this guy? And what Welsh gods did he piss off to become the walking manifestation of death and decay that he is? (alternate interpretation of his name's meaning could just be 'Ruination', which would be more apt.) Or was he just a welshman who pissed off some fantasy expy of the G Man?
One criticism I have is regarding Clestia's characterisation, or rather, the lack thereof. Pydredd does some shit, is brought before Celestia, she does the bare minimum to deal with it and they leave eachother's presence like nothing happened. Curt, professional and business like, it gets that impression across well enough but it reads off as if by rote rather then there being any real tension between the characters.
4398626 SO MANY ANSWERS!
In order: Yep, humans are an endangered species, as is befitting a race of semi-prey animals with little to no natural defenses in a world with other intelligent species. Humans aren't really an apex predator, we just knock down the biggest threats, but when those threats are other sapients who can think around and counter strategies, humans become pretty weak and helpless. The poor mooks were prisoners of the griffons. I take the Far Side approach to characterization: One shot characters with a name and backstory that's never explained and never seen again. Same sort of thing with Vanni Longrule because I thought it was neat. I might do a fic on him later, or I might not. Nogrif bats an eye at it because that's the way it's been for generations, it's all they know. Pydredd has not been to this world before (as far as anyone knows), but is older than dirt. He was making conversation with a fellow semi-immortal/undying being, though I might want to go back and tweak that scene to make it a little bit clearer. Nobody knows what gods he pissed off, or even if they are gods; they are simply referred to as his Master, who puts his prodigal skills to use.
As for the Celestia criticism, thanks! I try to keep it as a business relationship where Celestia is sorely disappointed in her choice of hire, but knows that it's exactly what she paid for. However, he patience has an end, and will be reaching the end of it soon.
Thanks for the good questions!
-Note, about 80% of my writing has situations like Cloudedge: Here's a civilization, it's neat and interesting and it's gone. Oh, you wanted worldbuilding? ...Meh. I try to think of the inspiration for that style and keep coming back to early Homestuck, which was completely bonkers with no explanations given whatsoever, and subconsciously decide to troll people who read my stuff by emulating that.
4399303 Most humans, I agree are pretty pathetic. However, proper examples of humankind kick ass. My idea of a proper human is one with an undying spirit and an indomitable will to survive, or if failing that they'd gladly make certain their enemies have scars that will forever remind them of just how strong humanity really is. We don't have natural defences because we are capable of making defences that exceed nature's capabilities. For every drop of blood lost they'd spill gallons of the other guys'.
In ignem inextinguibilem vobiscum!
4443112 While that's true of most humans, but I'm probably a bit more pessimistic in that regard. I like to think that in a world where humans aren't an apex predator would be a sucky one for human kind. Especially if it's full of violent peoples that subjugate other races in order to stay on top. Maybe there's a hidden civilization of humans in this world free from tyranny ('Murica!), but they'd probably have to keep themselves on the down low, lest they draw the ire of other kingdoms looking to steal their ingenuity.
But that's beside the point. I pose the question: Would a shining example of humankind have gotten himself imprisoned and forced to fight for the entertainment of others? I think not, he'd have gone down swinging, going out the way he came in:
Bloody and screaming.
4443416 Que obligatory William Wallace.
Momomom-Monster Kill!
Brutally efficient and beautifully Written a favorite of the highest standard.
Wait... is that Satyr a certain "Lucky" Satyr from the "Chess game of the Gods" fanfics?
4665373 Maybe... >_> But yes, and in fact Wild Card was one of the fanfics that inspired me to start writing. I'd actually started on a Chessverse fic, but the application process was weird and they haven't updated who's a mod and who's not, so it became lost in developmental Tartarus. Probably for the best seeing as how I can't seem to write anything past halfway without losing motivation, so meh.
5156728 No, I actually really like them, or hearing them anyways, reading is a little annoying though, but I am aware that it is the only way to show the readers how they speak, and that I probably should just get over it, because it really isn't a big problem in the end.
5477199 You look like someone who doesn't understand timestamps.
5482680 yep.
Stumbled upon this story and I have to say I am thoughroly enjoying it...tis a shame (as with most stories I actually like) it will go unfinished. But I will at least track it incase one day it is. Kudos though I suppose for what work is done!
6138924
Scrivener Blooms. From the I forget what it's called series. That guy never stops writing. I like those stories, though I'll warn you that they're not without their own problems.
If you want a link to the first one, here:
http://www.fimfiction.net/story/48755/moonrise
6140679 I know
Random picturedeedeekid.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/random_hotdog.jpg
6250215 Curses 'pon thee, knave! Thou hast ruined the symmetries of thine author's tale of chivalrie most awesome!