Chapter 10 - On a Wing and a Prayer
The captain was dead by morning.
The alarm had rung out but all that could be determined is his heart gave out in the night. Handy was suddenly very glad he had opted to stay awake that night. He had stood guard outside Joachim’s door as the griffon wasn’t sure he could trust anyone else and more than once he found himself glancing at shadows and starting at sounds in the night, he had passed it off as his imagination playing tricks, he was dead tired by daybreak afterall. Now however, he could not be sure.
He had voiced his concerns to Joachim, who shared them, but there was nothing to be done as there was absolutely no proof of foul play and they were already so close to the goal of ridding the throne of Geoffrey. They had the rest of the day to prepare, the duel was the following morning. That’s when they found trouble finding a champion. The royal knights all refused to take prince Johan’s side. Well, refused is a strong word, apparently all fifty of the castle’s garrisoned royal knights bar one or two had been deployed to ‘patrol’ the royal demesne that day. It seems Geoffrey couldn’t be too sure one of the knights would take the risk to themselves and their family and fight Johan’s cause. Which presented a problem, duels of all kinds, especially title claims, had to be fought by those of noble blood and martial training leaving Joachim with the possibility of facing the knight alone once again.
His wings twitched, Handy knew they were still injured from the fight on the Equestrian express, he couldn’t rely on them in the duel and he had lost before to Shortbeak, who just so happened to be one of the knights who remained behind. So of course, Ivorybeak, being the sneaky bastard he is, put Handy’s name forward in Joachim’s stead, only telling them after the fact as the human was helping the griffon pick out a weapon in the armoury. Apparently Geoffrey was incensed, disputing the human’s nobility. Which was perfectly legitimate since the human was faking it, to be fair, the country he was from, everyone was directly descended from a king, so he wasn’t entirely lying, but that was literally a thousand years ago and really wasn’t applicable. However, Ivorybeak had went ahead and ‘invested’ some of Handy’s own coinage around Skymount.
Which is how Handy came to be the landlord of two taverns, a mill, three inns, a brewery, blacksmith, bakery, a carpenter’s workshop, ten acres of farmland and the God damn alchemist’s guild. However, despite Handy’s completely understandable reaction to learning someone else spent his money, there was a method to the madness. Handy was already a ‘noble’, so long as nobody probed too deeply and he was Prince Johan’s personal servant, which made him a part of the royal household, and had the look of a knight, unorthodox though he was. Honestly the only thing he was missing was landholdings to cement himself as a part of Gethrenia’s social framework, thereby fulfilling all the requirements to get the human to stand for the prince.
“You know, you should never fuck with another man’s money.” He had growled. Ivory’s spending spree had only reduced but one of his packs down by half, griffon currency being even more devalued then Equestrian bits in the face of pure high carot gold, but it was the principle, you know? Ivorybeak shook his head.
“We’re out of options, we need a knight.”
“I was never knighted.”
“True but you now fulfil all the requirements, and you can fight. Perhaps we can take care of the formality after the fact.” He said, Handy rubbed his eyes, drinking his fourth cup of coffee that morning. He had rubbed salve on his wounds and was thoroughly enjoying the sensation and the fact he had the heavier portions of his armour off for once. “Come on, sir Handy.”
“I didn’t say no.” Handy protested, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair he sat on. “This Shortbeak, what can I expect?”
“She’s probably one of the best warriors in the household guard.” He answered. She. Another woman. So she was a formidable warrior and he was going to have to go against his social programming to fight her back and he didn’t have the excuse of a drug addled mind this time. Joy. “Favours blades.”
“Am I the only one who fights with a war hammer?”
“Outside of the minotaurs and the dogs? Pretty much.”
“Swell.”
“She also favours heavier armour.”
“She has good taste, I can appreciate that.”
“She’s fast and hits hard.”
“Why not.”
“She’s also smaller then you.”
“Who isn’t?”
“This is serious, Handy!”
“I know, its just, I’ve literally gone from fight to fight, sometimes I wish I could just sit back and relax.”
“If you don’t win, that won’t be an option for any of us. Ever.”
“No pressure then.” Handy said, sighing, downing the rest of his long since cold coffee. “I will be honest with thee, my lord.” Handy said inclining his head to the count of Munister. “I will not relish the prospect of fighting her.” He said, his expression darkening
“Yes yes,” Ivorybeak nodded. “One should not take a duel with a royal knight lightly afterall, I’m glad you’re taking this seriously.” Ivorybeak said, nodding. Handy wanted nothing more than to walk out the castle door, board a carriage, and fuck off to some far off tavern. Possibly forever. Its not that he didn’t like Joachim, its that he didn’t like anyone, and Joachim was a friend he guessed. Sort of, kind of, look they regularly insulted eachother and didn’t come to blows, so that counts. However, he did swear by God he’d serve if he broke his promise, and he had been building up quite the reputation, it’d be churlish and cowardly to back out of it now. Whatever he used to be, he was Handy the Milesian now, and whatever that meant.
“I’ll figure something out…”
--=--
So Handy was collecting titles like pokemon. The Milesian being the only one he ever called himself, the Pale One, the Heartless, Dragon Slayer, Hectoir’s bane from his time in Equestria and now Nightbane and Storm Breaker since he arrived in Gethrenia because of his antics on the train with the night ponies and the elemental. He only learned of this overhearing the servants talking as he fetched Joachim’s breakfast from the kitchens. Apparently he was something of a terrifying spectre bound to the prince’s service, he supposed walking everywhere with the jet black cloak over his armoured form with the stark white knotted symbol on the back may leave a rather lasting impression.
Handy could tell you he did not enjoy the looks of superstitious awe he elicited from the staff of the castle and the fact that the average griffon in the street was speculating wildly about what he could be and the rumours of him being a blood drinker fuelling mad anticipation for the upcoming duel, news of which already broke out in the city below and above. He could tell you that, and he’d be a dirty, dirty liar because of it. His concern for the impending fight aside, he really enjoyed the rather sinister reputation he held. Well, not exactly sinister, he wasn’t going about sacrificing virgins to dark and terrible gods in the middle of the night afterall.
However that just led him to his next unwelcome conversation of the day. He was taking back a pitcher of water from the dining room. Johan was there with a few courtiers, Geoffrey was nowhere to be seen. He entered the kitchens and found them surprisingly empty as he placed the pitcher in the sink. He looked about, where the hell was everybody? They were just here a second ago.
“Do you have insecurity issues?” A voice asked. He turned. There was a young griffon standing at the entrance to the kitchens. She was lithe, thin for a griffon and possessed two large wings disproportionate for her size, but she folded them comfortably nonetheless. Her fur and feathers were black, the shadows around her eyes were a soft, deep purple, framing her piercing blue eyes. Her beak and claws were yellow and she had a short plumage of flowing feathers flowing down one side of her head. “Or are you as scarred and horrible looking as everygriffon thinks?” She asked, referencing the fact that the only people in Skymount who’ve seen him without his helmet were Joachim, Hirsild and Ivorybeak.
Handy got the feeling, he should be careful with this griffon. There was something about how casually she walked across the kitchen, reaching for an apple. Handy let out a breath and turned fully. He put down his hood and pulled off his helmet. “Why doth thou not tell me what you think, my lady?” He said. The griffon looked at his face curiously.
“I guess it’s the second reason.” She said smiling as she chewed. Handy frowned at her.
“I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage...” Handy began, although he had a fair idea of who this was. “Miss…”
“Dame, actually. Dame Shortbeak, so you’re the only one fool enough to fight in the prince’s corner?” She said, not looking at Handy. His eyes narrowed.
“Funny, I’d think it’d be an honour, wouldn’t you?” The bird didn’t flinch.
“I suppose.” She said. “I’ll be honest with you, human, I don’t much care for you or your reputation. You’re a flash in the pan, an unskilled sell-sword with expensive armour and no sense.” Handy felt his anger rising. “So I am just dropping by for some friendly advice, drop out.” She said looking at the human sideways. Handy didn’t blink.
“Think of me what you will, Dame Shortbeak.” Handy responding after a moment’s silence. “I do not tout my own horn and certainly make no boasts about my skill. But I will not back down.” The griffon let out a sigh, closing her eyes as she tossed the core of the apple behind her, leaning against the countertop.
“I won’t kill him you know.” She said, “If that’s what you’re worried about, this entire debacle is a shameful display and I’d rather it be over and done with quickly, let the prince fight his own battles and you can go off elsewhere. Not As if you really care.”
Now, you see, that pissed Handy off. First off, because he did not care one bit for the fact that she was actually right, at least as far as caring. Had he not just this morning considered this very option himself? And how did she know? Secondly, she had effectively just called him out, and with a pride like his now he CERTAINLY wasn’t going to back down. Handy figured it was time to do some digging of his own.
“Art thee really so afraid of me that you try to be rid of my presence before the duel?”
“Ha! I fear no griffon.”
“I am not a griffon.”
“Mores the pity, then you’d just might be a challenge.”
“Sounds to me, you want to fight his highness for assurance of an easy victory, art thy feathers so lacklustre you need to find another way to preen?” Handy said, Shortbeak looked like she had just been slapped. She looked hard at the human before responding.
“I am trying to do you a favour here. Walk away. This isn’t your concern.”
“So what does he have over you?” Handy asked.
“Excuse me?” Shortbeak responded, with a slight chuckle.
“Geoffrey has something over everybody here, or at least it seems that way. I do not deal in gossip, but I am sure you know to which I am referring. What’s your excuse? Why are you fighting his cause?” The griffon scoffed at that and looked away.
“I am a knight and he is my liege lord, there is little more to say.”
“Mayhaps” Handy conceded. “Or perchance, he sent you here to be rid of me since he has yet to have that shadow of his take care of me like he did the guard captain.” Shortbeak squinted. “Ah, so he does have an ally of sorts.”
“Watch your tongue, ape.” Shortbeak warned. “Or I will cut it from you.”
“Why should I? Unlike yours, Geoffrey doesn’t have his claw about it in a death grip.” Handy shot, Shortbeak ground the teeth in her beak. No matter how many times the human saw that, it was still weird. “I am not withdrawing, not now, I am still Godsworn to Johan’s service, tell your master that you failed in your cowardice.” The next thing Handy knew there was a ruffle of feathers, a clatter of platters and he was pushed against the wall,the griffon’s claw at his throat. Handy blinked, there was dull pain in the back of his head from where it struck the wall.
“I will enjoy crushing you.” Shortbeak said, Handy had to will himself not to lash out and punch the griffon in her exposed gut. It was not easy.
’No.’ He told himself, once more realising his tongue acted before his mind could restrain it. ’Don’t make the mistake again, Mother would not…’ The griffon’s wings were flared and he could see the rage in its eyes, she was certainly stronger then she looked, Handy came to realise that appeared to be the general rule rather than the exception when it came to the creatures of this world. “I suppose you would.” Handy said, he gripped her claw and attempted to pry it off. “I don’t think you’d find honour anywhere else in the prince’s service-urk!” The grip tightened as her other claw pried his hand away.
She glared death at the human for a long moment before looking away and letting him go. He took in a grateful gasp of air, rubbing his throat. The griffon stalked off without another word, he looked at the door she had left through as he stooped to pick up his fallen helmet. She has a temper and was quick to rise to it.
He’ll have to remember that.
--=--
He had not gotten any sleep again the night before the duel. Joachim’s paranoia was playing up something fierce and he wouldn’t allow any guards other than Handy himself watch over the room. Handy was more than a little pissed off with his nominal liege lord but seeing the way he acted all day, constantly watching over his shoulder, jumping at shadows, staying as far away from windows as he possibly could, Handy supposed he couldn’t blame him.
Worst of all, yesterday there was no meat, Handy and Joachim, and apparently everyone else, had to make do with gruel and vegetables. They were fed but there was a lot of sustenance missing, Handy, being omnivorous by design fared better than the griffons, who he had learned only came to eating vegetables at all barely two millennia ago, largely from the influence of the ponies, their bodies hadn’t adapted yet, he reasoned. Still, he could’ve sworn the kitchens were fully stocked when he had entered them on his first night at the castle…
So lack of sleep two nights in a row, coupled with the beating he got from Geoffrey’s guards, salve or no salve he still had a few aches, and rather unsatisfactory meals the previous day and needless to say Handy was incredibly irritable. Also hallucinating, because he swore he saw a shadow moving on its own down the hallway from where he stood at Joachim’s door. He had shook his head and it was still there, then when he looked away and looked back, it was gone, leaving only an afterimage in Handy’s vision.
So now, Handy was jumping at shadows the morning of the duel. He was running on a legendary coffee binge to keep himself on his feet. His poor shape was mistaken for nerves as Ivorybeak tried to calm him down and reassure him. Nerves? Handy supposed he was a tad nervous on top of everything else. He tried reasoning to himself.
Sure, he wasn’t actually trained at war, sure he only killed the dragon by luck and the grace of God, to which he attribute his survival after the dragon threw him in the first place rather than the kill itself. He supposed he did defeat the minotaur in single combat, but he had no idea what he was doing and just got lucky with his flailing. He supposed he did kick a lot of ass on the Equestrian Express, but honestly, that was more to do with the massive power boost he got from the night-pony blood than any skill of his own.
In all of his fights he got so lucky, it was almost hilarious. This was his first true fight, on even ground against a prepared opponent, a skilled veteran who had already proven she was quicker and, unlike him, had no psychological hangups with fighting the opposite gender. Indeed, to make matters worse, the sky was overcast, threatening rain, there was going to be little to no chance he could use his armour to blind her with the sunlight. His only hope was the fact she favoured heavy armour and thus would not have the use of flight, she used blades whereas his weapon, the war hammer, is literally designed for fighting armoured opponents.
He had applied some of the salve to his arms. Entirely for medicinal purposes you understand, not because he figured he could use the hit to calm his nerves, nope. He put on his helmet as he walked out the room with Joachim heading towards the great hall. Two guards on either side of the great portal pushed open the doors. Handy noticed the guards armour was polished and there were capes about their shoulders in Gethrenia’s colours.
The hall was a sight to be seen, the high vaulted ceiling soared above them, the walls adorned with gryphonic gargoyles and strewn with great banners and tapestries depicting the histories of Gethrenia and its dynasties past and present. The floor of the hall was arranged with seating filled with court nobility and at the far end of the hall, beneath great, tall windows of stained glass, raised up on a high dais where there should have been a throne, sat a litter upon which the sickly king Gerhart lay, seated against pillows and attended to by servants. The king wore a richly embroidered blanket about his shoulders and held a mace in his hand. It was a cruel, old looking weapon, likely an heirloom of some sort.
Handy was pretty sure the king should not go God damn anywhere other than his room when he was this close to death, but he was hardly going to voice objection. One look told him Joachim thought along the same lines and he was keeping his beak shut, Handy followed the example. Speaking of the bird, he seemed woefully underdressed for the occasion. Well, compared to Handy, that was the case with everybody most days, but this was very formal occasion and Handy noted everyone was dressed in finery. He spied Geoffrey on the king’s right side, taking note of the rather noticeable number of servants between the prince and the king. Someone clearly didn’t want their son too close to them at the moment.
Handy took his place at the chalk marked position directly in front of the now closing doors. He felt exposed, standing there for all the world to look upon him, judging. He looked about, he didn’t see-
“Honoured friends.” Gerhart spoke, his voice still strong despite his ravaged body, it carried easily across the long hall. “The right of retrieval has been pressed, with the assent of this most august body and the will of the crown, we hereby acknowledge Prince Johan’s right to fight for title of heir to the Chiefship of Clan Blackwing and the throne of Gethrenia.”
“In opposition, Prince Geoffrey, fights to keep the claim he has won by right of contest of arms.” The king continued, Joachim stood by Handy’s side, not being allowed to cross the floor until the duel had been completed. Where the hell was Shortbeak? “We, Gerhart II, the Blackwing of Gethrenia, by the grace of the All-Maker and his majesty, High King Aleksander I, the Ironclaw of Old Height and the Griffon Kingdom, hereby call the duel for the right of Johan’s retrieval of his title and claim to effect. Prince Johan, have you reconsidered your claim?”
“I have not.” Joachim replied, his voice only holding the tiniest tremble that Handy only picked up on because he happened to be standing beside him. The king seemed to nod, but it was hard to tell behind his shawl. He turned to face Geoffrey.
“Prince Geoffrey, do you surrender what’s yours willingly?”
“I do not, your majesty.” Geoffrey replied, not looking at the king and instead glaring maliciously at Joachim. The king nodded again.
“And do you, Prince Johan, seek to press arms yourself, or does another stand for you?” The king asked, turning again to the challenger. Joachim raised a claw indicating the human.
“Sir Handy of Milesia, my servant, has elected to fight my claim in my stead as my champion.”
“This servant is unknown to us. What is your standing, Handy of Milesia? Be you of fit blood?” The king asked, Handy blinked in surprise, not expecting to be addressed directly.
“I am, majesty.” Handy said, bowing his head slightly.
“And be you proven in battle?” The king asked, Handy reasoned this must be just a public confirmation of the requirements to stand as champion. Well, he’s already lied to the king once, might as well go all the way.
“I am, majesty.” Handy repeated. His mouth dry. The king nodded once more.
“We accept Prince Johan’s selection of champion. Does the claimant object?” The king asked. All eyes turned to Geoffrey who was silent for a time, Handy could almost swear he saw steam rising from his ears. Geoffrey spoke at last.
“I do not, your majesty.” He said. Handy briefly wondered how much of his pride he had to swallow in order to say those five words.
“And do you, Prince Geoffrey, seek to press arms yourself, or does another stand for you?”
“Dame Shortbeak the Widowmaker, of your own royal knights, has elected to fight my claim in my stead as my champion.” Geoffrey responded, a slight smile gracing his avian features. And Handy found out where Shortbeak has been hiding. There was the clatter of metal and people looked up. In the walls high above them hung balconies, a griffon in heavy armour strode forth and leapt from one. The armoured bird dived gracefully to the ground but landed hard. She strutted in a semi-circle before coming to a rest at the marked position directly in front of the king, flapping her wings.
“Oh, bollocks…” Handy breathed. Welp, there went his hope she’d not be able to use her wings. Shortbeak was a wall of bladed metal. Her helmet encompassed her entire head and ran in segmented plates down the back of her neck, her front covered with mail. A long, metal chest piece ran from her stomach up to the nape of her neck, as far as that meant a damn when talking about griffon anatomy. It was just broad enough to allow easy mobility of her arms, which were covered in segmented plates to allow for ease of movement and the shoulder joints had light, rounded armoured plates, symbols of Gethrenia engraved upon them. The edges of her armour shone wickedly, as if sharpened. Her wings were bladed, the primaries shining with long, curved blades running down their length, as the joints where the wings met with her back were covered with more segmented plates. Her claws were armoured and each talon was ensconced in more bladed metal, extending their reach and lethality, Handy was suddenly very glade his torso was so heavily protected, otherwise he might run into the possibility of struggling to keep his guts in. The griffon’s flanks had the most solid looking plates and everything not covered in solid metal was covered in chainmail. Her back paws had shoes upon them which ran into a single point. Her tail was similarly protected as the rest of her, its end covered in what looked like a small spiked ball.
Oh, she had swords too, because there’s no kill like overkill apparently. ’Show off.’ Handy thought, but really, he had no business speaking dressed he was. The gathered audience was suitably impressed by the knight’s entrance. The king nodded once more.
“Dame Shortbeak is known to us, noble knight, do you stand for Prince Geoffrey in this contest of arms?” The king.
“I do.” Shortbeak replied, her voice slightly muffled behind her helm, her expression unreadable. So much for Handy being able to tell if he got her pissed off enough for him to take advantage, that was the least of his concerns however. The king nodded.
“There are no objections, the will of this gathered body has concluded the contest of arms is to take place, let it be known that this will be the last the issue of succession will be brought into dispute.” The king concluded, Handy blinked away the exhaustion, “I deem that this duel-“ The king raised his mace. Handy readied his hammer and shield, shaking his head, Shortbeak raised a claw. “Begins.”
Shortbeak was upon him almost before he knew it. He shifted his weight, moved his foot and dove bodily out of the way. Dodging the downward swipe of the griffon’s claw by an inch. Only to be caught by a wing and was knocked aside as the blade cut across his armour with surprising force. He staggered trying to balance himself as he was clawed again, catching his helmet and cutting the noseguard off. Shortbeak whipped around and bashed her tail mace into Handy ‘s left shoulder before he could raise his shield and she kicked out with her rear paws, the pointed shoes punching through the plates on Handy’s upper arm, cutting through mail and piercing his flesh.
Handy hissed with the sudden pain as he hit the ground, the entire ordeal taking place in seconds. Handy’s mind woke up in an instant, adrenaline and fear kicking in and he rolled instinctively as a pair of claws raked the stone floor where he had lay a fraction of a second before. He raised his shield instinctively and almost had it torn from him with the force of the blow he had successfully blocked. ’Jesus Christ!’ He managed to push himself from his kneeling position with enough force that Shortbeak backed off lest she get a face full of metal.
Only for Handy to be tripped as she whipped around and her tail lashed out, catching Handy in the back of the knee and knocking him from his feet. He hit the ground bodily again and the Griffon was upon him slashing down at his armour. She was destroying him and he knew it. ’God damn it!’ He lashed out by swinging his shield around, Shortbeak flinched to avoid the attack, before laying into the fallen human once more. But the opportunity allowed Handy to get his leg free and he pushed against the underside of the Griffon, managing to shove her off. He rolled again and this time, he was ready for the griffon’s tactic. He raised his shield while shuffling back, resisting blow after blow as he got enough distance to at least get up on one knee. The griffon lifted from the ground in one mighty beat of her wings. Handy struggled to get back to his feet while trying to follow the flying griffon. She flew high up till she was near the ceiling and then dove.
Handy had just got to his feet, turning his head searching for his adversary. When he finally turned and faced the direction she was diving from, his eyes widened in horror. The griffon caught the human fully with the blow from her wing and claws. Handy’s armour got raked by the bladed claws, shoulder armour and primary blades of her wing. For your reference, for those august members of the audience who have had the privilege of wearing armour and the subsequent misfortunate of getting his or her arse handed to them on a joust, of the full force of a sword hitting them in the plackart, you would know just how much that hurts, or how much force was involved. So please consider poor Handy’s situation. He has just got hit by the force of ten swords at the speed of a charging horse in an unholy alliance with Gravity.
Handy was utterly destroyed by the blow. He was flung to the floor and sent skidding across the cold stone, body flailing with the force of the strike. His cuirass in ruination with deep rents across it and rings of silvered mail flying in the air behind him. Handy hit the wooden border of the fighting area to the gasps of various griffons. Handy was stunned, his mind trying to process what had just happened. He raised his head, Shortbeak was standing several feet away from him, and he struggled to get up. His hand was still clasped about the haft of his hammer in a deathgrip, his shield was gone. He hit the hammer’s head to the ground and used it to get up. It looked like Shortbeak was going to let him. A pain hit him in the torso, he reached his hand down and pulled it away. Blood.
Looking down he saw cuirass had great rents in the metal and cuts in his stomach. They didn’t seem to be deep, or at least, he hoped they weren’t, it was hard to actually tell with his armour in the way such as it was. A part of him rang alarm bells, he should be bent over retching in pain right now but he wasn’t. He blocked it out, he was in serious trouble now. ’What the fuck am I doing? What the actual fuck am I doing here?’ Handy asked himself, the possibility of death becoming all to real to him. ’I’m going to die, I’m going to fucking die here!’ He managed to get back, unsteadily to his feet and gripped his warhammer in both hands. He felt light headed and didn’t trust the weakness in his knees. He wasn’t gushing blood, but that was small mercy. ’She’s fucking killing me here!’
He chastised himself. The griffon before him flared out her wings slowly as she raised her claw again. She was about to strike. Handy dropped the hammer’s head to the ground and leaned on the haft, catching his breath, thinking fast. Suddenly his concern over fighting women seemed rather silly. Oh sure, its something he’s likely never going to able to get rid of, not entirely, but here? Now? On the verge of getting shorn in half by those damnedable wings? It seems merely SURVIVING this woman was more concerning then worrying about harming her at all. He was only peripherally aware of the noise around him, the crowd calling out and shouting as the fight unfolded before them, he looked up at his opponent through the slit of his helmet. ’I’m not getting out of this.’ He realised. He stood up straight and hefted his hammer back into his hands, nodding to the knight before him, who was gracious enough to allow him to catch his breath. ’Hope you can forgive me ma…’
She moved and time seemed to slow down. Handy breathed, and with a regretful determination he lunged forward, hammer in both hands, levelled horizontally. He pushed and the hammer head collided with the helm of the griffon dead on. Shortbeak’s swipe lashed down as her head was knocked sideways and scraped down Handy’s right arm, catching the clasps and shearing off the plate of his upper right arm, exposing the chain underneath. The griffon wasted no time and flung around with her wing. Handy ducked, the smallest primary blade, nicking the top of the right wing blade of his helmet. Utilising the momentum he swung up with his hammer and came down, Shortbeak dodged back a step as the human missed and immediately charged forth, Handy lunged with his shoulder and collided bodily with the griffon, negating her swing, her other claw reached below her waist and pulled out the short sword. Handy’s eyes widened as he gripped the wrist of her sword arm with his free hand in the melee and twisted.
She dropped the blade but he got a closed gauntlet punching him in the gut as he let go and the griffon whipped around once more and caught him full in the back with the punching knives of her back paws. It did not penetrate but it pushed him forward, he staggered but swung around with his hammer immediately, uncaring to actually aim. The hammer came down on her right wing as she was lunging and crushed the armour of her wing-arm. Shortbeak yelped in pain and clawed with her gauntlets as she crashed bodily into Handy. He punched upwards with his free fist as they landed, catching the griffon beneath the helmet and in the throat. The griffon clasped at her neck, coughing.
Handy shoved her off of him again and clasped his hammer higher up in the haft and used the head as he punched repeatedly into her side. Shortbeak was forced to get away from him. She jumped back and then rose into the air again. Handy struggled to his feet again. This time, she was fully in his sight as he gripped his hammer in a two handed grip once more. He was not going to allow himself to fall for that divebomb trick of hers again, he honestly could not afford to. He was breathing heavily now as the two circled eachother, her in the air and him on the ground. His foot kicked his shield, but he didn’t move his head, knowing full well she’d strike if he looked away for an instant. It’s what he’d do afterall.
He blinked. He could use that against her. There was a pregnant pause, then Handy moved. He made to look down at the shield at his foot, he heard the clink of metal and knew the griffon was in a dive. He bent over, and grabbed the shield with a hand and with a shout he spun and flung the shield at the griffon with all his might. She was diving too fast to correct her course and was struck in the helm with the shield. Handy dove out of the way as the Griffon crashed into the wooden partition behind him, causing the assembled noble griffons to scream in surprise and fear, scrambling to get away. Handy staggered back to his feet and turned. Shortbeak was already untangling herself from the broken wood. Her helmet was dented, the blades of one wing crooked and bent, preventing her from using it properly. Handy smiled, ’Not so fun when you were on the receiving end, huh?’
Shortbeak reared and let out a shriek, her wings flared as she reached with her left hand, drawing the remaining short sword. She lunged at Handy and swung. Handy leant back and swung with his hammer. She dodged and countered with her free claw, Handy caught the blow on his left pauldron as he spun, dodging a stab of her sword and swung around with his hammer. Shortbeak leapt back and then ran forward. Handy misstepped, was caught with a head-butt to the stomach and was staggered. Shortbeak raised her sword and brought it down, Handy hurriedly raised his warhammer, catching the blade on its haft, he twisted and the sword withdrew before he could tear it from her grip, he swung back upwards and missed her helmet by a fraction as she twisted bodily and Handy got caught full in the side by the spiked mace of her tail. He was forced to one knee.
Shortbeak turned back around and swung her sword at his neck. It got caught in the flared neck guard of his left pauldron, tearing a rent in it but catching the sword, saving Handy’s neck. He turned quickly, pulling shortbeak forward as she gripped the blade. He grabbed her arm and pulled and kicked out with his leg as he fell backwards, upsetting her balance and bringing her to the ground, He rounded on her and punched her in the chest with the head of his hammer, his hand on the upper portion of its haft. Her sword was trapped under the human’s weight and she lay awkwardly on her right wing. She flailed with her rear paws and her free hand.
Tired of taking the blows he stepped off of her and backed up a few steps, she staggered back to her paws but Handy already fell upon her again, his hammer coming down on the small of her back, deforming the armour there and forcing her down on her haunches, she twisted and lunged with her sword, piercing his upper cuirass and pain exploded in Handy’s left shoulder. He really hoped she didn’t severe the nerve cluster there, either way his left arm fell limp, weakly responding to his commands. He had to end this now. He swung with his right hand and tore the sword from her hand and kicked at her at the same time, expecting her counter attack. It was an awkward move and Handy nearly fell from his feet, but it gave him the precious few seconds he needed to correct the momentum of his hammer and bring it back around, catching Shortbeak in the side of the head.
The griffon staggered, but Handy did not relent and swung back around, catching her in the shoulder and forcing her to the ground. She crawled for a moment before rising to her foreclaws again. Handy kicked out and caught her in what would have been her beak and she was knocked back down. She scrambled as he marched over to her and brought his hammer down, clanging audibly on the top of her helm. The griffon went down. Handy caught his breath as he saw her left wing flick a few times and reacting automatically, fearing she’d get up again, he shakingly raised his hammer one handed, the weight almost causing him to drop it in his exhaustion.
“STOP!” A voice rung out and Handy dropped his hammer in surprise. He turned his head about for the source of the voice. The gathered nobility had various expressions on their faces, as far as he could tell anyway, as expressive as they were, it was surprisingly hard to read griffon faces at times. He eventually turned and faced the king. He had his mace raised. The look on Geoffrey’s face was one of barely contained fury anyone could recognise. The king spoke again. “We believe we have seen enough. Dame Shortbeak, are you fit to stand?” He asked. Handy turned, the griffon’s wing twitched but she said nothing, still lying unmoving on the floor. “Do you yield?”
“No!” Geoffrey interjected, his claws gripping the wooden partition tightly. “No she does not! Get up you worthless scum!” He near shrieked. Shortbeak did not answer, the king didn’t even turn to acknowledge his son’s outburst. He bowed his head for a moment before raising it again, only apparent in the subtle motions of the shawl on his head.
“It appears as if this contest of arms has reached its end.” He said.
“No!” Geoffrey shrieked, glaring hatred at Handy. Handy was too exhausted to care as the pain started flooding his body as the adrenaline relented.
“Prince Johan’s champion is victorious, to the victor goes the spoils.” The king announced. Geoffrey let out an avian call and took to the air, rising to the balconies above and disappearing. The king didn’t look as a slow murmur broke out among the otherwise silent crowd. A murmur that slowly but surely built up to a roar as the crowd celebrated the outcome of the duel. Several servants rushed out to attend to Shortbeak as Handy fell to one knee. The pain in his torso now nearly overwhelming, the dull roar of sensation in his shoulder protesting any and all movement of his upper body, including breathing. He looked about, only noticing the thin trails of blood spilt about the floor. It was only in small quantities but it was still too much if the swirling light headedness had anything to say about it.
He gripped his hammer for balance, its head to the floor to take his weight to prevent him falling. The king spoke again but Handy didn’t hear it, his head bowed, he probably looked deferential but in reality he was just trying not to collapse, his other hand pushing against the ground to keep him steady. He was not sure how long he was like that, but when he had caught his breath, he realised he was being pulled up. An armoured griffon guard helped him back to his feet. The king was gone as the last of the servants cleared the dais and the hall. The courtiers and nobles milled about, chatting excitedly. “Sir?” The griffon asked.
“Wh-what?” Handy asked, not entirely clear.
“Sir, we have your armour.” Handy blinked and looked to where the guard was pointing. A young griffon was holding his armour pieces, the ones that were broken off upon the inner side of his shield. Handy blinked rapidly again. And looked around him. He spied shortbeak, back on her feat being attended to by several servants who were busy trying to get her out of her armour, she was not looking at him. He turned again trying to find Joachim but could not see him. “Sir?” The griffon asked.
“Huh?” Handy said, “Oh… Oh right… Just… Take them to…” It dawned on Handy that he didn’t have a room, he had yet to sleep since he arrived, staying awake thanks to the glorious neurotic, socially acceptable drug known as caffeine, helped by an unhealthy dose of raw adrenaline and primal fear. “Take them to the armoury.” He said, “I’ll need to get this… This all fixed. Where’s the prince?” He asked, the guard was about to answer, then turned his eyes upwards, thinking.
“Oh, prince Johan? He’s with his majesty.” He said, Handy had a sudden bout of fear.
“Prince Geoffrey… He can’t be allowed-”
“The king is well guarded.” The guard said. “Geoffrey does not command them anymore, Johan is regent now.” He said. Handy looked down at the Guard, oh hello, there’s the encroaching darkness at the edge of his vision, ahhhh there’s the stars, he’s been wondering where they were, they’re late, he was due to collapse several minutes ago.
“I need to… I need to get to…”
“You need to get nowhere, ape.” Handy turned to the voice. Shortbeak was speaking, still not looking at him. “Take him to a guest room, he’s not fit to stand.” She said. Handy’s anger boiled. Who did she think she was talking about? Handy was fine. Which he had only just thought as his knees nearly buckled and the guard had to stumble forward to keep him steady. Shortbeak tsked.
Handy was about to say something, looking up when he was interrupted again. “You put in a good show, ape. You lack finesse but you got talent, I will grant.” She said, Handy scowled at her, how dare she still be standing!? A servant managed to take the bent blades off of her right wing and she de-laminated the wings to flex the primaries as she folded them into her sides. “You might want to get that looked at by the by.” She said, turning to face him at last and pointed a bladed claw at his midsection. He looked down. Yep, still bleeding. Handy tightened his jaw. “Anyway, thanks.” She said.
Handy was confused. “Thanks?” He rasped.
“You’ll see, just… Thanks.” She said, walking off, her servants following after. Handy was utterly confused by her parting words, but he had little time to ponder their meaning before he nearly collapsed again. The guard, decided he’d follow the knight’s suggestion and half lugged the human out of the hall, he struggled as the mail and cuirass was pulled from him when he reached a pair of medical griffons who proceeded to dress his wounds. He really, really did not appreciate the invasion in his personal space but was far too weak to protest. He had fallen unceremoniously onto another too-small bed as the guard left him in peace. The rain pattering away against the glass of the window as dull light flooded in. It was pretty dark for noon, but that was perfect for Handy, he hated sleeping while the lights were on. He closed his eyes and drifted off into oblivion once more.
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4010236 never played that. i wouldnt know
I love how fast you update! You manage to keep it quality as well.
Did she lose on purpose, to be released from Geof´ servitude ?
Anyway, an idiotic psychopath like him wouldn´t have kept the throne for too long before some "unfortunate accident" would have put him out of bussines. You cannot rule antagonizing everyone, including nobility, around you.
Another exciting chapter leaving me even more excited for the next
Shortbeak x Handy... come on, you know you want to...
4012516 *Politician face* I have no plans to have Handy become romantically involved with anyone at this juncture.
4011251 Good to hear!
4011470 He was clearly drunk with power and he would have lost control eventually, you are correct, but not after he had done alot of damage.
4011549 Not entirely sure about the quality, I have to do at least two to three proofreadings every time I upload a new chapter and fix the formatting so there's plenty of errors to be seen, but I digress, thank you for the compliment and I am happy you're enjoying it!
4012516 SHORTBEAKXHANDY FTW
:3
4615903 shortbeak x handy OTP
She didn't...throw the match, did she?
I'm only twelve chapters in, but I must say this story has already earned it's place in my top five. It's everything that I want from a great story, lot's of action, lot's of adventure, a main character that doesn't just lay down and take shit from others. On my scale of great stories this, to me, ranks somewhere around diaries of a madman, which is probably my favorite story on this site.
I honestly can't wait to see where this story goes in the next chapters in order to, at some point, circle back to that opening scene in the first chapter (great way to draw people in btw, I loved this character straight away for that).
I hope you get many follows, favorites, and likes for this story because so far it is amazing.
Thank you for this story Handyman, hopefully I will be all caught up in the next couple of days.
Well onward to the next chapter!
what if shortbeak joins the adventuring party? He needs a new partner in crime.
4968734 Wow, someone else who likes DoaMM, Awesome. As for the story its about that level of qualiuty
5211218 Oh, hey. another diary fan.
Two words
Lowercase 'as'
In this case it'd be lowercase
'prince' should be capitalized
I need to see Geoffery in agony. I know what was implied, when he had that griffoness dragged away; I am full of impotent fury.
'Kay, so far, Handy's been kicking ass and taking names through sheer luck. Well, not luck, per se, but for a guy from the modern century using a war hammer and fucking plate armor? He's gotten some lucky breaks here and there. That's not to say that he hasn't learned anything either, no no. So when he started to get his ass handed to him by the best of the best royal knight griffon, I smiled. This is someone who has been training and fighting probably their whole life and in comes this guy who has no proper training with heavy armor or his weapon and is learning by the ear. So, yeah. Awesome fight with satisfactory injuries.
7265825 I've got a sneaking suspicion that she did in part let him win.
Than
it's
Missing a space between "each" and "other"
Missing verb
Missing "his"
Too
Corrections:
Handy was suddenly very glad his
Commentary:
I've just decided to make a tally/round-up of all of Handy's titles whenever he gets a new one: Handy, The Milesian, Pale One, The Heartless, (Undead) Dragon Slayer, Hectoir's bane, Nightbane, Storm Breaker.
The fact that handy takes this so badly kinda proves that he does care, he's upset that some stranger got so close to his inner doubts.
And of course his resonse is to dig a hole he can't get out of
And here we see the beginning of the OTP of this fic, which I had honestly forgotten about until now but I can definitely see it.
7265825
That last fight wasn't entirely luck though, based on Shortbeak's rapid recovery she threw the match. Not because of purely incompetent fighting but because she simply chose to stop after taking some decent hits even though she could have continued.
An axe would be better than a hammer, decapitations are so much easier then bludgeoning your enemy to death.
9404666
Yes, but it's easier to incapacitate an enemy without killing them by using blunt force than cutting force. Call me crazy, but Handy does seem to have at least some moral compunction about killing, especially when it comes to female opponents.
Besides, he got the hammer for free.
What the hell is wrong with this guy?
9404666
Spikes, hammers, and flanged maces was The best and efficent types of weapons in later medieval times. An axe, unless on a big pole and aimed at someone flush with the ground would do little to nothing against plate, even chainmail. And you underestimate blunt force trauma... a hell of a lot. And overestimate axes, by a lot.
I am peeved over how effective Shortbeaks blades was... since all but thin pointed blades(meant for thrusting through the chain links of mail) would have been effective. The tail mace would have been her only real weapon. If bladed weapons, like swords and axes was any good against plate... I know just how little you actually feel these things in full plate... which is near nothing. Only thing that ever hurt in it was when the knuckle part of my gauntlets got smashed, making the steel have near flush contact with my knuckles. Nothing broke but my hand hurt for a week. We use blunted forms of bladed weapons precisely because they do next to no harm, at worst you'll bruise, and the hit must be damn perfect for that to happen, and hit your arms or lower legs, there's just no other places that have little enough padding that it goes through.
We also tested if sharpness did anything, a visible scratch was about it.