Dragon's Descent

by Compendium of Steve

Prologue ~ 'As though on repeat...'

A legacy of blood and corpses…

Their rotting forms flicker all around, too many to count.

Darkness covers everything, rife with the stench of decay and misery.

Only Death resides, its Herald standing above all else.

Primed to strike… Ready to Kill…

---

My eyes snap open, breaking me from my impromptu snooze and letting me scan the blurry scenery, a constant wind buffeting me. I spot my shades dangling close to my face, and I reach out my free claw to take them. As I adjust them back atop my schnoz, I remember that I’m falling to a canyon floor hundreds of feet below amid a cloud of splinters and other debris… while upside down. I move my arms to orient myself back upright (though at the cost of having wind blow up into my clothes), just in time to spot a massive chunk of charred wood coming my way.

I bat at my side to move out of its fall, watching as smaller pieces of airship drop by along with a few bodies. I lazily glide myself amid the rubble, hopping off the occasional barrel or body to keep my elevation. As I’m thinking up a way to get out of this, a possible solution/unwelcome sight comes screeching at me. Flicking my right arm I bring about my sword to deflect the halberd being swung my way, powered by swift thick talons. I deflect the next lightning-fast strike, then do a back somersault to dodge the wide slash while also kicking away their weapon, leaving me to only face a plain muscular, armored griffon with razor-sharp mitts.

He thrusts a talon at my throat, but I duck while also grabbing his scaly arm, forcing him to flap his wings to compensate for the extra weight. He barely has a chance to start cursing at me when one of his buddies swoops over to lend a hand with a sword. I parry my own blade against his while keeping my grip firm on my unwilling parachute, and just as I’m getting into this weird exchange a ballista shot catches my opponent in the chest, leaving a squawk and some stray feathers.

Next thing that (literally) hits me is the front of an airship balloon which collides into me and my feathered chum. We tumble along the top of the balloon for a bit until my grip on his talon is twisted loose. I try to get up, but get bounced off when a pegasus drops in to do battle with his own blade. I’m go for another fall, but much shorter this time as I grab onto a support rope and slide my way down the side of the airship, stopping just short of the rudder. And of course it’s barely a moment of peace when an enemy cannonball blows out the back side of the ship, and me with it.

A tumble through not-so-empty air, as all around me there are pegasi trying to hold back the incoming griffons, as well as a few unlucky unicorns and earth stallions screaming to a messy death below. Luck would have it I’m heading straight for the deck of an airship, but after hitting and rolling up onto my feet onboard I step forward to bring up my sword to fend off a burly boarder and his mace. The momentum of my landing makes me stumble and I trip sideways with my next step (leaving an opening for the stallion behind me to drive his spear past). I spin clumsily so that my back hits the railing, but a stray helmet beans me in the snout and, wouldn’t you know, it sends me right over.

Once again I’m overboard, yet it’s only a few seconds of free-falling before something firm wraps around my free palm. I take hold of it, finding myself being airlifted by a set of sturdy pegasi wings. The guy maneuvers us through the hell storm of weaponry and aerial melee, bringing us to an airship that’s not being accosted (so far). I let go the moment there’s at least a six foot radius of solid wood beneath me and let go, falling roughly onto my rump while soldiers gallop about yelling orders over the racket of battle.

“For a slim guy, you’re pretty heavy.”

I look leftwise to see the pegasus responsible for catching my dragon butt. Golden lightweight armor, white fur, a yellow tuft of a mane waving free from the lack of a helm. None other than Daybreak, to my surprise. A little worse for wear than when I last saw him (like five minutes ago), but still a whole hell of a lot better than the others who were aboard that ship.

“Holy crap, you’re still alive?”

“I wouldn’t be much of a captain if I wasn’t sturdy enough for the job. Besides, the wife wouldn’t have let me die without her permission.” He flashes me a smile, even with a frickin’ air battle going on.

“Ha, I suppose not. Just that usually when I’m in an explosion, everyone else but me dies.”

“Us flyboys got much tougher since those days.” He looks toward the prow of the ship, which cues me to get off my ass and look like I have a purpose in this mess. The flyboys are indeed doing a good job keeping back the oncoming rabble, but the sky is still a mess with cannon and ballista fire, some of it coming from the ship we’re on. In the distance, I can see the distant fires of the enemy fleet.

“Gotta give ‘em this: they got us pretty good,” he remarks, to which I nod.

“Yeah. Definitely makes a mess of things. So what’s the plan?”

“We keep going ahead for the checkpoint as before, or what’s left of it. It’s dead ahead, where I imagine our forces will be needing some extra reinforcements. I’ll go rally the other captains to start descending so we can avoid those warships. Get more of our own troops on the dirt so they have a chance to tussle.”

“That sounds good enough to me.”

I look around, and an idea springs to mind as a grin creeps up my face. I turn and leave Davy shortly before he asks, “What are you gonna do?”

“Level the playing field a bit. I’ll catch up down below.”

No doubt he’s smiling at seeing me jog over to one of the loaded catapults. I hop up onto the boulder and crouch down right as the grenadier releases the catch, giving us immediate lift off. I hold tight as the rock and me soar away from friendly skies and into the enemy’s.

Once into the enemy front I kick off the boulder, redirecting it down into a griffon who figured (wrongly) that staying low would be safest. I glide headlong through their ranks until one rises up to face me, but I just take hold of his arm and swing myself down and up to gain some height. As I'm flipping upward I brandish my sword to deflect a trident while kicking at the beak of a sneaky birdy trying to catch me from below. Mr. Trident follows up to the top of my arc, but I bring down my sword with both claws to split his helm (and some of his skull, no doubt).

Two of the buzzards fly up to challenge me, but I break into a dive kick to bounce off the lead’s head. Fly through the air, bounce off another griffon’s back, slice off the wing of one in passing, and hold position on the back of a third so I can get my bearings before springing off in another direction. Skip my way over some griffons, and punch one in the face for good measure before flipping around to plant my feet into the canyon wall.

I waste no time kicking up my footsies to maintain momentum and keep horizontal. The enemy warships are coming up quick, and I make a slit on my palm for my next maneuver. Start breathing out onto the blade, get myself lined up juuuuuust about right, and… Malachite Piston’s away.

Blast away from the rock wall, twisting around to deliver a drop kick into the side of a griffon’s face with enough force to pretty much liquify anything above the shoulders. He launches off and blows through about a dozen other griffons, making a finer mess of things as I fall down onto the upper warship. I hit the deck hard, and they’re kind enough to have a welcome party waiting with all kinds of lovely sharp gifts to offer.

A spin of my sword and I go at them, slicing past whatever blade or talon comes my way. I lock steel with one towering griffon and his twin daggers before hearing the twanging of a crossbow. A bolt nicks my shoulder before I disengage and deflect the next two, the sting refocusing me back to the task at hand. I belch out some fire to put some space before me to do a backflip toward the front of the ship. Once in position, I spread out a quick coating of blood and fire before planting my sword tip into the wood and letting loose a Jade Slider straight ahead through the deck.

The fire wave tears up much of the deck and, more importantly, destroys the central masts, sending gears and propellers falling all around. The ship starts tilting portwise, and whatever birdies haven’t been blown away take flight. Steadying myself, I look over to see a warship below trying to take evasive maneuvers, but I have something else in mind as I leap off.

On the way down I grab the back of a fleeing griffon’s head, and with a good couple of spins I fling him downward into the uppermost propellers of the lower warship. The impact’s enough to break up some of the blades and cause the ship to stutter in flight (while making a mess of the feathery schmuck as well). I hit the deck in a kneeling position, but quickly get up and leap backwards as the ship from above crashes into the broadside of its unlucky compatriot, with torches from above landing and setting off a good blaze. After several meters I land on the prow of a third ship that’s doing its best to get away from the catastrophe happening overhead.

Some wood planks and a cannon drop down from above and tear some holes in the deck, but I decide to help out by prepping a Jade Slicer. Yet as I’m about ready, a griffon dive bombs me from above, knocking us clear from the ship. I tumble a bit before he comes back around and grabs at my sides with his talons, no doubt looking to rip me in half. I elbow him in the beak a few times before he lets go, which gives me enough time to angle myself and let off the Slicer that blazes through a few lines of griffons and shears off the front of the warship with a booming crack.

Then I feel those talons taking hold of my head from behind, those pointy tips looking to gouge my eyes out. Though he hadn’t considered that my shades were unbreakable. Nor did he take into account that our size difference gave my right heel a clear shot to his nuggets. Turns out they’re armored, but the blow makes him loosen his claws enough to allow me to spin around and plunge my sword through the opening in the side of his chestplate.

He squawks up some blood as I plant my feet onto his chest, riding him down to the canyon floor. I do my best to steer through the other griffons and oncoming friendly fire, all while my “buddy” claws at me to knock me off with the remainder of his strength. I give him a few punches to keep things steady, then brace myself as we make ground fall. My griffon landing board plows through several yards of dirt before I pull out my sword and spring up and away from him.

I break into a roll upon hitting solid ground, then pushing myself to a stop I stand up amidst the clattering of armor and the yelling of the battle-crazed. Looking around, I see our ground forces charging at the oncoming griffon land invaders. Barely taking a breath, I charge right along with them.

Around me there are stallions tossing spears and unicorns firing off spells and arrows. One unlucky mage takes a spear to the neck, and a griffon divebombs an axe into another stallion’s back. No time to worry about them as I approach my own set of eager aggressors. I give them a proper hello by bringing my sword around to slice off a talon, then another's throat and another's exposed waist.

A crossbowman some yards away takes aim at me, but a hunk of flaming wreckage crushes him, signalling the arrival of my early work onto the battlefield. Ponies and griffons alike make way for the debris while keeping up the fight, but I keep running forward. One griffon ahead tosses an axe at a flying pegasus, but I spring up to catch it, flip and fling it right at the sweet spot between his beady eyes.

It's utter pandemonium. Soldiers on both sides giving battle cries, aerial skirmishes raining down feathers and flesh, the screams of the dying filling the air. Ponies getting cleaved, griffons getting blasted by magic, and some of our Diamond Dog troops grappling bare-pawed.

It's mayhem I've been through before, but even as my own countrymen are getting slain and death is raining from above, I'm getting some of that old sick thrill. Such a long time since I got to cut loose to such an extent, and I’m clearly not the only one. Civility has taken a vacation, and wanton violence is the house-sitter.

That dumb analogy in mind, I bare my pearly whites and charge headlong into the grinder, straight at the maw of devastation, intent on leaving a bloody swath of feathers, armor and lion meat in my wake. Oh beautiful day.

Author's Note:

And so it begins... again.

Comments

[Pyro The Reader]

Good to be back!

[Oneyearwarpilot]

Oh shit here we go again

[Compendium of Steve]

8063275
Indeed. Mweheheheeh.