Dragon's Descent

by Compendium of Steve

Act 1 Verse 5

Act 1 Verse 5

Already In Progress

The original plan for the defense force was to gather at the mountain checkpoint, build fortifications and hold out against the griffons for the foreseeable future. Yet it was apparent that said griffons arrived at the checkpoint way sooner than expected and overran it with hardly any resistance. The initial shock allowed them to gain nearly a kilometer of ground, but our troops sorted themselves and began pushing back by the time my ship arrived on the scene, and we pushed even harder once I joined the fray. Some ten minutes or so after I made landfall, one of our ships took critical damage and was coming down fast. However the captain, bless his crazed suicidal heart, stayed amidst the fires to steer his dying craft sideways into another flaming piece of wreckage on the ground, smashing up a lot of ground griffons and creating a formidable wooden barrier that separated the enemy’s ground forces, effectively clogging the canyon floor.

This barrier became the new command base, serving as rally point for our troops to dig in and a place for our airships to hold back the diminished (by yours truly) enemy fleet. I had spent an hour mopping up the stragglers still caught on our side before heading to this temporary base of operations, the canyon having gotten much darker in the interim. Scaling the planks and fresh footholds made by other soldiers, I hurry up to the top where the observation/firing deck was to be. Huddled against the wooden cover are several soldiers: two Earth ponies, a pegasus and a unicorn, looking tense and with their armor and fatigues tarnished or missing assorted pieces. To my pleasant surprise there’s also a light blue minotaur armed with what looked like a custom crossbow, and wearing some shoulder pads and a bandolier lined with what I guess are large explosive arrowheads (nice). I slide in and get myself cozy next to a grizzled-looking olive green Earth pony while spears, arrows and battle axes come flying overhead.

“How's it looking up here, boys?”

“Well if Hearth’s Warming didn’t come early this year: the Guard Killer himself has come to the rescue. And that's Major Buckler to you, scaly,” greenie grunts back. “The weather's just peachy. Enjoyed your frolick in the garden, I take it?”

“Oh yeah. Chased off some pesky birds, but otherwise it’s been swell. Also it was hard to tell your rank without the insignia, so forgive me.”

“Blame it on the damn griffons; they literally clawed most of my armor off. They fight like maniacs.” He shifts himself against the wood before saying, “Let me introduce you to the rest of my team. This here is Ensign Patchwork, a medic from my squad.”

He points to the pinto next to him, who I see is clutching a first aid box. He heard his name and, looking to me, he shyly waves.

“Over there is Corporal Quiver from the Eighth Archery Division,” he indicates the unicorn loading up their crossbow with a turquoise aura. “The pegasus is Downwind from our aerial escort group. And this darling bull of ours is Sergeant Dominic. Bit of a pyromaniac, he is.”

“Pyro-appreciator, thank you,” the minotaur corrected. “For all your sun-worshipping, you ponies have very little regard for the beauty of flames.” He looks up from his cover and lets off one of his arrows, filling the air with exploding gunpowder and agonized squawks. “Though seeing all the torchbearers on the field, I have to say the griffons have quite the affinity.”

“More than that, I say,” Quiver shouts over. “They’re real nasty the closer you get to those torches of theres. Literal beak and claw at that point.”

“What happened to the rest of your squad?” I ask the major before I’m forgotten.

“Some of them are holding up inside the wreckage, the rest I don’t know. Scattered, probably dead. I’m more focused on getting these grunts, mages and fly boys to work together in holding back these crazy vultures. And I say we’re doing a fine damn job, all things considered.”

“Yeah, it seems to be. So you’re managing this by yourself?”

“Negatory: got a few officers keeping things in check below, directing and keeping everyone’s collective shit together. Though it might not mean much for too long, with griffons battering at the doors and a fleet of airships ready to bombard us at any moment. That is if Goldilocks does a crap job making sure our own ships keep theirs busy.”

A light flapping sounds out, and dropping onto what could charitably be called a “deck” the ever diligent and seemingly tireless Daybreak lands in our midst. Looks the least worse for wear out of all of us (except for me, cuz I’m just that good).

“Well speak of the devil,” Buckler gruffed with a grin. “You finished up your errands, pretty boy?”

“We got all the troops we could unloaded, so whatever firepower we got is focused on holding back their ships.” He turns and registers me with a nod. “Looks like you finally caught up. Been keeping busy?”

I nod back, holding up my sword. “You betcha.”

“So Dave, you still wantin’ ta make a push for that checkpoint?”

“I don’t think there’s enough soldiers for that, Buck. We should hold out here till more reinforcements come along.”

“And how long is that gonna be? You see how many buzzards we got swarming down there? This love nest of ours isn’t going to hold for more than an hour if we’re lucky. Or until their ships get wise and send some cannonballs down our way.”

“They look to be more focused on what’s in front of them, sir,” Downwind points out.

“Oh yeah? How bout going up there and asking them if they’d be so kind as to flock off for another half a day. Better yet, maybe have them fire at their own troops, or crash on top of them.”

“Lay off him, Buck,” Daybreak steps in. “It’s not the best of plans, but we just have to hold them back until we get the necessary horse and firepower.”

“If I had thought of bringing along my mixing kit, I could’ve had a nice firewall set up,” Dominic grumbles. “Give those griffons something to think about.”

“And risk getting us cooked in the process,” Patchwork whines with a shiver, which makes his superior officer grunt in distaste.

“Unless those ships of yours are packing something super special, this thing will be coming down and we’ll be overrun by screaming feathers and really fast, sharp talons. I hope you’ve been working on your spear-handling.”

For all his complaining, he has a point. This wreck isn’t meant to withstand a siege, and way sooner than later this stalemate will tumble over and everyone’s gonna be neck-deep in griffons once more. I’d get worn out before I could cut through half of them, and there isn’t anyone around who could keep up and help (not anymore). And there are those warships that’ll make things even bloodier for those on the ground. How exactly can we take down both those and so many…

Idea. More a last resort one, and it’d do the job in the messiest way possible. Yet that doesn’t stop a devious grin from creeping up my face.“Hey fellas, you remember six years ago? When we were fighting the changelings?”

“Yeah. Those things creeped me out way more than these griffons,” our unicorn archer responds.

“You remember how it all finally ended?”

“You killed their queen. It practically became a holiday,” Daybreak answers, but Major Grizzle scoffs (almost spits).

“I enjoy reminiscing about my glory days as the next guy, purple cheeks, but this isn’t exactly down time in the woods given the dire lack of alcohol and marshmallows.”

That actually does sound like a pretty fun time.

“But you know what happened right before I got to kill the queen?”

“What in the sam hell are you going on abo…”

I see the realization lighting up in them one by one. That just makes me giddier.

“You mean you could do that, like, at will?” the medic nervously asks. Can’t blame you, buddy.

“Yeah I can. And I think that’ll be ample enough ‘firepower’ to give these griffons second thoughts. Maybe even knock those ships out of the sky in the process.”

“But we’d be at risk too,” Daybreak points out.

“Not if I go running in the opposite direction,” I tell him before I begin stripping down. “Just cover me while I change. And none of you better nick my stuff!”

“Don’t worry about your precious clothes and sword, dragon boy,” Buckler grunts his assurance. “Just go raise some hell for us.”

“You got it.”

Folding up my clothes and putting them down, I place my shades and sword on top of them and get to preparing. Greedy thoughts are what I need to trigger a transformation, and that usually defaults to thinking of food. I’m not feeling peckish thanks to the food I had on the flight over, so that just leaves the alternative: Lust. Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift to Canterlot. Warm, quiet nights. Me and my plushy unicorn diva. And…

Blank. Damn; all this killing and adrenaline is making it extremely hard to get in the mood (shocking, I know). No way I’ll be able to find some place private to work up a vivid tapestry; time is getting incredibly short for all of us. Gonna need some help.

“Hey fellas, I need you to do me a solid real quick.”

“Oh what? Need us to hold your will or something?”

“I need you to tell me what you find sexy about Sweetie Belle.”

“What? The singer?” Quiver asks, noticeably off-guard by this random topic shift.

“Yeah. It’s really strange and awkward, I know, but it’s very critical that you fill my head with lurid details, otherwise we’re done for.”

“I find that really hard to believe.”

“I understand, Daybreak, but it’s the truth. So help me out here, all of you.”

There’s a bit of an uncomfortable pause as everyone gives strange looks to one another. Oddly enough, the minotaur is the first one out the gate.

“She’s a little skinny for my preference. I like her mane style, though. Wavy, like a multi-hued flossy ocean.”“Real poetic there, Dom,” remarks Quiver. “But I like skinny: means she’s gotta be all kinds of flexible. Legs as slender as hers, I wouldn’t mind licking salt off them any day.”

“Thanks for that image, Quiver,” Downwind deadpans. “Though those are a fine set of legs on her for a unicorn. And she’s a natural cutie, too. Not all glammed up like those other singers. And that muzzle of hers, mmmm. Real kissable lips, is what I call them.”

“You think her being a singer would mean she’d give phenomenal blowjobs?”

“Most definitely, dude.”

Actually you know what, no. This is far too weird.

“I don’t think it’s working, guys. Could you talk about someone else?”

“Like who?”

Everyone looks up in thought, and it’s our fair archer who restarts the conversation.

“How about Lily Dusk? She’s real nice.”

“W-what??”

“Have to admit it, Dave: that wife of yours has some mighty fine assets,” Buckler asserts.

“With emphasis on the ass.”

“Really, Downy?”

“Thestral mares are already exotic and sexy as all hell, but with Lily? Woof!” Patchwork speaks up, participating at last. “Those wings never looked so good. I can only imagine how they feel.”

“Prehensile and leathery smooth. I can imagine plenty, huhuhu.”

“Lily is a feisty one while out on patrol. No doubt she’d be the same in the bedroom.”

“The dominating type for sure, major.”

“The fangs really add to it. I’d be down with her talking dirty while flashing them beauties, eyeing me like some prey in the night. As long as I got to rub my hooves along those luscious flanks while she’s on top.”

“The curves on them, too. Pure excellence.” A stomp rings through the air, and I catch sight of Daybreak not looking so friendly.

“That’s my wife you’re talking about! The mare who is carrying my unborn child!”

That got everyone to shut up real uncomfortable like… for a moment.

“...That is totally my fetish.”

“Seriously, Patch!?”

“I find baby bumps sexy. I’ve always wanted to rub one all sensually like, listening to a mother coo. I imagine they’d be sensitive.”

“I don’t know about, but you have to admit that it’d certainly add more cushion to the pushin’. Nothing wrong with some extra plumpness on an already sexy mare.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking hold of some bubbly pony backside,” Dominic says. “Pregnancy has always accentuated the female form among my species, and I can imagine it’d do the same with ponies. Particularly with the teats.”

“Oh man, don’t get me started. My mouth’s starting to water thinking that. So big and begging to be fondled while simultaneously smothering me—”

“I mean really guys!”

“That did it!”

I dash forward and hop the wood railing, images of lascivious, feisty, fat-bottomed bat ponies filling my head and heating my core. Three stories down I hit the ground running, weaving past two lines of confused griffons. The next line a feathered thug lunges at me, but I smack him aside with an enlarged arm. I hunch forward and feel my bones cracking as more griffon warriors come at me, and then my focus blurs as I take the major’s advice and unleash the demon.

Been a very long time since I got to let out my raw inner dragon, so of course there’d be a great big roar to say hello to my many feathered friends. I barely hear the distant cries of many beaks, mixtures of surprise, fear, and even anger. It’s their funeral if they think they can take on this mountain of draconic might.

Stomp my way through the ranks, no doubt getting feathers all over me. Sense them buzzing around me, a few little stings. They’re really dense, but they sure got balls getting up this close. Best give them a high five for effort.

Whirring nearby; looks like their ships are coming for their turn. Maybe they’ll give me a challenge. Pfft, yeah right. A boom vibrates along my arm; guess that’s one down. Something hanging right in front of me. Howzabout a tried-and-true Spike Mega Headbutt? Bit of a sizzle, probably the embers of those braziers they’re carrying around. Bit of a warm touch for my big ol’ schnoz.

...Actually, a little too warm. Getting much warmer. Did something catch fire on my face? Wait, it's spreading. And getting hotter. What—

Ow! What was—Yeow! What’s that thumping? Did I just give myself a migraine? What's that, grr, ringing sound? And it's getting louder—

AGH! Oh gods my mind; something’s pulling at me. Why is it getting hazy what the hell is going on Gotta Kill what’s making me so hot Must Burn can’t think can’t feel Destroy Them too loud too loud no no no it just won’t stop just stop it stay away from me let me go can’t control Burning Burn Kill CRUSH KILL KILL SMASH DIE DIE! DIIIIEE!!!

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHH!!!!!!!!!

----------------------

A pained groan is the first thing I notice, and I piece it together that it’s my own. All my limbs feel incredibly stiff, but I will my right arm up to where I hope my face is. Yep, there’s my snout. Now for the eyes… Good. Rub them open, and there.

Opening my peepers, I feel myself lying on a slanted surface. Barely see the sky overhead, but that’s probably because it’s almost dark. There’s light around me, and shifting my stiff neck, I see a whole retinue of military forces circling me at a distance with some torches. Lucky they’re on my side, and they even have their spears, swords and crossbows leveled at me in greeting. No, scratch that; that’s actually not lucky. What did I do this time?

Ahead of me, I catch a pegasus raising their hoof and looking around.

“Stand down. I think he’s gotten it out of his system.”

Well I’ll be damned: Daybreak to my rescue a second time. Guess he has command or something, since everyone lowers their weapons. With a flap of his wings he lifts off and flutters the couple of yards to my spot, touching down next to me. Looking the same as when I left him, so some comfort there.

“You okay there, Spike?”

“Yeah. Canyon floors don’t make for good napping spots, though.” I groan and flex my shoulders and arms, popping some joints. “How long was I out?”

“Ten, fifteen minutes. You collapsed after turning back to normal.” For some reason he’s looking me square in the face, tensely so.

“Oh yeah. How’d it turn out?”

“Your plan worked, but… faaaar too well.”

“‘Well’ nothing: he about ripped this mountain range a new asshole!”

I squint my eyes and bring up a claw, spotting the grizzled stallion and his cocky smile. “Oh hey there, uhh… Major, right? What exactly did I do?”

“Went damn berserk is what you did! You tore through them buzzards like a building-sized rabid dog, and even chunks out of the mountains too. Only took them bird-brains three seconds to realize the shit they were in before turning tail. Bout near the damn funniest thing I’ve seen today, the way they spun around and flew off.”

“When you say chunks, exactly how big are we talkin’?”

“See for yourself.”

I crane my neck over my right shoulder, and a ways past the line of soldiers I see a massive wall of dirt, boulders, and what appeared to be broken beams of wood. And by massive, I mean more than a third the height of the canyon wall. I also notice large scorch marks and a few lingering green fires spread over the general area. Yeesh, I definitely must have let loose.

“Crushed a good many griffons as they were running. Never seen anything like it,” Buck continues. “You weren’t kidding about having the firepower. None of their airships even had a chance.”

I only remember the one airship being destroyed. And certainly nothing about tearing down the canyon. Never a good sign to be blanking out during a rampage.

“Did I happen to get any of ours?” I ask to stay on track.

“Not one,” Davy answers, still looking me straight in the eyes. “You kept going the other way, like you said you would.”

Lucky. “Then why the warm welcome?”

“Well… better to be safe than sorry.”

To that I shrug. “Don’t blame ya. My transformations get unpredictable whenever there’s an audience, apparently.” I push at the ground and heft myself up onto my feet. Wiping away the dirt, I say, “So we in the clear? Mission accomplished?”

“I’d say so. We managed to take a few griffons prisoner, and some of our ships are touching down to help with the wounded. I put your clothes and sword on one of them.”

“Good. Shame your brandy couldn’t have been saved; I wouldn’t mind a drink about now.”

“Probably not a good idea. We just received a message that General Stormwall got onto a transport that left a few hours after we did. He should be arriving shortly with a resupply.”

“I bet he’d love to hear how well things went here.”

“Before that, uh, maybe you should, um, make yourself presentable.”

“The clothes are more a formality, Davy. I’m sure he won’t mind seeing me without that.”

“I’d agree with you. Except you’ve clearly been having very pleasant dreams and, uhm…”

“Hm?”

“...You’re incredibly exposed at the moment.”

It finally registers that something’s amiss, and looking down I discover that Spike Jr. is on full, painful display. No wonder Davy’s avoided looking at me below the neck (also would explain the lightheadedness).

“Well uhhhhhhhh, yeah. I guess they were pleasant… Not what the general would want to see,” I mumble with warmth rising in my cheeks.

“Definitely not,” he agrees, this time turning his eyes as far away as his sockets would allow.

“Yeah ummm… I should go… take care of this. Over where it’s… private.”

“Understood.”

“Riiiight… be back in a few minutes…”

Stiffly I turn about face, then start walking, doing my best to cover my pride while seeking out some recess or whatever dark spot I can find far from all those surprised (possibly envious) troopers. Certainly not what they had in mind when they enlisted, to get an eyeful of dragon junk. The whole rampaging thing and battle report I’ll deal with later. Right now I have to beat out (urrrgh) those lingering thoughts of Daybreak’s hot wife and get my head back in the game. Also, make a note to spend a nice long evening in with Sweetie Belle when I get back, so as to… further ease the battle tensions.

“Hey, do you need help with th—”

“No Patches. Just, no.”

Just my frickin’ day, right?

Author's Note:

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Comments

[GrimmWolfDragon]

This whole entire chapter was comedic gold.