> The Griffon Chronicle > by Grave Walker > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > World Map - Log:1.2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- WARNING! From here on out, this map may contains possible spoilers of locations and or places yet to be discovered in the story. This map is not set in stone and is rather a visual thought out rough draft of ideas and possibilities. This map is susceptible to change over time and be edited as the story continues on. The Log Number will go up every time when significant things or places are added or changed. I am no artist, so my skill at making something professionally done is out of the question. I do my best as this is ment as a basic visual representation of the world the story is set in. Unless someone was willing to make such story art, this will be the best. So until otherwise, the map will be limited to what I can create on Google Slides. And here is the link to the World Map of the Wasteland! https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/165t5YbgKNm1b36goyOPhNzkfX4ZeZLa5w9uCsn0WrI8/edit?usp=sharing > Chapter 1: Strange Yet Stranger [Redux] > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I awoke, startled from my slumber by the gust of the screeching wind. Gasping, I shivered as I gained control of my breathing. Staring aimlessly into the clouded sky, I began searching through my memories. With nothing showing up, I began to feel my body starting up. Yet as calm as everything seemed, everything felt... Wrong. My entire body felt different and yet, my instincts told me this was right. Every fiber of my body felt all so unnatural and yet, I stayed calm through my panicked mind. I raised my arms, seeing the unbelievable. My hands were gone! No. They were changed. Similar to that an eagle's claw, I had a three digit finger/talons including a talon/thumb. I was too shocked to scream as I continued to breath in and out. Doing my best not to lash out and do something rash, I continue to stare dumbly at my changed hand. I did an experimental twirl with my changed hand. And as expected, it followed my commands and moved. “Holy shitbuckets.” I could bare keep my thoughts straight as my mind raced with sensation and realization. “This… Is it real?” I spoke under my breath as I raised my left arm, leading to the same conclusion. Slowly, I rolled over onto my belly as I got onto all fours. As if it was normal to be on all fours instead of standing on two. “What am I?” My voiced aches out, as if I had a small cold. Still sounding the same, I sighed and took another deep breath. The air was freezing dry, yet didn’t affect my lungs all too much. I glanced over the area to find a spectacular sight. I stood on the ledge of a tall cliff side, gazing down upon a barren valley. Down the valley and into the distance, I could see some kind of man made structures. Another gust of cold wind hit me, blowing a bit dust into my face. I quickly reacted and shield my eyes, but I was met with shock as I felt my face. Finding a beak instead of normal mouth, I began touching every part of my face, finding that I was completely changed. What the hell did I turn into? I looked down below, finding that I was really high from any kind of way down. “Damn.” I groaned as I sat in the dirt, trying to think and comprehend what was going on. With my mind yielding no answers, I stared at my claws. Then an idea popped into mind. I need to climb down. Climbing down will lead to somewhere. Going around and I'm bound to find someone. And if I find people, I'll get answers. With that train of thought, I need to get moving. I got up and gazed down the mountainside, only finding no spots to climb down. “Of course, no easy way down.” Grumbling at my luck, I began to check myself, seeing if I had anything useful. I had my beloved German Mauser K98K modified with a (6X) Scope. I had bought it at an action and boy am I glad I did. It was both fun to use and great to hunt with. Both Unexpectedly Surprisingly, I had my Remington 870 Special Purpose Marine Magnum 12 Gauge with 6 round tube. I also a bandoleer holding 3 inch shells as well having a saddle like bag that was stored with ammunition. And lastly, I had my sidearm with me in it’s now modified holster. The gun itself is a Smith & Wesson Model 610 10MM 6 shot Revolver. I didn’t bother to count how much ammo I had, I knew by glancing that I was stocked up on ammo to shoot at the range all day. All of the guns had additional changes that made them work with my new claw like hands. Besides my guns, I also had stuff that didn’t belong to me. For example, I had a bunch of survival tools; from a flint and steel fire starter kit to a classic swiss army knife. I also had a stainless Ball-Peen Hammer with a redwood handle. The strange thing about the hammer was that it had strange runic symbols flawlessly engraved into the metal and wood. The hammer was part of what I found to be a metal working tool set that (magically) somehow fit in a section of my bag. On the outside of my bag, there was two big pouches held down by large belt buckles. The first one held an entire gun cleaning tool kit. The second one held a ammo reloading kit with the many tools to make more. So far, this entire bag defied physics and all that is logic. How do all of these thing fit inside it! How is this even possible? My brain hurts trying to wrap any logic around this entire situation. It’s like some bullshit magic excuse of a reason! Wait... Magic. It has to be… Well damn, I guess for once, magic is the only logical reasoning here. Damn. I’m just going to tell myself that I guess nothing is impossible, at least for my own sanity. Since logic has now been thrown out the window, let’s see what else there is in Santa’s magic bag! Looking into another internal pouch, it held large wood splitting axe/sledge, a wedge, hatchet, a large one-man crosscut saw!  I had another magical pouch full of a mixed bunch of odd stuff. Tools for fine detailed carpentry, bottles of strangely colored inks, jars filled with unknown powders, gold engraved pens for calligraphy, reflective/crystal like papers, many engraved/painted bones, sticks that looked like magic wands, and so much more. So far, seven pouches inside of a moderately large bag holds a garage turned into a packed workshop worth of tools and things. Grabbing a permanent marker, I began labeling the pouches. “Ammunition Storage. Ammunition Tools. Gun Tools. Survival Tools. Metal Working Tools. Woodworking Tools. And… Magic Junk/Tools? Yeah, I’ll go with that. I can always change it latter…” I mumbled a I wrote. I thought about labeling the tools, but that’s work for another time. Speaking of the tools, I noticed that all of them had those runic engravings that seemed to have a soft glow within the paint. That told me that these tools must have at least some magical property. What that is? I don’t know. I’ll find out later. Anothing thing to note about the tools, is that none of them had any manufacture logo or any mark of who made them. Hell, the red swiss army knife was plain and markless as well. The only things unaffected by this unbranding was my guns. “Strange, as if no one wanted anyone to know who made them. Could it be because none of them belonged to me? More questions to be hurt my brain with later.” Beside my magic bag of stuff, I had another weapon that had now caught my attention. Sheathed on my right was a beautifully crafted Roman Gladius. The finely crafted damascus steel blade was quite sharp and strong as I grazed the tip on my talon, testing the sharpness to be like that of a razor. And just by this observation alone, it was by far from being any cheap blade. Another blade on me was a dagger located next to my revolver on my left. The dagger, if i could be called that, was a strange definitely ineffective weapon. The hadel was simple polished wood with two snake tails curving outwards and forming the pommel. Two dragon like heads made the guard as the snake tails traveled up and crossed over once before forming two sharpened shot edged tips. The blade was really just a arrowhead split down the middle. This dagger was by the looks of it, more of a decorative piece then a useable weapon. Other than my weapons, my arrire has changed as well. I no longer wore my hunting jumpsuit and coat. It was all gone and replaced with armor on the line between fantasy and realistic. And this was an interesting setup of armor if I’ve ever seen. The first thing I wore was a long dense dull gray gambeson that reached all the way to cover my rear sides. The pattern was like that of scale mail, each scale overlapping the next. Based on the odd texture, the gambeson seemed to be made of some modern plastic like fabrics. Kevlar maybe? Besides guesstimating what the gambeson was made of, the forearm parts of the sleeves were protected by some fancy steel bracers. The reason I considered it fancy was because the nordic pattern finely engravings into the steel. I had more nordic plated armor that covered my shoulders, abdomen, belly, back, and rear. All parts seamlessly worked together in protecting me and keeping maneuverability. Strange that I was missing a helmet though… The chest plate was composed five main plate parts that overlapped each other, but fully protected my chest and granted flexibility. My underside was like that of a dragons, metal parts forming scales that overlapped and allowed more flexibility, but less protectability. My shoulders were like that of my bracers, and are simply strapped down held together with the Gambeson. Each side of my rear had a big curved plate that overlapped the smaller, integrated scale plates that worked flawlessly. My back was a bit different as two gaps were made for my wings and making use of the. The section of my lower back did have a single plate that worked under the ones on my rear. Besides the fantasy like armor, I had these black leather saddle bags. Just looking at them, it seemed as if they were  really nothing that special. But finding out before hand of the massive and unnatural storage capacity, I greatly valued them. As I’ve noted before, the snake dagger was sheathed on my left side right next to my Revolver. The Black Gladius was sheathed securely onto my left thigh. My stainless shotgun was hanging on my back between my wings by it’s strap. And lastly, I held my beloved rifle in my bird hands. Damn, I look just like some type of anime Bounty Hunter in the Middle Ages, added with my modern firearms. Yet with all this stuff, I was scared. Not from the heights of the cliffside, but rather the fact that I’m not panicking. Everything about this is just… Wrong. This is Impossible at every level. How did this happen? Why did this happen? Where am I? What am I? These questions kept shouting for about another minute until I started taking another breather. Ok, I need to think rationally about this absurd situation. I’ve been turned into a… umm… Bird thing? Damn it, I need a name for what I am. Let’s see, I walk on all fours, have huge blue/white/black wings, a black beak, black talons, a fluffy lion’s tail, Head and upper half of a bird, lower body that looks like a white leopard... It was this moment, I facepalmed… Or is if faceclawed? Naw. I’m sticking to facepalmed. I’m not changing my views that quickly! Anyways! I now know what I am! A freaking Griffin in all of its glory. If I’m correct, I’m a mix between the likes of a snow white leopard and a blue jay/falcon. Wow, I’m such a dumbass. But why such an odd color? Aren't griffins supposed to be... Brown? Racist. “What the hell?” What you said was racist. “That did not sound racist… Or did it?” You know better than that dumbass. “How am I supposed to know that brain?! All mythological creature are just a myth! Griffins don’t even scientifically work!” Yet that is what you are. “Ture, I can’t deny that logic.” And forever an unlucky loser. “Shut up!” Besides arguing with my own thoughts, I then finally remembered what I was doing before I passed out. It was the ROCK! Goddamnit! I know better then to touch magical glowing rocks in creepy caves! It’s so cliche that a child knows better! Whatever that thing was, it must be responsible for this. I’m so stupid sometimes. Yes you are indeed stupid as well. “MOTHERFU-” After going on my spree of constant swearing, I finally calmed down. My tempertamterm nearly lead to headbutting the cliffside in rage to get my head to shut up. But I knew better than to act like a child in a situation like this. Yet I have to admit that this is by far the most stupidest thing I’ve done in a while. Maybe even the worst of them all! Once again, I pouted and grumbled, not wanting to accept reality. But I was brought back from my mental breakdown as I heard the echoed sounds of screams and clashing of metals. Quickly getting up, I gazed over the the valley, thanks to my eagle eyes, I quickly spotted a small caravan of griffins. What surprised me even more was that they were be attacked by what looked like biped dogs. They were smaller then werewolves and their limbs seemed dispoerposraint? I quickly aimed my rifle and looked into the scope, getting more detailed image of what was going on. I took note that these griffins looked like the ones I’ve seen before; brown body with a white eagle head. These Griffins seemed to be farmers as they were armed with farming equipment and a few swords. There looked to be ten strong as they protected the women and children. Now the mutants on the other hand, looked to be primitive at best. They were dressed in poorly sewn pelts and armed with bone and rock. Not really the best weaponry compared to iron or steel. Assuming that these dogs were just savages, I laid down and aimed my rifle. Hoping I was making the correct assumption, I readied myself. Within a few moments, I mentally calculated distance and directory, even if I was not that far away, I still did it out of habit. I breathed steadily, and gently pulled the trigger.   *BOOM* And as expected, I landed a good old headshot on one of the larger dogs. I watched through the scope as the dogs stopped their movements, the sudden sound making them drop their weapons and cover their ears. They searched for the source, only to find a dog missing a good chunk of his head. Both the Dogs and Griffins stood shocked while I on the other hand, I did not. Taking the opportunity, I skillfully moving the bolt at blurring speeds, ejecting the shell and bolting in another. I aimed at the next target, calculated, and fired. This time, landing one in the chest. The Dogs haven’t caught on and were still cowering from the blasting sound of my rifle. The griffins did not and took the advantage as they charged, taking down two more Dogs. I heard a howl of fear amongst the now terrified raiders, sending the savages into a full retreat. I did not let them leave easy as I fired three more time. Landing two more and missing the last. Sighing, I loaded another five rounds and caught the stripper clip in mid air. Grabbing the somewhat hot shells, I packed them into my empty pocket. I aimed down the scope once again, observing the griffins as they searched for their savior. Lowering my gun, I got back up. I needed to get down there. Saving them should give me an advantage on gaining need information and hopefully, some answers. Switching the safety on, I slung my rifle onto my back. Stretching my wings a bit, I moved my two guns from messing with my wings. I really hoped I could glide down without breaking anything. Yet again, I decided to take the chance, I jumped off of my perch and held my wings out, letting them balance out my guided fall. Now, I don’t know much about birds or how they fly, but I’ve air dived once when I still had the stomach. Sticking to those important yet horrid memories on how to slow and move through my descent, I glided through the air. The only problem with this was that I didn’t account for wind. I began to spiral out of control. Yet on instinctive impulse, I quickly flapped balanced myself in the air. Curving around the group, I then made a somewhat smooth landing in front of them. And for first time since I’ve awoken, luck seemed to like me now. Thank god I didn’t mess that up. Shaking my head, I looked up at them, seeing their shocked faces. “What? Never seen a griffin fly?” I asked sarcastically, hoping to god that they would understand me, at least ease them before they stabbed me with those pointy pitchforks. Thankfully, this got them out of their stutter as they looked at each other, as if not knowing what to say at my response. “Thank you.” I heard one of them say out in english. I looked down and saw a little ball of fluff pop out from behind the adults. “Your welcome.” I answered back, smiling at the surprisingly cute little griffin. I thought bird babies were supposed to be ugly as hell? Whatever, the small thing stood wide eyed at the sight of me, looking just like a kid at christmas morning. He was quickly nudged back and hidden away by what I assumed to be his mother. “What do you want mercenary?” Said an older one as he practically spat out the word. Yet I did not take offence as I notice he was clutching his chest over a bleeding wound. “You're hurt, can you let me see your wound.” I asked politely, gaining a grunt from him. “We don’t need the help of your KIND!” He spat, but this time with blood. He let out a cry as he fell, clutching his bleeding wound. The other Griffins quickly caught and lowered him onto the ground. “Father!” Another griffin called out, grabbing his hands and looking into his tearing eyes. “Let me help now or he’s gonna die.” I demanded. Even though I knew little about surgery and medical stuff, I wasn’t just gonna let this guy die. The griffin that I guessed to be the son, looked up at me, staring into my eyes for a moment. “Help him.” He allowed. I didn’t hesitate as I quickly looked over his wounds. He had a nasty looking opening and was bleeding out profoundly. Thankfully, it wasn’t too deep and could be stitched. Yet I needed to cleanse and seal the wound fast before he bled out. “Get me some bandages, towels, clean water, a needle and some thread. Now!” They did as I said as my voice brought authority over them. Rushing like mad, they quickly brought me what I needed. Reaching into my bag and pulled out a round for my Mauser. “What’s that for?” Another demanded, hold a dagger at my back. “To cleanse the wound.” I answered, ignoring his threatening jester and quickly soaking up the wound. I then washed the opening and quickly dried it. I then popped the bullet out and spread the gunpowder onto the wound. “This is going to hurt a helluva lot, brace yourself.” I said. He gulped and shut his eyes, ready for the pain. I used the flint and the steel rod, igniting the powder. The Griffin screeched at the sudden burning pain, yet still held strong. Before the others could object to what I was doing, I began to sew the wound up as fast as I could, yet trying to be gentle. With the wound sealed, I wrapped the last of the cloth I had around his chest and made a knot, putting pressure on the stitched wound. Now I’m no field medic or any trained specialist like that. Even though I saved this guy's life, I didn’t even pass biology in high school. So how did I do this? I saw this done in a movie. Simple as that. Don’t know why I remembered that particular movie, but I’m sure as hell glad that I did. By now the bandaged Griffin had passed out. “Is he…” The son stated, just ready to mourn in sorrow. “No. He just passed out from shock, I guess.” I pointed out, stepping back. “He is alive and should get better.” I assured, letting him hug his father. I backed away a bit more, giving them some room. I watched him, making sure the son didn’t open up the stitches. The griffin with the dagger then came behind me, holding the blade against my non armored neck. Everyone got nervous as I stood still with the dagger at my throat. “Put the blade down.” My voice spoke low with malice, hoping that I could scare him into letting his guard down. And it worked. He flinched away and that seemed to be all I needed as I quickly smacked the dagger out of his loose grip. I the grabbed him by the arm, flipped him onto the ground and twisted his arm down into submission. All done in one fluid motion, he cried in pain as I held him at the breaking point of his shoulder. “I am not your enemy.” I said loud enough for everyone to hear. Glancing around, the farmers looked at me fearfully. “First I scare those dogs off your hide, then I give medical treatment, and save one of your own from death. Yet he sees me as a threat? Does his ignorance represent you all?” I asked, clearly voicing my frustration at them. They said nothing, watching in shock as I twist the arm a bit, making the griffin scream in pain. “I come and save you, yet this is how you thank me? Maybe I had mistake the dogs for being the victims?” I snarled, releasing my anger onto them. The griffins were now huddling in fear, as if I was a monster about to eat them. Few moments passed before I realized what I was doing. These people are scared and I’m about to break this guy’s arm off. This is not gonna help my reputation or get me answers. A few moments passed as I stared into their eyes. Even an idiot could tell that they clearly feared me. Quickly understanding that this was not the best idea for making friends, I let him go. Releasing his arm, he quickly scurried onto his feet and joined his friends.   “However, that is not the case.” I stated, looking away from them. “The truth is, I’m lost and in need of some guidance.” I told honestly. Yet I was not gonna go dropping the ‘I’m not a griffin’ bomb. They’ll just see me as crazy… Yet they probably already do by how they look at me… Shitbuckets. “Hay. I’ll even make a deal.” I said, which perked some interest out of a few of them. “What is it?” Asked the... Who is that one? Damn, I need their names. “I’ll protect and guard your group as long as needed. In return, you lead me to the nearest city and help me get a map.” I offered, hoping they'll take the bait. “What about daddy?” He asked the fluffball, looking up at me with a puppy face at god tier. DAMN IT! HE IS SO CUTE! CAN’T. RESIST. MUST. SUBMIT. Damn it Jack! Why does he have to be so freaking cute?! “And I’ll see to it that your father gets well.” I said quickly, doing my best not to just rush up and hug the life outta him. They took their time talking to each other, discussing what they should do. When they finally came upon agreement to my offer, they had their own terms. Just as long as I don’t go killing or stealing from them, they said I could accompany them as a guard. Now it's time to get some info. After chatting with a few of the Farmers, I got quite the story. Well it turns out that this wasn’t the first time they had been raided. First time was not from these ‘Diamond Dogs’ as they were called. Instead a hungry dragon burned down their town and farm to a crisp. If it wasn’t for me not caring and just going with it, I’d be having a panic attack by now. Thankfully, that didn’t happen as I continued to learned more about this world, while not revealing too much about myself. While they still feared me, I now understood why. They had just survived a dragon attack and were heading to the city for help. Then they get ambushed and nearly killed before being saved by a strange colored griffin. Yeah, I’m apparently very strange to them. Yet I can’t blame them for being paranoid as they are. Thankfully, nothing jumped us on our way to the city. I think the gunshots had scared most of the wildlife. Besides the boring long walk, I couldn’t help but question what kind of world I was in. Based on what I could get from the griffins, I could only assume that this land held other sentient mythological creatures. Hell, I’m probably in a some kind of fairy tale land for all I know. And if I can use magic, I’m so gonna freak out and try to use it. But first thing’s first. When we reach this Dune City, I’m gonna find a map and figure out where the hell I am. Speaking of the city, it was by what the griffins told me, it was a outpost of sorts. While the city was a center trade route, it also was considered a free fortress. Whatever that meant. It was also the only connection to the  rest of world for these farmers. Apparently, we were in a huge wasteland that spanned across the dry countryside and was barren for miles on end. Dune City was one of a few safe heavens in the ironically named wasteland. When I asked how this came to be, the elder told about the Great Wars. And man, it was some of the most scariest shit I’ve ever heard of. Basically from what I got out of his brief history lesson, it was medieval times having a near worldwide cold war era. Except these magic weapons got hot and messed the world up in more ways than intended. Yeah…. That’s totally what you’d expect from a magical land of mythical griffons. In fact, this country is still coming back from the ashes. Yet still struggling from the aftermath a little bit under a few hundred years. Similar to Germany after world war one, griffins were the butt of the joke. Similarly to earth’s history, the world hasn’t given a damn about the griffins for centuries, or if there is a world out there to begin with. Yet, as fascinating as it was learning about this world, he was only one source. Like anyone else, I can’t just base over a few hundred years worth of history on one person. That’s insanity. Besides his vivid history lessons, I mostly focused on where we were going. The city itself was made of ‘melted stone’ as he called it. Thanks to this forgotten building material, the city has been standing strong like that of roman concrete. In fact, I’m betting it is something akin to roman concrete. Surprisingly, they weren’t asking that much from me. May it be I’m scary or just too strange for them, I don’t know. I don't pester them too much, so most of the time, we walked in silence. That is until that adorable devil came and hugged me outta nowhere. “Wut.” Is all I could say as the fluffball hugged me. “Even though mum said no, I think you needed a hug. Do you like hugs?” Goddamnit he is so ficking cute! I might as well have a heart attack by now. “They are nice when needed.” I strained out. He gasped out in excitement as he stared up at me. I don’t know how, but I should die by heart failure any minute now. I can’t take this much! “What’s dis?” He asked, poking the stainless steel barrel of my shotgun. Taking a moment breathe in some air, I looked back down at the little griffin. “That is a shotgun my little friend.” I told, he didn’t seem understand my answer, so I continued. “A shotgun is one of my hunting tools.” I answered simply. He gasped again, looking at the firearm like a raccoon dose with anything shiny. “What does it do!” He asked eagerly, trying to pry it from me. “If you keep trying to take it, how am I supposed to explain it?” I rhymed, getting him to giggle as I slung it off of my shoulder. “This shotgun is one three similar tools I have on me. This thing shoots a bunch small metal balls a supersonic speeds that take down anything in their path.” I explained, letting him observe the gun closer. “While I don’t use it that often, I use this shotgun for when I come across a angry bear or something alike.” “Can it kill a Bugbear?” he asked, flapping his wings excitingly. Before I could even question such a monster ever existing, I noticed that we were approaching the main road to the City. While that wasn’t to important, what caught my eye was something very disturbing. Much more than a Bugbear.   Off in the horizon was a huge lion bat scorpion monstrosity. It stood over a dozen mutilated griffin corpses, ripping the dead with it’s maw. And in it’s eye, I saw a beast gone rabid with no logical reasoning. The rest of our group quickly noticed the bloody mess and the monster ahead. “Run.” I started, pushing the fluffball to the others. The griffins needed no more words as they retreated back, grabbing their pitchforks as the four male griffins formed a protective wall. The beast looked up, noticing us and our movements. But what it saw was me standing there out in the open with my shotgun aimed ready. It observed me for a moment before charging madly. Without a second thought, I aimed down and pulled the trigger. The buckshot spewed out like fire and stuck the charging monster. It tripped upon the sudden blast and fell into the dirt, roaring in pain as the burning lead shredded into its flesh. *Chuck-Check* *BOOM* I fired another shell into the beast, this time pumping lead into its left shoulder and left wing. The monster roared in agony as it failed to get up. Closing in, I pumped the shotgun and ejected another shell. The lion cried in pain, trying to crawl away. With a boost of my wings, I jumped up and landed right before it. Quickly, I aimed the barrel at the base of it’s skull. The hideous hybrid let out a final cry as I blew it’s head into gore confetti, ending it. Observing my work, I grabbed a shell from the bandoleer and began reloading. After loading the shells, I pried my gaze away from the death and towards the griffins behind me. I swore their eyes grew the size of dinner plates by my actions. “Dinner anybody?” After dealing with the shell-shocked griffins, I eventually convinced them to help me gut the Manticore as it was called. Speaking of that monster, it was huge! I mean, I’ve killed all kinds of game before, but this was the biggest one yet. It was nearly twice as large as a Black Bear and had huge wings. It also had a poisonous tail that could paralyze its prey with one puncture. Thanks to my shooting, most of the meat was unharmed and edible. Besides the dead monster, we had the dead griffins on our hands… Ermm, talons now. Anyway! They were torn to shreds, barely recognizable from mushy gore. Not even enough body left to have a proper burial. So I did the next best thing.... Loot the bodies. What? The dead don’t care about their valuables, there dead! While there was nothing really salvageable, they had a few pouches of gold coins. These coins were known as “Bits” and were accepted worldwide as currency. When I asked about how trading bits worked, they looked at me like I was stupid, yet they explained it to me. I think they answered all of my questions out of fear. I mean, killing a monster three to four times your size without a scratch is impressive, but with such ease of my weapons- Wait… Weapons... That’s it! They don’t just feared me, they are just scared of the unknown! I may be totally strange to then, but my weapons are probably like nothing they had ever seen. I might have as well have shown a caveman my guns and used it to kill the powerful monster. No wonder they're scared shitless. I’m an enigma with power and they don’t know how to properly adapt to it. I could… No. I’m not gonna just take full advantage of them. That’s just wrong in my book. Besides the realization, I helped with gutting and packaging the meat. Yet another problem raised. They didn’t want to take the meat. Why? Well, it was my kill apparently. Before I could just facepalm my brains out, it made sense. They are predators and if I was to eat something they killed, it would be socially wrong in their eyes. After all, I was too, a hunter. Why did I not pick that up in the first place? Anyway, as hesitant as they were from taking the food, I assured them that I didn’t need all of that meat to myself. Eventually, I convinced them that it was payment for their help and for anything that arises in the future. So they helped in finishing the gutting and we stored the meat onto a cart. After we settled that, we continued our way towards Dune City. > Chapter 2: Attack At Dune City! [Redux] > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dune City, not a spectacular sight as I thought it would be. While the description given was accurate, it just didn't look as marvelous compared to human ingenuity and creativity. Yet, I can’t deny that it was straight to the point in its purpose. The walls looked quite formidable, even with the many battle scars it held, the walls stood strong. The ‘city’ was built rather ingenious if I do say so myself. I may not have a degree in architecture, but I do know when I see good strategy and tactics. The city itself was split into two by two separate walls. There was the outer wall, thick and strong for taking most of the beating. And then there was the supposedly smaller inner wall. I was told it was in more pristine condition as it hadn’t faced much damage and had some engraved art if that was to be believed. Past the tall battle scarred wall, was the commoners living space. Homes were either rebuild with scarp and bricks or made use of the old storage buildings that originated with the fort turned city. But based on what I gathered, the place was more of a large town then a simple city. The name is just there because of all the trading traffic it gets. Coming back to the Dune City’s design, the first wall also held a few local business and two local inns. But after passing all the homes and the commoner markets, then came the second wall. This wall blocked off the commoners and travellers from two big storage houses, a palace, and the guards barracks. That is what the old griffin told me at least. I’m guessing there are rooms for ambassadors and other such noble stuff as well. Basically, that was all I could get in details about the city’s layout. As for the who ran the city, it was some large griffin named Lord Titan, who now rules over the city. The old girfion mentioned something about him not always being in power, but he got tired of talking. And just like a cat., the old father took rest on top of their luggage in the large cart. As we got closer to seeing Dune City’s gate, I really saw how old this place must have been. And obviously must have been built brilliantly for fending off invading land forces such as those savage dogs, yet I saw a problem. The town sized city was built to defend from land dwelling forces, not huge aerial monsters such as a huge fire breathing dragon. And that is a really big problem. “What are you staring at?” One of the griffin guards asked argerly. They had been keeping a really close eye on me ever since I got here. And more so when seeing that I was armed. “I am calculating our chances of survival from a dragon attack.” I started sarcastically, holding in a chuckle while looking back at the guards. They wore a simple clothes with some scraps of hide armor. All of them were adorned with a bronze colored bucket of a helmet. The main weapon of choice was surprisingly, a Spear with a long steel spade spear. I also noted that they had studded wooden club as side arms. Not really suited to their ability of agility and flight. I would personally arm them with longswords and some crossbow as they could take that to a better advantage. Have they invented crossbows? “And based on what I have observed, your defenses are very vulnerable to a large dragon attack.” I stated, caused to guards to question my interests as they lead us through the gates. “There hasn’t been any dragons this far north since the great war.” A griffin stated out, standing out among the ranks. And that griffin was she if my ears weren’t mistaken. She wore more refined armor with a metal chest plate and had an authoritarian status among the others. The farmers quickly bowed down to her. Weather it was of respect or the likes of fear, I couldn’t quite tell. “I need to speak to whoever is in charge of this hold.” I asked, looking straight into her amber eyes. She seemed a bit surprised, yet held her expression neutral as she circled around me. “And who might you be? Requesting Lord Titan's time like common folk?” She asked as she observed me, looking as if she was testing my skill and strength with her gaze. “It is urgent that me and these survivors warn Lord Titan of the impending danger that lurks.” I told, insisting the urgency in my voice. I also began checking her out as well. Not as if she was hot or anything… I think... Damn it brain, not now! “You didn’t answer the question, Pureblood.” She hissed the name, resting her claws on the hilt of her sword. Oh yeah, she had a long saber on her as well. And what the hell does 'Pureblood' mean anyway? “I’m Jack… Jack Cobalt.” I spoke out. Why I did just changed my last name on the fly? Um… It at least sounded way cooler. Now that I think about it, the name aint that bad, and it matched my new form quite well. I’m a Blue Jay mixed Snow Leopard griffon. Cobalt in know as a deep cyan like blue, so it matches me. “Well then Jack Cobalt, why is a Pureblood all the way out here with farmers nonetheless?” She asked, still pronouncing those words with great disdain. And it seems she is quite insisting that I give her some info, exspcails with that grip on the her sword. I think carefully for a moment before speaking. “My whereabouts are none of your concerns. What is concerning is that fact that a dragon has just attacked a village not too far from here.” I stated, jesting my hand towards to griffin farmers. “They are the sole survivors from this attack and believe that it will strike again.” I spoke again. This time, I was starting to see the gears turning in her head. “Is this true?” She asked them. Before any of them could speak, a blaring roar screeched across the sky. I’m starting to get some video game vibes right now. She quickly took flight and spotted a red dot in the distance. “Guards! Alert Lord Titan and his Legion! Get everyone inside their homes now! We have a dragon coming our way!” She ordered, sending her troops out as she gave out multiple commands. Everyone seemed to know what to do as guards took to arms as the civilians hunkered down. “You three! Take them to Lord Titan and-” her voice was overshadowed by the fury of a dragon’s roar. I looked up and saw the red demon charging like a train at full speed. Quickly, I got to cover as it dived by, letting out a torrent of flames upon a group of guards. I stared, utterly shell shocked as I watched a dozen griffins slowly burn to death, screaming and flailing around in agony. I don’t know what happen next, nor can I really explain the great depth, but I felt something break in me. Something spontaneous, yet powerful all the same. I could say something akin to that of a spark. Most should run in this situation, fleeing for their lives at the sight of this flying demon. I know this, but for the love of me, I felt so pissed that fear wasn’t anywhere on my mind. A burning hatred for the murdering monster, it just consumed me whole. I felt my heart rate increase to light speed as everything slowed down to an almost unnatural level. I looked around, seeing the damage as many tried to put out the fires as other fled. I then looked up, only to see a fireball coming at me. Time seeming to quickly catch back up to me as I barely dodged the blast. Heat scorching my sides upon impact, I rolled a bit before hitting my head on a rock. I felt everything go black for a moment before awakening again. For a few moments, everything was dizzy and blurry, but that quickly faded away as time was fully sped back up. Groaning, I felt the familiar throbbing pain running all over my head. Must have gotten a concussion. Trying to get back up, I quickly dusting the still burning ash off my body. How long did I black out? I quickly halted my movements as I realized that I was right next to the red monster. A bit too close for comfort in my mind, I looked at what occupied the dragon’s attention. Standing right in front of the dragon was the scared farmers huddling together in fear. The Dragon had it’s maw open, just ready to bring out another blazing burst of flames. I then did either the most heroic, or the most stupidest thing in my life. I drew my gladius high and charged madly. It didn't even have the chance to look at me before I jammed the black blade into its eye, only stopping at the hilt. Nearly going deaf from the screeching banshee, I was quickly smacked away like a fly and sent tumbling across the dirt. Groaning, I noticed that I lost grip of my sword as it was still lodged in the dragon’s bleeding eye. Getting on all fours, I checked myself and found myself only to be bruised. Seeing that I still had my Remington 870 on me, I smiled with malice as the idea popped into mind. Switching the safety off, I gave a mighty battle cry, charging at the pain driven dragon. The beats took notice and open its maw, ready to turn me into ashes. But that is what I wanted. Right before it let loose, I jumped up into the air and fired the three inch shell worth of choked buckshot down it’s throat. The dragon instantly reared back in shock and coughing pain, falling onto its right side while clutching it’s stinging throat. I barely missed the huge swatting claws by mere inches as I rolled away and scurried back onto my feet. After catching my breath, I saw that the dragon laid on it’s side, choking himself as the lead burned into its flesh. “Eat lead motherfucker!” I yelled out as I let lose more buckshot, chipping and tearing the softer underbelly scales off of the beast. Yet as fate would have it, my gun soon clicked empty. “Shitbuckets.” The next thing I know, I’ve been suckerpunched by the fast and very furious dragon. Hurling in the air like a baseball, I slammed into the wall, cracking some bones upon impact. Groaning through my clenched beak, I rolled over onto my back, only to regret that even more. I felt some bones grinding against flesh and nerves. Now I too, was writhing in absolute pain. “Jesus Christ that ficking hurts!” I yelled out, feeling the burning pain of my bruised muscles and that of splintered bones. Remarkably, I pushed through the pain and got back up. Relying mainly on my adrenaline to keep me going, I quickly searched for my enemy. Yet as if God himself had demand death for me, I nearly fainted as I met the pissed off dragon face to face. “Burn.” It ached out, terrifying me down to my core. Welp, I'm done for! Yet right as it was about to turn me into roasted chicken, a few spears stabbed into the dragon’s damaged hide. Both of us looked to find that the guards had regrouped, aiming more spears and firing arrows. The dragon took a few steps away from me, trying to block the waves of shape toothpicks. Taking advantage, I slung my rifle and quickly aimed down the scope. Betting all hope on lady luck, I pulled the trigger. The bullet blasted out of the barrel and somehow, by ridiculous levels of stupid luck, landed dead on target. The metal bullet struck through the other eye and into the brain. The dragon dropped dead like a gigantic boulder, shaking the ground upon impact. For a few moments, the everyone stared as it laid there, motionless. “Holy shit! I think that did it!” I shouted out, coughing a spurt of blood. Nearly falling over, I leaned on my rifle as I continued to stare with glee. Making use of my rifle for a crutch, I began limping towards the dead dragon, with overwhelmingly crazed happiness. As I hobbled onward towards the dead dino, I took notice of the faces that the others held. Surprise, wonder, and fear were a few to name off. Ignoring their complete shock and awe, I soon was mere feet away from the behemoth. I did nothing but stand there, observing the dead beast. The dragon that I, fought and killed. Letting the realization settle in, I began to giggle madly with revelation. I continued to laugh like a madman, observing my work. All of my anger seemed to just melt away as I stared at it, laughing all the while. My sanity was on the verge of breaking off as I continued to comprehend this madness. I'm been turned into a griffin, that alone is bound to mess with anyone's mind. Then I saved other griffins from savage dogs and slayed a scary rejected Pokemon. And lastly, I alone saved an entire city from a flying, fire breathing dragon! Goddamnit! My mind is tired of this bullshit! I just want to wake up from this crazy dream and go home! Yet I knew that this was real. Even how ridiculous it is. Hell! Mythological creatures becoming real and sentient with a mix of nuclear magic weapons dropped, this is just plain insanity! Yet it feels too real to be a dream of any kind. Know what? God hates me! My thoughts continued to rant on as there was no logic to be seen. I eventually set that shit aside as I brought my bigger problems at hand. My body is damaged with some broken bones. I need to get some medical help if I'm going to recover. Yet I need to grab my sword. Still chuckling like a kid in candyland, I coughed some blood before I took hold of my sword, prying it from the body. Yet as soon as I touched the handle, the most cliche shit happened. I felt a sudden wave of warmth pass over me like a breeze. As if gallons of steaming warm water was dumped on me, I sighed, letting it soak me. Not caring what was happening anymore, my brain had enough. The pain in my body began numbing away as waves of golden mist healed my broken body with speeds on par with the likes of Wolverine. My vision turned to pure yellow as I felt my fatigue melt away with strength of a thousand warriors. Sighing again in relief, my wounds sewn themselves back together as torn flesh and broken bones became fixed. Hell, I felt them become stronger than before. Yet as it was empowering my body, my mind and spirit felt the relaxation all the same. I drew the sword out effortlessly and stood still, absorbing the rest of golden dust as if it was a natural occurrence. My sight quickly faded back to normal as I saw that the dragon was no more. All that remained was the steel strong bones and mighty red scales. Blinking a few time, I began to process what just happened. ... Did I just do a dovahkiin!? When did I turn into the ficking Dragonborn? How did I even do that shit!? I’m not even that badass! Know what, fick it! I’m done with this logic! Fick physics, I’m going with magic. I guess god does love me! Okay, this is a completely new world, new laws, new... Life? Hell! Everything from before is gone! I may ever get to go back! Yet I have a new body and possibly a new life even! “Holy gods above! I’m the freaking Dragonborn!” I shouted out, not caring what they think. I’m probably down with utter madness in their eyes, but who cares! I just shot down a dragon and took it’s soul! I’m the fucking badass of this world! I feel like I could take on the gods themselves! … Okay, I really need to calm down. I’m scaring these people shitless with my actions. Now, take breather and calm down. Breath in, breath out. Inhale, Exhale. Okay, I need to show that I’m not a demon or something alike. Maybe sheathing my sword would be a good step? I’m such a dumbass sometimes. Sheathing my gladius, I looked away from the dragon skeleton and towards the griffins. So far, they were still having their awe meter spiked. Turning towards them, closed my eyes and took in another breather. “Okay, I know I just slayed a bloodthirsty dragon and possibly saved this city single handedly, but please know that I don’t mean any harm towards you people.” I started, doing my very best to calm them down before they panicked. The last thing I need is to be chased outta town with spears and pitchforks. “Who are you?” Asked another griffin as he held his burned arm. “I am Jack Cobalt of... Valenwood. Yeah! Know that I come in peace and that I need to speak with your leader!” I told, trying hard to sound diplomatic as possible. Only this time, I really was failing at it. “And what do you want of me, Jack Cobalt of Valenwood?” Came in another voice from behind me. What caught me off guard was the freaking size of this griffin. While I have noticed the size difference between me and the others males griffons, this guy was a giant. He had silver on brown fur with golden bronze feathers with spots of white. Also, he had grand wings to account for his size. He was noticeably ripped with muscles as they bulge through his fur! Damn. This guy must be like the Arnold Schwarzenegger of Griffins! Just without the voice. If he did have the voice, that would make him even more badass! He flew down with a groups of heavily armored griffons in toll. “Lord Titan!” Following out with the announcement, the guards stood strong and gave salute. The rest started kneeling, or what it bowing? Whatever, they lowered themselves as a show of respect. Once I realized that I wasn’t bowing... I saw that everyone is looking at me like I'm flipped the bird to pope... What did I do now?! “Shitbuckets.“ I barely mumbled out, staring at the titan of a griffin... Okay, that pun was weak. “Jack Cobalt, are you challenging me?” He asked while walking over towards me. Keeping eye contact, I stood my ground, holding in my fear and what was left of my sanity. “No. I would prefer no strife with you, as I would surely lose.” I replied sarcastically. I tend to joke around when I'm really stressed and scared. And both of those boxes are checked in my book. “Says the one who slays the dragon.” He remarked, gesturing his hand over the the huge pile of red scales and bleach bones. “I, ahh... I wish to talk and explain my situation to you. In private of course.” I rushed out. “What you say can be spoken here.” He stated, trying to intimidate me. And he would have succeeded, only if I hadn’t just been scared shitless by the angry red dragon. “What I need to talk about is about of my own, and it is to be discussed is both personal and not meant for, how do you put it... Mortal ears?” I insisted, hoping to whatever god there is that my words would work. I don’t want everyone thinking I’m crazy and burning me to a stake. Surprisingly, I seemed to have changed the playing field from a 'no chance of winning' fist fight to real threat all out nuclear war. And his expression couldn’t tell me any different. “As you wish.” He stated, setting off the mind freaking bomb in my brain as Titan, the big hulking honcho bow down his head to me! What the fick is going on!? “Guards, get this place cleaned up and get those dragon scales to the Blacksmith.” He ordered, breaking their stutter as they quickly obeyed. Everyone suddenly looked at me as if I was Jesus himself! What had I possibly got myself into now? “Follow me, Chronicle.” Realizing that he was calling me, I joined him, gaining silent stares of shock and unbelief. Walking side by side, we ventured deeper into the city in silence. As I walked with him, I could only guess and question what I had just done to myself. In fact, I couldn't even understand all the madness going on in my head. I’m Dragonborn? I did kill a dragon, and absorb its soul and body… Was golden dust it’s soul? Or was it some stupid energy absorbing thing? Whatever it was, it definitely did more than just heal my mortal wounds me. After that stunt, I shouldn’t even be walking around, yet here I am, feeling stronger than I ever was before. Did I level up, like the video game character? Nah, I’m not in some video game, too real. But I definitely just did what Dovahkiin dose on a weekly basis. So I’m now something close to that, right? Maybe this “Chronicle” title is their version of Dovahkiin? Oh god, I don’t wanna fight anymore dragons right now. While I continued to internally panic, nothing substantial happened on short our stroll, in fact, nothing was even asked from me. We just traveled in silence. This gave me time to bring my brain back in order as I sorted my shit out. Also during this time, I stared at him and saw how he walked. Titan took short strides with less intimidation and more of a natural manner. The huge griffin didn’t ever give any eye contact, as if trying to avoid my gaze. Besides the awkwardness, we soon arrived at the gates to another part of the fort. Unlike the rest of the city, this palace like building was clean and much more presentable. The guards unlocked the gates upon our arrival and let us in without a word. “I welcome to my home, Chronicle.” And there he goes with that name again. Well, if I remember correctly, Chronicle means something written as important or historically significant. So I guess that name actually fits me quite well. I am, after all, an alien to this completely new world. Do they know I’m a alien? Better yet, what does this title give me? And how long can I keep it? I better not be their grand hero from dragons or something alike. Now that will still be ridiculously cliche. “I appreciate you hospitality, Lord Titan.” I finally answered back, observing the pillars and the interior artwork. “Anything for our Chronicle. You are greatly welcomed upon my land Jack Cobalt.” Titan replied, bringing us to a large dining room with slightly higher ceiling. The room itself wasn’t too spectacular, yet it wasn’t quite bland either. I mean, with the huge glowing crystal like chandelier, it basically illuminated the entire room. “I think after your long travels and defeating dragons, you must be starved! Come here friend and take a seat.” He suggested excitingly. While I am a bit tired, that dragon soul was very refreshing. In fact, how did I do any of that in the first place? Do I just kill something and gain it’s soul? It didn’t work when I killed the Manticore… More the think about later. “I am appreciative of your kindness Lord Titan, but I’ll have to decline that offer.” I told truthfully, seemingly downing his excitement a bit. “I have a few bottles Crystal Fall Wine.” He chirped in a cheerful tone, trying his best to persuade me. “Again, I’ll decline. That dragon soul did stuff me up.” Titan give out a hearty chuckle at my remark. “Alright Chronicle, what is so important that I need to know?” He asked, grabbing a pitcher of wine and filling his glass. “Tell me, who the hell am I too you?” > Chapter 3: Legendary Status > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- How is this possible? That’s all I can really think right now, especially with the load that just got dropped onto me. Did I not only just jinx myself, but got way more than I thought possible. Apparently, I’m like the second coming of Jesus Christ or something alike to these griffins! But thank god I’m not being worshiped like a holy idol! No, I’m the guy that must save the freaking race and bring about this wasteland country to glory! And the best part, he believes without a doubt, that I’m that freaking guy. This is so not what I want right now. “Okay, hold it.” I said, abruptly stopping his ongoing prophet speech. Taking another deep breath, I calmed down and proceeded. “I didn’t come here for praise, Titan. I need to find a way back home. If it’s even possible.” I said, grinding my beak as I mumbled the last part. Shocked at my statement, he continued to go against my words. “But Chronicle-” “I am no Chronicle!” I interrupted again, slamming my fist onto the table. “I am not who you think I am! Okay!” I yelled while leaning back, groaning as I rubbed my temples in frustration. “You can’t deny your destiny Jack Cobalt!” Titan rose from his seat, now towering over me like an angry father. His firm gaze quickly signified the fine line I’m walking on. I am a unannounced guest in his town, his domain, and I’m telling him off. Not a good idea jack. “If you are not the Griffin Chronicle, then how did you not only slay a dragon, but ate his very soul?” He questioned me. I tried to pairay against his logic, but I came up with nothing. “It is prophesied that a griffin from the heavens shall unite the lands under one banner of blue. A griffin who rules the land with heart and send demons back to the gates of Tartarus. That same griffin will bring the dawn of a new golden age upon the very world itself! Dose one of those sound familiar, Jack?” He pointed out. Groaning again, I looked up at the large bronze griffin. “You don’t understand! I’m not even a griffin!” He reared back at my seemingly absurd statement. Titan stayed silent for a moment, looking at me as if I was mad! “Then tell me, Jack Cobalt of Valenwood, how are you not a griffin?” Staring right back at him, I answered. “Because I'm an Alien.” And silence took over the room again as he processed my words carefully. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you claiming to be from the stars?” He asked slowly, emphasizing his words clearly while eyeing me with great detail. Looking for any signs of lying. “Yes I do. I am from a life lush planet called Earth. The planet itself is very diverse with many vast and unique environments. If I remember correctly, around 70% or so of the earth's surface is covered in vast oceans of water and life. I was originally a tall, pale, and hairless bipedal ape known as a Human. That is before I was turned into… Well, this.” I gestured to myself, slightly wincing and regretting that I may have insulted not only myself, but the entire species of the flying mythological creatures. Deciding to not ponder on those thoughts, I continued on. “In fact, I am just a slightly above average guy before all of this happened. I no leader, Just hiking around and up to my shack and pray for a gross score to mount. I stumbled upon a small cave with glowing rock. Then suddenly, I’m on the edge of a cliff turned into a griffin.” I told truthfully, letting this information settle in. “If what you say is true, then you truly are the Griffin Chronicle!” And there goes my hope of setting things straight! “What! No! I’m not the Griffin Chronicle you dumba-” “SILENCE!” Titan shouted, the volume of his voice sending me onto the floor. “I will not be disrespected in my own home! Chronicle or Alien, you will respect my title of lordship. Am I clear?” He asked, or rather ordering me with anger, his tone low while striking fear into me. “Yes sir.” I quipped out, nodding quickly at that. “Whether you like it or not, you have proven to be The Griffin Chronicle. It seems Destiny itself has made it so.” He stated. Getting up from his seat, he walked over to me, lending his talon hand to me. “And I shall gladly see to it that you fulfill that honor.” Grabbing my forearms, he lifted me up onto my feet. “While you may be from the beyond, the gods have graced us with you as our chosen leader. I do not know or dare I say try to comprehend their plan, but what force of nature can bring a hero from another world? Come, Jack Cobalt, we have much to discuss.” Taking a seat next to Titan, he poured me a glass of what I supposed was wine. Reluctantly, I accepted the cup of… Sparkling liquid? Is this a carbonated fizzy drink? “To the future of the world!” Clanking our glasses together, we drank our cup’s content. While tasting the supposed wine, I nearly choked at the unexpected, yet all too familiar taste. What the hell?! This is no alcohol! This stuff tastes like Classic Mountain Dew! Chugging the glass down like the Soda addict I was, I drank my cup down to the last drop and quickly poured myself another drink. “Wow, hold it! Save some for me! This stuff is hard to come by!” Titan words fell onto deaf ears as I was in dire need of some Mountain Dew! Already downed the cup empty again, I hastily reached for more. Nearly throwing my glass away, I began sucking the bottle down, horrifying the Lord of Dune City. “By the gods! Do you even know how long it took to get my hands on that bottle alone?!” He yelled out as I chugged the last mouthful of the amazing drink. “What? It’s just Mountain Dew, right?” I asked Titan, seeing his left eye twitch like the wings of a fly as his anger couldn’t be even more present. I swear he was going to blow a blood vessel or something. “This is Crystal Fall’s Magic Wine you fool! Made out of purified crystals and liquefied with magic. The Empire of Crystals has long since disappeared and getting any more of this stuff is hard to come by! You just drank a king’s worth of riches scumbag!” While I could clearly see that I had just doomed myself, I couldn’t tell if Titan was going to kill me, or spontaneously combust at any given second. “Sorry?” I stated, not knowing whether I should run for my life or try to make it up to him. Just as I was going to make a break for it, Titan closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Guards!” He summoned. A dozen or so heavily armored guards came rushing in at attention. Before I could even Leeroy Jenkins this shit, I was surrounded by poleaxes pointed inches away from my neck. Shitbuckets... “Jack Cobalt is a guest in my home and is to be treated as such. Now escort him to one of the spare rooms and for the love of the heavens! Keep him away from my cellar!” Titan ordered, the sharp ends lowered away from my neck as I sighed in relief. Being led away from the dining room, I was escorted by the guards down the well-kept long halls. “So are you guys like the CIA or something?” I asked the encased griffins, noting how their armor was much better than the others from the wall. Dressed in some form of gabbason completely encased in layers of battle worn armored plates, calling these huge griffins anything lesser than a tank would be an insult. Having a closer view and inspection, they had more than enough protection from blades and arrows. Just by my observation, I estimated the armored plates ranging from 4mm - 5mm thick. Now I’m no metal or armor expert, but that just seems way overdone. In comparison, the main chest plate thickness is the equivalent of half a penny. 9mm thick metal plate! Oh god these guys have to be hella ripped to wear this stuff. Yet, impressive as their armor was it merely wear it, the armor was basically nothing when faced to my modern firearms. At least, with only my Mauser. My revolver and shotgun are only gonna dent that shit. Speaking of weapons, their choice was a menacing polearm. I think it was a 15 ceneryish Poleaxe? With the Pike on topn, a heavy axe on one side and a skull knocking hammer on the other side. As of their sidearm was distinguished well crafted arming dagger with silver engravings. “We were the Queen’s mighty Third Legion. But since the fall of Fort Warbeak and the death of our Queen, the last of the Third Legion have taken refuge here and serve as Lord Titan’s personal guards. So to answer your question Pureblood, if this ‘CIA’ is anything like Honorbound Warriors, then I guess so.” He stated back, surprising me a bit that I got a response from under all of that armor. “How many are left of this Third Legion?” I asked, gaining a grunt of pain from him. “We used to be proud warriors in the few thousands. Yet, with the recent betrayal of Allen Claw, only a mere two hundred of us remain.” He sighed as I felt the pained memories passing over though his voice. “I’m sorry to hear that.” “Why would you care Pureblood?” He retorted back, seemingly angered at my response. “I’m the Chronicle apparently, so that’s why. Also, why is everyone calling me Pureblood?” “Do you not know what you are?” He asked, sounding quite surprised. “Thanks to whatever sadistic god, I’ve been turned into a griffin. Sorry if I don’t know what is normal for griffins or anything in this world.” I grumbled out. I was stared at for a good thirty seconds from getting a response. “Well Chronicle, a Pureblood is a griffin who isn’t altered by the magic fallout. Unlike the normal griffins of the waste, you have your vivid colors which is an obvious sign of being a Pureblood. Because you are naturally protected and resistant from the war’s aftermath, you inherit our ancestors past glory.” He said, but I still had one more question. “I get that, but why name them Purebloods? That sounds like a family linage or something.” “The reason you're called Pureblood isn’t so much of your family tree. Rather it is in literal terms of your blood’s magical levels. Those who hold magic in their veins are resistant to the curses, sicknesses, and are overall stronger because of it. The many who did not possess such traits are... considered weaker when compared to Purebloods.” The guard seemed a little uncomfortable on this subject. Strange. “Wait. So anyone with enough magic can become a Pureblood?” I asked, intrigued on this topic. “Sadly, that is not the case. From what I know, only a Pureblood father and a Pureblood mother can give birth to a magic protected child. Though there is Lexus…” He drifted off. “Who’s Lexus?” The heavy armored griffin let out sighed. “Lexus Songbird is… A successful experiment as the 2nd Legion call it. Birthed from impure parents but holds all the qualities of a Pureblood… The rest of the detail aren't any my business as that was the 2nd Legion’s work, not mine.” He told, pausing a bit as he seemed to remember something or trying to forget. “Anyhow, even with the rarity of your kind, you have many advantages over the other griffins. Purebloods are considered to be royalty as most hold some kind of power or higher position in the land. Besides that, you are the brightest colored one I’ve met so far. And you are also the first one I’ve seen to get their talons dirty in a fight. Definitely a living snowball in Tartarus.” He remarked as I listened to him, taking every word into my memory. “So I’m not only considered to be a divine savior of an entire race, but royalty as well? How Ironic.” I thought out loud as I was brought to a door. Opening it, I found a neatly cleaned room with a good sized bed the looked fit for a king. Not the ridiculously sized beds to hold five people kind, but the silk sheets and quality sewn blankets were of a king’s quality. Not even looking back at the guards, I flopped onto the bed as I sunk into the softness. Not even caring about taking off my dirty armor, I embraced the idea of slumber. By now my brain was fried and needed a break from all of this. I’m done fighting against their logic as it was impossible to convince them otherwise. I might as well just go with the flow and get shit sorted. Even if it mean going up against another dragon… Shivering at the mere thought, I rolled over onto the center of the bed and cover myself up with the blankets. Even in my armor, I felt very comfortable in this heavenly bed. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll wake up and this’ll be just a strange dream... Oh how wrong I was. The next day was the final nail in the coffin as some would put it. By morning, I finally accepted that this magical realm of religious talking griffins was reality. Even as ridiculous as that sounds, there was no denying it. This was not a dream or some messed up coma, this was real. Everything felt to real for it to be such. All the way down to my beating heart, I now accepted that I was totally screwed. I had no family to call for, no friends to back me up, and no home to stay in. I was completely alone in this world with not a dime to my name. Well, I had these gold coins… Bits, I think they were called that. Anyway! All I had was what I could carry and thank to my mouth, or beak in this case, I’m now the proclaimed savior of the universe! God smite me now! Besides my sudden and unwanted fame, I was still very lost on how this world worked. Besides what that elder and Third Legion guy told me, I don’t know shit. I needed to figure out how I’m gonna to do this. I mean, I’m by far no hero. I’m just a guy lucky enough to have moderately wealthy parents and live off of it. Hell, I barely passed high school. I don’t even know kung fu, yet I’m proclaimed a badass! Well, I did kill a dragon, and that was badass… As I thought deeply on what to do next, I stared into a decorated mirror. “Seeing my face for the first time…” Man, it felt so weird saying that. I heard and recognized my voice, but all I saw was a cobalt blue griffin saying it. I’m probably never gonna get used to this, but I’ll make do with what I got I guess. Besides the weirdness of my movement corresponding with my griffin reflection, I got a good look of myself. Oddly enough, I found to liking how I looked. And strangely enough, I felt some power from seeing myself as well. I guess I am the chosen one. I had a strong curved black beak with cobalt blue and silverish white feathers. But what stuck out like a sore thumb was the fact that I had ears. Yes, I said that right, EARS! Unlike every other griffin I’ve seen, they had holes on the side of their heads. Me? I got wolf like ears with black tips. As if this couldn’t get stranger enough, my yellow eyes seemed to almost glow with some kind of power. May it be that I’m now part cat or I can shoot magical lasers, I really didn’t know. Anything is possible now... Besides my body, my cloak was damaged with a few burn marks as well was my armor. While the armor sustained little to no actual damage, it still looked dirty after fighting a dragon in the rubble and ash. Then the obvious reason popped into my mind. “I need to take a bath.” I mumbled, noticing that I also grime up the bed with scorched dirt and flaked ash. “Damnit. God, why do you hate me?” I asked sarcastically. As if on cue, I heard a few knocks from the door. “I was being sarcastic!” Surprised at the sudden sound, I drew my revolver in panic, gaining an quite yet noticeable epp. “Umm… Room Service?” Calming myself down and holstering the gun, I opened the door to find a young looking Griffin with some cleaning supplies. “Who are you?” I asked, gazing down at her as I had my talon resting on the holster. “I’m just a servant?” She stated, unsure with her words. “Well, what do you want?” I asked again, now noticing how nervous she was. “Lord Titan wishes to know if you want to dine with him.” She told me. “Sure. I’ll just need to get my armor off and get cleaned. Do you know where I can take a shower? ” I asked, seemingly confusing the griffin. “Oh! Um, the bathing rooms are on the west side second hall.” She said, now confusing me a bit. “Do you mind if you can show me where it is? I’m kinda lost here.” As if on instinct, she agreed and lead me down the long hallways and soon, we were in a large spa like area. There was even a huge swimming pool and a few tubs for cleaning. Walking to a nearby table, I began disarming myself, laying my guns and blades down. I also began talking my armor and clothes off, which proved to be a bit of a problem as I had absolutely no idea how I got them on in the first. When I did get them off, I put then on the side in a neatly made pile. I glanced over my shoulder to see that the griffin was still there, blushing madly. Having no idea if I was super sexy or her just being totally awkward, I sighed. I’m guessing that it was probably both. “You know you can go now. Right?” I stated as I got her out of stupor. “Oh, I didn’t mean to disrespect you! Please don’t fire me!” She begged, getting onto her knees. “Hey hey hey. Calm down, nobody's gonna fire you.” Trying to calm her down with my words, I walked over to her. “You did nothing wrong. In fact, you helped me.” Surprised, she looked up at me with hope in her eyes. “What’s your name?” I asked, lending my talons to her. “My name? Um… My name is Rose.” Rose said, hesitantly taking me arm and got herself back up. “Nice to meet you Rose. I’m Jack.” I replied, trying to give a reassuring smile. “Are you… Are you really here to save us?” She asked, looking at me for hope. Damn it! Why are those eyes so cute? “I… While I cannot fix everything with a snap, I can do what I can with the time I’m given.” I said, unsure as what I was really gonna do. I mean, I know I’m supposed to save and rebuild a Empire, but how exactly am I gonna do that? Yet my words seemed to bring joy to her. “Well, I’m gonna take a bath so... I’ll see ya around?” After Rose left me alone, I began dipping into the warm water. Oh good lord that feels nice! “Oh Yeah… That is what I needed.” I sighed, letting my body soak up the water. Now only if this could last forever… Sadly, everything has to come to an end at some point. After I cleaned myself up, I began cleaning the grime off of my armor. Using some spare rags, I polished the metal plates and scalemail to prime. As I finished putting the armor back on, I locked and loaded my guns with the safety obviously on. All three firearms were in perfect working condition. But if I was being really picky, I could say I need to give the Mauser’s barrel a good cleaning since it I’ve used it a bunch. I mean, this K98K has served in use of german hands since 1942 and has continued on from some grandpa's war trophy to my elk slaying rifle. Obviously, the scope wasn’t part of the original package, but I did keep this rifle of world war 2 in the best conditions as I could. As I was sheathing my blades, a knock came upon the door. “Chronicle, Lord Titan request you to breakfast.” As on cue, my stomach began grumbling, telling me to get my ass moving. Agreeing immediately, I joined the two armored griffins as I walked with haste. When we did reached the dining room, my senses were immediately assaulted with pleasure. I don’t know if they were cooks from heaven or my sense of smell was greatly improved, I didn’t care. I was fixated on the perfectly roasted meat and scrambled eggs awaiting to be eaten. “Well Jack, what are you waiting for?” Titan said, getting me out of my stupor. Nearly hurling myself to my seat, I began filling up my plate with the heavenly food. “Why god? Why do you hate me?” I groaned as I clutched my belly. While still in pain, I regret nothing. I don’t care if my body wants to die, for that food was amazingly good. In fact, eating with a beak is different than with normal teeth. I ate too big of bite sizes and now I’m back in bed, ready to just give up on life. “Which one?” Titan asked between laughs. Oh yeah, Titan was mocking me the entire time. He said that I deserve this for drinking his wine. “Karma.” I replied, laying my head back down. His laughing soon stopped as he probably didn’t get the joke. “I’ve never heard of Karma. Which one is she... Or is this god a he?” He asked. Damnit, now we're getting onto religious subjects. That is the last thing I want right now. “She’s been considered a bitch at times, but overall, she is fair with what you get with what you do in life. Even in the end. Like a good and honest person living a life of ruin will be gifted a afterlife of happiness and prosperity. The evil person living in luxury on the misery of others will face hell both in their life and in the afterlife. At least, I think that how it works. I’m not as religious as you are.” Sliding out of bed, I landed onto my feet… Or paws I guess… Damnit I hate this new terminology! “Where are you going?” “A walk.” I replied, all the while ignoring his concerns. I quickly holstered my revolver and I continued to walk throughout the palace until I was blocked by two of those heavily armored knights. Before I could ask them to get out of my way, Titan caught up. “Chronicle, you cannot seriously be leaving us!” “I’m not, I just want to get some fresh air. I need to give my head so rest” I retorted, walking past the two griffins and out of the palace. I was met with no more intrusions after that. I continued my walk through the city until I found the main trading center. Buyers and sellers looked at me in awe as I passed them by, gazing over their products. I continued to walk until I came upon a workshop of sorts. I took note of the Griffin working on some red dragon scales. He must be the blacksmith Titan was talking about yesterday.   “So what are you forging with those dragon scales?” I asked, gaining a irritated grunt. “For thee last time Vicky, dragon scales are not forgeable ya doof!” The griffin yelled back, not even turning his head. I got a closer look at what he was doing. He was sharpening the scale’s edge with a simple stone grinder.   “It’s Jack actually-” “I don’t care what yee mum named ya, if ya don’t got any business in me shop, don’t bother me!” He yelled, still fixated on his work. “I’m here to see what creations you’ve made with my kill.” I spoke with more of authoritarian tone this time, gaining his attention. The grindstone came to a halt as he slowly turned his head at me. The face I got was quite scary. The left side of his face was burnt badly as his left eye was a old milky white. In fact, each side was so distinctive that it was like he had two separate faces. “Yee the Chronicle?” he asked in a low tone, gazing over my armor. “I prefer to be called Jack.” I simply replied, giving a straight face. “Yee really slayed this dragon?” He asked, eye widen with wonder. “Yes, but to tell you the truth, it was a lucky shot.” He scoffed at me, shaking his head. “It seems all anyone needs is a bit of god’s luck in this world.” The blacksmith told, sighing as he rubbed his sacred face. “Yeah, lucky me.” I mumbled. He didn’t seem to get my sarcasm. “Besides yee luck, what do I owe the pleasure?” “I was wondering what you were making with those dragon scales.” I pointed out. “Come here, I’ll show ya.” Walking into the shop, I found the room to be somewhat of a mess. Many tools laying in differentially arranged piles all over the room as there was some moldy food on the counter. He lead me down another corner and unlocked a door. Inside the closet was a bunch of dragon scale weapons. The weapons in particular were odd to say the least. The longer scales were sharpened into short swords and smaller ones were into spears. The red blades were oval shaped and seem to be sharper than razors. There were a few thicker ones that were sharpened into a circle shape. These ones are put on the end of a reinforced handle, making it a ‘O’ shaped axe/spade hybrid of sorts. “How do you keep the scales connected with the the handles?” “A crafter are ya? Well, since I can't just drill a hole and bolt em together or made a tang, I grinded a hole here see, into the bottom of the scale.” He showed his example the a scale that had deep oval shaped hole into the weaker unsharpened base. But what caught my eye was that he drilled a six pencils sized holes inside drilled hole at an angle deeper into the red scale. “While I was figuring how to get em scales to hold strong to their handles, I got the idea grand idea of making the cast with the scale. Since these are dragons scales, their immunes to being melted or ruined by the molten metal. But as ye have noticed, I needed to make sure that the cast held strong to them scales. So I carved six tunnels into the base, allowing the melted metal to have a stronger grip. That way, in battle yee won't see em scales lose or breaking off the handle. This keeps em bond strong as one. After that, I poured the molten metal into em hole see. And with this cast I formed the tang to make the handles.” He showed, as he continued his work at the his forge. “Obviously, I used different casts to make the different weapons. Like with the spear, the hand is the harden wood staff. So as yee see, the wood slides into the spear handle like dis. Just adda few strong nails into these parts and abra cadabra! A dragon scale spear! “Very impressive, forging your own medium into the blade to create a stronger and reliable handle. Very smart…” I started, testing the one of the blade’s sharpness by grazing my finger/talon across the blade edge. It was very sharp. “Thanks.” He smiled with glee as I found his craftsmen's ship to be top quality. Or at least it was good enough to impress me. “So how long have you been a blacksmith?” I asked out of curiosity. “Since yesterday.” “Really? I find that hard to believe.” I retorted, putting the finely crafted weapon down. “I was the apprentice before that dragon attacked. Old Beakworks fell into the smelting pot. As yee can see, I didn’t make it out unscaved.” He said, rubbing his burt face. Damn, now I feel like a dick. “Sorry to hear that. I am sorry for-” “No, ye don’t need to give an apology. But what I want is scales, care to slay any more of em?” He asked, gaining a laugh from me. “Alright, I make sure you get the scales and bones of the next dragon I slay.” With a shake of our talons, the agreement was made. God, what have I done… > Chapter 4: Stories & Lore > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Today is what… The third day? Yeah, that's right. It is the third day so far in this wonderland turned wasteland. And honestly, I’m doing pretty fine. I mean, being titled as the savior of the local populace has it’s up side. While I’m not getting ridiculously sized meals or being adorned in gold, it is way better than being lost, hungry, and alone in the wasteland. So that’s definitely a plus in my book. Speaking of being hungry, my stomach now has finally agreed with my now digested food. From now on, I will take smaller bites of food. Now that I’ve learned my lesson to chew my food, I felt quite full after dinner with Titan. Obviously after eating a big dinner, you need to take a big shit. Well, I’ll gotta say it was about the same experience with my old human form. It was shitty, and not entertaining. Unsurprisingly though, these griffons don’t have any form of plumbing to speak of. So said shit went into a bucket. A shitbucket. … I’m bad at jokes and I know it. And I will never stop~ Anyways, Titan had requested me again to his throne room. Said room also happened to be the dining room and served as the courtroom when needed. And I can’t even be mad, if anything, I’m kinda… Pleased? I think? Well, I never understood how those fantasy worlds had gigantic castles/homes but wasted the space with exaggerated sized rooms. So at least he makes use of the available space he has. Now that I think about it, this is more realistic and kinda smart on his part. More space for storage and whatnot. I wonder if back in the ancient days, did our castles followed a similar pattern? Probably not. I was drawn from my thoughts as the guard that had been escorting me had announced my name to Titan. Looking up, I saw Titan sitting on his throne. Well, now that I think about it, it wasn’t technically a throne to begin with. Hell, it wasn’t even a chair. What was it then? Well first off, there were 6 gigantic fluffy pillows sewn together on top of an old king sized bed. Annoyingly, the old box springs creek with his movements. I guess having a pillow throne makes sense when considering that griffins are half cat… And it does look comfy… “Chronicle! Good to see that you’ve finally awaken. I have a proposal for today's events!” Titan started. For being a city lord with bulking mass of muscles, he can be quite eccentric. At least when he sees or talks about me… I really don’t want to see him disappointed, at least, for my own sake. “And what would that be Titan?” “I say that we should go on the Hunt! Slay a mighty beast and feast on our spoils together!” Damn, he is really excited today. At least he isn’t suggesting to fight me to the death. Hopefully, it stays that way. “You know what, sure. I’d actually like to get out and stretch my wings. That might be fun.” I replied with honesty. I’m well rested over by now and my wing do feel a bit sore just hanging there. Not like there’s Youtube or any from of entertainment to watch around here. “Great! After I don my armor, we shall venture southeast. There we shall find amany monster to say!” Oh no, please no more dragons. As expected of a king like person, Titan’s room was big, butr his closet was even bigger. Why? I don’t even know. At first I thought he was gonna ‘don his armor’ as he said he would, but it seems he changed his mind to let's play dress up. “How do I look Chronicle?” Titan asked, taking on various heroic poses. “Well, you look absolutely terrifying to fight against. That’s for sure.” I answered, gawking a bit at how badass and just well, terrifying he looked. For example, his helmet-mask combo is of the ‘I’m going to enjoy devouring up everything you know and love’ kind of scary. He had a full faceplate that covered his entire head, only leaving an opening for his lower beak to move. The head gear was comprised of two parts; the mask and the helmet. The mask part was made entirely of a smove nonreflective light gray metal. Then what was the scary part? There was this seemingly transparent layer of black and red that constantly waved and formed mixed patterns. The parts around his face and feathers formed patterns of oozing blood and fleshy muscle. The beak was whitened with random sprouts of red dripping downwards and black veins crawling and bulging with the rest of the flesh like mask. And lastly ware the eyes. They were a constant inferno of spiraling yellow orbs with bright orange pupils that burned the flesh around it. “Really? Is that so?” “Yup, that mask is a real life horror movie.” “I believe you mean that it is powerful?” He suggested, not knowing what a movie is. For some reason I thought he would. I should have expected that since I’m in fairytale apocalyptia. “As powerful as it appears to be, yeah.” I answered, still being creeped out. “Well yes it should be, for it is a magical mask. More specifically, it is called The Mask of Mortal Mentality. And yet again, you prove yourself true Chronicle.” “How so? It’s just a mask, creepy in its own right, but how does it prove anything?” “Not all as it seems Chronicle. For this mask does not only instills fear in the enemy, but the wearer can hypnotise lesser willed or weak minded beings. This mask is said to have brought entire groups into complete terror and fear for their lives. But as expected of the true Chronicle, you are strong and unaffected by its magical deception.” He praised while still wearing it. “I’m not so sure about that. The damn thing looks like a mess of red and black sewn flesh.” “Is that what you see? I’ve never gotten that description before…” Titan began to mumble under his breath for abit, the mask seeming to change expressions with his thoughts. “I’m afraid to ask how you got your hands- err… Talons on that mask.” “If your expecting a tale of adventure, then I’m sorry to say that there isn’t one. I found the mask deep within this place, past the floors and under all of the stones. There is a room filled with odd trinkets and some blades of the old world. That is where I stumbled upon this mask.With the small journal I found with it, this mask is a powerful relic belonged to one of the seven high commanders.” Titan said, taking said mask off and finally ending all the shivers down my spine. “Who were these high commanders?” I asked, finally able to feel relaxed. “Well, the best way to describe these heroes is in their legends, but I’ll save though stories for another time. But one thing you should know is that they are more commonly referred to as the seven great griffons. They are the ones who united all griffons and brought about the second empire. They are the founding mothers and fathers that built the structures that still stand. The seven finished construction of these castles years before the great war of the Master and the Apprentice; the war that ended the reign of the gods.” “More history that I know nothing about… And why am I getting star wars vibs?” “And from the few records and books that I have read, this place wasn't always a city. For in the glory days of the past, this place used to be a fort of sorts. A small one as it might be, was important and has been used as a checkpoint between the bigger and still standing castles of Ascension Empire.” “Woah. Hold it! Did you just say that this place, a large doubled walled fort is simply an outpost? How big are these castles?” I asked, hoping that it was nothing too ludicrous like skyscraper heights like in Attack on Titan. “Oh trust me Chronicle, they are a grand sight to see. To my knowledge, there are the five castles in the wasteland- Quick, follow me, I’ll show you.” Titan abruptly began leaving the room, leading me down the halls. We made two more turns before we came to a stop at a reinforced door. Titan, with excitement on his face, grabbed a chain from under his feathered neck and drew a large key. Unlocking the heavy door, we entered into the dark room. Then, unexpectedly, the room lit up with bright crystals lights being the source. “Amazing, isn’t it Chronicle. The lights of the old world still work in this room.” “Reminds me a bit of home.” I thought out loud, glancing over a wall spanning shelves filled to the brim with books. Most of said books looking like their about to fall apart or easily tear upon touch. “Welcome to my personal study. Here I have a map of the known wasteland.” “Known? You don’t have any world maps?” They don’t have any maps of the planet? Or a globe? Eh, this place is fantasy turned wasteland, might be a square minecraft world for all I know. “Well… No, I don’t. I have only the areas that my cartographer has visited.” He admitted. Leading me to a large table against the wall, there we found the map nailed to the table. After getting a closer look, I saw that the map was finely painted with great detailed while keeping a artistic style. “This here is my map Chronicle. I’ve had an artist scour the wasteland and draw out all the fine details. From the heights of the cold killing north to the southern borders of the dragon lands, I am proud to say that I have the most updated and accurate map in the wasteland. Along here in the west, we have the many mountains ranges that separate the inhospitable and rusted over coast from the rest of the wasteland.” Titan explained. The entire west edge of the map was nothing but high and jagged mountain ranges. Apparently, nothing can survive over on the coast, because entire place was engulfed with what I can assume was magical nukes. These high mountains mainly served as natural protective barrier between onslaught of whatever this “rust” was. So that was important to know, I guess. “While my cartographer mostly graphed and mapped all around the major holds and towns, the rest of the lands have enough needed detail. These red blobs and shaded outlines here Chronicle, are the lands still claimed by rust and will kill anything that enters. These five here are the majorly known Rusted Zones. If not venuring on the main roads, make sure to stay clear of it from at least one mile from the zones for your own sake.” Titan showed, pointing out finely detailed red outlines and what to look out for. “Sorry to interrupt you, but what is Rust? I keep hearing you talk about it, but I don’t know what it is exactly. Is it like a form of Radiation?” As I questioned, I got a stern look before that dropped to a frown. I don’t know how he does that with a beak, maybe I’m seeing things differently? By the looks on Titan, I’m guessing he just remembered that I’m completely foreign to this world. “Rust is a horrible and incurable poison that still kills many. A terrible magical weapon it is, only ever used in the final acts of Great War. Just a cut from a rust infused object such as a shard of the stuff can be enough to doom any living being. Before you ask Chronicle, I don’t know how it works, nor do I ever want to. I don’t know why there are still rust zones, they are just there and still kill life.” He told, seeming to know my thinking. And totally not creepy. I wonder what symptoms means your infected? “As how to tell if some griffon is infected? Feathers fall off, skin boils, burns, and peels off in bloody burnt orange. Muscles harden stiff and rip apart like old fabric. The Rust quickly grows all over and falls off the infected, turning flesh to flaky ash. Within a mere day, the Rust can consume a griffon and leave nothing left. Just a small pile of undone life.” Titan told, expressing a bit of sorrow in his description. “Damn, this Rust stuff sound like a chemical weapon on magical steroids. Just… Damn.” “I’m glad you see our suffering Chronicle. Not many purebloods bother to pity us, when they are nearly immune to the rusting.” I quickly perk up, looking back up at him. “Wait. Does that mean I’m immune to it?” “Well… Since you are undoubtedly the most purest of Purebloods… Yes, I believe you could be immune-” OH THANK THE SPOOKY SKELETON ON THE GOLDEN TOILET! That’s a relief! Yay! No super cancer for me! “Ehh. Back to the map here Chronicle.” Drawing back my attention to the map, Titan pointed down near the very mid southern part of the map. “Here is where we are located Chronicle.” Dune City was located low middle that was more leaning to southern part of the map. Looking down from us, I saw that south of us was some small mountains that curved to the southwest and off the map. On the very southern mapped edge by the small mountains, there the town that was burned down. The town itself was labeled Diamond City. “These Golden Diamonds symbols here, represent as the Great Castles I was talking about earlier. Do you want to know about them?” I simply nod, intrigued as what these places are about. “Well, a short day trip north of us is the closest castle to us, which is surrounded by dead dry land. The area that surrounds it is simply known as The Bygone. It is a very inhospitable place with a number of dangers, monster and griffons alike. The area is not completely lawless mind you, but crime is usually dealt strictly with death. While I’ve long forgotten what the castle original name was, it seems so has the rest of its citizens. Now that I think about it, that is quite strange…” Titan looked down at the floor zoning out in deep thought. “So… What is the castle referred to as? It’s not just called That Castle, right?” With my questions bringing Titan back from his thoughts, he looked up at me with the answer. “Oh, it’s simply referred as the Bygone Castle.” Now seeming to remember what he was doing, he looked back at the map. “Back to the topic, the place has long since seen better days. While I have only ever visited the castle once, I won’t and don’t recommend going there. The air was thick enough to choke on, the griffons living there are in constant civil distrust, and the whole structure seems to be on the brink of collapse.” “Sounds similar to the middle east.” I mumbled under my breath. “Now if we go north, past the Bygone, we land on a mining village called Rad Reach. Nothing too important beside the poisoned metal that is mined there. I ask you to be weary of any red metal blades Chronicle, for they make quite the deadly cut. Now follow the old stone road up northeast and you reach Windhelm Castle. As the name implies, it is much colder climate with strong wind. Said to be strong enough that Griffons could just glide on the strong winds.” “Sounds fun, but I’m guessing that it is dangerous?” I inquired, gaining a nod from the large griffon. “Indeed it is. Weak wings will only get buried under the heavy wind and snow. Honestly I would rather be in control of my flight as I don’t put my faith in such luck.” I give him my best ‘are you serious?’ face I could. “O’really?” It seems that he caught on to my jesting this time. “Even if you don’t recognise the great power you hold, I see how important your destiny is. Your displacement by the higher powers has a purpose, Chronicle. There reasons may eliud us, but they are reasons by gods nonetheless.” “It’s not about my new dragon slaying abilities; I think the powers are ficking awesome. I just honestly don’t feel that I’m suited for being some other worldly Messiah. I mean, I’m no great leader, nor am I some military trained conqueror. Never have I ever wanted that kind of responsibility; to have the power over so many is just daunting.” Titan smiled, as if reliving an old memory. “Ah yes, I remember reading a book about a great wizard; a pony called Trotter, or was it Potter? Whatever the name was, the pony is said to be the father to ponykind magic. The great wizard said something that suits this situation perfectly. ’Perhaps those who are best suited for power are those who have never sought it.’” “Yeah, I think I’ve heard something like that too. We have a story about a young hero called Spiderman, a man who gained superpowers and fights crime. What I remember is that he was told a quote by his uncle about how great power comes great responsibility.” “A truthful statement to be fair as I’ve had to deal with quite a few responsibilities myself when I took the throne from King Direwing.” “You took over this city?” “What? Me? Complete takeover? Ha! No, far from that. I… Well, I had made many alliances with the residents here in overthrowing him from power. King Direwing was a… Uncaring ruler at best. As forcing down strict taxes and a few other things quickly gained him unpopularity. As of how I took the throne? Well, that is an adventure I will tell. Come, sit.” Titan walked over to a chair and jesting his talon hands for me take a seat. Sitting down, I saw pull out a scroll from his desk. “My ascension to becoming king is not of battle. While I am a warrior at heart, but I did not take this city over by force. To simplify the story, I use the laws of this place to my advantage. You see Chronicle, how this city works is with the traders, for they have always held a good say as what happens here. So whoever owns the big business, holds a key as to how thing run here. But under King Direwing, policies changed to more of a dictatorship, but a lot of the old laws and customs still applied. Such as this.” Handing me the scroll, I carefully opened it to find that it was titled as the Dune City’s Rules of Trade. “The laws written here state that if a Griffon who hold 30% or more of city trade has the right to challenge change to the King’s laws, and question his right to holding the position of power.” “So you bought up the market and challenged him to a one on one duel?” I questioned, gaining a silent chuckle from Titan shaking his head. “Not quite simple as that my friend. As I’ve said, I made many alliances; one of main deals was all of the in-city traders. Eventually, I would claim total ownership of all local business for one month. Though I promised to pay each member for their troubles and many more agreements once I ascended to the throne. That consortium of pacts totaled up to 26% hold over the city trade, which was not enough. So to reach that 30% mark, I made a pact with Rad Reach. I would promise them one year free of taxation immediately when I claimed power. In return, I was to be given total control and hold of their cursed metalwork trade for one month.” “So then what? Did you make any other deals?” “No, the pact with Rad Reach gave me 39% trade hold, which gave me the right to challenge King Direwing’s law. Since he was ignorant of the laws and believe his word is law, he torn apart my demand and order for my death. But before he could do such, I declared my challenge to his rule to the city. And for once in his life, his wings were tied down from his high throne. Obviously, with me being the better warrior and not some fattened tyrant, I killed him and claimed the rights to king.” “That is… Quite the story Titan, but I got a question. If you are a king, then why do you have everyone calling you a lord?” “If I were to be a king, I would need to have a castle to rule in, and as I said before, I don’t own one. Besides, the title of king was self appointed by Direwing himself. And I rather not be entitled to such things as I rule in shared power, while kings rule in absolute.” He answered, taking back the scroll and storing it back into his desk. “Yeah, you totally don’t have a freakin’ castle. So how long have you’ve been the king- I mean, Lord of Dune City then?” “Under my leadership? I’ve had Dune City running fine and prospering for 3 years so far. As you can see, I’ve long since made things better for the griffons living here. But with the west splitting into war, I fear that times ahead will be rough. Weather we be selling a sword of a sack of grain, trading with the either faction makes us a ‘justified’ target.” “Sounds like a bad business to deal blindly there, but I’m guessing with less trade the demand for paid goods will get higher?” My question seemed to bring a greedy smile to Titan’s beak. With me being turned into a griffon, I somehow knew he was smiling even though griffons don’t have any lips. “Very keen of you Chronicle. Yes, the risks in travel will rise, but the prices for goods themselves will rise higher. But I fear that Dune City has, or will be seen as a target to the Raven Enclave.” “Why is that?” My questioned seemed to frustrate Titan before he sighed it away. “Chronicle, you know so little and need to know so much. To to answer the many questions you will undoubtedly have on this subject, I must help you understand the upbringings of the Raven Enclave. So first, let’s go back to the map.” Rising from our seats, I followed titan and looked over the map once again. “Starting from Dune City, if we go on the old highway roads west, past this small town of Novac, brings us into the lands of the Skywalker Family.” “Skywalkers? What are they, Jedi?” I joked, though Titan didn’t seem to understand the reference. He also was angry about being interrupted again. “Um, sorry. Please continue.” Taking his hard gaze away from me, we returned our attention to the greatly detailed map. “As I was saying, the Skywalkers are a… Family of business, trading throughout in the wasteland. Owning very rich lands, they consider themselves royalty. They have old machines that rids the salt from seawater. Though they don’t just make their money with fresh water. With the waters of life, they now have fertile lands to grow crops and wildlife that flourish all around. Do know that the Skywalkers aren’t the only ones to have mastered this as the northeast holds green life as well.” “Now the Raven Enclave reside directly north of the Skywalkers, their home is a underground castle that is built within and along the great raven mountains. The castle is known as Raven Rock, and from what I know is something referred to as a bunker; a place to hold things of great importance and served as something abbreviated as an H.Q. Whatever it means, I know that it is important.” “Don’t you mean headquarters? Because that’s what HQ mean. From what I know, Headquarters is a term meaning a stationed base for the head of command or organization. At least, I think so.” I suggested, now seeing the metaphorical gears turning in his head. “I think you could be right about that Chronicle, for it would indeed suit such a place. Besides the name, the castle itself is in all regards, a unbreakable fortress with it being part of the mountains itself. The gigantic shield shaped door that is said to be the purest of metals and remains impenetrable. It serves as the only entrance into the mountain, and serves as the only exit out.” “That sounds like some airtight security alright.” I comment, gaining a smile from the bronze griffon. “Indeed. Now, getting into the details, Raven Rock opened its gates 18 or so years ago. Griffons clad in black armor came in conquering and burning the lands around. The Skywalker’s griffons were their first target and suffered slaughters of anyone who wasn’t pureblood. Those who were Pureblood were taken back into the depths of Raven Rock, never to be seen again. They continued on doing this for 6 years, small skirmishes and a few dozen battles along the way. Now after years of choking off the Skywalkers from escape, the Raven Enclave had begun to form up an invasion of the Castle. For the Skywalkers, in their seemingly hopeless situation, a silver lining was found.” “The White Queen, Winter Shatter-Shield sent in 7,000 battle hardened soldiers to repel the invaders. The battle was bloody, the casualties were high, yet the Warriors of Windhelm fought on hard and ultimately saved the skywalkers from their pairal. Slaughtering the many of the Raven Enclave, the cold warriors drove them back to Raven Rock. The black griffons escaped and sealed their unbreakable tomb. The Raven Enclave would remain silent, locked away until ten years later, the titanic door opened, once again releasing the raven black killers. Unexpectedly, instead of sending out a message of war, they sent a message of peace to Windhelm, asking to negotiate.” “In their message, they claimed to be leaders of the Ascension Empire or at least they are the descendants of them. The Enclave told that they had hailed from the destroyed coast, were the Capital Griffonstone once stood. With such an outrageous claim few actually consider it to be the triuth. Understandably, the Skywalkers refused to partake in any talks with them and so did Queen Winter, but the nobles of Windhelm pushed on in seeking out their claims. Why? Well, to make a mess of situation much simpler Chronicle, no griffon wants to fight another war; Raven Enclave or not. The many resources had dried up in the north are still today strained and stretched thin, leaving little to waste.” “So begrudgingly, the two parties talked and started to make a shaky relationship. I don’t know much as what they discussed, but it seemed that the Enclave had learned their lesson. That is what it appeared to be until a year ago, a bloody coup was made in Windhelm which ended with many dead. The Queen Shatter-Shield escaped the chaos and retreated to Fort Warbeak with the loyal legions in toll. Though when they arrived, the fort had been besieged under the enclave’s magical fire, dooming hope of safety. With no secure location left, the loyal surviving 2nd, 3rd, and 7th legions retreated south seeking refuge at Skywalker Castle.” “Um, sorry to interrupt, but what are all of these Legions?” I asked, seeming to have hit a fuse within the bronze winged griffon’s mind. “Well now, since you're as smart and mannered as a hatchling, I’ll just break away from my great storytelling and answer the obviously more important question!” Titan lashed out, seemingly growing another foot over me which did all the more to terrify me. “Sorry, I was never a good listener in school! So please don’t kill me.” I meeped out cowardly. I had no shame of being afraid either because who could blame me? He was currently the enraged griffon version of Mike Tyson. I don’t have any of my weapons on me, beside my sword, so I was doomed... Or so I thought. “I… Apologize for my outburst Chronicle. I have a great hate for being interrupted, the feeling being treated as a lesser consumes me with rage from time to time.” Titan lowered his aggressive stance, his feathers now unruffled and coming back down to reasonable eye level. “Good to know, I uh.. I forgive you.” I reassured, nodding my head back to the map. Titan being happy with my words, the big griffon cleared his throat before speaking. “There are seven total Legions of Windhelm. At the top there is the 1st Legion of Leaders, for they are the griffons being the appointed rulers and leaders. Next is the 2nd Legion of Knowledge, the protectors of history, customs, knowledge, and records. And from what I’ve heard, some guard their knowledge to death. If you haven’t noticed, the fine griffons in plated armor are the 3rd Legion that represents Honor. They are made up of the lawmakers, guards, peacekeepers, warriors, and smiths. Now the ones in the city are the Royal Guards to the Queen herself. Now the infamous 4th Legion of War, they are the warriors who make up the bulk of Allen Claw’s Army. I’ll tell you about him later.” “As of the 5th Legion of Sky, they are the great griffons who can control the harsh winter weather and own the northern skies. During the coup, many 5th Legion’s members were split between joining the traitors or remaining loyal. Sadly most sadly joined the traitors as their leader is under Allen’s command. The 6th Legion is of the Home, comprised of citizens of the fair working class such as Carpenters, Dealers, Farmers, and many other trades. Lastly, there is the 7th Legion of Spells, as they manage the use, teachings, and understandings of the magical art. Surprisingly, nearly all of the 7th escaped the entire coup. I think they just might have foreseen these events...” Titan’s thoughts trailed off for a few second, before shaking his head. “Now back the damned Raven Enclave, they have likely stirred these events to unfold and are possibly working with the current leader in Windhelm. That leader is General Allen Claw, head of the group calling itself White Sky. Now this ‘White Sky’ controls Windhelm and I fully believe that the damn traitors are collaborating with the Raven Enclave. This means that the next target in their sights will be the Skywalkers. Now the reason that we are a target is because of what this city is. We are the last trade point of the East and the West. Cut off Dune City, cut off any hope of help from the Westerners.” “If that’s so… Are they gonna take over now? In fact, how do you know this Enclave will do that?” “Well… I admit I don’t know their plans Chronicle. Rather I just think of it as if I were in their black boots. I would probably continue with the plan the Enclave tried last time, because it worked so well before Windhelm got involved. The only change I would make this time would to rid any possible outside factors could interfere.” “Well… Then why haven’t the Enclave invaded us yet?” I asked, gaining a low chuckle from Titan. “Ah, now that is the question that has been plaguing me Chronicle. The Enclave has been quite for nearly two weeks now, and the only interesting thing happening lately is you appearing on my doorstep.” His smile returned as he stretched his large silver bronze wings. “Beside all the impending doom, I believe we have a hunt to begin.” Following close behind, we left Titan’s study room, readying ourselves to stalk the wastelands. “Please god, no dragons this time.” > Chapter 5: Suicide Hunting Trip [Redux] > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Titan stood in waiting, leaning on the side of an old door. His impatience slightly showing through with the audible grinding of his beak. Geared up in light armor consisting of padded clothes with an overlay of thick, well fitted chainmail. The only thing that could be considered heavy would be his large chestplate that reached from his collar down to his toned abdomen. No jewels or anything considered fancy could be seen, as Titan was a griffon of practicality, and did not endorse on wearing his wealth. However, he had adorned a dark helm of notably finer craftsmanship. A few deep engraving in the metal could be easily spotted by the rims of the helmet. It was a simple 3 parallel zig-zag lines that was masterfully keeping the pattern to perfection. The helmet also extended covering over his beak, the thick metal matching and fitting his own to every detail. Surprisingly, the two large upside down glass triangles served as the eyeholes. The glass like material had a transparent crystal like shimmer, as if suggesting having magical properties. Unlike his helm, the rest of is armor was plain and not nearly as noteworthy, yet was undoubtedly tailored to fitting Titan’s form with great quality. Just like his armor, his weapons were matching to his strong character with nothing fancy or flashy. His chosen weapon being large bow, similar in like of the english longbow. Currently, the bow’s string was undone, meant to keep the bow great strength from waning and evidently lasting longer in use. His quiver filled with equally large arrow to match as well. As for Titan’s second weapon, it was a short, yet hefty looking straight sword, with a thick single edge blade with a specific design in mind. The blade made heavy for hacking like a clever and just long enough for cutting entire limbs of in a single slash. The handle was simple, worn wood bolted into the long tang and left without any form of a guard or pommel. Overall, this blade was a weapon designed specifically for a butcher, tearing through both flesh and bone. “You have everything set Chronicle?” Titan asked impatiently through the old door, his talons tapping the floor eagerily. “Yeah, just let me double check!” I called out, quickly glancing over, I did a quick recount of my supplies. Of course, I had my refurbished Mauser Karabiner 98K with 50 extra lose rounds of .308. A bit excessive, but I gotta be prepared for anything. The rounds fitted nicely into the pouches on my belt with 10 bullets per pouch. My Model 610 Revolver sat loaded and snug in its custom holster. In the belt pouch next to my holstered revolver, I had a total 4 speed loaders for it, amounting to a total of thirty rounds of 10MM. Lastly, I sheathed the black bladed gladiolus in its red leather scabbard. Deciding that I wasn’t gonna bring the shotgun, I stored it unloaded and safely locked in my dresser. I also made the same decision with the strange snake dagger, as It was seemingly useless in practicality. I swear, when I stare at it, sometimes I think I see the snake’s eyes blink… Or does it wink? Whatever this magic shit is, I’ll figure it out latter, but probably never. Now as for what I was going to wear, I easily came to the conclusion that I would be better off with my armor on. Because why would anyone in their right mind think not? I was going on a seemingly dangerous hunting trip in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. While I don’t know what horrors Titan had planned on killing, I knew Titan was keep the identity of this monster a secret. Hopefully, the surprise reveal is not in the bad kind and nothing too terrifying. Since this is a dry/desert like region, I knew I was likely safe from any cultic cthulhu shit. So that is definitely a plus, but damn, that stuff right there gives me nightmares... Now, as of what to do with the last of my possessions, that being a large magical backpack containing several workshops worth of tools and equipment. Since I still don’t know how any of this magical stuff works, I’ve never been able to feel safe with the bag itself. I mean, all the provoking thoughts of accidentally messing up some magic mcgoffin thing was completely nerve racking! For example, if someone tried to kill me, and they slashed their sword in cutting my magic backpack, what would happen? Would the spell break and the entire condensed weight of an entire hardware store kill me? Or would the shrunken tools compact and form a black hole, ending with me being ripped apart? Weather it was realistic or stupid sounding, in this magical land nothing is off the table just yet. With so many unanswered questions, and just me being wary of the magic bag, I came to the obvious choice. Safety first, and obviously to keep my paranoia at bay, I kept the backpack locked away in a heavy looking chest. Making sure everything on me was secure, I slung my rifle onto my back and opened the door. The door’s hinges groaned a bit as I opened it, reviling the eager titanic griffon. “Ah, good! You are finally ready, come, let’s go get those two idiots.” Raising an eyebrow at his statement, I kept my questions silent as we ventured off outside. “Not bringing the silver weapon? Or your fine packs?” Titan asked, looking me over, as if trying to gauge something about me. Of course he would have noticed! I can’t tell him that I’m afraid of a magical bag. He’ll think I’m more pathetic than I already am. Well... The best lies are always half truth. “Well, see, here's the thing… I need more maneuverability since I am flying a long ways with you Titan. I am still getting... adjusted to this body and need to get better acquainted with flying with these wings. Beside, I don’t need any extra baggage for a hunting trip.” I told, gaining a nod of understatement from him. Please be a success? “I see, I didn’t consider that Chronicle. Let's see where those fools are.” It seems he bought it! Quickly following Titan down to the city market, business looking good as usual. Moving through the crowd, Titan then seemingly spotted two normal looking griffon guards. The only thing differentiating than the rest would be the notable younger age. I guess the Equivalent would be 18 to 20? Well, I’m 22 so I guess I’m not so different. “Serra! Flicker! Come here!” Titan beckoned out, immediately gaining the two attention as they over ready for orders. “Be at ease, go grab your sharpened spears and extra long arrows. We’re hunting pests down to the southwest so meet us at the gate and be quick about it!” The two griffons said no words as they dashed off to what I assumed to be the barracks. Following Titan to the gate, the guards immediately began to open the heavy looking doors. Titan began stretching his large wing of silver and bronze. “Why don’t we just fly over the gate?” I asked, getting a few laughs from the large griffon. “Because of one of the most common laws all around Chronicle. The only reason to fly within the city is under extreme circumstance, like a dragon attack. Otherwise, no flying within city walls unless you want an arrow in your hind.” As Titan finished his answer, two other guards rushed passed us, seemingly chasing after someone. “But why though?” I asked again, not understanding the reason while Titan failed to hold back a groan. “Quite simple. It is about accountability, Chronicle. The law is too keep the city organised and governed. One reason is that everyone pays a tax for city entry. This is a very common law amongst the other city holds, so keep to remembering it. Obviously, my guards couldn’t keep track if everyone was flying about. Now the reason I don’t? Because I intend to keep my word as I don’t break the laws I make.” “Ah, I see.” Now understanding Titan’s answer, we waited for about another minute before the two guards came running back. With them they each had a long sharp spear in hand and a bundles of long arrows on his and her side. “Good, now let's hunt!” Following Titan out the door with the two guards close behind, we took to the skies. “I regret everything!” I cried out, trying to hold steady altitude while the muscles in my wings ache. “Hahaha! You should have stretched!” Titan yelled back, his laughter becoming insultingly rhetorical. The two young guards behind didn’t fare any better as they snickered at my suffering. “Fine! I give up! You ficking win! I’m taking a break. ” Finally admitting defeat, the three quickly followed me, landing gracefully upon the dry dirt. While I flopped into the dirt, sore and tired from two hours of flight. “Hay look on the bright side Chronicle!” I didn’t bother with a response, my pride hurting as much as my wings. “Lord Titan! Look over there, I think we are close to a nest.” Flicker intervened, pointing down to a mound of dirt in the distance. “Hum… You might be onto something Flicker. Come Chronicle, I think our prey is close.” Begrudgingly, I got up and followed behind. “Diamond dog tracks here sir.” Serra quietly stated, seeming to put everyone on edge. Diamond dogs? Where have I heard that term before? Drawing my rifle, I aimed down large foxhole that descended down into the earth. “So were hunting stray dogs?” Looking back at Titan, my question seeming to interrupt his thinking. “No, Chronicle, I planned on something more daring and worthy than a pack of savages.” “Well... Let’s see if these dogs are reasonable.” My statement changed their expressions from ready to terrified. “Hay-ooh! Any reasonable people down there?!” I yelled down into the darkness, only to be immediately grabbed away from the entrance. “Woah there you idiot! What the cluck are you doing?!” Serra yelled, grabbing and shaking me by the collar of my armor “What? I want to see if they can help-” Suddenly, the ground around us grumbled and gave way. Panicked, we stood surrounded by over 20 bipedal hyena like dogs. They are coated in a sickly green fur that is matted with dirt, blood, and each bearing a few scars. Armed with crude weapons fashioned with bits of scrap metal and bone, I knew I had messed up.   “You didn’t tell me that they were part mole!” I exclaimed. Looking back over to Titan, I could see him facepalmed with an audible sigh of disappointment.   “And wha-ta we helpin’ with?” One of the diamond dog said through disjointed yellowed fangs. He was followed by dark chuckles from the rest of the armed pack. Acting quick, I put on a griffon smile and replied. “Well, that’s simple buddy. I was wondering if you could point us to the nearest hunting grounds of… What are we hunting Titan?” I asked, bringing the attention to said griffon. “Waste Worms?” Titan finally answered with uncertainty, eyeing me wearaily. “Waste worms? Gahhh. They better be what I’m thinking they are.” Groaning, I did my best holding in my fears of facing down what I could only picture as gigantic dune worms. With a shake of my head, I looked back at the apparently savage pack of dogs. “Anyways as Titan said, we plan to kill a few of them. Got any suggestions?” The pack seemed to look at each other, as if conflicted with what to do with us. Ha, I guess we could make a break for- “Yer not here tok k-kill us?” Another dog asked, this one shorter and more lean in build. Quickly deciding to play on with the charade, I replied in a reassuring tone. “No, I never intend on bringing you any harm. Honestly I’m only out here because I’m tired of being bored back at Dune City.” My voice somehow calmed the pack down, as if my response definitely answered their conflicting questions. For some reason, in the back of my mind, I could hear some voice saying ‘Speech check successful.’ “If ya speak truth, da must be blessing prayer mum make! Muma dida say wa blue n’ gold thing will save many thing.” While this other dogs words were conjumbled and barely understandable, somehow it reassured and sent the others into wonder. The pack then erupted with excitement, barking in chatter with each other. “Ha, it seems I’m a legend to everyone. Your mother is not the only one to tell me that I’m here to save everyone. Well then, what am I supposed to save you all from?” I questioned, gaining concerned looks from Flicker and Serra while Titan looked astonished. “Worms kill das many time. If ya kill dem big worm, true savior ya!” Another dog yelped out, gaining praising agreement from the others. “Well, where can we find them?” The biggest dog pointing his jagged mace west. I said a quick goodbye and took to the skies with Titan, Flicker, and Serra instantly following with. After making a good distance away from the pack, Serra blurted out her thoughts. “I can’t believe you just peace talked a pack of savage mutts. That’s just not possible-” I ‘accidentally’ interrupted her with a hard slap from my wing. “Well considering that my mere existence here is a complete impossibility to begin with, I say nothing be impossible.” It seems that my cheeky grin is not working out well on beaks. Or did I piss her off? Probably both. “Okay, so here me out. Since I’m obviously from another reality, what force dictates that I have to be bound by this world’s logic? I mean come on! I freaking absorbed a dragon soul like a video game character for pete’s sake.” “Who is this… Pete? And what is-” Another feathery slap to Serra’s face. “It doesn't matter!” I exclaimed proudly, dashing through a small cloud. “Right now, after everything that has happened to me, I feel like god is on my side! Nothing will ruin this adventure!” “Your gonna eat the words, you know that?” Flicker budded in, amusement easily seen on his features. “Ha! I think you are right Chronicle! You truly are destined by the gods to fly wings of change upon this world.” To Serra’s dismay, Titan’s voice only boosted my already high confidence. “I guess I really am a hero…” If image is broken, here is the following *One Minute Thirty Seven Seconds Later* “OH MERCIFUL BLACK JEWISH GOD SAVE ME! OH GOD WHY DO THESE THINGS EVEN EXIST?! OH GOD WHY?!” Screaming like a banshee, I dodge around the titanic broodmother worm, a monster that will go down forever haunting my nightmares. “HAHAHAHA! I told you so! Eating your own damn wo-!” “AH SHUT UP FLICKER!” I screamed, increasing the pace. Looking back behind me, I see that Flicker indeed had the last laugh… As in literally being his last. He was now a shredded smear by the hundred rows of moving chainsaw like teeth. “OH LAWD SAVE ME!!!” Speeding upwards, the gigantic maggot finally reach its limit. The worm’s length finally ending at around six school buses and easily being just as thick. Now reaching its peak, the worm dived back down to the earth, drilling through the dry land like a well oiled machine. “Oh god, oh god! What messed up deity made this thing exist!” I screamed. I then heard Titan calling me. “Good work Chronicle! I managed to hit a few weak points! Now a few more runs like that and then we’ll eventually kill the beast!” Turning around and looking down, I see Titan with Serra hastily loading his quiver with more large arrows. Quickly descending downwards, I was ready to give Titan a piece of my mind. “YOU WHAT! No! I did not sign up for this sh-AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” My rant quickly turned to a terrified screech as the devil worm erupted back for more. “Nonononononono!” While zig-zagging through the air, I made a hard turn to the right, sending the gigantic  monster tumbling, rolling hard into a conveniently placed bolder. Hastily leveling my rifle, I began letting off my five rounds down it’s large gaping maw. As I was reloading, a borderline demonic groan came from monster worm. Now panicking, I began shooting again, emptying the gun. Thanks to my practiced skill, I was quickly reloaded another five rounds and began firing the gun again. After repeating this rapid process one more time, Titan had finally arrived, grabbing my rifle and shaking me back down to my senses. “Chronicle! Stop it and focus on me! The Broodmother worm is dead! Stop deafening us!” As soon as I processed those words, my adrenaline rush immediately died. Nearly fainting from the sudden wave of weakness, my wings finally gave out. Thankfully, I wasn’t to high off of the ground, but hitting said ground still hurt. Vision now fuzzy and blurred, I did nothing but laying there, splayed and heavily breathing my lungs out. Though after what felt like ten minutes, my sight finally cleared and with the sounds of Titan’s voice, my reflexes heightened back up to speed. “Chronicle, are you done with your… Meditating?” “Fu*Cough-cough* you.” Was my only reasonable response. “Lord Titan, I think we have trouble coming from the east!” Serra’s response drew titan away, leaving me to my thoughts again. Oh good, Serra survived this whole ordeal. She’s fun to mess with… Though Flicker is... Dead. Even though he was an ass- Wait… Did she say trouble? What trouble? Finally rising from the ground, I look over to see that I’m surrounded again. This time by three griffons in black bulky armor that were glowing a hue of green. The armored suits reminded me of those old steampunk diving suits. The kind of suits with the those gigantic metal bulb helmets. Beside their head, the rest of the armor consists of a heavy chest plate, spiked gauntlets, and rubber fins that completely covered their wings. In fact, I would think that their suit was sealed air tight. As of their choice of weaponry, each of the three wielded a shortened baseball bat shaped mace that was dotted with spikes. The most unique thing about the mace was the top of the back was hollowed out to fit a softball sized transparent gem that hummed a sickly glowing green. Holding said crystal in place were two welded bands that were dotted with spiked studs. Overall, I would guesstimate that these guys were an edgy underwater dubstep band. Maybe a subgenre of techno, or something alike that. “You think this is the one Xengen? If not, I might kill someone.” One of the griffons said, their voice dubbed over with a distorting echo of static. Oh boy, they are now definitely edgy. “I’m positive. His magicka levels are far beyond normal, even for a that of a Pureblood. The power he holds is off the charts. He has to be the one.” Xengen told the other two, pointing at me what I assumed was a magical scanner doohickey thing. Either I hit my head too hard, or somehow these guys sound a lot like the imperials officers from Star Wars. “Understood sir, what about the two inferiors with the savages?” The third one asked, leveling his mace for use, now charging up brighter. “We keep to and uphold our orders. Kill them all, leave no witnesses.” Instantly realizing their dark intent, I quickly drew my handgun and fired. In quick succession, I fired three shot on one of them. Two shots to the chest seemed did little, but the third shot pierced the glass visor and made brain paste. Now the other two shaken off their surprise, they pounced at me. I let off another two round onto the guy on my right with both shots luckily hit his unarmored shoulder. With the high caliber of the full cast 10MM Auto Round, I wasn’t surprised to see the two rounds tearing his arm off from his body. The injured griffon fell to his side, clutching the arm that was now only holding together by torn cloth and strains of flesh. Before I could fire off the sixth round, I was finally tackled down by the third who was desperately trying to pry the gun from my grip. In the struggle for control, I accidentally fired my last bullet. Lucky, the 10MM round went through the griffon’s left wrist, blowing a large nasty hole. Now no longer on top of me, he rolled onto the ground clutching his mangled wrist while joining the painful screaming with his armored brother. With great speed, I rolled away and quickly got back onto my feet. Hastily, I ejected the six spent cases and quickly shoved a Speed loader in. With a flick of my hand, the revolver was armed and ready for use. Looking down at the the two, I knew that they were not going anywhere. Taking a quick look of my surroundings, I instantly noticing Titan dueling with another one of these dark clad griffons. Aiming down the dull iron sights of my Revolver, I took a breath, pulled, and fired, landing a would be satisfying headshot. Sadly, the round didn’t penetrate but instead heavily dented the metal and sent the griffon reeling around and falling onto his back. Damn, that guy must have a huge headache. Though Titan did not hesitate with his attacks and continued to relentlessly hack down on the enemy. Making great work with the butcher’s blade, Titan hacked into the the griffon’s neck till the armored head came off. “That’s… A bit brutal, don’t ya think?” My words were seemingly lost on Titan as he whipped the blood from his heavy blade. “How are you holding up Chronicle? Not injured I hope.” Titan asked, not even bother with looking at me, as his attention was drawn to tending Serra. She was laying on her side holding her chest while groaning in pain. “Ah well, bit ruffled up, but nothing serious. How is Serra?” I answered, walking up to see her pained expression. She answered before titan could. “Gaah! My clucking ribs!” Trying on turn on her right side, she was met with pain. “She took a hard hit from that cursed mace. God damn Enclave enchantments...” Titan commented, looking her over while padding and checking her chest and armor. “Be praising thankfulness to the gods Serra, your mail held up from taking any punctures wounds, so you’ll likely live.” Titans words didn’t seem to assure Serra as she continued to groan through clenched beak. Looking away, I see that the green dogs have finally arrived. “Blue birdy killa big worm! Blue birdy killa dem dark ones! Blue birdy save da pack! Blue birdy is da savior!” The dogs began to crowd me, cheering many crudely worded praises. But hey, I’m not stopping them from worshiping me. I’m totally good with holding such titles. Everything was good now... Except when I turned back to glance on the three shot up Enclave soldiers, I only found two dead bodies. “Shitbuckets...” Apparently, the third one without a left hand got away. But how? He can’t fly with rubber gloved wings? Unless magic, but I don’t see how that’ll work… Besides, how did he just disappeared like that? I don’t see him anywhere! Better yet, how did the those guys appear after killing the sand worm? Wouldn’t have we seen them in the distance? “Something the matter Chronicle? Oh, I see you have had your share of killing then?” Titan asked, seeing my concerned expression. “Yeah, I shot three guys here, but there are only two dead bodies. With the third one, I shot off his left hand, and I thought that I had subdued him. Guess I was wrong, as he somehow disappeared into the wind.” “Huh. Quite the predicament there Chronicle. But still, killing two Enclave Ravens is quite the accomplishment for anyone. Especially when they were the ones who had the upper wing!” Titan praised. I couldn’t tell is he was either trying to cheer me up, or butter me up like a turkey... I might not want to use that wording ever with griffons being part bird and all. “Well, even if they were best master swordsman's in the world, they can’t dodge bullets. That is what levels the playing field between us.” “Nonsense, I would praise any who could defeat such a skilled enemy. If I have to honest, I was having trouble holding my own. If I had know I was going to duel Enclave Assassin's, I would have brought a proper blade!” Titan laughed, through failing to get a smile outta me. “They weren't assassin's Titan, they were here searching the wasteland for me. Apparently, I’m not just any local prophecy, as now the Enclave is wanting a part of me as well. Why am I so important?” I finished off with the nagging question, though not directly at Titan, but rather to this blasted world. “Well… How could you not be? I see a destiny in you that needs to be fulfilled, one by the gods no less. Since making your claim into this world I’ve witness you do amazing things. You can bring out hope to the hopeless, peace to the restless, and have become victor in the face of deadly foes. And the actions you’ve done here today show who you really are. When first meeting these diamond dogs who fight just to survive, you show kindness in where little is ever given. You smite down their danger, their dragon, and bring safety to their pack. You are a hero, and that’s what matters.” Titan preached, driving his point with gestures to the dog and back at me. “Yeah, I do see your point. I guess I have been saving people since I got here. But then... Why would the Enclave be searching for me? I haven’t done that much for the three days I’ve been here, well besides slaying a dragon. So how do I have an entire evil organization after my blue feathered ass?” “I don’t have any grounded knowledge to answer that. Did they say anything to you?” “Yeah, they did actually. Though indirectly. They said I was just ‘the one’. Of what? I don’t know… They also said something about how I have a abundance of- What was it? Oh yeah, ‘Magicka’ as they called it.” “Really? Well, did they say how much?” Titan asked, now deeply intrigued. “The Soldiers didn’t say any numbers. Just that my power was beyond normal and off the charts.” “Hum. Makes sense that you would be seen as an anomaly to the Enclave. My guess is, after absorbing all of that magic-soul whatever from the dragon, I would say that you have been radiating a presence of power. Ever since I’ve met you Chronicle, you have been just a glowing figure of power. Weather it is because of the dragon or divine origins, I think is still up to debate.” “I’m actually glowing? Well, good to know why everyone thinks I’m the new messiah.” I joked, but Titan didn’t seem to see it as such. Looking around, we realised that the dogs had left with Serra. “Well, let's see where they're taking Serra off to.” Nodding in agreement, we took off and followed back to the pack’s den, only left with guessing on what they had planned. Well, we finally figured out what the diamond dogs were doing with Serra. They planned to take her down into the descending burrows that lead into their den. What they were going to do after that? Apparently the green hyenas have a magic wielding leader known as Big Mamba. She is probably a Shamen, or possibly something in similar like, though Titan seemed very hesitant about entering. But we unspokenly agreed that we weren't going leave her behind. Eventually, I reluctantly made the first move, descended down into the cramped tunnels, traveling through a great deal of dirt until we reached one of the reasonably larger chambers. Now that I could raise my neck, I see their leader, who was more animal like than in bipedal stature. She was indeed a big mama, as she took up a tenth of the space in the room. She wore tribalistic jewelry of many kinds; necklaces hanging carved ordinented bones. A few dozen bracelets embedded with a small gems, teeth, or bits of metallic ores. She also adorned a tight wrapping dress of sewn rags that covered mummified parts of her body. Lastly was strapped tight leather collar around her neck,held together with shreds of woven string. The thin black rope was a knotted mess, molding and holding an old port wine bottle. The contents within the thick glass glowed a familiar sickly green, being the only source of enlightenment within the room. Currently, Big Mamba was tending to Serra’s wounds by enacting some sort of voodoo ritual. I would think she was just a crazy dog lady if it weren't for the fact that magic was a legit thing here. And by the looks of it, the seemingly abstract chanting is working. I stand there, amazed as I witness the burning incenses mending her bruises and scratches. I was left to guess that her internal wounds healed as she breathed in the smoke, ensuring her good health when she relaxed into peaceful slumber. “Damn… Where can I get a joint like that?” My comment only got myself smacked upside the head with a frown in disappointment. “Ahh, Yeeheehehe. The foreigner of worlds, he comes before us.” Big Mamba laughed, moving her gowing bottle which illuminates more of her zombified form. I feel a great unease from her presence, as if I was in the room with a phantom. “Heehehe-yee! Oh so bright, how holy a dead god’s chosen light is just driven with divinity. Yet with all her blessings, the chosen traveler is left… Purposeless, are you? Oh, not knowing perhaps? Heheehe. No, rather be not deciding then? What a pity, wandering soughtless into my den of wishes…HAHA-hack!” Her laughter was cut short with sickening coughs of blackened lungs and decayed heart. “Enough with the foretelling, Witch. What do you want?” Titan demanded, Mamba’s voice now gone from crazy lady to groans of dark intent. Upon her faded whiten eyes was a wretched gaze of hate. “Haha-hackgaah! Oh it is you, the trusted dealer, a noble of treachery-BAGH! How fitting we of the same kind should meet.” She emphasised her disgust with hack and spit of black liquid. “We are nothing alike dark caster. You know very well that it was your kind who brought chaos upon themselves. And I had no alience nor any deals with the your kind or the Pride. Now release Serra, and we shall depart from your wretched dwelling.” Titan stood strong, staring down the zombie hyena without any trace fear. “Well, for healing your pretty Serra, I-” “We made no deal, nor did we ever agree upon you healing her. Your dogs took her without our say and you healed her all on your own initiative. I owe you no deal, nor have any of us have done anything to compensate for such. Your trickery and forked tongue lies will not deceive us.” Titan spoke as of he was a lawyer, negotiating like a politician with the undead mother. I guess he really is a good deal maker if he can stare down this undead creepfest abomination. While on the other hand, Big Mamba sat there with her jaw clenched tight, seething in rage. “Fine! Begone with you lot! Out of my den before I gouge your pretty eyes out!” Heeding her warning, I lead the way back up with Titan dragging Serra in tow. Once we reached the top, I quickly began shaking, combing the dirt out my fur and preening the grime from my feathers. As I cleaned myself, my panicked thoughts made themselves apparently loud and clear. “Who and what the hell was that thing?” “That was a Undead, Chronicle. And you should be very weary of them, for they are ones who damned their body and soul to dark, corrupting black magics. Watch carefully and don’t fall for their words, for their tongues are forked with lies.” “Yeah, I got that part down already.” I mumbled, finally taking a look over to Titan to see that he was following similar pattern of cleaning himself. “You try to wake her up… I’m… I’m gonna go find those Enclave bodies.” Before Titan could object, I took to the sky and headed back down west. “What the ficken is wrong with me!” I yelled out, frantic frustration and pent up panic finally releasing. Today has not been my day. My body has been pushed nealy to its limits, and my mind was suffice to say, not well. I’ve nearly been eaten by a gigantic Sandworm. Flicker is dead because of said worm and yet I have not even given any thought for his loss. Like, what the hell is wrong with me? Taking a dip in altitude, I slowly descended down to the ground, landing by the now rotting corpses of the enclave. I sat there, staring at the dried blood, the still bodies, and the dismembered hand. “What is wrong with me?” I mumbled, replaying the bloody events over and over in my head. I could still smell the gunpowder, feel the past adrenaline pumping, and the recoiling guns in my black taloned hands. “I just, I had to stop them. They were going to-” I stopped arguing midway, realizing I’m sounding like a madman. “Man, I am losing it.” Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths, calming my temper and clearing my mind. “No, I’m not in the wrong. It’s kill or be killed.” I breathed out. “I am a good person, I am justified.” I breath in. “I am a hero.” I breathed out. I don’t know why, but I smiled at that. As if I told a silly joke, unbelievable to such a funny concept. My smile dropped as I opened my eyes upon the reality that I still had stained blood on my hands. “A bloody hero, that is.” Getting back on all fours, I made made way over to one of the headshot corpses. I noticed that the strange mace was still firmly hand tight in his grip, glowing with the strange, assumingly dark power. Talking a closer look, hesitantly I pried the dead talons of it grip, as if expecting the dead griffon was going to take it back. After calming down my petty fears, I began taking great interest of faintly glow the weapon had. The gem itself was just magical to say the least The way this crystal like gem held the magic in, yet let the energy flow freely like the wind. In my eyes it was a beauty of this wasted world of fantasy. “But it will be the best I can be.” Taking off the black belt harness from the corpse, I equipped it over my armor smoothly. Now having a place to hold the mace, I clipped a ring on the weapon’s hilt secured to my side. Frowning, I take off flying with memories of today’s bloodshed, thoughts of today's loss, and wonderings of what is next. > Chapter 6: Message of the Mage > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Oh boy, what a day this is turning out to be~” I sung out to myself, dry sarcasm permeating the room. Rolling over in my bed, I stretched my limbs, fine grain talons and nubby toes grasping at the air. Today is another bright bustling day, and here I am, lazing around like a fat content cat in bed.   After the shit Titan pulled yesterday? I’m gonna do as I damn please. That train wreck of a hunting trip nearly got me killed and has been the bane of my brain. Still, pondering on such matters all day will lead to no success. So maybe I’m lazing around because I’m too afraid to face the world? No, more likely that I’m afraid to keep up the act of being the wasteland’s messiah. Yeah, that sounds a lot more like me. It also didn’t help that Titan’s public prasing seemed to bring no end to the fame, as if I didn’t have enough of it. I don't mind being thanked and praised for my actions, in fact I quite enjoy relishing in my earned worth. Yet lately the rumors have been absolutely absurd. Now based on what a maid has told me, my killing has risen to me offing a dozen highly trained Enclave Assassins single handedly. Not even counting my dragon slaying, the griffons are beyond cheerful as talks of hope, salvation, and times of great change are upon us! And here I am, afraid like a child needing to give a pubic presentation… Now that I think about it, that is pretty much my situation. Turning gaze away from my bed, I looked over the mannequin that adorned my special armor. For honesty’s sake, I had to admired the fine intergate craftsmanship of the metal and cloth. The interrogate carvings in the plate and the quilted diamond layers of fabric gave off a legendary vibe. I’m not sure if the armor is enchanted but when I came back the city, the citizens seemed entranced by it. Now in my opinion, the armor set wasn’t what I would call total warrior badassery, it was still a gift from god, or whatever kicked my ass into this world. Speaking of gifts, earlier I managed to overcome my fear of the magic bag of impossibility. What it held still made it quite peculiar. I mean, who's idea was it to shove nearly every type of building and crafting tools into a magic bag? So many tools in fact that could honestly supply an entire factory! I was pulling things from forging tongs to a working blow torch; nearly set the window drapes on fire with that thing too! But what proved that I had a portable factory was when I somehow expanded the zipper to dragged out a large hydraulic press. Yes, hundreds of pounds of modern machinery falling out of a magic messenger bag. Oh boy, that definitely left marks of the floor. Thankfully, I managed to find a panel full of switches under the big fabric flap. And thankfully there was a [-Setup All-]/[-Off-]/[-Return All-] switch that did just that. Well, I only switched it to [-Return all-] and just like magic, the tools and machinery turned to dust. Made a little sand storm in my room before all of it flowed back into the bag. So I have a factory in a magic bag with a self cleanup switch, pretty cool in my book. But you want to know what’s not cool god? It is that the entire toolbox given to me is totally pointless. For one, I didn’t even know how to use most of the tools and I don’t know what to even build with them. I mean what could I even build? Fortification? Yes that is useful, but unneeded. Indoor plumbing? That right there is an absolute must, yet I don’t know where to begin. Homes for the homeless? Actually, I that one is not so bad… Yet I feel that is not what this gift is meant for. “More answerless questions.” I groaned out. Hearing the clicking of a doorknob and squeaking of hinges, I tuned my attention to the intruder. “I see that it is you. Rose was it?” It took her a moment respond, for her features were redden and posture nervous.   “Yes! That is my name. Ummm…” She squealed, obviously embarrassed. Great, now I got a young maid with the classic school girl crush for me. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was like a several years younger then me, I’d feel the same way. Yet I not sure what age makes you an adult in griffon years. “Well, what are you here for? Titan calling for me again?” She shook her head. “No, a courier from the Skywalkers brings a scroll for you Chronicle.” Intrigued, I rolled off the bed and approached her. “Well, let’s see it.” “I’m sorry I don’t have it, the messenger wants to give it to you in person.” She rushfully said. Defusing her nervousness, I patted her feathered head. “Don’t worry, it is okay. So where is this messenger?” “Ohhhh. I can go get her for you.” “No need. I need to stretch my legs and get out of this room today anyways. So lead the way.” Going down the hallways and past the stairways and into throne/dining room, I was greeted with the sight of a cyan green griffon cloaked in tattered brown fabric. She had a look of determination in her eye, which was obvious with her stance trying to keep eye level with me. “So your the messenger from the Skywalkers? Come, let's talk over at the tables.” She quietly followed back the dining room. Taking out seats opposite of each other, we both silently observed the other, trying to see who would make the first move. “You are the one who claims being the bringer of legends?” “If this is about me being the Chronicle, know that I never tried to claim the title in the first place.” She seemed unfazed by my honesty, still staring into my eyes. “Yet here you are, living like a noble with the townsfolk praising your heroic deeds.” “Well, I’m not one to turn down grateful hospitality after fighting a large fire breathing dragon. Also some of them tend to exaggerate the truth.” “I see. Well many claim to have witnessed you absorbing the dragon's body and soul, that is quite the feat.” “Yeah… Can I see the message you have for me?” Looking me dead in the eyes again before reaching for a a pair of… Sunglasses? Donning the large black shades, she continued to stare at me. “Please tell me that you not gonna-” With a sudden light flash from her shades, I yelped and jumped from my seat, hanging dearly onto the gigantic crystal chandelier. Once I realised that my memories were not erased, I winced at the sight of the courier. The light had indeed originated from the glasses as they were completely broken. Lenses cracked into spiderwebs and her face blackened and feathers charred from the blast. Currently, she was clutching her feathery face and groaning like a very angry cat. “RAAAAH! Tartarus that hurt! Damn you Lexus!” Groaning with her eyes shut tight, she quickly yeeted those shades into the wall, shattering into pieces. “Well, that was unexpected.” With my grip slipping, I dropped to the floor and (unsurprisingly) instinctively nailed the landing. Man, I truly am part cat. “Are you okay my Chronicle?” Turning head, I see Rose coming to my rescue by padding and dusting off nonexistent shards. Man she is trying so hard to become a Waifu, which by the way I am not okay with. “Hay hay I’m fine, I think. Thankfully, her attempt of going men in black on me backfired.” The young griffon stared up at me confused like usual. “Men in black?” “Nevermind.” Turning my attention back at the messenger, she was staring to me with the most completely pisseed off look I’ve seen so far. Though thankfully, that wrath was not meant fully for me. “Jack Cobalt.” After a few tense moments, instead of pulling out a neuralizer, she pulled out a… Soda can? “What is that for?” Her groaning continued as she unscrewed the lid, revealing a rolled up scroll inside. “Oh.” Unraveling the parchment, it revealed a bunch of strange and unknown blackletter characters. Before I could complain, the words began to change and rearrange into resembling of gothic german text before finally settling for english. “You know translation spells?” “What?” Turning my baffled gaze from the parchment, I quickly shivered my head from the strange sensation. “What you just did, with your eyes glowing gold, that was a Translation spell.” “Oh, I guess I did. I thought spells would abe a lot more complicated.” “What are you saying? Those spells are very complicated!” Ignoring her ranting, I finally set sights on reading the letter. Greetings mighty dragon slayer! Since you are reading this letter, that means you are truly the anomaly of the century! Since you are probably wondering, I am a mage of the magic arts and scholar of written times past in service for the three great families of Skywalker Castle. Weather you have realised this or not, you are a griffon of great interest to many of the various factions in this blasted wasteland. Unfortunately most of them being undesirables as they would use you for their own gain, but I urgently require your assistance to unlock something magnificent! I have a relic from the ages of harmony can may only be unlocked by someone like you. I promise great rewards in goods, gold, or any to your desires if you so chose to help me unlock the secrets of the magical artifact. You can also become a great and powerful figurehead here at the castle if you so chose. A griffon such as yourself fulfilling the role of a legend, you will have undoubted sway in all of the five great castles. With my help and way of word, it will all be officially assured. Sincerely, Merlin Pendragon “Are you even listening to me?” Flipping the paper back down onto the table, I see that she is still frustrated with her feathers jittering out. She also has a notable scorched rings around her eyes, kinda makes her look permanently surprised. “So I’ve been given a quest to solve a magic mcgoffin? Huh, at least that gives me something to do… Tell me, what is this artifact exactly? It better not unlock some eldritch horror.” “Wha-… I honestly don’t know much- Why are you asking me?” Okay, playing tough to get eh? “Surely you know at least something since they entrusted you with delivering this message. Do you even know what it looks like?” Come on, take the bait. “Well, I did get a glance at it once…” Success! “It’s like a multilayer sphere made of glass I think? Nothing seems to even scratch it, but it glows anytime magic is being used around it.” Interesting... “So it’s a classic crystal ball… Probably for seeing into the future is my guess.” “Seeing into the future?” Rose questioned in, tilting her head and looking confused as ever. “More likely predicting future events, like will Lord Titan still be alive in say 5 years? No, bad example… Now that I think about it, the crystal ball is probably not that. Maybe it could be for contacting the dead? Not sure what kind of rules apply with that kind of power… Anyway, do you know why do they need me for this exactly?” “I would guess they require someone with even greater magic potential, which you definitely have.” The courier answered grumpily. “Yeah, was that related with those glasses exploding?” “Bunch of old world junk, got plucking overloaded just by looking at you.” “Ha, eating a dragon’s soul will do that apparently.” Before she could even question my words, I stretched my arms and let out a yawn. “I’m gonna go find Titan, he’ll probably want to know where I’ll be going off too.” Snatching the letter, I strolled down to the door. Right as I was about to open the doors, the old wood sprung open smacking me in the face and off my pawed feet. “You can still go and do business in my city, but my word is final. And for the last time, the dragon materials are currently not for sale.” Looking up I see Titan himself making way and sitting down on this bed throne. Two other griffons followed in with him, one male and one female. Both were a mix of a yellowish red feathered pureblood? Or rather a mix between a being one as they had more and plain brown black fur. Between the two they only differed with their red colored highlights and wore unique leather biker jackets. Across their back ‘Red Buzzer’ was stitched in. “Bring us the group that killed it, and they’ll take our offer.” The buffer one boasted. “Then the griffon you want is right behind you.” Both turning head, I wave my taloned hand in greeting. “This noble solely killed a dragon? Your not jesting with us again are you Lord Titan?” The doubtful female questioned, not that I blame her. “Not this time. For he is the Chronicle of legends long foretold in the days of before and after the war.” The two seemed doubtful, both resembling a equal look of disdain as if they were in sync. “Well, I guess the local rumors are for once true. I believe introduction are in order. I am Jeta Westwing, head daughter of the Red Buzzers. And this is my twin brother, Meta Westwing; headmaster of our infamous forges. You’ve probably heard of our clan have you?” Oh shit these two seem both bostful and serious. And that attitude of hers is ticking me off. Never liked girls with that superior 'I am more popular and better than you' attitude. “No I haven’t as I’m relatively new to this world, but if you say your famous, so be it. I’m Jack Cobalt, an average gun loving guy and fellow Jäger. Unlike you two, I’m not in life for solely fame and fortune.” I seemed to hit a nerve with the Jeta, because she giving me the look. Turning her head, she asks Titan. “Is he always this grumpy?” Titan shrugged. “Sorry, if I’m coming off as ‘grumpy’, I just got the door smacked into my face.” Meta now steps in ahead, clasping his hands. “Alright, let’s start over and get down to business. First off, I want those scales and dragon hide you got here, and I will pay in Bits or equal worth in trade to acquire them. Secondly, I want to know how you alone supposedly killed a gigantic fire breathing dragon.” “First off, I didn’t truly fight it alone. I recall that I did most of the damage and delt the killing blows, but many others burned in defending this city. Now as how I killed it? I leveled the playing field with the mighty weapons known as guns. Several shells in its hide and mouth to cause disoranting pain, and once distracted by the guards, a single shot from my rifle into the dragon’s eye effectively killed the brain. ” “I’ve never heard of these weapons before, how do they work exactly?” Before I could answer Meta, Titan intervened. “They are weapons from another world, and are unlike anything ever forged before. The resources to produce them would be a high cost yet without the knowledge of making them, such endeavors are impossible for now. For now we will be keeping the dragon’s remains for our use in defending and maintaining order in this city. If you don't have any other order of business, I ask that you take your leave.” Meta snarled. “Alright then, keep your secrets. Come Meta, we have to go.” Huffing, Jeta leads the way out with Meta following close behind. Before closing the door, Meta turns and gives me a cold yet somewhat pleading look. “Better live up to your name Pureblood.” Closing the large door, the two went off, presumingly out of the city. “Are they important enough to worry about?” I question, turning back to see Titan grabbing a sack of nuts. (Not that kind you fool!) “Hardly, raise the prices for their blades probably, but those two are as you said, seekers of fortune.” “Anyways I just got an invitation to Skywalker Castle. From some magic dude unironically named Merlin...” Titan raised his brow with his left hand jesting as if asking a question to still angry griffon. The only problem was that the only thing audible was the crunching and cracking of nuts. “Oh, she is the one who brought the letter scroll in a soda can thing.” Gulping down the food, Titan gazed over the face burned griffon. “I see, but please do tell what happened to her face? You didn’t go and harm the messenger now did you?” “I'm serious man, she tired to go men in black on me and thankfully failed to wipe my memories.” Titan slowly blinked once, then twice before sighing. “Can you please tell me what actually happened miss?” “I had used a set of enchanted glasses to help me evaluate the magic level of this Griffon. They overloaded from the sheer amount of magic he has and burned my face. Now I see why you took to calling him Chronicle, Lord Titan.” “Wait, I think I just realized something. Since I have all of this magic in me, does this mean I can actually use said magic?” “Well, it would be very strange if you couldn’t use it. So you are very likely-” “HowdoIdomagic!?” “Umm, what? AH!” Quickly grabbing her, Jack began shaking the poor griffon. “HOWDOIDOMAGIC!?” “Jack, please calm down.” Titan asked casually eating more nuts while unenthusiastically observing the scene. “I NEED TO KNOW! I WANNA FLY!” “You have wings you damn fool! STOP SHAKING ME!” “I WANT TO CAST FIREBALLS! I WANNA LEVITATE SHIT! OHMERGOD I CAN DO ANYTHING! I COULD- No wait, that is kinda lame-” “You said earlier that *NOM-NOM* “some magic dude” was inviting you to Skywalker Castle? Maybe he could *Gulp* teach you how to grasp your powers.” Titan nearly snickered at the wide eyed reaction from the jay blue griffon. Now the messenger on the other hand look relieved, now longer being shaken like a maraca. “I’ll see to setting you up with one of the traveling caravans too. Then you can head out within the safety of numbers and hopefully won’t run into trouble down the road. Rose, go to the storage house and get Jack setup with a week’s worth of rations. Now before you get your things packed Chronicle, could I read the message?” Handing over the scroll, Titan carefully read over the Letter, raising his brow as he neared the end. “This seems quite promising for setting you on the path Chronicle. I believe you can trust Merlin Pendragon to keep his promise, but make sure to keep your knowledge to yourself. Especially about the capabilities of your weapons as many will easily fall to greed for such power.” Before I could give my understandings, he continued. “And don’t go opening up about not originally being a griffon, many will think you crazy and get you into a load of trouble. I know you can be an adult and not go blindly trusting shady folk, yet be extremely careful. Beyond the walls of cities are lawless, where very few are bound to decent morales. Yet always remember that killing might be unrestricted, but vengeance always follows.” “I understand.” “Good, now go don your arms and armor, I’ll see to getting you set up.” Smiling, I gave my thanks and left to my room. Hopefully the trip won't be too long. Wait... Did he say a week’s worth of rations!?