This is the story of a ragtag group of individuals as they face trials and hardship, friendship and loss. Where their roads will take them, nobody knows. But one thing's certain... They'll be together 'till the end.
This is the story of a ragtag group of individuals as they face trials and hardship, friendship and loss. Where their roads will take them, nobody knows.
But one thing's certain...
They'll be together until the end. --------------
So, this is my first story here on Fimfic, so as always, constructive criticism is a good thing. I really need to know if I'm fleshing out my characters to you guys' liking. Also, There will be swearing. You have been warned.
P.S. On a side note, I'm looking for OC's to make appearances in this fic as main, side and cameo roles. so send 'em through via PM and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. No overpowered or alicorn OCs though, please. Also, not all of the OCs need to be male, a few female OCs would be appreciated too
P.P.S. Thanks to ~ForestOfWarriors (Luna) for the cover art. She did an awesome job
Rain, lightning and thunder shook the building as ponies and gryphons dressed in black trundled inside. Their hooves and claws clopped lightly on the wooden floorboards, breaking the silence of the room. Everyone knew that this event was not to be pleasant, but the sombre mood of the home made everyone uneasy. The tension was raised tenfold as more and more ponies and a few more gryphons, threaded through the door and took their seats on the chairs scattered around the room. Seated at the front, was a foal. All alone. In tears. This was to be his 10th birthday, a joyous occasion by any standard. However, today was not to be a happy day...
----
Quickdraw snapped awake, gasping for breath. Sweat clung to his body, sticking his fur and mane to his skin. Feeling constricted, the grey unicorn stallion threw off his sheets and staggered over to the hotel room's bathroom, where he splashed his face with water. He mumbled something akin to a curse upon his brain for the nightmares.
Why always the same dream? I thought I got over that years ago... Quickdraw let out a sigh into the mirror. Evidently not...
"Oh well, I suppose I should check the time and head down to breakfast," he stated aloud, breaking the unpleasant train of thought. While only mildly coherent, he quickly checked the clock on the wall which stated that the time was 4:30am, and that he should still be asleep by normal pony standards. He donned his gear: a dark grey vest with every inch of space covered in bulging pockets, and two golden rings, which he slid onto his hind legs. A permanent reminder of a great loss.
Quickdraw stumbled out of his room in a drunken-like stupor, induced by exhaustion and bad memories. He reached the stairs, where his face quickly became best friends with the cold hardwood floors of the hotel's ground floor, much to the surprise of the overnight clerk. Quickdraw quietly apologised to the clerk once he had his bearings and informed him that he would be out practicing until 7.
As the grey stallion reached the edge of town after an hour's walk, he spied a fence with bottles, lined carefully on its wooden top, as well as on the lower rung. The stallion immediately decided that this was either an elaborate trap, designed specifically for him, or just sheer luck. Either way, those bottles were history. Quickdraw fired up his horn, opening a pocket on his vest and pulled out a few metal pellets. With a flick of his magic, he sent the pellets screaming at the bottles, fast enough to break the sound barrier, causing a loud crack to sound in the air. As more of the bottles were smashed into oblivion, Quickdraw became aware of a high pitched whining sound coming from the bushes to his left. So, as any normal pony would, he went to investigate. The sound, he found, was coming from a cat, with a coat of dark brown fur, a ruby red eye (the other was covered by what appeared to be a fringe) and a scarf with bells on the ends, as well as in the center, wrapped around its neck. What was more curious to Quickdraw, however, was the three crosses on its front legs, which appeared to be sewn on in thick, white cord.
The cat looked at him...
He looked at the cat...
Suddenly, as if the universe decided to mess with the stallion's head, the cat spoke...
The cat. SPOKE!
It was at that point that a shrill scream could be heard through the town.
--Meanwhile, back at the hotel--
The sounds of the battlefield reached the young gryphon's ears. The cries of the wounded, the tears shed over lost loved ones, the screams of agony as steel sliced into flesh. But Whirlwind Storm was not deterred. He was a captain of the weather artillery division after all, and the gryphons of his squad looked up to him for guidance and direction in the harsh times that were to be had. This battle had raged on for nearly a month, and all were tired. Whirlwind (or Whirl, as his unit called him) sliced through another of his foes with his blade, the blood glistening in the sunlight. A sudden cry for help saw the gryphon flying into an enemy group to save the youngest of his squad, only to watch helplessly as the lion/bird hybrid was sliced open by the spear of the enemy soldier.
----
Storm mumbled in his sleep and turned over in his cloud bed - only to be dropped 5 feet to the floor, as he had unknowingly rolled right off the side of the cloud. With a resounding crash, the gryphon woke, sputtering curses that would have made a sailor proud. He picked himself up, smoothing down any feathers which remained out of place from his slumber and subsequent rude awakening. Taking a quick glance at the clock with his one good eye, he saw that the time was 6am. With this knowledge, he decided that now was as good a time as any to head to the creek and fish up some breakfast before the townsfolk awoke. He quickly put on his equipment: a leather strap holding a broadsword to his side, chain-mail - the front of which was covered in red dragonscale, a symbol of his strength and rank in the gryphon army - a fishing pole, and a black, dragonscale eyepatch for his missing eye.
He sauntered out of his room and downstairs into the lobby, where he noticed a small, yet noticeable pony-face shaped dent in the floor. Ouch. That must have - Wait... Is that Quickdraw's face? The enormous gryphon promptly burst out laughing, falling on the floor (causing another dent, this one gryphon shaped), in a bout of laughter. The Clerk pony gave the gryphon an annoyed look, but couldn't help but giggle softly at the sight of a 475 pound gryphon, heavily armed and armoured, rolling on the floor in fits of laughter. After catching his breath, Storm rose, staggering slightly, apologised to the clerk and asked, "Say, did a grey stallion pass throu... er, fall down the stairs here?" "He most certainly did sir. If you're wondering where he went, he mentioned something about practice until approximately seven if my memory serves me correctly," answered the clerk. "Excellent. Well, I'm off too then, I'll also be back around that time. Oh, and if you see another... oddity... wandering around the halls, probably around room five, tell her that her buddies have gone off to do their own things and not to worry, thanks." "Of course sir. Enjoy whatever activities you have planned until you return." "Thank you. Try not to let my friend cause too much trouble. I'm off." And with those parting words, the gryphon waltzed out the door and took to the skies.
Shortly after leaving the hotel, the gryphon heard a high-pitched, oddly girly scream, and dove towards the sound with frightening speed. What he found when he reached his destination, however, was not what he expected at all. As he landed, a cloud of dust kicking up, he spotted his grey companion screaming into a bush on the side of the road, and a heap of smashed glass on the other side. He snuck up behind the stallion (still screaming loudly) and tapped him lightly on the shoulder, only to be thrown back a few metres by a magical slam. "QUICKDRAW, QUIT FUCKING SCREAMING! IT'S ME, WHIRL!" the gryphon screeched with volume which would make Luna proud. This seemed to do the trick, as the stallion stopped screaming, to stare dumbly at his companion, with fear in his eyes. Still obviously shocked by the strange turn of events, the stallion managed to stutter out some barely audible words along the lines of, "B-b-b-but there's a cat in the bush here... And it sp-sp-spoke!" "What..." "The cat, it spoke..." "Steele... That's impossible... cats don't speak." "Take a look for yourself!" "Fine, get out of the way." The Whirl quietly strode up to the bush and peered into its depths, surprised to see the cat which caused Quickdraw such fright. Once again, the cat spoke while rubbing its ears with its paws. "What the hell is wrong with that pony? Does he WANT me to go deaf?"
The two present looked at each other slowly. And screamed.
--Once again, back at the hotel-- The dreams of this oddity, this insult to nature's laws, were quite different to those of her companions. Instead of war or loss, she dreamed of chaos... and balloons... so many balloons. "One balloon, Two balloon, Red balloon, Blue balloon!" She giggled as she swam through what was practically a sea of balloons, diving deep into their depths only to find a table, covered in delectable sweets at the bottom. She briefly wondered how none of the balloons were popping on her claws, but dismissed the thought as she dove into a cake twice her size. The cake splattered the surrounding balloons, spraying them with the chocolate-y goodness of the cake. She began stuffing her face with the delectable substance. Out of the corner of her draconic eye, she spotted what appeared to be chocolate chip cookies. She squealed with delight and threw herself with reckless abandon towards the platter laden with the treats. She grabbed a handful and crammed them into her mouth. Immediately, she spat the cookies out, scraping her tongue with her paw. "RAISINS? WHY ARE THEY ALWAYS RAISINS?" ----
Dizzy woke with a scream, the taste of the ethereal raisins lingering on her tongue. Finishing her screaming contest with the air, she threw the sheets off her tall, slender body, she jumped out of the bed with a light clack of her feet (well, what she called her feet anyway) and wandered over to the bathroom to bathe.
After cleaning up, the young (she liked to think so anyway) girl yawned loudly, cracking her bones as she stretched, then decided to try out a new trick she'd been working on. She closed her eyes and imagined her travel companions, Quickdraw Steele and Whirlwind Storm, along with a nice little surprise for them.
----
Just as Quickdraw and Storm finished screaming and the cat in the bushes stopped hearing nothing but loud ringing, a large bright light appeared in the air above the males... And cat. The light was followed by a large downpour of confetti from a large pink cloud which had miraculously appeared in the light. "Oh damn... Dizzy's awake," the stallion stated quietly. "Could today get any stranger?" the gryphon asked to no-one in particular. The sound of shouting alerted the two of them, and they prepared for the worst, only to find a rather petite, female draconequus dropping from the innards of the cloud, which spat her out with a light coughing noise, accompanied with more confetti. The cloud dissipated into nothingness and the gryphon launched himself into the air to catch the young female. "What the hell were you doing up there with that freaky cloud?" Storm asked, obviously upset at the day's already strange events. "HEY," Dizzy shouted. "Frank was NOT freaky... Just misunderstood." "You named a pink cloud that spat confetti?" the stallion asked slowly, putting extra emphasis in his words. "You know what, fuck you guys... and that cat... I'm going home." "Cat?" inquired Dizzy. "What cat? Where? Is it cute? Does it have a name?" A loud cough emanated from the bush as the strange cat stalked out. "I do have a name you know," It harrumphed, rather irritated. "OOH! I've never seen a genie like this before!" the draconequus said, staring intently at the cat. "Shut up. I'm not a genie, I'm a cat. Besides, the name's Cheshire. and if any of you call me cute, I'll scratch your eyes out." "Alright, talking cat. What do you want?" Quickdraw quickly cut in before Dizzy could speak up again. "I mean, we're not exactly the most normal travelling group, but I'm sure we can do something to help you... Were you sleeping in that bush?" "Once again, plebeian, the name is Cheshire. And yes, I was sleeping in that bush, until you decided to wake me up by smashing those bottles. Thanks for that by the way." "Don't mention it. So why were you sleeping in that bush?" "Well, I don't really want to talk about it... But can I travel with you? You seem like you can handle yourself and I always did want travelling companions." The mismatched group turned to each other, talking in shushed tones, glancing at the cat named Cheshire every now and again. Eventually they came to a decision. "Fine," Storm grumbled. "you can join us, on the condition that you pull your weight... and tell us how you got those weird crosses on your legs." "That is acceptable. Although, I don't know how much use I will be, seeing as I'm a talking cat," Cheshire stated simply, and with that, the group, consisting of an unusually coloured pony, a one eyed gryphon soldier, a draconequus and a talking cat, headed back to the hotel, no doubt to scare the wits out of the clerk.
Unbeknownst to the rest of the group however, one thought was running through Quickdraw's head. What in the name of Celestia's golden beard, have I gotten myself into?
The foal shuddered as tears ran down his face. His tenth birthday, a happy event by any means, was turning into a nightmare. His parents were gone and nothing he could do would bring them back. The doctors said that their wounds were too severe. "Had they been brought in immediately, they might have been saved," they told him. "However, even in saying that, their chances were slim to none. Even if they did survive, they would have been crippled for the remainder of their lives."
The foal shook his head, trying to forget the memories of the day, his tears glistening in the low light of the orphanage bunks. "IT'S NOT FAIR!!!" he screamed. "WHY DID THEY HAVE TO BE TAKEN FROM ME?" The other children stirred in their bunks, trying to block out the crying. They'd all heard it a million times before, and some had even gone through it themselves. They just wanted to ignore the tears, lest they remember their loss too. It was at this point that a middle-aged caretaker, working for the orphanage as part of the night staff, trotted into the mid-sized room to see what the commotion was.
She noticed the young foal crying to himself, tears wetting his face. She gently picked him up with her wings, placing him softly on her back and carrying him into the other bedroom, hers, where she held him to her chest. At first, the foal tried to resist, but the strong forelegs and wings of the pegasus mare held him close in a caring embrace. Eventually, the foal gave in to the warm, tender embrace of the caretaker, sobbing into the early hours of the morning. "Its okay Quickdraw. Its okay," the mare cooed softly, these being the last words the foal heard before he fell asleep in the her arms.
----
Although a few odd looks were thrown their way, the group made it uneventfully to the hotel. However, to say that what they found was not to their liking... would be an understatement.
The group fell silent as they stared at the sign on the door of the hotel. That is to say they fell silent for around 5 seconds after which Dizzy burst into tears, made entirely of chocolate milk. "WHY?" the childlike girl cried, "WHY MUST THE KITCHEN BE CLOSED?" "Ah quit yer whinin'," the gryphon said gruffly, taking a sip from a hip flask which had seemingly materialised from nowhere. "But... But.. Waffles... Waffles Stormy!" "Well... This was a bust," Quickdraw stated simply, rather depressed at the lack of breakfast. "Why don't we ask the clerk pony what the deal is with this?" Cheshire, the group having discovered that she was in fact a girl (after much agony and some new scars on the gryphon's face), rubbed her eyes rather sleepily from her perch on Storm's head. She yawned silently, stretching her forelegs before taking a quick glance at her surroundings. "Wha... Whoozere? Oh... It's just you morons." "HEY, I resent that!" Quickdraw snapped. "Besides, I'm the only one here with an IQ of 140. Last time I checked, that's on par with the absolute highest level of geniuses in all of Equestria. Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing, wandering the lands with you lot..." "Weren't we about to ask that clerk over there about my waffles?" Dizzy asked, interrupting the stallion before he could continue his rant. "Oh right..." The group wandered over to the clerk, who became quickly overwhelmed and intimidated at the sight of such a varied group of obviously strange travellers. "C-c-can I help you?" she timidly asked. "Err... Yes. I believe you can..." the stallion replied. "Go on sir..." She replied, waving her hoof in a circular motion. "Well, we couldn't help but notice your kitchen was closed..." "Why can't I have any waffles... I has a sad now..." Dizzy interrupted, holding out a large teardrop with a frowny-face on it while simultaneously giving the clerk an adorable puppy-eyes look. "Gah," the clerk managed to sputter, momentarily losing her mental faculties under the sheer adorableness of the look Dizzy was giving her. "Its okay, use your words," Cheshire giggled, obviously amused at the situation. "Cheshire, not helping," snapped quickdraw, shooting an angry look at the cat. "Anyway, we noticed your kitchen is closed and as you can tell, we're pretty hungry. Care to explain?" "Well... That's the thing sir. We can't find the cook. It seems that she's gone missing," the clerk replied, managing to look away from Dizzy "Missing, you say?" the gryphon spoke up, suddenly interested. "Yes sir. Like I said, missing. We went and knocked on her door, but all we found was a ransacked house and claw marks on the floorboards." "Right. This sounds bad. Storm, get up to your room, grab a bag of gem lights or torches." The gryphon gave the stallion a salute as he flew up the stairs. "Dizzy, do you have anything that you can use to defend yourself?" Dizzy snapped out of her puppy-dog eyes and instantly grew serious. "Yeah, I have my hammer." "Good, go get it." "Right away buddy!" she exclaimed, disappearing from the room in a cloud of pink smoke.
The Clerk could only watch, amazed, as the group rushed to their respective rooms with determination, not usually seen in the small town. As she waited for their return she thought of her friend, Violet Fritter. She hoped to the creator that Violet was okay.
The gryphon Warmaster shouted orders at his troops. The rain poured from the heavens. The wind howled, as if in pain. The windswept plains of the battlefield almost bled misery and death. And here, stuck in this nightmarish hell, was a scared gryphon. Barely a full-grown male, but barely out of his teenaged years. The soldier's knees clanked together in his armour, causing his commanding officer to shoot him a wary look. "Sergeant!" the captain boomed, "What is the meaning of this?" "I don't understand Sir, what do you mean?" He replied shakily. "Your armour is jangling, Sergeant! Care to explain?" "Sorry sir. It's my first deployment on 'The Plains'... I'm scared sir." "Your first..." The captain facepalmed an armoured claw into his forehead with an audible slap, sighing at the same time. "Fucking rookies... Alright, come with me. I have a job for you." "Sir, yes sir!"
The Sergeant followed the Captain into his tent, wherein a group of seven or so unicorns stood at attention, sharply saluting the Captain. The tent was sparsely furnished, as were all military tents, a simple desk and a bunk, along with a footlocker containing the Captain's personal belongings. "Sergeant, these fine stallions here are looking for candidates to test a new spell, meant to desensitise troops to the horrors of war." The captain gestured to the unicorns. "Given your current state of nearly wetting yourself perpetually, I believe that this is an opportunity that you cannot afford to pass up if you wish to serve here." "Sir, it would be an honour to me to undergo this experiment," the sergeant replied "Very well. Sign here."
The gryphon picked up a quill lying on the desk and attempted to sign his name. Curiously, the ink disappeared as soon as it touched the page. "No sir, we need something a little more substantial than ink," one of the unicorns said. "Well, what would that be?" the Sergeant asked. "We need blood, sir." The gryphon stared at the unicorns blankly. Had they truly asked him to sign his name in blood on the page? What was this experiment? "Don't worry sir," a unicorn stated. "We only need a drop. Anywhere on the paper is fine." Worried for what was to come, the gryphon bit the flesh on one of his talons, blood seeping out of the wound. He quickly let it drop onto the page before covering the wound. The page briefly glowed before the letters disappeared, leaving only the drop of blood and two simple words. Words that inspired fear from the gryphon. His name, etched in blood. Whirlwind Storm.
----
The group moved with haste to the address given to them by the clerk. Ponies and gryphons alike moved out of their way, knowing their serious task. News travels fast in small towns. When they reached the home of Violet Fritter, they immediately saw something which made their hearts leap into their throats and their stomachs churn.
The door to the house looked to have been blown completely off its hinges, blasting wooden chips all over the interior of the abode. The windows on the first floor were broken, a slight smattering of blood coating the razor sharp edges. Quickdraw scanned the area surrounding the house, quickly noting the dead body of a diamond dog, partially hidden by the bushes, and what appeared to be part of a talon from a gryphon. While the stallion was observing the surroundings, Storm took it upon himself to attempt to figure out what happened. He looked at Dizzy, who's face had turned serious, for permission to enter the abode. She nodded slowly, her eyes hardening at the grim sight. Cheshire jumped off the gryphon's head and headed towards Dizzy. Storm entered the home through the battered remains of the front door. Almost immediately he saw signs of a struggle. The floorboards were marred beyond repair, pieces of the door had impacted on the floor with enough force to impale themselves into the thick wooden boards. Claw marks could be seen, the deep lines starting at the stairs and leading to the back exit.
Storm headed upstairs. The scene on the second floor was even worse than on the first. Blood covered at least a third of the room, though he couldn't tell if it was Violet's or not. One thing was certain though, Violet Fritter could pack one hell of a kick. Teeth, most likely from a Diamond Dog, were scattered around the room, blood coating the tips. There were feathers lightly blowing around in a breeze coming in from the broken window. Furniture looked as though it had been thrown around, splintered and shattered. The sheets on the bed were torn and bloodstained. A sickening stench permeated the room, causing Storm to gag. "Damn..." The gryphon whispered. "This is one fucked up crime scene." The gryphon was quickly dragged out of his thought process when he heard a sharp whistle. "You find anything?" came a shout from below. Storm couldn't place his claw on it, but something in Quickdraw's voice sounded off. "Not really," he replied, dismissing the notion. "Do you want to come up and take a look?" "Yeah, alright." The sound of hooves coming up the stairs reached the gryphon's ears, followed by the sound of a door opening. "Damn... Fritter really made a mess out of whoever attacked her, eh buddy?" came a voice from behind the gryphon warrior. A voice that was most definitely NOT Quickdraw's. With one swift movement, Storm drew his broadsword Bothynus, swinging the tool of death in a tight arc towards his potential attacker. The blade came to a rest millimetres from the throat of a dark brown unicorn stallion. "Whoa, easy there big guy. I'm just the messenger." The stallion backed away slowly, attempting to levitate the sword out of the vicinity of his neck with great difficulty. "Damn, why can't I move your sword?" "She's made of Arcanite. Now, start talking. What did you do to my friends?" The gryphon demanded. "Nothing, I swear!" "You lie. Now talk, or I get to see what the inside of your stomach looks like." The gryphon hefted his sword lightly, nicking the stallion's throat, causing blood to drip from the wound. "I get it, I get it!" the stallion wailed. "Look, all I know is that right now, your friends are being dragged through underground tunnels to be held as slaves." "So it was Diamond Dogs?" "Yes! Please, I've told you what you wanted to know, just let me go!" Storm grunted, lowering his arcanite blade, only for the stallion to fire a blast of magic into the gryphon, flinging him through the wall and sending wooden shards raining on the pavement below. Shit, Storm thought. Alright, let's just get this over with. As the gryphon pulled himself up off the pavement and grabbed his sword, the stallion who had blasted him waltzed out through the front door, a wide smirk plastered on his face. "And the dogs said you guys looked tough. You haven't even put up a fight." Storm laughed. "You think that just because you got in a surprise attack, you've won?" He laughed again before his face fell, growing dark. "You couldn't be more wrong." Storm pumped his wings, launching himself towards the stallion while swinging the broadsword in a wide sweep. The stallion momentarily forgot the magic-nullifying effects of the blade, attempting to stop its deadly motion.
He failed.
The sword sliced into the stallion's face, cutting out a large chunk. Bothynus followed through completely, slicing like a hot knife through butter, resulting in the stallion's eye exploding in a shower of blood and gore. The stallion reeled back, screaming. As Storm reached the height of his follow-through, he twirled the blade, bringing it back in a thrust. The blade pierced the stallion's stomach, slicing right through to the point that the broadsword was hilted in the stallion's gut. Storm wrenched it free, grimacing at the sight. "Well would you look at that. Your insides are disgusting, just like you," Storm spat, wiping the stallion's blood from his face. "Well, that's not very nice of you to say. He was my favourite," came a new voice. "And you had to go and gut him like a fish. Oh well, he can be replaced." Storm whirled around, trying to find the source of the voice. A sudden sharp pain in his skull flared and all that followed was darkness.
The gryphon walked into a dark room. A flickering lantern swung overhead, harshly lighting a circular section on the floor. Within the light's visible cone, a single chair presented itself, bolted to the floor. A voice came from the darkness. It sounded warped and distorted, as though altered by magic. "Whirlwind Storm, I presume?" it said. The gryphon nodded slowly, his heart pounding. "Right. Please, sit." Storm slowly made his way over to the chair, his red eyes glinting as they passed into the light. Upon closer examination the chair was grooved for the back of a gryphon, holes situated in the chair allowing for their wings and solid tails. Most disturbing to Storm, however, were the straps where his legs and head would be. "Sit, Mr Storm. We must not delay the experiment any further," came the voice again. "What is this? What are you going to do?" Storm shakily asked. "Never you mind yet, Mr Storm. Now, SIT!" Jumping at the sudden order, Storm crawled into the chair, not wishing to anger the mysterious voice. Almost instantly the straps wound around him, holding him in place. A door slid open somewhere in the shadows of the room and a cloaked pony walked into the light. The gryphon would remember every aspect of this mare. The hard lines on her forehead. The darkness in her eyes. The black shade of her coat. The green magical flames as her form changed into the chitinous armour of a changeling. The gryphon screamed, struggling at his bonds, and everything went to hell.
----
Dizzy awoke, coughing her way out of the blackness that was her unconscious mind. The first thing she noticed was that she was in a cave. The second thing she noticed was the yellow unicorn stallion poking her tail. "Um... What are you doing there, mister?" she groggily asked. The stallion squealed softly and backed away as far as he could, which, in this room, was not very far. "Oh sweet Celestia!" he cried. "Please don't eat me!" Dizzy pondered whether or not she should eat him. He was awfully noisy after all. She decided against eating the poor stallion, opting instead to snap her talons and cause the stallion's mouth to be suddenly full of peanuts. To her surprise, the stallion almost burst into tears. He quickly chewed and swallowed the legumes before speaking again. "Oh thank you! I haven't eaten something that good in nearly three days. A bit salty though, you wouldn't happen to have any water would you?" he said, seemingly in one breath. Dizzy liked this pony. He was funny. "Sure," she said, snickering under her breath. "Here. A nice glass of water." She snapped her talons again, causing a glass filled with what appeared to be water to appear. The stallion started to drink it greedily before slowing down with a sour look on his face. "AUGH!" He spat the liquid out with a sharp frown. "Lemon juice! You gave me LEMON JUICE?" "Aww! I was just having fun..." Dizzy shot him a look which spoke of deep apologies. "Gah!" The stallion was thrown for a loop at the draconequus' strange behaviour. "Erm... Well... I do believe that we haven't been properly introduced. My name is Doctor Ersatz Lexicon, though most people call me 'Doc' or 'Doctor Lexicon' if you will." "Well hey doc, what's up? My name is Dizzy. I'm a draconequus!" "Er... Yes, I can see that." "So... Where am I? And on that note, where are my friends?" "Ah yes, the grey stallion and the gryphon, no?" "Yeppers, that's them. Although there should be a funny looking cat with them too." "Hmm, no, I don't think I saw a cat amongst the new prisoners." "Waitwaitwaitwaitwait. Hold up a minute. Prisoners?" Dizzy, safe to say, was shocked at the revelation of her current predicament. "Mmhmm. Yep. Prisoners. They also have my 'partner', for lack of a better word," Lexicon stated sarcastically. Dizzy was shocked to hear that apparently her entire group was being held captive, with the exception of Cheshire. Safe to say she didn't react well.
----
Storm awoke to find himself tied upside-down to a stalactite. He began hyperventilating, memories of experiments performed on him rising to the surface of his mind. Below the hyperventilating gryphon, a few voices could be heard. "Bird is waking up. Sounds scared. Get it down," one of them said. Storm felt his bonds being loosened followed by the light rush of wind as his panicked body fell from the ceiling onto the rough ground below. "Get up bird!" screamed a voice from his left. The gryphon, still in a highly panicked state, raised his forepaw, claws glinting in the low light, and brought it down with the intent of killing everything in sight, then escaping above ground. This, however, was not to happen. A hidden being slammed the butt of a spear into the gryphon's side, effectively silencing him. "You work mines now. But strange paws make axe hard to hold. You pull cart instead," the voice said. Storm rolled slightly towards the voice in an attempt to see his captor. What he saw didn't surprise him in the least. A dark coated Diamond Dog holding a lightly bloodstained spear growled back at him. This is going to be a long day...
----
Quickdraw Steele awoke to the sound of wailing. He groggily turned over only to come face to face with a dark, chocolate-brown earth pony. "You alright there guy?" the earth pony asked. "Ugh... Did you get the number of the carriage that hit me?" Quickdraw replied. "Heh, I don't know about any carriage, but those damn mutts sure hit you." "Mutts?" "Yep, you're now lying in the glorious home of our lovely captors. The perks include work for 12 hours a day, for no pay, and that's kind of a drag, but at least they leave us alone most of the time. Following the day's activities, we're treated by a gourmet five-star dinner consisting of a slice of bread, a cup of water and a light beating. It's kinda peaceful in here when I think about it." "Yeah, yeah... Quit the sarcasm kid." "Sor~ry. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Look, my name's Sky Shadow. I gotta ask, what's with your eyes? I mean, one's blue and one's red... What's the deal?" Quickdraw lifted a hoof to his red eye, running it along the thick, vertical scar. "I... A dear friend gave it to me. Leave it at that." he looked away, trying to clear his mind of the memory. "My name's Quickdraw Steele. On another note, who's that crying?" Sky Shadow gave him an odd look. "I think that's whoever they threw in with the doc. I heard them talking, but couldn't hear what they said." Quickdraw listened for the sounds, finding their location, he tried to focus on them. "I don't wanna be a slave! I'm too pretty for hard labour!" came a feminine voice He would know that voice anywhere. He surged to his hooves, rushing over to the cell door. He tried to open it, and to his surprise, it swung open with a light creak. Quickdraw stared, dumbstruck, at the door. "Well, well... What do you know... It was unlocked all along," came Sky's voice from behind him. "You mean to tell me that in the unknown period of time that you've been here, you not once tried the door?" Quickdraw shot Sky a dirty look. "Nah, I was pretty happy to just sleep on the floor of the room." The grey stallion brought a hoof to his face, running it down his muzzle in a futile attempt to rub off the stupid that he thought Sky must have infected him with. "Alright look," he said. "Here's the plan. We go and release the rest of the prisoners, then we fight our way out. Sound good?" "Uh, sure... But if you don't mind, I think I'll stick in the back," Sky replied. "Fine. Lets go" And with that, they left their cell to free Dizzy, who glomped Quickdraw as soon as the door to her cell swung open. As they walked down the halls, freeing the prisoners, one thought ran through his head... This is going to be a lo~ng day...
*Thwack* "Why is my horn hurting?" *BZZAP* *Thud* "Get prisoners back to cells! Bury dead, treat wounded..." Well... Shit...
----
"It's okay, Quickdraw. It's okay," cooed the mare, cradling the lightly sleeping grey colt in her forelegs. A sudden rumbling sounded through the room, causing it to shake lightly. Fixtures rumbled and pictures fell from the walls. Quickdraw snapped awake, shaking in the mare's tightening grip. "Quickdraw... I'm going to put you down... Get behind me," she shakily ordered, her body quivering in fear. She put Quickdraw down on his hooves, the foal nearly bursting into a fresh wave of tears from fear. He ran behind the pegasus mare, gripping her hind leg for comfort and protection. The floorboards groaned, bulging upwards before snapping violently, sending shards of timber flying through the room. The mare screamed, waking the orphanage, as a mid-sized shard lodged itself in her wing. Diamond Dogs appeared from the newly formed holes toting spears and clubs. The grey unicorn colt shook in fear and anger, his horn starting to glow. "Nonono nononoNO!" The room shook again, the dogs looked away from the injured mare to see the unicorn foal shining brightly, radiant like the sun, floating in the air. "What is happening? Pony cast spell?" The colt screamed, causing the dogs to hold their ears in pain. A wave of colourless magic washed over the room, heating it to an unbearable temperature. The air shimmered, anything flammable began smoking and the foal's tears steamed as they evaporated in the intense heat.
A blast of white light filled the room, demolishing what was left of the floor along with the outer wall. Bodies flew through the air, burning all the while. The screams of the child mixed with the yelps and death-cries of the dogs. Flames licked the holes in the room, lighting the burning corpses with a sickly yellow glow.
Quickdraw slowly lowered to the destroyed floor, whispering under his breath. "Never again... Never again..." All the foal knew afterwards was darkness. Another shake. Another hole in the floor and another group of diamond dogs appeared, appalled at the sight before them. "Pony do this? Get him before he wakes."
Quickdraw woke slowly. Cold, crying and alone. The mare from the orphanage gone. The cell door, dark and heavy in the shadows of the cave. A low rumbling noise came from the left of the small colt. He rolled over to see a mid-sized gryphon, covered in scars, snoring away next to him. The gryphon snorted and rolled over which caused his beak to bump against the colt's nose. The gryphon woke, his red eyes snapping open to stare into the colt's. "And who might you be, little one?" he grumbled, his breath reeking of alcohol. The colt said nothing. "Oh, a quiet one are you?" The colt shook his head furiously. "Then why aren't you answering?" Quickdraw scooted back, away from the gryphon. "You're scary, mister," he said. "Oh," the gryphon sat up, towering over the young foal. "Sorry kid. Name's Whirlwind Storm. Call me Storm. What's yours?" "Umm... My name's Quickdraw Steele. Nice to meet you," the foal replied, shakily holding out a hoof. Storm grasped the hoof in his large front paw and simply stated, "Pleasure's mine kid." Quickdraw gazed in wonder at the odd forepaw of the gryphon and asked one simple question, "How come your claws are paws Mr. Storm?" Storm's face dropped, long enough for Quickdraw to see his reaction to the question before letting out a huge booming laugh, falling on the floor and hammering it with his enormous paws. "Ahahaha... Whew... That's the hardest I've laughed in ages. I can't believe that a little runt like you would talk to a big scary gryphon like that!" He guffawed, deflecting the question. "W-well I'm from Stalliongrad. There were always plenty of gryphons around," Quickdraw replied, slowly warming up to the enormous bird/lion hybrid. "Oh yeah? I always liked Stalliongrad... Plenty of booze, plenty of crime and plenty of hens. Which area are you from?" "Just on the outskirts. My ma and pa own... used to own... an old blacksmithing hovel," Quickdraw answered, once again tearing up at the mention of his parents. "Oh... OH! I'm sorry kid, I didn't know." Storm drew back slightly, genuinely sorry to have brought up the topic. Quickdraw sniffed. Quietly, he said "It's okay, you couldn't have known." "If you don't mind me asking, how'd they go?" "The investigator said that it was a robber." "Oh..." An awkward silence overcame the two. "So... What is it that we do here?" Quickdraw asked. "The last thing I remember is a bunch of Diamond Dogs, the room being really hot and then nothing." "Well," the gryphon started, unsure on how to word their predicament. "You're right in that it was mutts who got you. Pretty much what happens is that we... Well, we mine for them. Don't ask why, I don't know." Quickdraw lowered his head, the implications of the statement not being missed. "So, I'm a slave?" he asked. The gryphon nodded slowly. And with that, the young foal fell to the floor. Crying. The gryphon warrior took the colt in his large paws and held him close, keeping a silent, diligent watch for anything which might disturb them.
----
Quickdraw awoke to hear a light purring coming from behind his prone form. He craned his neck to find his long-time friend, Whirlwind Storm, cradling him in the gryphon's large, odd paws. He pulled himself out from his friend's grasp, the paws falling to the rough ground with a light thump. The stallion shook his head to keep the memories of his past from flooding to the surface. "That was a long time ago," he said to himself. "We won't be trapped for that long... I hope."
---
It had been almost a year since the young grey foal had appeared in Storm's life. Since the first time they'd met in the dank cell they'd bonded. Life in the mines was hard. The mutts were extremely liberal with their whips and had even begun using a few clubs here and there along the tunnels. The beatings were plenty and the food scarce. One night, a few of the other prisoners tried to attack the young stallion, whom they claimed was hoarding food and receiving larger portions. Those prisoners hadn't survived the night. Between Storm's claws and the whips of the dogs, they didn't even stand a chance.
As time passed, the repetitive hard labour grew less dull, becoming almost enjoyable for the two friends (Despite the generous lashings). They made the most of it. On one meaningless day during their captivity, they'd broken into a small cave adjoining several others, possibly dug by diamond dogs in the past. It was in this uncovered cave that Storm found a simple artefact. A harmonica, the little tin instrument quickly became a welcome source of entertainment. One of the earth ponies knew how to play, and so he taught the pair a song. He called it Spokey Dokey.
The song proved to be an instant hit, the prisoners enjoying every second that it was played for.
It wasn't until Quickdraw's fourth year of captivity that anything went incredibly wrong.
His 14th birthday had come and gone. They'd just started working on a new tunnel in the lower levels of the mines when they noticed a larger than normal number of injured prisoners being carried past them, their backs covered in oozing gashes. Storm became increasingly worried as time passed. He'd heard that one of the gangers had taken to putting iron barbs in his whip as a sick encouragement tactic.
The two silently continued their work, not wishing to incur the wrath of their captors.
About two hours passed before the ganger was making his rounds in Storm's area. They'd reached a hardened segment in the tunnel and their progress was slow.
The ganger was angry.
The whip cracked.
Quickdraw screamed as the barbs tore at his back.
Storm was mortified. He cried out for Quickdraw.
The whip cracked again, tearing lines into the stallion's legs.
"STOP! He's just a child, whip me instead!"
And again.
"He can't take this! I'm twice his size and strength and look! We've barely made a dent in this section!"
The whip struck Quickdraw's face, tearing open his left eye, the barbs causing it to burst.
Storm's eyes narrowed to pinpricks as flecks of gore splattered against his face. Seeing Quickdraw lose an eye would not stand.
He struck, his wing cracking against the ganger's skull. The whip cracked, slashing against Storm's forepaws and was caught in his filthy, matted fur, the barbs pulling and tearing. His claws lashed out, tearing the dog's torso. The dog screamed. Shouts were heard from higher up in the tunnel. It was the guards.
They weren't happy.
More shouts, the prisoners were coming from the opposite direction.
They were going to war, and the two friends were stuck in the middle.
Quickdraw awoke to pain. His back and the left side of his face hurt immensely. He blinked, wondering where he was. The room appeared to be in the mines, its oppressive stone walls seemingly bearing down upon him. Something was strange, though. This room seemed almost clean in comparison to the rest of the mines - better lit too. Quickdraw stretched his neck, trying to get a better look of the strange room. What he saw, however, caused him to let out a strained cry of despair.
A large, feathered body lay on a bed next to Quickdraw, its black tipped wings bent and covered with blood. "Storm," he croaked, his throat tightening in worry. "Storm, get up."
Storm wasn't moving.
"No, don't do this. Storm, don't do this to me."
The feathered mass twitched, the muscular form wriggling to find a more comfortable position.
It was at that moment that an off-white, bloodstained unicorn decided to walk into the room, almost immediately spotting the grey stallion and rushing to his side. "Oh, you shouldn't be awake yet. I suppose the painkillers are wearing off," she tutted, her voice displaying her worry. "But why? What happened?" "Well, when your friend over there brought you in, you were in a pretty bad state." "How bad was it? And why is Storm here too?" "Well sweetie, when that gryphon brought you in, your back and left eye were torn to shreds," she began. "We immediately took you to a medic to try to patch you up. Unfortunately your eye was beyond our abilities to save." Quickdraw felt himself raising a hoof to the vertical stitches running down his face. "But I can still see! What happened?" The mare looked to the gryphon, the look on her face telling Quickdraw everything he needed to know. "Get me a mirror," he said quietly. The mare stood stock still, silent. "GET ME A FUCKING MIRROR!" he roared. The mare let out a small squeak before levitating a small hand mirror over to the panicked stallion. Quickdraw looked into the reflective surface, seeing the damage that the dog had caused. He could see the tight, bloody bandages wrapped around his midsection, most likely concealing more stitches. He could see the wounds on his face, a criss-crossing pattern of stitch-work and scarred flesh. Most of all though, he could see his eyes. His right eye remained the same, an ice blue. His left, however, had a thick, messy, vertical line of stitches.
It was red.
The same colour as Storm's.
Looking over to his friend, he noticed for the first time that the large gryphon was awake. "Well hey there buddy," he said, his voice croaking. "You're awake. I gotta say, that eye looks good on you." Quickdraw could only stand there, staring at the bandaged and padded area on Storm's face where his eye used to be. Staring at the shaved fur on his forelegs, where rows upon rows of stitches held together torn flesh. Quickdraw guessed that something serious had happened, but he couldn't remember anything. "Storm, what happened?" the stallion asked, tearing up at the sight of his friend. Storm looked softly at the nurse, motioning to move the stallion closer to him. Taking her cue, she slowly pushed the beds together with her magic before leaving the two to their conversation. "Well kid... I'm not sure how to tell you this," Storm said slowly. "That dog, the one with the barbed whip, came around. He was pretty mad and I guess he took it out on us. Don't worry though, when he tore your eye out I pounced him. Tore the fucker's throat out before taking his eye too. Hell, when I ended that mutt, all I could hear was the shouts of prisoners and dogs, heading to battle. I guess I must have dragged you to the nearest pony I could find who must have brought us here." Quickdraw stared at Storm, his mind going blank as he tried to comprehend the information being thrown in his face. "Kid, you alright? You look a little woozy there," Storm said, worry starting to creep into his voice. "Wha?" The stallion choked. Storm hesitated, "When I killed that dog, the prisoners took it as a sign of rebellion. We're at war kiddo. A filthy, underground, slave revolt, but a war none the less. We were damn lucky that the first things the slaves took were the med-ward and the food supplies. I guess the slaves took it as a sign or something, I don't really know the politics kid." The stallion stared, his mind working a mile a minute. "B-but why me," he stammered. "Why would one dog being killed start a rebellion like that? So many other prisoners have been hurt or killed. Even the dogs have suffered casualties, by their own or by slaves trying to escape. So why me?" "I don't know kid." "So, you killed the dog that whipped me, started a fucking rebellion and don't even know why?" Quickdraw screeched, pushing the gryphon away. "Well, it was either that or watch you die!" Storm yelled back, his voice cracking at the mere thought. "Then why did you give me your eye?" The stallion whimpered, his voice dropping to sub-sonic levels. "Because," the warrior said softly, "nobody so young should live in so much pain. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew that I could have let you keep your sight, even at the cost of my own. I'm sorry kid, but what's done, is done. And for the record, I'd give my life for you if worse came to worse, kiddo."
Upon hearing those words, Quickdraw couldn't hold back. He let his tears flow freely, though they only flowed from his one blue eye. Storm slowly, carefully, wrapped a wing around the sobbing unicorn, holding him close until he fell asleep.
Darkness... That's all there was... Just... Darkness... Nothing but black... Really, quite a boring experience. There was nothing to do, nobody to talk to, and nothing to look at. It was just... Empty... Save for one thing...
An egg.
-----
Digging.... There's something special about digging. Especially when you've done it before. Despite the circumstances, Quickdraw found it almost soothing, to be back underground, digging as a slave to the D-dogs. There was a certain rhythm you needed to get into. Lift, strike, pull. Lift, strike, pull. Over and over. One rhythm to rule them all. Quickdraw mused at this fact, trying to find light in the familiar situation he found himself in. Storm couldn't work due to his previous experience, so the mutts kept him locked up in the above-ground areas of the mines and Dizzy... He didn't think anyone knew where she was, or what she was doing. Cheshire had disappeared days ago, and nobody had seen hide nor hair of her. So, Quickdraw made himself as content as possible, just digging away at this stone/dirt wall.
It's not so bad, he thought. At least they're feeding us properly.
Not a single pony or dog had seen Dizzy since the attempted breakout. She'd disappeared without a trace, the only things left behind being a pile of confetti and a kazoo. As it turns out, most of the prisoners were too scared or too complacent to even try. Quickdraw had been hearing stories about an enormous dog that ran the mines in place of the alpha. Not only that, but he found himself on the receiving end of a magical inhibitor ring. The very same ring that caused his magic to backfire when he tried using his horn. He briefly wondered what had even happened to Cheshire. The cat hadn't been seen since the group was ambushed back in town. Quickdraw was coming to miss the fussy cat's remarks. Yet, despite all these thoughts, Quickdraw kept digging. His plans of escape slowed to a grinding halt and thrown out the window. Without Storm and Dizzy's assistance, there was little to no chance of freedom.
A shout came from around the corner, startling Quickdraw. He dropped his pickaxe and ran towards the noise, only to find that the commotion was already over. A large brown minotaur lay writhing in pain, clutching his face, blood soaking through his fingers and beginning to pool on the floor. A burly dog, one of the gangers, stood over him breathing heavily. Blood stained the mutt's black claws, dripping to the ground in small droplets.
A gravelly, booming voice came from further down the tunnel. "Why is this slave injured? Who told you to hurt them?" The ganger took a step back, fear beginning to show on its features as the sound of claws scraping along the walls and tapping on the ground could be heard echoing throughout the tunnel. The scent of the bull's blood grew stronger, the coppery tang blending with the scent of sweat and tears. The new voice came closer, its hulking frame filling at least half of the pathway. The ganger turned to run. "Don't let that mutt escape," the voice boomed. "Catch them!" The ganger started sprinting towards Quickdraw, only to be brought to a sudden stop as the stallion stuck out his leg, tripping the dog, causing it to crash to the ground in a jumbled heap.
"Please pony," it pleaded, its feminine voice at odds with her large, bulky frame. "Please don't turn me in! Let me escape, and I'll do the same for you..." Quickdraw contemplated his options in the short time he had. On one hoof, I could just leave her to her fate... probably death... and on the other, I could get her to help me escape the other mutts later down the track. Weighing his options, he decided to just leave the girl to her fate. He wasn't happy, but at least he might be rewarded.
The beast of a dog lumbered closer, the sound of his paws hitting the floor akin to the rumbling of a mountain. The female cowered and tried to run again, but an enormous paw dropped like a boulder onto her back, pinning her in place. The new dog cracked his knuckles, the sound causing the girl beneath him to tremble and begin to cry. "You, grey slave pony," he began. "Get that bull to the infirmary and wait by his side until I arrive. I need to speak with you both." Qucikdraw nodded silently, grabbing the minotaur's muscular arms and throwing them over his back. He turned and began walking towards where he believed the infirmary to be, hearing the screams of the female and the wet crunches and squelches that came with them.
---
The minotaur's wounds were treated and stitched shut, though they would remain for the rest of his life. He came to slowly as the effects of the painkillers wore off. "Urgh.... What happened?" he croaked, his deep voice resounding through the room. Quickdraw nervously looked towards the large bull. "Well... I don't know what happened, but you were hurt," he began. "A dog tore a some large wounds into your face. She's probably dead now..." The bull stared, obviously troubled by the information. "She's.... Dead?" Quickdraw stood stock still, his head hanging low, the sounds of the dog's screams still in his ears. "Didn't she try to escape? She was supposed to get away!" The minotaur's voice echoed, each and every word a dagger piercing Quickdraw's soul. "I... I stopped her," he said, his voice quivering. "I stopped her from getting away, and now she's dead because of me!" The bull stared, tears beginning to stain the bandages wrapping his wounds. "She... she told me the plan was sound... that nobody would get hurt..." "P-plan?" The minotaur's eyes turned questioning, his features softening slightly. "Y-you mean you didn't know?" Quickdraw looked uneasy. He knew something was wrong with this picture, but he couldn't figure out what. "Well," the bull started, "she was helping a group of slaves escape... I was the distraction." "So you got yourself cut up and beat to shit to help some other slaves escape?" "Yes... Look, I'm pretty mad at you for what happened, but I'm willing to forgive if you help me with something. Name's Brutus by the way." Brutus the minotaur held out his hand which Quickdraw accepted and shook. "Quickdraw. So... what is it you want me to do?" Brutus opened his mouth to speak, but quickly drew it shut as the door to his room slammed open. It was the dog from earlier, his enormous frame completely filling the doorway and then some. The two slaves swallowed nervously as the dog peered into the room. He pointed a large finger at Quickdraw, motioning for him to head outside. He obliged.
The dog shut the door to Brutus' room before kneeling down in front of the stallion, inspecting him. "Look into my eyes slave," the beast boomed. "I am Atlas, your new master." Quickdraw glared at the mutt, his change of paws lighting a fire in his eyes. The dog stood and laughed, the sound echoing deep into the caves and rattling anything loose nearby. "You've got some fight in your eyes pony, I like that. That's why I'm sending you to the arena, or as the slaves call it, 'Purgatory'."
It had been days since the tests and experiments had begun. Days since his last contact with anyone other than changelings and scientists. Days since he had felt the wind in his fur and the blood of his enemies on his blade.
His talons had changed, his thoughts grew clouded and his mind raged for release.
---
The portions of the mines on the surface were rather different from the tunnels. The dogs always made sure that only the largest, strongest slaves were situated there as they would be responsible for hauling the ores, gems and debris from further down. The situations near the surface were even worse than those down below. The dogs needed to keep these slaves weak so that they wouldn't have the strength to rebel. Unfortunately, this meant beatings, starving the slaves and outright refusing medical treatment. Slaves died more often on the surface than anywhere else, their bodies being burned in piles instead of being buried.
Storm was barely surviving.
A group of large beasts constantly harassed him, sometimes spurred on by the gangers. He'd tried time and time again to avoid these monsters, but they seemed to have a knack for finding him. For beating him. For stealing from him and for making his life miserable. They were headed by a slave going by the alias "Rodent", for her smaller size and seemingly innate ability to hide, steal from and outthink almost anyone and anything that came her way.
Since being sent to the surface mines, Storm had endured their torment. Time and time again, he'd caught them stealing, beating the slaves and even killing those who tried to stand up to them. And so he kept his head down. No sense in stirring the hornet's nest, he supposed, wandering back to his cage after a long day's work.
It wasn't long before he noticed something amiss. As usual, his food tray was empty, save for scraps of bread not fit to eat. The absence of evidence that it was one of Rodent's lackeys was strange, but that wasn't what tipped him off. He looked around carefully, his eye scanning the room. Almost immediately he spotted it. A small bundle of black-brown fur curled up on the straw he called his bed.
----
If there was one thing Cheshire had always been good at, it was hiding. Since the incident at Violet Fritter's household, she'd been following, watching and waiting. The dogs hadn't gone easy on her friends. Between the beatings and the other prisoners, one would think that the mutts were specifically picking on them. It's probably because of that idiot pony that Storm killed, she thought. Slavers tend to dislike the deaths of their companions...
Looking downcast and slinking out of the shadows, the tiny cat strode carefully into the sunlight. She spotted the gryphon almost immediately. Something as large and as odd as Storm was easy to spot. She found him taking hits to the face, the slaves attacking him clawing at his eyepatch, trying to get their filthy hands, hooves and claws on the precious dragonscale. It was safe to say that they didn't. Storm kept a paw over his patch, the large furred appendage keeping all attempts at reaching it at bay. Weak and unable to help at the time, Cheshire slowly made her way over to what appeared to be Storm's cage. The gryphon's large black-tipped feathers were sprinkled around what she hesitated to call a "bed", so she settled herself on the small pile. Drifting off to sleep, she thought about how to tell her companions of herself. Of what she was. Her last conscious thoughts were not pleasant.
----
Walking slowly towards the small cat, Storm reached out, his paw softly stroking its fur. Waking slowly, the cat rolled over, her one visible red eye staring right into Storm's.
"Well hey there, kitten," Storm whispered. "Good to see you're up. I've gotta say, it's nice to see a friendly face."
Cheshire rolled back over, not wishing to be disturbed. "Ugh," she moaned. "Let me sleep..."
"Not a chance cat," the gryphon replied, turning the cat over to face him. "Where have you been?"
"Hiding. When you got attacked, I hid. I... I can't fight. I-I can't let it happen again." Storm looked questioningly at the cat, attempting to discern her meaning. "I can't let it take over again."
"What do you mean, it, Chesh?"
"Look," she snapped. "It's not important. So long as I never have to fight, I'll be just fine."
The gryphon held up his paws, signalling that he wasn't going to pry. "Look, whatever. You look exhausted, get some rest."
Cheshire nodded slowly, her eyelids drooping, before falling sound asleep. Slowly, Storm pulled some of his torn blanket over her so as to hide her from the monsters outside, before sighing, hanging his head and trudging out to ask for a favour of his enemy, the Rodent.
----
Deep within the mines, in the foulest pits of what could only be described as a living hell, a large, too-white grin spread across the filthy face of an old, old being.
