Wings of Freedom

Chapter 1:

Some say that the strength of mankind is their unwavering determination to rise above their meager beginnings and climb the hurdles of inadequacy to stand shoulder to shoulder with the greatest races of them all. Despite the mayfly like lifespan compared to those of the mighty dragon, they achieve more than one might expect. For while dragon and elf can sit and afford to dwell and ponder, they are forced to act, grab what hold they can before death sweeps in to cut their cords.

Some may say this inner fire is their greatest flaw that dooms not only them, but all that call them ally. For in such speed no careful planning is thought, the short term takes president over the long. They have no respect for the past and only glorify the present, never looking back on the destruction they wrought.

For better or worse, it was for history to decide, Drokar was an example of both.

Four hundred years prior this kingdom of humans was a tiny and delicate thing. One tiny footnote in the continent of Ebech, surrounded by mountains in all directions. This loose collection of towns and villages found itself at the mercy of bloodthirsty monsters, scores of unholy minions, and savage races that took slaves and used humans as nothing better than prey or sport. This was a time of sharpened walls, brave knights, and monster slayers to protect the realm. Under their vigilant shadow the encroaching hoards of foes were held at bay. In time they knew they might fall, but this was their land. Lucky for them, the gods of fate seemed to smile on their lands when the hill dwarves came with an interesting proposal.

Exiled from their lands came the clan of Odin Hammer, their people wrapped tight in gilded cloaks and covered wagons. They spoke in such flowery speech for the dwarven kind, and brought with them the knowledge of striking new sources of power that the world had never known. The elves had dismissed it, their brethren had seen it as an abomination. It was to harvest the magical weave itself. The magical energies that twirl invisible in the air, but ever so powerful. It let mortals give shape to all manner of magical feats, like heal the sick and wounded, or produce devastation and charms with flick of the wrsit. The dwarves could extract it from the air, and forge weapons of extraordinary power.

Enchanted with Arcanum stones as they were to be called, weapons that contained them were stronger than any smith elven or dwarf could forge. Weightless blades of the sharpest quality, but harder than even the strongest of metals. It was like the light itself had been hammered into shape, a torch given to barbarians to spark their evolution. But not only weapons could bear these wonderful things, armors could be fashioned as well. They were stronger than mithril, could deflect any blow, and hardly weighed a warrior down. Magic that had once been the mastery of mages and clerics now could be wielded by anyone. What had taken years to master could be learned in an afternoon, and the kingdom of Drakor was all too willing to accept gifts.

For they saw only their salvation within these wonderful trinkets, a future where they were no longer downtrodden. There was a bright horizon for their people, waiting to be had with these bearded saints. Their eyes sparkled with opportunity as sweet words sold them on untold prosperity at their fingertips.

Odin’s hammer clan was welcome with open arms, without many questions to be had. Instead these dwarves were draped in fine clothes and showered with gold. They were sold to the people as blessed saints and welcomed in every home. For the first time in decades, humans could forge their own destiny and not be weighted down by the malevolence of their neighbors.

Thus the kingdom was born anew by this alliance forged in blood. Their people’s were armed with the finest the dwarves could craft. The next few years were spent clearing every inch of their lands, driving out the orcs and goblins from their hovels. The gryphons became trusted friends and allies, the siigonis were refined to their swamps, the gnolls were all but slain. In the end the mountains had been reclaimed with courage and zeal that could not be matched. The kingdom sat united in unquestioning victory, where it would rest unchallenged for many years.

It was here that prosperity was forged in these fertile lands. The towns connected like those beyond their border had never dreamed of. Unconcerned with survival they were left to construct marvels that would astound the civilized world. Ships that could fly, beings of metal that had semblance of life, and wheeled contraptions that seemed to make mockery of distance between villages. Trips that took days or months could be done in hours at a time. Disease and famine were all but unheard of things, people were living longer and much more comfortable lives. Everything though came with a price.

It was many years before the first signs of trouble began creaking through the gilded glasses. The weave in which they found their strength started to weaken and dim. Where once spells had functioned, they now fizzled and died. The dwarves had done too good of a job it seemed. Magical beasts began to wither and die unless they fled, to make matters worse this aura of anti magic swept out from their lands at a steady rate. Soil and sky that once held the splendors of magic soon found itself barren and left with only the mundane. Each year this field ever increased, slowly it’s tendrils lapping at every living being of Ebech. If left unchecked it could threaten the very world itself, so the Elves to the west rose a banner in resistance. They would not stand idly by.

So it was that Ebech was rallied under a single banner when Drakor refused to give up their power. How could they? After everything they had achieved? So war soon struck the land as peace fell, and the promise of blood was sworn.

An alliance of Elves, Trolls, Fairies, dragons, and every kingdom envious of Drakor’s might marched against their lands. Heroic spirits soared as thousands of instruments heralded a day to be sung. For evil was to be vanquished and the forces of good rewarded. No advantage was lost to them, they brought powerful mages, divine clerics, even a whole order of magic wielding paladins. For one moment in time Ebech was a shining example of what the world could be, but fate had a darker tale in store. For the land in Drakor suffered not these interlopers.

Just as the magic had failed the humans it now failed its attackers. Battle raged but it was more like a terrible slaughter. Companies of well-trained soldiers were blown apart by examples of Arcanum might. Weapons clove through the toughest of hides, and even dragons were ripped from the sky. The air shook with power as smoke and fire ravaged the land. Each confrontation always ended the same, with Drakor’s victory over a field of smoldering corpses.

The elves with heavy hearts were ordered to retreat, force their allies to instead protect their own lands. At least their magic still held sway about them, and they could halt the ever-encroaching tide. Yet even this was not enough to satiate the ever-growing hunger of these dwarven contraptions. The extraction didn’t care for lines drawn years ago on a map, the pillaging of the weave continued to grow, corrupting the land beneath these kingdom’s boots.

Four hundred years have now since passed, and Drakor is a sprawling metropolis of might and wealth. All the kingdoms pay them fealty, bending the knee to their dominion. The land has all but lost its weave, magic is just a story passed around campfires. They know that it is only a matter of time before such things are lost forever, only having the Arcanum and stories to remember it by.

Our story starts on an ordinary summer’s eve, the twinkling stars like spotlights in a sea of inky black. The moon rested overhead, bored as another day is passed in tedium below its pale grace. Through the eerie silence of the night pierced a roar of an indomitable engine, a beast of metal and steam, powered by Arcanum and gilded from top to bottom. Its metallic wheels clacked along the hardened steel tracks, racing to be filled with a bounty fit for kings. Tonight, it carried a special cargo, one forged with courage, clad in purpose, and filled with righteous determination. Tonight, would be the spark of something greater.

****** ***** ***** ***** ****

Steam slithered from the train’s engines, curling above the gilded golden phoenix seared into it’s metallic hide. The metal beast’s whistle screeched through the night, announcing its arrival to the station. Brakes activated, the sounds dulled, and everything came to a stop. For a moment everything was still, not a sound to be heard. Only the lingering hisses as air escaped its mighty pistons.

Two guards wobbled and yawned, bags hanging under their sunken eyes, rubbing their clean-shaven chins.  Dark red uniforms rested upon their shoulders, crinkled, and painted a lovely orange by the arcanum lanterns adorning the drakorian posts. It was just another night, more paperwork, and tasks to be completed, they hardly even gave the train cars in front of them a second glance.

“Come on Fred, I know your paid by the hour but come on!” One guard shouted, brushing along the ghostly glowing emitters fashioned to his arms.

Three shadows of feather and fur burst from the cargo cars in the blink of an eye. Before the men could even shout out in fear they were ripped and slashed to pieces. Beasts the size of horses towered over them, with curved beaks and talons as sharp as steel. The gryphons raced to what shadows could hold them, all but one among their number.

Feathers of darkened green covered his front, spreading down his form and giving way to earthen shades. Snow white circled his piercing yellow eyes.His blackened ears were perked, twitching for any semblance of trouble. Golden bindings were attached across his crown feathers, decorated in dwarven symbols. One proud gryphon of flesh and blood, all except one of his limbs. He dragged his metal claw softly on the stone as his piercing silver eyes glared at the train.

“Come on glowie!” He shouted, his voice as tight as a vice. “What we payin you for anyway. Take care of the bodies will you?”

A bearded human sighed, leaping from his crouched position on the train to the blood-painted cobblestone below. Hardened leather boots shot his muscular frame up, piercing blue eyes narrowed at the rended bodies. Was this not supposed to be a stealth operation? Trained ears perked as the sound of heavy footfalls marched in behind him. He spun, revealing his darkened red tunic in the lantern light.

Four more guards strolled into the train station, faces painted with dull routine lit with terror’s light as the bodies behind the man were revealed. In a flash their hands tapped silver ovals on their chests, metallic emitters for arcanum stones. Bright light of ivory sprung along their bodies from nothing, taking a hardened shape in the air. Every limb was shielded, except a solitary part along one of their arms. These magical projections rested in the night air, ghostly energy curling silently off their surfaces.

“Have fun!” One of the grey feathered gryphons winked. The female’s bright teal scarf billowing around her neck. She raced away with the others, gesturing to him with her teal tipped wings. “You’ll do fine!”

“Drop your weapons.” One braver guard than the rest spoke, swelling his chest as the color of his face drained with each passing breath. “And get on the ground you vagabond. You’re under arrest for murder! For the love of the gods, someone signal the commander, we got an intruder by the train. Did he murder the others as well?”

The human didn’t reply as he dashed towards his targets with practiced ease. Their training paled in comparison to his own and he had a job to do after all. This took the form of a distraction in this regard. With glowing eyes of the brightest blue they brimmed with an icy chill around his iris, he tapped a similar device on his chest to the guards. To their shock an blood red copy of their armor consumed every inch of him.

“He’s one of us!” One managed to shout as they pulled silver sword hilts from their belts.

Ghostly white blades of hardened burst into life, hissing angrily at the air.

Our figure pulled one of his very own from his hip, closing the distance between them in a flash. With a brush of the activation stone, the blade ignited against the air, bathing his face a deep crimson. It bore a deadly purpose; one these guards were about to find out.

One swung at him, with a confident form, clearly the most practiced of the bunch. But our figure avoided it with a twist of his feet, and savagely sliced with his perfectly balanced blade. No resistance was felt as it glided through the guards shimmering armor, right across his chest. In a breath the poor man was split in two.

The guards shouted in panic as the man’s blood sprayed across the cobblestone. The armor was supposed to stop anything physical in it’s tracks. Anything that was, but a pheonix blade.

Without any effort, our perpetrator circling around the others like a hunter on the prowl. They tried to defend themselves with their weapons, but fell just as easily as the first. Even as their blades met it didn’t matter, his severed theirs right in two.

They’d been slow, not enough training or gear, hardly a challenge to one such as he. Without a word he stowed his blade, the sickening plop of their corpses against the ground the sign of a job well done. He kept his armor on as his powerful legs sprung to life, sprinting him across the trainyard in a blur.

His journey was brought to end, drawn to the screeches of the gryphons up ahead. Clearly stealth wasn’t on the list of priorities. He peered up from the emptied streets to see their target towering high over the surrounding buildings, a windmill of staggering size.

The dwarves called it an extractor and was only enhanced with human ingenuity. Each blade was coated in a shimmering metal that left a misty cloud in it’s wake with every gentle rotation. It set any who stared upon it with a sense of unease, drove shivers down the spine, even cats would stop to hiss at it.

The figure passed the mutilated remains of a few more guards, crammed into the tiny quarters of their watch posts. The poor souls hadn’t a chance to even activate their armor. He had to admit, these gryphons knew what they were doing. Perhaps this job would be easy money after all.

They gathered into a shadow drenched alcove, pressing tight against the wall. They were but tiny horses before a giant like door, all being touched upon by the dwarf they brought with them. The tree were spaced around him, eyes tracing every shadow, muscles ready to spring. The one called Eris had her ear to the door, tapping it gently with a claw.

 “Found the right spot Adan?”

The leader gryphon puffed up his chest as the figure approached, narrowing his eyes. Feathers fluffed up as he chuckled deep in his throat. “Oh, look who it is. Richard finally decided to keep up. Here I thought you were going to get lost.”

“You left me.” Richard said cooly, “We’re lucky the whole building doesn’t know we’re here. You could use a lesson in stealth.”

The gryphon pulled back, ears twitching “We got everything covered baby, no need to worry. Speaking of which.” He turned to the dwarf sitting by his forepaws, one hand on the wooden gate, the other tapping in time Eris. “Adan, do you got everything all set?”

“Yea, yea Bathor.” The stout dwarf chuckled, adjusting his oversized nose. “Trying to find a best way to use the codes, they be more like a guideline.” The dwarf ran his calloused hands through the thick brown beard threatening to eat his face. “So, hold yer feathers and answer me this, why did ya bring a traitor to the squad?”

Just like that, worried eyes snapped to Richard, staring him up and down. Each of them sensed, ears were splayed, all save Bathor who seemed to know the entire time.

“Wait…” Eris perked up in alarm. “Richard worked for the Odins? Do we need to worry about him?” Her tail feathers fluffed as she gave him an evil eye, “I won’t go out with a fight!”

“I think you’re all looking for the term mercenary.” Richard growled, none to worried as he strolled forward. Worse came to worse he’d have to fight them as well.

Adan’s laugh shook his gambeson clad belly. “That a new word for traitor? Let me be takin a guess you’re some disgruntled employee with a massive hate boner for his former bosses?”

“Are you sure?” Eris’s tilted her head, “I thought Delora said he was by the numbers.”

“I am.” Richard growled. “Or else we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d all be dead and I’d be returning to my superiors.”

Bathor was on him like a cobra, easily shoving him to the wall. “Keep sayin stuff like that and we’ll just be leavin you here!”

Silence lingered in the air, Richard grabbed the gryphon’s mettalic claw. In a single motion he shoved the gryphon off him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You didn’t have to be like that.” Eris winced as Bathor stepped away, “And how would we know? You hardly spoke on the train.”

Bathor puffed up his chest. “Wanna know yall? Look into those eyes of his. See how they glow like smoldering fire in the dim light? Look right into those irises, theres a flicker of white curling around them right? Like it never sits still for even a moment? What you see before you is the arcanum running through his blood. Soaked and slithering through his veins thanks to the phoenix program.”

“They expose the phoenix members to that shit?” A brown and white gryphon gasped, the metal helm strapped to head nearly slipping off. “When it’s raw that stuff is poison! How in the holy heck did you survive?”

Richard held his head with a sigh. Times of his training were but fleeting things, never a clear image in sight. All he could remember was the pain that coursed through him, and the countless time he was screaming. “I just did.” He composed himself. “Most don’t. That’s what makes us so dangerous. Those that survive are stronger, faster, more durable-”

“Complete with an arrogance and ego wrapped around their hearts.” Bathos chuckled, flicking his lion like tail. “But don’t worry about him gang. I trust Delora when it comes to this sorta thang. She said he was alright, though just in case she’s wrong.” His blackened beak snapped right to him, inches from his nose. His eyes had no room for error, a storm of silver electricity. “If you try to hurt me or my friends, nothing on this earth will stop the righteous wrath of Bathor.”

Richard rubbed his nose, not letting the gryphon’s bluster get beneath his skin. He’d seen hot shots like this before, trying to gain control of a newcomer. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you paid for. I don’t make it a habit of betraying those paying me.”

“And yet here you are, sticking it right to Drakor’s backside.”

“That’s…” He scowled at the gryphon’s growing smirk. “Different. Lets just leave it at I don’t care what you’re doing. Making it difficult for Drakor is just a bonus.”

“Well isn’t that good to here.” Bathor chirped happily, ears bouncing. Without skipping a beat he snapped to the still working dwarf, wondering what was taking ever so long. “We do have a mission to complete you know.”

“Then let me work ya blasted bird! The arcanum code is taking longer to manipulate!” His fingers tapped and flowed around the steelwork, his bronze gauntlet inlaid with magical stones shimmering in the light.

“Right.” The gryphon spun back around, returning his job of glaring at Richard up and down. “Just so we’re clear up ahead, don’t fuck up and we’ll be tight.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” He scanned the roof tops above, looking for any sign of trouble. If not for what they’d done, the silence might have tricked him into thinking it was just another night. Up and down he peered at his arcanum powered gear. No damage to the stones, their cloud like interior swirling like a captured storm. One job his friend Delora had said. Just a simple job to help her friends, with how Bathor was still giving him the stink eye, he should have asked for more coin.

“Aha got it! Take that ya Odin bastards!” Adan cheered, smacking the door with his fist sized hammer.

Like purple waves, the arcanum magic crawled along the door’s surface. Everything was cast away before it’s lavender pulse. With a shake of the wood and a resounding crack, it opened for them without a second thought.

The room beyond was lit with stone powered lanterns hung about the metallic ceiling, bringing life to the rows upon rows of wooden crates. Some were glowing through the cracks, practically hissing in the air. These were plastered with sigils in the shape of Odin’s powerful hammer. Raw arcanum to be ferried away to the numerous factories, twisted and forged into whatever weapon or magic the dwarven smith’s deemed worthy. As the doors settled into place a cold wind swept through them, ruffling feather and cloak alike.

Bathor strolled in like he owned the place, scowling with every step of his hinds. “Behold the vile riches of our dwarven overlords.” “Plundered from the air we breathe and used to take life in all their countless wars! They always are running, day in and day out. Every time you eat, sleep, even when you fly about they are sucking the weave dry! We keep letting them go and all of magic across the globe will go with it!” He flared his wings, eyes brimming with his inner fire. “Mark my words brothers and sisters. Tonight is where we light the spark and bring about a most righteous justice!”

The squad of gryphon and dwarf all broke out into a hearty cheer, pumping fist and wing alike. Though they grinned like successful thieves, it all fell upon Ricahrd’s callous ears.

“You’re all crazy if you think this is about justice.” He strolled in, drawing each of their narrowed gazes. He shrugged it off, nose wrinkling at the smell of metal in the air. How many years had he been to places just like this?

“Figures you rain on everyone’s parade. They called you cloud.” Bathor sneered, gesturing to the others to follow in. “Don’t let him get to you yall. Though I’m starting to wonder if the loyal bird of the Odins can even bite the hand that held his leash.”

“Excuse me?” Richard turned, finding an onyx beak inches from his nose, huffing in anger. “I’m here aren’t I?”

“I know why you’re here, but I want to see.” The gryphon circled around him, battering his side with his tail. “Can the once loyal dog bite his master? Bet you saw lots of these places. How do we get to the heart of it?”

He tilted his head, why would they want that? Were they not here to steal tons of the cargo? To the right buyer on the black market, the raw arcanum would be worth thousands of coin. “You mean the core?”

“Heart, core, center, whatever.” The gryphon’s talons kneaded across a wooden crate, earning his wicked grin. “So the team going in is going to be me, Eris and glowie here. Rest of yall be stayin topside to guard our retreat.”

The warrior’s arms crossed, “And why exactly? Are you dense? The coin is up here.”

“That it may be.” Bathor smirked, flicking his ears.

“You’re not stealing things are you.” He sighed, watching the easy job go out the window. What had Delora gotten him into?

 “We’re going to blow this mother fucker up.”

“Wait..wait wait. So, your plan this entire time was to destroy this place?”

Bathor just nodded, commanding the others into their positions. Protesus and Adan simply hid among the cargo, watching eagerly with their weapons. “You slow or something? Delora wasn’t exactly too forecoming bout the mental state yall have.”

“But this entire stockload is worth tens of thousands! You’d have to be mad to give it up!” Was this gryphon insane?

“I think it’s going to look much better as a crator!” The gryphon turned with a flick of his tail, taking a long drawn out drag of the night air. “Victory is going to taste so sweet. Problem with that glowie?

“No.” He sighed, strolling to the gryphon’s side. “Just stupid. Mark my words, Odin’s won’t let this go un answered. Stealing is one thing, but destroying an extractor? They’ll hold a grudge. Its what dwarves are known for.”

“He’s right ya know!” Adan burst out laughing, smacking the brown gryphon Proetus on the side.

None could escape Bathor’s hardened scowl, one that left no room for questions. “That a problem for you glowie? You’re in the same boat as we.”

He scoffed, “I can handle myself if they come knocking. Why not hand over what explosive you got? I can do everything here myself. No reason to have it be messed up.”

“Oh you think that’s how it’s going down?” Bathor mockingly chuckled, placing his mettaic claw on Richard’s shoulder. “Think I’d let a former Drakor puppy dog wander by his lonesome?” You might be Deloras bestie but you haven’t won my heart yet boy. I and Eris am going with you to make sure things get done. Just think of me like your spirit animal, guiding you with words of wisdom during your journey.” He pulled back, giving the warrior a smirk. “Go on, don’t be shy, ask me what you should do.”

He groaned and turned away. He should have asked for more coin. “Oh spirit animal what should I do?”

“Don’t fuck up!” The gryphon chirped happily, letting Richard lead them to an elevator where the crates and boxes could be moved.

The elevator’s doors opened with a metallic clunk, letting the trio pack into the small space provided. It may have been used for a few constructs at a time, but clearly was not made for gryphons. Even with only two Richard found himself trapped between them, feathers and fur pressed to the walls. He could hardly even reach up to activate the rune so they could descend. Though lucky for them they did have to struggle, it allowed Adan to come running over on his stout legs.

He carried a pouch the size of his head, waving it like a man possessed. “Yee be forgettin the bomb ya dolt. How ya expect ta be doing thor’s work?” With a heafty throw the satchel sailed through the air, caught by Bathor and gently squeezed by the closing doors.

“Lucky us huh?” Eris chuckled with splayed ears, feathers and skin rubbing as she squirmed. “That would have been awkward.”

Richard almost pressed his palm to his face. These were the people he was working with, it was a lucky they’d made it thus far. “Yes awkward is certainly a word for it.”

She chuckled with a chirp, flicking her white spotted ears. “So…ever been this close to a gryphon?” Her brow rose as the elevator started to creak and groan with their descent.

“Yes.” He said flatly. “There are gryphons in the Drokar military. Scouts and stuff.”

“Oh yea! Just like Proetus. You should ask him some time, trade stories!”

“One-time gig.” He rolled his eyes, like hell he was going to be caught with this misfits.

Silence fell when a resounding clank shook the car. What bluster had drained from Bathor’s face, only replaced with widened eyes and pinned ears to the back of his head. “Yo glowie, think this thing can hold us?”

“Should have thought of that before all piling in, shouldn’t you? I did say to let me go alone.”

“You never mentioned this.” The gryphon winced as metal screeched like a banshee from all round.

“What kind of gryphons?” Eris’ voice bounced through the air, unafraid and cheerful. “Military ones or the friendly ones?”

He stared at the darkened grey feathers lined with teal, the jewelry dangling from her foreclaws to the pierced ear she had. If she was military she wasn’t one he’d ever seen. “Which one are you?”

“Can it be a little of both?” She warbled, “Some days you just feel like being rebellious.”

Gear upon gear scraped through the car as it shook and quivered every inch. There was silence from the pair of gryphons as the time stretched on. The moment before the plunge some might say, and while the gryphon’s hearts might have been all aflutter, Richard’s was as cool as steel.

“So…anyone figure why the walls and corridors were big enough for gryphons?” Bathor grumbled, breaking the silence around them.

“I know right?” Eris chirped, “You hardly any see our kind around these things. Gives me the creeps something awful. How about you Richard? What does this place do to humans?”

“Nothing.” He avoided her curious eyes. Her kind had always itched his skin. “The reason the halls are so wide is for the constructs inside. They use them for lifting and maintenance and other things.”

“Constructs?” Bathor stuttered, ears spinning to his head. “We didn’t say nothing about constructs.”

“Why are you even scared? They’re probably the menial labor kind. Gryphon’s strength can literally rip them limb from limb.”

“Why am I scared?” Bathor’s chirp was almost cracking, “I’ve seen those freaks do terrible things! Whole squads wiped out from the combat models. Plus, I think they can literally sense fear.”

Dumbstruck he merely bore witness to the dozen or so reasons that Bathor was listing with eaching passing clunk. His arms crossed, “Didn’t you do recon at all?”

“We did.” The gryphon hissed, “We didn’t see nothing about FUCKING CONSTRUCTS! Besides, I thought with all the arcanum around, it’d mess with their gears or something.” The proud gryphon looked away, smacking the elevator with his tail. “By the gods is this thing slow.”

“Well duh.” Eris chuckled, running her digits carefully through her teal scarf. “It’s so we can get to know each other better. Little chit and chat, why would they have them otherwise?”

His brow rose, was she serious? It was hard to tell with that mischief flickering in and out of her eye. “To move cargo.”

She rolled her eyes with a huff. “Well in addition to that. I’m not stupid.”

“What are you doing?”

“She’s doing small talk you bastard, shit.” Bathor squawked, think it would be better if we just waited in awkward silence?”

“We were doing it before…”

“Well answer me this, how come your fancy sword was able to cut down those guards armor like it was nothing?”

“You saw that? Thought you were supposed to be leading the assault?”

The gryphon didn’t look back at him. “I might have observed you in action. Never seen one do that, not even mine can do that.” He gestured to his metallic claw, and all the exposed gears that made it up. Along the base rested two orbs of glowing arcanum, one of the darkest red and the other a radiant blue.

“I doubt you have an arcanum blade.” He rolled his eyes, “Their weapons don’t work for gryphons.”

“Oh yea tough guy?” Bathor pushed and shoved, making enough room as he sat upon his hinds. Up went his claw, he brushed over a rune on the side. In a series of clacks and hisses the metal limb came to life, retracting his four taloned claw. Outward it pushed like a silvery flower, a luminescent ghostly white blade sprouting upwards like a malevolent tower. “See?” He chirped with pride. “Not so smug now are ya? One arcanum blade!”

“Impressive.” He crossed his arms. “Don’t know how you managed it. Usually those sorts of things explode when touched by anyone but a human or a dwarf.”

“Adan is quite the miracle worker.” He sheathed the blade with a pop. “Managed to fool the blasted magi-tech into knowing a new master. So now that I told you about mine, what gives of yours?”

“Mines a phoenix blade. Specially made to carve through any arcanum weapon or armor. Call the higher ups paranoid, but they wanted a weapon to be used against traitors.”

“Lucky us that you be wielding it then. Might be fighting to see who can carve them or blast them down faster!” Bathor grinned, brandishing the arm. “Hope you don’t mind playing catch up!”

“And I’ll watch you two sweat out, and make sure your rears are covered.” Eris hummed, “Ever seen what a gryphon powered sling does to a human head? Even with an arcanum helm…Concussion at the best…”

“I can handle myself. I’d be more worried about righteousness justice here. He’s the one with dreams and ideals.”

“Oh yea? What’s wrong with that? Better than sittin back and doing nothing!”

“Long as it doesn’t get me killed.” Ricahard shrugged, “But keep your head on the next five minutes, our guests are probably not going to be happy to see us.”

“Well no kidding!” Bathor smirked, “With a face as ugly as yours I’m surprised they’re not running already!”

With a resounding clunk the elevator finally settled. Doors flung open with a heavy hiss, revealing a lengthy corridor being patrolled by a pawful of guards. They never stood a chance as the trio of intruders sprung into action, muscles itching for action. In a matter of moments the opposition was bested. By the time they’d even tried to lift their weapons, they were met by either a gryphon’s forecful slam, or the deadly precision of an arcanum blade.

This routine became the norm as they scampered and sprinted on Richard’s direction. The pathways of iron and rusted steel almost like second nature to him. He’d have questioned it if he wasn’t constantly being assailed with constant yells to stop. Only one time they startled guards even got close to sounding the alarm. One had decided to sprint, his heavy foot falls clanging across the metal floor. Though this didn’t even save him.

Richard raced around the corner like a cheetah, his hand already flying to his arcanum clad wrist. Instead of armor that sprung, instead lightning crackled and sparked around his finger tips. Power surged with his every breath, lining up the shot with his fingers. With a thought the bolt was loosed, angrily sailing towards it’s target. Without mercy it struck, billowing like electric rivers across his writhing frame. The guard collapsed gasping and squirming his shallow breaths. Richard merely advanced with a cold look, putting the man out of his misery with a flick of his blade.

Down through the maze of tunnels and steel they found themselves, serenaded by the ever present banging of liquid through the pipes overhead. They knew they were drawing close, the air was filling with a ghostly mist, and filled with an ungodly heat. By the time they came to an opening, sweat was steadily running down Richard’s head like rivers.

“Woah.” Bathor stalled, his eyes ever widening in time with Eris’ own.

The room before them opened to a gargantuan space dotted with catwalks of hardened steel. Long shadows caressed the walkways and stairs, guided by arcanum lantern’s steady glares. Far below there dwell a shimmering and churning liquid of the brightest snow. From it’s surface came the mist, crawling and dragging itself along. The pipes overhead all gathered and raced to a singular point, a metal pillar filtering out the rivers of steel’s unprocessed bounty.

“Is..that the arcanum?” Bathor’s beak trembled as he stared, watching the spectral shapes below. The longer you stared the more he could see, even making out solitary hands and claws digging through the mist. “Freaky if you look at it.”

“Then don’t look at it.” Richard growled, already making his way down the first set of stairs. Lucky they didn’t creak, not even the slightest speck of rust to be found.

“Well…” Eris’ ears splayed as she hugged the railing, pulling out a sling from her pack, “Good luck boys. I’ll keep ya covered from here!”

“Not coming?” Bathor chirped, “Wheres all that fearlessness you show?”

“Me? Fearless?” She waved him off. “Not when staring at that arcanum stuff. No way, good luck with your new boyfriend there.”

Bathor’s feathers fluffed as he huffed, jabbing a wing towards the human. “He’s NOT my boyfriend.”

“Could have fooled me.” Her eyes rolled, “With how you bicker. Now run along and plan the bomb. Sooner this place is gone the better.” She shivered, staring far below. “And to think they exposed him to it.”

Together the gryphon and human strolled, ever watchful of their step. Once or twice they nearly slipped, moisture from the air leaving a parting gift. Their silence was only met with the constant humming from the pipes, broken apart by a gentle knocking. Almost as if someone were trapped inside. Richard ignored them completely, eyes focused on the solitary point, dragging Bathor along when he froze. “Come on.”

“But there was knocking! You heard it too!”

“I didn’t.” He growled. “Thought we were blowing this place up?”

Bathor composed himself with a gentle squawk, flicking his tail feathers up and down. “Right you are. Damn place giving me the shivers. No wonder if made something creepy as you. Hate to see what it’d to to a gryphon!”

He rolled his eyes, “Probably kill you. Why not fly us down?”

“Bet theres plenty of traps just waiting to take advantage of a defenseless gryphon like that. No, we’ll walk long as it’s safe. Getting tired already?”

“No, just like efficiency. Not used to that are you?”

The gryphon clicked back, “Kind of a dick aren’t ya?Hey! That’s why your called that right?”

“No.” He groaned, closing the distance between them and the pillar. “Where do you want the bomb?”

The contraption at the center was covered in gears and knobs, markers for tanks and pressure on nearly every glass covered panel. At it’s center was a solitary metal wheel, polished and waiting to be turned. The humming hear was almost deafening, the heat like that of an oven. Hair and fur stood on edge as they stared, the knocking only growing in intensity. One might say it might even be alive, but that was ridiculous right?

With a nod from his cranky overseer Richard crouched near the valve, brushing aside the rust. Typical Odin, if something wasn’t used, it was left to rot. “I suppose this is where the bomb goes?” He pulled from his back the blackened box, eying the mischievous glowing arcanum stones that lined such a common looking box. No answer.

Bathor was had frozen, eyes locked onto a twisting ghostly hand from the arcanum’s surface. With every drool of white he shivered. “Up close it’s even worse. What you think besides magic is caught up in there?”

“What else? It’s just magic gryphon. Calm your nerves and get over here before you fall in.” He padded the bomb, ‘Its quite deadly.”

“Typical callous nature from the Drakor Traitor.” Bathor composed himself with a squawk, striding across the catwalk with a swish in his haunches. “Fail to appreciate the horror on display. Maybe one day magic will only be a whisper, a story of the long ago. Folks now adays not even born knowing it. You got to leave and head elsewhere for that! Eventually everywhere will be like that.

“And I’ll be long dead. What do I care?” He crouched low, fastening the contraption to the side of the control panel. If this explosion was to be big enough, he supposed it didn’t matter. Just as he was about to click in the last strap a sudden pain coursed through his skull. It was like the sun had birthed within his veins, flooding outward to every inch. He collapsed in a throat tight scream as a ringing burst about his ears.

“Richard…” A voice whispered deep in his thoughts, flashing him images of blood encrusted lips. “It’s not just an extractor. There’s some…sort of experiment… You need to stop him. He’ll kill everyone.”

Who what where? Richard’s mind was spirally out of his grasp. He tried to speak, shout, anything to voice his absolute anguish deep inside. He was awoken by a heavy slap to the face from a certain green feathered gryphon.

“Wake up Rich.” Bathor battered him again when he didn’t give an answer. “Don’t be dyin on me now! You still havn’t planted the bomb!”

“Whuh…” He rose, holding his head. The room was still spinning, a faint ringing still lingering in his ear. He pushed away the curious beak that descended on him. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, people just don’t collapse for no reason!” The gryphon snapped to the arcanum liquid below, ears pinning. “Is it that creepy stuff? Don’t tell me it’s poisonous to breathe in. Oh I just knew it.”

“Its not poison.” He groaned.

“Oh good.” The gryphon chirped, holding up his wings with a steeled look. “Then prove to me you’re fine. How many wings am I holding up?”

“Two.” He stared to the steel catwalk below, trying to remember the words. Something about this not being just an extractor. “Did you say something at all? About this being more than an extractor?”

“Like a voice?” The gryphon pulled back his head, raising his brow. “Cause I didn’t say nothing. You hearing voices on me?”

Hesitantly he nodded, pushing himself up with a groan as every limb resisted.

“Well, spit it out glowie, what did this voice of yours say? I’m starting to think just bein in this room is bad for our health. Best we plant the bombs and bounce like…what do humans call them, titties? Could be ghosts down there for all we know.”

Was it someone he knew? Why was blood the first thing that came to him? It only made his head ache even more, like someone was pressing intently at his temple. He told him word for word what he’d heard.

The gryphon only laughed in jest, “More than an extractor? Now you be talkin crazy.” His claw rubbed at his beak, staring the recovering human up and down. “Like I don’t trust you with the bomb crazy. Do I need to do everything myself?”

“No. I got it. Just fumes probably.” He pushed the words to the back of his mind, taking his place back at the bomb. This time he had an onyx beak hovering over his shoulder like a mother hen. Those yellow eyes following along with every movement or touch he made.

“Well at least everything is looking up for us. You didn’t fuck up, the bomb is to be set.” He retreated with a solidary nod, a grin about his beak. “I’d say that’s a job well-“

From above a disembodied voice rang through the halls, bouncing off every metallic beam. “Intruders are in the facility. Four bodies found near the train yard. Warning to all personal, report to your supervisor to receive further instruction. This is not a drill, activate all construct defenses. Including defense plan theta seven, I repeat…”

Bathor was close to bursting, grinding his metal limb as he fumed and sputtered in pure frustration. He finally slipped over, his eyes on fire. “Do my ears deceive me? Did you fuck up? WHAT DID I SAY?”

“With your squawking and attacking its no wonder it took this long!” He shrugged, trying to keep his fingers on the task. Though even he could practically feel the heat square on his back.

“What just happened?” Eris called to them, her voice filled with concern. “Do we need to get out of here?”

“Glowie here fucked up!”

Silencing them was a mettalic squeal that shook the catwalk. Gears grounded against one another in such a shriek that it pierced the ear. The ground beneath them shuttered as a gleaming being of metal crawled it’s way towards them. It had six articulated limbs covered in plates of thick iron, painted with scuffed symbols of dwarven runes. All along it’s eagle and lion like appearance were glowing ovals of crimson light. They were flashing angrily as the metal mockery of gryphon kind righted itself to full height, easily towering over the pair. The catwalk beneath whine in protest, practically swearing to break beneath it’s bulk.

It parted it’s metal beak, unleashing an unholy shriek that would have sent any man running. It’s rear opened and extended a thin wire like contraption, ending in the hilt of an arcanum blade. Light that sprung from it’s cruel opening was of a ghostly red, waving it above the metal winged contraption like a waiting sword. Where it’s eyes should have been was a blackened plate, where three crimson orbs sprung into existence. From it came a monotone voice, like it was reading blankly from a page. “Intruders detected, activating deletion protocol seven. Prepare to be slain flesh creatures.”

“Like hell I’m ready to be deleted!” Bathor reared to his hinds, loosing several fireballs from his arcanum powered limb, covering the metal being with plumes of scorching heat. As the construct pressed forward the gryphon bounded away, ears pinned to his head. “What the fuck is that Richard? I thought you said only construction constructs! THAT DOESN’T LOOK VERY CONSTRUCTIVE!”

The warrior activated his blade and eyed the thing down, waiting for it to make the first move. While patterns and the like were common in such things, he had no idea where to begin. “Demolition is part of the construction process!”

Without hesitation the metal gryphon barreled towards them as its feathers quivering like angry snakes. The air around it’s limbs hummed with magical power. Those that faced a monster of such size might have been frightened or lost their nerve, but Richard held his ground. Only tighter did he grip his blade as he charged to meet it.

It slashed out with sharpened talons, easily able to rend flesh and steel alike.

Richard slid under the strike, the points narrowly avoiding his head. He caught one of the creature’s hinds with a flowing slice, severing the thing clean off. It’s clang upon the ground marked him dashing away, deflecting the arcanum blade tail that came snapping in his direction. Evidently they had powered this thing’s tail with phoenix blade quality light.

“Great slice, now just seven more limbs to go!” With distance between them Bathor reared up, roaring an angry squawk to taunt their emotionless foe. Fireballs came in a near constant stream, practically a blur as the blackened smoke they left coiled and shot overhead. “Take that you freeky bastard!”

Explosions and flashes of brilliant light shook the catwalk, blinding everyone with smoke when it came flying out. Steel melted and buckled under such the assault, but the creature had plenty to spare. It’s head cocked to Richard, hardly considering what damage it was taking of any consequence. The trio of eyes locked onto his sword. “Pheonix blade detected. Subject is most likely a pheonix project soldier. Adapting to engagement protocols.” The metal bird’s wings flared out, beams of crimson spilling forth to cut angry lines through the air.

Why this sort of defense?” He ducked and weaved through the maze of brilliant lights, a wrong move would mean the end of his life. Though arcanum armor was great versus the phsyical it hardly influenced the magical. With his trained muscles and bounced and flipped, landing safely away. But it had gotten what it wanted, him a distance away.

“Activating magnetic sequence.”

Wait what? His blade was pulled from his side as the metal beast’s metal hide suddenly sparked and crackled with electrical might. His reflexes were quick but not fast enough to stop it flying through the air and attaching itself to his foe with a metallic clang.

“Blade neutralized.” The construct almost seemed pleased as it’s head snapped back to Bathor to get a trio of firebolts to the face. “Secondary target acquired.”

“Looks like I pissed it off! Don’t like getting a few loads to the face shiny?” Bathor chirped without care, flaring his wings and letting his clawed limb reform into his blade. “Come bring it on then, I’ll slice you to pieces!”

Below them the catwalk shook and cried out in anguish as the two beings charged towards one another. Instantly they were lashing out and avoiding the other, the gigantic contruct’s movements almost un-naturally fast. Like it was being powered by arcanum at it’s core for speed. Any second now Bathor would undoubtedly be smacked aside, and ended by this thing’s tremendous strength. Not to be out done the creature’s arcanum blade tail lashed and slashed to keep Richard engaged.

It was taking all he could do to simply avoid getting sliced to ribbons. Whoever had enchanted this hunk of metal had done a fine job! He found the culprit, an eye locked onto him from the edge of the viewplate.

“What ya waiting for glowie? An invitation? We need to flippity flap out of here!” The green gryphon shouted, squawking in alarm as metal talons sliced a few inches off his crown feathers. “THOSE WHERE MY FAVORITE FEATHERS DAMNT!”

“Then you need to poke out that eye!” He leaped for his life, wincing as the tip sliced across his side. Any closer and he’d have been cloven in two. “And hurry! It’s learning how I move!”

“Sure, sure, have the gryphon do everything!” Bathor’s muscles sprung him up, his arcanum blade swinging around, “Hey shiny, you’re really pissing me off!” One slice right across the face plate, taking not only a portion of the gryphon’s face, but part of the faceplate with it. “Take that ya-“

With a vengeance the metal beast surged forward, all but forgetting Richard behind it. Powerful talons swatted the flesh and blood gryphon to the ground. In a flash it was upon him, screeching a terrible threat through the hall.

“Well fuck you too!”

He had to act now, the tail no longer found him of interest. Eris was pelting the metal monster with fist sized rocks, but it wasn’t doing a thing. With the way it was bearing down on Bathor, he’d be dead in a matter of seconds. How was he going to get paid?

He brushed his wrist, letting the lightning spring from his orb to his finger tips. Power surged across his limbs, crawled through his spine, and circled around his temple. The air hummed as he charged and took aim, his heart stilled, fingers twitched, and the bolt shot towards his target.

Lightning crashed and spilled over every inch of the metal beast, it collapsed to it’s side a spasming wreck. Screeches sounded as gears heated and melted, painful expressions of a dying monster. It clawed uselessly at the catwalk, drawing lines that would have ended any man beneath them. Again and again it whined, smoke even shooting from it’s joints.

“Critical electrical damage…Starting repair protocol.”

“Get clear!” He sprinted across the deck, as Bathor did as he said. In a single motion his blade was retrieved and ignited, coating his face in red as he eyed his pathetic victim below. Without a thought he sliced it through the neck, severed it’s torso, made sure to dissect this metal contraption like a surgeon. In a matter of moments, they were left with a steaming assortment of bisected limbs and plates.

 “I think it’s dead.” Bathor fluffed his feathers, checking over his blackened fur for wounds.

“Lucky for us.” He composed himself, stowing the blade. “That it didn’t let out a bigger pulse of energy. It might have taken the entire catwalk with us.”

“But it didn’t, and you’re the victors!” Eris waved from overhead. “Should I sing a hearty tune?”

“Not today! We still got stuff to do, this time without constructs messing it up!” The gryphon shoved the metal plates, scowling as smoke curled around his feathers and fur. “Damn’t man. Couldn’t let me help more? Just had to steal the final shot.”

Richard shrugged, returning to the bomb as if there hadn’t even been a distraction. With a mere dust of his clothes he was back crouched. “Just finished it off.”

The gryphon slumped over, hovering over his shoulder. “Figures anyway, I had it right where I wanted it.”

“Sure you did. Without my electricity you’d be dead.”

Out puffed the feathers as if insulted. “And why didn’t you try that trick from the start? Coulda saved my feathers a whole heap of trouble.”

“I wanted to test it. Not all have that magnetic trick you know. Some even have emitters to absorb that kind of attack. Woulda been interesting to see it get stronger from my attack no?” he rose his brow as the gryphon sputtered and fumed without a word.

“How’s this one for size then pheonix boy, did you know it was here?” Down shot his head, resting his firey yellow eye inches from Richard’s own. “What’d I say topside eh?”

“No.” Shrugging off the glare. He got back to work, groaning as the gryphon started instructing him how to do it.

“Find something else to do? I have this.”

“Oh really?” The green feathered avian tilted his head, his tone rising. “Cause what I’ve heard and seen today, I’ll have to respectfully disagree!”

“Seriously.” He tapped the box. “I got this.”

“That is an opinion you’re having. Now don’t forget the timer. If you press the sequence wrong we wont have enough time to-”

Up at the top ghostly letters appeared, revealing they had only twenty minutes to escape.

“Only twenty!” The gryphon’s head perked back. “I thought you said you had it!”

With a racing heart he fumbled with the runes, “I have this! I can fix it!”

“Stop, just don’t, stop, don’t touch it again-”

He pressed a button and the timer changed. Instead of twenty minutes they only had ten.

You could almost see the steam flowing from Bathor’s ears as he swore loud as he could. “WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY?”

“Ok…I admit…” Richard winced. “I might have fucked up.”

“You think?” With a wing pulled him along, practically sprinting across the deck.

“What’s up?” Eris squawked in alarm.

“What’s it sound like? Glowie fucked up!”

* * * * * * 

Hope you guys liked the first installment of this. Don't be shy to leave comments below, like and favorite if you enjoyed it.