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Chapter 15

For hours Leon busied himself with practice, after being roped into telling tales of his adventures to Hekate's extended family. Wide eyed and graced with chirps, they listened with rapt interest. He had to admit it warmed his heart to see them so invested in his exploits, an honesty that he was not used to experiencing. Sure, Olas did the same when he told these stories, but to the mercenary he could not help but sense a ghost of play, like he was a toy to exploit.

When he could finally tear himself away from their hands and wings, he found himself out in the field behind the tavern. It was well kept besides the lengthy grass, with numerous batches of flowers in which gryphons could roll around in. There he could keep an eye on the stables, of which gryphons were giving a wide berth. Signs adorned it, with large pictures of gryphons with lines through them, letting all know they would be not welcome. Word of the games lit a fire in his bones, guiding the half-elf to jog about the field, intermixed between stretches, exercises of strength and flexibility. He did this under the eyes of numerous gryphons, some watching from the roof with interest, others kept their distance and mimicked his movements. The gryphets, however, wanted to get their hands on.

The trio of mischief that was them would squawk and run about his legs without care. They'd never stray more than a few feet away, unless they caught sight of a mouse, squirrel, or rabbit. Then primal instinct would tear them away, to squawk and trill as they chased the poor creature until they had it trapped between their beaks. Then the rather proud of themselves gryphets would return, plant their haunches down and offer the tribute to Leon. He put an end to this by occasionally throwing a stick far as he could, the trio fighting over the right to snatch it and return it to the half-elf, where he'd repeat the process. He wished they'd run off to sharpen their claws on posts of wood that were spread about the field, but he was the more appealing generator of fun.

Krantor had been free to strut around, stretch his wings and perform leaps and mock strikes of his own. He filled the air with pleasing notes of his songs, ones he'd recited numerous times for his love. Hand to his feathery chest he let forth his soul into these, rolling the mercenaries eye on how enraptured he was. When he was not performing, he was whittling, carving away at a branch with his talons and beak. His tail thumped away as he worked, flashing Leon's winks when he would catch a glance. “Worried you're going to lose?" The gryphon would chuckle, displaying his work taking shape.

Leon would scoff and return to his own devices. He'd dragged one of the unused scratching posts into position three dozen meters away or so, drawing a target upon it's claw marked surface with a piece of chalk. He unhooked his energy crossbow and let it's hum sing to his ears, taking several shots of blue, crackling energy. Though the wood lit up like lightning in a storm, it did not splinter or explode like it would if the device was set to kill. He was thankful for this as the little ones, screeching in their play, made one of his shots go wide when they raced though his legs without a thought.

A bolt struck a passing gryphon, going for a light trot around the field. The lavender catbird only managed a surprised squawk as his fur rippled with blue energy. With an exasperated groan the gryphon collapsed into the tall grass.

“Watch it!" Leon shouted, his cheeks flushing. He wheeled about, gnashing his teeth as the little ones screeched and scrambled for cover.

They found Krantor and Hekate close by to use as a shield, pressing together and attempting to hide behind the gryphons bodies. The gryphoness had her feathers fluffed, ears pinned as she stewed on something that made her eyes glisten with frustration. She lashed her tail as the gryphets whimpered behind them.

“You gotsta save us Hekate!" Squawked one of the little ones, a lavender female with vanilla circles around her eyes to give the appearance she was wearing glasses.

“I don't know Basila no one else needed my help today." Groaned Hekate.

“Awww, but he's going to shoot us!" Whined another female, this one vanilla with lavender stripes down her flank, giving the appearance of a great tiger. “You saw the look in his eye, he's crazy!"

“Despina might be onto something." Chuckled Krantor as he carved into a new branch, “We know how crazy Leon is."

“If by crazy you mean putting up with you, then I'm absolutely mad." Leon remarked, shouldering the still humming weapon, “And don't believe a word, they ruined my shot." He grimaced, shifting his attention to the stunned gryphon, whose rear end was high in the air. “Sorry about that…Arrian!" He imagined the usually talkative gryphon would have already been over here, giving him a tongue lashing if not for his predicament. “If it makes you feel better, we won't let any more trouble happen to you." He turned to the little ones, currently propped up, leaning around Krantor as though he were a tree. “And no painting little dicks on his faces."

As the trio gasped, the third of their number placed a paw to his chest, ears splayed, “You think we'd do that again?"

Heis eyes narrowed at the purple gryphon with innocent blue eyes, watching how his vanilla tuft tail tried it's best to conceal his mischief, “You said that the second time as well Damon. Do it again and I'll be stunning you with this baby." He pat the side of the energy crossbow, getting a trio of shrill cries.

“See, see he's crazy!" Damon chirped, tapping Krantor's side, “Quick, tackle and pin him, who knows what he'll do!"

“Then we can tickle him." Basila thrust down a hand, fluffing her wings, “Till he's sorry."

“Wait, we got to be careful." Despina's ears splayed, “We cut him last time."

Basila rolled her eyes, “No we don't silly, we got auntie Hekate to heal him up! Right?"

The gryphoness had not been looking, she was staring at the tavern with utter distain. Her tail flicked as the little ones called to her again. She blinked, “Yea sure, whatever you said."

“See, she said yes!" Basila nudged her sister with a beak parted smile. “So can you tackle him Uncle Krantor, can you please?"

“I'd rather not have my flesh be carved out by a trio of devils." Replied Leon, gesturing to his crossbow, “Don't think I won't stun uncle Krantor either."

“Did you hear that hun, he threatened to stun me!" Krantor chirped, nudging at his wife, only for him to get the same, disinterest reply.

“That's nice dear, play nice."

“He's going to shoot me!"

“What's got her so wrapped up?" Leon searched her from hind to ear, she typically didn't let something get to her, at least not this deeply. “I promise Hekate, I'd not hurt your husband…too bad…after all, you can heal him."

She gave a sigh, rising to all fours to trot a few places. She swept the little ones away with her tail. When she turned to Leon her ears splayed, “Father won't let me help in the kitchen."

“But you're a great cook!" He replied, resting a hand on her furry flank, “I mean, if you weren't you wouldn't be planning to open a tavern of your own."

“Yes, but he doesn't see it that way." She rolled her eyes with a squawk, “Says if he catches me trying to barge into his kitchen again, he'd kill me."

“And I think he was serious." Krantor groaned, rubbing at his head, “I can't believe he hit me with a pot!"

“Your own fault for trying to sniff his soup da la hydra."

“My fault? He made it smell so good!"

“Point is…he said I have city talons." Hekate reared onto her hinds to wiggle her hands digits before Leons eyes.

“I'd be careful in the future Krantor, if Hekate here takes after her father, she'll do more than hit you with a pot when you barge into her kitchen!"

He covered his lower section with a wing, “Don't make me think a about it."

“Still, you think he'd relent a little bit." Hekate flopped to the grass with a huff and thump of her tail, clacking her beak when the little ones adopted three various leaping poses. They shrieked and ran back to hide behind Krantor.

“Well, if cooking is out, you could always practice for the games?" Leon reset his stance, aiming for his target once more. “Unless you're going to lay about, complaining about it all day."

“Wouldn't that be nice." She groaned.

“She was banned from the games, wasn't she?" Krantor rose a brow, “On account of smashing that once gryphon's face, then slapping him in the balls?"

“That gryphon was named Krotos, and by the hells he was asking for it." She snapped, “He was showing off for a group of other gryphons when he slammed into my garden, tossing up dirt, ripping apart all my beautiful plants. Then, get this, he had the nerve to act all confident and try to seduce me!"

“I'm not sure he deserved it hun, he needed a healer after."

“You're siding with him?"

“No, but I don't think I've ever seen a gryphon's face make the faces his did while he was rolling around on the ground holding his sack."

“It's so unfair." Hekate groaned, thumping her tail. “You smack one jerk in the balls, and they don't let you compete."

“It's only for two more years dear."

“Still."

“Why are you not practicing Krantor? Few brief leaps and stretch of the wings all that amounts to your training?" Leon took aim at the target, striking it a tad off center.

“Why would I need to practice?" Laughed Krantor, “Half the people in this town have never left it, and I haven't seen a lick of any adventuring types. We have this in the sack." He dusted off his talons on his chest, “Question why are you practicing?" He levied a mischievous eye to the half-elf as he lined up another shot, “Don't want to embarrass Olas in front of all his friends?"

“Please, I don't give a rats arse if I embarrass that pampered feathery behind of his." He fired off a volley of three shots, each hitting the target dead center. “But I do have a reputation to keep up. Last thing I need is a bunch of farmers to say they bested me at anything." He was thankful for not having to face the onyx gryphon, for his cheeks burned at the thought. Perhaps deep down what Krantor said was true.

“So, what do you think of my handiwork?" The gryphon held out his completed carving, a caricature of Leon with a gigantic head and a nose that could poke someone's eye out. As Leon scowled a beak parted smile was his reward, “Aw, don't take it too hard, I couldn't quite get it accurate enough, not enough branch to recreate the head. What you think hun, do you think I captured his likeness well enough?"

As the male turned to his mate she only offered a ruffle of her feathers and roll of the eye, swiftly readjusting her gaze back towards the inn. “Perfect dear, can hardly tell the difference between the two."

Krantor tossed back his head, chirping with laughter, only intensifying the steeled gaze given to him by Leon.

“Hey little ones." The half-elf said, mischief in his eyes, when the trio of gryphets snapped to him he gestured to the now, rolling on the grass Krantor, “Heard he's got a whole sack of tasty orbs."

“Tasty orbs?" The gryphets perked up at the mention of the gryphon candy, “What flavors?" Three beaks snapped to Krantor.

“All the kinds, think he just took a handful. Wants you to tackle and nibble him for it, can you do that?"

“Can we!"

In a blur the gryphets sprinted to the oblivious, laughing gryphon. His squawk of surprise echoed through the field as three sets of talons and beaks found his feathers and fur. The little ones gave three war squawks of their own, laced with laughter.

“Hey, what's the meaning of this?" Krantor snapped his beak, trying to pluck the rambunctious catbirds off his hide. They however held firm, determination to get their candy fueling their attack, “Help, I'm being attacked!"

“That's nice dearest." Hekate laughed, strutting around the ball of feathers, “Do try to not kill him dears."

“Where are you going?"

“Off to see if mother needs help with the gardening or something, else I'm going to visit the temple of Fuereen here, I'm not just going to sit around." With a lash of her tail, she trot off, leaving her mate to fend for himself.

“This is ridiculous, what do you want?" Demanded the male as his tail and wings were pinned, feathers being nibbled at.

“Candy!" Sang the gryphets, “Candy! We want Evander's every flavor spheres!"

“Do I?" Krantor scratched his beak, “Though I do enjoy Evander's tasty spheres myself, he makes great candy."

“So do we get them?" Basila squawked, flaring her wings as her siblings watched on.

“Who said I had candy for you?"

Leon scoffed as all three catbirds ratted him out as he lined up his next shot.

“Well, I don't have any candy for you." Krantor sighed, met with three exasperated groans. “But I do have something just as good!"

“I doubt that." Damon remarked, his ears splaying and head drooping.

“Magic!" Krantor reached out with a hand, pulling a silver coin out from behind the little catbird's ear. As they gasped, he could only chuckle, “I can pull coins out from anywhere don't you know."

“Another, another!" Cried the little ones, their promised candy seemingly lost upon them.

The half-elf sighed; it would appear as though his companions would be distracted for quite some time. It allowed him to breathe easy, relax, and not be interrupted by their antics. He imagined the wee ones would be enthralled for minutes or hours, depending on how well Krantor was at keeping their interest. By the warmth radiating in the gryphon's blue eyes, he figured it would be quite some time. With a composed sigh Leon readied another shot, landing a trio of perfect shots on his makeshift target. This time he'd used the kill setting, exploding the wooden post in a shower of splinters and a resounding clap.

“Don't think the elder gryphons will like ya destroying their things. Though great shot all the same partner." Came the grizzled, masculine voice of the ceullus worker from before. Taller than Leon by almost two feet, the muscular horse man approached with a warm expression on his muzzle. Amber eyes twinkled in the sunlight, the scent of sweat, hay and hard work filling Leon's next few breaths, it flushed the half-elf's cheeks.

Old thoughts lingered in his brain, whispers of a life he'd rather not remember. He grit his teeth as his blood warmed, imagining the nice, mind blowing experience that would leave him relaxed and without a care in the world. Leon averted his gaze from the handsome specimen of a ceullus, striding over to another forgotten scratching post. “Takes patience and precision friend, and I know them, they'll find more scratching posts."

“Fair enough, that's a fine weapon you have there." Whistled the Ceullus, hoof-fingered hands on his waist, “Does that one kick to the left?"

“Have any experience with energy crossbows?" His brow rose as he began to drag the scratching post through the grass, dropping it next to the exploded corpse of its brother.

“You could certainly say that."

“Is that so? They typically don't let these babies out of the military." He eyed the ceullus from black hooves to perked ears, not spying any bit of malice. It was hard to not linger on a certain part of him, resting between his legs. “Unless you're going to tell me you plucked it off a corpse."

“Course not!" Laughed the ceullus, “Friend of mine in the voiceless mountains allowed me to try his from time to time, what about yourself? You also don't appear to be of the King's army."

He pat the crossbow as he returned to his firing line, “Pays to have connections."

“But if you pulled my tail, swords are my favored weapon. Something more rewarding."

“Suppose but with swords you don't have the range. All I have to do is press the trigger."

The ceullus smirked, “Can't press the trigger if you disable their hand."

With that remark, a hint of seriousness had exuded through. Who exactly was this ceullus smiling at him? Leon searched over his simply trousers, held up with a belt and littered with pouches. He didn't appear to have a weapon, his cheeks burned as he paused, his eyes locked upon the bulge within the ceullus' crotch. He may not have had any weapons of magic or steel, but they always had that as a weapon to strike at the mind. He averted his gaze to the target, hoping the male had not caught him lingering, but the pleased knicker that reached his ear told him otherwise.

“Names Titus, what's yours if you don't mind me asking? Especially if you're going to be staring."

“I wasn't staring." He snapped back to the target, crossbow raised.

“No shame in admitting it." Chuckled the Ceullus, “I've seen the look before, thirstier than a dwarf making their way through the deserts of Rothdell. You were staring like I was your oasis."

Cheeks practically burning, he loosed another shot at his new target, this time the blue energy bolt nearly missing entirely. It struck the outer edge. “Leon. So, what brings you around here to ask questions, typically the stable hands don't get as noisy with me."

“Take it as an interest to talk to the men whose eyes linger. Figure they have a craving or liking for Ceullus." He crossed his arms, “I'm a rarity around these parts, folks get mighty interested. But I'm just passing through."

“Passing through? Strange you're a stable hand."

“It's an easy coin to make, easier than risking your life on your own. That sort of thing requires a group." He gestured to Krantor, still entertaining the little ones.

“So, where you heading?"

“Anywhere really, follow the wind for adventure when it suits me. You could say I'm between groups at the moment."

“You're an adventurer too?" He side eyed Titus, seeing the ceullus had drawn closer, he was almost two arms lengths away. Even there, his scent was inundating every breath, sending shivers down the half-elf's spine. He swallowed down those thoughts, how many years had it been since he experienced this? “Bit stranger to be a stable hand."

“Why is that? Not every bit of life is filled with monster slaying, traveling about, and looting long lost tombs. Besides, I get to hear all sort of rumors about this place." He gave a pleased knicker, “And look what it brought to my hooves."

“So how long have you been doing the adventurer gig?"

“Few years now."

“If you've survived this long, means your good at it, or at least running away."

“I can assure you it's a mixture of both." Smirked the Ceullus as Leon lined up another shot, “How about you, your first team?" He gestured to Krantor, who was spreading his wings and having sparkling dust rain down from his feathers onto the gryphets' heads. “Don't take this the wrong way, but they don't look that skilled."

“Look pal, outward appearances can be deceiving. Sure, they're not the best that have been working with me, but they're loyal and that counts for something." He grit his teeth as he missed the center yet again, “Better than alot of the people out there, looking to use your corpse to raise them up."

“Wow, that got dark Leon." Whistled Titus, “One might think that you see the worst in people."

“Just reality." He grimaced, “I'm always hopeful, it's just the world has taught me better."

“Oh, been there done that. Just don't like to think it's the norm." Titus padded his way to the other side of Leon, transfixed upon his weapon. “Literally stabbed in the back over In Cliaran." He rubbed his back, right above his long tail, “Still itches when it rains despite the cleric's touch."

Titus frowned with a snort, “Doesn't look like much if you pardon me saying so. Though you're quite the specimen." The horseman have a pleased whinny, one that did little to conceal the interest lurking in those eyes.

“Titus, do you have a point to this? Much as I enjoy the company of a handsome Ceullus, I've got to practice for the games. I'm sure you got stable hand things to do." Cheeks burned as the stable hand huffed, a pleased glint in his eye as he realized what Leon said.

“Handsome, am I?" Knickered the ceullus, “I'm rather fond of half-elf's myself; cute ears."

“Look that just slipped out, think nothing of it." He grit his teeth, blood burning as Titus drew ever closer, every breath intoxicating to the senses. With a steeled gaze he brought the ceullus to a halt, “Now, why are you here?"

“Look, you only have three in your number, right? The usual number be four, way I figure it, you're down a set of hands. So, I was thinking." Titus crossed his arms, confidence exuding with every word as he flicked his tail, “Why not have the company of a strong, handsome ceullus? You get a partner and something easy on the eyes." He gave Leon a flare of his nostrils, “And if something else happens, that might be fun too."

“Not really looking for another recruit." He growled, “And you got it all wrong if you think I'd be wanting your cock up my backside, already have a pair of gryphons for that. Move along and take that charming act somewhere else, I'm sure you can find some dainty virgin or someone of weaker will to seduce."

“Did I read that wrong?" Titus cocked his head, “I thought I saw you staring earlier this morning, then now a few moments ok. You looked like you were ready to leap on me."

“Yea, well you were wrong." He set up another shot, “And if you caught me staring, it's because I don't trust new people, especially new people striding over like it's fate that you're going to be humping my backside. So, are we done here Titus, or do I need to start loosing my crossbow at you for you to take a hint?" He scowled, watching the man's reaction as old memories surfaced within his mind, of nights filled with pain, humiliation, and pleased whinnies that would torment his dreams.

“Alright, I get it. I read it wrong, but I was being serious about the helping hand. The whole flirting thing, that was the act." The stable hand sighed, massaging the back of his neck, “I am however serious about joining you, figure a fourth is better with safety and skill. Which, I can disarm traps, pick locks, scout ahead."

“You're a scout?" He scoffed in amusement at the seven- foot horse anthropomorphic horse before him, “You don't…fit the stereotypical look."

“As you said Leon, looks can be deceiving. Give me a chance and I can prove myself worthy of joining your team."

“You're persistent I'll give you that."

“Always have been."

“I say we're not looking, and yet you keep pushing, some might say that's not smart."

“But I doubt you're one of them." Titus grunted as Leon sunk another bolt into his target, “Your demeanor speaks of a man who respects skill, power, and loyalty. I have all of those in spades." He brandished an arm, showing off his muscles with a grin, “So I think once you've seen me in action, you'll be begging for me to join you." He knickered at Krantor, who was now prancing around the gryphets, pulling coins from their ears, “And I am rather fond of gryphons. Much more refreshing than the uptight stiffs back in Cliaran."

“You know, I've never seen someone so desperate to join us." Leon scoffed, “Only thing missing is to get onto your knees and beg, maybe even offer to suck my cock."

“Would that help my chances?" Knickered the Ceullus, “What can I say, I've heard of your group, it has promise, and working with a rather handsome half-elf, one with an all too familiar infatuation in the eye?" Titus snorted with a smirk, “I think that sounds like a good time."

His eyebrow rose, now that was certainly bold. Leon sneered at such confidence, even as his skin flushed, and a voice whispered in the back of his mind to let this stud on their team. “Listen pal, thought the flirting thing was an act? Second, you don't know anything about that glint in my eye. Test it I dare you, see what happens." Growled the Mercenary, “So best turn around now, shut your snout and trot on out of here before you shove another hoof in your snout."

Ceullus ears stitched themselves to Titus' head as the horse man rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Confidence was gone from his words, defeat painted on his face as his apology tumbled out of his mouth. “Listen, it was an act. Figure we were having fun was all on account of your cute knees and cock comment. I just want to be part of your team, alright? Look around you, the rest of this town; it doesn't hold a candle to a true adventurer like you and your own." Titus sighed, locking his gaze with Leon's own, “I've been a lone horse for awhile now, looking for a stable. Just thought I'd take my chances with the best chance I had."

“Alright, I can understand that. Drop the flirting thing in the future, it doesn't suit you."

“Noted." Nodded Titus, “Then what was that inside the inn, I thought?"

There was a pause as the ceullus' words failed to form, his questions now little more than disorganized rambling, Leon lined up another shot to the target, burying down the heat raging within him. The one that made every breath filled with earthy delight, old memories trying to coax him back to pleasures he'd worked so hard to avoid. Ones that left you robbed of your senses, looking for your next fix, nothing, not even your dignity mattered.

“It's not you." Leon finally grunted, “Just a bad past."

Eyes widened as Titus figured what exactly he was referring to. “Knew I recognized it. I'm sorry- “

“I don't need your sympathy, stow it." He sighed, knowing he was going to regret his next words, “But if you're looking to prove yourself, I might think about letting you in the group."

“You would?"

“Yes but lose the flirting shite."

“I'll be sure to even keep a few protection from poison potions around." Knickered the Ceullus, “In case old habits become too much."

So, he did know. Leon scowled before taking aim once more, “Don't worry, they won't." He fired another round, hitting the dead center perfectly.

“So, what sort of demonstration where you thinking?" Titus trotted around, taking a deep breath, arms on his hips, “Skill with the blade, ranged weapons, a display of my speed? Oh, how about my finesse with disabling traps or unlocking doors?" He eyed Leon with a chuckle, “Who knows, if I can unlock this door keeping me out, I might be able to undo anything."

“You'd have to be exceptionally good with keys." A flash of confidence returned to the ceullus, possibly the meekness had been act or was this excitement? Leon grunted and gestured down the field, he knew just how to deal with this man. “How about this, stand a great distance away, you then try to run at me. You manage to lay a hand on myself and you've earned my consideration."

“Just run at you, that's all? Like a game of wolf and doe?"

He padded the energy cross bow, “A bit like that, except I'm going to be trying to stun you with this. Trust me, it will knock you right on your well-toned ass."

“Checking out my arse are we? I thought we weren't supposed to be playing this game?"

His cheeks flushed, again the words had slipped right on out. It took all his willpower to not have his eyes graze over the horseman's crotch as an icy shiver went through him, “Just move your ass to the point."

“More chances to check it out, I get ya." Titus chuckled to himself, flicking his tail back and forth to give Leon a great big look as he did as he requested; perhaps thinking whatever invisible thread he could pull was there. That he could bat his eyes, flirt and seduce his way onto the adventuring team.

Leon shook his head with a groan, remembering how Quintus, his old ceullus flame had him tied around his hoof-like finger. How a perceived kind and caring ceullus had broken him down, reduced him nothing more than a hallowed out shell, a toy looking to get his next hit of his master's cum. He grit his teeth, hating the creature that he had been, taking all that fire and narrowing it down his energy crossbow's sights. He almost felt sorry for the now smiling Ceullus, unaware of what was in store for him.

“That's far enough!" Leon shouted.

“Alright boss, is there going to be a count down or something?" Titus rotated his neck, swishing his tail as he readied himself, “Cause you better get ready Leon, I'm going to be touching you something awful."

“Listen pal, when I do hit you with this, it's still going to hurt like mad. Don't be whining to me."

“Guess that's the incentive to not get hit by your loads!" The ceullus laughed, crouching down, hooves digging into the earth as he set himself into a running stance.

“On your mark, get set…" If the ceullus wanted to get stunned so badly, why should he care? No one was this nice, especially when wanting to join their team. One round of shooting and it would all be done. The moment he shouted go he cracked off a pair of well-trained shots. Each sought the ceullus with cruel purpose, crackling through the air with blue energy.

The horseman would not be felled so easily, springing forth like a loosed arrow. With a slight shift he avoided the mercenary's bite with the finesse of a trained dancer. Hooves slammed into the ground without missing a beat, carrying the seven-foot man forward with terrifying speed. There was no doubt he would be right on top of him within a few moments.

He grit his teeth, suppose this was going to be a challenge. With a surge his reflexes kicked in, firing off another of shots to follow the first.

“You'll have to try harder than that partner!" Titus replied with pride, as he summersaulted to the side avoiding the second volley. In the blink of an eye he'd recovered, tearing up dirt as he catapulted himself straight for Leon.

Eyes widened, counting the steps in slow motion, his heart hardly picking up. This ceullus was skilled that much was certain, slippery as a teal dragon in the water. He would not get another chance, not with this one's speed and agility, he raised his crossbow level with the Ceullus' muscular chest. He was close now, within arm's reach, Titus' own extended, hoof like digits ready to grasp. No more dodging no more tricks, there was no way he could miss. Twin cracks resounded through the air, the summoned bolts hardly having to reach far as they slammed into the ceullus' chest just as his fingers grazed across the weapon's surface.

At the press of a rune, victory had been transformed to defeat. Shock passed across Titus' face for but a split second as he comprehended what had transpired. Muscles froze, bones locked up, the once agile horseman had all his grace denied him. Momentum however still held it's sway, carrying him forward as Leon shifted out of the way. A groan filled the air as the ceullus crashed to the ground.

“There we are, just as I said. How did that feel huh?" Leon chuckled, slinging the weapon over his shoulder, “Bet it stings like a bitch don't it?"

Groans were all he got in return.

“Right, can't speak. But I did warn you. Next time perhaps you'll listen." He crouched beside the larger male, admiring how helpless that he was right now, at his mercy. His gut churned, replaying the scenario in his mind, the skill and speed that had been displayed was noteworthy. He hated to admit it, but deep down he was impressed. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, despising the alluring aroma pouring off this man. “Look Titus, that was impressive. Fact you only have two hooves ever more so, but save that flirting shite alright? Already get enough of that as it is." He poked the man's arm, getting a grunt. “Figure that's a yay?"

Another grunt.

“How about this Titus, come tomorrow, you impress me more, you've got a spot on the team." Would he live to regret that? “And if you're half as good with traps and locks as your speed, I might even skip with the pleasantries and beg you to be on the team." He got a muffled groan, which he took for celebration.

Leon's gaze shifted from the still ceullus, back to the fields and the gryphons still playing within them. “Now I can't leave you this way, gryphs might mess with you honestly, draw dicks on your snout." He chuckled, “Funny as that is, can't very well let that happen to a potential team member." He spied the trio of gryphets that had been responsible for that wake-up call. “Though promise me one thing Titus, lets skip the whole reason why you were stunned? Hekate is pissed enough as it is, I think she might actually kill me. Can you swear the gods that you won't?"

The ceullus' response was a harsh snort.

“Alright, it's settled."

“Unfortunately for you, I'll tell her!" Came Krantor's brassy chirp, head and ears perked. He cast the gryphets off him with a chorus of chirps. Eyes gleamed with satisfaction, pride at having won some imaginary game.

“How the hell did you even hear that?"

“Really?" He pointed to his feathery ears, “You need me to tell you how?"

Leon groaned, as the gryphon gave him a beak parted smile, knowing he had the cards, “Alright you onyx bastard you got me bent over a barrel, congratulations, want a medal?"

“Not really."

“What do you want?"

“To be bribed."

“Obviously asshole." Leon rolled his eyes as the gryphon slipped to him with confidence in every step. “I meant with what."

“Oh, isn't that the question of the hour." Krantor ran his flank along the back of Leon with a radiating chirp, “What can keep my beak closed, to prevent my dearest mate from tearing you a new face?"

“Come now Krantor, spit it out."

“I want candy." He sat upon his haunches, wing wrapping around the mercenary's shoulder and pulling him into a hug.

“You can't be serious."

“Deadly so. Look at them." He gestured to the now sitting before them gryphets with the largest eyes they could muster.

“Please Leon? We want candy." Despina cocked her head, wings tucked.

“Don't ask nicely, we have him by the wings!" Basila squawked, eyes gleaming with mischief.

All the gryphets rose, bouncing on their paws. Around the mercenary they chirped and trilled almost in unison, “By the wings, by the wings!"

He couldn't believe the ridiculousness of it, “I imagine you'll be wanting Evander's every flavor spheres?"

Krantor shrugged, laughing, “You're the one who promised them! Don't be mad they want them!"

Of all the things to keep gryphon beaks quiet, he figured that a few sacks of candy were a small price to pay. Now just came the hard part of telling Hekate to remove the stun from Titus, without her figuring out they'd been rough housing with the energy cross bow. “Be back in a moment Titus, don't move a muscle!"

“Quick everyone, cuddle pile on Titus!" Squawked a Despina, leaving Leon to chuckle as a trio of attack chirps followed suit.

Now where had Hekate gone? He rounded the tavern, searching high and low for that particular collection of vanilla and lavender feathers. All he got was various reports from her family, each having just seen her padding about. After a dozen or so dead ends, he carried himself back to the street, figuring she was out there, gardening as she'd implied. That too turned up empty, the family's garden was overgrown with weeds, a smattering of flowers breaking through; if Hekate caught sight of these, Leon figured she might squawk to the heavens. Still, where had she gone to?

He wheeled about, striding softly to the worn street, where horses and people trotted about. Gryphons of course flew overhead, or perched to watch more interesting things below, others preened their feathers or sang songs to fill the time, not a one was Hekate. He called to them to see if they had caught sight of her, but his inquiries turned up empty. Groaning, the mercenary shook his head as a trio of armored gryphons fluttered down around him, boxing the mercenary between them.

They each were adorned in leathers and chain armor, a turquoise tabard with the symbol of a wing emblazoned on their chest. Clearly this bunch were town guards, with metal helmets gleaming in the sunlight. One among their number was clad in golden plates, heaving at the effort of their flight.

“Leon Silverblade?" Groaned the golden armor wearing gryphon, tucking his earth brown wings.

“Yes?"

“You're under arrest."

The half-elf blinked, “Excuse me?" Had he heard that right? “I've literally arrived this morning, you jerks can't possibly have anything on me."

“No, I have it right." The lead gryphon's chest swelled with pride, amber eyes gleaming, “My orders come straight from the top! Leon Silverblade is to come with us!"

Whispers came from the pair of gryphons that accompanied him; their ears pinned to their heads. One leaned into the leader's ear, “I think we're supposed to invite him, not arrest him."

“Oh." The once sure of himself leader chuckled in the back of his throat, ears stitched to his head as he realized he might have ended his career, “Dreadfully sorry about this Sir Leon."

“I'm not a knight." Leon replied as the leader saluted with a wing, nearly falling over as he tilted forward. The only reason why he did not was because his two gryphons with him caught him. “I figure the reason you're here involves a certain gryphon lord?"

“You are right on the coin my good half-elf. I do believe he tasked us with notifying you of your invitation to Mayor Deri's party…and not about your impending arrest." As Leon's eyes steeled the gryphon stumbled through his words, “Not to say that you will of course, just nervous is all. Please don't tell Olas that we tried to arrest you."

“You tried to arrest him." Corrected a gryphon at his right, “We just stood there looking pretty."

“And I corrected you." Said the other gryphon with a pleased trill, “Do put that in this report."

So Olas wanted him somewhere, to that fancy party no doubt. His blood burned at the idea, of brushing elbows with all those fancy nobles, being presented as some fancy trophy or pet. The mere thought of it was enough to make a fist, clench a jaw, despise every faceless one of them. Olas would be the only one he knew, keeping him there as if on a leash.

“And may I apologize for my mistake." The lead gryphon bowed his head, “And that I deliver the message from Lord Olas, that he would ask of you to come to the mayors party. Which, must I say, you are quite handsome."

He rolled his eyes, “You don't have to kiss my ass, I'm not going to tell Olas about this."

“Kiss your ass?" Laughed the gryphon, “I wouldn't be doing that. I just know you have some pull with the gryphon especially since he invited you."

“Yea, that's what kissing my ass entails." Groaned Leon, holding the bridge of his nose. It only intensified when one of the gryphons procured a well-made box, inside a fancy crimson suit with fluffy sleeves.

“And he requested that you wear this." Said the first gryphon with a beak parted smile, “Rather nice looking if I say so."

“I suppose if you like looking like a ripe tomato."

“But what a tomato you'd be sir." The golden armored gryphon chirped.

Calloused fingers ran over the crimson cloth, admiring how soft and comfortable they might be. He imagined Olas paid no expense, anything to doll up his treasured toy for all his noble friends. With a snarl he slammed shut the box, “And why isn't the lord here right now?"

“You expect him to drop everything to deliver a message? Leon, we are his message. The lord is a busy gryphon, with the other guests, planning for the festival tomorrow, along with whatever else magicians do to pass the time." He paused, head cocking, “You promise to not tell him about the arresting hiccup?"

“No."

“Splendid! Oh, now I know why your Lord Olas' favorite!"

Could he do it? Leon's cheeks burned at being on display. Would he do that for Olas, let the gryphon chirp away, ever pleased, no doubt would reward him with all the ways that he could? Darker thoughts reminded him that this was all that it was, he was a thing to be used and discarded by the regal lord, he was nothing. Leon's heart sank, but he held it by a thread. Remembering Hekate's suggestion, he had to know. There had to be some boundaries, a semblance of control gained.

“Tell Lord Fancy feathers that I'm not going to his fancy get together to be shown off like a bauble. If he wants to see me, he can pick up his stockings and fly over here. “

The lead gryphon's beak dropped, terror in his eyes. “Are you sure sir? To turn down such a prestigious invitation by someone as important as Lord Olas…That would be unheard of…especially from someone of your more…plain status?"

Leon's gaze narrowed, “Then I guess you'll never forget how odd it is. Now run along back to your master, lets see what he squawks about it." He wheeled about, heading towards the inn. He wasn't sure if Hekate was there, but literally anywhere would be better than out here.

“Leon, sorry for that, but Leon!" The commander chased him, sounding like a whole precision band followed in his wake, “Please reconsider, you can't have me go deliver such bad news to the lord. It will be the end of my career!"

“Doesn't sound like that's my problem, is it?" He opened the doors and padded his way inside, leaving the commander to weep uncontrollably.

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

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