There were three gryphons with rods pointed in his direction, running over toward him. It was hard to see their faces, but he could sense a bit of fear through the optics of their gas masks.

Instinct kicked on, as did a few shattered and incomplete memories of military training. No matter how much harm it could do sometimes in the heat of the moment, the fight–or–flight response did more good than harm when it came to living this far north of the borders of the Gryphon Empire– if there still was an empire left after 900 years.

He pulled out the rifle that was strapped over his shoulders. Though the Gryphons looked slightly bewildered by the shape of your spear, they are nonetheless frightened of it: all three of them dismissed the shape of the rifle as a more comfortable design for human graspers.
The human’s spear training kicked in, surprising all three of the gryphons surrounding him. The gryphons were at severe disadvantage: despite outnumbering him, they were ordered to subdue the human, not hurt him. The gryphons were armed only with quarterstaves.

He swung the bayonet at the center gryphon, leaving a gash in his staff and dazing him with his speed, then swiped at the left one’s leg, grazing it and drawing blood. The human leaped, pushing through the two of them, leaving the right one with his lower beak hanging open. When the human was about 10 feet away, all three of them jumped up at the same time to try to give chase.
As the adrenaline began to rush through his veins, the human didn’t find the cold so uncomfortable any more. The bright morning sun was just beginning to ease his shivering, as did the exertion of his flight toward the outer wall. Caws and screeches followed him, and an arrow flew right past his torso.

The slightest glimpse of the arrowhead confirmed his suspicions. The arrow was designed with a cup to prevent full body penetration, and the tip was coated with some odd purple substance: probably a tranquilizer.

The human sprinted into one of the guard towers and closed the door behind him, barring it with the small plank that was meant just to do so. Turning around, he saw a gryphon stumbling down the wooden staircase and squawking, and not even noticing him. He too, also had nothing but a quarterstaff in his claws. Before the gryphon could even get a good look at the cause of the slamming of the door, the human swung the butt of his rifle, landing it squarely on his forehead. He was out like a light.

At the top of the wall, the human noticed a big change in the structure of same. The walls were much, much thicker; the battlements were twice as wide as he remembered. The oddest thing was a series of metallic cans pointing outward from the wall. He had never known what artillery was. The solid metal tube on wheels, he observed, not really knowing what it was really called, however, was usable for the purpose that he was looking for: getting down and out of the castle. Now all he needed was a piece of rope. There was none in the tower he was in, so he charged across the wall to try to reach the next one.

Several arrows whizzed past his shape as he ducked and jumped to dodge the missiles swishing by his belly. Another gryphon stood at the door to the next tower. He charged him, knocking the gryphon, and several more, as well as himself to the floor. He was the first to get up; he then pointed his bayonet knife at the throat belonging to the first gryphon he saw. Everyone held still. The human looked up; the other gryphons stood very, very still, afraid that if they made any sudden moves, their comrade would be gutted.

He pointed at a coil of rope hanging from a nail in the wall. The gryphon nearest gulped, and slowly clawed it to him. After taking the rope, the human Sparta-kicked him, leaving him sprawling on his comrade as the human bolted from the door.

One slip-knot and rappelling experience later, the human was in the moat-ditch. He suddenly heard a clatter thirty yards to his left. The draw-bridge was dropping.

Author's Note

Bit short? I will be adding emotions to the next part. Lots of angst and fear- and even a little regret.