A good griffin goes to war, a bad griffin goes to peace. That was a statement that was always drilled into my head. Try as I might though, I preferred to invent and create. I was happy with not being the hero of my own story. Then the mino-griffin war happened. I was told to kill and be like a true soldier, but instead of offing a minotuar general, I tried to talk. When that didn't work, I flew as fast as I could to avoid not just a squadron of minotuars, but a bunch of griffin assassins as well. I am a builder, a talker, a deserter, a funny bird, and a genius. All I can now say is, please help me my name is ink Sword and if you are a minotuar or griffin then taste my ice cold claw cannon.
This story is in the same universe as Recollections of the Rhodes.
I would also like to thank the Lonely Rhode for being an awesome pal as well as an editor.