Griffinstone United

Carolyn had been right; it was evident that, compared to anywhere else, Cobble Claw had suffered the most from the freezing temperatures and brutal weather. Benedict wore a thick coat over his chainmail, his normal cloak over it, as he flew over the city below a light sky.

It wasn't called Cobble Claw for nothing; nearly the whole city was constructed of cobblestone. The streets, buildings, everything. Nearly every building had a fire burning inside, a chimney billowing smoke. A small river of ice ran through the city, bridges covered in a thin sheet of snow running over them. Thin pathways ran along the sides of the river below the actual streets, empty holes in the walls that led to some sort of sewer or tunnel system, but Benedict never planned to go down there. It was filthy, with each one having a couple giant rats scampering in and out.

"Squeamish?" the ex-assassin next to him said, smirking at Benedict's expression once seeing a cannibalistic rat nearly half the size of Irvin eating smaller vermin. While showing her around the uneventful town of Talonton, they'd talked little to each other. She had revealed, however, that she had been a hired gun; nearly everyone in the Red Gear was a mercenary of some sorts, showing the greedy side of griffons. Before being hired by Empress Selena for her infamous skill, she'd been a thief and assassin, murdering even an official for the Red Gear if it meant bits. Of course, the Red Gear would be changing soon. That didn't mean the people would, however.

"No," he muttered, raising a hand over his eyes as they flew to keep out the snow as it bombarded him. This wasn't the worst of it, however; there was a scheduled blizzard after a couple hours. The cream-colored griffon only snickered, picking up her pace. The two weren't friends, but they had definitely evolved from silent enemies. "Say, where are we even heading?"

She seemed to consider whether she wanted to tell him before she did, putting a claw to her beak. "Lil' place that shouldn't be too far, serves the best drinks in the city. Also a great place to pick a fight." Benedict wasn't sure what she meant by that last bit, but she was obviously keeping it a secret, waiting to relish the moment of him finding out. And so they flew silently, side by side, across the vast city of Cobble Claw. Few griffons dared to venture through the incoming blizzard, making them barren of crowds. Street lights with hanging lanterns had been extinguished by the harsh winds, their glass confinements cracked and broken by the wind. Less civilians made more ruffians and bums, however, making a whole new danger of walking through them.

Eventually Carolyn slowed, holding up a hand. "We're here!" she shouted, flying down towards the ground. Benedict followed.

The griffon skid to a halt, talons screeching out at the ice puddle that Carolyn had landed on, sending a mist of ice and snow. Benedict made a more controlled landing, letting his wings slow as he landed on the ground straightly. Immediately, Benedict searched his surroundings. Tall buildings were to either side of him, both of their walls made of cobblestone. Icicles hung from above, glistening.

Carolyn raised a hand towards a wooden door even rougher than Irvin's set into the right wall, steel hinges covered in rust and in dire need of lubricant. There was no sign to advertise the place's contents.

"Back door," she told Benedict before he could question her. She rapped on the door thrice, waiting patiently for it to be creaked open. Eyes poked out from the opening, lighting up at the sight of Carolyn, but then growing suspicious at Benedict.

"Who's the new guy?" the griffon behind said, his voice rough and hoarse.

"A friend," she said, leaning on the wall. "C'mon Ironeyes, let us in." He grumbled a reply as a chain was unhooked and the door opened wider, revealing an older, but much larger, griffon who bore a scar over his beak and grey plumage. Carolyn strolled right on in, but he raised a hand towards her accomplice.

"Hey," he said, stopping Benedict. They met eyes, the black griffon suddenly uncomfortable in his iron gaze. The nickname was fittingly appropriate. "You look familiar," he looked up as if trying to remember something, Carolyn quickly pulling Benedict away without a word. Benedict looked around at the dimly lit room, soaking in the details.

A violinist played her instrument near the back of the room in a quick and tense, wordless song, some griffons banging their claws against tables to the rhythm. Booth seats were on the walls, multiple rough looking griffons sitting, some with their heads on the table, passed out. A bartender stood behind a long lumber counter, stools seating more griffons, most of them laughing. The bartender was rubbing a glass mug with a rag when he saw Benedict, yelling out the phrase "Welcome to Ralph's Rioting Tavern" as if he'd said it a million times. The shelves behind him were stocked with a variety of colorful bottles. There had been a front door, but it looked like it wouldn't budge, the windows on either side of the frame blocked by a barricade of snow.

The floor boards were in dire need of polishing, and the walls were made up of logs. There were numerous wooden tables in the middle of the establishment, each one with multiple scars and scuff marks, all of them clearly unsturdy and worn down. Multiple chairs creaked and groaned as the griffons seated around each one laughed and moved. Support beams that ran up to the ceiling between each table, and to the left of the violinist were two pool tables, both in use by four very competitive players.

However, the main attraction was to the right of her, where two drunken griffons were battling one another, each one's step unsteady. The violinist seemed to be working hard at playing in rhythm with the fight, her music in line with each of the griffons' movements. By some stroke of luck, the first drunk landed a blow that toppled the second, though it seemed to be more from alcohol than the actual punch. Everyone cheered and clinked glasses as the winner quickly toppled over the others unconscious body, making the crowd cheer even more.

Benedict followed Carolyn as she took a seat at one of the bar stools, slapping some bits on the counter as the bartender rushed to get the regular's drink, but Ironeyes had stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Benedict muscles tensed as he looked back.

"Wait, I think I do know you," he said, squinting. Carolyn scooted off of her seat and got between the two.

She looked at Ironeyes. "Hey, back off," she said, glaring at him, which proved to be ineffective.

"Why'd you bring that trash with you? He's Griffinstone! I seen 'im before." Heads started to turn as Ironeyes was not afraid to make a scene.

"Well, maybe he's come here to visit the local trashcan," she retorted slyly, turning away and lightly whacking him with her tail. He was immediately infuriated.

"Why, you little-" he immediately swung his arm, ready to knock her to the ground, but her hand came up in a blur. She snatched him by the wrist and gave it a sharp twist, making him howl in pain before slamming him into the table twice, dropping him to the ground with a chipped beak. The audience cheered, but some were exchanging glances.

Satisfied with herself, she took a gulp of her drink and grinned at Benedict, who was mortified.

"What-? Why-?" He struggled to find the right words. "What's wrong with you?!"

"What?" she asked innocently, walking towards the violinist. "It's legal."

"That doesn't make it right!" he loudly whispered, pouting. As he watched Carolyn, he saw, in the corner of his eye, that some griffons were slowly getting up and coming near him, all of them baring scars of some sort. Once Carolyn had returned, the violinist was playing a slow tune, slowly picking up the pace as two griffons that Benedict hadn't noticed earlier joined in, one with two sticks that he clacked together and a single drum, the other with a lute.

"What did you do?" Benedict was wearily peeking at the crowd, shifting his gaze between them and Carolyn, who had a smug grin on her face.

"I thought that it'd be interesting to see you fight," she said simply. The band started warming up as one of the rough griffons came face to face with Benedict.

"Uh, I, um-"

"You've got five seconds to leave before I bash your skull in," he said, spitting at the ground near Benedict. He stepped back as he started counting.

Dammit, Carolyn! "Look, I don't want any trouble," he said, backing away.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Fi-"

Before he could do anything, Carolyn slapped the griffon with a force so hard that he was thrown to the ground. The other griffons immediately started to advance, getting into stances.

"C'mon, Ben!" Carolyn yelled over the increasing and fastening music of the band. "Fight!" Benedict watched as someone leaped at her, Carolyn easily jumping to the side to let the attacker smash face-first into the side of the counter. He hadn't even noticed the griffon behind him that was about to slam a bottle down onto his head.

"Ah!" He rolled away, sweeping the rough griffon's feet out from under him, the bottle smashing into a hundred tiny pieces that shined on the ground rather than Benedict's skull. Another, much less drunk, swung at him, but Benedict had much more combat practice than her. He easily dodged back, grabbing an empty chair from behind and hurling it toward her. She squawked when she was sent back, the chair collapsing on her. Benedict made quick to grab one of the legs, holding it like a club. He had honor; he wouldn't pull a blade unless someone else did.

The drummer brought his sticks together to the beat. Clack clack!

Behind him, Carolyn was dealing with two buff griffons as Ironeyes started to get up. The first was brown while the other was a deep red, both holding pool cues. They took jabs at her, but, like Benedict, she easily hopped backwards. Once she saw the opportunity, however, she grabbed a bottle from the counter and tossed it at the brown assailant's crotch region. He buckled over, wheezing as he fell sideways, pool cue falling to the ground.

The second one swiped from the left, giving her a chance to roll to the left to grab the fallen pool cue. She clutched the long wooden rod in her claws and easily smacked the red griffon's out from his hands. As he scrambled to pick it back up, she backed away and, with as much force as she could muster, threw the pool cue like a javelin, the end piercing his neck. She couldn't discern the crimson liquid that started spurting out from the red feathers.

The band continued to pick up the pace as some griffons began to fight one another rather than just Carolyn and Benedict being the center of attention.

Clack clack!

Benedict was trying to be nonlethal, but it was hard. A griffon slid over a table, Benedict running to the side as the drunk crashed into a support beam that proved to be sturdy enough to not break from the impact. Stunned, he held his head as Benedict came closer, raising and lowering the chair leg in a swift motion onto his head. A crack was audible as he fell.

The black griffon had an incoming attacker when he heard Carolyn yell, "Catch!" He jumped up to catch the slim pool cue that flew through the air, but he hadn't even looked in front of him. The result was him smacking against a giant grey griffon's chest with a thud. He looked up at the hulking mass of muscle and saw Ironeyes, his furious gaze freezing Benedict in place, broken beak turned to a sneer. Before he could gracefully roll backwards, he grabbed him by the neck in both hands, squeezing intensely.

Clack clack!

Carolyn saw what was happening and grabbed her current drunken foe's head, throwing it backwards with ease, making sure to dig her talons into his flesh as he yelped, and grabbed an eight ball. She tossed it at the behemoth of a griffon, if only for a distraction, and it worked. Benedict was dropped to the floor, gasping for breath as he turned. Carolyn immediately ran away behind the first pool table so that she was between the two. Ironeyes returned his attention to Benedict, who had scrambled away to retrieve the pool cue.

There was a moment of silence between the two as they stared one another down, some of the drunken brawlers turning to look, obviously eager to see Ironeyes fight. There was no way Benedict could beat him in a game of pure strength, so he'd need to be smart about this. He'd also have to make quick decisions, however, as Ironeyes immediately charged towards him. He rolled away, but Ironeyes was ready for this, holding out one arm and slashing at his shoulder with uneven talons. The thick coat protected his flesh from being penetrated, but scraps of cloth now hung down from his shoulder. Unlike the other unfortunate griffon, Ironeyes ran right through the support beam, sending splinters flying.

Clack clack!

Carolyn and Benedict both met eyes, both knowing that one another had the same plan. Like a bull, Ironeyes charged once more at Benedict after regaining his balance. Rather than staying on the ground, he flew upwards, hugging the ceiling as the giant dashed below him. Benedict snatched one of the bottles from the counter and bashed it across the sleek surface, sending fluid everywhere. He hastily tossed it to Carolyn.

Ironeyes charged again towards Benedict, but this time he was directly in front of the first pool table. Rather than going to the side or above, which Ironeyes was ready for, he took the risk of sliding right under him. His beak was inches away from the hefty griffon's chest as he slid across the floor.

Ironeyes skid to a halt, but not soon enough. His eyes widened as Carolyn, who'd stuck the bottle onto the pool cue to make a makeshift spear, thrusted it forward. Unable to stop himself quickly enough, Ironeyes howled in pain as his body's momentum carried him directly into the weapon, taking the glass spear with him as he toppled backwards. Benedict had returned, however, and grabbed his head with both hands, repeatedly smashing it against the pool table's edge. He still wasn't done yet, though. He grabbed his body and, with lots of effort, hurled it towards one of the tables, shattering it.

Clack clack!

"Hey," Benedict panted, "this isn't that half bad!" Carolyn smirked at him.

She yelled over the noise, "Told ya' so!" Behind, Benedict saw someone with a knife coming towards them. Formulating a plan, he unsheathed a dagger and tossed it to Carolyn who caught it easily.

Now more coordinated, Benedict got into a stance as a griffon prepared to jump towards him. Her wings expanded and her arms were outstretched, claws grasping for Benedict's face as he had jumped from the side. He ducked his head down, raising his hands and grasping her by the waist, turning her course of direction so that she was heading over the pool table. She squeaked in surprise as she was thrown over Carolyn, the griffon raising her claws upwards toward the airborne foe's stomach and digging the obsidian dagger through her stomach, cutting it open.

Like a gory pinata, the skin holding her stomach together turned to flaps, a steady stream of intestines flopping outwards like streamers, blood speckling the ground and Carolyn's head as the dismantled griffon slammed into the wall, leaving a bloody trail as she slid down the wall. She grinned as she tossed the bloodied blade back to Benedict who wiped it off on a fallen griffon's cloth.

Clack clack!

The band came to an abrupt stop when it was apparent that there were only five griffons who weren't unconscious or something beyond, excluding Carolyn and Benedict. They exchanged glances.

"Should we leave...?" Benedict asked, looking at the door.

"Probably."

***   ***   ***

"I gotta admit, you're a lot better than what I expected," Carolyn said, shutting the window and closing the blinds, the howling of the wind coming to a screeching halt. It almost sounded as if rain were drumming against the roof of her small home, a stone cottage built near frozen-over waterfall, because of how hard the snow was coming down. The lake her home was next to had been transformed into a giant ice skating rink.

"What did you expect?" Benedict asked, sitting down on the leather couch and tossing his cloak and undercoat over the back of it. A hearth glowed in the center of the wall, providing a comforting heat as Carolyn handed a steaming cup of hot chocolate to him, of which he gratefully accept. The bottom half of the walls were cobblestone, but the upper half was a smooth timber, painted over to look dark red. A couple Red Gear banners were distastefully hung around the room, as well as some paintings.

"I don't know," she responded, taking a sip of her own mug before sitting down to the cushioned seat across from him. "A prissy sourpuss who would be too afraid of getting their outfits wrinkled?"

Benedict chuckled, sipping at his cup as well. Despite the closed windows, the scream of the wind was still quite audible, almost as loud as the fire's crackles and pops.

"You know," she said, shifting in her seat, "I still can't believe you live with your mom."

His cheeks reddened. "Wait, why?"

She snorted. "It seems kinda pathetic, you know? I mean, one of Griffinstone's best fighters live in their mom's house."

"Well, I just..." He continued on in a hushed tone, mumbling. It wasn't until Caroyln put her mug on the coffee table in front of her couch that she got up.

"I guess I'm going to hit it," she said, walking towards a rickety cot. "You can sleep here if you want."

"Thanks." Carolyn settled herself into the bed as Benedict lied on the couch, head propped up on the comfy arm. He eventually fell asleep, but it had taken a while. He had had to focus on the hard hitting snow and insane winds before he could even get the chance of some shuteye. His last thoughts floated around his mind during his slumber: I guess everyone in the Red Gear isn't too bad.