Corvid Quill and The Griffon Claw Amulet

by Ink_Weaver

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other, Adventure
Length: 5153

When an over curious pegasus decides to invest in a stange magical amulet of griffon origin, he ends up way over his head and experiences things through a new set of eyes; will he learn from this, or is this just a start of a new adventure for him?

Disclaimer: Do not read if: You don’t like painful TF’s, don’t like implied vore (cooking), light gore, and/or can’t stand ponies, griffons, or my kinda crappy head canon I made up just for this story. If these things offend you and you insist on reading, do not read the part between the *’s and just skip past it.

Published 2013-02-28 22:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-28 22:50:01 UTC

Curiosity

The pegasus stallion looked the amulet over while admiring its every detail; the facets of the old gem inlay; the dark platinum talon tightly gripping that deep amethyst colored gem as if it was clutching to it for its very life. He didn’t know how or why, but this very piece of jewelry called to him, demanded his admiration, and pulled him from all other objects in this strange antique shop. He needed it, the feelings couldn’t be reasoned with, it needed to be his; closing his eyes he felt the odd pulse of magic radiated from it. From what he guessed, this was some item pilfered from a long since forgotten place far away, the very pulse and feel of it caused his heart to race and wings to pomf out in excitement. He had never felt magic like this, never in his life had there been anything but typical unicorn magic and the odd “magic” pegasi and earth ponies seemed to have in his life.

He was always a believer that the very soul of the owner was put into objects that were worn, wielded, or generally held close to its owner, a bond that forms between the object and the pony using it. Soldiers for example have their armor custom fit to them, worn nearly non-stop, their very weapons honed and filled with their very essence as they become extensions of them. This was more so for the guardians of old, and those in the more important branches today, the ones tasked in far away outposts with keeping the land safe. Even in the very back yard of Equestria’s hub city of Canterlot, there was the Everfree forest; a wild forest filled with things that for most are considered myth, its magic so chaotic and confusing, few dare to venture into it. Though he wasn’t one to fear the forest, seeing as he enjoyed delving into it from time to time, very much to the worry of those that knew him; this was more so when he’d return with fresh scars or even walking oddly for several days. No pony knew why he insisted going in there, his obsession with the unknown and things society as a whole where taught to fear or be left to the professionals to deal with; several ponies blamed Daring Do and the stallion’s obsession with the books.

But those energies attached to those special items were passive at best with a lot of focus, magic and meditation. Only glimpses of the very souls that used the item could be seen, often hazy and barely the slightest of clue what was going on. But this amulet was different; it had a power that felt alive, active, wanting to be known, wanting to be touched. But it was weak, very faint, something he could only feel when he closed his eyes and focused on it. There was no clue how long it had been here, how long it lain ignored by so many since its original resting place was pilfered, its original owner robbed of such a magnificent object. Looking around once more, he could see why to some this was junk, to others, it was just ignored; this was a high class shop in Canterlot deep in the back alleys in a seedier part of town. Within it, there were many objects of power and prestige, griffon armor at least 200 years old, countless questionable books of magic and lore from all over. To a unicorn, this place was magically overloading, like walking into a room a totally different temperature fluid, an object like this was drowned out with such powerful things resting but a few hoof steps away in all directions.

The stallion was different though, he tended to tune into something deeper than that, something spiritual, something that he couldn’t see, per say, but sense, to feel it out, to become synced with. Many ponies have told him he was mad; that ghosts don’t exist; that no other race but unicorns could learn or use magic. He knew better, he had been to the forest, seen strange things, least of all the magical forces that bound and even seemed to permeate the land itself. Timberwolves, for example, he found are not natural besides living wood, they are more like the summoned skeletons of necromancers of legend and tales to scare foals. They are held together by some chaotic force of nature that allows them to reform and never truly die.

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder, the numbness to the world around him, save for the dull throb of the amulet in his hoof, washed away as senses returned. Blinking a few times, he looked over and saw a very concerned looking shopkeeper.

“E-Er, sir, are you alright? You have been standing still for a while and weren’t answering me when I called out to you.” Rubbing his head, the Pegasus blinked more, looking at the shop keeper.

“Uh, s-sorry about that, I just… what is this, where did you get it from?” He said holding up the amulet, looking at it, the shopkeeper shrugged some.

“I was never sure. It came in with a shipment of pilfered loot from out near griffon lands. It seems to be some sort of griffon symbol, though those bird brains have always been tight beaked to us ponies since the war” the shopkeeper said with a tone of irritation. “Look, if you want it, it’ll be 50 bits, a bargain since I see how much you like it, and that thing has been here since that war, and no one cares to even seem to glance at it” the shop pony said with a greedy grin.

The Pegasus didn’t need any other coaxing, the shop keeper just grinned as those bits were poured out next to the register. That amulet he had marked down as 25 bits, but to the purple coated Pegasus, he didn’t care, to him it was worth 100 times what he paid for it. Pulling out a stack of papers, the shop keeper pushed the papers in front of him.

“Sign these please, this waives the shop, and by extension myself, from any liability of faulty merchandise or damage to property or ponies involved with whatever you do with said artifacts once you leave this shop.”

Before the shop keep could even look up to ask if he’d like it wrapped, the papers where signed with the stallions name, Corvid Quill, payment in full on the counter, and the door was closing to the shop as the Pegasus soared off at speeds that left an ache in his wings to get back home. The amulet seemed to feed and suddenly throb with more energy as soon as it was out of the shop. His excitement seemed to feed it, his little time probing it with his own mind having synced Corvid and the amulet up in some level already.

Corvid soared and glided for some time, the burning ache in his wings growing more and more unnoticed as he closed his eyes and felt out the amulet again, his mind’s eye visualizing the throbbing as he tried to feel its pulse out more. This object, the ornate metal, the magically enhanced object surged power through him as if the sky the stallion soared through revitalized it, reminding it of its past life, it’s original owner. His entire body burned in a stinging sensation as if he’d just flown through a super heated updraft from a fire, but the sting was good. In fact, it was actually somewhat arousing as he blushed. Gulping, he opened his eyes, only to find, somehow, they were much closer to his home near the forest than he realized. Looking at the amulet pedant, he wondered if maybe it did something, altered the time, but shook such silly thoughts from his mind.

When he landed, the sun had just started to set, half gone beyond the horizon as the moon had started to rise on the other side. Wasting no time, he went back to his room where he kept his books and some of his more magical oriented stuff. Digging through things, he spent a good few hours trying to find anything he could on it, but all he found was some vague symbols about it. It seemed to be some sort of strange unknown cult or religion of the griffon race. Not much information was left behind after the crusades into griffon territory during the great battles long ago. The very symbol was some form of power, of knowledge, not war. That very idea confused him, he had know the griffons to be warmongers and savages, not having their own form of learning other than how to fight, fly, and kill before ponies came along and taught them many things.

That very though sent a pulse of anger through him as for the briefest moment, adding more confusion to his mind. Looking down, he saw that gem glowing ever so faintly in the darkness of the night, a small spark of energy radiating in its very core. He couldn’t take it anymore, a voice in his head demanded he put it on, his entire body burning with a need to wear it. Digging through a box, he found an antique necklace, one that the amulet would hang freely from. He admired the links closely, the work on it looked crude compared to some unicorn jewelry, but strong and powerful, each link etched and masterfully done. He was reminded of his burning need with a twinge in his mind, shaking his head clear as that chain was threaded through the almost hidden loop on the amulet.

Looking at it, the entire thing seems to radiate more, the glow in it intensifying and seeming to throb. Time seemed to slow as he brought the whole thing up, and with a little work there was a click as the magic clasp on the chain connected itself. His body tensed as a gasp escaped his mouth. Visions, no, memories themselves seemed to flash through his mind, filling it with brief knowledge and an even more intense burning.

“So, you are fascinated with our kind are you little pony?”

Corvid’s heart almost stopped as those words seemed to echo in the space between his ears, a chill running down his spine as something spoke directly into his head. A spectral griffon strode in front of him, keen sharp predatory eyes piercing to the stallion’s very soul like talons into his exposed flesh. He felt like prey, a food item to this beast, easily dwarfing him with its superior form.

“Good, nice to see your kind still know respect… and yes, to us you were nothing but a food item.” a sadistic grin spread across that beak, then a laugh came deep from its throat. “Though I have no interest in that, not for you directly anyway, you are exactly what we looked for, and you are not what you seem.”

Corvid tried to move, tried to get the pendant off, but found he was frozen, be it a spell or his own fear, he couldn’t tell.

“That won’t work, but fear not, I am not here to harm you, in fact, you will be given a blessing… at least by our standards, something few would dare to do. Your kind may very well see this as a curse, but I see it in you, you might be the one to most appreciate the gift.”

The pegasus opened his mouth to speak, finding it hard at first.

“W-what do you mean? I… I don’t understand… g-gift?”

The griffon just smirked and moved closer, his talon lifting that muzzle up to look into those vibrant gold eyes of this predator before leaning in

“It’s a good thing you live so far out here… this is going to hurt, a lot. Do try not to die, it was oh so very lonely in that shop and we fear this time they may actually find THIS.”

Corvid had no clue what happened, it all happened so fast as the pain was unbearable as that soft burning turned to a full on roasting radiating from his chest.

“And if they did, they’d destroy it, and with it be one step closer to eradicating a part of proud griffon history.”

He finally broke eye contact as he got the strength to look down at what was causing the pain only to see as a talon was lodged in his chest where that amulet rested against his flesh as that gem shone bright enough to turn the world into a purple tinted haze.

“Oooh, you are tough, most would pass out by now, or die outright!” The griffon taunted as that talon came back clean, but holding something, it radiant blue energy from it as he held it up and looked it over.

“You have a strong soul as well, stronger than that fractured vessel you call a body seems able to manage.” Without a word, he gave it a lick, “Hmmm, so tasty too, it’s a shame you are no soldier and I am but a specter of my former self, or I’d have loved to face you on the battlefield, to taste your flesh full of fear, full of anger, full of all those flavors the will to live brings.”

Corvid struggled the best he could, he felt frigid yet at the same time like he was in an oven being roasted alive; his body temperature feeling far past what felt should be survivable. Then it happened, the griffon reached into his own chest, ripping out a pulsing energy source; slowly the stallions core and the griffons where brought together as they synced up, soon hovering between the two of them and orbiting each other, spinning faster and faster as they grew closer by the second. In a flash, they touched and an orb twice the size was left behind the same radiant and deep purple as the gem.

“There is no going back now pony, it’s time to become a bird instead of being named after a very proud and cunning one. Sadly I’m not long for this world now, your defense against this gift was strong, and the amulet I was tasked with guarding has lost much of its strength over the years, but if you live, you will understand. If not, well, one less pony in the world, and one last notch on my blade and a very clear message to your rulers.”

The room spun, it seemed like a hurricane of energies radiated out from the amulet as whatever the griffon had done had started full swing. The pain made him go blind for a moment, unnatural creaks and cracks radiated from his very being as the visage of that griffon slowly faded and mixed with the vortex of energy. He was going to die, that is all he could think of with how much this hurt and how he was going to die, about how right his friends were; that he is an idiot and would one day end up a meal for something or laying dead somewhere. He was going to be found dead in his room, a random artifact around his neck, and on his very grave stone it’ll read “Corvid Quill, he had a good heart, till he took one chance too many and it literally exploded from his chest all over his room.” He felt like he threw up, a pop so loud deafened him, he was sure he just vomited his entire digestive tract up. When he looked down through, he only watched as a dark colored beak broke skin and formed, bloody and raw. It’s then that he saw his fore hooves, they had split apart, talons growing out, he felt himself close to fainting at last, but he fought it, he fought to stay awake, to watch it happen, in all its agony and horror, he needed to see it, fight it, to live if not for himself, for his best friend.

There was a sudden explosion of pain worse than anything he had ever felt in his life, his body felt like it literally dislocated every joint, broke every bone in several places and compressed back together in his body all at once. The last thing he saw was everything going dark as his eyes feeling like they were boiling in their sockets, his newly forming wings flapping weakly in terror a few times adding to the agony before soon agony turned to numbness, his last thoughts were of his best friend in the world. With that, he was out; the pegasi as everyone knew had finally given in and passed into a deep sleep of blissful darkness far away from the pain.

* * *

Opening his eyes, he looked around, it was all a dream, he clearly… wait, no, something wasn’t right. He went to move, to open his wings, nothing worked as he felt stuck, tied up. A griffon moved back in front of him.

“Aww, looks like the guest of honor is awake.  Did you have a good nap my little morsel of meat?”

Immediately he opened wide to scream for help, but was forced silent as there was suddenly an apple in his mouth, shoved deep enough to cause him to gag some, his own jaws working against him as the muscles cause his mouth to sink into that ripe apple.

“Aww, pony not like apples? What kinda pony doesn’t like apples? Don’t worry, that is the least of your worries.”

Suddenly, he felt the binding on his wings was looser than he thought; wings moving as he suddenly started flapping. He started to get some lift off, even with his legs tied up close to his body, but that sense of joy was short lived as the collar he never noticed held him there, something more tied around his stallion bits, tugging on them, and digging in.

“Oooh, such strong wings, you really ARE a nice snack, but can’t have those things flailing around.”

The strong griffon grabbed those flailing wings with ease, twisting them as there was two soft crunch-pops and he feel with a thud back to the metal table. He cried, he sobbed uncontrollably as he felt the wings torn from their sockets, the pain made worse as slowly there was the feel of a blade, no, claws, sharp griffon claws easily separating flesh, muscle, and tendons as one, then the other wing was removed.

“Hmmmm, these will make a lovely side dish, but we need some more meat to prepare with these. Hmm… I know!”

Without warning, there was some very strong, inappropriate fondling against his male parts.

“Don’t worry, you need these even less than those puny things you called wings where.”

Corvid realized he was hard. Why was he hard? He was being mutilated, a slave to these griffons, but he was fully erect, and strangely horny.

With ease, the griffon severed those bits easier than he did his wings, twine tied around them to keep the shaft nice and full.

“Mmmm, at least you WERE a nicely sized male, our leader will be pleased such a stud was removed from the breeding stock” the griff taunted. “Now, time to get you in your new home, take a deep breath, this is going to hurt I bet.”

Rolling the pony over, they made a slice along that belly from ribs down to where the stallionhood used to be. They not too nicely pulled out all the organs, claws slicing and leaving that empty cavity open only for a moment as it was filled with various other things till it was full, belly stitched up.

A door opened off to the side, the collar around his neck unlocked as a griffon off to the side pushed the large pan he was sitting in towards it. He felt the heat, he suddenly realized, he wasn’t to be a slave, but some celebratory feast. With pleading eyes, he looked at the griff and shook his head, squirming as that cooking twine he was tied up in cut against his flesh. With a large grin, the griffon stroked that bald pony head, moving down that body slowly, soothing the pony some. Then there was much pain over his body, claws making shallow cuts all over that body, aggravated more as he felt himself basted and acidic fruit juices burn at wounds, pineapples layered along his back and pinned into place.

Sobbing into that apple, he slid into the oven, the door closed, the lock echoing in the perfectly pony sized oven. The heat burned his flesh, fire licking all over him, rising more and more, everything hurt, he was in agony, barely holding on even as his eyes boiled in his skill, brain feeling like it was vibrating as the fluids in there boil. He didn’t know how long he was there, but soon he was pulled out, fading in and out some.

“Oh… oh my, look at this! It’s still alive, albeit barely… look at that, hahah! The leader will be THRILLED to hear this.”

They basted the chafed roasted flesh more, stinging but soothing at the same time, his body starting to feel cold. There was a soft sound and feel of being slid back in, the lock clicking back into place as with one last strained exhale, the pain stopped and he was gone again, passing on into darkness.

* * *

With a loud gasp, Corvid jumped up to his feet, wings spread out, his entire body shaking, tears soaking his face as he sobbed uncontrollably. He shook and breathed roughly, the dream so intense, so real, like it actually happened. He still felt it, his entire body hurt, brain feeling strangled, the afternoon light burning his eyes. Keeping them closed, he rubbed his eyes against his bed cover, drying his tears as he made a vow to never get wasted again like usual when he woke up feeling this way. He staggered to the bathroom, his mind fogged in the feel all too associated with a very bad hangover. His head burned hotly. His mouth was numb and dry, feeling like he’d eaten a mouth full of sand, his stomach and insides feeling like each organ was tied into a bow. The bathroom was even more blindingly bright than anywhere else, but with some effort his eyes opened. With a groan, he looked into the mirror. A millisecond later there was a loud scream of surprised terror followed by the loud sound of what was now a griffon flying backwards and slamming into a wall.

He panted, searching the mirror as an alien appearance looked back at him, all the pain was put aside as adrenaline fueled by fear surged through him.

“This has to be a trick mirror. Messy must have got somepony to put it in while he was passed out. It… it has to be right?” he said to himself as he stared into that mirror.

That thought process broke down as he looked down, mind reeling as those eyes focused, seeing his talons, the dark flesh on them furless, but oh so sensitive still. Flexing them, his heart raced, his body in agony, but so many feelings filled him, overloading all his senses. Closing his eyes, he took a very deep breath before letting out the loudest, most rage, pain, and sorrow filled scream he ever has, the act alone burning everything up inside him and leaving him hollowed out. He was once again numb, but calmed much more, thinking more clearly.

He felt himself out on every inch of himself he could feel, drawing a bath as he did so. Closing his eyes, he breathed and thought about the night before, or what he thought was the night before. It made no sense to him, much of the memory hazy, he wondered if this wasn’t all some spell, some poison joke taken too far. While the water warmed up, he went back to the room, retracing his steps the best he could, finding that amulet once more, eyeballing it. Without much more than a sigh, he tossed it on the bed and walked back to the bathroom. Plugging the drain, he climbed into the bath, closed his eyes and let that burning hot water rise. The steam cleared his mind and loosened his muscles as he meditated and relaxed. He wanted to care, wanted to ask a million questions, but he was in no position to go flying around asking questions.

He sat there till the water started to cool forcing him to drain the tub one more time before refilling it up as he soaked and relaxed, drinking a lot of the clean water as he rehydrated himself. His form was much more stocky feeling, the water soothing so much of this new form he couldn’t help but enjoy it. As he washed himself this time around, he really felt in depth his body, his hind paws, beak, face, even his bits. Despite the situation, he decided to examine what was most important at the moment, working his new sheath, that dark Amethyst purple shaft sliding out. He couldn’t say he was disappointed, the shape, that knot, it intrigued him, and was pleasing to him in look and in feel. Scrubbing himself down, he stripped away the new musk he had till he was satisfied.

Corvid had no idea why, but he didn’t exactly hate his new form, the colors pleasing to him. His body was a dark purple, borderline black. He still had wings, large near black ones that easily dwarfed his old ones. His tail was surprisingly flexible and had amazing strength. In fact he was actually elated at how sensitive those hind paw pads where, and just how dexterous the talons where, far more useable than hooves or even wings ever were. Looking in the mirror, he rubbed himself down with a towel, drying everything, watching his eyes. Those were the only part of him that stayed the same, the only thing that told him he was the same pony inside, even if outside, he was not what hundreds of years ago townspeople would fear. Poking his tongue out, admiring the strangely alluring purple shade of it, he looked at that beak next, testing its firmness, its depth, the general shape of it. It was strong, and very good at shearing off flesh. But to his amazement he found that in the back, there were teeth that looked more focused on meat eating, but they were still shaped in a way that he’d be able to enjoy plant matter.

He’d never actually read anything about griffons being omnivores, just stories of their love of pony meat when the tribes met the barbarous tribes of griffons. His belly growled at that thought of meat from a pony, gulping some, deciding it might be a good idea to get something to eat. When he got to the kitchen, he just grabbed whatever his starved body demanding, trying out so many foods with his new form, drinking and eating gluttonously as he tried to feed that hunger. After feeding his appetite and nearly draining his fridge and pantry of most of its food, he stood up and stretched, body going to work breaking that food down to supply that ravaged body. With a loud belch worthy of award, he tiredly staggered to his room and napped the food coma off.

When he awoke hours later, it was dark, the moon still low in the sky, and he felt greatly better, inside and out. With renewed energy, his emotions balanced, he felt the flood of questions return, burning in his brain as they clogged and pushed their way to the front faster than he could think of answers for them. First thing he did though was look at that amulet, studying it, its traits, and it’s very feel energy wise. To his curiosity, it was dead, empty, little more than a piece of metal and a gem stone. He felt it was likely safe, but he had no idea what to think of it, what happened, his mind foggy still with only remembering bits and pieces at the moment. His first and foremost worry was that he was going to end up in a Canterlot lab, cut apart, put back together, forever torn from his life, a test subject to learn how to counter something that was long since a threat. He knew how the defense department could act, ruining lives of the few for the greater good and safety of the many.

With a sigh, he looked over those books more, writing down notes slowly as he taught himself how to use his talons, his tail, and his new body as a whole. He found it came almost naturally to him, like some subconscious effect was applied allowing him to learn this stuff quickly. He didn’t care, actually happy that was something going his way, adding the info to his notes and forming a journal of thoughts, feelings, and findings about himself very quickly. He had filled out his small saddle pocket sized journal most of the way, working into the night as he tried to get answers.

Despite the hell that he expected his life to become soon, he knew one fact as truth, he had one friend that would always be by his side and likely enjoy this new change given the “assets” that formed, though he doubted any other pony would understand easily. He planned to spend the next few days keeping himself separated from the rest of town, to make sure there wasn’t going to be some side effect to his change, namely something like uncontrollable hunger for pony flesh. His first thought though was to possibly find a place in the Everfree forest to move to, someplace no pony would dare to look for him if things went south.

Looking out his window, he decided it was a lovely night to learn to fly. Loading up a messenger bag he used to travel light, he left his room, taking a deep breath and letting it go as he got to the front door. Tonight was the first night of his new life, his thoughts unsure if he’d ever be a pony again, not knowing what was planned for him by destiny. But with a smirk, he took a step off that cloud home causing him to plummet towards the ground, his wings opened up half way down as he soared off into the night, just marking this mentally as one more chapter of his life to take for its fullest, just like Daring Do would do.