~~Courageous and Rotten Minges~~
I Would like to thank Hollow Mashiro for editing. Please check out her stories when you get time. I have updated this particular chapter with more action and a little humor on Gavrin and Karl's side.
At three in the morning, the guardians lead the heroes and their children through the ash-thick air in the very early morning sky, roughly an hour from the mainland of Munitions Forge. Terrador and his volunteer Earth Dragons, being the stoutest and most powerful fliers, took the lead and flew at the front of the arrow formations of the dragons. Cyril and Volteer hovered, shielded and hidden, in the center of the squadron. Bringing up the rear were Spyro and Cynder and their two gorgeous, but edgy, children. Dara was especially anxious, despite flying just ahead of her loving and comforting twin fear dragon, Aventus. All had their own concerns about the upcoming air raid.
Aventus glided closer toward his sister after dropping back to the tail end of the fleet. Though he couldn't see her face, Aventus could feel what she felt and thought. When they flew side by side Aventus looked at her and asked concernedly, "Nervous?" He slapped his face with a paw. "Dammit, what am I saying? Of course you're nervous."
She nodded her trembling head. "Yeah, but not because I'm nervous about the mission... I'm having these feelings…" she said with her head hanging, comfortably gliding on the currents of air the Earth Dragons at the front created while they passed and only flapping occasionally to produce lift when she started drifting lower.
Aventus tilted his head "What kinda feelings? Are you on the rag?" He shook his head. "Nah. We're dragons," he giggled.
"No," she giggled weakly, mildly amused. "A-all I can think about is... m-m-making eggs with males. I even dream of it... laying them, I mean." She trembled at the thought of the pain.
Aventus shook his head in astonishment. "That's what you're dreaming about when you moan painfully in your sleep and spread your legs?"
She smiled shamefully and nodded.
"Why would you wanna lay eggs, sis?" he asked concernedly. "Pregnancy and egg-laying ruins your body and your mind. Even dad says mom's never been the same since she laid our eggs... mentally or physically." He stressed, concerned for her.
Some time passed before she looked back over to him, hesitantly asking, "Do... Do you think that I could be a decent mother, Aventus?"
He smiled and reassured her, "I know you would, sis."
"What if the male I choose doesn't wanna be a father and runs out on me when I lay his eggs?"
she asked in deep concern, a tear in her eye.
Aventus shrugged. "You'll have gorgeous children to comfort you. And I'd love to be an uncle. So... you'll always have me and them... I promise." Aventus drifted towards her and pecked her cheek, restoring hope in his sister.
Though she was now happy, she couldn't get the subject out of her mind and continued, "I think it's just... instinct... Draconic instinct. Sooner or later, we all have to have eggs. Sooner or later, every male has to mount and wed a dragoness." She turned her head to look him in the eye "Have you chosen a mate yet?"
He smiled weakly. "There was that young Earth Dragoness that works at the inn. You know, the one that gave us some drinks on the house nearly every time we went?" he said, facing her.
"Yeah, why'd you run away from her again?" she asked curiously.
"Well..." Aventus began to tell his short, disgusting story...
A week before they graduated, being at the minimum drinking-age for dragons, he and Dara sat at the bar at the inn, lapping up their cherry brandy. The heavenly beverage, though it most likely would earn them a torturing hangover, was the best drink they'd ever had. As he drank his beverage with his twin sister, his eyes wandered toward a smiling Earth Dragoness, emerging from the inn's kitchen with a teapot-like jug hanging from its metal handle in her jaws. She carried it to the tables and allowed to customers to serve themselves. As she approached the cluster of tightly-packed circular inn tables, she turned her head and swayed her tail. As she swayed it, she slapped him on the back, causing him to yelp and shamefully giggle.
Dara looked at the serving dragoness and then faced her brother. "I think she likes you," she giggled.
He faced her with a slightly malicious expression. "You think?"
Dara gasped at her brother's expression and dismounted the barstool, shaken. "I gotta go tinkle; be right back, brother."
Little did the siblings realize that the Earth Dragoness in question was watching from one of the upstairs interior balconies. She slithered down the stairs and took Dara's place beside him. "I'm on break, Aventus," she said, smelling him from the tail-base upwards and then playfully nipping him on the neck, causing his scales to stand on end and his tail to sway. She then wrapped her tail, hanging down from the stool, around his and offered, "Would you like to go somewhere a bit quieter?"
"But what if my sister needs me?" he asked, beginning to feel uncomfortable.
"What if I need you?" she giggled seductively before she began to sway both their tails left and right. "C'mon, I'm on break for the next hour... I have one or two things to show you."
He gulped and surrendered. "Alright."
She smiled with joy, wrapped her tail around his neck and half-dragged him upstairs and into a vacant room. When the door was closed, she threw him towards the sleeping fur in the middle of the room and locked the door with her tail. He sat on the fur when she approached him and said, "Time for you to see hidden beauty, son of Spyro." She rotated and began to sway her tail left and right. As she swayed she slowly lifted it. Before long, she revealed to him her sparkling green sex, young, tight, fresh and untouched.
Meanwhile, Dara emerged from the bathroom and was both astounded and fearful that her brother was nowhere to be found. She gasped uncontrollably. "Aventus!" she called out. "Brother!"
The mole barkeep pointed upstairs. "He went upstairs with my rum waitress."
She tilted her head. "The rum waitress?"
Meanwhile, the Earth Dragoness looked back at Aventus with her tail raised and ordered, "Have a nice whiff to get your boner started."
He smiled. "Okay." He slowly approached the sparkling, steaming green treasure. When he was close, she smiled, faced forward and closed her eyes, awaiting his tickling snout and potentially his heavenly tongue or member.
When he put his snout to her big, sparkling sex, though, he took his first whiff, expecting a boner-bringing vapor... but instead cringed at a repulsive, rotten meat smell. His stomach turned and he sealed his lips, his stomach heaving as he approached the door with a run.
Dara was searching for him and was astounded and surprised to see him burst through a door upstairs, breaking the lock.
"Hey, get back here!" ordered the filthy dragoness.
"Aventus, what the hell-" She was cut off when he wrapped his tail around her and led her away at a fast trot.
"We gotta leave... now!"
Dara and Aventus eventually stopped on a bridge above a river. Aventus leaned over the railing and vomited.
His story elicited a giggle from Dara. "That's why you threw up?! You told me she offered you a drink that was spiked. You poor little thing. She made you whiff and possibly eat her rotten-smelling vagina. She could've had diseases."
"That's why I ran outta there."
"We're getting close!" Terrador called out, breaking up the siblings' conversation. "I can smell the gasoline fumes from here. They're building battleships and war zeppelins. I can feel it in my gut."
Cynder flew ahead of her life-mate and flew alongside Terrador. "How does the queen manage so many installations at once? Not even we can do that."
"She never works alone," Terrador began. "She has ever-loyal generals, who are just as corrupt and impure and homicidal as she... Her son, Prince Zakan Carmeleon, also runs the air armada."
By this time, Spyro caught up with Cynder, and they both faced Terrador. "So who's in charge of these factories we're supposed to destroy?" he asked.
"The prince himself... aboard his flag zeppelin... the famous..." he trembled when he finally said, "...Courageous Minge." While he trembled at the name, Spyro and Cynder broke out in uncontrollable laughter, barely able to glide steadily. The Earth Dragon warriors flying just behind tried their best not to let loose laughs, sealing their lips and smiling, as did the guardians and the children. "You should not laugh about it!"
"Why... why not?" laughed Spyro. "Why do trolls have to give their airships and battleships such strange names?"
"Maybe they don't know what 'minge' means," giggled Cynder.
Gavrin and Henshin finally slipped through the streets and alleyways of Valdin and approached the gates to the small agricultural town of Gutstone.
The guards, unaware that they were escapees, opened the gates for them.
When the gates closed behind them, Henshin asked, "So you say you have a Scurvywing?"
"Well, she's more of a Dreadwing. They only called her a Scurvywing because she was rescued as a youngling from the Scavengers, who tried to raise her as one of their mounts. Thus, a Scurvywing and not a Dreadwing. Though she can barely be called a Scurvywing; she looks so much like a Dreadwing. She's very faithful and has a lot of bad memories, just like me." He turned ahead to face the Dr. General and began chattering. "Did you know there isn't much difference between the two? They're like horses and donkeys. They can even cross-breed. And they can have up to five newborns, though, on average, they have twins."
Henshin waved a hand to Gavrin. "Gavrin, we can talk about your useless science later." Useless science? Henshin was a doctor and masterful gynecologist, how could he say that?' Gavrin thought "So... what did you say the teacher at the Enola Youth called you?"
He hung his head and almost shed a tear. "Insufferable know-it-all."
Henshin shrugged, "That's all? So?" He turned to face the young teenage troll again and almost felt his sorrow. He smiled weakly with a sudden idea. "You know, Gavrin, that's not big deal... When I was one-month old, I had a screwy face that had to be reshaped surgically... so my da called me a minge."
Gavrin tried his best not to laugh, but it came out through his nose, which spewed snot, and he was forced to crack up. "Well...at least now I know me da isn't the monster," he giggled.
He knew his story was cheering up the teen, so he continued, giggling uncontrollably every few seconds. "Yeah, and while I was a baby with a screwy face, da would say to my ma, 'I'll go change Minge, honey, you sit down and relax.' And she's like, 'Stop calling him that!'...He knew my name was Karl... and I thank him for calling me Karl, because my da was originally gonna call me Vlad Sukmeov Henshin. And that would have been humiliating."
"Man, your ma 'n da must've hated you," he laughed. "At least my da was sweet as sugar at one point in his life."
"Yeah, I would've committed suicide if it weren't for Valdin Kingdom Surgery. They changed my life."
Before long, the Dr. General and escapee teenager were about two miles and a twenty minute walk away from Gutstone. It was very early in the morning; everything was barely lit. They refocused on their singular goal: reach Garvin's Dreadwing, Star, and leave Valdin. Gavrin pictured himself and the Dr. General, who had assisted his mother during his birth, on her back, putting Valdin behind them and eventually arriving in Avalar and maybe even getting to meet a famous dragon. He pictured himself standing before Spyro and Cynder, or the Guardians, even! He imagined browsing the Warfang market's large selections of merchandise and eating like a ruler in one of the inns.
It only when a faint but consistent rumble reached Henshin's ears that he went wide-eyed and raised a hand. "Shh!" he hissed, halting Gavrin. "You hear that?"
The young troll put a hand to an ear, and he too became fearful. "A zeppelin, and it sounds like a Blood Angel gunship!" The young troll and Dr. General frantically searched the sky for the airship. Gavrin spotted it hovering over the distant Valdin City they had recently departed from. It had belly-mounted spotlights that scanned the streets and narrow alleys below. "Look!"
Henshin faced the same direction. "They're looking for us. I knew they'd never let us leave peacefully!" he growled. He tapped the young troll on the shoulder, who turned to face him. "Gavrin, this sounds insane for me to ask of such a young troll... but... are you prepared to kill if the occasion calls for it?"
Gavrin smiled grimly. "The way I see it, these Enola-followers bought their own tickets to hell... I'm just laying out the red carpet."
"Excellent." Henshin reached into his bag and pulled out a 12-millimeter rifle with a screw-on barrel and a small sack of bullets "This should do for you until we can find you a more formidable weapon." He screwed the barrel on and gave it to the teenage troll. "Now, this has a lot of recoil with a shot, so make sure the butt is firmly braced on your shoulder before you fire it, or it'll kick back with enough force to break your shoulder."
Gavrin took the high-caliber rifle and enthusiastically inserted a new magazine of bullets. "I can't wait to give Enola's dogs hell."
Henshin chuckled. "You're cruel for a boy who doesn't wanna be like his father."
"Hey!" Gavrin snapped with a malicious expression. "If you don't wanna be killed, you shouldn't work for tyrants."
Henshin rolled his eyes and nodded. "True." He glanced back up at the sky and saw the light Blood Angel zeppelin slowly approaching. "We gotta run! Cut through the swamp if we must." He and Gavrin left the trail and cut through the unpleasant and sticky swamp, slowed by the undergrowth but hidden from searching eyes in the sky by the tightly packed trees. As they trampled weeds and avoided the thorns that would snag their clothes and supplies, they could only hear the zeppelin's engines' roar, which was slowly getting louder. Barely any time at all passed before they felt a fierce wind blowing down on them, as if they were beneath a hovering dragon. Light suddenly shone all around them; it didn't take a genius to know that they'd been spotted and were being pursued.
"Were dead!" screamed Gavrin, certain they'd be captured.
"If they're chasing us, boy, they'll want to arrest us, not kill us." The slight encouragement was negated when the one of the many belly gunners on the craft fired three short, controlled bursts of bullets, which hit the surrounding terrain and sprayed them with mud. "Fuck!" he cursed. "I shouldn't have killed those guards in the palace. Worm through the trees and avoid being hit!" He ordered. But Henshin soon saw a large cluster of thick trees just ahead and amended, "There, Gavrin, we'll take cover and make 'em fly right past us, lose their sight."
They leaped into the cover of the thick trees and their dark shadow, narrowly avoiding the short bursts of bullets. They looked up at the craft from their cover.
"You think they can still see us?" Gavrin asked concernedly.
"I don't know, but let's hope not."
All hope seemed lost as the zeppelin's crew began to throw blazing barrels of grog overboard, decimating the land below and approaching their hiding spot. The gunners from the craft's belly fanned out and began to fire randomly and furiously into the swamp.
The Dr. General and teenage escapee lay down flat on their stomachs in the mud and plunged their fingers into their ears, certain this was the end for them. Bullets splashed the mud around them and the craft roared directly overhead. Two flaming barrels exploded: one north and one south of them. They were lucky; if the craft had disgorged any more barrels to the left or right, they would've been blown apart by explosions. The now-muddy general and teenager removed themselves from the hiding spot and continued on, thankful they were still alive, and continued. Little did they know that the zeppelin had dropped off three of the most powerful infantry the Valdin Kingdom had trained to date... Banshee Terror Soldiers. The well-trained, heavily-armored, seven-foot-tall, black-cloaked soldiers had light and heavy grey armor covering all but their eyes and fingertips. Their mouths were protected by an iron veil, which made their speech alone drive fear into hearts of enemy soldiers. They were armed with shotguns and large staffs with flame-shaped blades at both ends.
Once the horrific soldiers abandoned their parachutes, the commander said with slightly-muffled, bass-like speech, "Find the Dr. and that brat and tear them apart if they're still alive!"
When the Dr. and child came face to face with the horrific elites in a clearing, they felt they would perish from the mere sight of them. Outnumbered and outgunned, they had little hope of surviving the encounter.
The commander pointed his staff towards the two. "There they are! Remove that failed child and that idiot doctor!"
Henshin's fear was overpowered by anger and determination as he drew his cutlass one hand and his Grublin Mincer pistol in the other. "I prefer to be called... EVIL PHYSICIAN!" Henshin and Gavrin shot the other two Banshee Soldiers in their barely-protected knees as the commander took a fight-ready stance. He and Gavrin were full of enthusiasm and keen to charge for him. That enthusiasm died when the commander began to spin his staff in a circular motion and marched towards the two, causing them to fearfully back up. Soon, Gavrin could back up no more when his back ran into a tree. The Banshee Commander swung his entire being around with his staff and chopped the tree in half, and Gavrin only evaded it by quickly crouching. This was a window of opportunity for Henshin, who leaped for the armored troll and clung to his neck. Desperate, he tried to hack at the chain armor at the throat. His only reward was a fast, airborne introduction to a tree.
The commander cackled, certain the Dr. General died from the impact with the tree, and turned to Gavrin. Pointing his staff at the troll boy on the ground, he growled, "Running away is suicide in the Valdin Kingdom." He prepared his staff like he was about to split a log with an axe, causing Gavrin to frown and close his eyes, prepared for death. The commander's eager anticipation disappeared when a strange red, grenade-like device clung to his neck like a biting spider and rang in his ears. "Ah! Get it off me!" he pleaded, trying to dislodge it. There was a small explosion, and the troll's head was separated from his body. Blood and torn bits of muscle and sinew erupted from his neck. His head landed on the ground with a metallic clank from his helmet. Henshin, who'd survived his unpleasant run-in with the tree, ran his sword through the eye-slits of the other Banshee Soldiers, who had been struggling to regain mobility in their legs, despite the painful wounds.
Henshin ran to Gavrin and helped him to his feet. "You saw how useless our guns are against those Terror Soldiers. I think we should visit an old friend of mine in the Gutstone hospital. He's been working working on some formidable rifles and shotguns for me."
"What does he do there?"
"He's a coroner: never worked on anything with pulse in his career, but he makes wicked guns."
And so the ex Dr/general Henshin and the offspring of Vaulta Stonefist took the agonizingly long journey to Gutstone, where they would find Karl's coroner friend and optain better weapons and ammo, and Star, for their quest to freedom. They had to be cautious and stay out of plain sight from the sky. Before they became fugitives-and Gavrin figured they were already-it would take less than an hour to walk from where they killed the Terror soldiers to Gutstone...of course back then there was no danger of getting killed.
Henshin and Gavrin encountered a few conscripts in the swamp, which were easily dispatched with the rifle and Grublin-Mincer pistol. They continued on for Gutstone, their weapons drawn as a caution for any more potential pursuers and assassins.
And now they entered the crowded ER of the hospital, and from behind the safety of bars, the receptionist greeted and asked them if they needed attention
"No," Karl shook his head "I need to speak with doctor Nicrom Hollow-Bones, the coroner."
The receptionist had a strange look on her face "You'll find Dr Hollow-Bones in the corpse freezer on the third floor, but...I'm afraid nobody's aloud in there..."
The receptionist droned on about regulations, standards, and Gvarin eyed Henshin worryingly, fearing they would never obtain better weapons, and have to fend off Terror Soldiers, and worse still, his farther, with their cheap ones. But Karl had a thought, perhaps the woman or any hospital staff didn't know they were fugitives, and that Karl's Valdin Kingdom Army privileges had been stripped. He took a card from his wallet, with his picture. General/Dr Karl Henshin, Part of Queen Enola's Best, and slid it under the bars for the woman to study. Gavrin was biting his nails in nervousness as she tilted the card and her head
"I am here to question the coroner, ma'am, on a matter of national security. And this here is my assistant, a general in training," Karl made up convincingly.
"Apologies, General, I'll buzz you in." The woman held down a button under the desk and the door latch nearby buzzed so Henshin and young Stonefist could push it open and enter the ER. "Simply follow the signs, General," she instructed sincerely.
So Karl and Gavrin followed the direction on the walls to the coronary, past the artificial limb ward, filled with veterans, and survivors having their fake arms, claws and even eyeballs replaced.
Gavrin and Henshin couldn't help but stare, then look away "URG! I'm glad we're leaving, that I'm leaving the army. I wont end up like that and neither will you." Then past the maternity ward filled with screaming trollesses with swollen bellies. They walked past with their fingers in their ears.
"For fuck sake, give 'em some morphine!" said Gavrin.
"Kinda makes you feel glad to be a man. Trying a push a water-mellon-sized head, out of a tight lady flower they have is just-...urg."
But soon they entered the quieter, but spookiest part of the hospital, the coronary. Just a large room made of mostly glass-smooth tile, body drawers embedded in the walls, and exam table with corpse covered in a sheet...atleast they thought ti was dead. It began to sit up and moan
"SHITE!" Gavrin and Henshin drew their rifle and stubby shotgun. Was this real? Undead? And in a hospital and not a graveyard?...Of course not, it was...Dr Hollow-Bones on his own exam table? He ripped the sheet away to reveal the troll with over-stetched blue facial skin, and messy, out-growing white hair "HELLO!" he hopped off the table and dusted off his lab coat "I was a-just ah-...takin' a nap." He smiled at the child and old gynecologist, having their guns still drawn, they sheathed them.
Karl crossed his arms in anger "Still haven't grown out of those sick pranks, Nicrom, I see."
"Oh no no no no no. I was really taking a nap, honest. Hospital has me working me working none stop, and I got bills to pay, so I take 2 hour power naps once in awhile."
"Anyway, Nicrom, do you have those guns and swords ready?"
"A-ah, yes yes." he began to search through his cluttered ring of keys, one for each drawer in the fridge. and he kneel down to open the drawer he was sure contained what they were after. Opening it ans seeing the corpse of 120-old woman, an incision from groin to sternum completely hollowed out and filled with cotton and salt, he realized it didn't "OOPS. Wrong drawer."
Karl cringed, and Gavrin vomited into the tiny bin nearby. It was the next drawer to the left and Nicrom handed Gavrin 60-caliber rifle with a crystal and brass scope, and special bullets he said can take the top part of the head of an Banshee Terror soldiers at hundreds of yards away. He handed Henshin a pair triple-barreled stubby shotguns, and shells filled with double-ended nails and broken glass.
Karl gave him his fee for service and the two began to depart. Following the directions they made it back to the door the receptionist let them through. But Karl only opened it an inch or two and immediately slammed it shut again, and backed himself against it, a face like he saw a ghost "Fuck! Police! Waiting rooms full of them."
The ER waiting room had been filled with, not Valdin Kingdom conscripts, but more well-trained police in blue and orange hide uniforms and bowl-like helmets. Their weapon of choice were long-barreled shotguns and revolvers
"Wadda we do?"
"TOP FLOOR!"
The dragons neared the smoking factories of Munitions Forge. The pollution from the war factories could rival that from the smoke of the volcano, Boyzitbig. There were four gigantic hybrid factory-hangars scattered throughout Munitions Forge, surrounding the volcano. Each one was protected by two manned, quad-barreled flak cannons, which could easily tear apart a dragon in the clouds.
Terrador led them high into the clouds before he signaled to begin the attack. The dragons dove toward the first heavily-guarded factory, pressing their wings tightly against their sides to speed up via streamlining and to make themselves smaller targets. Alarms screamed on the ground and the trolls manning the quad began to fire furiously at the plummeting dragons. Terrador and one of his Earth Dragons unleashed earthen tornadoes at each of the cannons. The guns weren't properly secured to the ground and were torn apart by the small rocks in the tornadoes, turned into deadly projectiles by the howling speed of the wind. Their operators' skeletons were instantly shattered by the relentless onslaught, rendering them grotesque bags of flesh and bone splinters.
"Well done!" Terrador praised aloud. "Spyro, Cynder, children, infiltrate the east hanger and destroy the factory it's connected to!"
"On it!" confirmed Cynder, leading her male and children to a landing by the large sliding doors of the factory. The guardians and Earth Dragons stayed in flight, making sure the parents and their children would not be flanked by airborne troll reinforcements. Upon landing, Dara and Aventus were faced with ten screaming troll conscripts with simple rifles, while their parents were faced with muscular axe-users in heavy armor. The conscript's bullets could do little harm to the children and the conscripts were forced to draw their cutlasses and charge. When in range, Dara spun herself into a whirlwind and lifted them helplessly into the air. Once she stopped spinning, they were flung slightly away and landed with painful grunts. Aventus then shot each of the disoriented trolls with Fear breath, immobilizing them with terror.
Dara finished them off by using her tail scythe to slit their throats. They suffocated to death, their windpipes slashed and unable to carry a flow of oxygen. "My first kills…" Dara said softly. "I don't know how to feel."
"You did great, sis," Aventus praised with a comforting smile. "Now... let's go destroy a factory!"
"Go, Dara, Aventus! Mom and I will hold our ground here!" Spyro shouted to his children encouragingly while he and his soul-mate fought the armored axe-wielding trolls. Spyro used his electricity to immobilize one of the creatures, allowing Cynder to slash at his exposed face, tearing his eyes out. Cynder quickly followed up with a spray of her poison all over the bleeding face, which quickly reached and shut down the troll's vital organs. The repeated the same combination on the others with gruesome efficiency.
Meanwhile, Dara and Aventus slashed their way through a maze of workbenches and incomplete zeppelin engines. Around every corner, they encountered a pair of conscripts, which were dispatched easily by a quick pounce and a savage bite to their throats. On occasion, being brave in the presence of her brother, Dara swung her entire body around and beheaded a troll or two. Before long, they located a few barrels of gunpowder, which were used to fill shells for cannons and regular bullets.
They eyed it confusingly. "We'll need a fuse or something to light it and give us time to get out of here," observed Aventus.
While her brother stared at the barrels, Dara turned her head and spotted a quad canon on wheels, most likely pulled by Dreadwings or a dozen conscripts. "Look!"
Aventus turned in her direction and marveled at her idea, which he could deduce because he knew how her mind worked since he'd been stuck with her since birth. "Brilliant, sister!" The brother and sister took the towing ropes and wheeled it out of the factory.
Outside the factory, Spyro and Cynder fought off Dreadwings with conscript riders. Spyro used his electricity to immobilize the creatures, while Cynder sprayed her poison into the creatures open mouth – the same combination they'd used against the trolls, but modified to be effective against the Dreadwings. Cynder, now a master with poison, was able to kill the creatures almost without effort. Spyro then took flight, gathered a mass of earth around himself instantly thanks to his mastery of the element, and crushed the fleeing riders. The guardians blew light zeppelin gunships out of the sky with their respective elemental attacks, which were flocking from surrounding factories to meet the dragons' aerial assault.
Spyro and Cynder were dumbfounded when their children hauled the quad cannon out of the factory.
"Time to blow apart this dump!" proclaimed Aventus, his speech muffled by the rope in his jaws. Dara took the operator's seat while Aventus worked the cranks that aimed the guns. She fired furiously towards the factory while her brother slowly rotated the whole machine, ensuring that she hit a different spot with every shot. The rounds tore through the factory and eventually hit the barrels of gunpowder. The result was a spectacular explosion and a cave-in of metal.
After the noise died down, the children dismounted the gun and approached their parents. Spyro nuzzled his daughter, while Cynder laid her head on her sons neck and received a lick in return.
"D-d-did you see us, daddy?! Did you see what we did?" Dara asked excitedly, proud of herself and her brother.
"Brilliant, Dara," praised Spyro.
"Just like your father," added Cynder. She and her male cuddled their daughter.
"Hey, what about me?" growled Aventus.
The parents rolled their eyes and then approached Aventus and gave him affectionate nuzzles and licks. When the parents felt they'd given their children enough proud affection, Spyro proclaimed, "Now... let's go torch some more factories and hangars."
"Yeah!" The children screeched in unison before they all took flight and rejoined the guardians.
The two troll fugitives had made it to the rooftop of the hospital. They had made it out of the clutches of the police, but put themselves in harms way for airships. So Karl and Gavrin thought of climbing their way down the side of the building, were it not for the police on the ground, surrounding them
"Attention fugitives! We have you completely surrounded!"
"Can't we just fight our way through the hospital?"
"No we risk killing Innocent patients. We sure as hell can stay up here indefinitely. Knowing the police, they'll keep us pinned up here, until airships arrive to blow us away."
Gavrin poised his new improved rifle "Then I'll pick 'em off one by one from up here! There can't that many of them!"
Karl sort of agreed, but his gut sank when Nicrom Hollow-Bones emerged from beneath the roof aboard his armored Dreadwing "A-can't a-let yah do it, Karl!"
"WHAT?! Nicrom!"
Karl clenched his fists and thought he was having a nightmare...or that Gavrin and Henshin never made it out of the palace, got killed and went to hell. That was about how unusual the situation was.
"The chief of police will pay handsomely for your heads," he said, hovering before them up high.
"You're mad, more than usual, Nicrom!"
"MAD?! MAD?!" he began to yell as if he were living breathing megaphone "What's more insane, Karl? Turning fugitives for a bit of profit, and selling them guns to double the profit...or escape from a moist paradise such as this," he put his hands in the air, "to go live with dragons, and cheetahs in a technologically-retarded wasteland..." Nicrom droned on and on about being patriotic, advanced and intelligent, and Gavrin was being more irritated than Karl. But he saw opportunity when Nicrom had his ahnds up in the air, and smile on his face and his eyes closed,...not paying attention
Gavrin kneeled down and took aim at the girt strap that held the saddle tightly to the creature he was riding "YOU TALK TOO MUCH" he fired and the bullet snapped the strap, the creature only suffering a flesh wound in it's belly fat, and Nicrom and the saddle fell to his death.
"MY BEAUTIFUL REWARD! BWAHAHAHAHAH!" he cried.
Now the only problem left were the police surrounding the building. And Karl had an idea when he realized there was one thing Nicrom forgot to give him today. His sticky red grenades...He looked over the railing and hoped that he was carrying them. Seeing that saddle bag popped open with a pile of grenades falling out of it filled him with hope for triumph. "Let's provoke them into firing at us, and you shoot that saddle bag of Nicrom's when they tightly packed around it. So they did, but unfortunately, the police also had grenades, and were hauling them onto the roof with their air-powered canons, and explosion were happening all around them, ruining Gavrins aiming concentration.
"FUCK SAKE, GAVRIN, SHOOT IT."
Gavrin finally fired and the tracer, concussive bullet hit the grenades in the bag. And grnades scattered everywhere and began to explode at the rate of 3-per-second, killing dozens of police and throwing them into the air.
Gavrin and Henshin searched for the stables where Garvin's faithful Dreadwing was housed. On the way, they were forced to kill many royal conscripts and even a few of regular police force. A bounty had been placed on the child and once-loyal doctor/general to the queen.
Gavrin lead Henshin through the cobblestone streets of the town until they caught sight of the stable where Star would be tended to and looked after while Gavrin was at the palace. When they reached the facility-a simple large stable with a cabin and corn-grinder-they caught sight of a farmer grooming a golden brown Dreadwing.
"That's him. He'll have Star," Gavrin pointed, leading Henshin toward the farmer.
The farmer was dumbfounded at the sight of Gavrin and Henshin. "Gavrin," he greeted before facing Henshin confusingly and fearfully. "G-g-general Henshin."
"I no longer go by that rank. From here on...I am Karl Henshin. No more 'Doctor' or 'General.' Please!"
"Forgive me, sir Henshin." The farmer bowed deeply in respect, anyway. He then turned to Gavrin. "And what's this I hear about you two being fugitives?"
The farmer then took a folded poster from his pocket and unfolded it before Karl and Gavrin. It showed their faces, one of Gavrin, which looked like it was taken from a family portrait, and one of Henshin in uniform with his Grublin-Mincer shot pistol.
"Bah!" scoffed Henshin, raising a hand to the poster. "All that'll be after us are conscripts and police: Doughnut-scoffing, hooker-hunting air-heads."
"I'm here for Star," Gavrin interjected, finally speaking up.
"Right this way, Gavrin." The farmer led them towards the stables. Each Dreadwing and rescued Scurvywing was in its own stall. As the farmer led them through the narrow hall, they could see the station keepers throwing rats to the creatures, which were caught in their jaws skillfully and ate. When they finally reached Star's stall, it looked more like a prison cell aboard a scavenger ship than a stall.
The farmer drew out a large ring of keys and began to unlock the door. "Sorry for keeping her like this. The males were trying to mount her. They broke two walls to get to her."
Gavrin laughed. "I can imagine. She's always been an eye-catcher in the animal kingdom."
"Plus, she was agitated to everyone. Wouldn't even allow a brush-down to get rid of dirt."
"She only lets me brush her down. She snaps at everybody else."
When the doors were finally opened, Star woke from her sleep and screeched joyfully at the appearance of her master.
She was a slender Dreadwing with bright-red, silky smooth fur and blue skin. Her horns and claws were naturally gold. The skin of her wings was magenta with blue dots tattooed from the bone of her wing that fanned out through the rest of her wings. She also didn't drool like the other creatures. Her teeth were pearly white and sharpened. Her eyes were solid magenta.
"Girl!" Gavrin opened his arms. Star knocked him off his feet and furiously licked him all over the face. "You miss me, girl?"
She screamed with narrow eyes in reply, her way of saying, "Damn right I missed you!"
"She's one fine creature, Gavrin," complimented Henshin.
"She must be connected with you, Gavrin. She tried to kill one of my stable-men when he got a harness on her and tried to take her out for exercises."
When Star finally decided to stop mauling him with her Dreadwing-style kisses, Gavrin clambered to his feet and hugged her neck. "She was cruelly treated by the Scavengers. No one except me can calm and soothe her," he explained as he received a happily given, gentle nip on the neck from Star.
"So gorgeous, yet so angry," the farmer said, slowly shaking his head.
Gavrin realized Star was not attired for the trip and turned to the farmer. "We're gonna need a double leather saddle, some light armor, and reins for her."
"Comin' right up." The farmer went to collect a double saddle and light armor for Star. He and his stable-men strapped it to her. They had to crawl beneath her in order to secure the straps. If Gavrin had not been holding her reins and stroking her, she would've ripped them to shreds for the unwanted contact. A light layer of steel chain mail was covering most of her silky smooth fur. When done, the station-men retreated, knowing how vicious she could be.
"Now you look like a proper warrior woman, Star," Gavrin said as he took the reins and led her out.
Hennshin became alert and fearful at the sound of a zeppelin's engine in the distance. "We gotta make dust and tear clouds."
"Don't have to tell me twice," Gavrin said with a shaky voice as he mounted Star. Henshin was about to follow and take the back seat when, as he climbed, Star roared angrily and shook her body to throw him off. He landed on his back in the dust. Gavrin pulled on her fur. "Naughty! Karl's a friend of master's."
Henshin got up and dusted himself off before approaching again. "It's okay, Gavrin; women have thrown me off their bodies before."
This time, Star cooperated and allowed him a place behind her master aboard her. Gavrin snapped the reins. Star screeched and ran for a distance before leaping off a cliff and taking to the air.
It was only seconds later that a Blood Angel zeppelin roared overhead and darkened the stables. The farmer and his stable-men felt as though their hearts would burst at the appearance of Vaulta Stone-Fist, who kicked open the ranch's main doors.
The farmer drew his shotgun and the men drew their pistols. "O-o-off my ranch, you r-r-royalist beast!"
Vaulta drew his revolver and picked off two of the three stable-men with precise shots to the head. The farmer and the remaining worker fired desperately at him. Though they scored hits on him, they were causing minimal harm. The general bled heavily, but he couldn't feel a thing. He drew a mace and crushed the skull of the worker and swept the legs out from under the farmer, knocking him to the ground and breaking his legs.
"Where has my son gone?!" he demanded with a bass-like, sinister tone.
"I don't even know your son, general!"
"Gavrin Stone-Fist. He had a Dreadwing housed here: Star. I know because I let him keep the vicious bitch after she was rescued from the Scavengers." Vaulta drew his revolver and aimed. "Tell me, and I'll let you live."
The farmer pulled an angry face, but shed tears. He delayed. He would never aid Queen Enola or her followers in any way, shape or form. "Go fuck yourself!"
Vaulta ended his life with a three bullets from the pelvis to head.
After exiting the stables, which were filled with shrieking Dreadwings and Scurvywings because they were currently being captured and confined for the Queen's army, Vaulta stared off into the distance. He could see a colorful Dreadwing flapping away with two figures aboard.
"He makes it to Warfang...who knows what thye might learn from him."
The dragons had laid siege and destroyed all of the factory/hangar hybrids surrounding the volcano... save for one. The guardians, Spyro, Cynder, and the children hung back, while Terrador and his Earth Dragons unleashed their earthy tornados in unison. When the tornados combined and collided with the roof of the factory, sheets of metal violently broke off of it, followed by chunks of debris from inside the factory. Eventually, the whole factory was consumed by a whirling maelstrom of earthy projectiles. When the tornado died, all that remained was a field of debris, unfinished and damaged zeppelin engines, and corpses of workers. The dragons roared triumphantly as they hovered above the carnage.
"Come back any time, you two-legged, leathery bastards. We'll be waiting for yah," cackled Terrador.
Aventus and Dara hovered alongside Terrador. "I must say," Aventus began with an awed tone of voice, "Earth dragons are the best warriors against trolls and their zeppelins."
"Th-that was the best tornado implosion I've ever seen," complimented Dara.
All felt as if they had prevented the world from ending, just as Spyro and Cynder had years ago.
They didn't realize the Courageous Minge approached, concealed in the ashy air.
Meanwhile, in the royal chamber aboard the Courageous Minge, Prince Zakan Carmeleon pounded the ivory keys of his grand piano. He still had bright-red, blood-colored hair, but he was a fully grown prince. His body was almost as slender as a female's. He wore tight, brass chainmail all over his body. He wore a lot of jewelry on his fingers, ears, and even in his hair. From a distance, trolls mistook him for a lady.
With great skill, he was singing aloud with the grand piano in a Boy George-like tone. The song was Leningrad by Billy Joel. The gorgeous sound resonated throughout the zeppelin.
Victor was born in spring of 44
I never saw his father anymore
A child of sacrifice a child of war
Another son who never had a father after Leningrad-
A troll burst through the door and stood behind the prince as he was playing. "My prince!" he gasped aloud.
Zakan's beat was thrown off and he angrily slapped the keys, sending a horrific sound throughout the royal chamber. The thin windows nearby shattered, allowing the wind to whistle through the zeppelin and the horrible smell of Boyzitbig to enter. "I told you not interrupt me when I'm practicing," he moaned in complaint.
"It's an emergency, my prince. The factories and hangars around Boyzitbig... destroyed!"
He dismounted the piano seat and faced his underling. "What?!"
The troll nodded fearfully.
Zakan left the royal chamber of the gigantic zeppelin and, minutes later, arrived on the flight deck and surveyed the terrain below. Every factory was either a field of debris or nonexistent. "Ma's gonna kill me!" he moaned with a sorrowful face as he shook his head.
"Sire," the helmsman began, "Dragons at two o'clock! Orders?"
Terrador finally turned to the other dragons after deeming the factories and hangars thoroughly destroyed. "We did brilliantly. But we must return to Warfang now."
Cynder's eyes nearly popped out of her skull at the sight of a gigantic zeppelin slowly emerging from the smoke behind Terrador. It was escorted by a large flock of screaming Dreadwings with marksmen riders. It didn't take long for all the dragons (minus Terrador, who was facing the other way) to share the same reaction. "But what about that zeppelin!" Cynder shouted.
"Th-th-the Courageous Minge!" screamed Dara.
Terrador turned to face the approaching craft and the swarm of Dreadwings surrounding it. Though Terrador himself shared the group's fear, it was buried by courage as he commanded, "We can take this thing and the prince! Hold your ground!"
Surprisingly, the zeppelins roaring engines slowed to a purr and it came to a stop just out of range, instead of plowing forward in an attack.
"What are they doing?" Cynder asked.
"We can't stay here!" Aventus shouted angrily, "They'll overwhelm us. Mow us down! Look at how many Dreadwings there are!"
"Shh!" Cynder hushed her son.
It was then that a ringing was produced from the speakers, followed by the voice of Prince Zakan Carmeleon. "Congratulations. You destroyed my factories... yippie," he praised mockingly. "It's nothing to be proud of. You're going to earn me a slap on the face from ma."
Aboard, as Prince Zakan held the microphone, he turned to the helmsmen "Turn on exterior microphones."
"Aye, my prince," confirmed he helmsman as he flicked several switches before him.
Though he knew the troll speaking into the microphone most likely wouldn't hear, Spyro flew to the front of the group and asked as loud as he could, "Are you Prince Zakan Carmeleon?"
"That I am," he cackled in a feminine tone much like his mother's. "And you, Spyro, may have destroyed my factories, but you've only put a dent in our plans!"
"How?" Spyro wondered in a surprised tone, before he snapped back into seriousness. "How did you know my name, troll?!"
"Everybody knows who you are, purple savior boy. The Purple Dragon, the special once-in-a-millennium dragon... Thank you for preventing the end of the world and killing Malefor," he said in a more grateful tone before he returned to his previous snarky tone and mood. "But now is our time. My mother will be ruler!"
Cynder then took her place at Spyro's side and spoke loudly towards the craft, "Prince... Zakan," in an unsteady tone.
"Ee-yes, anorexic dragoness?" he said, his voice high and screechy at the beginning.
"I'm not anorexic!" She concernedly looked at her body and then turned to Spyro. "Do I look anorexic?"
"I'm just joking. You're just a thin dragoness. Now whadda yah want?"
"Zakan, isn't your mother's just using you? Does she ever show affection to you?"
Zakan's face was mildly sorrowful as he thought about all the loveless mothering Enola gave. Before long, he shook his head and got to the point, "Look... turn back and return to your cozy homes and we'll pretend this never happened," he offered.
"We can't let you go unpunished for the destruction you've caused!" Spyro shouted.
"Fine, as you wish! Dreadwings, take care of the guardians. Spyro and Cynder are mine!"