The land passed by Cerannius; the trees blurred and the occasional bird thumped against the metal body of the locomotive, unused to the nature-shattering presence of the metal locomotive. Thick plumes of black smoke were ejected out of four grimy, soot-covered chimneys, polluting the land with clumps of unburned coal. The locomotive ride was certainly a lot more enjoyable than riding from Reverent Hall to the Capital; albeit there was always an uncomfortable ride over the river, something never quite seemed right to Cerannius about crossing the river on the train. Whilst He didn’t doubt the solidity of the Dwarven construction; it was a towering monstrosity of stone, metal and timber, seemingly built stronger than most city walls. 

There was the sound of metal clanking on metal, the signal of the impending arrival of a soldier arriving through the door. This dragged Cerranius’ eyes from his portal to the outside world back inside the cabin of the train, his eyes skipping the plush interior of the cabin and its four inhabitants and to the door which was pushed open which was swiftly followed by the entrance of one of the soldiers that had accompanied him from Reverent Hall. The man was one of his most capable cavalry soldier; he was a light cavalry man which was not a bad lot in life for someone who was born as a prostitute’s son. The man bowed to the five people seated in the room, all rather important men in this little social world but Cerannius was the only one from the worth of actual worth in the kingdom. 

The other four politely moved their attention away from the soldier when he made his way over to the Knight-Marshal who idly sipped on the last remnants on the wine left in his cup which he places down on the ornate wood table next to him. The soldier was dressed in a studded leather armour, the more casual armour used for a light cavalry man, he had a sword casually slung from his hip in a plain leather scabbard. The man held his fist over his heart and bowed again to the Knight-Marshal and said “Mi’lord, the King has requested you ride straight to the Palace, there is an urgent matter that needs to be resolved. He’s tasked some of the aerial cavalry to take you from the waystation the palace and we’ll will bring your gear with us when we ride there.”

Whilst it could be seen as odd for the Knight-Marshal to have his guard removed before a trip it barely crossed his mind as a worrying event. “Thank you Anear, I’ll await your presence at the palace; I have a nice bottle of wine packed away to celebrate my victory today and I’ll have one of the halls whip up a feast for all of us”

“Thank you mi’lord, your generosity is most king” he said with a final bow before he departed the room, closing the door with a soft thud, being careful to not disturb the men in the room. Cerannius showed little interest for the other men in the room; two were minor nobles, one a wealthy merchant and the last was a Dwarven ambassador; no doubt a representative of Rotar to see the king or some other obscenely rich noble in the land.

When the train began slowing into the station Cerannius rose and tugged on his plain grey tunic, desperately trying to pull the folds out of the garment before giving up with an exasperated sigh. He stood up, noticing how the men waited for him to leave before they rose themselves; clearly they were sticklers for formality. The train pulled into the station with a soft stop, barely disturbing Cerannius as he strode across the room and pressed the silver button located next to the reinforced door, popping it in with an audible click. The ornate door slid open with a pneumatic hiss and the sunlight which had previously been held at bay were unleashed through the cabin. 

Once he stepped off onto the platform he became aware of a Gryphon waiting for him at the open end of the platform. It had a rather noticeable distance between it any anyone walking by; whilst the monsters were an integral part of the Arturian war machine it didn’t mean that people felt comfortable around beings capable of such death and destruction. The beastmaster of the Gryphon was still seated on the saddle, who dropped his head as a bow to the man before wordlessly offering his hand to the Knight-Marshal and aiding him to climb onto the back. The beastmasters were a notoriously silent lot; something about bonding and spending the majority of their time with beats removed their desire for human conversation. The Gryphon took off with a stomach-churning leap before it’s powerful wings thrashed the wind under it and soared into flight; riding the calm breeze which blew its way towards the Palace. It was a rather pleasant result for the Knight-Marshal, aerial travel became rather rough when the beasts had to fly into the wind.

The flight was a short but unpleasant nonetheless journey; being able to go as the crow flies allowed the group to quarter the time it would have taken to journey to the Palace. The chimera began to descend and with up Cerannius’ stomach rose to his mouth and that all-encompassing nausea exerted it’s authority of his body. He managed to survive the landing, stepping off onto the solid ground with a relieved sigh and a hawked spit removing the bile from his mouth. Two of the palace guard were awaiting his presence, their hands resting on the pommel of their swords; always alert, always ready to draw in a matter of seconds. The two guards wordlessly escorted him through the palace, past an endless myriad of servants, nobles and other guardsmen who greeted each other with silent, curd nods. It was customary for the palace guard to say nothing to each other whilst nobles or commanders of the land were around unless the conversation was initiated by their charge.

Cerannius had no mood for conversation; right now his mind was abuzz with trying to pre-empt what the King wanted him for. His own sources had here nothing of note recently, nothing more than rumours on the wind and mere heresay. The last time he’d been summoned like this was to war against a tribe of necromantic men who’d sought to take the Kingdom with an army of skeletons. That same army had been crushed under the hooves of the Arturian cavalry; swept away like young saplings caught in an avalanche. To receive a summons like this suggested a danger or a similar scale or the potential for it to escalate to that level. 

By the time they reached one of the many war rooms contained within the palace, Cerannius had already created and solved twelve possible dangers facing the kingdom ranging from a rampant demon to a widespread civil war in the kingdom. The guardsman leading their trio pushed opened the door for Cerannius revealing the Council of Five Races, a few beastmaster and the King standing around a map of their solitary coastal province – a quiet fishing hamlet which naught else but seafood to the land. The avid discussion was interrupted when they heard the entrance of Cerannius who bowed to his King with a “My Lord” and greeted the assembled councilmen. 

The council was made of the leader of each race and the King; it was assumed that when one took the crown they forswore their racial ties but it didn’t always work out that way though. The council was comprised of Ironfist, Turok the Clearsighted, Duke Signius, the Dwarven amabassador as Duke Rotar loathed to leave his subterranean citadel and finally Duke de Vries, the leader of the human races in lieu of King Eyrar. The human duke was a particularly unremarkable man; loyal to his king and diligent in his duties. Each had two of their own personal guard in the room; whilst it was unnecessary in this day and age, it was based in a tradition that stretched back to the day when the warring tribes would take the meetings as a chance to kill the leaders of the other tribes to weaken the other races standing in the land.

“Cerannius – come, enter. We’ve had a report from our coastal hamlet of Scaleshire; apparently they’re having their ships taken and sailors killed by what appears to be a wild Sea Serpent is terrorizing their fishing fleets. We can’t allow this to continue; this village is under our kingdom’s rule and we cannot let them be slaughtered” uttered King Eyrar, informing his commander of the situation. 

Cerannius nodded thoughtfully, chewing his lip as his mind processed and deciphered the information that was provided to him. “Well naval warfare is not our forte but that doesn’t mean we have no options albeit a Sea Serpent will prove a tough adversary. What plans to we have so far?”

“Is the simple solution not to send the Krakens after the beast? Surely they’ll be able to take them out?” asked Duke de Vries; he was a rather simple man, he was a good fighter but the finer nuances of strategy didn’t come to him. For de Vries, the key to winning battles was brute force and sheer numbers hence why he didn’t rank as one of the most dangerous men in the land. 

“My Lords, The concern is how many we send; if we send too many the Kraken will be hampered by each other and likely slaughtered by the Sea Serpent and we don’t send enough, well the result would be the same. The tip is to find the right number of Kraken and keeping them ordered; I’d suggest tasking some of our Gryphon Cavalry too, they can signals to the beasts and control their movements. Plus a bit of aerial firepower won’t go astray” piped up Beastmaster Hurin. He was the unofficial leader of the beastmasters of the kingdom; he was a wizened man of some 70-odd summers with thinning grey hair and a face wrinkled by a hard life. Whilst he was somewhat beyond the capability of being able ride into war, his use was more in an advisory role being the most knowledgeable person in the land about monsters in combat.

“We have the logistics in place already for this sort of operation; last report I saw is that ten of our Kraken are in a battle-ready state and there’s a squad of Gryphon cavalry at Stablesvale who can make it to the fishing village in a day’s flight. We don’t have any proven leaders that are experienced in monster combat in the area though, we can easily send someone from here, and the locomotive can take them as far as Stablesvale then a gryphon ride from there. The question is who do we decide the send?” Turok contributed his piece to the discussion; logistics and supply trains were his area of knowledge which provided a major boon to the nation’s military.
Cerannius offered his opinion with “Well I’d suggest sending five Kraken with one of the Beast Captains, they’d have the experience to manage both Gryphon and Krakens in an assault. Whoever does it will have to have an intricate knowledge of the two albeit the Kraken side would be harder to manage. Unfortunately our Krakenmaster died two weeks ago and there was no clear successor; who would you suggest sending Hurin? I suppose it’ll provide a perfect application for the job, wouldn’t it?”

“Beast Captain Romar would be the best pick I’d say; he’s our most learned member with Krakens albeit he is slightly lacking in field experience. I’m sure the captain of the Gryphon Cavalry squad will be able to help in that field, he’s a veteran of many battles and knows how to lead a squad” offered Hurin.

“Agreed, we send five Kraken and Beas Captain Romar to Stableswood, meet up with the Gryphon cavalry and then head to Scaleshire. Does any of the council disagree with this?” asked Eyrar, addressing the assembled councilmen. There was merely nods of agreement from the other councilmen and advisors; some like the dwarven ambassador and Ironfist had little to offer in this sort of field but their agreement was more of a ceremonial gesture. It demonstrated unity and co-operation between the various traces in the land. 

“Give Romar his orders and have him dispatched immediately; we cannot allow this sort of death and destruction to continue any longer else we face losing our influence on the outer provinces.”
---

The salty, sea breeze caressed Romar’s face as he crouched over the furred back of the gryphon he rode; they were an elegant race of flying animalistic hybrids. They were minacious creatures; capable of tearing a man asunder in a number of ways and before they’d been tamed by the Arturian Beastmaster they’d slaughtered the Arturians like rats. However now that they were domesticated they provided an excellent mount for the Arturian Aerial Cavalry; capable of swooping down from the thermals to harry and extinguish their prey. Whilst the Gryphon was the more common mount of choice for the Air Cavalry, some of his more unhinged comrades tamed the far rare and more dangerous Chimera. Where a gryphon was noble and elegant; a chimera was foul and unholy – an abomination of lion, dragon and goat species that repelled just about all that see it.

Dragging his mind away from the nuances of beast physiology, Romar refocused his mind to the task at hand and the reason for why he was flying over the ocean in the first place. Shifting his gaze ahead, he saw three of the squad members in front of him; the lieutenant and the two draconians took the point of the formation. To his left there were three men flying to his left and to his right was another three men and rather curiously a dwarf, clearly dissatisfied with the reclusive life provided at Refuge Rock. A slight smile danced across Romar’s lips as he noticed how the dwarf’s beard flapped comically about in the wind; whipping across his face and causing a small measure of discomfort. To suggest attempting to contain or remove the beard would be to court becoming headless so he kept his joviality as inward as he could and his opinion silent.

The lieutenant help up his hand; it was the prearranged signal for having spotted something on their long and wearisome search. It was their third day of flying out over the ocean because as with suiting their luck as they arrived in Scaleshire there’d been no sightings of the beast for nearly a week. Their mounts were beginning to tire from the constant exertion and they had maybe an hour’s worth of light left in the day and limited control over the beasts which swam hundreds of metres below them. The two draconians plummeted from the group, swooping down to investigate what Romar could now discern as the shattered remains of a fishing boat which contained a distinct lack of bodies. 

He turned his head rather nervously, there was still blood trailing through the water meaning this kill was rather fresh and therefore their prey would be nearby. He guided his mount nearer to the soldier directly on his left, a grizzled veteran whose beast carried a rather important package with him; a set of war drums tuned to the right frequency for their beasts below. “Summon the Kraken, soldier. They should be able to rustle up the beast we hunt.” A nod was all the reply before the veteran began playing; soon a stream of low booms filled the air.

Boom.

Romar’s heart began to beat faster in anticipation of what was to come; soon a battle of gargantuan proportions would be underway and its result would be dependent on how well Romar managed the situation.

Boom.

The two draconians heard the noise and turned their beasts back towards the group, they knew to remove themselves from the air, re-joining their companions who held javelins in white-knuckled grips. Whilst these men were mainly veterans of countless conflicts this was nothing like what they’d ever managed before.

Boom.

With the distinct lack of anything on the surface of the mildly choppy, deep blue water stretching out below them, Romar’s mind began to wander with concern. Had the krakens been attacked already? Do they fear this creature enough to refuse the summons on their masters?

Boom.

Suddenly the water burst asunder with a tremendous crash as dozen of thick, oozing tentacles flailed out of the deep and soon the grotesquely fearsome body of the kraken surfaced. The beast was visibly distressed, the tentacles bunched up and shot out; it spun on the spot as it sensed the presence of something else out there. Something was hunting it, stalking it and it could feel the gaze of some unseen foe nearby. It submerged itself back into the writhing, boiling water stirred up by its own activity; clearly deciding that it was better off in the murky depths against whatever stalked him.

Romar’s heart began hammering even harder in his chest; whilst the Kraken were massive, powerful creatures, according to the reports the thing they hunted was even greater. His gaze frantically flashed around the ocean, willing their prey to show itself albeit by now he was starting to feel like the prey in the situation. Suddenly the surface broke with an almighty disturbance as a sight quite like anything else unfolded before them; a kraken flew through the air, thrown as if it was a mere rag doll. The thirty something foot long squid landed with a splash that threw spray hundreds of metres away and a plume of turbulent water that pierced the sapphire blue sky. 

Romar almost missed the horrific head which emerged some distance from the kraken, it was a pale grey in colour with chunks of ragged flesh hanging off its head. A number of spiked frills adorned the crown of its head; shaking violently as the creature emitted a hiss which cut through Romar’s courage and instilled him with an unimaginable sense of dread. He could smell the breath of the beast even at the range he was at; out of the gaping may containing an infinitesimal number of teeth came the putrid stench of death and decay. The head began to sway from side to side, entrancing the onlooking soldiers flying above who were overwhelmed by the incomparable scene of horror so great all they could do was watch on helplessly. The kraken thrashed its tentacles around once again, bellowing with a roar as it issued a challenge to the fearsome beast in front of it.

The kraken was confused but aggressive, its shoal were the rulers of the waves around the area; it would defend its territory even against a monstrosity such as this. The rest of the serpent’s body rose to the surface revealing a tubular creature of some ninety foot. The long, circular body was broken only by some twenty pairs of fins spaced relatively even apart and a teen-odd foot long arrowhead-shaped tail. The beast raised its tail out of the water, water droplets tumbling off the hard, dark bone and swung it menacingly akin to a scorpion brandishes its stinger. The kraken issued another bellow as it faced a creature thrice its size; albeit this challenge was far less authoritative then the first. Fear was crawling into the creature’s brain, wrapping its shadowy tendrils around its courage like some all-enveloping darkness. 

The monster opposite raised its head further out of the water, revealing yet more ragged grey flesh to the afternoon as it’s fins bunched ready to launch itself at the kraken in front of it. Dwarfed and cowed by the size of the creature in front of it, still it stood strong, spreading its tentacles out in order to make itself look larger and more menacing. It was a last ditch attempt to dissuade the larger being from attacking; one that was destined to fail.

Viewing the entire spectacle on the thermals above the, Romar was instilled with a gargantuan mixture of awe and dread as his mind lacked the comprehension to distinguish between the two. Even their Gryphon mounts below them; usually a picture of calm and grace were as jittery as a stallion in the face of such. These men spent their lives breeding, raising and riding monsters yet here, now, they were handed a spectacle unlike anything ever recorded in their history. The men looked at each other in utter bemusement; even the lieutenant was clueless as to what they could to but Romar raised a trembling hand to the men, feeling as feeble as an old man. Whilst he knew the kraken stood no chance against the beast, committing the troop of Gryphons to the fray would have little impact with the scales so disproportionality weighed. Suddenly his heart fell as he heard the whoosh of forty fins violently thrusting through the water and the great creature flew towards its prey in front of it.

The small kraken stood down the launching creature, steadfastly holding its position which utterly bemused Romar; the creatures weren’t idiotic yet the beast remained there. Did its survival instinct fail in the face of such fear? Would it be carelessly slaughtered by this creature of brutal violence?

Another two whooshes filled the noise and Romar’s eyes lit up when he heard the noise and saw the two brown blurs launch out of the water and cut through the air like arrows flying true to the creature. As it was about to come down on the small kraken in front of it, the serpent was hit with two sickening crunches as twin forty foot krakens thudded in its body, knocking it over and away from the first kraken. The two kraken, somehow not dazed by their brazen assault on the beast reacted faster, wrapping their tentacles around the creature and clamping their razor-sharp beaks, hidden by masses of writhing tentacles, into the creatures body. The serpent violently thrashed it’s body, dislodging on of the creatures which tore a great chunk of flesh from the creature but the other kraken manage to cling on, tearing and gnashing at the flesh presented. A chilling shriek was emitted from the serpent, a noise of anger and pain. Its meal had been interrupted and now something would pay for it.

Turning to the kraken that’d been flung away it’s launched itself once again, taking an aggressive approach against the new foes. The kraken stirred slightly but moved too slowly as the jaws of the beast came clamping down on some of its tentacles, ripping them apart and injuring the beast. A pained cry from the kraken was followed by a deafening bellow. The deep throaty noise echoed through the sky, bringing hope to Romar’s heart as he recognised the sound of the Bull. The Bull Kraken rose from the depths, all 60 foot of power and destruction. This was the alpha of the group, the toughest and meanest. 

By now the serpent managed to dislodge the other kraken on its back, flinging it off once again leaving a jagged chunk of torn flesh. A thick, black blood oozed out of the wound, running in a gelatinous flood down the body of the creature. The Bull launched a torrent of ink from its body, nailing the creature square in the eyes blocking its vision. A tail was blindly and wildly thrust at the kraken, missing the first two times but on the third, the Bull grabbed the tail and sheared the bony part off at the fleshy join with its beak. The plated bone spike sunk to the depths leaving a weeping stump that oozed yet more blood. 

The other krakens had reattached themselves in the meanwhile; tentacles wrapped and beaks chomping down on the body of the beast. The last kraken had also joined the fray, another 40 footer of a black-bespeckled brown complexion taking the count to five kraken attacking the one severely wounded serpent. The creature was now paying the price for its size; its death was a relatively slow matter, the krakens tore at its flesh with all their might but they weren’t delivering much major damage. The bull managed to work its way up to the head of the beast, despite its frantic thrashing and rolling; doing all it could to remove the parasitic-like krakens attacking it. Wrapping the thickest of its tentacles around the neck of the beast, it began to crush the neck of the beast, all the while using its beak to weaken and tear the flesh. 

The thrashes became weaker and weaker; eventually ceasing when the Bull managed to completely crush the neck of the creature, severing it too as its tentacles ripped it apart. The triumphant cries of the kraken filled the air as the shoal announced their victory over the beast, daring another to try and challenge their authority. Romar nodded thoughtfully from the skies as he saw the end of the beast, they’d done well; only a slight injury to one kraken and the beast had been killed. He looked across to the other gryphon riders, they were still wearing faces of utter shock, awe and dread at the scene they’d witnessed. He couldn’t resist a cheeky smile crossing his face at the thought of the stories he could tell at the whorehouses when he got home.