Prompt: Attacked by the Soldiers of the Underground, Part 1

Thanks to Fantasy Scroll for some fun new writing prompts!

Darryn sipped the hot coffee that helped fuel his tired brain and wiped the last of his runny eggs with fresh sourdough bread. There was no talking at the breakfast table. Master’s rule, and Darryn had not broken it once in four years.

Master Bojdehn sipped his own coffee and studied the scroll rolled out in the air before him. With a wave of his hand, he sent it back to the study and considered his young apprentice. It was time.

“Today we will journey to Pockswold,” he said, and Darryn sloshed the coffee out of his mug, startled by his voice.

Wiping the coffee from the table, Darryn tried to hide his excitement. “What takes us there, Master?” They never went anywhere. He’d been cooped up in the Master’s keep for four years, never leaving the warded grounds. The prospect of visiting even such a pathetic blight on the map as Pockswold made him want to run out the gated doors immediately.

“We have business to attend to,” Bojdehn said shortly. He relented when he saw Darryn’s disappointment. “Master Sodrehd has sent a load of supplies too much to be magicked. So they will be waiting in the village for us to bring back.”

Darryn looked dismayed. “We have to carry it? How much will it be?”

Bojdehn laughed. “Not we, my young apprentice. Come, let us make ready.”

In four years, Darryn had learned every square inch of the entire keep. He followed Master Bojdehn into the front courtyard and stopped short, staring at the stables lining the left wall. His hand trembled slightly as he pointed. “What? Where? How?”

Bojdehn strode ahead without looking back. “All good questions, Apprentice. But we don’t have time now. On the journey, we can talk.” He opened the closest stall door and stepped back, bowing slightly.

Darryn had followed along, mouth gaping open with disbelief at the sudden appearance of the stalls. He stopped again when he noted his Master’s sudden courtesy. He took a step backward as a griffin walked out of the stall. “That…that…”

The griffin eyed him with disdain. “I am a he, not a that, thank you.” He turned to Bojdehn. “Really, my old friend, you think he is ready?”

Bojdehn eyed Darryn and stroked his jaw, as if considering. Darryn snapped his mouth shut and stood tall, trying to look more impressive than the slack-witted first impression he had already provided.

[description of the griffin here]

Continued in Part 2…

Dogs in house:	Houdini, Brindle
Time writing	~45 minutes
July word count	4,976