Fellowship is Madness

by Imperator Chiashi Zane

Griffon a New Home, Part 1

Ferrous Talus rolled over on the mattress in his shared berth. The Airship PCA Requiem was certainly a luxurious way to travel from Asgard to Canterlot. Unfortunately, his final stop was Ponyville. He had to hop a train, and make sure he dragged his little sister along, to the job he knew was waiting. She was still sleeping, drool running out of the side of her beak. Master Bruin had promised them a place to stay as well, since there were few places, even in a town as tolerant as Ponyville, where a Griffon could eat meat without being criticized for it.

He sat up and grabbed his hat off the floor where it had fallen at some point. Out the window, he could see the clouds of Cloudsdale and the crenellations of Canterlot’s outer walls. That meant the flight was almost over. As much as he loved flying in an airship, it got very boring and a little cramped after sitting in the sealed gondola for the whole ten day flight. Slowly, Ferrous moved towards the small closet that held their saddlebags. Inside was a notebook and a pen. He tore out a sheet and scribbled a note to his sister before he slipped out into the hallway. The cool air in sank into his bones, and he hurried aft, towards the observation deck. It wasn’t open to the sky, not entirely, but it had enough space that he could open at least one wing all the way. A five meter wide room wasn’t really enough for his full seven meter wingspan, but it was enough for him to preen one wing at a time.

It was nearly three hours later that she came staggering into the observation deck, sleep still crusting her eyes, and wings all in disarray. “We’re landing in a few minutes. Get your wings cleaned up quick. I’ll get everything packed up.”

He pivoted and made his way back to the room, wings hanging limply against his back and brushing loosely along walls when he turned to unlock the door. It wouldn’t take long to get everything packed. His grooming kit consisted entirely of a feather pick and brush for his beak. Her kit had a lot more pieces in it, but she had that with her. Pillows were easy to stuff into the backpack, even if they were pretty big normally. They were designed specifically to hold a Griffon’s head comfortably, and were filled with Griffon-down feathers. Most of them his own. It was better than the pony-made pillows that tended to rip and scatter fragments of Pegasus feathers all over the room.

Next, he had to fold her blanket and stuff that into her saddle-bag. It was the single comfort item she had brought from home. He laughed. Still a fledgling at heart. The next thing he grabbed was his coat. The brown Leather dust-coat was a gift from his father on his Signing day, the day his wing-pattern came in, the black and brown lightning-bolts that indicated that he was now a full adult, that symbol of clan Talus. Over his back, slung between his leather-sleeved wings, he settled his hammer, Forge Legio. It was a comforting weight, the forty kilogram hunk of enchanted iron and bronze.

A pair of sun-shade goggles around his neck completed his garb, and he padded out into the hall with both sets of saddlebags swinging across his flanks as the ship came in for a landing.
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From the inside, the Requiem was a luxury liner. From the outside, it was a flying whale that was impossibly graceful. Impossibly fast, for an airship. It had a top speed of one-hundred and sixty kilometers a day, more than any train on Equus. And now, it was settling into the berthing fields on the east side of Canterlot with all the grace of a trained stunt flier. The ramp extended onto the thick grass with a soft thump, and the doors opened to allow passenger debarkation.

Ferrous was the third to step onto the grass, behind his sister and a brown Earth Pony stallion in a blue suit. He snagged her tail in his beak and started dragging her towards the edge of the field. They would have to catch a taxi across the city to the train-yard, unless they were going to walk the forty kilometers across the city in a day.
He hated the idea of trapping himself in a small cage on wheels strapped to a steam engine, but it was the fastest way across the city. His sister though, he wasn’t sure how she would fare. This would be the first time she had ever left the Empire, let alone ridden in Pony vehicles. She seemed somewhat twitchy around the Ponies. Sure, she had met some through the exchange program Cloudsdale had with Asgard’s flight school, but those were unique, and there was only a couple of them. Probably because most ponies couldn’t stand to see Griffons eating meat.

There weren’t very many Non-pony races wandering around in the port anyway, the occasional Griffon, an Ibex family, which he pointed out to her, and even, was that a Camel? He smiled. Canterlot was a trade hub for a reason, but Ponies were the only race that really left their own homelands for any reason other than business. Even he was a little hesitant about leaving his home for this.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by her camera flashing in his face, “You look like a tourist, sis.”
“I AM a tourist,” she smirked and snapped another picture as her brother waved for a taxi. The first one to stop was a rather large one, driven by a Griffon with his head-feathers braided in a trio of strands that hung off his neck. Pointless for flying, but stylish. They climbed in and slung their bags onto the floor.

Ferrous handed the Griffon several bits, “The trainyard, please. Quickest route.”

The Griffon smiled, “Certainly. Good to see more of my kind in this city. Especially outside the glue factories.”

The vehicle began moving, rather quickly, clipping over curb edges and squeezing through gaps Ferrous swore it wouldn’t fit through. Somehow it managed to reduce the time necessary to travel to only an hour. A sickening hour, but one that he didn’t have to walk through.

As the two staggered out of the taxi, he handed a few more bits over to the driver, “Your speed is appreciated. Thank you for the ride.”

He grabbed his sister’s tail again to drag her away from gawking at the elegantly carved sculptures on the outside of the building. Inside was even more beautiful sights, but he didn’t look at them. It was necessary for him to locate the train to Ponyville.
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The train was not nearly as luxurious as the airship, but it was good enough. The engine was a magnificent 4-8-4 with twin smoke-stacks and a crew of a dozen greasy stallions getting it ready to roll down the tracks. Double deck carriages ran back almost half a kilometer, some filled with just seats, others with berths, for those who wanted a little privacy, and even a few staterooms for those going further on this rail, like out to Manehattan.
He had just gotten a pair of seats on the upper deck, which was open to the sky at the back, so they could stretch their wings and trail them in the wind.

Boarding went smoothly, and he secured both sets of saddlebags to the deck under the seats as the locomotive started with a cloud of smoke. It roared as it began to crawl along the rails, slowly picking up speed.
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Ponyville’s trainstation was much smaller. It wasn’t so much a hub of activity as a water-stop that had grown out of farmers need. More for freight than passenger comfort. There was barely a receiving dock, and portable ladders had to be set up along fully half the length of the train to allow passengers to climb down safely.

Ferrous started looking around before he even got up from his seat, trying to spot the old Blacksmith who had offered him the job. Master Bruin Gilded Feather was among the greatest Smiths in the whole of Equus, and being invited to apprentice at his shop was a great honor.

There he was. Grey feathers tufted up in that pattern the elder Griffon always wore in the photographs he was always posing for. Ferrous dragged his sister down the stairs and out the door, making sure that his little sister didn’t bump into anypony. Not only would it be probably harmful to whomever she bumped, but she had a bit of a short fuse at the moment, after sitting for a week and a half, then getting thrown around in a taxi and dragged onto a train that somehow managed to be tall enough to clip every single cloud along the route. Ponies, with the exception of Pegasi, who didn’t normally ride trains anyway, could pass through the clouds like they weren’t there. Griffons, on the other talon, couldn’t. It was like running into an unmoving pillow, at forty kilometers an hour.

As soon as they were clear of the throng, he dragged her over to Master Bruin, who bowed deeply to them, “Welcome to Ponyville. Do you have all your bags?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Excellent, and who is this fledgling with you? I don’t recall your letter saying you were bringing a guest.”

His sister made a cheesy grin, “Gilded Talus the Third. Pleasure to meet you.”

Ferrous nodded, and Bruin pointed over his shoulder, “The Smithy’s over on the other side of town. Unfortunately, Ponyville isn’t big enough to warrant a cab service, or auto-carriage service station, so we will have to fly, or walk. I hope that isn’t too much of a burden for you two fledglings,” the Smith turned up the edge of his beak in a grin. He was only going into his eighties, but his job kept him fit enough that he never needed to hit the gymnasium. Wherever that was.

“Do you have a map of the town? Gilda probably wants to go exploring,” mainly for a gymnasium. He never understood why his sister was so devoted to her speed-training. It wasn’t like Griffons could join the Wonderbolts anyway, “And she’s going to need something to eat that isn’t prepackaged travel food. Is there any-place on the way?”

Bruin nodded and turned slightly, leading the two onto a long corridor of dirt that seemed to curve off to the west, “Welcome to Main Street Ponyville. It’s a circle, or near enough. From here, you can get anywhere else in the town. Industrial complex is in the middle of the circle, with more farming influence the further out you go. Dead center,” he pointed at a tall spire poking up in the circle of stone buildings, “Town hall. That’s where all the Legal magic happens, and also your landmark if you get lost. It stands fifteen meters tall, and is visible from the outermost edges of the Apple farm to the North, and the Cotton plantation to the South. The train-tracks mark the far East edge, and the West edge has the assorted Berry farms.” He made a left and padded up to the front of a building that looked like a giant pastry, “This is Sugarcube Corner. Owned and operated by the Cake family. They don’t serve meat here, on account of it being a pastry shop, but their cupcakes are the best thing to soothe a travel-worn stomach.”