I was a mere prospector then, one who examines the value of precious stones. My ideas at that time were all decried by the guilds as the ravings of a madman and a lunatic. However, that all changed once I received an invitation from the Kingdom of Fargund, under the rule of the then rising, and later infamous, Lord Zaliek of the Ruby Gaze.
Yes, I talk about Zaliek the Golemlord. The elves called him Witchlord, and gave him a place among the Fourteen Great Evils after the Millennium War. The humans called him The Butcher ever since he wiped out the Eastern Kingdom’s armies in his conquest of their lands. We dwarves speak of him as The Nightmare of Furgand, and remember him as the greatest sorcerer amongst the dwarves despite his deeds.
Yet, as much as I hate to admit it, that invitation was start of the changing of my fortunes, my crowning moment that led to me being the Grand Prospector of the Dwarven Miner League.
It took me weeks to reach the Kingdom of Fargund from its ill-fated neighbor kingdom, Mal Grost. Yet I finally reached my destination, my hands grasping the parcel that was the fruit of my past labors. It did not take long for the guards of the Kingdom to return to me, motioning to me to enter the room where the Lord Zaliek resides.
I was in awe of the lord at the time. It was not often that lord not of the ruling house of the land to even manage to hold his realm together. Lord Zaliek appeared to be one of those exceptions. The tales say that he and a band of dwarves happened upon an undiscovered mine with a rich vein of precious stones and claimed it as their own. However, the lord of the realm nearby, wishing to claim the mine for his own, led his retinue and army to wrest it from Zaliek and his friends. They failed, and after some time, the dwarves of that rich vein of stones became the lords of the realm.
I would have to be lying if I said that I do not admire him at the time. What I saw surprised me more.
The council room was practical and lacking in any form of luxurious decorations. There was only a round table that could hold sixteen dwarves within it and even then only five of those were filled.
They were Zaliek, Duron, Fimriel, Mona and Jubros, the council of Fargund. They studied me most intently before Zaliek did something that even now was a rarity among dwarven culture.
He invited me to dine with them.
It was an honor, yes it is weird to be saying that of him now, to dine with the rulers of the realm, an honor I most certainly did not deserve at the time. However, at their insistence and the some subtle hints of serving rare and expensive vintages, I had no reason to refuse.
The feast was lavish, and I say that even then, the rulers of Fargund know how to treat their guests. Those of high ranking did not impose themselves upon others, and not even their ruler does the same to anyone. The fact that he sat at the same level as the others, that they sat on the same level as any other dwarves should be obvious to any dwarf that they view their people as equals.
After we dined, Zaliek proposed for me to present my unfinished product, the Magic Stone Canisters (MSC) that I have invented some time before the Millennium War. Immediately I know after some questioning that each of them were the experts I would have needed to construct my accomplished product. Duron possessed a wealth of knowledge concerning the geology of the land, Fimriel and Mona were experienced engineers, Jubros was a prospector much like I am, and as everyone likely knows, Zaliek was a most accomplished dwarven magus.
I was ecstatic at the time, talking to people who questioned not my lunacy, not my sanity but my methods and my product, how I would go around building it and what purpose did I intend for it to fulfill, even offering suggestions to perfect it. It was been one of the brightest moments of my life, and still was, solely due to the fact that after some discussion, the five merely nodded at one another and Zaliek announced to me that I would be the council’s prospector. He even hinted to me of a future job as Chief Prospector of the Kingdom if I succeed in my endeavors, a post granted to me after the completion of the MSC.
I still remembered that moment now. Duron’s hearty laughter, Fimriel giving his oath to ensure that the product would be completed, Mona’s sparkling curiosity in her bright blue eyes, Jubros chugging down a barrel of ale to mark the occasion… and Zaliek’s pleased expression, a genuine smile upon his face as he congratulated me on my appointment, his crimson eyes brimming with mirth.
Even now, I still hoped that the smile was real at the time. I still hope that the Zaliek then was a different dwarf. For at the moment, I would never have thought the lord of Fargund to become what the world sees him as now, or the wondrous yet terrifying plans he concocted with the MSCs.
Excerpt from Grand Prospector of the Dwarven Miner League, Gimmol's interview in The Fourteen Great Evils: The Golemlord
Gilda did not know whether to be irritated, impressed, or just plain up angry at her traveling companion. Ever since she had agreed to guide Lok to the town of Zudost, she had found herself the victim of a constant barrage of questions. Of course, Lok had assured her that he would intrude on her personal matters so long she make it known to him when the subject was brought up but it was still aggravating nonetheless. It was as though he had been locked up for a few thousand years and just came out, but judging from his pattern speech, it appears that that option could be thrown out of the window, figuratively speaking.
"So Equestria had only recently regained their Princess of the Moon?" The yellow griffon pressed in his search for information.
"Yes." Gilda searched the skies for patience, this piece of information was only a months old at least! What sort of cave did Lok lived in? This piece of information apparently caught so many people's attention that it was still circulating since it was broadcasted. Gilda shook her head to rid herself of any of the dizzying thoughts. It was fine, just call him a freak and the headaches will all go away. That had been pretty much the vibe she had received from the other griffon. Well, apart from the one time when Gilda threatened to visit violence upon him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, lass." Lok had said, his red eyes narrowing cruelly. Gilda had backed off then from the wave of malice that the Griffon had then exuded, only for the moment to pass as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving her to wonder if it had merely been a figment of her imagination. She was still wondering about it now, and the longer she gazed at Lok's calm demeanor, the more she became convinced that it was less of her imagination and more that Lok was a unhinged griffon who somehow kept his marbles most of the time.
"You know?" Gilda muttered exasperatedly, her voice just loud enough for Lok's ears, "this are all quite recent news. What kind of Tartarus did you crawl out of to not even know of the biggest event in the last month?"
Lok seemed to seriously contemplated the question, much to Gilda's surprise as she had only meant it as a passing remark, then he smiled and nodded. "There was once a being," Lok announced in a conspiratorial manner, "he had been called forth to be part of a group. An organization who was asked to restore balance to the world. To that manner, this person crafted a plan with his fellows. He had enjoyed his role at first, but after a long, long time, he had grown tired of the endless cycle. Bored with conversing with the gods and kings who wish to undermine him and his fellows. Tired of the thousands of heroes who face him and failed. In the end, his only motivation for staying was to see the scheme come to fruition. And so, when all was done, the being searched for a new home and transformed himself permanently to suit his surroundings." Smiling gently as though it was the best part of his life, the griffon continued. "Then he plunged across the Planes of Existence, leaving his past behind forever for a new beginning."
Gilda stared at the griffon before her. "You're mad." She declared, sounding as though Lok had lost all hope at life.
"Nah," Lok grinned, the smile feeling all the more manic the more Gilda looked at it, "not fully, anyway. Besides, if you'd seen the things I'd seen and did the things I did? You probably won't end up as fortunate and well off as I am, lass."
"The name's Gilda." A tone of warning touching her words.
"Apologies," Lok dipped his head, smiling regretfully as he did, "old habits die hard, it seems."
Only through the fact that he seemed sincere did Gilda feel mollified by his apology. "So," Gilda said, feeling conversational again, "what are you up to in Zudost?"
"An Inn," replied Lok as he casually skimmed around a rock that jutted out of the pathway before resuming his pace, "I need a nice change of pace from all the action, but I also want to be able to do something while I am at it. I think opening an Inn, a small one, would suit me greatly. Going to need to buy a large house though, one big enough to hold at least three tenants."
"You got the money to buy a house?" Gilda asked incredulously, she had expected him to be a traveler, not a person lugging his entire fortune around, which was highly unlike, considering he had only a standard traveling sack on his back of probably the same make as her own, and a satchel that seemed as though it was used to hold a single book. Then again, it was not uncommon for anyone to send their money to the aforementioned town first and complete the transaction. Unless... he was carrying bars of gold and heaps diamond in that sack right now...
"I sense that that was a rhetorical question," Lok looked down the hill upon which they have arrived, "and I believe that that's the town whereupon we wish to settle."
He continued walking down the path, seemingly unaware that Gilda had stopped momentarily in contemplation. Assuming that the latter was true, Gilda thought, then that would mean that he was indeed carrying his life's fortune with him. Enough fortune to buy a house and start an Inn with all the required supplies. Gilda clacked her beak thoughtfully, her desire and greed rose momentarily, asking her to mug him and make away with his belongings. Yet she managed to quell those desires. Lok had done nothing to gain her enmity, and had also proven to be a pleasant, if not eccentric and weird company. Furthermore, he was going to start an Inn, with any luck she could perhaps rent a room for a discount...
Wait a minute, she never told him that she was planning to settle in Zudost... did she?
Thane Drogan was a mighty griffon. In him flows the blood of the General Whitefeather, one of the legendary founders of Griffonia and whose blood were widespread among majority of the Griffons nowadays through their white head feathers and brown fur. However, Drogan was different, he was an albino. His fur was as white as snow and as such, there were many who would look down upon him for not being able to carry the blood of Whitefeather within him.
Yes, would have. For unlike other albinos, or Griffons for that matter, Drogan possessed a trait only a few have. His green eyes had no irises, a mark of one favored among those who carry the blood of Lady Victoria. These are those who would excel at Spellcraft among the Griffons, tried and proven, and it was once said that they were the only ones among all of Griffonkind permitted to practice magic, which was plain ludicrous. Furthermore, it was those with such eyes that would be granted the title of 'Thane' by one of the three Kings of Griffonia. A being with great vision who would lead his people to safety and protection.
Drogan snorted internally at the last description. He did not believe it for a moment more than he believed that Dragons need not feed upon gems. The will to protect, to foresee and to lead lies with the individual, and not if they possess the so called 'pure-eyes'. He had believed that argument weak the day he had learned that there were other Griffons who could practice magic as any of the 'pure-eyes' could. Nevertheless, he was granted the town of Zudost by his King, and he would protect it from any kind of danger.
That was why he always felt the need to interview any personage who wish to move to his town. You never know if a particular rival decided to plant a spy in your town and start messing things up Drogan thought as his eyes skimmed over the form filled in by the second applicant of the day.
"So... Mister Lok?"
"That'll be me, Thane."
The yellow Griffon in front of him, one most definitely of the Desert breed, seemed the decent sort. He had been extremely courteous and completely neutral in his stance on the politics of Griffonia, sometimes even displaying a lack of knowledge in some fields, though that was quite commonplace among citizens of the Griffonia. Of course, that could just mean that he was a good actor but such skills would mean that he was a very expensive one. And Drogan could think of none of his rivals being willing to even spend the coins to hire someone to just mess with a Thane's town on the border of Griffonia. It would much more easier and cheaper to send a raiding party, one much larger than the last two the town fought off.
Furthermore, what disturbed Drogan was how honest Lok had been.
The form says that he was a Griffon from the Eastern Borders of Griffonia who wished to open the first ever Inn in his town, Zudost. He claimed to be an accomplished mage, a Equestrian term for Spellcaster, and was also an accomplished brewer. It did not miss Drogan's attention that two of these vocations were essentially non-existent in his town. Very suspicious.
"It says here that you were once a mage, a mercenary mage, to be precise." Drogan continued, "May I know how far your training had progressed in Spellcasting?"
"Yes, you may." Lok smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Though I must say that the conversation had left my throat rather dry, and I would imagine, yours too."
"I concur," Drogan had been talking for at least two hours now and being thirsty would not help him—where did the two glasses come from? Drogan's eyes narrowed as he beheld the two glasses filled with a purple liquid atop his table. Looking up at the only figure that could be possible of such a feat, a thousand different thoughts raced through the Thane's mind. However, the most prominent one was that he had not sensed any spellwork, or any trace of it, for that matter. He may not be the best spellcaster in the kingdom, but he was no mere magician either. Furthermore, for a Griffon not even possessing the 'Pure-eyes' to be able to outmatch him, suffice to say that Drogan had never met one to exhibit such an ability.
"Have a drink, Thane Drogan." Lok proffered one of the cups, "you would find it most refreshing."
Drogan looked suspiciously at the purple liquid within the cup. "You'll forgive me for my suspicion." He waved a talon across the cup, a green aura permeating it. He was pleased, unsurprised and a mite relieved that he could detect no poison within the drink. It was one of the first spells he had trained to perfection, so if he could not detect any poison, there's no poison.
Lifting the cup up to his beak, Drogan found the drink surprisingly refreshing. What had began as a courteous gesture so as to please the one who offered him the drink soon evolved into a short and quick consumption of the contents of the mug. Clacking his beak in a satisfied manner, Drogan gave his guest an appreciating smile.
"I admit that if that was the quality of your brew," sighed Drogan contentedly, "I'm very tempted to just forgo the interview."
To be defeated by a drink, how pathetic. However, he still had standard procedures to follow. "Unfortunately, you had also just revealed yourself as a spellcaster of great power. I hope you understand that we have some protocols that need to be followed, Mister Lok."
"Understood," Lok waved his hand, and now, Drogan could feel the magic at work as the purple liquid appeared in the cup once again. "Have another cup of The Purple Maiden, Thane Drogan, consider it an introduction to my Inn's sevices."
"I dare say, you may find me at your place more often than not each night," Drogan grinned fiercely, his mind also contemplating the fact that Lok had just brandished magic before him again. However, there was no cause to doubt Lok, though he would have to be watched very closely. "I would say that you would be approved of local residence like Lady Gilda before you. Though we might have a tad more papers to fill out according to the fact that you are a mage and also seeking to purchase a house..."
"Well, I propose we get it done and over with then?"
"Indeed," Drogan stood up and approached a stack of drawers to his right. Sliding them open and closed smoothly, Drogan pulled out the relevant paperwork that the situation requires. By the time he was done, the stack was roughly two thirds his height and Drogan relished the thought of telling the mage before him that he would require the papers to be filled in by hand.
If the twitching eye on Lok's calm features was any indication, Drogan was sure that this would be quite entertaining.
Lok got his revenge, sort of. Flexing his cramped right talon repeatedly to rid it of its numbness, he curse the fact that he could not do anything when the Griffon Thane, Drogan, had purposely pulled out a bunch of redundant forms that 'Standard protocol demands it be filled' , to put it in that Griffon's words. Not to mention that he takes sadistic pleasure in the discomfort of others having to fill in those forms manually for nearly an hour straight.
Well, Lok had unsettled him by merely lovingly asking for the details of those particulars presented and had filled out most of the forms' requisite to very vivid specifications while leaving others detailed but ambiguous in meaning. The Thane's feathers had been ruffled when he found himself obligated to answer each and every single question Lok gave. The yellow griffon have had no doubts that Drogan's feathers would be ruffled further if he ever had to read those forms. Sure, it may not ever happen but Lok would most definitely savor Drogan's reaction when he felt the need for those information.
Oh yes, he shall savor it most sweetly.
Striding out of the Thane's office-cum-home, a quaint two-storey stone cottage that had most definitely seen some tender-loving care, Lok was slightly annoyed to see that Gilda had fallen asleep on a nearby bench, clearly enjoying the shade provided by the shadow of the tree hanging over it. He was half tempted to leave her slouching in the afternoon sun, if he did not have a debt to settle.
"Lass," Lok poked the prone form of Gilda awake, "it is done." The fact that she did not take long to rise brightened Lok's disheartened spirit. At least he did not have to play grandfather to her for ten minutes, the last time he did that as Zaliek the dwarf, he nearly got his beard scorched off by dragonfire.
"So what now?" Gilda prompted, rubbing the sleep off her eyes, "you off to open your Inn?"
"Yes." The thought of finally settling down brightened up Lok's spirit far more than any torture of a hated foe could. Beaming contentedly, Lok continued, "It's a fine place, owner passed away and left the property to the town. All I needed to do was sign some papers." Some is an understatement. "and pay up. Simple."
"Right... So when would it be up?"
Lok blinked in surprise, was she hinting that she needed a place to stay? Perfect! He did not even need to suggest the idea to her! He would still need to offer her a discount, however, to do so otherwise would not let him live out his remaining millennium in relative peace and good conscience. "Probably by evening? I should have everything ready by then."
"Yup, that's good news. I'd need a place to stay the night. What's the fee?"
Right where I want her. Flashing a grin at Gilda, Lok placed his offer. "I'll let you in the first night for free, though I'd don't mind offering you a discount for subsequent stays in exchange for your help today."
"There's more to this, isn't there?" Gilda probed, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Honestly? There were none, but one does not merely stop being a villainous overlord overnight. Shrugging casually, Lok gave her a not-so-reassuring smile. "Well, I only know one person here. I need a tenant or else my Inn would literally only consist of me. Furthermore, I require more information on the land. Need I go on?"
Lok mentally noted the fact that the wariness in Gilda's eyes had faded away as she flexed her wings. "Right, so you got loads of selfish reasons for this, right?"
"Indeed, but I got a debt to settle and you got a place to stay. And I can assure you this deal would benefit both of us greatly."
"Right, the only ones you can trust are those who admit that they want something." Gilda spat distastefully, clawing at the ground as she remembered a certain unpleasant incident involving her only friend just two weeks ago. "Where was this place, anyway?"
"A cozy three storied building," Lok replied, "it'd be a bit rundown so I'll need some time for renovations first. Why don't you run along? I'll go look for you the moment I'm done with it."
"How do I know if you'll come look for me?" Demanded Gilda, her voice with a touch of accusation in it.
"Lass, you're my first customer, remember?"
"My name's... nevermind." Sighed Gilda, apparently dismissing it as a lost cause. "Would you mind telling me the directions to it from here?"
"The Thane said it'll be right down this street," Lok gestured down the main route of the town, "and it'll be at the first right turn. It'll also be the first Inn ever opened in the town, so it'll be hard to miss." Lok ended his sentence with pride, who wouldn't?
"Right." Gilda nodded and began strolling off, calling over her shoulder as she moved. "Just remember our deal!"
"Oh, I will."
It had been two hours since Gilda had left the company of Lok, and she had to say that she felt a sense of relief as she had done so. Of course, it had been raining cats and dogs since, just as the freak predicted... How had he known that this would happen.
Anyway, so here she was, waddling through the rainstorm and it was most definitely not her idea of a first day. However, at least she had managed to secure a job interview with the local delivery service , who happened to be surprisingly understaffed. Only a net total of three griffons were working the rounds each day. Gilda was surprised and pleased at the lack of ponies, who often run their stereotypical pony jobs, but when she had inquired, the griffon told her that as Zudost was a border town, the Griffon to Pony ratio were largely equal. As such, it was mandatory that some Griffons to take over pony jobs, else there would not be enough job spaces around to be filled by ponies alone. The female griffon had also smiled ruefully as she said that while Zudost was probably the only place in Griffonia where ponies would not be discriminated, there was still some troubles from more 'local' elements. Gilda had blinked for awhile before catching on to what she meant. Not that she actually cares.
Well, more job spaces means that so long she played her cards right, she would be able to have a source of income to pay off Lok's supposedly discounted lodging fee.
Turn right here, he said it would be hard to miss. Thought Gilda back to her last conversation with Lok. That usually means that if it was finished, it would be easy to notice. If it was not, then she could easily find the house that was being worked on. She took the right turn and then stood stock-still, her brain almost incapable of comprehending the bizarre sight.
Well, to say that it would hard to find would definitely be an overstatement. Unless one could call a building wreathed in a dark red glow with the words 'Future Inn under Renovation' floating above it not an obvious enough sign. Spying the crowd assembled in front of the house, Gilda shook her head, a gnawing thought tugging at her.
She'd a feeling that she would regret this.