When the orders came in, we can only march west. I was merely a captain of a platoon at the time. My second one, recently granted to my command after I lost over half of my men at the previous battle. That battle, we were outnumbered six to one, it was good fortune that kept so many of my people alive.
This next fight... if I know what would happen, I would have resigned then and there. Nothing could compare to the Slaughter at Hildenholde.
We marched west, towards the realm of the dwarves. We marched west, to liberate their lands and gain allies in return. We, The Alliance, marched west to face Zaliek the Nightmare of Furgand, or so he was known at the time.
We had underestimated him. We had thought that the entire Eastern Legion, twenty thousand man could match Zaliek's army. We had believed that he would hold himself up in his mountain keeps, and force us to throw our bodies at their walls in vain. We had faith that we would free the dwarven lands after fifty years or so of his iron fisted rule.
We were so wrong. I had cursed the moment that I laughed in delight when Zaliek pulled his horde out to meet us on human lands. I am so ashamed of that time that I believed that he was a fool.
I was the fool. We were the fools to believed that we could have taken him, with only an army of humans.
We clashed upon the fields of Hildenholde. His fifteen thousands horde of orcs, dwarves, men and those strange mechanical machines against our twenty thousand strong Eastern Legion. It was a hellscape, a madhouse, yet we fought on, knowing that this was his army and once it was smashed, the way to the dwarf realms was as good as ours.
We were not prepared for what happened next. Like divine intervention, the cloudy skies above parted to let down rays of sunlight, as if to place their blessings upon our imminent victory. Then, like shadows of our doom, figures dropped in from that gap.
A whole swarm of the mad Metallic Dragons.
Our general and his personal squad of dragon riders, the peaceful and powerful colored ones rode up to face the new threat, his personal friend, a green dragon by the name of Erakus roaring his anger at his hated cousins above.
They never stood a chance. Swarmed from all sides, the dragons tore them apart. Hell's teeth, I even saw Erakus ripped to shreds by a multitude of his cousins, leaving his friend, our general to plummet to his death on the battleground. It was like the end of the world, the man who was prophesied to never be killed by those who wish him harm, the man we all thought to be invincible, just died from a fall.
That Butcher was a smart one, he must have told them dragons to kill the mount as the man cannot be killed. Leave him to the ground who cannot wish harm onto anyone, heh.
Speaking of his unholiness, that was when I saw him. A dark robed figure, clad in silver armor that shines so brightly in the sun and saddled upon a beautiful yet terrifying three headed dragon of bronze, silver and gold all at once. In one hand, he hold a sword that burns with unnatural orange flames, the other grasped a scepter with a black orb as dark as the night atop it. Most of all, what caught my attention was his eyes. It ain't natural. He was so far away, yet I could see his damned crimson orbs so clearly behind his visor. It ain't natural I tell you.
Then I saw the spell circle above him. It sent shivers down my spine when I noticed it and I knew there was something dangerous at that moment. So I gathered my men and went against regulations, I told them to flee.
I was too late.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him swing the scepter down and going by my gut, I leapt into the nearest trench I can find. That was how I survived, how I survived that hellscape.
From the safety of that hole, I saw the literal air rip thousands of good man and woman apart. Not even his horde had done such damage to us. Yet somehow, he did. The Butcher, with a single spell, slew over half of our army by himself while his horde finished the rest.
I do not want to see something like that ever again. That's why from the bottom of my heart, I hope the Butcher is dead for good this second time in Shadowmane Fort, and I will pray to the gods that he stay dead.
"-and a toast to the proud owner of the newly opened Inn and our generous patron, Lok!" The raven pegasi by the name of Driven Wind concluded his speech, somehow holding onto a mug of ale with a bare hoof to the utmost surprise of the Innkeeper.
Applause sounded around the Bar, or dining room as Lok would put it. It was quite a fascinating speech about unity and harmony, something that surprised Lok too as those were primarily Equestria's beliefs, while he had researched Griffonia to be a bit more on the 'martial' side. Raising his huge mug, as tall as his arm and as wide as his claw, to accept the toast, Lok made a point of downing its contents in a single swig, much to the delight of the crowd.
"And a toast to the fortunes of all of you here." Lok crowed, happily, raising his mug high. Appreciative banter burst out among the crowd and Lok turned towards the barrel on the bar, intent on refilling his mug again.
Lok was satisfied with his progress so far. Despite his lack of knowledge with regards to actually opening an Inn, he had a grasp on the basics. Furthermore, inviting everyone, or almost all of them anyway, was definitely a brilliant plan on his part. This would hence acquaint him with most of the townsfolk, and also start every relationship on a relatively good basis. During his time as a dwarf, he had learned that there was nothing better than booze to start building ties and bonds.
Also, information was always easier to procure once the booze loosen up some tongues. Did anyone know that non "pure-eyed" griffon mages were all of an order called the Purple Claw? Or that they convene with their pony counterparts, The Eye of Insight, once a year? There were two such mages of each order residing in the town now. Mental note, remember to say that I am a rogue mage. He also received quite a bit of information of the political situation too. Zudost was situated between western Griffonia and Equestria, and tensions had been running high between Western Griffonia and its Northern and Eastern counterparts due to the amicable relationship it had with the pony nation. That would explain why the guard number for a border town was so low, they've been redirected to the other borders.
Easy. Lok hummed as he tapped the barrel. Wait? It was this low already? Well, looks like he would need to refill the barrel of ale again. Thank the Traveler that he had several centuries worth of brew stored away in a pocket dimension that took him the better of fifty years to create. Each.
Snapping a finger, Lok felt a slight drain of his magic reserves. It was not enough to cause any physical deficiencies, however, it might affect his ability to hold his liquor. Well, not like it really matters anyway. Unless you count the time where he was so drained of magic that he was left at the mercy of a demigod. Said demigod trapped him in a pillow stuffed full of feathers and used it to sleep upon. Lok shivered slightly as he recalled that particular memory. It was worse than Life's forest of thorn. Those tickling feathers stroking his every— No, stop thinking about it right now. Lok told himself determinedly, he lost part of his sanity that time, he would prefer to keep it without remembering that particular piece of... never mind. Tapping the barrel again, Lok nodded in forced appreciation as the cup was filled with good dwarven ale, with a few personal twists to the ingredients in the mix. Turning the tap, Lok smiled as the frothing liquid filled the container.
"You're a mage."
Lok did not need to turn his head to know it was Gilda, yet he did it out of courtesy anyway. It was rude to not face the person you were talking to. Making a show of sampling the newly refilled ale, Lok turned to face his future tenant.
"Yes, that I am." Lok grinned, "I hope you are enjoying the party?"
"Humph, the party's great." Mumbled Gilda incoherently, only Lok's spell enhanced hearing enabling him to pick up anything. Though he was a tad disappointed at Gilda's reaction to his affirmation. His research had led him to believe that non "pure-eyes" griffon mages were a rarity. "Don't get why you are trying to make a big fuss on the first day though."
"Simple." Lok chuckled, clacking his beak as he did so. He could never get used to that. Really. "I just want to celebrate the opening of my Inn. Besides, if I count you and the mayor, the net total of personage I know here is two. This would be a good start to knowing everyone here."
"Even the ponies?" Gilda whispered, so soft that only Lok's ears could catch up what she was saying, "They're dweebs."
"No, they aren't." Lok corrected, a smile on his face as he did so. Gilda looked to rebuff his statement, but Lok held up a hand and something, just something final about the gesture made Gilda held her tongue. "But I won't pry. Your life is yours to live, your history yours to share. Though if I would offer advice, I would say that you would get along with them nicely."
Gilda snorted aloud as Lok offered his advice before turning away, the air carrying her contempt with her. Lok was not disturbed, or just slightly irritated by the fact that she walked away without refilling her mug. He had just refilled the barrel, by his own old thrice damned and probably cursed name! How rude.
Sipping from the tip of the mug, Lok smiled contentedly before saying aloud to no one in particular. "I bet that I would be hard pressed to find anything that could challenge the taste of this ale for miles."
"No, silly overlord." A pink earth pony mare with a super fluffy mane and tail of matching color admonished him, somehow balancing a large tray of elven treats he had prepared, "if you cross the sea into Equestria and take the train and stop by ponyville and ask for sweet apple acres during cider season you will find the best super duper drink that Equestria would have to offer though your drink is not bad but it is still a little too strong and it just loses out to Applejack's cider by a teensy weensy little bit and you have very nice treats by the way and can I learn how to make them from you?"
The pink pony sucked in a deep breath of air to compensate for the amount she had spent saying what she did as Lok ran over her words in his mind in slow motion. Satisfied that he understood the mare, he grinned, "Sure, I'll make sure to go and sample some of those fabled cider. Also, I don't mind teaching you how to make those treats, Miss?"
"Pinkie Pie. My friends call me Pinkie!" The mare bounced up and down, somehow balancing those treats in... Mid air?! "Here's my address card, I hope to see you soon!" She pulled out a pink slip of paper from thin air (How did she do that?) and handled it to the slightly less calm and quite disturbed Lok. "Okey dokey lokey! I'll see you! Take your time, just come when you're free!"
Lok dumbly nodded as he took in the contents of the slip of paper. It read:
Pinkemena Diane Pie/ Pinkie Pie!
Ponyville
Sugar Sweets Corner
Wait, something's wrong. Lok realized. Frowning, he tried to pinpoint the source of his unease before realizing that he had never seen that pink pony before. Not in his research, nor in his scrying of the town, nor even in his arrival in it. Looking up, he realized with a jolt that the subject in question had disappeared. Perhaps he should find her and clarify? Focusing, his mind's eye did a quick sweep of the area.
Nothing showed up.
Had he been drinking too much? Lok looked down upon the piece of paper, it was real enough to show that he was not hallucinating. A quick mental check showed that he was definitely not drunk either.
So who was that pink pony? And what had he got himself into?
Lok broke out in cold sweat as he tried to contemplate the answers to that question. He realized morbidly that he seemed to have been doing that a lot today.
"What." He choked out.
Gilda was peeved. Really, really, really peeved. How can Griffons coexist in harmony with ponies, of all things. Birds of the same feather flock together, so Griffons should stick with Griffons, ponies with ponies! Mingling would only end up in trouble, Gilda clacked her beak n frustration as she remembered her little tirade in the Ponyville. She ran murderous thoughts about those ponies that dared make fun of her in her mind, only to shiver slightly as a chill ran up her spine.
Spinning around, Gilda scanned the guests for the one that caused to feel so, before freezing at the sight of a very familiar pair of light blue eyes gazing at her from the shadow in a corner. Rubbing her eyes slightly, she gazed at it again, only this time, the corner was empty. Great, now I'm paranoid. Gilda muttered, irritated by herself.
Helping herself to some unknown but really good treats (do they make these in Eastern Griffonia?), Gilda munched appreciatively , feeling content for once that she should be able to relax.
If not for the fact that there was a pegasi mare that immediately walked up to her, a glass of ale in her hooves.
"Hey!"
Gilda ignored the bubbly looking green pegasi and focused on the tray of cookies before her.
"Hey!"
"Hey." Gilda echoed dryly. She was clearly uninterested in conversations, so get the hint already! She focused her death glare at the pony, trying to intimidate her into retreat. However, the pony was either used to such death glares or just a more pathetic dweeb than the rest of the ponies that could not understand that a Griffon did not want to mingle with them.
"You are Gilda, right?" The pegasi asked, smiling as she did so. Gilda felt a rush of irritation as the mare failed to understand her antics of one that does not wish to be disturbed. "I'm Ellie Feathers, the local bookstore owner. How do you find our town?"
"Good." Gilda grunted, her patience wearing thin already.
"That is nice. Have you found a place to stay already?" Ellie giggled, the act lighting the fuse to the Gilda patience meter.
"Yeah, Lok offered me a room at a discount."
"Really? I thought you and him are together?"
"Lok is a freak." Gilda snapped, irritated that anyone here would associate or much less imply that they were coupled or related in any other way. "A good freak, though." Gilda conceded after some thought.
"Oh, so where is he?"
"Can't you find him yourself? What are you, blind?" Gilda flexed her claws, she could feel the itch for some violence already. So this mare either see that she was in no mood, or get ready for some...
"Yes."
Gilda's thought process came to a screeching stop. Blind? What? Now that she looked at the pegasi closely, She noticed that her eyes were slightly milky, and one was slightly crossed. Oh, by the Eight Great Thanes... She just... How can she...?
"It's alright," Ellie smiled serenely, "I still can cope." Turning around, Ellie walked away, apparently searching for Gilda's landlord. Gilda, on the other claw, did not even help. How could she? Her body could not move as she contemplated what she did, and if she could ever forgive herself for that.
She could only gaze upon the back of the blind, stumbling mare.
Lok was fumbling around his thirty or so odd attempt to locate that bubble gum pink mare when he heard someone call his name. Turning around, he took in the green pegasi standing before, especially her milky white eyes. Those caught his attention, or particularly, one of those caught his attention. Not the one that was staring off to the side, but the one that was fixed upon him, as though it could do what it could not.
"You don't have to stare so much." The mare giggled, the sound so light and infectious that Lok gave in to the chuckle or two that bubbled to the top of his vocal chords.
"You're not distrubed?" Lok inquired once he got that fit under control.
"Before everyone here knows that I'm blind, I'm kinda used to the odd stares now and then."
"Blind? Pfffft." Lok snorted incredulously, "yeah right."
"But I am blind." the mare protested, frowning slightly.
"Your eyes are blind." Lok corrected, "you are not. There are more than one way to see. Even if you lose your sight, miss...?"
""Ellie Feathers." The pegasi introduced herself. There was a slight awkward pause before she added, "you're a kind griffon, Lok."
Lok flinched, a small one but it stunned him nonetheless. The pegasi likely felt it as well, as she took a step back, afraid that she had offended the host.
"I'm sorry...." Ellie began, her eyes downcast.
Confusion filled Lok, why was the Pegasi apologizing? Then, like a thunderbolt out of the blue, it hit him. Some Griffons take offense to being called kind or cute, but Lok was not one of those. He was stunned by the fact that he had been praised, something that he had experienced only rarely for centuries. It would really take some getting use to. She must have mistaken his silence for displeasure.
Well, he cannot let her know that he was not used to being praised, could he? It would make him appear weak, and even though it seemed that ruling had rubbed off on him, Lok does not like appearing weak.
"There was nothing to apologize for," Lok replied, his mind racing to find a suitable excuse for his sudden misunderstood behavior. Well, he had one, but that would create a bit too much hassle in the log run, could he find another? Nope. Looks like he would have to use that. "The way you say that I was kind reminded me of a friend I once had." It was true, but the problems with phrasing it so would lead to the problems listed below.
One, she would likely inquire him about his history, one that he do not feel ready to share. Two, she may receive the wrong impression, thinking that he was trying to make a pass at her but that would be a far fetched, if he had her figured out. Still a possibility, nevertheless. Three, that line sounded way too cheesy. Even cheesier than the speeches he had provided for any heroes that had tried to remove his head.
"I see." Or.... he could just be overthinking things.
"Once? What happened to her?"
Or not. Lok smiled grimly, silently glad that his perception skills were still as sharp as ever, before he replied. "She was a powerful sorcerer. One who learned the arts alongside me. However, one day, she met with an army protecting someone who she could not let live. So she rushed in and all that was left of her was within our memories."
"You make it sound as if you are older than you look." The pegasus muttered, suspicion tinting her words, "and I get the feeling that you are telling the truth too."
Lok was impressed by the perceptiveness of the blind mare. To be able to read so deeply into him. Not even Drogan, a supposedly powerful individual of the arcane arts of this world was able to tell that much from a more detailed and slightly twisted version of Lok's history.
"Well," Lok conceded, suddenly in a playful mood. "That was for me to know and you to find out. Besides, I believe you have a bit more questions for me to answer?"
"Um... If it would not bother you too much?"
"Splendid," Lok clapped his claws together. Then he realised something had been missing from this party the whole time. How could he have forgotten?
"How about some pie first?"