//------------------------------// // Æclypse- The Sellsword [part 1] // Story: Tales of the Unforgiven // by HeatseekerX51 //------------------------------// The first time I ever saw a griffin, it tried to tear my throat out. After my exile from Thule and Equestria, I wandered to the east coast of the continent, where I found passage to lands across the sea. I had taken with me a goodly portion of my personal treasure, and at the Northern Straits in the northwest corner of Equestria, it was not difficult to find a ferrymane willing to take me across. “Come a long way to go nowhere.” He said to me as he took my coin. At the time there was not much by way of civilization that far north, save for scattered small settlements and homesteads on the fringes of habitable earth. Dressed as I was in a thick cloak that covered my body and hooded my head, I was hardly an out of sight thing to be found in this place. “And I’ve got far longer to go.” Was my reply. We crossed the water in silence, brooding under my cloak through the mist that hovered thick above the surface. The Pegasus guided the boat through the fog by memory, gripping the stern and peering keenly. At the shore he bid me farewell, and I continued my journey in whatever direction whim and chance took me. For some weeks I traveled, sleeping where it suited me, and keeping my solitude generally unbroken. I had not bathed, I had not groomed, I had not rested a whole night through since I left the gates of my home. When I entered the village of Yardling, I was struck by the poverty of it. The town consisted of little more than a collection of hoof-built houses, for which the term shack might have been more apt. About 20 families inhabited them, farmers, a few craft workers, all of them living to subsistence but making a noble effort to better things. A mill churned on the river the coasted by the western side, the pinnacle of the equipment to be found. Instead of just one type of pony, I found a fair number of all three tribes living together. I even saw a few mixed couples, something that never happened in Thule. Being a noticeable stranger, I garnered stares and whispered speculations as I walked through, mothers held their foals a little closer. I felt not the need to make myself a bother to them, and intended to be on my way quickly. It had begun to rain earlier, and by then puddles littered the streets. Going past a shack that sold about a dozen pieces of vegetables, the Earth Pony mare behind the counter ducked down to hide behind when I turned to look at her. “Why do you hide from me?” I spoke, stopping. “Why do I frighten you so?” “Please stranger,” She quivered, “Please do not rob us, we have so little as it is.” “Rob you?” The notion wounded me, that I would prey on these humble folk. “You have never met me before, what makes you think I’m here to steal from you?” She peeked her face up just barely enough to get a look at me. “We have had to live with raiders the past few months. They come and they threaten us into giving them food and coin.” “I’m sorry to hear that, but why would you think I have anything to do with them?” “They come in cloaks, like the kind you wear now.” Coming out fully, I saw that she wore a tan scarf around her head, a mess of blond mane framed a pale blue face. “I do not mean to offend, but we have all been so terrified of their return.” For a few moments I stared back at her, debating whether or not to inquire further about the raiders. Extracting a few bits from my satchel that hid under my cloak, I tossed them on the counter and picked-up an apple from where it sat among the other produce. “Thank you.” She said sweetly as I left her behind. I spent the night in the hillsides that overlooked the village, making a shelter for myself under the numerous pine trees that grew there. It continued to drizzle into the evening, so I was soon accompanied by a small fire to keep me warm in the night chill. I skewered the apple on a sharpened stick, and let it roast a bit, like my mentor Wiglaf had done so often while we camped for training. What would become of me now if I had chosen a less hearty lifestyle? As a prince I could have chosen more comfortable pastimes than leading warriors into battle. But as much as my heart longed for poetry and philosophy, I knew that I could not be the King of Thule without hardening myself to combat and climate. Not that I would be king of anything now. Taking a bite, I let the warm juices flow down my chin as I watched the trails of smoke rising from the homes of the ponies below. Here and there one could see the light of the hearths in the windows, and I imagined the small families with next to nothing gathered together. Growing up as I did in a castle, surrounded by the wealth of my heritage, it made me think about the folk in Equestria’s southern lands, and how they got along in their daily lives. Was I too stubborn, I wondered, when Celestia tried to break through my pride, and see the virtues of how she governed the lowlands? Perhaps that effort was the fault of my own visions of a greater future for Thule, perhaps she thought I was going to be different from my fathers. Perhaps she should have left well enough alone. I was settling down on my side when I heard a commotion. Trotting through the trees, there was below me on the outer rim of the village, a farm. What looked to be a single room dwelling surrounded by a fence with space for gardens, was under the moonlight a scene of trouble. “No! Please!” I head a stallion yell. Taking cover in some brush that overlooked the situation, I saw an Earth Pony being dragged out of his home by a large cloaked figure. What I presumed to be his wife and child hovered in the doorway, watching on in despondency. “Don’t take our bits! Without them we will starve!” The father of the family clung to the rear leg of whoever the disguised figure was, as he made to join a comrade who waited at the fence. “Bugger off!” The mystery raider barked, kicking the stallion in the jaw and knocking him off. “You’re lucky we’re only taking your few skinny bits! Next time we might decide to take something a lot more precious to you!” I was too far away to discern much detail, but even a that, I could see the mother instinctively pulling her foal in-between her legs for protection. My eyes narrowed and my hoof ground into the dirt as I considered what the threat entailed. The thief joined his companion and together they scampered off into the woodline, snickering and frolicking like it was all just a fun game. Back at the farm, the father of a general pale blue complexion resigned himself to lay miserably in the mud, defeated and humiliated in front of his family. The wife came out to him, never minding the rain that soaked her mane, and helped him to stand. His head continued to hang down. It was then I resolved that this would be a long night. Extinguishing my fire, I set out to track the thieves, starting where they had entered the wood, and tracking them from there. I fell back onto the training I had received from Wiglaf, and Nordschild, how to track a quarry and move quietly about it. For over and hour I had to work, cursing myself for wasting the time to go back to my camp. Fortunately, the damp ground betrayed their tracks, and I was able to use a soft light from my horn to follow them. The temperature drop had not faltered, and the longer I searched the more soaked and chilled it made me. But I was determined not to let these arselings get away with their crime, and thanked the gods for being born a son of Thule. At last the tracks came to an end, which did not please me in the slightest, for they had stopped rather abruptly in the middle of nowhere. I glanced about, my breath rising from my muzzle like smoke from a dragon’s, wafting in the soft breeze. I tried to think of any fault I may have made, and worried that I had not just lost them, but that I had blundered into an unknown forest and lost myself. A few of the stars were visible to me through the clouds, and as best I could, orientated myself to the constellations. I knew I had gone east to arrive here, and only needed to detect a westerly direction to save me. Had I misjudged a trail? Was I now only a few steps away from where the tracks began anew? I was about to try my luck, when something dropped down on top of me. The sound of flapping wings and a bewildering amount of motion confounded my senses, causing the attacker and I to tussle through the bushes for several paces. I felt sharp claws latch onto my throat as we came to a stop, I on my back and my assailant astraddle me. A piercing cry filled my ears, and at last I realized why I had lost the trail. For the first time in my life, I was meeting a griffin. Suddenly the tales of Thule’s alliance with the Pegasus against them were legend no more. “You shoudn’a come into our woods big fella.” He muttered. “’Cause now I’m gonna hafta- GUNF!” I struck him in the beak with a fore-hoof, knocking him off. Reflexively I rolled onto my hooves, keeping low. Behind me, I head the rustle of branches, and turned just in time to see his partner descend from the boughs, talons poised to attack. Without hesitation I fired a blast of magic at him, and while he was able to roll out of the way, he took the brunt of the larger second shot full in his chest. The first lesson of fighting an opponent faster than you, is to make them go where you want them. The second griffon was thrown back into the trunk of a tree, where he smacked against it with a bone-crunching thud. The old books spoke of their light frame that allowed them to be such agile fliers. He fell to the ground in a heap. Returning to the one who had pounced on me, I brought a hoof down on one of his talons, grinding it with a stomp. He screamed, and it was then I noticed the pouch tied to the belt of his cloak. I took it away with my magic, and pinned him down on his back. “You will leave these ponies alone.” I growled. “Or I will pry your wings off and beat you senseless with them.” He looked up at me, and our eyes met. In another time in my life, I might actually be curious to learn more about him, how their society worked, if they all looked the same. But in the heat of the moment, with my heart pumping and my fury kindled, I had no more care for my first encounter with his kind other than to instill the fear of the gods into him. I don’t think he quite knew what to say, because the look in his face was that of disbelief, like no pony had ever talked to him like that. Of course, no pony probably ever had. Putting a hoof on his chest, I let him feel the weight behind it press down on him, and I felt his ribcage bend. “Alright! Alright!” He cried. “I get the point!” “See that you do.” Taking my hoof off, I released him from my magic. “Go collect your friend and scurry back to your roost.” He scrambled over without another word, and slung the other one onto his back, carrying him off to wherever they nested. As my palpitations slowed, the sting of where the talons had pricked my neck was distracting. I was reminded how in the stories, the griffins had worn steel talons in battle, to rip and tear into the armor of their opponents. I’d hate to imagine what that kind of carnage must have looked like up close. It was a short while until I returned to the village, all were well asleep by now. I slid carefully up to the farm from earlier, and found that the door was locked tight. At my testing of the latch, I heard a few stifled noises from inside, hushes and things being moved. “Hearken then.” I said in a low, calm voice. “Wait a minute, then come to the door, where you shall receive what was stolen from you.” I put down the coin purse I recovered from the griffin, adding to it a few of my own bits, and placed it in the crevice where the door met the frame. I backed away until I was at the gate, then turned and trotted of into the woods. Returning to the place where I had watched from before, I caught the moment when the door cracked ajar, the bag was grasped, and the door quickly shut. I allowed a tight smile to break my steadfast misery, believing I had done a good deed. The campsite was undisturbed in my absence, and after a little work the fire was rekindled. Night had been cut in half by my little excursion, but I was satisfied with the compromise. For a minute or two I stared up at the stars, thinking about how far I had come, and whose other eyes might be looking up to them. Briefly, in my heart, I felt as though she were doing the same thing I was, after all, it was her duty. Nestling into the roots of a tree, sleep found me quickly. It would make for a fine story, if I told you that I awoke in the morning to the rousing call of some great task, or in mysterious communion with the gods. Alas, I awoke the next morning to an itch that covered my backside and nearly drove me into a fit. Ants, I discovered, infested the fur of my back, making a home for themselves inside my cloak. I tore it away and threw myself to the ground like a worm and writhed in irritation, groaning and whimpering. The better part of an hour passed by before I managed to make the sensation bearable, and came to the conclusion that I may not have made such an inviting host if I had simply bathed in the past few weeks. Taking my cloak in magic, I headed down to where the river exited the hills, and jumped into the water, cloak and all. I scrubbed both my garment and myself on the stones, washing grime and the small biting insects out of us. To be immersed in the clear, cool stream again was invigorating, a reminder of similar times in Thule. I finished my bath and hung the cloak on a branch back at camp to dry. As for myself, I shook out as much I could and let the rest air dry. A noise from my gut told me that it demanded to be fed, and I was of a mind to agree. Like my journey over the water, a layer of fog stood over the forest floor, creating an eerie landscape as I searched my surroundings for any thing that might be edible. The rain had ceased while I had slept, and while the ground was muddy, the clear sky let Celestia’s sun reach everything with it’s warming rays. Some berry bushes were a pleasant find, as was a surprisingly sweet grouping of blue flowers. My habit of late would have me moving on my way from here, simply continuing my exile along the road. But I was still curious as to the state of the village, and perhaps seeing me without the cloak would endear me to them slightly. So I decided to head back down, and perhaps learn something of the area. If nothing else I could purchase some more provisions for the road. The scream of a child, shrill and piercing turned my head around. It had come from the town, cutting through the fog like an arrow. I raced back to my overlook and discovered the village in tumult. From every house and hut, cloaked griffins were herding the ponies into the center square at spear point. Tossing them out of their homes and into the muddy streets, what looked like 30 of the gang had them surrounded. It dawned on me that this must be some kind of reprisal for what I had done to the two last night. My arrogance to act without forethought put these innocent ponies in danger, all this strife was my fault. “Go on! Get moving!” One of the beaked brigands screeched. Under the clear day they dropped the hoods, revealing their avian crowns. The one who had given the order had the look of a raptor, a short sharp beak snapping at their hocks. “Into the center!” The centerpiece of the village square was a simple well for bringing up ground water. Perched on the little roof that protected it, was their leader I surmised by the way he watched all the others at their work. Charcoal feathers and fur, and the more pronounced beak of a scavenger, he sat with his head nestled into his shoulders glancing side to side. I moved from where I was, sliding down the hillside and moving to cover behind a small house to peer around the corner. All the griffons having driven the towns ponies into a crowd around the well, they perched on the rooftops and other high-spots to keep watch on them. The leader stretched his neck upwards, giving the impression of an ominous figure looming over them. “It seems we have a bit of a problem.” He said, as calmly as if he were remarking on the weather. “Somepony…. Took it upon themselves to have a bit of a row with a few of my boys last night. Seems they disagreed with their method of extracting tribute. Now, I told you ponies once before, thinking it would be enough, that we will never tolerate you striking back at one of our flock. It appears I was wrong however, and that you need an example of what happens when you decide to upset the natural order!” The dark griffin leapt from his perch, and seized an adolescent mare in his talons and taking her into the air in a single swoop. The crowd reacted in horror, and a few of them had to hold back a unicorn stallion who tried to reach out to her. His daughter, apparently, shook like a leaf in the wind, hooves over her eyes, she squealed and sobbed. “Pay very close attention!” The leader squawked from where he flapped in place a dozen and a half paces above the ground, directly over the pointed roof of the well. “And let this be a lesson to any more ponies who think they can stand up to us!” When the griffin released her, my perception of time slowed to a crawl. I am not certain why this occurs in certain conditions, perhaps it’s the adrenaline focusing the mind to stimuli, perhaps there’s some mechanism of the gods at work. Whatever the case may be, my body moved absent my command, my mind locked on the girl. Her eyes popped open, and seeing her fate below, screamed. The ponies gasped in shock, even her father too stunned to react in time. And I realized there was no way I could get to her in time.