"Well well! Someone certainly enjoyed this meal's preparation," Gerardo remarked in congratulation, closing his eyes and holding a spoon to his beak. "Sweet orange curry. Thin enough to work perfectly over rice, hot enough to tickle the taste buds, and with enough chunky texture to retain character and flair. I definitely won't mind eating like this for the rest of our travels, if you're inclined to continue cheffing so."
"Sweet, huh?" Valey poked at hers, lapping it up experimentally. "Not bad. Might add some sugar to mine, though. Hey, Ironflanks! What's in this?"
"Haven't had this before," Jamjars muttered, having descended from her lair in one of the unclaimed cabins. "My mother only made things she liked. It's... interesting," she decided, chewing slowly.
"I see someone got creative in my storeroom," Shinespark announced, wiping her lips with a telekinetic napkin and then folding her forelegs behind her. "Can't use that stuff to save my life, but it looks like I've ran into someone who can. Good job, Maple. This isn't half bad."
"What is it?" Starlight asked, slowly licking hers.
"As I said, a sweet orange curry over rice bearing hints of..."
Maple's ears folded from the praise as Gerardo launched into a very repetitive explanation of the food's finer qualities, moving into the cultural origins of the ingredients and then a story that reminded him of of him doing battle in Varsidel. The only passenger not at the table was Slipstream, as she had volunteered to hold the course so Shinespark could take a break and join the meal.
Valey tipped up her bowl, shoveled part of its contents down her gullet, set it back and belched. "So, Birdo," she began, fuzzy chin and cheeks stained orange and a grain of rice stuck to her nose. "Griffonvania's a big place, right? Where exactly in it are we going?"
"Ah! A fine question." Gerardo snapped his talons, then settled for drumming them on the table as he spoke. "That will ultimately be up to our captain to decide, however, there are a few likely candidates. The closest possible destination, were we to travel perfectly and immediately east from the mouth of the Yule, is Stormhoof Fortress, a heavily armored and fortified castle city upon the coastline. It is a bright and prosperous trading post that in times of heavier naval traffic was known as the closest port to Ironridge. It is also home to a military garrison and navy whose primary task is to protect the waterways and keep them clear of pirates, freebooters and brigands, though it also is owned by one of the most influential political families and has quite a few ceremonial duties."
He took another bite, mulling ideas over. "Were we feeling in no hurry, we could press inland and make for the capitol instead. That would be even more grand, though we do possess a sizable-enough fortune thanks to our friend Kero to make our way in such a city. If you felt like touring the impressive and awe-inspiring... That said, I would completely understand if any of you were burnt out on seeing the best and busiest after Ironridge. In such a case, we would adjust our course north, and visit any of the other coastal or landlocked territories. Much of the Empire's wealth is concentrated in city enclaves built around the manors of local lords, so practically anywhere in the countryside we would be guaranteed nothing but farmland, peace and quiet. We could always visit the town of a lesser lord in a bid to maintain civilization while avoiding grandeur and trouble, though I'd have to take some time in the larger cities first myself to re-tune my understanding of who the fair and just ones are. And we can't go too far north, or we risk running off the edge of the map into uncivilized territories, and I'm supremely sure none of those here want to pursue that."
"Uncivilized territories?" Maple tipped her head in curiosity. "What do those look like?"
"Also a fair question, and I've been to them on occasion myself." Gerardo swallowed, setting down his bowl, and took a long drink from his glass. "You are familiar with the general geography of the Empire, yes?"
Maple shook her head.
"Well, it works like so." Gerardo mimed a big circle in the air with his talons, pointing to several places within. "The Empire is essentially a single valley of truly massive scale," he narrated. "Hemmed in by the southern mountains to the south, the sea to the west, and should you dare to journey far enough north, the Misty Mountains. While they are actually more of hills than mountains, especially next to Yakyakistan, an ancient and unknown magic pervades the area, perpetually shrouding it in rolling waves of fog. Thick, thin, patches in between... it affects the sky as well, making it always appear on the edge of dusk, no matter now near to noon or how cloudless the sky. Even the goddess Garsheeva's power is not enough to dispel the area, and while everyone including her insist it is part of the Empire, those lands are not a place most folk go."
Valey burped again, finally wiping a hoof across her muzzle. "Sounds just fine to me. What's there that makes them scary? A dragon, or something?"
Gerardo winked. "They are the batpony lands. Or, as they are known within the Empire, sarosians."
"Oh, really, now?" Valey pursed her lips in keen interest.
"Indeed." Uneasily, Gerardo nodded... and continued. "Of note, the clan as an official stance refuses to worship Garsheeva as a goddess and instead exalts another figure. The Night Mother, they call her, and other related titles. However, this figure refuses to come forth and present herself, despite Garsheeva existing in the public eye. A lot of griffons and ponies feel somewhat irked by this, that the sarosians remain obstinate in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. A lot of sarosians feel likewise, since even those who come south from the mountains and acknowledge Garsheeva in addition to their matron are met with unscrupulous gazes and negative-"
"Are you serious!?" Valey shot up, the smirk completely gone from her face. "The entire Griffon Empire has a thing against batponies, and you wait to tell me this until I get my hopes up that my life will somehow be different from Ironridge?" She sagged slowly back into her chair, then thunked her head against the tabletop, causing her bowl to rattle dangerously. "I hate this," she whimpered, suddenly defeated.
Maple's hooves carried her awkwardly to Valey's side, ears folded and unsure of what to do. Gently, she patted the batpony's shoulders with a hoof, looking uncertainly at Gerardo, who gazed apologetically back. He could have mentioned it earlier, but at least he was giving them ample warning to prepare or turn back... "Do we want to change our plan?" Maple murmured. "Turn around and go somewhere else? We could still..."
"No..." Valey groaned, getting her forehooves beneath her and shaking her limp head. "No. Don't mind me. The other places are still worse. Just... don't. I'll manage like I always have. Still better than being alone. Mrmmph. I always wondered if it was just me, or they had something against batponies in general..."
"...If it helps," Gerardo hesitantly began, "relations between the regions do consistently stay quite stable, and a few dirty looks are likely the worst you'll see. I've heard no rumblings whatsoever during my travels that any widespread conflict could begin."
Now it was Maple's turn to look uneasy. "That was what Arambai said sending us to Ironridge, too..."
"I'm aware." Gerardo frankly nodded. "But in this case, there is a very hefty stabilizing agent in play: Garsheeva herself consistently pardons the entire sarosian race of any and all crimes of heresy, refuses to allow developmental or military advancements or excursions on their terrain by those willing to brave the unnatural climate, demands citizenship for them regardless, and even mandates that they be allowed to place statues of their goddess around the southern side of the empire that they use to pray to and makes defacing or stealing those statues a heretical offense. In short, it is impossible to declare holy war in the name of Garsheeva without also denouncing her and incurring her wrath, and the sarosians to the north are generally content to be left alone. Any trouble that could occur would be limited to you and you alone, likely due to stupid and unprepared opponents, and I hear you're exceptionally difficult to get the jump on."
"Heh. Yeah." Valey wiped her eyes. "Might at least get some good meatbagging in if I get jumped by thugs who have no idea what they're messing with. Still stinks. But oh well. I'll manage."
Maple touched her shoulder again, offering a supportive smile.
"One thing that doesn't make sense, though." Valey fixed Gerardo with a look. "This Night Mother is the Mare in the Moon, right?"
Gerardo blinked. "I can't say I've heard that connection, myself."
Valey snorted. "If it's the same thing who my local lore says created batponies, what are these chumps getting themselves in hot water for when she never even cared in the first place? My village sure didn't have anything to say about her that was worth being persecuted for. She makes your race. Makes you look all edgy and spooky and untrustworthy, and stuff. And she's a monster who lives on the moon, and doesn't even bother to keep you company here in the world." She shook her head. "But that's always sounded kinda ridiculous, to be honest. Never believed it myself. So maybe these sarosians have the real version, and she's not as much of a jerk as I've heard. Might be kinda nice..."
Gerardo helplessly shrugged. "All I'm aware of is that at night, they claim their special statues allow them to hear her voice and receive guidance and encouragement. However, as far as anyone else is aware, they are inert hunks of rock. Who can say?"
"Meh." Valey folded her limbs again. "I don't even care anymore. More curry? Might as well try to drown my sorrows in food and sugar..."