//------------------------------// // New Deal // Story: Gryphon Greed is Good // by Snuffy //------------------------------// Midnight in Hildburg was somber, apart from two sources of noise: the waves pushing through the opening between the cliffs and onto the sandy beach below, and the inn that catered to pony patrons. It was the sole building with its lights still on, and from it, sea shanties and laughter echoed across the town. Luna had asked Captain Keen why the sailors were celebrating so fiercely. Granted, they’d delivered their cargo as ordered, but so far as Luna knew, they were now trapped inside a blockaded gryphon city far from home. The captain explained that the sailors had been languishing on half pay after their ships were ordered to remain docked in Manehattan, but there existed a caveat in their contract saying that if they were ever stuck in a foreign port, they would be given full compensation despite not being on active duty, and a tavern was a tavern no matter where you sailed. Luna was encouraged to participate in the merriment, but she informed them that her duties were more than lowering the moon. Perched on the edge of the city’s highest structure, hundreds of thread-thin ethereal tendrils reached out from her horn and into the houses of the inhabitants. Soothing the dreams of other creatures required a more direct approach, but Luna was pleased to find that they rested easy despite their predicament. The coastal gryphons built their houses and shops upon large wooden platforms far above the sandy shore, no doubt because they preferred the added altitude. Flight was the only way to reach many of the wooden buildings, with the notable exception being the area where ships moored and flightless foreigners conducted their business. A pony silhouette soared past her peripheral vision and landed not far behind her. Luna recognized the shape and calmly continued to channel the dream spell. “You’re out late, Sergeant Blaze,” Luna said, staying perfectly still as the figure moved in behind her blind spot. “How did you know it was me?” Sergeant Blaze replied. Luna decided on a mystical approach. “I know many things.” The adventurer sat down next to her on the thatched rooftop, and it was clear from the radiating heat and smell of soap that he’d arrived straight from a hot bath. Luna watched as he gazed out into the strange city, illuminated only by moonlight. His wet mane rested precariously down his gray neck, and his relaxed and vulnerable posture was in stark contrast to his confident act on the gryphon ship. An act, of course, not good enough to fool someone who knew full well the burden of command. “I’ve been thinking about you,” Sergeant Blaze said with a low voice. “I never believed a princess could handle herself so well in a tough spot.” Luna paused the dream spell and turned her head to get a better view of him. “Thank you.” “What I mean to say is,” he said, inching closer until their shoulders touched ever so slightly, allowing her to catch a faint whiff of cologne. “I really admire you.” Luna could only smile at his clumsy advancements. “Don’t you have a special somepony back home?” He shook his head. “I like you.” Luna didn’t respond. Instead, they gazed into one other’s eyes as the distance between them shrunk, then he moved forward to land a brief kiss on her upper lip. Instincts took over, she leaned down to his height to kiss him properly and with such force that they toppled over to lay intertwined on the rooftop. She pondered what to do next as she watched from above Sergeant Blaze smooch a dream image of herself. True, she suspected to have made quite an impression on him in today's high sea adventure, but she couldn’t imagine he would be smitten enough to have romantic fantasies. Perhaps this era had a few stallions worthy of note after all. The pair, a dozen yards below her looking-post on the fake moon at the roof of his dream bubble, continued to roll around on the rooftop, kissing wildly. There was no need for a measuring tape to know that his imagination exaggerated the fullness of her lips, the lushness of her eyelashes, and the volume of certain other parts. Turning Sergeant Blaze’s dream into a different one where his mother discovered him stealing from the cookie jar seemed appropriate. Perhaps one where a filly he’d never met knocks on his front doors to reveal to him that he is the foal’s long-lost father. A score of approaching souls caught her attention before she could begin altering his dream, and she turned away from the dream romance. Leaping out of her position on the moon, she flew through the thin barrier of Sergeant Blaze’s dream bubble, stepping into the area of the dream realm mirroring the waking world. The two were interchangeable to an experienced dreamer, unlike those who stumbled into it by accident and only saw a dense mist clouding reality. The object of her focus was a train of wagons and carriages traveling towards the city through the only land route in and out of the surrounding cliffs. It was difficult to see clearly with the dust cloud kicked up by the distant convoy, but she didn’t need visual confirmation to know that there wasn’t a single person sleeping among them. It was time for her to act. She opened her eyes and looked up at the roof of the inn, then threw off the ragged bed sheets and shuffled out of the rickety bed. ”Haywood!” she said to the stallion on an adjacent bed. There was no time to wait for him to rouse from his slumber, so she levitated his sleeping form straight into the mild air, fastened the saddlebags around his waist, and used a dream tendril to wake him. ”Luna?” Haywood said, eyes popping wide open. ”What’s happening?” ”Ortwin and his associates are approaching the city.” When they’d first arrived at the port, the merchant they sought had been traveling the countryside with a large retinue. Though Leonard had visited their manor and assured her that a meeting would be possible the following evening, she had no intentions of waiting longer than was strictly necessary. The floorboards creaked as she trotted down the stairs to the first floor of the inn and into the dining hall, Haywood floating alongside in her magic. A few sailors were still up and sleepily nursing their last cider, most of them too tired to react when their princess passed them by. Captain Keen was one of the late night patrons sitting near the exit, and though she couldn’t explain why, she halted by his table. ”Captain Keen,” she said to the intoxicated pony. He looked up with bleary eyes from his half-empty pitcher, and to his credit quickly sobered when faced with her serious expression. ”I have a favor to ask.” ”U-uh, yes, Princess?” ”I have a need for some assistance and wish to hire Sergeant Blaze.” She levitated a small stack of bits from Haywood’s saddlebags onto the table. ”The crown would be most appreciative if you could go to his room and ask him to meet us at the building opposite of the Ortwin manor in fifteen minutes, quietly.” Captain Keen blinked a few times at the bits, then he rose up from his seat and acknowledged her with an uncoordinated salute. ”I’ll go get him right away.” ”What time is it?” Haywood asked as he hovered at her side. “Is it morning already?” “We are still a few hours away from sunrise,” she said and gave him no time to reply as she barged through the door of the inn and out into the night. There was no one around on the wooden walkways at this hour, so she quickly took to the air and flew in the direction of the merchant house. The lights from the convoy she’d seen in the dream realm had already reached the city limits and were moving between buildings on a patch of land beyond the beach. It was a smaller area that functioned as the city’s center of trade, where structures too large to fit on the wooden plateau were located. Among those were the trading houses belonging to the various merchant guilds and their warehouses. She swooped over the houses toward the caravan as it moved through the streets, then landed on the ceiling of a square building on the opposite side of Ortwin’s manor, releasing Haywood from her magic as she did so. “Why are we skulking about on the rooftops?” he whispered once he stumbled back onto all fours. “We are observing, not skulking,” she replied and peeked over the ledge to the street below. “Perfect timing is a requirement for proper diplomacy.” The gates of the merchant house were swung open by estate guards, all of which wore green tunics with the symbol of an anchor and carried sabers at their side. The close timing implied that the schedule of the approaching convoy was planned. Soon after that, a carriage drawn by large oxen appeared at the edge of the street. Its drivers were two gryphons wearing similar garments, and they didn’t stop until they were well inside the manor grounds. A flurry of activity followed as more green clothed gryphons carrying lanterns emerged from the main doors of the estate, and before long, the entire caravan stood parked in a semicircle in front of an adjacent, windowless warehouse. The gryphons were quick to unload unmarked boxes and heavy sacks, storing them in a place well out of sight of the street. The time of night was likely not coincidence, either. “That’s awfully suspicious,” Haywood noted in a hushed tone. “You’d almost believe they are hiding contraband. When did you realize something was wrong?” “I didn’t,” she admitted and channeled a spell around the both of them when one of the gryphons took to the air in their direction. The gryphon surveyed the rooftop they were hiding on from above, then returned to the wagons. “What was that about?” Haywood whispered. The glow on her horn stopped. “Shadow magic,” she explained, then pointed back toward a dark spot flying from the direction of the inn. ”It would seem that our reinforcements have arrived.” Haywood turned to look at Sergeant Blaze flying low over the housetops. The pegasus hadn’t spotted them yet, so she used her magic to snag him out of the air and levitate him down to the rooftop. ”Whoa,” Sergeant Blaze said as he fumbled around in her magic. ”What was that for?” ”Be quiet, Sergeant Blaze,” she said before releasing him onto solid ground. The mercenary’s mane was severely ruffled, and when their eyes met, he stared just a few moments too long before looking away. From the pungent odor of old and dried up sweat, the stallion must have foregone a bath and gone straight to bed when his shore leave began. The initial noise he had made was loud enough to make some of the gryphon guards turn their heads, but not enough for them to warrant further investigation. ”I think Leonard’s friend might be a smuggler,” Haywood told Blaze, then pointed with a hoof at the late night activity still going on at the manor courtyard. Most of the wagons had unloaded their cargo and were setting out into the city, while a majority of the gryphons were either returning to their homes or retiring to a nearby barrack. “I can’t see any other explanation,” Haywood continued. “Decent ponies don’t sneak about and conduct their business at night.” The old stallion cleared his throat and at least had the decency to look embarrassed when he noticed her deadpan stare. In the courtyard, there was a wealthy gathering which stood out from the rest by wearing embroidery and merely observing the workers hauling goods by wing and claw. They were centered around a tall gryphon with an abundance of jewelry attached to his wings and facial feathers. The green cloak over his back displayed the symbol of an anchor in an intricate silver lining. There was little doubt left in her mind that this was the merchant leader, Ortwin. ”Is that the gryphon you came for?” Sergeant Blaze asked in a more leveled voice. “That is correct, Sergeant Blaze.” The gryphon in question was retiring to inside the manor with his entourage following closely behind him. “I’m here on an investigation to uncover a plot against the nation, and Ortwin is my only witness to who the culprit might be.” ”I’m not sure I follow,” Sergeant Blaze admitted. ”But I’m guessing you have a plan and need my help.” He stood straight and pressed a hoof to his chest. ”I would gladly do anything I can, Luna.” ”Good,” she said with perfect sincerity. ”If Ortwin is a smuggler,” he continued without giving anyone else room to respond, ”then I could sneak down there and knock out the warehouse guard. The lock looks strong, but with enough time, I might be able to pick it. Also, if we knock out enough gryphons, we might stumble onto the keys by accident. Once we find evidence, we could use it to force Ortwin to spill the beans, right?” She rolled her eyes. Adventurers. “I have another job for you in mind.” He leaned in closer. “Yes?” In answer to Sergeant Blaze’s question, she used her magic to comb his shaggy mane and adjust his collar into something more presentable. The pungent odor coming from his black tunic, however, she could do little about. “Your job is to escort us to the building, then stand outside as regally as possible while we manage things inside.” “Wait, what?” Sergeant Blaze said, completely dumbfounded. “You woke me up because you wanted me to act like I’m one of your pretty little guards?” “You were not drinking with your fellows? My apologies.” She tilted her head theatrically. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important in your dreams.” The way he froze for an instant was evidence enough that he remembered all too well. “Dreams?” Haywood asked, clearly confused. “It’s nothing,” she replied, then stood up tall with one hoof on the roofs ledge. “Let us proceed with the plan. We are no longer in Equestria, and first appearances are important.” “What plan are we—” Haywood began when he was suddenly yanked into the air and levitated down to the street. The gatehouse was still open for them to pass, and she took the initiative to fly straight through before any of the gryphon guards could react. Once they landed in unison at the center of the courtyard, the dozen or so remaining guards and laborers turned to stare dumbfounded at the unannounced guests. Some might have been informed about them from Leonard’s visit, but those who just arrived with the caravan had their claws on the hilt of their swords. There was no cry of alarm at their intrusion. Likely, no one wanted to take the first step and risk embarrassing their employer in front of royalty, and so she and her group were allowed to walk up to the manor entrance unopposed. A young gryphon with a pike resting over his shoulder stood guarding the main door, and by the rustling of his ill-fitting armor and the rust stains on his metal helmet, he had little experience on how to handle a confrontation with an audacious alicorn. “I have come for an important discussion with your master,” she informed the petrified guard, then raised a hoof to push open the front entrance before the gryphon could muster enough courage to object. The door was locked. An awkward pause followed as both ponies and gryphons wondered what would happen next. Thinking quickly, she turned her attention toward the young gryphon with an accusing glare, that near magically shifted all the blame for their predicament onto the unfortunate guard. “I’m sorry!” he yelled with a voice that seemingly skipped through puberty. They avoided any more uncomfortable difficulties after the young gryphon pulled out a keyring from his side, and though he fumbled with getting the correct key into the hole. “You may wait outside, Sergeant Major Blaze,” she told the mercenary at the door. Sergeant Blaze raised an eyebrow at his sudden promotion, and at least managed to give a proper salute before standing at attention next to the door opposite the gryphon. The interior of the manor was unexpectedly unadorned and, compared to the Rich manor in Ponyville, downright destitute. The wooden planks they walked on creaked as loudly as the ones at the inn, and instead of expensive paintings lining the walls, there were only a few cheap looking copies of the trade house sigil. They only needed to take a few steps before she and Haywood reached a lobby of sorts, where a tired gryphon in a worn red suit, likely a steward, sorted paperwork behind a makeshift reception. Opposite side of the room was a small resting area with chairs, where a few of the merchants they’d seen crowd around Ortwin gathered around a single wood-burning stove. “Princess Luna!” the gryphon in the suit exclaimed. “What in King Grover’s ancient whiskers are you doing here at this hour?” “My associate Leonard promised me a meeting with Master Ortwin,” she said from opposite the counter. “I’m certain he provided adequate compensation for the arrangement.” The gryphon looked past her to glance nervously at the group of merchants, who were now very much interested in the conversation. Leonard hadn’t been forward on how he was going to arrange the meeting, but she more than expected it involved bags of coin changing pockets behind the scenes. “The deal was to convince Master Ortwin into accepting a meeting tomorrow evening,” the gryphon whispered to them. “He has in all likelihood retired for the night.” “We saw Ortwin outside just a few minutes ago,” Haywood interjected. “Surely he hasn’t fallen asleep already.” The gryphon grimaced and fidgeted with his claws. “You saw that did you?” “Our only purpose here is to have a brief conversation with Ortwin,” she said with finality. “I suggest you inform him of our arrival before we decide to complicate matters.” “I’ll ask him,” the steward said after a momentary pause of indecisiveness, then bolted up a flight of stairs to the second floor. They were forced to wait in the lobby for nearly ten minutes while the group of merchants eyed them suspiciously behind their backs, but the gryphon in red returned and motioned them up the stairs that lead them to a long hallway. Their destination was a door with another anchor symbol on it. “Behind me is Master Ortwin’s personal study,” the gryphon said, then eyed them suspiciously. “With this, I consider my obligation fulfilled.” “Of course,” she replied. “And now a warning,” he continued, holding a single claw up. “Should the Master decide that the meeting is over, then I must insist that you take your leave immediately.” The gryphon’s sudden boldness surprised her. “We have no intention of overstaying our welcome.” “Remember, we are free gryphons here. Equestrian royalty holds no sway over us.” A slight trembling in his outstretched talon and a twitch at the wings suggested otherwise. She guided him away with a wing. “Your concerns are noted.” The room on the other side of the door showcased another stark contrast with the Rich manor. Fully stocked bookshelves that towered to the ceiling were shrunk to racks that barely reached her withers, and kerosene lamps were replaced with smelly tallow candles as the primary source of lighting. The tired merchant behind the desk and writing in his ledger were all too similar. “I have come far to speak with you, Master Ortwin,” she said as they approached the desk. Ortwin looked up and readjusted a pair of round glasses resting on his beak, and judging by his lush feathers and thin frame, he was a surprisingly young for a leader in his profession. The sharpness in which he studied them, however, showed a promising intellect that carefully waged the implications and opportunities of this makeshift meeting. “By the amount of coin that upstart Leonard spent on bribing my associates while I was away,” Ortwin began, as he closed the book and pushed it to the side, “I suspect the distance traveled was the least of your expenditures.” The boy had some spunk. “I was unaware of Leonard’s improprieties.” “Is that how you ponies refer to it?” “Yes?” Haywood asked rhetorically. Ortwin scoffed at the idea. ”An individual who doesn’t seize the opportunity for extra gain is not worthy of my respect.” “You allow your employees to take bribes?” Haywood continued in disbelief. “If it gives me a valid reason to withhold a month’s salary in recompense, then you’d be a fool not to encourage the practice.” She and Haywood exchanged a questioning glance. They’d yet to even introduce themselves, and the conversation had already taken an odd turn. “We shouldn’t let our differences in work ethics distract us from business,” she said in an attempt to regain control of the conversation. ”My name is Princess Luna, and this is my secretary, Haywood.” “Call me Ortwin. I would offer you gryphon ale and a place to sit,” he replied with a wave of his talon before gesturing to the bare room, “but it’s way too late at night for pleasantries anyways.” “We only need to know one thing, and then we’ll be on our way,” she said, standing in front of his desk. “You attended the business gala in Canterlot, did you not?” Ortwin dropped the quill in his claw and held his talons together. “Yes.” “And there was a scuffle with Counselor Burkhard of Gryphonstone?” “The fool jumped me in a fit of rage,” Ortwin frowned. “The old bird was lucky that my guards intervened.” This was the moment she’d been waiting for. “Burkhard was seen having a brief meeting with an earth pony mare wearing a green dress right before the incident. Did you recognize who it was?” “It seems like I have to bring less talkative guards on my next trip.” Burkhard leaned back in his chair, and his smile was that of a schemer. “I’ve never met the mare personally, but I recognized who it was. This information won’t be free, however.” She suspected as much. “I can offer six-thousand bits from my personal funds. When the information has been confirmed, and the blockade ended, a royal ship will deliver the coins to you in person.” Ortwin appeared to be considering the offer, but it was clear to her that the merchant had something else in mind. He left the chair and stood up on all fours, then went to peer out of one of the windows. Outside was the side of the warehouse where they’d stored the goods from the wagons. “I fear matters are more complicated now that you’ve interfered in our domestic politics.” She and Haywood exchanged a questioning glance. “Our investigation has nothing to do with, nor cares about gryphon affairs. Do you accept my offer or not?” Ortwin chuckled, shook his head, then closed the curtains before returning to his seat. “You brought a ship loaded with provisions to a blockaded port. What do you think the Gryphonstone Council will say when they hear you’ve undermined their efforts to subdue the coastal cities?” “Was Hildburg in any risk of starvation?” she asked, genuinely concerned that the situation could be more dire than first believed. “Hardly, but there are other factors,” Ortwin said. “Prolonged rationing with little to eat but gruel and soup will take its toll on morale. It won’t be long before the average gryphon might decide that they’d rather support Gryphonstone than the merchant classes.” “I don’t understand,” Haywood said, joining the discussion. It was always convenient to have someone who is willing to ask the simple questions. “Even if it wasn’t intentional, shouldn’t you, the merchants, be thankful for the fresh supplies?” “You might believe so at first glance,” Ortwin replied. “In actuality, you’ve not only angered Gryphonstone, but ruined our plans to put those pompous aristocrats in their place.” “How could we possibly have ruined your plans?” Haywood asked in bewilderment and looked to her for support. The puzzle was slowly being solved in her mind. The unmarked crates and sacks: perhaps they weren’t part of a smuggling effort. If so, she’d already lost her trump card in the negotiations. “You are hiding provisions in those warehouses,” she said, betting that her assumption was correct. “That’s why you unloaded them in the cover of night, to make Gryphonstone believe that their blockade is effective when in actuality the city is fully provisioned.” “Well done, Princess Luna. I’m impressed.” Ortwin laughed out loud. “Indeed, it’s the finest produce coin could buy.” Hence the issue of her involvement. Haywood wasn’t so quick to follow and frantically turned between the two in search of answers. “My informants tell me that the Gryphonstone treasury will run dry maintaining this blockade long before our food stores does,” Ortwin said. “Besides, most of the sailors in the gryphon navy come from the coastal area where support for the government is low, and nearly all ships are captained by incompetent Gryphonstone officials. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.” There was a silence in the room as both sides waited for the other to begin. “Now that you’ve made a mockery of their blockade and delivered fresh supplies in broad daylight for the whole town to see,” Ortwin continued. “Gryphonstone will most likely withdraw their ships and cut their losses.” “You’ll be able to resume trading as before,” Haywood noted. “True,” Ortwin said, tapping with a claw on a parchment with a long list of numbers. “But the merchant houses have invested a considerable amount of time, money, and effort on making sure that this ploy worked.” He looked up to her. “I’m afraid you’ll find few friends in gryphon lands after this debacle. This is why six thousand bits will not suffice for the information you need.” The situation appeared worse than anticipated, from her point of view. It might be true that she’d unwittingly angered most of the dominant classes in gryphon lands, but if they believed it would be enough to intimidate her, then they’d be up for a rude awakening. “Ortwin,” she began, with an indignant pause. “I care nothing about your internal affairs or paltry schemes. We have come to you for information and are prepared to offer you a substantial amount of money in return, but if you withhold knowledge vital to the safety of Equestria out of spite, then I will make life very difficult for you and your associates.” Ortwin seemed more amused than intimidated by her threats. “Oh, on the contrary, Princess Luna,” he said with a broad smile and glimmer in his eyes. “The reason I won’t accept your money is that I desire something else entirely. A partnership between us.” She blinked. “Partnership?” Haywood asked. “You mean with the crown?” “Not the crown,” Ortwin quickly interjected. “Between my merchant house and Princess Luna.” The offer seemed ludicrous at first. Only a few years had passed since her return from banishment; too short a time to acquire any personal wealth of note. Ortwin must be aware that she would never abuse her political power, which left him with only one remaining reason for this offer. “You’re interested in the lumber that will come out of my restoration of Equestria’s former capital.” It wasn’t a question. “Y-yes,” Ortwin said, visibly surprised that she had caught on so quickly. “Though I admit I now fear your sharp intuitions.” “How much?” she asked. “I want to be the sole purchaser, with a twenty percent discount to current market prices.” Interesting. She moved to lean over his desk. “Six percent, and you’ll have half of the lumber.” Ortwin stood his ground, figuratively. “Fifteen percent and all of the wood. Don’t forget the risk I’m taking in committing myself to a project still in its planning phase.” “Eight point five.” She leaned in even further. “The Everfree is a vast forest, and though we only intend to clear as much as needed to set up a functioning railway system, the sheer amount will no doubt cause a notable drop in market price.” Haywood again looked back and forth between them, apparently not following. “Thirteen percent,” Ortwin said. “The prices won’t change if I don’t sell a single plank on the open market.” “That would make for a very large summer home then.” Ortwin pointed accusingly at her with a claw. ”You jest.” True, the reason why you’d ever need enough wood to found a city were limited, and providing the nation with fuel for the winter was not among them. ”Of course,” she said and for emphasis, tapped her hoof on a map of the gryphon coast on his desk. ”You intend to build a fleet of your own.” Ortwin gave her a weary smile in return, and it was then his fatigue from traveling through the night became clear. The energy he had displayed when their conversation began vanished in a heartbeat, and the young merchant looked to have doubled his years. ”Correct,” Ortwin said, putting up a brave front. ”We merchants have few ships of our own, and renting them from pony trading companies is a pricey affair. We wish to have control over our own destiny, with modern seafaring vessels made and crewed by our countrymen, no more of those antiquated ships the Gryphon Navy uses.” “You plan to compete with The West Pony Trading company?” Haywood asked with a modest hint of skepticism. Ortwin waved away his question. “We’re not so presumptuous. My wish is only to have eight modern vessels ready within four years, and another forty in ten years' time.” There was much for her to consider in this deal. There was nothing wrong with helping the coastal gryphons gain more autonomy, and a little bit of outside competition would only be healthy for the Equestrian trading companies. The danger lay in how this deal affected the balance of power in gryphon lands when those ships were ready to sail. This was her first visit into their country in a millennium, and her presence here had already affected them more than she could have imagined. In the end, she trusted her intuition in these matters. “Ten point five percent,” she said and held out her hoof to him. “Deal.” Ortwin stretched out his talon and shook it. “I will have my lawyers write up the necessary legal documents, and since we share a common goal in restoring this old city of yours, I will speak with potential investors on your behalf.” She nodded and backed away to stand next to Haywood. “Now, I wish for you to tell me, who was with Counselor Burkhard that night at the Gala?” Ortwin folded his arms and closed his eyes for a nearly a minute. “Yes, I’m completely certain, though I believe your informant wasn’t too familiar with high society and celebrities in pony lands.” She raised an eyebrow. “Because?” “She wasn’t an earth pony. The gala dress obscured her wings.” Ortwin stared up at her. “The mare who met with the chancellor was none other than one of your national heroines, Miss Fluttershy.” The front doors of the Ortwin manor slammed shut behind them, no doubt because the steward was peeved at their impromptu meeting. Sergeant Blaze waited for them outside, whispering something into the ear of a suspiciously red-faced door guard. Not exactly proper conduct for one pretending to be a Sergeant Major of the Royal Guard. “We are returning to the docks,” she told him, then took off into the air with Haywood in tow. They flew at a measured pace over the city and passed the inn, eliciting questioning glances from the two stallions. She landed at the peak of the sheer cliffs that formed a natural seawall and gazed out at the horizon. A ship belonging to the Gryphon Navy patrolled the outskirts, staying well out of range of the shore batteries the coastal gryphons had built inside hollowed out tunnels. Behind the ship, the sunrise slowly drifted in, and she began lowering the moon in turn. “How likely do you believe it is that Fluttershy knowingly conspired against the crown?” she asked the two stallions. Sergeant Blaze didn’t seem to know who that was. “Not at all, your majesty,” Haywood said. “Shall we return to Ponyville and ask her directly?” The other choice would be to fly to Gryphonstone and hear Counselor Burkhard's side of the story, but due to their unfortunate circumstance, that option would likely remain closed for quite some time. The fact still remained that the shy pegasus had managed to rile up a seasoned official enough that he attacked his fellow countrymen, leading to civil strife and interracial embargoes, and did so in the span of a brief meeting, no less. It continued to defy reason. Perhaps there existed a third option from a third party. Though she had little idea what they hoped to gain by causing a divide among the gryphon classes and their relationship with Equestria. “Sergeant Blaze,” she said with the tone of command. “Yes, Luna?” “I’m commissioning your ship and its crew for an important task in service of the crown,” she said while turning her back on the ocean. “Rouse the crew and sober them up, I want us on a course south by southwest within the hour.” The pegasus took a moment before he understood what that meant. “But that would take us far past Baltimare.” “Yes, it would, Sergeant Blaze,” she said. “We set sail for the Badlands.”