It was the start of the week, and Griffenheim Central Station was proof of it. The capital of the Griffonian Empire was an important hub of commerce and power after all, and the Station was the centre of it all; as the railroad had replaced the Griffking River ports as the most important method of transportation in the Heartlands of the Empire. Midday train traffic was in full swing, as trains arrived and left the Station each in an average of ten minutes, carrying passengers or cargo in and out of the city.
One of these trains, a red one with white lines on its sides, was just arriving on the station; westwards from the city of De Vleugels. The locomotive – one of the newer streamliner designs available in the Empire – blew its whistle as it approached the platform, braking in the process. Once it stopped on the Station and opened its doors, dozens of griffons exited the train, happy to arrive to their destination. Inside one of the VIP cars, a white griffon gathered his belongings into a briefcase and stepped out of the train. He was dressed in grey military officer clothing, and his chest sported several medals.
Once he was fully out of the train, the griffon was blasted by the heat of the city, no longer protected by the air conditioning inside the car. His choice of clothing became poor as he began sweating, and he brought a claw to his face to move some of his forehead feathers back to position. After adjusting himself to standing on all four legs again, the griffon began walking to the inside of the station; unintentionally passing next to the engine, and the heat from it – even while it was not moving – added to the unusually warm summer heat Griffenheim was experiencing, especially hitting the left side of his face. Cursing internally, he moved faster into the Station's inside.
He felt immediate relief once stepping inside, as the interior of the building was significantly cooler that the outside. He took a moment to look at his surroundings – dozens, if not hundreds, of griffons were inside the station, and he stopped to look at several stores and places near him: a clothing store, an arcade, and a cafe; he wasn't interested in any of these though, as he was too old for games, had enough clothing in his briefcase, and the train service had already come with breakfast.
Instead he continued looking, eventually finding what he wanted near the entrance of the station. He quickly walked to the light brown griffon standing next to a telephone booth, wearing a black uniform. The griffon rapidly noticed him and greeted the white griffon with a salute, with the officer saluting back.
"Greetings, Generalfeldmarschall Helltalon, welcome to Griffenheim," the griffon said.
"Good day, Harold." Helltalon shook the griffon's claw. "Is everything ready so we can go to the Palace?"
Harold made a quick nod. "Yes, sir, both the vehicle and the escort are ready to move. All we need now is to get inside the car."
"Alright, let's go."
Both griffons left the train station, and promptly entered the first car – a classical, model 1018 black Krähe. Harold put on his chauffeur hat and started the vehicle, their security escort behind them. Helltalon put his briefcase near him and looked out of the window, taking in the scenery of the Griffonian capital. In front of him, he could see the trees and bushes of Grover square, its famous clock tower in the middle; griffons of all sorts walking and flying around the plaza. If he focused his eyes enough – which his eagle vision permitted – he could make out the outline of the Imperial Palace on the other side of the Griffking River. His destination.
Their car moved through the winding streets of Griffenheim, slowly but with care. In many ways, the capital was still an old city, with its ancient architecture and design still standing. As a result, the inventions of the modern era had to adapt to it, instead of the other way around. From the inside of the vehicle he could see that the heat the city experienced was unusual even for its inhabitants, with almost all of the griffons he saw on the streets moving quickly so they could spend less time in the open.
"Is there a heat wave going on? In Vleugels its starting to get warm as well, even for summer," he said.
"Seems like it." Harold looked out of the window into the sky. "They say its going to rain in the next days though, hopefully it'll last until that."
"I hope so." Helltalon nodded, adjusting the collar of his uniform with his right claw. "Can we move faster? I don't want to spend any extra time outside."
"Of course, sir," Harold responded. "This car may be older, but it works better that many newer models, in my opinion."
The white griffon nodded once again. The 1018 Krähe had passed the line from 'old' to 'classy', and was now in trend for wealthy griffons to use it – or put it and show it off to others – as a symbol of wealth and power. Griffon nature, he thought, it never changed.
As their vehicle went over one of the many centuries-old bridges that crossed the Griffking River, he could see the view of the gigantic body of water. There were a few large ships carrying cargo – probably to the port in Rottendedam, or the industrial centers in Mirabelle – although most of the river traffic was composed of medium to small sized boats, carrying griffons or smaller quantities of goods. The Griffking originated in Wittenland, far away to the east, and was several kilometers in width at its greatest, making it a excellent route of commerce and transport – even if the train had relegated it to second place.
He took his mind off the city for a moment, and focused on what he was in Griffenheim for. The Emperor, Grover the Sixth, had summoned the field marshals in the Empire – three in total – to the Palace. He knew the reason for this: the situation in Nova Griffonia. The Empire's former colony had been fighting a war along with its Vedinian ally for the past four years; against the most powerful nation in the world at the moment, the Solar Empire. The Empire had sent aid to the the Nova Griffonians, mainly in the form of weapons, equipment and trucks; but the Solarists were near the capital city of Weter, despite the fierce resistance from Nova Griffonia, and the city was likely to fall soon.
He frowned as the thought of the Solar Empire. Twenty years ago, nogriff would have it in their heads that Equestria would turn into the nation it was now. The Great War against the Changelings changed the country drastically – too drastically. As the Changeling army neared the Equestrian capital of Canterlot, Princess Celestia was unable to control her stress and anger, and ascended into Daybreaker. Four bloody years later, and the Solar Empire's armies were now in the Vesalopolis, the capital of the Changeling Lands, and the country was annexed into the new nation, including its Olenian conquest.
After the Great War ended, Daybreaker continued her reforms – the economy was closed; the events happening in the country rarely getting known in the rest of the world, and direct rule from Canterlot was enacted, as the former Olenian and Changeling nations were planned to be integrated into the country, with almost no native rule, all of it at the local level.
The Griffonian Empire didn't send aid to its former Changeling ally, as relations had cooled after the death of General Thranx, although it was a blessing in disguise: they would have been at war with the ponies years ago, as Daybreaker was notoriously power-hungry and agressive; somegriffs even said that she had burned down the city of Stalliongrad herself. Some tried to rebel and swore loyalty to Princess Luna, but they were destroyed, along with the Lunar Princess.
His thoughts were stopped by the car halting, and the voice of Harold. "We have arrived, sir, welcome to the Imperial Palace."
He nodded and thanked the chauffeur, the door opened by one of his guards. He looked at the Imperial Palace, taking the entirety of its size more than one time. Traditional griffon architecture utilized the terrain to its advantage, and the Palace was no different. Built on the highest hill in Griffenheim, the Palace's height increased as the hill's own altitude did, taking up more than eighty thousand square meters, and five stories. At the top of the building, four spires shot up into sky, meant to symbolize the Grover Dynasty's connection to Boreas, King of Gods.
Helltalon quickly walked up the fifty or so steps of the Palace, and arrived at the main door, which was flanked by two armed griffon knights. The guards noticed him immediately, and saluted Helltalon, opening the wooden Palace doors so he could enter.
Once saluting the guard back and entering inside the Palace, he looked around the building. The interior was what you could expect from griffon royalty – displays of wealth were abundant everywhere he looked, with golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and columns and walls made from the finest of Wingbardian marble. The floor was covered in a red carpet, and the entrance hall split into three: two starts to the sides, and one bigger stair in front. The top of the guardrails, of course, were covered in gold.
He went up the front stair, since that's where he needed to go. At the top of it was a servant, who welcomed him.
"Good day, Herr Helltalon," the servant said, with a little nervousness in her voice. "His Majesty will see you soon, in the meantime time you can meet with the other Marshals that have arrived, further ahead."
He nodded and continued to walk through another door, arriving in the Palace's main hallway, which stretched for what seemed like forever. Around fifteen meters ahead though, he could see where the two remaining field marshals were standing – Rodier and Bronzetail. Helltalon quickled moved to the door where both griffons were waiting, and greeted them.
"Good day, gentlegriffs," he said, saluting the other marshals.
"Good day, Monsieur Helltalon," responded Rodier, thick Aquilean accent all the way through.
Léonard Rodier was an... interesting griffon, to say the least. He left Aquilea when the Second Revolution broke out, declaring his homeland to be a 'dead country'. He was accepted by the Empire, and made a field marshal shortly after; he insisted on being called the Maréchal most of his time, and he did administer the Aquilean occupation government after the Empire's war against the Second Republic. Still, Helltalon believed he was stuck-up, to put it lightly.
Bronzetail also responded with his own greeting and salute; and Helltalon rapidly asked about the Emperor's whereabouts.
"The Emperor is in a meeting with King Tomado." Bronzetail took his signature corn cob pipe out of his beak. "He'll arrive shortly."
"Alright, we'll have to wait, then," he responded.
The atmosphere was still after the conversation, with almost no griffon in this part of the Palace at this hour. He looked around, at the red walls and the several plants and portraits around him – of important griffon lords and ladies, and some paintings of well-known historical scenes of the Empire, the coronation of Emperor Grover the Fourth being an example.
The wait also created expectation inside him – its not that he nervous of meeting Grover VI, as he had not much reasons to be: his more than forty year career in the Imperial Army, and him remaining loyal during the Revolution of 978; made him well known to the Grovers. The Emperor was also a pleasant griffon to be around with, unless you mentioned Daybreaker's claims of being able to raise the Sun, since that's where the Archon Eros' education – Boreas be with him – was particulary effective!
The reason for this expectation was the reason of the meeting itself. The Empire was nervous of any Solarist clawhold in the Griffonian continent, due to it being a perfect platform for any future war against any nation on the continent. With the situation in Nova Griffonia, this was more likely – the capital city of Weter was less than a hundred kilometers from the Vedinian coast, and the ponies could easily attempt and even succeed at a naval invasion of the Kingdom of Vedina.
Aiding the Northern Alliance with weapons and materiel was not enough, so he asked himself, was it time for a more direct intervention? By this he did not just mean declaring war on the Solar Empire – that would be foolhardy at this stage – but perhaps a diplomatic meeting could be arranged, he wondered.
His thoughts were interrupted by a palace knight opening the door.
"His Majesty will arrive in a minute, sirs," he said.
Nodding, each marshal entered the room one by one. It was decorated similarly to the rest of the palace, with the central feature being a large table, with no cloth on it. He could see a large map of Vedina on it, with circles and points of interest marked. From the window of the room, he could see the gardens of the Palace, which were as large as the building itself.
As the knight said, the Emperor arrived exactly one minute after they did. As he entered the room, everygriff in it bowed – even Rodier – and waited for him to speak.
"Good day, gentlegriffs." Grover VI walked slowly to the table. "I assume you have all arrived well?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Bronzetail responded for everygriff in the room, "What is your reason for your summoning in this day?"
"I'm concerned about the situation in the North." Grover adjusted the golden band around his neck. "I'm more concerned about the chances of an Equestrian landing in Vedina."
The Emperor then gestured for the three marshals to come over. They were soon joined by the intelligence heads of the Imperial Navy and Army.
"How likely is it the Equestrians land in Vedina," Grover repeated.
Marshal Bronzetail was the first to respond. "At the moment, we believe they won't risk it. However, once the Nova Griffonians are defeated, we believe its highly likely they will try to invade the Vedinians."
"And what are the most probable points of landing they will attempt to use?" asked Grover VI.
Helltalon followed in speaking. "The peninsula is an excellent point, as its mostly flat terrain with little obstacles. From that, we can also expect several landings in the western coast, especially in the closest point between Equus and Griffonia. The southwestern and northern coasts are a no-go, as they are either too far from any supply bases or filled with difficult, hilly terrain."
He was quickly followed by Rodier, who said, "The Equestrians have already captured the Haukland Islands. It will most likely be used as a staging point for an invasion. We can predict one if we monitor the supply movement into the islands."
Rodier pointed the location of the Hauklands on the map with his claw, marked with a red circle as a point of interest. Emperor Grover VI put on his reading glasses, his blue eyes fixating on the map. Shortly thereafter, the Imperial Navy intelligence head, Reinholt Blueplume, also began to talk.
"The Equestrian Navy has increased its activity on the area. We think they're attempting to establish naval dominance for an invasion. It will not be subtle when they do it."
"A naval invasion is inevitable," The Emperor said, rather fatefully, "The question is, what do we do once it happens?"
"We do have several options." Helltalon pointed to the map. "We can mobilize some armies to the Vedinian border, and push for a diplomatic solution for the conflict."
"The Equestrians are paranoid of our intervention in the conflict," Rodier added as soon as Helltalon finished speaking. "Boreas knows what will they do once they learn of our mobilization."
"They know they can't fight against us on Griffonia," Helltalon added even more quickly. "If they learn of our decision, they'll agree to a ceasefire. The Equestrians won't risk war with us. Its too costly."
"Do you even know who Daybreaker is? Her personality?! How she thinks she's the Solar Godd—”
"Let's not argue like chicks!" The Emperor interrupted. "And Rodier, remember that Daybreaker's claims about raising the sun are just that, claims."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I'll have to agree with Marshal Helltalon," Bronzetail said, "The Equestrians will agree to a peace negotiation if we show our force. Our continental strength is unmatched. Maybe they'll do it if we sweeten the deal."
The Emperor stood for a minute, staring at the map, and thinking. His blue eyes darted around the map several times, before he stopped, took off his glasses and began speaking once again.
"Gentlegriffs, if the Equestrians decide to invade Vedina." The 25-year-old Emperor looked at the Helltalon, determined. "We will partially mobilize towards the Vedinian border, Marshal Helltalon will command the army group and its generals." Grover VI now looked at Bronzetail and Rodier. "We will also covertly prepare in the west coast, as a precaution. An army will also be placed on the Wingbardian and Sicamenoese coasts."
All three marshals silently nodded at the Emperor's orders, although Helltalon internally prided himself in being awarded the most important job. He was the first to speak.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Your orders will be followed," he said.
"That's great." Grover VI gave a slight smile at the Marshals. "Now, will you gentlegriffs join me for lunch?"
Not wanting to reject the offer, all three accepted. The lunch, served on the dining hall of the Palace, was typical. A main course of pork, potatoes, rice and bread was followed by a second course of fruit. This was also accompanied with Aquilean wine – Rodier commenting on its good quality. The three left the Palace in the mid afternoon, after a hour long flight in its gardens with Grover VI, at the Emperor's invitation.
After leaving, Helltalon once again entered Harold's Krähe. The trip to the Griffking Hotel was short, with the building being located on the banks of the river it was named after, not far from the Palace. The afternoon traffic, or lack of it, also contributed; as almost nogriff was on the streets of its city at this time, unless they were tourists or going somewhere important.
He arrived in the hotel and checked in, his room – the 405 – located on the fourth floor. The design of the interior was what was expected of a hotel in the central part of the city, with a large red carpet covering most of the floor, a large bed in the middle of it. The walls were white and clean, with a few paintings of famous Griffonia landscapes on them. A single golden chandelier hanged from the ceiling, providing enough light.
He looked out of the large window, taking the city scenary. He was on the river side of the building, and although the river and city buildings covered most of his vision, it was a perfect place to think. Helltalon wondered if the meeting had gone really well – he mostly thought it did, but he had his doubts – and the argument with Rodier was a low point, even if he disliked the griffon. As he looked, the sight of three Hund II interceptors; probably from the airbase outside the city, caught his attention, as he followed them on the clear sky until they disappeared.
Shaking out the doubts out of his mind, Helltalon quickly made to the hotel room's bed, intending to rest before heading out into a city for dinner at dusk, as most of the day heat would be gone by then. He laid down, and closed his eyes.