//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8 
// Story: The Crown of Eques 
// by PTBonesbeard 
//------------------------------//

Peatmoss stirs to wakeing. The cold nip of morning air nibbling at his muzzle, drawing him groggily into a new day. Sitting up in the early dawn light, the old blanket that had been draped over him slid off his withers as he stretches his wings wide with a yawn. The chilling air rushed in to steal away any heat he had built up the previous night, as he ruffled his feathers and looks around the forge area.

Burnished Bronze was gone and the once hot forge was all but cold, despite the heat they had built up in it the previous evening. He remembered her showing him the process of reforging. Breaking down the blade into smaller pieces, stacking them together in clay and straw, and heating it up red hot. 

Once it had set in one chunk, she had him wack away at it with a sledge hammer. Guiding his strikes by hitting it with a smaller hammer as she turned and folded it in on it's self. They had worked on it for several hours, molding, and reheating the metal. He must have dozed off at some point while he had taken a break from swinging. Burnie had just put it back into the forge and he decided to rest his eyes for a few seconds.

Peatmoss spots the crudely shaped bar of metal sitting on the anvil. Stone cold as the morning breeze. Idly he gave his wings a flap and could tell they needed his attention without even looking. Resigning to the chore with a sigh, he began to rifle through his feathers with his muzzle. Nuzzling around till he came across an itchy, loose, or broken feather. With just a sharp tug, he dislodged them and brushes the good ones flat.

After a few minutes of work, he was satisfied. His mane and tail on the other hoof, were in need of a brushing. Maybe a shop in town has a brush he could buy.

Then he noticed a brown earthpony dressed in thin, worn-out clothes stareing at him from the road.

"Can I help you?" Peatmoss asks warily.

"Are you throwing those away?" the pony asks. Gesturing to his discarded ratty feathers with a hoof.

"Uh, yeah."

"Oh! Can I have them?!" the pony begs. Dashing up to Peat with hopeful excitement in his eyes.

"Sure. Uh, knock yourself out." he answers with a nervous smile.

"Thank you! Thank you!" exclaims the pony. Grabbing Peat's hoof and shaking it vigorously. "Scorpan bless your kind hart." Zipping about the yard, the pony snatches up every feather and stuffs them into a sack before the wind can scatter them. Peatmoss just watches him as he finishes and runs off up the road.

'That pony must really like feathers.' he shrugs to himself as he follows at a leisurely pace.

As he trots along, a pony in a tan and brown tunic coming the other way stops and gives him a wide-eyed look. Peat returns the look with a smile and hoof wave as he passes. A few seconds later, another pony dressed in a padded coat, yellow sash, and fur hat gives him a cock-eyed look.

"Hi there!" Peat says with a grin. The other pony snorts and thrusts his nose in the air.

"Another beggar for the slums." Peat hears him murmer as he prances by. "I can't believe the guard is letting skeevers just wander through the districts now a days."

Peat's smile melts off his face and he shoots an annoyed glare at the pony's retreating, ribbon-wrapped tail.

'I wonder how far I can shove that hat down his throat.' growls Meadblood in the back of Peat's mind. Shaking out the violent thought from his head, Peatmoss continues up to a plaza with a well at it's center, ringed with shops and stalls. A number of early morning shoppers crowd the space, blocking his progress up the hill.

Looking about for a break in the herd, he hears a voice call to him from his right.

"Hail there traveler." Turning he sees a pony wave to him with a smile. Grateful to see a friendly face, Peat walks over to say hi. "Tell me you're the replacement Bard from the college to replace Oat Meal at the Prancing Mare?"

"Heh, uh, no. I'm just visiting Gallops Hill."

"Oh. Well that's a shame." said the pony. His smile fading.

"Why? What's wrong with the current Bard?" asks Peat. Not wanting the mood to change.

"Pompous little milk drinker that one." he returned. "His empty boasting and pretentious attitude has been upsetting the humor of the evenings. It wouldn't surprise me if somepony knocks his jaw off that smug face of his one of these days. He dishonors our traditions by singing for gold, and the affection of wenches. Not for passions of life, or glorious battle. A true pony of Gallops hold doesn't chase such carnal desires. Only joy for life and loyalty to kith and kin. Oatmeal gives bards a bad name. So tell me Pegasus, what brings you to Gallops Hill?"

"Well to be honest, that has changed since I entered Crown. At first, it was just to visit my ancestral homeland."

"Ah. So you are one of the Equestrian imperials from Haven hold?"

"No. I entered Crown from South rim. One of the locals pointed me to Featherfall barrow. Ran into some bandits there. And you won't believe it but, a ghost of a Pegasus calling himself Windcaller told me to come here."

"That's some story!" the pony remarks with interest. "Are you certain you're not a bard? You should seek an audience up at the Jarl's keep. He is always in the mood for stories."

"Hm. I may. But at the moment I could use a hot meal. Where can a traveler get some breakfast?"

"The Prancing Mare of course." the colt said. Gesturing with his muzzle to the farside of the marketplace. "Gilded horn has enough food and mead to fill the legendary Mead Blooded himself. And his Companions too probably."

"Thank you. I'll see you around." Peat says with a nod as his belly murmures it's discomfort.

Making his way across the square took time as he had to wait for gaps to open in the crowd of shoppers. Most ignore him, and those that do spare him a look avoid eye contact. Weaving around a pair of gossiping mares, he is drawn into an opening in front of a stall.

Absentmindedly he looks over the baskets and crates piled full of fresh produce. Carrots, cabbages, turnips. Bright red tomatoes, long thin onions. And to his delight, apples. picking up one in his hoof, Peat brings it to his muzzle, but pauses as he remembers the ones he found in Squire Stone. Putting it between his hooves, he gives it a test squeeze and sure enough, it's hard as stone.

'Well at least they have carrots.' he thinks to himself as he picks up a bundle.

"Hay! Hooves off skeever!" Peatmoss looks up to see the Earthpony mare keeping  the stall glaring at him. "No hoofouts! Put that back and drag your lazy impoverished tail up to the temple. I'm sure they can toss you some scraps from the Jarl's table."

"I'm not poor." he says defensively

"Oh really?" saps the salespony, flicking her blue and white muzzle into the air. "Then forty pieces! Pay up!" she finishes. Thrusting her hoof out at him.

"Forty?!" he bulks. He is about to argue with her about it, but suddenly realizes the outburst had drawn the attention of several ponies around them. "Alright, fine. Forty." reaching back to his saddlebags, he touches his bare flank. Looking back at his bare sides, it suddenly dawns on him, that he left his bags back at the forge. A rush of embarrassment washes over him at his forgetfulness.

"I, uh. Oops." he stutters as the ponies around him begin scowling. "I um, seem to, uh... forgot my..." As he stammers, the crowd begins to mutter amongst themselves. Little bits of stabbing words reaching his ears from all around him.

"Can you believe the nerve of that skyskeever."

"Must have been stealing so long he doesn't even know how to pay."

"Filthy cloud humper. Not an ounce of shame. Disgusting."

"How can you ponies even say that?" he asks. "You don't even know me."

"Oh mare. Here comes the waterworks."

"Typical skyskeever."

"How long did he practice this bit I wonder."

"Oh, I don't know." says the shopkeeper. drawing Peat's attention back. "Maybe it's hmm, how you're dressed?" Then, the other horseshoe drops.

Looking around the crowd of frowning ponies, not a single one of them has anything less than four articles of clothing. Meanwhile, he's in nothing but his feathers and fur.

"Naked! Naked! Naked!" shouts a little foal. Pointing him out with a hoof, before their mother pulls them out of eyesight into the crowd. Quickly Peatmoss wraps his exposed body in his wings as best he can.

"Where do they sell,"

"General Goods." the salespony answers him before he can finish. "Across the plaza."

"Thank you. Sorry." Peat says as he puts back the apple and carrots before dashing off. The crowd parting before him as if loathed to even touch him.

Opening the door and scampering into the shop, he is relieved to find the room inside unoccupied. Letting out a sigh of relief, he slumps to the floor grateful to be away from the accusing eyes of the town's ponies.

Glancing around the shop, he sees the shelves and tables are full of bizarre nik-naks and odd animal parts. As well as seeds, plant leaves, sprigs, and small stone bowls of colored powder. The hole room smells like that tea shop his mother used to frequent back home.

'Am I in the right place?' he thought to himself. "Hello? Anypony here?" There's a squeak from the open door behind the counter. Followed by a (kish) of glass. Soon after, a light-green filly stumbles out coughing and waving a hoof in front of her face. Whisps of purple smoke following at her bright yellow mane and tail. Blinking, she stops and stares at him for a few seconds.

"Are you ok?" Peatmoss asks. She just sits and rubs at her eyes with her hooves before staring at him again. "Do you sell clothes?" he asks as he glances awkwardly around. Shielding his body with his wings.

"Clothes? Oh! Ohhh. Sorry." She stammers. Averting her gaze to the wall. For a moment there I thought I just invented some sort of see-through clothing potion. No. this is The Hagraven's Cauldron. I only sell potions, tonics, elixirs, potion supplies and spices. You want Magpie's General Goods, nextdoor." she directs with her left hoof.

"Ah. Thanks for the help. sorry for interrupting you." he apologizes as he peaks back out the door before making a dash for the next shop.

"Not at all" she replies cheerily. "Come back anytime you need a potion or remedy. Oh! Wait! Do you have, any, feath..." she trails off as Peat's tail slips out of sight and the door closes. "Ahh! Mountain Flower, you dumb pony." she admonishes herself as she faceplants onto the counter. "They were right there! And you just let them slip right through your hooves."

Darting into the next shop, he looks around and finds it filled with all manner of household items. Everything from furniture too dinnerware. A Black and white griffin with a large pointed beak and blue wings, stands behind the counter with a rag in his claws, polishing a silver candlestick holder.

"Well hello there." greets the shopkeeper. "If it isn't Peatmoss, the little Pegasus bounty hunter. How can I help you?"

"What?" asks Peat. "How do you know who I am? I just got to town last night."

"Oh, a little Birdy told me." he answers with a smug grin, as he puts the candlestick stand back onto a shelf with the others. "More importantly, let's get down to business."

"But,"

"Welcome to Magpie's General Goods!" the griffin says. ignoring the question and going on with his sales pitch. The place where I'll give you the best deal on everything in Crown, or die trying. What is it you're looking for?"

"I, uh. Clothes! I need some clothing."

"Well you are in luck my friend." he exclaims as he walks over and opens a wardrobe. "Ever since the Equestrians have opened operations in Sweet Haven, we've been getting all sorts of the latest modern fashion all the way from Canterlot. That's right! The very city of the Sun Goddess herself!" With a flourish, he pulls out a prismatic rainbow dress with white trim and gold accessories.

"Uh, that's a dress for a filly." Peat deadpans. 

"Ah yes. This is just for show actually." The griffin returns the dress to the wardrobe. "If you know any Pegasus fillies that are looking for a dress, you'll know where to send them." Peat decides not to tell him that that dress design is so old, that it has already made it to the dress shops in his hometown of Wellshod. "Now this one," the shopkeeper pulls out a grey suit and top hat. "retails for around Three hundred pieces. But for you, I'll settle for two seventy."

"I was, hoping for, something a little more, local?"

"Ah right. For somepony who adventures through dungeons, you'll need something a little more rugged." Slipping the suit back into the wardrobe, he closes it and pulls out a box and rummages around for a few seconds. Pausing to give Peat's stature a look before diving back in. Then pulling out a rustic green and brown tunic and trousers. "Seventy five, er, seventy pieces. What do you say?"

"That, looks perfect. But. do you have anything cheaper?" The griffin narrows his eyes before setting the cloths aside and ducking down under the counter to pull out a ragged stained beige robe with a rope waist tie.

"Ten pieces. Take it or leave it."

"Ah. Just, the thing is, I was hoping you had something for, like, free?" The griffin gives him a glare at that. "It doesn't have to be much!" Peat pleads. Clasping his hooves together. "I have money. Just not with me. Please! I just need to borrow something to go get it. A blanket, rug, an old potato sack with holes! Anything please?!"

"Hmm." the shopkeeper muses. scratching the underside of his beak. "I'll tell you what." he answers. Laying the robe on the counter. "I'm going to just, leave this on the counter and turn my back for, oh, let's say, an hour. And when I turn back around, it better be right where I left it. Or the money it's worth." He growls. Tapping a sharp talon on the countertop. "But if it isn't. No matter where you hide. No matter where you go. The merchant gild will come for you. They will find you. And they will kill you." He finishes. leaning forward and fixing Peatmoss with a glare. "Understand?"

"Yes. I understand." affirms Peat. Pulling the robe off the counter and holding it in front of himself. "I'll be right back in less then an hour and buy the green one too." he reassures with an apologetic grin. "See you soon." The shopkeeper just cocks an eyebrow doubtfully as Peat pulls the robe on over his withers and dashes out the door.

Hastily tying the rope around his waist Peatmoss weaves his way across the market. Spotting a gap in the crowd, he dashes through. But just as he is about to make it to the open street back the way he came, a tan and white pony with baskets of vegetables steps into his path.

"Ah!" he shouts as he knocks into the pony and stumbles over. Tumbling face first into the cobblestone street.

"My cabbages!" wails the pony as the leafy green heads roll across the ground. "You clumsy horse! Why don't you watch, where, you're..." the pony trails off as he stares at Peat.

"Oh. Uh. Hello again." Peatmoss says sheepishly as he recognizes the pony who had yelled at him for flying over his field outside of town. "Sorry for-"

"Guards!" the pony screams. "Guards! Thief!" 

"Woah! Hold on there." Peatmoss said. Waving his hooves. Trying to calm the crazy pony.

"Thief, Guards! Murderer!"

"No! Stop it! I wasn't." But his pleas fall on def ears as the crowd around them solidifies to turn their ire on him again. At that, his flight instinct takes hold and he tries to spread his wings, but the robe is trapping them. Turning, he makes to run, but the screaming pony grabs him around the middle and drives him to the ground.

"No you don't!" growls the pony as Peat tries desperately to escape. "Guards! Guards there's a thief here!" Then a griffin guard appears out of the sky brandishing a spear, jabbing it towards Peat's face. He freezes, cringing away from the point. "Ha ha. Now you're gonna get it." crowed the pony as he releases him. "Guard! Arrest this Skyskeever! I saw him attacking my crops yesterday."

At that accusation, the crowd erupts in boos and hisses. Shouting in anger at Peat as he cowers at spear point. The imminent danger stirs Meadblood at the back of Peat's mind. Preparing to fight his way out as the crowd begins to turn into a mob.

"Hold on! Back off!" shouts the guard as he begins to realize he's losing control of the situation. The crowd pressing in. Farming tools appearing among the angry throng.

Just then. Another griffin guard slams down in the rapidly shrinking circle around Peatmoss and the guard. Rearing up on his hindpaws and letting loose a lion's roar.

"Stop this madness in the name of the Jarl!" he commands. The crowd scrambles back to make room. "The guard is here and is in control of the situation! Disperse!" Having subdued the mob, he turns to the first guard. "What's the meaning of this disturbance?" Then he spots Peat cowering on the ground. "You! What have you done?" he growls. Crossing his arms. Then Peat recognizes, he's the griffin he had met at the gate.

"I-"

"He's a thief!" interrupts the pony Peatmoss had run into, shouting as he steps forward. "I saw him yesterday! He came flying down out of the mountains and started tearing up my crop plot!" At that, the crowd begins to yell in anger again.

"Enough!" the guard shouts. Raising his talons to calm the crowd. "Pegasus you have been accused of crimes against the ponies of Gallops hold and disturbing the Jarl's peace. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I. It's not true. I didn't know It was illegal to fly over the farmland. This has been all a huge misunderstand-"

"Lier!" yells the farmpony cutting him off again. "You're a lier! I saw it all! Captain Saberclaw, arrest this Thief. This little Skeever is guilty!"

"THAT'S! Enough! Wheatsheaf." commands the guard captain. Silencing him with a glare. Then, looking between Wheatsheaf and Peatmoss, he gives a huff of frustration before turning to address the crowd. "Good ponies of Gallops hold, please disperse. The guard is in control of the matter, and will deliver the accused to Grover's reach. Where-upon he will be submitted to the Jarl's Court. Now please disperse."

"But Captain." whined Wheatsheaf. "he's guilty. I-"

"Are you questioning the good judgement of Jarl Galleon?!" snapped Saberclaw. Wheatsheaf flinches and lowers his head.

"No sir."

"Good. Because I think he will be much displeased with anypony who may be seen inciting a riot." Wheatsheaf blanches and shakes his head in fear.

"Thank you Captain." sighs Peatmoss in relief as the crowd breaks up. grumbling amongst themselves as they diffuse. "For a moment there, I thought they might try to tear me apart."

"Don't be so thankful pegasus." warns the Captain. Turning and fixing him with a glare. "The Jarl can think of worse punishments for the crime you stand accused of." he punctuates by jabbing a claw at Peat's nose. Causing him to throw his hooves up in surrender. "I warned you to keep your muzzle clean. Now look at the mess you made! I told you that disrespect of the law ends in your death. But I didn't specify by who or how. Did I?" Peat gulped as Saberclaw places a talon on his sword hilt. "So be thankful to the Jarl. Because I really don't want to interrupt his morning to deal with a petty thief."

"I'm sorry." Peat says. Lowering his head submissively. "I'm innocent. I assure you. I won't resist, and will except any punishment he decides." Wheatsheaf grumbles something under his breath, but clams up at a look from Saberclaw.

"Very well. You!" The Captain points to the other guard. "Escort Wheatsheaf up to the Court. I'll take the, pegasus." Grabbing Peat by the scruff of his mane, he leads him none to gently through the market and up a long stair to pass through a secondary wall gate too the upper level of the city.

Though he is quickly ushered through the second plaza, he observs the strange tree dominating the center and standing as a focal point for the garden. It appears to be still in the grip of winter hibernation. Not dead and dried out, but bereft of any leaves. A stark contrast to the spring flowers and plants in full bloom around it.

Continuing up the street, they pass a shrine around a pair of statues. The one of a horned centaur. Depicted flexing it's muscled arms in a powerful stance. And the other, a bat-winged beast with a lion-like mane framing it's pointed face, and a long whip-like tail. Though fearsome in appearance, it's face has an expression of gentle kindness and caring. Before the two, stands a pony preacher. Shouting out to seemingly no one. Because the scant few ponies and guards nearby are paying him no mind.

Climbing a long set of switch-back stone stairs, they approach the highest house on the hill. The one most prominent at the peak. As they get closer, the more he can appreciate the grandeur of it's size.

As they pass beneath the decorative arches and approach the large double doors, the guards posted to eather side salute before opening the great hall. Entering, it takes Peat's eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark interior. But when they do, he sees a wide stone stair leading to the next higher level. To eather side of it are doorways leading into the Keep's foundations. Milling about are several Nobles and courtiers chatting with one another. A guard standing at the foot of the stair, brakes off his conversation with another and approaches them.

"Good morning Captain Saberclaw. I am the Housecarl on watch." he greets with a salute. "What can I do for you?"

"I have come to request a court of the Jarl's Justice."

"Very well. give me a moment to check with the Secretarius." The officer guard then leaves. Going up the stair and out of sight.

"So in the meantime while we wait, why don't you tell me your real name?" Saberclaw asks after a few minutes

"Huh? What do you mean?" Peat asks confused. His head held at an awkward angle from the Captain's hold of his scruff.

"Oh please! Meadblood." he hissed in a whisper. Glancing down at him. "Who do you think you're fooling? What's the name your mother gave you?" Peat scrunches his muzzle. Predicting the Captain's reaction. 

"Hm. If I tell you, will you loosen your grip a little?" He just shoots a glare down at him. His grip noticably tightening.

"Just answer the question."

"It's Peatmoss. Ok?" In his head, he counts down the seconds to the Captain's predictable reply.

"Peatmoss huh? So you're name is dirt."

'So called it.' "Yeah. What? You've been around ponies long enough? You should know that we sometimes have silly names."

"Huh. It's just, I would've thought it would be something more to do with the sky. Or something." Just then the guard returns.

"Scarlett will see you now." Proceeding up the stairway they reach a large open room. At the center, is a roughly chiseled, three-sided table decorated with carved runes and figures of ponies frolicking. To eather side, along rows of pillers, are long wooden tables and chairs. At the end of the room, on a raised dais, sits a kingly griffin Clothed in rich purple robes, with green head feathers and yellow beak. On his head sits a woven crown of grain stalks made of gold, crusted with white and yellow gemstones. He slouches as he rests his head on one claw. To his left is an earthpony, and to  his right, a griffin are having a heated conversation with one another over him.

But blocking their path, stands a bright-red griffin hen with white around her eyes and a large black beak.

"Captain Saberclaw." addressed the griffin hen. Glancing over the two ponies with him. "Why do you bring this petty business up here to interrupt the Jarl's schedule. He doesn't have time for every little squabble. Can't you pass judgement yourself? And leave his lordship a moments peace?"

"Apologies Housecarl Scarlett." Saberclaw answers with a dip of his head. "But Wheatsheaf here saw fit to stir up a mob with his accusations against this Pegasus." She turns her glare down at Wheatsheaf and he droops his ears. Shying away from her gaze. "So in order to calm the crowd and maintain the peace, I had to bring this, Peatmoss, to the higher court."

"Then throw him in the dungeon till time is available." she retorted with a huff. "Toss them both in for all I care."

"But Housecarl!" whines Wheatsheaf. "He started it. He's guilty!"

"I'm not!" retorts Peatmoss. "You just let your wild imagination get away from you. I wasn't-"

"You lie!"

"Shut it! The both of you!" snaps Scarlett. "The Jarl has no time to settle a dispute between two petulant-"

"Scarlett?" calls the Jarl. Raising a claw to interrupt the two that are with him. "What's going on over there?" She flinches in regret at being noticed. Taking a deep breath to recompose herself, she turns around and bows.

"Apologies My Lord for the interruption. A small domestic disagreement has arisen. Please ignore us. I'll see that it's delt with myself."

"Nonsense. Bring them forth." He commands. Sitting upright. "I apologize my friends, but Hold duties require my attention at the moment. We'll continue this conversation at a later time." They both give a polite nod and step back as Wheatsheaf and Peatmoss are escorted closer. Scarlett moving ahead of them to stand by the Jarl's side.

"Now then. What is the disagreement?"

"Jarl Galleon Sire." says Wheatsheaf. "This sky bandit attacked my crop yesterday. I saw him do it myself! He's guilty!" Peatmoss makes to object, but is given a shake from Saberclaw who is still gripping his scruff. Signaling him to remain silent till he is addressed.

"Attacking a crop is a strong accusation Mr, Mr eh, hm." Galleon says as he twittels one of his talons, trying to remember Wheatsheaf's name.

"Wheatsheaf, sire." prompts Scarlett.

"Wheatsheaf! Of course." he punctuates with a snap. "Forgive me."

"Yes Sire." Wheatsheaf affirms. Taking on a pleading, pitiable tone as he continues. "As you know, these weeks of their life are the most formative parts of their growth. If disturbed now, it will affect their future yield." Peatmoss can't help but to roll his eyes at Wheatsheaf for pouring on the drama.

"Yes yes. I understand." consoles Jarl Galleon. "Please don't destress yourself any further." Then, turning to Peat, he addresses him. "Attacking a Hold's crops is a serious crime. All the more considering the state of affairs of the entirety of Crown. What do you have to say in your defense?"

"Not guilty." Peatmoss responds with confidence. "Though, at the time I was unaware of the rules against flying around the city. I in no way even touched a single stalk of his field."

"YOU LIER!" shouted Wheatsheaf. "I saw him do it! He came zooming down out of the mountains, and I was right there to see him fly straight through. He's guilty!"

"Mr Wheatsheaf! If you please." reprimands Jarl Galleon. "We all understand that you're upset. There's no need to raise your voice any further." Upon noticing everyone is glaring at him, he cowers and apologizes. "Yes. Now then." Galleon huffs as he returns his attention to Peatmoss. "How is it you could be unaware of the rules against flying in proximity to the city? It has been, to my knowledge, a tradition, if unspoken rule, to refrain from aerobatics close to cities and towns?" he asks. Glancing over to Scarlett for confirmation.

"Not where I'm from." rebuts Peat bluntly. Then, realizing the rudeness of his tone, adds, "Your highness." apologetically.

"And which Hold would that be? Skycart?" Galleon asks as he raises an eyebrow. Clearly displeased with Peat's blunt words.

"Um, no." He stutters. Regretting his careless wording. Not sure if being forthright about his origins will help, or hinder his chances of leaving with his head still attached.

'Quick! Make something up.' Whispers Meadblood in his head. 'You don't want a repeat of what you got from Mr Evergreen. Do you?'

'But honesty is the best policy. What if I mess up and get myself in more trouble?'

'Tell them you're from Sugertop mountain range. It worked last time. They probably don't even know were that is. Just don't say any famous Equestrian places.'

'Well, as a wise pony once said, 'Fortune favors the bold.' he thinks, as a wild speculation of whether they would give him a summary execution or wait to do it publicly for trespassing in Crown. Taking a deep breath, Peatmoss looks the Jarl in the eye and follows his true nature by answering...

"I'm from Equestria."

'You stupid horse. I hope you didn't just get us killed.'

At his bold statement, everyone in the room seems to be stunned as they stare at him.

"Equestria you say?" asks the Jarl. breaking the silence. Peat just nods. "Where in Equestria?"

"Wellshod mountain. North of Canterlot. I grew up around Fourhooves junction."

"Hm." mused Galleon. "Could someone bring me a map of Equestria So I can varify what Mr... um"

"Peatmoss, sire."

"Mr Peatmoss's claims?" he asked. Beckoning with a talon. In a moment, a map is unrolled Infront of him and he scans over it to varify Peat's claim. Then finding it, he taps it as he asks. "What village is this named around the Junction?"

"It's Neighville."

"Ah! Well that clears that up." Galleon declares as he allows the map too curl back up and hands it off. "So you're new to Crown. Are you in any way affiliated with the Equestrian forces stationed in Haven hold?"

"No. I came up through Southrim."

"Southrim. Hm. Did you by chance pass through Squirestone in the past few days?"

"Yes." Peat answers. Growing uncomfortable at the line of questioning.

"And what was the condition of the Fort there?" he went on, leaning forward. "We've heard rumors of a dragon attack in that area. You wouldn't by any chance have insight on that. Would you?"

"Y-yes." Peat stammers again as he shuffles his hooves. The feeling of the walls closing in compelling him to spread his wings. But the robe over his back restricts them. I, was there when the dragon attacked. It was big and black. It tore the fort apart. I managed to escape with a friend."

"So it's true then." cut in the white and grey griffin courtier the Jarl had been talking to when they arrived.

"Scorpan's Mercy!" cut in the other. A red pony with a black mane. "First the heavy snow-storms on the shoreline, then the Stormwing rebellion, Greenmoor's destruction. Now we're hearing of an uprising flaring up down in Southrim over this Mead-Blooded character? Followed swiftly by a dragon moving in to roost! This has to be the end times!" Peatmoss looks back and forth between the two of them. Trying to understand what they're talking about. The Jarl slumps back in his throne with a wide-eyed look of apprehension on his face.

"The end times? Hardly." retorts the griffin. "The snow storms are just the last blusters of winter, and Balgriff's rebellion is all but dissolved. What we should be concerned about, is keeping tabs on the Mead-Blooded. If the Hoof in Claw Concordent has been broken, If he's just as terrible as the legends say, he's likely to fight the dragon first on the pony's behalf. In the meantime, we should strengthen the guard around the Southrim border. And if we can drive the dragon south, all the better."

"But if we do that, the neighboring holds will see a surge in soldiers as a provocation." says the red stallion. "We should first send pony representatives to treat with this, 'Mead-Blooded.' Assure him we bare no guilt in the matter. And instead, focus on resettling Greenmoor hold. Replanting their fields as soon as possible. With the coastal holds unable to plant any spring crops, we're sure to see famine before next winter even begins."

Peatmoss is distracted when Captain Saberclaw looks down at him with a questioning look. But after a few seconds he seems to dismiss the thought and boredly looks away. When he turns his attention back to the conversation, he notices The Jarl eyeing him up and down. An expression of suspiciousness on his face as he idly rubs the bottom of his beak with the back of a claw. A look of pondering in the gesture.

"You come to Crown in extraordinary times, Peatmoss of Wellshod." Galleon says. Causing the others in the room to fall silent. "I'm curious to hear what has compelled you to stray so far from your homeland. What brings you to the far north? Were you perhaps not aware of the dangers we face here in this untamed land?" he asks. Leaning forward intently.

Peatmoss was at a loss for words. Most everyone told him he was crazy for taking the journey. And since the night he entered Crown, the journey had been taken to the incredible. The mix-up in Southrim, the dragon attack at Squirestone, and the ghosts of Featherfall barrow. It all was so different from his old life. Get up, go to work, go home, and go to bed. Thinking back on it all. It was pretty unbelievable.

"The Jarl asked you a question." hisses Saberclaw. Shaking him by the scruff.

"Captain please, there's no need for that. You may release him." Saberclaw hesitates a moment, but with a begrudging nod from Scarlett he let go of Peat. "Go on Peatmoss. I can't help but think there's something more to you then meets the eye. What are you not telling us?"

"To be frank your highness, it's been fairly unbelievable. Like you say, Crown is nothing like Equestria. What I've seen and experienced in the past few days has been just crazy. And I doubt you'd believe me even if I told you."

"Please do tell us." he says excitedly. Settling back in his throne. "I'm always in the mood for a story. Even if they are fanciful." he finishes. Clasping his claws together and putting a childish grin on his kingly face.

"O-ok. Where do I start?" Peat thinks. Tapping his chin with a hoof.

"How about your arrival at Squirestone and the dragon attack?"

"Well, in order to explain that. I'll need to tell you about the mix-up in Southrim. You see. When I arrived. I went to the inn to get some rest. But I got caught up in a confrontation between Balgriff, with band of Stormwing soldiers and the town guard. I tried to get away but one of the guards mistook me for a Stormwing and knocked me unconscious." he explained. pointing out the red, but mostly hidden scars under the fur of his jaw.

"When I woke up, we were arriving at Squirestone. On account of a bandaged jaw, I couldn't voice an objection when they lined us up for an execution. Then, just as I was laid down on the block, The dragon appeared. It was big, and black as night! About three, or four stories tall." he emphasizes by throwing his forehooves up and out to show the size. "It started tearing up the stone buildings and tossing them around like toys. The Guards shot volley after volley of arrows at it, and nothing seemed to hurt it." He mimed pulling back and releasing arrows from a bow a few times before shrugging in despair. "During the Panic and chaos, some of the Stormwings helped me escape down and out through an underground passage."

"When we got out, we flew to Riverdale and my friend let me stay the night there. He offered to take me along to Stormhelm, but after all I had been through, I wasn't sure what I should do." He wraps his forehooves around himself and made a troubled face. "I had just lost all my clothes and money. I was questioning everything I knew. Before we parted ways, he suggested I go up to Featherfall Barrow, a Pegasus tomb nearby, and seek guidance from my ancestors. 

The next day, while I was in the village, I learned that the local shop had been robbed. And the thieves had gone up to the Barrow. Since I was heading up there, I promised to retrieve the stolen items. I, was forced to kill them." Peat says regretfully. Lowering his head in shame. "I wish I could have found a way to convince them to give up peacefully. But..."

"I would not distress myself over their deaths." states The Jarl in condolence. "Their deaths, though regrettable as their choices in profession, are the consequences of rejecting an honest living."

"Yeah. But still, it didn't make the weight of my soul any lighter." The shame of killing, of taking away those creature's chance of changing their ways, made his heart ake with sorrow. "But then," Peat begins again. His tone lightening as he shies away from his despair. "You won't believe what happened next! I saw..." he pauses. Not sure of how to describe Windcaller's appearance. "I saw..."

"What?" prompts Galleon as he leans forward. Seemingly cought-up in Peat's tale. "What did you see?"

"Saint Windcaller of the pegasi. He appeared in ghostly form and told me I was summoned too Crown to defend the ponies from the Windigo King."

"Ug." groaned the griffin courtier as he rubbed his brow with a claw. "Pony superstition and nonsense."

"Superstition?!" sputtered the stallion courtier. "Nonsense?! The Windigos are an ancient Evil Magic! They plagued the pony races for hundreds of years before the griffins came to Crown in the second era. It was because of the Windigo disaster that allowed King Grover the lesser's invasion to make such gains. After the Windigo's defeat, it took years before Crown's population was even able to stabilized. If the Cazador Knights had been at full strength, the Griffin's capture and colonization of Southrim and Jaegervale would not have been even possible."

"But, as you say, The Windigos were defeated. This weak, sheltered Equestrian has clearly been traumatized out of his little pony mind."

"But the snowstorms?" the red pony exclaims. "At this late time of planting season?! All the signs are here!"

"Have you even looked up at the sky, Providence?" asks the griffin. Thrusting his claw up in the air. "If they were here, don't you think someone would have said something? Seen big horse ghosts flying around?"

"Oh you, Griffins!" grumbles Providence, the red stallion. As he crosses his forehooves in frustration. "You're so quick to dismiss pony's understanding of magic. Er, present Jarl excluded Your Highness." He looks too Jarl Galleon apologetically, who makes an understanding gesture with a claw. "But one little rumor of The Mead Blooded's return, and you, Galgalad of all griffs, go into a molting fit."

"With do reason!" Galgalad responds. "The song of his vengeance is one of bloody genocide against all Griffs. Cock, Hen, or Chick. None were spared. Even after his death, his legacy drove Grover the third's Court to behead their own king and sign the Hoof and Claw Concordent to save themselves from the mob of freed slaves he inspired. I remind you, I have a nest and hatchlings to think of. So with the news of his return, you see my concern. The very foretelling of his return is still a reason many Griffs refrain from abusing their fellow hooved countrymen.

"The Mead-Blooded's return was always more of cautionary prophecy to keep equal freedom under Griffin rule." Providence reassures with a roll of his eyes. "Since the signing of the Concordent, there has a-risen three equine Jarls. Possibly a fourth with the uprising in Southrim. So his coming now of all times makes no sense. This rumor is most likely a ploy by the Thieves Guild to upset the status quo and gane some advantage."

"My friends." cut in Jarl Galleon. "All this speculation is fascinating, but you seem to forget the object at claw." he said with a gesture to Peatmoss. "If his story is true, we may be in the presence of one of the foretold Harolds. Tell me Peatmoss. have you heard the Summons to High Rossguard?"

"I, don't know what you're talking about." Peat admitted in confusion.

"The Summons is a call from high atop Pinnacle mountain. It has only happened once before. Two years ago, was it?" he asks. Looking to those at ether side of him. "Ironbloom of the Mighty Helms went up there and trained with the Neckbeards. When she returned, she came back a mighty warrior."

"Ironbloom?" asks Peat. The implications of her death worrying him. "Do you mean Ironbloom, Burnished Bronze's daughter?"

"The very same. Why? Do you know her?" Galleon asks. Seeing the haunted look come across Peat's face.

"Oh no." he whimpers. Putting his hooves on his head.

"What's wrong?" Peatmoss gives a sigh of sadness before answering.

"She's dead. In Squirestone, she was one of the Stormwings the guards had captured. During the dragon attack, she was shot by someone with an arrow. I was there to witness her last moments.

"No!" Providence gasps. His face a look of fear. "This can't be! One of the Harolds dead? How can the gods have allowed this?! Did Windcaller say anything to you about this? What words of council did he give you? Tell us."

"I'm sorry. But he told me nothing of Ironbloom. He only told me to find the pieces of the Rainbow Warrior and come here to Gallops Hill. He told me I would find more like me here."

"How can Haven have done this too us?" Providence demands angrily as he looks to Galleon. "They had to know who she was. How could they not? They've doomed us all."

"This is most distressing news." stated Jarl Galleon. Furrowing his brow and rubbing the underside of his beak. "If Haven's guard had Balgriff and his closest supporters in custody..."

"Now that I think of it," joins in Galgalad. "A summary execution at Squirestone makes no sense. Even though he is a rebel, a Jarl is not someone you can just execute without trial."

"Yes." agreed Providence "He should have been taken back to Sweet Haven's Rest to stand trial against a court of hold representatives. Why would Queen Gwendolyn try to violate the jarl's due process? Such an action out-right spits in the face of Stormhelm's people. Could she possibly handle this matter any worse?"

"Damn her!" shouts Galleon. Slamming his fist on the arm of his throne. "Even if it was not by her word, this blunder has upset the balance of law! Her incompetence as a leader is a disgrace. I've half a mind, to believe the interference of the Solar imperium was a blessing from the gods. I wonder what the other Jarls think on this matter."

"If it pleases you Jarl," asks Providence. "I'll see to drafting a letter of admonishment to her jarlship."

"Hm. Perhaps letters to the other Holds as well." suggests Galgalad. "This news must be spread. It may be time to call a Moot to discuss the acting High Queen's actions."

"Very well." affirms Galleon with a nod. "Have them ready by the end of the day for me to look over and signe."

"Ahem." Wheatsheaf clears his throat. Raising his hoof to get attention. "Sire, my field?"

"Ah yes! Of course. Forgive me for getting distracted." apologizes Jarl Galleon. "What is the approximate value of the crop's loss?"

"Ah, well... It's difficult to say. I won't really know for sure till harvest." Galleon raises an eyebrow. "Ah! That is to say, my barley is temperamental if it is subjected to, uh, arial trauma."

"What you're saying is, there is no visible evidence of damage?"

"Yes! Er no. It's only something an earthpony can tell." he finishes. Waving his forehooves in exasperation.

"Told you I didn't touch it." mutters Peat. But he gets a flick in the ear from Saberclaw and a glare from Wheatsheaf.

"Hm. Perhaps then I can contact the planter guild." suggests Galleon. And Wheatsheaf's eyes go wide. "I'm sure they can assess the damage and give-"

"NO! No no no there's no need to bother them with this. Heh heh heh." Wheatsheaf says nervously "They're busy enough as it is. Now that I think about it, I maaay have exaggerated a little bit."

"You MAY, have exaggerated?!" growls Scarlett as he cringes under her sour glare.

"A little bit." he squeaks

"Ah! Well that settles it." declares Galleon. Clapping his claws together. "I, Galleon, Jarl of Gallops Hold, do here-by dismiss the charges levied by Wheatsheaf against Peatmoss. As he is a guest to the Hold, and did accidentally trespass upon Wheatsheaf's field. For recompense I grant a percentage of produce be dropped from his seasonal tithe for the current cycle. Is this ruling acceptable to you both?"

"Oh yes Sire! Thank you Sire." says Wheatsheaf eagerly. Clasping his forehooves together and nodding vigorously. Peat just nods in acceptance.

"Very good then. Wheatsheaf, you are dismissed." After bowing low, Wheatsheaf turns and trots quickly off.

"Now then Providence." Galleon says, turning to his Courtier. "This news has convinced me to consider your proposal. Show me what you have planned for the expansion into Greenmoor."

Pulling out and unrolling a map, Providence begins explaining areas and logistics. Pointing out on the map his plans as his Jarl follows intently. After a few minutes pass of the three of them talking amongst each-other, Peatmoss gets the notion that they've forgotten he was there. Glancing around, he turns to leave but is grabbed by Captain Saberclaw and yanked back into place.

"Stay putt till you're dismissed, Pegasus." he growls in a low voice. "What? Do you have somewhere else to be?" he asks, but goes on before Peat can answer. "Show some respect. Whatever plans you may have aren't even remotely more valuable then The Jarl's Court. So be considerate of his time and wait."

"I actually made a promise to the shopkeeper at-"

"It can wait. now be silent." Saberclaw cut him off. Peatmoss looks up at a nearby window and tries to judge how long he has before the hour he was given is up.

"Yes, that sounds good." The Jarl concludes with a shuffle of paper. Drawing back Peat's attention. "You have my leave to begin immediately."

"As you please My Jarl." Both Providence and Galgalad bow and walk off.

"Now then." Galleon addresses Peat straightening up in his throne. "Tell me Peatmoss, Do you plan on staying long in our Hold?"

"I, don't have any plans to leave anytime soon your highness."

"Very well. Do you have relations in the Hold here? Or what arrangements for accommodations do you have?"

"Hm. Well, before Ironbloom died she suggested I inquire in Rossvaskr. She told me her friends there would be welcoming and give me a place to sleep."

"Ah. The Mighty Helms. Very good. They are a honorable, if ruff-spoken lot. Now, I hear tell that down in your homeland of Equestria, that Pegasi do a wonderful job of using clouds to distribute water across the land. Would you have any experience in such things?"

"Yes actually." says Peat. Brightening at the mention of a familiar topic. "I was an assistant supervisor on the weather team back home before I came here."

"Excellent! Then I hope, if called upon, you may be willing to assist in crop watering? I ask because, as I recall, Ironblood of Rossvaskr is the only other Pegasus currently residing in Gallops Hill. And he's fairly up in years, so he's not capable of much help with weather anymore."

"I will. But. I'm just one Pegasus. If I'm able to find a sufficiently heavy cloud, I could water a standard ten by ten square of ground. You see, back home, we have cloud factories that produce heavy clouds. Me by myself would take a good hour or two to pack together a sufficiently dence cloud. Much longer if I have to gather them together myself. Unfortunately. Without a team of Pegasi, you'd probably be better off having me carry buckets of water from the river. Just for the same time and effort to water the same plot of land."

"Hm. I see. Well, there was no harm in asking. Perhaps I could negotiate with Skycart to supplement their produce pay with Pegasus workers. Would you be willing to assist in supervising such a team?"

"Sure. It's not going to be easy if they're not used to the job. But it's possible. I'll need a team of at least five to start. Depending on their skill, we could cover a few crops a day.

"Excellent. I'll have my griffins look into it."

"My Jarl." cut in Scarlett. "Having so many Pegasus flying in proximity to the city is going to pose a major security risk."

"Not to mention how the Planters Guild will kick up a fuss over it." added Saberclaw.

"Oh you're probably right" sighed Galleon as he put a claw too his face and pulled down in a weary gesture. This'll probably take years of committee and paperwork to implement. But perhaps they'll be more accommodating with the expansion into Greenmoor. It's farther from the river, and city. We'll have to see. In the meantime." Galleon says. Rising from his throne and walking upright on his paws too Peat. "I would like to present you, Peatmoss of Wellshod, with this token of my appreciation." Taking out a small silver broach, The Jarl leans down and pins it on Peat's robe. "Wear it with pride. It will show my subjects you are in my favor. And will assist you in settling in." He returns to his throne and sits.

"Oh! And, as your story suggests. Am I to understand, you are alone here in Crown?"

"Um. If you mean family or friends, Yes. My parents and brothers and sisters are still down in Equestria."

"I see. Well as I am aware. There's a few eligible fillies here in the city that may take an interest in you. If your plans change in regards to taking up residence here in the Hold. Do please let any of my officers know. I very much would like to keep an eye on your progress. If you are indeed a Harold of Rainbow, I would consider it an honor to give you a home here in the Keep. That will be all. You are dismissed." Peatmoss bows followed by Saberclaw. As he turns to go, The Captain beckons Peat to follow.

As they decend the stairs and reach the front doors to the Keep, Saberclaw turns to him and begins.

"Do you understand what that broach The Jarl gave you means?"

"Uh."

"It means, my guards will give you more lenience then usual. But that doesn't give you license to abuse the law. It is a great honor he's bestowed upon you. So you'd best treat it with respect. and don't go pawning it off for a drink or quick cash. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now go on and stay out of trouble." Saberclaw concludes. Shewing him out the door.

Stepping out into the mid-morning daylight, he looks down at the broach pinned to his stained robe. it's silvery shine looks so out of place on the ratty garment. Then, he's reminded of his promise to the General goods shopkeeper.

"Oh Goddesses!" he says to himself. looking up at the morning sun. "I hope I'm not too late!" Dashing back down through the city to Bernie's forge.

* * *

Back at the General goods shop, Magpie sits as he leans over an account book and scratches away with a quill. Writing out figures as he takes inventory.

Suddenly, his peaceful zen is interrupted as the door flies open and in gallops Peatmoss.

"I'm sorry!" Peat cries as he lunges over the counter and hugs the startled clerk. "I'm sorry I'm so late! I got caught up in a meeting with the Jarl and couldn't get back in time. Please please please don't be mad. I'll pay you. Just don't call the guard on me pleeease!" Magpie cringes as Peatmoss stares pleadingly up in teary eyes.

"Alright already. Just, let go of me before you get pony snot all over my feathers." he relents as he pushes Peat off himself. Running his claws through his neck feathers, he checks for dampness as Peatmoss pulls out a small bag of coins and dumps it out on the counter.

Pulling out the green outfit from under the counter, he slides it over to Peatmoss as he counts out eighty pieces. He is momentarily distracted by the sound of Peat's heavy bags dropping to the floor with a jingle. Shedding them to change out of the robe to the new outfit.

"Say. Is there anything else you need?" Magpie asks nonchalantly as he deposits the gold into a chest. "I've got some magic scrolls, potions, and accessories, you may be interested in?" Peat grunts something as he struggles to pull the tunic down over his head. He didn't have any experience with non-buttonup clothes.

"Come on you stupid, Arg!" Finally, his head pops up out of the neck hole, only to growl in frustration as the shirt constrains his wings.

"What's rong?"

"No wing holes." he answers. Turning his back to show the wing lumps under the tunic.

"Oh, sorry. I normally have only Earthpony customers. Hm. But I could modify them for you for, say, thirty pieces."

"Really? You do tailory?"

"Sure!" Magpie answers. Pulling out a needle and thread. "I can do it standing on my head if you got the gold."

After taking some measurements and marking for wing holes with a piece of charcoal, Peat returns the tunic to Magpie who promises to have it finished by the evening. In the meantime he cut holes in the robe. Peatmoss struggles to put on the trousers, much to the entertainment of Magpie, but after a few minutes he is able to get it right. It squeezed and pulled at odd places, like a second baggy skin over his rump and hindlegs. He didn't like it, but was hopeful he would get used to it. He had to admit though, it kept the cold air off his hind end. Once again causing him to speculate, was he getting numb to the cold, or was he just climatizing to the weather?

Trotting out of the shop, he fought the urge to buck as the pant fabric slid up and down his legs with every step.

"This is gonna take some getting used to." he grumbles too himself. Pausing, he gives his wings a stretch and experimental flap. The overall baggyness of the robe and trousers discourages flight, and he found himself regretting giving up Ironbloom's coat. It was so much snugger to his body then these, allowing a greater freedom of movement. "Oh well. Eazy come, eazy go."

Glancing around the plaza, he sees that most of the morning shoppers have dispersed. Now only a few wonder between the stalls. Spotting the vegetable stand he had been at earlier, his stomach gave an impatient grumble, reminding him he hadn't had breakfast yet.

Trotting up to the stall with an air of confidence, he picks out a bundle of carrots and places it onto the counter.

"I would like to purchase one bunch of carrots please." The mare turns from arranging her produce and deadpans as she looks him up and down.

"You again. You've got alot of nerve to show you're face around here, after that incident earlier."

"Why? Is there somewhere else I should be?" her expression broke to uncertainty at his boldness.

"Well you, I thought, uh." she sputters.

"Forty pieces was it?" he asks as he pulls out an appropriate size bag and slides it over the counter too her. "Keep the change." With that, he picks up the bundle in his teeth and turns to trot off. Suddenly, a little weight lands on his back with a foal-like warcry, and two little forehooves wrap around his neck. Squeezing with all their foalhood might.

"Arr! I got you now thief. Nopony breaks the law on my watch! Grrr." Turning his head, he sees a young, maroon and white filly perched on his back. Gritting her teeth as she tries to wrestle him into submission.

"Oh nooo!" he cries out dramatically. Playing along with the little filly's daring attack. Drawing everyone's attention in the vicinity. "I've been captured by the Famous Filly, Thief-catcher! I regret being a bad pony!" With that, he sways a few times before flopping onto his side. Allowing the foal to stand on top of him, beaming with pride at her accomplishment.

"Did you see that mommy?! I captured-ed the bad pony! Did you see? Did you see?" the filly asks. Jumping up and down on top of Peat.

"Uh, yes I did Turnips." replies the shopkeeper. Leaning over the counter, she looks down at Peatmoss in confusion and asks. "What are you doing?"

"Being captured of course." he states obviously, before flopping his head back down and sticking his tongue out for good measure.

"Yeah. Being captured." affirms the filly. Crossing her forehooves. "For I, the Famous Thief-catcher Filly have captured him. Can I have a apple slice now?!" she asks her mother with wide, hope-filled eyes.

"Um, sure thing Turnips." she answers with a nicker. "You can let the poor pony up now. I think, he learned his lesson?"

"Yippee" squeals Turnips as she dashes to her mother's side behind the counter.

"So, what do you do for a living?" asks the mare as Peatmoss gets up and brushes himself off. "Are you a teacher or something?"

"Oh, no." chuckles Peat. "I'm just a traveler from Equestria. Come to visit Crown."

"Equestria huh? Are all Equestrians this good with foals?" she asks. Stroking the head of her filly as she munches away at a piece of apple. 

"Not that I'm aware of. I just think foals are fun to talk with. At least more fun then some grumpy, judgey clerk ponies I've met." he finishes with a teasing glance at the mare. She just scrunches her muzzle with a snort.

"Just give it some time. You'll find out soon enough how fun the local winged skeevers are." she answers with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, my name is Spring Dew, and this is my little foal, Sweet Turnips."

"Hey! I'm six winters old now. I'm not a little foal!" protests Turnips

"I can see that." reaffirms Peat. "And what a brave, strong filly you are." Turnips puffs up her cheeks and stands up taller at his words. "My name is Peatmoss and I'm twenty one."

"Woah!" exclaims Turnips as she stares up in wonder at him. "You're almost as old as Mommy!"

"Turnips!" admonishes Spring Dew. Flushing with embarrassment. Turnips's next words are stifled as her mother clamps a hoof over her mouth. "Ha ha! Foals. No filter." she stammers with a bashful grin on her muzzle. Just then, Peat's stomach interrupts with a loud growl.

"Tee hee." giggles Turnips. "He has the rumblies."

"Heh heh. Yeah. I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday."

"Oh! Well, I hope you enjoy those carrots." dismisses Spring Dew. Grateful for an excuse to end the conversation. Giving the two a parting hoof-wave, he trots off up the hill. Set on relaxing in that garden he passed to enjoy his vegetables.

Selecting a bench, he settles down and begins nibbling at one of the carrots. Glancing around, he sees the preacher pony he had heard earlier was gone, leaving the garden peacefully quiet and serene. Closing his eyes as he eats, he listens to the birds tweeting and an occasional wind blow through the branches of that strange tree at the center of the garden. A whispering murmur, just out of range of his hearing to be understood.

He pauses his nibbles to concentrate on the perceived words. Squinting up at it's bare, grey branches. Then he notices a pony sitting at it's pale trunk. Their white hooves pressed against the pinkish white bark. The pony wore a dull orange robe and yellow hood and mantle. He watches as they pushed at the trunk, the pony's white muzzle moving slightly as they spoke quietly to themselves. Perplexed at the pony's actions, he absently moved the carrot to the left side of his muzzle to take a larger bite. But as he bit down, a painfully familiar stab of agony shot through his jaw. He let out a stifled yelp as he cradles his jaw. Wincing in pain till it passes.

'I thought I was past this.' he moaned  to himself as it slowly fades again. Giving the spot a gingerly prod, he painfully confirmed it was right where his jaw had broke. 'Garard warned me not to over work it.' he internally admonished himself. 'I should've taken the hint when I felt it through my sword. Stupid, stupid pony.' He gave a sad whimper as he realized he may need to put off eating for another day.

"Oh. You poor pony. What's rong?" Looking up, he sees the robed pony had approached him. She was a white filly with light blue freckles and icy blue mane.

"My jaw got broke a few days ago." he answers through gritted teeth. "And I'm so hungry." he lamented. Looking down at his dropped carrot. His stomach gave an affirming gargle.

"Aw. You poor creature." she cooed. "lie down and let Crystal Springs help you." Gently she guides him to lay down on his back. Peat flinches when she moves to cradle his head in her hooves. "Just relax." she reassures. "I have much experience in bone mending." Closing her eyes, she tenderly caresses his muzzle for a few minutes. Then frowns.

"You used a potion to heal this. Didn't you." she asks in a disapproving tone. He nods, and Crystal Springs sighs at that.

"What's rong with potions?" he asks in a mumble. She shakes her head and sighs again.

"Potions are... fine, for emergencies. But they force healing. And when the bones haven't been properly set, like your jaw was, it'll leave the body horribly disfigured." she explains as she turns away and digs at the ground. Peatmoss closes his eyes and tries to ignore the pain as she goes on in a calming tone. "That is why recovery should be done slowly over time. The body should be allowed to guide the healing naturally. It knows best how to mend the wound. If you rely on just potions to heal your injuries, you will never be free of aching pains. And suffer for the rest of your days. We Earthponies however, have the unique abilities to guide the body's healing through our connection with Equis." 

Then he feels something damp and crumbly push against his muzzle. He opens his eyes to see her sandwich his face with two clods of dirt. One in each of her hooves.

"Just lay still. The energies of Equis can expedite the process." Bowing her head, she closes her eyes in concentration. Peatmoss was just beginning to think the filly was talking mumbo jumbo. But to his surprise, the pain slowly subsides. Replaced by a rush of energy buzzing through his muzzle.

Then, the buzz fades as he breathes in the earthy aroma of the dirt she held to his nostrils. A calm washes over him, and his eyes fall shut as his consciousness comes adrift in what-ever energies she was channelling. He feels like his body is sinking through thought and time, into a dark realm he had never been, yet strangely felt so familiar.

o O o

The darkness turns brown and he rises up through the ground. As he emerges from the dirt, he sees grass and flowers towering over his head. As if he were an insect in a garden. He flaps his wings and flies up above the plants and beholds a great pink tree filling his view of the sky. Flying up and around it's massive trunk, he reaches it's branches. The green leaves and bright purple blossoms swaying in the gentle breeze make soft indistinct whispers. 

He watches as petals drop off and approach him in a whirlwind. Swirling around him as he hears a mournful cry, like a mare whinnying to a lost foal.

"Oak Seed!"

Peatmoss suddenly feels an emptiness form in his hart and he looks down to see a black cloud seeping from his chest. A face appears with glowing blue eyes and a jagged mouth of teeth. It opens wide in a scream of an unknown language, yet the meaning of the words form in his mind.

"This tisn't what I want-eth. He givest me not another choice. I beg-est thee pardon."
o O o

Peatmoss's eyes snap open and he sees Crystal Springs looking down at him with worried eyes.

"Huh?" Peat asks as he sits up and looks around in confusion. The vision fragmenting into the mists of his mind.

"Your jawbone is now fully healed." she answers. "How does it feel?" He reaches up and touches his jaw and is surprised to feel no pain.

"It's fixed! I can't believe it!" he says in surprise. Poking and proding all over but finding not even a pinch of pain. Scooping up his carrots, he wolfs them down hungrily.

"Ah. That's good." she says in relief. "You seem to have passed out during the process. I thought for a moment I may have done something rong."

"Thank you, thank you so much" he said after swallowing the last of his carrots. "How much do I owe you?" he asks as he pulls out a bag of coins.

"Oh nothing at all." she answers waving a hoof. "As a priestess of the Great Creator, it is my duty to care for all her creations. Both great and small."

"Who?"

"You've never heard of the Great Creator?" she asks in astonishment. Peatmoss shakes his head.

"I'm sorry. I'm not from Crown. I don't know any of their gods."

"The Great Creator is the artist of all Creation. The first pony. The elder Alicorn. With quill in hoof, she drew our world on the canvas of existence. The mountains and valleys. The ground and seas. Every plant, animal, and creature that moves upon Equis. It was she who gave us life and a home."

"The only Alicorns I've ever heard of is Celestia and Luna." Peat says shrugging.

"The Equestrian goddesses." Crystal Springs huffed. Crossing her hooves in disapproval. "They are but mear mortals who stole the powers once held by the unicorn race. It was because of their foalish squabble that upset the cycle of night and day. How somepony can worship them as equals to The Creator is nonsense. The Equestrians look to the Sun, and are burned by it's rays. They call to the moon, and freeze in darkness. They deserve no praise for arresting the role of the unicorn race for themselves. It was because of this, unicorns fell to evil. They lost their purpose and did fell deeds to the poor Earthponies, and Pegasi. You, don't count yourself as one of them? Do you?" she asks. Noticing him slump and droop his ears.

"I, uh. Don't know." he mumbles. Looking down at his hooves. "When I, came to Crown, I had to... do bad things, to ponies in order to survive."

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" she says in regret. Putting her hooves to her mouth. "I didn't know."

"I always believed they were watching over us all. Caring for us, and guiding us no matter what. But, every day since I stole that first pony's life, I've felt so alone and empty. Like I don't deserve their love anymore. I'm, a bad pony." he stutters. Holding back tears. "I, I wish I d-died instead."

"No. Don't do that." Crystal says comfortingly as she wraps her hooves around him. "We all must do what we can to preserve and protect all of Her creations. That includes yourself. This world is a fallen and brutal place. But there is yet still beauty to be protected. And it's worth fighting for. Tell me." she asks. Rubbing at his withers and leaning back to look into his eyes. "Do you feel delight in destruction? Do you desire to hurt or bring harm to anything?"

"No." he replies. Shaking his head and sniffing.

"Then you are still a good pony."she reassures. Patting him on the hoof. "You may have made a mistake, but you did what you could to protect yourself. As children of The Creator, we must not seek to waist or abuse Her gifts too us. Take the Gilded Green for instance." she explains. pointing to the tree at the center of the garden. "There are some on Gallops that would have it cut down and removed. For no priests of the Elder Green yet live. And since the Griffin's invasion and burning of the Hold, it has remained dormant and leafless. Yet every day, I have looked after it. Guarding it. protecting it from harm."

"Why is it still dormant? How come it hasn't grown any leaves?" he asks as he looks up into it's bear branches.

"Because it is grown from a cutting of the Elder Green. The first tree. When the city was burned, it went to sleep to avoid the fire. And someday, it has been said, it will reawaken. All that it needs is to be reconnected to it's parent. Place your hoof on it's trunk, and you will feel it's slumbering mind. It's desire." she finishes. Stepping over and placing her hoof against the tree. Closing her eyes as she does.

A little doubtful, he does as well. He expects to feel something like when she healed his jaw. But after a few minutes, he is disappointed to feel nothing but it's bark beneath his hoof.

"Do you feel that?" she asks. looking over to him with a smile. Sadly he shakes his head and lets his hoof fall back to the ground. "Are you sure? Everypony before, always feels the energy of Equis through the Gilded Green."

"Not me." he says sadly as he looks up at it's branches. They wave gently as another breeze blows through them. Then he catches a whispering sound and he flicks his ears as Crystal speaks up. Drowning out it's words.

"Maybe you're not concentrating right. Try-"

"Shush." he cuts her off. Raising a hoof and focusing his ears. "I think I hear something." Jumping up, he flies to one of it's central branches and perches there.

"What are you doing!" she hisses in alarm. "Get down from there before you break something!"

"Shush shush." he hisses back. "I think I hear something. Be quiet for a few minutes."

Closing his eyes and stretching out his wings, he concentrates as another breeze builds and blows through. Then he hears the subtle flapping of tiny wings. Like when a moth would fly in his window back home. Attracted by the room's lamplight. Opening his eyes, he sees ghostly images of small flying ponies fluttering from blossom to blossom.

"I see them!" he whispers loudly.

"See what?" she whispers back up.

"I see ponies, flying around the branches. Like Pegasi, but with, like, butterfly wings and antennas." he describes as he watches them dig around in the tree's flowers. Gathering pollen like bees. It all seeming to be like afterimages of a memory.

"Ponies with butterfly wings?" she asks in confusion. "Wait! You see the Gusties!" she suddenly shouts in excitement. "Where!" she demands. Her eyes wildly darting around the branches. Even galloping to the opposite side of the tree to look.

"They look like ghosts. They're gathering something from the blossoms."

"You see the blossoms too?" she asks in confusion. Her eyes seemingly not finding what he's describing. "What color are they?"

"Purple. Why?"

"So you can see them too now. But how come you didn't when you... Oh! Crystal Springs, you dumb pony." she suddenly admonishes herself by smacking a hoof to her forehead. "He's a Pegasus. Wind is his element, not earth. Of course he won't see it like Earthponies." Peatmoss thinks, and decides that her reasoning makes sense as the images fade away with the wind.

"What are Gusties?" he asks as he rejoins her on the ground.

"They're a species of Equine that sadly disappeared hundreds of years ago, during the great Windigo Winter. Nopony knows what became of them."

"So what does it mean? How come I can see them if they're not really there?"

"What you're seeing are dreams of the Gilded Green. Memories of times long ago. The Gusties we're said to gather pollen from the Elder Green and carry it far and wide to all the forests of Crown. Keeping every tree connected to the First tree. But sadly, with they're disappearance, the two now remain disconnected. The Elder and Gilded." 

"Didn't you say something about waking it up? How can we do it?"

"Well, I do have a theory, but." she pauses and grits her teeth in a cringe.

"But what?"

"I think if we get a few drops of sap from the Elder Green, it may be enough to stir it too blossom. Maybe then... well. It's all the further I got."

"It's a start. Where is the Elder Green?"

"It grows in a valley on the other side of Pinical Mountain. In Hot March. But to even pierce it's bark, you'll, need to..." she trails off and hangs her head in sorrow.

"What? What's the matter?"

"Are you familiar with what a Hagraven is?"

"It, sounds familiar. But I can't remember where I heard of it." Peatmoss waits until Crystal Springs can muster up the courage to explain.

"It may not be very common outside of Crown, but... Whenever a pony and Griffin couple together, the offspring is born predominantly as the mother's species. And rarely is the female in danger."

"What?" asks Peat. "Is that like, were hippogriffs come from?"

"Technically, by the definition, yes. They sometimes bare one, or rarer still two small traits of the other species. But are easily able to pass as one or the other. If they ever reproduce, the trait isn't passed on. However, if the female is taken without love magic... The offspring emerges a horribly twisted amalgamation of the two. And often results in it's mother's painful death."

"Oh." Peat remarks. Frowning sadly.

"A few years ago, a mare from outside town was brought in to the temple. She was in labor. I did everything I could think of to help, but...  I had heard the rumors, but, I believed that I could raise it right on my own. Teach it to love and do good. I, was rong. Bad things started to happen around the temple. I had my suspiciouns, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions. Then... one of the foals was found dead in one of the water cisterns. Their, forehooves, they were... Oh Goddess." she brakes down in sobs. Peatmoss places one of his wings over her back to comfort her. After a minute, she calmed and continues

"I confronted her about it, but she wouldn't say anything. Later that night, I checked her bed, but she was gone. Going outside, I spotted her crouching down here at the Gilded Green's Roots, cackling. I snuck up behind her and saw it using the foal's still bloody bone to carve this, symbol, into the Gilded Green." Stepping forward, she pushes aside some of the flowers to reveal a crudely cut shape of a ram's head.

"Then it attacked me." she states sadly as she pulls back her hood and mane.  Showing him an old, jagged scar on the side of her temple above her ear. Fortunately, a couple of guards heard me screaming and ran it out of the city. That... knife, of her's. It's the only thing I can think of that might be able to tap the Elder Green to harvest some sap."

"Do you have any idea where... um." Peatmoss trailed off. Not sure what to call the creature.

"I named her Blossom Hope. But I doubt she'll respond to it. I've since heard that it has nested up at Orphan's Mesa. Up past Squirestone." Crystal Springs sighs and rubs at her eyes before continuing.

"I had so much hope that I could raise her to be an exception to the rule. But I should have been wiser. She started showing signs of her true nature from the very first year I was careing for her. I was too naive. She was born out of hate and lust. She could not feel love."

"Hagravens have a chaotic form of magic all their own. And she immediately began using it to terrorize the patrons and priests alike. I tried to empathise with her, talk to her. But I couldn't find any connection with her. I can't help but think, did my naive hope make me responsible for all the evil she's done?" Crystal Springs asks in a whimper. Hanging her head in shame. Peatmoss wrapped his other wing around her as she began to cry again.

"No. I don't think so." he comforted. "She was a thinking, feeling being. She chose to do evil, and you did everything you could to teach her. I'll go and take care of her if she hasn't changed."

"You will?" she asks. Looking up to him hopefully. Peatmoss nods with conviction. "It's very dangerous to confront a Hag. It's been several years since. She may have powers greater than you can handle."

"Don't worry. I'm not exactly a slouch myself. Besides I may be able to find some rough, tuff ponies who can help me."

"Really? Who?"

"I was told I could find the Mighty Helms up around here?"

"The Mighty Helms? They live over there in that, upsidedown boat-shaped hall." She pointed out up the street towards an oddly rounded-roof building, beyond a wooden archway. "You'd best have alot of money. They're not cheap to hire."

"Don't worry about it. I've got an in, if I join their gang." he says confidently as he turns to go.

"Ok. Let me know if you make any progress."

Trotting up the street, he approaches the hall. As Crystal Springs had described, it really did look like somepony had flipped over a wooden ship and made it into a house. It gave him pause to think of all the effort it would take to bring a ship this far inland, drag it up a mountain, and make it into a big house. The planking and keel looks to have been scorched with fire at some places. And a few of the planks were missing. At the center, beneath a row of shields that decorated the ship's rail, was a pare of double doors that he pulls open to enter.

Inside, the hall was predominantly a single room with doors on either end that separate the prow and stern from the larger middle room. At the center of the stone floor, was a long fire pit, smoldering with half-burned logs and sticks. Around it were sturdy wood tables, absolutely cluttered with dirty dishes and half eaten food. The hall was the definition of a pigsty. As if it had been abandoned by once noble ponies, and now was used as a den for wild animals.

Dispite the mess, Peatmoss saw an elderly mare moving about the room. Making slow, but steady progress cleaning up the trash and strewn about furniture. Seeing her struggle, his helping instinct kicked in and he began to do what he could to clean up. After a few minutes, she took notice of him.

"Wait a minute, you're not Green Pea." she said. Squinting at him.

"No. I'm Peatmoss. I just saw you struggling and thought I'd help-out."

"Oh that's very kind of you deary. But you need-int mind. It's my job to clean up."

"But look at this place." he responded. Gesturing to the mess with a hoof. It'll take you all day to clean this place up. Is it always this bad?"

"Well no." she answers. Glancing around. "It seems that one of the Helms threw a tantrum last night."

"Shame on them for making such a mess, then leaving somepony else to clean up after them. What are they? a bunch of foals? Speaking of, where is everypony?"

"Oh. It's really not my place to say, but lady Burnished Bronze bucked them all out when she came in this morning. You'll probably find them out back in the coliseum." Peatmoss snorts and trots over to the back double doors and goes out to see.

Outside the backdoors is a pavilion with tables and chairs. Beyond is a large patch of flat, sandy grass. Backed by a half ring of stone theater seating, facing the hall. Gathered around the center was a group of ponies watching two fighting.

Finding a gap, he joins the spectators and sees Axhaft and a filly rolling around, tussling. Axhaft was missing her helmet, her dark-orange striped mane messed with sweat and grit, and the other filly was dressed in leather scale armor.

Watching the two of them grapple with each-other as they grunt and squeak, rolling about in the sand. Trying to force the other into submission as the gathered spectators called on encouragingly to one or the other. It awoke a strange feeling inside him and his pants felt tighter. 

"Yeah! Get her leg behind her back!"

"Yank her tail. Show her who's top dog!"

"Bite her ear!"

"Get her on her belly! Make her taste that sand."

After a few more minutes, Axhaft manages to pin the other under her. Getting the filly into a headlock, she drives the filly's muzzle into the sand.

"Ok! I yield!" the filly shouts. Managing to turn her head to the side, and blowing puffs of sand as she struggles to raise her head. Tapping out desperately with a free hoof to signal she was finished.

"Haha!" howls Axhaft. Panting as she releases her and throws her forehooves into the air in victory. The gathered ponies cheer.

"Alright already." Grumbles the loser, spitting out sand. "Now get off me and let me up." Instead of complying, Axhaft puts her iron-shod hoof on top of the filly's head and shoves it back into the sand.

"Just solong as ye remember that taste Bright Buckler. An think twice next time afore ya question which o us is the big mare." Pressing once more on Buckler's head before she steps off to enjoy the applause of the watchers.

"Oy!" comes a shout of indignation to Peat's right. "Get yer feathers ot of me face!"

"Ga! Sorry." Peatmoss apologizes shamefully. Pulling his fully extended wings away from the greyish-blue stallion with a faded blue goatee.

"Oo are ye? An what ya doin here?"

"You!" says Axhaft angrily. Gritting her teeth and snortting as she scrapes at the ground with her hoof.

"I was just-"

"MEADBLOOD!" she shouts in a warcry as she charges at him, bowling him onto his back. Standing over him, Axhaft slams her iron-shod hoof down squarely on his left eye. Dazed, he blindly brings up his forehooves before she can strike again. Covering his face. But instead of going for his head again, she stomps her left hindhoof down on his belly. With a pained huff, he curls and rolls over onto his side causing her to loose her balance on top of him. Defensively, he swings his right wing up as he moves. Striking her across her muzzle, catching her off guard. Taking advantage of the stun, Peat gets to his hooves and leaps for the safety of the sky. But Axhaft recovers in time to jump after him, wrapping her forehooves around his left hindleg, arresting his ascent.

"Let go, of me, you, crazy pony!" Peat coughs as he flaps his wings, almost lifting her into the air.

"Not till ya give me ma money back ye job stealin skyskeeva!" Feeling her grip slipping on his pantleg as he shakes it to throw her off, she bites down on his hock.

"Ah! No biting!" Peat yells in alarm. Putting his right hindhoof on her snout and pushing. Axhaft growls something through her teeth as he mashes her muzzle with his hoof. Suddenly, there's a popping of stitches, followed by a loud (RIIIP!) Flying up, Peat lands on the pavilion roof and looks back at his hind end, he sees his pantleg has been torn off to reveal a reddening bite mark on his leg. Looking down from his perch indignantly, he sees Axhaft with the piece of ripped garment still in her teeth, shaking it back and forth like a dog. The gathered ponies below seem to find the spectacle amusing, as they chuckle and grin.

"What the hay is rong with you?!" he shouts down angrily. Pulling off the ruined pants and throwing them down at her.

"Woo-hoo!" shouts Bright Buckler. Waving a hoof in the air. "Take em off!" Spitting out the pantleg, Axhaft curls her hoof and waves it up at him as she shouts.

"Git back down ear and fight me like a pony ya cowardly hat-swipa!"

"Make me ya dirt-scraping ground-pounder." he replies. Impudently sticking out his tongue and blowing her a raspberry. causing the other ponies to laugh.

"I'm gonna make ye choke on them words!" With that, she runs out of sight beneath him and he leans forward to see over the edge too where she's gone. To his astonishment, her forehooves appear as they hook on the edge of the roof, followed by her angry face as she pulls herself onto the roof's gentle slope. "I'm gonna pluck ya fer wingen yer muzzle inta our turf. Ye worm-eyed hootin-block!"

"What are you talking about?" he asks in confusion. Stepping back and readying to dodge her next attack. "I went and talked with Bernie just like you suggested. What crawled up your tail?!."

"Ya come inta our territory, disguised as one oh us, taken our jobs, stealin our pay." She growls as she takes swing after swing at him. While he ducks and dodges away from her. "An now ya think we're suppozed ta welcome ye inta the pack?! Like ole mess-mates?! Ye flop-eared, potato sack wearin, pillow stuffer!" Seeing a pattern of openings after each of her swings, he dives forward and shoves her chest with his hooves. knocking her onto her back.

"Ironbloom told me, to take her coat. And for you to stuff it!" Peat clarified. Standing over Axhaft and pinning her down with one hoof. 

"Oh I'll stuff ya all-right. An ang ye from the Rossvaskr's framin!" she shouts. Suddenly bringing her rear hoof up between his legs. Kicking him square in his colthood. Peat stumbles back as the blunt strike radiates pain through his body.

"Ooo!" Came a shout from below. "Right between the thighs."

"That, was a low blow." Peatmoss gasps in pain.

"It's what ye deserve fer bein a rotten, feather-backed, nunkey. Ye owe me two hunrd gold!" she growls as she gets back up. Peat leaps into the air and flies backwards, across the gap between the pavilion and the up-turned ship. Taking refuge atop the keel as he tries to explain.

"If you're, talking about the, "job" I did at Buzzy's Brew. I was accidentally taken to be one of your gang. And they were so desperate for help, they practically forced me to kill that spider. They told me they've been waiting for weeks. I did the work. I get the pay."

"Mammoth shite! That money is ours!" Backing up, Axhaft makes a running jump across the gap and hits the hull with a loud thump. She nearly loses her grip, but using the sporadic missing planks, she is able to climb up to the keel. Facing off against Peat. "An I'm gonna beat your scrawny, feathery hide, till I gets it!"

She lunges for him. But with a flap of his wings, he lets her pass harmlessly beneath him and he kicks at her rump, sending her bellyflopping onto the roof.

"What's the matter Axhaft?" heckles somepony from below. "The pegasus too quick fer ye? Ha ha ha!" the watchers laugh.

"Graa!" roars Axhaft. Getting up and spinning around. her purple face flashing red. "Stand still ye slippery chicken!" she scratches at the wood with her hoof a few times before charging again. Crouching and spreading his wings as if to repeat his previous move, Axhaft leaps high to catch him. But instead of taking to the air, he lunges forward rolling in midair, and grabing her by the barrel. Using his wings as a pivot point, he rolls up behind her and kicks. Sending her smashing back-first into the carved, decorative wooden pony silhouette, mounted on the end of the keel.

"Face it filly." says Peat confidently. Spreading his forehooves and wings. "You can't beat me up here. All I need to do is fly in any direction and you can't even touch me."

"What, did you call me?" she growls in a low rumble. Rising to her hooves. Her hide ripples and her teeth look to grow sharper then he thought before. "I, Am Not, a little, Filly!" she roars. Turning to the wood decoration, she grabs it and pulls. Peatmoss watches in astonishment as her forehooves bulge with big muscles, and the wood silhouette moves with a splintering crunch. Tearing it free from it's mountings, she looks at him and winds up to throw.

Peatmoss dashes to the opposite end of the hull and takes cover behind the opposite wood decoration just as she tosses it. It hits it's sibling with a bang, and clatters to the planking. Sliding and bouncing off down the curve of the hull before falling too the ground with a thump.

"You're crazy!" he shouts at her as she approaches. Head bowed angrily.

"You called me a little filly!" she shouts back as she runs around the wood decoration to get at him.

"I did not!" he says as he runs around the other way. Keeping the wood decoration between them.

"Did too! You think I'm a weak little filly!" she looks around at him.

"Did not!" he asserts as he glares back. Skipping around the wood silhouette as she chases him. After a few seconds of this, he gets bored of the dance, and leaps away. Flying down to the ground.

"Oy! where are ya goin?! Get back ear an..." Suddenly she realizes how high up she is and throws her forehooves around the decoration, hugging it in fear. Landing on the ground, Peatmoss turns and notices her terror-stricken expression.

"What's the matter? You're not afraid of heights? Are you?"

"N-no" Axhaft stammers. glancing around desperately for a safe way to get down. The other ponies chuckle as they all watch her struggle. And he can't help but join their laughter as he watches her let go and carefully make her way down the curving slope of the planking.

But as she goes, he quickly recognizes the danger of her situation. Suddenly, she starts to lose control and slip. She screams in terror as she picks up speed. Leaping into the air, he catches her in his forehooves. Axhaft stares at him in surprise, but then smacks him angrily with a hoof.

"I ain't yer filly in destress! Let me go!" she yells. Squirming and kicking.

"Hold still! Before I-." Before he can land, she throws herself out of his grip and falls to the ground. Hitting it with a sickening (SNAP!) "Oh No!" he says in horror as he sees her sprawled on the ground groaning. The others however, seemingly unaware of the situation, erupt into full-blown laughter. Groggily Axhaft tries to get up and Peat lands at her side to try and stop her. "Don't move! I think you broke something. Just lay still and-"

"Get off me!" she shouts. Swinging her left hoof at him to ward him away. It bends unnaturally like a wet noodle.

"Lay still!" he says in alarm as she tries to get to her hooves. "Your leg is broken!"

"Sod off!" she snaps back at him. "I donna need any oh yer hel-." She is cut-off as she tries to put weight on the broken leg. Witch immediately folds under her, causing her to slam face first into the dirt. The Mighty Helms burst into even more riotous laughter.

"This isn't funny guys!" he shouts at them angrily. Thoroughly upset at their apparent lack of concern for their companion.

"Relax." says the greyish-blue stallion. Stifling his laughter as he trots over. "She'll be fine in a few minutes. She's seen worse." Before Peat can ask for an explanation, the backdoors of Rossvaskr slam open and Burnished Bronze appears in the doorway with a roar.

"What's the meaning of all this fracas?!" The laughter immediately dies as everypony stares in fear at her. "Ave ye no respect fer the bereaved!?" Peatmoss feels the need to cower as she sweeps her furious gaze over the group. He could swear he felt the ground shake as she stomps right up to the greyish-blue stallion. "Scorch! what's the meaning oh this riotous disturbance?" Scorch, to his credit, didn't show half as much fear as the rest of them. Standing muzzle to muzzle with Burnie.

"With all do respect, Marm. Rossvaskr be our home, an ye av nay say in what we do ear. Am sorry ta ave disturbed ye. We was jus about ta see this Pegasus off." Burnie cocks her one eye in disapproval before glancing over at Peatmoss, then to Axhaft laying groaning on the ground, cradling her broken leg.

"An why would ya do that?" she asks. turning her glare back to Scorch. "By the looks of it, he's more then a match for one oh yer best fighters. Ye gonna disrespect Ironbloom's last wishes?" He glances down at Axhaft, before snorting and answering.

"It does nay matter. Even if little Bloom was here, it would be up ta the circle ta decide that. An we donna want no fog-stalka ear." he punctuates with a stomp. Burnie leans away from him, screwing her face into a sour expression.

"So that's how it is." she spits in disgust. "After all these years Ironblood's been workin the Cloudforge, ye just gonna drop that road-apple?" Scorch flinches at that. "He's been loyally fixin yer armor, forgen you the best weapons, an the way ya thanks him, is ta shit on his race?!"

"N-naw! It ain't like that! Buckin. Es earned his place here! This little skeever, can't jus wing on in, on the back oh yer daughter's reputation, an take her place. The clan ain't gonna stand fer it!" At that, Burnie hangs her head. Her body seemingly withering in sorrow.

"Oh. I see." She sighs in a whisper. "I suppose you're right. Ironbloom always was just another outsider to you. Just like her ol mare."

"Burnie." Scorch starts in a weary tone.

"No no, I understand." she Whimpers as she turns away. "This has always been all my fault. I should never ave come here in the first place. I, I used to think The Mighty Helms were all about honor, and goodness. But now I see it's just a clubhouse fer gangers and layabouts. There's no room here for anypony who just wants to do some good in the world."

"Burnie, don't talk like that." Scorch begs.

"No. Ye've made yer point." she says in finality. Rubbing the tears from her eyes before turning to Peat. "Come along Peatmoss. I'll at least give ya a place ta stay in my home. We Equestrians aren't welcome around here." Peatmoss falls into step beside her comfortingly as she plods sadly away around the hall. The other Helms turn disapproving glares at Scorch as they walk away.

"Wait. Hold up." he calls, trotting after them in defeat. "I can't approve im joining till ee at least talks ta Kodiak Tinhorn first. Till ee does, I'll discuss it with the rest of the circle. That's the best I can say fer now." Burnie smiles a little as she nods back in thanks. "I think es downstairs in the den talking ta Broad Blade." Scorch says to Peat before turning and trotting back over to check on Axhaft.

"Go on downstairs Peatmoss." Burnie says. Turning to Peat. "His room is at the far end of the vault. You can't miss it."

"What do I tell him?"

"Don't worry about it. Just answer his questions honestly, and your good nature is sure to win him over. Just like it did for my daughter."

"Ok." he says with a thankful nod. "Are you going to be ok?"

"I'll be fine after I have a few more days to grieve. And remember, no matter how your day goes, you'll always be welcome at my home. Now run along. I'll see you later."

Re-entering Rossvaskr through the front doors, he finds that a green unicorn colt has joined the older mare in cleaning. And the room looks to almost be in decent shape. Looking too his right, he finds the stairs down. As he descends, he can't help but notice a large armor stand mounted to the wall in an alcove. On it though, is a partial set of armor. A neck guard, left forehoof and right hindhoof guard, and a croupier. It was a very large grey armor for a large pony. Across it's surface was a honeycomb pattern with decorative bees hear and there.

Passing beneath the floor, he comes to a long hallway built out of stone, running the length of the hall above. The style of stonework reminds him of Featherfall barrow. But instead of cold and empty, it was warm and inviting. lined with furniture, with a wide red carpet running down the middle. On the walls hang tapestries depicting what he guesses are historical events.

The first is one of a ship, presumably the one that serves as the house above, sailing on the ocean. Standing on it's deck are several ponies holding spears and wearing those iron helmets iconic of the Mighty Helms. Behind them in the distance is an erupting volcano, spewing fire and belching lava, with a doomed village beneath it. 

The next is a picture of what he thinks is Gallops Hill. But there's no wall around it. And instead of the grand keep, the top of the hill is crowned with a big, humble barn. On the road leading up the hill, is the Helms, carrying the ship on their back, as ponies all around them cheer and wave.

The next depicts the now walled Gallops Hill under siege. Rushing out of it's front gate is the Mighty Helms, bristling with spears. Lead by a huge brown stallion with golden, flaxen hair, and glorious beard. He rears up with a fearsome warcry on his lips, as he drives the attacking griffins before him. They flee in terror as the stallion stands over their apparently fallen king. The stallion oddly seems to be depicted with a splash of yellow liquid behind him. Framing his body.

The next tapestry he is surprised to see is the opposite of the previous one. It depicts Gallops Hill again. But this time, The besieging griffins are reaching out and tearing away at the city with their sharp clutching claws. The brave defenders lay dead about the hill as the heroic stallion from before watches from a distance. Weeping in sorrow as a new, evil looking griffin King, flies over the city with a glowing, golden eye.

Confused at the apparent sudden reversal of fortune, he moves to the next and sees the stallion again. But this time, he is covered in grey armor. Like that partial set displayed in the hall above. All around him are hords of demonic griffins. They hack and stab at the stallion, but his armor turns away every strike. Leaving him unharmed as he forges his way through them towards their evil king, who stands at the back of the army. Directing them as his golden eye blazes with light.

Heartened by the hopeful turn, Peat moves to the last one, and is confused by it's depiction. The heroic stallion sits, atop mountains of dead griffins, slumped in death. Arrows that  cover him in piercing wounds, leak yellow liquid, as the Evil king stands over him. With a bow in one claw, he cackls in glee. While behind him kneels three ugly, twisted hippogriffs. In their outstretched hooves and claws, they present the victorious king with more wicked arrows.

Peatmoss looks around for more, but he has reached the end of the hallway. All that's left is the narrow double doors, presumably leading to Kodiak's room. From beyond he can hear low, muffled voices. He sighs in disappointment at the end of the story.

'It must be a historic account.' he thinks to himself. 'The stories of Crown don't have happy endings.'

He knocks at the doors, and after a few seconds, an answering call beckons him to enter. Stepping in to the small study, he finds two earthpony stallions sitting at a small round table. The one, a younger, dark-red, with a black mane and tail. The other, an elderly, though still strong looking stallion, with a light-grey coat and white striped mane and beard.

"Well now," remarks the older stallion, looking Peatmoss over, as the younger, with baggy eyes, looks on boredly. Leaning against the table. propping up his head with a hoof. "a new face enters the hall. What is it you need."

"I was t-told," Peat pauses to clear his throat. Straightening up before restarting. "My name is Peatmoss. And I was told I could find Kodiak Tinhorn down here? I need his approval before I can join the Mighty Helms." The younger stallion snorts in amusement at Peat's weak introduction. But the elder stallion ignores it as he asks.

"Really? An what manner oh madness would compel a Pegasus ta crawl this far under earth an stone to seek my approval? Huh?"

"I, um." he pauses again. Glancing up at the stone ceiling.' It's probably been there for hundreds of years. Why would it fall now?' he thought to himself as he answers Kodiak. "Ironbloom invited me to come here. Said I would be welcome here."

"You? A sky-skeever? Welcome here?" the other pony scoffed.

"What's rong with that Blade?" asks Kodiak. "Ya know we have spare beds in the pup's den that ave been left cold fer a long time."

"You're not seriously thinking of giving him a chance Captain?" asks Blade. Flicking a bighoof in Peat's direction. "And here I thought you were daft when ya let that unicorn join. Whatever." he concluded. looking away to the wall in boredom. "Why do I even care." he mumbles to himself. "That weak scrap of meat will probably die within the first few seconds of the fight."

"Excuse me?!" retorts Peat. "I'll have you know, I've been in a few fights already. Killed some ponies, and griffins too! Just because you're an Earthpony, doesn't automatically make you the meanest, toughest, cock on the trot! Do you want to have a go at me? I've already trounced two of your gang already. So you better be careful of who you're shitting on!"

A profound silence falls over the room as the echoes of Peat's outburst fade away. Slowly, Blade turns his steely glare on Peatmoss as he straightens up in his chair. The creaking of the stallion's armor fills Peat's ears in the silence. Accompanied by a predatory rumble of a growl as he levels his ire on him. Peatmoss feels a trickle of fear run up his spine. The primal prey animal instinct, buried deep in his genes, bubbling up to compel him to flee in terror. But drawing on probably foalish resurves of courage, he roots his hooves to the ground.

"Watch, your, tone, meat. You're trapped here. Stone all around you. Nowhere to fly. I can have my teeth around your neck before you could even turn to bolt."

"Y-you can tr-try." Peatmoss stammers in what he hopes doesn't sound like a squeak. "But I-I've got te-eeth too." he finishes lamely. Blade just holds his gaze for a few seconds before getting slowly to his hooves.

"Oh. I am going to have fun chewing on you." he states. A wolfish grin crawling over his muzzle as he widens his stance.

But suddenly, before eather of them can make a move, Kodiak bursts out in jolly laughter. Completely shattering the tension in rolling, belting, guffaws that ring down the stone hall.

"By the Great Mead-Blooded's glorious Beard!" He shouts as his laughter subsides. "Ye must ave bronze balls the size oh seige stones ta challenge Broad Blade to a close quarters fight." he says as he brushes tears of joy from his eyes. Blade just rolls his eyes as he huffs and returns to his chair. "Come now." he says through a few lingering chuckles. "Take your clothes off so I can get a good look at what you're offering."

Not certain if he's serious, Peatmoss waits a few seconds, but no other command comes. So he unbuckles his saddle bags and sheds his robe. Rising from his chair, Kodiak walks to Peat's right side and picks up his hoof.

"Soft hooves." he mutters to himself as he inspects the underside. "No evidence of ever beeing shod. some wear though." He lets it drop back to the stone floor and moves on to his flank. Peat flinches as Kodiak grabs his right wing and pulls it out too it's full extent. Squeezing and prodding the muscles before allowing it to fold back up. Moving around behind him, he lifts Peat's tail and looks over his cutie mark. Giving his rump a poke. "Fan of sweets are ya?" Peatmoss just mumbles a noncommittal answer as Kodiak drops his tail and picks up his left hindleg. Feeling up his hock and haunch. "Not many miles on these. Typical for a Pegasus I suppose, plenty of muscle though." Letting his hoof down again, he walks back to Peat's front and hooks his jaw to look into his mouth. Then, he sits and takes Peat's head in his hooves and inspects his bruised eye, then the faint scar on his jaw. "Get smacked in the head often? Not a fan of helmets are ye?"

"I've been considering it." replies Peat sheepishly. "I haven't found one in my size eather."

"Ah. We'll have to address that then." Kodiak says as he peers deeply into Peat's eyes. He stares back. The elder pony's creased face a mask of tired, world-weary time. But with a glimmer of something in his gaze.

"You are Equestrian. Am I right?" he asks suddenly. Peatmoss nods gently. "Yes. I see a bit of the Sun-goddess's light still in your eyes." Peatmoss lowers his eyes in shame. "There's no shame in what you are or where you were born." He reassures, letting go of his head.

"After what I've done here in Crown." Peat starts guiltily. "I don't expect to be welcome back in my Homeland."

"I see. The souls of the slain weigh heavily on you. Don't be fooled. You are not alone with this burden." he comforts as he glances back at Blade. Who upon noticing Kodiak's gaze, turns his eyes to the wall again. "The weight of the living can be enough to crush a pony's spirit." he says as he raises Peat's head with a hoof to look him in the eye again. "You would be wise to not try and bear the weight of the dead as well. I see much sorrow and hardship on your path ahead Peatmoss. Honor and respect for ones friends and enemies are the core of what the Mighty Helms stand for. Follow these tenets too the letter, and those who have gone before you will welcome you into Dreamland Castle with open hooves.

"Tell me about yourself Peatmoss." he says as he returns to his chair. "What did you hope to do when you left your home to come here?" Peat takes a deep breath and sighs before beginning.

"I, was tired of my day-to-day life back in Equestria. Like my life wasn't going anywhere. I believed that there was something I was missing. I was just restless I suppose. I decided I should come here and see the land my, ancestors, built. To find the roots of what I was. Not even in my wildest dreams did I expect to see or do what I have."

"I've seen corruption of law and justice. I've heard rumors of world-threatening monsters. Seen evil of ponies and griffins alike. Now? I Just want to help anyone I can.

"And help you shall. I'm sure we can find a few jobs you can handle around Gallops Hold. In the meantime, Broad Blade here will give you a test of strength and endurance." Kodiak says turning to the red stallion. "Try not to make him any more than one piece." Broad Blade just sighs and rolls his eyes as he rises from his chair.

"Thank you Captain Kodiak sir. I'll do my best." Peatmoss bows and gathers up his saddle bag and robe to follow Blade. Kodiak just chuckles and waves him off.

Outside, in the sandy grass, he and Blade squared off. He began with showing Peat a few defensive moves with wooden swords. But after that, they started sparring for real. And all those simple defensive moves got alot harder. All he had to do was hit Blade's buckler he held to his chest. But instead, whenever Peat made a go at it, he got a smack to the legs, shoulders, or head. After a few dozen times, he learned to keep moving. Dancing on his hooves. Move in, jump back. Keep aware of his surroundings. 

Blade had demonstrated a few moves like Axhaft, but was much quicker in execution. Finally, after what felt like hours, he finally landed a hit and escaped before taking one in return. Peatmoss was so excited about his achievement he let his guard down and Blade made him pay for it. Knocking him on the head. Dazed, he sat on the ground.

"Had enough?" asks Blade as he stood over him.

"Yeah. I think so." he groaned. Rubbing at his crop of lumps on his head. "Can I have a helmet now?" Blade nickered as he went and hung up his sword. 

"Go on up to the Cloudforge. Ironblood will take your measurements and see you get something more protective then that shabby robe. It's just up those stairs over there."

Going up the stairs Blade had pointed out. Peatmoss sees the Jarl's Keep looming above, to his left. But as he asends, he finds a dence mist close around him. Spreading his wings as he reaches the top of the stairs, he senses another Pegasus's magic at work in the cloud. Squinting his eyes, he walks slowly forward. Looking for anything, or anypony.

"Hello? Anypony up here?"

"Don't use your wings." comes a deep voiced command from the fog. He quickly folds his wings in fright.

"Uh, I was told to come up here for some armor."

"Come." commands the voice.

Lowering his gaze to the stonework of the ground, he makes his way forward till suddenly finds a set of big, light blue hooves in front of him. Looking up, he sees the pony they belong to. An elderly, light blue and white Pegasus stallion, with a white and darker blue striped mane. He wore an off-white apron. And as far as he could see, nothing else. The stallion's wings, spread behind him, were a ragged mess. Most of the feathers were missing, and he'd bet his saddle, he couldn't fly to save his life.

"Oh! Hello." Peat says in surprise. "You're a Pegasus too huh? My name is Peatmoss." he says with a smile as he holds out a hoof in greeting. The old pony just looks down at his hoof with tired eyes for a few seconds, before raising his own and bumping it to Peat's. "So. You must be Ironblood?" he asks after a few seconds of silence. The pegasus nods slowly. After a few more seconds of not elaborating, Peat coughs and forges on. "So, I'm a new member, and I need some armor. Do you... have anything in, uh... my size?" The big pony cocks his head and asks in a deep voice.

"You're, Ironbloom's friend?"

"Uh, yeah." Peat stammers. surprised at the sudden question. "Well, that is to say," He glances away as he awkwardly clarifies. "I met her barely an hour, before she... passed. But I'd like to think we, could have, been..." he trails off when he turns his head back to see the pony is gone. Turning around in confusion, he looks this way and that but all he sees is the swirling mist of clouds. After a few minutes of looking around, he realizes he doesn't know what direction he came, and has completely lost his sense of direction.

Then something drapes across his back and he snaps his head around to see the big pony had reappeared. Spreading a large piece of canvas fabric over his back. Ignoring his reaction, Ironblood goes about marking out Peatmoss's dimensions using a chunk of charcoal to trace out the shape of Peat's wings, the root of his tail, his hips and forelegs, and base of his neck. He scratches out a few more things on the fabric before pulling it off and walking away back into the fog. His coat and tail fading away in the mist. Patiently, he waits till Ironblood returns with a pile of fabric and leather on his back.

"It will take several days to complete a set." Ironblood says bluntly, dumping the stuff at Peat's hooves. "You can wear this till then." Picking up the biggest piece, Peatmoss sees it's similar to Ironbloom's coat in shape, but with no decorations or fur linings. Just a simple quilted pattern like the Stormwings, or town guard wore. Tossing it over his back, his wings easily push through precut holes, but he's confused by a loose chain-and-bar string attached to the front of each hole.

"What are these?"

"Wing Jacks." the smith replies bluntly. "Guards the fore of your wings." Taking hold of Peat's wing, he pulls it open and lines up the string of metal with it to buckle them on with small leather straps. Once Peat understands how they work, he lets him do the other while he fastens up the front of the coat. It's a size or so bigger than Ironbloom's, but is good enough for the moment. He buckles on the leg guards. Nothing remarkable about them. Simple strips of metal, with a leather backing. And of course, a helmet.

It's made of a steel brow and cheek guards, and a strip of steel running across the top of his head, with a split in it for his mane to stick through. The rest is leather with holes for his ears. His entire body feels twice as heavy. The armor constricting his motions. especially the metal wing guards, that rattle with every movement. Ironblood steps back and watches as Peat tests it out.

"I have a favor to ask." Ironblood states bluntly after a few minutes.

"Uh, sure." he answers, turning to face the stallion. Surprised at the sudden statement

"I've finished the repairs on Axhaft's helm." pulling out and holding up the iconic Mighty Helm head gear. "Could you take it to her for me. My wife is in mourning, and I must go to her."

"Sure thing."

"That's a good lad." he says as he puts the helmet into Peat's outstretched hooves and pats him on the head with his big, heavy hoof. With that, he abruptly trots off. Leaving Peat alone in the fog. Just as he begins to wonder which way to go, the mist begins to thin.

As it dissipates, it reveals a giant stone Pegasus statue, crudely chiseled out of the stone that forms the Keep's foundation. It depicts a Pegasus pony in mid-leap over a shallow stone pit, smoldering with ash and coal. In front of it sits a lone anvil and rack of tools and nothing else. Packing up his discarded robe, he turns to go. Observing as he does, at the farside towards Rossvaskr, is a scattered pile of different metals and a haphazard stack of crates.

Back inside the hall. Peatmoss finds Axhaft and Macehead sitting at a table with their backs to him. Axhaft, half laying on the table, staring at a mug. Off at the farside of the hall is the green unicorn colt, idly washing dishes. Approaching the two, he opens his mouth to announce his presence, but Axhaft snaps at him before he can get a word out.

"What're ya doing ear, Mead blood? Come ta gloat? Rub yer wet tail in me face? Ya not Ironbloom, ya not gonna replace er. An yer not The Mead-Blooded. Ye'll never be The Mead-Blooded! So git! Afor I make ye me pillow stuffin." Macehead affirmed her words with his own glare at him. Peatmoss scrunched his muzzle in angry frustration. But before speaking his piece, he took a deep breath, and let it out.

"Look, guys. I was completely lost when I met your friend. She made the offer, nothing more."

"It wasn't her place ta say!" Snapped back Axhaft. Interrupting him and spinning around to add her angry glare. "No skeevas allowed in the clan. When I sent ye ta Burnished Bronze, I was hoping she'd stomp ye ta smithers. But ya managed ta weasel yer way out-a that like the Skeever ye are." Peat opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off as she continues. "An now yer prancin all ore town tellin everypony ye jus whooped our tails an now yer king oh the hill."

"I did Not!" he yelled. Snatching her helmet off his back and throwing it into her chest. Knocking her back, off balance against the table. "I'm just looking for a place to stay. And now I don't want to have anything to do with you and your stupid little club. Ever since I met you two, you've given me nothing but grief. For the brief few moments I knew Ironbloom, I had nothing but respect for her. And now I can't believe she was ever even associated with the likes oh you! You bring nothing but shame to her name." 

"In fact," he went on, beginning to pace. "If she were here, she'd tell ya, 'Yall are a bunch oh weepy-eyed, foalish idgits, who doneigh ave no honor or respect fer peaceable folk. Ye live like a pack oh wild dogs who shit in yer bed an eat yer own vomit! An the Peabrain should go buck im-self.'" At those last words, Axhaft and Macehead's jaws drop, and they both turn and stare at the green unicorn colt. The pony's eyes go wide as the mug he was washing clatters too the floor.

"She, she said that?!" he stammers as he stares back at Peat.

"Uh, yeah. She... actually did." he replied as he realized, he had gotten so caught up in channeling Ironbloom's mannerisms, he actually accidentally quoted her.

"Aw! Come on!" the colt cried in despair as he threw his forehooves in the air. "It was one mistake. And I paid the ultimate price for it. Haven't I suffered enough?!" With that, he stomped off over and down the stairs. Grumbling and griping as he went. Peat just watches him go. Having absolutely no context for the quote.

"Huh. That does sound like something she'd say." muttered Macehead. Axhaft just frowns and looks down at her helmet in her hooves. Feeling the mood in the room falling again, Peatmoss takes a deep breath and sighs.

"Look, I can see you guys don't want me around. So just so we don't hate each-other for the rest of our lives, if you want the money from the Buzzy's Brew job, take it." Pulling out two bags of gold from his saddle bag, he tosses it to the floor at their hooves.

"It's not about the money." mutters Axhaft bitterly as she ignores it and turns back to the table. Setting her helmet down and taking a swig from her mug. 

"Then what!" he snaps, getting frustrated again. "How about I cut my wings off and become an Earthpony. Will that make you happy?! All my life I've never said or did a single thing to disparage anypony about who or what they are. But coming to Crown, nearly everypony I've met takes one look at the feathers on my back, and treats me like the scum of the sky. Within the first day after I've arrived, I've been beaten, nearly beheaded, stabbed, shot, nearly beheaded again, and if it hadn't been for Ironbloom and Garard, I'd ave said buck Crown! Buck the griffins! And Buck your stupid Windigo problem. All you guys deserve to freeze to death. Then maybe the rest of the world will be better off for it!"

"Watch your tone, Skyskeever." says Axhaft with a deep un-Equine growl rumbling from her barrel.

"Oh! You want to go for round two bitch?!" Peat shouts back, yanking off his saddlebags. Stomping his hooves and spreading his wings menacingly. "This time though, I'm not holding back!"

"Good ta hear." says Axhaft casually, as she turns in her chair. A manic grin spreading over her face. "Then neither, will, I." But before she can get to her hooves, Macehead picks up a mug and slams it down on her unprotected head. Knocking her to the floor.

"Hey! What's the big idea?!" shouts peat in indignation. But Macehead snatches up a pitcher and throws it at him. It smashes on the brow of Peat's helmet, dousing him in honey wine.

"You need to cool off!" he shouts. getting up and moving to stand between them. "The both of ye. Or do ah need ta call Kodiak an Blade up here ta tie ye both up, an dump ye in the moat?"

"Ow, Macey." whines Axhaft as she rubs at her throbbing head.

"Shut it! Ye know the rules. Not in here!" He looks over at Peat. Daring him to object further, but Peatmoss just shakes himself off and drops his stance. After a few seconds, he takes a breath and addresses Peat. "Look Meadblood, we're jus still upset at Ironbloom's death. We all have our own way oh dealin with it. Axhaft's is fightin. I'm sure she don't mean nothin by it." She sits up and grumbles under her breath. "Kodiak likes ya. Broad Blade don't mind ye joinin. Scorch, ee's draggin his hooves about makin a decision. And, well... ye knows what Axhaft an I feels. Till that changes, ya can't stay here. It's probably best ye find someplace else ta be."

"Yeah fine." Peat mumbles. picking up his saddle bag and walking out into the afternoon sun.

* Level up! *

Stamina increase + 10.
Perk increased (Light weapons).
(Swords Pony 2/3). Attacks with swords have a 40% chance of doing critical damage.

Perk added
(Jarl's badge) With this item is equipped, you are seen as an accepted member of the Hold, and unlocks new dialogue options with non-quest characters.