//------------------------------//
// Interlude 1 - Slow Day for Old Friends 
// Story: The Bar at the Edge of Nowhere 
// by Syric Philharmonica 
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When it came down to preference, Stalwart could say with confidence that he enjoyed both his busy days and his not-so busy days running The Sleeping Alicorn. The busy days were enjoyable due to the influx of new and old faces that passed through his door. And the slow days because it allowed him to work on his projects or fix something that had gone wrong a previous day.

"If you find yourself lost out this way again, come on in!" Stalwart shouted at the two Griffons who stumbled out the door, laughing uproariously at a third who had attempted to fly and promptly got a beak-full of dirt and grit. Shaking his head with a small chuckle of his own Stalwart turned his attention, and his magic, back to cleaning the griffons table now that they had left. While his magic went to work in the background of his mind, his immediate thoughts turned back to the lack of personalities in his establishment.

'Well, I guess a little trip down memory lane before the next customer wouldn't hurt..' He thought and wandered over to the Weapons mounted along the top of the back wall, above the booths. Each one placed in recessed alcoves with small spotlights drawing attention to the assortment. Most eyes that entered the building were naturally drawn to the large Moon emblazoned Great-Hammer, it's Walnut tree haft polished to a dull shine and embossed with an Ivory pommel and filigree. The steel head of the hammer itself, noticeably weathered and well-used, was also beautifully crafted. The plates of steel on the front and back faces polished and shining, the glittering Moons on either side were made of moonstone and cut into crescents.

The hammer was placed in a spot of importance elevated above the others alongside it's sister weapons. A sword and a Sun emblazoned shield. Both sword and shield had the same wear-and-tear as the hammer, but were composed of different materials. The sword had a white Spruce handle and brass cross-guard, leading up to a steel blade, chipped in places and scratched from it's many years of use. The heater shield's white leather coating was in rough shape, scratches and a few burns marring the expanse yet the proud painted sun in the center was untouched. The gold rim was similarly chipped, but still polished to a shine.

These three armaments told the extensive and prideful history of their own through their appearance, whether that history was good or bad was lost to the past of the one who wielded them in combat. Aside from that, the Weapons exuded an almost reverent aura from the care put into maintaining what had to be centuries old tools of war.

'A long and bloody trip today then, eh girls?.' Stalwart thought as his eyes settled on them. 'fine, I have nothing better to do.' But before he could, the chime above the door called out for attention, and he gave a little huff as he turned to continue working. 'Another time then.'





"Are you sure you can make it home tonight? you had quite a bit to drink for quite a while." Stalwart asked as he helped a Pegasus find his footing outside the bar.

"I'll... beeeeee fine" the Pegasus  slurred as he began to fly away. throwing a, "Goodbye~." Behind him.

"... Idiot." Stalwart sighed as he shook his head before entering his tavern, locking the door and turning off the window lights to attract customers. Once inside he began the closing procedure, cleaning up and making sure everything was back where it was meant to be. After that ritual was done for the night his gazed was dragged back over to the Weapons hanging above the booths, Specifically the elevated ones. With a sigh Stalwart used his magic to pour himself a drink and took a seat at the bar, eyes locked onto that which had captured his attention so thoroughly.

"What am I gonna do with you three?" Stalwart said to himself as he sipped at his drink, thoughts wandering back to the looks newcomers had when they first saw the Weapons, it was always quite varied, ranging from interest all the way to shock and fear. "Well," He mused in the dim lonely atmosphere of the tavern. "At least no-one who comes in will recognize you all. That kind of of attention is not only unwanted but just a hassle to deal with. Although..." Stalwart hummed to himself as his eyes wandered over to the cellar door behind the bar. "you girls ARE the least dangerous items in my possession."

Shaking his head yet again, Stalwart finished his drink and went to the cellar door, casting a spell to create a orb of soft white light. "Might as well check the vault, can never be sure someone didn't sneak down here earlier today." Reaching out with his magic again, Stalwart opened the door and descended down the staircase into the basement of his establishment, followed closely by his light source. once he reached the bottom he immediately used his magic to refresh the wards and check his security spells for tampering, humming contentedly when nothing was found to be amiss.

Making his way to the back wall past the many machines used for the making of his different spirits and liquors Stalwart found himself at a locked metal door. Producing the key from a hidden pocket at the top of the doorframe, he let himself into the previously locked room, sending the orb of light to the middle of ceiling and intensifying the light it gave off the see the room in it's entirety. Said room was filled to the brim with pedestals and locked chests, each one containing a different artefact Stalwart had deemed too dangerous and unsafe to stay free and not locked away where nobody would find it.

"hmm." Stalwart hummed as he proceeded between the contained items, casting a critical eye to see if any were moved or otherwise tampered with. "Can never be too careful" he mused as he stared impassively at a strapped down amulet with an eye at the center, thrashing and straining against it's binding and glaring with hate and vitriol back at him. After rolling his eyes to show how unimpressed He was with it's fit of rage he reinforced the soundproofing spell so he wouldn't have to hear it screaming at him.





After Stalwart was satisfied with his examination of charges in his glorified prison, He gave a sigh of relief and made his way out of The Vault. As Stalwart locked it back up he was already feeling all his years bearing down on his back as the call of sleep beckoned him. Making his way back out of his cellar, Stalwart began to extinguish all the lights in the building. Soon enough there was only a single candle left. As Stalwart looked down at it, the absurdity of his life floated to the forefront of his mind, and he gave a small chuckle at his own expense. 

"And they called me the Grand Knight of Equestria. Heh. What a joke."