//------------------------------//
// 7 - Wrong Place... 
// Story: EaW: A Republican Chick's War Chronicles 
// by CheshireTwilight 
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Chaos in Brodfeld: Violent Crackdown after Royal Assassination Attempt Blamed on Partisans

The Kingdom of Brodfeld had seen much upheaval over the past few years. Widespread famine caused by royal mismanagement has caused thousands of refugees to pour out into neighboring countries.

Earlier this month, an attempted assassination of Brodfeld King Kloseu de Kissau while spectating a Military Parade in Kivessin resulted in the deaths of both the assassin and the King’s wife. The assassin was never positively identified, but the King had since blamed the radical partisan group: The Prywhenian Liberation Army, a popular communist uprising brought on by the famine. The King vowed to enact harsh reparations and crackdowns on the group.

This week, reports have confirmed the region is experiencing a state of widespread violence with massacres of citizens by Royal Decree occurring to those suspected of being partisans. The King’s son, Prince Tomado, has sworn to mediate the dispute but it seems too little too late to stop widespread bloodshed. Thousands once more flee the country or have taken arms for either side. Until more information comes in, it is difficult to say if the current violence can be considered the start of a Civil War, or if it is a flareup that will deescalate in the coming weeks.

President Kemerskai has spoken out condemning the violence but has not taken a side. Considering the socialist nature of the uprising, the nation’s current issues, and the distance, the government will likely not consider making any actions.

Only time will tell if a third, less revenge-fueled option will make itself known, or if the nation is destined to descend further into anarchy. 

- Front-page article of the Griffonian Republic National Newspaper, Der Republifaner (4th Week of May 1003 Edition)





May 24th, 1003 – Rosewing’s Headquarters, Western Whitetail Mountains, Griffonian Republic – Chiron POV

Chiron Stormfeather looked at his surroundings with disdain. The brown-haired, brown-eyed General of the Republic did not hide his feelings. The damp cave he found himself in was unpleasantly cool, with dripping stalactite and stalagmite formations giving off frequent irritating noises with every drop of their limestone-enriched water.

The only thing he could think of was how much better things would be if he was doing his actual assignment. He was supposed to be overseeing the troop formations of the 12th Infantry Division stationed in the mountains north of Windford, known to the locals as the Whitetail Mountains.

Instead, this secretive meeting with the Warlord Rosewing had been planned by his true superior, Reinhard Suntail, Chief of Staff of the Republican High Command. Suntail and Rosewing had been gathering forces and equipment for a little less than a year now, preparing for an eventual coup of the government. Ever since the creation of the Citizens’ Militia, more and more griffons in the military were coming around to the truth of their cause: that Kemerskai’s middling policy of catering to the Harmonists, the Socialists, the Pacifists and the Industrialists had weakened the country, but that the power the President-Marshal wielded could turn things around in the right claws. The unmitigated success of the Citizens’ Militia was proof of that.

Across from Stormfeather, however, was the exact opposite of that power. Claus Rosewing – supposed warlord of the north – was stuffing his face with the veritable feast before them. The one-eyed red griffon ate like a starving beast. While Stormfeather imagined that the spread of chicken and trimmings was a rare sight – being so isolated as they were from civilization – it was nevertheless insulting to the severity of the meeting’s purpose.

Stormfeather tried to get things back on track.

“Warlord Rosewing, are your preparation’s finalized?”

Rosewing did not hear him and continued eating unabated. Frustrated, Stormfeather tried again.

“Rosewing!”

Looking up, Rosewing swallowed a beakful of chicken. He waved a chicken leg at Stormfeather dismissively.

“Chiron, Chiron please… call me Claus! Not even my father went by his last name. Honestly, you could lighten up a little. I used to be like you once, when I helped seize the Palace in Griffenheim. Now? Well, the criminals and ex-soldiers under my command don’t take well to a leader who acts like a task-master. Please, have some of the food. You won’t find something this good anywhere-”

Stormfeather slammed the table, knocking several of the dishes around and causing a little of the food to fall off.

“I do not appreciate your lackadaisical attitude regarding the future of the nation! Answer the damn question!”

Stormfeather gritted his beak together.

‘There’s so much work to be done. The Griffonian National Revolutionary Front can’t afford to wait any longer. We refuse to fall into the trap President Kemerskai or this fool Rosewing has in thinking the nation has endless time to waste!’

That was the takeaway of his ultra-nationalist cause. The GNRF had existed since the defeats at the claws of the monarchists in 979, but it had been aimless and academic, fraught with debate in quiet rooms about the direction the Republic needed to follow to preserve itself in a world where even a fraction of the Empire could destroy it under the weight of their slave-armies of peasant soldiers. One of these ideas had always been theoretical, but strongly favored by most: the re-creation of a permanent Citizens’ Militia like those used before the first Presidential Election in 978, when the Republic had achieved everything from the storming of the Palace of Griffenheim, to the destruction of its armies.

With the effectiveness of the militia proven, Chief of Staff Suntail had taken the reigns of the GNRF's internal politics, bringing a number of ideas to the table as the future President-Marshal. Re-education of the public on the glorification of the Republic’s founding to ensure the ideals that created it never died. The execution of traitors, dissidents, weakness and greed from all levels of society. The movement of all private property to the control of the state to safeguard its institutions. The membership had been skeptical of radical changes before, but now there was no idea was too radical if it meant avoiding the current situation: where something as pathetic as an attack from the traitors of Skynavia or bandits would be enough to collapse everything the Republican cause had built until now.

‘It’s frustrating that – despite our newfound vision – we have to rely on these lazy traitors. In the new national order, Rosewing and his gang will be… sorted out.’

Ignorant of Stormfeather’s thoughts, Warlord Rosewing sighed.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. What do you even have to worry about? You’re not the one that’s taking on all the risk here. Just sit tight in your nice comfy offices and wait for my army to make the first strike. Then you take the President hostage and bring about your new regime. Me? I have to move 20,000 troops into position without being spotted by patrols hounding the countryside. If the Republican Army discovers just a portion of my forces, I’ll find myself in an ambush and suddenly I’m at a huge disadvantage in the coming Civil War.”

That was the plan on paper: Rosewing attacks and the GNRF takes control of the government. Then, when the dust settles, the two “duke it out” for control of the nation. The reality was different. The GNRF had almost half of the C-NRP – most of Sunglider’s faction – in their pocket already, but they would not move unless the GNRF had a leader in the President's chair. Of course, such information was hidden from Rosewing; he was hardly trustworthy. It was also why Stormfeather wore an enchanted medallion to mask his voice and hid his face during the trip to the warlord’s hideout. With all these preparations, the GNRF held all the cards; they had leverage on Rosewing, but with his remote location, the warlord could do nothing to investigate or counter the power that the ultra-nationalist loyalists had over him.

Stormfeather impatiently tapped on the table.

“That does not concern us, Rosewing. Remember, we have proof of your attacks on Republican soldiers. You brought this on yourself. Our evidence reaching the President means your supplies and backing disappears; you’d be finished. Do your job and reap the rewards… or don’t and reap the consequences. That’s what my leader has entrusted me to remind you of. We will not accept failure.”





June 8th, 1003 – Left-NRP Headquarters, Cloudsbury, Griffonian Republic – Ernst POV

Ernst Thälgriff – head of propaganda for the socialist L-NRP – watched as Armaments Minister Erich Kreiger paced around Rikard Aster’s small office. Ernst and Rikard with smug detachment as they watched the overweight griffon fume and rage.

“The trick you damn socialists pulled may have let you win this time, but you will fail to capitalize on whatever small gains you’ve had, I’m sure of it!”

It had been inevitable with the massive improvements brought on by the precise calibration of their machines. With the Gauge Blocks Tanya had told Ernst about, he had been able to not only construct more of the 11mm ammunition, but also improvements to the machines that built them. With a turret lathe now complete, the factory could mass-produce the finicky “cups” that held the percussion caps of the round; something that Kreiger’s workforce could only do manually. While Ernst’s workers had beaten the Industrialist at his own game two months ago, they had since gone and doubled that production.

It had reached a point now that the nation had – for the first time since the outdated weapons had been created – made a surplus. No longer were citizens without ammunition forced to hand-roll dangerous paper variants of the round because the alternative was fighting a battle with an empty rifle.

Rikard smirked.

“Tricks or not, we won. The President has authorized our workers’ co-ops to now accept government contracts. Your monopoly has been busted.”

Kreiger scoffed.

“There was no monopoly. While I can hardly call the current situation in this country a “Free Market”, there are also no artificial barriers to entry. Any business that can prove its profitability was always eligible. It was just that your ineffective economic tactics never worked… until now. But your trick won’t work in the long run. You’ll go bankrupt long before you can seriously compete with me!”

Their trick had been exposed… or so Kreiger thought. Ernst smirked.

‘Thankfully, the President only allowed impartial auditors from the C-NRP to judge. The competition made it clear that so long as the product was produced by the factory itself with no outside influence, it would be our victory. So we won. They identified the cause of our success over Kreiger as the result of “machines in the factory were more effective”. We didn’t have any of the manufacturing done outside the country, so there was nothing Kreiger could do. Of course, he believes that we “cheated” by shipping the factory’s machines to Skyfall or Feathisia and had them refurbished at great personal expense… but who am I to correct his misunderstanding?’

Ernst shrugged.

“Believe what you want. This time next year, you won’t find things working out as nicely as it had until now.”

Something about his statement made Kreiger smile. He stopped his pacing and shifted his collar.

“You’re right. Perhaps I should not be too upset. Enjoy your victory, I can attest it will be one of your last.”

With that ominous line, the Armaments Minister left. Rikard was unamused.

“I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that he’s a sore loser. Then again… are you certain it's not an act; that he hasn’t found the true cause for us winning?”

Ernst shook his head.

“The Gauge Blocks are kept under lock-and-key at all times and I only allow a select few of my most loyal workers to even know that they're used to calibrate the measurement tools. The other workers can only assume our tools are just "better". I have no doubt that it will leak out eventually, but I hope that by then, we’ll have made enough turret lathes and other automated equipment to leap ahead of the R-NRP’s slave-labor advantage.”

Rikard nodded gravely.

“That’s key. Wherever socialism failed, it was because the Capitalists gained an early advantage by leveraging their brutal workplace standards. Once they take control of the market, it's too late. That's why we must stop them now, while they're distracted with the problems in the north. If we can show the people that we can compete – and even succeed – against the Capital Class without the need for exploiting labor, they'll turn to us in droves.”

Ernst frowned.

“So you say… but we can’t be sure Kreiger’s confidence is only his ignorance of our calibration method. He seemed a little too confident he could win. It seems like he still has a few aces-up-his-sleeves he can bring against us.”

Rikard gave him a determined glare.

“Then we’ll meet them all head-on. We’re making solid progress in the polls and our party’s on the rise. Let the industrialist play his “games”. We will win where it counts: in the hearts and minds of the proletariat.”

Ernst nodded distractedly, but could not help but focus on a clipboard on Rikard’s desk. It listed the Co-ops and workplaces that still had yet to have their tools calibrated by the Gauge Blocks. He was reminded that their only advantage was the gifts Tanya had bestowed on them.

“Of course… and yet I can’t help but notice we’ve placed a lot of our hopes on the withers of a single chick… speaking of which, where is she?”

Rikard chuckled.

“Listen to you. She’s spent the past few months with you in the factory, and yet the minute she’s out of sight you’re like a mother hen. Tanya’s taking the day off. With Gisella Griffricht heading back to Brodfeld to work with her compatriots in the Prywhenian Liberation Army and these new standards you’ve given to the co-ops, everygriff's been working day-and-night. The last thing I wanted was her getting in her mind she needed to work any harder.”

Ernst stared at Rikard in disbelief.

“Tanya doesn’t take days off! If I didn’t force her to sit and read during her stay at the factory, she would've waltzed onto some other job site or came back here to do work! Where did she say she was going?”

Rikard rolled his eyes.

“Apparently she wanted to do a little "investigating" on her own. She’s probably just at the library. You’re blowing this all out-of-proportion. Tanya's allowed to spend her free time-” 

Ernst did not wait to hear more as he stormed off in search of Tanya.

‘Rikard’s a damned fool. If Kreiger or our enemies get even a hint of how important she is, her life would be in danger!’

Racing away from headquarters, he looked all around but did not see hide or hair of the griffon. After a few minutes, he realized that he would not find her by fluke and settled himself. He would need to ask around at her apartment and her usual hangouts.

‘I hope Rikard's right and I’m just blowing this out-of-proportion. After all, what danger could she possibly make for herself in just a day?’





June 8th, 1003 – Northern Clawthorn Street, Cloudsbury, Griffonian Republic – Red POV

The namesake feathers of the griffon known as “Red” had dulled slightly over the last few years. While she was still barely an adult at 24, it was somewhat common for griffons to lose a little of the “vibrancy” of their plumage in their early adult years. 

Red liked to think the change happened from stress.

She was quite the busy griffon: she managed several private gambling dens in the slums and harbor district and also hired plenty of “muscle” to keep everygriff in line. She thought herself to be a “stabilizing” presence for the other would-be gangs in Cloudbury. Her zero-tolerance policy on violence – which would bring the authorities down on their heads by thinking they were “bandits” – forced the more headstrong criminals to flee to the warlords and strongholds in the north that had an easier time committing crime.

It was not always this way.

Red’s former boss had been a real psychopath. He had dealt in hard drugs from the Sunstriker Clan poppy fields and paid for those drugs with people trafficked from the slums. That had netted him a sizable fortune, but had caused the griffon to be paranoid of his own shadow and spend most of his time in private drug-fueled benders. Thanks to that distraction, Red had slowly managed to isolate him from his contacts and network before finally offing him for good. Thanks to her restructuring, she had the loyalty of most of the slum and quickly turned things around in the year since she had taken over.

One such loyal underling opened the door to her cramped office in the back of one of her casinos and interrupted her work accounting for the sizable flows of Republican scrip, Skyfallian Idols and Imperial Marks that passed through her establishment.

The henchgriff coughed into a claw.

“Boss, we have a ‘Tanya’ here to see you. She’s not on the list, want me to kick her out?”

Red raised an eyebrow at the familiar name.

“Tanya? A little blonde chick, right?”

Her henchgriff nodded.

“That’s right. You know her?”

She did not clarify, but gestured for the chick to be let in. Her henchgriff did so with a shrug.

Seeing the familiar mop of blonde hair, Red could not help but grin. The little chick had been utterly unremarkable when they first met. Red had been the accountant underneath the former boss and the chick was one of many “slum rats” that worked for them: a disposable minion that did any number of errands. Whether it was transporting boxes of drugs, kill orders, or other illegal goods beneath the watch of the army, there was no low they would not let the “rats” stoop to. Tanya showed a remarkable resilience, however, not once getting caught in the year she had worked as one. Tanya was very good at playing the “naive innocent chick” but Red knew otherwise.

“Tanya! What a pleasant surprise! I’ve heard you’ve been moving up in the world. Nogriff’s little messenger bird anymore. So, what has an upstanding chick like yourself coming to meet with us criminals?”

Tanya scowled.

“I’ve told you before: you’re not criminals. I wouldn’t have worked with you if you were. There might be a “paper-tiger law” making gambling illegal, but I’ve seen your books before. You pay your taxes and I’ve not heard of anygriff being scammed. I’ve even seen soldiers look the other way from your so-called “illegal” businesses. No, such “prohibition” measures never work in the long run and your success is proof of that. Honestly, you’re the only proper businessgriff in the slums!”

Red laughed. This was part of why she got along so well with the chick. Tanya always spoke to the “best version” of somegriff. Red knew that Tanya had seen the underbelly of the slums; had seen the extortion and the crime that went on, yet she did not seem to care about the casinos and the other “soft” crime. So long as taxes were paid and nogriff was being conned, things were alright in Tanya’s mind.

The comment on seeing their account books, however, had Red frowning.

‘I should’ve taken her in when I had the chance. Just a glance at the boss’ books and she immediately knew they were cooked. When I asked how I could “uncook” them, she taught me a foolproof and comprehensive method: converting the daybooks into double-entry ledgers, creating a chart of accounts, and then using all that to develop an “audit trail”. In just a few weeks, I was able to reverse-engineer the former boss’ entire network of contacts. It’s a damn shame… by the time I took over the accounts myself and offed the boss, Tanya had already started her career with the socialist party.’

Red did not let that get to her. Tanya was once again in front of her and so there was always another opportunity.

“I’ve done pretty well for myself. You were right about the boss’ books. I'd taken the liberty of handling the situation and the boss isn’t a problem anymore. Things have gotten a lot better around her since then.”

Tanya smiled.

“Then I suppose congratulations are in order. I always thought you were wasted as an accountant; you had a knack for business… I suppose you would be the one I want to talk to then. I have a business proposal.”

Red smirked.

‘Doing charity-work, mediating worker disputes and rallying the populous into a patriotic fervor. I’d thought the pragmatic little chick who would do any work to stay alive in this wretched place had moved on… but I suppose it’s easier said than done. You can take a chick out of a slum, but you can’t take the slum out of the chick.’

“Oh? But what about your socialist friends? Is there something nefarious you want done on the down-low?”

Tanya huffed.

“They’re hardly “friends”; they know nothing about the real me. I’ve tried to shift their policies in a more productive direction and subvert them where I could, but it’s too much. I need to make my way out of their shadow or I’ll be stuck as nothing more than an underpaid bureaucrat forever.”

Red had a good idea about what she meant.

‘I can’t imagine that they would be very happy knowing she was still involved with us “criminals”. I suppose she really hasn’t changed. Instead of surviving in this anarchy by doing dangerous work as a slum rat, she’s moved on to surviving by conning the political elite into believing she is anything but a self-interested "Artful Dodger".’

“Well, what are you thinking? Starting up your own business? Need a few capable griffons that won’t question your orders for a steady paycheck?”

Tanya nodded.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page. I’ve saved up some money over the last few months and I’ve done my research. I’m planning on starting a “Co-Op”. I just need griffons who can read and write.”

Red snatched the opportunity to gain closer ties to the genius chick’s meteoric rise.

“Judging your tone and lack of socialist support, this won’t be any ordinary co-op I imagine? Ah, no don’t answer, I’m a soul of discretion and this certainly sounds like an interesting idea regardless of the details. Let me know if you’re looking for investors, I can’t imagine anything you’re involved with is a bad investment.”

Tanya grinned.

“I’ll be glad to discuss the specifics once things get off the ground. If there’s anything I can help with, let me know. Even under your former boss, the work was always safe and fair.”

Red remembered things differently, but she supposed that a slum rat would think of things like “safety” with a biased perspective. Still, who was she to refuse hiring her unique perspective?

“There is one thing I’d like your help with. Consider it a favor for old time’s sake.”

Tanya raised an eyebrow.

“A favor? And what would I get in return?”

Red smiled. So like an ex-rat to demand hard terms.

“Cash of course – hard Imperial Marks, not that Republican “scrip” – and much more than your usual slum-rat courier rate.”

Tanya looked up in thought for a moment.

“What did you have in mind?”

Red smirked. It would be good to work with the best rat in the business again.





June 8th, 1003 – Riverfront Warehouses, Cloudsbury, Griffonian Republic – Tanya POV

Tanya had a skip in her step as she walked down the dark alleys of the Riverfront warehouse district.

‘It’s nice to meet Red again. I’d almost forgotten about her after all the headaches with the socialists. Their business always had steady work with little risk: just deliver packages and letters around. Of course, the work was insulting to my first-rate Japanese education and adult intellect, but I was hardly in a place to complain. Really, the casinos they ran should be praised for giving gainful employment to the children and poor of the slums! It really is yet more evidence that when public institutions fail, the people and private enterprise are always there to get them back on their feet… or paws in this case.’

That Red was willing to do work with her again after over a year without contact was proof that she was a capable businessgriff. It often frustrated Tanya that her lack of dutifully keeping up with old acquaintances was seen as an insult when she was simply too busy for constant social interaction with dozens of people. That she was able to do a job for good pay outside of the socialist party was a definite benefit as well.

The job in question was simply to listen in on a meeting. Red had been in talks with a potential new client for a few weeks, but was not familiar with the government or military they had the backing of. In an age before the internet or widespread education of lawyers on government affairs, Tanya could empathize with wanting an “expert” like herself help navigate the negotiations of a government contract.

It was night and save for a few small lights illuminating the numbers of each warehouse, the surroundings were pitch black. Tanya never felt safer, however, as Red had brought along 4 strong-looking griffons to guard them.

‘I can only lament I don’t have the pull to get a few guards of my own. While the city is seldom dangerous – with the worst criminals joining the bandits rather than sticking around – it doesn't change the fact I am physically far weaker and vulnerable to any would-be pickpocket or criminal.’

It was why she had devised a map of the city in her mind: with routes and contacts she could use to get out of trouble. Often that trouble even came in the form of the soldiers themselves! The supposed "police" of the slums would demand the package she was carrying for work! It was truly lamentable that even the army was not immune to corruption if they would stoop so low as to try to steal from a chick hard on her luck.

Her train of thought was broken as Red asked her a question.

“How’s the disguise?”

Tanya huffed. She gestured to the so-called “disguise”. It was little more than a dirty vest and flat cap that hid her hair bundled up inside.

“This was just what I normally wore as a courier. I’ll admit that nogriff would probably recognize me – not that I’m exactly well known outside of a news article or two – so you won’t need to worry about my newfound celebrity affecting the meeting.”

That was something she had pushed for and Red agreed with. She did not want to mix up whatever government business Red was involved in with Tanya’s party work. She had learned from experience that the moment her “socialist political leanings” were known, business deals and job offers made themselves scarce very quickly.

Tanya looked up at Red with a questioning look.

“So, what has you suspicious of this potential client?”

Red shrugged.

“I’m suspicious of everygriff; it’s the nature of my job. Still, these griffons have me more concerned than usual. Despite having plenty of choice, they come to little old me in the slums to support their plan that… well, you’ll find out soon enough. You’re here to determine if whatever they’re saying is true.”

Tanya smiled, glad to finally have a proper capitalist as a boss for once.

‘A stark contrast to that other so-called “business owner” Ernst Thälgriff. While I could empathize with a former-capitalist who found themselves working for the socialists, he always came to me to solve his problems for him! Compared to Red who’s just taking my suggestions in mind, it’s night and day. Really, if Ernst didn’t want to run the factory, he should’ve given the job to somegriff else!”

It was the success of that factory that had Tanya looking to make her own business. If a failure like Ernst could do well in the current economy, there was no way she could fail. She only hoped that the small victory the socialists had that day lit a fire under the butts of the Industrialists to work harder. It was clear that they had become complacent with the lack of competition.

They arrived at the warehouse, a small building that sat on the Cloudbury River. It was little more than a holding area for goods coming in or out from the harbor, but it was something Red owned and so could be certain there would be no issues or people getting in the way of the business. Upon entering the warehouse, they were greeted by the sight of a pair of male Republican Army officers in uniform. They went quickly to shake Red’s claw and introduce themselves simply by their ranks: Colonel and Major.

The Colonel looked down at Tanya with confusion before turning to Red.

“And who’s this, Red? I’d assumed you would be considering our offer with the utmost seriousness.”

Red smiled, patting Tanya on the head. The chick was quick to swat away the older griffon’s touch with a scowl.

“Don’t worry about this little tyke. Tina here will just be listening in. She has something of an eidetic memory and considering you refused anything be written down, I wanted to make sure nothing spoken here would be missed.”

The Major turned to his Colonel.

“Well?”

The Colonel shrugged.

“It’s not important. Just make sure the chick’s not a distraction.”

With that out of the way, they all sat down on simple wooden chairs. Red gestured to Tanya and herself.

“While I’ve talked about it through intermediaries, in the interests of all of us here, would you mind repeating your offer to me?”

The Colonel nudged the Major who coughed into his claw.

“Well, we’re here on behalf of certain high-ranking members of the military who have issues with the current state of affairs in the Republic. In the near future, they plan to stage a coup. When this happens, we would like the support of those of you in the slums. You will be given a radio frequency and a set of orders to cause civil disobedience: block roads, break electrical poles, that sort of thing. You have guarantees that the local officials will be too distracted to make any problems for you and you will be paid in advance.”

Tanya was stunned.

‘I knew the military would be upset with how massive the bandit issue has become, but I didn’t think they would stoop to joining their ranks! Using violence to overthrow the democratically elected President- ah, I suppose there are no more national elections.’

It was frustrating now that Tanya thought it through. This was the reason why democracies were so important to the stability of the modern world: it provided a clear and fair outlet for dispute without violence. An election would clearly show how accepted the views of these military officers were. Sometimes a revolt could still happen, such as in Japan prior to the 2nd World War. Tanya knew the outcome of such actions and adamantly disagreed with the way those student-officer protests grew to control the country into an expansionist power that had to be stopped by the United States. Regardless of how they might fail, elections were still one more hurdle that could have stopped these officers from considering a coup as their only recourse.

The Major took out a briefcase. Opening it up, he revealed stacks of Skyfallian Idol bills. Even with a quick conversion in her head, Tanya realized it was more money than she had ever seen in one place. It was enough to outright buy the factory Erich had developed with her input.

The Colonel was quick to close the briefcase and tapped on its leather construction with a talon.

“I hope it doesn’t need to be said that taking this money we offer on good faith… but not performing the tasks would be looked at very poorly. The army is not an organization to be crossed.”

Red waved a claw dismissively.

“I understand. It’s an interesting proposal, but I’m concerned with the consequences. While you might say that the local MPs will be “distracted” that does not give me a lot of confidence. No offense, but your belief in victory is biased. What guarantees could you provide us if you fail your little “coup”?”

The Major stood up from his chair and pointed a talon at her accusingly.

“You-”

The Colonel cut his compatriot off with a pat on their arm.

“You’re right, of course. We’re a secretive cabal in the military coming to you out of self-interest. That being said, win or lose, things will be too complicated in Cloudbury to worry about small fry like yourself. It’s also why we don’t mind you knowing a hint of our plans in advance. Nogriff would believe you. You can take that as a warning: do the job and get out of the city. While we’re confident of our victory, like all great change, the citizens will be bearing a disproportionate amount of the burden.”

Red stood up.

“Thank you for your time… Give me a moment outside and I’ll give you my answer shortly.”

Tanya walked out of the room with Red who signaled to her four guards.

“Keep watch of the door. Make sure those two aren’t listening in.”

They nodded and stood by the door, two inside and two outside. With the door closed, Red turned to Tanya.

“So, you heard the deal. The pay is very generous. A shady deal for a shady businessgriff like myself. I know you’ve never been a fan of me calling myself a criminal, but that’s all people like that see when they look at me.”

Tanya took off her flat cap and frustratingly shook her mop of hair back into some semblance of order.

“Urgh, this damn hat. I don’t remember my old flat cap being this uncomfortable. I must’ve grown out my hair too long.”

Turning to Red, Tanya sneered.

“Anyway, those so-called “officers” are disgusting. They pretend that they are doing all this for the good of the country, but how could hiring people to damage public property be anything but stooping down to the same level as the bandits they’re supposed to be fighting? And the less said about their supposed coup the better. While elections are banned, there are still plenty of ways to resolve their disagreements without resorting to violence.”

Red shrugged her withers.

“You’re preaching to the choir, Tanya. That said, remember what we’re here for. Is there any truth to their cause or what they’re saying? Do you have any idea who they might be?”

Tanya shook her head.

“Nothing, which I suppose is a point in their favor. If they’re going to be criminal trash, at least they’re smart enough not being caught. They do appear genuine at least. I spent quite a bit of time with a “Major Ravenbeak” during my time being paraded around in the Citizens’ Militia and I can tell the Major is wearing the right uniform. I can also believe that the military would be this upset with the President. I hadn’t thought Kemerskai would let it spiral this far out-of-control, but the issues are deep. Major Ravenbeak mentioned that the army loses almost as much griffons to defection as they do to causalities. The fighting up north is a slow and brutal slog with no end in sight.”

Red nodded.

“So they’re legitimate, as I thought… then the real question is, can they really win their coup? Should I work with them? You saw it yourself. That’s a lot of money, and it would go twice as far in the slums. I could do a lot of good with it.”

Tanya scowled and pointed to Red aggressively.

“Or a lot of bad. Red, I remember when you were just an accountant with dreams of taking down your corrupt boss. Despite what those people think, you’re not a criminal.”

Red frowned.

“That was a long time ago, Tanya. Things changed-”

Tanya jabbed the “criminal” in the chest.

“Is this something your boss would have thought twice about? Is there perhaps another accountant looking at your position right now? You. Are. Not. A. Criminal, but you can be – would be – if you took this offer. I know the slums are hard – I had a few offers like that when I lived there – but I turned them all down. I’m not a criminal and I know you don’t want to be one either. Someday, this country will turn things around and when that happens, I want to do business with an honest businessgriff.”

Red gave her a thoughtful look before she shook her head with a chuckle.

“I thought all your time working with the government would've changed you, but perhaps I’m the one who’s changed. You’re right. I won’t let myself go down the same dark path as my former boss and I suppose that starts with turning down lucrative dirty deal with corrupt military officials, huh?”

Tanya smiled.

“And I don’t suppose you would mind if I leaked what I heard today either? I don’t want criminals like that taking control of the government. Things are bad enough as it is.”

Red shrugged.

“You can try. They were intentionally vague on the specifics, but maybe letting everygriff know that something serious is coming could help things. It’s clear that being in disguise was a good idea. I doubt they would’ve leaked half the information they did if they knew you were the ‘flag-waving socialist chick’.”

Red gestured towards the door.

“I’ll tell the officers in there the bad news, in the meantime, I’ll have one of my henchgriffs walk you home.”





*Click*

As Tanya and Red parted ways, an almost imperceptible click of a camera shutter recorded the event. In the depths of one of the many alleyways of the warehouse district, a griffon in a black trench-coat stuffed their camera in a pocket and quickly escaped into the night.