To the untrained eye the hamlet of Griffonstone would seem to be nothing more than a failing town in the depths of squalor. Between the boarded up businesses and Griffons on the street corners all but begging for a few spare bits, it would be hard to fathom anything good ever came of the place. Rosie Air, however, could see the glint of gold behind filth. The fine craftsmanship of the cobblestone street under her hooves left to crack and crumble. She could see pain in the eyes of beggars as she passed, stopping only to drop a few spare bits into their cups. ‘Their spirits are broken. What could do this to a race of predators?’ She shook her head and continued on her path.
Soon enough, the messenger mare found herself looking up at one of the few buildings in any decent state of repair. True, the residence of Uberburgomeister Andor von Griffonstone still showed fading paint and other signs of wear. Rosie could see that the building itself was kept scrupulously clean and swept. She had little time to ponder the dichotomy of it before she was intercepted at the door.
“What business does a pony have in Griffonstone?” said the humorless griffon blocking her path -- looking down at her disdainfully. From his look and dress, he had to be a butler of some sort. ‘Yet another anomaly.’
Rosie found herself backing up a pace as she reached into her saddlebags, producing a scroll bearing Princess Celestia’s royal seal. “I have a letter for one Andor von Griffonstone, an invitation from Canterlot.”
The butler scratched his chin, less than subtly eyeing the seal. Sure enough, it passed muster. “Well, the Uberburgomeister is a -very- busy individual, Miss?”
“Rosie Air,” she said, her spirits sagging.
“I see, Miss Air. I’m sorry to say, but I won’t be able to help you as I can’t verify what you’re saying. I’m sure the Uberburgermeister would be happy to see you in… about a month?” The griffon held his talon out and cupped it in front of her, and made an obvious glance at her saddlebags and back to his own palm.
‘A bribe? Seriously? At least I can put it down as travel expense.’ Rosie grumbled darkly to herself as she pulled a 100-bit piece out and placed it in the griffon’s palm.
The Griffon guarding the door tried to hide his look of surprise. It had been ages since he’d seen this much coin. To think this simple pony was so easily swindled led him to think of other ways to get money out of her. But that would have to wait. “What do you know?” He said smugly, “It looks like I can fit you in. This way, please.” The butler made a mocking bow and held the large double door open for Rosie.
The first thing she noticed when she walked inside was the same feeling of faded glory. Portraits and family photographs lined the walls. Many pictures of impressive looking griffons with medals on their chests and paintings of battle scenes met her as she followed. One thing she didn’t notice were any others waiting like she had been. Or indeed any sign of anybody else in the building at all save for a faint sound of music coming from the large door at the end of the hallway.
The pair stopped at the door with the Butler knocking, “A visitor for you, sir. Miss Rosie Air, a messenger from Equestria.” He waited, only opening the door on hearing commanding voice say, “Let them in.” Rosie was filled with trepidation as she walked through the door. As before, she could see the walls were covered with personal effects. This time however, they seemed to be various medals, weapons, and documents that were obviously degrees or honors of some sort. She knew this despite her ignorance of the Griffon language, as similar hung on her own wall from when she graduated Canterlot University.
Most striking however, was that behind the large mahogany desk stood an even larger griffon who was facing away from her. He cut a statuesque and dignified figure the way he was peering out a large window in the back wall. He had greying feathers and his plumage must have been a striking black in his prime, which she could see he was some years past. Without turning to face her, he unfolded one of his powerful wings and motioned toward an empty chair. A finely crafted wooden seat which seemed perfectly designed for pony kind. “Please, sit.”
“T-thank you, sir.” Rosie said, doing her best not to sound like a mouse trapped in the lair of an eagle as she took her seat. The Griffon in front of her maintained his quiet vigil on the town, not turning to face her. “Excuse me, but I came from Canterlot. The Royal Princesses...”
Something about the word ‘Princesses’ gave him pause, and he turned to inspect Rosie. His face was covered in several scars which somehow only enhanced his image of dignified strength. One of his eyes was covered in an eyepatch, but the other held a fire and intensity Rosie had previously seen in only the most seasoned of the Guard, or in the Wonderbolts themselves. “Princesses, you say? When last my talons felt Canterlot marble, Celestia Sol Invicta ruled alone. Just who are you??”
Fighting down a blush, ‘Down, girl! He’s not even your own species! Though, Ashva was proof that Griffons and.. No. Just...no.' Rosie shook her head and looked to meet him in the eye. “I’m Royal Envoy to the Princesses Celestia and Luna,” she replied, laying the invitation on the desk in front of her.
“Princess Luna? So the rumors are true then? Celestia’s fabled sister has returned, and the two share the throne? There are those of us Griffons who would see that as a sign of weakness.” He said, silently adding 'Those who have never met the mare face to face, at least.’ “But excuse me, where are my manners. I am Andor von Griffonstone, Uberburgomeister of this humbled city,” he continued with a slight bow.
Rosie nodded her head in return. “A pleasure. One moment, please. Uberburgomaster? What is that?”
“I see your confusion. It’s a traditional title amongst Griffons for one who leads a city, much like your Mayors, but with a more martial overtone. I suppose a rough translation would be.. ‘Lord Mayor’?” Andor replied, showing none of the pride in such a position that Rosie would have expected.
“So, I see. Thank you. I thought Griffons were ruled by a king, at least that’s what I was briefed on before I left. That I was expecting to meet a king..?” Rosie said in confusion.
Andor gave a bitter laugh, and spoke with practiced patience. “Poor Celestia. A mare among mares, true, but as woefully ignorant of Griffonian affairs as we Griffons are of Equestrian politics. Though no fault of hers, I guess,” he paused, collecting himself. “Griffonstone hasn’t had a ‘king’ in over 50 years, with the passing of King Guto the Foolish. May his ancestors never give him rest…”
Rosie could hear the venom in his powerful voice. “Let me try to clarify some things for you, Miss Air. While, to anybody unfamiliar with Griffon politics, Griffonstone would appear to be a city-state in and of itself. The truth is a bit more complicated. True, every city of the Democratic Republic of Griffonia is nominally independent and handled its own affairs, with the most ambitious naming their rulers “King”. In truth all leaders in turn bend their knee to the capital city of Adlerstadt. But this isn’t what you are here for, is it? Come, let me read what the Grand Lady had to say, hmm?”
Andor picked up the royal missive. Having had experience with Celestia’s correspondence, he lays it flat in his palm while carefully breaking the seal. As he expected, it unrolled itself and levitated up to where he could read it. Several emotions warred on his face as he read aloud.
To my old friend, Sir Andor von Griffonstone,
It has been many years since we last shared words, Andor. I do sincerely apologize. The return of my sister after many years has occupied much of my thoughts in the last few years. Nevertheless, it would be my sincerest pleasure if you did us the honor of joining us in the Crystal Empire for the upcoming Equestria Games. It would be lovely for us to reminisce upon old times, and I would be most pleased to introduce you to my dear sister. We’re even bringing back the old Unarmed Combat competition! As I understand it, I’m sure it would pique your interests.
Your friend, Princess Celestia Sol Invicta
P.s. Do remember how I feel about formal titles, ‘Der Schwarzritter’
“She doesn’t know, does she?” Andor said to himself in a pained voice. “Miss Air, what did your Princess tell you to expect of me?”
“Andor, sir,” she paused trying to collect herself. “She said you were formidable, both of body and of spirit. She said to treat you like I would a captain of her own Royal Guard.” Rosie relaxed a bit as she saw a faint smile cross Andor’s beak.
“Yes. Yes, that does sound like her,” he said, pausing to look Rosie in the eyes. “I owe you an explanation, I believe. You probably wonder how someone that your Princess heaped that much praise upon is stuck here -- forgotten and old amongst hovels and squalor? Griffonstone wasn’t always like this. I…” The old fighter stressed his own part. “*I* wasn’t always like this.
“I saw how you were accosted on the street by beggars. I know that even my butler got his bits from you. I know that, among ponies, Griffons are legendary for our love of gold and wealth. But this is, this is something different entirely.” Andor shook his head as he began to pace, always keeping Rosie in his field of view. For a brief moment he seemed to stare intently at a small toy on the mantle. It was a figurine of a Griffon soldier in full battle gear that seemed worn with age.
“You see, when I was a chick, back in the reign of King Guto, 14th Sovereign of Griffonstone, we were the pride of Griffonia. Our mines produced the finest jewels and purest gold. Our scones were famous across the Republic and our smiths and crafts were in demand from here all the way to Neighpon. All of it thanks to the Idol of Boreas.
“Our first King, the first to EARN that title, was Grover the Gilt. He came into its possession after a long and bloody campaign against cultists who saw the Windigo as gods. If you’d believe it. All of those centuries that it sat in our town square, we met unrivaled prosperity. It was such that the High King of Adlerstadt had no choice but to accept Grover naming himself a King in his own right.
“All was well, until the Reign of Guto the Foolish. For so long as we produced the finest goods and the best soldiers, we were the pride of Griffonia. Were. But during Guto’s time Arimaspi, a creature of terrible power, attacked our town. I was but a young recruit at the time. Young and foolish to be the first to try and fight the creature off. I got this...” Andor stops to tap a talon against his eyepatch, “...for my troubles.”
Andor turned to face Rosie once again. “This signaled the downfall of Griffonstone.” Rosie sat, enraptured by the tale of woe. She had seen tragedies at the Royal Canterlot Opera, but this was another thing entirely. No story out of myth, this happened to real living Po-Griffons.
“Sure, we still had our pride. But with the loss of the Idol our mines went dry, as our fields went barren. Our smiths, deprived of the quality metals they were used to, found their products lacking. It was like a curse fell on our city with Griffon scamming Griffon for enough money to feed their chicks…” Andor’s voice wavered but he forced himself to continue.
“Were this Equestria, you’d think we could just plead to the Crown for assistance, and that’s exactly what we did. This was a mistake. Word came from Adlerstadt ‘A Griffon who seeks another Griffon’s gold is no Griffon. You have a king, look to -him- with your troubles.’ That was a laugh. You see, not long after the messenger delivered the bad news, Guto the Foolish had disappeared with the entire contents of the Treasury. Ever since that day, Griffonstone has been a blot on Griffon society! A bloody joke!”
“I’m.. very sorry to hear it, Sir Andor,” Rosie said, her heart welled up with sympathy for Griffonstone’s plight. “You didn’t owe me anything. It was quite generous of you to tell me.” She loved stories, and having conversations even more. However this one time she felt the weight of Andor’s tale press upon her as none had before.
“Ah, yes. The games,” Andor said, collecting himself. “Princess Celestia would have Der Schwarzritter attend. Sorry, that is ‘the Black Knight’ in Equish. Celestia always had a way to make one feel better about themselves, even after all this time. Today is the first day I’ve gone by that title in, maybe 10 years.” He stopped, but Rosie looked much like a Griffon ready to pounce the way she was perched on the edge of her seat. Andor felt the need to continue.
“Very well then. While Griffonia may have turned their backs on us as a whole, somehow I was seen as a hero. The brave warrior charging an enemy when he knew he couldn’t win? This is the sort of thing great operas are written about here. They put medals on my chest and inducted me into the military proper. There I served with distinction for decades.”
“Make no mistake, Miss Air. These talons have killed,” he said, lifting a claw for her inspection. “I was respected once. A great warrior. The High King himself knighted me after we put a final end to a hive of shapeshifters. They were like you ponies, but covered in an insect’s shell.” Andor noted to himself a look of recognition on the young mare’s face. ‘The shifters are known to her. Interesting…’ “But warriors, like all things, save your Princess, fade in time. Every passing year, I got a little older, a little slower. So they ultimately gave me a an ambassadorial position to your Canterlot. As much to get my greying hide out of their sight as anything I suppose. And after that was done, and I looked forward to a peaceful retirement. I found myself cast from the service. Much like fair Griffonstone herself, I ceased to be of any use.“
Andor turned to stare out the window, his face unreadable. “Is this what has become of us? Everything we have done, and we are reduced to this. Griffons begging on the street! Chicks growing up ignorant of the old ways, learning nothing of their heritage! Our pride and spirit forgotten in the name of getting every spare bit we can lay our talons on. I wouldn’t have this,” Andor paused. “I would have my town hold their heads high, I would have them not be ashamed of what they’ve become. I would have our people be industrious again. I would hear them singing “Das Lied der Griffonia” in the streets, as in the old days.”
Rosie found herself misty eyed as Andor spoke. “So, should I advise the princess you will be attending..?”
Andor stared at her, silent for a long time, “Just so, but tell her I will not join her in the royal box. I think I shall compete. She did say there was an unarmed combat tournament after all.” Rosie stood up to protest but Andor waved off her protests. “You think a Griffon of my age would come to grave harm at the talons and hooves of younger, faster fighters? You’d quite likely be right, but, it wouldn’t be the first time I stood no chance against an enemy.”
Andor nodded again, determined like he hadn’t been in years. “Yes, indeed, one last battle. For honor and glory, and who knows, maybe the young will watch and remember what we once were -- and could be again.” Andor smiled at her. “Go back to your Princess. Tell her that the Black Knight will spread his wings once more.”