43 - Moving Forward
Extended Holiday
Chp 43: Moving Forward
Act 5
Grif, Shrial, Twilight, and Rarity stood at the platform waiting for the train. With Pensword preparing for his trip to the Thestrals and Hammer Strike working on Luna’s armor, it seemed a good idea for the gryphon to return to Ponyville, and from there to head to New Unity to keep an eye on things.
“It seems strange that you had me come all the way up here for a single lesson.” Rarity said. “Shouldn’t we stay a few more days?”
“Hammer Strike isn’t going to be leaving his forge until the armor is done and knowing the first time he worked with that stuff, it could be a week or more before anypony sees him again.” Grif shrugged.
“But shouldn’t you be staying there with him?” Rarity asked.
“Honestly, Rarity, I wasn’t anywhere near him for most of the war. And right now I’d do more harm than good, especially with this city driving me crazy. And you're coming with me ‘cause you have a lot to learn.” Grif chuckled. “Besides, until Hammer Strike gets back I get to decide the priority of things being rebuilt, and there are more than a few less than important things I’d like to see worked on.”
“I need to get back to Spike and the library anyway,” Twilight noted. “Staying longer would just complicate things.”
Further conversation was cut off by the whistle of the train. “Heh. Almost miss Pensword’s little episodes when the trains come.” Grif smiled before he boarded, the others following behind..
He kept smiling as he bid Canterlot adieu, missing nothing save the friends currently waylaid in the city. Lying back in his seat, the gryphon’s eyelids casually shut. Anyone who cared to look closely would note the state being more trance-like than sleep. Internally there was still much work to be done.
Pensword paused in his travels as an ear twitched. “Train arrived into Canterlot Station.” he muttered before looking to Lunar Fang. “Art thou ready for the coming meeting?” he asked. “What worries me is how politely and formally the request was written. Let alone from the reclusive Baron.” He paused. “You do not think that it is because of the Blueblood we knew during the war?”
“Blueblood never does anything out of nostalgia or honor,” Lunar Fang said bluntly. “Perhaps he wants to make sure you aren't going to use anything against him.”
“I could use things against him? Why would I do that? He may be a pain, but I would rather not test the mettle of a house that is a thousand years old.”
“To be noble is to be paranoid in most cases,” Lunar Fang said, sighing.
Pensword gave a snort. “What odd notions. Nonetheless, we are approaching the estate,” he muttered as they saw the gates. What surprised them was that the hitherto unseen Baron stood waiting for them personally at the gate. His coat shone white with a light blue mane and tail. His cutie mark waved boldly on the white flags on either side of the gate, portraying the image of four crowns positioned at the tips of a cross. It reminded Pensword of a compass.
“Welcome to Blueblood Estates.” The lord said with a grin. The gates lay opened wide as a gesture of peace and openness. “If you wouldn’t mind, please join me for tea in the gazebo.” Baron Blueblood smiled and turned around without further interaction, leading the way as they began their walk.
“We thank you for your hospitality, baron,” Lunar Fang spoke, nodding respectfully. Pensword remained silent. However, he did manage to cast a cool nod of thanks in the Baron’s direction before he turned away. The biting words from Prince Blueblood still hung in his mind, though he was not there to hear them personally, the apple doesn’t usually fall far from the tree.
The gazebo was a screened building the size of most one car garages from earth, or even a small home in Ponyville. It was richly appointed and already a tea service lay waiting with a plate of sugar cane stalks to the side. Pensword eyed them suspiciously with a raised brow.
They all settled on cushions that lay on the floor as Baron Blueblood poured tea into each cup. The complete lack of guards and servants was not lost on the couple as they watched the Lord. His calm expression seemed more like a mask than it did a face. At last, the baron spoke, his voice calm and even, almost casual. “I will presume you wonder why I asked you here.” He paused as he placed the teapot back on the serving tray resting on a silver tea trolley. “I will cut to the point. It is to deal with the matter of the founders of our house. You see, The skeleton in our closet, as you know already, is that our house has a few ‘bats,’ as some of the more vocal houses would say.” He held up a hoof, his expression cool and calm as he closed his eyes in a staying gesture of peace. “I will not lie to you. I have brought you here to make a request, and to deal. Some of the old laws are in effect. For example, if you are willing to forego any mention of certain meetings with Thestral tribes between our ‘blood lines,’ we are willing to hold off on laying claim to some ancestral lands in your New Unity project.”
“So, in return for us keeping a valuable piece of history hidden you will not exercise a right that your bloodline lost claim to more than three hundred years ago?” Lunar Fang asked.
“Actually,” Baron Blueblood replied. “The Blueblood camp on the outskirts of old Unity, which became a small collection of homes right before the fall of Unity and after the dreadful Nightmare Moon incident, has fallen back into our right due to the last of the line, Rosepetal, dying at the age of one hundred and two, three days ago.” Surprisingly, the supposedly ruthless lord actually looked pained. “A great ally and good friend she was.” He shook his head. “As for history, are you planning to rock all of Equestria with the news of what old families did? Of offshoots and Cadet branches of houses that married Thestrals? Think of the chaos that would bring, the purges of family lines that could happen if that news got out. All Noble houses know we have Thestrals in our past. However, none wish for it to be public knowledge. Three Noble houses have been looking to take House Blueblood down the last three generations. And getting the proof you hold of our founder being mated to a thestral could very well destroy us.” He looked worried. “If House Blueblood falls, then others could hold claim to the passes, and to Mountainside Falls.”
“What did you say?” Pensword snapped the sugar cane stalk in half as he heard the name of his hometown.
“By legal documentation, House Blueblood was placed as guardians of the lands that the Thestrals fled to. If the information falls and our house is destroyed, there are two noble houses, House Stanley and House Crane, who wish to turn your home into-”
“You will be presenting these forged documents immediately.” Lunar Fang said, cutting in. “House Blueblood was given stewardship of House Strike alone. Pensword, himself arranged this and both Celestia and Luna were present at its decree. Lord Hurricane was given the right to watch over the lands of the pass, the fort, and Mountainside Falls: the personal lands given to Pensword. The Blueblood line has no claim there and your papers will be disproven.” Her pupils had receded to slits, indicating the level of anger the baron’s words had brought. Still, Blueblood remained unphased he even managed to look crestfallen.
“The folder is there on the table at the other side of the room.” Blueblood sighed, as if trying to let go of a heavy burden. “Six hundred years ago, House Hurricane faced some financial problems. The Duke Blueblood at the time helped bail him out. However, it came at a cost. We lost the Duchy and became barons. In the aftermath, as a sign of respect, the Duke Captain Hurricane compensated our loss and hardship by making us joint stewards. It turned out to be a moment of serendipity, as two minor houses joined to try and wrest control of those lands to take their fertile farmlands and mineral deposits for themselves. Our two forces were able to push the invaders out and the two minor houses were absorbed into the Hurricane holdings. Since then, the stewardship of your holdings has alternated every generation. We currently are in charge till my death. Then the stewardship will return to Hurricane’s control. Six hundred years of dealings on a hoofshake.” The baron smiled sadly. “Alas, my House’s power has been waning these last three years. And as I said, House Stanley and House Crane wish to wrest the lands from both of our control. If House Blueblood falls and is split up, their combined assets with the clanless hirelings could overwhelm Hurricane’s forces. You saw the state of the guards. While Hurricane is the most prepared, I doubt any of us could face a full on noble war.”
Pensword sat calmly as he listened. Amazing, he thought, how convoluted a thousand years of politics could cause things to become. However, something didn’t quite feel right. There had to be a trump card. Blueblood was too cunning not to have one. He looked to his mate to gauge her reaction and thoughts as she prepared to speak.
“You're threatening to not return Pensword’s lands?” Lunar Fang’s face was stony as she looked on the noble. “Baron, you are by far the stupidest upstart we have had to deal with.” She looked to Pensword. ”Shall I call the guards and begin the process for treason against Equestria? Or would you prefer a summary execution?”
“Not from me, Commandante Lunar Fang.” Blueblood answered. “I am merely warning and advising Pensword of the current situation. He could have a dragon defend the pass and the lands. And he could easily have his clan and fellow Thestrals fight off the invaders. But why should we even have a war? He can reveal all the facts he wants after he gains full control of his lands. I do plan on returning them to him well and in tact.” He turned to Pensword as his expression softened.
“It was never my intention to hold on to what is yours by conquest and birth. I only wished to give you a greater idea of the big picture. Doing anything rash, or allowing the Thestrals to try and contact the noble houses who married ancestors of their clans could cause problems. Those places have seen enough bloodshed and I wish only to prevent further conflict. After you have regained full control and possession of your lands, you can do whatever it is you wish. You may even reveal the forgotten mother of House Bloodblood. The lands you have full right to are coveted due to the historic nature and the wealth held in both physical and trade value.” He looked to Lunar Fang. “Which House Hurricane and Blueblood have only shared point five percent between us, I might add. The rest has been stored by Princess Celestia for your return, either mined by the Thestrals, or even untouched and unmined for you and your mate to decide what to do.”
“Be wary of your words, Baron,” Lunar Fang said, turning her lips up just enough enough to bare that famed smile only a Thestral could pull off: as friendly as it was frightening. “You may end up finding out what happened to the last house who crossed us.”
Pensword remained sitting, his look pensive. At last, he broke the silence. “I think I will keep my mouth shut.” The baron looked relieved. “But, only if you promise that in six month’s time the lands will be fully handed over to my care and control.”
A smile crossed the lips of Baron Blueblood. “I can accept that. In six months you shall be in full control of your birthplace, as well as the Fort that made you famous.” His eyes twinkled. “I hope you have a successor picked for your role in House Strike. The adopted son of Hurricane shall soon have his own landed position. It would be very unlikely to remain captain of the guard to another noble.”
“I do. And it does not involve House Blueblood, nor House Hurricane.” Pensword spoke simply.
“Something that is understandable. You have not been around either house long enough to trust them fully.” Baron Blueblood replied with that same smile.
“I think it’s time we left this meeting,” Lunar fang said. “We have business to take care of.” As they left the grounds Lunar Fang looked to Pensword, her gaze confused. “Why would you agree?”
“Because, it will cement his plans and ambitions faster. You saw his worry over the two minor houses. Also, the sooner the lands fall under my control, the sooner I can have forces loyal only to me or my clan guarding it.” Pensword smiled a little. “I also think that by the time I reveal this skeleton of a Thestral being part of the starting house, House Stanley and House Crane might suddenly find themselves minor houses to House Blueblood.” He looked to the walls of the estate. “The lands gained from that most likely will outweigh the loss of the lands his house has stewardship over.”
“What are your plans then? You know neither the Lion Tribe, nor the council of chiefs will accept you withholding such information.”
“It is not withholding information, it is giving time for the nobles to prepare to greet lost family.” He spoke diplomatically. “We will cause enough mayhem with the introduction of Thestrals en masse into Canterlot after our journey. We need to give time for things to settle down before we rock the nobility to the core.”
He turned his head to look at Lunar Fang. “I do not want families to purge their lines. On Earth, we have faced ethnic purges before: complete destruction of villages and homes due to a change of religion.” His eyes suddenly looked haggard and haunted. “I do not want the Gryphons of a thousand years ago to win because of nobles falling upon one another. The news will get out. But six months will give all houses time to prepare, build walls, and hopefully do things more rationally. Imagine if enemies of Equestria saw the nobility under Princess Luna and Celestia suddenly having to deal with rioting and a quasi civil war. It could bring invaders.” He paused at the gates. “We are not ready at all for that.”
“Very well.” Lunar Fang sighed. “I just hate it when a self absorbed parasprite like that wins in the end”
“Who said he won?” Pensword muttered with a smile, his fangs glinting. “You forget just who is loyal on those lands. If anything, he is making it look like he won when really, he is cutting his losses.” He pulled his wife into a hug and kissed her on the muzzle. “Remember who is currently living on those lands, knows them inside and out, can live off less than a normal pony, and live in caves if needed.” He nuzzled her at the base of her ear. “I see this as a victory, as those lands shall become Equestrian in six months, fully integrated by High Chieftess Luna’s words.”
Pensword flapped his wings and looked Lunar Fang in the eyes as the two rose together. “On the surface, Blueblood looks like he won, but really, did you hear the resources we have untapped there? He knows he cannot win if a war breaks out. The Thestrals have it fortified and Haymin lives up there.” He settled on the road back into Canterlot as they approached the gates. “What he has won was a balm to his ego. Nothing more.” he turned around and flicked his tail at her playfully. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on him.”
Hammer Strike had paused his work as he looked at Pensword, Lunar Fang, Blast Shield, and Tower Shield. They all stood waiting on his words. For today, the duty of Captain of the Guard would pass from Pensword to a new pony. The only thing anypony knew was that the finalist for the position was in the room. Other than that, no pony knew who Hammer Strike had picked to replace Pensword.
“Lord-” Blast Shield cleared his throat and tried again, remembering his orders. “Hammer Strike, we have something for you.” He looked uncertainly to his brother. Tower Shield nodded.
“And that would be?” Hammer Strike asked with a raised brow.
The two brothers stepped forward in unison and produced a pair of envelopes, each engraved with a steady script on the covers. “Our letters of resignation, sir. We are not fit to be your guards after all that has happened.”
“What makes you say that?” He asked.
“We allowed you to enter that place unguarded, unprotected-”
“And as a result, you nearly died. True, it was history, but that is no excuse.” the two brothers said, their countenances grave.
“Yes, history noted it, but there were other reasons for this. I didn’t bother to bring you both on that wild adventure because it was going to last thirty seven years,” Hammer Strike replied. “I accepted this as a cost to retrieve Pensword and Grif back from the sands of time. Lunar Fang was needed in this, but you both did not need to torture yourselves away from family and others for such a length.”
“Sir … it was our duty.” The two looked staunchly on him. “Our ancestors would expect nothing less. We fell short.” Blast Shield looked his lord in the eye, determined, albeit tearful.
“Lost Shield and Strike Shield would expect you both to push past that and stop worrying about a mistake you didn’t make.” Hammer Strike replied.
“I will agree with that, I met those two,” Pensword said as he broke rank. “They would expect you to do the jobs you both swore to do in this time period. The Shields have in fact protected House Strike from at least the Third Gryphon War. Thine honor is still untarnished and it gleams with thine actions this day, a testament to thy fierce loyalty and love.” His eyes narrowed. “As letters of resignation need first pass through me before reaching Hammer Strike, I hereby claim these and deny your resignation.”
The two brothers stared, slack jawed at the pegasus. “Say what, now?”
“And that there, is the reason for my choice.” Hammer Strike started up again. “You two have both shown that you are loyal enough to try and resign because of an error. Therefore, in recognition of such love for your Lord, I am assigning you both as the new Captains of my guard.”
The two brothers’ jaws dropped once again. “You’re what?” Tower Shield asked.
“But, sir, this is highly irregular. It goes against every code and regulation.” Blast Shield protested. Tower quickly fell in line next to him, nodding his head vigorously.
“And as you both know, I don’t follow the customs other nobles do.” Hammer Strike smirked. “You’ll both work perfectly for the job.”
“But … but, sir!” The two said in unison.
“No buts about it.” Hammer Strike cut them off. “Don’t quote regulations to me. Pensword wrote half of them and then gave them to me verbally.”
“I did.” Pensword replied, looking rather pleased with himself before frowning a little. “I might have to rewrite them again. Half of what I wrote must be outdated.” He chuckled a little. “So do not quote them at all. They might just be changing in the near future.”
“Sir, we … we don’t know what to say.” Blast shield said, his eyes shining with tears.
“Well, how about a yes? Then I will officially hand over the duties of my office to the two of you, and we can have some cake to celebrate. Of course, then it’ll be back to duty and normal routine,” Pensword said.
“Sounds about right,” Hammer Strike said, nodding in agreement. “Well, this was a nice break, though after this I’ll have to get back to work for the next seventy two hours or so.”
Pensword stood and pulled an old medal from his armor. “As pertaining to the traditions of Military Officers of Noble Houses, I, Pensword of the House of Pen, do hereby relinquish the symbol of my power and authority over those that swear allegiance to thy house and to thy military orders.” He waited for Hammer Strike to take the medal before giving a sharp salute. The medal was a simple gold disk with Hammer Strike’s cutie mark stamped into it. The fabric sash it hung from was the same color as his main coat and the middle stripe the color of his mane.
“I thank you for the services you have performed in my house.” Hammer Strike said, taking the medal from Pensword. He then turned to face the two Shield brothers. “It will be an even greater pleasure having you both serve in my noble house, commanders.” Hammer Strike said to the brothers. Reaching into his coat, he withdrew a second medal identical to the first. After a moment of dramatic silence, he held it out to the brothers.
“Th-thank you, sir.” Tower Shield said as the two brothers pinned the medals to their breasts. Then they turned to their lord, gave a formal salute … and promptly passed out.
“Well then.” Hammer Strike said aloud. “We should probably move them.”
“Well, they took it better than I thought.” Pensword muttered, looking towards Lunar Fang. She smiled, a merry twinkle playing in her eye. “They only fainted. No yelling or screaming.”
“Let’s move them to the forge, they’ll eventually wake up to the sound of metal hitting bone, and/or more metal.” Hammer Strike said as he shrugged.
“Agreed. Come on Lunar Fang, a little help, please.” Pensword spoke as he took one of the guards’ forehooves. “We can put both of them on Hammer Strike’s back.”
Grif stood alone in his tower, looking out over the grounds. Shrial was eating with the troops. The journey had been uneventful and the castle was coming along well. Sylvio had started to grow… a lot. The once timber wolf pup was now half the size of Grif and looking a few ponies in the eye. Currently, things were peaceful. Now was the time for something that Grif had been putting off for far too long. Laying down in the tower, the gryphon slowed his breathing and concentrated, cutting his mind off from everything around him. He found himself once again within his mental space, but there was no longer an armory or library. The entire area had been blanked. Even Deadpool was gone from the space he always seemed to occupy. The gryphon looked upon the only other being present with a sigh.
“I suppose it’s time?” Grif looked down at Taze. “Funny. I never thought I’d find an ending here.”
Taze laughed “It’s an ending no one needs to know about.” He looked around. “Besides, it’s only a technical death. We’ll still be alive in a fashion. Just not in this fashion.” The human cracked his neck muscles. “Besides, it’s worth it isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Grif sighed. Before the two, a single image appeared, the smiling face of a certain gryphoness. “You think she’ll notice?”
“When whoever it is starts sprouting off poetry, I think she’ll get the picture.” Taze laughed. “You’re many things, my friend, but you're no scholar.”
“So…. How do we do this?” Grif asked after a moment of silence.
“I’m not sure, but I would guess we simply will ourselves together. We could always do the fusion dance if you need a visual aid,” Taze offered.
“For the last time, warriors do not dance like that,” Grif said. “... and no earrings either.”
“I told you, we don’t do that kind of jewelry. Rings or chains only. Nothing pierces this flesh,” Taze said. “Though I guess even that’s gonna be his choice from now on, isn’t it?”
“Yeah….” Grif said. “Well … I geuss, on three?”
Taze nodded. “One ...” he said as his form began to ripple, the colours becoming muted.
“Two...” Grif followed suit as their colors completely vanished, leaving two silhouettes.
“Three...” Their voices echoed across the empty chasm that was their mind as the two silhouettes drifted into each other, the shadows mixing and separating chaotically when they collided. This would carry on over the next several hours as the forms shifted and altered, building and destroying, adding and subtracting.
Finally, as in the outside world the barest hint of sun rays appeared on the horizons, the silhouettes took the form of a single strange beast. Digitigrade lion paws replaced feet and taloned hands grew from the sum of two parts. Green feathers flourished across the chest as black fur and feathers blanketed the form. A harsh predatory beak grew from its face. It sat there, breathing deeply for a time, as if gaining mastery over itself. Finally, the eye’s snapped open.
Grif looked out at the sunrise carefully, his mind had never contemplated such a beautiful thing in all his life as he waited for the gryphoness beside him to rouse from her sleep.
Shrial breathed a heavy sigh, snuggling contentedly against Grif’s soft feathers. “I love you so much,” she mumbled in her sleep, not aware she was speaking aloud.
Grif’s heart jumped hearing those words. Ever so gently he sounded the robin call into her ear. Familiar with this ritual by now, Shiral's eyes snapped open, a contented smile on her beak as she looked into Grif’s beautiful eyes. The fight of dark and light blue were gone. In their place the light blue swirled peacefully in tune with the dark, a tiny speck of dark blue at the head of the light and a mirror of light at the head of the dark.
"To see one so radiant next to the sunrise and that sunrise to not know how lucky it should be to look down in burning jealousy at the beauty of thee." The gryphon spoke lightly. His voice lacked the harsher backtone Grif’s always seemed to carry.
"It finally happened, didn't it?" Shrial asked as she looked at Grif with worry, and a little sadness.
He looked at her with a blank face. "What happened, dove?" he asked. "The only thing that has happened of note is I woke up to see something extravagant. And then a somewhat pretty sunrise followed afterwards."
She kissed him, staring into that endless pool of swirling color, a perfect balance of light and darkness. "You two finally merged. Your eyes are calm."
"Two?" he asked once again, confused as he gently pulled her closer. "What two do you mean?"
"Taze and Grif, she said. His brows furrowed in confusion. "You do remember being separate, don't you?"
"I am Taze, I am Grif. The separation is only an illusion for the ponies," Grif said "Didn't we talk about this? I can be kinda absent minded at times, so don't worry if we haven't. Thats my fault. There is no wall, there is no separation, there's just me: the clumsy ashen crow who blots out the light of your radiant beauty." He smiled then.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, dear. Except maybe here." She pulled Grif in for another kiss. "That was no act, Grif. I saw it. And while I do love you, that makes me worry all the more. Tell me, what happened last night?"
"I ..." Grif concentrated, the process almost painful. "We needed to die. We needed to not be so I could be no more we. No more two minds breaking apart … giving in" he grasped his head. "never apart ... never again."
Shrial took his talons gently and pulled them down. Love and concern shone in her eyes as she spoke in her calmer tone. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it? You need to be willing to admit these things to yourself. If that's what happened, don't try to block it out; own it. Besides; the others have the right to know."
"I told Hammer Strike ... Pensword will be able to tell." The male gryphon took his hands from Shrials and held them to his head as he tried to regain order in his mind.
"How can you have told Hammer Strike if this only just happened? Or did you decide to do something risky without telling me?" Shrial asked, her voice turning testy.
"Told him I would be different. I told him the person up here may not be the same, but he is always his friend," Grif said "... Not dangerous, not risky. Minds were already merging. Too complex to be put back together. Had to be broken down and remade as one. There was no other way" His voice began to slow down as he got his breathing under control. The shock and pain of the ordeal was almost over now.
"You'd better be telling me the truth, Grif Grafson. If you're not I'll give you a beating you won't soon forget." Shrial said, glaring him in the eye.
The gryphon lifted his head, the panic gone from behind those eyes as he scooped her up and hugged her. "I can't lie to you. I, we, they changed that. Never again can I lie to you."
She giggled. "Never say never, Grif. It might come back to bite you." Then she kissed him once more.
Grif smiled at her as he whistled the first notes to an old gryphon song. "I'll swim and sail on savage seas, with ne’er a fear of drowning," He moved to his bag and withdrew one of the signet rings from it before turning back to her. "And gladly ride the waves of life-" he lowered himself down as he held up the ring. "If you would marry me.” He looked at her large swirling eyes, hopeful, “No scorching sun, nor freezing cold will stop me on my journey. If you will promise me your heart, and love..." he trailed off as the tradition dictated.
She looked back into his eyes. A soft, unguarded look glowed as the morning rays played on her face. Fear, sorrow, guilt, happiness, and love raged within her, much like the savage seas of the ancient tune. She stood there, frozen in place as Grif kept her gaze. When she still did not respond, his head fell and he began to pull back the ring. Shrial’s heat nearly broke at the sight. It was beating so fast. But she knew if she did nothing, she would regret it the rest of her days. The first notes came out raspy, choked, and quiet, but soon gained strength as she steadily rolled along. A strong lilt slowly came to her voice as she sang along. "And love me for eternity. My dearest one, my darling dear, your mighty words astound me. But I've no need of mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me." Tears stood in her eyes.
Grif started and turned to her again, his own heart beating in his throat as his voice changed in tone and pacing. Slowly, he slid the ring onto her talon. "But I would bring you rings of gold, I'd even read you poetry, and i would keep you safe from harm if you would stay beside me" Their eyes met and they smiled then as Grif began to twirl Shrial in his arms.
Shrial smiled at her love as her voice began to increase the tempo. "I have no use for rings of gold. I care not for your poetry. I only want your hand to hold ..."
"I only want you near me" Seemingly effortlessly, Grif threw her into the air and caught her in his arms. The two danced to the invisible tune as they sang together. "To love, to kiss, to sweetly hold, for the dancing and the dreaming; through all life's sorrows and delights i'll keep your love inside me. I'll swim and sail on savage seas with ne'er a fear a of drowning and gladly ride the waves of life if you would marry me!" At the end, Grif stood holding her above his head and as they held the final note he brought her down to him and kissed her.
Shrial couldn't help but laugh, then cocked her head, confused. "I could have sworn I heard someone else holding that note after we finished." She shook her head. "Must be imagining things. Well now, my dearly betrothed. How shall we celebrate our engagement?" she asked with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Should I lock the door?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.
"Well, now. That depends entirely on what you have planned, love." She said, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Grif laughed as he locked the door. The two didn't make a public appearance until lunch was already underway. Grif notably had minor scratches along his back and Shrial seemed busy preening herself all day. Neither of the two would say anything about where they had been.
“Names?” The pony asked from behind the glass counter, his hoof resting on a pile of application sheets. His coat stood out a darker grey with a hint of purple, his mane more of a pure grey. He wore a simple white button shirt with a brown vest to accentuate his frame and his gold framed glasses lay on the tip of his nose as he peered over them at the two ponies before him.
“Pensword.” The pegasus with the tufted ears replied. He was dressed in a white shirt, black bowtie, a jacket, and a top hat. He smiled a little. One could see his Navy blue coat with white mane and tail. His ice blue eyes had a twinkle to them as he looked to the mare at his side.
“Is that your full legal name, sir?”
“No.” Pensword muttered. “My Full name is Pensword Hurricane of the Dream Clan of the Bear Tribe.”
The pony’s eyes widened briefly. “Ah. You are that Pensword. And may I ask who this lovely young lady is?” The clerk said as he hastily opened a dusty drawer and pulled out a new form with more space. He hastily scrawled out the long name. “It’s a good thing we leave these old forms for the thestral weddings. Princes Luna insisted on it after the Thestrals were integrated the first time.” He winked at the pair through his lenses, his old grey eyes glinting.
“Lieutenant Colonel Moonshade of the Lunar Guard” Moonshade said, taking a moment to fully remember her old name.
“You know, young lady, you are one lucky Thestral. It’s not every day that a mare gets to marry a stallion like Pensword. I’m sure half the kingdom will be jealous.” He smiled good naturedly. “Oh, and by the way, congratulations on the clearing of those charges.”
“Thank you.” Pensword replied. “Let’s just say that Lunar Fang is insisting that I marry Moonshade,” he muttered.
“Say no more, say no more. I am familiar with Thestral Lore well enough.” The pony said, raising a hoof. “So, who are to be your witnesses? I will need to include their names on the document, and they will need to sign afterwards to make it official. A judge can have you two married shortly thereafter, but you know how it is. Paperwork. All things must have order after all.”
Pensword rose a wing only for Moonshade to smack it back down. “I think they have to be living to count.” Pensword made an O shape with his muzzle as a bashful look crossed his facial features.
“What are we going to do?” Moonshade whispered.
“I do not know, Moonshade.” Pensword muttered to her. A name he had almost forgotten. It felt strange calling her that, even though it was the name she was born with. He looked up and around. “Grif is back in Ponyville. So are Shrial and Rarity. Hammer Strike is busy in the forge and the Princesses are both in meetings.” He blushed. “I completely forgot about the need for witnesses.”
“Maybe you two should look around the historical society?” the official noted. “I’m sure they would be honored to help you.”
“Right.” Pensword muttered and paused. “Uh, dear, do you or the official behind the glass know where the Historical Society meets?”
“Two halls down first door on your right,” the old pony noted.
“Thank you.” Moonshade replied as the two turned around and followed the directions. They soon arrived at the door and they paused to look at one another. They nodded and they both pushed the door open. Wall upon wall of book and empty display cases greeted them as light filtered in through the dusty skylights and windows overhead. Ancient tapestries hung side by side, decorating the walls as they depicted images of Celestia, Star Swirl, a zebra with a unicorn in a strange land, and many others, including earth pony surrounded by three minotaurs. Pensword scrunched his eyebrows as he moved in for a closer look. “Is that …?”
“Hello. Can I help you?” an old dusty voice spoke up from behind a shelf. Books, artifacts, scrolls, weapons, and tablets levitated through the air as a head peeked around the corner. The mare’s grey mane curled around her old face as she smiled, her horn glowing an earthy brown.
Pensword jumped, hovering in the air and ready to strike until he realized that the voice was coming from a civilian. He slowly dropped back to the ground and chuckled sheepishly. “Well,” he started, “We are looking for some witnesses for a marriage license. All our friends have either got prior meetings in Canterlot or had to return to their homes by train this morning.” He chuckled a little, embarrassed at the turn of events as a flush rose in his cheeks. “May we have a little help?”
The mare flicked her head and the cases opened. In a matter of seconds the artifacts zoomed into place before gently settling in their stands, an old staff went last of all, decorated with all manner of carvings and runes. A crystal lay at its crown as it set itself horizontally in the air. Then it slowly descended onto the two supports designed for it before the light died and the case shut itself with a satisfying click. She smiled. “It belonged to Starswirl the Bearded, or so the legends say. Nopony could authenticate it, so it’s just a nice trinket to draw the younger unicorns in.”
“That’s amazing!” Pensword zipped up to the case before Lunar Fang reigned him back in with a wing to the back.
“The wedding, dear, remember?”
“Oh, yes.” He laughed a little hesitantly. “Sorry. You know how I am with history.”
“Yes, dear, I know. Now let’s see what this pony has to say to our request before we get lost in all of this, hmm?”
“That is a bit of an unusual request to make here. What's your name, friend?” A deeper voice asked from behind. It may have been old, it still held strength. This time it was Lunar Fang’s turn to jump.
Pensword snickered a little, then paused and looked to his mate, a mischievous grin on his muzzle. “Pensword,” He replied.
A double thump was heard followed by mumbled curses as two ponies rushed where the ponies stood. The unicorn mare got up first, her grey mane and tail askew. Her tan fur was accented by her cutie mark, a black tablet with white writing. The other pony was a full grey stallion with the cutie mark of a scroll. While he had aged, his body still had a toned appearance and his mane stood full and well kept. Pensword could tell just by looking at him that this pony had been trained. “Commander Pensword?” the mare asked.
Pensword rose an eyebrow. “Well, yes.” He moved to show his cutie mark. “Though you seem to run just at the name. Surely there are those that have a name similar to mine.” He looked to the Historians. “Why rush so quickly?”
“We had heard you were back, but we haven’t been able to get ahold of you for an interview,” the mare told him. “Those brutes wouldn’t so much as let us near the castle,” she said, snorting as she shook her mane back into position. The stallion stepped next to her protectively and nodded in agreement.
“You know how some from the empire can be. They offered to give us plenty of ‘facts,’ but somehow I doubt they would have been accurate.” The stallion said flatly.
Pensword nodded in agreement. “They still hate me for defeating them in a war they had no right to begin in the first place.” Moonshade put a wing around him and he slowly calmed down. Then he looked at the two historians, a playful glint in his eye. “Well, if you are willing to be witnesses to our license, I think I can give you, oh, an hour or so for an interview if you wish?” he offered, smiling as he nuzzled his “bride to be.”
“Of course,” the stallion said hastily, his hoof twitching before he stopped it. Pensword smiled good naturedly. The mare stepped up and excitement shone in her eyes, granting a new look of youth to her old face.
“Princess Celestia has never given much information and any insights to the war could be amazing for Equestrian history. We’ll do it.”
“Then it is a done deal. Please follow me.” He shook his head. “This will make a good story to tell the foals.” He chuckled and hugged Lunar Fang with a wing as they walked.
“You found a new mare, then?” the stallion asked. “This is going to cause a media scandal. I am Elder Script, by the way. And this is my assistant, Cipher.”
Pensword laughed. “Well,” he looked around. “I wouldn’t just come to the future without my mate if I had a choice. Nasty problem is that the media insists that she is dead, so we are just using an old name she picked up that is not considered deceased.” He chuckled. “I am all for obeying the law, but if it means having to forego my wife and mate, a little detour is in order.” His muzzle twitched.
“An interesting conundrum. But this isn’t the first time.” Cipher laughed “There was one lord who married seven times to the same mare.”
“What?” Pensword asked with a raised eyebrow. “Please, do tell. I think I would enjoy this story.” He chuckled a little. “What caused him to marry the same mare seven times?”
“He was married to an explorer,” Elder Script explained. “She had a tendency to be gone so long people declared her dead. Every time she proved them wrong, he would be waiting for her. He married her using a name from a different language every time.”
“That is rather romantic. What was the name of this explorer?” he asked as they reached the doors to the marriage office once more. The stallion and mare laughed.
Pensword caught on quickly and began to chuckle. “You two?” he asked with another chuckle. “Of all the Historians in all the places in Equestria.” he muttered paraphrasing a quote from a rather famous scene. He paused and face hoofed. “Oh? Oh dear.” He shook his head. “Great at seeing a map and giving a battle. But seeing the hole I just trotted into ....” He shook his head. “Well, what was the last name used by the Explorer?”
“Northern Compass” Cipher said. “That was her birth name.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Moonshade muttered as they entered the room. Any further discussion of the topic was placed on hold for the other important ceremony at hoof.
“What hit us?” Blast Shield rubbed his head as he slowly got to his hooves.
“The floor,” He heard a voice answer.
“Ha ha.” Blast Shield said, looking at his brother. “I had the weirdest dream that we got promoted.”
“That was real.” Hammer Strike answered again, still working on the metal before him.
“Oh…”
“Congratulations. Now I would suggest waking up your brother.”
Blast Shield shook Tower carefully. “Come on, wake up”
Tower groaned in his sleep. “Five more minutes …”
“Tower how are we going to look commanding Lord Hammer Strike’s forces if you sleep on duty?” Blast Shield scolded.
“Like a very intimidating sleeper.” Tower groaned as he clopped to all fours. “So that wasn’t a dream?”
“No.” Hammer Strike answered again.
“Great. So what do you want us to do now, sir? We can’t exactly leave you unguarded.”
“Tower, maybe you should see if we can get more help from the family?” Blast Shield asked. “I can stay here with Lord Hammer Strike.”
Tower chuckled. “Who’d have thought we’d be following in our ancestors’ hoofprints… literally?”
“Grandpa Buckler should be ecstatic, he was always talking about this.” Blast Shield smiled.
“He’d go ballistic if he knew. Think I’ll bring him along. He’d be honored to meet the genuine article.” Tower winked as he slowly plodded out the door. “Still can’t believe he did that,” he muttered, his voice carrying back into the forge as he clopped away.
“Is there anything you need, L- Hammer Strike?” Blast Shield asked, just barely catching himself at the last minute.
“Not at the moment.” Another “tink” went through the air as Hammer Strike struck the heated metal again. Pulling it up he looked at it before giving a small nod. “You’re free to do as you wish. I’ll honestly be here for hours, if not days.” He sighed. “Repairing the armor I made a thousand years ago, only for Celestia to let it decay…”
“If you made it a thousand years ago and it’s still in one piece that's still something to be proud of,” the guard offered.
“True. Though I would have prefered it to last longer due to it being made from the bones of an Ursa.” He frowned. “And weeks worth of shaping ... almost no breaks besides to eat something. Oh yes, and around seven broken anvils.”
“At least you have that hardened diamondized anvil now,” he offered. “They take quite a bit of punishment before they…”
A loud discordant clang boomed through the room as the anvil fractured, breaking apart at the force Hammer Strike was using to reshape the bone plates. He stared at the anvil for a moment before looking to Blast. “Well then.”
“...Should I get you a new one?” Blast Shield asked.
“See if they can bring a few…”
Pensword took a calming breath of air. Moonshade was waiting back at their room. He still felt giddy over that word. “Their” room. He was sharing a room with his wife and mate. But now she was back under her old name and they had been married a second time. At least till Lunar Fang could be declared living again. He paused and moved a hoof to rub his nose as he stopped in the park in Canterlot. He paused as he looked at one of the statues of Celestia. She was in a resting pose to present shade for any tired travelers on their way through. The amazing thing about Canterlot was that despite being a big city, small parks and green spaces sprung up all over the land. It seemed that nature and progress existed in perfect harmony here. He paused at an empty park bench and sat down like a normal pony. He let out a snort of relief as he finally got to relax. At last, things were beginning to feel like they were going back to normal. His life couldn’t have been better.
A loud shrieking sound echoed through the park as something made its way towards pensword. A large male gryphon with deep brown feathers and grey fur bee lined for him.
Pensword’s mind clicked and he moved a little, it was a small shift but instead of relaxing and being calm, he would be able to act. His eyes looking at the Gryphon. A wing moved in case he had to use his officer blade. He knew not to run just yet, he was going to see what this was, as Gryphons used sounds to intimidate others into reacting or winning without bloodshed. At least that’s what Grif had told him.
The gryphon stopped before him. Its larger frame indicated he was a male and his voice soon confirmed it. “You!” he growled. “You have insulted my people and my race and I will have satisfaction,” the gryphon said pulling a glove from his red leather vest and tossing it to the ground at Pensword’s feet.
Pensword raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually challenging me to a duel?” He moved to stand up on the bench. “Which laws are you following?” He moved to step down and pick up the glove. “How serious of a fight?” He paused and chuckled. “Oh, smart Gryphons.” he muttered. “Putting me on trial opened up the dueling laws … or rather, the laws from a thousand years ago.” He chuckled as he picked up the glove with a wing and held it waiting for the Gryphon to state what he was going to do.
“Be back here at nine o’clock this evening, as the injured party, I will supply the weapons. Bring a second. You’ll need one.” The gryphon sneered once more before snatching the glove. He turned smartly before launching into the air.
“Well, that’s that.” Pensword muttered as his mind already began to work. “I better inform Luna, as she is my High Chiefess. I guess I should also inform Lord Hammer Strike, Lunar Fang …” he put a hoof to his chin. “Better write a letter to Grif informing him that we may be open for duels in the near future.” He turned to the entrance of the park and trotted away at a pace that would get him to his destination in a timely manner. As he continued, he realized he had kept another old habit from his human days and he chuckled at the memory of his near constant speed walking. He laughed a while longer before his facial features turned flat. He would have to find his friends, and find a second.
Grif looked at Silver Spear and Black Rook from across the table. In front of him a parchment lay weighted down on its corners by inkwells. He gazed on the general sketch of the palace layout. “Gentlecolts,” Grif nodded to the unicorn and earth pony. “As Lord Hammer Strike, Commander Pensword, and Lunar Fang are still in Canterlot, we three are the current administrative heads within New Unity. That being said, I think it’s time to discuss where to start our rebuilding process.” Grif traced his talons over the sides of the gate. “Rook, I want you to get to work on the turrets and the insides of the walls. I want to be able to have our defenses planted within the next two weeks. Do you think you can have some of the unicorns carve additional archer slots facing the inner courtyard as well as the outside?”
“Of Course,” Black Rook replied with a nod of his head. “I’ll get those going as quick as I can. Permission to pull at least two architects off their projects to work on this as well?”
“Sorry, let me clarify this,” Grif said. “We have four principal duties in this fortress for the foreseeable future.” He held up a talon with all four claws splayed outwards. “Night watch,” he withdrew the back claw. “Kitchen detail,” he withdrew his far right claw. “Restoration,” he withdrew the middle one. “And finally, supply.” He closed his fist. “Until you are told otherwise, you have authority to pull any necessary resources to accomplish these tasks. Is that clear?”
Black Rook nodded, maintaining silence as Silver Spear moved to speak.
“Crystal clear, sir. I can begin work on restoring the kitchens immediately. I’ll ask Mrs. Cake for some expert advice. She’d know her way around a kitchen.”
“Actually, Silver Spear, I want you to take a copy of our old maps and as many troops as you need and begin marking salvageable areas from Old Unity. The flags will be marked for what they are to represent. It isn’t likely we will be capable of containing everything within the fortress and I would like to know which, if any, of the former best areas survived,” Grif said. “We have the necessary facilities to feed ourselves currently and fixing the kitchen would, at this time, be a frivolous use of resources.” He looked at the map. “Silver Spear, while the Gryphon Slayers hold more experience, Matthew’s troops know you better. Until Pensword’s return you’re going to need to be on top of keeping peace between both sides. Are you up too this task or should I assign you some help?”
Silver Spear paused a moment, considering. “I … I think I can manage it, sir. If I need help, I’ll ask the troops first. If we can’t settle things together, we’ll fall back and return and report.”
“The next thing is, while you each are handling these tasks, I want you to pick lesser officers within your groups and amongst the Hot Coals. Sort them into squads of three, five and seven. Then set a rotation for them. Every morning, seven go to archery practice. The rest will stay and work. Every afternoon five will perform basic drill maneuvers while the rest work, and every evening three will stand wall guard to the north, three to the south, three to the west, and three to the east. Keep an eye on their condition. Anyone who looks overly tired, sick, or injured should be dismissed to rest immediately. I don’t want any major accidents until Pensword and Hammer Strike return. Preferably none at all. Every Saturday we will take stock of our inventory to resupply. Am I clear, gentlecolts?”
“Yes sir!” The two shouted in unison.
“Now, do you have any concerns before we end this meeting?” Grif asked.
“I recall that Matthew, err, Pensword mentioned that Gryphons use these ruins as a rest stop. What are we to do if we encounter any incoming Gryphons? Other than getting the Gryphon Slayers under cover, I mean.” He appeared to be very serious about hiding the Gryphon Slayers. And for obvious reasons. “Also, what do you want us to have them do at the moment? Or do you have orders just for them?” Black Rook asked Grif.
“If gryphons are sighted, you are to come and alert me. Don’t let it seem like you're on alert. Get some archers in the hidden hollows and have them ready to fire on my signal. We don’t spill blood if we don’t need to, but we aren’t stupid either. As for the gryphon slayers, they will hopefully be coming to meet with me when you leave. I don’t intend to step on Pensword’s toes if i can avoid it and if his men do not wish to listen too me, then I will place them off duty until his return.”
“Uh, Pensword doesn’t have toes.” Black replied. “Horse shoes might be a better phrase. Sir.” he added at the end. “I know Matthew has toes.” The Earth Pony shook his head. “Very well, I shall begin on the tasks at hoof.” He waited to be dismissed.
Grif looked to Silver Spear. “Anything you need to know, Spear?”
“No, sir. Black Rook and I should be able to manage well. Is there anything else you need from us, sir?”
“Just keep safe, boys. We have a lot of work ahead of us and we're likely to need you two more then ever.” He saluted with his right fist to his left shoulder. “Dismissed.”
The two saluted, turned, and left the room, leaving Grif alone for a brief moment before his ears picked up the sound of the Gryphon Slayers marching to meet him. Well, to put it accurately, the sounds of only one set of hooves. He only needed to meet with the second in command to relay the orders.
“Fox Feather. Welcome,” Grif nodded to the pony.
The Pegasus mare with the coloration of a fox nodded her head. “Grif,” She muttered. “You wish to speak to me on behalf of Lord Hammer Strike?” She frowned. “I guess we are temporarily under his house till the Equestrian Army is reinstated. Seeing as we are really all that remains of soldiers in this time period.”
“I asked you here because I can’t tell you when Pensword will be returning to Unity, but it could be some time yet. I need to know if the Gryphon Slayers stand with me looking after things here.” Grif said casually.
“We trust thee and your female companion as the only trustworthy Gryphons. We also know as a group that thou art favored by Lord Hammer Strike and trained his forces of Mercenaries. For the time being, thou hast the cooperation of the Gryphon Slayers.”
“And would you be against being split up to help with training the troops? Your skills are invaluable and we have reports of gryphon mercenaries that may be making their way through the area. As I’m sure you remember, well trained archers are the best preemptive measure against gryphons.”
“The last thing Commander Pensword did was field promote us to lieutenants for that purpose. We are not opposed to be splitting up for training the plebs. However, should we come under attack we shall be forming up again and fight as a unit.” she told him, her voice hard. “We will not negotiate on that point.”
“I would not ask any different save that for the sake of the times we try diplomacy before battle is joined. Politics and laws are somewhat different now. And I would not have unnecessary blood on my talons.”
“Very well. However, if they attack and kill any of the ponies in this camp, we shall meet them on the field of battle and show why the Gryphon Slayers were feared by the end of the war.” She replied unblinking as she stared Grif down.
“Now, if I may ask. Aside from Pensword and Lord Hammer Strike’s opinions, how do you see me?” Grif asked. “And don’t lie. I have sensed latent hostility from you before, this meeting just being the latest occasion.”
“How do I see thee?” She asked. “A friend of the Commander’s, as well as the face of an enemy that we fought. I see your face and I cannot help but have flashbacks to the war: to the towns we ran across, the camps, ... what we found inside them.” She shivered before narrowing her eyes. “I know the Gryphons have changed. However, it is hard for us to change. Equestria seems to have forgotten the third war except for dusty history and tall tales.” She frowned. “But thou alone, I see as a friend and a Gryphon I want on our side, never to face against.” She paused. “You want full honesty?” Grif nodded in return. “I see thee as a rival; a means to show that ponies could fight as hard as Gryphons, and as a female, of that time,” She hesitated as if saying that unnerved her. “That I could outwit and ‘outfox,’ as the Commander said, any of my opponents.”
“Very well.” Grif nodded. “Should the gryphon lawyers have any major concerns with how things go from here, or any problems, please don’t be afraid to hunt me down. And remember the war. Keep remembering it. These troops, I fear, may be in this more for glory than for merely defending their homeland. They need to be reminded time and time again that war is hell: a hell we can only hope they will never need to face outright.”
“Do not worry there. I do not think any of us will forget in our lifetimes what happened. We shall not let these plebs forget either.” She gave a salute with her wing. “Anything else?”
“Give them Tartarus, acting major Fox Feather.” Grif gave her his own salute.
“Oh, I plan on it. It was Tartarus when I was a cadet. I think it is time to show them some of the training. We are planning some Physical Training regimens, as well as a weapons training course. And that is only the start.” She finished with a grin and a manic glint in her eyes. Grif couldn’t help but smirk.
“Dismissed.” He nodded to her as he got to his feet. “And thank you for your honesty.” He pushed a packet of papers to her.
“You are welcome, sir.” She replied as she turned around and left with the packet containing where the Gryphon Slayers would be split up. She looked at the documents and pondered as she walked away. Just what would come of this camp?
“Lets see: two quivers of arrows, a bow each, knives, throwing blades, cord for snares, a tent, some blankets, and two canteens of water.” Grif looked over the equipment. It had been two relatively peaceful days since his talk with the lieutenants and the gryphon slayers and progress was being made all around. It was at this time he had decided that he and shrial could afford to go out hunting for a day. As such, the two were preparing for their trek. “Anything I’m missing?” he looked to the gryphoness.
“Rations? I know how much you love to eat, and we might run into trouble while trying to hunt.” Shrial laughed and gave her betrothed a loving kiss on the cheek, her new signet ring gleaming in the noon day light.
“I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” He laughed. “We’ll need to stop by the larders on the way out. Now that everything’s in place, we risk falling into the zone of random chance,” he said.
“And since when weren’t we there?” Shrial asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Since-” Grif was cut off by a frantic knocking at his door. “And so it happens. Enter!” he bid the pony. A recruit nearly stumbled through the doorway as he dashed towards them.
“Sir! Lieutenant Rook sent me as soon as he got the news. We’ve spotted gryphons in the distance making a beeline for the fortress,” the cadet said, panting from his run. His eyes flickered with fear.
Grif looked to Shrial. “Well, looks like it’s business now.” He sighed. “Can you get a perch on one of the towers? Keep an arrow trained on the gryphon on point?”
“Already on it.” Shrial took her gryphon bow and quiver harness, swiftly donning them with a fluid grace before she leaped out a window and took to the air, slowly climbing as she flapped her now much stronger wings.
Grif watched her go and sighed in relief. The ploy had worked. At least from there, she would be a less likely target. He turned to the cadet then. “You go to Rook. Tell him to give a third of the troops bows and hide them from sight. Place a token guard on the walls and have everyone else outfitted and in the courtyard, I’ll be out in fifteen minutes and Tartarus will follow me if anypony isn’t fully ready. You understand?”
The pony nodded and gulped before dashing out the door. Grif turned to a different door, opening it to reveal a spiral staircase which he climbed to the next room. Inside several old pony mannequins stood decked in ill-fitting armor next to a weapons rack. “Now let’s see. How to present myself…?” he murmured, looking the armor over.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, Grif stepped out into the courtyard dressed in his fine white robe with the red inner lining and leather covering his chest area. The hooked beak of his hood hung down to nearly touch the tip of his actual beak making his face harder to read.
“Remember, gentlecolts, we do not fire until I give the signal. These are gryphon mercenaries. Many could likely fight before they could speak. Surprise is our ally, and diplomacy is our friend. If this day can end with no blood spilt, I would prefer it. Is that understood?” he asked, looking across the assorted ponies.
“Sir!” came the unanimous response. Grif looked upwards, scanning the towers for Shrial.
She gave a bird call, chirping like a robin from the roof and sending a brief signal using the glint of her ring to let Grif know she was in position.
“Open the gate. If any try to fly over, fire a warning shot. Only a warning shot,” Grif said. Ten minutes later the flapping of wings could be heard in the distance, growing in volume and consistency until a loud thump sounded in the forest outside the gate. From the shadow of the trees a large grey gryphoness with white speckles across her feathers emerged.
She stood nearly as tall as Grif was and carried two hand axes, one sheathed on either side. Her fur was criss crossed with scars from past fights and one large ugly crack spiraled down her beak. Behind her, more gryphons landed. They varied in size and coloring. Each had an old, worn-looking weapon of their own strapped for easy access. All bore the marks of battle and hardship. Some looked ancient, some were very faint, and others had been inflicted with wounds so recent that they were still bleeding.
Unkempt, in pain, but still proud as ever, the gryphons had come to Unity.
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I wonder if they're going to join his new clan? because that's what I'm feeling right now, and why do I think that Hammer is gonna time travel again?
When the story reaches a quiet point, split the party so that evil forces decide to throw down and party with teh smaller groups?
I still cant get a handle on bluebloods father, which I suspect is just what he wants. He is a real Stephen Fry class of machinations.
Is the one from the historical section this stories version of Daring Do, AJYearling at all? or the stories based off what with teh dissapearing all over the world?
Are you going to use the extended S5 map, given it shows Griffons,Dragons, and Zebrica, I cant remember if you started off using your own or one of the more detailed fan maps before the main canon map was released. Sorry.
Hammerstrike is Still breaking anvils? Its not hardness he needs then, given the diamond surface, its strength and toughness. Lets start with Limpet Teeth and work up through Rhodonite, to Metallic Hydrogen with a humble offer from the High Energy Magic building for trialing out their new Degenerate Shields for containing extreme runaway spells?
A Castle Kitchen is a very dangerous place to be. full of equipment designed to quickly and efficintly process living matter, into matter to feed other living matter. With specialists dedicated to applying implements and forces to the precice points on a body to go through its weaknesses and dismember and render it. Then theres boiling water, boiling oil, fire, salt, pepper.
And flour.
New bunch of Griffins arrive in Unity? And Grif is there, to welcome them to The Brotherhood. And is being a right Farquaad about it as well.
5662312 should grif take that as a compliment or an insult? he's been through too much war as it is and he just wants to attempt to settle things without uneccesary bloodshed. is that wrong?
5662383
Well, he is wearing his Assasins Creed robe, which to a classic fighter looks nothing like armour, but is conceling, so therefore less of an in your face threat, and more of an intelligence threat. the other part, is because he mentioned the hidden unicorn archers being able to fire Into the courtyard. Lord Farquaad style, Shrek. A remarkably rare instance of intelligent evil.
5662852 actualy that tactic was used alot in history, medeval europe, the crusades, the greeks, i was just going off that. approach with good intent but from a position of strength.
he wants to be dangerous, just not outrightly hostile.
If Grif and Taze merged, what about Matt and Pensword?
5663257
I always took it more akin to one who has amnesia, they do not remember so they build a new life.
Now they remember their past life, and have to work on working those memories into their life.
So for Pensword/Matt There was no real split. Just a continuation of self, just with a lot of memories and tactics. If that makes any sense.
5664165 Thanks!
5664172
Your welcome. I hope it explains how the two act.
Dude it feels like I'm reading a situation in a game of CK2!
You must play how many hours you got?
5668181
wow, did not realize that it feels like that.
How does it feel like it is a situation from CK2?
5669503
In all honesty, it's because of all the talk about barons, dukes, and counts; aswell as all the vassals under equestria having there own army. I just can't help but think that I'm ready about a game of CK2!
5662066
Wait and see, my friend. Wait and see.
5683969
Yeah, we do that. We like to try and make it realistic in that the humans try and do things that might make sense.
A musical piece for the legendary smith.
6382719
Oh, I totally agree with you there.
This song fits amazingly for Hammer Strike. I am going to share this with the other writers tonight. It is amazing. Thank you for this gem.
To my eyes, it appears you are enjoying the read. I look forward to what you think in the coming chapters you have yet to read.
Is this more time travel I see?