63 - Survival
Extended Holiday
Ch 63: Survival
Act 8
The door to the forge slammed open as Shawn rushed in. Thankfully, one of his tables was mostly clear with only a few swords on it, which he promptly shoved onto the floor with his free hand. They clattered angrily, but Shawn didn’t care. This was far more important than a few old projects. He put Trixie down carefully as he looked around the room for the materials he’d need.
The forge door burst open as Vital came galloping through, Twilight and Clover in tow. “We’re here,” he said breathlessly. “What do you need us to do?”
“I need you here on standby in case this goes horribly wrong,” Shawn replied as he held his hand up, his eyes bursting into blue fire as a yellow crystal formed in his grip.
Clover leaned over to Twilight. “What happened to Lord Hammer Strike? What is this creature?” She asked in hushed tones.
“That is Hammer Strike,” Twilight replied.
“That is not Hammer Strike,” Clover responded flatly with a look of disdain.
Shawn’s hand suddenly burst into fire while his other was held over it, a red crystal forming in its grasp.
“... Nevermind,” she said.
After a few short seconds Shawn had made a blue crystal to compliment the red. He then paused as he looked around, his eyes settling on Vital. “Sorry to do this, pal, but you’re going to feel just a little jolt,” he warned him as he held his hand out towards the white unicorn. After a brief pulling motion, he placed a white crystal amongst the others. Vital Spark shuddered.
“Don’t know if I’d call that a jolt, but I sure as heck felt it.”
“Good. Now on to the harder part,” Shawn said as he wiped the blood from his nose.
“Are you really going to do this? Fate might take a liking to you, but --” Death spoke up behind Shawn. Before he could finish, Shawn had turned one eighty, bringing his fist up as he hit Death with enough force to launch him into the ceiling with a crash before falling back to the ground.
Shawn pointed towards Death, a glare on his face. “You will not interrupt me, and you sure as hell won’t stop me.”
Death just teetered left and right, his skull askew.
“Yep,” Clover responded with a nod. “That is definitely Hammer Strike.”
Twilight was looking at the ceiling where something had impacted, but even as she searched the room, for the life of her she couldn’t tell what had just transpired. “What-?”
Shawn spat blood off to the right of the table out of the everyone’s way. It steamed in the air and boiled on the ground.
Twilight flared her wings. “You have to stop!” Her horn began to glow until she felt a restraining hoof on her shoulder. Clover stood behind her, shaking her head gently.
“He is fine, Princess,” Clover said softly. “I have seen worse.”
Shawn put his hands over Trixie, igniting them as he began the next phase of his “treatment.” A sickly green mist began to exit her body and collected in his hands. Clover shuddered at the sight, rubbing her left fore hoof over her right nervously as a foul stench filled the air.
After a few moments the mist stopped seeping from Trixie’s body and collected in his hands. Bringing them together, the mist began to solidify itself into a pulsing green crystal. He didn’t catch it as it fell to the table. Instead, he fell off to the side, slamming his arm onto the table to stabilize himself as he leaned off to the right once again, this time vomiting his boiling blood.
Surrounded in her own aura, Clover patted Shawn’s back with a hoof. “There there, let it all out,” she offered.
Twilight’s eye twitched at the sight. “That’s his blood!”
“Twilight,” Vital said, looking paler than normal. “Can you conjure a towel? It helps to have something under the mouth to catch all the extra and wipe it up.”
Twilight concentrated bringing several towels into the room.
After a few moments Shawn stood up once again as he grabbed the crystals on the table. After taking a few deep breaths the crystals began to shrink and collect into a new form: a red crystal that he held in his left hand.
“I--need to finish soon,” Shawn coughed out. “Using it this long feels like it’s ripping out my insides.”
Twilight looked nervously, only to have Clover shake her head. “Even you know not to mix magic, and not to interrupt the caster mid-cast. I know the urge to help is strong, but you must let it flow naturally.”
The dark red crystal in Shawn’s hands began to shrink as jolts of electricity jumped from his fingers.
Twilight looked on nervously, her lips twitching while her wing tips fluffed from the field around them. Clover caught a few words as she looked at the Alicorn. “What are you saying?”
“Pi,” Twilight responded, returning to reciting the number.
Clover looked at Twilight oddly, but if it kept her calm, good for her.
“Now here comes the fun part,” Shawn said in a rough tone as the crystal fully vanished. The electricity jumping from his fingers now surrounded his right hand as he brought it over Trixie. “Clear!” He yelled as he brought his hand to her chest.
The Body shook and jolted from the shock, then settled down just as quickly. Twilight and Vital could see nothing, but to Shawn and Clover, they watched as Death looked at his list and groaned. “You did it ... you actually did it.” He growled. “You took her from my list! Are you happy now? This could be disastrous, you know.”
“I’m sorry to say, Death, but your list isn’t the final word anymore,” Shawn growled in return. “Not while I’m around.” Twilight’s left eye twitched at the words, but she couldn’t bring herself to contradict that sentence. Clover quickly moved up and looked to Shawn.
“Do you need assistance, Hammer?” she asked as Vital approached the table where Trixie lay, looking down as the mare suddenly gasped and began to take deep breaths before settling back onto the surface: unconscious, but most definitely alive.
Shawn gave a small grin as he looked to Clover. “Hah,” he said before falling to the ground, groaning lightly. “Yeah, that’d be appreciated.” He looked over to her once again. “A small note as well, this version of me came first. The name’s Shawn. Nice to meet you again.”
“Nice to meet you…. again?” Clover said as she offered her body for support.
“If you’re hoping for me to stand up, I can’t really feel my arms or legs at the moment. As for the again, you never saw me like this.”
“But I’ve known Hammer Strike off and on considerably throughout history,” she said. “I’m going to lift you in my magic, okay?”
Shawn chuckled. “As said, the only ones who know I’m Hammer Strike in New Unity are the ones in this room, and Tower and Blast Shield as well,” he listed. “Other than that, everyone thinks I am two individuals: Hammer Strike and Shawn. Also, good luck. Thankfully, I don’t think my magic can fight you at the moment.”
“Oh, I’m fairly certain I’m prepared,” Clover said with a smirk as her magic surrounded him momentarily and suddenly the feeling of falling hit him as he found himself rising upwards on a solid platform of magic. “Gravity spells save so much potential strain,” she said as she towed the hardened magic behind her. Shawn pressed experimentally against the underside.
Twilight looked at the situation. “Why didn’t the Princesses think like that?” She wondered.
Clover looked around the room and, upon spotting her goal, began to trot towards a cot. “You are staying here,” she said in a no-nonsense tone. “I will remain as well and watch over Death till you are able to get to your hooves.”
“I’ll see about getting Little Willow and some muscle down here to help transport Trixie,” Vital said. “After that, you and I are going to need to have a long talk, Clover.”
“... No fair,” Death whined as Vital left.
The early morning birds gave out their joyful songs in the misty morning air. To Grif, it seemed almost like a sign for what was to come. The front of the Farflyer compound had been quickly, if simply, decorated with flowers and banners. A silver and blue carpet had been laid out down a long asle. Underneath the foot of a large scarlet oak, a small archway had been set up. The yard was full with Gryphons and Gryphonesses in armor standing at attention in preparation for what was to come. The Bladefeathers stood in full battle armor with weapons ready. The tents had been taken down and wrapped in carts. The journey had already been delayed for too long, and after the ceremony the escort would be moving again. Crystal Ponies stood curiously behind them, eager to see the marriage rituals to come, for none of their kind had truly been able to witness them firsthand save for their royals.
Grif stood by the arch in the same dress armor he had worn when he married Shrial. It had been shined and oiled to gleam in the morning light. Behind him stood Pensword, Kel’leam, and Bellacosa, each in their own dress armor. Grif took a few deep breaths as he waited for the procession to begin.
“Never thought I’d be back here when we left Equestria,” he told Pensword quietly.
“Strange things are happening,” Pensword muttered. “Still, at least you are able to find happiness and save a life here.”
A low, deep boom thundered over the gathering, instilling sudden silence. It began again, slowly and steadily as they drew closer and closer together until it held at a steady One-two One-two staccato. Shortly after, a great fanfare of trumpets and war horns sounded as one gryphon immediately followed the fanfaire by playing the piercing sound of a set of bagpipes, his ceremonial garb the traditional wear of a Scotsman tailored to suit a Gryphon. After a stanza had passed, two more pipers joined, and then three more as each stepped up to join him in a stirring battle hymn. They marched slowly forward along the aisle until they reached the middle, at which point they parted to either side to reveal Avalon in all her stunning beauty.
She had no armor to bear in all the rush, so instead, a white veil studded with a garland of flowers lay over her face while a beautiful, flowing white silk dress embroidered with ancient runes shimmered with gold outlining as she walked slowly down the aisle with her father beaming at her side. The sharktooth necklace Grif had given her hung proudly around her neck as they continued to walk in time to the music. Her dress, while simple and hastily put together, seemed to radiate as they walked in the dawn’s early light. Sitting in the crowd, a few of her sisters glared while others sniffled and smiled next to their mates. Her mother cried openly as she looked on with pride. As they drew closer, the guards pulled their swords out in a military salute until the pair finally arrived at the altar where the amethyst sat waiting on its pillow before the Gryphon elder. Garrus smiled fondly as he released his daughter’s arm and took his place by the dais.
Grif offered his talon to her, smiling with pride. Avalon took it, but instead of her once shy demeanor, he saw a sparkling mischief behind the veil, and an insatiable curiosity that reminded him very much of himself. Most of all though, was the love and the fear that always came with marriage, and as she fixed him with her gaze, he barely restrained a shudder of pure ecstasy.
“The first day of forever.” Grif smiled. “Nervous?”
“Should I be?” She countered, then laughed.
“You’re marrying one of the most hated Gryphons in known history,” he reminded her.
“And that should worry me when I already have a target on my back?” she asked, bemusedly raising a brow. “Forbidden knowledge, remember?”
“As always, you make an excellent point.” He grinned. “Life will be interesting for the both of us.” With that, he turned forward.
Avalon leaned in to face him and briefly whispered in his ear. “Just a warning, I hear the old priest is a little … odd,” she said with a veiled smile.
A very elderly Gryphon stalked his way to the archway before them. He had a lion body, but the front and wings of a great grey owl. His head was large and rounded with weary-looking, small, piercing yellow eyes. His body was covered in wrinkles which were visible under his feathers, giving him a somewhat comical appearance. A large, baggy white robe with a series of green swirling parallel lines representing winds glinted in the sun with the golden trimming on the sleeves and hem. He seemed almost to sag within it, even as he gazed blearily upon the soon-to-be-wed couple. He smiled especially warmly to Grif and bowed to the young lady out of respect. He looked over the crowd, and then, in a loud, whiny voice, he spoke.
“Mawwiage! Mawwiage is what bwings us togethahhhhh to-day.”
Grif tore holes in the ground beneath him as he clenched his talons tightly to keep himself from laughing.
“Mawwiage, dat … bwessed awangement,” the priest said with a lilt. “DAT DWEAM! Wit-iiin a dweam!” A sudden fervor had taken over the elderly Gryphon’s voice, even as his eyes shone with joy.
Cosy stood by Pensword’s side chuckling and threatening to break into a full out laugh. Pensword quickly laid a wing on Cosy’s muzzle, which caused Cosy to bite down while Pensword was simultaneously trying to bite down on his own wing. In his head, Matthew was firing off one liners from a movie he had completely forgotten about till that very moment, which was confusing Pensword to no end. Still, the two did their best not to interrupt the ceremony.
“... When wuv … twue wove, will follow you fowevah--” Garrus cleared his throat, interrupting. In a tremendous show of will and self mastery, his face was perfectly straight.
“With all due respect, your holiness, these two are on a tight schedule in their escort. Do you think we could skip to the end, please?” The elderly gryphon looked slightly hurt and sighed heavily.
“Vewwy well. Have you the gifts?”
Grif cleared his throat into his arm. The casual observer may have claimed he was chuckling, but Grif would forever claim he was merely clearing his throat.
“Avalon, when we first met, I will admit I was instantly drawn to you. You are beautiful inside and out, and that is a rare trait for anyone. But more than anything, I’ve noticed your thirst for knowledge, your need to learn, and the desire to use it for the betterment of those you hold dear. I am a warrior, obviously, and it is commonly taken that warriors do not care for great learning. But I personally believe the words of a wise philosopher, who once claimed ‘the nation that insists on drawing a broad line of demarcation between the fighting man and the thinking man is liable to find its fighting done by fools and its thinking done by cowards.’
“I, myself, care for great learning and seek often to expand my own knowledge. It is to this end that I have amassed a great store of ancient knowledge and research inside the libraries of the Fortress Elaine back in Equestria.” Grif produced a large parchment scroll and held it to her. “This deed was handed to me by Princess Luna when the war ended. It proclaims the fortress as mine by right of conquest. I hereby surrender my fortress to you and all the treasures within save for the tomb that lies beneath it, for that belongs to the dead. It holds not a quarter of the value that I hold for you, but it is all I can offer to show my love.”
Avalon blushed beneath her veil. Thankfully, nobody could see it. “Thank you, Grif. In truth, I never thought that a girl like me could ever be so lucky to meet, let alone marry, a warrior like you. You showed me a kindness and intelligence that extended far beyond the norm. And if I am not mistaken by the town gossip, you get along very well with children.” A small titter of laughter came from the gathering. “I’m afraid I haven’t the greatest of gifts to give due to the sudden nature of our union, but I hope that this will be able to hold you over until I have the time to make you something proper.” She turned to her father, who carefully unclasped the belt from around his waist, the jewel glinting blue as he handed it to his daughter before she presented it Grif.
Grif accepted the belt with a bow. “You do me great honor. I will strive to prove myself worthy of it.”
“Gwif Gwafson, son of Gwaf, do you take Avawon Fawfwyer, daughter of Gawwus Wyan Ineschtad Fwightfighter Fawfwyer, to be youw wawfuwwy wedded wife?” The old priest lisped.
“I do.” Grif smiled, staring into Avalon’s eyes. The old priest smiled and turned to her.
“And do you, Avawon Fawfwyer, daughter of Gawwus Wyan Ineschtad Fwightfighter Fawfwyer, take Gwif Gwafson, son of Gwaf to be your wawfuwy wedded husband?”
“I do,” she said, refusing to break the gaze.
“Then befowe we commence with the cewemony, if thewe be any Gwyphon with objection to why these two should be joined, speak now, ow fowevah hold youw peace.” The room was silent. With surprisingly steady arms, he lifted the pillow on which the amethyst lay. “Then wet the binding of bwood commence.”
Avalon drew a dagger from within the folds of her dress, ornate and encrusted with gems at the hilt as she flicked it over her talon without so much as a flinch. She watched the blood pool before she proceeded to place it over the channel and watched as her own blood mixed with that of Grif and his first wife, Shrial. When she had filled enough, she removed her finger and returned the stone to the pillow where its heart seemed almost to glow with the new addition of blood.
“By the powwah vested in me by the fouw winds and the Winds Fathew, I now pwonounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bwide!” He smiled as the two slowly approached one another and Grif removed the veil over Avalon’s face to reveal her own radiant smile.
Grif reached an arm around her and pulled her into a dip as he pressed his beak to hers. His face was hidden from both crowd and the priest and his body shook a bit as he chuckled into the kiss. He broke it moments later, but took an extra second to collect himself before they returned to upright stature.
“Just a little longer,” Avalon whispered to him as they faced the crowd. A chorus of cheers erupted with a mighty roar as rice and streamers were thrown and the bagpipes picked up yet again.
Grif lifted Avalon into his arms and made a show of flying up into the sky. Once he was sure they were high enough, he let loose, practically spewing out all the stored laughter.
On the ground, Pensword quickly ushered Cosy back to the tents where the two of them began to laugh. When they were asked, Pensword covered, claiming they’d just been told an extremely funny joke, which, in a sense, was true.
“So, about that library...” Avalon said.
“Oh, you mean the one filled with all the knowledge of the invokers from a thousand years ago?” Grif asked as they flew.
Avalon screeched to a halt mid-flight, and then, in an action that was extremely out of character for a Gryphoness of such high birth, her eyes widened and she squealed as she embraced her new husband, smothering him with kisses. Grif smirked.
“I should do this more often.”
Trixie was very surprised as the world began to come into focus for her. Lifting her heavy eyelids, she scanned the room around her. “What happened? Is Trixie dead?”
“Not dead,” Shawn responded from his chair further in the room.
Trixie found herself suddenly embraced by a set of white forelegs. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” Vital Spark said. “If it weren’t for Hammer Strike and Shawn, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”
“Trixie is confused,” Trixie said as she rubbed her head.
“Lord Shawn used his magic to remove the poison you took into yourself. Then he and Hammer Strike worked together to bring you back. It was a close call, but it worked.” Vital smiled. “But seriously, next time you’re going to try something like that, I might just have to whoop your sorry butt.” Then he chuckled as he backed off her bed.
“Trixie would like to see you try,” she laughed a bit hoarsely.
“You never know, might find yourself surprised by what he can do,” a voice said to her right. When she looked, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she began to tremble. “Heya,” Death said casually.
“Stop it, Death, you can be casual while she gets used to being able to see you,” Shawn said. “Until then, don’t you have a job to do?”
“... I’ll get you one day, Shawn, mark my words,” Death said hollowly as he pointed dramatically with his bony hoof while a parchment layer of skin and fur began to grow over him and his face. Glowing red eyes replaced the empty holes in his sockets as he turned to face Vital. “Besides, Fate has some interesting plans in store for your friends,” he said, smirking.
“Death, get lost. You’re spoiling the future,” Shawn frowned. “Don’t make me come over there.”
Death grumbled angrily as he turned and walked towards the wall, muttering several curses as he dissolved through it.
“... And yet another conversation I missed. How often does Death hang around you anyways, Shawn?” Vital asked casually as he raised up an herbal remedy for Trixie to drink.
“He hangs around quite a lot now that I can see him and I’m one of the rare individuals who can not only survive his touch, but can also interact back in general,” Shawn explained before he gave a small smirk. “To be honest, I have nothing against him, he just gets bored, sometimes, though it’s a little out of place.”
“Like trying to scare Trixie to death?” Vital asked.
“Will Trixie have to be seeing him again?” she asked.
“Since you died, you can see him now. He’ll leave you alone if you really don’t feel like seeing him, but you’re going to see him around here often since, in his off time, he likes to chat… for hours,” Shawn responded.
“Oh.” Trixie wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Don’t worry about it. If he does something you don’t like, you can threaten him with my name. I’ve already knocked his skull off a few times. Almost did when he tried to stop me from saving you,” Shawn calmly told her.
“You assaulted Death?” she asked.
“Quite often, it seems.”
“Drink that up, Trixie, and stop delaying. LIttle Willow said it’d help you with your recovery,” Vital insisted as he hit her with a serious look. “I’m not about to let Shawn’s work go to waste.”
Trixie did as she was bidden, wincing at the taste as she swallowed it down.
Vital smiled. “Atta girl. Once you’re up to snuff, a certain Unicorn from the past wants a word with you. Something about magic lessons, I think?” he said mischievously as he smiled and winked.
“Clover the Clever wants to teach Trixie?” Trixie’s eyes widened.
“And me. We’ll be classmates. Apparently, she’s going to give Twilight a few pointers, too.”
“Trixie will be in the same class as Twilight Sparkle?” The Unicorn’s demeanor changed from excited to nervous instantly.
“From what I understand, most of what Twilight will be learning has to do with combat magic using her new focus and staff. You and I will be focusing more on the actual magic arts and how to use them and apply them while maintaining greater control so we don’t repeat certain … mistakes.” Conor sighed heavily as he remembered the changeling corpse and what he’d done to make it that way.
“Trixie looks forward to working with you, Vital Spark.” She bowed her head. “Together we will find our place.”
“Hopefully we’ll have something perfect for you guys,” Shawn said as he stood up from his chair, cracking his back in the process. “There aren’t a lot of Unicorns around here, and the primary ones here are battlemages, but there are other things that need to be done.”
Quite suddenly, Trixie got to her hooves and rushed over, proceeding to hug Shawn without warning. “Thank you, Lord Shawn. Trixie won’t waste this second chance.”
After a second, Shawn wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sure you won’t.” He gave her a grin. “I have to get going; need more fluids in me after all that happened.”
“And you, missy, need to get yourself back in that bed,” Vital said as he walked over to Trixie.
“Very well,” Trixie said letting go of Shawn and moving back to the waiting sheets.
Shawn gave a sigh. “Welp, off to sign documents, fix damaged sets of weapons and armor, and to make more weapons and armor to replace the fully lost sets…” Shawn sighed again. “Or take a break…?” He shook his head. “ ...I shouldn’t.”
Pensword looked to his left. They were marching on the main road. On either side of them a thick, old-growth forest with what only could be described as hedgerows helped put him on edge. His eyes darted nervously. He felt like they could be attacked at any moment. As a precaution, he was fully armored and his wing blades were oiled and ready to use if needed, but that still didn’t help the unease. He slowed his breathing again. Cosy walked at his side, mimicking his every movement.
“We’re still on Farflyer lands,” Grif assured his friend. “We’re safe enough. The scouts will spot anything coming.” Grif looked down, smiling at Bellacosa. “Are you holding up okay? We’ve been marching for a while.”
“I’m fine, Grif, don’t worry.” Cosy smiled. “The last few weeks walking has helped me get used to long distances.”
Pensword nodded and relaxed. “Sorry, just, a little--this is a place that, as a historian, reminds me of another location from the Human’s stories. Then there is the fact I am having my hooves touch land that I did not feel I would never see.” He looked to Grif. “Even if you walk at my side, you are protected by those blades. There will be times in the future where I may be someplace, you another, and Cosy in a third location. I stay vigilant because…” He looked at the two others, deciding to change his wording at the last second. “I want to return to Lunar Fang and keep her from leading an Army here to avenge me.”
“If you can’t relax then there will be no point in hiding Bellacosa’s identity,” Grif whispered under his breath. “Any Gryphon will be able to read your tension like a proclamation.”
Pensword’s left ear flicked, picking up on Grif’s comment. He took another breath in and let it out as he mentally stepped away from his stance. He grimaced. “I have to remember a Thousand years have passed. I am a fairy tale, a legend that no Gryphons know anymore,” he muttered. “I am just a guard, just a guard.” He repeated to himself as he spent some time keeping silent before turning to Cosy. “So, what would you like to do when you reach the Capital?”
“What I’m supposed to do. I’m here as a delegate for the Crystal Empire. That means I need to meet Daedalus and try to re-establish good relations.” The kindness and carefree attitude had dropped away as a more serious look took its place. “I’m not gonna let anyone else hurt my home.”
“It will take a few days before we get an audience,” Grif told them. “So best to have some other plans as well.”
Pensword looked to Grif. “Imperial War Museum?” he asked.
“If you’d like.”
“Maybe see some art or practice some more?” Cosy asked, not sure what could be done in the Empire without causing offense.
“Weapon practice is a good idea.” Grif smiled. “Perhaps we’ll see about getting a knife custom made for you.”
“That sounds nice. But do ya think we could practice with the sword, too? I need to keep up what Uncle Shiney taught me.”
“If you think you can keep up,” Grif told him. “Though pensword may be the better opponent for you.”
“Why not learn a little from both?” Cosy asked.
“Best to start easy,” Grif said. “I’ve taught a few other people to sword fight and I’d rather not leave you too bruised up before your audience.”
Pensword nodded sagely. “I think you should build up. I did not start out as Commander born with medals on my chest. Maybe on our way home, you can train with Grif. But first, maybe some lessons from ‘The Demon?’” he asked with a chuckle.
Cosy pouted. “I guess I can live with that for a while.”
“Good. Next break, you and I will work on some sword play and hoof work,” Pensword said, switching from his friendly tone to that of a teacher and soldier.
“It’s a practice weapon, Twilight, it’s not meant to be perfect.” Hammer Strike sighed, rubbing a hoof on his head. The weapon in question was a long pole only slightly shorter than a quarterstaff with a stiletto sticking out the end. It was neither expressive nor particularly well crafted, but it would serve it’s purpose in this fight. He casually flicked it around, getting a sense for its weight and heft before performing a series of complicated moves to warm up and then settle back down again as he looked to Twilight.
“But … what if I hurt you?” Twilight asked, concerned.
“Twilight, if you hurt me, Celestia and Luna would be proud.”
Twilight shook her head. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I will try to learn what you have to teach me,” she said as she levitated her glaive-staff and held it in her hooves.
“Strike me.”
“Say what now?”
“Hit me,” Hammer repeated.
Twilight moved forward to strike, only for Hammer Strike to sidestep, Grab her forehoof with the flat of the blade, and knock it away, sending her to the ground.
“Lesson one. Don’t hold back.”
“But …” Twilight was starting to tear up.
“I know this’ll be hard for you, but if you want to protect your friends I want to know how far you can go.” Hammer frowned. “Or do you not want to defend them?”
Twilight took a deep breath and sighed. “Alright, but I still don’t like it.” She resumed her stance, then ran forward screaming as she braced for impact. Hammer did the same until suddenly her horn flared and she executed a downward stroke from above.
Hammer Strike slid back, bringing his glaive around until the two blades met before twirling his around and forcing the blade of Twilight’s glaive into the floor.
“Funny, Luna took three matches before she tried teleportation,” Hammer Strike shook his head. “Rule one: no magic until I say so. I want you to fight me without it. I don’t want you relying on it. If you try to use magic again, I’ll hold back a lot less,” he warned her.
Twilight gulped. “R-right,” she said, chuckling nervously. “Let’s try that one again.”
She raised her glaive and started charging.
Two hours later and things had progressed at a pretty much constant level. Twilight had managed to land all of two strikes in the dozen or so matches they’d had. She stood battered, bruised, covered in sweat, and utterly exhausted, the glaive being used more as a crutch than a weapon at this point.
“That’s enough for now,” Hammer Strike said.
Twilight collapsed on the ground, splayed out on all fours as she panted heavily, her glaive-staff clattering to the ground next to her. “I don’t know … how … you do this.”
“Years of practice and work, and by years, I mean approximately forty or so,” Hammer replied. “Remind me, how often do you exercise?”
Twilight chuckled nervously and blushed. “Uh … yeah, about that.”
“Ahem,” A familiar voice spoke up as their heads turned to see Rarity standing near the entrance of the sparring room, her rapier in her hoof as she swung it around carefully. Her mane was currently pulled back in a ponytail.
“Ah, Rarity, come to spar?” Hammer asked.
“Grif told me I should keep up my schedule with you while he’s away. I’d have hoped he’d mentioned it,” she said.
“As I stated a while back, I tend to be told things last minute, which is very odd.”
“Rarity?” Twilight sputtered.
“Ah, Twilight! It’s so good to see you decided to get some practical learning done. I must admit, I didn’t think much of weapons before Grif started teaching me swordplay, but it really makes a new mare out of you,” Rarity said. “How long have you been learning?”
“Um … two hours,” Twilight said, her ears drooping as she let out a weak laugh.
“Ah, well it takes time, dearie,” Rarity offered kindly. “When I started, Grif gave me a list of exercises that have helped me a great deal. Perhaps I could pass it along to you?”
Twilight perked up a little. “Thanks, Rarity, I’d really appreciate that.” She smiled and then wobbled to her legs. “Maybe it is time I performed a few more physical studies instead of mental ones. I have heard exercise helps your brain to build stronger neural pathways.”
“Alright, Twilight, while you are taking a breather, you can watch me and Rarity spar, which is bound to be interesting since I haven’t practiced with light weaponry for a while,” Hammer Strike said as he moved to change his weapons.
Twilight slowly plodded off the field and plopped onto a nearby bench as she levitated a scroll and pen to take intricate notes on the spar that was to come.
Grif was tailing behind the column, just him and Avalon for now. “I’m sorry we won’t have time for a honeymoon for awhile,” Grif offered as they walked.
“I don’t mind. This is more important anyways,” she said, smiling. “At least I get to spend this time with you before the meeting with Emperor Daedalus, right?”
“So then, I take it being the servant was how you got a more honest view of your father’s guests?”
“To an extent. The other part is it gave me more freedom to move around the compound. I like to be able to go where I wish. If a little subterfuge is necessary to accomplish that end, then so be it.”
“Well you’ll see a lot with me.” He smiled at her. “I find that life tends to take me places. Who knows? Next week we could end up in the Stampede Lands.” Grif chuckled. “Still, I’m amazed things worked out the way they did.”
“You and me both. I’m just glad not all Gryphons look at me like a witch,” she said, smiling as she took her new husband in for a kiss.
“Yeah, well, I live in Equestria.” Grif shrugged. “One of my best friends is a witch. Heck, a third of the population are some sort of magical being.” Grif draped a wing over her back. “Besides, I’d rather have someone with access to magic who I know will use it for good.”
“And there’s that charming chivalry I fell in love with. You always know what to say to make a girl feel better.” Avalon smiled as she walked arm in arm with her husband.
“Still doesn’t explain why a pretty one like you fell for this lump of scars and bruises.” He smiled at her. “I scared my other wife nearly to death the first time she saw me. Of course, at the time she was on the opposite side of a battle.”
“Well let’s see. You’re handsome, intelligent, you listen (at least mostly), and you love books almost as much as I do. Should I go on?” she asked as she handed him the medallion he’d let her borrow. Now that they were together, she wouldn’t need it.
“I wouldn’t stop you,” he said playfully. Sadly, his jovial smile would not last long. His face turned serious as they moved. “Just so we can cover this now, let’s not breech the subject of children till we are out of Gryphonia, okay?” he asked. “Things are probably going to get intense very fast in the capital and we’ll all need to be at our best.”
“Fair enough. I’ll make sure to hold off until after we get to our new home. Besides, I have to meet this first wife of yours.”
“I think Shrial will like you. She fought with me during the war and she knows more about the old culture than any other Gryphon alive, though it occurs to me she may have an unfair advantage there.”
“Tell me, how did she come forward with you? From what I’ve heard, you were frozen in stone with your companions, not another Gryphoness.”
“The timeline isn’t as direct as you would believe,” Grif explained. “In fact, the stone freezing happened before the Third Gryphon War for me.”
“You’re kidding.”
“You’re familiar with the myth of the blue box?” Grif asked her.
“You mean the one that appeared to Storm Talon the First?”
“Would you like to meet the one whom it belongs to?”.
“You know the gryphon?”
“He’s a Pony now. It’s a thing I’ll have to explain, some knowledge you’re going to have to expend your disbelief for. Speaking of which, follow me.” Grif signaled one of the scouts ahead before he led Avalon off the path and behind the hedges. “Remember how I told you I could prove my story?”
“Yes.”
Grif twisted the gem on his bracer and in a flash he was replaced with a large bipedal creature Avalon had never seen before.
“So this is the ‘human’ you told me so much about?”
“Yeah,” he said. “This is me, or half of me. Who I was? Who I am sometimes? I honestly still haven’t sorted it all out yet,” he admitted. “Still, you have a right to know.”
“So you were telling me the truth about coming from another world. I admit that’s a little disturbing to think about. It doesn’t change anything of course, but the implications are positively massive. It could well open a completely new branch of magical research and study.” Avalon’s eyes had grown a little distant as she thought on those two beautiful words.
Taze twisted the gem, returning to Gryphon form. “Just to hear it doesn’t change anything means more to me than you know.” He kissed her before heading back to the group. “Have you ever been to the capital?” he asked her.
“A few times. We usually have to visit for Imperial affairs. Emperor Daedalus often relied on my father’s counsel and was glad to invite us to remain for religious observances at the Monastery of Winds.”
“Is it true what they say about Daedalus? He lost both parents at nine years old?”
She nodded grimly. “I’m afraid it is. It was a terrible blow. The Winds Father nearly gave the throne to another to rule as regent, but Daedalus showed he had the nerve, even back then. He refused to let anyone take his family’s throne and even drew swords. The show did the trick, and the Winds Father gave him the blessing.”
“Did your father ever mention anything about the emperor's guard? Are they still loyal to him? Is there any reason to believe they’d purposefully falter in their duty?”
“As far as I’m aware, they should still be loyal to him. Daedalus learned a valuable lesson from his parents’ deaths. He trusts almost no one. And when he does find someone he can trust, he makes sure their loyalty is secure and immovable before he appoints them. For one so young, he has a surprisingly good grip on politics.”
“Then why did he extend the olive branch to our species’ greatest traitor?” Grif asked her. “Why me?”
Avalon gave Grif a blank stare. “You, of all people, should know why, Grif.”
“I sense as though I’m missing something.”
“Clearly. You betrayed Gryphonia a thousand years ago. But in so doing, you pleased The Winds and brought justice to many a corrupt Gryphon. And if I’m not mistaken, you still have that favor. Now, considering Daedalus is the emperor, there can only be one of two reasons for why he would perform the action you questioned. One, that you can be used as a political ally to help stand against those who would dethrone him, or two, that he genuinely looks up to you and shares views similar to your own on many matters that the Kings disagree with. Or I guess there is a third option.”
“And that is?”
“It could be both.”
“You know something,” Grif said as he stared into her eyes. “I’m in for a surprise when meeting him, aren't I?”
“I wouldn’t say I know. Let’s just call it a woman’s intuition,” Avalon said, smiling.
Shawn sighed in relief as he placed the final sword into its sheath. He had finally finished catching up on repairing and replacing the gear from the siege. He took a breath in as he sat down in his chair and leaned back. “I think I can finally take a break.”
With that said, Shrial came bursting in through the door, slamming it against the stone with little care for whether it could break or not. By now, her stomach had grown much larger as she walked carefully around. “Hammer Strike, you in here?”
“Close enough. What’s up?” Shawn asked, turning towards her.
She waved a piece of parchment around as she walked in her widened stance. “I just got a letter from Grif. We’re going to need an airship dock built here in two weeks’ time. Apparently, my husband feels an airship would be the best way to escape without assassins. You know how he is about last minute improvisations.” She rolled her eyes as she gave the letter to the lord for him to peruse.
Shawn scanned the letter a few times before he gave a heavy sigh. “I finally finish, and it’s time to go back to work…”
“Shawn, I’m three months in, and I really don’t give a buck. You and I both know you love big projects like this. So I’m going to get back to my tower, and you’re going to get to work. And if you complain again, let’s just say things aren’t going to be the most pleasant.” She groaned and clutched her stomach. “Winds, I wish they’d stop squirming so much. What are they doing in there, wrestling?”
“Sure,” Shawn shrugged. “I’ll get to work on the designs.”
After Shrial left, Fox Feather entered the room with a roll of parchment under her wing. “Hammer Strike? I have a few questions for you to answer.” She was wearing a hard hat the same color as her armor.
“He’s out at the moment, what questions do you got?” Shawn asked from his desk.
Fox Feather snorted with an annoyed ear twitch. “I am wondering what access we can have to the marble. Also, can you release one of the student architects to let us continue building the plaza?”
“Sure, go for it, build away,” Shawn replied simply.
“Thank you, Lord Shawn,” Fox Feather saluted with a wing before turning to leave.
Shawn sighed as Fox Feather left the room. After a moment he turned the gem on his bracelet, turning into Hammer Strike once more. He hummed to himself as he waited for the next pony to enter his room, having heard them as soon as whoever moved into the hallway towards his forge.
“Don’t have to knock,” he called out.
“Sorry, Starswirl was kind of OCD about knocking,” Clover said as she entered the room. “Old habits die hard.”
“Now that I think on it, yeah, he was,” Hammer nodded. “So, what brings you around?”
“Not many Ponies I can talk to here,” she noted.
“Eventually things will change, but it’s understandable,” Hammer told her. “I wouldn’t know much on it though, considering I’ve been mostly in here,” he gestured around him. “To be honest, I don’t know many of the ponies here enough. I have names and appearance, but that’s about it.”
“Question, how was Starswirl after I was frozen?” she asked.
“Distant, as well as showing anger towards the Doctor.” He glanced over at her. “I take it that’s what happened?”
“It wasn’t his fault.” She shook her head. “Starswirl was so far ahead of his time. Why did he have to have such an idiotic temper?”
“Because sometimes, even those who seem to be an another level compared to the rest still have their own faults.”
“Yes. Well, it seems we all get drawn together.” Clover laughed. “So, I’ve been testing the Unicorns here, and I think we need to talk.”
Hammer hummed in question
“I don’t know what passes for magic classes now, but many of these Unicorns have potential that's being highly ignored. I mean there are few I’d say are alpha level, and plenty of high level betas who aren't aware of much more than basic levitation.”
“After years of peace, Celestia decided to tone down on combat. The army was disbanded, schools taught less on defense. I already noted to her on how it was a terrible choice, but with me and Luna being gone for a thousand years, she got her peace, and the cost shows.”
“Then I’m requesting a tower to prepare a combat magic academy,” she said.
“First you’ll have to wait until the towers are fully restored. While they are stable enough now, if you put too much force onto the floors I can’t promise it ending well,” he warned her. “We’ve been restoring this place for awhile, but most of the wood has rotted, and a lot of things happened in a thousand years here.”
“Very well. Then I am requesting permission to square off a corner of the courtyard for lessons in field combat magic.”
“Granted. Any other requests?”
“I’ll have a potential funding request in by the end of the day,” she said, nodding. “Until next time, Lord Hammer Strike.”
“Clover, you’ve been on my payroll since the moment you stopped being stone,” Hammer mentioned as she exited. “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”
“There it is,” Grif stared up at the immense, intricately carved stone gates. “Gryphelheim, the seat of Gryphon power.” The gate was immense, standing at over nine meters in height and over four meters in breadth. It had been carved into almost five feet of thick stone with an extra defense in the form of a wall surrounding the city entirely.
Though to call it a wall was incorrect. Gryphelheim was a city built inside of a bisected mountain. Thousands of years of Gryphon stone-carving had hollowed out the plateau, so the city was covered from all sides by a wall formed from the mountain’s own base. Inside, homes of stone lined the city’s streets for miles, varying in style and value from the homes of the great clans and the five kings of Gryphonia to the low-end houses of the servants’ section of the city, where the poor, and in many cases, clanless, lived in squalor. The site beyond the gate alone was nearly overwhelming for the group as they approached the open doorway.
Pensword looked on in shock, his eyes wide as he stared at the gateway and the intricate stonework. “They, I assume this is the images of the history of the city?” He asked, blown away. Yet even as he marveled, he couldn’t help but feel a cold pit in his chest as the thought of thievery from Thestral Techniques wormed its way in. “If the nobles had not pushed us into the caves …” He shook his head. There would be time to wonder about his tribe’s potential later. “Still, how do they expect walls to protect from flying species?” he asked as he looked to the sky.
Drifting above them were several large floating objects. Unlike Equestrian airships, these possessed no balloons keeping them aloft. They varied in materials from heavy wood to metal to some that even seemed to be made of stone slabs. They still moved with an almost bird-like grace through the air. Some had what seemed to be metal netting fishing for lighting from nearby storm clouds.
“Remember what I said? Gryphelheim’s highest grossing export is airships,” Grif told him. “They’re powered by a particular type of gemstone only found in Gryphonia.”
Pensword stared at the sky. “They--” He frowned. “I like the practicality and design. The other--” he grimaced. “Second in command--” another face. He spoke in dragonic with annoyance, his voice low. “Matthew does not see the beauty in them. He prefers sailing ship designs.”
Cosy looked at the airships in the sky. “I want one,” He whispered. “I really, really want one.” His eyes shone with the daydreams of what he could do with such a ship as he watched them fly.
“Perhaps Cadence will buy you one.” Grif laughed.
“Halt!” a voice instructed as two large male gryphons approached them. “Identify yourselves!”
Pensword stopped as he fought down a panic attack. Armed Gryphons bearing armor that harkened back to the war were bearing down on them. His wings twitched in anticipation. He moved a wing and placed it on Cosy’s back, doing his best to act like a protective uncle, a move he hoped would not draw undue attention. He mentally locked his mouth as Grif instructed him, waiting to let his friend handle things first.
“We are here to request an audience with His Holiness,” Grif said calmly. “The details do not need to be discussed in public.”
One of the guards nodded his head and was about to speak before his partner cut him off. “And why would so many Gryphons be traveling with Bat Ponies and Earth Treaders?” he asked. Pensword bristled at the words, but kept his mouth shut.
“My mercenary group was hired to serve as protection. Our employers don’t trust Gryphons, so they hired the Thestrals to keep an eye on us,” Grif lied.
“Graak, there are a lot of people coming in today and they clearly aren't here to cause trouble. Just let them go and lets keep moving.”
“Now hold on, this seems suspicious to me.” Graak growled as he moved in, eyeing up the group. He leaned into Avalon’s face. “Well well, hello there, Poppet. Fancy seeing Lord Farflyer’s daughter all the way out here without her daddy.”
“Hello, Graak. How are those scars healing? I really am so terribly sorry about that accident. You didn’t get into too much trouble with your father, did you?” Avalon smirked as she casually fingered a dagger.
The Gryphon grunted, but moved on, examining the others. Grif casually ushered Bellacosa closer with a wing. “Well now, what’s this? Protective of the Pony brat, are you? I wonder what’s so special about the runt that needs protecting?” Graak moved in close, reaching out with a talon towards the hood. Grif glared under his own hood, but didn’t move. He saw Pensword fidgeting nervously as the Gryphon drew closer. A worried look crossed Avalon’s face. Still Grif didn’t move. If they were caught, sanctuary was still an option until the Emperor saw them, but starting something now would kill them all.
Just as the talons got within a hair’s breadth of the fabric, Grif felt the Gryphon throw his weight against him to push him out of the way and with a sly grin, Grif reacted. Every Gryphon in Gryphonia was subject to the law, guardsmen as well as servant, and a shove like that was up to the shoved to interpret as they would. Grif’s movements were too fast to be tracked as he unsheathed his stiletto and drove it into Graak’s throat. The cocky Gryphon gurgled and choked on his own blood as he attempted in vain to pull the knife from his neck, his motor functions already failing him as he slowly died.
The other guard moved warily, brandishing his spear at Grif, but not moving forward. “That was a city guard you just murdered.”
“He threw his weight against me. It was a challenge and I answered in kind.” Grif shrugged as he retrieved the dagger and cleaned it on the dead guard’s fur.
The other guard glared at him for a moment, tensing as if considering to attack, but after a few moments he relented, growling. “You didn’t have to kill him. His father’s clan will be after blood for what you’ve done. Get in the city and don’t cause any more trouble.”
“Tell your friend’s father he can retrieve his worm of a son’s corpse after sundown. And tell him if he wants a vendetta, he can find me at the cathedral.” Grif chuckled as he unclasped his cloak. He’d already drawn attention to himself. There was no point in hiding himself now. Carefully, he threw the cloack around Avalon and tied it gently before turning back to the guard. “Tell him to ask for the Avatar of Winds.” There was a few gasps as Grif lifted his head. He held it high as he signaled his friends to follow. The group entered the gate in a four-being wide column into the city.
“Are you okay, Cosy?” Grif asked as they left earshot. Pensword was on Cosy’s other side.
“Why did you do that, Grif?” Cosy asked.
Pensword answered instead. “The Gryphon shoved Grif. Here, in the city, that is a challenge to one’s authority, and unless you want some poor reception, you need to respond with strength. Also, with him drawing attention to himself, you and I are just normal ponies. Fearsome Ponies, in fact. Notice where we are walking in relation to Grif.” He grinned.
“Um … what does that matter?” Cosy asked, confused.
“When you travel in Gryphonia, your sides are always your most exposed because the people behind you are loyal to you, but they also serve you. The people in front of you are served by you, but those on your side are equal to you, and by walking beside them, you acknowledge that,” Grif recited. “Proverb from Beltonna, the prophet of the North Wind.”
“So basically, because Grif is saying we’re equals by letting us walk next to him, that makes other Gryphons worry what we can do?”
Pensword nodded his head. “That is correct. As we walk at his side, they do not know our own strengths, so they will approach us with unease.” He smiled more. “I like that position.”
“Fear can be a powerful tool,” Grif said as he turned to Avalon. “I hope you don’t mind I stole your kill there?”
“We’ll talk it over later when we spar, Grif,” she said, her tone cool and prim.
“I love you,” Grif offered, somewhat unsure whether to be fearful or excited by her tone.
“We’ll see how that holds when I’m through with you,” she said, smirking as she chuckled.
They walked down the roads slowly and carefully. Grif had to stop on a few occasions and calm Bellacosa down as they moved through the market district. Stands of all kinds lined the streets selling weapons, armor, food, exotic gifts, stone sculptures galore, and the greatest weakness of all, candy. Grif had ended up having to lift the colt onto his back as they passed the confectioners’ stalls.
“If you behave, I’ll bring you back for some candy later in the trip, alright Cosy?” Pensword smiled as he leaned in. “I was eyeing one of the statues, myself.” he added with a chuckle.
Cosy sulked. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that, Pensword.”
Pensword hissed. “Use Uncle,” He whispered. “That name is a byword and considered a Demon name. Unless you want a battle, please call me Uncle.”
“Yes, Uncle,” Cosy said.
Grif showed them the large statues and carvings of great Gryphons of the past, including a large stone carving of Grask Grimfeather standing over the defeated Taimut with his blades held high. He pointed out a large square building made of granite and carved with thousands of highly intricate carvings of Gryphons battling monsters and large, strange figures. The windows were made of stained glass, depicting the four embodiments: The Bird of Paradise shimmering in the sunlight, The Quetzalcoatl curled carefully with a scroll in his claws, The Thunderbird with the wind whistling as he flew forward endlessly, and the massive Roc carrying away full-sized elephants in his talons.
Finally, they came to another sector of the city. Walking through a narrow corridor carved into the stone wall, they emerged out the other end to see a very strange sight: a massive series of stone buildings that seemed to have been carved from the stalactites themselves and hung off a large shelf-like lip of the mountain shell.
“If we’re ever to find a safe place for the night, this is it,” Grif told them.
“What is it?” Cosy asked.
Avalon turned to face the colt, her expression grim. “The Monastery of the Four Winds.”
Lunar Fang watched the rising sun from the wooden porch and sighed. From behind her, the new Nanny walked up with a bell around its neck. It whimpered, its hole-filled legs whistling as a calm breeze drifted through them.
“You may retire to the dungeon now, Fizzpot. Please, take Moon River with you. Construction will soon begin and I’d rather not have her wake up.” The changeling groaned as he picked the foal up and she giggled on his back as he slowly clopped out of the room. His horn still had not grown back yet, and he hated being cut off from his beloved Queen, but to try to escape would mean death at the hands of this little tyrant. He grumbled, complaining down the halls, even as Moon River hugged his neck.
Lunar Fang frowned as she began to hear the sounds of construction closer than she was used to. Taking wing, she looked around the area before she finally spotted the familiar dark blue jacket characteristic of the human she had come to call her friend. “Lord Shawn? What are you doing up there?”
“Building,” he called back.
“On our tower? You didn’t clear it with me,” she replied grumpily. “I was about to try and go to sleep.”
“Blame your husband and Grif. They gave me the message that they are bringing back an airship.”
“An Airship? But that will cut down on--” She let out a sound only a thestral could produce when happy as she did a jig in the air with swoops and rolls. “Well, if you need extra help, you have my permission to pull from the Dream Clan. But if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to follow Fizzpot to the lower levels and get some sleep.”
“Who?”
“Did you not hear what Moon River did?” She asked
“I’ve listened to so many reports, had to reconstruct sets of equipment, KO’d death himself, brought a pony back to life, and had enough blood exit my system that I had to take it easy for a few hours,” Shawn listed. “Even with all that, I’ve missed on so many things that I’m still hearing about.”
“She won her first combat with a Changeling, who is now her Nanny,” Lunar Fang responded before making a tsking sound. “You need to take better care of yourself, and you need your strength for Moon River’s celebration ceremony.”
“Congrats. I’ll add making her first knife to the list,” he said, hanging from a wooden beam as he hammered in yet another nail.
“Thank you. Although tradition dictates it is a dagger, not a knife. I have a material for you to incorporate as well: a Changeling horn.”
“Alright, sounds easy.”
“I hope so.” She gave an aerial bow. “I thank you again for your work on the High Chieftess’ armor.”
“Someone had to make it, and I’m pretty sure nobody else was able to actually forge Ursa bone.”
“Thank you again.” Lunar Fang yawned. “If you shall excuse me, I am going to get some sleep. Also, can you relay a message to Pensword’s unit that their plaza has been moved to the side of the ravine and is coming along nicely?”
“You might see them first.”
“Oh?” Lunar Fang asked.
“I’m going to be up here all day and night, and more probably, until it’s done. I got two weeks to build this...”
“It’s day time for you,” Lunar Fang responded testily. “Sleep time for me. Still, if they stop by, let them know. If not, I’ll tell them next time I see them.”
“Got it.”
“Good night.”
“G’day,” Shawn responded as he continued work.
With a final nod Lunar Fang dipped down and headed inside, her ears folded back from the noise of the one man construction team.
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For some reason, I feel Scotland the Brave to be the best song to be played at the wedding.
6378932
Actually, that's exactly what I was thinking would be playing too. I just didn't know the name of it. Great minds think alike, Biker. Thanks for posting that video.
6379203 What did you think of the video I posted for the last chapter?
I can easily see a love/hate relationship years later between moon and fizz xD with all the affection he is getting from the little tyke
6380948
Yeah, that could happen, but the question, would Fizz still hate this being who gives love freely without him even needing to suck it from a pony? Or would he be changed like most folks seem to be under the power of a child?
6381835 I meant more as the kind of person who presents himself as grumpy and what not but actually cares underneath . That kind of thing ^_^. " I don't care about you, just be careful " something like that.
6381866
ah.....
I see now.
I can see that. Yeah, sorry for the confusion, and yes, that is actually the personality that we are aiming for Fizz. Do you like his name?
6381929 Yes actually ^_^ and look forward to seeing more of him. I love thestrals and changlings <3 I am one of those dang nabit changling sympathizers lolol
6381935
I am happy you like his name, and I assure you, there will be more of him showing up here and there in the future. Do not fret.
Then you must like Me-Me and the Everfree hive.
What were your thoughts over her evolution of a character so far? As well as Chrysalis so far? How about the Changelings in general in the story? Are you enjoying what you have read so far?
I am also please to hear you like Thestrals as well, what are your thoughts on the backstory that we have created for them in this story?
6381940 I do, though however our view of Me Me is more prominent over her consort as we only see them a hand full of times as they are background characters. So most growth is off screen like how would they react towards ponies who aren't close to them or earned their undying loyalty? Or how chrysalis hive dealing with the news of a prosperous hive that isn't there own which isn't being exterminated by the equestrians. Stuff like to that accord, but i am loving your world building and the gryphon history. Love Avalon <33 she is a lovable snarky and cunning lady
6381831 Imma kinda at lost there too. I can see that it fit several places, but then it also doesn't fit them for one reason or another...so i just left them there seeing as it might fit in a small sections of many places.
6382688
Well, the song is amazing. And if nothing else, it is going on my book marks for music to listen to while working. So, thank you for that.
And yes it fits in some scenes but not others. Still thank you for the effort of having music you share with us.
6382007
I am happy you like Avalon.
Also, yeah, we will be building more, and I hope you do not mind that character building happens off screen, but this is a story trying to mimic real life. Things do happen outside of the focus and well, it is fun. Their are a lot of threads moving forward and things are happening. I think you will enjoy what happens in the next couple chapters.
6383849 I don't mind at all, and looking forward to it :3
6382865 Well, I am enjoying...It's just tiring...I've been reading this for the last 3 days...
Welp, 13 chapters left before I catch up...Keep working on the story...I would like to see how it goes.
Onward!
And yeah...I regularly post music videos when I comment. And...I'm glad you enjoy these stuff.
Sorry for being late, and tired, I dont really do travel all that well these days.
Is Death a localised ponymorphic personification, as in limited to this reality only, or is he a subset of all Deaths, and so therefore should know just how much medical advancements accross the realms and realities can prevent, pull back and outright bypass loss o life of a person? and then theres The Doctor?
Shaun didnt have Ressurection, so intead went with Antidote, Healing, and Defribulation? And something that couldve made a lot of damage with Death getting distracted through phasing out as normal?
Now that Trixie is part of the Flatliner club, she gets to enjoy the company of the end of all on a regular basis? Wonder how long he would stay around if she kept going through her prior performances and boasts, given he might have had to turn up to a couple of them previously due to old ponies keeling over from shock or otherwise?
And then shaun decided to do a bit of work, then a bit more work, then sort out the weapons, tidy the tax forms, again, as accidentally torching the last lot couldnt be taken as a tax write down due to act of god.
And once all thats done, he finally gets his reast. Because he mentions it. All 5 seconds, which to be true, is an improvement over most times. while trying to get book nerd couch potatoes to consider applying their neural operations to more physical efforts, like how to train. Pity really, in combat you mostly dont hink with your brain, you think with your muscles. Aesop had a good example, the fox and the hare. Hounds approach, fox tries to think which of the thousand tricks he knows, Hare runs. Fox gets eaten. Still no admiration for how Rarity spars, given no description, and where is Spike at this time, wen he could be drooling over such grace and violence? After all that, Shaun is building the airship dock all by himself, monkey bar style? How is he not calling, or allowing any assistance, such as Twiight beam and block lifting, or other magic user, flyers?
Poor Pensword and Grif. Managed to sort out enough armament to make a decent wedding, and they end up with three more and threatening a funeral? At least noone tried interupting this time. Was that all the Blacktips before, as they were so sure of themselves that all their members went in, and so died, or did some retreat in order to call for payment, resources, reinforcements for other places and other times?
At least the rolls for the rest of the journey were favourable. then again, with those combat levels and modifiers, any Bandit group would have had to have a whole set of 1s to end up dieing to meet them. Of course, sometimes the rolls give intresting results, such as the roll for gate encounter. Hello Poppet? Im sorry, but that guy was so far up the to die immediately list, Im really impressed at Grifs restraint. And Im sure if Grif had styed his talon, Pensword wouldve taken him out before reaching Cory, and Avalon wouldve likely disembowled him if he had tried flanking. After all, its not like they are carrying heavy weaponry, siege units, Luna, or Hammerstrike. I wonder how long before the Griffons realise that these guys are here to talk, so that smeone doesnt try being stupid, in order that Hammerstrike has to come calling. And being Very Annoyed when he has to do so.
How long befor Hammerstrike gets Death to give him a lift round, given he is a nonlocale menifestation, and so doesnt travel from one place to annother, his is just there as required, and is usually required when Hammerstrike hits things? Or is that not allowed even though quantum particles do the temporal borrowing for transitions all the time? Or could he ask Death about research problems, such as new materials and technologies from around the multiverse, through direct interaction with researchers who were a bit to enthusiastic with the research and not enough on the prior analysis and safety features, such as being in the next county?
If I got this right, this is the coat of arms for the local Knight family, from at least 1300 to present day,
Sir Robert Of Holden Coat Of Arms. Five/Six Gryphons.
And now we shall see the sights of the griffons in their time of staying, also it's amusing to see Death react this way to Shawn, and still funny that a small thestral filly took down a grown changeling stallion.
Phew. You didn't kill her.