The Olden World

by Czar_Yoshi

Yak Embassy

Gerardo stepped out into the morning sun of the yak embassy compound, Sharpie and Brightcoil leading the way. He blinked several times; first to adjust to the sudden brightness and second at what he saw. "For an embassy of yaks, this facility certainly has a lot of ponies."

At least seven equines were visible within the walls, discounting his companions, some engaged in conversation and others walking between doors and entrances. Most wore saddlebags designed for paperwork, and all dressed smartly or else not at all.

"Yakyakistan has a pony population, too," Brightcoil narrated. "Most of these are citizens. The yaks just like using pony diplomats because it makes them seem more relatable."

"And because they're small," Sharpie added. "Yaks are big, so accommodating them takes up more space, which means they would need a bigger, more expensive compound for the same level of output. Herman makes an exception for himself, of course, but usually they're too stingy to even represent themselves properly."

"Herman is a yak, though, I take it?" Gerardo raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Sharpie said stiffly, her wet mane clinging to itself despite the breeze. "You can see for yourself soon enough, provided he doesn't ignore me and shove me down his schedule."

---

They entered a doorway at the rear of the compound, backed by a wall that was carved into the mountain. After a short tunnel while the ground rose overhead, the ceiling opened up as well.

Though the walls were stone, as always, they were cracked, cobbled together from smooth-faced boulders of all different shades of blue and gray. Dark wooden trim hung along the floor, walls and ceiling as support beams, or perhaps in imitation of them, being too thin to hold any real weight. Instead, they were covered in red-painted runes and patterns, occasionally studded with hooks from which large, tribal-looking yak masks hung, staring with perpetual frowns and empty eyes. A rotary clock was mounted at the far end of the room, embellished with careful but blunt carvings and designed without hands, such that the entire panel rotated loudly with the passing of time.

"Hi," a candy-colored mare behind a low desk droned in an extremely thick accent. "What make ponies come by yak headquarter this day?"

Sharpie hissed through her teeth. "Spare me, Maia. My job stinks enough already without having to parse you."

Maia looked up, lidding her eyes and dropping the accent. "What, so I shouldn't be able to do mine either? I get paid too, you know. Now are you going to tell me what you want, or what?"

"This griffon needs to meet with Herman," Sharpie quickly commanded. "He has something important to discuss regarding the Defense Force."

"Hmmhmmhrrrrmmm..." Maia gnawed her lip, skimming through an appointment book that out of the corner of Gerardo's eye appeared nearly blank. "I can pencil you in two weeks from now. How's that sound? We could also push it back later..."

Deciding it was better to interrupt early than let the situation continue in its present direction, Gerardo raised a talon. "I'm detecting a significant amount of animosity in this room, which is very unfortunate as I would very much rather act as soon as possible." Straightening his posture, he added, "Please, I have no wish to get swept up in internal politics, and mean you no harm or ill will."

Sharpie shot him an unhappy look, then sighed as if used to being thrown under the cart and held her tongue, backing away from the conversation.

"You do, huh?" Maia blinked up at him from her tiny little stool. "See, by picking their side, you're getting as politicky as possible, mister catbird. You've got 'here as part of a scheme' written all over you, and Herman doesn't have time to deal with that! Go find someone else to accuse of wasting money protecting your ungrateful little city!"

"On the contrary," came a voice from the corner, "involving himself in the schemes of others is what our glorious leader does best."

In a rocking chair, gently swaying, half-hidden by a tall potted fern, an elderly stallion sat, traces of green in his mane and a dark, mottled coat the perfect shade for blending in. "Your trust in the Ambassador is too thin," he lectured in a small voice. "Let him decide what pieces are useful and which should be cast away. After all, in the great game, he plays for both Ironridge and Yakyakistan."

"Uurrrgh!" Maia reached up and tugged on her mane, which was rolled into two buns. "I've been here for a while now! Stop treating me like I'm new!"

"Then stop pretending to have so little faith," the stallion softly said. "Our Ambassador was appointed by the Bishops themselves. Besides, I know your planner is empty for this morning."

"Don't you... they're using... aaagh!" Maia slammed both forehooves against the desk, causing it to rattle woodenly on its supports. Lips drawing back in a scowl, she flipped the appointment book back open. "Herman have time for catbird after present meeting. Catbird wait in lobby and not go anywhere. I'm taking my break!"

With a huff, she threw down the planner, stood up, and exited the room through a side passage, tail flicking violently. Gerardo shrugged, looking to Sharpie and Brightcoil. "I hope that doesn't return to bite me. Such a temper could prove to be an unfortunate and volatile obstacle."

"I wouldn't fear too much, catbird," the stallion in the corner reassured. "Our ambassador is used to never letting his staff get in the final say. You'll get your chance for him to judge your cause, rest assured." He raised an eyebrow at Sharpie and Brightcoil, still rocking. "Although, that's no guarantee he'll take your side. Some ponies are quick to forget that Herman is the savior of the Stone District, and blame instead of thank him for their livelihoods. You two, for instance, would be much happier if you put your ambition aside and worked to make the world a better place. And don't try to pretend you're happy now. I know the signs of stress and anger when I see them."

Sharpie fumed, and Brightcoil laid a comforting hoof on her shoulder. Meanwhile, Gerardo tilted his head. "I'm sorry, but who did you say you were, again?"

The stallion nodded in time to his rocking. "You can call me Emil. That isn't my full name, but it's much simpler than the explanation. And I've been working at this embassy since it was founded, for nearly forty years."

"I... see," Gerardo said, eyes unfocused. "I did spend some time in Yakyakistan, but can't say I have a particular memory of the workings of their naming conventions..."

"Well, don't waste your time worrying about her." Emil nodded toward the door Maia had left through, shrugging slightly and revealing a pair of decrepit wings. "She was born and raised in this embassy, and has never seen the homeland. I have faith she'll grow into a good mare in time, though who can say how long that will take? She never has taken her virtues seriously..."

"Forgive me if this lacks tact, but my memory of Yakyakistan consists entirely of rock and ice," Gerardo remarked. "I have been considering returning there some day, however. When you speak of that mare that way... what places do you recommend I not miss out on?"

"You're asking the wrong pegasus," Emil wheezed sadly. "I've been here since this embassy's modern inception, which was just after the war. There've been so many progressions and revolutions since then, I imagine even if I went back I wouldn't recognize a thing. Who knows what the Yakyakistan of today looks-" His ears twitched. "Oh?"

A door on the far wall clicked, its lock being undone. "That's the Ambassador," Emil announced. "Whatever you want with him, I hope it benefits both of our nations."

"That would be most beneficial, yes," Gerardo said, striding toward the door. "I-"

The door swung open, and Gerardo's face fell like a fruit smashed against the ceiling when he saw the ugly manestyle waiting behind.

"Oh, hey, bird-bro!" Howe grinned, beaming, acting for all the world as if he hadn't been ditched miles away less than eight hours earlier. "Fancy meeting you here, heh heh!"

"I really would rather not deal with this right now," Gerardo softly remarked to no one in particular, looking as if he had been robbed thrice in one day. "Howe, whatever your business here, I-"

"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa." Howe held a hoof out, confidently interrupting. "Look, bud, you feel that we've got some bad blood, and I get that. I mean, I might have oversold myself back with those guards just a little, but hey, a guy's allowed to make mistakes, right?" He raised a challenging eyebrow. "It ain't like you didn't leave me in a pickle yourself, you know. Or... I dunno... just wandered off without saying a word to your poor pal? Look, I like you, brother bird, but it's almost like you don't want the Howenator around."

"That is the point, Howe," Gerardo sighed. "Despite, and often because of your best efforts, you've done nothing but be a hindrance to me and my causes. Now please, get out of my way. I have a very important meeting to attend to, and you are not a part of it."

Howe opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Sharpie. "Excuse me?" she asked, wearing an uncharacteristically-pleasant smile. "You said your name was Howe? I feel like I know you from somewhere!" Leaning across one foreleg to match his posture, she continued, "How long have you been in Ironridge? More than a month? I kind of feel like..." She trailed off, putting a hoof to her chin.

"Who, me?" Howe turned, immediately gravitating to the pony actually willing to pay attention to him. "Nah, I just rolled in real recently, like a few days ago. I've been here before though. Gotta go where the work takes you, yeah?"

"That's it!" Sharpie snapped her feathers, jumping in place and grinning broadly. "I do remember! You're that public speaker, aren't you? Who gave a speech here a year ago?"

"Heyyy!" Howe grinned back, then blew a raspberry at Gerardo. "Looks like someone here can appreciate a pegasus with talent! Lucky for me, she's a hot babe, too! We should hang out. Feeling up to lunch with little old Howe?"

Sharpie only missed half a beat, keeping her expression pleasant even as it faltered. "I-I'm not... eligible," she managed, to Howe's clear dismay. "But we can talk?"

"Excuse me, but I don't-" Gerardo began, but was suddenly cut off.

A green magical aura clamped itself around his beak, and when he looked to Brightcoil, she minutely shook her head. "She's distracting him for you," she whispered. "Go see Herman!"

Pausing only slightly to marvel at Sharpie's ability to repress her general bitterness in the name of furthering their mission, Gerardo nodded, slipping through the door and into the corridor beyond.

Comments

[FloydienSlip]

lol Howe.

[Hap]

Heh, I like Maia.

[KMCA]

I wonder where his partners Dewy and Cheatum are? They'd make such a fine law firm.

[bronyheat]

Howe is either going to be some pony of great importance or this story's Stu Leaves (character of Appledashery fame)...
Hmmm no that might be too cruel toward Howe...

[sploopy slooder]

did the author make howe such an obnoxious sack of shit on purpose? every sentence out of his mouth since he showed up has been annoying nonsense. valey is the fun and endearing kind of annoying, howe is the "please god shut up and leave forever" kind of annoying.