• Published 15th Jul 2019
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Set Sail - Jack of a Few Trades



Gallus doesn't want to go home for the summer. To get out of it, all he has to do is join the Hippogriff Navy. Simple enough, right?

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Chapter 16: Here's To The Future

“Seaspray? How are you feeling, sugar?” asked Queen Novo.

I responded the only way that felt right, with a blistering side-eye.

Her motherly look of concern soured to an annoyed grimace. “Maybe I should have let you stay in the suite until the medicine kicked in. But could you at least try not to make death glares at the diplomats? It’ll cause a scene.”

With a snort, I attempted to accommodate her and make my face a bit more neutral. “Maybe that would give you a headache as big as mine,” I muttered.

Novo laughed off my threat. “We won’t stay too much longer. I promise.”

Despite her promises, I knew her better than that. It was a reception party. Novo was in the company of other politicians. This was her comfort zone, and it would be hours before she was ready to leave it.

Which was fine. The painkillers she’d given me were making a difference now, but regardless, I would have preferred not to spend another evening rubbing elbows with snobby world leaders who considered me beneath them. It was the final night of the South Sea Rulers’ Conference, and we would return to Mount Aris in the morning. The thought of sleeping in my own bed was nice, but not coordinating an entire navy in crisis mode via the mail sounded even better. It would have also helped if that damned communication crystal I sent for had worked longer than ten minutes.

I simply needed to make it through one more evening of diplomacy and formalities. At least the reception was pleasant. The Ornithians pulled no punches when it came to the food or the entertainment—live music from an impressively talented parrot pianist and a spread of fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and liquors fit for a king. Thanks to my pained scowling, I hadn’t been forced to speak to anyone so far, content to graze on hors d'oeuvres while Queen Novo did all the talking.

Emerging from the crowd, a small blue dragon walked toward us with a purposeful stride. Without missing a beat, Novo was in greeting mode. “Dragon Lord Ember, lovely to see you.”

Ember’s eyes were set with tension, as if she were forcing herself not to blink. “Queen Novo, General Seaspray,” she said stiffly, “the Dragon Lord requests an audience!”

Queen Novo and I glanced at each other, and she smiled that knowing smile she loved to use when addressing her subjects. “Of course, Your Lordship,” said Novo. It wasn’t the first time someone had been nervous to address the queen, but it was a bit odd for another leader to be that way.

Ember grinned, perhaps a bit more earnestly than she had intended to. I gave her a courteous nod and excused myself from the conversation, allowing space for the two to talk statecraft.

As I walked to the refreshment table, I took in a few details about the guests. The griffons were largely keeping to themselves, of course. They were huddled near the large windows overlooking Arini and admiring the beautiful scattering of lights across the city below, stretching around the shoreline and off into the rolling hills beyond.

Behind the griffons, the sizable delegations from Zebrica and Cervidas were gathered around Chancellor Romunda and one other parrot I had not seen before, a dull roar of conversation emanating from the crowd. I noted the parrot who stood behind the Chancellor as odd, with jet-black feathers that stood out against the brightly colored Ornithians I’d met so far. Their crest feathers were long and spiky, and they stood tall and rigid with disciplined ease. They wore a vest adorned with numerous medals.

Were they a general? Why hadn’t I seen them before now?

I returned to Queen Novo and Ember with a fresh glass of champagne, tuning back in just as they were finishing up their talk. “And of course, if you ever need help then the dragons have your back,” Ember said, shaking Queen Novo’s claw.

“I know I’ll be sleeping better at night knowing I have you on my side,” said Novo with a smile.

Ember laughed. “Me too. Well, not that I’ll be sleeping better. I already have dragons on my side! Because I’m the Dragon Lord.” She seemed to realize that she was still talking and stopped herself with a breath, stepping back and taking a bow. “Thank you, Queen Novo. General,” she acknowledged.

“Safe travels!” Queen Novo called after Ember as she left, and then turned to me. Her eyes drifted down to the glass in my talons. “Champagne?”

I nodded and fixed her with a smirk. “It’s helping my head. Would you like me to get you a glass?”

Novo shook her head. “You know I can’t since we banned all that stuff. And neither should you.”

“And you know my opinion on that decree of yours,” I said, tossing a swig back without breaking eye contact. “Since we’re not subject to Seaquestrian laws right now, I’m living it up while I can.”

She tensed a bit. “I’m aware that the law is unpopular, but a little support would be appreciated.”

“I don’t support the drinking ban, but I still support you.” I took another drink, but this time it tasted a bit more sour.

“Very diplomatic answer.” Novo rolled her eyes and turned toward the gathered crowd around the Ornithian Chancellor. “Look at that feeding frenzy.”

“I was under the impression that you liked the other diplomats.”

Novo scoffed and chuckled. “Some of them, sure. Others, not so much. But would I call any of them friends?”

I nodded. “Every one of them is here to curry favor.”

“Exactly. Ornithia’s an economic powerhouse, and everyone wants a piece of the action.”

“It would be nice to have a few of their airships,” I commented, idly hoping it would plant a seed for the next time the navy’s budget came up for consideration.

“Chancellor Romunda is very proud of them,” Novo agreed. “Not that I would know, but apparently Ornithian airships are the best ones out there—and the most expensive.”

“Now I want one even more.” My quip earned a quiet chuckle from the queen, and I smiled. “I expected this reception to be a lot more formal.”

Queen Novo nodded. “It’s a lot less stuffy in here than it was the last time I visited King Eclectus. Don’t get me wrong, he was interesting company, but the meetings were always so boring and ceremonious.”

I thought back to how young I had been when Eclectus was in charge of Ornithia. This had been the first place the Storm King attacked when he began his takeover more than twenty years prior. I was still a colonel back then, and a fresh one at that. The late General Ironbeak had been in charge. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I wish I had gotten the opportunity to meet him,” I said.

“You probably wouldn’t have liked him. He was loud and cocky—could be a real pain to work with.”

I elected not to comment on the similarities she shared with him. “Maybe these new leaders will be more agreeable. How did Romunda wind up in charge, anyway?”

Novo kept her eyes on the chancellor. “She was part of the resistance against the Storm King. Once the yeti got shattered, there weren’t any royals left and she jumped into the power vacuum.”

“Ah. So, why aren’t you over there feeding at the trough, then?”

“Sometimes you gotta play hard to get,” she said with a coy smile. “Romunda wants to talk to me, just you wait.”

I didn’t have to wait long. The crowd thinned out as some of the Cervidian delegation excused themselves and left, and then the parrots went on the move. They made a quick stop at the griffon huddle near the window, but the pair was headed in our general direction.

“Queen Novo!” said Romunda as she finally made her way over to our side of the room. A big, inviting grin crossed her beak. Behind her stood the dark-plumed parrot general. I hadn’t noticed it before, but they had two bright red patches of feathers on their cheeks. “I have been looking forward to finally meeting you properly.”

Novo’s diplomatic smile was back in full force. “And I as well.” She turned to me. “This is my top general and senior advisor, Seaspray.”

“Charmed,” said Romunda, offering a wing shake. “Your reputation precedes you, General. I must say, that navy of yours is a marvel.”

“Thank you, Madame Chancellor,” I said. “But not as impressive as those airships of yours.”

The compliment registered as her smile widened a bit. “As flattering as that is, I can’t take all the credit for them. Allow me to make an introduction of my own. This is General Nocturne, leader of Ornithia’s naval and air forces.” The general offered a wing bump but said nothing. “He’s been hoping to meet you all week.”

Nocturne flashed an annoyed side glance at Romunda, and suddenly I felt intense sympathy for him. “Nothing like waiting until the last moment,” he said. His voice had a bit of a musical quality to it, smooth and even.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said.

“We meant to find you earlier,” Romunda continued, “but it is very difficult to walk through a crowd that follows you everywhere.”

“We’ve had a lovely evening all the same,” said Novo. “You certainly know how to entertain.”

“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it,” said Romunda. “But it is late, and the staff are waiting to go home. Would you two care to join us in my study for a moment? I won’t keep you long, but I would love to have more time to talk with my closest neighbors.”

I didn’t even have to look at Queen Novo to know the smirk on her face.

“Of course, Chancellor. We would be honored to join you.”

Chancellor Romunda’s study in the castle’s east wing was large and ornately furnished, with rich red carpets and a heavy, dark wood desk as its centerpiece. As soon as we arrived at the private study, the conversation turned to trade negotiations: a subject that bored me to tears but fortunately didn’t require my presence. I walked away quickly once Novo uttered the word “tariff.”

The walls were mostly lined with bookshelves, and each one was full to bursting with books. While statecraft and diplomacy were the conversational topics, I found a moment to wander and browse the titles. Most were books of law and civics, but some shelves held titles that were more personal to the chancellor. A few psychology texts and several works of fiction dotted the shelf, but the remaining space was filled with history books. Most of them seemed to relate to various revolts and revolutions from around the world, even including one title on the relatively recent independence struggle of Cervidas from the Griffon Empire.

The scrape of a claw on the floor drew my attention away from the books, and I turned to face General Nocturne as he approached me. He was quite tall and carried himself in an imposing, calculated manner. His dark eyes felt probing, as if scanning me for every detail that might give him an advantage. By this point in my career, I had come to regard that as a mark of a good commander.

Being terse and tense was probably the reaction he expected out of me, so I decided to throw him a curveball by acting friendly. “Did the economic talks chase you off too?”

It seemed to do the trick and disarm him, at least slightly. His crest feathers lowered a tiny bit. “Yes, I must admit. Not my forte.”

I chuckled. “If I know Queen Novo, we may have some time to kill. It’s one of her favorite things to discuss.”

“Chancellor Romunda is similar,” he agreed. His soft-spoken, smooth, and even cadenced voice did match well with his arresting outward appearance. “That and history.” He gestured toward the bookshelf with a wing. “Admiring the collection?”

“I may need to find some of these for my own library.”

“She would be a historian were she not involved in politics. Many of these have been out of print for decades,” he said, reaching over and pulling one from the shelf titled Mine Field, which he then passed to me. “This one is about a group of diamond dogs who smuggled weapons for fighters against the Storm King and never got caught. You can take it with you.”

I eyed it warily. “Won’t Romunda think me a thief if I walk out of here with one of her books?”

“I’ve got a copy in my own collection at home to replace it with,” he said with a wink. “She’s already read it anyway, so it’s not likely to be missed. Just tuck it under your wing when you leave.”

For a moment I considered what his angle could be. Other than the faint possibility of an attempt to poison my reputation, the gesture seemed sincere. And I was very interested in reading it. “Thank you,” I said, taking the book.

“Of course. It’s a great read. I hope you enjoy it.” He smiled, but that quickly dropped away as a weighty thought crossed his face. “May I ask you something?”

“You may.”

“Have there been any… troubles in your waters as of late?”

How would you know that? News of the attack had reached the press at Mount Aris, but my sailors had done an excellent job of limiting the details that were published. A ship was damaged in an unspecified incident with some loss of life and another had not been accounted for, per the articles I had seen. A notable event, but relatively common in the navy business. The news reaching this far and registering as something worth asking directly about seemed unlikely.

“Nothing of significance,” I dismissed. “Times have been peaceful since the Liberation.” In a broad sense, it was true. A single random attack was a small wave in almost two years of calm seas.

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” he said. “Rumors have been circulating from the sailors coming through our ports. They speak of escorts and heightened safety measures, sunken ships, rogue—”

That helped explain his unexpected knowledge, at least. I raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that my navy is not doing its job?”

Nocturne put up his wings and shook his head. “No! No, my apologies. I’m simply trying to understand what is happening next door. I’ve noticed the number of couriers coming back and forth since you’ve been here, and it makes me wonder if problems over there may begin to affect my territory.”

I weighed how much information I should give him. If we wished to maintain friendly relations with Ornithia—and that was Queen Novo’s intent by all measures—keeping events that would eventually wind up in newspapers as secrets was a bit of a hostile stance. “We have had a small situation in the past week with a rogue pirate gang harassing ships. We are dealing with it.”

Nocturne nodded. “I understand. We’ve seen our fair share of pirate problems as well. It seems that in the absence of the Storm King, there have been some shake-ups in the underground trade and too many are looking to capitalize.”

“So they make grand shows of force to put themselves on top.” That was the frontrunner of my theories behind the attacks.

“Was it Sternclaw, by chance?” Nocturne asked.

My head snapped toward him. “How did you know?”

Nocturne gave a small chuckle. “The file we have on him is lengthy. He used to operate in our territory, mostly in the far southern islands closer to the great ice shelf. It’s been a few months since our last report of him, so we figured he’d moved elsewhere or been killed. I guess he didn’t go very far.”

The gears began spinning in my head. “Would you be willing to share that file? It would help immensely with our efforts to track him down.”

Nocturne smirked. “On one condition.”

“And that would be?”

“You allow me to attend the execution when you catch him,” said Nocturne. “He’s been a thorn in my side for far too long.”

I grinned and offered him a wing bump. “Done.”

Nocturne nodded his thanks. “If you need assistance, I would be happy to send a few airships to assist with the hunt.”

“I may just take you up on that.”

My ear perked as I heard my name called from around the corner, and we rejoined Novo and Romunda in the main chamber. Novo wore a pleased, calm expression, while Romunda was busying herself arranging wine glasses on the desk.

“That was fast,” I snarked, earning an amused snort from Novo.

“Negotiations are easy when most of your agendas overlap with each other,” she said.

“Just make sure your ports can handle lots of airships.” Romunda seemed to notice the impressed look on my face, a knowing smile crossing her beak. “Care for a glass, generals?”

“What is it?”

“It’s a Nebbiolo wine,” she said, which did little to clarify what it actually was. “This bottle was part of the king’s stock. It was in a hidden room in the cellar that the Storm King never found the whole time he lived in this castle. Thirty-seven years old.”

That raised my eyebrows. “That was bottled when I was still in school,” I said, taking the glass of pinkish-red wine I had been offered. “I’ve never even heard that word before. Nebbiolo.

“It’s the variety of grape used to make it. They can be a bit intense,” said Romunda.

The wine lived up to her warning. Despite not being especially rich in color, the flavor was strong and carried an unexpected twist. Sour at first, a sweetness developed the longer it lingered on the tongue. Underneath it all, I thought I detected a hint of nutty flavor like almonds.

After searching for the right word to describe it, I finally settled on, “Exquisite.”

Romunda nodded and smiled. “King Eclectus was known for his love of fine wine. His cellar hasn’t disappointed me yet.”

“To King Eclectus,” I said, raising my glass, “and his incredible taste.”

“Wherever he may be,” Nocturne said, and we all drank the toast. Well, the three of us did. Queen Novo simply watched, her brow creased with contemplation.

“Do you think he’s still out there?” she asked.

“Eclectus?” Romunda shook her head. “There hasn’t been any trace of him since the Storm King took charge. If he was, he would have come back for his throne by now. The Yeti didn’t exactly go easy on royals. Not to mention that he was pretty old back then anyway.”

Nocturne nodded. “Cut off the head of the snake, I believe was how he put it.”

Novo shifted in her chair, the faintest hint of a grimace slipping out past her calm and collected mask. Had she not taken the hippogriffs into the sea, she might have lost her head in the most literal sense. “Probably so. I guess it’s just hard to believe nobody ever found any evidence of what happened to him.”

“That’s what happens when evil dictators take over,” Romunda said with cruel certainty. “So many parrots disappeared without a trace. You hippogriffs were smart to flee to the one place he couldn’t touch. My guess is that Eclectus is at the bottom of the ocean somewhere.”

“Perhaps one day we’ll find him, then,” I offered, holding the pearl shard on my necklace up. “There’s a lot of ocean that seaponies have yet to explore.”

The parrots exchanged a glance, then Romunda offered a calm smile. “Thank you for the thought, but even if you did, we think it would be best to let the past stay buried. Ornithia is moving forward toward a brighter future; exhuming the body of our old king would only serve to remind us of what we’ve all been through.”

I nodded my understanding, then Queen Novo came in. “What does that brighter future look like?”

Maybe that was another reason why she was the queen. She always had a way of asking bigger questions. Anyone else might have been caught unprepared, but Romunda was ready. “One where every Ornithian is safe, happy, and healthy. We’ve lived in a dangerous world and lost so much these past twenty years, and now we have an opportunity for a fresh start to put that behind us and truly come into our own with a stronger economy than we’ve ever had before. We plan to listen to our subjects and provide them with ways to make their voices heard. I want to ensure that there is balance and fairness in the way we govern—” she cracked a grin ”—and maybe we can move the industrial zone downwind of the city.”

“Amen to that,” Nocturne muttered, earning a chuckle from Romunda.

“I bet your subjects are going to eat that up,” said Queen Novo, though I detected the smallest curl of sarcasm in her voice. She could tell even better than I could that the little speech was probably an excerpt of the typical one Romunda delivered at rallies.

“They’d better, as much work as I put into those words.” Romunda seemed to pick up on the sarcasm as we all shared a laugh. “And what does your bright future look like, Queen Novo?”

With a bow of her head, Novo shifted into the larger-than-life persona that she used at every royal address. “Twenty years of isolation and sorrow is enough,” she intoned, her voice taking on a forceful cadence. “It is time the hippogriffs and seaponies look outward at the great skies and seas we call home. We feel the sunlight on our faces, and it feels incredible. Gone are the days of hiding and fear. It is time to grow, to heal, to greet new friends beyond our borders, and join the world of tomorrow. I want every corner of the world to know that we’re here and we aim to make a name for ourselves.”

Two masters of hearts and minds in one room, sharing notes. It was a sight to behold. “Here’s to the future!” I toasted, raising my glass.

“To the future!”



When I was gross and overheated after a long day at the docks, all it took to wash it away and feel like a griffon again was a quick plunge into the water. Never in a million years would I have thought that swimming would become the best part of my day.

Of course, it did come with the problem of wet wings that made it hard to fly home, but that was fine. It gave me a chance to preen the feathers while I dried off. While I dragged my primaries through my beak and straightened them out, I had a little time to think.

I was in a good mood today, and honestly I had been all week. It had been a couple of days since Silverstream and I had our first hangout as boyfriend and girlfriend—did that count as a date? The thought still gave me butterflies in my gut—and I wanted to see her again. I wanted to go out and do something fun tonight, but there was just one complication: I didn’t know where she lived. I still hadn’t gone over to her house once. It probably wouldn’t be too difficult to figure out her address, especially considering that her family was so well-known and connected, but if I went and tracked her down?

Not a good look. The ball was in her court if we were going to do anything tonight, unfortunately. So that left me stuck in limbo, whether to wait for her to maybe show up or just go out and do something on my own.

Either way, I had plenty to keep myself busy. My first batch of stackberry wine was about five days into fermenting, and it hadn’t been stirred since morning. That thought propelled me off the beach and into the air, making a beeline for home. I burst through the door and immediately hit the kitchen to grab the biggest wooden spoon I could find.

The apartment was silent, as it had been for the entire week since Ty had returned. Not that I hadn’t seen him—he’d asked me to bring food and help him get down to the bathroom a couple of times. He thanked me for my help, but he didn’t have much else to say. By the third day, he was mobile enough that he didn’t need any assistance, and then the apartment settled all the way into that uncanny quiet. He made occasional trips to the kitchen or the bathroom, and then he was right back up to his room without a word.

Before he left for his nightmare voyage, I’d never seen the door closed, but now it was shut all the time. I wondered what he was doing up there all by himself. It was a bit worrying to see him so quiet, but it wasn’t my place to press him.

Up in my room, I tossed the filthy rags of my work uniform into a growing heap on the far side of the room. That pile of laundry needed addressing too, but it could wait. Much bigger priorities at the moment. I’d stashed the clay pot behind the door so it would be somewhat hidden when the door was open. The sweet, tangy aroma of the berries greeted me as I lifted the lid, with a pungent undertone of yeastiness. A little bit of deep purple foam clung to the sides. Everything looked to be in order, and so I plunged the spoon in and gave it a stir, which greatly intensified the smell. When that scent filled the room, Grandpa Gruff would take a deep breath in and sigh, waxing poetic about “Grover’s gift to the world” or something like that. I highly doubted King Grover was the one to invent winemaking, but I wasn’t about to correct the griffon paying me to listen to him ramble. The more I mouthed off, the less money I tended to get.

It wouldn’t be too much longer before this first batch would be ready to sell. But still, it wasn’t quite there, no matter how much I needed it to be. I put the lid back onto the pot and flopped myself down in my reclining chair, blowing a breath into my crest.

What to do? The most obvious answer was to catch up on some reading. So far, I had only finished the introduction of Nautical Terminology for Idiots. Even though I was around them every day, I still didn’t know a barquentine from a… boat. Case in point. I was so clueless that I couldn’t even make a euphemism about how clueless I was.

It would have been a great use of my time if reading didn’t sound awful. I didn’t want to spend my night inside studying like a boring loser. There were plenty of nights for that during the school year. I needed to get out and do something, but had no idea where to go or what to do. So I did what any self-respecting griffon would in that situation: I sat and stared at the ceiling.

Come on, Silverstream. Surely she realized that I didn’t know where to find her. Right?

A few minutes passed before I heard the scrape of claws and the thump of hooves on the wooden floor in the den, followed by the telltale tinkling of cinnamon cereal pouring into a bowl.

“He lives,” I muttered under my breath, rolling off the chair. Even if Ty wasn’t the best company in his current state, he was better than sitting alone.

Ty looked like he’d just crawled out of bed, with bleary eyes and his salmon pink mane a mussed mess—one long strand sticking straight up. His right arm was still in a sling, tightly bandaged, but he was getting around well enough on three legs now. He looked up and grunted a greeting from around a mouthful of his cereal.

That was more than he’d said to me in days. “How’s your shoulder?” I asked.

He didn’t respond until he’d finished chewing. “It’s been worse,” he eventually said, punctuating the statement with the crunch of his next bite.

“Better than before?”

He nodded, hints of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “So much better. Closed wounds suck a lot less than open ones.” He took another bite, talking around the food. “It still hurts if I move it, but compared to a week ago? I hardly feel a thing.”

I nodded. “That’s good.” He must have been feeling better if he was willing to talk now. Overall, Ty certainly looked better than he did when I first saw him on that ship. He was back to his normal grooming routine and was a lot fresher, even with a mane full of bedhead. Physically, he was more or less his old self, but there was something that didn’t quite seem right. For a guy who’d just spent several days on bed rest, there were still some awfully dark circles under his eyes; when he wasn’t looking at me, his eyes wandered elsewhere in a long, unfocused stare.

I’d seen that sort of gaze once before. Several years back, a few guards had come into Grandpa Gruff’s store back in Griffonstone. They were only stopping in for some supplies, and I helped them load their stuff into their cart. They didn’t say a word to me and had that same sort of gaunt stare into the distance that Ty did. Gruff told me later that they came from the southern border in an area called the Cervidian Wood. Deer vastly outnumbered griffons in that farthest reach of the Griffon Empire, and had decided that they wanted independence. The fighting had been going on longer than I had been alive, and only in the last few years did it come to an end when the griffons lost.

Despite my burning curiosity, I knew better than to needle Ty for answers. Still, I was curious about what had happened—about who had attacked him. The official statement I’d heard from Cedar Breeze referred to it as “an incident”. It was an attack, I was sure of it. How else would his ship be full of cannonball holes? I couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been trying to sail back with that kind of damage, but the big questions on my mind concerned who did it and why.

Those questions were way above my pay grade, though, and it didn’t really matter all that much if I got answers to them. After all, what was the trash griffon gonna do?

“So how’d it go with you?” he said, cutting off my train of thought.

“With what?”

“You know”—he bounced his eyebrows—“the other night? You and her?”

“Oh, that.” Sometimes I wanted to shout from the treetops that Silverstream was now my girlfriend, but Ty was just about the only person who knew. Well, at least from me. Silverstream had probably told half the mountain already. “Yeah, it was good.”

“Did you ask her out?”

“Uh, kind of?”

He deadpanned. “What do you mean? You did or you didn’t, dude.”

“I dunno. The whole conversation was such a mess,” I chuckled, scratching the back of my head. “But it did end with a kiss on the cheek, so I guess it went well?”

Ty smirked and reached out for a claw bump. “Doesn’t matter how the ball gets there, just as long as it passes the goal line. Nice work.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Sure was a good effort on my part, avoiding Silverstream so hard that I circled back around and somehow got a girlfriend anyway. “Everything good with you and Diamond? I haven’t seen her in a few days.”

Ty sighed around the food he was chewing. “We’re back to normal,” he said, but his expression soured. “I’m sure she’s just busy.”

“What does she do?” I wondered aloud.

“That’s up to her.”

I almost protested the odd reply to my question before it dawned on me. Maybe that explained why Diamond sounded sad the last time I’d seen her. Had something gone down between them while Silverstream and I were talking? That would also help explain why he’d been so short with me for the past week.

Either way, Ty was sore about more than just his wound, and I didn’t need to tick him off by asking unwanted questions. At least I could pivot to the big thing I needed at the moment: advice.

“Huh, yeah,” I said awkwardly. “Uh, you go out to clubs and parties a lot, right?”

“When I can,” he replied, shooting a significant glance at his shoulder. “Why?”

“I’ve been living the hermit life for a while, just wanting to have a little fun. You know, like that rave we went to?”

Ty raised an eyebrow and his smirk came back. “Oh really? I didn’t think you liked it that much.”

“Yeah, it was actually a really good time. Do you know if there’s anything happening tonight?”

He wiped at his beak and cleared his throat. “I’m a little out of the loop right now, but I bet there’s something over at Meistra’s again. That or there’s this other club down by the shoreline called ‘Neon Oyster’ that’s pretty solid.”

“Meistra’s sounds good,” I said. “I bet Silverstream would love it there.”

“Totally,” said Ty. “Just be ready to dance this time. She was mad that she missed your first time there.”

I grimaced as a memory of the dance class we’d taken flashed through my mind. “Awesome, I’ll do that. I wish you could come with me.” I nodded toward his shoulder. “But… you know.”

He followed my eyes and frowned. “Yeah, probably not the best idea.”

“Yeah, and if you didn’t hurt yourself at the club, Diamond would probably do it for you when she found out.”

It was like the air sucked out of the room as I realized what I’d just said. Ty scowled as his ears flattened back on his head, and he quickly finished his bowl of cereal in tense silence. Once he finished chewing, he turned to me. “You know what? Screw it. I’ll go.”

The sudden shift in his demeanor was a bit disconcerting. “You sure?”

Ty laughed, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been cooped up on a ship for a couple of weeks and now my room. I think I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t cut loose a little.”

“I don’t know, I’d really hate for you to get hurt because of me.”

“I know my limits,” he said flatly. “I’ll take it easy, maybe just go get a drink and listen to some music. Nothing crazy, alright?”

I opened my beak to protest again but stopped as the thought of drinks crossed my mind. The smugglers will probably be there. I could find out more about their operation, maybe see if they were interested in buying what I was making. Suddenly, this had become a business trip.

“Well, alright then,” I said, though I wasn’t totally convinced. It hadn’t been a full week since he was in surgery. Without thinking, I blurted “What if Diamond hears about—”

His smirk hardened into a scowl. “She’s not in charge of me,” he snapped. “If I say I’m good, I’m good. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, backing up a step.

Just as quickly as he’d gotten angry, Ty relaxed again. He stood up and dropped his cereal bowl in the sink. “I’m gonna clean myself up, and then we’ll go. Ten minutes.”

With Ty off to his room to get ready, I went back up to mine. If I was going to find the smugglers tonight, I’d better have a sample ready.


Pulsating music and the smell of smoke rushed over me like a tidal wave the moment we stepped through the blacked-out doors of the nightclub. The only big difference this time was the patrons weren’t glowing in the dark. Meistra’s was less intense than I remembered—still loud, not the kind of place I would usually seek out, but more palatable this time around.

“What do you…?” I asked. Ty had been behind me just a moment ago. I did a spin looking for him, only to just catch a glimpse of his pale red tail disappearing around the corner to the dance floor. I almost went after him, but on second thought, having him occupied elsewhere made accomplishing my business goals easier. I could just catch up with him later.

I ruffled my wings to make sure the flask of stackberry wine I’d brought with me was still there. The narrow aisle that ran along the far side of the dance floor was a bit less intimidating than I remembered it. Surely the bootleggers I’d encountered last time wouldn’t be in the same place. They’d have to stay mobile if they wanted to stay ahead of the law, right?

Apparently not. The little back room they had been in last time had a tan hippogriff with spiky hair and a black jacket at the doorway, standing watch. They raised an eyebrow when they saw me come around the corner.

“You’re back,” they observed.

I was almost surprised at their memory, but then I remembered that I was just about the only griffon in this city. Of course I was memorable.

“Yep, couldn’t stay away,” I said, pulling out a few coins from my pouch. The sentry stepped aside, letting me into the little smuggler’s den. The setup was about the same, three hippogriffs sitting around an open-topped barrel in a large closet with a swinging lamp overhead. They all perked up when I stepped in, and the light of recognition flashed through the red one in the middle’s eyes.

“The griffon’s back!” he said, a smile lighting up across his face as he nudged the blue hippogriff to his left. “See? I told you he’d come back. Griffons can’t stay away from booze.” He turned to me. “Think you’ll make it through the whole cup this time?”

Game face on. I smirked and produced ten bits. “Won’t be a problem,” I said. The blue griff took the coins from me, and the one in the middle passed me a plastic cup full of dark… wine? It sure smelled stronger than wine. A quick sip didn’t answer the question any better; the taste was just bitter and a little sour.

“What is this stuff, anyway?” I asked, forcing a gulp of it down.

“Trade secret,” said Red with flat eyes.

I forced my way through the swill, noting how intense the burn was once it landed in my stomach. “It’s got a lot of bite to it,” I noted. “What’s the proof on this?”

The three hippogriffs exchanged glances at each other as they all tensed, then the pink one on my left fixed me with an accusatory glare. “You want proof of what, exactly? Are you a cop?”

I didn’t have to guess that there were weapons in the room. I swallowed hard but kept a calm smile on my face. “It’s a fancy way of saying how much alcohol is in it. Like a percentage. I’m guessing that stuff is pretty high.”

The griffs seemed to relax a bit but still eyed me suspiciously. “What does it matter?” asked Red.

“Just curious. I think you might sell more drinks if it didn’t taste like—” I tried to think of a polite way to describe the drain cleaner in the cup, but none came to mind and I settled for “—that.”

Red frowned. “If you don’t like what we got, good luck finding a drink anywhere else in this town.”

It was my turn to smirk. “If I may,” I said, lifting my left wing to reveal the silver flask tucked under it. “I might be able to help you with that.”

“What’s that?” asked Pink.

“A sample.” I offered the flask to Red.

His eyes flicked to it, then back to me. “You first.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, but I obliged, pouring a bit of my wine into my mouth without touching it to my beak. Directly comparing it to the smugglers’ product, I felt a little more convinced of my own success. Even without being properly aged, mine was quite a bit more pleasant.

Satisfied that I wasn’t poisoning him, Red took the flask from me and smelled it before taking a swig. I watched his face for a reaction, but it wasn’t quite the ‘I’m impressed!’ face I was looking for. He scrunched up his brow slightly, taking another look at the flask. “It’s a little sour,” he noted, passing the flask to Pink. “Where’d you get that?”

“I made it myself. A secret recipe from the ancient city of Griffonstone.” Talking about the hole I crawled out of in endearing terms almost made me gag, but maybe it would sound exotic enough to them.

“They’ve got stackberries in Griffonstone?”

I shook my head. “Modified for the ingredients I can get here, but the process is the same.”

“Ah, smart.” Red nodded, watching as Pink tossed the flask to Blue. Their reactions were easier to read, and I could tell from their little glances back and forth that they had enjoyed it. “Not bad,” said Blue.

“And that’s not even properly aged,” I added. “Give it a month or two, you’d be able to serve that to Queen Novo herself.”

“It’s pretty good,” said Red. “So what, you looking to sell to a seller?” he asked.

“Something like that,” I said. “I’m thinking more like a partnership for distribution. I provide you with my wine, one batch per week. You sell it, we split the profits sixty-forty.”

Red chuckled and smirked at me. “Sixty-forty, huh? How’d you arrive at that figure?”

“I’m doing most of the labor, so I get a bigger cut,” I explained. “It’s more than fair. You sell your… current stock—” I had to consciously stop myself from calling it fermented dumpster juice “—for ten bits a cup. I’m guessing you get about a hundred cups per barrel, give or take. A thousand bits, but let’s be honest, the quality is lacking. I can provide you with better wine to sell which will fetch a higher price, and without all the hassle of making it yourself.”

Red raised his eyebrows, “You’re smarter than you look, I’ll give you that.” He traded looks with his compatriots. “But you gotta remember I’ve got overhead. I gotta pay my griffs. I got rents to pay. I take the sixty, you take the forty.”

“Fifty nine-forty one,” I countered with a stern look.

“Ain’t that just like a griffon to drive a hard bargain,” said Red. “Tell you what, I’m feeling pretty generous today. Fifty five-forty five, final offer.” He held out his talons for a shake.

I took a second to consider. It was within the acceptable range for me, but only barely. After a few moments of feigning deep thought, I reached out and shook his talons. “Deal.”

“Great,” said Red. “And I assume you have a batch ready to go?”

I nodded. “Just let me know when and where, and I’ll have it there.”

“Twelve-thirty in the morning. Safehouse by the south wall.” He wrote an address out on a slip of paper and passed it to me. “Don’t let anyone see you on the way there. I’ll let my griffs know to expect you.”

I nodded, and with my head held high, I walked out of the little closet feeling like I’d just closed the deal of the century. My thoughts swam with the piles of bits I was going to make off of this. A couple of months of hard work, and I’d be set for the rest of the year. Fancy dinners, Silverstream dressed up with clothes and jewelry I could buy her. I hadn’t ever thought about buying jewelry before. Would she like that sort of thing?

A better question was: who wouldn’t like to have fancy things?

I left Meistra’s and immediately took to the air, making a beeline back toward home. I needed to be ready. What time was it? It was after dark, and I’d been at Meistra’s for maybe twenty minutes. Ten-ish? I still had a few hours. I needed to find a way to move that heavy pot of wine across town in time.

I burst into the apartment and immediately began hunting for something that rolled. I searched high and low in the kitchen and den, to no avail. I already knew that my room had nothing to help, and neither did the bathroom pit. Was I really going to have to go down to the markets and hope I could find a dolly to borrow?

Well, there was one more place in the house I hadn’t checked. It felt kind of slimy, but I let myself into Ty’s room in the hope that he’d have something. When I stepped in, I was struck by how different it was. The last time I’d been in there, it had been tidy and well-kept, if a bit packed with stuff. Now, it was just a mess. Lots of things that had been on the shelves were now carelessly strewn about the floor. His bed was unmade. The smell of smoke lingered in the air.

One thing that was the same was the lizard cage. Sassafrass sat on top of her log, sunning herself under a heat lamp. Then I noticed the terrarium and the cabinet under it rested atop a few small black wheels.

Cautiously, I inspected the wheels. It would be a rough ride, but it would probably get me to the drop-off. I bumped the cabinet, and lucky for me, it budged. The wheelbase was a separate piece.

Jackpot. Taking care not to totally upend the poor spineback lizard’s entire life, I took the glass terrarium and transferred it to his bed, and then with some difficulty shimmied the cabinet off of the rollers.

“Sorry, Sassy,” I muttered, replacing her terrarium back atop the cabinet that was now significantly less mobile. “I need these more than you do.”

Sassafrass tilted her head at me, blinking slowly.

I decided that it meant she gave me her blessing to use the wheels. It wasn’t like I was keeping them. For next week’s batch, I could find a better system to transport it. The wheels would be back under her cage by tomorrow at the latest. Hopefully, Ty wouldn’t be too mad I’d gone into his room without asking first.

I raced across the house with the wheels and placed them next to the unassuming clay pot in the corner of my barren bedroom. It was far from a perfect fit, but with careful balancing, I would be able to roll my pot of gold to the end of the rainbow.

“Meh, weak metaphor,” I muttered under my breath. I checked my alarm clock for the time, which read ten fifty-eight.

An hour and a half to go. I’d have to take the side streets and avoid being seen. If I wanted to get there on time, I needed to get moving now.

Moments like this made me glad that a ramp led up to my room and not stairs, because rolling the pot down into the den was a snap. All I had to do was keep it from speeding out of control and smashing into the sofa. With that first obstacle cleared, I began pushing the cart toward the door, but when I was about halfway across the den, the latch clicked.

My stomach did a somersault as I stopped dead in my tracks. Caught in the act on my first attempt? What were the chances?

The door opened and Diamond walked in, her eyebrows raising ever so slightly in surprise. “Hey Gallus,” she said. “What’s with the pottery?”

“Diamond! What’s… uh, are you doing? Here?” Normally, I was good at passing things off with nonchalance, but she’d caught me off guard in complete panic mode. Without thinking, I stepped between her and the wine pot—a move voted ‘least likely to avoid suspicion’ since the dawn of time. “Now?” I croaked.

She stared at me in wide-eyed confusion for a moment, then blinked. “If you’re that nervous about it, I’m probably much happier not knowing.” She stepped past me and into the kitchen. “Is Ty here?”

My heart was pounding in my ears so loudly that I almost didn’t hear her. “Uh… no. He’s out right now.”

Diamond frowned, her wings sagging a bit. “I knew he wouldn’t sit still for long. Please tell me he’s not out at a party.”

I didn’t respond immediately, and that told her everything she needed to know. “That dumb sack of feathers,” she muttered. From under her right wing, she took out a small package of white paper. “I’ve got his medicine, I’m gonna go leave it in his room. I’m guessing you’re gonna have whatever that is gone by the time I come back down.”

I nodded and she huffed a quiet laugh, heading up the ramp. I got back to work, pushing my payload toward the door. It was a rickety system and I’d be lucky to get it down the steps out front without breaking the pot. Next time I’d have to—

Another rush of panic shot through me as two hooded figures in black robes appeared in the doorway, blocking my path. Both of them held long, wickedly curved knives.



When I headed to Meistra’s, I had hoped that it would be a rave night or something intense. As my luck would have it, it was Wednesday. A weeknight. Plain old pop music greeted me when I walked in the door. Upbeat, easily palatable songs with lyrics about how great the party is and how being young is the best thing ever. The dance floor was half empty and the griffs that were out there were hardly even paying attention to the music. The ones that weren’t having shouted conversations over the beat looked bored. It felt more like a prom than a nightclub, but it would have to do.

It probably would have helped if I knew what day it was before we left. Everything had kind of run together since I returned to port.

Once I recovered from my surgery enough to make it home, the doctors gave me a bottle of pain pills and sent me on my way. Those had helped the last few days blur into one, and every time my mind circled back to Di and how I was an idiot for thinking I could be more than just a toy to her—another pill brought back the comfortable numbness. The bottle was supposed to last a week, but I finished it in four days. Now my mind was clear.

The last thing I needed right now was the ability to think. A dull ache still thrummed in my shoulder, but the real pain was in my head. Even with painkillers, I hadn’t slept well the last few nights. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw faces. Sailors I’d bunked with for years. My gunner’s mate. Captain Virga. Not as I knew them in life, but as I saw them in death. Missing limbs. Covered in blood. Faces contorted and frozen in pain as they had been in their final second of life.

Without drugs to make it go away, I needed something to take my mind elsewhere. There wasn’t much dancing happening, so I gravitated toward the music.

Come closer to me.

This song at least had a bit more of a sensual edge to it than the last one. I liked it. Even if a little generic and simple, it was also comfortable. Familiar.

I want to feel your body on me.

Even if I liked the music, it wasn’t enough. I needed more. In a trance, I walked closer to the wall of speakers that flanked the dance floor.

I want to feel everything.

I stopped in front of the speakers. Up close, I could feel the vibration of the sound waves against my skull.

Come closer to me.

It wasn’t loud enough. I closed my eyes and leaned forward just as the bass line came in.

BrrrrrrOMPboomBOMPOP.

The bass hit in thumps. The treble clawed at my ears. The details of the song melted into a roiling plasma of sound. My ears stung with every beat. I’d probably regret this in the morning, but I didn’t care. For a few moments, the sounds of cannonfire ringing in my ears were replaced with something else.

For that moment, it was… enough.

A few songs passed like that, with me leaning close enough to kiss the speaker. It was easy to forget everything wrong with the world when all your brain could comprehend was the insane amount of noise being crammed into your skull. From the chaos came a moment of strange serenity.

But before long, the music lost its intensity. High-pitched ringing took over as my ears hit their limit. It was more constant and predictable than a firehose of audio blasting me in the head. Through the haze of tinnitus, thoughts started creeping back in.

…could have saved them all…

Recoiling, I pulled my head back. The music receded, replaced almost entirely by the ringing. My ears felt like they’d been drilled out. I had to find something else to get my mind elsewhere.

…should have sent more scouts…

The dance floor was spinning around me. Apparently, getting boomed point-blank by a subwoofer was just as disorienting as it was painful.

because of me…

I shivered as I stumbled toward the exit. It felt like someone was shouting at me from across the room, but it was all coming from inside my head.

my fault…

In my daze, I was looking all around instead of where I was going. As I made it into the lobby, I bumped into something solid and warm.

“Hey!” said a voice that, despite being partly drowned out by the ringing, reached in and shut off the faucet of acidic thoughts. “Watch yourself!”

I whirled around and came face to face with a pale orange hippogriff with a beautifully sharp and polished beak. He was tall and slender, nearly my height. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of where I was going.”

“No worries.” He smiled and laughed smoothly, but that slowly turned into a brow creased with concern the longer he looked at me. “You good?”

His ashy gray eyes gleamed with an easy confidence that dared me to come a little closer. I knew where this conversation was going. I’d been there many times before. He would be the distraction I was looking for.

I put on my best smile. “I’m good. What’s your name?”

Comments ( 25 )

I needed to get out and do something, but had no idea where to go or what to do. So I did what any self-respecting griffon would in that situation: I sat and stared at the ceiling.

Yes, because that's so much better than reading. :trollestia: At least with the reading, you're actually doing something, and a productive something at that.

Those questions were way above my pay grade, though, and it didn’t really matter all that much if I got answers to them. After all, what was the trash griffon gonna do?

You keep saying that, but every time you do you just end up jinxing yourself all the more, y'know. :raritywink:

“It’s got a lot of bite to it,” I noted. “What’s the proof on this?”

The three hippogriffs exchanged glances at each other as they all tensed, then the pink one on my left fixed me with an accusatory glare. “You want proof of what, exactly? Are you a cop?”

Dudes. I don't even drink myself and even I know what proof is. Oi.

These guys actually could really stand some input from someone a bit more in the know like Gallus, because it's clear to me now that they're just sort of...faking it until they make it with their...product, shall we say. :ajsmug:

My thoughts swam with the piles of bits I was going to make off of this. A couple of months of hard work, and I’d be set for the rest of the year. Fancy dinners, Silverstream dressed up with clothes and jewelry I could buy her. I hadn’t ever thought about buying jewelry before. Would she like that sort of thing?

Now don't get too carried away with the pet gifts, Gallus. Sil's likely to shrug off most of your to-be-added income as just the navy paying better than she first thought--or that you got some kind of raise--and probably not think too hard about it, but only if you don't give her reason to. Get too overzealous, and she'll start wondering where you're getting all those bits from, and that's probably not a road you want her going down. After all, she might have objections about your newfound business venture.

...either that or surprise me and excitedly want to try and get in on your racket too. She has occasionally not always reacted as I would've initially expected her to in this story before, so for all I know, this could be another of those times. She has, after all, attended raves before, so since that seems to be a good place to get this sort of stuff, there's always the chance she's imbibed before now and as such may be all onboard for the rumrunning business.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves here. First get your stock to your buyer without incident then we'll go from there. I fully expect the shoe to drop on this scheme sooner or later, and actually transporting the stock for the first time seems like an excellent chance for it to do so.

Heck, that "shoe" could always come in the shape of Silverstream herself. Wouldn't that be a complication and a half for Gallus? :trixieshiftright:

Another rush of panic shot through me as two hooded figures in black robes appeared in the doorway, blocking my path. Both of them held long, wickedly curved knives.

Well, that was sooner than I expected. I'd figured he'd at least get out the door first.

The bottle was supposed to last a week, but I finished it in four days.

Ooh, no, let's not go ODing on those, Ty. :twilightoops:

…should have sent more scouts…

Given how it all went down, Ty, I doubt it would've helped much. To be honest, it was all a bit of a Kobayashi Maru scenario--no matter what you did, there was always going to be the potential for a lot of lost life no matter what. I know that doesn't exactly help you cope with that fact, but it's at least something to help keep from blaming it all on solely yourself, because that's not true at all--you did pretty much everything you could've in that situation, except, of course, not go into the situation altogether, but at that time you weren't the one making the final call.

Honestly, it'd probably be better that he focused on the fact that he managed to help get as many out of there alive as he did, saving the ship (albeit quite battered) as well, because it very nearly ended with not even that being possible. He's darn lucky it even ended as well as it did.

But I know guilt and PTSD don't exactly like to focus on the silver linings of things. :fluttershysad:

Still...as ill-advised as it all is, at least Ty's trying to do something about it. I know of too many that wouldn't even bother to do that much.

Great to see another chapter!

What’s Gallus going to turn into when the hippogriffs need him to go underwater?

Another banger!

11611491

Now don't get too carried away with the pet gifts, Gallus. Sil's likely to shrug off most of your to-be-added income as just the navy paying better than she first thought--or that you got some kind of raise--and probably not think too hard about it, but only if you don't give her reason to. Get too overzealous, and she'll start wondering where you're getting all those bits from, and that's probably not a road you want her going down. After all, she might have objections about your newfound business venture.

...either that or surprise me and excitedly want to try and get in on your racket too. She has occasionally not always reacted as I would've initially expected her to in this story before, so for all I know, this could be another of those times. She has, after all, attended raves before, so since that seems to be a good place to get this sort of stuff, there's always the chance she's imbibed before now and as such may be all onboard for the rumrunning business.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves here. First get your stock to your buyer without incident then we'll go from there. I fully expect the shoe to drop on this scheme sooner or later, and actually transporting the stock for the first time seems like an excellent chance for it to do so.

Heck, that "shoe" could always come in the shape of Silverstream herself. Wouldn't that be a complication and a half for Gallus? :trixieshiftright:

The idea of Silverstream getting in on bootlegging during the hippogriff prohibition, is pretty funny to me.
Especially since she's royalty, and thus supposed to be part of upholding the law.

I got back to work, pushing my payload toward the door. It was a rickety system and I’d be lucky to get it down the steps out front without breaking the pot. Next time I’d have to—

Another rush of panic shot through me as two hooded figures in black robes appeared in the doorway, blocking my path. Both of them held long, wickedly curved knives.

Even though the hippogriff prohibition is displaying the same crimes and violence as the American prohibition.

*refreshes Tracking page*
:pinkiegasp:
*Set Sail updated today/within the past 24 hours*:pinkiehappy:

:yay:FUCK YEAH!

11611505
He kinda goes shark mode when he gets transformed. This was touched on in the last scene of Chapter 15. For reference - https://derpibooru.org/images/2391472?q=gallstream

Good chapter. glad to see this story is still kicking. but each chapter just makes me want more. So good work.

11611902
Auto-correct turned "story" into "sorry".

oh hell yeah monumental W chapter

Silver: Gallus you can’t make wind that’s illegal
Gallus: that doesn’t sound very cash money if you silverstream.

So we got Gallus who’s either about to be arrested or assassinated. Either way it does not look good.can’t wait to see how he gets outta this one
And Tye’s getting hit by the ago old survivors guilt. Poor guy.

There’s a reason I keep one foot in the door in this community, and it’s because of stories like these. Keep up the good work! Each chapter gets better and better!

I'm still not sure whether they've just poisoned Seaspray.

11614616
Haha yeah I'm just gonna level with you here, the ships in this story are not going to be 100% accurate to real life. I don't know enough about ships to achieve that, so we're just inventing our own timeline of technological innovation here. My explanation for it in the story is that the navy's sailing ships have been retrofitted with experimental propulsion systems of various designs and fuel sources. My explanation for it outside of the story is that I wanted a burning oil slick for dramatic effect.

11611505
Dead it seems, if the hooded figures have anything to say about it.
Likely well-dressed in a set of special shoes.

11614529
If that's the case, Novo picked a great week to stop drinking! :ajsmug:

11611491
I can't wait until I get to write a happy Ty scene again, but it might be a while before that happens. He's got a lot of processing left to do.

11611794
Y'know, since the rumrunning all first came up in the story, I've actually been trying very hard to not make any direct Lackadaisy references? Low hanging fruit and all that. :derpytongue2:

I expect Jack doesn't intend to take the story in quite that same direction...but it is kinda fun to think about nonetheless. :ajsmug:

It's neat to see Gallus' progression from the last chapter not knowing about swimming at all and being very tentative about it to now loving swimming.

Also really nice to see what's going on with Ty's recovery and looking forwards to seeing more of it. The diplomatic angle was surprisingly enjoyable to read as well and sets up potential scenarios for later.

Gallus really is a bit of an idiot here though; perhaps understandable being a cocky teen. But getting into illicit brewing really was silly. The risk is incredible, as he's probably about to find out. Not just from the gangsters but also when others find out about it he is not going to have a good time; being there as a personal favour from the Queen.

It's probably going to very seriously strain his blooming relationship with Silverstream. Somewhat ironic since he wants to use the proceeds for her. It is a neat underpinning of his insecurities though as a poor orphan from Gryphonstone trying to match up to a literal princess.

Honestly that's one of my favourite things to see in Gallstream stuff and how different stories approach him overcoming it and realise that Silverstream likes him for who he is, not what he can get her materially.

Also, I have to apologise for leaving it so late to read this update, my life's been extremely hectic lately.

Anybody else imagine Ty with a British accent?

I can't wait until the next update, feel like it'll be great. Looking forward to seeing what these cultist looking Griffs want. Also the development of Ty's PTSD.

But also, can wait, don't rush, please.

Comment posted by The_Jackal deleted March 2nd

11840021
Still chipping away at things, but it's in between many other things that require my time and attention. Still here, still writing, just very sporadically. New chapter is about half done.

11857736
Thank you just forgot the details after he was introduced.

11869817
I understand your reasoning but here is a idea they could have had just some of them transformed to seaponies and fought from under the water and the rest of the crew could have defended the ship.

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