8. Homesick
AUTHORS NOTE: While you're waiting for the next intstallment of Banishment Decree, check out the utterly fantastic Mare-Do-Well fiction Eyes Without a Face, which barely gets a tenth of the recognition it deserves. It's thrilling, gloriously dark and comes off like a gut-punch made of purest noir, and I'd like to think it's quite a big influence on my story. Go give it some love!
Now, on with the story:
Trixie's safehouse is a run-down, grungy apartment in Lichen End, one of the cheaper neighbourhoods in Fillydelphia. It's in a gigantic tower block filled with students at the technical college and university, single parents and alcoholics. The landmare gives Trixie free run of one of her shittier apartments for almost nothing, in exchange for getting her out of trouble with a loan shark last year and for supplementing her income with the odd moon dust shipment. The tiny studio apartment is a dilapidated hole, with paint flaking off the walls, huge patches of mould and the lingering stink of rotten onions. Still, it suits its purpose. There are a few bedrolls in case a team needs a place to lay low, a box of Royal Guard issue MREs, a closet of arcane reagents, tools and clothes, a well-locked weapon cabinet; anything a shiftless jack-of-trades like Trixie might need that can't be traced back to her.
I'm here to visit Smedley Puddinghead, 'Puddie' to his friends; of which he has twelve less than the last I saw him. He's a beady-eyed, chubby and cowardly ex-bureaucrat who earns money by making sure things run smoothly for smugglers, traffickers and more recently, slavers. That third one has him right on our shit-list. He's curled up asleep on a bedroll, strands of strawberry pink mane over his face, surrounded by empty MRE packets, juice boxes and dirty magazines. I stroll over to him and give his pudgy brown frame a nudge. He murmurs and makes a cute little mewling sound like a kitten, but doesn't stir.
I drive my fist hard into his liver. It gets his attention.
He's now very awake, clutching his side and dry heaving, not even trying to hold back tears. As soon as he sees me, his tiny, sunken eyes fill with fear and loathing. I wait for him to stop retching. “...you broke a rib” he gasps.
I give him a flat look. “Your ribs are fine, chickenshit,” I say, “Now get the fuck up, you have work to do.”
He gets to his hooves and looks at me like a sullen yearling. “Does this mean I get to leave this dump?” he asks in his whiny, nasal voice, “I can barely breath for the mould and the water coming out of the taps is-” I cut him off by backpawing him across the muzzle. He looks at me, stunned. He opens his mouth to say something and I raise my paw, causing him to flinch back and whimper.
“I'll tell you the same thing I told your mother,” I say, “ I pulled your face out of my flank because I'm done pissing, not because I want to hear every stupid thought that comes into your fat skull. Now get in the bathroom and stick this dye in your mane and tail.” I pull a bottle of charcoal dye from my saddlebags and toss it over to him. He catches it and freezes up for a second, before hurrying into the bathroom with his tail between his legs.
I head over to Trixie's supply closet and start rummaging around for a toolbox. There's a big red one in the corner, I pick it up and haul it over to the countertops in the kitchenette. In a few minutes there's a vise set up with a slip stone poking out the top. It's been a while since I've given Leroy any special treatment, and I always feel guilty if I don't give my knives the TLC they deserve. I take out a bottle of mineral oil, dab a spot onto my paw-pad and gently rub it into the slip stone. Then, I take Leroy from his sheath and trail a claw over the flat of his blade. He's been cleaned since his last outing and is looking pretty pleased with himself.
I've had the handsome little bastard since just before Toi Thung. We've been through a lot together, and though I ain't monogamous with my knives, Leroy holds a special place in my heart. I never marred him with notches like other warriors would, the only imperfections on his sleek, phosphatized finish are from use and from sharpening. Leroy is a kerambit and curves inwards like a talon, so he needs a gentle touch when he's being sharpened. Before I set his edge to the slip stone, I bring the flat of his blade to my beak and give him a little kiss. He did well on our last outing, and he deserves it. I get to work and draw the blade edge along the whetstone, moving it in lots of small circles as I do. This goes on for a few minutes on both sides, before I hear the shower turn on and a yelp from Puddie. “Gilda, there's no hot water in this place!” he yells.
“It's ten Celsius outside, grow some ovaries!” I yell back, “If you're not out of that shower with dyed hair in ten minutes I'll shove your balls up your flankhole and see if that does the trick.” He shuts up, and the shower comes back on. Ponies, honestly. I get back to sharpening Leroy. The rubberised cloth around the handle is getting a bit frayed at the edges, but it does the trick and doesn't need replacing just yet. It makes him look rugged.
I don't mark him, but I've got a little sheet of paper with his score on it. He hit forty-four at the flophouse. Sometimes I think of retiring Leroy. Putting him on a stand in a nice glass cabinet next to his score-paper, so I don't have to see him broken in the field, or lost in some desperate scramble to retreat. But that's silly, like a parent wrapping up their cub in swaddling, afraid to let it out in the world. Leroy's place is next to me. I'll be with him when he breaks, and if I get killed, I hope he's buried in my shallow grave too. I keep sharpening, listening to the little scrt-scrt-scrt sounds he makes with every small circle.
A few minutes later he's done. I clean him off with a cloth, put away the tools and sit around waiting for Puddie. I double check the letters that Twilight and Pinkie made up, make sure I've got the address list, and set out the blue Postal Service uniform that Puddie will be wearing. Hopefully it fits. Puddie then steps out of the bathroom, shivering. I don't know if it's the cold or the fear. It's probably both.
“So here's what's going down,” I say, “We broke into that flophouse you were telling us about, freed all the mares and brutally murdered all the Kurierzy working there.” Puddie's face is a mask of fear, but he doesn't look surprised. “Now, our friend Goodflank is going to find out if he hasn't already, and since you knew about the house and where it was, he'll be checking up on you,” I continue, “Which is why we went to your place, made it look like you'd left town for Manehattan and planted some papers that suggest you're heavily in the pocket of another EIS agent.”
His eyes go wide in horror, and I flash him a grin. “That's why it's probably best if no one recognises you on this job this evening. Stick those clothes on; between them and the dye, you'll probably be safe on your deliveries tonight,” I say.
He says nothing and glumly gets to work. The uniform is a little tight but it goes on, and soon enough we're out of the apartments. He has a bag of mail and a list of addresses, I'm flying well above to make sure he gets to them. It starts raining hard as soon as we set off. All the addresses we're delivering to are in nicer areas of town. I'm in the air soaked to the bone for an hour before we reach the first, a nice townhouse owned by a certain bent accountant.. I take up a position on a cloud, watch Puddie go up to the door, slip the mail through the slot, walk away. Twenty minutes to the next, the lawyer's place, same deal. Then the drug dealer, and so on.
Several addresses later, it's one in the morning and I'm making sure Puddie gets back to the apartment in one piece. I only let him dry off after I check that all the letters are gone. He curls back up on his bedroll like a whipped dog, and I leave him to his MREs and his porn.
I head back to the hotel in the rain. I'm soaked through when I get to the room. Dash and Trixie aren't back, so I towel off and head straight to bed. I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow.
:|:
~*~
~*~*~
~~*~*~*~~
It is a cold spring morning in the Western Peaks, ten kilometres from Griffhala, home of the Redbeaks. I’m perched on an outcropping of rock overlooking a small valley coated in dense scrub. My cousin Gretchen is next to me, cleaning sap off her bush knife. Our hunting party had spent the last half hour clearing twenty yards square of scrub from the valley and had turned the waste into a two foot high barrier at one end of the bare patch. Two other cousins, Terrence and Nigel, as well as my Uncle Scratchy, are all sat in an alcove on the other side of the valley forty odd yards away. I’m seventeen years old, on spring vacation from Junior Speedsters, out hunting with my cousins and a friend from flight camp.
Gretchen leans in close and whispers to me: “You sure your friend is up for this?”
I laugh quietly. “Please, she’s top of the year in manoeuvres. She can do this trick in her sleep.”
She scowls. “That ain’t what I meant. We’re turning critters into lunch. I’ve seen ponies get real funny when they see a little mess, and it’s about to rain kidneys, Gilda.”
“Rainbow Dash has seen me hunt and eat before, she knows the facts of life. I wouldn’t have brought her along otherwise.”
“A’ight, if you say so” she says, “But I ain’t the one gon' have to rock her to sleep tonight while she breaks down sobbing all ‘bout the blood and the guts and the horror of it all.”
Ah, Gretchen. She’s a good flier and knows her bushcraft back to front, but she’s Gretchen “Not My Fuckin’ Problem” Redbeak for a reason.
“Pfft, shut up Gretchen. She’ll be down here any second now anyways, I think I hear her now” I say.
A strange, crackling rumble comes from down the valley. I crane my neck and see a mass of dust and stormcloud billowing down the valley floor, electricity sparking through it. There is a blur of bright colour at the head of the speeding cloud. As it gets nearer, I see small bush fires being started by flashes of lightening. A hundred meters from us and the cyan-and-rainbow blur at the front of the cloud shoots straight upwards into the sky, leaving it behind. The rolling storm continues another seventy meters before dispersing. We ready our burlap sacks and see Uncle and the toms do the same. We wait ten seconds.
Three... Two... One
A screeching, chittering swarm of lemmings bursts into our clearing, piled three deep and fleeing the noise, fire and thunder. I cackle and dive from my perch into the trapped pile of critters, skewering lemmings by the pawful and shoving them roughly into my sack. The rest of the party are doing the same, whooping and squawking as they go. A few minutes later the living carpet thins out and our bags are full of dead or dying lemmings. I’m sweating and splattered with blood, but I feel incredible. I look up and see Rainbow Dash hovering above us, and fling a decapitated critter at her. She dodges it and gives me an over-the-top grossed out look, before shooting me a grin and laughing.
We’re back at our campsite, and I’m showing Dash the basics of griffon food prep.
“So you take the dead critter like so” I say, splaying one out at the edge of a stone slab, “Pin it by the head with one hoof, and with the other press down on the sternum and slide downwards like so...” As I did, a trickle of urine and a pellet of lemming crap came out. “Bam, no poo in the stew.”
“Yeah, gross,” she snarks, “Remind me why I get this totally awesome job and not you?”
“Because my job is taking off the heads and feet and that’s a lot easier with talons” I say, trying to keep a straight face.
“Oh, is that so Gilda?” says Gretchen with a twisted smile “Ah seem to recall that you get all squicked out by critter shit. You damn near go ‘tardshit if you get any on your claws, that’s why you paw the job off on one of us cats ain’t it?”
“Eat a dick Gretchen, that was last year I’ve totally changed since- MOTHER OF PISS!” I scream, as Dash flings a lump of crud at my face. “THAT IS NOT FUNNY DICKFEATHERS!” I say, before spewing a curseword-laced rant at Dash, Gretchen, and everyone else in earshot. Gretchen and Dash are on the floor laughing.
Uncle Scratchy turns around from the firewood he was chopping and fails at looking stern like only an uncle can. “Shush up and buck up mollies, quicker we get the prep done is the quicker we eat.”
“Yessir, Uncle Scratchy”
“Yessir, papa”
“Yessir, mister Scratchy”
Uncle Scratchy gives Rainbow Dash a cautious look. “RD, you sure you’re okay with helping? Ah know some ponies can get freaked by this sorta thing, you can come build the fire with me if you’re feeling off.”
If Dash has any reservations she hides them well. “Nah I’m cool, I’ve been with Gilda when she’s hunted before. I’ve got a ranger friend in Ponyville, we catch fish for some of the animals she looks after, this isn’t so different,” she says, with a calm look on her face.
Dash cleans, I chop, Gretchen skins, Terrence rubs the spices and Nigel makes the kebabs. Five minutes later and we have enough for dinner. While we wait for the spices to sink in and for Scratchy to build the fire, we all do the basic cleaning, chopping and skinning on the hundreds of critters before rigor mortis sets in. It’s fiddly work and we have to move fast, but we’ve gone through all the bags within the hour. Soon enough we’re sitting around the fire, with lemming kebabs for the griffons and a pepper and squash kebab for Rainbow Dash.
“Mare, this kebab is really good” says Dash, “What spices did you use?”
“Trade secret m’fraid” drawls Terrence. “Why, if ah let just anybird get ahold of mah recipe ah wouldn’t have a line of mollies outside my nest beggin’ for a beakful of my special meat now would ah? Windsake, I even known a few pegasi what like a taste of sausage from time to time” he says, giving Dash a huge wink. I throw a lemming head at him. “Ow! Dammit Gilda!”
“Don’t hit on my marefriend, dick-for-brains!” I yell.
Uncle Scratchy’s eyes light up. “Why Gilda, you never said you and Dash were marefriends” he lies.
“No wonder she ain’t worried bout getting eaten by scary griffons” says Terrence with a shit-eating grin “She’s getting eaten by a certain griffon already!” I dive towards him and start punching him in the face. He barely fights back, he bursts out laughing and just covers his face to stop me from breaking anything until Uncle Scratchy separates us. Gretchen and Nigel are rolling their eyes. Dash and Terrence are doubled over laughing.
We're soon back sitting around the campfire. Gretchen and Nigel are chattering about griffon politics and history like the dorks they are, Terrence is starting on the next course of food and Rainbow Dash is snuggled under my wing. Uncle Scratchy roots around in his bag, pulls out a plug of chewing tobacco and cuts a hunk off with his knife. Dash's head pokes up from under my wing.
“Woah, that's a sweet looking knife” she says, staring at the talon-shaped blade cradled in Uncle Scratchy's paw.
“Like it? Military issue karambit,” says my uncle, spinning the blade by the finger-hole. “Every griffon warrior is issued one after basic training. Strong construction, keen edge, claw hole for weapon retention. She's called Shona.”
“How come it's curved like that?” Dash asks.
“It used to be a tool for digging up snu-snu roots, the curve made digging around easier. Assassins and spies carried them as weapons because they could say they were just foragers if they got searched. After Meatball Mountain the griffon army-”
“Meatball Mountain?” asks Dash.
“That'd be the Battle of Peak Nine-Three-Seven, a hamlet of snu-snu farmers and a scouting-support base staffed by a squad of warriors and three dozen reservists. They got attacked by two hundred Diamond Dogs.” Uncle Scratchy pauses to pop his chew into his beak.
“What happened?” Dash was now sitting up attentively.
“They came up the mountain as dogs and went down it as meatballs.” Scratchy grins widely.
“Huh?” Dash has an eyebrow raised and looked confused “What do you mean they came down as- Oh. OH! Ewww!” She sticks her tongue out and makes a grossed-out face.
“Pfft, ponies” says Scratchy, rolling his single eye. “Anyway, the griffon army saw how practical they were for combat, and they're perfect for teaching griffon fighting philosophy. You use your opponent's defences to find their weak points.”
“How does that work?” asks Dash. Uncle Scratchy chuckles.
“I'll demonstrate. Gilda, if you please?”
I take out my blunt training karambit from cadet training and toss it to my uncle, then walk up to him and drop into griffon fighting stance. Uncle Scratchy slips his index talon through the claw hole, and the training blade sticks out from the bottom of his paw.
“You're a griffon warrior facing the enemy” he says in his Drill Sergeant voice, “You strike at the throat of your enemy, and they block with their front paws.” He swipes the training blade at my throat, and I barely block with a front paw. Quick as you blink he twists the blade, dragging it down my wrist, across the tendons at the elbow joint and upwards into the armpit.
“With a flick and a curve, you turn that block into two opened arteries, a severed tendon and a flayed pectoral. They can't move that limb to defend with it, and they'd bleed out within minutes even if they could.” Scratchy hands back my training karambit. “A good warrior does this in every fight. You make your enemy mass their forces in one location, so spies can slip into their borders and wreak havoc behind their lines. Retreat prematurely in battle, and swoop in on your enemy's flanks when their forces spread out. Let them waste their coffers on siege weaponry, and fight all of your battles outside of city walls.”
“That. Is. AWESOME!” says Dash, looking utterly enraptured. Her brow furrows suddenly. “Wait, that weapon works best against things that have forehooves like diamond dogs and other griffons right? But pony and zebra and camel forehooves are built the other way around, wouldn't that be kinda lame if you got into a fight with them?”
Uncle Scratchy laughs. “Gilda my dear, you've picked yourself a sharp little mollyfriend! You're right Dash, they're not useless for hooved types but they're better for claws 'n' paws. It ain't much of a problem though, griffons have the biggest problems with wyrmlings, minotaurs and dogs. The zebra are pals, we've got our methods for camels and we never, ever go to war with ponies.”
Nigel turns from his chat with Gretchen to face Scratchy, an angry look on his face. “Dad, that's total bullfeathers! What about Spring Valley-”
“That was a heated argument between a couple of platoons that got a little out of hand” Scratchy says, waving a paw to shush Nigel.
“Wait, Spring Valley?” says Dash, “My grandparents talk about that, there were a whole bunch of veterans in Cloudsdale who fought there-”
“There were barely two dozen fatalities on each side, I've seen barfights worse. When griffons make war, by the grace of Celestia it's not with ponies.”
I can practically see steam coming from Nigel's ears. “Oh sure, ponies don't call it war when they send scouting parties into marked griffon territories or supply arms and technomancy to our enemies, but the moment something kicks off anywhere near Equestrian borders it's suddenly a brutal confict...”
By Adune, I would do awful, disgusting things for Nigel to shut up about Griffon-Pony politics. Unforgivable things. Fortunately, Scratchy shuts him down.
“Spats and tussles, nothing more” he says sternly, “I don't want to hear none of that talk from you Nigel, y'hear? Specially not in front of our guest, it's downright rude.” Nigel rolls his eyes and mutters, but thankfully shuts his beak.
There's a lull in the conversation as Nigel goes back to chatting with Gretchen and Scratchy stuffs some more chew in his mouth. Dash pipes up and breaks the silence.
“How come griffons don't fight ponies? Griffons seem pretty...” she trails off, not knowing how to end the sentence without stepping in it.
“You mean all the talons and beaks and knives?” Scratchy says with a grin, “We don't go to war with ponies for a very good reason, but I'd have to give you a history lesson to explain it.” Dash makes a grossed-out face at the words 'history lesson'.
“Hey, it's griffon history babe” I say, nudging Rainbow Dash in the side. “Not like that boring crap they teach in Cloudsdale, we've got way more races and fights!”
Dash looks sceptical. “Well I'm all ears, but it better be awesome!”
Uncle Scratchy spits out some juice. Everyone gathers round the fire for story time, and Uncle Scratchy drops his voice to tell the old tale: “Let me tell you one of the greatest legends of the griffon race. Long ago, a thousand years before the banishment of Nightmare Moon, was an age of steel and adventure. Foul and mysterious beasts that are now sealed in the depths of Tartarus stalked the earth, causing great destruction wherever they tread. The nations of the world barely existed; and tribes and principalities skirmished and raided one another out of greed and spite. We griffons were surrounded by enemies. Devious camels wielding dark sorceries, savage minotaurs, mountain wyrmlings and hordes of barbaric diamond dogs were but a few of the opponents we faced. Even the Equestrians, which near every griffin clan shared a border with, had an uneasy peace and our shared borders were beset with both griffon and equine raiders.
“We did not have the living Godesses of the Equestrians, nor the djinn of the camels or the strange idols and fetishes of the zebras and the deer in their eastern jungles. Our only gods are Chingis and the Four Winds. Chingis is a bitter and moody goddess who sits on her great mountain, sending out dooms to anyone presumptuous enough to pray for her favour. But she gave griffons the will to survive and the strength to kill our enemies, and this is all we would ask for in a goddess. The Four Winds connect the earth and the endless sky and the realms beyond, but they heed our prayers no more than the grass heeds the ponies.
“We had no divine aid in this age of strife and sorcery; but we had four mighty heroes whose years of adventuring and exposure to strange magicks had given them near-immortality and legendary powers. These four and their companions turned the disparate tribes of griffondom into a true nation, and changed us from nomadic hunters to a true civilisation!
“First among these heroes was Zephyrous the Brutal. A lightening-quick giant with the strength of twenty griffons, he cleared the bandits from their nests in the Dural Mountains, routed the mercenaries and raiders that plagued our borders, reconquered lands that had been taken from us and claimed new lands, putting all races within them under the protection of the Griffon Kingdoms. He was a cunning and brutal tactician who turned the hunting parties of the many tribes into a fearsome fighting force.
“The second was Hoelun the Covetuous, the thief of knowledge. She was the polymath who founded our capital Condorcorum, created our education system and brought the griffons the gifts of the mind. On her orders our armies looted the libraries of every town and city they conquered, bringing back their scrolls and codices to the gigantic library in Condorcorum; and paid or coerced the scholars of these cities to come and teach at our capital. She held great symposia that brought together astronomers, cartographers, mathematicians, technomancers and alchemists from around the world, where they were offered access to our great libraries in exchange for copies of their texts and their teaching services.
“Third was Adune the Decadent, mistress of forgiveness, reconciliation and celebration. Her prowess with the guitar was fearsome; her shredding could inspire clashing armies to lay down their arms, terrify her opponents or whip her own forces into such a frenzy that they would ignore mortal wounds through sheer strength of will. She hosted an orgy that ended three wars, created alliances between four races, caused six dozen marriages and was so potent that the ground it was held on still causes raging erections and moist haunches in all that cross it. When she met the Royal Pony Sisters and their diplomatic delegation, they partied so hard that Condorcorum switched time zones and Zephyrous temporarily switched genders. So grand was the celebration that he was not even mad!
“Fourth was Young Zeyphr, Lord of Justice. He was a nemesis of all those who would harm the kingdom and its subjects, whatever their race or creed. When the rogue pegasus Colonel Typhoon committed a vile war crime against the Buckbeak tribe, slaughtering every tom and cub in the settlement before setting her stallions on the mollies, Young Zeyphr took a group of warriors deep into pegasus territory, kidnapped the Colonel and her entourage, and brought them back to the Kingdom. They were taken to a barren mountain, stabbed in the gut and left to bleed out for their crimes. He created Sinn Bird, our first spycraft organisation, who tracked down and murdered everypony else involved in the massacre. He travelled with the other heroes, acquiring sorcery and magical items allowing him to banish the otherworldly monsters that plagued the earth; and tamed Cerberus to guard their prison.
“The four heroes and their companions ushered in an age of prosperity to the Kingdoms that had never been seen before, lasting several hundred years. We became an educated nation and made wondrous advances in astronomy, technomancy and every other philosophy thanks to Hoelun. Our culture was enviable, and for a time our cities became the diplomatic nexuses of the world, where merchants and politicians could always expect to be well entertained by Adune and her disciples. The circles of sorcerers in the Sultanates did not place curses on the leaders of our clans and our allies, nor did the deer of Nainuoc kidnap griffons for the ransom at the edges of their jungles, for fear of having their throats torn out as they slept by Sinn Bird and Young Zephyr. No one dared attack our nation with Zephyrous leading our armies, and he kept the trade routes through our mountains clear, letting commerce prosper.
“But it was not to last. Centuries of exacting brutal vengeance on our foulest enemies and exposure to hellish beings and the dark arcana needed to defeat them had taken a toll on Young Zeyphyr. His heart blackened and he no longer sought to avenge those that had been wronged, only to satisfy his lust for blood and harm anybird he thought did not pay the Kingdoms sufficient fealty.
“One fateful night, he strode into the chambers of the Condorcorum ruling council and demanded they marshal forces to exterminate a group of itinerant, peaceable donkeys who had settled within griffon territory without first paying tribute to the nearest tribal chief. The council balked at this cruel demand, as there were many innocents in that settlement and a peaceful compromise could surely be reached. Young Zephyr flew into a rage, and told the council that they had shown themselves too cowardly to lead the nation, that the other three heroes had grown weak over the years, and that he would assume direct control of the Griffon Kingdoms. When the council protested, he slew them all to a bird.
“The other three heroes were not in the city, so Young Zephyr concocted a grisly plan to draw them out. He drew upon the eldritch energies of the demons he had defeated and the artifacts he had collected; and used them to summon a great horde of hellbeasts to his side. He allowed the Balegorgon to channel its vile being through him, and then lay waste to Condorcorum. He rent the warriors of the city apart twenty at a time with his great spectral claws as his demons killed everything around him. The slaughter was so dire that severed limbs rained from the skies, buildings were decorated with the hides of cubs, the great feasting hall was wrapped in the intestines of the dead. Young Zephyr tore down Hoelun's grand library, disintegrated Adune's favourite tavern and all the griffons in it, and slew Zephyrous' two youngest sons.
“The three heroes felt the psychic toll of Condorcorum, gathered what forces they could and went to confront Young Zephyr. They fought an impossible battle, as Young Zephyr was impossibly skilled at combat even before he turned, and was now a great eldritch dragon with the powers of the Balegorgon coursing through him. He threw his old friends around like cubs' toys and slaughtered their mortal companions, all powerful griffons in their own right, in front of their eyes. They could injure him, but could not kill him before he destroyed them utterly.
“Just as their defeat looked inevitable, Adune took her guitar and played the riff she wrote after Young Zephyr first swore to stop those that would harm the innocent. Something stirred within him, and he paused for just long enough for Hoelun to teleport the city's great standard-pole through his blackened heart. This blocked the portal between realms that the Balegorgon acted through, shifting Young Zephyr to his normal state. His mind cleared, and when he saw the enormity of what he had done, he broke down and wept, begging for forgiveness. He knew though, that as soon as the iron pole was removed from his chest, the portal would reopen and the Balegorgon would come into the world once more. He brought his old friends in close, and told them to annihilate him lest he turn back.
“In his last moments his friends forgave him, then Zephyrous channelled the earth and skies and all willpower bestowed by Chingis in all griffons' hearts, and directed this energy into his downed friend, destroying Young Zephyr utterly. Zephyrous' body, strong as it was, could not withstand these energies, which disincorporated him and fused him into the very soul of griffondom. Adune could not bear the loss of two of her oldest companions, her home city and her favourite watering hole, and so after throwing the Great Wake for Condorcorum she disappeared, reappearing over the ages at any griffon party, concert or bacchanal that gets sufficiently out of hand. Hoelun immediately set to work rebuilding the razed city and ruined military and recovering what was left of her life's work, the great library. She feared that one day she might turn as Young Zephyr did and that her powerful form could doom her race if possessed, so she rejected her immortality and cast sorceries to make her reincarnate; keeping her soul and memories but losing her magick-infused body.
“This was the lowest point for the Griffon Kingdoms. Our capital was a ruin and the backbone of our army was shattered. Of our four legendary heroes, one was dead, two were indisposed and the other was effectively mortal once more. Our enemies were salivating at the chance to pay back old insults, to grind our nation to dust, steal our wealth and make slaves of our cubs. The howls of the Diamond Dogs could be heard within a month, the camels amassed their military and mercenaries at our borders, raiders and bandits gleefully prepared to set up in their old dens of yore. The griffons knew they could not withstand attack from every direction, not in their current state, so our ancestors commended their souls to the Four Winds and prepared to make their last stand on this earth.
“As everything looked lost, Celestia and Nightmare Moon appeared to our remaining leaders and to the diplomats of every nation against us. They decreed that in absence of our heroes, the griffon race were welcomed as their children, same as any pony, unicorn or pegasus; and that any attack on their children would invoke the full wrath of Equestria, a superpower in its own right even without the two Royal Sisters. They then turned to us and offered us soldiers should we need them, builders and raw materials should we want them, and many other boons in return for naught but our friendship. Our enemies flinched and scampered back to their holes. We rebuilt our kingdom once more.
“This is why we are loyal to Celestia and Nightmare Moon. In our darkest hour, when they could have left us to our fates, waited until our race was no more, and then swept up the invaders and claimed our territory; when they could have remembered all our skirmishes and animosities; they instead took us under their wings as if we were kin. They went beyond showing us mere mercy, they gave us the greatest of blessings, for nothing more than to accept them as family. Ponies are our family, and this is why we would never wage war against ponies any more than the clans would wage war against each other.”
Uncle Scratchy sits back and drinks deeply from his cup, his story finished. Rainbow Dash looks impressed. “Oh mare, griffon history is metal,” she says, “Why can't Equestrian history be like that?”
“Oh I don't know, Equestrian history can be quite entertaining when they're not being a pack of hegemonistic dogs,” says Nigel, “For example, the pegasus Commander Hurricane was once disqualified from a duel for punching his opponent so hard it technically counted as witchcraft, and he drank so much moonshine that he had to pay stamp duty on his blood every time he crossed a border.”
“Yeah, now that's a pegasus I could get behind!” says Dash, “You'll have to fill me in on that guy.” Oh holy balls Dash, don't encourage him.
Uncle Scratchy claps his paws together. “Anyway, time for more food! You like mushrooms cub?”
Rainbow's eyes light up. “I LOVE mushrooms, gimme! Uh, please, I mean.”
Rainbow Dash snuggles back under my wing and we all start munching down the next round of food. It's been a damn good day. I've missed my Uncle, and I've missed that dumbass Terrence with his terrible innuendoes and his awesome food, and I've missed Gretchen, the Moon-may-care forest witch with her bluntness and her cublike enthusiasm for everything to do with bushcraft, and I've even missed Nigel with his fancy speaking and politics and dweebishness. I've missed my mom back at the tribe, and the five griffons who might be my dad, and most of my brothers and sisters, and chilling out around Griffhala, and I'm back here now and it's good to be back.
Everything feels right.
~~*~*~*~~
~*~*~
~*~
:|:
I wake up when I hear the screaming. It's a drawn-out, tortured howl, like a dog going through a threshing machine. It takes a few seconds to realize that I'm doing the screaming.
Everything is wrong. My muscles are spasming wildly, sinews like steel ropes, almost crushing my bones. Boiling acid courses through my veins, barbed wire wraps around every organ, my muscles are crushing my bones and tearing the tendons from the joints, my eyes throb and threaten to pop from their sockets and billions of strange creatures are crawling under my skin. I scream even louder as I thrash and take deep breaths through burning lungs.
Rainbow Dash is standing over me, terror in her eyes, begging me to say something. I can't, all I can do is scream loud enough to strip the flesh from my throat. She runs off. I start to see blackness behind my eyes, and everything inside me feels wrong, deeply wrong, like soul-incest, like there is some part of me gone, something vital that I will die without. I'm thrashing around hard enough to throw the sheets off the bed and crack the headboard with a flailing claw. I hear Dash burst into the room with Trixie and Twilight. It doesn't matter. I'm going to die here. I can't survive this. Four Winds, I'm going to die.
Dash is yelling and Trixie is scrambling around and Twilight is trying to think and my organs are being liquefied as evil bees eat me from the inside. I want to live damn it, but I'm slipping. My screams turn to low groans, the pain dies down as my body is flooded with whatever chemical makes pain die down and I can't even feel my thrashing muscles any more. In a moment the blackness will set in, and all that I am and ever was will be no more.
But the blackness doesn't come. I'm groaning because I don't have to scream any more. I can't feel my muscles thrash because the spasms have stopped and turned into small bouts of twitching. The relief isn't some sweet injection of painkillers, it's because the pain is gone.
Whatever just happened is over. I see Rainbow Dash in front of me.
"-you okay, Gilda? What just happened, you were screaming and- jeez, your pupils are pinpricks, we gotta get you to a hospital or something," she says breathlessly, "You had some kind of crazy fit, did you take a bunch of moon dust a minute ago or something?" Her eyes are wide with worry and she's shaking as much as I am.
Trixie shakes her head. "It's not drugs, if she took enough to cause a fit like that she'd be dead now," she murmurs. She doesn't look as terrified as dash, but she's definitely unnerved.
Twilight is pacing, and then she turns to us. "I'm going to run a toxin scan and then check through my codex of non-pony medical conditions, if that doesn't come up with anything we're going to need to get her to a-"
"Won't help," I croak, cutting her off, "S'not poison or illness. Got a hole in my soul, can feel it. I've heard it happens when you get banished from your clan. You stop being a proper griffon, n' it kills you." My insides still feel terrible, my joints ache and I can't stop twitching.
Twilight frowns. "That's not right. Vincent the Machinist came to Equestria after he was banished from the Goldeneyes and lived to old age. Quite a few griffons have done that after doing something terrible in the eyes of their clan but not bad enough to be jailed in Equestria. I don't know what happened to you, but it wasn't that."
I stretch out. I feel like I've just had feather flu. "S'mthing wrong with me..." I mumble, getting off the bed. My legs are wobbly and Dash comes close to catch me, but I can stand. "-m not a real griffon any more, I- I'm something else." My back leg twitches, and I lean against Dash. "Trixie," I say, "Need you to get the tuttlebark burner and some candles. Gotta do the thing."
Trixie raises her eyebrows, but nods and heads back into her room. I stumble off Dash and start rooting through the saddlebags at the bottom of my bed. I stop when I find my stash of rabbit jerky. Then I take two little bottles of whiskey from the minibar, open one up, and down it in a single pull.
"You about to do what I think you're about to do?" asks Dash, an eyebrow cocked, "Does that work when you're, y'know..."
"Banished? Worked just fine when I was out of the tribe" I say, "He's part of my psyche, same as every griffon. I think it's time for a chat."
"Wait, are you going to commune?" asks Twilight, eyes lighting up, "That's incredible! I've heard of griffons communicating with Zephyrous but I've never seen it! How does it work? Can I watch? What do-" She quiets down and blushes deeply when Dash gives her a sharp look. "I mean, if that's okay with you, if it's a private thing-"
I wave a paw at her. "Nah it's cool, there really ain't much to see though. I go into a trance for a bit, and it happens in my head. Watch all you want." I flop back down on the bed and stare at the cream wallpaper of the suite. Everything feels wrong.
Trixie comes back in with the burner, some tuttlebark and some candles. We head into the en-suite, Twilight looking excited, Dash looking wary and Trixie with her usual aloof expression. I set up the candles around the sink, light them, plug the basin, put the burner in the sink and light it. The device cools the smoke as it comes out, and the thick brown incense settles in the basin. I take out the jerky and the whiskey, then turn to the others.
"'Kay, I need you to turn off the lights now," I say, "This works best in the dark."
Twilight flicks the light switch and the room is now lit by candlelight, reflecting off the mirror above the sink. I tear off a small strip of jerky and chew it until it is soft and ready to swallow. I pour the whiskey into my mouth and down it and the jerky, then lower my beak into the basin and inhale as much of the incense as I can. It smells of roasted duck and sulfur, and it burns my throat and nostrils. I then stare directly into the mirror and chant:
"Zephyrous, Zephyrous, Zephyrous."
My eyes roll back and everything is black.
* * *
Everything is back in focus. I'm in the bathroom again, everyone looking at me expectantly. I stare at the floor.
"It didn't work," I say, "Nothing happened. I'm... I'm alone now."
Twilight gives me an odd look. "You were in a trance for five minutes, mumbling like you were having a conversation with someone. I think you started speaking Qi-Rin at one point."
"Nai-tu," says Trixie, "Deer dialect. You were most certainly in a trance of some sort. It seems likely that it worked, and you're simply unable to remember it. Strange, but I think Twilight would agree that you haven't lost your soul or something like that."
It's wrong. Everything is wrong and it feels wrong and I'm wrong. I'm going to die banished, I can feel it.
"Thanks guys," I say glumly, "Can I talk with Dash for a bit?"
Trixie and Twilight give me sympathetic looks and go back to their rooms. Dash comes close and puts a hoof around my neck. "How ya feeling?" she whispers. I swallow, and lean in close to her, sitting on the tile floor.
"Last night I had a dream," I say, "It was a memory of the time you stayed with my family for the Spring break, when you helped us hunt with my uncle and my cousins. They all really liked you, and the hunt was fun, the food was great, my cousins were all loveably dumb and we told stories and sang songs long into the night before we curled up close together and slept under the stars and all that crap. Now there's a very good chance that none of that shit will ever happen again."
My eyes go moist and I start snivelling like a cub. "I want things to be normal, Dash. I want all this to stop, to clear my banishment. I want to go home and see Uncle Scratchy and crazy Aunt Gina and Terrence and Gretchen and all my cousins and nieces and nephews and brothers; I wanna eat dansak and rocky mountain oysters fried in butter and coriander and live baby octopus that squiggles around as you stuff it in your beak; I wanna walk ino a griffon bar without everybird putting a free hand on a weapon, I just want to be a normal fucking griffon without something- something wrong inside me..." I trail off, bury my face in Dash's neck and just fucking sob. Nothing is right and everything is wrong inside. It's like I'm going to die and horrible things are waiting for me in the black.
Rainbow Dash holds me close and gently runs a comforting hoof through my crest. "Wow Gilly, I didn't know you were so torn up about this banishment thing," she says softly, "It's been pretty hard on you, huh?"
I calm down and relax against her. She's soft and warm and I start to feel a little better. The wrongness fades. "Nah, it's just that dream and that fit," I say, sniffling. "It's just... got me out of sorts is all, I'm feeling a lot less weird now." I look up at her through reddened eyes and smile. "Sorry for being so lame just now."
She smiles back and chuckles softly. "Don't sweat it G, it happens to all of us," she says, "And we'll get you back in, I promise. I never leave a friend hanging."
"Thanks, RD," I say, as she hugs me in close. We sit there for a minute, not saying anything, until there is a knock on the door. Trixie comes in. I look like a dorky pathetic mess, but I don't care, she's seen me worse.
"If you're feeling capable, we can work on your way back in right away," says Trixie, a smug look plastered across her face, "My prodigious abilities with arcane tracking have come through spectacularly, and we've picked up Goodflank on our monitors. He's meeting Trotsky now."
Extra author note: Did you arrive here from Equestria Daily? Yes? If so, GET BACK THERE AND RATE MY STORY, I CAN ALMOST TASTE THE SIX STAR RATING MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!1!!ONE!
Stats
Page generated in 0.032 seconds
Total duration
863 users online
592,492 hits today, 2,561,572 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
...I'm with Dash.
Griffon history is metal as fuck.
539349
I have literally been clicking the refresh button every five minutes waiting for someone to comment for the last hour, and you have made me so very happy
Griffon history is indeed metal. It's what I get for reading a whole bunch of Robert E Howard stories before sitting down to write.
539366
I love this fic so much, really. I don't offer up any long comments like everyone else does because everyone else already has said what I would say. So, uh, Yep. Fucking awesome as always.
Not just metal...SPEED METAL, by Dragonforce! Seriously, seriously EPIC!
i officially love griffon history i mean sure U.S. history is good but the teachers manage to make it boring with pointless stuff that people don't even remember like who cares about a book they don't sell anymore now if it was sold then we could use it BUT ITS NOT
This story is one of the highlights of my day when it updates. I read a LOT and I know an epic story when I see one. This story is not only awesome but when I saw that it had updated I literally squeed in anticipation! So... Gilda has a hole in her soul? Interesting. I do wonder what that's all about.
Yay, update!
I'm wondering where you'll take this, and when Gilda will remember what happened in the trance. Darn it, I wish I had a time machine so I could jump to the next update!
That's so metal it's a Transformer!
Awesome, awesome work there. The heroes, Celestia and Luna stepping in like that. And poor Gilda, too.
So, you've got all your classic leader figures for a good old-fashioned epic historical recount.
The Warrior, the inspiring figure of martial power.
The Scholar, sage custodian of knowledge and learning.
The Judge, who brings the vile villains to justice.
The Mistress of Rock, who's parties make Pinkie look lame and somehow weaponized orgies as a means of aggressive diplomacy.
...
...
...
...
...
One of these things is not like the others...
540498
Whenever someone first plays D&D or a derivative videogame, they will inevitably be all like "A fucking bard? Who needs a musician in a party of adventurers? What possible purpose could that serve?"
Adune is the griffon answer to that particular question.540582
EDIT: Also, Young Zephyr is an expy for an Alan Moore character, and Hoelun is a composite of several figures from the mongol empire, and is named after Genghis Khan's mother.
another awesome chapter! keep it up!
I wish history was taught more like that: around a fire with food and friends/family, and the history itself sold in an awesome light.
Great update, but you take so long!...I mean, *sigh* you can't rush art...but
<(Aw, C'MON!)
And Gilda's homesickness brought this little ditty to mind *ahem*
<("Oh Country Rooooooad,
Take meh hooooome.
To the plaaaace,
Where I belooooong.")
New Headcannon,
Commander Hurricane is the most badass pegasus short of Fluttershy.
Sweet Sisters, gryphon history (as told by Chuckfinley through the beak of Gilda's Uncle Scratchy) is a fucking WEAPON! Metal? That implies that it can be melted down into some lesser substance far too pathetically inadequate to even think about possibly considering making an attempt to hold a candle to how purely awesome it is!
Gryphons were my favorite mythical creature before, but now you've cemented them in place as my all-time favorite creature forever.
Also, Fluttershy as a ranger, Trixie being her over-powered, egotistical, megalomaniacal climax-inducing self and ancient gryphon warriors who can throw wild parties powerful enough to stop multiple armed conflicts?
Harmony, Chuck. I need to take a break from reading your stuff or I'll die of overstimulation. My brain's pleasure centers have worked on overdrive throughout every one of the chapters of this story. Why do words have such a profound effect on my body?
EDIT: One more question: Is Fluttershy ever going to make an appearance in this story? I mean, it seems like most of the Mane Six are badasses in it, so would it apply to her too?
Sinn Bird. I see what you did there...
(<stupid_nitpick>Wouldn't they technically be internal security instead of foreign affairs?</stupid_nitpick)
Chingis' description reminds me of Conan's Crom (... bitter and moody goddess who sits on her great mountain, sending out dooms ...).
Was this intentional or am I reading too much into it?
Anyway, I love your style. Very refreshing and the world building is superb. This is one of the very few OOC/Crossover stories I enjoy reading.
Can't wait for chapter 9!
That history was pretty wild, though I got the impression from of Nigel's comments that he has a somewhat different view on history and why the griffons don't war with the ponies. (Let's face it, Uncle Scratchy was probably prioritizing a good story over strict facts.) I like that.
It's about time Gilda actually had a reaction to this Banishment Decree thing. After she explain it in chapter 2, it was all, "Whelp, time to worry about that another day." But when I go back and reread that explanation, I remember that Gilda is a professional intelligence operative. Ferreting out secrets is sort of what she does, and the reason for the "double-secret banishment" might not remain secret long if she actually put the effort in. It's not like she doesn't have an associate who is, oh, a master of disguise. Or like she doesn't know plenty of non-griffon operatives who might be tapped to get the information. In retrospect, she's been trying to ignore it out of shock more than out of not having any options at all. Hopefully that's now about to change.
540949
It's been pretty hectic for the last few months, but my writing speed should pick up in about three weeks when finals are over. The only reason I've been writing at all is just to get the writing bug out of my head.
541003
Yup, definitely not foreshadowing, no foreshadowing here no siree
541444
Damn straight,
541908
Aww, you're a darling
No plans for Fluttershy as of yet, I don't think I could write her that well, at least not at the moment. Also, Fluttershy here is a ranger in the sense of 'keeps an eye on all the wildlife and the local forest' rather than 'shoots things with arrows and wields two swords' sense.
542112
Entirely intentional, I've been reading a big book of Conan stories for the last while and a half and tried to write the history vaguely in Howard's style. I'm also very glad you got the Sinn Bird reference
542269
It's a bit of a balancing act, because while she's a spy and therefore shouldn't have a huge problem with homesickness, there's no tension in the story if it doesn't affect her at all. But then, homesickness is one thing, feeling like you're no longer a member of your own species is another...
Y'know, I'm really enjoying this story (in fact, I just read from chapter one is a single sitting), the character dynamics are engaging, the source material (whatever the fuck it is) feels like it comes through solidly, and your narrative execution is pretty good.
But by god man, you need an edit-sweep, especially on this last chapter. I'm not sure why there's such a marked difference, but the chronic mistakes take a drastic upswing in this one. Have you considered seeking a full review from /fic/?
In any event, I do like your story- cheers, and keep writing.
542689
These last two chapters were rushed out and I haven't had time to sweep and edit yet. When finals are over, they're getting de-scuzzled same as I did for the first six chapters, which were all quite bad before I ran over and did my edits.
Clearly they have The Right Idea about their culture. It runs on Rule Of Cool.
542478
Aww...
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a tiny bit disappoint. Not so much at Fluttershy not being a bow-wielding, dual-sword slashing nightmare to any and all creatures who would dare harm her animals, though. That's exactly the type of pony she isn't, and I'd hate to see her as part of the same violent mold as Trixie, Gilda and Rainbow Dash.
Besides I'd probably die of squee if she made an appearance anyway, judging how I nearly bit it when Pinkie Pie made her grand entrance. I also can't stand the thought of her being harmed or taken advantage of due to her kind and trusting nature.
But that's okay. Hay, the story's phenomenal as it already is, although, I honestly think it could use a little editing sweep now that I've had the chance to read it a couple dozen times.
Agreed entirely about the griffon history being METAL.
Nice to see a glimpse of Dash and Gilda being friends in their younger days, and to see a bit what her family is like.
542847
Wait a minute... You're the dude who did Dashomon! and Dark Equestria! and Trouble Sleeping! and Redeeming Blueblood!
Dude, you're awesome! And you like Banishment Decree! SQUEEE!!
Please tell me you're planning to do something with Dark Equestria. That short story has a TON of potential to be an absolute epic for reasons I unfortunately don't have time to go into right now. But srs, you're on a huge winner there if you feel like writing it.
I love the idea that Griffins don't have moving ballads and epic long form poetry in their history but totally wicked sweet guitar solos.
When I read that part about Adune's guitar riff bringing Zephyr back to his senses I literally laughed out loud because it was so perfect in that metal history.
542910
In my mind, she played the opening to this song.
My god. It's full of awesome.
I'll admit, you kinda lost me with that one. Felt like you were straying from the premise more than a little, but hey, it's your story. Still looking forward to the next chapter.
543268
It was meant to go spycraft -> dream -> strange fit -> more spycraft -> spycraft and action, but I'm stuck for time and at 7800 words it was a fair chapter by itself so I cut it off after the strange fit. Our regular spycraft will pick up with the next episode.
544790
Yeah, she's evil.
She gets worse
544942
The orgies and murder are a reference to Under the Northern Lights, which I'm using as partial-canon for this story. It's a very good story too.
544996
The book didn't necessarily pop up just as MDW arrived, she just only found out about it by then. For the information in the book to be accurate, it had to be made some time in advance. But yes, there are shady, shady things going on with that book...
540592
And who might that be? I could see the comedian being the warrior blinded by sense of duty
545099
Not from Watchmen, V for Vendetta or League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. I'll let you keep guessing and say when you get the right one, unless you really want to know, then I'll just tell ya
545123
Ooh a tricky one. Was it his Batman novel?
544769
When Gilda's describing griffon banishment. Imagine your friend walks in wearing a dress made out of your friends, etc. That wasn't referencing Cupcakes? o_0
545779
Ohhh yeahhh, forgot about that one
545614
Nope, more obscure
542856
Wait a minute... You're the dude who did Dashomon! and Dark Equestria! and Trouble Sleeping! and Redeeming Blueblood!
Yes, and yes, and yes, and yes.
Dude, you're awesome! And you like Banishment Decree! SQUEEE!!
Whoah, thanks! And yeah, I do like this story. I like ponies, and in this case griffons, being badass, and I like creative wordlbuilding stuff expanding on the show. Plus this is just plain fun!
Please tell me you're planning to do something with Dark Equestria. That short story has a TON of potential to be an absolute epic for reasons I unfortunately don't have time to go into right now. But srs, you're on a huge winner there if you feel like writing it.
Thanks again! I really would like to do something more with the Gothic Equestria and the alt-Mane Six I set up there, but I haven't figured out what, exactly.
The flashback to the lemming hunt was a little disturbingly honest, but nice. Good observation that not only Dash but also Fluttershy would be used to predator habits. A lot of authors miss that.
...somehow I'm not surprised one of the griffon quasi-demigods is a literal embodiment of sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll.
"Uncle Scratchy’s eyes light up."
Thought he only had one eye
Great new chapter, looking forward to more
551469
Ah, thanks for catching that!
There, it's been three nights, but I'm all caught up. This story kicks so much flank I can't even begin. I didn't wanna post until I caught up, but I have to say that last chapter with Dash was a bucking riot. Daring Do fanfic winner, HAHA! One thing that got me though is you used Nightmare Moon with Celestia instead of Luna.. Was that portraying that the gryphons see Luna as Nightmare Moon or your interpretation of Luna in the prior days? I'm going to assume it's the former and not get into a mini argument about the logistics of Pony-lore. Anyways, sick story, looking forward to more, yada yada you're awesome, all that jazz.
Funny thing, herbivores will eat meat if they're hungry and its convenient. Easier to digest than plant material. Perhaps this doesn't apply to sentient herbivores, however.
552006
I'm glad you like it
Dash and Gilda camping together took place before the Summer Sun Celebration and Nightmare Moon's return. My interpretation is that everyone (in modern Equestrian times but before Luna's return) thought Nightmare Moon was Celestia's sister, and just happened to turn evil one day, so Luna's actions in olden times are referred to as Nightmare Moon's actions.
542928 When I read about her, I immediately thought of Val Halen of "The Justice Friends" and his mighty Axe (Dexter's Laboratory).
This is an amazing story, even though it's grimdark to the very core, and features ponies and other creatures doing things so terrible I'd have no choice but to wipe the entire planet clean of lif... uhm... never mind. *whistles innocently and hides his cache of diabolical super weaponry*
Anyway, as dark as it may be, it's incredibly written, which has allowed me to even keep reading past the part where Trixie burned ponies alive. They were evil bastards whom I would have killed myself, make no mistake! But it would be instant. They would simply... cease to exist.
Normally I would have stopped reading at that, so let me tell you that you're the only writer who has ever gotten me to keep reading past such a scene, and then hit me repeatedly with vile things and still kept me interested. I suppose it's because this is a world which is a perfect blend of fantasy with the very worst in human nature, and yet just enough redeeming qualities to keep me from wishing I could beam in and reduce the whole of the planet to liquid hot magma as I'll be doing with Earth this December 21st...
552231
OK, that's a very gnarly interpretation and I liek it a lot, works very well. I really hope Studio B goes back and covers some of the history of Equestria further; there are so many questions floating around unanswered. And yet, if they do, a lot of fabrics are going to become redacted X3.
ooooh mai gaaawd, a new chapter in Banishment Decree...?
scranton.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw3026-Raricame.jpg
So, all them heroes just forgive that asshole? Even after he killed a whole bunch of kids and Zephyrous' own 2 children?
I'd have torn his guts out as he begged for mercy!
I dunno, it just seems so...story- like lol. Which I guess works perfectly here lol. I find this story hilarious so far. Not because it's bad or anything but because it seems just like a gritty "real world" type of movie.
563168
The four heroes were best of friends for centuries before YZ turned, and they only forgave him after he had a gigantic metal pole through his chest and was going to die anyway. It's partly based on the (supposed) events when Genghis Khan fought, defeated and captured his main rival and blood brother Jamuka. According to the (Mongol, recorded by Genghis Khan's biographers) accounts, Jamuka apologised for the bad blood and the war atrocities he (possibly) committed, and he and Genghis forgave each other, but Jamuka requested that GK snap his neck, as things could not go back to normal or any other way.
Actually, looking back on what I wrote, I don't make it especially clear that these heroes were best of friends, and not simply all being heroic separately.
563211
Well I personally would have been far too blinded by a righteous fury so powerful and without measure that I would have done it anyway.But some people are softies on the inside I guess lol.
I'm glad to hear that you put actual thought and history into a tale though. I always love to see what something in a story could be based off of.
563791
If you're looking for cool history, I highly recommend Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World by Jack Weatherford. It's an absolutely awesome book about how the Mongols revolutionised warfare and empire building. It's very pro mongol however and can be excessively revisionist (like saying that the mongols took 'servants and wives' when the correct terms are 'slaves and sex slaves'), but it's fascinating nontheless.