> Escalation 1028
>  by Nagerleral
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the start of the week, and Griffenheim Central Station was proof of it. The capital of the Griffonian Empire was an important hub of commerce and power after all, and the Station was the centre of it all; as the railroad had replaced the Griffking River ports as the most important method of transportation in the Heartlands of the Empire. Midday train traffic was in full swing, as trains arrived and left the Station each in an average of ten minutes, carrying passengers or cargo in and out of the city.

One of these trains, a red one with white lines on its sides, was just arriving on the station; westwards from the city of De Vleugels. The locomotive  – one of the newer streamliner designs available in the Empire – blew its whistle as it approached the platform, braking in the process. Once it stopped on the Station and opened its doors, dozens of griffons exited the train, happy to arrive to their destination. Inside one of the VIP cars, a white griffon gathered his belongings into a briefcase and stepped out of the train. He was dressed in grey military officer clothing, and his chest sported several medals.

Once he was fully out of the train, the griffon was blasted by the heat of the city, no longer protected by the air conditioning inside the car. His choice of clothing became poor as he began sweating, and he brought a claw to his face to move some of his forehead feathers back to position. After adjusting himself to standing on all four legs again, the griffon began walking to the inside of the station; unintentionally passing next to the engine, and the heat from it – even while it was not moving – added to the unusually warm summer heat Griffenheim was experiencing, especially hitting the left side of his face. Cursing internally, he moved faster into the Station's inside.

He felt immediate relief once stepping inside, as the interior of the building was significantly cooler that the outside. He took a moment to look at his surroundings – dozens, if not hundreds, of griffons were inside the station, and he stopped to look at several stores and places near him: a clothing store, an arcade, and a cafe; he wasn't interested in any of these though, as he was too old for games, had enough clothing in his briefcase, and the train service had already come with breakfast.

Instead he continued looking, eventually finding what he wanted near the entrance of the station. He quickly walked to the light brown griffon standing next to a telephone booth, wearing a black uniform. The griffon rapidly noticed him and greeted the white griffon with a salute, with the officer saluting back.

"Greetings, Generalfeldmarschall Helltalon, welcome to Griffenheim," the griffon said.

"Good day, Harold." Helltalon shook the griffon's claw. "Is everything ready so we can go to the Palace?" 

Harold made a quick nod. "Yes, sir, both the vehicle and the escort are ready to move. All we need now is to get inside the car."

"Alright, let's go."

Both griffons left the train station, and promptly entered the first car – a classical, model 1018 black Krähe. Harold put on his chauffeur hat and started the vehicle, their security escort behind them. Helltalon put his briefcase near him and looked out of the window, taking in the scenery of the Griffonian capital. In front of him, he could see the trees and bushes of Grover square, its famous clock tower in the middle; griffons of all sorts walking and flying around the plaza. If he focused his eyes enough – which his eagle vision permitted – he could make out the outline of the Imperial Palace on the other side of the Griffking River. His destination.

Their car moved through the winding streets of Griffenheim, slowly but with care. In many ways, the capital was still an old city, with its ancient architecture and design still standing. As a result, the inventions of the modern era had to adapt to it, instead of the other way around. From the inside of the vehicle he could see that the heat the city experienced was unusual even for its inhabitants, with almost all of the griffons he saw on the streets moving quickly so they could spend less time in the open.

"Is there a heat wave going on? In Vleugels its starting to get warm as well, even for summer," he said.

"Seems like it." Harold looked out of the window into the sky. "They say its going to rain in the next days though, hopefully it'll last until that."

"I hope so." Helltalon nodded, adjusting the collar of his uniform with his right claw. "Can we move faster? I don't want to spend any extra time outside."

"Of course, sir," Harold responded. "This car may be older, but it works better that many newer models, in my opinion."

The white griffon nodded once again. The 1018 Krähe had passed the line from 'old' to 'classy', and was now in trend for wealthy griffons to use it – or put it and show it off to others – as a symbol of wealth and power. Griffon nature, he thought, it never changed. 

As their vehicle went over one of the many centuries-old bridges that crossed the Griffking River, he could see the view of the gigantic body of water. There were a few large ships carrying cargo – probably to the port in Rottendedam, or the industrial centers in Mirabelle  – although most of the river traffic was composed of medium to small sized boats, carrying griffons or smaller quantities of goods. The Griffking originated in Wittenland, far away to the east, and was several kilometers in width at its greatest, making it a excellent route of commerce and transport – even if the train had relegated it to second place.

He took his mind off the city for a moment, and focused on what he was in Griffenheim for. The Emperor, Grover the Sixth, had summoned the field marshals in the Empire – three in total – to the Palace. He knew the reason for this: the situation in Nova Griffonia. The Empire's former colony had been fighting a war along with its Vedinian ally for the past four years; against the most powerful nation in the world at the moment, the Solar Empire. The Empire had sent aid to the the Nova Griffonians, mainly in the form of weapons, equipment and trucks; but the Solarists were near the capital city of Weter, despite the fierce resistance from Nova Griffonia, and the city was likely to fall soon.

He frowned as the thought of the Solar Empire. Twenty years ago, nogriff would have it in their heads that Equestria would turn into the nation it was now. The Great War against the Changelings changed the country drastically – too drastically. As the Changeling army neared the Equestrian capital of Canterlot, Princess Celestia was unable to control her stress and anger, and ascended into Daybreaker. Four bloody years later, and the Solar Empire's armies were now in the Vesalopolis, the capital of the Changeling Lands, and the country was annexed into the new nation, including its Olenian conquest. 

After the Great War ended, Daybreaker continued her reforms – the economy was closed; the events happening in the country rarely getting known in the rest of the world, and direct rule from Canterlot was enacted, as the former Olenian and Changeling nations were planned to be integrated into the country, with almost no native rule, all of it at the local level.

The Griffonian Empire didn't send aid to its former Changeling ally, as relations had cooled after the death of General Thranx, although it was a blessing in disguise: they would have been at war with the ponies years ago, as Daybreaker was notoriously power-hungry and agressive; somegriffs even said that she had burned down the city of Stalliongrad herself. Some tried to rebel and swore loyalty to Princess Luna, but they were destroyed, along with the Lunar Princess.

His thoughts were stopped by the car halting, and the voice of Harold. "We have arrived, sir, welcome to the Imperial Palace."

He nodded and thanked the chauffeur, the door opened by one of his guards. He looked at the Imperial Palace, taking the entirety of its size more than one time. Traditional griffon architecture utilized the terrain to its advantage, and the Palace was no different. Built on the highest hill in Griffenheim, the Palace's height increased as the hill's own altitude did, taking up more than eighty thousand square meters, and five stories. At the top of the building, four spires shot up into sky, meant to symbolize the Grover Dynasty's connection to Boreas, King of Gods.

Helltalon quickly walked up the fifty or so steps of the Palace, and arrived at the main door, which was flanked by two armed griffon knights. The guards noticed him immediately, and saluted Helltalon, opening the wooden Palace doors so he could enter.

Once saluting the guard back and entering inside the Palace, he looked around the building. The interior was what you could expect from griffon royalty – displays of wealth were abundant everywhere he looked, with golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and columns and walls made from the finest of Wingbardian marble. The floor was covered in a red carpet, and the entrance hall split into three: two starts to the sides, and one bigger stair in front. The top of the guardrails, of course, were covered in gold.

He went up the front stair, since that's where he needed to go. At the top of it was a servant, who welcomed him. 

"Good day, Herr Helltalon," the servant said, with a little nervousness in her voice. "His Majesty will see you soon, in the meantime time you can meet with the other Marshals that have arrived, further ahead."

He nodded and continued to walk through another door, arriving in the Palace's main hallway, which stretched for what seemed like forever. Around fifteen meters ahead though, he could see where the two remaining field marshals were standing – Rodier and Bronzetail. Helltalon quickled moved to the door where both griffons were waiting, and greeted them.

"Good day, gentlegriffs," he said, saluting the other marshals.

"Good day, Monsieur Helltalon," responded Rodier, thick Aquilean accent all the way through.

Léonard Rodier was an... interesting griffon, to say the least. He left Aquilea when the Second Revolution broke out, declaring his homeland to be a 'dead country'. He was accepted by the Empire, and made a field marshal shortly after; he insisted on being called the Maréchal most of his time, and he did administer the Aquilean occupation government after the Empire's war against the Second Republic. Still, Helltalon believed he was stuck-up, to put it lightly.

Bronzetail also responded with his own greeting and salute; and Helltalon rapidly asked about the Emperor's whereabouts.

"The Emperor is in a meeting with King Tomado." Bronzetail took his signature corn cob pipe out of his beak. "He'll arrive shortly."

"Alright, we'll have to wait, then," he responded.

The atmosphere was still after the conversation, with almost no griffon in this part of the Palace at this hour. He looked around, at the red walls and the several plants and portraits around him – of important griffon lords and ladies, and some paintings of well-known historical scenes of the Empire, the coronation of Emperor Grover the Fourth being an example.

The wait also created expectation inside him – its not that he nervous of meeting Grover VI, as he had not much reasons to be: his more than forty year career in the Imperial Army, and him remaining loyal during the Revolution of 978; made him well known to the Grovers. The Emperor was also a pleasant griffon to be around with, unless you mentioned Daybreaker's claims of being able to raise the Sun, since that's where the Archon Eros' education – Boreas be with him – was particulary effective!

The reason for this expectation was the reason of the meeting itself. The Empire was nervous of any Solarist clawhold in the Griffonian continent, due to it being a perfect platform for any future war against any nation on the continent. With the situation in Nova Griffonia, this was more likely – the capital city of Weter was less than a hundred kilometers from the Vedinian coast, and the ponies could easily attempt and even succeed at a naval invasion of the Kingdom of Vedina. 

Aiding the Northern Alliance with weapons and materiel was not enough, so he asked himself, was it time for a more direct intervention? By this he did not just mean declaring war on the Solar Empire – that would be foolhardy at this stage – but perhaps a diplomatic meeting could be arranged, he wondered.

His thoughts were interrupted by a palace knight opening the door.

"His Majesty will arrive in a minute, sirs," he said.

Nodding, each marshal entered the room one by one. It was decorated similarly to the rest of the palace, with the central feature being a large table, with no cloth on it. He could see a large map of Vedina on it, with circles and points of interest marked. From the window of the room, he could see the gardens of the Palace, which were as large as the building itself.

As the knight said, the Emperor arrived exactly one minute after they did. As he entered the room, everygriff in it bowed – even Rodier – and waited for him to speak.

"Good day, gentlegriffs." Grover VI walked slowly to the table. "I assume you have all arrived well?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Bronzetail responded for everygriff in the room, "What is your reason for your summoning in this day?"

"I'm concerned about the situation in the North." Grover adjusted the golden band around his neck. "I'm more concerned about the chances of an Equestrian landing in Vedina."

The Emperor then gestured for the three marshals to come over. They were soon joined by the intelligence heads of the Imperial Navy and Army.

"How likely is it the Equestrians land in Vedina," Grover repeated.

Marshal Bronzetail was the first to respond. "At the moment, we believe they won't risk it. However, once the Nova Griffonians are defeated, we believe its highly likely they will try to invade the Vedinians."

"And what are the most probable points of landing they will attempt to use?" asked Grover VI.

Helltalon followed in speaking. "The peninsula is an excellent point, as its mostly flat terrain with little obstacles. From that, we can also expect several landings in the western coast, especially in the closest point between Equus and Griffonia. The southwestern and northern coasts are a no-go, as they are either too far from any supply bases or filled with difficult, hilly terrain."

He was quickly followed by Rodier, who said, "The Equestrians have already captured the Haukland Islands. It will most likely be used as a staging point for an invasion. We can predict one if we monitor the supply movement into the islands."

Rodier pointed the location of the Hauklands on the map with his claw, marked with a red circle as a point of interest. Emperor Grover VI put on his reading glasses, his blue eyes fixating on the map. Shortly thereafter, the Imperial Navy intelligence head, Reinholt Blueplume, also began to talk.

"The Equestrian Navy has increased its activity on the area. We think they're attempting to establish naval dominance for an invasion. It will not be subtle when they do it."

"A naval invasion is inevitable," The Emperor said, rather fatefully, "The question is, what do we do once it happens?"

"We do have several options." Helltalon pointed to the map. "We can mobilize some armies to the Vedinian border, and push for a diplomatic solution for the conflict."

"The Equestrians are paranoid of our intervention in the conflict," Rodier added as soon as Helltalon finished speaking. "Boreas knows what will they do once they learn of our mobilization."

"They know they can't fight against us on Griffonia," Helltalon added even more quickly. "If they learn of our decision, they'll agree to a ceasefire. The Equestrians won't risk war with us. Its too costly."

"Do you even know who Daybreaker is? Her personality?! How she thinks she's the Solar Godd—”

"Let's not argue like chicks!" The Emperor interrupted. "And Rodier, remember that Daybreaker's claims about raising the sun are just that, claims."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"I'll have to agree with Marshal Helltalon," Bronzetail said, "The Equestrians will agree to a peace negotiation if we show our force. Our continental strength is unmatched. Maybe they'll do it if we sweeten the deal."

The Emperor stood for a minute, staring at the map, and thinking. His blue eyes darted around the map several times, before he stopped, took off his glasses and began speaking once again.

"Gentlegriffs, if the Equestrians decide to invade Vedina." The 25-year-old Emperor looked at the Helltalon, determined. "We will partially mobilize towards the Vedinian border, Marshal Helltalon will command the army group and its generals." Grover VI now looked at Bronzetail and Rodier. "We will also covertly prepare in the west coast, as a precaution. An army will also be placed on the Wingbardian and Sicamenoese coasts." 

All three marshals silently nodded at the Emperor's orders, although Helltalon internally prided himself in being awarded the most important job. He was the first to speak.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Your orders will be followed," he said.

"That's great." Grover VI gave a slight smile at the Marshals. "Now, will you gentlegriffs join me for lunch?"

Not wanting to reject the offer, all three accepted. The lunch, served on the dining hall of the Palace, was typical. A main course of pork, potatoes, rice and bread was followed by a second course of fruit. This was also accompanied with Aquilean wine – Rodier commenting on its good quality. The three left the Palace in the mid afternoon, after a hour long flight in its gardens with Grover VI, at the Emperor's invitation.

After leaving, Helltalon once again entered Harold's Krähe. The trip to the Griffking Hotel was short, with the building being located on the banks of the river it was named after, not far from the Palace. The afternoon traffic, or lack of it, also contributed; as almost nogriff was on the streets of its city at this time, unless they were tourists or going somewhere important.

He arrived in the hotel and checked in, his room – the 405 – located on the fourth floor. The design of the interior was what was expected of a hotel in the central part of the city, with a large red carpet covering most of the floor, a large bed in the middle of it. The walls were white and clean, with a few paintings of famous Griffonia landscapes on them. A single golden chandelier hanged from the ceiling, providing enough light.

He looked out of the large window, taking the city scenary. He was on the river side of the building, and although the river and city buildings covered most of his vision, it was a perfect place to think. Helltalon wondered if the meeting had gone really  well – he mostly thought it did, but he had his doubts – and the argument with Rodier was a low point, even if he disliked the griffon. As he looked, the sight of three Hund II interceptors; probably from the airbase outside the city, caught his attention, as he followed them on the clear sky until they disappeared.

Shaking out the doubts out of his mind, Helltalon quickly made to the hotel room's bed, intending to rest before heading out into a city for dinner at dusk, as most of the day heat would be gone by then. He laid down, and closed his eyes.
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Two Months Later






On the shores of Lake Rumare, a dark brown griffon stood. He looked towards the horizon of the lake, and the scene it offered. There wasn't much in terms of landmarks, but the view was still beautiful, at least to him. The water of the lake was a dark blue, which merged well with the mostly clear sky, and the few clouds that were all around that same sky were all a bright white – it was the late morning, and the day was already bright, even if winter was coming in some months.

A noise from a nearby bush broke the griffon's attention towards the horizon, and his white head spun to look at it. A few seconds later, a wild rabbit leapt out, and looked at the griffon. The two looked at each other for a minute or so, before the rabbit once again began to move, disappearing into another bush and into the forest.

The griffon, now broken out of his concentration he had been for the past half hour staring at the lake, decided to walk back  home through the same path he had come from. After around ten minutes of walking – and some flying as well – he was close to arriving at the small town of Emlyn, his hometown. It was not too far from the city of Rumare, but also far enough to have more in common with the Rumarean countryside that to the capital.

Rumare was an ancient land, and it liked to call itself ones of the cradles of griffon civilization, even though that title applied more to the mountain ranges of Eastern Griffonia; like those in Griffonstone and Blackhollow. Nevertheless, the lake that held the Barony's name was the birthplace of many old kingdoms and empires, even the very own Kingdom of Rumare, though that was more ancient history than recent one.

Ever since the Gods had created griffonkind thousands of years ago, the islands had been regarded as a paradise, with scenic and beautiful landscapes and beaches; and the interesting architecture that came with its history. This was also helped by more recent history, as the barony had escaped almost all of the bloodshed that came with both the Empire's collapse and reunification. 

It had even gained from the latter, as the Baron – Alaric Dawnbreaker – had petitioned Archon Eros for the vassalization of Rumare, which he gladly accepted. As the wars of reunification spread, Rumare avoided sending many of its sons and daughters to wars; and at the end the barony was granted land east of the Lake, most notably the city of Residence. Boreas would reward his faithful, it was often said.

The reason the dark brown griffon knew all of this history was simple – the Baron, inspired by Archon Eros, pushed for an increase in the teaching of ancient history; language and heritage, amongst other things, in the newly formed school curriculum. The griffon had been born just as this was approved, and so his education was spent all in the new system. 

He focused again on the path ahead and, as he entered the town, he could see several boats on the small harbour Emlyn had. Fishing continued to be the base for Rumare's economy, despite the fact that industry; commerce and tourism had made significant advancements. Even then, fishing was an important part of Rumare's culture, and recreational fishing had become big in the past years – though it left some fishergriffs unhappy due to the disturbance in their work.

He entered the town itself, feeling the hard cobblestone road on his talons and paws. He looked around, observing the morning scenes; Emlyn was not big, but the streets close to the central square were full with griffons, walking and flying around. It was a work day, and it showed. Today was his day off though, and so he continued walking through the central part of town, pausing for a moment to look at the new electronics store; the new devices and machines fascinated him!

He flew the rest of the way home, feeling the wind all around him. Wings had been one of griffonkind's greatest gifts, and so it was important for griffons to know how to fly. From his low-altitude flight he could see Lake Rumare, and how it stretched towards the horizon, infinite in its size from his point of view. The parts of Emlyn that weren't behind him were also all visible, and the nearby forests and villages towards the west could be seen as well. If he flied somewhat higher and forced his vision, he could even see the other side of the island. 

Fall was coming soon, and he could see the trees slowly beginning to change colour from a bright green to more... 'shut-down' or lifeless tones of that colour, showing the change of seasons. It was also starting to get cool, but his fur and feathers protected him from any temperature drops; he was fine with this change though, as the last months had been warm, even hot, for the griffon.

He finally arrived at his home, taking a moment to rest before entering. It was typical by griffon standards, standing at two stories and built from mostly stone and wood. It was an old building, but it did not have any major problems that couldn't be fixed, the thatched roof of the house providing insulation from the elements. It was also spacious, due to the low population density in his area; he couldn't imagine living like many city griffons, in cramped streets and tight homes.

As he entered his home, he found that it was empty – this wasn't too rare, as his father was a fishergriff and his mother was probably somewhere buying food; his family didn't own a refrigerator, so they had to restock on more perishable items each two days.

The griffon went up the stairs and into his room. Even though it was his off day, he still had activities to do relating to his job: he was a mailgriffon. While trucks and other vehicles were becoming more common in civilian life, most of short-range couriers and mailgriffs were still winged. He wanted to become a truck driver though, and he needed a license for that; thus, he had been spending the last weeks studying and perfecting the questions on the license exam.

He opened the road code textbook, pulled a large paper from it that he used both as a guide to most road signs and as a object that helped him remember where he was on the textbook. He was in the last pages of his second time reading through it, and he felt that once he finished he was ready to take the license exam.

Before starting though, he went back downstairs and moved the only radio they had in the house from the front room coffee table up to his room. Music helped him study faster, he found out, and since nogriff was home he used the opportunity to use the radio his mother bought. He put it near him and turned it on – it was battery powered, so he didn't need to worry about plugging it in.

He began studying, listening to the music in the radio – some 'old hits' station, by the sound of it, which wasn't bad. A half hour or so later, though, the music stopped and some theme that sounded like one of an advertisement started playing. This broke his focus for a moment, and then a voice came out of the radio; he then realized that his parents probably left the radio on a station that mixed music with news.

"Prince Ondska of Vedina has struck a defiant tone in an address to his nation today, challenging the Sola—"

He quickly changed the station to one where he knew they only played music, and continued studying. 

Another half hour later, he heard the sounds of somegriff entering home. Going downstairs, he found out that it was his mother, and approached and greeted her with a hug.

"Hello mom," he said.

His mother broke the hug. "Hello son." She then proceeded to straighten his forehead feathers. "How is my Eryr doing in his off day?"

"I'm fine, mom," he said, moving to one of the chairs in the room, and sitting on it. "I was just studying the road code in my room."

"That's great!" She sat on the couch. "I can't wait for the day you drive for the first time!"

"Yeah, same," he said. "Honestly, its weird and exciting. I have been focusing on this for most of the year and I'm close to finally achieving it." The 20-year-old rubbed his beak nervously. "I've looked at the test and I know almost all of it."

"You know we both support you," his mother said. "I was a mailgriffon as well when I was younger, back then we had to do everything by wing, it was much more tiring. I'm glad you have this opportunity."

"Yeah..." Eryr looked at the bag next to his mother. "You brought lunch?"

"Yup!" she exclaimed. "Fish and rice from the store near the town hall."

"Nice." Eryr's stomach grumbled. "Should I lay down the table?"

"Not so fast," his mother said, "I still need help with some things I brought. Then we can eat."

"Alright." He said, rising from his chair.

When they had finished putting all of the items bought on the basement storage, both griffons ate lunch. Eryr had brought the radio back downstairs, so the ambience of the house was mostly filled with the music from it, plus some small talk they had made. Once they finished eating, Eryr headed back into his room to finish off the last pages of the textbook.

His father had come home in the late afternoon and, once he greeted him, he returned to the same spot by the lake where he had been in the morning. It was his favorite spot, especially at sundown – it was secluded but not too far away from town, and the sounds from the water; winds; birds and trees all combined to make a perfect tune. Today the sky at dusk was orange, the clouds in the sky – more that in the morning – especially bright with this color; they plus the purplish sky color reflecting on the water. The nightfall brought him a peaceful feeling, and it especially helped after days where he was nervous.

Not wanting too return too late to his home, he made his way back to home, passing through the newly-installed streetlights on the Emlyn central square. He found them useful and fascinating, even though they did block out some of the more faint stars from the night sky. As he returned he passed through some officers of the Rumare Police Force, their green  uniforms dark in the almost-night. They did glance at him for a moment, but thankfully did not decide to stop him.

Not much happened once he arrived home. That night's dinner consisted of pasta with tomato sauce, and they had some time to play Trust before going to sleep – this was cut short though, as everygriff had to sleep early, especially him and his father.

As he laid in bed, he thought of the future. He was going to take the exam next week, and if – when – he passed, he would request his boss to become a driver for the courier company he worked in. More far-future thoughts also crossed his mind: moving out, family... but he tried to focus on the what was nearer. After some ten minutes of thinking, tiredness finally won, and he fell asleep.
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Good morning, gentlegriffs," Helltalon said as he entered the war room.

The war room was located in the Imperial General Staff building in the southern side of Griffenheim, and during peacetime it functioned as the headquarters of the – as its name suggested – General Staff of the Griffonian Empire; overseeing the Imperial Army, Navy and Air Force. Its wartime headquarters, on the other claw, were located in a newly renovated bunker in a forest some kilometers east of Griffenheim.

Boreas had not even raised the sun yet, and the building was full of activity. As predicted, reconnaissance flights had spotted a massive Solarian supply build-up in the Haukland Islands, especially the northern ones; and the Solarist navy had turned even more aggressive in its approach to Vedina, even accidentally – some say not so accidentally – entering Griffonian waters, with the Imperial Navy having to escort the Solarian ships out as a result of the incident.

In the middle of the room a giant map, similar to the one displayed in the Palace two months ago, took all the width and most of the length of the table. August Duskwing, Chief of the Army, was speaking; pointing to various symbols placed around the Hauklands and the Vedinian coast with his right claw.

"The Equestrian build-up continues along the islands. Large concentration of supplies and materiel have been spotted on the northernmost Haukland island, and we even have detected a newly built airbase along the eastern coast, with an estimated capacity of around five hundred airplanes," he said.

Duskwing took a sip from the coffee mug next to him before continuing. "We have also spotted a fleet of Solarian ships on the Winterhold port. We haven't identified all ships, but the biggest one appears to be HRMS Empress, the newest carrier in the pony navy. We assume they're there to resupply and repair," He finished, looking at Marshal Bronzetail, who had been appointed Chief of the Military High Command in the last months by Emperor Grover VI.

Fritz Ebonbeak, Chief of the Airforce, continued to speak after Duskwing. "From the Haukland base the Solarians are conducting several missions over Vedina." He pointed to the Vedinian capital. "Just yesterday they bombed Trunahm, mostly targeting the industrial center of the city, but also the central district, mostly residential and commercial." Ebonbeak then moved his claw south and then west. "Tactical bombers have also made bombing runs on the defensive positions the Vedinians have set up along the coast."

Bronzetail nodded. "The ponies look likely to launch their invasion any minute now. Are the armies assigned to the Vedinian border ready for when this happens?" He turned to Helltalon.

"Yes, Marshal," he said. "Most of the armies have been stationed in Winghagen, Cloudbury and New Skynavia." He pointed to those locations in the map. "They are ready to go when the order is given," he finished.

Bronzetail once again nodded, putting his characteristical corn cob pipe he had on his left claw on the table. "Prince Ondska is unlikely to give up even if the ponies land in Vedina," he said. "He gave that 'defiance' speech yesterday after refusing the capitulation from Daybreaker, after all."

Helltalon frowned. Ever since the days after the Red Wedding of 1011, Prince Ondska had ruled Vedina with an iron claw. The militaristic Prince had instituted a belief system centered on the survival of the strong, and the destruction of the weak; and he entered a military alliance with Erwin Highhill, forming the Northern Alliance with Nova Griffonia. His personality, and his ideology in particular, would not allow him to surrender to the Equestrians; he finished thinking.

Highhill had capitulated a month ago, surrendering to Daybreaker's armies in the former lands of the Penguin Kingdom. It was mostly unknown what happened after, as Nova Griffonia entered the same darkness that shrouded Equus in mystery. From what he could imagine though, it was not good.

Konstaninos Hellcrest, the Chief of the Imperial Navy, was about to continue, but a knight in ceremonial armor bursting into the war room stopped him from speaking. He quickly walked to Marshal Bronzetail, saluting the officer and giving him a small paper note, leaving the room as quickly as he entered it. The griffon read the paper, and looked each officer in the eye before speaking.

"Well." Bronzetail took the pipe out of his mouth. "Looks like the ponies finally did it."

"They landed?" Hellcrest said, surprised even though it was expected. 

The news jolted through him, removing all traces of drowsiness from sleep he still had from his body, and putting the griffon on adrenaline-fueled alert.

"Yes," Bronzetail said, rather bluntly. "Multiple landings last night, along the Vedinian coast and the peninsula." He looked at the map and pointed to the various points in the map he mentioned with his claw. "From the reports, landings have been made near the towns of Flyghamn, Jarnkoping, Kloby and Skyrim. Pegasus paratroopers have also taken the Jarnkoping port, with Solarian reinforcements arriving quickly, and bombers have destroyed bridges and infrastructure leading to the coastal regions of Vedina."

"Its a full scale assault," Helltalon said. "We need to act quickly."

Bronzetail put his his talons on the table, standing on his hind legs. "Helltalon, as ordered by the Emperor you and your army group will mobilize towards the Vedinian border." The marshal turned to Ebonbeak. "Tell the knights to alert the Emperor immediately."

Helltalon saluted Bronzetail, before rapidly moving out of the door. He went downstairs and into the basement of the General Staff building, where the communications centre of the Generalstab was located. With the authorization of the Chief of the High Command, he was allowed into the secretive section, giving the orders to the griffons there. They were transmitted through the encrypted radio the centre had, with a simple message: generals Marshtail, Thundertail and Mudbeak  and their armies would begin moving towards the Vedinian border – immediately.

Once he finished, he began moving back up to the war room, thinking in the process. This was the decisive moment, all that needed to happen now was to see how the Solarians would react. During the last two months, the General Staff thought of multiple possible scenarios, and most came back to the same conclusion: Daybreaker, when faced with an entire continent pressuring for negotiation, would accept an offer. There were scenarios where this didn't happen, of course, but they were given small chances of happening.

It was believed that a Second Great War would be an outcome so detrimental to both nations that it would not happen.

As he entered the room, he found out that Emperor Grover VI had already arrived. He bowed to him, and looked at Bronzetail, determination in his voice.

"The orders have been transmitted, Marshal." He saluted.

"Excellent," said Bronzetail, who once again turned to Grover VI. "Your Majesty, as I said, multiple landing points along the coast. The port town of Jarnkoping has been taken by the Equestrian marines and paratroopers, and reinforcements and supplies are arriving quickly."

The Emperor looked around the map, his eyes showing that he was thinking intensely. "Daybreaker will probably not accept  our offer from just the Reichspakt," he said. "Summon Foreign Minister Silverbeak and tell him to contact the following governments about the offer to pressure Equestria." He adjusted his glasses. "Jet Set will probably accept, he fears that Daybreaker will invade New Mareland. The Arcturians will probably accept as well if we frame it as a just demand."

"Any other nations, Your Majesty?" the Emperor's aide next to him asked.

He finished, "We can even try the Dogs in the east, they may be communist, but they may just realize that Daybreaker will not stop at Vedina and support us. Tell Silverbeak that its Grover's orders."

The aide nodded and very quickly flew out of the room, leaving Grover VI with the High Command in it.

"Gentlegriffs," he started, "Put the operation on motion." Grover took off his glasses. "Helltalon, you are assigned to Cloudbury to command your army groups on the Vedinian frontier, a train will leave at dusk. Duskwing, tell Rodier to put his griffons on alert." The Emperor then looked at Hellcrest and Ebonbeak. "The Imperial Navy will also be put on alert so its ready to move in case of a major incident, and the Air Force will begin to move and deploy a quarter of its planes to airbases within Northern Griffonia. Is that clear?" he finished.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Helltalon said, not listening to what the other griffons in the room were saying. 

As he left the building and went outside, his mind raced – he had to prepare so he could catch the train to Cloudbury at sundown. That meant that not only he had to get most of the things he had brought to Griffenheim in the last two months ready for the trip, but also that he needed to tell his wife in De Vleugels about his mission. She did know about it, and the news of the Solarian landings probably had been heard by everygriff at this point, but Helltalon still knew that these news would still be sudden, even if they were prepared for it.

He flew and landed near Harold's black Krähe, saluting the light brown griffon before entering the car. He told the chauffeur to go to the apartment he had been given last month as accommodation, since that's where he kept almost all of his things; thoughts of the task he had ahead going through his mind, and how it needed to be executed to perfection. It was still early morning, and he realized that it was going to be a long day. And a long week, and probably a long month.
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eryr stared at the Rumarean countryside as the box truck moved through it. The truck, a 1025 Grifftruck built for civilian use, made its way along the small backroad they were going through, and it was slow. Agonizingly slow. As he looked outside, he was sure that if they flew instead of using the vehicle they would arrive faster at their destination. Of course, he didn't take into account the weight of the cargo they were transporting.

Eryr was not driving the truck, as the the exam day – the second day of the next week – had not arrived yet. His co-worker, Gwendolen, was the one driving it, as she was one of the few drivers the company had that were available. Of those he knew about, Enrico was visiting his family in Wingbardy; Gareth was sick with a cold; and Llew was in one of her long-distance delivery to Flowena, not returning until the day after tomorrow.

His boss had given him the option of being in the co-driver's seat while she drove, and he gladly accepted. Today's job was about some elderly couple from Griffenheim purchasing a house and moving into the countryside to live their last years in peace and quiet – he didn't blame them, really. The problem is that when he meant countryside, he meant that the house they bought was in one of the most rural regions of the island. It was more than a hour's flight to the city of Rumare, and the only things around were trees, grass, some farmland, and a small house every now and then.

The dirt road that led to it was barely wider that the width of the truck, and its bumpiness resulted in Gwendolen having to drive really slow, lest they have an accident. The constant bouncing in his seat was annoying at first, but now it was the only thing keeping him from dying from boredom, as it was the only exciting event happening in the truck and its surroundings.

At first, he had passed the time watching Gwendolen drive, learning the controls in real time and such. This was initially good, especially in the roads with more traffic, but once they reached this part of the route it quickly became repetitive; the brake being used more times that he could count with the claws of both his talons and paws.

Then he started messing with his uniform: opening pockets, buttoning buttons, taking a look at his hat many times over and over again. His uniform was blue, similar to the colour of the Lake, and the logo and name of his company were both in the hat and in the shirt: Rumare Blue Express – one of the most generic names ever, in his opinion. The logo was a similar story, simply being a blue and green wave, the last colour meant to show Rumare's flag, which was mostly green.

Still, he mostly liked the job, especially the 'moving around to other places' part. He just hoped that he didn't have to do many trips like this in the future.

Right now he was settling on watching the outside view. Winter and fall were coming, but it was still green outside, and the temperate afternoon air made him open the window; the slight wind created by both nature and the slow but still moving truck feeling great on his feathers. In front of him he could see some gentle plains, mostly grasslands with some bushes mixed in. A bit farther away there was a small forest cut in half by the back road, and to his right side there were some small houses – a village. He reached his claw outside and touched the side mirror, wiping out some dirt that was in the glass, and tracing the borders of it.

He did try to start a conversation with Gwendolen, and this also worked for the first part of the trip, but by this time all the topics had already been talked about to death; with all talk being reduced to small talk, such as the weather, or the state of the road. Plus, Gwendolen was too concentrated in making the truck not end on its side to speak right now.

"Hey, stop doing that, its annoying me," she said.

"Huh?" Was all that Eryr could get out of his beak, his focus broken by the griffoness speaking.

"Your claws tapping on the door." She pointed to Eryr's right talon. "They're too loud."

"Ah... sorry," Eryr said, stopping the action. He had not noticed that while he was looking outside the window, he was tapping the truck's door with his right claws. It was loud if he focused on the sound they made, but he was so distracted he didn't notice it. "I was bored, that's all," he said.

"Don't think you're the only one bored of this road in the middle of the country." Gwendolen slowed the truck somewhat to pass through a particulary bumpy stretch of the dirt road.

"At least you're driving, meanwhile I just sit here and stare outside."

"I guess you're right there," she conceded, "but its not exactly all fun trying to stop this thing from ending on its side."

"Yeah..." Eryr responded.

The truck had gone into the small forest by that point, some of the larger trees blocking out the direct sunlight, a considerable feat, since it was the middle of the afternoon. Some leaves were already starting to fall into the ground, and also into the road, their light green and yellow cover making it difficult to see where the sides of it were.

Further ahead he could barely see a paved road through the forest, which was strange, as there wasn't any sort of road on the map they were using. Gwendolen also noticed this, and spoke to Eryr.

"Huh... that's weird. Its not on the map," she said.

"And its paved, which is strange for being in the middle of nowhere."

"Maybe we're using an old map. Boreas knows how many times it has been reused over the years, it even has big tears on its sides." Gwendolen threw the map to her side.

"Yeah, it could be that," Eryr said.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?" Gwendolen asked. "Can you go to the crossroads to see if there are any vehicles coming from the other road? I can't see drive and see through the forest cover at the same time."

"Sure, will do," he responded. Gwendolen stopped the truck for a moment, and he opened the door and exited the vehicle. Once he was out, the griffoness began to move the truck again.

Eryr quickly flew to where the crossroads were. The shadows from the tree made the air somewhat cooler than in the open fields, but it was still a nice, fresh temperature; especially with the light wind that was blowing all around him. It was a hard sensation to describe, but if he could do it in one word, it would be 'refreshing'.

As he approached, he noticed that there were no signs, which was strange. He finally arrived at the crossroads, and stood on the other side from the paved road. At first, he couldn't see any vehicles, so he gestured for Gwendolen to continue driving. However, he then spotted a number of trucks and other cars coming from the east, and when they were closer he recognized it as a military convoy – he quickly signalled Gwendolen to stop.

It was a small convoy – Eryr counted 13 vehicles total – but for him, it was still impressive. The Empire proclaimed itself the world's most powerful military, and almost everygriff save for a few troublemakers was proud of that fact. His father had served in the Lake Defense Force during the Empire's war against Sparleos; he didn't see any combat, but he still told him about his time there with other fishergriffs he knew, the Empire recruiting them due to their knowledge about Lake Rumare.

As the convoy passed, he could see some tanker trucks, a few smaller transport trucks vechiles, and even two tanks; he could recognize them as older Liza models from the Reunification Day parades. As they passed, he wondered if the convoy had anything to do with the situation in northern Griffonia, but he quickly dismissed these thoughts – it was probably a routine transport job for the military griffons, just as him and Gwendolen with the elderly couple's move. 

Once the convoy passed, he went back to the truck and entered it. Seeing as nogriff else was on the other road, they continued moving. 

"Crazy stuff. Wonder if that was related to what is happening in the north," he said.

"The north... You mean Vedina?" she responded.

"Yeah, that whole region, with the Equestrians invading and all of that." He pointed to the north.

"Nah, I don't think we're gonna be affected by that," Gwendolen said. "They're probably moving stuff to the small naval station they have in the southern tip of the island."

"Yeah... I guess you're right this time," Eryr joked, relieved by the explanation that confirmed his earlier thoughts.

The rest of the trip to the house was uneventful, with the truck moving as slowly as before. They reached their destination by the late afternoon, and stayed some time to help unload the heavier furniture with what he presumed was the couple's oldest child. By the time they were finished it was already dusk, and the journey back to Emlyn took other two hours – it was  night when he arrived at his home.

Tired from the long day, he only had time for dinner and spending a hour with his mother and father talking about they did in their days, before going to his room to sleep. However, before really going to bed he brought the radio with him – nogriff was going to use it anyway – to listen to some music.

In one of the news flashes for the radio shows he liked, he heard about the army movements towards the Vedinian border, which brought him back to the military convoy he saw today. He, once again, asked himself if these two events had any relation to one another, and thought for a minute or two. Eventually, he stopped putting his mind in circles by reassuring himself by the explanation both Gwendolen and his brain initially made – all a routine movement.

He turned off the radio, and went to sleep.
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Cloudbury morning found itself to be rather typical. The city, housing over three-and-a-quarter million griffons, was naturally busy, and this was magnified further by the fact that it was a work day for most of its residents. Much like one week ago in Griffenheim, and in a similar busy morning situation, Helltalon found himself in the back of Harold's black Krähe. 

The car moved at a moderate pace through the wide Plumenjar boulevard, which ran parallel to the Cloudbury River. The boulevard's location, connecting one side of the city to the other, made it a popular place for commerce, mostly consisting of small shops, although he could see that some larger stores had been opened recently.

In the space between the boulevard and the river itself, there was a riverside walk. While through most of Cloudbury's history the riverbank was a popular place of hangout and relaxations for the griffons living there, it had been bare of any structures or decoration until the late 1000's, when Kemerskai's Republicans had begun to invest in urban renewal projects. This continued, somewhat, after the Griffonian North was reclaimed into the Empire, even though the post-reclamation Cloudburian administration refused to acknowledge it – as the once-called Griffonian Republic was viewed as a bandit state by most high-ranking government officials of the Duchy.

As a result, the previously empty riverbank was now decorated by lampposts, paths, benches and picnic tables. It does look like a nice place to spend a day in with Gloria, Helltalon thought as he looked the scenery from inside the car. Not now, probably. Maybe when the situation in Vedina normalizes, he prospected. The walk would certainly look more wonderful in Mondstille, or New Year's Eve, when the snow comes.

His reverie was broken by another sight, though. Following a S-shaped curve in the boulevard, the riverbank walk merged with the paths of the fittingly named River Park. The park was normally full with the aforementioned decorations, including a large white and red gazebo in the center of it. Now, however, Helltallon could see that in the park there were several small tent structures in its centre, along with a slightly larger metal building near the gazebo.

"What are the tents for, Marshal? I haven't been mentioned about them before coming to Cloudbury," Harold asked.

"Vedinian refugees," Helltalon said. "From what I know, they have started to receive a lot of them in the last few days. Ondska is trying to stop them, but you can't really stop a griffon that wants to leave, in my opinion. There are also direct orders to the Cloudbury government from the Prime Minister and the Emperor to house them here."

Helltalon frowned. It was very rare for the Emperor to directly intervene in any domestic affairs these days. The refugee issue did cross into the foreign and military spheres – where Grover had more of a claw in – but it was still strange in the modern-day Empire. The fact that he also sent the order with the Prime Minister showed how much he cared about the situation in Vedina. Ondska certainly isn't going to be happy about this, he thought.

The car stopped at a traffic light. Helltalon took the opportunity to view the camp more clearly, without the movement of the Krähe leaving it out of sight. "What I do not understand, though, is why did they place them here," he said. "I think putting the refugees just outside Cloudbury would make them less of a disruption. We're... organizing the mobilization from here, after all."

"Perhaps they thought placing them outside the city would cause issues with the mobilization itself," Harold said. "That's where all the railheads and rail stations are after all."

"True," he said. "Seems like either way, its the same."

From his position in the backseat, Helltalon could also see several griffons in uniforms in the entrance and at various points around the refugee camp. They did not wear the drab uniforms of the Reichsarmee though, instead they were dressed in a teal apparel, with some griffons sporting a light-yellow fez on top of their heads. It was the uniform of the Cloudbury Home Guard, he realized.

His theory was confirmed when he saw some of the trucks that were parked near the entrance of the park. On their sides was a similarly coloured light-yellow circle, with a teal cross cutting through it. In the circle's middle there was a black griffon holding a sword. It was the symbol of the previously mentioned Cloudbury Home Guard; a portrayal of the Duchy's flag which followed a similar pattern.

The Home Guard functioned as sort of middle-level organization between local law enforcement forces and wider Empire-wide ones, each answering to every individual region of the Griffonian Empire they were based in. Their main purpose was to coordinate and execute security efforts in their territories, as well as providing relief for disasters and other emergencies if need be. 

Helltalon remembered last year, when particulary bad storms caused flooding in Greifenmarschen and Romau. As a result, the Herzland Home Guard along with the Reichsarmee and other organizations were deployed to give help and aid to the griffons living there. From the car, he saw the home guardsgriffs doing a similar job, unloading several metal boxes and wooden crates probably filled with all sort of food, medical supplies, blankets and such, likely provided by the Cloudburian government, or from the rare donation.

Helltalon found the Home Guard's presence to be useful. Cooperating with them would make the entirety refugee organization issue easier to manage.  This would not be too difficult, as the headquarters of the Guard were not too far from their destination, the Galluzzo Building. The traffic light turned green, and while he watched another convoy of trucks arrive to the entrance of the park, he made a mental note to meet with the Guard commander later.





The Galluzzo Building was originally built by the Republicans in 1010, and named the Presidential Military Academy. Its name was, of course, changed after Cloudbury was reintegrated into the Empire, as keeping the original name had been viewed as 'incorrect' by Archon Eros – it was renamed to the Galluzzo Building in honour of the commander of the special forces which had captured Kemerskai. The structure remained intact however, and was repurposed as the headquarters of the Northern Military Region of the Empire. 

The style of the building was typical to most official government architecture of the eleventh century, one empty of any significant decoration or ornament. Its bulky dark grey structure giving the area around it, located a few blocks from the city's historical centre, a sober; authoritative atmosphere. 

The garden outside the Galluzzo was a bit more colourful, consisting of a line of pine trees which acted as a barrier along with a chainlink fence along the perimeter of the building. In front of its doors, following a security checkpoint, were two artillery guns on display, along with a Greifkonig medium tank in the middle of the entrance's road dead end roundabout. The display of these two weapons was no coincidence – they were the ones that won Cloudbury back for the Empire.

The car stopped and parked in front of the building. A guardsgriff was already waiting for them, and opened the vehicle's door so Helltalon could step out of it. Behind the Krähe there were other two cars: the one at the back was a security vehicle, while behind his personal one there was a vehicle containing staff, amongst them Hauptmann  Moritz Clawer, his personal aide. In front of the convoy there was another security vehicle as well.

Helltalon walked in a fast pace towards the Galluzzo, together with his escorts, and entered it. The inside of the building wasn't much different from the outside in terms of aesthetics: the lobby was occupied mostly with chairs and a large front desk. Between the chairs there were coffee tables with jars and decades-old magazines and newspapers on top of them. There were also some potted plants placed along the lobby.

As he moved from the lobby and into one of the many hallways of the building, everygriff whom he passed stood at attention – this continued until he reached his destination inside the Scheer, the main briefing room. 

In the front wall of the briefing room there was a large chalkboard, with two flags on the sides of it: a smaller flag of the Duchy on the left, and a larger Imperial flag to the right. The Empire's flag was arranged in a way that the regal-looking black griffon in the centre of the orange-and-yellow bordure was easily visible. There were a dozen chairs placed in a half-moon pattern through the room, and he could also see a small water dispenser on the back. To his left there also were two maps: one of the world, and another of Northern Griffonia; he saw that the latter had several markings in Vedina and Haukland.

In the table in front of the chalkboard there was also an overhead projector, a new purchase for the Scheer he was told. With it he could rely on the changing slides and images as visual aid for the briefing, instead of the more traditional map-pointing. There were already some griffons in the room: Gunne Greyquill, the main briefing officer, and other staff as well. Helltalon walked up to Greyquill, and both officers exchanged salutes. 

"Marshal Helltalon. Good morning," Greyquill said. "Everything has been arranged for the briefing."

"Excellent. Time?" he asked.

Gunne looked to the wall clock on the other side of the room. "Its about quarter to nine," he said.

"Perfect. Just in time."

Helltalon took off his overcoat, not longer necessary due to the building's heating, and handed it to Clawer. Putting a small brown briefcase on top of the table, he opened it, and took out several papers from it. They were mainly notes, but there were also some documents and the odd newspaper in the stack. Gunne recognized it as the morning issue of Der Bürger, the most widely circulated newspaper in the Empire's heartlands. 

"Any updates for today, Marshal?" he asked. "I haven't had time to check for any developments, besides what we already know from before."

"Not much," he responded. "The Equestrians are consolidating their beachheads and trying to connect them. Ondska is fortifying the river south of Turhamn. He's even using the population of the city to dig trenches."

"He's serious about not surrendering," Gunne said. "But I think its a matter of time until that happens." Greyquill turned to look at the map of Northern Griffonia – despite the Equestrian's inherent disadvantage in having to organize and hold a naval invasion, they were almost equal in strength to Ondska. A large number of Vedina's troops and, most importantly, elite knights were lost or captured in Nova Griffonia. "Their air force is almost all destroyed, too."

Helltalon frowned in thought. Greyquill was correct, barring some hardened mountain bases, most of Vedina's airfields had been severely damaged by bombing, causing the Equestrians to establish air superiority over the country. The Vedinian navy also fared a similar fate.

"Yes," he acknowledged. "At least, the shipments we're sending are helping the Vedinians. If they tire out the ponies enough, I think they'll agree to some sort of truce. The best outcome would be to get both Daybreaker and Ondska out of Griffonia."

Greyquill hummed in agreement. "I don't think the Equestrians want to be in Vedina as much as we want to help Ondska." He turned around to grab his own stack of notes in the table. "Nogriff really likes him."

Helltalon nodded. That's something both he and Daybreaker could agree on, he joked to himself. "Three hours meeting, then we adjourn for lunch. We restart again an hour after that. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Greyquill said.

Some ten minutes later, the griffons began to arrive. Not only were the generals such as Duskwing or Marshtail present, but also all the corps commanders assigned under their command. When everygriff had found a place to sit, Greyquill began to speak.

"First of all, before we begin this briefing, let me express the sense of honour we have at the opportunity of having Generalfeldmarschall Helltalon present. It is a privilege for an hero of the Empire to speak with us," he said.

Helltalon nodded, and thanked the officer. Such flattery had already gotten past of being old by this time, but he made no comment about that. A brief silence emerged for a few seconds, to organize what he was going to say, and to give a bit more gravitas to the briefing. 

"Ladies and gentlegriffs" – he started – "The task the Emperor and Parliament have given us is not one we have been accustomed to. Instead of using our strength to guarantee victory over an enemy, this time we're using them for the hope of peace. Peace which His Majesty has worked hard to achieve. And our duty is to protect it," he finished. "Any questions?"

No talons were raised. As he looked around the room, he saw that everygriff in the room was looking at him intently, waiting for his next words. He personally knew most of the griffons here, except perhaps for the youngest ones, as fellow officers he worked during the Reunification Wars. They only ended nine years ago, after all. Once five seconds or so passed without any movement, he continued speaking.

"Excellent, then we can begin." As he said this, one of the aides moved to the projector and flipped a switch to the 'on' setting. The aide then took a map of Northern Griffonia and put it on the projector's foil, displaying the image on the chalkboard. "Despite their homeland defense advantage, the Vedinians have so far failed to stop Daybreaker's advance into their territory. The Solarists have taken almost all of the southern peninsula of Vedina, as well as a sizeable portion of their western coast, from Jarnkoping to south of Skyrim. Nevertheless, we expect them to suffer more casualties than the Vedinians," he concluded.

When Helltalon finished talking, the aide then swapped the initial map with another one, this one having coloured the areas the Solar Empire had occupied in the past days. The updated map also showed a new addition – an irregularly-shaped oval in the sea stretching roughly from Winghagen to the coasts off Rila.

"The Kaiserliche Marine has seen it fit, with approval from His Majesty, the establishment of a sea patrol zone west of the Griffonian coast. This will warn any possible vessels with intentions of illegally entering our sea territory against doing that, after the incident with the Solarist destroyer two weeks ago. It will also protect our trade routes by consequence the Empire's economic well-being." He put his right talon on the table. "After the panic in Skyfall's market three days ago due to the rumours of an Equestrian submarine near the Empire's waters, it was a crucial decision." With a talon, he motioned Greyquill to begin his part.

Now that was embarrassing. Apparently some old griffons from Griffonstone which were visiting Skyfall 'spotted' a 'submarine' when they were taking a boat tour near the city's waters. A subsequent scrambling of a clawful of destroyers and sonar detection systems revealed that said 'submarine' was only a whale that had swam too close to the shore. The couple, being elderly and from a part of Griffonia not known for its large sea life, naturally assumed the worst option.

The rumours spread and, like a game of Kirin whispers, progressed into even worse and worse versions of it. In the end, the stock and trade markets in Skyfall panicked after the submarines, in plural, were said to be hunting trade and merchant vessels in the Sky Bay. The trading in the city and – in today's interconnected world with rapid communication possible –  the Empire as a whole suffered its worst day since the uncertainty during the Griffonia-wide student protests following Grover VI's coronation in 1021.

After that it was decided that one incident was enough the patrol zone was authorized. If it was up to him, he would have done it earlier – the only reason action was taken after a major incident happened is because the Parliament, and Grover especially, were reluctant to take any action that may directly bring confrontation with Daybreaker. The mobilization against Vedina was not viewed in such way because technically it targeted Ondska.

Regardless, the incident was one of the first signs of the Northern War directly affecting the Empire. And in a particulary sensitive spot as well: it was like a big representantion of the old saying that to hurt a griffon you need to touch his wallet. Especially those Skyfall griffons that love their coin.

His internal thought was broken as Greyquill finished to speak about the state of the Vedinian military. Thanking the officer, he gestured to Clawer to switch to the next part of the presentation slides – describing Solar history and its equipment. It was perhaps more technical and 'boring', but nevertheless as important as situation reports. Or even more.





The Blue Water Hotel stood at the centre of Cloudbury, just one block away from the city's historical district. It had once been one of the tallest and most modern structures in Cloudbury, and its central location and size meant that it was the headquarters of the Republican VI Corps during the war between the Griffonian Republic and Empire. As a result, it was heavily damaged by Imperial artillery and air bombardment during the siege of Cloudbury, and not much of the original brick structure remained after the city fell.

After the war ended, the hotel was purchased by a group of wealthy Romau griffons and rebuilt in a new, modernistic style. It was even taller than before, and its old brick structure had been replaced by large glass windows and steel framing. The new Blue Water was now similar to the skyscrapers of Skyfall's financial district, and Manehattan on the other side of the ocean. This turned the renovated hotel into one of tallest buildings not only in the reconstructed Cloudbury, but in the whole of Griffonia.

Helltalon sat at one of the hotel's restaurant tables, reading the Der Bürger newspaper he had brought to the briefing earlier. He was reading the international section, although there were no new developments apart from those that he already knew beforehand. The most important news was about the Chairdog of the Eastern Dogs' Republic denouncing the 'Solar-Griffonian Fascist Empires' and declaring the EDR's opposition to both countries. It made sense, really. It was too optimistic to think they would support the Empire against Daybreaker – the dogs have been paranoid ever since the end of the Great Griffonian War. Kilometers-deep border forts, defensive redoubts and even a possible crystal enrichment program have all been rumoured of the EDR.

Once he finished reading the article – some analyst from the paper talking about what a possible flare-up of tensions with the EDR could mean for the Imperial garrisons in Deponya and Bakara – he set the newspaper on top of the table, and folded his talons together. He wasn't in the Blue Water only for the lunch break; he was also waiting for an old acquaintance  of his whom he met years ago, in the first time he had visited Cloudbury. 

Waiting for the griffon, he looked around the hotel's restaurant. It was mostly empty, considering it was quarter past noon. The only noises he could hear was the ringing of the telephone in the hotel's lobby, and its faint jazz music. There was also the voices and chatter of the few griffons inside the restaurant, most noticeably a pair of well-dressed griffonesses two tables to his right who were talking about the mobilization. Of course, by this time the news were in the minds of every griffon in the Empire.

Helltalon moved his eyes to glance at the newspaper's front page; the biggest headline in it, written in big and bold black letters, announced that the Prime Minister was set to speak today about the situation in Vedina, after Parliament approved a new 'aid package' to Ondska in a narrow vote. 

Before he could read any further though, he was broken from it by a voice coming from his side. 

"Ah, Marshal Helltalon, good morning. Sorry for being late. Traffic in the boulevard, as you would understand."

Helltalon turned to his side to greet the griffon. Mikkel Highpaw, one of the most prominent businessgriffs in Cloudbury, stood near the table. The orange-and-black striped griffon smiled at him, and extended a talon towards Helltalon, which he shook. "Its no problem, really," he said. "And Erich is just fine. We're not in the Galluzo."

Highpaw nodded, and sat at the chair at the other end of the table. Helltalon had met Mikke in 1020, when he was visiting Cloudbury for an inspection of the newly renovated Galluzo and its facilities. The businessgriff had been a known owner of a large construction company before Cloudbury was regained for the Empire, but he had pledged his full support for the new administration of the Duchy after that. 

This prevented most of his assets from being seized by the Archon for State Eleos, but most importantly opened the griffon for several favourable contracts with the government and Reichsarmee for the construction and renovation of buildings and barracks, the Galluzo being one of them. Highpaw was now also the owner of a clawful of steel factories through the wider Duchy and even an aluminum smelter in Brantbeak.

Helltalon found common interests with the businessgriff, mainly through his of admiration of Imperial tank designs – those 'beautiful beasts of steel', he remembered Highpaw saying – and continued to exchange letters and even some phone calls after Erich left Cloudbury. This was the first time in eight years the two met again face-to-face however. "So, Mikke, how is business doing?" Helltalon asked.

"Not bad, but... you probably know about the Skyfall submarine scare" – Highpaw did air quotes with his claws as he said the last word – "messed a lot of things up. I was supposed to transport steel to the Kirins but because of that incident the shipping company cancelled everything. They're not even based in Skyfall, for the Gods' sake!" After some seconds, Highpaw sighed and continued. "Now I have to organize everything again and talk to the Kirins about why the steel that was supposed to arrive today didn't come. Oh, and no refunds. Next time I'm thinking of contracting a company actually from Skyfall."

Helltalon frowned. "That's bad. I did hear about the Skyfall market panicking, but nothing about other cities nearby doing the same. That makes the incident more severe." With a talon, he gestured to the waiters in the counter that they were ready to order. "Now, don't be saying you heard it from me personally, but I think the situation will continue to heat up unless something happens," he said. Helltalon grabbed the newspapers on the table, and opened it once again to the EDR article. Understanding, Highpaw nodded, and glared at the picture of the Chairdog that appeared in it.

"Those damn dogs are also messing up the business in the Riverlands. You know, everygriff is worried that they can dig tunnels under the surface and supply terrorist forces from there. One of my friends, who owns some iron mines in Bakara, is worried about the railways being attacked. Why can't they be like Bronzehill!" he exclaimed. "I take it that the Army is helping maintain peace and order in the Riverlands, yes?" Highpaw looked at Helltalon with a grin in his beak, but with eyes that were childishly hopeful in their stare, like a chick waiting for a gift from his parents.

"The garrisons are helping maintain security, yes." Helltalon stiffened his gaze. "However most of that responsability falls to the 'national governments' in the Riverlands now, except for Lake City..." he said, almost from memory. "Which is a special case, still under Imperial Mandate due to their militarism."

"Perfect!" Highpaw exclaimed, with a smile in his beak. "Now, for more positive matters, New Mareland is pretty good this time of the year, I think. Didn't you say that you wanted to purchase a seaside holiday home there? With Gloria and the children," he asked.

"That was the plan, yes. I think I actually found a good spot on sale, on the south of Cross Island. Its warm, hilly and full of forests, and there's almost no towns or villages near it. Perfect place for a seventy-two year old griffon to retire, if you ask me!" he laughed. "I think Gloria, Theodor and Frieda will like it as well."

Highpaw nodded, eyes lightening up. "Great! I'm thinking of something similar... or perhaps a bit more exotic. Zebrica, maybe? The Zebrides and Hippogriffia sound like good places. Always good to relieve yourself from some of the stress here in Griffonia, you know?" he said. "Speaking of New Mareland, its good that Jet Set decided to support us in the Vedina conflict. It was natural, anyway, with the Empire being their biggest trade partner and them being scared of Daybreaker. Jet Set has made it so easy to do business in the Commonwealth; let's hope the Freedom Party doesn't win next year."

"Yes," Helltalon agreed. "About that, wasn't the Prime Minister waiting for at least New Mareland's support to do his announcement today? I have been too busy to focus on that, I've got to admit."

"I think that yeah." Highpaw rubbed his beak with his talon. "But I think that regardless of what Set did he was going to hold it... about this time, actually." Somewhat delayed, a waiter arrived to take both griffons' orders for lunch and interrupted Mikke. Helltalon grabbed the menu and began to look at it.

However, his attention from the menu was broken by noises coming from the rest of the restaurant.

He quickly turned his head and began to glance around it: there was commotion around the two griffons, and the sounds of chairs turning, claws scraping on the floor and fluttering wings could be heard from all sides. From the side, he heard the restaurant's door open, and half a dozen griffons entered it, all with a common destination: the television in the corner of dining area. It was previously silenced, but the griffon in the counter had turned the volume up so everygriff inside could hear it. The griffonesses to the right now also noticed the noises, and also shifted their attentions towards the device. 

The motive of the disturbances soon became clear: the figure of the news anchors in the black-and-white screen soon dissapeared and was replaced by the facade of the Blitzkralle Residence, the main work office and residence of the Griffonian Prime Minister.

"Definitely about this time," Highpaw said.





It was in times like these that Lodewijk Klap wondered how he got into this far. 

Premierminister of the Griffonian Empire, he never thought he would reach this position – Tartarus, that this position would exist in the first place back then was unthinkable! 

An unassuming member of parliament from the liberal LDP representing Central Rottendedam back when Feathisia had its own parliament and democratic system, he had been first elected in 1004 at the young age of thirty-three. He had been a stalwart moderate during his time there, if perhaps a bit to the liberal side. Nevertheless, he had always supported Talonsley's decision to create a coalition with the more royalist FHP, and was a defender of Grand Duke Gerlach. He looked to a long career in a safe seat, with maybe a cabinet appointment. Minister of Justice? He had graduated in corporate law after all.

But then the Herzland Wars and the Archon happened.

The Feathisian parliament found itself disbanded, and all its members fired without compensation. Klap joined a law firm in Rottendedam shortly after, and also worked for Witvleugel Vlootbouw, the largest shipbuilder in Feathisia at the time. It wasn't what he felt was his calling in politics – the word by that time reserved only for the Archon-designated Feathisian governor and his appointments – but he could live with it. It paid a good sum in Idols, after all.

But then Grover VI came to power and the student protests happened.

It felt like such an impulsive decision back then, but he felt that he needed to help those students. Gods, were those young chicks so full of energy and ideas! He truly felt their generation could do what his couldn't. He planned to start using his experience in law to help navigate the students in any potential crackdown that may have happened. But when Grover announced that he would hear the protester's demands, he couldn't believe it; that it was all a trick of Maar, or a ploy by the Emperor to later arrest the students.

But it was not. And his experience in actual politics meant that he was chosen as one of the many representatives that negotiated, drafted and re-drafted the new Basic Law of the Griffonian Empire, or Grover Constitution by its most common nickname. When the first Empire-wide election was held in 1022, he once again represented Central Rottendedam, this time for the liberal Griffonisches Volksfront. Due to his past, he was appointed Minister of Finance – not Justice, sadly – by Prime Minister van Cleef.

For 1026 he expected somegriff else to be chosen as leader of the GVF, like Dawnwing, or even somedog, like Copperhill. But instead the students decided to reward him for his support of them, and he achieved victory in the electi—

"Mr. Prime Minister, are you ready for the conference?" the aide asked, interrupting Klap from his inner thoughts. 

The aide, a short blue griffon, looked at him in anticipation for his answer. "Ye... Yes. I'm ready. Prepare the press," he said.

Taking a moment to adjust his suit – he thought the black did well with his yellow feathers – he waited for the moment he would appear. Two minutes later, the same aide emerged from the door and nodded. Acknowledging the griffon, he cleared his throat, and drank some water from the plastic cup he was offered. Then, he walked through the ornate mahogany door of the press room. Another aide announced his presence.

"His Excellency, Prime Minister of the Griffonian Empire, Lodewijk Klap!" the griffon said.

Thanking the aide, he stopped behind the podium. There was already a stack of papers situated on top, outlining his words. He took a look for a brief moment at the crowd of journalists in the room, scanning their faces. The press room was modern, built a few years ago as an annex of the Blitzkralle Residence, which had belonged to a minor Griffenheim noble family which was killed off in the 978 Revolution, becoming crown property afterwads.

The majority of faces were of griffons, of course, most coming from the many regions of the Empire. Some were from Gryphus though, but no Vedinians, which was ironic. However, there were some equine profiles in the room as well, some from the 'national governments' in the Riverlands, others from New Mareland; one with a beak alerted him of the only Hippogriffian in the room. 

Most imposing, though, was the large presence of the two journalists from Socialist Saddle Arabia's state-run news agency. Their serious and hard faces, dark gray suits and oiled manes giving no doubt that they didn't want to be disturbed. The only objects that shined from their outfits were the golden hammer-and-horseshoe pins on their chests reflecting the room's lights. 

On the other side of the room, three bipedal avian-like figures also stood out from the rest. The Macawian harpies, probably from the Folha de São Macaw, signalled the presence of another major Zebrican nation in the conference. Good, Klap thought, the international community does pay attention, strange that phrase may have sounded even ten years ago. He cleared his throat one last time, and began to speak.

"Thank you all for coming to this good afternoon here in Griffenheim. I appreciate the presence of all press members and other creatures both from the Empire and foreign nations, and I'm honoured for their assistance in this conference. Two years ago I became Prime Minister with one of my promises being to uphold liberty, others would say harmony, in all I could. Eight years ago Emperor Grover made the same promise to the Griffonian people, that freedom in the Empire couldn't just be an empty phrase," he started. "But there are others that have done the opposite: that have removed that promise of freedom from their people."

He took a brief glance at the press room again: most were furiously scribbling their notes, and he locked eyes and stared with one of the Saddle Arabians, her steel gaze uncomfortable. She probably thought these words were directed at Saddle Arabia. Nevertheless, he continued speaking.

"Across the sea, the faces of totalitarianism and dictatorship once again announce their terrible presence. Daybreaker has crushed an entire continent under her hoof, and is now looking outwards at the world. If we, the creatures of the world, don't stop this, Vedina will be only one of the many nations that will suffer under her regime. Torture, massacres, summary executions, aggressive expansionism: we're dealing with both Westerly and Wingfried revisited, in a mixture of never before seen tyranny!" Klap almost shouted the last word into the microphone. 

Some of the ponies from the Riverlands looked at him in slight shock, but Klap thought it as natural; the memories of the Great Griffonian War were still fresh after all, even more than a decade later after its end.

Klap also wanted to mention a third creature initially, but decided against it. The Archon was still widely popular with a lot of griffons, especially the faithful. Wouldn't do any good angering them. Some griffons would say that he had a chip on his shoulder with Eros, but he thought of it as justified – he had disbanded the Feathisian parliament and expelled its members, as mentioned. He accepted it back then, but other MPs like Kogchel did not, and had to be forcibly kicked out of their offices by the Reichsarmee.

Combine that... resentment some griffons named it, with a pinch of student activism and meetings with van Cleef, and his belief that liberty and harmony had to be actively upheld was born. Really, if one thought at it, the 'God-Empress' and Archon Eros were no different in their core, combining zealous theocratic dictatorship with continental conquest. Griffons just didn't want to admit it, even Grover.

"World-threatening tyranny requires a quick and decisive response. That's why Parliament and His Majesty have instructed the Imperial Military to undertake the difficult mission in trying to restore peace between Vedina and the Solar Empire. Our diplomatic corps will also be mobilized for the job, so that the two nations reach an agreeable peace. However, I will leave clear, that the borders of the Solar Empire will no reach any further than Nova Griffonia. In this effort we are not alone; we have received the support of numerous other nations, such as New Mareland and the Riverlands," he said. "The world is not  disunited against dictatorship."

Time to finish. He looked into the crowd of journalists. "Freedom and liberty have many enemies, but this time we're not letting them win."

Still looking at the creatures, he drank some water from the cup in the podium. Take it as a cue to raise their claws (or hooves), the press members began to ask questions. He looked around, and randomly picked one griffoness from them with his claw.

"Eirlys Softtail from Rumare," the griffoness said. "Do you think a conflict is possible between the Griffonian Empire and Daybreaker?" she asked.

Klap looked at her for a few seconds. "There will be no questions at the moment," he stated. "I appreciate if all creatures could wait until tomorrow."

With these words said, he picked up the stack of papers from the podium and walked through the door into the Blitzkralle, leaving his aides with the cleanup work.