Who Needs Harmony?: An MLP Empire Quest

[Edtherr]

@Questor

~~~~~ A great music never heard ~~~~~
​

You are King Sombra and your horn still aches. It has been aching everyday since you lost it in the treacherous fight orchestrated by your en... no, you refuse to call those hornless PEASANTS as your enemies. They yield no magic, they have no horns, their only redeeming trait is their wings. But they don't share the GLORIOUS unity you have given to your kingdom, your utopia.

Every being under your rule, from the weakest pony to the mightiest crystal entity you made with your colossal strengh, lives under one mind, yours. Not even their own thoughts are without you, your presence is absolute.

You cannot understand how they ever managed to hurt you. The temporary setback of your forces is but a trifle, a mere respite before you show YOUR PEERLESS MIGHT to these WORTHLESS scum.

You still remember the eyes, on the few times you need to sleep, of the trio that engaged you, fearful yet determined. You haven't seen live eyes in decades. they will soon be shown how the only way to live is under your complete, absolute control.

Yet... reluctantly, you have to admit, you need more preparations for the next assault. Your iron was truly spent, your forges are hungry to make armor for your soldiers. No matter. Your mines are plenty and abundant, you will soon acquire what you require and MORE.
Next time, you will not use your Flesh Horrors, no. you lost every single one on the assault and you cannot easily replace them crippled as you are. You will use the best, strongest iron you can to REINFORCE and DOUBLE your Crystal Guardians, the toughest of your troops. No fake fire that you don't have the slightest understanding in how it can exist without magic will melt them, they will MARCH on top of ALL THEIR SKULLS.

AND WHEN ALL THEIR ARMIES ARE SPENT LIKE YOURS WERE ALL WILL BOW TO THE MIGHT OF...
Wait. Whats this feeling. Many of your vassals... ceased to live. You never feel your ...
Your train of thought is disrupted by the loudest sound you ever heard, a explosion that shatters many of the more brittle crystals which were used as decoration before. The shockwave reach to your castle, YOUR IMMACULATE FORTRESS, and it rumbles beneath the fury released. A small crystal is dislodged from the ancient candle holder and falls within your eyesight.
Quickly, you change to your form of shadows and go forward to see what has happened.

Narrator: - sadly, no one able to hear the curses and shouts of denial from King Sombra had their ears intact.

PS: Act 2 of said music would be when he realizes whover the saboteurs were(if he manages to figure out this was enemy action but cmon too bad to not be), they did not even NEED WINGS THIS TIME.

 

[ChaosRuneSmith]

Yak Councils in recent history

@Questor

A Yak council is not a regular affair, nor an event to celebrate. These gatherings of shamans, elders, warleaders and more are called when the Yaks stand before a choice that may alter all land they walk occupy or when a threat that challenges all of Yak lives rears it's head.

In the year of 12 ad (after discord) there took place 3 of these within a single year. To punctuate how momentus this was, before the peace council which ruled that no clan may wage war upon another clan during the times of discord, there had not been a council for 54 years.


A council is called by the elder shaman of a tribe blowing their sacred horn utop the precipice at the end of the great valley called "the voice of the mountains" where it's echo rebreaths far and wide over Yakyakistan. The shamans apprentices walk further to the other clans to inform the general topic of the meeting and when it will be held, this usually is as soon as possible due to the nature of the council.

The meeting takes place on "the hill of split rocks" also translated to "the hill of solved issues" for reasons which will become clear later. Upon this hill there may be no food and after the gathering none may leave before the council is over. When the council has gathered a large boulder will be carried up upon the hill, when the boulder is in its place, the council has started.

There are no true rules of how the council shall proceed from this point. The wisest and eldest are trusted to make the swiftest decision possible and come to the best solution. When the solution is reached one of the leaders present splits the boulder with a mighty blow, the solution being irrevocable as a split rock can't be put together again. This is where the saying "the rock is split" originates from.

Here we will focus on the three councils who's issues and their resolutions mostly shaped the early Yak-Griffin relations.

The first council was perhaps the most remarkable. The Yaks tell that the eldest shaman of every clan received the dark omen. Cold, darkness and war was coming and it would be what discord wasn't, an attack from which there was only victory or death.
According to the stories, all shamans simultaneously blew their horns so loudly that not one Yak could not hear it.

This council started at morning and did not even last until noon. Within days the full martial might of every Yak clan would march towards griffonia to find their airborne allies.

The second council happened not long after the warriors came home from the battle of redstone pass and started with two of the Yak patriarchs asking their shamans for their wisdom.

One of the most sacred laws for the Yaks is that once two Yaks fight side by side they are kin. This law (for lack of a better term) is absolute and kin slaying is a crime without equal. This had previously not been a large issue when two Yaks from different clans had become kin. If two clans warred then the two kin would simply not partake or challenge each other in a duel depending on the circumstances. Now however almost every able bodied Yak had fought side by side with each other and beside Griffins.

The shamans saw the wisdom in dealing with this issue as soon as possible and the council was soon called.

This council lasted longer as the oldest and wisest debated and discussed. Many warriors young and old were asked to tell their stories from the battlefield. Tales of valor, death, honor and courage were told at every hour of the day and night.

In the end, two declarations were made. Griffins could be kin and the Yak who fought at redstone pass were kin. This effectively meant that a generation of no clan wars would start. Disputes and questions of honor would be solved with challenges and duels.

It is here where historians in general agree that the culture of the Yak start their change in the decades to come.

The third council occured not a full year after the last one and would be surrounded by the most controversy among the Yak.

With the increase in trade between the Griffin and Yak people there eventually came up clans that did not see reason to live as nomads and instead live as merchant princes, setting up a merchant town where the Griffin caravans came to sell their goods and supply before returning to griffonia. These mechant clans would then trade with the clans in the area. The steady supply of food and everyday items from clans and the Griffin traders meant that there was no need to move from where they were.

The third council was called by the elder shaman of the long-horn clan on behalf of the thick-hair clan. What had happened was an older warrior claimed that the settling and dependence on trade was a betrayal of the Yak way and challenged the younger chief of the clan to a duel for leadership. The warrior had lost but there were those that agreed with him. Their elder-shaman had died at redstone pass and their younger shaman did not have the wisdom to keep the peace so they turned to their ancestor clan's elder shaman who turns out had seen the potential problem with how different the Yak clans now were.

The council was called to help quell the potential unrest and preserve the peace. This council was the most split one of the three as there were two very different sides that wanted very different things. The shamans, after long discussion and pondering managed to find the heart of this unrest. Were the merchant clans still following the Yak way? the young chief of the clan where the problem had started was called forth. When asked if he and his clan still followed the Yak ways he did not reply with words.

He took off all decoration and armor until he was bare. Then, with one mighty blow he split the boulder of the council into so many pieces and with such force that all Yaks gathered at the foot of the hill could hear it and so, the third council was done and the issue settled.


____________________________________________________________________

what is it with this quest? i am getting so damn inspiered to make omakes.

well, probably too assuming to be canon but dammit, if the Dice-Gods are this in love with the Yaks then by Them i will write Them the omake sacrifises they crave!

 

[Lisain]

Another Omake, @Questor !
LETS GET
S W O L E​

---

Harder, better, faster, stronger

(alternatively: We're gonna need a montage)​

"I need to become stronger than I am now."

There was a point where he could have taken back those words.

"Oh? And what brought this along?"

Right there, when he'd heard his wife reply with those words, that had been his first chance to back down.

"... Is that a rhetorical question?"

His wife, his beautiful, lovely wife, shook her head. "No, it's not. I know you, Garrick. You're a leader, not a fighter. While I appreciate you asking that, it's just... well, there's no need for you to put yourself in harms way again. You've said it yourself before. You're much more useful in the tents than out there on the field."

And there, there was his second chance to back down.

"No... I am certain this is what I want." He replied, reaffirming his resolve. "I hate feeling useless... Watching you and hardbeak able to do what I can't... I can't stand it, especially when I know I can put in the time to make myself better. And as the emperor, it's my duty to be an example for every other citizen of the empire. If I can't at least look like I can claw the head off a troll, then how will they have faith in their own ability?"

"If the king doesn't lead, then how does he expect his subordinates to follow, hm?" Gabriella quoted.

"Exactly," He nodded, "I'm surprised you remember me saying that..."

"And what makes you think I wouldn't remember?" She said, a certain twinge he had come to associate with annoyance in her voice. "I may not nearly be as good at chess as you are, but I know enough that moving the king as one of your first moves is a rather insulting gesture."

"Ahah... ah... hmm... Well, at the time, I wanted to get a gauge on how well versed you were at the game."

"By making as many stupid moves as possible while still checkmating me?"

In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have gone with 'honesty is the best policy' in regards to his reply.

"... yes."

And with those words, his wife's smile grew, eyes filled with a new fire, before she turned around on the bed they shared and spoke. "3 A.M. That's when we start."

His fate had been sealed.

---

The first day started with him getting thrown out their balcony window.

With instincts honed through his wifes training and war, he had only barely managed to right himself and soften his landing with a wing flap before crashing into a conveniently placed pool of very cold water.

"Are you insane, woman?!"

His wife, already covered in her battle gear, laughed softly before landing near his suddenly very sore body. "I told you, 3 A.M. Sharp. And what do you do? Sleep in."

"... I'm not a morning griffon..." He mumbled half-heartedly, attempting to dry himself off with a shake.

"Better learn to become one then."

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to throw me out the window if I didn't wake up! Last time you did this you just kicked me off the bed..."

She lifted him out of the pool with annoying ease and threw a towel at his face. "You weren't in any real danger. I had the pool dug here just in case. And you were the one who said you wanted to become strong. Becoming strong isn't all about putting on muscle. You have to learn to stay vigilant."

"And that includes tossing me out a window."

"And that includes tossing the poor baby chick shivering in the cold out the window, yes."

"Tch." He finished up toweling himself off and put it over his neck, knowing he'd need it for later. "So, what tortures do you wish to inflict upon your prisoner today, my queen?"

She placed a nail to her chin, giving them impression that she was thinking deeply. "Hmm... let's start off with... 100 pushups, 100 sit-ups, 100 wing-ups, and a round of running and endurance flying to the build site for the memorial."

"... That's it?" He asked, genuinely confused. His usual workout was much worse for just keeping up his current fitness.

"That's it. For a warm up at least."

"Alright then, let's get started..." He spoke as he got himself into the proper pushup form, one his wife had drilled into him the first go around.

"Oh, no, not like that." She chuckled out. "For starters... guards! if you could bring out what we had archimedes prepare!"

from above, his usual standing guard dropped down, also in combat gear, one in particular carrying a bundle of cloth on their back.

The guard unceremoniously dropped the sack to the ground, it flowering open and revealing a strange bundle of shining metal, wires, pulleys, and springs.

"You are going to be doing those exercises with this on."

He walked over to the strange contraption and carefully prodded it, finding that it barely moved under his touch, before turning back to his wife. "When I was 'tortures,' I didn't expect you to literally bring out a torture device."

"I didn't realize Gawain was the one I was training, with all this complaining..." She joined him at his side and lifted up one of the parts to the device, wrapping the cold metal around one of his limbs. "Here, stay still, I'll help you put it on."

It was more than a few minutes before the entire thing had been put on, but after it was finally done, he had gone from regal looking griffon to sporting the 'restrained prisoner' look.

"WHat even is this?" He said, trying to move one of his limbs forward and failing to do so. "I can barely move in this thing..."

"The archimedes adjustable training harness! Heavy enough on it own to feel like you've put a boulder on your back, and with tension springs and pulleys to up the resistance. And don't worry too much, you'll only be wearing this for warm-up. For now, at least." Her words filled him with no confidence as she fiddled with something on his back. "Try moving now. I loosened the tension a bit."

Once again, he tried taking a step forward, this time putting a bit more effort into it. He found he could move, albeit with great difficulty. "You truly are an incorrigible slave driver, you know that?"

"You know you love me for it~" Gabriella sing-songed. "Now into position! We don't have all day!"

Getting into pushup position proved to be just as difficult as attempting to do push ups back when he had first taken the throne, but if Garrick was anything he was no quitter. And, after some rebuking from his wife, he managed to get himself into proper form.

"And now to 100."

Taking a deep breath, he let his arms fall into an L-shape, bringing his body closer to the earth. Just as he was reaching the end of his descent, he suddenly felt another weight added on top of him, nearly causing him to fall flat on his face.

"Good, good... you didn't instantly collapse." His wife spoke from atop his back. "Well, get on with it. you've only done half of one so far."

He could feel her smugness from atop him, and couldn't help but feel this was going to be a long, long year...

---

"Welcome to your new home for the next year or so!"

The sun had broken through the horizon, leaving the snow covered pass away with light. Ruins of an amphitheatre from days long past lay around them, columns of marble lying on their side, along with a variety of other things that would seem out of place, such as rope and bricks. Seats and stairs had been carved into one face of the pass, following the gentle slope to the top, where a few of the royal guard watch vigilantly. On the other, laid a sheer cliff face, the perfect backdrop for whatever announcement or play was happening that day.

However, today, the main attraction would be her husband.

Said husband was currently lying on the ground, burying his body in the snow to cool off from the intense warm-up she had put him through, their two children circling around him and building a mound of snow atop his prone from.

"Papa's a snow griffon, papa's a snow griffon!" The youngest called out.

"Come on, lyn, let's see if we can get it even higher!"

"Higher! Higher!"

Watching her two children brought a serene smile to her face, "Come now, children, your father needs to get back to his workout. I'm sure he's had enough laying about."

"Mmf Fnn Hmff."

"I said, I'm sure he's had enough of laying about."

Garricks kingly visage popped out of the snow, gave her a hard look, sighed, and rolled over, collapsing the snow pile on top of him.

"Awww..."

"It's okay, Gwyndlyn." She reassured her draconic daughter, "I am sure he will be ready to dive back in the snow before you know it."

"Mhmm." She replied, apparently now distracted by rolling up a ball of snow in her hands, "Snowball fight, 'wain!"

"You're on!"

The two shot off to a nearby snowbank intent on continuing their plans for the morning.

Her husband, meanwhile, dragged himself over to her and flopped down on the ground. "So... ha... What next... ha... my queen?"

"Still tired? Even after that break?"

"It ... was... haa... only ten minutes..."

"Ten minutes is all you'll get on the front line! Now up and at em!" She yelled. "We're getting you into fighting shape whether you want to or not!"

"Alright... give me... a moment..." He took a deep breath before coming a shaky standing position. "What's... the plan...?"

"The plan right now is to work on your wing endurance." She said sternly, using the voice she projected back in her mercenary days. "After that, arm strength, then leg strength, back and abdominals, another round of wings, and then a cooldown run."

"It's... not going to be... as simple... haa.... as it sounds, is it...?"

"You can bet your ass it won't be!" Gabriella took out a metal flask and passed it along to the still quivering wreck in front of her. "Here, take some of this. Should help you get through the rest of today."

Garrick gingerly took the flask and took a small sip, his eyes widening a bit. "Honeyed water...?"

"Yup! Plus a bit of alcohol and some other bits here and there for a kick. Drank it a lot back in my mercenary days. It'll get ya through a lot. Did for me."

He took another sip before capping the vessel and turning to face her. "Haa... alright. Wings. Let's get to it."

She walked slowly over to where the pile of bricks sat, making sure her husband wouldn't trip over himself just walking there.

"See these bricks? They're your new best friend. Wings out," Garrick complied, letting his wings stretch to their limit, "Now hold still... If I don't do this right, you'll get injured, and that would suck for the both of us."

One by one, she placed a pyramid of bricks along his wingspan, making sure they weren't accidentally digging into something sensitive and securing the stacks with rope.

"I've placed twenty for now. There's going to be more in the future, but for now, that'll do." She nodded to herself, seeing that her handiwork was holding in place. "Now, what I want you to do is slowly, and I mean slowly, lower your wings. Keep them there for several seconds. Then raise them, and keep it there for several seconds. Finally, back to level, and hold it for several seconds. You are going to continue doing that until I say stop."

"How many... should I aim for...?" He strained out, his wings already trembling.

Well, if she were being honest with herself, 100 would be fine.

"150."

But it was always nice to shoot for a higher target. And she doubted Garrick would do something as stupid as sprain his wings on the first day of harsh training. He knew when to stop.

"150... haa... Bullying a middle-aged griffon like this... your cruelty knows no bounds." The life seemed to bleed out of him. "But needs must. One...! Two...!"

---

"Mama, why are you tying rocks to papa?"

Gwyndlyn had long since stopped playing with 'wain (He was a big cheaterface! Making a big snowball and rolling it at her... grrr), and had decided to sit down next to her mama, who was tying rocks to papa.

"'Cause he needs to get stronger, lyn." Her brother answered from the other side of mama, still flipping through the book he'd brought (He wouldn't even let her look! She didn't know how to read yet, but she knew the letters!) "You know how mom's really strong? She's trying to make dad like that."

"But papa's already strong!" He could lift her up and throw her in the air and all sorts of strong things!

"Thank you darling." Papa spoke, "But I'm still not strong enough."

"Oh." Gwyndlyn still didn't quite understand it (how could anyone be stronger than papa? Papa was the best! Even if he lost to mama sometimes), but she nodded anyway. "Okay..."

She just didn't know why he had to lift rocks now (Archie said they were called boulders. That was a word for reaaaaally big rocks), instead of do something awesome like play with her.

Feeling a little frustrated, Gwyndlyn walked over to the ropes mama was tying, poking and prodding the line. Maybe she could still play with papa...? Mama said he needed to carry heavy things, and 'wain always said she was heavy when she jumped on him, so obviously she just had to be one of the things papa carries!

Revitalized, She quickly belly flopped onto the ground and rolled side to side, getting herself tangled in the chords.

However, her stealthy actions did not go unnoticed, and soon she found her mama's claws around her form, plucking her away from her recent mastermind scheme.

"Noooooo..." She found herself saying, reach back toward the ropes.

Her mother, noticing her mood, sighed and turned to her. "Let me guess... You miss play time with papa?"

Slowly, Gwyndlyn nodded. "Morning is Gwyndlyn's turn..."

Her mother pulled her close to her chest, giving her a warm hug. "I know, I know... But this will be fun too! I promise. Just watch."

She put her down and went back to securing the ropes, giving one final tug before pulling him upward. "Next task! Short and simple." She pointed toward the sheer cliff face next to them. "Climb. Now."

Her papa looked to her, then looked to the rocks he was attached to, then toward the cliffs, and then back at her. "Are you-"

"Tick tock, husband. You're alcohol stash is on the line."

He sighed before walked over to the wall and getting a clawhold.

Gwyndlyn started to wonder what was so fun about watching papa climb a wall (she did it all the time and mama everyone only yelled at her when she did it. It's not like they couldn't get new curtains...), but then he tried to move one of the boulders off the ground.

instead of the boulder going up, papa went down. Plop, straight into the snow.

"Hihihihi!" She giggled, "Papa! That's dooown! Not up! Mama said up!"

His hard burst out of the snow, giving a thumbs up gesture. "I'm still okay, thank you all for asking... And thank you for the information, sweetheart."

She hopped over to papa and tried lifting him out of the snow (papa was heaaaavy, it wasn't her fault she wasn't a big dragon...), but all she could manage was accidentally pulling out a couple of feathers.

"Ah- It's okay, Gwyndlyn, your father is alright." His form popped out of the snow like of one archie's diamond dog in a box toys, "See? All good."

"Well if you are all good, then get back to climbing!"

"Yeah, get back to climbing papa!" She repeated after her mother.

"Haha... yes, I suppose I should..."

Papa went forth once more, claw to the wall, but as soon as he tried to lift himself up, his hand slipped, and he plopped right back into the snow, pebbles from where he tried to grab falling loose and thunking onto his skull.

"Hihihi!" She laughed again.

Mama was right, watching papa was fun!

---

"Knight to F7"

For the past several hours, Gawain had watched his father put himself through hardship after hardship under his mother's watchful eye. Using bricks, carrying boulders, climbing sheer cliffs, attempting to lift one of the largest rocks he had ever seen by just lifting it through wing power...

Of course, Gawain understood well enough why his dad did this. He kept an ear to the ground. Or, to his dad's office (He still hadn't found out about the tunnel he, gwyndlyn, and one of their diamond dog friends had dug to the backside of one of his office cabinets), and so he knew perfectly well of the threats to the nation. Even though his parents tried to downplay it (He wasn't a kid anymore! He could handle it!)

So, he had done his best to cheer for his dad early on. He had eventually made it to the top of the cliff, and Gwyndlyn had been so happy she had nearly burned his book (He really did love his sister, but she had the strong propensity to cause massive amounts of destruction when she got bored, whether she meant to or not),and had walked next to him as his mother had forced him to drag a boulder all the way to the coast of aquiline and back, but he, unfortunately, just didn't quite have the endless enthusiasm that Lyn seemed to have, and thus sat out for the rest of the exercises.

Therefore, he had decided to take out his book and read while offhandedly challenging one of the royal guards to a chess game.

'Knight to E4...' he thought to himself, 'well if he's going to do that...'

"Knight to D8."

He had already asked his mom when they'd be done, and as of asking ten minutes ago, she'd said he only had one more exercise to go.

"My prince," The guard, who had remained silent with his face tightened in concentration until now, began speaking, "If I may speak...?"

He flipped a page. What, no! Dawnwing, you can't do something that reckless! "Ah, yeah yeah, go ahead... don't really need permission to speak with me like you need to with dad, do you?"

"It is only proper." The guard replied. "I simply mean to ask, what do you make of this situation...?"

The situation...? "Hmmm... Well, you put up a good fight. I'm only half paying attention and you've taken a lot of my pieces. But I'll still win in the end. I can already see the path to victory from here."

The guard rolled his eyes and made a move. Rook to A1, putting his king in check. All according to plan.

"No, my prince. I meant on your father's current state."

He lowered his book for a moment and turned to face where his father was. Currently, it seemed they were in what his mother called the 'cooldown phase,' which really just meant forcing dad to run up and down the steps of the theater with that weird body armor thing he'd seen his teacher making the night before (Not that anyone was supposed to know he was up past his bedtime.)

"Dad's just being dad. He puts his mind to something, he does it. That's just how he is."

And king to H2... how will he deal with this...?

"I mean in if his body can handle it." The guard corrected, "He is no warrior, despite having fought on the battlefield. And at the end of the day, he has never been pushed like this... We royal guards have a similar routine, and many who accept tryout for the guard fail to keep up the rigorous training."

Gawain thought for a moment. "You know... I never really thought about it. Dad's just... dad. I can't really imagine him failing. at anything."

Well, maybe arm wrestling his mom. Or out drinking gramps. Or getting lyn to stop breaking things. Or keeping his desk clean. Or- oh, pawn to H5! Playing it safe, huh...? knight to E6! bye bye free pawn~!

"I see. So you have complete faith in him."

He turned another page. Dang it Dawnwing! All you had to do was talk to the girl after healing her with the sun stone, and what do you do, ignore her and go talk to some other girl! "Of course...? Why wouldn't I?"

"... I suppose I am being foolish. You are right, of course. Your father will get through this somehow."

And now he's pushing with pawn to H4. Rook to G7. Check~!

"'Wain! 'Waaaain!" Gawain looked up, hearing the familiar high pitched voice of his sister call out from atop the stairs, next to the collapsed figure of his father and the beaming look of pride on the face of his mother. "Papa's finished for today! Let's go home!"

Gamain closed his book, using one of his feathers as a bookmark. "Dang, was hoping to finish this chess game before then..."

The guard shook his head. "I resign, my prince. I could fight my way out of this position easily, but I have no doubt that with your full attention dedicated to me, I would find myself at a loss."

Gawain beamed "Another win for me~!"

And another day closer to beating dad!

'Although...' He turned to face the exhausted form of his dad at the top of the stairs, 'Dad never does stop improving himself... I wonder if I'll ever beat him...?'

Maybe he should ask mom for some training too...? All his friends were joining the morning exercise clubs... but he had his mom to count on.

On second thought, dad does look like he's in a lot of pain.

... Well, he could decide later. Maybe now that he was tired he could finally beat dad at a chess match~~!

---

Decided to cut it a bit short, since it was already exploding in length...

 

[ChaosRuneSmith]

[Capitalism intensifies]

@Questor

"Ladies, gentlegriffs... We have here, an opportunity for profit." Fethernandes proclaimed over the general murmurs.

The room became silent. Until it wasn't.

"While I appreciate you going straight to the point but I believe we will need some context."

"Wait! I wanna make a betting pool! I'm sure-"

"These royal I.O.U's are worth more than gold!"

"Dammit!"

"I think most of us were thinking of the same thing. Everyone who matters is looking on them right now."

The "secret meeting of peers" which was a fancy way of saying a bunch of minor merchant princes, marketplace owners and caravan masters meeting in the V.I.P. area of one of their tavern houses became loud with talking and murmurs as the short-lived order died.

"ENOUGH!"

Lady Windholm, one of the three richest griffins at the meeting yelled as she slammed the table, silencing the room.

"I have wasted enough time coming here and I do not want to waste more. Talk, and it had better make sense."

"Well, in short we stand to make money and do some good for the crown. The the normal peasantry are... Unfamiliar with the idea of such large usage of I.O.U.s. Being given paper instead of coin. We all know that unrest and worry is the worst break on trade outside of a plague so, we do our service to the crown and buy these I.O.U.s from them... At three quarters of their value. I believe we together should have that amount of coin simply weighing down our pockets while still having some change left."

The silence that followed was a very different kind than the first. One could be forgiven for believing that a plot to kill the emperor had been suggested. In that total silence however, many similar thoughts occurred. Costs, balances, risks and the sweet seductive sound of profit.

"Costs?"

The one word Kursk Carrow said conveyed everything they needed. Not that they wouldn't have to consult their most secretive books and papers themselves but by suggesting it, Fethernandes Deeds had instantly earned the title, or noose, as head conspirator.

"Total for the entire empire? Between twelve and thirteen hundred. 300 is focused on the main royal suppliers but the war muster and the rush to fill larders forced them to spread the purchases far and wide. The main suppliers will probably only sell if they have solvency issues. their faith in the crown and patriotism not to mention their own savvy will keep them from selling."

"This is a bet, what are our guarantees?"

Paulter Wicks asked. A new blood mostly here for his newest fortune made as an insurance seller funded with his family fortune. Pure slime in the eyes of many in the meeting but one that had was terrifyingly skilled at making a profit.

"Our Royal Highness the Emperor. And the years financial plan. There is no talk or even consideration of not paying back the I.O.U.s and no doubt that the taxes will cover it."

How the Griffin could possibly have that information was not a question anyone wanted to ask and few even thought of. It made sense. Every merchant worth their salt knew a rough estimate of the empires taxes.

"And why would we do this?" Lady Windholm asked. "All I see is the possibility of gaining the very direct ire of the crown on us if we use the Emperor's I.O.U.s to trick the population out of their money. We do not even know if it is possible to buy the damn things or if they are exclusive to the recipient."

"How fortunate then that I have already gained the answers for those questions. It is fully allowed to form a secondary contract where the payout of the I.O.U. is transferred to another as long as it contains the signatures of both parties. And exactly as you said, foul play would be a direct insult to the emperor. No one would be dumb enough to do such a thing. If the seller felt cheated or coerced then they need only bring it up to the closest guard."

The contemplative silence settled again. A guarantee profit at basically no cost. Surely such a deal was simply too good. Something was wrong here but no one could seemed to find it. Fethernandes hid his smirk in his drink, to make a group of the keenest and richest griffins suffer the torture of trying to untangle how they weren't the smartest being in the room. A rare and exquisite pleasure.

Eventually the silence was broken by Mr. Carrow.

"I assume that you have already bought all that you could."

"Yes." Came the short reply.

The Carrow pouted his beak and narrowed his eyes before he nodded. Then, with a grunt of effort, the very large griffin got up from his seat. He took out a gold coin from his plume and flicked it to one of the other griffins in the meeting, Jonah Tulb.

"You were right, he's a sharp one." He turned to Fethernandes again and gave another nod before turning around and walking out.

The meeting took that as it's closure and the rest of the griffins walked out. The sound of slightly hurried walking and talking to their aids could be faintly heard until the door closed.

Only Fethernandes and Jonah remained.

"I made a bet with him that you would be someone of note." Jonah answered the question Fethernandes didn't have time to ask. "Kursk may be ruthless hulk but never anything but fair."

"Was that before or after I rejected your job offer?"

"After. I believed it before that, that's why I offered. But I saw it in you during the meeting. I never bet without knowing the outcome. That's why I bought I.O.U.s"

Fethernandes startled a bit at that. Before he gave a amused sigh.

"Bit arrogant of me to assume I managed to outsmart you."

"Yupp. You can't expect the student to defeat the teacher so fast."

"Teacher eh? Haven't been much teaching."

"Oh come now. I gave you everything you needed. And you seem to have learned those two lessons perfectly."

" 'First lesson: There are three ways to get rich;' " he said in a deep, silly-serious voice. " 'Be first, be smarter or cheat. Second lesson: There is only one guarantee for long term success; Provide a service or product that better the lives of griffins around you.' "

they both laughed. Not a polite, business laugh but a lighthearted one, a comfortable laugh.

"well." Jonah said, getting up from his seat. "i shouldn't keep you. I'm sure you have something or another to do."

"it was good talking with you." Fethernandes said. "we should do it more often."

Jonah paused in the doorway, "oh i wouldn't worry about that, with you courting my daughter I'm sure we will have many chances to talk."

Fethernandes choked on the drink he tried to finish. Before he could muster a reply Jonah Tulb had already left, laughing as he did.

______________________________________________________

the second omake my muse made me write at gunpoint.

inspiration note: i love the movie "Margin call" probably my favorite movie period tied with "The Big Short". yes i like economics, why?
this was in part inspiered by it. one of the main characters is named John Tulb and he says the line "there are three ways to make a living in this business: be first, be smarter or cheat."

 

[ChaosRuneSmith]

Paper = Gold
@Questor


Nicklas Bones was troubled.

He had been staring at the Imperial I.O.U. he had bought earlier today.

He had heard about to the horrible creatures at the battle of Redstone pass. How they drove those who looked at them mad. He realized the arrogance in the comparison but could not find anything more apt.

As he walked to the market this morning, he saw a prominent farmer argue with a merchant. He had asked what the problem was out of curiosity.

"That stubborn softbeak won't accept the loan paper i got from the emperor! Its a loan from the emperor for feathers sake! Does he not think it's going to be payed? I even offered to pay more than what i would have paid in coin."

Nicklas had bought the I.O.U. soon after. The farmer had thanked him and left, not understanding how with but 4 sentences he had thrown Nicklas' entire view of money into question.

"What..." He asked the empty room. "Is the difference between this paper claiming a value of 50 gold coins and a pile of 50 gold coins?"

The question had been asked several times, and several high proof drinks before.

"Trust. Trust that this will be payed. That i will be paid back."

So it was a loan. A contract between two griffins. So what? That's normal, everyday things.

But you don't sell loans. How could you? Why would you? It's just words. It's nothing. It was money later. Who would buy something that was nothing?

But it wasn't nothing. Loans had worth. So this paper, claiming it was worth 50 gold, was worth 50 gold. If the money were guaranteed. then the loan was worth as much now as later.

This spiral of thoughts had plagued him this entire night. No rest could come as he walked like a ghost. Trying to once again to make sense the world of money which he and his family lived in.

Thoughts of I.O.U.s, money, loans, transactions, investments, fees, contracts and more flowed thought his mind. scenarios and thought experiments were acted out, refined and repeated.

Now came the question that opened the abyss. The logical end of this madness.

What if you simply used these papers as coins? The crown had all the gold and silver and used a form of I.O.U. that was redeemable by anyone for the entire empire's economy. No one except the emperor had access to the coins.

All works out. All is fine.

Then... you remove the coins. No one knows the coins are gone except the emperor.

What happens? What would happen if no one ever asked about the coins. Everyone just used the paper and everyone thought they had coins in the royal vault. The answer was as fascinating as it was horrifying.

Greed was a dangerous beast. It was what drove wealth. it made griffins strive beyond a simple living, wanting more. But if you allowed it, it would eat you alive, driving you to do things that no sane or good griffin would do.

This beast was no stranger to Nicklas. He viewed it as a wolf-like beast, one he always remembered to confront regularly in his mind. When he now closed his eyes, he saw not something as large as a wolf. Not even as large as a troll. The beast that stalked around him was as large as a dragon, its grin salivating with hunger and its voice like that of love, flowing like warm honey.

"If no one looks, what stops you from making more paper than you have coin? more paper than you could earn in a year, a decade, a lifetime? The peasants aren't going to want the money back. The paper IS money. As long as they don't ask, nothing will go wrong. You hold the secret to infinite riches in your talons."

The beast stared at him, its eye as large as the sun, the maw large enough to swallow cities, its paws leaving ruin in its tread. if he could tame this beast… he could...

He opened his eyes and took another deep drink. His talons were shaking again. He had to be steady. He must write. If it so is the last thing he did, he must give this to the emperor. He could trust no one else with it.

This beast he saw was not real. But the power of this little slip of paper was. On its back this nation could flourish like nothing ever before or under its weight could entire city-states could fall.


The Bones estate's servants would later find Nicklas passed out in his study, passed out in the chair by his desk. After plenty of water they managed to put him to rest in his bed where he would peacefully sleep for 20 hours. it was later found out that the bottle of schroomshine was a local brew, made from a special mushroom that, it turns out, caused hallucinations. Nicklas would save the poor griffin and his diamond dog partner from being run out of town, even thanking them to the confusion of both.

the reason, which he was keeping in his solid iron safe until he could muster the courage to either burn or send, was nothing more or less than a perfectly written essay.

Currency Considered:

an insight in the nature of currency
and
the merits and dangers of trust based currencies
​

_______________________________________________________________________________​

​

thread right now:
YOU can make an omake, YOU can make an omake, EVERYONE CAN MAKE AN OMAKE!

Click to shrink...

daddy needs them omake bonuses baby!

gotta make sure sombra gets his shit pushed right in and our new neighbours like us

SPEAKING OF OMAKES!

this is the last one, i swear.

edit: forgot the inspiration note

this here exists thanks to:
Extra History - the history of paper money over on youtube
my own facination with economics and banking

the essay's title comes from Jonathan Law's text "Money and Trade Considered: With a Proposal for Supplying the Nation with Money"

 

[Chronic]

First Draft of a Treatise on the First Winter War by Adrian Dawnquill

@Questor

The Winter War of 11 a.D. is no doubt the defining event of this young, new age. The united stand of the three free races against the slave army of the Dark King will surely be sung about until the end of time. Their victory has already inspired thousands, and the stratagems that his Imperial and Royal Majesty, Emperor Garrick I. The Unifier, Emperor of Gryphus, King of Griffonia, Inheritor of the Imperial House of Gryphus etc. implemented against the Dark Army in advance of and during the battle of Redstone Pass in his position as leader of the Northern Alliances war council is sure to be studied by countless prospective war leaders.

This treatise aims to record the events of the First Winter War – and it is the First, for even at the time this was written it was clear that this war would only be the first of its kind – for posteriority and formulate tactics to be used against the Dark King in the future. Even if the Dark King will one day be slain for good by the righteous claw of the Empire, the spirit of tyranny and evil that emboldened this pony surely lives on in dark hearts and minds across the world, threatening the lives and liberty of common Griffons forevermore if not warded of by cold steel, strong wings and most importantly sharp, analytical minds. For as important as it is to remember the First Winter War, rejoice in the victory and revere the martyrs that made it possible, it is even more important to draw the right conclusions from it and not let complacency and belief in the obvious ideological superiority of a Free People over a dark slave master blind the eyes of ones' mind.

The decisive victory at Redstone Pass was made possible not only by faith, sacrifice, gunpowder and cold steel as the minstrels might lead you to believe, but by decisions taken by both the leaders of the Northern Alliance as well as the Dark King and it would do us well to take a closer look at both sides of the equation here. The behavior and military capabilities of the Dark King and his army have been the topic of choice for multiple military minds already, most notably my fellow Grandmaster, the revered Kingslayer Konrad Hardbeak. I will also add my perception of that foul unicorns' military decisions and capabilities for completeness' sake, but the latter, more expansive parts of this treatise will focus on the decisions taken by the leadership of the Free Peoples as well as the capabilities of their armies.

In my position as Grand Master of the Imperial Order of the Knights Panther I have been privileged with a seat on his Imperial and Royal Majesties war council during the First Winter War and have thus been privy to most of the grand and petty decisions that make up any campaign. But while the Northern Alliance won a well-deserved and great victory, I believe that future campaigns might be fought even better and with lower casualties if the right lessons can be drawn from its leaders few mistakes.

While I am aware that some may frown on such open criticism of ones' lieges' abilities in the arts of war, I have come to know His Imperial and Royal Majesty Garrick I. as a humble and open Griffon, who welcomes constructive academic criticism and is always eager and willing to improve his ability to serve the people of the Empire. And should His Imperial and Royal Majesty take issue with my observations, I have no children or family to disgrace, and leave the Knights Panther in capable and experienced claws.

Before we expand on that, let us move on to the capabilities displayed by the Dark King during the First Winter War. To be quite frank, the popular view of the Dark King as some sort of military mastermind that fought His Imperial and Royal Majesty, Emperor Garrick I on equal footing in a battle of wits and strategy is nothing but fiction. In fact, the current consensus of the Empires military minds is that the Dark King conducted his campaign in perhaps the most amateurish way in remaining recorded history. His obvious inexperience at warfare led to him bungling the powerful advantages his terrible magics and the superior numbers of his army afforded him over the armies of the free peoples.

We can only speculate at the Dark Kings objectives in the First Winter War. It is unknown whether he performed any reconnaissance of the forces or the Empire he was up against, since while no spies or scouts of his were ever discovered in Griffon lands, the capabilities afforded to him by his dark powers are a complete unknown to Griffonkind. The broad consensus is that his goal was to break the military power of the Empire before replenishing his armies using Griffons enslaved by his magic, creating an escalating army of slaves that would overrun the cities of Gryphus one by one., using the Dark Kings magic to break their fortifications.

This conclusion has been based on the immediate, impatient attempt by the Dark King to fight a decisive battle against the Alliance Army at Redstone as well as the fact that his army of one hundred thousand would have been incapable of properly garrisoning more than a few cities even once the main army of the Alliance had been defeated. Needless to say, to crush any future aggression by the Dark King before he can get access to any concentration of civilians has to be the centerpiece of our defensive doctrine against the scourge from the south. The Peregrine line of fortifications is intended to do just that.

In addition, cities in the south of the Empire should create dispersed shelters and warehouses in the wild woods, to allow the local civilian population to evacuate and survive in the woods in case the Peregrine Line falls. From what has been observed, the Dark King prefers to move his army in big, tightly coordinated groups. In addition, the Shadow Kingdoms worker slaves tend to work automated routines with little independent thought or ability to react to changing outside conditions. This indicates that the Dark Kings ability to control multiple groups of slaves at the same time have limits. Thus, it seems highly likely that the Dark Army would be unable to conduct a dispersed search for refugees across a large area of chaotic, inhospitable terrain.

To confirm this theory, it would be wise to order a series of large-scale raids into the Dark Kingdom, allowing the Empire to truly test the limits of the Dark Kings ability to multi-task.

The heavy focus on the gathering of intelligence by agents employed by the Empire itself proved to be decisive during the First Winter Winter War. Without clear intelligence on the marching routes of the Army of Shadows, it would not have been possible to set up the field fortifications and traps at Redstone Pass which proved to be the tyrants undoing. But the question of why this sort of vital scouting mission had to be performed by agents outside of the Imperial Armies command structure remains an important one. The Imperial Army as it is now has no scouting detachment. All the findings of Imperial spies and scouts have to run up the chain of command to the Emperor itself before being relayed back down to the army commanders in the field. While in a campaign against an enemy focused on achieving a decisive battle the Emperor will also be in command of the only army group travelling the region, in a campaign with smaller, more independent commands such as a large scale raiding operation, it would be necessary for each independent command to have its own scout contingent to enable them to react quickly to changing circumstances on the campaign map.

Of the tactics employed during the battle of Redstone, few can be seen as suboptimal or even mistaken, but I have seen it argued in certain circles that His Imperial and Royal Majesty misjudged the capabilities of our new allies, the Yaks, and thus used them unwisely.

Deploying them in static pockets to stiffen the backs of the infantry and provide a counter to the Dark Kings crystal abominations failed to make use of their explosive speed and the utterly devastating weight of their charge. These people argue that the knightly orders would most likely have performed equally as well as the Yaks as units of the line, especially since only few of the enemy's abominations were able to survive Imperial ranged attacks, while the Yak Chargers would very likely have been more effective than the knights if deployed to counter-charge the final charge of the Dark Imperial Guard. The reason the war council came to the decision it did was because at the time there were serious doubts about the discipline and reliability of the disparate Yak clans. An uncoordinated, or ancestors forbid too early charge by hotheaded warriors wanting to prove themselves could easily have resulted in total disaster for the campaign. His Imperial and Royal Majesty was unwilling to take that risk, and it was a legitimate and wise decision with the information available at the time.

The lesson that can be drawn from this is that once the Dark King inevitably launches another attack to dominate the free peoples of the north, the leaders of the Empire need to have a better understanding of the capabilities of their allies, whether the Yaks or any other peoples willing to fight for the cause of freedom. To this end, I propose inviting Yaks to the traditional knightly tourneys still fought in parts of the Empire and send young soldiers to participate in the Yaks own ritual tests of strengths and skill. In addition, it is necessary to impress on the Yaks the need for joint training operations both between their own clans and between Yaks and Griffons should they intend to assist us in facing the Shadow King once again.

[…]

Joining the Omake Train. But i kinda ran out of steam, so this is somewhat unpolished and will remain as such. It is only a first draft after all. Waiting for the Neighponnese to be introduced so i can write a proper Negaverse update. Bitches love Negaverses.

 

[Pittauro]

What if WE were King Sombra?
​

Turn 1​

You're King Sombra, last of the Umbrums (after you killed them all) and future ruler of everything under the sun and moon. Everything is fine in the world for you.

Taking advantage of the Grand Crystal Fair celebrating the fall of Discord you swiftly killed Princess Amore, destroyed those guards stupid enough to try to stop you instead of submitting to your will, and enslaved the rest. Nobody in the empire remains that can challenge you!

Now it's time to turn your gaze to the rest of the world.

Martial: Well, those slaves won't conquer the world for you by themselves. They need guidance, direction, purpose. Luckily you can offer them that. (One action per turn)

-[]Give them some weapons: You have successfully enslaved nearly everypony in the empire (and killed a fair number of them in the process), but for all you have in bodies you actually lack in equipment. Unarmed slaves make poor soldiers. Start equipping them. Cost: 800. Time: two years. Reward: 10.000 slaves fully armed and fed, 30.000 poorly armed and unfed (they make good meatshields though)

-[] Make them better: If you take the time you could tweak the mind control spell a bit, just enough to give your slaves the barest amount of initiative and improvisation while still being fully subjected to your will. How hard could it possibly be? Cost: 100. Time: One Year. Reward: your troops are more effective, decrease malus when taken by surprise. Failure: "???" Chance of Success: 40%

-[] I have the people, nature is next: You might have full control of the ponies, but monsters and animals still roam free outside your shielded city. Beasts they might be, but you won't allow anything to escape your will. They'll make themselves usefull or die like the rest. Worst case, they can feed your soldiers. Cost: 300. Time: one year. Reward: kill and/or capture those beasts that roam across your land without your permission. Chance of success: 80%

Diplomacy. AHAHAHAHA. Next! (0 action per turn)

Stewardship: If you want anything done, have it done by someone else! (2 actions per turn)

-[] Breeding pens: You find yourself with a lot of unproductive female slaves. Luckily you know how to make them usefull. Cost: 100. Time: one year. Reward: You get a source of new slaves for when the current ones start to disappoint you. Or die. Not much of a difference between the two, really.

-[] Put them to work: farming edition: While you don't need to worry much about taste, quality or variety, your slaves still require a minimum of food if they are to be productive. Or alive. Cost: 200. Time: two years. Reward: farming income

-[] Put them to work: mining edition: You need metals to equip your soldiers and crystals to power your magic, And you're certainly not going to get them yourself! Cost: 200. Time: two years. Reward: mining income

Learning: If there is a disadvantage in bending everyone's mind to your whims, is that your unwilling followers sadly lack intelligence. At least you don't have to worry about betrayal though. (0 actions per turn)

Intrigue: Nothing can hide from your gaze (1 action per turn)

-[] Scry and cry: Use a mix of magical divination and more mundane patrols to find dissenters and would-be free ponies and offer them a choice: surrender or die. Actually, forget about the choice.
Cost: 0. Time: one year. Reward: search the city and the surrounding land for fugitives and have them join the others. Chance of success: 80%

-[] What hides in the shadows: Your slaves are hardly usefull as spies, too conspicuous. But maybe you could improve them with a bit of Umbrum Essence...you can just imagine it: ponies made of shadows, nightmares that moves through the darkness, working as your eyes and ears... Cost: 5% of Umbrum Essence stores. Time: 1 year. Reward: you can create your own spies. Chance of Success: 30%

Personal: The work of a King is never done. (2 actions per turn)

-[] (No longer) Forbidden studies: You have the entire Crystal Library at your disposal. This includes the restricted sections. Cost: 0. Time: 1 year. Rewards: Discover new spells and rituals. Chance of Success: 70%

-[] A source of Power: The crystal heart is a powerfull artifact. The crystal ponies powered it with happy emotions, but you're sure there must be some other, better ways... Cost: 0. Time: 1 year. Reward: you find a way to convert the suffering of your slaves in magical power for your own use. Chance of Success: 75%.

-[]She. After you killed Amore She escaped. You won't have that. Cost: 0. Time: 1 year. Reward: you find her. Chance of Success: 30%

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ok, this took longer than i thought and came out worse than i wanted.

Even as a fake turn it was pretty hard to come up with options.. I don't think I'll do it again.

To who said he/she was considering making a Sombra Negaverse omake (i forget who was)... sorry, i remembered that only AFTER i had already written a bit more than half of this, and i didn't want to simply delete it.

@Questor

 

[Whumbly]

A Light At The Heart of Darkness​

My name is Radiant Hope, and there is an itch on the edge of my nose I'd really like to scratch. Problem is I can't move my hooves, or any part of myself for that matter. It's a shame, the crystalline floor of the throne room look like it'd be really fun to just slide around on.

But I can't do that, because I am currently a statue. A fairly beautiful statue made of white crystal and now the one thing in the throne room that isn't black or red or very dark purple. I used to be at the tallest tower in the castle looking out over the land, but when Sombra caught the Windigos he had the enthralled guard move me to sit next to his throne.

I don't know if he knows I'm awake in here, but he talks like he does. Perhaps so starved for conversation that he finds better company in a statue than in his silent minions. He talks of monsters slain by his new magics, resistance crushed beneath his steel hooves, the secrets of the Umbrum and of a history before the Mad God, tales of valiant heroes, fair maidens and lands of adventures unimaginable.

It's moments like this I'm reminded of the stallion I fell for, the awkward, bookish outsider who stuck by my side no matter what, even when nopony else would. Even when I found out that he might not be a pony, I still loved him.

I still do.

It's funny in some way, I'm sure the Mad God would find hilarious. That I love the tyrant, the monster, the slaver. That I would know every dark deed, every cruelty, every life snuffed out or made worse by his rule and still find it in my heart to forgive him.

But, I know behind the darkness and the monstrosities, there is something there. He doesn't notice or perhaps chooses not to, but he talks to himself, more often ever since he returned as a spirit, defeated by trinity of species that I can't help be both fascinated by and find extremely strange. He questions and doubts and has loud arguments at things I can't see.

I pray it to be the stallion I once knew fighting against the tyrant. I cling to hope, foolish impossible hope like a keeping fire lit in a snowstorm. That my Sombra will return, cast off the darkness and that we can be together once more.

I feel the explosion that shakes the castle, windows shatter behind the throne, the purple and red light that illuminated the room replaced by a clouded sun with delicate snowflakes drifting onto that wonderful looking floor. I hear Sombra's shouting, it is beyond words, but there is anger and confusion and rage and despair that is so strong that the once silent guard pick up on their king's cries, until the city rings with such noise that I doubt ears could survive it.

I cling to a second hope, formed by his defeat. That if he cannot be redeemed, if the dark magic has twisted him so far that he will not turn back, then let heroes from the northern lands give him the rest he deserves. It will hurt, but I will not let him suffer anymore.

I love him too much for that.

@Questor

 

[Lisain]

Part 2 of ???, another omake for ya @Questor

---

Excerpt from "Comparisons of Mythology and History," by Ferdinand Ironclaw and Dusty Scripts, notes and highlights by an unnamed student, Part 2​

Chapter 6-1: Beginnings of a ruler, The Unification war and Kingslayer Hardbeak

Section A: Before the beginning (Aw, I wanted to hear about hardbeak...)

In the previous section, it was noted that The Emperor, before taking the throne, was, in fact, a merchant.

This, surprisingly, is all we really know about that period in history.

Unlike his reign as Emperor, which was documented by a variety of sources including the Yak clans of the age and the Neighponese (please tell me I don't have to track them down...), the era before his ascent to the throne is shrouded in mystery.

Mostly, this can be attributed the the reign of Discord (See: Chapter 3). With tales of words rearranging themselves, pages turning to yogurt, books becoming strange, worm-like creatures, and libraries transforming into large, city destroying berry based abominations, it is no wonder most would consider burning what they could rather than keep them in hopes the Draconequus would eventually be defeated.

However, Emperor Garrick I did indeed keep a journal, even during Discord's reign. And, as mentioned in the prologue to this chapter, it did survive, even in its current divided state.

So, why is it that his early life is mostly unknown if his journal still exists?

The answer to that question lies in the contents of the pages themselves.

In comparison to what he began writing when he took the position of ruler of Griffonia, his writing before then were... impersonal, to say the least. Rather than write about his day, as he would soon do, he instead used his journal as a transaction log, written in messy, shorthand script organized in a peculiar, yet streamlined and efficient, manner. Peculiar to the point that, upon rediscovery of some of the first few pages of his journal, a small group of code breakers were brought in to decipher it (paranoid much?). Rather than use words, Emperor Garrick instead replaced common terms he would come across, such as city names or travel routes, with symbols, and any time he would use words, they were written in shorthand, with most of the letters missing. Numbers themselves were also replaced with substitutes, such as '0' being replaced by an hourglass shape with an open top.

There are many theories among scholars as to the purpose of this. The simplest and easiest conclusion that many have come to is, again, due to the era of discord. Words, the written word especially, was a dangerous thing, and not in the way the modern philosopher would describe it. Writing the word 'dog' on a piece of paper, for example, could cause any number of effects, such as the paper folding itself into a dog, sudden barking, the word 'dog' leaping off the page and acting as a dog would, a portal to the dog dimension opening and spilling dogs everywhere, and so on and so forth (Yeah discord bad, harmony good, yadda yadda...). Thus, by keeping to his unique form of shorthand, he attempted to mitigate this effect. Also for this reason, it is theorized why he refrained from any mentions of himself and his day to day life.

The second theory in regards to his journal is simply a method to keep the information from reaching the wrong claws. In the era of discord, keeping one's route to transport goods secret was all too common, with those able to find the quickest way between cities in a chaotic land making the most profit. By writing his routes down in code, he could keep the competition from making off with his journal and taking his future earnings for themselves.

And the final theory worth noting in terms of why he wrote this way is simply that this was his preferred way of writing things down. While later entries in his journal are perfectly legible as he seemed to convert to using griffonian script seamlessly after becoming king, on certain pages that scholars have access to, he'd occasionally write little notes to himself in the corner in such a script, or wholesale fall back to using his detached, clinical way of coded writing in times of great stress, such as during the first winter war (See figure 5A and 5B). Whether this was due to habit or if he preferred to do so is a question we cannot answer.

So, in spite of having firsthand accounts from the Emperor himself, scholars have found themselves at a metaphorical brick wall in terms of his early life.

But, in spite of it all, the brick wall is not as impenetrable as it seems.

One particular event, the death and revenge of the first Emperor's parents, has been spoken about and romanticized at length.

Historically, there is not much to note about the event. Two line from the Emperor's journal, a transaction between him and another party and a change in route, is all there is to confirm that such a thing had occurred in terms of first party sources. Yet, in all three mentioned tales, "Garrick & Gabriella," "In Darkness and Discord," and "Griffonia," the act of Garrick slaying his parent's killers is at the very least mentioned, and in "Garrick & Gabriella," a pivotal plot point. (Assigned reading for these. Reminder: get maxy and Sparky notes for help)

Thus, the question must be asked. Did it actually occur?

To the modern historian, the answer to that question is, "probably, yes."

In the ancient era, especially in the chaotic squalor of Discord's reign, codifying and keeping to one's code was immensely important to most societies, to bring structure and order to one's self where there was none. Neighpon took this to it's natural extreme in the form of Bushido. Gryphons, meanwhile, simply took to a personal code of honor adapted from the warriors and laws of the past. For example, a rather common law, adapted from the ancient gryphon law of 'an eye for an eye,' was 'Exchange in equivalency,' to give and take in equal measure in accordance to one's needs. Thus, in the case of the death of one's parents, it would have been natural, and even accepted at the time, to seek retribution as equivalence. Doubly so as Gryphon society, as fractured as it was, held in great disdain those who revelled in the chaos Discord sowed, such as brigands.

As for if the event happened at all, it is a subject of much debate. Some speculate that it was added in "Griffonia" as a metaphorical example of King Garrick defeating the chaos the kingdom was under at the time in a way that readers could empathize with. Many lost loved ones in those times, and hearing of their Emperor standing against it and taking action upon his own wings would have resonated with the populace. As both "In Darkness and Discord" and "Garrick & Gabriella" came after, it could have happened that they both looked toward the epic as source material for their interpretation.

While this theory cannot be proven, if taken as fact, then one can point to the factual nature of "Griffonia" for more evidence. "Griffonia," While a fairly long tale with certain parts embellished here and there, maintains a fairly factual basis. For example, in Act 3, the act detailing the Winter War, it describes the Emperor ordering his Diamond Dog troops to write a memorial on one of the rock walls of Redstone pass. Archaeologists cleared out where they assume the battle had taken place according to the geographic markers spoken of in "Griffonia" and found that, while incredibly faded, said memorial did indeed exist.

Thus, many scholars assume Milo to have personally known the Emperor, had taken part in the battle, or interviewed the Emperor himself for his epic; or perhaps some combination of the three.

Whether it be true that Beakspear and Talon-Sea had learned of it from Milo or not, the fact remains that, historically, it seems that such a situation did occur.

The final question remains then, what did happen?

As there is no historical documentation to be had on the subject, it is here we turn toward mythology for a hint at what may have occurred.

Talon-Sea, in his grand design, had written of an assassination plot devised by the then king of Griffonia, adamant on retaining his power and reveling in his greed. He had disguised his best soldiers as brigands and ordered them to behave as actual raiders would, with the explicit instructions on killing anyone related to the Emperors of old in order to retain power. The leader of this unit would do so dutifully, but soon came to be disgusted by both his king and the actions he was forced to perform, until finally, he came across the last remaining remnants of the old blood, two adults and a child traveling the roads as merchants. He did as he was told, Slaughtering both, but out of guilt left their young son alive, without telling the rest of his group. Later on, this survivor would continue business as a merchant, for the sole purpose of gathering enough funds to hire a mercenary group strong enough to take on his tormentors. (Oh thank god a summary! Wooo!)

Once old enough, he would hire a mercenary group lead by a female gryphon on full armor, who he would ask to train him in the act of swordsmanship for the purpose of personally slaying the one who had left him alive. This gryphon would, after much prodding, teach him the basics, and gradually come to admire his tenacity, despite his physical weakness. At this point in time, the king's men had continued their outlaw ways, running amok in the countryside with the leader gradually spiraling into depression. When Garrick and his hired men face off, the leader is at the point of joining the afterlife, but does as his duty commands him and fights Garrick, albeit with minimal strength.

Garrick, in a hard fought battle, defeats him, but spares the life of the leader, seeing that he is a broken griffon, and living as he was was a better punishment than dying to his blade. The leader asks how can he live with what he has done, and Garrick responds by saying there is nothing he can do to make amends, but if he continues to live, he can at least find a way to make the life of someone else better. The leader, taking his words to heart, returns to the king and enacts a plan with some of the other nobles to dispose of him.

In this particular rendition, while the names are never revealed, it is heavily implied in later dialogue and asides that the female gryphon is his future wife, Gabriella, while the Brigand leader is more of an unknown. Some passages hint at the leader to be Hardbeak, the legendary war hero. Others have speculated the leader to be Gustav Kingfeather, the king's royal aid at the time.

Beakspear's rendition is not quite so coincidental, although much more important to the overall story, as it is a tale of the Emperor and Empress. Similar to Talon-Sea's, he marks the mercenaries Garrick hires as the one his future wife belonged to, although, unlike Talon-Sea, she is merely a member of the troupe that grew somewhat curious at the gryphon that paid for their service, rather than the leader. On their journey to find who he desires to kill, they converse, talk, exchange dreams, trade stories, all while Garrick never learns her name nor her face. By the time the bandits are found, they have established a proper rapport with each other, leading to Gabriella gaining a new respect for Garrick upon taking a blade himself a running it through one of the bandits in order to protect Gabriella. While it is mentioned that the future queen had known of the hidden member and was hoping to catch him off guard with a suprise manuever, it is here where she begins to understand Garrick in the context of the story, one who will protect those he cares about while unafraid to get his claws dirty.

Milo's version of events is comparably shorter than Beakspear's or Talon-Sea's. In his version, there is no coincidental plot to murder the last of the old line, nor did he hire his wife's group. It simply tells of Garrick's skill in numbers and a tell at his future battlefield prowess, tracking the brigands based on merchant reports he'd obtained through information dealers in the cities and creating a map of their movements through the major roads, before finding their area of operations. There, he tightened the net smaller and smaller until he found their hideout and came up with a shrewd plan to quickly and efficiently remove the Gryphons inside; By studying the terrain and locating the 'back door' to the cave they were using, he piled lumber on one end of the cave and lit it on fire, filling the inside with smoke. Then, when the brigands attempted to run through the back, they would find themselves on the receiving end of his hired blades. A ruthless revenge.

As for where the truth lies in these renditions, again, it cannot be said which of these holds the truest interpretation. The common denominators between the three, the hiring of a mercenary band to avenge his parents, is plain to see, but whether any of the extra information is true can be argued.

In terms of probabilities, it is unlikely he hired his wife's mercenary group for his scheme (aww, I kinda like that bit...). While historically, the timing may match up, documents indicate his wife was among a band of monster slayers hired by city-states, rather than a mercenary band who would take such a job for coin. It could be done, yes, but the likeliness is very small, and it was only after his reign that the idea of his wife being among the group he hired was brought to light. So, while not impossible, it is improbable.

On the even more unlikely side is the identity of the brigands in Talon-Sea's tale. While the previous kings reign is not well documented, sources suggest he was an 'adequate' king, playing the roll of one who desired stability over advancement or personal gain (why are all the cool bits the fake parts?!). Such was his desire for stability that it is noted he allowed the nobles to do as they wished, up to a point, resulting in nobles keeping some of their collected taxes rather than sending it to the king. Thus, attempting to use tactics such as sending his own army out and having them pose as brigands is not only highly unlikely, but against his style of rule, unwilling to rock the boat in any way.

As for the plan used by Garrick in "Griffonia," it is much more likely than the other two, especially in the act of tracking down the bandits corroborating in merchant records kept by the city states at the time, but the plan he implemented to take them out is more questionable as to whether it did occur or not. But, if he did so or not we will never know, unless future evidence comes to light.

And thus there ends the current speculation on the early life of the king. Perhaps one day scholars will manage to obtain more concrete information, such as more pages of his journal, but as of now, that is all that can be discerned.

Thankfully, his days as a king, and eventually Emperor, are much easier to get a proper grasp on.

Section B: Watch the Throne

---

And to be continued for another time. Hopefully everything here is alright...

 

[ChaosRuneSmith]

The next generation
@Questor


Konrad hardbeak had been a knight for a long time. Enough that he would consider it his entire life. During that time he had known many customs and quirks that military life had. The habits and utilities of him and his men were sometimes odd to the civilians he protected just as they sometimes had been strange to him.

For example, how could you judge the quality of a helmet without preparing soup in it? How did the average griffin not know how useful a hatchet was? Or even how they could believe that their "raiper" was worth the steel used to forge it?

The tight living quarters, the crude humor and the reflex to lay down and sleep as soon as you didn't have anything you had to do.

All those experiences helped him understand... A bit of what he was seeing this crisp dawn in the training yard.

"Are you ready Griffs?"

"Aye aye Sergeant!"

"I can't hear you!"

"Aye aye Sergeant!"

"Ooooooooooooooooooh!"

"Who lives in a castle surrounded by trees?"

"Knight Lord Hard Beak!"

"Mighty and golden and vicious is he?"

"Knight Lord Hard Beak!"

"Who's muscular frame and sword makes you wish?"

"Knight lord Hard Beak!"

"So pick up the pace or I whip you a swish!"

"Knight Lord Hard Beak!"
"Ready?"
"Knight Lord Hard Beak!*

"Knight Lord Hard Beak!"

"Knight Lord Hard Beak!"

"Knight Lord Hard Beak!"

"You make my weep for our order you shameful sacks of pillow stuffing. You think to protect the Empire with such lack of conviction? One more time you chicks! With FEELING this time! ARE YOU READY GRIFFS?"

"AYE AYE SERGEANT!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"AYE AYE SERGEANT!!!"

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!"

"Captain, I can't quite find the words of how I feel about this. please explain what I'm hearing." Konrad turned to the Griffin next to him.

"There was a bard at the local tavern where most of the recruits go on leave." Inner circle knight Gabriel whitewing explained. "Apparently they sang the song long into the night. A few officers later joined in."

"And they found the rythm fitting for marching and running." Konrad finished with a groan.

"Yes, grandmaster."

Konrad wished Gabriel wouldn't be so formal sometimes. But perhaps it was to draw some irratiation from his friend, the knight sergeant currently leading the empire's roughest choir.

"Do you know who the bard was?" He asked.

"No, they had left before we could... Get in touch with him." He said couciously.

He heaved a sigh. "Might be for the best. Wouldn't know if I'd shake his claw or wring his neck. Mostly curiosity."

"do you want me to stop them, grandmaster?"

"First rule of command, Gabriel. Don't give an order they won't follow. Only way to make them do it less would be to find a better song. And this one is quite catchy."

"They would follow any order you gave them grandmaster. But for what it's worth, i agree."

The... Song aside, it was a very pleasing sight for another reason. As David Cools shouted out the song, his most promising squires were strategically placed out with the others.

Avitus, Thaddeus, Tarkus and Aramus all showed promise to be great knights, all exceptional in their own fields, with Amarus as the outliner. Excelling in strategy and tactics, a talent for command and nothing short of a master with his large hammer.

The new generation showed promise.

_____________________________

Inspiration note:

Oh dear God I actually managed to find the inspiration! Suck it, muse!

1. Did you know that the Russian military actually uses the "Spongebob SquarePants" intro as a marching song? Well it's true. And that is the tune of the song.

2. Dawn of War 2 is a good game. I recently replayed it. It is a Warhammer 40k game. Go look it Up if you don't know what that is. Have fun.

David cools comes from Davian Thule also known as Davian Cool, the most badass dude ever.

Avitus, Tarkus and Thaddeus are all heroes from the game. Specialized in heavy weapons, tanking and jumping on people with jetpacks and chainsaw swords respectively.

Aramus is also from the DoW2 game. In the novels that is the name of the force commander which is the nameless MC.