Well the thing my friend here came up with.
At the exact time I did.
-_-
I will start in few hours, likely finish today, if time allows.
Who Needs Harmony?: An MLP Empire Quest
- Thread starter Questor
- Start date
At the exact time I did.
-_-
- Location
- Maryland
Sounds great, write away! I guarantee you a bonus of some kind at its completion.
An interesting empire quest.
Going by the country names I wonder if we need to help the Arcturian Order deal with the Dread League.
Missed the vote but I approve of Battle Queen.
Marriage should always be viewed more as an interview than as a political pry-bar. The egg-head might be cute and the party girl might be fun but neither sound like they would make a good queen.
Going by the country names I wonder if we need to help the Arcturian Order deal with the Dread League.
Missed the vote but I approve of Battle Queen.
Marriage should always be viewed more as an interview than as a political pry-bar. The egg-head might be cute and the party girl might be fun but neither sound like they would make a good queen.
Omake: You!? (Canon)
Omake: "YOU?!"
Year DISCORD SEASON Balderdash:
Garrick couldn't stop himself from sighing for an umpteenth time as he waited for the caravan guards he had contracted to actually arrive.
His day had begun like normal: waking up in a in, finalizing the packaging of his caravan.
Then, the wait for the hired muscle.
Problem: The hired muscle were late.
By two hours.
'Finally', Garrick scowled as a motley crew of mercenaries he had contracted approached his caravan. 'Maybe we can finally get... going...'
Twitch
Twitch twitch
"Hallo, booooss. When's we leaving?"
-----
At the root of at mountain, within a nearby mercenary camp, a griffon hen sharpening their claw squawked in alarm as a godly echo shattered the calm.
"WHY ARE YOU DRUNK?! - ARE YOU DRUNK?! - YOU DRUNK?! - DRUNK?!"
She blinked, shrugged and got back to the task at hand.
You newer knew when you needed to be ready for a scuffle, after all.
-----
Approximately half an hour later, Garrick was having a heart-to-heart with a local.
"Which is the nearest group of reliable caravan guards available on a short notice, to replace your previous recommendations?" The irate merchant hissed through their peak at the innkeeper, who scowled back with only a slight quiver in their form.
If they were some other species, the owner of the establishment would be shaking in their boots - but both were griffons. He would do his best to hide his terror when looking at he bloodshot, crazed eyes of Garrick "I will make a necklace out of your plucked feathers" Golden-feather.
"Look, I already returned the full amount you gave me for the contract -"
"THAT..!"
Garrick began, but then seemed to reconsider.
Taking a deep breath, he calmly continued.
"That doesn't help me get my goods through Nonsense Country."
The mention caused both griffons to shudder.
While Discord had indeed brought things into total pandemonium, there were still areas that were either less or more dangerous to be in. If everything was equally dangerous after all, it would be all the same, the horror.
What this meant specifically was that certain areas were more dangerous to go through than others.
Of course, it wasn't chaotic enough to have different zones: they had to move all over the world on their own whims while they were at it.
A clear path with only a slight risk of migratory drop-bears could next morning be replaced by zones filled with homicidal, self-propelling lawn ornaments with soap bows. Or an area where the laws physics were only minimally affected could instead have such beautiful characteristics as inverted gravity, causing all of your belongings to rocket to the stratosphere while you desperately tried to untangle yourself from all that you owed.
Nonsense Country was one of such zones: a mobile sector which had one simple rule: never say anything that makes sense.
Whatever you did, you had to talk nonsense no matter the cost. Better yet would be to say nothing - a silent trip was the best outcome for any caravan, but Nonsense Country demanded it.
All were forced to ignore common sense there, in some cases even required to play stupid word games with discordian creatures.
The more sense you made, worse the retaliation.
This meant that all participants inside the zone had to be as professional as possible, able to react, prepare, defend and move forward with enough discipline to handle any of the normal challenges... without the ability to communicate.
Something a bunch of drunken or hangover guards could never achieve.
Unfortunately, Nonsense Country had just a few days ago relocated to block the only safe-ish path to his destination.
"I have an agreement to deliver these goods to Featherstone. I needed the guards hours ago - if I fail to deliver the goods on time, my reputation will suffer!
And believe me - if my reputation suffers, I will make certain every merchant I've ever worked with will know who to thank for it."
The innkeeper mulled at this, their mind going through a list of available mercenary companies and reliable freelancers.
The list was short.
"I know of one mercenary company that is currently available. Don't know much about them, came here from one of the merchant republics that-a-way," vague hand-waving ensued ,"about a week ago, give or take a day."
"Are they reliable?" Garrick slowly tok'd his table with his claw-tips.
"Honestly, they seem rough and tumble to me, like the kind that goes looking for good scraps instead of looking to minimize the risk of getting into them." The griffon sneered. "I wouldn't recommend them."
'The greatest endorsement ever given.'
Garrick gave a suffering smile to hide his thoughts.
"It seems I'm out of options."
-----
"You want to leave immediately?" Gabriella - or Greda as she was known by her current company - was baffled as the merchant she and her small detachment were currently working under immediately ushered them to make ready. "We need time to gather supplies -"
A sack of travel rations was thrown out of the trade cart.
"... other than food or drink. We need acquisition arrows from the rest of -"
Second sack.
"... bandages and other healing supplies?"
Third sack.
Greda stared at the merchant, who stared back and preempted her next question.
"Yes, the cost of these items was included in the contract, as was agreed with your captain."
The hen threw her claws to the heavens, huffed and turned around.
Garrick chuckled. That mercenary had been a funny diversion.
-----
The travel itself almost ended up being extremely anticlimactic, with almost nothing happening during the trap.
However, it all went to shit when one mercenary accidentally clonked another with their unslung helmet.
*Clang*
"OW , be more careful!
Garrick and Greda were both within hearing range.
Both cursed loudly.
Multiple things happened at once:
The ground began to rumble.
Garrick gave a loud squawk as Greda practically rammed herself to his side, throwing both away from the rest of the caravan.
The mercenary that had accidentally hit his friend, turned and said, "sorry about tha-"
The ground burst upward, throwing griffons and merchandise all around as a demented mix of skunk, elephant and dictionary book hopped out and dropped right on top of the two mercenaries that had brought its ire, turning them into paper mannikins and stuffing them into its thesaurus mouth to the fanfare of loud paper shuffling noises.
'Oh, lucky: the mellowed out response. It should return to the ground after it has had it's fill.'
Garrick's thoughts were sidelined as the mercenary griffoness stood up, pulled her sword out and charged.
If this was a normal situation, maybe there would be a great story to describe the resulting battle as the griffoness threw herself at the monster - but this was a discordian creature with skunk in it.
As the caravan limped out of Nonsense Country, Greda turned toward the rest of the caravan who were currently standing very far away.
Also, upwind.
"You will tell no one of this."
Garrick had to cough to hide his smile.
-----
Present day:
To meet the hen that could end up becoming your lifelong partner was in a way very stressful.
Garrick wasn't certain if it was less or more so than most of his trips through Discordian wastes.
'At least the zones popped out for good when Discord disappeared.'
When the door opened, Garrick braced himself and...
"Wait -/What -"
"YOU?!/YOU?!"
Year DISCORD SEASON Balderdash:
Garrick couldn't stop himself from sighing for an umpteenth time as he waited for the caravan guards he had contracted to actually arrive.
His day had begun like normal: waking up in a in, finalizing the packaging of his caravan.
Then, the wait for the hired muscle.
Problem: The hired muscle were late.
By two hours.
'Finally', Garrick scowled as a motley crew of mercenaries he had contracted approached his caravan. 'Maybe we can finally get... going...'
Twitch
Twitch twitch
"Hallo, booooss. When's we leaving?"
-----
At the root of at mountain, within a nearby mercenary camp, a griffon hen sharpening their claw squawked in alarm as a godly echo shattered the calm.
"WHY ARE YOU DRUNK?! - ARE YOU DRUNK?! - YOU DRUNK?! - DRUNK?!"
She blinked, shrugged and got back to the task at hand.
You newer knew when you needed to be ready for a scuffle, after all.
-----
Approximately half an hour later, Garrick was having a heart-to-heart with a local.
"Which is the nearest group of reliable caravan guards available on a short notice, to replace your previous recommendations?" The irate merchant hissed through their peak at the innkeeper, who scowled back with only a slight quiver in their form.
If they were some other species, the owner of the establishment would be shaking in their boots - but both were griffons. He would do his best to hide his terror when looking at he bloodshot, crazed eyes of Garrick "I will make a necklace out of your plucked feathers" Golden-feather.
"Look, I already returned the full amount you gave me for the contract -"
"THAT..!"
Garrick began, but then seemed to reconsider.
Taking a deep breath, he calmly continued.
"That doesn't help me get my goods through Nonsense Country."
The mention caused both griffons to shudder.
While Discord had indeed brought things into total pandemonium, there were still areas that were either less or more dangerous to be in. If everything was equally dangerous after all, it would be all the same, the horror.
What this meant specifically was that certain areas were more dangerous to go through than others.
Of course, it wasn't chaotic enough to have different zones: they had to move all over the world on their own whims while they were at it.
A clear path with only a slight risk of migratory drop-bears could next morning be replaced by zones filled with homicidal, self-propelling lawn ornaments with soap bows. Or an area where the laws physics were only minimally affected could instead have such beautiful characteristics as inverted gravity, causing all of your belongings to rocket to the stratosphere while you desperately tried to untangle yourself from all that you owed.
Nonsense Country was one of such zones: a mobile sector which had one simple rule: never say anything that makes sense.
Whatever you did, you had to talk nonsense no matter the cost. Better yet would be to say nothing - a silent trip was the best outcome for any caravan, but Nonsense Country demanded it.
All were forced to ignore common sense there, in some cases even required to play stupid word games with discordian creatures.
The more sense you made, worse the retaliation.
This meant that all participants inside the zone had to be as professional as possible, able to react, prepare, defend and move forward with enough discipline to handle any of the normal challenges... without the ability to communicate.
Something a bunch of drunken or hangover guards could never achieve.
Unfortunately, Nonsense Country had just a few days ago relocated to block the only safe-ish path to his destination.
"I have an agreement to deliver these goods to Featherstone. I needed the guards hours ago - if I fail to deliver the goods on time, my reputation will suffer!
And believe me - if my reputation suffers, I will make certain every merchant I've ever worked with will know who to thank for it."
The innkeeper mulled at this, their mind going through a list of available mercenary companies and reliable freelancers.
The list was short.
"I know of one mercenary company that is currently available. Don't know much about them, came here from one of the merchant republics that-a-way," vague hand-waving ensued ,"about a week ago, give or take a day."
"Are they reliable?" Garrick slowly tok'd his table with his claw-tips.
"Honestly, they seem rough and tumble to me, like the kind that goes looking for good scraps instead of looking to minimize the risk of getting into them." The griffon sneered. "I wouldn't recommend them."
'The greatest endorsement ever given.'
Garrick gave a suffering smile to hide his thoughts.
"It seems I'm out of options."
-----
"You want to leave immediately?" Gabriella - or Greda as she was known by her current company - was baffled as the merchant she and her small detachment were currently working under immediately ushered them to make ready. "We need time to gather supplies -"
A sack of travel rations was thrown out of the trade cart.
"... other than food or drink. We need acquisition arrows from the rest of -"
Second sack.
"... bandages and other healing supplies?"
Third sack.
Greda stared at the merchant, who stared back and preempted her next question.
"Yes, the cost of these items was included in the contract, as was agreed with your captain."
The hen threw her claws to the heavens, huffed and turned around.
Garrick chuckled. That mercenary had been a funny diversion.
-----
The travel itself almost ended up being extremely anticlimactic, with almost nothing happening during the trap.
However, it all went to shit when one mercenary accidentally clonked another with their unslung helmet.
*Clang*
"OW , be more careful!
Garrick and Greda were both within hearing range.
Both cursed loudly.
Multiple things happened at once:
The ground began to rumble.
Garrick gave a loud squawk as Greda practically rammed herself to his side, throwing both away from the rest of the caravan.
The mercenary that had accidentally hit his friend, turned and said, "sorry about tha-"
The ground burst upward, throwing griffons and merchandise all around as a demented mix of skunk, elephant and dictionary book hopped out and dropped right on top of the two mercenaries that had brought its ire, turning them into paper mannikins and stuffing them into its thesaurus mouth to the fanfare of loud paper shuffling noises.
'Oh, lucky: the mellowed out response. It should return to the ground after it has had it's fill.'
Garrick's thoughts were sidelined as the mercenary griffoness stood up, pulled her sword out and charged.
If this was a normal situation, maybe there would be a great story to describe the resulting battle as the griffoness threw herself at the monster - but this was a discordian creature with skunk in it.
As the caravan limped out of Nonsense Country, Greda turned toward the rest of the caravan who were currently standing very far away.
Also, upwind.
"You will tell no one of this."
Garrick had to cough to hide his smile.
-----
Present day:
To meet the hen that could end up becoming your lifelong partner was in a way very stressful.
Garrick wasn't certain if it was less or more so than most of his trips through Discordian wastes.
'At least the zones popped out for good when Discord disappeared.'
When the door opened, Garrick braced himself and...
"Wait -/What -"
"YOU?!/YOU?!"
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- Location
- Back in Cali
They have half of our numbers. We don't know how big Aquilea's military is.
I wonder if I created too much head-canon when I made up the Zones. Is it canon-compliant enough?
EDIT: fixed some grammatical mistakes and a cut sentence.
EDIT: fixed some grammatical mistakes and a cut sentence.
Last edited:
- Location
- Maryland
Great work! +10 to any roll of your choice on any upcoming turn.
- Location
- Somewhere
The zones are good and logical. Push Chaos far in one direction, and there will be Order. Discworld's Ank-Morpork for example, the city has outdated laws and traditional guidelines that would be chaos for an outsider to command in one day, but a citizen can do it on command (in theory). Makes sense that while places were Chaos there was an Order to the chaos that prevented the universe from being only spinning atoms of energy, for a time.
The alternative to the zones is Discord warped a whole planet to look like Wonderland from Alice's story, which is too normal chaos logic for ol' Discord Chaos when Discord ruled. Locations that move, have restrictions, and don't translate into insta-death by transformation for a whole continent is in line with Discord (the guy is soft, and chained, for a creature related to the idea of Chaos)
Match: Made
- Location
- Maryland
You'd mulled over the decision for a few days. This wasn't a choice to be made lightly. It wasn't just a wife you were looking for, you were seeking a Queen, someone you could trust to rule over your Kingdom and its people, someone that could lead and inspire. Honestly, none of the candidates available were "Ideal". But then, you were hardly the ideal candidate for king before your coronation. In the end you'd decided to accept the offer from Federico Montefeathertro, the Count of Urbirdo, for his daughter's claw in marriage. It was the practical decision. The former-mercenary is highly skilled, particularly in the realm of combat, an area you don't have much experience in, and possesses connections with Griffons across the Feathersian League.
Still, even as you sit nervously in your throne, awaiting the arrival of your (hopefully) soon-to-be bride, you can't help but wonder if you've made the right choice. Finally, the doors to the great hall open and the Sergeant-at-arms announces the arrival of Federico and Gabriella Montefeathertro of Urbirdo. You stand to greet your future Father-in-Law.
He's more…flamboyant than you'd expected. And yet, despite his somewhat atypical manner of dress he still manages to be intimidating. Perhaps it's his missing eye and facial scar. Perhaps it's the utterly massive longsword strapped to his side. Either way, you're sure that if you weren't a King you'd soon be on the receiving end of a truly epic "overprotective father" speech. Honestly, you think he'd be wasting his breath. Even if you hadn't heard the stories about the young hen behind him you'd be able to tell just by looking at her that this was not some demure, frail lady of the court.
Like her father she is also wearing armor, though hers is far more conventional in its appearance. You can tell it's not just for show either, multiple faded scratches and the telltale signs of mended dents are visible across it, even though it's clearly been polished in preparation for this moment. As for the Griffon that wears the armor…well, there's no way to sugarcoat it, she looks like she could bench press a cave troll. Her physique can only be described as "sculpted", her muscles visibly flexing and shifting with every fluid movement. Still, even under all that muscle, her form is unmistakably feminine. You're not sure if you'd call her beautiful in the traditional sense, but she is undeniably attractive. And judging by the appraising looks she gives you and your carefully maintained appearance as you speak to her father, she thinks similarly of you.
At last, pleasantries and protocols finally dispensed with, you stand before your betrothed. She is the first to speak.
"So…you sure you want to marry me? Cause I gotta warn you, I'm no prim and proper noble lady."
You nod.
"I am well aware of your past, as well as your warrior's spirit. Rest assured, I do not desire some empty-headed trophy wife to parade round in front of the nobility. My people deserve a Queen worthy of the title, one that can command soldiers in battle as readily as she commands attention at court. I want a wife with spine, smarts and spirit, not just beauty."
You soften your tone.
"Though I must say you possess the latter in spades."
She actually blushes, grinning cockily.
"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself…Your Highness."
You smile.
"Please, call me Garrick."
Gain: Gabriella Montefeathertro, Daughter of Feathersian Prince Federico Montefeathertro, and an Experienced Former Mercenary. And now, your wife.
Still, even as you sit nervously in your throne, awaiting the arrival of your (hopefully) soon-to-be bride, you can't help but wonder if you've made the right choice. Finally, the doors to the great hall open and the Sergeant-at-arms announces the arrival of Federico and Gabriella Montefeathertro of Urbirdo. You stand to greet your future Father-in-Law.
He's more…flamboyant than you'd expected. And yet, despite his somewhat atypical manner of dress he still manages to be intimidating. Perhaps it's his missing eye and facial scar. Perhaps it's the utterly massive longsword strapped to his side. Either way, you're sure that if you weren't a King you'd soon be on the receiving end of a truly epic "overprotective father" speech. Honestly, you think he'd be wasting his breath. Even if you hadn't heard the stories about the young hen behind him you'd be able to tell just by looking at her that this was not some demure, frail lady of the court.
Like her father she is also wearing armor, though hers is far more conventional in its appearance. You can tell it's not just for show either, multiple faded scratches and the telltale signs of mended dents are visible across it, even though it's clearly been polished in preparation for this moment. As for the Griffon that wears the armor…well, there's no way to sugarcoat it, she looks like she could bench press a cave troll. Her physique can only be described as "sculpted", her muscles visibly flexing and shifting with every fluid movement. Still, even under all that muscle, her form is unmistakably feminine. You're not sure if you'd call her beautiful in the traditional sense, but she is undeniably attractive. And judging by the appraising looks she gives you and your carefully maintained appearance as you speak to her father, she thinks similarly of you.
At last, pleasantries and protocols finally dispensed with, you stand before your betrothed. She is the first to speak.
"So…you sure you want to marry me? Cause I gotta warn you, I'm no prim and proper noble lady."
You nod.
"I am well aware of your past, as well as your warrior's spirit. Rest assured, I do not desire some empty-headed trophy wife to parade round in front of the nobility. My people deserve a Queen worthy of the title, one that can command soldiers in battle as readily as she commands attention at court. I want a wife with spine, smarts and spirit, not just beauty."
You soften your tone.
"Though I must say you possess the latter in spades."
She actually blushes, grinning cockily.
"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself…Your Highness."
You smile.
"Please, call me Garrick."
Gain: Gabriella Montefeathertro, Daughter of Feathersian Prince Federico Montefeathertro, and an Experienced Former Mercenary. And now, your wife.
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It read pretty well to me.
- Location
- Pallet town, Kanto
I always seem to think that the griffons would be like germans.
ExNihilo
SPACE!
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
We're in neo-france (West Francia)area, I think, so much as it corresponds. Perhaps in the original timeline, the neo-German (East Francia) half dominated.
- Location
- Maryland
That was my thought as well. Either them or the French.
- Location
- Space
True, this situation reminds me of Germany before unification.
I would've liked some dialogue with the father-in-law, honestly. Get some idea of his character and all that.
- Location
- Back in Cali
We are to the east. Our rival is on the west.
- Location
- MN
so what you're saying is that they'll likely surrender when things get tough, or a half pint buzzard will emerge and try to conquer all of the known world.
- Location
- Back in Cali
This is old ancient France. This is before they got drunk on wine and cheese. So conquer everything time when they were the mainland premier power.
Omake: When Heron met Swift-y (Semi-Canon)
Questor Well I had hoped to get this out there before the obligatory first meeting chapter but I just wasn't fast enough. Still, I am not letting all this go to waste so here it is.
And now she just felt silly, 'Oh no, poor Gabriella. Your betrothed is only conventionally attractive and isn't some heavily muscled dreamboat with legs like tree trunks. How will you ever survive?' She thought to herself sarcastically. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she very nearly missed his formal introduction, and hurriedly gave her own hoping that she hadn't made too much of an ass out of herself. There was a brief pause, oh ancestors what had she done wrong, had protocol changed while she'd been with the company? She'd never hear the end of this from her father, and other noble ladies would be ready with snippy little comments designed to be just tasteful enough that she wouldn't be able to punch them right in their smug little beaks. "So, would you like a tour of the castle? I wouldn't mind learning how to make it more defensible." She blinked rapidly for a moment, was he mocking her? She searched his tone for any sort of sarcasm, some hint that he was secretly making fun of her, like when the other noble daughters would invite her to watch a tournament and talk about how "manly" the participants were while knowing full well she intended to fight.
She was surprised when she couldn't find a single trace of anything but genuine interest in his voice, her eyes narrowed. She wasn't sure if he was being sincere, he might have been better at hiding his disdain than the others, but if he wasn't well, it would be nice to show off, just a little. Cracking her neck she took a good look around the room, pretending to only now have started really taking it in when in reality she'd been sizing the place up since she flew in, and with a smirk she began. "Well the first thing that comes to mind is the fact that I am seeing little in the way of spots where boiling oil or other similarly punishing substances can be poured from at strategic chock points, now I see that you've done that with the double gate at the front, they breach the first one and while they work to get through the second you scald them, but you'll want them spread throughout the castle. Second your guards here, I know mobility is important, but when you're in an enclosed space like this protection is more important so those wings need to go armored, a heavy blow from something like a hammer will still break the wing but it'll provide much needed protection from knives and if their lucky crossbow bolts, speaking of which." And so she continued for well over two hours, at times nearly forgetting that anyone else was there as she described in sometimes graphic detail, just how this castle was weak and how she would take it, going through numerous possibilities, collapsing part of the wall by tunneling underneath, starving them with a prolonged siege, diverting the river to make the population rely on wells that could be poisoned by infiltrators, catapulting the rotting dead in to spread plague. Anything and everything she could think of was mentioned.
Garrick stared at the griffon as he approached with his guards, unlike him she had come without an escort, a move that said as much about her confidence in her ability to defend herself, as it did about her desire to get away from the family who he suspected were pushing her into the marriage. She'd flown here a whole week early with a small group, including one very put upon lady in waiting who seemed to be there for the sole purpose of confirming Gabriella's identity and who seemed to want nothing to do with this whole mess or his bride to be from the look of things, and after that the rest or her coterie had gone into the first alehouse they could find. There was an air of confidence about her, like the Griffon he'd met at the party, but it seemed to originate from a different place, the one from the party had been confident in a way that spoke of total control over a situation, of knowing how everything worked and how to control it. Gabriella on the other talon projected an air that spoke of long hours fighting and spilling blood, of a complete assurance that if she wanted to she would be able to kill everyone in the room. Garrick wasn't quite sure what it said about him that the same part of him that had found the party goer's confidence so fascinating felt the same way about Gabriella's and, not wanting to think about it any more than he already had, forced that part of him to the back of his mind. There was something else about her though, something in the curve of her beak and the way her feathers were groomed, it was so damn familiar, but he just could not place it.
When the guard on his left began to speak, announcing who he was he forced himself to hold back a groan. He thought he'd made it clear that he didn't want them to do the stupidly long formal introduction, a short one worked just as well and didn't waste everyone's time, or maybe they could just count on people to realize he was the king, he wore a crown, and his face was on the coinage for crying out loud. He was surprised when she seemed to take it in stride, stoically listening to his guard and when his guard had finished she proceeded to give her own introduction, not nearly as long as his own but still including many impressive titles of her own. He was stunned for a minute by this, he hadn't actually expected proper formalities from this hen, and now he felt like an ass for assuming he would be marrying some sort of barbarian. He desperately wracked his brain for something to say that would go over well and after a moment he found it, "so would you like a tour of the castle? I wouldn't mind learning how to make it more defensible." Perfect, he would be able to engage her in a subject she knew well while using his own knowledge of- wait why was she cracking her neck like that, and just like that she took on an almost Archimedes like aspect as she started talking about how she would go about systematically killing everyone in the castle.
After about five minutes staring at Gabriella in shock Garrick managed to compose himself enough to send one of his guards out to get a quill and parchment, some of her suggestions weren't possible at this time due to resources being utilized for other projects but others like the altered armor for guards serving inside the castle could be implemented quickly and he wanted to take note of as many as possible. About two hours later as he walked behind her scribing everything she said he wondered how he had become the one getting a tour, part of him wanted to take back control of the tour, it was his castle after all, a larger part of him however was to enraptured with herlegs as she walked detailed explanation of how to improve his castle. Walking outside the castle she made note of everything from the size of the individual stone blocks to the type of mortar used to seal them together before suddenly falling silent. Garrick strode forward to get a look at what had made Gabriella fall silent and say that she was looking at the range where further testing was being done of the bolt throwers, looking at her face he saw that her eyes were wide. "Garrick, what are those?"
Gabriella was having the most fun she'd had since she'd fought that Diamond Dog tribal chief in single combat a year ago, having spent so much time of the road and in encampments she'd forgotten how much fun assessing a fortress' defenses could be. Her mother had always had the guards take her back to whatever lesson she'd skipped or family event she'd ducked out of when she'd tried doing this at home. She had just finished analyzing the basic soil structure and was about to start listing off tips for maintaining the foundation of the wall during the rainy seasons to come when she say them, the most beautiful weapons she was sure hade ever existed. They resembled massive crossbows in shape but she could tell they were so much more, they sent bolts as thick as a support beams singing through the air before punching clean through a tree in a crescendo of wonderful destruction. These were siege weapons, artillery through and through, though a different sort than a catapult of trebuchet, those were war hammers, inaccurate but truly devastating when they hit, this miracle of engineering was a dagger, a knife to be driven right into the enemy's heart.
"Garrick, what are those?" He stood next to her, when had he moved there? No not important, focus on what he was saying. "These are our new Bolt Throwers, fresh from the workshops of our greatest minds. Over the next few months these will spread all over the kingdom, placed on fortresses, mobile artillery platforms to use against dangerous and difficult to put down foes like dragons, mounted to ships, providing us with accuracy far greater than any catapult, I've even heard talk of using them against gr-" She cut him off, her excitement carrying her away as she realized what he was about to say, "ground forces, they wouldn't be good against targeting anything specific, but they'd be perfect for breaking apart charging forces, making forces vulnerable for counter attacks, true it wouldn't be useful against griffon forces but if we came up against forces like the Earth Ponies, if Discord didn't turn them all to granite or something for a laugh, they could make all the difference."
She looked at him with new eyes, he wasn't an Adonis yes, but he was preparing for potential future foes, from the way he talked about the places the Bolt Throwers and the few comments he'd made during the castle inspection he was good with logistics, with just a little molding from her he had the makings of a good general. Plus he'd actually paid attention to what she had said, he'd actually been interested, had any other noble ever shown this sort of interest? No, no they had not. Well, if she was honest she hadn't expected this but it seemed that this was how it was going down. Turning to Garrick's guard she spoke in her best commanding officer voice to get him to obey. "Tell me where the nearest magistrate's office is." "On the corner of Feather Quill and Shatterstone ma'am!" Good, she'd spotted those streets on the way here, maybe five minutes away if she got him moving at a good marching pace, grabbing Garrick she said. "Come on then let's go get married now." "Wait what!"
When Heron met Swift-y (Yes I did choose to go with a terrible bird pun)
Gabriella looked her husband to be over as if inspecting the form of a recruit as they fought in the training pit, to be honest she was a little disappointed. True there was nothing wrong with him, he carried himself well, his walk confident and his stride even, he carried a blade at his side of fine craftsmanship and while it was a bit ostentatious Gabriella could see that he had not sacrificed the weapons utility for the sake of aesthetics. That alone elevated him far above most nobility, and the fact that he wasn't wearing some ridiculous get up put him firmly in the top 1% of nobility, but he wasn't a warrior, he looked like he could fight if need be but there wasn't that tension to him that said he was ready to spring into action at a moments notice, he wasn't unconsciously sizing up everyone around him, seeing how to best take everyone in the room if need be. Finally, and she felt a bit silly for this even being a concern, he wasn't…. well he wasn't ripped, sure he was fitter than most, but he wasn't the Adonis she'd always fantasized about running off with. There was something familiar about him though, like she'd met him before but that was ridiculous, she'd never met any member of the royal family or their branch houses, but something wouldn't stop tickling at her brain.
And now she just felt silly, 'Oh no, poor Gabriella. Your betrothed is only conventionally attractive and isn't some heavily muscled dreamboat with legs like tree trunks. How will you ever survive?' She thought to herself sarcastically. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she very nearly missed his formal introduction, and hurriedly gave her own hoping that she hadn't made too much of an ass out of herself. There was a brief pause, oh ancestors what had she done wrong, had protocol changed while she'd been with the company? She'd never hear the end of this from her father, and other noble ladies would be ready with snippy little comments designed to be just tasteful enough that she wouldn't be able to punch them right in their smug little beaks. "So, would you like a tour of the castle? I wouldn't mind learning how to make it more defensible." She blinked rapidly for a moment, was he mocking her? She searched his tone for any sort of sarcasm, some hint that he was secretly making fun of her, like when the other noble daughters would invite her to watch a tournament and talk about how "manly" the participants were while knowing full well she intended to fight.
She was surprised when she couldn't find a single trace of anything but genuine interest in his voice, her eyes narrowed. She wasn't sure if he was being sincere, he might have been better at hiding his disdain than the others, but if he wasn't well, it would be nice to show off, just a little. Cracking her neck she took a good look around the room, pretending to only now have started really taking it in when in reality she'd been sizing the place up since she flew in, and with a smirk she began. "Well the first thing that comes to mind is the fact that I am seeing little in the way of spots where boiling oil or other similarly punishing substances can be poured from at strategic chock points, now I see that you've done that with the double gate at the front, they breach the first one and while they work to get through the second you scald them, but you'll want them spread throughout the castle. Second your guards here, I know mobility is important, but when you're in an enclosed space like this protection is more important so those wings need to go armored, a heavy blow from something like a hammer will still break the wing but it'll provide much needed protection from knives and if their lucky crossbow bolts, speaking of which." And so she continued for well over two hours, at times nearly forgetting that anyone else was there as she described in sometimes graphic detail, just how this castle was weak and how she would take it, going through numerous possibilities, collapsing part of the wall by tunneling underneath, starving them with a prolonged siege, diverting the river to make the population rely on wells that could be poisoned by infiltrators, catapulting the rotting dead in to spread plague. Anything and everything she could think of was mentioned.
Garrick stared at the griffon as he approached with his guards, unlike him she had come without an escort, a move that said as much about her confidence in her ability to defend herself, as it did about her desire to get away from the family who he suspected were pushing her into the marriage. She'd flown here a whole week early with a small group, including one very put upon lady in waiting who seemed to be there for the sole purpose of confirming Gabriella's identity and who seemed to want nothing to do with this whole mess or his bride to be from the look of things, and after that the rest or her coterie had gone into the first alehouse they could find. There was an air of confidence about her, like the Griffon he'd met at the party, but it seemed to originate from a different place, the one from the party had been confident in a way that spoke of total control over a situation, of knowing how everything worked and how to control it. Gabriella on the other talon projected an air that spoke of long hours fighting and spilling blood, of a complete assurance that if she wanted to she would be able to kill everyone in the room. Garrick wasn't quite sure what it said about him that the same part of him that had found the party goer's confidence so fascinating felt the same way about Gabriella's and, not wanting to think about it any more than he already had, forced that part of him to the back of his mind. There was something else about her though, something in the curve of her beak and the way her feathers were groomed, it was so damn familiar, but he just could not place it.
When the guard on his left began to speak, announcing who he was he forced himself to hold back a groan. He thought he'd made it clear that he didn't want them to do the stupidly long formal introduction, a short one worked just as well and didn't waste everyone's time, or maybe they could just count on people to realize he was the king, he wore a crown, and his face was on the coinage for crying out loud. He was surprised when she seemed to take it in stride, stoically listening to his guard and when his guard had finished she proceeded to give her own introduction, not nearly as long as his own but still including many impressive titles of her own. He was stunned for a minute by this, he hadn't actually expected proper formalities from this hen, and now he felt like an ass for assuming he would be marrying some sort of barbarian. He desperately wracked his brain for something to say that would go over well and after a moment he found it, "so would you like a tour of the castle? I wouldn't mind learning how to make it more defensible." Perfect, he would be able to engage her in a subject she knew well while using his own knowledge of- wait why was she cracking her neck like that, and just like that she took on an almost Archimedes like aspect as she started talking about how she would go about systematically killing everyone in the castle.
After about five minutes staring at Gabriella in shock Garrick managed to compose himself enough to send one of his guards out to get a quill and parchment, some of her suggestions weren't possible at this time due to resources being utilized for other projects but others like the altered armor for guards serving inside the castle could be implemented quickly and he wanted to take note of as many as possible. About two hours later as he walked behind her scribing everything she said he wondered how he had become the one getting a tour, part of him wanted to take back control of the tour, it was his castle after all, a larger part of him however was to enraptured with her
Gabriella was having the most fun she'd had since she'd fought that Diamond Dog tribal chief in single combat a year ago, having spent so much time of the road and in encampments she'd forgotten how much fun assessing a fortress' defenses could be. Her mother had always had the guards take her back to whatever lesson she'd skipped or family event she'd ducked out of when she'd tried doing this at home. She had just finished analyzing the basic soil structure and was about to start listing off tips for maintaining the foundation of the wall during the rainy seasons to come when she say them, the most beautiful weapons she was sure hade ever existed. They resembled massive crossbows in shape but she could tell they were so much more, they sent bolts as thick as a support beams singing through the air before punching clean through a tree in a crescendo of wonderful destruction. These were siege weapons, artillery through and through, though a different sort than a catapult of trebuchet, those were war hammers, inaccurate but truly devastating when they hit, this miracle of engineering was a dagger, a knife to be driven right into the enemy's heart.
"Garrick, what are those?" He stood next to her, when had he moved there? No not important, focus on what he was saying. "These are our new Bolt Throwers, fresh from the workshops of our greatest minds. Over the next few months these will spread all over the kingdom, placed on fortresses, mobile artillery platforms to use against dangerous and difficult to put down foes like dragons, mounted to ships, providing us with accuracy far greater than any catapult, I've even heard talk of using them against gr-" She cut him off, her excitement carrying her away as she realized what he was about to say, "ground forces, they wouldn't be good against targeting anything specific, but they'd be perfect for breaking apart charging forces, making forces vulnerable for counter attacks, true it wouldn't be useful against griffon forces but if we came up against forces like the Earth Ponies, if Discord didn't turn them all to granite or something for a laugh, they could make all the difference."
She looked at him with new eyes, he wasn't an Adonis yes, but he was preparing for potential future foes, from the way he talked about the places the Bolt Throwers and the few comments he'd made during the castle inspection he was good with logistics, with just a little molding from her he had the makings of a good general. Plus he'd actually paid attention to what she had said, he'd actually been interested, had any other noble ever shown this sort of interest? No, no they had not. Well, if she was honest she hadn't expected this but it seemed that this was how it was going down. Turning to Garrick's guard she spoke in her best commanding officer voice to get him to obey. "Tell me where the nearest magistrate's office is." "On the corner of Feather Quill and Shatterstone ma'am!" Good, she'd spotted those streets on the way here, maybe five minutes away if she got him moving at a good marching pace, grabbing Garrick she said. "Come on then let's go get married now." "Wait what!"
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ExNihilo
SPACE!
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yeah, it's mirrored, though. We, like France, have the better sea access, and a clearer symbol for Germany than the Aquelia I would be hard-pressed to find.
- Location
- Castle Drakenhof
I suppose that also means we have a better agricultural base and larger population to work with, if the metaphor stands true.
ExNihilo
SPACE!
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Or, yaknow, France. France's military was badass through the Middle Ages, it was an industrial power, and without a Britain its colonial presence would have been unmatched.