Two Weeks since Ian left for Talon's End
??? POV
Date: November 3rd, 1000 of Our Heavenly Lord Boreas. (Or November 3rd, 1000 ALB, After Luna’s Banishment for you pony lovers)

It has been two weeks since human knight left the city of Griffonstone to accomplish the king’s goals with his retinue of guards and construction workers to the northern frontier. Two weeks with no communication from the human nor the lieutenant who left with him, until today that is.

Clutched in the talons of a young hen with blueish-grey feathers and fur and wearing a massager bag, was a batch letters addressed to the resident human. The young hen flies towards her destination with a smile on her beak and a pep in her wings, happy that she has a job in which she gets to talk to those she meets. Her target now in her sight the young hen angles to the left before diving down and reaching high speed that would make a lesser griffon black out, but not this hen.

Gilda the Griffon was having a rough day.

First she had to work later than normal because of the sudden boost to her business thanks to her boyfriend who suggested to the guards to try her baking and to Gilda’s amazement the guards actually liked her cooking. It was a good idea that the human had, but the increased business resulted in an overly tired older hen carrying a sack full of gold coins along with aching talons and back. The second bit of annoyance is that she now actually had to work and do her job properly since she is now having regular visitations from the guards and that means that she needs to keep up her appearance of an honest baker, and not a slouch.

Letting out another sigh of exhaustion, Gilda started to fish out the key to her home from her scarf but stopped when she heard the sound of feathers rippling in the wind at high speed and the tall tell sign of a certain happy young hen rapidly approaching her. With a withering sigh and a roll of her eyes, Gilda took a step to the left just as the young hen in the sky lands right next to her, filled with an ungodly amount of excitement and energy that borders on the extreme as she hugs the older hen.

“Gilda!”

“Gabby, I’m tired…please let me go.”

“No! Today is a beautiful day and I have letters for you!”

“If it’s junk mail just burn it.”

Laughing at her best friends usual unamused nature and lack of care, the young hen reached into her bag and pulled out a small stack of letters, a few of the bland vanilla type which is definitely bulls and junk mail, with only a scant two off colored letters that caught her eye.

“Mostly junk! But one of these is from your boyfriend!” Gabby said with a smile on her beak and a talon full of letters.

Almost in an instant, Gilda found herself filled with vitality and life as she wheeled around and pried the letters out from the young hens talons before rushing into her home all the while shouting at her.

“KAYI’LLSEEYOULATERBYE!”

Slamming the door to her home shut and herself against the door, Gilda was gitty with excitement as she finally got something from her mate and lover after two weeks of silence. Peeking through the foyer of her shared home, refusing to calm herself down and that she wanted to be the first one to read the letter before Greta comes home.

While Gilda may have been injected with a surge of energy after being told that Ian has sent her a letter, the trials and tribulations of the day made itself known and almost like magic sucked the life right out of the hen.

And why was Gilda so tired you may be asking?

Why it is because her business of scone-baking has actually had a day where it was a hit and the fair griffons of Griffonstone all wanted a piece of what she had to sell. Instead of the normally small number of customers that just barely keeps her hobby/business afloat, today she had enough money to take the ever so rare and highly coveted week off, or in her case a day off so that she, like everygriff else, to make more money to enjoy the finer things in life.

So that is why our lovely hen is currently feeling like death incarnate at this very moment, and as she makes her way towards the living room she notices a distinct lack of Greta’s voice nor see any of her feathers on the floor.

With not a speck of Greta in sight and not a peep from her friend outside, Gilda looked through the stack of letters she took from Gabby and began to sift through them before stopping at the one she was looking for.

It was a letter from her lover and mate, Ian.

Leaving the rest of the letters behind on the floor, Gilda excitedly took off and flew into the living room before dive-bombing onto the sofa and tore the letter open before retrieving its contents and began to read what was inside.

To my dearest hens, Gilda and Greta

The journey to Talon’s End was brief and I will be beginning the construction project by tomorrow morning, and it will be complete within at least five months, less if the crew isn’t lazy or something stupid happening. Gilda, I left my hoodie on the sofa so you can wear that when it’s lazy day and as for Greta, let her know that my jacket is still in the closet next to your collection of trophies from that strange world pony flight camp in Equestria.

I’ll try to bring back a souvenir or two for you both and maybe one for Scrawny if I can find something that fits him. Also tell Grandpa Gruff that I won't be able to make it to poker night till I get back.

With warm regards, your handsome stud muffin.
Ian the Great.

PS, please for the love of Boreas do not set the house on fire again while I’m gone, I am still paying off the deposit from last time.

Gilda set the letter down and started to snicker to herself after reading the last bit of the letter a second time. She knew she was right when she picked that tall, strange biped as her flockmate, someone to anchor her down and mellow her out, someone brave and bold enough to do something incredibly stupid and come out of it just fine.

Now if only Greta could get that massive stick out of her backside, and everything would be coming up Gilda.

With not a Griffon in sight and not a Greta in the house, Gilda scampered and looked around for it, the excited hen soon saw it, laying there on the headrest of the middle loveseat, a single solitary sweater, grey in color and covered in light beige and light scarlet fur strands from the numerous snuggle and cuddle sessions they would have after the numerous rough days at work.

Putting on the sweater and reveling in its softness and the fact that it smells of me sends the lone griffon into heaven, hugging herself as she rolls on the sofa all the while giggling like a little chick who just fell in love.

That all came to an abrupt halt when she hears the front door slamming open as an all too familiar tired voice rings through the building.

“Gilda! You home yet?”

Letting out a quiet sigh she sits up and makes herself comfortable on the sofa before calling back to her friend.

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m in the living room enjoying todays newspaper comics.” Gilda says as she looks at the newspaper on the coffee table, a miniature comic of a male griffon wearing a tacky tie that is curved upwards pointing at his heel sitting behind a desk complaining about his job.

Dragging herself through the doorway was a very tired looking Greta, and looked like she was just thrown through a hurricane.

“Anything come in today?” Greta asks as she slumps into the room before throwing herself onto the loveseat, not even bothering to lift her head up to look at her friend.

“Yeah, some junk mail, bills, today's newspaper and a letter from Ian.” As soon as Gilda said that a very excited griffon torpedoes into her, knocking her off her feet as the two roll around before coming to a halt, Greta on top of a dazed and dizzy Gilda as the upper hen smiles triumphantly before launching herself into the air and flies straight to her room.

Picking herself up and standing in her wobbly legs, Gilda grumbles and mumbles about how inconsiderate her flockmate is before going back to laying on the sofa with her prize.

At least Gilda got her sweater, and she is loving every second of it.

Now to work on figuring out how to get that stick out of her friend's ass.

Ian of House Wilkinson
Knight of House Wilkinson
Third Day of Winter, November, year 1000 of Our Heavenly Lord Boreas.

To King Guto, High King of Griffonia and the ruler of our great nation.

I have arrived at Talon’s End and have met with the mayor of the village, opening our discussion with the reason for our group’s arrival and received approval for the construction projects within his lands. At first, I was skeptical that he would interfere with my plans and even try to usurp the operation, but alas my reasons were unfounded as he wants what is best for his people and the village as a whole.

The construction crew has already begun to lay out the plans for what is being created and what will be scrapped from the old mill, much of it is salvageable which means much can be saved for later use or spare parts should the mill suffer any damage during its usage. And as for the locals, they appear to be skeptical of our presence, but I do believe in time that they will see us as friends and that we are only here to help them.

With utmost loyalty and devotion,

Sir Ian Wilkinson
Knight of Griffonia

Reclining in the deep purple satin seat, letting out a deep relaxing sigh as soft material helped him unwind after a long day of bureaucracy and nobles who think that they can go over his plumage.

Rolling up the scroll and passing it off to his attendant, the old griffon king smiles faintly at the report as yet another brick has been laid down and set. His plan to revive the populations hope in their nation and their king has begun in earnest as his daughter also sent a letter saying that the manufacture companies she spoke to have begun to shift their forges in favor of the better and newer ones their intrepid friend has designed and delivered to them.

From an outsider's view looking inside the griffon kingdom, it is a sickly bird that looks like it will never get better, but it is with that partial inspection of the whole that it will be their downfall. The bird is sick yes, but it has finally been given proper medicine and treatment and is well on its well to bring alive and well.

And if he plays his cards right, he will even surpass his ancestors and elevate his people as the sole inheritors of this continent with all the other nations serving as their vassals and tributaries.

Now if only his newest knight would stop being so stubborn and marry his daughter.

Sure, his beloved daughter will forever hate his guts and scorn his name till her dying breath for marrying her off to a non-griffon but sometimes the ends justify the means.

Having access to knowledge beyond anything his griffon scholars, minotaur warrior priests, and diamond dog remembrancers can ever come up with. Hells, probably even what the equestrian arcs it’s and enchanters could never come up with these inventions is the best reason why his daughter should marry the tall biped.

If Eraclea can understand his reasoning, that sometimes one must sacrifice one’s own happiness for the greater good of the people.

A lesson that she would learn when the time comes, just like how he had to.

For the greater good of the realm.

If only she can understand.

Two Months and three days since Ian left for Talon's End
January 6th, 1001 HLB or ALB

To my lovely hens, Greta and Gilda
It has been two months since I left for this township, and I am already missing you both so dearly. The long nights without you two have proven to be harsh and I already miss having you both beside me.

The griffons that are living out here in the frontier are starkly different from those living in Griffonstone, hell there are even ponies living out here! I didn’t even know that there were any ponies out here in Griffonia, let alone be willing to live so far away from their so-called goddesses.

The locals here so far have been treating me as if I was just like any other person instead of with obvious scrutiny and wariness that the griffons of Griffonstone gave me when I first arrived. A few of them even came up to me and asked who I am and what I am and didn’t automatically assume I was a diamond dog or a minotaur, so that is a plus. Also, the local children have started playing the game of ‘who can approach the strange tall being before running away game.’ And it is so funny to see so many of them make the attempt before running away with a smile on their faces, only one was brave enough to poke me in the leg and that earned her some admiration from her friends.

I hope to be back home soon within the coming months so that we can celebrate Yuletide together. (Christmas knockoff holiday)

With hugs and kisses and so much more, your loving stud muffin.

Ian the Awesome.

Laying upside down on the sofa by the fireplace, Greta read the letter while Gilda snores next to her, her day off from work has finally arrived to give her a much-needed reprieve.

Winter has finally started to settle in the region and Griffonstone is no different with snow starting to rain upon its occupants in light waves of fluffy goodness. Griffons are out shoveling snow off of their walkways and windowsills, guards wearing thicker scarfs and body wraps, even a few ponies and minotaurs are out going about their business in a hurry to get out of the early cold before it gets colder.

“Hey! Gilda!” Greta shouted as she rolled onto her side and placed the opened letter onto the coffee table, beside it was an earthen mug filled with a steaming drink resting on a thin plate, just begging for the hen to take a sip.

“What?!” Her friend shouted from upstairs, coming out a bit muffled as a door was blocking out her response before being kicked open.

Stumbling and bumping into everything in her path before landing in front of Greta in a soaking wet heap of fur and feathers, was Gilda, wrapped in three towels and looked like she just flew a marathon to the frontier and back.

“Ian sent us another letter!” Greta said with excitement in her voice as she grabbed the letter and waved it at her moist flockmate.

“Really? What does it say?” Gilda asked as she hurriedly started to dry herself off as to not ruin the letter, mood immediately perked up from the surprise news.

Lazily wiggling on the sofa, the lounging hen stretches from her roost, “He says that the locals are treating him decently enough and that the local young took interest and are now trying to see who the bigger hawk is.” Greta says as she rolls back over and grabs at the blanket she threw over earlier and put it back on her.

Ponies always said that griffons can easily stand the cold, that is true for the normal weather of the region, but when winter comes and one’s winter coat hasn’t fully grown in then a blanket or sweater is necessary. Greta, being a southern griffon, could only tolerate the cold on most days but when winter comes…

Waiting for her winter coat to grow is such a pain in the ass.

“And how is that going for them?” Gilda asks as she started to dab her wings, trying her best not to mess up the feather pattern that would force her to work on them again.

“Only one had the stones to poke him.” Greta says as she snuggles into her blanket, the thickly quilted covering the slightly shivering hen doing its job as Gilda flexes her wings and inspected them to see how well of a job she did on them.

“Ha! Just a poke and not a flank slap? Those chicks must be scared that he’ll eat them!” Letting out a hearty laugh as she gives a curt nod at job well done, she then turned attention to her flockmate who has turned herself into a burrito.

“Most likely, but hey at least they aren’t scared n wary of him like the idiots here when he first came here.” The burrito said as it wiggled itself into the sofa, trying to become even more comfortable than she previously was.

Sometimes one must embody the essence of the sofa burrito if they want to stay warm during the harsh winters of Griffonia. That, or purchase the expensive heating elemental crystals from Equestria along with installing the expensive and convoluted temperature system that only the nobility of Canterlot can afford.

For all of Griffonia, the only means of staying warm during its winter season is to go out and get some wood, coal or charcoal and keep the fireplace burning all the while bundling up in blankets, sweaters, scarfs or snuggling with your partner.

“True, most chicks have more courage than most their parents do, until something stupid happens.” Gilda says with a chuckle as she remembers all of the stupid and insane things she has done over the years, most recently was her own attempt at trying to retrieve the idol from the abyss.

“Did he mention when he is coming home?” Gilda asks as she finishes drying herself off, her fur fuzzing out and making her look like a fairly large puffball with legs.

Ignoring the snickering that is coming out of the sofa burrito, the tomboyish hen hops onto the sofa and starts going through the rest of the mail, immediately throwing all of the junk mail into the fireplace across from her.

“He said he’ll come home when they are done. But he is praying to come back by Yuletide.” Greta says and with a dreamy sigh she lets herself be subsumed by the quilt and sofa, becoming one with them for maximum laziness.

“He better! I wanna show him off to my parents!” Gilda says as she throws away a letter marked for Ian, the sender being from Equestria and it was marked with the royal seal.

“Not before I show him off first!” Greta says as she pokes out her beak from the quilt, a hint of anger in her tone as Gilda scoffed at her.

“I already called dibs!” And like that the peace and quiet was broken.

“My ass you called it first!”

While the two began to bicker and argue over who gets to take their mate to their parents, the equestrian letter begins to fizzle and spark, the magic placed on the letter protecting it from the fire holding strong as the letters surrounding it meet their grim fate of become ash.

As the day goes on and the pair of hen's bickers and argue who gets to do what with their human mate, and more wood is added on top of the burnt-out husks of wood and paper, the equestrian letter endures on through the fire and flames before being buried underneath fresh logs to disappear and be hidden from view.

If the pair of griffons had spent a little more time looking over the letters, they would have noticed that this letter was addressed to Ian. Marked with the royal equestrian seal of the two sisters emblazoned in gold wax, something that is only sent as a missive of absolute importance that the recipient receives the letter and read it in its entirety. What could have been so important that the hoof written letter from the desk of both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna be sent to this lone human living in the continent of Griffonia?

Who's to say, but only this.

Now it is lost and buried beneath ash and soot, it’s message unread and forgotten about and only when a great deal of time has come and went, will it be found again, and its unseen words read.

The consequences of such a letter being found so late from its destined arrival?

Who's to say?

Ian of House Wilkinson
Knight of House Wilkinson
Sixty-First Day of Winter, January 3rd, year 1001 of HLB or ALB

Progress on the construction progress is going smoothly and faster than anticipated. The locals have pitched in and joined the work force to assist the construction crew and have been deemed a boon for us that we may be finished earlier than predicted and depending maybe within three to four months instead of the six I have estimated. Many of the locals have managed to befriend several of the workers, myself included as I have made an ally with the mayor over a game of devil’s dice (I think the old bird is cheating).

There is however, been one complication that has arisen time and time again. The current lord of the region, I have forgotten his name, but he so far has been an annoying thorn in my side since I set foot within the village. He appears every three-to-four days and all he does is belittle the project and my crew, citing that we should not be here and that they should be busy doing something productive like tending to his manor that is ‘need’ of repairs. Even when showing your seal of approval and your mark the fledgling lord continues to be a source of discord, I fear that someday a worker or civilian may decide to shut him up.

But nevertheless we proceed as planned, nothing short of war or plague can stop this project and neither was seen within and around the village.

With utmost loyalty and devotion,

Sir Ian Wilkinson
Knight of Griffonia

Placing the scroll down onto the ancestral oak table and rubbing his beak, the good king grumbles about the young lord interfering with his life’s great work.

It is one thing to stick one's beak where it doesn’t belong, it is another matter entirely to try and fuck it up when your presence isn't requested or required.

“Riki, get an Outrider and tell them to come to my office.” The old king said as he rolled up the scroll and placed it next to an old tome that looked as fragile as its age.

“I take it somegriff went over your beak, sir?” Riki the Head Butler said as he bowed to his king, even for a griffon well into their 90s he was still spry enough to move without complaining about back or knee pain.

“Indeed.” That one word was all that was needed.

Indeed. For the king, he knew that this grand plan of his requires everygriff to do their part, to not question their role in the grand scheme of things, and for everything to slide into place. And for one noble lord to stick their beak where it doesn't belong and try to stop his plan on revitalizing the empire and breath life back into it so that it can return to its former glory.

All of Griffonia was once under the imperial banner of the griffons and all who stood beneath it benefited from their presence.

Because if it wasn't for them then the many highways and roads would not exist, they would simply be lost and never find their way home or know where they are going.

If it wasn't for the griffons then the basic infrastructure that they laid out wouldn't exist, their towns would be falling apart and still be made of inferior materials that wouldn't survive the temulent weather that hammers away at their lands.

If it wasn't for their king and their laws that govern them and guide them from the old ways of barbarism, they would still be nothing but warring clans fighting for scraps while those around them pick them off one by one till none of them are left.

It is because of the griffons that Griffonia became a united land mass during The First Age, or from those across the mountains and seas, The Age of Discord, and stood together when the world was falling apart into discordant fractured existence because of one god's desire for everything to never be 'boring' and 'orderly'. It was during this age that the griffon clans came together and united under a single banner, a single ruler, their emperor, and it was from this griffon did they spread their reign from western side of the Ruby Mountains to the eastern side of the Celestial Ocean.

But like all great things, it came to an end because those around them feared them.

“It will be done.” And his Will was carried out, it wasn’t long before one of his few Outriders entered his chambers and salutes the old king.

The griffon in question looked about as ordinary and plain as any other central griffon, brown fur and white feathers, his only feature that makes him stand out like a sore talon is his perpetual resting bitch face.

“You called for me your eminence.” The grizzled griffon said with a voice that sounded like he has been gargling frogs, a heavy smoker of pipeweed as he smelled like smoke and unwashed fur that hasn't seen water in weeks.

“There is an upstart lord in Brantbeak Hollow who is disrupting the resurgence.” Guto said as he looked at the lone griffon, authority in his voice and power in his eyes.

Already knowing what his job is the veteran griffon gave a salute before speaking, “Your will be done.”

“Do not kill him nor those in his employ, just a scare will do. But warn him that any future interference will be met with punishment of the highest order.” Guto said with a hint of finality in his voice, he knew that his plan for the resurgence hinged on this success.

For if the burgeoning township sees an uptick in growth and revenue because of the new additions, then he shows the entire council that his idea to use the knowledge of an outsider to better their kingdom was the right choice to make, further increasing his power over those he saw as scavengers and talon-lickers that somehow managed to burrow their way into power.

The Outrider saluted one last time before turning and leaving the room, neither the king more his loyal butler said a word.

"Make sure we tell our friend that his little friend is doing well, I owe it to him after all his years of service." Guto said in a tired tone, knowing exactly what his old friend is going to say when he hears the news.

"It will be done, your grace." And with those words, Riki left the room, leaving the king alone as the only sounds that can be heard is the crackling of fire and the ticking of the clock.

His grand plan for the empire's resurgence is at risk and he will be damned if anyone gets in his way, be they pony, griffon, minotaur or diamond dog, none will stop him from reviving his kingdom and saving his people from internal turmoil.

Gazing at the fireplace, the dancing flames flickering before him as he recalls what happened all those years ago.

His old spymaster will tell him the same words that still haunt him till this very day.

“I told you that they are coming.”

"I told you so."

Date: January Twenty-fifth, 1001 AD

To my pretty birdies, Gilda and Greta
Hey, I got you ladies some matching scarfs that we can all wear including one really long one that the three of us can wear together and it matches your feathers so it won't look too bad. Also tell Scrawny that I got him a new jacket since his old one is falling apart.

Also tell Grandpa Gruff that he was right about that bet we made before I left.

I’ll be back within the next two months as progress is moving fast so I’ll be ready for hugs before the first day of Spring.

With sappy love just the way you like it, your macho, macho man.

Giggling at the ending bit of the letter before placing it down Greta curled herself up into a pancake and resumed her restful rest as she went through the newspaper and scanned the pages, hoping to spy anything entertaining within its pages.

The weather outside has taken a rather frightful turn as it started to snow harder with high winds, resulting in Gilda and Greta being snowed into their own house and trapped for all of a few seconds as one hen was resourceful enough to have kept a shovel inside their home just for such an event to happen. After much shoveling and swearing at how freaking cold it is, Gilda opened up a path for them to take and with luck being on her side she didn’t have to worry about it caving in and having to make it a second time.

With the weather turning foul and having to deal with it for another two months, the hens decided that they were going to pass the time by getting to know each other even more and quite possibly see if they can get a letter out to their stud muffin out in the frontier with something to keep him happy while away.

So far neither of the two could properly put their thoughts to paper and just laid there on the sofa, grumbling loudly.

“Gods above, everything we came up with is either too sappy and mushy that it feels like a love-stuck filly would write or it’s too formal that he may think it’s some lonely noble hen trying to court him.” Greta says as she crumpled another letter before tossing it into the fireplace.

Gilda let’s out a grunt as she too tosses a letter into the flames, not even bothering to give her friend a verbal response.

“I swear, just how hard is it to write a letter to our mate? We both know that he is denser than a brick at the best of times and yet he understands us when we least expect it? So how is it that writing to him as almost as impossible as trying to fly in the abyss?” Gilda exasperatedly says as she places her talons in her beak and sighs explosively, her frustrations starting to get the best of her.

“No idea Gilda, but all I can say is that he wrote three letters to us, and we haven’t sent him one, so get busy brainstorming.” Gilda replies as she too is starting to feel her friends' anger within herself as her tail begins to thrash back and forth, clearly showing off her anger while she herself isn’t facially showing it.

After several hours of brainstorming, groaning, yelling at the paper to stop being a colossal dick, and sleeping on the sofa, the pair finally came up with a ‘good enough’ letter to send to Ian. The pair looked like they got into a fight with a manticore and almost lost, but that was from overworking their brains to try and come up with something to write.

Giving the letter one last look over, Greta nods her head with a faint smile before looking over to Gilda who is snoring on the sofa, laying on her back with legs giving the smallest of kicks. Shaking her head at her friends' apparent defeat at the talons of parchment and ink, Greta quickly skips to the mailbox outside and places the letter within its wooden confines before rushing back inside before the cold could grip her body.

Slamming the door shut with a huff and a sigh the hen can finally relax and finish her book, a charming little thing that she found in Grandpa Gruff’s store the other day.

How to woo your partner when they are being dense.
By Lady Amore

Ian of House Wilkinson
Knight of House Wilkinson
One Hundred and Thirty-Fifth Day of Winter, March 19th, 1001 HLB

The mission to provide Talon's End with the experimental Sawmill and Fisheries has been completed within the allotted timeframe that you have provided to me alongside with some of the leftover materials being given to the village for them to use as they see fit. The Saw Mill will work as intended and provided an increase in lumber production in the area which will see an increase in wealth for the village while the Fishery will provide an increase in food for both the village and any nearby villages as well that come to trade, thus further increasing the wealth value of the village and provide more gold and food for Talon's End in the short and long term.

A celebration of sorts is being thrown for us this evening, and normally I would be wearing formal attire for such outings but seeing what they are preparing for us I think that forgoing such formalities will prove to be necessary. I know that I will miss some of the ponies and griffons that reside within the village as I have befriended a number of the locals, getting to know them and seeing them all happy with their children brings a smile to my face, alas I will miss them when it is our time to leave tomorrow. Once the celebration is complete and the workers and guards sleep off any hangover or overeating, we will commence in returning back to Griffonstone posthaste with a full report ready for you upon our arrival.

With utmost loyalty and devotion,

Sir Ian Wilkinson
Knight of Griffonia

March Twenty-fourth, 1001 HLB

Sorry loves but shit hit the fan over here.
It’s not my fault this time, honest! Apparently some minotaurs from Minos wanted to hire me or bribe me to come back with them and were willing to sacrifice a village of griffons to get me but everything is calming down here on the frontier.
Sorry but it looks like I am going to be late coming home.
And if I don’t make it back in time to meet your parents, just know that I am now the Alpha of a clan of diamond dogs so expect me to stink of wet dog.
With love eternal, Ian

“With love eternal, Ian.” Gilda says as she puts the letter down, her eyes downcast and a frown on her beak as her wings sag to her sides and tail curl inward.

A cough from her side and Gilda knew the unspoken question was unsaid as she leaned over to where she keeps her coin purse and pulls out fifteen gold coins and hands them over to Greta.

The pair would routinely make bets of things that happen within and around Griffonstone, and with Greta having an ear or two in the upper class from her merchant dealings and Gilda the ears of the commoners, the pair would always place bets on who does what or what does whom.

And the latest bet; Whether or not Ian gets into trouble while out on the frontier.

"I see...I guess I will tell my parents that we are going to have to reschedule our date to a latter time but that can wait." Greta says as she lets out a disappointed sigh before walking over to the unlit fireplace and noticed a strange white tipped object poking out from the ashes within the basin.

"I'll say, I hope that bastard is alright, last time he was in an incident he ended up in the castle infirmary with injuries that should have killed him. I cannot imagine what has hit him this time let alone wonder what it even means for him to be an Alpha for a pack of diamond dogs when he is a griffonian knight." Gilda says as she picks herself up and goes over to the window and looks out to see Gabby flying by, dropping off a a few letters in somegriffs mailbox before continuing on her route.

Spring has came in force and it swept away the snow and the resulting slush for the most part is gone into puddles and new growth from weeds and grass in the streets.

"How did he even become an Alpha? I thought that was something only diamond dogs could be since its all... you know, tied to their packs and clans? I know he was captured by the group that made their home in the abyss before they fled when the equestrian princess of the night secretly invaded our home to rescue one of her precious ponies, but it doesn't answer the unspoken question of how he became an alpha." Greta says this as she leans down and pushes a talon through the ashes, stirring and sifting through the remnants before coming into contact with a flat papery surface.

"Maybe he beat the shit out of one and took his title? They probably go by the rules of you keep what you kill." Gilda replies back as she watches a group of young griffons fly by, laughing to each other as the school day has come to an end for the day.

"Probably, but I am wondering how that will come into play with his role as a knight. He is sworn to protect the empire and its people, but as a clan alpha he is beholden to the clan.” Greta grumbles a bit as she pulls out the unmarred envelope from the cold fireplace and looks it over, noticing that it is still in pristine condition despite having been placed in the fireplace for who knows how long.

"Ugh... this is confusing me." Gilda groans out as she flops onto the sofa, clearly out of her element as she was not expecting Ian to return home so late let alone suddenly get a self-promotion from an outside force.

"It is confusing me as well Gilda, all we can hope for is that Ian returns to us safe and sound and no worse for wear." Greta says this but her tone is lower than normal as she continued to inspect the strange envelope, aside from its pristine condition and the fact that it is now glowing faintly a golden and navy blue hue, it is also that it bears a golden seal on it.

"Yeah, and when he gets home, we can snuggle together and just sleep it off." Gilda says and lets out a dreamy sigh, long has she missed their routine cuddle-n-snuggle sessions they all would have. The feeling of hands combing through feathers and fur is something that she will not allow anygriff to have or ever feel.

Not unless they pay a nominal fee of a few dozen gold coins that is.

"True, but I bet five gold that our king will send him off on another mission as soon as he gets home." And like that the pair were already starting the next betting pool, the previous one being if anything stupid was to happen during Ian’s trip.

"Five gold says he gets the week off to rest and recover." And there is the counter offer.

"Deal. Now that is out of the way, Gilda." Greta says as she walks over to her flockmate, letter in hand and a question on her mind that lies just on the tip of her beak.

"Yeah Greta?" The tomboy hen says as she stretches and lets the newspaper she was reading fall over, the funnies section on full display as that is the only thing that Gilda ever looks at since she thinks the rest of it is boring or stupid, especially the crossword puzzle section.

Crossword puzzles are for nerds.

"I was cleaning out the fireplace just now and I found the most peculiar thing in there." Greta walks over to her tired flockmate and waits for her to get done stretching, after having been lazy all day and is trying to get back into a more functional form as pins-n-needles makes itself present in her limbs as she then flops over at the sudden prickling sensation with a squeak.

"Was it a bone from that steak I had last week? Sorry about that." Gilda says as she flaps her wings, granting her lift and the strength to get into a sitting position as Greta stops in her tracks at what was said.

"Steak? Wha? No, it wasn't that, but it does explain why I keep smelling something delicious whenever the fireplace was lit. No, I am talking about this letter I found in there." Finally pulling herself out of that mental fog that hit her like a loaded wagon and finally putting the final piece of the puzzle together as to why the entire house smelled like cooked steak for the past week, it was just a lazy Gilda throwing the bone with meat bits still on it into the fire.

And with that out of the way Greta flashes Gilda the letter before bopping her on the beak with it.

"Letter? How did a junk letter survive being in the fireplace for so long?" Tilting her head to the side in her trademark sign of confusion or not knowing what is happening, Greta lets out a sigh, clearly not having enough to drink to deal with this.

"If it was a normal letter, it would be nothing but ashes in the basin, but this is no ordinary letter." Greta says as she starts to spell out what is so different about the letter being held in her talons.

"This letter bears the enchanted seal of the equestrian diarchy, signed personally by both equestrian princesses." Greta says as she holds the letter up for Gilda to see, especially the equestrian seal on the golden wax.

"Huh...uhh... I have no idea how it got in there?" Gilda very sheepishly says as she tries to act like she didn't know or didn't see it when she casually threw it into the fire.

"Gilda, did you just throw this in there with the rest of the junk mail we usually get?" Greta says as Gilda just sits there looking away from her with a scrunched look on her beak.

The scant few seconds of silence was all that was needed for Greta to put the two pieces together and shake her head with a sigh.

"Well you found it in there so yeah I guess so. Why? What is the big deal about it?" Gilda says as Greta shoves the seal in her face and makes her get a real good look at it to see what she is missing.

"Other than that Ian got a letter from equestrian royalty? It's a pretty big frackin' deal!" Greta says with an exasperated sigh, upset that her friend thought that a letter from the equestrian monarchy is considered junk and should be junked.

With that out of the way Greta puts her talons to the seal and tries to peel it open but it is stopped when it zaps her with a spark of electricity.

“Yeeeouch! What in Boreas’s name was that?!” Greta shouted as she dropped the letter and held her left talons to her chest, the right ring talon itself is slightly burnt and is still smoking.

“No idea but that looked like that hurt.” Gilda says as she takes the log poker from the fireplace and gives the letter a few pokes to see if it is safe.

“Oh yeah, it sure as plucking hell hurts. It’s as if my talon was struck by raw lightning! That could’ve killed me!”

“Yeeesh, you’d think those pony princesses would have only used a sleep spell or something else to stop somegriff from prying, not outright murder!” Gilda says as she keeps on poking the letter on the floor, slowly moving it back towards the fireplace where it came from.

“Maybe they were assuming that Ian has their magical resistances? I mean he did tell us that Princess Luna shot him in the chest with a magic bolt and all it did was leave a blue-purple stain on his shirt.”

"Doesn't matter if he has magic resistance or not, what if somegriff simply touched the wax seal and got zapped and was a younger or older griffon? They could have died! Ooooooh I am going to write a strongly worded letter to those two idiots!" Greta says as she leaves the room for a few moments only to return with an unmarked envelope, a fresh sheet of paper and an ink well with quill ready for writing as she sat herself down and started to hastily write with anger-fueled words.

“Wait... is that the reason why that one shirt of his smells like blueberries? Cause that lunar princess shot him with magic?” Gilda says in disbelief, clearly not wanting to believe that the lunar diarch of equestria straight up blasted him with an arcane bolt of energy that resulted in a sweet-smelling stain.

“Yeah.” Greta says with little enthusiasm in her singular word, her mind clearly being put into its all for her rage-letter she was putting together.

“Did she bloody mark him?”

"I sure as Maar hope not, Ian is ours, not that whorse across the ocean." Greta says through clenched beak, still angrily writing.

"Well, clearly he didn't take her up on her offer because he is with us, but it is making me wonder if that is what the letter is about, if that is some weird equestrian courtship from back in her time." Gilda says as she leaves to the kitchen to grab herself a snack, all the while Greta is still writing but then her quill snaps in half.

"Damn it...well this is good enough, can't wait to send this so they can read it and have a piece of my mind!" Greta says as she takes the envelope and slides the letter in it before sealing it up and flies out of her house and slams it in the mailbox before coming back inside.

Back in Equestria, a certain lunar pony suddenly sneezes and looks around, thinking that someone was sending her hateful energy for no reason before shrugging her shoulders and goes on about her night, thinking nothing of it.

Ian of House Wilkinson
Third Day of Spring, March 22nd, 1001 HLB

I am sorry for the delay, there has been incident. A grave incident that will have far reaching consequences for all.

Two days ago Talon's End was attacked by several clans-worth of diamond dogs that have originated from the Ruby Mountains and at first I have thought that they were raiding Talon's End for both its stockpile of resources and its citizens to enslave, but it was only after some time has passed during the raid that I was able to enter a state of temporary truce and communicate with the commanding officer who was in charge of the assault on the village. From the brief discussion I had it turns out that the commanding officer wasn't of a military sort but was instead the Alpha of Clan Halistro and he was here at Talon's End because of a troupe of minotaur's that was passing through their lands that have been illegally acquiring their territory through falsehoods and deception.

The Minotaur King has committed several appalling amounts of crimes that pale in comparison to what that traitor has done ranging from false documents, illegal land grabbing and enslavement all the way up to mass murder and genocide. Contained within this letter is undeniable proof of his actions and his crimes cannot go unpunished.

To further use this against him I am sending with you a prisoner of extreme diplomatic value, his nephew who led the attacks on the diamond dog clans and who led their retaliation force to our doorstep. The bulls that were following him have been executed with the exception of a porter who is returning to Minos to deliver a message to their king, a very clear message.

I know that I have overstepped my boundaries by taking such drastic actions, but I fear that they are necessary for the coming storm, if we are to weather through it, we must everything at our disposal to see the coming dawn.

I and I alone am responsible for the actions that have been conducted during this conflict and I will take any and all punishment, even those that may rest upon the shoulders of those under my command and those that now follow me.

With regards,
Sir Ian of House Wilkinson
Knight of Griffonia and Alpha of Clan Halistro

“With regards, Sir Ian Wilkinson, Knight of Griffonia and Alpha of Clan Halistro…” A tired voice said as the aged griffon king placed the bloodstained letter on a silver tray beside his throne, the royal parcel carrier bowing his head before stepping back away from his king.

The throne room is deathly quiet as the assembled nobles who were waiting in line to have their grievances and complaints heard by their heavenly king were silent as they listened to everything their noble king uttered out.

Every single noble lord and lady in the grand chamber had their fur and feathers bristling in an anger almost none of them have ever felt or heard of before but were displaying it, nonetheless. Even the guards were barely holding back their indignation at what was spoken, and the eyes of every single griffon were looking at the lone minotaur in the room who was on their knees, body bloodied and bruised from the beating he received on that fateful day.

“Of all of my years as the High King of Griffonia, I have never, ever, heard of such atrocities be committed by your kind, not even from the stories from my father and his father before him. But with the proof lying before me and from your correspondence between your uncle and yourself I can say that there will be Tartarus to pay for your appalling crimes.” The king said as he stood up from his throne and slowly walked over to the kneeling bull, studying his prey as his eyes burned with the fury of a thousand suns.

“Time and time again I were told that the Minotaur are an honorable lot who deeply respect strength and honor above all else. My father often spoke kindly about you, often would he say that the pride of Minos was in its architecture and craftsmanship of metal and stone, on and on he would speak of your people's grand achievements.” High King Guto said as he started to circle the bull, hatred shining brightly in his eyes as his talons clacked loudly against the tiles of his throne room.

“But now I can see how you acquired the means of producing such works of art and what happens to those that stood in your way to get such materials.” Many of the nobles in the room started to voice their discontent and dissatisfaction, even a couple of guards and knights joined in and started to rattle their swords and spears.

Coming to a halt before the kneeling wounded Minotaur, the lord of lords of all griffonkind, the high king sneers at the defeated brute before clearing his throat.

“As High King of Griffonia, I, Guto the Eighth, hereby declare cessation of all communications and trade with Minos effective immediately!" The highest of lords said this he pressed on as the crowd began to speak in hushed tones, "We no longer have need of your trade goods nor of your false steel! We have finally taken the steps needed to reclaim our past glory!” Guto spoke boldly and loud enough for the entire chamber to hear him, his wife was quiet, his oldest daughter speechless while his youngest son stares at him with wide eyes.

Their greatest and most closely guarded secret, a secret since their human knight has bestowed the knowledge upon them and after three months of forging, testing and studying it with what little of the original steel they have left their faith has been tested and proven true.

Human steel and griffonian sky steel are one and the same, their methods of creations differed greatly but the end result is the same, a powerful forged alloy that can carve through inferior metals as easily as it can cut through flesh and bone.

The nobility in the chamber was quiet for a length of time before they began to cheer and screech in agreement, wings flaring as many stood on their hind legs and started to chant their king’s name.

“What!?” The fallen Minotaur lord shouted as the king looked down at him, knowing what he will say next.

“That’s right, Blackstone, we have finally succeeded where we have failed so many times before.” Guto said as he slowly smiles at the minotaur, a smug grin worming its way onto his beak as the minotaur started to realize what was said and what it means for him and his people.

“No, that cannot be! Griffonian steel has been lost for centuries and you lack the means to produce it!” Blackstone shouted as he struggled in his bindings, he didn't want to hear what the griffons were saying for he knows that it spells doom for all on this continent if the Griffon Empire is resurrected from its grave.

“You must be getting steel from Equestria! We have told you and your father and his father before him that kingdoms of Griffonia shall never again acquire steel under the penalty and punishment of war!” the chained minotaur shouted again as he kept struggling within the steel chains and manacles holding him in place.

Looking down at the wiggling worm that is the minotaur, King Guto can only laugh at his feeble attempts as he keeps on grinning at him.

“Ha! Like we would use that pathetic gold and steel alloy they use, that frail yet heavy lump of failure is no match for what is wrought from the heavens!” One of the nobles shouted as several around him all voiced their agreement.

“In the past it was our steel that has brought together our kin under a single banner before spreading our wings and talons to the rest of this great continent. We may have fallen by the wayside when Discord brought us low and broke our bodies with his madness and centuries later did our spirit break when the cyclops killed my ancestor and stole the Idol of Boreas.” An aged griffon said as he stepped forward, flanked by two Papal Guards adorned in silvered steel armor, gripping tightly their gilded halberds.

Stepping closer to the steel-bound minotaur was an aged griffon adorned in gilded red and white robes, a red cap laying atop his balding head with a gold necklace with the symbol of Boreas resting across his chest, his eyes filled with the weight of countless decades as he gazes deep into the minotaur kneeling before him.

“But now in our darkest hour, our savior came from beyond our lands, and although he is no griffon and was not beholden to give back our idol, he did so because he said it was the right thing to do. A non-griffon did what so many could not or would not do and he refused payment or any reward that would be befitting such a deed. It was because of this being did our spirit return to us and our perseverance has rewarded us with our resurgence back onto the world stage!” The elderly griffon said as if he was giving a sermon to the faithful within the cathedral of the gods, all within the royal chambers are looking at him with their undivided sole attention.

Archon Eros the Seventh, the Herald of Boreas and the leader of the Three Archons, was standing tall with his wings flared out to make himself larger than he truly is and even with his advanced age he still was a threat to any who would dare.

“That mutt is nothing more than a fool! We know what he is doing for you, and it won’t be enough to stop us! He is simply delaying the inevitable!” Blackstone said as he snarled at the old griffon before him, thinking that he can scare the wizened bird to his death, but he is proven wrong when Eros slaps him across the face, claws not extended as to not leave a mark.

“You mean Prometheus?” The king said as an eyebrow raises, questioning the bull on his threat.

“…” Blackstone became silent and bit his tongue to stop himself from accidentally revealing anything else to the griffons, doing his best to retain what little honor and dignity he has left.

“So, you are giving us the silent treatment? No thinly veiled threats nor promises of suffering?” Eros says as he weakly laughs at Blackstone before stepping up to Guto and moves to his left side as his wife moves to his right.

“It does not matter; we will deal with you and your king in time but for now we have more pressing matters.” Queen Victoria says as she scoffs at Blackstone, dismissing him as if he was far beneath her gaze.

“Lords and Ladies of Griffonstone! Tonight, we cast off our old trappings and embrace who we are!”

“We are warriors!” Eros shouts as the gathering of nobles and commoners alike voice their agreement in a shouting chorus.

“We are knights!” Knight Commander Harper shouted as both guard and knights alike cry out in unison.

“We are Pride!” Victoria shouted as the crowd roared their approval the loudest.

“We are griffons who have been blessed by Boreas, Arcturius and Eyr! We have been chosen by the gods themselves to carry out their will and we will unite Griffonia under a single banner once more! We have stumbled off of the path for too long, now is the time for us to unfurl our wings and fly once more!” the assembled crowd was all in an uproar of approvals and cheers as their king stood in bis hindpaws and spread his wings, letting out an ear-piercing screech of a war call as all within the room joined with him.

“Tonight, our resurgence begins!”

And it was on that night that the orders were given and sent to every corner of the empire and to its territories.

The plans have been laid out, the templates shared with every single industrialist, buisnessgriff, religious leader and lord enchanter in the empire and the order was a simple one.

Revitalize the empire and bring it into the modern age.

No matter the cost.

I am terribly sorry it has taken me this long to release a chapter, between the long hours n shifts at Walmart wearing me down and causing me to lose on writing time along with losing the will to write because of work exhaustion, I will push through and give all of you the best you all deserve. There are three more chapters in the pipes in varying stages of completion.