Bar None

The sun began its journey downwards, courtesy of a certain Princess that dwelled in the large city. The beams reflected off the upper-class areas first, their shining structures proclaiming their supposed-higher status for all of Canterlot to see.

The sun's rays then migrated to the outskirts of the city. There weren't official 'slums' in Canterlot; but there certainly was a lower-income area. Of the few homeless that existed, they lived here, as did families struggling to start their own life in the city.

On one of the main streets leading out of the city, a large building watched over the smaller houses like a mother bird tending to her chicks. It appeared to be of old wooden structure, but a few cracks revealed a recent and sturdy structure underneath the aged exterior. The old wooden sign appeared to have weathered both time and elements, but bore signs of recent re-staining and painting.

Bar None - Everyone welcome.

Through the large carved wooden doors was the main room: a dining and 'bar' area. The Bar None was known for being a family establishment, one where even the little children could go over to the 'bar' and have a glass of apple juice (with added fizz, of course.) No alcohol being served had threatened the reputation of the business, but the atmosphere easily made up for it. The imported goods also made it quite a popular stop, particularly for individuals such as griffins and other carnivores/omnivores. Where else could you get a slab of venison in Canterlot?

The tables, chairs, and all other furniture were of similarly-colored wood. The chairs for youngsters were slightly lighter-stained, to appear as though harvested from younger trees, whereas the larger benches were of darker shade. The light was provided by both electricity and candle, depending on the area you wished to eat, the time of day, or the preference of the customers. There was a small outdoors area, which opened up to accommodate many more guests during the summer months.

The staff busied themselves with the various tasks of closing up for the night, or at least preparing for the late-night individuals. Just because they didn't serve intoxicating drinks didn't mean the regulars didn't come by. Nights was when the second part of the business kicked into high gear; providing a place for those down on their luck to rest and get their bearings. Many of the staff had actually started from being a recipient of the owner's generosity, having either been stuck in Canterlot on business, or simply run out of bits.

Now, none could think of working anywhere else.

The only non-pony staff (aside from the minotaur cook in the kitchen,) was the owner. At first, the few non-pony individuals had, like the lack of alcohol, proved a challenge in the somewhat-snobby circles of Canterlot. But, as with many things, appearances were deceiving.

“A pretty good day, eh Ebs?” A perky voice sounded from across the empty eating area, as was normal during the twilight hours. The culprit was one of the servers, a yellow earth pony by the name of Rolls (fitting, considering his cutie mark was just that, a set of pastry rolls.)

The dark grey griffin nodded, shifting his white-tipped wings and tail in thought.

“Hmm. Indeed. Do you think the regulars will come by tonight?”

Ebony Suntail shrugged his wings, not able to restrain a smile.

“Probably. I still don't know how you can manage staying up all night....”

Rolls shot his own grin back, casually sweeping up a persistent pile of dust.

“I've always felt better on a flipped sleep schedule. I've been tempted to apply for the night guard a couple of times, as a matter of fact.” The stallion remarked pensively.

Ebony now was genuinely curious, never having thought Rolls to be the guard type.

“What stopped you?”

The pony deadpanned, raising an eyebrow as he stared at his employer.

“Do you remember what happened when someone spilled a certain blood-colored drink all over themselves?”

The griffin couldn't hide a snicker. Poor Rolls had thought the mare had sliced her hoof open....and the poor stallion had fainted on the spot.

“Point taken...Hey, who's that? I've never seen that customer before. Is she passed out or something?” Rolls nodded towards a distant corner of the eating area.

Ebony looked over in the direction Rolls had indicated, and began walking over to the secluded table, ears flicking with curiosity.

“Not sure...hey...it's a griffin.....” Ebony's sentence switched to talking to himself towards the end, causing Rolls to chuckle.

“Indeed it is, which is why I brought this one to your attention. Not too many of your kind in these parts.”

Ebony nodded, walking closer to the fellow griffin- and a female griffin at that. Even rarer, since most individuals in the military of their society were male – the only type of griffins ever to frequent Canterlot.

“'Scuse me, miss? Everything alright?”

A soft mumble was the other griffin's reply, and a kind smile twitched at Ebony's features. She was passed out cold from what he could only assume was lack of sleep. The table was scattered with a few drinks and the remnants of a meal, as well as quite a few quills, ink, and partially-scrawled on pieces of parchment.

“Can you get Fizzy for me? We've got another sleeper.” Ebony nodded towards the outside area, indicating where the unicorn Fitzgerald (or, as he preferred, Fizzy,) was currently cleaning the tables.

“Sure...you not going to carry her up yourself?”

Now it was Ebony's turn to deadpan at the stallion as he shook his head, gathering the mess of papers together on the table.

“No. What if she woke up? Some strange griffin laying her in a bed? I don't think so.”

A chuckle rose in Roll's throat, but it was strangled by the deadly-serious gaze Ebony shot his way. Sometimes the stallion forgot: there were some things to not joke about with his employer, messing around with females being one of them.

“Erm, alrighty. Hey Fizzy! Could use your help over here!”

The brown unicorn trotted over, an eager-to-please smile on his face. Then again, all the newbies usually were...as were the long-time employees, the side effect of working in an upbeat business Ebony supposed.

“Which room should I put her in boss?” The happy unicorn piped up.

Darn it Fizz, I told you to not call me that....

“Room twelve is free. I'll be up in a moment with her belongings.”

Fizzy nodded, levitating the unconscious griffin up the stairs. For newcomers to the restaurant, such a sight usually promoted a great deal of giggles. The more frequent visitors however, would only nod in approval. There were very few places to get a few nights lodgings and food for free; Bar None being one of those establishments. The sign of an unconscious individual being floated up the stairs was just a sign of generosity, something many had come to recognize.

Ebody couldn't help but look over the mess of papers in his claws, or at least the few that were legible. Most of it was scrawled out, but a few lines stood out. There was one letter, only a line or two, that caught his attention.

Dash, I'm so sorry. I get it, alright? Please, let me just- 'illegibile' so so sorry...please...

-Gilda.

The second sentence was scratched out. Ebony wasn't sure who 'Dash' was, but at least he had a name for the griffin now bedding in room twelve. He walked up the stairs, passing Fizzy who still bore the happy smile on his face.

The griffin opened the door to the small room and lay the papers on the desk to the side of the bed. It was a very basic living area: a bed, bathroom, table, chairs (for different species) overstuffed couch, desk, and small refrigeration unit.

Not bad for starting off as a bare room scarcely a few years ago.

Ebody glanced over the room once, noting with satisfaction that Gilda had been placed on the bed, with a simply blanket drawn over her. The bonus of a unicorn...thank goodness for Fizzy.

The griffin turned the oil-lit lamp down, quietly filling, and then placing, a pitcher of water next to the bed. He had seen too many individuals show up sick and dehydrated at his door to neglect those simple needs. This individual had eaten and had a few drinks, (not alcoholic, thankfully.) but even so, Ebony didn't know the background. Better safe than sorry.

“I guess we'll have a bit to talk about in the morning Gilda. The only griffins I've seen here are soldiers, ambassadors...well, even a few families.”

He walked out and closed the door, shaking his head as he finished speaking to himself, claws clenching subconsciously.

“Families...and outcasts. So, which are you?”

Ebony heard a few of the evening regulars enter, so he aimed towards the stairs. As he walked back into the large common room, the dull tone of a newspony blared over a television in one of the corners of the room.

“It's official; the borders are closed. Despite repeated requests and attempts at negotiations, the borders are officially shut to most of the griffin provinces.....”

Author's Note

What's this? A new wild griffin story has appeared!
(a special thank you to Ten Speed for helping a LOT with the description!)

As always, feedback appreciated.