Gilda and the Innkeeper

Chapters

Farewell. And Hello!
The Inn
The Innkeeper

Farewell. And Hello!

He was alone, alone in his hidden sanctum. Everything of utmost significance were always prepared, surveyed, and approved within here, out of sight to all save few. Yet today, it appears that much, much more may learn of its existence. A tremor rumbled through the room, but he barely flinched, merely pulling his hood back to reveal a broad, rugged, red-bearded face with crimson eyes that burned more ferociously than the only candlelight in the room.

Frowning, the being whispered to the thin air, to the shadows that shrank from the light, "Show yourself."

As though she was pulling off a cloak, a lanky, inhumanly thin being that was clearly female strode out of the darkness. The two were garbed in black robes, but she stood far taller than her associate, not surprising, as he was a dwarf and she a human. Yet, the two were clearly not mere mortals to anyone standing in company of them. The glint in their eyes, the posture they held their bodies, the pressure they exude, these two had clearly dabbled in arts that were not meant for the common folk. The woman, though as bald as the dwarf, had a face of unnatural beauty, perfect pointed features accompanied with glowing green eyes that hinted at the price she paid for her power.

"Zaliek, running off already?" The woman asked, despite the question, there was no accusation in her tone.

Crouching, the dwarf grunted an affirmative as he dipped his hand into a pot of blue liquid. He carefully sketched another symbol into the circle he stood over, the dried blue lines glowing dimly as he did so. "I came from another plane, Lady Resa, and now that my work here is complete. I move on to another one, to spend what's left of my years there."

"Years?" Resa scoffed, indignation clear in her voice, "millenniums would be more like it, or eternity if I did not know better. Your power was and still is vast, even if you had changed your form and hide behind an illusion now."

"Well, I can't stay and you can't make me." The dwarf lifted his head, a knowing look in those burning red orbs, "That's our agreement all those years ago, eh?"

Lady Resa sighed as she let nostalgia permeate her mind. "Little over eight centuries, hasn't it been fast?"

"And fun too." The dwarf smiled mischievously, "this game was worth it. The murders, the wars, the deception. But it gets tiring after a few centuries. Too repetitive. Time to move on, onto the next game with far less of this I had been doing. Onto peace."

"But to another world?" Resa conjured up another image, an image of a world, her companion's destination to be exact. "You could stay in this paradise we forged and created over the course of our lives, Zaliek."

"You could stop with that name now." The dwarf replied as he sketched another symbol of power within the circle, "And that's the point. People will always hate Zaliek the Golemlord, and much less so Lok the Innkeeper."

"Innkeeper?" Resa laughed softly, her mirth for a moment displaying her as a normal being than the Dark Lady she had always been, "Mighty Zaliek, the Golemlord, Zaliek the Butcher, Sorcerer Supreme reduced to being Lok the innkeeper?" She murmured the last name dreamily, "it has been a while since I last heard that name," Resa admitted, "a play with the name when you were a human from another plane, wasn't it?"

"Indeed," Lok muttered softly, "I plan to start over again. Settle down, relax." He patted a nearby satchel on the floor, "with enough supplies to last me several lifetimes and enough knowledge of that world to know that I would not seem out of place there."

"Well, I won't hold you up," Raising her arm, Resa slid her hands free of the robe, "I still need to see the others off, and you have one more meeting before you leave." Flashing a small smile at her long-time compatriot, Resa gestured and a bright light consumed her. Before it faded, Lok heard one last statement from the woman, "Safe travels, friend. Lotesse lye omenta au'."

"Lotesse lye omenta au'," replied Lok, frowning as he did so. The phrase meant 'may we meet again' in Elvish, and as far as Lok was concerned, he had no intention of meeting anyone he knew ever again. He needed a fresh start, he had been playing this game with lives for far too long. Been grooming this world with his fellows so that peace could return to it. He had killed in cold blood, instigated downfalls without a care, toppled nations with ease and he had enjoyed it. It was like a pastime to him, a hobby and he regretted not a single moment of it. However, where he planned to go and the role he planned to play would not need these traits. As such, he prefer that no one he knew would meet him again.

A loud clang rang out behind the only door in the room, interrupting his thoughts. Lok smiled initially, but it deepened to a frown when he heard the multitude of footsteps. This was not what we agreed upon, But he always had backup plans in case things go awry. A smile touched his features as the door swung open. Ah, I thought so.

Standing in the doorway was a being as thin as Resa, but one that was definitely male. Though clad head to toe in silver armor, it would be impossible to miss the two abnormally long ears that protruded from its headpiece.

"Elf." Lok muttered. The armored figure started and the dwarf could practically see the eyes behind the visor widen in recognition. The elf's hand rose as a blue glow started surrounding it, a spell of terrifying magnitude forming around it.

The spell would have killed the both of them, maybe even destroy everything in a twenty kilometer radius around them if not properly channeled. Lok did not even give the elf half a chance. With a thought, a rune upon the wall flashed and the glow around the hand sputtered out of existence. Another thought, another symbol brightened and the elf smashed to the ground, immobilized.

Then a red blur rushed out of the hallway, and Lok could just see the flash of twin daggers descending upon his head. Smiling gently, Lok watched as the daggers stopped mere inches away from him, unable to pierce the invisible shield he had placed around him. A thought, the second rune flashed brightly again and the assassin, a human female dressed in red, collapse to the ground as well.

Slow, confident steps heralded the coming of the third one that passed through the doorway. This one was a human youth just past his teens. He was clad in silver armor not unlike that of the Elf before him, however, his head was let bare, allowing his shoulder length blond hair to flow freely. More noteworthy would be the golden circlet upon his forehead, signifying that this was the one Lok had been waiting for.

"King Garet. I believe I told you to come alone."

The youth barely flinched as he was acknowledged, Lok noted with satisfaction. It was a good omen, this child would easily become a monarch the land deserved, or had deserved for at least eight hundred years.

"Your majesty," the Elf snarled, Lok found it amusing that he could actually feel enraged in his predicament. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you meeting with the butcher?"

"Aerin, cease your struggling." Lok did not miss the authority that rang in the King's voice now, "he is the friend."

"He is the informant? The insider?"

"Yes," Lok replied, "one of many who allowed your troops to storm this final capital. And cease your hostilities, I do not want my final acts in this world to be ones drenched in blood."

"That did not stop you from committing those same heinous acts before, Zaliek the Butcher." The red robed female spat from behind her scarf, her spite clear in her eyes.

"Forgive them, Lord Zaliek-"

"Lok."

"Pardon?"

"My name is Lok. And so I will be known as again."

"Ah," The youth looked confused momentarily, before gathering his composure and continuing, "...They did not know of your contributions to our war effort." His eyes momentarily revealed a moment of sadness, "I had hoped that they could clear up any grievances with you... Lord... Lok."

"No matter, the circle is complete." Lok turned his eyes to the diagram he had drawn beneath him. "And I would disappear off the face of this world, never to be seen again."

"Running from your sins? You useless son of a–"

"Trelawn." Garet spoke, his clear blue eyes flashing with anger at the red robed female, "I would not have any more disrespect towards him!"

The woman was visibly cowed by the youth, Lok was pleasantly surprised. Garet, the boy never cease to amaze me. Thought Lok,as he turned eyes full of pride towards him. He and another had been aiding the young child from the shadows, grooming him to become the person that stood before him now. Chuckling inwardly, Lok noted surprisingly that he was indeed slightly disappointed that he would not see the young king grow up fully. Furthermore, it appears that he had indeed gathered the trust of his companions already. Centuries of experience had allowed him to tell if people trusted one another or not, and Lok could tell that they trust the youngling, even if they were unsure. Not like he actually was worried, he just needed them to not make matters worse for him.

"You could stay, Lord... Lok," The youth fumbled, apparently unused to the change of names, "you created the chance for the land to be at peace." It was obvious to Lok that Garet wanted him to stay, but he would not relent. Just as he had refused Garet his aid so that the child could improve. This was but the final lesson he would impart to the youth.

He needs to learn how to learn without the guidance of others. That and this world bores me.

"And I would not." Lok replied, a mist rising and slowly pushing the youth further away from him. "My order is finished, the three tailed comet had finally ran its course. You shall now lead this land by yourself."

"The three tailed comet?" The Elf, Aerin, spoke, shocked. "You are..."

"Yes, I am." The dwarf did not expect this turn of events. Apparently his associate had mingled far too deeply with the elves.

"I would sing of your name and deeds when Lord Garet tells them to me." Aerin pledged reverently.

"Then it be best that he tells you nought at all." Lok sighed, Elves and their traditions! That would be the last thing he need, to be remembered in a positive light by the long lived race. World be damned, they may even end up paying him personal pilgrimage if the true light of his deeds ended up in their coffers! "Just as it be best that the world believed Zaliek the Golemlord be slain in the taking of Castle Shadowmane."

"Right, ignore the woman. What IS the three tailed comet?" Trelawn had lost all her hostilities already, her voice now filled with curiosity.

"You can tell her later," Lok smiled, "I best be going."

Lok seemingly waved a hand, and his dwarven facade melted away, leaving in his place a four legged creature just slightly shorter than when he was a dwarf. "And I could not keep that illusion up anymore if I would wish to travel safely."

"A creature of old, that is your new form?" The Elf whispered, the respect in his voice causing a raised eyebrow in Lok. For long living beings prone to a slow change, elves change their tune quite fast in some instances. Aerin apparently mistook the raised eyebrow as a challenge to his supposed insult, "I mean, it is a worthy and noble visage, Lord Za—Lok."

These elves knew far too well to praise when the situation calls for it. If they only know when to partake in the events in the outside world, it would be a far better place. Lok snorted internally as he turned his head towards the future monarch of the land. He had grown fast and Lok remembered the time spent well, except that he would not need those memories anymore. The young king appeared to wish to say something, but Lok, not wishing to stay in this world for a second longer, beat him to it.

"You'll be a good king." Lok smiled, "and you'll not see me again."

The circle glowed powerfully, bathing Lok in a bright blue light. He would not worry for Garet, those two beside him were but two of hundreds loyal to the King. The youth would be safe, and he would herald this land into a future that the former dwarf would want no part of and could not be part of.

"Tell the world the Overlord, Zaliek the Butcher is finally dead in the taking of Shadowmane Fort," Lok intoned as his view of the three were obscured. "That his legacy of darkness had finally gave way to Justice."

And he's going onto the next world, the next game and that blasted inn.

Gilda trekked wearily upon the stone tiled road, she had been traveling for close to a month if she counted the day she left Ponyville in a huff. She recalled that event with a grimace, apparently she had been a bit too hasty in her decision. In a split second decision of abject foolishness, she had decided that she would rather take her chances with finding a job in Griffonia than live in a country where Dash and her 'perfect' friends live in.

And she couldn't exactly return home too...

Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of those mere distractions. She had not gone so far as to argue with her parents about her independence for nothing!

"Excuse me?"

She would not dwell upon those thoughts anymore! She will become independent of her family! She will prove to all those who believed that she was a helpless chick that she had long outgrown need for help and aid from any other person!

"Miss?"

The next town on her way would be Zudost, if she recalls properly. There had always been some simplicity to Griffonia in comparison to Equestria, if there be anyone there willing to employ her, she could easily become a resident there. Quite unlike the massive amount of paperwork she had to sign when she was merely trying to get a residence near Ponyville. Things were really much simpler here. A whole lot more simpler.

"You might want to watch out for—"

"Whoa!"

Gilda lurched forward, but managed to halt any more motion by flapping her wings, launching herself into the air before she would plant her face in the tiled road. She glared upon the path she had been trekking for a moment, before noticing an uncovered area among the stone pavement, apparently it was the culprit for her near accident.

"You alright, lass?"

Gilda's eye narrowed as she took in the Griffon who had supposedly stood aside without helping her. He was of a lean build, and was decked in yellow, sandy feathers and brown fur. Perhaps a traveller from a state in Eastern Griffonia? She believed that that should be the the place where all Desert Griffons could trace their bloodline to, if she had remembered correctly from her history lessons. However, what caught her attention were those eyes, those calculating crimson eyes. Red eyes among Griffons were a rarity, and there were many claims and superstition among the Griffons beliefs regarding them. Not saying that she actually trusted those sources, but there was something remarkably unsettling about the Griffon before her.

"You alright, lass?" The Griffon repeated, his eyes narrowed in concern. Any doubts Gilda had then dissipated in a moment of fury of fury and indignation, she does not need any help! She did not leave her home, did not travel far and wide to be helped!

"Yes." Gilda snapped, her ire rose further at the bemused look that now decorated the Griffon's features. By the Eight Great Thanes, this Griffon was driving her off the edge. She was not a source of amusement, and she hates it so much more after having being pranked on by Dash and her annoying pink pony bestie!

"My apologies," the Griffon smiled, the act almost mocking to Gilda's eyes, yet she somehow managed to rein in her indignation. For some reason she could not quite place, this Griffon felt as though he were a person she should not provoke, or at least her gut thinks so and Gilda always trusts her gut.

"*Ahem*, may I know if there is a town by the name of Zudost around here, Miss...?"

Zudost? Gilda perked up at the name, that was her destination. What business does he have there?

"Gilda. What are you headed there for?"

"My name's Lok." The Griffon introduced himself, oblivious to the fact that Gilda never asked for it. "I'm seeking residence in the town of Zudost, I heard that it would be a nice and peaceful place to settle." He threw his eyes up at the sky, the act gathering Gilda's curiosity. "The day is still clear, but I believe that a storm should arrive by the passing of an hour or two. I would hope to reach that village by then."

Gilda was skeptical. The sky was clear, a very pleasant day in fact, and unlike Equestria, Griffonia holds no sway over the elements, and there was no way anyone could so easily foretell the weather with a mere look at the skies. This Lok was either a fibber or a freak or both. Well, whatever he was, he seemed to need her help and there was nothing to prevent her from giving it. She would have to be the lowest of jerks to not help another in need when no effort was literally needed on her part.

"Fine. Follow me."

Lok was very, very pleased. In where he came from, and where he just left, he rarely had the chance to watch his schemes and plans carry out successfully. As such, he always made a point to savor it as much as possible unless the act holds the possibility of ruining it. The satisfaction granted by personally putting your plans into motion and to reap the results yourself was a rare delicacy, one easily ruined by a small misstep.

Now, where was he? Enter the new realm, armed with its language, its custom, his powers and artefacts? Check. Cause an untraceable accident? Check. Use the accident to interact with the locals? Check. Ask for the locals' help? Check. Find a way to repay the aid? Seems that he would have to find a suitable reward for this young lass, apparently. However, a sudden surge of power drew his attention.

The sandy Griffon turned and gazed out in the direction that he had saw Gilda came from. If he was correct in his bearings, that direction would lead to a great ocean, and across that patch of water would be another land by the name of Equestria. Or was it country? State? No matter. He would have had settled there if not for the immense powers he could sense even now. One of which was connected to sun that even now hangs above him. Lok broke out in cold sweat as he contemplated a showdown between him and those beings.

He had lost much of his magical reserves as he enacted the final phase of the Order's plan before coming here. He no longer had the confidence to face down entire armies alone and now, there were a series of godlike powers only a few miles away.

For such a peaceful world, they do have their own defenses. Perhaps it was a mistake to... naaaaaah, I'm already here. No point crying over spilled milk. All he needed to do was to stay out of sight, besides, he's only here to open an Inn. not manipulate the workings of the world again... Was that magic moving the sun?

"By the Comet..." swore Lok under his breath. Once again, he was glad that he chose not to reside in Equestria, at least, not as he was right now. That was enough magical energy to flatten cities and scatter armies. Lok hoped that those powers would not see fit to disturb him in this town. He was getting tired of pitting his wits and might against beings that a mortal should not even be fighting.

"Are you following me or not!" A screech sounded behind him.

Well, first things first. A place to live.

The Inn

I was a mere prospector then, one who examines the value of precious stones. My ideas at that time were all decried by the guilds as the ravings of a madman and a lunatic. However, that all changed once I received an invitation from the Kingdom of Fargund, under the rule of the then rising, and later infamous, Lord Zaliek of the Ruby Gaze.

Yes, I talk about Zaliek the Golemlord. The elves called him Witchlord, and gave him a place among the Fourteen Great Evils after the Millennium War. The humans called him The Butcher ever since he wiped out the Eastern Kingdom’s armies in his conquest of their lands. We dwarves speak of him as The Nightmare of Furgand, and remember him as the greatest sorcerer amongst the dwarves despite his deeds.

Yet, as much as I hate to admit it, that invitation was start of the changing of my fortunes, my crowning moment that led to me being the Grand Prospector of the Dwarven Miner League.

It took me weeks to reach the Kingdom of Fargund from its ill-fated neighbor kingdom, Mal Grost. Yet I finally reached my destination, my hands grasping the parcel that was the fruit of my past labors. It did not take long for the guards of the Kingdom to return to me, motioning to me to enter the room where the Lord Zaliek resides.

I was in awe of the lord at the time. It was not often that lord not of the ruling house of the land to even manage to hold his realm together. Lord Zaliek appeared to be one of those exceptions. The tales say that he and a band of dwarves happened upon an undiscovered mine with a rich vein of precious stones and claimed it as their own. However, the lord of the realm nearby, wishing to claim the mine for his own, led his retinue and army to wrest it from Zaliek and his friends. They failed, and after some time, the dwarves of that rich vein of stones became the lords of the realm.

I would have to be lying if I said that I do not admire him at the time. What I saw surprised me more.

The council room was practical and lacking in any form of luxurious decorations. There was only a round table that could hold sixteen dwarves within it and even then only five of those were filled.

They were Zaliek, Duron, Fimriel, Mona and Jubros, the council of Fargund. They studied me most intently before Zaliek did something that even now was a rarity among dwarven culture.

He invited me to dine with them.

It was an honor, yes it is weird to be saying that of him now, to dine with the rulers of the realm, an honor I most certainly did not deserve at the time. However, at their insistence and the some subtle hints of serving rare and expensive vintages, I had no reason to refuse.

The feast was lavish, and I say that even then, the rulers of Fargund know how to treat their guests. Those of high ranking did not impose themselves upon others, and not even their ruler does the same to anyone. The fact that he sat at the same level as the others, that they sat on the same level as any other dwarves should be obvious to any dwarf that they view their people as equals.

After we dined, Zaliek proposed for me to present my unfinished product, the Magic Stone Canisters (MSC) that I have invented some time before the Millennium War. Immediately I know after some questioning that each of them were the experts I would have needed to construct my accomplished product. Duron possessed a wealth of knowledge concerning the geology of the land, Fimriel and Mona were experienced engineers, Jubros was a prospector much like I am, and as everyone likely knows, Zaliek was a most accomplished dwarven magus.

I was ecstatic at the time, talking to people who questioned not my lunacy, not my sanity but my methods and my product, how I would go around building it and what purpose did I intend for it to fulfill, even offering suggestions to perfect it. It was been one of the brightest moments of my life, and still was, solely due to the fact that after some discussion, the five merely nodded at one another and Zaliek announced to me that I would be the council’s prospector. He even hinted to me of a future job as Chief Prospector of the Kingdom if I succeed in my endeavors, a post granted to me after the completion of the MSC.

I still remembered that moment now. Duron’s hearty laughter, Fimriel giving his oath to ensure that the product would be completed, Mona’s sparkling curiosity in her bright blue eyes, Jubros chugging down a barrel of ale to mark the occasion… and Zaliek’s pleased expression, a genuine smile upon his face as he congratulated me on my appointment, his crimson eyes brimming with mirth.

Even now, I still hoped that the smile was real at the time. I still hope that the Zaliek then was a different dwarf. For at the moment, I would never have thought the lord of Fargund to become what the world sees him as now, or the wondrous yet terrifying plans he concocted with the MSCs.

Excerpt from Grand Prospector of the Dwarven Miner League, Gimmol's interview in The Fourteen Great Evils: The Golemlord

Gilda did not know whether to be irritated, impressed, or just plain up angry at her traveling companion. Ever since she had agreed to guide Lok to the town of Zudost, she had found herself the victim of a constant barrage of questions. Of course, Lok had assured her that he would intrude on her personal matters so long she make it known to him when the subject was brought up but it was still aggravating nonetheless. It was as though he had been locked up for a few thousand years and just came out, but judging from his pattern speech, it appears that that option could be thrown out of the window, figuratively speaking.

"So Equestria had only recently regained their Princess of the Moon?" The yellow griffon pressed in his search for information.

"Yes." Gilda searched the skies for patience, this piece of information was only a months old at least! What sort of cave did Lok lived in? This piece of information apparently caught so many people's attention that it was still circulating since it was broadcasted. Gilda shook her head to rid herself of any of the dizzying thoughts. It was fine, just call him a freak and the headaches will all go away. That had been pretty much the vibe she had received from the other griffon. Well, apart from the one time when Gilda threatened to visit violence upon him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, lass." Lok had said, his red eyes narrowing cruelly. Gilda had backed off then from the wave of malice that the Griffon had then exuded, only for the moment to pass as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving her to wonder if it had merely been a figment of her imagination. She was still wondering about it now, and the longer she gazed at Lok's calm demeanor, the more she became convinced that it was less of her imagination and more that Lok was a unhinged griffon who somehow kept his marbles most of the time.

"You know?" Gilda muttered exasperatedly, her voice just loud enough for Lok's ears, "this are all quite recent news. What kind of Tartarus did you crawl out of to not even know of the biggest event in the last month?"

Lok seemed to seriously contemplated the question, much to Gilda's surprise as she had only meant it as a passing remark, then he smiled and nodded. "There was once a being," Lok announced in a conspiratorial manner, "he had been called forth to be part of a group. An organization who was asked to restore balance to the world. To that manner, this person crafted a plan with his fellows. He had enjoyed his role at first, but after a long, long time, he had grown tired of the endless cycle. Bored with conversing with the gods and kings who wish to undermine him and his fellows. Tired of the thousands of heroes who face him and failed. In the end, his only motivation for staying was to see the scheme come to fruition. And so, when all was done, the being searched for a new home and transformed himself permanently to suit his surroundings." Smiling gently as though it was the best part of his life, the griffon continued. "Then he plunged across the Planes of Existence, leaving his past behind forever for a new beginning."

Gilda stared at the griffon before her. "You're mad." She declared, sounding as though Lok had lost all hope at life.

"Nah," Lok grinned, the smile feeling all the more manic the more Gilda looked at it, "not fully, anyway. Besides, if you'd seen the things I'd seen and did the things I did? You probably won't end up as fortunate and well off as I am, lass."

"The name's Gilda." A tone of warning touching her words.

"Apologies," Lok dipped his head, smiling regretfully as he did, "old habits die hard, it seems."

Only through the fact that he seemed sincere did Gilda feel mollified by his apology. "So," Gilda said, feeling conversational again, "what are you up to in Zudost?"

"An Inn," replied Lok as he casually skimmed around a rock that jutted out of the pathway before resuming his pace, "I need a nice change of pace from all the action, but I also want to be able to do something while I am at it. I think opening an Inn, a small one, would suit me greatly. Going to need to buy a large house though, one big enough to hold at least three tenants."

"You got the money to buy a house?" Gilda asked incredulously, she had expected him to be a traveler, not a person lugging his entire fortune around, which was highly unlike, considering he had only a standard traveling sack on his back of probably the same make as her own, and a satchel that seemed as though it was used to hold a single book. Then again, it was not uncommon for anyone to send their money to the aforementioned town first and complete the transaction. Unless... he was carrying bars of gold and heaps diamond in that sack right now...

"I sense that that was a rhetorical question," Lok looked down the hill upon which they have arrived, "and I believe that that's the town whereupon we wish to settle."

He continued walking down the path, seemingly unaware that Gilda had stopped momentarily in contemplation. Assuming that the latter was true, Gilda thought, then that would mean that he was indeed carrying his life's fortune with him. Enough fortune to buy a house and start an Inn with all the required supplies. Gilda clacked her beak thoughtfully, her desire and greed rose momentarily, asking her to mug him and make away with his belongings. Yet she managed to quell those desires. Lok had done nothing to gain her enmity, and had also proven to be a pleasant, if not eccentric and weird company. Furthermore, he was going to start an Inn, with any luck she could perhaps rent a room for a discount...

Wait a minute, she never told him that she was planning to settle in Zudost... did she?

Thane Drogan was a mighty griffon. In him flows the blood of the General Whitefeather, one of the legendary founders of Griffonia and whose blood were widespread among majority of the Griffons nowadays through their white head feathers and brown fur. However, Drogan was different, he was an albino. His fur was as white as snow and as such, there were many who would look down upon him for not being able to carry the blood of Whitefeather within him.

Yes, would have. For unlike other albinos, or Griffons for that matter, Drogan possessed a trait only a few have. His green eyes had no irises, a mark of one favored among those who carry the blood of Lady Victoria. These are those who would excel at Spellcraft among the Griffons, tried and proven, and it was once said that they were the only ones among all of Griffonkind permitted to practice magic, which was plain ludicrous. Furthermore, it was those with such eyes that would be granted the title of 'Thane' by one of the three Kings of Griffonia. A being with great vision who would lead his people to safety and protection.

Drogan snorted internally at the last description. He did not believe it for a moment more than he believed that Dragons need not feed upon gems. The will to protect, to foresee and to lead lies with the individual, and not if they possess the so called 'pure-eyes'. He had believed that argument weak the day he had learned that there were other Griffons who could practice magic as any of the 'pure-eyes' could. Nevertheless, he was granted the town of Zudost by his King, and he would protect it from any kind of danger.

That was why he always felt the need to interview any personage who wish to move to his town. You never know if a particular rival decided to plant a spy in your town and start messing things up Drogan thought as his eyes skimmed over the form filled in by the second applicant of the day.

"So... Mister Lok?"

"That'll be me, Thane."

The yellow Griffon in front of him, one most definitely of the Desert breed, seemed the decent sort. He had been extremely courteous and completely neutral in his stance on the politics of Griffonia, sometimes even displaying a lack of knowledge in some fields, though that was quite commonplace among citizens of the Griffonia. Of course, that could just mean that he was a good actor but such skills would mean that he was a very expensive one. And Drogan could think of none of his rivals being willing to even spend the coins to hire someone to just mess with a Thane's town on the border of Griffonia.

Furthermore, what disturbed Drogan was how honest Lok had been.

The form says that he was a Griffon from the Eastern Borders of Griffonia who wished to open the first ever Inn in his town, Zudost. He claimed to be an accomplished mage, a Equestrian term for Spellcaster, and was also an accomplished brewer. It did not miss Drogan's attention that two of these vocations were essentially non-existent in his town. Very suspicious.

"It says here that you were once a mage, a mercenary mage, to be precise." Drogan continued, "May I know how far your training had progressed in Spellcasting?"

"Yes, you may." Lok smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Though I must say that the conversation had left my throat rather dry, and I would imagine, yours too."

"I concur," Drogan had been talking for at least two hours now and being thirsty would not help him—where did the two glasses come from? Drogan's eyes narrowed as he beheld the two glasses filled with a purple liquid atop his table. Looking up at the only figure that could be possible of such a feat, a thousand different thoughts raced through the Thane's mind. However, the most prominent one was that he had not sensed any spellwork, or any trace of it, for that matter. He may not be the best spellcaster in the kingdom, but he was no mere magician either. Furthermore, for a Griffon not even possessing the 'Pure-eyes' to be able to outmatch him, suffice to say that Drogan had never met one to exhibit such an ability.

"Have a drink, Thane Drogan." Lok proffered one of the cups, "you would find it most refreshing."

Drogan looked suspiciously at the purple liquid within the cup. "You'll forgive me for my suspicion." He waved a talon across the cup, a green aura permeating it. He was pleased, unsurprised and a mite relieved that he could detect no poison within the drink. It was one of the first spells he had trained to perfection, so if he could not detect any poison, there's no poison.

Lifting the cup up to his beak, Drogan found the drink surprisingly refreshing. What had began as a courteous gesture so as to please the one who offered him the drink soon evolved into a short and quick consumption of the contents of the mug. Clacking his beak in a satisfied manner, Drogan gave his guest an appreciating smile.

"I admit that if that was the quality of your brew," sighed Drogan contentedly, "I'm very tempted to just forgo the interview."

To be defeated by a drink, how pathetic. However, he still had standard procedures to follow. "Unfortunately, you had also just revealed yourself as a spellcaster of great power. I hope you understand that we have some protocols that need to be followed, Mister Lok."

"Understood," Lok waved his hand, and now, Drogan could feel the magic at work as the purple liquid appeared in the cup once again. "Have another cup of The Purple Maiden, Thane Drogan, consider it an introduction to my Inn's sevices."

"I dare say, you may find me at your place more often than not each night," Drogan grinned fiercely, his mind also contemplating the fact that Lok had just brandished magic before him again. However, there was no cause to doubt Lok, though he would have to be watched very closely. "I would say that you would be approved of local residence like Lady Gilda before you. Though we might have a tad more papers to fill out according to the fact that you are a mage and also seeking to purchase a house..."

"Well, I propose we get it done and over with then?"

"Indeed," Drogan stood up and approached a stack of drawers to his right. Sliding them open and closed smoothly, Drogan pulled out the relevant paperwork that the situation requires. By the time he was done, the stack was roughly two thirds his height and Drogan relished the thought of telling the mage before him that he would require the papers to be filled in by hand.

If the twitching eye on Lok's calm features was any indication, Drogan was sure that this would be quite entertaining.

Lok got his revenge, sort of. Flexing his cramped right talon repeatedly to rid it of its numbness, he curse the fact that he could not do anything when the Griffon Thane, Drogan, had purposely pulled out a bunch of redundant forms that 'Standard protocol demands it be filled' , to put it in that Griffon's words. Not to mention that he takes sadistic pleasure in the discomfort of others having to fill in those forms manually for nearly an hour straight.

Well, Lok had unsettled him by merely lovingly asking for the details of those particulars presented and had filled out most of the forms' requisite to very vivid specifications while leaving others detailed but ambiguous in meaning. The Thane's feathers had been ruffled when he found himself obligated to answer each and every single question Lok gave. The yellow griffon have had no doubts that Drogan's feathers would be ruffled further if he ever had to read those forms. Sure, it may not ever happen but Lok would most definitely savor Drogan's reaction when he felt the need for those information.

Oh yes, he shall savor it most sweetly.

Striding out of the Thane's office-cum-home, a quaint two-storey stone cottage that had most definitely seen some tender-loving care, Lok was slightly annoyed to see that Gilda had fallen asleep on a nearby bench, clearly enjoying the shade provided by the shadow of the tree hanging over it. He was half tempted to leave her slouching in the afternoon sun, if he did not have a debt to settle.

"Lass," Lok poked the prone form of Gilda awake, "it is done." The fact that she did not take long to rise brightened Lok's disheartened spirit. At least he did not have to play grandfather to her for ten minutes, the last time he did that as Zaliek the dwarf, he nearly got his beard scorched off by dragonfire.

"So what now?" Gilda prompted, rubbing the sleep off her eyes, "you off to open your Inn?"

"Yes." The thought of finally settling down brightened up Lok's spirit far more than any torture of a hated foe could. Beaming contentedly, Lok continued, "It's a fine place, owner passed away and left the property to the town. All I needed to do was sign some papers." Some is an understatement. "and pay up. Simple."

"Right... So when would it be up?"

Lok blinked in surprise, was she hinting that she needed a place to stay? Perfect! He did not even need to suggest the idea to her! He would still need to offer her a discount, however, to do so otherwise would not let him live out his remaining millennium in relative peace and good conscience. "Probably by evening? I should have everything ready by then."

"Yup, that's good news. I'd need a place to stay the night. What's the fee?"

Right where I want her. Flashing a grin at Gilda, Lok placed his offer. "I'll let you in the first night for free, though I'd don't mind offering you a discount for subsequent stays in exchange for your help today."

"There's more to this, isn't there?" Gilda probed, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Honestly? There were none, but one does not merely stop being a villainous overlord overnight. Shrugging casually, Lok gave her a not-so-reassuring smile. "Well, I only know one person here. I need a tenant or else my Inn would literally only consist of me. Furthermore, I require more information on the land. Need I go on?"

Lok mentally noted the fact that the wariness in Gilda's eyes had faded away as she flexed her wings. "Right, so you got loads of selfish reasons for this, right?"

"Indeed, but I got a debt to settle and you got a place to stay. And I can assure you this deal would benefit both of us greatly."

"Right, the only ones you can trust are those who admit that they want something." Gilda spat distastefully, clawing at the ground as she remembered a certain unpleasant incident involving her only friend just two weeks ago. "Where was this place, anyway?"

"A cozy three storied building," Lok replied, "it'd be a bit rundown so I'll need some time for renovations first. Why don't you run along? I'll go look for you the moment I'm done with it."

"How do I know if you'll come look for me?" Demanded Gilda, her voice with a touch of accusation in it.

"Lass, you're my first customer, remember?"

"My name's... nevermind." Sighed Gilda, apparently dismissing it as a lost cause. "Would you mind telling me the directions to it from here?"

"The Thane said it'll be right down this street," Lok gestured down the main route of the town, "and it'll be at the first right turn. It'll also be the first Inn ever opened in the town, so it'll be hard to miss." Lok ended his sentence with pride, who wouldn't?

"Right." Gilda nodded and began strolling off, calling over her shoulder as she moved. "Just remember our deal!"

"Oh, I will."

It had been two hours since Gilda had left the company of Lok, and she had to say that she felt a sense of relief as she had done so. Of course, it had been raining cats and dogs since, just as the freak predicted... How had he known that this would happen.

Anyway, so here she was, waddling through the rainstorm and it was most definitely not her idea of a first day. However, at least she had managed to secure a job interview with the local delivery service , who happened to be surprisingly understaffed. Only a net total of three griffons were working the rounds each day. Gilda was surprised and pleased at the lack of ponies, who often run their stereotypical pony jobs, but when she had inquired, the griffon told her that as Zudost was a border town, the Griffon to Pony ratio were largely equal. As such, it was mandatory that some Griffons to take over pony jobs, else there would not be enough job spaces around to be filled by ponies alone. The female griffon had also smiled ruefully as she said that while Zudost was probably the only place in Griffonia where ponies would not be discriminated, there was still some troubles from more 'local' elements. Gilda had blinked for awhile before catching on to what she meant. Not that she actually cares.

Well, more job spaces means that so long she played her cards right, she would be able to have a source of income to pay off Lok's supposedly discounted lodging fee.

Turn right here, he said it would be hard to miss. Thought Gilda back to her last conversation with Lok. That usually means that if it was finished, it would be easy to notice. If it was not, then she could easily find the house that was being worked on. She took the right turn and then stood stock-still, her brain almost incapable of comprehending the bizarre sight.

Well, to say that it would hard to find would definitely be an overstatement. Unless one could call a building wreathed in a dark red glow with the words 'Future Inn under Renovation' floating above it not an obvious enough sign. Spying the crowd assembled in front of the house, Gilda shook her head, a gnawing thought tugging at her.

She'd a feeling that she would regret this.

The Innkeeper

When the orders came in, we can only march west. I was merely a captain of a platoon at the time. My second one, recently granted to my command after I lost over half of my men at the previous battle. That battle, we were outnumbered six to one, it was good fortune that kept so many of my people alive.

This next fight... if I know what would happen, I would have resigned then and there. Nothing could compare to the Slaughter at Hildenholde.

We marched west, towards the realm of the dwarves. We marched west, to liberate their lands and gain allies in return. We, The Alliance, marched west to face Zaliek the Nightmare of Furgand, or so he was known at the time.

We had underestimated him. We had thought that the entire Eastern Legion, twenty thousand man could match Zaliek's army. We had believed that he would hold himself up in his mountain keeps, and force us to throw our bodies at their walls in vain. We had faith that we would free the dwarven lands after fifty years or so of his iron fisted rule.

We were so wrong. I had cursed the moment that I laughed in delight when Zaliek pulled his horde out to meet us on human lands. I am so ashamed of that time that I believed that he was a fool.

I was the fool. We were the fools to believed that we could have taken him, with only an army of humans.

We clashed upon the fields of Hildenholde. His fifteen thousands horde of orcs, dwarves, men and those strange mechanical machines against our twenty thousand strong Eastern Legion. It was a hellscape, a madhouse, yet we fought on, knowing that this was his army and once it was smashed, the way to the dwarf realms was as good as ours.

We were not prepared for what happened next. Like divine intervention, the cloudy skies above parted to let down rays of sunlight, as if to place their blessings upon our imminent victory. Then, like shadows of our doom, figures dropped in from that gap.

A whole swarm of the mad Metallic Dragons.

Our general and his personal squad of dragon riders, the peaceful and powerful colored ones rode up to face the new threat, his personal friend, a green dragon by the name of Erakus roaring his anger at his hated cousins above.

They never stood a chance. Swarmed from all sides, the dragons tore them apart. Hell's teeth, I even saw Erakus ripped to shreds by a multitude of his cousins, leaving his friend, our general to plummet to his death on the battleground. It was like the end of the world, the man who was prophesied to never be killed by those who wish him harm, the man we all thought to be invincible, just died from a fall.

That Butcher was a smart one, he must have told them dragons to kill the mount as the man cannot be killed. Leave him to the ground who cannot wish harm onto anyone, heh.

Speaking of his unholiness, that was when I saw him. A dark robed figure, clad in silver armor that shines so brightly in the sun and saddled upon a beautiful yet terrifying three headed dragon of bronze, silver and gold all at once. In one hand, he hold a sword that burns with unnatural orange flames, the other grasped a scepter with a black orb as dark as the night atop it. Most of all, what caught my attention was his eyes. It ain't natural. He was so far away, yet I could see his damned crimson orbs so clearly behind his visor. It ain't natural I tell you.

Then I saw the spell circle above him. It sent shivers down my spine when I noticed it and I knew there was something dangerous at that moment. So I gathered my men and went against regulations, I told them to flee.

I was too late.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him swing the scepter down and going by my gut, I leapt into the nearest trench I can find. That was how I survived, how I survived that hellscape.

From the safety of that hole, I saw the literal air rip thousands of good man and woman apart. Not even his horde had done such damage to us. Yet somehow, he did. The Butcher, with a single spell, slew over half of our army by himself while his horde finished the rest.

I do not want to see something like that ever again. That's why from the bottom of my heart, I hope the Butcher is dead for good this second time in Shadowmane Fort, and I will pray to the gods that he stay dead.

"-and a toast to the proud owner of the newly opened Inn and our generous patron, Lok!" The raven pegasi by the name of Driven Wind concluded his speech, somehow holding onto a mug of ale with a bare hoof to the utmost surprise of the Innkeeper.

Applause sounded around the Bar, or dining room as Lok would put it. It was quite a fascinating speech about unity and harmony, something that surprised Lok too as those were primarily Equestria's beliefs, while he had researched Griffonia to be a bit more on the 'martial' side. Raising his huge mug, as tall as his arm and as wide as his claw, to accept the toast, Lok made a point of downing its contents in a single swig, much to the delight of the crowd.

"And a toast to the fortunes of all of you here." Lok crowed, happily, raising his mug high. Appreciative banter burst out among the crowd and Lok turned towards the barrel on the bar, intent on refilling his mug again.

Lok was satisfied with his progress so far. Despite his lack of knowledge with regards to actually opening an Inn, he had a grasp on the basics. Furthermore, inviting everyone, or almost all of them anyway, was definitely a brilliant plan on his part. This would hence acquaint him with most of the townsfolk, and also start every relationship on a relatively good basis. During his time as a dwarf, he had learned that there was nothing better than booze to start building ties and bonds.

Also, information was always easier to procure once the booze loosen up some tongues. Did anyone know that non "pure-eyed" griffon mages were all of an order called the Purple Claw? Or that they convene with their pony counterparts, The Eye of Insight, once a year? There were two such mages of each order residing in the town now. Mental note, remember to say that I am a rogue mage. He also received quite a bit of information of the political situation too. Zudost was situated between western Griffonia and Equestria, and tensions had been running high between Western Griffonia and its Northern and Eastern counterparts due to the amicable relationship it had with the pony nation. That would explain why the guard number for a border town was so low, they've been redirected to the other borders.

Easy. Lok hummed as he tapped the barrel. Wait? It was this low already? Well, looks like he would need to refill the barrel of ale again. Thank the Traveler that he had several centuries worth of brew stored away in a pocket dimension that took him the better of fifty years to create. Each.

Snapping a finger, Lok felt a slight drain of his magic reserves. It was not enough to cause any physical deficiencies, however, it might affect his ability to hold his liquor. Well, not like it really matters anyway. Unless you count the time where he was so drained of magic that he was left at the mercy of a demigod. Said demigod trapped him in a pillow stuffed full of feathers and used it to sleep upon. Lok shivered slightly as he recalled that particular memory. It was worse than Life's forest of thorn. Those tickling feathers stroking his every— No, stop thinking about it right now. Lok told himself determinedly, he lost part of his sanity that time, he would prefer to keep it without remembering that particular piece of... never mind. Tapping the barrel again, Lok nodded in forced appreciation as the cup was filled with good dwarven ale, with a few personal twists to the ingredients in the mix. Turning the tap, Lok smiled as the frothing liquid filled the container.

"You're a mage."

Lok did not need to turn his head to know it was Gilda, yet he did it out of courtesy anyway. It was rude to not face the person you were talking to. Making a show of sampling the newly refilled ale, Lok turned to face his future tenant.

"Yes, that I am." Lok grinned, "I hope you are enjoying the party?"

"Humph, the party's great." Mumbled Gilda incoherently, only Lok's spell enhanced hearing enabling him to pick up anything. Though he was a tad disappointed at Gilda's reaction to his affirmation. His research had led him to believe that non "pure-eyes" griffon mages were a rarity. "Don't get why you are trying to make a big fuss on the first day though."

"Simple." Lok chuckled, clacking his beak as he did so. He could never get used to that. Really. "I just want to celebrate the opening of my Inn. Besides, if I count you and the mayor, the net total of personage I know here is two. This would be a good start to knowing everyone here."

"Even the ponies?" Gilda whispered, so soft that only Lok's ears could catch up what she was saying, "They're dweebs."

"No, they aren't." Lok corrected, a smile on his face as he did so. Gilda looked to rebuff his statement, but Lok held up a hand and something, just something final about the gesture made Gilda held her tongue. "But I won't pry. Your life is yours to live, your history yours to share. Though if I would offer advice, I would say that you would get along with them nicely."

Gilda snorted aloud as Lok offered his advice before turning away, the air carrying her contempt with her. Lok was not disturbed, or just slightly irritated by the fact that she walked away without refilling her mug. He had just refilled the barrel, by his own old thrice damned and probably cursed name! How rude.

Sipping from the tip of the mug, Lok smiled contentedly before saying aloud to no one in particular. "I bet that I would be hard pressed to find anything that could challenge the taste of this ale for miles."

"No, silly overlord." A pink earth pony mare with a super fluffy mane and tail of matching color admonished him, somehow balancing a large tray of elven treats he had prepared, "if you cross the sea into Equestria and take the train and stop by ponyville and ask for sweet apple acres during cider season you will find the best super duper drink that Equestria would have to offer though your drink is not bad but it is still a little too strong and it just loses out to Applejack's cider by a teensy weensy little bit and you have very nice treats by the way and can I learn how to make them from you?"

The pink pony sucked in a deep breath of air to compensate for the amount she had spent saying what she did as Lok ran over her words in his mind in slow motion. Satisfied that he understood the mare, he grinned, "Sure, I'll make sure to go and sample some of those fabled cider. Also, I don't mind teaching you how to make those treats, Miss?"

"Pinkie Pie. My friends call me Pinkie!" The mare bounced up and down, somehow balancing those treats in... Mid air?! "Here's my address card, I hope to see you soon!" She pulled out a pink slip of paper from thin air (How did she do that?) and handled it to the slightly less calm and quite disturbed Lok. "Okey dokey lokey! I'll see you! Take your time, just come when you're free!"

Lok dumbly nodded as he took in the contents of the slip of paper. It read:

Pinkemena Diane Pie/ Pinkie Pie!
Ponyville
Sugar Sweets Corner

Wait, something's wrong. Lok realized. Frowning, he tried to pinpoint the source of his unease before realizing that he had never seen that pink pony before. Not in his research, nor in his scrying of the town, nor even in his arrival in it. Looking up, he realized with a jolt that the subject in question had disappeared. Perhaps he should find her and clarify? Focusing, his mind's eye did a quick sweep of the area.

Nothing showed up.

Had he been drinking too much? Lok looked down upon the piece of paper, it was real enough to show that he was not hallucinating. A quick mental check showed that he was definitely not drunk either.

So who was that pink pony? And what had he got himself into?

Lok broke out in cold sweat as he tried to contemplate the answers to that question. He realized morbidly that he seemed to have been doing that a lot today.

"What." He choked out.

Gilda was peeved. Really, really, really peeved. How can Griffons coexist in harmony with ponies, of all things. Birds of the same feather flock together, so Griffons should stick with Griffons, ponies with ponies! Mingling would only end up in trouble, Gilda clacked her beak n frustration as she remembered her little tirade in the Ponyville. She ran murderous thoughts about those ponies that dared make fun of her in her mind, only to shiver slightly as a chill ran up her spine.

Spinning around, Gilda scanned the guests for the one that caused to feel so, before freezing at the sight of a very familiar pair of light blue eyes gazing at her from the shadow in a corner. Rubbing her eyes slightly, she gazed at it again, only this time, the corner was empty. Great, now I'm paranoid. Gilda muttered, irritated by herself.

Helping herself to some unknown but really good treats (do they make these in Eastern Griffonia?), Gilda munched appreciatively , feeling content for once that she should be able to relax.

If not for the fact that there was a pegasi mare that immediately walked up to her, a glass of ale in her hooves.

"Hey!"

Gilda ignored the bubbly looking green pegasi and focused on the tray of cookies before her.

"Hey!"

"Hey." Gilda echoed dryly. She was clearly uninterested in conversations, so get the hint already! She focused her death glare at the pony, trying to intimidate her into retreat. However, the pony was either used to such death glares or just a more pathetic dweeb than the rest of the ponies that could not understand that a Griffon did not want to mingle with them.

"You are Gilda, right?" The pegasi asked, smiling as she did so. Gilda felt a rush of irritation as the mare failed to understand her antics of one that does not wish to be disturbed. "I'm Ellie Feathers, the local bookstore owner. How do you find our town?"

"Good." Gilda grunted, her patience wearing thin already.

"That is nice. Have you found a place to stay already?" Ellie giggled, the act lighting the fuse to the Gilda patience meter.

"Yeah, Lok offered me a room at a discount."

"Really? I thought you and him are together?"

"Lok is a freak." Gilda snapped, irritated that anyone here would associate or much less imply that they were coupled or related in any other way. "A good freak, though." Gilda conceded after some thought.

"Oh, so where is he?"

"Can't you find him yourself? What are you, blind?" Gilda flexed her claws, she could feel the itch for some violence already. So this mare either see that she was in no mood, or get ready for some...

"Yes."

Gilda's thought process came to a screeching stop. Blind? What? Now that she looked at the pegasi closely, She noticed that her eyes were slightly milky, and one was slightly crossed. Oh, by the Eight Great Thanes... She just... How can she...?

"It's alright," Ellie smiled serenely, "I still can cope." Turning around, Ellie walked away, apparently searching for Gilda's landlord. Gilda, on the other claw, did not even help. How could she? Her body could not move as she contemplated what she did, and if she could ever forgive herself for that.

She could only gaze upon the back of the blind, stumbling mare.

Lok was fumbling around his thirty or so odd attempt to locate that bubble gum pink mare when he heard someone call his name. Turning around, he took in the green pegasi standing before, especially her milky white eyes. Those caught his attention, or particularly, one of those caught his attention. Not the one that was staring off to the side, but the one that was fixed upon him, as though it could do what it could not.

"You don't have to stare so much." The mare giggled, the sound so light and infectious that Lok gave in to the chuckle or two that bubbled to the top of his vocal chords.

"You're not distrubed?" Lok inquired once he got that fit under control.

"Before everyone here knows that I'm blind, I'm kinda used to the odd stares now and then."

"Blind? Pfffft." Lok snorted incredulously, "yeah right."

"But I am blind." the mare protested, frowning slightly.

"Your eyes are blind." Lok corrected, "you are not. There are more than one way to see. Even if you lose your sight, miss...?"

""Ellie Feathers." The pegasi introduced herself. There was a slight awkward pause before she added, "you're a kind griffon, Lok."

Lok flinched, a small one but it stunned him nonetheless. The pegasi likely felt it as well, as she took a step back, afraid that she had offended the host.

"I'm sorry...." Ellie began, her eyes downcast.

Confusion filled Lok, why was the Pegasi apologizing? Then, like a thunderbolt out of the blue, it hit him. Some Griffons take offense to being called kind or cute, but Lok was not one of those. He was stunned by the fact that he had been praised, something that he had experienced only rarely for centuries. It would really take some getting use to. She must have mistaken his silence for displeasure.

Well, he cannot let her know that he was not used to being praised, could he? It would make him appear weak, and even though it seemed that ruling had rubbed off on him, Lok does not like appearing weak.

"There was nothing to apologize for," Lok replied, his mind racing to find a suitable excuse for his sudden misunderstood behavior. Well, he had one, but that would create a bit too much hassle in the log run, could he find another? Nope. Looks like he would have to use that. "The way you say that I was kind reminded me of a friend I once had." It was true, but the problems with phrasing it so would lead to the problems listed below.

One, she would likely inquire him about his history, one that he do not feel ready to share. Two, she may receive the wrong impression, thinking that he was trying to make a pass at her but that would be a far fetched, if he had her figured out. Still a possibility, nevertheless. Three, that line sounded way too cheesy. Even cheesier than the speeches he had provided for any heroes that had tried to remove his head.

"I see." Or.... he could just be overthinking things.

"Once? What happened to her?"

Or not. Lok smiled grimly, silently glad that his perception skills were still as sharp as ever, before he replied. "She was a powerful sorcerer. One who learned the arts alongside me. However, one day, she met with an army protecting someone who she could not let live. So she rushed in and all that was left of her was within our memories."

"You make it sound as if you are older than you look." The pegasus muttered, suspicion tinting her words, "and I get the feeling that you are telling the truth too."

Lok was impressed by the perceptiveness of the blind mare. To be able to read so deeply into him. Not even Drogan, a supposedly powerful individual of the arcane arts of this world was able to tell that much from a more detailed and slightly twisted version of Lok's history.

"Well," Lok conceded, suddenly in a playful mood. "That was for me to know and you to find out. Besides, I believe you have a bit more questions for me to answer?"

"Um... If it would not bother you too much?"

"Splendid," Lok clapped his claws together. Then he realised something had been missing from this party the whole time. How could he have forgotten?

"How about some pie first?"