The Buried Past

Griffonstone
Strangers and the lost Idol of Boreas

The sun was glaring through a hole in the roof as a rather annoyed griffon woke to an empty, decaying home. The sight didn’t bother her as much as it used to, months previous. She stretched, loosening her sore joints with several melodious crackles and pops. It appeared to be near noon, judging by the sun’s position through the hole in her roof that she constantly forgot to patch. Not that she had anything to patch it with.

Most days she wondered why she bothered to get out of bed at all; there was nothing to do here, no one to talk to other than the elders’ spastic rants about the “good ol’ days”. She looks back at herself in her cracked mirror. She dug the sleep out of her eyes, washed her face with a pail of water that she filled the night before, and smiled as best as she could. She scoffed and went back to her room to throw on whatever she could find that was clean; the water shortage had made even a clean shirt hard to come by. She settled on a white sleeveless tee, a pair of high waist dukes, and her last pair of clean socks.

She didn’t bother to eat. Her pantry was cleared out after last night. Maybe she could swipe some food from Darien. Well, not while wearing this; she looked like a reject mime at the moment, and the dukes are starting to feel a bit tight around her thighs. “Screw it…” she sighed.

~^*^~

Heat and regret were the name of the day. It was dry and sweltering. One would think being at the top of a mountain would grant chilly weather, or tepid weather. She could feel the sweat stain forming on her back just from walking around. At least the village folk were cheery today. She only got told to go jump in the gorge twice.

“Hey, Darien!”

The Gryphon turned sharply and stopped. He leaned on his cart, breathing hard as Gilda flew over to him.

“Hey.”

“H-Hey…” he panted.

“You got anything good today?”

“Depends… you got any bits?”

Gilda rolled her eyes and fished two out of her bra.

“Ew, they’re all warm,” Darien whined.

“I can take them back.”

“NO! These bits are mine now!”

Gilda coughed impatiently. “My food?”

He hastily put the bits in his side pouch and pulled out a couple of chicken legs. He placed them on a stone slab and handed it to her.

“Hey! I was able to get four of these with two bits just the other day!”

“Economics, dummy! Decreased supply, increased demand.”

“What are you talking about?

“Well, you dodo. That means that since I have no supplies, I demand more!”

Gilda slammed her hands on his cart. “The hell does that have to do with you ripping me off?”

“I can take it back if you don’t want it.”

“Well, give me my bits back!”

“No!” He clutched his pouch. “My bits.”

Gilda’s stomach growled fiercely. “Fine… give me the chicken…”

He handed her the slab. Gilda took it and looked down at the half cooked and obviously bland meat. Darien heaved and huffed, and moved on with his cart. Gilda understood why she got the short end of the stick, but still, you can’t just change up on folk like that. At least she has something to fill her up for all of three hours. She sat under the statute and leaned against its base. She took a bite out of the meat that was, for her stomach’s sake, described as tough, tasteless, and slightly raw. She would compare it to biting on an actual chicken’s leg. It was better than nothing.

She sighed and looked up to the cloudless sky while taking another bite. “Eugh…” She then looked back to her dilapidated village. Most of the denizens either sat in front of their crumbling homes or wandering around aimlessly in search of something better… or whatever shiny thing they could find in the dirt. As she looked around she noticed two unfamiliar gryphons coming up the trail leading into the village. The taller of the two was some guy who looked kind of dopey, and the shorter one looked stuck up and annoyed. They started talking to each other, then they approached Elder Jordan. She didn’t know what was said, but he yelled at them and hobbled away. She took another bite. Then, they ran into Gabbie. She thought about what that bundle of energy was telling those strangers.

“Hi! I’m Gabby! Welcome to Griffonstone!” she thought. “I met the Cutie Mark Crusaders! They’re, like, my best friends now!”

She chuckled and took another bite, cursing Darien as she did so. The pair moved on from Gabbie and made their way to the center of the village where she sat under the statue of king Grover.

“Hey, check it out,” the guy spoke. The girl looked up at the statue.

“Wot, it’s jus a old bust of Grover.”

“Exactly! This has got to be the place.”

Gilda wondered what the two were on about, but was too busy muscling through her ‘meal’ to put any more energy into it.

“Ehh, I dunno. This don’t seem like th’ kinda place it’d be.”

“It’s usually where you least expect it, trust me.” He looked down at Gilda who tried her best to act like she wasn’t eavesdropping. “Hey there,” he beamed.

“Hi?”

“Have you heard about the Idol of Borea- ow!”

The girl slapped him in the back of the head. “Oi ya dolt! Are ya gonna tell th’ whole damn village about our business!”

“I wasn’t going to ask if she’s seen it!”

“I don’t care. Ya don’t go around askin’ stuff that folk ain’t supposed ta know about!”

He rubbed the back of his head and grumbled. Gilda looked at them scared and very much confused.

The girl restarted the conversation, “Anyways, this bonehead-” he elbowed her. She gave him a glare and cleared her throat. “Okay, we weren’t s'posed ta ask ya straight up, but do ya know anythin’ about th’ Idol of Boreas?”

“Why? Are you two looking for it?”

“Yeah, we’re travelers ‘nd thought maybe ya had it on display somewhere,” the girl said in a tone so thick with sarcasm, Gilda wondered how she didn’t choke on it.

Gilda quirked a brow and looked the two up and down. They both wore at least two holsters and utility belts. She didn’t see any guns, but that didn’t mean they weren’t present. “You two don’t look like any ‘travelers’ I’ve seen.”

“Well, we often run into trouble. It has a way of findin’ us.”

“Hmph.” she took the last bit of meat off the first leg. “Well, you’re out of luck.”

“Oh?” the guy asked.

“The Idol’s gone.”

“Whaddya mean, ‘gone’?” the girl chimed in.

“Gone as in gone, genius. You can’t get to it.”

“So it is here?” the guy nearly screamed.

“Didn’t you hear me, dofus? You can’t reach it.”

The girl glared at Gilda. “Oi! Don’t call him a dofus!”

“It isn’t my fault that ‘meathead’ over here is hard of hearing.”

The girl unfolded her arms and sized up Gilda. “Keep talkin’ and I’ll make ya hard of breathin’.”

Gilda stood and looked her dead in the eye. “You wanna go?” Neither of them flinched during this game of chicken. Gilda tried to back her down, but she couldn’t find any ground. Her blood red eyes peered into her dismantling her resolve.

“Okay ladies. Put your claws away.” The guy stepped in and separated them, and not a moment too soon. “Maggie, can you apologize to…”

“Gilda,” she growled.

“Piss off…”

“Maggie, come on. She know’s where the Idol is.”

Maggie crossed her arms again and looked up at him. She tried to keep a straight face, but she looked away and grumbled. “I’m sorry yer a musty-”

“Maggie…” the guy said in a fatherly tone.

She sighed and looked at Gilda with her straightest face. “I apologize for almost landin’ ya flat on yer arse.”

The guy sighed and shook his head. “That’s about all you’re going to get out of her… sorry.”

Gilda peered around him. Maggie had her unrelenting gaze set upon her.

“Let’s start over.” He held out his hand. “I’m Clifford, but everyone calls me Cliff. And the lovely lady you see shyly hiding behin- ouch, Maggie!” He winced and rubbed his kidney, then resumed, “-hiding behind me is my sister, Ma- ow! Stop hitting me!”

“She don’t need ta know my name.”

“Right, well. You said something about a gorge?” Cliff asked, still rubbing his side.

“It’s about a mile outside of town. You’d be blind if you miss it.”

“Thank you. Come on, sis.” Cliff started off but Maggie took hold of his tail.

“Hold it! It took us two days of hikin’ through weather hot enough to melt lead to get here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“Come on. A mile isn’t that long!”

“No, Cliff.”

“We can fly there,” he pleaded.

“No. I’m tired, I’m starvin’, and I need a bath.”

“Fine…” Cliff pouted. He turned to Gilda. “Do you have an inn or a house for rent or something?”

Gilda pointed to a tall hut. “Trudy rents rooms, but she’s a little finicky about it.”

“Finicky?”

“Don’t care. C’mon Cliff.” Maggie started towards the hutt.

“Well, thanks Gilda. I’ll see you around.” Cliff followed behind his sister leaving Gilda confused, intrigued, and scared. She sat back against the statue and reached for her second leg of chicken not sure of what to make of that encounter. She cursed as she realized that the leg was missing.

~^*^~

Gilda sat on her roof watching the sun dip lower in the sky. During this time of day the temp wasn’t unbearable; not hot or cold. Unfortunately it lasted barely an hour before the night chill crept in. She recounted her day. Not much different happened other than she was nearly attacked by some random bitch, and she probably took her food. She rubbed her growling belly praying that her and that bitch crossed paths again. Then, she wondered if those two ran into any trouble. Trudy wasn’t a fighter, but Gilda wouldn’t risk a spat with her. Knowing that bitch she probably got loud and had her eye gouged out. She chuckled at the thought of her running away clutching her eye socket then immediately realized that she may have a few problems.

She sighed and looked to the setting sun. “Tomorrow will be the same,” she told herself as the sky turned a warm orange. Same old house, same old village, same old “Aaaah!” she cried. She found herself in her bathroom amidst a pile of gravel. “Well, a new hole is still something new…” she groaned. She limped out and headed back outside. That was when she caught a whiff of burning grass. She sniffed the air before finding a narrow stream of smoke rising near the gorge. She thought not to investigate. Even if it were a wildfire there was nothing that she could do. They were in the height of the dry season, and she barely had enough water to bathe. She decided to put it off claiming that a fire just might liven things up around here. Yet, there was something nagging her to at least take a look. She stretched her wings took to the dry air.

It only took a few moments for her to pinpoint the fire. It didn’t seem to have been caused by anything natural. She flew lower, but was still not to make out who lit the flame. As she drew nearer she spotted two tents adorning the fire. She landed in the nearby grass and approached the camp. The familiar offenders sat near the fire, cooking an assortment of small animals. “Sup.”

The girl jumped and turned to Gilda with a furious glare and a knife in hand. “Do ya fuckin’ mind!”

“What’s up with the fire?”

She nearly lunged at Gilda,, but the guy grabbed her arm. “Calm down.” He looked to Gilda. “You’re that girl we met earlier, right? What brings you out here?”

“The better question is what are you two doing here. Was Trudy too much for you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” the girl scoffed.

“The desk lady was being a bit-”

“Finicky?” Gilda answered.

“Yeah…” He motioned to their camp. “And now we’re here.”

“There, now she knows just about everything. D’ya wanna finish telling her all our private information or’d you like to bend over and moan them out to the world while she dryfucks us?” Maggie turned her back and sat down.

Cliff looked in between Maggie Gilda. “Wow… uh…”

“She’s a bit mouthy.”

Maggie gave Gilda the finger.

“I am so sorry. She’s usually not like this,” Cliff assured. “It’s been a long day.”

“Right…” Then Gilda’s stomach howled with hunger.

Cliff took notice. “I can make it up to you if you’d like a bite to eat.”

“Wot!” Maggie gasped.

Gilda was going to reject, but she was running off one bland leg of chicken. Maybe food from strangers wouldn’t be so bad. “Yeah, sure..” Gilda approached the fire and sat to Cliff’s right, avoiding Maggie as much as possible. She wondered how someone like him ended up with her. Cliff handed her a stick with a smoking hare on it. “Thanks.” She took a small bite.

“How is it?” Cliff asked.

“Not bad.”

“Hmph…” Maggie scoffed.

“What’s up with her?” Gilda asked, taking a much bigger chunk from the starched rodent.

Maggie gave Cliff a look and he shrugged then took a bite from his animal.

“So, about the idol,” She chewed loudly. “Why do you want it? Isn’t it, like, cursed or something?”

Cliff looked at Maggie then back to Gilda. “Well I-” Maggie was about to punch him again but Cliff countered it and pushed her over. “I found out about the Idol after I found an old painting of it showing King Grover running from some one eyed monster thing.”

“The Arimaspi, Cliff,” Maggie corrected, “‘nd they weren’t ‘One eyed monster things’. They used ta war with ancient Griffins for access ta mines ‘nd gold.”

“What she said.”

“I remember seeing a skeleton down in the abyss,” Gilda muttered, thinking back to how close she was to grabbing the idol.

“What?” Cliff asked.

“Nothing… so, how do you plan on getting it?”

“That’s none of ya business…” Maggie growled.

Gilda took another bite, spitting out bones. “Then, I guess you don’t need my help.”

Maggie cocked a brow.

“I know where it is, well. I almost had it.”

“Wot are ya on about?”

Gilda sighed. “Eh, you know what? It’s none of your business.” She stood and started to walk off. “Catch you guys later.”

“Maggie!”

“Wot?”

“She could have helped us.”

“We don’t know that, She coulda been scammin’ us.”

“It didn’t seem like she had a motive.”

“Again, we don’t know that.”

Cliff looked to the area where she disappeared.

Maggie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Look, if ya wanna ask for her services, go right ahead.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, but if she decides to help, you two are going to have to get along.

“I’ll tolerate ‘er. Nothin’ more.”

“I guess I can live with that.” He ran after Gilda. “Hey, Gilda!” He dashed through the grass finding her standing at the edge of a chasm so dark that it could cast a shadow on the blackest void.

“Is this the hole you were talking about?” Cliff asked, barely able to make out the edge.

“Yep.”

“And you know how to get down there?”

Gilda shrugged. “More or less.”

“Can I get a yes? A no?”

Gilda rolled her eyes. “Yes, I can help.”

“Okay. How many bits do you want?”

“I don’t want any money.”

Cliff was shocked by this. “Are you sure? I don’t need to give you anything.”

“Not unless you want to.”

He tapped his beak pensively. “Okay,” he held out his hand, “welcome aboard.”

Gilda shook his hand, squirming under his vice like grip.

“Ow…”

“So… how are we gonna get down there? I was thinking we could fly.”

Gilda flexed the hand that Cliff nearly crushed. “Hm, I wonder why no one else thought of that?”

“Good question… I’ve always wanted to dive into a literal portal to hell.” He looked down into the abyss. “So, what’s stopping me from jumping on down there?”

Gilda snorted with a chuckle.. “The wind howling through there is too strong. You’ll become a red stain on the walls if you aren’t careful.”

“Lovely…”

“Oi!” Maggie approached them while holding a torch. “Are the two ‘f ya’ done makin’ out.”

Gilda glanced at Cliff. “Ew…”

“Eh? What’s wrong with my bro?”

“It’s okay Maggie. Gilda and I were just talking about how we’re going to get down there.” Cliff pointed to the gorge. Maggie approached it and tried to shine her torch in but the wind snuffed it out.

“A bit blustery, eh?”

“Yep, so flying is out of the question.” Gilda crossed her arms. “You got any climbing gear?”

“Yeah, but we only have two harnesses.”

“That’s cool. I know where I can get one… shit…”

“What?”

Gilda pinched the bridge of her beak. “She’s ‘finicky’ too.”

Maggie craned her neck back. “Oh, sonuva whore!”