The Griffon on the High Hill

10:20 AM.

A large crowd of soldiers has assembled in the courtyard of the government district. Rows and rows of soldiers, young and old, militia and veterans alike stood at attention as they heard the roaring of cars. He was there, he had come, at long last.

Sitting in the back of an open top car, Highhill proudly waved at his brave soldiers. A loud chorus of cheers broke loose as the Field Marshal’s car passed by on its way to the steps of the Parliament. It was a moment of triumph, for Highhill and his troops, both.

Erwin’s car and his two escorting vehicles stopped in front of the house of Parliament. Erwin stepped outside and once again waved at the crowd.

“We’re pleased to welcome you, Sir.” Erwin turned around to face his good friend, General Astreus Forestfeather.

Astreus and Erwin had first met in military academy and become good friends ever since. When the situation in Nova Griffonia changed for the worse, both were quick to accuse Teafether. They had noticed few riots and violence in their hometowns, but quickly found out the reality of the crisis when they first visited Weter five years ago. Violent, brutal clashes between left and right extremists made some streets a killing zone. Shootouts happened on a daily basis and the local law enforcement had to call for military assistance to try and combat such groups. Yet even then, they noticed, the military was not unharmed by the situation. Many soldiers were starving and began plundering shops and homes for food, holding anyone at gunpoint who tried resisting them. It was chaos. Chaos which never should have happened. But it did happen, and Arseus and Erwin both made it their mission to correct and undo what Teafether had caused. And now, they were so very close to achieving their goal.

“Please, Astreus, don’t call me Sir,” Erwin replied with a chuckle. The two friends briefly patted each other on the back.

“As you wish, Erwin. Come, we still have much to do.” Astreus, quite visibly younger than the about 70 year old Erwin, lead him into the house of Parliament.

When entering the Hall of the High Council, Erwin froze momentarily as he spotted twelve griffons kneeling on the floor, blindfolded with their claws tied together. He knew who they were, those poor souls. They were part of the High Council, originally serving under Governor Teafether as a part of his government. With his death, however, they refused to hold new elections, and instead insisted on forming a temporary government, lead by those which Teafether had favoured. While the Council attempted to mediate and negotiate with many other parties to gain their support, it ultimately failed to do so.
And now, at last, Erwin had twelve of the fifteen delegates at his mercy. Oh, how much he hated them and their government. This cursed attempt at ‘democracy’. Griffons don’t require democracy, he thought. Griffons need a leader. An absolute and strong leader!

He stepped forward. A guard hit one of their captives with the butt of their gun. A small, brief smile formed on Erwin’s face as he looked down to the helpless delegates.

“Time to put these poor souls where they belong,” he mumbled to himself, turning back towards Astreus. “Is everything ready?”

“Of course.” With nothing more but the snap of a claw, two soldiers entered the room. One brought with him a telephone, the other a small piece of paper, on which a text was written. “We have established a connection to the remaining delegates, already. They’re not far from here.”

Highhill nodded silently as he took the paper from the soldier. It was a short ultimatum which Astreus had put together before his arrival. Some of the ink was still wet, he noticed. His friend watched him as he skimmed over the text.

“Right,” he said, grabbing the telephone receiver, “let’s go.”

There was a brief silence. Astreus gulped quietly, afraid that the line might have been cut or that the delegates were not willing to talk. Then, however, Erwin spoke up, at last.

“This is Field Marshall Erwin Highhil.” There was a brief silence. “Yes, that one. I am calling you from the House of Parliament, the Hall of the High Council, to be precise.”

Another moment of silence, longer this time. “I’m afraid you’re not quite in the position to be giving any orders right now. I have twelve of you in here with me, and I would love if we could end all this without unnecessary bloodshed.”

Another moment of silence. “Excuse me for a moment.” Highhill lowered the receiver and grabbed the revolver of the soldier that was holding the telephone. Two seconds later a loud bang echoed through the room, and one of the delegates dropped to the ground. “So, what were you saying?” Erwin said with a vicious smile on his face, still holding the revolver in his other claw.

“What my terms are?” he asked the speaker on the phone. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I want. I know your messengers have told you that quite clearly already.”

“Look, there’s two ways to solve this problem. You either surrender and save these innocent nobles here, or you make it difficult and... well, I’m sure you can imagine what that means.”

Erwin laughed briefly. “How about I make you a different proposal. You have three minutes to call me back and if you do not call back in time or refuse to accept my terms, your ‘friends’ will die.” Once again, he laughed at whatever the speaker said to him. “You shouldn’t waste your time, I’d say. Three minutes!” Erwin said before ending the call.

“So?” Astreus asked with a shrug.

“Three minutes,” Highhill replied. “Three minutes.”

Fifteen minutes later. Soldiers and civilians alike grouped up near any available radio to hear the incoming transmission. It was Erwin speaking.

“Today, a new era has begun for our nation! I speak to you here today to tell you that the old system and its corrupt, incompetent ways have been destroyed and abolished. I have taken the necessary steps to save our nation from the plague that was democracy, and I shall continue to take such steps in the future. Under my leadership, you can be assured that our home, our Nova Griffonia, will be its own master. We shall be a strong, sovereign nation.
Our nation has suffered strongly under the rulership of Teafether and his vassals, but that ends now! I can now finally assure you, democracy is dead! No more will it corrupt and hurt our nation. No more will it hinder us from true greatness, greatness which Griffon kind is destined for!
So I say to you all, brave and loyal citizens: Stand up! Look forward and see the bright future that awaits us! To glory, I say! To glory!”