Bannhammer

Maximilian was about ready to cut short his merrymaking and head to bed. He adjusted his tux and looked around at the happy ponies before turning to head back to his house. He came face to face with two ponies, who had just asked him, with very distinct accents, whether or not he had room for two more. Their accent was definitely not Appleoosan, and the Rockefilly took a moment to look the pair of them up and down. He couldn't get much detail from them simply by looking, so he smiled and answered them.

"Well, This party has more than enough room for anypony willing to have a good time!"

The rich unicorn adjusted his tux again and looked between the pair of them. "I must say I've yet to see you two around here..."

He extended a hoof and smiled even wider. "Maximilian Rockefilly Jr, pleased to meet you! And you are?"

Old habits die hard, and Max found himself just a tiny bit suspicious of the gruff looking ponies, hopefully he could simply put that behind him and have a nice time.

I am Maximilian, and I approve this message. RoyalDice had been keeping me up to date with this app, unfortunately I waited until now to post here! XD

I am totally ok with this

Maximilian snorted and shook his head. Of course Brazil-Nut would say such things. He hadn't really thought Brazil was capable of acting civilized, but Max had at least assumed he would show at least a bit of tact. Most of the explorer's words fell on deaf ears, as the Rockefilly tried his hardest to continue listening. Brazil once again used the phrase 'stuck up', and that was something that really got to Maximilian. The last few months of his life were devoted to clearing his name, and trying to to more for the common pony, but would Brazil care about that? No. He's too busy with his muzzle in the dirt looking for baubles and trinkets.

"Brazil, while I'd love to stand here and tell you all about my choice of interior decorations, I simply don't have the time to explain it all to you. Needless to say, sir, that a portrait of myself would be the last thing hanging anywhere in my house. Why I want this painting is simple, in the very intricate world of economics and business, impressions are vital. This piece, being well publicized, will no doubt help me immensely when it comes to getting things done. You have no idea how much these... things mean to some ponies. Besides, if owning this will make getting my work done faster, by all means, I'll buy it."

Max was fed up with Brazil's attitude, and he had no intention of being pushed around any longer. The intrepid earth pony had the audacity to continue insulting him, and with a grin on his face the whole time. This wasn't some matter of honor, or something trivial like that, this was a matter of making sure that Brazil knew exactly who he was dealing with, and how this was going to play out.

"And..." Having expressed the important point, Max stepped a bit closer to the other stallion. It really hurt Max to be insulted like that, after all he'd been doing, and he was certain that Brazil was up to his old ways, simply trying to hurt Max with his words. It was effective at school, Brazil's so-called 'harmless teasing' proved to be anything but, and Maximilian was sure not to fall into that old rut again.

"Mister Brazil Nut. I did NOT move out to Appleoosa, begin funding the LARGEST industrial project in Equestrian history, devote 40% of my income to charity, and create the FIRST low-rent housing in Manehattan all for some pretentious, foalish, ignorant, reckless, and absolutely UNBEARABLE stallion to insult me to my face..."

"Both of us have been up to a lot since our days at school, Brazil. I suggest, for once in your life, that you pick up a newspaper and read about what's going on in the world NOW, take your muzzle out of the history books and pay attention, if you can."

Max advanced on Brazil, frowning. He didn't mind getting a bit off topic, especially if it meant confronting a pony from his past. "That was always your problem, Brazil. You were too busy looking back to keep up with the rest of us. History is fine and dandy, but devoting your life to it?!"

"You call me vain, and arrogant, and that may in fact be true. But come now, don't act all high and mighty when the only thing you ever do for others is dig up pieces of trash and call it a day!"

The Rockefilly adjusted his tux and looked at Brazil once more. "Besides, I don't really need your permission to buy the painting, do I? I don't think you own the thing, you're just the lackey who dug it up. If you want, i can throw some bits your way for your troubles."

OMGZORS I TOTES LOVE THIS CHARACTER

*GLOMP*

----------------

Now to be serious, this post is pretty dang funky, in a good way, like fun-keh.

This post has more Soul than south Korea.

This post that i am making right now is not shaped by the fact that I already knew you.

NOW TO BE REALLY SERIOUS'

I think that this has a lot of potential, and I can't wait to see how it turns out.

Yay!

Great to see you here, and I hope you love it here as much as i do!

I see that Tales has set you up to do nicely here, and I hope you decide to stick around!

Martel Von Starkhuf trudged along the small path, battered by rain and limping heavily as his usually trusty leg brace strained and squeaked under the effort. He had just finished his last contract, and while the job itself was a milk run, he found himself running into a few problems afterwards.

His brace, the thing that allowed him to walk, had been damaged, and now even simple waking was strenuous. He had to do all the work with his front legs, barely able to move his rump. Martel snorted and pushed on, knowing that he couldn't give up.

As a foal with a stunted leg, he was unable to walk, or even stand, for long periods of time. Martel had to build himself a brace for his leg out of steel springs, sponges, and a steel block. It had served him well, but it, and he, was on its last legs.

Of course, I had to take a risk... I just had to be taking another job.

His pelt was matted and his burgundy mane stuck to his head and face and he took a moment to catch his breath. Martel's long and thin tail dragged behind him on the ground as he stood in place. He closed his eyes and reminded himself why he was doing this, and that he really couldn't turn back. So now, with no other options, he climbed up the rocky path that lead to a secluded lighthouse. Hoping to find the pony that would be able to fix his brace.

Some of his friends and contacts heard about his problem, and they were quick to give him a list of names. Each name was well known, and qualified, but his eyes fell on the last name on the list and he decided then and there where to go. Whoever Rivet was, they had better be worth it

Martel needed the help, he had a new contract starting soon, and he couldn't serve on an airship with a bad leg. Hopefully he had found the right pony.

Why did I have to be picking the one in the middle of nowhere?

The path grew steeper, and the large, dark purple stallion grunted as he literally dragged his lower body up closer to his destination. Every now and then he would lose his grip and stumble, but he willed himself onward.

Eventually, soaked and out of breath, he found himself at the entrance to the light house. Martel raised a large hoof and brought it down on the large door, hoping to be loud enough to be heard over the storm. When the door finally opened, the large, soaked, frustrated, pained, and overall imposing stallion growled, "Is this Rivet's place?"

Maximilian scoffed and rolled his eyes, obviously not a huge fan of the excuse presented to him. It was just art, it wasn't like these pieces were actually worth the millions that Max was willing to pay for them. However, as much as he didn't want to admit it, the adventurer had a point, such pieces should at least have some time to be seen before being carted away to his own private estate. It would allow the regular ponies to see them, and then, once they were moved, it would drive their price up a little bit after being in the public's eyes, which was useful if he ever wanted to sell them off.

The rich Stallion sighed and looked closely at his old foe from school, the regular trouble maker who would rather get suspended than simply listen to authority. Max knew the importance of making friends and influencing ponies, but it seemed that this Stallion had never really learned much in school, especially how to make use of your life. Max did respect Brazil for being his own pony, but there comes a point where you have to get used to the world and fall in line.

Putting his frustration aside, Max blinked a few times and raised a hoof in an attempt to come across as friendly.

"How about a deal? I buy the piece, but it stays here as long as you want, just so long as I can claim it eventually. Surely that would work, especially if I double the offer..."

Max tried to look disinterested, but he was genuinely anxious about getting this piece. Everypony had a piece of art in the home, and it was a way of getting respect, and more importantly, influence. If he could get his hooves on this piece, it could actually prove useful for his future endeavors.

" So I hear somepony's after some art and needed assistance! What, The mirror not doing it for you anymore, eh maxxy? "

Of course, OF COURSE it had to be Brazil nut.

They were familiar, too familiar, and the painful days at private school only made him want to get out of there right now and ditch the painting. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.

I wasn't the nicest pony back then... maybe I was judging him too harshly back then?

That smirk that Brazil carried was as annoying as ever, but Max forced himself to look past it. He didn't try so hard to change only to have it undone by an enemy from his school days. With a slight adjustment of his tux the Rockefilly looked at Brazil, honestly trying to smile.

"Well Brazil, even my good looks can get a bit old, as you can plainly see." Maximilian still wasn't exactly sure how to perform 'banter' and he could only hope that his joke was seen as just that.

"I'm interested in one of these pieces, mainly because I feel like it could really add some class to my home."

He wasn't exactly sure how Brazil would perceive that, mainly because he was certain that Brazil was completely oblivious to Max's recent change in direction. Of course the archaeologist wouldn't be aware of Max's honest attempts to change, but the unicorn didn't hold it against him.

"I mean, I don't usually fancy the arts, don't see much purpose to them to begin with, but I do feel like one of them would add some much needed... panache to my living room."

The rich Stallion gulped and looked at Brazil, unwilling to explain himself further, mostly out of a desire for privacy, but also to see how Brazil would respond to that. There was a part of Max that still thought of Brazil as some worthless brute that saw fit to serve himself and only himself as he dug around for useless baubles. But of course, Max was wiling to give him a chance, only if he was given that chance in return.

The small dragon was furiously jotting down notes, pausing every few moments to grab yet another pastry and scarf it down. He had a lot to tell his boss, all of it was good news, and he was certain to get a raise from this. The messenger continued writing, hoping to get the letter out as soon as possible. Mere minutes after the letter had been read, a new one had been sent, the blast of flame erupting in the middle of the room as the paper was instantly sent out to Appleoosa and the expectant stallion waiting for it.

As soon as it was sent, the dragon ran up to Silver and promptly informed her. "Mister Rockefilly will be here in two days, the meeting will be here..." He passed her a small note with an address located in one of the less popular sections of Stalliongrad. "He suggests you bring whomever you wish, all are welcome."

Having completed his job, the dragon took a moment to grab some more snacks before leaving through the main doors. He was tired, and the next few days probably wouldn't be that fun, but fun isn't the point of working for a Rockefilly.

"I am not from Germaney, but that ought to be a very obvious thing to see."

Not from Germaney...

Martel smiled wide and returned her scowl with kindness, barely masking severe distrust. All he knew, however, was that she wasn't from here, but that doesn't prove she's an assassin. He just couldn't get over how odd she was being, her secluded nature coming across as suspicious more than anything else.

With a nudge, be dismissed the other two ponies, he had gotten closer to her, so they had served their purpose. One of then theatrically passed him a few bits, along with some hushed words, before grabbing the other and doing as Martel told. Soon he was alone with the made, and he took a moment to think before approaching further.

 She wore a cloak, which is an obvious attempt to hide something. Not to mention the constant shuffling underneath, this mare with had an itch or she was on the verge of slicing him in half. Obviously she could be very dangerous, but If she was that secretive, he had to stay close, unnerve her, make her slip up.

You don't survive being a mercenary by being an idiot...

Without being invited, Martel walked around the table, the -clank- of his metal hoof easily audible in the now relatively quiet tavern. He gently took a seat on one of the cushions and gave the mare an almost genuine smile. He put a hoof on the table and cleared his throat, taking a moment to examine her even more closely. She wasn't very happy, but why? Annoyance? Suspicion? Fear of being discovered? Martel had to know, for the safety of his client.

"Ah, I am sorry for their behavior, usually I do not make bets. I guess I am making exception for you!" He puts a little extra brogue into his words, piling on the charm. Martel reached up with a hoof and ruffled it through his own mane. "So, what is bringing you to Germaney? I did not think that Italilians would be coming here during winter."

As he spoke, another pony approached and gave Martel his tankard. The large purple stallion thanked the deliverer and added in a few more words, in Germane, of course. With a turn of his head and a flip of his mane Martel faced the  are again, adjusting his tunic to 'accidentally' allow her to catch a glimpse of his chain maille.

With a large gulp from his tankard, Martel waited for a reply.

Martel took a gulp from his tankard and faced the bar, turning his back to the suspicious pony. That scowl was just more evidence that they were up to no good. He kept his cheery disposition if only to fool any other ponies into thinking he was unaware. The large mirror behind the bar offered a great chance for passive surveillance, all Marty had to do was glance ahead and he could see the target. They may notice, they may not, it didn't really matter. 

To help his ruse, Marty would still shout, sing, and laugh, trying not to show just how concerned he was. The mysterious pony was wearing a large cloak, and it was hard to see if they were armed or not. Of course, Martel always assumed the worst, and so now he was dealing with a stranger with a weapon. Martel wasn't the kind of Stallion to play the waiting game, his lack of speed guaranteed that any battle of reaction times would most certainly not go his way. Action first, worry about consequences later.

After only another minute or so of watching the reflection, Marty tapped the bar seven times. The barkeep approached but stopped when Marty lifted a hoof. Without a word the purple stallion looked at his drink and performed some movements with his hoof, which the bartender quickly picked up on. His client had no clue what was going on, and he tugged on Martel's tunic.

With a quick sigh, Martel started explaining, wearing a grin to mask his words. "Barkeep will be watching over you while I address something, I will be back." Of course, Martel didn't fill him in with all the details, mainly because the last thing he wanted was a panicky client.

After chugging the rest of his drink. Martel picked up the hammer lying on the counter and lifted up a part of his tunic, revealing chain maille. With a -click- he attached the hammer to himself and let it hang freely at his side within reach. His client's eyes widened with fear, but a reassuring hoof from Martel calmed him down for the moment.

Without waiting any longer, Martel grabbed a pair of nearby ponies and started signing, soon the entire tavern erupted into an old Germaneic folk song. With two ponies in tow, Martel approached the suspicious pony, who did not seem pleased. He tried his best to mask his stunted leg, hoping that the pony didn't see their advantage. The singing continued, and drowned outthe Von Starkhuf's words to the two 'recruited' stallions who quickly nodded in compliance. 

As the trio approached, the song died down and soon the three ponies stood in front of the small table in the corner, smiling. Martel nudges the two of them and chuckles, before looking dead at the smaller pony. His smile faltered for just a second.

"Excuse me, Frau, but I had been making bet that you are not from Germaney. These foals..." He ruffles their manes. "... I am telling these foals that Germaney does not have such pretty mares! Would you be settling this for us?"

He was't being entirely dishonest, even though she was probably an assassin bent on killing Martel and his client, she was pretty. He could barely see anything with that cloak in the way, but he had a feeling that she was hiding a bit more than beauty.

The dragon grabbed a pastry from his plate loaded high with desserts and looked around for more to munch on. His hungry nature was interrupted as he remembered his job, he was supposed to note how the letter was received, and write a detailed report for Maximilian. Pulling out Quill and paper, the small dragon took up position at the head of the crowd, making himself obvious.

His boss had stated specifically what to look out for, but the dragon wasn't sure if he'd be able to note... He checked his notes... 'biting sarcasm'. The messenger simply shrugged and stretched his hand before getting ready to dictate a note to his boss.

A tavern near Germaney, one of Martel Von Starkhuf's favorite places to be. A tankard sat in front of him, frothy ale spilling out of the newly poured drink. He reached for it, but stopped himself, remembering why he was here. Marty was a mercenary, after all, and the contract comes first. The nervous stallion next to him gave a solemn chuckle and sipped his own glass of beer, returning to his paranoia.

As a Von Starkhuf, Martel's services were in high demand, and this particular pony seemed in desperate need. It was the typical 'protect me' contract, and he was more than willing to oblige, as long as he was still being paid. Once he learned that he client had family, Martel had drastically dropped his rate, something he had no problem doing. This was an easy job and he had already escorted his client out of danger, and they were almost home free, just one final pit stop before entering Germaney.

It wasn't easy, especially with Marty's stunted leg, but his brace held up and the pair of ponies managed to get back home. He often found himself struggling with his leg, but Marty was able to overcome it, he had to. He may be a large stallion, even for an earth pony, but there were still many that doubted him. Most of his family still didn't consider himself worthy of the Von Starkhuf name, and he was out to prove himself.

With his trusty hammer, Zornstahl, sitting on the counter in front of him, Martel felt as confident as ever. If anypony posed even the slightest threat to his client, he could deal with him. Alas, only an idiot would try to take on a Von Starkhuf, everypony in the business knows who they are, at least, Marty thought so.

Draping his large red cloak, emblazoned with his family crest, over his deep purple pelt, Martel took a moment to scan the crowd, and only when he deemed the coast clear did he allow himself to relax. With a glass full of beer, Martel gave a warm bellow and slapped the nervous stallion on the back.

"What is there to be worrying about? We are almost back at home, drink, and be merry!" He didn't allow his client to respond, and the large stallion raised his glass and offered a toast.

Martel felt pretty confident, and it seemed that nothing would sour this milk run.

"To victory! I am on the next round!" A rancorous cheer erupted from the other patrons, everypony liked free drinks. Only a single pony didn't cheer, a cloaked pony off in the corner that immediately drew Martel's attention. He couldn't make out many details, but he knew that a pony that didn't like free drinks was a suspicious one indeed. No matter, if they were a problem, he would deal with them accordingly. With another glance at the other pony, Martel returned to his drink.

Stalliongrad art institute, a structure so imposing that one would never guess that some of Equestria's finest works lay inside. Maximilian, being new to the city, found himself struggling to find anything, but after enough searching, and asking directions, the Rockefilly wound up in Stalliongrad's depository for the arts. His premiere purpose for being in the city was to meet with some important ponies, but he had heard, through word of mouth, that some unowned pieces had been brought in to the museum. Maximilian couldn't pass up a chance to at least look, and maybe even purchase, a fine piece of art.

The landing was large, and Max had to stop staring a the architecture long enough to actually explore the  building. The rich stallion trotted through, completely ignoring any piece he passed on his way to the new collection. Those pieces were already owned, and Max wasn't looking to purchase from a collector, besides, Max didn't really care for the arts.

Of course, utilitarian pieces, like architecture, and even pottery, were appreciated and even respected by Maximilian. His main gripe was with the large pieces of paper slathered with oil and sold off as 'worth something'. As an economically minded stallion, Max knew how value worked. Things only had the worth that ponies were willing to give to them, and he had no clue why these useless things were worth millions. Yes, they were beautiful, and he was more than willing to pay a small fee for that, but to pay for emotions? Ridiculous. Museums where just places for collector's to show off their stuff to the plebeians, who, in an attempt to distract themselves from their own shortcomings, try to ascribe value to these works where there is none. 

Of course, all of this didn't mean that Max wasn't interested in buying a piece. If these weren't owned, then the museum may have lost money in as acquiring them. If they had to be restored, that's even more money lost. Sure, proceeds from the museum could pay it off, but who knows how long that could take? For the last few months Max had been trying to better himself by bettering others. This wasn't about self sacrifice, he wasn't stupid, but he knew that if he had a chance, he would help others. Buying a few pieces would help out the museum and give Max things to put on the walls of his house, it was yet another chance to do some good.

His internal monologue continued for some time as he navigated the museum, eventually coming across a sign that made it known that the new collection lay inside. With a sigh of relief, Maximilian Rockefilly Jr trotted ahead. Fortunately, the curator of the museum was right there, and Max simply approached him, smiling that smile that only a Rockefilly can pull off. The other pony simply nodded and continued gazing at the centerpiece of the collection. 

Max hadn't been told exactly what the collection was, and the thing on the wall surprised him. He was no historian, but he could swear that the piece on the wall was some sort of fresco. His smile widened, finally history classes paid off! After a few more minutes of examining, Maximilian approached the curator to share a word. The elderly stallion adjusted his spectacles and looked at the pony in front of him.

Mac smiled some more and started off the conversation with a firm hoofshake, it didn't appear that the curator knew who he was. Max politely inquired as to whether these pieces where owned, to which the curator bluntly said no. The Rockefilly's smile only widened as he continued to ask questions, namely how in Equestria these pieces ended up in an art museum in the first place. With an annoyed sigh, the stallion was quick to point out that these had been excavated, restored by the museum of history, and then brought here for display. Max nodded and his grin faded, obviously this stallion wasn't very happy with his time being wasted, he was a pony after Max's own heart.

With a slight bow, Maximilian introduced himself by his full name. The curator simply adjusted his glasses again and looked at Max expectantly. The rich unicorn clarified, stating that he was in fact there to buy a piece or two. That seemed to get the older pony's attention and he quickly nodded, pointing out that one can't exactly just walk in and buy a piece, and that some paper work had better be filled out before anyone was getting anything. 

Max promptly agreed and allowed the stallion to go find somepony to consult, leaving Max by himself, staring at the piece that would soon be his.

Just as it seemed that the party was winding down, there was a knock at the large door that lead into the party. Without waiting for anypony to get the door, a small dragon in formal attire entered the room, clutching a letter in his hand. Going about the party, he looked for the evening's hostess, as the note he had was of great importance to the pony that had sent it.

The soiree was impressive, and he would make sure to include the details in the return letter that Maximilian expected from him. He navigated his way through the crowd, grabbing one or two hoer-d'ouvres for himself, as a reward for his hard work. Finally the dragon was able to spot his target across the room, and the small messenger ran up to Snow and bowed.

"Message for the party, Madame. It's from A Mister Maximilian Rockefilly Jr. He would be most gracious if it were to be read aloud to the guests." Still bowing, the dragon waited patiently for an answer as he handed out the letter with Snowfall written on the envelope.

The confusion and contempt radiated off of his company, and Max could easily sense it. It was obvious that the two ponies still weren't comfortable around each other, and a sense of despair set in on Maximilian. He wasn't the sort of pony to give up, but he sure felt like doing it right then and there. Without a second thought he gulped down his Appleoosan sunrise, only to follow it up with the cactus juice. The Rockefilly slammed the glass down and stared at the bartender, making it obvious that another round was in order.

"You'll be in bed soon enough, but let me get my money's worth first." His eyes seemed just a bit more tired than usual, and his usually commanding body language was reduced to sagging and leaning back in his chair with all the apathy he couldn't care to muster.

"And you'll both be rid of me, don't worry. I can tell that neither of you seem fit for this job. I'll make sure we get it over with, so I can hire some more competent ponies for the next assignment."

As soon as the second round arrived, Max grabbed the sunrise and held it aloft, ready to down it in one go.

Max straightened out his tux and took a deep breath before addressing the pair of ponies. He was a bit tired, and he thought that maybe a drink before bed would be best for all.

"I commend you both, and I believe now is the time for us to grab a nightcap before getting to bed."

With that, Maximilian turned and motioned for the pair to follow him towards one of the town's saloons. The three ponies push their way into one of the watering holes, and the crowd of stallions turned to watch them walk in and find a seat at the bar. It was completely silent as they were stared down, the gazes only moved once Max had taken his seat and nodded to the watching ponies.

The Rockefilly tapped on the bar three times, summoning the bartender. "I would like a shot of cactus juice and an Appleoosan sunrise."

The barkeep nodded and looked at the other two ponies, waiting for their orders.

Maximilian smiled and sipped his coffee, happy to hear what Bastion had to say. "You know what they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained." The Rockefilly put the mug down and looked at the other pony with a wide smile and bright eyes. "I'm quite pleased to know that I'll have a dependable pony assisting me in this."

"And yes, you will need to present it. You are going to the anniversary celebration of Northern Storm Industries, there you will find and greet the Snowfall, the CEO. You will politely inform her who sent you, and why you are there. Once you have the floor, you will read the note aloud. Then... then we see what happens from there."

The rich Stallion sipped his coffee and grabbed a nearby napkin and pulled out a pen from the inside pocket of his Tux. He scribbled a map of Equestria and drew a few lines crisscrossing it.

"This is our country." Max pointed to the lines on the napkin. "And these are our railways. A few sporadic lines of steel that span short distances and serve as nothing more than transportation for those unwilling to go by carriage."

"Appleoosa is out here, on the periphery, and the entire western half of Equestria is isolated from the more advanced, and therefore more prosperous, East."

"I came here to Appleoosa, because I saw potential. A gateway to the west and the gryphon lands through which the products of Stalliongrad could flow through. Of course, there is one problem."

"Appleoosa isn't connected to Stalliongrad. Even if one were to use the twisted system, one would have to make many stops and transfers, simply to get from one place to the other. These are passenger rails, not fit for freight."

"My goal is to create a new rail system, spanning the entire country and finally linking up the farthest east to the farthest west. The products of Stalliongrad will finally reach the west, and the food of the west will nourish the ponies of the east. And, to top it all off, I plan to tunnel through the mountains to connect us to the gryphons at Rockwington."

"This is the most audacious project anypony has undertaken. This is why I need you to go to Stalliongrad and deliver that letter. I can't do this alone, and I need the help of the big industries."

"And that is what I have up my sleeves."

The beverages arrive, and Max looked at the waiter as she asked them about any food they would like. "I'd love a frosty cream puff." With that, the waiter left and the two stallions were alone again.

The Rockefilly had heard Bastion's comment. "Why yes, this is the place where I go every morning for a cup of coffee." He levitated his mug up towards his mouth and took a gulp of the black elixir.

"Strong, just how I like it." Max set the cup down and grinned at the pony across from him.

"Did you know that Madame Bistro is from Manehattan? She's a nice mare... The first one to support my project here in Appleoosa. I guess visiting here all the time is my way of repaying her for that."

"Do you have any idea of what I'm trying to do, or have I not clued you in yet?"

Maximilian had been watching the fight without much interest. Mostly he just sat back and lazily tried to follow the action. He didn't feel as if there was really much going on other than a simple spar. Sure, it looked painful, but he was certain that scars and scrapes were what a pony was supposed to get in these practice sessions. Max didn't know for sure, it wasn't like he'd ever seen anypony fake fighting before.

The Rockefilly would get distracted and look around, but there was nothing of interest, and he was forced to watch the two ponies locked in what appeared to be fierce combat. As the battle raged on, he started to get worried. His fears and curiosity peaked when Silver decided to bite Zephyr. Maximilian was no expert on fighting, but he was fairly certain that such things were frowned upon.

He got to his hooves and trotted over, just in time to catch the two in another stand off.

"Ok, that's enough. I can see that you're both worthy fighters. I just hope the two of you learned a little something about each other, and will at least try to work together..."

Max sighed. "...but I'm not getting my hopes up,"

Max nodded as he entered. "Thank you, Bastion." The Rockefilly moved towards a table for two, trotting slowly, but with a certain air about him. The few ponies that were also inside tipped their hats to the pair, and Max took a seat off to the side.

Maximilian waited for Bastion to take a seat, and he motioned for the waiter to approach. Once his employee was comfortable, the rich Unicorn placed his order.

"Coffee, strong, hot."

The waiter nodded at Maximilian and turned to face Bastion for his order.

Max's ears flattened a bit at Bastion's comments. He had never really thought of himself as insecure, he just considered it a sense of realism, if not cynicism. The words stung, but the Rockefilly quickly shrugged them off and continued on. He wouldn't hold it against the stallion for saying that, rather, he was glad that at least this pony was willing to speak honestly with him.

"Bastion, in the coming months, you'll learn that I am not the usual pony. Speak when you wish, do not silence yourself merely because you were told that it was a rule. As you'll come to know with me, there are always loopholes." Max smiled and lead on, looking for anything of interest.

"Well, I suppose we could grab a quick cup of coffee, that would be nice..."

Max stopped and looked at Bastion. "I am merely presenting you with the chance to do as you please. If you, like so many other ponies in my life, decide that they would rather leave than stick around, then I will present no challenge to your desires."

The stallion sighed and continued on. "If you think that I am pushing you away, then that is once again my fault. You may be here to serve me, but that does not mean that I will not respect you and your wishes. I will continue to put that ticket with your paycheck, and you may refuse is as many times as you like. If you ever feel the need to leave, I will not stop you."

With a disgruntled sigh, Maximilian passed Bastion and headed away. "I think you may have questions for me, so ask them."

Max nodded. Whether or not Bastion liked it didn't matter, the Rockefilly felt that it was only fair to give the stallion a choice. He would have liked to qualify his position, but Bastion stormed off in a hurry. Maximilian quickly followed and caught up to the younger stallion. "I hope you understand... I only wish to offer you a fair chance to leave if circumstances change."