Gerrard

Gerrard grinned devilishly as Falco claimed to have stop searching through the trash. The black griffon tried to be an optimist, even if it made him seem outlandish, the hybrid rubbing his talons together in anticipation. "Luck is a very great skill to have and I cultivate it well. My keen eyes can spot the unnoticeable and pry it from the doldrums of despair," he cheered in an upbeat manner. When Falco asserted that Gerrard liked to dig through trash, the younger bird shook his head while chuckling, placing a claw on the shoulder of his friend. "While griffons may not be related to vultures, we are wise enough to know that scavenging can be very profitable," he explained in an upbeat manner, not taking any noticeable offense to his friend's playful insult. The black hybrid loved to make completely baseless claims on the off chance he might be correct and come off as omniscient. He really didn't expect to destroy all the glasses so easily, but it would be quite the sight if he did by accident. "Oh Falco, you have so little faith. While you may be able to make great shots, you lack the schooling required to apply advanced geometry to your craft. If you hit the bottle at just the right angle, you can shatter the glass and spray the nearby bottles with shards, shattering them as well. It isn't actually that hard, just watch an expert handle it," he explained with a smile, knowing perfectly well that even in theory, such a feat was probably impossible. These were glasses, not bowling pins after all. Gerrard picked up the bow and it's bolts, looking them over as he theorized how to load them. "A crossbow is just a bow that has the pull locked back by a mechanism, I just need to pull the string and lock it into place and all the hard work is done," he thought in his mind, the youngster trying to pull the string back with one talon while holding the crossbow in his other. The string didn't even budge, essentially feeling like a metal rod. Gerrard let out a faint sigh, knowing he had bit off more than he could ever hope to chew. "Quite the crossbow here, I was expecting you to use a lighter gauge Falco," he replied, trying to cover up his inexperience by asserting the sergeant used a child's crossbow. He then pressed the bow against his chest and tried to pull it back with both of his talons, his face visibly straining as the cord almost reached the proper latch. He released it again, gasping lightly and grumbling to himself. Gerrard may not have been an exceptionally strong griffon, but this was a pain in the claw. "I just need more leverage, that is all," he thought in his head, placing the crossbow on the ground beneath his paws as he pulled the string directly up with all of his might. He finally latched it into place, readying the fire mechanism. The whole scene was quite the spectacle, but it was probably to be expected from Gerrard. "See, not that hard Falco! Just stand back, this will be quite the spectacle," he cheered to his friend, trying to hide his heavy breathing as he pulled a bolt out and placed it into the channel. The tired youngster haphazardly removed his talon from the bolt, Gerrard not noticing that he had sliced the bolt with his claw. He gave it one last verification before holding the crossbow with both of his talons, the dark hybrid having the most awful hunch imaginable in his form as he tried look down the sights. He looked through the scope, feeling as if he was reading a foreign language, numbers and lines fulling the glass tube as he tried to aim with his shaky claws. The griffon clearly had no formal training, his body drifting lightly as he failed to brace himself in any meaningful manner. He had no idea what the scope was telling him, and simply decided to put the most central mark on the scope atop his target at the edge of the table. He tried to hold the crossbow as steady as he could manage, the irrigation worker pulling the trigger in the least fluid manner imagineable. "Twang!" the crossbow squealed as the force of the bow threw his unprepared body to the dirt. It fired awkwardly, the mechanism attempting to launch the bolt, which promptly discharged, most of it anyway. The griffon didn't bother to adapt at all for the light breeze, not to mention the poor flying of the bolt he damaged. And as quickly as he had fired, the event was over with a loud crunch, none of the glasses looking remotely injured at first glance. Gerrard completely missed all of them, instead the hybrid shooting clear through the leg of the rickety table as he snapped one clear off. With it's foundation destroyed, the table lurched over and crashed into the ground, taking all the glasses with it as they shattered into a heap of broken glass. Gerrard's eyes widened, the Canterlot native messing up his shot in the most awful of manners. "And, there ya go. One shot, and I broke all of glasses. Didn't even need a second shot," he tried to claim victory after making the worst shot ever attempted. He had succeeded in fulfilling his claim by failing at a new level. Gerrard wasn't proud of himself, but he didn't want to admit defeat.

The griffon smirked, seeing her blushing for him already. "What an interesting theory. I suppose that means two griffons can't celebrate this holiday. But then again, you aren't a griffon, are you?" he slyly remarked, leaning in, the hybrid lightly bopping her snout with his smooth black beak. His yellow eyes looked across to her and he smiled, gently nuzzling the unicorn for all the other patrons to see. "We will have to see I suppose," he remarked, pulling back to a normal position at the table.

The mare cocked her head to the side as he shrugged, her eyes watching his movements closely. "Sometimes we can not change things despite our best efforts. You can never really know if your efforts will always be futile though. I would suggest taking countermeasures perhaps. I wear a cloak to make myself less noticeable," she suggested calmly to him. When asked about her demeanor, the unicorn blinked, glancing back to him. "Voice inflection is not necessary for communication. I prefer to avoid extraneous things. Is that an acceptable explanation," she explained calmly, not exactly answering his question as they stood in the middle of the dangerous forest.

Gerrard's experiences were never truly made in jealousy of pegasus, the griffon much more pleased with the abilities of his own species regardless. He would much rather have dextrous talons and a sharp beak than be able to control weather. That didn't mean that he approved of pegasus manipulating the weather to bring harm or discomfort on others. Of course a part of him didn't like that weather control sometimes marginalized his work, ponies having a great ability to regulate the amount of waters their cities received. The black griffon carefully descended into the junkyard beside his older friend, the irrigation specialist listening in anticipation of a glorious story. Gerrard nodded, hearing tales of great treasure recovery, his expression changing into a frown slightly as Falco claimed to have made quite a bit of money finding hidden treasure. After thinking it over a bit, Gerrard grinned and chuckled a bit, deciding to be more upbeat. "So you took all the good stuff for yourself? I just gotta find things that you don't know the value of. Just tell me what you don't know," he playfully teased, lightly jabbing Falco with a balled talon before he gave a lesson on crossbows. "Bolt channel, drink?" Gerrard thought in silence, the griffon knowing enough to guess what the channel was, his actual experience with what hindered the weapon non-existent though as he walked around a few pieces of s**** that jutted from the dirt beneath them. "Yeah, don't want to get the channel sticky and mess up the release mechanism?" he commented in a halfhearted manner, not really having any idea what he was talking about. Regardless, it seemed to make enough sense in his head that he just rolled with it, the black hybrid willing to amend his statement if Falco disagrees with him. Gerrard raised his brow at the mention of repeating crossbows, the hybrid having no idea at all that the Aquellian military actually used them. Then again though, he wasn't exactly versed in what that crossbow was other, just hearing the explanation and rolling with it. He really felt like a pony talking to a griffon at times, not that he would ever admit something like that, his pride as griffon never allowing it. "Well, I guess you don't really need to be accurate when you have five griffons launch fifty bolts at a target," he mused, stroking his beak as he thought over the advantages of a custom crossbow. "I guess going with accuracy over quantity makes for a better representation of skill. Not to mention that you don't need to carry around nearly as many bolts. If I remember right, bolts are considerably more bulky than arrows too," he reasoned aloud about small bits of minutia. The weight would be noticeable of course, but proud griffons would never complain about it, or at least he thought in his head anyway. As they finally marched into the shooting range, Gerrard looked the area over with his keen eyes. He could see a table and the targets, glass bottles in this case. Falco went on about his deft talons, both griffons agreeing that they were quite useful tools. "These are why I am out here after all. Only unicorns can safely use my tools, and they can't fly. "I'm the only one in Canterlot who can travel across Equestria in a day and work on location. They know that, and here I am," he explained proudly, the dark hybrid revelling in his sharp black talons, very pleased with himself. His trance was broken though when Falco asked if wanted to shooting a bottle off the table. He blinked a bit in disbelief, the younger hybrid amazed that he would trust him with his sacred crossbow. "Oh, yeah. I could shoot it once or twice. Probably could clear the table of bottles in one or two shots. Just think of it like bowling," Gerrard explained with a chuckle, trying not to sound too excited about it in front of his friend. He literally had no idea what to do, but with such an exceptional crossbow, he figured it would do all the work for him regardless.

He let out a sigh, finding it hard to believe that the locals were so disinterested in keeping their water running. Maybe there was a misunderstanding or something, freezing pipes being a rather serious problem. "Time to go back to town and give the mayor a stern talking to. I don't ever want to get assigned to come into another blizzard," he grumbled to himself, the griffon just glad to have a thick coat of fur and feathers. Before he could head back into town though, the shout of a feminine sounding guard caught his attention. He let out an audible sigh, the griffon probably figuring that any guard out in this weather was probably as angry as him. As the snow around him swirled about furiously, the griffon figured he was in for a long arduous evening. He roughly s****ed the frozen ice off his beak and dusted the snow off his dark form as he prepared to defend himself against the dangerous accusations that were shot his way. "I'm fixing your city's frozen pipe system. You guys need to make sure that the heaters work and that the whole system isn't under a giant pile of snow. Freeze proof pipes can only work to such a degree, after all," he explained, hoping the unicorn that was pressing him was ready to listen and hear him out. Gerrard tried to make out who it was, but it was hard to see anything with his black tinted goggles, especially in the poor weather. He lowered the goggles and revealed his keen yellow eyes to the mare, the griffon looking her over again as she got close to him. That stern look, the distinct byzantium coat with a unique amethyst mane, he recognized her, the griffon raising his brow in disbelief. "Hey, you're... Destiny, from the badlands, right? It's me, Gerrard! I could never forget a face. How's life been for the best spell caster I've ever met?" he cheered playfully for her, the griffon having a wide smile on his black beak. The pair hadn't seen each other since he was sent off to Equestria of all places. The pair spent many desert days together and to meet her in the middle of a blizzard, what were the chances? Gerrard never thought he would see her again, especially in the country of her species. He never really did get to ask her many questions back in their younger years, the duo getting into too much trouble to ask anything meaningful in their younger days. Then again, kids were kids and they were really only interested in playing and having fun. Gerrard really hoped that she remembered him, the griffon not wanting to be an ice sculpture to be put on display in front of town hall.

Gerrard glanced down on the desolate landscape beneath them, the griffon thinking over his youth spent playing in the badlands north of the griffon capital of Talonoplis. He was always told that it was dangerous, but he was a griffon, and it was his job to show all the scary monsters who was in charge. Normally it meant getting beat up by some wild animals, but those animals never messed with him again (probably because they couldn't find him again)! Those were stories for other days, but perhaps he could dig one out some day and... 'touch it up' for some of his fans. "I suppose so this would be a good place to make such a yard. You could always pester some pegasi to give you some water, they do like to manipulate weather for their own needs, why not yours?" the hybrid commenting about the situation, his voice showing some faint disdain for pegasi and their control of the weather. He spotted the airship graveyard beneath him, the wreckages intriguing him somewhat. "So, are there things down there aside from the ships?" the irrigation worker asking in a curious manner, interested if there were any treasures hidden in the sand. There weren't many opportunities in Equestria to really scavenge for loot, one of his favorite pass times back in Aquellia. "I remember how excited I was when I found a crossbow out in the badlands when I was just a young kid. When I brought it home, I got punished for pointing the loaded weapon at one of my brothers. Who would have thought it had ammunition in it? Wait, don't answer that, it was rhetorical," he explained with a laugh, the griffon poking fun at himself, hinting that he probably didn't think things through much as a child. The black griffon put a talon up to his beak as he mused over the incident. "I never did fire it, or any crossbow for that matter. I think it was a standard issue crossbow, a bit different from your own. Yours isn't the standard issue is it? It looks to be a bit higher quality than the spartan ones issued to all the standard recruits, right? Perhaps it has something to do with the crossbow, or you having talons," he jokingly asserted, Gerrard having no idea what made shooting so hard. "You gotta admit you have a bit of an edge of the ponies on this side of the border, right?" he added playfully, as he wondered where Falco wanted to go practice shooting.

Gerrard normally didn't like pegasi, the griffon finding their arrogance and ceaseless desire to race him absolutely annoying. They seemed to manipulate weather on a whim, the flying ponies attempting to control nature completely, a few rogues even trying to assault others with lightning. They did know that clouds managed to get by in other places around the world right? Regardless, Gerrard was a braggart by nature, and as long as it didn't involve clouds or flying, he was always for it. Her claim seemed far-fetched but plausible. Did she do that, or was it Daring Do? He wasn't a buff on the series, but he had glanced through it many times and couldn't remember if it was one of the tales. Still, she wasn't a flying fanatic, her Daring Do diguise at least stating that a bit, his keen eyes able to barely detect a purple base beneath her black dyed mane. Not many ponies at all had such a mane and it was a welcome departure from all the pastel painted ponies he normally had to deal with. If she wasn't the nine thousandth pony to spout on about The Wonderbolts, she was A-okay in his book. "Ahh, the helmet of Commander Hurricane, the hero honored during Hearth's Warming Eve. The pegasus leader who helped in the defeat of the dreaded windigos. I know him well, required reading for the History of Equestria course," he explained, the griffon seeming rather versed in Pony Culture. He seemed knowledgeable enough to be assigned on a secret mission, but what made him so special? Gerrard knew what would seal the deal or completely destroy his credibility. That would be his finale after he explained everything. Gerrard did a second survey of the area around them as if he prepared to tell her the most top secret information of all. "Lady Pathfinder, my department in Canterlot has detected that some evil entity has been siphoning water from this very ghost town. While you may not know, Equestria leaves water on in some remote places, even abandoned ones in the event of an emergency or immediate need for service extension.They figure that nobody is gonna steal the water in an abandoned town, and of course this is usually the case. That was until last month," Gerrard explained to her in a dramatic voice as he extended a large black wing like a cloak as he hid his maw from her. He had spoken the truth, but perhaps made the situation seem a bit more dramatic than necessary. His yellow eyes narrowed in a dramatic fashion, the hybrid looking excessively menacing as he prepared to explain the final part of his mission. "Someone, or SOMETHING, has been taking the water from this town, and we can only assume it is for the most nefarious of deeds. As of today, they have already siphoned thousands of gallons of water. With that much water, they could cause a catastrophe of mythic proportions. They could cause a severe water shortage for Appleoosa and use that water to bury a city under a deluge of stolen liquid! That is why the princesses have assigned me, Gerrard 'fire breath' Grayfeather, to this remote ghost town. Only I have the abilities to eliminate any water attacks by evaporating it with the hottest of fires. Dragons envy my very breath, and for good reason. My fire is so hot that it has scorched my beak black. It is so hot that it has transcended the normal fire colour of red and evolved into blue with a temperature that rivals that of the sun!" he explained in the most dramatic of manners imaginable. His claims seemed impossible at first, there being no recordings of griffons with such a powerful ability, but would he just make a lie and not back it up? The best kind of allies were the ones who believed in you wholeheartedly, and this would be his coup de grace. This would prove that he was someone of great power that needed to be trusted. His large chest inhaled a deep breath of air loudly as he prepared to let out a deep breath. He quickly turned his head to the side, giving her a good view of his cheek as a focused jet of blue flames seemed to shoot out of his maw. The fire hissed with an intensity that almost screamed power. It's shape was unusually uniform, possibly hinting to the degree of which he had developed the skill. Of course he could have been faking it, but they wouldn't send a faker out to save the world would they? And as soon as the fire had started, it was gone, almost on a whim. However it happened, it was quite the spectacle to the untrained eye. After a bit of light shuffling beneath his wing, Gerrard slowly returned his black 'cloak' to it's normal position, the griffon standing before her as he was before, the only thing between the pair being the large backpack that was strapped around his neck. "You ready to check the town for clues? We can start at the salt bar," he remarked, pointing to the rickety building that housed a pair of damaged swinging doors. It looked dangerous, but that only made things more interesting, right?

Her expression remained absolutely stoic, even with his sharp teeth showing to her. "It is safer to avoid conflict than it is to initiate. In regards to if I am being tailed, I am not aware of any. I am not arrogant enough to think I am omniscient though, and it is always a possibility that one has eluded my detection," she modestly explained to him in her usual monotone voice. Something about this mare was in the very least, odd. Something was also amiss with the black pegasus, but she was too polite to bring it up to him.

Gerrard listened carefully to Falco as he introduced himself, the former sergeant seeming to be a bit more interesting than he let on. He mused for a moment, stroking his long black beak as he tried to put a face on the name, Kestrelson. It didn't sound like a very common griffon name, not that Gerrard actually knew many griffons. "I really know more about ponies than griffons, I could name all the Mayors in Equestria and I can't name a single one in Aquellia," he sighed, in an almost embarrassed manner as he tried to keep his keen eyes focused on Falco. When the lighter hybrid stated that he was going to go shooting, Gerrard couldn't help but raise his brow. He took off after the pawn shop owner, glad that he wasn't flying too fast. "Wait, what sort of junkyard is it? They normally avoid making them in the heartland, some stuff about it being bad for the environment, tree-hugger stuff," he Gerrard remarked, showing a bit of Griffon pride as he flapped his wings alongside Falco. "Better to make a spot where people can scavenge for old junk than just bury it out of sight. You know what I mean?" he added, looking over to his older associate for his opinion on the matter. "I wouldn't mind watching an expert take a few shots with a crossbow between junk piles. Assuming that is okay with you?" he added, his long black tail wagging lightly. His mother was in the military when he grew up, but was rarely around home. Gerrard never bothered to press her for information like his siblings, the black hybrid having other interests. In fact, he didn't know much about any modern weapons, Gerrard only seeing pictures and reading about them in the odd book he came across. He was probably too proud to admit it though, the griffon hating to be shown up in anything, even things he had no idea how to do.

She blinked a bit, thinking over his response. He hadn't given her any reason to doubt his intentions. If what he had said was true, which his appearance would seem to validate, it was unlikely that he had many connections outside the forest to ought her regardless. "Okay, I will accept your terms, please keep my words confidential. I am a courier who delivers items that require or desire secrecy. If a thief is tailing me, entering a place that is perceived as dangerous can be a strategy to elude them," she explained in what seemed like a genuine manner.

The griffon finished off his ice cream and noticed the mare looking around the shop at all the ponies. He shrugged, not sure what the bug deal was as he waited for her to finish. When she mentioned it was that holiday though, he gulped nervously. "Oh, Hearts and Hooves Day? How could I forget," he remarked in a confused manner. "Alas, I have no hooves, it must not be meant to be for us," he playfully teased, lightly grabbing her hooves with his talons as they sat across from each other.

Falco was onto him, his expression of disbelief could see through his hyperbole and Gerrard knew it as well. He hoped his new acquaintance would let him slide by with his assertions because he clearly couldn't keep passing them off as truth. He didn't call him out, the younger griffon seeming to dodge a bullet as he told himself to stop laying it on thick with strangers. Of course, if anyone could hear Gerrard promise himself that, they could measure how long he could last in minutes. When Falco expressed that he didn't care why the city was called Beakbreak, Gerrard knew his ruse was over, the black griffon forced to raise his brow in alarm. When the ex-sergeant dropped the P-bomb on Gerrard though, he couldn't help but visibly cringe. One chink in his armor was clearly visible, the over compensating griffon chuckling weakly as his proud eyes weakly glanced down at the ground. "Uhh, I'm not a plumber," he remarked simply, the griffon trying his best to look him in the eyes as he spoke. Plumbers go into the homes of ponies and fix their pipe systems. I go across Equestria and fix their pipe system-" he remarked accidentally describing himself as a one before correcting himself. "I also help design and lay them out, plumbers don't do that at all. I even have a certificate to prove it!" the griffon explained long windedly, trying to make himself sound extra important. He quickly fished out his certificate from the university to prove his assertion, the black hybrid showing it to Falco. While the document was clearly legitimate, it was also true that it was worn and tattered, clearly damaged from being presented to many people. Gerrard was not as infallible as he let on, the griffon on his heels after one comment regardless of what his weak smile declared. He folded his arms as he sat on his haunches, his long tail not wagging at all as he searched for the words to salvage the situation. It suddenly struck him, he had an easy way to change the subject. "So uh, Mr... I don't think that we have introduced us to each other yet. I am Gerrard Grayfeather... uh as my diploma stated. And you are named what fair crossbow griffon?" he asked his voice sounding as if he we unsure of what to call Falco. He just needed a good time to lay it on thick with Falco. "Oh and yes I figured out what was wrong with your water, yup, took me about... three minutes," Gerrard replied vaguely to Falco, not stating what exactly was wrong to begin with. Gerrard nodded to himself a bit as he spoke to Falco. "Yeah, three minutes was a good pick for time, very modest!" he thought to himself in his head, the hybrid slowly starting to forget his previous promise to himself.

"It would be unsafe for both of us if I told you what I did for a living. I could only tell you if you agreed to not divulge my personal information to anyone," she explained ominously. to him, her words seeming to hint that it was something he might not want to know. The mare glanced down at one of her hooves, spotting a large spider climbing up the side of her cloak. Even then, she maintained her composure, the unicorn carefully picking it up in her magic and placing it on a nearby tree. "This location is relatively safe as long as one does not dawdle in one place needlessly as we are now," she explained calmly to him. She seemed almost robotic at a glance, this mare was definitely strange as the very least.

Her soft black ears perked up as he spoke up about his occupation. "Normally, security guards only have the same authority as private citizens, the exception being that they have full reign and permission to be in the area they are hired to protect. Being a certified peace officer as well is quite rare, your clients must appreciate having such a person on their pay roll. Not being a royal guard allows more freedom and personal direction in your life as well. You appear to have a unique collection of credentials and availability," she replied mechanically, the unicorn dissecting his comment thoroughly. Asteria seemed well versed in the limitations abilities of security personnel, perhaps she was very familiar with such people for reasons unknown. "I am a native of Canterlot, although my talents are not uniquely suited for living in that town on a permanent basis. I was returning from business when I was accosted for play with the young ponies," she explained vaguely for him, the odd mare never seeming to give him exactly the information he needed. Her polite mannerism and vaguely fancy tone seemed to hint that Asteria was indeed from Canterlot, although she didn't exactly look like a normal member of the city by any means. When he referenced her cloak, the unicorn paused and glanced over it again, her keen eyes verifying it's integrity. She paused again, the unicorn seeming to piece together a suitable response to his question. "There are many reasons I wear a cloak. While it is indeed heavy, growing used to it's weight will allow me to function at a higher level. I wear a multipurpose cloak to be ready for poor weather events that I have not forseen, and while it may make me look suspicious, the alternative may be much worse. Criminals are less likely to mess with dangerous looking characters, and while it may make me a target of policemen, I have nothing to hide and do not fear being arrested," she explained calmly to him. Her expression was just as serious as when he first spoke, and while she did answer his questions, it seemed as if she avoided describing what exactly she did.

Asteria looked over his face, her expression unchanging even as she saw his eye. She seemed very collected and calm for reasons unknown. It begged the question of how it got there, but the mare was far too polite to ask such a personal question. She paused as he inquired into why she was here, the unicorn sensing that he was pleased to see her arrival. "I enter the forest to free my trail from anyone who may be following me. I feel that this forest is safer than being blindly followed after," she remarked calmly for him, not exactly explaining herself too well. It still begged the question though, what was she doing that was more dangerous than the forest?

"You must be great at hiding, I would remember such a striking young mare," he playfully replied, the griffon carefully enjoying his mango ice cream as he sat at the table. The hybrid carefully shuffled his food between his two dark talons, as he looked her over patiently. She did seem like the type who didn't get out enough, hopefully this might help her open up to others better. "You like your ice cream, best in town I think," he remarked in a happy tone, clearly liking his.

The ears of the black mare perked up as she heard the faint clicking noise of a camera. She had been caught, and by a photographer at that. Had he taken pictures of her client as well? She wasn't entirely sure, but lives could be in danger if she didn't stop that photographer. If everyone knew that her friend Gerrard had received such a valuable tool, he would become a massive target for greedy thieves. If her own identity was posted in a newspaper, she could be outed as a secret courier and that would make her job even harder to manage. "Sir photographer, you I am going to request that not publish any of the pictures you may have taken of my or my colleague. Doing so could cause danger to many ponies and non-ponies alike," she replied calmly, her voice showing no sign of fear or worry as she cantered along towards the tiny photographer. The unicorn didn't sound guilty, but she definitely looked suspicious, her fierce crimson eyes locked on the thin white pegasus. With a good look at her face, the young colt would be able to see her black pelt and scarlet mane, the two rare traits making her easy to identify. Her expression was rather neutral though, the unicorn seeming unassuming as she approached him. She hoped he would hear her our, the intimidating mare not wanting to chase after a young pony. If he did decide to run off though, Featherweight would learn what was hiding beneath her cloak. Asteria ran between Aquellia and Equestria on a weekly basis and could easily be argued to be one of the most athletic unicorns around, easily able to keep pace with any earth pony and young flier. They were rather close to Ponyville and she could only hope that the whole situation resolved itself very fast. Mugging a young pony would probably look even worse than dealing with shady characters in secret, she didn't want it to come to anything like that.

The wind howled defiantly in the northern reaches of Equestria as the city of Stalliongrad did it's best to endure another harsh winter. Snow poured down from the sky as it contemplated the formation of a blizzard. Most of the reasonable ponies in town had already sought out shelter, a few stragglers and unlucky guards the only ones braving the freezing cold. A lone visitor hovered above the frigid town, a large griffon with an enormous black wingspan that was painted white with ice. He flapped his wings roughly and descend to the ground, the hybrid unable to keep flying with iced wings. The griffon glanced back with his yellow eyes and roughly brushed the ice off his wings. "Gah, if it wasn't the fire, it was the ice. Those Canterlot ponies stick me with the worst assignments imaginable. If this job turns out to be a waste of time again, I'm gonna flip some unicorns over," he complained, the griffon rubbing his black talons together as he tried to stop them from freezing. He wandered along the outskirts of town as he remembered back to his briefing about the irrigation system of this town. "Freeze proof pipes accented with a heating system and elevated above the ground to prevent the system from getting buried in snow," he remarked aloud, the griffon wondering how many violations this system had. Gerrard pawed his way over to the irrigation system, his feet doing well enough to ignore the cold snow as he came upon the system he was hired to fix. A mess of steel pipes littered the landscape as they stretched out over the distance, fanning out towards all the homes in the frigid city. He strapped on his black tinted welding goggles, the griffon deciding they would best protect his eyes from the frozen weather while he worked on the pipes. He traced the pipes back to their source and saw the main line buried beneath the snow, Gerrard groaning because he realized it would be an absolute pain to fix this system on his own. "Okay, damaged heater, and no snow removal, they only failed two of the three antifreeze precautions," he explained to nobody in particular as he looked over the situation. "Let's see how deep the pipe is under the snow," the griffon remarked, pulling a long crescent wrench out and stabbing it into the snow. When he didn't reach the pipe, Gerrard glanced back to town, knowing that this assignment was much worse than he could have imagined.

The cloaked unicorn was a tall mare with a coat of blackest night, her short scarlet mane draped over to the side of her face as she trudged through the forest. Her ears perked up as the confused voice of a stallion disturbed her trip into the dangerous forest. She carefully steps off a broken twig and slowly approaches the pegasus, the unicorn glancing over to the resident of the forest with a pair of intense crimson eyes. "I apologize if my intrusion into this forest has disturbed you, it was not my intention," she apologized, the stoic mare not in the least bit frightened as she looked her equally dark counterpart over. Her long black horn glowed a dark red as she lowered her cowl with magic to give him an equal view of her face. "Hello Stranger, I am attempting to pass through your forest, I have no intention of causing unnecessary disturbance to you," she added, in an almost monotone manner.

A light breeze blew through the park, lightly scattering the mane of the attentive unicorn as she stood before the guard. The unicorn lowered her head to get a better view of his face as he hung his head in shame. "May I ask why you seem distraught? While they were not in danger this particular time, there is no way to know with certainty that the children were safe without investigating. Your actions have caused no harm to anyone, there is no reason to move on with regret, especially if nothing regrettable happened. In addition to that, pitying yourself serves no constructive purpose. If a bird decided to not fly after failing in a flight, it would be likely that no birds would streak across our sky," the black mare explained calmly, her words seeming aimed at inspiring the guard. "I am Asteria Stillheart, honored to meet you sir. May I ask your name?" she politely remarked, the unicorn doing a subservient bow before the sad faced guard. The dark pelted pony patiently waited for a response before returning to a normal posture, the tall mare easily able to look him in the eyes if he decided to stop slouching. "May I ask for the specifics on your occupation? Your disposition seems different from the royal guards," she added calmly, the mare seemingly unable to take any offense from anything as she repeatedly tried to defend his own actions against her. Perhaps there was some trick to understanding this enigmatic mare, something unique about her perspective that would let him read the thoughts behind her stoic face.

Gerrard paused and shielded his eyes from the sun with a black talon as his keen yellow eyes glanced up at the figure, the griffon raising his brow in a sense of disbelief. "Ponies don't have nearly that wingspan. What are the odds of running into another griffon in Beakbreak city," he thought to himself as the stranger came into clearer view. The stranger was a griffon, a normal coloured one at that, his green eyes standing out as the only peculiar thing about him. "Well, I was told by my bosses in Canterlot that I needed to make sure all the ponies over here were properly watered. Wouldn't want them to dry out and wilt, you know, gardening and all that nonsense," Gerrard explained in an overly casual manner, chuckling lightly as he used the standard griffon explanation of his pony related job. "Apparently though, I found one of those strange ponies with claws and a beak though, how rare!" he added with a laugh, poking a bit of fun at their shared species as he walked up to the somewhat older griffon. Gerrard was an adult as Falco could tell, but it was also obvious that he had spent a lot of time among ponies, his feathers well groomed and his black coat well kept. As Falco mentioned that he must be hot in his dark tinted body, Gerrard smirked devilishly as he stood next to his green eyed counterpart. "Alas, I wasn't planning for hot weather when I went about designing the most handsome body that bits could buy. Normally the mountains of merry mares shield me from the sun, apparently they haven't picked up my scent yet," he explained, showing off his black coat and wings and an equally black talon that almost begged the question if he was part crow or something. "I must ask though, how does it feel having your picture plastered in every dictionary cataloging our species? Did you tell them your eyes are green, not yellow?" he jokingly remarked, asserting that his new acquaintance looked astoundingly normal. His keen golden eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the crossbow. "You do know that it is illegal to hunt ponies, or any other sentient creatures in Equestria right? Wouldn't want to incite the ponies of Beakbreak City. At least I might learn why it is called such at least," he mused aloud, Gerrard carefully rubbing his longer black beak as he stood beside Falco. "You do know that, right?" he teased, wholly expecting some snarky retort, Gerrard well know for his own. When you were a griffon who worked at the order of Ponies, you learned such defense mechanisms very well.

Luna's beautiful moon loomed over the quiet city of Ponyville on a starry summer night. The air on the outskirts of town was chilly, a stark contrast to the heatwave the town had endured a mere few hours earlier. The streets of the town seemed empty as ponies started to tuck themselves away into their warm beds. That of course was what 'they' hoped, a pair of shady looking figures standing on the edge of town, their dark forms exposed under the light of a street light. A griffon with a coat of blackest night seemed to be conducting business with a unicorn whose identity was masked beneath a dark blue cloak. The hybrid had matching black wings with silver head feathers, his keen yellow eyes staring at the pony inside the mysterious outfit as the pair seemed to conduct some sort of shady looking business venture. A dark red magical glow filled the air as a large crescent wrench floated ominously towards the griffon. The beaked predator seemed distracted by something, turning his head away as the unicorn raised the clearly heavy tool above his black beaked face. Was he about to be clubbed by the strange unicorn? Before the tool could be moved any further, it was snatched up in the black clutches of the griffon, his sharp talon pulling it down to eye level as he looked the tool over. His keen eyes widened, the griffon looking the literally gleaming tool over. Anyone with an eye for detail could tell that the tool was something special, perhaps made by an artisan, or crafted out of some super material. As the griffon held it still, the tool was soon revealed to be a crescent wrench, and a large one at that. It must have weighed a lot considering it was large and made of some type of metal, the hybrid carefully holding it with two talons. His black maw move as he seemed to speak with the cowled unicorn, the griffon releasing one talon from it as he firmly held it in one talon. He glanced down and looked at the tool, the griffon swinging the tool around as if it were almost weightless, the unicorn not even flinching at the display. He looked like a strong griffon, but even then, the whole spectacle was a lot to take in, could this griffon be some sort of arms expert? "Thanks Asteria," the griffon remarked loudly in an intimidating voice voice as he slipped the tool into the large brown bag strapped around his neck. The unicorn, supposedly named Asteria, nodded their head in agreement before hearing the hybrid speak aloud again. "As you know Asty, nobody can know about this, it is too dangerous a secret to get out into the public. I know you wouldn't betray my trust, just gotta cover my bases," he explained with a jovial grin. He balled up his black talon and lightly punched the shrouded figure, eliciting no reaction from them. The strange pony seemed to be some sort of expert too, never seeming to react to anything, no matter how scary or rough the griffon was. "I really owe ya, this should cover your costs and fee," the griffon handing the unicorn a massive sack of bits. The tool must have been made of solid gold or something, the unicorn receiving an obscene amount of money for a mere wrench. With one last bow before the unicorn, the black hybrid turned around and flapped a massive set of wings, carrying his large body off into the night sky. 'Asteria' paused for a moment to give him time to escape off into the night. After waiting a few seconds, the unicorn pocketed the payment beneath their cloak and turned around and faced into town. Any pony who might have been looking in the direction of the dark pair would notice a pair of crimson eyes peering out from beneath a thick cowl, the orbs almost seeming to light up a jet black face that carried the most stoic of expressions. The unicorn was in fact a mare, and a tall one at that, easily able to look the strong griffon in the eyes as they performed their business deal. Her black hooves slowly started to move as she decided to make her way back into Ponyville, the unicorn seeming to have other things to do for the night.

"Beakbreak City, I don't know what is worse, the name of this city or it's location. Who builds a city on the edge of a desert, smack dab between two mountain ranges. I could only imagine trying to walk to this infernal town," Gerrard growled as he landed on the outskirts of the strangely named border town. Tartarus itself was a few miles away, the griffon guessing that it couldn't be much worse there as the sun shined down on his black pelt like a laser. In fact, everything about the griffon happened to be black, from his tail to his beak, the only exception being his silver head plumage and his keen yellow eyes. What luck, he was wearing all black on one of the hottest days of the year. He was here to investigate reports that the town was having water shortages. And as usual, the flying architect was assigned to get over to the town quickly, his associates in Canterlot probably giggling at his misfortune of being stuck with such an awful job. Regardless, he went to the Royal University of Canterlot to be trained in ways to deal with irrigation, the griffon well qualified to deal with a mere water shortage. In just a few mere moments of searching, he stumbled upon a literal oasis on the outskirts of the city. "There isn't any natural water for miles here. The only way anything could grow here would be if..." the griffon explained aloud to himself, his voice sounding exceptionally as he came to a realization. "Unless the system was leaking water," he added, the griffon spotting a bolt missing on the main irrigation pipe for the town, a thick stream of water continuously pouring out of the system. Bushes were practically sprouting out of the expensive mistake, the griffon in awe of how simple and wasteful this problem was. "Wow, one bolt missing and they literally waste thousands of units of water," he growled, getting called across Equestria to fix a simple bolt. He slipped a black talon into the large brown bag he was carrying and pulled out a bolt and his trusty crescent wrench. The large tool gleamed brillaintly in the sun as it proudly showed off it's master craftmanship to the griffon, the spanner bouncing the bright sunlight right back into his face as he screwed the bolt in. And just like that, the problem was solved, an obnoxiously long flight over a giant lake and the Everfree Forest the only things Gerrard wanting to remember about the whole trip. He slipped his special wrench into his bag and tried to collect his thoughts, the griffon trying not to think of ways to get back at his associates. "I've got to salvage this trip somehow. Maybe there is something redeeming about this town?" he commented with a sigh, Gerrard looking back towards town. His keen eyes spotted a few buildings of questionable craftsmanship, clearly created with inferior wood, not that there were any trees for what felt like a hundred miles anyway. His thoughts would soon be realized as he saw the silhouette on a large figure approaching his general direction, the stranger holding something.