The not-so-great Debate (Bellosh; Open)

[Blueblood]

Every morning, without fail, the Emperor of the Griffons would rise early to scrub the front of his palace clean from all the soot. This was not a very taxing task, given that the entire facade consisted only of a cafe window and a second floor balcony, and he usually had it done before breakfast. The late fall weather had moved in, and in the chill of the early morning, Norton Breakbeak's breath hung in small steamclouds in the air behind him as he winged his way up and down with the scrub brush. In about 15 minutes, the job was done, and he headed back through the balcony window to ready himself to meet his subjects.

Half of royalty was spectacle, and Emperor Breakbeak was nothing if not one. An Aquellian Marine Officer's uniform formed the base of his Imperial regalia, which was exaggerated by various pawn shop props, including an oversized and very feathered tricorn hat, a bright purple sash, a gleaming saber, oversized shoulder epaulettes, and racks of medals from various organizations across Equestria. After pinning the last of these (Best in Breed, Manehattan Dog show) with care upon his breast, he turned his attention to the coup de gras of the ensemble; the curling and waxing of a truly magnificent mustache.

At last confident that he could meet his subjects without embarrassment, the griffon went downstairs to order his habitual breakfast from the cafe below his rooms.

"G'morning, your majesty." The proprietor had long since learned to humor his lodger; for all his eccentricity, Norton was the best tenant the pony had ever had.

"A very good morning indeed, my dear subject. Do you know why?" The Emperor practically preened as he sat down, taking his coffee and looking over the city newspaper.

"Erm, can't say I do, for this morning particular."

"Ah, I should have told you, then. This morning, the primary representative of that Pretender Republic in Talonopolis," He spoke the words with all the contempt he thought they deserved, "Morianna Razorclaw, will be coming into town. I have long wished to meet her in person, and now I shall, in public debate, where my legitimate claims to government shall finally be demonstrated. At least," Norton gave a small, smug smile, "They will be shown superior to hers."

Indeed, the proprietor had been able to recall that name. Ever since his quiet border had suddenly declared himself Emperor in the Local paper, almost every other day the griffon had been writing articles in response to Morianna Razorclaw's editorials, lectures, and books of political philosophy. Norton Breakbeak was, in fact, her most vocal critic, and he certainly was not afraid to be provocative. The cafe owner doubted, however, that she would actually condescend to debate the 'Emperor' since, well...

"Are you sure she'll, ah, keep her appointment?"

No doubt had ever crossed Emperor Breakbeak's mind. "Naturally; I will have the editor of the local paper give my challenge to her in person; and the Impresario of the local concert hall has lent the use of his building for the public good. Loyal subjects, both." Which was to say, neither of them had outright laughed in his face when he made the request. Both were actually growing quite fond of having the 'Emperor' around, and wanted to see how much fun they could milk out of the situation.

The only question was, did Morianna Razorclaw have the same sense of fun?

Probably not, but it should be a good show, and they were hard to come by in Breakbeak City.

[Bellosh]

Prof. Morianna Razorclaw outright laughed in the newspaper editor’s face when he issued a challenge from the self-styled Emperor of Aquellia to debate him face-to-face. The Professor came to Beakbreak City today in advance of a very important ceremony; the day after tomorrow, a banquet would be held in honor of the one-year anniversary of the beginning of construction on the railroad between Talonpolis and Beakbreak. Prof. Razorclaw as such would attend this banquet as a very important dignitary of Aquellia.

Obviously, the elder griffoness knew very much about the fool who dared challenge her to this latest contest of words. As “Emperor” Norton Breakbeak repeatedly opposed Morianna’s opinions and philosophies through the written word, it was only natural of her to order her operatives in the Aquellian intelligence service to dig up as much dirt on him as they could. Thus, Morianna knew that Norton Breakbeak had once been an Aquellian Marine before getting a medical discharge, after which he lived quietly in Equestria for a few years before suddenly declaring himself Emperor. No clear evidence of mental illness on Norton’s part had ever been uncovered, but every indication suggested that no one in the Emperor’s “capital city” took him seriously… and the Professor relished in slandering the good griffon’s name here and there.

For a few moments after receiving Breakbeak’s challenge, Prof. Razorclaw contemplated not accepting it at all. Why give this pretender any more legitimacy by responding to his summons like a mongrel pup? But then, the aged griffoness remembered that she had never once declined an opportunity to debate anybody concerning matters of grave importance; to thus do so now would be perceived by the public as an act of weakness.

Half an hour later, Morianna Razorclaw stood in all her fearsome glory on the stage of the local opera house. As always, the Professor dressed in her overly fancy blue coat and accompanying white cravat. With her wood cane also at her sign, Morianna confidently believed that she looked very much an avatar for Aquellian dignity as she awaited her opponent.....

[Blueblood]

It had taken all of the editor's self-control to keep a straight face after the Morianna Razorclaw had actually accepted the challenge from their own Norton Breakbeak. While he was indulgently fond of the griffon as a steady source of stories, he realized that the Aquellian dignitary really had no reason other than her own prestige to actually come and debate him.

However, now that she was going to, it was going to be a great day! Finally, after so many years on a paper hardly read at all outside his own little city, things of wide importance would be reported here in Breakbeak city!

~

"POP-corn, PEA-nuts, ICE cold LEMONade!"

The enterprising citizens of Breakbeak city had their own way of doing things. Dignity, reticence, and awe were not exactly elements of their native chemistry. The whole city had been founded on industry and trade, and pretty much nothing else. They held nothing sacred, and took whatever opportunity of business that presented itself. Hence, the concert hall was filled with concessionnaires and various kind of hustlers selling bric-a-brac off of cardboard shelves hung around their necks.

As anomalous as this atmosphere was to a political debate, it wasn't quite so incongruous as the venue itself. That there was such a thing as a concert house in Breakbeak city was mostly due to a long-abandoned effort to raise the cultural consciousness of the local population. After such a task was deemed hopeless, a half-decorated bit of civic architecture fell into the hands of the city council, who weren't entirely sure what to do with it. It became more or less a second town hall, where various kinds of events were hosted and shows were performed. As there was little else to do most evenings, the house was usually packed.

Today was no exception. Newspaper ads and the rumor mill had spread the word: "The Emperor's actually going to have a debate!" And so the whole city, plus a few visitors that had arrived for the station ceremony, came out to see the eccentric perform.

When Norton entered onto the stage, dressed in all his 'finery', one wag from the stalls called out, "Three cheers for the Emp'ror of Colney 'Sylum!" And quite a few actually did cheer, though whether in sincerity or mockery it was hard to tell.

The 'Emperor' gave a gracious bow to his audience, as if they were all behaving like properly loyal subjects, which only increased the cheers and laughter. Disregarding the noise, he took his own podium, giving his opponent a salute with his saber. Motley though his finery was, he took good care of it; the polished sword sparkled in the light through the windows.

The Impresario was sitting in the orchestra pit, and would act as moderator in this event, being pretty much game for everything. He too to his hooves, calling out for silence before beginning, which took a few minutes. "Right, for the first of the Breakbeak-Razorclaw exhibitions, the home team has given first speech to the visitor, is that correct?"

Norton gave a grave nod. "That is indeed correct; you may address the first question to her."

"Right. Each speech on the questions will be followed by a rebuttal, in which the other side will be allowed to outline their own position, followed by a set of rejoinders. The first question is to you, Madame Razorclaw; to what extent is a government to be bound by Honor?" It was hardly a difficult question; for the fierce griffons, honor was one of the first concepts they would grasp as fletchlings, and was one of the first ideals they would strive for. Naturally, the famous pragmatist would hardly be at a loss for words concerning that...

[RarityDash]

Brenda Razorclaw found herself very deeply confused and irritated as she sat in a balcony seat in a balcony seat in the Beakbreak City concert hall. Much of the irritation came from the simple fact of being in Beakbreak City; it was a garbage town, polluted in every sense of the word--she hadn't a clue how increased ground trade with the craven scum of the city would be a boon to the republic, not when Beakbreak already was a hotbed for air shipping. Alas, Brenda's aunt, the esteemed Professor Morianna Razorclaw, evidently disagreed as she had decided it worth her time to grace this meaningless banquet with her appearance. Brenda didn't truly see the point, but she had agreed to accompany her aunt when she suggested it was time for her, the celebrated battle princess of the Republic, to be there for the event as well.

That did not, however, explain why the young Aquellian Major was sitting in this concert hall nor did it in fact explain the root of the better part of her irritation and all of her confusion. Brenda had awoken that morning to notice that her favored aunt had agreed to a wholly meaningless debate against some clinically deranged ne'er-do-well. The very idea that her important aunt would waste even a second of her valuable time on this loon was completely confounding to the marine, but she had little choice but to attend the ridiculous farce; if her aunt was to make a show of herself in this public arena for this "debate", it was only proper Brenda was there to lend support. At least she supposed it was proper; she wasn't truly sure when the task at hand was akin to slaughtering a clown.

Nevertheless, Brenda was here and she expected to at least hear her aunt speak some intelligent words. She was dressed in lightweight red plate armor and a black cape with a high feather collar, sitting alone in her balcony with an displeased look on her face. Before long, the complete joke that was the Beakbreak concert hall settled down and the first question was given to aunt Morianna. Governments bound by honor? This was silliness. Honor was an intangible thing, best saved only for the battlefields of fools. A government's place was to act toward the benefit of itself and those within it. The bounds of honor had no bearing on it. It was a fool's question in the young Major's eyes, but she anticipated the answers it would receive all the same.

​

[PyroBlaze]

Xan made his way through the town, looking around at the buildings. This place wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but he had a job to do. Xan's next target was somewhere in this dump of a city, and his client really wanted to have the item he was hired to steal, so Xan decided to tough it out until the job was done. He went past a newspaper stand, one thing on the papers catching his eye. Xan glanced around and saw no one looking in his direction, so he grabbed one of the papers and made his way to a secluded spot before reading the paper. "Hmm, so these two are going to debate at the opera house? That might be interesting." Xan said to himself, leaving the paper behind as he took off towards the opera house. "The job can wait. That item's not going anywhere anytime soon." Xan said as he flew towards the house, eventually reaching his destination after a bit of searching. He walked in and took a seat near the back of the crowd before examining the two griffons on the stage. Xan examined the female one, Razorclaw apparently, closely. He saw that she seemed like a crafty individual, she would have no trouble in a debate. Her opponent, the so-called emperor, didn't look quite as suited for a debate setting. In fact, he looked a little out of it, despite his well kept equipment. Xan snorted at the question being asked about honor. "Honor in the government? Yeah right. Who cares about honor anyways?" Xan said to himself from under the hood of his cloak, which was hiding most of his face. He was in a darker part of the row, so he almost completely blended in with the shadows.

[Bellosh]

Prof. Morianna Razorclaw formulated a theory as to why a good chunk of Beakbreak City turned out to this comedic farce of a debate. Namely, that this place was perhaps the most dreary locale in the entire known world. The only things putting Beakbreak on the map were airships, dingy industry, and all the hibernation smoke billowing from the Dragon Peaks to the north. Living in such a dreary place, it’s no wonder that ponies and griffons alike would turn out on a weekend to watch their parody of a champion take on a seasoned representative of the Aquellian Republic.

The Professor didn’t move a muscle as the ‘Emperor’ made his grand entrance; she felt no need to show any sign of respect either towards her opponent or to the gathered audience. She just watched Norton Breakbeak from her podium in a stoic silence; unflinching like a bird of prey spying on its future meal. Mr. Breakbeak can bow and salute all he wanted to, but the crowd will shortly see how such displays are ultimately meaningless when facing an actual adversary. Morianna looked away from the clown only once to observe her valued niece Brenda Razorclaw upon a balcony; the elder griffoness duly sensed the other’s disapproval of this event, but like a good obedient child, didn’t dare question the aunt’s decision.

"Right. Each speech on the questions will be followed by a rebuttal, in which the other side will be allowed to outline their own position, followed by a set of rejoinders. The first question is to you, Madame Razorclaw; to what extent is a government to be bound by Honor?"

A curious and fascinating first question, for it did more to reveal the Impresario’s biases than display any semblance of reality. Apparently, this gentlecolt was one of those souls who believed in the stereotype of griffonkind placing the concept of Honor on a high pedestal. That griffons obsessed over their respectability and standing in society to the exclusion of most other things. The truth of the matter was that to his disappointment, griffons did not honor Honor anymore than ponies did…assuming, that was, one defined Honor in the way that the Impresario did. Words were rather funny things; their definitions always changing to suit any purpose imaginable. Today, the ‘Emperor’ will learn how the meaning of words can so easily be twisted to his disadvantage.

For several seconds after the question was asked, Prof. Razorclaw deliberately stayed silent. Far from not knowing what to say, the Professor intended the awkward silence to unsettle her most vocal of critics. Then without warning, she sprang to life with a reply aimed squarely at the ‘Emperor’; “There is only one way for a government to possess honor. That way, is to do its job without fail. A government that is incapable of doing what needs to be done, to defend against enemies foreign and domestic, to uphold law and order through decisive punishment of the guilty, and to ensure the supremacy of the State, is a government that is not worthy of respect. A government plagued by incompetence, and a senseless adherence to irrational principles, is not one able to inspire obedience in its subjects.”

At this point, Morianna finally turned her attention towards the audiences. Mr. Breakbeak may be the most outspoken critic of the current status quo in Aquellia, but the Professor regarded her true philosophical nemesis to be someone far above Breakbeak’s stature. Morianna did not come here to this pitiful concert hall just to slaughter a witless beast who kept getting in her way, but to insidiously remind the citizens of Beakbreak City of the ultimate inferiority of Equestria’s preferred model for governance; “A ruler that falters time and time again; who rather than implement lasting solutions to enemies, elects to let a future generation inherit the threat when it inevitably returns, cannot be respected. A ruler who allows outlaws to roam wild and free, to let them enslave towns as they please, and then allows them to escape into the night without even a reprimand, cannot be respected. A ruler that places blind faith in hope, who always reacts instead of taking the initiative, and so fails to prevent suffering... absolutely cannot be respected”

“A government that fails to prevent chaos and violence…” a twisted smile formed on Morianna’s aged face for everybody to see; “Is one that lacks Honor.” Just like a true politician, Prof. Razorclaw meandered off on her own talking points rather than address the specific question asked of her.....

[Blueblood]

A successful clown is alike to the insane in this respect: that both take themselves very seriously. Norton Breakbeak may have dressed like a mountebank Emperor, but if he had merely strutted and put on showy airs, it is likely that nopony in the extremely prosaic community of Breakbeak City would have thought him worth a moment's attention. And indeed, at first he had gotten none, but the pertinacity of his lunatic convictions had eventually earned him, if not respect, at least the captive audience of his peers.

Norton was akin to the lunatic also in his utter lack of fear. He met Morianna's predatory gaze without flinching, as if she were no more than a sparrow with delusions of grandeur (a rich sentiment from him!) If he could sense the contempt of Brenda in the stands, he didn't feel intimidated by it, either. Nor did the rowdy crowd, who still saw him more as a performing artist than any kind of serious political thinker, shake the griffon one iota. If it had, he might have become sane, and the game would have been up.

On the other hand, while Norton Breakbeak was as firm as ever in his conviction that the citizens should bow in deference to their Emperor, he was aware of the material fact that they didn't. With care and planning, therefore, he had set events in motion to confer legitimacy upon him. This debate was one of them, and Professor Ravenclaw had played right into it.

After all, if no one took Norton seriously, he had nothing to lose by showing up.

He remained respectfully silent behind his podium as his opponent made her opening constructive, a slight smile playing along his lips. He almost mouthed along to the words, so familiar had they become to him by now. The second advantage accruing to him, as a political nonentity, was that 100% of his time and attention in preparation had been to attack his opponent, and not absent actors. And the disadvantage of always going along one's own talking points is that your opponent knows exactly what you are going to say...

Morianna had finished her speech, and now the moderator looked to Norton for his rebuttal. The griffon began without hesitation, in a stentorian voice: "My distinguished opponent has set the definition of honor to be that of 'Not Failing,' which is to say that a government is bound never to fail. As an ideal, that is inspiring, nay, it is literally perfection itself. But!" He slammed his bunched claws into the podium for emphasis, sweeping his gaze over the audience. "We live in a world of practical realities! Is perfection rational in such? I ask you, as ponies and griffons in touch with reality, what engineer ever tried to sell you a failproof machine, that was not deluded or trying to make a sucker out of you?"

Many in the audience were connected with industry and mechanics, and that did manage to get a little laugh out of them. The Emperor was smiling now; the unexpected turn was the triumph of the orator, and he meant to capitalize on his. "I would ask for a working definition for a working government! Government is not a machine built solely for a task, but an institution of living beings made for the functioning of the State. As all living beings have a force within themselves that resists the decay that attacks a corpse, so all institutions must have a force that resists degradation and corruption. And such is Honor!" The griffon spoke with energy, indeed, as one without restraint. "That conviction which rejects any thing or action counted unworthy of itself; yes, a government is bound to it like a tree to its roots, as a thing without which, it will die."

From the soaring heights of speech, he seemed to drop back down to perch upon the podium, and his next remark was to his opponent, colloquially, and with a pleasant smile: "But if my opponent does not think the moderator's question worth her attention, perhaps she might answer mine." He spread his claws in a bright-eyed gesture. "Is this not a great city?"

[RarityDash]

Brenda smirked as she listened to her aunt's perfect answer to the ridiculous question. Aunt Morianna truly had a way with words. It truly never ceased to amaze. She had of course learned how to speak well publicly herself, but she couldn't even begin to compare to the professor in terms of pure eloquence. Her words held a power to them, a power that could compel others with far greater ease than even the very finest Rockwington forged blades. Just listening to her speak was proof enough that Brenda was still young and had much to learn. They way she fully answered the question and then turned it around to criticize the inept rulers of the far too weak pony kingdom was simply brilliant. Brenda was left clapping her talons together as Morianna passed the question back toward her opponent.

The rebuttal then came. Brenda narrowed her eyes as the other griffon spoke. As clowns went, she had to say this one was hardly very entertaining. Perhaps to some extent, he could draw a laugh with his shoddy attempt at mangling of her aunt's words, but mostly he proved to be a simple irritant. Of course an engineer didn't sell to others a fail proof machine. No, the engineer strove to engineer a fail proof machine, even while knowing it an ideal rather than a feasible goal. All masters of an art wanted to craft perfection; Brenda knew this well from her times in the smiths and from the collection she had gathered. Perfection was and needed to be the goal sought by anyone who wished to make something. So it was with governments. Striving to create a government that did not fail was a promise that needed always to be made by any who considered herself a leader of others. There was a difference between simple idealism and working always toward the ideal. Morianna Razorclaw was not some naive fool who considered her Aquellia to be some infallible machine. Regardless, it was foolish weakness to abandon the pursuit of perfection upon realizing it cannot be attained. Brenda found herself unable to let this idiocy slide.

"Foolishness! Does an engineer sell machines at all? Not in my experience. An engineer designs the machine, just as a sword smith forges a blade. No true master smith has ever sought to create a sword that simply cut, just as no great engineer has ever sought to design a machine that simply functioned. No great architect of government should thus ever design a system after anything less than the picture of ideal! Just because the true ideal is not something that can be realistically acquired does not make it useless to pursue. It is not naivety, but rather the path toward greatness! To create a government that does not fail should be the ultimate goal of any in power, regardless of the costs whatever they may be," Brenda spoke out loudly from her balcony. Sure, her aunt could likely handle this clown's ridiculous comments, but she couldn't help but speak out.

A number of meaningless lines followed. The analogy crafted was especially bizarre. What do corpses care of their decay? It's a necessary part of the system that was life. The force that acted against it was a meaningless thing that just acted against the inevitable natural process. Was that was honor was, an aberration that only stood in the way of the natural progression of a government serving to do as it should? Brenda would argue it fit, but it didn't ultimately suit the argument of the one who spoke it. His words were simple mad ravings, meant only to entice the crowd of simpletons gathered there. Ultimately he made this all the more clear by ending on a leading question for Aunt Morianna. Brenda pulsed with anger. She was sure her outbursts of the day had only just begun.

​

[PyroBlaze]

Xan watched and listened as Razorclaw spoke, not really answering the question. Xan snorted a quiet laugh. "Spoken like a true politician." Xan joked to himself. According to her, none of the governments had honor. None of them had managed to stop him since he had escaped prison back in Equestria. Not that he had been obvious about his crimes, but even when he returns to the same towns, he doesn't find security any harder to get around than before. Then Breakbeak started talking, not making much sense with his analogies. "Since when do engineers sell anything? They design stuff, but they're not the ones to sell it to the public." Xan said as a voice from above him on the balcony said roughly the same thing as him to start with. Xan furrowed his brow as Breakbeak continued. He still wasn't making much sense, but it's not like Xan cared that much about government anyways. Due to his job and choices, Xan lived in opposition of every government he had encountered through his travels. Xan wanted to laugh at Breakbeak's question, but held it in since most of the audience members were residents and he didn't want to draw hostile attention to himself, especially before completing the job he had come to complete in the first place. "What do matters of her personal opinion about this city have to do with government? Isn't that what you came to debate about?" Xan called from the shadows of his position to the stage. He may not have wanted hostile attention, but any other kind was fine while he was watching the two griffons debate.

[Bellosh]

.....Did Mr. Breakbeak really claim just now that an engineer would never be stupid enough to advertise a failproof product? Surely, the Professor’s opponent must realize how engineers of all people needed to be extremely meticulous in their line of work? Griffons and ponies alike depended on the work of engineers to not break down and fail, for in many instances, the result of a design flaw could be catastrophic. Morianna maintained the composure to remain blank-faced, but her younger niece couldn’t hold back a vocal rebuttal. The elder griffoness didn’t acknowledge Brenda’s outburst save for the faintest smile.

If nothing else though, Morianna Razorclaw gave the ‘Emperor’ credit for also grasping one of the hidden secrets of debating: that people cared more for amusing witticisms and being kissed-up to than actual logic. In fact, quite a few cheers rang out from the crowd with that last remark from Norton Breakbeak. To the genius mind of Prof. Razorclaw, it almost seemed like the entire point of Mr. Breakbeak’s charade is to build up his name recognition in preparation for a future mayoral campaign.

There was absolutely no way that the back-and-forth between the two debaters would even begin to budge the status quo existing in the Aquellian Republic’s political structure; since Mori’s underlings never found any evidence of insanity on Breakbeak’s part, she assumed that her so-called adversary had to know of this fundamental, unshakable reality. But this debate being a great big publicity stunt to increase Mr. Breakbeak’s popularity; now that seemed a highly logical theory. It’d explain why he doesn’t simply return to his native country to advocate for his right to rule.

As long as noise uttered out of the gentlegriffon’s beak however, the Professor could keep on carrying our her agenda; to convince the residents of Beakbreak City of the utter inadequacy of the Equestrian royal government. If Morianna repeated her accusations ad nauseum without being grossly offensive, ponies would sooner or later accept it as unquestioned fact. That, of course, was a basic tenet of successful propaganda.

There was no way Mori would win answering that last question; an affirmative would simply be dismissed as a phony me-too response by the audience. Since she wasn’t here to win over the hearts and minds of the crowd so much as educate them and make them question their faith in the Equestrian monarchy, the Professor elected to outright ignore it. “So…” she now rubbed her left upper arm with a claw from the other side, squinting her eyes in Norton’s direction as if in contemplation; “You believe that an engineer shouldn’t bother designing a failproof machine.” It wasn’t Norton's exact words, but could be seen as the logical conclusion to his prior claim. “Let’s then look at two Airships: Airship A, and Airship B.”

“Airship A is built by a group of engineers and factory workers, who believe that absolutely no design flaws should be tolerated. Airship B is constructed by a group who doesn’t value perfection, assuming that if it is impossible to obtain, it’s simply not worth bothering with at LL. Now, what happens to these two airships? Airship A goes on to fly for twenty years, before receiving an honorable decommissioning in Beakbreak City’s renowned scrap yards. Airship B…” here, Morianna suddenly burst to life by extending her arm at Mr. Breakbeak and deafening the crowd with a sudden talon snap; “Crashes horrifically on its maiden voyage, gruesomely killing all unable to escape.”

Prof. Razorclaw turned back to the crowd with a grin that some foolish souls could have mistaken for a sign of malice; “I now ask of you; what type of government do you believe more worthy of your allegiance? One that gives guileless idealism more importance than preventing tragedies, like the crashing of Airship B? Or one that ruthlessly exterminates weakness at every opportunity; one that would proudly ride on Airship A? I’m proud to say, that I come from the country that values the latter.....”

Off in the crowd, good ole’ Falco Kestrelson was really enjoying the show that his buddy Norton was putting on. Sure, it was extremely doubtful that Aquellia’s ruling class could be toppled, or that it even needed to be toppled in the first place. With the first vague question, it didn’t give Norton much of a chance yet to explain why he should be crowned as the Emperor of Aquellia. But hey, Falco liked the thought of one day having a head of state for a friend!

As for that Morianna Razorclaw lady, Mr. Kestrelson found her extremely unnerving.....

[Blueblood]

Well, it hadn't taken long to bring out the hecklers. Some orators might have been irked at the intrusion, but not Norton Breakbeak. He welcomed it, in fact; it suited the city he had come to call his own. These were rough, salt-of-the-earth type ponies and griffons, which meant that heir heads were full of buried and subtle ideas. One of these was that it was a fine sight to see one brave fighter squaring off against three. There was something of chivalry in it, a sentiment of courage and solidarity with the underdog. The Emperor was not quite enough of a poet to adequately explain it, but he was enough of a democrat to sympathize with it.

The gestures of oratory are derived from those of war. Norton took a stance on his podium, like one prepared to defend a bridgehead against an army. "Your supporter has said that the path to greatness is to adhere to an impossible ideal; very well, but in that case I should like to know what you mean by lecturing us to abandon 'foolish' ideals. If neither practicality nor honor can be the test, can there be any we can use?" That really was a nice break for Norton, actually; whether or not Morianna acknowledged her supporter, it gave him the opportunity to present her arguments in a self-contradictory manner.

Another heckler in the crowd chimed in, to the griffon's delight. "Ah, but what is government but that which makes the state function? Is not therefore the greatness of the State a vindication of its philosophy?" Morianna may not have answered the question yet, but The Emperor wanted it kept in play.

And now Morianna was speaking again, not to the question, but again on her own talking points. "It is a very gratifying thing to know that the griffons are under a republic that supports the failproof things! Why, only last month I was reading of the inescapable prison in Talonopolis, which, alas, had a recent high-profile breakout..." That got howls of laughter from those who followed the international news, not that Aquellia hand't gone to great lengths to keep a media silence on 'the Pathfinder Incident.' "There never was anything built or designed that was immune to failure. Praise Airship A truthfully as you please; I won't board if you don't have enough escape boats." More laughter.

"But talking of success or failure, especially in metaphor, is only begging the question of why we care either way. What ultimately drives, not only the engineer designing an airship, but the mechanic who maintains, and the captain who flies it? They may survive the crash, but their honor would not. That is my point." He snapped his fingers in a repetition and semi-mockery of his opponent's gesture, again silencing the crowd. "A failure in honor subsumes any success in design, for our honor lies at the roots of all our doings, and drives us to make the effort. As it is in machinery, so it is in society. A government without honor in action will fail, and thus the form of government must be one in which its honor may be avenged upon itself. This is why our ancestors concentrated it in the form and person of the Emperor, and that is why He now stands before you today." That actually got some applause. He'd been waiting for the opportunity to stake his case, and while he may not have justified his person as Emperor, he had at least outlined the idea of the Emperor, as opposed to the current Republic.

Of course, to say that this idea got across might be overestimating the philosophical acuity of the peanut gallery...

[RarityDash]

Brenda was happy to see she was not the only in the crowd speaking out. She was not used to these sorts of debates, and didn't truthfully know what was proper. It seemed outbursts were expected however, as neither Aunt Morianna or the clown bat an eye. Morianna didn't directly address her comment, but did in a manner build off of it, laying out a brilliantly constructed example of their point. It was so very simple, but that's where the brilliance was. It skewered her opponent and revealed him for the fool he truly was.

Of course, that fool would continue to make foolish utterances. He responded to Brenda's comments directly with an attempt to catch her aunt in a nonexistent contradiction. This would have been irritating on its own, but then his comments touched a very personal nerve. This clown just had to mention that, did he? He had to highlight that blight, that failure, that costly mistake for which she was endlessly regretful. Just the fact that he'd bring such an unsavory matter up and wave it in Aunt Morianna's face made Brenda seethe with rage. Her right claw went to her belt instinctively, looking for a sword that wasn't there. Clenching her talons tightly, she snarled with contempt.

The Pit. It had been commissioned and designed to be an inescapable prison for Aquellia's very worst. It was a place of shame, build deep under the ground where no self respecting griffon would ever go. There, the wings would be chemically disabled so that prisoners could not fly free. No, they would have to stay and perform miserable and meaningless labor like the lowly worms they were. It had been a well designed and impressive place, not something to mettle with... but by accident certain things had revealed themselves which had reached Brenda and ultimately triggered her greed. An ancient ruin had been discovered, connected to where the pit had been constructed, and being the purveyor of relics of the past she was, Brenda quickly became obsessed with excavating it. Her great failure was in who she had decided to conspire with. She had included in her planning one of her more deranged cousins and a certain dim and incapable Captain Gavin Stormwing. Lazy, incompetent and addled in the head, these fools had delegated to the prisoners more than they should have. They were reckless and as a result opportunities were allowed that never should have been. A few simple, stupid mistakes had ended up costing Brenda so very much.

And now this ridiculous clown was using Brenda's foible as a point against her favored Aunt. It was insufferable, especially as he went on to try and tie it back into his overall point about honor. It became increasingly clear Brenda wasn't going to be able to keep her beak shut this day. It touched too personally on her. Perhaps she was wrong to let this fool cut at her so deeply with his words, but she was not one to let him try and trample over aunt Morianna before an eager crowd.

"Your point regarding the airship is a fair one; the crew that maintains and flies the craft is of equal or perhaps even greater importance than the engineer. The point you seem to be missing is that perfection is an ideal ever single one of these should make efforts to strive toward if true greatness is desired! It is not just those who make the laws in a government who should aim toward the ideal, but those at every level who enforce them. In doing so, that airship, that government, it will not fail. A good leader cannot be undervalued, but the truest strength of any force ultimately is determined by the mettle of each individual... while even the greatest master's finest blade is as good as useless in the claws of a fool," Brenda argued bitterly in a loud voice.

"The matter of the Pit, which you have need to draw attention to, is such a case where failure only resulted when reckless decisions were made by those on many levels," she continued, giving a growl. "Absolutely nothing of it touches into the subject of that which is commonly referred to as honor--a foolish abstract concocted by cowards to justify their cowardice. What matters is not what is honorable, but what produces results!"

​

[Bellosh]

Prof. Razorclaw anticipated that Norton Breakbeak would bring up the Helm Affair; that comedy of errors which ultimately resulted in the escape of two thieves from the most inescapable prison in the known world. Said thieves ultimately went on the steal the Helm of Commander Hurricane and seek refuge in Equestria. Being so intimately connected with the Helm Affair, Brenda predictably lashed out again at Aunt Mori’s opponent. Just as long as her niece didn’t say anything rash, the Professor would not restrain Brenda from interjecting as she saw fit.

The elder griffoness planned to return to the subject of imprisonment in a moment, but first came the opportune moment to mock the ‘Emperor’ now that he started making a case for himself. “Tsk… tsk… tsk…” she chastised, wagging a talon at Mr. Breakbeak’s direction; “Surely if you want to be Emperor of Aquelliia, you’d have the courage... to reside in the country you wish to rule one day?” That smug look on Mori’s face indicated just how much she wanted to get to the elephant in the room; a wannabe Aquellian emperor who lived in Equestria instead of Aquellia. Judging by the following rude jeers made at Norton by some of the more hostile audience members, the Professor knew she hit a sweet spot.

Since Morianna Razorclaw did not come here to argue against Mr. Breakbeak’s supposed right to rule however, she got back to the subject she prefered to talk about; the incompetence of Equestrian leadership. “My opponent is correct,” Mori refused to deny, since her government did acknowledged that the incident occurred, despite refusing to release any specific details; “Two burglars escaped from our highest security prison… two… burglars. Considering all the murderers, and other violent and despicable criminals, that remain incarcerated in the Pit, the evidence is clear that the Talonopolis Prison Authority remains the envy of the world, in keeping felons away from society.”

“However,” the cunning griffoness reminded her audience, going in for yet another kill; “I’m afraid that not all rulers possess the same enthusiasm for effective incarceration. A ruler, one we all know of, saw fit to employ many creative strategies to imprison many heinous foes; foes so vile and dangerous that the world is better rid of them... completely. But in every case, this ruler I speak of has REFUSED to do what needs to be done, to permanently rid our earth of evil. Doesn’t it get tiring, reading your newspapers day after day, only to find out that a god of chaos escaped from a forgotten statute, or that a black-hearted dictator broke free of his snowbound seal? Why let these heinous fiends remain on this earth, when their crimes prove that they will NEVER co-exist with free beings? Why does this country tolerate such BLATANT injustice, and why does it not follow the example of a republic that makes every effort, to crush violence and disorder?”

The further Morianna went, the more “indignant” sounding her questions became. By the time her fiery tirade ended, an eerie chill had descended on the opera house, and the Professor soothed her voice into a cold and menacing tone; “How… pray thee… can a ruler who treats the most ruthless villains history has ever known with leniency… be considered honorable?”

[PyroBlaze]

Xan shrugged slightly at the emperor's response to what he had called out. He knew he was basically hidden from anyone not close to him, but he still made body movements as a response. Xan had never cared much for the government, and had especially not liked any of them. His opinion of them was typically indifferent, since they didn't seem to do much to prevent his thefts. He had never been to the griffon kingdom, but he was wanting to less and less due to their claims of lasting solutions to crime and nearly-inescapable prisons. Xan smiled to himself at what was being said. "I bet they have no idea of who is among them." Xan said quietly, referring to himself. Xan couldn't suppress a chuckle when the matter of the inescapable prison having a break-out. "Not so inescapable then, is it?" Xan said to himself as he kept listening to the proceedings. This was turning out to be interesting to listen to, especially Razorclaw. Xan liked her approach to things, even if he did want the problems to not affect him as much. If lasting solutions did come into play, it would make his job much harder to do. He smiled at the thought of all the villains Celestia had basically swept under the rug instead of dealing with. Xan would solve his problems as they came up, he wouldn't just sweep them away and wait for them to resurface. Celestia was too merciful. Xan knew this, and capitalized on it. He knew that the worst she is likely to sentence him to would be time in prison, which he would likely just sneak away from early on in his sentence. This was largely the reason he liked to keep his work inside Equestria's borders, the leniency that Celestia displays.

[Blueblood]

By now, the moderator/impresario felt that he had very nearly lost control of events, at least in so far as the debate was shaping up. Murmurs and heckling from the crowds were one thing, but that clear and ringing voice from the rafters was shouting in paragraphs! It was as if a third fighter had entered the fray, and now the "hometown hero" was facing two-to-one odds. Still, the pony knew Norton to be a "game 'un," as they said here, and in any case, it made for a good show.

And he could still manage it, if he decided to abandon airs of formality. Calling out in a ringing voice, more like a circus ringmaster than a debate moderator, "And now that we've established our basis, the two of you will thu-rash out the proper way of administering justice!" There were cheers, more on principle than anything else. Besides, quite a few among the audience were relieved to draw their attention away from Professor Razorclaw. There was something off-putting about her intensity that clung about her obsession...

Norton Breakbeak, meanwhile, was standing adamant, having caught sight of a familiar face in the stands. He considered Falco Kestrelton as a true loyalist, if only because of his efforts in helping him recover the Imperial Regalia. He knew at least that he had as many supporters in the stands as his opponent, if not more, however silent they may be.

But even if he stood alone, he was not a griffon easily bullied or intimidated. He took first his mysterious opponent in the stands, projecting his voice into and beyond the stalls. "And what makes the mettle of that individual? What keeps a griffon or pony striving for that impossible perfection, when no witness can regard or report his secret corruption or his hidden laziness? You say you care only for results, and think honor an irrelevant abstract; behold the results of ignoring honor! Mistakes do not make themselves in a prison; they are made by administrators greedy for gain and bribes, and guards who nap on the job. To gain results and ignore honor, is to try and grow fruit by ignoring the roots of the tree. This is true of all government, and especially in the administration and support of justice."

Not that the Emperor knew specifics of the whole debacle, but government failure really only came from three sources: hubris, corruption, or laziness. To his mind, the only antidote to such things in oneself was honor.

"And as for you," Norton turned upon the Professor, as one shifting from a defensive posture to an offensive maneuver, "You seem to be under the impression that I, Emperor Norton Breakbeak the First, am in some way a paid spokesgriffon of the Equestrian Court. I am arguing no one's position, and defending no one's honor, but my own." He had considered attributing her delusion to senility, but that would have been a flat and obvious joke, and besides, no one could really believe it. "I will say that we have had no nonsense about such immortals since I assumed my position here." That got a laugh, though it was as much at his expense as it was in sympathy with him. Still, a laughing crowd is an open crowd, as any orator knows, and he had quite a bit to say in order to outline his position on the new question, and defend his stance from before.

"I have enough respect for the common griffon to base my claim of superiority upon the facts, rather than in the face of them. If the Aquellian Republic, as you say, makes every effort to crush violence and disorder, we have a right to ask, are the crushed? One may find the answer on the front page of any newspaper. Such a system of justice as you propose only makes crime risky, but any population sufficiently brave and clever, and I defy you to assert that griffons are neither, will always try to make it pay. And many, as I know, succeed." His eyes were raking over the audience now, and they passed over, by coincidence, Xan. "And to say that the best prison system cannot keep track of two burglars does not help. If I see parts of an airship fall off in flight, it is not a comfort to me to hear that it was the best that you could make. Neither does it inspire me to fund a bigger ship from you; no more to listen to recommendations on what is to be done with immortal malcontents, when mere mortal criminals escape and multiply under your rule!"

The crowd cheered as if it was a good point, but by now Norton had taken enough reading of his enemies to know that mere jeering would not faze them. "But if you want to know why your example is not followed, I can give no better answer than this." He spread his wings and claws in a sweeping and heraldic gesture, "Out of all the cities in the world, which ever cared more for necessity and results, and less for ideals counted foolish? Whose citizens were ever hard and practical, having no care for the dreamy or the inefficient? Why philosopher, behold Breakbeak City!" The audience, feeling somehow that they were being complimented, cheered on cue. "You have come here, face to face with your Utopia... and you could not look it in the eye and call it 'great.' And indeed, it has degraded from its initial promise and glory!" Sorrow was in his voice and eyes as he spoke, as one mourning over a ruined city.

"What holds it in such a ruined state is you philosophy of results, and neglect of honor! Why, I know the most practical of citizens here had not swept their own front porch free of cinders, but for the example of their Emperor." And indeed, it was literally true that some ponies and griffons had left their store and home facades be coated in ash before Norton had come to them and cleaned it first. The undercurrent of murmurings began to underscore the griffon's words. "If you doubt my courage, I at least have more than you, who cannot tell the truth about a city to its face. If you ask me what my proof shall be, I tell you: I shall take this city, my Imperial seat, hold it against all comers and restore its true greatness; so that no one may honorably doubt it." The sheer audacity of this claim temporarily silenced the crowd, and Norton, twirling his moustache, concluded by addressing the impresario's question.

"To return to the matter of justice, my philosophy and policy as Emperor is thus: that Liberty is only granted on condition of one's honor. As one insures the autonomy of a state by not violating the honor of military valor, one insures personal autonomy by not violating the honor of ownership by theft, of life by murder, and such. Any who violate incur a debt of honor, which the state extracts by the mechanism of the law; they system as such, however roughly, is to take the felon and either make an honorable citizen of him again, or else separate him from society until such time as he regains it, indefinitely if necessary." It probably wasn't all that different from Morianna's position, but it was framed and stated in a way and through a lens which she did not adopt. He thought of it merely as common sense. "But it is not enough for the government merely to be coercive against violations of honor; it must support the observance as much as it punishes the breach. Shame will reach further into the dark, even than fear."

[RarityDash]

The response Brenda's words drew was not unexpected, and there was some truth in it. If the point was to backhandedly wave blame at Brenda herself, she couldn't say she saw it like that. Some things were worth deviating from the expected, safe course. What was down there was worth more than that shoddy prison to her and to any with a passing interest in history and its mysteries. The fault was with her mad cousin, with Stormwing, with the myriad of untrustables they roped into the project. If every aspect of it could have plausibly been overseen by Brenda alone, failure would not have happened. The excavation would have been handled properly and without the opportunity for any to escape.

"One who strives toward the ideal of perfection has no such faults. The inner drive for greatness will compel such an individual to make the calls that need to be made and not succumb to weakness or put themselves at undue risk because it's the 'right thing to do," Brenda shouted, contempt clear in her voice. She would help Aunt Morianna reveal this clown for what he was before the day was through. She was not about to stop now. "A soldier who fights compelled by the ideal of greatness will not falter and will do what needs to be done, while the soldier bound by your honor--the 'compassionate' soldier--will invariably find herself full of holes by the day's end. Weakness does not compel hearts, strength does."

She let the loon continue his rambling and weak attempts to deconstruct aunt Morianna's flawless words. when he started talking about the city, however, Brenda couldn't truthfully believe herself. This really was a mad clown. He needed to be made aware of the ridiculousness of his argument, and while Brenda had every confidence her favored aunt could handle it admirably she could not stop herself. Her blood was running too hot.

"Ridiculous! Thoroughly ridiculous. This city is not and has never been 'great'. It sits atop a craggy stretch of nowhere, at the foot of a billowing volcanic region often swarming with ferocious dragons. It was settled only for the convenience--griffon peddlers aiming to sell their wares in pony lands finding their wings tired after the long flight across the desert. It's an isolated, dirty and unremarkable place, loved by no country. Equestrians considers it an eyesore, a blight against their pristine image, useful only as a place to hide away their ugly factories amidst the natural pollution... while Aquellia has only ever had a paltry stake in its pitiful existence," Brenda shot words off rapidly, anger lacing each. "That you would even think to contend that the miserable fate of this remote Equestrian trade city is in any way a result of the policies of Aquellia or Aunt Morianna, reveals you for the raving madgriffon you are. These preposterous utterances of yours are best left to be spouted addled and slurred in this city's forgotten dark alleyways, far far away from where us Razorclaws need to ever pay them mind!"

​

[Bellosh]

Prof. Razorclaw couldn’t care less if Norton Breakbeak somehow turned out to be a stooge of the Equestrian monarchy all along, but she didn’t appreciate the fool’s insinuation that Morianna was actually accusing her of this. Time to give that feeble jester a piece of the Professor’s true feelings! “Listen here you ignoramus,” the griffoness coldy warned, slamming a fist on her podium; “It doesn’t matter how loyal you are to the Equestrian Crown or not; it fails to change the fact that in in the grand scheme of the world… you are nothing but a tiny insignificant bug. I’ve come here today because I deemed it an excellent opportunity to educate the people of Beakbreak City on the nature of true leadership. It is not worth my time to challenge your so-called “right to rule”; in all our minds, we already know with absolute certainty that you will never be crowned a true Emperor. Know this, Breakbeak,” Mori pointed her cane at the gentlegriffon for several seconds as she glared at him; “The moment you stop being useful to my purposes, this debate… ends.”

A few mocking hollers rang out as Morianna told her opponent that he’d never be coronated, but the crowd stayed mostly silent otherwise. With that reminder now taken care of, it was time to the Professor fully address the next question, leaving Mr. Breakbeak’s hometown praising unchallenged. In a way, Brenda was digging herself a grave by so publicly slandering the city that would be hosting a banquet two days from now. It was one thing to insult a simple clown who possessed nothing resembling power, but the younger Razorclaw didn’t seem to realize that there were many arguments where “victory” amounted to more of a loss than a gain; this instance was one of those arguments. Now, Morianna would have to waste precious time behind the scenes to cover for Brenda’s undiplomatic insults, and the child would have to be sternly talked to when this farce ended for the day.

But for the time being, Morianna Razorclaw controlled her visible emotions by not letting any displeasure show, save for a discrete talon signal instructing Brenda to hush about the subject; a secret signal passed down only to those in the Razorclaw family. As long as the crowd remained, she’ll keep endlessly drilling into them all of the Equestrian monarchy’s follies, no matter how provocative her niece became. But first, Mori needed to set herself apart from her opponent concerning the matter of justice. “Justice… is a very easy concept to grasp,” she stated to the audience, briefly tapping her head with a claw to emphasize this fact; “That those who are wronged, receive proper retribution. The law provides instruction for authorities on how to properly punish those found guilty of wrongdoing, and justice is administered in accordance to the law. A ruler that fails to dictate just punishments, one that fails to put every option on the table, is one that will always teeter on the brink of overthrow.”

That same wicked grin from earlier reappeared as the Professor launched into another propagandizing lecture; “Let’s explore further the controversy surrounding that of the freedom of the being known only as Discord, the God of Chaos. Now, any sane government would recognize that due to all his past crimes, and thanks to all the powers he wields, he is a creature too dangerous to attempt redemption on. As long as Discord walks this earth, it is a tragic inevitability that this monster will strike again. Needless to say, if we Aquellians found our own way to subdue that terrible enemy, he would have received the death penalty long ago, preventing a chaotic reign of terror from ever occurring again. Just one simple question for everyone here; do you feel better off with Discord alive and well thanks to the misplaced idealism of certain rulers… or not?”

A creepy contemplative silence from the crowd followed.....

[PyroBlaze]

Xan snorted softly as Breakbeak spoke about there not being attacks from immortals since he "came into power", as it were. He knew it really had nothing to do with Breakbeak arriving in the city. It was more due to the fact that all the "immortal" threats were either gone, reformed, or imprisoned.Then Breakbeak continued, claiming the Griffon's justice system made crime risky, but didn't crush it. This was true, but he had literally never encountered a government that had succeeded in crushing crime. Breakbeak started patronizing the crowd, complimenting the city multiple times. "Seems they both know how to do this whole politician thing." Xan said to himself just before the voice on the balcony spoke up once again, discounting the town. She was obviously letting her emotions get the better of her, and she wasn't making any friends with her evaluation of the city, however true Xan thought it was. Soon enough, Razorclaw was speaking again, basically revealing her agenda at the debate. When she finished, she seemed to give some kind of signal towards the voice in the balcony. Then she continued on, dictating her idea of what justice should be, eventually settling on the topic of Discord. When she left it off with that question, Xan began thinking of the chaotic being that was Discord. Xan certainly enjoyed watching chaos, but he didn't like how you could never really predict it. That was really the only problem he had with Discord, the only thing you can count on him doing is what you don't expect.

[Blueblood]

It was becoming increasingly clear by now that Emperor Breakbeak's best ally in the stands was Brenda Razorclaw. Not so much that she argued upon his side, per se, but she was not the debater her aunt was, not by a long shot. It was easy enough for Norton to reply to her first shot. "The very existence of soldiering is a plain refutation of your stance. Why, one that admired greatness without honor would desert to the enemy if that enemy appeared greater, and so would be worse than useless. Furthermore!" His eyes swept to the guards at the exits, while his mind went back to his own days of service, "Do you think a soldier is taught to respect strength above all else? Not so; he is taught to follow the flag and obey a uniform with more pips on it than his. These may be, if you like, silly things, things which compel by honor, and they are certainly weak things, but the entire discipline of the force relies upon them. Without such honor, armies and the states that rely upon them fall. Pity the Marines, if they are led by those like you!"

He hadn't any way of knowing that Brenda was losing the respect of her military colleagues, but he'd probably hit upon the philosophical reason why. Of course, there was always the theory of personal incompatibility, which the griffoness amply demonstrated soon thereafter. Her denouncement of the city was much harsher than anything Norton would have tried to take credit for; indeed, he only called Breakbeak city dingy because he thought it ought to be better, but she eviscerated it because it couldn't possibly be anything but awful. By comparison, the Emperor must have appeared to be singing its praises, though in actual fact he was criticizing it.

In any case, her diatribe was met with boos and catcalls from the audience, and Norton let them continue for a few moments before putting his claws up for peace. "Peace, citizens, I believe you have made your opinions clear. As for me, I finally see now who you are." The griffon gripped the podium with one claw, sweeping the other in a point towards Brenda, as if he were drawing a sword to challenge her. "Excrescence of history! You perch atop the accomplishments of your ancestors, preening and talking of greatness upon the high towers of Talonopolis, and you know nothing, nothing, about what it was that made them great. What were all the great cities of the world? Talonopolis was a mere perch of nests in a canyon; Canterlot a remote mountain fortress; Rockwington a desert camp of outcast artists! What made them great cities was that the honor of the residents would not accept living in an inferior one. A practical griffoness, of course, would have abandoned them, calling them isolated, dirty, and unremarkable. Well, we shall see. I think more of my people than that."

The crowd was, to put it lightly, riled. Sure, the discussion was philosophical, but it was also passionate and sincere, which made it at least as good as any stage play. The actors were colorful, and just melodramatic enough to suit the popular taste. The impresario had long ago abandoned any thought of moderation, and would probably only speak to goad the debaters if they flagged.

Not that Professor Morianna Razorclaw showed any sign of doing so. The remarks upon himself, he casually ignored, as if they were not worth answering. In reality, they really weren't either way; if she was right, there was nothing he could say, and if she was wrong and Norton stood a chance of being Emperor, then becoming one was the only answer he could give. He was counting on a certain spirit, not unknown in psychology, that only pushed a pony or griffon to do something once that thing had been called 'impossible.' Plus, the fact that she was most unpleasant in her attitude didn't help much with her popularity, not that she cared about that much.

She was still a philosopher over a politician, Norton had to admit; she cared first for putting out her message rather than cultivating her popularity. Certainly, there were answers to her argument; the big one being that she hadn't any way of actually killing Discord, that no such means may actually be possible, and that antagonizing the god of chaos without one was essentially declaring an unwinnable war. But, since anything that would break Breakbeak City away from Equestria might also suit his own purposes, the Emperor was willing to let the accusation against the Princess stand.

Nonetheless, her manner was starting to grate on him. "You know, there is something about you that reminds me of a certain manager who came down from one of the big universities, do you remember that time, Falco?" He looked up at one of his friends in the audience. "He would endlessly lecture the forepony on everything he was doing wrong, but when he was actually put in charge of implementing solutions, well... the cogwheels rained down upon us like hailstones." The audience burst out laughing, both in relief as well as memory. "Under your management, the only things that have been concretely demonstrated about the system of justice you uphold is that it fails in prevention, fails in punishment, and is more prone to recidivism than rehabilitation. I, to answer your question, think ourselves no safer with Aquellia under you, than with Equestria under the princesses!"

While Morianna's remarks tended to leave the crowd silent, Norton's always stirred them up, made them restless, energetic, and talkative. The building and releasing of tension wasn't going to last forever, the impresario knew. Sooner or later, things would break down and the mob would erupt...

[RarityDash]

Brenda was increasingly annoyed by the clown with each ill-conceived syllable that left his beak. At the same time, she was somehow amused. Even the worst clowns could at times bring a smile if only through their failure and incompetence. That the gathered crowd of dregs there hailed him as a hero spoke for itself. Brenda Razorclaw certainly had no intention of courting the favor of the throngs of ponies and common griffons who sat in the seats beneath her balcony. It should not even be expected of her. Aunt Morianna was different; she was a more diplomatic presence. Brenda realized she would undoubtedly get chided for the things she was saying when the day was through, but she was not the sort who believed in holding her tongue, especially not to protect the wafer-thin prides of the assembled trash. Anything else was as unnecessary as the precepts this clown had them rally behind.

"Do not pretend to know me for the griffon I am, wretched cur! No matter how you strain yourself to appeal to the sensitives of your audience, you remain but a clueless jester, performing for the hollow cheers of the onlookers, a good many of whom have assembled here just to watch as you fall flat on your ridiculous face," Brenda started aggressively, standing from her seat and snarling.

"I see little reason to make effort to shield myself behind something so fragile and ever changing as public opinion. Paint me as the villain however you will; it matters not. It does little to change that you are the fool and the liar in this hall," Brenda continued, completed full force. "I do realize that there was a time once where you served Aquellia yourself, until such time that your head was marred by whatever unfortunate affliction wrapped its way around it, but your foolish words shamefully belittle the intelligence of those who serve the Aquellian Republic. A soldier who fights a lost battle for the sake of a flag has courage yes, but is also remarkably and unequivocally stupid. What do those who fight only for your honor get but an early death in some forgotten shallow grave? Never should a soldier fight to die; a soldier should fight to live, to prove their strength above all others." She clenched her talons and gave a low growl. "And so it is with nations. Loyalty forged from honor is an immaterial and abstract thing while loyalty forged from strength is undeniable. Aquellia only need to ensure her own greatness, her own superiority beyond any who ought challenge her, to keep her cunning and brave soldiers fighting proud in her name."

"On the matter of your other point, your 'clever' point ignores the simplest of truth," Brenda about sighed, sitting and shaking her head as she continued. "Talonopolis founded all those ages ago by Razorclaw, Goldplume and Silverbeak as a place for the greatest of griffons to come together and convene for the good of griffonkind. The location, where the great canyon was at its narrowest, where the Blue and White Raptorclaws merged to form the great river, was picked for its significance to all involved. It was a place of meaning, of greatness and of beauty upon which Talonopolis was built for the purpose of being a great city. So too was the pony palace and the surrounding city constructed along the tallest peak in the center of their nation in symbolic gesture by their princess." Brenda gave a laugh and a sigh. "Greatness is not an accidental thing. Some cities are built to be great. Others are simply built."

​

[Bellosh]

“Bwahahaha!!!” Falco belly laughed, remembering the story he told Norton of that manager fool at the scrapyard Falco worked at years before today; “That egghead sure got what came to him, I tell you what! I’ll never forget the look on his stupid face, gahahaha...”

----------

Norton Breakbeak really could provide the laughs when he wanted to. Somehow in his uninformed mind, Morianna Razorclaw was now suddenly the all-powerful ruler of Aquellia, responsible for overseeing every agency and little bit of government policy. It was clear that the phony emperor didn’t understand that all the Professor actually does is secretly manage the Republic’s intelligence community from the shadows… of course, that fact was itself top-secret.

Back to the matter on hand, it was easy for the mad griffon to spout nonsense about how much crime afflicted Aquellia; proving his claims would be much more difficult for Mr. Breakbeak. For every study that the fool cited, Morianna could very well mention several more reputable ones that soundly refuted his claims. As the Professor knew from her world view, the only things in the world more grossly inaccurate than lies are statistics. And now, Prof. Razorclaw’s opponent would get a taste of that bitter reality, should he choose to fall for the bait.

“........I’d like to tell you a little story about my mother,” the elderly griffon started another of her smug lectures; “Back when she was still alive, she was one of Aquellia’s most legendary prosecutors. In her forty years, as a servant of my country’s legal system she never lost a single case. When I was just a chick, I asked my mother; ‘Why do you never lose a case’? The answer she gave me was unexpectedly simple; ‘...Evidence is King’.”

That convenient anecdote about her legendary mother was something the Professor shamelessly forged on the spot, but the twisted griffoness knew that fake quote would be an effective lead-in to this coming moment; “All the conjecture and hearsay in the world won’t do someone good, if they don’t have have a scrap of evidence to back anything up. So I ask this of you Mr. Breakbeak; if you have undeniable, decisive proof that Aquellia is in reality a crime-infested wasteland, and that I, a simple representative of the House of Razorclaw and the Republic of Aquellia, is responsible for it all,” Morianna placed a clawed foot on her heart while mockingly bowing to the other griffon, only to rise with a most arrogant of smirks; “Then by all means, show the audience this proof.”

Morianna didn’t actually plan on directly engaging with her opponent like this, but with Norton’s completely misguided attacks on her character, she really had no choice but to respond. If the other griffon saw the futility of his current plan of attack, or at least acknowledged Morianna's actual limited role in Aquellian affairs (at least as far as public had the means to know), then the Professor would be more than comfortable to return back to slamming the princesses of Equestria.....