Re: -=[::] Xarith's General Goods [::]=- [Closed] (Dated)

[Johan Tercel]

As Zweihander extended his claw in greeting, he was interrupted by the two stallions haggling over nickel. Rolling his eyes, he returned to scoping out a potential rival.

[°๖ۣۜXarith]

Xarith just smiled politely as he trotted back over to the unicorn.

"Please sir, no need to get a bit angry over something as nickel. Like you said yourself, it is not as worth as much to you as it is to me." Xarith then put the nickel powder back on the counter. "Now I understand that you may have already gone over things like this with others, and you may have gotten a different option." The zebra started, "But this metal is what I use in my alchemy and other crafts and I can't just be using low purity materials." He then went to the counter and set the vile off to the side in a safe place.

Xarith then grabbed the larger vile of manganese from the counter and showed it to the unicorn. "My offer for the manganese still stands sir. I would think that it is a good amount for what it is. I have been ordering much of this for a while now and I do not have many uses for it with my alchemy. So for this you can still get it at 60 bits. I've got another container in the back full of manganese if you need more," Xarith said keeping a true friendly expression on his face.

[Steel Strike]

Steel sighed. "Im sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just 100 bits is what I'm making off the item I'm using it for. And if I bought it for that amount, I'd automatically be losing more money than gaining some." Steel Strike put a hoof behind his head. He then got an idea. "Say, you're a decent business pony...er, Zebra. How about this: I buy the vial for 50, and you'll get a reduced price next time you're at my Smith. I can do repairs, and such, as well as craft specific items. It'd be useful for someone in your position." said Steel convincingly. He hoped the Zebra took the offer, as he wanted the very best for his customer, while not losing money.

[°๖ۣۜXarith]

Xarith just laughed as he stuck out a hoof for a shake.

"Seems like a deal my friend," he said hoofing the vial to the unicorn. "Names Xarith Treviant, glad to get acquainted."

Getting out a small pouch for the vial, Xarith spoke. "Who do I owe this this to, and where can I find this smith?"

[Steel Strike]

Steel Strike shook his hoof with a grin. "Names Steel Strike. You can find my Smith Downtown. It's fairly easy to find. It looks busted up, but its suits me fine." he said, happily.

Steel took out his sack of bits. He had put 25 bits into each pouch, bringing a total of 75 bits with him today. It seemed a fair trade off. He wanted the best for his customer. He slid the two pouches on the counter, as the Zebra gave him the precious vial.

[Freyia]

Freyia turned her head slightly so as to catch the Smith's eyes as he went to pay the money. The look on her face was intrigue, but it could easily be mistaken for a glare. She never trusted the griffon smiths, other than the one that was in her squad, but he was halfway across Equestria, and it had been years since she had repairs made.

She turned away, making sure to not stare too long. She may have to stop by there some time. She continued sipping her drink. Taking a peak at the griffon, she could she that he wanted another, and that he did not like the interruption from the two business ponies. She smiled a little and went back to her drink. This may get interesting

[Johan Tercel]

As he waited for the zebra to serve him again, he glanced at the mare again. Having been interrupted by the...smith? How did he know that? He smelled...oh by the gods. He would drink this zebra out of house and home then. He needed to forget. Sighing, he extended his hand, and put on a smile, like he used to do as a noble. He would scope out the potential threat of this mare. And possibly make an ally. You never knew with alcohol.

[Freyia]

Freyia noticed the claw as she was taking another sip. She placed the drink down and looked at the claw, then the griffon. She couldn't read him too much, except that this griffon had seen better days, and much worse days. He kind of reminded her of one of her friends from the squad. With that reminder she smiled and returned the gesture, placing her hoof into his massive claw.

"I am Freyia, soldier. What is your title griffon." She didn't even notice that some of the drink had gotten on her nose. Lucky for her, white does not show up very easily on white.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander smiled broadly at the mares "straight as a nail" attitude. Putting her hoof in a firm grip, he shook it briskly. Staying still, waiting for a few seconds, Zweihander's face lit up with embarassment. Fumbling around in his harness, he produced the flash cards again.

Hello my name is Zweihander, Free Agent for the Griffon Kingdoms. In case you have wondered why I am not talking, I will show you why. Looking up at the ceiling, Zweihander showed his large scar to the mare. On his neck, directly where the vocal cords were, was a large patch of magically burned skin. The feathers had not grown back, and it was an unsightly mess of scar tissue.

After producing that travesty, Zweihander sighed, and turned to his glass.

[Freyia]

Freyia watched confused as the griffon fumbled with his harness. Upon being handed the card she read it, aloud. She looked up at all the right spots, then returned it to the griffon. "So, you can't speak, at all? That must be terrible." She grabs her drink again and begins drinking it, all the way, without stopping. Once empty she raised it to the griffon. "To the war. That god awful mess that took something from all of us." She smiled at him, a sincere, strong smile. She was no stranger to drinking, and no stranger to drinking a lot.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander liked her attitude! Raising his head from his misery, he sincerely grinned, raising his glass, and draining it again. Putting twenty four bits on the table, he waited for the drinks. He planned on having a new drinking buddy in the Griffon Kingdoms this day. And may the gods be praised if she could hold her liquor!

[Freyia]

Freyia looked at the bits on the table. She smiled. Pulling her bit bag on the table she pulled out the same number of bits. Lets see what he can do.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander pushed the mare's bits into the bag. Smiling, he wrote on a nearby scrap of paper with his quill;

First rounds on me.

[Freyia]

"Well the," She pushed her bag to the side, "How can I pass that up? Zebra! If you would be so kind, we require more drink." She smiled, oh yes, this was going to be fun.

[°๖ۣۜXarith]

Xarith just smiles as he hops back over his counter and started shaking up some more drinks. Soon enough he had 8 Coladas ready for the two costumers in a flash. He threw four to each and just smiled politely.

"Now have fun. I'll be in the back working on some potions."

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander smiled. Time to do some friendly small talk. Getting a spare piece of paper, he began to write.

What brings a Griffon Kingdoms pony like yourself down here in Equestria? I assumed the pony immigrants were not to move until at least two years have passed? Or, are you stationed here?

Zweihander knew fully well why she was here, in Manehatten. The question was; did she? Passing the paper down to her, he took a swig from his glass.

[Freyia]

Freyia looked up after reading the paper, then looked to make sure the zebra was out of the room. She looked back and grabbed her drink. She took sips in between her explaining.

"I joined the army two years before the war. When it started, I was placed on the front line of ever major battle. Well, me and my squad. We fought through the whole eight years. Then once it was over, I was pulled from my squad and stationed in various outposts, cities, and castles. Now I'm stationed here."

With that last line she took a longer sip from her drink. She starred into the distance, thinking over how shitty the after war has been.

"What about you? What's your story?" She turned to face him. "Oh, and I'll wait for you to right it down." She laughed a little. The idea of a mute griffon trying to tell of his past life was pretty funny.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander took a long drink from his glass. Placing it down on the table, quietly, he began to write again, his smile no longer as big.

I was a member of the Griffon Army Stormtrooper Divisions. We were on the frontlines in several notable engagements, including Stalliongrad. I was my squads Talon, the Heavy Weaponry and armor expert. But, during the battle of Stalliongrad, I lost most of my squad. The only ones left were Schreiber, our medic, and SangWing, the special operations expert. I myself lost a talon from a failed parry. We eventually took the city, but, in my personal opinion, that it was the hardest fight in the war. A culture that was as battle-hardy as our own, and even had a similar religion, is always a tough foe.

Passing the paper to Freyia, he drained the remainder of his drink, and picked up a new one.

[Freyia]

Freyia reminisced on the battle of Stalliongrad. So too lost a lot of her friends in that fight, half her squad was either dead or too wounded to continue on after that battle. "Yeah, that was a rough one." She too finished off her drink. Grabbing another one, she finishing that too. "So how'd you lose your voice?"

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander stiffened. A single tear dropped from his eye, and he made no move to respond. Slowly draining every single one of his drinks, he looked to the mare. Grabbing a large stack of paper, and a quill, he began to write.

I suppose it had to be talked about sometime. It was during a special operation, where I alone went into a dangerous unicorns lair. The events of that night are quite hazy, but...

Mikael Haldenschloss, Talon of The Griffon Kingdoms, stares at his captor. "You will never get away with this. You think you, can capture a noble of the Haldenschloss Duchy, and not get hurt?" His voice was that of high class nobility; refined, with an air of culture. His body, however, was that of a hardened warrior. Heavy armor covered his form, a burnished grey, with crennaltions engraved on the pauldrons to make it appear his shoulders were castles themselves. His large, fluted helm of griffon-make was discarded on the ground, beside his paws. Leaving his face bare for the one unicorn in the room to see.

"I'm sorry, Mikael, but you are far too important." The pony's voice was distorted by magic; it was impossible to tell whether or not it was a stallion or mare. "Now... let's shut you up. I tire of your feminine voice" Mikael opened his beak to protest some more, but quickly began to scream. He felt a deep, unwholesome pain in his throat, as something was being torn out. With an audible *snap*, almost like a Zebra alchemists rubber strip breaking, he felt something, almost like a roast, come out of his throat, and onto the floor. Looking down, he stopped screaming for a second. It was a large, pinkish object, very long. It was his tongue. Zweihander could feel the blood pouring down his throat. Yelling like an animal, he attempted to get rid of his restraints.

"Let's stop that pesky yelling too, while I'm rooting around in there." Feeling a warmth at the base if his neck, Mikael felt his voice deepen, lower, and go all places in between, while the unicorn toyed with his vocal chords. He felt the unicorn break them. Trying to scream, all that came out was a hollow breath...

...and when I awoke, I was alone. Tears were running freely from Zweihander's face as he wrote his story, and his demeanor showed what he was feeling. Passing the essay to the mare, he looked sullenly at his cups. Maybe he should stop.

((This is my apology to you guys, ask me about what happened tomorrow over TF2. I'll explain then. Until then, enjoy the story of how Mikael lost his voice))

[Freyia]

Freyia watched in disbelief as the griffon cried silently. It was all she could do.

So let me get this straight, I get stationed in a city that is supposedly having trouble with a rebellion, and almost imediatly I get aproached about a secret job, I get rushed by another pony in the ranks, and I meet a griffon who immediately beings crying as he tells me his story. These creatures are CRAZY!

I mean, it isn't bad, not at all. Just didn't see any of it coming. At least I was right, this place IS interesting

She drank the rest of her drinks all the way while she thought this, still starring at the griffon. After finishing them she finally responded. "Um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to open such a deep wound. I knew of stories similar, the torture. I even had a few friends die to it, and not by the ponies." She grouped her glasses at the edge of the counter and grabbed her bag of bits, "This next rounds on me eh? Lets drink till all of the shit smells like roses." She gave him a smile as she let the bits fall on the counter. It was enough to ensure they both are drunk enough to forget everything. It was also loud enough to let the owner know they wanted more.

"What about before the war?" This was her attempt at cheering him up. "I was nothing much, my parents were ambassadors and we lived in the rural northern tundra. It was rough, but we made do. I even met a small group of griffons who lived a few miles away as a kid. It took some convincing, mostly fighting, but eventually they let me join them in teaching, stories, and feasts. My parents were too busy for me. That is how I came to be a griffon in pony flesh." She laughed at her last comment.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander was surprised at this ponies upbringing. Smiling at what she told him, he hoped she would not judge him for what he was to write.

Back in the Kingdoms, I was the youngest son, a princeling, of the Haldenschloss Duchy. We were located in a fairly isolated section of the Kingdoms, and mostly kept to ourselves. My brother, Friedrech, was the heir, and I was expected to go to war when the Kingdoms did. So, I fought a year after the war was declared in Equestria. My duchy was always fairly different from other griffons; even our accents differed. If you could hear me, you would notice a more complex air to my accent, rather than the heavy, droopy speech of the central Kingdoms. As you could imagine, it caused several problems for me at training...

"MOVE GRIFFON MOVE!" The trainer was yelling his soul out at the brown griffon who was making his way through the obstacle course. Wings bound, and with full armor on, he was expected to run the complex course. He was not doing so well.

"Oof!" As the armored griffon tripped on a piece of unsteady ground, the jeering catcalls from the other recruits could be clearly heard.

"Inbred freak!", one white and grey griffon shouted.

"Isolationist!" A big red griffon said that one.

"Your brothers a runt, Mee-KY-HALL!" A muscular Griffoness said this, mocking his family and his pronunciation of his name.

Not a single one of these claims had a speck of veracity; however, they still burned. Pushing himself up, he felt a rushing pain from his left paw. It appeared that he had rolled his ankle. Clenching his beak, he trudged through the pain to finish the course. As he moved forward, one voice could be faintly heard cheering for the injured griffon.

"You can do it Mikael!"

...I managed to finish the course that day, with the support of my...best friend, Klara.

Sliding the note down with a smile, he looked at the pegasus in thought. She did not seem to have the rampant naïve nature most ponies owned; she seemed introspective, and wise beyond her years. And those years appeared to be kind to the warrior, she appeared to be no more than twenty. However, he knew that to have fought in the war, that she must be at least thirty, maybe even more. Waiting for his answer, he idly played with a glass, waiting for some refills.

[Freyia]

Freyia read the note. It was almost like she was there, as him. Maybe because she was. She turned the paper over, grabbed his pen, and began writing.

During my training, During my first years in the army, I was never given a chance to do anything. To be honest, I was only allowed in because I was able to hold my own in a fight against an NCO. I had killed his son's friend and wounded his son. They were going to harm me, so I did what I had to. In retaliation he killed my parents, then was going to do the same to me. So I fought him. I must have done well because after some time, he stopped and offered me a swift execution, or entry into the army. I guess I didn't feel like dying then.

"Move you stupid maggot infested piece of meat." The griffon pushed her out of his way and into a mud pool. The brown sludge staining her white coat. She did not look up, nor did she retaliate. All she did was slowly pick herself up.

The griffon and his buddies had moved on and she was alone on the path from the mess hall to the barracks. She didn't eat in the mess hall, of course. She prepared the food. Now she was off to clean the latrines. She never looked up to make eye contact with any of the other griffons.

"What the hell is this?" A familiar voice came from behind. It was her NCO, the NCO. "What the hell are you doing maggot?"

"Nothing sir. Heading to the latrines now sir." She faced him with her head down, mud slowly dripping off of her body and onto the cold wet ground.

"That's the problem," he said as he walked right up to her.

"Sir?"

"You do nothing. You walk around like a limp dick pony from the southern lands. This is not the fighter I offered into my ranks. You better fix yourself."

"I-I don't understand sir." She finally looked up, and it was then she could see the smile on him. Not a mean or malice smile, but a sincere one. This confused her more.

"I seen what those griffons do to you every day. You better fix yourself. Become the fighter I saw when we fought. Or I'll make you join your parents." With that his face had the slightest hint of malice.

She began to become angry. Her look changed and her stance began to take shape. She lowered her head ever so slightly.

"That's it!" The griffon patted her on the shoulder. "You want to be garbage all your life? You need to show those griffons that you can beat any of their asses at any time. Then they will respect you."

He began to walk off, "hell, it worked on me."

Freyia still hated him with a passion. But now a sense of respect began to well up in her. She spent the rest of the night mulling over this in her head.

The next day she broke two griffons wings, dislocated three shoulders, cause temporary blindness in one, and broke a couple claws.

After that, they never went near me. Then the war started.

Freyia finished writing and passed the note to the griffon. She smiled as she began to play with her empty glasses too.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander mulled over what she had just written.

So, this is how a pony joined the army... Glancing at his empty glasses, and back to his quill, he began to write a response. After he was done, he did the familiar motion of sliding the finished paper to the pegasus.

I had no idea that yare parents died from your own people. However, by defending your honor, it sounds like you won something greater than his respect, giving you a chance like that. Was he a native Kingdoms griffon, or did he come from one of the provinces?

Before she could read it, he hastily began to scrawl some rapid calculations on a second slip of paper. He was never as good as his brother in mathematics, but he could do basic math. By his reckoning, he had more than enough to buy quite a few more drinks. This would be a good night.

[Freyia]

"He was a native, at least I think so. To be honest, the sergeant never talked about his home life, and no one was stupid enough to ask." She laughed a little. "During the war though, the guys and I had a pool going for who could get it out of him, and when it would happen. It wasn't until the end was near and he had been promoted to captain that he gave us some hints. I had no idea where he was talking about, but the others said it was just outside the capitol, in a rural farming area. Jab won the pot." She laughed again as she starred into the empty glasses, but it was quickly killed. "He fell in the battle right before this. We sent the money to his family." Now a look of sadness became her. She was still starring into the glasses.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander shuffled his claws. He was quite sobered by the melancholy feeling emanating from the mare. Wait... he recognized her... The Siege of Horsehitcher Pass. She had fought there, he was sure of it. Quickly jotting down a note, he slid it to her rapidly.

Was your squad present at the Siege of Horsehitcher Pass?

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