The Calm Before the Storm [Closed] (Dated)

A small white griffon sits on a chair inside the headquarters,near the commanders office with Courier bag around her neck waiting for orders. her job was at times rather boring, in fact she spent quite a bit of time waiting in the headquarters waiting for the commander to dispatch her to bring orders out to officers in the field. she sat in the hallway that is just past the front doors of the HQ with a bored look on her face. Talking under her breath "Any day now, not a big fan of sitting in here all day"

Sten liked not having anything to do. These days, if he wasn't herding terrified citizens, he was being eyeballed 'til it hurt, so he took the time to enjoy his down time. For instance, right now, he was taking the time to take a stroll through the building. And he was just passing through the hall, when a griffon caught his eye.
Not by making eye contact you understand, but just by attracting his attention. She was white, and maybea bit on the short side (but no one's perfect, and we can none of us help being the way we are, he reminded himself, quickly). He strolled over and leaned up against the wall beside her with exaggerated nonchalance.
"Alright?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

Whiteout did not think anyone would talk to her so this was a pleasant surprise, turning her head to face him and smiling as she always did when she met people that wanted to talk to her "Im alright, just waiting for orders." she was generally happy that someone would talk to her

Sten grinned sheepishly and tried to think of something intelligent to say. Failing that, he said something stupid.
"Ah, right. It would be, eh? Orders," he rolled his eyes dismissively. "I suppose, aren't we all, though? Waiting on orders, I mean."
Well, they hadn't hired him for his interpersonal skills, but then again, he'd never adhered to 'if you haven't got anything sensible to say...'
The moment his brain caught up with his mouth it started berating him, but he was too far gone.

Whiteout giggled a bit at this griffon who was talking to her "I see talking is not your specialty" she was very polite when it came to others making mistakes so she played it off as being funny "So what brings a griffon with charms like yours here?"

Sten hunched his shoulders guiltily as she giggled. In all fairness, it had been a silly thing to say. Luckily, she'd changed the subject, thank god.
"Brought me here? Orders, oddly enough," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I'm like everyone here. Too awkwardly-shaped and too desperate to go home, so they shipped me off here to keep me out of the way."
Which he thought was true. The actual truth didn't much interest him.

Zweihander was unimpressed. Waiting for his new contact from Los Pegasus, he was confined to Griffon HQ until he arrived. Sighing, he toyed with a piece of debris on a nearby table. Looking up, he saw two griffons, one male, and one female, shooting the breeze. Having seen both of them around Manehatten, he chuckled. The male was Sten something, and the female was a courier... her name escaped him.

Taking out his sword, Zweihander began to hone the blade to his favored sharpness.

Whiteout heard the sound of a sword being drawn and moved her head to see where it came from just in case she needed to run but once she saw it came from a fellow griffon she let out a sigh of relief.

Turning her head head back to face the griffon that was talking to her "Well i'm stuck here till the commander Gives me something to deliver so i can't leave till the commander tells me to or...." she looks out the window out at the clock tower that also happened to be her home "Or 7 more hours" she says the last part with a deep sigh, she really did not want to wait here that long.

Sten tried to look sympathetic. Anything to make a semblance of a friend in this godforsaken city.
"Sucks. So you're the only courier they have? For the whole city?"
He cast a glance at the lunatic with the sword. He'd never quite got along with Talons. He just had a bad rapport with griffons who felt they needed giant long hunks of metal to fight with. He'd always say exactly the wrong thing. The thing about compensating.

Continuing to sharpen his sword, Zweihander glanced up again at the two conversing griffons. As he looked up, he noticed both had glanced at him. The female had given him a passing glance, almost one of relief, but the male looked at him with one of shame, or embarrassment.. Zweihander was curious. Why would the male look at him like that? Unless... sniffed the air. Broken from his train of thought, he swore he could smell zebra. Fully distracted, he ceased to sharpen his sword.

White out quickly nodded "Saddly i am, being courier is harder than it sounds but i love my job." she said with a smile, she did in fact like her job it was very much the rush she needed for her life.

quickly glancing over at the griffon with the sword "Do you know who that is? I never saw him in here before."

"Well, it's good to enjoy your work..."
Sten followed the griffon's eyes across the hall to the chap with the sword. Sten didn't let his eyes linger. Lingering your eyes on a griffon like that was inviting disaster.
"Doesn't look familiar," he said, shaking his head and turning back to her. "I haven't been here long though, so don't take my word for it."

Whiteout nods once more "Alright, I did not expect you to know." as she stands up and stretches out for a minute "Anyways, would you care to eat dinner with me?" she hasn't eaten in two days, not that she could not find food, she just forgot to eat, she would quite enjoys someone to eat dinner with because she normally eats by herself.

Starting to walk over to the lunch room across the hall "Lunch is on me if you join me." she had no real expenses so she had quite a bit of money just floating around in her bag

Realizing that the two were leaving, Zweihander was shaken from his stupor. He rather enjoyed their company, even if he did not approach them. Deciding that his contact was not coming soon, he chose to follow the two to their destination.

Sten was a little taken aback. After all, invitations to dinner from exotically coloured ladies didn't come often. Or at all. Okay, so that was the wrong way to think about it. This was just a quick nosh in the mess with a colleague.
"Sure, sure," said Sten, as steadily as he could. "Don't worry about paying, I can stump up my share."
He followed after her briskly, smiling, despite himself.

The relative quiet of the office was interrupted abruptly when a crash like forty griffins arriving exploded from outside. In fact, the noise was indeed, forty griffins arriving. Typical.

Three burst through the entryway of the Griffin Headquarters dragging a limp body of a dismembered griffin inside. Decked to the nines in battle regalia, they seemed completely out of place in the placid environment of the Headquarters. Several more began rushing, grabbing supplies and clearing tables as fresh wounded were carted in from the retinue outside.

A large, gaunt griffon entered, as black as night and covered in marks of office. "IS ANYONE IN THIS BUILDING A DOCTOR?!" He roared with authoritative might.

Whiteout quickly made her way into the lunch room, walking up to the conter and pulling out enough bits for two dinners dispite What Sten said and than starts grabbing her Dinner.

A few moments later she finds a table and sits down, her meal was made up of a few cuts off beef and various vegetables and stated eating but than she heard the noise of whatever was happening out side than heard someone shout for a doctor and went out into the hallway and looked out towards the wounded griffon, it seems she can't even get a meal in peace.

Sten had been rather looking forward to lunch. The stuff they served here wasn't, when you thought about it, that bad. Sure the meat was suspect and the vegetables overcooked, but when you got down to it, it wasn't bad stuff. The new patient, however, put him right off it. He marched over to the chap with the big voice and bigger ego, through the swirl of chaos.
"Pardon, sir, this isn't the medical wing," he said, trying as hard as he could not to snark.

Tisis scowled at the talking griffin, lowering his head to make himself beak to beak with the speaker. "Then which one IS the medical wing, if it would be so POLITE of you to tell me?"

Tisis had lost a little bit of his nerve today, and his claw hovered near the hilt of his sword. Say something clever, say something. I DARE YOU, he willed. No one would miss a insubordinate soldier.

Zweihander was alarmed. This new griffon positively reeked of authority, and Sten was telling him to screw off. Zweihander suspected that if he didn't intervene in a timely fashion, the guerillas were to be sans one griffon. Putting a claw on Sten's shoulder, he made eye contact with the other griffon, and shook his head. Releasing the other griffon, Zwei approached the wounded griffon. Crouching, he saw that his wounds were much too great. The wounded soldier was as good as dead. Standing up, Zweihander got the black griffons attention.

Pointing to the wounded griffon, then himself, Zwei than mimed slitting a throat. They needed to put the griffon out of his misery now.

Whiteout does not dare say anything but she does watch, she did have concern for her fellow griffons but she had no medical experiences so she just stayed out of the way and stayed silent

Sten stepped back. When in doubt, don't argue with the chap with the two-hander, after all. He gave the black griffon one look and sidled over to she of the free lunch.
"Rum old business," he muttered, not looking at tall, dark and loud. "He looks like all kinds of trouble."

The Prudentate saw the gesture, and snortled a little bit. "Ah that one, he's not here for medical attention. He's here for more interrogation. Dressed himself as a soldier to infiltrate the convoy bringing me and my retinue here. Assassins... Ha! I got most of what I needed from him, hence the missing limbs. But I thought we might get some more from him, so we brought him with us. It would seem that we were too slow, though."

As a matter of fact, the dismembered griffin had died as they spoke, the blood no longer gushing... as much...

"Amongst this mottely crew that we seem to have here, does any of you know where I could find a doctor?"

Whiteout looks back at her new found friend "i already don't like him" as she keeps looking at the wounded griffon that is now a dead one but she did not know that, she had a genuine look of concern in her eyes

Zweihander stood still. This Griffons injuries were not from honest battle, but torture? He would not allow that on his watch. Crossing his arms, he gave a cold stare to the black griffon. He assumed this was his new contact, but he did not care. Pointing at the dead griffon, he crossed his arms again. Glancing at the two bystanders, he tilted his head, and gave them a look that said, "It would be unwise to stay here".

Sten caught the two-hander's look, and he knew enough about glances to know what it said. At any rate, he knew bad vibes when he felt them. He looked down at his new companion.
"Come on, we don't need to be here," he said, nodding in the direction of the door. "He's a few potatoes short of a stroganoff."

Whiteout follows behind him,giggling at his joke than goes back into the room and sits back down where she left her meal, although it was a bit colder now it was still food and she still ate it.

Taking a break from eating for a second "I can't believe he would do that to a fellow griffon, just thinking about it makes me feel sick."

Tisis turned his back on the mute griffin, not recognizing the hand gestures as cognizant communication attempts. Not only had he failed in his attempts in getting his retinue to their new staging center without half of them being blown up and dismembered, but he had lost a young unicorn foal he was escorting. The Prudentates where accustomed to using creatures with magical ability to supplement their inability to use magic in combat scenarios- the young foal had been taken off the streets for that exact purpose. She would have been trained, and disciplined as any griffon, to supplement the Prudentates in their quest for total pony subjugation. Its a shame she disappeared after the explosion.

Additionally, it would seem that no member of the current affiliated Manehatten Headquarters would offer him the time of day, and seemed to sympathize with the traitorous assassin. This city was a bomb, Titis felt, and it was just a matter of time before someone killed him.

Titis was unaware that an individual of both capacity and mind to potentially do so was immediately behind him, in the form of the mute one with the two-hander...

Zwei had enough with this Griffon. Not caring of the repercussions, he tapped the black Griffons shoulder.

Antony turned sharply to the one who had touched him. "Yes?- oh, your the... mute one, yes I read about you. You... Lesse, your the savage with the sword, who mutilates anyone if the money's good enough? More of a liablity then anything I presume. What do you need- Don't do any of the silly gestures, I know sign language after all."

Zweihander's pupils dilated. Shaking his head to banish that side of him, and calming down, he looked the Griffon straight in the eyes. Having a rudimentary knowledge of Griffon sign language due to his education, Zweihander "spoke" to the griffon.

"Me lost tongue, me lost pride, me no lose bite"

Combining the word "Bite" with an uppercut, Zwei attempted to take the Prudentate by surprise. Torturers, rapists, traitors; all were scum. But to be in front of one? That was worse. Zweihander had lost his pride to the bottle, but not his morals.

Tisis tried to make out the crude sign language, and pieced together about, say half, before a fist rocked his world like Hiroshima. Tisis was leaning in, and the uppercut caught him by complete surprise, causing his brain to be knocked back into the rear of his skull, initiating the cascade of neurological effects collectively called a 'black out.'

The poor Prudentate collapsed like a sack of wet flour, causing a bewildered set of soldiers to turn about and witness the act. Their faces registered confusion, but little else, as they collectively cocked their heads to the sides with gaping beaks.

Looking down at his opponent, Zweihander crossed his foreharms. Standing on two legs over the downed griffon, he shook his head. Sighing, Zweihander looked around at every single one of the black griffons, giving them a cold glare. Looking back at the lunchroom, he could not make out the two bystanders expressions. Thank the gods they left before the violence started. Grabbing a piece of parchment, Zweihander wrote a note for his "Superior Officer".

You may not know me, you may not care, but I am no savage. Admit to torture around me again, and things will escalate. If I hear of you torturing ANY griffon while you stay here, you will find out personally why I was the First Talon of the Stormtroopers. I have morals, and if you abide by my morals, I will do your... "work".
Yours sincerely, "your excellency" Zweihander, free-agent of the Griffon Kingdoms.

Neatly folding it, Zweihander placed it on the griffons face, and tapped it twice.

(((I think your policy on torture is going to make this relationship rather rocky XD. "Tell us the location!" "Aren't you going to torture me first?" "No!" "Oh, well fuck you guys")))

Tisis jolted into awareness, siezing the arm touching his face and twisting his body to place his legs at his foes chest. Tisis kicked with full force, using his hold on the arm to try and flip his foe. His one free arm went for his blade. "Don't just wait around idiots, kill the assassin!"- causing several soldiers to sieze their weapons at the order.

Tisis was calculating odd, measuring probabilities- the monster with the sword couldnt hope to swing it as long as he held tight onto it's hand, much less draw the beast...

Zweihander... did not like being restrained. Feeling helpless, he could feel his pupils begin to dilate. Desperately trying to warn the black griffon, all that came out of his beak was clicking. Memories began to muddle, and he turned stock still. Attempting to calm himself down, he tried to look at his captors eyes. What he saw reflected in Tisis' eyes were that of a monster, the pupils dilated so much that no white showed, just pits of black. Fully frightened, he attempted to calm down. Hopefully the other griffon would back down, before all in the building were murdered.

The gleam in the creatures eye terrified Tisis, so he held tighter, and fumbled with his other hand desperate to remove the sword from its sheath. Goddammit, goddammit, goddammit, goddammit- he muttered under his breath. "-STAB THE SHIT OUT OF THIS GRIFFON!" he hollered, desperate for help.

The soldiers in their full regalia, exhausted and demoralized from a day of hard flying, in addition too their quarrel with the sabatuers seemed to slow them; and seeing the monster, perhaps acquinted with rumors of the large griffon with scars and a hand-and-a-half blade, began to retreat.

Well, if Im going to die today, I'm going to fucking go buck wild- Tisis thought, and ceased reaching for the blade, instead doubling his efforts at restraining the monster, digging his talons into the arm with bloody results.

pain....

Vengeance had become dominant, yet not in complete control. The Sword still maintained a presence, making the insanity unable to kill the creature that had pinned him. Moving his "restrained" arm, Vengeance stood up to his full height on his hind legs, bringing the whelp in front of his eyes. Glaring right at him, face to face, the mute griffon let out a single click.

AAAAAH WHY WONT IT DIIIIIE-IIEE- Tisis screamed mentally. Seeing an opening, Tisis thrust forward with his leg as hard as possible, aiming square for the monster-who-was-definitely-not-really-all-that-tall-and-shouldn't-be-calling-people-whelps's gonads, all whilst screaming his signature battle cry- "CONFLICT RESOLUTION!!!"


In retrospect, future archivists will reflect on this as one of the silliest moments in the history of modern warfare. It will go on in infamy, though, as the moment in which all of Tisis's retinue lost any semblance of respect for their superior's fighting ability. It is also the day in which, on a completely different note, that from then on out, Prudentates were no longer allowed to engage in direct combat, in order to mantain the dignity of the Griffin Kingdom. As the historian Don Liarxes noted, "That blow to the genitals, such was the audacity, for a griffin of distinguished service and rank, to reduce himself to the lowest form of combat- such was it that it forever shamed the Griffin Kingdom, and from then on out, the policy was that their intelligence officers were forever barred from the theator of honorable combat."

"CONFLICT RESOLUTION!" Was yelled into the griffons face as he held Tisis in front of him. Using the fabled leg strength of the griffons of old, Tisis kicked Zweihander in the.... "lower" regions.

Taking the hit, the room was silent. The look on the griffons face was impassive. For a ripe five seconds, Zweihander stood there staring at the Prudentate. Then, without breaking expression, through him by the arm, into a nearby wall. It was said, during the throw, that the tiniest of grimaces could be seen on Zweihander's face. Vengeance noted, quite briefly, that had HURT like a birthing.

A loud crash caught the attention of the newly reporting pegasus. The griffon guards were giving her a hard time, not believing that a pony was in their ranks. Ignoring them, she ran into the building and to the source of the noise.

Upon entering, she sees a black griffon, obviously an officer of high ranking, on the ground with another griffon, looking psychotic, approaching him.

Without thinking Freyia readied her spear, wrapped it around her right leg and held the tip to the psychotic griffons neck. "Stand down," were her only words.

(((I rofled. Also, Im going to stay out of this one, since my character is clearly outmatched.)))

Being that Tisis was in fact the one gripping the arm, the throwing motion was less of a 'toss', and more like what happens when a cat is on your arm and you wave it around to try to get it off. Tisis flew backwards at the wall, cushioning his blow with his wings. And by cushioning, I meant "using the soggy cardboard that is the bone structure of an avian organism to cushion a body of several hundred kilograms at a velocity of many meters per second."

Tisis heard a plethora of small cracks as his left wing broke in several locations. The agony gripped him, raising his already frail state of mind to that of dementia. He didn't scream. Screaming would be impossible for an individual with shattered rib puncturing your lung. "Oh yeah," Tisis noted. That happened.

From an external standpoint, this all happened in moments, because that is all that it took for the pain threshold of the Prudentate to be crossed, and for his consciousness to slip.

Looki down slowly at the spear, then back as the mare, Vengeance believed that he could gut her like a pig. But the Sword decided THEN was the moment to fight Vengeance. Going down all all fours, Zweihander fought his own psyche. If one was quick enough, they could easily restrain him. If he remained incapacitated. Snapping his beak in a staccato of clicks, it was almost like bones snapping.

The Sword wanted more bloodshed. The Insanity wanted the beating hearts of every pony in Manehatten in his beak. Who would win?

Freyia stepped back and watched as the griffon did this, confused. She could tell he was struggling with something, but she did not know what. Maybe this was normal for griffons here. Maybe this was him standing down. She remained at the ready, but waited patiently for the griffon to calm down.

Vengeance, the insane third of Zweihander, fought the Sword, the sane third, for control. Having the bodily control, Vengeance caused his nerves to detect the highest amount of pain possible, letting only the sane part of Zweihander feel the pain. The Sword, realizing that almost every single nerve ending felt like was on fire, tried to scream. However, all that came out was a hollow breath, with no sound. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to reach out for help... and succeeded. To this day, the Sword does not understand why Vengeance backed down. Perhaps the strain of causing the most pain possible was too much.

The real reason, was that the cold steel of his sword touched his body. Driving Vengeance out, and putting Sanity in its place, Zweihander laid flat on the ground. A single tear oozed from his eye, and traced a path to the tip of his beak, suspending itself there.

Freyia stood and watched the tear fall slowly to the ground. Once it hit, she proceeded to the Officer to ensure he was ok. She could tell he was wounded, although how bad she did not know. She grabbed him and struggled to get the large bird up. Focus, Comon.

She looks at the guards who watched in shear disbelief. "Hurry up and help me!" she ordered. The guards came and grabbed their officer. Freyia turned to watch the griffon, ensuring that his episode is over. She is very confused.

Its worse than they said. This place is a disaster.

The remaining soldiers, perhaps jarred from seeing their commanding officer crumple to the floor like a... really really injured thingy...yes, well they leapt into action. One of the griffins, the Demi-Prudentate, was tasked personally with protection of the Prudentate.

Berserkers were dangerous, and not altogethor uncommon. The many raids of rebel forces had steeled the men in their resolution. Whether it was a force of Evermagic twisted to tear a griffin to shreds, or a Buffalo assassin decked to the nines in metal plate, common sense dictated that if a berserker could be contained then he could be dealt with.

The griffin invasion would have been hilariously short lived if the hadn't adapted to the unusual tactics of their foes. And whilst the soldier did not personally possess a weapon that could subdue the beast, he knew that this building, the Griffin Headquarters, certainly did possess something that could.

Medical kits had been pulled from the walls, stored in order to ensure that in eventualities such as these, that there would be first aid supplies for the wounded. Inside one, the soldier found what he needed.

The soldier watched the griffon. Mad, definitely. But it seemed... preoccupied. The soldier rushed in morphine in hand and swung the syringes with intent to puncture the monsters arm...

Zweilander knew that the Griffon had morphine. He knew that standard protocol for berserkers indicated Morphine to keep them contained. And he knew if he moved, the griffon would miss. But he didn't move. Feeling a slight prick, accompanied by all his nerves on fire, he only laid there, on the floor. His last thought before going under, was;

[/i]"Why is that Pegasus in the Headquarters?"[i] And all thy remained after, was a cold, painless sleep.

Freyia remained confused, but everything seemed ok. She left the room. Well, at least this will be an interesting duty station. She went to report in properly.

(((Well, I wasn't really trying to imply morphine was used to sedate berserkers. Morphine isn't actually a sedative unless its in extremely high doses. I was just suggesting that fighting berserkers required unconventional tactics and that the soldiers had been trained to recognize this and innovate as necessary. As a tactic, using morphine in normal doses would be HORRIBLE. It'd be like giving the enemies free bullets. I'm just noting this here so you know that my personal gaurds dont typically use morphine like this, and not to expect it in similar situations because it wont happen again, unless this EXACT situation happens again. Also, Im very curious if the other two griffons ate their lunch in peace while this all happened *swag**swag* XD)))

(((FUCK, WE NEED A DOCTOR)))

Whiteout finally returned back when she heard the fighting die down and she just shook her head at the pointless violence, she moved back into the hallway and than back to the chair that sits next to the commanders office, now waiting for orders.