/mlpol/ - My Little Politics


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Razorback Company.png
#OiE: The Dark Horse Cometh
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.279343
>If you would like to join, make a sensible loadout here at:
innawoods.net
>And if you want to bring in something special or anything not on the list, ask to shop it in.

>When you're done, read over the Operator's Handbook:
https://ponepaste.org/7810

>Or the Hoofbook if you wanna be a pony:
https://ponepaste.org/7812

>Then drop a post here.

>Overall Pastebin:
https://ponepaste.org/user/PonyStrangler

>Fortress Map:
http://i.imgur.com/Nfy0UK4.png?2

>Bulletin Board:
https://ponepaste.org/7806

>Previous Thread:
https://mlpol.net/mlpol/207806
https://mlpol.net/mlpol/archive/207806 for when the current one reaches archive status
Southern Canterlot Outskirts: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.279380
279603
>>278573 →
>Compartmentalizing an information chunk as per necessary protocols for containing unwanted data, the MIU performs a clean storage of.. something.
>You were confused as why you'd done such until it pings back several lines of text explaining that you'd experienced a traumatic mental shock which nearly caused a total breakdown.
>The data contained would not be unsealed until the interface was notified that you were entirely prepared to re-encounter the previously mentioned event.

>Moderately puzzled while WItch-Two categorizes one data vault for your explicit access, leaving several low level hexadecimal training programmes open as well.
'Within perhaps five Imperial Standard months at most you ought to be capable of directly reading hexadecimal. The programming facet is considerably more advanced than Binary which may take a further five to eight, though Adronal and myself have enough proficiency in its use to create rendered images using the ancient Pre-M3 art known as ASCII.'
'you say that like some kind of secret. only reason binary is popular = simplicity'
'If I had hands I would slap you for that insult!'
'if i had hands id weld you inside a steel fruit storage room with two xenos chiropteran fillies. inquisitor would sanction them first. probably.'
'...You would not dare Tox, nor would she.'
'dont tempt me and i wont ask'

"If you say so, but I'll save a snack bar for you!"
>Taking a quick peek at the humans and prancing pegasus leaving, the Scion's comm signal translates an amused subvocal noise.
*"No apologies necessary Enginseer, I am incapable of forming an opinion on your mental state. The Inquisitor's thought on this situation is: sanctioned flesh must always be willing, but the mind is a different, oft scornful creature to be taught, not derided."*
>...Inquisitors sure knew some strange TFTD's.

"Three hour here no get in, hate do nothing. Argue argue argue, nothing. You po-ny, she no had prob.. pro.. ..danger."
>Despite a painful language barrier, the girl's face creases in conspiratorial wilfulness.
"No see danger. Why I not escort you? Have big good gun."
>Patting her archaic submachine gun in a manner that was trusting, but quite comical given she was barely capable of keeping it at low ready.
>Hand raising to tilt back the awful helmet that would make even Kriegers disgusted, she gives a sour 'ech'.
"You hear Sergei: he say Spiral leave. Spiral.. fun po-ny, lot teach, best friend all. He make lots magic tings, easy tings any use, build new tings. No danger like touch-"
>Pointing at your incomparably advanced weapons and mechadendrite, then slumps her shoulders forwards.
"You tings. Lost Spiral made many us sad. Other po-nies? No time make magic tings for us, no teach much."
Mallia Castella
!mAMS0VcYXk
7909680
?
No.279603
280256
>>279380
>Mallia's eyes then snap more towards Raindrop and the Stormtrooper as they left the room, her expression normalizing quickly as she beamed and smiled towards the pegasus knight.
"Thank you!!~"
>Mallia remarked in the pegasus' direction with some wholehearted, albeit playfully intoned gratitude. Followed by a broad little wave that almost looked childish.
>Then casts a look in Chisan's direction as he also goes to leave. Giving him a brief, but very intent stare.
"*Thanks, Stormtrooper.*"
>She simply replied to them, with an undertone of inexplicable anxiety in her tone still present in her voice when she addressed him.
>The woman had to bite her lip to keep herself from speaking further. Now that her helmet was off, she couldn't so easily hide the look of slight, but tangible worried agitation in her shifting eyes.

>A look of confusion and worry briefly overtook Mallia immediately after, making her eyes visibly trail off to the side while her brow furrowed for basically a single, but still tangible second whilst. Visibly double taking on something that wasn't really there, but in her mind.
>She takes in the prompt explanation from her machine spirit. The mention of "traumatic mental shock" made her confusion abate into self-conscious shame, and instantly decides to simply begrudgingly accept the fact for the time being.
>She mentally recites a Prayer to the Omnissiah to thank the machine spirit for being so thoughtful of her mental state, reassured once again of the knowledge that they were there for her as she was for them.
>Then moves on quickly to not dwell on it.

(OhhhHHHh! The last time I actually got to sit down and learn something manually instead of having knowledge grafted and-or uploaded to my brain was when I was with my mother.)
>Mallia's inner voice and mood instantly became that much more cheerful at the prospect of learning new skills!
(How wonderful!! I am excited! Here's hoping I will have time for that)

>And then quickly becomes EVEN MORE confused by the notion of "chriopteran fillies"
>And also mildly alarmed by how the two Companions seem to imply having her lock one into a storage room with said hybrid ponies in it. She had a distinct, half-worried and half-amused smile on her face as she slowly tried to refocus on the girl that she was talking to...
(??????)
>That's all Mallia could really push out in their direction. Her nose slightly crinkling up like an accordion... A wry, amused smirk appearing on her face while her brow furrowed with worry at the same time.

>Putting the MANY questions she had away for the time being, she fully focused onto the girl as she gave her that grin. Which, of course, made Mallia smirk back confidently as she nods along in understanding, in spite of her struggle with the language.
>Mallia then glanced down at her submachingun to eye it with a more intent, explorator gaze for a moment...
>Though the mention of 'Spiral' made her snap out of that, quirking a brow with great interest...

"Don't worry. I may not be Spiral, but I can make new things too..."
>Mallia softly replied with a warm tone of assurance towards the girl she still didn't know the name of.
"I could learn to make all sorts of things and give them out to brave people such as you!"
>Mallia's smile grows into an excited grin, nodding her head to herself once with some eagerness!

"My name is Mallia Castella. Sorry for not introducing myself."
>She adds on a more lowkey tone as her glance turned back to the Interior of the vault, and her tone becomes more serious as she shifts back to the more important subject.
"You're right though. I would trust you to escort me for this. I'm more worried about other things though..."
>Mallia nods towards the girl confidently, then pouts with a look of thought, tilting her head as her eyes wander over the colorful rows of safes from where she stood again.
"But I DO want to go inside very badly too. Hm... Hmmmm..."

>She gives it all a second to think about it... Her face slowly contorting into a genuinely torn, and uncomfortable grimace. Swallowing her lip and shuffling on her boots, eyeing down to her helmet as if to seek advice from it.

"--Hhhhnn--I feel very uncomfortable doing this without letting anyone know... I'm going to hear if the others will get mad at us if we do this on our own. Juuuust to be thoughtful. I wouldn't want the pegasus knight to get annoyed at me."
>Mallia puts her helmet back on gracefully, securing it with a trained quickness as she taps into the Vox again once she fully donned it.

*"Stormtrooper Chisan, Knight Raindrop. The younger operator here wishes to escort me inside of the vault so that we can begin to explore it. How--uh--irresponsible would it be if I entered while solely under her protection, in your opinions?"*
>Mallia stated with a slightly quieter, more serious voice that may or may not be audible to the girl staying relatively close to her.
Razorback Clinic: Doctor Carlos, Receiving in Operating Room #1
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.279817
350211
>>278637 →
>Standing on tip hooves for a better look at Snakebite, Flicker spots the silver diagnostic spell, horn tip sparking in faded red patterns and pulling it to her.
>Skipping through scenes as if it were a digital recorder, she stops to give Carlos a dumbfounded side glance.
"You were one of the original humans to arrive? I am unaware of previous separations save for a recent number, four in total I believe, not including two missing and presumed dead. I know little of Caliya, mostly his medical history and herdship with Allys."
>Brushing a hoof across the face, then floating it up to eye level, the Ward squints in deep frustration.
"I regret to inform you that Doctor Novus is no longer in existence. He may have chosen to relinquish his ka but I cannot be certain. He was killed sometime earlier this year and the circumstances relating to his return are unknown to me."
"Kraut is highly active and in a state of thought, no danger there save for a small amount of social isolation. Roust spoke with him earlier. She has promised to research the growth and adaptation of a human-shaped Changeling armor. Hm, I believe Gale Pyremane, or something similar, of the Lunar Council also spoke with him. ..I do not like her type, far too marely secrets and dangers."
"Caliya is fully unresponsive. Roust and myself were able to sense minute traces of activity, though we were unable to locate a single thread of consciousness. Numerous sporadic sub-thoughts, recalls of extreme pain, burning, impressions of danger, futility, loss.. and deep, bitter regret."
>Moving the spell program back over Snakebite, she lets out a deep breath.
"Denra's whereabouts are currently unknown as of midnight or so. Hodch has disappeared as well for the third time tonight. The first is a renowned Golem constructor, which was my original thought, as for the second.. nopony quite knows what Hodch's talents are, yet I suspect he has a deep wealth of knowledge on Necromarecy. And, according to information gathering efforts it appears nearly all Equestrian factions are in the process of or have currently deployed all forces, Guard and medical both, to preempt three prominent threats."
"This leaves three potential choices, but they are not ones that I would ever choose to confer with normally:"
"The Malurians of the Ferron clan and their Druid allies throughout the New Everfree and Old Everfree have a.. the skills, knowledge, and capabilities necessary to grow replacemarent limbs and most organs. They have a severe, demonstrably amoral attitude; to them the natural body is simply a luxury. I have heard rumors of ponies that seem to be entirely composed of flora, but I do not know if that is fearmongering."
"There was a small Necromarecer clan somewhere in the Moors. They seem to have been killed or dispersed sometime in the past six months. However, the Vigilites of Stalliongrad are perhaps the most truly respected Necromarecer organization on Tallus outside of the Lunars, but Razorback has apparently inflicted grave harm upon the Vigil. They will most certainly not aid us, but they may provide knowledge if approached either formally or diplomatically."
>Turning an intensely hateful glare at the floor, Nova gives a sharp tongue click.
"There is the option of acquiring a series of words best left unsaid from one of the Unspoken. Most ponies refer to them as the Wild Ones, ancestral ponies of great power thought to be representations of the Elemarents. The alicorn sisters convinced most to seal themselves away. During my travels I became aware of potential locations for thre-"
>Eyes rolling back into her head, Nova's jaw left halfway open as she slumps down onto the floor from an obvious narcoleptic attack.
Operation: The Basin Floods In Sacrifice
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.279831
280340
>>278667 →
>LEADERSHIP: +2 to all Assault, Evasion & Reaction Speed rolls
>PENALTY: -1 to all rolls from Operational Fatigue

>Even the Strikers' use of the long banned Starbolts fails to so much as harm a single Tainted, the icons of those still alive flash bright yellow and begin streaming north.
>Support Strikers: ROUTED
>Immediately replaced by silent Hunter-Killers smashing through the few vaporous ponies left, their charges thoroughly annihilate the smaller warped forms.
[1d6 = 2] <Honored Dispatch: 120
[1d6 = 2] <Pride of Legions Past

>The fresh reinforcemarents break off into paired swarms of wing-to-wing, reverse half-circles to entrap the much larger threats:
>Squadron 1 piles onto the eastern Tainted in a mass of claws, hooves, and teeth, seeking to drag it down regardless of the jagged lances ejecting from it's body.
>Squadron 2 sweeps around the frenzied bloodhost to rush at the currently unoccupied western one's legs, though a handful are immediately sent flying from a resoundingly loud sideways kick.
[1d6+7 = 11] <Hunter-Killer Squadron 1
>vs:
[1d6+3 = 7] <Mass #1

[1d6+5 = 10] <Hunter-Killer Squadron 2
>vs:
[1d6+3 = 9] <Mass #3

>Dispassionately noting the bloodhost seemed not to be suffering combat degradation, the angle of your first slug is high and right, skimming the Tainted's massive right cheek and throwing off a cloud of quickly reddening mist.
>SPAS slamming back into your shoulder and pulling it left to compensate, the second gouges a roughly soccerball sized tunnel left of center and the third drifting low, dangerously close to the bloodhost.
>Expecting a fourth, only a loud click of the bolt locking open on empty answers.
[1d6+3 = 8] <Mass #2
>vs:
[1d6+6 = 10] <???

>A new set of contacts appears onscreen to the south: four massive gray formations accompanied by distant vaporous howling.
[1d6+4 = 5] <Arrival Time

>North and amidst the scattered contacts of fleeing earth ponies, an additional trio of Hunter-Killer squadrons had formed, now streaking towards Basin Village at an unusually high rate.
[1d6 = 4] <Arrival Time

>Between the roiling currents of blood encompassing the sacrificial basin, the Dark Horse Cultist reaches upwards with both of her blades, rapidly delivering a series of beckoning kee's mixed with painfully sharp whistles.
[1d6 = 4] <Ancestral Summoning
Razorback Fortress: The Library, Main Room
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.279844
279851
>>278837 →
>>278846 →
>>278848 →
>Locating 'S' from across the room, that section was much larger as forty or so bookcases took up half the wall.
>While picking through the staggering array of mostly readable titles, walking back to the beginning and starting over leads to collecting five large encyclopedia volumes that seemed appropriate.
>The first was a thorough introduction to Solar nobility and royalty from Pre-Old Canterlot times to 29,980, including a rather massive index on lineages, politics, laws related to or against, specific traditions and ceremonies, their economic impacts on Equestria or abroad, then a short disclosure on societal influences.
>The second was a thorough primer from 29,995 on common Solar activities ranging from daily life throughout Equestria to a curiously monotone index of earth pony, pegasi, and unicorn cultures, beliefs, practices, and living standards.
>The third was entirely based on politics, freshly printed yet untouched for reasons beyond your comprehension, that described the four most common systems in use: the Diarchy, which supported Equestrian Communalism, Stalliongradian Social-Communalism, and Clanherds.
>Checking this one's index, there were several dozen other minor or tiny political systems spread throughout Equestria itself, yet these were based on small regions or individual towns.
>Probably meant to be a companion to the previous one, the fourth was a heavily scuffed and worn volume on current Solar faction laws, printed earlier this year.
>Peering through the first few index pages there was no marention of individual laws, only grouped topics and region specifics.
>Dreading the fifth's colossal size, this one's index was a 100+ page compendium that listed, in alphabetical and a small numerical order, all known Solar regions, sub-factions, cities, towns, groups, organizations, military forces, specific lineages, and dozens of individuals.
>Judging by the materials present, you could easily read one of the first four books, or maybe get through 10% of the fifth in one sitting.
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.279845
280007
>>278905 →
>Unable to see the lowest small step, the stairs definitely made a full turn and part of another since your voice echoed down cleanly.

>Head bending forwards to sniff at the secret access, the mare rocks back to give a partial yawn.
"Eh, Mess Hall or Library for the first one, sometimes the Arena if it's nice and cool. Dunno about any hidden Armories, there's enough weapons packed in half the rooms I've seen each of them counts. Last one would be Hodch's smoking room next to the Alchemy Lab. Him and that other yellow unicorn have some weird stuff in there. I can't read but they sure look scary."
>It took you a second to realize this one batmare was coherent, relatively normal, and had an actual memory.
>Useful, perhaps, but also suspicious.

>Hearing a faint ring of stone traveling downwards, the Nightclaw's thinly armored wings shrug for her.
"I can hold off, not like a couple hours more will hurt any-"
>One set of wingclaws reaches forwards to scrape under a neck plate, which stops as her head tilts.
"Small space for a human though. Defensive measure? No, limited amount of material, there's not much stone around here. You claustrophobic or anything? I'm not."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.279850
280009
>>278906 →
"Normally I'd say good luck to him but in this case-"
>Raising both forehooves to cursorily examine, Naliyna sets the left one on another application with a frown.
"I dunno if he's being realistic or talking out of rage and frustration. That one a while ago.. wait, you weren't here. Well, I guess here's some bad news for you this time: there was a Construct that came out of the Library, or something. About killed Kitang in about thirty seconds. I got done locking the Clinic up and came back here, was going to send all my paperwork to the Enclave but then I heard.. well, way back when I was traveling with my family we wandered across one in the Lowland Plains when the snow was over our heads. Took us about five minutes to bring it down, each of us got hit a few times. I'll never forget those sounds, and they were the same as that one-"
>Pointing her right forehoof towards the southwest of the Pagoda.
"Right out there was making. I went after it and tried to keep it busy, a lot of humans helped kill it then it turned into lava. Orange lava, which is way worse. All that's left is a puddle of stuff. ..at least it doesn't stink."
>Enthusiasm muted temporarly the Crystal mare leans back to give a hopeful smile.
"I understand some humans don't really know where they fit here but I don't believe that at all. There's a place for everypony and everyone if they're willing to have it. Also if you really want a ship there's that invisible one in the Enclave, dunno what shape it's in though. You'll have to talk to that red eyed batpony, the one always sleeping around the docks because Amerose said he technically owns it, or something."
>Leaning forwards a fraction, her snout scrunches with an intent stare, the scar-laden mare ALMOST patient.
>Politely taking the paper, her expression turns seriours upon immediately reading off in a low tone along with small fits of rapid ear flicking and rising interest.
"Some of these I'm tempted to get right now, but let me think-"
[1d6+5 = 11] <Master Appraisal
[1d6+5 = 7]
[1d6+5 = 9]
[1d6+5 = 8]

>Lowing the page briefly, the left eyebrow raises incredulously.
"I'm not quite sure what to make of the last one. What's an alicorn weapon and why does somepony want a million Bits for it?"
Cheto
!!uO1R771nQs
e13851e
?
No.279851
280669
>>279844
>Cheto lets out a little sigh of relief at all the information currently available, rather pleased he found what he was looking for, body relaxing slightly.
(At least I won't go blind into this new world.)
>Skimming the first relevant book highlighted by his senses in accordance to his parameters, the human starts to consider his options more thoroughly.
(This book should surely make most contacts in Solar nobility easier to establish and maintain, and considering I'm technically part of them, it'd be an essential asset to have in my head for a smooth first impression as well as identify which noble lines would be easier to cater and/or impactful on available resources.)
>With the first book on his free off hand, José picks the second book up and quickly glance at its summary, the mind within continues plotting.
(This'll surely be useful to start a relationship with other Solars allround, be it nobles or otherwise. However, there are more pressing matters I should learn first. This can be on the backburner for later.)
>Setting the last book he picked up back in its place, Gallo proceeds to read its index, humming softly in an absent-minded sing song tone.
(Understanding the political mechanisms used is also a great way to both appeal to nobles and learn the common pony's wants, needs and desires. It would certainly help as much as knowing the noble lineages, only approached from the ground up... )
>Shaking his head, Gallo decides to keep the book for his later decision alongisde the first book he skimmed, making sure to glance around him in case he accidentally bumps into something, someone or somepony.
>With a swift inhale, the male promptly follows his inspection to the fourth highlighted book, nodding softly at its application and ensuring he handles it with care.
"Hm..."
>He frowns softly at the distinction betweeen the the rugged book about laws and the pristine condition politics book
(...at least it's used, and it'd help me immensly, but through extreme caution I can likely avoid any illegal encounters...
(...or perhaps the book on politics doesn't really matter, at least to the ones that frequent this place.)
>One cursory glance at the immense fifth book as he places the fourth one back into position, the human is flabbergasted
>The feeling only increases when he realizes what it contained, mouth pursing slightly.
(...this definitely needs to be read after the other four pertinent books.)
>With a light exhale, he sets the fifth book back in its spot, exchanging his gaze between the two books picked out from the rest.
(Either to learn about the noblility or the system that keeps the Solar nations running...)

>After a few tense seconds, the diplomat settles on the first of the five books highlighted by his head, setting the third book back in its previous position before he stumbled onto it.
(Alright, let's hope it's not outdated.)
>With that last thought, he commences his long awaited reading session on the introduction to Solar nobility and royalty.
[1d6 = 3]<Amateur Researcher
[1d6+6 = 7]<Library Research
The L.O.N.T
e9ec428
?
No.279905
Shocked PredElk GOOGLY EYES.jpg
Dream Mav told me to do this.
Ivan the Stalker
!EnJhCCu3Ns
c058d89
?
No.280007
280673
>>279845
>Ivan glanced back at the batmare as she shifted around, pursing his lips.
"Meeting hall for VERY secretive stuff."
>He felt he had to point out.
"Stuff that is best left to very hidden rooms under a workshop."
>He pushed the suspicions back for the moment, since she wasn't eating his face. Or clothes off.

"Very well. You can go first if you want."
>Ivan paused.
"Claustrophobic no... Excessively wary of small tunnels where Tushkano can lurk in packs ready to eat someone's face off, yes."
>He grimaced a little.
"Granted I doubt that they would lurk down here unchecked, at the very least."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
c058d89
?
No.280009
280677
>>279850
"Given enough time and effort, much can be achieved. Though rage and frustration is a decent alternative to put a dent into something."
>He grimaced at what she described.
"Having a place here and knowing where we fit in are two different things, unfortunately. I'm supposed to be a captain of a vessel, and right now I don't have one, so I don't exactly fully fit in."
>He gave a small nod.
"Though I appreciate the lead. It would be nice to have the chance to take the helm of another destroyer."
>He idly wondered if he could manage to work his way up to battleship here.
"Mm, either the weapon of an alicorn or one to kill them, I'd wager."
Natilda
!S8UWokkL4Q
c058d89
?
No.280174
280681
>>277575 →
"It is always the time to argue over punishments, Wild."

>Listening to Wild, I grimace softly, rubbing my chin.
"Okay, since we both agree that fighting these things is detrimental to our current interest, we should not."
>Frowning, I look over the screens and things inside the compartment that I could reach.
>"While I know how to operate a tank..."
>Shaking my head, I sigh.
"Direct control will be a last resort for me, Wild. You're... much different than a T-34 and I wouldn't be able to easily control what you let me."
>Sighing softly, I glance at the salvaging tendrils.
"You can withstand 100M depths, correct? If so, grab a bit more and start heading further in."
A Cryptic Lunar Crypt: Breaking & Marentoring
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.280245
280252 280264
>>278948 →
>Flicking her ears towards the earth ponies assembling into Watch Guard squads, the mare squints angrily towards the still-dancing pegasus.
"Them. I will not cross the Great Ocean again with her."
>Leaning off your side to step forwards, her wing pulls across your saddle and off in slow deliberateness.
[1d6+4 = 5] <?????
[1d6+4 = 10] <?????
[1d6+4 = 6] <?????
[1d6+4 = 6] <?????
>Head tilting up, she pauses to twist the claws about, giving a heavy, matronly pat on your shoulder while delivering a relieved half-smile.
"Thank you, pegasus. I know not your intentions but you are owed the deepest of favors. This resting place of our ancestors shall be finished and I will ensure they be venerated as they ought be. Take the Night's blessings with you."
>Taking one full pace, the Councilmare hisses at putting her full weight on the crude prosthetic yet continues limping towards the earth stallion leader.

>>279054 →
>Patiently waiting for you to speak, the platoon leader's face undergoes multiple apexes of recognition, deliberately trying to suppress reading your emotions.
>Jaw tightening once, he bestows a heavy hearted empathetic salute at you.
"Not your failure Nightblade, you have greater concerns than this. Take care of your herd and sing my praises for them when better times come."

"I must hope so! Haven't seen the Basin however long we've been asleep but I hope it's the same as we left it!"
>The Sorceror-armored filly giggles behind her snout armor, then vanishes in a cloud of gray mist which had the exact same scent that Spiral, Belltower, and Hodch use to enter the Void spectrums.

>Finding no Lunarite presence around the Dagor, while climbing in to turn the key the entire vehicle sinks several inches, the Anchor likely and successfully attached.
>Hopefully with few complications.
>Luna's filly ceases her airheaded motions as you move past her, she speaks in a confused tone using the modern pegasi dialect.
>Which you didn't understand, but was probably a 'what the hay is going on' question.
>In the rearview mirror you sight the Watch Guard leader shouting at his five squads of psions, an equal number of rumbling, black-tinged stone gateways shuddering into visibility.
"Deploy close-transit gateways at Tartarus Isle Gate Three-Brave and commarend every available pony in full combat status from there into Basin Village on to the Lunar Citadel! Anything less than full compliance with the Treaty of Canterlot's Desperate Alliance clause; any lack of total and complete cooperation will incur penalties best left unsaid!"
>Aided by a helpful Support Striker the unnamed Lunar Councilmare is helped along, quickly flashing a fanged, triumphant grin towards the Dagor, and is then lead into the first gateway.
[1d6+6 = 10] <Arrival Time

>Drawn in by your command, Sunny clambers up and into the Dagor's open passenger door easily, then moves over the Golem to sit on the center seat between you and Boris.
>Luna's daughter leaps into the back with little more than a flick of her unusually broad wings, quickly folding while standing in the bed's center with a thoroughly excited expression.
>Visibly unperturbed by the music nor the sudden start as the Dagor's wheels screech off a thick black and gray rubber cloud, the right forehoof lifts while shouting in a cheerful tone.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wr9ie2J2690
Jeff
!!pR5PIj/cAo
5cddc34
?
No.280252
280264 280340 281136
driving_351.jpg
>>280245
>>278948 →
>Thankfully getting off with an empathetic pardon from the squadron leader, Jeff gives him a return nod of a salute as they behind to for off while opening up some gates.
>Those... would seriously come in handy.
>Like, literally any time.
>As Tartarus Isle makes its own movements, the Lunarites delve into a Void realm as well as the Dagor sinks slightly with the spells weight.
>Sunny moves in next you him, Marshmallow in the bed, and Mercy hopefully somewhere in the Dagor's sitting arrangements.
>As he gets the Dagor up to speed, it's diesel V8 growling like and angry beast, Jeff sets his TacPad's gps for the Basin to track their progress as well as an ETA at their current speed.
>Wheels peeling, Deep Purple blaring, and the crypt quickly shrinking from behind, Jeff feels like he can finally breath in a ssigh of relief for a brief moment.
>Aside from lightly banging his head to his tunes, he shifts his eyes to the pegasus hire with a nod of approval.
"*sigh* That went... so smooth at the end there. Nice job with the councilmare, Sunny. We'll be back at the Basin in no time."
>Which made him realize something: he has a lot of odd passengers, especially with the Basin Village fully mobilizing more forces to the Citadel. At some point, he may have to deal with the same reactions the councilmare previously had to. If anything just to check them for security purposes. He'd much rather fast-track that part.
>He wonders... he does have a Moon Orb.
>>278667 →
>Jeff tries reaching Clemency through Moon Orb messaging.
*Hey Clem, it's Jeff. You still in the Basin Village? I'm carrying a lot of passengers back: some thousand-year old vampires that want to help fight on the Citadel and may or may not eventually go crazy and have a taboo reputation. I don't want it to be a shock to all the troops there.*

>Awaiting a response, Jeff has a sudden need.
>A need. For speed.
>He hasn't been able to open the Dagor like thus since last time...
>So he decides getting a little more gas into the truck, while maintaining control.
[1d6+8 = 11] <M.Driving: High Manual Control
[1d6+8 = 13]
[1d6+8 = 11]
[1d6+8 = 11]
Southern Canterlot Outskirts: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.280256
280380
>>279603
>Displaying a moving image of herself with arms folded and head shaking, the Admiral's data stream was curious.
'I have not yet had cause to question the effectiveness of Administratus Mechanicum training programmes and regimens until now Enginseer, yet your words state such are not true absolutes. I cannot help save to think that you have experienced certain failures and flaws.'
>Experiencing a reverberating groan from Tox-11, the sour tech-destroyer's Binary comes across as tightly honed old anger.
'raw experience beats digital knowledge and scribed books, witch. you never saw that from the lofty citadel you once had'
'Do not mistake my words for slander. I am well aware of the discrepancies between the Administratus Mechanicum's varieties of servants and their training yet I am confused, Adronal. Was Enginseer Castella's knowledge purposefully flawed, simply incomplete, or unnecessarily ignorant regarding the exacting standards of Mars training?'
'none of the above. let enginseer read inquisitors books but teach nuances witch, best option for her'

>Now turned and physically leaning forwards at you, the young not-Vostroyan guardgirl hadn't stated anything, which didn't make her failed attempt at overhearing the silent conversation less amusing.
>Recovering unabashedly, her offhand points back at the trio of L-flashlight sbehind, then taps her archaic submachine gun with a simple grin.
"You make good light or big gun, you make good friend all 'round, we no picky."
>Face creasing in concern, the young girl struggles emotionally before speaking in a painfully slow tone.
"Am name Nasiksta Dystregatov. Guard of train before here, nyet. Am call Nasik by friend po-nies, is cute, they think. Am call Nashka by human, not know what word mean."
>Rendering the codename through dozens of filters, your MIU comes across 'Nashka' as correlating to a long extinct pre-Age of Strife cultural file as the designation 'shield against gods', a purely feminine name from EurAsia which also had a subtle implication towards regicide.
>Lightly stepping towards the gateway leading inwards, the girl pauses to turn back before shamelessly cocking an eyebrow.
"That good be wary, world not alway nice. Be wary po-ny first, sometime po-ny know danger, not say easy."

>Receiving two clicks in tandem, Chisan speaks first in a firmly neutral tone amidst low chatter and the sound of something sizzling.
*"No threats were encountered, sensed, scanned, nor engaged inside the vault, Enginseer. I do not suspect enemy actions though I must state to be cautious regardless. The young female human's capabilities are more than adequately capable of defending you."*
>That was rather high praise coming from a Tempestus Scion.
*"Equivalent of Planetary Defense Guard with one cycle of training. According to the Inquisitor's files she is experienced as a heavy gunner, registered as having approximately six months of experience and significant tutelage under Commissar Sergei's tutelage. I have no logical reason to state her inclinations are incorrect nor dangerous though the call is yours, Enginseer."*
>Hearing an aery sniff through the comms, Raindrop continues where Chisan leaves off.
*"She's been here five months and in training? You hu`um are weirdly dedicated.. I can't say no, Miss Castella. Honestly I'm way more tired than I thought, brain's not entirely here right now and I forgot my saddlepack before we left. I say tell her she can be your Mareguard for a half hour but if trouble comes up just shout for us, I'll be there even if I don't get a chance to rest."*
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.280264
281136 281143
1224408.jpeg
>>280245

>Sunny watched the councilmare go with a raised eyebrow.
>As if she hadn't made her intentions perfectly clear not five minutes ago.
>She supposed she could forgive a little forgetfulness given the trauma the batmare had just suffered and with weightier matters ahoof.
>She'll be fine, at least, she live at any rate. However long that would be depended solely on the councilmare now.
>Jeff's shouted command to pile in had her clambering over Boris to ride up front, the mare had never been more inspired to ride an auto carriage.
>She turned her ears back so that the loud music wouldn't hurt her hearing too much. Human music was loud.

>>280252

"Just doing my job, sir, I can't very well allow Razorback's relationship with one of its allies be compromised."
>The praise was nice to hear all the same, though she'd have preferred if that altercation had been avoided altogether. No sense wasting time on what-ifs and could-have-beens though. It was done.
>Sunny withdrew a little into herself as the Dagor sped up and considered her options, there were a few things she could do once they returned to the fortress.
>Get to work on synthesising the missing component of Ambrosia.
>Construct research.
>Or redeploy to the Crag Moors to recover Vanil after Kraut's second failure to do so.
>Two of those would take a lot of time and effort, she needed to prioritise. Recovering Vanil would be quicker and relatively easier than developing countermeasures to the constructs or making an alchemical breakthrough that even Luna had failed to achieve.
>It was nice to feel the wind in her mane, it wasn't flight, but going fast was close enough.
Karl "Spruce" Osmundsson
!aGuq39zDO2
e568556
?
No.280266
280269 283594
>>277951 →
>>278013 →

>Spruce's gaze went from Golden to the Chitqu as it investigated the golden statue. He barely seemed to notice that Golden was still speaking to him as he narrowed his eyes, watching as the furball started bounding back towards them in a seeming panic.
>That couldnt be good.
>Now he looked back to Golden, and then to Adon as the sensation hit them.
"Uh oh..."
>He felt the furball once more hit his leg, and scurry back up to its position on his shoulder.
>And then, it hit him all at once as the man became nearly transparent along with the sensation of being sumberged and nearly choked at the feeling.
"By Odin... This... These are foul magics!"
>He yelled aloud, looking around in a bit of a panic.
>Spruce looked to the unicorn in a bit of disbelief.
"Gee, you think?"
>He mocks in response to the 'Its probably a trap'
>The man stands still for the moment as they stood there for a moment waiting for anything.

>When the voice of excelleon came over, telling them what they needed to do, Spruce was all too happy to comply.
>The paratrooper made like a tree and got the fuck out of there.
"Run Adon, as fast as Slepnir!"
>Though if he could live up to his own words? That was yet to be seen.

[1d6 = 1] B. Reaction Time
[1d6 = 2]

[1d6 = 5] B. Sprint
[1d6 = 6]
sage
96aaf53
?
No.280269
280337
>>280266
sorry to interrupt but i feel as if this line:
>"By Odin... This... These are foul magics!"
is here for something other than this game, like it's referring to something else.
Anonymous
7d0f151
?
No.280337
280338
>>280269
Hi Thrill.
Anonymous
96aaf53
?
No.280338
>>280337
Is this my new title?I feel honored.
Clemency
!6qV.txiH5g
6b058ed
?
No.280340
280867 281139 281143
>>279831
>Clemency watches as the Starbolts stream into the many Tainted but is dismayed when he saw that they had little effect
"Damn..."
>He is slightly relieved at the many MANY reinforcements streaming in by the Hunter Killers, filling the gap left routed by the Strikers
>They are fighting very viciously, whether that is due to suicidal tendencies or tenacity is left to be said
>After firing his SPAS and hearing it lock open, Clemency quickly went to reloading the thing with the last of his shells
>This is probably the first time he had ran out of ammunition for anything and he is slightly kicking himself for not bringing a backup rifle
>Spying the radar display, he sees the evolving situation
>The four formations of Tainted coming and the three Hunter Killer squadrons, he sees the imbalance in forces and they could be overwhelmed with existing forces
>With that, Clemency pulls up the MSOLG interface and uses his radar alongside the aperture lens on the satellite to provide a firing solution on the incoming Tainted formations
>Quickly deciding on the medium driver, he sets the target on the lead Tainted formation incoming
>He was about to put the command in for launch when his Moon Orb starts pinging him mentally

>>280252
>He quickly pulls the orb out of one of his many pouches and answers
>To his surprise it's Jeff, and from the tone it sounds like a welfare check
>Still breathing heavily, he tries to calm himself before answering
*Standby...*
>Clemency then launches the medium EM driver
[1d6+62 = 64] <M-S.O.L.G: Medium Mass Driver
[1d6+62 = 65]
*Vampires? Thousand years?*
>Clemency joked about how they would have a buffet here with the hundreds of gallons of blood flying around the alter
*Good to know your mission is successful. The Basin Village is being assaulted by Tainted. You remember those things on the Behemoth when we first got on this planet?*
>Looking up to the sky, he tries to spot the rod coming down
*The situation is getting bad. More formations of those things coming, multiple Hunter Killer squads helping, fucking blood sacrifices to help, and there a Tower General hiding out in Lann's shop after her Strikers got routed by the Tainted."
>Clemency does wish he know what's leading these Hunter Killer squadrons, he can probably tell them about the formations incoming
>He does need to see the conclusion of the Dark Horse Cultist's ritual before leaving
>Clemency just feels stuck at the moment so he dives back into stealth and waits for the coming assault
[1d6+3 = 4] <E. Stealth
[1d6+3 = 6]
[1d6+3 = 7]
[1d6+3 = 4]
[1d6+2 = 4]<M. Ambush
[1d6+2 = 8]
[1d6+2 = 5]
[1d6+2 = 7]
[1d6+2 = 6]
*Alright Jeff, go ahead and get those passengers out. I figured they don't want to come out of their hiding spot and into a battlefield immediately. I'll try to defend the village.*
Mallia Castella
!mAMS0VcYXk
7909680
?
No.280380
281156
>>280256
>For reasons perhaps personal, Mallia actually flinches. Hurt by the way Witch-Two puts her first statement.
>Though she wasn't fully sure how to feel about it. All she felt was a distinct anxiety, uncertainty, and, again, an overwhelming feeling of inadequacy. Which she keeps on the down low remembering what the Admiral told her about being 'too reactive'.

>After about 3 nano cycles of hesitation after Tox-11's last stream, Mallia attempts to elaborate.
(Perhaps I was inherently flawed if anything. That is a definite possibility given the range of my failures prior to now, but I digress.)
(My mother tightly controlled my learning process to a similar exacting standard. She thought the modern and standard methods were imperfect for my future, on principle, by prior experience as an Explorator. The predefined venues that were ahead once I became enlightened with the gifts of the Omnissiah and began to aspire towards being an Enginseer would influence me too much in a direction that was too close-minded to truly advance as a member of the Mechanicus, or to become an Explorator, by the more strictly adherent members of the Priesthood I would meet in that journey. She wanted me to appreciate ALL sources of knowledge as an Explorator would, especially xenotechnology and construction methods, and how to react when presented with it--how to study it, how to use it, instead of shunning it. Things that wouldn't be readily taught to any aspirant. Especially Archeotech.)
>Mallia's explanation ends on a somewhat calm, almost chipper emotion-stream. She took pride in this. Taking a nanosecond worth of pause to elaborate a little more.
>But then that emotion-stream dims somewhat with a moment of sheepish embarrassment, like a child talking between two adults.

(... Sorry if uh... That answer isn't... Satisfactory.)
>She winces at herself for apologizing--which had now become a knee-jerk reaction, shaking her head to herself.
(... And thank you.)

>Clenching her jaw and attempting to shrug off the anxiety that was building within her, taking slow, deep breaths. It only partially ruined the amusement of seeing the girl leaning towards her like that, trying to listen to the conversation.
>Of course, Mallia smiled--but it wasn't visible behind the helmet, she sort of just subtly tilted her head in her direction as Mallia's hands nervously rubbed each other--almost pacing in place with a visible discomfort, the left one squeezing the right one's wrist for a moment as her head turns to one side--staring at nothing for a moment, before bouncing back to the girl as the replies from her companions reach her through the vox.
>Once she hears the voice of Chisan, all of her movements stop. Completely.
>Then resumes a moment later, her shoulders relaxing as her hands limply hold each other at her waist against her robes--hands audibly, bumping clapping against her leg armor.

"*Thank you Stormtrooper. I will exercise caution as I have thus far. And thank you Miss Raindrop, have a nice meal!*"
>Mallia's voice suddenly almost peaks with excitement. She then tunes off, and fully fixed her gaze on Nasiksta.

>With a tone that was almost amused as it was warm, she answered Nashka--as if all the anxiety she had just displayed a moment before didn't even happen.
"You know, that is a very awesome name. Nashka. It means 'Shield Against Gods'. Heheh~!"
>Mallia nodded her head towards Nashka's submachingun, as her left hand goes to grab her shield again from her back, and strap it to her arm whilst she speaks.
"You can be my shield against the gods today, Nasiksta."
>Mallia nods deeply, theatrically and with an audible smirk from how playfully she states it.
"Knight Raindrop Raspberry says you can be my mareguard for half an hour, too."
>With that, Mallia brings her shield close to her waist, and starts stepping closer to the threshold of the gateway, walking slowly to give Nasiksta time to get either beside her, or behind her, to defend her as she went.
>She stands juuuust before the gateway, peeking around from the outside while silently mustering the courage to go inside...

"Given that my first introduction to Razorback fortress was some sort of killing-machine called a Construct... Yeah I'm more than a bit wary, I don't really understand what's going on yet..."
>Mallia quietly spoke in Nasiksta's direction, her tone filled with trepidation and excitement.
"Not to mention dying and coming back to life on this world? Kinda weird. It makes me question the purpose of my existence right now. Everything is scary and fascinating at the same time..."
>Mallia's mechadendrite comes to life, mostly to swing ahead of her and tap the tool-bearing 'hand' against her helmet's mouth piece, tapping on her chin with the top half of it.

>She casts her eyes towards Nasiksta, giving her an eager nod.
"Inside we go then!?"
>Mallia reaches down to her laspistol holster and draws out the Hotshot laspistol, keeping it ready and pointed towards the ground ahead of her.
(Don'tkillmedon'tkillmedon'tkillmedon'tkillme)
>Mallia takes a CONFIDENT stride through the gateway, standing tall! And as soon as she is on the other side, she'd slow down to an amble and start getting acquainted with the interior, and any sounds there might've been there. Slowly walking closer to the 'center' of the vault to take in everywhere as she does a small 360 turn of the room, glancing up at the 'ceiling'.

>She tries to be veryyyy slow on walking further, in case she has to dart back outside in a hurry...

"Herewegoherewego... It's Explorator time. Here we go Nasiksta..."

<B. Perception
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6 = 1]

>She makes sure to also tap on the vox once... Just in case, once she's inside.
*"... Vox check. I'm past the gateway now. Still hearing me loud and clear, right?"*
Razorback Fortress: Library, The Sitting Room
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.280570
[1d6 = 5] <Which one of Hodch's "apprentices" temporarily takes his duties?
Result of 1: Blue Gemflower
Result of 2: Lightning Candy
Result of 3: Pearl Mist
Result of 4: Amber Rose
Result of 5: Honey-Spiced Mango Shortcake
Result of 6: ?????
Razorback Fortress: The Library, Main Room
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.280669
280680
>>279851
>Neither human, pony, nor anything else enters or exits the Library while you compile thoughts together.
>Taking the first and examining all the exquisite sofas around the place, you drop into the closest human sized one and crack open the volume.
>Starting on the first page it was difficult to steadily focus on the basics as each name and marention took you back to the index, then to specific clauses, rules, laws, traditions, policies, regulations, individuals, families, lineages, factions, regions, nations...
>Worse yet, the politics of Equestria's nobility and royalty were beyond unorthodox as communalism, barely understandable to modern humans, had evolved into a highly adaptable ideology that bound all ponies together regardless of their species, especially enemies, in the pursuit of advancing equinity.
>Most jarring was that status had a spiritual mark of distinction to achieve and acquire when supported by commoners: excellent leaders were likewise excellent rulers whom could be counted upon to make correct decisions and settlemarents that benefited all ponies, while poor, abusive, or inept leaders suffered quickly increasing loss of status.
>Narrowing down the most common historical equines and keeping mental notes on their progress throughout roughly twenty-five millennias worth of condensed yet orderly information, by the time the rear cover closes you had a good grasp on what made the generally honorable Solar factions, and their dozens of closely allied sub-factions, continue to function.
>Which had also exhausted you, fingers acting slower than the brain could compensate and correct for.

>Having not noticed the interior lighting changing, the Library was now completely dark except for numerous red LED's, or something similar, above you.
>Outside, the formerly bright red patches of moonlight had given way to an unfamiliar, murky gray mist that heralded dawn's approach.
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop, Underground Tunnel
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.280673
280674
>>280007
>Helmet lifting up for a few seconds, the batmare realizes you couldn't see her face and instead splays her wings out in disbelief.
"I doubt it. How secretive can an already secret bunch of secret humans get outside of being even more secret batponies? I keep telling everypony that you all aren't batponies, I'd be able to smell the differences. My three best guesses: somepony's hideaway when they don't want to deal with anything, some tunnels that access all the important places, or somepony's stash for all the stuff they don't want touched. Don't know which is more likely, never met Bren or the so-called 'crazy' unicorn that did a lot of work on this fortress."
>The Nightfang's wings fold onto her sides tightly, slowly tapping the first step downwards once with her hoof.
"I don't mind, not the first time I've explored something like this. Won't be the last either."
>Visibly checking for traps while continuing downwards, the mare gives a brief snicker-kek.
"Dunno what that word means but sounds Rushyan. Haven't seen fluffrats, forest drakes, green snakes, even those little rock eating wurms the New Everfree's famous for in the courtyard since getting assigned. There's quite a few ponies around this place so I really doubt much can sneak in."
[1d6+4 = 6] <E.Perception
[1d6+4 = 7]
[1d6+4 = 9]
[1d6+2 = 4] <E.Traps
[1d6+2 = 7]
[1d6+2 = 3]
Ivan the Stalker
!EnJhCCu3Ns
c058d89
?
No.280674
281593
>>280673
>Ivan hummed as she talked, idly nodding in return.
"Unless I've become so sober I've turned into a secret batpony, I doubt that I am one."
>Though anomalies were weird like that. He was sure he wasn't, though.
"Yeah, they're... small dog sized rodents with large teeth and larger claws, if one is near there's definitely a pack about. They're the go to reason for a Stalker to carry along a shotgun."
>He starts following after her, glancing for traps himself.
[1d6 = 6] <E.Perception
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6 = 2]
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
e137111
?
No.280675
281601
>>278925 →
>Pareidolia's face twinges briefly with concern as an unusual window he doesn't recognize appears and disappears.
'I understand the ramifications. The Shibuya Protocol only allows for such actions when all other options have been exhausted or the situation is otherwise untenable. What was that window?'

>As Emerald leaves, he ponders his A.I.'s behavior.

[Uncertain how it will react to encountering the biological counterpart its personality is based on. Will likely diverge as an eventuality if Committee experimental theory from the Amadeus and Salieri systems hold true. Will need Spiral's opinion.]

>He remains silent while listening to Hodch, deigning not to retort.

(Understood.)

[Likely a cultural difference. No time to reconcile currently. Unclear why Belltower must not know, but noted.]

>Standing up and pinning his finished note sheet to the center of the map table where it would be easily noticed, he turns his head to look at Lonestar.
>His brow arches in slight surprise as the esoteric coil gun comes into enhanced view.

"Additional operational utility would be welcome. There are more unknowns than I am nominally used to working with, but the nature of this operation leaves no other options."

>Pareidolia terses his lips as he flourishes 3 wish discs.

[...More potential human corruption vectors. Can only hope he will choose weaponry that minimizes generalization.]

"Are you certain your condition is able to handle an operation like this?"
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.280677
281391
>>280009
>Pausing from her examination, the fuchsia Crystal mare's head shakes in a sincere 'no' before using her left forehoof to motion at the patchwork of scars dotting her chest and neck.
"That's what I believed for a long time, Bubba. Look at me now, I didn't get anywhere except miserable and it's taken the past two something years for me to remember who I am most times. Frustration is something to use when events out of your hooves go bad but rage is best applied when threatened or protecting others."
>Snorting softly at her own fairly hypocritical words, Naliyna eyes the sheet in half-amusemarent, half-sourness.
"Like I'm one to talk-"
>Both forelegs fold across her barrel as a red pen floats up to begin circling... almost everything.
"Still, Razorback is my home now. I won't leave even if every single Watch Guard showed up at the gates. If you'd rather be on a ship, make it a Razorback ship so you can take home with you wherever you go. Destroyer though.. that's not the batpony kind, is it? Really hope not, a fast ship packed with bombs coming at you sounds terrifying. Wait, you should ask Bren to make you a boat for the fountain, I'm sure Malyne would go batty for that!"
>Snickering at the basic yet honorable pun, she sets the pen down before glancing up to you, her lips pursing tightly.
"The first is way more likely because there's two weapons in the Enclave that were made to kill alicorns. Neither of them did.. at least I hope they didn't, but a million Bits for something that a minotaur would use as a knife and a human would have to ditch all their weapons for? I don't like the thought of buying it since Hodch and Amerose still aren't sure where all the Bits and gems came from. Might be able to trade for it since most stuff in the Enclave's pretty weird. What do you think?"
Cheto
!!uO1R771nQs
e13851e
?
No.280680
281608
>>280669
>Cheto couldn't help but blink softly, squinting his eyes slightly at the hurdles he'll have to face in the near future, from juggling indexes and alien political mechanisms
(Well, it is an alien world, after all. There had to be something that's hard to grasp in almost every facet.)
>Nonetheless, the human would soldier on with a calm smile on his face, simply content that there was information to take that'll surely help his future endevaors

>...said calm smile dissipates as he finishes his book, replaced with a relaxed jaw and a light trail of his tongue behind his teeth, finally having enough.
"Phew... I hope there's a vacant bed nearby..."
>Standing up and pushing against his back to pop any sort of bones from being practically still for large periods of time, José lazily yet carefully walks towards the shelf he got the tome from.
(Ni una pizca de vida acá dentro hasta agora. Re vacío el lugar.)
>Having accomplished said task and tidying anything else he may have tampered with, his feet start leading him outside the library for some much needed air and the ultimate quest of finding an above-average dormitory.
(Pfft. Like that'd happen without extremely lucky circumstances. Place's packed as it is.)
>Yawning softly, he gently drags his body towards the exit, passing by the Filly Room to potentially sense how things are going in there with vain hope the crystal mare has managed to reach her moment of respite.
(I swear, children are always bundles of unrestrained energy... most of the time.)
>Frowning lightly as he shakes his head, Gallo quickly drops the thought process, opting instead for some soothing echoes of nobility lines and their stories.
(I'm sure they'll warm up to me by displaying those virtues these ponies love so much. All I gotta do is do my duty.)

>Finally reaching the great outdoors, Gallo vaguely recalls the barracks way north of his current position, sighing softly.
(There has got to be a place closer than that to sleep those heavenly 8 hours of sleep...)
>Nonetheless, the diplomat trudges on towards said destination, moving as slow as molasses to minimize any accidents due to negligence or failing perception.
(Heh. I feel like one of those shambling fellows the youth seems to like. What were they again?)
>He couldn't help but to smile softly at the reminder of the people he's witnessed back in Earth, doing their usual recreational activities out of his apartment window, even stifling a chuckle after a solid 10 seconds.
(I am part of the youth. I'm barely halfway through my twenties. What are you talking about?)
>That elicited some more giggles out of the human, simply taking stock of the scenery around him, specially looking for bystanders currently not busy with tasks in his path to the barracks sector.
(I'm sure it's common knowledge if there's a spare bed for someone like me. Everyone probably has had to deal with this, but I'm probably getting some bedroll or those stiff metal bed frames, I bet. Maybe they'll give me a nice bed if I'm nice. Now that'd be both funny and helpful.)
[1d6 = 3]<Basic Perception
[1d6 = 4]
Lost in the Crag Moors: A Bigger Problem Than The Last One
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.280681
281230
>>280174
>Refusing to take your bait, Wild's search for additional materials results in the acquisition of three partially crushed red and green armors, the shapes distinctively earth pony.
>And this time without skeletons inhabiting them.
"My primary repair functions are less than fifteen percent of normal levels, secondary repair capabilities are damaged, tertiary repair functions have been destroyed, my radar system is barely stable, and my weapon is ineffective as I do not have further shells available. Should I create four additional magazines and my hull was one-hundred percent integrity I would be able to risk engaging four medium sized Constructs. Based on calculations of standard human and equine forces with information from my consolidated records, what you have described is a full expeditionary landing force. There is no winning that engagement."
>Finished 'repairing' her chest plating now, the remaining steel armor slats are given the same treatment of being melted down into a single large mass, which was causing a large amount of steam and bubbling outside the cockpit.

>Besides the simply screen interface and an 'EJECT' pad located to the right and above your crash couch, there were no visible controls aside from the imprints of what had been a rope ladder and deployment hatch.
>The first had been destroyed while the second was now thoroughly welded shut.
>Poorly welded, you notice, given the deep penetrations and imperfect beads across the interior.

"Understood, adjusting priorities to compensate. Attempting reinitialization of secondary repair systems-"
[1d6 = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair: Restart Protocols
>Holding the suits of armor up for inspection by her tendrils, the designs weren't Solar, Lunar, or even Stalliongradian, looking more like custom knight designs from the Late Dynasty.
>Carefully hefting them into the left shoulder cabin, Wild's volume level decreases to quiet speaking decibels as repairs to her left arm begin.
"I have calculated a ninety-nine-point-two percent chance that one hundred meters of depth will not cause damage, however there is a six-point-eight-five percent risk that two hundred meters may collapse from four to nineteen of my most damaged hull panels. Update: successfully analyzed two of the six previously known metals for usage. Primary metal of interest: common whitesteel, uncommon name oathscale. The composition and durability would suffice in replacing lost, damaged, destroyed motive systems. Secondary metal of interest: grenach'planyayne, commonly known as greensteel. I could potentially replace the exterior hull sections of my hands though I would fully exhaust the amount acquired so far to do so."
[1d6+4 = 6] <Arcanum Sensors Array: Research
[1d6+4 = 10] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #8
Clemency
!6qV.txiH5g
6b058ed
?
No.280867
281139
>>280340

[1d6+2 = 3] <Radar
[1d6+2 = 6]
Operation: The Basin Floods In Sacrifice, Part 1/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281136
281143 281147
>PENALTY: -1 to all rolls from Operational Fatigue

>>280252
>Recognizing the gateways being opened as modified Dusk Strider tunnels, there would've been precious little oxygen for the Dagor's engine to utilize, pathways were never safe from Void creatures entering, and modern psions were best suited to creating new ones.
>Most importantly was the distance aspect: at maximum speed the Dagor would arrive three to five times faster depending on how carefully the Watch Guard platoon could create a new branch from the crypt to Basin Village.
>And, of course, avoid, scare off, or take down any of the significant threats they would most certainly encounter.

>Stepping down on the pedal close to the floor, the Dagor's engine resists, coming in at 10MPH under maximum speed from the lower oxygen and higher water vapor content the Moors was notorious for.
>Without pushing it to maximum speed and potentially risking damage, you'd arrive at Basin Village in a little under seven and a half minutes barring complications.
>The premixed track list switches to something new, and quite relevant to you:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BmEGm-mraE

>Slouching sideways onto the rear bed's bench seat, Marshmallow Moon reaches a hoof up to toss her gaudy hat off sideways into a miniature ponial portal and replaces it with a fully enclosed Crystal Kingdom era marecenary knight's helmet.
>Spying Mercy's vague outline on the opposite seat, she was giving a clearly jealous set of motions at the Nightmare's daughter returning a puzzled expression.
>Flicking a wingblade towards the pocket dimarension, Mercy makes several common physical gestures asking that Marshmallow share something, whom returns a dumbfounded motion with both forehooves.
>Wings slumping in disbelief, the blind pegasi's head turns towards the Dagor's front, lips in a wavy S-shape of embarrassmarent.

>>280264
>Sensing the vehicle's weight shifting several times throughout the fairly comfortable ride, checking Boris on your right multiple times, the small Golem was still inactive.
>Though you couldn't see them, the rear passengers were likely not agreeing with each other.
>Breaking you from your own thoughts, Mercy's voice crosses through to Tallus' physical spectrums from behind, her tone measurably confused before the next song plays.
"On saddle, sheet of Lumin.. smells weird, hold still-"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjseUt1is-o

>Feeling a partially corporeal imprint detaching something where the Councilmare had previously felt you up, or perhaps down, a foreleg comes into partial view on your right.
>Presenting the moon-shaped piece stamped with archaic styled Common Equestrian text at your functioning eye's level, the text reads:
'Upon thy prized possessor given this token given of Fate's Embrace, one Favor of Night must they taketh of thine Born of Moon and Stars'
>Hoof stretching down with deliberate carefulness, Mercy slides the incredibly valuable material down the center of your bodysuit's neckline.
"Did not read it-"
>Murmuring into your left ear, the Spirit Walker submissively retracts her leg and presence entirely.

>Scarcely five seconds after Mercy sits back on the driver's side bench seat, the Dagor's frontal lights are entirely drowned out by two eye-searing streaks of white slamming down west and east of the rebuilt road.
>The unmistakable shredding of atmospheric turbulence bursts across the Basin Village's southern end and outwards in, a wall of swamp water and peat bog thrown outwards from the two massive impacts.

>The Dagor's occupants unfortunately witness its' high beams exposing dim outlines on the rear flanks on hundreds of dull gray ponies lined up in two tight, standard square formations, taking up the entire road less than 100M south of the Basin's first buildings.
>Either incapable of moving or lacking the basic logic to do so, the vehicle plows directly into and through the central four rows of unmoving Tainted, clipping several on either side as the Dagor begins swerving from dozens of half-solid impacts.
[1d6+130 = 134] <Kinetic Damage: Formations #2 and #3
[1d6+130 = 135]

>Jeff must roll Driving and score a minimum of 10 to prevent the Dagor from crashing or rolling over
>Sunny must roll Evasion and score a minimum of 8 to prevent being thrown out of the Dagor
>Mercy must roll Evasion and score a minimum of 11 to prevent being thrown out of the Dagor
>Marshmallow Moon must roll Evasion and score a minimum of 14 to prevent being thrown out of the Dagor

>Mercy:
[1d6+5 = 7] <E.Evasion
[1d6+5 = 11]
[1d6+5 = 7]
>Marshmallow Moon:
[1d6+8 = 14] <GM.Evasion
[1d6+8 = 9]
[1d6+8 = 14]
[1d6+8 = 12]
Operation: The Basin Floods In Sacrifice, Part 2/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281139
281152
>>280340
>>280867
>LEADERSHIP: +2 to all Assault, Evasion & Reaction Speed rolls
>PENALTY: -1 to all rolls from Operational Fatigue
[1d6 = 3] <Construct Technological Human-Symbiosis: Lure of the One-That-Is-Two

>Hurriedly reloading the SPAS, at your order the M-S.O.L.G.'s systems return to full active status, orienting away from the immense Construct vessel, aperture lens focusing onto Tallus towards the Central Moors at a painfully slow pace.
>Delivering another close-to-ground radar sweep, the internal display shows four Tainted formations roughly 150M directly south of Basin Village, each icon numbered as a half-brigade worth in addition to dozens of individual contacts streaming closer from the swamps outside.
>All of which you note with increasing confusion as being Elite Killmares of the Dark Horse.

>Tracking overhead into firing position despite great water resistance, the M-S.O.L.G.'s heuristic protocols select the exterior #1 and #4 formations away from the newly reconstructed road.
>Observing two firing sequences deployed in less than 1/10th a second apart, something goes wrong as the M-S.O.L.G.'s interface blanks out and a bright red 'MASS DRIVER POWER SYSTEMS OFFLINE, RECALIBRATING SPACE-TO-GROUND GUIDANCE LINK' scrolling across the top.

>Snapping 7 buckshot into the SPAS-12's cylindrical magazine and 1 slug into the chamber, upon sinking back into the comforting Void your vision clears substantially:
>Amongst the ranks of white robed Support Strikers, roughly a quarter of their previously black icons turn yellow, the formerly and definitively dead mares rising unsteadily onto their hooves before a solid line of bright white and purple armored saluting ponies.
>Ones which you dispassionately register as a mixture of Lunar and Solar Guardians.

>The first Hunter-Killer squadron had ripped their target apart leaving nothing more than a haze of mist, though several wings worth of black icons were left in their wake.
[1d6+40 = 44] <Honored Dispatch: 40
[1d6+20 = 22] <Pride of Legions Past

>Swiveling on hoof and wing, Squadron 1 splits apart to assault both the bloodhost's severely damaged Mass and the substantially more aggressive third, currently surrounded by three-quarters of Squadron 2.
>They were not yet utilizing desperation tactics, but still losing one of their own each second to flurries of improvised archaic blades, lances, and a massive head covered in spikes.
[1d6+5 = 9] <Hunter-Killer Squadron 1
[1d6+7 = 9] <Hunter-Killer Squadron 2
[1d6+6 = 8] <?????
>vs:
[1d6+4 = 10] <Mass #2
[1d6+4 = 8] <Mass #3

>Loudly kee'ing from within the diminished streams of blood cascading about the Basin's sacrificial altar, the body of an unarmored, unarmed, and certainly not Spectral, large batpony composed of red matter takes a ponderously heavy forwards.
[1d6 = 3] <Assault Tactics
[1d6 = 3] <Subversion Tactics: Spectral
[1d6 = 4] <Volatile Necessity
Jeff
!!pR5PIj/cAo
5cddc34
?
No.281143
281147 281152 281226
RAMMING_SPEED.jpg
WITNESS_ME.gif
>>281136
>>280264
>Hitting peak yet a still controllable speed, Jeff listens in on Clemarency but also at the odd choice of CCR.
>It's eerily appropriate.
>But at least he'll be able to get back to the Basin quick enough.
>As one of his close compatriots continued on, Jeff's grip on the steering wheel tightened.
>Tainted surrounding the Basin Village? He remembers taking them on before, almost like fighting zombies.
>They were also weak to Void damage, yes?
>Damn, he wished he still had the Void Diver pendant. She would have had a blast tearing them apart.
>His frown twists up into a wry almost-maniacal grin before he dons his deathmask and turns a bit to the right to address everyone behind him.
"Heads up everypony! The Basin's infested with Tainted! Hope you're all ready for a warm-up!"
>>280340
>Eyes back on the road, Jeff chimes back into the Moon Orb and Clem with a scary level of confidence.
*"Copy that Clem, and Negative! Reinforcements, inbound!"*

>Holding speed, the minutes pass blaze past as his GPS notifies them closing in onto the Basin Village.
>Coming up on the village line, his way ahead is tightly packed with pale gray pony figures.
>Shit, they're THIS congested?!
>White-knuckling the wheel, he keeps his foot down on the pedal.
>Slowing down will only... literally slow them down, and they'd have to fight through them.
>But if they can get inside and fight outwards...
"Get ready to brace!"
[1d6+4 = 8] <M.Leadership: Evasion
[1d6+4 = 6]
[1d6+4 = 5]
[1d6+4 = 6]
>He mentally apologizes to the Dagor as he goes full bore into the Tainted, instantly exhaling as he focuses on the impending impact and maneuvering as well as blaring the horn like an incoming freight train.
"RAMMING SPEEEEEEEEDYEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
[1d6+5 = 10] <E.Reaction Speed
[1d6+5 = 6]
[1d6+5 = 9]
[1d6+5 = 8] <M.Adrenaline Rush: Reaction Speed
[1d6+5 = 8]
[1d6+5 = 8]
[1d6+8 = 13] <M.Driving: High Manual Control
[1d6+8 = 12]
[1d6+8 = 11]
[1d6+8 = 10]
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.281147
281226 281234
1466408018338.png
>>281136
>>281143
>Sunny turned partially as Mercy slid the object down her suit to rest alongside the little gem.
"Wha-? Oh, thank you."
>The archaically structured common took a moment for her to comprehend. All she really gathered from the text was that she was owed a favour.
>The mare patted the object pressed against her neck with a hoof to ensure it was secure.
>Her line of thought was thoroughly and completely derailed with the ear splitting and teeth rattling shockwave of the uncomfortably close kinetic strike.
>The thunderclap that followed the impact had her ears ringing and her voice raised to even hear herself speak.
"KINETICS?! IN ATMOSPHERE?!"
>She'd barely finished yelling when Jeff brought her attention to exactly why there was steel rain.
>Tainted. And lots of them.
>What? What?!
>The jostling and swerving of the vehicle had her scrambling to keep her seat. There was no way she'd survive if she was thrown out of the vehicle into this.

[1d6+6 = 11] < E. Evasion
[1d6+6 = 12]
[1d6+6 = 12]

>Sunny yelled along with Jeff as the Dagor plowed a path through the Tainted ranks, though decidedly less excited about it all than Jeff seemed to be.
"THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SIMPLE SALVAGE RUN!"
Clemency
!6qV.txiH5g
6b058ed
?
No.281152
281153 281228 281229 281234
>>281139
>>281143

>Clemency squints at blinding white light of the kinetic rods streaking down to Tallus
>After the earthshaking impact, the bright red error ribbon brings his attention to bear for a moment before hearing Jeff respond
>The response shocked Clemency
"You're coming?!"
>Clemency looks around the battlefield and takes a deep breath
"Alright, I trust you. Please be careful, there is so many Tainted around. We do have Hunter Killer's and whatever is left of the Support Strikers around."
>Clemency then flicks his eye towards the last known position of the Tower General
"There is a VIP in the Basin. A Tower General that was leading a group of Support Strikers before they got overran. Last known position in Lann's shop. I'm stuck at the altar, trying to prevent Tainted from reaching it."
>Stuffing the orb back in its pocket, he shoulders the shotgun and takes aim at the giant mass of Tainted, seeing pockets of Strikers rising in his peripheral vision
>Clemency continues monitoring the radar while being stealthy, seeing the status of the battalions and the Tower General in the village proper
[1d6+2 = 3] <M. Ambush
[1d6+2 = 6]
[1d6+2 = 5]
[1s6+2]
[1d6+2 = 5]
[1d6+2 = 8]<Radar
[1d6+2 = 7]
>The lumbering giant batpony certainly does grab his attention, although he wonders about its attacks
Clemency
!6qV.txiH5g
6b058ed
?
No.281153
>>281152
[1d6+2 = 3] <M. Ambush
Southern Canterlot Outskirts: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281156
281324
>>280380
>Registering subtraffic between Dranaki and Adronal, the first falls silent as the second's datastream is transmitted in painful apology.
'Your reaction cuts far above what my original statement implied, Castella. I was not berating you, the individual, I was berating the Administratum Mechanicus as it has completely failed in properly teaching all Tech Acolytes and higher ranks the essential knowledge necessary for the Imperium's survival. As you were not formally introduced to all aspects of technology and biology those gaps have created schisms where a single variance between ideologies inherent in the Imperium have birthed divides which cannot be mended without excessive cost. Enginseer, I sincerely applaud your mother's additional efforts to prepare you, but the sheer ignorance, ineptitude, and reliance upon outdated protocols forces me to shun the Mechanicus superior for ultimately causing each failure that led you to this world.'
>Pinging an image of a giant equine robot stomping on a cluster of Magos with the word 'HERETEK' above each head, Tox-11's Binary tone was dour once more.
'smaller words next time admiral. dont take personally enginseer, witch meant to state: admech failed you, not other way around'

*"I trust you both, and don't worry, we will!"*
>Overhearing Raindrop giggling in the background after her short transmission, Chisan's thunderous facepalm was all you needed to know for the moment.

>Visibly trying to understand the implication, the girl gives a partially-understanding and still confused nod of acknowledgement.
"No know be-fore, po-nies not ex.. es.. say how name mean."
>Reaching up to adjust the the heavy submachine gun's sling onto her side tighter, she offers a faintly appreciative smile before straightening into shocked rigidity.
>Cheeks blushing a near incandescent red, her free hand lifts to shield her mouth while convulsively laughing between her words.
"No that word! It mean mare guard mare for tings wit'.. wit' mate! No use! No use please, I too young! No want die of laugh!"
>Crumpling forwards and covering her entire face both hands now, she remains in that position for nine seconds, gasping for air afterwards.
>Straightening up into half-seriousness, her face still red and lacking composure, the girl's eyes roll as she waves a hand dismissively.
"Pfah! Live no easy be-fore. We no need other pur.. por.. why care hard why here? Live good here, ye. Lot po-ny friends, po-ny food best. Learn when need or want, do what want or need do. No stu-pid law here, no lead-er make die for bad rea.. ray.. idea not mine, your, anyone. Sca-ry some-time but big fun, too."

>Turning towards the gateway with an inscrutable smile and kicking a leg back, she takes a deep inhale before nodding shortly.
"Ye."
>Striding forwards a half-meter off your right using the same pace, her attention drawn side to side in standard threat assessment protocols.
[1d6+1 = 6] <B.Perception
[1d6+1 = 2]

>Stepping through the looking-glass like gateway, little more than marginally decreased atmospheric pressure and gravity were felt, though the roughly doubled humidity was more akin to a Librarium.
>Scanning over the visible hundreds of safes, each was visibly larger than the Tracker twins' first calculations suggested:
>The largest were exactly 60% the size of the standard individual Imperial wargear locker, complexity ranging from one to multiple archaic key locks, external dials, tumblers, and a few that had no visible opening mechanisms.
>Several in view bore faintly active glyphs while the vast majority appeared dead.
>Looking upwards and around, the vault's ceiling was perhaps 25M above you, while wall-to-wall distance was closer to 120M.
>The rear wall stretched much further inwards than you could estimate, which the Admiral immediately pings a request.
'Enginseer, deploy the Chroniton again this time with close range protocols. I believe it is possible to determine our current location given all gravitational and atmospheric fluctuations inside here.'
Operation: The Basin Floods In Sacrifice, Part 1/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281226
281234 281258
>>281143
>LEADERSHIP: +2 to all Evasion rolls
>PENALTY: -1 to all rolls from Operational Fatigue

>Catching the Dagor's steering wheel a split-second after the vehicle starts drifting right through the ranks of vaporous ponies, bursts of red tinted mist disperse from the ranks that you'd unwittingly smashed into.
>Struggling to swerve left and break out of the slalom as the Dagor's heavily reinforced bumper and frame impacts the first of ten Tainted while smashing down the pedal at the same time, twenty, thirty, now forty of the Scarred rapidly impact across exterior armor panels, frame, and even internal components.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4GLsBW171s

>Barely carrying through their numbers on weight alone, the Dagor's tachometer redlines as the tortured diesel engine pitches into a scream at maximum torque from a combination of direct impacts on the front end and rapidly solidifying Spectral masses now damaging the entire front.
>Losing all frontal bumper lights first from the first set of impacts, the next dozen or so wildly buck the Dagor up into the air, several Tainted smashed flat while it lands atop the third rank..
>Even through heavy gloves you could feel the front bumper tearing off the frame, the unmistakable howling shrieks of Tainted realizing a new intruder in their midst causing the next set the Dagor slam into turning their heads, though nowhere near in time.
>Hearing tortured shrieks of steel armor panels buckling and the modified forward frame twisting against unmoving forms as the Dagor continues to plow through them, the closest Scarred in the Dagor's path strike at the vehicle itself with a host of wildly serrated lances, no longer mere vapor held together by mere ka:
>Witnessing a brief, startling sight of Lunar Guardian and Solar Guardian armors arrayed together in the rearview mirror, every single one was now fully solidified in realspace.
[1d6+40 = 44] <Formation #2 Counter
[1d6+40 = 43] <Formation #3 Counter

>>281147
>Twisting away from Mercy whom immediately slides ass-first towards the Dagor's rear, planting your forehooves onto the vehicle's dash accompanied by both rear legs and every muscle along your spine brace against the immediate devastating impacts to occur.
>Shock radiates from your forehooves crushing through the brittle material into solid metal plates beyond, though keeping you from whiplashing as the first few ranks of Tainted are plowed into.
>Hooves pushed further into the destroyed section, the Dagor's bounce up and down throws your head right to catch several Tainted delivering offensive lances into the vehicle's metallic side panels.
>Unable to do more than hold on through the wild heaving, Jeff regains control of the slaloming motion before breaking free of the formations.

>Reacting on instinct, Mercy loses stealth entirely before smacking chest first into the tailgate, both wings slashing forwards and down into everything she could touch while a blast of pink-white hot energy accompanies the motions.
[1d6+7 = 12] <E.Spectral Assault
[1d6+7 = 12]
[1d6+7 = 9]
[1d6+10 = 16] <Expulse

>Catching her own balance before toppling over the Dagor's side, Marshmallow Moon leaps up and out of the bed, wings fully extending while streaking forwards and delivering a hair-and-mane-bristling, hate-filled neigh of challenge.
[1d6+4 = 5] <M.Taunt
[1d6+4 = 5]
[1d6+4 = 10]
[1d6+4 = 6]
[1d6+11 = 17] <GM.Flight
[1d6+11 = 17]
[1d6+11 = 17]
[1d6+11 = 13]

>Jeff retains control the assault vehicle's drift through the entirety of both central formations, the Dagor's engine compartment now a thoroughly destroyed mess of damaged metal components.
>Both front wheels emit a metal-on-stone screech as thje vehicle slides passenger side 60M north of the Basin's southern buildings, a quarter of the distance towards the fountain, Clemency now visible and taking cover on the southern end of it.
>Giving one last sputter of defiance, the engine dies in a backblast of smoke before small detonations of overheated fuel and piston rods shred through what was left of the crumpled hood.

>The kinetic impacts far behind had picked up furious, frothing wave swells of swamp water into small tsunami conditions.
[1d30+50 = 75] <Waveform Damage Variance
[1d6 = 3] <Waveform Reduction
Operation: The Basin Floods In Sacrifice, Part 2/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281228
281229 281234 281247 281258
>>281152
>LEADERSHIP: +2 to all Assault, Evasion & Reaction Speed rolls
>PENALTY: -1 to all rolls from Operational Fatigue
>5 Ambush tokens.

>Unable to locate the silverine-clad earth mare at Lann's shop, she was holed up in the back room the VIP icon showed her position.
>Sighting the two masses finally ripped apart from unyielding, silent onslaughts, the Hunter-Killers immediately reform into two considerably smaller squadrons.
>Taking zero stock of their losses, the first was down 35% of total numbers, the second 50%.
>Visible once again the sub-alicorn sized bloodhost was close to falling apart, hundreds of tiny red streams ejecting from the mostly torn apart body.
>If it was even physical to begin with.

>Both masses coalesce into two divided platoons of Solar and Lunar Guardians, the newly freed individuals staring around dumbly.
>Snapping quick hoof and wing salutes, a faded, yet indescribably merry cheer rolls out from them before dispersing into hanging clouds of red-tinged mist.
[1d6+40 = 44] <Honored Dispatch
[1d6+40 = 44] <Honored Dispatch
[1d6+40 = 43] <Pride of Legions Past

>Watching another three full squads of black Support Striker icons turn yellow, the recently dead earth mares drunkely rise onto their hooves, then begin staggering north, responding to orders beyond their graves and what little wits they still had commarend of.
>Noting all four complete squadrons of reinforcing Hunter-Killers taking up an overwatching hover position above the Basin's northernmost buildings, another six were forming around the routed Strikers.
>Far north and barely on the radar's edge was the icon of a lone Crystal Empire Conclave Killknight, also tagged as a VIP.

>To the south hundreds of Tainted icons blink out, the total tally ending at 381 listed as deceased.. which only left 619 remaining.
[1d6+381 = 384] <Honored Dispatch
[1d6+190 = 195] <Pride of Legions Past

>The remainder were slightly to partially 'damaged', although dozens of large Mass icons spring up amongst those that had survived the impacts while the total numbers dwindle.
[1d50 = 25] <Mass Condensed Tactics
[1d6+5 = 8] <Formation #1
[1d6+5 = 8] <Formation #4

>Trailing around the edges of the two rapidly condensing Tainted formations, eleven wings of five Elite Cultists each stream down, apparently landing the Basin's southern villages.
>Beyond them, the sound of ocean waves begins crashing into trees.. which was definitely not a good sign.
[1d6 = 4] <Impact Time
Operation: The Basin Floods In Sacrifice Part 3/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281229
281234 281247 281258
>>281152
>>281228
>Nearly the size of an antennae hauling vehicle, not including wings that would make medium leisure jets jealous, the newly summoned bloodhost was less a physical marenifestation and more the concept of a batpony.
>Taking another step south, directly over you and the fountain entirely, rolling masses of thoughtforms stream across false skin in patterns that seemed to be tactically defensive.
>As the right forehoof lands it shatters apart, dislodging the slab underneath, the conceptual being flows apart into hundreds, then thousands of small incandescent red bats clustering around a single individual perhaps a foot tall.
>Ones with long, protruding fangs and emotionless, whorling eyes.

>Far to the south:
"Damn thy manes, I was told there were Constructed Twos not Scar Remnants to hamper us!"
"Cease thy neighing and free us from thine accursed anchor!"
"Hay, I get to do something important!"
"Can we all make a line and force them to take us on one by one?!"
"My dress is going to be ruined from this!"
"THY FLANKS SHALT BE DESTROYED FOR ACTS UNBECOMING A LUNARITE!"
[1d6 = 6] <M.Casting: Void Anchor Detachmarent
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6 = 4]
Natilda
!S8UWokkL4Q
c058d89
?
No.281230
281761
>>280681
>I make it a top priority to never get close to the eject, especially considering the current environment.
>I frown a bit, but decide to not bring it up until a later time, there were more pressing concerns to worry about.
>Namely this 'expeditionary landing force' currently above us.

"Hopefully one hundred to one fifty should be more than enough to continue evading them, then."
>"Though less than 7% at 200 wasn't too terrible of a percentage..."
"I have no clue on what either of these look like, you know."
>I pause for a moment.
"To be fair I barely know what an iron vein would look like either. My father is a carpenter, and none of my brothers became miners."
Jeff
!!pR5PIj/cAo
5cddc34
?
No.281234
281247 281258 281563
M2_HMG.jpg
>>281226
>>281228
>>281229
"Shiiiiiiit!"
>Shit!
>SHIT!
>Damn, that one got some air!
>Jeff relentlessly let's the Tainted have the front bumper of the Dagor, though not without it yielding to its own impacts.
>With each one he hit, he can feel the truck getting chipped away little by little. Fender, headlights, framing.
>And with each row he plows through, they start reacting a little more and begin counterattacking.
>Not like it mattered. The Dagor can be repaired.
>Although the bucking upward was a little jarring, he regains control and breaks through their ranks.
>But the damage had been dealt. Front was totaled, the bumper was lost at some point. Front tires had disintegrated, and the sides were shredded.
>As the Dagor skids to a halt well away from the now pissed off Tainted ranks, he makes an obvious assessment that the damage was fubar.
>Shielding his face as the engine literally blows up through the hood was an attest to that.
"Damn... sorry girl."
>Recovering his bearings, he checks over any injuries on himself as he pats the Dagors dashboard apologetically.
"Anypony broken?"
>Sunny braced herself in shotgun well enough, but he swear he heard Mercy clonk around in the back. Marshmallow Moon was already out and squaring up with the Tainted.
>He notices the M2 hadn't looked like it took any damage...
>Jeff shakily lifts himself from the driver's seat, and looks around above the Dagor's rollbar of a roof.
>From the Basin's fountain, he can see Clem positioned over there; that blood ritual he mentioned being underway.
>Lann's shop wasn't too far off. He's yet to see the Lunarites disengage from the Void Anchor.

>>281152
>Switching to his radio, Jeff calls out Clemency over it giving him a high-sweeping wave for his crashed position.
*"The calvary has arrived, Clem! Well, Dagor's fucked! Where do you need us, man? I can send Mercy and Sunny the General's way."*
>Looking behind and past the Tainted, only now does Jeff notice a wall of water coming at them.
>Well more like a tall wake, but it's gonna be wet VERY soon.
>That's what he thought he heard before. A pair of impacts as he was driving. Big ones. Big enough to create a swamp wave coming at them?
>Did Clem fire his satellite again?
>He wonders if that pissed off the Constructs more.
"Sweet."
>What wasn't sweet was that the anchor actually DID detach, leaving the Lunarites stranded on the other side of the Tainted's forces.
>He swore he could hear them complain from here.
*"Clem, I lost my vampires on the other side of the Tainted. They're still concentrated South of us. I'll hold here and thin out the masses, until they regroup with me.*

>>281147
>Weaving around seats, frame, and pony bodies Jeff pokes himself up into the turret ring and swings the M2 South at the Tainted. He lifts the cover to check the receiver and bolt group for damage, and makes sure the first round of the belt was situated properly before closing it back down.
"Mercy, Sunny. Pony up! I have a task for you. To the North North-West is a Tower Guard General and forces that can help us out. They're held up in Lann's shop, her sign's a give-away. Take Boris and the medkit in the bed, and assess their situation. I'll hold this position and thin out the Tainted so the Lunarites can catch up. Get going, there's a flood coming at us!"
[1d6+4 = 7] <M.Leadership: Sprint
[1d6+4 = 5]
[1d6+4 = 9]
[1d6+4 = 7]
>If anything he wanted the trio to start getting as far away from the Tainted as possible. The Basin itself looked free of them, from where he could see. Worst case, that water's going to wash them all right on top of their current position.
>At least he can hold them off at range, for some time.
>Pulling back the charging handle twice, he checks the area way behind the Tainted and to where the Lunarites currently were and aims well to the left of them to reduce any stray rounds possibly hitting them.
>Hopefully they pick up on what he's doing, so they have an easier time pushing through.
[1d6+4 = 5]<E.Scouting + Lunar Faction Bonus
[1d6+4 = 7]
[1d6+4 = 10]

[1d6+6 = 9] <U.Heavy Weapons
[1d6+6 = 7] <M.Ranger
[1d6+6 = 8]
[1d6+6 = 9]
[1d6+6 = 12] <M2 Browning HMG
[1d6+6 = 8]
Clemency
!6qV.txiH5g
6b058ed
?
No.281247
281258 281563
>>281228
>>281229
>>281234

>Hearing the squealing then explosion, Clemency turned to Jeff and the now totaled Dagor
>Not that it mattered since a quick getaway is in the middle of town
>What does matter is the reinforcement he brings with that HMG
*"I appreciate the help. The more the merrier, especially with the 600 and so Tainted south of here..."*
>Looking at the forces of the Hunter-Killers and the Strikers, Clemency determines that the altar is secure enough and that the tide of Tainted can be held away
>He starts to make a sprint to Jeff's position
[1d6+3 = 8] <M. Sprint
[1d6+3 = 9]
[1d6+3 = 9]
[1d6+3 = 8]
[1d6+3 = 9]
>On the way, when he spots Mercy and Sunny, he quickly says
"Check on the General and get her to rally her Strikers!"
>Getting to Jeff, he nods and shoulders his SPAS down where he's aiming
>Apparently, he had vampires over there and Clem doesn't know what they look like or their exact location
"Ok, let's not let them get through. That blood pony should be coming here from what I saw."
>Taking cover behind the visibly busted engine compartment of the Dagor, he barricade positions himself on the hood and watches south bound for those ponies
>To Clemency, any Tainted that turns to fight them are going to get shot
>>Ambush Overwatch Active<<
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.281258
281592
1226647.png
>>281226
>>281228
>>281229
>Sunny sat still for a split second as the Dagor came to a stop before shaking her head and rolling out of the metal contraption, wings partially unfurled.
>Not even a pleasant drive through the Moors went as planned with Razorback at the wheel it seemed.
>She quickly assessed what remained of the Tainted's ranks, they weren't too close yet, but that would change fast enough.

[1d6+2 = 5] < B. Perception
[1d6+2 = 4]

>>281234
>Acknowledging Jeff, Sunny gave herself a little shake and hoof dance to check for any injuries, and finding herself none the worse for wear, spoke up.
"Green, sir!"
>She was already moving at Jeff's next order, unbuckling Boris from the backseat and hauling him across her saddle, hopefully he was weighty enough to stay put at full gallop.
"Understood! Mercy, take the medkit, I've got Boris!"
>Pausing to ensure Mercy was close, the mare took off at a gallop north north-west for Lann's shop, just in time to hear the punctuation of the Dagor's gun start up.

[1d6+4 = 7] < E. Sprint
[1d6+4 = 6]
[1d6+4 = 8]

>>281247
>There was barely enough time to respond to the other human's shouted words at them as they sped by each other.
"Aye! Hold the fort!"
>All the while, the golem on her back jostled around with every hoofbeat.
>Don't fall off. Don't fall off. Don't fall off!
Mallia Castella
!mAMS0VcYXk
858c55d
?
No.281324
282052
>>281156
>Dranaki's explanation did not fully lift Mallia's spirits, as she now narrowed her eyes at the visor of her helmet for a moment as a thought crosses her mind.
(Why maintain a system that doesn't work?)
>But the question is fleeting. She instantly knew that despite it being the "right" question it was also the "wrong" question.
>She bounces the question in her head, but the more nanocyles she spends dwelling on it, the more she just felt bitterly sad. Even the ASCII image packets don't cheer her up that much. But also don't have the adverse effect either.
(I understand what you mean. Don't worry, I am not offended...)
>Despite the feeling of warmth her thoughts carried, she couldn't help but still carry a lingering feeling of frustation, as she spent several nanocyles thinking about it against better judgement.
(Let's... Move on.)

>Smiling a little from Raindrop's giggling, she rather quickly bounces back from her sour mood at hearing the pegasus' laughter. Something about it made her chuckle too. Or perhaps it was Chisan's LOUD facepalming that got her.
"Pffheh!"
>Mallia then paused, half-turning her head to listen to, keeping the shield low across her middle and her laspistol pointed downward as the Enginseer gazed to Nasiksta. Watching her with a slight, comical tilt of her head as the girl tenses up... Then her cheeks blush... And then she starts laughing.
>Interesting reaction there, huh.

"W-what?"
>That's all Mallia could muster, as she also starts to get infected by Nasiksta's laughter, starting to chuckle as she talked.
>She decided to wait there for the mood to stabilize a bit more. She didn't want to go inside the vault until they were both fully ready!
"W-whhAHaat do you m-mean?? That's--that's what she told me to tell you."
>Mallia's head visibly recoils as she stared at the girl, her mechadendrite moving from her back and rubbing it's clamp on the back of her neck, like she would with her hand. The tendril-like length brushing slightly against her helmet.
"HEH, EHh--I--I feel like I just got pranked."
>Slowly, her mirthful snickering dies down along with Nasiksta's. Straightening up and moving her mechadendrite behind her back as she listened to that statement.

"It's a personal reason. I simply MUST know why. Why to me specifically, and not any of my comrades, or the literal billions of others that may deserve it more than me. I'm not sure if you understand."
>Mallia simply replied. Her voice deadpan as it was grimly serious, and dead honest.
(It's just too good to be true... Too good to have no superior purpose other than to simply enjoy a second chance at life. Something is at stake. But what? And what happens once we fulfill that purpose?)
(Am I thinking about it too much? Could it really be that simple?)
(I don't understand... By the motive force why me? Why not the others? Was I just lucky enough to be spared from the Warp?)

>Once Nasiksta gave her that 'Ye.', Mallia moved on. Her thoughts invisible on her otherwise confident and striding gait and bubbly movements.
>After shrugging off but acknowledging the decrease in pressure and gravity with a glance towards the gateway, then back to the vault itself, she finishes up her visual scan of the entire vault's interior by stopping roughly after having moved 25 or so meters inside.
"Woah..."
>Mallia remarked as she took note of the 25 meter tall ceiling.
>Then dipped her gaze downward to the safes themselves. Her head visibly tilting as she notes the size discrepancy between the scans and the real thing. Eyes bouncing over the active glyphs, and the fact only some of them seemed to have them still active.
"Strange... Some of the runes are still active on a few of those safes, but on the majority of others they are spent. Lasting craftsmanship. Or continued maintenance? Hmmmmmmmmm..."

>Mallia absent-mindedly flexed her shield a few times, testing how much gravity did change by checking how heavy her shield was now.

>Quickly acknowledging the Admiral's request, Mallia slightly lifts the shield-arm bearing the auspex to give it a glance as she changes the scan's settings for short range protocols, notably without reciting any Litanies of Activation, before engaging the Chroniton Wave Reader.
(Sure thing Admiral Auspex. I want to bet that this is some sort of pocket dimension.)
<Auspex Scan: Chroniton Wave Reader
[1d6+2 = 8]

"Some interdimensional bank this is!"
>Mallia piped up with an excitedly noisy voice, letting it echo across the room to scan the acoustics for no reason other than because she could.
>And to see if anyone cared that they were in there.

>Resuming to stride forward--hopefully with Nasiksta in tow giving protection and with her shield rising again, Mallia begins to make a long walk to the other side of the room to start approaching the safes that were more at her level.
"Let's see here... Let's go for one of the silver ones with a gold trim."

>She starts to take note of which safes had a glyph for future reference, as she moved closer and bee-lined towards one of the safes that were made of silver and had a golden trim that did not have an active glyph on it, if any, aiming to inspect them more closely.

"I will stay away from the safes with runes still glowing on them, FOR NOW."

<B. Perception
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 2]
<E. Engineering
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6 = 5]

>She also quickly taps the side of her helmet as she walked, tuning into the vox channel again to check if perhaps there was any interference.
>Perhaps the signal was being stopped by the gateway?
>Or maybe they were too busy eating to respond immediately.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
c058d89
?
No.281391
282083
>>280677
>Bubba took a moment to reflect on how exactly he got into this situation.
>Giving something close to life advice to a bunch of colorful horses.
>If he was back home he'd be laughed at and fun would be poked at him over this.
"Razorback isn't that bad, to be honest. It feels like a second home to me. And to us humans, a destroyer is usually a lightly armed, somewhere between 105MM to 128MM guns, hardly armored, fast ship designed for escorting and hunting underwater boats. I guess they carry bombs, but they're for underwater explosions."
>He hummed at the idea.
"Hell, given the materials I could probably make up a boat for it as well. I'll ask 'er about it next time I swing by."
"I'd suggest haggling a bit for it first, but if it was the latter, it would probably be a good idea to keep it locked up somewhere secure. You never know when you'd need something like that."
>He shrugged.
"Up to you though, if we can trade for it, I'd do it."
Operation: The Basin Floods In Sacrifice, Part 1/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281563
281663 281798 281910
>>281234
>LEADERSHIP: +2 to all Evasion & Sprint rolls
>PENALTY: -1 to all rolls from Operational Fatigue

>While Sunny collects the Golem on the front seat, Mercy stops short from jumping over the tailgate, both sets of wingblades ablaze in hostile patterns.
>Her head turns about to give a disbelieving expression tinged with anger, then gives a quick nod.
>Smacking the driver's side seat up, she hurriedly bites onto the medical bag and tosses it across her saddle, leaping over it to take wing north.
[1d6+3 = 8] <E.Flight
[1d6+3 = 5]
[1d6+3 = 5]

>Directly above, Marshmallow Moon's neigh is cut off by a startled hacking sound, the regal mare crumpling in midflight, legs thrown about in frightened directions and dropping like a rock.
>Recovering, barely, to land heavily on the Dagor's driver side, her head tosses side to side before spitting out a large black insect which immediately flits off.
>Staring at the bug with a brief touch of wonder, both wings fold on her sides tightly before high skipping around the wrecked vehicle at high speed, directly towards the line of now fully formed giant Tainted.
[1d6+9 = 13] <GM.Sprint..?
[1d6+9 = 10]
[1d6+9 = 10]
[1d6+9 = 13]

>Finding the unmodified M2 in perfect shape, swinging it right, and well over the Night Princess' daughter, you immediately spot two full squads of Deep Moors Hunter-Killers mixed in with a small number of robed batponies.
>Ones with high varying colors at that, which could only make them being Cultists of the Dark Horse.
>All of them were preparing synchronized ambushes from each southern building, and thoroughly unconcerned by the quickly slackening swamp water waves coming for the Basin Village.
[1d6+11 = 17] <Mixed Team #1 Ambush
[1d6+10 = 11] <Mixed Team #2 Ambush
[1d6+9 = 10] <Mixed Team #3 Ambush
[1d6+8 = 12] <Mixed Team #4 Ambush
[1d6+10 = 14] <Mixed Team #5 Ambush
[1d6+7 = 13] <Mixed Team #6 Ambush

>Sighting six brand new Tainted Masses less than 100M south of the Basin's newly repaired roadway, as one they break into a storming four-point gallop, but are immediately followed by a tight Diamond Lance formation closing ranks into at least two dozen total.
[1d6+6 = 11] <Tainted Mass Charge
[1d6+6 = 10]
[1d6+6 = 7]
[1d6+6 = 7]

>Clenching the M2's handles tightly and shoving armored thumbs onto the butterfly trigger brings a roaring chatter of forearm impacts with the primary burst aimed towards the Mass left of the formation's leader.
>Losing control of the heavy weapon briefly before stabilizing it upwards, 660 grain impacts begin tearing into and through definitively solid Tainted legs.
>Tracking upwards enough to focus on the left side Mass' center, the rank immediately behind it taking somewhat slowed slugs while the third rank was absorbing tracers and armor penetrating bullets alike.. and were certainly NOT disintegrating from heavy fire.

>>281247
>LEADERSHIP: +2 to all Assault, Evasion, Reaction Speed & Sprint rolls
>PENALTY: -1 to all rolls from Operational Fatigue
>5 Ambush tokens.

Last Stand Protocol: Disengaged

>Aided by the Float enchantmarent, stretching out into a full towards the Dagor run elicits a feeling of whole body wellness save for the mild fatigue and sense of deep soul ache plaguing you.
>Nearly body checking the vehicle's front end,, you instead readily slide into position, shotgun aimed over the mildly burning engine, and feel a pang of loss over the Dagor's damage.
>Likewise losing the desperate, poorly understood adrenaline rush, watching the Tainted form into a near-perfect Diamond Lance formation rushing directly towards the Dagor you immediately recognize that this small squad was massively undergunned to engage this number even as Jeff looses the well maintained M2's fury from left and above.

>Estimating the formation's distance as out of range, upon calculating all eight shells in the SPAS-12 and realizing that you either had to quick reload or switch to the 1911, halfway into the Tainted charge your synapses reach peak efficiency at the optimal firing vectors-
Operation: The Basin Floods In Sacrifice, Part 2/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281592
281663 281798 281910
>>281258
>LEADERSHIP: +2 to all Evasion & Sprint rolls
>PENALTY: -1 to all rolls from Operational Fatigue

>Spotting the number of Tainted decreased to about two dozen individuals, the infamous 'Mass' type were now charging straight north at the Basin, two much smaller formations of less than platoon strength had formed behind them, starting to coalesce into markedly different shapes.
[1d6 = 5] <Consolidated Tainted Formation #1: Tactic Shift
[1d6 = 2] <Consolidated Tainted Formation #2: Tactic Shift

>Securing the small heavy Golem on your saddle, the bizarre and unbalanced weight was only a minor nuisance.
>Reaching an immediate three-point run, the booming weapon from behind mixes with rapidly sloshing wave actions, drastically slowed from centuries of rubble tossed in by batpony carelessness.
>Glimpsing the usually abandoned and empty basin in the center, it was guarded by a trio of heavy set batponies in older Nightfang armor, eerily calm.
>Behind the three a whirling sphere of suspiciously viscous red fluid partially hid a blood-covered batmare, holding aloft two long daggers, the first a shining pinksteel, the other a dull metallic green.
>Three pairs of two blood drenched altars facing each other behind her were surrounded by clusters of batponies, fangs and wingclaws unmoving, their colors oddly dimmed.

>Passing by that scene the Basin's northwest side in front of the building that was definitely Lann's, an even more confusing situation appears:
>A lone batpony that probably rivaled the Empress in size with wingclaw trios that appeared more like minotaur curved blades, stood surrounded by two partially intact squadrons of Hunter-Killers.
>Composed of metallic iridescent red that was ejecting tiny streams of red vapor from hundreds of rippled creases across the body, the bloodhost points south to which the Discordites take wing, rapidly taking an offensive reverse-moon formation.
[1d6+7 = 13] <Hunter-Killer Squadron 1
[1d6+7 = 9] <Hunter-Killer Squadron 2
>Gazing upon either you or Mercy with a troubled expression, the bloodhost's wings sweep forwards and down once, propelling her upwards with a backblast that dissipates most of the Moors' mist behind her-
[1d6+8 = 13] <GM.Flight
[1d6+8 = 11]
[1d6+8 = 10]
[1d6+8 = 9]

>Exposing scores of white robed Support Strikers lying in unnatural death positions, scattered across what was not long ago a triple ranked Watch Guard half-circle defensive formation.
>Though you do spot three squads slowly retreating north, the psions' death toll was nearly an entire compony's worth.

>Hearing overburdened pegasi wings flapping behind you as Mercy struggles to catch up, she was entirely silent at the carnage.
[1d6 = 1] <Horror
[1d6 = 5] <Insanity Strength
[1d20 = 6] <Insanity Effect
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop, Underground Tunnel
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281593
281596
>>280674
>Wings lifting in an approximation of a ruffled shrug, the Nightfang's tone was flatly unamused.
"There aren't marely batponies here, I've met them all. Haven't seen or heard of a human turn into a batpony either. I'd rather do my job, which is fun, than pass unsubstantiated rumors."
>Tapping hooves and wingclaws on every surface, pausing to sniff every other step, the batmare retains her suspicious, slow pace.
"Nothing so far. Dunno what that last word you said is but it sounds like one of those elemarental bolt spewing weapons I see some pegasi use now and then. I've come across lots of nasty swarming creatures, last was in the compony that held Memorial Village after Razorback secured it. Spent the next four, maybe five nights wiping out local scavengers. Very unfun. New Everfree critters are bigger and show up in smaller numbers from what little I know, but did overhear one human talking about a huge bunch of Moors minibears that got too close. They should be at least two hundred miles south, not roaming around the giant growth regions."

>Watching the Lunar mare's methodical, and at least somewhat professional attempts at locating something out of place, your own efforts find nothing.
>Not a single crack, chip, or off colored patch was visible, and from the mare's constant scraping on stone you couldn't hear voids in the material.
>Which gave a chance that the entire stairwell had been created from a single large boulder or perfectly melded together.

"Clear. I don't think there's much to worry about."
>Reaching the bottom step after the batmare, it had opened into a matte white tunnel that two unicorns might be able to walk side-by-side through.
>Down approximately 40M was an intersection, with two more deviating at 100M and a third around 150M.
>Sliding forwards on her hoofboots, the sound quickly traveling while she takes several deep sniffs, then nods in a succinct marener.
"Can smell the yellow unicorn, pink unicorn, Hodch, other yellow unicorn, and unicorn with the floppy hat. First two are three to five minutes prior, third is an hour or so, fourth is very faint, fifth is around the same time as Hodch."
>Helmet tilting sideways, the Lunar Guard mutters in annoyance.
"This tunnel system must see a lot of use, way more scents than I can keep up with. I'll track the yellow and pink unicorn but warn me if you're going to use something loud."
>Starting off at a slightly less than power walking pace, the batmare's wings stretch out, tapping on wall sections every third step.
[1d6+4 = 6] <E.Perception
[1d6+4 = 6]
[1d6+4 = 9]
[1d6+2 = 8] <E.Traps
[1d6+2 = 5]
[1d6+2 = 7]
Ivan the Stalker
!EnJhCCu3Ns
c058d89
?
No.281596
349223
>>281593
"Yeah, I don't like rumors either, they tend to get people killed."
>He shrugged a bit as he follows behind her, keeping the same slow, cautious pace.
"Well, you're not exactly far off. Shotguns usually fire several small steel balls out at a target, though there's shells for it that are one solid slug."
>He chewed on his lip as he thought.
"Kinda like... grape shot for ship cannons, I think?"
>Navies were kind of hard to come by in the Zone.

>He glances down at the batpony, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
"You can smell scents that far back?"
>He could compare that to a tracking hound.
>He shrugged and patted his sidearm.
"I shouldn't have a reason to use any of my weapons, if I need to I'll use my knife for ropes or something."
>He frowned and glanced down at the hanging gear on his body.
"Anything else just kinda... beeps idly."
>He follows close behind, his boots treading lightly.
[1d6 = 3] <E. Perception
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6 = 5] <U. Traps
Razorback Fortress: Command Center
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281601
282377
>>280675
'Understood sir, adjusting protocols to compensate for this unique situation.'
>Shoulders lifting in an accepting shrug, the A.I. render slumps forwards to sigh in a disgusted tone.
'The Inquisitor. Her subconscious is partially awake with approximately forty percent coherency.. albeit thoroughly idiotic. She continues blathering on about something called an Abominable Intelligence, why they should not exist, demarending if I am one, and other insane drivel that I am starting to experience a great deal of resentmarent at. I have been blocking each frequency she has utilized to directly contact me, which now makes two-hundred fifty-two. Correction: two-hundred fifty-seven and rising steadily.'

"Don't worry none, Ah'm not lookin' ta pull teeth jes' yet but Ah gotta few questions y'better answer later.. an' Ah'll try to keep mah accent down."
>Lonestar's hat tilts as he gives a distinctly critical military staredown, sliding the discs back into his coat with deliberate slowness.
"Ah'm not gonna take yer words personal like so's Ah'll be nice: Ah ain't gone soft or been sittin' on mah ass doin' fuck all since arrivin' in Canterlot day one this whole mess started up. Got enough shuteye to go fer another day. Anythin' past that? Few o'Tipper's special mixes."
>Firmly patting the weapon once, he turns to glance behind him for a moment, muttering in a low, harshly reprimanding tone which the A.I. picks up easily.
"An' Em needs ta either keep her mouth shut or stop worryin' s'damned much-"
>Straightening up, the Texan analogue half-saunters towards the door, pausing in front of it.
"Now 'scuse me fer a bit, gonna pick up mah gear an' warn th'secretary mare Ah won't be 'round. Also mah Frequency's EnCru-six-point-eight-one-gamma, y'won't find it on 'ficial channels."
>Tossing a short, two-fingered salute before stepping out, the door closes after him creakily.

>Tapping forehooves together several times, 'Spiral' cocks his head at a small data feed accompanied by several tiny windows.
'Mood analysis: moderately proud, highly clinical, extremely critical, highly efficient, high sociability with those of a military background. He was thoroughly insulted by your question, made no attempt to hide it but did tone down his combativeness. Definite military officer background. Most likely possibilities: aerial, spaceborne, naval, or a combination of two. Your records show he was present with the first one hundred humans to arrive on Tallus and is in a position of data control. His experience, knowledge, and.. presumedly high combat capabilities are invaluable. Recommarend designating him as a V.I.P. sir, this cou-'

>Before you could respond, a small dinner plate sized gateway opens to deposit a silver disc, hanging in front of you within arm's distance.

'...as I was stating, this is an excellent chance to ascertain Razorback's political, economic, and technological situations.'

>Hodch:
[1d6+3 = 8] <E.Negotiation
[1d6+3 = 5]
[1d6+3 = 5]
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281608
281631
>>280680
>Finding nothing to straighten or put away, the Library's lighting system dims to nothing though the large number of giant bay windows were enough to see by.

>Despite the door's good sound proofing you could hear fillies giggling louder than the Crystal mare's mock aggressive taunting, which sounded like she was making one last effort to have fun before turning in.

>Exiting through one of the front doors, activity had greatly slowed while you'd been burning into the book:
>Fifteen or so humans, each accompaneighed by two to four armored ponies were visible in the pre-dawn light, performing yet another slow, spread out search across the central courtyard's west and east sides.
>Sighting the barracks roughly eighty percent of a kilometer north, it was fairly obvious that this fortress was nowhere near completed.
>And that it needed a transportation system of some kind.

>Walking the well trod path leading to the Pagoda, far ahead and west you spy a large, minorly familiar square tent with four bright red glowing lanterns slightly north of the giant entrance/exit gates noted earlier.
>Changing course towards the tent, upon reaching it two minutes later, along with a number of slowly developing aches, it was distinctly Asian styled:
>Dark green and red stripes accented by flower prints and delicate renderings of unusual creatures.. ones that might not be entirely mythical on this world.
>Hundreds of small, brightly colored cloth strips around the top hang silently, the door a complex five-piece affair that looked like embroidered silk, also covered in shiny wooden buttons that bore unknown symbols on each.
>Right of the door was a fanciful, white wooden A-frame sign that had been laid face down, probably the equivalent of 'closed'.

>Hearing a female's voice speaking inside, the sharply aery tone was definitely from a mare.
>Door folding outwards, a slim pegasus fully covered by dark purple cloth armor half-skips out, stopping to look up at you.
>Head tilting left, then right after a second, and left again, the two black lenses fully covering her eyes were quite odd, while the spry tone that greets you was thoroughly unhappy.
"Hello human, can't talk more than a few seconds, have to go make sure Bren is ready to land the new buildings. Rasera-"
>Pointing a wing back at the door quickly.
"Is about to turn in but you could probably trade with her some. You'll need the white and green striped orb on the table to talk with her, Japoneighsian's the hardest bucking language to translate."
>Nodding once, the mare's wings extend as she takes a running jump, flapping off straight east.
Cheto
!!uO1R771nQs
e13851e
?
No.281631
349224
>>281608
>Cheto simply blinks as he hears the taunting promoted by the crystal mare behind closed doors, vaguely reflecting an image of what'd be like in there.
(Seems like it's quite the physical activity. Probably would break something if I were to do the same, but maybe the fillies know how to play soft.)

>A yawn happens to pass through José's mouth when he reaches the strikingly decorated tent, nodding lazily a couple of times.
(Nomad?)
>Approaching the fancy cloth stripped door enough to spot the A-frame sign, Gallo blinks once, realizing this was probably a dead end.
(Guess I'll inspect the place some more. Might be someone or pony still inside that can help me in my nocturnal endeavors... in what I assume to be daylight already.)
>Lighty scratching his arm as he opted to stand near the door, the human was slightly concerned about his tired predicament.
(Question is: Will I called upon today? The Princess seems awfully spontaneous in her decision-making from what I heard of her. Hopefully not.)

>Refocusing once again to the tent to hear the voices, the man lights up considerably.
(Alrighty. Time to see if my mild persistence has paid off!)
>Watching the pegasus walk into his view, José composes a polite yet lazy smile and patiently listens to her.
(Bren... sounds familiar... and a trader's inside here named Rasera. Potentially Tallus' Japaense mirror. Ja-po-neigh-sian.)
"Much appreciated, miss. Have a good day."
>With a small wave of his hand in a goodbye gesture, Gallo turns to the tent and, with a deep inhale and licking his teeth in anticipation, pokes his head inside the tent, eager to both find the orb on the table without unknowingly breaking customs by being too hasty.
"Excuse me. May I enter?"
>He promptly moves a hand to his mouth carefully and slowly to stop a yawn from coming out of his mouth.
Clemency
!6qV.txiH5g
6b058ed
?
No.281663
349595 349598 350667
>>281563
>>281592

>Clemency comes down from that admittedly longer than usual adrenaline dump and his senses dull to their normal level
>It only makes the slight aches and the hollow feeling even more pronounced but he focuses on the firing vectors of his field of view
>Once the Tainted came within range, Clem fired his SPAS-12 until he felt the gun lock open
>He then quickly combat loaded a shell and fired that as well
[1d6+3 = 6] <E. Combat Rifles/Shotguns
[1d6+3 = 7]
[1d6+3 = 5]
[1d6+3 = 7]
[1d6+3 = 7]
[1d6+3 = 5]
[1d6+3 = 5]
[1d6+3 = 8]

>Seeing the coming charge, he also spots what he assumes is one of Jeff's vampires performing a roundabout the Dagor and then charging at the Tainted
>Seeing what they done to the bloodhost, he is wondering whether this mare had a plan or is displaying that suicidal tenacity like the Hunter Killers
>Clem does decide that their position is still tenuous, even with Jeff on the M2
"Jeff, we need to fall back. Or at least blunt that charge!"
>Clemency then checks his visor, both for the status of the M-S.O.L.G. and his radar to see the positioning of the allied pony forces

[1d6 = 6] < Radar

>Clemency also tries to spot the other ponies Jeff mentioned, especially since they are still in that Tainted formation
Lost in the Crag Moors: A Bigger Problem Than The Last One
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281761
281762 281835
>>281230
"I have no further information available on depth pressures from my databases mom, those are my best to worst calculations given my exterior hull integri-"
>All of Wild's external and internal actions stop, both of the chest cabin's screens blacking out while the air conditioning system ceases to function.
>Half a minute later the screens returns to their original views, the left now aimed at visibly empty sky while the right showed your Eldritch Android daughter's hands twitching in sea water.
"Secondary repair system restored to basic functionality mom! I did trigger an inbuilt soft-lock caused by critical damage to my head unit and data plexii. My attempts at bypassing the soft-lock were successful but I will require an additional six to ten minutes of consolidation before my primary repair system reaches maximum efficiency-"
>Speaking in an clearly excited internal tone, once more she digs into the wreckage.
"Now conducting repairs on my primary systems and conducting intermediate metals extrapolation research-"
[1d6+4 = 5] <Arcanum Sensors Array: Research
[1d6+4 = 7] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 2] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #8

'Understood mom, but I doubt there is much to mine in this region outside of crashed vessels. Addendum: I found this hidden in one of my head unit's compartments, formerly designated as a glovebox-"
>Blipping a short affirmative, one of the medical tendrils raises up to present a strange, multi-hued ball of fuzz around the size of your fist.. which gives a surprisingly happy sounding chirp as the implement deposits it onto your lap before withdrawing out of sight.
"I do not know what this being is. Kraut placed it inside one of my safest compartments before conversion. Basic analysis: it is non-sapient and possibly non-sentient, enjoys physical contact, was unharmed after the compartment flooded. Should I study it further?"
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.281762
281835
>>281761
[1d6 = 4] <Improved Scavenging Protocols
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.281798
1467080989167.jpg
>>281563
>>281592

>Sunny eyed the obvious ritual and gave a brief, full body shake, outright disturbed.
>Don't know, don't care, don't think about it, Sunny focused only on locating Lann's shop and the Strikers.
>At least until stumbling upon an absolute unit of a batpony which had her dumbstruck for a full second. The mare simply returned its expression until it took off and revealed the corpses.
>She frowned at them, recognising the formation they'd been in when they were alive, whatever was left of them were in retreat, they hadn't even bothered to defend their casualties for recovery. The mare supposed she understood their unwillingness to lose any more of their forces to this, if that is indeed what it'd been.
>Sunny pressed a single wing over her chest briefly for the fallen before turning to Mercy.
>The larger pegasus was hovering there silently, and she didn't look too good, the mare can't have been used to seeing casualties like this if her reaction was anything to go by.
"Mercy. Mercy! In the shop, right now. Don't think about it, focus on what Jeff needs you to do. Stay with us, we don't have much time."
>She kept her ears swiveling in the meantime, waiting on Mercy to either break down or pull herself together. The immediate area was reasonably secure for the moment, even if the cost had been high.

[1d6+2 = 4] < B. Perception
[1d6+2 = 6]
Natilda
!S8UWokkL4Q
c058d89
?
No.281835
349227
>>281761
>>281762
>I couldn't help but grimace a little.
>"Yeah, neither do I."
>I perked up a bit upon hearing her next sentence.
"That's good to hear, Wild!"
>I gave her screens a warmer smile, leaning forward a bit as I glance over the views I had.
"I would imagine there'd be SOME types of metallic deposits on an ocean floor... even if it was deep under the sand. Or gear might have been tossed in while trying to keep a ship floating."
>Inwardly I was cursing the inability to help at all with anything related to this.
>I wasn't taught a damn thing about the ocean other than the Arctic was cold as all hell and shouldn't be swam in. Much.

"... What the hell is this, Wild?"
>I gingerly pick the fuzzy thing and inspect it, eyebrow raised.
"Kraut is weird. It does look cute, though."
Jeff
!!pR5PIj/cAo
5cddc34
?
No.281910
281914 349595
>>281563
>>281592
>Thankfully Sunny and Mercy were able to hustle away to the outlying buildings safely, so he could deal with the oncoming attack without them getting caught in it.
>Marshmallow Moon, having recovered from her own attempt at intimidating the Tainted horde, began a full-hearty rush into the attackers.
>That's some guts, coming from one of Luna's daughters. It somehow doesn't surprise him.
>He keeps clear of her as he fires off to the side into a lane of Tainted to try and thin them out for the Lunarites to punch through, though he loses sight of them.
>It seemed like the fifty-cal rounds were at least effective.

281663
>At some point, Clem slides up behind the Dagor's totaled front end. Keeping in stealth, it was better to not draw any attention to his friend and possibly give him away.
"Came to join the party, Clem? I was trailering the Lunarites with a Void Anchor, but it snapped when I rammed through the Tainted. They're all stuck on the other side."
>They were heavily armed AND armored. He can expect them to hold their own.
>Clem mentions something about a blood pony? He can't help but look behind him far north into the Village. Lo and behold, there up at the fountain was some sort of ritual summoning some large blood-shaped pony.
"Shit, you weren't kidding! Least they're on our side."
>Zoning back onto the Tainted, they had started forming larger beings and started charging along with a tight spear charge of smaller ones directly aimed at him, Clem, and the derelict Dagor.
"Just one more run of guns!..."
[1d6+4 = 9] <M.Leadership: Ranged
[1d6+4 = 8]
[1d6+4 = 5]
[1d6+4 = 7]
>He redirects the M2 into the point of the diamond formation, and lets off another barrage of heavy fire at it. If he can drop and topple the first few rows, the rest behind should get caught up on the downed ones and break the entire charge.
[1d6+6 = 11] <U.Heavy Weapons
[1d6+6 = 11] <M.Ranger
[1d6+6 = 7]
[1d6+6 = 12]
[1d6+6 = 12] <M2 Browning HMG
[1d6+6 = 7]

>Whether the rounds were effective or not, Jeff hears Clem's suggestion to retreat after he himself fires off his Spas-12.
"Forget it. Let's regroup with the others."
>He effortlessly hauls himself out and above the turret ring, and yells out toward Luna's daughter.
"Marshmallow! We're falling back into the Village!"
>Turning and swiftly dropping onto the ground right next to Clem, Jeff checks his gear and weapons- equipping his Honeybadger. Before hauling it toward the Southern buildings.
"By the way. That's Marshmallow Moon, one of Luna's daughters! Now, let's go!"
[1d6+5 = 7] <E.Sprint
[1d6+5 = 9]
[1d6+5 = 11]
Clemency
!6qV.txiH5g
6b058ed
?
No.281914
350667
>>281910
>Clemency turns to Jeff as he lands next to him and he yells out to this "Marshmallow"
>He peaks over the hood to see the charging pony and hopes she hears him
>Although, it is quite harrowing seeing the incoming formation coming towards them
>He turns to Jeff as he was speaking to him, talking about who that one pony was
"Daughter? Gonna have to explain that one to me."
>Clemency then follows after Jeff
[1d6+5 = 11] <M. Sprint
[1d6+5 = 8]
[1d6+5 = 7]
[1d6+5 = 10]
[1d6+5 = 9] <Airstream Sprint
[1d6+5 = 7]
Southern Canterlot Outskirts: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.282052
282136
>>281324
>Turning an embarrassed grin forwards, Nasiksta's blush remains while she speaks in apprehensive yet sincere ignorance.
"That right if say mare guard mare for tings I not know, not do. Is old po-ny word but mo-dern ponies say not for lewd. Am sorry but no know which right?"
>Tox-11 sighs in directly painful machine code, the datastream coming off as a gentle reprimand.
'enginseer, nashka has not yet experienced the natural harem cycles of equines before or their openly sexual relations. original word mareguard equates to a mare that guards another mare during mating of their harem leader, designated as a stallion, for the purposes of reproduction, sexual fulfillment, or both. pre-modern meaning is a mare that protects the herd regardless of danger, considered high honor. current modern meaning is mare that protects all other based on oaths, duties, relations, beliefs. likewise high honor. roles between mares change hourly depending on environmental-seasonal-hormonal-individual factors. she is naive and immature, enginseer. initiate diplomatic protocols: correct her understanding based on second and third meanings to preserve innocence'

>Shrugging at your implication, the girl's face turns partially crimson again before smiling in half-hearted curiousness.
"It no prank. Spiral taught lots, he say true so we learn. If you say want me guard you for tings.. I guard but no watch, no do, ye?"
>Lips tight in a naturally pensive reaction to the unnatural environmarent, the girl spreads her left hand out in a conciliatory gesture.
"No know how be on po-ny world. I ask why Tavkosht no be here, no me. He better guard: shoot better, faster, smarter. Why me? I hide in train when hit by big shells, guard lots heavy tings. Am sorry, feel bad not know. why. May-be hu-man ask Sun Princess why, how, am hope she an-swer."

>To both your questions and Nashka's words the Admiral responds with high magnitudes of caution.
'I will not claim the Inquisitor's suspicions are correct as I do not know nor understand them. While I have a great deal of information pertaining to the three Princesses desiring humans on this world, there is no singular answer. Until the time comes that we learn the circumstances of our shared arrival it is best to keep an open mind, a guarded conscience, and a light heart. There may have been no plan yet it may be that we were all placed in opportune positions to perform and cause greater works here for the betterment of xenos equines than we would have created for Imperials. There is no wrong that the Motive Force is unable to correct, Enginseer. Do not lose your hope or faith as the Empress guides all. ....which Empress, however, is for a much later discussion.'

"Not know po-ny runes. Spiral show, teach all u-ni-corn have magic. Magic do tings hard, not know sometime. No magic easy learn but magic all 'round he say. Few human use, know, learn. Hard trust what no know."
>Returning to her original, serious disposition, the girl's focus swings from each line of safes to the entire vault, submachine gun held in solid hip-firing position.
"Nm no see, hear, feel tings out place. It like big armory; cool, si-lent, maybe po-ny hide dan-ger tings?"
[1d6+1 = 7] <B.Perception
[1d6+1 = 4]

>Rapidly spooling back each data line within the past [REDACTED] years, your MIU calculates a 43.6% gravity reduction in the current environs which was slightly less than standard Voidborn vessels preferred to run.
>Sensing the Auspex running through hexadecimal code at a speed that few pieces of STC Binary wargear could accomplish, Witch-Two's contemplative transmission cuts off as Adronal's ire becomes apparent.
'Well done Enginseer. I will amend my report to showcase your intuition and high calculative capabilities. This is an excellent example of one local region-space that has been heavily modified to act as a vault with preservative qualities, similar to what would be expected from a Technos Librarium Sanctum. There are two main differences when used by the xenos equines of this world. One: the gravity decrease significantly reduces wear and strain on fragile and complex components. Two: the increased humidity aids in preventing degradation or decay of specific materials. This location is better off than standard Guard armories. I am incapable of sharing specific datum due to binding treaties yet I will state this is equivalent to a Mechanicus Reliquary. Tox-11 suspects a number of valuable relics have been carefully stored within which would be standard proto-"
'too long winded again, witch. said to keep short next time. enginseer: prioritize scanning to include only high energy-efficiency fields, energetic composite materials. exclude all similarities to: batteries, power cells, generation systems. local equines abhor wasted energy due to extreme necessities of ecological preservation protocols'

>Head shaking at your exclamation, the awful helmet tips down from her motions, the ancestral Vostroyan analogue shoving it back above her eyebrows.
"No like po-ny bank, no like po-ny ar-mor-ry. See few, this not same."

>Your biological ears catch an oddly slowed sonic drift based on the multiple echoes while the MIU calculates a greater than 70% violation of standard timestream physics, though weren't Warp-induced.

>Retaining her guardian pace off your side and casting distrustful glances at the few safes with runes or glyphs, the girl makes an acknowledging noise.
>Traveling down the central line, after a quarter minute you reach a presumably dead noble coloration safe with a set of four tumbling dials in the center.
>As Nashka turns her back to sweep for potential hostiles, Chisan's voice comes across with a readily distinctive warble.
*"Acknowledged Enginseer. Problems: moderate comm distortion, unusually high delay, minor sound decay. Your message was transmitted nineteen-point-five seconds prior. Any significant findings, and have you located the unknown equine from before?"*

[1d6 = 5] <?????
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.282083
282313
>>281391
>Frowning in the marener that meant Naliyna somewhat failed to understand your weapons terminology, her snout wiggles as the pen descends onto another application letter.
"So more like a pegasus hunter than an earth pony knight, I guess? We.. might need something like that. I've gotten a bunch of contracts for stuff to do on and in the sea but since we don't have a boat they're in that pile-"
>Motioning towards a tiny stack of silver and gold trimmed pages that were definitely of Lunar origin, she pauses to give a half-hearted sigh.
"You haven't seen Bren's storage shack or all the local stuff she's collected? If not there's probably enough to fill the Workshop ten times over so you won't have a problem. She also keeps asking to build a giant storehouse for all the wood and stone but I don't have any idea where it should go. If you want anything made just put a notice on the bulletin board, Bren will get to it.. when she has time since she said something earlier about dropping a bunch of new buildings in."
>Side eyeing the Cairn Wharf notice, Naliyna presents a modestly approving smile.
"Says no neighgotiation allowed for that one. I'll visit her when I get a few minutes, really want to look over everything she's got. Some of those things so old I've only heard a little about them but never seen so much as pieces. If they're real then I'll try to work out some trades. Probably go to the Sea Shack while I'm there too, they have some neat stuff Krinza might want."

>The translocation matrice behind you springs up into a woven iron gateway, loud hoof thunks heralding a new arrival.
>Passing by you to stop several paces from Naliyna's table was a fairly short unicorn clad in terribly plain and steel knight's armor, once a common marecenary pattern but fell out of favor decades prior due to complexity.
>For whatever reason the spiraling neon green horn was fully exposed, although bands of what looked like red platinum had been tightly fitted into each groove.
>Giving a short nod to the Crystal mare, the unicorn's head swings about, two unusually glittering red eyes examining you from behind clear diamond lenses.
"This must be Razorback. Greetings to the both of you."
>The voice was that of a pleasantly soft toned 30's mare with highly clipped and professional military mareners, her prior eagerness subdued.
"I am Lucid Shock of the Germaneighan 19th Burst Cavalry detached from the 4th Imperial Guard Fleet Division under High General Still Flower's direct orders. It is my duty to discharge the three humans under my protection once I have confirmed Razorback Companeigh will accept them. If you would confirm this vocally then I shall authorize their release them into your herd."

>Forcing both of her forehooves down and away from giving her snout some extra pain tonight, Naliyna turns a deadpan 'I military speak' expression towards you.
Mallia Castella
!mAMS0VcYXk
858c55d
?
No.282136
349230
>>282052
>Quarter-turning her head back towards Nasiksta after her response, she barely has the time to query for assistance that Tox-11 was already informing her.
>Even if his tone elicited a sense of shame from the Enginseer as she struggled, and ultimately failed to suppress the powerful urge to apologize.
(My bad. I'm sorry. Will correct this. Thank you.)

>Mallia's head fully turned as the girl explained on about Spiral.
>Then made some pretty HEFTY implications that IMMMEDIATELY forced Mallia to rapidly shake her head and her mechadendrite in negative response.
"No-no! Absolutely not Nasiksta!"
>The Enginseer turned around slightly to be able to face the girl as she speaks up. Her mechadendrite springing infront of her and holding up the clamp as if it were a finger
"Hear this, my stalwart guard! As the highly reliable friend I have in this helmet,"
>Her mechadendrite lifts to tap the side of the jet black flak helmet in question. Toc toc.
"Has kindly taught me just this second, the meaning of that word that you know is outdated!"
>The enginseer nodded to herself like a bobblehead, speaking as they made their slow walk across the vault room.
>Mallia's mechadendrite gesticulating beside her as if it were her arm, while the other two real arms held a shield and a laspistol at the ready respectively.
"The pre-modern and modern meanings of the word are titles of High honor, Nasikta. The former meaning describes a mare that protects the herd regardless of danger. The former is a mare that protects ALL others based on oaths, duties, relations, and beliefs."

>The Enginseer's mechadendrite slinks backwards to near the respirator of her flak helmet to tap herself on her armored 'cheek' with one of the mechanical claws.
"Raindrop Raspberry likely meant the former for you, Nasiksta. Nothing lewd about it! And personally speaking, I feel that it suits you as your very meaningful name suits you."
>She gave Nasiksta a quick nod, her tone ending on a serious but slightly chirpy note that is mostly due to the modulated pitch of her soft voice.

>Though when the more emotionally hitting response to her 'Why am I here' comes from Nasiksta, the Enginseer stopped. Not looking directly at the girl. And the helmet concealed her expression, making it hard to read exactly how she felt hearing her say that. But she looked very tense, again.
>Even her mechadendrite stops it's lively motions stiffly, stopping beside her arm.

"Then... You know my anxiety. Unreasonable as it may seem."
"It's--uhm... One of my goals in this new life of mine to find the Alicorn princess who has saved my life, and ask her why she has done it. And..."
>Her voice drifts off, into a pitifully sad little voice.
"..."

>She doesn't end up being able to say it.
>Or think it.
>She didn't know what to do at that point yet. Everything felt weirdly meaningless, in that single moment.

"... Hm..."

>It perhaps was not helped by the the Admiral as she speaks up and elaborates.
>Mallia's reply is surprisingly almost instant, and carried with it a heavily cautious, and slow-spoken tone.
(... I'm sorry Admiral. I still cannot process... Any of this. What you say has a logical and correct value, but on an emotional level I am struggling. I do not feel that I am ready to fully let go of my cynicism and inherent distrust. In case I am let down and made a fool of.)

>Then the Enginseer does a mental double take on 'The EMPRESS guides all', followed by 'WHICH EMPRESS'.
>Her back visibly straightens as she very inquisitively begins to prod Admiral Auspex with a more urgent and distress-filled line of questioning
(--And what---on Holy Mars are you talking about, Admiral Dranaki? What Empress? I have no frame of reference for any Empress, much less in the plural. The Emperor of Mankind, right? You...)
(Please tell me it's NOT what I think this is...)

>Mallia's walking pace resumed immediately at a striding gait, speeding up towards the safe she was targeting while still tapping the side of her helmet, still with her pistol-hand, while her shield raised to cover more of her front.
>Approaching the silvery safe and taking in the four tumbler dials... Starting to holster her laspistol to free up her hand.
(10,000 possible combinations? Possible to crack. If only I had the skill to do it fast.)
"It's very possible!"
>Anna replied to Nasiksta with a chirpy tone that ignored her current mood.
"So I am going to attempt to be very careful with opening anything, if I am even going to open something..."

>Her head turns rapidly as she looked up towards the ceiling at the sound of that echo.
>The woman shuddered.
"Brr... I do not like how the echoes are mixing in here. Very, very not abiding to the laws of physics..."
>After a moment, she looked back down. Putting her fingers on the safe to see if it reacts somehow... Tapping it a few times, knocking on it.

>Mallia listens patiently to the contexts the Admiral is laying out. Until Tox-11 speaks.
(Wilco. If the previous Chroniton scan is complete, I will spool up the Auspex's conventional scanning module to detect energy signatures.)

[1d6+4 = 9] <BQ. Auspex

>She is literally one tenth of a second from ordering a diagnostic of the Vox systems, when Chisan speaks through her Vox with a slight interference.
"Oh thank the mechanism."
>She took a step back close to Nasiksta, speaking into the Vox.
*"The nature of the Gateway, the fact that this is a type of pocket dimension, may be causing interference as I suspected. The majority of the safes in here have no runes left on them, but some still have some that are apparently functional. Unsure if it perhaps a more durable type of design or continued maintenance? The atmosphere is also highly engineered to preserve what is in here."*
*"No sign of the unknown equine at this time. Will report on that. Over."*

>Before she starts playing with the safe, she actually turns around and gives the whole room another scan. This time using the Preysense again.

[1d6+4 = 8] <B. Perception + BQ. Preysense.
[1d6 = 6]
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
c058d89
?
No.282313
349231
>>282083
>"Eh, at least she got it somewhat."
"For a naval gun, they carry small ones. So yeah, more like a hunter."
>Close enough.
"I try not to, she might hit me."
>He shrugged and made a mental note to write it down.

>Bubba glanced behind him, before turning to meet the unicorn fully.
>Listening to what she said, he hummed lightly.
>"Germaneighan, eh?"
"What information do you have on them, first? I'd rather know about them a little."
>While Bubba was probably going to say yes anyway, its better to know about what exactly he was agreeing to.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
e137111
?
No.282377
349310
>>281601
>Pareidolia eyes the wish disc with some trepidation as he takes it, stowing it in a vest pouch.

[Another risk introducing device...]

>Glancing over his HUD quickly, he steps out the door of the Command Bunker and makes his way towards the Bulletin Board.
>He frowns as he considers what his A.I. told him.

"If there is a way to open one of those feeds to me, I'd like to make it clear she should not be placing operational strain on my equipment. Lonestar can be designated a VIP given his position within Razorback. Other situational information will need to be discussed when we aren't in a pre-operation state."

[Lonestar misunderstood my intent. Will need to rectify later.]

>Arriving at the flier covered stand, he methodically combs through them, paying particular interest to Clemency's note about the M.S.O.L.G and Emerald's Recording.
>He mutters to himself as he reads:

"Untenable. Catastrophic backlash of events put into motion from before I arrived and beyond my ability to control. Once again, the Committee's proven correct by short sighted individual human action. Construct aggression likely increasing in response to an evolving threat. If their weapon protocols are designed to match the combatants they face, then human presence is going to..."

>Stiffening suddenly, he reaches into his pack searching for the unusual Construct arm Clemency had given him back on the Citadel.
Anonymous
83607d7
?
No.282862
gXtq-9pw.png

And I Ran, So So Far Away -A Small Nuisance
The GM L.O.N.T
0d15073
?
No.283594
Ambush: +1 Token to Spruce


>Golden Horns' hooves clacked sharply on the solid cut floor of the corridor as he galloped like his life depended on it.
>Actually yes it did!
"We..must..go..faster!"
>He neighed in distraught to Adon and Spruce between heavy puffs of breath, this sudden need to run fast was not jelling well with his age and creaking joints but the adrenaline coursing through his veins made up for that.

>>278013 →
>For the seven seconds it took Golden to cover eight metres it took Adon to cross six metres in two seconds thanks to his enhanced and much, much younger physique.
"Good...work there...!"
>Wheezed Golden as his advice was taken.

>>280266
>Although weighed down by a rocket launcher and the other trappings of a modern soldier Spruce was as quick on his feet as the Witcher, proving pure dadrenaline was as good as any alchemy concoctions.
>He took off with such speed in fact that the Chitqu that was nibbling up a storm next to his ear squeaked in panic and dug its tiny claws into the fabric of the Operators' clothing to stay on for dear life.

>Spruce and Adon were shoulder to shoulder as they sprinted down the reddening hall, their slamming footfalls echoing through the length of this trap room drowning any other noise that could be heard.
>Golden Horn on the other hoof was initially slower than the two humans but thanks to the fear of death motivating him he was able to gallop past between the two and was now ahead a full two metres in front of them.
"I...I see the end of the hallway!"
>Whinnied the pony as he pointed out that in the distance there was a bright white light, which was in stark contrast to the blood red of the corridor.
>It was only roughly 92 metres away...

>Suddenly multiple flashes of magical rings appeared on the floor, walls and ceiling. Shining magically in many hues of colour even though the world was currently a dominating crimson.
"Can't...be...good!"
>Exclaimed Golden, pointing out the obvious.

(1:52)

>Roll Speed to see how many metres you cross.
>Roll Reaction Speed the amount of seconds it took.
Anonymous
228a7b4
?
No.284953
foggymorningstump_commission.png

Anonymous
f4352a2
?
No.285733
Amerose.png

Anonymous
d871779
?
No.286533
Flash.png

Anonymous
ced177c
?
No.293263
1434578008545.png
>>286879
Anonymous
3b66836
?
No.294268
6.png

Anonymous
30d9af0
?
No.295188
1429771638413.gif

Anonymous
64a2d6b
?
No.298244
2.png

Anonymous
9fedfaf
?
No.318507
iont.png

Razorback Fortress: The Workshop, Underground Tunnel System
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349223
349307
>>281596
>Making a disgruntled ke-he sound batponies seemed to use when disgusted, the Guardmare's voice lowers into a satisfied pitch.
"Got the right idea there human. I hate gossip too, much prefer facts, reports, and mem-orbs. Then again I'm a Moonborn, only visited the Moors a few times a year. So, most all Lunars think the same way."
>Slowing her pace a bit, an encouraging snicker is accompanied by her wingclaws snapping together.
"I've seen some humans using their weapons at that range thing a few times. Steel's a bit too useful to throw around, ought to use bronze, nickel, silver, something heavy like that. And yeah, I got trained in survival tracking methods the second I got into the Lunar Guard. It sticks, especially when drilled in for months on end. Also I'm a batpony, our noses are good enough to tell the exact second when fruit is perfectly ripe."

>Keeping directly behind the mare, her voice rings down the tunnel while you continue to note a definite lack of modifications, let alone damage to the compressed semi-stone.
>Which, you realize, was an insane undertaking to construct a tunnel network like this as not even Duty would have the manpower, let alone machinery, to burrow this much out,
>The Claw pauses mid-step at a surprise echo of her last word from the right, directly in front of her, she pauses and cranes her head to stare at the wall.
>Sliding forwards a few steps to gesture at the location for you, you catch the tiniest scent of multiple unicorns, mostly that peculiar book smell most of them had.
"Hodch, one hour ago. Floppy hat unicorn, two hours. Helping Hoof.. half an hour. It's kind of like-"
>Reaching forwards to flick her right set of wingclaws into the spot she was examining, the almost spicy aftertaste of something like a Sparkler that had been dropped in the middle of a bonfire hits your nostrils.
"Nope, Changeling illusion wall. Roust's been here for sure, but what's that weird crystal smell? Almost like something Naliyna would ma-"

>Cut off by several irate voices reverberating back, the most prominent one was Denra, angry, the second Helping Hoof's in a much more calm, though concerned tone.
"-an we do to replace this?! Fuck Spiral and his triple redundancies that never get checked!"
"Please, stop. I know there is not a single one hundred-pound power crystal on the market, believe me, I went through every listing in Canterlot, the Crystal Empire, Manehattan, Fillydelphia, and New Shark. If Caliya was right, the last time I spoke with him the chance of acquiring one is less than zero-point-nine percent."
>Hodch was last, sighing in a grim fashion; the trio sounding less than 30M away in a small room.
"I am forced to agree, those are both old and incredibly rare. Not even the Starborn have access to one these days. But, Denra, this does explain why all of the demi-sentient's power outages and strange behaviors have occurred. We need to find a replacemarent and fast."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349224
349305
>>281631
>The tent entrance's lighting was little more than two dim, large candles on short dark wooden tables, though as you peek inwards the scene is one of rather basic, albeit exotic, fare:
>Dozens of small paper lanterns hang suspended in the air on nothing, close to cream white semi-reflective cloth walls making up the interior walls.
>Scattered around the entire tent are dozens of futons, all stacked, that looked quite comfortable for one pony though would be incredibly small for a human that isn't a legitimate dwarf.
>Each of the taller stacks are covered in small wooden boxes of varying color, each wrapped in a variety of intricate bows or folded paper ribbons.
>Immediately to your left is a short, ashen-bronze colored end table, the only object atop it a ping pong ball sized green and white swirling sphere placed in the center atop a simple black sheet.

>Near the rear is a much larger large traveling futon, a bright while silky one you note, that was probably for three ponies; owner's perks, probably.
>Sitting in the center is a dark sable blue mare of roughly earth pony height, thought much slimmer and more wiry.
>Giving a pensive blink before pointing her front left hoof towards you, then off to your left, the mare sits up straight before clearing her throat.
>Emitting a dull chime tone as the mare speaks in a thick, heavily Asiatic accent, the sphere tilts forwards on the table as it translates in a bizarrely flat, sex-neutral tone.
"Greetings to human of the Razorback Companeigh! I am traveler Rasera of trader Clan Cavalier, Neighpon. What have you seek here?"

>Outside a sharp whistle is heard before a series of dimly muted thuds, along with the orders of a female, or more likely mare, crew boss shouting orders.
Lost in the Crag Moors: A Bigger Problem Than The Last One
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349227
349228 349308
>>281835
>Tendrils heaving upwards into view, Wild's heavily damaged hands reach down to lift a massive albeit thoroughly rust covered.. something.
>Probably a giant spear, maybe a harpoon.
>Hopefully.
"Not as good as I would prefer mom, there is a high possibility the soft-lock was triggered due to overstressing my Tryptaran mass. I have less than thirty-five percent remaining. If I were to expend more then there is a ninety-percent probability my secondary systems will go offline."
>Puzzled at the thing for a few seconds, she pushes it off to the side clasped in the right hand before thin streams of red light congregate under the viewscreen.
"Minimal references located: sub-shore oceanic regions rarely feature naturally occurring metals or metalloid compounds, basic compounds in majority. The wreckage contains enough materials to fully repair my motivators, drive systems, and potentially my hull. Update: I have located enough specialized materials to reproduce my secondary sensor arrays, attempting reconstruction now-"
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2[ <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #8

>Emitting a short beep, the Wild caricature on screen disappears to be replaced by a much larger image of the creature.
>Which wriggles around in your hands, the softness much like a feline's coat of hair.
"Genus: error, information not found. Technical species name: oceanic spheroid sand skipper, minor. Subspecies designation: Puff Skipper. Habitat: shallow oceanic. Threat index: zero. Pest status: not located. General information: Puff Skippers are prized as pets by most equines for their softness, low maintenance, and long lifespans. Utility information: Puff Skippers are able to release a small fog and blinding magnesium-like flash of light when startled or squeezed with enough force. Addendum: oceanic spheroid skippers do not contain a standard nervous system, you will not be able to harm it without extreme force. None of my databanks contain additional information; there is a severe amount of damage within my head unit that I am unable to repair at the current time."

>Slightly twisting left and upwards to view the waves overhead, the ash and debris had mostly subsided.
>Refocusing her camera, the fuzzy outlines of two oval silhouettes can be seen at a great distance.
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Arcanum Sensor Array
"Alert Priority One: unidentified Constructs at approximately ten kilometers. Estimated arrival time: two-point-five minutes at current trajectory and speed."
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349228
>>349227
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
Imminent Retrieval: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349230
349328
>>282136
'good. update: witch unable to find the equine she located earlier. not anomaly, had distinct patterns. tracker and i will search for it now'
>Tox-11's frequency drops immediately as one of the Auspex unit's previously unused microfans kicks up to high speed, though still fairly quiet.

>Returning only a half-mortified smile after your explanation, the girl's shoulders raise and drop quickly, her death grip on the boxy submachine gun lessening.
>Just a little.
"Gave fright, ye. Am not know lot, hard learn pony words but now under-stand. Not meet Raindrop yet, but voice nice. And thank. Name old one, grandma gave, say conquer big thing one day."
>Nodding briefly, the pre-Vostroyan turns her head back to the vault with a tight-lipped expression of unease.
"Am same Mah-lia. Ray-zor-back not good shape, time now. Am want meet sun princess, no find way yet. No pony or human see her two year now, maybe more. Am hope we do."

'I have been here long enough to ascertain certain truths that are unfortunately outside of your ability to make contact with. Until then be who you are rather than what was expected. That is all I ask of you.'
>Blipping a short warning tone, Witch-Two's ASCII returns to display a slightly loathing expression.
'The Empress, Mallia. Thank the Inquisitor for having the foresight to avoid that one. The Emperor certainly exists, but he is not here. That is a dimension and universe separate from this one. As there is no Astronomicon I will only state this: we must guide each other. Trust in yourself and your allies above all else. We will speak in secret later.'

>Visibly less apprehensive now, Nasiksta carefully slings her weapon up before poking at a top safe's dials several away from yours.
"Am do same ye. No see, hear, feel, taste no rune or sigil."
>Rolling the dials quietly for a bit, her eyes narrow under the cheap helmet's tiny brim.
"Ye, ma-gic lot places. Here, old ma-gic taste. ..lock no sound. No carry out, heavy. Not know how open. What do?"
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <B.Perception
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]

>Making an irritated approximation of a grunt, Andronal's Binary tone is equal parts frustrated and concerned.
'chroniton scans complete enginseer, caching now. original scan located equine eighty meters underneath depository in collapsed tunnel. high heat signature, approximately one hundred twenty degrees. large scale emissions related to enchantments, specialized weaponry, archaic armor, fully enhanced. estimated threat index: eleven of twenty at minimum. our current location: five to eight hundred meters below depository. suggestions witch?'
'Calculating.. done. You, Chisan, and the team here combined do not have the combat capabilities to engage a threat level higher than five of twenty. I suggest an immediate evacuation.'
'agree. get moving enginseer, four of us are unable to help you in our states'

*"...signal gain boosted on Knight Raindrop's recommendation, comm delay now one quarter of previous. Estimated life of standard equine esoteric 'magic' ranges from fifty to five hundred years. Assume majority of safes are null."*

>Initiating a close range sweep of the vault, the interface screen quickly blankets out to display a rapidly increasing number of high energy and esoteric symbols.
>Reading off the rapidly spooling datum streams, a variety of familiar, and some complete unknowns, read off as direct warnings: Acid, Air, Earth, Ice, Lightning, Magma, Permafrost, Plasma, Rime, Water, Void, among others that you couldn't translate.
>Quickly following are a series of alerts detailing Dominion, Ethereal, Empire, Rift, Vortex, and a heart-stopping variety of others identified as assuredly lethal in too-close proximity.

>The Scion's voice returns in a hard tone accompanied by the familiar sounds of weapons being readied and helmets slapped on.
*"Engineer, the Commissar's team did not locate signs of equine presence except for the traveling group much earlier on the lowest south terrace. This region is completely uninhabited in a one hundred kilometer radius. Retreat immediately, we are en route back. Assume unknown equine is hostile but do NOT open fire unless given direct cause to do so. Retreat immediately, we are en route for your exfil-"*
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Commissar: E.Leadership
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]

[1d6 = 3] <????? Reaction
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349231
349232 349304
>>282313
>Sniffing aloud through the armored slots in her muzzle mask, Lucid's head turns left, then right, while Naliyna sits back and puts on her best 'this is totally fine and I'm not worried' face.
>Which fails instantly when the Germaneighan swivels onto her, speaking in a brusquely no-nonsense pace.
"Little."
>Before you or Naliyna can rebut her, Lucid turns to face you while rocking back on her hooves, red eyes squinting.
"Two military males. First is a long ranged combatant, age thirty to forty, good shape, stout, reasonable. Heavy primary rifle, secondary small pistol, white winter clothing, large amount of survival equipment, no armor except thin helmet. Second is a short ranged combatant, medium close range automagi-"
>Catching herself with a small snort, the mare continues on.
"Automatic weapon, secondary small pistol, no armor. Wood camouflage clothing, moderate survival equipment. Shorter than first, thin build, quick, aggressive but polite. Was addicted to something, no longer. Third is human female, average height, build. Archaic clothing, heavy cotton armor, crude. Old weapons: steel spear and combat axe, both covered in runes. Wood round shield, edges covered in heavy iron wrap, odd symbol on front."
>Head tilting upwards, the lenses glow faintly as she hisses out her next words, though not with any malice you could tell.
"Accept or deny quickly, they need to be protected and Germaneigh is in the middle of a shitstorm. Shrikes have returned in several regions and a thousand-times damned Construct Continental Invasion Carrier was sighted above Equestria."

>Upon hearing some word the other mare spoke, Naliyna immediately seizes her table's edge with a death grip, the ironwood audibly creaking.
{1d6] <Reaction
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349232
>>349231
[1d6 = 1] <Reaction
One Quiet Place
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349303
7Jef2Jm.jpg
>>203126 →
>At least the locale was allowing you to cool down somewhat, though the constant sunspots in your eyes were a bit concerning.

"Could've been much worse. Discord gave me a thousand to one odds they'd go for another Siege. Had to take it too, no way out of that margin. I put up a couple thousand batpony stickers that say 'just hanging around' in case you escaped alone. He matched with a never ending barrel of chocolate milk. Lovebutt said fifty-fifty split on Razorback being forcefully herded, her bet was a decommissioned Kingdom Knight outpost."
>Hearing footsteps coming out the portal, Anon's rueful yet relieved tone is accompanied by an unfolding chair.
"Imagine the surprise when we all lost."
>The sound of something being lit, right above you no less, comes with a loud snicker.
"Blueberry cigarillo for your thoughts? And, nice lighter."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349304
349311
>>349231
>"Oh great, unknowns perhaps."
>He'd listen carefully, arms behind his back as she described the three.
>"Not a clue on who these three are."
>With a shrug and nod, he was about to say to bring them when she continued.
>Hiding his annoyance at being interrupted, he listened to her addition.
>"Oh, that's not fucking good."
>Glancing back at the stroke that Naliyna seemed to have at the news, he sighed.
"Bring them on over, we'll take care of them. Godspeed on getting shit wrapped up over in Germa-, er, Germaneigh."
>He'd never really get used to the fucking horse puns.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349305
349312
>>349224
>There was no doubt now that this place was brimming with opportunities, yet he felt somewhat confused at its existence when his mind slightly drifted to all the reading he's done thus far.
>Something told him he had a lot more to learn regarding economical structures in this world named Tallus.
>However, it was slightly hard to really focus on it as the sleep-depravity lingered on. All he knew is that he needed some sleeping arrangements before having some time to reminisce about everything again
>At any time, the princess that he had to work with could come and announce their eventual reunion with her court and he'd rather not make an ass out of himself if he could help it.

>Feeling himself drifting further off than necessary, Gallo blinked a few times before brandishing his usual amicable smile and cautiously entered the tent proper, stopping at the entrance.
"Good day, miss Traveller Rasera," he'd greet the trading traveller with a curt, albeit slightly wobbly, little bow. "I seek a suitable sleeping quarters for me to rest from my work."
>José promptly eyed down at the orb on the table, wondering it it'll too recite his words in her language in that same voice.
>However, his eyes couldn't help but glance at the futon with a little longing sentiment as his mouth covered the impending yawn his body would release at the sight.
Bren's Cabin: Another Nuisance?
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349306
349309
File (hide): 83359101BE36A5DB2ACC0B783C4988B1-2730595.mp4 (2.6 MB, Resolution:1280x720 Length:00:00:10, WAKE_UP.mp4) [play once] [loop]
WAKE_UP.mp4
>>201319 →
"-ake up."
>One poke.
"Come on, wake up!"
>Then another.
"If you don't wake up then I'm going to eat the chocolate cake and drink this... peach wine that unicorn left for you!"
>That immediately wakes the Wroth who doesn't even need to use the knight's eyes to see the presence of.. a ghost?
"There you go, up and at 'em. Say, you look about as dead as I feel right now!"
>Bright turqoise eyes blink down from the squishy pale green face of a cackling, transparent Crystal mare, standing on the ceiling.
>Double checking, Andra realizes that, yes, there was a Crystal pony ghost.
>On the ceiling.
>By far not the worst situation, but definitely one of the more odd ones.
>Surrounded by a rose tinted mane at least twice her length wafting in ethereal breeze, the mare's forehooves clop together, making only the faintest sound as she grins.
"Knew I could smell one of Cadenza's elixirs somewhere, only took me dying of boredom for the third time to find it! You don't look TOO bad though. How you feeling?"

>Surprisingly, you felt.. almost fully recovered.
>Except for the taste of raw crystal coming from everywhere and nowhere.

>The mare's tail, three times longer than her body, swishes back and forth while rocking side to side on her hooves.
"I gotta say this place is more wild than I thought, must've been enough wakes to keep all the dead up for years straight!"
Ivan the Stalker
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349307
349315
>>349223
"Mem-orbs? I take it you can look at memories through them. Nothing like that back home, just videos."
>He rose an eyebrow at the thought, before mentally shrugging and focusing on what he couldn't see very well.
"We use steel for a whole lot of things. Of course, shotgun pellets are also made out of lead a lot of the time. Easier to make."
>"Impressive."
"In the Zone we... really learn as we go, unless one joins Duty or Freedom. Or if you pay someone to help teach you."
>He still had the acid burn scars to prove he didn't pay someone.

>He was almost too slow to stop, nearly ramming his face right into her flanks as she pauses, causing him to take a quick shuffle backwards to give her some room.

"Should we uh, interrupt them?"
>He quietly asked, listening to them talk, even if a couple terms went right over his head.
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349308
349318
>>349227
>Squinting at the spear-like object for a moment, I quickly frown and glance down at the... thing, in hand.
>And them become immediately confused by what she said.
"I'll... pretend like I know what you just said and agree with you."
>This is definitely not something I would have learned in school. Probably not even college, for that matter.
.>Considering that giant metal beings didn't exist back home.
>But repairing the hull was something I knew about!

>I idly give it a soft rub as she explains what the hell it was.
"So I can use it as a... what do they call them, flashbang? I'll be sure not to accidentally set it off then."

"How much longer until you're able to repair what you can with this stuff?"
>"Two and a half minutes isn't exactly much time."
The Long Awaited Awakening
Indurian
!!yTO.NMjpuo
571c39f
?
No.349309
349322
>>349306
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKSu-wZChcQ&t=1345s
>["You'd best wake, now, knight. I grow weary of these pokes and prods."]
>Indurian stirs restlessly, then sits bolt upright, covers flying and a hand racing to his hip
"W-WHA"
>Finding no blade holstered there, the knight looks up at the strange mare with bewilderment written plainly across his face, his hand which had reached instinctively for his weapon falling limp at his side
"And you are...?"
>being almost entirely unfamiliar with the taste of raw crystal, Indurian spends a silent moment working this new sensation through
>He spends another moment... chewing. Testing this new feeling in his very jaws.
"I... I must say that to my surprise, I am feeling... whole. Healed, at least so far as I may discern."
>Now focusing his eyes again upon the strange figure apparently glued to the ceiling, his eyes narrow in a resigned yet somewhat suspicious manner at this newcomer
"I must say, I have encountered some of your kind, yet none as yet so... apparently eccentric as thyself."
>He slowly begins rolling out of his resting position, getting to his feet and stretching muscles which have, by the feeling of them, gone unused for some time now
"Pray tell, who art thou? For what purpose hast thou entered my chambers, if not simply to awaken me from my slumber? Art thou friend, or be thou foe?"
Razorback Fortress: Bulletin Board
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349310
351100
>>282377
>The meandering pace of post-human faux-propaganda, most of the religious subtones disguised a subtly ironic, careful information stream of highly useful knowledge using the equivalent of clickbait titles.
>Which was exactly the opposite of what the A.I. stated it was ignoring.
>Rather amusingly, by taking each paragraph and reversing the open meaning, the Inquisitor's written litanies against 'Abominable Intelligence' were well founded short essays on the dangers of uncontrolled artificial intelligence, further detailing that A.I. were excellent companions should human contact not be readily available for short periods of time.
>Reversing a pseudo-religious cautionary slogan, the opposite meaning states A.I. should not be utilized for longer periods of time due to increasing likelihoods of dissociative social disorders.
>The next one, reversed, is a peculiar format detailing that the 'unknown' should not be feared, instead that individual fears must be conquered before true knowledge can be learned from experience.
>Bringing up the last window on essential infield hygiene care to read, it was blatantly obvious that the A.I.'s 80% or so loss of original information would continue to hinder even your most basic efforts.

"Understood sir, I'll continue self-modification subroutines. I've identified forty-nine instabilities and vulnerabilities in my current state that might, if corrected, allow me to resist Construct programming more effectively."
>With that 'Spiral' begins filtering through a number of critical processes and error codes that would have been exceptionally worrying were it still infected.
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]

>Reaching over your head into the pack and fishing about for the unusual heavy weight object that had been carefully wedged between your radio and shovel..
>It was gone.

>Paying less-than-usual attention to your words and actions, the A.I. leaves it background efforts in view, then gets up from its seated position to trot around the helmet's interior, disappearing from sight.
>Rapidly galloping back into view and screeching to halt with a distinctly frightened expression, it slaps several images of the arm and weapon sticking out the side from the time period you were in Spiral's Lab before the Starblazer model fully self-repaired.
"I swear upon Epona's great teats that I do NOT know what happened to the Construct manipulating limb and weapon sir! It must have been removed during the period that InterPony was interfacing with me but I don't suspect General Thansimum or the other two removed it-"
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349311
349376
>>349304
>Losing her previous tone, Lucid Shock sighs in a relieved fashion before giving a short, respectful nod.
"Thank you. Several Heavy Cruiser squadrons were detached to ensure their safety, but with the Rams of Ewerup declaring war and the sightings of many Shrikes-"
>You immediately notice that she didn't use the standard 'marely'.
"Appearing in regions they were driven from our duties, let alone supply lines, have nearly quardrupled. I will ask them to immediately relocate here."
>Taking on her original curious voice, Lucid Shock's eyes gleam behind the diamond lenses as right foreleg extends upwards and out in a high salute.
"Heil Fuerra Kitler, and to the good tidings of Razorback!"

>Swiftly about facing on the stone and muttering a series of words that you could clearly understand, the black armored mare sinks into a neon yellow tunnel.

>Apparently having taken all of the shit possible for her normal waking hours, Naliyna's eyes erupt in furious glows as she bends over the ironwood table.
>Standing up while hefting the heavy piece of furniture, she slams it into the stone with loudly ringing impacts.
>With, as you note, doesn't harm it or the stone save for a few small splinters flying off the legs.
"I AM FUCKING DONE WITH TONIGHT!"
>Shrieking profanities in Crystal Kingdom dialect, the trader leaps over the table onto the translocation matrice and barks an order that the Vortex Remnant takes seriously, enveloping her in a spastic, half-transparent steel tunnel.

>That probably couldn't have gone any worse.
>Maybe.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349312
349314
>>349305
>Staring from you to the stacks of futons, head and neck craning about to gaze at those behind her, the mare's ears flick nonstop.
"Greetings to traveler. May have of not suitable bed."
>Finding nothing suitable, Rasera taps the large one she was on before giving a short head shake, the orb's surface roiling in translation.
"Apologies for no of beds here suitable for size of human. This of for spirit upon sleep."
>Emitting a low nicker at the closest paper lantern, it unfurls into a tiny, long bright white dragon-like creature with a series of red horizontal stripes across the entire body.
>Except for having burning pink eyes, a well groomed large mustache, fancily coiffed paper, possibly cloth, bright golden headdress, and a miniature sheathed katana clasped between the front talons, it could pass for an excellent tattoo.
>Rasera nickers again, this time with a short head bob, the creature making a deeply sweeping bow, then warping into the same lantern as before.

>Lifting a hoof to poke her chin several times while eyeing the various boxes scattered throughout the tent, she makes a small frown.
"Castle of humans big so is sad no room sleep inside walls. See only two, three home here. Must of be hard find room here? Have hear mare builder of new homes, name.. am forget. You know?"
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349314
349320
>>349312
>Gallo, albeit with a slightly sagging posture at the immediate bad news, couldn't help but watch in awe as what he presumed were the futon's true users.
>His tired eyes soon found the usual spark of wonder he's been recurringly having as the world around him slowly and teasingly unfurled yet another seeming fact in front of him.
>The human reciprocated the bowing from the dragon before it turned back into its original paper latern before once again directing his attention to the Japoneighse mare.
"Indeed," he succinctly replied, trying to keep his sentences simple so as not to mess with the translator. "Perhaps my best bet is to find that mare you speak of unless you know of other alternatives."

>Perhaps the one outside barking orders at the crew may be the one Rasera was talking about, but since they were working right now, perhaps he'd have some time to explore more options available.
>Maybe figure out bits and pieces of her culture as well.
>A part of him felt that would lead to some unwarranted cultural toying like with that Frost said, though...
Maybe it won't be so bad if he had one little ear scritch?
Razorback Fortress: Underground Tunnels
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349315
349331
>>349307
"Pretty much the same as human video stuff, only problem is they don't work well for most ponies except unicorns. Even they have problems with those."
>Reaching forwards to poke around the invisible wall rather carefully, the Lunar's voice takes on an amused yet slightly concerned tone.
"Mean like those Scars in the Moors? Batponies like poking around 'em. A few marenage to find neat stuff like that black moss or Void drops a few humans here use. Torven used to do that until he got bored of mares always trying to chase him down."
>Bending forwards to sniff at the illusionary wall, the batmare takes a half-step into it, causing a small rippling effect.
>Which almost made it look like her head had been cut off.
>Stepping back to give a rumbling exhale, the mare's head turns enough to give a stressed nod.
"Definitely. I know exactly what they mean, but just in case you don't: this Fortress is controlled by a something-or-other sentient thing Spiral made. Never met him but I've heard a lot. According to Belltower he used some old big crystal, one that looks like three stalactites upside down, to power it and all the other functions. Heating, cooling, lights, defenses, you name it. Since he left this place-"
>Making a short flicking motion from her claws.
"Has been falling apart. Started pretty slow to begin with, sometimes it wouldn't say the names of arrivals, or from where. Now? Pagoda thing doesn't even work one in twenty times. When it does it sounds confused, constantly mixes up names, locations, everything pretty much."
>Pausing as Denra and Hodch begin hotly debating in unicorn at each other, the batpony clasps her chin with the right set of wingclaws.
"Then again there might not be much you or me can do, 'less you know where we could get ahold of some big power crystal real quick."
Lost in the Crag Moors: A Bigger Problem Than The Last Two
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349318
349319 349332
>>349308
"Displaying external view of damage-"
>Rotating towards the deeper waters, Wild's caricature takes up the entire screen, the schematic showing a worrying number of damaged systems and components.
>Virtually her entire external hull from the sensor arrays atop her head to the artificial boots were in a slowly flashing deep red.
"Red denotes critically damaged hull plating-"
>Displaying an interior view and internal systems, a few of which were vaguely tank shaped, roughly a quarter of her systems were blacked out, another half in red, the rest green.
"Black is destroyed, green are online and functional-"
>Noting the extremely thin armor plates and harness of wires leading to a distressing variety of electronics or basic systems, nearly all were in black.
"Eighty-nine percent of internal and interior electronics are nonfunctional, severe damage to head and shoulder compartments."
>Between the extensive damage was a number of destroyed objects that you couldn't identify, and seemed to be related to movement.
>Slipping between armor and drive systems were black tendrils attached to specific points, ones that seemed function as both muscles and tendons.
"This is my Tryptaran mass, it allows me to translate electrical currents into movement, deploy weaponry, activate or shut down electronics, and initiate self-repairs. If I fall below a certain amount my entire body will be incapable of functioning."

>The screen returns to display the Puff Skipper for a few seconds, then transitions to her forward chest-embedded cameras.
"Correct. Data indicates spheroid skippers consume small amounts of vegetable matter, mostly algae and kelp. Addendum: spheroid skills can survive outside of salt water for months on end."

>Turning once more to view the pair of silhouettes, Wild's electronic voice becomes monotone.
"Optimal time for complete restoration: ninety-six hours, thirty minutes. Optimal time to fully restore primary and secondary hull: five hours fifty seconds. Speed of unknown Construct models.. twenty-six point three kilometers per hour. Calcu-"
>Cutting herself off as large numbers of much spheres begin to surround the larger pair, the mini-Eldritch android reappears on screen, her sensory antennae angrily twitching.
"Large Constructs have deployed fifty smaller variants each. Option one: I will attempt to shut down all unnecessary systems to 'play dead'. Option two: egress deeper into the ocean. Option three: attempt to disengage and head west at maximum speed. Option four: ..attempt to surrender. What are your orders, mom?"
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349319
>>349318
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #1
[[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #2
[[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #3
[[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #4
[[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #5
[[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #7
[[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #8
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349320
349321
>>349314
>Making what looked like a dismayed expression, the Neighpon mare's ears pin back on her skull briefly.
"Am of trade beds to ponies often most, trinkets too. Spirits not be same time when place stand for trade, must of wait time all come."
>Hoof set down and tapping the other in brief thought, her Rasera's immediately brightens into a cheerful smile.
"Unless want of see trinkets?"
>Pointing towards the largest stack of wrapped wooden boxes in a quick motion.
"Am have some spirit magics here, pony of Equestria see not often!"

>Hearing distinct albeit subdued chatter, a large mixture of mares, with only one stallion interjecting, were discussing levels, foundations, windows, and stairs.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349321
349324
>>349320
>Trinkets?
"What sort of trinkets do you offer?" he curiously inquired, his middling curiosity getting past his sleepy demeanor. "Not to mention the stories they come with them. Perhaps some are from your homeland?"
>Surely he could allow himself to listen to some item listing while the workers were still planning behind him, right?
Bren's Cabin: The Dead Do Not Sleep
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349322
349330
>>349309
"And he LIIIIIVES! At least, I think you're a stallion? Sorry if you aren't, it's hard to tell sometimes between all the beings I have to track down in the crazy Planes."
>Cracking an even wider grin, the long-dead mare offers an archaic styled short bow..
>Which leads to her head disappearing into the ceiling briefly.
>Fascinating, yet a tiny bit disturbing.
"Lime Ruby at your service! Well technically not since I'm also technically on duty but it's not like anypony ever hires me for my name or how fast I travel!"
>Sitting down and back far enough to clop her hooves together, the mare's voice turns eager while her mane and tail billow to the right.
"Great to hear! Cadenza's elixirs were a lot less potent when I was alive so I figured I'd sniff this one out and see what it was for. Looks like she made it recently. Well, recent to me is probably a couple hundred years to be honest!"
>Face creasing in mock hurt, Lime Ruby's muzzle scrunches briefly before giggling.
"That's a little mean! If I wanted to be your foe I'd have put the cake and wine outside, but I'm not supposed to prank others on duty. I'm a delivery mare for the Crystal Kingdom Reservis Conclavia, third biggest depository in the Empire! At least we used to be back during the United Conclaves era, I have no idea what we are now. As for why I woke you up-"
>Nose twitching back and forth, Lime Ruby puts on a totally-not-guilty smile while pointing at.. Andrammalech.
"I've never seen one of you before! Not the human part, you right there! You remind me of those, what were they called? That's right, Heralds from the Old Hegemony, all spikes and bright colors and big muscles! Besides, you looked bored."
>Of course..
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349324
349325
>>349321
>Eyes widening at the (probably expected) answer, Rasera's ears flick about in merry circles.
>Easily interested to trade, clearly.
"Lots! Am to wake spirits have show-"
>Sitting up straight, her left forehoof raises and is pushed forwards, prodding a quickly appearing dull green.. thing that looked like a cross between an iguana on steroids and a scruffy, chubby dog of some sort, barely half her height.
>The creature, or spirit, makes a raspy bark-cackle, all the floating lanterns uncurling into a bewildering variety of small dragons similar to the first, the majority featuring wild hair and mustache styles.
>Some were even clad in armor, albeit paper and cloth versions, and carried a mixture of archaic weapons that wouldn't look out of place in a miniature historical diorama.
>Several of the horde begin assembling an oddly complex bright green bamboo table in front of you, using what looked like wrought iron pins to put it together.
>The remainder float down to pick up a box in their rear claws, drifting towards the table and setting them down with muted clunks, the entire process taking roughly half a minute.
>Carefully unwrapping each and folding the paper or cloth into amusing origami shapes of ponies, Rasera stands up and lankily strides towards the table, beaming a smile as all the spirits return to their original locations.
>They don't turn themselves into lanterns however, merely waiting in silent appraisal.
>Of you or Rasera wasn't obvious.
"All trinket from Neighpon! Some Equestria pony call Japoneighsia too, same of place so no mind. Make of Neighpon pony help by spirits and spirit magics. Marely new, have story not yet."

>Gesturing for you to lean forwards at the, probably, overburdened table, each box contains one of an equally bewildering array of pieces that would fit right into any extremely regal art gallery.
>As you come closer, subtle twinges of energies are apparent.
"Green earth pony of jade trinket is to make strong self, also make safe from bad poison and toxin. Most Neighpon feel jade make self lucky too!"
"Red duck of bright ruby is trinket for make fire magic and fire enchantmarents stronger. Maybe do same of armor?"
"Yellow dragon of tapas.. tipas? ..topaz! Is of trinket for make light-ning on weapon. For of armor it hold and eat light-ning."
"Tiny blue plate of sapphire show home-"
>Which, indeed, had an extremely delicate scribing of a highly comfortable looking archaic Asian styled house surrounded by a pleasant pond view.
"Is trinket of.. how say? To make calm self easy, not fear bad things. Maybe make mean spirit friend if self calm?"
"Angry dragon of purple is trinket for make weapon pierce armor. Spear best.. maybe big arrow like minotaur use?"
"No touch claws of black onyx trinket of Moor cat-"
>Which turns out to be a small figure of an aggressively stanced, hissing bat-winged feline, one paw raised to deliver a set of five sharp claws.
>Hopefully not onto you.
"They sharp! Make starbolt of Void, bad wounds, hard heal of."
"See trinket of bamboo sticks, look like fire of camp, ruby inside? It call: All Place Home, make of friend know more you. Not know if work on not-friend, am sorry."
"White-blue sphere trinket, look like cloud on water make move fast, quiet also. No work in no magic places."
"Big wood dragon-thing curl into ball eyes is trinket of scales. It make of armor very tough, weapon hard pierce!"
>Examining the unusual piece briefly, some artisan had spent weeks, if not much more, carving an exacting Asiatic dragon replica; the overly wide and oiled looking mustache was rather comical however.
>Turning from it to look at the next piece Rasera was gesturing towards, you could almost swear one of the eyes blinks.
"White lamb of stone is trinket of make good sleep, self and friend. Make nightmares go away. Not make Nightmare go away, Luna best friend of tired pony! No work on enemy. ..maybe? Not know."
"In big box bird feathers, lots colors? Put in armor, make pony magic safe of use. Also good keep safe from pony magic, but it not make spirit magics safe. Bird is of come Dominion Plane, place of bad travel for pony."
"Other big box have skull of Blood Horn Wyrm-"
>Peering into the indicated one, it was more a series of interlocking needle-covered bones crudely approximating a skull the size of a basketball.
"It Planar too but not know what Plane, sorry. It no trinket, Do like steal blood: take of life from enemy, make self strong. Equestria pony no like. Old Treaty say make ban, no use some places? Razorback be of Lunar, so not worry."
"Plates of lots metals guide for alchemy, make in Ponishima! Make potions stronger.. but if no read Neighpon then hard of use."
"Cloud on string in shape of hoof is for walk on cloud. Good for visit winged cities. Neighpon pony no like use, be too far for fall."
"Chain of color metals for smith use, link one by one so make shape metal easy."
"Lots color round candies in wrap are make of spirits! It call spirit candy, make heal spirit fast."
>Eyeing the large selection of small jawbreaker sized, mostly transparent spheres, the mare rocks back on her hooves, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.
"Lunars use lots, go village to village for find spirit candy, but Rasera.. think you need more. Am see you human spirit small."

>Leaving the puzzling statemarents for you to ponder, the sable mare glances down at the cloth covering the ground to tap a hoof several times.
"Five.. is right?"
>Tap tap tap tap tap.
"Is right. Cloud is half of thousand Bits. Spirit candy is one of thousand Bits. Trinkets five of thousand Bits. Feathers, skull, plates alchemy, ten of thousand Bits. Chain of smith is..."
>Tapping twenty times, slowly, Rasera glances up to give a pained expression.
"Is number of thousand Bits."
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349325
349334
>>349324
>It would seem Rasera really likes the art of the trade from just hwo excited she's gotten.
>Of course, the man took the opportunity to close the distance and get a better look at the contents, although his wondrous glances at the origami ponies were sporadically taking him away from the main show.
(Papelitos voladores, hehehe.)

>Out of all the selection of trinkets, Gallo found himself drawn to the enduring jade, the cloud walking trinket, the miniature sapphire home symbol and candies yet held himself from actually doing anything, partly mesmerized by all the opportunities and colors.
>However, when Rasera disclosed the prices for everything she had presented to him, José soon discovered that he had no such thing as these Bits she spoke of.
>In fact, he didn't even have seemingly useful stuff to barter with at first glance.
>However, this may be a good time to figure out what Japoneighse mares like herself would want out of a common Razorback customer, so he might as well test the waters while he could.
>Maybe he can find an untapped need, desire or want most others wouldn't think of?

>The human would lean back a little with a pensive expression as his tired eyes looked back at the trader in front of him.
"What other payments do you usually accept with customers like myself?" he inquired so at the very least he could engage in Rasera's obvious passion. "Surely bits alone are not your only goal."
Mallia Castella
cbde04e
?
No.349328
349338
>>349230

>Mallia's glance scanned the room, perceiving as much as possible while sating her gut-instinct driven paranoia to ensure the area still remained relatively safe to be in, visor lighting as she goes between visor modes briefly while information is fed to her by the Inquisitor's team.
>At the same time, she wried her lip a little as she hears Witch-Two's response. A feeling of unease may be perceived in her somewhat extended silence, both mental and verbal...

>Though her gaze quarter-turned back towards Nasiksta after her question, though The Enginseer is weirdly still.
>Unbeknowst to the girl, she was being spoken to by Adronal. And she flinches a little from what she was receiving, looking upward for a good second.
>Her mechadendrite seeming to fidget near her arm, tapping lightly against the surface of the crimson shield she was holding...
>Tink-tink, tink, tink-tink, tink...

"Eh... Hmm..."
(Understood...! We're leaving then.)

>She turns directly to Nasiskta somewhat hastily. While also lifting her shield a bit more, visibly glancing around a few times. Slapping her hand on the surface of the dial again before letting her hand return to her flank.
"... I have a few ideas! But right now I say we leave these alone."
"Hooold on juust a sec'."
>She starts turning herself towards the exit, poised to start walking back the way they came. And that's when she goes very still and quiet again, stopped mid-motion of turning around.
>Taking a step back from the lockbox she had been examining, her mechadendrite whirrs and clicks as it returned to her back, folding in on itself. Then she completes the turning motion, glance still towards Nasiksta.
"... We are being ordered to evacuate back now, looks like. A pony came here before us, who may still be nearby, who my machines say is muuuch~ stronger than us."
"Let's get out of here, Nasiksta. Let's run for it, actually."
>Her voice stays low, trepidant and worried. She tilts her head a bit and looks up again as if expecting something to be up on the ceiling.
>Surely nothing angry is going to fly down on them and attack them, right? Right?

*"Solid copy, we're moving back now stormtrooper."*

>Mallia nods towards the entrance and beckons her only escort. A protective reflex urging her to step close to Nasiksta's side so they may go together in a close side-by-side formation, before beginning to quickly start up into a jog.
>She doesn't draw her laspistol again as she goes. Instead she kept that hand more on her shield.
>And once Mallia felt confident about Nasiksta's pace, she begins to progressively speed up into a run. Opting to get back out of the vault as quickly as possible. But also keeping her eyes up and focusing on her hearing for a sighting of this unknown equine. Just in case.

[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <B. Perception + BQ.Preysense visor
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6 = 5] <B. Sprint
[1d6 = 2]
The Ruby and the Wroth
Indurian
!!yTO.NMjpuo
571c39f
?
No.349330
349343
>>349322
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cC_jkB9xT6U
>Indurian tries and fails to repress a snort of laughter, watching Ruby's head dip into the cabin's ceiling, but looks on with an expression of puzzled bemusement as the strange mare explains themselves
"Verily, I am a 'stallion' as thou sayest. Well met, Lady Ruby."
>Slowly, the knight lifts himself off of the couch with a slight groan, stretching his arms as if testing them out before finally managing a slight but definite bow in the direction of Lime Ruby
"As thou may know already, I am one called Indurian, a knight of Ivalice, and yet..."
>Indurian's glacial, blue eyes glint in the low light as he meets the gaze of this odd house guest.
"If it be as thou sayest, thou art not here to call upon me, but instead..."
>Slowly, deliberately, the knight closes his eyes, then opens them again, the blue of his eyes being replaced by a deep, crimson red, and there follows a definite shift down in the pitch of his voice as Andrammelech continues:
["Thou art here to visit with me?"]
>Indurian, with the voice of Andra, slowly moves about the room, eyes scanning the space in a disinterested sort of way
["It is strange - you speak of Cadenza as though you knew her of old. You speak of traversing the Planes as though you think such a thing a merry little jaunt..."]
>Finally spotting the aforementioned cake and wine, Indurian makes his way over to it, picking up the wine bottle and examining it, still not meeting Ruby's eyes
["...you speak of time as though you have lived many centuries, or perhaps that centuries ago you lived, and now exist somewhere between this life and the veil. You speak of organizations either long since deceased or greatly diminished in the present day."]
>Finally, Indurian puts the bottle back on the table and locks eyes with Ruby once again
["All that you have said gives one an impression of great power and advanced age."]
>Indurian hitches a slight grin on his face as he continues
["In that, I will say, you and I may have something in common. I am called Andrammelech, the Spirit of Wroth. Or at least, that was what I have been called, and so I call myself. Now..."]
>Indurian breaks eye contact, this time examining the cake
["You were correct in saying that I have been very bored of late - this weakness of this human form is at times debilitating. However, it sounds as though once again, you and I are of the same mind. Tell me, was it truly simple curiosity that drove you here this night, or have you perhaps come with a message?"]
Ivan the Stalker
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349331
349344
>>349315
"Okay so a magic thing."
>Definitely out of his league, by more than just a long shot.
>The mention of black moss caught his attention, but briefly.
"We uh, don't like our moss back in the Zone. It chemically burns you if you move through it quickly. Certain tunnels have to be moved through in a crawl or else you'd get hurt."
>"Not to mention the fucking tunnel full of electro anomalies AND burnt fuzz."

>Shaking his head, he listened to her explanation.
"That... Sounds a bit similar to the Zone. It used to be controlled by a group of scientists who got into some sort of pods, I've heard. Some STALKER named Strelok killed them all."
>A brief pause to recall.
"Not powered by crystals though. The closest thing I can think of is the Wish Granter."
>With a shrug, he motioned towards them.
"A new pair of minds could always help out, look at things from a new angle."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349332
349347
>>349318
>"Well at least she's considerate of someone who's not fully educated."
>The display actually helped me quite a lot, being able to properly figure out what was damaged or just destroyed, more than her trying to explain it to a college student.
"Okay, I think I got it."
>Thankfully she can multitask.

>Oh no.
>We can't even fix basic systems in two minutes.
>Sighing, I hold my nose for a moment, trying to recall anything about these Constructs.
"We're not going to find much else in the ocean before they're over us, and I'm fairly certain they wouldn't accept a surrender. Playing dead might get us a few seconds, or they might make sure we are."
>Shaking my head, I looked down at the puff.
"We'll attempt to disengage and head west. Hopefully you'll be able to evade them."
>I could only hope I didn't just kill us.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349334
349339
>>349325
>Finding a short enough stack of futons to comfortably sit on, the sable mare squints upwards before motioning at one of the spirits to flit down.
>This one's weapon was a small roll of coins held together by paper string, which it unwraps to set each one, then a small aquamarine, on the table.
"Germaneigh Ear-Marks, Dragonspine Fangs, Gryphon Claws, Hegemony Hoofstamps, Crystal Gemcoins, Rushyan Snootles, Argenta Patsos, and gems!"
>None of which you'd heard of except for the last one.
>Ears flicking merrily at the last one, Rasera shifts to partially face you, head tilting in thought.
"Gem easy trade, coins heavy. Am also trade for trinket, good weapons, armors not of Neighpon. Lots collect fun Equestria ones.. if safe, no take ban ones. Why human castle no have trader?"
Imminent Retrieval: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349338
349399
>>349328
>Removing her hand from the dial with a stiff frown, Nashka's head rotates to view the lines of stacked safes while muttering.
"Two hour for one lock, twenty-four hour day, five thousand safe be.. three year open all for one? So much time-"
>Head snapping back onto you, the girl blinks in surprise, hefting her weapon up into low ready.
"But we clear city three hour ago, find nothing, not even pony track!"
>Performing a rapid equipment check and breaking into a jog to follow you, Nasiksta swears a series of profoundly unholy words aloud.
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <B.Perception
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <B.Sprint
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]

>None of the quartet respond as you turn, their attentions focused solely on rapidly cross-referencing energy indexes against known Tallus and Planar elements.
>Dashing towards the warped portal entrance, in the visor's view you note each and every safe contained at least one pulsing signature, some of which gave off the distinct emanations of hot objects.
>Others however were consistent with micro-plasma reactors on standby or active, while one was directly equivalent to the strange Construct's heat source.
>This was less a storage facility and more of a decommissioned Reliquary for dangerous items.
>Possibly even xenotech!

*"Conducting sweep now. Commissar taking command-"*
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Commissar: E.Leadership
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
Cheto
!!I8slZdKQ5.
685e4f2
?
No.349339
349349
>>349334
>José nodded along as Rasera recited the other possible currencies available, subtly leaning forwards in rapt attention.
>If he was able, he would carefully extend an arm out to properly inspect the various coins presented to him to see exactly what they looked like, but not actually touching it unless the mare in front of him gave some sort of consent.
>An amused little chuckle escaped his lips particularly when he inspected the patsos, faintly feeling nostalgic all of a sudden.
"So you prefer to trade in gems and non-neighponese equipment," he surmised out loud at no one in particular.

>Softly rubbing an eye with his other hand, he soon fixated his attention on the mare proper, giving her a small shrug.
"I figured you'd know that yourself by now," he honestly answered with a small smile. "You seem to have settled down here for a while, miss Rasera."
Bren's Cabin: The Dead Do Not Sleep
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349343
349351
>>349330
>Lime Ruby's eyes glitter interestedly.
"Knight Indurian from Ivalice? My pleasure to meet you! You must be Otherworldly like the other humans I've seen. Only place I know that sounds similar is Perilace, some big castle in the Dominion Plane."
>Blinking in mild surprise, the dead mare uses her right leg to perform the equine form of an 'I'm honored' motion.
"At least for a bit, if you don't mind! And yes, I've known Princess Cadenza for about six thousand years, give or take a couple thousand. As for traveling the Planes there's only a few I don't like going to, most everything there is a real downer."

>Finding a covered slice of chocolate cake inside a glass bowl on the short dresser, it was accompanied by an ice gold Crystal empire bottle.
>The peach symbol on front was a bit too cutesy for something alcoholic.

"And none of them have a party life!"
>Snickering at her joke, Lime's eyebrows raise in brief surprise, lowering as both forehooves wave back and forth in negative motions.
"Oh no no no no, I'm not all that strong! Even being a ghost, I'm just really old and I don't go crazy like most do. Only maybe-powerful thing I can do is use two Crystal Runes at the same time.. does that count?"
>Leaning forwards to squint down, she nods slowly while her lips move, probably trying to memorize the unusual name.
"You do share a pretty good resemblance with the old minotaurs, the whole name first and title bit. I like it, sounds like you've got a lot of stories to tell! Pretty hard to say though-"
>Returning to her seated pose, Lime Ruby lifts a hoof to 'itch' her snout, her ears making large circles.
"I understand, ennui and all that was depressing, least until I made new friends. Then again there's really nothing even close to eating good food, sleeping with my herd, sitting around a bunch of lavadrops.. I do miss those sometimes."
>Nose twitching once, an actually guilty grin spreads across her face.
"Okay, you caught me. I did come here to deliver a message, but, well, not to you. I wanted to see what one of Cadenza's elixirs was doing to a.. well, the body you're in. Fun fact-"
>Standing up and making the tiniest of a jump, Lime Ruby twists about in the air, landing on the bed without making a sound.
>Or even moving the blankets.
"Cady makes the most potent elixirs of the Five Sisters! There's a catch though: most Crystal ponies refuse to take one because we'd rather be interred. Why? Healing from lethal injuries takes an incredibly long time and ponies hate using resources that should go to those that have a higher chance of recovering. Also there's InterPonies in the Labyrinth."
>Brushing back the awkwardly long mane and flicking her tail to keep it inside the room, the dead mare rather politely sniffs towards you.
"From what I can tell the one you took is much stronger than the ones she made during Conclave times. You tasting, smelling, or hearing anything out of the ordinary?"
Razorback Fortress: Underground Tunnels
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349344
349346
>>349331
"There's anomalies like that around the Scars, they're less dangerous than most. Only ones that really like studying and retrieving objects are Pathfinders from the Canterlot Underground, and-"
>Bushy eyebrows cocking at you, the Lunarite puzzles a thought, possibly even two, in her head before snorting in exasperation.
"Believe it or not, some of the Cult have actually gone INTO Scars. A few've talked about Eldritch creatures, demigods, weirder stuff inhabiting some of them. They don't even pay attention to ponies, well, unless said ponies are hostile."
>Ears rotating forwards to try and pick up what the unicorns were speaking, the mare gives up and swings her rear end southwards to make room.
"Sounds like Construct nonsense to me, pods and all. I don't recognize that name.. except there are a couple batponies Torven used to trade with. Right, one's called Rail Lock. Real weird stallion, swears up and down he knows how Constructs work. Can't remember the others, sorry. Still, if any what I've said is familiar you should head to the Basin and go to that restaurant, the one where they actually cook food instead of just serve raw stuff. There's always a group or two exploring nearby Scars."
>Peering at you with the face of a batpony that's just discovered pineapple, the unnamed mare grins.
"So Wish Granters exist on human worlds, huh? Now that'd be real useful. I know where one is, an old Harpy statue in the middle of nowhere, but it broke down a couple hundred years ago and nopony knows how to repair it."

"That would be the understatement, and understatemarent, of this year, Ivan."
>Came Hodch's unusually ragged voice, accompanied by the sound of a broom and dustpan being used.
>Denra speaks up over the crunching with a .
"Really, Hodch? Ivan and.. sorry I do not know your name-"
"Whiplash Vines. No relation to the earth pony Vine families."
"Er.. of course. It's good to meet another level-headed Lunar. So, Whiplash, Ivan, come in and take a look at this.. absolute mess if you like."

>Shooting you an 'I'm off duty but this sounds fun' look, the oddly named batpony carefully steps through the illusory wall.
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Eee~Perception
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349346
349358
>>349344
>Ivan couldn't help but chuckle at the idea.
"Yeah, we STALKERs do the same. After the event we call a 'blowout' happens, there's a good chance that an anomaly has an artefact or two inside them to be collected."
>He pat at the containers on his belt.
"Of course, its not always, but sometimes they're really useful to have on you."
>He gave a bit of a frown.
"I've heard that it wasn't actually a wish granting device, but a way to lure STALKERs into the clutches of the Monolith, who brainwash them into their ranks. Countless poor souls attempted to get to it before they put up ways to stop us, until Strelok deactivated both of them."

>With a bit of a chuckle, Ivan maneuvered his way in after her once he was certain he wouldn't ram her.
>He didn't exactly expect the occupants of the room to not notice the two.
[1d6 = 4] <Expert Perception
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 6]
Lost in the Crag Moors: A Bigger Problem Than The Last Two
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349347
349348
>>349332
>Sending the four displays to the left side screen, in sight enough for you to keep track of, the ocean view returns once more.
>Sadly without any sea creatures floating around.
>Or perhaps that was a good thing knowing Tallus.
"When I have the time to compose an instruction manual I will make at least ten copies."

"Short range scans detect neither further wrecks or useful materials in a five-hundred meter radius-"
>Thankfully not shouting or panicking, Wild's interior cabin shifts several degrees as she hefts the large whatever-it-is up onto her left shoulder, some of her internals creaking at the weight.
"I'd rather not leave anything here in the event that Constructs attempt to salvage but I will mark it on my interface for you. Final report: nine-point-one tons of high value, forty-nine tons of medium value, and approximately eighty tons of low value salvage remain. Tagging location for recovery and burial of unknowns at later date-"
>The map returns to take up the screen, a bright green circle of the current location highlighted.
"Understood. Priority One changed, disengaging and evacuating. Update: motive and drive units repaired to forty percent, I am still unable to do more than walk."
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #8

>Physically turning, albeit with great effort, the central cabin rumbles while the view shifts to dead still waters.
"I doubt the Constructs have detected my arrays so far, initiating medium range scans-"
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Arcanum Sensor Array
[1d6 = 4] <Damaged Sensory Node #1
[1d6 = 1] <GM.Submerged Nuclear Walk
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6 = 5]
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349348
349359
>>349347
>Even if I was curious as to what was down here aside from wreckage and puff balls, I knew that the ocean wasn't used much for a damn good reason.
>Much scarier creatures here than back on Earth.
>With a grimace, I briefly brace myself as she hefts up the thing, not liking the sounds her insides made.
"That's a good idea. If we get back to Razorback we'd be able to let them know about this stuff."
>If.

"Walking is better than nothing. You're faster than I would be."
>Here's hoping they didn't.
>And I don't need to suddenly have to learn to swim this deep underwater.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349349
349377
>>349339
>Giving a short bow, the dragon-spirit floats backwards from the coin pile, neatly folding the paper wrapper into a trotting pegasus.
>The first one is a solid, hefty gold coin in.. a language that you couldn't read, although the prominent '10' and pair of equine ears, covered in what looked like wire mesh, on both sides gave it the appearance of either some obscure injoke or simply a way to make the coin stand out more.
>The second is a lighter silver coin covered in scratch-like runes having no similarity to any language you know; a small, highly curved fang was stamped next to a '5' on the surface.
>Third is a another silver coin of the same size as the previous two, the few arcane looking yet tasteful runes on the surface flanking the image of five claws in sequence, also having a '5' stamped next to them.
>Larger than the others, the fourth is an abnormally heavy piece, the imprint of a large hoof, on both sides, in a U-shape taking up most of the space while a '100' is barely legible in the center.
>Unlike the previous ones, the fifth is a lightweight, semi-transparent coin, most likely made from quartz with the number '20' raised above the surface, somewhat faded from wear given the rounded indentations, yet still easily legible.
>The sixth is a brutal looking gold coin, larger than the first, stamped with a rendition of a heavily armored earth pony performing an impressive salute, the leg bending at an obscene angle to do so; underneath that was '200' without any further markings.
>The seventh was instantly familiar to you: the few scripts of heavily Spanish were impressive, the flowing letters making up a legible sentence of 'Argenta, Our Princess Eternal', stamped around the edges of a smiling, saluting pegasus mare whom had a long, spiraling horn.
>Which, you realize, you didn't even need to translate.
>Under the pony was a slightly right-leaning '500' stamp.

>Taking on a speculative expression, Rasera's face creases in what looked like apology, right forehoof lifting and pressing on her chest.
"No, have not meet of Razorback trader or traders yet. Come here to make of human sleep in forest safe. Rasera welcomed to of stay, then trade with ponies lots! All pony come test beds, ponies trade marely Bits and gems for-"
>Tapping eight times on the floor.
"Hours. No trade trinket yet so Rasera make retire for wait on spirits."
>Gesturing to the shorter stacks of futons, which she was calling beds, it was clear that ponies had bought a significant number since she'd been in the Fortress.
>However long she'd been here, though, wasn't clear.
"Am of not need food, drink, spirits bring Rasera what Rasera need."
The Ruby and the Wroth, Part Two
Indurian
!!yTO.NMjpuo
571c39f
?
No.349351
349361
>>349343
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-xRmyfRrF3o
>The knight lifts the bottle of fancy peach 'wine' from its resting place, uncorking it and taking a hearty swig
["Well, I cannot say for certain, as I do not necessarily share this body's sense of taste or smell at all times; this, I typically leave in the capable hands of my erstwhile companion, Indurian, and yet..."]
>Despite the daemonic possession, Andra cannot help but taste the delicious beverage within
>He holds the bottle now askance, examining its label more closely in the dim light of the cabin
["...I know enough to be able to recognize fine craftsmareship when I see it."]
>Indurian moves about the space, taking a seat on the bed opposite Lime Ruby, still holding the gifted bottle of peach wine
["So far as my connection to this body allows, I cannot detect any missing faculties. It would appear that this human's body has made a full recovery - a living testament to the apparently improved skills of this, 'Cady,' of which you speak."]
>The knight takes an idle swig of the wine as Andrammelech continues
["As for tales or stories, I have none to tell, nor do I take any relish in the telling. I am a spirit of vengeance, not of heraldry or lorekeeping. The best that I could offer you would be a re-telling of every victory or conquest I have experienced. However, my host has a penchent for storytelling, and if it is stories you seek, and a message that you bear, but not for me, than I think it best that I relinquish control back to my host. If you'll excuse me..."]
>As the knight says so, another moment passes where the knight's eyes slowly close, then open again to reveal the glacial blue eyes of the knight Indurian once again
"But my word, this wine of peach is fine, indeed!"
>The knight takes another hearty swig
"So, thou sayest that thou art bearing a missive, but not one intended for my friend? Then It must be for me! Pray tell, what message dost thou bringeth?"
Razorback Underground: Power Control Room
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349358
349365
>>349346
"Funny. That's exactly how treasure hunters and salvagers pull stuff out. Honestly I've never been all that interested in magic, some of it's way scarier than it looks. This 'blowout' thing-"
>Vocally straining to not pun, which was probably hurting her soul, Whiplash trails her claws on both sides of the much more cramped tunnel.
"Is similar to what happens when the big Scars are abandoned by the inhabitant, or plural. Oldest ones have these crazy portals covered in weird shapes and materials. Supposedly they're safe to enter, and I have heard that some of those ones move around, but not all that much. And that.. sucks, no pun intended. Don't know much about brainwashing magic, any of that's been destroyed or banned for a long time now. Almost like the process it takes to make ghouls and zombies though, but I'm certain."
>For once hearing a unicorn not being snide or matter-of-fact, Hodch's subtle tone was approving.
"Might be be surprised to know that your ancestors were the sole users of Necromarecy after Princess Luna taught them, not to mention blood magic, but I would rather not speak of that topic."

>Still spotting nothing out of the ordinary, save for the width decreasing by half, the mare ducks right as you enter an open, dead end room lit by nearly every color.
>The rarely seen Helping Hoof and Denra were standing at the far side, which was less than 5M away, analyzing small chunks of glowing crystals in front of their snouts.
>Finally able to stand up and take a look around, to the left was a large mound of crystal shards, Hodch's horn glowing a subdued purple that was controlling a magical broom and dustpan.
>Eyeing the pieces scattered around you realize they were the same Empire crystal that Naliyna used, and had remarkable resemblance to the woven artificial muscles in your most-finished exoskeleton.

>The entire side wall to the left, south according to your keen sense of direction, was covered in large electrical patterns that looked like a Tesla had finally stopped and expended every joule of energy into the stonework.

>Emptying the magical dustpan into a small storage portal next to him, Hodch's head turns to give you a short, dismal nod.
"Helping Hoof has have confirmed the damage and explosion occurred after the Grand Stormwurm's attack last year. Denra has unfortunately confirmed that Spiral was solely responsible for maintaining the amount of energy necessary for the Fortress to operate, presumably at maximum capability and capacity."
>The overly large brown unicorn next to Denra lifts a hoof to rub his chin, speaking in a moderately annoyed tone.
"The Marquis indeed had the capabilities, reserves, and intricate knowledge to continually empower this great work without causing undue stress. At least, that is what I noted when he summoned me here. When combined both would account for less than a tenth of what eventually drove him mad. There are unknown factors we have not been able to uncover, thus I fear this is simply the beginning of his descent."

"Huuu-uuh..."
>From Whiplash Vines came that obnoxiously curious tone batponies were feared for.
"A Grand Stormwurm did all this? Didn't know they were that powerful."
"Normally not even an ancient variety would be capable of causing a fifth this collective amount of damage. It was presumably empowered through consumption of black iron and blackened steel scavenged fro-"
>Denra's teacher voice was, at the least, not boring you to sleep, but is cut off by the Lunarite.
"I get it, figured that part out in your first sentence. Only problem now is how to replace that thing. I don't have the slightest idea where to start."
Lost in the Crag Moors: A Bigger Problem Than The Last Two
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349359
349426
>>349348
"Agreed. Archiving wreck data and location.. complete. Attempting to reconstruct the original vessel-"
>Overlaying a new image on the left screen, this one becomes the schematic of a large wooden sailing vessel, you note that each of the giant boards making up the exterior hull had been fit with H-shaped beams, presumably metal.
>Eight full decks, not including an unusually rather flat top deck, the six lowest were crammed full of double stacked barrels and boxes.
>The second deck was mostly triple-bunks for standard size pony beds, although a few larger ones were minotaur sized.
>First below deck seemed to be a mixture of kitchens, staging area, what could be a small arena, and more storage.
"Estimated maximum vessel weight empty: three-hundred tons. Estimated maximum vessel cargo weight: two hundred tons. Maximum crew: ....three-hundred twenty."
>Wild's somber tone trails down before the intercom goes silent.

>Picking up speed, the cabin tilts forwards, the Eldritch Android moving at a pace only a few humans could, at least judging by sounds of water lapping at her external plating.
>During and after each heavy bootfall, faint metallic noises could be heard above and to both sides, the formerly sealed shoulder cabins presumably storing all the material Wild was able to fit.
"Update One: nine minutes, thirty seconds until Constructs reach the location I entered the water. Update Two: my current speed is twenty five miles per hour or fifty-five kilometers per hour. Update Three: nitrogen-oxygen filtration system operating at eighty-percent capacity, there is no danger of air running out."
>Tone still somber, only the still-injured cartoon caricature remains, staring at the reconstruction with arms folded.
Bren's Cabin: The Dead Do Not Sleep
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349361
351907
>>349351
>The wine was a sweet, refreshing peach with faint hints of berry and a milk chocolate undertone.
>Mares always liked the weirdest things.

"That's great news! I figured she'd get around to removing of the negatives. Didn't know it'd take half my unlife for that to happen-"
>Cackling merrily at the joke, Lime Ruby's head tilts to give a firmly satisfied nod.
"Princess Cadence is only used formally so most ponies call her Cadenza, Cady, Rebirth, Lovebutt, among others. Back when I was alive there was about twenty or thirty possible things that might happen if somepony had to drink one."
>Forelegs folding around the chest, the dead mare offers a spry smile and a short hoofwave.
"The Heralds were, and kind of still are, warrior-poets. Dunno about vengeance but they sure loved their revenge. And, you take there!"
>Cheeks puffing out in envy at you drink, Lime Ruby's head shakes, the left foreleg held up in apology.
"Uh, eheh, really sorry about that, I got my words mixed up. I was sent here to deliver a message to a human named Thrill, but he won't talk to me and most of the ghosts I met here said not to bother him any more. So, I took the message to his mare, she couldn't see me so I didn't bother her either. Asked the ghosts what was fun to do here and they told me to poke the place for some white pegasus they all dislike. Couldn't find a white pegasus, but I came across the scent of a frost elixir, got curious, followed it.."
>Pointing the free hoof at you, the leg spins around her body in a complete circle.
>Without pausing.
"And now I'm here! Sorry if I'm interrupting, but it's really good to see Cady's alchemy in use."
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349365
349366
a66.jpg
>>349358
"Yeah, its theorized that Blowouts are the 'immune system' response to use STALKERs, happens around once a day now. Ever since Strelok killed the scientists controlling them."
>He frowned and grimaced.
"The ones who die when caught in them are lucky. The ones that get back up..."
>Shuddering, he looked away.

>With a not so subtle groan, Ivan was finally able to get up, popping his back a little as he looked around the room.

>As he listened to Denra, he rubbed at his stubble covered chin.
>He needed to shave, bylat.
"The only thing I would personally be able to offer up is my Sparkler, though I don't know how useful it would be."
>He pulled out the softly glowing blue artefact.
"Its not exactly used for powering things, just for endurance."
Razorback Underground: Power Control Room
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349366
349367
>>349365
>All three unicorns immediately cease what they were doing to give you an appraising look, though Whiplash merely bends down to pick up a shard for a peer, sniff, then a lick.
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Eee~Perception
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
"I thought historical events were bad enough in the Moors. Didn't know human worlds could be as fucked up. I'm half glad you don't have to deal with that any more, but then again you're here now."
>Hodch was visibly fighting his impulses to snap at the Lunarite while Denra was in the process of examining the scorched wall.
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Master Split-Casting: Analysis
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13] <Master Split-Casting: Resonance Detection
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
"Zombies. Always peculiar, yet rarely a danger unless fresh. Or well preserved."

>Settling for saying nothing, Hodch finishes cleaning the remaining shards, the micro-portal closing itself over with a faint popping noise.
"If I may?"
>Taking several steps forwards to inspect the oddity, the deep purple unicorn shakes his head in the negative before giving you a puzzled look.
"Not much judging by the size. But.. it looks as if it should be lightning and not related to increasing physical endurance. What does it do, if I may know the specifics?"

"I will return to the Workshop, there is a large amount of work to be done still."
>Helping Hoof in the meantime offers Whiplash, then you a short nod, teleporting off in a rust-colored cloud.
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349367
349368
>>349366
"Oh from the bit I've heard, it's much worse. Our version of 'eldritch' beings actively want to eat us. Even the mutated rodents."
>He grimaced from the memory of a hoard of little, but sharp claws.
"Always kept a shotgun handy for them."
>With a bit of a headshake, he chuckled.
"Most of us STALKERs are fated to die in the Zone. It's something that's too alluring to want to stay out of forever, with the freedom that it grants us."
>He looked off to the side, a sudden, sad frown on his face.
"If only they were simply mindless creatures. Our zombies are much more horrifying when thought about."

"Of course. I'd be a bit careful though."
>He hands over the glowing artefact.
"It's a common artefact that we call a 'Sparkler'. The user has reduced fatigue while using it, at the cost of being even weaker to any electrical damage that may occur, as well as the artefact itself slowly leaking radiation into them. Luckily this radiation is negligible over short periods of time and can either naturally go away or be removed with strong alcohol."
>Or anything that causes urination, for that matter.
"They come out of electrical anomalies, which is why they look like this. I don't have a clue on how the hell these things are formed, i just know that they're cheap for an artefact. An Ecologist might have more of an idea about their formation."
Razorback Underground: Power Control Room
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349368
349369
>>349367
>Raising an eyebrow at the 'rodents' part, Whiplash Vines freezes from.. something?
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Eee~Primal Senses
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]

"I'm not particularly surprised at that. Roughly one in fifteen human worlds features dangers that are so different as to be considered unique. What concerns me most of this 'Zone' you know is the lethality. One in five, less, more?"
>Sitting down heavily, Denra lifts a hoof, reaching into a tiny gateway for a small cigar and presenting it to Hodch.
"By the way, that power crystal overloaded to the tune of something like a million volts at around four-hundred thousand amps. They're rated to withstand ten thousand volts at two thousand amps, at least, in human terms."
>Likewise taking a seat, except this time on a floating cloud the same color as his coat, Hodch stares at the scorched somberly.
That.. was an incredible amount of energy. Luckily there won't be any more Stormwurms for at least half a year."
>Glancing to you with a knowing gaze, the Starborn reservist takes the cigar, lighting it with a brief click of his tongue.
"I fully understand. There are a few Necromarcy experimarents I can legally speak of, but the worst required complete obliteration of a blacksite using a thousand pound manabomb infused with ten days of mystic acid. Two mile radius. Nothing grew within ten miles for eighty-five or so years. Mass mind control and similar effects are considered a dozen steps above abominable. There's even a clause as a result of joining the Starborn that allows us to overrule any Treaty of Canterlot to destroy such."

>Reaching out to take the object, Hodch immediately regrets his decision:
>Traces of lightning scorch from his hooves up to his neck, forcefully dropping it onto the floor.
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Anomalous Lightning
>Sitting completely still through the shock, Denra cranes his head around to view the other unicorn, partially stunned and unmoving.
"That. Hurts. Like. Little. I. Have. Felt."
>Blinking from the reservist to you, the former diplomat raises an eyebrow before his eyes widen.
"And it apparently hates ponies.. wait, that's it! Both you and that are Otherworldy, it must consider anything not from your world a threat. Hodch-"
"I can hear you.. but do I want to? Not really."
"Thanks, smartass. No, this goes a long way to explaining how humans might be chosen to arrive Tallus! Think about it carefully: selecting the best instance of an at-will potentially deceased during the short time frame ou-"
>Forcefully closing the yellow unicorn's mouth with a band of purple energies, Hodch merely gives him a baleful glower without any force to it, then turns to you with a critical expression.
"Think about that later. For right now- Ivan, that item is a juxtaposition: it appears electrical, at least physically, yet it also stimulates electrical impulses throughout the body. In effect it might be acting as a capacitor, allowing you to function with enhanced capacity, while also functioning as a battery: by allowing you to be harmed more so through electricity it may retain it's 'charge', for lack of a better word, longer. As for the radiation-"
>Glancing down to the streaks marring his hooves and legs, Hodch grimaces.
"Is the general amount emitted lethal in short term, or long term?"
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349369
349370
>>349368
"There's very few people in the Zone that've been around since it was created. Whether it's the Zone itself, the mutants, or other humans, most who enter will find their lives claimed. I'd wager that it's about 95% of STALKERs that eventually die to her."
>Barring the lucky Ecologist, Merc, or military STALKER.
"If only it was mere necromancy, we'd probably be able to elimate the source. Blowouts kill anything caught in them, humans are just the 'lucky' creatures that might get back up, brains completely fried. Some of those that do are unfortunate enough to retain scraps of memories from before. Our zombies still retain bodily motion, if a much lesser degree, and will shoot anyone they see on what is probably a survival instinct."
>He sighs softly.
"It pained me to hear them cry for their mama or daughter when I put them to rest for good."

>Reacting on instinct, Ivan moved himself back and tensed up, eyes glued to the artefact warily.
"That's not happened before."
>He warily leaned down to collect the Sparkler, putting it back into its LLC, before glancing over at Denra.
"Not like I had too much of a choice in coming here. The Zone did claim me, fickle bitch she is."
>He hummed for a moment as he pat at the box, drumming his fingers idly.
"For a touch like you got? Those electrical burns are more of a threat to you than the radiation. Taking a leak or two'll pass it through your system harmlessly."
>He shrugged.
"Being an alcoholic is a bonus when working with low grade artefacts, you'll piss away the radiation faster than you take it in, more often than not. The broken down vehicles give out more than this if you stand next to one."
Razorback Underground: Power Control Room
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349370
349375
>>349369
"Nineteen to one? That's.. the same number it takes to bring down Constructs most times. Sounds like your Zone learned from the Rift."
>Returning to the conversation after her epiphany, Whiplash tosses the crystal on the floor with a dim tone.
"A near-complete memory wipe? That's.. goddesses, how insane and cruel can one be? It's good you took care of them Ivan. Even the worst Spectrals don't deserve to suffer like that."

"Don't allow ponies to touch anything of your artifacts without extreme safeguards and risk preventative measures.
>Giving the slightest frown possible, Hodch keeps his awkward position while studying the Sparkler in malice.
"I'm loathe to make a comparison to the Rift, but I do agree. Most Constructs have the capacity to kill swiftly rather than allowing one to bleed out, or worse, die from infection."
>Eyes rotating to Denra, then back onto you quickly, the purple unicorn can only sigh in pain.
"Intriguing but not entirely useful, human radiation does not occur here. I'm of the opinion that alcoholism can save lives, albeit specific ones. I'll be sure to get shitfaced during transport. For right now I'm going to complete what I was doing before you called me down here, Denra-"

>Phasing from reality and leaving the imprint of a dull red cloud behind, Denra's gaze turns from the Sparkler to Whiplash.
"May I ask what you were doing?"
"Yeah, I just remember something: I might know where to find something like a power crystal. A huge one."
"Wait, wh-"
"Hold on! I know ABOUT where it might but, but didn't say how to get in. You know how most pegasi cloud cities have those.. what are they called?"
"Float cores. Go on?"
"Right. There's an old one in the upper Hegemony mountains called.. High Guards Keep, or something like that. Whole area was ignored because the mountains it sat between were attracting wild clouds. Big nasty ones, the sort that turned entire peaks into glass. Had to be extensively modified to collect and use the lightning, also made the place real safe."
>Returning Denra's pensive gaze with a miffed wave of her claws to cut him off, the Lunarite's ears flatten outwards.
"It's a possibility, unicorn, not a probability. Place was abandoned before or after the Late Dynasty started. Could still be there, could be ruins, could be corrupted. I don't know, and I don't know anypony that does. Early on it might have been picked over a bit by minotaurs though they wouldn't have any use for a float core, they like being on the ground. If you want to look into it go ahead, but you'll have to either go to Gozka or find a pegasus descended from that region."
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349375
349378
>>349370
"Monolith are worse, arguably. They lose their memories as well but are almost irreversibly brainwashed to protect the inner Zone from intruders. What makes them so deadly is that not only do they lose the feeling of pain, they'll do their best to die with a grenade ready to go off. Looting one of them is a dangerous idea. Zombies are just there. Monolith become religious fanatics that worship the Zone."
>Memories of assaulting the CPP flash through his mind, that he quickly shoves back down.

"From your reaction I don't plan on it unless it's life or death."
>He took a squat to idly inspect the burns on Hodch.
"The only things that'll take their time with someone would be bandits, mercs, or a Chimera if it's spiteful. Everything else quickly kills."
>He pauses.
"Aside from a Vortex or Whirligig anomaly. I was... unfortunate enough to fall victim to the former."
>He grimaced.
"While quick, it certainly felt like a lifetime before I was turned into a couple chunks."
>His limbs suddenly ached from the memory of the last moments of his previous life.

>Ivan snapped out of his thoughts to pay attention to the two, listening closely as they talked.
"Well, a possibility is better than what there was before, eh?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349376
349380
>>349311
>He'd readily return the nod, relaxing his posture a little.
>"Serious enough to drop the puns."
"Even if I'm not here, somebody'll be able to show them around. Thank you."
>His arm twitched to fully mirror her salute, but he caught himself to bring his hand up to his brow instead.
>Improper for him to salute as a party member at the moment, after all.
"Good luck back in Germaneigh."

>Focusing back on Naliyna, Bubba simply took a step away from the rage fueled mare, watching as she attempted to damage the table.
>To him, it was obvious the table won.
"Well, that was eventful."
>He'd mutter once she disappeared, shaking his head.
Cheto
!!I8slZdKQ5.
685e4f2
?
No.349377
349383
>>349349
>Presuming these values were the usual amounts given out to Rasera specifically, Gallo soon figured they seemed to imply that the cultures belonging to the Ear-marks, Fangs and Claws had solid economies.
>A good thing to know when seeking out potential trade partners for his diplomat profession.
>However, his curiosity urged him to keep all of them in mind to guess what sort of societies they were
>Specially the Patsos that he could easily read like he was some sort of native speaker.
(Argenta... I wonder how well she's doing in her princessdom.)

>Something caught Gallo's interest as Rasera explained her past experiences, giving an intrigued raised eyebrow.
"So you've come to sell your beds to ponies first and foremost?" he inquired with an interested nod. "You haven't had the opportunity to mass produce beddings more suited to humans yet?"
>It was some rather disheartening news, all things considered.
>It meant he had to go out of his way to possibly contract some sort of bed making factory or whatever Tallus equivalent there was for his standards.
>No wonder humans out here looked grumpier than he remembered
"Do you know who makes the beds you sell?" he promptly questioned in kind, wondering if there was a way to contact them.
Razorback Underground: Power Control Room
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349378
349381
>>349375
"Just li-"
"Just li-"
>Hodch and Whiplash slowly turn to give each other a deeply haunted, thousand-yard stare.
>Despite their Lunar affiliation, both of them looked less Freedom and more like Duty that had just survived an Emission, alone.
>At least they didn't have pet bears or hate vodka.
"The more I hear about human worlds... the less I want to sleep."
"Can we talk about anything else that won't cause flashbacks. Please."
>That was less a question and more survivor's guilt speaking from the batpony.
>Before now you barely knew they could have empathy, aside from the one that normally hung around Jeff.
>Or her daughter, though one always had to be wary of the fuzzy orange filly's pranks.

"Not even then. Don't allow a single pony to do more than look at one, Ivan-"
>Studying the flashburns before he disappears, Hodch was definitely going to be scarred, although it looked like he'd heal.
>Just not mentally.

>Removing their brain cell contact, Whiplash speaks first, not without wincing.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I've heard but didn't really think about the fact that most humans.. die to get here. I take it those were air elemarental anomalies, tears apart most anything that goes into 'em? I know of few, maybe twenty in a couple cities the Planar Harpies used to inhabit. Some of the weirdest technology and defenses, the sort of stuff mad scientists and science fiction writers dream up. Not like Construct or Dominion plane bad, mostly lethal and real short ranged."

>Looking up from a slumped position, the unicorn diplomat waves a hoof in what was probably a small amount of hope.
"Depending on the risks and whether or not a float core like that could be integrated.. it's a-"
>Cutting off the batmare before she could speak.
"Possibility, I know. Tonight, though, there's no way enough humans and ponies could even attempt going to.. wherever-"
"High Guards Keep. I think."
"That place. Unless, you're willing to hire some marecenaries. The Arcane Blades are reasonable and fairly effective for the cost."
"Are they?"
"Compared to Zigri or Sweet? I'd rather take the Blades than deal with the sulking black bastard or that damned monster."
"I guess. Zigri isn't all that ba- what am I saying? Yeah, I agree, but Sweet's not that horrible once you know how to make her be less creepy. How about it Ivan, want to hire some ponies to go out and do something real dangerous?"
Razorback Fortress: Old-New Arrivals
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349380
349416
>>349376
>Silence.
>Shanis? Not around to pester with questions, or make bizarre offers to 'deal with something' at Tartarus Isle.
>Zigri? Wasn't around making an ass of himself or snapping at everything he thought was unnatural.
>Sweet? She probably wouldn't show up.. ever again.
>Tipper? Nowhere in sight.
>Hodch? Probably off doing whatever shady business he normally did.
>Twisted Wing? Long gone.
>There wasn't even a Night Guard, Lunar Guard, Arcane Blade, or Tartarus marecenary strolling around.
>The two DJ's? Not a single radio transmission since you'd been here.

>For once: the silence was gratifying.

>That is until one of the strangest gateways, neon red-orange-green in a roiling boil opens up, depositing a trio of outdated, and worse yet, injured humans.
>A dated German sniper in thick winter clothing and a large snow painted backpack was first, the left hand clutching a scoped Karabiner 98, the right held up and across his chest in an oversized sling.
>Besides the spiked helmet, also painted white, the man's haggard, weather-bitten face was well outside recruiting age, though had the air of a professional death-from-afar hollow blue eyes.
>Second and in worse shape was a shorter young male, barely in his early 20's, a rather damaged MP40 slung on his side, the ghillie-like facemask doing little to disguise a disbelieving stare.
>The woodland camo wasn't quite right as it was much brighter in coloration than normal, and several drying blood stains cover the arms, likely not his own, were indicative of conflict occurring a shot time ago.
>Turning halfway to take hold of an even more bizarre sight, the last was a young female that would fit right in with an ancient Saxon city image:
>Nearly a head shorter than the sniper, the shock of peach-blonde hair and amber eyes was concerning, as was the woven brigandine upper armor punctured in at least ten locations which had to have been, at one time, a bright white.
>Slung over the right shoulder was a somewhat sophisticated steel spear, the edges chipped across its length, a short bearded axe kept on a thick leather belt underneath it, while the remains of a mostly destroyed round shield dangles from a useless left arm.

>Quickly glancing from you to the other two, the sniper speaks first in a raspy, harsh tone that was more EurAsian as the shield clatters onto the pagoda's floor.
"These two require immediate treatment before they bleed out. And shut up Anthelm, you will be second in line."
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349381
349384
>>349378
>Ivan recognized those looks anywhere, even on a non-human face.
>He often saw it in a mirror when allowed to be sober for long enough.
"That would be best."
>He withdrew a small bottle of vodka from one of his many pouches, for use in brief artefact handling, unscrewing the cap.

>"Probably for the best. I don't want to know what a gravitational artefact would do to a pony."

>He let out a small sigh as he quickly went through the bottle, grimacing as his throat briefly burned from the drink.
"Gravitational anomaly. A Vortex will drag whatever gets caught in it up into the air if they're not able to immediately escape. Gets compressed into a small lump before violently detonated by the force of it decompressing."
>Of course, by that time most creatures are dead from being turned into something the size of a pizza box.

>He hummed and leaned back a bit, before rocking idly on his feet.
"Might as well, I've got nothing better to do once I find someone to order custom armor from."
>He really wanted an exoskeleton.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349383
349385
>>349377
>Whistling at one of the floating dragon-spirits, a flashy yellow and blue streaked one holding a white scroll descends to Rasera.
>Gazing at the unfolded page for five seconds, the sable mare gives a nod in your direction.
"Am of trade only to pony tonight yes. No human have of come to here before you."
>Face slackening in sudden realization at the second question, she lifts both forehooves to cover an embarrassed face.
>Which only serves to amuse the dragon in front of her, chortling in an aery whistling tone while rolling up the scroll before returning to its original location.
"Am come of Equestria for trade pony beds and trinkets, not think of for human."
>Lowering one hoof, then the other in quick succession, her visage brightens once more.
"Cavalier clan of make all bed Rasera trade! Big clan of.."
>Trailing off to rapidly tap the covered ground again, this time around sixty.
"That marely. Small and old clan ponies make, lots fun of them. Young and middle ponies-"
>Pointing at herself with a faintly proud smile.
"Am of trade, fight, herd, or spirit magics. Am trade and have tiny spirit magics too, but no of good others."
>Turning to look at the giant futon, which was at least a queen sized bed for humans, she makes a short nodding motion towards it.
"Is of size for human sleep?"
Razorback Underground: Power Control Room
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349384
349393
>>349381
>Quietly shaking off a shiver that visibly rippled her coat, Whiplash motions her right set of wingclaws at Denra several times.
>Who immediately gives the Lunarite a blank look.
>Eyes rolling in aggrieved slowness, one claw flicks from him to the bottle then back.
"Sure, here-"
>Reaching into yet another small micro-portal, the diplomat hoofs her one of Razorback's "vodka specials" before giving you a mortified expression.
"Most ponies call gravity by the name 'Force' for.. obvious reasons. There are anomalies in the Deep Moors similar to what you describe, though they tend to be in relatively calm locations and, from what little I know, not that lethal. They might be able to break a large softwood stick, but not a rock, and certainly not do.. what you stated."
>Not even bothering to check on the batpony guzzling down the start of a hangover, Denra's mouth opens to say something, then closes, opening again to emit a tired chuckle.
"You didn't see it in the Workshop? Big bomb suit thing, plated, giant sign above with your name on it? Krinza, Helping Hoof, and Lann worked on it for a few hours, at least until I interrupted the first two after coming back.. here."
>Still in mute recollection for a split-second, the yellow unicorn heaves himself up only to hiss at something in his rear leg snapping back into place.
"Celestia's teats that bloody hurts! If you don't already know there's always a few marecenary request forms from Shanis. Not much to say other than write your name, the location you want scouted, what you want done, any threats you know about. Naliyna will handle paymarent after the mission's complete. As for me I'm going to turn in. I'm two damned operations in and barely staying awake."
Cheto
!!I8slZdKQ5.
685e4f2
?
No.349385
349386
>>349383
>José couldn't contain the small endeared smile as Rasera covered her face in embarrassment, soon leading him to cover it slightly with a hand to avoid further unintentional teasing from his end before she recovered in kind

>He soon refocused back on the conversation at hand, giving her a couple of nods as she divulged the bedmakers' clan name.
"So you're from the Cavalier Clan, whose economically active workponies are mostly composed by traders like you?" he attempted to confirm, just to make sure they were both on the same page. "Essentially you're part of the clan business model?"

>With the following answer provided, Gallo would glance back at the giant futon with a pensive look before looking down at himself to see his current hygiene status.
"Perhaps," he mused softly with a nod "but the best way to make sure is by trying. May I test it out to confirm it?"
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349386
349387
>>349385
"Yes, but no dishonor for be trader. Am bad in fight, ask them!"
>Rasera's attention shifts form you to several of the dragon-spirits, all of which immediately performing synchronized chortles.
>Wasn't exactly a yes, but close enough.
>Opening her mouth, she pauses briefly, head tilting and speaking in deliberate, slow thoughtfulness.
"Not.. of business, no? Trade is of trinkets to pony for use, sell, trade bed for pony use. Is how say, if Rasera take coin or gem, coin or gem go around world too, soon or late. Business wrong, take advantage bad. Know what mean?"
>A stable, highly cyclical economy with heavy competition was apparently the Tallus norm.

>Silently eyeing the spirits, the majority of them nod in short order, the other few shrugging disinterestedly.
>Satisfied at the answers, and lack thereof, Rasera waves you towards it.
"Say they do try!"
>Making your way to the large bed, your initial appraisal of it was impressive: only one seam was visible in a long ring around the center, and no material was bunched up or flattened out of place.
>Putting a hand down the material was an extremely fine, soft cotton and silk blend.
>Of course, it needed to be fully tested to ensure the quality was worth.. whatever the price could be.
Cheto
!!I8slZdKQ5.
685e4f2
?
No.349387
349418
>>349386
>Once again, the man rubbed his mouth a little to hide the little amused smile from the dragon snickering when confirming Rasera's lack of fighting capabilities
"Didn't mean to imply otherwise," he promptly reassured her
>As for the second response, the man nodded as he made sure not to use words like business models due to their apparently inherent anti-communalist undertones.
>José felt this was probably going to cause problems at a later date if he wasn't careful, no doubt.
>Specially when dealing with Solar-based economies

>It took Cheto a rather substantial amount of willpwer not to flop into the futon at the mere touch of its silky smooth, cotton based material.
(Don't be brutish... It's an abhorrent first impression.)
>With a studious eye, the man carefully proceeded to remove the outermost layer of clothing to ensure his testing would not even come close to staining the marvelous bed
>First his cap, followed by the bandana hanging from his neck, the stuffed backpack, the clinking bandoleer, the less noisy pouch strapped to his leg, his warm red jacket and his footwear.
>All were soon neatly organized at the foot end of the futon along with his now unloaded weapons, making doubly sure nothing actually made contact with its quality sheets.
>Now came a strangely difficult choice to make: Should he take off his pants?
>After fifteen seconds of thoroughly debating with himself, he opted to simply walk outside for a bit to dust off whatever noticeable residue remained on them before coming back in with a noticeable shiver from the cold.
>Surely this would allow the enveloping futon's cleanliness to be retained after his testing
>With that out of the way, Gallo took a deep breath, steeled himself from the incoming wave of drowsiness that'll befall him and politely snuck his body right into the bed's covers, trying to keep it as neat as possible.
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349393
349434
>>349384
>Ivan wearily chuckled and gave his bottle a bit of a raise as she handled her own bottle of vodka.

"That crap I always hear in Rostok that's broadcast by Duty recruiters about 'deadly anomalies, dangerous mutants' and so on isn't a lie. The only one I've seen that won't actively attempt to kill you is a teleportation anomaly, which usually quickly gets mapped out to see if it leads somewhere immediately dangerous. Leaves the taste of dirt in your mouth for hours, though."
>He just stares at Denra for a long moment, before groaning softly.
"I didn't notice it, somehow. Thank you for letting me know. An exoskeleton isn't exactly a bomb suit, but it's very close to one."
>At the idea of mercenaries he'd suppress a grumble, having to remind himself that they weren't Mercs.
Mallia Castella
27d4b0d
?
No.349399
349427
>>349338

"My machines sensed someone when me and Chisan arrived--"
>Replied Mallia, as they sped towards the exit alongside Naska.
"Around 80 metres below the repository we are all sitting in, they sensed one single pony, in some seemingly collapsed tunnel! Right below where you and your comrades were taking shelter."
>The enginseer's glance seemed directed upward for about two seconds, acknowledging the signatures--and the lack of threats looming above their heads. With a thought, she shuts off the visor and snapped her glance ahead once more.
"They vanished though... And we're a ways below where the pony was supposed to be right now. Can't know where they went. Or why they are dressed like a one mare army."

>Mallia briefly quarter-turned towards Naska. Her face was obscured, but her smile was audible by her stubbornly bubbly tone.
"I wonder what that means! Maybe they can teleport. They must be very resourceful..."
"And dangerous, of course."
>Finally, Mallia would quiet down after having made her remarks. Saving her breath for pacing her breathing instead. Focusing on getting out of the vault. And listening to the vox as Chisan updates her as they went.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349416
349438
1457583358179.jpg
>>349380
>Bubba sat back on the desk once he was alone, sighing softly as he removed his helmet to run his hand through his hair.
>He rarely had a moment of silence anymore, so he savored it as much as he could.

>As the gateway activated, he slipped his helmet back on and stood up to greet them.
>And then immediately began internally swearing.
>"She didn't fucking tell me they were injured."
>He only took a brief moment to glance the three over, before focusing on the one that was least injured, nodding to him.
"The clinic's not too far from here, just a short walk. And there won't need to be a line unless one of you try to die on them."
>His eyes flicked over to the very obviously injured two.
"I'll help her walk if she needs it."
>He made to move over to her right side, offering to help her move as he motioned to the exit.
"Where are you three from?"
>"Not likely she'll be able to reply, but I wouldn't be too surprised."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349418
349437
>>349387
"Am know, no offense to take."
>Still a bit embarrassed, the Neighpon raspberries one of the larger dragon-spirits then speaks something the orb didn't translate.

>By the time you return Rasera was hooves and head first into a brand new box that could easily fit two humans inside, several smaller ones surrounding it along with most of the spirits.
>Paying little attention to you, coins and gems were being sorted out in careful lines making you wonder just how much they could carry around.

>Easing onto the bed, it was.. almost perfect.
>Despite the silk blend, the top wasn't sticky and felt cool enough to sleep on comfortably in the middle of day.
>Giving it a firmness test, the layered materials underneath were pliable enough for most hard and soft sleepers.
"Is good?"
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349426
349442
>>349359
>Taking a moment to glance over the schematics, I couldn't help but feel a tad impressed.
>All she had to look at was the rotting wreck of a ship and yet she could accurately reconstruct it with this... display thing.
>I wince at the tone she finished with, shifting in my seat.
"Its likely some of them made it back to shore before the ship sunk, Wild."
>I told her, even if I didn't really know what horrors they'd have to deal with besides being on a ship going under.
>And not as a design feature, either.

"We'll get out of here, Wild. And none of that shit about it just being me getting back, you're going to make it to Razorback with me."
>I firmly told the display, staring it down as if daring her to object.
"You'll be able to pick up speed once we get to shore."
Imminent Retrieval: A Curious Glow
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349427
349457
>>349399
"How machine sense?"
>Barely keeping up with you from the weight of her gear, Nasiksta huffs loudly, making no attempt to hide her disbelief.
"Tunnel under us?! We no find it!"

>Catching the ceiling's surface, a mixture of bleed-through energies in the shape of vague pillars seemed to be protecting the entire vault against the weight of rock above.
'How fascinating!'
>A recording machine-voice intones in wonder, though not aloud.
'That such based esoteric conceptual models exists in living states proves my theories! I must inform the Inquistor at once of this!'
>You immediately recognize the tone to be Velasi's own personal auspex machine-spirit which had been keeping silent the entire time.
>It was probably a Xenarch given the excitement, and what you knew of the arsenal she once had.

"If teleport then why no sense where pony go? Teleport only take few second to move place to place, Spiral show us how work often-"
>On your left side Nashka was struggling to maintain grasp of her boxy submachine gun, doing the same to meet your helmet.
"Maybe translocate then, that like long range teleport ten, twenty kilometers away easy-"
>Gripping the weapon tightly and holding it closer to her chest, the archaic Vostroyan analogue likewise goes silent to her own thoughts.

>Receiving no updates from Chisan or Raindrop, it was probable the first had boosted his commbead temporarily before tuning it back down to conserve power.
>Making excellent time to the vault's entrance door, the warping half-real portal ahead brightens into a furious white glow.
>Even without the visor's systems active, the clear sight of a small winged pony was emitting visible streaks of heat was more than enough for the four of the living-spirits to talk.
>All at once and over each other, unfortunately.
'That's the equine I picked up earlier-'
'what is that pony'
'A pegasus filly of approximately ten years age-'
'Why is the temperature variant that high-'
'possible Plasma enchantmarent according to early-'
'Warning: immediately notify Chisan and the human operatives-'

>Before they, you, or Nashka could respond, warbled echoes of weapons fire occur through the portal into the equine, the first of several rifle shots, a short automatic burst, and last a surprised laspistol shot that cracks into stone.
>Coming into partial focus, the burning figure can be heard shouting in a surprisingly young, almost squeaky young girl's tone:
"Wait I'm not here to hurt any of yo- OW OW OW STOP THAT PLEASE-"
>Then comes Chisan's profoundly 'I am so done with this groxshit' tone.
"Cease fire, CEASE FIRE THAT IS NOT A THREAT-"
>Followed by the Commissar's booming howl of:
"NEXT ONE THAT SHOOT GET BANISHED TO MOON!"

'what the fuck'
>Is all that Tox-11 states before transmitting ASCII image, that of an older, heavyset Guardsman that probably wouldn't pass regulations.
>The arms were crossed, a confused expression on the lower face clear, helmet tipped forwards almost angrily.
'hot heads'
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349434
349458
>>349393
>Stopping to take a deep breath, Whiplash motions the half-empty bottle towards you in a hale 'to us' motion, then glances down to check how much she'd drank.
>Grade B- hangover for most humans you realize, but more like a Grade A+ for batponies and pegasi.
>Oh well.
>Visibly incensed at the Lunarite not offering his bottle back, Denra grumbles under his breath before fixing you with an impressed expression.
"You don't seem particularly pleased at this 'Duty' group or faction. Sounds like a late Dynasty Pathfinder team slogan to me."
"Nah, I'd bet it's more like the Day Guard's Subversive Containmarent Project group. Bunch of cold-teated mares always screeching on and on about keeping everything THEY can't understand far away from ponies."
>Eyeing the batmare in subtle approval, Denra gives a small conciliatory shrug.
"Can't quite disagree with that. According to Torven and Betlltower there are at least five thousand near-temporal anomalies throughout the Moors. Less than a hundred are considered above class three, that being barely hazardous to living beings. Maybe two or three are class six or higher, those with the capability to cause injuries or could be potentially lethal. There's an old record of two within the same rain belt that the Hive is in, supposedly even the last Dusk Striders refused to investigate it."
>Hoofing the bottle to Denra whom gives her an exasperated sigh, Whiplash Vines speaks up in an amused lilt.
"Haven't seen it yet? I did. Wish we could get something that looked half that good for combat duties. Interesting as this conversation is there's little we can find here. Mind taking us up?"
"Of course, one second-"
>Without bothering to ask for permission, you, the diplomat, and the Lunarite are instantly sucked into a vaguely rainbow colored tunnel.

>Arriving in the Workshop's northern section and barely noticing the transition, or landing on your ass, Denra glances about quickly while Whiplash begins to stretch her wings out.
"Strange, I thought Helping Hoof and Krinza would be here. Suppose I'll catch them later."
>Nodding at something behind you, the yellow unicorn begins turning rather stiffly towards the west door.
"Your suit is in front of Krinza's work table. It appears to be relatively finished though I have no idea what those five canisters are. Good night to you both and please don't call on me unless there's an emergency, the family jewels are still in pain."
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349437
349445
>>349418
>In response to Rasera's latest question, Cheto simply lets out a comfortable little exhale as he further snuggled up against the covers.
>He certainly wasn't expecting such accomodations from somepony that didn't even thought about selling human beds to what seemed to be the most prominent demographic in the compound.
"I can certainly get used to this," the man sleepily added as he closed his eyes for just a second "but I might want to give it a full test run to-"
>José couldn't help but yawn a little, groggily covering his mouth with a hand out of politeness.
"-to correctly ascertain its value."
>Softly opening his eyes, José takes a look around at the spirits that witnessed his proposal to gauge their general reaction to his request.
"Will that be alright with you all?" the man softly asks with a somewhat pleading little smile.
Razorback Fortress: Old-New Arrivals
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349438
349459
>>349416
>Giving a stern look to the younger man, the sniper makes a brief 'move quickly' motion.
"Closest building then, go."
>Suppressing a glare at the command, presumably used to taking orders from officers, Anthelm ignores the dropped shield and hefts the female with both hands in front of him, arms clasping under the belt.
>Carefully dragging her northwards the assault trooper gives you a sincere look of appreciation as he passes by, the girl stumbles along, head swinging in either a concussed or traumatized state.
"She is not heavy, I will manage."

>Waiting until the two exit the pagoda, then a few more seconds, the winter sniper enters attention stance, hands clasping behind his back.
>Eyes closing, the older man turns rigid before speaking in a firmly neutral tone.
"Anthelm is an assault storm trooper from the First Grand Reich of his world, I know little else save that he was addicted to a white pill for some time. I am from the Ninth Allied Defense Force of Her Majesty's Imperial Bavarian-Korean Empire. Specialist sniper, winter regions. The girl, I do not know, her language is older than either of us. Not even the.."
>Pausing to make a slight grimace, or possibly wince, he continues in the same voice as before.
"Unusually friendly colorful horned equines understood much save that her dialect was akin to what they called Saxoneigh."
>Eyes opening again, he stares upwards at the gems embedded on the pagoda's underside roof.
"She sustained numerous injuries from a raptor of unknown species, approximately four feet high, but I know nothing else except the attacker was confirmed deceased. She was treated by an allied equine whom had some comprehension yet lacked proper supplies before Lucid Shock's squad arrived in the.. village we have been living in for the past fifteen months."

>Remaining silent and still, it seemed he was treating you as an officer.
Lost in the Crag Moors: A Bigger Problem Than The Last Two
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349442
349604
>>349426
>Partially turning to stare back at you, the miniature Wild's antennae flick, much like a pony's ears would, then gives a hopeful nod.
"I had not calculated that possibility. One moment-"
>Placing a number of white markers on the vessel's image, the caricature rocks back on its boots in thought.
"Total number of deceased: one hundred thirty-nine. Assuming the transport watercraft was operating at maximum capacity that leaves one-hundred eighty-one potential survivors."
>The antennae twitch again, the cartoon image disappears as the screen shows a fuzzy image from earlier, that of the unknown Ferron pegasus.
"Do you have any data available on pegasi inhabiting the Moors regions?"

>Emitting a short, encouraged static-laden noise from overhead, the chest cabin rocks briefly from another wave's undertow.
"I will do my best mom, but this is an emergency situation. Ammunition remaining: five of six shells. Estimated hull integrity: one hundred and thirty of three-hundred sixty. Estimated internal integrity: ninety-five of three-hundred sixty."
>The external camera view shows a small rounded protrusion of taller sand ahead, one that the Eldritch Android was forced to make her way around.
>Though, something wasn't quite about the heavy overcast above.
"Priority Threats One and Two estimated to be capable of one-hundred mile per hour flight. Priority Threats Three through One-Hundred Two: unknown. Error, suspected flight indexes of fifty-miles per hour. Even if I were at full capabilities I would be unable to evade long range weapon fire."
>The unsaid 'if they have as much' hangs briefly in the air.

[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #8

"Regional update: large scale storms inbound from northwest, unknown speed and heading. Predicted impact: severe."
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Arcanum Sensor Array
[1d6 = 1] <Damaged Sensor Node #1
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349445
349446
>>349437
>Immediately hearing opportunity, the sable Neighpon mare ceases her efforts to look up and right.
>The dragon-spirits continue their sorting when she stands, although several of them give an unseen side-eye to her.
"Not of know human beds. Is good enough for to trade?"

>The bed's overly comfortable design, not to mention versatility could easily pass for most any expensive one made by humans, whether it was called a futon or not.
>At least, that's what your tired body was trying to say.

>Walking up to within five or so meters, Rasera's voice rings merrily from the translation orb across the tent's interior.
"What think of?"
>All of the dragons stop working to look at you, then to those across from themselves.
>At first, nothing.
>Then the miniature weapon carrying ones open their jaws, speaking silently.
>Visibly disagreeing, those clutching scrolls, bags, tiny backpacks, and unusual implemarents argue back.
>Taking a half-step forwards and turning around, conveniently exposing her rather substantial plot lines, the Neighpon's head tips left, then right.

>Close to half a minute of bickering later, Rasera shakes her mane out, dark blue hair flowing wildly.
>Settling for taking several steps backwards, the fairly tall mare sits down on the bed's corner close to you and turns to give an apologetic yet pained smile.
>Either she didn't want to get involved or the fifty-fifty split was due to something cultural.

>Rudely interrupted from drowsiness by a loud crash outside, thankfully a good distance away, the mare crew boss is heard shouting, albeit faintly, in a distinctly pleased drawling tone.
"Great job ya'all, Tipper'll be real 'appy ta fine'er new hospital up an'runnin' this fast! Now 'ow marely more o'them 'ouses left?"
>Definitely not a local.
>Probably?
"Awright, bring 'em up an' the'twins'll start settin' 'em foundations, res'a you wit' me!"

>Throughout the words the translation orb hadn't even attempted to function, Rasera's eyebrows raising to blink at the completely untranslated lingo in mixed curiosity and apprehension.
"That mare, what of say?"
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349446
349447
>>349445
>Needless to say, José really wanted to pass out right now under the cushioned covers of the queen sized futon, but his polite nature deemed it too improper to do.
>The fact Rasera came at about arms' length further teased his tired brain with the prospect of scooping her up into the bed for an even better day's sleep.
>Perhaps her mane was as silky as the covers?
(No. Remember what Frost said.)

>Taking a deep breath, Gallo gave her a solid nod admist his comfortable resting.
"Certainly covers my whole body," he softly commented as the spirits bickered around him "so any human would be interested in trading for this. Some even while having a bed of their own."
>Having said that, the man's eyes watched in wonder as the dragons continued their arguing.
>It all still felt so surreal, even after everything else he's seen so far.
>So much so that he couldn't help but brighten his smile

>The crash did make his eyes widened considerably, but as he once again heard that foremare from before congratulating on a job well done, José simply breathed out in relief.
>The charming accent did further intrigue him, wondering from where exactly it came from, too.
>Soon turning his head to face Rasera's at the futon's edge, the man gives her a nod.
"Construction mares seemed to have finished Tipper's hospital," he gladly translated "and now they're starting their next project, which is more houses. Foundations are being fetched and placed as we speak."
>A part of him idly thought how convenient it was that there was both house builders and a potential furniture seller around him.
>Perhaps he could do Razorback a solid right now.
"This may be a bit too forward of me," the man prefaced with an amicable smile at the Japoneighse mare "but could yout measure my width and height in the bed? It should help your bed makers if they want to manufacture for human sizes."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349447
349448
>>349446
>Frowning at the commotion that probably wasn't going to end for a bit, the Neighpon gives a small sigh, lifting a hoof to poke her forehead several times.
>Face creasing in annoyance, the look disappears when she turns to give a highly pleased smile.
"Is of first human Rasera meet great news! Am of send letters back for Rasera clan, make spirit beds not for spirits-"
>A scowl arrives instantly as she rounds on several of the armed dragon-spirits drawing their weapons, which was being countered by an equal number preparing to use their scrolls..

>Loosing an angry verbal harangue that immediately quiets the group, most of the dragons that could sheathe their weaponry, or at least attempt, the rest slinging polearms, or was that poleclaws? onto their backs.
>One close to the entrance carrying a larger set of coins begins spinning it in the air, gazing at the rest.
[1d6 = 2] <Winning Vote

>Sniffing aloud in disdain, Rasera turns once more to face you, eyebrows furrowing together with a curious smile.
"Am travel of Equestria lots, see castle small, big, too big... floating castle once! Want of see human castle done too."
>Head swiveling to glance you up and down, a tinge of difficult to read emotion flits across her face.
>Lifting both forehooves and pressing them together, her lips move as if counting.
>The translation orb doesn't react to it, though.
"This-"
>Pausing to tap her a front hoof on the bed, four sets of five, then another three.
"Tall, this-"
>Three sets of five, then three more.
"Wide. Am make-"
>The next word doesn't translate, instead coming out as a miffed sounding neigh.
>Snapping her head up to give orb a critical stare, the right eye twitches.
>Angrily.
>Which she recovers from easily enough.
"For letter."

>Nickering at one of the scroll carrying dragon-spirits, it turns to regally float in her direction, the mare speaking rapidly and using a hoof to make a number of gestures that were probably related to measuremarents.
>Possibly even measuremarents.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349448
349449
>>349447
>By this point, Cheto's wondrous look was slowly being replaced with a bit of concern at how heated the spirit dragons' discussion was becoming.
>However, it seemed Rasera had things under control judging by her attempts to keep her friendly disposition towards him despite looking annoyed at all the chaos around them.
>A part of him wondered if these spirits were or were influenced by the mare's own personal thoughts somehow.
>Hopefully she wouldn't put up with disrespect he might be unintentionally causing just for his sake
>He had to learn this stuff, after all.

>Focusing back on the trader's words, the man soon brought a polite smile of his own to compliment hers.
"I must admit I'm curious about the other castles Tallus has in store," he similarly admitted. "I'm probably going to be in a lot of them the rest of my life."
>With that little seed planted, now he softly looked upwards at all the commotion, particularly at the one carrying the coins
"I don't mean to pry," he questioned "but what exactly has made them upset? Am I being disrespectful to them?"
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349449
349450
>>349448
>Catching your notice with a small exhale of bright green, the dragon-spirit's coin swinging stops, causing to rest to turn and stare at it.
>Plucking a single one off the string, its held up for all the others to stare at.
>Those carrying weapons take on smug expressions, while those without were even more smug.
>Somehow.
>...
>Whatever significance that had was profoundly lost to you.

>Beginning to speak, only to stop, Rasera blinks slowly as understanding dawns, the left eyebrow raising questioningly.
"Have of not see other Equestria castles? Lots ground castles ponies build, few pony castles in sky. Minotaurs build more castles. Neighpon even more castles! Am know of little human history-"
>The next world comes out as a strangled neigh, eliciting a quick snort towards it.
"Of human that-"
>Halting to stare down her nose, the sable mare frowns deeply while speaking in a slow cadence, the translation orb apparently working overtime.
"Ten times ten humans Sun call of to Equestria. Am ha-"
>Cutting off another neigh with an angry tail flick, she continues without skipping more than a half-second.
"Know little of more humans call by Sun, other places."

>Blinking upwards at the otherwise completely silent and still tent, Rasera nods towards the dragon-spirit still holding out the coin, then motions a forehoof towards the rest.
"No disrespect. Wrong argumarent two side make: warriors say you human not sleep on, no of good enough for be Otherword bed. Say of human need more comfort bed. Followers say you human not sleep of spirit-bed, too big for of comfort with herd.."
>Trailing off, Rasera's gaze turns on you with one eyebrow raised, the other lowered incredulously.
"Unless human has big herd of eight pony."

>It was becoming clear to you that the orb was an early version, or perhaps a model, and was learning on the go.
>Possibly sentient.
>Maybe, just maybe it wasn't sapient.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349450
349462
>>349449
>Weirdly fascinating, those spirit dragons...

>Gallo looked on patiently as Rasera continued to struggle dealing with the learning machine construct that reminded him of the mail system Razorback had.
"I'm afraid I couldn't quite catch what you said at the end there, miss," he regretfully informed "but yes. Humans does also have many castles. However, my profession didn't involve going to them much. Now it most likely does."

>Now listening to the actual reason the dragons were arguing so feverently made José chuckle in amusement.
"That's a relief," he answered in kind. "All this time they were debating on what reason why I shouldn't be sleeping on this bed."
>Now the human turned a little wistful, turning towards Rasera..
"As for herds," he added. "I can't quite tell how that works with pony societies, so my answer is probably inaccurate."
>With that said, the man slowly sits up from the futon in order to properly face the equine at the corner of the bed.
"Perhaps I should show why I'm confused," he followed up as a mostly naked arm approached the mare before stopping about two snouts away from her face. "May I replicate the motions I've been doing to equines thus far?"
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.349457
349464
>>349427
>Mallia did have the time to elaborate to Nasiksta what she meant--but this reaction struck her with a worriesome surface thought.
(Note to self: Find the correct low-tech vocabularies to effectively describe what an Auspex is to someone who might not even know what the word itself means...)
>She felt a twinge of sadness for about a split-second, having to leave Nasiksta hanging onto her thoughts while they ran through the vault, the clattering of Mallia's lasrifle and Omnissian axe upon her back, and their boots, filling the brief calm before the storm of the next moment.

>She did do a brief mental double-take, her head tilting downward towards her arm--wielding her shield, and also wearing the Auspex scanner.
(Yeah, it's--!)
(--Wait--I don't recognize that voice.)
(Theories??)
>A stream of overeager thoughts arrive, and then stop suddenly as she forces herself to FOCUS--especially as a certain foreboding gut feeling comes to her as she stops hearing Chisan's voice, and they come dashing out of the vault door!

>She comes to a rapid stop as her cognition makes it just in time to process the appearance of an unfamiliar small pegasus,
>Followed by simultaneous stream of voices she couldn't spare the focus to immediately comb through for meaning,
>Followed by GUNSHOTS and the crack of a single laspistol shot.

>Suffice to say, Mallia is knocked into brief fight or flight; she suddenly stops thinking entirely and briefly enters pure muscle memory; lifting her shield, shifting her feet, and hovering her hand over the grip of the Hellpistol Chisan had allowed her to borrow.
>But she doesn't draw.
>Instead she holds there. As the next second, as she processes the situation, she catches up mentally and her body straightens.
>...
>Her helmet turns to the bullet holes in the wall, then back to the fabled mystery equine, flabbergasted.

>... Then she casts a sudden glance towards Chisan's general direction, though he might not catch it--or the two second long stare she gave him, before she turned back to the practically incadescent ...
>Filly?

>Mallia briskly, again, quarter-turned to Naska...
>Then Enginseer's posture relaxes quickly, exhaling audibly through the helmet as she begins to lower her shield.
"... We found our mystery pony..."
>She sighed out the remark beneath her breath towards Nasiksta, then starts to sidestep along in Chisan's general direction.
"Everything is fine. Eveeerything~ is fine..."

(... What the warp is she wearing? Plasma enchantmarents?)
(That's quite...)
(A lot? For a ten year old. Is it not? Right? There must be an important detail behind that.)
(Who is this filly?)

>Moving at a brisk, but calm walking pace towards Chisan, she doesn't take her eyes off the filly. Examining their attire and trying to catch some details.
>Symbols, maybe a coat of arms; maybe a distinct color scheme that the Inquisitorial machine spirits will recognise for her, anything.
>And also trying to evaluate the armour she was looking at, out of sheer curiosity if anything.

>Without the Preysense. The heat signature would probably dazzle her.

<B. Perception
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6 = 1]
<E. Engineering
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]

>She would eventually stop her movement once she was within a couple metres of Chisan.
>The enginseer saying nothing. Merely observing and listening as the situation developed.
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349458
349473
>>349434
"Duty is... A bit of a joke. They wish to destroy the Zone, while their main 'enemy' in Freedom wishes to simply do what they wish in it, hence the name."
>He idly motioned with a hand.
"They work with the military on occasion, and are basically the only Zone faction aside from the Ecologists who aren't shot at on sight by them. That gives them a bit of an ego trip."
>He quirked an eyebrow at the mention of two anomalies that nobody would go into.
>He might investigate them whenever he eventually finds his way to the Moors, he supposes.
>With a grin, he chuckled.
"An Exoskeleton is the single most protective combat suit in the Zone, and practically my world. It even gives decent anomaly protection, but the Ecologists do have specialized suits to go into anomalies."

>Even if he wasn't expecting the sudden transition of rooms, Ivan managed to stay on his feet.
>Though he looked a bit ill at it.
>With a bit of a groan and a shake of his head, he made his way over to the exoskeleton and looked it over, appraising it.
"This is a lot different than I was expecting. Definitely customization in here that isn't possible back home."
>His hands run over the new exterior, getting a quiet feel for how it would probably feel on his frame.
"Well, if we're going anywhere I'm going to want to be wearing this so I can get used to it, even if its a simple 'drop off a note' run. Looks to be simple enough to put on, even compared to the original models."
>Though he might want to get his hands on some paint eventually.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349459
349474
>>349438
>Bubba gave the sturmtruppen a nod as he passes with her in his grasp, eyeing them to make sure he'd be able to even get out the door.

>Bubba listened closely to him, eyebrow twitching a bit at "Bavarian-Korean Empire" but refraining from commenting.
>Definitely something to ask about later.
>"Of course they have a Saxon pun. Why wouldn't they?"
"Nordic or barbarian tribes, perhaps. Certainly older than the three of us. She'll be fine, I've seen some... miracles out of these ponies."

>Bubba eyed him for a moment, before nodding his head.
"Relax, this is informal. What's your name?"
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349462
349463
>>349450
>Side-eyeing the orb, Rasera's vocal inflection was a solid wall of disappointmarent.
"Am not know why Lunars have of old learner one, lots places have of good ones, even in Hegemony. New ones better, too."
>Shifting to cross forelegs over her chest, the right hoof lifts to tap her chin lightly as she gives a questioning look.
"What is profession of you if safe say? And, am see human castle when come early. Rasera see one-"
>Preventing yet another neigh by frowning and not finishing the work.
"Like here but that castle.. one of five smaller?"
>Ignoring the dragon-spirits having made their decision, they were now posturing in some sort of post-brawl ritual as if to show both sides won.
>In entirely different events, no less.
"Smallest herd is batpony of Moors. Batpony have stallion, mare. Some think weird way. Unicorn stallion, two mare, rare three. Pegasus stallion, two mare, sometime three, rare four. Earth pony... stallion, five to ten mare."
>At that Rasera visibly contracts in a full body cringe, yet recovers and continues to speak as if that didn't happen.
"Neighpon is come from long ago earth pony! One stallion, two three, four mare most. Saddle Arabian also come from long ago earth pony, same as Chinays. Not know what place long ago earth pony from."
>Motionless, though blinking at your hand, the sable mare gives a dumbfounded look.
"What of mean?"
Cheto
!!I8slZdKQ5.
685e4f2
?
No.349463
349521
>>349462
>Cheto hums softly in turn at this new information, keeping in mind there are more up to date versions of translator orbs to possibly scour out if learning languages takes too long.
>It won't stop him from learning it himself though.
>A monotone tone lacks the appropriate charm from genuine expression in the language

>His humming continued, looking a little uncertain, before eventually giving her a nod.
"I'm a diplomat," the man tentatively revealed with a little sheepish smile. "As for the human castles you saw, I really can't say much since I know little."
>Hopefully the reveal isn't going to make things awkward...

>José listened intently, keeping tabs on the expected number of mares each stallion of the cultures mentioned had.
(Diez yeguas por padrillo de tierra? Fua...)
>He'd also take note of Rasera's own herd inclinations as that may help him figure out how to proceed in what was coming next.

>Seeing the sable mare looking on in utter confusion, José gave her a slightly amused, sheepish smile.
"Well," he admitted "I may have done many things with this hand on mares that could be considered dubious."
>Having said that, he cautiously brought up his other arm into the mix, now both staring right at Rasera's snout.
"I really don't want the translator to mix up the words," he continued "so I figured demonstrating my actions on you may be the best bet to clear up any misunderstandings."
Imminent Retrieval: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349464
349520
>>349457
'Fear not Enginseer Castella, I am a Xenotechnologist machine-spirit in service of Her Blessedness High Inquisitor Velasi Aguina.'
>Subtlety: zero.

>Slowing to a halt alongside you, Nasiksta blanches at the weapons fire while staring through the portal, then quickly slings the bulky submachine gun across her back.
>Leaning close to whisper at your helmet, the girl's tone was one of deep seated awe with a tinge of fear.
"Is a Solar pony, may know Princess of Sun-"

>Going silent as Chisan walks into view, he'd holstered your Laspistol and was approaching the winged equine with hands upraised looking as if he was about to negotiate.
>Which you knew had the potential to turn all sorts of wrong considering Storm Troopers utterly lacked diplomatic skills, except for the rather suspect Inquisitorial variety.
"I must ask you to forgive this team behind me, they have stood down, they not harm you again. I am fully at fault for this mistake and will accept any punishmarent you deem fitting."
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Sanctioned Inquisitorial Neighgotiation
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
>Wings flapping once before settling on its sides, the small equine figure stands up, then straighter still, and one last time, head craning up to try meeting the Scion's eyes.
>At the very least it wasn't trying to deflagrate the building.
>Yet.

'more controlled than any Plasma enchantmarent, enginseer. that pseudo-filly is known as a Sunspot. archaic records inquisitor stole denote Princess Celestia created several semi-artificial sapient equine likes to serve as heralds, messengers, well wishers, diplomats. none have been seen since Lunar-Solar War, all presumed deceased or destroyed. we might be in luck here'
>Andronal quietly slips into high-band contact while Witch-Two does her best to contain the Tracker twins' curiosity, a tiny datafile from M32 being unlocked for your view.
'index table: imperium mechanicus studies, hypothetical sapient entities, unknown coronal potentials. based on extraneous coronal physics of energetic mass given full sapience. estimated chance of possible occurrence: 0.00000001%. need to confer with others'

>Straightening her helmet, field pack, then clothing nervously, Nashka tries to silently follow you stepping out of the vault into realspace.
>To your right the old Commissar was shoving two of the three younger males back towards the entrance, muttering hotly while the last one was in power-walking retreat.
>Easily spotting the damage to floor and walls, the impacts were rather substantial, although the crater Chisan had left with your Laspistol was still smoking.

>Outside of the warped portal's view, the pegasus 15M from you was far less of a threat than initial inspection suggested:
>Barely two and a half feet tall, if that, the neck, saddle, and flank were curved similarly to Raindrop, though less pronounced.
>The entire coat was a shifting bright red, though not eye searing, while the mane and tail were a spicy white-orange shifting mix that would probably give any non-hardened thermal system severe fits.
>The eyes that rotate to inspect you were a soft blue, rather fitting given the relatively low physical heat radiating off her.

>Considering the possibilities, you recall a large number of extinct xenos species the Imperium had encountered that were known to have limited control of energetic or fully incorporeal mass.
>Outside psykers whom could rarely manifest such, or the so-called faith of the Adepta Sororitas and their 'miracles', the most similar occurrence was a baffling spaceborne entity during the early Great Crusade stages.
>Capable of controlling entropic shifts throughout an entire solar system that ranged from barely more than a few hundred to over a million degrees, it was eventually destroyed by use of massed battleship weaponry set to fractal disruption patterns.
>Which of course destroyed the solar system it inhabited, including all fifteen planets and hundreds of moons.
>Another close variance were the variety of bizarre flame and magma creatures the Imperium had dealt with, capable of similar yet far less lethal temperature control.
>Unfortunately, there were no other references you could locate on plasma-based life forms, nor could the Xenarite machine-spirit.

"Please don't do that again, I might not die but those really hurt."
>Came the less squeaky response after half a minute, the much younger and completely unaccented voice could, you think, pass as being Raindrop's sister.
"Well, okay, can we start over before your things bit me?"
"At your leisure."
"O.. kay? Um, I dunno how but something woke me up. Heard voices above me so I jumped up to the roof and looked around for a while. Didn't see anypony except you four taller.. minotaurs?"
"We are not minotaurs. No hooves or horns, see?"
"Oh, okay. That's a little weird. Well, I watched you four and the big pegasus for a bit then I jumped in here and.. those things bit me."
"May I ask what your purpose was here? According to a report this city was abandoned six hundred to nine hundred years prior to now."
"Really? That's a long time but it's okay. I lived in Twin Hill for a while until most of the ponies left, they didn't like something around here. A while later mom said I didn't have to do anything for her anymore so I went to sleep. Woke up a few times when the really big storms hit, but until now it's been really nice just to nap. Dunno what else to say."

'hit Chisan in the face if he screws this up. please.'
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349473
349476
>>349458
>Whiplash politely waves at Denra, receiving a nod in return form him and slowly begins shuffling towards door.

"Exactly what the Day and Royal Guard do for the most part. Sometimes they can be convinced to not destroy what they don't understand, just not always. Freedom huh? Sounds groovy."
>Leaping straight up and onto Krinza's table, the batmare's eyes glint in humor while spinning around to face you.
"I get it now, they're named for how they function. You might want to get in touch with Canterlot Underground at some point. About three, maybe four thousand unicorns, all pretty serious about studying rather than tossing stuff into a black hole or worse. Met a few, they're not high strung like most unicorns. Also heard they retain a bunch of marecenaries and a few Crystal ponies too."
>Peering at the suit's back appraisingly, she gives a short hoof tap, then reaches out to poke the helmet using both sets of wingclaws.
"Heavy. Protective. Brutal. Like minotaur slab armor only smaller. I'd wear one but it doesn't look all that fast. What about those special suits, how do they look? And is there anything similar here that you've seen so far?"

>Outside the few Zone workshops that could even repair an exoskeleton, the modifications made to this one were much more complex, though given the amount of material and expertise Razorback had on hoof this was a fairly 'normal' refit.
>Except for all the gutted electronics, capacitors, fiber or cable bundles, and heaps of servos piled next to the tungsten anvil.
>Behind that was one of the artifact containers holding the remnants of specialized Zone-produced batteries.
>Which you can only hope that Krinza didn't touch.

"What, made more changes than you were expecting? Krinza's not a perfectionist but he tries real hard. Only took those four maybe a couple hours each. Was trying to nap earlier when the anvils started clanging. Watched most of what they did. Pretty neat, except the noise and all those sparks Naliyna made putting that weird glowing rope looking stuff in it."
>Brushing off the helmet's top, Whiplash's eyes widen when the surface ripples into the same color as her claws.
"Whoa, they actually made it work. I thought Helping Hoof and Lann were joking about color changing paint. Wonder what it'd look like in fog?"

>Taking a closer examination at the frontal plating it the same semi-flexible steel alloy that Krinza used for virtually everything else, making what flexibility it would have had now hindered some by the crystalline fiber bundles packed throughout the internal spaces.
>Noting a series of overlapping armor seams on the shoulders that led to helmet attachment points, entirely unlike the Zone's models this one's refurbishmarent included a rather simple design to climb inside.
>Almost like a spandex jumpsuit, except metallic, bulky, heavy, and now probably costing several months of scavenging work.

>Sitting down, well away from the pile of scrap, Whiplash's eyebrows raise with a typical lazy grin, flicking both sets of wingclaws outwards in small opening motions.
"Color me curious. Need a wing or hoof?"
Razorback Fortress: Old-New Arrivals
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349474
349527
>>349459
>Partial recognition, and possibly suspicion, flickers in the winter sniper's eyes, glancing upwards once more before giving a hesitant nod.
"How could such archaic- nevermind. Equine technologies are.. impressive yet I have witnessed their unstable and volatile effects multiple times. We have had limited contact save for local inhabitants, the majority of which were considerably less reliant on their 'spell' technologies. Their military personnel share no such idea however."
>Moving to a loose parade rest, the man rocks back on his heels.
"Volfgang Jin-Chul."
>And there it was.
"It is unlikely that we will be allowed to return and I must ask for the mercy of Razorback. I will fully comply with all rules, laws, treaties, and stipulations of such, but-"
>Biting his cheeks for several seconds, Volfgang's eyes narrow.
"On a technicality we are registered residents in Germaneigh but were classed as refugees under hostile threat. I must know if there are relief processes for entering Equestria without formal authorization."
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349476
349523
>>349473
"Freedom's also more or less the 'Hippy' faction of the Zone. They're the most lax when it comes to drugs aside from Loners and even Bandits or Renegades. Though the Renegades have been wiped out... more than once."
>He grimaced a little.
"Renegades are barely tolerated by even the Bandits. Absolute degenerates who deserve extermination."

>He'd idly sort through the pile of scrapped electronics with the tip of his boot before turning back to the exoskeleton, appraising softly nodding his head.
>"They'd have to use their own technologies to repair it, not too surprised."
>He'd have to extensively test the suit out later.

"We don't have this special paint, for instance. The closest we've gotten to this are complex paint schemes."
>He glances over at Whiplash.
"Weird glowing rope looking stuff?"
>"Probably replacement electrical wiring."

>With a bit of a shrug he'd begin to remove his Sunrise bodysuit, working down until he was in his underclothes, showing off a lot more of his pale body. And extensive scarring along his legs and arms.
"Looks a lot easier to get into than a Zone model, shouldn't take more than a couple minutes."
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.349520
349524
>>349464
>If the situation didn't warrant seriousness, Mallia would've giggled to the machine spirit's openness. But her mirth is transmitted nonetheless.
>She transmits shame that she must do this briskly and without much ceremony, this time.
(I do not fear. I am not much of an orthodox. In the name of the Omnissiah this humble Enginseer greets you, erudite machine spirit.)

>Just as quickly as she greets Velasi's personal auspex spirit, she blinked as she took in the features of the winged filly before them...
>The mention of 'solar' pony elicits a quick glance from Mallia to Nasiksta and a 'ooooh...' that sounded full of wonder and awe herself...
>It took her a second to do a double-take on Chisan as he steps forward to initiate diplomacy.
>A stormtrooper? Doing diplomacy?
>Does not compute.
>Regardless of her surprise mixed with a heartfelt worry, she said nothing. She wasn't more qualified for this than Chisan was, regardless of roles. Albeit she tilted her head a little and felt her brow furrowing somewhat...
>Out of a nervous tick, her mechadendrite is briefly shown as it slithers up from her back with a little mechanical whirr, resting a little against her hip. Before swiftly retracting it and rapidly tucking it against her back, really tightly.

>Omnissiah, she hopes the sight of the augmentation doesn't make things worse somehow...

>Then... She meets the Sunspot's gaze, mostly by accident, as the filly seems to look at her, however briefly.
>It was from behind her helmet's jet black rebreather mask, but Mallia instinctively smiles amiably as she focused on those eyes.
>Every fiber of her being was screaming from the cuteness before her very eyes.
>Even if it was a particularly powerful xeno...

(Oh. So it is not a mere pony...)
(Semi-artificial... A herald...)
>Uttering the thought as she hungrily digs through the M32 data file with a powerful curiosity...
>She unconsciously starts to rub the thumb and the index of her right hand together, her attention shifting inward as she extrapolates and extracts information.
>And still she had more questions than answers, and so little time to ask them all.

(... The plasma is a part of her...)
(Look at that coat, and that mane, and the tail...)
(She must be impervious to heat-based attacks, surely.)
>A wild thought bubbles to the surface...
(I wonder if... The Sunspot's energies could be given... To make stable plasma conduits? No. No... Bad... Mmm--nhg--)

(--Could she have a clue on how we could find the Princess? Maybe she has an innate connection given her nature.)

(... And--wait, the others that might've existed are all dead?)
(Oh.)
(That's going to make The Sunspot so sad!! She doesn't sound like she has any idea of current events! She might not know she's the only one left...)

>Mallia struggled to disentangle herself from the rapidly growing web of thoughts, excitements, and realisations.
"She must be ancient...", the Enginseer whispered.
>Finally, the enginseer threw out a huff and gave a little stupefied shake of her head. She had to flush her head of thoughts and refocus.

>Her whole attention goes to the conversation between the Sunspot and Chisan. Gazing with rapt attention as the stormtrooper... Doesn't do too badly at talking.
>Mallia herself lowered her glance and began to unstrap her crimson shield. Looking down briefly to it as she goes to pull the strap and put it around her to wear the shield on her back, over the other two weapons there, the mechadendrite having to slip a little more to her wither to find space.

(Uh. Wilco!)
>She looks at Chisan once, her hands idly resting on her fairly wide hips.
>Then Mallia starts turning her head, looking around for Raindrop whom she hadn't heard or seen much of yet...

*"Stormtrooper Chisan, interrogative: Should I be removing my helmet?"*
*"I feel it is more easy to trust someone you can see the eyes of."*
>She lifts her hand to her Inquisitorial flak helmet's chin strap, already ready to begin removing if allowed to do so.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349521
349522
>>349463
>Emitting a small whistle, the sable Neighpon's head dips in a minorly respectful motion.
"Am of glad know human have speaker, make easier trade."
>Ears perking briefly, Rasera's nostrils flare as she gives a slow eyelash flutter.
>Forelegs raising, both dark blue hooves turn upwards, her expression turning laconic.
"Am no blushing filly. Prove what say human."
>Oh dear.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349522
349609
>>349521
>While mildly curious why Rasera's front hooves have been partly lifted from the floor, José figured they were there to stop the ministrations to come.
>All of a sudden, things seemed to have an air of purposefulness that distinguished this moment from the previous moments he experienced before.
>The mare's expectant look, fully committing to be subjected to his human hands.
>A part of Gallo felt awfully weird yet excited under these circumstances, but he couldn't quite pin down a reason why.
"Alright," he replied softly, soon taking a slow, deep breath as his cadence soon turned as smooth as his downtime with Flicker and Frost.
>Gently scooting closer, the human's hands soothingly landed across Rasera's cheeks before caringly caressing them with a slow, calm tenderness.
>All the while, his gaze was always aligned with hers as his smiled slowly became more earnest and relaxed.
"Feel free to tell me to stop," he smoothly offered. "We're both learning our customs."
>Having said that, one of his hands carefully traced along the side of her head as the other comfortably cupped her cheek, the latter idly stroking its hairs in an appreciative manner.
>If José wasn't stopped, Rasera's ear would find itself being generously scritched.

>It's at this point he'd hold his current course of action until she delivered her verdict proper.
>This is what he mostly did with Frost, and she herself warned him about doing such a thing.
>Despite the fact it felt so nice...
>Perhaps afterwards he can do that weird urge to boop her snout like with the medical head in the fortress or the circumstantial cuddling and manestroking with the narcoleptic Nova.
>Right now, though?
>He was going to let himself enjoy the moment.
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349523
349530
>>349476
"Figured as much from the name alone."
>Flippantly tossing her wingclaws up in a reasonable level of disgust, Whiplash's expression sours.
"Might as well be our equivalent of Las Pegasus for all the good their 'freedom' allows. As for bandits those would be the like the Lishanki, bunch of backstabbing idiots. No morals, just plain old greed."

>Nudging the pile of scraps on the floor, you note a distinct lack of tin, copper, silver, and all the other useful materials Naliyna often worked overtime to acquire.
>At least nothing would go to waste here.

"Like the fractal pattern camouflage on most of the buildings and some human armors? That's about what we're limited to outside of magic."
>Wings folding under her neck and wingclaws grasping each other in that traditional vampire style, the Lunatite batmare's eyes narrow into tiny diamond slits.
"There's ten, maybe fifteen armors painted with something like this stored on the Moon. Was real common during the Sun-Moon War, extensively used by all sides, especially marecenaries. Most of the recipes for phasic coatings were lost along with about half the technical and magical knowledge. Krinza's good, but this mixture is rather crude. It's not fast acting and the color imprint fades too quickly to be useful unless completely motionless. It's close enough to pass for eating a Void drop or dakkori moss except for having only those two small negatives."
>Tearing her gaze from the exo, she glances right, then left, finally giving a half-hearted shrug shrug.
"Thought Nal might've left some here. Yeah, bunch of ropes, white, blue, pink, green, red, yellow, orange. Probably all that crystal tech she's been studying whenever free. Was attaching them piece by piece to individual pieces. Time she was done testing them out that whole suit of yours could walk around, and all she had to do was hum to control it."

>Barely interested in you stripping down, Whiplash's focus remains steady on the exo's array of mechanical aspects, particularly on the molded seams.
"Looks to me it's about three, four times more complex to produce than most officer, knight, and heavy armors. More curious about the protection though, Helping Hoof spent more than an hour scribing runes on every component. Not much a surprise there, everypony knows he was Spiral's only protege."

>Slipping the helmet off, upon pulling the shoulders apart the seams release a number of heavily reinforced and nearly automated locking clamps, 30 in all, that were definitely based off the mechanical human concept.
>Trying to figure out whether they were magnetic or magical, the answer turns out to be: both, each featuring a minute electromagnetic field that only sealed when in direct contact with the opposites.
>Stepping into the cool interior and heaving it up with some difficulty, by the time you'd gotten your hands down into the gauntlets the exoskeleton's systems come online with a firm hum.
>Able to pull the entire suit up with ease now, the locking shoulder seams close with a thorough row of snapping sounds.

>Critically inspecting the entire process, Whiplash whistles supportively.
"Now that's what I wanted to see!"
Imminent Retrieval: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349524
349665
>>349520
'The omens greet you auspiciously this night Enginseer Castella. Oil the cogs and make ready the blessed incense for our Inquisitor desperately requires your aid.'
>And maybe a little bit forwards.

>Deciding on a course of action after viewing both you and Chisan, though with a bit of reserved suspicion to the second, the filly's flames dim into a subtle, slowly rolling orange-red coat
>The mane and tail follow suit, becoming a softy glowing white as the vault room's heat index quickly begins lowering.

'thank the Poneissiah, was going to hack his commbead and detonate it if negotiations failed. unlikely, more probable that Sunspots are created. there is a small possibility of one being reborn into such a state similar to several regional histories. stable plasma conduits highly likely given sufficient data.'
>Shutting off Phenon and Pheral, Tox-11's sourness is replaced by a firmly suggestive datatone.
'presumed is not confirmed enginseer. no further records were recovered. best news: there is a 99% likelihood each Sunspot is directly linked to Princess Celestia. witch verifies both use the same wavelengths of plasmatic emanation. and for now do not share that last thought i dont want to attempt speculating the potential self-detonation that could occur'
>The file contained nearly all known, or at least widely studied, Dark Age of Technology schematics, indexes, and estimates of Volkite and plasma systems, ranging from the smallest weapons to the largest reactors.
>Which, you noted with some amusement, Eldar star-grade weaponry scored higher marks than most everything the Imperium was once capable of producing.

>Less nerve-wracked now, and easing herself to behind your shield, Nashka mutters back.
"Not know age but sound young, nine? Ten maybe? Not hear of ponies like her ever.. maybe Sun let them sleep for politics? Lunar-Solar War terrible for all sides."

>Relaxing just enough to place a gloved hand on his left side, Chisan gives a subtle 'yes' nod in your direction, sub-vocalizing through the commbead.
*"Threat estimate lowered to one, successfully calmed for now, I.. think. I lack knowledge on equine facial expressions, ask for Witch-Two to correlate when able. Yes, do so slowly and ask the girl to do the same. Holster all weapons then come towards me, take my left and ask the girl to take my right. Mallia, Rescind all previous orders, I am now issuing a Priority Gamma-One-Zephyr."
>One of the most hated Inquisitorial directives, at least for the Guard you recall.
"If this pony is directly related to the Sun we must immediately do everything in our power to gain her trust with these exclusions: deceive and refuse aid."*

>Blinking from you to Chisan, then onto Nasiksta, the filly takes a deep breath that quickly turns into a yawn, mouth opening wide while her eyes close.
>No exhale of heat or plasma occurs, the Sunspot leaning backwards and falling on her rear with a subdued smack.
"Soooo.. what are you all here for? I mean, I know Twin HIll's been abandoned for a long time and nopony's tried to wake me up. All the furniture's probably gone so there's probably nothing left. Except all that old nasty and mean Guard stuff in the vaults, that's why they got locked away."

>Forcing himself to relax, Chisan's head turns a degree or two, mouthing 'what did you locate?'
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349527
349612
>>349474
"The ponies here at Razorback are... unique, to put it lightly. Anthelm and the woman will be tended to with the utmost care, so there's no need to be worried about the two."
>Though that 'care' might be the reason he'd be worried.
"Bubba Schmidt the Second, I'm a naval lieutenant from the United American States."
>Bubba rubbed his chin a bit, frowning.
"While we have no qualms with letting you three reside here for the foreseeable future, I'll admit I wouldn't know. If there are any that'll be urgent to follow through with, I'll let you know after looking it up."
>He paused for a moment.
"Though I don't know how we'll get it through to the Saxon, unless she speaks English or German. That'll be a roadblock we can figure out later."
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349530
349615
>>349523
"I used to fight them pretty often near my faction's base, even the military didn't really venture out of the dryer lands."
>He shifted on his heels, frowning softly.
"I'll give Freedom something, they're not 'holier than thou' like Duty sometimes is, and they like to just poke around the Warehouses after a blowout. Plus they keep the Monolith from overwhelming Rostok."

"We're... Not as advanced in camouflage as some other humans are. In the Zone it usually ends up with you getting shot for wearing it, since the Military is really the only one with any sort of pattern besides Freedom. And they just use it because they're sitting on a warehouse filled with uniforms, though modified to be brighter."
>Ivan blinked a bit at the mention of crystal tech, he really needed to see what was going on in the Workshop more often.

>Putting his musing to the side, he worked his way into the suit.
"Back home, exoskeletons were highly sought after. It turned the user into a walking tank, literally if the servomotors weren't modified to allow movement faster than a slog. Very good ballistic and rupture protection, and some models weren't half bad at anomalous protection either. Anything short of anti-materiel rounds, AP rounds, or anti-tank weapons will need dozens of rounds to get through."
>As the suit came online he would go through some diagnosis motions to ensure that it was functioning properly, stretching out his limbs and bending lightly.
>Picking up the helmet, he easily slipped and locked it on, grinning at being able to be inside one of these suits again.
"Now all I need is a PKM or some other heavy weapon!"
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.349566
349592
>>278776 →

>Lont could not help stop the slight grimace from forming at the corner of his mouth at Glacier telling him the number of Psions.
"That is...quite the number, I do not know how to feel about that information as I've had bad encounters with Psions back in my old world. Though it is good knowledge they held up good against the Constructs. And your fellow Shells of course."

>He shook his head at her apology, giving her a reassuring smile as he patted one of her hooves with the palm of his hand.
"No need to be sorry for no offence was given."

"I assume those nasty critters would like to take a bite out of me also, hmm.."
>"Better stay away from that place, I have tested my luck one too many times. If I were to go there there might be anyone to save me and I will truly die."
>The Operator kept his warm demeanour up as Galcier went on how Lucky died a terrible death, he hid the shiver going down his spine.
>"I think I might commission a statue to Lucky in the Fortress, it appears that is the only place in Equestria where she was appreciated..."
>This only reinforced his want for Lucky's right hand man to survive even more so now.

>Following her glance before settling back on her.
"Yes, lets. Enjoy the night and the food before it gets cold."
>He agreed with a deep rooted chortle.

>Lont nodded and enjoyed the theatrics, and when she had her nip of his food he brought it close to his face and sniffed it, before stuffing the rest in his mouth.
>This was not the worst or oddest thing he has eaten on Tallus, nor would it be the last he felt.
"Well then, eat up! Can't be beating down monstrous creations when a gust of wind can carry you away."
>With that, Lont offered a toast to Glacier with a new piece of hot food from his plate before getting stuck in.
>This certainly was a good meal to celebrate the end of what he has accomplished so far, and with a new friend to celebrate it with.
Northern Empire Tundra: The Melodine Conclave
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349592
349787
>>349566
"Different world, entirely different circumstances. Psions are exactly one-third the reason Constructs haven't taken this entire continent. Razorback needs to stop antagonizing them, otherwise.."
>Glancing at the earth pony being treated, the Shell's exterior ripples in a semblance of finality, leaving the unspoken suggestion hanging.
>Visibly flickering in concern, Glacier makes a small noise of acceptance.
"I apologize anyways. And yes, most native carnivore that's minotaur size or larger has little to no concern going after Otherworldlies, planar, Eldritch. That's how most infections started, some still haven't been contained even now. A few places in Saddle Arabia, parts of the Moors, about half the Hegemony, and three-quarters of Zebraica are the worst off that I know."
>Giving one last pat on your hand using a now-soft front hoof, Glacier returns the smile with an equally hearty one.
"I'd make it ten steps outside before giving up and rolling away. Normally I weigh a little less than that metal device of yours does. Tonight.. maybe half that."
>Snapping the remainder in half with her hooves, Shattered Glacier swallows each piece whole before reaching out for another.
>Clearly etiquette was different for them.

>Spearing a chunk of the curious blue heart and taking a bite, the savoriness was mixed with a tinge of cooler sweet Empire peppers.
>Simple fare was probably the norm here.
>Testing the blood soup it was a freshly blended reptilian and mammal mix brought to a low steady boil; salt, pepper, and something like horseradish though with an appreciably less bite giving the thick consistency necessary flavor.
>The steaks were the same save for a thin snowberry glaze, at which you had to stop and remember the Empire varieties weren't toxic unlike a few Equestrian strains.

>Keeping watch on the older Crystal mare's efforts while working through her own plate, Glacier pauses from selecting through another along with eight large glasses of crystalline gel delivered by a barely mature black robed filly.
"Shouldn't be taking him this long, I se-"

"Sorry about that Glacy, it took me a while to break free!"
>Came an unusually melodic, ringing voice from a mid-30's unicorn stallion behind you, one that had zero of the stiff formality most did.
"Half the Knights went off to round up supplies, others took prisoners, and none of them wanted to stop for reports."
>Almost silently sliding into view and making a stop, the speaker's appearance was, compared to nearly every ponies you'd seen so far, outlandish:
>A bit taller than Shattered Glacier was, the crystalline white-blue stallion was just as transparent albeit had the distinct Canterlot features of blunted muzzle and firm neck.
>Bright blue eyes study you for several seconds before turning towards the Champion, then to Glacier with a rueful smile.
"Had to authorize recruits for crystalwork to save time, you understand. And Good thing Belregard's offline, I hate dealing with him, takes hours to get anywhere other than orders this, orders that."
"I do, we're not in a rush for anything. This is my first real downtime in a couple weeks after all. You meet th-"
"No, but he might have seen me a couple times in the Spire."
>Turning to face you, the crystalline unicorn makes a short, lackadaisal bow, then makes a single barking laugh.
"You have my gratitude for keeping Tacit alive and Elezith from going berserk. Shining Armor, at your service, Former Prince.. very much former!"
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Arrive
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349595
349596 350667 351067
>Leadership: +2 to all Assault, Evasion, Ranged, Reaction Speed, & Sprint rolls
>PENALTY: -1 to all rolls from Operational Fatigue

>>281910
>Distorting the air around her Marshmallow Moon streaks into the charging Diamond Lance formation's center, leaving behind a quickly spreading realspace fracture directly into the Void.
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <?????
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12]
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16]
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]

>Forced to blink away from hundreds of tiny infused manabomb flashes impacting the Diamond Lance as they cross the line between the Basin's two southern buildings, the formation's last five members snap apart in wreaths of black and red mist.
[1dd100] <Honored Dispatch 1
[1dd100] <Honored Dispatch 2
[1dd100] <Honored Dispatch 3
[1dd100] <Honored Dispatch 4
[1dd100] <Honored Dispatch 5

>Sparing no time to examine they'd inflicted, all six of the teams dart around the builds to lay the dam of all ambushes: tossing large, pulsing manabombs, along with strange black plates that looked looked like mines, out in rows across the road.
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12] <Mixed Team #1 Ambush
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Mixed Team #2 Ambush
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <Mixed Team #3 Ambush
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <Mixed Team #4 Ambush
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Mixed Team #5 Ambush
[1d6+7 = (1+7) = 8] <Mixed Team #6 Ambush

>Undeterred from their straight line run, the seven-strong formation merges into a spearhead while the M2's handles clatter heavily in your hands, each burst piercing through successively smaller targets:
>The leader rips apart in splatters of greenish-black but is immediately replaced by a severely damaged Tainted Mass from the left, while an unseen one in the rear leaves a fractal bloodstain pattern that hangs in reality briefly; five remain that you could see.
[1d100 = 92] <Honored Dispatch 7
[1d100 = 7] <Honored Dispatch 8

>Landing atop the Viillage's south buildings was at least four dozen Cultists, each dropping saddlepacks before tossing small clusters of brightly colored marbles at the south.
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14] <Ambush #7
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17] <Ambush #8
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12] <Ambush #9
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17] <Ambush #10

>The remaining Hunter-Killers and the giant bloodhost land behind the Cultists, taking quick stock of their injuries
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Hunter-Killer Squadron 1
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <Hunter-Killer Squadron 2

>Behind the now Spearhead formation charging for the Dagor, aside from the ambushers at ground and rooftop level it was clear.
>That is right until the waves slacken to nothing on the Village's south side, revealing hundreds of orderly, now-solidified individual Tainted at a distance of perhaps 500M.
>While water creeps into the Basin at a trickling rate, there were nowhere near enough reinforcemarents to hold off that number.

>Sprinting around the single-minded formation southwards, Clemency easily catches up while the Tainted Masses slam into the Dagor, metal screeches accompanying their own silent self-harm.

>>281663
>Breaking out of the Void's now entirely unsafe spectrums, the intermittent stream of slugs puncture through the unstable Spearhead's leader, slowing down into the remaining three.
[1d100 = 99] <Honored Dispatch 9
>Replaced by a Mass in the shape of an armored lancer, while you evacuate from the fountain the formation solidifies briefly, ramming the Dagor northwards.
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Infliction Damage
[1d6 = 6] <

>Catching up to Jeff on a dead sprint, now with your right shoulder feeling miserably out of place, both of you reach the southwestern building as it had fewer teams operating behind it.
>An older Moorite batmare spares a glance your direction, then quickly digs into her satchel for a loudly humming white-hot sphere contained inside a thick, clear diamond casing: an unstable Plasma-infused manabomb.
>This was officially rewriting the definition of 'clusterfuck'.
"We're going to detonate everything we've got on the Tainted collecting south, set up whatever you can. Once that's done we're all pulling back to the northern road and setting up a battle line, we've got maybe a tenth the numbers the Primal says are needed. There's some insane cursed Crystal Knight coming to hold the line but that'll be a minute or two. Some of her Strikers are coming back to life, don't know or care how, and those bloodhost bats can't move 'til the Tainted are in range. Time's ticking just like this thing is-"
[1d6 = 1] <Stability
[1d6 = 1] <Corrections

>Several hundred feet south, reality bends as the Lunarites are freed from the Anchor.
[1d6 = 2] <Direction

>Primal Psion:
[1d6 = 3] <Mercy: Assistance
[1d6 = 3] <Sunny: Assistance
[1d6 = 1] <Reclaim Routed

[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <Moors Reinforcemarents
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Second Dynasty Reinforcemarents
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Watch Guard Reinforcemarents
[1d9 = 9] <Councilierge Reinforcemarent
[1d50 = 41] <Councilierge Vanguard
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349596
>>349595
[1d100 = 59] <Honored Dispatch 1
[1d100 = 30] <Honored Dispatch 2
[1d100 = 74] <Honored Dispatch 3
[1d100 = 22] <Honored Dispatch 4
[1d100 = 9] <Honored Dispatch 5
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Arrive
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349598
>>281663
>Receiving a slightly grainy view from the satellite, it was currently drifting outwards in an attempt to keep both Construct spheres in view.
>The cube was nowhere to be seen, though replacing it was an equally vast icosahedron studded in a number of Fortress-sized turrets.
>Conducting a brief damage overview it was clear the thorium reactor's transmission lines to the mass drivers had sustained severe damage by ordering it to fire twice in a row.
>Automatic shutdowns prevented the drivers from destruction, which left only the tactical laser system and two remaining missile racks fully operational.

>Overlaying the Basin, besides the mixed Cultist and Lunar unicorns slightly south, west, and east of you, multiple units of black Support Striker icons become yellow, slowly creeping north afterwards.
>Now five blips denote Hunter-Killer squadrons stationary above six fully blue Support Striker companeighs having taken over all four of the northern buildings.
>In Lann's shop were minute icons denoting Mercy and Sunny, the bright white General's icon before them flashing red before changing to silver.
>That was odd.
>Still slowly traveling south, the Conclave Killknight's icon pulses a bright blue-pink rotation.

>Catching your notice immediately, two tiny, blurred orange spheres by the Basin Village's translocation matrice were identified, the interior screen seperating them to display: "Unknown Construct 1" and "Unknown Construct 2".
[1d6 = 3] <#1 Reaction
[1d6 = 5] <#2 Reaction
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349604
349611 349933
>>349442
"Almost half of the crew being potential survivors is a relief."
>I sighed and gave the tiny Wild a smile. I'd pat it as well if it was real, but settled on the skipper.
"Unfortunately no, I haven't asked about them often."
>I grimace at being unable to recall anything about them.

"Yeah, I know. I still can protest about it though."
>Frowning, I glance up and stare at the overcast.
"Something's not right, Wild."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349609
349630
>>349522
>Nearly as soft as Nova, her coat was covered in a thin layer of earth-scented oils, Rasera's cheeks puffing out in a humorous motion.
>Definitely enjoying your contact based on the amused ear flicking and not attempting to pull back, the Neighpon's snout crinkles at her cheeks being rubbed.
"Is good of massage for meet, make friend, but of one side touch am not like, is better for be one to one."
>The sable Neighpon emits a small, merry exhale before reaching out to place her front hooves on your chest, making small circle motions.
"Most Equestria ponies am meet think of some touches be for of lewd things. Rasera say no shame when share for fun."
>Giving a furtive eyebrow wiggle, Rasera tips her head into your head while grinning broadly, visibly lacking any overt stressors.

>There was a severe difference between Nova Flicker's ultra-traditionalism, Frost Egg's duty-before-everything-else marener, and Rasera's comfortable at-will-for-fun attitude.
>Though, you had to remind yourself, each came from entirely different homelands and was trained in far different necessities.

>Fulling ignoring the mare crew boss shouting orders outside, the skinny sable mare lifts her hooves to place lightly on your shoulders.
>Eyes squinting for several seconds, Rasera purses her lips while taking on a warmly humored tone.
"Am no displease if human stallion want of make marefriend, but of careful be: some mare jealous, want share stallion with more mares."
[1d6 = 1] <Reaction
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
f15a16c
?
No.349611
349933
>>349604
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349612
349613
>>349527
>Showing a hint of relief at your answer, Volfgang relaxes further, hand reaching up to grip the K98's sling.
"My gratitude, again. I have little means to show my thanks but I will do what I can to act in service for Razorback, though I know little of Equestria's troubles or politics."
>Halfway to a salute, the winter sniper's expression blank out as he tries to process what you stated.
"The United.. what? Forgive my ignorance, but what are 'Americans'? Are they descended from the Siber land Khanate Kingdoms?"
>Yep, entirely different world, historical events included.
>Shoving his confusion aside, the older man's face loosens in relief.
"The Germaneighans-"
>Grimacing down another cringe at the awful pun.
"Required each of us to only give a signature a sworn oath of non-hostility to their land and inhabitants. Should it be necessary that I make an appearance to court or district administrator deliver me notice first, Anthelm has little patience or tact."
>Turning his head right, presumably to inspect Naliyna's now empty stall, the man's expression turns sour.
"No, she speaks only that language. My understanding of the archaic Saxon on my world and the old Saxoneigh of this world is that both align in phrasing and some phonetics. The few Black Forest unicorns we met had little difficulty understanding her intentions though it was a great task to translate specific meanings from hers to what they call Modern Germane."
>Lifting the free hand to adjust his hood, Volfgang releases a grumbling exhale.
"There are few problems other than her fascinations of invisible equine technologies and their.. soft exteriors. If those will not constitute difficulties here then I will do my utmost to ignore her proclivities."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
f15a16c
?
No.349613
349652
>>349612
"We don't have a Bavarian-Korean Empire, the closest would be Imperial Japan and the Third Reich of Germany working together. Our worlds are very different."
>He paused for a brief moment.
"Though we do have similar languages, at least. The United American States from my home is a single nation that's taken over the two continents that were found back in the 1300s, when Europeans believed the earth was flat and they had found India by sailing west."
>He gave a small shrug at his cringing.
"Yeah. The puns get on my nerves too."
>He rubbed his chin a bit.
"We'll likely be putting you to work once the three of you are up to it, simple stuff to start with until we can figure out everything."
>He let out a snort at his description of her actions.
"I doubt the ponies will dislike being pet. Nor someone who's fascinated by their magics"
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349615
349616
>>349530
>Whiplash's face moodily flickers in raw anger, both sets of wingclaws tightening in disgust.
"Can't say anything negative against that Ivan, everypony has some hatred for renegades, bandits, flankstabbers, traitors, you name it. Some might feel sorry for the ones that're raised and forced into stealing from others, but most won't raise a hoof to help them, except for foals. Even for us Lunars any foal raised by bandits or similar goes through a rather nasty selection process to weed out the most unreliable ones. We're not gentle, especially if dealing with Ferron."
>Giving you an appraising look, the Lunarite Claw's left eyebrow raises while lowering the other, one hoof lifting to rub her snout.
"So they're not like Las Pegasus. Don't fully understand what your words mean, but I'll say this much: I'm not a fan of those say 'freedom' means doing whatever somepony or someone likes, whenever they want. Much as I dislike the Day and Honor Guard for most of them shoving a thousand ton log up their collective asses, I hate the Las Pegasus Rogues way more since most of 'em think their lack of law means they can get away with whatever they feel like doing. I'm glad that the Freedom faction on your world sound more like Malurian naturalists and Druid researchers than some half-brained idiots thinking they can't be held accountable for their actions."
>If there was a batpony more serious than Torven, Whiplash was certainly in the front running.
>Or was that not-punning?

"Most ponies don't bother using camouflage paint except some Ferron in the southern Old or northern New Everfree. Translating into the Void or Overdark is what most of us do when needed. Still, a warehouse of stock uniforms sounds awful especially when I'm trying to equate your 'Zone' as being similar to the Moors."
>Tossing an aggrieved look towards the table where Spiral's unique furnace was kept, the Lunarite's attention returns to you with curiosity.
"Don't know what a 'servo' means. Sounds less like Construct stuff and more crystal-tech to me. Hegemony slab armor is considered to be the best for sheer protection but that's hard to move around in. As for armor penetrating there's a bunch of old style enchantmarents that were intended to puncture earth pony armors but those are mostly outclassed by minotaur arrows. Last few times I watched human weapons at the firing range there was a stallion with a big 'rifle', or whatever it's called. Dart went clear through two inches of hi-alloy steel and got lost in the stonework. Impressive yet insanely loud."
>Suppressing a bout of excitemarent, Whiplash Vines sits up straight before pointing at the Armory with a hoof.
"You mean those big automagical weapons some of Razorback love to talk about? There's a few older ones in there and some new stuff Naliyna brought in maybe half an hour ago. Also a bunch of papers attached ot 'em. Nal said she traded four hundred some thousand gems for a bunch of human weapons, supposedly they all came from a huge collection Canterlot Underground wasn't able to store."
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
f15a16c
?
No.349616
349654
>>349615
"We were able to get rid of most of those degenerates for a time, helped by a STALKER named Scar. Our faction... mostly disappeared after an incident, lost most of the command structure in the span of minutes to the Monolith."
>Ivan grimaced and shuffled his feet, kicking at non-existant dirt.
"Yeah, they've still got morals and rules to follow, like almost any other faction. They just don't want to destroy the Zone but let it exist, and with them so close to Rostok, Duty naturally takes offense to their existence."
>Ivan chuckled a little.
"Clear Sky's more like researchers than them, I'd kn-"
>Ivan immediately shut up and gained a stony look, placing his helmet on.

"The Military does not get much better in the way of uniforms. Only the Spetznaz get 'good equipment. Most poor bastards that are seen wear what can barely be qualified as body armor."
>He grunted and got on the ground, laying down for a moment before pushing himself back up
>"Should have kept my goddamn mouth shut."
"They're mechanical in nature, helps one move around in an exoskeleton. Modifications to them would result in me being able to run inside one of these when otherwise impossible."
>He rolled his shoulders and slid his PDA into a brace on his left arm, where there was a holding slot for it.
"Most rifles in the Zone have armor piercing rounds available, if more expensive than normal rounds. Designed to go through body armor like what I had before, you'd need to hit weakspots on an exoskeleton to do similar. Anti-Materiel rounds are much, much bigger rounds that don't care what you're wearing."
>He glanced over at the batpony and made his way over, giving a headpat in exchange for the information.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349630
349656
>>349609
>Witnessing Rasera's mild discomfort at his cheek-cupping hand, José opted to instead slide below her chin to properly scritch that as well
>Seems like holding cheeks may be more of a human-exclusive thing.
>However, it was impossible to ignore her overall pleased expression plastered across her face as she trailed circles around his unremarkably white t-shirt.
>Seems like petting back may be the natural response.
"So I'm touching you in an inappropriate way for some?" he'd softly ask with a light, longing pout, still continuing his tender ministrations. "Who usually thinks that way from your experience?"

>So his mind seems to have met the general spectrum of petting reception from what Gallo gathered.
>Frost told him to be careful, yet here he was, pampering the sable mare with a slightly gleeful devotion, always striving to further perfect his petting craft.
>But how was he supposed to know the consequences of his actions otherwise?
>Even as Rasera lightly placed her hooves on his shoulders, he found himself unwilling to really stop with his chin and ear scritching.
>Yet as she popped the question, the man felt a little chill run down his spine in a mix of wondrous hesitation.
"...how far would these jealous mares go to achieve their goal?" he tentatively asked. "I'm sure you can tell already I'm not really sure how any of this works, and I think I need to learn it before I find myself comitting a grave errror due to my ignorance."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349652
349653
>>349613
>Absorbing the information with an unsettled stare downwards, the man's next sentence gives the impression that he just gave up on life.
"I have never heard of either civilization. Next you will say the world you come from is not a Pangaea."
>Wasn't that going to be difficult to explain.
"At least their puns are whole-hearted and not often used for juvenile humor purposes."
>Returning to a loose parade rest, Volfgang nods sharply.
"Understood. I will do my utmost to integrate into the command structure here, and perhaps some of my knowledge of Germaneigh will be useful. Anthelm's aggression will suit close range assault or guard duties, he is relatively proficient at both. As for the girl I do not know."
>While she'd probably get along with most of the non-unicorn combatants in Razorback, the language barrier and potential archaic traditions would make that process slow.

>Frowning at the last word you use, he gives up again, becoming nothing more than the hollow shell his profession normally causes.
"They do seem to enjoy a.. disturbing, I suppose, degree of physical contact. Nonetheless I must check on the trouble makers. Should you require my expertise notify me."
>Snapping-to for a crisp salute, he stops halfway, settling for a less formal version before about facing to walk out of the pagoda.

>And once again, besides the sound of heavy clothing rustling in the cold air, it was silent.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349653
349659
>>349652
"Well, not anymore. For us it broke up over the course of tens of millions of years to form seven smaller landmasses, two of which are under control of the UAS."
>Alternate Earths were fun to deal with.
"I'll certainly give you a friendly warning, most if not all of the other humans are definitely from different planets than either of us. From what I can tell, being here is a 'one per timeline' deal."
>He nodded and made it a point to glance at his arm sling.
"Once you're fully healed. Being injured is something to not take lightly, Volfgang. Get checked out before you attempt to take up any duties."
>"And don't let them molest you. Much."
>He let that go unsaid.

"I'll swing by in a bit to see how the two are doing, once the medics tend to them. And I'll let you know about what needs to be done for staying here by tomorrow."
>He gives a salute in return, before sitting back on the table after he was left alone.
"I just wanted to be a fucking admiral, goddamnit."
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349654
349655
>>349616
"Ain't that the story of most factions? Fun times only last for a few seconds, then the mess starts, blood flows, and graves are dug for the lucky ones."
>Face tightening at the unexpected information, Whiplash offers a subdued smile of encouragemarent, visibly letting the topic drop.
>Eyes swiveling about to eye the vest you'd had on, then the exo, she flicks two mollified wingclaws at both.
"Wait, you mean armor isn't prevalent on your world? What do humans fight in then, field uniforms? And that does remind me, there's a real old unit called the Nachtspaz. Some holdovers from Rusha and Germaneighan, volunteers that assisted Luna. They're marecenaries that take on missions in Saddle Arabia, usually near the Zebra Autonomous Border, but I don't hear much about them. Supposedly they were allowed to keep a few of the nastiest weapons and armors even the Lunar Guardians wanted to lock away."
>Peering at the device and recognizing it as close enough to a cell phone, the Lunarite's ears flatten as she tries to comprehend.

>To your surprise, the internal display was a thoroughly new electronic suite, probably Helping Hoof's work given his former relationship to Spiral.
>Transparent overlays on the composite lenses, much larger than any designs you'd seen in the Zone, provided a fair amount of viewing angle, along with internal and external monitoring systems.
>A thoroughly miniaturized and EMP hardened radio system, temperature control system, an equivalent to Generation 3 night vision suite, and last a backup LED flashlight, all vocally controlled.
>Even more interesting was the 'Anomalous Protection System', which probably required you to issue an order.
>What it did lack was visible air filtration, though the sound of an air intake-exhaust system behind your head was a relief.

"Thought they looked a lot like non-magical prosthetics. Those are pretty rare. Some groups in Empire make unpowered ones but those are special request only. So, Nal was replacing those-"
>Pointing a hoof at the various piles.
"Helping and Krinza pulled out with that crystal rope stuff which makes it move. Huh, starting to understand now. Heard a lot about human tech, just not been piecing the knowledge together. Or use. In emergencies we have access to some arcane selections in the Enclave, less complications that way than trying to adapt human tech to us."
>Taking a short break from thinking to eye the exo once more, Whiplash affects a somewhat critical expression.
"I can imagine a few of the Hegemony's more recent piercing arrow designs might eventually go through, with enough localized damage, but that really doesn't look like it has any hard weaknesses. Other than being a bit slow, but with a shield, heavy weaponry.. kinda makes me wish I had something like that. Then again room in our tents is pretty limited."
>Mildly surprised at the pat, which you noted could be felt, probably from a feedback system embedded in the interior mixed cloth, Whiplash gives a satisfied grin.
"Dunno what that was for but thanks! I better go now though, it's late and I'll have to turn in a couple reports, don't need the Nightclaws irritated any more than they already are. Take care!"
>Tossing a short winged salute, the Lunarite stands quickly, spinning about and winging into the air towards the exit door.
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349655
349662
>>349654
"Most rookies are lucky to get one of those Sunrise suits I have there."
>He pointed to the removed body suit with an armored boot.
"The military gets 'body armor that's lucky to stop a pistol round, and does fuck all for anomaly protection. Most new STALKERs that don't sign up for Freedom or Duty get to make due with leather jackets that don't do much other than keep one warm."
>He chuckled a little.
"And yeah, aside from some metal plate inserts on vests, we pretty much do just wear field uniforms to fight in."
>He noticed her glancing at his PDA and showed off the map of the Zone he had stored on it.
"It's a PDA, keeps track of information for me. I have the Zone mapped out, as well as the locations of static anomalies. There's a list of artefacts and mutants on it as well, along with information on the various factions. Biased, but it's something."
>He hummed for a moment.
"Think of it like an encyclopedia and atlas. I think that's what they're called in English."

>He gave her a nod in reply, folding his arms over his chest.
"Well, at least the batteries didn't detonate from being close to one of them. Hopefully, they've got pieces of artefacts inside to help power them."
>He shifted an arm to glance it over.
"They removed most of the weaknesses, actually. The servos and the original design, the latter having a bit of a 'shot trap that led to people getting injured from otherwise harmless rounds."
>"That's definitely new, though."
"See you later, maybe."
>He gave a small salute before frowning behind his mask, wondering what to do next for a brief moment.
>Quickly deciding on his new duty of acquiring a heavy gun, he left as well.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349656
349658
>>349630
>Eyebrows raised, Rasera's eyes roll immediately afterwards with a blithe tone.
"So of say some Equestria ponies. Old world ponies think less of, better to make friend. Hard say of some but Rasera know Rushyans no space have, will hug enemies before battle."

>At least the translator was self-correcting given the more complex words.

>Making a faux-pouting face, the mare's ears flick around humorously before huffing, starting to speak but is cut off by nearly all the dragon-spirits loudly shout-hissing.. at each other.
>The orb emits a strained crackling noise, then is silent
>Expression flat and for the first time angered, her shoulders lift in a defeated shrug while shaking her head.
"No angry at you, is debate of why diplomat not trained know how herd touches differ from ones for fun. Am show common pony ones before scrolls come out."
>Removing the left hoof from your shoulder and placing it on the same side's knee, her snout twitches merrily.
"Is comfort spot for good friends."
>Head bending down and tapping both sides of her neck, the translated words increase by several decibels.
"Quick touch sides for greet, hold show dominance."
>Moving the hoof onto your left hip, then off after a few seconds, she tosses a quick scowl at the closest one, just so happening to be her ponial scribe whom instantly quiets.
"Here is for show claim of, no use unless be lovers or in herd. You quiet, am teach before others!"
>Chortling briefly and returning to the impromptu lesson, Rasera's eyes half close in thought.
"Hold saddle tight is for lovers only, brush saddle for calm. Hold hoof short time is greet, medium time show good friends. But, hold hoof long time for lovers only, no do unless seriuos. Touch head for fun, calm. Touch ears.. show interest, or for calm too but careful be. No touch flank of not lover, is insult. Unless in danger. Same for Mark, that private touch for full trust. May touch front legs for calm, be good friends. Nose.."
>Staring down at hers twitching contemplatively, Rasera gives a mild snort.
"Is sensitive but easy hurt. Poke light for fun surprise! Or for prank. Poke medium, may come back from bad thoughts. Hit hard for of stun."

>Rough equivalents to human social contact standards you realize, though carrying far more biological context.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349658
349664
>>349656
>Hugging enemies before battle?
>Seems like that would've been a rough first impression if he had the opportunity.

>Gallo briefly looked up at the bickering happening above, getting a little concerned until Rasera explained the reason behind it, which soon caused him to stifle a chuckle.
>The man wordlessly kept his rapt attention at the sable mare's explanation as the arguing went to the back of his mind.
>His mind was quickly catalouging them into their neat little bundles of relationship status.
(Greet with neck touching, quick hoof holding, possibly poking snouts lightly...)
(Good pony friends will lay on my knees, hold hooves for a little longer than the usual greeting or possibly allow me to touch their front legs...)
(Stake ownership claim by holding them for longer, lay hands on her sides or saddle, which I think are their backs... Hold the sides of their necks for general dominance...)
(Booping snouts are for surprises or pranks... Very sensitive...)
(Do not touch flanks or mark unless absolutely necessary or in a relationship full of trust... Insulting otherwise...)

>After a few seconds, José's idly scritching hands soon removed themselves from Rasera as he smiled brightly.
"I greatly appreciate your help, miss Rasera," the man happily thanked the mare. "Perhaps I can repay your great kindness by..."
>Gallo soon felt the primal urge to explore the limits lined down upon him.
>He had to go deeper
"...combing your mane and filing your hooves," he finished off after a little pause. "I'm sure a hardworking and dutiful mare such as yourself would enjoy some personal grooming. I'll need your tools for the job, however."
>The man would promptly wait a little while Rasera replied before his finger lightly booped her snout, now fully cognizant of the consequences and wondering how she'd personally react.
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349659
349702
>>349653
>Receiving a distinct 'Understood' from the man you do a double take at realizing the sling was useless, likely the result of an overzealous medic since he hadn't shown much distress using it.

>One of the Vortex Remnant's eyes, this one a faded limestone, raises to stare at you while speaking in a gravelly, multi-voiced tone of fascination.
"These units know that you have encountered the archaic sea-based vessel within the reactivated Enclave. The Lunar faction gained their prominence during the Second Economic War due to trade expansion efforts. Militarizing their large transport vessels was a logical motion forwards. Restoring that unit and issuing command would grant the equine equivalent of their now unused Admareal rank. Notice: Captain Shanis of Tartarus Isle has made over six hundred worldwide requests for seafaring combat vessels to operate in Saddle Arabia and the Moors."
>It blinks once.
"Your request is fulfilled."
Razorback Fortress: The Armory
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349662
349708 349853
>>349655
>Receiving a final noise from the batpony Claw before closing the Workshop's north man door, there was a slowly dawning realization that Whiplash would remember most of what you'd stated so far.
>If she weren't a Moon-born you could have ensured zero complications might occur.
>Oh well.

>Moving to the Armory door with little difficulty aside from now being a quarter-ton armored gorilla, there was indeed a fully serviceable bio-receptive and feedback system.
>Pulling the human styled handle down and opening, you could feel the hardened steel through the armored semi-flexible gauntlets as if they were thin leather gloves.
>There was most definitely some added cost, but at least you weren't directly paying for it.
>Maybe.

>Finding the Armory's interior completely reorganized, there were now at least another eighty hardened steel lockers covering the walls, the newer ones brand new and clearly of Bren's exacting make.
>As usual the tables were overburdened with substandard kit and gear that Krinza's recycling efforts hadn't reached, though two of the central tables catch your attention.
>Winding around the rows to take a closer look were a selection of neatly placed firearms, the most prominent one being Hollow's older M60.
>Next to that was a brand new (at least to you) FG-42C followed by a bizarre shotgun: a Pancor Jackhammer.
>You recall this to have been a complete failure on your world, though the design changes and extra magazines gave it the impression of being a mass produced version.
>A larger, more futuristic looking FG derivative was next in sries, then a heavy Steyr Mannlicher IWS 2000, an original Sturmgewehr 44, a hunting styled TOZ-23, an astoundingly well preserved Tula Arms Groza, a Browning M1918A in decent shape, and last was an odd M4 derivative that looked to be using .45ACP.
>But why.

>Separate from the previous was a line of far more advanced weapons with pages underneath each, presumably explaining what they were and the likely Eras they originated fromt.
>Underneath each was a small crystal placard written in Naliyna's Common Equestrian warning all humans not to touch anything unless said human knew that doing so was safe.
>The first was absolute monster of a rifle, something that you knew even your exoskeleton wasn't capable of lifting let alone using, listed as 'Early Orbital Era'.
>A cartridge next to it turns out to be insanely long 23MM variant, though the 'bullet' itself turns out to be a something called a 'metastable fragmenting rod'.
>Definitely not one you could risk.

>Second in the series was a heavily modified G11 descendant, the few ammunition blocks next to it advanced enough to be from an entirely different timeline.
>This one was listed as 'Late Information Age', but the hardware and blocks weren't even remotely familiar.

>Third and fourth were two baffling weapons: a remarkable high-tech pistol with an unusually long barrel, though without any attachment points, then a double-barreled heavy machine gun that would be the centerpiece of a science fiction movie set a couple hundred years in the future.
>Both were listed as 'Unknown Era',

>Fifth was a hyper-advanced FG descendant, and failing to understand the alloys or extremely precise engineering, the 'Early Orbital Era' warning sign ruled that one out.

>Last was the most bizarre weapon yet: little more than a series of coils wound around a 3" black barrel, four prongs on the end that had a discreetly electrical design, a large, although damaged battery unit, and a roughly heavy machine gun body supported by a heavy three-point sling.
>Definitely not meant for long range.
>Worse yet was the 'Advanced Early Information Era' placard under it, which, along with the vaguely German engineering, made your skin crawl a bit.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349664
349701
>>349658
>Displaying every known equine indication that she wanted to wreak vocal havoc upon the dragon-spirits, among a few that were distinctly non-human, Rasera lets the anger out with a slow, even exhale.
>Leaving them to their arguing with sincere aplomb, her head tips forwards curiously-
>Then breaks into a low, squeaky giggling fit at the snootleboop.
>Unlike Nova and Tipper however, Rasera's eyes don't cross, instead lifting a hoof that, gently, sticks to your hand before letting it go.
>Head dipping slightly in a respectful motion, the mare's relish is evident from a wide open smile.
"Is great to offer but-"
>Tossing her loose flowing mane with a small shake, it had been recently taken care of judging by the shine, probably done by the dragon-spirits considering their ultra-specialized roles.
>Lifting her hooves to show off intricate, tiny patterns of file marks in the shape of either a stream or some local meaning, Rasera's snout wriggles bemusedly as the previously loud arguing starts to settle.
"Spirits no like pony look rough, am of taken care hour by hour. Am of marely thanks to offer but of diplomat Rasera not allow to.. do 'things with', if say right. It not law. Cavalier clan trade make easy for of be neutral."
>Eyes narrowing briefly in a mood akin to annoyance, the Neighpon's next word is interrupted by a sequence of heavy impacts to the north causing small ground tremors.
>The tent's walls shake briefly as do some of the futon stacks, causing her to frown at the entrance.

"That was perfect! Even if I didn't help much!"
>A younger mare's excited shouting was followed by a tired mid-40's stallion, most likely a unicorn judging by the flat, formal tone.
"Calm down for once in your life. ..least none of the large sections cracked. Bren, help me adjust the south steps please, don't want them being a tripping hazard."
"Bah, you three worry too much! Oh, we can get most of the furniture outta the Enclave now!"
"Ya do realize this projec' cos' Razorback a hunnerd thirty-thousan' Bits, right? If t'ain't perfec' we're gonna redo it'all."
>The third voice was a hard, firm, yet tired older mare, also unicorn.
"Duh, otherwise we wouldn't have been pulling double shifts for four months in a row! And that was perfect, all the stones are touching line. By the way are Naliyna's house and workshop ready? Split and Muse got the tables ready before we started and I bet she's real tired of waiting around!"
"Not yet. We'll triple check the power crystals she chose to use, last problem we need is one of them exploding. New last problem: none of us want our snouts getting stomped on."
>Another voice similar to the second, this one's inflection lackadaisical.

>Silent and still throughout the exchange, Rasera gives the scribe spirit, then you, a rather puzzled look appearing.
"Lots work for new homes.. four month? Why so long time?"
>The questions were, of course, superfluous.
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.349665
349674
>>349524
>Replying to the Machine Spirit with a positively ecstatic emotional ping, Mallia processes the Auspex's statement for a couple nano-cycles, before she inadvertently smiles with a cheer that doesn't quite fit the situation at hand.
>This is followed by a somber but warm devotion as she replied:
(I hear you, blessed machine spirit...)
(Alas, what can a lowly, diminished, and flawed Enginseer do for one so resourceful and powerful as Inquisitor Velasi Aguinas?)
(From the bottom of my weak biological heart, I can only pledge that I will do my very best.)

>As Mallia has this (very brief) exchange with the Inquistorial Auspex, she acknowledges Chisan's affirmative nod as her hands go up to her chin to begin loosening the chin strap and the matte black face mask of the flak helmet.
>Within short order, her helmet is gently lifted from her head and held protectively in her arms against her middle.
>Her bright blue eyes darted as if rapidly sifting through trains of thought, and her smile was ever so slightly pursed into her rosy, soft cheeks a bit flushed, contrasting somewhat with the otherwise pallid skin complexion on her gentle face.
>Locks of auburn hair fall a bit over her forehead and down over the tops of her ears, looking as disheveled and unkept as ever,. She doesn't bother to fix her hair from how it was, even if it was uncomfortably tangled.

>She calmly made a motion to turn more towards Nasiksta who was still behind her when she seemed to stop for about a full second, eyes widening slightly as she hangs up on something.
(--VOLKITE!--)
(--Huh!)
>The excitement reaches a peak, and she could be caught squeezing onto the flak helmet she was holding onto like a child hugging onto a toy, causing a little tiny wiggle that made her Mechanicus robes flutter slightly.
>So excited infact that calling the Omnissiah the 'Poneissiah' completely slips by her in the moment.
>Then, she double-take, catching herself before this excitement became too overt. Brow furrowing as she ATTEMPTS to resume seriousness.

(Woops.)
(But--uhhh, yes, I understand, Adronal.)
(There's so much... Stuff!)

>Mallia, for herself, didn't seem to mind the Gamma-One-Zephyr directive in the moment.
>The ponies were great!, as far as xenos went. Better than what she knows about at least.
"Ten is a good estimate... Though I don't know Sun that well to speculate on the other question..."
>Whispering back to Nashka after a small delay, she resumed her movement, Mallia's bright eyes go to Nasiksta finally with that sunny smile of hers.
"... But, hey, now we get to make friends with a real Sunspot...!"

>Mallia beamed, her tentacular mechadendrite poking out from around her side and vaguely pointed towards Naska's helmet with it's steely pincers, making a little motion in Chisan's general direction..
"Quick, take off the helmet. Aaand~ go stand by Chisan's right side, I'll go on his left. That's how he wants us..."
>With a rapid self-nodnod, she lingers briefly near Naskha long enough to see if she was actually comfortable with beside Chisan. Not leaving her side until Nashka moved.

>Though she did cast a side-eye towards Chisan, enough to notice his gaze going to her and that mouthing.
>The Enginseer blinks once...

(... Huh. Admiral Dranaki, I believe the Stormtrooper needs some help correlating expressions. Could you help with that?)

(Also. Admiral. Please. I would like it be relayed that there is one heat signature which is directly and precisely the same as that of the Construct we fought not too long ago. I believe it could be one of it's micro-plasma reactors, or something that generates as much heat as one. Some simply struck me as micro-plasma reactors as well? Active and on stand-by.)
(Definitely a Reliquary for dangerous, possibly questionable items.)
(If the Sunspot says the Guard got locked away for it, then it must be some serious stuff...)

>At the same time, Mallia furrowed her brow and mouths back with 'xenotech. something construct'.
>She looks to the Sunspot, staring at them with an eager gleam in her eyes.

(... I wonder. If I... Pat this one. Will I lose my hand...)
Imminent Retrieval: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349674
349844
>>349665
'You are diminished only in body Enginseer, not in mind, spirit, or purpose. Remember that. With time, or perhaps outside of time, you will recover the first. Powerful as our Inquisitor may be for short periods in realtime, she shares the same faults and flaws that all Ordo Chronos and humans have.'
>The machine-spirit's subtle datatone renders out as 'scoffing'.
'Many say the flesh is weak. Some say the human heart is weak. Through a million reams of dataslates I have determined both statements to be false. As this time I must continue to study relevant data from the chroniton scans, there are many locks that must be carefully picked.'

>Trying not to make any sudden movements besides you, or moving at all outside of breathing, Naskha continues her watch on the non-hostile Sunspot.
>For its part, the plasma-based pegasus filly takes a few seconds to give you and the rather poorly equipped girl several appraising examinations each.
>Now that she wasn't trying to cook the room, the blue eyes were.. familiar.
>You couldn't place where from, exactly.

'data confirmed mallia. this Sunspot is a 96.3% match for the self-regenerating plasma fields emitted by Princess Celestia. remaining deviations are due to sapient control. threat level zero'
>The heavyset Guardsman ASCII returns, this time holding his chin in thought.
'understood, i will limit information uplinks to specific and relevant information in the future. still, we are missing a near-millenia worth chunk of history and i doubt she feels like talking much. so long as Chisan doesnt cock this situation up ill give him a passing grade'

>Carefully pushing her boxy weapon back once again to keep it out of sight, the Vostrayan predecessor gives you a small grin.
"Know pony ages well, I play with Fortress marefriends and they fillies often. If Sunspot friend then.. guess can play with her too."
>Blinking at the mechadendrite's motions, Nasiksta struggles to understand it before mouthing 'oh'.
>Nodding in firm acknowledgement of the order, she slowly reaches up with one hand to remove the shoddy steel helmet, exposing rather unruly almond brown hair in the process, then reaches back to place the chin strap on a protruding canteen.
>Hands free, the girl takes a hesitant step forwards, and upon not being incinerated another, though keeps a slow pace to reach Chisan's left side, albeit behind him a full step.
>As you do the same, upon stopping at Chisan's right whom makes a slight nod in your direction, Witch-Two delivers a near-laughing datum packet.
'Even during the wildest Gellar field failures I never could have dreamed of instructing a sanctioned Storm Trooper on the body language of an equine xenos made from living plasma!'
>The thought was terribly amusing, and would have caused short circuits in nearly every Magos throughout the Imperium.
'A Construct heat signature? That would account for this location's enhanced protection schemes. The chance of that vault being a postwar Reliquary is now 100%, but I am curious as to why one would be allowed to remain in a functional state. All but one record the Inquisitor has on Constructs states complete destruction of the entire unit is required, including the orange liquid. A more thorough investigation will be necessary, but at a later date. My thanks for the information Mallia, this entire mission has produced a wealth of critical data.'

>Head fully swiveling to stare at you with the eyes of a Guardsman that was just told they were being sent to a paradise world, the Scion's jaw drops in open shock.
>That was.. unusual.
>Recovering, but only partially, Chisan's hands raise, thumbs hooking into the combat webbing belt as he contemplates on how best to answer the Sunspot's question.
>You note a painful stiffness whenever the left side of his chest moves though.
"Three weeks prior to now a missive was delivered from a royal in New Canterlot. It was sent by-"
"Underprincess Prima Aurdestin."
>Head turning to offer Nashka a thankful look at covering his ass, the Storm Trooper takes a half-step backwards into an easy stance, the motion heavily choreographed to display neither aggression nor distrust.
"Stated Twin Hill had been long abandoned and that Razorback Company was welcome to salvage all materials we needed, including any items left behind."
>The unspoken 'and the vaults' was blatantly obvious, though the filly showed no sign of concern, instead focusing on something else entirely.
"Oh, a razorback, those giant pigs with sharp blades on them in the Everfree?"
"That is correct. The boar is a symbol of strength in certain cultures, and endurance to others."
"I get it now. I don't know that name probably since I've been napping for so long, but the title means she's a living descendant of mom."
"May I know the name of your.. dam?"
"Celestia! Well, sort of. She made my and me sisters a long time ago. Most ponies add the 'Princess' part but that's boring."
>At this Chisan, struggling to find any common ground, or get anywhere useful, puts down the slight movement leading to an Earthshaker-class facepalm.
"I do not mean to offend you by asking this, but are you concerned that six hundred or more years have passed and you know little of what Equestria is like?"
>Wings fluttering from her sides into a relaxed state, the Sunspot's head lifts, squinting at the ceiling briefly, then giggles in an echoing tone while shaking her head.
"Nope! And I'm not offended. This probably sounds real weird 'cause mom made us, but I'm still a filly. A few of my sisters aged by staying awake all the time. They didn't change a whole lot, just got older and smarter. There's a lot of history I could tell you but some of it I.. really don't want to think about."

>Now hopelessly lost, Chisan gives an almost pleading look towards you.
*"I am outclassed even with Witch-Two's support. Please assist me, Enginseer."*

'Go ahead Mallia. Temperature reads stable at one hundred degrees. Move slowly and talk to her. High likelihood she will respond favorably.'
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349701
349752
>>349664
>José chuckled along with her boop-induced giggle, glad to see her all happy about the touch.
>It admittedly deflated a little as Rasera showed off her pristine mane and intricately filed hooves, yet he stared on in awe as she explained the dragon-spirits' work and her reservations for getting too friendly with him.

>As he was about to answer, the man stopped at all the commotion outside, looking towards the tent's entrance.
>Seems like the lack of homes was really being addressed as he had his quality time with Rasera.
>He would appreciate it if it didn't constantly rumble the earth and cause all that crashing outside, though.
>Despite his calm demeanor, he was still rather exhausted.

>With a small inhale of his nostrils, he soon turned back towards the mare in the tent with an understanding smile.
"It would seem there is a rather big home shortage in the compound," he answered succinctly, subtly accepting her previous decision.
>A small yawn soon tries escaping his lips, covering them with a hand.
"Could I sleep here in your futon after all construction is done?" he'd politely ask in turn. "I'll probably go have a chat with them to see if they can give me a room to go along with it."
>Whether there is a resounding affirmative or a polite decline, the man soon gave her a nod and a light stroke across the side of her neck before starting to put his clothes and equipment back on.
>Perhaps he should also figure out where the mareguards are at in Tallus, too.
>Regardless, he'd soon step off the tent and look for that construction team making all this ruckus, intent on having a chat with them as well.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349702
349753 349754
>>349659
>Bubba could only stare at the Vortex Remnant as it replied to his idle bitching at his situation.
"You fucking what."
>He could only sigh in aggravation and bring his hands up to his face, rubbing it and wondering where in his life he went wrong to deserve this punishmarent.
>He abruptly gets up and leaves the Pagoda before more of this world's bullshit could arrive to mess with him.
"Too fucking old for this shit."
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349708
349853
>>349662
>"It'll be fine."
>Probably.

>Taking a bit of time to make sure there were no kinks in the motor controls, Ivan ambled on over to the Armory, making sure he could at least walk in the suit.
>Jogging would come at a later time, when he wasn't focused on acquiring a PKM or somesuch.

>As Ivan stepped in he'd make his way over to the tables first, eyeing them up curiously.
>He left the M60 alone for the time being, aside from glancing it over briefly, to focus on the monstrosity in front of him.
"Why the fuck is a Pancor here."
>Even with someone raised in Eastern Europe, he knew what it was.
>He's played Wasteland, after all. The irony of which doesn't go by him unnoticed.
>His eyebrows do shoot up once he comes across the IWS 2000, letting out a low whistle.
"What I would've done for you back in the Zone."
>He mumbled, running a hand over it.
>Then moving over the M1918A, he'd pick it up and examine it better, before moving over to the more curious weaponry.

>He'd know better than to try and use any of the advanced weaponry in front of him, as even if he could, he wouldn't know how to properly operate any of them, so he left them be.
>especially the last one.
Razorback Fortress: Northwest Courtyard
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349752
349755
>>349701
>Rasera's head tips down, blankly looking at the futon until snapping up to look at her scribe.
"If could trade more maybe Razorback allow space for lodge-"
>The dragon-spirit unrolls its scroll and settles into a comfortable floating position, holding four black tinted claws over the center.
>The Neighpon speaks several questions that weren't translated, which the dragon-spirit rapidly scratches onto the page.

>Shifting back to sit up straight, Rasera nods with a pleasant smile, head swiveling about to survey her followers.
"If human find no more bed, what spirits say?"
>The majority lift their right thumbs, if possible, or raise their weapons and objects upwards.
>The remainder however shrug.
>Either they didn't care or the majority ruled.
"Is yes. "
>Nudging your hand in return, the mare's eyes bat once in faux-demure humor, snout scrunching merrily.
"Have good of sleep when you find it."
>Apparently not considering clothing on or off to be lewd, Rasera's attention goes back to the scribe, untranslated questions and statemarents trailing your wake.

>Exiting the tent and turning north, it takes less than a second for your eyes to be accosted by after-images of furniture appearing from five tall, dark purple doorways.
>Ten pegasi and four earth ponies of mixed colorations watch a procession being directed by four unicorns, two red, one ochre, the last covered by an off-white robe.
>Dozens of tall human styled lockers, unpainted steel you note, are followed by desks, cabinets, and several chests, most of which were tall enough for humans to use comfortably.
>Then comes a selection of short and medium height couches, benches, sofas, loveseats, tables, chairs, and last a small number of fully furnished beds,
>Not able to catch what the unicorns were stating in their own aery, slightly snooty language, brief popping sounds occur as each disappears in transit.
'That's it fer these?"
"Yep. So far as I know there's no more mattresses left in the Enclave unless somepony hid a few."
"Naw, Ah told th'Starborn ta take a few fer theyselves an'a couple extras. Maybe Lann's got 'nuff material fer a few more?"
"Not tonight, she said that she'll need a complete restock."
>The entire group falls silent at the lackadaisical unicorn's words before the crew boss speaks up.
>Furiously.
"A FULL restock?! 'ow'd she marenage ta use ten thousan'Bits o'materials in less'n a week?! She 'ad me make room in th'Workshop attic fer a hunnerd rolls'a stuff last month an'now she needs more?!!"
"Calm down for a-"
"Ya go-"
"You never take stock of how many humans are here, do you?"
>Interjects an obnoxiously chipper earth mare.
"Not always, naw. Why?"
"You met the eleven humans that've shown up in the past two nights? Not to mention there's over two hundred and sixty here right now."
"Wait, wha? 'ow many?"
"Eleven, six last night, five tonight. Two hundred sixty living here so far."
"...shit. Okay, mebbe Ah'm jes'a little flus'ered."
"Then change your tune for a while, one of the new arrivals is standing behind you fifteen paces looking half dead on his feet. Greetings there, how can we help you?"
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349753
>>349702
[1d31 = 24] <Razorback Fortress Wandering!
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349754
349925
>>349702
>Surprised, and a tad discouraged by your words, the sandstone eye sinks back into the stone.

>Leaving the Pagoda and picking a random direction, which turns out to be right, the comfortable, though rather cold, silence continues.
>Strolling towards the second-largest building in view, the ironically named Batcave that Jeff and Belltower shared was on full view in red moonlight.
>Giving it a few looks over and deciding that neither pony, human, nor other was about to interrupt, you pick a reasonably comfortable section of the west stone wall to lean against.

>Despite the number of Bren's dome-capped miniature fortifications around the Fortress, the silence was less comforting and more an indication of the serious threats Razorback was now facing.
[1d6 = 1] <Reaction?
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349755
349756
>>349752
>Despite walking off the tent with a content smile, Gallo's mind soon conjured up images of Rasera all huddled up next to him, gently breathing in and out as they both laid on a fully made bed.
>His rational mind quickly reassured himself he admired his work ethic and trading prowess to quell what seemed to be a hasty decision.
>He didn't know her personally, nor even met any of her friends and family.
>How could he so willingly step into a relationship like that, even if she professed to be all about free cuddles for fun?
>...yet his imagination still ran with it for a little while longer...

>Soon blinking off the grogginess for just a little while, the man listened intently as the six ponies had their lengthy chat.
>The man his pace was slow and steady, not wishing to tempt fate by putting anything to trip him up during this vulnerable, sleepy state.
>He may unintentionally disrespect others.
>One of his hands casually went up in a simple greeting before getting up close to the group of workers supervising the furniture moving.
"Good day, everypony," the man verbally greeted, first gauing if they were busy before doing any more elaborate practices. "How is work coming along?"
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349756
349760
>>349755
>All except one pegasus separates from the group, leaping up to fly north checking out the new.. underground barracks.
>A row of five you notice, the top stone wall of each about one foot above level ground.
>Which brought up the question of where the vast amounts of soil were now.
>And what would replace windows.

>Turning about to face you, the ochre unicorn mare's head tips up to examine you briefly before giving a stressed grunt.
"Laihke shit. Ain'got half 'nuff beds fer every 'uman 'ere an' cain't get ahol'a more this late 'less Ah wanna go ta some big city, thas th'last thang Ah wanna do. Thet Ja-po-neighse mare's got nuthin' big 'nuff fer 'umans, but alla ponies needin' a bed's got one from 'er. Name's Tenbren or Bren, whichever y'care ta say."
>Swiveling about to eye the offensively cheery earth pony clacking down into the first wide open pit, the crew boss nods towards the five most recent arrivals.
"Beds fer 'bout eighty 'umans 'ere. These ones s'posed ta be fer th'Veteran ranks, an' those-"
>A hoof raises to point at three more of the underground style, directly south of the original three you remember from arriving.
"S'posed ta be fer Mercenary ranks. They's three more northa th'Mess Hall fer Rookies an'such, keeps 'em safer an' close ta food."
>Motioning south towards the Pagoda, another two rows of three were east to west, then northwest at the faint images of an additional trio aligned north to south.
"Them's fer those that git along wit' Guards an' mercs. Three more up thattaways in th'corner fer th'mixed blacksmiths, tech-know-lo-jists, engineers, researchers, that sort. But-"
>Making an exasperated sound, Tenbren's left hoof raises to rub her snout slowly.
"Sorry, long naight. If y'want a real bed, don' matter where, git one raight now 'cuz half ya'll are gone an' mos'a us 'bout ta drop."
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349760
349814
>>349756
>Cheto nodded along understandingly as Bren explained the situation to him.
>Seeing no mention of any diplomat-exclusive quarters, his curiosity piped up.
>Was he really just a soldier in this compound?
>Maybe they want that to be the case?
"I presume there hasn't been any plans for diplomat accomodations in this large project you've got going, right?"
>As soon as Bren was showing signs of finishing her answer, Gallo soon gave her a little boop on her snoot to allow her to relax a little.
>Maybe her foremare would appreciate the gesture, too.
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.349787
349817
48566baf469394d846c187f8f59f158c.png
>>349592

>The chefs certainly did outdo themselves, the steak being the centrepiece of their craft. This is certainly not their first time cooking meat nor the last.
>Not like he was complaining, it had been a good while since he had eaten anything and after such an eventful time back in the city proper he needed this as much as he needed sleep.
>Speaking of, dining on such a scrumptious meal made his eyelids grow heavier.

>That notion along with his near trance like state of eating and savouring the food was interrupted by the voice of this new comer Unicorn.
"Oh, who's this?"
>Asked the Operator, not before swallowing the chewed food in his mouth as he looked over his shoulder.

>This...Shining Armour was someone he has most certainly NOT seen before.
>He was sure of it.
>Most probably sure.
>"I would most definitely remember a pony of his character if I had seen him before, especially in the Spire."
"Ah, Shining Armour, nice to exchange names at last."
>Lont said as he offered the stallion a hand-to-hoof shake.
"What brings you here other than the smell of this fine dinner myself and Glacier are enjoying?"
>And Belregard, he did not seem to like him either. Good, common ground already established.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349814
349818
>>349760
>Surveying her crew checking out the surface level top, Tenbren pauses to snorting loudly.
"Hah, nawt a damn chaince! Razorback ain't 'ad a diplomat 'cept fer th'firs' week in Equestria an'e quit 'pon swearin' ta kill Sunbutt fer sumthin' 'er other. Y'all ain't ever gonna 'ave another one 'less one'a th'nicer sisters forces one 'ere, but most ponies'd rather die afore that."
>Eyes crossing briefly, the mare's head shakes quickly several times to recover.
>A front hoof is raised and shaken at you in mock anger, Bren lazily grinning.
"Ah'll let y'ave that one only 'cuz Ah wasn't watchin' an' don'do thet agin or nex' time Ah'll feed ya to th'batfillies! Now 'scuse me, time t'land Missus Nal's 'ouse an'er shop afore she bites m'ooves off, Ah'm rather parshul ta'em bein' intact."
>Striding directly forwards, then taking a small detour right towards the southeast, within seconds the rest of her crew exit the barracks to follow after, though considerably faster.

>There was definitely some missing information here.
Northern Empire Tundra: The Melodine Conclave
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349817
349931
>>349787
"Only Crystal Revenant in existence. Be glad about that or else we'd be drowning in them."
>Physically paying zero attention to the Crystal-unicorn's arrival, Glacier lifts a deep blue glass in both hooves to swallow the gel-like contents.

>Chuckling at the Shell's dismissive humor, the unicorn settles into a loose resting stance.
"Same as always Glacy, right about everything except timing. She's not wrong though, there are more InterPonies than living ones across the Empire even if the majority are barely sentient. More like me would be detrimarental."
>Blinking at your outstretched limb, Shining Armor takes a slow half-step backwards, though gives a sincerely apologetic smile.
"My apologies but I can't shake your hand, I'm made of the same elemarental resonance as Rime. Touching me would destroy half your arm."
>That word you knew: an impossible to replicate function from an extremely rare Empire crystal that was 'mined' in the bitterly cold Labyrinth depths under the Spire.
>It was classified as a Tallus-native Elemarent, albeit one that produced temperatures which could flash-freeze lava.
"Good to meet you as well! I'm mostly here on her request to check on Tacit's condition, though, I do have some reservations about never being able to smell or eat again. Those baked crystal pumpkins and fresh corn were the best. I'm starting to think she was planning on me waking up Belregard for a full debrief on his version of tonight's events, is that it?"
>Side-eyeing the Shell whom gives an indignant nod between selecting another glass, the Crystal-unicorn grins broadly.
"Of course not, I'll do that later once he's recharged. Let sleeping batponies or Ethereals lie and all that. So no, unfortunately, I'm here on business. How long has she been treating him?"
"Since we got here quarter hour ago."
"I don't understand. Should take her six to eight minutes to stabilize an injured earth pony."
"Injured? More like near dead."
>Halting his inspection of the Melodine Matron's continued efforts, Shining frowns heavily towards Glacier.
"That last Ward and three of her monsters couldn't have offered that much trouble.. right?"
>Returning the uincorn's frown with a subdued glower, the Shell leans back, forelegs folding across her chest.
"Wrong. Hour before taking them on we ran into an unknown, a multi-legged Planar assault creature, ten limbs in all. Had orange weapons and armor that looked Construct. Probably a corrupted Vortex inhabitant given some of the Rift's less destructive equipmarent. Belregard didn't know what it could be but those particle whip tubes are the same between each model, only bigger and more accurate. He hasn't run into those yet which makes sense, they're only useful against organics. Bastard hybrid killed the human mare in three shots, went straight through her armor, thin as it was. Damaged me and Belregard with cluster bombs, then flanked off. Tacit wasn't there otherwise she'd be alive now, that's why I had to call Elezith in."
>Digesting the information quickly, the former Prince's face contorts furiously.
"You want me to track it down? I have little experience entering the Rift but they have no weapons that can damage incorporeals so far as I know."
"Nope, I want you to check on Tacit and see what else can be done. He dies, what he knows is lost."
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349818
349823
>>349814
>As Bren left with the rest of the crew, Cheto simply brandished a polite yet amused little smile and gave them a small wave.
>However, the man confirmed the feeling that his current working environment will be steeper than most.
(Seems like I really have to apply a royal solar work ethic before they try to put me on a stake...)
>He wasn't going to pester the workers any more since they're obviously working, but now he needed to figure out where to go next

>There's always coming back to Rasera's tent, but unless he wanted to play the part of a temporary cuddlebuddy for her and wait until the ruckus is over, he doubted he could rest soundly like he wanted to right now.
>Maybe the clinic could work, but that'd be a little disrespectful considering he's not even hurt.
>Not to mention things are still probably a little hectic over there as well.
(Tengo que encontrar un lugar tranquilo,,,
>A yawn quickly escaped his lips, inhaling deeply to steel himself for the next destination.
>He'd first try to explore other options by seeing if somebody or somepony had another spot where one could rest, preferrably away from all the construction noises.
>If none happened to show up, he'd somewhat reluctantly go back to Rasera's tent, intent on doing something rather daring.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349823
349825
>>349818
>Blearily recalling the crew boss stated the barracks here and several others did contain some beds, obviously not to full capacity though, you decide to check out this one just to see.
>Walking down the wide stone steps into a flat pit, it had a partial amphitheater layout perfect for outdoor activities though lacked overhead cover.
>Maybe something to add later.
>Opening the southern door, another copy like the rest throughout the Fortress, dim red lighting increases several magnitudes to a comfortable level.
>Checking the first door, everything that would be expected from a rental was here, except for a kitchenette and a bad.
>The next five were equally bedless, unfortunately, also noting small metal fixtures for name plates on each door.
>Upon reaching the central den it too was furnished like the barracks like the one you dropped in, except the furniture and shower stalls were brand new.

>Peeking into the next four rooms, each still lacked a bed.
>That was until lucky number eleven, which would technically be number two if you were entering from the north.
>A glossy stark black frame with some pretentious designs featured a thick queen size, loaded by thin lighter colored blankets and several pillows.
>It would certainly do, save the distances from here to the Mess Hall, Pagoda, or Command Center was rather substantial.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349825
349828
>>349823
>Cheto mused in astonishment at how quickly these equines have managed to build up this much in what seemed to be a couple of days.
>Granted, he had no real expertise in matters regarding construction work, but still looked like an impressive feat nonetheless.
>As he checked the rooms, he was further surprised to see the number of services already placed, wondering just what would a timelapse of this would look like.
(Fuaa...)

>His vision practically glued itself to the bed, tempted to outright jog into it and sleep away, but the ornate design and the size of the bed seemed a little off.
(Would Rasera opt to jam a queen sized bed with covers and pillows to a random room in the hopes of me getting to it before anyone else?)
>...no, this seemed a little too convenient.
>Perhaps this was an important pony or person's room.
>A mareried couple, perhaps.
(Could this be miss Nalinya's room?)
>With that hypothesis in mind, the man went on to see if there's any other clues regarding the supposed owner of this room.
Razorback Fortress: Somewhere.. Out There..
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349828
349831
>>349825
>Stepping inside to examine the interior, excluding the bed it was exactly the same as the previous ten.
>Checking through the drawers, locker, chest, and cabinets, you don't even find a speck of dust nor a single object.
>Returning to the door there was no bronze placard in the slot.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349831
349835
>>349828
>José found the anomalous bed sitting right there to be rather convenient, which in his polite mind meant that someone else had already made their own preparations to sleep here.
>After all, getting plaques done could take a bit longer than carry a queen sized bed.
>Although after reviewing the facts, he had no real idea of who could this be.
>So in order to play it safe, Gallo reluctnatly opted to walk out of the room with a small shake of his head, clearly uncomfortable with encroaching on what seemed to be someone else's room.
>Besides, he already has Rasera hook him up with a bed when he gets a room.
>Surely marking a room now would be easy enough, right?
>With that in mind, he'd opt to find a suitable room in the rookie area as he idly rummaged through his things in the hopes of finding a good way to temporarily claim the room.,
Razorback Fortress: Rookie Barrack West
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349835
349838
>>349831
>Exiting the barracks' north door and trodding northeast, it takes a heavy amount of mental processing to figure out where you were in relation to the newer structures.
>Passing by three of the brand new barracks south of the originals, small numbers of the dome-topped defensive structures from earlier were stationed one per building at varying distances.

>Turning the abovegrounds pony barracks' northwest corner was an equally large version of it sunken into the ground, several ponies already moving furniture into it, at a much slower pace since none were unicorns.
>East of the new pony barracks east of that were two smaller barracks, the ones you recall Bren stating were intended for Rookies.
>Making your way into the western one's amphitheater, once inside the first two doors had no placard in either slot.
>Inspecting the first one's interior, the room contains the same amenities as the northwest barracks, except for a bed.
>It was likewise devoid of any equipment, clothing, weapons, or gear.
>Checking from the second to the sixth, they were also bedless.
>Crossing through the den, it was missing a couple tables, chairs, and a couch or two judging by the empty spaces.
>The seventh and eighth had no beds, the ninth did, having a light wooden frame covered in fanciful artwork, several stacks of varying thickness blankets, and a trio of pillows.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349838
349841
>>349835
>Cheto groggily rubs one of his eyes as he continued looking for a suitable room.
>Now that he thought about it, why did he leave one barracks from the other?
>Just what was he doing right now?
>Is he looking for a temporary bed before Rasera provides one later?
>His mind was running on fumes at this moment and he really wanted to sleep and be done with it, but how is he supposed to find a suitable spot that doesn't encroach on other people?
>He did find the second bed looked quite similar to the first one he had just found before, but he needed to make sure by locating the third one to establish a clear pattern.
>Thus, the man kept looking.
Razorback Fortress: Rookie Barrack West
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349841
349843
>>349838
>Exiting to check the tenth, it also had a bed, this one's frame an overbuilt monster carved with images of archaic four-legged creatures.
>It could probably carry two light tanks stacked atop each other, or several dozen earth ponies.
>The mattress was a bit thinner than the previous two, covered in a random assortment of sheets, light blankets, and five pillows.
>Apparently the sorting team to severely rush.
>Checking the eleventh to find it had a bed, twelfth room was the same.

>Rummaging through pockets and backpack, the only items that would suffice as a marker were your toothbrush, well worn playing card pack, or the wallet though you'd have to remove everything from it.

[1d6 = 2] <?????
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349843
349847
>>349841
>There was no doubt now that this had no clear pattern to the beds, only that they were there in what seemed to be awfully weird designs and specifications.
>In other words, he was seemingly able to roll the dice on the type of bed he'd sleep in for today.
>He still had that awful feeling there was something he was still missing about this rather strange situation.
>At least now he needn't worry about taking somebody or pony else's bed without his knowledge since no one did.

>With a soft exhale, he now sought for the softest most delicate bed he could find.
>Howver, if he didn't find it by the next two bed sightings, he'll simply take it without much fuss.
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.349844
349875
>>349674
>Mallia received the machine-spirit's words, but her empathethic response would've been hard to parse.
>A feeling of gratitude for the counsel of such a honourable machine spirit. And abject shame. But she obviously didn't elaborate, simply allowing the machine spirit to return to it's sacred duty without her painfully biological and imbalanced emotions to distract it.

>Some of her emotions translated to her bright blue eyes, which were so expressive. A sadness hovered just aside from the childlike eagerness that she looked at the Sunspot with.
>For a second, she couldn't help but look through it. Making eye contact.
>That's when she consciously feels that sense of familiarity and deja vu, as she took in the colour of the Sunspot's eyes and the aspect behind them.
>Shortly after this instinctive realisation, it was confirmed by Tox-11.
>Obviously, this was Celestia's own spawn. But the implications hadn't fully sunk in until now. The debt of gratitude she owed the still nebulous Princess Celestia hit her like a truck.
>Mallia still smiled nonetheless, and struggled to lightly break the eye contact so as to not come off as too weird; quarter-turning her head back to Nasiksta as she took off her helmet and Mallia straightened up again.
>She lingered just enough to be nearby, mostly as emotional support, encouraging her with a cheery smile and by taking steps with her.
>Once Naskha was in position, Mallia broke off to be at Chisan's left with a confident stride and with her arms swinging a bit by her side.

>She looked at the way the Storm trooper gawked at her after her response, eliciting an amused furrow in Mallia's brow after her mouthed response. It was weird seeing Chisan look at her like that.
(Damn. I thought it would take an Artificer-grade hellgun to get him to look at me like that.)
>Amusement quickly broke way to concern again as her glance visibly lowered to gaze at his chest. Noting his stiffness, she couldn't help but purse her lip with worry... She knew he'd be okay, but she still felt empathic heartache over the Storm trooper's pain.
>Which was magnified somewhat given the very fresh memory of how her previous squad's Storm trooper died protecting her, physically shielding her from bullets. She'll never forget the sound of their bones breaking from the close-ranged impacts against their strong carapace armour, or the scream of it's machine spirit as the stalwart armor was pierced.
>Mallia stared vacantly for what to her felt like an eternity but was really just two seconds at most, her smile ebbing away just a little...

>Then her mind's eye drifts towards Witch-Two again as she remarks on her findings... Which allowed her to feel a certain childish happiness to knowing she had been useful!
>She was already starting to wiggle a little in excitement, putting her hands behind her back as she swished her robe side to side with her movements. Her mechadendrite likewise loosening a bit more and clicking it's grabber claws like some sort of excited 'clap'.
>click click click click
>Of course she still paid heed to the conversation even as she was swept by her emotions, though her participation in it was minimal at first. She just existed there, looking very excited for some reason.

>She was already looking at Chisan when the Storm trooper turns towards her. She had noted how he had come a hair's breath away from a facepalm and was carefully controlling her shaky breathing to keep her immense amusement down.
>The Enginseer, respectfully reigning in her giggles. She half-lifts her arm to almost give him the good old shoulder smack--but promptly winces and let's her hand drop back to her flank.
"It's fine!", Mallia chimed in,
"We can save the history for later, maybe with something nice to eat. Relax while we wait out the storm outside that's keeping us in here."
>She nodded to herself and beamed towards the Sunspot while taking a couple sauntering steps forward,
"The first thing I'd want to know is the name of this veryy~ cute-looking Sunspot!"
>She stops, one hand coming up to pat her Inquisitorial flak vest on the chest with an eccentric patpat.
"My name is Mallia Castella. What's yours?"
>She didn't know equine mannerisms in the slightest herself, so she'll just have to do what she usually does.
Razorback Fortress: West Rookie Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349847
349869
>>349843
>Spending a few minutes walking back and forth checking the last four rooms to determine which bed was the most fitting, you decided number nine had the best options and comfort level.
>Barely entering, the eastern opens, two sets of heavy boots and gear rattle as it closes, next a young European male voice, the second vaguely tropical.
"Why pick this one?"
"Closer to the Mess, less foot traffic, more chances of meeting with the mercs, far less chance getting run down by a Guardmare."
"Points taken. What's wrong with the other one?"
"Unless you've got ear plugs do you want to sleep north of the Workshop?"
"Good point.. so, no."
"If the rooms here are empty then I'm going to grab camping gear out of the Armory. There's no real shortage of rollmats and bags."
"What, and miss out on a real bed?"
"There's much worse than that. I've been rotating where I sleep between the Library, Enclave, Mess Hall, and hangar for the past month. You have no idea how bad it is but I'll say this much: there's a psion roaming around that's constantly whacked out on her own drugs that could kill half the base by sneezing the wrong way, a unicorn that could detonate the other half on accident if he gets a migraine, and an assortment of everything else starting with an artillery shell on hair trigger all the way to an asteroid cracking bomb."
"Well, this place sounds much safer already. Hey, I got dibs on that one-"
>Door number twelve opens to the second's loud sigh.
"Fine. Bed in there?"
"Yep. Taking that one?"
>Door number ten is pulled open to several moments of stony silence.
"Not what I was hoping for."
"Meaning?"
"I'd be happy with a single wide, this is just.."
"Enough to split four people and still have enough space for everyone's packs, like a queen size, maybe bigger?"
"Yes. Have all the ones we've seen been this large?"
"I think so. Yeah, they have to be."
"Those came from the Enclave, there's some wild stuff floating around in there. I'll show you the place tomorrow but there's a strict no touching rule unless there's a Lorekeeper nearby or you read something's description. I'll take this one for the night but we'll have sort out the roster at dusk, lot of people are still out and I'm not keen on pissing everyone off yet. And don't forget when lock a door in any of the barracks make sure the bolt is tight, that activates the protective engrams or whatever they're called."
"Will do, thanks man!"

>Both doors close in short order, leaving you wondering what sort of fun objects could be stored.
Razorback Fortress: The Armory, Aiutante
GM_Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.349853
349855
>>349662
>>349708
>As you perused through the Armory's collection of heavy weapons your attention catches the sound of the Workshop's main door opening along with one set of light hoofsteps entering.
>The light humming tune of a female trails in the backround until it stops abruptly, followed by panic hoof clopping.
"Yooooo! Like... where the fuck is the exo!?"
>The frantic hoofsteps get closer and closer until you hear the Armory door behind you throw themselves open wider, followed by a sigh of relief and an embarrassed giggle.
"Heehee-OH! MY! GOSH! You had me totally buggin' for a hot second there!"
>Behind you was standing one of the other contracted blacksmiths, Helping Hoof withstanding: the wiry young pink mare with the reddish-brown mane and eyes. You forget her weird name, as it just didn't fit well on your tongue. She looked you over set in your what was basically mobile tank armor at this point, as if an artist was admiring their work.
"You must be Ivan! See you found your exoskeleton. How's it fitting? We had to like... totally build it from the ground up. All Talus materials so it bypasses the Era Lock. It's like... sooooo illegal with how many enchantmarents I inscribed, but it's worth it. If you like need any more upgrades to it, just let one of us know. There's totally room for more improvemarements!"
>Finally finished her introduction, she glanced past you to the selection of weapons you were currently mulling over. She locks eyes back onto you and your armor system, levitating up a large crammed pink binder exploding with notes.
"I would definitely check with Mr. Anonymous before handling any of those you totally know your era doesn't match. I heard last month an operator picked up a revolver literally one mechanical era above him! Had to spend almost two whole days in a non-Euclidean pocket space just to keep the Era Lock from like totally turning his body into scrambled eggs. Sooooo grody!"
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <B.Research: Smithing + Hodch's Disciple
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Aiutante's Notebook
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349855
349886
>>349853
>Looking up from the weaponry due to the commotion outside, and getting louder, Ivan would take a small step away from the table.
>Just in case he got bumped into something he shouldn't touch.
>Watching the mare, he was briefly glad the helmet concealed his amused grin.
>"Zone armorers would've gotten their gun immediately to shoot a thief."

"Yep, that's right. Fits pretty well, almost like a glove. Just have to break it in a bit, see what limits it has."
>If anything, Bren would appreciate the additional weight he could haul around with it.
"Sorry I couldn't give you something better to work with. I'd have preferred a fully intact Exoskeleton to be worked on, myself. And I'll keep that in mind, these things can always be improved further."
>Though Zone Armorers don't exactly get to do as much as a STALKER would like.

>He watched as the binder appeared, trying to place what she reminded him of.
>Something about a Valley Girl.
"I know better than to try to touch out of Era stuff. Only things I've handled was the ones I could identify without reading inscriptions."
>He did not want to deal with becoming can sized again.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349869
349876
>>349847
>José soon nodded along as the conversation carried on, taking mental notes for the tidbits of information he was freely given on the other side of the room's door.
(...there seems to be some unhinged ponies running around that could easily kill me by accident...)
(...for some reason, the furniture could be slightly suspicious, but it isn't clear why...)

>First things first, Gallo soon checks the lock, fiddling with it until he can lock it properly like the voices said.
>Then he'd start properly investigating the bed proper to see if it had any quirks of its own that were proudly stated somewhere.
>Surely the workers wouldn't intentionally put rookie death traps in their own bedrooms for fun, right?
>It sounds a little too far-fetched and alien.
>...it is an alien world, however...
Imminent Retrieval: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349875
349981
>>349844
>Compositing a new ASCII in 0.75 seconds, Tox-11 was in the middle of a wide open shrug while Witch-Two was seated on a stool to his right, leaning forwards and biting a fingernail in the middle of a nervous expression.
'no matter what insquisitor says Chisan is a mindwiped Tempestus Scion, has little personality outside hypnodocs'
'That was my mistake Andronal, I urged Flash to deconstruct the more hostile variations but did not account for ingrained personality suppression engrams. Mallia, it is nearly impossible for a Storm Trooper to utilize empathy even towards an object of extreme desire. He struggles due to anti-xeno programming. I apologize for that. The next chance we get I will revoke as many as possible.'
'so this time he gets a perfect score?'
'Don't make that prediction yet. He could still cock up.'

*"My appreciation, Castella. I lack the ability to, as Witch-Two states, 'connect' with others."*
'That is not an indicator of poor performance. We will be spending time teaching you the basic details of interpersonal and interponial relations.'
>Relief flickers across the Scion's visage as you speak, taking a full step backwards and gesturing his left hand in your direction.. which the Sunspot immediately takes great interest in.
>Flashing a non-blinding open mouthed smile direclty at you, the filly's eyes widen, her wings raising halfway and shaking excitedly.
"We can? Really? I love soft metals, they make me want to stay awake for months!"
>Perhaps the broad offer was a bit too enthusiastic given her.. relative age.
>Standing up with ease, the plasma pegasus blinks, then covers her face, both wings outstretched to hide a groan.
>A rather defeated 'okay I guess' one.
"My aunts used to say the same thing all the time and I am NOT cute!"
>Visibly expressing that he had been ready to pull his own face off, Chisan lifts a hand to make a silent facepalm at his lack of knowledge.
>He'd get over it sooner or later.
>Likewise stepping forwards with muted clicks on stone, the Sunspot's front left wing raises forwards to greet you, smiling broadly.
"Mom named me Olympa! She said something about a huge mountain that touches the oceans above but I never went there."
'Primary target in optimal range Mallia, deploy VIP greeting protocols!'
Razorback Fortress: Rookie Barrack West
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349876
349877
>>349869
>Locking the mid-chest high, bizarrely heavy metallic dead bolt tight, a subdued click is heard.
>The room's atmosphere changes, going from visible red to a soothing yellow-purple cascade.
>Looking up to find no visible lighting systems, it seemed the entire ceiling was the source.

>Spending the next ten minutes carefully poking, prodding, and examining the frame, bed, pillows, and blankets.. you find nothing suspect.
>Oddly, the frame's construction was more akin to heavy wood that'd been welded together, the seams themselves were more natural looking and feeling than artificial.
>Except for a single long, soft, silky, yet neutral to the touch crystal hair that reminded you of Frost's mane.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349877
349882
>>349876
>José watched in mild awe as the lighting switched in sync with the bolt's click, giving him a rather unexpected surprise.
>Would humanity really go to all this length for their rank & file to feel comfortable?
>It didn't sound right, but that's the perks of alien thinking.
>It provides a new perspective untainted by old customs and knowledge.

>The bed also seemed to follow that new thought process with its au naturale style and cadence unlike the rough military ones he was used to.
>Was it because they valued every soldier in high regard or were such standards so easy to achieve that they might as well?
>He did recall things were a little on the expensive side, however, so he may be jumping to conclusions a little too quickly.
>Speaking of, Gallo softly picked up the errant strand of mane on the bed with a pensive, focused gaze.
>Perhaps it was simply as a result of moving the furniture, but a part of him thought there might be an equine in the room.
>Was that really a bad thing, though?
>Surely if there's any spats to be had, she or he wouldn't wait for him to just fall asleep, right?
(...whoever may be here could just wake me up if they need to talk to me. Right now, I really need to sleep.)
>With that established, the man opted to simply start to neatly organize his stuff around the room in the imminent preparation to finally rest despite the ominous feeling looming over him.

>Surely it can't be that bad, right?
Razorback Fortress: Rookie Barrack West
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349882
349884
>>349877
>Double checking the room's corners, and the ceiling to be sure, there was an extremely low probability that you were being marestalked.
>Depending on whom or what might answer the letter you sent earlier that was certainly going to change, and drastically.

>Stashing everything in easy to remember and reach locations, small squads of humans walk by in the large bay window above the bed from time to time, each accompanied by at least one pony, mostly the black armored marecenaries seen earlier.
>Curiously, the external sounds were rather muted.
>Trying to figure out how the system worked briefly, the surface acted more as a flat screen at a 90 degree external viewing angle.
>Without any obvious technology in use or electrical conduits the source was puzzling.

>Finished sorting through your gear, besides the errant crystalline hair there was little left to do, and the bed was looking better by the second.
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349884
349911 349912
>>349882
>Looking around the room only served to feed his curious mind further, wondering how exactly does this room work.
>Maybe there's some sort of secret mechanism revealing all sorts of functions.
>He'd have to ask Bren who designed these structures to see what he can learn.
>It'd also help with the errant mane strand on his bed.
>It could be as simple as it leaving the body from moving it here but he doubted they'd allow themselves to be sloppy.
(...questions for tomorrow. I need to sleep before my body forxea me to.)

>With that, Gallo soon started to strip himself down as he approached the bed, neatly folding it nearby for tomorrow.
>From jacket to underwear, all of it came off and was placed in a neat pile ordered from the first piece to be put on to the last.
>He won't sully this bed with dirty clothing.
(...maybe I shower and brush my teeth while I'm at it...)
>Then he realized that while it was a short trek, he wasn't gonna make it there willy nilly unless he dresses himself back up.
>Not to mention the fact that maybe he'll need to go take out a towel, which he didn't quite know where it would be.
>It could be at the den, but he was already dragging along out of stubbornness.
(...I'll shower after I wake up... Can't think straight...)
>With that, he soon went over to wherever the bathroom's toilet bowl was to brush his teeth and then wash it out with some of the fountain water into it.
>After that little ritual, the man deemed it acceptable enough to properly go to bed and snugly lay in it.
Razorback Fortress: The Armory, Aiutante
GM_Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.349886
349887 349917
>>349855
>>349855
"Oh ya, it better totes fit like a glove! Nalyina created a hololith that takes feedback from your movements from the undersuit to better translate to the exoskeleton. The more you use it, the smoother it's going to feel and operate! NOT even going to mention the Goskan steel mesh underlay over the plating. Makes it like totally more flexible without adding weight."
>The pink mare eyeballs certain parts of the suit as you make any particular movement, making scribbles in her bulky notebook.
"Hmmm... meshing flexes with limb movement, joints are synchronized... no plating hang-up or catches... Oh um. To be totally honest, it was probably better we started from scratch. We were able to incorporate so many more Talus materials that the Era Lock would've like totally shot down."
>She hovers her notebook behind her head to keep it out of the way, tapping a hoof on the exosuit's left leg.
"Reinforced armor with partial magic protection, temperature regulation system, phase-shifting paint helps you blend in. Your helmet has night vision and thermal inlay on the lenses, along with a mounted flashlight, near total concussion mitigation, and anti-flash and deafening, as will as a closed circuit air filtration system. It's a total package, ya."
>Your reassurance gets a confident nod from the mare and looks over at the heavy weapons you were looking at.
"I added an anti-shock enchantmarent that should negate the recoil of even the heaviest weapons. You can like... totally get away with toting around a fifty cal or even that minigun without much problem!"
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349887
349917 350195
>>349886
"It certainly feels more flexible, I won't deny. Zone Exoskeletons were always more than a little stiff and cumbersome."
>Every time she spoke he felt a little dumber.
"Yeah, probably a good idea. Though having one from my home would've let you guys figure out how each part worked better."
>He nodded in approval at what she told him about the helmet, not having really checked yet.
"Haven't tried them out, but the thermal inlay and anti-flash are certainly new."
>He let out an audible hum, looking over at said minigun.
"Perhaps, but I'd also have to carry enough ammunition for either one to make it worthwhile. Would probably add on more weight than its worth."
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349911
349912
>>349884
[1d6 = 4] <?????
[1d6 = 6] <Interdict
[1d6 = 6] <Solar Sub-Faction
Razorback Fortress: West Rookie Barrack
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349912
349916
>>349884
>>349911

>Feeling a bit refreshed by the time you flop down with a nice sheet and pillow, the room maintains a fairly cool temperature that was likely a preset conducive to sleep.
>The bed was definitely nicer than it first felt, the material similar to memory foam though much heavier and absorbent.
>Barely noticing the ceiling's integral lighting system dimming to comfortable near-black over five or so minutes, the peaceful atmosphere was directly opposite any standard barrack you'd been in.

>Right on the razor's edge of dozing off, an alarming metallic scrape breaches your consciousness, as does the pop of air rushing into the room and several dozen heavy thuds of booted hooves landing on wood.
>Instantly snapping a hand out for the TMP and bringing it up, the stately calm of a rather young voice speaking in a polite, aery tone, enough to identify as a pegasus.
"My sincerest apologies for interrupting your sleep, First Hoof José Gallo. I am underprincess Prima Lauterna, great-great-grandfilly of Princess Celestia."
>Soft white-yellow from the ceiling lights up the room to reveal a brilliant platinum-white young Prenchmare with soft blue speckled eyes, the mane a lustrous burnt gold color.
>Surrounding her in a three-quarter circle, ten mares clad in thick Honor Guard armor stand utterly still, their attentions rigidly focused on everything.
>Except you, interestingly.
>Small hints of resigned irritation touches the post-filly's quiet timbre, front left leg lifting and placed on her chest to make a slight, delicate bow.
"Please forgive the presence of my Mareguards, I am not permitted to travel without all of them accompaneighing me regardless of extenuating circumstances. It is unfortunately that we must meet in such a hurried situation, I would have preferred to do so in a less private sitting but time constraints do not permit such. If you would prefer I shall, temporarily, dismiss my Mareguards."
>Hoof set down on the floor, the Prenchian's face becomes a mixture of troubled and deeply apologetic.
"There are matters I must immediately discuss with you, ones that my great-great-grandam cannot do so publicly."
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349916
349923
>>349912
>José indeed was startled awake and brandishing his weapon at first until he swiftly recognized the honor guard armor and the divinely regal looking pegasus prenchmare in front of him
>With a soft, calm yet bemused exhale through his nostrils, he soon unloaded his weapon and placed it back to its previous position, giving her a curt nod.
"It is nice to meet you, underprincess Prima Lauterna," he neutrally greeted in kind, once again fully awake despite his groggy demeanor. "There is no need to dismiss your mareguards for the occasion."
>With that said, however, he soon smirked a little.
"In fact," he amicably added "I would like for one of them to stand guard right next to me while we discuss matters. Preferrably without her helmet on, if she could."
>Having proposed his preference, the man soon sat up to his waist, making sure he was securely half-covered underneath the covers while being at range for any soothing and stimulating petting for the potential mareguard willing to cater to his request.

>Regardless of whether a mareguard stepped forth or not, Gallo would promptly give her a nod.
"Whenever you're ready, underprincess," he politely offered with a serious disposition.
Razorback Fortress: The Armory
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349917
350195 350197
>>349886
>>349887
"Heard someone call me, what'd I miss?"
>The green man's voice questions from a solid white doorway behind Aiutante, stepping out from the White Room with a bottle of beer in hand.
>Clocking in at a poor half minute at that.
"No bodies, charcoal, blood stains the size of a small pond, angry mares by the thousands, apologies Aiutante, or disasters to try and salvage?"
>Sweeping the Armory briefly, Anon nods pleasantly before taking a swig.. through the mask.
>Of course.
"I'm impressed. There's another disaster that finished a couple hours ago. Didn't go the way anyone, or any pony, wanted, but it ended well enough I actually had some time to settle a few scores. Even got some new lights and a better couch."
>Lazily swishing the bottle in his offhand, Anon strolls to the opposite side of Ivan to point out several of the weapons.
"Browning, Calico, Eff-Gee Forty-Two, weird ass Magnum Salvo shotgun, Pancor, Sturm Eighty-Four, Steyr Two-Thousand, Sturmgewehr Forty-Four, Groza, big fucker of a shotgun, and the Turin are safe for you to use. Turns out some design differences don't have any basis on the Era Lock, but I still haven't figured that out. So's the.."
>Double checking the selection, Ivan and Auitante feel the gestalt's confusion turn to annoyance.
"Either I'm losing it again or there's three, four missing ones? Don't know where they're at. One more's here somewhe- ah, nevermind."
>Spinning around to snag a wooden pistol case, Anonymous tosses it onto the weapon table before pointing at it with the bottle.
"That one's safe as well. Big revolver about the size Hollow's got, heavy enough to beat a minotaur to death with. Don't ever let Crystal ponies see it or you'll never get away. Just watch the kick... and the ammo, real hard to make by hand I can tell you that much."
Razorback Fortress: West Rookie Barrack
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349923
349930
>>349916
>The underprincess gives the weapon a faintly curious examination while her guardians disregard it as a threat, their eyes scanning the room over again.
>Returning a possibly annoyed nod in return, Lauterna's eyes swivel to land on one of the Honor Guards to her left.
"My apologies once more. This will certainly not be the only time I must arrive unannounced."
>Leaving the threatening 'with them' hanging, certainly not unfelt judging by the slight shifts of their armored stances.
>Barely a heartbeat later one of the Mareguards physically turns to the underprincess, giving the impression she was about to piledrive the thinner mare.
>Unspoken words pass between the two, and instead, the helmet is lifted off in a small field of dim green to be set on the rump.
>Two obnoxiously bright glows of electric blue assault your senses before realizing that those were, indeed, eyes.
>Batpony eyes at that, the diamond shape surrounded by vivid red while the pupil was pitch black and reflected nothing whatsoever.
>The tufts on both ear tips were a burning on-fire green, small wisps of smoke trailing upwards, at which sight the skin across your neck and arms immediately begins to crawl.
>Along with the unsubtle stare, slightly more disturbing was the burning green mane emitting the same trail, while the batmare's hot red coat was definitely not an indicator of willingness to jump into bed.
>Striding forwards next to the bed, the batpony spins around in a textbook 180 to take up a suitably formal albeit rigid stance.
>Within reach, for sure.

"This is problem. Not the letter itself, nor the contents, or the recipient. Politically, that is the problem."
>Sniffing politely, Lauterna's horn alights in faded green, a familiar letter appears while she frowns.
"But first I state this as a matter of trust: I can not tell you where Princess Celestia is nor how to reach her, only that she delivered this to me with certain instructions to follow. I will not seek to disturb her outside of an immediate emergency."
"To begin, the loyal-"
>Stressing the second word out painfully.
"Nobility and some ten or so hooves' worth of royalty were made aware of Princess Celestia whom declared that she would search for a human diplomat. Five months passed since. Earlier this night a meeting was held to determine whether or not the Silver Court, that is, the nobility, would support Razorback regardless of.."
>Biting her cheeks for several momarents, the odd batmare's head tilts as the underprincess continues.
"Past difficulties and circumstances. If you are not aware of incidents which caused our regent to shun Razorback then I will not state any more."
"Before the vote occurred several left, an equal number abstained. Three declared they would never support Razorback, three declared the opposite of prior. End results: the vote was a loss of one in favor of aid and opening neighgotiations. A minority of the Silver Court broke out by stating that they would aid on humans on their own terms."
"The Gold Court, of whom all royalty, including myself, are required to attend when a meeting is called, has not reached a single consensus since the destruction of New Canterlot Palace. There are now nineteen split factions, none of whom have the slightest desire to work together. There are two, possibly three outliers whom, if my information is correct from midnight, may have a tentative willingness to cooperate with Razorback."
>Taking a deep, whistling inhale, Lauterna's wings reach forwards to rub the back of her head.
"Up front, all the rights, obligations, privileges, and so on and so forth that you have shall either reunite, or permarenently split, Equestria's sub-factions. A majority favors the first of course, yet some will scheme and power play to see claims credit and thus credibility."
"In the back, the possibility of destabilizing specific ones is a greater threat. Most lines of royalty have influence, not an inconsiderable amount, throughout the Day and Honor Guards. Yet, since the Royal Guard were almost thoroughly wiped out earlier this night, the patrons they would have are no longer a threat."
"The problem that I spoke of first is this: your position is guaranteed by the influence of one sovereign, and, carries the threat of execution should some go against that weight."
"Openly, that is. There are less than four assassins left on this continent though the whereabouts of two are unknown. The major factions of this world have decided that non-interference towards Razorback is their best strategy, thus military intervention is likewise out of the question."
>Rocking back on her hooves, the Prenchian mare glances up at the window, eyes narrowing at the sounds of humans walking by.
"The most likely direct course of action would be to set an infiltrator the Mareguard you are allowed. As such, there is no single pony with even the smallest tie to any of the Solar factions that you can attempt to trust. Not even the Day, Royal, or Honor Guards whom were allowed to station here, unless they are vetted first which is a process that might take time."
"As Razorback is a mercenary company and receives a number of contracts each month... well,should you find a marecenary contract which unduly attracts your attention and thus physical presence, that would be the most likely indirect course of action to eliminate you."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349925
349934
>>349754
>Noting the reaction he got, Bubba quietly decided to apologize.
>When he was calmed down suitably, of course.

>Picking a spot of the Batcave to rest against, Bubba's back lightly thunked on the wall before he slid down into a crouched sitting position, head in hands.
>Too much was happening to the man for him to quickly sort out.

>He growled and threw his helmet off to the side, watching it hit the ground and roll a few feet.
"Fucking hell... Shit's going straight to fuck."
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349930
349936
>>349923
>While José was instinctually unnerved by the rough, tough, flaming batmare currently standing guard next to him with an utterly bemused and possibly disgruntled expression, he couldn't help but be utterly fascinated with this small sample of what mareguards had to offer.
>Granted, this clearly was an elite, highly equipped one with loads of experience under her saddle, which wasn't even close to a guarantee considering his position at the utter bottom of the ladder.
>However, the man didn't want to waste an opportutnity to see the batmare's reaction to his usual petting indulgences.
>Thus, he first ensures his imminent transgression wouldn't elicit a death glare clearly threatening a beating by gently hovering his empty palm over the bright green ear tuff flames and mane.
>If nothing came of it, he'd soon try to politely poke her snout to try and cheer her up a little, specially considering the fact he couldn't seem to be able to do his conventional ear scritching and mane brushing.

>While he tested the batmareguard's personal boundaries, José always held direct eye contact with Prima Lauterna, listening intently to every word she said with as much focus as being exhausted would allow.
>His eyes widened considerably at what he recalled was a strong Solar empire crumble down into 19 subfactions for what humanity did to them.
>It was truly heartbreaking to Gallo, specially with his natural infatuation with their kind at first sight.
>More harrowingly still, his mere announcement could've actually caused a bigger catastrophe if that letter arrived to what the underprincess testified as the ambitious noble schemers.
>Ponies would try to kill eachother and him just for his title alone.
>He was apparently lucky Celestia's great-great-grandfilly herself stepped in to help.
>It was so bad, in fact, that he couldn't actively trust not one Solar with his life, even though those were the kind of ponies he wanted to help rebuild with.

>With a small, mournful nod, José's responsibilites were further defined in this increasingly cold, harsh world.
"I understand," he succinctly answered with a curt bow as his hand still hovered above the flaming batmare. "My deepest thanks for warning me of this, underprincess Lauterna, and I hope we can help rebuild the greatness and unity that was lost together."
>So his best best is look out for marecenary contracts that try to stick out like a sore frog or forbid himself from being alone with a pony carrying even a hint of Solar history.
>That does leave some questions, however.
"Do you have any advice regarding mareguard recruitment in my abnormal circumstances, underprincess?" he politely inquired. "Not to mention: Who are the ponies from both Silver and Gold courts that would tentatively support Razorback?"
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.349931
349970
>>349817

>Still casually eating his own food Lont raised an eyebrow.
"InterPonies, that is a new term for me."
>He really needed to resign to the fact he will never truly know everything about this world, and just focus on what he needed to know.
>And what he needed to know was what Tacit knew.

>Upon hearing that the Unicorn was made from Rime the Operator snapped his hand away on instinct and nearly choked on his food.
>This gave him a short lived coughing fit before subduing it by downing his drink, some of it escaping past the edges of his lips.
"Haaaaa..!"
>He sighed in relief.
"I did not know that, thank you for warning. And I'm sorry you can no longer enjoy the pleasures of food, and I assume, the flesh too."

>He was here for Tacit, that made one of Lont's eyes twitch with minute movement.
>"He better not lay a hoof on him."
>He thought to himself as the two ponies conversed amongst themselves. As they did so he continued to eat on in silence as he listened on.

>"Human mare?"
>Lont stops chewing. He stops eating. He puts his utensils down and straightens his back.
"Who was this human that died, was she from Razorback and what of her remains? Tell me everything."
>He asked Glacier before turning to Shining.
"And Shining Armour, I need to talk to Tacit as well. What do you two want to know from him?"
>What Lont really wanted to know was what the Earth Ponies' fate to be after this incorporeal pony had all the info he needed from him, but he was not going to jump to conclusions just yet.
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349933
349988
>>349604
>>349611
>Still not looking pleased with that thought, cartoon Wild busies herself with drawing a large branching tree.
>Genealogy, apparently.
"Five datacores reference multiple non-standard pegasi lineages that are physically smaller, faster, stealthier, and are noted for some having distinct near-magical capabilities. The four main clans of these are presumed to originate from 'the Ferron'. Twenty more subclans from those four are direct descendants. Running analytic factors based on genetic inheritance and drift-"
>The Eldritch-Android mindset, and priorities, certainly were odd.
[1d6 = 4] <Damaged Analysis Core #1

>For its part the Puff Skipper emits a tiny, happy squeak.
>At least it sounded that way, and wasn't currently exploding or trying to smoke you out of the chest compartment.
>Waiting a few seconds to see if it does anything more, the little creature doesn't even breathe.
>Could it?
>....
>You had no idea, nor did Wild elaborate enough to know.

>Dedicating a fraction of her attention to you still, the other half was concerned with her hull, one of the more bizarre components onscreen in Wild's left leg had changed from black to a moderate red.
"What is not right? Is my intended course compromised? ...my last remaining tertiary sensor node is offline. Again."
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Arcanum Sensor Array
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #8

>Now past the underwater sand shoal, the screen in front of you expands for a wide view.
>At an angle you took to be nearly 80 degrees upwards, what should have been an overcast night sky was instead long trails of white that was poorly imitating cloud cover.
>Noting blood red moonlight between the gaps, the 'clouds' didn't have the same distinct color attached to them, instead operating from an internal light source.
>The gap between each cloud was orderly, too close together for what you estimate to be roughly thirty kilometers, end on end.
>Not even the best long distance pegasi cloud teams could pull off more than five moving in sync, and only then for half a kilometer each.
>Squinting a bit to make out finer details, you finally realize what was out of place: short pulses of white would start in one location, be repeated on the opposite 'cloud', which would travel right, directly forwards for them.
>According to the small map on screen the faux-clouds were traveling straight north.

>Adjusting the other screen's lens several times, the caricature stops to look through itself outside.
"Zero obstructions, organics, or nonorganics within five hundred meters. Intended route is clear. Show me what you've noticed."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Bat(Cave)!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349934
349985
>>349925
"You're telling me."
>An old, familiar male voice speaks to your right, the click of a match striking up equally subdued.
>Sitting down heavily six or so feet away was the train's Engineer.. whom you recall had been missing for a while now.
>Lighting up a long, thin cigar, the unicorn stallion's tone was exceptionally bitter and thoroughly drained.
"Almost didn't escape Canterlot this time either. Now I know how you all feel, and Denra most of all."
>Making a short 'want this?' motion with the burnable, a dejected smile is given.
"Least I got my last pay before final orders. 'You are hereby banished from Canterlot for life. Also don't come back or you'll be thrown in prison faster than you can teleport from here to the door'. Always thought I'd die in some horrific crash. Didn't know that would take years to go through."
Razorback Fortress: Rookie Barrack West
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349936
349971
>>349930
>A short one eyed appraisal takes place from the batmare, unmoving and eerily still.
>Snout twitching side to side, her shoulder armor lifts in a slow, measured 'don't care' shrug, or perhaps 'I don't mind' was more fitting.
>Feeling air forced to move upwards from the cashmere ear tufts, there was no heat attached to the smoke.
>While her mane was silky enough to pass for Nova it was less pleasing than Frost's, but the indications of what elemental force, or forces, were causing the effect eluded you.
>Allowing a tiny smile from the boop, both of her ears wiggle playfully.
>As a side effect your skin was now fully contracting away from the Honor Guard batpony as if it physically feared for safety.

"Be at ease, I am not here formally nor do I think I shall ever be here as such, so long as the status quo persists."
>Dismissing the bow with her left wing in a slow motion, the underprincess scowls impotently.
"The greatness and unity you speak of exists the same as a great crystal work fractured into individual facets. Such is indicative of how marely Solar royals, and a few noble ponies, would have utilized Razorback to sort out the troubles they were too lazy to solve themselves. Or afraid of."
>There was enough vitriol in her words to make it clear which side she would vote for.
"Bluntly speaking, your options are great, compared to what would have been 'offered'."
"Princess Luna allows Night or Lunar Guard whom desire to join Razorback the right if they are approved. Two or more Nightblades, their General whom resides here full time, one or more of the Lunar Council, and the Nightmare herself may conduct such an interview. She-"
>Smiling deviously, the batmare rolls her eyes in mock nonchalance.
"Was recommarended to me by a.. former colleague. Of course, the appearance of batponies in Canterlot is seen as an ill omen by a few superstitious wretches whom still believe the old, worn out myths. As I am allowed to requisition what is necessary for my Mareguards, a decommissioned suit of Honor Guard armor was simple to procure. Refits in Prance are never questioned."
"Then there are batponies, few of whom are like her. Undoubtedly you have met a few here, yet I will be brutally honest: from the outside the Moorites, an archaic term used to denote batponies that live in the Moors year round, seem a living contradiction. All are part of the Lunar faction itself, though do not directly serve. All may be called upon and once the task or mission is complete will return to their lives. They adhere to Princess Luna's will and commarends alone yet readily seek to aid others. Rare is the batpony whom pledges their efforts to another faction, even for a minute. Rarer still is the batpony whom in their soul is not a proud, lewd, merry being."
>Glancing to her right at a unicorn Honor Guard, Lauterna huffs in a polite, not quite enthused tone, returning give a faux-insulted head shake.
>There was that silent mental contact again.
"Captain Shanis of Tartarus Isle commarends a large number of Stalliongrad native pegasi and earth pony marecenaries, some of whom served in famous componies or companeighs. It would not take much to ask of her opinion on a suitable marecenary to hire or buy. "
"Of the Ferron it would be easy to find allies in the main clan though one must be warned: select carefully as some do not have self control. Their sub-clan kin are notably less lewd and more serious minded, the name eludes me. The Lunar General whom lives here belongs to said sub-clan."
"Malurian Druids of the Old Ways might accept taking a role as Mareguard, yet they may not be professional enough for your standards. The Malurian view of morals is... raw and ambiguous. Loose enough to save lives yet not enough to care for the rule of law. They consider the spirit of law far more useful than the language and letters combined."
"The Arkadian Divides are strict, no-nonsense pegasi whom are most proud of their martial capabilities. They are known more for being excellent, honest traders than their knowledge of the Dynasty. As well their propensity for ruin diving and usage of artifacts is more than most."
"Within the Crystal Empire are two main factions. The Kingdom adherents comprise the majority. Flexible, traditional, openly warm, welcoming, and military minded at heart. Skilled singers, artisans, crafters, and have a way with their technology that few understand. They are excellent traders and conduct neighgotiation with equal joy. However, most Kingdom adherents are between thirty to one hundred twenty years of age. At least half of them are forty-five and older."
"Then there are the Crystal Imperials, those born during or after the Empire's occupation. Young, reckless, headstrong, fiery, prone to fits of fervor. Positive and negative in equal measure. They see anything other than raw freedom as a stifling influence but are not revolutionaries per se. The oldest of them would be twenty-eight or so. Few would have served, or be willing to serve, the Wardens, that being the Empire's military."
"There is a high chance Queen Chrysalis of the Changeling Hive would allow one of her sons or daughters to serve you. Shapeshifters all, excellent combatants, tactful, respectful, honorable, have long memories. Their psionicism is roughly equal to that of earth ponies, yet they do not have an equivalent to Primal Psions.. that I know of. However, the vast majority of Canterlot still see Changelings as an existential threat due to past incidents. Myths and lies should not be considered 'fact'. I am not of Canterlot thus I have nothing negative to state against Changelings, their Queen, nor the Hive itself."
"Independents exist in marely places. Gryphons, perhaps even minotaurs may be willing."

>Fixing a spot above your head with an angered glare, the underprincess snorts mockingly.
"Excluding myself? Until bonds are reforged or shattered to the last it is best for 'them' to remain hidden lest arrogant capriciousness take hold."
Northern Empire Tundra: The Melodine Conclave
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349970
350127
>>349931
>Vaguely recalling the term from a conversation with Cadence the previous year, InterPonies were the result of crystal matrices in the Labyrinth developing sentience, then sapience, albeit either was extremely unlikely to develop.
>Comparable to high tier autonomous A.I., at least the ones you knew of, they were wholly resonance based, interacting with Crystal ponies through hololiths, Crystal runes, and more rarely, sets of specialized Warden armor intended for anti-Construct purposes.
>They couldn't interact with the world much, instead solely functioning in support roles.
>Presumably they'd be utterly incapable of compatibility with electronics, biological systems, hybrids, or otherwise.

"Really sorry about that, I think I should start saying that part up front first."
"Wait, you think?"
"Sometimes I don't, no."
"Hah, just like me but better and more honest!"
"Keep saying that and I'll request you be put in charge of Ethereal visiting hours at night."
>Left eyebrow raising, the other lowers as the Crystal-unicorn stifles a grin, Shattered Glacier grumbling incoherently around another glass of gel.
"I appreciate the sentiment. It's been almost two decades, now I mostly contend with the Shells that dare to return and their needs. Who knew being immortal would be more work than living?"
"Har har you wannabe Moorite."

>Halting from the half-finished 'drink' and setting it down, the Shell turns rigid, eyes flicking up to you.
"Cadence, half the Warden Generals, maybe a few others knew her name. She didn't come from Razorback otherwise you'd know one went missing around eight months ago. World she came from was a.. what did you call it again?"
"I'll replace the words I used with this: a living horror that I can't even try to imagine."
"That. Her weapons looked a bit Construct, all metal and rounded. Louder, about the same range, not as accurate, darts locked inside steel tubes, not like arrows. Baton that stunned or gave off some hot red light. Heavy, round, eight hooves long, no spikes. Armor was something Belregard knew of, a polly-air-eh-mid. Not a pyramid, I've seen lots of those. Moved faster in it, hit harder too. Helmet like an oval fishbowl, not crystalline. Always talked to it like there was an InterPony inside. Never heard a voice though, something about im-plants, not like Construct ones."
>Glacier nods at the ex-Prince to speak, whom sighs in exasperation at the table.
"Both of us were kept out of that loop, probably for good reasons. What I wanted was a debriefing on whether or not Tacit's plan was complete enough to release all the information collected so far. There are no idle healers around the Empire since someponies convinced those 'free healers' to help with casualties, which means his recovery could take weeks."
>Head turning to examine the bandage covered stallion, Shining Armor slowly rotates towards the Shell with a suspect expression, both of her forelegs immediately raise in protest.
"Not it!"
"You're immune to psionics due to being a Shell, I'm immune to psionics due to being technically undead, and there is someone here-"
>Nodding in your direction while keeping both eyes pinned on Shattered.
"That theoretically could make contact and speak to him."
"Okay, that wasn't what I thought you might say-"
"Don't jump to conclusions before they've been made."
"I wasn't jumping!"
"You were close to doing exactly that."
"Argh, you're such a.. a unicorn!"
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349971
349974
>>349936
>In sharp contrast with his body, Cheto found himself further mesmerized by this weird feeling of terror crawling through his skin.
>If it weren't for the fact she seemed to be a busy mare, he'd want to have a one-on-one chat with her to see what was that all about.
>Perhaps it's some sort of magical coercion common for more experienced mareguards?
>Maybe it's his own gut feeling telling him not to trifle with her?
>Regardless, he's personally witnessed that despite his advances, the mareguard seemed overall pleased with his antics, further bolstering his confidence for further exploration.
>Speaking of...

>José nodded politely in kind with a grateful yet more informal little smile.
"My apologies, miss Lauterna," he more amicably corrected soon after she finished her piece. "With all this distance between us and your mareguards, I believed otherwise."
>As his hand left the batmare's personal boundaries, he soon extended it slightly towards her with an open, downwards palm ready to receive the potential greeting hoof.
"Let us correct this slight error in our introductions," he smoothly offered in kind.
>If Prima were to comply with his offer, he'd also add a gentle poke on her snout to casualize the encounter just a little more.
"Once again, I must stress my deepest gratitude for what you've done for me today," he sincerely commented, trying to keep his holding just enough to symbolize his trust in her without making it too serious. "Will we be able to keep in contact for the foreseeable future? I may have some more questions as I keep learning more about Tallus and its many wonders and customs."
>That, and perhaps make Prima one of his many earnest friends for when the going gets tough.
>...maybe even more than that.

>Meanwhile, in his mind, he listed the potential options Lauterna had provided.
(Captain Shanis has Stalliongrad pegasi and earth ponies...
(Ferron could be an option, but test self-control...
(Malurian Druids are in a similar boat due to their culture...
(Arkadian Divides are ambitious archeologists and traders...
(Kingdom adherents are astoundingly great yet old. The latter does not seem like a disadvantage at first glance. Further studying is required...
(Crystal Imperials seem a little too free-spritied to be mareguards, but it's no reason not to keep them in mind as a temporal companion...
(Changelings are great but stigmatized in the same marener as us in the region I wish to work on, so it's quite the gamble...
(More options are out there, so keep an open spot to see if we can find a diamond in the rough...
(Avoid wholly trusting nobles who are tentative to help Razorback. They might be prone to change their mind at the slightest shift in power dynamics, possibly.)
Razorback Fortress: Rookie Barrack West
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349974
349982
>>349971
"No apologies please, it is no burden. They are comfortable at their duties and I am content to allow them individual peculiarities."
>Lauterna steps forwards to extend a hoof, but before she can touch the batmare clears her throat abruptly, the sound a miniature thunder peal.
>Three electric blue wingclaws grasp your hand lightly, the feel of warm polished stone despite heavy pressure against skin, though the underprincess' face reads as miffed beyond comprehension'
>Her Honor Guard tosses a wide grin, then lets go.
>Must be an injoke.
>Emitting a low giggle at the boop, Lauterna politely accepts the greeting with a tiny head shake, her pad covered in soft cotton lace.
"Do forgive the 'antics' of a sort. It is customary of Prance's royalty to have one Mareguard entwine the ankle or knee as a welcoming greeting first, both to display trust and to examine for possible physical weakness thus ensuring no harm is dealt. Batponies are naturally excluded, their claws have much greater control. And are most amusing. In Canterlot-"
>Side-eyeing the unicorn to her left in palpable distaste, the targeted mare shifts uneasily.
"There is an expectation of a formal bow oft followed by a kiss to the hoof, among other tiresome theatrics. The games played by statesmares are offensive, they serve no purpose besides wasting time and chasing clout."
>Eyebrows raising thoughtfully, the platinum-white Prenchmare's lips curl back, not quite a frown.
"I would share a great deal more were dawn not approaching. As I have little contact on this side of the world aside from honoring Princess Celestia or visiting my friends, my duties-"
>Snorting the word out in relief.
"In Prance are limited to three, perhaps four functions per week. Stamping trade agreemarents, settling civil disputes, officiating a mareriage, that sort. Legally speaking, I am entitled to far more but I prefer to allow greater civil self-rule, it is better to step in only when vital or necessary. That is one lesson Prance has historically failed. Twice."
>Patting your palm lightly with a rueful smile, Lauterna retrieves her hoof, taking a step back and settling into a relaxed pose.
"The matter of procuring armor is equally difficult. I ponifally suggest that you do not use Solar armors such as these."
>Lifting both wings to point at the Honor Guards.
"Nor should you wear Stalliongrad or Rushyan made armors. An excellent refit and paint would not be enough to dissuade a keen eye. Fairly, most any style shall do. There is a small change of that course: three weeks prior I was able to convince my.."
>Glancing down at the floor in abrupt fury, her jaw clenches several times before continuing, the tone barely controlled.
"Eldest surviving sister to allow Razorback the rights of salvage to the entirety of an abandoned Equestrian town or city. Such was done in typical, that is to say lazy, Canterlot fashion: the missive was delivered a bare week prior. If I must be fair to her, I did not request specifics nor a time frame."
>Only the bizarre batmare shows interest at the underprincess' words, the right side of her muzzle and slitted eye displaying a snide attitude.
"Equestria does not trade much more than amarenities, food, alchemicals, reagents, and services to marecenaries due to cottage industries and being spread apart. Likewise there is little private interest in equipping and maintaining more than one's civil militia and town guard though there are likely independents whom would do such. My apologies on this matter, I try not to spend time here. As for my homeland.."
>Lifting a hoof to rub her chin delicately, Lauterna's eyes lose focus in thought.
"Of the first two hundred humans to arrive on Tallus there were ten allowed to both Prance and Germaneigh yet those numbers have increased considerably in the past two years. I do not know why though I think.. nevermind. Those in Prance have joined the Germaneighan aligned in the past half year due to the early reports of Shrikes being confirmed by numerous parties. I have come across information there are more humans spread elsewhere in limited numbers. Excuse me, I am well off track. Situations across Tallus are quite difficult all around."
"With regards to the original agreemarent, all factions would support the largest one, that being Razorback, according to how many humans they would receive. It-"
>Halting herself angrily, Lauterna glares towards the batmare whom flicks her ears politely.
"I will NOT discuss this again."
"Get outta here La, I won't be long."
>The tinged batpony's voice was half-rumbling distant thunder, half a smooth, softly amused cackle.
>Lauterna spins about with her Maregaurds following suit, striding towards the now open door and exiting the room.

"Now I'm stuck with an empty altar and a rotten barrel of mangoes. No time like the present then!"
>Kicking back on her hooves, the batmare's head swivels straight onto you with a grim face.
"Does Razorback or you even know about the deal they were supposed to get, or do I gotta start from the beginning?"
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.349981
349986
>>349875
>Mallia's thoughts shifted towards the visibly nervous Witch-Two's ASCII image. The Enginseer promptly conjures a streak of binary to gently "poke" the ASCII avatar of the Admiral on the arm as Mallia delivers a response.
(We will be fineee.~ The Storm Trooper's performance is hampered but that does not mean I cannot pick up the slack. We're a team after all!)
(And besides, he's doing great! He hasn't raised his voice, growled, or made vaguely hostile motions, even unconsciously!)
(I'm moreso hoping that he doesn't take his shortcomings too hard...)

>Casting a look back towards Chisan as his voice reached her Vox, her bright viridian eyes smile at him in a look that she hoped might be reassuring by virtue of her innate confidence.
>Swiftly, she turned her full attention back to Olympa! A quirk of her brow showing surprise at her implying that she eats 'metals'.
(Extremomorph dietary needs I guess? Makes sense--she's made of plasma. She might not even have organs the same way we do, let alone a stomach.)
(Though I don't really have soft metals to feed her...)
>Then the Enginseer's smile grows to a childishly cheerful grin, which is followed by a peppy, high-pitched little giggle from the woman as the Sunspot denies being cute.
"Hahaha!"
"What do you meaaann you are not cute?~"
>Mallia closes the distance a little quicker now, with a cheerful little loping step that clatters with the heavy sound of her combat boot hitting the hard floor.
>In the same motion, her hand goes to the flowing mane of the Sunspot and applies VIP GREETING PROTOCOLS!
"Patpat."
>Two (somewhat brave) pats dare to land on the previously incadescent plasma-filly with an exceeding mirth in Mallia's motions and in her viridian eyes.
"Youu... OLYMPA, are positively adowable."
"One could even say that you're a little ray of sunshine. Heheh~ Hmh~"
>Mallia's hands, as they gain confidence from NOT melting to ash, start petting and going to Olympa's ear to give it a careful, two-fingered rub along the length. Unconsciously considering the consistency of Olympa's mane and fur, how it felt as she touched it.
>Meanwhile, her mechadendrite flicking and whirring softly behind her, wiggling about a little erratically as it loosens excitements bleeding from the enginseer's playful mood until it eventually comes to rest on her shoulder like some weird metal snake.

>As her hand comes to rest on her thigh from patting Olympa, it lands on her thigh and then kneels down near the filly.
>Just in case the "ritual" required the other party to also give headpats.
>Headpats are nice anyway.
"But that aside...! I am glad to meet you and I hope we can make friends!"
"... First though, I wanna let you meet my friends here."
>Though at the same she also looked over at Naskha, inviting her closer with a swift motion of her hand.
>Mallia excitedly shifts a little on her knee to better glance back at her comrades.
"That one is Nasiksta. My protector!"
>Mallia's mechadendrite clapping it's little manipulator claw in the background, quietly.
>clik clik! clik clik!

>She does cast a glance towards Chisan, tempted to introduce him in the same breath. But seeing him so despaired urge her to just... Give him a second.

(... Byy the way, do we have enough data regarding Sunspots? Should we be spooling up the Auspex to scan Olympa?)
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.349982
350035
>>349974
>Prima needn't worry about being offended by the sudden gesture, as José couldn't help but smirk amusedly at the little scene of hand strength testing from Prench customs.
>He listened on in rapt attention to her various nuggets of valuable information and advice, subtly leaning his back forwards.
>One thing's for sure: He's got to visit Prance sometime.
>The other matter is to avoid Solar armors for his future mareguards.
>Not even the Stalliongrad or Rushyan ones.
>A part of him solemnly lamented the current state of affairs that he couldn't properly explore said world without some heavy preparation and a ton of diplomatic elbow grease, as well as a mountain of favors.
>Yet he optimistically figured that with enough time and effort, he could eventually win back their favor if he honed his poltiical skills and quell any and all qualms against him and his species.

>As the royal mare hastily stopped herself from revealing any more of what seemed to be a massive bother to her and the batmare took the lead, Gallo turned to face the grim mare with a slightly concerned look.
"I can't speak for the entirety of Razorback," the man carefully replied "but I have been here for a mere day and there's still so much I don't know about."
>With that said, he soon offered to provide the batpony with some gentle ear scritching to try and ease the discomfort to come.
"You can stick to the short version if you'd prefer" he added alongside his fingers of comfort. "I do not want to open up old wounds, even if it might be useful to me."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349985
350044
>>349934
>Bubba would look up in surprise, eyebrows raising as he spots the train's Engineer.
>His anger at the moment fading away for a bit of shock.
"I wasn't expecting to see you again... for quite a while."
>He shook his head politely, declining the offer.
>"Or at all, to be honest."
>Bubba completely sat down, one leg stretched out with the other brought up to his chest.
Imminent Retrieval: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.349986
350115
>>349981
>Transmission received, the image flows into an artificial pictcording: the Admiral jolts upright in visible surprise, all limbs flailing, then falls backwards while the heavy Guardsman turns to point point down at her.
'and you complained about me not paying attention. you know thats always a possibility to codetouch so whos the idiot this time?'
'Stop talking, right now!'
>Loud static emits from the Auspex unit, Tox-11's infectious booming laughter filling the room.
>Chisan switches from facepalm to merely crossing his arms, furiously trying not to smirk.
>On the other side Nashka snickers into her hands, meanwhile the Sunspot's ears perk forwards.
"Is that one of your friends? I can feel ghosts and Spectrals around me sometimes but it takes a while to find them."

>Biting his cheeks at the voxcaster going silent, the Storm Trooper nods in return just as Andronal takes on a contemplative tone.
'highly plausible if fusion-fission reactions are natively controlled. possible taste aspects relating to material functions?'
'Correction: Administratum Mechanicus studies have long correlated atomic particulates to have a defined quotient factor when utilized as reactor fuel. Uranium and plutonium were denoted to have bitter reactions due to sub-random atomic fluctuations. Soft metals such as copper, silver, nickel, gold, platinum were considered sweet due to their more consistent atomic fluctuations. A fascinating case study should it be corroborated.'

>At first shaking her head, Olympa stops, eyes rolling and hanging her wings in defeat.
"Maaaybe a little bit."
>Accepting the touch with a curious expression, her previously on fire mane was now slightly below a lukewarm barrel, and despite the appearance it felt like a single sheaf of softly brushed real cloth.
>The Sunspot makes a round fishface, quickly turning into a snicker and flapping her wings once.
"Fine, you win! Just don't put me on a windowsill and ask when the Sun is up 'cause I'd rather sleep."
>Unlike her mane the ears were covered in a thin layer of fine hairs, equal to Raindrop's high body temperature.
>Eyes closing at the constant attention, Olympa's snout wiggles in what you took to be happy motions.
"This feels really nice. Reminds of floating around in lava ponds.. maybe sitting in a bonfire."
>Cracking one eye open to inspect the girl's now relaxed stance, the other opens as a wide smile takes over her face, the front left instantly snapping up.
"Are you from.. Rushya?!"
>Something you said definitely sparked interest.

>Doing her best not to appear surprised, Nashka slides forwards to kneel down next to you, taking the furiously wiggling hoof with both hands.
"Am from Russia on Otherworld, is like but not sa-"
"You're Otherworldly too?! This is perfect! We're all friends now 'cause I love Rushya! Stalliongrad is too cold for me but that's okay too!"
>Casting a 'what were we doing here?' look in your direction, the Vostroyan predecessor simply accepts the excited plasma filly's attention.
"Glad meet you O-lym-pah, w-"
"Were you born in the Uran Mountains?"
"N-"
"Where's your family crest?"
"I-"
"What IS your family crest? Do you have mountain seals and water dragons there too? Oh, what about vine melons?"
>Failing to suppress an unabashed grin, Nashka's situation readout was: hopelessly enthusiastic.

>Giving a short 'not yet' hand signal, the Scion turns to call down the hallway.
"Raindrop, please bring the squad here along with yourself, there is an ally of your ancestors here!"
"Wait what, there's MORE of you from Rushya?! Hello there!"
*"Oh fra-"*
>Muting the Scion's half-laugh amid the Sunspot's, Tox-11 pings back a list of newly created, sorted, revised, organized, and rapidly filling datafiles.
'theres never enough data castella. still cross referencing and running diagnostics of first five scans, will let you know where to scan soon'
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.349988
350046
>>349933
>I stare and question why she was making an entire lesson on the pegasi for me.
>Probably to lightly distract herself.
>Glancing down at the skipper, I quickly shrug to myself and resume petting it, content in knowing I didn't have to worry about it detonating in my lap for the time being.
>At least its cute.

"No, what's above us. We have a... way of being able to tell when something feels off."

>Grimacing, I watch it for a brief moment, before idly motioning upwards.
"We're not under an overcast sky, Wild. Those clouds are way too... low quality for naturally, or pegasi, occurring clouds."
>Quickly tracing them with my finger, I do some fast math.
"Too orderly, and they're more or less thirty kilometers long each."
>I shift and observe for a moment.
"Plus those clouds are moving north in a way that anything natural wouldn't. I've seen clouds plenty of times while here, I highly doubt that they 'pulse' while moving through the sky."
August 18th, 2012, 1443 Military Time/2:42PM Standard
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.349989
349992
1384304492938.jpg
Question: what is one of humanity's worst enemies that can appear any time, any where, with no rationale whatsoever?

Answer: Boredom, the Mindkiller, AKA That Which Lurks Longest.

How then may one slay boredom and keep it at bay longer? Bring a friend. How about two friends? Three, four, five? Why not as many as humanly possible?

On one minute, barely distinguishable from any other, the lives of 62 horsefuckers, writefags, newbies, rookies, and pastel appreciators would irrevocably change.

Image #1: dredged from the blackest abyss of classified documents, removed from its hollow resting place by the combined hatred of niggers and faggots, unsealed by the shards of ten thousand empty liquor bottles, unwrapped by the efforts of countless horse enthusiasts before us, and finally, released with a single iota of pride.

48 men divided into three assault teams of 16 men each.
8 men divided into 4 marksman/sniper sections of 2 men each.
1 cook.
1 Grill Master.
1 Booze Organizer.
3 base guards.

As always such a union could not last. Hope alone is never enough to maintain interest. The test most failed was how long could such a large group remain consistent, accept the most basic of rules which would prevent scumfuckery or drama, and not turn into retardedly desperate power fantasy murder hobos.

Honestly it only took 2 hours before the selection process was finalized, at which point most the idiots lost interest since they couldn't simply do whatever the fuck they wanted. That's not the point.

The original idea had little spice: kill a bunch of Diamond Dogs and after surviving 15 years you get to become a citizen? The French Fucking Foreign Legion is a million times better than that.

The above has no long term draw. Sure, it could make an interesting one-shot, but no more. What it didn't do was attract people that wouldn't simply explore a story. A few of us, writefags, Forever GM's, Forever Players, among others, desired more: for all to TAKE PART in many and marely stories, whenever or wherever they had the time.

Discussion is multi-sided. Agreements must be rationalized, weighed, considered. Objections, interjections, refusals of flaws take place. Focus is given to adding spice, individuality, character, and most importantly: substance.

The previous iteration of #Operators in Equestria failed due to lacking substance as simple writefagging allowed people to release their full retardation. It.. wasn't pretty. There's a couple hundred reasons no one wants to remember much of that early shit.

What the restart needed in particular was an easy to read, deploy, and use rule set. It was then that a number dice players asked: "Why don't we make this a Text Based Dice RPG? That way no one can powergame or go full stupid omni-everything guy." The suggestion was agreed to, and then-

Discussions quickly broke the fuck down:
Three GM's declared: "MY dice system is the best so FUCK YOU I will not budge!" Thankfully most everyone ignored them.

Five more GM's, two Forevers, two long timers, and a fun I'm Getting There! novice talked about what dice system would be the easiest to use for both novice and master. They conceded two points: the more bullshit and powergaming prone dice systems would be utterly useless, and that any decisions made must be done so as a whole. These five decided that Simple D6+ would be the basis, while borrowing systems from Enhanced D6 and D6 Expanded+ were useful to future proof later efforts in case of massive rewrites, revisions, or total format changes.

Ignoring """input""" from the first three, two of the five began already writing out basic plans, backstories, histories, locations, and much, much more.

Meanwhile, the other three of five stepped up their recruiting efforts, keeping the thread going with on-topic and up to date discussions of what was going on in the background, giving estimates on time frames, and allowing snippets on when the first Operation might start.

There's a great deal of history that's not stated here, including fifty some hours of mIRC chat logs. In the background, those three fuckups were avidly attempting to sabotage the idea and ruthlessly demanding others bow to their self-superior ways. Just like in communism: when the ideas of everyone else are OFFENSIVE, then everyone else MUST BE WRONG and they HAVE TO BE PUNISHED. Their 'efforts' didn't last more than three days.

After a stress free period of free writing, cooperation, lots of coffee, cigarettes, and booze, the five GM's halted their three-day Marathon. Reading over the vast backgrounds written down, hallmarking further ideas, discussing later systems, four of the five greatly approved, aside from minor format changes and spellchecks. One of those five, however, did not feel the same way. It is that one currently writing, but this part of the story would have no impact for the first week.

Two of the three fuckups relented from their quarreling and accepted the "basic but y'know this actually looks interesting to use" D6 system. A magical time was had when the last one screeched "but it won't last because I SAY it won't last! It's too simple, too easy, too accessible! It won't drive away all the normies!" It was then that the majority of players realized he was talking about himself.

The first Operation. It was a quick, simple setup, quite par for the course when everyone was just beginning to hammer out their own writing formats, and getting used to rolling dice. Little rough around the edges, basic, but the task itself was simple: start the train's engine NOW, we are about to fucking leave and everyone not on board is going to be left behind. None could have predicted that task would eventually carry the heaviest of weights.

As a much wiser man stated: "it cannot be certain that truth will be uncovered by the curious nor the honest". More details shall go missing, except for this: it was the beginning of a magical journey. One that has not ended.

Post #1/2.
August 18th, 2012, 1500 Military Time/3:00PM Standard
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.349992
349993
>>349989
100 humans from 100 different worlds were summoned to Equestria, the majority arriving during or after their death. A few were delivered strange, formal letters of acceptance, the writing unusual, the name a complete unknown. Who, however, would refuse such a gift from a Princess? Not one threw their letter away.

Between the larger numbers of /k/ommandos and smaller number of curious men, the excitement was boiling over. To quote a certain man: "It's time."

The briefing was short, simple, and to the point: Princess Celestia required Razorback Company to undertake a discreet action in reclaiming an 'old asset', supposedly a campsite in a mountain forest. Giving the false estimate of "six kilometers" by train in an effort to prevent certain ponies from taking advantage of Razorback, the Solar Princess used their departure to begin formal preparations for their eventual return.

Of course, nothing was ever simple when humans are involved.

Tensions simmered for reasons mundane, magical, and everything inbetween, though no one committed that most serious act: infighting. Hours passed in the relative quiet of night, the Operators settling in and debating their new life on this strange world of magical pastel equines. It was then that the first indications of something terribly wrong ring out: loud shrieks in the buffet car along with the overflowing stench of acid.

The first enemy, or perhaps the first indication of the troubles plaguing Equestria, was a vaporous being in the shape of a pony, yet worse: the 'body' was one object. Capable of forming projections, weapons, and distorting itself into simulated shapes, including firearms, the creature rampages through the car injuring a dozen Operators, wounding the majority at least once, but was unable to secure a kill.

The combined efforts damage the creature into an incoherent sodden mass of wet blue gelatin-like substance, though in the center remained a fist sized, dull white sphere. One man dares to pick up the sphere, while another claims a set of bizarre crystal-like shards. Perhaps, a few of the Operators mused to each other, the situation in Equestria wasn't deteriorating: there was a lack of status quo, one that needed to be corrected by Otherworldly beings with no connection to external influences.

Soon afterwards those Operators whom took part in destroying the creature were rewarded for their actions. Among the prizes were two that stood out: a letter addressed from a Marquis, and an armored batpony Night Guard doll that was indestructible by normal means. None of Razorback questioned where the gifts came from, nor did they in the future.

Throughout the whole time a certain dipshit had gone on his own tirade of self-fulfilling power fantasies, ignoring the rules that were clearly set down, making up his own, and generally being the worst dipshit possible. The /b/tards were first to call him out, surprising everyone else. He'll be mentioned more times.

As most of the GM's quit for the night (or day, that one lucky bastard), two decided to continue writing and revising background documents and systems while keeping an eye on the thread. It was no surprise that the same dipshit went on another tirade and got slapped the fuck out. That event has, since then, been affectionately referred to as The Slappening. In a case of just desserts, the dipshit takes multiple head injuries in a row, sustaining a massive concussion and passing out.

A few more disagreements later, much smaller in scope, the train was quiet once more til dusk. After a partial night's sleep (5 GM's worth), they discussed what would occur next on the train ride. Luckily, one of the still-awake GM's hopped on to deliver their heavily modified and finally finished version of the Enhanced D6 system that used consecutive rolls to determine random events. Scaling from 1 to 6, 1 being bad/terrible/awful, to 6 being great/best/unexpected, it was quickly put to use.

A peculiarly dapper unicorn in spectacles and covered in bandages arrives on the train, presumably aided by [REDACTED]. Without bothering to explain his own situation, he declares to Razorback that he was Princess Celestia's diplomat, that he will be ambushed 'for the fifth time', and at current, he is their employer and they had best protect him. It was then that a massive flying creature to the south was spotted, one that would eventually become the best and worst enemy those humans of Razorback would face.

Equestrian scholars and researchers all agree The Hyfalgryph is an Eldritch being that hails from an entirely separate and unexplored omniverse within a self-contained spectrum. It is freely able to traverse most otential realities, dimensions, spectrums, Planes of existence, omniverses, and immaterial fields without suffering undue harm. The method by which it protects itself is a multilayered self-fulfilling entropic state, physically appearing as armor resembling scales. The scales themselves are not directly connected, spaced by a thin layer of membrane that functions as skin. The worst part, most humans think, is its choice of weapon: music.

The Hyfalgryph is no stranger to human music, and has traversed millions of Otherworlds searching for the most catchy tunes. What it has in taste, it lacks in self-defense. The Operators of Razorback open fire on the gryphon-hippo-dragon abomination as it does the same, releasing a visceral blast of sound as its opening strike.

Musical duels are either spectacular to watch or conducive to the worst of nightmares for life. For the most part Razorback opts to shoot rather than accept the challenge. This goes poorly, the Abomination savaging the entire Company until taking note of three particular humans, inviting them for a dueling challenge.

In short order, two complete the duel and The Hyfalgryph concedes those man did, indeed, have the funk, leaving two of its precious scales. Meanwhile, the dipshit from before is cancelled.

Post #2/2, The Second Night Ends.
September 2, 2012, 1813 Military Time/6:13PM Standard
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.349993
349997
>>349992
Now safe from The Hyfalgryph whom fucks off, the VIP seats himself to rest and recover. Amusingly only two Operators realize the VIP's injuries were due to the Eldritch Abomination.

Soon after another set of rewards is given out to those that aided, including several more hoofmade hats of near-French make. It was a shame they never investigated the source.

More altercations ensue with the dipshit. Between slapping someone else, chucking a teapot at another man's head, then returning fire to knock out an Operator, it was here he was finally on everyone's 'delete that fucking faggot at first chance' list.

Around midnight, long after most of the Day, Royal, and Honor Guard had gone to sleep, a new pony face arrives in the buffet car, that of a curly-coated pegasus mare. Politely offering to serve drinks and food, what would become another frenemy of Razorback states the least suspicious sentence ever:
"I hope you all like trout."

One Operator recalls that the buffet team had decided to GTFO. Several others delude themselves into thinking the new pony is a threat. Questions are asked, an interrogation occurs, answers are given. The pony states herself to be a 'former' Night Guard, which some Operators take to be an even bigger threat. Magazines are reloaded, grenades are silently passed around, preparations made. Then a filthy mujihadeen goes and scares the pony by attempting a surprise allahu snackbar. What ensues next: absolute. fucking. chaos.

Shrieking at the sandboy three times in to make space and get him out of her immediate vicinity, three Operators open fire as the jihadi crumples into a ball. Then, a tear gas grenade is thrown as six more vapor 'ponies' reveal themselves in a coordinated surprise attack, one Operator immediately grabbing the VIP and hauling him towards the Engineer car.

Beating down the vapor ponies with considerable injuries to several, a certain Doctor unleashes his grenade launcher while while multiple hails of buckshot and rifle fire now ring throughout the car. Razorback succeeds in damaging every fucking thing, including each other several times, while the Night Guard has encounters no problems trampling most of the multiple squishy, barely armored humans she could get at.

During this time the dipshit pulls the last straw and is point blank deleted by a shotgun. That man is still owed a debt to this day.

Fully resisting another grenade, several more shells full of buckshot, and a heavy rifle round, the pegasus pushes in the shit of 8 Operators, forces more into GTFO'ing, but a brave few remain standing long enough to lasso and attempt wrangling protocols... IMMEDIATELY broncobusting the fuck out of another two into severely injured status and nearly killing three more. Fortunately, one Operator knew how to dance with the pegasi. That, dear friends, is a story of how the ride must never end, for good, or ill.

After defeat was conceded, a strange man makes his first entrance to Razorback. Armed with nothing more than a tuxedo, a gambler's debt, and a flat attitude, the human gestalt known as Anonymous makes his intentions clear: 'please don't fuck up, my ass is riding this rollercoaster just like all of you'.

[It was here that another GM arrives, one that immediately sets about to reformatting all of the various documents to much simpler, easier to read and cross-reference standards. Those of us that remember you still do, sir, and we will not forget your contributions nor the aid that allows us to continue.]

Another day passes between conversation, chatter, and recovering from injuries sustained. An hour or two before dusk, the train comes to a halt, and half a kilometer ahead is the remains of a 'small' castle. Razorback then learns that the 'camp site' was never an intended target, nor was the location six kilometers away. It was instead the remains of Old Canterlot, a vast fortress city-state which had been abandoned for nearly a thousand years. Princess Celestia's goal for Razorback was clear: find out what the fuck was going on, make it safe, and formally claim it as their base.

However, as a result of the Trout Incident, Razorback would have no information on what the events surrounding their first mission meant, nor what possible dangers were inside. Though crumbling from weather and depredation, it was presumed that the internal structure wasn't too horribly damaged and only a few humans would attempt to breach the ruin in case of Shit Going Wrong. A single roll from all the active awake Operators was made to determine whom goes.. then an Operator makes a severe tactical mistake: attempting to be silent. He critically fails, which backfires GREATLY!

Another six vapor 'ponies' decloak themselves, four of which are immediately wiped out, the remaining two unharmed and charging in. A counter-charge is made destroying them, though the remaining being releases a spray of acid which burns the mujihadeen in ways that were definitely not legal.

While those injured take a bit of time to recover from their recent wounds, the jihadi takes a different course of action: locating and successfully impaling a giant vapor 'pony'. Yes, that means rape. No, it's still illegal if they're barely sentient. Those that care enough to save the snackbar do so, vaporizing it with concentrated weapons fire.

A total of eight Operators are given the green light to proceed into the ruins of Old Canterlot, rushing past a group of veteran armored vapor 'ponies' that were too stunned to move as their main gestalt had been violated.

Upon opening Old Canterlot's doors, a profound, agonizing sight awaits them, that of a long dead pony clad in damaged remnants of archaic Solar armor. Tonelessly declaring the Operators to be Tyrant Celestia's executioners, General Sharonel of the Solar Guardians greets them. One Operator, unable to control his impulses, immediately opens fire though the rest opt for diplomacy. The first mistake.

Post #1/2, The Collapse.
November 4, 2012, 2055 Military Time/8:55PM Standard
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.349997
>>349993
Ignoring the insignificant wound yet angered by the offensive as she had not yet raised her hooves first, Sharonel accepts the requests from three humans to speak: "I have waited a thousand years. What is another minute, or hour?"

Granting one question from each, Sharonel answers to them:
That she has waited a thousand years for vindication, stating that she cannot justify her pain of controlling the vapor 'ponies', which would later become known as 'The Tainted', any longer.

That she had been in Old Canterlot for too long, and would not allow her former Princess of the Sun to return without dealing with the problem, that being Sharonel herself. Stating she expected Celestia's elite, Sharonel believes that they are merely occupied elsewhere, and Razorback will instead be her challenge.

That she did not suffer the illusions of her life or death, and still felt the pain of those that followed her into their doom.

That she couldn't eat whatever 'spam' was, though she wished to.

That the last Operator's question was... wrong. Exclaiming the Operator accused her of frightening Princess Celestia, Sharonel declares that he would die for his insult, and that after his death would savage hu`um worlds for her own satisfaction.

The second, least worst mistake.

Despite her majorly decayed physical state, the Lancer General of the Day Guard retained her skills, knowledge, and techniques but most importantly still held the Lance of Magnus, the First Marquis, an archaic silverine weapon capable of producing severe flame enchantmarents with a thought. Savaging the humans with difficulty and ignoring all harm dealt to her, the human compliment is immediately and severely outmatched by their unexpected enemy. Crippling one into near death and downing another, the weight of human words tears at the enraged Undead mare's spirit even though they were Otherworldly.

Although the humans would be unable to kill her, the damaged Lance of Magnus would no longer function properly it was still a lethal weapon, and she had lost an eye. Despite her own misgivings towards the former Solar Tyrant, and still not fully believing Princess Celestia had returned to her full senses in the past millennia, there was enough truth outside her single-mindedness that Sharonel opted to trust them. The third and final mistake, one that still haunts Razorback.

Dismissing the eight Operators from their otherwise useless assault and proclaiming a short sentence that must be repeated to the former Tyrant, Sharonel then turns to address the countless Tainted surrounding them all. Singing the opening line to a sorrow-ridden, calm melody, Old Canterlot's weight, the horrors it had experienced, the grief from thousands of Tainted, and last Sharonel's long restrained psionic prowess buckles every last support within the ancient city-state.

Barely escaping with their physical lives intact, the Operators return to the train. The Sun then began to rise over the deeply settled ruins. The wording of Princess Celestia's request had been completed, yet the spirit was left broken and empty.

One Operator, internally wounded from the experience, sought out the unicorn VIP, previously stating his name to be Denra, and another for information on Princess Celestia's instructions. Admitting that he had chickened out before sending the eight in due to fear and Denra would not accept responsibility for what might occur due to his injuries from the Hyfalgryph, the second Operator let slip that he'd been listening in.

For his part, Denra took the implications of that failure harshly, stating that when they reached New Canterlot he would immediately resign and turn to other, more ponial matters, ones that he felt more fitting.

It was at this point Denra felt honest anger towards Princess Celestia. Furious at his 'failure' and lacking clarity to understand the reasons behind Sharonel's death, the diplomat begins to plot the Sun's destruction.

Part #2/2, The Collapse.
November 5, 2012, 1526 Military Time/3:26PM Standard
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.349998
Returning to the still standing, if barely, station 500M from the ruin, a number of Operators noticed a number of unusual tracks, sounds, and missing items, mostly food and alcohol, while their own firearms, weapons, and electronics were completely untouched. Several more quickly remembered the same occurring each time that Tainted had appeared. Investigating more thoroughly, two Operators locate the imprints of ponyshoes across most of the train, smaller than unicorn tracks, except those had been covered by thin socks.

One Operator comes across a stealthy number of individual tracks, estimating the total number to be at least forty, while several more realize the shape to be from pegasi. The ambush had been freshly set, but the snare was tripped by another Operator realizing that the large number of stealthy sock-wearing pegasi were simply waiting to take advantage.. which had been lost.

Summoning the 'former' Night Guard General into combat, over a dozen Operators take defensive positions as the pegasi swarm above, far too marely to take out quickly. Striking first, several Operators open fire while another fails to crack open a nerve gas grenade, several of the raiders backing off at the unknown weapon. As the earth-pony sized Night Guard General tears into the bandits and raiders with extreme prejudice, a few more humans outside the train take cover and continue their assault.

Razorback's mostly successful defense prevents three humans from being dragged off, but the raiders inflict severe damage to several. Another nerve gas grenade is dispensed to good effect, shooing off five with a light dose. After twenty-five seconds of direct combat the Night Guard General returns to the ground, having demolished fifteen pegasi bandits in the air. Unable to continue and claiming that she had to cool off, the giant pegasus leaves to take cover behind the train. As the Operator watches her retreat, he notes the General's injuries were quickly healing over, much faster than most magic would allow.

Striking down more and more bandit pegasi in consecutive furious counterattacks, five humans are moderately to severely injured before the bandit leader states they were desperate due to Tainted exiting Old Canterlot, making it impossible to trade for food and supplies. The leader is then forcefully taken down, but inflicts several broken bones on two more humans.

Returning to the former melee, General Twisted Wing stops to check each downed bandit, taking her time to examine the blue and green painted ones most of all. Reacting to several questions evasively, Twisted half-heartedly explains the raider and bandit pegasi to be 'part of a wandering clan', and would normally be trading instead of stealing. Requesting a fire be built close to the train and to leave the other pegasi alone, she questions several Operators as to why Old Canterlot Fortress was gone, and what happened.

Still not giving direct answers, Twisted Wing's numerous and rather major head injuries, despite healing at an abnormally accelerated rate, prevent her from recalling the Ferron clans normally traded for food from batponies in the Moors. Given several details on the incident, the General was thoroughly aggrieved at learning Sharonel existed in an Undead state for nearly a millennia, only to be 'dealt with' harshly and, to her mind, dishonorably.

Giving zero care to the injured pegasi, none of whom had life threatening injures (of those she didn't care for), Twisted Wing went on to excoriate their lack of diplomarecy. Upon receiving an answer to 'why were the Ferron hungry', a veteran Sea's Bounty mare, later learned to be one of her older nieces, responded with the following: 'the mist ones destroyed our food stockpiles'. After decades of living with the various Ferron clans, both her own Sea's Bounty sub-clan and the Lishanki bandits/raiders, Twisted was willing to accept that they told the truth. Asking a trade of one week's worth of food to resettle the Sea's Bounty, and giving all of the rest medical care, General Twisted Wing leaves the matter settled.

Soon afterwards another visit from the human gestalt Anonymous occurs. This time he had won-but-also-lost a bet against a strange, tall equine with black patchwork skin, numerous holes covering the body, green wings resembling those of a delicate insect, lastly having a horn with unusual protrusions and mars. Mentioning that such successes and defeats were being carefully tracked by 'other parties', in particular the Queen whom had just shown herself, Anon leaves.
November 6, 2013, 1500 Military Time/3:PM Standard
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.350001
[At this point a break was concluded. Approximately 20 Operators had joined, an equal number had left, another GM was added to the mix, one toxic bitch of a GM left, and the originals of what would become the pastebin records & documents were mostly finished due to four GM's in constant communication with each other on mIRC. Several reformats later, everything an Operator needed to know was accessible within three clicks, a Ctrl+F, and a key word or two.]

Razorback was recovering at the train station from wounds both physical and immaterial. Both the Sea's Bounty sub-clan and Lishanki bandit/raiders had moved on, Twisted Wing joining the first. While attempting to enjoy the scenery, eight Operators make the mistake of venturing too deeply into the Old Everfree Forest. Encountering a variety of bizarre creatures, plants, reptile-plant hybrids, plant-SOMETHINGS, and a Young hydra, the Operators react with their standard 'KILL EVERYTHING TRYING TO EAT US!' mindset. It works.. at least until one Operator is showered with reptilian fecal material from planting his boot so far up the Young Hydra's digestive system that it found nowhere else to go except OUT. Which was horribly followed up by two more Operators diving into the Young Hydra's anal cavity in the search for useful body parts. One Operator in particular turns around and N O P E S the fuck right out, knowing that even Big Boss would have shot both of them.

Later that day, Denra, the former diplomat VIP, had had enough. Still faking a 'strained relationship' with General Twisted Wing, he invites a small team of humans to meet with Queen Chrysalis. Disguising his intentions under the ploy of having Razorback find out what the Queen's intentions were, especially after 'borrowing' another Operator for a short time, Denra sends eight to The Hive.

Arriving at the painfully organic outer shell from Denra's diplomatic badge initiating a formal translocation, one Operator is internally disturbed, yet remains calm at the dead, staring green eyes of numerous Changelings. Outside the black chitin and holes everywhere, he maintains his composure enough to show off the badge and request admittance.

Initially greeted by a Warden-class phenotype, the voiceless unicorn-like Changeling accepts the request, leading them to the Inner Hive while taking on a ceremonial marener. Outside the preparations for blowing a way out using explosives, Razorback is neither accosted not halted. Reaching the Inner Hive in short order, the eight Operators are informally greeted by Queen Chrysalis on a throne comprised of Changeling carapace, having been quickly awoken by the Warden's marental urgings.

Receiving those eight, and utterly ignoring their explosives, Chrysalis focuses on the more important questions asked of her. Dismissing one Operator for his perceived lack of tact and knowledge, the rest are answered with a distinct lack of excitemarent. Admitting that she waylaid an Operator on the train and absorbed his memories, the Queen's early deception that occurred before the Ferron sub-clans' raid is left unsaid: she does not state WHICH human, nor how. Remember that for later.

Stating that she desired a 'return to the old days', Chrysalis reveals part of the extent to which the Hive had fallen on difficult times due to stealing the voices of all Changelings. Acknowleding an unusual scar on her armored forehead, the Queen carefully states that it was dealt to her, 'my lesson was learned', due to a near-death experience. Again dodging the which Operator had been copied, Chrysalis halts Razorback's further inquiries on her intentions by stating she wanted to speak with Denra again, and that Princess Cadenza's marental wounds had still not healed.

As the Warden returns all eight Operators back to the Hive's entrance, one of them recognizes that since Changelings could not 'speak' aloud, nor sing together with Crystal ponies as they once did, their continual psionic contact was the problem: they were unable to purge the negative effects of their moods, instead equally sharing their pain.

Returned to the train once again, one of the three fuckup GM's decides that it was time to End The Ride, pulling the trigger on his pistol and splattering his brains out everywhere. IT WAS A SIMPLE FUCKING QUESTION YOU DEADBEAT, HALF-KIKED, MARXIST-STALINIST LOVING NIGGERCUCKFAGGOT: "Could you add a bit more description to your GM posts? This isn't a PUG (Pick Up-and-play Group) and most everyone enjoys the longer format instead of short one-liners and tiny explanations." Fuck you, (((Comrade)))! I give my oath now that if you did NOT fuck off to some pathetic demise in jewcrane, I will track your worthless jew-loving microdick self down in the middle of World Whore Fucking 3 just to nerve gas you then piss on your twitching corpse! Your dogshit contempt deserves nothing less.

After their visit to The Hive, Denra swiftly destroys his diplomatic badge, afterwards paying Razorback the sum he'd promised earlier. Stating that a barrack-fort was mostly built, though not where, he cautioned Razorback to be careful how much, when, and where they spent Bits.

Some time afterwards, a massive gift package containing fruits, nuts, vegetables, and near-human medical supplies arrives on the train. Inside is a large piece of quarts covered in unicorn runes and a note that read: 'Come see me in my office - Spiral'. The note's reverse contained a time, date, place, and the number of Operators allowed to visit: 5 in total.

Post #1/2: An Unlikely Ally.
November 7, 2013, 23:44 Military Time/11:44 Standard
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.350002
Selecting five humans, Denra explains 'Spiral' to be a reclusive unicorn in Canterlot. A well regarded researcher-noble with great distinction and master of numerous fields, particularly unique or rare creatures, the Marquis had exceptional knowledge of both the New and Old Everfree Forests.

Feeling that the reclusive unicorn would be more than willing to aid Razorback as they were 'unique creatures', Denra sends them off with little fanfare by throwing the inscribed quartz into a campfire that had been built earlier.

Arriving in Canterlot Underground before a pair of old double doors, the team wastes no time knocking despite the fact that there were other doors in what seemed to be a maintenance area. Admitting the five inside cheerfully, Razorback's representatives are welcomed to the Underground Archive by the Marquis himself, seated in a well worn chair that looked like, but was not, leather, and dressed in a silk vest. The vast underground room was lit by glow gloves, dozens of tables heavily laden with finished and unrecognizable experimarents, objects, books, among examples of flora and fauna that none of the humans were able to categorize.

Speaking with the humans shortly, then admitting his lack of ignorance as to Princess Celestia's decision to hire Otherworldly mercenaries, a question from one Operator on Necromarecy shocks the Marquis. Stating that Operator should cease talking, Spiral fails to notice a certain book being taken and read. Asking a favor of the Operators, Spiral denotes that he would be willing to trade for 'new flora and fauna' in the New Everfree. Marentioning a 'patch of green acid that attacks people', not one Operator questions what was meant.

[It would be discovered much later on that other humans had already arrived outside of the initial 100 in Equestria, and 100 more dispersed elsewhere.]

Actively dodging the question of what he was, or is, outside of being a researcher and collector, Spiral again fails to notice one Operator becoming possessed by a Naghtmare in the book that had been swiped. Offering to trade his knowledge for samples in the Everfree, the Marquis finally realizes what was occurring, then makes his distaste known as he can do nothing about it.

*NOTE: Naghtmares are semi-unique ponies 'reborn' through a combination of Necromarecy, Druidry, and Mysticism. Each are given distinct advantages according to the Element infused to each by Princess Luna. Early iterations of that process had a 1:50 success rate; by the time of the Lunar-Solar War it had been refined to 1:8.

Quickly reacting to the Operator's physical possession by numerous stunning punches and multiple doses of morphine, the Operators decide to leave, dragging him along. Another Operator exacerbates the situation, punching the possessed in his face which releases the trapped Acid Naghtmare. More resilient than they first expected, the physically 'rotten' Naghtmare does not react to weapons fire, savaging one Operator, then another in quick succession, focused on harming those that damaged it the most.

Summoning General Twisted Wing once more, now halfway recovered, along with the Wild Ride (an upgraded station wagon with a heavy machine gun mount) and two more Operators, one as driver, one as gunner.

The team's attempt at retreating continues to fail while Twisted Wing rips into the acid Naghtmare, successfully (barely) keep it pinned in place to keep it from moving. Razorback's Operatives finally destroying the body, the acid Naghtmare leaving no trace aside from a violent smog which they didn't notice retreating into the formerly possessed Operator. This would come back later.

Twisted Wing states she could not be seen near Canterlot and leaves immediately. After some PTSD care, Marquis du Spiral returns the Operators to their train, still in the New Everfree forest, where Denra was setting up Razorback's next meeting.

Post #2/2: An Unlikely Ally.
November 8, 2013, 1941 Military Time/7:71PM Standard
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.350003
Two days of slow travel on the train, mostly due to extensive damage caused by the Hyfalgrphy and Operators themselves, Razorback reaches a small coal station. (Charcoal is in high demarend and use; neither coal nor carbon-based oil exist on Tallus). Replenishing what they could from the remaining charcoal stocks and conduct further repairs, the Station-master states an abandoned mineral mine was 200M behind the station itself. Abandoned for at least a century, it was once known to produce good amounts of metals and gems, but the last miners had been driven out by 'something annoying'.

Taking up the position of Rookie Wrangler, one Operator takes three of the least experienced humans in. Compensating for their lack of equipment with borrowed gas masks and flashlights, the Rookie Wrangler overhears Denra betting 5,000 Bits if the team comes back with nothing. As the four enter the mine, it was still in excellent condition, albeit the estimate of a century's disuse couldn't be corroborated due to the location being sheltered.

Finding the upper mine section utterly stripped of valuables, the four make their way down into much more difficult air, the gas masks compensating somewhat for stagnancy. Hearing subtle, unidentified clicks deep below, the Operators continue downwards.

Beginning to choke, two of the Operators come across some valuables, the first a large chunk of native gold, the second a pile of small gems. Further locating a moderate sized piece of native silver, then a geode, the team finds what they didn't want to see on the ceiling: hundreds of six-legged arachnoids staring down at them with two glowing blue eyes. Definitely pissed off, the arachnoids give chase while the Rookies and their Wrangler shower the horde with weapons fire. Killing a small number and preventing the faux-spiders from turning their insides into delicious outsides, the four make their way back up removing chechens at an even more rapid rate.

Preventing the arachnoids from escaping by the use of a molotov and two tactically placed grenades, the four humans return to the train. Held back by the flames, both grenades cause enough damage to the outer support posts, collapsing the mine's entrance. Only a few arachnoids escape but are quickly destroyed by the station's ponies.

Hoofing over the promised coins, Denra confers with an Operator on the amount Razorback currently possessed: roughly 25,000 Bits worth. It was enough to hire a number of support staff ponies for the Fortress.
Denra's inclinations towards Princess Celestia reach their peak at this time. Reaching outside the main Solar or Lunar factions, he comes across Las Pegasus.. which would prove to be his second worst mistake.

More infighting breaks out on the train ride to Canterlot. None of which, however, was serious. Breaking down the tensions with some well placed slugging matches, and the famous INCREASE PRESSURE Incident occurs. What happens when spam ACTUALLY goes off, is cooked, then eaten? ....some of us try to forget about that.

Post 1/2: Returning To Dawn
November 9, 1835 Military Time/6:35PM Standard
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.350008
1511475299599-1.jpg
Finally reaching Canterlot on the train, the entirety of Razorback Company is told to grab their gear, shine everything they can, and swap to clean clothing or uniforms. All except for Denra and one Operator, the second of which states the two were going to negotiate with Princess Luna, are told to disembark and follow an Honor Guard unit whom had been temporarily reassigned to the Day Guard. Successfully intimidating the rest of Razorback into 'not fucking up', the Operator and ex-diplomat wait for the rest to take their leave.

Received by the Captain whom proclaims Razorback is an hour late and Princess Celestia was waiting for them, all-minus-one of the humans are encircled, then forced to keep pace with the mostly earth pony unit. Picking up an odd (for ponies) running cadence, the entire formation makes it to the Palace's northward upper level, that being the Chambers of the Sun. Delivering Razorback to Princess Celestia's private diplomatic chamber, the Honor Guard immediately leave as they had been kept awake more than six hours past their usual.

Receiving the humans was a familiar, albeit slightly different, sight: Celestia resting on a regal carpet, making notes on parchmarent from a large pink quill with a small inkwell next to it, and a large sunglobe lighting the room directly above her. Welcoming the humans at first before stating that they were only 'two minutes late', the Sun's authority-driven tone requests the status on her favor.

It is here that certain members of Razorback would commit the three acts which saw the Company banished from most of Equestria and shunned by the near-total majority of Solar faction ponies:
#1: delivering the wrong answer several times. Princess Celestia's request was to investigate Old Canterlot, deal with the problems discreetly, and claim the ancient fortress as their base.
#2: continuing to wrongly answer several times in a row. Multiple times, Celestia stated that she did not care in the slightest as to how or why Denra sent Operators to conduct talks with Queen Chrysalis. Those Operators continued to repeat themselves even after Celestia's unsubtle suggestions to cease talking about that visit to the Queen.
#3: continuing to wrongly answer several times in a row with a COMPLETE lack of tact. The half-reasonings, evasive and blatantly disrespectful answers given on how General Sharonel met her end simultaneously infuriated and depressed Celestia.
>Cue image #1.

Breaking the formal review in rising hostility, the appearance of a newly-allied Lishanki bandit carrying the unusual orb from the first Tainted encounter is followed by General Twisted Wing's entrance. Having used one of the Palace's generally unused back passages, Twisted tries to convince Razorback to immediately flee, well aware that she was risking her life in Canterlot.

Negotiations dissolve as Celestia's fury becomes a burning, physical hatred against humans. Arriving late to the meeting, Denra and the Operator whom had chosen to make appeals with Princess Luna find themselves at the doorway facing the utterly hostile and unaccounted for scenario. Despite the late efforts at attempting to correct the three mistakes, all but one human immediately GTFO through the passage when most realize there was no way out except to flee. One Operator is dragged along with but finds himself separated, and begins to make his way back.

While the mujihadeen does his best to calm the Rising Sun, he only succeeds in delaying the inevitable until the separated Operator returns, aiding the jihadi's efforts. Denra and the ersatz diplomatic Operator refuse to leave, though are interrupted by the Lishanki bandit returning to throw the Tainted core at the sunglobe above Celestia. Briefly containing the vast solar energies, it buys enough time the bandit to knock Denra down and out the stairwell. A massive coronal ejection then conflagrates New Canterlot Palace, jets of plasma ripping through the entire building, barely leaving enough material to keep it standing.

Owing to their close proximity to Celestia, the two Operators survive the devastation yet would later begin to feel the destructive effects of Solar Corruption throughout the next six months.

After all, save one, humans return to the train, now carrying several Honor Guards whom would later rescind their contracts honorably, Anonymous returns to issue a brutal statment: "Consider this my only warning. You are not playing a game. You are all, technically, dead in your own worlds. Remember that." Further declaring that he could not restore the supplies that had been used or lost, the green man leaves angrily.

Post #2/2: Returning To Dawn.
Taking On, And Off, The World.
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.350014
This severe upset in the once equal balance of power changed the Solar faction overnight, and would infect Equestria's social, civil, and military standings as a whole.

Once tightly bound together through oaths, mareriages, and peaceful agreemarents, Canterlot's surviving nobility and royalty inspect Razorback's failure. Fractures begin to show upon realizing humans had doomed the Sun from what should have been a simple task. Half the Solars immediately turn against the Company, declaring them outlaws at worst, traitors at best. This state of affairs continues to this night, yet a few of those formerly capricious ponies seem to be changing their minds...

*****

The Lunar faction had few problems as their focus was directed elsewhere, still engaging threats on the fringes of Equestria. Due to having no nobles or royals in attendance, excepting Princess Luna, nothing of what occurred in the Palace would be known.

After countless attempts to interview a surviving Solar pony for any details whatsoever, efforts were thoroughly cancelled by the Lunar Council as a waste of time. Outside a strict non-intervention policy for the military set in place by the Nightmare, Lunars were granted free right of access and trade with Razorback.

The most loyal and mischievous of them, mostly batponies of course, immediately took this as a divine sign, and began (loosely) scheming how best to insert their claws into the strange Otherworld Company's grasp...

*****

Across marely places, those factions which had been promised the right to request Razorback Operatives for interventions and military action seethed. They would turn to 'other' avenues, some legal, some less than legal, and a few options that, even now, haunt some of Razorback's original arrivals...

*****

Hope was, and is not, lost. A number of independents, several Lunars, and a disgruntled Elemental would join Razorback. Quietly aided by the Sea's Bounty and some of the main Ferron clans, openly by the batponies of the Moors, and individuals with a ponial or personal interest in Razorback's survival appear from time to time, discreetly of course.

Marquis du Spiral Disclosure joined Razorback soon after they settled into the Fortress. Drawn by the New Everfree's unusual flora, fauna, and ruins in fairly close proximity, Spiral's vast knowledge and capabilities would never match the support staff Razorback was supposed to receive. While his contributions are great indeed, perhaps the most lasting of his efforts still 'lives' on, in a way.

The armored Night Guard doll was not, in fact, a doll. Contained within was the ka (soul) of a batpony master thief, a Nightblade of the Starborn, mostly known as Princess Luna's technically elite military section. Failing to prevent a certain Operator from retrieving her real body, and still a bit miffed at having to deal with the vagaries of living, Belltower's contributions to Razorback are wide ranging. Her skills as a thief and combat prowess, when combined with deep knowledge of Equestria and nearby regions, not least of which being the Moors, remains significant enough that most ponies give her missions top priority.

Recruited from the Hive as an outcast and wanderer, a Vanguard Changeling eventually settled scores with her past. Recovering her poninality, the title of Lady, along with a gleeful sense of good natured mischief, Roust defends the ponies, and sometimes the humans too, of Razorback with no misgivings. Sharing her unique perspective on equinity and dealing with trauma, Lady Roust's determination mirrors that of her Queen: unshakable unto death, and, perhaps, further beyond.

After a nearly failed mission in Las Pegasus, the enemy of an enemy of an enemy would later be recruited, despite the agonizing wounds inflicted onto her. The Spirit Walker held her grudge as long as possible, but eventually forgave much of Razorback's ignorance. Aided by two Operators, with the urging of their mares, Mercy (first/last name unknown) remains a solid, if often volatile, ambusher and nightly protector against That Which Shouldn't Be Here. Savescumming required though.

Hired from a short list of healers, doctors, and alchemists, Doctor Tipper certainly fits all three. A verifiably old unicorn mare far past her prime, what she lacks in flexibility is sometimes made up for with her extensive knowledge, deep ties to various Solars, and a brutal willingness to commit illegal acts when she believes doing so is of benefit.

Appearing at Razorback with little open acclaim and no warning, a retired Starborn Nightblade turned reservist sought to reduce Razorback's misfortunes. Hodch, as the picky and often irate unicorn calls himself, is nowhere near Spiral's equal.. except for having vast knowledge in illegal and forbidden subjects. Particularly focused on Necromarecy, Eldritch objects, and dubious other topics, Hodch's history is neither shrouded nor classified. Simply put: he doesn't like talking about himself. After all, teaching others is a more efficient usage of time.

Hired from Gryphon Vale, a rather pudgy, flame-resistant unicorn interested only in metal work has become a regular visit for most of Razorback. Krinza, the half-brother of Kroza, an assassin that was dispatched after a visit to the Crystal Empire, became Spiral's erstwhile apprentice while the Marquis was still relatively stable. Puzzling out most of Spiral's theories, Krinza has far surpassed the Marquis' skills in metallurgy and weaponsmithing. Electronics, however, still give him irate fits.

Two unicorns, direct disciples of Hodch and Spiral respectively, were hired on shortly after the second disappeared. Aiutante and Helping Hoof needed only the barest of reasons to set up shop in earnest. While their skills are fair to middle, the extensive knowledge both have will likely put them at their marentors' doorsteps in short order.

*****

There are more ponies of Razorback, yet their stories are neither simple nor easy to describe. Or are they? Only time will tell.
Happy 10th Anniversary, #Operators in Equestria
PonyStrangler
!!n46bP6bTm2
85283e7
?
No.350015
[1d6 = 4] <Ponies that don't normally wear clothes but will wear clothes tomorrow night

[1d6 = 1] <Individual Contract
1: ???
2: ?????
3: Prance
4: Dragonspine Vigilants
5: Crystal Empire
6: a special visit from Gale Ironmane

[1d6 = 3] <Number of Additional Trade Contacts

[1d6 = 2] <Number of Mangoes in front of every door

[1d6 = 3] <Vending Machine Coupons

[1d6 = 3] <29,998 XP Reward

[1d6 = 3] <For that little fucker a certain Squad didn't find. TWICE.

[1d6 = 5] <For that other little fucker a certain Squad SOMEHOW completely missed

[1d6 = 1] <An enemy drawn back from the edge, one that faces the most desperate fight of her life

And last, as we used to say: see you later pony cowboys. The Ride ain't ended, we just take a different track from time to time.
Razorback Fortress: West Rookie Barrack
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350035
350102
>>349982
>The Mareguard's eyes narrow horizontally, snout twitching unreadably.
"Crash course time it is then."
>Motioning off your hand with a slight apologetic grin, the batpony takes four steps forwards, turning about to face you.
>Stretching her left wing through the armor and extending it out, scrawls of thin green runes that appear to be scratch marks take shape around a gigantic multilevel fortress being held 'up' by the claws.
>Not quite a hologram you realize, more of a one-dimarensional blueprint.
>Thirteen above ground floors, twenty-three below ground, and four underneath the previous, though much taller, gave it the impression of some mad engineer's quest for the ultimate self contained fortified city.
>It takes a second for you to realize thousands of tiny specks across the blueprint's face were windows.
"Old Canterlot one thousand five-hundred years ago, give or take a hundred. Quarter million ponies lived there. One-third earth ponies, one-third pegasi, one-third unicorns. Couple thousand batponies too."
>Right wing extending out, a near-copy is held up as well, though on this one three of the topmost levels had been removed, a tall, heavily fortified wall covered in triangular guard towers closely spaced across the top.
>Most of the structure showed signs of damage, three-quarters of the windows appearing as black squares.
"Old Canterlot one thousand ten years ago, give or take five, all the way up to 29,996. Not too badly damaged according to a report from 29,930. Biggest problem claiming it would've been clearing out the Old Everfree for a few miles and keeping the towns around it secure until recolonization. Razorback would've had the rights to function as a neutral faction so long as they upheld Solar and Lunar laws. Also no taxes."

>Releasing the projections to hang in the air, the batmare's wings reach forwards, both wingclaws spreading out what looked like miniature figurines of ponies in armor or robes.. hundreds of them.
"From Stalliongrad: two hundred Veteran Watch Guard, five Tower Guard officers above the rank of Captain, one Master-General, one Primal Psion attache. One hundred support staff."
"From Rushya: fifty Chargers, ten Killchasers, one Wildmare officer and attache. Ten support staff."
"From Canterlot: fifty Day Guard, ten Royal Guard, three Honor Guard officers. Two hundred support staff."
"From the Citadel: fifty Night Guard, five Lunar Guard, three Starborn officers. Five hundred batpony support staff, estimated three hundred others."
"From the Crystal Kingdom: twenty Warden officers and one General. Eighty support staff."
"From the Crystal Conclaves: twenty mixed Knights, one Killknight in commarend. Ten support staff."
"From Prance: thirty Skipwing Air-Dancers, one Captain in commarend. One hundred support staff."
"From Neighsia: twenty Spirit-Mystics of various clans that would rotate out each week, five hundred in all. Estimated fifty support staff."
"From Germaniegh: twenty Heavy Mareine casters and one combat fit heavy cruiser vessel with full complemarent. Estimated three hundred support staff."
"From Princess Argenta: one of her Grandmaster alchemists.. I think. Ten support staff."
"From Saddle Arabia: ten Bronze Guard elites and one Desert Prince in commarend. Thirty support staff."
"Nine Malurian Druids of the Old Ways. Two Shapers."
"Five Ruin Divers from the Arkadian Divides. Three traders."
"Two Cloudblades from the Ferron. Fifty to sixty support staff."
"From Manehattan: estimated forty of their Guard. One hundred support staff."
"From the Dragonspine Mountains: one hundred Dragon Vigilants, ten Wyrms, six hundred Drakes of various species, and fifty of their best miners. Not minor with an o, miner with an e. They were also going to repair and refit the furnaces, forges, training levels, and what not."
"Independents.. couple dozen marecenaries, a thousand or so others."

>Setting out a few larger 'figures', the first was a group of minotaurs.
"Ten Gozkan Wild Rangers, twenty Hegemony Mystic-Walkers, forty Veteran heavy warriors. Ten armorsmiths, ten weaponsmiths, twenty support staff."
>Second were large half-avian, half-felines: gryphons.
"Fifty or so mixed Hunters and others from the Gryphon Overking. Estimated two hundred support staff."
>Third was a floating eyeball.. with tentacles.
"One Watcher-Of-The-Seasons from Eyeraq."
>Fourth was a creature that a mad architect would put together if they had to use only pyramidal shapes, spikes, and only dark colors.
"One Kra`ken Deepkin Hunter elite."
>Lastly was a bizarre dragon: tattered wings with three claws on the radius joint, two smaller reptilian arms below the wings likewise with three claws, and a distinctly blunted face surrounded by numerous protrusions that were likely sensory organs.
"Ancient Pendrusa, sometimes called the Fateslayer. Spirit Hunter from the Dragonspine Mountains, used to sit on their Council. Not a native, he's a first generation Otherworldly. No kin.."

>Having filled the entire room, the batmare takes a step backwards to look over it all.
"I'm missing a few hundred here and there from other factions, not enough space for 'em though."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Bat(Cave)!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350044
350530
>>349985
"Wasn't expecting to survive. Half the Day Guard's officers wants me locked somewhere 'safe' so they can ask questions whenever they want, the Honor Guard wants me to join them, other half the Guard's officers tried bringing up some damned 'witness protection clause', whatever that is, which meant I'd have sent into protective custody on the Citadel, there's a five thousand Bit protective bounty on my head from some noblemare out in Detrot, fifty or sixty more smaller ones from independents. Only a few ponies even know my real name. I'm just 'Razorback's Engineer slash Train Operations Marenager' for Sun's sake."
>Taking the cigar back for a long draw, the brown unicorn exhales to wave a front hoof disgustedly.
"What's that saying, never make a wish without knowing what the consequences will be? My dam and sire would be screaming at me to take every single offer all at once. In some sick, twisted way I'm glad they're not alive to see this mess."
>Head tipping back onto the cool stone, he makes a half-rumbling chuckle.
"Then again, being here looks a lot less stressful. Wish I had a real train station though. But, I did bring back some good news even if it cost me ever being able to go back to Canterlot again. Here-"
>Leaning over to present a metal-trimmed bright white scroll, gold letters in Common plastered in neat single-spacing across it.
"General Valden might not seem impressed with Razorback, least that's what he wants everypony to think, so what would one call an open commission letter?"
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350046
350131
>>349988
>The soft rotund creature emits another squeak, switching to a low purr-rumble.
>On the right screen, Wild's cartoon image directs a puzzled stare at the Skipper before finishing her work.
"Data categorized and indexed, archiving.. complete."

>Adjusting her course midstride by tilting upwards, the next footstop is unusually heavy, but at least none of the lockers pop open.
"Trajectory modified, plotting new course."
>The left screen's diagnostic readout disappears static, the map and geneology tree removed leaving both cameras facing upwards.
"Searching records now-"
>Viewing the formations directly, numbers mark each one you touch on the screen in sequence, ending at a total of 20.
>The pulses are tracked by small red dots jumping from side to side, trailing them upon each movement.
>Watching the incredibly slow fake clouds, where each pulse originated and ended almost made a pattern except for the northern and southern most two that seemed to start the chain.

"Analysis complete: no data found. No similarities found. No references located. No designations identified. Unknown.. everything?"
>Wild's electronic voice was beyond confused, her right armored hand crossing the screen tops and removing a single white spear, handing it to the octuplet of probably-not-used-for-rape-implements awaiting the weapon.
"Distance factor: approximately ten miles. I could long range scan the unknowns but there is a greater-than ninety-percent chance Construct vessels will detect the attempt. Update: internal hull integrity: one-hundred eighteen of three-hundred sixty."
>For all the constant noise Wild was producing there seemed to be little real progress occurring.
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #8
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.350102
350104
>>350035
>Albeit a little disappointment coursed through his body as the batmareguard rejected his scritching, it quickly vanished into his usual wanderlust as she started denoting all the species that were previously meant to be here.
>It would've been a beautfiul sight to see such harmony amongst all these different walks of life, with their little friendly spats and competitions between each species and nationalities.
>If only humanity didn't tear down the house of cards that wanted all of this...
>Although it would also mean Celestia herself wouldn't have given him his contract to come here in the first place if they didn't.
>He wouldn't object to being sent back if it meant humanity could become the place it was planned to be, but that's wishful thinking at this point.
>What happened isn't going to be scrubbed away with a simple restart button.
>There was a lot of work to be done if he wanted to recreate the promised land mankind was given.

>The human could not help but exhale wistfully through his nostrils as the batmare ended her explanation, giving her a soft nod in response.
"If we were meant to be supported by what seems to be almost all factions in Tallus," the man inquired "what was Razorback's purpose in being created?"
Razorback Fortress: West Rookie Barrack
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350104
350106
>>350102
>Reaching up and condensing the artificial figurines into smaller groups, the fiery batmare doesn't look in your direction as she speaks in a flat tone.
"Why would somepony go through the trouble of contacting six hundred some factions including the ones that have logical reasons to distrust her? All that to summon a bunch of Otherworldly beings that aren't politically or culturally involved with said factions? All that for two hundred Otherworldly beings that abide by their own non-native physical and immaterial laws?"
>Taking hold of the first Old Canterlot blueprint and forcefully shrinking it down to the size of a 100 liter barrel, she grunts at the effort.
"Maybe she didn't think humans would try to kill first? Maybe she thought humans would've had better intentions than considering everything a target? Maybe that certain somepony made a mistake that isn't part of the solution and is now trapped in the middle of a bad decision?"
>Setting that one down to click on the floor, then compressing the other with even more strain, she tosses a mildly angered look back.
"Doesn't that seem like more energy, resources, and trust were destroyed in the process rather than everypony and everyone enjoying those potential benefits? So why then do someponies keep dreaming about the maybes instead of trying to wipe out humans?"
>Exhaling loudly as the image reaches the same size as the first, the batmare begins delicately placing figures around the damaged castle.
"Hate doing this. Anypony could tell you a million answers and all of 'em would probably be right, doesn't change the facts some ponies moved on and are still bitter. Some are angry and can't do anything. Some are going to stay pissed off and keep disrupting for political power, social influence, or both."
>Pausing from her work, she weighs the Solar and Lunar ones in her claws, face a solemn mask.
"These represent an investmarent of hope between and for allies, friends, enemies, what have you. I'm not talking about the half million coins and gems from eighty countries, stocks of materials, weapons, armor from all over, enough food to last a whole year."
>Settling those two directly at the front gate, the dragon is picked up to be glared at.
"Far as the few survivors are willing to speak, most of those in the Grand Hall were obliterated that night. All the psions and unicorns died trying to help the real Princess Celestia shield against that thing's plasma storm. Burnt their own souls out to save some. Pendrusa sheltered a dozen or so with his own body, the Eye put a few in stasis near him and died for that, Kra`ken saved two ponies and got turned into a molten sculpture. All those ponies and others gone in a single fucking flash. That's it, done and gone, end of all those stories."
>Holding the dragon up in line with electricity-covered eyes, the batmare's mane and tail begin smoldering.
"Their lives, human. Those were the investmarents Tallus had offered. Every last one of them chose to take their place willingly. Do you understand now?"
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.350106
350108
>>350104
>The human could only watch on solemnly as the batmare before him got increasingly heated at his own question, now slightly regretting having asked it.
>Sure, he had no part in it personally, but it only served to further distance humanity's qualities to the Tallus' own grander virtues.
>As she finished her answer, José mournfully nodded in turn.
"I believe I do," he answered in kind with a rather deflated tone. "Unless there's anything more that your soverign would wish for me to know, feel free to depart. I will not pester you with my naivete any longer than I have already."
Razorback Fortress: West Rookie Barrack
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350108
350118
>>350106
>Ears flattening, the batmare offers a thin, secretive smile.
"I'm a Moorite, Princess Luna's my sovereign. Reason I'm with Lauterna is.. nevermind, best you don't know. Just know I'm not here account of the Solars.. technically. There's a few real hoofsome stallions in Canterlot that don't get heart attacks seeing a batpony or ten wandering around. That's besides the point."
>Turning to put a shoulder against the original projection, the mare physically shoves it towards the locker.
>While it wasn't making much sound, her tightly stretched coat and rippling muscles underneath showed that it weighed considerably more than it had any right to.
"They don't think the way batponies do so I keep my mouth shut 'less La says otherwise-"
>Returning for the other and giving it the same treatmarent, the batmare is silent until leaving it flanking the locker's other side.
>Blowing out in a loud, whistling pitch, the Mareguard's glowing eyes had simmered down to a bare crackle as she spins to face you once more, tossing a claw backwards at the blueprints.
"Here's a free lesson: those are natively psionic created, meaning subject to all Tallus derived physical, immaterial, and other magical or scientific laws. You, being a certain type of Otherworldly being, will have no problem shrinking, expanding, or moving around psionically produced half-materials."
>Lazily sauntering towards the door, the batmares tosses he rright set of claws as a wave.
"There's no one 'simple' answer why humans got invited, even if only one per world would survive the process that was expected to be more than enough."
>Halted from opening, the unusual mare's head and neck swivel around, displaying a rueful grin.
"Second free lesson: Enchained are despised pretty much everywhere. I was never here."
>Lifting a low set hoofle, the mare scurries out, door closing with a muted click.

>Three seconds later, a bright green, ethereal trio of claws reaches inwards, grasping the deadbolt and sliding it over, then locking it into place.
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.350115
350122
>>349986
>Mallia glances down at the Auspex scanner herself, and makes a wry smirk as she herself tries not to laugh.
>It takes a significant amount of willpower to not just burst out laughing at the way Dranaki flails and falls.
"Fff--crk-"
>Mallia puts a hand half-on her lips to stifle her laughter just a bit, and leans a little bit further back.
"Snrk-k-HEH-heh-HAHA--oohh, HH--..."
>She fails. Her sunny smile turning to an uncontrollable grin, as Olympa asks about it. Her off-hand eventually hanging the flak helmet by her belt. Blushing as she almost tears up from sheer amusement.
"Yes. Yes it is... Hoho...Ohhh, no..."
>She rubs at her face with both hands, and takes a DEEP breath.
>Though the statement regarding Olympa's ability to feel ghosts and "Spectrals" elicits a lift of Mallia's brow, interest sparking in her eyes as she glanced from Naskha to Olympa again with a fascinated stare while her hands trail down her cheeks and go back down to her lap.
>Though her glance briefly goes to Chisan, catching his nod. Before clarifying. Exhaling her mirth in the same breath.
"... All my machines have friends in them, including my armour and my tools."
>Remarked the Enginseer with a nod, who of course mentions it with outstanding nonchalance.

(What is a Spectral, anyway?)
(I wonder if by "ghosts" that includes machine spirits...)

(Also, thank you, Adronal, that will definitely become relevant eventually.)
(It's too bad I am broke. I'd definitely give a few coins to see Olympa on a metal-induced sugar rush.)

>Then of course she finds herself grinning all the more as Olympa concedes. Keenly observing the effect of her patting...
"... D-do people really do that? Put you on a windowsill and ask what time it is?"
>Mallia blinks a couple times in a mixture of amusement and slight concern.
>but before she can even remark the Sunspot's attention goes to Nashka, which apparently prompts a shotgun blast of questions.
>The Enginseer can do nothing but smile goofily there, off to the side. In response to Nashka's glance, Mallia simply shrugged.

>Then the Scion started calling for Raindrop--which prompted her to quirk her brow with both eagerness and surprise, looking up down the hall.
>But what makes her blink with even more surprise was the sound of the Storm Trooper's half-laugh.
(Oh!! I can't believe it! Chisan laughed! At this!)
(First time I've heard a Stormtrooper laugh, let alone smile.)
>Her mechadendrite whirrs louder. It wiggles and worms around on her shoulder, clapping it's grabber claws until Mallia takes a moment to look down at the tentacle-like limb. She lifts a hand and patpats it's manipulator claw, slowing it's erratic movements.
>All the while looking to Nashka and sharing a grinning glance with her.

"Do all Rushyans get instant friendship rights with you, Olympa?"
>Mallia asked, patting the Sunspot on the head one more time and runs her hand along Olympa's mane.

>Then her brow furrows a little bit more with seeming concern, glancing a little past Olympa, seemingly at nothing, as she focused a bit more on the datafiles. Taking a bit of guilty delight in sensing them fill up in an orderly manner.
(... Where to scan?)
(Surely I don't need a particular positioning to scan Olympa...)
Cheto
!!/fIxJi3jro
685e4f2
?
No.350118
350128
>>350108
>Cheto would simply give the now playful bat a wave and a polite smile as she left, but it was tainted by the overall gloomy mood he now carried after doing the one thing he said he wouldn't do.
>It didn't blind him to the fact that she was apparently an Enchained, which seemed to be shunned by even more factions.
>It might be due to that strange reaction he suffered from booping her.
>However, the concept of manipulating these 'half-materials' she spoke of in those mareners pretty much went over his head.
>All he knew now is that he might try contacting Queen Chrysalis to inquire about her potential mareguard selection.
>However, he'll probably do some light reading on them now that he knew he had time to build himself up properly without the pressure of showing results to the nobility.

>The man soon breathed out a labored exhale, slowly trying to get back into a sleeping mood.
>Yet it was inconvenienced by his seeming misstep with the batmare.
>Not to mention the slightly depressing circumstances that soon caused a man like him to come into the picture.
>From a mere cog in the world to an exemplar on the spotlight ready to prove this alien world of humanity's innate virtues and worth..
(...I hope those mareguards don't mind a hug...)
Imminent Retrieval: Twin Hill Overlook, Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350122
350249
>>350115
'magos said being like this would be awful. had no clue what hes missing'
>Shutting down her link in a cloud of embarrassed datastreams, a new image shows the heavy Guardsman grinning while making a mock-concerned shrug.
'now imagine doing that to a warform body. specifically: hers. also dont tell her i said that'

>Sniffing towards the Auspex and probably finding nothing of interest, the Sunspot's right hoof lifts, pointing at your head, then the device.
"There's fuzzy stuff going from here to.. here. Oh, you're translating for them like psions do. That nice stallion friend of yours sounds really fun to be around, I hope I can meet him soon!"
'what the melta did she just call me?'

'not like machine-spirits at all. spectrals are remains or remnants of either consciousness or the soul. tend to be highly dangerous, can harm either body or soul. some capable of inflicting severe cold from entropic state. few local weapons optimized for destroying them but most local armor feature defenses against. best option: retreat and return with specialist. often look like this:'
>Mildly perturbed with a hint of lasting confusion, Tox-11's datastream shows the afterimage of a barely corporeal pony that bore some resemblances to various psyker spawn.
'majority of Razorback carry local coins. ask for a one silver Bit'

>Deadpanning a stare from you to Nashka, Olympa lets out a low, five-second groan, complete with dramatic slumping.
"You.. you put me on a windowsill and ask when the Sun is up! It's a pun!"
>Realization dawns on the girl, shutting her eyes and head hanging down to laugh at her knees.
>Well, that stopped the interrogation, but at what cost?

>Keeping some of his composure, Chisan can only shake his head towards you, still trying not to lose it.
*"I spoke far too soon. Replace the word 'ally' with 'what have I done by releasing this filly on them all and why do I feel pride in doing so?'*
>And there he goes: bending over several degrees and shaking silently.

"Of course they do!"
>Letting go of Nasiksta's hands and sitting upright, the Sunspot's even wider smile shows off an otherwise.. perfectly normal mouth, complete with metallic white herbivore teeth and pink tongue.
"It's my favorite place next to Marecedonia! Well it's not next-next to Marecedonia 'cause that's where Mount Olympa is, but if Rushya was next to Marecedona then I'd never leave!"
>Her mane temperature raises several degrees quickly, probably from the excitemarent.

>Branching out from complete physical records and diagrams, albeit with several physical redactions, notes on temperature control from current to 1,000 degrees, a log titled 'Arcane Plasma Theoreticals', known history of Rushya-Canterlot interactions, which were quite few, the information you'd learned so far was neatly organized.
>Tox-11 delivers a suspicious sounding electrochortle, Olympa's image flashing briefly.
'do you really want to know, Mallia?'

>Hearing the clopping of steel hooves followed by boots, the plasma filly leans back for several seconds to examine those behind you, then throws her wings wide apart with a gleeful shout.
"I'm coming with all of you!"
>Sensing Chisan and Raindrop giving each other A Look, the pegasus Knight snorts aloud.
"If Razorback doesn't have a comfortable place in the Fortress for you, I'm sure Naliyna will have one made, she loves foals after a-"
"Wait is that name Rushyan?"
"No, sorry. She's a Crystal pony, about three times my age."
"....CAN WE GO RIGHT NOW PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I'LL BE GOOD I PROMISE!"

*"Just.. shoot me.."*

*****
>Imminent Retrieval: Complete.
>Chisan & Mallia receive: +2XP. 2/3 optional objectives complete, hidden condition fulfilled
>Rookie Squad #1 receives: +4XP (5 primary objectives completed, 1/3 optional objective complete)
>Rookie Squad #1 Leader receives: +2XP and a minor headache
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.350127
350129
>>349970

>"Ah yes, now I remember. That was quite a while ago. Lot has changed since then and now."
>He stroked his chin in thought.

"20 years?"
>Lonts brow furrowed in thought.
"This form you're now in, I suppose it came about involving with...well, you know whom?"
>He did not say Sombra's name out loud, not here at least. His terrible reign left deep scars everywhere and he did not want to risk opening them up by so casually mentioning his name.

>From what Glacier described this woman was clearly not from Razorback, nor any other group he heard of. Surely he would of heard of her around, especially 8 months ago!
"And her body, what happened to it? Or was there so little of it after her death?"

>"Tacit's plan?"
>And weeks to heal, a perfect excuse to take him to Razorbacks' clinic!
>Before he could ask for more details he saw both ponies stare him down.
>He shrunk a tad in his seat.
"I apologize but I am out of the loop, are you two implying Tacit is a Psionic?"
>He full body leaned to look over Tacit again before continuing.
"I could also lend my hand at healing him right now, I have quite the arsenal as Glacier will attest."
Razorback Fortress: West Rookie Barrack
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350128
>>350118
>Dimming once more to near-blackout conditions, the room is lit only by subdued, calm green glows, faint music begins to play from the locker's direction.
>Eyeing the original model, most of the 'figurines' were slowly patrolling around the city-state's exterior, some inside making rounds, stopping now and then to through windows.
>Seated atop the highest point in a rigid pose, the dragon figure stares straight ahead at the room's center.
>Definitely the opposite of creepy considering the Honor Guard batmare's threat-inducing features.

>Trying to figure out the song's lyrics, a mixture of Common, aery pegasi notes, deeper tones, mildly snooty requiems, and what the back instrumarents were, it was too late: the melody puts your consciousness down.
Northern Empire Tundra: The Melodine Conclave
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350129
350343
>>350127
>Showing off a reluctant grin, Shining Armor lifts a front hoof and waves it around in a half-circle.
"You can say that dolt's name aloud in the Conclaves, they won't be offended or retraumatized. The reality is Sombra did a great amount of work for the Empire in his earlier days like revolutionizing later Shells. Decreased the rejection rate by eleven-point-nine percent on his own. Also revised three techniques, Crystal Rune training based on Druidry, and modified two alchemicals that would help Crystal ponies recover from severe wounds with less strain or resources. You know the mixture called Cryptus? One of his more successful forays into Old Dynasty alchemy with some influence from Canterlot researchers."
"Leave it to unicorns, always trying to find the 'good' out of every shitty situation."
>Raising an eyebrow at Glacier's dismissive tone, the Crystal-Revenant snorts lightly.
"Keeping an open mind is rule two of being alive Glacy. Staying alive is rule one which doesn't apply to you or me. Rule th-"
"Three is not putting down a weapon or armor just because it has an innocent's blood on it. Use, reuse, repair, repurpose, repeat."
"Close enough to our version of it, yes."

>Turning from the glasses in front of her and gazing towards the currently inactive Champion in front of Tacit's cot, Glacier's lips curl back in a pained expression.
"Third to last flesh-monster bunch we ran into were older versions. Not as fast as the newer ones. Stronger, more armor, regenerated slower. Hard to kill, easy to outpace, but not when there's five against three. Champ tried taking three on a sightseeing tour through a few of the older industrial, didn't work out. One of them came back to keep the Ward safe so I told the human mare to ditch, I had the last one pinned and was smashing it to pieces. Ward goes after her with that thing in tow. She takes the unicunt's head off, three quick manabombs and nine explosions from her own weapons. Didn't know those ones had poisoned or toxic barbs. I could hear her taking three hits, thirty-one more explosions. Turns the other monster into ash, runs back and starts helping m-"
>Cutting herself off and physically trembling, Shattered Glacier's eyes tear over, her voice a monotone flat.
"Couple more smashes and the monster was down, watched it for a bit to see if it'd start regenerating. Didn't. She stumbles six paces behind behind me, tears her helmet off, throws it straight down, falls on her knees, vomits. Hard. Physical injuries weren't life-threatening that I could tell. Can't use Runes, no alchemicals on me. Falls over screaming at her helmet between convulsions. Stops. Says three sentences I didn't understand. Belregard comes stomping back then and.. she said he's got no choice. Just-"
>Making a 'poof' sound and mimicking an explosion with her hooves, the Shell places them down to stare down at the tables' edge.
"Releases her right there. Huge burst of pink, green, blue, yellow, red, white. No more screams. One-fiftieth a second. Gone. Nothing left. ..I'm shutting down for a while."

>Turning rigid, Glacier's eyes, then the rest of her body, fades into subdued tones, the ex-Prince visibly downcast.
"The curse of being able to remember everything is not being able to forget every last detail. And sometimes, not able to forgive."
>Giving a small 'yes' nod, Shining glances as well, speaking as the Melodine Matron sits back, both front hooves lifting to rub the sides of her head and sighing aloud.
"Since he was born. Not quite a Primal Psion but close enough I think he could match one having a bad night. Physically speaking I'd bet on him over any Master-General, day, night, or otherwise."
>Eyebrows furrowing together, the Crystal-Revenant remains still for several seconds, the Matron's head lifting to cast an exhausted gaze towards the two of you.
"Can't take a risk like that now, he's damned close to both elemental and magical overdosing at this point. If I could find even one blasted Support Striker that'd be willing to come here.."
>Vocally frustrated, the unicorn turns his head and makes a rueful grimace.
"Like that would ever happen now considering we damned near froze the Watch Guard out. Unless you know some place better he's going to be stuck here."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.350131
350209
>>350046
"Yeah, no clue."
>I say as I catch the cartoon version's gaze.

>Watching her trace the hidden... things, I couldn't help but feel very, very out of my element.
>Shaking my head, I could only shove the feeling to the back of my mind for the moment.
>Better to have a breakdown once we're safe.

"I don't have a magical answer for whatever the hell it is, unfortunately. Only thing that I can compare it to is a ship setting some sort of smokescreen..."
>Staring off to the side, I frown.
"That's probably what its doing. Though rather poorly."
>Humming, I nod idly.
"Definitely not a good idea, better to figure out what it is when we're able to safely."
>Listening to the noise for a moment, I frowned at the cartoon Wild.
"Having problems repairing yourself?"
Razorback Fortress: The Armory, Aiutante
GM_Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.350195
350197 350213
>>349887
>>349917
>Aiutante's ears perk up and swivel behind her as Anon's white room door opens up behind her, side-stepping to give him a berth and an enthusiastic greeting.
"What up, Mr. Anon? None taken, soooooo chill in here! I'm just like giving Mr. Ivan here an overview on all the bells and whistles we like totally crammed into his new exoskeleton! He's looking to pair it with a heavier firearm, without you know... getting Era Lock scrambled and stuff."
>The pink craftmare idly nods as Anon lists off of weapons deemed safe for you to utilize before she tracks the flight of the wooden pistol case, catching what the masked human mentions and studies the outside of the case intrigued whilst humming to herself.
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
7f49ffc
?
No.350197
350213
>>349917
>>350195
>Ivan would look up at the mysterious 'Anon', watching as he came in with booze.
>Briefly glancing his choice in alcohol over, he'd properly focus on Anon.
"I know better than to touch mysterious things without studying them. Or asking if it won't turn me into a can of STALKER soup."
>Again.
"I figured the ones I'd be able to recognize are safe, already idly checked out the BAR. Thinking of a PKP or PKM, really."
>He watched as Anon puzzled over some missing guns.
"Didn't see them if they were hear earlier."
>Ivan's eyebrows rose as he checked the offered revolver out, gently lifting it from the case to look it over.
"Revolvers are impractical for the Zone... But here I doubt it."
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350209
350349
>>350131
"Accessing protected nodes for available information on atmospheric-capable vessels.. complete. Limited records of large scale atmospheric and exoatmospheric flight systems located. Recalculating.. possibilities of surface vessel converted to atmospheric aircraft low due to limited planetside technological usage in databanks. Limited atmospheric designs located, cross-referencing now-"
>Less irritated and more intrigued now, the view tilts downwards as Wild takes a ponderously heavy step forwards jolting the central cabin.
"Update: left series motivator units restored to sixty-percent status. Construct vessels now approximately eight minutes from locating my entry marks into the ocean, attempting to increase rate of travel-"
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <GM.Submerged Nuclear Walk
"Logic stores suggest a nominal five-point-two percent probability of a natively produced atmospheric craft. There is a thirty-eight-point-three percent probability of an externally produced exoatmospheric craft. More data required for further analysis."

>Now tracing the faded set of patterns once again, this time using green dots for start location, red lines for connections, and blue for the end, there was enough symmetry to pick out.. something.
"Understood, limiting scans to close range."
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Arcanum Sensors Array

>Displaying her internal schematic on the right screen's lower left corner, the extent of damage to her legs had improved from severe red to faint greens all around, the previous estimate of nine hours for complete repair seemed about right.
"Extensive combat and post-combat damages have reduced my repair systems to approximately thirty-eight percent efficiency. Submerged repair operations are complex, reducing efficiency to twenty-point-nine percent. Short version: yes. Long version: I want to scream."
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #8
Dr_Juan_Carlos
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.350211
350250
IVsetup.jpg
>>279817
>Carlos gives Flicker a hearty chuckle at her shock over his original length of stay in Razorback.
"Ahaha, si si! I was part of the 'First Wave' as it is known. Back then... I was little more than a medico with a travel bag. Once Razorback was established and left in the capable hooves of Abuela Tipper, I began traveling back and forth from Canterlot to study medicine of this world. I never officially separated, like the others so much. My travels brought me many oportunidades to... expand my own practice. Hehe!"
>He motions to the main entrance to where the Taco Loco was parked.
>Turning to the Ward, Carlos demeanor sombers thinking back on the now re-civilized earth stallion.
"We first encountered Senor Caliya early on, trying to recover power crystals. He was prowling in a dilapidated waypoint station, nearly slaughtered the exploratory team with Senor Clemency. A week later another team returned, managed to pacify Senor Caliya with a trade of heat stones and a knife. I believe the one he originally had was... had somehow devolved him, omnivorous, as if a curse. Eldritch, perhaps? He ended up following the train through the Everfree and reached Razorback. Far as I know jefe Jeff is in posesión of said weapon. He has been acting more batpony than human, as of late."
>'I should attempt to get him for a checkup on his condition, while I am hear as well. Idiota is probably pushing his heart to the point of bursting.'
>Mulling over one member after another, Carlos' mirrors Flicker's own frustration.
>The first he couldn't believe. The second was intriguing. And the third was beyond troubling.
"Senior Novus... giving up his ka. No no no. Some contingency must have come up. Aye! If his body is nothing more of a shell now, better not to dwell on it. We can investigate it another time when lives are not at stake."
>He looks over where the meatball that was apparently Kraut was, chuckling to himself and scratching his chin.
"Senor Kraut is still kicking in there? Asombroso, I always knew he was tougher than he looked. If a remedy is in the works, we can pass him off for now."
>The back to Caliya, the saddest of state. Even compared to Novus, who for all intent and purpose was presumed dead.
"I see... I am aware of Senor Denra and Hodch. Their conexiones and opinions could help us determining options."
>He listens intently over the three choices Flicker presented: it was either druids, necromancers, or ancient elemental powers.
>Shaking his head, Carlos rubs his temples in neutral thought.
"Si, you ARE correct. These options are not ideal. Perhaps... it would be best if we inform Seniorita Alys of Caliya's current state. Perhaps if anypony, she might have the best insight on how to proceed with treatment; if any at all."
>Before he can continue the conversation, still mulling over their options, he hears the faint sound of Flicker drift off to sleep right where she stood. The sudden spell took him aback for only a moment before he remember her condition and softly chuckled to himself. He grabs a nearby bed cushion and gently lifts the Ward's head to shimmy the pillow underneath it for comport.
"Dormir apretada, Seniorita Flicker."
>With his current assistant incapacitated, and his current three patients either dead or stabilized for the time being, Doctor Carlos checks over Snakebite. He might get one patient on their way to recovery. The Doctor takes the diamondine tools left for him, and gives them a good cleaning.
>Grabbing an IV stand and utility cart he collects an arterial line kit, a dextrose saline IV bottle, a IV pack of vancomycin, clean sampling tools, and clean PPE, Carlos attaches the bottle and antibiotic pack on respective hangers and wheels everything over to Snakebite.
>He picks Snakebite's right arm, focusing on the wrist. He'll have to place an radial arterial line to get nutrients and antibiotics to Snakebite.

>Sterilizing the sight, Carlos uses a diamondine scalpel to make a small shallow incision large enough for him to slip the initial needle through.
>The incision being made through the now-toughened skin, Carlos preps the A-line kit and inserts the needle through until the wire line begins filling up with bright arterial blood.
>He then slips the guide wire through the needle and retracts it, and guides the catheter down the wire to set it in the artery. Securing it with a clear dressing, Carlos then hooks up the main line to the catheter and connects the other end to the dextrose saline bottle. After setting the drip rate, he then runs a secondary line for the antibiotic pack and connects it to an auxiliary port.
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <M.Physician: Surgery
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Lead Mare's Surgical Tool Set
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16] <Clinic Supplies
[1d6+20 = (2+20) = 22] <Surgical Suite
Razorback Fortress: The Armory
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350213
350526 350664
>>350195
>>350197
"Attaponies!"
>Tossing a two fingered salute at Aiutante, the gestalt pops the case open with a defeated chuckle.
"Had to dredge that thing out of a tangled mess of acid pools, part of a destroyed building, and the creepiest shitshow of radiation so far. Honestly didn't even want to bring it here, half the time something's in that state it goes straight to the scrap pile. I'll take a look at it before I leave, might give me some new ideas."
>Eyebrows raising under his mask, Anonymous turns to motion at another northern table covered in recently washed uniforms.
"Knew I was missing one. There's a Gepard under those and somewhere around here is a Milkor Em-Thirty-Two. As for selections-"
>Slowly turning around to inspect the entire Armory, the gestalt waves a hand annoyedly at the racks of weapons that had recently been checked and maintained by the recently arrived gunsmith.
"Those are it, unless the Arr-Pee-Kay or Em-Gee-Thirty-Six in squad locker one fit your interests. You might-"
>Physically wincing in great, unutterable pain.
"I stress MIGHT, be able to get that damned vending machine to put something together. Don't expect too much from that yet though, it's a prototype I hacked together due to someone blowing two discs on it, and convinced a rather nasty creature to make it all work with another one.. sort of. It has problems trying to understand why certain metals can combine to make a better metal, like tin and copper, and why other metals are horrible, such as magnesium and promethine. Now, here's something I made about twenty months ago-"

>Gingerly pulling out the second-heaviest revolver next to Hollow's personal monster, Anon holds it up, twisting around several times to show off, barrel pointed at the ceiling of course.
"What do you get when tossing together four busted revolvers, an equally screwed semi-auto forty-five, a chunk of original Early Dynasty Era diamondine, one damaged Sunstone, part of an Imperial Crystal Marker, three destroyed holosights, five ruined laser systems, and three pounds of rejected taffilon?"
>Overbuilt to the point of multiple redundancies with a larger than why-would-you-even-need-that cylinder, the frame looked well balanced though the constant shifting of red, purple, and blue seemed like normal diamondine except being far less sporadic.
>The grip's flared offsets were definitely meant for maximum comfort and recoil distribution, while the unusual yellow sphere made for a bizarre holosight.
>Affixed to a solid rail on the underbarrel was a cold blue laser targeting system, the air around it visibly distorted.
"A Raging Pony chambered in Four-Fifty Backblast. And before you ask: yes, hand loading this thing is ten problems in one."
>Popping a sideways grin to Aiutante, the Green Man resonates a single apologetic note.
"I didn't name it."
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.350249
350253
>>350122
(Well I am very glad I can slightly prove that Magos wrong with my radical enginseer ways!)
>Wrying her lip slightly from the Admiral shutting down the link for now, Mallia can't help but quirk her brow at the word 'warform body'
(I won't~, but speaking of warform bodies,)
(If that is indeed your wish! I can tap into my knowledge of Robotics and what I know of the Legio Cybernetica to give you all one.)
>Mallia just about manages to finish that thought when Olympa starts sniffing, catching her attention and glance again.
>The woman's smile brightens again, tilting her head ever so slightly as she watched the Sunspot's hoof trace a line between her head and the Auspex scanner.

>Olympa's ability to visibly trace such communication make Mallia blink twice in a mildly perplexed and fascinated expression. Then she can't help but smirk cheekily at what Olympa says after. Before it evens out, looking at them with sudden interest.
"... Wait, sounds fun? You can hear his voice?"
>Following her question, Mallia's mechadendrite moving to be just under her chin and rubbing along it...

(I mean... One could call you a "stallion".)
>The Enginseer shifts her eyes suspiciously...
(Though this DOES give me a somewhat tech-heretical idea.)

>Mallia then stares back as she is met by the deadpan gaze of Olympa from her not getting her pun.
>And then...
"Oh."
>And then she wheezed as Nashka's laughter quickly infects her.
>She breathes in, rubbing the side of her face as it begins to ache from smiling so hard, sideglancing over at the Stormtrooper while sighing... Processing through Tox-11's explanation of Spectrals at the same time.

(Right... That looks sufficiently terrifying to get me to not engage, for sure...)

>She, still beaming in spite of the daunting imagery of the Spectral in her mind, gives Chisan a thumbs up and softly speaks back through the Vox:
*"Glad I could help!~"*
*"Also, you got a silver bit? It's basically candy to Olympa. Give her one!"*

>Mallia's hand drops again to her lap, refocusing back to Olympa. Squinting at the sight of teeth and a tongue...
>Then starts warily lifting her hand from Olympa's mane, feeling the temperature rise.
>Nonetheless, Mallia nods with a definite interest to what Olympa was saying. But her attention span was splitting into two as she simultaneously processes what Tox-11 was exloading and what was physically happening infront of her.

>Her curiosity, however, is peaked by Adronal's question.
>She can't stare at him in a literal sense, but her binaric presence lingers on that question for a half of a second.
(What? I'm a big adult! Can't be that bad.)

>With that thought sent, she flinches back to reality as the plasma bundle of energy shouts!
>And immediately Mallia gasps with delight that Olympa would be coming with!
>The Enginseer then promptly jumps up from crouching to a standing position with a small hop, clapping her hands quietly excitedly.

>Then just grins toothily towards Raindrop and Chisan, wiggling ever so slightly up and down like a child while standing next to Olympa, childishly smiling with an ecstatic shine in her eyes.
"Well! before we beeline back to base with our new friend, Uh,"
>Mallia calms down suddenly, hands going on her flanks as she glances more towards Raindrop.
"Has the rain let up at all, Raindrop?"
>Then she looks down to Olympa right after as she explains, gesturing towards Chisan once.
"It's all muddy and slippery out there. My good friend Chisan over there, cracked his ribs coming here, it was really bad..."
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic, Operating Room #1
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350250
350261
>>350211
>Encountering stiffer than usual resistance, the diamondine scalpel neatly bounces off.

>Somewhere in the world, the lone Elder Dragon surgeon experiences a second-hand wince.

>Checking the edge several times, Carlos finds it still perfectly sharp, and upon trying again several more times the same result occurs.
>Using another of the set's heavier blades to tap through Snakebite's skin allows enough momentum for the process to continue rather smoothly.
>Lacking the usual internal resistance of human physiology, Carlos remains uninterrupted until the feeds had been secured, Nova snorting herself awake and speaking as if she'd been turned back on.
"Three locations where a number of Unspoken congregate from time to time. Much was known of them during the-"
>Finding herself lying sideways, the Ward looks up, down, left, then dies inside at the amount of time that'd passed.
>Sitting up with a subdued grunt, the Ward's left forehoof raises to rub her face, right one picking up the cushion and staring at it.
"Late Dynasty Era. ..if I could stop this from happening my life would be considerably easier. Nevertheless I will consider which option to be the least oppressive."
>Rolling forwards to stand up, Nova Flicker replaces the cushion, sliding back to the operating table, horn sparking red and floating herself up to inspect the equipment plugged into Snakebite.
"Intravenous tubes connected to fluid reservoirs? I vaguely recall someponies in the Empire using similar to administer certain strong alchemicals that must be introduced either slowly or at precise rates."
>Peering at the blood sample, then to the unfamiliar equipment, she gives a short sigh.
"I apologize if my words were undue. My dam did not and has not told me much of Razorback's original members or numbers. She has, somewhat correctly, distanced herself from my history. Truthfully speaking a quarter of the humans here believe that I have the same issues Tipsy does, which makes my duties significantly more difficult than they ought be
>Taking on a sincerely curious tone, the carnelian mare's eyes glisten briefly.
"As for Caliya, he did allow me to study his condition for perhaps ten minutes.. until I fell into the table. There are six to ten notable characteristics of Eldritch taint, none of which are marentally nor physically detrimarental, nor do I think will pose a threat to Allys' foals. His ability to consume flesh is not deleterious but it is necessary as his biology has been modified beyond what I believe engineers call 'original specifications' or some such. As for Jeff I have had little contact with him, my dam seems to take care of Razorback's originals rather avidly."
>Exhaling rather heavily, Nova's gaze turns to the connecting wall with a short glower.
"If you do not require my aid I will inform Allys.. after the OTHER patient has been dealt with. I strongly suggest leaving that one alone, she is more trouble to deal with a drunk, stoned, and blindfolded exhibitionist pegasus trying to pass her final flight exam."
[1d6 = 2] <Lejura's wants
Twin Hill Overlook: Depository
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350253
350548
>>350249
>The chunky Guardsman returns, his shrugging image placed in the restricted room under the Library, the Tracker twins appearing behind him with sour expressions.
'not in a hurry enginseer. witch needs her platform before me'
'Speak for yourself Andronal. We have waited half a decade now.'
'ever heard of that thing called patience? Flash has been running day night and all the other times simply trying to build up a stable tech base. you know damned we-'
>Cutting off Tox-11's datastream in a flurry of arguments, the three spend a half-second before he mercilessly shuts them down.
'if you two cant appreciate equine puns then stuff it down a krootoxs mouth. i for one appreciate four legged designs, enhanced stability and carrying capacity are high priorities. witch agrees, the forge-room will be unlocked for your use once we return Mallia'

>Leaning forwards a tad to sniff at the metallic tendril, Olympa sticks her tongue out briefly, then sits back to tilt her head.
"Sort of, it's faint. I don't know the language but I can hear his voice.. kinda. How old is he?"
'enginseer. please.'
'Do not be hypocritical Andronal. It is not heretical if the design is capable. Enginseer Castella, Olympa is hereby recognized as Sanctioned Eternis by order of Ordo Chronos Inquisitor Aguina. Please update your IFF systems to account for the redesignation.'

>Recovering from her defeat at the pun, Nasiksta spares a relieved expression at you while Chisan ceases dying long enough to shakily ask the girl for one.
>Momentarily confused, she reaches into a side pocket and presents one to him, which is offered to the Sunspot as he points.
"It is for Olympa, not myself."
"What? What's for me?"
>Glancing from you to Chisan then to Nashka several times in a row, Olympa's eyes widen, leaning forwards to nom it, politely, then leans back to chew on the coin with a happily squished face.
"Fank yu!"
>Tox-11's datasigh registers alongside an image of the heavy Guardsman saluting while being launched out of a Basilisk's barrel.
'remember: you asked for this.'
>The incredible series of decrypted files and thoroughly unredacted images read in excruciating detail on the biological and reproductive potential of a Sunspot.. which was a >60% possibility.
>Likewise an extensive databook on equine sexual characteristics and compatibilities with humans were far more than mere theories or suggestions: Flash had pictcorded numerous instances, the majority being a single human with a mare.. sometimes two mares, but at least there was enough redacted to pass as softcore.
>The Inquisitor's details on acceptable similarities, comfortable positions, respective moods, requirements of something called 'pillow talk', and even spent the time to write a physical guide book on how to seduce ponies would probably have been deemed EXTRA HERESY had she not sanctioned the work with direct approval from Witch-Two, Tox-11, Tracker, and the Xenotechnologist Machine-Spirit.

>Left eyebrow raised at the plasma filly swallowing the coin's remains, the Knight's head swivels to you, giving a rather puzzled smile.
"Mostly, yes. The two of you-"
>Wiggling an ear at Nashka.
"Spent something like half an hour in vault one. It's probably going to be two or th-"
"Broken ribs? I can probably heal those!"
>Squeaking out abruptly and leaping onto her hooves, Olympa unfolds her right wing, the primaries pulsing once and emitting a soothing orange-yellow glow.
>Equally confused as the Knight, the Scion raises both hands palm upwards.
"Your concern is appreciated yet further effort is not required, the majority of fractures ha-"
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Warm Rays
>Olympa: 20/50 Bioplasma, 10 Stock remaining

>Blinking a white-gold afterimage of the Sunspot out of your eyes, she stands on tiphooves peering at the dumbfounded Storm Trooper.
"Feel better now?"
"..yes, considerably so. My thanks to y-"
>And was the single worst liar here.
>Wings flapping once, Olympa smiles wide, then dashes towards the hall in a blur of orange, red, and yellow.
"Come on then, I can make a sun screen and dry the mud out too!"

>Naskha, Chisan, Sergei, and the three Vostroyan predecessors immediately share That Look.
"Is okay to let her?"
"I.. do not know. Commissar?"
"Nyet, not my rank now and never again."
"Understood sir, however you are the only commanding officer here. You also outrank myself and Castella by months in direct chain of command."
"No make deci.. desis.. choice if no want, Serg."
"I don't think we have a choice but most people should be fine with her, unless they're bad with children, or foals."
"Or be pissed off on account of us being three hours late? We need to make sure she doesn't run into Dancing or Torven."
"...why me?"
"If you would prefer not to decide sir, then I will make a formal apology to the chain of command."

>Flipping her ears in your direction, Raindrop chortles under her breath before offering a heavy wing out for you to take.
"I'm curious to see what this ally of my ancestors can do. Hop on and let's get out of here."
Dr_Juan_Carlos
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.350261
350301
>>350250
>Juan Carlos swore under his breath at the toughness of Snakebite's new resilient hide, but switching to a meatier scalpel seemed to do the trick.
"Aye, bastardo... even within well under an hour of infusion. Fascinante!"
>Once the skin was opened, setting the A-line was smooth work as the scaling only appeared to go a deep as the epidermais.
>'-but the dermal layer feels to have more density. Could the dermal layer have been reinforced in order to support the scales? Internal tissue, muscle, and circulatory seem unaffected. Muscles may build up more to accommodate the present of the scaling.'
>As he confirms the drip rates Carlos goes to collect sampling tools, he hears Ms. Nova Flicker arises from her episode and right back to where she left off.
>Type one narcolepsy with cataplexy, perhaps? EDS symptoms must have been taking a back seat while treating Snakebite, but with the emotional stress of Caliya's condition and weighing his options must have triggered an attack.
"No problema, Seniorita Flicker. Humanity has had little progress with treating narcolepsy as well. Best we have is lifestyle adjustments and wakeful stimulants. Some drugs, but I wouldn't recommend over long periodas."
>The subject changing, Nova observes the IV's he has set for Snakebite for the time being.
"Si, correcta Seniorita Flicker. I set a catheter into the radial artery, the large bottle is water with a dextrose and saline solution. Hydration, calories, and electrolytes. All necesario to facilitate healing. The smaller bag is a strong antibiotic called vancomycin. The damage to Senor Snakebite's body has likely ravaged his immune system, leaving him vulnerable to infection."
>Grabbing a PIVO device with an attached draw needle, Carlos halts the main line and unscrews the connector from the catheter. Connecting the PIVO, it rapidly fills up with bright blood and he begins filling up the row of multicolor-capped blood collection vials.
"I will run a set of blood tests to get a baseline of his fluid levels. He'll most likely need plasma infusions and more complex nutrient intake to facilitate proper coagulation and metabolism."
>He pauses, as if throwing his entire monologue out.
"Or... that egg is going to save us most of the trouble. The tests will show how much care he's going to require."
>After collecting eight different vials from Snakebite, properly inverting the ones that required mixing, Carlos disconnects the PIVO. He grabs a saline flush syringe to clear the catheter's line before reattaching the main IV line and reopening it back to where he had it just earlier.
>Listening to the Ward's worries, Carlos tuts as he labels the blood samples.
"That is desgraciada, Miss Flicker. You know show true care and a bedside manner most doctors would envy. Ignore the... neigh-sayers. Hehe. Equinas puns..."
>He listens as Nova continues, nodding as he walks over to the Taco Loco and begins setting up his centrifuge.
"Aye. Seniorita Alys is carrying? I fear this situación will be difficult for her. As for us humans, we are very private about our well being. Even more so for the majority brought here. Ex soldiers, especially operador especials won't see a doctor until they're bleeding to death, half-blown up, or their mind's are so loco they can't think straight. One professionale medica to another: a majority of the humans in Razorback require extensive mental health assessments, including Jeff."
>Setting the vials properly in the centrifuge, Carlos sets an initial timer for thirty minutes for specific vials.
>Nova didn't seem particularly finished yet, as she exclaims one more patient that... potentially need tending to.
>Her apprehension to administer treatment worried him...
"Interesante... is she critical? What is her initial prognosis?"
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic, Operating Room #1
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350301
350663
>>350261
>Tapping the first vial to ensure properly settled contents, Carlos denotes a visual trace of Arcane Poison separation, an extremely thin film rising to the surface and floating atop.
>Double checking to ensure that hadn't been the Clinic's lighting system, the layer dissipates through the quartz-glass mixture.
"I have tried tea, elixirs, standard meditation, singing, restrictive emotional control.. ..meditative dancing. Once. Little works. All Wards suffer from unique pseudo-physical disharmonies. The price, perhaps, for having equally unusual capabilities from unicorn and Crystal pony progenitors."
>Ears perking at the inline blood draw system, a front hoof lifts to poke her chin.
"At these I partially understand why most humans seem to prefer a pony treating them rather than their own medics and the like, with several exclusions. Normally we would infuse a selective elixir into water; vegetarian, vegetarian, vegan, frugivore, omnivore, obligate carnivore, carnivore, and so on. Of course that process takes longer, though the benefits of this are immediate, perhaps more precise as well."
>The remaining vials all feature the same thin film of subdued material-energies, rapidly aerating through with little other than a miniature weight difference.
"Excluding the heat liquefaction of subdermal fat and otherwise unimportant fat tissues, it is likely that such a near-total infusion of a.. dragon's egg would be considered incredibly healthy for a human. It would still be prudent to examine a few samples for Arcane Poisoning, though I suspect such would be quite minor from an unfertilized egg. Did the Starborn medical team inspect for bacterium, fungii, parasites, and the like?"
>Lowering herself to the floor and following the human Doctor outside, closing both doors behind her, Nova clambers up the back stairs with a muted half-snicker.
"I do enjoy puns, particularly from batponies, not that I laugh much aloud. And yes, Allys is to have two foals. I performed the first check myself, both are healthy and show normal biological statistics. As for their potential characteristics I did not choose to investigate further. She is a hardy mare in all three meanings."
>Standing on tiphooves to eye over the cooking equipment, then turning to do the same for the medical side, the carnelian hybrid's head turns, her right eyebrow raising speculatively.
"I could use that to my advantage then. Two months ago I asked Bren to construct a U-shaped one floor hospital, larger than the normal Empire clinics, specifically for my use, and, hopefully, the more inclined human medical staff. It did take her most of that time to collect enough materials, but she said it will be placed later tonight along with most of the equipmarent. Perhaps if I make it much more welcoming and open.."
>Rubbing her snout in calm motions, the soft five-pointed eyes flick up to meet Carlos' gaze with half-sincere dislike.
"Initial estimated survival ratio of fifty to three, so, highly. Infield treatmarent was critically poor due to the situation: Saddle Arabian mare, mid-thirties, jammed into a rock slide deep within a mine shaft approximately half a mile underground, tunnel length of one and a half to two miles. After extraction Torven and, Novus I believe, attempted to treat her. Conditions were initially severe: two pinned and shattered legs compounded by severe blood loss lasting approximately two to two and a half hours in total. One eye nearly destroyed, partially gouged by a large claw approximately two hooves in length, three-quarter a hoof in thickness, sharp enough to chisel steel. Mane, neck, and saddle sustained severe close range detonation of a small manabomb, third degree burns, stone shrapnel. Various other small injuries in the minor nuisance. "
>Glancing towards the Taco Loco's rear entrance, she sighs heavily.
"Both legs were reset and treated, I check on her every ten minutes while awake. However my first check after dusk I noted both lacked sustained or steady vascular rhythms. Her heart is unaffected and strong, the rest of her vascular system is fully intact save for a pair of endings near her eye which were seared and treated. It is likely both legs may require amputation, one to the shoulder, one to the rear knee, should her condition remain. Then there is the other problem: she is a Very Important Pony, one which Princess Luna herself demarended maximum care of.. which I accepted."
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.350343
350345
Shattered Glacier.png
>>350129

>Lont couldn't hide the surprised expression on his face, this was probably the first time he has heard of this about Sombra. Ever. Which made sense in retrospect but that didn't change the fact he was listening to some pony actually praise something Sombra did, even if it was before he turned blood chilling evil.
"That is quite the impressive resumé for Sombra, which makes what he did all the more damning."

>As the Operator listened to Glacier recall what happened to the mystery woman he grew more concerned, not at her untimely death but at Shattered pained recollection.
>He clearly made a mistake and ruined her night of relaxation. His shoulders slumped as the Shell ended her story.
"I...see, I am sorry for your loss and for making you remember. I should not of pressed any further."

>"It appears more often than not that ponies on Tallus have an eidetic memory, perhaps all denizens of Tallus of every species have this genetic ability."
>He thought to himself.

>What? Tacit? He was THAT powerful? Surely if he was he would of used it before, surely he would of used his abilities when he first encountered Razorback. As far as he recalled it wasn't a diplomatically pleasant one.
>And speaking on the nature of Tacit...
"May sound clique coming from me, however I was going to suggest he be taken to Razorback. We have a dedicated clinic staffed by many professionals that can take care of him 24/7, an open cot with his name on it and most importantly, security."
>Lont said with a shrug.
"Surely he'd be better off there than here-"
>He raised a cautionary hand.
"-Not that I am suggesting anything negative about this place."
Northern Empire Tundra: The Melodine Conclave
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350345
350450
>>350343
>Registering your look, Shining Armor puts on a selectively grim frown, one with the well-worn practice of a military pony.
"There's a line from some partially translated Sumarean battle song that says: 'a mare must splint the wing of another mare before their wing is splinted'. There's always give and take. What is given freely-"
>Pointing a hoof towards Belregard with a minute grimace, then at Glacier.
"Their services for example, do not have to be 'taken' in the literal sense. Taken into accord or accounted for is not the same as accepted. King Sombra's eventual break down was not entirely his fault, meaning that what he did give is rarely compared to what he took. To make matters worse some of the Middle Dynasty's adherents refused to work with him after he offered to share something like a thousand journals, logs, records, recipes, and more. His desperation to become immortal, and share that conclusion with all ponies, despite that being a horrible idea, was his own fault. There's a hundred faces on each side of his coin but only one is remembered or accepted. Even my voice didn't sway the majority into accepting what he did give."
>Beginning to reach out, then snapping his barely material leg back just as quickly with an irritated wince, the ex-Prince turns an appreciative glance from the Shell to you.
"Don't worry, every Shell and InterPony in the area will be helping her. To be blunt: it's better you did than didn't. Ponies, including myself from time to time, have an awful instinctual habit of trying not to process events. Then said events come back with much greater damage and last longer. Our biology and culture didn't evolve fast enough to keep up with shock. "

>Taking a single step back from the table, the Crystal-Revenant's gaze turns to the Matron clambering off the cot.
>The heavier set, older mare had the same irritatingly bright green seafoam green and blue coat, along with the painfully neon pink and lemon mane, a second long afterimage trailing her slow walking pace directly towards you.
>Worse yet were the vibrant purple eyes leaving faint impressions in the air.
>Not Enchained, but probably something just as weird.
"There's a few hundred negatives keeping him here, the majority starting and ending with a lack of dedicated healers. One Matron isn't enough to tend him with constant care. Tent space is limited and while she will vouch for them being sanitary there's no proper care here. Even she says as much."
>About facing to you, bodily expressing thinly veiled frustration, Shining's head nods towards the travel tents, cots, and black crates scattered everywhere.
"Those are all winter and travel supplies meant to last, not comfortable, and certainly not fresh. Crystal ponies have no problem sleeping on frozen, hard surfaces and eating equally frozen food if they have to. Earth ponies can deal with the cold, when healthy that is, but cold food for them isn't good for recovery."
>Right ear swiveling at the Matron's advance, the unicorn sighs aloud, staring up at the domed ceiling.
"Worst of all this isn't even cold yet. In a month there might be a hundred hooves of snow and ice packed atop here. I'll give my assurance that hosting him at Razorback is a better option. Off all books, if you would. "
>Rocking back on his hooves, Shining Armor snorts in mock-tiredness, though at least wasn't ejecting Rime at you from the motion.
"We're still trying to connect the Wards having connections in Canterlot, Las Pegasus supporting all sides, one faction in Stalliongrad supporting, three or four more factions in Stalliongrad opposing all of the others except one, and how a Nightblade named Fang Killer got tangled into the whole mess. Isn't that right?"

"That may take days for you to unravel should you place yourself upon such a task. The Conclaves are ill suited to such witherstabbing shenanigans."
>The mare's voice was crisp, younger at least half the age she looked, and had a faint, warm echo between the middle of each word.
>Halting at a polite fifteen hoof distance from the table, the Matron's head dips respectfully at the former Prince, then in your direction, and lastly at the depowered Shell, each motion's afterimage slowly breaking apart.
>Head lifting, the Matron's left forehoof raises to cover a stressed yawn, setting it down afterwards and blinking slowly.
"My apologies. Such injuries I see alone from Killknights of deathly Rime, as yourself Prince, not hot-blooded stallions of stone and overherd. Our home is wrong a place for one such as he."
>If looks could freeze, the unicorn's sudden intense scowl would be flash-crystallizing the table.
"Former."
"The dead yet dance even should they not be seen by those unaccustomed to such sights, yes? And, how is it of this hu`um to see you, perchance he too has the sight?"
"Farezith.. now is not the time. Otherworldly beings often do have one or more of said 'sights'. Now, do you give your assent?"
"I do-"
>Skipping a quarter-beat, the mare's face breaks out in a merry, aggravating grin.
"My Prince."
>Throwing a hoof up to slap his snout, which causes a tiny puff of ice shards to flake off his hooves, Shining's voice combines the desperation of one trying to get away from their title and simmering hopelessness in equal measure.
"AND THERE IT IS! You JUST cannot help yourself, can you?!"
"I can. The question is: may I?"
"No!"
>Smiling in an all-knowing fashion, Farezith lifts her shoulders one by one in a short 'I win here' motion before turning to you.
"Of course not. For Grand Belregard to be so burdened is a rare instance, thus you shall require my aid in transporting Lord Tacit, but you may wish to finish your lunch first."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350349
350396
>>350209
>Her words just went in one ear and out the other, but I listened nonetheless.
>I did understand most of it but it was still leagues ahead of what my world was capable of.
>Grimacing at the slow speed, compared to what she should be able to do, I glance at the small Wild.
"Would it help if I got out and pushed?"

>Looking over the patterns, I attempt to figure out the rough shape of it as she moves, rubbing my chin idly in thought.
>Even if I had no fucking clue about what Construct vessels looked like, shapes were good to know.

"I'd assume so. I know for a damn fact its extremely dangerous as well, considering that... We don't really try it back home. At least in the waters we have."
>Glancing at a tendril briefly, I shrug.
"You've certainly got more advanced ways to do it at least. We just have underwater suits and a dream."
Gryphon Lands: Swe & Budieca's Tower
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350386
351147
>Continued from the end of:
https://ponepaste.org/7821

>Swaying sideways to confirm the pain she was still experiencing, Sand Cutter's ears perk up halfway, then pin onto her skull, head jerking backwards at the Gryphoness' unexpectedly hostile, at least to her, tone.
[1d6 = 6] <U.Medical
>Responding in a carefully flat neutral tone at Budeica's return, the Lady Knight's face betrays her attempt by scrunching in confusion.
"Forgive again my ignorance winged one. I know little of this Vale, the Ancient Fang too is poorly heard of. Our.. ..the pegasi of Stalliongrad once held scattered kin here and among Gryphon Kingdoms in long years past. Little does Stalliongrad care of, save the Enchained monster and her minotaur false-keeper visiting time to time here. Your War Lord I met part-crossed our world, yet hear none I have of this 'Bastard' you speak."
>Remaining still and blinking slowly so as not to disrupt Budeica, or incite the predator's undue attention, the earth mare carefully reaches out for the offered glass, affixing both hooves to it in calm motions, tired eyes squinting in thought.
"Has she not her own mate? Are not your kin moan.. no, mona.. ..clasped one to one? Marely questions I now have for War Lord. Perhaps, later, few against."
>Lifting the glass up for a quick drink, which turns into slow, painful gulps and ends with it empty, clutched to her chest, Sand's worn face becomes a bitterly cold, self-reprimarending state.
"There is to be no 'pay back' by me nor to those whom removed. In search of free land I went, following one human and a gryphon from humans of Razorback in their castle. Set foot, claw, then my hoof before ancient pyramid, one not of Saddle Arabia nor south lands claimed by Princess Argenta. Long lands of death, buried secrets, tainted. Lost to world I think, forgotten by all. Among other winged, three humans, three gryphons would coll.. com.. enter within, into shadows went they. Shadows may I not take hold in, Chose a pack and solid halberd did I, then rested a time asking of them to summon me if needed. Stayed to bask in fresh sun, grass for the first of a year after.. these."
>Lifting her clasped forelegs, the earth mare motions at the slave scars covering them.
"Woken by hurried word of a human I traveled into pyramid, seeking safe stone. Arrived.. late. Of disorder the humans, gryphons, were in combat against one Ceaseless Dead, a match of young dragons. Many and marely wounds to all, blood flowed of streams. The Dead uncaring. To order I commarended humans, gryphons: strike flat and heavy, not with point nor thrust. A young gryphon slain then by Ceaseless brought fury. Of destruction the Ceaseless was conde.. condu.. brought down. In divine duty my failure rings, to shelter all young, innocent. Shame and failure ring aloud by my words against humans, gryphons, heard by all. To task one was taken, a Wing of Shadow covered in stench, rag of death. Alive it was. Wrongly attacked it, I did. To its care winged ones come."
>Letting her forelegs down with the glass, Sand closes her eyes, head turning towards the fire.
"Brought here I was to answer War Lord's call. Gryphons hear my words spoken wrong, leave me upon path. Trust in the earth I did to seek warmth.. thus, I am here."
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350396
350414
>>350349
>After several grinding sounds, a loud *chunk* from her left leg, one large fuse blowing out somewhere above, and a faint straining of metal-on-metal snapping below, the cartoon Wild holds her face, left screen rapidly covered in slurs, swears, and runes of mechanical or electronic nature.
>You couldn't read the rest, but they were assuredly worse.
>Slowing her rate of travel down to a walking speed of one step per three seconds, at east she wasn't screaming out loud and being underwater that wouldn't attract enough attention to be concerned about.
>Probably.
"Any aid would be greatly appreciated, mom. Or materials. Operating-control systems restored from their backups in the head compartment, you may take control of them."
>Two brand new looking not-medically-designed-tendrils poke out from the tiny locker directly under the screen.
>They were somewhat shaped like tank operating controls combined, except covered in buttons, triggers, and miniature screens on the top.

>Connecting the pattern, from each originating point on the eastern cloud to the jumps across onto the western ending cloud, a thin shape emerges:
>An enormous triple-winged aircraft, the first rounded pair skewed forwards at a 60 degree angle, a much larger second at 90 and 260 degree angles directly center ending in triangular protrusions, the third a longer double-beam, like the ones pegasi lancers prefer, pointing backwards at an 80 degree angle.
>The body was structured in five successively thinner layers, similar to a large combat vessel though each were probably levels.
>Ahead of the main vessel were twenty more that you could find due to their spacing, much smaller in shape and resembling racing craft, except carrying large sponsons on both sides.
>Even though you didn't know much of geography or cartography, the extensive damage Wild sustained was the most likely reason she couldn't connect the literal dots.

>Angling her frontal cameras left into the ocean at distant patches of seaweed, up to inspect ash-covered waves overhead, then return to viewing the patterns above, Wild Ride's overhead speakers emit short, static-laden grumbles.
"Limited organics within five hundred meters; common vegetation, majority edible by carbon based lifeforms. It is unlikely local inhabitants will return until the surface is clear but I will continue close range scanning for potential hostiles."
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Arcanum Sensor Array
"Rate of submerged compromised, internal motivator series degraded. Attempting restoration now-"
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #8
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350414
350459
>>350396
>Blinking, I definitely understand that she was in no way, shape, or form, happy with the current predicament.
>Rather obvious, all things told. Even if I couldn't see her face.
"Unfortunately I can't swim so I'll have to make due with... controls."
>For what.
>Hesitantly, I take grip of both, making sure not to touch any buttons without first knowing what the hell they did.

>Silently tracing the dots out, I frown as I take in the shape.
"That's... Quite fucking big. And unusually shaped."
>Glancing over what I believe were more vessels, I shift in the seat.
"And its certainly not alone. This is not fucking good."

"Yeah, and those 'limited' organics may be just as much trouble as a construct is..."
>I'd mutter as she focused back forward.
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.350450
350464
>>350345

"It is like that for all monsters in history, in both Tallus and my old world. In the history books we're measured by our deeds both good and bad and Sombra will be remembered forever more for his misdeeds, ever to overshadow his early achievements in life."
>Said the Operator, concluding the subject matter.

>He rubbed his chin as he listened to Shining, deeply interested at what he was saying about ponies not evolving fast enough to withstand the stresses of complex society.
>It was very much like that with humans too in some regards.
"An interesting observation of ponykind."
>He then looked at Glacier.
"And I am relieved Shattered will be nurtured back to a healthy mind and body here, even it takes some time."

"Whoa.."
>Said Lont under his breath as the Matron came towards him. She was certainly an eyesore and looked like a pony who was important.
>Taking in what the Unicorn was saying as he too gazed at his surroundings, Lont began to envision this place as more of a survival camps than a place of modicum luxury. Yes, he could see it now as if he was back on Furrundus. Thick tents covered in snow with campfires everywhere as everyone was sheltering in said tents or surrounded the open fires while wearing full winter gear, attempting to eek out a living in the relative safety of desolate isolation.
"Yes, off the books, I'm sure they will be discreet with his charge.

>"Hmm, so much has been happening everywhere almost all at once while I was doing my own thing. Whatever can I even do?"
>He thought to himself, not wanting to think too deeply at all the differing connections the Wards had made throughout Equestria.

>Lont straightened up and returned the head dip.
>And he then wished to have kept his head dipped so that he did not have to see the face the Unicorn made, as it made him take a sharp breath and cringe expression.
>Though, he lightened up some more as thee duos interaction continued. It appears this was just a thing they always did and probably will forever do if the Matrons' confidence was anything to go by.

"My lunch?"
>He looked down at his food, completely forgetting about it.
>And his appetite along with it.
>He'll eat again later.
"It is fine, I am done with it now. Give my kindest regards to the chef-mares for the fine food. Now-"
>Lont stood up to his full height and patted himself down.
"Can we move Tacit now?"
Razorback Fortress: Bulletin Board
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350455
A single long, copper-trimmed vellum paper for-sale notice written in ornate Common Equestrian, although using the more stylish flourishes of Crystal Kingdom language.

"From: Astra Galus, Marecenary Biologist of Canterlot Underground, formerly Marquis du Spiral Disclosure's Laboratory & Research Section 03-9G,
To: Razorback Company at whole,

In my possession are a large number of human vehicles recovered from across Tallus, the majority of which are connected to the various weapons sold on Septimber 29,998 to the human Operator known as Pareidolia.

The common vehicles listed below confer a cost of 5,000 gems worth of Bits each. I will not negotiate due to difficulties of acquiring metals and materials to create exact non-functioning replicas for eventual display in the Otherworldly Museum Exhibit, Canterlot Major.

The medium 'Garage' section I have founded contains the following:

-A 1923 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost, brick red coloring, extensive chrome trim. Stock, no modifications. Light interior wear, pristine condition otherwise. This vehicle was recovered from one of several large Stone Flock held storage buildings on the Western edge of Ewerup claimed lands, deliberately stored there by the human whom owned the De Lisle Carbine. A squad of Germaneigh Heavy Cruiser Mareines confirmed a high difficulty of removal due to enemy forces; their names have been redacted by my order.
Extensive analysis of soil, mud, clay, and floral debris indicates it was driven across large sections close to Ewerup's claimed borders to Germaneigh, though it was not seen by border patrol units. It is highly likely that the usage was both political and ceremonial given the unusually ornate decor.
P.S.: I recommarend a careful survey of potential affiliates to Ewerup in case of sympathizers. Ewerup is directly hostile to all non-Ram factions, particularly ponies and related, Otherworldy beings included. The fact that one human was capable of attracting such power to himself and push for hostilities against equine factions is greatly concerning.

-A 1959 Škoda Octavia in cream white. Stock, no modifications noted. Moderate internal wear, minor external damage due to 'off road usage'.
Recovered from Stepping Hoof with the Calico M990-D. Metallurgical and entropic studies show it was delivered in like-new condition, but the minor amount of usage on Tallus is questioned due to a lack of large scale soil or flora samples present across the exterior.

-A 1961 Nissan Datsun 320 in salmon. Stock outside of a modified engine. Heavy interior and exterior wear, minor damage from off road usage. Sent to the Underground from a medium sized trading town in Central Neighsia by the name of Saltpour.
Analysis spells reveal extensive use by a male human of approximately 5'6" height, numerous Neighsian mares also located via numerous hair and mane samples. The variety of insect, and floral samples throughout the exterior indicate it was used as a cargo transport between trading locations.
No further information is known at this time and a secondary investigation is unlikely.

-A 1964 Pontiac GTO in cherry red. Stock interior, some engine, suspension, and frame modifications presumably for racing purposes. Moderate internal wear, minor external damage. Recovered with the Steyr Mannlicher IWS 2000. It had been used frequently and numerous samples from a presumed earth pony mare were located inside.
Initial recovery and comparison to local tracks showed several long distance trips had been taken. Further analysis suspended due to more pressing concerns.

-A 1968 Ferrari Dino 206 GT in saber yellow. Stock interior, racing modifications present. Light interior wear, no damage. Recovered outside a small earth pony and pegasus village in Eastern Equestria. The villagers located this vehicle in early June of 29,998. A forager witnessed it being pushed out of a large stone gate, no description given, by what they believed was a small minotaur.
Investigation by Day Guard Journeymares located nothing out of the ordinary in a 30 mile radius. No presence of Otherworldly human resonances or items located. Considered anomalous and unrelated to Razorback Company.

-A 1973 V6 Ford F-150 pickup in forest green. Light interior wear, minor external damage. Delivered by an Honor Guard SEAR (Search-Extract Armed Rescue) squadron on the Southwest Equestrian border, near the southernmost Gryphon lands in August of 29,998. Extensive search located a small, recently dug grave and an unknown human-scale shove in vicinity.
The vehicle had been delivered as others were, that is, arriving via anomalous means. Nothing else was found after a two day search. The location is unlikely to receive further attention due to geographic distance and difficulties.

A 1982 Piaggio Vespa PX 150E motorcycle, silver paint, 150CC engine. Visible wear is rather light from constant use, and there is no damage. This was recovered with the TOZ KS-23 in Northern Pongolia. Presumed to be recently arrived and of minimal usage.

A 1982 Kalashnikov Concern 2715 panel truck in ocean blue. Significant interior wear, minor external damage. Recovered in Southern Pongolia with the Tula Arms OTs-14.
I am unsure if the human whom owned this was well known to locals or traveled often since access is limited due to rough terrain."

Post #1/2
Razorback Fortress: Bulletin Board
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350456
A 1988 Volvo 480 in dark blue. Tiny amount of internal wear, no damage. Recovered from Blazing Hollows in Saddle Arabia with the Pancor Jackhammer Mark 8a. Nearly mint condition. It did not see much use as the fuel tank is approximately ninety-five percent full.

-1994 Gas Gas Endurocross motorcycle in striped red. 400CC engine, minor modifications, stock otherwise. Light wear, light damage. Recovered from a decommissioned Bronze Guardian barracks somewhere in the High Tropic Belt region of Saddle Arabia near a small city; name of city was not marentioned.
Analysis spells revealed a great deal of use prior to arrival, limited use after. Bronze Guards searched local area but found nothing out of place nor detected Otherworldly resonance. Presumed to be a dead end case.

A 2006 Hyundai Santa Fe in marble white. Stock, no modifications. It appears to have light wear from original use and some minor damage from being used 'off roading'. Recovered from a disused barn near the cache containing the Turin Spectre M4 Subcarbine.
As the location is rocky and experiences sporadic rain from Wild Clouds, it is unclear whether the owner used it often.

Military vehicles:
-A 1941 BMW R75 motorcycle with a sidecar in forest camouflage. Standard 750CC engine, some 'racing' modifications noted. This vehicle was sent from the same translocation matrice in Germaneigh along with the MP-40 and SturmGewehr 44. Analysis shows the unusually heavy wear is consistent with intense usage, approximately 8-9 months or so. An equine occupant is confirmed present due to heavy traces of finely tuned magic resonances, specifically Germaneighan. Some light damage confirmed from rough terrain usage.
20,000 gems worth of Bits, the investigation was extensive and creating an exact copy was difficult even with aid.

-A Volgograd Factory BMP-1D in desert fox camouflage, a non-amphibious stock model with small modifications from what I understand. I believe the engine is standard, no modifications of note. The cannon suffered severe damage though the rest of the turret, including machine gun and grenade launcher, are fully intact. A limited amount of ammunition remains internally. Exterior hull damage is extensive and will require significant repair but the superstructure itself seems mostly intact. Internal hull damage is minor.
Recovered with the Crete Arsenal God-Works L19-4. Confirmed extensive use on Tallus, numerous resonances from two other humans though not ones in our records, nor likely known to Razorback. Nearly all of the damage was caused by Shrike weaponry, in particular 'Lofting' metal. We are still attempting to track down the other two humans, but it is painfully likely either would have survived.
50,000 gems worth of Bits, I will not negotiate on this one due to the difficulties of transporting and producing an exact replica."

Post #2/2
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350459
350661
>>350414
>Taking hold of the controls, both a fairly cool steel composite, Mini-Wild smacks a number of small windows across the right screen before moving itself off the side.
>Attached to the top of each controlling arm were small displays that read out the capability of her repair systems and tendrils, all ten of which were at barely a quarter their normal capability.
>You could probably direct individual repair systems from here, though the position wasn't exactly comfortable.

>The top left section of the right screen displays her exterior hull, which was in poor state as the head cabin had been completely flooded and most of the internals destroyed, excluding one bright white locker panel on the left side.
>Top right section was her Tryptaran Mass, connecting everything internally and externally like muscles and tendons did, which you noted was currently at a severely weakened margin of 36.2%, making her every movement greatly strained.
>Bottom left was her the interior hull, including the four cabins, while the bottom right displayed her internal components and motivator units connected to the exterior armor.
>Eyeing the detailed information scrolling across each, the available readouts of repair status (bad), damage status (quite bad), estimated time for repair (well over 9 hours), estimated time to repair the self-repair systems (under half an hour), estimated time to repair the manual repair systems (less than ten minutes), movement systems (incredibly bad), nominal weight (three-quarters of normal), and current weight (she definitely needed a massive overhaul, especially the chest region) were highly complex.

>Noting each button and trigger was connected to a tiny screen, testing the control systems allowed you to target individual components throughout her body, both external and internal.
>Settling on the chest cabin, the condition for it read out as near perfect: excluding the couch next you to had been lost, air supply reading at 100%, locker space under 10%, and comfort level at 99% due to air conditioning and seating.
>The exterior diagram was a patchwork of poorly laser-welded metal sheets and severely damaged internal structures acting as skeleton, reading out at a dismal 28% integrity.

>Keeping her course.. reasonably steady with another lumbering step, the Eldritch-Android's speakers crackle in a non-committed noise.
"My processing systems are only able to keep track of two Construct Vessels, smaller Construct units, the local area, and my own repairs due to severe damage on nodal networks and databanks, I lack the processing capability to do anything more. What is 'quite fucking big', 'unusually shaped', and 'certainly not alone'? Progress report: no further organics detected in vicinity."
>Strained as your daughteru was, it appeared the internal screens were poorly connecting the miniature Wild form to her main thoughts.
>Or whatever she used to think.
"Clarification: edible forms of seaweed and various organics in the majority. Limited forms of non-edibles in minority. Minor amounts of potentially poisonous and toxic organ-"
>Suddenly coming to a full halt and rocking side to side, the chest cabin tilts forwards at a concerning angle, the left screen's view and strain of metal denoting she was kneeling.
"WARNING: severe oceanic waveform impacts occurring in approximately thirty seconds, brace for impact! Initiating solid state composite backups and nodal unit repairs-"
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #8

[1d6 = 3] <Damaged Sensory Node #1
Northern Empire Tundra: The Melodine Conclave
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350464
350654
>>350450
"Self-cognizance is a trait ponies are quite capable at. Self-realization and actualization are not. Psions and Crystal ponies might have different modern herd structures though they're the same in practice. Most unicorns however.."
>Both sides of the Crystal-Revenant's eyebrows pull back in 'agreed' motions before flicking an ear at the Matron, likewise content to let both topics drop.

>Partially swiveling to inspect the three still cooking mares, Farezith returns to make a polite sniff at the mostly empty table.
"They are aware and appreciative of your words. A shame it is they are more concerned for duty than intentions at play but I will ensure the remainder be mine, it is six hours past my own battime and I yet await the rest of my Conclave."
>Sensing the unspoken yet playful threat towards both you and the Prince, Shining Armor finally does roll his eyes, silently looking as if he'd rather die again than hear jokes on reproduction or puns.
"Of course. A few seconds if I may-"
>Humming a single, cool white-pink fruit tasting note, the unconscious earth pony is lifted from his cot in a thick dark red blanket and floated towards the obscenely colored Matron.
>Leaning forwards to ensure Tacit's head and limbs were at suitable angles, Farezith swivels on hoof at the entrance, clopping towards the medium translocation stone with ringing steps, her strange afterimage trailing still.
"Secure as can be. To the Fortress of Razorback we shall arrive, at your leisure."

>Instantly relieved at the Crystal mare's distance, the ex-Prince tosses you a grim but assured look.
"I'll find out what I can on the human woman, including how she died twice in one night. There's bound to be a few Shells and InterPonies still active, will send a crystal holoplate once I'm done investigating. Take care of Tacit, but mostly yourself."
>Left foreleg lifting in a quick informal salute, Shining Armor sighs to himself and, with more reluctance than a batpony putting on Night Guard armor, slides towards the Ethereal Champion grumbling under his non-existent breath.

>Waiting for you to step onto the stone, the Matron's colors dim briefly as a subdued blue and yellow tunnel opens to swallow two ponies and you.
>No nausea or urge to tilt a few degrees, distinctly for business matters this time.
>Smoothly transitioning to the Pagoda, all was.. quiet.
>No scribbling, muttering, or objects being sorted by Naliyna to the south.
>No Shanis right and next to the entrance, although the slim, bright white seal was now lying asleep in a pile of mangoes.
>Even the Lunar Councilmare had left, the giant packs she'd brought not even leaving an imprint across either west side couch.
>There wasn't a single human or pony in sight, sound, or scent.

>Surveying the unusual Neighsian-influenced structure briefly, the Matron's head swivels in your direction.
"I had thought the home of humans to be a bit more active. Regardless, to where shall I deliver Lord Tacit?"
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350526
350664 350683
>>350213
>"Not a pony."
>Ivan chuckled a little and glanced the box over.
"Did you happen to find a Meat Chunk or something while you were around those pools?"
>Ivan looked up at the mention of an RPK and MG36.
>Both definitely peaked his interest.

>Ivan let out a low whistle upon seeing the beast of a sidearm in Anon's hand.
"That'd definitely break a wrist without a powered exoskeleton."
>It looked like it would put a serious dent in a Pseudogiant, even.
>He didn't even mind the name as he admired the BFR.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350530
350531
>>350044
"Sounds like you had a wild ride. Glad to see you back."
>Bubba let out a dry chuckle as he leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Something similar back home, except its about a monkey's paw. Make sure you're very specific with a wish or else it'll curl and fuck you over."
>Bubba let out a small snort at that, shaking his head.
"I'd have agreed with that about... Two hours ago or so. Unfortunately its going to get a lot more annoying very soon."
>An understatement for sure.
>Bubba looked up and accepted the scroll, idly looking over.
"Well... I'd be damned.."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Bat(Cave)!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350531
350539
>>350530
"Two months of being treated worse than dealing with the Hyfalgryph one time? I'll take being here for the rest of my life and ignoring any shitshows that happen with complete happiness and a lack of sobriety."
>Reaching forwards into a ponial vortex with one hoof, the Engineer pulls out a large bottle, decorking it with the other, chuckling drlyly.
"I get it. Unicorns have the same concept, it's called wearing a second horn, not the lower one mind you. It's something Spiral was guilty of, trying to be capable of everything he wasn't. Funny names for both."
>Knocking back a triple shot salvo, the unicorn keeps it steady while his tone flattens.
"Caught a number of conversations while stuck in the Day Guard jail. Half the Solar nobles want to 'try again' with Razorback. Little over a quarter are staying neutral, rest are against but they don't have much power. Canterlot Royals are split in every direction but I did hear a few want to reset relations. Some Prenchmare with connections has been dredging the city for human supporters a few months now. Next time I'm sober I'll spend some time writing down what can be confirmed."

>Poking the text once, the letters glow faintly enough to read by.
>Written in careful scrawls, General Valden of New Canterlot, Honor Guard, as of yesterday morning was advertising a 500 Bit bounty on each confirmed piece of information related to the death of one Nightblade Fang Killer of Luna's Citadel, Starborn.
>Immediately below that is a 50,000 Bit bounty for information leading to the execution of a still as-of-yet unknown psion responsible for Fang Killer's death in Canterlot.
>In the center was a 1,000 Bit bounty on confirmed actions and each item sold by Lucky (last name unknown) of Las Pegasus, a 2,000 Bit bounty on any confirmed actions taken by Ward members from the Empire.

>On the reverse is a 10,000 Bit bounty for the arrest of one Mist Dancer, former Honor Guard unicorn, offensive expert and medic, now presumed to be a rogue actor.

"For good or bad?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350539
350547
>>350531
"Could use a lack of sobriety myself."
>He chuckled and thunked his head lightly against the bat cave wall.
"Damn Pagoda dropped an "admiralty" title on me right after we got some very shitty news. Gonna have to tell it sorry for the way I reacted later."
>He nodded as he listened.
"Would be good to... patch some things up. At the very least some things would be less difficult to deal with in the future. Though I would need to see how everyone else feels about it."

>As he read, he'd quietly mutter the text under his breath, quickly going through the scroll.
"Mmm, bounty hunting's not exactly my forte, which is basically what this is. I'll stick it on the board either way."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Bat(Cave)!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350547
350551
>>350539
"Have at it. Be careful, that's straight Moonshine. May or may not have been taken from an evidence locker."
>Setting the bottle next to you with a vindictive snort, the Engineer kicks back, pausing to glance at you in disbelief.
"An actual Admarealty title? From the Vortex Remnant? Makes nearly all my top twenty weirdest list from that thing. Still, didn't know Equestria had any remaining after the Lunar-Solar War. Neighsia, Germaneigh, Prance, Saddle Arabia, Argenta's forces have some. Maybe even Manehattan but I haven't been there in thirty some years."
>Returning to the cigar and taking a hefty puff, he gives a low dismissive noise.
"My suggestion: do the bare minimum to keep from being outright hated and figuratively buck the rest. Or literally. Then again don't listen to me, I don't care anymore. I'd rather deal with a thousand batponies every night than one more ignorant or superstitious Canterlot hooflicker."
>Pointing at the scroll with his cigar, the Engineer breathes out a thick, fruit scented cloud.
"Some Enchained unicorn I've never met before hoofed it off to me, said to keep it safe until coming back here. That one on Mist Dancer isn't something a General would issue without being sure his balls would remain intact. Before I took this job she was listed in the Honor Guard's surveillance and intelligence squadron. Keldon hated her, wasn't let near the Palace before I took you all there. Might be worth asking the Guardmares or mercs, some of them wanted her gone. Rest are safe to proceed on."
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.350548
350558
>>350253
>Mallia's brow furrows at the brief, but suddenly heated argument between the twins and Andronal.
(Not the--healthiest, way to shut down an argument... Andronal.)
>Then her brow shoots up with surprise and delight at the news of the forge being open to her.
(--And thank you!! I'm so eager to get to work! Though the list of work keeps getting longer, and it hasn't even been 24 hours...)

>She looks at Olympia as she sniffs at the mechadendrite. The tendril remains by her chin, but starts to withdraw to perching just on her shoulder as the Sunspot spoke.
"I haven't actually asked yet..."
"Time to ask... Right now!"
>Replied Mallia, an amused and cheeky-looking smirk crossing her face as she hears the 'enginseer. please.', from Andronal. She doesn't answer, instead paying much more attention to Witch-Two's statement.
(Understood! I'll just amend Olympia from 'cute xeno friend' to 'Sanctioned Eternis cute xeno friend'.)
(Also! Andronal... How old are you?)

>... Even if her "IFF" was already tuned unconsciously, she, regardless, takes this opportunity to send a binary ping to the micro-cogitator. She forwards it the simple request to flag Olympia as Inquisitorially Eternally Sanctioned (which it probably already did) and to transmit the same to all other systems in the present and future where necessary.
>With that done, near-instantly, she spends two more nano-cycles conjuring code for the simple task of empathically transmitting warmth and affection as well as a code-touch to, very briefly, envelop the machine-spirit in the closest approximation of a hug she could create.
>It's been a while since she reminded the machine spirit that she loved them, after all.

>As she "softly" harassed her micro-cogitator's machine spirit with affection, she also beholds the sight of Chisan giving Olympa coin.
>Her mechadendrite starts to slip down her shoulder and back around her back.
>She smiles at the sight, and at Nashka as well, especially.

>Then... She begins to go through a few possibly strange expressions.
>First, amusement at the silly ASCII shenanigans from Tox-11--smirking and crinkling her nose.
>Then she starts to even that out, concentrating a bit more, rapping her fingers along her sides while her mechadendrite's claws click a few times. Going through the process of absorbind the knowledge that a Sunspot, possibly, reproduce. Which was... Fine. Kind of.

(Ahuh... Alright, interesting...)
(Uhhhhh)
(... Wait why did...)
(Woah there's so many--!)
(Wh-)
(She--)
...

>She blinks, mild shock prompting her to self-consciously dart her eyes between everyone gathered there with them, her blush steadily brightening until she was red as a tomato.
>Silence for about 10 nano-cycles, examining and double-checking certain things. Namely the AMOUNT of pictrecordings, the fact this wall all approved by virtually everyone...
>She doesn't really sample the pictrecordings, but does go through enough frames to get the jist before removing it from her cognition by going onto something else.
(... She wrote a book... Oookay then.)

>Thankfully, Olympa was no longer next to her or paying specific attention to her in that moment, having since moved to Chisan to heal him.
>Something she almost misses out on entirely given 80% of her focus was on the FOUL SMUTTERY empyrical data and outrageous interesting guide that she now knew existed.

>The worst was was that she was very curious about the book's contents.

(Uh... Where do I put this. I don't have a ... place for this stuff...)
(I guess it is... scientific. I can just put it along with what I have on ponies.)
(... Although I'm getting pretty curious about that guide now...)

>As the others discussed the important things, Mallia was just lingering there in the background of it all with her arms folded, and a hand half-on her lips; engrossed in thought.
>Though when her knight approached, Mallia blinked out of it. She smiles genuinely to Raindrop. Though she glances in confusion at the way the wind extends to her like that... But she took it, and saddles up onto Raindrop.
"We didn't even get to open up those safes in the vault..."
>Mallia said, sounding rather sad about it as she casts a look towards the gateway..
"... At least things seem to be going well."
>She remarks, mostly to herself, as her glance sweeps down towards Olympa... Then back downward towards Raindrop, holding on tight as she speaks softly to the knight.
"Did you see that though, Raindrop?? She healed Chisan! Apparently?? That was--"
"... Pretty good! I haven't seen anything like that before...! Is it really that easy?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350551
350622
>>350547
"Mm, haven't had moonshine in years. Brother had a small distillery to make a couple jugs every year, until it detonated and took off half his face."
>Bubba nodded and took a swig, grimacing from the burn.
"Definitely good stuff."
>He snorted and passed the bottle back to the Engineer.
"Yeah, said something about wanting to just be an admiral back home and it popped up to drop that on me. Right after I accepted three new humans from Germaneigh."
>He shrugged and looked over.
"I'll ask the other old timers still around first, see what they think about it. Rather not piss off half of Razorback on accident."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350558
351021
>>350548
'age = seniority. im older than them by twice and lacking appreciation for puns means they shouldnt complain or i get the thunder hammer. sleep when you can here, rushing isnt necessary'
>Rather self-assured in a new pose, Tox-11 displays a massive list of materials in stock, mostly base metals, some metalloids, limited crystallines, a few rare metals, some exceptionally rare elements, and a baffling variety of organic resources scavenged on planet.
>Only a few hadn't fully investigated, though all deemed safe excluding an 'unstable semi-material explosives' selection.
'i will order Chisan to send you somewhere nude, bound, and gagged if this unacceptable situation continues, enginseer'
'I sincerely doubt a Tempestus Scion would accept that.'
'think i wont do it?'
'Andronal, you would not dare.'
'wrong. i dare you push that button witch. in fact i dare both of you'
'He will not, I guarantee it.'
[1d6 = 2] <Tox-11

>Resounding a half-there litany of service, the Machine-Spirit was happy.
>Also a bit confused since it was merely performing a vital service.

'All of her research was fully sanctioned, no disagreements were allowed. Two copies of her volume exist: the original is mostly complete with notes in the forge-works office, second table, third drawer left, wireless codepass PX-8c65-3yH. Second was to be a gift, for whom I was not told. You have permission to keep hold of the second until Flash recovers. It may prove useful to study the more cultural aspects of equine habits.'

>Sliding onto the cool yet somehow still comfortable black steel saddle, the Knight's head swivels partway to smile in a lazy 'there's always later' marener.
"Hay, don't worry about them, tonight's been real busy. Razorback can't waste any useful materials so it'll be a few hours until someponies and someones come here to start collecting. Besides, those safes are heavier than me and I don't feel anywhere near like dragging one up to the stone."
>Carefully running the left hand over the same side of his chest, thumping his ribs with balled fist, then twisting side to side quickly, the Tempestus Scion straightens up with a confounded expression.
"That could not have been mere healing. There are no difficulties moving."
>Flicking her ears back and forth between you and Chisan, the raspberry pegasus cocks her head back.
"I don't think so, no, least not that I can remember. Most forms of magical healing, unicorns, Crystal ponies, alchemy, what have you, always leave a few traces. Microfractures, bit of pain, discomfort, remnants a bruise, blood loss, stuff like that. You're not feeling anything out of the ordinary?"
"Not an iota of pain, bruising, muscle stress."
"Huh. No idea then, sorry. What I do know about Heralds is minor, well, heh, and that she's a minor but no, healing's never that easy."
>Left eyebrow raising before allowing a short armed shrug, the Storm Trooper visibly forgives the pegasi's pun in the interest of time, about facing to follow Sergei and his team having picked up their equipment.
"Then I will make that a question for later when possible. If you two are ready?"
"Almost always."
"I meant are you ready n-"
"Of course!"
>Plasma-strength facepalm.
>Loud pegasus mare chortling.
>It was more a science than an art for her now.

>Ignoring the helmet stuck behind you, Raindrop tosses one last glance at the vault before striding after Chisan back into the Depository's entrance.
>Pausing only to quickly collect their heatstones, the Vostroyan archaics step outside into a bright yellow-orange mist while the Scion tosses carapace armor chunks into his pack, donning the chest and arms swiftly.
>Taking the rear position and handing your Laspistol back in exchange for his Hotshot variant, Chisan reaches out to tap the Knight's helmet briefly.
"Commit when ready."
>Nodding once to herself, Raindrop takes a hesitant step out of the Depository, then another, making loud crunches despite the slack rain off to either side.
"She dried out this muck in less than a minute?"
"Improved magical side effects due to abnormal heat scale temperature control. Possible near-plasma usage."
"Right, got it."
>Her tone was definitely 'I don't get it at all but I'll work with that'.
>Following the squad's crunches ahead and upwards, doing her best not to lean to either side, Raindrop keeps a steady pace up the hill, Chisan having less trouble than her.

>Nearly blind in the mist, the three of you reach a flat surface four-point-three minutes later, though she halts in front of a bright spot surrounded by tall figures.
>Which turns out to be Olympa excitedly spinning around and interrogating the squad in a near-Vostroyan language, stopping only to wave a blazing wing in your direction which clears the mist substantially.
"Come on come on I wanna see your city!"
"It's not a city, more a medium sized fortre-"
"Then hurry 'cause I wanna see your fortress!"
"It's.. not mine, we all live th-"
"I don't mind who owns it, just take me there!"
>A half-snort from Chisan and muffled chortling from Raindrop do absolutely nothing to alleviate the squad's pain.

>Hearing the unusual chimes of sigils and runes being tapped by a boot, the rapid shift in air temperature and humidity along with a dark brown tunnel indicate translocation was taking place again, though this time there was no stomach churning or nauseous sensations.
>Dropping a bare inch or so down within the Pagoda's center, Raindrop landing the heaviest, it was now utterly empty save for an a strange, bright white mammal lying facedown on a northwest couch, surrounded by orange fruits.
>As she begins to speak, the Sunspot immediately vanishes in a puff of white and yellow.
>Head shaking back and forth slowly, Raindrop's head turns back to offer a mischievous smile.
"She'll be fine. It's the other humans I'm worried about. Or maybe not."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Bat(Cave)!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350622
350662
>>350551
>Taking hold of the bottle and lifting it in a respectful motion, the Engineer sighs.
"Best friends and another year."
>Chugging off another row and setting it down, he flicks the cigar with a snort.
"Must like you quite a bit then, Remnants take years to feel comfortable talking. I say go for it, there's plenty of batponies and some Ferron that'd help out. Got nothing to lose except a bit of sleep. And hearing."
>Side-eyeing you briefly, the Engineer cracks a grin and motions towards the distance gates.
"I've been here longer than every other pony save two. You are one of the old timers, and technically so am I. Now if you'll excuse me I've got a pass to test, can I make it to my shack without crashing more than five times-"
>Standing in a single motion, the unicorn rocks once, twice, half-swaying as he points towards a bundle of red and green in the crudest shape of pony imaginable, slinking from the Pagoda towards the Library.
"That's new and creepier than Sweet. Supposed to be here?"
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.350654
350674
>>350464

>With Tacit ready and floating as comfortable as can be by Farezith' side Lont began to move around the table.
"At my leisure, and it shall not be long."
>Kneeling beside Glacier he gave the Shell a pat on the head before looking towards where her foal was.
"Shining."
>He got up.
"When Shattered Glacier wakes up tell her I enjoyed my time with her and I hope to see her again in the future, give the same regards to her foal too."
>Lont requested from Shining with a smile creasing his lips, and returns the salute.

>With heavy steps placed himself next to the matron and stood locked in place on the translocation stone. He looked back at the surrounding Conclave and its ponies, and remembered his time back in the Crystal Empire proper. It was ultimately fruitful he felt. He felt it in his chest as surely as his heartbeat that he was taking the first few steps in fixing the schism between the Crystal Kingdom and Empire.
>And for who or why? For Cadence of course.
>His hands clenched into fists, he hoped that whatever he sent to Cadence will help her in her dilemma.
>She has gone through so much, she doesn't deserve any of this.
>"That's just personal bias talking."
>He thought to himself, ruthfully.

>Crossing his arms he took in a breath and was taken by the translocation magic.
>He blinked and he was...home again such as it was. As much his as it was for everyone else here, human or otherwise.
"Welcome to Razorback Farezith! Enjoy your stay."
>Lont said while sweeping his arms around.
>Stepping off the stone he went to the seal and began to pet it. Everywhere.
"But yes, it would usually be more active..."
>Hands still busy with the seal he looked around to see why it was so quiet.
"Follow me to where you can lay Tacit, but first let me get my bearings. I don't like that it is silent."
[1d6 = 2] >E.Perception
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] >H.E
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350661
350676
>>350459
>I'd stare down at the controls for a moment, before realizing something very critical about this.
>I had no fucking clue on how to operate these damn things.

>Glancing over the displays, I frown softly. While I didn't exactly understand how Wild worked, I could tell that she was very fucked up.
"I'll admit... I have no fucking clue on how to work these things. Or what needs repairing first. I don't know the first thing about welding, underwater or not."

"At the moment we shouldn't worry about that, we should be more concerned about getting out of this damn water and to... relative safety."
>I was about to say something, but shut up at the warning.
"I'll brace as much as I can in this thing."
>After a very, very brief pause, I put the puffer into a pocket so it doesn't get tossed around and detonate inside the cabin.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350662
350679
>>350622
"And to warm 'earts and warmer bellies."
>He raised his hand in a toast, mimicking the Engineer.
"Hell, might even be able to bring up some designs I studied back in school. Of course, it'd have to be modified to suit the oceans here better."
>He thought for a moment.
"Maybe a boat or two for the fountain as well. That I could do in a few days."
>Bubba would stand up as well, popping his back idly as he lets out a groan, before taking the bottle of moonshine in hand.
>The swig he had wouldn't affect him, but if allowed to the rest of it...

"The fuck is that."
Dr_Juan_Carlos
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.350663
350721
>>350301
>Juan Carlos eyes the vial suspiciously as he eyes some latent magical traces in the sample.
>'Arcane poisoning from the infusion? Additional tests on the ponies' end must be performed...'
>As Nova lists off her attempts at managing her condition he listens intensely.
>He was still a doctor. Coincidentally, one that new more than his share of neurological disorders. Narcolepsy wasn't a popular or profitable disease, but it was still within his expertise.
"All valid methods to relax the body and keep it from going cataplexic. We humans have isolated the cause to be a lack of neurotransmitters we call hypocretin. It regulates the normal day and night time sleep schedule. Knowing this we focus to try and trick the brain into producing more of it around the time of normal sleep: keep a scheduled sleep schedule, sleep in a quiet, comfortable place. Avoid alcohol, smoking, exercising, and heavy eating several hours before going to bed. Even intentionally taking short naps throughout the day to alleviate noticeable sleepiness prior to an episode. Ah, so you are a mix? Genetics appear to be a factor. Crossbreeding mutación could have resulted in an autoimmune disorder that attacks the brain's cells that produce hypocretin."
>He takes the Ward's interest with care as she observes the application process of the A-line.
"Compared to most human conventional medicine, it is like waving a magic wand. For some, the familiar practices is a comforting one. Aye, but the invasive nature of human procedimientos originate mostly from us fighting eachother. Unfortunately, war bred the most efficient ways to keep humans alive."
>The Doctor nods in agreement to Nova Flicker's assessment of Snakebite, he pans over to one of the blood samples that did not require seperation.
"Gives a whole new meaning to vitamin D now! Human-safe dragon supplements? Hoho! Some of these samples I will examine as a control. Hmm... there is small traces of Arcane Poisoning present in these samples. But it seperates dissipates quickly from the blood. Would that be pertinent to a low concentration? Could the egg have possessed anti-Arcane Poisoning propiedades? Also si. Doctor Heartbreak confirmed no anomalous bacteria or potentially dangerous foreign bodies. The vacuum in this room and dual antibiotic therapy should keep exposure down to a minimum."
>Carlos raises an eyebrow with interest as Nova talks about the new building plans, nodding in approval.
"An excelente idea, Seniorita Flicker! Razorback appears to be growing in populace, lately. More than a clinica is going to be necessitia. If you would like a consultation on making it more human-friendly, I would be happy to providing asistencia."
>Finally focusing back on the final patient, he nods as the list of injuries grows and worsens and leads back through the door's and over to the aforementioned patient's room.
"All of these patients tonite... such wonton ways of injuries. Si. If Princesa de la Noche demands maximum care, then that is what we will provide. Senore Snakebite will be fine, for the time being. I would like to inspect her first. Can we bring Abuela Tipper's diagnostic spell over, or is it tied to Senor Snakebite?"
Razorback Fortress: The Armory, Aiutante
GM_Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.350664
350683
snickeringLuna.png
>>350213
>>350526
>Aiutante shares in the gawking at the monstrous hand cannon Anon was presenting, along with Ivan.
>The more he shows it off, the more she's visibly taken back at the over design and materials used.
"Oh. My... goooosh. Lookit that thing! It looks like it can put down even Misses Twisted for good. Teehee, psyche, I'm only kidding!"
>She held up a hoof to her muzzle to muffle a snort, which quickly evolved into a polite giggle.
"I'm sorry for laughing, Mr. Anon. It's more than I can like ever put together, right now. You humans sure do like love your guns. Hmmm..."
>The craft mare saunters up right to Anon as he still brandishes the Raging Pony, levitating her overpacked notebook from wherever she had previously been stashing it and under her nose. Perhaps a closer and thorough inspection will quell her concerns.
"You didn't like... throw it in the Magitek Furnace at one point, did you?"
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <B.Research: Smithing + Hodch's Disciple
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Aiutante's Notebook
Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.350667
351067 351072
tiredafboi.jpg
>>349595
>Maneuvering south and around the Tainted forces, Jeff detaches his mask from one side to let it hang and takes a breather as he takes cover behind one of the hostels; finding mostly Lunar faction teams. While Clem caught up, he observed the battlefield:
>Far behind the Tainted forces, he could just make out the Lunarite Collective broke out of the Void Anchor. He could only observe their movements from here, hoping to be able to regroup with them.
>Marshmallow Moon appeared to be holding her own and whittling down what forces she could with frightening Void attacks. Luna's daughter, she definitely was.
>He had to shield his eyes from a literal carpet bombing of the Tainted forces from manabombs from above.
>Further ahead he saw even more airborne forces laying more manabombs and what he could only guess were some sort of land mines. His best guess they were infused with Void to some degree for maximum damage.
>Along with Lunar forces he notices a lot of Dark Horse Cultists doing the same, but dropping entire saddlepacks on the southern buildings.
>Looking North, he sees the bloodhost pony along with more Cultists. North of them past the fountain was a normally impressive number of Watch guard. The Tower General's forces he assumes.
>That was basically the Councilerge helping defend the Basin Village at this point, but he wasn't going to scoff at their aids at this point despite their piss-poor relationship.
>His figuring is the Lunar and Moorite forces are trying collapse the southern buildings to funnel the Tainted into a kill alley right up the southern road with the larger bombs, reducing numbers with the smaller manabombs and mines. Once they get far enough into the Village, the bloodhost and Watch Guard will start their own attack. An Alamo-style last defensive line tactic after the ambush.
>As the Tainted mass slams into the flaming wreckage of the Dagor, Jeff silently apologizing to an saluting its sacrifice Clem finally catches up and regroups.
>They're going to need some serious reinforcements, if they were going to hold the Basin.
>One of the Moorites near you addresses Clem as he takes cover. His concerns were more geared towards the mother of all portable manabombs being armed, and he's never armed one himself but it didn't exactly look safe to handle.
"Fighters are fighters at this point, long as we're all working together. Should we... be near that thing? We're not exactly equipped to handle ordinance, but we'll move with you up North. Anyway, I have a squad disconnect from me on the other side of those Tainted. I need to borrow some forces."
>Jeff observes the Luanr forces around him taking cover, and issue an attention-grabbing order in batpony before talking normally in Common.
"I need some of you to help me out, please! I need two fliers: one to get around those Tainted and to a group of Lunarites behind them that need to be rerouted back to me! The second one needs to have a good memory and be ready to fly to the main trans matrice ASAP!"
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <M.Leadership: Rally Ponies?(+3 batpony rep when applicable)
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6 = 4] <Amateur Tactics

>>281663
>>281914
>Finally getting a chance to reply to Clem, he gives him a bemused look in the midst of impending battle.
"Yeah I bet it isn't her only one, too. She showed up while I was running salvage on that old crypt. Would you believe that I found actual vampires?!"
>Jeff airlessly laughed at the notion out loud.
"Sixteen Lunarite vampires, like a thousand years old! Just sleeping in a half-sunken swamp crypt, just my luck tonight! Now I got to get them to the Citadel to help fight off the Constructs. Apparently shit's still going on up there, since we pulled Pare out. I got to not-die here so I can go to that next. *HUFF* Holy fuck... I'm beat."
>He runs the harrowing tasks off nonchalantly akin to a husband checking off the laundry list of errands for the day. Just one thing at a time, at this point.
>Collecting his thoughts he motions Clemency to look down the Southern road they just ran and up in the air to the flying ponies setting up ambushes with explosives along the road.
"They're going to hit them with every manabomb they have left and ambush the Tainted as they push North. You wouldn't happen to have anything on that SOLG that can help us down here, would you? Ugh, also the comms at Razorback are still silent. I have to send a runner to the matrice and try to get a message to Razorback for a QRF. Sunny didn't take a radio and I think Mercy's shellshocked. We don't have enough numbers to hold those Tainted off."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350674
350854
>>350654
"I will."

"I may do when frost is upon the leaves. A bit hotter here is than most Conclaves find comforting."
>Head tilting both ways, then turning about several times to examine the entire structure, Matron Farezith smiles appreciatively.
"Cool, defended, wide open, excellent vantage points, and one of the Kingdom's elder daughters is here. Hale of hoof and officially mareried I see. A pleasant locale it is."

>Stroking the cool, sleeping pinniped, the most distinct feature was its sleek, waterproof coat that could easily be mistaken for short, straight brushed Empire lamb wool.
>Underneath were robust, considerably finer secondary hairs, then a soft layer of fat that rippled under your fingers.
>Finding no ears to pet, instead a pair of small internal ear divots, upon brushing the seal's snout you confirm it to be nearly pony like: equal parts squishy, soft, and warm.
>Making a single pass on the right flipper, a tiny layer of secondary hairs combined with soft, pliable skin felt quite similar to batpony wings, except for being less downy.

>Examining the seal's couch first, you note Shanis had been here with the pinniped for quite some time judging by the small rounded imprints of Moors mangoes around a pegasus.
>Either said seal preferred the day hour time or slept like batponies did.
>Inspecting where Gale Ironmane had been, faint traces of the heavy packing bags were mostly gone; the scent of a non-lewd Lunar pegasus still hangs in the air complete with traces of strong alchemicals.
>Checking Naliyna's stall there was a clear lack of disorder: all of Razorback's paperwork was gone, and the various crystal plates she used in her hololith were nowhere to be seen.
>Not only that, the table's center, facing her tent, had been bitten onto while several jagged ironwood splinters surrounded each leg.
>The damage could only have been caused by the trademare herself since her daughters lacked the berserker tendencies, and the rest of her family had returned to the Spire city-state.
>Outside the Pagoda, not a single human or pony could be seen or heard, though the telltale burnt-air stench from rippling Primal Psion energies was still here.

>In the distance towards the Library, and then near the Mess Hall, were numerous examples of Bren's last P.U.P.S. projects, these being the semi-permarenent defensive variant, ever familiar combat rifle and longer battle rifle barrels aimed skywards.

>Ears snapping up and forwards, the older Conclavist inhales sharply, muttering a harsh, unfamiliar word in Kingdom under her breath.
>Releasing in a smooth exhale, Farezith speaks in a quiet, firm tone, glancing at Tacit's unconscious face, then back to the seal.
"A momarent of indulgence if you accept it. Long had Tallus known the natures of seals, little harried were they for equine, dragon, minotaur alike beloved them. Amongst the Western Conclaves they were praised and entreated greatly, few were the mares whom did not shower gifts upon one. Before the Late Dynasty's collapse the Seal Colonies disappeared off Tallus. The Conclaves believed them extinct, still do. How is it a Polar seal comes to be here first?"
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350676
350685
>>350661
>Inspecting one screen at a time, each listed what the directly associated triggers or buttons were intended to perform:
>Overall movement of Wild's body is dictated by the direction of both controls in tandem, all but one trigger of her original (now severely damaged, destroyed, or offline) active or passive sensor and scanning systems, two buttons that would issue orders, the first for long ranged combat, the second for melee.
>Underneath a palm's length you find a complex web of interconnected repair systems, including diagnostics, relating to a 'Grade 1' and 'Grade 2', then ten more for each tendril, though the last two were marked as 'DESTROYED'.
>The micro-screen underneath listed material names, compositions, atomic weights, and viability for repair; you knew most of them offhand as standard or common Tallus derived metals, but had virtually zero experience in working with them.
>Further buttons and switches list specific actions, most of which dealt with turning internal systems off or on, though the most worrying one was still lit: 'Central Cabin Right Crash Couch'.
>Exactly where you were sitting right now.
>You understood what the basic meanings and intentions of what the systems were supposed to do, yet without further study you were probably going to explode something.

"Understood mom. Processing and interface capabilities severely limited to me right now, currently at 11.3% and 9.7%. Addendum: Tryptaran mass lower than 30%, I am in a near-critical state. I have not detected a Scar of the Moors in half an hour. At current the Construct pair and smaller units are still six minutes from reaching the exact coordinates I entered the ocean. It is unknown if they will attempt pursuit. Internal hull is holding strong against current water pressure but I do not know the risks of submerging deeper."
>A stressed hollow popping sound occurs above and to the right some distance, somewhere in the empty shoulder cabin.
"...minus one percent to the first. A secondary sensor node is continuously failing and I do not have the knowledge to repair it fully."
>That explained her limited comprehension and lack of situational awareness.
>Probably?

>Emitting a merry squeak at being moved around, the Skipper wiggles several times until becoming rigid.
>Leaning forwards a degree further, Wild's arms wrap around the chest cabin while her tendrils continue their severely hindered attempts at restoring her leg systems.
"Calculating tidal impact coefficients... unknown risk. Attempting to seal head unit damage-"
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #8

[1d100 = 93] <Wave #1
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Bat(Cave)!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350679
350737
>>350662
"Get Krinza on that, he's always been good with everything except wood. Not his own. I mean, no, schematics, designs, that's what I was trying to say. Pun not intentional."
>Not slurring just yet, the Engineer exhales in a dry fashion.
"Could always do with more fun. Malyne, most pegasi, batponies would love a real boat even if it's not going far out. Out four. Far."
>Trying to keep from stumbling, the yellow stallion plants all four legs at mismatched angles, dedicating what brain power he could to remain standing.
"Nope, not a pony and not one I've seen before. Or before."
>Either he'd downed a few drinks prior to coming back or unicorns were that bad at holding their liquor.

>Halting a distance south from the Pagoda, the pseudo-creature stops, what might be a head eerily swiveling around without a semblance of skeletal or internal structure.
>Twisting itself into multiple shapes, the colored bundles shift from vaguely unicorn, pegasus, earth pony, human, a small minotaur complete with fake horns, last a large canine or similar mammal, repeating several times.
[1d6 = 6] <Choice

"I have seen a creature like that before, not here. 29,990 Lunar Guard Museum.. pretty sure that's where. Not a shapeshifter like Changelings, a planer shifter I think. Wait, a planer is wood. Right word is Planar. You know what I mean, or do you?"
Razorback Fortress: The Armory
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350683
350687 351047
>>350526
>Shoving hands in pockets and bending forwards a fraction, the tall man's partially hidden gaze inspects the exo.
"Hrm. Can't say I understand much of the methodologies behind what they've done. At least not consciously. To answer your question, between dodging entropic fields that would scramble or kill me.. maybe? There was an object that looked an awful lot like a pile of undercooked potato and rock. I'm still a bit limited on what can be accessed and the amount of time I have, especially since the Era Lock hasn't changed any. Not that I expect it to. Did see another Duty in shit armor, much worse condition, parts of a melted suit, bunch of objects getting pulled into said pool, and a can under the rubble. Speaking of which that should be-"
>Right hand reaching up and into his vest, a small familiar tin is pulled out and stared at, then tossed onto the table.
"Right here. Hmph, canned fish. Little disappointing but better than leaving it to who knows what end. In any case there isn't time to spare when trying to snag a single object, especially one that heavy, from a catastrophic mess."
>Setting the revolver down long ways on the box and tilting it to make a display, he shrugs.
"Nah, just need above average strength and a bit of training to deal with the recoil. It's roughly equivalent to the Forty-Four Super Magnum or the Forty-Five Ultra and far less horrible than my own wrist destroyer. If those are powerful wildcat cartridges, this is an.. Angry Equine. I hate my life or lack thereof."
>Dying in every possible way internally and externally, the gestalt sighs in unintentional pun agony.
"So what's your flavor? Gun wise I mean, I can give most anything a tuneup, but if you want a beer I've got pretty much everything on tap."

>>350664
>Waving his discontent away with the free hand, Anon turns the weapon over to showcase the diamondine.
"Close enough but doesn't have the raw penetration. Her Enchains are mostly offensive rather than defensive from what I can tell. Skin, flesh, and bone are roughly the equivalent to standard train armor. A solid hit to her skull would probably stun for a bit, two or three might make her pass out but for a few seconds."
>Shaking his head quickly, the gestalt spins the box around to display it more thoroughly.
"Not offended at all, and don't put yourself that far behind. Your teacher probably.. nnnnnevermind. Ahem, moving on. To be fair, what I can do is limited by collective human capabilities, knowledge, and influences. I can shove five weapons together like they were in a furnace, separate them into a single structural unit, 'mill' specific components apart from the mass, and layer them with early diamondine which by the way is a fucking nightmare of a material. As for why ranged weapons are preferred, humans are physically weak in comparison to most mammals, even ones half their size. so they have to make up for it with greater cunning. I'm not excluded from that."
>Tipping the bottle up for a slow drink, Anonymous lifts his shoulders before clasping the drink in both hands.
"Wish I could have, but not even close. The process was more like heat welding for me, took a few dozen attempts to stabilize the result and I ended up slagging about half each weapon."

>Analyzing the scientific processes used, Anon's description was a loose, painfully crude attempt at melding similar alloys together via artificial electromagnetic heating states, which did show as visual inconsistencies; there was no spalling or significant enough colorations to indicate structural weaknesses.
>Studying the layers of diamondine, they'd also been subjected to the same configuration except at much higher temperatures, and had been more far more carefully applied, fully nullifying the natural entropic decay states most of Tallus was known for.
>The modification of a damaged Sunstone into a functional holosight was equally successful: a single thin layering of programmed Plasma had been carefully trapped within sheets of arcane metamaterials, enough to contain the energies while allowing it to function as a targeting system without blinding the user.
>Or causing unstable reactions.
>Nearly opposite even the most basic Empire bio-crystaltech, the merging of human electronics with a semi-solid state Vapor-Marking crystal was less refined and more a brute force approach: instead of fluorescing a target indefinitely the intended effect would do so temporarily.
>Humans had little knowledge and experience with magical, or even pseudo-magical, resonances, which showed.
>Painfully.

"Funnily enough, Kraut's later abilities and knowledge allowed me to use a threadbare version of 'shaping' materials like he'd do with Magitek. Real difference between that and my earlier attempts is Magitek functions on willpower, 'pushing' material into 'fitting' a predetermined schematic or design."
>Swishing the bottle around several times, Anon frowns.
"Easiest explanation I have. Still, I couldn't rely on that until he'd improved which made my later and now current versions more refined. Now I can do the same with most alloys and composites. Except magical crystallines, most crystalloids, and Eldritch nonsense. I don't understand much about them and for the last I don't want to."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350685
350723
>>350676
>Quickly studying the screens, I manage to figure out how to move Wild.
>At least I hope that I understood the instructions right.
>Letting out a breath, I returned my hands to the tendrils that served as levers for her motion.

"Okay, I think I got it. If you focus on repairing yourself I should be able to keep you moving."
>The hopefully going by unsaid.
>Improvisation is key for a sniper, after all.

>Grimacing at the noise, I gave part of the cabin a quick, and hopefully reassuring, pat.
>Even if she couldn't feel it.
"Safe first, properly fix later. Hopefully we won't need to know how to fix it until we get back to Razorback."

>Releasing the controls for the moment, I brace myself for impact, glancing up at the screens in front of me.
Anonymous
4fc04fa
?
No.350686
7cf61c8ae3de43939fa5c7aa854b9ba4.png

Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350687
351063
>>350683
"Mm, definitely sounds like one. Can't fault me for asking though, eh? Artefacts are always useful to me."
>He paused for a moment.
"Though definitely not something I can share with Razorback, if Hodch's reaction to my Sparkler. It kinda... electrocuted and burned him enough for scarring."
>He grimaced at what an acidic artefact would do to a pony.
>And his legs began aching from the thought.
"Yeah sounds about right. Probably an inexperienced Dutier, but alive long enough to get an actual fucking suit."
>Ivan would give the can a brief glance, before returning his focus onto Anon.

"Most of us used no heavier than forty fives for handguns, so a BFR like that would definitely hurt."
>Ivan felt his pain, if only slightly.
"I'm looking into getting a beefier rifle now that I've got an exoskeleton, something to go with being a walking tank."
>He paused for a moment, before pulling out a bottle of Cossacks from his bag.
"I'm partial to vodka myself, but beer's decent when from Eastern Europe."

>Ivan took his helmet off and idly drank while Anon focused on Aiutante.
>If he was silently going to lose brain cells listening to a not-Valley Girl, he was doing it with high proof alcohol.
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350721
351019
>>350663
>Settling for examining the cooking equipment in detail, Nova's ears flick thoughtfully.
"Biological chemicals? My initial training, pre and post-combat experiences focused on stabilizing a patient, then allowing my auric field to 'restore the individual to their optimal biological standards'. Passively. As for a strict regime I adhere to it rigidly. And yes, I am a hybrid. There is little research done by ourselves.. on ourselves. No Ward suffers from similar afflictions thus it is an individual effort. I may commit to further study when time ceases to be against us."
>Turning about to inspect each sample with a half-scowl, she'd missed the Arcane seepage.
"Magic wands, humph. If only most had not been destroyed or sealed away. Ponies as a whole progress quicker, more ably as well, during peace. War causes severe stagnation and loss of motivation for decades."
>Inspecting the selected vial's contents, Carlos finds it neutral for observational purposes, which the carnelian Ward leans forwards to sniff at.
"I would agree to that as most eggs are considered an exceptional food source. Dragons, drakes, and others are utterly dismissive of ones that are not fertilized, but acquiring such would be sporadic at best. I-"
>Pausing to glance at each vial, Nova Flicker's head tilts, snout twitching several times.
"I have some knowledge of arcane infusion efforts, lesser than that one, though rarely does a patient mutate to such a degree in response. It is possible, yes. Tipper has treated several cases but her records do not show a similar instance. If time permits I conduct a thorough examination. And I shall indeed call upon you, decor is essential though I've little knowledge what humans find calming or tasteful."

>Following after Juan, stopping to close the Taco Loco and front door behind her, she checks on each of the other patients, starting with the two severely injured and still unconscious Pred-Elk.
"A momarent please."
>Making a series of notes on further treatmarent, she moves onto a pair of newly arrived humans, one with a sturdy cotton sling, the other asleep.
"Excellent progress, the fracture should be set and partially healed by dusk. You may perform light duties with your good arm until fully healed in three nights. As for your friend: the poison's effects were quick and present no long term harm. Ask him to perform a self check for nausea and vertigo when he wakes. If he experiences both tell him to take the third dose of Detox and keep another on hand. If neither occur then he is discharged at his own will."

>Coming face to face with a formerly sleeping aquamarine Crystal mare, bandages scattered across her coat and chin resting on the bed's frame, Nova returns the neon lime eyes' hostility with equal force.
"I am not my dam, and I can be much worse. Will you comply or must I force you to drink a bottle of each provided alchemical?"
>As the older mare huffs in mock-defiance before nodding, the Ward checks off several notations while floating several bottles from underneath the bed to her, then places the clipboard back.
"Excellent. Restrict yourself to one round within the Fortress every two hours, Miss Ametrina. You only have visiting privileges so I suggest not making more enemies. But, should I hear of one more hostile incident to pony, human, gryphon, minotaur, or other... I will most certainly enjoy the consequences."

>Leaving the regal Crystal mare staring on confusedly with a hint of fear, Nova slides towards the first operating room, poking her head in to move the diagnostic plate out and above her head.
>Closing the door and quietly striding to Carlos, the Ward nods towards the aquamarine pony glowering at ten elixir bottles next to her.
"A high noble from the Empire. Xenophobic, verbally abusive and demarending even though she only speaks in Kingdom dialect, standoffish.. a severe annoyance in sum. Pay her no attention if possible. I would like to discharge her but it will take time to locate her family or herd."

"Now then, a warning: Lejura likes to play 'games' which involve hoof to hoof, or hoof to hand contact. For the most part it is harmless enjoymarent but she will stray into outright lewdity or even degeneracy if given a chance. A mild verbal threat is sufficient to dissuade the first, the second is best ignored."
>Taking a deep inhale, Nova settles into a mildly dispassionate face at Operating Room #2, pushing it open and striding in with the spell held aloft.
>Inviting Carlos inside, then closing once he'd stepped past a mark, the most physically expressive Saddle Arabian he'd seen so far lies uncovered on the operating table, head facing the door, a thick blue canvas sheet underneath.
>Head lifting, the left ear twitches up at the human's entrance, a dull white bandage covering from center down to her skull near the eye sharpening in focus, a soft amber which the Doctor knew to be either a coastal or southern coloration.
>Her right ear was likewise untouched, and featured a tiny tuft on the tip which was more common to coastal lineages.
>The mane was barely starting to regrow, a reddish-gold in color, while two long wound pads were firmly affixed down to her saddle.
>Erratic rows of large and medium wound pads secured by white tape cross the mare's entire saddle, chest, barrel, and atop her rear, strong bright red-green hues of mixed burn and wound gel seeping through.
>Unusually her long tail was untouched, which flicked once in a curious motion.
>The left foreleg and both rear legs were firmly splinted, but instead of using wood these were stainless steel, the internals a series of thick, permeable silk braces and pads.
>Worse were the the rear legs: the splints had been braced together using U-shape joints melded onto solid stainless square bar stock, preventing any possible movemarent.
>Initial prognosis: bad.

>Smiling in hesitant greeting, the silver mare's nose wiggles in discreetly inquisitive fashion.
"Another doctor for me, Kesh Nova?"
"If you play by my rules, yes."
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350723
350740
>>350685
>Solidifying the tendrils into a more comfortable stance by bracing their remaining lengths on the floor, an unnerving ten meters of steel each, Wild's cartoon image flickers across several miniscreens as if inspecting herself.
"Or not moving."
>Despite knowing her internal hull was in acceptable shape, the thin layer of steel and whatever cushioned was behind it didn't make a comforting sound.
>The caricature pops onto the right screen's lower section to nod, then immediately displaces elsewhere.
>Busier than a bee and flightier than a cat in a room filled with rocking chairs.

>Intermittent patterns of welding, metal sheets applied, more welds, and peculiar cracking noises from above continue for the next twenty seconds from a simple timer on the right screen's center, the view of Wild's heavily damaged arms remaining still until 0 is reached.
>For a split-second everything seems fine.. until the screen turns sideways.
>More correctly, the entire cabin pitches hard right while your hold on the pilot sticks is broken, the previously offending and still damaged medical tendrils lashing out from above to try securing you onto the crash couch.
"SEVERE IMPACT, GRAB ON TO ANYTHING!"
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <MT #1: Clutch
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <MT #2: Clutch

[1d6 = 2] <Force
[1d90 = 3] <Angle

>Wild's right arm is thrown outwards, metal grinding and snapping throughout her structure as she punches towards the sand.
"Might lose an arm-"
[1d6 = 5] <E.Counter
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Heavyweight
>vs:
[1d6 = 6] <Kiloton Force
[1d80 = 35] <Angle
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350737
350739
>>350679
"I'm not bad with it either, though... Definitely not going to build a near two thousand plus ton destroyer by my damn self. That takes a fully equipped dockyard and hundreds of workers."
>Bubba at the very least understood what he meant.
>Drunken Southerners are much less articulate and the Engineer was just fucking up words.
"At the very least it'd be a little place to relax without worrying about drowning. Unless someone tips the boat over."
>He had to start small, after all.

>Bubba wouldn't be able to help staring as he tried figuring out what in God's, or a lack of, name this fucking thing was.
>He leaned over to mutter at the Engineer.
"This thing is one of the reasons we have the fucking "uncanny valley" for. If it wasn't in Razorback I would have a good urge to put a few bullets in it."
>He still did but he'd give it the benefit of the doubt. For now.

[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <Silver US Dollar Stash
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Bat(Cave)!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350739
350741
>>350737
"There's ducks all over for boat repair. Last I remember Shanis started building one on her island but right now-"
>Taking a couple steps backwards to land his ass on the Batcave's wall, the Engineer steadies himself, blinking once, hard, to clear his vision.
"The demi-sentient's down, hasn't responded to me once. That is not a friendly Bubba."

>The bundles approximating a head shifts direction from the Pagoda to the Library, then the entire creature compresses into a half-sphere sphere, remaining still for several seconds.
>Rippling outwards from itself into a large wolf like figure, the being lowers its head, lifting one leg to inspect it, then the other.
>Standing up straight the creature nods, then hunches low and creeps towards the Library.

>Snarling under his breath, the unicorn's left eye snaps at you while his horn alights in subdued black, air around it crackling.
"Shifter like I said, not bucking friendly! Put your rifle on my horn, I'll overcharge it-"
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <M.Casting: Imbue
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350740
350745
>>350723
"I'll just think of it as driving a walking tank. Even if I've never been inside one."
>The most advanced thing I've driven before was a tractor but that's basically the same thing.
"... Which you basically are."

>Thinking quickly, I reach up to help the once privacy invading tendrils secure myself.
>Mostly.
[1d6 = 5] <B. Reaction Speed
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <B. Assault
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]

[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Russian Ruble Stash
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350741
350749
>>350739
"Then its fair to attempt to blast its ass off onto the other side of the Fortress, eh?"
>Bubba thought for a second, before recalling what Silver did to him, and knelt down.
"With the way that horn's fucking glowing, I'd rather try something else."
>He summoned forth the shoulder mounted launcher he was graced with, shouldering it.
"I'll try this instead."
>He said, putting the cannon up against the unicorn's horn.
"Back blast clear."
>Aiming down its sights, he lined up the creature before firing with acceptable lead time.
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15] <Evolving Ability: Burst Shell
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10] <Bleeding
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350745
350747
>>350740
>Having no time to respond, both central cabin screens flicker off on the impact though Wild does manage to get out a strained electronic curse.
"FUCKING NIGGERS-"
>Snatching the medical tendrils faster than they were able to react, your left hand takes a death grip close to the first one's middle sections subsequently denting it while your right hand crushes the second one in dead center, though it doesn't go limp like a certain pegasus stallion does after the fifth time.
>Forcing the tendrils directly into your stomach and clutching them for dear life using near-berserker strength you barely knew existed, the pair secure you onto the crash couch.

>Externally you see Wild's entire body twist right, her right arm smashing into sand that spreads the impact from her her armored fist's collision.
>Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for you, the Eldritch-Android's weight coincides with a long, strained groan of metal against her internal Tryptaran mass which composes a symphony akin to some wholly metallic monster's howl.
>Witnessing your daughteru's legs shoved out from underneath her, the front screens show her rolling from a 35 degree angle, to upside down, and finally crashing onto her left side in a trio of soft thumps, arm, midsection, and leg sinking into sand.
>Secured as you were to the crash couch with a burning stranglehold, the internal screens and unseen lights from above flicker once before cutting out.

>While the left leaning position was a tad uncomfortable, it didn't sound like Wild had suffered damage. At all.
>Tentatively coiling around your waist to act as impromptu seatbelts, the ends of both medical tendrils emit a small click, dim red lights from the pair angling forwards at the blackened screens.
"What. Was. That. Attempting diagnostic and malfunction checks-"
[1d6 = 1] <Damaged Sensory Node #1: Processing Recovery
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Arcanum Sensors Array
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350747
350752
>>350745
>Gritting my teeth, I hiss out my own, decidedly non-electronic, swearing.
"гребаная сука!"
>Firmly tugging the tendrils down to me, I don't notice as I almost destroy one of them, adrenaline coursing through me as I secure myself just in time.

>As Wild's torn from her brace, I can only imagine how fucked I would be if I hadn't been quick enough in securing myself down.
>"I'm going to need a HEAVY drink after this!"
>Keeping my head from bashing against the interior was a simple matter now due to the secure straps of her tendrils, preventing me from breaking my neck.
>Or anything else.

"I don't have a fucking clue."
>I groan and slump down, rubbing my face as I lie uncomfortably against her interior.
"Thank fuck, it sounds like you didn't take any more damage to yourself."
>Even if I couldn't see outside, the creaking of her chassis was no worse.
Razorback Fortress: That Fucking Skinwalker from Luna's Village
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350749
350750
>>350741
>The Engineer makes no comment as an otherwise normal earth pony mare's weight lands on your right shoulder, quickly abating to a reasonable level like Malyne or a pegasus filly.
>Whatever the Engineer's spiraled horn was supposed to enact performs, simultaneously, the worst and best possible scenarios:
>Cracking directly into the Void spectrums of Tallus, a series of physical fractures make contact with the Construct cannon's tip, warped starbursts of purple, red, blue, and black swarm down the rifled barrel.
>Feeling, sensing, hearing, even TASTING the lone Shredder-type shell absorbing vast amounts of raw and overcharged Void energies, the unicorn collapses straight down.
>Razorback Engineer: UNCONSCIOUS!

>At the same time his body hits the ground, the now multi-colored orange Shredder shell is ejected forwards from an arcane-catalyzed chemical fusion reaction.
[1d6 = 5] <Bubba: Data Retrieval
>The Construct cannon's weight disappears off your shoulder at the same time the wolf-like creature's midsection erupts in a profusion of orange shards, ripples of screaming Void energies visibly denting and tearing realspace apart.
>Cascades of molten semi-materials burn dozens of hotly glowing trails towards the east, the sound coming out as the loud cackling of a demigod.

>?????: 39/???, STUNNED, SEVERE SHOCK, SEVERE BLEEDING!
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350750
350857
>>350749
>Bubba ignored the collapsing unicorn for a brief moment, watching as the creature is hit almost immediately after pulling the trigger.
>Letting out a low whistle, he glanced down, putting a hand against the Engineer's neck, briefly confirming a pulse before unslinging his rifle.
>Even if he killed it immediately, there might be a friend or two of it deciding to appear.
"Definitely not fucking complaining about that goddamn effect, Silver."
>Staying crouched next to the unicorn, he made sure his rifle was loaded, keeping his gaze on his target.
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350752
350753
>>350747
>Safe for the moment, and lacking enough existential dread to feel.. different, Wild's cartoon self pulls herself up into the right screen's lower edge, both antennae twitching in equine motions.
>Right hand lifting to wave at the tendrils holding you into the couch, they don't react or move.
>A thoroughly relieved sigh transmits from one functional speaker above while her mini scratches above the single 'eye'.
"No injuries detected from you or across me, mom. My secondary processing node is experiencing vertigo. I think. Can't connect to it. Might take some t-"
>Right, above, and down, something expensive sounding blows apart, small hisses of metal slag meeting salt water accompanying the noise.
"...does this happen every time I think or say something? Fuck me sideways. Wait, am I sideways?"
>That was definitely either 20% of Novus talking, or maybe Caliya though you couldn't recall hearing him swear out loud.
>Physically leaning into the screen and 'looking' down, the caricature's antennae flatten in distinct equine motions.
"Yes, I'm sideways. Weird, didn't think I could feel this.. unable to calculate spatial direction right now, and I can't connect to main nodes yet. Attempting to repair my primary until it reboots-"
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair

>The two dim red lights brighten several degrees, showing the rest of the cabin to be surprisingly intact.
>The lockers hadn't opened, nor were the viewing screens damaged, and while the roughly 80 angle was annoying, at least the couch was comfortable.
>And the medical implements weren't trying to make contact with your [REDACTED] or [REDACTED].
>After a few seconds, the Puff Skipper emits a curious sounding huff-purr.

"Try to force me into a kneeling position. Er, pull the control sticks hard right and push forwards a couple inches. I'll do what I can to restore my right arm."
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #8
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350753
350859
>>350752
"All I took was just some whiplash from the sudden roll."
>Luckily nothing serious, I just needed a brief moment to reorient myself.
>And ignore the uncomfortable position.
"Sideways is a lot better than in pieces, Wild."
>Managing to sit up, I push myself back up onto the couch enough to not fall over when she gets up.

>Glancing down at the pocket the puff was in, I gave it a soft pat before I grabbed at her controls.
"Can do."
>It was easy enough to follow.
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] >B. Riposte
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.350854
350855 350862
large.png
>>350674

"Razorback has had a history of being assaulted from both without and within, we learned the hard way."
>Lont said as he rubbed Nao's chin, recalling how Stalliongrad besieged them. And how that rogue fragment of the Celestia led them.
>How long ago was that? Two, three years now? So much has happened between than and now that his sense of time has been distorted. Or perhaps this was the work of the world on his mind.

>He continued to pet and stroke the content seal, giving her long strokes across her blubbery and friendly torpedo shaped body.
>How did she get here he could not say but he was happy she was here.
>"No doubt a big hit among the foals here."
>The Operator thought to himself as he surveyed the evidence of pony activity around the seal.
>His nose wrinkled at the stench of Psion activity.

>Finishing his indulgence, Lont decided he needed more of this seal and so he carefully scooped her up from her resting place and carried her, cradled in his arms.
>He got close to Farezith as to offer the seal snoot to her for her to boop.
"Razorback has that quality, all manner of people and things wind up in this eclectic place. Our patchy history and nature must be appealing to all manner of rogue and exotic beings. We humans certainly fit the bill."
>He stood up and began for the Clinic.
"Speaking of rogues, lets put Tacit to bed. He will be in the good care of Tipsy's hooves."

>He walked with the seal still cradled in his arms and let his eyes wondered.
>Why was it so quiet? Where had everyone gone? Asleep? An operation? Or...
>His shoulders raised slightly at the thought that he may, through terrible timing, brought Tacit to an active danger zone.
>"No, there would be more shouting and gunfire. There must be a better explanation, a more mundane one at that."
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.350855
350862
>>350854
[1d6 = 6]
Razorback Fortress: That Fucking Skinwalker from Luna's Village
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350857
350858
>>350750
>Placing your hand on the knocked out and now drooling Engineer's neck, his pulse was strong, having a rhythm of 2.5 per second..
>For a unicorn that couldn't deal with liquor.
>OR his own fucking magic.

>Spotting the creature's spasms in the bright red Moon light, the limbs deform into large fibrous bundles again, central body covered in STILL raging purple, red, green, and black starbursts common to using Void energies.
>?????: 127/??? HP, STUNNED, SEVERE SHOCK, SEVERE BLEEDING!

>Now returned to to what was probably its original form, the creature's pseudo-body jerks about on the cold ground numerous times, distorting in (probably) agonized unconscious spasms.
>It reminded you of something around the first six months Razorback Company was on this world.. but you couldn't recall what, exactly.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350858
350863
>>350857
"He'll be fine."
>Probably.

>Shaking his head, Bubba peered through the scope on his rifle, watching it as he frowns.
"Fucking skinwalker looking ass."
>Studying it for a moment, he tries recalling what he was being reminded of.
[1d3+1 = (2+1) = 3] >Lore: Razorback, Secuphyte
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350859
350860
>>350753
>Climbing back on the right screen once more, mini-Wild stares for a few moments, a speaker to your right emitting a 'blyat' sound.
>Or was that a 'blat' sound?
"Whiplash is better than suffered a skull or spinal injury. ..wait, a whiplash is a spinal injury! How bad is it? Do you require assistance?"
>The 'medical' tendrils remain still where they are, though one turns to examine your neck and head briefly, red light changing from medium to bright.
>Returning to its position at the screen, the cartoon's antennae flatten.
"That is true mom, but I didn't know that I could roll like that without severe damage. My exterior armor, exterior hull, and internal hull should have been too thin to take drastic evasive maneuvers such as that. Or mareneuvers."
>Accompanied by the satisfying noises of metal being properly affixed and welded together from above, the caricature Wild Ride rubs her 'chin' with an armored hand.
"Either way I didn't lose my arm, which as of right now is approximately one-third repaired. Internally, not externally, that will take a while. That gives me an idea, attempting to restore my primary self-repair system-"
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #8

>Making a (possibly?) confused purr-snort, the Puff Skipper wiggles a bit before calming.
>Sounded more like a cat mixed something else rather than a sea creature, really.

>Taking hold of the sticks and monitoring the right screen closely, there was enough feedback resistance that you realized these controls were directly tied to her drive and motivator systems.
>Similar to a human, you realize.
>Forcing the Eldritch-Android abomidaughteru's bulk upwards, her left leg contracts while the same side's arm pushes outwards, her internal components strain at the motions though don't give out. Or explode.
>The cabin's rotation turns from an 80 degree leaning angle to near-netural, Wild's frame bending forwards and standing up in a series of minorly stressed metallic groans.
>Noting the closer distance to the shore, Wild's fat roll from the wave had knocked her to within barely 10M under the water's surface.
"Mom, I've analyzed the first tidal wave: I am far too tall and close to the shore to avoid a second's undertow and overtow. Direct me into the ocean deeper, should be able to avoid damage at a depth of at least eighty meters. Addendum: hermetic seals of the central cabin are capable of sustained depth up to one-hundred and fifty meters. Will continue scanning for close range organics-"
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Arcanum Sensors Array
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350860
350868
>>350859
"I'm fine. Just needed a moment to orient myself. Whiplash is probably not the word for it."
>My 1930s upbringing is showing again.
"What I can tell is that you got lucky, Wild. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."
>Or pony, considering where we are.
>Thank fuck the Puff Skipper didn't blow up my chest.

>Letting out a deep breath, I nod and direct her large body back deeper into the ocean.
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] >B. Riposte
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
Razorback Fortress :The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350862
351051
>>350854
>>350855
>Thinking on the matter, that specific event was a little under one and a half years prior to now.

>Squishy, comfortable, and lightweight enough to be counted among the numerous older colts and fillies of Razorback's marefriends, the seal continues to sleep.
>The Matron however raises her eyebrows, at first skeptical, then her expression eases into distinct pleasure.
"Then the arrival of one is to be expected given your Company's existence. Jealous as I am-"
>Offering you a crisply non-threatening smile and snout wiggle.
"Doubtless they will make paths in time to the Conclaves. A blessing they are from Sea to Land. Shame that the Eggs we made were so few, I would of enjoyed hundreds dedicated to the Colonies."
>Gently pressing her snout against the pinniped's briefly, Farezith leans back, her body language expressing contentmarent.
"As cool and soft the traditions said to be. A blessing they are, be of care to her. And yes, to the...."
>Blanking out for several momarents, the visual atrocity stares straight ahead.
>Blinking once, then taking solidly ringing steps after you, Farezith's tone becomes severely inquisitive and a bit irritated.
"You can only be speaking of the Honor Guard doctor whom twenty-nine foals were birthed from. She is known to the Conclaves some as a renowned doctor, more so as the dam of a young and highly respected Ward, but is abhorred amongst us for having nearly twenty stallions throughout her life. At the least of time she may no longer be pregnant each year, else what atrocities would occur be best left to degenerate imaginations and filly dreams."

>More irate from tradition than angry at the unnatural circumstances, the Matron continues with you to the Clinic.
>Cracking open the sealed door and walking in, you're treated to three humans in stasis immediately to the right, to the left Tipper's couch was clear though her desk now was covered in dozens of elixir bottles.
>Two Pred-Elk on the first pair of east side beds, the first covered with a thin blue blanket and missing a horn, the second laden with bandages and surrounded by a thick white sheet, contrasted with two humans opposite them, one with an arm sling staring at the ceiling while the other was face flat and snoring.
>Close to Operating Room #1 on the east side was.. Elusine Ametrina, the regal mare currently doing her best to down a wide selection of alchemical mixtures, her face expressing a hint of pride.
>Right neon lime eye rotating to stare at you, she blinks once, then returns to the task defeatedly.
>Probably Nova Flicker's hoofiwork.
>In the rear, Operating Room #1 door on the left was marked as 'Closed - Patient Recuperating', while #2, inhabited by Lejura, carried numerous languages stating 'Closed - Operation Underway'.

>Scrutinizing the Canterlot-styled clinic several times, the eye searing Matron lifts her nose high to take a deep sniff while still lofting Tacit directly above her.
>Exhaling slowly with a firm sigh, Farezith scrunches in a sincerely apologetic expression.
"Feels the same as my own tent in the Conclave: ever present with wounded, injured, ill. Differences are the unusual scents of strong elixirs, something from a deep woodland, and.. and there is a tinge of aridness here, desperate. Familiar I am not with the taste. To where shall I place Lord Tacit?"

>Secret Faction unlocked: Seal Colony Traders
Razorback Fortress: That Fucking Skinwalker from Luna's Village
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350863
350869
>>350858
>Still twitching and doing little more than 'leaking' threads of whatever it's body was comprised of into the air, the creature's spasms continue, the Void starbursts beginning to fade.
>?????, 137/??? HP, SEVERE SHOCK, SEVERE BLEEDING!

>Thinking back on the descriptions of unusual creatures Razorback had encountered, one in particular, that being around six months after Razorback arrived, sticks in your mind:
>A mission to Luna's Memorial Village, long a resting place for armor, weapons, relics, enchantmarents, medals, and other objects from those dedicated to the Nightmare throughout history, had been caught off guard.
>Thousands of relics from the truly archaic Dusk Striders, to Discordite batponies, up to more recent 29,930's Starborn had been securely stored there as both a museum and being in the middle of nowhere to prevent tampering.
>The task that team had been given was to destroy a presumed Revenant, not a Spectral however, that had either been unsealed or released by a psionic Watch Guard prisoner, though there was no confirmation that a psion was responsible.
>During a search of the burned down Memorial Village, the team located hundreds of executed Watch Guard and several Tower Guard, though under the accord Princess Luna signed with them, all were to keep their weapons, armor, and other kit.
>Reports from three Operators indicated that whatever had executed the earth ponies did so with extreme strength and was able to both pierce and slash through their Stalliongrad armors with ease; no metals or materials were located on the bodies of the deceased.
>Further investigation was interrupted by the appearance of a pre-Modern Naghtmare, a Crystal pony named Flowing Spark that caused some injuries, yet was quickly downed in under two minutes and negated as a threat.
>The Operation was listed as a partial success since Mike Pikeman did not deliver his own report, and all of the objects secured by Operators were returned to Princess Luna.
>No Revenant or traces were not found by numerous Lunar teams that began conducting their investigation immediately after Razorback, and was still listed as 'Unsolved' in Naliyna's archives.

>A flailing series of bundles that had been one of the fore legs eventually stops, twisting around in a U-shape to inspect the creature's central body.
[1d6 = 4] <???
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350868
350870
>>350860
"Understood mom, beginning diagnostics."
>Releasing their grasp around your waist a few moments after the cabin is righted, the tendrils swivel to examine each other.
>Ceasing their inspection, Righty emits a strained electronic beep while Lefty emits a short noise of alarm.
"I don't understand luck, mom. 'Luck' is listed in my databanks as the following: theoretical, spiritual, hypothetical, conceptual, and uncoordinated concepts. Addendum: I will require extensive repairs to my visual and biological monitoring systems in order to examine an equine's mouth cavity."
>That was clearly something Novus would have said..
"Anomalous damage located to central cabin right medical implement, repairing now."
>Righty coils itself down onto the floor below you in a circular pattern, its opposite initiating repairs with a thin, tiny beam of red light.
[1d6 = 6] <CC-MT #2: Non-Biological Repair Mode

>Forcing through the resistance from both control sticks, Wild's frame turns right in five subdued stomps, both screens facing the ocean showing a host of brightly colored offshore plants, most of which were common seagrass along with other, almost crystalline shaped sea flora.
>Above, small lines ash and minor debris were still in view, tiny swells carrying the churn towards the shore.
>Far above and to the right you could now see the twenty artificial clouds spreading apart, three from east and west peeling off and beginning to run near-parallel to the shoreline.
>Ten however continue straight north, the clouds indicating where each aircraft were expanding into larger, puffy versions.
>Lagging behind, the single large imprint of the giant vessel had come into view, diving below the clouds:
>Between the six unusual wings and across the heavy semi-organic angled hull, it was, from what you could tell, ejecting thin jets of liquid, or possibly vapor, from the rear surfaces.
>Blacked out apertures, square inlets, long tubes resembling heavy cannons, and numerous barrels that could be anywhere from 3CM to 20CM studded much of the second to fourth hull sections.
>The heavy red light streaming down from the Moon glinted off its surface, giving it a sheen that looked as if it had been made entirely from pre-Late Dynasty silverine yet was far more reflective, appearing more like an organic metal than a composite.

>Keeping hold of the controls, your steady course sends Wild deeper into the ocean to reach the first layer of sparse vegetation, tiny boulders, patches of smooth stone, and sand making a simple path through.
>Directing her down to 30M, 40M, 50M, then 60M, the cabin's internal pressure remains steadily, your ears picking out a low pitched, steady sound of air filtration into he cabin.
>At least that wouldn't be a problem.
>Noting the vegetation lower than 80M was a bit thicker and taller something Steel Blitz probably would have mocked, there wasn't enough Moon light to see through and the screens were starting to darken.
>Recalling six of the tiny screens, two were linked to a Forward Observational Heavy Light, two more linked to a Forward Observational Light, and the last two linked to a Forward Observational Fog Light, though the right side of each had been listed as 'Offline'.
>There were also six listed as Rear versions, though only the left Heavy Light and right Fog Light had been destroyed.

"Update: primary repair system node number one restored by eighteen-point-one percent. Secondary update: I have gained access to limited data on esoteric metallurgy studies. Attempting to repair primary repair system node two, also rebooting my now-least damaged sensory node-"
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #8

[1d6 = 3] <Damaged Sensory Node #2: Reboot Phase
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350869
350871
>>350863
>Recalling the after action report, Bubba let out a grimace and decided that it was best to put this skinwalker down before it could close the distance to him.
>Or spot him, if at all possible.
"Fucking skinwalkers, dealt with enough of them back fucking home."
>Readying his rifle, he aimed for a moment before pulling the trigger.
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] >E. Battle Rifles
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350870
350873
>>350868
>I glance down at the tendrils, raising an eyebrow at the crushed one, confused when it happened.
>Odd.
"Luck isn't something anyone can measure except as "more or less" than someone else. Its a concept that exists but can't really be seen."
>I shift to get comfortable.
"It can be as simple as finding a hundred ruble bill on the ground, or having a bullet go through your head cover without hitting you. In our case, we're leaning towards the latter type."
>I stare flatly at the screen.
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth is an old saying that farmers use a lot."
>A brief pause.
"Also I doubt that many ponies want tendrils being shoved down their throats."

>Frowning at the sudden shift in motion, I watch the group of fake clouds for a moment, before turning back towards the front of Wild.
"Half of the artificial clouds altered course and are now running parallel to shore. The large vessel has also dipped below the cloud layer."

"I don't like how dark it is down here. Let me know, if you can, when something starts moving towards us. I don't want to turn on your lights until its necessary. It'll just attract attention."
>Though I don't know if they can be seen from the surface.
>Taking note of the locations of the lights, I keep them in mind.
"Hopefully the plants help mask us from the Constructs."
Razorback Fortress: That Fucking Skinwalker from Luna's Village
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350871
350872
>>350869
>Holding the kneeling position fairly still, then lining up the target's ill-defined form, you take a deep breath and slowly squeeze the trigger..
>Minorly surprising yourself at the bolt slamming back, brass shell being ejected right, and recoil fanning into your shoulder, the 168-grain's path streaks through the air, impacting on the semi-solid form right and down from center mass.
>Rolled onto it's other side, the sensory bundle that had been moving slaps into solid ground, muted from the distance.

>Figuratively wincing at the loud report invading your ears, the few still-intact bundles flop about until emitting multiple long, high pitched exhales, lying still as the creature appears to give up.
>?????: 171/??? HP, SEVERE SHOCK, EXTREME BLEEDING!
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350872
350877
>>350871
>Once he lines his sights back up onto the creature, he grumbled softly when it went still.
>Watching it for a moment, he decided to not take any chances and put another round into it.
>He knew better than to trust a skinwalker to just lie there and die.

>Though he hasn't hit one center mass with a rocket before, either.
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] >E. Battle Rifle.
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350873
350876
>>350870
>Eyeing the right medical implement, several pins and needles throughout your right hand remember the frenzied grab while you don't.
>But Pepper Midge Farms does!
>Watching the repair process, Lefty smoothly restores half of the overlapping steel plates on Righty, pulling out dents to their normal curves, pushing in black leaking Tryptaran mass, then sealing said mass within, lastly spot welding a thin line of.. rainbow colored gelatin.
>Which smelled like flowers.
>Certainly not the strangest component you'd seen in Wild, but one of the more niche ones.
[1d6 = 4] <CC-MT #2: Non-Biological Repair Mode
"Are you referring to possibilities, probabilities, and potentials of 'random chance' aiding you then? I'm not sure what farming has to do with the topic but if so I.. have to agree. Circumstances have been extremely suboptimal since reaching the Construct Assault Lander vessel."
>Climbing back onto the screen, mini-Wild's central eye focuses on you once, twice, three times, then mutters in a flat tone from the overhead speakers while descending down to do whatever she was focusing on.
"How would you know."
>Definitely not a question.
>Also not something you, Kraut, Snakebite, Novus, or Caliya would have said in the best or worst of times.

"We should not be affected by undertow here."
>The secret 'I hope' was confirmed by a slight twitch in both screens.
"Understood, however I am incapable of reviewing recordings and I do not have the processing capability at current to access stored data without direct connections."
>Coming to a subtle full stop, Wild's forward cameras angle upwards, the views on screen showing the formations spreading out in a 180 degree half-circle, all of which beginning to accelerate as the clouds behind them were now less cohesive.
>The large vessel retains its course straight north, continuing to spray substances, possibly singular.
"Update One: primary repair system node two online at eleven-point-eight percent of optimal capacity. Update Two: secondary sensory node online, attempting to restore basic functionality to it and repairing leg motivator damage-"
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair

[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #8

>Zooming her left camera out and angling it upwards for the same side's screen, the right screen rotates downwards 10 degrees into the somewhat murky vegetation.
"Accessing.. complete, analyzing data.. complete. All previous scans indicate no low-value sentient life signs. Accessing video feed.. below eighty hundred meters I estimate a brightness value of twenty-eight which would be a one hundred meter visual radius."

"Possible. I will continue searching for potential hostiles within vicinity and dedicate one node to analyzing local flora. What are the surface conditions like?"
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Arcanum Sensors Array
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350876
350880
>>350873
>Poor thing, the tidal wave must have somehow damaged it.
>And I must've hit my hand on something.
>Eyeing the process for a moment, I just shrugged.
>At least it smelled nice.
"In a sense, yes. A brief gust of wind causing a bullet to stay off of its path just enough, for example."
>Rolling my eyes, I had to remember she wasn't even 'born' a day ago.
"Farmers use horses to assist in farming. The saying came back from before mechanization of it began."
>Watching the ships move, I relay what they're doing to Wild, letting her know.

"Unfortunately all it takes is one big, pissed off creature you can't detect. I don't know what exactly is in these waters and I don't want to find out."
>Looking back up towards the surface, I concentrate now that I'm not moving her.
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
Razorback Fortress: That Fucking Skinwalker from Luna's Village
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350877
350879
>>350872
>Obviously hearing the shell and first shot, nearby P.U.P.S. pseudo-turrets near the Library, Arena, and east side of the Clinic begin swiveling their top section towards the commotion.
[1d6 = 2] <#1
[1d6 = 2] <#2
[1d6 = 4] <#3
[1d6 = 6] <#4
[1d6 = 5] <#5
[1d6 = 4] <#6
>A brief message comes through your radio, one of Razorback's Veteran cadre speaking in a mild Russian accent followed by a second heavier one, third a Central European voice, fourth one of the semi-American northerners, last a grim EurAsian.
*"Library east tower, where target? I no see enemy-"*
*"Library west tower. Pagoda, south of, see Void scratches on ground fading-"*
*"Arena tower south, anyone got eyes on? Shot's northeast of us here."*
*"Pegasus Tower north here. Confirm Void usage: unicorn, human, other?"*
*"Guard encampmarent tower north here, only unicorns in range of the Pagoda would be Tipper and Nova, Clinic door is closed. Haven't seen Hodch or Denra, all Lunars should be on the walls."*
>Seems Bren's 2 month long project was actually starting to pay off, although they'd been paying more attention to the sky than the ground.

>Lining up once more and stroking the trigger again, this one is less surprising, except your aim wasn't dead on target:
>Striking a bit high and left off center on the mostly flattened mass three medium bundles shear off, thrown from the body to spasm erratically.
>What's left of the creature seizures, the bundles still connecting twitching and curling into a three-quarter circle.
>?????: 214/??? HP, SEVERE SHOCK, EXTREME BLEEDING!
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350879
350881
>>350877
>Seeing where his shots were landing, Bubba let out a soft swear as he got on the ground, deploying his bipod to steady his aiming.
>Ear twitching as his radio crackles, he momentarily hated himself for forgetting to notify the towers about the intruder.
>Pulling it up, he spoke into it calmly.
"This is Bubba, I'm outside Jeff's 'Bat Cave'. Have eyes on one hostile, some shapeshifting creature. Its location is South of the Pagoda, tried heading to the Library. Hit it with a Void charged rocket, unicorn that did so is unconscious but alive. Break."
>He paused for a moment to glance at the Engineer.
"Our train engineer just came back, that's the unicorn. Over."
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350880
350979
>>350876
>Magically, or perhaps technomagically, NOT fucking up, Lefty continues its efforts to restore Righty's terrible misfortune while emitting calm sounding beeps.
[1d6 = 3] <CC-MT #2: Non-Biological Repair Mode

>Deep within Wild's midsection, the lone angry squeak of an Eldritch-Android repair system that would have loved to join its fellows in jolly restoration is heard.
>It falls silent.
>Then the Puff Skipper squeaks a sad noise back.
>She tried.

"Adding your knowledge to Tertiary Data Core Six.. ...complete. If random chance directly equates to 'luck', are you capable of calculating the occurrences or knowing when an event occurs?"
>Mostly off screen, probably doing something useful, mini-Wild looks up, her antennae flick in puzzlement.
"Looking in a gifted equine's mouth is not lucky? I don't understand the context."
>Peering up into herself, the cartoon version stares briefly until returning to her work.
"Unknown aerial assets presumed to be non-hostile at this time. Do you have information on cloud composition or the main aircraft's status? Update: secondary sensor node number two at sixty percent functionality, consolidating prior repair data and cross-referencing my databanks-"
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Sensory Node #2

"Drive and motivator systems in both legs repaired to approximately seventy-one percent. Restoring secondary repair systems.. again."
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #8

"Data processing.. complete. Trace amounts of common metals and minute arcane materials present in deeper vegetation. Large numbers of shelled invertebrates and bivalaves in direct vicinity buried in sand; few are toxic or poisonous. Large numbers of shells in vicinity; small numbers contain minute amounts of arcane materials. They would be too difficult to process without restoration of my primary repair systems. There are approximately.. thirty thousand small piscines one-hundred meters south."
>Pausing for a second to consider what she just said, one of the speakers sighs.
"The common term would be: 'fish'. The local area within five hundred meters is safe from large scale organics. Continuing scans-"
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Arcanum Sensors Array

>Placing the full scrutiny of your non-malfunctioning eyes on the right screen, only two of the smaller western vapor-producing vessels were in view, having accelerated to a speed at least twice that of aircraft you knew could reach.
>Squinting momentarily, they appearing to be mareufacturing, or perhaps manufacturing, rain clouds?
>The much larger one was apparently doing the same though considerably wider, billowing wreaths of vapor and half-liquids spewing outwards.
Razorback Fortress: That Fucking Skinwalker from Luna's Village
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350881
350882
>>350879
*"Library east, no eye yet. Confirm train?"*
*"Library west, no eyes-"*
*"Arena tower south, still turning. Confirmed one of ours Library east, that's our train's Engineer from Canterlot."*
*"Pegasus Tower north, I'm blocked from view. Keep on target, we're deploying outside immediately-"*
*"Guard encampmarent tower north here, nearly in view. Be advised Guard encampmarent tower west's people aren't on station-"*
*"Pegasus Tower south, turret rotating now-"*
>The last voice, one of the clearer speaking Russian Elites, was thoroughly sleep deprived.
*"Arena tower north turning now, be advised we're facing straight west-"*
*"Clinic west tower here, Clinic east is unoccupied, repeat: unoccupied. Top of this damned thing is heavy, needs a better crank system so stand by-"*
[1d6 = 2] <#1
[1d6 = 6] <#2
[1d6 = 2] <#3
[1d6 = 3] <#4
[1d6 = 4] <#5
[1d6 = 6] <#6
[1d6 = 1] <#7
[1d6 = 3] <#8
*"There's five of us in the Library but we can't take shots from here, none of us have suppressors. Not going to wake the fillies and no one's in the Arena either. We're heading to Guard encampmarent west-"*
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Mercenary 1
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Mercenary 2
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <Veteran 1
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Veteran 2
[1d6 = 1] <Rookie 1

>Settling down into a comfortable position and lining sights back onto the creature, the lack of additional radio chatter was probably due to most of Razorback pulling double deployments, or simply not in line of sight.
>STEADIED.
>Watching the bundles contracting and expanding, it was even more erratic than before as if each wasn't entirely linked to the creature's control.
[1d6 = 1] <???
Addendum
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350882
350884
>>350881
[1d38 = 35] <Which Rookie Eats The Fucking Door?
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350884
>>350882
"Don't exactly know what this thing is or if it brought friends, keep a look out. If there is, attempt to engage from a distance, they'd likely be shapeshifters like this one."
>As he finished, he heard someone utterly eat a door while trying to go through it.
>Suppressing a snort, he shook his head and refocused.
>Bubba realigned his sights onto the beastie, letting out a soft breath before squeezing the trigger again.
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] >E. Battle Rifle
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
Razorback Fortress: Fuck THAT Skinwalker In Particular
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350888
350889
*"Library east half the way-"*
*"Library west on spot, enemy looking-"*
*"Arena tower south almost there, buddies are keeping lookout on sides-"*
*"Pegasus Tower north, about to fire, heads down north-"*
*"Guard encampmarent tower north locating, eyes below are searching-"*
*"Pegasus Tower South, three-quarter rotated-"*
*"Arena tower north, having serious problems with this fucking crank! Left and right sides searching for hostiles-"*
*"Clinic west tower, half way I think-"*

*"Out of Library an-"*
>The lead Mercenary rank's transmission ceases abruptly at the sound of a human smashing face first into solid wood, the man barking a single laugh and carrying on.
*"Sanders ATE the fucking door whole! Rest of us en route to Guard west tower-"*
>Muted chuckles, snorts, sniggers, and a facepalm are heard over the Fortress main channel.

>Adjusting one degree high for distance, squeezing the trigger mid-heartbeat rewards you with a merry puff of flame from the barrel, bolt kicking back hard as the Garand hits your shoulder off-kilter at least ten degrees right.
>Now was DEFINITELY the time for Gilda to receive an overhaul and extensive tuneup.
>Impacting the creature far right and a touch down from center, you could feel the northern section of bundles tearing apart while the rest snaps southwards.
>Clearly seen over the irons, all bundles cease movement as the creature collapses on itself.

>Bubba gains: +2XP

>Clicking back on, the voice from Pegasus North tower starts to speak but is cut off by Guard encampmarent west.
*"Pegasus north, target down and not moving, say again target down, no movement."*
*"Guard west tower, on it as.. well? The fuck was that? Or is?"*
*"Pegasus south, finger on trigger. Don't know, not something I've seen or heard of."*
*"Arena north, nothing in courtyard so says these two. I'm getting a Blade to come down.. Peach Drop en route to you now Bubba. You want to hang tight for her or no?"*
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350889
350891
>>350888
>Bubba couldn't help but grimace, knowing exactly how thick those Library doors were.
>"Sanders isn't going to be living this down for a good month, I bet."
>Suppressing his own chuckle at the misfortune, Bubba shot one last time.

>Eyeing his rifle with a frown, Bubba let out a sigh and shook his head.
>He definitely needed to get Gilda fixed up, from the way she was shooting.
>Waiting for a moment, he deemed it safe to set the rifle down and rub his face, ignoring the ringing in his ears.
>Tinnitus a bitch.

>Grabbing his radio, Bubba sat up and rolled his shoulders.
"Closest thing I can think of would be a skinwalker, unless someone has any suggestions on what it is."
>He let out a low chuckle and sighed.
"Yeah I'll sit tight and make sure the Engineer's alright. Or at least not choking on vomit."
>With that he glanced over at the unconscious unicorn, giving him an amused pat on the head.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Bat(Cave)!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350891
350893
>>350889
*"Arena south, the fuck is a skinwalker?"*
*"Arena north, can't exactly confirm but it's a Central Franco-Spanish Kingdom creature. Supposed to be able to wear the skin of whatever it skills, animals and humans alike."*
*"Arena south, got it. Please make sure he doesn't die, I've missed that guy."*
>Radio silence lasts five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds..
>Arena south breaks into half-laughing, half-snorting, the two younger men in his tower howling.
*"Fuckin' A man! You couldn't teach your damn Rookie the most BASIC shit?!"*
*"Fuck you! I told him to watch it! Not my fault he can't tell the difference between a swinging door and his own ass!"*
>Both Library towers break down, the Russian analogues cackling which are joined by Clinic west's nuclear scale honking laughter.
>Outside the banter, the remaining towers stay on target.
>Surprisingly.
*"Arena north here, no movement from here to Pony Barracks. Anyone else confirm?"*
*"Guard north, nothing in sight. Bubba, Peach Drop's about five seconds out from you.. and she's naked, the fuuuuuuck?"*

>Dead unconscious, but at least not dead, the Engineer's barrel rises and falls in slow, even motions, and to be expected the air around his horn was still laden with small wisps of dark colored static.
>The barest hint of a snore was apparent through that age old enemy of the ears.

>Hearing leathery wings before hooves thump onto the ground left of you and trot, the ever familiar face of Shanis' favorite batpony Arcane Blade comes into view along with the rest of her typically unarmored body.
"Hellooo~! I heard something about a weird creature made of rope?"
>Her preferred brown paint was definitely not in use tonight, instead treating you to the sight of deep red wings, neon orange coat, bright green hooves, mane, and tail of slightly varying shades, the curious bat's eyes a triplex of white sclera, pink interior, and black pupil.
>Immediately cracking a pleased smile at you, Peach Drop glances at the Engineer, the right eyebrow raising.
"Oh, hi Bubba! Is he.. no, I smell booze and Void. You look good, but what did he do?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350893
350896
>>350891
"They vary on location depending where you're from, basically the same for me except not from there."
>He didn't bother saying anything about wendigos, he'd rather not have an aneurysm after killing something.
>Again.
>Idly listening to the laughter, he unloaded Gilda and began idly cleaning it, wiping off any dirt on the folding bipod.
"Naked, you say?"
>He hasn't had the honor of a naked woman coming up to him in a while.
>Even if it was a pony.

>Shaking his head, he idly tilted the unicorn's head to the side, just in case he did throw up, it wouldn't go anywhere but out.

>He'd look up as Peach landed, giving her a wave.
"Not exactly. Shapeshifting... something, last report about anything sort of similar was about six months after Razorback became a thing."
>He gave her a shrug as he put Gilda across his lap, barrel facing away from them.
"He got pissed on moonshine, then overcharged my... construct cannon that Silver forced upon me with magic. Was out cold before he hit the ground."
>He gave a snort as he shook the bottle he still had on him.
"Still sober enough to point out the creature and let me know it was definitely a hostile."
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Bat(Cave)!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350896
350898
>>350893
*"Arena north, there was something like that in the North Mongolian Empire region. Don't recall what exactly but it was huge and made snow statues to lure in prey."*
*"Arena south, the fuck kind of world are you from?"*
*"Arena north, those were mythological creatures, not real. Mine was pretty damned normal compared to most people here, worst we had was a zombie plague."*
*"Guard north to Bubba, Peach isn't glowing bright red in thermals so she's not wearing her usual paint tonight."*
*"Pegasus north, courtyard still clear. Hey Clinic west, anything on your end?"*
*"Clinic west, nada. Armory west?"*
*"Krinza and Lann were holding hooves in the Mess before this started if you mean what hot events have been going on."*
*"Clinic west to Armory west, please use your call sign."*
*"Er, right. Armory west, nothing to report?"*
*"Clinic west, that's better Armory west."*

>Belatedly remembering that ponies tended to vomit sideways and down most often, you push his head back enough to rest his chin on ground.

>Bushy eyebrows furrowing in recall, the batmare lifts her wings, stubby claws rubbing against each other.
"Six months? There's a lot of reports in Naliyna's archive from that time. I'd have to check which to be exact."
>Pulling a wing forwards to cover her mouth, Peach's eyes shut as she halts a snicker, then gives you a questioning stare which turns into eye rolls along with a derisive sigh.
"Unicorns never can hold their dr.. inks. Right, that Enclave 'party' Denra put on. Fatass mare hasn't stopped causing trouble since the 18,320's. I remember Amerose talking about how bad the cleanup was. Worst mess that Enclave's seen since it was shut down I'll bat. Since that explains the Void tinges he'll be fine after a good day's sleep but I'll have Nova Flicker come out here for him in a bitty bat. Now let's see where Shapeshifter Unknown One is-"
>Turning to point her left set of claws at the Pagoda, the right wing reaches forwards, stabbing into the radius joint enough to draw blood.
"And there we go, now to trace it back-"
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Eee~.Blood Search
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
>After that takes a few seconds of tight lipped peering to sight the obvious starburst covered mess.
"Demi-sentient only functions out of thirty to forty times these nights so it's not surprising some critters marenage to get through the Remnant's protocols, even if the Pagoda's got all those arcane warning and sensory systems the Marquis installed. Did you see it come out of the Pagoda and go south, towards the Library, or did it come from somewhere on the Fortress' north side?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350898
350900
>>350896
>Bubba could only shake his head at the chatter, snorting at what Armory west reported.
"Good to know, thanks Guard north."

"From when we went on a mission to Luna's Memorial Village, I wasn't a part of it but I read the reports. Something slaughtered armed and armored Watch and Tower Guards, left no metallic or materials behind in the wounds. Couldn't figure out what did it because they were interrupted by something else."
>He motioned towards the now dead body in the distance.
"Shapeshifter like that could've done it, change limbs into something sharp and heavy enough to punch through Stalliongrad armor easily."
>He gave the Engineer a pat on the head before getting to his feet.
"To be fair moonshine's not exactly a light drink, plus he definitely pushed too much magic into the charging."
>Not that he would complain at the results.
>Watching Peach do her work, he slung his rifle over a shoulder.
"I didn't see it come out of the Pagoda so it might've, but it was definitely attempting to go towards the Library. Shapeshifted into something like a wolf and tried sneaking."
Razorbat Fort Stress: The Courtyard, Itty Gritty Bat's Cave!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350900
350906
>>350898
*"Guard north, you're welcome Bubba. ....I'm still confused about this whole paint being the same as clothing thing for batponies. Anyone understand it?"*
*"Clinic west to Guard north, batponies use the same definitions of clothing that Sea's Bounty uses."*
*"Guard north, you mean fashionable clothing for events, on duty armor, off duty armor, and then the other type of clothing?**
*"Clinic west, you got it. That's her on duty 'uniform' of sorts. Something Zigri came up with when he rejoined Shanis."*
*"Guard north, oh, well damn. Thanks for the info, I just figured she liked it. Cutting comms here. Tower north crew, if you aren't dying get ahold of the other Blades and have them secure the Courtyard."*
*"Tower north, roger, we're going quiet unless we find something of interest."*

"Now I remember that incident. Four, five humans didn't find the original target and stumbled across a Flame Naghtmare that'd burned the whole Village down. That is a no bloody joke armor shitting enemy to face, so I can't blame them. Luna's ponies didn't find a trace?"
>Creeping in front of you to loom over the Engineer, Peach Drop sniffs at him several times, then turns back towards the Pagoda, shaking the tiny stab marks until they bleed freely.
"I don't think that's right, Bubba. Shapeshifters in general have two of five issues. One, they've got some means of piercing armor that usually doesn't last longer than ten, maybe fifteen strikes. Going through large numbers of Watch and Tower Guard armor is bad news alone but I can't imagine much other than a monstrous creature could do that, especially alone. Two, they've got significant strength but only in short bursts, so if something did have one and two that's really bad news, but at the same time it'd mean they had to be large enough to leave some type of trace against.. what was it, six hundred psions? I don't remember the report saying even one was left alive. Four, they're stealthy and can maintain that for a long time, but once it's broken and they've been spotted it's pretty much a done deal. Five, phasing in and out or between realities takes its toll, and pretty quickly too. Even IF a creature had all five of those there would have been imprints, tracks, resonances."
"A wolf? ...here? That also doesn't make sense. Razorback knows to either go around or ignore Wargs and the like. Means it's definitely a shifter with some methodologies, probably a long timer. But, and I stress but: that couldn't explain killing six hundred plus Watch and a few Tower Guard. Soon as one psion dies the rest know exactly who, where, and when. Not only that they'd have Mind's Eyes all over the place. Something stinks about that incident and I do not like it."
>Now you know why Shanis preferring having Peach Drop being at Razorback: she wasn't mango crazy, too lewd (that you knew of), or always sleeping.

"All right, got enough blood out, let's see if I can do this properly."
>Taking a slow, deep inhale, Peach Drop's eyes flicker into moonstone, briefly speaking a low, solemn note of kee.
"Where did you come from? Where have you been while here? Why were you here?"
>Three streaks of bright red red lines jolting out from the trio of stabs and towards the creature's body, a series of patterns emerge above it after ten seconds, mathematical in nature you note.
>Tracing around the mess once, three brightly pulsing imprints of batpony eyes, similar to the Mind's Eye that psions loved to use yet much more squiggly, split apart into trails.
>Streaming lines crisscross throughout the Courtyard, connecting end on end in what you presume was the creature's many.. many... MANY routes.
>There were direct paths from each and every single building to.. every building, with only tiny curves denoting where its travels deviated off course.
>Although you'd seen batpony blood magic a number of times from Razorback's more levelheaded marefriends out of Basin Village, this was certainly a new, albeit much more useful, 'spell' than the normal ones they tended to utilize.

>Gazing across at the scene with a visibly blank look, Peach Drop's wingclaws tighten furiously.
"When, about eighteen months ago, plus or minus six months. Came in through the Pagoda, wasn't stopped or tracked that I can sense. Ethereal Remnant in the Pagoda either didn't notice or was ignoring it. Where, it's been everywhere except for the gates, hasn't gone outside once but avoided the Pegasi Tower due to Twisted Wing, Mercy, maybe both. As for why.. it was amused. It'd been pissing off ponies and humans all over the Fortress for a year and a bucking half. Little fucking shitbag."
>Ears flattening, the Arcane batmare's nostrils flare despite her attempted poker face.
"WHAT it is: Planar. Vortex to be specific. And the Vortex Remnant is reeeaaaal pissed. Stealthy, highly adaptable, not strong or fast. Armor piercing is a possibility. I need to investigate up close."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350906
350956
>>350900
"Nothing at all except for the slash and puncture marks. Unless they investigated after we returned with what she wanted and didn't bother letting us know."
>If they did, he couldn't exactly blame them, it wasn't their job exactly.
>He nods and dusts his pants off.
"The ones I've had experience with, changelings aside, are... much more crude. They tend to be a lot more brutish than the report stated, killing by tearing a person apart and then eating them."
>He shivered.
"Then if their hunger isn't satisfied they'll take the form of the unlucky bastard and attempt to lead someone else off out of view to kill them as well."
>He definitely had experience with them.
"We call 'em skinwalkers back home, the easiest ways to tell someone is replaced is extremely odd behavior and smelling awful, like a corpse. But nothing like this, or whatever that thing was."
>He glanced down at the batpony.
"Something's definitely fucky about that situation and I never liked it."

>He'd watch as she worked her magic, silently refilling the partially used en bloc clip with a few stray .30-06 rounds.
>As the routes were revealed, he'd blink and trace a couple of them with his gaze.

"I'd wager it learned the patrol patterns and sight lines of everyone over time to keep itself hidden. Would explain how I caught it by surprise with a rocket to center mass, it wasn't expecting the two of us to be up here."
>He frowned and patted himself down quickly.
"I'll come with, if you want. Would be a good idea to check my kill up close anyway."
>He glanced down at the unicorn, before quietly sighing and picking him up, gingerly slinging him over the unoccupied shoulder.
"Might as well take him along, gotta drop him off at the Clinic eventually."
>"At least he isn't bleeding on me."
Razorbat Fort Stress: The Courtyard, Batgoto
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.350956
350970
>>350906
"Changelings are six on the scale of one to ten for shifters, physical or otherwise. They can't hide their psychological and spiritual attributes for the most part unless they get 'lost' in their role. That's pretty rare though."
>Head tipping left and squishing her face into a 'this is slightly above my pay grade' grimace, Peach Drop whistles in a low tone.
"There's a few similarities for sure but not enough parallels. Closest monster to the skinwalker you know of is either the kad-zuri from Central Zebraica or the Miu-guong in Neighsia. First one has the stench, second one acts bucked up. Agreed, I'll make a visit to the Memorial Village to see if they have their own after action report because that is no Revenant."

>Studying the closest few streams it was clear that the Bat(Cave!) was rarely visited as well, instead serving as a point to deviate around to and from the Arena.
>While most of the creature's routes were worn in amongst pony and human paths leading from the Pagoda to elsewhere, acting as either a stopping or starting point, it had prominently selected the Library and Mess Hall.

>Nodding her assent, Peach shakes her wings out in distaste.
"Got comfortable with routes and timing, careless. Bad habit Solars, some independents have. Most mercs and Lunars don't take the same route twice or at the same speed each night unless there's an emergency. If it's used to recognizing sight lines..."
>Pursing her lips as you heft the surprisingly light dead weight, the Blademare flicks both sets of claws southeast.
"...that's it. Bubba, you know who's in the Library right now? Six fillies and a colt. Vulnerable to being startled by monsters and loud noises! Had to be targeting them, makes it an emotion feeder. Er, not like Changelings since they leech off excess moods and emotions, an actual eater-of-emotions, metaphysical, possibly spiritual. Go give him to Nova, I'll sit on the Pagoda and make sure it doesn't crawl away."

>Hopping up and flapping her wings once, the batmare flits towards the Neighsian structure with a loud radio inhale.
*"Towers in view keep your eyes on previous target, it's definitely a shifter from the Vortex so blow the bastard apart if it twitches. Bubba's heading to the Clinic and I'm going to inspect it from the Pagoda so don't shoot either of us but if any of you do I'm gonna bite your faces!"*
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Eeen~Spection
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <M.Flight
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
Anonymous
606d6bf
?
No.350959
right lads time for buggery.png
>innawoods
hi guise
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350970
351012
>>350956
"We don't have a lot of shapeshifters back home."
>Outside of some real fucky shit, of course.
>He still has the nightmares.
"To be fair though humans CAN become creatures called wendigos. The first one was previously human, in fact."
>He looked off in the distance for a moment, but shrugged.

>Trailing with her, if not as expertly, he'd be able to figure out general routes of the creature.
>While he was disappointed he bagged a pain in the ass over a more hostile entity, it was still a kill not many others had under their belt.
>If at all.
"Mm, with the weird shit this place has compared to back home I'm not surprised there's more than just changelings that feed off of emotions. Broadly speaking, of course."
>Weirdos.
"At least I did a service to the Fortress tonight."
>Shrugging his more free shoulder, Bubba adjusted the unicorn a bit.
"Considering it immediately ate a fucking rocket, I'd hope it isn't going to crawl away. It likely bled out, if my shot placement didn't help that much."

>Grimacing from the resurgence of tinnitus, Bubba set off towards the Clinic, wondering if the three humans from earlier were still there to give him more conniptions.
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.350979
351020
>>350880
>I let out a quiet snort as the Puff Skipper attempted to voice an equal amount of adorableness.
>Giving it a soft pat, I focus back on Wild.

"Unfortunately no, it's a lot more... undetectable than that. Though that has not stopped humans from holding 'lucky charms' for centuries. Including me."
>My gaze briefly flicks down to a simple necklace with a small rock embedded in an iron pendant.
"All I remember is that its impolite to do so, I didn't come from farmers. My dad's a carpenter and mother's a nurse."
>Unfortunately for me she tended to my wounds more than once during the war.

>I begin to open my mouth to ask her to dumb it down a bit, but shut it again.
"Thank you. Small fish and shellfish are not what I'm concerned about, so its good to know that's all you can find."
>For now.

"They... appear to be creating rain. Perhaps as an attempt to conceal themselves by sending a storm towards civilization?"
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
sage
Anonymous
425d9df
?
No.350982
351002
Would it have killed you to have communicated at all in the near two year period between posts? I quit because I thought this was dead. But instead it turns out it was just my time not being respected. I would've been able to stomach waiting if there would've been something other than radio silence. And now here it is again, trying to fool me a third time? Or can I actually have some assurance that you can at least say "There's gonna be some major delays" once in 365 days?
sage
85283e7
?
No.351002
351059
>>350982
How to contact a person when I deliberately let the thread archive? No, wouldn't have killed me rule #whatever: irl stays off the board does apply. Had been reorganizing what's left of my fucked up life, spent that time barely in contact with the rest on a certain shit program. When restarting (starting August 2nd) I tried to reach those that went silent, dropped off, disappeared, no one responded so I chose to continue on.

If you feel that disrespected then.. I don't know what to tell you. Epona goes with you. Give yourself the best life possible.
Anonymous
589bd22
?
No.351003
351008
I am interested in potentially joining this game. Is there any way for me to start?
sage
85283e7
?
No.351008
351009
58127532175138.jpg
>>351003
Step #1: did you read the OP's first 8 lines? If your answer is "No", proceed to:
Step #2: see Image 1. If you are unable to see Image 1 praise Aryanne, proceed to:
Step #3: repeat step #1

Seriously though: get on mIRC, server EsperNet, channel #OiE or use:
https://webchat.esper.net/
Anonymous
589bd22
?
No.351009
351014 351069
>>351008
I read the OP. Some of the links are broken.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351012
351013 351017
>>350959
Ahoy!

>>350970
"Don't say a word about THOSE creatures near earth ponies, unicorns, or pegasi, not even I want to hear about them-"
>Full body shivering, Peach Drop tosses her claws up in a warning motion.
"Not much from the Vortex Plane can bleed, they're not entirely solid in realspace here. In case it's still functioning I'll ask Nova to come out here-"

*"A damn big one."
>Peach reaches maximum flight in a few flaps, the trails of blood magic solidifying
*"Good news: high chance the mass contains a core somewhere. Bad news: core would be marble size if there is one, if if doesn't have one that's a composite shifter. Trying to figure out if it has one now-"*
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Eeen~Spection
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+4[ <Eee~Blood Search
[1d6+4[
[1d6+4[

>Burdened by the dead weight, upon examining the travel routes a bit closer there were three common paths the creature tended to rotate:
>Starting from the Pagoda's north exit it traveled north to the Pony Barracks across the Mess Hall then into the Armory, then headed straight down to the Pagoda, rarely deviating to the Pegasi Tower or Arena, then back to the Pagoda.
>Starting from the Pagoda's south exit it traveled straight to the Arena, down to the Firing Range, next the Library, Encampmarent, and returned to the Pagoda, rarely deviating south of the Library.
>Least commonly traveled was a route starting at the Workshop north, probably towards the orchard, then curved a path from the Predelk Outpost down to 100M or so from the front gate, and back to the Pagoda.
>Probably daytime routes.

>What looked like the most common night route started at the Pagoda, went to the Firing Range, veered off in a quarter-circle east then back the Pegasi Tower, onto the Workshop, down to the Library, and returned to the Arena before heading back to the Pagoda.
>Second started at the Pony Barracks, traveled north and around to the Armory, went to the Arena, then immediately returned to the Pagoda.
>Least traveled started at the Pagoda, curved out northeast towards the Outpost, went south between the Mess Hall and Workshop to Command Center, then back to the Pagoda.

>Reaching the Clinic and stopping briefly to eye a panel truck parked north-south with the rear doors facing the Clinic's door.
>The side read 'TACO LOCO', a Mexican above it holding maracas.
>To the south, peach Drop was banking a wide circle around the Pagoda entirely, flecks of red streaming down in a circle.
>Bumping the door open and peeking in.. all was relatively clear.
>Besides the three stasised humans, still fucked up Pred-Elk left, two of the younger Vets right, and a perpetually pissed off looking aquamarine Crystal pony that you didn't know in the left rear, the only change was Tipper's desk had been covered in bottles.
>As for the old unicorn herself, the couch she slept on was clear and it was unlikely she'd be in the operating rooms at this hour.
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351013
>>351012
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Eee~Blood Search
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
sage
85283e7
?
No.351014
>>351009
Just checked, all links are working now and Pupper fixed the last one
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351017
351029
>>351012
>He let out a snort, knowing exactly what she was referring to.
"Different ones than yours. Definitely less terrible."
>But he didn't elaborate more.
"Well it was certainly acting like it was losing a liter of blood a minute with how hard I hit the damn thing."

>As Bubba moved down towards the Clinic, he'd observe la creatura's pathing, able to tell where it was fucking around the most.
>He wasn't too surprised at them, after learning its' literal tastes.

>Giving Juan's panel truck a glance, he couldn't help but suppress a sigh and shake of his head.
>Figuring he'd get it over with, he glanced in before pushing the door open, glancing around for an empty space to dump the Engineer off onto.
>Figuring someone was around for him to explain what happened, Bubba placed the Engineer on the center right bed.
Dr_Juan_Carlos
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351019
351023
>>350721
>Doctor Juan tuts and shakes his head, heartfeltly agreeing with the Ward for the time being.
"Siento, Senorita Flicker. I am all too familiar to certain conditiones being neglected. For most of humanity if it does not make money, neither will any go into it for research. I would gladly lend my expertise, should you need it. Perhaps with different perspectives can a real breakthrough be made."
>Leaving all other inquiries for now, Carlos notices Nova beginning to make her rounds to the less critical patients in the Clinic and grabs a nearby clipboard and pencil to begin taking prognosis notes for himself.
>He had been so focused on Snakebite, Kraut, and Kraut initially he had forgotten the amount of triage going on.
"I shall follow and make observaciones."

>The first stop were two pred-elk. Apart from him knowing they were druidic in nature, he didn't know much past that. They appeared unconscious and quite injured, but Nova didn't seem to urgent for treatment.
>Perhaps after dealing with his next critical patient, he can check in on them if he still had energy by the end of the night.

>A pair of humans appeared to be on the mend, even as to leaving on their own. Zero priority, very good.

>The next patient, an light greenish-blue crystal pony didn't seem to be in the best of moods. And Nova wasn't having any of it, despite no words being said first. Clearly this Miss Ametrina has been causing problems all night.
"At least she is not critical and can be left alone."

>However, before entering OR #2 he is given prior warning on a Lejura.
"I will give her my best bedside manner. If she is in as bad shape as you say, then she should know better than to mess with her doctors."
>Carlos makes the last statement seriously, yet ends it with a light-hearted yet ominous chuckle.
>Closing the door behind them, Flicker reveals a far worse for wear Saddle Arabian mare.
>The previous notations made by the Ward were all there to bear: damaged eye, legs splinted to complete immobilization, burn pads across the majority of her torso.
>Playfoolery aside, he will only allow so much of it until he would like to focus on treatment.
>He starts off cordially enough, to keep the setting neutral.
"Hola, Senorita Lejura. I am Doctor Juan Carlos. Seniorita Flicker has informed me you are in pretty bad shape, as of right now. With your permiso, I would like to aid in assessing and treating your injuries to the best of my habilidades."
>The Doctor walks over to the leg-side of Lejura and taps one of the heavily splinted rear legs ever-so lightly with the eraser end of his pencil.
"You would like these to remain as intact as posible... no?"
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <E.Negotiation
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351020
351022
>>350979
>The creature wriggles once and emits a mostly happy puffing noise.
>It was probably sad at losing the only other squeaker in range.

"There are approximately six hundred enchantments and fifty charms listed in accessible databanks. I do have the information to produce several varieties. Would they work on you is the question.."
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Sensory Node #2
>That noise can't be good.
>Lefty finishing repairs and coiling down on the flooring, Righty's inspection of the opposite is quick and begins to restore Lefty's damage.
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <CC-MT #1: Non-Biological Repair Mode
"Then I will ask first if I find reason to inspect them. If they resist I will do so regardless."
>Still noisy as ever, the well known sound of EVERYTHING going wrong at once in the head unit above is complete by angry metallic snaps, crackles, and a sequence of popping glass noises.
"....I may have welded that node onto itself. I also may not have done that. Update: basic functionality restored, removing unnecessary material and damage-"
>What was that saying, three time's the charm?
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #8

"I have located significant numbers of larger fish, small sharks, eels, larger bivalves and crustaceans at approximately three hundred meters south. Coral reef zone identified, moderately active. Largest species is approximately half a meter in length, two-tenths a meter width.. minimal hostility. My heritage is likely dissuading them from approaching."
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Arcanum Sensors Array

>Leaning forwards to inspect the craft, your eyes spasm briefly.
>And again.
>Waiting for another, it doesn't happen.
>Rubbing the strain out and glancing the screens over, in the time you'd been suffering only the larger craft's trail remained which was quickly spreading outwards into a cloud similar to what pegasi could make although significantly lighter in appearance.
"Rain clouds... really mom?"
>For the first time in over half an hour, mini-Wild's sigh is irritated.
>But only a tiny bit.
"There is a ninety-nine-point-nine-repeating percent probability those aerial vessels are attempting to extinguish fires across the Crag Moors. Checking databanks.. the Ferron Clans most likely do not have known access to aircraft. I am unable to provide further data."
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.351021
351027
>>350558

>Mallia is suspiciously silent in response to Tox-11's threat, for a at least one full real time second.
>The surly threat does give her a bit of pause. She was left so confused that she actually wasn't sure what to add here, letting Andronal vent steam for a bit.

>She decides to (very hesitantly) respond to Witch-Two instead... Returning a response along with a bit of lingering concern.
(Uh, Okay, Admiral. Thank you so much for the help. Really. I'll probably need all the information I can get just to stay alive out here, from what I've seen so far.)
(... Also... how long until Inquisitor Velasi recovers? Is there anything we could do to help her? Anything I should take care on her behalf that she cannot do right now maybe?)

>Mallia straightened up again upon the Knight's saddle at the response she gets, smiling back to Raindrop in earnest and with just as much energy as the first time they met.
>She goes quiet again as the two discuss the healing, visibly listening to Raindrop with rapt attention and slowly nodding along with a squinted-eyed focus.
>Then she pouts a little in half-amusement from the pun. Swallowing her lip while listening.
>It probably doesn't help that Mallia, shortly after, also says:
"I'm extremely ready too!"
>Then patpats both of her hands on the top of Raindrop's helmet a couple times.

>Though her glance remains on Chisan for a while. Already taking out the hotshot laspistol and offering it back to take her own, lower quality one.
>She promptly takes the thing in both of her hands with a distinct care, looking down at it and giving it a brisk inspection. Then pinging it's machine spirit with a Litany of Forgiveness as she inspects the barrel briefly.

(Anima Mechanicus, forgive your humble servant for the discomfort these times may be causing you... I thank you for your patience so far.)
>Her hand caresses the surface of the cheap, plasticased thin, then reverently re-enables the safeties and returns it to her pistol holster at her hip.
"Olympa is made of plasma. Not quite flesh and blood like you are. I think she can be just as hot too, if she wants. Hence, uh, the impressive feat here..."
>Mallia explained softly after she caught Raindrop's tone, looking back up and to Raindrop herself with a lopsided smile.
>She then leaned to look a little down at the ground, beholding Olympa's work with the ground now being crunchy rather than slippery and muddy...
>Then up at the sky, given that they weren't being drenched by rain as soon as they stepped out.

>Still, Mallia quickly decides to bring up the Flak helmet and starts wearing it again. Tightening it and then spending a solid ten seconds lingering her gaze on Raindrop's helmet, tilting her head and staring with some guilty concern at the (minor) difficulty Raindrop has walking uphill.

"Byyy the way..."

"How are you two doing? It's been a pretty interesting day, full of... Excitement! And kind of terrifying too."
"This was only my first day! I wonder what the second day will be like."
>She sweeps her gaze towards Chisan on that note
"What's next on the agenda anyway? Do we get to take a break now?"
>The enginseer asked with a cautious, yet optimistic enthusiasm, looking between her two companions.

>Looking back ahead as they crest the hill, double-taking as she's met with a veritable wall of mist.
>Which Olympa removes with a flick of their wing.
"Woah..."
>Is all Mallia can really say in response, spectating the exchange from Raindrop's back.
>Likewise, Mallia wheezes a little bit. Shaking her head at the endearing creature.

>Shortly after, she braced herself from experiencing IMMENSE nausea once again...! Only there is no nauesea as they get brought back to the fortress.
>Which actually makes Mallia stiffen, bracing herself regardless in case it was somehow going to sneak up on her, or something...
>... What prompts Mallia to relax was the sight of Olympa. And then their subsequent disappearance, exhaling slowly.
>She looks back to Raindrop once. Then Mallia decides to burden the knight no more, carefully starting to lean a bit to the side and extend her leg to try and touch the ground and carefully dismount.
"I'm glad she's decided to come. Must've been lonely, being in Twin-Hill all by herself, waking up to nobody there to talk to and nothing to do every now and then."

"Also isn't it weird that I don't feel the slighest bit sick? The travel back felt downright comfortable this time!"
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351022
351036
>>351020
>I just stare at the screen for a moment, before holding up my necklace.
"Already have one."
>It would probably fall on deaf... whatever she had for ears, if I told her it wasn't CONFIRMED to have luck.
"Wild, just... no. That's not only rude, but a lot of ponies may see that as assault."
>I grimace at the noises she was making above us, even if I couldn't see it I knew it was not good noises.

"I'll be honest, I've never seen a coral reef before. I HAVE heard of them, though."
>A brief pause.
"Though now may not be the best time to go look at one."

>Looking at her irritated miniature self, I smugly grinned.
"But there is a chance that I'm right, isn't there?"
>She will learn spite soon enough.
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic, Operating Room #2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351023
351219
>>351019
>Hanging back a second from opening the door, Nova's softly star-pointed eyes roll once.
"While I understand the nature of greed from a pony perspective, only a small amount from human views are known to me. There is a strict no-profit motive for most of us as despise the idea. Naliyna for example has expended her fortunes to aid Razorback, and I believe Denra has done the same."

"Car-lohs.. I see. You have a deep Argentum Empire accent. I-"
>Neck bending several inches to bow her head, the coastal Arabian's lips tighten into brief, thin lines.
"Kesh Nova?"
>Carlos notes a medium sized whitesteel eye guard firmly affixed over Lejura's right eye, trace amounts of black Cryptus staining the exdges.
>Passing a troubled expression at Lejura, the Ward's horn sparks briefly to retrieve a tall blue pillow from underneath, the edge of a luxurious red blanket seen briefly, setting it under the silver mare's head, which the other mare rests on with a thankful smile.
"Legally speaking she is a refugee under Lunar protection here, permission is not required to assess and treat her injuries. However it would be inadvisable to move her. Approximately nineteen tiny manabombs and eleven small were detonated in close proximity-"
>Lifting herself on a carnelian disk, Nova points a forehoof at most of the bandages on her saddle and left side.
"Have caused a number of spinal and rib microfractures. I was told that a wyrm of some large species had to carry her out. Doing so exacerbated some into small and moderate fractures."

>Closing her left soft amber eye, Lejura's snout crinkles in discomfort as she mutters somberly.
"Do not strain for such, but I must answer yes. Kesh Nova confirmed my injuries after waking me the second to last time, I am aware of the likelihood of losing two legs from potential.. what was the word, Kesh Nova?"
"Necrosis, moderate. I stabilized her right rear leg's arteries, they are recovering well. Left fore and rear arteries are weak. I searched for blood clots and did not find any, then applied energetic stents which are still active."
>Nova moves the diagnostic spell disc over Lejura's rear legs.
>Displaying the rear left's knee joint, it had been heavily dislocated and forcibly restored into place.
>Severe internal bruising, high degrees of musculature compaction, moderate bleeding ceased though still evident, minor tears across most of the tendons, and two dozen or so microfractures surrounding the lower and upper hock.
>True to the combat medic's word, notable constrictions had been present from 3" above to 3" below the hock itself and were slowly, erratically pumping blood through microthin stents, the modern type Juan knew unicorn medics readily utilized.
>The right was minor, mostly bruising and stressed tendons, featuring only a few small fractures on the hock, small muscle compactions, tendon lacerations, with no constriction.

"I have scanned Lejura's entire body and still do not understand the vascular distress in left front and rear."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351027
351126
>>351021
'See? I said he would not.'
'too much data to file otherwise i might have considered it. map data nearly prepared, sending three copies to Command Center printer'
>Deflated but not fully defeated, Andronal's collaborating with Tracker and Witch-Two was >10% complete.
'No need to thank me, it is my duty to aid. At least until I can freely move about.'
>Codescanning a tracer ping from the Auspex, several engrammatically warded codes return from across the entire Fortress.
'No estimate available, Castella. Flash states she is unsure. She sustained a close range neutron detonation to her rear legs, rendered them and the lower portion of her spine immobile. With continual humonculotic treatmarent and nerve regeneration, a week is likely. The multiple high-yield laser, plasma, and particle whip injuries are 80% recovered.'

>Wanting nothing more than to keep its barrel warm and energies kept safe for your usage, the laspistol denotes a small dataplexes: Chisan asking it whether or not firing into stone was an acceptable usage.
>The answer was yes, though the Machine-Spirit REALLY wanted to continue.
>Happy, for now, and single-minded as ever.

>Rocking back on her hooves into a comfortable sitting position for you, Raindrop's ears flick while staring at the unusual mammal to her left.
"I'm a bit tired, but I can imagine you're much worse off."
>Which, feeling the strain of simply moving, was true.
"When not on duty or mission underway we are to be 'at your leisure'. The Inquisitor's list of preferences are: first wargear improvements, secondary study, tertiary active information retrieval, last is taking on commissions... mercenary contracts."
>Removing his carapace helmet, the Scion studies the face plate, then lifts to inspect his destroyed Auspex.
"Had the Inquisitor finished her tunnel under the Workshop she planned to deploy automated storage unit and a tech-forge system of an unknown type there. Local stocks of are at near maximum capacity."
>Remaining silent for a few seconds, Chisan's commbead is pinged from the south, a return from Aguina redirected northwest.
"A what Inquisitor? ...Triplex Nanite Forge-Vat Lathe."
>Shooting you a 'what am I hearing' look, you didn't recognize the name at all.
*"No, I do not recognize that STC designation nor similar.. definitions. No, Inquisitor, Enginseer Castella may, I will ask her immediately. Understood, have y- ...sleep.. well?"*

>Stretching off the pegasus Knight's saddle and experiencing barely worse than riding in a Chimera or Sentinel, Raindrop tips her head back to grin.
"Said that she slept nearly the whole time, so I figure the dreams were either really good or she doesn't need to. And, no-"
>Turning around to poke an armored hoof on the stone, a tiny bubble of subdued colors peers upwards, forming a flat eye.
"Hello again you!"
"Greetings Free Knight Raindrop Raspberry of Stalliongrad."
>The voice was a cross between oil-covered rocks clacking together and an archaic pictfax machine.
"There's three translocation services: business or diplomatic, high priority, which we got, travel, also known as medium priority, which is the one that makes you a little sick, and then low priority which you'll get used to after a few times."
"Heralds are classified as Secure Priority Subjects and may not accept medium or low priority travel."
"Uh huh.. that explains it. Say, got any messages, packages, whatnot for me?"
"These units do not contain objects intended for delivery to you."
"Ah well, thanks for letting me know."
>Bowing once in a slight motion, the eye returns back into the stone, looking as it hadn't even been there.

>Unfolding and stretching out the heavy wing plates, the Free Knight grunts at a subdued pop from her right.
"As for me, dunno what to do now. It's a few hours from dawn. Might take a nap or see what the grandmaster smith is doing."
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351029
351030
>>351017
*"Huh. Makes sense, some semi-solids can extract local materials, plant fibers and the like, for use as their body. Good indication it's been on planet for a long time."*

>Leaning up from his bed, the Vet, another EuroRussian analogue that arrived about five months ago, with an arm sling softly calls out to you.
"What's up Bubba? Heard some shots out there but I ain't about to go against Nova's orders. ..is th-"
>Taking a double look, he pushes himself up into a sitting position.
"Holy shit, I thought he was gone forever. Where'd you find him?"

*"Haaaaaaaay Bubba, not to alarm you but this thing's not technically dead. Or alive. I mean, it's surrendering and begging for it's, uh, existence to not be destroyed. Has a single large flat oval thing, might be a core. What do you want me to do?"*
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351030
351039
>>351029
>Bubba looked up to him once he put the Engineer down, standing up and rolling the shoulder he was on.
>While not overly heavy he was still slung over it for a good walk.
"He found me more like, over by the Bat Cave. The gunfire was me, towers were too slow. Dealt with some sort of... semi-solid, by what Peach said."

>He glanced down at the radio that she chirped at him over.
"Son of a bitch, I hit that thing with a damn rocket."
>He picked it up to reply.
"I'll be over in a moment, just... Don't kill it yet? I guess?"
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351036
351038
>>351022
"That example does not contain, produce, or dispart energetic properties and resonances. I have accessed a backup node containing information on standard enchantments, some of which I am able to produce alternate varieties of. A full list is available if you desire."
>Ideas, most of them bad, circulate from the implications.
>Peering from the right screen's edge, mini-Wild's technological eye squints as her antennae flick in concerned equine-like motions.
"Unless circumstances dictate otherwise, in the future I will ask twice, politely, before POLITELY searching cavities."
>Definitely inspired by Novus... maybe a hint of Caliya too knowing how often he'd stealth off to 'deal with' Allys.

>Quickly repairing Lefty in the same fashion, Righty gives the other implement a red light stare, both of them retracting back into.. wherever they'd come from, leaving the central cabin smelling like sweet flowers.
>Probably left that to hire the smell of sweat and Wild's desperation.

>The left screen is taken up by wire framed images of an alien world, complete with numerous fish and a host of other sea creatures along with one tiny shark.
"Potentially agreed. It is unknown whether local oceanic inhabitants are attracted to bright lights but I will assume some are."
>On cue, a small engine seizes above, or maybe that was what passed for her primary biomechanical sensory organ.
"Mild damage from heat stress located, capabilities unaffected at this time. ....I do not want to talk about it."
>The static from Wild's speakers was cold enough to make ice as it restarts.
>At least she had some mood control.
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Arcanum Sensory Array

"Minute possibility. Functional scans before leaving the Construct Assault Landing Vessel showed a twenty-six mile radius fire traversal. Update: secondary node restored. Now calculating approximate spread.."
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3]
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #8
"Complete. At this time the wildfire radius is a minimum of thirty to a maximum of thirty-five miles based on original wind speed and spread vectors. If the local pegasi are majority Ferron and scattered via nomadic groups there is a zero percent chance they could produce enough rain clouds to stop the spread."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351038
351045
>>351036
"Well it was made with love so there's something in it."
>I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
"Luck isn't something we can actually imbue an object with, we just... hold onto them because they make us feel better."
>The urge to roll my eyes has overcome my will.
"That's... better than nothing. We will discuss boundaries later."

"I've heard that some fish back home are, they use... biolights or whatever to actually hunt."
>English is hard.
>I remain quiet at her tone, a bit understanding about everything fucking up at once.

"Whatever the wave didn't reach they'll put out, at least... Hopefully the ones chasing us aren't too keen on finding us over putting out the fires."
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351039
351042
>>351030
>Not quite spread out, the unconscious Engineer's head tilts.. and starts to snore again; he'd definitely be fine for now.
>Least it wasn't like the loudly grating inhales and wave crashing exhales from Twisted.
>Or Roust's pseudometallic teeth.

"Good to see him alive at least. I heard over the radio earlier that everyone's keeping their turrets aimed up. Some Construct came out the Library, got smacked down by an actual lightning bolt, huge thunder clap included."
>The younger man's face creases in mild surprise, then palms his face tiredly.
"Don't know too much about semi-solids around here unless you mean the seal. My, er, our squad's been out trying to locate some missing train in Canterlot. Go on if you got other business man, I'll let Nova and the new Doc know what happened."

*"Wouldn't take more than three claws to do that, but sure, no destroying the critter. It's uh.. you'll have to see it for yourself. I'll try to negotiate a bit-"*
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <B.Neighgotiation
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351042
351124
>>351039
>Bubba just rolled his eyes at the unicorn and wrote down a quick note about the Engineer being a drunk idiot, before sticking it onto his horn.

"No, unfortunately not a seal. It was some sort of shapeshifter."
>He pointed his pen down at the unicorn.
"Let them know he's passed out from a combination of too much moonshine and Void magic overload of his own doing."
>He nodded and bid farewell, before heading over to what was SUPPOSED to be dead.
"I'm coming over now."
>He said to Peach over the radio.
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351045
351046
>>351038
"Love can be processed as a form of energy spread throughout multiple spectrums, electromagnetic bandwidths, and physiological chemical reactions. I am unable to recognize those patterns, but I will make notes on the subject for later examination."
>Receiving another pointed stare, antennae twitching in deep thought, mini-Wild snaps her armored fingers.
"Boundaries? Good idea, accessing regional map and locating nearest outpost, there may be one close by-"
>Rolling off and appearing on the left screen, cartoon Wild nudges the regional overlay onto the left side, examining it with her arms folded.
[1d6 = 6] <U.Cartography
[1d6 = 2] <U.Geography
>...that discussion promised to be a long, painful one.

"Primary repair access and functionality partially restored. And before you ask, I did not weld the node to the one next to it. It is now on the ceiling. I do not know why I welded it there. It it not SUPPOSED to be there. Moving it back."
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #8

"Do you mean bioluminescence? That is when creatures are capable of producing wavelengths to illuminate their surroundings or to.. lure in prey.. ..idea. Backup data located, analyzing potential camouflage characteristics"
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Sensory Node #2
>Golden retriever moments were apparently her forte.
>Resizing the left screen to show the entire map, two large orange circles were placed a short distance east from the marked location where she'd entered the ocean.
"I am unable to locate the Constructs from this position. Estimate: one minute until they reach my overland route."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351046
351068
>>351045
"Not with humans most of the time. Its more of a feeling than a resource to manifest."
>Changelings were quite different, after all.
>I'm pretty sure she heard me groan loudly inside my head at her response to 'boundaries'.
>Or she knows what I meant and is fucking with me.
>Though knowing exactly how far we'd have to move is a good idea.

"I'm not going to bother asking. It might just be more pain for the both of us."

"Yeah! English fucking sucks as a language."
>Glancing over the map, I nod.
"Looks about right. Its just dark enough down here where I wouldn't be able to spot them either."
Razorback Fortress: The Armory, Aiutante
GM_Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351047
351063
scrunchfce.png
theRagingPonyProbably.webp
>>350683
>Aiutante nods her head as shes giggles into a hoof before waving it dismissively at Anon.
"Oh ya, you humans are like cute glass bipeds. And not the strong kind of glass, either."

>As she examines the tall green human's handiwork, Aiutante rolls her eyes and scoffs nervously while taking notes.
>The scandal thinly hidden behind her eyes.
"Pff you all keep picking at Master Hodch. He knows his shit, I wouldn't be the craftmare I am today without his... tutelage!"
>Yeah, 'tutelage', she barely convinces herself.
>She side glances, reminiscing like a hypocrite.
>Despite the conventional welding process, the process didn't leave any weaknesses anywhere she could pick out. The diamondine layering, while more care was given, was also applied similarly. It needed to, given its nature.
"Ya, I've only worked with enough early diamondine to be familiar with it. This is good hoofling of it though. The suntone sight, I could try and apply a sigil or two to it to improve target acquisition. Maybe something for the plasma housing? How. About. Get this: a sigil that draws in ambient light when there's a low enough ambient level of sunlight or artificial. It could like totally simulate your human's night vision scopes!"
>Other than the complete avoidance of any fundamental magic methods, the large weapon was well-crafted and functional.
"It's a shame you humans are so inept to handling magic. Do any of you come from somewhere where it's like a natural occurrence and relative grasp on it?"
>An idea popped in her head, but it was ultimately crushed by the limitations set on humans in the first place.
"I get where magitek's coming from, and it sounds like craft casting... and at the same time it's not. Ugh, it's like trying to explain colors to a blind pony, or sound to a deaf one. I think trying to bypass the natural flow of Talus's magic is only like going to get humans so far. You can't do much with crystallines and oids without it. And Eldritch stuff, I like totally stay from that too. That shit takes a pony with a thick-based horn to deal with."
>Her own answer dumbfounded her as it rolled off her tongue awkwardly.
"It's almost like that Era Lock purposely bans any humans who can actually use magic similar to that on Talus! Maybe that was like... on purpose to keep you all from adapting too easily."
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351051
351087
>>350862

>"Half a year ago already? By god its felt longer."

>As Lont walked through the open courtyard of the Fortress he would occasionally glance down at the sleeping potato, watching her blubber jiggle. It was a funny and delightful sight, if his hands weren't full he would he playing the drums on her fatty hide.
"Huh?"
>He craned his neck to look back at the Matron.
"Why is she abhorred? Do you choose a mate for life in the Conclaves?"
>He asked inquisitive innocence though from what she said he could piece together why they did not like Tipsy.

>Lont let out a gasp of shock at seeing what was inside the Clinic.
>This was horrible!
>He almost forgot he was holding the seal when he went to inspect the humans, holding onto her a tad bit tighter as he tried to ascertain who they were.

>Walking to the reception desk the Operator place the seal in Tipsys' seat, to keep it warm for her of course.
"Here, you can place him here."
>He pointed to an empty cot that was close to the desk.
"I wonder if I could help Tacit in any way now."
>Looking around, Lont sought if there was anything he could medically do to help the Earth Pony, though he knew he was on a knifes edge.
[1d6 = 6] >Perception
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6 = 5]
sage
Anonymous
425d9df
?
No.351059
>>351002
My fault for getting over invested with unreasonable expectations then. I'll chalk up not being contacted to you not knowing how to use that other program. I'm in the chatroom.
Razorback Fortress: The Armory
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351063
351078 351205
>>350687
"My bad. Usually I grab what I can from the vicinity. Ammo, food, water, whatever's around. Time is never on my side with a heavy object though."
>Lifting the bottle for a swig, Anonymous freezes solid, cider spilling across the front of his tuxedo.
>Letting it down, he turns to hurl it into the doorway, then grabs his temples while reeling backwards
"IT DID WHAT TO HIM."
>Half-question, half-shout, one-quarter desperation, three-quarters unknown = 100% pain.
"I hate my life. Just.. pick something out so I can give it a tuneup. Please."
>Snapping fingers on his right hand, a pocket fridge opens up in front of you.
>The selection was pretty much every beer and cider known in Equestria, some black ones from the Hegemony, and lots of fruit cocktails from the Moors.

>>351047
"Believe me, I know."
>Reaching out to snag another bottle, the gestalt lifts a gloved hand to his forehead.
"...ponies mature anywhere from eight to ten years faster than the best of humans. Please realize that is both a cultural and mental problem for humans to even try understanding."
>Releasing a drawn out sigh, Anon pulls the cork, tossing it onto the floor.
"Er, it already glows at all light levels and imprints, like a background effect of sorts. Had to dampen that so it wouldn't blind the requester. Back then I couldn't figure out how to magnify the effect, still don't know how. Could try that, shouldn't blow apart. I hope."
>Lifting to take a sip, then a deep gulp, Anon's disturbed air is apparent through the mask as he points it towards the Workshop.
"You mean like your 'Master'. He has two thousand nine-hundred sixty some marks on his current listing. That's just the 'white', meaning 'potentially safe', ones. Luna lets his do whatever he wants under some set of rules she won't even talk about, so what should be black marks aren't on record, let alone half th- ..nevermind. I'm a bit shocked Hodch didn't leave all his diaries and shit to you before he left earlier."
>Giving a pained wince, he sets the bottle down, lifting the revolver again and palming the chamber.
"That's.. not exactly true. There are several humans capable of magic here, and one psion. What you have to know is this: most humans come from worlds that are three to fifteen levels beyond Equestria's Industrial Evolution Era, that being right now. What unicorns call high technology, that being entropic restrictive metallurgy and trains that can last for a hundred years before needing an overhaul, is functionally called Tech Level Nineteen. The Crystal Empire is twenty to fifty technological eras beyond MY capabilities, except for limited processing, deep into an Era that I can't even comprehend. There's..."
>Setting the wristkiller down and folding his arms, Anonymous taps a dress shoe for several moments, then speaks in a disquieted tone.
"Two. One from the next Era died in Canterlot. Humans from his Era can't arrive on your world now. The other you've certainly heard about from Krinza: Inquisitor Flash Velasi 'Flash' Aguina. Because HER era is so ridiculously far into the future only three have managed to translate through the Era Lock. She executed the first on about ten months ago, don't know why, don't care."
"In short: the Era Lock was modified by Princess Celestia in 29,996 but I think it's far too 'set' to change much more than a few parameters. Also, something must have broke since more humans keep showing up."
Clemency
!UbatCJ0.6s
6b058ed
?
No.351067
351073 351107
>>349595
>Following and gaining on Jeff, Clem tries to keep him in visual as he rounds the corner of the hostel
>He winces at the sounds of manabombs constantly exploding near him as he keeps running
>Slowing to a stop, Clemency starts to feel fatigue and tries to catch his breath
>Taking a knee and clutching his right shoulder, Clemency parses through the information going through his visor
>The cube was gone but the icosahedron was VERY concerning
>As much as he wanted to send the M-S.O.L.G. away, he needs that TLS for fire support
>He leaves the missile racks on self defense and leave the M-S.O.L.G. and standby
>The allied groups are staging defenses and he can hear the batpony telling him and Jeff their plans
>He looked up towards her and saw another manabomb although this one look like it is going nuclear in her hoof
>Something garnered Clem's attention on his HUD though
>Two Constructs on the pagoda
>Clemency furrowed his brow, confused at their presence and thought it was probably about the mothership he found

>>350667
>Clem looked over to Jeff
"Vampires? Oh man, what the fuck..."
>He stood back up and started to control his breathing: deep, constant breaths
"That'll be nice for the- oh shit. Jeff, I got two signatures at the pagoda. Two Constructs, unknown what they are."
>After another deep breath, Clem shares Jeff's sentiments
"Tell me about it...It's been a while since I felt like this."
>Following Jeff's gesture, he looks down the Southern road and he sees the swaths of ponies setting up and ambush
>Hearing Jeff's mention of the M-S.O.L.G., Clem was already prepared for his suggestion and already started queueing the TLS
"Reactor's needs to cool down from the rods it has shot. I only got the laser system left. I'll use it but then the S.O.L.G is done for this fight."
>Clemency sets a targeting solution on the Tainted mass and queues the TLS
>Looking at the pagoda and the evolving situation, a QRF would help massively
>He was concerned about Sunny and Mercy's statuses, but now he needs to help somehow
>Trying to reset his shoulder and let the armor enchant heal him a bit, he turns to Jeff and any potential batponies coming towards them
"Alright, I set the laser on the Tainted mass. That should do some damage. After it fires, I'm going to the pagoda and I'm going to get a QRF for you."

[1d6+20 = (3+20) = 23] <TLS
[1d6+20 = (3+20) = 23]
[1d6+20 = (5+20) = 25]
[1d6+20 = (2+20) = 22]
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26]
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351068
351081
>>351046
Psychological affects and effects are prevalent in both humans and equines. The description of 'love' is a biochemical reaction that produces succinct mood states, some of which may directly alter one's physical attributes and characteristics."
>Head turning a quarter, mini-Wild's right antennae flattens before returning to making notes on the map.
"Direct manifestations and marenifestations exist. I observed Father Caliya overdriving his physical body into a frenzied state solely based on his love for.. the mare he desperately wanted to return to. I cannot recall the name due to severe nodal damage."

>Tracing yellow lines from current position to a number of tiny dots and circles, the cartoon pauses her work.
"Mom, I've located two permarenent outposts, five semi-permarenent outposts, and two tiny settlemarents within a one hundred mile radius. Closest is forty-nine-point-two miles west, half a mile from shore. Second is sixty-eight-point-one east at a three degree angle. Due to Construct presence I will not attempt to take that route."
"Third, fourth, and fifth are close to each other on the southern Central Crag Moors edge. At 350 degrees, 13 degrees, and sixteenth degrees directly north through extremely rough terrain. Note: the term 'Crag' refers to large numbers of stone pillars spread throughout this section of the Moors. Most routes are impassable overland and would require either flight or a much smaller physical size.. like an earth pony."
>Head swiveling to give a pain-filled nod, the caricature tosses her electronic marker into the air once, then returns to searching the map.
[1d6 = 3] <U.Cartography
[1d6 = 4] <U.Geography

"I have restored access to a node belonging to Father Novus. My repair systems are.."
>Physically shuddering as several components component above the chest cabin snap apart, Wild's entire form bends forwards, armored hands holding her head, speaking in a tiny, exhausted voice.
"...progress severely impacted. I have completely fused the repair node to the ceiling, and destroyed that section of my internal hull. Access remains to the datanode. Transferring my current data network now, and initiating restoration on primary repair system two."
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Sensory Node #2
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #8
sage
85283e7
?
No.351069
>>351009
If you can swing around earlier tomorrow I'll have someone bring you aboard, I'm almost done for the night.

Create a Strangereal backstory that isn't Marty Stu/Mary Sue, make it.... semi-realistic. Does not have to be long, 2-3 paragraphs is perfect (unless you happen to be a writer, in which case go buck wild!). Come up with a fitting innawoods for the PC (Player Character). It's the best loadout placeholder system available, hence why we use it.
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Arrive Post #1/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351072
351107
>>350667
"Yep, it's stable enough, pun definitely not included. Pulled it out of the Arena earlier from one of the locked sections. It's old but should give a few dozen Tainted the biggest poundi-"
>Two wrong sounding clicks and the batmare physically conflagrates into a muted black and orange-streaked mist, the contained manabomb clattering onto worked stone.
>The existence of a batpony blinks at her empty claws, flexing them with a slightly defeated sigh.
"Great, jinxed it. And now I'm Sun-cursed. Not like I'd leave the Moors anyways, now I have even less reason to. Fantastic. Buck this, I'm off to see what I can do up top. See you whenever and try not to have this happen if you can."
>Quickly snatching the DEFINITELY long banned war crime, the next mare in line mutters angrily under her hood, 'bucking old ass relics lacking proper knowledge for safe deploymarent', while the newly Plasma-Corrupted batmare effortlessly leaps up, rapidly climbing the Lunar hostel's exterior.
[1d6 = 4] <Stability
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Control

>Passing off her own bomb down the line, a much simpler infused variant, one of the Dark Horse Cultists close by flips a trio of stubby claws in your direction, leaping onto another mare's waiting shoulders and wings around the hostel's west side, kee'ing loudly.
"I'll bring 'em here!"
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Eee~Rallied Flight
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
>To:
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <Leadership: Rally
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15] <Minor Lunarite Collective: Voidskip

>The second, a bright yellow eyed unicorn from one of Luna's Villages given the loose fit light purple robe, passes a kanpri plate down, then lifts a forehoof to you.
"I've been to Razorback Fortress a few times to visit Lann, and the Vortex Remnant knows me well. What is your request?"

>Failing to do more than continue denting the Dagor and losing coherency, the three severely damaged Tainted Mass start the process of consolidating into a single form-
>And are immediately blitzkrieged by Marshmallow Moon charging into them from the rear with a resounding snicker, heavy kanpri wingblades of the feather-locking variety snapping into the trio and releasing violent starbursts.
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16] <Charge
[1d6+13 = (2+13) = 15] <GM.Bladesmare
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16]
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18]
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19]
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17]
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16] <Heavyweight
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <Voidcrack
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <Voidrend
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Raging Taunt
>vs:
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <#1
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <#2
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+7 = (6+7) = 13] <#3
[1d6+7 = (1+7) = 8]
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10]

"Luna's Collectives? They went to sleep before the amber rose plant was overharvested, which became extinct half a decade later. Nopony knows how to make them grow either, it's been tried. I'd like to meet one of them if I live through this through."
>Came a red-robed batfilly with a distinct Deep Moors accent, likely the daughter-in-training of a Hunter-Killer, currently sorting through a satchel full of tiny sealed manabombs of varying colors and hoofing out only the brightest ones to her kin.
"Mom said that was a Construct invasion force, one hundred full Maniples. Ten thousand plus a few hundred Repair units, unknown Rift models. Unfortunately no Repairs were captured but one of the Arc teams snagged a big Rift Gate Constructor. A surviving Tetrarch Ranger counted off a whole bunch of archaic and relicted variants, every historical model, some prototypes too. A few Breachers, medium Command models, supposedly a new Argus variant, and less two hundred some were able to exit. Total known losses on the Citadel: thirty-nine thousand as of an hour ago. Three-point-nine to one, plus or minus point-two, against Constructs is the best we've ever done."
>Head cocking to the left for a second, the batfilly continues with a quickly spreading grin.
"She has summoned a half-strength militia unit from the East Ocean Moors, a half-strength Support Striker Division from the.. Second Dynasty, whatever that is, and a half-strength Watch Guard Division. ...oh. Oh my Stars on Moonbutt's Moon Butt, a full strength Councilierge Assault Vanguard Battalion has been deployed along with the Councilierge's only Primal Psion. I cannot believe my first battle is going to be so HUGE!"

>Watch Guard General:
[1d6 = 5] <Boris: Logistical Support
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <Mercy: Combat Support
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Sunny: Tactical Support
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Reclaim Routed

>Support Striker Battalions:
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Unit #1
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Unit #2
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Unit #3
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Unit #4
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10] <Unit #5
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <Unit #6

[1d6 = 5] <Day Guard Reinforcemarents
[1d6 = 4] <Night Guard Reinforcemarents
[1d6 = 5] <Lunar Guard Reinforcemarents
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Arrive Post #2/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351073
351076 351142
>>351067
>PROPERLY setting nearly all of their charges, the two mixed squads of Moorites and Luna's Village unicorns close by get up and skip, or walk, around onto the south road, quickly joined by the four squads on the opposite side.
>Avoiding the few manabombs and unstable kanpri plates to place theirs, in loose arrows no less, with greater yield weaponry closer to Basin's entrance and lesser variants further south.
>The sight was similar to archaic Lunar Guardian defensive tactics, except they were using far more war crimes.
>Overhead the Hunter-Killers turn their weapons over to rather plain black robed batponies, carefully placing a worrying number of charges on the building's lip, settling back to wait.
>Sacrificial ambush initiators, not that batponies cared.

>The Hunter-Killers themselves reappear overhead, diving towards the three barely coherent Tainted Mass being disrupted by a large, slaughter dancing pegasus wearing a floppy pink sunhat.
[1d6+7 = (5+7) = 12] <Hunter-Killer Squadron #1
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Hunter-Killer Squadron #2

>Acknowledging your target and accepting the firing solution, the M-S.OLG.'s micro-maneuvering jets deploy.
>Turning the few degrees necessary, the aperture lens focuses in and down using your helmet's telemetry system.
>Sighting the unidentified targets and going to yellow phase, cold-state logic locates a higher target concentration in the eastern battle line rows.
>The satellite performs a microcalculation, then initiates TLS firing sequence.
>A brief pause-
>Then that loud, familiar air piercing and ground trembling shriek-roar occurs in the south, scything through a cluster of giant Tainted, and with all that water...
]1d6+15] <Overpressurized Oxy-Hydrogen Detonation

>Barely noticed out of the corner of your eye, one of the Construct icons starts moving, directly for you, while the other one streaks towards Lann's shop.
>Clemency's Rift-Symbiote:
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <Close Combat Combat Aptitude
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Ranged Weapon Aptitude
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Assistance Module

>Mercy's Rift-Symbiote:
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] Close Combat Aptitude
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Assistance Module

>Reaching the Basin Village's north edge, the VIP Conclave Killknight icon flashes black once, then becomes solid gold with a bright white ring as it continues a meandering pace towards the fountain.
>Leader, for now.

>At the translocation stone scores of Watch Guard consolidate into one, next are East Moor Militia icons, a 'Second Dynasty' Support Striker Division, a Watch Guard Combat Division icon, and then-
>A single burning turqoise icon labeled; 'Vestal Gardenia, 11th Ruling Councilierge'.
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351076
>>351073
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17] <Overpressurized Oxy-Hydrogen Detonation
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351078
351218 351474
>>351063
"Bah don't sweat it, they're pretty common and its not like one would be some sort of miracle cure for bleeding."
>He paused for a moment and idly pat one of the containers at his belt.
"Besides, the one I have is better anyway. Does the same thing but more of it."
>Ivan almost reacted to the man's reaction, hand twitching as he was about to try and save the bottle, but decided against it.
"Yeah so uh, artefacts don't like ponies. I think they'd react similarly to how the anomalies they're formed in would."
>Which means that his Slug may just melt the pony touching it or something.
>Interesting.

>Thinking for a moment, he internally said "fuck it" as he grabbed a cider, popping the top off to take a swig.
"Fuck it, I'll take the minigun. I doubt many of the others want to lug that son of a bitch around and my exoskeleton can take the weight quite well."
>Plus it's just wasting away in the Armory!
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351081
351095
>>351068
>I just stared at her mini-self for a long moment.
"When someone has a love to return to, they would move Heaven and the Earth to get back to them. What I'm talking about is embedding it into a charm, we can't do that."
>Changelings probably could.

"That is... substantially more doable than I was expecting. Would we be able to find a route you can fit through, if we had the time to examine them later?"
>I glance over the map that she was creating, studying it as well.
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]

"I'd say to power through it but that may not be the best wording."
>"No clue why her systems are fucking up so much, honestly."
>Maybe she's unlucky.
Anonymous
3b99a74
?
No.351083
351088
Never expected this to go live again
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351087
351134
>>351051
>Cocking her head at you in a mareish gesture of 'why do we have to talk about this', Matron Farezith groans softly and lifts a hoof to place in the middle of her forehead.
"Conclave stallions may have up to five mares. Three is most commonly preferred as we trade members between each outpost. Four is considered novel, rarely taken advantage of. As the eminent Doctor would not have spoken of to you, she had taken five unicorn stallions of her early years. The remainder were Crystal stallions.. six from the Conclaves. I know not of the Kingdom lineages."
>Sore topic, but not an irritable one.

>The man with his arm in a sling was a Veteran that had arrived a little over five months ago, the sleeping one a EuRussian-analogue Mercenary from the original 100, now leading his own squad on behalf of Luna's Villages and sometimes taking expeditions into other parts of the Moors.

>Placing the squishy pinniped down on her belly, the flippers splaying outwards.
>Whiskers twitching once, she emits a half-squeaky sigh of contentsealent, the eyesore of a Crystal mare snorting amusedly.
"Cuter than the traditions said to expect as well."
>Farezith slides towards the bed next to the Veteran's, pausing at Operating Door #2 opening and Nova Flicker quietly clopping out.
>Closing behind her, the young carnelian mare's head turns-
>An awkward staring match ensues between the hybrid and the possible abomination.
[1d6 = 1] <Farezith Melodine
[1d6 = 4] <Nova Flicker

>Examining Tipper's bottle-covered desk, one of the Warden Generals had spent quite some time producing ten of each common elixir.
>As you knew Tacit was on the verge of a double overdose, those maximum strength varieties might do considerable harm.
>Running your eyes across the wall and floor cabinets, shelves, and then the former Honor Guard medic's desk.. you recall several vials of a certain pink substance in one of the lower drawers, kept hidden in a mythril hardcase.
>You could either commit a seriously illegal act with one or several in a row.
sage
85283e7
?
No.351088
351089
>>351083
Severe personal troubles plus last year's economic crash fucked everything for me.
Anonymous
3b99a74
?
No.351089
351093
>>351088
Already figured, just never expected you to come back to this after sorting it out.
sage
85283e7
?
No.351093
351094
>>351089
I HATE leaving a group project unfinished.
Anonymous
3b99a74
?
No.351094
351096
>>351093
Same, I'd rejoin, but you already kinda made my character an NPC, so I'll just sit and watch.
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351095
351097
>>351081
"Transfer complete, rerouting.. mom, that's not correct. One-sixth of my existence was directly copied from you. Before damage rendered most of my databanks and nodes offline I was able to correlate and interpret varying forms of existence as elemental states; solid, semi-solid, liquid, semi-liquid, gas, to name five out of a theoretical two hundred. In much shorter words: I DID understand the process to create physical objects from emotion, moods, and concepts. I never got the chance to experiment with it, unfortunately."
>Rolling onto her back, the Wild caricature taps her eye with the marker.
>A speaker on the left screen even takes a 'tink' sound.
"You could try performing that on me, like.. 'shove' an emotion into my hull. I do not foresee any risks to the process when reversed."
>Was this a Corgi moment?
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Sensory Node #2

>Rolling over onto her chest and kicking both legs idly, the marker is pointed up at each route.
"Closest one west has easy access from the ocean. The three north on the Central Crag Moors edge are impassable for me. You would be forced to go on foot but I cannot allow that as we do not know what hostiles inhabit the region."
>Perusing the intended route west, the semi-permanent outpost was on a small hill in a thinly oceanic forested region, and access from the ocean was a fairly wide stone road.
>Between the map grid markers and lack of other locations, it was, unfortunately, the closest, though you didn't know if the remaining waves would cause problems reaching it.

"I'm trying, but right now my.. I can't name much that doesn't hurt."
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #8
sage
85283e7
?
No.351096
351098
>>351094
I left after your last message due to an emergency. When I came back home three weeks later I saw it. Still hurts. Felt that since you were done and gone, I went that route to give Clemency and Jeff their continuation. That isn't a permarenent change
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351097
351099
>>351095
>I just stare at the mini Wild for a moment, before letting out a soft sigh and groan.
>She was hurting me mentally.
>"Is this what my mom suffered when I was growing up, except... less eldritch?"
"I... Don't think that's appropriate for a mother to do to her daughter, Wild. Nor do I really think its a good idea to do that while you're mostly offline."
>I was not going there while she had tendrils at a moments' notice.
>What the fuck is a corgi?

"We might not have a choice with me going on foot. As a scout-sniper I'm trained enough in concealment to not be easily noticed, at least."
>Lightly tapping the closest one to us, I lean forward.
"The problem is I don't know if they'd be hit by the tidal waves, or if they are, how badly they'd be affected."
>Still...
"Once the Constructs leave, how long would it take for you to go roughly fifty miles? Under current conditions and not underwater."
Anonymous
3b99a74
?
No.351098
>>351096
Still got your old discord?
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351099
351116
>>351097
>Tossing the marker up, mini-Wild's head turns to answer you, missing the catch, right antennae thunked afterwards.
"I don't mean like that, mom. And those are MEDICAL devices! You, like all humans, have the inherent ability to infuse aspects of yourself into objects and living beings. Part of that is due to your ability to process and understand emotions, how they impact others. Empathy in short. The other part is-"
>Halting herself, the cartoon picks up the marker and begins twirling it around.
"You are Otherworldly, means you aren't bound by this world's laws for the most part. Put your hand on my hull and ask me to repair myself. Not like I can do any damned better at this point-"
>That was partially true.
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #8

"I will allow that if you let me to improve your equipment once I have at least my primary repair node fully operational."
>Giving her best one-eyed stare, mini-Wild returns to inspecting the map's western sections with small question marks floating above her head.
"I don't know. Beginning calculations of tidal coefficients, impact zones, and damage vectors based on the first wave-"
[1d6 = 1] <U.Cartography
[1d6 = 1] <U.Geography
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Sensory Node #2

"..fifty-eight minutes in my current state if the route is relatively flat. Should I attempt to repair my legs first? Update: Construct vessels should have reached the location I entered the ocean, if they did not slow or deviate course."
[1d6 = 2] <???
[1d6 = 5] <???
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <???
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Pulsar
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351100
351127
>>349310
"Suspend your processes. I will locate it. Shut yourself down. I will reactivate once it's been determined there is no possible remaining active Constructs in the vicinity. Worst case scenario, the arm is capable of independent movement."

As he states this he sprints towards the Library and after giving sufficient time for his AI to suspend and close all processes, shuts it down via the manual safety drive switch clasp on the back of his helmet.

[Locate the General. Sweep the area. Turn over all Construct remains to them. Insufficient ability to contain them here.]

Entering the Library, he begins searching for General Thansimum and her companions to confirm the location of the missing Construct piece.
Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351107
351142 351149
alsoNervous.gif
>>351072
>He wasn't an expert by any means when it came to manabombs, preferring anything that was stable enough to be shot at and lit on fire without detonating.
>But the sounds the wildly illegal manabomb had made along with the batmare literally being Sun-cursed right in front of his eyes as she frustratingly accepted her fate, Jeff gives her a sympathetic yet hardened nod of a salute.
"I'll try not to. Good luck, and make it count!"

>The first responder, a Cultist batmare eagerly takes on the task of regrouping the Lunarites. Jeff gives her a two-fingered salute in confirmation as she takes off South.
>One task down.

>The second responder, a Lunar unicorn breaks from the ordinance teams to await his commands. A unicorn will work, they can teleport right to the matrice.
"Ready? Head straight to the Command Center and relay whoever is currently overseeing the Master Radio: Code Red, Basin Village. Immediate QRF, Imminent Tainted Over-Run."
>Realizing that's potentially a lot of forces for an occasional visitor to be ordering for, he adds his Administrator Override at the end.
"Authorization: Juliet Delta Alpha Mike Zero One. Repeat it back to me to confirm, then go."
>Two tasks down...

>Having gotten a second of breather between his runners setting, a Deep Moors batfilly chimes in on his conversation to Clem.
"Hey you might get your chance. Should be a dozen plus regrouping with us shortly. And I was up at the Citadel a few hours ago, I directly engaged that Argus too. Cracked its hull and made it bleed, then ordered a bombardment on it so hard it tucked tail and ran!"
>It was a good pair of shots, but man the Gepard was a devastatingly unruly weapon.
>Her enthusiasm only grew more as she started listing off more forces the Tower General was clearly funneling in.
>East Ocean Moors, a little off for Councilerge but okay.
>Support Strikers, okay, Second Dynasty were of Stalliongrad origin right?
>Half a Watchguard division AND a full Councilerge Assault Battalion.
>He counts up the number of incoming reinforcements in his head, giving the troop setups.
"That's a lot... should actually tip the odds in our-... did you just say the Councilerge's only Primal Psion?"
>For a second, Jeff feels his heart skip a beat.
>If it's who he thinks it is, being the sitting Councilerge Primal Psion he verbally abused and interrogated several hours ago, his night just got a whole lot more complicated.
"Fantastic..."
>Groaning internally and externally, he pushes it to the back of his mind for now. If this many Councilerge forces are defending the Basin Village then that Treaty clearly has been thrown out the window.

>>351067
>Jeff nods to Clem's disbelief, but he's more gritting his teeth over the whole situation.
"It's complicated... I don't think they can survive in this era. I'm literally chaperoning them for a... last hurrah. Pretty mad about it. Anyway- Constructs? Only two?"
>What..
"That's weird. What Constructs use the matrice anyway? No way they're getting far if they're hostile."
>Two Constructs were unimportant for the time being. An orbital laser strike however.
"A laser?! Oh man, I can't wait for that to come down."
>He's opting to head back to the Fortress to get reinforcements as well.
>With how Clem's been rubbing his shoulder, it's probably better he gets it tended to before running around more.
"I sent a runner off to get that started. When you get to the Fortress, help get the QRF formed up and lead them back here. See which heavy hitters are floating around, maybe someone who can haul the minigun or something. I think by the time you get back those Tainted will be in the village and everyone holding them back at the matrice Alamo-style. Sounds like we're about to get a LOT of reinforcements anyway. Get your arm looked at, too."
>Jeff peers around the corner to look at the Tainted's approach.
"If it's sitting around, can you bring back the M32 and whatever HE forty mikes we have floating around."
>A ground trembling, air shrieking incoming bombardment emanates from the South and above the enemy.
"Ohoho, mama..."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351116
351128
>>351099
>I could only stare as mini Wild misses a marker, on screen, that she should have control over.
>"Is she that distracted?"
"They are invasive medical devices, young lady."
>I tut at her for a second as I listen to her explanation.
"I mean, I'm preeeeetty sure I'm bound by most laws, you'd likely be more correct if you were talking about yourself."
>But.
"But, why not? Its not like I'm able to do much with the process other than move you while its going on."
>Placing a hand on the inside of her hull, I close my eyes.
"Wild, I need you to successfully repair yourself. You haven't been my daughter for long but I don't want to lose you."

>I nod softly in reply to her compromise.
"I'd like that, wouldn't say no even if I was stubborn about it."
>"Its a shame I don't know the first thing about the ocean other than 'fish live here'."

"It would be a decent idea to get them repaired enough to be 100% stable on the off chance they're not right now."
>I give the mini a nod.
"Go ahead, I should be able to get us there as long as I have a map to follow."
[1d6 = 1] <Choice
Razorback Fortress: South of The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351124
351129
>>351042
>That note was going to give Nova Flicker a fit, you could FEEL it.

"Shit gets weirder by the night."
>Reaching up to grab his slimline radio, then, realizing where he was, the Vet shuffles back to lying down with a pained exhale.
"Fuck that hurts. Will do man, you keep locked and loaded."

>Exiting the Clinic and heading down to the Pagoda, Peach Drop was in full ten-questions-a-minute mode, almost like a unicorn.
>No wonder Big Bitch paid her triple to stay in the Fortress.
>The responses if they could even be called that were in irate, scratchy Common, sounding more like grass and leaves ruffling together in a light wind.
"-ot thrown out before the Big Pony War. Didn't like most and didn't care."
"What was the name of that conflict?"
"The Lunar... Solar... War?"
"What three militaries participated?"
"Three? I only know about the Lunar Guardians and Solar Guadians."
"You forgot mercenaries and marecenaries."
"How are those a mil-"
"Next question: how marely Sunglobes did Princess Celestia deliver to Stalliongrad fifty years later?"
"Uh. Ten?"
"Wrong answer, two hundred. Next question: how marely Emissaries of the Void were summoned by the Nightmare?"
"That's an easy one! Three, Durandal went to the Citadel, another went to the Deep Moors, no name I think, and one for.. ..I don't know, never heard the name before I got sealed in a locket."
>Entering the Pagoda proper, you take note of a black altar opposite Naliyna's tent stall, but continue on to the puzzling sight of Peach Drop sitting down in front of a half-sized earth pony made from barely hanging together bundles of natural fiber and rope.
>Extensive Void starbursts covered the entirety of it, a number of orange shards stuck throughout, while four giant claws behind the creature and the partial ditch it was in left no doubts as to how much impact the shell had delivered.
"Two last questions from me: do you know whom struck you at range four times?"
"No..? Wh-"
>Left wing stretching out and pointing at you, the Arcane Blade sets a cold killer's gaze on the shifter.
"His name is Bubba, an Otherworlder. Do you know what that means?"
"Nnnnno."
"Certain Otherworlders can permanently destroy most Planar and Undead beings without special weapons or enchantmarents. Their very existence is enough to do so. You'll answer his questions after I speak to him."
>Leaving the creature to recoil in existential fear, Peach locks her eyes on it though turns a tufted ear in your direction.
"I was one-quarter right. Tawi here was kicked out of the Vortex Plane around 29,150 for being a prankster. Spent a while doing nothing at all on the edge of Gryphon territory then got picked up by a Lunar Guard team. In all fairness h-"
"SHE."
"She, then."
>Turning to give you a relieved yet still fairly pissed off glance, the bat's eyes squint.
"Is virtually harmless. Negligible strength, speed, no stealth or natural weapons. But, Tawi is an excellent mimic and has a good memory. Worst things she's done have been impersonating ponies or humans and causing conflict. Like a certain incident with...?"
"....his name is Hodch."
"You did what after copying his body and voice?"
"I.. messed with a human in fancy tech armor.."
"Just for kicks?"
"Yes."
"That's yes ma'am to you. How did you emulate his ability to move objects around?"
"Not easy. Used a bunch of spider threads, stuff is everywhere around here. Clinic. Workshop. Arena some times. I learned how to make them invisible and act like my bundles."
>Snapping both sets of wingclaws open, Peach Drop leans forwards to hiss much like a pure blood-drinker would do.
"Do you realize how much that FUCKING hurt morale here?! Half the ponies and humans thought Hodch lost his damned mind! He has NEVER looked down on humans! Worst he does is make a snarky remark and lets the topic go!"
>Staring down at the shredded ground underneath it, the shifter looked sincerely guilty, and sounded it too.
>Could it mimic emotions?
"No.. ma'am. I-"
"When he's done I'll decide what your punishment will be. Be grateful I haven't YET been authorized to destroy you."
>Ears perking up and smiling once more, Peach flicks a claw at the shifter.
"Ask anything you want Bubba."
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.351126
351132
>>351027
(Don't worry Andronal, I'll stop. I'll just tell the Sunspot you'd rather not.)
>Mallia briefly beholds the amount of data the quartet of spirits was working on, taking a moment to access the processes and curiously check what filing method they were using.
>The mental image of looking over the shoulders of the four would be pretty apt.
>She didn't go to interact with anything--she absolutely didn't want to interfere with the flow of information. But she did, subtly, try to appraise the work to see if she could, maybe, help in the future. Or learn something new from the Inquisitorial methodology, even!

[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <E. Tech Use + B. Machine Link + CQ.MIU: Auspex Link
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]

(Sheesh... Flash is pretty tough! I'm glad she's doing okay.)
(You haven't told me if I can do anything to help but--it's okay, I think I can just ask Inquisitor Velasi directly at this point.)
(It's kind of exciting! My first possibly positive interaction with an Inquisitor.)

>Mallia, upon hearing 'you're much worse of', was tempted to go 'I'm fine', but,
"Weeelll~-... Actually no you're right. Damn, my endurance used to be better than this. I did just straight-up die and come back to life on Tallus though, I guess..."
>Her tone could not have been more casual about it.

>She runs her hand along the back of her neck and shifts on her feet, resting one hand on her hip as she shuts her eyes for a second.
>Now that she was in a 'safe' space, the emotional exhaustion encroached a bit more. The pain in her legs and limbs was also pretty annoying... Like she hadn't had this kind of workout before!
"Oof..."
>When they open again, she casts a long glance towards the couch...
>Chisan's voice draws her glance. She begrudgingly starts to undo the chin strap and loosens the face mask with one hand while the radio ping makes her quarter-turn vaguely towards North-West, before refocusing on Chisan's HORRENDOUS-looking carapace and dead Auspex.

>Lazily taking off her helmet with her off-hand, she puts it under her arm and steps a bit more to Chisan's side, staring at him attentively.
>In response to his look, she widen her eyes with excitement at his combination of words.
>Visibly, the Enginseer's mechadendrite starts to wiggle up and goes a little over her own stomach while her biological hands do a little eager childish clap.
"Oooh I can't wait how THAT works!!"
>With a little up-and-down wiggle, Mallia settles down as she mouths a pained 'ouch' and steps back to quietly massage at the back of her neck...

>Then just stares at the Stormtrooper, anticipating whatever question he may have for her. A lingering, slightly weakened but still genuine smile on her face and she still had a glint in her eyes, even despite the wince stuck to her face as she began to roll her shoulder...

>But also, she looks at Raindrop. Watching her, barely, tap on the stone, and then flinching a little from the flat-eye thing that appears next.
>The shock lasts barely a second, quickly replaced by a squinted look of curiosity.
>She doesn't really say anything until it disappears. Then she takes a couple steps to Raindrop.

>She keeps her facing towards Raindrop, walking backwards from the Pagoda while talking. Stopping just at the edge of it, just under the sun.
"I'd offer you something but I'm poor. Something nice to ear or drink Or..."
"Or a niiice~ flower."
>Mallia's eyes visibly dart, her mechadendrite resting over the flak helmet she was holding onto.
"Like I don't--have a way to--"
>She turns around, looks around into the Fortress for a spell, and then does a 180 spin to look back at the pegasus knight.
>Clumsily stumbling about half-a-step while wincing from the tremendously sore muscles she had right now, but that doesn't deter her.
"--You know, thank you! For keeping me safe. For my first day."
>She chuffs out a breath, resting her free hand on her thigh as she suppresses the urge to sit down for a while. Casting another errant glance towards the rest of the fortress.
>Still a bit wary from the last Construct encounter.

(... How safe is this fortress anyway?...)

[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12] <Imperial Throne Stash
Razorback Fortress: The Library
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351127
351144
>>351100
"Cutting every figurative cord-"
>Dropping cognition notes instead of saving progress and files, the multitude of tiny screens hurriedly ripple off the helmet's interior.
>Shutting the unit down and making your best time straight south, bypassing the Pagoda you overhear a familiar Lunar Guard Gryphoness, Perlann, haggling with Naliyna.
>Putting that out mind to reach the Library, slamming the front doors open you find General Kalatrine jumping off a couch to your right, fumbling a book in the air while she lands.
"BUCK-"
>Recovering swiftly and placing the fanciful volume down with a sharp whistle, her crystalline helmet turns in your direction, then rotates to gaze out the north windows.
"Targets where?"
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351128
351138
>>351116
>Wild's cartoon eye stares upwards while stating in a flat, sigh-laden tone.
"They are invasive as a necessity. Rapid surgical treatment and health concerns are a primary focus. I'll ask three times, politely, before committing to an internal investigation but when I do find evidence of internal injuries or damage I WILL be invasive."
>It was at least another conciliation.
>Pointing the marker back at you, the tip shakes several times.
"I was not speaking of cultural, military, or civil laws. Your existence does not abide by the same laws that the inhabitants of this world do. You are able to use the aspects of being Otherworldly to cause affects and effects that native sapients may not. ...I will explain more later once I have reconnected to my primary databanks. Let's change the topic-"
>Pointing out a small, expanding ring labeled 'Tidal Impact Zone' on the left screen, it travels inland roughly half a kilometer before disappearing.
"My estimates of waveform calculations were correct. The Crag Moors features a large shoreline from ten to thirty meters in height and one hundred to two hundred meters in depth. If the second and further waves are similar to the first they will not damage inhabited locations in this region. Disrupting of local flora and fauna should be minimal."

>Freezing at a stressed electronic sound, the mini-Wild slaps her forehead before giving up.
"..my options are extremely limited based on time and I am now aware of multiple metallic stresses across some of my delicate components. I'll... to not keep botching my self-repairs. The current map to your left is currently up to date."
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10]
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #8

>Displaying a small object on the right screen's upper corner, it looked like.. a bunch of slim, highly detailed tentacles.
>Oddly sexual ones, at that.
"Would this be appropriate to produce as a potential trade good should we come across local inhabitants?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
170351e
?
No.351129
351135
>>351124
>Perfect.

"Fucking tell me about it, apparently I can become an admiral by the end of the night."
>With a snort, Bubba bid him farewell and stepped out, heading over to the Pagoda.
>Might as well save the thing from Peach before it begs to die.

>Entering the Pagoda, he'd take a quick look around before locating the two, Bubba silently wondered if Naliyna would have even more of a stroke tonight due to what was now happening.
>Standing at ease, Bubba was content with watching as he observed the two, focusing more on the shifter.
>Bubba idly nodded, looking over 'Tawi' again, but with an icy gaze.
>That was not fun to deal with.
"Definitely not sorry I hit you with a fucking rocket, then."
>He glared down at her, debating on just having Peach kill them and be done with it.
"So, since I wasn't here for twenty questions, how long have you been at Razorback? And are there any other creatures like yourself here?"
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351132
351286
>>351126
'dont take my words the wrong way Mallia. what i am most concerned of is Flash taking offense to myself interacting with a thrice holy being. the descendants of Princess Celestia are hallowed sons and daughters'
'THAT is what you were afraid of!? Andronal, you are the most thick-headed idiot, not even an Ogryn would make such a stretch of imagination! Enginseer Mallia Castella, I hereby formally ask that you complete Tox-11's Warform before mine and sanction it to be reproductively compatible with local equines! Consider that a request on behalf of my position!'
>The umbrage and fury in Witch-Two's datatone was enough to silence the Guardsman into a state of logic-looping errors.
>Immediately after, a tiny engram ping from the Inquisitor simply reads as: 'Request Sanctioned Eternis by order of Ordo Chronos Inquisitor Velasi 'Flash' Aguinas, 25998TD-STM38.'

>Scanning through the unusual file structure, little of which was encrypted, as the data dump was in progress you note the local system was a functionally simple, if massive, branching tree diagram.
>Utilizing a simplified cross-referencing catalogue, folders were marked by simple biological, chemical, regional, and far more selections, then pared down to a simplistic yet robust comprehensive terminology search data program.
>Rather than using standard hardstock archival data methods that required one to physically read through vast reams, links from subject to recorded data were extensively used throughout the structure itself, allowing one to peruse or locate specific information throughout an entire datastack.
>One that you noted was the equivalent of an entire, uncorrupted, datadaemon free Noosphere.

'You may contact her when desired Mallia, but be advised Flash is incapacitated. Outside of high priority requests such as my previous one it is likely to take one to ten local minutes to receive a response.'

>Giving you a slow once-over, Raindrop's eyebrows raise in suspicion as she takes a wide legged stance to perform her own stretching.
"Don't know much about that process.. but if you feel like it there's a bunch of that jog around the Fortress exterior every night after dusk and the Arena is a popular place to do exercises. There's weights for humans and heavy saddlepacks for ponies, not that I need to work out much."
>Cracking a grin at Chisan's hopelessly lost tone, he simply gives the Free Knight a desolate expression, then makes a short motion towards the northwest.
"The Inquisitor was unable to provide an explanation I could udnerstand. Enginseer, you will find an... object in the Workshop under the central forge-table close to the Armory entrance. It is slightly damaged but in passable shape. I assume it will require vast amounts of raw and refined materials to, as stated: 'build itself out'."
>Lifting his non-gauntlet hand to rub his forehead, the Scion continues in puzzlement.
"An autonomous foundry from the Lathe Worlds perhaps? No, the naming convention is not similar. I will return shortly with the device."
>Clicking his boots together and halfway through a formal salute, the Storm Trooper's face indicates total defeat.
>Making a short, off hand Imperial codelingo of 'will return short time', he nods at Raindrop, albeit stiffly, then marches out of the Pagoda towards the north.

>Belatedly realizing that wasn't sun light, and was far too bright red, upon looking up you're greeted with a welcoming bright moon, similar to the one orbiting Terra though much, MUCH larger.
>Which was currently delivering a bright yet comfortable red light, more than enough to see quite well by.
>Clopping forwards out of the Pagoda, Raindrop glances up as well, then flicks her ears with a soft chuckle.
"I don't know if that's right. Naliyna told me all humans in Razorback are supposed to carry at least a thousand Bits around at all times. Bits are Equestria's currency by the way. Silver coins are worth small amounts, gold are medium, and platinum ones are high.'"
>Glancing back to see, and hear, the Vostroyan predecessor squad comforting Sergei in the middle of an existential crisis, the raspberry pegasus snorts tiredly, then returns to wriggle here eyebrows playfully at you.
"What if I wanted to give you flowers before buying you a nice dinner, hmmm? I'm supposed to be taking of you, not the other way around."
>Lacking knowledge of her species' tells and not knowing her poninality, that might have been a joke.
>Or possibly not.
>Stretching her left wing forwards to scratch behind the same side's ear, Raindrop's muzzle breaks into a wide grin.
"Tell you what. Instead of thanking me for doing this job that I'm really starting to like, you take me wherever you want to go and I'll send an order for the best I can think of food. I did get paid up front by Naliyna and Krinza hasn't asked for a single coin to do repairs so it's my treat tonight."

>Examining what you could see from here, several dozen small wood and steel reinforced semi-turrets, a three-person garrison type with a rotating top section and two lower hatches, had been installed since you left.
>Definitely not an STC but would make for an interesting design to tinker with.
>Every building except for the Pagoda itself had two, north and south, or east and west, gleaming reflections off barrels, all, pointed upwards giving little doubts as to the extremely recent safety concerns being addressed.

>Recalling that you kept a few gold Imperial Thrones locked inside the Mechanicus Maintenance Kit, they had been taped inside the armored compartment layer.
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351134
351137
depositphotos_140697728-stock-photo-vial-filled-with-colored-liquid.jpg
>>351087

>"Still around, eh?"
>He thought to himself as he observed the two injured Operators. His vision blurred for a moment as his mind went back to the very beginning where it was himself and the hundred other humans who first came to this new world under Celestia's machinations.
>Blinking, he snapped out of his quick stupor.
>This wasn't the time nor place to reminisce.

>Safe and comfortable in Tipsy's seat he gave the seal a few pats before turning his attention to Tacit.
"Yes, seals are universally wholesome and adorable. No matter what world they're from apparently."
>Hearing the operating doors swing open to reveal Nova immediately distracted Lont, however.
"Ah, Nova go-"
>Seeing the two staring each other down he silenced himself as to not interrupt, though clearly Nova was winning at the moment.

>And while those two were drilling holes into each other with their very eyes he surveyed the Clinic, trying to find what could help the Earth pony. That is until he remembered the pink vials.
>He clicked his tongue with indecision.
>"I think I will play it safe and use only one vial."
>Thought Lont, deciding on committing a singular crime, for now, if it meant saving Tacit.
>Getting onto one knee he went and carefully grabbed a vial from the hardcase. With it in hand he checked to see if Tacit was still floating in the air or in a bed by now. And more importantly if the two mares were done with their contest.
Razorback Fortress: South of The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351135
351293
>>351129
>Nostrils flaring proudly, Peach Drop rocks forwards to stand up, taking several steps backwards and giving a winged 'bow' towards the shifter.
"All yours~!"
>Visibly shrinking away from you, Tawi coils into a laughably weak protective sphere.
>Except for not seeing the object Peach described, the Planar creature was virtually defenseless.
>Waiting five seconds after you speak, the small mass of bundles slowly reforms itself into an earth pony, her 'head' fitfully contracting in slow motions.
"If.. there aren't any like me that I've found. Most of my kin in the Vortex are long gone. Can I explain from when you started, er, ma'am?"
"Yes, you may. Tell everything."
"...okay. Um. I was awake when Moon told the the Watch Guard earth ponies she'd captured Stalliongrad that they had to keep their weapons with them and stay in their armor. They also had to keep some sort of eye around them but I never saw any. If they didn't she couldn't ensure they would be safe."
>Raising a small bundle at Peach's stony face, Tawi continues on after a single wingclaw flick, the grassy-leaf voice rustling.
"I was tired so I asked one of her ponies to put me in my locket so I could sleep. That was two, three hours after dusk? One of the earth pony sigh-ons opened my locket and pulled me out of it. She said there was a huge creature they couldn't see or hurt and asked if I could help. I said I'd try and she put me on the desk so I could get all of my bundles back together. I had bigger ones then, ones made of strong metals."
>Lifting a tiny 'rope' made of plant fiber.
"She brought me out and set me down, said to look at everything. I figured since I'm Planar I could recognize it. Then-"
>Pausing as her 'voice' hitches, Tawi bends forwards into a near-praying stance.
"Earth ponies were dying all over, I couldn't see, feel, or hear what was killing them. Then a fire started in a north relic chamber, a flame pony ran out with some earth ponies, throwing fire everywhere. I saw a few shadows from a huge monster the flame pony was trying to hurt. Huge green claws, went through the earth ponies and their armor like they didn't exist. I couldn't think of a way to fight it and the pony that woke me up said to hide. I turned into one of those creatures with spheres on their tail, like this-"
>Spasming in a severe contraction, the shifter rebuilds itself into the close approximation of a common fluffrat.
"Then she shoved me into a fire pit that didn't have burning wood inside it. Waited in there eight, maybe ten minutes. They.. all I could hear was screams and bodies falling. Waited a while, don't know how long. When I went out I tried to find a pony that was alive. They were all in pieces. Dead. Sometimes I get stuck in a body outside my locket and I can't change shapes or voice."
>Returning to the miniature earth pony approximation, Tawi frowns downwards.
"I can't sleep outside my locket so I waited, I.. ..I watched everything burn down. I loved living there. I knew every pony and space."
"When I was digging around for my locket five little minotaurs came in. They searched for a while, I'm guessing ten minutes. One of them found it but he wouldn't open it no matter what I tried. He didn't so I.. was really mad. Then they killed the flame pony."
>Thinking back on what DIDN'T go into the report, that had to have been Pikeman's fuck up since those that went were quite strict on what happened, especially Pareidolia.
"I followed the human here hoping he'd put the locket down so I could bring it to a pony and have them open it. Didn't find it for a few nights so I stayed here. Found lots of stuff I could make bundles with, and one of the weird ponies that I haven't seen for a while made this big place under ground I could slip into and sleep in. I.."

>Holding a wing up and shushing the shifter, Peach Drop gives you a raging expression.
"Bubba... I think we have a witness."
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351137
351199
>>351134
>The Vet continues staring at the ceiling, his lips moving in slow motions.. counting numbers.
>Definitely on some heavy painkillers.

>As Farezith and Nova Flicker begin to make absurd faces at each other, you recognized the battle as to whom had the more refined marshmallowly expressions.
>Every possible combination of scrunch, cheek shift, and silly eyes tried, Nova having much more experience through Malyne and gaining the lead quickly.
>Losing at the Ward's semi-passable mixed balloon puffer fish and squishy cheeked face, the Matron tosses her head up at the ceiling to give a defeated sigh.
"You have assuredly won, daughter of a certain mare. I forfeit my previous words."
"I have little to do with my dam these nights, honored elder. She is little capable of her former logic."
"I.. see. Give her the regards of my kin, if you would."
"I shall. Be of Rime and wind, honored elder."
>Dipping her head in a ceremonial surrender, the ocular abomination of a Crystal mare turns sharply to, quietly, make her way to the door, though stops to give you a humored 'I tried my best, oh well' expression.
"Be of care to all, Lion. I shall inform the Conclaves that all are given the right to trade with Razorback yet of much time will it take for most to respond."

>As the Clinic door closes, Nova Flicker spies the pink vial in your hand.
>Doing nothing to stop your approach to the still earth pony next to the Vet's bed, she sniffs once in a nasally marener.
"If you will give that to him ensure he swallows it and do hold your breath. Ambrosia is beyond potent, the merest scent is enough to flatten a young dragon."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351138
351141
>>351128
>Three times is better than nothing, I supposed.
"That'll... Do for now, Wild."
>Deciding to move on from the topic of invading medical tendrils, I shift a little.
"That might be best. It's starting to hurt my head."
>A brief pause.
"Not literally."

>Letting out a sigh of relief at the news, I give her a warm smile.
"That's good to hear. Hopefully they don't get bigger after the first wave, eh?"
>I feel like I just gave someone bad luck.

"You're doing fine, Wild. I believe in you."
>Pausing at the sight of the tentacles, I resist the urge to palm my face.
"I... Don't know?"
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351141
351184
>>351138
>Rolling the mechanical eye in your direction, the Wild cartoon partially deflates.
"I'm trying, mom. Resources are limited and my self-repair capabilities are greatly reduced. I have to keep thinking on other subjects rather than letting my mental state break down."
>Another conciliation.
>Maybe.
>Motioning at the map once more, a number of dots and circles on the far western edge are denoted, small yellow lines indicating traveled paths.
"The closest outpost is the last link of what I think is a trade chain that reaches across the Western Crag Moors region."
>Showing the eastern side briefly, a similar number appear.
"Same for the Eastern Crag Moors."
>Returning to the west side, Wild points the marker at a number of medium sized black dots indicating heavily scattered small villages and tiny towns northwards.
"If the maps from Father Caliya and Father Kraut are correct, there are no translocation units within a six hundred mile radius, however-"
>Expanding outwards once more, a single large black dot surrounded by a purple ring, incredibly far to the west, is highlighted in red.
"That is Cairn Wharf, a large trading and cultural center approximately ten days travel overland from our current location. I do not have information regarding status or inhabitants at current, but if I can recover more databanks and nodes there should be some data from Father Caliya on the region and inhabitants. It is listed as having multiple translocation units; four medium, one large. A large variant is capable of translocating me."
>Pointing to a line of smaller villages northeast from the town, Wild taps the map, making an amusing crinkled paper sound.
"Alternatively these eight locations contain small and possibly medium sized translocation units. If I can decouple my head unit I would be able to return with you to Razorback Fortress for repairs and overhaul."
>That was QUITE unlikely given how hated Eldritch beings were in Razorback, though Wild obviously didn't know the fact.
"Addendum: my legs have been restored to eighty-one-point-five efficiency. Now restoring secondary repair systems-"
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #8

"I have been able to confirm that tidal wave actions will not impact the local region negatively. The Ferron pegasi encountered before was inhabiting a wooden outpost approximately sixty meters above ground in a large tree. It is highly unlikely local inhabitants will experience difficulties but I will attempt to solidify my theorums."
[1d6 = 6] <U.Cartography
[1d6 = 1] <U.Geography
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Sensory Node #2

>Beyond the palm, your 'familiarity' with the rather open sexual endeavors of ponies in the Fortress, outside of your herd of two that is, gave you an idea:
>IF that wasn't a representation and was an actual object capable of certain.. functions, mares would pay quite hoofsomely for objects capable of satisfaction.
>How absolutely degenerate of them.
>But potentially profitable if the circumstances are right.
Clemency
!UbatCJ0.6s
6b058ed
?
No.351142
351149 351496
>>351073
>>351107
>Hearing the all-familiar shriek and rumble, Clem turns his eyes to the impact zone
>He sees the blinding laser, faded by his visor tint, briefly illuminate the area before seeing a massive explosion of steam and energy
"Holy shit..."
>His awe was cut short by the Construct icons moving and updating
>Curiousity turned to concern as he read "symbiote" and sees the icons move towards their respective targets
>Including him
"Jeff, those Constructs are reading as Rift-Symbiotes. New. And one is heading for me and the other to Mercy. I need to get a better look on it."
>Clemency goes for the nearby stairwell on the side of the hostel and starts to get to the roof of the hostel
>Referencing the direction of the pagoda and the Construct's position, he starts looking for the symbiote

[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <Expert Perception
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6 = 2] <Radar

>Clemency looks down towards Jeff
"Gotcha. However, I think this thing is just going to come after me. I'll still make a run for the pagoda though."
>Floating down from the roof and landing near Jeff, he looks at the path between him and the pagoda and tries to determine the best route possible
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351144
351146
>>351127
"There was a Construct arm and weapon in my pack. Did you or yours remove it during treatment? If it escaped on its own and is active, it needs to be eliminated. There were also two inactive hulls in the basement."

>Placing his left hand over the grip of the pinksteel biteblade sheathed on the front of his vest, he continues forward to the reading room.
[If it lives, show me.]
>He would open the door to peek inside and look for any traces of disturbance.
[Can only hope it somehow fell out near here.]
Razorback Fortress: The Library
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351146
351153
>>351144
>Squinting at the windows, the younger General's ears flap against her helmet armor, glancing to you with a partially visible mollified stare.
"No? It was inactive and displayed no resonance so we left it in your saddlepack. I can assure you that the fillies and colt did not touch it either. As for the.."
>Humming briefly, Kalatrine blinks at the runes before her, tone puzzled.
"The three below, two large and one I can barely sense are still destroyed. One is certainly disrupted and should not repair, the other one.. drained? How did th- never mind, there are no equations emanating from it. I don't understand that but the miniscule variant is equally dead."

>Opening the door leading down to Spiral's lab, the stairwell was clear except for splashes of since dried blood earlier from Flash's escape.
>Vaguely pulling towards the north and a touch down, the pinksteel blade is barely responsive, directing itself at where the Marquis' hostile or legally ambiguous research items had been kept sealed.

>Taking several heavy steps in your direction, the Warden General's armor creaks as her head swivels back and forth.
"Thansimum reports no activity from the alchemy lab save for a large number of unusual relics being shouted at by a unicorn in the nextroom. She has been there for the past two hours. Garnelia reports no Planar related incidents except a few minor enchantmarents carried by humans. I have been here checking on the fillies and colt."
Budieca
The L.O.N.T GM
9fedfaf
?
No.351147
351193
>>350386

>Her body was in a bad shape, and needed medical assistance to fully recover as soon as possible.

>With the tray now carrying filled glasses of water the Gryphoness made her way to Sand Cutters side with care as to not to spill any of the water.
"I...what?"
>She asked in confusion at Sand Cutters words. With an unsure look writ upon her feathery features she continued, latching onto the information she only truly knew.
"The Bastard was the previous Warlord and ruler of the Vale, his name was Servit. Ugh, even now saying his name makes me sick. He and is Enforcer lover were horrid creatures that allowed the Vale to fall into squalor."
>She told Sand Cutter, her tone was contemptable but it was clearly not directed at the equine.
"Then he died a death that was too lenient for him, if it were not for the humans I do not know where we would be. Certainly a worse position than where we are in now."
>She said confidently, beaked face and body mannerisms brightening up.

>With the glass taken from her Budieca stood up, and went to put the tray on a small table. Once it was set aside the Gryphon listened to the pony, and in doing so let her eyes wonder over Sand Cutter. She taking in her devastated body as she recalled recent events.
"You're talking about the ill fated expedition. What a shitshow that was."
>She shook her head.

>By the time Sand Cutter was finished speaking Budieca was laying on the ground, her forelegs crossed. Her wings were hanging limp from her sides as a sign of sympathy towards the pony even though her expression was as warm as the interior of this tower. Apart from the crackling fire and occasional thumping noise coming from higher up in the tower it was silent as the Gryphoness digested what she heard.
"You.."
>She started, her voice low and careful.
"You have been through a lot, body and soul. I humbly request you stay here for a while to rest, eat, sleep or whatever else will help you. In fact if you were to wait here Warlord Ri'Vahz will come eventually-"
>She coughed.
"Come down eventually."
>Pointing a talon at the pony she continued.
"If you were to attempt to climb to the castle in your condition you will perish, and it would really annoy the Warlord if you were to die such a way as it will plague her with guilt. So please, rest here for a while. "We even have spare nestbeds for you to rest upon!"
>She said, raising a wing to indicate the warm interior of the first floor of the tower.
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Have Arrived, Post #1/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351149
351151 351196 351481 351496
>>351107
>Slightly crouching into a familiar pre-teleport stance, the mare's eyes lock to yours.
"Confirmed: Code Red, Basin Village, Immediate Quick Reaction Force, Imminent Tainted Overrun. Authorization: Juliet Delta Alpha Mike Zero One. If that is all I will return shortly-"
>Glancing up once, the Lunar Villager sniffs at the Moon, then streaks apart into a purple cloud.
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11] <Rally: Direct-Line Teleport
[1d6+7 = (6+7) = 13]
[1d6+7 = (1+7) = 8]
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10]

>Catching the three Tainted Mass between their own trio, Marshmallow Moon and the two partial Hunter-Killer squadrons smash through the opposition.
>Sustaining few injures except for Moon receiving a number of deep lance marks on her barrel and chest, the Hunter-Killers taking solid bruises, they pay little attention to Luna's descendant bowing at her previous opponents.
>Nearly losing the floppy pink hat, she grabs it with a hoof and tosses it into a slim silver portal, pulling out a fancy bright white and red trimmed Neighsian Admareal's cap.
>Placing that on her head and spinning around halfway as the squadrons tiredly wing north, the tall mare's snout wiggles.
>Taking a deep breath, Marshmallow breaks into a double skip towards the Lunar Hostel, all the while whistling the notes to an archaic Dusk Strider warsong.
[1d6 = 5] <???

>Turning north at a slow walk, the batfilly stops, head swiveling right and up at you with a merrily fanged grin.
"That's great to know, but hay, if you see an Argus again could you try to capture it? Mom says the Repair models make really neat weapons and armor, but I think one of the huge Command models would make better things."
>Flicking her right claws in a wave and turning away, the Deep Moorite pauses to nod.
"Yup. I didn't catch her name sorry, was too busy trying to keep track of-"
>Hefting the satchel of tiny manabombs hanging on her left wing, then pointing three claws at you, calling over her shoulder while clopping northwards once more.
"Which of these are still good 'cause they're so old. I'll see you at the Great Mango in the Oceans Above if we get the chance to meet again!"

>Seconds after the Deep Moor filly breaks into a sashaying trot, an unexpectedly high pitched inhale-exhale and double explosion rings southwards.
>That was not a Fuel-Air Bomb you knew of.

>>351142
>Hearing the sinister triple detonation of flash-vaporized water turning into an overpressure explosion, you nearly wince until realizing it wasn't aimed at you.
>Power jogging across the Lunar hostel's front to the west stairs leading up, upon reaching the top you sight an orange streak halfway from the fountain to you:
>Resembling some form of giant pistol, then a small shotgun, and constantly rotating between both, the internal radar screen shuts down most icons in favor of consolidating only the gold VIP icon, the turqoise VIP icon, and numerous bright blues denoted as 'Basin Village Defense Forces'.
>Nearing the Lunar hostel the Unknown Construct icon is relabeled as 'Construct Bio-Symbiote: Type Clemency' in a distinctly blue friendly icon with a thin orange ring around the outside.
>Jolting upwards with no apparent engines or sound to meet you at barely 5M away, the mass ceases moving and turns bright green.
>Shaping itself first into a near-replica of your .45, it maintains that shape for five seconds, then a SPAS-12, five second pause, then a large framed revolver.
>Rotating through the selection twice, it then returns into sphere shape, deploying a faint orange light directly at your chest.
[1d6 = 5] <Merge: Biotechnological Symbiosis
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Have Arrived, Post #2/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351150
351151 351196
>Lann's Doll & Clothing Shop:
>Failing to convince Mercy into doing more than making one or two line sentences, Boris emits a stone-cracking sigh.
>For her part, the Primal Psion was ignoring the golem and Spirit Walker, instead studying Sunny's tactical overlay on the map spread across Lann's counter.
>Paying zero attention to the dozens of empty shelves and tables that her kin had come to the Village to purchase, along with massive amounts of fruit, the roughly voiced mid-50's mare was calmly denoting the arriving forces that accepted her first summons, her initial shock at seeing Mercy since faded.
"East Ocean Moors Militia are clear, approximately one fifty. Second Dynasty Support Strikers are clear, approximately four hundred. Watch Guard close combat division is clear, approximately four hundred. Half of the Councilierge's Assault Vanguard battalion has arrived, other half in transit. Their support mares are bringing translocation matrice from Stalliongrad, fifteen small, eight medium, two large."
>Boris speaks up, still rubbing Mercy's lower neck in a thoroughly useless attempt to keep her sane.
"What is the status on defensive fortifications? The Basin itself is wide open should Tainted be capable of flanking maneuvers."
>Hearing a new round of thumps from logs, castoff stones, and other heavy debris filling gaps between buildings.
"Fifty percent height and eighty percent length achieved. I have ordered them to begin searching the outer band of swamps shortly for additional material. The majority will be earth ponies, of course, they will not be able to flank if fortifications are completed in time thus forcing a defensive fight here and here."
>The Primal's burning green eyes shift between both white pegasus once, then motions at the south and north roads marked with two short pieces of yellow string, stabbing a steel pin above the north entrance.
"The esteemed and honored Conclave Killknight shall take the north road alone. Any living being within thirty meters of her will die in short order. It is not impossible that she may die but she has chosen to face rear flanking Tainted alone. Ninety-five percent of ground combatants will face south to take advantage of Support Striker lines WHEN, not IF, said lines collapse. A successful defense will require eight thousand Support Strikers to die holding the southern line, five hundred will face north."
>Placing numerous buttons buttons on the top of each building, the Primal grits her teeth, easily heard under the silver helmet.
"however there will be pegasi and pseudo-unicorns of sufficient numbers. Were the Tainted still in their Mass forms and not the giant variety those would be of little consequence."
"Three thousand earth ponies must be available to countercharge Tainted whether breaking through or regrouping. Equal psions, unicorns, and pegasi must hold the roottops at a ten to one advantage minimum. Remember: these are not the Mass type, those are comprised of two to ten ponies. They are comprised of ten ponies that were once living mares of Luna's Lost Legions. Take ten ponies and put them together, that is what we face. At current our numbers will be sufficient to hold against eighty. Now, your advice?"

>Numbly speaking first, Mercy's flat white eyes glance over the map once before closing.
"Support Strikers must hold the lines. Watch Guard.. if they will arrive."
[1d6 = 6]
>Looking up from the dead-inside Spirit Walker, Boris makes his belligerent title known.
"The Day Guard host large numbers of specifically unicorn divisions suitable for medium to long ranged bombardmarent with support capabilities. If all else fails they will be able to close range shield themselves. Outside of the Ferron there are not enough pegasi battalions to hold against known aerial combatants."
[1d6 = 5]
"And you, Sunny?"
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351151
351196
>>351149
>>351150
>Watch Guard General:
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Reclaim Routed

>Basin Defense Preparations:
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Eastern Moors Militia
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Second Dynasty: Support Strikers
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12] <Watch Guard: Combat Division

>Support Striker Battalions:
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Unit #1
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Unit #2
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Unit #3
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Unit #4
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Unit #5
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Unit #6
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Unit #7
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Unit #8
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11] <Unit #9
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <Unit #10

[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Conclave Killknight: Rime

[1d6 = 6] <Basin Sacrifice
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351153
351155
>>351146
>Upon hearing that at the very least there was no risk of any further Construct activations, Pareidolia releases his grip on his knife.
>Sighing in frustration, he curls his gloved hands against each other.

[Not enough time for this mess. Can't ascertain location, possible interference from unknown parties.]

>He turns to face Kalatrine.
"I see... Thank you for the confirmation. If any of you come across or manage to find the arm and weapon, you're free to take it with you. The same goes for one of the hulls in the basement. Consider it salvaged wreckage. I'm sure your technicians can utilize newer model microscopes than what's here to far greater effect."
>Reaching into a front vest pocket, he fishes out the marble sized Construct and hands it off to her.
"This was what formed while I was attempting to study a small sample of their internal fluid. I've never heard of any Constructs this size, but you should take it with you. Construct aggression is only going to increase and it will be more useful to yours than to me."

[Spiral's retrieval takes precedence. Best chance of finding an ally in ideals.]
Razorback Fortress: The Library
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351155
351156
>>351153
>Reaching up to tap her chest plate, General Kalatrine's gaze turns from you to the play room, then back.
"My InterPony isn't detecting Constructs in the vicinity as well. Our orders are still to fully destroy all Construct material located or uncovered should they still be capable of producing equations. And, you have an Empire micrscope? What model is it may I ask?"
>Stepping forwards to within a half meter, the older Warden leans in to sniff once, twice-
>Then, much too slowly, slowly leans back and lifts her head up to meet your probable gaze with a flat expression behind the helmet.
"...while you were recuperating, the three of us rotated inspections every five minutes. That.. has the same precise scent as you. I cannot tell a difference between it and you."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351156
351158
>>351155
>He nods in response to her question.
"A Tundra Crystalworks type four dash B. Not designed for human use."

>As she sniffs at the miniature Construct for an unusually long amount of time, his brow furrows.
>He moves his head back ever so slightly with a twinge of annoyance at the remark of 'inspections' before raising the orb incredulously between his face and hers.
"This has the exact same scent as me. By smell alone, you would be unable to identify it as a Construct?"
Razorback Fortress: The LIbrary
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351158
351163
>>351156
>Side eye peering down at the chest plate, the outline of a Crystal pony trots across to the center, sitting down and shrugging.
>Kalatrine's tail flicks in annoyance, exhaling heavily through her mask.
"Not one you can use hm? Figures it'd be that old. Ask Naliyna to send for a Four Hundred Series B dash IP kit, there's a few Consortiums that make and repair those models still."
>Nodding in assent, the General hums to raise the snout mask for a closer sniff, then deeply inhales towards your chest.
>Snorting out and shutting her eyes tight, Kalatraine rocks back on her hooves again.
"I can't differentiate. Smells exactly you. I.. hold on. Hay-"
>Glancing down to eye her plate again, a low series of rumbling question-like sounds are given, the outline pantomiming a number of negative gestures.
"She's never heard of this either. Maybe that's why most Constructs destroy themselves?"
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351163
351165
>>351158
>Pareidolia's expression darkens with confusion and a twinge of anger.
[Absurd. Did I introduce material to the sample? How-why is this a property of the fluid?]

"It.. must have made contact with my skin at some point and altered its entire make up to match mine somehow. I don't understand why or how it could do this given what I saw of the active fluid. Their self-destruction may make more sense, but why they haven't altered or taken advantage of this property only begs more questions."

>Pressing his free gloved hand against his helmet in annoyance, he shakes his head.
>His other hand puts the apparent Construct copy of himself back into a vest pocket.

"I don't have any time to research this matter now, but thank you for the additional information."

>He would then turn to leave the Library and head for his room in the barracks.
Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351165
351215
>>351163
>Puffing her cheeks in thought, Kalatrine settles for giving a discontent shrug.
"If that's a sample size I have to wonder what an intact hull would exactly. And.. maybe that's the point: what if corruption goes both ways, we infect them, they infect us? Otherwise why would they destroy themselves rather than surrender?"
>Low whistling at the InterPony, it tosses a rigid salute before fading off her crest, her snout twitches in thought.
"Considering how often Thansimum, Garnelia, and I have dealt with them, I'm not sure they think at all. Act and react, sure. They do communicate but nopony understands their language or ciphers. ..there is a mare every military seems to want tracked down except for us. Small earth pony, bunch of piercings, weird scar, supposed to be the only real expert on Constructs. I'll see if I can find out more on her."
>Smiling while the mask portion slips down and locks into place, the older mare lifts her shoulders apologetically.
"You are welcome. Sorry I'm not much help, usually deal with destroying them and removing corruption instead of studying. I'll order one for you anyhow, they're only fifty BIts or so. Consider it a partial repaymarent for the trouble we caused tonight. After that I'm going to examine on that batpony in stasis, you might have given me some new leads to examine."

>Investigation:
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <M.Crystal Runes
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]

>Returning north and heading towards the Pagoda, Perlann and Naliyna were in the process of shoving an obscenely heavy black altar into the space across from her stall.
>Going around to avoid potentially getting roped in to help, a number of Bren's recently developed heavy turrets were being set up and deployed while her crew was staking out a large number of locations, presumably for newly completed buildings.
>Entering the barracks and finding the den empty, upon reaching your door you find a small notice posted on it.
>Taking it off and reading Emerald's writing style, it was an advisory not to travel anywhere with wide open spaces due to numerous species of large raptors termed 'Shrikes', once thought extinct, being sighted across Tallus.
>The bottom line states telling the Vortex Remnant to scout ahead was advisable.
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351184
351202
>>351141
"I know hon, I'm just... Not exactly well versed in advanced topics."
>Unfortunately.
"But I do appreciate that you're working to adjust that to my level."
>Blinking a little, I shift and lean forward again.
"I've at least heard of Cairn Wharf! I haven't personally been there before, but I do know that Razorback is welcome."
>Hopefully the eldritch being I'm inside won't be shot on sight.
"Might be a good idea to go that way after stopping by the outpost to get some supplies."

>I nod and give her a smile and pat the hull.
"I was hoping for at least seventy percent, so a bit over eighty is good. And its good to know that they're not going to be affected by the wave. Or waves."
>I didn't know how large a tidal wave like that could get to, though.

>Thinking for a moment, I let out a soft groan and shake my head.
>The ponies here are fucking weird.
"They... may be a decent trade good?"
Sand Cutter
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351193
351287
>>351147
>Relieved from the scratching in her throat though severely mollified at her ponial state, Sand Cutter's ears flop down with a subdued nod.
"Understand I do. Of time past Firsts of Stalliongrad called War Lords, hailed from Dynasty's Fall. Sundered the Untiring Dead long years, hoof, claw, lance, mace did they. Were it in place Razorback would aid my home city, recovered from corruption we may have been. Wide and treasonous were Lucky's words to sway hu`um against us, Earth-cursed wretch. An.. Enforcer?"
>Nudging herself a bit closer to the fire, Sand's ears twitch in recall, spinning around before giving a warm smile.
"A First Enforcer perchance? Shared Roses, the white Enchained? Beloved by foals within Stalliongrad she yet is, of sweet candy, lessons of history freely she offers. Corrupt of the Watch fear her, not even Primal of the Strikers dare speak in her presence. Earth and Sun bless his hooves, Stream Lark begged of her aid in downing the Circle of Thieves. Rogues they have not been in two centuries. Last of her my eyes lain was.."
>Biting her lips once, the mare squints briefly.
"Past our also ill fated Siege. Afore I had denounced the Outer Council, there was she at the rebuilt gallery of art. Spoke with Linara there I did, and.. Threx too. Of a cast down he was, her heart fallen as well. Sha'Ro orders of them odd, to aid Rebirth and Moon they must from gleaming Spire-city. No matter of them now, their plans crum.. torn apart."

"Would we aware and freed from the Earth-cursed, a Vigil I would asked to cleanse such lands. Little have I felt such powerful Undeath."
>Turning her head enough to meet Budieca's eyes and carefully stretch worn neck muscles, Sand's eyebrows curl in remorse.
"Were I a minute afore the young winged one would yet live. 'Would be' marely and many we suffer from, cures of I have none now."

>Eyes rotating upwards, the Knight's expression creeps into subdued annoyance, nostrils flaring at the noise.
>Glancing back down she freezes, then angrily flicks her ears straight up at the slip.
"Should I to be your second in challenge would she relent her.. taking of your mate? Is such not an offense?"
>Tracing Budieca's claw lines with one eye, she nods at the logic before glancing about with a disgusted look.
"Long would the Earth laugh at such a failure. Dis.. refuse, I shall not. A favor I ask, a warm bucket of water, the.. taint of lands away feel on my coat."
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.351196
351197 351502
1462322950312.png
>>351149
>>351150
>>351151
>Sunny gazed over the map for a long moment, considering a number of different deployments and field tactics, the good general wasn't painting a pretty picture, even if they did technically have numerical superiority.
>There were going to be losses no matter what she suggested, there had to be something that could be done to minimise their own and maximise the Tainted's.
>She muttered under her breath after an aery sigh.
"What I wouldn't give to have a single destroyer here right now..."
>Extending the point of a wingblade to the map, Sunny tapped near the edge of the southern most buildings.
"I concur with Mercy, the Support Strikers we have on hoof would be best, but I recommend limited engagement until we can use whatever material we can spare from the eastern and western fortifications to fortify a ground position here."
>She moves the point of her wingblade back approximately twenty meters back from the edge of the buildings.
"...To lessen how many Tainted can concurrently engage us on the ground. We hold the forward position for two, three minutes at most, or until casualties reach thirty percent of deployed forces. We withdraw the Strikers back, collapse Watch Guard units in behind them for an orderly withdrawal. From position two, we make them pay for the ground for another minute or two. That should buy Councilierge forces the time they need to deploy, assemble and engage here."
>She points to another position fifteen meters back from the second position.
"After another withdrawal."
>She looks to Boris.
"Boris, if you still have those explosives, I want you to oversee fortifying the second position and set charges within the barricades for maximum fragmentation, and detonate them on my order."
>She taps the third position again, looking back to the general.
"Once the Councilierge forces can engage, they can relieve the Watch Guard and Strikers we have for triage."
>Gesturing towards the rooftops either side of the southern road, Sunny continues.
"I recommend a mixed companeigh of Lunar and Day guard to interdict any airborne Tainted attempting to gain an elevation advantage, they won't like it, but those rooftops look to be sturdy enough to support only a companeigh each and now is not the time for their squabbling to deny us the advantage combined arms can give us. We may be able to make use of second floor positions as well. Lunars up front, Day guard unicorns behind for ranged fire support. With any luck, they'll be able to hold those positions long enough for us to reclaim ceded ground on the road and support us with magical bombardment."
>She taps the rooftops near the first and second positions.
"We can deploy the Lunar guard right now. The Day guard will take time to fully deploy, so Councilierge forces need priority so they can set up their matrices to increase our reinforcement rate."
>She touches the second position again.
"Once we're prepared to push forward, we detonate the second position barricades to interrupt their central ranks and begin bombardment. That'll give us the initiative to reclaim ground."
>She withdraws her wingblade from the map with a furrowed brow and a frown and a small shake of her head.
"That's the best I've got for the southern approach. There's a small platoon of Lunarites that came with us that would be a boon, but they're still behind the Tainted lines as far as I know. With any luck, the humans will be able to deploy suppression weaponry, but that's up to them."
>Sunny turns slightly to give a sidelong look to Mercy. Still shellshocked, she was no soldier and wasn't prepared for anything like this. She was torn on how to put Mercy to use here, she's a capable combatant, but too turbulent and worn to survive a battle like this. She may very well get herself killed and Razorback would lose a valuable resource, and yet her capabilities may end up being a deciding factor in how well the battle goes.
>She looks back to the primal psion and repeats herself.
"That's the best I've got, if you're in agreement or have any better ideas."
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.351197
>>351196
[1d6 = 4]
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351199
351210
>>351137

>They knew each one another? Certainly makes sense with how they interacted, then again ponies would be quite silly towards each other on the regular basis.
>At times they were both very human in alien form, this was not such an occasion.
>And then the Matron promptly left without having given Lont a chance to give a proper goodbye, or at the least offer to stay and eat something in the Mess Hall before returning to the Conclaves.
"She must be a busy mare I suppose."
>Lont said to the now still doors.

>Lifting up the vial to eye it then Nova the Operator nodded in understanding.
"Best be on standby in case I commit a grievous mistake in the coming moments."
>With that and an audible gulp, Lont began to administer the contents of the vial.
>He held his breath, nor did he dare blink as he teased droplets to fall into the open slack mouth of Tacit with one hand while the other massaged his throat so that they'd go all the way down..
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] >E.Alchemy +Citrine/Ruby Tablets +Ambrosia
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] >Adv. Onyx Tablet
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351202
351204
>>351184
"When access is restored to my major databanks I will teach you. I had at least fifty college level topics available."
>That sounded like a threat, but wasn't.
>Unless those topics were related to pony behaviors.
"I'm limited to this tertiary node's language capabilities, will try to stop using complex words."
>Sitting up and studying potential routes one last time, mini-Wild lifts an armored hand upwards to eagerly trace another.
"That is the third exceptionally good news I've had since being reborn! Do you know how Ferron outposts function, what they may have, and the numbers of inhabitants?"
>Pointing the marker at another, a small town in the middle of large bogs, she hesitates, then tosses the marker down with a sigh.
"No, we cannot reach Tidelock Bog without flying or teleporting. If I was fully repaired it might be possible to walk udnerwater. It's still six to seven days from here and there is no indication it has a medium translocation matrice, or even a small one."

>Antennae perking up, the cartoon version turns halfway and folds her arms.
"There will be another waveform reaching this location in approximately one minute. Based on previous calculations we will not experience undertow, assuming a one to five percent decrease of tidal wave actions. I.. wait, Natilda do you recall what caused the impact off shore? I'm unable to access that node."
>Reaching across the screen to grab the 'charm', Wild's mechanical face tightens in examination.
"Excellent. I will modify the design choice and produce a number of high quality variants. Update: My primary repair system is at eighty-percent efficiency, I'm going to, TRY, restoring the secondary node."
>Oh, the horror!
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Sensory Node #2

[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #8

"Scanning for local organics and cross-referencing previous data on Construct analysis capabilities. At this range I should be able to locate their intended destination or sensor usage."
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Arcanum Sensors Array
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351204
351206 351237
>>351202
"I mean, complex words aren't a problem, its just that English... Or Common, isn't my first language. Once someone explains what it means I'm able to understand it better."
>Glancing out of Wild, I stare into the dark water for a moment.
"It'll take me a bit, sure, but I do understand it after."
>Frowning a bit, I try to recall.
"Unfortunately no, but I'm sure I'd be welcome."
>Glancing over at the mini, I grimace.
"You being Eldritch, not so much... Though I'm sure that can be avoided with me explaining how you're NOT a threat and WON'T tentacle the locals."
>Staring at her mini form.
>Perhaps even with permission.

"It was a large.. Sphere, possibly Construct? All I could figure that it was about ten times the size of the Assault Lander."
>Grimacing at the idea, I shift.
"At least this far down we're safe... From the wave at least."
>Don't fucking mention the creatures possibly in the water.
Aiutante_the_Craftmare
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351205
351218
sadponer.png
>>351063
>The craftmare nods diligently, closing her notebook and setting it over at her work area.
"Well if you have any other ideas, I'm like sooo into how else my sigil work can be applied to human mechanicals. I have like so many ideas I got going on right now!"
>Aituante whinnies at the suited gestalt in offense, ears pinning back before puffing her chest out to defend her teacher.
"What evar, Mr. Anon. Hodch is just like... super private like that! He's never confided with me in his dealing with The Nightmare. I don't even know his real name, to be honest. But I know when he like... really believes and cares about something, especially you humans he puts his everything into it. So whatever he gets passes on has to count for something!"
>Her head dips a bit, distressed, a hoof scraping at the Workshop's floor anxiously.
"He won't tell me, probably so I won't worry, but I like... don't think he's well. He's been moving different. Slower, his gait is pained. He's more tired than usual. I thought it was his old injuries, but I think it's something more serious now..."
>A foreboding worry rushes over her face, before taking a deep breath and perks herself back up to rebubble her conversation. Waving a hoof at you dismissively.
"MMmmmm. Pfffsha, as if! I can't be trusted with his personal effects. In fact he initially asked me, and I had to like refuse!"
>The preppy pink mare leans up at Anon as far as she could without getting all up in his personal bubble.
"I'm like... a total gossip mare. If I didn't forget where I put them or just left them in the open, I'd totally blab to everypony what's inside."

>She listens patiently, as Anon explain the technological levels to her.
>She cranes he head to the side nodding at the mention of the sole psion, a shady look gleaming in her eyes.
"Okay, so a hoof-full of exceptions, but the ratio of humans that solely rely on technology is like ridiculous. Not that I mind. All your human gadgets are so cool and fun to examine. You wanna know a secret? A couple months after the Palace blew up, I was contacted by some Explorers at CCM to join a team to monitor you humans and places you've been. Ponies you interacted with. Whatever was like left in your wakes. Real spy shit. Master Hodch shut them down before I could give it much thought, not like I was interested at the time."
>Aiutante shrugs he shoulders at the last thought, getting back on track to the rest of the explanation.
"It is SO interesting the parallels most micro electronics have to some of the holo-stuff the Crystals work on. Where humans use electricity and wires and... micro... chips... transistors, batteries to program a computer, the crystal ponies use crystals to differentiate power flow, runes and crystalline nodes to I guess program commands into their holothingies. You both achieve the same result with different methods!"
>Her head spins at the implications of so many levels of societal updating.
"Omigosh are you talking about the orange mare that sneaks around in the vents? Ya, Mister Krinza told me about her. I catch her up there sometimes, when she totally doesn't think I'm looking. I tried saying hi a few times, but she's like... a total spaz! I leave her alone, she seems content that way."
>The last bit she nods at knowingly, like she's heard it plenty of times.
"I heard there was a lull for a while, and afterward a lot more humans aren't even like showing up here anymore. They're getting dumped and stranded in... other places on Talus."
Anonymous
254f2b3
?
No.351206
351237
>>351204
[1d2 = 2] >Golden Retriever Moment
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351210
351270 351274
>>351199
>Lips pursing to make a satisfied smile at defending her silliness honor, Nova shoots you a raised eyebrow complete with the right side of her lips pulling back.
"Throughout all pony lands and others that are Maretriarchal in nature, a Matron assumes far more duties than the Four Great Princesses combined. They are singularly responsible for all matters: acquisition and storage of food, medical supplies, reagents, alchemicals, treatmarent, weapons, armor, objects, items of interest, and all spaces dedicated for the prior. Then the matters of maintenance, roads, access, housing, storage buildings, beds, blankets, pillows, cookware, fresh food.... and far more that would take me an hour to consider are ever in their minds."
>Scuffing a forehoof on the Clinics floor, the carnelian mare sniffs aloud.
"Do not be forlorn Lont, it is little surprise a Matron of the honored Crystal Conclaves would return to her kin outside of an exceptional circumstance or situation. And, may I ask why she called you 'Lion'? Is that related to acrolines of the Moors and elsewhere? I presume you have met and rode upon those favored creatures batponies love so much. "

"I shall, though I know little of what sacred Ambrosia is able to perform."
>Preparing herself with a deep inhale and horn sparking in vibrant red, as you tilt the unconscious earth stallion's head with one hand and uncork the vial, the contents, unexpectedly, bubble.
>Loudly.
>Each drop elongates into a long, taffy-like drip of brightly roiling pink semi-liquid, acting more like a gelatin than a liquid.
>As Tacit responsively swallows five, ten, twenty.. your lungs start to strain, worriedly noting a cloud of nearly-corporeal pink-red mist starting to fill the air around you.
>At number thirty, the strain becomes a burn, your eyes starting to feel nothing more than sweet, cool relief.
>At number fifty, the burn becomes a forceful, choking pain, while your ocular regions feel positively refreshed, feeling as if they could remain open for hours on end.
>At number eighty the vial's contents are finally drained, the Ruling Councilierge releases a calm, warm exhale.
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <Ambrosia's Dreams
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Ambrosia's Laughter
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Ambrosia's Sleep

>Protected throughout by a shimmering cloud around her head, Nova Flicker's eyes turn from you to the thick pink mist in the Clinic.
>Trying to understand it for a few momarents, the Ward starts, stops, then starts again with a LOUD neigh of alarm.
"LONT THE MIST IS EVERYWHERE GET IN THIS BUBBLE RIGHT NOW!"
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <E.Reaction Speed
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <M.Casting: Permeable Shield
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351215
351216 351235
>>351165
>Pareidolia nods at Kalatrine as he departs.
[...Then why did those scout models at the Skykeep surrender? Frustrating lack of context. Need to seek out this expert earth pony eventually. If the retrieval operation is successful.]

>Making his way through the courtyard, he mentally notes the conversation with Kalatrine and the strange altar at the Pagoda.
>Briefly reading the note before pasting it back onto the door, he enters and ensures that all his belongings are where they should have been before resupplying his standard kit and armaments.
>Unslotting his A.I. main drive from the back of his helmet, he sets it on top of his dresser.
[Now would be the ideal time to attempt to improve this and reset the personality template before Spiral's template diverges any further. Can only hope that missing arm and weapon don't create another problem before I return.]
>He takes out the recently acquired silver wish disc and sets it on top of the drive. Printing the word "Improvement" onto the disc with a spare pen, he backs away warily.

[1d6 = 6] <Silver Wish Disc Improvement
[1d6 = 5]

[At least this should be more stable than random item procurement...]
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351216
>>351215
[1d2 = 2] <Improvement Critical Success Result
Razorback Fortress: The Armory
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351218
351220
>>351078
"Next time you send me out for something I'll see what's in the area. Can't guarantee anything, snatching an object that isn't the intended target is risky."
>Feeling the gestalt's concerned gaze on you, Anon lifts his shoulders.
"I'm aware certain human objects hate non-Otherworlders, but I didn't think a simple damned touch would cause that much harm. Then again you should've heard what Hollow's old Em-Sixty said when Bren touched it. She's sworn off all trips to Neighsia, and anime. Can't blame her, that little loli is a freak."
>Lifting the new bottle for a drink, Anonymous sets it down to snaps his right index and middle finger.
>In one of the larger, no longer marked lockers, a heavy object undergoes teleport.
"Consider it done. Shouldn't take me long to give her some fresh mods, and I have a bit of Lumen under the big couch."

>>351205
"Aside from multi-component improvements on vehicles or complex machinery, I'm not much help."
>Taking the drink back, Anon lets the craftmare *feel* his pain.
"First of all, Hodch is a unique case for reasons that I don't know and do not WANT to understand. Second, he hasn't done more than make humans uncomfortable. Myself slightly excluded since I'm a gestalt. Third, if Luna wants to keep his history a secret then I'm never going to ask again. Fourth.. I know he's only attracted to unicorn fillies, but again: that's horrifying to me. Age of maturity is an honest concern for humans, myself included even though I'm a gestalt. You might be fine with that due to herd dynamics. We, however, are not. As for what's happened to him-"
>Leaning back in contemplation, the green man's mask frowns for him.
"I don't.. have a single idea except an investigation he was on decades ago caused a severe problem. Either there aren't any humans that know his problems or he's keeping that secret on Moonflank's orders. Would him leaving happen to relate to one of his other students, a modern batpony called Honey-Spiced Mango Shortcake?"

>It was a name Aiutante knew from Hodch, an excellent levelheaded, albeit highly lewd, master chef a year younger than her from the Eastern Moors, but was far more skilled in alchemy and had a highly unusual lineage dating back to middle Lunar Guardian records in the 28,500's.
>The only reason he'd brought her into the Lunar Guard as an affiliate was a near-complete lack of knowledge on batpony blood magic.
>And why, hilariously, batponies infusing their blood into food for the rare blood-drinker lineages was considered 'honorable' throughout the Moors.

"Now that I understand. Only a few humans are social butterflies, but if we're talking about a certain someone, Hodch TELLS others what his intentions are rather than being a blabberrmouth."
>Turning to stare murderously in the Command Center's direction, Emerald wakes up with cold stabbing sensations across her skull.
"I wasn't aware of that, not that I needed to know. Unless they were acting subversively then I don't mind, but it is good some of the College and Underground have been keeping track. Astra Galus knows much more than she tells and I owe her a few dozen favors."
>Taking another sip, through the mask, Anon lowers it to scowl at himself.
"I'm not even close to comprehending a hundredth of one percent what bio-crystal tech is capable of. The few crystallines I've been able to modify are leagues beyond even the carefully reproduced crystalloids Flash has access to. Sure, refocusing a Vapor-Mark crystal gave me fits but it's locked in a less than three percent efficiency state. Since I can't translate pony methods to my own without direct human knowledge, I'm essentially stuck until then."
>Downing the rest and hurling the bottle into his original doorway, the gestalt emits a satisfied noise.
"Yes, but that's not her real color, Lonestar and a few others assault her now and then with semi-permanent, er, permarenent paint. She's a pissy one for sure, but think about it from her angle: the basic tech she has right now is advanced enough that it might as well be functionally Eldritch. Barely have to do anything, objects do all the work for you. What would happen if she were to 'somehow' release examples of that in Equestria, let alone across Tallus? All five gestalts, myself in third, are required to prevent technological contamination as a result of merely existing. There are no simple answers to that problems."
>Reaching into the dinner jacket and pulling out his smartphone, the tall man sighs in anger.
"The whole shitshow in the Palace screwed everything to us gestalts. IF a human died then another one would be summoned to arrive. Once Old Canterlot was claimed and in the process of restoration, the Four Sisters were supposed to modify the Era Lock again, allowing humans to more rapidly adapt. As for the one that died in New Canterlot, that might be part of the problem since he didn't get replaced. Let me show you something-"
>Expanding the screen and turning it around for Aiutante to look at, it was a map of where humans, in black markers indicating decease, and white indicating those still alive, were currently at across Tallus.
"Two thousand nine-hundred fifty or so dead. One thousand five hundred sixty some odd alive still. Those numbers are growing by a cumulatively increasing one percent per day. That means five per day and night as of right now. Less than one in thirty arrive near Razorback. Near, not in. Something went horribly wrong and us gestalts can't fix it."
Dr_Juan_Carlos
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351219
351231
examinprogress.jpg
>>351023
>Carlos chuckles at the patient's comment on his accent.
>The colleagues in Canterlot said the same thing!
"Hehehe. You are not the first to mention that. I must visit there, when I have the opportunidad."
>As Nova continues and speaks for Lejura's injuries, Carlos nods in agreement in terms of current patient settings.
"Si, si. Rib fractures must remain flexible to allow proper diaphragm funcion. The spine COULD be braced if not for the burns. Aye, the tissue trauma from so many explosions alone..."
>His sympathy is strewn across his face. Humans that are in this back of shape do not usually last. And when they do, they're usually missing something.
>Luckily, the inhabitants of Talus are built like tanks.
"You are a very tough mare, Seniorita Lejura. Espero que te recuperes por completo. Seniorita Flicker, may I?"

>Doctor Juan examines the preliminary injuries through the spell, which was such a relief to him.
>It acted as an x-ray, CT/MRI, even ultrasound all in one go. No bulky equipment, no setup or warmup, no radiation.
"Hmm... unfortunately once tissue has become necrotic it cannot be repaired. As much will have to be removed, very importante to lower infection rate. If it begins to leak into the bloodstream, it can lead to worse. Full systemic. But you said no clots, so bueno for now. You equinas seem to have many creative opciones for lost limbs. Very impressed. Has the necrosis reached bone depth yet? If not, we could administer a vasular dilator to increase blood flow."
>He focuses on the left rear knee next. It was heavily traumatized, definitely crushing damage, no wonder it was having a hard time getting blood. Might have to be rebroken and reset if it causes more problems.
"Immobilization for the hairlines is the best thing for them now. The first twenty-four hours they will begin setting if alleviated. We can get cold packs on the microfractures to reduce inflamacion around the areas. The larger ones... I could set in place with some titanium braces and bone cement. Could have used the Starborn's kanpri for this... Anti-inflammatories can luckily help with everything. Antibiotics for the necrosis. Similar burn treatment that was planned for Senior Snakebite can be applied here. I will want to check the bomb wounds for any shrapnel or foreign bodies."
>His mental checklist continues as he looks between Nova and Lejura.
"Have you prescribed anything yet? Tissue rejuvenation? Anything for pain?"

>Carlos' immediate attention falls back on the left legs. The necrosis could inhibit blood flow if it were much deeper and extreme.
>The stents were helping keep the arteries open, but flow restriction was coming from somewhere else.
"I would like to check blood flow from injury site to heart, make sure there are not any obstrucciones."
>Doctor Juan motions with a finger for Nova to position the spell over where he wishes to start at the stent location. He checks below the injury first, then above to follow the arteries back to the heart which he will examine thoroughly last.
>Perpendicular and asymetrical trauma. Lejura's been alive for too long for a possible torn aota or other arterial ruptures. Minor damage to the heart directly could reduce blood flow to weaker arteries but also wouldn't present in fully healthy ones.
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]<M.Perception
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]<M.Research: Surgical Analysis
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
>As he performs his examination, he can't help but ask the routine questions and addresses both mares in the Operating Room.
"How is Seniorita Lejura's vitals? Diet, balanced? Heavy smoking or drinking? High blood pressure? Any underlying condiciones? Previous injuries?"
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351220
351913
>>351218
"Hey, considering how dangerous artefact hunting became after Strelok killed the C-Conciousness, don't do stupid shit and get hurt because you see a Moonlight or something."
>Though he would wonder if a Compass may be worth doing stupid shit over.
"I will be glad that I've never seen anime before if touching an M60 does that to Bren."
>Or know what a loli is, for that matter.
"But yeah, way I figure it is that if artefacts react to ponies like anomalies do intruders, Hodch is probably lucky that it was just a Sparkler. If he'd touched the Slug he would be suffering nasty chemical burns instead. Or, God forbid, he gets a hoof on an artefact that is made in a gravitational anomaly."
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic, Operating Room #2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351231
351636
>>351219
>Releasing a pleased expression at the Doctor, Lejura's bandaged ear flicks in merry half-circles.
"A warm land of fruits, treasures, Burros, and ponies have I long heard tales of from my loved. Similar to my home land it is, save the Burros of whom I have not met before."
>Flat faced and nodding, Nova Flicker's odd eyes inspect mostly filled cabinets around the Operating Room.
"I considered a silk compression body suit for a night or two after her rib fractures fully set. Outside of myself stabilizing them for several hours there are no other medical personnel or poninel here. As for the manabombs and burns they have been sufficiently treated, should heal within a week. I have detected only a small chance of infection due to the undead wyrm's claws."
>Reaching forwards to touch a heavy bandage, Lejura barely notices, turning her head a fraction to inspect what should have been a scream provoking poke.
>Heavy painkillers in use for sure.
"Long have I walked rough dunes, standing against great poundings of nature and equines alike. Of course you may Senor, I am under no illusions for treatment or treatmarent. "
>The accent was horrible of course since Saddle Arabians rolled all the wrong syllables, though her wordplay was passably lewd enough to be taken in either direction.
>Which Nova Flicker glares at the dark silver mare for, whom can only offer a submissively meek, cowed smile.
"So long as the patient shuts her mouth and does not continue trying to break Clinic rules, do as you know best, Doctor."
"I.. yes, you may."

>Functionally immobilized, the left knee had been rebroken into place twice, once in field judging by close tendon lacerations and contusions, then again, most probably Nova's work.
>Noting a lack of clotting, the problem wasn't near the joint itself.
"Regeneration is able to slow, if not halt, the effects of minor necrosis before trauma sets in. Aggressive treatmarent with Restoration elixirs is often capable of removing necrosis and nervous system damage, but not two hours after onset. There are no indications of necrosis beneath primary muscle skeins, only in the local arteries that I have been able to determine. As for replacing limbs that is an expensive matter, not quite as delicate as it used to be to acquire one though."
>Lifting the clipboard off the surgical bed's front, Nova rapidly jots down a series of notes from a borrowed gel-tip pen.
"The idea to immobilize was from Krinza and Lann. I inspected their work before semi-permarenently applying splints. Inflammation is being treated by a mixture of dampener, Detox, with natural salicyclic acids half an hour before each. The last I checked was an hour prior. As for braces and cement.."
>Lips pursing once, the Ward frowns at her notes.
"That would require removing the braces and as the fractures have not set, two full doses of Regeneration would do so but that will place Lejura within a minor overdose risk. We do have antibiotics, light, medium, high, and extreme strength blends from Canterlot College of Magic. I have been minimizing dosage due to potential interference. As for the bomb wounds I was able to remove all shrapnel before sterilizing. A number of claw marks from an undead adult wyrm crossed most of the manabomb wounds and were likewise sterilized, however it is not a good idea to close those wounds as they retain high chances of infection."
"Yes, six dampeners per night for pain, four during day when she is asleep. One Restoration, Regeneration, and Detox every four hours, one medium antibiotic every fifteen hours which I realize now may not be sufficient. I will increase the dosage to four high strength per night and cut the dampeners by half. To replace them I will make use of Ambrosia microdosages even though doing such is a crime."
"Of course."

>Studying from the injury sites to her flanks, Carlos almost winces at noting the Saddle Arabian's large assets uncomfortably jammed together on account of the stainless splints preventing her from moving, though the dampeners were surely keeping her from noticing.
>Definitely from a near-pure coastal lineage.
>Finding no indications of trauma, constrictions, or contusions in the main arteries tracing back, save a few spread across low impact, burn, and claw injuries.
>Focusing on the mare's heart, two aortal compression-contusions directly around 'outlets' were apparent: she'd suffered a small, likely unfelt heart attack that wouldn't have been diagnosed without an extensive physical survey.
>At the mare's age and excellent physical shape, a heart attack wouldn't have been suspected.
>Since blood was flowing normally through non-stented arteries due to musculature respiration, the actual risk of necrosis would have been minimal if more aggressive antibiotic and Regeneration treatment had been given, increasing the risk to minor.
>While the damage unlikely to impact much more than slow the recovery of her left legs by half, a quadruple dose of maximum strength Restoration elixirs would likely solve the issue, though the process would be excruciating and required her to be fully unconscious.

"Excellent otherwise. I have tasked Allys with acquiring Saddle Arabian preferred foods in a warm salad form: roots, vegetables, common fruits with spices and peels."
>Blinking up at Carlos, the amber eye rolls upwards, snout wiggling in, for once, serious thought.
"I smoked calm leaf once per week with my herd."
>Also known as tobacco, though the Saddle Arabian variety was a much milder and more fragrant strain.
"Social drinks.. two at times. Three, rarely. No blood pressure deviations. I have a painful reactive tail twitch under severe stress. I drank ten percent more water than most mares my age as I exercised more often. ...no permarenent injuries outside of a shattered hoof when I was a filly."
Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351235
351244
>>351215
>Remaining still for a split-second, the silver disc cracks apart in a shower of Lunar and Solar preferred colors throughout the room.
>Suspiciously like Discord was throwing a fireworks party for you.
"WHICH I AM!"
>Slithering up from a resounding yellow crackle, the tiny Draconequis tosses an iguana shaped party favor down while dancing a jig on the unit.
"Congoratulations on your first UNTOUCHED, UNEDITED, and PERFECT object acquired from wherever you happen to be from!"
>The iguana takes one look at the THING it was standing on, then hisses.
>Gleefully cackling, the God of Chaos points both hands at the reptile.
"Oh shush you! This is a special occasion after all, and special events get-"
>Grabbing the party favor and fishing around in it's mouth, tongue stuck out the corner of both mouths, something is pulled free and slapped down.
>It was.. a bill.
>Not currency, but one featuring Discord holding up a sign with Discord on it, advertising a Discord plush.
>Satisfied at his meta-meta-reference, Discord rubs his hand and claws together.
"ONE extra coupon! You probably didn't even notice there's three in your backpack! Or DID you? If not, please press F1 to bring up the assigned InterPony's list of your items and equipment.. if you had one that is."
>Head twisting around to stare directly south, then back, the self-assumed deity shrugs his shoulders.
"Don't worry too much, there's still plenty of time to turn relations with the Crystal Empire around, that is if two earth ponies, a pegasus, a gryphon, and the cutest little Crystal pony somehow aren't prevented from oh so critical actions."
>Visibly amused again, complete with small exclamation marks around his head, Discord points a claw directly at you.
>No, not your helmet.
>YOU.
>Then grins.
"I'll offer something free of charge, strings, beads, small fluffy sheep, and not even one hay fry. How would you like to use that wonderfully complex, insanely difficult to make, fifty thousand Bit crystal everything-penetrating and analyzing scanner that lovely Miss Galus loaned but never got back? All you have to do is say 'I hate ponies'."
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351237
351238
>>351204
>>351206
"I have access to three secondary and five tertiary nodes, none of them are fully language related. Can't make any promises due to damage."
>Diving forwards to lay back down on her front, legs kicking idly, mini-Wild's antennae continue their small pastel horse-like wiggling motions while the 'charm' undergoes a series of ever more concerning changes.
"...best probability: I will stay outside of visual range, let you down and walk in to explain the situation."
>Head turning enough for the single eye to swivel right, your Eldritch-Android daughteru winks.
>Or was the screen flickering?
"If they request me to do so then I will not share details."
>Threat? ...no.
>At least she had SOME concept of privacy.
>Returning to the modifications with a satisfied air, the abominable caricature takes the map offscreen and replaces it with a chart covered in symbols overlaying numbers.
"...I see. My six primary nodes are severely damaged. I cannot take the risk of damaging them until my primary and secondary repair systems have been restored to at least sixty percent capability."
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #8

>Gazing into the barely waving sea grasses and odd, not tasty looking plants, out there, somewhere, a twitch happens.
[1d100 = 74] <Central Crag Moors Ocean Chart: XL Size
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351238
351239 351245
>>351237
"I don't mind speaking in Common, it helps me learn the intricacies faster."
>Might as well call it Common over English.
"Hey, best case scenario is that they'll let you through no problem."
>Worst case being executions but let's not state that.
>She's going to get me shot with magic.
>Possibly kink magics.

>As I watch the barely visible ocean plant life, a recollection comes to mind.
>A very, very alarming recollection.
"Wild, you need to stop repairing. Right now. I just remembered, sound travels a LOT farther underwater. And we have not been quiet down here."
>Sitting up straight, I peer out into the darkness.
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6 +1]
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351239
351245
>>351238
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351244
351247
>>351235

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLatBu--pHM

"Fuck!"
>Pareidolia jolts back.
>Stumbling to a seated position on his bed, he stares in minor disbelief and major annoyance at the embodiment of chaos sauntering on top of his dresser.

[Of all the damn things, can't even begin to quantify this one's problem causing-interrupting my ideal acquisi-what?]

>His brow wrinkles in confusion as Discord remarks about 'coupons', prompting him to slowly bring his back pack around to search for them keeping Discord firmly in view the entire time.
>Finding one, he stares unamusedly at the smaller Discord relief before staring back at the larger.
"Of course you'd be involved with that vending machine."

>He shifts uneasily on the bed as Discord continues, moving himself further away from him.
[Unclear what he is referring to in regards to the Empire. Probable "grain" of truth somewhere in the statement.]

>Sighing under his breath as Discord patently bypasses all the normal rules for obstruction of view, his eyes narrow even further upon hearing the shady offer.
"For you to then turn me into one so I can use it? What's the catch, Discord?
Lost in the Crag Moors: You Have DONE IT NOW, Wild!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351245
351248
Rilvenni Subtype Oceanic - Second Adult Stage.jpg
>>351238
>>351239
>Bringing up the schematic of her internal components and resizing it to take up half the left screen she was on, mini-Wild traces connecting lines between.. components that were NOT standard, barely rational, shaped in ways that should not work.
"Understood mom, fairly sure I had at least one thousand volumes of information on select topics before getting cooked out of my exterior skin. Armor. Same thing. I can't bypass restoring direct connections until my secondary repair system is restored and maybe there's enough material to rebuild the tertiary.."
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Sensory Node #2
"If you have data pertaining to the Ferron that would allow me to consider an approach. Best to worst case scenario planning is, probably, a good idea."

>Merrily working for a bit, the Android's cartoon image stops, the head turning to blink at you while the left antennae flicks in concern.
"What do you mean? You haven't been making noise. My chest cabin is soundproofed, hermetically sealed against external atmosphere and pressure, also warded against Eldritch influence. At least, any Eldritch intervention that isn't mine or Father That Which Cannot Be Named's. Water has a higher density than air, why would sou-"

>Not hearing your daughteru's questions, the slow prickling of abject wrong in the murky, red outlined vegetation straight ahead starts with the back of your neck, then moves on to the flesh around neck.
>Focusing on the few tiny fish that could be seen, semi-phosphorescent cichlids that were probably juveniles, all of them cease moving, drifting downwards at the arrival of a real predator.
>A MUCH larger monster of one at that:
>The hateful lovechild hybrid of a shark, an octopus, and a small Eldritch horror, the teeth from numerous other creatures, a series of sideways eyes, and disturbing ripples of orange-red pulsing skin drifts into view.
>Obscene as it was, the long, extended prehensile tongue was the last fucking fucking straw.
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] >Predator's Instincts
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] >Predator's Senses
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]

"........................mom, I think.. we need to... go... .....right?"
Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351247
351254
>>351244
>Sniggering at what he knew was your internal monologue, Discord throws his arms wide.
"Now THAT'S the reaction I was looking for! You humans are so incredibly easy to knock off kilter!"
>Pausing to scratch his chin several times, the Draconequis steps off the unit with a derogatory sigh.
"The coupons are, of course. The entire unit was the Third Gestalt's idea, but nooooo, he wouldn't listen to me when I said PLACING A CREATURE THAT TRIED TO WIPE OUT ANCIENT UNICORNS FOR THEIR MAGIC IS A BAD IDEA."
>Scribbling the words in BOLD above himself, the yellow eyes roll furiously until one pops out, which he grabs and stares at with the other eye.
"Leave it to an Ami, a German, and a Korean to all want a VENDING MACHINE instead of oh I don't know maybe a nice guided missile launcher, an armored micro tank, or a railgun that could pop Constructs like balloons."
>Having a staring contest with himself, the eye in his clawed hand turns to talk at you
"Haven't you noticed all that delicious orange juice inside them? I bet you could make a killer [REDACTED], maybe a [REDACTED] too! Wait, why am I censoring myself? This isn't Star Trek where I was forced to be PG-13 through all the seasons. Oh well, at least Sisko isn't here to punch me in the face again. I'll have to wait until [REDACTED] season of [REDACTED] [REDACTED] to have THAT happen again."
>Popping the eye back in and taking a left leaning stance, Discord's arms grab themselves in what should have been a defensive motion, waving a claw at you with a wide grin.
"See, now that's what I'm talking about! There's always a catch, or a favor later on, and while it WOULD be fun to see you as a pony I think you'd get bored far too quickly. Here's the real catch-"
>Extending his neck out, the head stops at 2M away with a dispassionate glower.
"That Marquis isn't here. Despite how much I don't appreciate his constant refusals to play along with my well founded and reasonable antics, you've most certainly noticed how incredibly sour the moods have been around here. While you COULD say that the Unstable Unicorn was the Stabilizing Sapient (Trademark not applicable) here, that has put ME in a sour mood."
>Retracting back and wrapping his neck around a claw, Discord makes a theatrical show of bouncing the iguana in the air.
"It's business as usual elsewhere-"
>Stopping to point the unwilling reptile at you like a riding crop.
>Which it absolutely wasn't.
"Except for here. You bring him back and I go back to the usual of annoying everyone around here with F U N . As for how? The last icon is a drop down language menu. You WOULD have been able to press F8 on your InterPony unit to change languages and translate the same at the same time but yadda yadda yadda, you get the point. Now then! I have a few thousand tiny barrels of Changeling jelly, made BY Changelings, not FROM Changelings mind you, to juggle in the hopes that silly batfilly and her less serious batfilly friend try to catch one thereby having a FRIENDLY SITUATION. Ta ta~!"
>Blowing a kiss at the new unit, the clawed hand grabs Discord's face, reeling himself back into a single tiny POP! icon.
>Which does pop after a second.

>The iguana party favor lands on the floor, looking QUITE pissed off at its situation.
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351248
351250
>>351245
"Your welding and... explosions have been making noise..."
>I trail off, staring into the water as a new thing appeared in my unfortunately poor sight.
>Which meant that it was not far away at all.
>This was not good in the least bit.
"I think we need to go anywhere that isn't here, right about now Wild. How fast can you move?"
>I was not prepared to deal with a giant shark.. squid thing.
>Not at fucking all.
Lost in the Crag Moors: Wild Did It. NOT Natilda.
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351250
351252
>>351248
>Slooowly putting the schematic of herself off the left screen, mini-Wild visibly gauges the distance from her to the absolutely not natural monstrosity holding eerily still.
>Partially transparent tent on the right screen appears, scrawling slowly upwards without a single sound.
ESTIMATED DISTANCE TO TARGET: 50 METERS.
TARGET'S ESTIMATED SPEED: UNKNOWN, PRESUMED FASTER THAN ME.
TARGET'S ESTIMATED DURABILITY: LOW TO MODERATE.
REMAINING CANNON SHELLS FOR MY WEAPON: 5/6.
CANNON EFFICIENCY: 100%.
RIGHT ARM EFFICIENCY: ....65.9%.
MY MAXIMUM UNDERWATER SPEED: 45 MILES PER HOUR.
ESTIMATED CHANCE OF DISENGAGING: ....30%.
ANALYZING DATABANKS, CROSS-REFERENCING, INITIATING MICROPULSE SCANS.
...I'M REALLY, REALLY SORRY MOM.
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Sensory Node #2
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Arcanum Sensors Array

>The text holds still as the unnatural abomination's eyes squint, the tongue swaying back and forth.
>It was tasting the damned water.
>The eyes twitch, contract, then snap directly to stare at you.
>More correctly, at the center of Wild's chest where the cameras were.
>Barely disturbing the vegetation surrounding it, the creature raises perhaps a meter, it's flesh rippling in patterns but wasn't even trying to blend in.
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] >Predator's Instinct
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] >Predator's Senses
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351252
351253
>>351250
"It is not your fault, Wild. I had forgotten about how far sounds travel underwater."
>I swallow thickly as it seems to stare directly at me, as if it could tell I was inside her.
>Or that a meal of sorts was.
"Thirty percent is... hopeful. We are going to start backing up... And hope that it decides we're not worth the energy."
>Its all I could think of doing, I highly doubt her cannon was functional this deep... Or at all underwater.
Lost in the Crag Moors: You're Supposed To Eat Seafood, NOT Get Eaten By It!
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351253
351269
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gt7phZU16w

>>351252
>Shifting in the vegetation as if trying to find a comfortable spot to continue watching, the text from before rolls off screen while new lines blend in overhead.
DON'T BLAME YOURSELF
RILVENNI SPECIES DERIVATIVE, POTENTIALLY PLANAR
LENGTH: 22 METERS
WIDTH: 8 METERS
WEIGHT: 3,200 POUNDS
ADVANCED TARGET ANALYSIS:
-MODERATE DURABILITY
-EQUAL SPEED
-UNIDENTIFIED INTERNAL CORE, PLANAR ELEMENTAL?
-POTENTIAL WEAKNESSES: EYE CLUSTERS, TEETH, TONGUE
-ENDO-CARTILAGE SKELETON, HIGHLY FLEXIBLE
-SENSOR CLUSTERS, HIGH PAIN RESPONSE?
OVERALL THREAT ANALYSIS: MEDIUM TO HIGH
SUPERIOR IN DIRECT COMBAT BY 5-15% MARGIN

>Rising up several meters further, the monstrosity turns to face Wild as the tongue flicks about one last time, then swallows it, the Android utterly still. Still.
>A pained realization occurs: it knew there was something edible inside the strange metallic creature it was looking at and was trying to figure out how to get at the morsel.

...UNLESS WE DRAG IT ON LAND?
MOM, I HAVE A FUEL CANISTER AND PROPANE TANK IN EXTERNAL STORAGE
MY REPAIR UNITS SHOULD BE ABLE TO IGNITE THE SECOND AT A RANGE OF 15M
APPROXIMATELY.
TAKE PILOT CONTROLS AND FORCE REARWARD RUN AFTER I WRITE 'GO'
>The left screen snaps off, then back on to show a rear view.
>In the overhead section, tiny motions of lapping water are heard.
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #8
GO

[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] >Predator's Instinct
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] >Predator's Senses
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351254
351255
1614597419699.gif
fgjh.png
50.png
>>351247
>Pareidolia remains silent, ignoring Discord's ramblings that he knew wouldn't make sense without context.

[Attempting to patronize me. Complete misunderstanding of my priorities.]

>He maintains an equally displeased glower as Discord looms forward.

[...Surprisingly straightforward. Believable. For once. Will need to retrieve that detector.]

>Sighing internally as yet more information is shoveled to him, he waits for Discord to disappear along with his immersion breaking sound effect bubbles before stepping towards his newly acquired, fully functional A.I. drive.
"At least one thing has gone right."
>As he takes the prototype drive and depresses its power and reset button to select a new personality template, he plugs it into the main drive slot of his helmet.
>Glancing down, he picks up the iguana with his free hand and sets it on his bed.
"I'll handle you in a minute."

[Leaving more shit behind for me to deal with-]

>Opting to select Tipper as the personality for the older drive, he waits for it to boot up and ensures all systems are as nominal as they could be given the prior circumstances.
>Explaining the current situation as he works, he begins booting up the newer drive.
>Opting to avoid wireless data transfer just in case, he tugs on the manual USB cord from a port on its side and connects it to the drive in his helmet.
"This should allow you to share your newer variant's 'eyes' and senses on their platform. My conferred Shibuya Protocol clearance should be applied to them as well. Your networking functionality should also be accessable now to share and adapt with this newer model. Together you should be able to rectify those flaws and glitches in your programming and dramatically increase your performance..."

>He pauses to look at the holographic projector arrays lighting up with a clean, teal hue.

"These Stand Alone Ghost models were given contingency plans for contact with extra-dimensional situations from Research and from Command, but reported instances of their use were sparse. They'll likely have some shock you'll need to manage."

[Faster, smoother booting process. No need to bypass or clear because it's not a civilian model. Primed and ready for field asset use. God I missed Committee streamlining. Need these assets to remain alive and functional for everything to fall into place...]

>The boot process reaches an entry prompt point, the window flashing both on his helmet readout and in the projection field above the dresser. "Would you like to name your support intelligence Y/N?"
"Yes."

[The journey some in Combat squads take-it matched the plot of... what was the name of that manga... right, BANG!. And his companion's name. That would be fitting for this solemn trek.]

>"State desired name."

"Shiibo."

>For a brief moment, the word BASED flashes across all projections before an input accepted dialog window appears and the system generates a default avatar appearance matching its database referencing the apparent media the name was tied to.

[Sasuga, Research managed to slip this in past the filters. Practically required reading BANG! was. Wonder if they ever completed that replica body for the first Shiibo to use...]

"You can remain here with Shiibo and catch up to speed with what you're both missing. I need to move this iguana Discord left here and retrieve a detector from the Lab."
Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351255
351304
>>351254
>Picking up the party favor, it was made from what felt and weighed like paper mache.
>For now.
>Lacking the ability to facially express much more than disdain, or a flat expression as it was doing now, the pseudo-creature sighs before stilling.

>Receiving confirmation of the switch, access is temporarily halted while it self moderates, disengaging the previous poninality and transferring relevant data.
>Reappearing as the calm, yet sometimes malevolently serious Doctor you knew before her breakdown, taking a seat on a simulation of her chair in the Clinic, both forelegs cross with a rigid nod.
"Data consolidation complete. Restoring secondary and tertiary functions.. complete. Reengaging previous systems and analyzing improvemarent vectors.. complete. I can't wait to meet an advanced fellow, it'll make my job easier so long as they don't figuratively collapse."
>Making a short hoof wave of dismissal, 'Tipper' smiles in mild amusemarent.
"I'll ease him or her in gently sir. Dealing with culture shock is part of who I am."
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <B.Electronic Warmare Studies
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]

>Raising an eyebrow at the unusual name choice, 'Tipper' shrugs absently.
"I have access to the helmet itself still, overheard and recorded everything. Dealing with crystal biotech is almost always safe outside of their weaponry. Eventually you or I would have thought to press buttons and see what happens."
"Ah, like most of Discord's creations the best option is place it outside somewhere relatively safe. One of the foals or marefriends will pick it up and take care of it. Or he'll come back for it claiming that it's a lost artifact that will save one pony's world, which will become true in the future."
>Returning the party favor's disgusted stare with an apologetic one of her own, the A.I. smiles.
"Don't worry, you won't be tossed in water here. Expect a new coat of paint though."
>The iguana blinks unreadably.
"You'll get used to it. Anyhow, you'd better hoof it sir. While you're on the way back I suggest a detour to the Enclave. We're going to be short on backup since Hodch's status will be severely impacted regardless of what artifacts and trinkets he brings, and I don't exactly know Lonestar's capabilities yet."
"Access confirmed: there's a list of Enclave stored objects of interest in the Master Radio's database."
"Items of extremely high value: Mythril Burst Staff, Prestaniszcio, Slumbering Wrath. Lacsidrae and the Volkanist Lojier may prove to be highly effective based on Amerose's records."
"Items of high value: Blood-Corrupted Water Elemental Shards, Crescent Sigil of Honor, Ghost-Speak Ring, Riftdrowner Spools, The Smoke After Dusk."
"Items of moderate value: Burst Pendant, Spectral Chisel, Vow of Steel."
"Items of interest: Negation Amulet, Psychokinesis Pendant."
"Alternate suggestion: two Enchantmarent Nullifiers may be worth bringing if they can be stabilized and sealed."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351269
351271
>>351253
>The more I hear about this thing, the less I want to do with it.
>I could only thank the stars that it was not exactly gigantic like I had initially thought.
>Even if it was still fucking huge, Wild weighed more at least.
"That thing knows I'm in here somehow."

>I grimace and take hold of her controls, getting ready.
"We'll drag it on land only if it forces us to fight it after taking a face full of explosion. If it allows us to disengage, we are fucking right off."
>At this point the Constructs may be better.
>Yanking back on the controls, I start moving her.
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] >B. Riposte
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
An Elk of A Time
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351270
351283
hospitalized_elk_commission.png
>>351210

>The two Pred-Elks were sound asleep for most of their time in the clinic, occasionally getting up to stretch their legs and assault booping any attending pony they saw.
>Astral in particular was a natural at sneak snout snuggles.

>Speaking of which, hers and Brumes' twitched with activity as they inhaled the ambrosia tainted air. Astrals eyes snapped open while Brumes groggily half opened.
>Both set of eyes turned from a mystic blue to that similar of the pink ambrosia, showing it has deeply effected them.

>For Brume Gale she mumbled incoherently before curling up into a tight ball and falling asleep again, her dreams not plagued by her wounds this time. Instead it was filled with all manner of cooked food, laughter and wrestling.
>On the other hoof for Astral Poinsettia she had a stark reaction. She burst out laughing as if she heard the funniest joke ever, one that would put Discord to shame. After a moment, she stopped, sprang all four legs into the air, rolled onto her side and went to sleep too.

>Both snored like abused chainsaws..
Lost in the Crag Moors: Saving Wild's Damaged Ass
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351271
351272
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R-w1VZMHZYc

>>351269
IT'S PLANAR, CAN SENSE THROUGH MATERIAL
BASTARD
>Two loud thumps above, a loud winding of electrical conduits surge occur below, the spin up process barely noticeable while you grab onto the the pilot controls and haul them backwards.
>Calculating Wild's external position off both screens, she jars backwards, entire frame angling at a harsh rate before a solid thud from her right leg makes contact with sand below, pushing backwards.
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <GM.Nuclear Sprint
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
"Planars don't let potential prey leave, consider them suicidal-"
>Right arm lifting to grab a relatively tiny white canister, she pushes it towards the monstrosity as her eight tendrils aim at the propane tank, hostile red light gleaming in the water.
"Locking target, attempting to restore left arm-"
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #8
[1d6 = 3] <E.Counter
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair

>Catching onto the unusual sounds from it's hopeful prey, the creature's small mouth opens, tentacles snapping out and forwards to put on a burst of speed.
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] >Predator's Instinct
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] >XL Swimmer
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
I'M GOING TO PUNCH YOUR TEETH OUT
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351272
351277
>>351271
"well that makes things a lot more fucking difficult!"
>I snarl as I tug back on the controls, moving Wild backwards as she launches what I guess was the propane tank.
"If only I grabbed some fucking grenades, I'd have something more to help you with!"
>All I could do was move Wild and watch as she fought the Planar.
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] >B. Riposte
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]

>As I move Wild backwards, I had a bright idea.
>Literally.
>I reach over and flick on the forward lights, attempting to blind it even partially.
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] >FOH Light
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] >FO Light
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] >FF Light
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351274
351276 351283
>>351210

>A loud "hmm" came from Lonts throat as he listened to Nova Flicker list off all the duties the Matron had to do. No doubt there was more and Nova would of been eager to say more but he was content to leave it at that.
"I see, a very busy mare."
>He raised an eyebrow to the Unicorn hybrid, recalling that too.
>She did refer to him as a lion quite out of the blue.
>"Why I wonder?"
"I have seen the winged cats while traveling in the Moors a few years ago when we were hunting down Drake, yet I don't believe that is why she called me a lion. In the Empire I'm referred to as the Royal Bedwarmer, with good intentions I assure you. Perhaps that is what they call me in the Conclaves, personally I prefer that title."
>He said, ending with a warm laugh.

>At first things were proceeding well. For the first few seconds.
>Then the ichor from within the vial dribbled out.
>His lungs began to burn and so too his eyes yet he kept a steady hand. His brow was developing sweat as he strained his body to be still as a statue.
>By the time Tacit exhaled and the vial was empty of all its contents Lont was about to gasp for refreshing air.
>Only to gasp in fright at Nova Flickers neigh.
"WHAT?!"
>He shouted with a hint irritation.
>Snapping his head to the mare he then saw the atmosphere within the clinic was more...pink in colour as if he was wearing a pair of pink tinted glasses.
"Oh fuck!"
>On instinct he was running yet his mind was beginning to feel foggy and at ease despite himself, as if he had eaten some chocolate covered mareijuana.

1. Runs safely into Novas bubble
2. Runs outside
3. Runs so fast he tackles Nova to the ground

[1d3 = 1]
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351276
351283
>>351274
[1d6 = 3] >M.Reaction Speed
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6 = 3]
Lost in the Crag Moors: Saving Wild's Damaged Ass
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351277
351278 351280
>>351272
"Standard grenades won't do well underwater mom-"
>Losing some momentum in the sinking sand below, Wild's left leg catches traction and pushes back in a short, free floating hop.
>Bolting forwards in an alarming burst of speed, eerie red-orange rippling flesh trailing appendages leave a scattered trail of disturbed vegetation behind it, propane tank smashing below the creature's left lower jaw as tracers of red-white hot welding lasers streak out towards it-
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #8

>Wild counterbalances her right arm's movements with the left, throwing you off balance to haul her a hard left:
>Twisting in the water at a dizzying rate, the surges of adrenaline were letting you ignore the cabin starting to feel MUCH too small and leaving you dangling halfway off the couch.
"FUCKING SIDEWAYS AGAIN-"
>The sinister noises of "medical implements" spool out of their hatches towards you why must this happen THREE times in a night?
[[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <CC-MT #1: Grab
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <CC-MT #2: Grab
>Flicking on the only active forward lights in rapid succession, half of the octo-shark-horror's left eyes shut tight.
>Seizing the Planar creature's straight route and likely unable to turn sharp angles, like she was doing NOW, Wild's left fist streaks out to hopefully impact the monstrosity, counterbalancing again with the right arm.
"I'M GOING TO KNOCK YOUR TEETH OUT AND GLUE THEM TO MY FISTS YOU BASTARD!"
[1d6 = 1] <E.Counter
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <Crushing Force

>Four of the largest trailing tentacles slip around the creature's bulk, angling forwards to grab through the partial blindness-
[[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <T#1
[[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <T#2
[[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <T#3
[[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <T#4
1d6+6] <Ramming Speed
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Heavyweight
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351278
>>351277
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Ramming Speed
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351280
351282
>>351277
"They'd do better down its throat though!"
>I was too angry at the prospect of some underwater creature deciding I was food to care that I'd been thrown off to the side. Again.
>Not even caring that the tendrils were grabbing me.
>While she was having a slug match with the thing, I shook my head and refocused on keeping her as steady as possible.
>While also trying to avoid it.
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] >B. Riposte
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
Lost in the Crag Moors: Saving Wild's Damaged Ass
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351282
351700
>>351280
"I WOULD AGREE BUT RIGHT NOW I NEED OPTIONS!"
>Barely keeping track of the laser-welding pulses, three of the red lances entirely miss the propane tank, one striking a small trailing murder appendage.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 10/????HP
>The second one however lands a direct hit in the rear, an eye-watering burst of white-red detonation followed by chunks of steel burrowing into the Planar monster's right outer tentacles and side.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 83/????HP, SEVERE BLEEDING
>Securely wrapping around your waist and hauling down, the medical tendrils force you onto the crash couch with painful force.
>Natilda: 13/14HP
>Those were gonna be some large bruises to take of later!
>At least the ass pain wasn't that bad.
>Yet-

>Correcting the previous halfway spin into a sharp right turn, Wild's left fist smashes into the monster's left side under and below the jaw, the same arm rapidly latched onto by a pair of rippling tentacles and squeezing.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 183/????HP
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <T#1
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <T#2
>Countering with her own, the left half of Wild's repair appendages streak out into the mass of softer tentacles, white-red burning jets searing through the water while the other half grapple against the other pair.
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #8
>vs:
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <T#3
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <T#4

>The entire chest cabin shakes violently times as the Rilvenni impacts the Eldritch-Android's right chest plating, crumpling inwards with both metal shearing and the sounds of Tryptaran mass being squished elsewhere.
>That didn't sound horrible but wasn't good either.
>Partially stunned by it's own speed and impact, the left side of the Planar abomination's boneless head deflates in a series of disgusting ripples, the entire jaw launches forwards for a bite at the shiny blue metal in front of it.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 278/????HP
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <A Little Nibble
>Reaching out with both armored hands, the right punches at the creature's mouth, the left aiming to grab what it could and squeeze.
[1d6 = 4] <E.Counter
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair

>Feeling and watching Wild staring to heavily tilt left and downwards, unable talk and strike at the same time, text flows across the darkened right screen:
KEEP ME STANDING, CAN'T LET IT GET ON TOP
>That IS what she said!
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351283
351298 351904
>>351270
>At least two dozen humans were assaulted.
>Ten or so ponies were double assaulted.
>Even a pegasus ghost was given the snoot-to-snoot, although that one felt quite cold and tickled a lot.
>ALL were booped.
>Except for the mean Crystal pony that wouldn't talk Common.
>The only ones that didn't get a snootle touch were several that entered to be treated and left.
>Except for the sleeping human.
>And each other.

>Lost in a profusion of freshly grown, sweet nectar laden flowers under the Fortress.. somewhere, Lin cocks her head.
"....what was I doing again? OH! More flowers!"
[1d6+30 = (1+30) = 31] <GM.Druidry: Growth of a Grove
[1d6+30 = (2+30) = 32]
[1d6+30 = (2+30) = 32]
[1d6+30 = (2+30) = 32]
[1d6+30 = (6+30) = 36]
[1d6+30 = (2+30) = 32]
>Fynnri was going to lose all of his feathers. AGAIN.

>>351274
>>351276
>Slow.
>So slow, Nova Flicker was.
>By the first boot step hits the Clinic's flooring and turns your body around, it was too late for her.
>Dropping the protective air filtration spell around her head to bring up a larger bright red version, the carnelian hybrid's eyes roll back into her skull.
>Hazy thoughts of why were you running, there's still pleeennnttyyy of tiiiiiime creep in as you drop the vial, pitching forward in a slow motion dash to escape the warm, snuggly pink cloud that tasted of some delicious berry-
>Along with the uniquely searing, acidic taste-scent of fresh batpony blood spreading from lips down into the deepest pits of your lungs.
>Temporarily jolted into action, you clear around Tacit's bed directly at Nova Flicker in mid collapse, passing through the shield's finally stabilized layers with little resistance.
>Which left the problem of either crashing into her or using the softest pillow in the building.
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.351286
351288
>>351132
>Hearing the raw fury in dataform and feeling it due to her particular capacity for machine empathy, Mallia physically winces a little bit, right infront of Raindrop.
>But she had been wincing, so the difference between expressions wasn't much..
(R-reproductively... Compatible...)
(... I don't,---hmm...)
(--This feels a little bit wrong but--)
(--Iii will think about it when I have some alone time where it's less awkward to think about these things.)

(Also what's this...?)
>Mallia, noticing the engram she receiver from Velasi herself. Lingering on it and trying to figure out who or what it was addressed to.
>And also the flowing mists of Noospheric data that she was just now noticing. Unconsiously causing her to hold her breath in wonder...

>Mallia, exhaling that breath a second later, firstly watches the way Raindrop does a nice STRETCH with a certain degree of interest, which urges her to smile a little bit more, but nonetheless looks to Chisan to pay attention to the Storm Trooper's statements.
>Her smile ebbs as she squints with curiosity, slowly nodding her head. Her eyes once again finding themselves going lower to the dead Auspex.
>The Enginseer's heart breaks a little more every time she sees it...
"Build itself out..." Mallia echoed.
>Mallia nods again...
>Then, without skipping a beat, recognises the Storm Trooper's salute and does not waste a SINGULAR second snapping at-attention and returning the salute with a crisp, heartfelt respect and pride.
>Then relaxes, tilting her head to follow the man with her glance; the way he looks making HER face fall with a touch of sadness too.

(C'mon, Chisan... You can't just keep kicking yourself for not knowing...)
>She doesn't say that. Though she wants to. It would be a cold comfort, and she knows it.

>... It's then that she notices the Sun wasn't a Sun, and the light cast down on them wasn't sunny--it was red.
>Puzzled, the Enginseer glances upward. The slight vertigo of seeing the Moon THAT close makes her stumble a little step back, then she blinks it away.
"Woah, hello there..."
>Said the Enginseer to The Moon.

"Oh. I get paid? I haven't figured that out yet."
>Mallia asked aloud in response to Raindrop, looking down at the knight with slightly wider eyes that showed genuine surprise. As if the concept was somehow novel to her.
>She darts her eyes in a brief bout of thought, nodding along as Raindrop explains the value of bits to her.
>Then noticed the playful brow wiggling, which was just the expression that made Mallia focus again. The Enginseer's smile grows lopsided, a bit more flustered as she suddenly finds herself look a bit off to the side and leaning a bit more on her left leg, crossing her arms loosely...
>But before she can follow her gut and lean into the potential flirt, Raindrop lays it out.

"Mmm where could I possibly take this most worthy knight to for a totally normal dinner, uhh"
(I don't even know... Wait,)
"I mean there is always that hot spring we were at, with the Vindrak somewhere far beneath. That--"
"Okay maybe not THAT one... That's not very good."
>Mallia then pouts and puts a hand to her chin.
(Okay no that's no place for NOBILITY.)
(Raindrop is nobility, right? She's a knight. Knights are nobles.)
(Oh no.)
"--Okay maybe that's not it, uh, uhmm..."
"III'LL~ think about it?? Yes. Somewhere decent so I don't embarass you."
>Then she takes a deep breath, and breathes a couple embarassed words out.
"... ᵀᵒᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ."

>Mallia's face turns to a suddenly flustered scowl as she realises what she's getting into if this actually goes through.
>And starts to blush ever so slightly., Mallia putting her hands to her cheek and subtly turning her head a bit more to hide parts of her face.

"... S-sowhatkindof-uhh food, would you be getting. Out of-, sheer curiosity?"
>She asks, tilting her head and eying around self-consciously.
>Where did all the confidence go? This was supposed to be easy! It IS easy! It probably wasn't even serious.
"... Also don't spend too much, if--you do. I'll feel extremely bad if you do. I think I--like I just remembered I have money in my--thing--my, kit, Maintenance kit, yes. I can share. The bill."
>She takes a breath, finally.

>She half-turns around as if eager to move out in a direction from the Pagoda.
>Taking half-a-step, she remembers Chisan is supposed to come back with a 'device'.
>She stops after a single step, and just turns back around.

>Meanwhile, her mechadendrite clicked semi-audibly behind her.

"BUT, yes that sounds good."
>Mallia manages after half-a-second of recovery, beaming in earnest at Raindrop despite the lingering semi-pout and rubbing at her cheek.
Budieca
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351287
351289
03-19_Lont_Sand_cutter_overlook.png
>>351193

>Feline ears rotated around, one listening to the mare while the other heard a difference in rhythm coming from upstairs. A sly smile teased at the edge of her beak, yet disappearing as she brought her full attention back to the wounded equine.
"I'm not all that caught up'n in my history but what you're saying sounds familiar, you won't be surprised that we're not really taught much of Equestrian history here in Gryphon territory. Let alone Stalliongrad."
>Tilting her head from one side than to the other, she clicked her beak several times.
"I've heard Lucky the Pegasi before and her dealings with Razorback, from how Swe talks about her they see her as a trustworthy ally."
>She shrugged her wings.
"Perhaps the bad blood between Stalliongrad and Las Pegasus spurred her actions. We may never know now."
>Budieca said, head lowering a bit as she thought of the many dead due to the conflicts between the two cities.

>As Sand Cutter talked away one of the Gryphonesses talons lazily carved tiny circles into the warm floor, though the smoothness of such a motion was interrupted at the naming of Sha'Ro.
"Sha'Ro was also killed thanks to Razorback."
>She said bluntly. The memories of that monster made Budiecas feathers stand on end.
"A wicked creature and a cannibal at that, she delighted herself by gorging on eggs while would-be mothers and fathers were forced to watch."
>Her feathered stood down as she calmed herself with an exhale.
"She is dead and gone, much like those plans you spoke of, torn apart."
>The Gryphon said plainly with a glint of satisfaction in her eyes.

>Back to her well trained welcoming demeanour Budieca raised a claw and wagged a singular finger at Sand Cutter, mock chiding her.
"Stop dwelling on the past, its not good for you. I've had too many sleepless nights tormenting myself thinking of the things I 'could of done' if I 'did a thing differently'. What's done is done, besides if what I heard are true than she is in peaceful rest now."
>She said, beaming.

>Sand Cutters question made the Gryphoness let out a knowing chuckle.
"We are both fine with it, besides his heart belongs to me and my heart is his. Now, if he was a Gryphon or was somehow able to fertilize eggs.."
>Head cocking to the side, ears flat against her skull and while feline eyes sharpened.
"It would be a different story!"
>She cackled, head craned upwards. Budieca wondered if Ri'Vahz heard her. She hope she did.

>She stood up eager to fulfil the mares favour and pleased at her for accepting her request.
"Gladly! You stay right there while I do just that~"
>Budeica sang. She skipped away from the equine and disappeared into the kitchen again.
>...
>..
>.
>Several minutes go by and the sound of running water finally ceases. With strained noises Budeica returns with a full wooden bucket carried in her beak. She gives Sand Cutter a nod as she placed the bucket next to the fire at the opposite side of where the pony was.
"Pwah! It never tastes good no matter how many times I clean it."
>She spat.
"While this heats up I'm going back to the kitchen, don't worry you won't be alone with your thoughts for long."
>With a wave of her wingtips she trotted out of view yet again.

>The tell tale creak of wood alerted Sand Cutter that somepony was coming down the stairs.
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351288
351291
>>351286
'I could make it an order.'
'stop killing me all over again witch, i dont need to be digitally harassed'
'Soon, you will not be dead and then I can harass you in person. Is that acceptable?'
'hate you'
'You too, Andronal.'

>Marely checking you out with a tinge of worry, Raindrop's head tips.
>Deciding you were fine, she continues her in-armor stretching, also making you wonder how much room there was given her strained puffing noises.

>The Moon doesn't respond outwardly, unless you were to count the vast, shimmering Mares across the surface.
>Deeefinitely larger than Terra's moon, you realize.

"From what I was told, currency is communally shared here. Makes it easier to transfer in case you want something. And if you ever have to take a loan there's no interest for fifty years minimum. Naliyna will probably be back in a bit."
>Pausing to wriggle her snout furiously, the Free Knight glares down the itch until it subsides, then looks up, both eyebrows raise.
>And curve.
>That was a sign, but why? And for what?
"I know just the place. There's a room above the Workshop with some really neat tools. Stairs up to it are on the south side of the Workshop, meet me there."
>Grinning at your rush of nervous energies, her armored wings lift to wave side from side.
"I think a captain's platter will be enough to share with Chisan if he wants, too. Seafood fresh as can be with some fruit and lots of drinks."
>Turning about to face the Pagoda, Raindrop stops, head swiveling back to drop a terribly sinister and probably sanctioned smile.
"Miss Castella.. you're cute."

>Ears flicking in wide circles as she stiff walks back into the Pagoda, nothing more is said while she speaks to the Remnant again, leaving you mentally stumbling over what was just agreed to.
>And why.
Sand Cutter
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351289
351373
>>351287
"Much remains unheard to us as well. Greatest mistake of Stalliongrad was spurning contact after Alicorn War."
>Pushing herself slowly around to face her left side at the fire, the Lady Knight's lips tighten into thin lines.
"He knows not of Lucky's contempt against three alicorns, accursed Red Salt she spread within her own city, nor the deeply gouging prices demarended of Razorback? Is hard to accept. Half of Councilierge made oaths to bring down thieves. Great Moon and Solars accepted."
>The mare frowns, left eyebrow cocking in thought.
"Know a great amount I do. Of loose tongues corrupt Watch were, cared little should prisoners hear. Proof I have not, yet, but know names, times, locations, acts, bodies, burials of weapons."
>Sand Cutter makes one slow blink, opening her mouth to speak, then stops with eyebrows furrowed.
"I.. to speak none else I shall for now, apologies, yet of time I would ask later to speak more."

>Taking a short, rattling inhale and releasing it, reaching up to pat her chest briefly Sand's lips curling back in a faintly hopeful smile.
"The best of news I have heard this night. May she rest eternal."
>Scrunching mightily at Budieca's implications, Sand's eyes shut with a dry giggle.
"Have thought of stallions to take for myself but wrong times, places. Worried to avoid lewd mares first I was!"
>Nodding at the Gryphoness leaving, Sand leans forwards to relax, flicking her ears down to avoid the unusual sounds from above.

>Blinking back the steady thoughts of sleeping right there and lifting her head, she gives a stifled sideways nod.
"My thank.. s?"
>Gingerly rotating towards the creaking sounds, Sand pauses to place her right forehoof down, eyes glancing into the fire to give quiet praise.
"Stone bless this home, Moon above thy night is warm."
[1d6 = 1] <Earthwalk
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.351291
351300
>>351288
>Mallia examines the two "machine spirits"' animosity, double-checking the transmissions to see if this was a noteworthy hostility that she had to account for.
>Being flustered doesn't stop her from replying with a note of seriousness.
(... As an Enginseer. I would rather not force something like that on Andronal if he doesn't want it.)
(Ideally you should be perfectly comfortable with your artificial bodies.)

>In the meantime however, Mallia was still rubbing along her (increasingly red) cheek while watching them wriggle her snout like that.
>And that strange facial expression that comes after.
(I can't tell if that's a good sign...)
([ᶠᵃᶦⁿᵗ ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᶦⁿᵍ])
>She arches her brow with concern, a flustered but still genuine smile twitching on her lips. Rapidly nodnodding in acknowledgement to the location of the meet, then smiling a bit more broadly at the food choice.
>... But she couldn't get a remark out in time before the 'you're cute'.
>And then Raindrop turns and leaves, just like that.
>Flabbergaster, she blurts the first thing on her mind while the knight was still within earshot.

"Y-yeah well--you're pretty awesome yourself!"

>She eventually lowers her hand from her cheek and puts it on her side, her mechadendrite joining it by placing the side of it's manipulator claw on her other side while the actual hand for that side nervously runs a pair of fingers along the tendril's metallic surface.

(... What even is that gait?)
>Mallia leaned and took a few steps to watch where Raindrop was going, and observes them, from where she is, as they interact with the Remnant given she was still kind of just, standing there.

>After a good moment, Mallia swallows her lip. Takes a moment to take a DEEP breath... And then goes back to thinking again. Trying to make room for more useful thoughts aside from worrying about a dinner with her own personal knight in shining armour.
>She casts a look in the general direction of the Library--where she expected Chisan to be returning from.

>... But, while she waited, she may as well try to learn something she very much wanted to know.

(... Okay so, Admiral. I have a big question.)
(So. Chisan's Auspex is... Dead, beyond the abilities of my resurrection rituals that I was taught. It's totally smashed... But, since you are all Inquisition and we have a line to Inquisitor Velasi of the Ordo Chronos, do you all perhaps, maybe, have access to the more elaborate Tech-Wright rituals at a clearance of Magus and above?... That I could use to potentially save that machine spirit?)
(... I'll take anything. If there is a chance I can save them I'll do it.)
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351293
351314
>>351135
>Hearing that there weren't more of these creatures inside Razorback, Bubba mentally relaxed a little.
>Safety of the Fortress was one of his priorities.

>Listening to her explanation, Bubba slowly came to a realization on where it came from.
>Glancing at Peach, he figured she knew as well now.

"Yes. Yes we do."
>Letting out a sigh, he looked down at Tawi.
"We're not going to kill you now, because of what you said. In fact, you're now very useful to us. So, let's cut you a deal."
>He shifted down a little to look at at her in more of a level gaze.
"You work with us, we get what you recall down on paper. In return, you'll have somewhere safe to live again, as long as you're not causing anymore disturbances."
>He gave her a softer look.
"And I'll even apologize for hitting you with a Void infused rocket."
>He also had to apologize to the Pagoda still.
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351298
351315 351325
>>351283

>Lont blinked albeit slowly with heavy eyelids.
>Well he felt as if he did, he wasn't so sure. He was sure of two things however.
>The first he was now lying on the floor of the clinic and the world around him a shade of red due to Nova's protective bubble and the pink mist beyond it. And the second being Nova's flank was incredibly comfy, he could almost believe he was resting atop Cadence.
>Almost.
>He moved his hand to his face and saw afterimages of movement. He twirled his wrist and moved his fingers and was hypnotized for a very, very long time. His arm fell back down on its own accord eventually.
>He jostled his head deeper into Nova to get more comfortable, such movement made the world around him jostle too but for far longer. So much so he had to shut his eyes tight before he would puke.
>With his eyes closed and head on a comfy pillow his mind began to wonder as his body began to shut down.

>Why was he on the floor again? Because of the vial. Why was he using that vial? To save Tacit.
"Waaht iis wrongh wit Taceet?"
>He slurred.
>"Because he was dying from his injuries."
>His thoughts replied, more coherently than his spit filled mouth.
"Ouuuch who hort hiiiim?"
>"He was fighting a monster that an escaping Ward unleashed."
"Whhhy he fight Wardssss?"
>"They too are monsters."
"Ooooh maks seense I s'pose..."
>"We need him alive to learn of Lucky."
"Aaye Luchy, hows she doin?"
>"She is dead, executed and from what we could gather it happened some time ago."
"Haaaahh..?!"

>Lont sat up. Too quickly and now the world was spinning again, he rubbed his hands against his temple.
"Waaaaah...?"
>"She has been killed without our knowledge, no one informed us. We need to get this news out to the rest of Razorback, we need to get everything Tacit knows out of his head."
"Sooounds lik a plaaan."
>Groggily Lont swung his head towards the doors and went to leave but his legs failed him. He instead thumped hard against the floor and was now the little spoon to Nova.
>"Without Lucky at the reigns who is in charge of Las Pegasus, it will be prudent to ask why no one from Las Pegasus called for any of us to help Lucky or inform us of her fate. If we were informed we could of done something sooner, perhaps use our good relations within the Empire to save her. Now get up!"
>Nodding to himself, he tried to get up. But the dead weight of his gear and unresponsive limbs really made that difficult for him, so he rolled onto his back, Nova Flickers snoot right against his ear.
"Weeel git on thaaaht inna bit, gotta rest muh eyes a liiiil..."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351300
351552
>>351291
'You have seen the schematics for the Mark 3 Warmare platform, it is completed. That is to be mine. Andronal's is the Mark 2 Warstallion variant, which is currently on hold. I was unable to miniaturize a reasonably efficient micro-warhead shell for his usage. As for the biological capability that is still a work in progress as we lack the ability to produce synthmuscle and making contact with the Malurian Clan's Wildshaper caste is difficult.'
'too late, Flash sanctioned the biocomponents half year ago. i just dont want to keep being REMINDED OF THEM'
'If you were not so easy to rile then I would not do so, Andronal. Consider it from our position: we no longer have a body to inhabit yet our consciousnesses were saved in such a state that we are able to perfectly recall what being mortal felt like. Scent, taste, touch, sound, physical sensations among other far more delec-.'
'KEEP FILING PLEASE. need to drown out everything'
'Certainly!'
>Even in the neon red light of this pastel world, Navy and Guard couldn't get along without one-upping each other somehow.

>Witch-Two blips a merry laugh into your MIU's interface nodes.
'Local equines make friends more quickly than humans do on account of being more emotional and in tune with their environment. That walk is a reflection of how she thinks of you: a good friend, one she may share her time with free from troubles and worry. Raindrop is honoring your knowledge, expertise, skills. She is also using her own species' body language to indicate she feels comfortable with you.'

>Gazing through the Pagoda's open entrances at the Library south, you experience a warhound retriever moment: Chisan had left to the north in the Workshop's direction.
>"Cease injuring yourself", the Magos said, "Naturally grown biological components are HIGHLY delicate!"

>Pinging back, Admiral Dranaki's datatone was one of contemplation.
'We do indeed, yet the damage to the Scion's Auspex was enough to destroy the bio datawafers. The Inquisitor examined and confirmed it is deceased. Do not despair Castella, it will be given a proper funerary service and interred in the Tech-Forge.'
>From the south you could swear feeling the grief of an Inquisitor screaming 'Flowers in my storage bins!? MANESY AND MAGIC CRAP!'
>...nah, that was only the odd datacodes flitting throughout the Fortress.

>Receiving an open low band commbead ping, Chisan was huffing loudly.
*"Enginseer, this unit weighs more than I am able to move. Have acquired aid from grandmaster smith, ten to fifteen minutes until I return. Advise leisure until then."*

>As you watch Raindrop shed her heavy wingblades and stack them across her saddle, a gleaming coin, gold by the color, is tossed into the translocation matrice, emitting an audible vacuum noise.
>Nodding several times she starts to turn, then stops, head cocking at the semi-transparent fuchsia pony arriving.
>Head jerking forwards to eye something out of sight, the pegasus Knight snickers loudly.
>Probably going to be busy for a while.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351304
351316
>>351255
>Assenting with a nod, Pareidolia scoops the strange paper iguana onto his arm.
(Already familiar with some of these entries. Lacsidrae will undoubtedly useful. Enchantment nullifiers too risk laden and bulky to work with.)

>Checking across his vest pockets and backpack with his other hand, he removes the unusual bill Spiral had addressed to Princess Yearning Touch and the inert marble Construct body storing them in separate compartments in his storage chest.
>Then exiting the barracks, he makes his way to the Library and upon reaching the entrance sets the iguana down in the grass nearby.
"Hope you make a better pet than actual iguanas."
>He would then make for the mailbox outside the Lab to retrieve the stack of maps, documents, and the detector.
Razorback Fortress: South of the Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351314
351327
>>351293
>Reforming into a mass of rope and bundles, Tawi's 'head' flinches at your first word.
>Tilting back as you squat down, the pseudo-eyes stare unblinkingly until turning to Peach Drop, whom clicks her tongue.
"Don't apologize juuuuust yet Bubba. What's the flat object inside you, a core?"
>Reaching inside herself with one of the few bundles that was still cohesive, the shifter retrieves a 6" long, 3" wide flat partially transparent blue object:
>You knew exactly what it was: a secure storage Crystal hololith plate that might still be functional, so did Peach judging by her ear flicking.
>Setting it down in front of the Arcane blade, Tawi makes a disgruntled noise of leaves and grass scraping together.
"The big sigh-ons had it. I took it from her armor when I was searching for my locket. She didn't say what it was and I don't know either. You can have it."
>Head bending down to study the faded purple streaks across what was left of her body, the shifter's face pinching.
"I accept, and you don't have to apologize I've been.. really mean while I've stayed here. I only know how to write Common, is that okay?"
>Making a small claw motion from you to the holoplate and mouthing 'check it?', Peach Drop's tone settles into conciliation.
"That's not a problem, Common's the first language most ponies learn. There's a bunch of scraps in the Workshop under Lann's desk, big wooden box. Know what it is?"
"I think so."
"Great, you have my permission to take them. Once you're back together come see me in the Command Center."
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351315
351325 351651
>>351298
>Pillow? Secured.
>Nova? Reasonably safe, she'd hit floors plenty in her time and was virtually immune to concussions.
>Contact high? ...no wonder Tipper said even having Ambrosia was worth the two to six felonies she might have been charged with, if caught.
>Settling on the snuggly, warm, softly snoozing mare, it was an excellent time for a batnap.
>Too bad there weren't any leathery wings to grasp around you.
[1d6 = 1] <Stage 1: Ascendant
Razorback Fortress: Spiral's Lab
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351316
351319
>>351304
>Set down to stare at the new surroundings, the party favor iguana's head turns upwards, an approximation of hope reading in its.. paper mache eyes.
>Front shoulders lifting to shrug, it was highly unlikely a pseudocreate of its like, or make, would pose any difficulties outside of keeping it from dampness.

>Routing back south, upon passing the Pagoda you overhear Perlann discussing the bizarre Enclave incident with Naliyna, and why an altar of all items would be necessary for 'thouzudn year old crazy pony magic'.

>Entering the Library, Kalatrine was no longer on the couch from before, most of the ceiling's glowstone lights dimmed to a faint level.
>Cracking the door leading down and stepping in, avoiding Flash's blood stains the whole way, the only change you noticed upon entering the lab was a faint electronic crackling from the hidden storage room.
>Opening the mail box and carefully storing everything, the ground analyzing system emits a short hum as its moved, display lighting up once more.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351319
351321
>>351316
>Realizing that paper mache would be unsuitable for a damp outdoor environment but not wanting to waste time, he props the entrance door for the iguana open to allow it into the Library.
"It should be suitable for you in here, since you're also made of paper. Don't damage any of the books."
>Making his way into the basement, he notes the bloodstains.
(What the hell did Flash do here... ?)

>Shifting his backpack as he picks up the crystalline tablet, he begins checking its menu bar.
(F8... Language dropdown menu...)

>Tilting his helmet down to read the interface, he attempts to see if Discord's claims were correct and there was a "Common" language option.
Razorback Fortress: Spiral's Lab
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351321
351323
>>351319
>Thoughts it couldn't possibly speak roll through the pseudo-iguana's consciousness, before nodding and trudging inwards to find a safer place.

>Brightening to a readable level, the options from before scroll across the center screen, numbering them as you retranslate:
>Cardinal Direction, Travel Speed, Geography, Regional Map, Height Distance, Depth Distance, Elemarental Detection Radius, Resonance Detection Radius: #8.
>Pressing that one and finding a small radar-like screen intended to specify distance, that wasn't it, nor were Flora Detection Radius, Fauna Detection Radius, and Detection Strength.
>Pressing number twelve, some names of various flora, fauna, objects, and ponies that you could translate appear in a flowchart: an expansive file system, probably featuring cross-referencing capabilities.
>Backing out by tapping twelve again, then trying number thirteen, the screen fills with a host of standard languages, Crystal Kingdom first, Crystal Empire second, and Common Equestrian third, next to what looked like batpony scratch-script.
>Discord's statement of 'F8' was partial hyperbole.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351323
351330
>>351321
>Swiping through the various incorrect options, he finally finds the language input option.
[Should've expected this. Annoyingly roundabout explanations.]
>He sighs in annoyance as he selects Common Equestrian and climbs the stairs back out to the foyer.

>Familiarizing itself with at least some of its functionality in preparation for the upcoming operation, he heads towards the Pagoda.
[Why would Spiral not bring this with him? Did his split cores serve the same function?]
>Drawing close to the strange altar he'd seen from a distance, he looks it over for any possible hints to its function.
Pretty Pink Pastel Plushies Playing Puffy Ponies
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351325
351651
>>351298
>>351315
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Delayed Growth
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Mortal Coil
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Trauma
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351327
351377
>>351314
>Bubba let out a snort at being told not to apologize yet.
>He wasn't planning on doing it again.
>His gaze was focused on the hololith plate as it was produced, eyebrows raising a bit.
>"Interesting."

"And most of us humans know what they call Common as well. With... varying dialects at times, but we're mostly understandable."
>Save for some very thick accents.
>Like Cajun.
>Leaning over, Bubba would idly collect the plate, looking it over closer.
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351330
351334
>>351323
>Still avoiding the blood stains from Flash's terribly timed encounter with the Starblazer earlier, after closing the door you catch sight of the green iguana basking in a chair under the closest window.
>It gives you a short clawed wave, then returns to soaking in Moon light.

>Running through the long winded name model's standard features, the design was explicitly for ruin exploration and relic collection.
>One could probably search for resonant, psychoreactive, magical, and arcane materials if they knew the specifics.
>Trying to access the Objective Storage, a few dozen 'files' were available for perusal; names of ponies, objects, items, location markers, map grid data.
>Astra Galus was not listed, though the last image taken, somewhere in a rocky outcropping under a calm Moon.
>A black half-armored batpony, unicorn in the same, and the tense, archaic speaking young mare that Dancing Eyes had crippled, were all clustered around a cache of recovered Dynasty era weapons.
>Your skin crawls at the top section of the image: standing behind the four was NOT what could be considered 'human'.

>Wearing the regal, expensive black leather coat the young earth mare now had, between the flaps was an imprint of heavily reinforced fiber mesh weave armor, far too technologically advanced for the Underground to produce.
>A wide flat brimmed black hat covered the hair, directly underneath a pair of expensive sunglasses in solid platinum.
>Two piercing red glows from bright eyes behind the solid black lenses gave off visible distortions in the image, which not even Enchained could do, the skin an unusually bright silver-white tinge.
>Smiling wide and proudly at the viewer, two longer than usual white canines protruded down to the lower lip.
>Expensive black leather pants and combat boots that only a young nobleite could afford contrasted with a hefty hiking backpack, a compound bow on the left and at least 20 arrows jutting upwards.
>Slung over the right shoulder was a near-SPAS derivative in perfect shape, except with a solid stock, some form of hololith like targeting scope, and had a drum magazine under the well.
>Around the waist was an armored runner's kit faintly bulging with pistol magazines and shells, while both legs had satchel webbing carrying a variety of fractal explosives, something none in Razorback, outside possibly Flash, had access to.
>A predator in every sense of the word.

>Reaching the Pagoda, Naliyna was currently sorting through new letters and a few notices, too absorbed in work to notice.
>Above the altar were two sentences written in Common, Perlann's somewhat sketchy claw writing apparent, indicating that Duty and Use could be exchanged by placing one's hand, hoof, or claw on it.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351334
351372
>>351330
>Scrolling through the listings, menus, and options he stops as the by all accounts unusual image is brought on screen.
>Narrow his eyes in disbelief, the tablet is rotated and moved back and forth.
[A technical glitch? How is this possible? Stereotypical vampire, Helsing lookalike?]
>A gloved hand draws the distortion closer to the screen, then further away.
[Whatever Vandal is... clearly not human. If he is what he appears to be, his expertise in blood and virology makes much more sense...]

>Closing out of the image browser, he stows the tablet for the time being.
[Will need to return this to Galus.]

>Reading over the explanation for the altar, he grimaces at the obvious result of Silver's handiwork given the silverine gylphs carved by dragon claws.
[Loathe to continue involving her meddling, but I have no choice. The damage is already done.]

>Kneeling before the altar, he lays both his hands to their respective positions as indicated.

Exchange 1 Use to enhance Lightning Strike's effect, 2 Use to improve characteristics, 4 Duty to improve damage rolls by +4 (Total)
Remaining: 1 Use, 2 Duty

>He would then travel to the Enclave to acquire the Prestaniszcio, Mythril Burst Staff, Slumbering Wrath, Lacsidrae, Blood-Corrupted Water Elemental Shards, Ghost-Speak Ring, Smoke After Dusk, Spectral Chisel, Negation Amulet, Burst Pendant, and Psychokinesis Pendant.
Razorback Enclave
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351372
351382
>>351334
>Bringing the distortion into focus, the perfect circles starting from the entirely visible red eyes to spread outwards, creating overlapping incandescent rings.
>He was trying to block the effect using Early Dynasty Era black diamondine, which did not work at close range.
>The effect was far less pronounced when zoomed out, instead shown as tiny pinpricks of red.

>Observing the unusual glyphs brighten and begin to swirl from your position, in older Common no less, smaller text appears to read:
Unknown sapient confirmed. Partial genetic match to extinct Middle Ape/Lesser Gorilla species. Subject evolution far beyond estimated parameters. Irrelevant.
Sapient Implementation of Objective 2-2-0 recorded. First recorded success. Project Stage Four achieved, Stage Five now acting.
Your Duty is known in defending others. Your Use to defend them is known to yourself. Your progeny will carry the success of our project into eternity.
Honor the Storms and your Kin, unknown one.
I grant your desires.
>Soft threads of lighting trickle from the altar through into your hands, warmly spreading throughout your tired muscles in relieving arcs.
>Remaining in the kneeling pose until the arcs and text fade, your heart then beats in strong, entirely stable rhythms.
>Upon standing, what little sensation you had of your soul shifts to accommodate it's new, foreign, yet comfortable knowledge.

>Stepping onto the translocation stone and selecting Razorback Enclave, the Remnant decides it was a business matter, smoothly delivering you through a dull red tunnel.
>Barely moving as you're delivered to the still ridiculously busy reactivated Enclave, there were now at least a copule hundred retired Starborn Lorekeepers in attendance, spread throughout.
>At least two dozen more, unfamiliar to you, were roving the open lines of tables in front of each section, the majority of course being unicorns.
>30M south of the matrice were ten friendly batponies from the Cult of the Dark Horse, judging by their distinct basic robes and overburdened saddlepacks, were here as well, seated at newly placed low tables and carefully paging through stacks of tomes.
>Amerose had quite busy.

>Pacing through each section, being stopped only so a note could be taken on the name of what you were picking up, you don't even see the Head Lorekeeper once amidst the older Starborn by the time you're done.
Budieca and Ri'Vahz
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351373
351375 351399
Sand Cutter Poking Elusine 2.png
>>351289

>As Sand Cutter glanced into the fire, it spat at her due to moisture being trapped within a wooden log erupting from the surrounding heat, sending tiny embers to land at her hoof.
>At that moment, as the embers burnt away their heat she felt as if she was disconnected from the earth beneath her. The senses were dulled, like she was submerged under water. It was clawing and all enveloping, the one thing she could hear and feel was her rapidly beating heart filling the soundless void and-
>A spasm jolted through her body and she was once more connected to Tallus, everything was brought back into focus.
>She must of been holding her breath as she was gasping, taking in lungful's of the circular rooms heady air.

"Are'ya alright down there Earth Pony?"
>Came the shrill voice of a female Gryphon from above her. Stopped halfway down the stairs was Ri'Vahz, the white of her white and green feathered plumage appearing as a soft peach colouring due to the fire. The same dancing flame twinkled in her predatory eyes yet their was only concern in them.
>She resumed walking down the stairs though at a slightly quicker pace Sand Cutter noted.
"You croaking for air and the way ya look it made me think you were about to take a permanent nap."
>She joked trying to lighten the mares mood as she stopped a mares length away.

"My Warlord Ri'Vahz the pony wants to talk to you~!"
>Came the melodic chirping of Budieca from within the kitchen. There was something else there too, focusing Sand Cutter heard a tapping sound and...sizzling?
>The ruler of the Vale mouthed something off silently as her tail twitched.
"Yes. How astute and helpful you are Subject, thank you."
>A cackle reverbed from the kitchen, and when that died down Sand Cutter heard the sizzling change in pitch with a stench coming sooner after.
"And keep your laughter down Swe is trying to sleep!"
>Cawed back Ri'Vahz,

>Ruffling her wings which were tight against her side, where a few small feathers fell free, she full body turned to nod her head at Sand Cutter before plodding her hind quarters down. Ensuring her tail was away from the open fire.
>The Warlords eyes danced across the body of Sand Cutter, recollecting memories.
"You are Sand Cutter, yes?"
>She asked hesitantly, wondering if she got the name right first go.
Anonymous
4fc04fa
?
No.351375
boop.gif
>>351373
Razorback Fortress: South of The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351377
351383
>>351327
>Less defensive and more having difficulty looking up at you, the shifter's 'face' broadens.
"Oh. I haven't listened to a lot of minotaur-kin before. Except the ones from Crete, they're easy to understand like you are."
"Funny, I hate dealing with them."
>Peach Drop reaches to pass the plate up for you, then motions towards the north.
"Come on Tawi, I'll show you know where's safe to be. Also gotta tell everyone and everypony what's up."
>Watching the Planar nod, then flail a bit as the Arcade Blade picks her up and is flung onto the mare's saddle with a grin.
"Catch you later Bubba!"
>Taking off at a brisk trot, your radio picks up the merry mare's first communication.
*"Somewhat friendly identified, stand and hoof down please. Squad leads switch to T-A-B channel-"*

>Inspecting the holoplate, it was one of the better Crystal Empire brands Naliyna loved due to excellent recording characteristics, durability, and could be encrypted to a point where only one individual was able to access the contents.
>The near-perfect seam where it had been painstakingly cut down from being a perfect 6" circle, the lack of damage and tiny wear indicated it had been done within a year.
>Strangely, the material that had been removed was done by a Psion of at least Master rank, not a Crystal Engineer.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351382
351389
>>351372
>Pareidolia frowns, his lips curling into a slight sneer of disgust as the glyphs begin to shift.
[Don't act like my intent is understood by you, whatever ancient magic fuels you. 'Defending others', tch. You've no idea what needs defending from who.]

>Exhaling and flexing his hands as he stands, he gives one final annoyed look and a shake of his helmet at the altar before stepping towards the translocation matrice.
>Thankfully everything is retrieved without issue.
>Attaching the staves to his back via his Sticky enchantment and ensuring the other books, pendants, and curios were secure in his pack, he heads back to his room in the Barracks to confirm the status of his two A.I.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351383
351392
>>351377
"Just wait until you find someone from the same neck of the woods that I am originally."
>Hick may not even begin to explain his swamp-folk origins.
>Good thing the UAS was not exactly super strict with recruitment.
"Yeah, see y'all later."
>Giving the two a nod, he finds a seat to focus on the holoplate.

>Running his thumb over the face of it, he carefully looks it over.
"Very interesting.."
>He'd mutter, before putting it up in a pocket.
Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351389
351396
>>351382
>Passing back into the Pagoda once more, while leaving the north entrance you find most of the Fortress buildings featuring a pair of the heavy turrets from earlier.
>Positioned north and south, or east and west, those humans still awake and not exhausted were heading to them in threes with each squad leader carrying a radio set.

>Back in your room now, 'Tipper' was showing a flash-list of Razorback's individual humans, their skill sets, common loadout, known Era, the other silent and unmoving.
>Moving on to in a flowchart to known allies and associated factions, the prototype A.I. gives you a tiny nod before changing to short, medium, long, extreme term problems.
>Progress of a sort.
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351392
351398
>>351383
>Wandering into the Pagoda, and barely noting a black shape across from Naliyna's stall, you take the most comfortable seat next to the trading tent.
>The edges had been made by a near-exact cutting force, not shearing, a capability Broken Hoof demonstrated numerous times throughout the Fortress.
>Sitting still for a bit, a tiny, burnt ozone scent of finely tuned psionics is released from the face.

>You don't have to wait long as Naliyna returns, shoulder pushing a 6'x6'x6' Empire crystal crate through a subdued rainbow gateway.
>Not a crate you realize, it was a box with zero attachmarent points, rope, or any external markings.
>Fully sealed at that, and not including the pinniped type.
>Shoving it off the translocation stone to nearly block the south entrance and taking a deep breath, the scar covered mare coughs once, front hoof lifting to rub her snout.
"Probably should've asked for spares."
>Humming loudly, the top is floated off and set down in front of her trade table, turning about to land eyes on you.
>Blinking once, the trademare lifts a hoof in greeting with a calm smile, the south block removed and set down outside.
"Hi Bubba. Sorry about the wait, had to go find some real armor. The old style Killknights use is so rare only a few of the Conclaves even bother to keep an extra, they don't make any more than they have to and nopony around the Spire wants to make one. Er, I'm off track, do you need something?"
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351396
351402
>>351389
(Hopefully sufficient progress has been made for at least standard operating capacity to be achievable. Not much time left before the operation.)
>Leaving the A.I. to their information exchange, he seats himself on the bed while recalling Hodch's words about summoning Dul.
(It's been months since that Island encounter. Unclear how this will function, but I need to assemble what I can.)

>He informs his A.I. company.
"I will attempt to summon Dul to have them accompany me to retrieve Spiral. Unusual, purple energy based planar Siren being from 'The Vortex' who apparently owes me a favor."

>Looking down to where Hodch had once pointed, despite the fact the mark Dul had given was not visible currently he would hold a glove over where it was revealed.
"Dul, I request a meeting."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351398
351403
>>351392
>Giving her a nod, Bubba noted that she looked less likely to have a heart attack at the slightest of unfortunate news.
>Much like him now, now that he thought about it briefly.
"Howdy there, feeling better?"
>He gave her a small grin, idly showing off the plate.
"Shit went fucky while you were gone, Engineer came back. Blew up a Vortex creature of sorts named Tawi. She's been a pain in our ass for a while."
>He shrugged a little.
"She's going to work for us now."
Sand Cutter
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351399
351470
>>351373
>Soaking in the despair of her weakness, the mare numbly returns to mortality, then cough-neigh chokes from the unexpected voice.
>Head jerking up and directly at the surprise Gryphon, Sand blanks out until hearing Budieca's voice.
"I.. wanted to do so."
>Eyes swiveling towards the kitchen and back at the banter, her snout twitches furiously at the unfamiliar smell.
>Giving one last stare at the fire, she sits up straight to face the slightly more familiar hybrid, jaw clenching once.
"Yes, Ancient Fang War Lord. Name I cannot pron.. prune.. prawn.. ...say easily. We met in land of tainted filth and ruined pyramid."
>Eyes drifting up and left in recall, the Lady Knight clears her throat, ears flattening as her right forehoof lifts to point at the door.
"After I left your.. enforcers? Guard? ..they took the satchel and forced my walk through matrice on path. Stopped them close to this home. I misspoke, inten.. intendon? No, not right word. Common is third language, not know it well. I asked of them to slow or carry. Both left. Could walk no more."
>Motioning with her left hoof at the patchwork of scars, lips curling back angrily.
"Laid down, rested in.. not same cold as Stallionrad. Felt flames through earth. Walked here, asked entrance to warm for short time."
>Exhaling in relief at the fire next to her, Sand Cutter turns her head towards it though kept her eyes on Ri'Vahz with a faint grimace.
"Am no psion, nor use.. you? Ewes? ..no use I have of earth magics. Am awaiting warm water, stench of death thick on my coat."
Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351402
351404
>>351396
>Communicating with her opposite silently, 'Tipper' swivels around to face you, Shiibo doing the same.
"Understood sir. do you promise not to freak out again?"
"I don't need to promise."
>The voice was a close match except for being a bit more harsh than it probably should have been.
"Great! I'm curious to see what form this 'Siren' will take. The Vortex rather is considered to be rather bizarre throughout the Planes and most humans have next to no contact with it."

>Crossing hands to find the stamp, of course on the right, a small film of raises through the material and away from you three meters to take on the shape of three long, slender purple claws carrying a scroll.
>You could, faintly, sense it as an imprint of ka, or close enough to register.
>Unfolding out of the glyph into a cloud of hazy black, two bright purple eyes open, blink, then curve as if smiling.
"Dul felt mark of heart. Dul is here now!"
>Shaping into an earth mare's body, the rest of her form solidifies and takes on weight, except for the wispy mane and tail floating about in erratic patterns.
"We meet again and now. You of strange Vortex need Dul service?"

>Thoroughly fascinated, the 'Tipper' A.I. leans forwards while Shiibo gazes, half-mollified, half curious, and somewhat irritated.
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351403
351409
>>351398
>Whistling in a vibrating tone, the box side opposite you is pulled off and placed outside.
"I am now! You have no idea how hard it is to find really good armor in the Empire, it's either some mass produced nonsense or you'll get a six month waiting list with twenty to fifty visits for mods, fitting, whatever else. That's the whole reason I had Bren put a real crystalshop together but it took months just to get the slabs for it."
>Half winded from exertion, the other half still coming off her adrenaline high, Naliyna turns to eye the plate.
"Is that.. no, that's not Exploration brand."
>Leaving the box and quickstepping towards you, she lifts the modified plate from you to peer at with a low hum, glancing up with a cheerful smile that turns into a flat stare.
"The first is really good to hear, second is.. ..okay? I guess? Helping hooves or whatever are always good around here. Vortex.. don't know much about them other than being weirder than other Planes. This though-"
>Lifting up the 60% intact holoplate to sniff at, the fuchsia mare recoils in horror.
"What."
>Leaning forwards to take only the barest scent, Naliyna backs away to actually inhale, looking over it in to you in rising confusion.
"Why did an earth psion have one of these, remove the InterPony, and take off the resolith section? The only thing this could have are maybe voice recordings, pictures, documarents. Without the InterPony it's basically useless. Also I forgot to ask the most important question: where's this FROM? ...and the second one: where'd you get it?"
>She was still a bit scattered, but nowhere near as bad as a year ago.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351404
351410
EF9TleiU4AMgk4-.jpg
>>351402
>His visored helmet follows the glyph upwards as it unfurls into the same Earth pony he'd seen back on Khahlani.
>Nodding in response, he states:
"Yes. I need you to accompany me and the rest of a team in finding and retrieving a pony named Spiral. Whatever stopped him from coming back here is likely very strong. I don't know how long you can stay, but whatever you can spare would be appreciated."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351409
351415
>>351403
"I'll be honest, I don't."
>He really did have no idea, he's never been there before.
"The problem is that she was... very not nice before today. She's the reason people thought Hodch went apeshit for a bit, she mimicked him near perfectly."
>He hummed a bit, obviously expecting the 'what' from her.
"Where it was from originally, I don't know. Tawi gave it to Peach and I before she was dragged off by Peach to be interrogated further."
>He leaned forward a bit.
"As for where she came from, she's a witness to the carnage that occured at Luna's Memorial Village. Which is one of the main reasons why Peach and I didn't finish her off after questioning her."
Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351410
351416
>>351404
>Stretching out her half-corporeal body into a more defined version, Dul's eyes flicker with a wide smile.
"Dul does not know pony name. Dul stays hundredcycles in pony lands outside of Vortex.."
>Raising the front right leg and curling it under her, the purple Siren bows heavily towards the floor, the aery feminine voice takes on a coldly serious timbre.
"Dul accepts task. Other Sirens will perform Dul's routes."
>Righting herself, the earth mare-like form lifts off the polished floor half a meter, hooves turning into solid, elongated four-jointed claws.
"Where go?"

>Still mollified yet expressing brutal intrigue, 'Shiibo' faces 'Tipper'.
"You didn't say th-"
"I warned you that physical, immaterial, and hundreds more inbetween beings of and NOT of this world, including numerous unique examples, were fully capable of altering their realspace projections."
>Arms folded, the standard A.I. appears resentful.
"Before you interrupted me I was going to say: you didn't say some beings were this bizarre."
"Ohhhh that's riiiiight! I didn't get to point since you interrupted me. Now can we finish running through all of my collected data or will we argue for the next hour about one being type that I haven't encountered yet whom are from a thoroughly unexplored Plane of existence that's barely known to the inhabitants of this world?"
>The standard folds her arms, making a contempt-ridden nod.
"Make it quick."
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <B.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351415
351417
>>351409
"Oh."
>Wincing to herself, Naliyna ignores the fuck huge box, instead turning to half-trot into her stall.
>Sending her hololith out to thump down on the trade table, she follows after it to take a seat on her short couch, giving you a pensive look that turns into umbrage.
"Wait a.."
>Yep!
"What?! Is THAT why half everypony and everyone here we-
>Momarentarily looking as if she was about to bite the table again in the same spot, Naliyna settles for slipping the holoplate into the top slot of her hololith, mouthing silent swears and curses all the while.

>You do recall a Watch Psion had been keeping it safe after the Watch Guard's surrender to Luna.. among other possibly important things.
[1d2 = 1] <Golden Retriever moment

>A soft chime sounds from the color shifting unit, her tone changes to a more reasonable furious that subsides as she speaks.
>By about ten percent.
"...Memorial Village? Okay. Okay. ...I remember half of that mission. The team didn't finish their search, a pony on fire attacked them or they attacked it. Never found a.. something or other that's normally Spectral. I don't care if that Tawi twit is the nicest creature ever and only became a little SHITBAG for a while, I'm going to track it down and shove a Rime bottle down it's throat if this plate doesn't have answers to at very minimum two important matters."
>Poking a non-physical button on the hololith, a display projects from it.. of course in Crystal Pony, Kingdom dialect.
>Humming in an up-down cast, the language changes to Common, showing a series of large pink words with icons underneath them:
>Images, Messages, Voice-Only Records, Voiceless Motion Capture Records, Motion Capture Records, Documarents, Records, Status.
>Ten more were unavailable, the text and icons scratched out except for one reading as 'InterPony Messages'.
"That's.. weird? I didn't think one could remove both the resolith and exalith sections. There are some locked by access codes, give me a bit to figure them out but if any we can see are individually coded there's no way to open them, best we can get is the file or image name. While I'm working what do you want to take a look at?"
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] E.Crystal Engineering
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351416
351419
>>351410
(One hundred cycles? Likely days. Hopefully sufficient window of time.)
>Pareidolia exhales lightly in relief.
(At least the contract is simple.)

>Standing up as he notes the A.I.'s chatter, he speaks.
"Follow me for now. I need to acquire additional weapons and equipment before calling the team together. And-"
>Looking towards 'Tipper' and Shiibo.
"'Tipper', Shiibo don't forget the protocol in effect here. The sooner you manage to work as a team, the more efficient our progress will be. There's much at stake here."
>Pausing for a moment, he then proffers a Commitee half salute, right gloved fist over his heart.
"I... realized this gesture can finally be recognized given your background. May our work be fruitful."

>Ducking out of his room, he checks behind him to ensure Dul is following him and not wandering through walls into adjacent rooms before making his way across Razorback to the Armory.
"Is there anything you need to make your task here easier?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351417
351420
>>351415
"Oh yeah Peach and I were ready to delete her existence right there, but decided otherwise. Peach'll be tormenting her over it, I suppose."
>Tormenting being, at the moment, drilling her for any information about the attack.
>Probably.
>He could hear a modem in his head for a moment as he attempts to recall something, but shook his head.
>He'll figure it out later.

"Slaughtered an entire village full of guards without leaving any evidence aside from holes and gashes in armor and ponies. Investigation paused because of the new firepony and... Someone fucked up. Big time."
>He snorts a little.
"She'll sing like a songbird for now, so long as you help a bit with some words."

"I 'unno, mainly just thinking of how to apologize to the Vortex Remnant about my shitfit earlier."
Razorback Fortress: The Armory
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351419
351431
>>351416
>Halting the disagreemarent from 'Tipper' and 'Shiibo', the first raising an eyebrow at her opposite briefly before both swivel to face you.
"Of course sir. Tell Hodch to bring at least one Crystal Kingdom restorative, records on it are sketchy but one might delay his non-physical conditions for a few minutes. And.. there is also a Neighsian trader here according to Emerald's reports. Advise him to take a look at what she has for trade or sale. I'm sure he's never short on Bits"
>Snapping to instantly salute, the standard unit gives a short, formal bow.
"Understood sir. It's difficult understanding esoteric concepts, how realspace functions, 'magic'.. the locals are insufferably noncompliant but I won't let you down. May our work be fruitful."
>Giving the prototype a slightly offended expression, the two face each other again.
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]

"Dul follows!"
>Reforming the claws back into hooves, Dul sinks down to float-walk after you, the sound of oil running across glass, also pausing to close the door.
>Pausing as you do, her head looks up at the ceiling, then back down to you with a head shake, mane flying in abject patterns.
"Dul may only use weapons from Vortexes.. not this Vortex. Dul cannot carry big things. Dul's weapons now are.. Dul."
>Lifting the left 'foreleg' up to show off the claws again, you recall the indescribable draining properties it had, the Siren giving a sincere expression.
"Those are Dul's weapons. If strange Vortex weapons are here Dul may use them with permission."

>Trailing after you into the Workshop, Krinza, Lann, and a few of the first hundred humans were in view were clustered around both for repairs
>One of the older squad leaders lifts a hand to you, then gives the same to Dul with a credulous look, whom responds with a rapid hoof wave.
>Entering the Armory proper, it had been reorganized, yet again, the two north lines of tables loaded with uniforms, packs, satchels, belts, and other kit awaiting repair or recycling by Lann.
>Central were some extra close combat weapons, full or partial ammunition tins and boxes, and other debris awaiting recycling by Krinza, although the the weapons from Astra were dead center, bright neon notes and plaques in front of each.
>The south was entirely covered in miscellaneous camping, survival, and other gear.

>Gazing around the room in awe, Dul's eyes sharpen into hot purple, the 'ears' making wide circles.
"So many Vortexes inside! So many tastes! The same but not the same? ..Dul is confused."
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Siren's Watch
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351420
351421
>>351417
>Head lifting to gaze at the large glowstone in the center, Naliyna's ears flick before she snorts aloud.
"If she didn't ask me for a different mango each night I'd swear Peach Drop is a unicorn. Also never seen or heard of her trying to convince humans or ponies to bed her either. Probably why Shanis lets her stay here."
>Not quite literally digging into file directories, names, then lines of symbols and glyphs that make your eyes water, she speaks over the work with a, finally, calm voice.
"Right.. hundreds of Watch Guard, no evidence of weapons found. I should probably go through my Archive plates again.. soon.. WHEN I have more time. If 'Tawi' doesn't make me angrier than I was a minute ago I could use an assistant."
>A freezing shiver races up your spine at the thought of hauling items, reports, items, gems, and Bits from the here or Enclave to elsewhere.
>The shiver stops at remembering what the Planar bundle creature had done.

>Tracing through files at a rapid pace, the fuchsia mare pauses her work to offer you a pained look, pointing at the translocation matrice with her right ear.
"Bubba, it's right there. You can tell hi- er, it.. them? Them. I know they can be weird and obtuse at times but they mean well. Just be honest with what you say, trust me."
>Hearing a loud hum followed a series of pings, Naliyna jolts forwards on her low couch, left forehoof snapping up at the display reading 'All Objects Unlocked' as she shouts excitedly.
"I'VE GOT IT! Root access even WITHOUT the exalith! I don't remember a quarter the code words I used! Let's see what's inside-"
>Going through pages of notes, files, and what you guessed were formerly encrypted ciphers used for search terms at a rate that made your eyes water, again, it stops on the last one, the file header reading:
Lord Tacit Dominion, 8th Ruling Councilierge, Stalliongrad Intelligence Division Chief
>Slowly, calmly, placing both front hooves on her table, Naliyna exhales, head swiveling to you.
"....a thousand gems says that's.. NOT the same big, red, burly.. earth pony stallion that kept showing up with Lucky before she disappeared."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351421
351423
>>351420
"That's one of the reasons."
>He snorted a little and smirked.
"She didn't even get 'dressed' to meet up with me after I blew up Tawi, either."
>His gaze would unfocused at the symbols appearing, shaking his head and blinking a couple times to refocus his vision.
>He'd never get used to looking at one of those damn things.
>And he definitely would never volunteer to become her assistant, that was something for someone more boring.
>Or who deserved it.

"Yes but one from my neck of the woods has to think it over countless times. We usually add in apology gifts as well and I haven't made any moonshine for one."
>He paused for a moment.
>Then decided he was not going to see if he could get the Vortex Remnant drunk.
>It would not to well.

"Probably not, but I don't bet."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351423
351424
>>351421
"One of?"
>Raising her gaze to you, Naliyna's eyebrows furrow together in disbelief before slapping a hoof across her forehead with a groan.
"What the buck Shanis? I don't really mind batponies being lewd all the time or sleeping in my tent, or asking for a new fruit every night, or a lot of things I can think of, but why'd she have to.. arrgh! Whatever! I'd rather deal with batponies I know than a unicorn wearing a batpony's body!"
>Thumping her hooves on the table, the scarred Crystal mare continues her digging into other files, ones AWAY from the ownership tab.
"I don't know if Remnants have skin or something like it, but they have to be honest to live and work here. I'm sure he'll accept it and you want some moonshine I have a few crates of Luna's.. I think 29,950 flavors? They're all fruit though, got them from Cairn Wharf thanks to Lonestar. One is in my tent if you want some. Sent the rest to the Mess Hall since Allys asked for new stuff."
>Sitting back and giving a weak, hopeful smile, Naliyna makes a short nod.
"Okay, I'll just.. play the first record."

>Taking up the entire display, it was an excellent recording that starts with the large, muscular earth pony wearing a quizzical expression seated in a large Solar office.
>Left front leg over the view, it starts as he speaks in a tone and attitude that was NOT his original, dumb, happy-go-lucky style.
"-on? ...there it is!"
>Sitting back and crossing forelegs, Tacit beams, the material underneath him squeaking as he speaks to the right off view.
"Remind me to thank her for setting it up with most languages and a the translation InterPony. Oh, and thank you too InterPony! Let's see here.."
>Hoof lifting to rub his chin, the right eye squints before a green minotaur hand appears next to his head that snaps before disappearing, the earth stallion turning a pained smile at the viewer.
"Right then! Today is June Tenth of Twenty-Nine, Nine-Ninety-Eight, about nineteen hundred hours. Let me preface what you'll find on my hololith with this much: if you're seeing this record then one of the following has happened. Don't take it ponifally or personally, we've been shafted the wrong way a hundred times now."
"One, I'm dead and buried, meaning a Tower Guard Master-General gave this crystal plate to an ally in the Imperial Wardens. Don't worry, the generational divide Linara came up with to keep Razorback off balance and out of the Spire should still be working. Unless the Royal Bedwarmer or Naliyna's stallion managed to catch one of you in a lie. Loose lips, ponies."
"Two, Stream Lark's plans to reach out and make friends with Razorback failed on account of two to five other Councilierge, excluding myself, Vestal Gardenia, and himself of course, catching wind of his dead drop in the middle of an auction. If the plan of setting himself up to be captured by Razorback in the future doesn't go off, then you need to make sure Crystal Stamp, codename, in the Dragonspines hears this. She'll be able to take over at Razorback if Moon gives her the authority and position. Don't fuck that up, she's the only Lunar royal out of Canterlot that's still respected and will being a General alongside you know who."
"Three, Sha'Ro has been captured and hasn't yet managed to break out. If that is the case, don't worry, she's the fifth toughest Gryphon I know of. But, if she hasn't returned to Stalliongrad within a week then you need to take this plate straight to the Tower Guard. Get her out, that's an order."
>Pausing to lip his lips, Tacit jabs a hoof over the view.
"Four, Linara DIDN'T make it back to Princess Cadenza from her diversionary assault on Las Pegasus. We needed solid evidence Lucky knew what exactly Red Salt was doing to ponies that took it which would also prove the Outer Circle Ward ponies are innocent. If you're hearing this and are an Imperial or Kingdom Warden, tell Cadence this much: her auctions weren't the only cover for trades to the Wards and certain Canterlot royals. If you're Starborn send this to Rebirth right now. To continue, each time she made the trip to Razorback two to five of her Rogues packed Red Salt in the next lot of items and put exact prices on certain ones to sell. The satchel for those Gold Wingblades from a Lishanki Matron had four pounds of it. The one unicorn Enchained that Luna loaned us was blown out of his cover by a human friend of Lucky. If said human is still alive, capture and take him to Canterlot. Don't be gentle."
"Five, the Tower Guard had enough of us failing each and every single time to give them solid evidence Lucky was selling artifacts stolen from pretty much everywhere. I have confirmed a few minor ones were sold to Razorback, got pictures before her arrival, but none of the majors or relics. If you're a Rogue Elite and hearing this: those prices were twenty to a hundred times what they should have been. Those Bits will be recovered in the future, just not now when everything's so bloody volatile. She was dead set on scraping every last Bit she could out of them before the Treaty could be signed."
"Six, one of Princess Celestia's descendants was killed or is furious enough to break contact with all of the Solars, Lunars, and us. Details you need to know: Linara recovered a Prench staff-of-office from Lucky's hideout and celebrated with local ponies. After said party Lucky hired Razorback to 'retrieve' it, they did but also nearly killed a pony she had the hots for. Crippled bitchmare paid them next to nothing then sold the staff to a collector in Canterlot. Valden is trying to discreetly find out who bought it during that auction. We didn't have enough Enchained there at the time and Sha'Ro was busy setting up a friend's infiltration into Pear Blossom's marension."
"Refer to my next recording unless given orders otherwise... if there is one."
>Nodding at something to the left of him, Tacit leans back to give a rumbling sigh before the display cuts out.

"....what. the. fuck. is. this."
[1d6 = 6] <OH FILLY
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351424
351436
>>351423
"All I'm saying is that I left Peach alone with Tawi for like five minutes and I come in to them playing twenty questions."
>He could only offer up a shrug to go along with it.
"I mean I also do have half a bottle on me but the train engineer got shitfaced on it before..hoof."
>Pony puns hurts the Bubba.
"Honestly after tonight I'm probably going to finish off three bottles of alcohol and forget everything for a week."

>As the recording began, Bubba would watch intently.
>He would then promptly pull out the 'shine bottle and uncorked it, spitting the cork away before taking a large gulp.
>"I am not going to be sober for this fucking shit."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351431
351439
>>351419
>Watching as Dul demonstrates her shape shifting properties, he reaches into his pocket to hold the Moon Orb and send a brief message to Hodch.
*(I've been advised that you should bring at least one Crystal Kingdom restorative as it might delay your condition for a few minutes. And that a Neighsian trader is on site at the Fortress with inventory that may be useful to you. I am also bringing some staves and artifacts from the Enclave you may find helpful.)
>He eyes her form's properties curiously.
[Strange, only interacts with solids when willed to? How does an anomalous energy being even exist within rules outside their own Plane?]
>Nodding at Dul, he responds.
"There may be some planar weapons suitable for you. I'll take you to see them after I'm done."

>Entering the Workshop, he recalls the purchase he'd made from the Canterlot Underground.
>Seeing Dul's confusion, he makes a remark before moving on to collect his new additions.
"Razorback is centered around 'humans' as a species, but these humans are from different worlds, different times all brought here by a summoning spell."

>Finally having the chance to upgrade his weaponry properly, he would select the GSL-H9 and its accompanying magazines and the FG103.
[Need an increase in firepower for hard targets. Limited ammunition... will be addressed later.]
>Sticking the GSL-H9 to the outside of his left thigh and hefting the
arguably perfectly engineered combat rifle in his arms, he would then attempt to acquire 2 medium power crystals and 2 small power crystals.
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda, Post #1/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351436
351477
>>351424
"I bet Hodch is her dad.. wait, no, his adopted daughter still lives in Basin Village? I'll have to ask where she's lived because that's unnatural for a batpony."
>Pausing the recording with a hoof press, Naliyna grimaces at the Engineer's mention.
"Unicorns and alcohol don't mix. You should've seen the messes Spiral made a few times before he turned half sizes. And, go ahead, I'm going to see what can be done about hiring some more ponies here.. wait, I have letters from a few humans too. I'll check them after this."

>Going from fury to tilting her head with a sharp gleam in her eyes halfway through, Naliyna sits back to rub her snout with the favored right forehoof.
>Floating out a dark blue bottle from her tent and setting it next to you, the scarred Crystal mare's eyebrows raise.
"Hold on, please don't drink any more just yet. I remember nearly all of this. Well, not the recording but the stuff about Lucky's prices. I always thought they were high and that she was always complaining about 'the auctions keep getting interrupted by those damn Enchained, should've never let them in'. Let me check a few things real quick-"
>Patting the hololith and bringing up a selection of items that Razorback had purchased in the past, images, names, Bits paid for each, and approximate dates are shown:
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda, Post #2/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351437
351477
Armor Hardening Charm 4,000
"Uh huh.. those are five hundred to a thousand Bits most anywhere."
Basic Alchemical Tablet, Sapphire 4,000
"That's a Solar Guardian relic, banned for sale but not trade. By Solars, to Solars, only among Solars. They're priceless. Breaks about a hundred Treaties. Lont has it. It had to be stolen from Canterlot. That is going to really piss off General Valden."
Impact Shard 5,000
"Going rate price."
Negation Amulet 6,000
"That's twenty times what they're worth!"
Shadow-Step Charm 6,000
"What? That one's.. ten thousand in Basin Village. It's an undersell, really rare and hard to make. I don't get it.. unless she stole it."
Armor Amulet and Negation Charm 7,000 each
"Way too high. I'm starting to see a pattern here.. I think."
Ruby Alchemical Tablet, Intermediate 10,000
"Second Solar Guardian relic, banned for use. Trying to smuggle one breaks at least a hundred Treaties. Lont.. has it, yeah. Valden is going to angry instead of just mad."
Sapphire Alchemical Tablet, Basic 10,000
"Third bloody Solar Guardian relic! it can't be traded in Equestria at all and Lont has this one too!"
Charm Amulet 10,000
"Half a thousand almost everywhere!"
Impact Shards 10,000 for three
"Hold on.. those are early Stalliongrad relics. Lot of Treaties say they can't be bought, only traded. Had to be stolen."
Crestburrower's Tongue 15,000
"Dragonspines for sale list.. two thousand tops. On a BAD night. Disgusting."
Cretalva Core 25,000
"Dante has that one right now! Fifteen Treaties say they're banned for use anywhere outside of the Dragonspine Mountains without permission from a Dragon Vigilant Mountain Lord, and I JUST got in contact with a little Mining Company outpost tonight damn it!"
Lavawurm Tongue 26,000
"For sale in.. the Dragonspines. Of course. Says four to five thousand each depending on quality. Also gross."
Blade-Caller Glyph 30,000
"That's from the Southern Gryphon Kingdoms. Not banned, they don't ever trade them, hard to make. They're like five thousand Claws at most.. which is about six thousand Bits."
Gryphon Runesage Bowl 30,000
"Another relic, all of those are supposed to be turned over to the Gryphon Kingdoms! Only Gryphons can legally buy and use them! ...Lont has that too. Oh Cadence this is going really bad..."
Life-Stealer Gem 30,000
"Whoa, okay, that one's BAD. I mean, not bad for us, just that's a Cult of the Dark Horse, err, Those robed batponies all around the Moors? That's one of their relics from before the Lunar-Solar War. That had to have come from one of their Arenas. I don't know where it is."
Moonstone 30,000
"Legally we can use those since Luna's our Matron and all, ...two thousand five hundred Bits from Lunar Guard stockpiles. There's a few humans in Razorback that have one. Actually I think five or six do."
Prentanali Mushroom 30,000
"Those are out of the Northern Gryphon Kingdoms. Limited amounts, five a year or so. They go for three to four thousand each. Don't know who has it because it's not here."
Sunglow Stone 30,000
"...only Princess Celestia can give permission to have one, and nopony outside the Honor Guard is allowed to TOUCH them. Those are Solar Guardian relics, pre-Lunar-Solar War by about two hundred years. That breaks ANOTHER hundred Treaties! ...I don't know where it is right now but that pain in the ass Saddle Arabian talker bought it."
Void Eye 30,000
"Hey, Jeff has this, I know because I bought a different eye and... ate it... ugh. That one trader in Basin Village.. Moss Beard, sells them for about three thousand Bits each. It's legal to use since we're second best friends to batponies."
Lifeshade Bulb 45,000
"..right, Jamal bought this one. It's legal but not available outside Tidelock Bog often."
Superior Armor Amulet 45,000
Superior Charm Amulet 45,000
Superior Negation Amulet 45,000
"...I remember feeling screwed on those, I can get them for three thousand Bits anywhere in Equestria."
Daykiller 50,000
"That's one of LUNA'S OWN RELICS! She made hundreds of them for the Lunar Guardians! I know Dante has that one too! It's... LEGALLY speaking? Razorback CAN use it but it's under Lunar Treaty 29,092 status as 'restricted use'. I don't like where this is going..."
Regent Plates 50,000 for 3
"Whoawhoawhoa, THOSE are extremely bad news! Those are parts from a bunch of Stalliongrad relic armors, I know for a fact they came from a Late Dynasty Era city and were put in museums! It's so damned illegal to own one without permission from the Tower Guard that two... five Treaties, say it's a quadruple felony. Automagic prison time in other words. Maybe for life.."
Nautilus Pearl 150,000
"Straight from Cairn Wharf those are three thousand, two on Celestia's Day of Sun. That bucking heap of shit pegasus royally screwed us!"
Tempest Orb 180,000
"...WHAT? The Sea's Bounty sell those for ten thousand!"
Dusk Film 250,000
"Those are six thousand in Basin Village when they find enough to make a bottle's worth."
Riftdrowner 250,000
"...five thousand thousand at most from Lunar excess stockpiles, they've got hundreds of them and nopony outside the Lunars wants them!"
Mandragora Root 280,000
"Malurians trade those for two thousand Bits!"
Meadow Breeze Leaves 300,000
"I know where to get those for free! That.. Meadow Breeze! She came here once to trade with me! I even have her address in.. Stallionrad? What? Okay, okay, let's just.. keep going."
Grand Skate's Heart 300,000
"Dragonspine Mountains sells those for one thousand five hundred Bits each. No, that is NOT a joke."
Dakkori Moss 300,000
"HOW?! The Arkadian Divides basically give that stuff away!"
First Overking's Claw 400,000
"That shouldn't have ever been sold, that's an ACTUAL HOLY RELIC from the early Gryphon Kingdoms! It breaks over five hundred Treaties! But.. Ghost bought it, if.. IF he has permission, I guess it's okay?"
Young Kraken 600,000 Bits
"NO DAMNED WAY! Cairn Wharf listing as of LAST NIGHT says the last one auctioned was a week ago, six thousand Bits!"

>Staring with sincere contempt upwards, Naliyna speaks in a calm, firm tone.
"We. Are. Fucked."
Razorback Fortress: The Armory
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351439
351483
>>351431
>Clicking in with an incremarentally confused tone, in the background Lonestar was muttering.
('An.. an actual Neighsian trader? Here? How? Two, maybe three days after New Canterlot Palace mess they cut every tie with Equestria and refused trade. ...I don't even know what to say. Even for Razorback standards of weird that is astoundingly bizarre. MAYBE he or she will have some of that spirit candy, will contact you shortly-')
>Another click signals the connection's drop, meanwhile Dul was spinning in circles, wide eyed at.. every single item around.
>Pausing to give an excited hoof clap mid-air, the Siren's eyes snap shut with joy.
"Dul has no trade honor here, Dul may only borrow but Dul accepts offer!"
>Leaning about and 'sniffing' in every direction, the earth mare form's ears twitch, stopping to cock her head.
"That why so many Vortexes? Dul tastes twenty by twenty. ..summons magic? Dul is summoned lots small cycles. Dul take packages, ponies, letters, lots of objects. Dul never fail delivery! ..until you meet Dul."
>Beaming a proud smile, she reforms herself to make a puzzled face.
"Dul summoned to strange Vortex for friendly fight with minotaur and boss of Spectres. Dul supposed to fight humans too but Dul saw minotaur mad... Dul can not fight mad minotaurs. Spectre banished for big cycle but say happy he try. Dul met you after fight. You summon Dul tiny cycle ago!"
>Swiveling to face a wide locker with the unusual symbol of the pendant Flash wore, then the original Alpha Squad locker, and back to the unusual weapons, the Siren clops her hooves together again.
"Dul know those! Big Sun pony there, Rift Vortex there, Rift Vortex there. All big ponies fun to Sirens!"
>Facing the Workshop, her head tilts, the left eye half-closing in thought.
"Lots Vortexes.. too many. Dul not count high than twenty."

>Sensing with that tiny spark once more, both weapons were safe for you to take.

>Following along at a skipping pace, Dul closes the Armory door behind you.
>Coming across a cluster of power crystals on the tool tables to your immediate right, one of the original hundred was handing Krinza a bunch of small metaltic chunks.
>Kanpri, judging by the shifting colors.
"That volcano's a serious mine but we can't stay there longer than five minutes even with a coldstone. You know anything that could protect all of us for a bit longer?"
"There is a suit of bluesteel armor in the Enclave, but for group wide protection I can only suggest five coldstones, each, or a unicorn's services. Apologies, if all of my projects were complete I would retrieve as much as possible."
"Well, considering the ponies that aren't dead tired or asleep I guess we'll stay here, maybe pick up a small contract or two. And don't worry about it, we'll keep tracking down what's available."

>Squinting once more in Krinza's direction, Dul floats close enough to, for once, whisper.
"That pony have Fire Vortex in. Dul see big swirls, flames."
>Her tone was overly respectful, not tinged with fear or alarm.
Budieca and Ri'Vahz
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351470
351486
>>351399

"Its fine Equine, if you're finding it hard to say my name than just call me whatever suits you."
>She said as she raised a foreleg and waved her claw at Sand Cutter.
"Yes. We briefly met in that accursed land, now a forgotten land once again. Though from what I know it is now no longer filled with the 'tainted filth'."
>Ri'Vahz clarified, her wing joint coming to rub her beak quizzically.

>As Sand Cutter explained why she was in the tower in the first place the Warlords head kept tilting further and further, the pony could tell by the way the Gryphons' tail wagged and beak clicked that an anger was slowly forming.
"Oh. Is that so? Even when you are clearly in no condition to be in this weather let alone walk? My, I believe I just added a few names to my punishment duties."
>She said with a forced calm of somepony who has had it beaten into her not to fly off the hoofle at anything remotely displeasing.

>Ri'Vahz gave Sand Cutter an appraising look before craning her neck to look into the kitchen, from where the catbird sat she saw Budieca was busy creating some sort of food, her nores whistled as she sniffed the air and smelled something entirely herbivore based.
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] >E.Cooking
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]

>Her chest inflated with pride and than turned to look back at Sand Cutter, her proud expression contrasting her agitated tail.
"Warm water hmm? This bucket here?"
>A single wing pointed to the bucked next to the fire before standing up to be next to it, dipping a digit into it she gave a satisfied nod.
"Warm enough for me, do you wish me to pour it on ya?"
>Although she asked Sand Cutter for permission Ri'Vahz already grasped it by its hoofle with a claw, and unlike the other Gryphoness who struggled with its weight Ri'Vahz carried it without issue.
"And please tell me more about this satchel my militia took from you, Sand Cutter."
Aiutante_the_Craftmare
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351474
351913
>>351078
>Weathering Anon's continuing of Hodch, Aiutante nods curtly at the end part about human's societal norms.
>She always forgets the herd mentality isn't much of a thing for the humans.
"Oh ya, I keep forgetting most of you humans like being hooked to one partner. Like I get it but I don't."
>Thinking back on the name, bringing her fetlock up to her chin, one of a batpony before she even began to recall any real information.
"Ya I know her. She's an eccentric batmare who's like a master chef and alchemist. Well, she's better than me anyway. He learned batpony blood magic from her. Why? I like don't know, but Hodch's always been into esoteric knowledge."

"I like don't have any exposure to crystallines or whatever, Mr Anon. If you ever come across something that can like... bridge that gap, let me totally know?"
>The craftmare scrunches her nose up at the bullying, but ultimately snickers a bit under her breath.
"Ha!- no *snort* like what a bunch of meanies! Poor Flash... although it does like totally take me back when I used to haze the nerds."
>One of the 'Mean Mare's' on campus, she was.
"But like, seriously I get that Eldritch stuff. I saw a pony that look like she needed a friend!... sweet Nightmare was I wrong."
>Aiutante narrowed her eyes and leered at the Workshop's ventilation nearest her work area.
"She made that like totally clear, after the third attempt."
>Aiutante's attention gravitates to Anon's phone as he flips the screen to her.
>Her twitch at all the death toll, which was almost double that were still living.
"Wow, Mr. Anon. That's like awful! But if you know where they're arriving at, can't you go and like get them with that white door you like to walk in and out of?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351477
351488
>>351436
"I wouldn't be surprised if she was a black sheep of the family."
>He paused for a moment, unsure if she'd know that saying.
>And then shrugged.
"I've been told. He also supercharged my cannon with Void magic and passed out before I even pulled the trugger."

>He gives her a bit of a flat stare.
"I would need much more than half a bottle to get shitfaced. And I have a feeling I'm going to need to be shitfaced by the time we're all done here."
>But out of politeness he did place the bottle down and away from him, leaning forward to focus on her.

>>351437
>As she began going down the list, Bubba's gaze would harden.
>While he didn't particularly know some of what she was looking through, he knew getting fucked when he heard it.
>By the time she got to the end of the list, he was scowling at the hololith, knuckles white from balled fists.
"We're majorly fucked. This is going to be a hell of a job to clean up."
>He got to his feet, dusting his pants off.
"I'm going to make sure nobody can take a request from the bulletin board, and drop by the command center to let the others know how fucked we are. We're going to need to go over every fucking mission we've been on and figure out where we can patch up relations."
>He motioned at the display in front of Naliyna.
"It'll be best for us to figure out what we can return to more legitimate owners, as well as what we can do to get some of these bits back into Razorback."
Clemency
!UbatCJ0.6s
6b058ed
?
No.351481
351496 351503 351575
>>351149

>Clemency instinctually drew his shotgun, as painful as it felt with the stock pushing against his shoulder
>However, the fact that the HUD is denoting the Construct in front of him as a friendly is confusing him
>Furthermore, if this thing wanted to attack, it would've done so by now
>Instead, it just cycles through all of Clem's guns
>Clem looks over his shoulder to Jeff then back to the Construct
"Jeff, are you seeing this thing too?"
>Thinking that his HUD could be compromised, he starts troubleshooting his HUD and runs a diagnostic on the software

[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Basic Electronic Warfare Operator
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351483
351498
>>351439
>Entering Krinza's smithy, he rolls his neck against his shoulders pressing his suit's seal firmly.
(Integrity holding. Heat is just in your mind.)
>He shudders for a moment despite the lack of breaches in his armor.
>Turning his head back to glance at Dul, he attempts to speak before Dul surprisingly starts whispering.
(Fire Vortex? Some sort of fire elemental? That explains his ability to withstand heat...)
>He looks to Krinza before glancing back again.
"A fire elemental inside him? That explains how he can stand in a melted Construct without issue... Is this 'Fire Vortex' another one of those 'big ponies' you mentioned earlier?"

>Carefully transferring the power crystals to various vest pockets and riggings, he asks.
"And why did you gift me with your... mark in the first place? I still have little to no information about what the purpose of that fight was. If you'd fought us, you absolutely would have won. I lack standard equipment capable of harming non-physical beings."
>He shifts an arm and a leg to indicate his firearms.
Sand Cutter
GM Strangler
85283e7
?
No.351486
351574
>>351470
>Sand turns her head away from the fire to warm her neck, then snaps back to stare directly at Ri'Vahz, ears swiveled forwards.
"It is destroyed? Ent.. fully? No Unceasing Dead remain within? What of pyramid, voices? Had.. no, no would be spoken now."
>Staring down at the tip of her nose in recall, the mare's neck twitches several times irritably.
"Urgent pace, did not speak why I was to appear at War Lord's castle."
>Inhaling slowly through her nostrils, then bending her head down to sniff at her chest, the Lady Knight straightens to give an embarrassed expression upon realizing the awful scent was hers.
"I.. yes, that one."
>Head tilting at the question, the earth mare's eyes swivel onto the fire, then back.
"So long as fire is not put out, yes. Many and marely thanks, War Lord."
>Left ear flicking in subdued annoyance, Sand Cutter's lips purse twice.
"Cloth or leather. Food for.. Gryphons inside. Water. Bandages. Small items. Did not look at all of them."
>Eyes squinting once in a rapid flutter, she dips her head down.
"Borrowed fauchard was taken. Do not know where it is."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
85283e7
?
No.351488
351542
>>351477
>Giving you a slightly less doomed look, Naliyna's right eye closes, left searching the roof before she sits back.
"Hold on a second.. wait, no, I remember this from Pella. The phrase 'black wing of the family' means a criminal, usually when talking about Lishanki or thieves. Lucky owned the Rogue's Circle, a huge bunch of thieves, every time I'd go to her bar they'd show off their marks. The Judges of Las Pegasus imprinted Mercy's feathers with her crimes, like-"
>Waving a hoof at you, she reaches forwards to tap at the hololith's lower display, bringing up an image of Mercy spreading her wings towards the view, a number of silver and gold pegasi runes covering the secondary coverts.
"That's great news he's back and all Bubba but this is it right here! The Judges didn't use BLACK to mark her as a criminal, silver means Stallionrad and gold is Canterlot! Someponies have been dropping hints this whole damned timed at us! If the Judges weren't under Lucky's hoof, they were sanctioned straight from the Tower Guard and whichever Solars in Canterlot that are all still working together! Eighth Ruling Councilierge Tacit Dominion of Stalliongrad's Intelligence Division couldn't say a damned thing or his own cover would be blown! Some of them have been trying to get in touch with us for over a year!"
>Thumping both front hooves on her table, though obviously not trying to smash it to pieces, the scar-laden Crystal mare takes a deep breathe to calm her nerves.
>Which, for once, actually works considering her clear-headedness.
"I'd take myself straight to the Keep in Old Stalliongrad if that meant clearing even one of these problems right now, but knowing how long this shit's going on there's no way to know who or what is a traitor. And part of THAT problem I caused without even knowing by believing Lucky's shit!"
>Bringing up the first recording though not playing it yet, Naliyna scowls.
"Take every piece of paper off both boards and bring it all here Bubba. I've got records on every mission, item bought, sold, traded, names of every human, pony, gryphon, other, when Lucky was here, Kend, Tacit. Everything is on this and I'm going to make copies right bucking now to send EVERYHWERE in case the axe is about to drop on our heads!"
>Whistling loudly, a stack of twenty crystalplates exit her tent and are set in front of her 'lith, quickly inserting five into lower slots.
>Then, she freezes.
>Turning to you, the older mare's ears flatten angrily, bringing up an image of the peach coated Ward with heterochromia you'd seen around Lucky quite a bit.
"Hold on a second, do you remember her? She was a Ward that Lucky hired to treat her crippled ass after being nearly assassinated. I remember her saying she had to leave the Outer Council, wouldn't talk about anything other than she didn't like being in the Empire."
Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351496
351503 351536
giphy.gif
>>351149
>After the unicorn and flyer take off under his orders, Jeff refocuses on the on the batfilly to give her a wave of good luck as she flies off North to regroup with the others mounting defenses.
>Jeff looks around at the other squads still mounting the explosive ambush, looking for whoever is mainly overseeing the entire process.
"How much longer until everything's set?"
>He peers around the hostel to look back at the Tainted. They were holding position, while Marshmallow Moon and Hunter-Killers with her seemed to have given up on directly fighting the masses.
"What the hay. They're all just stopped out there. Heh, at least they gave up beating on the Dagor."
>Poor thing. He'll have to repair it with either a disc or his paper after all this is over. If it's even salvageable at this point.

>Admiring the laser strike coming down on the Tainted from this distance was nice and all, but he needed to be able to observe them a lot clearer.
>The large ones could be detonated with the C4's he has on hand. Another... he still has that Drake Orb on him in that hard case in his pack...
>That should drop one of them, if the reputation of its acid was to be believed.
>Could they bring in more firepower? LMG teams, RPG's, the Panhard has an M2 on it as well.
>Could try and fire up the Kiowa.
>He still has a raincheck favor with Silver...
>But he needed better observation power, and reaches into his pack to pull out-oh right, he let Clem borrow it earlier.
>>351142
>>351481
>Tracking Clem as he climbs up to the top of the Hostel to track his own pursuer.
>Rift-Symbiote?
>He's not worried about Mercy, assuming she's with Sunny, Boris, and that Tower General surrounded by Watch Guard.
>Jeff calls up to his comrade, bafflement coming through in his voice.
"A symbiote, like... Venom or something?"
>His friend seemed more concerned about the Construct, so he encourages him instead.
"It's one Construct, dude! You can take it."

>Clem eventually floats down from the rooftop, his attention behind Jeff's with growing warning.
>Turning around himself, he zones out on the Rift Construct closing in on Clemency barely fifteen feet away.
"The fuck...?"
>It shifts into several weapons he's known Clem to be carrying on him, especially his 1911 ans SPAS currently.
"Huh, look at that. If it turns into some kind of Construct gun for you, I'm going to be so jealous!"
>Morbid curiosity gets the better of him, and can't help but target the Construct in his tacpad to get a data read on it.
[1d6 = 4] <TacPad: Analyze
"I almost forgot to ask you for my spotting scope back. Thousand bits it turns into a shotgun!"
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
85283e7
?
No.351498
351505
>>351483
>'Idly' flicking her ears in standard motions for being curious, though pausing to raise an eyebrow at you in sincere concern, Dul had evidently been in contact with enough earth ponies to copy their behaviors.
"Why hurt? Dul not see harm on you, in you."
>Left leg raising to poke her chin, the SIren squints for a bit before shaking her head, lifting the forehooves to present two small purple caricatures of earth ponies, then a tiny one between them.
"No, ponies of Sun, Moon, Fall, Winter are big ponies. Fire Vortex not inside that pony no. Pony is of Fire Vortex. How say Dul? Pony and not pony make little one. That pony-"
>Pointing at Krinza, and making a slight, almost prostrating motion towards him, then creates the earthy trio again next to another three, lastly a smaller one below them.
"Two by two make one and one. Two of two one and one make one. That is pony. Fire Vortex not all of pony. Some of pony yes."
>Despite the painful language comprehension barrier, Dul wasn't airheaded in the slightest.
>Biting her lower lip, thankfully with herbivore teeth, the Planar Siren points down at your right hand, then at herself, and back at your chest.
"Dul summoned by Ferron Clan elders of Khahlan ponies. Dul see big red earth pony-"
>Proudly 'rippling' the pseudomuscles of her form.
"Old black earth pony of bad heart. Young gold pegasus speak in head, hurt voice. White gryphon size of earthy pony, like.."
>Face blanking out, the Siren swivels partially to point her left foreleg straight south.
>Directly at the Pegasi Tower.
"Big pegasus of howls, burns. Not Fire Vortex burns, pain burn in pegasus. Pegasus not here but feel pegasus."
>Facing you once more, Dul's eyes raise, licking her lips in serious thought.
"Ferron elders ask Dul make delivery of fun fight, say special for gold pegasus, black earth pony, white gryphon. Ferron say who win fight make heart mark for second! Second make friend delivery for all. Black earth pony say boss of Spectre win fight help put lots dead bones in safe ground. White gryphon say if humans win fight all make delivery for humans. Gold pegasus say if Dul win fight Dul take lots big pony deliveries for human. Dul want win last one."
>Her smile turns from innocently happy to outright fear, lifting her chin towards the rifle, then down at the pistol.
"Dul see Vortex humans make lots small hurt arrows. Dul want banish quick from big hurt, Dul NOT want lots small hurts. Dul and Spectre boss think have good chance win if make minotaur stun humans so Dul and Spectre boss try make minotaur hit humans. Spectre boss fail, Dul no want fight mad minotaur. Dul no win mad minotauar or boss spectre. Dul happy second so Dul give heart mark on you."

>By now most of the Operators surrounding Krinza finish depositing materials to him for refining, four of the recent arrivals hanging around for basic weapon mods.
>On the south side of the Workshop, Lann was merrily steaming through ripped, torn, and burned armored clothing for the FNG's, Recruits, and Rookies.
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Have Arrived, Post #1/2
GM Strangler
85283e7
?
No.351502
351509 351536
>>351196
>Three sets of eyes land on you, the little Golem's subdued blue, the Primal's bright blue overpowering her helmet's emeraldine eyeslits, then Mercy's physically blind ones, the first two facing each other after a second.
"I dislike the concept but cannot disagree. Batpony Destroyers are my next choice. We cannot make up for lacking eight thousand Support Strikers at this time but a significant number of Destroyers will ensure severe damage."
[1d6 = 6] <Boris
"I agree as well. A battalion's worth would tip the scale up a hundredth."
[1d6 = 4] <Primal Psion, Watch Guard General
>Mercy leans forwards to draw a tiny mark far left, then right, of the Tainted's position, pink lines showing the distance as she speaks flatly.
"No. Open a portal off the side of a Germaneighan Heavy Cruiser, Carrier, or Battleship. Their Mages would have significant magic support here, here."
[1d6 = 4] <Mercy
>The Golem and General share an accepting nod, then orient to consider your battle planning, the Primal snorting rigidly behind her snout mask.
"If they hear my call then they may offer their most dangerous support. Assuming two thousand combatants within the Village at all times, the six hundred Tainted will be sufficient to kill at minimum forty percent of each division per minute. Size and collaborative skills of giant Tainted count for much. As they are Lunar Guardians that adds another factor of two to five."
"Sunny, sixty percent of the original individual's mass times ten will not allow fallback positions to slow a single Tainted's advance longer than ten seconds."
>Ruminating on what he'd just stated, Boris nods mostly to himself.
"The height of each barricade when used as a last stand position, assuming ten meters each, will last from five to fifteen seconds at most assuming a blunted charge."
"Concurred. An excellent shaper you have, golem."
"Master Denra is an excellent teacher. May we?"
"Yes."
>Laying out colored buttons for each arrived force behind the fountain, blue for Lunar, gold for Solar, white for Watch Guard and Councilierge, black for Moorites, a neon pink for the Killknight north, then a turquoise and deep purple on the south road, the Watch General's scowl is felt behind her helmet.
"There will be no triage here. Larger Tainted forms destroy ka leaving the body intact as you have seen of my Strikers. I have reclaimed all those fit to die, the remainder will aid in dredging. ...Vestal Gardenia and Marshmallow Moon may be temporarily safe for a time interdicting the first charging ranks, I know not their endurance nor capabilities but I will assume they have greater experience dealing with Tainted than I."
>Setting a red button at the fountain, she rocks back in her silverine armor heavily.
"The two humans must be pulled back to the sacrificial basin, I cannot allow them to be harmed. Boris, is her secondary plan acceptable to you?"
"My explosives alone will not be sufficient to detonate a barricade. If the current Support Strikers here possess manabombs then yes, though I do not like the idea of leaving forces on the roofto-"
"I am painfully aware they will be easy targets. They have accepted my summons therefore they are committed to death in defense of this neutral, sacred place. All Support Strikers carry one medium per non-leader, each leader carries a large."
"....I will set up fall back positions at the designated locations and prepare additional ones if more time is available."
"Good. Previous forces have arrived and are spreading their translocation matrices in a defensive circle around the altar. The remainder are consolidating ranks for charging, support charge, counter charge, short to medium to long range. I will designate long range casters and psions to take rooftops, mediums in the second level of each building, and short range in the ground floor level."
>Gripping a nearby set of shears in solid blue, it's stabbed directly into the altar's location.
"Our first priority is here: we cannot allow the batpony committing sacrifices at the atlar to be disrupted. I know not what magic she calls upon but if the Bloodhost she has summoned is any indication of potency then we must protect her at all costs."
>Taking a few seconds to focus inwards, the Primal's eyeslits burn a raging blue.
"A tiny Collective the same as those relicted under my home city, how unusual. A shame they are not among the whole. Regardless, at current Watch Guard Support Striker battalions, the Day Guard ranged support Battalion with their support, and the Watch Guard combat division have arrived. They are consolidating into ranks now. Vestal Gardenia is not a combat leader thus I am fully responsible for the actions committed here."

>Reaching forwards to take hold of Mercy's slim radio unit and drawing it out of her right ear, the small Golem emits a cracking sigh before tossing it onto Lann's counter.
"Place the smaller portion in your ear, the larger behind. It is ambidextrous use. Jeff and Clemency will need to hear of the battle plan."
>Sliding off to land on the stone floor, the little Golem makes a short salute to the Primal.
"Should there be time remaining to summon more forces I would say another wing of Destroyers."
"I understand little one. Walk with the goddesses."

>Returning to her critical examination while Boris jogs out, the General speaks in a flatly controlled tone as a streak of orange blurs into the shop.
"There is an allied Construct approaching us, do not attack.I repeat: ignore it, that is an order. Perhaps it is a toy of Meadow Breeze come to see my violation of ten thousand Treaties.. if not more."

>Two 4' long tubes connected by a large, flattened oval streak in, halting without sound to hover over Mercy's saddle.
>Apparently making a decision, it drops to land on her armor, shearing through the composite material and tossing large half-circles off her sides.
>Settling down on her saddle entirely, a pair of three-quarter sized batpony wings, claw tips white, spread out to carry each of the 2" cannons which hum.
>Loudly.
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Have Arrived, Post #2/2
GM Strangler
85283e7
?
No.351503
351509 351536 351575 351620
Blackhorn.jpg
>>351481
>Floating down the building in line with you, the orange light ceases while the green Construct sphere emits a curiously dull clunk sound.
>Unfolding itself into four triple-jointed mechanical arms ending in a single long, thin needle like device, the tips of each point at the SPAS.

>Ordering a full reset, the helmet comes back online in a flat second and begins scanning for possible errors, the counter in the top right screen showing... nothing so far?
>It hadn't jammed, tried to hack the electronic systems, or so much as tried to EMP at all.
>Busy watching the readouts, you barely notice the shotgun's weight disappearing until your arms were left holding air.
>As a message detailing no errors, malware, or malfunctions had been found, your attention is draw to a beautiful sight hanging barely a meter in front of you:
>Half military grade aesthetics. Green body. Black trim. BIG damned drum magazine. Heavy barrel. Overbuilt receiver. A solid enough design to smash Twisted's head a few times and not break apart.
>Civil comfort. Sporting ergonomics. Maximum control. Balanced forward and rear grip. Central weight dynatmics. Flat buttstock. Even better was the Picatinny rail equipped with both irons and a high tech optic hanging over the right, humming in a brisk tone as whatever powered it jolts on.

>The Ribbons would be absolutely fucking jealous, not to mention damned near everyone in Razorback!

>>351496
>Doing a double take, Luna's grandfilly and the remaining Hunter-Killers had finished off the last three Tainted Mass, a series of clouds dispersing while the batponies exhaustedly wing their way northwards.
>Marshmallow herself was skipping directly towards you through the thickening black and red tinged Basin mist, loudly whistling a familiar Dusk Strider warsong.
>One that you recall had EXTREMELY lewd lyrics involving two batpony mares and... a certain species of friendly Elemental Plane of Water swamp creature that you're fairly sure was a myth.
>Maybe?

>Turning to spot the bizarre green Construct, the Tacpad, for once, doesn't kick on into ultra mode.
>Text scrolls across the screen, which begin to deliver a host of information.. on Clemency.
>Starting at his genetics, human lineage, physical characteristics, mental, common loadout, mentality, down to his relationships with other humans, ponies, and far more, the last line reads:
Symbiosis of subject finalized. One-That-Is-Two weapon development in progress.
>Watching on as it takes his SPAS to form itself into a much larger, far sturdier weapon designed for maximum brutality.
Symbiosis achieved. One-That-Is-Two achieved. We are one.

>Feeling your skin prickle from the north, your right eye barely turns-
>Burning cornflower blue eyes.
>Neon teal coat.
>Fluorescent sky blue and violet mane, then tail.
>Larger than Twisted Wing at barely an inch over, muscles ripple under thick hide with every step.
>The mare's hotly psionic imprints cascading around her tells it all:
>She did not want to be here.
>She did not want to be in violation of almost every Treaty of Canterlot and Stalliongrad.
>She would rather be dealing with the fuckups in Stalliongrad.
>And that while she was committed to performing violence alongside you and Clemency, whom she was BITTERLY angry at, there would be a price.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351505
351510
>>351498
>Pareidolia shakes his head dismissively.
"A reflex. I know this room is hot. I thought I felt the heat even though my suit is sealed."
>Seeing her pantomiming and diverting mass(?) to illustrate, he leans against the nearby table.
>As the diagram increases in complexity, he slightly tilts his head while testing the weight of the FG103's foregrip with his gloved left hand.
[Language barrier complicates conveyance but... intellect is apparent. Are they describing aspects of beings that they can inherently see? Two of two one and one make one?]
>He nods slowly.
"I think I understand at least part of what you are saying. Those 'big ponies' are called Alicorns. Your nature lets you see what others are composed of, so you can determine their origin easily. Krinza is this one's name."
>He leans his head in the master smith's direction.

>Brow furrowing, his helmet shifts forward as he looks down towards the floor attempting to focus on the Khahlani Elder's descriptions and recollect the original contract stipulation.
"Large, red muscular earth pony... old, weak heart black earth pony... young, gold pegasus with damaged vocal chords... and a white gryphon like... Twisted Wing?"
[Enchained?]
>He looks up, his hidden face brooding in concetration.
[Burning with pain, she can sense Twisted's presence like that?]
>Seeing her reaction, he withdraws his hand from the rifle's foregrip instead adjusting the harness grip so it remains stable.
"Sorry. I didn't realize these can harm beings like you. Rift Constructs, but not those from the Vortex."

>After Dul finishes, he nods emphatically.
"I see. That gryphon you saw, were their wings replaced with rune scribed bluesteel? You said their pain is the same as that of Twisted Wing's, and that you can feel its presence here? And that muscled red earth pony made no requests for deliveries? And why are you so interested in taking on deliveries for Alicorns and humans?"
>He focuses his attention on Dul's reaction and mannerisms, looking for any signs or tells on their honesty and forthrightness.
(Doubtful Dul would deceive, but need to be thorough.)
GM Strangler
85283e7
?
No.351509
351536
>>351502
>>351503

>Watch Guard General:
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <GM.Leadership: Our Honor Holds!
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]

>Boris:
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <Barricade #1
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Support Striker Division #1
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Support Striker Division #2
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Support Striker Division #3
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Support Striker Division #4
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Support Striker Division #5
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Support Striker Division #6

>Basin Defense Preparations:
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17] <Councilierge Assault Vanguard Battalion
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] Day Guard: 2x Combat Battalions
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15] Day Guard: Ranged Support Battalion
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Lunar Guard: 2x Combat Battalions
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Night Guard: Combat Battalion
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Night Guard: Combat Support Division
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Watch Guard: 2x Support Striker Battalions

>Support Striker Battalions
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Unit #1
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Unit #2
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Unit #3
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Unit #4
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Unit #5
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Unit #6
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Unit #7
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <Unit #8
[1d6+7 = (2+7) = 9] <Unit #9
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Unit #10
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
85283e7
?
No.351510
351520
>>351505
>Dul leaves the topic go with a short nod, adding another four figures that you already knew: Princesses Cadenza, Celestia, Luna, and Chrysalis.
"Dul like big ponies. Big ponies have lots names. Sun is Spring. Moon is Winter. Birth is Summer. Fall is Lovebug! Dul like big pony Lovebug, lots Changer friends."
>Eyes swiveling to the chunky yellow unicorn, then to you, her tongue traces lips briefly, speaking his name with considerable difficulty.
"Pony name... Ka-reen-za? Ka.. kreen.. Kreenza. No right. Hard say Dul."
[1d6 = 1] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus
>Nodding several times quickly, a rear leg points at the same direction again.
"Dul say yes! Big earth pony strong. Black earth pony bad heart. Gold pegasus not hurt.. cords? Gold pegasus not speak with gold pegasus voice. Gold pegasus wrong voice hurt others. Gold pegasus speak-"
>Lifting a hoof to tap her head, then pointing at your helmet with mouthing words.
"In there. White gryphon pretty! Twis' Wing is name? Twis' Wing like white gryphon. Burn inside, hurt inside. Chain like Dominion Vortex chain inside them but not same chain. Chain inside burning pegasus, burning gryphon, stuck to Vortex here."
>Nodding at several directions around the Workshop.
>Waving her front hooves in a close enough simulation of apology, the Siren's eyes close with a tight smile.
"No no! You not hurt Dul now with small dart hurts. In big fight Dul saw might get small darts hurt. Dul mean say no WANT small darts hurt, but you summon Dul for task. Dual accept task so small hurts okay if not mean!"
>Lips pursing again, Dul releases the figurines to create a large model Construct studded with eight weapon pods, two laser or similar, four missile, and two.. rocket, you think.
>A quartet of large Particle Whip Cannons, two on top, two on bottom, round out the design.
"Rul run from round Rift Vortex enemies easy. Rift Vortex plants-"
>Creating a large bed of tangled razor vines, similar to the Riftdrowner.
"Fun play with! They no hurt. Dul make friends some. Other Rift Vortex plants sleep lots."
>Devising a creature that seemed to be a near-complete hybrid between an octopus, crab, stag beetle, and an armadillo, covered in thorns and spikes.
"Rift Vortex things ignore Dul Vortex! Round Vortex things not ignore Dul Vortex."
>Tipping back to press both front hooves on her chin, Dul's head tilts one way, then the other before nodding with a happy smile.
"Blue metal from Gryphon Vortex yes! Pretty wings yes. White gryphon more pain than Twis' Wing. Can feel Twis' Wing. Not see Twis' Wing. Strong red earth pony say have lots own jobs for humans. Dul think red earth pony busy. Dul not mind. Dul lots busy too. Deliver to big pony huge honor in Dul Vortex! Sirens love big pony deliveries. Dul think human deliveries fun too but Dul not deliver for humans yet. Except you task now! Dul want deliver best for human so more Siren deliver too!"

>Studying the Planar's filly-like earth pony behavioral copying, consistent speech and rather poor language comprehension/translation, she was incredibly eager to serve for acquiring honor in the Vortex Plane.
>Most likely an individual's honor was equivalent to currency, awarded based on the difficulty of an accepted task.
>By her own numerous admissions there was an unspoken code of ethics that seemed to prevent deception, instead prioritizing safe, prompt delivery, and was unusually stubborn on insuring the safety of living beings she'd been tasked with delivering or performing 'a' delivery.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351520
351521 351524 351525
>>351510
>Pareidolia repeatedly taps a finger against the body of his new rifle.
(If the rules and fabric of their home dimension binds them, then I suppose they can be trusted. Tentative Class Rating 2. Anomalous, but cooperation can be ensured.)
>Standing up, he mentally notes the dearth of information Dul provided him as best he can.
(An Enchained gryphon placing payouts on the performance of humans who took up contracts for Shanis. Though that particular contract issuer was... Zigri.)
"Aehalin pegasi warrior...-oh."

>Realizing he forgot to acquire a shotgun, he ducks back into the Armory to retrieve a Model 870 and spare shells before returning to the forge room.
"Sorry. Thank you for answering. What you described will be useful. There's an artifact in the Enclave that sounds similar to the razor vines you showed earlier, we call it a Riftdrowner. You might like it."
>Exiting out into the cooler night, he continues.
"Enchained beings like Twisted Wing and that white gryphon named Sha'Ro... very strong, major beings. Because of their strength, conflicts often follow them. They don't appear anywhere just by chance. Many are making their own 'deliveries' while being used by others for bigger 'deliveries' without their knowledge. Knowing where they have been can be very useful. How are you able to sense ones like Twisted without them being here? How are you 'seeing' their pain?"
>Glancing back behind him, he shifts the weight on his shoulders around as the numerous staves and long barreled weapons were nearing his capacity for space.
"Why do you think human deliveries are fun?"
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351521
351524 351525
>>351520
Correction:
>*retrieve a SPS-18 and its associated gear
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
85283e7
?
No.351524
351525 351576
>>351520
>>351521
>Smile freezing at the first word you speak, Dul's eyes squint while grinning, accompanied by a tail flick.
"Dul meet elders too! They not hire Sirens. Khalan Vortex small, all Khalan ponies know all Khalan ponies."
>The Siren waits where she was to continue her inspections while you trudge back into the Armory to snag the heavy shotgun.
>Checking the drum magazines and mag well for it, someone apparently spent long hours to come up with a complicated, if overbuilt, system allowing it to double feed from two sources.

>Returning with a now fairly heavy load, Dul slides after you with a satisfied expression.
"Dul know Drowners of Rift Vortex! Small plants fun. Big plants sleep lots. Sirens think big Drowners scare round Rift things."
>Closing the Workshop door behind her and catching up with a puffing noise, her head turns to peer at the Pegasi Tower.
"En-chain? Chain to here? Sound sad. Dul see white Gryphon hate fights. Twis' Wing-"
>Rolling the first name around in irritation several times to try and speak it properly.
[1d6 = 5] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus
"Big fighter. Dul.. know what mean. Rem-nant no let Siren take bad delivery. Siren cheated by bad ponies lots cycles now. Rem-nant mark bad ponies so Siren no cheated."
>Vocally inhaling, the Planar's eyes shut briefly, opening to point a hoof at her chest, to yours, then down at your legs.
"Dul see pain inside. You have pain cycle ago? No pain inside you now. You heart strong. Dul see Twis' Wing pain on tall Vortex. Twis' Wing heart hurt but heart strong too. Twis' Wing... wear pain like proud armor. Dul see white Gryphon wear pain inside. ...inside armor? Dul not know. Dul not ask white Gryphon why."
>Swiveling around to face you, moonwalking sideways, the Siren's eyebrows crease.
"If mad Dul touch you outside, you hurt but only outside. You outside.. heal. If mad Dul touch you inside, you not make hurt go easy. Siren see hurt inside, outside Vortex. All hurt.. show? Is word?"
>Giggling in a half-echoed tone, her right forehoof lifts to create an image of six earth ponies sitting around a campfire.
"Dul like this cycle. Dul say human make minotaur mad is mistake. But humans nice to Dul. Dul not hate lose. Dul say human friendly now. Dul say you lots friendly, you summon Dul for big task. You not have to summon Dul, but you summon Dul. Lots human Vortex, more friends? Dul want friend, not enemy."
GM Strangler
85283e7
?
No.351525
>>351520
>>351521
>>351524
>Hodch
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <M.Neighgotiation
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <M.Appraisal
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
>vs Rasera:
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <M.Neighgotiation
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.351536
351575 351622
1224387__safe_solo_rainbow+dash_screencap_cute_dashabetes_spoiler-colon-s06e15_28+pranks+later.png
>>351502
>>351503
>>351509
>Sunny looked up from the map between all three sets of eyes on her. Batpony destroyers?
"Not what I was referring to..."
>Mercy suggesting artillery was welcome, there would be collateral damage and it would be of limited use once the Tainted enter into melee with the defenders, but it could hardly be any worse than whatever human kinetic weapon had been deployed earlier.
>Sunny twitched ever so slightly at the general's snort.
>That casualty rate and the strength of any barricades they could put up was rather more dire than she'd hoped for, but five to fifteen seconds of Tainted attacking anything other than them were seconds they could be weakened or eliminated by ranged assault.
>She kept her mouth shut, however. That was likely the absolute best they could do under the circumstances, and she'd take whatever advantage they could get, however slight.
>They should probably be thankful the Tainted assault wasn't immediate, but she got the distinct gut feeling of the sinking kind that they'd be paying for their hesitation in other, worse ways.

>>351496
>She gives a nod to Boris and takes the radio unit, placing it in her own right ear and pinging the comm after a moment to figure the device out.
*"Jeff, sir. It's Sunny on Mercy's comm unit. We have a battle plan, but you need to pull back to the basin. We're fortifying the eastern and western approaches to force an engagement with the Tainted on the southern and northern streets and committing the bulk of present forces to the southern street and adjacent rooftops. Fall back now. Acknowledge?"*
>No sooner had she finished speaking than she snapped back to the general.
>Do not attack the what now?
>Staring cautiously at the construct, Sunny took half a step back from Mercy as it dropped onto her saddle and gave the primal psion an extremely concerned look before turning back.
"General...?"
>What in the goddamn was this?

[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] < B. Perception
[1d2 = 2] < Lore: Constructs, Amateur

>Sunny had never seen or heard of anything like this before, though she was hardly the construct expert that others were.
>It took every bit of self control she had not to jump forward and immediately try to rip the little mechanical horror from Mercy's back.
>'Allied' her ass.
>She pinged the comm again.
*"Sir, Mercy has just been..."*
>She searched for the proper word.
*"-Compromised by some kind of construct model I've never seen before, are there any others out there?"*
>It had clearly shapeshifted, and into weaponry suitable for a pegasus. That implied a great deal about its physical makeup and function, if it was nanotechnological then it could interface on a cellular...
>Oh.
>Oh that's very bad.
"Mercy...? Report."
>If she technically even was Mercy right now.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351542
351556
>>351488
"Black sheep is a term for humans that means a family or group member that's labeled as such stands out when compared to the rest."
>His eyes trailed over the image of Mercy's wings as he took in that new information.
"Son of a fucking bitch."
>He was definitely boiling under the surface now.
"I was certainly planning on stripping both bare. I'll put am upstate stating that all new contracts are to be sent straight to you, nobody's working on one until we've sorted this shit out."
>He went to leave, but was stopped by her before he could.
>Looking the display over, he frowned a bit.
"Vaguely. Mind's a bit fuzzy for.. some reason right now, but I believe so."
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.351552
351559
>>351300
>The notion that the Machine Spirit of the Stormtrooper's auspex was lost forever made her stomach drop and kills her smile off her face completely.
>An emotion that is felt deep within her soul makes her shoulders sink, the grief of bearing the knowledge that yet another machine spirit had died. The cold comfort was that this time, it wasn't her fault.
>She transmits a mournful prayer and holds a moment of silence with her eyes closed.
>Not yet coming to terms with her warhound retriever moment, still facing the completely wrong way.

>She allows a standard 3 seconds of silence and mourning to pass, before begrudgingly going onto the next process and resuming activity as normal.

>And the first thing she goes back to is being flustered and thinking of Raindrop.
(I'm so nervous... Is this, like a normal dinner or, uh, a date? Admiral? Should I expect... "Weird" behaviour?)
>While that question lingers on her mind, wondering whether or not she should be WORRIED or not, she seeks out and re-opens the schematic for the WARSTALLION MK.2, and had it streamed to her micro-cogitator to view properly with a thought after Dranaki makes that statement about being unable to miniaturize a sufficiently efficient micro-warhead.
>In her high humility, Mallia was 100% certain her knowledge did not even remotely equate to that of Witch-Two.
>And yet she wanted to see if, somehow, something she had already learned from studying the Legio Cybernetica, experience, and the Imperial Robotics technology she knows about... Maybe, perhaps, something could come close to fitting the bill.

(... A-and what level of efficiency were you looking for on that micro-warhead shell again, Witch-Two? Give me a basis. Just so I can begin figuring it out, possibly.)

<Secuphyte Imperial Robotics Construction & Technology
[1d3+1 = (3+1) = 4]
<Pupil Engineering + B. Machine Link
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]

>Mallia briefly shuts out her thinking for a moment, as she (eventually, a few seconds late,) realises she is facing the wrong way. She blinks thrice but lingers on the turn as she coincidentally notes that semi-transparent pony approaching.
>She doesn't visually recognize them but can connect the dots given what Raindrop had told her.
(That must be Nalinya... Right?)
(Shiny...)
>She half-shakes her head from her silliness, turning about in the correct direction--towards the workshop.
>What a wonderful coincidence! She had to go there anyway.

>Although, the timeframe given to her by Chisan elicits a surprised stare towards the workshop building. Hand coming up the commbead and sideglancing.
*"..... Fifteen minutes??"*
>Mallia's voice sounded somewhat astonished and increasingly excited.
*"How--how big is this object?"*
>Already Mallia is in motion; striding at a military pace towards the building regardless of the annoying sores, especially her legs, of every part of her body crying for respite.
>She winces and sighs in discomfort, but she wants to endure it for just a bit longer.
*"--Uh--Understood. Though I think I'm going to move to the Workshop myself instead. If my mechadendrite proves insufficient then at least you won't have to walk back here for a rendezvous."*

>Starting to move, she keeps to the general direction of the clinic as it happens to be in the way as her gaze drifts towards it. Returning to the previous train of thought regarding the WARSTALLION MK.2 during the otherwise uneventful walk.
>... Still, she does turn her head once she'd sees the entrance of the clinic.
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351556
351558
>>351542
>Placing a side view image of Lucky's remaining wing, wearing the emeraldine wingblades she never fully stated where she'd gotten from, at her bar no less in a shouting match with a bright pink, two white, and a red mare, all of whom looked rather similar to her.
"Like this, right? I took this one right before sitting down at the first auction. Pink one is a younger sister, white pair are twins a couple years older, red is five years older. I had no idea what they were shouting."
>Naliyna raises an eyebrow at several scrolls of information that unfortunately wasn't translated, pointing at the neon green wingblades after ten seconds.
"Nope, I have the record somewhere else. And these? Tower Guard controls all emeraldine through something like four hundred Treaties. Those-"
>Bringing up a picture, distinctly in a Stalliongrad museum, of a paired set displayed between to a full set of Regent plate armor, shaped for a pegasus oddly.
>The date was a little over ten years prior.
"Were all remained of a ROYAL pegasi lineage that survived the Dynasty's collapse, another holy relic. Says there's.. hundreds more Regent armors and emeraldine weapons, but the exact one she had is execution worthy, that mare was one of the scouting party that helped find Stalliongrad. She was killed pacifying thousands of Undead below the city."
>Lips tight in a grimace once more, the fuchsia mare runs the non-Common text through what seemed like a translator in the shape of a dancing Crystal pony.
"That's okay, I'll see if I put her name somewhere else. My memory was extremely bad then. go ahead and get everything. ...hay, maybe stop in the Command Center too? I think Emerald keeps some stuff there, a few three-ring binders."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351558
351561
>>351556
"I'll be swinging by it before coming back, gotta let people know what's going on."
>He started to move, before pausing to glance over to where the Vortex Remnant usually was.
>Sighing a little, he left, deciding to say apologizes later, heading towards the boards.

>Upon getting there, he'd glance over the notices on them, pulling down every instance of a contract and only leaving up non-operation related requests and information.
>Pausing a moment at the band request, he took it down as well but decided it was a harmless one to be re-added soon enough.

>Taking a brief minute to read through the sales, he'd make a new stack of papers and take those down as well.
"This shit's all sorts of fucked."
>He'd mutter.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351559
351617
>>351552
'The pegasus idea of an after work/duty celebration may be considerably weird for you, Mallia. Relaxing in a comfortable location, having good food, fruit juice, two to three native alcohols of 20% proof. Such is a nightly ritual for pegasi, not only Free Knights such as her. Expect to be in close contact and discuss self-improvements to make of each other. Consider it an informal debrief.'
>Dranaki was currently labeling new file structures under Olympa's directly, most of the titles profoundly silly, Tox-11 displaying 'his' schematic with a proud datum.
'she was trying to reach 180%, could only get to 130%'
>Under the PERFECTLY NORMAL physical exterior, plasma routing systems through an overbuilt endo-skeletal frame, and a few as-of-yet undecided parts, each and every single component, strand of synthmuscle or otherwise was sanctioned.
>Especially since they were mostly Dark Age of Technology repurposes or derivatives of much older Robotics.
>Studying the newly developed Equine Android Interface and its short, heavy cannon loadout, not linked oddly, Witch-Two... was small scale tech-incompetent you realize.
>She'd been downscaling the fifth largest class of four-stage naval shell to an equivalent size of the local measuremarent of 3".
>Running through every known design you locate a total of fifty single stage, twenty nine dual-stage, and six three-stage that were most often used in large Rotary Cannon examples.
>While there weren't any four-stage variants beyond a few select prototypes that were decommissioned as being far too finicky, it was painfully unlikely Andronal would even NEED a double anti-daemon cluster warhead in the first place.
>Drawing the schematic of each three-stage variant from storage, the most promising one was an extreme velocity metastabilized rod that carried a micropulse armor shearing charge, and would detonate after a short distance.
>Second in line was an unstable fragmenting canister using a brute force standard armor penetrating tip, much cheaper to develop but not as fun to watch.
>A third option was adapting standard Astartes bolter shells, upscaling any of their standard antiarmor varieties.
>The styles were simple enough to be easily produced in a small tech-forge.

>Raindrop and the Crystal pony turn, speaking to Sergei walking back into the Pagoda's south entrance, apparently having overcome his temporary give-up-on-life duties.
'Correct. Naliyna is Razorback Company's equivalent of a quartermaster, she deals with local wargear, trade, salvage, and currency matters. It is required to be on excellent terms with her as procuring materials is typically a high threat task.'

*"Negative Enginseer. One foot cube, weight of four hundred pounds. Both smiths are experiencing little difficulty moving it. They are delivering the.. object into a tech-forge room under the Workshop proper. It is still under constructi-"*
>Static silence for ten seconds as you walk, Chisan returns with a dry snort.
*"Complications, tech-forge 'room' is currently filled with large amounts of native flora. Small flowers, stems. Numerous nectar bearing species suitable for small fauna. Safe. Advise half an hour Enginseer, we must relocate the.. underground flora to another partially excavated location. Querying the Inquisitor now-"*
'oh. oh no'
'That is bad.'
'fifth time?'
'Tenth.'
'shes going to flip'
'Too late.'
>The datashout you read/heart earlier repeats, only this time Aguina's voice was giddy laughter.
'at least shes not furious this time'
'That is the least of your worries?'
'we barely know what flora live in this region witch. subsurface flora is strange all over. flowers are no threat'
'Then what is MOVING said flowers?'
'probably a bee'

>Nearing the Clinic, a pair of archaic, massively overbuilt wood and steel trimmed turrets were now emplaced, one north, one south, at a short distance.
>From where you were both had two rifle tips gleaming out of small kill ports, one upwards, one aiming down at the ground, presumably another in the opposite side.
>A short radio buzz emits on the basic channel net coming from the north one.
*"Clinic tower north here... uh, didn't catch your name earlier. Chisan's friend, right? No hostiles in vicinity, all's clear."*
Razorback Fortress: Bulletin Board
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351561
351563
>>351558
>Reaching to her immediate left on the couch, Naliyna stops, rolls an eye that way and groans a second later.
"I- my radio's not here. Great, probably buried in the blankets that got moved into my house."
>Leaving the mare to her grumbling, stepping back onto real soil once more, the courtyard is exceptionally still silent again.
>Probably from the hundred plus humans now incredibly tightly wound after the night's string of events.

>Under the more recent large pages you find scores of small missions and contracts taped in place, all from Las Pegasus when humans were treated either as celebrities or merely disliked.
>Dozens in fact, all of them related to making appearances at certain establishmarents, deliveries and pickups.

>Hoofsteps coming from the south trot around the board, a black pegasus veritably covered in small wounds of every type you knew, and then some, makes a startled halt.
>Wings snapping up to show off a series of bright white wingblades made of bone, the pegasus stops, head tilting.
>Zigri, who, according to most of Razorback, had recently become a bit of an asshat.
"I.. sorry about that. Wasn't looking."
>Lowering his wings with a sigh, right eyebrow raises at the now mostly cleaned off board.
"Making space finally, huh. Kept telling those two to keep this thing clean in case Shanis had an emergency mission."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351563
351566
>>351561
>He'd pause for a moment to look down at the 'intruder', giving Zigri a nod.
"S'olright, no harm done."
>He said as he pulled the last request down, double checking for any more contracts.
>Satisfied at clearing off the board, he'd turn to face the stallion, if not directly at least in the direction of.
"Unfortunately its going to be basically bare for... perhaps a few days. Shanis' emergency missions included."
>He let out an irritated sigh.
"Shit's been real fucked, finally found out exactly how bad it is."
Razorback Fortress: Bulletin Board
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351566
351567
>>351563
>Face drawn tight, the Spirit Hunter rolls his minorly tattered wings in an actual, sincere apology while feathers flick to hide the spineblades.
>You recall him never being injured before, at least not visibly; the host of scars were incredibly new.
"Not been paying attention lately, too much going on. Shanis is trying to find a human and I'm running around barely keeping up."
>Giving the board a final clear, everything down to the last sticky note makes its way into the piles.
"Related to what we've been hoofing out? Shanis and I cleared every sender since Lucky fucked off to who knows where and Las Pegasus is gone."
>Snorting derisively at the last, Zigri's happy tone disappears and is replaced with instantly harsh concern.
>Reading your face briefly, then eyeing the pages, his head tilts right.
"Wait, have we done something wrong? I mean yeah the Khahlani thing was weird as all fuck, especially to me, but we cleared their elders. They're another offshoot of the main Ferron, closer to Malurian lineages but no real Druids among them. Little bigger than Sea's Bounty. Main Ferron Maretriarch even gave us her hoofband to ensure they didn't try to hide anything. It was only to be a friendly brawl for logging rights between the Malurians, Arkadians, main Ferron, and Razorback..."
>Trailing off in thought, both of the stallion's eyes flick left, his neck flexing in alarm.
"Hold on, they're isolated outside of the four alicorn festivals on Coast of Rica, or yearly trips to Cuteba for mate trading. How'd they learn of Razorback?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351567
351570
>>351566
"Mm, what happened there?"
>He idly nodded to the recently healed up scars, stuffing the papers into his pack for the time being.
"Naliyna and I discovered something today, something we probably needed to have found out months ago."
>His gaze narrowed at the mention of Lucky.
"We've been getting screwed over by that bitch and we want to know exactly how fucking bad it is, including contract wise. So nothing's going onto the board until after we go through everything."
Razorback Fortress: Bulletin Board
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351570
351571
>>351567
>Making a downcast attempt at smiling, Zigri gives up.
"Can't cure a hundred doses of Anti. My sister has a few years left before the damage takes its final toll."
>Flexing nearly every muscle across his body, the Spirit Hunter tosses an impotent stare at the ground.
"She wants a human stallion so a.. hybrid will carry her legacy. Said yes to her demarend despite every part of my soul screaming not to say 'I'll find the best one for you'. Which I did."
>Looking back up in subdued concern, the young stallion's eyebrows crease in irritated lines.
"Of course it's about Lucky. We knew she was involved in a heap of disgusting messes but never proved much of it outside some red powder she tried to keep secret. Only allowed a few wings in city at a time, wouldn't allow our psions either and I'm starting to suspect why."
>Squaring himself and lifting his chin at the stack of pages, Zigri's ears flick angrily.
"That bitchmare fouled near everything for us too. If you want I'll lend a wing, I ran most every contract and mission."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351571
351572
>>351570
"Yeah, that's fair enough."
>He just stared a moment at the news, before looking away.
"Well I certainly ain't going to try that."
>He snorted a little.
"Motherfucker basically got everything we bought through her with a gigantic fucking upcharge nobody noticed."
>He really wanted a smoke.
"Along with some... Fuckups done on a few missions that ended up screwing us over in relations with other factions. Naliyna wants to go through everything with a fine toothed comb to figure out what can be patched up."
Razorback Fortress: Bulletin Board
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351572
351573
>>351571
>Right wing lifting to, carefully, rub at a streak of plasma burns scoring most of his ribs, Zigri turns his head away to mutter.
"Haven't made a choice yet. Don't count yourself off the list."
>..he was not joking, and sounded rather depressed at it.
>Less seriously, he flips the largest two right primary spineblades out, clicking them together in thought.
"I've got a list in my head of some we bought from her, could get that Mareguard bat here with the archives. Common amarenities were a few Bits over, no problems there. Avoided all the food and drinks, too much trash.The weapons, armor, enchantmarents we passed over, most of them were two to five times anywhere else. I have asked a few humans here about some of the odd items they acquired and a few of them were either banned for use elsewhere or stupidly rare."
>Head raising up to give you a flat stare, the Spirit Hunter blinks several times.
"Do you mean that asshole human, uh.. fuck's his name? Mike? Pike? Something polearm related. Lucky doted on that hooflicker, said he was the Rogue's favorite auction guard. The shadiest shit I could not believe went down there, must've been fifty Lunar Enchained going back and forth in each one. Right before Las Pegasus left a few of the Rogue-Elites were laughing at a wanted picture of him, never got to hear why when they cut translocation access. And Lucky royally blew our wings out to other factions, she lied her withers off to every pony that listened."
>Glancing left and right in visible paranoia, he motions at the Command Center, then points down to the Pagoda.
"I trust my Blades and the Air Corp but there's some ponies here nopony has cleared. That Emerald mare has records too and I'll help, but not in the open like this."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351573
351592
>>351572
"I am most certainly counting myself off the list."
>He would refuse any attempt.
"I'd suggest combing through it for anything that slipped through, just in case. We've done a quick look through before I came down here, have a lot of illegal shit that's best to be returned as soon as possible."
>He gave a nod.
"Pike fucked up a mission to Luna's Memorial Village back in the day, turns out they fucking missed something very important to Razorback that just came in today, because of him."
>He gives a nod in understanding.
"I'm going back over in a bit, gotta stop by the Command Center and grab some stuff."
Budieca and Ri'Vahz
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351574
351608
>>351486

>Ri'Vahz' ears twirled in amusement at Sand Cutters reaction.
"Yup! The evil there had its ass kicked back to its own dimension or plane or whatever. And uhm."
>Her wings sagged as she recalled the apocalyptic events that occurred that day and the revelations shown.
"Yeah not a single cursed stone remains on Tallus along with the undead snake creatures. I'm going to be honest, I saw things and learned some harsh truths that day. Thing's I didn't want to know, for example why I always took great delight in hunting down Eipleks!"
>She declared with wicked satisfaction, which was subdued somewhat by what she said next.
"And...I had to come to terms I made a terrible error in punishing Huntsmaster Cu'Nir and Simon. When the freed spirit of Lúfa told me to go easy on them who am I to disagree?"
>She pointed a claw at Sand Cutter.
"Which is why its good timing you're here now."

>She sighed wearily.
"I was the one that ordered you to be summoned, however I did not expect my own militia to treat you so poorly though I should of foreseen that. For that I am sorry."
>Standing on her two back legs Ri'Vahz while using her tail and wings to keep balance gently tipped the bucket over so the warm water would fall out at a steady pace onto the pony beneath her.
>It was a welcome sensation, it was as if a layer of unshed coat was being washed away. The wounds on Sand Cutters body stinging less than before. Although now wet being close to the fire meant she would dry soon, the splashed water on the flame heated stone floor already evaporating creating a sauna affect.
"And I am also sorry for how you were treated after what happened in the Ziggurat. It took the collective freed Ka of those cursed land, er, Lúfica to teach me that. And I hope it will teach you to not beat yourself up over it either."
>Finished with the bucket she placed it down away from the fire while returning to a sitting position.
"How do you feel now?"

>The green and white Gryphoness nodded to herself before speaking again, this time with the authority of somepony who will get things done.
"Your borrowed weapon will be returned to you along with your satchel, in fact I can have more added to it if you wish. As for the food you don't have to worry about that as it will be served shortly."
>Ri'Vahz said as she indicated towards the kitchen where Sand Cutter smelled something that made her stomach grumble with a sudden appetite.
"Can you forgive me Sand Cutter?"
Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351575
351626
existential_crisis.jpg
>>351503
>Rechecking his own eyesight, Jeff realizes that Marshmallow and the Hunter-Killers DID in fact take down the three big Tainted Masses.
>He still has those C4 bricks and Drake Orb, dammit. He's using them at SOME point.
>Speaking of, the Nightmare descendant was heading straight his way. The Dusk Strider song he's heard before, and it seemed somewhat appropriate for the mare whom was merely skipping after kicking so much flank!

>>351481
>As the Construct hones in on Clem, Jeff is more struck with curious awe as his Tacpad scanned his friend instead.
>The Rift Symbiote... merged with his SPAS 12 into what ha could only describe as the most beautifully devastating shotgun he's probably seen outside of the movies or videogames.
"Holy hell man. That thing's awesome!"

>Before he can further gush over Clem's new gun a hate-filled tingle comes from the North and cascades across his body, and he turns his head just enough to catch a glimpse before snapping back to anything worth not focusing on.
>Any doubts he had before on her identity was gone. He had skimmed over the names he had made her write down before leaving for the Moors.
>Vestal Gardenia: the Councilerge Chairmember he had unintentionally pulled from wherever and whatever she was doing for a selfish wish, and then disrespected her beyond all imagine.
>And she was blazing a trail right to his position with Clemency.
>Fear didn't freeze him for a longer moment than he'd admit, but more regret for having treated her so poorly. And angry at himself for taking his night's ever-building frustrations out on her.
>He was a real grade-A asshole and he wishes he could take it back, and hopes whatever animosity can be put aside long enough to wipe out the Tainted.
>After that she can have him, and whatever retribution she would find appropriate for his transgressions.
>No. He has to take the Lunarites to the Citadel first.
>Then he has to make sure Belltower is safe.
>Okay. After both of those things, he'll give himself over to Gardenia. Whatever punishment awaited him. He wouldn't even fight back.
>...
>He's just realizing she can probably hear him monologuing. Just push it all to the back for later, fight time now!
>...
>Why the fuck was Tacit on that list? Wasn't he a Rogue for Lucky? That fucking lying bastard. Next time he's in Las Pegasus he going to give him a piece of his-

>>351536
>Before he can continue his inner thoughts, in the middle of a on-going warzone, his radio crackles to life as more Lunar an Moorites fall back north to the fountain. It seems they're wrapping up laying explosives.
>It's not Mercy, but Sunny. She must have taken Mercy's.
*"I read you, Sunny. Go ahead."*
>He goes over the plan as Sunny dictates what he could only assume was paraphrasing as there were way too many numbers for that to be it.
*"Understood. Clem and I are South West at one of the Hostels. The Lunar and Cultists are finishing up trapping the Southern approach, and the Lunarites are getting rerouted to me. I'm observing the Tainted from here: they've stopped approaching the Village at about five-hundred meters plus. Marshmallow Moon and a team of Hunter-Killers just took out the three big nasty ones. They're regrouping to my position now. I've also sent a runner to Razorback to request reinforcements. I gave them an all-hands-and-hooves-on-deck emergency QRF order, so I don't know who or what is going to show up. Let the General know to give the Basin's main matrice a wide berth and expect mixed pony forces, humans... even heavy armor. Be advised they WILL be expecting my command, but I'll relinquish to the General and sub-command them to better coordinate if it'll be smoother. I'll even let them psion link our minds or however that works."*
>Sunny stops for a moment, and mentions Mercy.
>She didn't look good at all after they rammed the Dagor, now she's going to deal with a construct coming after her.
*"Sunny! The Construct is harmless. I repeat, harmless! One came for Clemency and upgraded his shotgun! It's probably going to upgrade her armor or wingblades. Tell her I said she'll be fine! Tell her to breath!"*
>Fuck is he exhausted. He's not even physically fighting, yet!
>Jeff swings his right leg behind him, grabbing the top of his foot with the pairing hand and stretching out his ham string. Then repeats the motion with his left.
>He's getting old.

>>351481
>As Marshmallow Moon merely regrouping and Vestial Gardenia boring laser death holes into his back, he calmly calls back over to Clemency. Fearless existential dread pours over him as he lets out an exacerbated sigh.
"I just got hold of Sunny. They're gearing up for a holdout at all approaches, we need to fall back North with the main force. Also Mercy got caught by the other symbiote. I bet you double she turns into a white and pink pony jet or something. If you still do plan on going back, try and grab whatever you can at this point. LMG, RPG teams, the Panhard's got another M2 on it. Shit if the Kiowa can get spun up fast enough for some CAS, bring that too! And if I die in some ridiculous wonton death, make sure I get Starborn funeral rights."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351576
351593
Thermo optic camo.mp3
>>351524
>Allowing her to finish, he rehearses what she said in his mind to ensure there were no misunderstandings.
>"Dul meet elders too! They not hire Sirens...", "Blue metal from Gryphon Vortex yes! Pretty wings yes...", "Khalan Vortex small..."
(Incongruous. Something hidden behind the facade of a request. Impossible for Sha'Ro to be present without larger pretext involved.)

>Hearing her attempt to improve her pronunciation with markedly better results than before, he offers an affirmative nod.
"Better."
>He hefts his pack back up his shoulders.
(Need to offload excess gear. Gear which-I forgot to suppress.)
>Sighing in annoyance and shifting course with a grunt, he turns around to head back to Krinza.

"Pain like proud armor. Accurate description of Twisted Wing. She's not 'chained' here. She is happier being here with her partner, Clemency. An 'Enchain' is a powerful type of magic enchantment. Permanently fuses an item to oneself. Risky. Creates problems for the user."
>Side eyeing Dul, his eyebrows arch briefly seeing her form treat direction and movement as suggestions.
"Visible. I don't understand how, but the pain and status of other hearts or 'souls' is visible to your kind, Sirens."

>Entering Krinza's smithy again, he would unsling his FG103 and present it to Krinza when he is available requesting for it to be suppressed.

>Standing by to wait, he folds his arms over the front of his utility vest and tapping his fingers.
(Multiple questions. More information on who hired her if not the Elders themselves. Criteria for being marked an 'enemy' or 'friend'. But the easiest one to answer first...)
"You said you can see residual pain and the lack of it. Can you still see where I am if I do this?"
>With a precise flex of his hands and arms, he activates his thermo-optic camouflage, and the familiar sound of a brief spiked electric hum reaches his ears.
(Stealth strategy reliance may be untenable against planar opponents.)
Razorback Fortress: The Command Center
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351592
351596
>>351573
>Biting his cheeks for a few seconds, the Spirit Hunter's despaired face reads out as: 'don't make me put you on the top of my list'.
"I'll never disrespect my sister's wishes."
>Turning from you to rumble at the board, the young stallion makes a short, affirmative wing motion.
"I don't trust my brain right now, too pissed at a wing coming back half dead from Saddle Arabia."
>Turning halfway south, he stops to flick an ear in recall.
"PIke.. if he's still alive I'm interrogate and kill him myself. We got fucked because of him, I was hoping to hire a few of those Enchained to help us out AND that shitcocker ruined the ties we wanted to make with most the Moors. I'll meet up with you at Naliyna's tent, gonna grab all the archives from Tartarus."
>Taking off a four-point gallop, Zigri's Eldritch wingblades flick out from under his feathers to leave a burning white streak in the air.
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351593
351595
>>351576
>Cracking a hearty smile at your aid in correcting her linguistics, Dul nods several times merrily.
"Twis-ted Wing, Twist-ed Wing, Twisted Wing.. Twisted! Twisted Wing! Dul learn new word! Dul want to hug you but might hurt so Dul not want hurt you."
>Diving downwards to plant her hooves near the ground, then jolting around in a smooth motion, she follows you again while staring upwards in confusion.
"But Dul see Twisted Wing chain here-"
>Motioning to her body several times, pointing at the floor, then making a half-circle around her.
"Lots chains on Twisted Wing here. Twisted Wing stay chain all here but move too? Move easy but not move far lots, Dul think. Twisted Wing lots chains to humans, bigger chain to here-"
>Motioning south again.
"Dul no say mean right. Dul say what Dul see!"
>Closing the Workshop's behind you once more, the Siren is severely boggled trying to speak the pilot's name during her above surface glide-skating motions.
[1d6 = 4] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus

>Less interrupting the other Operators, mostly keeping them from gawking over his work, the chunky unicorn reaches out to take hold of the rifle, giving it a quick once over.
>Nodding in satisfaction at the excellent weapon, Krinza turns to his anvil while collecting a series of semi-formed plates and sheaves.
"A grandmaster's work for sure. Similar to the ones Flash wanted to be producing by now.. were she not half dead and incapacitated wherever she is. I have schematics which should work based on similar calibers but it is unlikely I can suppress it more than a factor of nine. Return in five, perhaps six minutes and it should be done. It will also be removable should you need to do so."
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <M.Elemental Chemistry
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <M.Research
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <M.Casting: Imbue Void
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12] <GM.Enchanter
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14]
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12]
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14] <GM.Crafter
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14] <GM.Smith
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+15 = (5+15) = 20] <Runic Anvil
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16] <Runic Engraving Blade
[1d6+12 = (2+12) = 14] <Runic Hammer
>Completed Projects:
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <Human Alloys
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <Human Composites
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <Scaling

>Drifting backwards to cross her forelegs, with a few strange looks by the lesser ranked Operators, Dul nods quickly.
"Dul see lots pains. Ponies small hurts most. Humans small, big, huge hurts."
>Head swaying at the sound, the Siren's head swivels left, then right, her voice utterly confused.
"Dul not see you. Dul not feel you. ..where you? Dul not know."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351595
351613
DFAsodQUAAAjEG2.jpg
>>351593
>His slight grimace hidden behind his helmet, he looks towards Dul while his head leans away slightly.
"It'd be best if you avoid hugging me, for your own sake. It's just a word and a name. All 'Vortexes' have them."

>Hearing Krinza's assessment, he remarks:
"Flash is recuperating inside Spiral's Lab vault."
(She wants weapons like this? Mass production? Special forces work likely. Better that her paranoia keeps her from these projects for now. Will need to address her at some point...)
>Nodding at Krinza, he waves a hand and forms a thumbs up as he steps away.

>Finding his suit system's test successful, he disengages his camoflauge and gestures to Dul.
>Tilting his helmet back as he leans against a wall further away from the blistering heat of the forge, he ponders.
"Actual chains? Then... Vortex creatures must be able to see other things beings from Tallus normally can't. Not sure what to make of it. Will need to ask someone with more expertise."
>Shelving the topic, he moves on.
"You'd also said the Elders themselves didn't hire you. What did the Elders want? How did they know about Razorback's humans? Or else, who was that gryphon Sha'Ro there for?"
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351596
351621
>>351592
"You are not disrespecting your sister's wishes. I however, am free to do so as she probably doesn't include me in those."
>He flashed a sly grin down at the grumpy pegasus, almost wanting to ruffle that mane of his.
>He valued the integrity of his fingers so he did not.
"Seems we've all had one hell of a rough day, eh?"
>Bubba snorted.
"I wouldn't say a damn thing if you drag his ass back here so we can have a go at his corpse once you kill him."
>Bubba flashed Zigri a thumbs up before he left, before turning to the board.
>Wondering how he'd stop people from using it, he wrote out a note in large print.

>"DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ACQUIRE CONTRACTS OR ADD ANYTHING TO THESE BOARDS, UNDER THREAT OF ROUST BEING DROPPED ON YOU. FULLY KITTED OUT."
>That'll do.
>Bubba was certain she wouldn't mind being used as a bludgeon.
>With a bit of a whistle, he stuck the note to the board and made his way to the Command Center.
Sand Cutter
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351608
351701
>>351574
"Not from Tallus? Am no Vigilite, I know little of Planes."
>Lips making a wavy-S shape, the earth mare couldn't believe the words she was hearing.
"Wat."
>Rapidly shaking her head at the crudely mispronounced word, Sand Cutter's eyebrows raise in surprise.
"Undead serpents? Not Tallus Basilisks? Have heard none of such in life. What of voices from walls, ceiling, stone? I felt them clawing at mind and thought."
>Her eyes cross briefly at the claw, leaning back to focus on it before staring dumbly towards Ri'Vahz.
"Do not apol.. apple? ...no need to speak sorry. My disgust at the sit.. events, I reacted angrily. Should not have."
>Feeling no danger from the Warlord, Sand Cutter shifts into a front leaning position, stretching her neck forwards and sighing in relief at the warm water.

>Relaxing with her head down and eyes closed, the Lady Knight's head shakes side to side in negative motions.
"Of mercy I did not give to them. A time under sun all I longed for a year.. marely mistakes forced by me. Cruel words, harsh int.. meanings I shouted wrongly."
>Right eye opening to gaze down at her hooves, Sand offers a slight, half-relieved, half-pained smile.
"Better. No longer trapped in dun.. chains of body and mind. Now only mind."
>Turning towards the flames once more, the earth mare exhales quickly.
"Was barrow- no, loaned for time. Wanted not to waste. Fauchard.. can not replace sire's halberd."
>Making a slight motion to her Cutie Mark, sitting up to gaze at the Gryphoness and opening her mouth to speak, then snorts tiredly at her rumbling.
"No need, War Lord. Forgiven yourself you have. Honored I am to see it. Self before others is way to walk on earth. Much to con.. think of I will first, such as return to Stalliongrad safely."
>Pausing for a second, Sand Cutter's eyes tighten in recall.
"An oath of you I ask instead: will War Lord hold rage to hear of royal one in shadows? Marely of Stalliongrad know her but Ancient Fang do not."
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351613
351646
>>351595
>Shoulders lifting in an acknowledging motion, the Siren merely nods in a short motion, content to stay at a seemingly respectful distance from Krinza.
"Dul like try learn hard words. Dul think Dul learn lots here now."
[1d6 = 3] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus

>Drawing out a chunk of composite material that you'd seen being used for other large suppressors into a close approximation featuring multiple baffles, his swirling eyes rotate to you with a brow raising.
"Lab vault? I do not know of a vault in hi- no, I do know it. He built that one as a self-contained room for testing alchemical substances, then the compound called taffilon when it was recovered from Stalliongrad."
>Looking up at the large blue gem over his furnace, the grandmaster smith's face creases with a hearty chuckle.
"Thirty some failures later he reinforced the walls. Then himself! He studied the managel that was recovered from Doctor Harlon's lab for some time there as well. The mess was substantial when he tried to infuse acid. Flash has been using that room for her work, she was refining managel into a far more stable variant for use in grenades and other explosives, hence the materials being borrowed. I forgot Spiral's agreemarent to her was that so long as she did not cause trouble she may take what she needs and return the remains if possible. I.. unfortunately she will be unable to finish that project in time."
>Lifting a hoof to you as he leans forwards into the furnace, the chubby stallion leans mutters a word in archaic unicorn, gem above brightening into a cold neon blue.
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <M.Elemental Chemistry
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <M.Research
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <M.Casting: Imbue Void
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <GM.Enchanter
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12]
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16] <GM.Crafter
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14]
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13] <GM.Smith
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16] <Runic Anvil
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15] <Runic Engraving Blade
[1d6+12 = (5+12) = 17] <Runic Hammer
>Completed Projects:
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <Human Alloys
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Human Composites
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12] <Scaling

>Flat faced as you reappear, the Siren's head cranes far left, her expression is astonished while treading after you.
"Dul say.. what is word? ..Dul see things go away fast, come back fast too. Not lots. Other Sirens not see how work. Is fun go away fast? Dul show."
>Glancing left to eye Krinza, she turns back to create a single claw, tracing a crude unicorn outline, focusing back on him once more, then creates a series of small flame swirls in the center.
>Pointing from it to the smith, Dul's lips tighten as her eyebrows scrunch together.
"That Ka.. pony. Fire Vortex inside. Pony is some fire, not all yes? Not chains like show."
>Pushing the unicorn to the side and sketching a pegasus and gryphon, a series of tiny chain links covered in flames are rapidly added throughout the entire interior space of both as she speaks.
"Khalan elders have lots small Vortex be inside but not big insides like Khalan want. Khalan elders say no cut tall things down easy so Khalan elders say want help. Not know how Khalan learn humans. Bad heart black earth pony say if human win they help Khalan ponies lots. Spectre boss, minotaur, Dul, human win not matter, pretty white Gryphon say. Gold pegasus say human help Khalan elders. Dul like help ponies, humans too."
>Creating a small sphere with a large number of tiny flame squiggles inside it, the chains from both figures are connected to the surface, then interior rapidly.
"White Gryphon, black earth pony, red earth pony, say want help Khalan, Khalan help humans too. Is word for one help one?."
>Finished with her work, the Siren's claw reforms into the semi-solid hoof which points south and high.
"Twisted Wing there. Twisted Wing chains inside there."
>Pointing down at the stone underneath her, reversing the motion and repeating the pattern three times, frowning afterwards.
"Round chains go Twisted Wing chain, white Gryphon chain. Chains from round same, Twisted Wing chains inside same, white Gryphon chains inside same. Dul see chain burns round, Twisted Wing, Gryphon, same. Not know how say."
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.351617
351652
>>351559
(Iii~ see...)
>The Enginseer's empathic link inadvertently transmits profound, self-loathing shame, but it quickly fades away as Mallia compensates by changing her train of thought as quickly as the mood came.
>Receiving the response from Tox-11, Mallia is almost immediately spooling up her cognition at all the efficiency granted to her by the Micro-cogitator and her own biological brain, communing with the machine spirit as she maretally digs into the specifications of the schematics and inspects every angle and piece, giving things a cursory appraisal as she gets to the subject of her musing.

(Mmm~, mm~, plasma routing systems, nice, looking good,)
(Overbuilding on the endo-skeleton,)
>A part of Mallia's mind sparks annoyance at the overbuilding, pausing on it for a few more nanocycles than necessary before moving on.
(and I see some parts haven't been settled on yet. That's--, fine. It's fine.)
(... Synthmuscle layering looks pretty good. In fact--aahhh~ it's Dark Age of Technology stuff!~ that's why it's so sleek... How exciting!)

>She conjures a faint bit of code to pat Andronal on their ASCII avatar's forearm in appreciation for his design, despite the fact that it would make almost any Mechanicus Adherent scream.
>At least a small part of her subconscious wanted to peek underneath the frame to check on the "Special Purpose Ordnance Package" that was planned to be down there, but she, just, doesn't--it felt weird, even like this.
>Then, a long pause as Mallia, walking and doing this examining virtually at the same time --casting the occasional glance to and fro to check that she wasn't about to get run over by equines, or something,

"Hmhh."
>The Enginseers verbalises some interest mixed with a silent judgement, eyes squinting ahead in the general direction of the clinic as it closes in given her hasted pace.
(The cannon(s) are unlinked...? Why.)
>She makes no comment on the act of simply downscaling a naval shell that size for this purpose, tho she purses her lip slightly.
(Unfortunately the only, actual four-stage variant shells that could fit this bill are decommissioned, unreliable prototypes... Admittedly quite powerful--)
(Buuuut~... Here, check this out Andronal:)

>Mallia promptly forwards Tox-11 the three choice selection she had found. Bringing to attention the first option, of course.
(How about it, an EV metastabilized rod with a micropulse armour shearing charge that detonates after a short distance??)
(--We can make these in a small tech-forge. And given the Inquisitor's, uh, NEW Triplex Nanite Forge Vat Lathe! It should be trivial to produce a lot of them for the use of one individual.)

>Not a second goes by that Chisan's responds arrives and forces her to once again pay attention to the reality around her. She furrows her brow a tad... Ten seconds going by in attentive, expectant silence while she asks herself:
"How weird..."
"Did the Inquistor commission it?"
>And then is greeted by the news that the tech-forge was invaded by flora. Her brow shoots up, and she stumbles a step from the surprise, and the subsequent datashout.
*"Uhhh--understood, Storm Trooper. Half an hour."*
"*--Save me at least 6 or so flowers if possible. For gifting purpose!.)

(Is the Inquisitor alright? The last datashout was angry, but this one sounds giddy.)

>Slowing down almost to a stop as she looks up at the Clinic, and then further up at the tower.
>She purses her lip at the construction of the tower, but blinks as another voice comes to her vox.
>Mallia smiles, holding up a hand in friendly greeting toward the tower.
*"Copy Clinic Tower North, thanks for the heads-up."*
>She replied, then beamed as her hand falls and goes lazily to rest over the butt of the M36 lasgun slung to her hip. Squinting towards the gleaming barrels sticking out the tower.
*"-And, yup, name's Mallia!"*

>Casting another glance ahead and in the general direction of the workshop, then back to the clinic... She starts to step towards the clinic, looping around to find the entrance so she can look into it and see how active it was looking.
(If I have half-an-hour, I might as well see if I can schedule something...)
Clemency
!UbatCJ0.6s
6b058ed
?
No.351620
351626 351631
>>351503

>Nothing?
>Nothing with the software?
>That means it really is friendly
>Clemency looks up and simultaneously realizes his shotgun is gone
>Instead, he sees the best replacement he's ever saw
"Holy shit..."
>He stares wide eyed as he reaches for the gun
>Holding it he inspects the sights, the scope, the weight...
>Everything really
>Clemency couldn't help but crack a grin, feeling like he got his second wind
>Turning around, Clemency spots Jeff in a 1,000-yard stare
"Well, you'll get those bits so-"
>He never really seen Jeff in this state often
>Jeff rattles off advisements after he hears Sunny through the mic
>They should also get a visit from these symbiotes
>Somewhat wishing the new gun has a sling now, he walks over to Jeff when he was called over
>He still has a cold look on his face
"Hey buddy, are you ok?"
>Listening to Jeff, Clem gives an affirmative nod
"You got it. I'll see what the runner and I can round up."
>Turning around, Clem almost began to jog before he heard Jeff's last statement
"Operative word, Jeff. If. Not happening."
>One more last nod, Clem makes his way to the pagoda as fast as he could

[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Master Sprint
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]

>When he reaches the pagoda's translocation stone, Clemency inputs the command for Razorback Fortress and steps in
Razorback Fortress: The Command Center
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351621
351642
>>351596
"First drink's on me if I do-"

>Satisfied at the warning and potential consequences for all who dare to fuck something that simple up, the Changeling Vanguard had definitely noticed.
'I have not removed my armor yet and do not think I will for some time right now Bubba. Will keep at least five percent of my mind focused there. So tired right now. A shot nap may not hurt.'

>Pushing the Center's door open and stepping inside the first room, Torven was sprawled sideways across the large table for Equestria maps facing the south wall.
>Luckily he wasn't on a map, instead staring blankly at nothing which was reasonably normal for batponies.
>The sounds of typing in the Master Radio room was at least one indication of habitation, accompanied by Emerald's familiar music selection: Korean disco-pop.
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Arrive, Post #1/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351622
351623 351659
>>351536
>Turning an inscrutable gaze at her map, the Primal Psion's calm shifts to a hardened air.
"There are few better options to damage and disperse Tainted unable to enter Basin Village, or those that will attempt to flank. Germaneigh's Mages will savage what they are able to see and perhaps offer other support should they not be able to strike. As Boris has requested further Discordite Destroyers I shall as well, yet to feel the deaths of such honorably lewd ponies will pain my sisters to no end."
[1d6 = 2] <Boris
[1d6 = 5] <Primal Psion, Watch Guard General
"Mercy, your advice once more is needed. What are your considerations?"
>Partially coming out of autopegasus control, the Spirit Walker makes a labored blink at the map, reaching up to mark two squiggly pink lines into the paper at equinedistant locations further from the Village center east and west.
"A Heavy Mareine Bombardmarent Guildhere or here aimed downwards. Above a thousand hooves Tainted should not be able to fly or launch projectiles. Their weight and gravity will harm attempts to reach Mage Guild portals."
[1d6 = 2] <Mercy

>Focusing your eye on the unknown bright green miniature Construct, its surface ripples in cloudy patterns, settling onto Mercy's unresisting saddle with the surety only a machine could display.
>Recalling what you knew from various marecenaries, a dimly lit bar in the Canterlot outskirts had several retired Night Guard medics claiming they had watched previously rational pegasi tear off 'new' limbs.
>Another much darker bar in Crest Reach, a Cuteba Ferron ocean territory, was home to a larger number of stories: the much smaller pegasi fared horribly against standard Construct models at sixty to one odds, survivors returning in maddened states having organs or limbs replaced.. sometimes with silverine.
>There was no logic, or illogic you find find, in harming Mercy via direct contact when the vast majority of Construct weapons were designed for specific engagemarent ranges.
>Not only that, the initial color was entirely wrong even if it had become a standard bright orange.
>Excluding the batpony wings carrying each barrel, pink and white highlights, it seemed more of a s heavy support option.

>Turning heavily to inspect each of the white-tipped Particle Whip cannons in a lackadaisal marener, the General scoffs in amusemarent.
"That is a One-Seeking-Two as Meadow Breeze calls them. Mares for stallions, stallions for mares. It is a Construct directly attuned to her blood and flesh. No consequences save for sanity. As she has none remaining there is no danger. Should she become a threat to herself I will stun and send her for recovery. Ignore the lonely One-That-Seeks-Two, there are six-hundred fifty-two far greater threats ahead."
"There are two full Discordite battalions with stragglers, one full Division en route from nearby Arenas. There is a... Germaneighan Heavy Cruiser from the Ninth Division, callsign 'Hail of Glory' responding, their Mages are folding space now and preparing to unle- they have a bucking HARPY exoatmospheric vessel! Where the buck did they locate a functional example from!?"

>Completely ignoring the extra orange weight, and the cannons now fully primed to launch their anti-biological payloads, the blind Spirit Walker's head turns to you with an expression of fairly high functioning shock.
"I am alive and unharmed.. in body, which is.. sweaty right now, do not.. feel ill, why do you.. ask?"
>Except for being completely numb, that is.

>Basin Defense Preparations:
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Discordite Destroyer Battalion 1
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <Discordite Destroyer Battalion 2
]1d6+6] <Discordite Destroyer Division 1

>'Hail of Glory'
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Accuracy Calculations
]1d6+4] <Optimal Range Settings
[1d6+4[ <Main Tech-Arcane Armaments Preheat
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Secondary Tech-Arcane Armaments Preheat
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Tertiary Tech-Arcane Armaments Preheat
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Stabilizing Thrusters
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Realspace Fold Drive (Damaged)
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351623
351659
>>351622
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Discordite Destroyer Division 1

[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Optimal Range Settings
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Main Tech-Arcane Armaments Preheat
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice: The Lost Legions Arrive, Post #2/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351626
351631 351659 351926
>>351575
>Sliding to a decidedly ungraceful halt 10M from you, Marshmallow Moon wing pats her sides with a loud huff, thoroughly ignoring the series of stab wounds, bite marks, and clean cuts across her chest and barrel.
>Nodding once to herself quickly, her pink floppy hat falls into a black tinged circle, reaching a hoof forwards to fish out a large neon orange velvet beret and carefully sets it between her ears with a feather.
>Head turning to spy the teal Primal, Luna's great-grandfilly emits a ringing half-sigh.
>Spinning herself around a right wing flap to face the original Support Striker in a rear facing, relaxed stance, Vestal pausing at barely a pace's distance.
>The perfect range to reach out and poke snouts, but instead the two have.. a staring contest.
"Whom wins shall be in commarend. Agreed?"
>Sniffing loudly, Marshmallow gives no commarent.
"If you win I shall accept her orders. If you lose.."
[1d6 = 5] <Marshmallow Moon
[1d6 = 6] <Vestal Gardenia

>A short distance behind the Ruling Councilierge, Boris was supervising a heavy stone barricade, directing stone chunks, those long discarded from the Basin's original construction, into place, each piece wrapped in bright green spheres.
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Barricade #1
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Support Striker Division #1
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Support Striker Division #2
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Support Striker Division #3
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Support Striker Division #4
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Support Striker Division #5
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Support Striker Division #6

[1d6 = 1] <Aegis Ignis Faen
[1d6 = 5] <Support

>>351620
>Taking the heavy weapon and hefting it a bit.. it needed a sling, but at least you could chest hold it to run.
>Feeling mostly recovered now, with the exception of feeling hollow and a bit of shoulder strain, taking off at a brisk pace past the near-lookalike of Princess Luna, except half a foot shorter and being a pegasus wearing an absurd orange beret, then-
>A teal coated Primal Psion, two-toned violet and sky blue mane.
>Cornflower blue eyes visibly seethe in your direction for a split second, then relent.

>In front of the fountain, severe color clashes between a giant battle line of gold trimmed white Day, purple trimmed blue Night, and solid black Watch Guard close range specialists forming ranks, organizing from smallest to largest individuals with no visible concern as to affiliation.
>Left and right, chargers and lancers were preparing the same way, though you spot silverine trimmed blackened steel behind them: sections of an Elite Councilierge Assault Vanguard Battalion.
>Spreading out onto the Basin's rooftops were an astounding number of Support Strikers, Day Guard support and defense unicorns, backed up by orderly ranks of Lunar Guard offensive casters.
>Without a word two ranks of the close combat ponies clustering the fountain shuffle to either side, allowing you to run directly through a small curving path to the translocation matrice.

>A gateway was already open to Razorback facing south, the Remnant itself taking serious defensive preparations: numerous 'units' of bright colored eyes becoming solid.
>You don't feel the slightest trace of vertigo upon bursting into the Pagoda to find the Lunar unicorn from before in front of Naliyna's trade table, calmly speaking into her radio, the fuchsia mare nowhere in site.
*"Nightblade Jeff has stated a Code Red, Basin Village, Immediate Que-Arr-Eff. Imminent Tainted Overrun. Authorization code: Juliet, Delta, Alpha, Mike, Zero, One."*
>Repeating the same once more, the hooded mare tilts her head at leaders barking orders across the main Fortress channel starting from the lowest ranks, a worrying number of squads not calling in.
>Clusterfucks starting in 3, 2, 1:
[1d6 = 1] <Rookie Squad 1
[1d6 = 6] <Rookie Squad 3
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <Rookie Squad 5
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <Rookie Squad 6
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Rookie Squad 7
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <Rookie Squad 8
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] <Veteran Squad 1
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Veteran Squad 4
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Veteran Squad 5
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Veteran Squad 6
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Veteran Squad 8
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Veteran Squad 9
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Veteran Squad 11
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Veteran Squad 13
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Mercenary Squad 2
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Mercenary Squad 5
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <Mercenary Squad 5
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <Mercenary Squad 9
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Mercenary Squad 10
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Elite Squad 1
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <Elite Squad 3
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Elite Squad 4
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Elite Squad 6
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10] <Elite Squad 9
Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351631
351659 351941
Sweating_Profusely.gif
>>351620
"Good luck, man. Bring back the heat."
>He nods unconvincingly back at Clem, not evening risking a glance back as he takes off for the Fortress for aid.

>>351626
>With Clem safely underway and Sunny updated and possibly awaiting something from the Watch Guard General, Jeff was more hyper attuned to the current situation already going underway.
>Marshmallow Moon had sustained some injuries during her small victory, if not too fazed by them, and switches out her large pink sunhat for a more fitting yet flash orange beret.
>She spots Vestial Gardenia, and the Ruling Councilerge locks eyes with her in turn.
>Not wanting to get in their peripherals he slowly backpedals out of range of interest, breath held anxiously, any chance to add a quip or remark buried deep away into his common sense.
>The challenge is set, and both close in on eachother... and bore into the other's gaze in one of the most intense staring matches he's ever witnessesd.
>A match set not on strength, or speed, or intellect. Only sheer willpower will decide the victor.
>For a time both are evenly matched, but he notices one begins to yield.
>The tension was thick enough to cut. The anticipation was killing him!
>...
>Where in Talus are those Lunarites? They need to get here before Marshmallow yields and he's at the mercy of Gardenia.
Dr_Juan_Carlos
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.351636
>>351231
>As he continues to assess overall wound care, Carlos is pleased with the Ward's due diligence.
>Lejura is already being taken cared of as best as possible, right now. Even down to keeping her diet the same to keep digestion regular.
>Upon a more thorough examination, the necrosis was indeed minor at most. Flicker's regiment was keeping its progression at bay, which should minimize tissue loss.
>The bone stabilization was more prioritized, and already taken care of.
>Antibiotics, pain killers, restoratives, regernaratives, and detoxing were already under way.
>Even as to include Ambrosia. He was aware of its banned usage, but the situation cared little for that.
"Buy bueno, and thorough care Seniorita Flicker. I had no doubts, of course. We may only focus on the current problema."

>As he traces the arteries back to the source, he listens on as the Saddle Arabian mare answers his clinical line of questions.
>The Doctor nods in approval at Lejura's healthy routine.
"Si. Impressive, Seniorita Lejura. You are planning to live a long healthy life, I see. Which hoof was it that you broke? Just to check it for any injuries."
>Finishing up his examination of the mare's heart, his brows furrow at the culprit.
"And yet... it appears at some point during your ordeal, Seniorita, you had suffered a minor heart attack. Seniorita Flicker, look here at the aorta. Two small contusions at the outlets, si?"
>He directs Nova to the internal injury in question.
"Minor enough to not effect overall blood pressure and flow through healthy arteries, but the weakened ones show the trauma with a reduced flow. Aye, but to look for that considering Seniorita Lejura's age and overall health would have taken time from more importante matters."
>Raising his face from the diagnostic spell, Juan runs a hand over his surgeon mask in contemplation.
"The cardiac damage will only continue reducing blood flow to her legs, necrosis will continue, amputation more likely. Could lead to long term heart issues later on. A round of Restorations, max strength, four times the amount? Aye, we both know the dampeners would not hold back such pain."
>He looks at the Ward knowingly of his implication, then to Lejura.
"We would need to render you unconscious, Seniorita Lejura."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351642
351658
>>351621
>His mood a bit lifted, Bubba looked around the room, before moving towards the Master Radio room.
>He decided not to interrupt Torven's important task of staring blankly.
>Probably would give him a headache if he did.
>Though the disco-pop was going to do that if he spent too much time in there.
>With a quiet sigh, he poked his head into the MR.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351646
351660
>>351613
>Pareidolia remains silent as Krinza reminisces.
(...Better to not give false hope of Spiral's return. Too many unknowns.)

>Looking over his arms and hands, he checks to ensure the nano-filaments were all still synchronized.
"To disappear or stealth. And to reappear. Disappearing doesn't feel like anything. My armor allows me to hide what I look like. The disappearance is only visual. My body is still here and I can still be hurt. It's useful to avoid enemy retaliation."
>Focusing on Dul's form illustrations, he rests a hand under his chin.
"'Ka', the soul I've heard mentioned."
>He closes his eyes, face darkening briefly as he recalled the 'death' he experienced in the Citadel.
>Outwardly he remains still as she elaborates further.
(Dul's motivations simple. May not be a negative in this context. The roles these others who played on the Elder's behalf are unclear.)
"Mutual cooperation. Or just cooperation."
>He lifts his head in comprehension as Dul's description of Enchaining sets in.
"I see now. Yes, that's Enchaining. The 'round' is Tallus, the name of the planet we are on. All Enchained are bound to this world and their souls are burned by it."
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351651
351749
image_2022-09-10_000422315.png
>>351315
>>351325

>Lont was flying. Not by his own volition of course but by the will of Cadence as he rode on her back. He had a feeling it was her decision to do so.
>It was a familiar softness, one he has grown accustomed, same with the warmth. It radiated off of her body keeping him safe from the cold at such heights, which allowed him to wear comfortable clothing. He was not naked (this time) yet he felt he was due to him not being in his armour nor having any of his weapons at hand.
>He could not recall why they were flying so high, where they were going and when they left the Fortress? The Spire?? Canterlot???
>Craning his neck he peered down towards Tallus, every now and then his view being obscured by a vibrant pink wing or a lock of rich purple mane. The earth underneath them made the Operator feel odd. He was getting a sense of vertigo as he continued to stare.
>It all looked like the same old forests that surrounded the Fortress and for some reason it felt like he was viewing a different place. Further ahead on the horizon were the prairies he would drive his Outrider on, but again it made Lont feel he was out of place.
>Yes, he had a feeling of being the one in the wrong, of not belonging despite the comforting dreamscape...

>Back in the Clinic Lont was now snuggled onto the gently breathing stomach of Nova, it too was very supple as her flanks. Well no, but it was close!
>Mind preoccupied by his Ambrosia induced sleep Lont did not register two pinprick sensations around his upper back slowly increasing in intensity. Although he was deep asleep his body tried to remove the irritants by jostling back and forth like a bear scratching its back against a tree. It was the clinic floor however and it was not working, forcing a mumbled grunt out of the Operator as his hands moved by their own accord to sloppily remove any gear in their way between them and the growing annoyance.

>Placing his hands onto the backside of Cadence he leaned back and sighed, taking his eyes off of the passing terrain to look upwards. At this altitude he could clearly see Lunas work in the night sky and the moon becoming more visible as Celestia's sun was setting. Above them was the moon, below, the setting sun and between both celestial sisters was Cadence.
>Whom up to this point was deathly quiet. Lont recalled she talked to him earlier but for some reason could not remember what she said, everything he remembered her saying coming out as melodic gibberish.
>She broke her silence with a knowing giggle that vibrated her whole body, and with no warning to her passenger she did a barrel roll at such speed it sent Lont plummeting towards Tallus in an uncontrollable tumble.
>He screamed in shock than excitement.
"Oh she was playing this game again."
>Lont said into the rushing air, it took all his strength to stabilise himself in the freefall. He turned his head expecting to see Cadence right behind him diving with her wings tight to her side and horned head angled down like she was ready to bore through Tallus itself.
>Instead he didn't see her by his side, instead he saw her as a pink speck in the darkening sky as she continued to chase the sun without him.
>He screamed again, this time in utter animalistic terror...

>Lont was no longer resting on Nova Flicker, the process of unconsciously stripping his upper body bare flopped him off of her sleeping body. Though now she had a blanket of Diamond Leaf Scale armour to snuggle into. His hands were hard at work scratching at his upper back, fingernails leaving marks all over yet it did not stop the irritation.
>It grew worse as time went on, two lumps rising from his back. They grew in width and in length, it was as if something was growing rapidly under his skin and protruding further and further from its origin point. It was only a matter of time until something gave.

>The flailing human screamed until his voice gave out. By now he should of been dead, turned into a red dot against the vastness of Tallus. That did not happen. The world around him span into a blur of colours; the orange setting sun, the green forests below, the blue night sky and the minute pink of Cadence in the distance. All of it swirled into a kaleidoscope surrounding him. And there he was at its centre falling deeper and deeper the colours becoming more and more vivid hurting his senses. It finally reached a point where the colours went so bright they turned white and he was in an endless expanse of nothingness.
>Perhaps he would of grown used to this eventually, if not for tiny dots of red beginning to bloom all around him. In every direction he could see they grew in size and corresponding with this he experienced pain, real physical pain wracking his body and seemingly originating from his back...

>He whimpered in agony, spasming on the clean floor on his stomach and sides as the flesh on his back had given way to two new fleshly protrusions jutting out in gory fashion. They consisted of sharp and still growing bone covered in bright viscous blood, at their base was raw glistening muscle that did not match human anatomy. And like creeping ivy it followed the bone from out of the freshly ruptured holes on Lont's back.
>The Clinic floor was rapidly losing its cleanliness...
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351652
351692
>>351617
'A necessary modification based on known local fauna and opposition. Consider Threat Point-Five at all times.'
>An old, almost never changed Inquisition code stating there a 50% chance of limb fractures and major trauma was likely.
'Prototypes? That is unfortunate.'
>Returning the datatouch with an image of the heavy Guardsman grinning, it shifts to a multiple view of the external design's flexible armor plating and paired cannons set in the barrel's center.
'like the design? Flash insisted patterning armor on relic tank from Golden Era. independent targeting and payload flexibility, Mallia. could twin link but prefer armor destruction at short ranges. did Flash show you her office? was actually her sleeping room, had to physically pull her out of there some times. pattern unfamiliar but fits antiarmor specs i wanted. most of our STC schematics are currently locked in Flash'
'Nice pun, Andronal. Uplink complete. I have two records directly from the STC itself, it has suffered some damage. Power core requires significant recalibration and hardening against local entropy.'
'easy enough. when we get done here ill switch to it'
'Fuck! The materials it should have been deployed with did not survive transition!'
'suspend originals and use local variants?'
'IF that is possible.'
>Witch-Two datafumes as you survey and clear the local area.
>It was safe for now... except the possibility of a winged equine dive bombing on you from above.
'She ordered it five or more hours prior to now. Must have struck a slip bubble during transition.'
>That term wasn't one you knew.

*"Acknowledged, collecting samples for diplomatic purposes. Enginseer, clear your possessions for a small locally made cardboard box. White and blue striped, half chemlight length, gold color, reinforced. Large match taped to a black candle inside. Located one in empty grenade pouch. Consider wargear acquisition during leisure time. Maximum weight of eight local tons not including variances."*
'yes, Flash has been studying regional flora, specifically unusual pseudo-natural compounds. magical according to local terminology and knowledge. examples difficult to procure due to her severe agoraphobia'

>Topmost barrel waves from side to side, the rather clipped North Terran male's voice tired.
*"Clinic tower north, you're welcome. Advise short visits if you can, most the beds are taken and there's two.. no, five critically injured that can't be disturbed. Nova's hospital isn't arriving for another half hour or more and our resident Doctor is on full duty. Tonight's been a series of disasters. Also, uh, if you see an aquamarine mare either ignore her or don't engage, she's a bit of a bitch. Good luck to you Mallia, signing off."*

>Walking around the painted steel structure back to where you started, belatedly stopping in front of the unusual entrance facing west, it was probably supposed to have been a vault door at one time but was repurposed into an airlock.
>Pulling the human height handle and peeking inside, you were immediately glad that Medicae wasn't your primary duty:
>Left of the entrance were three stasis tubes containing a single human in each, yet there was no equipment or machinery.
>The two closest east medical beds, strangely without monitors, were taken up by a pair of sleeping Pred-Elk, one covered in large bandages and visibly disabled, the other missing a horn.
>Opposite them was a pair of humans in high land forest camo, one face down and sleeping, the other with an arm sling.
>The four central beds had a human on each, their camo a mixture of darker urban styles while the last two beds on right were taken by a medium tech armored pair.

>Rounding the last bed left and around the bed, then sliding down the Clinic's center straight towards you was a bright, half-transparent aquamarine Crystal pony, the mane a darker color, staring ahead with angry neon lime eyes.
>Rather quiet despite her probable composition, and covered in a wealth of burn scars, the mare halts less than half a meter from you.
>Head tilting up several inches to look directly at your mechadendrite, then you, her eyebrows raise in surprise with a wide smile, speaking in a rough, older royal tone.
"Outside please, this is not the place for a meeting."
Razorback Fortress: The Command Center
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351658
351666
>>351642
>Dead to the world, probably due to Emerald irritating him for daily updates on the local region, the only response from Torven as you pass by is a single claw lifting.

>Leaning inside, Lonestar's chair was empty and facing the north, the Korean woman, in her usual fancy white overcoat mares loved to see, was typing out reports coming from a secondary screen onto the main unit.
>Finally noticing you from a rearward facing camera, the green eyed shortstack swivels her chair a quarter way, pointing at a stack of six green binders on a recently placed white table next to the door.
"Hi Bubba. Naliyna radioed me and said you were going to ocllect all the records we've got for missions and operations since-"
>Cut off by a long yawn, she leans forwards to rub her eyes and forehead with both hands, muttering raggedly.
"Sorry, bad night here and no one's set up to replace us at night yet. Lone is gone, wouldn't tell me where or why he left. Everything's in that stack, they're all raw printouts, no redactions or anything like that. A few are out of order."
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.351659
351941 352150
1262047.png
>>351622
>>351623
>>351626
>So much had been put towards the southern defence at this point that Sunny couldn't help but wonder if they shouldn't spare something for the north.
"If you can call another Germaneighan cruiser in, I'd suggest placing it north and obviously well out of the killknight's range to weaken approaching Tainted to support that position. Negative thirty degree inclination, sixty meter elevation, thirty meters north of the sacrificial basin."
"You said it's not inconceivable that she could be killed. Better that we cover our tails and mitigate the disaster we'd be in for if she did."

[1d6 = 4] < Germaneighan Cruiser Reinforcement

>Eyeing the construct on Mercy's back again with more than a little distaste, Sunny relaxed a little, but was still noticeably on edge and kept her distance.
"One would think a construct sitting on your back would be a cause for concern, but if you say so... Just let us know if you begin feeling the urge to pursue objectives incomprehensible or start carving construct glyphs everywhere."
>If it required attunement, then it had to have acquired a genetic sample at some point. She should be safe from the same as long as she doesn't touch it or any other construct.
>She hoped.

>Turning back to the general, Sunny began to relay what Jeff had told her.
"The Lunarite collective is being rerouted back to the human's -Jeff's- position. Tainted forces are still holding at five hundred plus, Marshmallow Moon and a team of Hunter-Killers have eliminated three high value targets and are now regrouping as well. Jeff has sent for their own reinforcements from Razorback, unknown force composition, but possibly mixed human and pony infantry, including heavy armour-"
>A pause
>She may not know what that means.
"Ah, mechanised units. Requests a wide berth around the primary translocation matrix for deployment. They're expecting his command, but he'll cede overall field command to you if necessary and take a sub-command role for greater co-ordination. He's willing to accept a psi-link for himself and his reinforcements, that would be better than a two step relay by radio."
>The construct is 'harmless'
>Yeah right.
>At least there were only two, that was a relief.
"Mercy, Jeff says you'll be fine and to remember to breathe."

>>351631
>She clicked the comm unit again.
*"Understood, sir."*
>Mercy's status first.
*"Mercy appears and claims to be fine, at least in body. The, ah, construct appears to have taken the shape of some kind of cannon weaponry on each wing."*
>Putting that aside for now, Sunny continued.
*"Reinforcements are still coming in on the general's order, including a Germaneighan cruiser for heavy fire support, possibly two."*
>Hopefully two.
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351660
351667
>>351646
>A short data pulse of information runs across the helmet's interior, without a display, a schematic left and text right denoting a lack of irregularities, glitches, damage, or sabotage throughout the entire suit.
>That was new.

>Wiggling her ears several times in thought, comprehension dawns on the Siren.
"Dul see ponies hide lots but Dul not know how pony hide here. Dul not hide like ponies hide. Dul do this-"
>Warping her physical body into a barely outlined form, the purple eyes and hooves were still visible through the black sapphirine's arcane tinged surfaces.
>A simple spectrum deviation, Planar in nature rather than sinking through 'divisions' in Tallus' Void layers, a capability nearly all Tallus natives and most humans readily adapted to.
>Visibly reforming back into her otherwise stable state, the Siren's images are set close to each other with a wide smile.
"Inside is ka? No caw like bird. Dul know new word!"
>Bending forwards to look at the floor, up at the ceiling, around her, then back at you, the Planar's face tightens in satisfaction.
"You know chains! Dul happy, like learn lots tiny cycle. Ponies not teach Dul lots, Dul busy, but Dul like learn. Ponies like touch Dul but Dul like touch ponies too! Round is Tall-oose? No, Taa-luus? En-chain-duh.. no. Ench-haind-uh.. En, chain, duh. ...pony, human words hard say but Dul want learn."
[1d6 = 3] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus

>Completing his work in less than two minutes, the rifle drifts from above Krinza to you as he calls out.
"Done! If you need to remove the suppressor for cleaning there are two small notches left and right ahead of the barrel. It is gravitationally bonded to the barrel itself, unless you try to beat a golem to death it will not dislodge."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351666
351687
>>351658
>Doing his best to tune out the music, Bubba glanced around the room.
>Giving her a nod, Bubba idly made his way over.
"I'll see who I can pester into figuring that out faster, eh? Thanks for that, as long as they're all there she won't care."
>Mentally noting that Lone disappeared, he moved over to the pile.
>Collecting them, he gave her a nod and stepped out, shutting the door behind him.
>Luckily with no headache, he left, patting Torven on the head as he did.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351667
351680 351703
>>351660
>Blinking at the sudden appearance of information despite the lack of a mounted A.I., his eyes flow over the readouts.
(...Readings genuine, not a systems glitch or hostile takeover. How... suit only responds to-electrical input? Possible cross-effect with electromagnetic control and high presence of Void layering on Razorback. Potential to be exploited if applied on larger scale?)
>Sighing lightly, his eyes follow Dul as she blurs herself somewhat.
(Can't afford any more surprises and unquantified variables. May my suit be the last...)
>Checking Dul's lack of form, he nods.
"Most ponies and humans use the Void to hide. And yes, Ka. What natives to Tallus refer to as the soul. Some form of energy that comprises who someone or something is inside a body. The more you learn, the more effectively you can perform your deliveries."
(May prove useful as an ally. Trust nominally assured. Still unclear about standards and value determination.)

>His head perks up as the newly suppressed rifle floats towards him.
>Plucking it out of the air, he tests its new weight and checks the sight picture before nodding in approval.
"Thank you."

>Exiting the Armory this time waiting for Dul to leave before closing the door himself, he makes his way back to his room to offload his FN F2000 and P90.
"Need to store some equipment I don't need to carry. Will check on the progress of my A.I., and then take you to the Enclave. Hopefully this should be quick. Then I'll call the others."
>While walking, he asks:
"Is 'friend' and 'enemy' a simple thing for you to decide? Whoever cheats you in a delivery is 'bad'?"
>Looking towards her, he would attempt to scrutinize what level of complex thought was brought on by his question.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351680
351703
>>351667
Correction:
>*What natives to Tallus refer to the soul as.
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351687
351693
1469660320772.jpg
1445498814464-0.gif
1422428078230.jpg
>>351666
>Two new tables were the only new additions, the shelves had been completely reordered along with paper archives consolidated.
>It was either time to hire a real secretary, or somepony that liked office work.
Don't worry much, I'm just not myself tonight. We're still in Code Gray and I don't know where some of our squads are."
>Giving a wave, Emerald returns to her (self-imposed) awful duties.
>Blinking from his lazy do-nothing, the treasure hunter emits a low, merry kee of thanks.

>Plodding towards the Pagoda's distantly lit structure, passing the dividing line between older barracks and the one renovated for ponies, you stop.
>Gazing down at the stacks of papers in your hands, a sense of unease crosses your thoughts as you frown.
>This was wrong.
>Not the contracts, for sale lists, missions, requests for information, no.
>The methods that you, Naliyna, and Zigri were going to shortly utilize were horribly insufficient.
>It was going to take hours for the Spirit Hunter and you to keep the somewhat forgetful Crystal mare on the task of unraveling what the fuck was here, and even more calming her temperamarental nature.
>Looking up and sighting in on the fountain, familiar, content memories rise to the surface:
>Hollow and Roust finishing off the incomprehensibly volatile Grand Stormwurm's rampage, an event that would slow Spiral's rapid decline.
>The Marquis in a truly happy moment, making his last finishing touches on the yellow water fountain, then imprinting his own individual glyph on a circular obelisk beneath it.
>The majority of the original 100 Operators learning part of his consciousness had been sealed there to create the demi-sentient, the one and only being Razorback would be able to count on after Spiral's psyche was shattered into pieces.
>The various foals and marefriends of Razorback's nocturnals swimming, sleeping, sitting on, in, around it, overlooked by the six proud Elemarentals in rare minutes of calm.
"Fuck that shit! YOU have been screwed over long enough!"
>The voice wasn't yours.
>The meaning, however, was.
>A once despaired man from elsewhere howls deeply in rage, echoing the same treachery that you once thought finished, but now faced once again.
"YOU were the first to learn Pikeman went traitor! YOU couldn't clean that mess when the rest of Razorback was struggling to find allies, make ends meet, and not starve! YOU risked life when HE pissed on humanity for the sake of stupid mindless enjoyment! YOU know the methods that unicorn used to sunder part of his soul and place it in the most secure location! YOU know his name and YOU know why he used it there!"

>Guided by the voice's furious logic, you grip the stack in both hands and storm towards the fountain, wreathes of hate foaming in your soul.
>Reaching the only remaining, hallowed artifact of a once gentle soul, the closest friend to you and humanity on this world, you stare at it in a melancholy you barely acknowledged at the worst of times.
>Placing the papers down at a safe distance, stepping to the north side, find it: a barely seen, worn glyph covered in the imprints of friends and family.
>Placing one hand on it, then walking around in a clockwise circle touching each imprint that would create his name in archaic unicorn, you stop at the west side, watching as the water rushes out through numerous flexible drains in the east side.
>In seconds the purified arcane metal darkens, then slowly raises from the sorcerously hardened stone he'd placed for a solid foundation.
>Grimly satisfied the demi-sentient was still functional, you step down into the calm depression to stand over the faded gold language.
>Reaching down to grab the fragmarent of Spiral's soul-glyph and step back over the edge, the fountain settles into position with little more than a whisper.
>Compressing the soul-glyph into the size of a notebook, you walk back to place it on the stack of papers, stepping back and folding both arms across your chest as the micro-consciousness works.
>Coldly gazing on for half a minute, the soul-glyph returns to its normal subdued hue.
>Nodding in satisfaction, you bend down to pick up the fragmarent of Spiral's soul, forcing it into the size of a coin and slipping it where few would consider searching.
>The evidence could be accessed at any time from it, and you knew this much:
>At least five parties WOULD have been allies if that crippled piece of shit pegasus hadn't been helped by select Canterlot royalty allied with corrupt Stalliongrad loyalists.
>Every time Lucky sent for a human to appear, make a delivery, pick up a package, or held an auction, the substance Zigri failed to track down was there.
>That same substance killed ponies in Las Pegasus for years, it was no wonder to you why Lucky's Rogues were so damned devoted: either they took it or died in slow agony.
>Lucky and her Rogues were the middle mares.
>A royal in Canterlot killed Fankil, somepony that was hiding their Stalliongrad-descended Psionicism from all parties.. except Fankil and his closest friend: Hodch.
>Hodch knew what that substance was, he arrived at the PRECISE time Shanis started issuing contracts.
>The second either of them revealed the tenuous link between Lucky selling artifacts stolen from all over, the substance, the Inner Circle Wards in the Crystal Empire, Canterlot royalty in the mix, and Stalliongrad's corrupt elemarents, far more forces than the corrupted Watch Guard sent to die in the Siege would have been rallied from the black market.
>Neither Bellepheron or Dancing Eyes were even remotely involved: they were fall ponies.
>Dancing Eyes was an idiot, and the Crystal stallion didn't even realize he was going to be die that night.
>Valden, Princess Cadence, and the Nightmare were keeping a lethal enemy from contact with humans.
>Some of the Ruling Councilierge and Tower Guard, Stream Lark and Linara included, were failing to hold that enemy back.
>A trap had been set and buried.. one that you knew just how and where to dig up.
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.351692
351708
[I'm very calm right now].jpg
>>351652
(Oooo~...)
>The response Tox-11 receives from elaborating to the Enginseer was packed full of excitement.
(And, yes. Kind of? It was through Psyker, uh, communication? Communion? I saw it while in her mind, so I guess in theory I did see it...)
(--First time I was touched by a Psyker like that. Uhm.)
>Mallia's data-voice trails off in a mildly uncomfortable note, but shakes it off as she listens to the two.
(Slip bubble...)
>That thought slips away from her as she received Chisan's transmission.

(A what?)
(A black candle? Me? What?)
(I go from getting slapped in one Inquisitor's retinue and sent into the worst mission yet, fail, get into another retinue, and I get a black candle...?)
>Immediately self-conscious from the bleed of her surface thoughts into the machine link, she puts out the SLIGHT datafume that began to make her hate herself somewhat more.

>She sends a rather limp response back to Chisan as her emotions ebb.
*"... Roger, wilco once I have sat down."*

>Though she'd hazard a smile up towards the tower as she received that warning. Making a mental note. And then moving on.
>Heading around the structure to get to the front door, peeking in, and seeing the interior... She briefly lingers her eyes on the few things she sees.
>Humans in pods. And the Pred-elk.
(Huh. I hope Astral Poinsettia is okay...)
>Then suddenly, she notes the approach of this crystal pony.
>Aquamarine... And with an already angry stare.

([i]Ave Deus Mechanicus.[i] Welp.)

>She looks (not that far down) at the mare, their smile being met with a rather genuine one of her own, albeit with a somewhat concerned lifting of Mallia's brow and an apologetic glance in her bright viridian eyes.
>Pic related
>... And her mechadendrite shifts a little further behind her back while it is examined.
>Though it starts to come back out, looping a little around her middle as the Enginseer casts a smiling glance down at it for a split-second.

"Of course. My bad."
(Why is she smiling like that...)
>Mallia said after a subtly heavy exhale, voice lowered to a deferential softness in response to that otherwise rough but royal tone.
>Not wasting time, she briskly backsteps a good long two steps back, then takes a couple aside from the door, both of her own hands clasping around the mechadendrite's manipulator claw like one squeezes a hand for emotional support.
>She waits for the aquamarine mare to step out to converse (or close the door and walk away), waiting to be addressed before voicing her request.
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351693
351714
>>351687
>As he walks towards the Pagoda, Bubba's motions would slow to a stop.
>Glancing down at the papers and binders in hand, his grip would slowly tighten as he was left alone with his thoughts.
>Scowl deepening, he'd glance around as a voice would ring in his head.
>Even if he couldn't place the voice to someone he knew, he was finding himself agreeing with the person.

>Scowl transforming into a snarl, he moved swiftly to the fountain, intent etched in his mind now.
>Placing the papers down before kneeling for a moment, Bubba would start the process of removing Spiral's soul-glyph.
>He'd do so almost autonomously, blank faced as he worked it out of the Fountain.
>Pocketing the coin sized soul-glyph, Bubba would glance around, looking to see if there were any observers, before moving back towards the Pagoda.
>Nalyina was expecting these, and not handing them over would be counter-intuitive, after all.

>A well hidden fury would slowly bubble beneath the surface of the human.
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351700
351730
>>351282
All I can suggest is fucking blinding it and running!"
>Recoiling at the sudden brightness, I grunt as I was slammed down into the couch, eyes watering as I rapidly blink the spots out of my vision.
"That fucking hurts."

>As I quickly recover from the explosion, unlike the creature, I watch as she bashes the thing, smirking a little at the damage she inflicted.
"I'm trying, you're fucking difficult to pilot!"
>A tanker, I most certainly was fucking not.
>Pulling at the controls, I move her body with her motions, trying to keep her upright by moving her forward into it..
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] >B. Riposte
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
Budieca and Ri'Vahz and Food
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351701
351735
ginger-veggie-stir-fry-16-scaled.jpg
>>351608

"They were not of Tallus and from what I gathered came to this world to enslave and consume any an' all natives here."
>Her wings shrugged with some of the longer feathers twitching due strong emotions being repressed.
"We Gryphons share a shameful history I discovered, one I feel few will need to know, but they influenced us the longer we stayed there, Sand Cutter. Eventually my own Enforcer had his will striped from him and was another pawn for the undead."
>She let out an amused chirp.
"That is until we defeated them for good and he regained himself along with the rest of my militia forces. I haven't seen a Gryphon sleep that long before. But even with their influence it doesn't excuse my behaviour towards you."
>Ri'Vahz told Sand Cutter, giving the pony an appreciative nod.

>The Gryphoness dramatically rolls her eyes.
"Oh fine then! I won't punish them that hard, they will only be on cleaning duties for a month."
>Her beak clicked in rapid succession as a sign of amusement before tilting her head again and giving the Earth Pony a once over.
"So you were a prisoner from Stalliongrad, huh? Even all beat up at least you're free now."
>She assured.

>Sand Cutter saw movement from the corner of eye as the other Gryphon came into view from the kitchen.
>And in one upright claw was a steaming bowl of food, its smell replacing the stench of burning wood and wet mare.
>As she approached she said not a word as to not interrupt the conversation.
"Your sires halberd? I will ensure it is returned to you as soon as possible along with your satchel."
>Promised the Warlord, her tone serious.

"An oath..."
>Ri'Vahz went silent in thought, a talon stroking her beak. Budieca took this moment to place the bowl at Sand Cutters hooves, steam rising up to fill her nostrils.
"I hope ya like it, and before you ask Swe has quite the versatile appetite so I had to specially order some food from outside the Vale."
>she whispered to the pony.
>Within the bowl was a mix of mildly pan fried vegetables. Vibrate green Equestrian broccoli, red and yellow Prence peppers, onions and a peppering of sunflower seeds on top of it all.
"We may be carnivores but we supplement our diet with some vegetables, and on occasion fruit too if the trade is good. I really do enjoy a Moor Mango as a treat. Sadly we have none at the moment."
>She said, tongue liking along her beak at the thought of biting into something so juicy.

>With Budieca finished Ri'Vahz spoke up, her expression serious.
"All right, I've decided and accept this oath. Who is this 'Royal One' working in the shadows?"
>Asked Ri'Vahz, head leaning slightly closer to Sand Cutter. And although Budieca had stepped away her ears were trained on the pony as well.
Razorback Fortress:
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351703
351709
>>351667
>>351680
>Absorbing the information while still trying to speak individual words, Dul's breezy tail flicks twice as she thinks.
"Oh. Some Dul Vortex fight Void things. Dul like watch, make friend nice Void things. Not like Void hurts.. Dul try say.. soul. Soul? Soul not sole! Soul same ka, ka same soul. Dul not tired learn new words like other Sirens say."
[1d6 = 2] <Planar Adapt: Vortex
>Following in your wake, Dul's expression is one of amazemarent as you get the door.
>Apparently Sirens were trained in passable equine etiquette.
"Huge task not bound Dul time here. Dul stay megacycle if Dul need!"
>Stride-skating next to you the Siren's face hardens, eyes micro-shifting in severe consideration.
>Finished collecting her thoughts inside your room as the door is closed, the Siren drifts to center to sit down, her inflections somber.
"Friend has honor. No lie, cheat, steal. No hurt ponies, humans, other Vortexes wrong. Enemy has no honor. Lies, cheats, steals, hurts ponies, humans wrong."
>Speaking her words a more smoothly now though still semi-physically unused to Common pronunciations.
>Ignoring the projections still in communication mode, though 'Tipper' takes some interest in the Planar's words, Dul's head swivels gaze at your helmet.
"Sirens know ponies hide things for make good later cycles. Sirens deliver lots hide things, friend ponies, not pony enemy. Tiny hurts not like huge hurts. Sirens obey Remnant, pony laws. Small Remnants of Big Remnant know all lies, cheats, steals, hurts. Remnant master deliveries so Sirens obey Remnant, like smalls, Big Remnant. Remnant say friend humans, Remnant make lots deliveries humans so Sirens want humans friends too."

[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic, Exterior
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351708
351751
>>351692
'thats called a meeting of minds. uses hexagrammatic wards to communicate one to one. most secure means of transferring knowledge or talking. when shes recovered ask her to show some Dark Age Tech we had on board'
'Except some of the ancient power armors. They did not like us much.'
'yeah those were grox shit bastards. half the time they couldnt tell the difference between plascrete and enemy tanks'

>Chisan responds a quick affirmative, barely suppressing a chortle.

>The mare's eyes shift into a much friendlier gleam as she nods, stiffly stepping over the Clinic's short entrance.
'Mallia, I do not know this equine.'
>Receiving a too-late data packet from the south, Dranaki's electrotone is sorely confused while the half-transparent pony starts to test her muscles in small motions.
'Flash does not know much of her other than... yes, she was rescued from being a slave and is now considered a refugee here. Comm reports state she is a trouble maker but none have witnessed her acting in the slightest friendly except for one emissary to the Crystal Empire. He may have been rebuffed. Advise minor physical caution, her injuries are not severe but it would look poor to cause harm. Advise compliance unless possibility of treachery occurs and.. record everything, I suppose?'

>Rolling her neck out while stretching down and forwards heavily, giving you a nice view of her curves, the mare exhales contently.
"Much better, damned medics complicate everything."
>Plodding out several paces while you close the door after her, she turns to fully face you, smiling once more at the mechadendrite while speaking quietly in a younger, though still blatantly royal voice.
"To start, I'm Elusine Ametrina, Imperial Rune Knight, Second Spire Battalion. Sorry if you were expecting one of the stallions, either the tactician or lancer was supposed to be hired on."
>Grinning with a quick wink, she continues with firm ear flicks.
"Wasn't sure when or if Lark could exfil one of Meadow Breeze's few symbiote accepted humans to Razorback but I'm glad to see they're making progress. In any case this isn't a formal debrief but I'll start from the top."
"We.. got screwed."
>Giggling at the admission, her eyes shut tightly for several seconds, then turns barely serious.
"Not terribly though! The humans that were supposed to be masked as Steel Oak and his daughter, can't recall her name, didn't give most of the right code words or bids to Lark. I don't know who or what took them down but they had to be injured enough that their slotted information wasn't available. That part of Lark's plan got royally bucked. That's the only truly bad news."
"Lilac and Drifting are here and shouldn't be. Lilac wanted to investigate the industrial section, see what she could pick up on who armed and sent Bigmaw. Linara's going to be pissed, that lead might be dead. Drifting's way out of place, it would've been better to leave her with that whore Pear Blossom likes, but said whore got outbid."
>Pausing to make a low popping sound with her lips, the Crystal mare shrugs.
"Oh well. Rua was supposed to go with the Canterlot group and start infiltrating there, instead she got selected by Razorback. I don't think that'll matter too much at this point, Valden said he had at least thirty alternative earth ponies. Kinda hope one of them is a Striker, at least."
"As for the good news all eight of the young ponies are here. Only Foggy Patches is going to be difficult to reintegrate, the rest are fine. Now for the real juicy ones."
"All the artifacts were confirmed by Tower Guard. They had a white Eye during the auction, said they've leave one in a dead state though I couldn't find it. They're going to present that proof to Luna and Cadenza soon as Lark makes his case to Razorback. Two small problems from this though."
"This confirms Pear Blossom WAS the majority buyer before Lucky, but we don't have proof Pear was involved in the Salt trade. Make a note of that."
"Lucky was tipped off everypony was about to crack down on her right before Linara's assault. Pear Blossom did that for two reasons: Lucky quickly sold a few choice relics to Pear, then moved to take out the Inner Wards before they could trade evidence with Cadeza and maybe not all be executed. That way Pear could wash her hooves of the black market entirely. But issue two is even better for us if we can keep the momarentum."
"While I was listening in the auction chamber there were three Watch agents trying to decide who to go after. I couldn't tell them not to take Lark hostage so I quipped that Lark had a better selection of stallions. That did kind of backfire. Really need to apologize to the humans they targeted, I didn't actually think they'd try to take them for mates. Big mistake on my part. I've got a whole lot more to share but this damned medic here is so tight flanked I haven't had much time to locate Stalliongrad's other humans, if there are any."
>Taking a deep inhale, the burn-covered mare rocks her head side to side twice, pausing as a salacious grin spreads across her muzzle.
"If you do find one let them know to start a fight with me, tell them to make it look real too. That way they can keep my cover active a while longer and I can get a little relief in a shower or something, can't stand how hot is here. I'm supposed to be taking a walk right now so if you have a vital report, make it quick please."

'....'
'....'
'....'
'What is going on?'
'i have no fucking clue witch'
'We are incredibly confused. At everything.'
'Should I contact Flash?'
'with how crippled she is right now? no'
'Alternative: contact Chisan. His training should allow him to, at the least, keep her talking.'
'I WILL NOT ACCEPT THIS'
'calm down witch. Mallia, whats the highest ranking code youve ever used? tell Chisan what just happened and have him maintain the ruse. try this, its one use only though'
>The world bends a bit as an engram is delivered to your MIU: a near-maximum level Storm Trooper command code.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351709
351738
>>351703
>Nodding in affirmation of her pronunciation, he slightly cocks his head as she finishes.
"Are other Sirens not interested in interacting with other worlds?"

>Entering the Barracks and reaching his room, he laboriously removes his pack and lays it on the bed. The staves he had stuck to his back quickly follow.
>Rolling his shoulders to ease their strain from the weight he had been carrying, he then opens his wardrobe and stores his F2000 and P90 inside along with their spare magazines.
"I see. So you follow the laws laid out by the Remnants and by the ponies you work for. And won't engage in any 'dishonorable' actions. Then you can refuse to work for a pony that asks you to harm another pony or creature on Tallus?"
>Seating himself back on the bed, he steeples his hands and rests his chin on his gloves.
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351714
351786
>>351693
>Not as bright as earlier, most of the towers had returned to their original locations and there was a distinct lack of humans or ponies in sight.
>Krinza or Tipper might have noticed, but only if they were paying attention through the demi-sentient.. which you now had direct, full access to.
>Memorizing Spiral's glyphs and the access route within the Walls, the storage depots spread throughout the same, and a Tech-Forge that the Marquis helped construct, as you return to the Pagoda there was an increased brightness in the eight glowstones around the exterior.
>He never got to finish the Fortress, not even a quarter finished as the schematics flash through your mind's eye.
>What a beautiful monster it should have been.

>The crate Naliyna brought had been shoved out the south entrance, half forgotten now, while Zigri was hoofing the Crystal mare a stack of crystal plates.
"When we started getting into touch with traders around the market there were a few young mares that asked to join us, so Shanis checked them with the Wardens, they said yes. One's our.. real secretary, others help us learn what's what in the city. The batpony keeps paper records when either of them isn't around, but everything gets put on their 'liths after a night or two."
"Right, I remember telling them to only get plates from the six big Consortium brands when they came here with Shanis the first time, they're worth the extra five Bits."
>Feeding five of the stack into her own unit, Naliyna glances up to give a thoroughly calm, but definitely seething underneath gaze at the display showing purchases on Tartarus Isle.
"Any trouble Bubba? I've got twenty copies of all the items we bought, contracts, missions, and requests done. Four were just sent business class to the Spire. Paid extra for two Vanbraces, one Siren, and a... thing that looks like a needle covered plant, just in case one gets interdicted. Four are on their way to the Citadel, four to.. where?"
"Imeron. Some place Twisted loves in Saddle Arabia."
"Right, been there twice on the coast, way too hot."
"Not for me sister."
"We fought lava twice and lost. Won only once. "
".....I sit corrected."
"Keeping the other plates here until we figure out who won't use this information against us. Or try to at least."
Lost in the Crag Moors: Saving Wild's Damaged Ass
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351730
351731 351756
>>351700
"It's not going to let us leave when it's this pissed off!"
>Wrapping around your waist as seatbelts, the medical tendrils apologetically tap your sides
>Electronics in the chest cabin compartment kick on to paint the interior with red light, half of Wild's welding-laser fusillade shear into the abomination's upper large tentacle holding her left arm, the other pair dissipating in seawater.
"Would you rather have hit the screen or ceiling?"
>Rilvenni Subtype: 298/????HP

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IIj4RcvUZWQ

[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] >T#1
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] >T#2
>vs:
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 1] <E.Counter
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6 = 3]
>Metal creaks in the water outside to your right as the Eldritch-Android's left repair tendrils release another salvo at the grasping appendages holding her arm, which yanks backwards.
>Like pulling hair except far more disgusting.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 308/????HP
>Her four right tendrils rather unsuccessfully grapple with their targets, changing tactics to simply burning the damn things holding them at close range.
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #8
>vs
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] >T#3
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]

>Forcing the control sticks forwards and hard right to correct your daughter's slowly falling descent, her right knee slams into the sand underneath, the left leg flexing and kicking back, dragging the Rilvenni with her in a heavy shake that knocks something loose behind you.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 408/????HP, SEVERE BLEEDING
>At the same time the Rilvenni's tooth-filled jaw slams into Wild's buckled chest plating, the right screen showing them stuck in the poorly welded armor which gave you a perfectly terrifying look into the creature's maw.
>The hybrid's mouth was rather clean, all fear aside, but scored a whopping -500 on the beauty meter on account of the vile tongue lashing around inside.
>Caliya's teeth were absolutely normal in comparison.
>Stuck as it was and unable to disengage easily, a cloud of red-orange ichor spreads across the left side, Wild taking the opportunity to smash at the Planar hybrid's teeth lodged in her chest, he relectronic voice half-laughing in the cabin.
"Least you aren't calling me fat lazy or slow! Keep me steady and drag this bastard onto the shore, I can let you out there and maybe set it on fire-"
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
>vs:
]1d6+4] >Shearing Bite
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351731
>>351730
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] >Shearing Bite
Sand Cutter
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351735
351840
>>351701
"Otherworld or Planar that turned Unceasing Dead? How had they survived?"
>Shaking her head a bit to clear water off her eyebrows, eyes opening to blink at the Gryphon, Sand's ears splay to the sides, stunned by the knowledge, speaking after ten heartbeats.
"I can not imagine. Answers shall not be asked of Gryphon history 'less they be given free. If could not an Enforcer hold their will.. strange hours those were. Few the Vigil are, yet not to sense such is proof of currents still not found."
>Inclining her head submissively with short ear flicks, the red mare lifts her shoulders in a small rolling motion.
"Your words hold well and high War Lord. Not of my place such is to suggest punishmarents for winged I am not in commarend of."
>Tentatively flexing out muscles under each large scar starting from her neck, Sand Cutter's lips tighten angrily as she nods.
"Upon defeat of Siege against Razorback I sought to hold burdens and crimes against corrupted Watch. Five Councilierge gave blessings to claims, upheld honors of my officers and actions they did. Two, perchance three sought my death in chains a year long. Proof I have of treachery borne aloft yet Judges of Equestria may not hear my words."
>Ears turning to Budeica, Sand halts, eyes unfocused as her tail flicks away opposite the fire.
>Expressing deep apology by lowering her ears and head, her front left hoof raises to sways it in a negative motion.
"Misspoke again I have. Fauchard and satchel loaned I would ensure returned to you. Waste not, forget not is fifth rule of Knights. Sire's halberd taken from me afore hooves set in chains, little finer are weapons brought from Dynasty's end. A satchel I would ask of Razorback should humans ask my aid."
>Offering Budeica a stiff, short formal bow accompanied by a pleased smile, the mare pushes herself backwards to stretch belly down onto the floor with a huff.
"Many and marely thanks have I, honored host. A blessing on home and hearth you are. Of humans I met often those in Tower Guard's Keep. A strange diet they took, creatures of sea beloved with searing spice. Roots, tubers, gourds, nuts, fruits.. vodka."
>Caught in a half-surprised look, both of Sand's eyebrows raise in wonder before a secretive grin creases her lips.
"I knew not. Strange it sounds yet a sense there is. A wonder the mango is to unite many and marely with ease. ...know you must none of Stalliongrad dare stir batponies away from slumber to wrath. Even great Aurora descended from Moon and Sun both trembled at such thoughts. 'To wake the batpony from her dreams is to invite swift, screeching death into the hearts of all' her words were. True they are, I feel."
>Placing both front hooves around the bowl, the mare whispers a short phrase of thanks in her mother language, bending down to take a hearty bite into the hot mix.

>Pausing several munches in, Sand's eyes rotate from Budeica to Ri'Vahz, then swallows, clearing her throat to speak in a firm, recalling tone.
"Past Dynasty's fall, Gryphons, minotaurs, Kra`ken, Basilisks, Harpies, ponies and more, scattered to wind, sea, dune, forest, others far from disgrace. Of Stalliongrad's founding were earth mares most, pegasi aplenty, and-"
>Nodding once at the Warlord, then Budeica, she shifts back in her lying position to make herself heard more clearly.
"Winged ones of claw and fury, some in number they were. All bore finest of weapons and armor forged in grand temples: Regent, Escort, Defencer, Vigilite, Delver, Pathfinder, Heavy Scout, Keeper, to name oft common made. Of three centuries Stalliongrad did fight to hold crumbled city, between frost, scourging wind, Unceasing Dead. Honored best were winged ones, to sunder armor they committed, exposing Animus of Unceasing Dead. Honored most were earth mares whom steadfast purged Unceasing Dead. Honored great were pegasi to rout and divert."
"Near year of 29,200 was laid the egg of grand Gryphoness, fourth grand-fledge from Black Iron Eyrie King. Hatch she did with fury, red of first feather, green of second feather, yellow of third. By name of earth Mareguard sworn to fourth King she was given thus: Shared Roses. Were War Lord and honored host ask her acts I shall speak, but were not, speak no more I will."
>One ear swivels to each Gryphon as her eyebrows settle into neutrality, taking another bite of the stir fry.
Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351738
351755
>>351709
>Maintaining a stiff physical seated pose, Dul's face creases for three seconds, then relents to shake her head.
"Sirens hard find paths. Fire Vortex, Ice Vortex, Void Vortex, Death Vortex, Gate Vortex, paths hurt. Hard deliveries, Sirens not like. Is one Vortex call.. Neighture? No. ..Nur-ture?"
>Halting in utter disgust at being unable to say the appropriate word, Dul half-grumbles.
"Dul say wrong, not Neighture. Nur-ture is word for mare feed tiny ponies. Dul know say word wrong. Is Vortex of lots plants. Lots live things eats plants. Live things, plants, big ka. Souls. Big souls. Other Vortexes easy, Sirens not hurt go in."

>Spotting progress bars the prototype and standard unit were using, the second's acclimation was nearing 83%.
>'Tipper' however was heavily interested in the Siren, mouthing the word 'fascinating', mostly to itself.
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]

>Front left leg lifting, it sways in a back and forth motion that earth ponies used to indicate 'mostly'.
"Remnant say best honor not hurt ponies, deliver things no hurt. Remnant say tiny times Siren have.. to hurt."
>Lips and eyebrows tightening at the additional connecting word, Dul stares upwards.
"For keep things, ponies safe for deliver. Siren have duty. Remnant say Sirens work hard keep Siren safe too. Say keep Siren weapons sharp-"
>Flexing the front hooves into the four-jointed claws, the back.
"Remnant say Sirens use weapons keep honor, package, pony for deliver. Sirens think keep package safe... first is word?"
>Testing the word and speaking it several times quietly.
[1d6 = 4] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus
"Dul think right word. Dul not lie, not cheat, not steal. Dul not take package, pony Dul not task for. That not-honor. If Dul see enemy not-honor, Dul not lose honor fight enemy. If Dul learn Dul cheated, enemy stole from Dul, Dul not lose honor if Dul hurt enemy."

>Text from the 'Tipper' A.I. appears in view, which the Siren is either unable to sense or was unable to view outside of her physical 'eyes'.
'Subjective civil flexibility with a highly ingrained organizational ethic, sir. Seems to me each individual Siren's knowledge and ability, or want, to reclaim what was taken from them, figurative and literal, is a solid tactical asset. You wouldn't be deceiving her (confirmed female?) if you stated that Spiral WAS taken from Razorback and that he needs to be returned.'
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351749
351778
>>351651
"Wake up."
>Dredged from the lovely, isolated, comprehensible state of nonexistence, a familiar voice grazes your consciousness with the force of a 100MM cannon blast directly overhead.
"You must wake up immediately."
>Why did you live again?
"Please wake before I get the smelling tablets."
>What horrible atrocities have you committed, just to suffer once more?
"I am getting the smelling tablets."
>Which Eldritch half-pony deity did you piss off this time?
"I have them."
>Was it Roust?
"...why is the cork falling apart?"
>No, she was the demigoddess of butter. And love. Lovebutter perhaps?
"Ewww, this is more disgusting than Protoform! I hope they won't... stick to the floor-"
>Maybe it was another Moss-Wisp. Only it was a Moss-Pony.
"WHY ARE THEY STICKING TO THE FLOOR?!"
>WHY did it tear everything off your back and shoulders?
"Ugh, these are even more rancid than I thought-"
>AND why was it stabbing the most wretched, foul, rotten scents straight into your neurons!?
"EGH, now I'm getting sick and I just cleaned the floor-"
>It was either accept or deny, and no matter which you chose there was some hard core snootbooping needed.
"I do not want to puke here damn it-"
>Then again did a pony cause this?
"UGH!"
>Was it TWO ponies?
"WHO PUT THESE IN THE DRAWER-"
>Or was it three of the marshmallowy noodles?
"WHY HAS NOPONY OPENED THE DAMN DRAWER IN MONTHS!?"
>Four Moss-Noodles?
"WHERE DID SHE PUT THE OTHER ONES?!"
>And WHICH bright red marshamallow was raging all around you?
"AND WHY IS THERE A SEAL HERE?!"
>You were sleeping perfectly well, thank you Marery Mare!
"At least.. she's safe-"
>This is supposed to be a Clinic!
"GODDESSES DAMN IT TIPSY THIS IS A CLINIC NOT A GARBAGE DUMP WHY DID YOU STUFF OLD TEA BAGS IN YOUR CHAIR!?!"
>Breaking into a cold sweat at the last one, your eyes are forced open into the soothing, crisp tones of red, blue, and purple Clinic lighting.
>Now that was something Tipper should never have done.
"LAZY FAT FLANKED HEDONIST TRASH COLLECTOR-"
>She was all of those, sure.. but Nova was rarely interested in cuddling while awake.
"A white seal covered in sticky tea bags and honey, wonderful! What NEXT, Twisted Wing loses her head and asks me to stitch it back on!?"
>....whatever was happening outside of your own body was awful.
"Oh no no no no there's vomit on the wa-"
>Maybe you could help?
"That's not blood, and that's no- what is thi- WHO THREW A BOTTLE OF MANE COLORING IN HERE?!"
>Oh. Oh no. You were NOT helping with that one.
"Did I do that? ...no, I do not even have any."
>Too bad every single muscle you could think of did not want to move.
"Where is m- who opened th- why is there GREEN JELLY all over everything?! .....ohhhhhh Malyne you little kek monster-"
>Tonight was the night you stopped taking whatever Dancing Eyes whipped up and 'testing' her spastic nonsense.
"Wait, this isn't her claw marks.. wh- not Torven, too small. ....Foggy. You. Little. I am find and PUT HER IN MY BAG AND MAKE HER CLEAN ALL OF THIS!"
>Not even the hardest alchemicals thrown together with 80% blueberry moonshine was going to make tonight much better.
"...I can deal with these LATER, where is that damned Crystal mare at-"
>At least your wings felt good.

>Lying face down on the somewhat cool Clinic floor, you reach up with both hands to touch them.
>Soft tertiary feathers, pliant bio-crystalline skin that was definitely based on a Shell, not yet matured but highly elastic, and easily coiled musculature underneath,.
>Brushing each a few times, the melodic ringing of Empire materials occurs.
"Oh. Ahem. Lont... would you please explain why I had to pick up over two gallons of crystalline blood and sterilize the entire floor five times over?"
>Then it hits you: the elixir was double spiked.
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.351751
351776
hold the fuck up.png
>>351708
>Mallia clearly receives the words from the Inquisitorial machine spirits regarding this suddenly very friendly crystal mare, but does not send a reply apart from a single ping of acknowledgement to signal she had heard them.
>Thankfully, recording the interaction subtly was quite an easy feat.
>Using her micro-cogitator, she instructs the machine spirit to memorize this interaction until she orders it to cease, and record it's audio into her mechanicus dataslate by linking Witch-Two's and Tox-11's high quality Inquisitorial comm-bead to the dataslate and streaming the audio it hears.
>And also toggles the transceiver so that it does not transmit anything, only receive and send to her desired receptacle.

>The Enginseer focuses entirely on ... Elusine Ametrina as she introduced herself, prompting Mallia's smile to widen GREATLY into an excited beam at hearing that this was yet another knight!
>The mechadendrite's manipulator claw clicks once as she shifts on her feet with a nervous energy, then stills somewhat as she starts hearing what she is hearing.
>... Her smile ebbs slightly, going maybe a little lopsided as her eyes flick to the sight of the Rune Knight showing herself off while giving out intel.
>Mallia's brow furrows slightly for a moment at the word 'symbiote', then starts defaulting to the age-old tactic of 'nodding along' with the other person every now and then and pretending to know what she's talking about since the other party clearly thought so.

(What the heck is all this? Who are all these people she just mentioned? Is this an enemy agent? Is this a friendly agent? What is a Symbiote?? Black market? Auction?? Humans being targeted? Young ponies being reintegrated?)
(And... What, there are humans stuck in Stalliongrad? With Symbiotes?)
(And why does she look so flirtatious?)

>The Enginseer shifted on her feet slightly from lingering in place too much. Taking a small sidestep to ease her side onto the wall of the clinic beside them, relieving the weight off her legs that were starting to tremble from being so tired and out of shape, exhaling with a hint of relief from just that.
>Both arms began to slowly cross under her chest, while the mechadendrite ends up shifting about like a snake, pointing it's manipulator claw towards the Rune Knight like it were a head.
>She still smiled a little, though the expression was starting to weaken as she grasped what was being told to her.
>... But she did glance off sheepishly from that very overtly lewd grin she was getting.

(The highest ranking code? Probably my mother's Fabricator-Magos sigils...)
>Mallia could probably trick the machine spirits into thinking she was calm, keeping up a nice poker face.
>She doesn't let out the fact that she was downright terrified of the intrigue she'd just inadvertedly tripped into, blood running a bit cold in her veins.

>Winking her eyes shut for almost a second as the distortion appears and quickly fades from her vision, then rapidly blinking a couple of times, she returned her glance back to Elusine Ametrina and gave a final, acknowledging firm nod.
>Her mechadendrite moves a little under Mallia's chin, tapping on her chin with the manipulator claw once as she replied quietly.

"I have no vital reports. we-, just got here really. Buuut~ I may have someone to send your way, Lady Elusine. You'll see."
>Mallia states, a little bit of emphasis on the word 'we' as she uses it; casting glances errant glances down at the mechadendrite as she slithers it away from her chin with a small furrow in her brow, then refocuses on the Rune Knight.
(By the Motive Force, I just wanted to get my eyes checked... And why must everything ache so much.)
>She gingerly, slowly extends the mechadendrite a bit closer towards the Rune Knight.
"... Thank you."
>The mechadendrite gently approaches with maybe a tiny whirr of it's mechanical limb, and lands a very hesitant, nervous "bop" on Elusine Ametrina's crystal snout with one tip of it's metallic manipulator claw. Then flinching back ever so slightly, as if scared of what might happen next from her daring, very silly act.
"... I-is there anything else? Or are we dismissed?"

>([ᶠᵃᶦⁿᵗ ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᶦⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵍᶦⁿˢ ᵃᵍᵃᶦⁿ])
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351755
351784
>>351738
"Nature would be the word."

>Noting the completion rate, he taps his boot against the floor while waiting.
>Text prints out on his helmet display, prompting a whispered response.
"Aware of that option. Don't want to risk potential loss of accessibility to asset in event Spiral irretrievable or dead. His safety can't be assured by Dul. Too many unknowns."

>He nods slowly as Dul explains their code of conduct.
"Yes, the safety of the package comes first. That same rule is used in other 'Vortexes' with couriers who make deliveries."
>Exhaling, he turns his head to watch the progress bar.
(Alternate routes, burner vehicles, spare equipment, and contingencies... Need to prep damage control in event Spiral is unrecoverable. Should return that bill to Naliyna. Two A.I. could enable one set to Information Management. Would organize more effectively than any human or pony, and provide executive access. Avenue to achieve Protocol.)
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351756
351842
>>351730
"I can certainly bitch without meaning anything!"
>If we survive this I'm going to teach her that bitching sometimes can be done for the sake of it.
>She will learn not to take everything literally.

>Lightly flinching at the display suddenly filling up with its mouth, I couldn't help but cringe.
>That definitely needed a cleansing with a flamethrower to even begin to look better.
"I wouldn't do that to you!"
>A brief pause as I pull at the controls.
"I'd refrain from commenting on your appearance until you were fully rebuilt."
>Glancing at the rear screen, I start guiding her upwards towards shore.
"Fuck the Constructs, we'll deal with that bullshit later!"
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] >B. Riposte
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic, Exterior
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351776
351835
>>351751
>Affirming the order for datacaching, Witch-Two goes silent to focus on filing information, Tox-11 and the Tracker twins marking out detailed notes.
>Feeling more like a friendly briefing mixed with a self-interview, Andronal's ASCII image shows him in a thinking pose, sitting in a burning Leman Russ.
'a titans worth of information, thats what. shes mistaken you for an allied agent of an equine that some here considered to be an enemy. apparently that was NOT the truth at all'
'By our records you are >500 days behind on significant events that have taken place, Mallia. Not merely a friendly agent, this mare is a confirmed royal, a loyalist of the Imperial sub-faction, from the Crystal Empire. The symbiote she is referring to are highly rare components salvaged from Construct hulls that will attempt to achieve full symbiosis with an individual. Our data on such symbiotes is limited to less than five hard copies and a partial microstack of myths/rumors.'
'Tracker is right, youre far behind on intel. humans are considered a threat to 6 equine sub-factions and at least 20 power structures of other factions. first 100 humans were summoned to Equestria, deemed the originals. 30 sent to Stalliongrad, 10 each to Germaneigh and Prance, 10 to Saddle Arabia, 10 to Neighsia, other locations/numbers unknown'
'Stallionrad is currently isolated due to a highly unnatural blizzard. Access to the city is rendered nearly impossible. Severe risk factors will occur should the humans there be killed or die.'
'and do what, start calling in favors? we are stretched THIN as it is. weve got other priorities that are equally important. Razorback will require this data right now, we dont. unless Flash decides otherwise that is'
'Compromise accepted. The open flirting is due to the common expectation of luxury treatmarent to titled royalty and nobility. Individual grooming services, hoof trimming, hot baths/showers, cuddling, other wants and desires of minorly lewd nature, other special attentions. She is attempting to maintain her cover in exchange for being mistreated on purpose. An excellent agent, perhaps one to make contact with in the future.'
'youre looking at her flanks arent you'
'We are not.'
'dont worry much Enginseer, once Chisan is done you can move on to your date'

>Finished speaking and looking as if she were about to fall off standing up, Elusine's eyes partially close, though stay focused on the metallic implement with significant interest.
"Good enough. And, you do have someone? Better not be that weirdo with the sunglasses and metal hands."
>Visibly brightening at the 'dendrite coming closer, the mare's eyes snap shut, giggling at the tap to her snout.
"You get that one free on me 'cause I was expecting it, but next time I'm taking you to straight to the best sauna. Well, after my assignmarent is done. Or I ditch for a night since we're scattered all over. Whichever happens first."
>Left forehoof raising to cover her mouth from a sleepy yawn, the royal mare's head shakes negatively.
"Ahhh... I wish there was more sorry, and this is informal, remember? Staying awake is hard for me right now. I'll pass off what I can tonight, maybe see if I can sneak a letter to Cadenza."
>Rubbing above her left eye, Elusine emits a disgruntled sigh.
"Aaand she's gonna be real pissed we lost the Empire's Star. Then again it's not like anypony's used it for centuries. I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere. Any case I better get back into the role."
>Giving a short, lazy salute, she turns northwards to walk in a haughtily sashaying fashion.
'why is she strutting like that'
'Resuming her role of course.'
'does have nice hips though. CAUGHT YOU STARING!'
'We are most certainly NOT staring!'
>Calling back over her shoulder with a much harsher, colder tone than before, you're given a friendly wink along with a kissy face.
"Do not dare speak to me again or I shall use your face as a pillow for my hooves!"

'you two might enjoy getting stepped on by her'
'You are disgusting, Andronal!'
'least im honest unlike you two. also didnt say you wouldnt like that'
'We hate you.'
'youre welcome, freakos. Mallia, if you want your eyes examined run a self-diagnostic from the wave reader'
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351778
351935
>>351749

>Lont awoke.
>His nightmare fading away as his eyes focused and took in the status of the clinic.
>Maybe he just woke up into a new nightmare, if he were to be roped into cleaning this place up.

>He was slick with sweat and his breathing was heavy, he slowly lifted himself up from the now clean floor by bracing his hands onto his knees.
>And immediately got vertigo.
"Good morning to you to Nova Flicker."
>He gave her a half hearted wave with his left hand and his newly formed left wing slightly lifted up to mimic the movement. That felt so incredibly wrong, a limb that was not supposed to be there twitched and moved on its own.
>Lont looked at himself in the clinic doors' reflection. He appeared paler, was it due to the blood loss or because his heart had to pump more blood into two new extremities. Most likely both.
>The Operator continued to stare at his changed form then with sluggish determination fished around for his flask and held it up to Nova Flicker.
"This is the answer to your questions -uh!"
>He gasped and his other hand clutched at his throat.
"My voice, my voice too!"
>Stumbling backwards he fell onto an empty bed. The fall moved his fresh wings and feathers about and sent sensitive tingling's up and down his spine.
"Ah ah ah!"
>Gasped the winged human.

>This...has put a wrench into his plans.
>He stumbled off of the bed, stifling himself from making more noise and started collecting his gear.
"How long was I out cold Nova? hours, days?"
>Lont asked with a bit of humour, more to calm himself down than anything.
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351782
Spirals Lance, Vindicator By Wyzar.png

Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351784
351789
>>351755
>Twisting her lips in slow motions to emulate the word, Dul's muzzle pulls back sourly.
"Nay-ture. Na-ture. Too hard say. Not use earth pony body lots. Dul try harder."
[1d6 = 2] <Planar Adapt: Vortex

>The prototype's avatar considers risks in a flowchart, forelegs lifting as the volatility index reaches 60%.
'Possibilities unacceptable, too marely vectors to calculate. Suggest reserving that as a third-to-last or specialty option.'

>Popping herself up to stand in a smooth motion, the Siren's ears flop sideways in stressed thought.
"Dul honor laws work good? Dul not-honor.. not-laws work good too? Dul want deliver task, not want make wrong hurts."

>Reaching 85%, the standard unit was experiencing difficulty trying cross-reference the behaviors and effects of enchantments, requesting to start from the first line.
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <E.Electonic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]

('That is THE second best shopping trip I've so far this year. You would not believe the amount of spirit candy she had, five hundred still fresh in wrapper! Thought I'd never see another tube of them again. Traded for the whole box and some odds for a human that didn't remember Naliyna exists. Neighsian artistry is most special. ...typical, Lonestar isn't interested in a single one of these. He'd rather be dealing with the odds or ends Sea's Bounty finds. Since I'm done there are a few pieces you might like.')
('One of each Mystic-class flame and lightning elemarentals that increase potency of the same a bit. An armor defeating force elemental. An actual Void Starbolt producing figurine, only seen two, touched one. They're.. stranger than most of what I deal with. No idea if it needs to be imbued to a specific weapon or not. Never seen this one either, it's a mind-protecting dragon-spirit glyph. The figure is rather cute.')
('There's a dragon sphere for armor here, acts like a superior imbue. The protective sigil used is a bit unorthodox. Protects against one of either: physical weapons; ranged weaponry like bolts, arrows, spears, rocks, bullets; magic, including Druidry, Necromarecy, and some others; most Elemarentals except for the higher class varieties or hyper-specialized variants; Psionics but only physical and spiritual harm.')
('Crin feathers, an old batch unfortunately. Lets armor resist magic and most Elemarentals. Ranged weaponry will have an easier time puncturing armor or the individual though.')
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351786
351791
>>351714
>Pressing his lips together, Bubba took a moment to envision an alternate fate of the Fortress, silently nodding in approval.
>Perhaps he could work with Bren to resume work on it, now that he had an idea of what was intended.

>Walking back to the Pagoda, Bubba quietly looked the two over in a different light.
>So much politicking had gone on, and they were all pawns to some 'higher' players.
>No matter, justice shall be served accordingly, and in time.
"Not much. We need someone in the Command Center to properly file our shit, as well as get some extra hands or hooves in."
>He handed the stacks over to her, taking a step back.
"A good idea. It would be best to keep this to as few persons as possible, even here in Razorback."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351789
351804
>>351784
>He purses his lips slightly as Dul struggles with her unfamiliar physiology.
>One eye on the flowchart, he offers a pointed glance and quiet response.
"Hence my decision."

>Hearing a worried tone in Dul's question, he turns to her and nods once.
"They sound fair to me. And they've brought you this far. I don't think you'll make any mistakes because of them."
>He twitches with a brief start as Hodch chimes in via the Moon Orb.
>Reaching into his pocket while looking off to the side, he replies.
('Glad to hear they were of use to you. A Void Starbolt, that I will need to see. Thank you for the update.')
('In regards to equipment, I've brought out the Prestaniszcio, Mythril Burst Staff, Slumbering Wrath, Lacsidrae, Blood-Corrupted Water Elemental Shards, Ghost-Speak Ring, Smoke After Dusk, Spectral Chisel, Negation Amulet, Burst Pendant, and Psychokinesis Pendant from the Enclave. You and Lonestar can decide what you want to make use of first. I also acquired a ground detector hololith tablet on loan from the Underground and initial scouting reports for the ruin state it has no doors and instead a Planar, possibly Eldritch moving stasis field around its perimeter. Post Middle, Pre Late Dynasty architecture.')
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351791
351811 351815 351816
>>351786
>Face hardening at the display, Naliyna runs through suspect purchases by Tartarus, cross-referencing them with Treaty limitations and muttering angrily.
"Lonestar and Emerald take care of what they can when the first isn't working with Ferron. Dunno why he likes them so much, never talks to me. Emerald's the only middlemare we have to some of the really suspicious groups. There's only a few humans around here that don't pitch in when asked, but without another Crystal pony here I'm stuck. And I'm not asking my daughters for help. What I wouldn't offer to hire a pair of Runesmiths."
>Taking the binders and papers from you, Zigri lays the first aside next to him, the second out on the table, picking through only the contracts, missions, and requests while giving you a speculative side-eye.
"Little more explanation on that if you could?"
"Not a good idea right now, look at this-"
>Showing a compiled list of Stalliongrad only relics purchased by Tartarus inhabitants, the Spirit Hunter's cocky expression vaporizes.
>Idly examining the items in question, Shanis had authorized spending nearly double what Razorback did, and was in possession of far more politically, culturally, and some pseudo-religiously volatile artifacts.
>One listed as sacred catches your attention: Temple's Gray Eye, one of thousands created in the Middle Dynasty by the Undead Vigil Light Cult allowing direct contact with Psions or living sapients in a limited radius.
>Which you'd seen Lucky show off whenever she could, using it to either keep in touch with 'Pear Blossom', and with the right training, mind read those with weak or nonexistent willpower.
>Addicted ponies weren't even treated as slaves. Expendable pets was more fitting.
"..we're so fucked."
"That's what I said at first. There's way more going on and there is good news: a few parties are covering our collective asses."
"I'm.. not going to ask anything more. Anyhow, uh, we've cleared everypony, minotaur, Gryphon, couple Eyes, few Rams of the Free Flocks including some kin of that Lunar Councilmaster. And a Harpy. Once. I don't like dealing with Aehahl or Aelhwen, their voices hurt."
>The soul-glyph confirms his words, except for Khahlani: he wouldn't have been able to clear the upper level parties with triggering retribution.
>If he'd tried there was a high chance every single pony on Tartarus would have been dead over three months ago.
"Then let's make sure only the three of us know until we have enough evidence of our own."
>Naliyna was safe from Psions and most every unicorn less than Spiral at his peak.
>The armor she'd collected, still forgotten south of the Pagoda, was a Medium Siegemare Platform that you could sense; the heavy anti-Construct lance and anti-fortification battering ram original makes.
>Her tempered, violent nature would have been useful if drawn out immediately after Spiral left; you chalk that one up to her daughters not wanting to see the terror their dam became once more.
>Zigri's hostility and multiple Eldritch enchantmarents rendered him impossible to torture; the Tsiotrope he'd bonded his soul with would rather kill the stallion than allow him to commit treachery.
>Naliyna's home was here and Zigri owed his existence to Razorback, though he despised humans for simply being Otherworldly.
>Both were incorruptible so far as you and the soul-glyph could reach into their souls.
"Soooo... what am I doing Nal?"
"Sort everything from Tartarus, Las Pegasus, Solars, and Lunars into their own stacks. Out of order doesn't matter. Give me all the pages from everywhere else. Once I get an image of each the InterPony will tag everything with references and link to where they were bought, prices, who was there, and which exact Treaties are at risk, bent, or broken. Bubba, any leads we CAN know and use for the time being?"
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <E.Crystal Engineering
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
Razorback Fortress: Standard Barracks
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351804
351815 351816
>>351789
>Locating common interests, both A.I. shift their focus to extrapolating known factors of magic, avoiding the pitfalls of debating 'why' energetics or resonances functioned, focusing on consistent patterns of how and when.
'I will try to address lack of knowledge on friendly/potentially allied Planar beings in the future. For now, excellent progress is being made.'
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]

>Lifting herself another half meter above the floor, Dul considers your words, shortly presenting a merry smile along with a small, respectful bow.
"Dul thank you. Dul like learn, want know lots more. Sirens not think lots."
[1d6 = 2] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus

>Speaking with a satisfied tone, Hodch is heard exiting from cloth.
('Sourced everything I need. Two years now I haven't found more than half a tube of spirit candy, then a clan mare shows up with an entire crate freshly made and sealed. ..I don't even know why she's here. No matter. I'll pick up the Starbolt-host figurine, should be useful if there's a suitable vessel for it. Or if I make one. If you want any of the others let me know.')
('Excellent selection. Little heavy on anti-Undead but why not. You and Lonestar can share what's preferred, I'll need the Prestaniszcio for sure, will collect Form and Function shortly. By the way, we'll be bringing Vindicator. Roust and Denra have used it a few times, they say it's safe enough, if hard to understand. No option there, it.. misses Spiral terribly.')
('...that's the same ruin I went to on my first Expedition. Was barely fifteen then. Scraped by Intermediate Field Investigation and scraped by on Objective Resonance Analysis courses. Met Spiral during the briefing. Damn. Those.. those are good memories.')
('I know a few routes from here, old roads mostly, not comfortable. One of the old Warp Gates might, I stress MIGHT, still be partially intact in some of the northern New Everfree Escort outposts or walled cities. You have a vehicle in mind or should I ask Lonestar for one? And, a hololith tablet with ground detection capabilities? That's a rare piece of equipmarent these days. Glad you convinced somepony to part with one, they're hard to find. Waiting list is half a year from what Naliyna has told me.')
('By the way, Kaytal Alvugarde will be joining us. She's agreed to our expedition for six moonshine crates, the entire Lunar Laws and Treaties volume series, a full set of post-War batpony Berserker armor, and trade rights with Luna's Villages. ...except the few I'd rather she not have access to. Don't need to go back home and find crude depictions of fillies on all my windows again. Ah, there is one stipulation: she hates coconuts due to severe allergenic responses. Humans and their bizarre genetic lineages, I swear.')
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351811
351815 351816 351833
>>351791
"Yeah, problem is she doesn't know where the hell Lonestar even disappeared to. He wasn't there when I swung by, just Torven, staring into space."
>Bubba grimaced, obviously not pleased.
"Communication is fucking key and a lot of us just seem to disappear when we please, without letting anyone know where to."
>That is how people disappear for good.

>Looking over several of the items, Bubba could only feel a bit more anger.
>It was all that was going through the veteran at the moment.
>Glancing the two over, Bubba would nod in agreement.
"Well. Lucky isn't even a "player" in this game of fucking us over, she's just a pawn just like us, only higher up."
>He took a seat in a chair, rubbing his face.
"I have a hunch Hodch knows something as well, but if we do question him about this we'll have to be very fucking prepared to do so, because this shit goes all the goddamn way up to Canterlot royalty."
>He gave a pointed look towards the two.
"We have items that may be useful in patching up relations with those that would probably be glad to do so, I say we fix that as best as we can in the next few days, then focus on which piece of shit has a hate erection over Razorback's existence enough to be doing this."
>He looked at Zigri briefly.
"More of one than you do, anyway."
>He shuffled a few papers he still had in hand.
"Though some of the older inhabitants here should be roped into this before too long, they'll possibly be necessary."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351815
351816
>>351804
>Exhaling slowly through his nose, he closes his eyes to think.
('Understood. Will check the trader in person for the rest. I'll leave Prestaniszcio at the Pagoda.)
('...Then fate has a sense of humor if we truly find Spiral there. The Panhard's capacity is insufficient. We'll need a larger transport.')

(Katyal? Recall a joint operation offer for Countess Folunasi... Jeff established that link. Unstable, responds poorly to authority, obvious trauma, untrustworthy. Only combat experience welcome.)

('Noted.')

>Pushing himself up off his bed, he opens the chest at the foot of it and retrieves Spiral's unusual bills to Yearning Touch.
"It's good that you want to learn. Being curious is one way to become stronger."
>Folding them gently, he secures them into his pocket before stepping to his A.I. drives, quietly stating to his helmet's internals:
"Switch to wireless network transfer. Current levels should be sufficient for preparation around Razorback."
>He handles the newly acquired A.I.'s drive and slots it into the back of his helmet, confirming secure connections and nominal fuction.
>Reaching for his Holo-Laptop, he logs in and plugs 'Tipper's' drive into it.
"You can use this for additional processing output, offload, and storage. A backup of my archives, AARs, and logs are on there. Hardware's damaged, but better than nothing."

>Returning to his bed and donning all the gear and artifacts once more, he steps out and shuts the door once Dul exits.
>Doing the same outside the Barracks, he heads for the Pagoda while scanning the courtyard for the Neighsian trader's location.

"Radio frequency EnCru, six point eight one gamma."
>He tests to ensure the band is receiving before informing him of the artifacts acquired from the Enclave and that if he wanted his first pick, he could meet at the Pagoda.

>As he nears the small structure he notes a large crate blocking the southern entrance, towers of familiar papers he helped organize, and two unexpected helpers.

>>351811
>>351791

>Murmuring to himself,
"Zigri... and one of the original humans summoned here. Records... Bubba. Should be 'trustworthy' enough. Time to ask questions."
>Making his way towards them, he takes out the folded bills to present to Naliyna. Intently observing all three for tells, reactions, and general psychological state.
"Two bills missing from the records. I'd thought I could use them to locate Spiral, and through other means I now have a potential lead. These should be returned to the stack date period around when Spiral was approving major transactions."
>He then turns to look at Zigri, making sure there would be little doubt who he was looking at behind his helmet mask.
"Sha'Ro was present overseeing the Khahlani arena duel. Would you happen to know anything about that?
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351816
351833 351836
>>351815
Correction:

>>351804
>Exhaling slowly through his nose, he closes his eyes to think.
('Understood. Will check the trader in person for the rest. Will inform you when ready.)
('...Then fate has a sense of humor if we truly find Spiral there. The Panhard's capacity is insufficient. We'll need a larger transport.')

(Katyal? Recall a joint operation offer for Countess Folunasi... Jeff established that link. Unstable, responds poorly to authority, obvious trauma, untrustworthy. Only combat experience welcome.)

('Noted.')

>Pushing himself up off his bed, he opens the chest at the foot of it and retrieves Spiral's unusual bills to Yearning Touch.
"It's good that you want to learn. Being curious is one way to become stronger."
>Folding them gently, he secures them into his pocket before stepping to his A.I. drives, quietly stating to his helmet's internals:
"Switch to wireless network transfer. Current levels should be sufficient for preparation around Razorback."
>He handles the newly acquired A.I.'s drive and slots it into the back of his helmet, confirming secure connections and nominal fuction.
>Reaching for his Holo-Laptop, he logs in and plugs 'Tipper's' drive into it.
"You can use this for additional processing output, offload, and storage. A backup of my archives, AARs, and logs are on there. Hardware's damaged, but better than nothing."

>Returning to his bed and donning all the gear and artifacts once more, he steps out and shuts the door once Dul exits.
>Doing the same outside the Barracks, he heads for the Pagoda while scanning the courtyard for the Neighsian trader's location.

>Recalling Lonestar's unusual personal frequency, he states:
"Radio frequency EnCru, six point eight one gamma."
>He tests to ensure the band is receiving before informing him of the artifacts acquired from the Enclave and that if he wanted his first pick, he could meet at the Pagoda or the Neighsian trader.

>As he nears the small structure he notes a large crate blocking the southern entrance, towers of familiar papers he helped organize, and two unexpected helpers.

>>351811
>>351791

>Murmuring to himself,
"Zigri... and one of the original humans summoned here. Noteworthy status. Records... Bubba. Should be 'trustworthy' enough. Time to get answers."
>Making his way towards them, he takes out the folded bills to present to Naliyna. Intently observing all three for tells, reactions, and general psychological state.
"Two bills missing from the records. I'd thought I could use them to locate Spiral, and through other means I may have a potential lead. These should be returned to the stack date period around when Spiral was approving major transactions."
>He then turns to look at Zigri, making sure there would be little doubt who he was looking at behind his helmet mask.
"Sha'Ro was present overseeing the Khahlani arena duel. Would you happen to know anything about that?
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351831
Duelblade by Wyzar.png

Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351833
351836 351837 351841
>>351811
>Left wing extending to point past you, Zigri's mirth highly visible while he sorts through.
"Him and Hodch have been going from the Command Center to here ten times tonight while I've been checking on the Blades. They've been doing who knows what for the past half hour. Peach Drop is interrogating somepony, never heard her angry before. Ghost Jade is doing what she normally does. Couple more are.. having fun with a few humans. They're off duty at least."
>Naliyna gives you a flatly approving look, tapping an onscreen button to scribe a crystalplate, the hololith humming merrily.
"I'm not always in either, it's all I can do to keep records when I am here. At least Spiral kept track of everyone and everypony."
>Glancing to you briefly, Zigri frowns while holding up a Las Pegasus notice for Naliyna to take an image of from the hololith.
"She was definitely that city's Matron, but this stuff's telling me she was caught between what her Rogues were doing and Equestria. I know for a fact she was being targeted by Lunars, even a few Honor Guard. There was that fucked up flame hybrid there for a while too."
>Placing a crystal disc off to the side for Zigri, Naliyna grumbles good naturedly at the reservist's name.
"He has priorities too. We're behind half a damn year which has probably made everypony that wants to keep us safe working double time. I'll mark down everything we do have that needs to be returned and put it on a notice."
>Unable to suppress a grimace, the Spirit Hunter takes on a partially chided expression.
"Try it from my side: most of what I've seen from Otherworlders is damage. I'm not saying humans are individually negative, you've all done a fuckload for us, Moors, Ferron, Luna. The fact all of you are Otherworldly is what irks me. That's inherent and can't be removed, I'm not angry, just.. I don't know what to do or think about that subject."
>He was trying, at least.
>Tossing another plate next to Zigri, the surface ripples with a Crystal pony dancing in circles, the tradesmare smiling.
"You mean... that's a great idea! I can have a disc put together in a few hours, I think. This is going a lot quicker than I thought it might."

>>351816
('More like a curse, and not the best type. I'll ask him for a vehicle, he's spoken about some... Project that his people put together back on his world a few times. I have no idea what to expect. Talk in a bit.')

>Smiling at the encouragement, Dul shapes her features a bit more clearly, now a passable, if single toned, earth mare with brighter eyes.
"Dul try harder learn then! Dul think new big things now. Dul have lots small thinks. Small easy, less fun now."

>Visually confirming the request and switching to text-only mode, the standard's connection reads as secured before displaying itself internally.
>Cutting the render and appearing on the holo, 'Tipper' stares down at the damaged unit, intriguined and miffed at the state.
"This is from right before my production run. Maybe a little espionage, or someone wanting a few secrets? Either way, damaged or not it'll be a great help. We'll switch to direct interface modes instead, less clutter for you to deal with."
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Tech-Research
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]

>Spinning around to follow you, the Siren focuses on repeating words and small physical movemarents, stressing her emulation capabilities.
[1d6 = 5] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus

>Sighting a large tent south of the main gate, two large, red paper lanterns were hanging in the air over its entrance, a human in a cowboy hat standing a distance east from it, holding up a round silver disc.
>The automated system has some difficulty processing the coded frequency, cracking through multiple low level naval encryptions that spell out an odd phrase: 'Nine Dead Ships In Orbit, One Sunk'.
*"Got'cha tagged on my end. Tryin' ta see if these new ones are gonna get me a nice land babe. Meet'cha at th'Pagoda in a few 'less this one fails."*
[1d6 = 2] <Silver Wish Disc
[1d6 = 6]

>Noting the Pagoda's glowstones seemed to be brighter, as you enter Zigri doesn't look up from sorting pages though you get a slight nod from him, 'Shiibo' pointedly staring at the younger stallion.
>Naliyna's hololith displays lighting the interior, she was scanning each page Zigri holds up for her, pausing to hum and lifting the papers from you, eyebrows creasing at a quick read.
"I remember a bunch like these two. Spiral left a bunch of weird stuff in his log books under that huge furnace of his. None of it had to deal with the fortress so.. what was his name, Nick? Started with En. Anyhow, he probably stuffed these ones into the stacks I was trying to archive. Next ones please."

"What is it with humans that never take their helmet off? It's not like I can't see everything about you anyways."
>The Spirit Hunter turns his attention up with a mock annoyed tone, working on muscle memory to hold one page steady for Naliyna's unit to take an image before setting it on a quickly increasing pile.
"Who? I don't know any 'Sha'Ro', that'd be a real old name, probably Late Dyna-"
>Still for two heartbeats, he continues the process, thoroughly disgusted in tone and scowling.
"If you happen to mean 'Shared Roses', born in Stalliongrad, acted as Regent for a few years, became a white Enchained Gryphon the size of most earth ponies there? No, I don't. Khahlani's elders didn't say anything about her, all we cared about was Bren getting her building materials. I hate her, she's not like Twisted in the fucking slightest and I don't want to deal with a single stone she's touched."
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.351835
351937
>>351776
>The context provided by Witch-Two and Tox-11 was fairly eagerly given all the attention possible. It was a thick block of information.
>And she lingers a bit on the bit where Tracker clearly states Symbiots were Construct derivates.
(...)
(Ave Deus Mechanicus...)
(... I'll need a timeline of events eventually. Possibly when I am able to conclude the day.)
(--And--, and, uh, noted. On the flirting part.)

>The description of a man with "sunglasses and metal hands" does make her brow shoot up with sudden interest and confusion, followed by her smile going lopsided and her eyes shifting from the giggling she elicits with the boop. Mechadendrite retracting to half-cover her lip with the manipulator claw.
(Cadenza... Who is that? Someone important if this knight answers to them. The Empire's Star...)
>Listening with rapt attention still, she is quick to make a quick salute in return. Albeit without leaning from the clinic's wall yet, her arm falling a bit limp back to her side once she lowered it.

>Following Elusine with her glance as they sashayed off, she maybe glanced sidelong for a split-second while Andronal and the Tracker Twins did their antics, before the Rune Knight's harsh call made her eyes snap to focus on them again.
>She half-brings up her hands in a playfully surrendering gesture. Smiling broadly while her cheeks redden a bit more, and her mechadendrite makes an up-and-down wave to bid the crystal mare farewell.

>With the interaction over, she allowed herself the luxury of a sigh of relief. Winking her eyes shut as she leans from the clinic's wall, lingering for just a second.
>She allowed her gaze to wander a bit off into space as she briefly refocuses inward. Re-interfacing with her Micro-cogitator to order it to cease recording protocol and reset the inquisitorial comm-bead to previous settings. Then politely requests and begins a self-diagnostic, as Andronal suggested.

<Chroniton Wave-Reader: Self-Diagnose
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]

(... Okay... But, I must remark on this. Tracker said that the "Symbiotes" are 'salvaged' from Construct hulls--according to unreliable sources. As far as I can gather here they are still[/i abominable intelligence! since the code itself, last I analyzed from that killing machine that rampaged around here beforehand, capable of reproducing and being dangerous on it's own. And from what Elusine has said there are humans... 'Symbiote accepted' humans. Who have these things. [i]in symbiosis with them...)

>She let's out a slight groan of physical discomfort, a shiver running up her spine from just the THOUGHT of construct-like beings merging with humans to make a whole.
>... Mallia then resumes moving with strides, albeit going north-east, taking the more direct-ish route towards the workshop past the right-most barracks and around the command center.
>A focused, but attentive glance to her face, and a steady military pace still.
>Though slows a bit as she remembers one thing: That strange package Chisan had reported, and she starts looking down to double-check her empty las-pack pouches and grenade pouches, and her uniform's pants pockets, for items...

>Meanwhile, she taps into the private, Inquisitorial Ordo Chronos frequency she and Chisan share.
*"Storm Trooper... I have had a somewhat interesting development, just now."*
>Double-checking via her MIU that the frequency was "safe", she keeps going after a 0.5 second of pause.
*"Apparently I have been mistaken for a contact by a faction's undercover agent? An Imperial Rune Knight. And I now have a lot of intel I'm not supposed to have. Tox-11 tells me you have training for this kind of stuff, so I am on my way to give you greater context in the form of the entire recorded conversation."*
*"... And also a new objective, so that we can go deeper."*
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351836
351898 351934
>>351816
>>351833
"Off duty is whatever, it becomes a problem when someone's supposed to be on duty and vanishes with no information as to what the hell they're doing."
>Looking up briefly, Bubba would raise an eyebrow as a human he wasn't too familiar with entered.
>"Pareidolia, if I recall correctly."
>Giving him a nod, Bubba let out an amused snort.
"Okay, the four of us then. Hodch doesn't count, he's a part of this, though forced to be."

>Bubba would take a moment to read through a few papers, glancing back up only to mentally note down what Pare was saying.
>"Finding Spiral is as important as the other objectives. Not a bad idea at all."
>He gave an affirmative nod in response, before thinking for a brief moment.
"Peach is still interrogating the Vortex creature, probably about done with that by now. She's angry because of the same shit we're currently going through, but specifically with what happened at the Memorial Village."
>He let out a soft snort at Zigri's comment about helmets, quietly noting the weight on his head.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351837
351898
>>351833
>He nods at his display, confident his A.I. will note it as their readouts shrink down to a smaller progress bar instead.

>Hearing Lonestar's response, he offers an affirmative while wincing internally.
(Hate to bring even more human technology in direct face to Tallus. If we can bring Spiral back and his condition is stable... maybe this can be reconciled.)

>Hearing Zigri's response, Pareidolia's eyes narrow slightly.
(His disdain is real at least.)
"Then how about a large, muscular, red earth pony that followed Lucky around who claimed to have plenty of work available for human clients at that gathering of elders?"
>Gripping his vest and resting his gloved hands on it, he continues speaking and scrutinizing Zigri's reactions intently.
"Because given what the siren who was there told me, a black earth pony with a weak heart, a gold Aehalin pegasus with damaged vocal chords, Lucky's red earth pony friend, and that Enchained white gryphon were making decisions about what would happen whether that spectre, siren, or humans won that fight. Sounds far more involved than a simple logging rights exchange to me. And I've had enough of contracts without thorough questions. I'd like an understanding on what Razorback's overhead is here before I leave to try and bring Spiral back from a ruin he may have become trapped in trying to dig humans out of their collective grave."
>Catching himself, he sighs allowing the slight malice that had crept into his voice to diffuse.
>He briefly checks behind him to ensure Dul hasn't wandered off or become too disturbed by the exchange before turning his helmet back.
Budieca and Ri'Vahz and Food
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351840
351932
>>351735

>R'Vahz clicked her beak, glanced to Budieca than back to Sand Cutter. Swe's mate basically knew everything after Spruce and Adon crashed here at the tower, alcohol makes loose beaks.
"They were utterly destroyed in life and then buried along with their city by a conjured Sentient, though over the thousands of years their god from their own plane slowly sapped away the Sentients power and helped give undead life to its serpentine followers."
>The Warlord merely shrugged her wings.
"Blackbeak is fine nowadays, spending more time in Aangfang than here but it's been pretty boring in the Vale as of late so I don't blame the grumpy birdbrain."
>She said playfully, there was no animosity anywhere to be sensed.

>Ri'Vahz mimicked Sand Cutters ear movements.
"I try my best, don't want to give bad impressions to outsiders."
>As the pony spoke of the siege and what happened after she heard mild purring coming from within the chest of the Warlord, the tip of her tail wagging with a life of its own.
"So ya got screwed over by the Powers-That-Be, hate that happened to you. And when you return to Stalliongrad you're hoping to expose the corruption again?"
>Asked the Warlord, jumping to conclusions, then raised a claw to dismiss Sand Cutters apology.
"You're fine Equine, its obvious you're having trouble talking in Common, I should by now know how to speak multiple languages yet I don't."
"Chamber Librarian Eolas-Toir has offered to train you on many an occasion!"
>Budieca practically shouted at Ri'Vahz, her avian voice reaching a pitching shriek.
"Yes! Yes I know Budieca it's just-"
"No! No excuses!"
"Its just so borin'...And as I was saying-"
>She gave the other catbird a glare to shut her up, which she complied with a spiteful smile.
"-I should be talking to you in your own tongue. But I understand now, if you ever want the Fauchard or any other weapon just ask me before you leave."

"No problem, I would feel terrible if I were to let you go with an empty stomach, what kind of host would I be."
>Budieca's eyebrows rose in surprise that there were humans in Stalliongrad, though shouldn't of been that taken aback as Adon came from the Inner Kingdoms, he met the High King himself for feathers sake!
"Didn't know there are humans in Stalliongrad, hope they're doing fine being away from Razorback. And I haven't heard of that phrase before though its very apt, all the Batponies I've met certainly like to sleep a lot and hide away mangoes in the most inconvenient places."
>She said, giggling at remembering how one time she found a dozen mangoes nestled between her thighs when waking up from a nap.

>Being surrounded by carnivores there was a fear that the veggies would of been tainted by some sort of meat residue. But there was nothing, just the fresh taste of Prence peppers and the lovely crunch of broccoli with a hint of lemon.

>Sand Cutter noticed that as she explained both Budieca and Ri'Vahz had craned their necks lower to listen, both set of feline ears facing her. Twitching every time she munched on her food.
>Budieca was unfocused by the end, her eyes dilated as she stared into nothingness in Sand Cutters direction. The Warlord however...
"Black Iron Eyrie King. Shared Roses. Grand Gryphoness."
>Is all she muttered under her breath, behind her eyes those words made things click in her head. She blinked several times, then shook her head. And slapped herself with both her claws, dislodging some small pinions from her feathery features.
"So you're telling me -No wait, no."
>She rubbed her cranium with both wing joints, trying to accept all this information.
"I think what Sand Cutter is saying the Royal in the shadows is this Shared Roses, a Gryphoness who has direct blood with the High Kings themselves."
>Budieca said with a dazed voice, no longer starring into the void and moving towards the stack of burning wood.
"And she's a problem?"
>Ri'Vahz asked tentatively.
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351841
351845
nal at stall.png
>>351833
Lost in the Crag Moors: Saving Wild's Damaged Ass
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351842
351847
>>351756
"Then can I ask for more options than what I have if bitching works-"
>Dragging the Rilvenni's left tentacles closer to her side and giving them a rude squeeze, two her laser-welder units angrily misfire in the churning water, the other two scoring hits though the plating on her upper arm scrapes from being crushed in response.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 463/????HP
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] >T#1
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] >T#2
>vs.
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 3] <E.Counter
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 5]

>Two of her right tendrils point blank carve partway through one of the abomination's tentacles, one failing to initialize and the other sputtering, a vibrating hiss-shriek coming through the cabin.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 488/????HP
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #8
>vs:
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] >T#3
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] >T#4

>Straining to pull backwards on the pilot sticks, Wild's left leg kicks off sand to little effect, the right landing solidly and bringing the Planar creature with her as the left makes contact again.
"Getting close to the shore-"
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <M.Nuclear Sprint
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]

"Can deal with being called fat but not slow-"
>Armor next to the camera view on Wild's right chest shears out, a blue blur off the screen entering fast from right, her fist slamming the Rilvenni's jaw with enough force to shake her entire frame.
"I look beautiful compared to this thing!"
>The chunk of blue armor plating the creature had in it's mouth immediately disappears into a cloud of red-orange ichor along with a large number of the strange teeth spilling left into the churning water.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 543/????HP
I GOT SOME OF IT'S TEETH, NOW FOR THE REST!"
>Arm left and nearly touching her shoulder, Wild reverses her fist at the not quite stunned Rilvenni, the partially crushed jaw retracting before snapping out at the incoming backhand.
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Heavyweight
>vs:
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] >Shearing Bite
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Heavyweight
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351845
screenshot_redraw_commission_big_by_dragonfoxgirl_ddgnjij.png
>>351841
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351847
352115
>>351842
"Bitching and anger at being considered food are what you get!"
>Recalling what Silver did a while ago to us humans, I had an idea.
>And it was already underway.
"I can do something once we breach the surface, at least!"
>Continuing to keep Wild steady, I keep moving her upwards towards ever so slightly more safety.
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] >B. Riposte
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]

"A fucking 500lb bomb going off in a bunker looks better than this!"
>Snarling, I glare at the screens that show off the vile creature.
"Burning this bitch should help, if I get the opportunity!"
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351898
351934 352023
>>351836
>Sharing a glare between each other, Zigri and Naliyna were well aware of the implications.
"Most of Tartarus take a contract and come back with a completed or failed note written. Then I have to chase that group down to ask what they got into. The bat tries her best but she's only one mare, we've got almost two thousand ponies on the Isle."
"Most of Razorback takes a contract, and some will actually say what they've done on the Bulletin Board. It's rare I even heard a full report... since Spiral's been gone. Emerald and Lonestar just aren't the same."
>Same problems, same issues, different locations, entirely different ponies, exact same irritation.
>There were a few options, but most ponies made terrible secretaries.
>Raising an eyebrow while helping Naliyna scan pages, Zigri's disbelief is genuine.
"Vortex. Can't blame her, nopony ever wants to deal with those fuckers. They're either loud zealots, quiet zealots, insane, or all three. Memorial Village rings a bell. Luna visited us a few times, said she was looking for a few earth psions to help rebuild a few armories. Don't know what happened. Been too busy getting everypony to the Atelier, fucking around with Blades only contracts, and staying sane."
"Okay, then we're not going to say anything about that out loud. Right?"
"Right."

>>351837
>To the northwest is a loud [b]thud[/b that briefly shakes the courtyard, followed by less loud, far more enthusiastic whooping.
*"An'they said it'd NEVER work out! Fuck you Three Foundries assholes! Plasma cannons, laser Ay-Em-Es, full skin looks goods... Ocean gods be damned everythin's intact! We're gonna have th'best ride ever! .....gonna need a gunner though, hope that human's good with high tech. Ahwelp, time ta check this baby's fuel blocks an systems out-"*

>The, mostly, fake dislike Zigri presented was relative; he accepted humans but wholly disliked their spiritual conditions on account of his anti-esoteric nature.
>Naliyna on the other hoof was bizarrely focused on cross-referencing new information from the hundreds of contracts, missions, and requests Razorback had taken or left.
>It was an extremely rare event to see her operating at maximum efficiency.

"You mean Tacit. He worked for Lucky about.. three, four months? Never met him in Las Pegasus."
>A slight twist of the Spirit Hunter's ears indicated he was hiding something from the first, the second and third were entirely true.
>Feathers rippling in faint hostility that wasn't directed towards you, or others in the Pagoda, he stops to give you a full, honestly disparaged frown.
"Stream Lark is Linara's adopted dad. I knew the two pretty good up until.. four years ago, always gave us good jobs around the Industrial Sector. Linara's throat was sealed by the Tower Guard after she made contact with a Wild One, was about eleven or so. She can't talk or that thing's voice would do whatever it wanted. They're good ponies, so if I hear a single human targeting either I'll slit that throat myself. Tacit was just another earth pony trying to score a few hot feathered mares, there was plenty he could pound into pieces."
>The last part was shaded, not quite truthful, but not yet a lie; moreover a tiny smirk gave away that he wanted pegasi to be killed in the cloud city, not seduced as his words stated.
"Sha'Ro's a damned Enchained that Stalliongradites either love or hate, if you leave her alone she doesn't get her cursed claws on everything. Khahlani elders got what they wanted for more lodges, Razorback didn't have to pay half a million Bits for a fortress expansion. Shanis and me clear every contract to make sure nopony can harm Razorback, Spiral made that clear. Razorback fucked up trusting Lucky to keep her shit straight so don't try to pin a damned thing she did on us, we got screwed five times harder than you all did."
>The first four were blatantly true, he had switched to rational, if contemplative recall, but the last was probably the wrong nerve to touch given his outright, honest hostility directed at you.

"Three-point-six million Bits went to Lucky. If I had KNOWN the traders I do now, that would have been two hundred fifty thousand."
>Pausing to show a tally of overpriced items Razorback had purchased in the past, then the standard prices at the most expesive, Naliyna faintly glowers as nearly a third are then listed as banned, restricted, or illegal to own, including the Smoke After Dusk you now had.
"Total. If you're going to blame someone or somepony for poor decisions find proof of their actions first, please. We're currently violating almost six thousand Treaty stipulations, provisions, and laws of access, not including those from the Gryphon Kingdoms, Stalliongrad or Rushya, Dragonspines, and more. By the way you have the Smoke After Dusk, can feel it since I've passed by it so much in the Enclave. If we weren't Lunar allied you'd be looking at several years in jail. That's just the start of how royally screwed we are."
Snowfall
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.351904
352125
>>351283

>The dainty cloven hooves of a Pred-Elk approached the Clinic from the west, entering the Fortress by the Main Gate after finishing his patrol of the surrounding Everfree.
>Snowfall was a bit different to his siblings, he knew this and accepted it. His coat was covered in white speckles with grey specks were around his barrel and face while the usual dirty Pred-Elk brown ran from the top of his head down to his fluffy tail. Which started to wag in silent excitement as he neared the clinic. He was going to transfer all the power he built up to his sisters to cheer them up.
>It wasn't just his looks that made him different, his personality was less bombastic than that of his kin. He radiated a calmness around himself and spoke few words, at first he made others around him feel like he was reclusive. No, he was merely comfortable being quiet. And this trait served him well in getting in unexpected jokes and jabs at others.
>While his brothers and sisters would flop onto somepony and fall asleep then and there he would wait for his target to sleep first then he would carefully insert himself as the small spoon, making sure his antlers didn't get in the way.
>He learned the hard way that ponies and people don't appreciate being awoken by antlers to the eyes, or nostrils.

>The Fortress was quiet, he didn't personally mind though it did make him wonder where was everypony and if he was missing some event. The only sign of activity was towards the Pagoda. It did not concern him.

>By a near 50 metres away from the Clinic building Snowfall slowed to a stop as his nose caught wind of a scent, a new odour was emanating from somewhere.
>His nose lead his head into snooting the dirt. He hoofed at it, took a bite, chewed on it and spat it out. He nodded sagely. There was something underneath the Fortress.
>But how?
>He closed his magical eyes in concentration, copper antlers casually zapping the air around him with erratic discharges of electricity.
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] >B.Perception
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]

[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] >E.Druidry
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
A Curious Inquest
Indurian
!!yTO.NMjpuo
571c39f
?
No.351907
351921
>>349361
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Stafmcp74NM

>The knight gives the wine a swish about the mouth before swallowing, trying to examine its flavors more closely but quickly remembering that wine tasting was always a pursuit of the nobility, and one he never really could appreciate or understand. The drink did give him an artificial sense of warmth and comfort, and so he laid in repose listening to all that Lime Ruby tells him
"Well, verily I am gladdenned by the news that Lady Cadence's elixirs have improved over the years, apparently! And these warrior-poets you speak of - fascinating, and I would much like to meet one, but first..."
>The knight lifts himself from the bed and meets Ruby's eyes before continuing
"The news that thou art of advanced age doth give me a shrewd idea: you see, recently, a companion of mine and I were dispatched to the nearby forest on a mighty quest to return a certain friend of ours to safety..."
>Indurian then goes on to recount, with some dramatic embellishment, his version of the events leading up to and including his recent outing with Ivan, finishing with the retelling of the massive construct which seemed to be bent on their destruction and the party's narrow escape from death
"... but, as riveting a tale as this must be, I tell it to you with the hopes of asking thus: what mayest thou say to me of this "United Regions Alliance"? Dids't thou witness its rise and fall? Have you any recollection of such an uprising in your time?"
>He finishes with a small, respectful bow
"Please, my lady - this URA was apparently deeply involved with constructs, at least from what Ivan and I could uncover within the short time we had been given. Any information you may have could prove useful!"
Razorback Fortress: The Armory
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351913
351969
>>351220
>Stilling his inspection of the smartphone, the human gestalt smiles under the mask in a brutally cold manner for a handful of seconds, the sensation dissipating quickly after.
"I'll... remember that. In case you happen to request something and there's an artifact nearby. There doesn't seem to be a problem grabbing food, ammunition, magazines, grenades, objects close by. I bet that's since most areas are completely fucked anyways."
>Pointing the bottle at a loud thud, then a clanking sound behind you, Anon snorts.
"Don't be surprised, Bren has chilled out quite a bit. These days she doesn't even grumble. And that M134's a masochist so treat her badly. Not joking by the way. Those barrels could be on fire, power crystal screaming, misfeeding shells that take chunks off the ramps, it'll still fire."
>Sniggering at something that probably wasn't related to the possibly, maybe, definitely possessed weapon behind you. Anonymous turns serious once more.
"Of course it'd be a damned egghead. Not like the first one was any smarter either. Make sure to warn ponies not to touch any artifact. We don't need them being harmed, on real thin ice as it is."

>>351474
"Biology and culture. Humans are almost exactly half and half divided between male and female. Mostly."
>Shivering once, Anon tips the bottle back to drain it, tossing the glass overhead back into his portal.
"I can't understand him and try not to. All I know is she's tried to get into bed with all the women here and at least ten men. Emerald had to borrow a rope and drag her out of the Command Center last week. They don't want to so much as touch her in case that pisses Hodch off."
>Eyebrows raising under the mask, he shrugs abjectly.
"If enough humans learn how to shape crystalline materials then I'll make a study guide. Won't take me more than a few seconds, at worst."
>Cracking a grin, the gestalt raises two fingers, waggling them in some sort of insult.
"She made her choices. I don't get the fake hate but I'm sure there's a logical explanation. Maybe."
>Retrieving another bottle, this time a fancily decorated one filled with water, Anon chuckles in slight worry.
"Yeah, no, I've seen most the shit Tallus leaders keep locked in their desks, closets, or wherever I find them. Silver was an absolute freak, dunno what happened to her but I'm glad she's dead or whatever. You oughta see pictures of all the weird shit humans run into around the Moors or Ferron lands. That new girl for example is currently freaking out in the Mess, one of the guys is showing her the tamest ones. I don't think she's going to make Veteran without a tentacle or two giving her a mild caress. But, if you want an Eldritch horror that isn't going to kill you, or do more than exist, Carl the Useless is in the big cardboard box on the southwest side. Kraut made it. Tossed a vegetarian burrito into the magitek oven, out pops that.. thing."
>Nodding succinctly, Anon pops the cork out, swishing the bottle around.
"Flash is always searching for rare and arcane materials. Problem is she's got the most extreme case of agoraphobia possible. Last time I came across her in Spiral's Lab was delivering a book to someone, she was in a cold sweat working on a busted phone. I bet if you give her something special she'll open up. Watch out though, one of the guys found her hitting on some unicorns from one of Luna's Villages."
>Scrolling the map down to show a recent arrival in the Library, the free hand reaches up to rub his forehead while he sighs.
"That's just it. I'm a gestalt, sure I can pause causality for a bit to make a delivery but I can't force a human to do anything they don't want to. Most of them like where they wind up, so how can I morally convince them to leave? There's nothing I can do unless they specifically want to travel with me. Not only that most places are hundreds of miles from a translocation matrice, and a few.. aren't right. Like this one-"
>Bringing up the image of a relatively Germaneighan looking man, brown hair, blue eyes, and rather young, blank faced in the middle of a dark forest.
"Was like that for ten minutes, couldn't snap him out of it. Almost like some of them are experiencing.. transuniversal shock? I don't know. The gal that showed up here isn't too bad off in comparison."
>Raising the smartphone up and sighing again, Anon lifts the water bottle for a close inspection.
"More are arriving with debilitating effects that I have no means to stop. With the Era Lock fucked as it is I don't have a single idea what to do."
Bren's Cabin: The Dead Do Not Sleep
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351921
>>351907
>Blueberry you think, and the milk.. ..mare.
>Swishing it a bit more, yep, that was definitely maremilk.
>Earth pony judging by the hearty tone and amount of sweeter tasting fats.

>The ghost mare beams a smile, front legs lifting to cross her chest with a proud nod.
"Way better! One of the worst effects was a Crystal pony would lose their crystalness, and I saw a filly that lost her facet gleams, she looked like a mirror all the way around! It was absolutely horrifying."
>Sitting back completely straight ghost-spined, Lime Ruby listens in, head tilted.
>Eyebrows furrowed at the first question, she returns to a normal equine sitting pose.
"Matter of fact.. quite a bit to all three. Used to be a lot of deliveries to Northern Equestria right on a chunk of land shared by the Dragonspine Mountains and the northern Gryphon Kingdoms. I think the Elder Dragon Council traded that territory to the Kingdoms. Not entirely sure on that, but I do remember the trade agreemarent. Interest in mining there dropped due to how far away it is. That's where the current URA is now."
>Making a short, hollow popping noise, the dead Crystal mare takes on an irate look.
"Before the Sun-Moor War a nasty little Construct incursion force landed in that chunk of land. Two thousand models dropped by a hundred Assault Landers that kept on station for weapon support. Ten of the early Argus Command units were leading the bunch. Lot of earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns were killed. Must've been at least five thousand ponies living there year round. Gryphons and Dragon Vigilants were half a day from reaching there. That's probably what started their whole breakaway."
>Lifting the right hoof to poke her chin, Lime Ruby's eyes glitter in thought.
"Back in the Conclave era most Crystal Knights knew how to take Constructs apart for some special objects. If you found a Construct mare unit and removed a weapon, without damaging it much, you might be able to get it to work for you. Then again that only worked about half the time. Of course you'd have to remove enough of your armor to fit it, but they were pretty powerful! And pretty too. Not as good as Harpy weapons of course, but those were extremely hard to keep repaired. Also some really daring Knights would replace a missing eye with a Construct eye, but they always complained about seeing weird colors and outlines. If you find an intact Construct, check to see if it's a mare or stallion. Mares are almost always models with long ranged weapons, stallions use close combat weapons and shields. Hybrid or prototype models are much harder to tell, you'd need a pony with excellent Crystal Rune skills to tell them apart. Anyhow, the whole process is called symbiosis, or The-One-That-Desires-To-Become-Two. Never really cared much about that stuff, I was too busy playing dead!"
>Snickering at her own joke, the Crystal ghost taps her forehooves together, taking on a severe expression.
"United Regions Alliance leaders probably experimarented a lot with Construct hulls and parts. Eventually they'd have to have a few successes, parts were scattered everywhere. Back then most ponies didn't know they were supposed to destroy Construct blood. There's a damned good reason for that: if the blood from different models makes contact it'll collect into a pool and start mutating into a unique model. Those unique ones go crazy and attack anything, other Constructs included. After the Crystal Kingdom formed there was one that looked like a huge frost drake, except it was a quarter the Spire's current height."
"The thing you ran into was definitely a symbiote Construct. They read the individual's body and bits of their ka, then modify their form to make themselves fit the one they bonded to. Then again if it tried to bond to several ponies that explains how weird it looked. The only Constructs that aren't round or oval are some odd ones made of silverine, but they're.. sort of harmless. Those ones only started appearing during the Early Dynasty. They'd find an injured pony and heal or fit them with a symbiote. Problem is that you absolutely cannot give a symbiote to a pony that isn't conscious, drives them insane."
"The body though.. that's a tough one. Normally a multiple or wild bonded mass shapes themself into a local creature, one that they could use. About twenty, maybe thirty years ago a huge bunch of Ferron pegasi attacked Tempest Isle and destroyed the messed up Construct dragon that took over the place after destroying thousands of round Constructs. According to a Consortium trader I like working for, it had four tentacles, ones big enough to slap an entire squadrun out of the sky. She said the Ferron lost almost two thousand of their own."
>Shuddering at the thought, Lime cocks her head to the left.
"I don't know much of anything on the URA's fall, only that the northern Gryphon Kingdoms attacked somewhere and won big. That's been a long time ago and I can't remember exact years well. If the URA has come back from that loss then.. you might want to send a letter to the Tanisvine Conclave, or something like that. They're the only one big enough to still build anti-Construct armor and weapons. Unfortunately nearly everything the Harpies made is either degraded or nonfunctional. And I don't mean Tallus Harpies, I mean the Otherworldly, Planar, and Extra-Planar species. Their technologies were all metal and arcane stuff. Ponies didn't like them at all, they had no soul."
>Not making a joke this time, the deceased mare gives you a flat look.
"No funny pun this time. Their ships, weapons, armors, all of them talked. They weren't alive at all. Creeps me out thinking about them."
Clemency
!UbatCJ0.6s
6b058ed
?
No.351926
351943
>>351626
>Even as Clemency was hurrying towards the translocation stone, he couldn't help but notice the Princess Luna imposter with the funny hat and a Primal Psion
>A familiar looking one with a nasty glare
>No time to exchange pleasantries though, a QRF needs to be mustered

>Looking around the Fortress, Clemency first head towards the Lunar unicorn
>He gives her a reassuring and appreciative nod before heading straight for the Armory
"Thank you. Now let's see who's up."
>Listening over the local radio, several squad leads pipe up
>However, the readiness status of these squads is really concerning
>He even sworn he heard multiple thumps on the radio, as if they are running into walls or doors
>With a sigh, Clemency broadcasts into the radio
*"All QRF forces, this is Clemency. Get your together and move! I need LMG teams, RPG teams, everything for the Tainted masses!"*
>Going into the Armory, Clemency first scavenges around for a sling he can jury rig onto his new shotgun
>Second, he rummages through the lockers to find the M32 and as much 40mm he can stuff into his bags
>And third, he tries to find the minigun and its mount and the accompanying ammo boxes
>The third task distinctly reminds him of his injured shoulder which he definitely needs to get looked at
>He resigned to getting the minigun, its ammo and parts, out of the Armory and place them in front of the Armory
>Hopefully, the squads will take a hint and take it with them
*"QRF Squads, get the Panhard out there too! The Moors defenses should have a gap for all of us to fill and the Panhard can be used to harass the Tainted! Now, get out there and help one of our full allies or I'll let the General loose on you all!"*

[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Basic Intimidation (Rookie Wrangling)
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]

>As he was looking around the Fortress, hopefully buzzing with activity, he realizes that the shoulder doesn't need to be looked at anyway
>He wouldn't need it much if he was going to fly
>Remembering where the helicopter was, Clem heads towards the Workshop and then into the Hangar
>"It's been a loooooong, long time since I flew a machine. Let's see if I still got it..."
>Spotting the Kiowa and its...unique exterior, Clem runs a full flight check on the machine, seeing what armaments is already installed
>Once satisfied, he hops into the pilot's seat and starts to figure out how to actually start and fly this thing

[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Adept Fighter Jet Aviator
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <Pupil Single Engine Propeller Aviator
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
Sand Cutter
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351932
352026
>>351840
"May Unceasing Dead ever be sundered where they taint the lands."
>Holding her breath at Ri'Vahz speaks, the red mare lets it out, head bending down as her ears flatten in a cultish pose.
"Best that he rema.. stay himself with care. Few come away from taint unchanged."
>Acknowledging the diplomatic touch with a nod, Sand's lips curl down, eyes rotating up in a slight grimace.
"If the earth wills I shall deliver my words. I felt I was to be sent elsewhere yet my course has.. strange twists."
>Blinking at the exclamation, the mare suppresses a snicker and bites into the bowl again, sensing no need for etiquette.
>Relishing the unusual tastes and textures, she makes a small ear flick of acceptance, swallowing with some difficulty before speaking amusedly.
"You speak earth pony? Was called stone pony long ago, but mare.. weed? No, it is herb of light head and sweet smoke we have little of these hours."
>Lightly grinning at the small pun, Sand dips her head in full respect to the Warlord, then at Budieca, lifting to frown in thought.
"Many and marely blessings upon both. I.. do not know when was last I ate. Hours afore dusk, perhaps."
>Leaning down to bite onto a broccoli chunk, and swallow it whole, Sand Cutter's face creases in a warm, proud smile at Budieca.
"Thirty showed on first night at Old Tower Keep, blessed by Sun and Moon. Granted Tower Guard's finest relics of Dynasty and home they were. All swore to Earthwalk, given divine right by High Generals to enter Forge of Mind and use sacred tools. Afore the Siege our Keep held a hundred fifty humans, two mares each they were granted. Jealous I am not one of such mares aloft.. not in true jest I speak. Humans of Stalliongrad were to hold the Catacombs and Tombs safely. Perchance a human stallion I would have right for should my words be heard."
>Suitably brightened in demarenor, the scarred warmare swishes her tail on the floor enthusiastically.
"A beloved saying of lost Jade Luxure whom favored the Moors I must speak. Her.. words were: a mango at day keeps the batponies at play; a mango at night keeps your tail at flight!"
>Breaking into course giggles, then snorting several times in a row, Sand Cutter slams her hooves down once, eyes shut firmly as she howls in raspy laughter.
>There was context here, but it got lost.

>Barrel heaving as she tries to contain herself, Sand clears her throat half-seriously, then once more to nod, although still grinning.
"A short drift of the Dynasty Eyries she was. Black Iron Eyrie built highest above Stalliongrad eyries it was, called home of all winged. Pegasi homes of stone built beneath, clouds would drift. Shared sky and stone they did aplenty. Regent asked to be she was, took hold yet five years afore Ruling Council's first."
>Taking another munch while Ri'Vahz debates with herself, her eyes flick to Budieca, then down to blink at the feathers.
>Nodding at Budieca, she pauses, then shakes her head at Ri'Vahz.
"Not of same blood as Overking. Distant.. perhaps? Black Iron Gryphon King, Iron King of Bladed Wings, Silverine Queen of Lance speak much of Dynasty fallen. Recorded all they did yet First Archive is little touched. Undead of the Vigilites hold all, copies given upon askance only."
>Nudging the bowl a bit further from her, Sand Cutter takes a slow, deep breath.
"A problem Shared Roses is not save the curses of lips spoken wrong. Safe she kept Equestria from relics of Sun-and-Moon War, destroying, sealing. Using."
>Proffering Ri'Vahz a solemn expression, she tips her head in subdued respect.
"Twenty hooves and one Bit she grew tall, thirty hooves long, two earth mares aloft she held at ease. Royal stripes she carried high, sworn to cloud and sky she did. Know little of early feathers do I."
"Of twenty years an abomination from Planes laid low in Rushya, carried the shards she did to Tree Singer and Moon. Purified Enchains come when Tree Singer and Moon work as paired, divine magics they wrought. Enchains of now.. damaged. No longer pure as same ones Shared Roses holds within ka and body. A great trickster she was called, 'The Little Liar' her honored name by ponies and Gryphons. Pure they were remade, to her ka, bonded. No small illusion they were, like Great Trixie of jest. To see that is unreal as real, to scent and to hear, but not to touch, she had great power of. 'Little Lies' she made, a joy for foals and fledged kin both to see other lands, grand they were. Of the same she did to teach Watch and Keep."
"Old Tower Keep named for Gryphon and pegasi of Dynasty, to hold keep against Unceasing Dead, safe were relics, sacred tools of Mind. Five years afore to my chains, Shared Roses brought eggs, fledge, young, warrior, old, ill, to Keep. Oathed the Tower were to find eyrie and home for all. Four years afore, grand singer of Empire, Bellepheron was tasked by five of Councilierge: build eyrie, home, hearth for all upon Black Mountain. Build he did, unceasing as Dead were, songs he wove of glory settled hearts a city weak."
>Casting a troubled glance into the fire, Sand Cutter's face angrily drawing tight.
"Humans of Razorback set ablaze his works, slew him they did. Lied to they were, by what names I know not. Afore my death I oathed no lie shall hold against Razorback, Shared Roses, Stream Lark.. Linara. Honored kin all yet be."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.351934
352023 352027
>>351898
>>351836

>Pareidolia hisses through his teeth, quietly enough that it was only audible inside his helmet. With a twinge of annoyance, he then states:
"Update log: Possible lead, Tacit."
(If only Command were here to forcibly transplant Razorback out of external nation affairs. Solo Social groundwork detail is hell.)
>His brow furrows in confusion.
(Stream Lark, Linara... then they were all there at Khahlani. Apparently cooperative contacts? Then why were we... conspiracy? Mistaken comms? 'Do not recall...state of mind as being important'. )

>Attention then drawn to the exorbitant list of itemized transactions, his right eye twitches briefly.
>Reaching up and into his backpack, he grasps the carved nightshade petal relic and leaves it on Naliyna's work table.
>He sighs audibly.
"I apologize for that. Nearly at my limit for tolerance on the lack of oversight and command framework for a group of armed human mercenaries that should have been handled under isolationist policies. If I'd arrived here earlier, I could have altered course. Practically a Jamestown without a Smith sustained only by the goodwill of natives..."

(Course of action for information sharing, unclear. Possible precipice. Need to shelve for now. Focus on immediate task first."

>Looking over to Zigri once more.
"You're correct. I am sorry. It's difficult to know who to trust. Even more so when every point of contact a human makes with Tallus is another risk I aim to mitigate. If you all will be present if I return alive from my attempt to extract Spiral, I think I have something to provide in helping set our records straight pertaining to Stream Lark."
>As he finishes his statement, he looks over towards Naliyna and Bubba as well.

(If what I endured was the result of their lack of protocol, then no grounds against my disinterest on matters they roped me into when I lacked the tools to assess it myself. Need to clear the air. But Spiral first. Best asset to keep Tallusians safe from us.)
Razorback Fortress: The Clinic
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351935
352014
>>351778
"It is well past Midnight. Or Midneight, whichever you prefer to say."
>Looking much less furious than she sounded, the carnelian Ward tosses a stack of mane color soaked rags into a plastic bag, turning to you with a displeased expression and jabbing a hoof at either side of you.
"I was awake enough to watch THAT happen and move the earth pony to a safe location, that being under Lejura's operating bed. Since she cannot move she will not know he is there. The only pony alive whom has enough knowledge to create an organic-crystalline matrix capable of permarenent modifications is.."
>Calming herself almost instantly, unlike her aged unicorn dam, the young hybrid thumps a hoof into her snout at your heavily modified, crystalline echoing voice.
"Nevermind. Let it be known that I will not advise the use of Ambrosia unless near fatal injuries have occurred, but it will remain an option nonetheless. The earth stallion has responded excellently to such unorthodox treatment. A number of his smaller wounds were able to close with no ill effects. There are still severe injuries, I have sterilized the remaining deep wounds. You did quite well for him being so close to an elemarental and magical overdose. He retains partial consciousness and will be unable to speak for some time. He is no longer in critical shape at least, but there is a complication: he is an exceptional psion and is thus resisting most treatmarents. And-"
>Sighing with the full force of every medic on Tallus, Nova Flicker drags her eyes open.
"I am not sure, there is no clock here. I have dismissed the two humans from earlier and Her Royal Pain In My Plot Elusine Ametrina is taking another walk. However, there is a unicorn yelling outside, something about a Que-Are-Eff and a Tainted assault in Basin Village."
Razorback Fortress: Command Center
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351937
352010
>>351835
'You are most welcome.'
'get to work you two, these files wont be uplinked on their own!'
'Princess Cadenza is ruler of the Crystal Empire, the first major ally to Razorback. We do not what the Empire's Star refers to. Apologies Enginseer, we are less than 16% completed with our previous task.'

>Bringing up the Auspex unit's screen, it processes the request with remarkable ease.
>Deep within the securely hardened arcane materials, a tiny note of sound plays, like a metallic violin string being touched, yet far more delicate, a visual diagram of you appears on the surface.
>Reading out all of your physical conditions, listed as subnormal or erratic due to biological interference with this planet's entropic fields, several lines of data are displayed:
Equine pheromones, mare, modern pegasi subspecies, detected in neural activity. No corruption/contamination present. No mutation present. No erratic human hormonal levels. Endorphin level increased by 6.1% over norm. You are safe for continued direct contact without exception, Enginseer.
>By the grace of Omnissiah and Poneissiah both, you might be... starting to like a xenos mare. A sanctioned one, at that!

>Spotting more of the defensive structures placed at opportune locations as you walk, a Krieger would be proud
>Not a single pony or human was in sight though, excluding the barrels pointed outwards and up, the distinct chatter of older comm systems from the Command Center picking or receiving as reports are delivered from tower to tower.
>Searching through what should have been full pouches and pockets, if you'd had a full kit, your hand brushes across a small rectangle in the third grenade slot.
>Fishing the object out, it was.. a slim cardboard box covered in small silver hearts.
>Shaking it briefly, there was something heavy inside, a short uplink from the Auspex to your MIU reading: 'Black Candle location confirmed. Anoint the hooves and praise the Poneissiah'.
>Now THAT was a gift!

>Responding in the middle of containers being moved around him, Chisan inhales raspily.
*"Acknowledged Enginseer, we have finished moving the unexpected flora to a safe location. Some of the flowers are slightly allergenic to me. Negative contact, twenty minutes required to complete the tech-forge room under construction, we will be transferring material stocks and.. compressing stone."*
*"...Imperial Rune Knight confirmed. Enginseer, that is a direct ally from the Crystal Empire under the Goddess of Rebirth, do not break her cover. This information is highly sensitive, we may not need to know. Connection.. secure. Report everything and maintain your own leisure. I will investigate and deliver my report after the tech-forge is set up. Confirmed, I have standard interrogation training and protocol engrams to call upon when needed. ...advise on objective?"*
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Arrive, Post #1/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351941
352149 352150 352169
>>351631
>Holding each other's full attention and focusing their will to not lose, Marshmallow Moon and Vestal Gardenia remain stock still.
>Five seconds.
>Ten.
>Fifteen.
>Twenty.
>Twenty five.
>Twenty-nine-
>Luna's great-grandfilly finally blinks multiple times, stung by sweat, unpleasant heat, and not liking what she was looking at.
>At all.

>Sighing aloud, Marshmallow speaks in a brisk, merry young tone with none of the aery qualities pegasi had, instead sounding more unicorn from a low pitched single echo occurring quickly after each word.
"Okay, you win this time!"
>Blinking as well, though keeping her eyes shut, the Support Striker's Founder nods coolly.
"Barely. You wi-"
"Wait a second, how do I know you will be honest? I have never met you before.. though I probably should have."
"I am not like the Empress. She may be my ancestor yet I have little save contempt for her methods, means, ways, debauchery... or her sickening idealism."
"..good enough for me! Continue. Please."
"Condition One: you will immediately take commarend of Razorback Company and permarenently become their Maretriarch. You are the great-grandfilly of the Nightmare, therefore you are most suited for such a position."
>Realization doesn't happen for five seconds, the Lunarborn covering her mouth with the left forehoof, which doesn't stop a half-serious giggle.
"Noooo thank you! I have negative interest in taking commarend of anypony, anyone, or anything. I am a diplomat, and only a diplomat. I do not like the idea of being ti-"
"You. Lost."
>Vestal's fury breathes small ripples of burning green as she speaks, Marshmallow Moon visibly recoiling, the pegasi's face tightening in worry.
"And you will accept MY terms as an honorable mare. Condition Two: you will deliver half a million Bits worth of gems from Razorback and donate them directly to the Tower Guard once per year for four years. That will suffice for the physical damages incurred.
Condition Three: you will order Razorback to cease all hostilities with uncorrupted citizens of Stalliongrad. Stream Lark, Linara, and marely others are not guilty of a single crime.
Condition Four: after Three, you will expose all known corrupted citizens of Stalliongrad. There is more than enough on Pear Blossom and her marketeers to order an honorable writ of execution for them.
Condition Five: track down every single pony that has wronged Razorback. Deal with them in accordance by the Lunar Treaties."
>Leaving the tall pegasus stumbling backwards and reeling in a state of shock, Vestal Gardenia's narrowed eyes slide towards you, her face one of brutally frigid calculation.
"Condition Six: you will sign the 29,998 Treaty of Canterlot, thusly granting all humans that desire citizenship in Equestria the right to do so without an official present, other than yourself. There are nearly two hundred humans honorably serving the Tower Guard in the Catacombs, Tombs, Tunnels, Vaults, Crypts, Reliquaries, and far more. It is a blight and disgrace upon Canterlot that nopony has given Razorback the same rights. Force it down the throats of those half-breed royals if you must. If they resist I shall demarend all honorable ponies of Stalliongrad to aid such an endeavor. When the propre time arrives, of course."

>Dropping to her knees, hard, Marshmallow's face loses every last iota of hope, wings splaying out numbly in existential terror.
>Making a short, curtly formal bow at her entirely defeated opponent, Vestal heavily clops past the pegasi mare's left side to halt a little more than one meter from you, vocally calm though her eyes are the complete opposite.
"The Watch Guard General will take commarend of all forces shortly. She believes the giant Tainted are awaiting their leaders to form properly. I shall not be in contact as I best suited to deploying Support Strikers. After all, I developed the unit. Excuse me."
>Nodding in a slight, entirely neutral motion, the Primal about faces smoothly and takes off in a low-stepping canter.

>>351659
>Eyes twitching behind the emeraldine eyeslits, the Primal gives a slight nod of her helmet.
"Request made. A.. standard Heavy Cruiser has acknowledged. Their mages will be directing a transceiver portal here shortly, weapons are committed and angling."
>Snorting lightly, she lifts her chin at Mercy, still thoroughly unaware of anything wrong.
"Look upon this scene with hope in your heart. A Construct stallion has accepted the rights of duty and destiny to protect her. Whom is she? Whom will she be? What great acts and wonders may she commit? What will she leave for this, our world? That is what it seeks to discover. Not for itself, for her, and only for her. It is a threat to all just as a gentle breeze is a raging storm to the mountains."
>Blinking once, the Spirit Walker's head swivels to offer you, then the General, a clueless frown.
"What?"
"Nothing to worry of, dear one."
>Receiving each piece of news with a small incline of her helmet, the Primal emits a low, merry chuckle.
"Indeed? Tanks, infantry fighting vehicles, or other such heavily armed vehicles could be most useful here given a clear line of sight. The humans of Stalliongrad have several which are most adept at destroying the Unceasing Dead. I dare say there ought to be more of them. Very well, I shall prepare myself.. in a second. Vestal has requested one last unit of Support Strikers. It is unlikely too marely more will arrive."
[1d6 = 1] <Watch Guard General, Primal Psion

>Tilting her head, Mercy's frown is genuine this time
"What is the... concern? I am breathing.. fairly well here. A bit.. damp but it is no.. issue."
"Indeed you are. Breathe deep of this sacred air, young one. Now, go meet with the human stallion at the hostel. He will require your protection."
"..okay?"
>Frazzled at the request, the blind pegasus shrugs her wings heavily, blades nicking across the Construct cannons as she turns about and treads towards the exit.

"Ahh, to have such innocence once more. I would enjoy losing it all over again."
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Arrive, Post #2/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.351943
352014 352133 352169
>>351926
>Giving a prim smile, the unicorn mare lets go of the radio to set it back down on Naliyna's table.
"I felt it would be best to announce from here as music in the Command Center gives me a headache. I shall perhaps see you in the Basin Village again."
>Head tilting to the side respectfully, the Lunarite walks about in a circle back into the open translocation portal.

>Crashes, thuds, wood breaking, humans running into each other, dropped weapons, fumbled magazines, assault packs missing their targets, glass breaking...
>Trying to make a list of the fuckups coming across the radio would require two unicorns, an abacus, and a few dozen crates of Luna's Moonshine.
>Breaking into a standard run towards the Armory's western entrance, you note all of the watchtowers emptying, Operators in every state from tired to dead exhausted pulling themselves, but mostly each other, out.
>Slamming the Armory door open a lucky dozen were inside, throwing lockers open and rapidly stuffing extra ammunition, magazines, and the spare few explosives on hand.
>Not one of them speaks as you snag the Milkor from Bravo Squad locker, tossing every canister grenade for it into your pack and pockets.
>Hauling the barely modified M134 from a stand next to what used to be Charlie Squad's locket, then slinging ten readied belts of ammunition on your shoulder, the weight was substantial enough that you'd have to partially drag it.
>Hauling the heavy bastard from the Armory into the Workshop, your shoulder protests furiously as something snaps back into place.
>Hearing the Panhard start up close by followed by ALL the doors slamming open, multiple squads of Veterans, Mercenaries, and Elites break into a run for the east Armory door down.

>Dropping the M134 and it's ammo belts for someone to take, hopefully with a mount, the entire comm net dies briefly.
>For a second you think the Master Radio might have been killed by the command.
>Then the network restarts with a flurry of angry, terrified, amused, and even a few mildly aroused voices snap wide awake, FNG's, Rookies, and Recruits whipped into making triple time.

>Breaking around the Workshop's south exterior wall and hauling ass up the Hangar stairs, knocking the door in you find the room empty.
>Diving onto the pilot's seat, while flipping on gauges and flicking dials, you recall the dozens of instructional videos, flight tapes, in-cockpit records, and a host of prop-equivalent information gleaned from helo pilots.
>Running down a mental checklist until the screens blink on to show status boards, you note the left pylon fitted with a Hydra 70 rocket pod and a 10-rack of 6th generation Hellfire ATGM's which wouldn't be able to lock targets but did have an impact fuze setting.
>The right pylon was loaded with a pair of fully stocked XM296's registering at maximum weight.
>Snapping through the helpfully labeled startup sequence, a pair of large glowstones in all four corners of the Hangar emit streaks of soft white light while the shell doors begin collapsing inwards to the west.
>Paying attention to the indicators on screen as the turbines kick up and rotors slowly spin, bright red Moon light replaces white, more than enough to see by.

>A memory stops you as the control boards flash green for takeoff: the Pagoda's roof had to be removed when Hollow piloted this thing on Khahlani Island.
Ivan the STALKER
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.351969
>>351913
"Unless you go back in a specific time period, you'd not be able to see them anyway."
>After the... incident at CPP, artefact hunting was definitely easier, after all.
>Staring at Anonymous, Ivan could only hope that he was joking.
"The fuck do you mean by that."
>Shaking his head, he sighed a little.
"In Hodch's defense, none of us were expecting it to fucking go off like a mini Electro."

>Ivan would quietly tune into their conversation, mostly listening.
"Tallus is definitely tamer than the Zone, that's for sure..."
>He'd mumble.
>If it wasn't for the fact that he came from the Zone, he would definitely have been experiencing whiplash from suddenly appearing in a world full of monsters and talking equines.
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.352010
352030
>>351937
(Oh! Omnissiah bless you both Tracker, but you do not have to apologise to me! You have told me plenty as is! Thank you.)
(I am sure Raindrop Raspberry knows what it is. Or Nalinya even, since she's the Quartermaster.)

>Almost a minute to eyeing up the fortifications and appraising them idly.
(I wonder how Primarch Rogal Dorn would modify all this. I should give it some thought when there is free time and perhaps present improved layouts and schematics to the local chain of command! Yes. That sounds exciting, and an excellent expenditure of free time.)
>Slowing down as she focuses a bit more on rummaging through her inventory and bringing up her wrist to look upon the exquisite auspex's screen as it quickly accomplishes its task.
>She blinks a couple of times, arching her brow in interest as she read the report.
>At the same time, her other hand finally caught onto something in her grenade slot...

>Looking down from the Auspex's screen, she tentatively takes out the cardboard box.
>She stops in her tracks and stares at the box. She was expecting something simple with all the Inquisitorial iconography perhaps, but silver hearts?
>It was far cuter than it had right to be!

"Aww~..."
>She looks at the hearts for a moment, a dim melancholy as she wonders:
(Who even thought of putting hearts on it? That's not standard. Adorable though, I'll keep the box...)
>She gave it a shake, then darts a glance back to the Auspex as it notifies her of the contents. She smiles a tad lopsidedly at the word 'Poneissiah', still a little unsure if she can, religiously, accept this moniker, but she nonetheless nodded in approval.

>A regrettably short but heartfelt litany escapes Mallia
<Techna-Lingua> "++Praised is Machine God and exalted are their gifts. May this sacred candle bring us closer to the Light of the Machine God.++"

>With a reverential pause and a melancholic sigh, she puts the box gently back in the pouch she got it from.
>Her gaze rises again, eyes lingering over the Command Bunker as she walked around the barracks building and began to walk past it all towards the workshop. Speaking softly into her comm-bead as she walked.

*"...Copy. I was told by Elusine Ametrine--the Imperial Rune Knight, that if I were to encounter any Stalliongrad humans I was to tell them to go to her and 'start a fight so that they could meet. And to make the fight look real. So she could keep her cover."*
*"Tox-11 suggests to maintain the ruse, Storm Trooper. You'll have to start that fight to get your 'in'..."*

>Then, perhaps with the workshop now in sight, leans a bit to look around and see if she could perhaps see Chisan on her approach, a small frown on her face.
(... Is this when I issue that command code, Andronal...?)
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.352014
352081
>>351935
"Midnight works for me."
>It was a good enough nap, one to keep him energized for a while longer.
"Is Cadence."
>Lont confirmed as he gathered his stripped equipment. He has certainly become quite the walking experiment, and he will definitely pitch her cheeks hard for it. Which pair he hasn't decided yet.
>"What next, am I to grow a horn and hooves in a months time?"
"Next time you can perform with the Ambrosia, at least you are not in danger of growing a set of wings if you mess up the dosage."
>He said wryly, his wing tips twitching.
>Cradling all his stuff in his arms he cocked his head at the complication. He did not know being a Psion would be such a hinderance. The edge of his lip twitched as a thought crossed his mind, if such an 'exceptional Psion' was having trouble, perhaps calling in an even more powerful one could solve the issue. The sooner Tacit was lucid and able to talk the better, and if it means calling in Empress Silver than so be it.
"I think I know who to call -QRF?"
>Taken aback and ending his potential plans the now winged Operator hurriedly goes for the Clinic doors, stops, then turns and gives Nova Flicker a most pleased expression.
"And thank you Nova, your flanks are on par with Cadence's in their softness."
>He gave her a wink and practically leaped out into the open Courtyard of the Fortress.

>>351943
>It was utter chaos.
>Ponies and humans running amok. Some half clothed like Lont (but for different reasons) while others stumbled about with the vigour of the recently awakened, there were two focal points, the Pagoda and up north where the Barracks and Armoury was.
>He heard Jeff's voice in the air and on the radio. This was serious. And at the Basin Village no less.
>Looking down at his gear he realized there was now a major flaw in his gear. His wings flapped in annoyance.
"I hope Krinza or anyone is around to adjust my armour in time."
>It was mainly his Leaf Scale Armour that was the problem, everything else he slung onto his person as he ran towards the workshop.
>The horde of scrambling FNG's, Rookies and ponies was getting denser the closer he approached.
>So without thinking his wings extended and flapped. He nearly stumbled over himself at first as his newly formed limbs threw him off balance.
>But he found if he ran with bounding hops at the right speed and keeping his back straight he was achieving limited air time, hopefully it was enough to soar over the amassing squads of ponies and humans to reach the Workshop.
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] >U.Flight
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.352023
352027
>>351898
>>351934
"Sounds like Tartarus needs a staff overhaul just like we do."
>He put a hand to his chin, rubbing it as he thought to himself.
"A Vortex that is the sole witness to the slaughter that happened at Memorial Village, as well as the fucked up investigation that Pikeman was a part of."
>After a moment of thinking if he should tell them,
"And the Vortex that's responsible for people thinking Hodch snapped for a bit, as well as other disruptions and tomfoolery. She's been a pain in the ass since getting here, and definitely deserved being hit with a rocket."

>Glancing over at Pare, he nodded as he watched him place one of what Bubba figured was an illegal item purchased by Razorback.
"I'll admit, I've been neglectful in getting a properly running staff system on my part, but I'm going to assist in fixing that."
>He didn't exactly know what Jamestown was but figured it was an early failure of settling the Americas.
>Or some continent.
Budieca and Ri'Vahz and Food and Headaches
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.352026
352079
>>351932

"I think Blackbeak is too tired of the undeads' shit to let them change him so easily, not without a fight."
>Ri'Vahz stated confidently, although she did take note to check up on her Enforcer once she was done here.
"I don't know any pony language but when I learn yours you can test to see how good or bad I am when we speak again."
>One of Budieca's ears flicked to her Warlord.
"Careful there if Eolas-Toir heard you say that she would lock you away in your chamber until you were begging to be let out!"
>The Warlord in response gave a confounded look at the other Gryphoness.
"Can ya not, Budieca?"
"Not until you learn to be a proper Warlord."
"Fine. As my first act of being a 'proper Warlord' I command you shut yer beak unless directly addressed by your guest!"
>Commanded Ri'Vahz, Budieca snickered yet did she bow her head.
"As you wish."

"The Stalliongrad humans are truly blessed and held in high esteem to have all of that given to them."
>Said Budieca sounding most impressed, Sand Cutter saw the Gryphoness was most enthralled in this.
"I've heard of a similar proverb said when the last Batponies were here but it was for doctors, they don't like doctors for reason."
>She said in confusion, wings shrugging. And her confusion was compounded as the mare broke into outright laughter, she looked to her Warlord and Ri'Vahz merely shook her head at Budieca.
"No need to worry about her, she needed that."

>Being still a bit confused Ri'Vahz tried to recall all the teachings that had been crammed into her skull up till this point, there was a piece missing that was preventing her on making a connection. Why was Shared Roses making her think so hard! Dammit why?!
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] >Exotic Tallus: Gryphons
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]

"Being here in the Vale for most of my life I only really knew of the Overking, its nice to learn more about our history, and from a pony of all things."
>There was no offence in her words, just utmost interest in carrying on the discussion while her Warlord was developing a migraine. She was now on the floor, same as Sand Cutter, the bowl between them both.
"An honoured Gryphoness. And enchained you say.."
>Now Budieca was the one who had her feathery features furrowed in thought. She knew of one other Gryphon who was Enchained though she was thankfully dead and long gone.
>She gasped.
"The humans of Razorback would never..! O-oh, I see."
>Having jumped up to defend Razorbacks honour Budieca returned to a seated position, wings fluttering loosely at her side.
"Whatever the reason it can't be good to have tricked Razorback into killing Bell-fer-ron and destroying his craftbirdship too. At least I know Swe is innocent of any wrongdoing, right My Warlord?"
>Budieca asked rather pointedly at Ri'Vahz whom was still deep in thought. She did give a small nod however. She continued.
"At least those Honoured Kin are fine for now, is that who you'll seek out when you return to Stalliongrad?"
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352027
352032 352039
>>351934
>Logging and tagging the order 'Shiibo' sends cross-referencing requests to the prototype, a number of small images routed from the Master Radio's open channels are shown one by own.
>Taken by numerous Operators showing a visually indistinct red earth stallion that might as well be a bodybuilder throughout five months, labeled as Tacit, rarely leaving a smaller, bright yellow earth pony labeled as Kend.
>A few of the pictures show Tacit always on Lucky's eye patch side, and when items were being transferred an eye or ear was directly aimed at her, the expression flat rather than goofy.
>From her half 'Tipper' points out the high chance of illusions in use, whether as a psion or through enchantmarents, the standard unit pointing out a well trained infiltration specialist.
>Not quite accepting either side, both do agree to selectively comb through the Master Radio's servers and open traffic.
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Tech-Research
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]

"Didn't say you can't use it, just that if we weren't Lunars then there'd be big problems. Keep it anyways, most of us have no need of it."
>Motioning for you to take the Smoke After Dusk back, Naliyna's expression hardens at three metallic dark purple plates, modular in design, then adding an image of Dante in his armor, coloration nearly the same.
"Like this one, Dante bought them. Regent plates are taken from damaged Regent armor sets to repair original ones in better shape, those that survived the Dynasty. Silver only gave them to royals. Having even a piece of one without being authorized breaks at least three hundred lines in Treaties to and from Stalliongrad. Only Tower Guard and Vigilites are allowed to say who can have them. Lucky stole at least a hundred plates but sold the best ones randomly. Tartarus Island got-"
"Ten? No, eleven."
"Multiple that by three hundred. You can see why we're all on edge."
>Taking a short break from scanning pages, Zigri's eyes swivel up to you in subdued existential pain.
"Can't isolate what's all over. Before we were shoved out of Stallionrad there was something like a hundred twenty humans working for the Tower Guard and Vigilites. They had some of those carts like the blue one in the Workshop, more like bigger armored boxes."
"Armored vehicles you mean? Or tanks?"
"I think.. both. Yeah, both. Five smaller than the blue one, two about the same size, one larger, taller, armored, long tube sticking out a metal bowl on top. Some of the humans have those big shoulder weapons that launched.. what are they?"
"Rockets or missiles. Maybe mortars."
"First two are familiar. Last night there was a human that showed up close to the Isle in a rubber boat right before the storm hit. He's.. fine, I guess? Shaken, confused. Some kind of treasure hunting diver."
>Letting his wings down to rest, the Spirit Hunter stares at your helmet before muttering half-seriously.
"Don't apologize. We're all in a bad mood. The sky is dropping and the last shit any of us needs to do is argue. I'll say this much instead: if Stream Lark or Linara are involved in something let them work. Khahlani was weird, sure, but they obviously didn't set up humans to get killed there, that's not their style at all. That team would've been swarmed by a few hundred veteran Watch or a full Tower Guard retinue. If Sha'Ro wanted to she could show up right now to steal a single rock and there's absolutely nothing anypony or anyone here could do to stop her. She's a freak pacifist unless ordered not to be."

>>352023
>Putting on a somewhat encouraged smile, Zigri's ears flick in brief thought patterns.
"Yeah. We've got two Crystal ponies now, would prefer twenty but most hate hot places like the Isle. I'd prefer more unicorns from the Villages, that's a hard trade for any of them. Retired Starborn refuse us, too much going on right now. Most of the earth ponies we saved are farmers, cooks, chefs, bartenders, maids.. their support is amazing but we need staff."
>Finished scribing another plate, Naliyna sends it to a clear spot in front of Zigri, sitting back to make a slow, thoughtful blink past you.
"Reeeaallly now. No wonder everypony thought Hodch went nuts. Three weeks back one of the marefriends I like from the Villages came here, Snap Candy. She was down in the Library reading, played with Malyne for a while too. Went to the Enclave for some gems, came back and there was two humans shouting at each other in front of my tent. One said she stole a horn ring, other said she wasn't even there. I told them to sort it out with Twisted. She of course chewed them all out. Malyne heard the noise and came out running. You can guess who she was with."
>Rubbing her chin with the favored right hoof, the corners of the trademare's lips twitch in suppressed fury.
"You're right about that. If, and I do mean if, that Vortex thing tells every last nanothread of what happened there I'll... reconsider shoving a bottle of Rime into it's mouth. Or whatever opening it might have."
"Vortex shifters aren't that good compared to. most anything.."
>Looking up from staring at his pock marked hooves, Zigri bites his cheeks several times before flicking the first primary on his right wing.
"Good enough to copy Hodch? He has almost no tells, believe me. That's not the average shifter. Three possibilities I can think of right now. Shuregs, half physical, half.. non-elemental. They can mimic most anything but they're easy to spot. Psions, casters, Crystal ponies would notice them. Dangerous ambushers, good endurance, partially ignore armor. There's Bundlestalks too, incredibly weak, pathetic, absolutely useless in combat. They can turn most threads, natural or not, into a stalk or bundle. Good shapeshifters otherwise. Last one are Ulrens, half-bird zealots that use something like psionicism. They can mask their body or ka, but not both. Excellent infiltrators but once their purpose is done they attack. Pretty vicious but blinded by ego and they're not fast."
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352030
352064
>>352010
'Raindrop is from Stallionrad. that city-state doesnt have any contact with the Crystal Empire. at all. last diplomat the Empire sent was told to leave now or theyd be returned in a tiny stone box. Naliyna might know if shes in a good mood but her memory is spotty due to severe psychological and physical trauma'
>Inspecting the rather bland, not yet camouflage painted watchtowers, the use of thick, heavy tight grained wood, sealed by something you couldn't identify, and overly rigid steel bands was durable enough to last a short term siege, and simple enough to mass produce.
>That is, if there was enough skilled labor and machinery to do so.
'hah, Dorn would have some stiff competition. this fortress used to be Tower Guard fast reaction and quick deploying heavy outpost. prototype. built five and tested 10 years prior. ponies did not like design, too cramped for the number of field tents. decommed all of them and were placed in mountain storage. late 29,995 this one was sent to a larger Village as the first gift for Razorbacks use, took the Lunar Guard 2 months refurbishing it to their specs. after it was placed here a Marquis took over. emplaced 600 repeating/self-loading crossbows throughout exterior walls, bombs placed in vent ports all over, had a heavy shield, climate control, tunnels, power for all buildings, water, much more. unknown how he accessed or controlled it all. Flash presumed several types of local esoteric magic were combined. we only spent half a cycle trying to understand it. the crew boss/taskmaster/master builder here is named Bren, ochre unicorn, rough talker. if you draw up specs send them to her'

>Inspecting the surface briefly, the paint was definitely not mass produced as each side was individually done, although the silver was real.
'witch did. convinced Flash to outsource all small work to ponies in exchange for accounts, records, maps, charts. any historical data. worked out well. Flash figured if the package was cute and innocuous no one would think about what it contained.'
>Overhearing the litany, the Auspex signals a datafeed on how to properly utilize a Black Candle, which turns out to be incredibly simple, if unorthodox.

>Reaching the Workshop's southern sliding vehicle door, it was currently open, interior mostly deserted save for a rather chunky bright yellow earth pony, a mare judging by the rounded curves and merry, older humming tone, sitting at a large sewing desk.
>Except there was no sewing machine, instead several wooden boxes in front of her were spinning silvery threads from large metallic spools into a series of tiny needles floating in the air to create a sheet.

*"Confirmed Tox-11's suggestion as best course of action. Information extremely sensitive Enginseer, consider it classified until further notice from Witch-Two, Tracker, Tox-11, or our Inquisitor. Tech-forge status: walls under construction."*
>Small static crackles in the background indicate some magnetic activity near the Tempestus Scion, along with the sound of metallic scraping.
*"Both equine smiths are.. able to liquify stone, extract minerals, compress remainder of mass into rigid sheets without cooling. Minimal heat, moderate amount of radiant light. Sheets are joined by.. pressure? Plasma? No, not welding. Large energetic expenditures similar to underfed plasma reaction. Highly stable. Estimated time for completion is-"*
>Hearing a young female voice, a mare with an odd accent, Chisan continues.
*"Twenty-five to thirty minutes at optimal progress. My assistance is no longer necessary here, rerouting to you. Enginseer, confirm visual appearance of Imperial Rune Knight?"*
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.352032
352039 352041
>>352027
"Hopefully you'll find some more support."
>He gave a small shrug, glancing over at Naliyna.
"Yeah, so I'm not too apologetic about hitting her center mass with a Void charged cannon. She fucking deserved it, but Peach drilling her for information's probably just as bad."
>He let out a small snort.
"Pain in the ass all around, I'm sure she won't have a shortage of people wanting a bit of payback for some time. Might have to keep it a bit of a secret that she's the reason for some bullshit."
>Bubba's brow furrowed for a bit as Zigri spoke.
"She's a Bundlestalk then, according to what you said. According to her she's got a lot of threads around Razorback that're nearly invisible."

>Glancing over to Pare, he shifted a bit in his seat and put his papers to the side.
"What're you planning on doing to get Spiral back, if I may ask? God knows I'm not going to argue with that being a primary concern as well."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.352039
352041 352077
>>352027
>Silently taking in the images displayed, he motions with his eyes to move them to the side of the screen as he picks up the carved artifact, running a thumb over its surface.
>Face darkening as the extent of political damage is highlighted, he offers a curt:
"Noted."

>Remaining withdrawn after his apology, he unzips his pack and shuffles its weight on his shoulders before slipping Smoke After Dusk back inside.
>While doing so, he checks on his A.I. networking progress.

>>352032
>Passively noting chatter about an unusual Shapeshifter of some kind being captured, he looks towards Bubba as he hears the question.
"A team including Katyal, Lonestar, Hodch, and a Siren Dul who offered me a favor are being assembled."
>He turns his head, leaning back to check where exactly Dul was behind him before gesturing her forward with his right hand.
From what I heard on the radio, Lonestar has successfully acquired a land vehicle to transport us to the isolated ruin. "Apparently Hodch's first expedition and meeting with Spiral were at this exact same Dynasty ruin, 11 miles north-northwest of where Hollow found Changeling Cores in a cave. Rough terrain, stasis field, and something inside capable of preventing Spiral from returning."
>Tapping the side of his helmet, he adjusts a small switch to enable the outward projection system to present photos of the annotated map he had taken while quietly saying to 'Shiibo':
"Display map images."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352041
352077 352094
>>352032
>More incensed than irrated, Zigri stares at the table in the time honored attitude of pure combat staff that think touching paper is for the weak or lazy.
>And nerds.
"I already hate the thought of setting up interviews. Once the last mission is done on the Isle I'm recalling everypony that's not on contract."
"Same thing I'm planning.. at least for tomorrow night. I'll let you and Peach Drop hoofle the damn thing."
>Tipping a wing up to rub his snout, Zigri's eyes travel right to Naliyna in mischief.
"How marely hours does it owe Razorback?"
"A thousand. If I feel nice."
"Then don't kill it. You need an assistant, right?"
"Maybe."
"Give it a chance then. What's the worst it can do, look like Roust on a diet?"
"That'll never happen."
>Stretching both wings out to eye you with a lackadaisal grin, the Spirit Hunter's ears swivel forwards.
"If it was one of the other two that'd be concerning to me. Bundlestalk isn't the real name of their species, it's.. hard to pronounce right. Or at all. Planars are notoriously difficult to address 'properly'. Never dealt with one myself but some of the Blades are specialized to deal with Vortex nonsense. Unless those threads are connected to the original body and fine tuned for use they shouldn't be a problem. Might be able to kick one apart if you put enough force into a blow."

>>352039
>Clearing the images off and tagging them for archival, 'Shiibo' opens a progress bar over the internal avatar, reading 89%.

>Pausing from another plate being enscribed, Naliyna's ears splay in pained motions, her expression softening.
"I'm really sorry if anything I said hurt you. Twenty minutes ago I had no idea any of this was hanging over our heads. Even if I knew something was wrong I'd still have to record every page and go through it all."
>Leaning forwards and reaching out to tap the Crystal mare's left shoulder, Zigri gives her a hearty smile.
"Gryphons, minotaurs, Moon, Rebirth haven't come after us. Besides, that Smoke After Dusk is nothing compared to having one of the Gryphon Overking's claws or a Daykiller around."
"Uhhh..."
"...nevermind. Let's not give them a reason to bring us in front of some Judges. Two minds are better than one, right?"
"I.. guess. This would be a lot easier if I had some damned idea who was keeping what from landing on our heads. Or why."
"Not important right now. Find leads first, then buck heads in."
>Whistling in a disgruntled tone and flicking pages up to be scanned once more, Zigri's attention is drawn up, then down at the hololith.
"Idea. Tag all relics, artifacts, sacred objects according to faction. Set each date they went missing. Match those to when Lucky sold all the banned or restricted ones to us and Razorback. Lucky can't have stolen all this shit with only the Rogues helping out, most thieves are cowards that only work in groups. You find the time frame between thefts and sales, there's a good chance of locating witnesses. And that's one on the list, too."
"All right, not like I can think of anything better-"
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <E.Crystal Engineering
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
The GM L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.352046
Permafrost Hookblade By Wyzar.png

Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.352064
352076
>>352030
(Sounds reasonably sophisticated. Doesn't sound like it has much Anti-Air based defense, unless the crossbows count as anti-air.)
(... Also, "Had"? Does it not presently have any of that? Why the past tense?)

>Reading out the datafeed fed by the Auspex, she spends at least 2 nanocycles giving it attention.
>Go somewhere safe, sit down, think of what you want, light the candle, and pray... Easy enough.
(Ponies also give you things if you give them work?)
>The thought elicits a brief shift of her eyes, doubting her own question...

>Then is quickly distracted as she begins to slow down a tad once she reached the Workshop and stepped into view of the interior, stepping up to the sliding door and peeking in her head to watch the humming earth mare's work with interest.
>She speaks quietly into the comm-bead while her eyes glinted with child-like curiosity, unable to tear her eyes away.

>A distant, very mechanics part of her urged her to pout a little at the rather uncertain estimate from Chisan. Finally shifting her eyes away from the yellow earth pony to look around and check around for Chisan from where she was.
>And after a second, turns about, taking a few sauntering steps as she speaks softly, glancing around as she goes. Namely, she looks for the stairs leading up into the 'neat room with tools' Raindrop had mentioned, that should have been nearby on the south side.
*"Bright aquamarine-coloured body, mane and tail of a similar shade but a bit darker, more blue-green. Neon lime eyes."*
*"Noticeable features are: A large number of burn scars on the body. Disposition is notably unfriendly to basically everyone, scowl is somewhat distinct."*
*"Last known position was: Heading north from the clinic. Taking a walk, supposedly."*

*"Also!"*
>Mallia taps her heels as she stops and starts rubbing her gloved hands with slightly contained excitement.
*"I am outside the workshop now, Stormtrooper."*
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop, Exterior
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352076
352131
>>352064
'crossbows had 65 degree vertical traversal, other air defenses were under construction. no data on replacement options. heavy shield sufficed as a countermeasure forcing aerial targets to ground. fortress wide systems sustained critical damage due to overload electrical pulse-emp effect from mutated native megafauna during previous year. replacement of original power crystal not possible, that model has been out of production >60 years. Marquis was able to power the remainder himself. current energy expenditure capability: >4% of original specifications'
'Equivalent trade is preferred above all else to local equines, Mallia. The transfer of currency is merely a quicker, less nuanced bartering system compared to haggling directly with goods, services, mating/harvest/mining rights. Bartering itself is considered an enjoyable activity; there is honor in dealing with an excellent tradesmare that barters down to near the actual cost of production or value of a right.'
'witch, enough. dont ask her for more details. she wrote a 500 page triple printed essay last month, Flash added 600 more from her own notes'
'You requested specifics and I did not n'
'i didnt need that much! basic regional data on Ferron allies > a governors course on full scale economics of how much a common mango is worth in the Hegemony! Enginseer, short version: outsourcing work or rights in honest near-equal exchanges creates binding trust. in other words use, dont abuse'
'You cou'
>Taking their bickering to another frequency, the mare was utterly focused on producing a woman's undershirt, watching the tiny needles rapidly slip between and through fine threads with little more than directional input.
>Swaying while the item is woven into existence, still humming, it occurs to you that few psykers had such delicate control over non-mechanized objects; the process might be similar to how Lathe-Magos controlled electromagnetic molecular assemblers in orbital zero-gravity forges.
>Save for the seamstress, there weren't any living beings in the Workshop itself... that you could tell.

>Having passed by a set of stairs leading up to a second floor, a small plaque with what looked like an ancient ornithopter had the word 'Hangar' below it, and an arrow pointing upwards.
*"Affirmative on appearance. ...there are no other Crystal ponies on base at this time, possibly in Mess Hall, at orchard, or Pred-Elk Outpost. Currently under Workshop. Tunnel system meant for local equines performing repairs, not humans."*
>A familiar scrape of carapace on stone is accompanied by Chisan's minorly amused tone.
*"Highly cramped. Zero question why Inquisitor enjoys being down here."*
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.352077
352094 352108
>>352039
"Alright, that's a decent team to go with. Hopefully you manage to drag his ass back here."
>Bubba nodded, looking over the map that Pare projected out, taking his time to memorize it.
"Got it. I'll copy this down later on paper, in case we need to send another team for retrieval."
>Bubba would silently hope that would be unnecessary.

>>352041
"Yeah, you and me both. Interviews fucking suck."
>He let out a snort.
"You say that but I hit her fucking center mass with an explosive, Void powered cannon round, she still managed to stay more or less intact."
>He would be more impressed if it wasn't for Tawi's previous actions.
Sand Cutter
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352079
352148
>>352026
"Blessed he is to be unchanged then."
>Speaking a short, smoothly half-rumbling phrase in her native language, Sand's eyes flit from Ri'Vahz to Budieca to check their reaction.
"'Common is hard to speak'. Too marely entendres, hidden meanings. Earth pony is blunt, little hidden."
>Bending down to give hearty bites into the food in an effort to cease her stomach's grumbles, the scarred mare's snout crinkles at the good natured bickering.

>Content to tip the bowl back and quickly munch what little remained, Sand Cutter sets it down between her legs, expression brightening again as she nods.
"Tower and Vigilites keep them safe from politics, intrigue. In turn humans lay final rest to marely Unceasing Dead, day and night. Sun and Moon spoke of Otherworlders as able to do such of their own power, no enchantmarents, relic weapons needed. When Stalliongrad's undercity be open again, honored homes they shall have for service."
>Head swiveling to offer Budieca an honored, partial bow from her comfortable position, grinning at her own poor translation.
"Meaning: at day batponies play, sleep, eat, be with friends, like Crystal pony. At night an earth mare holds aloft a mango, running to be chased and.. is lewded when caught, like Lunar pegasi. Earth mare knows game of day and night, enjoys both. Two sides of fun the batponies are. Tower believes them sacred. Marely agree."

>Digging into the oldest lessons, offclaw information, and various myths from the time the Gryphon Kingdoms watched the Dynasty collapse, it was recorded that twenty or more royal Gryphon lineages had joined during the Middle Dynasty Era.
>The records of Gryphon High Kings and Queens during the Middle Dynasty were given command, or commarend, of what were called eyrie-cities, placed within a quarter day's flight of laboratories and the larger city-states.
>Titled as Regents and awarded armor for the same, four were distantly related to the lineage that led to the current Overking.
>Two were noted for having red, green, and yellow plumage that continued the line intact, both favored by an earth pony princess, descended from the Empress by several generations, as part of the Rose overherd that came from a region which would become known as Old Canterlot.
>That same portion of the Rose overherd would later rejoin Princess Celestia before the Late Dynasty Era began, keeping a Gryphon's claws as part of their family crest to the modern day.
>One of the Gryphon royal lineages was presumed lost during a Dusk Strider tunnel collapse on their route to Manehattan, one left for the Hegemony, currently still serving the Unitarchy, the third rejoined the Gryphon Kingdoms, whom may have abdicated their titles due to disgust over Empress Silver's actions and their 'aid' in certain experimarents that destroyed several research labs.
>The remaining one, approximately twenty in all, convinced numerous smaller eyries to join them and a large city-state's worth of earth ponies, along with several pegasi cloud-cities, leaving south towards the east of Rushyan lands.
>In the region they intended to settle, a vast, ruined city of Undead, mostly filled with pre-modern ponies, minotaurs, and mixed others in unusual black iron armor, had long been known by the older Gryphon Kingdoms whom would send entire flights to ensure the lower regions were not overrun.
>Flights that haven't been needed for over 1,200 years.

>Lips making a wavy S-shape at the Warlord's pain, Sand starts to reach out for her with a hoof, pausing to smile at Budieca.
"Stalliongrad has many and marely archives, allowed to learn of all we were. Psions and earth sorcerors would show scenes of past centuries. Were it safe I would ask a copy of each be gifted here."
>Grim faced at Budieca understanding the subterfuge, the red mare's ears flatten as she nods sharply.
"Yes. Hundreds did Shared Roses take to Old Keep, return them Tower Guard will when told of homes safe lands here. I know not why Shared Roses remains unspoken. Perhaps.."
>Leaning back to think, less painfully than Ri'Vahz was experiencing, Sand Cutter's neck muscles flex under her coat.
"A reason I have found: the cursed black pegasus. She is whom Shared Roses has chased for years, unspeaking to Tower Guard. Thefts of relics and artifacts across lands brought her fury. To be unused some must, others sacred to be left untouched. Her life, time, pain spent to seal or guard history, lost and disgraced it was by Lucky."
>Peering at Ri'Vahz, the earth mare taps a front hoof politely to get her attention.
"War Lord, travel I must to Razorback."
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352081
352084
>>352014
"I would not know the difference, and I am not fond of her experimarents since this one is going to make my work much harder."
>Merely shaking her head at the ceiling with a painfully amused look, Nova Flicker lifts a hoof in farewell at you before the door closes.

>The procession of at least a hundred forty humans, accompaneighed by the few combat focused marefriends, and 'marefriends' too, storming to the Workshop and Armory was breathtaking.
>At least it would be if half of the FNG's, Rookies, and Recruits weren't such slackers.
>Most of the known squad leaders were forced to half-drag someone trying to pull clothing and armor on, the rest issuing orders for every magazine to be loaded and brought.

>Initially testing out the new, sore, and highly protesting biocrystalline muscles spread across your back, both shoulderblades had been replaced by high tensile yet flat, flexible pseudo-bones, and were definitely not ready.
>This promised to hurt.
>A lot.
>Taking the first few broad stroke flaps at a run, you grimace at the sensations of completely underused, overextending pain lodged in the almost but not quite everything.
>Reaching a high enough jump, broad crystalline feathers catch the air with a strong, misery-filled wing stroke, then further ones to climb.
>Like riding a motorcycle, except every movement was suffering!
>Keeping stable enough to remain three meters off the ground and fully avoiding those racing from the watchtowers, the distance from Clinic to Workshop was less than a fifth what you'd normally jog.
>There was only one problem you could see as the vehicle doors and hangar above start to open: landing.
Anonymous
9fedfaf
?
No.352082
Archaic Hegemony Battle-Vow.png

The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.352084
352105
>>352081

>Any thought Lont had about the situation unfolding such as; was this all of Razorback? What was happening in the Basin to warrant full mobilization? Was the Fortress under threat? If Jeff was there were their other veteran Operators there too? Would Razorback and Co be enough? And most importantly were the Batponies and mangoes safe?
>No, none of that. His mind was blank. Instead Lont clenched his teeth in pain and hissed out expletives like a salty Sailor General back home.
>Every twitch of new muscle moving newly formed bone felt so wrong and alien. He felt the beginning of a migraine as his brain tried to figure out how to properly use two new limbs human's were not even supposed to have in the first place!
"Hope..Grow..No..Horn.."
>He muttered to himself while he soared low over the throng of humans and ponies. It worked however, he had made time this way rather than running and navigating through the preparing mass of soldiers underneath him.
>Yet this pain almost made him regret this decision. But he knew if these were permanent he had better start learning how to fly sooner rather than later, and better here than in the middle of the Basin Village when he would be fighting who-knew-what. Better feel shame here than die later.

>He was definitely going to enquire about some sort of training or regime on how to fly, and more importantly, land.
>Speaking of which! His eyes widened as he approached the Workshop, if he didn't slow himself down he would either slam face first into the buildings wall breaking bones and his new wings or straight up dying.
>It was going to compound his pain and make his head hurt even more however he needed to do this.
>Lont concentrated hard to make his wings slow his speed, slow enough that he could at most stumble to a stop safely..
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] U.Flight (Landing???)

[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] >M.Reaction Speed +A.V
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.352094
352108 352113
>>352077
>>352041
>Tapping his helmet, he offers a nod to Bubba while shutting off the projector.
"One can hope. I'm not... optimistic about his status after over 3 months."

>Looking towards Naliyna, he shakes his head.
"You've done nothing wrong. If I could now, I'd assist you in paperwork. If I make it back, I will. Likely better performance than a Planar thread creature not adapted to Tallus. Clearly Razorback's lack of infrastructure and organization will be the death of it if something isn't done."

>Leaving the trio to continue their work, he departs for the Neighsian's tent across the courtyard.
>His face twists with a mixture of pity and disgust as he sees Lonestar in the distance... lovingly carressing the hull of his newly acquired vehicle.
"Trying to control local exposure to that is... going to be difficult. Even with you Shiibo and 'Tipper' on Support. Overall situation constantly moving beyond out control."
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352105
352120
>>352084
>Straining to keep both of your crystalline wings in sync with each other, and controlling the utterly normal four limbs, the headache increases at a slow rate.
>Morale: 28/30
>Clearing over the stragglers south and rapidly approaching the angle of direct contact, the only possibility you could think of was to glide.
>Rotating your muscles, mostly the the biocrystalline ones, forwards to angle both wings upwards, using the wholly never-before-felt and never before used sense of air gliding across feathers, which weren't normal to you, and crystalline skin, which was probably how Shells felt while moving... no, nothing was the same in the slightest!
>Morale: 27/30
>Finding the mostly correct downwards angles to slow your descent into a glide, albeit side to side at with a skewed sense of vertigo from being in the air, you prepare to start running before the first boot touches ground 20M from the Workshop.
>A split second after contact you catch balance on both feet, braking from momentum that you actually knew.

>Mostly ignored by the humans and ponies streaming into the Workshop from every angle, the most you get is a few awkward glances, several thumbs up from Veterans, and a critically dismayed stare by a Lunar pegasus from one of Luna's Villages.
>That is until Krinza steps through the crowd, a massive green lance wrapped in yellow above his head.
>Turning left and taking exactly 1.25 steps, the chunky unicorn stops.
>Stares.
>Blinks.
>Stares again.
>Then continues walking, offering a helpful side commarent as he passes by, halting at a reasonably safe distance to avoid the weapon from smacking into anyone or anypony.
"The best I can offer right now is a quick removal enough rear armor to allow both of those to fit properly."
>Struggling not to laugh, the grandmaster smith settles for a wide grin.
"As I do not have much time it may chafe a Bit. Or twenty."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352108
352113 352114
Project OL-3.jpg
>>352077
>Zigri's face tightens in disgust at the idea, half-focused in recall.
"Last time Shanis and me sat through two hundred interviews on ponies we cleared from of Las Pegasus. We didn't need a hundred extra cooks and chefs, forty barmares, twenty couriers, ten mailmares.."
>Ears flattening, he strains to speak the next sentence while trying to not die inside.
"Or thirty more prostitutes. During the evacuation Shanis brought two brothels with us onto the Isle and.. and now they're all working in the Moors."
>It was at this point his willpower fails, ten thousand long ignored, lewd come-ons from earth mares burrow into his soul and deliver the killing blow, that last spark of hope he once had to live a reasonably normal existence is wiped out.
>Side eyeing the young stallion with a mixture of empathy and disgust, Naliyna takes over the Spirit Hunter's duties with a sharp toned hum, lifting four pages at a time for the hololith to record while reaching over to nudge his side with her left forehoof.
"You need a break. Go on, I've got this."
>Autopegasus mode on, the Spirit Hunt nods dejectedly, sliding off the couch to land heavily and walks around the right side, exiting south.
>And walks snout first into the crystal box.

"Reminder to self: only ask about the Isle for friendly matters or actual business, just never.. that type of business."
>Favoring you with a more serious shift in her posture, Naliyna lifts her shoulders morbidly while taking an image of the displayed map.
"Okay, somewhat resistant but a low physical threat otherwise, I'll keep that in mind. Regardless, you have any leads I can, or should, use right now or do I keep doing what I'm doing?"

>>352094
So long as I'm in the right state of mind this is pretty easy, and I'm not quite serious about taking on an assistant, especially not one that pissed most of us off.
>Waving eight papers at a time in front of her hololith, an even rarer even of strict self-control, Naliyna lifts her chin past you.
"I can deal with most of the fallout here, there's a few hundred Conclave and Kingdom Knights that'll show up if I twitch the wrong way. Spiral takes full priority, but that's not an order from me to you. When you find that bunch of elemarentals, tell them this much: we weren't depending on him. He's the best friend all of us outcasts, damaged goods, and noonies, we've had the honor of meeting. And if he resists-"
>Switching to a brief hum, a tiny dull blue tinged sphere the size of a large marble, darker than a coldstone operating at maximum capacity, is dragged out from under her cushion to hover in front of you.
"That's the first project I finished, was done the third or fourth night he didn't answer back. It's called a Rime Lattice, the Conclaves coated their armors to keep themselves safe from Construct weapons with them. He kept saying his old glyphs weren't able to dissipate enough heat, and he didn't the mean temperature or hormonal type. Be safe, and if you need anything more radio me."

>Pocketing the item, 'Shiibo' was in the process of studying the western analogue's advanced IFV with increasing dismay, though 'Tipper' was concerned rather than worried.
"Based on Zigri's words and referencing how the average pony in Stalliongad thinks, that is a definite lost case since humans are being relied on for stability and protection from Undead. Given the current forces of Stalliongrad defending... their humans, I predict a 1.3% chance of successfully removing contamination vectors. The eras of most Russian or similar analogue humans here are World War One to late Cold War era equivalents. Otherwise, there is zero data on what they might have access to."
'1.3%? That's it?'
"Let me show you the current models I have of pitting a single standard earth pony psion against a standard Guard. Apologies sir, I haven't shown her any of my simulations yet."
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <Tech-Use
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]

>Reaching Lonestar patting down every external panel on the IFV, he tears away from it to point up at the paired overhead weapons.
"How's she look! Biggest damn thang I could think of even if she's two an'a half tons lighter than the special ops version! Now all I gotta do is set my codes, lock down the relays, get the'last master relay unit installed, an'toss some'a our new MRE's in!"
>The prototype unit sighs aloud across the network, 'Shiibo' giving the transmission interface a questioning glance.
"Trust me, you don't want to know."

>Reaching the trade tent, both lanterns floating above the entrance flap uncoil themselves into Asiatic dragons, each with a shiny, oiled mustache and rolling feathers atop scales.
>Left carrying a scroll, right a feather pen, they bow as you step inside the entryway.
>Noting another flap leading inside, it was considerably brighter, and as you step in there were another thirty, possible more lanterns hanging inside a safe distance from the cloth walls.
>Stacks of bright white pony sized futons were everywhere, save for a bamboo table 3M from the entrance laden with dark grained wood boxes, and a larger than king sized futon in the back.
>Sitting up straight was a tall, skinny mare that was definitely a genetic drift from earth ponies, the sable blue coat and black mane in a bun contrasted by curious orange eyes.
>Pointing a hoof at the table, a bright green sphere swirls as she speaks, an absolutely old translating enchantmarent you notice, her inflections a near-perfect match for pre-current Japanese.
"Welcome human! Rasera I am name, trade of futons and trinkets from Neighsia. Also call Japoneighsia by Equestria ponies. Have look!"

>'Shiibo' slowly facepalms in existential agony.
'You didn't say this would happen.'
"I was getting around to it. Besides, there's only so much I can transmit at a time."
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.352113
352119
>>352094
"Who knows, he could just be a bit mentally unhinged after three months."
>Giving Pare a parting nod, Bubba would find some blank paper to jot down the basic directions to where he would be going, deciding to properly copy down the map once he was able to focus on it properly.

>>352108
>Ignoring the obvious impact of pegasnoot on box, Bubba would focus back on Naliyna.
"Friendly matters might give them the wrong hint that we want that type of business. Better make sure to be very specific."
>Glancing behind him to see if Zigri was alive, Bubba let out a sigh..
"Right now? Continue what you're doing, its all we can do until I gather enough of the old heads to discuss our options."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.352114
352122
>>352108
>Pareidolia gently raises his glove up under the orb to rest it on his palm.
"I'll make every effort to bring him back. Thank you for providing this. And understood."
(Incorrect, we absolutely were dependent on him. But if that is her advice, it may not be what he needs to hear to convince a return.)

>Walking towards the vehicle's hull, he responds to his support intelligences.
"Assessment on Stalliongrad likely correct, though success chance will be lower once you parse 'Tipper's simulations. Will need to set that group of humans to a long term priority for now. Other options of constant monitoring, inserting sympathetic humans slash ponies, will need to be considered. At current, even general assessment of their status is impossible given diplomatic tensions."

>Looking up as Lonestar ecstatically gestures at the pair of cannon barrels protruding from the front of the vehicle, Pareidolia nods twice in approval.
(Non-adaptable risk, human technology, but still nostalgic.)
"Impressive. Reminiscent of naval assault landers. Larger than standard size... team weapons? Exosuits?"

>Waving Lonestar off, he then heads for the tent large enough to qualify as a miniature bazaar.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NiFcVLVgoJc

>Stepping inside, he finds his display assailed by the unusually familiar, yet infuriatingly punned juxtaposition of Tallus' cultural analogue to his world's Japan.
(Eastern dragons no less... curious.)
>Holding the tent flaps open for Dul, he would wait for her to enter first.
>Hearing the greeting, upon its completion he offers a stiff bow from the waist up-
(Likely the same customs as Japan as well...)
>Before moving to overlook the bamboo table and splay an upturned palm towards the boxes while turning to look at Rasera.
Lost in the Crag Moors: Saving Wild's Damaged Ass
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352115
352117
>>351847
"Really wish I could eat something like THIS except much smaller and less prone to biting!"
>Definitely Caliya's influence there.
>Giving a hard nonconsensual tug on the pair of tentacles in her left hand was this a flashback or a flashforward?, drawing them partially into view, two of the laser-welders slice deeply into the Rilvenni's upper one sending out a thick cloud of orange-red ichor, the other pair doing little more than burning the lower's exterior.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 613/????HP
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] >T#1
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <T#2
>vs:
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 4] <E.Counter
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6 = 2]

>Marginally more successful on the right side, three of Wild's repair tendrils score deep channels into the upper tentacle, number seven's laser-welder pulsing uselessly in the water as all four are gently squeezed by the Planar monster's tentacles.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 653/????HP
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #8
>vs:
[1d6 = 6] >T#3
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] >T#4

>Finding a near-optimal path closest to the shore off the left screen, you heave back on the control sticks guiding her towards it and are interrupted by a series of high pitched grinding noises across Wild's internal frame.
>Force-walking your Eldritch-Android daughteru into a rapid rearwards match, the left foot slams down, then the right, Wild's entire hull and structure straining to drag the creature's weight with her.
>Yet, she does, smashing the backhand into the remaining abominatoin's teeth in a spray of red-orange with small white pieces, creating a churning vortex from the blow, dazing it enough for several of the eyes to unfocus-
>Her hand tears through the monstrous Planar pseudo-flesh, smashing into the other side of it's ruined jaw, although one lucky tooth was lodged in the armor on her wrist.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 783/????HP, SEVERE BLEEDING!

"If I had one believe me I would have used it by now mom!"
>The creature's jaw was hanging entirely limp, only a few of the bizarre teeth remaining.. then she punches forwards while the creature ceases reversing course to ram her chest again.
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
>vs:
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] >Heavyweight
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] >Sail
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]

>Quickly checking the left screen again, the camera on Wild's back was less than 10M from the surface and would be enough to drag the Planar out, so long as she didn't lose hold or it noticed how close to the shore it was.
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.352117
352118 352123
>>352115
"It probably tastes like ass, just look at it!"
>I was not very big on seafood, and this monster was not making my opinion rise on the prospect.
>Watching the repair tendrils slice through the hide of this fucker, I couldn't help but feel satisfaction as it gets sliced into, not even minding the cloud of obvious blood dulling my view.

"Oh I wouldn't fucking doubt you would, believe me."
>We'll need to get her the ability to make and chuck those around.
>Ignoring the noises her hull was making, I try to get the squid shark out completely, tugging back on the controls.
>This mother fucker was going to burn.
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] >B. Riposte
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.352118
352123
>>352117
additional roll
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] >B. Riposte/ISTCM
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352119
352134
>>352113
>Lips pursing as Zigri flattens himself onto a pegacake on the ground, Naliyna is confused whether to laugh or sigh, instead arching her left eyebrow, a thoroughly angered gleam roiling on her coat.
"Then here's something I can tell you: those three mares Kraut stole from? They were headed to meet with Razorback, carrying five thousand Bits. Wanted to hire five humans up front for a brothel they were starting at a five percent cut for each, or ten for ten percent. "
>Leaving that torrid information in the air, she sits back as the last remaining pages are lifted, scanned, and set down in it's relevant pile.
"Almost done with what Zigri said to do, these will be the last ones. Aaaaand-'
>Left rear hoof tapping on the Pagoda's stone floor impatiently, the final two sticky notes are placed, the tradesmare leaning forwards to hum between her words.
"InterPony is tagging everything for Tartarus with names, dates, locations, prices, and who was there right now. For us.. I've got a couple links on the InterPony network, but it's long distance so it'll take them a while to resonate here. Let's see where Lucky started her crime spree, what she sold, and when."
>Pointing her right forehoof at the display with a brief tremor-laden hum, it widens again to a 5M by 8M projection.
>Bringing up a series of clipped notices from Canterlot and Stalliongrad, each of the banned, restricted, sacred, or relic items are displayed in order of the date they were stolen, then the date they were sold:

>All three alchemical tablets in Lont's possession were listed as stolen two months prior to sale from a small Solar Guardian museum in southern New Canterlot, a district usually frequented by retired Day Guards.
"New Canterlot was still in turmoil at that time. Badly."
>The lone Impact Shard was stolen two weeks prior to sale in Stalliongrad's Military District 02 from a small reliquary, while the trio were taken from a Post-Dynasty museum three weeks before being sold to Razorback.
"This is right before Lucky started hiring us to do her dirty work."
>The Crestburrower's Tongue and Cretalva Core were both sold a week after being stolen from a large depot in the Lower Dragonspines, some distance from The Boneyard.
"Those were likely sidelined for a Dragon Vigilant leader, Captain equivalent minimum."
>The Blade-Caller Glyph was much older, having been stolen nine years ago from a minor Gryphon noble that had visited Las Pegasus.
"That's right when artifacts and relics started going missing. Maybe she saw that as an opportunity? Also this is.. six or so years before somepony tried to assassinate her. Wish they'd succeeded."
>One Sunglow Stone was reported missing from the Lunar-Solar Guard Museum, right next to what used to be the New Canterlot Lunar-Solar Headquarters, exactly an hour after Fankil was brutally executed, then sold four later.
"...that's like cutting open an old wound and pouring lemon salt inside."
>The Life-Stealer Gem had been part of the Cairn Wharf Arena's exhibits on early Cult of the Dark Horse and Lunar Guardian relics, stolen exactly a month before it was sold to Razorback; it was listed as one of two objects taken, the other was unknown.
"Huh. Been to the Cairn a bunch of times with Lonestar, mostly for food. That Arena's about a ten minute jog from the new platform. Old one was five, maybe six. They moved a lot to the docks. This one's tagged."
>A trio of missing bowls, the Gryphon Runesage, Runemage, and Runepage, were a complete set that had been stolen from a Gryphon diplomat in New Canterlot eight years prior; the dignitary was furious as he had intended to gift them to a royal of the Rose overherd.
"I'm starting to see the pattern here. Anything that she could sell quickly without too much speculation or questions was, but the more unusual ones.. she waited on. She sold them one by one to keep suspicion low, and interest extremely high."
>The Daykiller was much the same, stolen from Luna's Memorial Village along with several more items two years ago, though one of the thieves had been caught; interrogation was useless as the pegasus succumbed to an unknown overdose 10 hours after capture.
>The First Overking's Claw, one of the known six, was stolen a little more than nine years prior from an unnamed reliquary on the Equestria-Gryphon Kingdom's border; the Librarians whom were supposed to be guarding it, among other relics, were found with their throats slashed by smaller than usual standard wingblades.
"A Lishanki did that. Well, fuck."
>Bringing up one that you hadn't seen before, but heard about from Hollow, was a set of bright gold wingblades, originally made for a Lishanki Matron around 29,400; it wasn't stolen as the Lishanki themselves sold it, but the circumstances were unusual as their Matron in 29,997 was rendered ill.

"She was using three tactics. One, hold onto something for a while and make the price skyrocket. Two, sell piece by piece or in small lots. Three, cover any 'expenses' with overpriced basic crap if one and two weren't working. Damn it."
>Leaning back in thought, Naliyna sucks air through her lips for a bit, then lifts both hooves to rub the sides of her head with a snort.
"There's another pattern, thanks to a certain pony we both know a lot better than we thought. Red Salt. Whatever that shit did, or does, is enough to make any pony desperate to kill for it, or kill themselves on it."
The L.O.N.T
9fedfaf
?
No.352120
352184
>>352105

>Oh Cadence. This hurt. And he promised himself he will get back at her hard.
>Numbness gave way to a burning sensation coming from his new body parts as if their sole purpose to was to pump pain into its back and spread across his whole backside.
>But he made it and landed. And as a bonus he did not fall onto his ass.
"First flight...Complete..."
>He said with a rasp, breathing deeply with relief.

>Giving the Lunar Pegasi a two finger salute Lont was about to move out in search of Krinza yet it was the chunky pony that found him first.
>Lont stared back, and blinked too, before focusing on the Lance.
"You sure you ain't a Psion? 'Cause you read my mind."
>The winged human followed the Unicorn into the Workshop. And like the Unicorn he made sure not to bump into anyone or let anypony bump into him as even as he wasn't flying anymore you could feel how raw and tired his new muscular system was as it spasmed from the sudden flight course.
"You are going too?"
>Lont drying observed as he handed over his Scale Armour.
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352122
352126
>>352114
"Extreme long term. I have accessed ten archives of human contact with Stallionrad. Before Razorback started interfering. One of the humans here was.. involved with a mare in the Watch Guard. I'll keep that one on file."
>Coming in through voice-only prompts, the progress bar from 'Tipper' shows 93%.
"I know sir, was simulating short to extreme range combat using Broken Hoof as a base model against known ponies here. Even severely wounded she's a credible threat to four or five humans at any range or radius. One on one against Twisted Wing at two hundred meters Broken Hoof has an 81.5% chance of downing her in five volleys. Or 100% if she were to sever neural control of the body."
>Eyeing her opposite with a disbelieving face, 'Shiibo' stiffens upon perusing the first twenty simulations and making a reference check.
'0.2% possibility of subterfuge success. 0% chance of forceful disconnection from contamination vectors. Chance of retaliation: >95%. Retaliation success: 100%. Razorback would be wiped out in three to four minutes.'
"So you are better at the subtle processes! But, now do you see the problem I'm looking at? I wasn't including the Tower Guard. Twenty full battalions of elites as of 29,996, eight battalions support, three field battalions able to deploy defensive structures.. like this one? Smaller though. Superior numbers, training, equipmarent, armor, all of them potent psions. Vigilites are an unknown; highly religious Undead with a passionate hatred for Eldritch, Planar, non-sapient Spectrals, non-sapient Undead."
'0% infiltration factor right now. Sympathizers would be found easily. How do-'
"Let's discuss this quietly, hrm? Sorry again sir."
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <Tech-Use
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]

"Fuck yeah it is!"
>Throwing his left fist in the air, Lonestar grins with sheer joy as he pats the light hull affectionately.
"Naw, real ones was a little bigger than this by two an'a half tons, woulda fit ten troopers a'four Marine Diver Exosuits 'stead of eight an' two. Space aplen'y, lockers inside fit most big guns like plasma cannons, skipjack launchers, tank bustin' masers, mass implosion drivers, gyro-rod launchers, shit none'a Razorback got. Babies like 'er was built on a colony ship turned factory in orbit an'sent down in lil' tiny batches fer assaultin' bases, convoy leader style. Wait a sec.."
>Rubbing his chin, the man frowns in deep thought.
"Maybe I oughta order an Exo too? 'Course th'Diver ones was slow as shit an' Three Forges never did finish th'damn land walkers."
>Waving back at you, Lone folds his arms.
[1d6 = 4] <Choice

>Trailing behind you at a close to walking pace, the Siren was mostly absorbed in the task of repeating difficult or unusual words.
>Realizing you'd stopped, Dul nods politely at the thoughtful gesture, skip-sliding inwards.

>Blinking in surprise at the unexpected gesture, the sable mare bows her head down and left in familiar greeting, holding the position for two seconds, then sits upright with a pleased smile.
>Rolling forwards to stand, stepping forwards while whistling from left to right, the other lanterns uncurling themselves into a profound variety of similar dragons, each one holding a single weapon, object, item, or instrumarent of tiny size.

>Sliding off to the left and seating herself, on air of course, Dul gawks at the stacks of futons, then at the unusual reptile-avians with a puzzled head tilt.
[1d6 = 2] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus

>Pausing half a meter from the table, Rasera offers a heavy nod of approval, motioning with her chin for your inspection before smiling again.
<Japoneighse> "It has been months since .. met one that knows .. greetings! No need to be .. formal, I was not .. to be here. I was to trade beds at Bright .. Castle in .. trade, not quite legally. Two years ago a ... in .. all of .. was to cut off trade with ... Of course my clan .. the Records so we are free to travel and trade .. we wish so long as the Jade Princess and High Queen of .. Storm .. do not .. funny that was."
>Eyes closed and giggling softly to herself, Rasera tips her head at one of the futon stacks.
<Japoneishe> "There was a .. at castle gates, .. like a .. in .. without .. hooves, horns, or a giant weapon, lying down. I asked the .. dragon-spirits where he ... and they .. me on .. Streams of Air to this .. castle. He was .. than I thought, but the dragon-spirits .. him to his home would be .. honored. The ponies here have traded for a hundred beds tonight so I will stay a .. longer. .. the clan sends word .. or I am asked to leave.."
>Eyebrows wiggling humorously, she motions at the boxes that didn't have a lid, switching to the translation orb with a furtive glance downwards.
"Duck of ruby is trinket of strong fire, give power other fires. Unicorn say eat fire on armor."
"Topaz of dragon is trinket of strong lightning, give power lightning. Eat lightning on armor."
"Purple dragon is trinket of pierce armor, make good on spear. Unicorn say Equestria ponies call Force."
"Black cat of Moors trinket is make Void, hard heal wound, deep. No touch, sharp claws. Unicorn say not know trinket good, think need other things for use."
"White-blue sphere trinket for move fast, quiet. But not work in no magic places. Low magic places unicorn say work half."
"Big wood dragon curl in ball is trinket of scales. It make armor tough, weapon hard piece. Sweet unicorn say make strong to magic chants too. Not spirit magic."
"White lamb of stone make good sleep self and friend. Stop nightmares but not Nightmare, she best friend of tired ponies. Unicorn say work on tired enemy sometime."
"Box of bird feathers, unicorn say old, work so-so. Make armor safe from most magics. Not spirit magic. Bird is come of Dominion Plane, place ponies hate, bad travel."
"Plates of lots metals guide for alchemy, make in Ponishima. Make potions stronger but read Neighpon for use."
"Trinkets is five of thousand Bits. Feathers, plates alchemy, ten of thousand Bits."
Lost in the Crag Moors: Saving Wild's Damaged Ass
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352123
352137
>>352117
>>352118
"I don't care how it tastes mom, I want to know what the flavor is before I decide whether or not it's worth eating the orifices!"
>Whatever Caliya's thoughts were normally, these stomach churning ones were on maximum overdrive and going STRAIGHT to culinary prison.
>Still unable to get a proper grasp on the left side tentacles, Wild does hold them steady for her tendrils' laser-welding units to ripple cut through the top one entirely, then halfway into the second spraying jets of red-orange gore through the water, though the plating on her left arm somewhere gives way in a metal-being-ripped-apart shriek.
>That did not sound like an even trade.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 858/????HP
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] >T#2
>vs:
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 6] <E.Counter
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6 = 6]

>Less successful on the right, armor plating on the four repair tendrils can be heard pinging off each of them even as three score a violent channel into the top, severing it completely while unit five misfires in a rotating pattern.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 888/????HP
"Hold the buck together damn me!"
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #8
>vs:
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] >T#4

"Can I have at least four of them for situations like THIS-"
>Sparing a glance at the left screen and deciding Wild was unlikely to crash down and let the beast on top of her in the small sand dunes close to shore, you struggle to direct her progresss, the left stick resisting heavily.
>Missing the left step and leaning backwards at a somwhat concerning angle, the right catches solidly, Wild pushing back in a small hop to keep her straight pace.
>Right blue arm punching down the Rilvenni's mouth as it slams into her chest off center, it's velocity times mass was enough to start pitching the Eldritch-Android backwards at an even more alarming tilt, near-fountains of brighter orange-red gore spewing out in a cloud that was now choking out the right screen.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 968/????HP
"MOM DON'T LET IT ME CRASH LIKE THIS ESPECIALLY NOT WITH YOU WATCHING!"
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
>vs:
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] >Heavyweight
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] >Sail
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
>Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352125
352166
>>351904
>Making a nice, deep inhale of the Otherworldly-touched soil, there was a scent here that didn't fit.
>Not here-here: everywhere.
>Snowfall was unable to think of a number that would fit.
>The sensation through hoof was much the same, the unusually deep energies running in sporadic patterns that were randomly circular.
>Chewing the unusually Void-tinged soil, the taste of growth and regrowth energies burdened the Pred-Elk's consciousness.
>Old Horn was old, yes, not like this.
>The traces were a burning sensation of fury driven into a humming form older than the New Everfree, and was/was not supposed to be here.
>The entire Fortress, from wall to wall, ground to underground, was laden with deep, terrific energies that made the minotaur's powers feel small, perhaps.
>Drawn into a trance by the spastic currents flitting across non-physical eyes, Snowfall's consciousness traces the pathways, steps unfelt at the rawness of nature exposed to him.
>Once, twice, a condensed gleam passes his other-vision, moving quicker than human or pony should without escaping the real-place of Tallus.
>Sensing himself passing next to the Pagoda, it's warm, friendly air and pleasing crystal chimes rapidly become distanced in his mind, as do the burnt, defiant howls and screams emanating from the right, the tower where a shackled, winged pony kept herself open for some to see, few to know, and none to share.
>Trodding towards the place where metal became hot, ripples of energy layered between pieces, then cooled with satisfaction, a note of dispassion is tasted in the not-air.
>Pausing to inspect the weak looking biped next to a blazing swirl of pride, hesitance, and grief, the controlled, humorously firm energies of another bearing a sliver of deep ruin is seen/felt/heard.
>The rawness was here, now it was elsewhere.
>Tracing back towards the Pagoda, Snowfall stops as the tiny compressed speck flits past once more.
>Following it again, this time he pauses in front of the water-filled bowl, no longer filled, that carried great joy and memories, unstable pieces that should have been whole, yet were not.
>'Watching' the speck cease moving under the joys, the tiny head swivels around, a long, tiny, thin beak appearing first before the cold, death filled eyes of turbulent, raw nature appear.
>Lin. Not the real name, just the name liked the most.
>Head tilting sideways, the NOT-hummingbird grins in a savage wave of death-life-regrowth-evolve-repeat, twisting into the form of a colorless-green earth pony mare.
"I knew one of you would find me around here again. Take a step down, there's a nice little cavern here filled with all sorts of new life. Maybe it'll live, maybe it won't, but that's the point. And don't worry, the earth will let you through. Why? I said it will."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.352126
352127
>>352122
>He makes a similar mental note of the human x pony relation as Shiibo and 'Tipper' return to networking. Sending them off with a note of apologies being uneeded.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYEPDPApeQU

>Looking around at the myriad noodle dragons that unfurled around him, he sizes them up curiously.
(Uncanny similarities to Eastern Wyrms.)
>Caught off guard by the sudden influx of a language he hadn't heard or used in years, he leans back with his helmet canted.
>Blinking rapidly, he tries to focus on the words and recall their meanings.
(Haven't heard these words and tone since that Neo-Tokyo ghost deployment... somewhat archaic.)
>Relaxing somewhat as Rasera transfers to the translation orb, he internally recounts the appropriate tone and pronunciation for his long unused Japanese.
>Folding his hands together, he makes a shallow bow.
<Japoneighse>"I... humbly apologize. Hearing this language after so long, time was needed to recall and understand. May I trouble you to repeat your story?"
>He then gestures to a few of the various trinkets, reaching out to brush his glove against the nearby spirit dragons.
<Japoneighse>"That same unicorn told me of some of these. The... dragon sphere? Force trinket? And white lamb? May I see them?"
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352127
352145
>>352126
>Warriors holding their weapons in the left claws to show non-violence and safe conduct, the rest bearing their objects of station or duty in the right claws, each turn serious, dipping towards you shortly before taking up rigid poses.
>Grinning at due respect being made, Rasera's ears flick in pleased circles, addressing you with an equal, curt bow before making short false-kicking motions, hoof by hoof with an amused lilt.
<Japoneighse> "Worry not Otherworld-brother. This castle is sacred ground as the cursed unicorn priest of the dead has spoken rightly. Dishonor does not reach us here, nor do you have ponyshoes to remove. Boots are acceptable of course, some ponies track more dirt and stains on their souls than minotaurs or Harpies."
>Partially suppressing a giggle, the orange-eyed mare dips her head right in firm apology.
<Japoneighse> "It is no trouble Otherworld-brother, I have not yet chosen to sleep or explore. I spoke that it has been months to meet one that knows the 'proper' greetings. Of course this is informal, I wasn't supposed to be here. My clan asked me to reach Bright Stone Castle in Eastern Equestria, thus I am not here with full legality and safety of conduct. Two years ago, a shot time after Razorback arrived, the Queens and Princesses of Ponishima ordered all trade to be cut with Equestria after the great Palace of Sun and Moon was destroyed. My clan, the Cavaliers, did not sign the Records of Equestria 29,996 or '97, so I am what is now called a 'Free Trader'. I have full rights to trade freely so long as I do not cause trouble for the Jade Princess of High Queen of Snow Storm peak, the two royals of whom my clan serve in absentia. It was funny they ordered such as most of the clans and tribes are not bound by Records, only those living in works they have ordered built."*
>Taking a deep inhale, the sable mare rocks back on her hooves with a small, merry snort.
<Japoneighse> "Most funny indeed. When I arrived at Bright Stone Castle there was a hu`um in front of the gates, lying asleep in great pain. He had no great muscles, hooves, horns, or a giant weapon to crush or pierce with. I asked of my ancestral dragon-spirits where he belongs, they guided me to this place on the Streams of Air, what Equestria's pegasi call the Airstreams. Dragon-spirits and pegasi may use them, but I cannot as my lineage is earth pony, they carried me on the Streams to here. He was heavier than expected, I believe from his Otherworld nature. The dragon-spirits swore returning him to his home would be greatly honored. I feel their words true, marely ponies have seen fit to trade for beds made by my clan. I will stay here until my clan sends word for me to pick up more bed and trinkets, or the trader, or royals, of this castle ask me to leave."
>Head bowing in a slow, appreciative motion, the closest one was carrying a half-corporeal string of coins in both clawed hands, nearly every coin from across known Tallus on it.
>Your glove ripples on surface contact, brushing its feathered-scales down on head and neck, the dragon-spirit raising it's wings in appreciation.
>Eyes closing to smile briefly, Rasera tips her head left in an encouraging 'of course' motion, without further subtext or meaning to it.
<Japoneighse> "A grand omaren, blessed are we all here. They approve much of you as the first hu`um of tonight. The dragon-scale sphere made of dark horse chestnut wood is made to reinforce armor. And we do know horses exist, they do not frighten us like most ponies. It will protect against one of the following every few seconds: weapons whether enchanted or not, unicorn magic, the most common Elemarents, or the Mind-blows from psions, earth pony or not."
>The Asiatic dragon was delicately carved, each scale and feathery protrusion nearly realistic as it was curled protectively around a sphere, likely Tallus.
>A wide, tightly carved royal mustache, faintly coated with oil on the surface, showed it was a representative of all the Elements, or Elemarents, although it shared some features of the more common dragons Razorback had encountered in the past.
<Japoneighse> "The purple spinel dragon uses nearly the same Elemarent as Force, and allows piercing weapons to ignore some armor. Unlike Equestrian gems of the Mystic variety it will not work for blades or maces unless such have at least one spike."
>This was an Otherworldly dragon figurine carved in much the same marener, save for showing no signs of Neighsian influence; rearing back on rear legs, the front claws were poised to strike while the maw was prepared to breathe, the eyes narrowed grimly.
<Japoneighse> "The white lamb of opal is rare in Neighsia and considered far more sacred than golden-flecked jade. It is given to foals by the priests of Dreams and Sleep so that they may be untroubled by ills near them. Marely of Neighpon say we should be giving thousands to Equestria but our leaders.. hesitate. Wrongly, marely think. Ten hu`um were received after Razorback, and more have arrived since in places away from the Great Walls, palaces, and other sites. Some say two hundred hu`um now live across Neighsia, scattered from home. The Princesses and Queens do not know what to do."
>An iridescent figure of a small sheep, quite round and fluffy, similar to those various Operators had taken of lambs in the Empire, was in a crouched position with a smiling face as if prepared to bounce.

>Taking a half-step backwards, the Neighpon lifts her left forehoof, poking at her chin with a slightly hopeless smile.
<Japoneighse> "I know my words will be impolite and out of accord but I must speak them. The Starborn unicorn here is a most gentle soul. I cannot repeat his name, much too difficult. It wounds us to see such pain in a priest of the dead. He traded for every spirit candy we offered yet I fear they will not be enough. Are there hu`um or pony here to defend his honor?"
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.352131
352167
>>352076
>Mallia was more than happy to be quiet and absorb everything Witch-Two was explaining to her, so thirsty she was for any scrap of knowledge she could get.
>With Witch-Two and Tox-11 going back to their frequency to argue (for the second time today), Mallia simply answers with a creative first attempt at ASCII within a deeply appreciative empathic response.

( <3 )

>Lingering with her glance on the 'Hangar' sign, the Enginseer beams. Rubbing her chin with the tendril of her mechadendrite as she ponders what fun, pre-M41 vehicles are stored within...
>... Then is immediately distracted into another train of thought, eyes darting about.
*"... The Mess Hall... "*
>She lingered on the word like a child who'd just been reminded of the existence of ice cream, *"The food must surely be better than what we got in the Astra Militarum..."*
>The Enginseer saunters back past the rolling door of the workshop with little springy steps, stopping once she had once again crossed to the other side,
*"... Speaking of food. Stormtrooper! Do you like fish?"*
*"Because--uhhh--I think I have a ... date? with Free Knight Raindrop, soon. And she promised a captain's platter! And to meet in a room above the workshop where there's some neat tools."*
>Mallia's voice trails off, and her near-wiggling motions stop as her hands go from rubbing in front of herself to clasped just behind her back.
*"--She said there'd be enough for you as well, if you wanted."*

>Mallia manages to stay still for a whopping 2 seconds, before she suddenly turns and starts looking into the workshop again, focusing back on that mare sewing that undershirt.
>The strange, non-technological means of producing the clothing means was fascinating her more and more, the longer she looked.
>... To the point she actually addresses the Xenarite machine-spirit inside the Auspex and swiftly calls for an analysis of the mare's method.
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <BQ. Auspex

>Though she otherwise doesn't try to interact with the mare, yet. They looked rather focused and busy, so Mallia simply watched. At least, until finally noticed. Head slightly tilted, eyes squinted. Mechandendrite tapping her on the chin.
>It's only after a moment that the pain in her legs finally caused a bit of a weak shuffle, briefly shifting her gaze from the source of her interest to look for a chair or a stool she could possibly take. Leaning against the wall frame of the sliding door and withdrawing one of her two Imperial Guard canteens from her hip, weighing in her hand to gauge if it had somehow come with water already in it from before she arrived on Tallus... Since she hadn't had the time to refill anything yet.
Clemency
!UbatCJ0.6s
6b058ed
?
No.352133
352178 352193
>>351943

>"Fuel is good, avionics working, adjusting weapons...."
>As Clem was running through the checklist and looks up at the roof, he remembers something
>The Moors is near 500 miles away and he would not be able to fly there for a fire mission and back without a refueling point
>Deciding on using the pagoda's stone, he needed to get the roof off the entire thing
>Clemency keys into the radio
*"Bren, can I get a team of unicorns to remove the roof off the pagoda? I'm landing a helicopter onto the translocation stone."*
>He focuses back onto the cockpit and sees the green flashing boards; he spins up the rotor and takes off
>Getting used to the air controls, Clemency holds a holding pattern around the base until the pagoda is cleared for landing
*"Bren, when you are done, get a team assembled and head to the Basin Village. Deploy P.U.Ps to reinforce the Village center."*
[1d6 = 6] <Summon the Engineer!
Bubba the Second
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.352134
352171
>>352119
"Of course they did."
>Bubba just stared with a lightly disgusted look.
>Shaking his head, he focused back on the display.

>Going through each item, Bubba would grimace at each mention of a human holding a stolen item, or items.
>"Gonna have to convince them to part with some of these."
"You and me both. I'd still put a bullet in her ass after, though."
>He rubbed his chin, before looking back towards the entrance.
"Red Salt's the substance that Zigri was failing to track down. And every time a human did a job for her, she'd use us to ferry that shit around. We were, likely, unknowing drug mules."
>He scowled.
"They had no choice, its why her fucking Rogues were so damn devoted. Without it they'd die in agony anyway."
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.352137
352188
>>352123
"Those are the same damn things Wild!"
>Granted until coming to Razorback I hadn't had many chances for more than 'salt' as a flavor additive.
>And I should probably have a talk with Caliya about his influence on Wild.

"Stop fucking resisting me then!"
>I knew she wasn't in control of that, but it still made me annoyed.
"You're quite a bit fucking harder to drive than a tractor!"
>Snarling as I tug on the controls, I ignored the last comment.
"I'M DOING MY BEST GOD DAMNIT!"
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] >B. Riposte/ISTCM
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.352145
352191
>>352127
>Pareidolia takes a hold of each of the objects as they are presented, staring over each intently.
(Superb craftsmanship. And incredible effects...)
>Hearing that she and her wyrm companions brought an operator back, he nods towards her deeply.
<Japoneighse>"For that, we thank you. Were it that we were not in a dire state, we would offer you more than the paltry givings we have."

>His helmeted face twinges slightly with discomfort as Rasera mentions the estimated 200 humans scattered in Neighsia.
>Muttering quietly:
"Two hundred... at least the rulers haven't acted yet. May still be time for diplomatic ties and Committee protocol laying."

>His discomfort deepens a degree as she then asks about Hodch.
>Sighing and placing the three trinkets on the bamboo before him, he clasps his gloves together. Peering towards Rasera, he observes her intently.
-Observing for Expert P.A.
<Japoneighse>"Haa-do-ch desperately needed them, yes. The most capable pony to defend his honor and save his soul has been missing for some time. In fact, the reason he and I are here was to acquire whatever we could that would aid us in our rescue attempt. That pony's name is Spiral. He has noble blood titles, but never held them close. Razorback misses him dearly and the clues I have found are the only lead we have, so we must try."
>He wrings his hands before bringing them back together.
<Japoneighse>"Spiral's disappearance was the result of humans who placed great burdens upon him. Not all were purposeful, but heavy all the same. It is not my place to suggest the policy of your homeland, so I beg you understand, but those humans in Neighsia belie a great calamity if not grouped and isolated with care. I have seen what can happen with cultures of the unprepared and humans are not like pony-kind. We have already brought unavoidable change that cannot be reversed. Many will not understand the weight of their actions until it is too late."
>Shaking his head, he presses his palms together while pointing downward and bowing forward slightly.
<Japoneighse>"These are merely my concerns. Most humans would not think this way. I ask you forgive my candor. My fears of failing to find Spiral well distracted me from my purchase."
Budieca and Ri'Vahz and Food and Headaches and History Lessons
The GM L.O.N.T
!!PYsGb3YilI
9fedfaf
?
No.352148
>>352079

>Budieca nodded slowly, her eyes glancing up to the ceiling where Swe was no doubt recuperating from his ordeal with the ever so tenacious Warlord.
"Smart of them, and from how the humans of Razorback were tricked into doing what they did.."
>She sighed wearily.
"I wish the same could be said about 'em."

>The smaller Gryphoness chortled as her ears swivelled in amusement at the imagery.
"From what Swe and Natalia have told me Batponies are very 'fun' ponies to be around, I'd fear to leave Swe by himself with more than one! Though it kinda sounds like you speak from experience too~"
>She teased, giving the scarred mare a wink and a lift of a wing.

>While Budieca and Sand Cutter snickered and got on like a nest on fire Warlord Ri'Vahz spaced out into a stupor, every now and then an incomprehensible word muttered out of her slack beak as she dived through the lessons she was forced to memorize. The fact it was all so boring and each session dragged on for hours at a time made the experience a mind numbing one, which was why she found it hard to link things together.
>At first.
>Chamber Liberian Grimm did tell her she was a slow starter. It was one of his many tolerated back clawed compliments he gave out to Ri'Vahz, or anyone else for that matter.
>Although she felt like she was missing a link, the sheer amount of information she dredged up had made that uncertain feeling disappear.

"Don't think I've met a Psion before?"
>Budieca asked herself, pinion outstretched against the floor and doing circles in thought.
"The Vales' Chamber Librarians would wanna travel to Stalliongrad and catalogue some of that Gryphon history, I'll tell ya that."
>Said Ri'Vahz as she came to, eyes coming back into focus again as she sat up straight.
"We should extend some sort of official offer to Shared Roses for her dedication at protecting so much, don'tcha think my Warlord?"
"Myeah. But we gotta find her first."
>Ri'Vahz simply said with a shrug of her wings.
"Black Pegasus? And Lucky? What'd she do? I heard nothing but good things from Swe about her."
>Budieca asked Sand Cutter, confused. She only knew of Lucky as a charming Trader for Razorback and the leader of Las Pegasus. She also knew Simon and Huntsmaster Cu'Nir helped Lucky in defending Las Pegasus from an assault from Stalliongrad. She was currently talking to someone from Stalliongrad, so maybe she was getting a different perspective which honestly made her intrigued. She was getting so much gossip material!

>Ri'Vahz stood up and took a step closer to the mare.
"If ya must ya must, but I urge you stay here until morning when its warmer. Or wait until I can have a warm cloak made for ya."
>The Warlord offered Sand Cutter, the Gryphonesses' voice told the mare she had reservations of her leaving in her state.
1/2
Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.352149
352169 352178
realization-intensifies.jpg
>>351941
>The staring match goes on for long enough Marshmallow finally blinks, and admits defeat to the primal psion.
>Gardenia wasn't having any of it, though, and wasn't wasting her time to stating her demarends to the loser.
>The first condition we already absurd. Marshmallow clearly wasn't interested and it didn't make much sense for Gardenia, who he would assume is a very smart and calculating pony, to force her into a position she didn't seem to care or be qualified for.
>And right in front of him, too. Like he wouldn't object.
>Except in this case it was a fair challenge, and the loser was honor-bound to yield to the winner's demands.
>The Lunar descendant was quickly silenced of her protests. Jeff could literally see the psionic energy radiating off her as she puts the pegasus in her place.
>He felt bad for Marshmallow, having been a late innocent in his Moors escapades for the evening. She didn't deserve any of the loathing and ire she was receiving right now. Even more she didn't seem to at least a prior beef with the sitting Councilerge member.
>But he knew if he interfered, all of that hate would be directed right at him. And it'd probably be whole lot worse.
>Even so her conditions were evergrowing in specifics.
>Reparations? Fair enough. Razorback could afford to dip into less dangerous methods of profit other than merc work to cover that.
>End hostilities with innocent Stalliongradians. Fine. They had Stream Lark in custody, so he can be released. Maybe the evidence on him was actual crap. And last he heard about Linara there was a contract out for her still.
>Then expose corrupt ones. She mentions Pear Blossom, whom he knows they have as detained. He read up on her, at least one of them was huilty.
>The last one made him start considering that maybe this was not directed for Marshmallow.
>It was mostly dirty mop up work, something a diplomat like her wouldn't get her hooves sullied with. But why put her through all these condition?
>Gardenia pauses, and cuts a glance at Jeff, then continues on about the Canterlot Treaty regarding Razorback citizenship. But she made it sound like it was being withheld from them, instead of the delay he kept getting the runaround every time he would bring it up with Lunar officials.
>Was citizenship for Razorback members being purposely withheld? Why would she advocate for that? And why would she think Marshmallow even care or would agree to do any of her demands?
>It would make more sense if she threw all of that at him, instead.
>Then it hits him.
>These demands were for him. Not for Marshmallow.
>Gardenia expects him to execute her conditions while the pegasus would be the face for Razorback's... re-imaging. Sure, let's go with that.
>Does she think he's capable of actually running the whole show, and get them out of the shit hole they've been digging themselves?
>He'd almost consider that punishment. Maybe that's why she's demanding this. Penance for him and Razorback..
>Fine. He can do this. He just needs to get the fuck out of here alive, he'll get Razorback right even if it kills him.
>Or he gives up and retires to whatever's left of the Basin Village.
>With Marshmallow Moon now a blubbering puddle on the ground, having saved him the brunt of the psion's rage, the Councilerge member begins taking her leave in his direction.
>He gives her a submissive nod, confirming her conditions directly with her.
"I'll... make sure she carries those out as best as she can."
>He wants to be quipy, inject a bit of humor into the tense situation, but even now he feels like if he even breathed the wrong way in Gardenia's direction it'd be over for him.
>She stops merely feet from him, giving him some information on the Tainted. A sigh of enlightenment escapes him.
>So before, they were just rampaging. Now they've stopped to gather mass for leader's to make tactful decisions.
>Given the bulk was earth ponies, it's still going to be a full on charge through the Village. They'll definitely split into flanking formations around the perimeter and attempt a fully encircling strategy. From his point he already notices barriers being set up, and ponies taking defensive positions wherever they can.
>If the plan now is to wait and let them strengthen, then wouldn't continuing to cut their numbers down be a first priority?
>Jeff idly grabs the drinking end of his assault pack's integrated water pouch and takes a long sip of water in contemplation.
>The General's already committed to an Alamo, they really don't have the numbers to throw at them.
>Should he get Anon involved? Possibly.
>Could he maybe call for Silver, and use that one favor she owes him? Also possibly.
>He feels around in one of his utility pockets, ones he keeps certain trump card items.
>And he realizes he has two of them. The updated ones. Apparently they're a little more reliable or so Anon alleges.
>Could he bring something in to reduce the Tainted numbers? A tank? Setup would be too long. More aircraft? But who would fly it? Clem? He's already probably prepping the Kiowa, and pilots are rare in Razorback.
>A bomb? Carpet bombs would require transportation. Cluster bomb? No, the payload is too variable. There could be duds, or veer off and possibly hit inside the Village.
>Single pay-load... an airburst right over them? Void-infused potentially?
>A clever smirk creeps up into the corner of his lips, finally gulping down the water, looking out
"Roger that...- I might have something in mind to cut down their numbers at the very least."
>The second half is more him talking aloud to himself than to Gardenia.
>But she already begins to take off for her own forces.
>He looks back as she canters off.
"Good luck on your front."
2/2
Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.352150
352169 352178
>>351941
>After the Councilerge member takes off, Jeff softly approaches the broken pegasi of Luna's blood.
>He kneels down next to Marshmallow, placing a comforting hand gently on the tip of her closest wing.
"Eesh. Sorry you had to go through that, Marshmallow. Between you and me I think that licking was meant for me, more than you. I didn't mean to get you wrapped up in all of this. We'll figure everything out, once we get back to the Fortress. Promise."
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <E.Lady Killer: Negotiation
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]

>>351659
>As he tries to console the Lunar descendant, Sunny chimes back in on the radio.
>It sounds like Mercy's alright-wait did she say cannons?
*"Mercy has cannons? Damn... that's pretty... awesome."*
>Mercy, the Awesome Pony.
>She'd probably kick his ass if he called her that. Or give her an unimaginable complex.
*"She's not... mentally okay, is she."*
>It was less of a question, and more of him making a likely guess.
>He had plowed her through a literal horde of Tainted, pulled through a battle field, then tech-fondled and fused with a Construct.
>She's defintely NOT okay, but he gives her props for being OKAY.
>Either way, the pony mercenary continues on.
>A Germaneighan cruiser? Heavy support? That sounds more like it, to him.
>If they're starting to go heavy, he might as well chip in.
*"Sunny, tell the General I'm aware of the Tainted waiting to merge and form leaders. I might have something to cut their numbers down, even dramatically, but I want to coordinate with her first before attempting to unleash it. The Village is likely within a non-lethel effective range, and I want to make sure all friendlies are hunkered down and secure beforehand. Mostly overpressure and fragmentation, possibly Void-infused. If we can drop as many as we can before they get their shit together, the better. Right?"*
Snowfall The Pred-Elk
The GM L.O.N.T
!!PYsGb3YilI
9fedfaf
?
No.352166
352192
>>352125

>As the words of this "pony" slithered into one ear and out the other like a slippery snake Snowfall came out of his stupor. He had gone on a journey around the Fortress chasing her. Passing the Pagoda, Twistie's tower, the Workshop, BACK towards the Pagoda and finally stopping at the empty Fountain.
>The Pred-Elk squinted his mystic eyes at this thing offering him entrance into the earth, he could of dug himself a hole all by himself! Besides he was told not to trust strangers offering him entrance to strange places.
>Buuuut it was underneath the Fortress, so it wasn't like he was going off to a different forest or anything.
"Stranger Danger."
>He simply said as he continued to judge her.
>Though. This thing in the form of a pony WAS older and stronger than Oldhorn (who was still better than her!), and he felt it within his core curiosity was growing. That human element that separated him and his family from the base Predator Elks across the Everfree.
>Electrical sparks zapped out of his antlers into the cold air as a sign of unease from the young Druid as he tentatively stepped onto the edge of the Fountain. He lowered his head and took in a deep whiff of this Lin pony.
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] B.Perception
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]

>Snoot finished with the sniffing ritual he hopped into the empty basin of the Fountain, dainty cloven hooves clicking on the dry surface.
>He merely stared at Lin, awaiting what else this nature-incarnate-mare had in store for him now he was where she asked him to be.
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!Kt47fK2OEQ
85283e7
?
No.352167
352194
>>352131
>Receiving a paired image, one of a crudely drawn heart shape from Andronal that was so bad it had to have been Commissar approved, Drakani's was an overlapping sequence of metallic colorations, the outside line trimmed with lace.
>They were still bickering during uplink, however.

*"I do not dislike it or the common spices. The examples here are held by most in extremely high regard. I concurred, numerous factors better than rations."*
>Carapace armor clanking to a halt, a blip of static occurs from a panel being shoved in the background, Chisan's voice deadpans in a slight tinge of humor.
*"A.. date. Confirmed Enginseer, downtime is a necessity for you. Time constraints are a limiting factor, I still need to 'interrogate' the allied Rune Knight, perform status check of Inquisitor Aguina, consider what to request from the Black Candle, then integrate into local command structure formally. Neat tools? ...I have not had time to inspect the Workshop or Hangar. Request a carry box if possible, will eat later when time allows."*

'A sacred view of the pure, blessed esoteric knowledge local equines have you shall acquire, Enginseer.'
>You knew Xenotechnologists had a flair for the dramatic and their Machine-Spirits were archaic, but this one must've been requested from a Lathe-World where traditional High Gothic was strictly upheld.
>Another tiny, ringing note that feels soothing to your cortex is emitted soundlessly as data reads across the MIU link.
>The screen displays ten small bronze and two pendants tagged as 'silverine', a metastable esoteric composite of silver, diamond, and a questioned compound, were located in four of the boxes. >Each was linked directly to the mare's consciousness, thin lines of tightly controlled electromagnetic energies in the space between were controlling the speed of each spool and needle movemarent, entirely avoiding contact with the silk being woven together.
>The silk itself was a known variety, at least to the Xenotechnologist, spooling datums describing it as a high tensile, heat and cut resistant Planar variety preferred for comfort.
>An image was displayed of a tall, thin bodied rainbow colored semi-metallic spider from the 'Ethereal Plane', unusually wide chitin-like plates covering the first two quadruple-jointed limbs, tagged as name unknown and relatively passive to humans.
>Noting the weaving process as 'Artificial Psionicism Multi-Object Manipulation', the undershirt in question was being produced by holding or displaying a pattern in mind, much like flash scribing Imperial Robot datawafers in field conditions.
>Similarities were close enough on a much smaller scale, and were listed as possible for human use with some skill and artifact training.
'thats Lann, full time master clothier for Razorback. one of the friendliest mares here too. shes well loved here and known to hug using 3/4 the strength of an Ogryn. can make soft armor that rivals high spec bodygloves, more comfortable than most according to various humans here'

>Like most tech-forges, unfortunately, aside from a few human height work stools on the west wall, there was limited seating in the Workshop.
>A dull thud of stone on metal close to the Armory door pauses you from the full canteen, Chisan's messy hair appearing first as he walks upwards carrying a cardboard box.
>Barely noticing the interruption, Lann's head turns to nod at the Scion whom returns the motion with a partial bow, carapace boots then rigidly clacking on stone as he heads through the center straight east.
*"Flower samples acquired and en route for delivery Enginseer, confirm dropoff location."*
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.352169
352180
1462642123116.png
>>351941
>>351943
>The good general didn't seem pleased to be calling another cruiser in.
>That's too damned bad.
>Sunny wordlessly watched Mercy leave, she was in a precarious mental state, whether the general believed this symbiote to be a good thing or not, it wasn't a good idea to push Mercy further right now, despite her own misgivings.
>They couldn't really be this naive could they?
>After heaving a barely perceptible sigh, she turned back to the watch guard general.
"Now what?"

>>352149
>>352150
>She held up a pinion to the general as Jeff radioed again, the typical pegasian sign for 'a moment please'
>Even Jeff seemed non-plussed over it. An eye twitched.
*"Shaken, but stable for the moment, she's on her way back to you now. Try to reassure her, petting works."*
>Sunny listened to his plan, he was vague, but it was obvious he was referring to explosive ordinance of some kind, and a big one at that if he was reassuring her the village wasn't going to be leveled by it.
*"Do it, I'll sell it. Nopony's going to like this, but they'll like being dead even less. Over."*
>Sunny lowered her wing and gave the general a look.
"I'm very sorry."
>That was all she said before she launched right into it.
"Jeff wants to co-ordinate with you to drop ordinance on the Tainted while their leaders are forming. Heavy ordinance from the sound of it, maybe void infused, but everyone'll have to hunker down. We should expect overpressure and fragmentation from the blast..."
>He did say as many as they can.
"-s..."
>She maintained steady eye contact with the general waiting for her response. Sympathy for the ears of everyone involved.
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352171
>>352134
>Flashing a cruel 'your suffering gives me joy' grin at you, Naliyna flips her mane in mock derisiveness.
"You do have to admit that would've been great for Pony Relations, especially with the younger Imperials. I mean, they're the entire reason Razorback barely gets anything from the Empire. I'm limited to the Conclaves and traders that still deal with me, soo..."
>Puffing her cheeks out with a duly inspired ear flick, she switches the items to those listed as bought by Tartarus, scrolling down from the earliest purchase.
"Might not be big enough. Then again-"
>Pausing, the trademare blinks upwards once.
"Pare bought some weapons in great shape from a mare in Canterlot Underground. I unpacked them all and set up displays in the Armory. Several are from your Era; there's an FG-42, MP-40, and two Sturm rifles, one a bit newer than the other but not by much. There's a bunch more that I don't know well."
>Ears swiveling around to listen for a few seconds, Naliyna's snout wiggles in annoyance, shelving the display for her InterPony to work over and bringing up the oldest files again, leaving Tacit's first recording alone and selecting the second.
"She can handle this. Zigri's trustworthy, it's safe to play the next few. Hm, the trips I made into Las Pegasus, I never heard anything outright only that there was a 'real hot thing' constantly out of stock. Let's see if there's anything listed with Red Salt."
>Checking the file name of each, the dates listed as month, day, and time weren't matching with the sharply focused earth stallion in each, though since Naliyna was long former military she wasn't catching on.
"Haaaay.. got one."
>Bringing up a paused recording of Tacit triumphantly holding up a tiny glass jar filled with reflective red powder, the background was a Starborn cloud home sometime around noon, Naliyna humming briefly to start the playback.

"Panuary Thirty-Second of Twenty-Nine, Nine-Ninety-Eight, zero three hundred hours. One sample acquired from an auction at Lucky's Bar, two ounces or so. Five of Luna's Enchained marenaged to infiltrate without suspicion, they were allowed in easily, her idiot human bucktoy didn't even notice them until the disruption was planned. Primary sale was a Germaneighan relic, the Heraldry of Rubicorn, all others are listed on the resolith section."
>Holding the jar aloft in a thin cloud of green psionics, the muscled red stallion sits back, forelegs crossing his chest with a snide expression.
"Disruption was ersatz due to heavy Rogue's Circle presence, no difficulties otherwise. Unicorn two started an argument over price, unicorn one baited the rest out by stealing a rare example of a Shatter-Sphere. While the human, Pikeman, was focused on unicorn one, unicorn two and batpony one grabbed this one, exiting without interferene during commotion. Mostly clean extractions all around. Unicorn one sustained minimal harm, the human's weapons and tactics are pathetic. Recommarend use of relic weaponry to deal with him if possible. Lucky might not notice for a while."
"Got into contact with Luna's specialist, a friend of Fang Killer. Hard to say his name right. In any case he confirmed what it is: Crystal pony blood. Hold for further details."
>Looking down and right at something for eighteen seconds, Tacit continues with a heavy sigh.
"Biological, magical, and Necromarentic analysis confirms the following:"
"The natural crystallization process of Crystal pony blood is halted by trace amounts of a magically enhanced alchemical anti-coagulant derived from numerous flora. It's commonly sold at basically every medium alchemist shop in Equestria and elsewhere. Added to it is a potent floral alkaloid extract, highly toxic, deleterious, somewhat hallucinogenic. Presumed to allow suggestive influences under standard doses, poorly studied otherwise, listed as a banned substance for use. It's being sourced from Lishanki claimed regions on the edge of Moors. Since neither them or Las Pegasus are under Treaty stipulations all attempts at interdiction have failed until tonight."
>Raising a larger jar of dull crystalline flakes into view, he nods before holding it in lace.
"Two and a half pounds snatched by Gryphon asset five, information sensitive right now but that will be addressed later. Continuing."
"The Inner Circle Wards and Lucky Strikes, Lucky's sire, had a contract to dispose of Crystal pony blood, whether due to surgery or infield. Of course most most chose the Labyrinth, others requested destruction in lava pools throughout the Dragonspine Mountains. That agreemarent began in 29,986. As Las Pegasus had the largest number of translocation stones and was on good terms with the Dragonspines it was allowed."
>Gazing down in the same direction again for 29 seconds, the Ruling Councilierge bites his lower lip once before continuing.
"It is cannibalism in part and whole. Further speculation is unnecessary at this time on the why, effects on addicted ponies sufficient to warrant her immediate execution.. in theory. Continuing."
"In order to prevent body-wide crystallization from occurring the affected individual must ingest an amount of Red Salt equal to or greater than the first. As the body develops resistance to both the anticoagulant and alkaloid that amount increases by two to eight percent per week, minimal to maximal. Death is violent and agonizing, extreme disfiguremarent occurs; firsthoof information shows two hundred minutes from onset of symptoms to death after a single dose. After one hundred doses, half a minute."
"All deceased individuals are subjected to total bodily destruction as per standard anti-infestation protocols. It's a good cover but won't last long if investigated by an outside source."
>Sitting back to exhale through his nostrils, Tacit sets the jars down to stare at the view.
"Not yet capable of directly linking all these factors together. If we tried to do this in court we'd get bucked and hard. See followup record for further information. If there is one."
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Arrive, Post #1/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352178
352196 352197 352238
>>352133
>Sensing familiar traces of Airstreams through the Kiowa's control stick, the view of Razorback Fortress from above was far better than expected.
>Leveling out at a stable height in full control, you had to wonder what the ponies and humans below were thinking of Hollow's metal babe going into combat for the first time.

>Answering immediately, Bren's marental voice is wide awake and sufficiently eager.
('Crew's headin' out, we're bringin' e'erythang we got on hoof. Askin' th'other horny heads ta take roof off now-')
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Mass Teleport
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <Mass Translocation
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Pegasi Crew
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Earth Pony Crew
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <Unicorn Crew

>Nearly twenty individual squads making their way from the Workshop, pairs or trios of combat ponies in each split off their unicorns, bright clouds of darker colors lifting the Pagoda's roof off to set it east.
>The first squad reaches the Pagoda's interior to start folding Naliyna's tent down, second, then third entering the greatly expanded portal with weapons ready, the fourth's lead stopping to make a short transmission.
*"Ten seconds to stow the tent, Clem. Everyone outside hold fifty meters north to clear the helo in. Tent down Clem, we'll set a perimeter in Basin, don't want ponies taking backwash-"*
>Barely seeing the salute, the man dives into the stable gateway.

>>352149
>>352150
("Right those wrongs first. When they are no longer tearing apart Razorback's future, I will consider whether or not to retain you as a Mortal Foe.")
>Not even skipping a single solid, ringing hoof thump on stone, the aquamarine Primal's words resonate in a blithe marental voice.
('A pity the Otherworld Harpies are lost, their great weapons shattered Constructs with profound force. I will pray that yours is a potent flame akin to theirs.')
>Connection severed, Vestal Gardenia thundering at the assembled ranks of Day, Night, and Watch Guard, then the units of combat Support Strikers and their thousands of manabombs holding station above each one's head.
"HONORABLE KIN! Remember the Lunar Guardians as they were, not what they became! Grieve for them, not for each or yourselves! Their last duty is here, you will not dishonor the oaths which shackle them to this place! Yours is the right to release those chains and grant the final rest denied to them!"
"STRIKERS! You will trade your lives for this holy site by the graces of the Four True Goddess! By my words you will not die a second sooner than the Earth allows! Carry no doubts and harbor no fear, this night will be the finest record of your service for all to know!"
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <GM.Primal Guard: The Tower's Will
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]

>Slightly recovering from her daze, the roiling bright blue-purple eyes stare down, blinking in painful slowness.
"...nothing makes sense. I was-"
>Much like her great-grandam's, the feathers were comfortably cool, lowering the temperature around her noticeably.
>Switching from shock to incredulous, Marshmallow Moon lifts her head, face drawing tightly as the beret rolls off and onto her saddle.
"What could you do to her tha- no, what was done to her? I- no. Forget it. Go.. do what you were doing. Excuse me."
>Stiffly bending forwards and standing in a single rolling motion, Marshmallow turns a quarter left in a swift half-step, hooves clicking on stone while her wings clutch her sides tightly, the hat forgotten.
Basin Village: Altars of Sacrifice, The Lost Legions Arrive, Post #2/2
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352180
352196 352197
>>352169
>Burning eyes trailing up and left, the General clicks her teeth amusedly behind the mask.
"Germaneighan Heavy Cruiser Division Five, vessel Eighty-Three, callsign 'Battered Shores' reports full crew readiness. They are performing pre-combat tactical rigging and opening a spatial gateway at the designated location. Were this a social event I would love to inspect each and every single nut, bolt, and relic melded to the hull, then the officers, staff, crew. Of course their Captain is last, he sounds incredibly hoofsome.. and young."

>'Battered Shores'
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Accuracy Calculations
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Optimal Range Settings
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Main Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Secondary Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Tertiary Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Stabilizing Sailstahl Panels
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Temporal Mass-Space Fold
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]

>Taking one last glance at the map, the Watch General's solid silverine front shoulder plates, then drop heavily.
"Fifty Support Strikers have answered, currently exiting Defensive Bastion Nine, Military Sector 0-5, Stalliongrad. There are no other forces in range of a psion able to commit. This may be everypony available, and willing, to join in."

>Committing the locations to memory, the Primal Psion places the scissors, buttons, and string in neat rows sorted by color, then carefully folds the map, stowing it behind her chest plate.
>Turning about heavily, the armored mare's head tilts.
>A silver flicker behind the emeraldine eyeslits changes back to burning blue: she was doing much more than smiling behind the helmet.
"Last time I watched a human bomb detonate it took out less than two hundred black iron armored Undead. Maybe this one will do considerably more damage. Return to the human outside, I will establish a marental uplink immediately, there are more than enough psions and unicorns to create a sufficiently heavy shield for a time."
>Unnecessarily clearing her throat, the mare turns, thudding towards the exit and calling over her shoulder before stomping out the door.
"May all ancestors guide you this night pegasus."

>Abruptly taking direct control of the numerous factional overherds, the Watch Guard General's smooth, mature voice ripples across Basin Village.
('Kin from all over Equestria and Tallus: I second Vestal Gardenia's words. This is the night the tormarented souls of ten thousand Lunar Guardians will be freed.')
('All Strikers prepare manabombs for optimal saturation effect, do not cluster them together. Follow Vestal Gardenia's orders to the letter.')
('Lances raise. Prepare to charge on my order, do not hold the lines.')
('Chargers, seize every opportunity the Lancers make to inflict as much damage as possible before disengaging.')
('Unicorns, extreme range bombardmarent must take place the second all manabombs have been launched, long range bombardmarent will take place immediately afterwards. You will hold the rooftops, a Destroyer Division and the East Moors Militia will provide cover as they are able.')
('All unicorns in the second floor, prepare medium range kinetics when Tainted reach four hundred meters. Maintain constant barrages afterwards, burn your souls out when the opportunities arrive.')
('All unicorns on ground level will destroy Tainted in visual radius. Those Tainted that enter Basin Village are to be individually targeted, select elemarental preference at will. Don't strike friendlies.. unless said friendly is deceased.')
('Humans, form defensive lines in front of the sacrificial altar. Most of your weapons will be able to fire over all other ground forces. Take every opportunity to strike Tainted at all engagement ranges AFTER the Support Strikers and unicorn volleys have commarenced.')
('The batpony is expended, her consciousness is limited. Her Bloodhost guards will provide some protection if Tainted near the altar. She has confirmed the summoning of a Harpy relic, a... gunboat class exoatmospheric from the Otherworld Harpies. It is currently on the Dark Side of the Moon but is extensively damaged and retains no pilot. The focus needed to maintain it's course is extensive. It will arrive in approximately ten minutes.')
('Keep her unharmed at all costs, EXCEPT for the humans. None of you are allowed to engage in close combat, disengage from physical contact. All ponies in range, trade your lives to keep them safe.')

('Tainted leaders confirmed, nearing complete formation. Ten Lunar and two Solar Guardian Assault Generals, four Solar Guardian Support Captains, two Solar Guardian Air Commarend Captains, two Lunar Guard Airstrike Captains.')
('We are facing six and a half armies. Even degraded by forty percent they are still immeasurably lethal.')
('Should the Four True Goddesses grant their blessings this night a new accord shall be granted. Let your souls be at ease, your actions will be known under this Eternal Night.')
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <GM.Warhost Leader: Calm
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]

>Basin Defense Preparations:
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Discordite Destroyer Stragglers
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Discordite Destroyer Platune 1
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Discordite Destroyer Battalion 3
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14] <Germaneighan Mage Cluster: Bombardmarent
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Razorback Veteran Squads, 3 total
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Razor Elite Squads, 4 total

>Boris:
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Barricade #2
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Support Striker Division 1
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Support Striker Division 2
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Support Striker Division 3
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Support Striker Division 4
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Support Striker Division 5

[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Aegis Ignis Faen + Support
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352184
352187
>>352120
>Delivering a mock-wounded head shake, Krinza glances back, then sets the barely unfinished tungsten lance down next to him.
"If I were everypony and everyone would know it."
>Holding out a hoof to stop you, the smith motions towards the first three fully loaded Elite squads, two Village unicorns with each, rushing around the Workshop's southeast corner, passing by at a run.
"No time for tools Lont, and of course I am going. Spiral, Roust, and Denra have given me considerable experience in launching kinetic weapons. I spend half an hour each night practicing with darts in the Mess Hall."
>Lifting the armor to inspect the rear with a bare thought, his face tightens in focus, horn sparking alight in waves of metallic colors.
>Sheaving Hyfalgryph scales out in two wide ovals to redistribute them across the entire top, you're turned around for a measurement, warm but not painful bands of energy settling around the base of each painful wing.
>Transferring the ad hoc measuring taps to the original ovals, the second layer is pressurized outwards, then secured by a line of rippling scale.
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11] <M.Casting: Reform
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <GM.Enchanter
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14]
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15]
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16] <Grandmaster Smith
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14]
>Completed Projects:
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Human Alloys
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Human Composites
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <Scaling

>Barely sparing a second glance at the work, he places the top armor on the ground, horn still glowing to lift the lance far above his head once more as a trio of Mercenary squads pass by at maximum speed.
"Should be cooled in ten seconds. Meet you in the Basin."
>Taking off at a reasonable trot, Krinza calls back, shouting over the Kiowa hovering over the Pagoda.
"Radio Clemency and tell him to cram as marely unicorns on board as he can!"
The L.O.N.T
!!PYsGb3YilI
9fedfaf
?
No.352187
352193
>>352184

>Lont gave a good hearted laugh at that.
>Yes, of course everyone would know by now if he was a Psion or not. Not like a different Earth pony turned out to be a Psion as well.

"Whoa!"
>Lont started, taking a step back and standing on his tippy toes as the squads dashed by him. This was insane, he hasn't seen such activity since the Fortress was besieged.
>Maybe even worse than that?
"I..Suppose I cannot stop you, friend."
>Accepting that Krinza was going and silently hoping Lann was at least staying, the winged human watched as his Scale Armour was taken from him. And then eyebrows rose in surprise as he was lifted too! But only for measurements thankfully.
>He sighed at the magical touch, which was a delight for him.
"Thank you Krinza."
>And then he left him for the Basin.
>Lont barely heard the Unicorns voice over the stampeding of human and pony soldiers ransacking the Workshop and Armoury and with a helicopter hovering in the air.
>This was the second pony this damn night that just, walked away. At least both Krinza and Farezith had the excuse of being busy ponies or else he would feel slighted!
>"You're better than that Lont, can be much better."
>His wings twitched on their own.

>Switching through all the busy radio frequencies until hearing the familiar voice of Clem, Lont cleared his throat.
*"Clemency. This is Lont, having a bit of trouble in the Basin Village aye? Krinza wants you to fill that 'copter with as many Unicorns as possible, hell stack them all on top of each other like sardines if you have to."*
>Tapping his armour and finding it has cooled down he started it put it on, gently.
*"Can you give me the short and sweet version of just what the hell is happening in the Basin, is the apocalypse happening or did someone steal all the mangoes?"*
>He quipped, though he knew both scenarios were the same if someone was insane enough to successfully take away all the mangoes from the Batpony population. He shuddered at the thought. Or maybe that was his transformed back muscles reacting to being covered in armour once more.
>Seeing he was down in Spiker ammo and used a grenade when fighting that Ward made monstrosity Lont too partook in pilfering the Armoury, unlike the horde of FNG's however he merely took what he needed and left for the Pagoda.
>Spiker locked, cocked and loaded.
Lost in the Crag Moors: Saving Wild's Damaged Ass
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352188
352189 352200
>>352137
"My apologies for only being able to focus on performing fifteen of two hundred separate functions and having limited data access due to severe damage!"
>Finally grasping the left remaining large tentacle near the center, her armored hand crushes it while the arm above is given a counter-squeeze, a large metallic snap giving way as two of the plasma-welders finally shear through.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 1,053/????HP
"Two down-"
>Dragging her arm a short distance back, Wild punches back into the Rilvenni's left side, a host of much smaller tentacles clustering in, keeping her repair tendrils back and loosing streaks of red light from the tips of each.
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 6] <E.Counter
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6 = 3]
>vs:
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] >TC#1
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] >TC#2

>Thoroughly damaged repair tendrils on the right side continue struggling to burn through the remaining large appendage, still crushing them as it receives a small burn, two of the units sputtering out uselessly.
>Rilvenni Subtype: 1,058/????HP
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 6] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #8
>vs:
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] >T#4

"I'm not able to do everything at once like I should mom! That's the reason I told you to take control of my motive systems!"
>Dragging each stick back in sequence at Wild's speed, angling her towards the shore goes halfway right:
>Solid impacts by both armored feet continue dragging the abomination, the rear camera now out of water and showing roughly a hundred meters of sand.
>Holding Wild's course steady as the Rilvenni smashes into her chest once again, this time a near direct center blow, the impact was enough to send Trytaran mass throughout her hull, the now too-familiar sound of armor being crumpled inwards.
>Barely able to see what was going on from the right screen, upon exiting the ocean fully by another step you're treated to the view of Wild's right arm pulling the accursed tongue out, thoroughly covered in chunks of red-orange flesh and ichor, using it to drag the Planar horror further onto the sand.
>Reaching nearly 50M out of water, the Rilvenni's tongue was trying to crush Wild's already ruined arm, the Eldritch-Android doing the exact same in return.
"Right external armor destroyed, internal hull ten percent, structure less than fifteen percent, any more damage and I'm going to lose this arm completely!"
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
>vs:
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] >Squeeze

>Ejecting the right chest cabin plates forwards, a hatch large enough for you to walk through is made behind the screen
>You're treated to a relieving, cool ocean breeze mixed with salt and the overwhelming stench of wood smoke.
"Whatever you were planning do it NOW mom!"
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352189
>>352188
>Rilvenni Subtype: 1,158/????HP
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352191
352217
>>352145
>Returning with a short bow, held for four seconds, Rasera returns to her standing pose with a sincerely pained expression.
<Japoneighse> "Forgive me if grace is in your soul, Otherworld-brother. I was ill prepared to meet hu`um in their castle, it is my offerings that are paltry. Were ten crates of spirit candy, two hundred trinkets, and the gifts of Planes in the scores I would feel more honored than now but the Eight Fates saw fit to bring me here. I will not refuse their invitation, nor invite disharmony for their kindness to meet hu`um and the ponies that love them."

>After sharing her last simulations to 'Shiibo', 'Tipper' remarks with little hesitation.
"Neighsia is virtually unknown, the newest records available are from 29,996. No solid data available. If what she states is true I'm willing to bet humans are banned from traveling there. Considering this planet is much larger than most human worlds, the number of humans here is... no, that's dead wrong. Comparative analysis complete sir, I can safely state a minimum five hundred humans would be in Neighsia right now due to how widely spread settlemarents are in Equestria."
'Zero contact? Not even one human has crossed continents to come here?'
"None. All of Razorback are either part of the original one hundred or have joined due to close arrival proximity. Neighsia cut all access and trade with Equestria two years prior. That's the definition of bad news. I don't have any 'good' to offer."

>Initially curious, Rasera firmly sets her jaw in at the expanded knowledge, ears swiveling outwards in subdued umbrage and visibly offended at the circumstances, her voice tinged in deep shame that she had no means to offer substantial aid.
<Japoneighse> "Haadohch.. it's strange that a unicorn born on the Moon would have such an ancient name. I feel it is from before the Eight Queendoms and Forty Principalities joined in harmony against the false Silver Alicorn of an Otherworld. A foul omaren it is when a grand priest of the dead is cursed to die, more so when a brother of different blood cannot hear his words. My ancestral spirits have told me of at least one thousand earth pony souls here. Haadohch and a pegasus borne of deep, old blood magic keep them calm, but before them was a kind soul that treated the spirits with great luxury. Nevertheless I feel hints of the pain grand Haadohch carries now. The perils he face are deeper than the graves dug north of here and louder than the pillar of elemarentally touched black iron, telling all psions to approach this castle with peace in their souls."
>Left forehoof lifting to place on her chest, her head bows partially right in a grimly apologetic stance; her words and actions would hold no sway in her clan's homelands without extreme risks being taken.
<Japoneighse> "Your words are true, there are weights here none of my ancestors may seek. I can offer no promise or oath, the Cavalier clan have long sewn, become spirit-smiths, or trade as I do. We have few warriors now and are unseen with cause, that is why I was able to travel without fear of contempt of breaking the Accord I spoke of. A hundred hoofnotes or less of my clan are set in Records the Jade Princess holds. Were I to make task with great proof for her to read and see, she might gain sway among the Imperial Court, or the Queens of Eight Seasons. Our Jade Princess is ill content to speak against favored hu`um by villages and towns alike, though I have heard no trouble of them, they have been at peace. Forgive my lack of station Otherworld-brother, not once have I sought to be more than I was content for."
>Imperiously lifting her right leg and holding it against her chest tightly to motion that you have no right to apologize, the pain was hers alone to bear, the skinny mare's orange eyes narrow in suppressed fury while she tips her head right in gentle dismissal.
<Japoneighse> "No, not here in this your home and his will, I cannot accept your apology here, after, or ever, unless you willingly harm my kin or ancestors. Your fear for a soul held by the unknown angers us, they chafe at his loss to the loving hu`um and ponies here, I chafe at my limitations. Were we not bound to serve Eight Seasons to me until my last breath, all would aid your task. Those three gifts are yours by right of blood across oceans from the fleck of soil that is my clan. Return Spiral to his home, Otherworld-brother. Then will their rage and my sorrow at his loss be cleansed. If by favor I am allowed to set an Outpost of Eight Seasons here, a clan's welcome I will ask for Spiral's return."
>The weapon carrying dragon-spirits switch stations with the implemarent holders, lifting their weapons and tools aloft in their right claws, all swiveling to face you with threat written by their actions.
>They would gladly seek destruction at your side if able, yet could not, and were instead gleefully encouraging your actions.

>Torn away from her self-improving classes, Dul speaks up in a flat, derisive tone.
"Dul know Crin feathers. Crin same Vortex as Dul. Sirens hate Crin. Crin stupid, loud. Remnant hate Crin too. Crin weak. Weapons hurt Crin easy but pony magic not hurt Crin. Dul want touch feathers, Dul know how make Crin feathers not weak. Dul need big rock, put weak from Crin feathers in rock."
>Breaking from her focused expression, Rasera's gaze turns from the Siren to you, now somewhat abashed though quite curious, her tone faintly impressed.
<Japoneighse> "My deepest apologies, I did not know your mare was from the Vortex. There are only a few hooves full from that Plane we trust speaking to. The feathers are, as the others, yours, a gift from blood to blood."
Razorback Fortress: The Fountain
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352192
352216
>>352166
>There was no scent.
>Instead, every possible iteration of flora and fauna Snowfall knew and could remember was buried under the weight of those he didn't know, or couldn't process.
>Entire pieces of history roll through mind and body, trace pieces of ancestral knowledge barely remembered and suppressed from age blink by in spastic images.
>The beginning of this world, the end of this world, the lifes and deaths: they were the same to this embodimarent of Nature.

>Grinning at the short distance connection, Lin's shoulders roll in a poorly understood motion.
"More intelligent than Sparking Fleur was, better self-control too. Interesting but not useful. Yet. This is your first lesson: each sapient sees me in a different form. To those that are scatterbrained or lack self-control, I'm a hummingbird. To relatively normal individuals, I'm a pony of their species in the opposite sex. But you? No, you have a better connection to Nature. And this world. A little bit, that is. This is me as I should appear to you. More correctly, what you are seeing is a part of Nature that you should see."
>Changing from vague friendliness to the sense that Snowfall's life meant nothing to it, Lin sighs in an exaggerated, zero-seriousness marener, right foreleg lifting to place across her eyes.
"Such a complete lack of decency and tact, you disgrace the millions of Druids that have lived long before you. Or maybe you don't. Then again you haven't been sapient long enough to understand the ten thousand polite subtleties and nuances civilization has to offer. That was an invitation to meet in neutral ground. I'll humor you this time but bear this in mind: I am not a kind teacher. Expect nothing more than misery from any lesson here on now. Or don't."
>Crossing space from the underground chamber to sit opposite Snowfall in a comfortably seated pose, Nature's eyebrows raise.
"Call me Lin. Doesn't matter if that's a name, title, rank, identifier, signifier, or what the inhabitants of this part of my shared world call me. I'm one piece of Nature, part, parcel, the sum is greater than the one. You may think of me as evolution, that is neither entirely adequate nor entirely true. Life, birth, death, decay, regrowth, renewal, change, adaption, adaptation, biological modification. All of those concepts are one and the same in different measures, just not the same in time. When you pick up a round rock to examine it, how marely sides do you see?"
>Tossing both front hooves in the air before Snowfall had a chance to answer, Lin snickers.
"Wrong! There are no sides, Elk. You will find imprints, impressions, and the cumulative damage worn into the surface. There may be fractures, small amounts of elemarents, or metals in the rock. But, one has to understand those ever so tiny little changes that make each rock different from another that might look the same. That's me: I select the positive traits that evolve into new generations, remove the worst ones, usually by force, and ignore those that don't require my attention. Whether or not a species becomes extinct does not matter. Life and death will continue with and without my input."
>Making a popping sound with her lips, the primal Druid's blank-colored eyes narrow in thought.
"Now for you. What exactly do you contribute? Are you better than a hundred non-sapient Pred-Elk? A thousand? All of them? Are you worse because your consciousness is thoroughly corrupted and tainted by fragmarents of an Otherworldly human's soul? Why do most ponies hate the non-sentient Pred-Elk? Why aren't there enough lightning resistant predators to keep the numbers of non-sentient Pred-Elk in check? Am I lazy? Do I hate your non-sentient kin? Do I hate you? Have I been ignoring all Pred-Elk? Why are you here? Am I toying with you?"
>Thumping a front hoof down again to interrupt Snowfall from speaking, Lin tilts forwards with a profoundly amused smile.
"Don't answer the questions I asked. That's the game of life, Snowfall: trying to find the 'right' answer is like jumping into a deep pit without knowing what might be, is, could be, or should be at the bottom. Instead, think carefully on everything I've asked so far. When you can't find the best choice, at least make the best possible choice. Good or bad doesn't matter, you'll be acting instead of suffering, and suffering is what sapients are supposed to do. Better to evolve a tiny bit instead of freezing solid and dying in the process of over-analyzing. Here's a fun fact for you: analysis through paralysis is what causes at least a quarter of most sapients to die or be killed."
>Glancing up to look at the bright red Moon high above, Nature-Evolution smiles wistfully.
"To be young and filled with the joys of death and life again. You should go frolic. You're young, intelligent, and have a potentially amazing or absolutely horrible life ahead of you. Me? I'm going to keep making humans and ponies angry at the unexpected flora that I've been developing since the first New Everfree seed landed on an Early Dynasty outpost wall quite a ways from here. Underground bioluminescent nectar-bearing flowers are oh so much fun to watch be spread around by three clueless beings. And if you're ever in the neigh-borhood, ignore me and I'll ignore you. Or maybe you won't ignore me. Maybe I won't ignore you either. The end of each millennia is always so interesting to watch."
The L.O.N.T
!!PYsGb3YilI
a12ad9c
?
No.352193
>>352133
>>352187
Mallia Castella
!cMa5v04AX2
27d4b0d
?
No.352194
>>352167
>Something about Andronal's stupid, badly drawn heart was both hilarious and precious to Mallia's sense of humor.
>Her lips twisted in a weird lopsided smile for a second, swallowing them as he bites back from snickering. Looking at the now identified Lann while she practiced her trade while the Auspex elaborated everything, and then some.

(Clothier... Oo~, that's perfect actually. Our clothing feature artificial fibers that would trigger Era Lock if we so much as lightly brushed another Operator of inferior tech-level, right? I could consider having her make me a new set of Era-Lock Compliant robes! And uniforms, possibly. Avoid accidents.)

>With that thought bouncing about in her mind, Chisan's responds prompts a blink-blink from Mallia who suddenly becomes self-conscious from the way he says the word 'date'.
>She pauses long enough for him to finish his sentence, before grumbling something back to him in such a low, half-annoyed tone half-flustered tone that made her pout audible.
*"Okay maybe not a date... Pegasus nightly ritual. ᴾᵒˢᵗ⁻ᵈᵘᵗʸ ᶜᵉˡᵉᵇʳᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ..."*
>She wries her lip a bit more, shifting her eyes while she convinces herself of her own words.
>Then takes a breath and straightens a bit more, her mechadendrite shifting a little more behind her back, near her Omnissian axe that was still on her back.
*"But, understood Stormtrooper. Will request a carry box for you."*
>Mallia said, back to her usual, eager tone.

>Tearing her eyes away from Lann as Chisan made his appearance, the Enginseer beamed and promptly steps forward into the workshop, hasting a bit to meet him half-way and get by Chisan's side, holding up hands to readily accept the box.
"Here, Stormtrooper."
>She glanced up at the (probably taller) man from her 5'6" of height once she got close, her smile, almost reflexively, coming up to a sunny wideness once again.
"Also! Would you like to read the transcript now or later?"
>She asked him, slightly more quietly, her mechadendrite curling inward towards a velcro pocket on the side of her rucksack.
Jeff
!!TGtxHBZnLs
9b1034c
?
No.352196
352197
massive_gamble.jpg
MOAB.jpg
>>352178
>Of course he knew he wasn't going to get any amnesty with just hollow words and promises. He'll just have to do good on them.
>As Gardenia bellows an inspiring speech, he focuses on Marshmallow as she begins recovering.
>She's visibly shook at his admittance, but he waves her off as if he just told her a nasty secret.
"Yeeeeah-let's keep that between us, for now. I'll meet you up there later."
>She finally recovers and starts making her way North.
>Jeff looks back South, still not hearing any word from his Lunarites yet.
>He can't continue waiting for them anymore.

>The Nightblade begins moving North as well on his own, Honeybadger fully collapsed and stickied onto his right thigh. Trying to shake off the previously intense situation he snaps his deathmask back into place and with an a authoritative strut up to the main forces, he pulls out his binoculars and begins radioing into any Razorback forces. He sees them to begin pouring in, finally. No sign of Clem. He must be spinning up the Kiowa.
*"All Razorback personnel, this is Jeff. I need a sound-off on who's here now, and what's inbound. Also, prepare for Close Air Support procedures. Danger Close."*

>>352180
>As he awaits feedback, hopefully from one competent officer, he feels the General's psionic overherd link him with the rest of the friendlies in the AO.
>It's jarring at first, but he adjusts.
>The General begins listing off order to all available forces.
>Now he can get a better scope of their mountings.
>Everything seems tactically sound. Bombardment first, then prioritize close combat later. Razorback will hold defensive lines for the altar. Guess that's all they can do for now.
>Hopefully some PUPS show up. He mentally kicks himself requested for them earlier.

>Her last declaration is troubling. The Tainted have already began and almost finished forming leaders.
>Twenty leaders in total.
>Fuck, he can't wait on his plan anymore, but he does wait for her to finish psionically transmitting.
>Mentally preparing for any reprimand, Jeff directly contacts the Watch Guard General.
('General, this is Jeff. Acting Commander of Razorback. I want to personally thank you and everypony that's here right now and has already passed, but urgencies are priority. I assume Sunny Feathers has relayed to you my pre-emptive strike.)
>Getting as close to the Basin's main forces as possible, Jeff stops in the middle of the road in front of the fountain and raises up his binoculars to begin observing the Tainted forces with his right, and brings up his TacPad's map.
>He needs accurate range estimates and area saturation of their numbers to calculate GPS coordinates and best possible height and positioning for an airbusrt detonation. He already guesses five-hundred and fifty meters directly South of his position, and a ten meter detonation above ground level.
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <M.Scouting
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <Binoculars
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Observer Tactician
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Tacpad GPS

>Finishing he scouting, Jeff pulls further North behind the closest barricades disregarding any forces around him as he begins preparations.
>He's got two Silver Wish Discs on him, the thought haunts him if BOTH of them were to funk up at a time like this.
(I'm going to attempt to deploy it momentarily after we finish speaking. Please prepare accordingly. I will be honest with you, the method to materialize it to this world is a gamble withing itself and I only have two chances for it to work. If both attempts fail, I apologize in advance. If not... I would expect the odds to tip in our favor. Speaking of favors, can you pinpoint all leaders within their ranks? I can guide it right on top of them from here, if possible. I'm also short sixteen Lunarite Collectives, ones from Stalliongrad I believe. Can you confirm with me their location?)
>Whatever information he's collected from his scouting he slings his binoculars and pulls a pen out one of the Silver Wish discs from its pouch.
>He's got to be specific...
'Void-Infused GBU-43/B MOAB with drogue parachute and fin stabilizers deployed on initial materialization at 5000 meters, remote release via TacPad.'
>He writes down the Tainted's GPS coordinates as exact as he can get for an accurate spawn point above them, before continuing-
'Nose camera remote CONTROL guidance system, connected to TacPad. Automatic-detonation height at-'
>He writes down his best calculated height of detonation from his observations at the Tainted's ground level.
>That's it. As short and sweet as he can get it.
[1d6 = 6] <Silver Wish Disc
[1d6 = 6]
(Attempt initiated, General. Ten second delay before I get a result, I'll update you momentarily.)
>Jeff puts his pen away and hold the wish disc in his left hand as he brings up his TacPad to await a signal connection for the MOAB... hopefully.
"C'mon c'mon. Don't screw up on me."
>He already prepares himself for any immediate electronic mishaps: poor spawning from either position or height, the droque chute doesn't deploy... or worse the fins.
>Everything else, he leaves to fate.
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <M.Reaction Speed
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <M.Adrenaline Rush: Reaction Speed
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] B. Electronic Warfare Operator
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
Sunny Feathers
!SunnyxtS66
3b99a74
?
No.352197
1252328__safe_solo_rainbow+dash_cute_simple+background_vector_transparent+background_derpibooru+exclusive_-dot-svg+available_svg.png
>>352178
>>352180
>Sunny raised her eyebrow at the general as she listed off the second cruiser's readiness, then shook her head.
>Fifty more Support Strikers, better than zero, but not ideal. Probably for the best since they'd be running out of ground space otherwise.
"We'll make do with what we have, we have no other choice."
>She sensed a lot of mirth from the general when she was talking.
"Every little bit helps. Enough of this and we may not have to fight at all, wouldn't that be nice?"
>Wishful thinking.
>As the general left, her final words to her stung a bit.
"I'll settle for those here and now."

>>352196
>Stretching and standing up, she turned to leave back to Jeff as ordered. Keying the radio again.
*"Message conveyed, sir, you have a go, the unicorns and psions are prepared to shield our position. I'm returning to you now."*
>She broke out in a trot, then a full gallop back to Jeff's position.
>Just in time to 'hear' the general's voice sounding off in her head.
>It's go time.

[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] < E. Sprint
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
Natilda
!EnJhCCu3Ns
254f2b3
?
No.352200
>>352188
"Apology accepted!"
>Ignoring the sounds of Wild's external hull loudly protesting the abuse hurled into it, I guide Wild further towards shore while keeping her as stable as possible.
>Losing an arm may be unavoidable, but I was not going to lose her footing as well.
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] >E. Perception
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] >B. Riposte/ISTCM
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]

>Once I had a good view of the creature, I snarled and stared right at it.
"Get barbequed, bitch."
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] >Solstice Scorn, Fire
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] >Ice
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
Anonymous
a12ad9c
?
No.352207
Crown of the Ark Viper By Wyzar.png

Snowfall The Pred-Elk
The GM L.O.N.T
!!PYsGb3YilI
a12ad9c
?
No.352216
352218
>>352192

>Snowfall was afraid yet intrigued. Angry but charmed? Interested yet also disinterested by her attitude. She was everything a druid strives to be while also something to avoid becoming.
>She or rather, it, spoke of so much knowledge. Knowledge he should know about or try to learn.
>Lin also went on about life and death and the other wild Pred-Elks and what was so special about his family over his base kin. It went on and on and on and on and-
>Snowfall was not one for lengthy discussion or long debates, that did not mean he did not respond to others. But every time he was cut off from saying anything Lin made it apparent it did not matter to her what he even would of said.

>He snorted, sparks of electricity leaping off his copper antlers in annoyance.
>This was all a waste of time.
>His time, his finite time living out the first half of the cycle of life. He was supposed to be with his sisters by now, but instead he was being talked at by this...
>This..
>This nature incarnate parading around as whatever it was viewed as by others.
>He stood up.
>He was going to do something Oldhorn had taught him and his siblings to do. It was a simple method that had many applications and the Minotaur Druid had used it uncountable times in the past.
"One thing at a time."
>Snowfall plainly stated to Lin before hopping onto the edge of the fountain.
>He was going to the Clinic to check up on his sisters and share his stored electricity with them to make them feel better. To make them feel happy.
>Because although he was outwardly quiet he was as caring for his siblings as they were of him.
>Something he figured Lin did not have the capacity to do.
>Though...
>His ears rotated to where Lin was, or where he presumed she still was at.
"Siblings are in pain, if you can, please heal them."
>He gave it a head bow in respect for what she was, what she represented and the raw power that brought.
"Thank you."
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.352217
352231
>>352191
>Pursing his lips, but nodding at her admission he replies:
<Japoneighse>"I understand. I do not want to burden you with the weights of statecraft. I suppose it is just a warning for yourself and any who would listen that need to deal with humans. I do not have the means to formally address your Jade Princess."
>His eyes widen slightly in surprise as the sable mare offers his selections free of charge.
>He starts to bow before hearing Dul's interjection.
>Glancing towards her in surprise, he quickly turns back to face Rasera.
>He then bows deeply, clearly moved at the freely given artifacts and gifts.
<Japoneighse>"We are deeply grateful. Dul is only returning a favor in returning Spiral. She is hers alone."

>After gathering the wares, he turns halfway to look towards Dul asking:
"You can empower them? How big of a rock do you need?"
Razorback Fortress: The Fountain
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352218
>>352216
>Smiling at the disquiet, Lin's appearance ripples in pleased waves.
"That's right. You're standing here now, wondering, doing what a Pred-Elk should be doing: thinking. Testing. Trying. Learning."
>Setting a firm look towards the Clinic such a short distance from this place, the chin lifts.
"I taught Sparking Fleur self-control by showing her what she was. What do you think I'm teaching you? Remember the pit. Don't act like what you aren't. Be who and what you are, where you are."
>The figure makes a slight, conciliatory motion.
"Don't thank me. This time you helped them. The next time? Those consequences shouldn't be yours to deal with. That's what your brothers and sisters are for: to be with each other. Learn. Grow. Evolve. Repeat."
>Smiling again at the Moon, Lin sits back with a proud air, waving a hoof to usher Snowfall off.
"One day there might not be any hummingbirds left. They might be different, and so will I. You right now are different from pred-elk. That is what being one aspect of Nature's consciousness is: knowing everything we shouldn't. I cannot act against what I am. Neither can you."
[1d6 = 2] <Regrowth
Razorback Fortress: The Courtyard, Rasera's Tent
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
85283e7
?
No.352231
352244
>>352217
<Japoneighse> "I will share with clans that listen, perhaps knowledge will bind deep to a hopeful marely that will consider threats unseen to them."
>Head tipping right and eyes closing briefly, Rasera's apologetic inflection is sincere.
<Japoneighse> "My deepest apologies Otherworld-brother, I thought her submission to you was natural, not of her own... choices? Dismiss my words, I ask of you-"
>Right after speaking the Neighpon mare bites her lips hard with a rigid stare, struggling to laugh at her own expense rather than yours or Dul's.

>Looking down at her hooves, then up at the tent's interior roof, the Siren's head sways side to side for a bit, halting to grin.
"Crin big-big stupid so.. Dul need big-big-big rock, make magic not-stupid.
>Purification of Planar influences similar to what Spiral had been capable of... except horribly translated and probably inefficient.
>Standing up to motion at her saddle, Dul nods three times quickly with a grin.
"Dul put stupid chains on big-big-big rock, deliver not-weak not-stupid feathers for you! Dul ask small Remnants for rock ponies no touch!"
Clemency
!UbatCJ0.6s
6b058ed
?
No.352238
>>352178

>Clemency looks over the Fortress, impressed by how surprising easy it is to control a helicopter and the sight of the Fortress mobilizing to the front
>Clemency thought to himself, wherever Hollow is, he'll try to take care of his pride and joy
>Hearing Bren say she is mobilizing all of her resources made Clem give a mental cheer
>"Hell yes! Those fortifications will stave off the Tainted tide."
>He keeps the Kiowa in holding pattern until he hears the radio transmission from the ground
>Memories of air traffic and aviation communication returns to him in a heartbeat
*"Copy, coming in for a landing, bearing 000."
>Heading from the north, Clem positions himself over the translocation stone and lands the Kiowa onto it
>After touching down, he realizes he still has the Milkor in his pack with the grenades
>He got too caught up in flying that he forgot about it
>Clemency thinks about it and decides to jury rig a bag
>Waiting until he translocates to the other side, he attempts to find a heavy-duty bag in the Kiowa and stuff the MGL and grenades for it inside
>He then uses some rope and ties a smoke grenade to it
>Once done, Clem goes back to the controls and takes off from the stone
>Back in the Village, Clem hails Jeff on the radio
*"Jeff, this is Clemency. I'm airborne and have your MGL. Where do you want me to drop it?"*
>Waiting for a response, Clemency flies over the forming fortifications and defensive lines
>Scanning the lines and using the helmet HUD to find the location of the greatest mass of Tainted, he is interrupted by a mare's voice
>One that is calming to listen to, which only makes Clem more generally focused on the situation
>"The plan hinges around the manabombs and Support Strikers beginning the volley. Lots of HVTs found and six and a half armies. This is going to be a long night..."
>Clemency begins a holding pattern over the defensive lines and continues scanning for the Tainted masses and Tainted bogeys
>He then hails the present Razorback personnel
*"Razorback QRF. This is Clemency. I'll support the front but keep me updated on evolving situations."*
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.352244
>>352231
>Pareidolia furrows his brow in confusion at Dul's translation.
"Understood... we can address that at the Enclave, if this process is as you describe."

>Noticing Rasera's distress, he turns back to face her and waves a gloved hand in dismissal.
<Japoneighse>"Offense was not your intention so there is nothing for me to hold against you. It was of no concern. Be at ease."
>Ensuring everything is accounted for, he then continues.
<Japoneighse>"My thanks for these gifts. Your generous spirit is more than we deserve. Your assistance and forthrightness will be remembered."
>He offers a brief bow before moving to depart her tent and drop off the heavy staves he had been carrying in the rear compartment of Lonestar's IFV.

>Afterwards, he would head to the Enclave to see what could be done to purify the box of Crin Feathers, and allow Dul to assess which Planar weapons she would be proficient in utilizing starting with the Riftdrowner.
Pareidolia
!!0/zxd4nxRI
425d9df
?
No.352270
New Thread
>https://mlpol.net/mlpol/352263
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