/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

>>371071
('Fine by me. Should the opportunity arise, I'll reposition myself from the rear line.')
>The unicorns that were keeping the gates open for them finally get dismissed. Some of them could barely stand up... sit down, drop with some decorum. Some were definitely passed out.
>They were fried out. Plopping on the ground sounded pretty nice right about now...
('Great job, everypony. You all deserve a good rest. Wish the rest of us luck!')

>As the forward line ponies start forming defensive wedges around each Razorback member, he starts listening on the reports coming back in through the other side of the gateway.
>Only the local fauna seemed to have been giving them trouble. Mostly big lizards and water skimmers.
('So no Constructs, just the locals. Would perimeter scouts even be that far out, if they were active?')

>A little lesson on how most predators hunted in the Moors with the whole bioelectricity spiel was a nice reminder. He remembers being told it when he started visiting and going to inspect more rural areas of the region. He's gotten real comfy with the Underdark, since them.
('The local fauna probably won't care if we have to deal with Constructs or a Riftseeker on top of the their riff-raff either.')
>He's had good luck never bumping into anything while in the Void. He also used to have a Diver around his neck, which he's sure discouraged anything from getting withing pouncing distance.
>All the ponies here not Lunar or Moor natives may as well put dinner bells around their necks.
>The Crystals are practically bug zappers.
>...
>Might be a good idea.
('Suppose we break off anypony that can make the slip and form up into ambush parties and flank whatever we're coming up against. The majority will be too much of a distraction for anything to mind the ambushers.')

>>371078
>He focuses in on some newbies start making comments about their exhausted yet oddly refreshed states.
>Clear headedness, the voices disappearing- no. It was never voices. More of a wordless suggestion.
>The ponies, MOST of them take notice of the conversation. With concerned interest.
>Jeff idly shifts the Gepard on his shoulder upon being addressed.
>Might as well get his two bit outs in the air.
('Does taking up Fortress Administrator count as something I wouldn't normally do? Then yes, hnn hnn.')
>The light sarcasm was palatable.
('All serious newbie, yeah... Chalk it up to whatever you feel like picking: We've got Spiral's demi still technically flowing through the Fortress. Silver USED to invade my personal space, can't say the same for anyone else. We have a camp full of druidic Pred-Elks. A cave full of questionable mushrooms and our only human psion in a perpetual said-mushroom induced coma. Along with other inhabitants and visitors that can possibly influence us on the regular. What else... honestly wouldn't be surprised if the Fortress is haunted at this point. There's the Graveyard up North, and I swear we've had ghosts and phantoms harass us on more than one occasion. Whatever it is it never feels malicious, hell seems it tries to keep our noses clean. I haven't ever looked into it formally. I'm usually so busy pushing papers I forget about it. When I DO have free time, I come to the Village cuz it's chill and... like you mentioned... leaving the Fortress clears my head too. It's nice someone else has mentioned it, honestly.)
>He takes in the reaction of other humans to look for more that feel the same, and ponies that would be giving him a strange look.
('I swear we're not crazy. With all the weird stuff that has happened in and around the Fortress, I wouldn't even know what to place bits on it being. If anyone else feels this way can come to the Batcave and voice their concerns later. I'll gladly have it formally looked into. Let's focus on whatever we're about to step into, for now.')

>>370080
>After giving Lejura a little wave of his fingers, although the mare was already deeply asleep, he looks to Nova sympathetically.
"A veces we must risk harm in order to save a patient. Much against the oath of 'do no harm' we take. Hehe, you would be surprised the shit you can pull off when properly motivated. Have you ever been told to save a patient at all cost... at gunpoint? One gets real creativo and desperate."
>Nodding at her conclusion, he waves his pen from his notepad for a chime-in.
"I have written down the time of initial dosage and written down an observación schedule. If you don't, I will."
>Hearing the operating door open, Carlos shakes his head along with Nova's own shortcomings.
"Is this Old Horn in the Fortress now? Could we get his asistencia?"

>As Nova starts with an Astra, she stops herself. Burnout? They cast some sort of electrical magic, he remembers the deal with them was.
"I recall they have an afinidad for lightning, no? An overuse should be treated the same as a unicorn then."
>One non-critical out of the way. That left a Blume Gale and Sparkling Fleur. The second sounding worse than the first.
>The second Pred-Elk was clearly bandaged for a severe head injury.
>The third was still in a stasis spell. Fleur, with her untreated spinal wounds only made sense.
"Almost two hours? Impresionante. Perhaps she had a boost from a second party. Either way, it is buying us infinidad tiempo."
>As the unicorn passes the disc over Fluer, the talk of multiple severe spinal injuries were nothing but hairlines and minor tissue damage. And going off of the mare's bewildered expression, there was a large gap of what she had originally diagnosed.
>Carlos taps his pen to his chin, largely estimating the amount of time between initial injuries and now.
>Nova checks over her notes to confirm her initial prognosis.
"This Old Horn must have instilled quite the agresivo regenerative factor. Fleur should be fully healed by... mañana? Seniorita Gale is probably far better off, también. Si, I will give Seniorita Fleur a once-over."
>As his equine colleague attempts to locate Tipper, Carlos takes aformentioned mare's disc and looks over the Pred-Elks spinal wounds.
>Elk: cervus genus. Though not equine, they should be close enough for reference.
>He falls back on basic biology fundamentals and body structure. Moreover, curious to see if he could even see the regeneration in action under the x-ray spell.
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]<M.Perception
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]<M.Research: Surgical Analysis
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]<Teacher: Biology
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]

>>371067
>Right forehoof in the air, the processes weaving the pieces together slow to a crawl, then stop.
"I.."
>Stone faced for a few seconds, the earth mare's shoulders lift in a ehavy motion, swiveling the chair and eyeing the nearly completed coat.
"Sorry, no idea what Argenta's clothing styles are like. Used to be, one second-"
>Tilting backwards and looking right into a suite of clothing stands, racks, mannequins, along with a few marenequins, Lann returns to watch the last layers and strings finish tying below the collar.
"Mmm, did have have a couple extra formal suits but those are missing. Probably on loan. Last one I made was for... Fuoco a couple nights back. There's a human fit blue and red winter cloak on the table behind you that might fit though, go ahead and take if you want.
Can take your measurements for future reference, too."
>Forehooves lifting and spread apart, several gestures are made, the coat is directed, on a green cloud of energy no less, onto the table behind her, passing a hopeful smile your way.
"Most ponies on Tallus either know somepony with good Common Equestrian, so probably better to visit a place and ask locals for advice. Here it's mostly Lunar colors and camouflage."
>Six heavy rolls of colored silks raise behind her, swiveling about to direct at least a hundred varying sized needles, rings, spools, and a pair of familiar triangular weaving spindles, rapidly creating a lightly glowing, fairly sheer sheet.
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <M.Seamstress
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <Crafting Kit
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12] <Sewing Kit

>>371074
>The soul-glyph registers such glee from Naliyna that it speculated she particularly enjoys messing with the younger Amethyst Frost-Rose.
>Not of out spite, however it didn't know why the Storm-Rose herdname, or a specific individual from the same, was held in deep contempt by Amerose herself.

"You had best be aware, for all our sakes and those of Razorback. I don't have a month to explain how deep the various holes are, which ones to try filling in, cover, or leave alone."
>Staring up and left quickly, an open expression of severe irritation is made before Lark focuses downwards, the coin reading his motions and words as genuinely concerned.
>For you.
"Numerous ponies in Stalliongrad have detected two humans somehow carrying and surviving through remarkable levels of Plasma-corruption. Kraut and.. 'Filth'. Such an apt name. Neither were present at the Auction but that raises a few more concerns. Are both dead or is that another set of accounts to attempt closing?"
>The glyph pulses at the first name in respect, the second causing it to express waves of sincere disgust.
>Stock still, Stream Lark's eyebrows raising several degrees angrily, then gives a dark, furiously rolling chuckle.
"I had been hoping a human would harm her, just once, then Razorback might have realized how painfully stupid their actions are. The retaliation we've been yearning for would have been most pleasant to witness.
But no, it took some blasted Gryphoness wearing a corrupted Late Dynasty armor to wound her-"
>Eyes closing, the older stallion takes a deep, slow inhale, releasing it to the side, splaying his left forehoof out in a 'oh well' motion, the right lifting his tea cup...
>To down it.
>You make a note to keep him out of informal gatherings, and at least a mile away from tea drinkers.
>Setting the cup down, the Councilierge leans forwards, extending his right hoof to you, multitudes of past desires burning anew on his face.
"Then we either begin immediately, or relocate to a safer place for this attempt at reconciliation. While I'm glad for the Crystal Imperials being here, they're best against organic targets, unicorns, Psions, Constructs, and certain Elemarentals. Other threats.. not so much."

>>370949
>I can only hope she doesn't go insane.
>Insaner.

>She doesn't get it and I'm not helping her understand.
>:3
"Hey, that just means either one of us is wrong. Not too bad for the moment."
"Will you need me to get up there later to help with that?"
>I took a moment to study the mini map.
"Right. Like I said, we'll contact them once we can get moving at more than a limp for you."

>>370951
>Ivan would listen to his explanation, nodding along.
"Similar but less barbaric to what we've also done. Serfdom and indentured servitude. Serfs were usually tied to a plot of land and not to the owner itself, while indentured servants were 'owned' for a period of time while working off some sort of debt. Colonizing peoples tended to do this with richer people in exchange for a free ride across an ocean and a new life after a few years."
>He kept down a bemused snort.
"Unlike humans, where you could go across a border and have to exchange your money for a new type or else not be able to purchase anything."
>He would nod again, making another note to ensure the majority of his borrowing would be in gems.
>Definitely borrowing.
"If you believe your opponent to be lazy, you lower your guard. Easier to exploit."

>>352291
>>370080
>>371091
>Having nosed the Clinic doors open Snowfall looked inside to see if anypony was around.
>His ears flicked in surprise as his timing was perfect, despite the odd detour by Lin. He caught Nova and a human examining his sisters.
>He cleared his throat.
"Hello Nova Flicker and...Carlos, correct? I hope my arrival isn't interrupting a delicate moment with your patients?"
>Asked the Pred-Elk. His voice soft so not to disturb the the sleeping patients.
"If not may I come in? I want to give my sisters a quick zap to cheer them up."
>He said as he indicated with a foreleg knee towards his antlers. They were pressed against the doors to the clinic and made clicking sounds at the slightest movements of his head.

>>371092
>José curtly nodded at Lann's offer.
"I might as well take my measuremarents while I'm here."
>His eyes scanned the cluttered workshop for a bit, trying to find a spot where she could do such a thing.
"Should I go ahead and strip down for you, miss Lann?"

>>371061
"A mistake any of us could have made."
>An echo of Shiibo's words from earlier traces across the Room, Hodch's mane bristles reflexively as he glancing back past you with a scowl, returning to his rummaging among the scraps in renewed interest.
('..she better not have stepped on my bed. I made contact contact with the Flawed versions Spiral acquired numerous times, inert and inactive until the.. demonstration. Far better containmarent procedures than the majority of Dynasty relics, which was surprising.
The possibilities of contamination exist, though investigation will have to wait until one can be obtained.')
"To the first question: there's a good chance of that, yes, though Dynastic language can't be read, only extrapolated from. Or guessed at. Resonances last for a variable period depending on intensity and less than twenty Dragons aided Silver's efforts. The few that did were shunned, labelled as outcasts.. ..the 'worst offenders' were banished back to their Otherworlds, Planes, or Extra-Planar states. Getting off track, I know.
Among the various Temples, researchers, and Orders, too marely species contributed and we barely had time to take fifty, possibly sixty records. Finding a living descendant of those that created or were involved with a specific Project is unlikely. Even if they wanted to admit as much, they will never talk to us.
To the second, I can't even imagine how one could be removed, safely or otherwise. Consider possible repercussions and consequences like this: you've met the Acid batpony, Crystal pony, and Void unicorn forms. Despite the inherent problematic natures of being directly Elemarental-aligned, they were.. are, distinct individuals in all meanings of that word.
I believe each one expanded from whole subsets of Spiral to become individuals, occupying specific roles or niches with relevant knowledge of the same. I've seen nothing to disprove that. Reversing that would require total knowledge compression into a single individual. That is... unimaginable."
>Pausing to collect his thoughts, and slipping aside several flat discs of partially unstable Lightning in a gas-plasma state, Hodch snorts in fond recall.
"After recovering from what happened at Canterlot College of Magic, he disappeared to the Underground for a few months, then returned with hundreds of recently produced, utterly safe bound spells. Held an morning impromptu class at the front doors, showing how Dynasty adherents were able to safely mix contrary, directionally opposing, or directly opposing Elemarentals and Planar energetics.
Imagine Water and Lightning fused into solid, non-forced states, or Dominion and Earth. Magma and Nature. Void and Plasma. Stunned everypony senseless, myself included. When those are joined one should always expect a catastrophic detonation, but no, he was playing with them as foals would their beloved toys.
By the way, Ethereal will only join with crystalline objects and resonances, Rime, Ice, and, rarely, Water.
Those were not the only changes. He was able to perfectly read, speak, write, and understand all Dynastic languages. Not only that, he could clarify the extended hidden, double, and triple meanings too, even their shortened forms.
Enchantmarent creation, strengthening, and modification is a difficult science even to those that specialize in it, yet he was able to perform those with barely a thought. Once I watched all of the forms synchronize and fully restore a badly damaged heatstone.
Then I had no time to consider any implications. Now? Regrets keep piling higher."

>Waking from their dormant states, the furnace, force, and anvil's aspects exert their pressures, aligning yours and filling the Room's craft-space with subtle inspiration.
>Speaking abroad from a distant peak on Tallus, the Storm King's words open:
"The first hallowed act? To consider. To think. Without thought, there is no plan or possible creation."
>Before, current, and future observers of physicality, energy, concept, or alike watch on as you reach both hands out, devising rationally applied scientific fundamentals to logic-sided components and reasonable Tallus-Planar derivatives to hold the shape.
>Tracing outlines of the weapon's grip, casing, body, trigger, guard, and barrel in states that could not decay here, they form, held not in stasis but as an unfinished work.
"The second hallowed act? To shape and compose. Without understanding the measures or methods, a definition is unobtainable."
>Deciding upon the mechanisms that would exist, defining their meanings into specific functions, then the purpose each was to perform, the internals take shape under your will and guidance.
>Recreating the original design was not possible without assistance, thus compromises would be necessary: acquiring a graviton required access to the Elemarental Plane of Gravity, one of their mostly tightly held resources.
>The best option became one of simple honor: a careful, gradual beckoning of those on Tallus outside their home Plane.
>Clarifying shape into similar structures, it would resonate agreeably towards the intended particle; not to capture, instead to grant an eventual delivery.

>Removed from pure physicality, as you study the barely functioning result with untrained physical hands, your eyes at least comprehended: what you had offered to it was not enough.
>There was neither laughter nor mocking, only the gap between what is, and what will be.
"The third hallowed act is to repair and refine. The best is imperfect no matter the skill, materials, or time expended. An object cannot be final when the flaws remain uncorrected.
When the result does exceed the expectation, the work is complete."

>>371108
>Watching the sheet for ten seconds, the chunky mare swivels back, a small box on right side of her desk opening, two small, glowing green spheres float out and begin orbiting you.
"No need, these are accurate enough for anything that isn't super essential. Plus, I'm taken-"
>Flashing a lopsided smile, the pair make several passes as Lann lifts a suspiciously human military styled crate filled with thread spools, setting it down on the corner and peering in.
"Best part about magic is never needing to write stuff down. Unless it's really important!"
>Setting out all darker colors across the desk, then dropping the crate off, her head turns while the spheres return to their box.
"And done! I'll start on winter clothing for you in half an hour or so. Want extra pockets, pouches, holster or any other custom details? If so let me know, tonight might not be too bad but the weather shield isn't working anymore."
>Head turning, her right forehoof lifts, stopping the needles halfway through what was.. starting to look more like a net.
"Oh for the love o- why do they keep doing this?"
>Right hoof meeting pockmarked snout, Lann releases a harsh, rumbling sigh, waving her other as the implemarents begin unfucking the mess.
"My kits aren't perfect but that's the tenth time tonight.."
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15] <M.Seamstress
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14] <Crafting Kit
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <Sewing Kit

>>371100
"Then try it for yourself, Mom."
>A freshly refurbished repair tendril sweeps ahead of the cabin, presenting a small cube of iridescent, bright orange metal.
>Even five meters away you could taste, and smell, inexplicably harsh sensations:
>This fraction of the Sun's own existence was carefully removed from an innermost state of existence, brought onto Tallus primarily to protect, though was capable of committing honorable aggression if required.
>It did not like you, and particularly hated Wild Ride.
>Removing the offensive cube quickly, the small caricature stares at you neutrally from the screen.
"Do you still object to throwing them away, or must I continue being scourged and berated for merely existing when I did not have a say in the matter?"

>Reviewing the schematic of what used to be her head unit, mini-Wild points out ten half-sphere, half-square shapes shapes in the lower section of slagged remains.
>Four marked in green for minimal or no damage, one in light red for moderate damage, four black for severe damage or destroyed, last two in blue for unknown, antennae flicking angrily.
"Those are the ones I've been able to locate, other five are presumed lost or destroyed. Not sure which is worse. There is another complication, removing the surrounding debris without damaging these ones-"
>Circling the red and two greens.
"Wwill be difficult. I can't guarantee they're intact, and separating materials for reprocessing is slow."
>Splitting the left screen, schematic on the left side and map to the right, mini-Wild appears at the map table's opposite side, arms folded.
"Replacements and replacemarents in progress."
>If the map notations and coordinates were correct, the current location was roughly 30 miles from where the Assault Lander had been located, though Wild's route had been straight south from there, then east.
>The closest Ferron Outpost was from 45 to 48 miles east and 1/4 mile north, listed as seasonally occupied from spring to fall.

"She's resisting?"
>Harsh tones accompany a disproportionate number of grinding, strained metal-on-metal, the cartoon version disappearing while her internal speakers emit a massively static laden voice.
"You pathetic, WORTHLESS, USELESS, cowardly, BRAINDEAD SPINELESS CUNT! When I track down the entrance to your fucking micro-world there will be a reckoning not even That Which Cannot Be Named could IMAGINE!"
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Sensory Node #2: Basis Engineering Study
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Sensory Node #3: Basic Engineering Study
[1d6+14 = (4+14) = 18] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (1+13) = 14]
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19]
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE GAMES BITCH, WHERE ARE YOU?! STOP HIDING!"
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Arcanum Sensors Array
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Omni-Sensor Array
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]

>>371091
"No, but that requires the question of: was such a response absolutely necessary, or merely required by an individual? I am no stranger to threats-"
>Flipping back a page for study, then forwards with a pen to write several lines, Nova Flicker's expression had gone from calm to near-enraged, but subdued enough to warrant as recalling a particularly nasty situation.
"After all, a perfected Rime Shatterspike-infused blade is most capable at preventing the tongues of idiot ponies from moving again while assuring utmost dedication to saving a life. Violence is one possible solution when a patient matters far more than one hybrid's reputation.. noted down but I am quite tired, and the daytime humans are not particularly efficient.
And no, Old Horn's presence is quite far from here. I do not accept nor will I like Druids, they are irrational, obsessive, and of ill omaren at the best of times. His last visit was a month or so prior, and-"
>Glancing up at the crystalline spell above her head warping in several directions at once, she dismisses it with a flat scowl.
"I cannot sense my dam. She was east of here for some time, then nothing, as if somepony threw her into an intact Late Dynasty Warp Gate. Tipper is no longer on Tallus. I will search for her later-"

>Setting the notepad down and glancing over Brume Gale, the Ward floats a plastic case to her, opening it for a look.
"Heightened Lightning and Earth attunemarents as a result of their copper bodily parts. Partially physical and mostly magical in origin, technically immune to electricity but can be easily overloaded.
For the first, less than a pegasus and roughly equal to a unicorn expert. For the second, far less than an earth pony, and worse than a unicorn at basic capabilities."
>Setting the case down, Nova's ears flatten, motioning towards the still stable inspection spell.
"She once stated it has extremely tight, specific limitations which cannot be bypassed, and that sharing more would be regarded as an act of supreme hostility. The fact it still functions is troubling on marely levels."

>Moving the disc into position over Sparking Fleur's spine, as Carlos inspects the null-active stasis, it was apparent that causality had been violated: ripples of extreme energetic fracture-stress indicated perforations in the, technically, inviolable field.
>What had been significant fractures, tears, rips, and trauma through vertebrae, ribs, tendon, cartilage, muscles, fat, nervous system, and all other tissues had either been spontaneously or forcefully regenerated to a pre-recovered state, all without breaking stasis or alarming the extraordinarily energy-sensitive Ward's perception.
>Comparing against the natural equine, human, Minotaur, Dragon, and several other species' healing capabilities, upon judging the injuries, an event had definitely occurred which wasn't technologically, magically, or technically possible.

"You see them as well, I take it."
>Left forehoof on the stasis field, Nova's eyes were dimmed, though watching Carlos in true multitasker focus, voice low and tightly wound.
"Modifying an iota of biological material while a patient is in permarenent stasis is not normal in the slightest. Princess Cadenza is incapable of doing so, let alone Wards or healers of every type.
Not even the 'thing' I should not be thinking of can attempt as much without risking a lethal temporal backlash, which would destroy it's immortality fully.
Doctor, if you would examine Brume, I am attempting to locate a potential intruder-"
[1d6 = 3] <Calming Presence: Rage
[1d6 = 2] <Calming Presence: Time
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Vile Taunt
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <Deflect Magic
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <M.Casting: Auric Search
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]

>>371102
>Tasting fragile, thickening aggression pouring out through the Clinic's interior walls, Snowfall realizes this was deeefinitely not the best time..
"So long as you leave when I demarend, you may stay. My auric field is close to snapping and I cannot allow more in the Clinic.
There are a number of concerns with Fleur and Brume's injuries that require them to be isolated. For one... nevermind, I do not have time to explain. You may aid Astral Poinsettia at leisure, she is not injured, merely resting."

>>371110
>As he works, his lips behind his helmet press together in a grim line.
>Hodch's elaboration was leaving it increasingly clear that Spiral was long beyond the grasp of most any currently living experts.
>He sends a final thought through the Moonstone, the disgust in his tone audible.
('... Then either Spiral found a miracle he needed others to help him reach, or only Silver can answer for her mistake now.')

>Remaining silent, he turns to focus on his efforts to fabricate something similar to the weapon he saw in his mind and repeats the prior process to hone the work.
>The voice in his head, presumably the voice of the Plane itself extols a particular set of virtues.
(Value alignment to the scientific method is... acceptable. So long as my objective can be accomplished, I can tolerate this level of involvement. I lack the time and resources to evaluate a Class designation for this Plane however so I can't fully acquiesce. Whatever your final objective is.)

[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]< Expert Small Arms + Skill Specializations (A.R.T/E.P.C.) + Shifted GCS FINA
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]< Extra Roll Shifted GCS FINA
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]< Expert Small Arms cont. + Skill Specializations (A.R.T/E.P.C.) + Master FINA
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]< Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]< Graduate Researcher + Skill Specialization (M.E.CC.T.)
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]

>>371111
>Gallo let out a soft, rather excited little coo as the spheres orbited around him.
>He had to admit Lann was right.
>Specially with this little show they were doing.
"I wonder when this world will stop surprising me."
>Blinking softly for a few seconds to refocus on the question, he soon checked his current clothing for a bit.
"I wouldn't mind having as many pockets and pouches as fashion allows. They're always great."
>Having said that with an amicable smile, the man went pensive for a bit.
"May I inquire as to what a weather shield is? Is that a common piece of technology for heavily populated areas? Speaking of weather, should I consider a winter coat if I plan to visit Argenta?"

>>371112
>Cringing from the sudden assault upon my own sanity, I immediately understood where she was coming from.
>I didn't know metal could hate something.
"... How the fuck does anything even work in this place?"
>I shake my head and sigh a bit.
"If you can't shield it from doing... that, then yes, go ahead and drop it."
>..
"And if I had known that did... that, I wouldn't have said to keep it without reason. I apologize."

>Focusing back on a more reasonable idea, I shake away the ick from that experience.
"I see, will there be anything I would be able to do?"
>At the very least, poke my head in and see what's still functional.

>Aaaand she is definitely not sane.
>I don't want to attempt to even rationalize this one.

>>371078
>Looking around the herd abashed, Clemency looks down at Blackthorn
(First of all, it's not uncommon to refer to possessions as a female. Second, before Blackthorn became what she is, it was a SPAS-12, a regular shotgun that we might have a spare laying around.")
>Blackthorn doesn't even resemble what a SPAS-12 was before
>Bulky but ergonomic
>And fits like a glove

>Keeping his head high and continue to wrangle, he squeezes into formation with the five mares designated as his bodyguards
>They can probably coordinate with him if combat erupts
>Hearing Blackthorn being spoken to is new though
>Wonder if it can respond to others

>Going through the portal, Clemency sees the renewed focus of the Razorback Company
>Even his mind starts to sharpen through the physical exhaustion
>But their discussion of the effects is weird
>Brow furrowed in thought, Clem rubs his chin
("Well, I would normally call that willpower and intuition. As for hearing shit back at the Fortress, I'm surprised I can still hear since I'm with Twisted.")
>Clemency starts to pull up the M-S.O.L.G. interface to position the the camera on top of their formation and have it track them
("Actual answer rook is that I haven't put too much thought into it. I did feel much better mentally when I go flying with Twisted or drink but I would think that's just me.")

>>371114
>The reminiscing of his old life flash more as an amusing anecdote now.
"Hehe, the best medical education cartels could buy assured I would only treat the most dangerous of men. When it wasn't the caballeros themselves, it was some bendejo underling who thought they could... persuade me into treating the imposible. A fallen esse or hermano, riddles with bullet wounds. Massive drug overdoses. Illegal risky surgeries. And what do I do?"
>He taps his pen against his notebook to keep her attention, before cracking the right side of his doctor's coat to reveal his holstered 1911.
"I treat the sick and injured to the best of my habilidades. The bendejos... I show them the way out, if they know what's good for them. Hehe."
>His short retelling is quickly stifled by Nova not being able to sense Tipper. At all. As in she wasn't even on Tallus anymore.
>He smacks his forehead in mild befuddlement as the coincidence of losing the Clinic's head doctor and in the most literal way.
"Aye dios mio, what a night. We are still here, afortunadamente. The patients come first, with or without Abuela Tipper."

>Carlos listens diligently to the mare's explanation of Old Horn's Pred Elk. Copper infused right into their bodies.
"A naturally high conductividad. They almost act like a capacitor. Store too much electricity, and they overload themselves. Hmm..."
>Changing the subject to Tipper's everlasting spell, Carlos raises an eyebrow.
"A fine tuned spell, indeed. But for it to last this long on its own.. it's a wonder she did not burn herself out just from casting it alone."

>Observing what little he could find of bodily injury to the Pred Elk Fleur, he spots severe injuries that had healed considerably.
>Through stasis, no less. Narcolepsy aside, Miss Flicker would have picked up on such rapid changes through the field.
"Whatever force allowed it either is defeating or ignoring the nature of the stasis field. I have not much else to add to such a phenomenon. An intrusa? Aye..."
>Carlos looks around warily, but ultimately more focused on the patients. The Ward can handle the matter while he inspects Brume Gale.
"Si, of course."
>He takes the disc spell from Flicker and pans it over to Brume Gale's head injuries. He's expecting more miraculous regeneration, unless Fleur and Gale's situations are not related.
>The injuries are more important: sheared antler, concussion, eye damage. All other symptoms were congruent. He would still check for any signs of skull fracturing, especially around the orbital socket, as well was any brain bleeds.
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]<M.Perception
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]<M.Research: Surgical Analysis
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]<Teacher: Biology
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]

>>371102
>While he was inspecting Gale, a noise of the Clinic's door peeking open caused him to glance over.
>Another Pred Elk, a male going by its build and vocal tones. NOT the intruder Nova was attempting to flush out.
>The Ward gives the Pred Elk a pass for now, and Carlos ushers the visitor over with a hurried wave of his free hand and a hushed tone.
"Rapido, rapido! Seniorita Flicker is on the hunt, so to speak. Si, I am Carlos. What may I call you, senior?"
>He focuses back onto Blume Gale through the inspection spell, pointing to Poinsettia, then to Fleur, and Gale last.
"As mentioned previa. Miss Poinsettia appears to be burnt out, she is resting. Miss Fleur DID have severe spinal fractures and tissue injuries, but they are not only rapidly healing they are defeating the propiedades of a stasis field to do so. Blume Gale shattered an antler, and should have serious cranial injuries along with that. I am examining her, now. Is your kind capable of such spell-breaking regeneration?"
>Carlos, notepad at the ready, begins to take anything down worth mentioned by the fourth Pred Elk as well as continue documenting Gale's current prognosis.

>>371114
>>371126
>He really wanted to give a boost to Sparking and Gale, they were the ones that needed it most.
>His tail and ears wiggled in annoyance. His timing...
"I will return for the other two at a later date, thank you Nova."
>Snowfall entered the clinic at the behest of Carlos, his antlers clattering loud as he passed through the doors.

>Carlos was certainly not like the others humans Snowfall has observed. It was a pastime of his to watch humans go about their daily lives from a vantage point, usually his herds Treehouse. There was a part of him that is human, so naturally he would pay attention to any human that caught his eye. And Carlos already has.
"My name is Snowfall, Carlos."
>He indicated the best he could with his head to his body.
"Named after my coat."

>Snowfall slowly trots over to Astrals' bed so not to make more noise than he has already.
"She is lucky to be alive, as are we."
>He said quietly as he came to a stop next to one unconscious sister as he looked with sympathy at the others.
"No we do not. Not even Oldhorn can do that. However-"
>He turned his head towards the door, a small smile forming on his neutral expression.
"A powerful being calling itself Lin is possibly responsible. I asked if she could help my sisters, it appears she has done so."

>>371101
"Curious. Serfi, if that is the correct word, are free to perform any tasks for their mistress, or master, until their debt has been repaid. Afterwards they have all rights to stay with, becoming a retainer, part of the herd, or leave, though their time must be compensated for.
I have listened to a fair amount of human history, some of it bothers me but that particular point is especially difficult. One would never hear of a batpony Colony and think ill of it."
>Hefting the boxpack onto Krinza's anvil, twenty small, near-black discs floating from the back wall Helping placing forehooves on each and melding them into the titanium frame, horn surrounded in blazing metallic rings.
"Excluding the paranoid or hyper-suspicious-"
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <E.Crafting
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <E.Enchanting
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <E.Smith
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <Eidetic Fundamarentals

"There are some regions where Bits either cannot be used, or have been devalued: Neighsia, Argenta's Lands, Eyeraq, Rushya, the Free Ram Flocks of Ewerup to name the most important ones that I can recall. Ba'athens is questionable but I have heard little from them. The rest have severed their economies from Equestria and aggressively denied or refused all trade for the past two years.
What we call the Fallen Dynasty is, supposedly, a number of small city-states between the No Mare's Land of the Eastern New Everfree and the Gryphon Kingdoms. The Dynasty Remnants of Caneighdia is the entire permafrost lands south of the Crystal Empire Lowlands. Both should be avoided at all costs.
Everywhere else has an exchange ratio that depends on economy and importance compared to what Equestria trades, however, the Bit has lost considerable value."
>Setting the pack down to scrutinize each of the magnets, Helping turns an annoyed stare up, the giant coldstone brightening at a firm gesture, now drawing in heat.
"Strange. It should not have taken this long to work properly.. well.
It is certain that Moorites are generally lazy for twenty-nine hours and thirty minutes per cycle. What makes them distinct is the potential for a half hour of frenzied, often suicidal aggression, combined with highly destructive natural, Elemarental, Void, semi-Eldritch, among worse, bombs, weapons, and armors.
Only three factions have enough excellent equipmarent to equip every single pony in a certain domain. Fewer still are able to source and completely fill an entire battalion in a single night.
In any case, being assaulted by a thousand batponies is thus either utterly horrifying due to their armamarents... or utterly terrifying due to their other armamarents."
>Snorting at the triple-entendre, Helping then nods towards Lann's growing collection of tables, marenequins, and clothing racks.
"I have overheard the hoof-touching pair discussing the Central Moors now has approximately two hundred newish Armories, five times that number of garrison-depots, and ten times the previous of purely storage depots.
A batpony which does not have an immediate use for an item will place it in the first safe place the object fits. If they cannot think of a long term use or does not feel like trading it, said item will be sorted out by tradesmares in their Creche or Colony. Eventually. Lann has already expressed great joy at the thoughts of rare silks coming in more frequently."

>>371116
"When you stop being surprised of course!"
>Snickering as she sorts through spools, collecting a few that looked distinctively metallic before pausing, head tilting left as her ears twitch around in circles.
"Do have a few custom designs.. there's one that can take six, eight, or ten armored containers for bottles, small bombs, canisters, grenades, canister grenades, that sort. Maybe twelve if they're not big. Size is sort of adjustable thanks to a springy material Krinza figured out how to make. Can be moved around without much trouble too.
Pockets are weatherproof and seal tight after closing; eight large, six medium, ten small, four tiny. Internal pockets are the same: four large, six medium, eight small, ten tiny. Also can attach armored magazine racks so long as I know the size and shape."
>Right hoof pointing out to the side, numerous sheets of thin, possibly synthetic materials lift out of a large crate, placed down on her desk for a close inspection.
"Mm? It's a solid energy shield that keeps snow, rain, sleet, hail, lightning, small meteors, ash, and pretty much everything else solid or semisolid from getting in. Or out, sometimes. They usually don't have a particular Elemarental attuning, and barely do anything against temperature changes.
And, no, they're super rare since the Dynasty fell apart. Biggest and oldest one is in the Crystal Empire, their crystalline bio.. tech.. stuff makes it work. That one's huge though, never seen it but heard it can protect the whole City-State for months on end.
Some places in Saddle Arabia and Neighsia have weathershields too, but only for small, important, or rich towns."
>Swiveling around once more to watch the sheet being corrected, mostly, Lann's ears fold backwards, her tone slightly annoyed as she pushes the chair back.
"Don't know much about Argenta, sorry. They stopped trading with Equestria some time back. Again, take that cloak if you want."
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <M.Seamstress
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Crafting Kit
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Sewing Kit

"Have some business that badly needs taken care of right now, after that I'll start on a coat and heavy pants for you-"
>Hopping off, and landing much more heavily than expected, the chunky mare's head bends forwards to inspect inspect every millimeter of stone floor under her.
>Lifting to stare at the floor in her vicinity, then outwards, she pauses, turning heavily to face east and breaking into an incredible pounding sprint.
>Bright, gold-tinged outlines of a partially round doorway appear, the mare slamming headfirst into it, shouting quite angrily-
"I DON'T KNOW OR CARE WHAT YOU ARE BUT YOU WILL STOP MESSING WITH MY WORK!"
[1d6 = 3] <ENRAGE
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Shattered Earth
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <E.Sprint
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15] <M.Assault
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
>vs:
[1d6 = 6] <oh shit

>>371139
>José snorted in amusement in tandem with Lann's snicker, nodding along with her various explanations for his questions.
>So apparently, he could have 56 pockets for various items and there's some super rare weather protection technology that's been discontinued due to The Dynasty fell apart.
>Sheesh, how more loaded can these nuggets of information can get?

>As he took the winter garments offered by Lann, Gallo's eyes widened as his body instinctively shifted sideways to properly assess just what had set her off.
>He really shouldn't interfere with what seemed to be some extraplanar business that he was ill equipped for
>...or should he?
>Maybe this is normal for Tallus residents?
>Worst case scenario, Lann can probably take care of herself judging by the powerful display of physical aptitude.
>Relaxing back into a proper standing pose, he'd gently walk over to the doorway frame currently being banged by a mare's head.
>Of course, he'd avoid being directly behind Lann just in case her anger may be directed towards him out of a vague recollection on real life horse lessons he had when he was younger.
(Let's see where this goes.)

>>371138
"Indentured servants didn't exactly stick around, though they did usually end up continuing to work for the contract holder after it expired, if they were paying well enough."
>Ivan held his hand up and shook it in an 'eh' motion.
"During colonial times, it was pretty cheap to purchase land or even pre-built places to live, so they could afford to do so."
>He decidedly left out the fact that often, native peoples were fucked over by land purchases.

"I won't deny that I am... quite familiar with the idea of money being useless."
>He glanced off to the side.
"I was a part of a faction that was... selectively collective. No need for money, sharing supplies with each other when able to."
>Grimacing behind his helmet, he looked back to Helping.
"I left them after... an unknown amount of time passed, and helped reform Clear Sky to what it exists today as."

>>371088
>Providing neither information nor helpful protocols on how to be an escortee, the Assault Vanguards each make a slight, rear leg extending motion, acknowledging they would ensure your safety.
('We're all soaked in lather right now, wouldn't be fun.')
('Bet you wouldn't mi-')
('This. Isn't. The. Time. After a nice, LONG, FREEZING shower or bath, possibly. Right now, not a chance.')
('How come the batponies here aren't attracting creatures like all of us are?')
('You're serious?')
('Yyyyes? Yes., I am')
('They've adapted to live here, are highly Void attuned, and most creatures know where there's one batpony, there's at least a hundred more out of sight.')
('Yes. So?')
('You really are dense..')
('I know, thanks!')
('Why do I bother...')

>Finally able to start moving, the ranks ahead enter a short two-hoofsteps per second speed, roughly two hundred ahead at four hooves per second.. which was a reasonable 3MPH march in human standards.
>Surveying through the moderate fog, outside nearly hot equine and human armors the surrounding swamp and marsh were still save for tiny ripples on surface water.
>Knowing how often threats were either submerged or lurked in Void spectrums, the thermal wasn't picking up anything out of place that you could tell.
>Half-sunken logs at the edge of vision had been abandoned within the past few minutes, mostly by hot blooded imprints which were barely faded.
>Other than solid hoofboots on stone, clanks, clinks, or clacks from armor, weapons clattering against the same, this part of the Central Moors had been quickly abandoned by smaller creatures, leaving the larger ones in potentially better positions.
>That is, if there weren't a thousand Psions or far more Crystal Empire forces keeping watch.

>Attention focused on the surroundings, the Rookie's quintet of Assault Vanguard urge him, politely, to speak again.
('Okay. something like I'm about to reach out and grab some jackass's drink to toss in his face, but there's a neutral individual watching me. It doesn't talk out loud, or in my head, doesn't make any physical motions, and isn't looking at me, but I can feel it dissuading me from screwing up.')
('Is it more being guided into a proper act, or trying to correct you from committing a mistake?')
('Definitely the first.')
>Taking position before the first scout rifle carrier enters, the lead Shieldmare hrm's internally, motioning for the One Hundred to accompaneigh her.
('Have you been subjected to guilt or shame during the times you have experienced such?')
('Nope. Like being told: you're better than that, this isn't the right way, or being petty is beneath you, but I'm not being spoken down to or chided either.')
>Gazing upon the wide variety of Crystal forces, then focusing on you with a twinge of consideration, the leadmare's snout twitches.
('Perhaps you have acquired a nature akin to theirs.. or your teacher ingrained certain aspects of her training.')

('Why is this place such a mess?!')
('Threats?')
('Five giant insects-')
('Five DEAD giant insects. Moving the bodies now.')
('Huh, Impact Seals work really well here.')
('Eewwww it's all over me!')
('Don't think I've ever seen insides become outsides that fast. You three, remove the pieces and wash her armor off.')
('Anypony know these?')
('Long antennae, flat body sections, highly streamlined, quick to mareneuver in water. Triangular head, forty hooves long, twenty-five hooves tall or so. Full insect, predatory. Front claws covered in spines, not serrations or blade-like. No wings.. I think. Thin carapace, durable but not against a standard lance.')
('Large swamp rippers, related to mantidae, not common. Any unusual features?')
('Does nearly pissing myself when something the size of a Minotaur can jump out of water without making more than a few tiny ripples happen to count?')
('I'll.. take that as a no.')
('No discernible acids, toxins, or Elemarentals. Clean, so to speak. And not liked.')

>>371175
(Puta. Too slow)
>Gallo let out a soft sigh, clearly overestimating the time window to act due to his careful hubris.
>It looked like Lann was winning thankfully, and it seemed it wasn't the first time this fight happened.
>Something about it felt awfully wrong though.
>Did that extraplanar being really deserve such a punishmarent?

>Shaking his head at his thought process halted, José opted to exit the Workshop with the spare coat on his shoulder.
>Turning around to face the door with a pensive hum, he quickly decided to trot over to the Bulletin Board to fetch some writing supplies.
>A couple post-it notes and a pen if possible. Otherwise, he can improvise.
>Following that, he'd come back to write down a simple message on the front door:
'Miss Lann is currently out.'
>Afterwards, he'd go back inside and write another message:
'Miss Lann. When you come back from your extraplanar beatdown, please remove the note outside."

>Having done that, he soon focused up on his plan to travel to Argenta.
>Thus, unless somehow Lann pops up before he started or just when he finished, he'd soon walk over to where the Remant was to promptly ask for travel advice towards his intended destination.

>>371090
>Risking a headache to stare at the closed down gateway, one of the darker robed Luna's Villager's gives a batpony-eating-lemons facial scrunch before flopping over heavily.
"Your face might get stuck that way if you stay here for long."
"..wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen."

>Dissecting reports through the Charger and Lancer chains of commarend, the leadmare sends a request outwards for psions and unicorns to inform Crystal ponies of their findings, one of the Lunar Combat Support unicorns in the front ranks thinks aloud.
('Do you mean the Kee-Chain, a long distance communication network? They have been delivering messages up and down the vines since we arrived. However, I cannot understand the language.')
('Mostly warnings to stay on Basin Arena road, point out critters in vicinity to us, close down towers, that sort. Batponies won't ever join an Overherd but they all know Common so we're getting news way ahead of time.')
('Is this Kee-Chain the most efficient thing batponies have?')
>Deadpan choruses of yes's from earth pony and unicorn Lunars absolutely obliterate the young Day Guard mare's notions of complete solidarity, the Assault Vanguard's leader snorting loudly.
('If you were expecting them to say anything else, I have a copy of the series on batpony songs and poems from the 28,600's that might be of cultural interest to you.')
('Oh? What are they about?')
('What are the five acts batponies are best known for? Here's a hint: the last one is well over ninety percent of what they wrote.')
('Wellll... sleeping, making friends, eating, setting up pranks, and... ....oh.')
('Now do you understand?')
('Wish I didn't.')

>Turning a concerned Mind's Eye at you, the leadmare exits into the garrison-depot's realspace, taking a younger Operator with her as five more Councilierge Assault Vanguards form around the man.
('There are approximately sixteen thousand ponies and humans here, large numbers would cause vast ripples throughout Void spectrums and potentially disrupt Gravity.')
('What the Shieldmare means to say is: better to deal with the limited physical threats than the other possible or potential ones. Bes-')
('SNAAAAAAKE!')
('KILLITKILLITKILLITKILLIT-')
('STOP SMACKING IT IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE THE HEART IS YOU IDIOTS! SEVER THE HEAD!')
('Or deliver enough concussions to knock it out, which is an acceptable use for Impact Seals and Shattering Spheres.')
('.......squeamish, paranoid, and highly excitable mares excluded. There isn't much that could deter all of us.')
>Desiring nothing more than stuffing her armor with a dozen Superior coldstones, another Lunar unicorn figuratively checks off the majority of fauna and flora.
('Of the known threats here, individual floral, faunal, or hybrid predators, small numbers of medium to extra large predators, variable sized swarms, are the most common. As well, there are no more Abominations, Malformed, Discontent, Unspoken, or.. Tainted, among others. A few hooves worth of megafauna remain, those we would notice quickly, same for the Eldtrich and Plane-touched.')

>Receiving stark acknowledgements from the Operators around you, particularly from One Hundreds, nearly forty awake, and most importantly coherent, Villagers weigh their own experiences in the Fortress.
('Been saying there's something new for weeks now.')
('The Copper Predatory-Elk are not full Druids, nor do they have capabilities which match the given descriptions.')
('I can guarantee Hollow and those Changelings that visit are likewise not responsible.')
('We've seen Hodch and Mercy out talking to walls or empty air a few times, who knows what they've seen.')
('Ehhh, those two don't like sharing certain topics. If they don't say something then it's best to leave 'em alone.')
('Those are not ghosts. I think.. I hope.')
('Ghosts are fine, Spectrals are not. Overall we've dealt with maybe.. ten in and around the Fortress.')
('Hmph, that silverine skinned whore of a horse was most troublesome, but, she would not have taken such a quiet approach. It is profoundly amazing that most of Razorback was able to tolerate her idiotic presence often as they did. Then again it is equally remarkable she is not here.')
('You've met her?')
('Several times, each worse than the previous.')
>Wishing he could distance himself from Lunar volatility, the Assault Vanguard's lead stallion rolls the new information across Solar and Stalliongrad earth pony minds for their considerations, more than a hundred studying the remaining Operators until an older, retired Villager quiets the rest.
('Do you mean Spiral Disclosure? The Reclusive Marquis of Canterlot Underground?')
('Yes, that's him all right. With us for a while.')
('No one or pony knows where he went. Why?')
('Went off range a while back, hasn't returned since.')
('I'm.. not sure. Head hurts, give me a few minutes to think.')

>The mixed Guard in Basin Village achieve an equilibrium, passing through the gateways more rapidly while ranks ahead of the garrison-depot settle into a standard march.
>Numbers rapidly filling ten lines, the Shieldmare notes the entirety of Crystal forces had entered, issuing an order for all remaining Razorback and Councilierge to do the same as the Ethereal Golem stomps past her, frowning at the Ethereal's tinged presence.
('I will never enjoy that sensation.. form properly once you have arrived.')

('Leadmare, this must be corrected. Immediately.')
('What?')
>Turning around to face the gateways, the Shieldmare's helmet cocks as the Villager's thoughts section from the Overherd, jerking back wide eyed.
('What? Why?! You can't expect me t-')
('You will perform what I have instructed or there will be repercussions. All Lunars disconnect now-')
('Damn you! I am sorry to do this but-')
>Reality is wrenched aside briefly as the Overherd is forced to blink, wiping out two previous seconds of memory, the leadmare's tone bitter.
('Do not question what I was.. forced to remove.')

>>371125
>Blinking at two seconds of memory being wiped from your recall, the Assault Vanguard's leader issues orders for the rest of his battalion rest to form around the last Operators entering gateways.
('Similar conventions.. not what I meant, though there are at least three of that model or similar among Stalliongrad's humans.
Rather, what was the specific Construct component that joined with your weapon to become what she is now? Symbiotic weapons are incredibly rare since they're usually prioritized for destruction first. That doesn't include Riftdrowners as they're technically flora and tend to be.. less troublesome.')

>Surrounded by hundreds of Guard mares, in lines no less, that weren't posing a threat, for once, joining the march west in warm, overly humid Moors air was a bit too familiar, though the sense of Lunars disconnecting from the Overherd, then being reconnected was odd.
>The wide stone pathway ahead was partially lit by gleaming Crystal ponies, unicorns, and Minotaurs interspersed by Guard; definitely the same route you'd taken before, though far safer now.
('Hm, prolonged close proximity to Enchained hasn't been studied, but that particular burnt feather scent is known fairly much everywhere in Equestria. Half of my herd knows it.')
('Or if it has then nopony's shared that knowledge-')
>Quelling that argumarent, the Assault Vanguard's leader rolls his eyes, focusing on you through the five mares surrounding, their helmets turn to regard you with interest.
>At least not in dangerous mareners.
('You have a number of peculiar energy-dense enchantmarents in your possession Master Clemency. One faint taste of blood, Lunar physicals and energetics, something acrid. Those we don't recognize, except the Moon Orb.
Blackhorn is distinct but there's.. another Construct piece. Incredibly deep impressions of pain and regret. Solid, hard, difficult to place. A few crystal resonances, one is familiar though I can't tell why.
Hm. Perhaps being with the Burning General and having a wide variety of enchantmarents is protecting you. Or more.. ..I have no damned idea, it's too hot to think straight in this helmet-')
('I dunno, some of us hang around Twisted and Clem every night. Least until we need ear plugs-')
('If that was the case most of us wouldn't have been feeling whatever's in the Fortress.')
('My collection of enchants is wilder than what flyboy has so that isn't right either. Not bragging or dissing man, just stating facts.')
('Like you really needed one of every Element-')
('I did! Kind of.')
('Then only two of Razorback have not experienced unusual activity, both of which.. no? That's wrong too, a number of you have Empire weapons, armor, devices, and resonances. This isn't making sense-')
('Only common links between Lont and Clem I can think of: they deal with Twisted a lot, been to the Empire more often than most of us, and they have a few crystalline things.')
('Uh, dude? Pay attention some time, the same can be stated for probably a quarter of us.')
('Then I'm at a loss and speculating more won't help.')

>Taking the line's rear with his own guards, the Assault Vanguard eyes the ponies, humans, and Minotaurs marching west, souring at the Minor Champion escorting the Shieldmare ahead, then nods towards the remaining unicorns in Basin Village.
('We're the last ones. Close the gates down mares, you've done amazingly well.')
>Faint, half-hearted marental cheers from themselves are briefly overwhelmed by sincere outpourings of praise and gratitude from Lunar, Solar, and Watch Guard alike, before severing from the Overherd.

>Reorienting from the trio of Constructs and colossal gateway atop Basin Arena eastwards, thick fog and sparse cloud cover hid most of the road, though you note the top of a small, tree-like tower.
>Passing over it... of course there were ponies sprawled across the top.
>The next tower was a common pegasi version, taller though barely seen, while the third was entirely hidden.
>Finally spotting the front most ranks of fast marching Day Guard, easily picked out by their armor, then individual Crystal ponies, unicorns, or Minotaurs, the Night, Lunar, and Watch Guard were much harder to make out.
>Lead elemarents rotating out on contact with threats, dealing with short assaults, being scrubbed down, and foraging, it was clear the combined forces weren't going to be impeded easily, if at all.
>Unable to find where you were precisely, the sheer number of Kingdom, Imperial, and other aligned forces throughout the ten rows was certainly unusual, and striking.

>Shifting their lances to point straight upwards and reforming, one ahead, one left and right at close proximity, two behind spread apart in a half-meter interval, the five heavily armored earth mares match your pace.
('Fog and mist here normal for this time of night and year?')
('Think so. Just keep your Mind's Eyes looking outwards.')
>Sharing a single thought, that being not one pony had offered their saddle already, the youngest mare starts to snicker, then cuts off that thought at a report from the front.

('There's a big pink something or other coming at us. Not crystalline or Ethereal, feels strange but I think we sa-')
('DON'T ENGAGE, THAT IS A... JUST DON'T ENGAGE!')
('That's Mercy all right-')
('Is there a particular reason most of you are afraid of her?')
('About fifty REALLY FUCKING SHARP reasons!')
('I can think of FOUR that we've been trampled by-')
('You have no idea what that mare can do when she's irritated, be glad for that.')
('...understood.')
>Overherd's attention focusing through the leading squad's eyes, and several Mind's Eyes, the Spirit Walker's searing presence exits from a heavily distorted Void spectrum, landing in the road's center with a loud huff.
>Raising both wings in a strange marener, to some ponies at least, marener, the more Hegemony inclined denote it as an honor circle, pink wingblades fluoresce brightly, her weapon symbiote missing.
"I will not allow a single individual to pass."
"...what."

>>371184
>Jeff mentally chuckles to himself as the Day Guard's mind is bombarded with the causality of batponies. The Kee-Chain was known to him, and he's heard more than enough songs sung throughout the Village to know EXACTLY what they meant.

>So they will just all stick together then. From the scouting reports, safety in numbers was the best tactic they could have right now.
>Sixteen thousand plus should be a safe number, hopefully.
('There better NOT be any more Tainted roaming around, at least. Not after what we just had to bear witness to... we must have put every last one to rest.')

>As a quintet of Vanguards form up on him, the rear line finally passes through the Gateway into the other part of the Moors. Already into a slow march, welp fast enough trudging through the Moors as it would.
>Each strange habit and resident of Razorback was quickly dismissed, or mildly questioned.
('Didn't say I knew everything that goes on the the Fortress. Just spit-balling.')
>He didn't even mention the indestructible vegetarian burrito...
>Jeff checks their position on his TacPad to see how far away they were from the Basin Arena. He kept a marker on it, considering the relay's position there.
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <TacPad: GPS

>An odd sensation courses over him. Something disappeared, but he doesn't know what.
>Did everything just taste like-
>He feels like it was his fault.
>And that he should just drop it.
>Yepp. That worked for him, considering their current situation.

>>371185
>As their march continues underway, the Overherd focuses on an object closing in on them.
>Big pink something. Was it Mercy?
>Yupp, it was Mercy.
>She must have flown all the way from the Arena.
>And she was alone. Where was Sunny? Did something happen to the newbie pegasus? She didn't come off as a strong flier as Mercy was, or more of a flier anyway..
>Huh. Her symbiote was missing. Something happen with the Constructs, or Riftseeker?
>Landing, she splays her wings as if to block their advance, clearly exhausted getting to them a quick as possible.
>He directs his thoughts to the leadmare up front.
('She must have rushed all the way from the Arena to intercept us. We should listen and yield to her.')
>Jeff then focuses on Mercy, mentally and physically waving at her from the rear line.
('Mercy, I'm all the way in the back. Are you okay? Where's Sunny?')
>Making sure her well being was alright, he gets down to the brass tacks of the situation.
('We've already discussed the possibility of either fighting the Planar Constructs, the Riftseeker, or neither. Just tell us what to do.')
>He remembers she was already shaken from initially arriving at the Village, and then the symbiote merging with her. Regardless, he trusts her judgment of the situation.

>>371089
>Forelegs raised and rear legs extended, the Construct leans forwards, flapping once and skimming above the road, the motions thoroughly equine yet modified to obtain minimum air resistance.
>Thinking back to the smashed multi-legged insect and recalling it as a rare acidic variety of hunting centipede, the amount of damage the Construct had taken was far worse than if a pony had done so.
>Eyeing the intact, perfectly restored front hooves, you realize the symbiote's armored false-shell was highly vulnerable due to being incredibly thin, barely equivalent to common sheet metal.
>While incapable of absorbing damage compared to its bonded state, if sensations of pain were simulated it wouldn't expend unnecessary energy to display as much, let alone care for restoring itself unless there was a strong self-preservation instinct.
>This version was either mimicking a specific individual or had been formed through a sincere, strong connection.
>Not only could it experience emotion, it was feeling the strain of functioning beyond normally expected capabilities and capacities.
>The blind mare shares her spiritual connection and unsubtle rationale with Tallus to the Rift Plane's raw physicality and brute force logic, each covering the weaknesses of the other.
>Live or die, it did not need to protect Mercy, rather it had a single desire: to exist alongside her as a partner, no more or less.
>Outside those few currently bonded with a symbiote, none would try to understand, fewer would attempt to, and, without fail, the majority WILL treat Mercy as a direct threat.
>You try to think of a single pony that would RATIONALLY accept the knowledge.. it was a tiny few.
>The wrong word would easily cut that number by half.

>Right wingclaws splaying out and shaking in a polite dismissing motion, then presenting an overlay of a barely Euclidean landscape, marsh analogue land masses covered in Riftdrowner sections.
>A miniature version of itself creeps into view, extending a hoof out to touch highly viscous, heavy metallic liquid.
>The Rift Plane was not a mirror of Tallus. It was, is, and will remain a reflection seen at whichever skewed angle the viewer's perspective was placed.
>Shutting the scene down with a heavy flap as you enter a flat out running pace, its head shakes before pointing forwards:
>Fractures of open Void on both sides of the road stretch into swamps and bogs, streaks of jet black armored batponies water-skimming in pairs.
>Your mane bristles defensively at tinges of glowing Eldritch-touched weapons leaving raw, long trails of warped colors behind them.
>Hunter-Killers, considered by marecenaries all across Tallus to be the least fanatic.. of the fanatic Moorites, second best conversationalists, fifth most lewd, though vastly more prone to aggressive bartering.
>Not paying attention to the road, you, or the symbiotic Construct, instead searching for and brutally eliminating every possible nuisance, the path ahead is streaked with blood, ichor, chitin chunks, scales, severed heads of small insects.. and worse.
>A ringing, sharp up-up-down whistle reverberates on water from the north, the Hunter-Killer pairs snap upwards with heavy wing buffers, rolling over to streak in that direction.
[1d2000 = 801] <Central Moors Threat

>Pearlescent eyes gleaming, the Construct's head turns to study each one as long as possible, the expression melancholy.. and etched with guilt.
[1d6 = 1] <???
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Construct Realspace Scanning Protocols
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]

>>371191
>Sunny gazed pensively at the construct, just observing it was providing her a great deal of insight. Though not enough to be certain, that would require more invasive examination. Deconstruction, analysis, accessing and interpreting its programming medium. All things she doubted it would allow, nor would Mercy.
>The uncertain nature of its emotive displays alone posed ethical issues with doing so as well.
>Rationally speaking, understanding construct motives and mediums was of paramount importance to her in the long term. Yet it had, seemingly, stabilised Mercy and kept her from experiencing a breakdown, as Mercy was a near irreplaceable Razorback asset, that gave it much more value than as a mere subject of study. Thus her short term goals were better served by leaving it be, and even preventing further damage and possible destruction.
>She was careful to present no outward indication of her thoughts, no speech, no body language, no twitch of the ears, no ruffle of the wings, no bunching of her muscular outside her movement, no cold glares. Perfect, practiced neutrality. She couldn't be sure how well, or how deeply it could predict the intentions of others having learned from Mercy, and did not want it to perceive her as an imminent threat.
>It was highly vulnerable to physical damage. If its psychological match with Mercy extended to combat capabilities, it was reasonable to assume that it was optimised for ranged combat, lacking physical resilience by simple design. A weakness and role that would be covered by Mercy's capabilities. If it saw no other choice in pursuing its goal, or directive, or desire, it would and had engaged in melee, even if it was just stomping on a bug. In theory.
>Therefore it was following its general directive, but with a less than optimal strategy to avoid damage to itself, perhaps thinking any damage to her had to be avoided, even at cost to itself. That tracked with Mercy's recklessness, which she guessed that they might share, if for different reasons.
>Adjustment, then.

>Sunny slowed her place slightly and pulled out her... Never-you-mind-what-it-was-called Flask, showing it to the batstruct.
"Avoid further damage to yourself, even if it means allowing me to incur damage. I'm more resilient, and easier to repair with this. Reconvening with Mercy is best served by role division, utilise ranged combat only, I will distract on the ground."
>Turning her attention back to her surroundings, and with some mild concern at what the Hunter-Killers might do if they encountered the batstruct a little closer, Sunny noticed that the bat ponies had already been well at work all but slaughtering any and all potentially hostile wildlife in their path.
>Whoof. That wasn't good. Even predatorial creatures deserved to be left alone if they weren't actively hostile and could be avoided.
"And... Perhaps avoid their example, anything we can outrun or that isn't displaying an active interest doesn't need to neutralised."
>That was probably a short list in itself, but it needed to be said.

>>371181
>Exiting the Workshop and reaching the Bulletin Board without interruption, neither equine or human in view, it had been completely stripped.
>Only a single note was stuck in the center:
"DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ACQUIRE CONTRACTS OR ADD ANYTHING TO THESE BOARDS, UNDER THREAT OF ROUST BEING DROPPED ON YOU. FULLY KITTED OUT." -Bubba
>Locating dozens of pens and a single pad of the most hated multicolored Post-Its, cheap, weak glue backing, there was enough light from the structure's roof to write out both messages.
>Returning to the Workshop and affixing both onto the north entrance door, it takes a few seconds to recall the the building layout.

>Heading south between older above fairly standard above ground barracks and new underground barracks, the intensely lit up Pagoda was hard to miss.
>Passing by the bright yellow fountain's west side, it was quiet now, the fountain drained and no longer operating, unusual floral scents surrounding the area.
>Reaching the Pagoda's north entrance and stepping in, the mismatched couches were quite different compared to last night.
>The large, fluffy bright red couch to your immediate right was currently occupied by a visibly mid-60's, black cloth-suited pegasus mare lying on her right side, facing south.
>Muted sunglow mane and brittle, straight white coat could be Solar related, ears swiveling in your direction though not looking; judging by the easy going though typical high alert marecenary posture this one was approachable.
>Clasped in the pegasi's front legs is an unmoving, bright white pinniped likewise lying on its right side, jet black flippers and long whiskers prominent, either sleeping or making no attempt to move.
>Right of the southern entrance/exit is the trade stall you recall well from last night, and seated on a low couch directly behind a dark wood trader's table is a visibly appealing, though cold-blooded young mare:
>Half-transparent like Naliyna, the coat is a mixture of semi-glowing blue shades that change without rhyme or rhythm in starburst patterns, the mane and tail are peculiar, rolling selections of light and dark fuchsia.
>Esoteric, starburst patterned scars that didn't match human weapons, or any explosive you could think of, feature prominently across the Crystal mare's chest, an unusual burn starting above the right eye, ending in the center of the same ear.
>Brightly fluorescing fuchsia eyes shift from the white pegasus on to you, an uncomfortable, possibly dangerous examination, volatile emotions flicker before relenting to a stiff, formal expression.
>Left forehoof lifting and tapping the trade table in an unsubtle 'come in' motion, the voice a low, agreeably rolling chime, respectful yet not welcoming.
"If you're looking for my dam, Naliyna, or her stallion, Thrill, they haven't returned from wherever they went. No idea where they've gone, or most of Razorback for that matter.
And I don't do paperwork unless its vital."
>The pegasi mare's head swivels around, two hard, piercing yellow eyes settling on you, studying up and down three times in no-nonsense-allowed patterns.
>Speaking in an aerily carefree, tired voice that, shockingly, couldn't be more than late 20's, or early 30's at worst, her left black cloth covered wing raises in greeting.
"Don't recognize you but hello all the same. Shanis of Tartarus Isle, humans love calling me the Marecenary Queen and sometimes Big Bitch-"
>Lips pulling back in reflective humor, her eyes flick right, then left back to you, head dipping in slight, respectful acknowledgemarent.
"Both are good. Also, insanely bored because I can't hoof out contracts, jobs, or 'other' work. Don't feel like getting crushed by a horse tonight. Or any other night."
>Leaning forwards several degrees, the Crystal mare's eyes squint, ears snapping around in circles before snorting in quiet, vaguely tense humor.
"That's rich coming from the mare that hires an entire companeigh's worth of Otherworld stallions every single night without fail. Why not trade her something valuable?"
"Don't push me you not-even-herded-yet pain on my teats, already tried that a few dozen times. Roust doesn't care for much other than food or stuff she can give to humans."
>Giving the Crystal mare a sharp, faux-derisive stare, the younger's eyes rolls as she looks away, Shanis turning a victorious, warm smile towards you.
"So, how can I help? ..IF I can help that is."

>>371115
('I can only pray the first is what we find. Or force into existence.')
>Heavily occupied with making final selections, Hodch's upbeat mood shifts into a mixture of disgruntled fact and cold-blooded, well controlled murderous intentions.
('Even if my knowledge turns out to be completely useless in the future I have no reason to lie now.
Four years ago my Order finally decided which plan would be activated should the Empress reappear or take an active role once more. The shortest version is this: we would kill her or be wiped out to the last.
Overwhelming her is, and I am stating this as a matter of ruthless efficiency, basic math formulae. Humans hate this term: acceptable losses. Ponies are equivalent yet we prefer to die knowing that our efforts shift the scales of justice by one millionth of a degree.
The maximum numerical losses to achieve a complete victory was fifty-nine thousand Discordite Destroyers, every Lunar-aligned pony capable of deploying a Grand Spell combined with those capable of Eldritch, Planar, Otherworld, Extra-Planar, and other capabilities were specifically selected. In total, sixty-eight thousand, two hundred and forty were expected.
Sufficient weaponry, armor, artifacts, and relics were stockpiled for centuries in the event of Silver's inevitable reappearance. In addition to acquiring, trading, recovering, producing, borrowing, and stealing in certain cases, we were fully prepared.. but now I have no idea where the rest of my Order is.
My apologies, it's close to Dawn and staying awake is far more difficult than ever. Nibbles has agreed not to mess with you, though Katyal will forever be a pain in the ass. She cannot respect orders or authority which have not been earned, but she does not cause harm without reason.
Sleep well when you can.')

>Drawing upon forgotten, barely remembered, genetic, conceptual, and ingrained knowledge, the Storm King's last, amused words intone across the Elemarental Plane of LIghtning's vastness.
"We consider the fourth act most hallowed: achieving principle of purpose. No matter how refined the skills of one may be, the superiority of materials, or the function of an object, existence wrongfully seeks perfection. A chase which does not end is inherently flawed.
Mortality must not be wasted; death must not be feared. Cherish what you have as I could not."
>Strict realizations filter through your logic-seeking thoughtforms, extending outwards to compare solely material sciences to Elemarental practicality.
>While specific requirements couldn't be bypassed or ignored, Lightning and Gravity were not bound by the same definitions your universe featured.
>Both had been persuaded to function interdependently in the past, and would do so once more.
>Eagerly.
>As the necessary definitions of this weapon's intended results align to your willing guidance, both hands firmly stretch out to finish this work.
>Modifying the Lightning Plane's rationale-based ideas of a ranged weapon, it would allow you to seek out and impress individual gravitons to be temporarily contained.
>Improving, reducing, and modifying individual components to hybrid standards, the processes flow, minutiae of how in favor of efficient redesigns that that wouldn't be out of place on Tallus, your home world, and this Plane.

>Stepping back from the anvil's solid nature, you knew what the prize in your hands was intended for, its purpose outlined, defined, repaired, and redefined to acceptable standards.
>Its principle was unfulfilled for now, but it had every right and reason to function properly.
>Honorably extolled in their use, furnace, forge, and tools each return to their waiting conceptual states or stasis.
>Over three-quarters of an hour on Tallus had passed; Dawn would soon arrive as the Solar Alicorn prepares to stride forth and collect her ponies once more.

>>371196
>With the empty Bulletin Board fresh in his mind, José let out a somewhat uneasy exhale as he entered the Pagoda.
>Even after being succinctly informed on the lack of veteran personnel, it was only now when he started to feel it.
>The fact the previously familiar face of Nalinya was absent might've been the biggest piece of evidence.
>Not to mention the blunt threats for trying to add any work-related items to where it should be their respective area.

>His train of thought was quickly derailed when the young Crystal mare beckoned him over as he subconsciously took in the scene, blinking a couple of times as he approached the serenly uncomfortable situation.
"Good morning, miss."
>He promptly gave the cold-blooded equine a curt bow and a small yet reserved smile.
>She must be Starglow.
>Following his greeting, he soon turned to Shanis with a more outgoing grin as he slightly loosened up his posture.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Shanis. I am José."
>He didn't quite get her sense of humor however, softly tilting his head.
>There was this curious gaze, like he'd ask why would she enjoy being crushed by horses, before taking a swift inhale and shelving it for more intriguing matters.
>Gently crouching to look at the currently held pinniped, his smile became warmer.
"For starters: Who's this fella you've got there?"

>>371177
>Lont hummed as he surveyed the marching armies surroundings. It appears they were truly safe from the usual flora and fauna of the Moors, 'safety in numbers' came to mind.
>The only thing to attack such a formidable force out here were either desperate, had nothing to lose or were insane.
>"Or a Rift Seeker."

>With no threats in sight Lont focused back to the quite odd discussion prompted by the FNG all the way back at the ass end of the army.
>It was certainly intriguing. Some hidden force influencing this newbie, and it was starting to sound like a certain pony that had an influence on him even from beyond the grave.
>Speaking of which.
('Both.')
>He said plainly to the Leadmare.
('Physically I am a bit more Crystalline than I used to be-')
>The muscles across his back spasmed as his wings flittered in place to punctuate his point.
(-And spiritually I have taken Her training to heart like a lance to my chest.')
>He smiled coyly at his own self referencing pun.
('Gentle, yet powerful.')

>>371184
>Lont blinked.
>Something was removed?
>As he marched along it slowly dawned on him what happened, and it made his eyes twitch in annoyance.
>Mindwiped. Again.
>Lont did not know what was "removed", and didn't press on the issue.
>Because by the sounds of it she did not wish to do it. He was just as bitter as her, being a victim of another mindwipe yet he did feel a pang of sympathy for the mare.
('I...Forgive you.')

>>371185
"Mercy?"
>The Operator muttered to himself, he was taken aback by her appearance here. It had been a hot minute since he last saw her.
>Seeing her through eyes other than his own was very odd yet he could tell she has been through the Ringer already.
('Okay.')
>He simply said, agreeing with the huffing and puffing white Pegasus that was certainly not in the mood to tolerate any passage.

>>371184
>Clemency, upon hearing about the various natural dangers of the Everfree, feels a bit glad he's put into a 16,000 strong formation
>Plus, he's a little amused with how the advance parties are meeting the local fauna and the operators talking about the...voices
("Too many things could cause it considering what we got at the Fortress. Again, we'll try to look into it...after a good sleep.")
>Speaking of which, Clemency shook his head for clarity
>It felt like he blanked out for a couple seconds
>It felt like a blind spot was put into his head
>Confused, he decides to let it be

>>371185
>Clemency hums to himself, trying to remember what the symbiote looked like before it attached
("Well it zoomed toward me as a sphere, turned into a bunch of guns before turning back into a sphere, took my shotgun, then she turned into Blackhorn.")
>As they were marching, he notices his entourage turning their heads to him
>He looks at everypony in turn
("Well, I do have a variety of enchants. That blood one was from that Vitriole Drake we killed, and a bunch is from relics. That one Construct piece you mentioned might be my Riftseeker plate.")
>The thought of being around an Enchained having an effect is a interesting
>But as the other Villagers said, the 'voice' phenomenon can't be from that
>Especially after he heard what the "rainbow" elemental enchant guy said
>Laying the matter to rest for now, he continues to keep pace with the march
>In the meantime, he takes not of the M-S.O.L.G's image
>Not too much is shown, cloud and fog obscuring most of the road
>Trying to adjust the camera, he finally gets a bead on the main host
>Deciding it's good enough, he leaves the image minimized and off to the side
>Hearing a snicker, Clemency was about to look around to the mares again until a report is hailed across the overherd
>"Mercy?"
>Haven't heard from her in a while
>Although, he did recall she was with a rookie pegasus
>But she was at the Arena when the Construct nonsense was happening
>He focuses with the leadmare and spots her
>He takes a good look at her since she's also supposed to have a symbiote as well but doesn't speak
>Her threat however brings some memories back
>For now, he keeps quiet and hopefully Jeff's plea makes her reconsider

>>371197
>The secret Hodch reveals is enonugh to make Pareidolia pause in his work.
(In truth, part of a grand contingency and a grim calculation. Now the context falls into place. That explains his skillset. Unclear where he found the impression humans hate acceptable losses. Human society is built and fueled by it in many forms, no matter the world.)
('I understand. I will when this equipment is finished.')

>Looking over the mental concept being presented to him in a semi-actualized form, he frowns.
(Miscalculation. The nature of electricity and gravity here is different to such a degree that design constraints are necessary. Anti-psionic performance has been overstated. Lack sufficient knowledge to apply more discriminatory methods. Best option would be to remove the property. Reduce the strain on the weapon's boundaries and improve performance.)
>Repeating the prior process of refinement, he modifies the idea to work towards a fully finished product while pondering the apparently late Storm King's words with some ambivalence.
(Unclear Class designation leaves me wary of agreeing with you. But it is clear there is some parallels in our scientific pursuit of truth. At least this concept provides some common ground.)

1d6+5]< Expert Small Arms + Skill Specializations (A.R.T) + Shifted GCS FINA
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]< Extra Roll Shifted GCS FINA
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]< Expert Small Arms cont. + Skill Specializations (A.R.T) + Master FINA
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]< Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]< Graduate Researcher + Skill Specialization (M.E.CC.T.)
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]

>>371210
Missing roll:
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]

>>371119
"If I understood how paladine functions I might be able to extrapolate a why. Relevant information on it should be in my primary datacores, though...."
>Mini-Wild gives a tired-at-this-damned-world electronic sigh, rubbing the sides of her head on screen with both hands.
"Reaching them will be a nightmare. Not the Alicorn, mind you. I'll retain the plate and cube unless the pain of being aware that I'm aware of knowing I'm aware becomes too much to hoofle or handle. Or I need to scream. A lot. Loudly."
>Staring at you without a single indication of sarcasm.
"Mom, that was one second of exposure. If it has the value I think it does, I will.. attempt to contain it. Later."

>A ladder is scribbled from the chest compartment to the remains of her head, then quickly erased, her left hand reaching down, palm flat in front of the opening.
>Pausing as her outer self loses EVERYTHING, incoherently at that, the caricature's antennae flatten.
"I'll lift you up to check. Replacements are sixty percent complete."
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Sensory Node #2: Basic Engineering Study
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Sensory Node #3: Basic Engineering Study
[1d6+14 = (4+14) = 18] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+15 = (5+15) = 20]
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18]
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16]
[1d6+20 = (1+20) = 21] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <RT-#2
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <RT-#3
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <RT-#4
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <RT-#5
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <RT-#6
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <RT-#7
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT-#8

>As her exterior screaming stops, the sole eye blinks.
"Finally. May have discovered the entity that's been fucking me over, I'll be looking for dissonant temporal-weave ripples near inhabited zones. Checking for local and regional movements-"
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Arcanum Sensor Array
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Omni-Sensor Arrays: Long Range Scans
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]

>>371172
>Skeptically eyeing the discs, Helping reaches out for a cluster of nails from a tin can on the windowsill next to Krinza's anvil, then proceeds to stick them onto each one, testing five times each before inspecting magnetic differentials.
"I have studied numerous scenarios where our version proved to be most beneficial. Among those lessons learned from the Middle Equestrian Era was a consensus that civil affairs must remain unmarenaged. The version you speak of is best left behind. Such will not occur here."
>Nope, he knew.
>Gazing to his left, at Spiral's untouched tables and forgeworks you notice, the pale green unicorn's face contorts furiously for a split-second before placing the nails back.
"He understands the troubles and quandaries humans face. I do not and that wounds me. Canterlot Underground was merely an often quieter place where he could commit to study and experimarentation whenever the desire struck. They shared all without regard. However, here-"
>Shifting to sit facing southwards, Helping reaches his left front hoof out to tap the table's edge.
"Is Spiral's home. No other place did he consider comforting save the visits of those ponies that brought their joys to share with him. Which he never spoke to us of, perhaps for the best.
Regardless, in his own words, humans were more acceptable to him for reasons which no longer matter now. Those days and nights are behind us all. For that alone I consider Razorback my kin as well.
Forgive me if it sounds like I do not fully comprehend your troubles. In full honesty, I do not. Despite the difficulties of species and wholly different thought process barriers, I am beginning to understand his.. 'excessive' protective nature towards Razorback."
>Stilled for a bit, he removes the boxpack and sets it towards you, speaks in a quiet, somewhat insulted tone.
"I am unsatisfied with these results. My knowledge and capabilities are greatly wanting, but so far as they have allowed this is complete. We should wait for Krinza to return for a proper inspec-"
>Streaks of lambent colors flood in through the shut doors, coalescing into a fairly ragged looking Krinza behind his furnace, tossing a selection of brightly colored metallic bars behind his anvil with an expression of unparalleled hatred.
"Excellent timing. Would you examine this for me? I fear a number of mistakes were made. Are the materials sufficient?"
"Of course. Yes, they are much more pure than I expected. But the prices are worse than Lishanki robbery-"
>Taking two steps forwards to lean over the box for a sniff, spinning it around to inspect each side, thunking the sides, top, and seams, then tapping each magnetic disc, the grandmaster smith nods several times, visibly impressed.
"No major flaws, solid construction, excellent concussive resistance. Your melding skills require a bit of fine tuning: reduce temperature when joining magnetic to non-magnetic materials by a factor of point-two. The slides-"
>Pulling each drawer out to full extension, slamming them shut, Krinza repeats the process twenty more times rapidly, ears flicking in proud motions.
"No scraping, screeching, grinding, or flaking. Most excellent! Ivan, this will require either dry or heavy mineral lubricant each week or so. If I recall this correctly.. load the belts top section facing left and right, then I will try it on you."
>Horn lighting in dull silver patterns, the two ammunition belts are floated from the table behind you, coiled into the slideouts, top snaking over the bottom, shut, opened, repeated five more times, then finally closed.
>Unicorn OCD was good.. in some cases.
"One moment please-"
>Lifting the pack and rotating it around behind you, the magnetic discs thunk into the Exoskeleton's rear plating, which you don't even feel, then slides the ammunition drawers out, finding them to be easily accessible with either hand.
>Severe diagrams of arithmetic appearing above his head and brightening to sharp gold patterns, Krinza pulls the box off, holding it at short distance, which thunks back on again.
>Eyes squinting and glancing upwards, the yellow stallion's lips pull back in a thinly impressed smile.
"If these are indicative of her acquiremarent capabilities then I rescind all of my previous words.. except for two.
Ivan, you have full magnetic control over the system. Simply think 'remove', 'drop', or a similar term, or phrase, and it will do so. Unfortunately there are no more Float cores or Crystal Empire devices to prevent the box from landing. Likewise, there are no ponies with significant Gravity alignmarent or attunemarent in Razorback. At least that I know of."

>>371199
>Physically uncoiling, and subsequently brightening several degrees, the younger Crystal mare's lips curl back in an almost sinister, yet brutally earnest smile.
"A welcoming Dusk to you. May you feel the Night well. Starglow Remostrine, youngest of Naliyna Remostrine."
>While that was an honest greeting, the unusual responses held a number of specific disconnects that you couldn't place.

"José, huh? That's similar to a few Argentum's Lands naming conventions. The most common meaning is the ho-"
>Giving a loudly ringing snort, Shanis reclines into the couch, putting on a welcoming grin as she suppresses an obvious snickering fit, cheeks creasing in a few dozen degrees of deciousness.
"Let me just say you shouldn't use THAT part of your name unless you want to be aggressive approached by sexually eager mares, understood?"
>Dipping her head briefly, the winter suited mare pats her left hoof above the left flipper.
"You mean this incredibly soft and snuggly sweetheart?"
>The seal's head turns and lifts to regard you, a heart-burning warm smile breaks across the feminine face, whiskers twitching several times amusingly.
>Left flipper raising to hold in place, presumably for a proper greeting, an unusually young, sweetly toned voice rolls from the pinniped, speaking in perfect, unaccented Common.
"Hello Sehr Chosay. I'm Nao, formal Liasion for the Greater Polar Seal Colonies, that is, until I am asked to represent my species' return elsewhere. It is wonderful to meet you."

>Starglow bends forwards heavily on the couch, right forehoof over her mouth, almost as if trying to prevent herself from puking as she mutters in dimly cheerful notes.
"Every damn time.."

>>371213
"It sounds like a much more efficient version, I won't attempt to deny that."
>Ivan wouldn't participate in the system, but he couldn't deny it was a lot more appealing than Serfdom back home.
>Ivan didn't mind that Helping did not fully understand his experience, and envied him for such.
"It is probably for the best that you do not. The only ones who would, would have also gone through the same, or very similar experiences on their own worlds."
>Ivan would have said something about it looking good enough to him, but was silenced before he could begin by Krinza returning.
>Getting up to follow Krinza over, Ivan would watch as he methodically looked over Helping's work.
>He could appreciate a thorough inspection of his future gear by someone more experienced.
>Noting down 'heavy mineral/dry lubricant' on his PDA, he would put it away again to refocus on the two ponies.
"Weightless. Good."
>He'd twist his torso a bit after Krinza allowed the box to latch to his back again, checking his flexible he would be.
"That's a lot more useful than the potential of fumbling with hard to see straps in a firefight."

>>371214
>Trakkel was not exaggerating when it came to Starglow, it seems.
>Vague attempts at hypotheses came and went in José mind, ultiamtely leading him to be confused on what to take from it.
>For now, keep his interactions formal and short.
"Likewise, miss Remonstrine. José Gallo."
>Even while kneeling down in front of the cutest little creature he has seen yet, he exuded heightened elegance specifically for Starglow.
>She seems to like stoic gentlemen.
>Maybe.

>Once again, Gallo found himself grasping at straws as to what Shanis tried to warn him about.
"I will keep this in mind, miss Shanis. If you wish, you may call me mister Gallo instead."
>Now to focus on the biggest twist he couldn't have expected.
>An actual, honest to Celestia diplomatic asset harboring the body of the most diabetes-inducing creature he's seen so far.
>Giving Nao a gentle hold of his flipper for a bit, he couldn't help but to smile warmly and even let out a little chuckle.
"Greetings, miss Nao. My name's José Gallo. May I inquire further about your role as a liasion?"

>>371187
('No Tainted remain in the Central Moors, that I can assure us all.')
>Tasting rather than sensing a bitterly angered stare from a mid-40's Canterlotlian Day Guard mare in close proximity, the Overherd twitches at her harsh response.
('There are certainly some remaining in an Old location. Of course, Razorback knows nothing about that, do y-')
>Automatically silencing the mare, supporting thoughts, rebuttals, and dissenting voices, the Shieldmare's tone is cold.
('Enough. This is not the time or place. Your objections can be spoken later.')

>Pulling up the map and pinging the relay, a return match for positioning data shows as 12.9 miles straight.
>Inspecting newish and revised markers, the road had been laid outside the original pathway's route, displayed as 13.6 miles due to swamp crossing deviations.

('She was cut off from us earlier and is... refusing the opportunity to rejoin. Should I a-')
('Don't. You weren't in Basin to see the shitshow we saw first, it was really, REALLY bad.')
('Fillies... I'll tell her.')
>The forward Lancers and Chargers hold their position, Overherd ponies slowing behind them to a halt as the youngest pair frown, the oldest sighing marentally.
"Your name is Mercy, correct? I have several messages from Jeff of Razorback Company, he's at the formation's rear."
"It is, yes. Is he safe?"
"Untouched so far as we know, other than fatigued. Are you okay, and where is Sunny?"
>Taking a deep breath, the Spirit Walker stretches her wings out, lifting one forehoof, setting it down, then flexing out the second, physically intact... and seemed to be in peak performarence.
"I am unharmed. Bit tired, hungry, thirsty, but otherwise well. Sunny is following me, she should arrive in five to ten minutes."
"Understood. Jeff says we have discussed the possibility of either fighting the Planar Constructs, the Riftseeker, or neither, and wants to know what we should do."
>Rolling her front lips back to bite on carefully, the blind mare blinks slowly, then lifts her head northeast, legs spreading apart into a relaxed position.
"Return to Basin Village, the Riftseeker will be destroyed soon. The agreemarent I accepted requires that nopony or human approaches the vicinity of Basin Arena. Leave... please."
>Cutting the squad's forming questions off by her left wing shearing down, right wing reaching forwards, vibrating streaks of disturbed Ethereal and Void fractures occur in realspace around her.
>The Spirit Walker's physical form disrupts as she leans into a strictly offensive pose, crouching down slightly as her left foreleg raises.
>Left eye and wingblades flaring in bright pink, red, blue, yellow, and green hues, the right eye and blades swirl, spurned purple, blue, and black depths surrounding each.
"I cannot allow further deaths to tormarent me and I will not say this again: not a single individual is to take a step forwards. My honor will not be stomped upon for the fourth time this night. I am prepared to kill a hundred if not all of you to defend that. Choose, quickly."
[1d6 = 3] <Spectrum Dive: Opposing
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Auto-Resist
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Void Spectrum Rend: Preparation
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Ethereal Plane Rend: Preparation
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <Spectral Shatter: Preparation

>>371205
>Well out of sight farther ahead, short reports and flashes of Hunter-Killers streaming towards a hunting swarm are made, their Eldritch-tinged weapons causing less experienced Day and Watch Guard fits.
>Mostly out of fear, though a few were distinctly scared of potential corruption which the Lunars around them were quick to soothe.

('We can.. tell... ...yeah.')
('Ain't blind. Also ain't stuck up.')
('Don't be like that, he can fly! Not like Clem, but still damn cool.')
('What, you want wings too?')
('Nah, can't say I like pink much, but they look good on ya man!')
>Rolling her eyes, then regretting doing so at lather stinging the same, the leadmare marentally stomps on a variety of jibes, taunts, whistles, and marecalls throughout the lines.
('Debate the usefulness of crystalline wings much later, or to a Kingdom Shell. There was once hundreds, possibly thousands, in the pseudo-pegasus configuration, though I think they were rescinded in the middle 28,600's.')
('Few mares were so convincing, let alone profoundly insightful to future generations. As the future was, so shall the past has been.')

>Leaving the faux-cryptic commarent to quiet disagreemarents, the Assault Vanguard's commarender orders all front lines to halt, head cocking at the lead squad immediately takes several steps backwards at Mercy’s wholly unexpected threat, both the Shieldmare and Lancer leadstallion focusing on her.
('IS THIS SERIOUS!?')
('I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID MARES BUT DISENGAGE RIGHT NOW-')
(‘We haven’t done anything wrong or been aggressive in the slightest!’)
('Apparently she thinks otherwise, back off immediately.')
(‘What the fuck is she doing?!’)
('WE HAVEN'T ENGAGED, WHY IS SHE HOSTILE?!')
('She’s insane! Nopony can open a spectrum and Plane in conjunction!')
('Far be it from me to state otherwise but that is a method we have used in the past. Fairly difficult to achieve, in controlled circumstances, yet not impossible.’)
(‘I doubt her sanity is the issue at hoof in this instance, those rifts are quite real-')
(‘'Fuck’s sakes, tell her to stand down! We're not here to hurt or kill her, she’s an ally to us!’)
(‘She has spoken what is necessary and will not listen. A pegasi standing on her honor is, by all technicalities, absolute. A horrific death is preferable to dishonor and disgrace.’)
(‘Testing a mare’s resolve is not a worthwhile option if those fractures are intact as I believe them to be. The repercussions of Ethereals and deeper Void creatures being set loose to meet in a single location will be extreme, and long lasting.’)
(‘What do you expect us all to do then, march back to the Basin without killing the fucking thing we’re supposed to!?’)
('I expect little, and we expect nothing. While the convictions and feelings most of you hold right now are respected, those junctures are much too real to be mere bluffs. It is perhaps best that we do precisely what she has stated.’)
>Openly agreeing with the Shieldmare, the Vanguard's leadstallion glances up at his lance, then forwards, studying the variety of ponies, humans, and Minotaurs in range.
>Eyes shutting and releasing a tense sigh, the commarender draws the Overherd's back to him.
(‘These concerns are well founded and understood, but not.. necessarily positive. All ponies here accepted the summons to defend Basin Village against the largest known number of intact Tainted, well past the Lunar-Solar War’s end no less. Likewise, we accepted the potential consequence that all of us would die.
As the situation stands however, we are unprepared to take on a completely unknown, most likely flight capable Riftseeker. Nothing more than bare speculations on its weapons, armor, capabilities, size, and speed are known.
The majority are strictly close combatants. We have zero explosives remaining. Unicorn and Psion support is extremely limited, one to two minutes at maximum. There are no fliers remaining to achieve air superiority. And Razorback, including yourself, is profoundly exhausted.
This should not end in a suicide mission.’)
>Syncing together briefly, the leadstallion and leadmare return their focus to Mercy, holding perfectly still, then speak across the Overherd.
(‘We accept the following: her words are most likely inviolable, those rifts into the Void and Ethereal Plane do exist, she has stated the Riftseeker will be destroyed soon, and that we are not allowed one step forwards. We cannot in good faith reccomarend continuing this course of action.
But we are not tyrants, nor are we entitled to holding loyalty above honor, let alone self-preservation. As she has stated, choose quickly, but be warned of this much: we do not know what she does.’)
[1d6 = 6] <Solar Reaction
[1d6 = 2] <Lunar Reaction
[1d6 = 6] <Watch Guard Reaction
[1d6 = 3] <Councilierge Reaction
[1d6 = 4] <Razorback Reaction

>>371209
>Restoring the Overherd's full attention to examining their individual surroundings, the leadstallion sifts through reports from Luna's Villagers and Operators alike.
('Considering what has been shared I'm inclined to believe there are outside effects causing the unusual.. I hesitate to call them symptoms, but I don't know what other word to use, which have been experienced.')
>Pensively glancing through the Shieldmare's eyes at the lead Spireguard mare and Minor Ethereal Champion, his thoughts blacken.
('Can think of a few hundred questions to ask them, yet they don't seem to be in a typical talkative state like I'd expect. And they've been refusing contact other than requests, suggestions, and orders.
One would think the Empire's most esteemed forces and allies should be most concerned towards Razorback experiencing such bizarre circumstances.')

>Taking in cohesively offered information, the Overherd ponders on your words, each of the Razorback affiliated Lunar unicorns along with veteran and Elite Councilierge Assault Vanguards combining their raw knowledge.
('A bit odd. Certainly not unusual for a symbiote, weapon or otherwise. It had already shifted into the standard presymbiotic form before reaching Basin Village, so her intention, or intentions, are logically sound.
I would still like to know what the original object or component was, but since none know then it matters little in the long run. Which does make me wonder.. ah, nevermind.')
>Reaching a consensus after three seconds, the leadstallion frowns at a Striker's recall of the bright orange sphere's actions, shuffling that one to other Psions for later study, one of the older Lunar unicorns speaking matter-of-factly.
('The same creature you aided in killing.. Vitriole Drakes were a thoroughly Void-mutated subspecies which were able to retain both their poisons and toxins. They could occur from any Emerald Drake living throughout most of Moors, excluding the Crystal Moors of course. Most common in the Central, Crag, and Deep Moors region. Smaller numbers did exist throughout the Coastal, Outer, Tropical, beach, and unmapped regions. Rarely found in the Ferron claimed sections, however.
When it was discovered that Vitrioles could slip into Void spectrums effortlessly, Princess Luna ordered the entire Lunar Guard to search and wipe out both the original and mutated species to the last. Approximately thirty thousand Emerald and nine hundred Vitrioles were confirmed deceased.
Unfortunately, I did not study the full accounts and records of those efforts, but the fact that one Vitriole survived more than four hundred years does lend some credence to an older theory.
We have a saying in the Villages: fate does not enjoy striking twice. A tiny number of Void-mutated examples have been known to live far longer than the originating species, yet each were unique individuals that shared no commonalities.')
('Have any similar or potentially related creatures been located during the Moors Restoration Project?')
('None that we are aware of, from reports, records, accounts, or otherwise. As a matter of pure study and curiosity it is remarkable. As a matter of professional disgust, a Riftseeker taking that form is beyond abominable.')
('I... see. That is why.')
>Marentally blanking out at the object's mention, the leadstallion's eyes close, offering unspoken, quiet and conciliatory sensations directed towards you and Twisted Wing.
('My apologies. We will not bring up the matter again.')

>The five Assault Vanguards halt around you at the white mare's name, their Mind's Eyes staring at each other as the Solars, Lunars, and Stalliongradians likewise cease moving.
('Master Clemency, do you know her well?')
('Obviously. Question is, what do WE do?')
('Probably nothing.')
('PROBABLY? Explain.')
('Think about it this way: most of Razorback is afraid of her. She's volatile, reckless, and...')
('Go on.')
('Thoroughly nasty to deal with.')
('As in cruel? Mean? A bitch?')
('None of those. I'm not going to read into their thoughts more than this: humans REALLY don't want to deal with her when she's angry. Right now it's just the opposite. I think.')
('Rrrright...')
>Quickly forming and discarding questions as quickly as they were be made, the mares share a brief, starkly confused thought, shutting it aside while the three factions begin tallying their votes, relying on the Councilierge to keep track of numbers.

>All Solar and Watch Guard vote against continuing, a majority of Operators likewise decline.
>On the other end of the spectrums, exactly half of the Councilierge vote yes, the other half vote no, while the majority of Lunars vote to continue.
>Comparing the total numbers from both sides of the votes, the leadmare and leadstallion's Mind's Eyes stare towards each other.
>Exchanging short, condensed messages outside the Overherd for well over a minute, the pair's helmets shake negatively, refocusing onto Mercy, comfortably and steadily holding her pre-assault pose, the older Charger at the line's front speaking for them.
"The vast majority has come to a decision. We will turn around and leave immediately. But we need to ask one question, if you'll answer it."
"Ask."
"Are you positive that Riftseeker will be destroyed?"
>Releasing the Ethereal and Void tinges to her eyes, then wingblades, the Spirit Walker stands upright, ears cocked in thought.
>Snout wriggling several times before giving a confident, bizarrely slow nod.
"Yes, I am."
>Head lifting to blink at the hundreds of Mind's Eyes gazing at her, the white mare offers a flat, yet encouraging smile.
"Do not worry, I will return when it is.. dead."

>Turning about with her squad, the mare scowls in her helmet, motioning for the Overherd to leave.
('Lunars, Councilierge, Razorback.. I don't know what to tell you other than we are not prepared to piss with Ethereals and creatures from the Deep Void.
Good news is if we make for Basin Village like before we'll be there in three hours, should arrive before Dawn.')

>>371195
>Psuedo-leathery wings tilting up to slow his flight, the symbiote's right eye snaps around and on to you.
>Expressionlessly studying the container, then you, the ears flatten apprehensively, lips pulling back at the corners and front legs twitching, equine distaste visible.
>Head turning to survey the paired Hunter-Killers jolting north, the chest expands and contracts in a silent sigh, but makes a short, accepting nod in your direction.

>Returning to stare forwards, the batstallion's right wingclaws click together in the specific 'caution' sound, several large, dull green, brown, and gray scaled reptiles ahead on both sides of the road.
>Passing by, they were partially torn apart, the elongated, triangular head similar to an alligator crossed with a pitviper.
>The exposed teeth were thin needles, the body both angled and heavily muscled, considerably larger than an earth pony, and not a species you knew off hoof.
[1d6 = 6] <???
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Construct Realspace Scanning Protocols
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]

>>371212
>I fully agreed with that sigh, Mini Wild.
>This place was bullshit and knew it.
"If I were back home, I'd consider the past twenty-four hours to be a nightmare, Wild."
>Of course, being mortared for two hours straight isn't a walk in the park either.

>I wait for her to stop having a fit, before getting up out of my seat and sticking my head out of the opening, glancing around as I climb out onto her hand.
>She.. definitely looked unique, I'll give her that.
>Never seen anything like her before.
"I don't know how long its going to take for me to get used to seeing you, Wild."

>>371221
>Catching the batstruct's expression at the You-put-WHAT-in-this-!? Flask, Sunny made a flat expression as she stowed it away again. It had probably just analyzed what it was made of, or the remnants of where the flask had recently been.
"Yeah, yeah, not my best decision. Happens to the best of us, but if it works it works."

>Sunny followed the batstruct's indication towards the lizards, she was careful to give them as wide a berth as she could without leaving the road. Slowing her pace and stepping with care so as not to provoke them.
>Though it was clear the Hunter-Killers had already done some provoking. Injured to such a degree, most animals would avoid further contact if not actively threatened so they could lick their wounds, or they would go into a rage at her passing and try to attack. Either or.
>She was still in the underdark, but the batstruct was not. At least it was flight capable, so unless they could spit acid it should be fine. Still.

[1d6+7 = (2+7) = 9] < M.Stealth + Kitty Catboots + Spider Silk Sneaking Suit
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11]
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10]
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10]

[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] < E.Ambush + Ambusher
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]

>>371218
>>371219
>>371220
('I had a lovely luncheon with a Shell actually, before I got these wings.')
>That memory reminded Lont. He needed to tell someone of Tacit's importance, Luckys death and that the Conclaves wished to trade with Razorback. And more.
>There was so much to unload. To unpack and make it the burden of others.
>He sighed, wings and shoulders slumping. He was starting to feel the exhaustion catch up to him. Standing still has allowed the tiredness to creep up on him like a predator from the Moors.

>>371220
>Fingers drumming across his cradled Spiker, Lont glanced towards the Crystal Forces, eyes lingering on the Crystal Batponies that were still hidden from the rest of the army. Perhaps that is why they were so quiet. Not wanting to let slip that bombshell.
('The Crystal Empire is going through a turbulent moment currently, I assume they merely wish to get this task done and return home as quick as possible. No time for chitchat. Only reason I can think of.)
>It was probably -a- reason why they were quiet. But not the main one. Lont silently hoped this dissuaded any further speculation as to why they were so distant.

>>371218
>Jeff feels somewhat satisfied hearing the Central Moors no longer had any Tainted in it. Restoration or not, it must have been a weight off of the region's shoulders.
>He has no idea what the 'Old' area means. Maybe he knows it of another name. Either way it gets dropped, so he follows suit.

>Checking their distance away from the Basin Village, he realizes the effort Mercy had pulled off. Thirteen miles, trying to get back to the Village.
>No wonder she was so hell-bent...

>The lead mare passes along his concerns to Mercy. The conversation comes through the Overherd at the least.
>She was fine... said she was fine at least. Sunny was a hop and a skip behind her, he was glad about that. First job the greenhorn went on, and it ended up being one hell of a doozy.
>Her reply was to stand down and return to the Village. It sounded like some sort of agreement was made between her, Sunny, and the Planars going off of the warped Construct's struggle to try and indirectly communicate with him through his and Clem's tech.
>As long as the RIftseeker was going to be taken care of and the Planar's were going to fuck off afterward he was satisfied with the outcome.

>>371219
>>371220
>Before he can get anything else in, something happens up at the front.
>Mercy was getting hostile? He could see through the Mind's Eye she was she was putting on a defensive stance. She was preparing to open rifts into the Void and Ethereal planes to keep them from moving forward.
>She's committed, totally bent on them not continuing. If her honor was on the line, the WOULD try and fight them all over it.
>He wants to interject, but the factions start to panic and bicker on their options.
>Personally, if they didn't need to fight and can walk away he's more than fine with that if the situation will solve itself.
>Eventually it boils down to a vote. Each faction: Lunar, Solar, Councilerge, Watch, and Razorback start pooling their votes to decide on what to do.
>Obviously he mentally votes to yield to Mercy and leave. They were under-everything'd to deal with any enemy involved right now despite their numbers. Everyone was either physically exhausted, magically fried, or both.
>... the votes are mentally tallied, the final verdict is to side with Mercy. Much to his relief.
>As everyone agrees to pull out and begin the march back to the Village, Jeff addresses the leader that was directly talking to Mercy. He mindlessly dismisses the comments being made about the white pegasus, understanding the ways she does her own things.
('Wait. Before we leave, can you ask her if I can approach and speak with her privately? As my herd-second, I just want to confirm her well-being before we depart. If she refuses, then tell her to take care and I'll see her back at the Fortress when everything has been settled.')