/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

>>371910 →
>Rather slowly, especially for the exhausted or those struggling to put their helmets back on, dozens of helmets turn or shift at your direction, a staggering variety of nocturnal eye colorations greeting you with grave concern.
>As one, the Night and Lunar Guard stills, only a few blinking at first.
"He was.. right there."
"Next to me?"
"Yeah.. but how-"
>The closest group on the outskirts stand up straight, quarter-turning to eye those closest.
>Then the next row performs the same, and the next, Guard helms swaying back and forth.
>Reality bends forwards a fraction.. and snaps.
>Small clusters of ritual blades held aloft are rapidly stashed, unicorns snarling out tired orders as they perform immediate close range bonding.
"MARES, LINE UP AND AREA CHECK! Rest of you in the air, NOW!"
>Smaller pegasi leaping onto anypony larger than them and jolting upwards in flight, seperating into squads of their own as their progressively larger kin need little more than enough room to spread their wings and jump.
>The majority spread across the Basin's southern buildings to glare down, while the least tired streak outwards, every possible Lunar color burning coldly.
>Seemingly taking commarend, an older Village unicorn in an older, heavily scratched Lancer armor configuration shouts above the noise while a second in brand new Charger calls to her.
"Search every-damned-thing!"
"Where's Emerald?!"
"Who?!"
"You know, the green eyed human mare! The one we're not supposed to laugh at!"
>Pausing to double check while unicorns and the much smaller number of earth ponies settling into loose parade lines, the Villager's eyes visibly flicker upon swiveling to study you briefly.
>Clonking about halfway to gaze at the disorderly ranks, her helmet makes a brief shake.
"No idea! Find them both, they can't be far!"
[1d6 = 1] <Search Efforts

>>371911 →
>Clearing the rapidly fading speckles, which probably weren't cancer-causing, the scene's entirety could have matched any medium sized trading center.
>Although Shoalbarge had more of an air towards bartering given the few coins you could see, the hundreds of earth ponies were far more quiet and organized than most markets you could think of.
>Thick, almost leather looking satchels filled with something heavy seemed to be the most common trade item, which were quickly exchanged for large amounts of raw foodstuffs, though a curious variety of colored wood, whether sticks or small logs, was second.
>Spaced thoroughfares between family groups were enough for you to catch sight of other translocation matrices spread about equinedistantly, ponies arriving or leaving nearly every half minute.
>Comparing the number of pegasi to earth ponies, it was about one in nine although few seemed interested in anything more than fruit.

>Head tilting left in a short motion, the mare's eyes widen briefly at your first few words.
>Breaking into a sharp grin, she takes several steps forwards, left leg lifting high and extending the hoof, which had an unusual, thin metallic plating covering it, in greeting.
<Spaneigh> "It's great to meet you, especially since you know our language, too! Common Equestrian is such a pain and I hate having to find translators. But don't mind that."
>Giving a short huff, Sallinas sets her hoof down lightly, then flicks her ears halfway forwards, the right eyebrow raising.
<Spaneigh> "This used to be some kind of trading or shipping vessel in the past, probably related to the First, Second, Third, or maybe Fourth, but other than that it was found abandoned at least a thousand years ago. The pegasi and Harpies that starded living here didn't care to find out why."
>Face shifting into an embarrased look, she stares straight up for a second before focusing on you.
<Spaneigh> "Not much, sorry. As for making friends there's a lot of ponies here, but we don't really have a lot to do with Princess Argenta or the Coalition. We're fairly independent outside from small tributes or collections, and those happen maybe once every.. three years?
And except for allied trading we don't have a whole lot of materials, this is primarily a trade and storage hub."
>Lips pursing while her face tightens, stock still for a few seconds before giving a short rolling shrug.
<Spaneigh> "As for opportunities that wouldn't take long to find out. Might take a minute."
>Head turning, burnt red eyes surveying the closest stalls.
>Making a short, sharp, attention getting up-down whistle, Pren's left ear flops down, waggling twice.
[1d6 = 6] <Offers

>>371921 →
>Flickering around to visibly examine the crystalline device, 'Shiibo' sets up a tiny new window to copy local data.
>Performing several difficult hand motions as if weighing something, the avatar's head shakes before simply filing each into new branching categories.
'Secure connection established, transferring all low and medium non-priority objectives for data modeling now.'
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10] <R-AEHI Mass-Calculation Algorithms
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9]
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]

>Appearing with minute pressure exchange quicker than you could physically realize, the weapon takes on a slightly blue-red tinted gleam from the central display screens.
>Thin, visibly bending lines appear around it, the ultra-fine magnetic field holding stable.
>And rather comfortably so.

>Busied with connecting a small tablet and lead to her seat's recharging ports, Katyal glances up briefly at the OT-4 rapidly changing direction, turning a full 180 around the den, the screens showing virtually no movement.
"Can't agree, any scent or trail we leave behind is asking for trouble that we don't have the explosives or ammo to deal with. Damn, didn't even feel that turn."
>Finding one that fits and setting it across the right armrest, she makes a watch-tapping motion, mouthing the words 'or this' with a pained expression, before settling back into a partially meditative pose.
"Besides, if that shipping container's similar to the ones I've helped dig out, they're not useful as anything other than a giant weight."
*"Hold on, how good's that material for armor? Could we use it for the Landbarge?"*
*"It would be mediocre at best, unfortunately. The second highest grade Dynasty intermixes were developed solely to prevent damage from esoteric means, but are barely comparable to middle grade pre-Modern Era alloys. However, taking it apart would destroy a majority of the protective wardings, sigils, and seals.
Unless you had a certain type of pony whom fully comprehends the vast intricacies of maintaining them, that is."*
*"Welp, it was a thought."*

>Coming into view, albeit sideways, Hodch was currently picking through a vast pile of coins, small squares, rectangles, metallic bars, and more colors of gemstone than you'd seen in the Enclave, heaped next to a tree which made the OT-4 appear miniscule.
>Holding aloft a single piece, a sharp neon blue-white, the Reservist's ears perk up at the Landbarge coasting to a stop next to him, the motion barely felt.
*"Dul states this was everything. She was planning on trying to take the shipping container back in pieces, though is nowhere near acclimated enough to damage it. What was it was doing to your claws? ...bouncing off? I see. Not unusual, those were heavily warded to prevent damage, let alone being broken into.
For now I would prefer to mark the location as a minor retrieval possibility, we've spent too much time here already. Lonestar?"*
*"Tagged and logged to the best of my abilities. Gonna take a while to figure out the mapping systems though."*
*"This should only take a minute to load."*
*"Wait, in the back?"*
*"For now, yes. Katyal and I will sort out what can be safely stored elsewhere."*
*"Elsewhere as in?"*
>Heaving together the bars in groups, the deep purple unicorn visibly strains while his eyes roll, large pillows appearing in Lunar blue to float them upwards.
*"Less talking, more opening, please-"*

>Both of the rear hatches lower, Dul sliding around the left one, Riftdrowners carrying a pockmarked chunk of kanpri the size of her head to toss on the mat, then trots through the Landbarge's side.
>Which is immediately followed by a host of archaic, refined metals, stacked in front of the unoccupied seats.
*"Better be, had to give up a rear suite of plasma weapons for it.
I've got a manual and the Rerculon knows basically everything maintenance wise. Whole system's based off designs considered 'applicable enough' to save in our most secure tidal forts. Also don't know enough about what we had generations before, and when ExoTech tried to recreate an original, half of command said it wasn't possible. Whole technician staff gave up after ten, maybe fifteen minutes poking around the schematics.
In short: one would've prevented Five Stars, that being the aeronaval command structure, from producing anything for about two years. Ten light cruisers, three heavy, one light battleship, fifty support vessels, and a hundred ExoDivers worth. Didn't have the infrastructure."*
>Delivering another stack of metals into the passenger compartment, Hodch glances upwards for five seconds.
*"Why not ask your Gestalt for assistance? He does have some post-temporal access."*
*"Already tried that approach. I'd need another ten tons at least, which means performing a huge remodel."*
*"Nevermind then."*
>Returning to deposit a large, faintly glowing black cube next to the right hatch, Dul frowns deeply at it, though jumps through the side once more.
>Turning to survey the next delivered pile, mostly gems this time, the woman gives a low, appreciate whistle, sliding off to begin inspecting.
*"Ey Hodch, how marely Dynasty transport containers have the Lunars found in the past half millennia?"*
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <Expert Thievery
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]

*"In total? Hm. Perhaps ten thousand or so. Give or take two."*
*"...thousand?"*
*"Roughly. We don't collate every single record, especially if such is a simple recovery, found, or ancestral claim."*
*"Number of empty ones?"*
*"Roughly one in thirty."*
*"Enough to buy a few castles. Guards, staff, and the whole county included, right?"*
*"Or to bribe whom-knows-what."*
>Hearing Dul struggle to roll something up the left ramp, the First Responder stares as the Siren gives up, avoiding the next pile of coins and striding out to help her.
*"Normally I'd be the one bringing up that option. Any more?"*
*"Five-"*
>Hefting a large beach ball sized, dull green metallic sphere in both hands, she returns to deposit it on the chair next to hers with a scowl.
"Where the shit did they even FIND enough for this?"

>>371932 →
>Feeling the multitude of punctures closing and flesh knitting back together was mildly bizarre, though far better compared to the various alternative substances Tipper had treated you with in the past.
>Marking the seep's location, it takes considerable effort to sink down into the middle Void layers, away from the lighter, more troublesome spectrums.
>Facing what felt to be southwest and breaking into a partial sideways lumbering jog from the Gepard's weight, bright green in one eye and red in the other show a thoroughly different ecosystem:
>Leaving the water into a partially raised, larger stand of trees, the uneven ground you could see wasn't enough to slow you down, nor were rapidly fleeing small mammals, reptiles, and insects, the majority smaller than a housecat, seeking any possible shelter.
>Skinny clumps of waist high, wide leafed plants chaotically spread between the faintly warm crystalline trees, clusters of long, thin banded ferns scattered between, while small, round bushes were uncommon, dotting the strange landscape with a wide profusion of oddly shaped berries.
>Trying to compare known Moors flora to these, none were similar enough to find common ancestry.
>Far ahead you make out the beginning of a shallow curve leading upwards, roughly 100M above the nearly flat micro-plateau, the crystalline trees much wider, though considerably shorter than the ones near the emerald boulder.

>Passing a faintly glowing, massive fallen limb, a booming, feral howl-screech that was definitely unfamiliar rebound across the Reliquary.
>Profuse, angered avian shrieks retort in kind, though fall silent at an exceptionally loud crack.
[1d6 = 2] <Tracking

>>372080 →
>Returning a pleasantly low pitched snicker to you, Stellar flicks her wingclaws apart in a 'I get it' motion.
"You should see my sister's stallion, he makes the rest of us look completely normal in comparison. Void scars, swamp skitter bites, and nasty burns everywhere else."
>Eyebrows raising briefly, the Cult mare keks, albeit quietly.
"Then again you probably have, he trades here quite a bit."

>Emitting several consecutive, loudly relieved chirring sounds, Guillotine continues rotating until the top, now entirely flat deck faces directly downwards.
*"Worketh well mine logistics dae, unused long havest they be. Havest little tae ponder, methinks: Mama's Tone nae difficult thaen Elder Hongrel."*
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Intact Communication Protocols
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]

>Rotating sluggishly, the satellite's machine learning system takes half a minute to cross-reference coordinates, ranging the Ferron Coast to Central Moors.
>Finally locating a specific central point of reference, what you see is difficult to comprehend at first:
>Vast, twisted masses of highly varied trees were covered in what appeared to be equally massive, flat vines, though a slight refocus reveals another complexity.
>Recognizing one as a mango, the uniquely shaped, almost reflective dark red was mildly amusing, though the next was some type of near-tropical spiny fruit.
>Each of the branches was effectively another canopy shading those under it, broadened out and forming multiple layers of deep, vibrantly living growth in nearly every color, save for lighter hues.
>While you weren't sure how tall each was, nor was there much of a reference, some were sure to dwarf those around the Fortress.
>Barely perceptible movements scattered across each level were clearly visible, but weren't focused upon.
>Locating what the system deemed to be the exact center of the grid coordinates, an incredibly dull green, partially oval shape becomes noticeable, surrounded by an alarming amount of movement.

>>371871 →
>Ticking off the final checklist notations, a guttural, choked hacking-cough from outside occurs, heavily muffled, as does the imprint of multiple Void backwashes.

>>371878 →
>Nova Flicker
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Vile Taunt
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] E.Assault
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <M.Casting: Voidshear
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <M.Teleport
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
>vs:
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <???
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <???
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <????
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <???

>>389731
>Dissipating his unnamed weapon, he looks up towards Katyal as she relays a negative to his proposal.
>He nods as she highlights their lack of time, idly noting the radio exchange as the OT-4's suspended ride glides to their destination.
(Not unlike the grav crafts.)

>Upon arrival, he stands and moves to assist in transporting whatever could feasibly be carried in through the rear hatch only pausing briefly to take in the sizable assortment of coins, gems, and other raw materials.
>Making liberal use of his Sticky enchantment to increase the available carrying surface area, he coats himself in a layer of gems and coins before using his arms and gloved hands to carry larger items back to the transport while sparing a glance at the Greensteel spheres.
(Greensteel, highly unusual. Flexible properties, may be useful in armor applications preserving mobility. Naturalistic damage profile?)
*"Given the collapse of the Dynasty, there are no claims to these goods, correct?"*

>>370863 →

>It takes Enginseer Mallia barely a split-second to acknowledge the modulating signal, and with it the surface of these recently completed datastacks--this treasure trove of knowledge that she had just been allowed access to.
>Instantly, the Enginseer was distracted as she mentally sifts through the mere surface of these bytes of ancient history and information.
>If she wasn't currently experiencing emotional turmoil at the same time, she might've squealed incoherently in Binary.

>Thankfully, she was currently exercising her self-control to remain relatively focused. More attention is provided towards the Sub-Phaeron Lord as it provided it's response.
>It spoke in ways that had a way of disarming her and confusing her simultaneously. Were she less of a Xenarite, this would be the equivalent of a mental flashbang, as Dogma and Indoctrination would've attempted to wrench her towards violence. but, "thankfully", Dogma and Indoctrination had little purchase on this one's mind.
>It was still weird to the point that she had to 're-read' the speech a few times just to make sure she was understanding correctly, that a Necron--of that species that saw humans as little more than flies on a wall, was speaking to her like this. Like an equal. But she could see it for what it was: An olive branch, and an ounce of Hope.

>...'were we to meet in honest, civilized affairs, no conflicts would we have'...

>What does she even say to this? She could keep quiet, silently acknowledge. It felt rude somehow.
>Eventually, after a couple nanocycles, a trickle of true honesty leaks out.
(This feels too good to be true. Like it shouldn't be happening. It's frightening. Somehow more frightening than the fact of ... having died and come back.)
>That made her brow furrow slightly, openly, albeit again not to Raindrop Raspberry.
>She was repressing too much. That dam she had put up was going to burst eventually, probably soon at this rate.

>She had to blink and refocus on Raindrop Raspberry to 'reset' herself.

>Mallia couldn't possibly notice this, but as a very pale-skinned woman herself it was obvious when she blushed. Her soft cheeks had taken on a slightly more reddish tint.
>The Pegasus knight was saying a lot of things she is interested in, but it was clear which part Mallia had hung up on as Raindrop Raspberry talked at the exclusion of most other things: The moment Raindrop said she felt 'safe' around them, Mallia made one blink and looks frozen stiff in surprise for at least a second. Even the mechadendrite tendril behind her had gone solid against her back.
>The Enginseer's hand comes down from the side of her head, leaving some ruffled brown hair in it's wake as it comes to lingering on her cheek, and then over her lips.
>Those green eyes of Mallia flick up, looking at those wings as they are flexed, but it only lasts a second before the eyes go back to resuming eye contact. As the Pegasus was now leaning forward.

"You feel safe around me?"
>Her voice descends almost to a whisper, as if this was somehow scandalous. Speaking from behind a hand currently over her mouth. Which drops a second later, back onto her own lap.
>Her voice quickly rises again, sounding almost energised, more eager, with the sadness starting to melt from her eyes.
"Oh- wow, I-I'm, I'm really flattered!"
>Mallia's lips curled into a fainter, tentative, but much more genuine smile
>Perhaps unconsciously, she even holds the Knight's hoof juuust a little tighter. For a moment. Then it relents as Mallia more consciously recovers, looking down at the hoof she was still holding onto, pensively.
"You-, ah-, honestly have much more faith in me than I have in myself right now. Hah~..."
>Mallia's eyes downcast, her body shifting slightly where she sits--a nervous wiggle overtaking for a brief moment, even lifting Raindrop Raspberry's hoof a little to and fro in the odd movement she makes; even the Mechadendrite sways a bit from her sternum.

"So strange... But, Iiii~... I can do this for you! Yeah! Cover for you, and do the things you cannot! I would be happy to."
>Mallia's head bobs a couple times in a pair of affirmative nods, quickly lifting her hand to brush back the locks of hair that are quickly displaced over her face as a result.
"I-, ah-, do... feel, safer... ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ. You haven't taken advantage of my significant emotional and physical weakness. That's very nice. Nicer than a lot of other people."
>She said with an underlining nod of her head, speaking much more sheepishly than when Raindrop said it but somewhat heartfelt too.
>The intensity of her embarrassment and worry is multiplied by the amount of Inquisitorial Retainers currently in the Noosphere with her. The look in her eyes changing subtly again, nervous--constantly shifting, but glinting with that unusual child-like hope that was so rare in people like her.
"I'm not expecting something more. I have no idea what to expect! Talking to you has been enough to buoy my spirit and keep me from breaking down any further. That's a lot. A lot. I couldn't ask for more."

>Brief pause, taking in a sharper breath as her cheeks just get redder by the second.
"Sharing a bed so soon is a bit... Strange? Odd? Weird? But ultimately okay! I think? I think. I'm-not-sure-yet-I've-never-done-this-before!"
>It was as if the more she talked, the more nervous energy this woman accumulated. She threw that last part out rapid-fire in one breath, exhaling a bit more for it.

"IF, you actually want to be my Marefriend... I will... I will accept you."
>Her lips curl into a wider, beaming smile that reaches her eyes, once she gets to that part.
"--Although you will have to tell me all the things about yourself. especially the things you don't like, so I don't accidentally make us both very sad! Especially when I decide to make you gifts."
>The hand holding Raindrop Raspberry's hoof is still trembling, just a little but enough to be felt.

"LILAMAREDRE! ....WAKE UP!"
>Even muffled, that was definitely not good.
>Especially when there was a four second wait between the name and the commarend.

>Eyes prying open immediately at the rather common ritual.. it was merely a ceiling.
>In a room.
>A nice, comfortable, scented, if a bit off-colored one.
>Checking the closest shelves without moving, everything was in the same place.
>The skylights were a bit different during the between hours, and only the faintest stomping was heard.
>Directly TOWARDS said room.
>One, two, three, four, five... nine, yep, right on the slightly squeaky board.
>The light knock.
>Then the unspoken, gentle waking contact.
>And finally the loud, disgruntled sigh precisely before-
"LILA."
>...she'd overslept again.
>Much too late.
>And that meant:
"Wake up right now or ELSE you're going to make duskfast for all of us!"
>Well, that wasn't the worst possibility.
>At least, yet.

>Warm, self-soothing mutters in various degrees precede a rather unexpected sequence of words.
"The Baronness has arrived and is waiting for us. She believes there is a safer route this time.
And you may want to hurry by precisely zero-point-five percent, I do not like the look in her eyes."

>>389749
>Stuck in correcting... something, 'Shiibo' takes one look at the pile, blinks, then returns to selectively peeling back a nonary-to-octodecimal miscommunication fault.
>Which was definitely her fault judging by the mortified face.

>Out the ramp and quickly surveying the accumulated wealth and metals so far, the container's visible contents would have reasonably fit within five to six 4'x4'x4' reinforced military crates.
>Approaching the pile and collecting what you could, a pair of what first looked to be reflective white training weights were lifted in your direction.
>Which most certainly were not.
>What would have been dumbbells anywhere else were instead two precise, roughly volleyball sized spheres of gleaming silverine connected to a reflective red, blue, and silver cylinder of early diamondine.
>Carrying the heavy mass back in, equally confusing objects were deposited by Dul and Katyal:
>The first was side carrying a dim, flattened orange pyramid, which was neither paladine nor Construct hull.
>The second was, for once, struggling to keep hold of a partially shifting black mass in the vague shape of a large rectangle, snorting in your direction as she carefully shoves it into an unoccupied locker, tendrils of Void resonance doing their best to prevent from being contained.
>Poorly.
"Doubt it, unless you wanna go to Caneighdia and try your luck with those asshats."
*"Don't have to be that snide about them. Finder's rights on a shipment this old? Not likely."*
*"Unless there happens to be an object or several inscribed with a herd-name, or names, which I sincerely do not think we will find, this is now the property of Razorback. Along with a twenty-five percent finder's issue for Katyal since Dul has declined any claim."*
*"Can I just say.. swiggity swooty, I came for the booty! And I was NOT dissatisfied!"*
>Lonestar and the avatar facepalm at roughly the same time.

>Exiting the Landbarge after four deliveries of mixed gems, Hodch glances to his left, freezing upon spotting.. SOMEthing glowing on top of the last floating pile.
>Briefly and physically considering whether or not to panic, among other possibilities, he relents as the strange object pulses in dark blue and neon turquoise.
"That... I did not see. Nor expect. Dul, was this object one you brought up from the container?"
>Paused from setting a barstock of early diamondine across her saddle, the Siren looks up.
>And immediately regrets her decision.
>Taking on an utterly dumbfounded expression, she visibly twitches in and out of physical spectrums, dropping the bar through both the Riftdrowers and herself.
>Which seemed to serve no purpose other than potentially calming herself.
>Ending the rapid flickers with a rapid head shake, her face turns flat as she regards the peculiar object.
"No. Dul not see it. Dul not smell it. Dul not hear it. Dul not feel it."
"What's the commotion? Just hold a secon-"
>Katyal takes a step out onto the left ramp, head turning, eyes widening, loses her balance, and slips down on her ass.
>Hard.
<Saddle Arabian> "!#%*"
>The avatar notes her unexpectedly slow recovery with a sincerely amused note, the woman sitting up and grimacing.
"Holy Moonbutt on the Moon, THAT'S a Sphaler Core! Uh, also called Sphalerite. Damn it, should've worn my spiked boots-"
>Dul takes a single, awkward step backwards, one elongated claw pointing at the lightly pulsing, odd Core, although the Riftdrowners once again patiently lift the bar onto her.
"Dul... not want smell it."
"Ehh, they don't have a scent and won't hurt you anyways, they're safe for anyone or anypony to touch. Usually. Give me a minute, might have pulled something-"

>Merely leaning sideways and back to visually, but nothing more, inspect the odd gem-like object, Hodch's coat ripples in a series of rarely seen approving motions.
>Lifting the pile's remainder into a sphere, it floats off towards the OT-4's rear while he turns, eyes tightening as he surveys the Sphaler dropping onto ground.
>Waiting precisely one second, he nods.
*"This explains nothing, and yet, so much. Lone, would you happen to have a plastic bag available?"*
*"What makes you think I'd even know where to find one? I don't have anything other than my bags, and I don't trust that thing! Should've gotten one of those radioactive containers, fucking knew it-"*
*"Relax, this is not one of the FAILED Dynasty experimarents. At least, shouldn't be. Option B it is!"*
>Turning an exceptionally pointed stare at Katyal, the ghosts of several thousand smirks forms as he.. ..heartily kicks the dully pulsing Core towards her.
>Landing against her left thigh and bouncing off, Katyal emits a subdued, heavy sigh, left hand reaching out to, gingerly, pick it up for a cursory examination.
"Thanks, really. That's nice of you. Gifting horses and whatnot. Might take you up on that wing offer later, would be more useful tha-"
>Doing a sharp double take, both hands grasp the Core tightly, shaking it in front of her face once, twice, then a third, peering intently.
"Wat."
>Brightening several degrees each motion, her jaw drops, then recovers.
"Is this for real!?"
>Quickly stands up despite a short pained twitch, holding it outstretched with utter glee.
"It is! Didn't explode or melt my hands! This one's in the Damaged classification, but at least it isn't Flawed. Isn't unstable, fractured, or.. can't remember what the other one is right offhoof."
*"Can we discuss it later and get moving, please?"*
*"Yeah yeah, cool your... wait, your ride doesn't have jets. Comin' in!"*

>Turning around, rather stiffly, Dul watches the First Responder nearly jump into the Landbarge with a near-equine gaze of, marginally, subdued horror.
"Dul not want taste it first."
*"Mostly tastes like dirt. Also fairly cool. Wonder if it can freeze stuff?"*
*"...OH, FUCKING REALLY!? What if you get cancer!?"*
>Clopping by in a faux-smooth, thoroughly hurried walking pace, the Reservist makes a poor effort to hide a painfully spreading grin.
"I love my job."

>>389843
>Slow and creaking as glacial ice, Amethyst sat up in her bed, bleary eyed and unfocused.
>With a steady heave of the fillyest of sighs, she simply slumped forwards and flopped back onto the bed face down.
>Flat as a pancake, arms outstretched, hindlegs now occupying the space where her head formerly was. Contacting all of the surface area she could to absorb any remaining cold spots in the sheets.
":3"
>She could go back to sleep right here and now, it was very tempting.
>Instead the ipotane rolled directly off the side of the bed and impacted the floorboards with a resounding thump and not so much as an attempt to brace against the fall.
"No good. The floor is colder."
>One second has passed.
>Two seconds have passed.
>Three, four, five...
>Amy snorted herself back from sleep and drew her hands back in, pressing against the floor and rising to her hooves.
>Taking a moment to wrap herself in her robe, she snatched a pillow from the bed and one of the puppets from her nightstand, shuffling out of her room to join in the commotion.
>Perhaps even upgrade it to pandemonium.

>>389849
>There were no more cool spots on the bed, at least none that made themselves available.
>Unfortunately.
>Finding the last few traces on the floor and devouring them, they weren't quite enough.

"Fffff-"
>He wasn't snickering outside the door.
>Oh no, not at all.
>Two heavy, ponderous thuds shake the house, a static-laden chortle simply heralding yet another attempt to keep somepony from unnaturally expiring due to extreme temperature-induced laziness.
"LILA! UP!"
"Do you have to shout, mare? She is ignoring you."
"And how do you know that?"
"I heard her laugh."
"From inside your helmet?"
"Yes, in case you do not remember aiding me in placing together the troublesome radio systems!"
"How does that tell you she was laughing?!"
"Do you NOT see the diving board shaking right now, mare!?"
"No, I don't! Now how DID you hear her from this distance, from that high up, and through the window?!"
"I SWEAR-"

>Ignoring the not-actually-swearing of a new round focused on bickering over variables which were definitely too far away, upon collecting the slightly fresher pillow, this one felt marginally cold enough to last for at least a minute.
"Ahhh, she is finally awake. Most excellent timing."
>Leaving the voice behind as you nudge the door open, as you look into the hallway...
>Yep, it had changed.
>Of course.
>Staring into the den now, the double pair of dimly glowing couches and extremely overbuilt sofa hadn't been rearranged, nor was the table covered in bits, pieces, or chunks of failed projects.
>Instead, three large plates and the giant platter were set around the precision aligned cluster of bowls.
>Which were empty.
>And not unusual.

"LILAMAREDRE!"
>Now that one shook the windows.
"Mare, if you persist in pestering her, she may decide to fly off and not return for a week."
"I hope she does not. As I was stating, I have ponifally scouted the entrance and partially explored the main, secondary, and tertiary branching sections. It is, for all intents and purposes, clear enough to proceed."
>It was THAT snooty voice.
>The Baronness was, indeed, here.

Glad to see you guys are still playing here. Have a nice game.

>>389852
>There was usually an end to the pegasi's lazily devious nature, although it didn't quite taste like she was intending to be difficult.
>At least that's what the next shout mostly proved.
"-one of them have been thoroughly retrofitted to such an extent that YOU only allowed one in each thousandth piece due to perceived flaws, fractures, and one-millionth degree disharmonic tones! I CAN hear her laugh, on the diving board, WHEN she is trying to be quiet, through the system IN my helmet!"

>Opening the pantry door to find it.. painfilly overstocked, like usual, the small selection of coals available had dwindled.
>There might only be enough left for three weeks.
>Or in her case, three hours.

"Then why didn't you say so the first time I asked?!"
"Mare, I have stated each precise variable to which you have asked such questions of, TWICE now!"
"Well... you didn't say it all at once like you just did!"
"How is that my fault, mare?!"
"...why is it every single time I am here, this occurs? Both of you, silence. I have had enough nonsense from one word by King Tachell to last me both of your lifetimes a hundredfold."

>Feeling the pillow nearly reaching critical temperature, the three in the meeting room settle.
>Mostly.
>At least until you hear the oversized wooden table shift.
"Did any-"
"Oh for th-"
"What i-"
>It was too late.
>It was always too late.
>Spectacular lightshows flicker into existence through all the windows, which are instantly followed by aery half-screeching rapidly approaching the den's skylight.
"DON'T YOU DARE PUT WATER ON THEM!"

>One muffled voice drifts from your room.
"I cannot begin to imagine a more glorious start to this everday!"

>>389767
>Projecting himself once more into a slightly more efficient seated image, Tox-11's shoulders lift in a heavy motion.
'eh. not all the tin cans are blind, dumb, stupid, arrogant, insane, xenophobic, or worse. just most of them. should have you meet the other one'
>The sub-Phaeric Lord turns in what seemed to be the Guardsman's path, raising one black finger off the Techstave in warning.
>But quickly stops, resorting to tapping the glowing surface with a tone which was best described as technically amused.
'Your words bear untold labyrinths of agony in their truth. What and where is this other one you speak of?'
'something we keep forgetting to check on. not important right now'

>Somewhere, possibly not too far away, and maybe not all that different in height, two gears begin slowly, deliberately grinding together.
>Angrily.

>Taking quite the notice, Raindrop's face creases into standard laughter suppression protocols.
>Which don't hold long as a wide, potentially sanctioned smile breaks out.
"You're alive, healthy, and have no new scars. Isn't that plenty? Besides, I really like your mane."
>Ears swiveling forwards, her eyebrows twitch before releasing a quiet snicker and pushing her hoof into your hand gently.
"Now that's the spirit I needed to hear. You take the ground, I've got the sky. No more looking or talking down on yourself, got it? There's plenty of targets to do that for you."

>Leaning back several inches, the mare's eyes close with a sharp expression of discontent.
>Her right wing lifts up in a motion you didn't recognize, head shaking in small motions.
"Free Knights treat others how they desire to be treated, regardless of species. I would rather die in the Tunnels, Labyrinth, or over the Shoals than take advantage of another."
>Raindrop's head tilts to the left, wing settling against her side while studying you with a peculiar look.
>Which also doesn't last long as she offers a minutely embarrassed grin.
"The beds here are big enough for five or six humans to comfortably sleep on, so you don't have to hold me.. if you don't want to."
>Glancing above you, then back down to meet your eyes, she leans forwards to give a calm, slow nod, her warm hoof rolling small circles in your hand.
"Then, as marefriends we agree to share what we know the other enjoys, take the duties the other prefers not to, and..."
[1d6 = 5]
>Flickers of emotion crossing her face, she does nothing to stifle a humiliated sigh.
"Remind me when I forget my saddlepack."

>Patting your palm with her hoof once more, the raspberry mare retracts it with a wide, hungry gaze down at the still-steaming two tier platter.
"Now, help me finish as much of this as you can! Can't let any of this get cold because reheating it changes the taste, aaaand the Sea's Bounty Matron will beat me with a halberd if we don't return it empty."

[1d6 = 1] <Packages
[1d6 = 4] <Shipmarent Size
[1d6 = 3] <Interest

>>389856
>A low giggle slowly built into devious chuckling and then into mischeivous laughter.
"Against all will this strategic point be held."
>Leaving the pillow on her lap, Amethyst now placed the puppet she carried on her free hand.
"Affix bayonets!~"
>Further the glass tipped, threatening to spill the water on top of the coals. Amy dared the enemy to come in after her.
>If the coals were to be rescued, then Lilamaredre would have to intervene. If she did not, the coals would be drenched, the fires lit from them would be wrong, and Lila would still have to get up in the end.
>But if she did, then the ipotane had but one weapon with which to defend herself, that being the slightly warm pillow whose cold bits she had already absorbed.
>She hummed with malicious yet harmless intent.

>>389848
>Pareidolia sighs at Lonestar's pun, shaking his head as he brushes off another layer of coins off of his arms into the troop bay of the OT-4.
>The clatter and jingles of riches mix with the sudden exclamations from Katyal. Hearing her shout prompts him to stop removing gems and coins from his back.
>Coming to a standstill at the top of the left ramp, he tilts his head to eye the so called Sphaler Core.
(Limited knowledge... apparently highly volatile?)

>He recoils slightly as it is kicked towards Katyal. As she examines and notes it isn't unstable, he relaxes and turns to head back towards the coinage pile.
"What is that core exactly? Rare and often volatile are already understood."

>>389860
>Your taunt.
>That threat.
>It was different than the previous times.
>MOST of the previous times.
>You knew it.
>SHE especially knew it.
>....the other three probably knew a little bit.
>But she most certainly understood every ramification.
>Switching from the half-playful, partially sleepy Common pegasi screech to enraged, incomprehensible snarls, which wasn't a language you knew off hand or hoof, the den's skylight is assaulted.
>Four THOROUGHLY furious, much-too-bright-to-look-at-right-this-second hooves impact, fail to penetrate, crush, destroy, and kill, then exit the viewing portion.
>An immediate, sharp inhalation of breath later, and then-
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <E.Assault
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <B.Flurry
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <RAMPAGE
>vs:
[1d6+20 = (4+20) = 24] <Did he replace the last one properly?

>Would the skylight hold?
>Muffled shouting from Shades and Half-Shades pressed up against the windows.. couldn't quite agree.

"Should we... ..let them keep going?"
"I see no reason not to since Lilamaredre is now fully awake, mare. Or are you unable to reason with the situation as it exists?"
"Why do I ever come here? For what purpose am I to be held captive by these insane choices?"
"If you despise yourself that much, Baroness, then I invite you to look outside."
"Hm. I shall play thi- ...why does that Shade have a knife? .................WHERE DID THAT SHADE FIND A KNIFE!?"
"You tell me, Baroness. By the appearance alone it is not one of ours, nor is it one the Kratha have devised regardless of your best efforts to utilize all materials strictly for the purposes of construction."
"Okay, okay. Hold a minute. On my second thought, you did hear her laugh, right?"
"I do not lie so easily. When it became blatantly apparent to me Lila did not react to your words, tone, nor threats, mare. She has been awake for whom knows how long and was merely basking in the light."
"....men."
"What was that, MARE?!"
>The meeting room turning back into a physical scuffle was, fortunately, not that interesting compared to the Shades shouting for Lilamaredre to win, and the Half-Shades rooting for you.
>And they were equinely divided!

>>389861
>Turning around to face you, back out again, the advanced AI stops, twitches, stops again, stares, then throws her arms out wide and gives up.
'I should not have had nor neeeded to warn you about frosting yourself in front of mares sir, but here I am! Even IF the one particular mare is technically a Planar being with virtually no information regarding their individual tastes, preferences, or lack thereof, I am NOW warning you!
I am sincerely REQUESTING you cease making yourself less of a potential sexual target, though that time has most likely currently passed and I am no longer capable of advising you further! You have been warned!'
>Huffing, loudly, belligerently, and somewhat angrily, she begins throwing figurative and technological gestures at the Rerculon system.
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12] <R-AEHI Mass-Calculation Algorithms
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]

>Slowing to a stop before going up the right ramp, Hodch glances back to gaze you up and down, clearly excited by the unexpected finding.
"One of the most expensive, primally intuitive, yet least appreciated Middle Dynasty era experimarents! That my friend is what happens when several hundred to a thousand ponies attempts to compress two and a half million modern Bits worth of Mystic Ice gems into a single mass Elemarental utilizing a thoroughly unrecorded metamaterial compositing ritual!"
>Snagging the trailing end of the final pile before it could fall, and thoroughly coating yourself in heavy sapphirine, rubynine, emeraldine, quartzine, diamondine, and even a few silverine coins, it takes a few seconds to haul yourself up the same ramp into the Landbarge.
>Pausing to shake off in the center while the rear hatches close, Dul pops through the right side, dragging the diamondine barstock with her.

>Quickly rubbing her hands together, then throwing the trace, lingering Void essences towards the locker where she'd stuffed the massive Void-Flux ingot into, Katyal sits back down on her chosen up front passenger side seat, tossing an honestly irate stare at the unicorn.
"Hodch, explain better and faster next time instead of gloating over every single pony at the Canterlot College that hasn't seen one.
Quick as I can: have you ever tried to make maple syrup? I'm gonna say the answer is 'no', so here's an equivalent: it takes about forty gallons of maple water to be boiled down into a gallon of syrup, anywhere from six to ten hours. Sphaler Cores in compariso are about a five-hundred to one concentration and condensing of the Tallus Ice Elemarental into a SOMEWHAT stable version. That's five hundred Mystic-class gems merged into one singular object.
Damaged simply means the gems themselves weren't properly aligned, whether Elemarentally or not, so whether they were actually damaged doesn't matter, but when you're dealing with that sheer number it's to be expected some don't or can't align properly. Thus: Damaged classification. Most Sphalerites just detonated after the ritual's apex. Any that didn't..."
>Turning a longing, grief-ridden stare at the bizarre hexagonal Core, Katyal speaks in a low reverent tone.
"Dude... I really don't know how to say this other than that is a gently contained, near-infinite, genuince source of the best and deepest Ice Elemerantal properties, even if it's kinda volatile. There's no sapience, sentience, semi or demi, to piss around with. Yeah, it's a bit touchy, and you don't wanna draw more from it than can safely be extracted, but none of us could deplete it in our lifetimes.
...you ever seen or felt something that might as well be holy? This thing's just a taste of what the Dynasty could've done."

>Sitting down right in the OT-4's center, on the left side of the display screen, Dul's head swivels around, her gaze landing on you for several seconds.
>Face tightening with a deeply troubled expression, as if trying to read your mood, yet wasn't able to, she turns back to speak at the woman in a halting, slow marener.
"It not bad like other stuffs from Dynasty?"
>Head shaking in short, fast motions, Katyal turns both hands palm up with an expression of pure, bitter honesty towards the Siren.
"No, it isn't. Look, much as I hate Silver she wasn't fully responsible for most of the failed artificial or faked Cores. Ponies, Gryphons, Harpies, Minotaurs, and all of the others, they got desperate. For what reasons during the Late Dynasty, I DON'T know. Fact is they succeeded more often than they failed, but when they did fail those results were horrific.
That thing right there proves they were onto some weird quirk of magic, science, resonance, and whatever else, that would've changed Tallus. And I... really hate the fact that they didn't."
"Regardless of all previous factors and knowledge, let's take a look to see what it truly appears as, hm?"
>Hearing no instant denial, Hodch plops down next to Dul, gesturing a hoof at the blacksteel cube which floats to him.
>Settling the horrendously placed sphere on top, he raises both hooves-
>And smacks them down.
>Fracturing the sphere, what gets revealed.. isn't quite what you expected.
"....Dul say is really pretty."
"Hexagonal structure like the rest I've seen. Least that doesn't change"
*"Hodch.. you uh, sure that was safe?"*
"Katyal didn't turn into finely frozen mist, which meant the sphere was nothing more than a protective barrier. Yes, I was QUITE sure."

>Attention turning straight towards you, Katyal's eyes visibly harden, yet soften a moment afterwards.
"I barely know you, you barely know me. I get it, you DON'T like me, but I truly do need to know something. Tell me this much at least: did the Spiral you know, before he fall apart, have an Ice form, a Crystalline form, a combination of both, or was it too difficult to tell the differences between either?"
>Pointing directly towards the Core, her face hardens in an unrecognizable mood.
"Because that, depending on HOW we treat it, could become either one."
[1d6 = 1] <Mindscape: Control

>>389862
>Amethyst stood and raised one hand, puppet clad with a single, simple Imperial Guardsman to the heavens, the Guardsman's tiny bayonet affixed lasgun raised in defiance of the descending terror.
>What was violence for, truly? For blood and for skulls? The ravings of madmen lost without purpose. For honour and for acclaim? Vanitas Vanitatum.
>There was but one proper reason to invoke the supreme authority of violence, and that was in order to survive. The purest of victories was to simply endure when all others do not or could not, and to employ the most brutal of cunning to direct one's violence towards that end.
>To. Hold. The. Line.
>The filly held her incredibly heroic pose, Guardsman to the sky, her other free hand still threatening to tip the glass over.
>She began to hum.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdhsNCkqo18

[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] < B. Singing
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3]

[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] < B. Reaction Speed
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]

[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] < B. Crystal Runes + Power
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]

>And sent her pillow hurtling skyward just as THE ENEMY! >:3 broke through the skylight. Aiming the fluffy projectile for her face as the pegasus propelled herself downward.
>All this with the wildest laughter, the most gleeful of grins!

>>389866
>The angle felt right.
>However, the Great Enemy's approach would most likely arrive at a specific juncture when her rage-infused strength would no doubt overcome the double-paned crystalline composites at a specific-
>Right there, of course.
>Bayonet thrusting forth as a spear, the Guardsman's jaw clenches at burning hooves shattering through in eye-searing colorations.
"FOR GLORY ETERNAL, WE HOLD THIS LINE!"

>Launching the now much too warm to hold pillow upwards at maximum speed, the blazing pegasi's enraged face disappears via a sincerely hard, and utterly satisfactory, *POMF* straight to the snoot.
>Losing most of her directional cues, Lilamadre's hooves and wings splay outwards in random directions, attempting to regain control...
>But it was always too late.
>Smashing chest first into the table, rather close to the cup, it tips upwards as the filly rebounds-
>And spills the entire glass, ALL over each coal in their mid-flight.
>How.
>Absolutely.
>Terrible.
>Meanwhile, Lilamadre crashes and rolls into the oversized sofa face first, which also flings the carefully set bowls, three plates, and platter straight into the large bay window, only to bounce off.
>Landing in complete disarray, pillow stuck to her face, Lila IMMEDIATELY inhales every last iota of warmth from while table tips on its legs, top facing her.
>Meanwhile, the tableware clatters in a giant mess all around you, though one bowl does graze your right thigh.
>To which the Half-Shades go WILD with their cheers.
"....I'm going to bake your fingers."
>Muttered in an absolutely, perfectly, no doubt purely calm tone.

>One helmet, one taller mare, and a stocky, shorter mare peek out from the meeting room's barely cracked open door.
"She is fully awake, as I told you earlier, MARE. ...and Baroness."
"This is normal for Lilamaredre and Amy, yes?"
"Really hard to give a solid answer on that... mostly because a certain MAN won't agree to asking certain questions!"
"I have told you this more than enough times: how should I know!? Both of them do what they want! I will not control their actions nor would I!"
"...."
"....."
"......so! You said they can leave whenever they're ready, yes?"
"To be quite fair? Sometimes I don't know which of you I hate more. It is often a mystery, even to me.
I will ready both sleds and check in with the Guardians.
And ensure they have a feast because once that portal opens, I am NOT carrying either of them. Likewise I cannot believe I will be dragging almost two tons through that wretched mess of tunnels."
"Then we shall set for duskfast. Unless you have a better idea, Baroness?"
"No, I do not. And keep those dried Kerbann slices out, I find them hideous at the best of times. Fresh is ever the best."
"As it was and so it were-"
"MEN!"
"MEN!"
"Do I have to punch BOTH of you now?!"

>Muffled speaking from your room mixes in a variety of accents.
"Such a waste, now it will take minutes to set the table properly!"
"Inefficient yet thoroughly elegant, a most commarendable effort I say."
"A MOST GLORIOUS VICTORY! Her defeat was never in doubt!"
"Brave and capable, though not accurate."
"Weren't you going to say something as well?"
"WHAT!? I am not BLIND, nor am I DEAF! I could HEAR her PERFECTLY EXCEPTIONAL WIN! Unlike YOU, fool, I know whom to bet upon!"
"Figures you'd say that."

>>389869
>Grinning at the Kaos caused, Amy took a bow for the Half-Shades outside, the Guardsman doing likewise for the victory achieved and the show provided.
>Turning back towards Lilamaredre, she held up her hands in placative surrender, one still puppet clad.
"Uheee~. Please don't do that, I need them to replace the coals!"
>She strode over and planted a single finger on Lila's snoot.
"And to boop with."
>Looking around at the mess she caused, Amy set about cleaning up, picking up the plates, bowls and tableware scattered around and replacing them at the table with fresh and undamaged ones.
>The poor and sodden coals, however, were a total loss. According to Lilamaredre, they wouldn't 'burn right', making the flames unsuitable for grazing. There were more coals stored away, and she could always gather more, though if they truly were leaving for the world above this day, then this would be the last of the Kerbann derived coals Lila would get for a while.
"I think, maybe, we can get some coking coal later. I don't know how we're going to light it without throwing you into a blast furnace though."
>She snickered at the mental image that came forth from the idea.
>Examining one of the wet coals being held up by the Guardsman puppet, Amy nodded sagely. There was no saving them, they were thoroughly soaked, they simply had to go.

>>389858
(--The other one?-)
>Instant, immediate, intense interest is registered on every level. A spike of curiosity sharp enough to cause a processing lag of about 0.2 seconds. Mallia’s projection locked onto Tox-11 with such sudden focus, the data-stream stuttering with the raw, unfiltered excitement. The Sub-Phaeric Lord speaking stabilises her, as if the Necron speaking constantly reminded her to be disciplined.
(True. Raindrop Raspberry is higher priority...)

>Mallia, in the meantime, has this amusingly lopsided smile on her face while Raindrop's laughter suppression protocol fails.
>This is followed by a beaming, sunny smile from Mallia that was so uniquely naive and oddly content with the situation. She even nudged back back the hoof's pressure, just a little, like her hand was answering the hoof.

>Despite being completely out of her depth, this wasn't so bad? Fraternizing with xenos.
>Maybe things are going to be okay...?

>Then, Mallia's brow arches a bit from having her hair complimented. Eyes shifting with another hint of bashfulness,
>It prompts Mallia to bring a hand to her hair to brush it a few times as she digests the compliment... exhaling softly, chuffing through her nose. Mulling over one of Raindrop Raspberry's statements. The one that asked her not to talk or look down at herself.

>Mallia sighed faintly, a sad but genuine smile playing on her lips. Her eyes drooped just a touch, as if the weight of that thought finally settled.
"Iiiiii promise to do my best in not self-deprecate?"
>Her smile purses slightly and she doesn't sound particularly certain on that note; cheeks unable to be anymore flushed than they were.
>Mallia's head then tilts slightly, visibly glancing off into the space between them in thought as she ponders the thought of being held...
"Mm... Hmmm. Hhm."
"I don't... know...? Maybe. I could be persuaded..."
>Her voice trails off, slightly lowering her head and looking at Raindrop Raspberry with what might've been a hesitant, or maybe coy? glance.

>Her mechadendrite hums, slightly shifting and snaking against her side.

>Then her brow furrowed just slightly. She's still pondering the prospect when the Knight makes that strange expression, and makes that sigh.
>Mallia smiled brightly, and promptly breaks into a mirthful giggle in response.
"You definitely won't need to worry about forgetting your saddlepack then, that's for sure."
>And she casts a look down as she felt that hoof-pat on her hand, and their retracting the hoof. The Enginseer almost seemed sad, for a second, a tiny frown flickering in her eyes.

>Then likewise, finally, looks down at the food. She suddenly remembered she was hungry the moment she looked away from the Free Knight and gazed at the delicious food. Mallia uses her now free hands to make a soft clap and a rub of her hands!

"Okay!! Never had this much food in my entire life. We're going to see how much stomach capacity I've got!"
>Mallia's mechadendrite comes out from beside her as she makes an excited, forward lean and looks down again, looking those for those Charred Moors Saphor-Stalk she had requested to try first, and hurries to pluck a bit of it with her hand to try her first bite of xenofood. Being used to the nutrient paste the more senior tech-priests forced her to eat most of the time out of efficiency, it would be impossible to disappoint her.

>>389894
>Outside, the massed numbers deliver one final cheer before a Kratha motions towards the closest young Kerbann in view.
>They were still concerned about the failure rates of planting more, and it was considered late in the everday judging by the muted, darker hues.
>Easily separating into those whom were still salvaging, tending, on construction and guard duties, the Half-Shades vanish, either to check on the Gates, or teach but mostly play with a few puppies.
>Or, far more likely, annoy King Tachell until he got off his lazy legs to check on the Well.
>...why DID that Shade have a knife?

>Motionless long enough to feel every last trace of collected heat within the den surge towards Lila, the filly's gold pupils narrow into fine dots at the approaching puppet.
"Just one then. Lightly."
>Snout twitching on contact twice, the rest of her royal blue eyes glint as she turns a figurative bonfire glare up towards the Shades.
"Traitors-"
>Spoken muffledly with zero threat as she rolls onto her chest, standing up and flinging the pillow onto the closest couch.
>Wings shaking out, stamping several times on each hoof, then arching her back for a well deserved stretch, the pegasi settles for a heavy, relaxing mane shake.
>Even if she didn't need to.
>Head swinging to sniff at the soaked coals, her lips pull back in chagrin.
"Six to eight days before they dry out. If we are truly leaving this time, your sire and dam won't be cooking as much. They should have approximately three weeks remaining. Two if the Baroness continues visiting."
>Licking her lips at the thought of a blast furnace, Lilamaredre's eyes rotate towards the meeting room door closing.
"I have studied a method to create explosives from two or more materials. Controlling chemical and magical chain reactions is not too difficult, thus suitably light elemarents would catch fire. Oooor... I.. could-"
>And there was that rare sigh.
"Expend a small amount of my Elemarental reserves."

>Finding only a few chips and fractures on the damaged tableware, the pantry's extra stock was-
>More than sufficient to last for half a decade.
>Why did she keep making more from castoff pieces if they weren't expected to withstand being tossed around?
>Nopony knew.
>HE did, but all you ever got was a batpony-Shade-at-the-wrong-timing-and-Gate stare.
>...maybe he didn't know.

"Here, I'll put them outside to dry. Just give me a second to prepare-"
>Wing extended, though not without several feather twitches to show her revulsion for water-covered objects, Lilamaredre prepares to grimace.

>The meeting room door opens, only the Baroness exits in her typical calm, yet purposeful stride.
>For some reason, she'd actually polished the metallic spiraling grooves on her horn, though it was a no robe everday.
>Halting to take a polite sniff, one eyebrow raises at the pegasi, then towards you accompaneighed by a sincere nod.
"A most excellent Dusk to you both. I have been asked to sanction a celebratory feast, and have agreed wholeheartedly. However, King Tachell is.."
>Trailing off to find the proper swear words for later, the unicorn mare sighs dejectedly.
"Unlikely to arrive in time. He believes there may be an older destroyed Gate which ought be rebuilt."

>>389900
>MIU finally cracking into the M2 era datavaults, it was primarily a compendium of events, listed by second, minute, hour, day, month, then year, related to the formation of numerous kingdoms, empires, corporate, and religious entities.
>Rapidly skimming through and comparing what was known, the origins of some were definitively stranger than the often violent debates Magos held over deciphering Terra's murky, terribly incomplete past.
>Notes appended to each confirmed major event indicated the Ordo Chronos had ensured the data was indeed correct, though left no answers as to how they had come across such precious knowledge.
>Scanning the absurdly poor and awful system-attack vectors... such shameful coding spaghetti.
>Even the worst Tech Adepts you could think of would consider defending against THOSE to be an all expense paid luxury vacation.

>Staring at each for three-point-six-one-eight nanocycles, the Guardsman and sub-Phaeric Lord exchange a vast stutter of unencoded data related to a ridiculous number of explosives, various portable launchers, and designs for some type of... near-fractal gel based on local magic.
>Granting a short bow, at least that's what it appeared to be, the Necron E.I. blips off.
>Tox-11 motions towards three Fortress bandwidths being assigned directly to your MIU for additional processing capacity.
'tech vault and datastacks under library now keyed to you excluding restricted access. dont know if most of the prototypes or experimentals are complete enough to use yet, but Flash left her tools out
theres a selection of native weapons down there as well. mostly polearms. access interface records for each before opening, some are dangerous enough to warrant being locked in an auramite equivalent'
>Pausing long enough, that being six nanocycles, to radiate an uncomfortable digital signature, the heavy man motions towards the pegasus before returning to the unholy task of file sorting.
'enjoy your time'

>Giving a firm nod, Raindrop's right wing extends forwards to point at your chest briefly.
"Good! There's more than enough dangers around that you won't want to have the extra weight of thinking negatively, Mallia.
Besides, it's considered an honor to share one's burdens among Free Knights and most marecenaries. If you know something and don't like it, tell me. Even if I can't aid you, I will always try."
>A subtly relieving smile on her lips holds for two seconds, glancing upwards with a marery air.
"You should know pegasi are one or two degrees warmer than most ponies. Ferron and Saddle Arabians excluded. There's also a few thousand extra blankets stored in the Enclave if you need more warmth at night."
>Eyebrows wiggling briefly, that was definite humor.
>And maybe a little bit of challenge.
>Head tilting slightly right, her gaze drops down to study your features with a solidly confident expression.
"It's settled. I hereby proclaim us marefriends; to the first of victories until the last drink!"
>Raindrop Raspberry will remember this~

>Right eyebrow arching, the left remains dangerously flat for a quarter-second as she considers your words.
"I should feel angry but knowing how limited some human worlds are for resources.. mostly, I'm annoyed. But now you get to start eating right!"

>Pointing out an organic cylinder container made from a large coastal bamboo, which the MIU blips all Terra native species had been rendered extinct, it turns out to be a finely ground blue powder.
>The scent held a cool, arid, semi-sweet and unusually earthy berry fragrance with a hint of smoke flavoring.
>Finding it tasted mostly the same, save for the smoky tang sticking longer, a local dataplex from Tracker opens, displaying zero questionable enzymes, molecules, vitamins, minerals, amino-acids, or fats present in nearly all equine foods.
>Likewise was a thorough lack of bacterium, chemicals, and a staggering variety of contaminants which were considered normal throughout Imperium standards.
>You would certainly be warned if something was questionable, and of course the scouts would want to know everything first..
>Pointing out which seafoods and fruits the saphor-stalk would taste best on, at least according to her, Raindrop motions to the second cylinder of real sea salt.
>The chili powder was a moderately spicy though tasty variety, likewise smoked for better flavor, and the second you even thought of drinks, Raindrop's wings stretch behind her, pushing two small clear bottles towards you while retaining four for herself.
>Denoting each bottle as diamond, the first one contained a slightly alcoholic apple cider of a known, healthy variety, the second listed as Crystal Empire spring water, zero contaminants other than minute crystalline traces.

>Flicking a stainless steel blade out from underneath each primary, the raspberry mare settles in to spear either fruit or seafood, one type at a time, rolling each into small leaves designated as efflo, then tosses a profusion of select spices into each before rolling it together.
>And immediately begins scarfing them down.

>>389864
>He gives a confused glance and an arched eyebrow to his AI assistant as she returns to her interfacing with the OT-4's control system.
"Noted, but I am not interested in any mares. Any advances would be pointless."

>Remaining quiet as he makes his way back to his jumpseat, he lowers himself in and props his elbows on his knees to steeple his gloves.
>As Hodch finishes his somewhat unhelpful explanation, Pareidolia begins to remark:
"... That explains its nature, but not its function. I should have been more spe-"

>Katyal, apparently irritated, interjects. He nods along with her explanation but stills and begins to sit up as the gravity of the find sets in.
"I see... then they were on the verge of uncovering and perfecting efficient Fusion equivalent energy sources. An incredible find that belies its appearance."
>He turns his visored helmet to stare at the sphere containing this apparent wonder core as he speaks to himself.
"Then the fall of the Dynasty resulted in a major technological setback and a backwards step from increasing their civilization's type ranking... "

>Rubbing his chin with his right hand he looks towards Dul as she speaks with Katyal, missing Dul's initial glance of concern.
(Likely wariness gained from experience dealing with the Dynasty's fallout on current historical affairs.)
>He subconsciously flinches as Hodch cracks the casing open despite the Sphalerite's apparent inertness.
>Regarding it with some curiosity, he assesses it with an enhanced visual picture via his helmet's camera. Katyal's question causes him to spare her a glance.
"Anything pertaining to retrieving Spiral is mission relevant, and I have no objections about sharing that kind of information. He had a combination form of both ice and crystal. Why?"

>Her reply prompts him to freeze and then turn to stare at her.
"-How?"

>>389924
>Sighing, the avatar displays a series of stillshots, Dul turning unusual and, using the basic AI's knowledge, possibly appreciative, if not more, gazes towards you while carrying the heavier objects.
>Logging a note detailing flashiness as being highly attractive to equines, and a quarter of native Tallus species, the advanced model settles for holding her face.
'Men.'

>Veritably swimming now, Hodch tosses a good natured smile your direction as both ears flick in apologetic motions.
"My apologies, that was nearly as exciting as finding pieces of a Lunar floatplate!"

>A single cross-reference and two comparisons later, 'Shiibo' bristles in an image of remarkable disgust.
'Sufficiently advanced magic should be interchangeable with equally advanced technology. Imagine variable fusion reactions, elemental or otherwise, without radiation, hazardous elements, chemical waste, or ruining the entire infrastructure chain of a country rendering near-complete autonomy from external power structures, sir.
This may be why Katyal's anger is so deeply set given her world's decently high technological basis. Carefully ask a question relating to suspected, probable, or known indicators of Empress Silver sabotaging experiments. If you find the time to.'

>Poking at the Sphalerite with increasing sureness, the woman's eyes snap high and left in recall.
"Differences between ice as a widespread, common Elemarent compared to Mystic-classed ice are the overall compression and energetic availability. Ice can be in a lot of places, but the Mystic version is far more dense, requiring suitable conditions to form. Right?"
"The simplified explanation will suffice, yes."
"Differences between crystalline materials and Rime is composition. Can't turn Rime into anything lower on the crystalline Elemarental periodic table, even after it eventually breaks down into its smallest molecular traces. Those same traces are a necessity for, uh, finish that one please?"
>Thoroughly surrounded, head barely over the piles, Hodch begins picking through the gems, tossing nearly all into a small Moon-colored gateway.
"Of course, and I'm glad you've spent some time studying. To finish her sentence: biocrystalline tissues. Each Crystal pony is born with a necessary amount of Rime which inevitably increases. Later in life, age forty or so, individuals can begin extracting those safer, stabilized traces without endangering their own biological or resonant functions. The one you are carrying is-"
>Pausing to stare upwards, he continues with slight chagrin.
"Naliyna did not have all of the necessary tools, so I would give that one an eight-point-three out of ten. Slightly above excellent, in sum."
"Uh huh. What about the other weird crystal stuff?"
"I only have knowledge from records which are openly available to Starborn and a few pieces here or there.
During the Middle Dynasty era, Crystal Lorekeepers toyed with the idea of producing a near-Rime state via careful molecular alignmarent, combined with the usage of Air and Gravity based Faux-Natural Cores. It was effectively similar to the particle synthesis methods unicorns make extensive use of, but also more crude than the human version Lonestar has described to me.
Of course, they had numerous Temples set aside for their own usage, and Silver rarely visited them outside of congratulating a major success. A significant number of explosions, flash freezse, ruined materials, altered materials, and composites which they were unsure what to do with later, a complete cluster of artificial Rime was created. Solely on accident, mind you.
Sphalerite is thus one-third between artificial Rime, the various crystalline pseudo-Cores, and the fully classified Ice Cores."
>Glancing at Void-Flux tendrils weakly pushing against the locker, and giving up upon being fully resisted, Katyal sniggers before placing an even glance onto you, pointing a finger gun at the Sphalerite in her other hand.
"Better stay there or else hornhead's gonna turn you into a bunch of filly toys.
These were designed to go either way from what I know. Even in the Damaged state there might be enough resonance, energetic availability, and compressive potential to shift it. Isn't something I'm trained for though. Or Hodch. ..are you?"
"No, and I will need your weapon once we are done sorting, Pare. Refining Lunar enchantmarents is among my most favored activities."
"Hum, nevermind. An`Meliu, any suggestions?"
>The imprint of an absurdly normal, albeit every-color-at-once butterfly appears on Katyal's head.
>Freezing, both wings flap slowly, speaking in a fast language that might as well have been distant wind gusts, the woman blinking once.
"She says the probability ranges from 'kind of likel'y to a 'good' chance. We'd have to push the alignmarent hard without disrupting the, how would you call it?"
"Partially chaos state, outside of calling it a headache. At worst I can simply dump any runoff or effluvia into a weapon."
*"Not a bad idea. What's the chances of a catastrophic release that'll flash freeze everything in back?"*
>Floating a dimly pulsing red gem to his nose, the stallion frowns.
"Not impossible, merely negligible. We would have to completely remove containmarent and fully destabilize it for such to occur. The two formerly in Canterlot are in the Faux-Natural classification, though had been physically damaged due to idiotic experimarents.
Approximately six years ago they became entirely inert, only the faintest residual traces remaining."
*"So no dying then?"*
"A one in a hundred thousand chance."
*"Good enough for me."*

>>389924
>>389944
>Placing the Sphaler Core in her lap, Katyal holds both hands palm upwards, which the mystical butterfly bends forwards at.
"Take a bottle of water and pour it into a cube mold to freeze at thirty degrees, that's this hand."
>Lifting the right up slightly.
"Now take that same volume bottle but mix a five percent salt water solution to pour into the same mold, but freeze that one at twenty-five degrees, that's this hand."
>Wiggling the left.
"Each one produces different stages of molecular alignment. Basic thermo-chemistry, I know, but consider the ramifications of what the Temples were doing, testing millions of alternate steps related to a simple process: making an ice cube.
With this we have to narrow down each factor specifically involved in creating an artificially contained but thoroughly natural Mystic-class Elemarental, something that-"
>Looking up at An`Meliu creeping forwards, the antennae twitch apart expectantly.
"She can visibly see. I think. I hope.. can you?"
>A short, tiny nod.
"I can suffice for an Earth Elemarental, Hodch... can basically do everything else. Except fo-"
>Quickly snapping to present an exasperated glare at her, the Reservist's stare reads somewhere between 'I know where you live' and 'I could eat your soul but don't want to, yet'.
>Clicking her tongue once, the woman's gaze travels right.
"Aaaaaanyway... I'm gonna inspect this thing a bit closer before I step on the wrong mine. Again."
>Picking up the Sphalerite in both hands, she leans in close, eyes closing while whispering faint, tracing words similar to Farsi.
[1d6 = 4] <B.Mysticism
[1d6 = 4]

>Poking at individual gems, Dul hoofs each over to the unicorn for safe keeping, though spares you an earth pony equivalent version of mollified.
'She has no idea what to say.'
[1d6 = 1] <Vortex Adapt
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Siren's Gaze

*"All right, gonna kick into high gear. Hodch, wipe the traces off this thing would you, just.. a little more gently than last time. And mind giving me a digital hand little lady?"*
[1d6+20 = (2+20) = 22] <Maximum Speed
[1d6+20 = (3+20) = 23]
[1d6+20 = (3+20) = 23]
[1d6+20 = (1+20) = 21]
>Ceased from their perusals, both share a 'can I stop being interrupted?' stare, the unicorn merely snorting, then waves an oblique circle in the air with one hoof.
>Distinct, forceful pressures sweep across the Landbarge's exterior, leaving a peculiar spot on top alone.
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14] <ExoTech Optronic Particle Scanner
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <GM.Mysticism: Cover-That-Which-We-Are
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]

"Happen to have any geology training, particularly identifying flawless gems? Haven't found any other unusual ones aside from the Falkite."
>Spoken towards you, the unicorn visibly intending to calm down through working rather than snap.
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <E.Research
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9]
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]

>>389944
>Taking stock of the stillshots undeniably showing changes in Dul's form, Pareidolia half scoffs and sighs with an unamused look.
"Fine. Noted."

>He opts to provide an affirmative look towards Shiibo's display rather than verbally respond to her suggestion.
(It does beg the question. With pony and Dynastic culture and resources available, they should have easily achieved success.)

>Seeing Hodch begin sorting through the gem pile, he stands and makes his way over. Kneeling to assist in the sorting process.

[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Graduate Researcher + MECCT
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]

>Other than nodding at Hodch and Katyal's explanations, he remains quiet until their lecture is complete.
"All that to say, this core happens to be the exact base composition we would need to repair that particular form of Spiral's core. The description of its creation process is yes, very similar to particle synthesis and human attempts to create or discover new elements on the periodic table."

>Ignoring Katyal's joke, he glances up from the gem pile as Hodch notes needing the only weapon in his arsenal that bears a Lunar enchantment.
"Understood."
>As the details of the process, jargon, and probabilities are discussed and finalized, he mentally notes that this is essentially a high risk, semi-uncontrolled fission experiment of some kind.
(Potential applications are staggering. But if this can be used to save Spiral then it must be.)

>>389945
>He looks up briefly at the odd companion butterfly so named "An'Meliu" as Katyal details the steps in this process, then as she begins her inspection speaks to Hodch.
"If the Dynasty under Silver's reign was conducting experiments like this at such scale, how was none of this progress kept into the present? I don't believe the other factions of this planet would have destroyed all records, and the applications of these research directions are apparent to even the uninitiated. Is there any information on Silver's own views on this work?"

>Noticing Dul's clear fish-out-of-water behavior, he shakes his head and holds up a hand to wave dismissively once.
"I wasn't expecting anything like this on this operation, you don't need to worry about contributing to something this complicated. Just keep doing what you are."

>Shaking his head at Hodch's question, he hefts a gem up for a closer inspection of any flaws on its facets.
"None. Only tangential exposure via research work involving minerals occasionally."
(Engineering typically had more interest in the practical applications of those...)

>>389966
>Creating a desk to beat her digital head against, once, the avatar gives a simple thumbs up.
'I apologize sir, yet you must be more careful regarding physical attraction vectors. I do not thoroughly understand the vagaries of Human/Pony Relations, nor the reverse interactions thereof.
However I cannot suggest being aloof nor insensitive. In order to prevent physical, verbal, and other miscommunications, there are two common protocols which display a clear lack of interest. The first option is to perform the standard earth pony soft-honored-denial motion, like so-'
>Creating an earth pony wireframe model, it makes a strangely polite, slow stamping motion with the left rear hoof, likewise devising a human version performing nearly the same.
'It translates equally. Second is to, when with a specific pony whom may, has, or will, approach you with potentially unwanted advances, state you do not have the inclination towards such in a firm yet understanding tone.'
>A raucous smirk quickly forms, then disappears.
'If you can, sir.'
>Far more seriously now, 'Shiibo' stands at a strict parade attention pose.
'There is good news. While I have determined a 0% possibility to interdict Stalliongrad-aligned humans, I am able to confirm they are either unable to, or have refused, committing action against other humans. Studying the vast number of..'
>Not purposefully trailing off in suspense, the avatar cringes as a HUGE list of criminal acts scroll by, some of which you knew, others that weren't recorded, a few.. were definitely in categories of their own.
'From the lowest misdemeanors to potentially the highest of felonies, all committed humans of Razorback. Certain ponies included and excluded.
Stalliongrad's humans are clearly maintaining abnormally high standards, possibly with self-enforced levels of decorum and honorable conduct. Tower Guard interaction is a >95% factor.'

"There i-"
"No."
>Left hand lifting instantly in a 'correction' motion, Katyal points that forefinger at Hodch beginning to speak, hard eyes flicking towards you.
>It takes her a few seconds to inhale, jaw working before releasing in subdued annoyance.
"Not quite, dude. Here's the overall picture: which side, section, alignmarent, Elemarent, or other thousand plus possibilities was Spiral's Ice, crystalline, or combined form caused by and from? Hodch doesn't know for SURE which Cores were used, otherwise he'd have said so, and we can't make a good guess without knowing a whole lot more. Add that to the other-"
>Right hand lifting upwards and circling to indicate a round helmet, pointing at you with a minute jabs, she mouths 'can't say the restricted parts out loud'.
"Portions. Razorback, and you, can only extrapolate what's been seen, heard, felt, tasted, scented, and felt around his fractional states. That leaves us with a big potential option: this."
>Poking the Sphaler Core lightly.
"Damaged, sure. But if we get the alignmarent right, we could improve the Ice, Crystal, or mixed, version of Spiral from two to five grades. Body and ka both. Maybe even mind."
>Sitting back to think rather darkly on what she'd just said, the woman grimaces in sincere pain.

"Independence from the Dynasty is one factor since some ponies didn't like the giant melting pot idea. Changelings and Crystal ponies for example. The Dynasty did work for the most part, excluding select groups, believers, or ideologues. Preferring one's own species is another, but pretty small in comparison too. Distance between Temples and City-States to everywhere else is another factor, a tiny one though.
And when it comes down to asking about living standard advancemarents, better alloys, houses, you name it, there's rarely more than glowing regards.
The dislike against Silver started off as nothing, then crept up to most viewing her as an abomination right before her self-imposed Exile. I've got records from all over Saddle Arabia, most of them just aren't contiguous. Some places loved her, others didn't.
It's a mess, dude. Nopony can make honest sense of it all. I.. can't either."
>Returning to inspecting the Core, Katyal takes on a distant, hollow stare.
>Tossing piles into the gateway, Hodch offers a brief motion indicating his neutrality in the matter.
"Mainland Equestria was barely touched by the Dynasties. From nine to ten percent of earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns became part of said Dynasties throughout those eras, whereas less than one hundred batponies joined. Their records were either kept with survivors, not shared, inaccessible at current, weren't preserved, or simply have not been found or recovered.
The Crystal Kingdom, then Empire, maintained all of their records. Bear in mind they did not have access nor any care for non-crystalline endeavors. The, quite frankly, extreme advances to proto-power crystals, ExoFrames, Crystal alchemy, and far more have, to be blunt, not been yet been overshadowed."
>Irritation tinging his last few words, the Reservist glances up to regard you with a grim face.
"As for the Rams, Sheep, Gryphons, Minotaurs, native Harpies, and Basiks, among others, they do not willingly speak of those eras aloud. We don't pry because their good graces are far more valuable.
In a completely dissimilar fashion, Saddle Arabia had a small number of Temples and City-States, mostly in the Great Sand regions. Those became utterly ruined, though nothing like the Eastern Equestria ruins."

>Visibly perking at your words, the Siren takes on an appreciative cast before continuing her work... which had been quite poor judging by the number of times Hodch had to reexamine the possibly magical ones she'd taken for being normal.
"Dul try not think bad. Dul also not do sorting.. often."
>Rolling the word around several times, she finally nods at achieving a decent similarity to the times it had been spoken aloud.
"Often. Older Sirens do sorting. Young Sirens not good at it."
[1d6 = 3] <Vortex Adapt
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Siren's Gaze

>>389966
>>389970
"Not to worry, it is rather nice to have something to do which isn't frustrating. Or soul-burning."
>Setting a snidely bombastic side-eye on Katyal, whom suddenly busies herself with patting the mystic butterfly's wings, Hodch grins.
"Then, if you would like, I can explain the proper visual indicators to determine specie, composition, magical inherency, and the variety of cues to understanding crystalline materials, magical or Mystical gems, and various others. My knowledge extends primarily to those found in Equestria, Saddle Arabia, the Crystal Empire, Gryphon Kingdoms, and a majority from the Minotaur Hegemony as well as the Dragonspine Mountains.
Certain Planes are included, although I have little knowledge on Extra-Planar.. and I do not like the Eldritch ones."
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <E.Research
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13]

>Eyes turning to regard the piece of neon blue-white quartz like object holding station a foot from his head, the stallion's mood turns furious, albeit rather controlled.
"Falkite, archaic. Twice refined, quite rare. Poorly understood, near-Mystic metamaterial caused by extreme interactions between Lightning and the most solid version of cloud material. Only found underneath the largest, oldest, and most active cloud cities. They are often regarded as holy objects among the more traditional pegasi, and I have found no reason to state they are not.
Before the Batpony-Pegasi League's civil war, which I do NOT know enough to attempt explaining, one piece of Falkite was traditionally given to every pegasi upon their foaling during a ritual. After said civil war, Falkite no longer formed. For what reason none know, only that less than two percent of modern pegasi have inherited one. The Ferron as a whole have less than a thousand.
Falkite acts similarly to the natural amount of Rime in Crystal ponies, aiding in the natural pegasi acclimation towards both Air, as the Elemarental, and the Airstreams. Not only did a pegasi receive instruction in how to become one with the Airstreams, they also had vastly heightened knowledge and capacity to utilize Air Elemarental containing objects to their utmost. Your Tempest Orb included.
Both the Lunar Guardians and Solar Guardians had select, highly specialized units whom were issued engraved, twice-refined Falkite in specific geometric designs. They were named the 'Airstrike Divisions' due to a capability which allowed extremely long distance Air Elemarental strikes and light bombardmarents. However, there are no known Airstrike Falkite pieces remaining in the modern era.
I would request that Pareidolia and Lonestar debate whom the most deserving pegasi of Razorback is, and deliver it to them, but now is likely not the time to do so."

>Remaining quiet throughout, Lone eases the driver's side sliding door open to glance back.
>Holding his reservations and surveying moods for a bit, his head shakes, flicking on the holographic bubble to continue pushing the Landbarge's limitations.
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26] <Maximum Speed
[1d6+20 = (4+20) = 24]
[1d6+20 = (2+20) = 22]
[1d6+20 = (2+20) = 22]

>>389918
>Pausing in her cleanup of the mess she caused to give Lila a side eye, Amy pondered the prospect of actually leaving.
"...I'm sure this time will be the one."
>Amy said that every time.
>The filly smiled suddenly at the second estimate.
"She would."
>Despite her complaints, Amy felt that the Baroness genuinely did enjoy her visits, and would continue to make them long after herself and Lilamaredre were gone.
>Her thoughts were interrupted catching the end of Lila salivating over the prospect of getting snoot first into a blast furnace, gasping with faux shock.
"Perish the thought! We'll figure something else out."

>Amy sheepishly handed over the soaked coals one by one, guilty expression on her face, though she couldn't hide her sheer lack of regret for the outcome.
>Perhaps she could have achieved the same effect without involving water?
>No, Lila would have seen the empty glass. The threat really did have to be real.

>Amy turned back to the meeting room door with an acknowledging ear twitch and a barely contained mischievous giggle.
>She played along with the Baroness, apparently, acting as if she weren't just privy to the Kaos that had happened.
"Good evening Baroness! That sounds lovely."
>Upon hearing that King Tachell would not be arriving, Amy sighed.
"Aww."

>>389973
>Knocking the table over, biting the edge, then dragging it back to, about, where it should be, Lilamaredre fluffs out her wings in a suitably snooty motion.
"The Baroness has no reason to lie, and it was not her fault the previous tunnels collapsed, lead to dead ends, or were already inhabited."
>Stilling to marentally calculate the possibility of continued visits, the filly's lips turn into a wavy S.
"Poooossible. At least until your sire and dam continue their physically aggressive disagreemarents. She does not find those distasteful, only strange. And peculiar. Also more than a Bit awkward."
>Barely hiding a glower towards you, her pupils return to a mostly normal expanded state.
"I was promised FLAMES, unending and unyieling. And I do not FEEL them."
>...she hadn't overheard that one's ranting, right?

>Finding the courage to not gag when the last puck was set on her wing, Lila high trots directly towards the den's exit door, nudging it open and disappearing.
>A solemn, half-whine of pure, absolutely pained disgust takes place.
>She'd be fine.
>Probably.
>Maybe not.

>Eyeing the open door while both ears swivel backwards to listen, the Baronnes immediately ditches her official demarenor.
>Stepping forwards to offer her intensely amused, wiggling snout, she cracks a marginally pleased smile.
"Do not worry, I will ensure your sire and dam have plenty. We have recovered three small caches from before lockdown, though it will take some time to properly, as you call it, *gift* them."
>Returning to vague seriousness now, the mare's head shakes briefly, then motions with her chin backwards, speaking quietly.
"Your sire and dam are discussing what can safely be sent with Lilamaredre. They are still unsure which materials are best suited to resisting her exposure."
>Now using her normal tone afterwards, she clears her throat before dipping her head at the couches.
"Mm-MM. May I be seated when you find the time to, please? And sadly I did not ask Tachell for details, though perhaps I should have. There are still hundreds of Gates which were damaged or merely fell into states of disrepair. Even if I would normally shout at his miraculous abilities to somehow find 'anything else to do', he seemed fairly serious.
While that alone was not alarming, the elder Shades and Kratha did not know which Gate he indicated should be rebuilt. It was-"
>Checking the door again, Lilamaredre was wringing her feathers out, one by one.
>Suppressing a snort at the pegasi's intensely deep distaste of water, the Baroness smiles politely.
"Somewhere in the Fifth Ring, Outskirts, Sector Fifty-Three. To be quite honest my memory is beginning to slip, but I do not specifically recall a Gate being placed nor set there. I am getting quite old though."

>>389974
>Not that she thought the Baroness was lying, she just found it funny that something always seemed to get in the way of them leaving, though she wasn't entirely displeased. Amethyst didn't mind staying longer, even if the prospect of exploring other places was very appealing, particularly the idea of finally visiting the Moors.
>Amy once again threw up her hands in placative surrender at Lila's glowering, laughing as she left to deal with the wet coals.

>Turning to see the Baroness offering her snout, Amethyst's hand acted without conscious thought, shooting out immediately to lightly boop the snoot.
>It was a wholly irresistable urge, she told herself. She knew what else was an irresistable urge, the urge to acquire gifts, as the very second the Baroness uttered the word, she responded immediately.
">:3"
>Amethyst would love nothing more than to rummage through the caches for yet more gifts, yet she got the distinct sense that the opportunity would not arise, she would have to acquire gifts elsewhere.
>Adopting a more serious mood herself, Amy gestured towards the couch.
>With the Guardsman puppet.
"Please, make yourself at home."
>Tachell finding anything else to do sounded more and more like he was unwilling to subject himself to the Kaos Amy was frequently responsible for inflicting on any and all in what she cheerfully referred to as her 'area of effect', but still even odds there really were better things to do.
>Perking up mishievously at her ponderings on 'getting too old', the ipotane piped up.
"If your memory's going, can I have all the forbidden looore now?~"
>She slid a meaningful side eye at Lilamaredre, hoping the aging Baroness would catch her very heavy handed meaning.
>Though she would settle for any forbidden lore at all.

>>390038
>Face scrunching at the contact, the mare's eyes gleam contently, though immediately glances sideways to check on Lilamaredre.
>Whom was in dire straits, having no option other than to steam her wings clean rather than dry off normally.
>It was going to take the pegasus a Bit.

"Thank you my dear."
>Delivering a short, slight bow towards the Guardsman, and you, the Baroness picks the closest one, taking the most efficient strides possible.
>Shifting onto the pleasant cushion longways and grimacing at the effort, she shuffles back enough to lie on the edge with a pained sigh.
>She'd become far less mobile than you remember her being.
>Head swinging and turning both eyes to gaze at the table, her ears twitch.. deviously.
"Weeeelll... I suppose there is little danger in revealing those secrets which could easily be attributed to merely being careless."
>Moving about to find a more comfortable sitting position, the mare's expression brightens, left forehoof crossing the right.
"You know the majority of Gates have been destroyed by external forces, but rarely have I been asked this question: 'by what?' Ninety-six percent of attackers were Extra-Planar, and three percent are Planar. The remainder typically leave once they realize the consequences of destroying a Gate, though there have been Corrupted or Tainted whom have tried.
Extra-Planar beings are incomprehensible, far more so than Eldritch, yet you know the dangers of attempting to understand That Which Should Not Be. While both abide by physical laws which vary greatly, Extra-Planars are, by and large, exceptionally difficult to harm. The majority are individuals, some hive-minds, linked, or bonded, and then 'other'. Do not try to understand their minds, nor motivations.
Most are attracted to unique energy sources and ritual items which they seek to claim for themselves, yet they never use such. Not even the dragons or oldest Half-Shades understand why.
In the time I have been here, one-hundred and sixty or so were destroyed, and six-hundred fifty-three have been damaged. It takes considerable effort to repair each Gate and ward them against intrusion. You know how difficult it is to acquire materials from the Wells, let alone locating intact older sections from when King Tachell-"
>Horn alighting in swirling patterns, the scene of that particular dragon crashing through several gates in the 2nd Ring plays, complete with flailing legs, tail, and his utterly dumbfounded stare, the Baroness snorts amusedly.
"Mistakenly breached between three of the Tunnels to crash, ruining half of my life's work. Nor can we use Kerbann wood as even the smallest piece is far too precious.
There is of course-"
>Nodding towards the replaced tableware with a curious snout wiggle, then motioning at the already dissipating shards which had been the skylight window.
"That. Despite how fragile crysamare is against physical force, when properly aligned and solidified by those with knowledge of resonant properties, it becomes nearly indestructible against the Elemarents, most forms of magic including Sorcery, Crystal Runes, along with the-"
>Side eyeing the den window briefly, her head shakes with a thin smile.
"Blood magic and other unusual capabilities of batponies. Thus, in order to make crysamare equally durable to physicality and energies alike, what you must do is crystallize the first layer, sorcerously imbue the second, enchant the third, then combine all three disciplines with the fourth using any of the common blood rituals dedicated to strengthening. Always repeat this in multiples of four."

>Checking on Lila again, she was currently lying down and basking, limbs outstretched, also visibly trying to decide something.
>Beyond her, the short wall, next house, and dozens of Kerbann trees were fluctuating in darker tones, signifying evernight was soon to begin.
>Making zero effort to hide her indignation at the pegasi's laziness, the Baroness sniffs once, then whispers in short, calm and unhurried tones.
"Before I left and after I ordered the Wells to be opened, hundreds of caches were dispersed near each Gate. I do not blame King Tachell for causing them to be sent through the Tunnels, only myself.
If you desire to search them out, there are two methods: when singing or displaying Crystal Runes, change the resonance to locating heavy, slow vibrations, similar to the Gates during Moonfall. The second is to seek out sorcerous wards bearing heraldry and sigils of preservation. Both are difficult to mistake.
Some are likely the property of others whom are unable to open them, yet you should be able to easily trade for each. And, I do not know where they might have landed. There may be a fair number spread throughout the Minotaur Hegemony, the Crystal Kingdom, across Equestria, the Gryphon Kingoms, the Ferron Navarchy, and much of the Northern Moors."

>Sitting back to consider what might truly be forbidden, at least until now, her eyes mostly close, this time speaking in a firm, low tone.
"King Tachell is not the only Blackwatcher. Two more Otherworld dragons delved far too deeply into Void. One was captured by the Middle Navarchy as he fled, the other retreated into the Dragonspines. I do not doubt they ripped each scale off before they could be fully contaminated. That is why he remains here.
Among the Crystal Kingdom there are Rime-tainted lineages originating from the Conclaves. They will bear neither heraldry nor family crest. Do not speak to them as they cannot hear. Grace them, and they shall sing.
Find somepony of the Overdark to investigate Cloudwatch Bastion. It was set adrift on purpose to prevent the Blind from destroying what they created there; great weapons which not even the Navarchy could produce. It may now be calmed enough to explore.
Should you find yourself lost anywhere in the Moors, sing without words. There is one whom will always finds you, but be warned: she is much prettier than the others and you may not want to leave her home."

>>389966
>>389970
>>389971
>Picking up a partially cut ruby in a rough baguette shape, a series of minute, hairline speckles across one face are easily seen, though could be recut to present a considerably more valuable gem.
>Sifting through a fair number more while tossing the unsuitables to Hodch, you come across a fascinating, dimly pulsing orange-yellow oval, the hues slowly changing from one to the other, then mixing in swirling patterns.
>Inspecting it closely, not a single visible flaw was visible while minute traces of something akin to pressure emanate from it.

>Sparing a few seconds to glance over, Hodch resumes his agreeable teacher's tone.
"Precisely like that one. No Elemarental traces, tiny amount of an active field-state, and completely unmodified. This shipmarent is a bit unusual so far, at least compared to what Equestrian mines offer. There is one flawless per every three hundred or so."

>>389970
>He furrows his brow slightly as Katyal's correction highlights overlooked variables.
"I see."
(Details of relevant variables are outside my scope of study, clearly.)

>>389971
>In response to Hodch's offer, he nods as he returns to sorting.
"Please. Those from the Dragonspine may be particularly relevant."

>Hodch's lecture provokes a possible theory in Pareidolia's mind.
(... These descriptions of Falkite and Sphalerite imply all ponies may have some sort of fundamental elemental accretion or combination material that enables them to more effectively respond to their associated element.)
>However his request to bestow the Falkite to a Razorback pegasi pulls him from his contemplation.
"That is beyond my capability to determine, but I'll keep that in mind."

>>390083
>Passing the pulsing oval gem to a nearby pile of other apparently notable gems, he replies while carrying on.
"Then, do gems like that one act as contained energy sources to be drawn from? If the origin of this shipment isn't Equestrian, are there any other pattern traces?"

[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Graduate Researcher + MECCT
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]

>>390089
>Hopping off the chair to place the Sphaler Core in her upright locker, Katyal turns around to give an artless shrug, then kneels down to begin digging into the pile.
"Sorry man. Don't know how to explain further without causing you-know-what to you-know-what. In real short terms: it gives you three a way better chance of recovering him."
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <E.Thievery
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <E.Perception
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]

>Carelessly letting himself be buried in the stacks, Hodch struggles to free a hoof for several seconds.
"Of course, and I may as well do a class shortly. Admittedly it took me a while to read what happened in the Boneyard. Economically speaking, the Dragonspine Mountains Mining Corporation, held by most of their nobles, only trades large amounts of gems to select factions and countries with lower stocks, allowing them to be competitive when trading against metals.
That way they maintain better relations without appearing to be greedy. While most dragons, Planar, Otherworld, and native alike, technically are, there is a rather simple if amusing explanation: specific metals conduct both physical and magical temperatures with well known properties. Composites from such are greatly valued, more so than actual treasure, which the Dragonspine Legions produce in select quantities."

>Left eye making rather sordid twitches, the unicorn frowns.
"It was a thought and request, not a demarend."

>Sending heaps of regular gems into the small gateway, which you notice was most likely one of the restricted Enclave buildings, Hodch makes enough room around himself to take a short break, reaching up to rub his snout.
"Flawless in particular? Not quite, no. Flawless gems are considered to be a either a neutral or anti-Elemarental. They occur when conditions are virtually perfect, yet do not produce an Elemarnetal.
As for Mystic-classes or other similarly esoteric containing ones, yes, though great care must be taken not to completely drain such a source, otherwise they would be rendered inert and fracture apart."
>Lifting nearly a hundred in a circle to survey, the Lunar unicorn gives a slow nod.
"Feathers, talons, great strength, moderate endurance. I believe this shipmarent was most likely sent during the Gryphon Kingdoms' Consolidation era, which existed roughly about the middle of the Early Dynasty, to sometime before the end of the Middle Dynasty. Both the number of flawless, averaging three to four per thousand, and the well cut or lustrous ground facets fit that time period.
Gryphon gem-cutters were no uncommon at the time, and they refused to cut difficult facings, of which I have seen a decent number so far."
>Gazing back to eye Katyal's progress, checking on Dul whom was now studiously picking out the rare flawless ones with perfect accuracy, the stallion rolls his shoulders out, preparing himself.
"Given the two-point-five standard tons of gems or so, this will most certainly be a Citadel worthy class. Katyal, feel like being a student once more?"
"Fuck yeah I do! Better than trying to figure out the weird Eyeraq pesudo-gems. Or the Dominion Plane's bullshit... ...just screw that Plane sideways."
"I hope you do not, that would be HIGHLY unnecessary.
Now then, here is one example of each natural, non-magical, non-Mystical gem. You will note that, unlike the majority found on human worlds, the exceptionally wide varieties of preformed shapes are most common. On Tallus, geometric formations are considered the norm due to greater yet more tightly controlled molecular variables.
Damaged gems are quite uncommon, meaning a condition or two was insufficient; whether temperature variations, proper cooling time, an elemarent off by a percent or so, a heavy Elemarental in close proximity, or merely Gravity being a zero-point-one degree fraction different in order to form properly.
Here is one of each specific gem, excluding those formed by creatures or conditions which are difficult to replicate. Such wide varieties are quite normal: fifty percent lower valued gems, twenty percent normal gems, ninteen percent precious, and one percent exceptional, also known as near flawless-"
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Senior Dragonspine Mountains
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Graduate Elemarentals
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Teacher Geology
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Graduate Tallus Planar Materials
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]

>Mindlessly continuing her suddenly spot-on sorting duties, Dul stares up at the unicorn with the face only a complete, yet incredibly eager novice would have.
[1d6 = 5] <Tallus Acclimation
[1d6 = 1] <Vortex Adapt

>>389743

>Clemency paces around while watching the satellite image scroll to the coordinates and for further communications from Jeff
>However, nothing else comes through the Moon orb
>Shaking his head and sighing, he goes back to trying to figure out these coordinates
>He stops when he notices the vibrant colors
>Thinking to himself how strange, he tries to focus on the forest
>He thought about how the colors and the trees and foliage covering and twisting on itself almost seems as if it was trying to confuse the viewer or hide something
>As satellite finally settles on the exact center of coordinates given, he sees more of the foliage but now a weird amount of movement
>Clemency tries to focus the M-S.O.L.G on the green oval, hopefully to get a clearer picture of it and whatever is moving around it

>>389722
>Glancing through the visor, he hears and notices the Lunar ponies fly up and outwards
>"They must have started to notice Jeff and Emerald missing..."
>Clem makes his way towards the group and figures out the lead
>Lont was also there, fair enough given the Crystal pony involvement in this mess
>He head towards the lead
"Excuse me, y'all are starting to search for Jeff? I've got in contact with him. Got his exact coordinates but he's underground. Central Deep Moors and a whole hell away from matrices and civilization."
>He then pulls his notebook out and shows the lead the coordinates
"I saw what's over there, albeit in a top-down way. There's a ton of vibrant foliage, trees all covering each others canopy and some movement."
>After relaying the info, Clem focuses on the visor HUD and inspects the green oval, if the M-S.O.L.G. can focus in on it

>>390078
>Mere moments after the Baroness had taken her seat, and careful not to comment on or react to her mobility issues, Amy crumpled and got comfortable on the floor, head propped up in her hands and lightly kicking her hind legs.
>Oh filly, lore time!

>Listening attentively, Amy began making mental notes of everything the Baroness said for later transcription and possible application once she had mastered the relevant principles.
>As bothersome as she found it that she shouldn't try to understand what shouldn't be understood, she knew better than to question the Baroness on these matters, particularly as she had already explained the perils to her when she was younger.
>Amy struggled to suppress her laughter at the conjured image that came next, King Tachell's expression in particular given so serious a matter very nearly sending her sides into orbit.
>Whatever orbit was supposed to be here.
>Following the Baroness's nod, Amy grinned again. The best thing about crysamare was that it was self cleaning no matter how much Kaos she and Lila got up to, which was often.

>Her description of the caches had her interest, and her ears twitched, fascinated with the prospect of more gifts.
"Do you know what kind of gifts we can expect to find in these caches?"
>Trembling with excitement, Amy held her breath in anticipation of truly forbidden lore. The Void. The Black. Not that such things truly troubled the ipotane, she couldn't sneak to save her life, so she couldn't even enter the underdark, let alone the lower levels of that spectrum.
>Mysterious Crystal Ponies, lost armories and, apparently, what she surmised was a very charming bat pony hermit.
>She looked up at the Baroness, eyes sparkling with admiration for all the forbidden lore she knew and was sharing.
"Wow, you know so much, where did you learn all of this?"

>>390127
>Beaming at the contact, Pren's face contorts into a half confused, half blank stare.
<Spaneigh> "The Alicorn Dynasty? Beginning, Central, Ending, and Lost eras?"
>Mildly resetting her, snout wiggling several times as she returns to a good natured expression, the mare's shoulders lift nonchalantly.
<Spaneigh> "Don't think I have ten years to explain, so instead I'll just say this much: about two thousand years or more of stuff that had nothing to do with most of Tallus. Argenta didn't like the Otherworld alicorn at all, and swore she'd drop a bunch of Giant Armored Reefthorns on her if she ever showed up again. At least I think that's how the story went."

>Head swiveling to take precisely one look at the satchels, she glances past you for a quick check of an arriving group, mostly earth pony mares in darker colors, offering a short greeting as they clop by.
<Spaneigh> "Of course! That's sea salt. Usually scraped off boulders whenever there's enough to collect, from small rocky flats, or seawater reduced by boiling in a big pan. Fairly inefficient doing it that way, though some like the extra smoky scent. Or taste. Sometimes both."
>Of course.

<Spaneigh> "Not sure what I was expecting this early. Two big deliveries to-"
>Whistling at the mares calling offers for a quick explanation, the names of Villa de Rosa and Pace Arroyos were given.
<Spaneigh> "One is waiting on armed escorts for exploring the ruins of Chica te Lansi way north of here, other is traveling to Dos Burros, which is really humid right now, and the pair over there is going to Longstamps way up the coast but they need an EnKee translator.
Last is requesting a group to track down and kill a Beleram-Ha, somewhere up the beach a ways from here. It's been causing trouble for a while now, scaring off beach combers during the day and raiding any campfires it sees for food. The big Lunar ship left a week ago and they were coming back to hunt down a few other problem causers, but they haven't returned yet."
>Eyeing you up and down rapidly, Sallinas gives a subdued head shake.
<Spaneigh> "Not sure I can let you do any of those four without a lot better equipmarent, unless you have some great armor and weapons at home along with a few friends. Do you have an Argentum honor-chain or Coalition hoofstamp?"

>>390135
>Background data on degraded systems, a request for replacement weaponry, and finally full details of catastrophic reactor damage read out.
>Stabilizing after numerous micro-adjustments, the 40MM lens zooms in to maximum:
>What might have been a giant, flattened snail shell was instead a dull green, cloudy mass, completely untouched by the surrounding flora for a distance, and was distinctly neither approached nor patrolled judging by untouched ground.
>On the far south, a barely humanoid, pulsing green figure partially covered in jet black vines, ripples of energetic pulses emanating from it, steps forwards.
>Halting after three lumbering steps, the head turns right almost ninety degrees, vast swarms of tiny creatures, far too many to begin trying to count, seemingly fleeing the shell and dispersing southwest, southeast, or directly south.

>Finding absolutely nothing during the rapid, albeit poorly organized search pattern, the majority of larger pegasi land to peer into the Village's other buildings, the lightest flapping off in irregular V's.
"The WHERE?!"
"No bloody way-"
>Silencing the near-instantly bristling ranks of Chargers and Lancers with a piercing whistle, the leadmare's eyes tighten behind diamond lenses, first at you, then at the nearest Lunars, uneasily shifting in their armor.
"That entire region is so far beyond the phrase 'off limits' I am hereby ordering all ponies to forget what was stated!
Your mate tried to travel east from Tidelock's outermost bogs, once. She achieved barely half an hour's flight before using an emergency translocation rune. A sixth of her did not return!"
>Vocally more concerned, the Charger lead's helmet tips back to groan loudly.
"Then however he got there he better return the same way because there's maybe twenty individuals that can even THINK of traveling into the Deeps. Not even Moonflanks dares it!"
"Could a Primal could be swayed into rescuing him?"
>Head whipping around to snap at the offending mare near her, the older Lancer's tone changes to reasonably infuriated.
"After what we have all witnessed tonight, which of their number would you deem marentally stable and capable enough to perform such a delicate recovery?! A minuscule slip or mistake and neither would return!"
"The Void Naghtmares, would they be able to take a crashdown there and deliver a rune?"
"Possibly, but do you know where they are?"
"No, I do not."
"Then I will state this: Two-Stripes gave both to somepony last year, yet they have not been returned."
"Both? I thought there were four in total?"
"Brush up on post-Lunar Guardian history more often. Luna cannot allow a certain one out longer than a minute due to severe contamination, and the other was never recovered."
>Armored knee lifting to rub her chin, which takes her a few seconds to realize was blocked by helmet, the young Charger sighs, then nods upwards.
"That's a list of definitely not going to happens. Why not travel there in Guillotine?"
"She has sworn herself to safeguarding the Arenas first, and striking against invading Constructs second. No more, and certainly no less."
"...we could try to summon Ferokshi."
>While you'd heard the name from Twisted once, her only advice was to politely state you are leaving, calmly turn around, then sincerely move in any direction it wasn't currently traveling.
>Not one Lunar moves, let alone breathes, until a pegasi on the roof screams downwards, wings raised and blades rattling together in sincere threat.
"SAY THAT THAT MONSTER'S NAME AGAIN I'LL EAT YOUR FEATHERS!"
"Whatever makes you happy, little horse. Last option it is: Ieyz."
>That name wasn't one you could think of, even with the strange pronunciation.
>Nearly every Lunar steps backwards or to the side from the younger mare, though most take two, or three, excluding the motionless, utterly confused pegasi above.
>The leadmare whirls around while snarling out her words, front hoof stomping once, then pointing accusingly at the Charger.
"In what veritably insane reality could you think that degenerated creature is capable of acknowledging the existence of one not his own species!? Chuz`Ain is difficult, that I will admit freely, yet the Kraal is corrupted beyond any capacity to speak with as an equal!"

>Twisting sideways and up, the Charger's helmet twitches side to side, visibly removing herself out of the Lunar Overherd.
"Screw ALL of you then!"
>Delivering a loud, contempt-ridden snort, the Charger storms north from the Lunar ranks, gaze firmly set beyond you.
"I'm going to the Citadel and requesting a meeting with Durandal whether or not the Council likes it! If there's a tiny chance that Emissary will know what it is!"
>Halting next to you, the mare hisses in grim warning tones.
"Not a word about him being missing, especially not where he's at, to any being, living, Undead, Elemarental, Naghtmare, or all others that you don't have complete trust in!"

>Thoroughly undeterred from carving in names across the southern entrance, a short, giddy young mare's laughter is heard among the hundreds of batponies, the inconsistent mix of EnKee and Common Equestrian rather confusing as conversations flow.
"Ferr-hock is a jerk anyways!"
"Didn't he carry a castle for somepony once?"
"No, that was a League tower-"
"Those old ones are so BORING! Why don't they ever do anything?!"
"I know something that'd be really fun!"
>Hundreds of tufted ears immediately flick, diamond-slitted eyes regarding the unseen speaker impatiently.. for not even half a second before an exasperated stallion calls out.
"Which is?"
[1d100 = 25] <KEK
>Snicker-kekking an exceptionally long string that you couldn't translate, small groups of Chargers and Lancers begin leaving, few showing more than fatigue, though the leadmare listens intently.
>Her annoyed shout is drowned by raucous cackling, a hundred carvers climbing up the Basin's southern building walls, leaping off to streak northwards.
>Yep, it was definitely time to ignore them.

>>390172
>Finding the wood suitably cool underneath you, at least for the next five, maybe even ten minutes, the elder mare's eyes half-lid in deep thought... completely forgetting the scene.
>Which replays several times.
"Materials, primarily. Middle and hi-alloys from the Hegemony, weaves from Neighsa, lifeblaze from the Harpies. Most of the Elemarental metals. Chunks of Promynkrake. Potent gems for equipmarent. Ingots of most composites; sapphirine, diamondine, rubynine.
Songstream from the Dominon Plate. Shatterflux from the Vortex. Ethereal crysometals, stolen of course. Sheets of quad-plated crysamare and silverine will be rare however, we used most of those upon arriving. You may find a few Elemarental plates as well, which I do not regret taking.
Wish I could remember all of what we thought was necessary... ah, each was also packed with one week of food for a full team of five, though none will be crystalline enough to satisfy you."

>Blinking out of her reverie, the facing shoulder's muscles tighten as she finally dismisses the magical rewview.
>Both eyebrows raise, then relax as she speaks in a faux-cryptic voice, leaning forwards with conspiratorial lip curls.
"Myself, for one! Tachell is far different than what he used to be. I do not think he can exit for longer than one Tallus hour, unless a suitably vast, Void-touched region exists and will accept him. His condition cannot be trusted to the Elemarentals nor Planars which would, wrongfully, consider him a danger.
Extrapolation for the second. I have visited with your dam enough to consider what she does not say openly. Despite the horrors Rime has caused, there was indeed some good to be found from it.
Third, there are older Shades whom, from time to time, reminisce over what they had seen, overheard, and scented. I merely noted pieces and placed most of the puzzle together.
The fourth-"
>Sternly examining the window, skylight, last the front door without moving her head, the Baroness makes a slight hoof motion, one used to indicate Legionaries weren't close by.
"I do not know whether anypony may truly comprehend their words, but I sincerely believe some have met an Unspoken. Marely were destructive, terrifying beings, even to the dragons, Harpies, and Kra`ken of old. Yet, there did exist a number whom were neutral in the battles for supremacy, those chose not to take a side. I know little other than the faintest of rumors, that being a few whom were most gentle."

>Meeting room door opening, your dam nearly bounces out, halting to deliver a quick, ringing rearward kick to armored plating.
>Shin, most likely.
>Tossing a raspberry at the exasperated, non-committal grunt behind her, she continues towards the table, stopping to give the unicorn a quick yet suitably welcoming nod.
>It was easily enough to feel the wide smile, and her giddy subtones were close to being infectious.
"We've sorted out everything and made sure the sleds are well protected!"
"Have you ensured nothing could fall out? Or in?"
"That won't happen, I ninety-nine percent guarantee it!"
>Half-stepping out, your sire's decorated helmet swivels towards his opposite, now busying herself with nudging the table, sofa, and couches into a perfect triangle.
>Lowering a dangerous fraction, a single exasperated burst of static occurs before partially turning to pull on a heavy, tightly woven Kerbann rope.
>One of the floating, longhouse-like structures glides out the meeting room, barely four hooves above floorboards, the second securely attached by another rope, half the first's length, to a heavily overbuilt drop pin.
>They must have 'moved' the workshop next to the meeting room, which was weird.
>Dragged into view at the den's rear door, the sleds were definitely something.
>Overburdened was a word, but it also wasn't the right one.
>Completely filled?
>No, there was PLENTY of space left in the second.. the left gauntlet tightens.
>Oh, he knew.

>Closing the meeting room door with a short hand motion, your sire exhales a blast of air through the front grill, reaching up to tear his helmet off and snapping it onto the overly wide belt's side.
>Partially turned, he eyes the pair in dead seriousness, swirls of local anti-Elemarentals retreating briefly.
>The slightest nod is given as he directs most portions of thought towards the den.
"If these should somehow be damaged, I will not be available to repair them. And you had best not ask to ride the Baroness, Amy, she will be entirely devoted to determining which path is safest."
>Ears flat, snout scrunched, one cheek twitching, the Baroness directs a desperately-trying-not-to-laugh face past you.
>Rather than summoning an object to beat her head against like normal, she exhales. Slowly.
>Neither dam, sire, nor pegasi outside so much as dares to speak about the multiple snickers throughout.
"I p-promised a fffffeast, and i-it is delivered!"
>Waving towards the table as her barrel heaves, a giant platter loaded with speckled green roots, thin reddish-purple stalks, precisely eighteen round nuts, and a selection of the finest Kerbann slices sprinkled with white flakes arrives, drops down.
>Much too heavily, you note as your dam's snout crinkle angrily, though none of the bowls underneath it fracture.
"Lila, shall you join us?"
"Even if you don't need to eat it would be rude to refuse, especially since she brought the best stuff!"
"In a.. ...shortly!"

>Clonking around the sofa to seat himself from its larger side, shifting precisely two and a half times, Dalli sets a hard gaze against the rare, tasty, yet thoroughly vegetarian options.
>The glance travels down, to the right onto you, left, back onto you, then back, all in a quarter-second.
>Finally sitting down on the other couch across from him, two crystalline eyes narrow.
"Don't. Even. Say. It."
>Fully expecting imminent violence, the Baroness reaches out with her left forehoof, patting the other cushion twice, all the while being utterly serene.
"If you would take the first, I would be honored."

>>390216
>Alloys, ores, weaves gems and other materials, but no manufactured objects. No matter, if it was shiny, then it was a gift.
>Though she wondered if the food would still be good after being left so long, unless it was in some form of stasis.
>Amy sat quiety and let the Baroness think, entertaining herself by watching the projection, focusing on different portions of it with each replay, and still trying not to laugh.

>Just as the Baroness finished detailing the sources of the lore she knew, Amy quirked an ear towards the door, twitching amusedly at her parents shenanigans.
>Before curiously perking up at the details of the sleds.
>Ninety-nine percent guaranteed meant one percent certainty of further gifts.
>Since lore time was over, Amy rolled over on her back and sat up in her peculiar way, tail swishing out of the way as she did so.
>As she gazed at the extra space, she imagined all the extra gifts she could fill it with, and if she rod-
>Amy caught the gauntlet tightening and entirely failed to prevent her ears from making movements that loosely translated to I-have-been-caught-with-my-hand-in-the-crystal-chip-jar-again.

>Hearing her father's stern pre-emptive reproachment before Amy could even voice the request she had later planned to make, Amy released an explosive and utterly defeated sigh, flopping back on the floor limply.
>As she spoke, her words came out echoed and laden with static as though spoken through a vox grill.
"Squad broken!"
>Taking a moment to ignore the food in favour of wallowing in defeat, Amy could not long refuse the food's allure and sat up again, standing and making her way to the table, but not before transferring the puppet from her hand to the top of her head, the puppet inexplicably remaining affixed there despite her head movements.
>She momentarily clapped her hands together once over the food and turned to the Baroness again, thankfully.
"Squad morale restored!~"
>Amethyst did not even hesistate in selecting the Kerbann slices.

>>390256
>Memorizing the ten second scene, PARTICULARLY the flailing, chunks and partially intact sections of a truly ancient Gate were visible above, down and right of, and far left from the nearly blackened falling dragon.
>Equally fascinating, all of Tachell's scales, horns, and claws were covered in long, blistered streaks, spreading fractures, and pulsating starbursts.
>The variety of blues, purples, and faint reds was indicative of extreme Void exposure, though in the past few years he'd recovered somewhat.
>Studying the utter hapless, or was it helpless, stare of an individual considering their truly, remarkably dumb decisions in midfall, the Otherworld King was most certainly not expecting to break through face first.

>Relaxing as much as he could in the bulky armor, Dalli raises a slightly morose eyebrow at you.
>Quick hand signs describe a need to always leave some space in case of unexpected and particularly interesting shinies.
>Or, better yet, tasty foods.
>The next phrase, which you knew wasn't going to be understood by either mare, was interesting: always check saddle for comfort.

>Snickering at the tones, the Baroness freezes, then places forehooves outstretched as if she hadn't broken her outwardly noble demarenor.
>Lilamaredre was probably watching by now.
"I do not quite understand how you do that."
"It's all in the tones, Baroness. Remember when I, erm, convinced the Legion that they should open the smaller Wells?"
>Not quite critical, and long over being annoyed, the elderly mare's snout twitches sideways.
"...yes, I do. And while that was most amusing, it did take some time for them to realize you did not perfectly copy my voice."
>Left hand flicking once, a shortened, carefully prepared summoning takes place overhead, the next skylight pane thunking down.
>Glancing at the platter once more, a morose, pointed human stare meets apprehensive, briefly confused horsewife.
"I am not angry, however I must point out this feast is strictly vegetarian. Amy requires a more diverse, fulfilling diet."
"That is what you were irritated over?"
"Yes."
"Why did you not seek me out earlier? I would ha-"
>Side-eyeing the older mare, Dalli's right gauntlet makes a polite 'hold' motion.
"Searched the tunnels for suitable creatures, likely by yourself? Ordered the Legion and a few barely trained pups to locate more which have been trapped? You have done far more than can be repaid, Baroness. Once free, Amy will be able to hunt on her own."

>Glittering eyes, swirling eyes, and relatively normal ones watching what you pick first...
"Of course."
"Did you expect less from your filly?"
"OUR filly!"
>A single kola nut lifted off the platter, the Baroness eyes it in objective fascination while making little attempt to hide her amused disdain for your dam and sire glaring not-YET-literal daggers at each other.
"I would have been slightly miffed if nothing was chosen. And I will continue to state dried Kerbann is a disgrace despite it lasting years."

>The flavor: delishus.
>The colors: bright and shiny.
>While you pillage the platter's fruit contents, the unicorn and Crystal mare split their own share of preserved archaic kola, fresh sweetroots, Lowland thistle stalks, and a few Kerbann slices, your sire leans forwards to pick up exactly two of each.
>Surprisingly he takes three of the thistles, peeling off the outer shell with care to expose the relatively tasty inner heart.

>Finished with her fit of laziness, the fiery pegasus strolls into the den, now entirely awake, pushing the door closed with a wing.
>Gazing at the scene in half-seriousness, an eyebrow raises, though her snout crinkles upon spotting the puppet's new location.
>Shrugging mostly to herself, Lila clops towards the table, though halts at the Baroness speaking quietly.
"Dalli Senior, Amethyst.. both Amethysts, Lilamaredre."
"Yes, Baroness?"
"I must ask the four of you to, please, cease calling me by that title. It is... tiring to hear so often.
Avernus is the name I was given. I would prefer each of you to call me by that from now on."
>Confounded by the wholly unexpected request, the filly's face scrunches as if she'd inhaled anything other than raw flames.
>Sitting back to eye the quarter-eaten slice of fruit in his right gauntlet, your sire's expression hardens pensively.
"Umakachov is the name I was given. Funny, is it not?"
"I do not see nor feel anything wrong with it. Why do you dislike your forename?"
"It is a pun."
"Of... what?"
>CLEARLY and CERTAINLY not about to release a raging storm of laughter, your dam does her best to mimic a solid wall as he frowns.
"Uma is an ancient human word from certain regions with a single precise meaning: horse."
"So?"
"The second portion, Kachov. It means catcher-of."
"Oh. ........ WHAT?!"
>Silence was, sometimes, deafening.
>At least until the older Amethyst snickers, which prompts your sire to, slowly, reach up with his other gauntlet, cover his face, and sigh as she collapses into laughter.

>>371364 →

"I can always admire the passion in which a metalsmith works their craft."
>He could make adjustments and modify weapons like most STALKERs, but he knew he would never meet the same skill and craft that master weaponsmiths in the Zone could.
>At least, from what he could remember of himself, he wasn't good enough to be considered more than a basic mechanic.
>He sighed inwardly and shook his head slightly.
>Something to dwell on later, he would think.

"I doubt I could carry enough ammunition to make the barrels glow a bright red, honestly. Unless I get a much larger ammo backpack for it."
>Ivan would lift the lid to the box, glancing over the discs, before replacing it.
>He'd take the box and stash it away, giving the two another small smile.
"I'll certainly find some use for these, they'll make quite a good addition to what I've got."

>Ivan followed the stallion's gaze, glancing over the weapons with an idle eye.
"Would you like some help with those? Even if it's just sorting them out."
>He would offer, rubbing the back of his head.

>>390280
"Likewise one must state the same towards marecenaries, guards, clothiers, jewelers, alchemists, brewers, builders-"
>Gaze snapping upwards to survey the entire ceiling quickly, his right eye twitches.
"Or ditch diggers.."

>Turning back to regard the furnace with a suspicion that bordered on reasonable, Krinza's mood brightens.
"I suggest storing an additional belt in case of unusual circumstances. I have only gone out on one resupply, which was... most enlightening. How one can hear the phrase 'extended combat situation' and think they only need two magazines is beyond my ability to foresee."

"Not those, specifically. Those are part of the-"
>Harrowed by memories of endless sorting, Krinza merely offers the stack a dismissive motion.
"Rather, I should say, one portion of a collection recovered from the Solar Armory. We are finally receiving those cleared for repair, refurbishing, or to conduct further examinations. So far the majority are simply damaged though a few have degraded in storage. Amerose is a bit too fastidious in her selections."
>Upon remembering the 800 pound heavily armored steel gorilla in front of him, the pudgy unicorn's ear swivel in thought.
"Ivan, have you been to the Enclave recently? There is an exceptionally large weapon assortment which has so far been underused, let alone appreciated. Few humans lack the raw strength to carry most.. much less utilize effectively.
I can think of one weapon which may work well for you, by the name of Tomb Bringer. It was a solid, round headed mace of early Stalliongrad construction. The enchantmarents were nearly destroyed due to Roust eating most of it, but should be rather simple to recoalesce given suitable repairs."
>Forming a set of claws to scratch the back of his head, the grandmaster smith's snout creases.
"It is most unusual to study such an old weapon not made from black iron or ritually purified blackened steel. I suspected it was originally created for a Kra`ken whom survived the Late Dynasty's collapse."

>>390281
"Most professions, really."
>He would file ditch digging under miscellaneous construction work, however.

"I'm well amused by people who think they only need a small amount of ammunition when going out on a mission. Even when it is 'small and quick', I prefer having enough for a full squad on myself."
>And at least a hundred buckshot shells for whatever shotgun he had on him at the time.
>Or two.

>He nods in idle agreement and turns his gaze back to Krinza, folding his arms over his chest.
>unga bunga beefman
"Not recently, for a trip like that."
>He looked a bit interested at the idea.
>While non-ranged weapons held little value in the Zone, the idea of a fuckoff heavy mace to bash heads in was obviously appealing to the STALKER.
"How heavy is Tomb Bringer?"
>He was definitely curious at the thought of being able to wield heavy weapons nobody else could.
>Bragging rights or something.

>>390282
>Leaving an irate glower that probably wasn't oh it definitely was seething at the rafters, Krinza merely lifts a hoof upwards.
"The ones I have exceptions towards can all be found on Tartarus Isle. There is no logical reasoning for hundreds of prostitutes, nor an entire division's worth of lewdly dressed maids."

>Horn brightening in small red swirls, several damaged spears, halberds, and other polearms are floated towards Krinza's table, spreading them out for a quick examination.
"If it were left to my decisions, I would ensure each individual has a minimum of five minutes worth solely of ammunition. However, what is most pressing happens to be a severe lack of storage space and weight-countering devices. Lann has fortunately completed her late stage clothing designs and has begun producing replacements or custom additions.
Unfortunately we have run out of float cores and Gravity-negating enchantmarents, thus I would highly suggest carrying a few other spares for yourself."
>Setting aside the more questionably fractured weapons, the smith's ears perk up in solid interest.
"As it is.. less than eleven pounds. Completely restored it would be twenty-nine, if not a bit more. There are filler materials left from older projects as well."
>Selecting the least damaged spear in a rather obtusely designed leaf blade pattern, he sets to work removing the deeply inset pins using raw magical force.
"The second oddity is it bears a wide scale secondary enchantmarent, one created from a clear mixture of Minotaur blessings and Psionic pseudo-enchantmarents. I suspect it was added to destroy large obstacles, doors, fortifications, though was tuned solely for all forms of destructive purposes.
Last, it was Graven-Carved. I am not ponifally aware of significant Minotaur involvemarent throughout Stalliongrad's history, though it would not be surprising if such existed. Or exists.
You may want to take a look through what else is available, including the Board."
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <M.Elemarental Chemistry
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <M.Research
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <GM.Enchanter
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16]
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17] <GM.Crafter
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14]
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15] <GM.Smith
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21] <Runic Anvil
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16] <Runic Engraving Blade
[1d6+12 = (5+12) = 17] <Runic Hammer

>Completed Projects:
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Human Alloys
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <Human Composites
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <Scaling

>>390284
>Ivan stared for a long moment.
>Krinza has clearly never met a frenchman.
"I could absolutely find some logic behind those numbers, myself. Even if it sounds absurd."
>He shook his head and chuckled a bit.

"Equipment standardization is... quite lacking here, I've noticed. Even with limited resources in the Zone, factions had something close to basic loadouts for troops."
>Even if it was literally just a turtleneck, jeans, and a leather jacket.
>And a shitty shotgun.
"That's pretty heavy... I imagine it could crumple non-enchanted plate like it was aluminum foil, and even put a dent in enchanted armor?"
>He pondered the idea for a brief moment.
"Sounds like a breaching hammer... but a mace."
>He squinted at the unicorn.
"Graven-Carved? I'm not familiar with the term."
>Though he wasn't too familiar with a lot of these ponies' terms, he'd admit. Too busy making a mountain of empty vodka bottles until quite recently to pay close attention to them.

>>390286
"I will take your word for it."
>Untroubled in mind, body, and soul, the smith's spirit wasn't anywhere close to dealing with that topic.
>The damn hoof-toucher.

"You are highly correct, which is why I am now taking over most of the equipment and equipmarent testing, procuremarent, and everything related to such. That particularly includes the Fucking New Guys and Girls."
>He did not sound anywhere near close to happy using that phrase.
"No humans are allowed to leave the Fortress until they meet my minimum standards.
In addition, I prepared several hundred flexible stainless steel hi-alloy and titanium clips, springs, hooks, buckles, and others for Lann's usage. She has come up with several forms of armored pouches for clips, magazines, and most grenade styles. Likewise that allowed her to create a basic standardization system, however most ponies prefer custom designs tailored to a single individual's specifications.
That does exclude most in Stalliongrad, Rushya, some Ferron, parts of the Navarchy, and certain unicorn... groups, shall we say."

>Partway through the process, Krinza becomes lost in visceral horror over.... ssssomething.
>Shaking out of it, he glances to you with a nod, once more briefly inspecting the exoskeleton's exterior.
"Easily. The handle, at least what remains, is hollow-filled though with what I am not positive. A solid steel cylinder of the same dimarensions would weigh from twenty-six to thirty-five pounds, depending on which alloy is used."
>Eyeing the mess of riveted pins with some disdain, the yellow and black unicorn's face takes on a faintly amused cast.
"It may as well be. Graven-Carving is a form of Minotaur 'smithing'. I am not disparaging the term, only the terrible translation and typical lack of further explanation often given.
A bar, round, or other stock is heated to a within near-specific temperatures, then while still hot, continuously bent, pressed, folded, and rolled against solid objects, typically a number of standing, heavily secured anvils and other structures."
>Placing the spear head into his furnace, it warms quickly under close watch, reaching in to forcefully bend the design back into a proper shape while he speaks above the noise.
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <M.Elemarental Chemistry
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <M.Research
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <GM.Enchanter
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14]
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14]
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15] <GM.Crafter
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14]
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17] <GM.Smith
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16] <Runic Anvil
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16] <Runic Engraving Blade
[1d6+12 = (5+12) = 17] <Runic Hammer
>Completed Projects:
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <Human Alloys
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <Human Composites
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <Scaling

"The raw strength of a Minotaur is almost always one-third more than the majority of unicorns or Psions are able to produce esoterically, and the various low, middle, and high-classed alloys produced in that process allows for the formation of unique patterns, as well as either better tensile strength or durability. Most humans would call it a semi-modern version of rolled homogeneous plating, however nearly all Minotaurs also incorporate a fair number of deep mystical blessings.
I believe the Crystal Empire has four, perhaps five, older processes which are fairly similar, though I have not studied them. This will take me perhaps ten minutes to repair, though in the meantime I would greatly advise taking a look at what is for sale. And perhaps visit the Enclave to see what else would be useful for you.
Unfortunately the miniaturized grenade project has been cancelled. I do not know when it will be picked up again, so keep an eye out for postings from the Dragonspine Mountians."

>>390272
>Amy looks to the Baroness and returns a mischievous shrug
"I dunno, I just do it!~"
>It was true in a sense, she almost never did such things on purpose, sounds just slip out in the manner that they do.
>Eyes turned to her dam as she explained tones and the trickery she had pulled with them, pointedly learning that she could mimic the voices of others on purpose, her smile slowly growing.
>Amy didn't mind the food herself, it was still good, and yet she interjected proudly after her father had finished explaining that she could hunt after she'd gone to the world above.
"I'm going to learn how to fish!~"

>She philosophically accepted that her parents often got into arguments with each other, and that such arguments often devolved into playful scuffles. This was a normal fact of life to her, and it was funny.
>The filly however was more interested in taking bites out of her Kerbann slice more than anything, and she definitely did not wish for the table to become an improptu battleground.
>Again.

>Going still at Baroness Avernus' request, Amy furrowed a brow thoughtfully as she chewed and swallowed, staring off into the middle distance with confusion.
>Baroness isn't her first name?
"Baroness isn't her first name?"
>Did she say that out loud?
>Wait, her father's name was Umakachov? Catcher of horses?
>Her dam's laughter was infectious, causing her to snicker, but Amy didn't really get why it was funny.

>>371918 →
>I won't even mention the chaos of a warhead going off in the middle of our BASE.
"And what if there's something you can't detect?"
>There's always some weird shit going on and I hold a small doubt that Wild can detect everything on this planet.

"I'm your mother I can tell you to do whatever I want."
>Staring for a moment.
"Even if you don't listen, it at least allows me to put in a bit of input. I know I can't make you do anything."
>If she were the size of a human child however.
>I could recognize that tone anywhere, I've had it with my own mom.
"Besides, I'd set you up with a pony. They're much... more familiar to me than another eldritch thing."
>It would be a lot less confusing on how to communicate with, for one.

>ANYWAY.

"While quite an improvement.. That isn't exactly much, still. Armor wise, I mean."
>Taking another look outside, I was awfully tempted.
"I think I'll step out for a few minutes, I've never liked being cooped up in confined spaces for a long time."
>Ignoring the fact I've had to do so several times for a good shot.
"Plus it'll help with you downsizing. Won't have to worry about injuring me."

>>390204

>It's still bad the M-S.O.L.G. got damaged that way
>It might take a wish disk for this thing to be back to full readiness
>Bit of a logistics problem if this thing needs wish disks to keep going though
>Clem sets the camera to keep track of the humanoid figure, thinking if that is Anon

>After noticing the shock on these pegasi, Clemency is dismayed that the area is beyond off limits
>He gets that the area is incredibly dangerous to the point that even Twisted Wing barely survived but still
>He looks around to the other Lunar ponies and he notices the same fear and rising anger amongst them
>There's conjecture about how to get to Jeff at least
>Clem mentally follows the suggestions but each one is struck down
>Especially the old ones, even as desperate of an attempt it is

>Tense moments aside, at least one is taking action
>Clemency looks towards the Charger next to him, finally able to get his word in
"So while we're in the know then, tell me if that's it then. Is Jeff just stranded at the whims of whatever took him and Emerald?"

>He then hears EnKee and Common from the side, listening for a second
>They seemed to have followed our conversation but then he sees them all fly off north
>He turns his attention back to the Lunar group

>>390303
>Positively beaming at you, the elderly mare's head shakes in good natured motions.
"At minimum do not merely copy a voice; match the individual's speaking cadences, tones and subtones, and spend some time comprehending how emotional inflections are used as well."
>Taking on a faintly smug cast and doing nothing to dissuade from the small lesson, your sire pauses from weaving the stalks together.
"Mine was solely meant to fish in the Wells, for what little swims in them. Remember the rules of studying each new biome, adjust tactics accordingly, and you will do well."
>Frowning briefly, your dam glances at the den's skylight, then down to her plate.
"That's not something I can make again without spending a lot of time. Crysamare doesn't like bending and I can't get two of the rituals right. Depending on where the Gate opens to, you should easily be able to trade for one."
>Stepping forwards to spear a single root with a hard primary feather, Lila places it down once steam occurs.
"I know how to fish. Granted I didn't go out all that often on the lakes or rivers, but all I need is some thin wire or rope, a hook, and bait.. though I'd probably melt those or flashboil ponds in a few seconds."

>Lacking any concern at your dam's heaving laughter or sire's rapidly creeping annoyance, Avernus gives a short nod.
"No, my dear, it is not. The Legionaries are strict ultra-traditionalists, though I have done my best to soften some of that. Since I arrived they have steadfastly refused to address me by name as they felt such would be 'severely disrespectful to one of your heritage'. No matter how marely times I attempted to, politely, correct them, they.. have simply refused to accept otherwise.
The Shades and Half-Shades have their own languages, which only a few of us understand. I have been called Bossmare, Captain, Admareal, The Pointiest One, and General, among other amusing terms."
>Hefting the woven sphere up for a close examination, Umakachov delivers a polite head tilt at the unicorn.
>Right before tossing the sphere into his wife's open, laughing mouth, which she halts at, glaring NEAR-literal daggers this time.
"It is oftentimes rude to address one's supposed station rather than a title which has been earned. I do so from respect, yet I will honor your request as much as I am able to."

>Winding down from the actual feast into full evernight, most of the platter was empty.
>Particularly since you ate all but one slice of Kerbann.
>Rolling back into a comfortable position, Baroness Avernus glances between sire and dam, lifting a forehoof respectfully towards one, then the other.
"Sehr Umakachov and dame Amethyst, we have deemed both your debts paid, in full. As of now there shall no longer be limitations on your movemarents as the Great Wells can no longer seek to damage your lifespans. King Tachell has likewise assured me that we may begin opening the smaller ones below the Sixth Ring."
>Swiveling to place a gentle smile on you, a decently large, bright white double sided satchel drops heavily onto the pillow.
"Amethyst the younger, I have this gift for you. It contains marely coins of value, though I ask you do not open it until the Gate has been closed. It is best suited for... well, you will find out.
Once, these were so common each pony was given one, yet here I have been unable to replicate the design nor materials."

"Lilamaredre..."
>Settling a troubled expression on the pegasi for six seconds, Avernus takes a deep, shallow inhale, then releases it pensively.
"Whomever tried to kill you upon Tallus still lives. I can barely feel its actions times, but I have been able to comprehend where that individual has been.
Though I have taught you everything in my grimoires based upon the aspects of Flame and Lava, I know those will not be enough. Search out the Elemarentals, they shall know you as you know them."
>Head bowing slightly at the filly's expression hardening, and flames dancing across her feathers, Avernus tilts her head tiredly.
"Were I perhaps thirty years younger I would accompaneigh you both. However, my replacemarent has not taken to her duties well and there is still much to teach her. It is however evernight and the Gates should be aligning to the Alicorns."
>Instantly standing up and taking a massive step towards the older mare, Umakachov's gauntlets lightly grasp her barrel, aiding her in stepping off the couch.
"Which Gate do you intend to try?"
"First Ring, Sector Twenty Outskirts."
>Debating whether or not to eat the stalks, your dam's right eyebrow raises thoughtfilly.
"That's... not far from here. Why is one so close now active?"
"It is not active, dame Amethyst, only the tunnel leading to it is. Perhaps a creature or two wandered in, or a smaller dead end section collapsed. The pups have brought back little: a few sticks, some dried grass, an exceptionally old bone, most likely reptile, neither tainted nor corrupt. And a rock which I believe to be sandstone."
"Does it have eyes?"
>Stretching out her legs with an aery chortle, Avernus strides towards the den's door, opening it with a brief swirl form her horn and calling back as she leaves.
"This one does not, no. I shall immediately prepare and have the nearest Legionary inform King Tachell we are leaving. He will doubtless arrive long before I do-"

>Waiting until no further clops could be heard, precisely ten seconds pass, while Lilamaredre sighs.
"Not again..."
>Turning with a slowly spreading grin to his wife, black flickers gather across his right gauntlet, the other reaching down to snap his helmet up and on, clicking into place, then activating the vox system.
>Loudly.
"Garden or street, MARE?!"
>Rising into a standing position on the sofa, the Crystal mare's vibrating hums begin spreading deep crystalline streaks across her hooves.
"This time... street. Amy, you know what to pack-"
>One heaving back, other punching forwards, Umakachov and Amethyst disappear in a clash, summoning each other well outside.
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]
>vs>
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14]

>>390305
"Then we should prepare to be ambushed inconsistently. Which may not make sense to you."
>Tuning the external speakers down to barely human audible, the tendril returns your stare with a small, twitching rotation, then swings side to side in a smarmy motion.
"You can, and I will listen. However, I have priorities, primarily involving your safety, which cannot be modified."
>All of the repair systems halt their motions.
>Nothing moves until the inside voice snickers.
"That would be impossible. Not only am I far taller than any pony known to Razorback or That Which Cannot Be Named, there is no information to imply one would ever consider me a valid mate. Correction: nearly impossible. Secondary correction: statistically impossible. Tertiary... no, no more corrections allowed at this time.
Update: no creatures larger than five pounds or near-equivalent volume detected within one thousand meters of my position. There are numerous underground species, no threats detected. Checking for long range movement now-"
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Arcanum Sensors Array
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Omni-Sensor Arrays: Wide Scan
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]

"I have noticed. And you are currently outside, mom."
>Taking a slow, careful sliding half-step forwards, Wild leans down enough to kneel, letting you step off onto the first real beach since arriving.
>It was, compared to the raging inferno from before, serene:
>Small waves touching shore, larger ones much further out, Moonlight touching the tops of vast stormfront clouds providing ample visibility, and a gentle rain now falling in earnest.
>Except for the burnt and falling down forest north above the beachline, clusters of ash still drifting downwards, or-
>That stench.
>It was definitely time to find a working gas mask.

>Remaining in the kneeling position, the Eldritch-Android's tendrils poke into damaged sections across her left arm, just as most of her body's entire outer armored hull... shrinks.
>Losing what might have been a centimeter, at best, small pods of purple-black Tryptaran mass squeeze outwards from damaged plates, latching on and pulling the majority back together in subdued crinkling foil noises.
>Sections of her burnt, twisted, and damaged leg plates reform in flowing motions which were puzzling, as if they were wax being melted and solidified at will, strangely making no sound.
>Nope, there weren't any words for this.
>Frozen in place, Wild emits a short, agonized electronic squeak.
"That did not feel good. I am unable to reduce my structural size but have successfully restored near-full lower body movement. And approximately eight percent of armor.
This option is being discarded until the remainder of my nodes have been accessed. REPLACING damaged components throughout my left arm-"
[1d6+14 = (4+14) = 18] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16]
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18]
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <RT-#2
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <RT-#3
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <RT-#4
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <RT-#5
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <RT-#6
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <RT-#7
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <RT-#8

>>390339
>Adjusting position in fractions of fractions, the satellite indicates it had finally stabilized in orbit, and was still not liking it had been thoroughly placed in 53 degree water.
>Logic states closing the downlink for 0.8 seconds, the view returns in sharp clarity:
>Focusing directly onto the flattened oval and clearing, it would have been easily mistaken for a titanic snail shell, though had entirely sculpted from pure emerald, though definitely not in the Mystic classification, given the massive, radiant striations.
>Utterly spotless, nothing grew on or near it, nor was the vast section of soil surrounding disturbed in the slightest, barring unusual, small mounds scattered in random patterns.
>Ticking over calculations and per-tenth-second-cycles in machine learning, the M-S.O.L.G denotes approximately 3,000 meters of distance between the emerald mass to the ring of darkly shaded plant life.
>While the thoroughly unknown flora closest to the emerald hulk were not stunted, the explanations offered for a complete lack of nearby growth was widespread herbicide, radiation, or chemical waste.
>Constantly updating estimations and geographic surveys scrolling far too quickly to read, a notification appears:
>Positioned as it was directly straight above Razorback Fortress, the satellite denotes a nearly 38 degree angle while facing the back of the humanoid figure's head, then displays an 83% likely targeting solution for the TLS system, which was now 32% recharged.
>Head rotating in a smooth motion to face south, larger individual creatures dispersing around it, the rush of insects, reptiles, mammals, among a few avians, were entirely unknown, all bearing distinctly stealthy, predatory features.
>Likewise, the thick, thorn covered black vines acting as muscle across the figure matched nothing you knew of, though the emerald making up most of its body had been sculpted in swirling patterns.
>Estimating the target to be from 55 to 60 meters in height, that was not Anonymous, nor was it a golem.

>Turning one last glance your way, the Leadmare's battered helmet dips in a respectful nod, releasing the Chargers and Lancers to act individually once more.
>Helmet tipping upwards, the young mare's eyes regard you for several seconds, speaking amid the sounds of Lunars returning to their ritual scarring, heavier pegasi calling off searching buildings, the remainder flitting off into the surrounding swamps, or those heading towards the fountain.
"Don't know enough to say otherwise. This isn't the place or time though. I'll try to return in half an hour."
>Head shaking negatively before stomping forwards again, the only motions now were batponies carving the last names into diamond-covered walls, or binding streamers to the hundreds of lances, spears, pikes, halberds, and well over twenty styles of hoofblades.

>Moving through the carvers finishing their last traces, a severely old, dented, gouged, and rent dark blue Lancer armor, in the rare batpony configuration no less, stomps out of the veritable forest of weapons making up the former southern entrance.
>Remaining motionless until the last few batponies examine their work, glowing red, purple, blue, and black in the shape of diamond-slitted eyes drift about aimlessly.
>One of the rather common Void-corrupted, though physically contained at least.
>Settling on you a moment, a slight nod is given.
>Turning precisely ninety degrees to face directly east, a sharp, deeply piercing whistle-screech is released, the mid-30's batpony stallion hiss-shouts aloud in a vibrating, triple-echoed voice, stilling the Basin.
"PAY YOUR RESPECTS TO THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE DAWN APPROACHES!"

>Taking off her helmet to reveal a squashed, burnt silvery mane, soft blue coat, and dull, exhausted dark purple eyes, the unicorn leadmare lets it drop, staring upwards as streaks of orange and red begin tracing clouds above.

>>390192
>José nodded along with an amicable smile, his face radiating awe and wonder even as Pren gave the most succinct summary of the world plus the sea salt satchel discovery.
>Salt scraping's now on the table if he wished to accrue funds!

>However, as Salinas went deeper into the opportunities afforded to him at this current time, the faintest purse formed on his lips.
"Ah."
>Seems at the end of the day, the main way to become useful in his current position was through mercenary work.
>He definitely should've packed more.
>With a deep inhale, Gallo started the question conga.
<Spaneigh> "What might either of those be? Are there any representatives in this place that can provide them?"
>Mild concern threatened to slip past his polite smile
<Spaneigh> "What level of equipmarent is expected for these kinds of opportunities? What others dangerous threats reside in this region aside from the Beleram-ha?"
>He promptly gulped his faint apprehension back down, his hand instinctively reaching back towards Pren to lightly pet at the top of her head to calm himself down and think.
>Slow, smooth. Making sure not to mess up the mane if he could help it.
<Spaneigh> "Do these offers come in a first come, first serve basis if the requiremarents are met? Perhaps you'd know of any possible unassigned Mareguards in this area?"
>More of a band-aid solution to try and possibly get to work on something substantial.
>Accure some much needed experience to better resemble a functioning marember of Tallus.
>He sorely needs to, for his and his duties' sake.

>>390340
>Mouth somehow forming a wavy line, Amy's ears twitched happily as she rested her chin in her hands and absorbed the new lore regarding resonant mimicry and fishing.
>She shared a conspiratorial if guilty glance with Lilamaredre over her dam's remarks about the skylight, for one, Lila's assault on it and for two, her role in baiting the pegasus into making that assault to begin with.

>Amethyst had heard the Baroness referred to as Baroness so often in her life by others that she had always thought Baroness was her name and her title, which would make her Baroness Baroness Avernus.
>In hindsight it was a silly notion, yet it had always made perfect sense to her. Now that illusion was broken.
>The filly's doe eye'd look at completely overlooking such a simple piece of information for much of her life, was replaced by snickering at the many other titles and a cheerful smile, ear wiggle and hand clasp.
"Avernus, then!"
>Followed by a highly amused side eye at her parents continuing conflict.

>As the feast wound down, so did Amy, electing to slowly savour her final Kerbann slice with a supreme expression of satisfaction and happy sighs.
"/ᐠ˵- ⩊ -˵マ"
>She only partially listened to and observed the goings on, entirely absorbed by the sadly diminishing fruit despite her efforts to make it last.
>Eyes snapping open at the mention of "gift", the filly locked onto Avernus with laser intensity, ears swivelling from their relaxed downwards orientation to point directly at the Baroness.
"Okaaay!~"
>Though she wouldn't be able to open it yet, she still quivered with excitement, yet...
>The satchel was out of her reach, and both her hands were preoccupied with the fruit.
>Had the ipotane been capable of scrunching her snoot, she would, sadly, she lacked a snoot of her own. Her mouth instead form a ever-so-slight inconvenienced zigzag shape as she considered the fruit and the satchel.
>Seconds passed in thoughtful consideration until she remembered she could hum, the ding of a light bulb sounding from... Somewhere.

[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] < B. Crystal Runes + Power
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]

>Humming gently, she floated the satchel over to her side where she could easily claim it once she needed to excuse herself. Carefully, and hopefully, not putting too much power into the resonance so that the gift full of metallic coins wouldn't be sent zooming across the room Kaotically.
>She watched as Avernus turned to Lila and spoke...
>Huh?
>Her contented chewing slowly came to a halt as the mental arithmetic tallied up at its usual glacial pace whenever Amy learned a piece of information she, for some reason or another, was partially unwilling to acknowledge.

>She mulled over the words and their implications methodically as the tunnel was discussed, Avernus departed, and her parents summoned each other out onto the street for another of their scuffles.
>Then it clicked.
"!"
>Her words came forth loud, echoed and booming from the shock and fury at what she had just heard.
"WAIT SOMEPONY TRIED TO WHAT MY BEST FRIEND?!"

>>390394
>Sticking her hoof out once more and turning it up to show the flat piece, the clear imprint of a human hand carrying a studded huitzauhqui is crossed by a dual-beamed lance, both external sides heavily serrated, almost like shark teeth.
<Spaneigh> "This is a Coalition hoofstamp! It basically means I have full right-of-access to the their towns, lodges, and barracks. But not their armories, training grounds, or secret stuff. Only reason I was ordered to wear it is.. well, nopony here really cared much about helping them when they arrived. I spent months with a few of the Coalition's veterans getting food shipmarents to them through the Harpies, Ferron, and Navarchy.
Argentum honor-chains are given to those that perform militia or military duties. Basically it lets everypony know that when the Coalition needs information, they're supposed to get all of the information they're asking for. It also makes translocation and Warp Gate usage free, too!"
>Giving a triple snout twitch, the young mare's head tilts in clear concern, though smiles at the touch.
<Spaneigh> "The good kinds? You really shouldn't go anywhere across Tallus without having some type of armor, even it's it light. Your firearms... uh.. don't take this the wrong way, but they look REALLY shabby, not like the ones I've seen.
Most of the Coalition use spears, standard lances, and twin-beamed lances to deal with armor, natural or not. Maces, axes, and clubs are for general purposes, and sawblades, knives, or similar stuff for unarmored creatures.
Nets are pretty common too! Fishing stuff, tangling targets, or having a nap between trees, those are great multipurpose tools. Only the Harpies, Ferron, and batponies make those, but I haven't seen any of them tonight... which is really odd.
Navarchs don't trade theirs though, way too hard to replace."
>Greeting an arriving trio of pegasi whom immediately leap high into air, then wing towards the vessel's opposite end, Pren turns back to stare upwards in thought.
<Spaneigh> "Just around Shoalbarge and the villa north? At least two dozen, maybe three. There's lots of predators that aren't dissuaded by much, and some of the herbivores are frightening if or when spooked. Worst ones are in the water though.
As for the Beleram-Ha, it's a native but I've never seen one. Been told they live around waterfalls, have four legs, and look really odd. Nasty beak like an octopus, single horn pointing on the skull, tough reptile hide, and sharp pointed hooves. The Navarchs really likes hunting them, though... they haven't shown up tonight either. Which is really strange."
>Nodding several times quickly, the reflective brown mare flashes a wide, flat-toothed grin.
<Spaneigh> "Yep, they are! I usually hoof out the dangerous assignmarents to the Navarchs though, mostly to their in-training cadres. Then again there's ALWAYS somepony wanting SOMEthing done. And let me look-"
>Quickly checking the stands, stalls, and wandering ponies with keen eyes, Pren turns back to you with a frown.
<Spaneigh> "Not tonight, sorry. Argentum Mareguards rarely stay here for long, usually just enough to pick up a week or two of food, but one or two usually shows up on the weekends. Check back tomorrow and the next night."

>Visibly flatlining for five seconds, she emits a deep, disgruntled rumble, the unshod forehoof smacking metal decking.
<Spaneigh> "It's REALLY bizarre none of the Navarchs, Ferron, Harpies, Minotaurs, or batponies have shown up tonight. Almost every time they're here a bunch have contracts to hire out!
Also, since you don't have a chain or hoofstamp, give me a minute-"
>Fully turning around to whistle at a passing, shorter black earth filly, she switches to Common Equestrian with an amused, heavier tone.
"Hay, can you go find Ari? There's a hu`um here that needs a chain or hoofstamp, maybe both! She's probably in the Nest if she isn't fishing or down below!"
>As the filly's head sways, eyes roll, swinging in a big circle and trots past to the left, Pren returns to you with a short giggle.
<Spaneigh> "Oh, right! Villa de Rosa is a pretty big town way away from here. It's about fifty, maybe sixty miles southwest of Mareixico, on the Ferron coast. There's about twenty earth ponies and six hundred pegasi living there, they settled around a big natural spring about nine hundred years ago. And they sell HUGE flowers! Mostly roses though, but still tasty.
Pace Arroyos.. right, that's northern Burro territory. It's a bunch of washed out highland desert basins on the south side of the Mexicolt Mountains. Lots of gems and ore wash down which they collect to trade. I've heard there's huge stone ponds all over filled with pinchy things though. Ferron and Navarchs love that place, but Harpies seriously hate the dust."

>Interrupted by a bright, flashing blue ring of geometric, mathematical, and strange symbols forming behind Sallinas, what drops down to land on clawed feet is... definitely not something you expected.
<Spaneigh> "Greetings, human. I am Ari-Silfel of the Argentum Dominion. I do not recognize you at all, nor do you bear Coalition heraldry. Please explain why you come to be here."
>The voice was warm, pleasing, and held deeply Caribbean notes, though had a faint, sharp second echo after each word.

>>390395
>Strident vibrations beckoning wonders towards the gift, it accepts.
>Or didn't want to refuse.
>Lifting the satchel into place and hanging next to you, the sheer amount of weight stored inside was difficult to comprehend.
>While you weren't quite sure how over three hundred pounds of round, square, rectangle, and other geometric coins was contained, let alone carried, the soft, grainless white material smelled of primal magic infused with deep knowledge of storage.
>And the Baroness' light, faintly sweet scent too.

>Burning snout, meet partially on fire wing.
>The pegasus doesn't sigh, instead staring between her feathers at you, speaking in a dry, though reflectively amused timbre.
"You were among the first I saw upon arriving. I have told you whom I was with, where, when, and why. You also know sharing much of the same out loud will likely cause significant problems."
>Retracting, wings pat her sides in a somewhat chided marener, Lila exhaling heavily through her nostrils as she glances left towards the kitchen door, faint traces of flame swirling in the air.
"I am still unsure, yet.. Avernus spent hundreds of hours scrying and performing divination rituals. She has stated numerous times that the Alicorn signs are often clear during the transitions of night and day to feel, and sometimes see, the echoes of current events. Older events are much more difficult, however.
These are the facts we know: something did attempt to kill a pony nearby, yet the attacker did not specifically intend to harm me. At least, not at first. If I was the primary target, then I would not have survived. If I was a secondary target, then the methods used to kill me were stupidly inefficient and needlessly expensive. Since I was a collateral victim, the attacker was attempting to cause as much damage as statistically possible.
There is a problem though.
The second attack I heard and was nearly claimed by was likely part of a multi-stage diversion. Or, where we were had been selected as a target of opportunity to collapse the upper or lower rooms. It is also possible that same attacker knew my teacher, which she may have been unaware of, or chose not to pursue.
There are not marely other possibilities, but the Baron... Avernus, examined me for some time. What struck me first was a well prepared, ritually created Air explosive. Next was a wide spread Gravity spell, though she was unable to determine if it was magical, Mystical, or possibly Psionic. Last, fragmarents of an odd, poorly completed manabomb were found in my feathers... and my rear."
>Grimacing in partial recall, her left wing flaps outwards to dismiss the memories of being unable to sit for long, likewise leaving flames dancing around.
>Which she stares at angrily before inhaling them.
"The only answers to these questions will be found on the surface. And, I cannot help you pack."

>Failing to completely reach the street outside, noises of stone being ground underhoof and underboot, a solid thump from pseudometal striking hardened mare, the satisfying ringing of armor plates hold against unbreakable hoof, then a surprised electronic *blat* upon being bodyslammed.
>Listening to the melodious, frenetic combat outside, it sounded like your dam was slowly winning, albeit taking more strikes than necessary.
>At least this time they weren't COMPLETELY in public view.

"Do they ever stop? ...........I should make sure there are no Legionaries watching."
>Lila's fiery eyes shut, head shaking side to side in slow, exasperated motions.
"Or the Kratha. Amy, I will not be taking anything, other than myself, so the extra space is yours."
>Offering a polite, short nod, the other filly turns about in a smooth motion, then high-trots towards the door, flinging it open and leaping out in a single continuous motion.
>Instantly covered in flames, the sigh can be felt as she leaves to cease another potentially awful round of bets.

>Feeling completely full, which wasn't all that common except the times a fish was caught, or the Legion found wild plats, it also felt like a great time to take a short nap.
>...probably shouldn't have eaten the last slice.

>>390400
>Amethyst stared as Lilamaredre went on.
>She knew about much of what had occured before the pegasus had found herself poking her head over the lip of a crater all those years ago, as Lila had previously explained.
>But for someone to have willfully attempted to kill her, however indirectly, set her mood darkening and expression hardening by the second.
>She opened and closed her mouth multiple times to interject, but no words came out. It was rather pointless to give voice to the hows and whys, Lila of course, did not know.
>Amy shuffled uncomfortably as the prospect of leaving came up again, worse with this knowledge on top of the traitorous ones she had been witholding.
"Do these questions have worthwhile answers? Maybe... I think..."
>She waved her arms and hands uselessly, words not coming to her.
>Lila was a pegasus, there was no talking her out of pursuing this, and the very suggestion of remaining in exile, whether here or in secret on Tallus above, could easily be construed as an insult.
>She settled for responding with a sigh and an affirmative to the second part of her statement
"Of course."

>Mood lifting a little at the sounds of her father and dam scuffling out on the street, Amy turned her gaze to the window.
>They weren't right outside of course, but angling her head and ears in that direction made it easier to hear what was obviously her dam performing a flawless bodyslam.
"Nope, and I would never wish them to. There is little purer an expression of spirit than a gleeful scuffle."
>Amethyst affixed Lila with a meaningful side eye just as the pegasus made her way for the window.
>She muttered.
"What's wrong with placing bets? Second best way ta loot sum flashy bitz."

>The filly stood away from the table and wandered off to her room, hugging the satchel in both arms and rolling her eyes upward as though she could peer at the guardsman on her head.
"We've got more line holding to do it seems. The more serious sort than the funny sort. 'Kill my best friend', un-bee-lee-vable!"
>The filly yawned and nudged her door open with a hoof.
>Can't nap, had to pack.
>All of her puppet friends, of course, leaving them was never an option, and she would need their teachings more than ever.
>She got properly dressed, shedding her robe, getting her nightclothes off and replacing it all with her prosperine outfit, one set of her patterned leafy socks and her juggernaut boots before slipping back into the scarabite robe.
>Chewed sword? Check, on her back it went.
>Tonal kit? Into the scarab pack.
>The small collection of shinies she kept in her room? Into the scarab pack.
>Pet rock? Into the scarab pack.
>Sock collection? Into the scarab pack.
>Her other clothing? Into the scarab pack.
>Selecting each puppet, she buttoned each one onto the strip of cloth she used to carry them around when they weren't on her hands and buttoned the strip to the scarab pack, letting them dangle out in the fresh air instead of having to ride roughshod inside the pack.
>Her pet rock could take it, he was a tough old salt. The puppets would surely complain, they liked... Or in some cases demanded, to be close at hand.
>She did however reassign the guardsman with the others and placed the elegant, black and white armoured eldar on top of her head, where she likewise remained affixed inexplicably.
>All that remained was her Stick, which she took to hand and leaned on, closing her eyes and taking a short moment to cycle the flow of magic between it and herself in idle loops.
>Despite having packed everything she could think of, Amethyst looked around her room, brow furrowed a little, as if the very metaphysical substance of it could be crystallised, rendered tangible, and taken with her.
>She did not want to leave when it came down to it. Oh she'd heard for years that eventually she would have to, that she accepted, it was rational and she couldn't argue with it. There were pressing reasons why neither herself nor Lilamaredre could remain.
>And yet... This was home, and she would be leaving it for a world she knew nothing of through her own experiences, only the teachings of others, from journal entries and scattered lore and word of mouth.
>Lilamaredre, her puppets, they would be the only links back to this world apart from yet inextricable from Tallus.
>No more gifting wars with her father, no more singing with her dam, no more lessons from Avernus or anybody else, no more visiting the Kenhals, or sleeping in Kerbann trees, or trying and failing to break into places she wasn't meant to go in the neverending pursuit of forbidden lore, or anything else she'd had taken such joy in for all her life.
>This really did feel like they were truly leaving this time, yet Amethyst held tight the traitorous little thought that they would fail and she would have just a little more time.
"I can come back here, I know that, but never to live. The disjointment of time will only serve as a more thorough severance."
>Amy did not need to scry very far into potential futures to know that.

>Outside, the filly thought she might have heard the noises of a hothead chasing away onlookers. Might be her imagination though.

>>390455
>Swinging up and around to pass over the skylight, Lila tries to speak through it.
"-ot flashy enough fo-"
>And misses the timing as per usual.

>Bayonet wiggling at the upper edge of vision, it had moved forwards.
"Let's see them fight ALL of us!"
>Of course, it definitely couldn't, especially if more friends were found, made, put back together, paid, or, best of all, summoned!

>Calm, subdued anti-Elemarentals swirl through the Kerbann branch, brightening in pseudorecognition.
>Access... granted.
>Picking the most concise, least resisted courses upwards into your hand, it had no need of being dipped in a Well.
>Or all of them in one cycle.
>Smoothly drawing the significant increase of Fire from you to leave a comfortable, well below room temperature ratio, it would hold and bleed off far more, though still felt stifled in the much too stable surrounding.

>Pack sufficiently weighed down enough to counterbalance the hoofboots seeking to keep you leaned slightly forwards at all times-
"Let the mists of space and time retreat from your mind. Home is what one carries with them, not where where your hooves are."
>Various grumbles were that the replacement was decent at her general duties, though recovering older or lost Gates for rebuilding had turned into an obsession rather than a priority.
>The currently prospected ones were met with resistance from Tachell claiming the mare's overly eager efforts wouldn't match up, at least until opening more Wells.
>As a travel network the Gates were awfully inconsiderate, especially the dreaded stairs.

>Not so distant, musically loud ringing of two rear hooves clanging are somewhat dampened by a hollow thump, then shrapnel scattering against outside walls.
>That was definitely an explosion.
>The third if you counted those first two hits!
>A single gleeful neigh of victory being claimed is met by immediate corrections relating to improper stances, missed defensive and offensive opportunities, lacking effective counters, the list continuing while the den door opens.
"-ot hearing this especially after winning!"
"Twice you failed to anticipate low strikes, and your pacing control needs more work."
"My hoofwork is perfect and flawless, and I am NOT winded!"
"Striking at every moving object is for a barbarian with no tactics."
"Bah! You're forgetting the fact that I will always be the superior choice for breaking mere static defenses!"
>It didn't take much for vox-tinged laughter to shake crysamare windows.
"Were I an emplaced bastion you would be correct, yet you lack cohesive focus in countering the movements of smaller targets! Simply attempting to crush them over and over is ineffective-"
"I do, but it always works, RIGHT!?"
"As you say, MARE!"

>Nope, it never changed.
"All those that oppose your dam shall fear her hooves."
>Indeed.
>Heavy hooves meeting floorboards inside the den, then quick, rattling breaths, Amethyst the older wasn't quite struggling while pulling on something heavily.
"Ready to go Amy? We're ready to go! Lila is... .....making circles out there."

>>390486
>Though the timing had been missed, Amethyst got the gist of it.
>The Guardsman was correct, allies would help immensely. This was not a fight that had to be fought alone, and that was an uplifting thought.

>Amy hauled the satchel up, placed it within the pack snugly and settled the pack on her back.
>With the transferrance of Taldeer to her free hand and Kerbann stick in the other, the filly responded wryly.
"If I could but pick up and carry the whole of this and everybody in it, I could literally have home with me."

>Ears twitching at the barely muffled noises of scuffling, Amy surmised her dam must have won, though wondered what exactly had caused that explosion.
>The victorious neigh, however, confirmed her guess. Another win for her dam's brute force approach to scuffles.
>Wandering back out to meet with them, she caught her father's criticisms of her tactics. He wasn't wrong, but...
>Her dam was right, she kept using brute force, and it kept working.
>Sharing a glance with Taldeer, she nodded in agreement.
"Indeed."

>Humming in acknowledgement, Amy tapped her stick against the ground and shuffled weight from hoof to hoof.
"Yup, I believe so."

>>390105
>Noting Hodch being buried, he works on parting the masses of valuables above where Hodch was.
"So the Dragonspine Mountains are under corporate entity control? And economic regulation of local and foreign economies is performed through purposefully scarce production of these high value composites?"

>Pareidolia follows along with Hodch's impromptu lecture, scrutinizing the example gems as they float by.
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Graduate Researcher + MECCT
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]

>Glancing briefly towards Dul's pile and realizing the sudden shift to complete accuracy, he looks back to his own work before focusing back on the rotating gem circle.
(By what principles are Vortex creatures even perceiving these sorts of things?)

>>390494
>Floating on the edges of vision throughout your room, the medium, large, giant reliquary quality pieces would continue to astound the three whom would certainly enter.
>At least until a Legionary mistakes one skylight or door for another during a shift, and would instantly pass out from the collected anti-Elemarentals.
>The thought of a constantly increasing pile of ponies which wouldn't be noticed for at least four hours, at best, was deeply inspiring.

"Such would be among the heavier burdens to carry, yet only one question remains: should you?"
>While the pack's currently heavy weight was sufficient to keep you well balanced, the house and full contents was a little over 180 tons.
>And how would you keep the rooms from being changed around?
"It is a mystery."
>Quite.

>Receiving a warm, short vibrating twinge from your dam, her short, ringing clops indicate she was dearly struggling to exit the front door.
"Then it's time for a ride too! ....a pretty short one though. Still, come and hop on!"

>Loudly scorching passes in air above and around the closest houses are accompaneighed by inconsistent, stinging swats from hardened feathers to unyielding pseudometals, amid barely concerned, carefully measured vox humor.
"Lila, I do not believe it wise to continue harrying Legionaries when they are clearly uninterested in retaliation. They are professional military individuals, not Guard.
Or militia.
Or merely unusually small, colorful horses with pointy sticks and sharp blades attached to their hoofbots.."
>Which one was going to be smacked first this time?

>>390495
>Barely noticing the weight aside from having difficulties moving his freed leg, Hodch's ears splay backwards in consideration while focusing on the rarest specimarens.
"To the first, in an extremely loose manner of speaking that is correct. However, our term 'corporation' is simply a large scale version of a cooperation, which itself is a medium scale cooperative, and so on. Unlike the oftentimes negative human connotations, those are large groups of individuals whom share the same goal: to provide for one's family by trading to those whom have needs, desires, or wants for their goods, services, and knowledge.
The Dragons themselves care for the Corporation as a whole, except those too old or injured to offer more than advice. Shipping thermally conductive or Elemarental absorbing composites to those whom suffer from overheating, or individuals with specific sensitivities caused by Tallus entropic fields, allows them to gauge what is necessary to produce, and remain mostly peaceful with each other. They enjoy performing divinations for metals, gems, or the best places to construct new villages, towns, outposts, fortress, and the like. Nearly all will offer knowledge, perform rituals, and conduct ceremonies such as mareriages and hoof-bondings when asked. They also have spotless record in blessing herdships and foals, which isn't well known.
The youngest Dragons can be found digging tunnels, learning from their elders, and travelers as well, while delicately exploring Dragonspine ruins is a matter of honor. At times, from two to ten are summoned to dissuade threats, make peace, enforce certain accords, or tasked to destroy creatures and beings best left unspoken.
To the second, also yes. The Dragons, Vigilants, and Legions are not profiteers. The greater majority are sapient Dracosines; wyverns, drakes, serpentari, Basilks, true Basilisks, among numerous others. Earth ponies make up perhaps twenty percent, from lineages which left the Dynasty, but only a few will ever speak of that matter. A few pegasi, Crystal ponies, Saddle Arabians, and Neighsians stay during favored parts of the year too. Unicorns are considered extremely rare as we do not do well in the oftentimes painful amount of Elemarentals.
Well off track, again. In sum: the Dragonspine Mountains Mining Corporation steadfastly refuses to intervene in political matters, aside from ones which would threaten them. They rarely forego opportunities to deliver aid shipmarents when disasters or catastrophes occur however, even to opposing factions. This ensures the Mining Corporation's neutrality, a standard which they hold themselves to with great honor.
Bear in mind the higher royals, those being the Queens, Kings, Empress, and Emperor, may sometimes individually intervene if they believe doing so will ease tensions.
Dissimilarly, Princesses and Princes are allowed to travel wherever they please, offer gifts or knowledge, and make one time only trade deals so long as they send their assigned herald and messenger first. They are likewise held to excruciatingly strict codes of conduct, particularly when dealing with equines."

>Easily surpassing the Siren's slow, dedicated searching throughout and noticing Katyal struggling to find space for her share, only settling on the best ones for now, the sheer amount of knowledge shared throughout the past hour holds firmly.
>Back and forth recalling facets, cuts, shapes, weights, and translating values according to current Crystal Empire trading, you'd picked up a serious amount of information.
>'Shiibo' had recorded everything in detail, creating well over two hundred new branching file paths.

>Taking a short break on the metaramid mat, the Reservist eyes the vast selection of rare coins and bars next to the doors in satisfaction.
"Two-point-eight tons in one hour or so. Given the age, rarity, cuts, and location that should be worth approximately nine hundred thousand Bits.
The previous class I gave was four hours on Undead, though this was more interesting, historically speaking. Do you have a complete recording, Lone?"
*"Yep, got about ten different angles too. If the jamming lifts I can send it all straight to the Fortress. Just hope there's enough room on the servers."*
"There should be. A certain pain in most flanks stated the public datastacks, or however she called them, would be accessible once her engineer activates them."

>Eyes watering from the strain of repeating one task much too often, Katyal rips her jacket off, tosses it up to hit the ceiling, then throws herself back with a stiff groan.
"I thought ten minutes of paperwork used to be torture-"
>Waving his left forehoof, a dark blue cloud grabs the jacket, politely folds it, and sets it on the woman's chair, Hodch lets out a dry, knowing chuckle.
"Then relax for a while. You could add another expansion to Folunasi's recovered marension now."
>Rolling onto her left side, face in the coin pile now, her right arm raises, hand making faux-lethargic swirls.
"Don't even wanna think about that. Barely got done restoring six out of the ten barracks, four out of eight armories, forty-nine towers out of eighty, then the six main and nineteen smaller fountains. Added ten more of those though, foals love 'em."
"Is that all?"
"Nope. Sixteen of fifty underground single-herd homes aren't done, five of fifteen warehouses, and nineteen small plazas haven't been touched yet. Did finish sixty traveler’s lodges, but she's still irked at what was left behind."
"Any indications of damage resulting from the Dynasty's collapse, or Lunar-Solar War?"
"Nah, not a trace of either. Used to be a giant seawall at the Triburtary's end, it got ripped apart over time thanks to fucking ocean megafauna. Some megaflora moved in later, didn't help but nothing we couldn't burn out after a couple tries.
Jeff and me got real lucky we didn't run into any of THOSE monsters."
"Progressing smoothly then?"
“Mostly, yeah. Waiting on slabs to be done gets real boring though.”

>>390495
>>390566
>Studying Dul flexing out rubber-like claws, Hodch then surveys the remaining treasure, casually sorting out only silverine.
"You noticed as well? Those from the Vortex see Tallus from a unique perspective, one which may be purely energetic. Primal, raw, refined, everything between and outside, as well as, and I do not know how this works, the intentions of each. They inherently 'see' meanings which are familiar to themselves, though comprehending such takes, well, focus, and a great deal of teaching, usually from older individuals of their particular species.
I believe Dul has had enough time to acclimate to a low nominal standard. She can now adequately determine older energies and resonances from those which are currently active."
>Bouncing up and into a standing position, the false-mare smiles widely, stretching out both sets of long front claws which solidify.
>Partially.
"It true now! Dul now know not-moves, barely-moves, sometimes-moves, and it-moves."
>Head swiveling to nicker at the greensteel sphere, she nods in an earth pony-like appreciative motion, then turns gleaming purple eyes at the Void-Flux containing locker, both trios of Riftdrowner strands curling together on her pseudophysical sides.
"Dul really like living metal, it sing lots. Pretty colors too! But Dul think it-wants-to-move-like-living not like being here. Also Dul not want taste it."
>Gaze turning blank at an unstamped silverine coin in shifting white hues, the unicorn reaches up to rub his chin with one knee, then the other.
"Grenach`planyayne sings as well? Odd. Haven't heard it myself though reports are quite common. And a bit humorous.
As for the Void-Flux, do not be concerned. In its purely raw state it is indeed strange, but only seeks to return itself back to the Moors where it originated. It would be easy to find which batpony city would trade that much. I estimate fifty thousand tons of cut stone would have been the cost.
...I also know MY comprehension of the Vortex is sorely lacking."

*"Finally got all the settings fit to my specs, controls were way overtuned.
Just a heads up people, pony, Siren, and little miss: I can push this babe to nearly two-hundred and sixty miles per hour in straight lines, but there aren't many of those. Trees are starting to get a little smaller, so I'm keeping us from one hundred to one hundred sixty for the most part.
And uh, Hodch? Bunch of real strange particle traces, little specks and jitters sort of dancing around. They’ve been hitting the armor, bouncing off, collecting together, then.. dunno how to say this right, other than: doing weird shit."*
"Do they seem to explode without physically doing so, then move in highly erratic predefined patterns?"
*"Exactly! None of them are going through the hull, and they aren't leaving marks or traces either. Rerculon says they're high and extreme energy radioactive particulates too, reflecting off each other and making huge false echoes. Aren't similar to anything in our records either."*
"Those-"
>Face hardening, then softening, the purple stallion's snout twitches in recall, sitting up straight and taking on a disbelieving expression.
"Sustained Elemarental particles, here? That’s not possible.”
>Awkwardly rolling around to sit up in a meditation pose, Katyal stares down, then at the roof, left hand reaching up to press below the same side ear.
“Hey Lone, estimated distance from target location?"
*”Right about three hundred and eighty miles. Why, what’s up?”*
“Some real shonky shit, that's what, here, getting you some info. Take the downlink, scan for the top.. what was it, twenty? Thirty, maybe? Eh, try the top fifty configurations. I left my inspection systems at home so Folu could use them if she needed. Hodch, can you feel any of them?"
"Well, since we are sealed in here, no, not at the momarent. Nibbles, can you come down for a minute?”
>Phasing downwards while emitting a distinctly pleased meow heralds, the batcat lands on her side in a huff right of the unicorn, whom smiles wryly.
"Did you intend to land that way?"
>A short negative head shake and snicker-hiss.
"Nevermind then. Hold still please."
>Head twisting about, then pillow floating a relaxing Nibbles up for several deep sniffs, the Melari is set down again with a hard cast.
"I don't scent, sense, or feel any, which means they are fully active and living. It would take approximately fifty Cores in close proximity, hundreds of native Elemarentals in a gathering, or several tons of refined Elemarental metals to produce them. We would have to be within two to five miles of those three options to even begin noticing them."
*"Can't be, I've only been picking up sleeping critters, underground nests, a few probably not too big monsters, some strange looking birds, and a bunch of ruins. Nothing left in those except the foundations."*
"Can you determine where the majority of particles are coming from?"
*"Already have, one second.. one to two-point-three degrees northwest."*
>Stretching her arms overhead, the First Responder's pointed sigh is muffled throughout the passenger compartment.
"I can think of two places that might be similar."
"Which would be?"
"Buzzard's Rest for one, but with a lot more bullshit than just the particles. Ever been near the Burning Bridge?"
"Three times, at an extreme distance. Once with Twisted Wing, twice with Chuz`Ain. Why?"
"That's where the Eyes are created slash born."
>Taking on a droll, somewhat serious teacher's tone, Katyal reaches out to pick up a reflective kanpri coin, stamped with a quarter Moon pattern.
"It's basically a huge river of Fire and Lava Elements between the path of a few dozen Dynasty towns, Temples and some tiny City-States. All those Cores went boom one day; lots of native ones, Planar, a few Otherworld, couple Spectral, and exactly one Extra-Planar.
Means there's either a not-so-ruined ruin, an active Temple, or a City-State out there. Pare, show us the maps again would ya?"

[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <ExoTech Optronic Particle Scanner
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]

>>390556
>Excluding only batponies, whom often had to be ordered NOT to make sacrifices with fruits, insects, stones, sticks, leaves, or most anything else, Lunars halt to give silent appreciation.
>Pleasing streaks of pale red, orange, white, amid faint traces of silver and gold wash across the perpetual cloud cover, the Void-corrupted lazily clomps towards the rest of Razorback...
>All the while sharply whistling the tones to a fairly normal, albeit lewd traveling song.
>Typical.

>Striding across Basin Village to the northeastern building, the cleanup detail had been thorough, leaving no trace of debris aside.
>Peering in through the first bay window of Lann's shop, one Charger pegasus, which could easily have been confused for a tall Ferron, was checking behind the counter.
>Obviously not finding a human hiding behind it, the mare backs up to release a tired, dissatisfied neigh.
>Skidding sideways to rush the door, the Charger bounds out, taking off in a run towards the next.
>It was still completely empty, as before.

*"Havest translated Mama's Tone, codices affirmed. A..."*
>Metallic buzzing that might have been an attempt at throat clearing occurs, Guillotine speaking in subdued timbres.
*"Mine furious apologies great in numbers, ye grace. There be no sarcophagi aheld within, nor hold ought save a 'long made seat for the pilot'. 'Tis most odd phrasing. Why a seat made long, tae sleep mayhaps?
Safe it be tae explore, save thee combat damage. Shall mineself attempt tae-"*
>Two dull thrums in the background occur, as does an aery, confused electronic chirp before switching to a faintly impressed tone.
*"Held decent from issuing dock, this 'built' vessail has. Ninth Fleet leavest not a pin from records made, near-whole it was 'pon laid tae rest asides thee damage. Mineself knowest not why form made by claw, tool, an' machine, yet weapons be traces akin to mine own.
Newest record of such be thee Eighth Fleet, when last Arena of League built tae rest mine kin's vessails. Year of Tallus in number: two-eight-six-five-one.
Knoweth this much ye shall of Constructed Twos of thee years prior: ranges of weaponry, armor classifications, internal systems, configurations, threat ratings for each. More tae be visited 'pon.
Studied compositions of Rift Plane metals old Fleets did. Act as blood it does, as steel it must. Asame, weapons and armors studied.... fewest answers be all. Perchance neigh answers?
Of equines whom attempted a bond towards: crystal first, bat second, horn, earth, then wing in priority."*

>>390554
>Amethyst smiled lightly, her room had played host to a pile of unconscious Legionaries before, and likely would again even with her absence.
>Amy pondered the question before laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Of course she should.
>She had currently collected almost four tons of gifts, why not the entire dimension?
"Yup! The collection must grow larger!~"

>Amy's head snapped almost disturbingly quickly in her dam's direction the picosecond she said the magical words, eyes sparkling.
"Really? Yes!"
>The filly loped over and, careful not to poke her dam with the sheathed chewed sword, clambering onto her back and hugged her around the withers.
"Thank you, mom!"
>Last ride.

>Looking up, Amy watches Lilamaredre ride the wind and harass onlookers as she had said she would.
>Though Amethyst noticed that at least some of the Legionaries were repeat offenders of the air space, returning for second and third peeks at, sadly, the scuffle that had already ended.

>>390572
>Stick pulsing brightly at the Elemarentals drawing from your room, the puppet speaks in calm surety.
"Then you must return with gifts not even the venerated mare knows of.... or instruct traveling Legionaries to deliver such if you cannot."
>That might take a while depending on the rebuilding, and how the smaller Wells would offer anything of value.
>Or if they became lost, with and without a map.
>Or confused.
>Disoriented.
>Lost again..
>Trapped...
>It was never explained why the Legion was trusted with so marely duties since all of them seemed to have, at minimum, two hideously and usually hilariously inept aptitudes.

"Why wouldn't I?! You're my favorite after all!"
>Tossing the rope out the front door and shifting her weight sideways to let you on more easily, the air freezes in a small radius as she inhales deeply.
>Reasonably cold AND comfy now, dame Amethyst raises her left forehoof to click against your left hoof, snickering quietly as she short-canters out the den door.
"Of course, Little Bug!"
>Nickering towards Umakachov, ears flick in challenge as his scarab helmet turns, standing up from the awkward sitting position.
>Slightly miffed, unscathed biologically, and distinctly hoping the pegasi was done.

>Swatting the mostly physical, off duty Legion ponies from what she deemed her airspace, their echoing cackles and snide half-words were quite pointed as Lilamaredre's instant to rise, fast to end frustration inevitably ceases.
>Hooves, wings, claws, and manes tossed in triumphant measures, each regards her landing on the street with the utmost glee.
>...they hadn't even placed physical bets!
"You took not only the bait, but the sinker, line, and pole."
>Helmet shaking in disappointment, though you easily caught the poorly hidden snort after the last word, your sire's right gauntlet raises towards the house, the motion bends subreality several fractions.
>Fully dragging the rope and pair of sleds to him without moving, then grasping it tightly, the left gauntlet raises to tap his right shoulder pauldron.
>Blinking in surprise at the unspoken offer, Lila cranes her head to give both forehooves a puzzled glance, then back up with several rapid, burning nods.
>..she wasn't going to recover those flames, or was she?
>Crouching down, rear wiggling once, twice, three times, she leaps straight at the prototype armored back, smashing into it and clinging tightly, front legs over the front.
>NOPE, completely forgotten.

>Ringing hooves clopping out into the 0th Ring's wide, not perfectly (circa King Tachell's fall) circular thoroughfare around the topmost Ring, dame Amethyst halts next to her husband, turning to face the house with a merry, and marey, warm tone.
"Remember this much Amy: we built all of this to try raising you properly, but we also knew it wouldn't be enough. Once.. I forget her name, the really strange mare, knows which Gates will be closest, you'll be able to return whenever you want.
We'll also be able to start putting together some better prototypes soon, and hopefilly deliver you the first production line equivalents from the work shop, once we improve it so-"
"The Wells and tunnels are forever patient, et the medium sized chime horse is not."
>Holding her breath, even though she didn't need to, the pegasi's burning eyes travel between tensing Crystal mare and barely half-sized Scarab power armor quickly enough to create a static line.
>Rolling her ears around in a tiny amount of mareishness as she rethinks her next words.
"Nevermind, we can... discuss that later."
"As you say."
>Only a trifle annoyed at the familiar baiting tone, dame Amethyst gives up, her hooves distinctly NOT chiming as she enters a high stepping canter, angling towards the closest set of stairs leading down into the 1st Ring.
"Yet they are, how strange."
"I concur."

>Burning filly and uncaring prototype armor effortlessly pulling sleds behind, cool filly upon freezing Crystal mare skipping down three at a time into the First Ring, Sector 1, much had changed in the past few years, nothing unfamiliar now.
>A few off duty Legionaries picking through the wide, clearly marked fields of barely struggling flora, hundreds of Half-Shade sitting posts empty, and a noted lack of real work.
>Switching to a distance covering lope after the last step, Amethyst the older turns right, glancing up at the 0th Ring above shrinking into a small diorama.
"Don't know if I'll ever get used to that."
"I did! Wasn't too difficult."
"But you can fly. Doesn't that make your perception of each Ring look bizarre from above or below?"
"Nope! If you take a marshmallow and squish it out, then squish it back together, it's the same thing, right?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Indeed, it is."
>Considering your own lack of wings, it made sense, especially when it didn't.

>>390566
>Hearing Hodch's explanation, Pareidolia nods in approval while quietly speaking to himself.
"Good. Initial directions promising in terms of cultural management. Will place on potential list for value assessments. Need to determine their stance on the question of humans."

>Once finished attending to the rest of the lecture, he quickly files through the neatly organized branches and gives a look of approval to Shiibo's avatar.

>The operative takes the chance to finally stand and stretch while Hodch had apparently correctly intuited his line of mental questioning of Dul's nature.
"Scientific evidence would suggest perceiving intentions to be possible with the right forms of perception. Vortex born energy based beings inherently capable of this makes the theory that qualia have a materially consistent basis, a distinct likelihood."

>Feeling circulation rejuvenate his limbs, he heads back to his jumpseat and seats himself.
>Lonestar's chatter regarding particle anomalies causes him to look upward however.
(Radioactive... sustained elemental particles?)
>As Nibbles flops on top of Hodch, Pareidolia stands up while sticking his fist to the ceiling to hold himself in place.
>He looks over the sealed hatches of the vehicle while muttering.
"Operations in contamination zones were always troublesome."

>Hearing the request, he taps his helmet mounted camera while visually scrolling through to access and project the saved images of the maps in question.
"Eyes? This sounds like the aftermath of a nuclear meltdown incident."

>>390576
'All known data and interactions for the Dragonspine Mountains.'
>Bringing up a decent list of recently approved missions and operations in the Dragonspines, all except one was listed as meeting the full stipulation for each contract.
>WITHOUT pissing off the locals, unfriendly fire incidents, or causing property damage and injuries..
>The avatar's face flatlines, staggering to one side and grabbing her head, the possibly theatrical act ending by smashing into a desk off screen, then sprawling out partially in view.
>Hand raising, a curious set of notices from a trading town named Still Peak is tossed onto the internal screen, which Naliyna had sent a newly hired marecenary to, she offers a tentative estimate of, at currently known vectors, 40% compatibility ratings.
'Impossible, how could this be!? Where is this sudden competence coming from!?'
>A small note scrolls by, stating Twisted Wing had gone berserk on two Operators after a mission where two of the sapient Pred-Elk returned near-dead.
>One, Indurian, was left with dozens of concussions, the other, Bubba, had been so severely bruised that Doctor Tipper treated him with a half-dose of Ambrosia.
>That last word was changed into [REDACTED] after two seconds.

>Delivering a complete string of silverine into a bright Lunar blue gateway, one of his secure vaults which Razorback was always welcome to inspect, Hodch closes it, opening a new one, this time in red velvet, directing solely rubynine inside.
"It's a constantly revising theory, in search of diamondine answers really, among the Underground. I have been curious about the Vortex since I was nineteen. Met one of the spined flora-like beings after a delivery. It was able to, ninety-six percent of the time, accurately pinpoint the precise year an object was created, so long as no alterations were made. The other four percent had been altered.
Sirens are among the two hundred or so species favored by their Remnant. I would think they each receive additional training in order to conduct deliveries."
>Eyebrow raising at the Siren's faux-earth mare body rippling in and out of spectrums, his face creases in polite humor.
"And you obviously feel more at ease around her than the majority of ponies. No standoff behaviors, curt wording, or immediate shutdowns. You even.. apologized."

>All except for Dul's eyes vanish, squinting.
[1d6 = 6] <Language Adaption
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Tallus Acclimation
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <Vortex Adapt: Tallus

>Running backlogs through the OT-4's rapidly collecting data streams, 'Shiibo' resets, now leaning against the desk, one hand raising palm up.
'No indications of metallurgical, biological, chemical, electromagnetic, or magical contamination, corruption, or taint, sir. Estimated time to complete new simulations: five minutes.
From current analysis they are, effectively, self-sustained elemental particles in upper to extreme living states of energetic freedom. They do not interact with particles not of their own element, only, as was stated, bouncing off. The false echoes produced are incapable of causing energetic and physical damage, lasting zero-point-zero-one seconds on average.
Without other known factors they seem to be, for lack of more data, playing with each other in their own element.
And, do you have knowledge relating to potentially similar particles, fields, or electromagnetic effects relating to confirmed Shibuya Scenario, sir?'
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <ExoTech Optronic Particle Scanner
1d6+8]
1d6+8]
1d6+8]

>Flicking the coin to Hodch, Katyal stands, grumpily returning to her crash chair, picking up the tablet and turning around.
"Worse, even without the radiation, fallout, and everything else. Exchange a gigantic one hundred and twenty rod nuclear reactor for one of every possible Elemenarental container going up at the same time.
Some regions in Saddle Arabia and Eyeraq are dead zones where no energy exists, at all. If an Elemarental, an Equestrian unicorn, or a Crystal pony walks in, they might drop dead. Others are constantly moving Elemarental maelstroms that don't end, ever. If you ever look at a current map of Saddle Arabia, they're all marked. Ioliths all over both countries usually keep them from moving, but that doesn't mean they're contained.
Best estimate is six hundred thousand ponies and forty thousand Harpies just gone in a second. Then from that river comes a bunch of Ones-Granted-Soul, big floating eyes that're both organic and inorganic like Scoriae Wyrms. We treat them like Lunars treat... well, Luna.
They've got full knowledge of damned near all events throughout the Dynasty's eras, but only speak to true Saddle Arabians unless otherwise ordered. Native Psions, completely unlike earth ponies, can rapid cast spells one after another for hours on end, complete a Grand Rite in seconds, and have no weaknesses.
And don't ever dare joke about threatening a true Saddle Arabian where one might be able to hear, they'll kill solely to avoid one of their honor-bound from getting a scratch."

*"Autopilot set. Little lady, really going to need your help here, I don't know a whole lot about land cartography and most of these programs weren't designed to function without a full satellite and buoy network."*
>Internal screens long since shut down, both return in a matte black state, 'Shiibo' directing her and the Rerculon's full resources to copying, then critically surveying each map.
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <R-AEHI
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]

>>390576
>>390602
>Glove on the Landbarge's ceiling, there was nothing unusual felt from it, nor inside, 'Shiibo' making a quick internal systems check.
'No breaches or unusual phenomena detected.'

>Holographic bubble flickering into condensed view, Lonestar swivels around, arms folded and fingers tapping.
>Which Hodch obliges, a small crystalline box appearing in front of his snout, opening to reveal a complete stack, and floating a thin one towards the navy man whom immediately reaches for a lighter.
"Don't worry, I'll turn the fan on up here."
>Giving the Void-Flux locker a quick knuckle rap, Katyal sniffs several times, turning in surprise to eye the container in jealousy.
"Won't bother m- whoa, I know that scent. Hodch, are those real Vilgrens?"
"Yes."
"Miiiind sharing one with me?"
"Of course not, so long as you don't paint 'kick me' on my saddle again. Though these were among the last they ever sold outside the Crystal Empire, I could not in good conscience allow anypony else to purchase the final box."
"Groovy!"
>Strolling around to take a seat next to the unicorn, the Reservist snorts as Katyal takes and strikes the cigar across his horn, chortling as the tip lights up, the avatar collating information while speaking.
'Vilgren, short for the Vineland's Greenest, is a noted herd of Crystal ponies descending from the Late Conclave during the Pre-Kingdom era. Known for growing a wide assortment of exceptional, upper luxury classed Empire vegetables, fruits, berries, tubers, roots, and spices, their major claim to fame is a unique tobacco species able to grow in the Lowlands.
Exports of Vilgren cigars, among more, were halted immediately after-'
>Displaying a series of notices in Common Equestrian forbidding sale and trade of most commodities to Razorback with a number of attached pictures:
>A well known blue station wagon nearly running over three young, Imperial age Crystal mares, the chubby driver opening his door, the same driver grabbing each hefty coin purse that had been dropped, then the driver closing door and peeling out.
'THAT incident. Imperial Crystal ponies are particularly vengeful, nearly the same as common earth ponies, though far more efficient and calculating in their retaliation.'

>Sharing a few puffs with each other, Katyal lets the unicorn rest against her side as a complete map takes over both internal screens, front and back.
>Using the Falkite to point at the largest ruin, within Caneighdia territory, Hodch exhales a faintly crystalline cloud.
"That one. The Underground and Canterlot College of Magic sent out a notice of exploration when I was fifteen. Got to join solely on account of me being one of the three Lunars that responded."
>Tracing right and down some distance, approximately fifteen miles before indicating a small crossed off dot.
"Used to be a fully intact Warp Gate there. We set camp there the first night, conducted a few careful studies, before rushing to the ruin itself. Combination of City-State, Temple, and laboratory, an all in one domed megastructure. Each section was divided to working with a specific Elemarental.. all twenty-eight of them.
Miss Shiibo, is that directly in line with our current heading?"
>Text scrolls across the map's top, the avatar nodding internally.
'Within a one to two-point-three degree radius, yes.'
"Then this one-"
>Tracing right and down to a medium City-State, listed as 85% of the way between the Northeastern New Everfree and Gryphon Kingdoms boundary.
"Close to the Gryphon Kingdoms Border. Deemed too dangerous to reach without extensive support. I was hoping to have Razorback make a preliminary assessment of it, but that may not happen. That leaves-"
>Far left and down to a large Temple, approximately 300 miles northwest of Razorback Fortress, then making an X over dozens more.
"Third was under review, same as prior. It had been passed over, once by a number of Starborn pegasi, batponies, and Councilmistress Oranti. They left upon sighting an XXXL classed 'clearly moving threat' which none of them attempted to described. For reference, that classification means said threat was a minimum of a hundred to a maximum of two hundred meters, in either height or width. Anything above that is the Titanic classification.
The rest simply aren't possible."

>Passing the cigar back to Katyal, Hodch sighs outwards.
"We know where these active Elemarental particles originate from, but we would take potentially lethal risks attempting to find out what is producing them at this range. However-"
>Lifting Nibbles up once more on a dull red pillow, whom immediately reaches out to rest both front paws on his snout.
"She isn't concerned about them, and believes the 'gathered owners', for lack of a better translation, won't attempt to hinder us from reaching it."
>Flicking ashes off onto floor, Lonestar makes an odd twisting motion with his left hand, the closest screen turned to face him.
"There a name for that all in one ruin?"
"Originally it was Flightwest North Keep, a small Early Dynasty fortress. Became Osten`lia Castle two hundred years later, Panier-Gil City-State six to eight hundred afterwards, and the Fuersk-Altin lab another one hundred fifty years later.
According to the only standard journal we pulled out, the last name was Sept`Eckudel Varkest. Sept obviously means eight, though the engrammatic Dynasty languages allow for compressing entire paragraphs into a few syllables."
"So it's either completely active now, or a bunch of Elemarentals are living somewhere between us and that ruin. Lone, which ones were you able to pick up?"
>Chair swiveling around, the bubble expands once more as he reclines, tapping through a number of screens before settling on one.
"Thanks to Miss Shiibo, can confirm twenty-eight Elemental particles. That's the entire Dynasty selection. Doesn't include the six from Saddle Arabia, four in the Hegemony, and nine in the... redacted places.
Unless we run into something that we can't deal with, I'm going back to manual control."

[1d1000 = 287]

>>390602
>Skimming through the reports, and noting keywords while keeping an ear on Hodch's ongoing lecture, he whispers derisively to Shiibo.
"Likely due to luck and a fluke. And a more recent, as expected human mess. Redaction noted."
(Vague recall on a knight warrior type operator. If that ended up being required for treatment, then mission outcome was dire.)

>Looking over his shoulder as he hooks his right arm into the crook of his left arm's elbow to stretch, he flatly states:
"There is no indication of major cultural contamination vectors from humans to Vortex beings. Therefore I can afford to approach them differently. They are less susceptible to social infection from humans than ponies, which are largely already compromised. And if interaction is necessary which for this operation it will be, then better it be with a human aware of the risks who can manage them."
>Dul's sudden change in appearance prompts him to glance over before realizing she was likely undergoing another round of synchronizing or adapting further to Tallus's planar rules.

>Now standing in front of his jumpseat from the previously mentioned environmental hazards, his shoulders drop slightly as Shiibo denotes the lack of risk.
"The first incident that created the Shibuya Protocol involved a class of humans capable of manipulating particles theorized to be drawn from the Dirac Sea. Those positive and anti particles were utilized to fundamentally alter reality. But there is no evidence of them here and their method of function would only apply to creatures who perceive in the same anatomical fashion as humans. Our current situation of being cut off from Command and operating independently is the criteria for the Shibuya Protocol. Other questions regarding this can be answered later."

>>390604

>Looking at Katyal, he maintains his Sticky one handed grip on the ceiling while the other holds onto his tactical vest's shoulder strap.
"Saddle Arabia sounds like a land of incredible extremes. I assume these Eyes have their own motivations of some kind since the entire land hasn't been wiped away by them. And a bond with true Saddle Arabians."

>He gives a slight affirmative nod to Shiibo's display as Lonestar requests her assistance in navigation.

>Seeing Hodch withdraw cigars, Pareidolia makes a short sigh before furrowing his brow. Seeing a notably unpleasant picture, he squeezes his vest with his free hand.
"Kraut. Will likely need him alive to answer for this. Hope that can be done before the Imperials decide to call their debts."

>He continues to listen, though his understanding is incomplete given the large amount of history and context there was not enough time to provide.
>Thinking back to the prior mention of an "XXXL clearly moving threat", he manifests his yet unnamed weapon in his right hand and looks it over.
(Need to rectify that design flaw when possible. Maybe be able to redirect that functionality somehow. For threats of that size, this needs even more flexibility in firepower magnitude.)

>>390621
>Unable to find more from the Fortress' data, 'Shiibo' offers a sincere frown, appending, footnoting, and clarifying numerous prior reports of yours.
'No more information available. I am however correcting a number of misconceptions on General Twisted Wing, real name: Sapphire Kiwi. Based on the ruthless treatments doled out to a number of humans in the past, her outward actions are well ingrained behavioral cover patterns.
The redaction is solely from how rare and valuable a specific pink substance is. Bubba was noted to have recovered quickly and well, without ill effects.'

>Clearing the rubynine and switching to sapphirine and diamondine, delivering them into another, bright green tinged gateway, Hodch's tone was faintly impressed.
"If you weren't human, I would absolutely swear you to be Kra`ken. Pure logic is all they have, and nothing else. And if a certain pair of idiots on the Citadel had not been drinking themselves stupid, you likely would have met Chuz`Ain, the Kra`ken Overlord and Emissary. A remarkably tactful individual for his species, he is perhaps the closest to humans in behavior.. though their connection to quantum state organic technologies causes them to think in sometimes bizarre logarithmic patterns."

'Then nothing useful, similar, or related. Understood sir.
Significant progress has been made. The Reculon system has eight pseudo-operational personalities, of simple forms, with one specifically related to oceanic world based data, regarding five thousand plus years of highly active radiation exposure. Particles, interactions with magnetic fields, biological, chemical, metallurgic exposure, and far more. Exceptional value for cross-referencing.
I cannot confirm a complete lack of danger, however the probability of direct physical contamination is 9.2%; esoteric corruption or taint is 5.6%; mental contamination is 0.1%. The first two are swiftly decreasing.'

>Picking the tablet up for a quick inspection, Katyal reaches for her jacket, unfolding a large lower pocket to pull out a giant Asian hornet.. which wasn't alive.
"It is, and they do. I might be able to join Saddle Arabian herds but it's painful, the last remaining ones ones aren't doing good. With the Nags it's like putting on a pair of soft, cool silk gloves though, and Neighsians are so damned open it's hard not to join their Overherds. Love visiting them too, their food's amazing.
Eyes are just... unknown. They're supreme Psions and casters with complete tolerance of, and alignments to, the native Elemarents. They don't experience burnout, are basically inexhaustible, and have complete records of everything the Dynasty did in Saddle Arabia. Least until the Burning Bridge happened. Went against a new one in an honor-test, lasted less than four seconds.
My own not-working-so-well theory is that they were created from all those Cores going boom at once, which became some type of twisted omni-Elemarental gestalt, then untwisted itself upon learning everything the souls of several hundred thousand ponies and Harpies knew.
They're so obsessed with correcting Dynasty mistakes that the free ones will do almost anything: using intact Cores, creating temporary or artificial ones, beckoning huge Elemarentals, calling on Old Ones, or those Unspoken weirdos, demanding Remnants to absorb their own Planar essences, among others.
Saw a giant horse once, basically a regional avatar of Void. Didn't like that one. At ALL."

>Eyebrows raising and held for zero-point-nine seconds, the avatar's tone becomes droll.
'That will be difficult as his current condition is, quote: 'minced human in stasis', end quote.
There are forty simple options which will ease tensions with the majority of Imperial groupings, fifteen marginal, nine difficult, and one expensive. Correction: highly expensive.... and thoroughly distasteful.'

>Closing the gateways with a supremely satisfied huff, Hodch's head turns enough to eyeball the stacks of bars, rounds, and others, puffing lightly on the cigar.
"Hmmmm. Damn. Those are all low, middle, and high class alloys from the Middle Dynasty. Was hoping for the more useful composites, but Amerose can sort them later."
>Making a wide sweeping motion, the gateway expands, engulfing the materials swiftly before closing, though Nibbles leaps straight up into, and through the ceiling.
"Guess she didn't like that one."
>Pushing around to face the rear doors, his right ear swivels at you, leaning backwards as the black kanpri anvil drops in front of him.
"Pare, your weapon please. And, just so I can tinker with a few variables, what would your preferred weapon, or weapons, be? I believe I heard something about a halberd. Give me full specifications and I should be able to create a conjoined Tallus and Planar Lightning version.
And unlike a certain pony's works, it will NOT become sentient nor sapient. "

>Tossing the hornet up, the wings buzz as it takes on a stationary position, spinning in circles as the woman begins poking the tablet screen, looking up after a few seconds.
"Ey, that thing feels weird, like an earth pony throwing Gravity around. Nifty looking though. Kinda wish I brought my launcher but it's a little unstable at the best of times. Fusion, particle, plasma, or other?"

>Both internal screens switch to normal in a forward and rearward viewing mode, now little more than scattered, slightly smaller megatrees being passed by at marginally dangerously speed.
*"Passed a fifty foot green bear or something real similar a few seconds back, kind of... not running, more like sliding on air, going straight northwest. Anyone feel it?"*
"Nope."
"Not at all."
*"Huh. Guess the environmental sealing's real good then."*

[1d100 = 22] <Intensity
[1d100 = 69] <Range

>>390575
>Amy sat up on her dam's back and rubbed her cheek against the stick, fingers and puppet pressing at points along its length, Amy settled the excited energies in her Stick.
>Gifts from the above world, that was a good idea, her dam and sire might like that.
>Though Amy was loathe to surrender gifts under the best of circumstances, she could always part with some in exchange for others.
>She sounded merry hums at the thought.

>Ears wiggling with amusement, Amy returned her stick to its place upon her back, just next to the chewed sword, though sticking in place of its own accord rather than requiring a sheath as the blade did.
>Gazing up once again at Lilamaredre having rightfully taken the bait, for what better pastime was there than to scuffle, she watched, judged her landing, and snickered at her lack of hesitation in perching on her father's shoulder.
>She settled down, attentive to her dam's words, but most importantly the emotions conveyed through her subtones, as the more important meaning.
>Amethyst the younger could return whenever she wanted, perhaps not to live, yet welcome all the same, bittersweet.
"I understand."
>In that simple affirmation were the tones carrying yet more meaning and gratitude. What was provided had always been enough for her. Truly the best and cherished.
>She gasped, mostly with faux insult, at her sire's light provocation.
>He could easily have been referring to either Amethyst the elder or Amethyst the younger.
>Though her dam's impressed emphasis indicated that another scuffle would be had over precisely what had been meant.
>Amy was not impatient, just... Eager for the future to arrive.
>Not impatient!

>The ipotane turned as much as she was able and followed her dam's gaze with an inclined head.
>She'd never found the way space worked to be unusual, though of the four of them, she was the only one who had never known anything different.
>It was simply the norm. Why wouldn't space stretch and fold itself away from marginally distant observers?
>She wondered if the world above would appear as unusual to her visually and idly remarked on it.
"I wonder if the sky will stretch like this."

>>390625
>He mentally files that information away, hopefully to never be heard uttered by anyone else.
"Noted."
(Calling her Sapphire Kiwi would result in swift, permanent injury.)

>Hodch's comment brings a pensive look to Pareidolia's face, hidden behind his helmet.
(Kra'ken... Overlord and Emissary Chuz'Ain? He was in the Citadel Armory then and had said 'While it is interesting to see a Siren-touched still live...')
>That questioning line of thought remained simmering as he listens to Shiibo's report.
"Understood."

>Eyeing the hornet warily, he pushes away the brief instinctual wave of revulsion at seeing such a large specimen of insect.
>He disengages his Sticky enchantment, deciding to sit back down in his jumpseat as he nods at Katyal.
"Would be ideal to avoid encountering one during this operation then. Any entity that we cannot safely say 'No' to in reasoning would be too great a risk."

>Pursing his lips behind his helmet, he exhales through them sharply before speaking to Shiibo.
"And he should be the one to clean up his own mess. Especially a human cultural incident. But I'll consider options later if he remains indisposed."

>Hearing the thud of Hodch's anvil, he reaches up and unsticks his Gozkan blade from his back. Proferring it upwards for the unicorn to magically carry over.
"Give me a minute to consider my options."

>He glances towards Katyal.
"Particle. It can direct a graviton based on my mental commands."

>Falling silent, he rubs his chin for some time before answering Hodch's offer by sifting through saved images and compositing a weapon out of various other existing polearms before projecting them via his helmet camera.
"Considering this. Overall length of 7 feet. Extending the crossguard slightly to match the profile of a sword spear. Debating whether to incorporate small squared points to the ends of the guards for hammer heads/blunt points to have a usable armor-cracking function. The butt of the polearm being a dragon's claw shape, either opened or closed. But I am not experienced in melee weapon design principles with Tallus materials."
>He pauses for a moment.
"... And regarding that Kra'ken. I think I did encounter him while defending the Citadel from Construct intrusion. I had to retrieve my equipment from the Armory which he was in. He had said it was rare to see a living Siren-touched... do you know why that would be?"

>>371093 →
>Ponies are fucking weird.
>Why can't they be more human-like.
>Bubba would only spare the two a brief, bemused glance, before focusing back to Stream Lark.

"Shovels wouldn't help our case at this point, and I damn well know it."
>He sighed, shaking his head a bit.
"I wouldn't know. The last I've seen of them, they were both alive. Went out on some mission that I should have checked on, so I wouldn't know their chances of surviving that."
>Bubba completely understood the glyph's reaction to the names.
>He at least didn't think disfavorably of Kraut.
>Just thought he was a goober.
>He turned his head towards the Councillerge, returning the gesture by shaking his hoof.
"Both, if preferable. One can't be too careful, especially with what's been going on."

>>390630
>Dulling briefly, the Stick comprehends the order to remain subdued and not try to draw every last trace of ambient essences into itself.
>Only for you, of course.

"The skies of Tallus confused and daunted me when I first saw them."
>Comfortably moving at brisk paces, dame Amethyst's head turns to regard her husband in faint curiosity, speaking through the vox in solemn tones, left gauntlet reaching up to settle on Lilamaredre's hooves.
"Before, I was minuscule, nonexistent, the pawn of a billion pawns, rarely seeing a knight save to obey the laws and rules it issued, ones which changed without reason, logic, rationale, trust, or rhyme. I never knew what would occur save for an inevitable, dishonorable end by bolt, fist, blade, or shell delivered through ignorance. It came, of course, and not in a manner I could have suspected.
When my eyes opened to gaze upwards once more, all had changed. We beheld the Sun delivering her warm rays and the Moon amongst her children's stars in New Canterlot. They were endless. I could not comprehend their enormity, nor their beauty for a long time.
Then came the next sky. Brilliantly gleaming, shining proudly through the agonizing scars it bore. Infinite, yet more hallowed than the first two. As I explored and learned what meanings or desires could truly become, I met a mare-"
>Smile visible through crysamare plating, he nods after a moment from your dam's giggle.
"If I were to walk a beach that could never be explored within a thousand lifetimes, it was there in the Crystal Empire City-State I understood what my previous life had utterly missed: holy and unholy are only the reflections of each other."
>Helmet turning right, first to your dam, then onto you, deep impressions of patient gratitude roll outwards.
"I was terrified when we arrived here, not knowing what others would have done to us. Yet the first time I held you and your dam together, I discovered there was no such thing as a heretic. Empathy, compassion, love, yearning, what I had known the barest of and never experienced became my entire world."
>Forceful projections taking the rope, the right gauntlet reaches out to gently pat your head, fore and small finger poking both ears amusingly.
"Yet this is the world we chose, but it is not the one we promised you."
>Swerving left several steps to trot alongside Umakachov, wreathes of song shared between them, Lila gazes down at the flat crystalline path while your dam's voice chimes in assurance.
"They will. There'll no end to what you see. From the Empire Coldlands, the Rime Cluster of stars will guide you. In the Heartlands, look for the Princesses Together. In the Hegemony, seek out the Five Brothers. And when you first place hoof in the Moors, greet the Lonely Mare as kin."

>Unlike the other Rings where walking the path took a great deal of time, the 1st's unusual ten steps traveled per one made ratio was, usually, appreciated, and this time was no different.
>Well visible, the colossal Void-subsumed Dragon King slowly becomes much larger as the two filly-carriers approach the 53 signpost, one annoyed at the inability to take a scale, the other annoyed at irregular background noises.
>Slowing to a halt and stepping off the path, then between a pair of sweetroot fields, you remember this Outskirt section nearly being destroyed from Tachell's fall, creating a vast mess to remove.
>The phrase 'artificial mountain side' was often used in humored tinges given the materials that had been discovered.
>A single path had been carved upwards where the King held onto a ragged facing, silently unmoving until Umakachov and dame Amethyst pass under the enormous chin.
>Hearing rather than seeing the former Nature King's maw splitting in a grin, his voice creates gusts of wind with a hearty, agreeing second echo.
"This one has been untouched for a long time now. The rituals to awaken it are complete, except for the most important one: your lovely hoof, my dear."

>Spotting Avernus standing broadside and illuminated by a mist shrouded green Gate, it was, oddly, partly buried in blackened, though not Void-tinged pseudostone.
>The King's half-blind white eyes blink, rolling to one side, then the other at a distant, high pitched horn lasting for three seconds, turning into a flat blaring note for another two, then spiking into a rising screech for one, muttering shallowly after.
"Am I mistaken in my middle age or is that a Herald's proclamation?"
>Instantly seizing the opportunity to leap onto the first sled, Lilamaredre spins around to face the path downwards, head cocking to listen as Avernus floats the rope to her.
"That's strange, there's music.. and singing?"
"It is, but I do not recognize the second and third tones though."

>Stilled at a sequence of rapidly spiking keynotes amidst a slow chanting choir, a sweeping, lilt-carrying tune raising in harsh reverberations, followed by intense, piercing brass declarations, Umakachov and dame Amethyst snarl, then speak in tune.
"We do!"
>Throwing the rope forwards and snapping ninety degrees right in a single motion, your sire reaches out to pick you up for tight hug, whispering through the helmet this time.
"Amy, remember what I taught you: weapon or shield in one hand and staff forever in the other! And no matter which rituals you choose to attempt, find Razorback first!"

>Returning Lila's worried face with a pleasing smile of her own, dame Amethyst shakes her head, spinning around and taking a partial crouching pose."
"Give a hug to your teacher when you find her. And Amy, you'll find the Gates leading back here. Go, and only look back once!"

>Catching the rope and typing a quick double knot around her barrel, then a half-hitch on her chest, the Baroness reaches forwards, left hoof stomping as she declares in a hard, cold tone.
<Middle Dynasty Voce-Engram> "By the graces of Four Hooves, let us pass freely!"
[1d10000 = 8293] <Tartarus Tunnel Network
[1d20 = 5] <Exit Distance
[1d1000 = 839] <Pre-Modern Passage: Saddle Arabia

>>390633
>Directing the hornet drone around in simple patterns, then switching to complex maneuvers, the woman's face tightens in seriousness.
"Won't be any Eyes in the New Everfree. Until a couple hundred more are freed they won't bother trying to restore this entire region. Most are too busy trying to restore Saddle Arabia and the eastern sections of Neighsia. Outside of that, chunks of Equestria, Neighvada, Gryphon Kingdoms, and Hegemony have some wandering around. They also patrol four, maybe five places in the Moors too. As for the Old Everfree, they've already been through . That place is clean so to speak, but still fucked in ways they can't explain.
You CAN tell 'em no but you better have solid reasoning to back that up. The word of a Saddle Arabian, true or Nag, is holy to them, but at best they'll listen to what I have to say... maybe I should get green man to upgrade this damn swarm a bit."
[1d6 = 1] <Choice

>Swiveling to eye a rapid series of readouts, the avatar's shoulders lift, dropping at a short negative tone.
'Without the possibility of uploading his consciousness to an android body, consolidation into a Crystalline shell, being rendered Undead, imbued as a Naghtmare, or...... other equally repulsive options, Kraut will be permanently indisposed. Which will certainly allow for excellent chances of recovering standing among the Imperial adherents.
Simulations on Empire motivations will resume once more data is acquired.'

>Tossing a thumbs up, Katyal reaches out for the drone, stuffing it away and setting her tablet down, slinging the jacket back on.
"Niiiiiice! Mine's basically a neutron 'dispenser' of sorts, looks like a grenade rifle but retarded and blocky. Some crazy pseudoscience bullshit experiment dreamed up in a ten kilometer deep lab about sixty years back come to life. That thing makes MAGIC look plain and simple. Reloading it's a real bitch too."

>Display studied until nodding, the Reservist gestures with his right forehoof, stacks of conceptual Planar Lightning spread around him, selecting through each by feel.
"That will be relatively simple to create. I will attempt to allow the head to become adjustable form as well; piercing, cutting, and blunt."
>Selecting a batch of nearly sixty pieces, he halts, entire coat and mane bristling in extreme alarm.
"That... could not have been Chuz`Ain. Or ANY Lunar aligned, allied, or visiting Kra`ken for that matter. You.. you talked to Durandal. Best known as Second Emissary of the Void, among the THREE known Emissaries.."
>Finally blinking, eyes swivel to regard with you trace horror, but mostly deeply rooted fear.
"Mortals are never allowed to see him regardless of their presumed astounding mental faculties as doing so is, in almost every instance, lethal. In the less than one percent chance an individual does survive, they are immediately dragged so far down into the deepest sections of The Black that they cannot harm others for, at minimum, one century.
If you should EVER meet him again.. do not fucking look. Durandal is effectively one-third of Tallus Void, manifested into a single individual."
>Full body shivering, the unicorn slowly turns to stare down at the anvil's unblemished surface, then sets the Panorama Blade longways for a quick up and down inspection.
>Leaning forward to take a sniff, he halts, sitting back abruptly.
"I do. Void and Vortex have never been friendly, though they share similar hatreds towards the Rift, Ethereals, and some Dominion beings. However, Citadel-born only interact with the Vortex in one of two ways: transit through translocation tunnels, or giving packages to a courier. What i-"
>Motionless for a quarter minute, he leans back further to frown, speaking in a clueless tone.
"Is this real, or am I finally losing what's left of my mind?"
>Reaching out to tap on it with the left front hoof, then the right, both splay across its length, expression twisting across confused states.
"....Pare, once I am done, would you please tell me WHERE and WHEN you acquired this Lunar Shard. It is far newer than all the ones I've seen. Luna removes exactly one thousand at a time from the Moon whenever enough Guard, Starborn, Armories, reliquaries, and Moorites request additional ones to restock or replace. The last time she did that was in 29,981, nearly two decades prior to now. This is less than... five, possibly six years old. Which doesn't make sense. Hmmmmmmm. Wonder if-"
>Poking at the Gozkan village scene ten times from different angles, his ears flatten as both hooves lift, pulling the Lunar Shard up and placing it on the blade's surface.
"No? Ahhh, the infusion process was Luna's doing. Either way, this will not take long."
>A short, hiltless Lumin blade appears, thoroughly covered in stamps of the Moon and starbursts, both front frogs are stabbed with a faint ringing tone, dissipating immediately afterwards.
>Pooling a number of blood drops on the blade itself, Hodch leans forwards, muttering in a coldly vibrating, harshly guttural language-
>One which was instantly familiar as Mercy used it quite often: archaic Minotaur.
>Seemingly of its own accord, the small black onyx ship appears, drifting in circles around the deep purple unicorn, the colors flaring off it, sacrificial blood, and nearly all light in the passenger compartment dampen, streaking around the Lunar Shard in countless swirls.
[1d6+17 = (4+17) = 21] <GM.Necromarecy: Blood For Stars
[1d6+17 = (3+17) = 20]
[1d6+17 = (2+17) = 19]
[1d6+17 = (1+17) = 18]
[1d6+16 = (5+16) = 21] <M.Enchanting, Black Anvil Imbued
[1d6+16 = (1+16) = 17]
[1d6+16 = (5+16) = 21]
[1d6+16 = (2+16) = 18]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <GM.Mysticism: Change-The-Moon-Eternal
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]

>Morbid curiosity fully taking hold at first, 'Shiibo' suspends all of her functions save for primary.
>Physically backing up in near-panicked alarm, flickers of instability registering throughout the helmet's processes.
'SIR.. is that a.. ritual known to you? I-'
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <E.Electronic Warfare: EMP Hardening
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]

>>390658
>Tapping his helmet camera, he turns off the projection while nodding at Hodch.
"Appreciated."

>His brow furrows in recollection as he is corrected on the particular Kra'ken he encountered.
(Right... Right, it was Durandal. Failed to recall his name.)
>Holding up a hand, he presses his palm down in a placating motion.
"Yes. He had advised me not to turn around at that time. I was more concerned with acquiring my gear and responding to the Construct offensive. And I don't intend on returning to the Citadel if at all possible. He must have assumed I was Citadel-born then-hm?"
>Craning his head in an attempt to see what was confusing Hodch, Pareidolia unsuccessfully tries to identify the problem from his jumpseat.
>Hodch's question prompts him to recall rather old memories.
(It must have been after the Memorial Village operation... I know it was my first purchase. Then at that time...)
>A distasteful glower crosses his face as he finally remembers where he acquired the suspiciously young Lunar Shard from. He mutters to himself.
"Of course, from Lucky. Yet more baggage to clean."

>As the lights start to flicker, his attention returns fully to the ongoing ritual. Leaning backwards only slightly, he remarks offhandedly:
"No. But Hodch wouldn't conduct any ritual that would cause harm to any of us here. This is likely partly Necromantic in nature... "
>Glancing around the compartment, he seeks to confirm his statement of assurance.
"I just hope he isn't straining himself with this blood. But this should pose no major risk to you or me."

>Once the ritual finishes, he would inform Hodch about the names of the ponies he acquired the Shard from, namely Lucky, Tacit, and Kend.

>>390641
>Eyes closing, guilt, shame, regret, pain, fury, depression, and more marr the Councilierge's face, head dipped for some time before murmuring.
"By the alicorns, I wish that was all we needed to dig everyone and everypony out of these holes.."
>Lifting once more, he gives a short, dismayed exhale, both forehooves making plaintive motions.
"I do not know enough of Kraut's history, aside from a theft in the Empire City-State. He was only sighted three, perhaps four times in Stalliongrad, and did not cause enough damage to warrant more than a request he be confined until a Luminary is able to cleanse him.
As for Filth.. he must either be permanently banished from Equestria to a place he can harm no others, or die. The Solar corruption and taint he has spread, and the vile natures of his many destructive actions, cannot be forgiven by Solar, Lunar, or other.
Barring that, what I say next is of the utmost importance. The Empress has fallen, perhaps for the last time. There are none whom can replace her, yet that is the good news. Since she is no longer a threat, the only one which remains is Horizon."
>Hair brittle above the hoof, though still firmly meeting your hand, the Imperial mares snarl in a variety of sharp tones, his jet black coat rippling in faint disgust, which wasn't directed at you.
"Be at ease. Horizon is obviously not here, otherwise she would have struck alrady. I do not detect either a Sunglobe or sunorb here, though that does not mean one has not been carefully hidden."
>Listening to their harsh, flowing words for half a minute, Stream Lark sets his hooves back on the table with a polite nod.
"They have confirmed none are within the Enclave, though that does not rule out one or more spread across the Ferron Coast.
Bubba, I know for absolute fact that THING was able to taint a million or more ponies across this world, including Marrowgrin, Lord Sevrit, and a Greater Magma Elemarental. Before the Lunar-Solar War ended, Horizon was actively meeting with the, for lack of a better word, heretical One Sun cult. When they were wiped out, she could no longer act in the open.
The Tower Guard and... a large number of ponies met, devising options to take if she, or Silver, were to appear again in the open."
>Side eyeing the cells left and right, Lark grimaces.
"What I am about to state will not be easy to understand, nor simple to overcome.
Long before two hundred humans were to be summoned onto Tallus, myself, Shared Roses, mostly known as Sha'Ro, Linara, my daughter, the most trusted Tower Guard, and marely outsiders created hundreds of thousand of false images, recordings, and paper records, all to throw Horizon and the Empress off. I cannot state whom and what else was involved as the first has been able to corrupt, taint, and strike with sheer impunity, while the second.. the less said the better.
Some time back, Jeff, I believe the name is, was able to access the some of those held on a dedicated server. Six of the Stallionguard, which are the thirty humans whom arrived to aid Stalliongrad, maintained a constant vigil to ensure their data could not be compromised until a set of keywords was made.
When those thirty humans arrived, they were sworn into the Tower Guard, then prepared for what would potentially occur, whether that was Horizon or the Empress resurging first. It was their idea to divert the attention of both, everywhere at once, using ANY means available to them. Of the three hundred and eighty or so current Stallionguard, only nineteen remain of the originals, though their duties have been passed on.
They are not immune to Anti, though their large squad sizes and constant presence of Support Strikers prevent them from all becoming contaminated or overtaken by Horizon at the same time.
Now, admittedly it took a while until that highly specific search could be made using the Third Gestalt's technology. He is known as Anonymous, sometimes Anon, among other terms.
You certainly know a pony named Sweet Dreams. The Juggernaut is her true title, the one she gave herself. You may well know what Anti is, but not what it could, can, and must do. There is much that cannot be uncovered until the time is precisely right."
>Leaning back to circle his right forehoof on the table, Stream Lark scowls, deeply held misery being the only sensation the soul-glyph feels from him.
"Not everything you and others may have experienced in the past two years is a lie. As far as the humans of Razorback and the ponies alongside her are concerned, what they KNOW is the truth. Keep it that way to continue throwing Horizon into a death spiral of overthinking. Do not correct those falsehoods or reduce their number if you should know otherwise."

>Tremendous screeching of metal-on-energy from the far right cell are followed by a series of crackles, neither magical nor Psionic from what the glyph could tell.
"THESE SHITTY WALLS WON'T HOLD LONG ENOUGH TO MATTER!"
[1d6+18 = (3+18) = 21] <?????
[1d6+18 = (6+18) = 24]
[1d6+18 = (4+18) = 22]
[1d6+18 = (2+18) = 20]
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21] <?????

".......was Skullcracker wrong about her being untainted, or did w-"
>Blinking rapidly, the older stallion's ears flatten, the Imperial unit striding to face the southwest cell in a wedge, sections of crystalline armor lifting, clusters of manabombs drifting forwards and set in a rough circle.
"No, not enough time to think. You wouldn't happen to have a one or two thousand pound bomb on hand? In the majority of her forms Horizon is highly resistant to the best weaponry and enchantmarents we have been able to create or recover, yet explosives seem to harm her rather effectively. Imperials only carry six small or two medium diamond-cased manabombs.
That is, IF 'Pear Blossom' isn't simply one of that monstrosity's Anti-twisted and modified agents."
>Easing himself off the seat to stand, the Councilierge glares coldly past you.
"Bubba, is escaping an option, or is this Enclave one without an external exit? If not, where is the safest place I can speak to Razorback openly?"

[1d100 = 27]

>>390660
>Rigidly holding the pose, Hodch's body begins to distort, first in geomantic, Necromantic, then utterly non-Euclidean patterns, reshaping the Lunar Shard as streaks of bright silver-blue essence, flowing together in tight red, blue, and Lumen strands.
>His voice, if it was his, becomes a rough, four-sided tenor; one irritated, the second amused, the third disgusted, and the fourth marginally exasperated.
"It is excellent you heeded his warning. And, should I live, you will accept my recommarendation to be formally given permanent Lunar access.. under extremely well armed, armored, and hostile guardship. Oranti and Ridgeback should serve as fine mistakes for the Starborn to learn from. Laxity and carelessness may be acceptable elsewhere, though not within the Citadel.
Perhaps their deaths will encourage the Burning General to awaken from the Hyfalgryph-induced reverie which has claimed her for so long. Or she may continue sleeping amongst more pleasant dreams as Enchained are wont to."

>Shifting to get comfortable, Katyal's gaze darts up at the ritual taking place, muttering in stark, flat humor.
"Fucking Mystics. Fucking Necromancers. Every single fucking time they show their real selves and I just have to be there to see it. Pare, Lone, ignore him until he's done.
And which Lucky is that? Er, Lucky Strikes is dead. The four Lucky sisters, or Lucky the Matron? ....isn't that the pegasus Isiet was telling me got thrown out o-"
>Stiffening, she immediately snatches the tablet with her right hand, left hand raising to press below her ear.
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <B.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
"Gimme a minute, I might know something about them-"

>Arms spreading out, the digital appearance of 'Shiibo' degrades into what should be a corrupted state, distorted flickers of numbers, symbols, and text now composing her avatar.
'I.. see it. And... feel it as well. These sensations are NOT similar to known forms of energy states, fields, particles, or known scenarios. Both my functions and the Rerculon's are not being hampered nor prevent, though this is.... uniquely distressing. I would not consider it painful.
At least, not yet.'

>Lifting the Panorama Blade up in a swirl of moonlight, Hodch reaches out to flick the empowered Lunar Shard into it, which is then directed back towards you.
"Why am I not surprised. Dim-witted usurpers basking upon a bed of false grief. They should have known better than trying to fool one of us.
This one is now suitably heightened in dangerous qualities to qualify as 'complete', though the Nightmare or Reaper would do considerably better than I. Now for the second."
>Interrupted by Lonestar shouting and tearing his headset off, the bubble around him collapses into a series of forward displays.
"Mother of ALL gods and goddesses, that damn noise here?!!"
"What's wrong with you now dude? We're i-"
>Chair swiveling enough to throw the right middle finger at Katyal, the navy man snarls, pointing forwards.
"Rerculon's picking up the biggest fucking power surge it can register from two-ten to two-thirty, southwest of us about twenty-five miles out! Get whatever the fuck you're doing back there done and prepare to crash in four, maybe five minutes! And Hodch, STOP trying to Ee-Em-Pee us all!"
"If I had done so, you would know instantly. Or perhaps, you would not. Quite luckily for you, I know quite well how to avoid electrically destroying, damaging, and seizing biological functions. Or to conduct the precise opposite. As it is, I will.. expedite this delicate task a small amount, though it will cause a small amount of irritation, and perhaps stiffness LATER.
Dul, please remain between spectrums. However, if you must move, I ask that you secure Pareidolia in the event of a crash."
>Eyes widening at her name being called, then expanding far more to take notice of the scene around her, the Siren's response is terrified.
"Dul.. secure for what?"
"Prevent him from being thrown around, like a package carelessly tossed into Vortex storms."
"....Dul can do.. that?"
"Thank you. Now, to commit a task I have prized little throughout my years. Perhaps my dam was right; I should have been a smith first, then researcher."

>Opening the Storm King's room to peer inside, each lightning-scarred hoof reaches in to pick up a horn ring, streaks of yellow taking over his coat, mane, tail, and horn.
>Weighing the silverine and Lunar Duelist one, twice, nodding with a serene expression, both are lifted and allowing to drop onto his horn, both forehooves clop together hollowly, then spread forwards over the anvil.
"Construction."
>The term was name, description, title, and life, flashes of the Lightning Plane giant lifting a colossal hammer take over the internal screens, black clouds covered in bright yellow fringes take shape throughout the passenger compartment.
>Bringing all of the Planar Lightning together using both hooves, the-Hodch-that-is inhales deeply, breathing out in a voice which was not heard, only felt:
I seek Those Whom Exist Before, hear my voice from each and every wellspring,
From the Plane of Lightning I call you forth, each grand aspect of the Storm King;
Grant me thy knowledge to shape this, your Lifeblood and Essence Eternal;
Hold aloft thy hammer and still it but a moment, Greatest Among The Equal;
To bind what must be be held by ally into forms only he may bear;
I savor each percussion and vibration as you fall upon the stock I hold here;
Ring in, ring on, ring upon, ring again, again, and again that which is to come;
By the Elemental Plane of Lightning, hold no furies back until your last work is done!
[1d6+17 = (2+17) = 19] <GM.Necromarecy: Blood To Lightning, Lightning As Blood
[1d6+17 = (5+17) = 22]
[1d6+17 = (4+17) = 21]
[1d6+17 = (6+17) = 23]
[1d6+16 = (1+16) = 17] <M.Enchanting, Black Anvil Imbued: Cacophony of Storms
[1d6+16 = (2+16) = 18]
[1d6+16 = (6+16) = 22]
[1d6+16 = (4+16) = 20]
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17] <Grand Rite: The Endless, Tireless Work
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+15 = (5+15) = 20]
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19] <GM.Casting: Conjoined Lightning
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17]
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14] <GM.Mysticism: Shape-The-Charge-Which-Must-Be
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]

>>390664
>Upon hearing Hodch's insistence of a recommendation, Parediolia sighs and shakes his head in exasperation but remains silent.
(I want as little to do with that faction beyond necessary relations for Guidance Protocol tasking. These pony cultural values-tsk. Deal with it later.)

>He grimaces slightly as the ritual continues, throwing a correction to Katyal.
"It was Lucky Strikes, that Lucky. Likely acquired the Moon Shard illegally. Her being dead is only the start of cleaning up this human-made mess."
>He then glances at Shiibo's avatar with some concern.
"It's affecting you to this degree? Don't force yourself if it becomes a problem. Shut down if you need to, if it comes to it. This is a new variable for me, so I can't promise accurate assesments."

>Grim news of a complication delievered by Lonestar causes Pareidolia to stand immediately.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHKV6XpZaYY&list=PL6V-0qYZezjFN_2lP5NqbAZqjdItLq_X0&index=2

(Great. Heavy impact in estimated 4 minutes. Secure equipment. Brace.)
"Shiibo, that power surge may overwhelm any EMP hardening we have. Finish what you need to and prep for shut down."
>Rushing towards his locker, he begins retrieving his pack and assorted gear. As he Stickies it to his legs, he notes Dul taking in her surroundings with apparent fearful disorientation.
>Moving past her to resecure himself in the jump seat, he says:
"Hodch is performing a ritual to make one of my weapons stronger, using some of his own blood. You don't need to worry about that. Right now-"
>There is a pause as he straps himself in and reSticks his pack to his legs.
>A twinge of discomfort crosses his face as Hodch's increasingly unsettling mysticism rises over the compartment. Speaking over the loud "thoughts" of the Lighting Construction, he continues:
"-focus on bracing for a big... boom of some kind. In less than 4 minutes, we will be impacted by a major blast wave that may damage this transport. I can use my Sticky enchantment, and should likely be safe. You should be ready to hold on to avoid being thrown around."

(Of course there had to be something. Even here. Really wish Command oversight was here to redress contingencies.)

>>390342
"People would say you're not making sense."
>I do understand the idea, at least.
"You underestimate the human ability to complain or tell someone something despite fully knowing that it is out of their hands."
>I give her an even stare.
"Ponies are weird, Wild. Someone will undoubtedly want to date you, I am certain."
>And I'll smack them for trying.
>With a stick or something.

>I just give her another look at that, before digging out a rag to hold over my mouth and nose.
>I do not like this foul stench.

>Watching her... adjust, I sure was glad I didn't have the technological know-how to know just how impossible what she was doing should be.
>I gaze into the abyss and don't acknowledge it gazing back.

"I'd say I can only imagine, but I don't think hard enough for something to that degree."
>As she resumes repairing, I stretch my legs, walking around a bit and keeping from breaking down myself.
>This is one fuck of a situation.

>>390666
>Poking the screen once, Katyal lifts her tablet, showing a highly toned, mid-40's pegasus stallion sneering in broadside flight, a full set of mostly clear, long wingblades on the visible feathers.
"Nope, wrong name. This is Lucky Strikes, sire of the five Lucky sisters in Las Pegasus, to five different dams no less. Killed about fifteen years ago when somepony popped a Rift gate open in the middle of Las Pegasus. Wasn't a Construct that got him though.
Real piece of work; killed and looted through reliquaries, armories, museums, graveyards, barracks, you name it, all over Mainland Equestria, Moors, Hegemony, Neighsia, Saddle Arabia, Gryphon Kingdoms, middle to big cloud-cities. Even slipped into the Dragonspines and a few places in the Crystal Empire. Worst part is he was never caught, but his five hundred or so crew are mostly dead now.
Bastard's record makes Hodch look normal-"
>Bombastic, OFFENDED criminal side eye.
"How does relatively normal for a LUNAR sound? Eh, Matron Lucky's the one that got executed in the Crystal Empire a while back. Sold ultra rare pieces, lost or missing holy relics, among other stuff nopony knew how to get for whack prices. Also there was something about a bunch of fake salt but we didn't get involved with that. Her sisters disappeared a while ago and nopony's got a single clue where they went.
Really fucking bizarre no one and nopony ever learned their first names. Isiet had no clue either, weirdo little lesbo horse.."

>'Shiibo' waves a discombobulated hand in front of her face, the digital parameters separating in puzzling manners.
'Yes. EMP hardening is providing marginal operation. Uplink, site-to-site, and wifi connection impossible. Saving files and backing up prior tasks.. complete, shutting down now.'
>Possibly bowing, the avatar's voice hitches in a demure, slightly spicy tone before the helmet's internal screen blanks out.
'Turn me on when you need my services, sir~'

>Eyes following you around, the Siren's body reappears, physically a bit more substantial as you sit down, sniffing towards the magical phenomena before tilting her head.
"Oh. Dul was looking inside Dul. This not bad. Dul think really bad thing happen. This.. better? Weird better? Better weird?'
>Lifting both front legs up to grasp a cloud, faux-hooves touch briefly, pushing it towards the Black Ark with a giggle, then extends each set of claws down into the floor.
'Dul ready!'

>Throwing everything of hers into the standing locker that wouldn't break, Katyal opts to leave her kit bag in it.
>Deciding between holding a bag of bottles or explosives, both are chosen, setting the first across her chest before sitting down, placing the second under her legs and wrenching the straps over her tightly.
>Gripping her tablet and squishing the alchemy bag into her chest, her eyes roll.
"Been in three crashes and only one was my fault. Does this one count?"
"No-"
"Yes-"
"I know where you live, Hodch."
"So do I."

>Setting the blade in your lap, Hodch sits back, eyes shutting tightly as he yawns.
"Ugh... that will never stop being irritating. Lonestar, is the Mess Hall foyer large enough to admit the OT-4?"
"Little busy here trying to find something we can hide behind, in, or under!"
"Answer the question, please."
"Yeah, probably! Why?"
"Merely a theoretical emergency wormhole connection to where I left a series of runes engraved with my Cutie Mark under the floorboards in the center of said foyer."
"...what?"
"Precisely."
>Reaching into a floating purple cabinet, which wasn't there before, Hodch digs around for several seconds, returning with a small Lumin plate, though a large piece of reflective black chitin scale falls out, as does a host of pegasi feathers in every color.
"I don't necessarily want to use this, but in the event of an armor breach or severe damage it.. ssssshould work. Technically doesn't have a weight limit, but we've only used them to transport boats, structures, fortifications, buildings, and the like. When they aren't moving that is."
"Please tell me that doesn't involve getting thrown around-"
"Prrrrrobably."
"That's not a yes!"
"It's the best I can tell you. ...these aren't ones I've collected. Who, what, and why?"
>Tossing the plate upwards to stick on ceiling above him, Hodch blinks at the pile several times, sniffing once, then floats it back inside the cabinet, doors shutting and vanishing.
"Of course.. thank you, Nibbles, for all the extra clutter.."
>Eyeing the decidedly incomplete weapon with a sigh, Hodch MUCH more calmly, and without ceremony, begins kneading the weapon into existence.
[1d6+19 = (3+19) = 22] <GM.Necromarecy: Blood To Lightning, Lightning As Blood
[1d6+19 = (3+19) = 22]
[1d6+19 = (2+19) = 21]
[1d6+19 = (3+19) = 22]
[1d6+16 = (3+16) = 19] <M.Enchanting, Black Anvil Imbued: Stormcover
[1d6+16 = (3+16) = 19]
[1d6+16 = (6+16) = 22]
[1d6+16 = (1+16) = 17]
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18] <GM.Casting: Conjoined Lightning
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19]
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <GM.Mysticism: Shape-The-Charge-Which-Must-Be
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]

>>390666
>>390715
>The right screen flickers on, exposing a spartan, darkly lit interview room.
>Angle pointing straight down next to a recessed lamp, the image of mid-60's male arm holding a long cigarette over a white ceramic ashtray, weathered arm propped on a new steel table.
>A young, fairly charismatic woman's voice speaks, slim hands spreading a series of mathematical covered pages out before the man.
"Your proposal has been exhaustively considered. Each calculation has been run through the best software, heuristic machine learning algorithms, and logarithmic programs available to us. It is, quote, marginally flawed, end quote."
"So, not a success then. Is my concept or the math at fault?"
>The male's voice was rough, tired; a lifelong smoker, though surprisingly sharp and quick.
"No, to both. At least, not in the ways we thought it was a failure at first. Large scale energy waveform manipulation of the intended magnitudes are, with our current and projected technological limitations within the next five years, impossible.
That is until we stumbled across a mutant quirk of variable quantum foam selection."
"Quantum what now?"
"That explanation would take hours. Here, let me show you precisely what the result looks like. Stand up, then look above the paper itself."
>A large sheet of paper moves into view of the recording, covered in familiar esoteric symbols and condensed terminology.
"My.. my head hurts, why? What is this? I didn't draw any of this, whe-"
>Chair scraping backwards, then once more as a panicked step is taken.
"The fu-"
"Calm down! Relax. That is a perfectly normal reaction! Look at the hand writing. Yes, that's it. You see it now? The whole lab did too.. at least those that didn't pass out or begin bleeding from their nostrils and ears. Do you understand the ramifications of what you discovered?"
>Sitting down heavily after five seconds, the older man sighs, ash being flicked onto floor.
"....fuck me. It's a wave motion cannon, isn't it? Just.. condensed down for an individual's use. ......my daughter loves old anime. Watched a lot of it with her before she moved away. Became a nurse."
"I understand, so does my cousin. With the proper knowledge, this could be taught to a-"
"Sufficiently trustworthy and loyal human being with sufficient inherent energetic control. I get the point. Is this why I'm being interviewed behind six inch thick one-way glass in every direction?"
"No, w-"
"Look, I drove six hours to get here, waited an hour before that bitch bothered to check something, spent another in decontamination bullshit, half an hour being poked and prodded in the dumbest looking medical lab possible, then sat here for another hour before you strolled in! Tell me what I'm doing here and why before I decide punching you is the fastest way to get out of here and go find somewhere to eat lunch!"
"....one of the facility coordinators believes you may be the perfect candidate to teach this method, to others, in the event of a relatively peaceful First Contact."
"Why didn't you say that when I asked?! I've be- ....what?"
"Here."
"What's this?"
>Sliding a small credit card into view, the woman's hand turns palm up.
"A black card. Credit and debit only. Untraceable, except by our organization. We may only make deposits, not withdrawals. Initial personal funding of five million. Later funds will not be unlimited, though should be sufficient to, hopefully, prevent you fro-"
"Betrayal is a low priority unless your organization pisses with my family, my dog, my friends, and my colleagues. What's this about First Contact, and do I have to sign an En-Dee-Ay?"
"I can assure you our organization does NOT target family members, I will show you in a minute, and that will be necessary, yes. Before you sign your name, please turn around and observe the white taped mirror."
".....are they rea-"
"Yes. They do not know we are observing them, and we are still unsure how. For each action there should be an equal and opposite reaction, but so far there are no indications of a single individual realizing they are being watched. Unless this type of event is so commonplace they do not consider it an anomaly."
"Then.... there's been no First Contact yet?"
"Correct. We were.. hoping you would select an individual to do that for us."
"......before I sign this, I've got three conditions. One: what I say gets done. No bullshit, no fuckups, no calling in sick if you aren't, no if's, no but's. How, when, why, and where, my word is absolute law."
"...they agree."
"Two: no details of this to anyone except you, the people listening, watching, or both, me, and whicever outside whichever lab techs, researchers, and science flunkies get brought in. I want to know who ate what six years ago, how they tie their shoes, and the exact number of pornographic files they've downloaded in their entire lives."
"They agree."
"Three: WHEN this technology is out of experimental stages and becomes available, my daughter gets the first production line version of each. Anonymously, of course."
"Each? I don-"
"Variable close combat weapon, pistol, rifle, shotgun, and launcher."
"How do you expect t-"
"Because I understand how to configure it into specific forms. Can't you?"
"............no, I cannot. And they agree, with one condition of their own."
"What is it?"
"The organization, through numerous cutouts, shall retain full rights to sell a line of... WHAT!?"
"Out with it."
"Er... ...stuffed.. toys. Of which you will receive a flat twenty percent royalty on."
"Done. Now take me to the closest lunch room and explain why your lab idiots were experimenting with molecular motion waves instead of my design-"
>The recording ends.

>>390711
"I can make sense of what the other me cannot. Or myself. I, me, my, self, mine, and the others.. all twenty of them. Excluding the inside idiot."
I HEARD THAT.
"Did you?"
....no.
"Good. Now find the five least dangerous routes towards nearest large translocation matrices or Warp Gates."
>Inside Wild was definitely not to be trusted with non-serious tasks.
>Poking the sheet of armor covering what should biologically be her right bicep, the previous repair tendril makes a wide and sweeping circle in air.
"Consider me notified and as of yet incapable of comprehending, mom."
>Twisting around to make a side to side shaking motion, the tendril's eye is exchanged for a quartet of mechanical pincers, clicking in a harsh metallic 'tsk' tone.
>It was mocking you, though the motion seemed to be more inside Wild's style than the logical exterior version.
"Mom... stop. Do not do this right now. Please do not continue. I have approximately one-point-eight million concerns right now and that is NOT one I want to consider so long as I exist. Replacements for me now, possible travel shortly, and zero harm caused to you forever."

>Finding some relief from the nauseating scent, the prospect of filtered air becomes more appealing than ever before.
>Even if it involved learning claustrophobia.

>Something blinks in return.
>Rather, that might have been a repurposed headlight flickering, or an odd visual inspection systems for the repair tendrils twitching, but you certainly didn't.

>Pseudo-spine straightening, then shifting back and forth at the waist, then torso, the completely missing head unit makes Wild Ride look like the victim of a horribly botched transplant.
"My limited understand of physical structure agrees with you. I do not understand why my endo-skeleton is unable to be modified, attempting traversal now-"
>Lifting her left arm, swiveling the wrist in mostly human motions, extending the elbow, retracting the same, then swinging the shoulder around, only one metallic crunch and two crinkling noises are heard.
" ...I think I have JUST discovered what a cramp means, is, and feels like."
>As if she hasn't been existentially cramping throughout her entire short, mostly miserable life.
"It feels terrible. And wrong. Progress acceptable. REPLACING left internal structures and fractured armor paneling to be safe."
[1d6+14 = (4+14) = 18] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+13 = (1+13) = 14] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17]
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19]
[1d6+20 = (3+20) = 23] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <RT-#2
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <RT-#3
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <RT-#4
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <RT-#5
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <RT-#6
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <RT-#7
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <RT-#8

"No creatures capable of willingly harming you within one thousand meters, mom. I am limiting my arrays to minimum distance settings until further notice.
Update; the unrecognized, erratic signals north-northwest of our position have ceased. There is now an ultra high wavelength, wide band frequency emitting a fast repeating triple pulse once per second. Compass direction of approximately three-one-zero. Location and distance unknown at current."
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Arcanum Sensors Array: Directional Scan
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Omni-Sensor Arrays: Directional Scan
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]

>>390288
>Ivan thought that this smith was cutely naive in that regard.
>He'll probably be able to teach him how to be a degenerate one day.
>Like how to hold hooves while sober, and before mareiage.

"What might those be, if I may ask?"
>Ivan would most likely not have to worry about it, but he was curious.
>After all, the usual ammo loadout for a STALKER could be measured in multiple kilos for each ammo type.
>Even Rookies quickly learned to have enough ammunition on them to account for half of what the usual STALKER could carry.

>Well that was weird.
>Ivan would shift to give him a better inspection of his armor.
>Nodding along, he let the images of such a process roll through his head.
"I'm a bit familiar with the process. My father... was a steelworker?"
>He looked to the side with a frown, his head suddenly hurting from trying to remember.

>Shaking his head, he turned back to the stallion.
"Might be a good idea, then."

>>390655
>Amy the younger quieted down to listen to her sire's story, it seemed such a grim and dark thing at first, but solemn expression turned to a smile, which turned to a grin as he spoke of how he met her dam.
>She would have demanded he finally explain where foals came from, but was thoroughly distracted by the head petting, her ears twitching affectionately even as she pushed her head up into the gauntleted hand.
"(´^ω^`)"

>Amethyst enjoyed watching the unusual geometry fold, stretch and compress as they moved, even though she was well used to it, there was some part of her that recognised that space was not meant to work this way.
>Though rather than being disoriented by it, she simply found it funny to look at, majestic even.
>What else was majestic was King Tachell, though not the quite serious pose he struck, but the remembered images summoned by Avernus. That was some truly majestic Kaos.
>Amy stifled a snicker, though couldn't quite replace her expression of sheer mirth with one of respect for the circumstances she was in.
>She gave up and simply let her mirth shine through in her greeting as she waved, puppeted hand stretched upwards as far as she could reach.
"Hello! Hi! Hay! >:3!"

>Casting her gaze over the Gate, she idly wondered how it had become buried like this.
>Her musing didn't last long until she too caught the sounding of the horn, head cocked and ears twitching to catch the tones, confused.
>Ears wiggle, up, down, trying to catch the noises at a better angle, though hers weren't quite as good at finding proper angles as the others.
>And that was about as much thought as she was able to put into it before finding herself lifted and hugged in an instant, sounding off in giggly shock.
"Wah!~"
>Listening to her sire's whispers, Amethyst realised that this was serious serious, and hugged back tighter, voice low.
"...I will, dad."

>>390570

>As he was about to open the door to Lann's shop, he swiftly moved to the side to not get bashed with the door
>He watches the small group head west in their search
>"They'll notify them soon enough..."
>He catches the door before it closes and walks inside the shop
>He heads straight to the back of the counter to look for the Moon Orb

>While looking through the shelves, Guillotine's voice rings through the radio
>A bit of gratification, finally he'll get some answers
*"Awesome work, wh-"*
>Clemency stops when he heard the Guillotine apologize
>Hmmm, so that small vessel can be walked into without passing out forever
>He'll make a note to see what's inside
*"It's ok, Guillotine. But a long made seat instead of a sarcophagus? Maybe to help the pilot handle maneuvers in flight? Sounds comfy right now though. Uhhh, go on."*
>Catching himself rambling from exhaustion, he stops and listens to what the Guillotine translated
>Nothing on Ninth Fleet
>Eighth Fleet recalls the ''Arena of League" to build the last of these harpy vessels on the year of 28651
>"How long ago was that?"
>The rest seems to be about these Constructed Twos, with the reference making Clemency aware of his own bonded weapon
>"Of equines whom attempted a bond towards...""
*"Is there any equines you know that successfully bonded? And does that mean, I'm the first human to bond?"*

>>390737
>Easing the spear head into a functionally useful state, Krinza removes it to place on his anvil, setting both front hooves on it to give a series of bending tests, eyes narrow humorously.
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <M.Research
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
"Complete replacement of one's clothing for an armored weave in one's preferred style and a light full body combat suit, both from Lann of course. A medium helmet making use of a composite visor, with either an integral armored gas mask or using a flush fit detachable version, and a shield if preferred.
Six to ten magazines or equivalent number of shells primary, four magazines secondary, six light explosives, one medium explosive, a custom blade, and one of the basic field trauma kits. Less than that will not be allowed.
I had been debating the creation of a standard weapon, tool, and utility package, though I find most humans have certain preferences which are best left open for pre-mission planning. Once I locate a suitable assistant or two of at least moderate expertise, improved selections will become available, not mere enhancemarents.
There are far more than enough materials stockpiled to provide all of the prior without issue, however the major concern is time and assistance. Helping Hoof is primarily focused on alchemy and chemistry, while Aiutante will be spending however much time studying as she prefers."
>Visibly pleased at progress being made, the chunky unicorn motions at the giant coldstone above him, then taps against a sequence of barely visible barriers isolating the furnace from the surrounding air.
"An occupation which would serve better from having effective safeguards, such as these. Unlike most I do not mind high temperatures, though that is due to... I am not entirely sure what, precisely."
>Runic tools floating from behind the furnace, Krinza begins to carefully shape the head into a wide leaf blade configuration, though with a short piercing spike tip.
"The process I described looks exactly how it sounds, but to be fair Minotaurs can lift nearly double their own weight with ease; the weakest Hegemony Initiates are equivalent to the strongest earth pony.
Metalworking is not merely a trade to them, it is a skill set ingrained in the psyches of most, and the best smiths are known to create outlandishly complex designs. Which are of course tested until they break, or none can be found to cause significant lasting damage. Such pieces are among the rarest however."
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <M.Elemarental Chemistry
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <GM.Enchanter
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12]
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14] <GM.Crafter
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13] <GM.Smith
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19] <Runic Anvil
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16] <Runic Engraving Blade
[1d6+12 = (3+12) = 15] <Runic Hammer

"Take your time. I am merely filling requests for specific Operator weapons right now."
>Placing the spear head back into the furnace and adjusting to a lower temperature for extended cooling, Krinza's focus remains fixed on it.
"Ah, and should you require crystal fiber adjustments, one of Naliyna's daughters should be arriving soon, or perhaps later tonight. Coraline Quell is her name. High strung, does not talk much, somewhat perfectionist, yet a professional Crystal Engineer nonetheless. Lann knows her well from Basin Village. She spends quite a bit of time there during the day, though I do not know why since batponies abhor sunlight and there are no traders."