>If you would like to join, make a sensible loadout here at:
innawoods.net
>And if you want to bring in something special or anything not on the list, shop it in. Don't go overboard, though.
>When you're done, read over the Operator's Handbook:
https://ponepaste.org/7810
>Or the Hoofbook if you wanna be a pony:
https://ponepaste.org/7812
>Then drop a post here.
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https://ponepaste.org/user/PonyStrangler
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https://ponepaste.org/7806
>Previous Thread:
>>352263 → →
/mlpol/ - My Little Politics
85 replies | 12 files | 14 UUIDs | Page 1
35 replies and 6 files omitted.
>>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."
>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
>>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]
>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
>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
>>389725
>Heavy satchels in exchange for a diverse mix of either food or wood craftmareship
>Judging by all the matrices already in place, Marequipa pretty much had a settled supply network
>All for various foods and woods
>The big two questions to derive from this information would be what was inside the satchels and what particular qualities were sought after in what was exchanged for the unknown contents.
>But enough meandering
>José's smile brightens in tandem with Pren's own, carefully receiving her hoof with a short, gentle hold of greeting.
>Just like Rasera taught him.
<Spaneigh> "Likewise, miss Pren."
>Of course, since his hand was so close to her eye level after letting go, he boldly followed it up with a light boop on the snoot to keep things exciting.
<Spaneigh> "On the bright side, you will not need to find a Common Equestrian translator while we are together."
>A little, sly offer if the need arose before things were promptly shelved into other matters.
>Nodding along with brief vocal acknowledgements, Gallo kept a low-down, giddy smile all throughout.
>Who knows? Maybe Salinas might be her first, possibly non-Razorback friend!
<Spaneigh> "May I inquire about what the First, Second, Third and Fourth are?"
>As opportunities were tentatively raring their heads at his metaphysical request, José threw one little question her way.
<Spaneigh> "Do you happen to know what's inside the satchels I keep seeing being traded for foods and woods?"
>The term was starting to get a little catchy, he had to admit.
>Heavy satchels in exchange for a diverse mix of either food or wood craftmareship
>Judging by all the matrices already in place, Marequipa pretty much had a settled supply network
>All for various foods and woods
>The big two questions to derive from this information would be what was inside the satchels and what particular qualities were sought after in what was exchanged for the unknown contents.
>But enough meandering
>José's smile brightens in tandem with Pren's own, carefully receiving her hoof with a short, gentle hold of greeting.
>Just like Rasera taught him.
<Spaneigh> "Likewise, miss Pren."
>Of course, since his hand was so close to her eye level after letting go, he boldly followed it up with a light boop on the snoot to keep things exciting.
<Spaneigh> "On the bright side, you will not need to find a Common Equestrian translator while we are together."
>A little, sly offer if the need arose before things were promptly shelved into other matters.
>Nodding along with brief vocal acknowledgements, Gallo kept a low-down, giddy smile all throughout.
>Who knows? Maybe Salinas might be her first, possibly non-Razorback friend!
<Spaneigh> "May I inquire about what the First, Second, Third and Fourth are?"
>As opportunities were tentatively raring their heads at his metaphysical request, José threw one little question her way.
<Spaneigh> "Do you happen to know what's inside the satchels I keep seeing being traded for foods and woods?"
>The term was starting to get a little catchy, he had to admit.
>>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
>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?"
>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?"
>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.
>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."
>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.
>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.
>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.
"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."
"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.
"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
>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.
>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."
"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.
>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."
>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
>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]
>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]
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
!!5uISsUFiZo
b66104b
?
No.390342
>>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
"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.
>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.
>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?!"
>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.
>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.
>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.
>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.
>>390398
>Cheto would nod along, pursing his lips at the particular mentions of strange Coalition member behavior going on today.
>A blessing or a curse?
>Villa de Rosa might just be his next stop if he wished to find proper mareguards of any kind, then.
>José curtly bowed after Pren invited the currently unknown Ari, smiling graciously.
<Spaneigh> "My deepest thanks, miss Salinas. You've been of great help."
>And then came what looked to be an honest to Celestia human with wings for arms and claws for feet.
>Because of course.
>He could swear he's seen species like her in mythological texts back in high school!
>One singular blink, mainly to wash away his mild astonishment, before returning to his usual polite demeanor.
<Spaneigh> "Salutations, Ari-Siffel. My name's José Gallo, human male seeking knowledge, friends and opportunities amidst the new world. It is a pleasure to meet you."
>The second curt bow soon follows, sent back into uncharted social territory.
>Remember: No Assumptions.
>Cheto would nod along, pursing his lips at the particular mentions of strange Coalition member behavior going on today.
>A blessing or a curse?
>Villa de Rosa might just be his next stop if he wished to find proper mareguards of any kind, then.
>José curtly bowed after Pren invited the currently unknown Ari, smiling graciously.
<Spaneigh> "My deepest thanks, miss Salinas. You've been of great help."
>And then came what looked to be an honest to Celestia human with wings for arms and claws for feet.
>Because of course.
>He could swear he's seen species like her in mythological texts back in high school!
>One singular blink, mainly to wash away his mild astonishment, before returning to his usual polite demeanor.
<Spaneigh> "Salutations, Ari-Siffel. My name's José Gallo, human male seeking knowledge, friends and opportunities amidst the new world. It is a pleasure to meet you."
>The second curt bow soon follows, sent back into uncharted social territory.
>Remember: No Assumptions.
>>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."
>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."
>>390475
>Blinking through the quickly dissipating magic, Pren's ears wiggle merrily before nodding.
<Spaneigh> "You're welcome."
>Unshod hoof lifting and waved, the young mare swings left and breaks into a medium canter, calling over her shoulder.
<Spaneigh> "I'll be back in a few, going to check if anypony's seen the Lunars or Navarchs!"
>Light level returning to dark, the Harpy stands to full height, claws scraping as the definite female turns to face you.
>Nearly half a foot taller than you, Ari's head tilts right and down in a slow, respectful motion.
<Spaneigh> "Silfel is our clan name. There is neither Siffel nor Sillel upon this century. Annoying they were to be apart, best together they should have been."
>Wings folding onto her sides in a stately manner, the oddly contained ocean blue spheres connecting pseudoarms fade into dull black.
>Entirely motionless and seeming to study you for three seconds, the unusual crown gleams in bright gold, each of the oval gems studded throughout brightens to an acceptable dull red.
<Spaneigh> "My demand, I feel, is answered by quarters. You do not appear surprised to walk among equines of stone, nor panic upon witnessing open vulgarity of the Flows... do you be unruffled by this all?"
>Left eye squinting briefly, Ari's wings fold behind her, slightly leaning forwards with a curious aery timbre.
<Spaneigh> "Many are the answers required, I fear. Know you not of the Sovereign's distaste for outsider hu`um? If not, from where do you come, with what intentions? If so you do, why? Crashed Shoalbarge is a place for trade, not a playground of wanderers nor mercenaire."
>Blinking through the quickly dissipating magic, Pren's ears wiggle merrily before nodding.
<Spaneigh> "You're welcome."
>Unshod hoof lifting and waved, the young mare swings left and breaks into a medium canter, calling over her shoulder.
<Spaneigh> "I'll be back in a few, going to check if anypony's seen the Lunars or Navarchs!"
>Light level returning to dark, the Harpy stands to full height, claws scraping as the definite female turns to face you.
>Nearly half a foot taller than you, Ari's head tilts right and down in a slow, respectful motion.
<Spaneigh> "Silfel is our clan name. There is neither Siffel nor Sillel upon this century. Annoying they were to be apart, best together they should have been."
>Wings folding onto her sides in a stately manner, the oddly contained ocean blue spheres connecting pseudoarms fade into dull black.
>Entirely motionless and seeming to study you for three seconds, the unusual crown gleams in bright gold, each of the oval gems studded throughout brightens to an acceptable dull red.
<Spaneigh> "My demand, I feel, is answered by quarters. You do not appear surprised to walk among equines of stone, nor panic upon witnessing open vulgarity of the Flows... do you be unruffled by this all?"
>Left eye squinting briefly, Ari's wings fold behind her, slightly leaning forwards with a curious aery timbre.
<Spaneigh> "Many are the answers required, I fear. Know you not of the Sovereign's distaste for outsider hu`um? If not, from where do you come, with what intentions? If so you do, why? Crashed Shoalbarge is a place for trade, not a playground of wanderers nor mercenaire."
>>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."
>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?)
>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?
>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?
>>390344
>Yeah, definitely not Anon
>Instead, it reminded Clem of some sort of ancient ruin with the carved emerald and statue
>Since this is a sensitive place, personal research may have to be done
>It concerns Clemency greatly though, having to essentially wait for an answer of getting to this place
>But wait he would have to do
>Watching the Leadmare go, he watches the Lunars and the batponies
>He returns the nod to the Void-corrupted Lancer before also looking east
>He didn't realize it was blue hour already as he sees the sky light to a twilight
>He looks up to soak in the skyscape before bowing his head down, paying his respects to the Nightmare as he was told
>After finishing, he remembers that he was supposed to go Lann's shop
>He begins to head that direction, trying to ignore the exhaustion, figuring he can rest after getting those cases translated
>When he reaches the shop, he looks through the windows to the inside before heading in
>Yeah, definitely not Anon
>Instead, it reminded Clem of some sort of ancient ruin with the carved emerald and statue
>Since this is a sensitive place, personal research may have to be done
>It concerns Clemency greatly though, having to essentially wait for an answer of getting to this place
>But wait he would have to do
>Watching the Leadmare go, he watches the Lunars and the batponies
>He returns the nod to the Void-corrupted Lancer before also looking east
>He didn't realize it was blue hour already as he sees the sky light to a twilight
>He looks up to soak in the skyscape before bowing his head down, paying his respects to the Nightmare as he was told
>After finishing, he remembers that he was supposed to go Lann's shop
>He begins to head that direction, trying to ignore the exhaustion, figuring he can rest after getting those cases translated
>When he reaches the shop, he looks through the windows to the inside before heading in
>>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.”
>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]
>>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."*
>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.
>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.
>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."
>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]
'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
>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.)
>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
>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."
>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?"
>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?"
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