/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>370863 →

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[YouTube] Q-Factory - Eternal Empire [Embed]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>389743

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>371364 →

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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