/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>ANYWAY.

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

>>390204

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[1d1000 = 287]

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

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

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

>>390604

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[1d100 = 27]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>Grim news of a complication delievered by Lonestar causes Pareidolia to stand immediately.
[YouTube] XI [Embed]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>390570

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

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

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

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