/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

everyone. i have some bad news... look at this...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IKr7bxC7W0

guys.... this is bad. 0% chance of CRYING LESBIANS this year?

that's a 100% chance of STALLIONGRAD MARE INVASION coming first... i.. i just can't do this anymore.

i've been an FOE supporter since 2012, when Kkat published the perfect fanfiction.. but this is just.. t.. too much.

i just can't take the risk. i'm s-so sorry, but... this is the end. i wish it wasn't, but... but i just knew it was too good to be.. true. this is the end of Fallout Equestria.

i used to be an FOE supporter, but after this... it looks like i'm gonna have to s... start shillin' for... Operators in Equestria.

i'm now r-r-re-ready for.. real.. Operators.....

>>93188
I hate FOE series so this is good news for me

>>93188
jews

Uhmm.. what am I looking at?

>>93198
(((Operators)))

>>93187
?

>>93197
Operators in Equestria they are an old RP group from back in the early days of /mlp/ imagine /k/ meets /mlp/ it's pretty fucking legit

>>93233
Sounds interesting.

>>93236
It is
...when our GM isn't busy tending to his horses or doing lines

>>28116624
"You did not ask and I did not think of it at the moment, so there is no apology needed Zhun."
>Tipping her head in polite dismissal towards you, the Duchess' lips set in an unsure, amusingly wavy line.
"Well... at least two hundred years ago the Underground was directly funded from Canterlot's coffers along with the College. Princess Celestia's continued eccentricities, one being the allowance of her alternate ego and the second her contempt of both Lunar and Solar aligned ponies able to mingle freely contributed to them becoming somewhat isolationist as a result. As my mother's lineage comes from Stalliongrad royalty and my father's is barely Canterlotlian, I've little knowledge of their history, but they do make some impressive creations, several of which I've purchased to aid my sculpting."
>Unfolding a pink crystalline tea set from absolutely nowhere, or so it looked like, Amerose nudges a petite cup towards you, another towards Pearl Lake, leaving a third in front of Dancing's still slack face, and peering into her own with subdued calm, the Duchess corssing her forelegs, giving you a mock devious smile.
"An easy question, I prefer those. Since Razorback arrived in Canterlot, Starborn agents have been tracking seven confirmed humans outside of Razorback in Equestria. How do I know? I know which noses to boop. Three are probably related to other factions, two are virtually unknown, one lives in Caneighdia, and the last one was reported deceased some time ago in the Empire. Princess Luna circulated an order, a no-interdiction protocol I believe, to be put into place after her sister's explosive emotional outburst at the Palace. Starborn members are not allowed to make contact with a human unless they are given explicit approval from her grace, yet if a human presents a significant enough danger towards ponies that would warrant taking direct action, they are obliged to do anything necessary to rectify the situation. If such an action has been carried out, I have not heard of it. Mind you though, it is wrong to say that the Starborn are the true elites of the Lunar faction, they are hoof-picked for noteworthy talents, skills, knowledge, and are ranked according to increasingly difficult to succeed merits. Regardless, there are more true elites, such as that very hoofsome Captain of the Honor Guard I have had my eyes on for a few years now, than there are active in Equestria. The Nightmare herself has denounced those that say otherwise, which leads me to believe that the Starborn are simply more comfortable around her despite the necromarecy and whatnot."
>Raising an eyebrow at the Lorekeeper dumping tea leaves and spices into the pot, seemingly at random, the white earth mare turns her focus back to you, nodding in a short, pleased motion.
"An astute observation. Earth ponies around her age, between fourteen and twenty, expend their grief in equal parts rage, depression, and frustration, usually all at the same time. Her Mareguards have decreased the severity of losing both her mother and and such a vaunted friend in a short span of time, yet I must repeat my warning: such a severely imbalanced mental state in an earth pony is extremely dangerous. Especially if injured."
>The Duchess and Lorekeeper glance at each other, presumably from your third question, sharing questionable ear flicks, nose wiggles, and odd eye movements.
"..why are stallions always so eager and willing to get into trouble? Does he have any idea what he's asking?"
>Amerose places the small teapot on a flat heatstone disc, cracking an amused smile before rolling her eyes at you in a mock accusatory fashion.
"I do not know the answer to either question. I am only here to identify relics, answer questions, and provide information."
>Staring down at the table for a bit as the teapot warms, Pearl Lake exhales a long, dry sigh, lifting both hooves to press into her nose.
"Blasted Crystal ponies and their neutrality.. very well. Please let it be known that while I understand this predicament, somewhat, I simply do not know how to rectify it. What I can share is that the Atrium happens to be Canterlot Underground's only known access point. It is an enclosed diamond biosphere underneath Canterlot in what was once the main flood tunnel for the entire city, though I assume by now it would be greatly expanded. It serves as a hub of operations for preservationists and florists, but most importantly it is the only meeting place for social contact dealing with the Underground as a whole, so there should always be ponies there whom would know where her primary Mareguard, Astra Galus, is. She tends to the rare or nearly extinct flora relocated there and is otherwise a fairly well known Crystal pony mercenary-botanist, and no, I do not know how that works. She specializes in restoring Moors flora and has considerable skill in alchemy, but other than these bits of information I know little. However, rumors state she is rather.. unorthodox mare as she is never seen unarmored. According to a somewhat annoying pegasus that I have the displeasure of dealing with from time to time, she may be pro-Lunar due to her affiliations in Cairn Wharf, thus she could be open to negotiations."

>>28135082
>While her hoof continues to poke at the marble underneath her, Astra's head tilts to the right curiously at the first question, her eyebrows raising.
"At the moment, this is why. We are able to communicate at reasonably comfortable levels of context and relation that are necessary to ensure civility. Ponies do not agree with the human 'need' to maintain one's ego, position, and mindset, even if not facing difficult circumstances. I am equally aware of the human needs for social contact, shelter, basic necessities, love, and more. I have come to understand the 'little white lie' as it is called, likewise the urges to maintain and improve the moods of others, the need to protect one's friends, family, even strangers, among many others. With ponies, the first is not liked but it is necessary, the second and third are basic decency."
>Lifting and waving the same hoof around in a small circle, the botanist frowns deeply, a twinge of annoyance crossing her face.
"I am well aware of human proclivities. I am also equally aware of Razorback's failures, and successes. By your own words you know the average pony's main ideological conflict with humans is merely that: conflicts based upon bias, preconcieved notions, rancor, and prior world habitation. While ponies have evolved in a manner not highly dissimiliar to humans, the basic establishment of cultures, civilizations, rules, laws, and more can be subjectively viewed that the main differences between you and I are simple matters of convenience, upbringing, and ideals. Ponies are rarely callous to the needs of others, so how does being upon another world create a responsibility in the human mind to at least be considerate, or does Razorback not have allies available to teach and guide them? Such answers will not be easy to come by."
>Ears flicking in discontent, Astra's visage becomes overtly negative as she sets her hoof down, the muscles in her jaw visibly tightening once.
"Whatever your organization could want would not be applicable here any longer. What makes your situation more difficult is that the average pony has done their best to understand the situation Razorback has, for the most part unwillingly, found itself in. I am reminded of the Canterlot royalty whom survived the Solar Tyrant's return in the Palace. What few of them survived, and were once willing to speak, can attest to the strangeness of human interactions. Nonetheless, by creating a self-isolated niche for humans, such frictions shall only continue to increase. Whether the failures of Razorback to integrate with ponies are open disrespect, a lack of foresight or leadership, an unwilling and frankly baffling resistance to self-preservation, or simple carelessness should be examined. I am not alone when I state that Equestria is beginning to look upon humans with morbid difficulty."
>Glancing past you to the armored scout vehicle, the Crystal mare pointedly lifts her nose.
"..I suggest taking your leave. I can feel my presence being demanded and I do not know how my mistress will respond to what you have shared."

>>28086883
>The white seal returns your stare by puffing it's cheeks out cutely, then snuggles back under the Mercenary Queen's bare yellow wing, managing to wave a flipper at your rearwards retreat.
>If anything, Shanis certainly had a unique taste in friends.
>Or the Dampener was kicking in multiple times.

>Uninterrupted save for the constant difficulty of navigation, upon entering the Library you find it was once again quiet, though the eerie sensation from earlier remained at the front door, your coat prickling and feathers becoming painfully stiff until reaching the stairwell in the rear.
>Standing in front of the Alchemy Lab door, two voices could be heard inside: the first, Hodch's droll, I-will-bore-ALL-the-students-to-death unicorn teaching tone in full force, the second an older, annoyed, exasperated, and potentially ready to commit a double homicide earth pony stallion.
"-ast time, you are looking for ponies that do not exist, and I am fairly certain that this is an awful joke. I am not going to help you with this inane request nor am I going to spend even more of my valuable time away from projects that are, quite frankly, life or death."
"Wipe that smug look off your face first. I came from your damned superiors in Canterlot who sent me around half the city to find you, only to learn you haven't shown up at your office in the Canterlot College for almost a year now, your Lunar friends in the Nightblade's Den couldn't tell me, and to top it all off you were the only unicorn recommended to me!"
"I'm allowed to be smug since I'm finishing a bit of research on potentially saving the life of what would otherwise be a permanently crippled human, and after that I'm thinking of cracking open a sealed casket in the grand pursuit of knowledge. Now, as for my 'superiors'? Buck them. I parted ways with the College when they decided that my spending more time with the Starborn was 'inconsiderate'. I would prefer to be comfortable among friends, not self-important faux rivals. Now, if you would please pick those damned thing off the table and leave, a pony vital to my efforts is waiting outside the door to make a delivery that will hopefully save one human's life."
>Hearing papers being crammed into something hurriedly, your nose is nearly brushed by the door slamming open, an oversized Day Guard saddlepack mostly obscuring your view of what might have been a stocky, dull white coated and teal maned earth stallion storming past you to the stairwell.
>Catching the end of a wistful sigh, Hodch's tone drops into a tired, dull inflection, followed by a curious meow.
"Come in Sunny, and yes, it's safe to sit there Nibbles. ..no? I haven't seen anything strange other than that son of a mule, a frighteningly large stack of mail from the Lunar Court, and one of the Royal Guard mares sleepwalking. I should probably have somepony go find her."

>>28171019
>Peering at Raidor with an inquisitive ear twitch, the gel Saddle Arabian shimmers as she nods, reflections of the glowstones in the pool giving her transparent body an amusing number of colors, then takes a seated position in the water.
"Manehattan? ..ah, the riverport city northwind of Stalliongrad. My knowledge of mainland Equestria is poor. You are quite far from home Captain, so business it is then."
>Examining the crates briefly, the Matron's face breaks into a pleasant expression, bowing her head in a short, firm motion, luckily without causing nausea-inducing jiggles across her body.
"Most excellent, my thanks to the both of you. Regardless, now the rest will have their own.. well, 'room' is a bit of a strange term considering-"
>Lifting a leg out of the water and rotating it in a circle to indicate the underground pool, then at herself, smiling brightly.
"How we must live now. As you can see it is rather difficult for us to, for lack of a better term, 'live' without being in constant contact with water. Fortunately as neither heat nor cold affects us negatively, and we are incapable of experiencing pain, thus why I relocated us here to take advantage of the natural hot springs. Perhaps one day we can compete with the Empire's spas, but I digress."

>>28171349
>Returning the wave with a polite, partial bow, Dayi's eyes close as she smiles merrily at you, the firmness of her unusual state at odds with the mare in the main tunnel.
>At least the vertigo from that one had finally subsided.
"I have little worry. These wonderful crates you humans have are much better as they can be sealed more easily. Our typical method to transport manabombs are within woven cloth satchels sealed by a minor Vortex rune to drain the air from inside. It is no surprise that Shanis pays fairly large sums to acquire even one. She does seem to be a sweet, if rather stiff and formal pegasus, however I am appreciative of her efforts to aid us in such short notice."
>Head tilting sideways, the shimmery mare glances you up and down once, a hoof lifting to poke at her chin, which surprisingly does not create any jiggles.
"To be quite honest I was expecting the Shieldmares and that goofy batpony, but I must say I am pleasantly surprised to see another human. When you return to Razorback, please let them know that our village stockpiles were safely recovered and delivered to our sisters in Lemongrass Tributary. Though we can no longer live as we had, give the other humans my utmost thanks for freeing us. With how little water was remaining in the well it would not have been long before whom knows what would have occurred to us. Perhaps we would have merely dried out, or perhaps worse."
>Poking her chin one last time, Matron Dayi lifts her shoulders, the motion transferring ripples into the water and causing a further series of color changes through her body.
"It is not a pleasant thought, but pay no mind. Now, since Shanis sent you both, do you wish to pick up a shipment immediately or shall I have it wait for a time?"

>>93372
"A quick visitation to Razorback has taken me somewhere... I would not have imagined. A surprising change of pace, to be honest."
>Raidor looks at the way the Matron moves her gooey hoof, and frowns slightly.
"It is a shame you are confined here. Manehattan has an entire coastline of waterfront, should you ever want to experience a different view of... living."
>The guard Captain twitches an ear at the last sentence addressed to Ivan and himself, and looks over at the human, expectedly.
"I believe we have time to bring a shipment back. What do you say, Ivan?"

>>93341
>Seals everywhere, that'd be the last time she overdoses on Dampener unless she was literally dying.
>Her previous sadness all but forgotten, Sunny fluffed her wings in an attempt to chase of the errant feeling of...
>Magic?
>Yes, magic was used here, strange magic that lingered, felt wiggly and smelt ever so faintly of fear.
>Probably had something to do with that trenchcoat wearing mare earlier
>Adjusting the load on her back, Sunny had been about to enter the Alchemy Lab when she heard voices.
>Her first instinct was to eavesdrop, not out of any particular desire to pry, but because the more she knew...
>The second, and far more respectable instinct was to wait until the conversation was done. This did leave her conveniently in place to hear every word, but she doubted any of it pertained to her personall-
>And Hodch knew she was there, she might have known.
>Stepping out of the way of the Day Guard, Sunny took care not to drop her load of Changeling carapace segments and skull plates, entering the room shortly after.
"Where do you want these, si-."
>She caught her tongue this time, she had to stop with the military courtesy
"I may have brought back more than needed, The Hive is having significant storage problems."

>>93372
>Listening to the gel pony talk, Ivan slowly nods along, debating on asking around Razorback about some of this stuff later. Or he could go read it in a book if someone wrote it down.
"We build to last, and... That doesn't exactly sound too safe. Especially if its dropped."
>Though he didn't exactly know what manabombs did, he probably didn't want to find out if it went off under his feet. He knew more than enough to know that anything with 'bomb' in the name tended to make STALKERs hurt.
"I'll certainly let them know."
>>93418
>Ivan idly remembers going to a beach once. Other than that, the swamps were the closest he's been to a large body of water before coming here. Looking over at Raidor, he shrugged and nodded.
"Sure, I don't see why not. Anything to keep out of the fortress for a bit longer."
>He hopes what he just said doesn't end up with another concussion.
also testing the posting thing out so ignore anything that shouldn't be here.

>>93339

>Pareidolia sighs heavily, picking himself back up and sealing his mask.
"I hope you understand that what I've shared is out of honesty, not ill will. There's just disagreement from human to human on what should be done."
>Opening the driver's door to the VBL, he seats himself and starts the engine. Upon determining that it operates successfully, he slowly revs it over the lip of the translocation matrix pad.
(Additional vehicle and equipment acquired. Troubling news for Razorback. New contact status remains uncertain.)
>Once the Remnant appears, he requests it take him to Razorback Fortress preferably to a point that can accommodate the vehicle.

>>93338

>Picking up the tea cup, he inspects the work of it while listening to Pearl
"Necro...marecy? And I heard about that outburst at the Palace. Really shook everything up huh?"
>Hmm...tea time I suppose
>Zhun places his cup down
"So her guards are helping her cope? And it's understandable with her feelings being strained, especially after what happened recently."
>Zhun sneaks a look over at Dancing Eyes, still seeing if she is still here or still in that trance
>"Why is she dodging the question? Hell, I could bring witnesses to prove it."
>Zhun smirks at Amerose's neutral response and it frustrating Pearl
" Well...you might have a point. I did try to see what was wrong since I saw Dancing go from the Library and half-heartedly saved another human from getting a heart attack from the group. It's fine. Hell, I don't really know how to solve it either. Maybe through talking."
>"Atrium. Flood tunnel. Plants everywhere."
"So it's a giant garden? Sounds...nice really. So this Astra, hopefully she's more friendly than our...unfortunate pony. However, she might be Lunar-friendly because of Cairn Wharf?"
>Zhun huffs but casts a playful glance to Amerose
"Maybe comparing notes might not be a bad idea."

Where does Bubba wander to now?
[diceroll]{1d6}||4[/diceroll] <Location
[diceroll]{1d6+1}||2 + 1 = 3[/diceroll] <kekeke

>>28173321
>Folding one foreleg atop the other, Cho nods at you, or perhaps past you, her eyes glinting briefly in a minor twinge of malevolence.
"Ponies of Luna not like politic Bubba, but they hate be told what do much more. Cho not have answers for them, it not easy to live normal life after be in military."
>Lifting a forehoof and waving it in farewell, the dull blood red Japoneishsian turns back to her cooking station, pots clanking together merrily as she does so.
"Come back soon, you and Razorback always welcome in Cairn!"

>Poking out of the cook mare's shack in a reasonably careful search for nearby degeneracy, the pegasus mare squad was probably long gone considering the waves of cheerful batponies crowding the long dock, most of which passed by with friendly claw waves, although a few simply paused to blink at you tremendously curious before skittering on.
>Having replaced the earlier crowds of early night time pegasi, the Moorites in view were a mix of hunters, fishers, tradesponies, and, strangely, several batponies with overly laden saddlepacks that were recognized from the attempted auction slash grand theft in Las Pegasus' Undercity that went poorly due to Serra.
>Meandering through the crowds in search of what precisely you didn't know, you eventually find your way back to the main translocation dock where an impromptu ring of what appeared to be veterans had gathered, large hats passed around for what appeared to be the first fight's bet.
>Among the prospective combatants were a trio of unusually tall batponies, all three mares, each nearly as heavily muscled as the average earth ponies in the Day Guard were.
>The first, barely visible due to her dim shade of green with an unruly long mane, was eyeing the second, a droll faced orangish-brown coated mare, were less noticeable than the third: a frustratingly bright red that wavered somewhere between neon and glowing.
>It finally dawns on you that having paid so little attention to the confusing conundrum that is the species known as batponies, the only differences you could make out besides the height differences, standing roughly a head taller than the rest, were thicker coats, longer fangs, and having the same mane colors as their coats.

>>27882477
"Don't worry about it much, the one that never takes off his mask is going to help me out too."
>Catching Naliyna's tone darkening and mentioning something derogatory about stamps, whatever that meant, the rest is lost to the Vortex Remnant dragging you through one of it's many tunnels, or perhaps something worse considering Eldritch biology, into the Crystal City-State.

>Popping into what was certainly Northwest Residential, the oldest section of the city, and the one where Ponther had met an ignomious death in the depths of a destroyed two story house.
>Surprisingly, the streets were overflowing with small crowds of Crystal ponies, either heading to a party at the early late night hour, drunkenly struggling to get back home, or trying to help somepony less smashed reach safety.

>"Tonight is not my night, that is the first update I can give you. Warden has confirmed that fur wings of Hunter-Killers have scoured the entire Industrial district thoroughly, they've not found the Ward there but are now having 'difficulties' with one of the Ethereals, a Principian he thinks. There is a report coming from the leader of Blue Reach Squad that multiple blood trails have been located three, now two, blocks north and one block east of your current position. No, I did not, hold position, wait for reinforcements, and repeat your last."
>Sounding more than a bit frustrated, Princess Cadence pauses at several crackles, making herself heard over the Warden's incomprehensible static and the choruses of cheerful drinking songs beating through your helmet a quarter of a minute later, passing another block northbound through the crowds.
>"Blue Reach leader confirming numerous crystalline fragments scattered about alongside the blood trails. The does not THINK the fragments are from a Crystal pony, but they are ill equipped and unprepared to deal with strangeness. Continue three, now two blocks north, one block east. I have another patient arriving, speak later-"

>In the distance ahead, multiple squads of Wardens, whether Imperial or Kingdom aligned you couldn't tell, had blocked off the next four streets, easily seen flickers of crystalline spears, halberds, and even a few of the extraordinarily rare twin-beamed lances held at ready towards the east.

[1d6 = 6]
<#1
[1d6 = 4]
<#2
[1d6 = 6]
<#3
[1d6 = 3]
<#4

>>27866094
>Awakened by a loud noise from a pleasant dream involving a large, pastel red wagon being pulled uphill by four-legged vampires, your eyes open to blearily process a pair of mid-thirties men in different uniforms staring down at you, both visibly expressing varying levels of humor, confidence, and a trace amount of something resembling concern.
>The first, in a spotted woodland camo, had a rather common looking pump-action shotgun slung over one shoulder that appeared nearly worn out, the second garbed in an unrecognizable, overly large brown and and grey striped uniform that was probably meant for night time use, the only visible weapon a crisply gleaming bolt-action hunting rifle of indeterminate caliber crossed over his back.
"He looks alive, but if he came from the Clinic that means Tipper had her hooves on him. I'll give him a hundred Bits he lasts the night if there were drugs involved."
"Comrade, he best be for living for I am not want to play with ghosts again."
>Turning to give the second man an incredulous stare, the first leans forwards to shake his right index finger with an angry, accusatory snarl.
"Cut that shit out man! Ghosts don't exist back on our worlds OR here!"
>Clicking his tongue once, the second stiffly shoves his hands inside the opposing sleeve, his voice openly respectful, yet vocally disagreeing.
"But colorful ponies of this world talk, yes? We see many talking and living thing in three years now, what so hard to think that ghosts here too? I say to you again, gleaming ghost with long hair knock on gate, but only Blades and I hear, so either comrade is not tune in with them or he is deaf."
>Throwing his hands up in the air, the first makes a noncommital noise of objection, then pivots back to give an exasperated sigh, reaching up to scratch at a shortly cropped crew cut.
"Yeah, like dragons and minotaurs and harpies and fuck all else I don't want to make friends with. Look here dude, if you are awake, but most importantly can move, you better head back to the Clinic for a checkup. Your bunk's about to be hot swapped and you don't wanna be here with the two sweaty jackasses that just came back from the swamps."

>>27762846
>Snorting back at your unseen grin, Ghost Jade wriggles her eyebrows in mischief.
"Trust me, most ponies look cute in socks, especially the colts. Some find them a little too attention getting for their tastes, especially in the Moors and big cities."
>Stretching her wing out in front of her nose, the gray mare watches it continue to twitch unabated, then pauses, her jaw tightening as she sets a concerned expression up at you.
"There's a slight difference between Planar abominations and.. real Abominations. If you ever run into the first you can usually run away without them being bothered by it, they're not all hostile, just the smallest, biggest, or crankiest ones. Barring that you can offer them something worthless to take their interest and they'll let you go. If you run into the second.. you'll wish you hadn't. Abominations don't tire and can't be killed by most means. At that point you'd better pray to the four goddesses that backup can arrive on time."
>Grinning and offering a nod in farewell, the pegasus lolls onto her side, legs stretching out with a relieved sigh.
"Don't worry about me, I woke up great. You just worry about not running into that creepy mare again."
>Making your way to the workshop guided by ever helpful signs, written in English and multiple languages that were beginning to hurt your head, and the all knowing descriptive icons of what each building is, you pass by a hardened steel building halfway into the ground, six sets of crudely put together antennae on top.
>Sitting in front of the only entrance on the north side was a rough looking half-bird, half-cat being in difficult to see deep blue body armor of an obviously medieval make, the armored tail waving back and forth.
>Beak clicking together, presumably in boredom, the catbird seemed oblivious to everything but you walking by, lifting an armored paw in greeting.
>The trip was losing focus, it seemed.
>Reaching the workshop once more, it was empty this time save for the sounds of sewing from the opposite corner, Krinza's voice calling out towards the door.
"Come in, I am not busy. However, if you are a mercenary seeking to rent a hoof shovel, the answer is no, I do not have any on hoof nor am I going to make one."

>>96662
>That endless dream felt like it lasted an eternity. Maybe it did. But he sure as shit wasn't sure what the hell these two were going on about, or how long he was out for.

"Tipper...? Oh, yeah... That's the doc, right?"

>Rubbing his head he shut his eyes again, doing his best to clear his head and figure out what was going on.

"Tipper gave me something... Strong as hell. Something for portal sickness. I've never tried drugs before, now I sure as hell won't try drugs ever."

>Shakily he tried to stand, steadying himself against a bunk.

"Is it bad to be scared to go back to that mare and ask her to check me again? I don't want another trip through the Kubrick Wormhole to watch myself die and be reborn."

>A few unsure steps as equilibrium returned. Finally getting his bearings, he started walking toward the Clinic in search of Tipper to confirm he was stable and wouldn't be suffering any more horrific side effects from chasing crazy horses wistfully through portals all day.

>Allowing their horns to cool off, the cadre of healers, save for the lightning obsessed one, face each other to groan in unison, the lead cracking a merry yet dubiously harsh grin.
"Learn to appreciate humor for once in your lives you punless nags, that was an excellent joke."
>Ignoring the despondent grumbles, the lead mare eyes the see-through bag of fluid curiously, then turns to eye the unicorn currently gawking at, and through, Tipper's spell into Snakebite's upper legs.
"If every healer in Equestria could do this.. I will calculate the highest probability of correctional setting."
>Lifting a forehoof and carefully placing it on the first suture, a brief, cool pulse resonates in the air off the lead mare's horn, her snout scrunching in thought.
[1d6 = 6]
<M.Casting: Viral Analysis
"Based on previous analysis the liquification of his exterior tissues occurred somewhat above the boiling point of water. Only a few Tallus bacterium are able to survive beyond exposures of one hundred and thirty degrees. Those that can are native to the swamps and marshes of the Moors, the lowland jungles and rain forests of Saddle Arabia, the deep rain forests of Zebraica, and a couple other regions that are highly unlikely to have been visited. Those that could have survived at the current time would be Otherworldly or Planar, and I do not sense either. That is not a perfect guarantee, but I suspect there is a less than a zero-point-two percent chance of bacterial infection. Viral will be known soon though I have severe doubts on that due to lacking open wounds."
>Sitting back on her haunches, the assigned mare's eyes shut momentarily, opening to visibly wince, her front hooves rubbing together slowly.
"Sorry to say, but this one's definitely in my top ten worst cases. Six years of treating combat injuries and each one makes me wish I'd chosen the Alchemy Division. Short order: there's a few collapses besides the greenstick fractures, microfractures haven't quite compounded other fractures enough to warrant complete kanpri banding so I'd prefer using strands for precision alignment. Standard tractioning methods would cause further damage, but there is an upside: the damage is heavily localized over individual surfaces so the five of us will be able to mareually set and infuse each individual fracture between relocating marrow tissue. The down side is that he's going to need a consistent, rigid diet of easily digestible proteins, fats, lipids, minerals, amino acids, and vitamin complexes to recover. My overall medical opinion: his injuries are worse than they look and we need to operate immediately."
>Swiveling to make a professional sounding noise approximating that of a medical pony whom knew what she was doing, almost but not quite a soft neigh in fact, the lead mare's nostrils turn up triumphantly, gesturing at six long red lines traced on Snakebite's upper legs.
"Most excellent, then so we shall. Well, not excellent as in his lack of injuries, but excellent as in he is recoverable. The incisions are marked Doctor, but if you would prefer I have jade, obsidian, whitesteel, and diamondine surgical blades in my pack should you wish to use them over yours."

>>93418
>Lifting her eyebrows in silent acknowledgement, the Matron tips her head from side to side, visibly expressing distaste.
"To that I heartily agree. Visiting Tartarus Isle was eye opening to us all.. save for many overeager questions and requests to taste."
>Brushing her chin carefully with the semi-firm gel hoof, the mare's eyes squint humorously.
"I would not say we are confined, Captain. Though apt, it is more for our collective sanity at the moment, yet I will keep your offer at the forefront of my thoughts."

>>94015
>Rocking her hoof back and forth in the same motion a human does when they're waving something off, Dayi emits a quiet snort.
"Of course it is unsafe. We Saddle Arabians willingly live in striking distance of great danger, half to prove ourselves worthy to our ancestors. The other half is laziness, like any good pony out there, but I do appreciate such sturdy containers. Should Razorback be willing to sell some, and thusly deprive Shanis of her hoarding tendencies, I will most certainly buy them at a fair market price."
>Dipping her head in confirmation, the gel-mare's face brightens with a slight, acknowledging smile.
"As thanks, should the opportunity present itself I shall do my best to convince Lemongrass Village to sell a few manabombs per month to Razorback, if that pleases you."

>Lifting both hooves out of the water and clopping them together, the sound something like a wet blanket being slapped, the Matron's chest expands comically as she takes in a deep breath, then releases a barely heard string of whistles towards the tunnel leading upwards.
>Listening for a set of faint replies, Dayi rolls her eyes with some difficulty, then submerges herself in the water until only her head remains above the surface, her ears flicking in gratitude.
"My thanks to the both of you once more. Return to Est above, there will be two satchels of alchemical reagents for Shanis. It is a complex and difficult task for any of us to transport much more than a few pounds, that is aside from storing very light items inside our bodies. The idea is highly uncomfortable to the others, you see. But I digress again, you may leave as you will."

>>93992
>Sprawled onto his side in the middle of an obviously new and highly plush chair, one that was probably meant for the average young minotaur instead of a unicorn, Hodch's head lifts, blinking at you slowly over a haphazardly repaired pink journal, pieces of tape covering most of the exterior.
>Sitting in the middle of the alchemy table was a dim green coated house cat, two bright yellow eyes staring at you in equal parts puzzlement, curiosity, and sleepiness.
>More precisely: it was a Moor cat, the shiny, leathery wings on it's sides ruffling the fur around them.
>Probably not a hallucination, though why was he talking to it?
>Meowing again, the Starborn snorts to himself, or perhaps at your near-slip, then lifts a hoof as you enter in the traditional, and amusing, unicorn motion for 'whatever you like'.
"I also doubt she'd like that, so no. Also, every time you say that from now on I'm going to pay you to stop. This time you get away with it, the next, you won't."
>Placing the journal down in front of him, the deep purple unicorn's eyebrows furrow together upon sighting the three chitin pieces.
>Holding the expression for a heartbeat, the unicorn's eyes roll, free hoof reaching up to rub the side of his head, speaking dimly, half at himself, half at you.
"Storage problems are the least of their worries. Last time Vanil was there he mentioned as much. Hmm.. one to save a life, one to potentially experiment on another with, and maybe even figure out how Changelings created the di-isolation cascade bands. Probably a safer option considering the sheer number of resonances that such Otherworldly bipeds have, though if he has an aberrant electromagnetic field or is suffering from electromagical stasis in conjunction with his injuries.."
>Shutting up at a huff, a purr, then a droll meow from the Moorcat, Hodch lets out a tired sigh as his horn pulses with a dim red glow, the earlier energetic tone probably having been faked, each of the Changeling plates lifted off and set next to the Moor cat.
"Please don't remind me, the Queen hasn't forgotten about the aphrodisiacs I 'neglected to mention', or rather forgot about being issued to the Knights. I'll worry about the little problems later, however, I will make sure Denra is on hoof in case of rejection. Then again most humans barely even register on the psionic scale. It's a wonder that we can even perform mental contact with them du-"
>Cut off by the Moor cat snicker-hissing quietly and flapping it's wings once, the unicorn stares up at the ceiling with a minor, amused shake of his head, his tone having finally reached pleasant status.
"I was about to say as much and no, I don't think she understands your language either. Thank you Miss Feathers. I've known Misel for years now, she's a bit odd considering her chosen profession. Misel is however irreplaceable as she is one of the more composed Changelings. Essentially her name means 'Myself-as-easel' from what I understand of Changeling language, which is not much, which partially explains why she has a tendency to paint herself. Did she have anything else to deliver?"

>>96685
>Sunny found herself curious as to what the cat was talking about, but promptly thought better of it.
>Best not to know.
>Sunny merely stood still and allowed Hodch to voice his thoughts, she had zero comprehension as to what he was talking about.
>The magical sciences were best left to the unicorns who could actually make use of the knowledge.
>Meanwhile her face contorted somewhat at the string of unintelligible jargon.
>The mare could do little more than watch the exchange between the stallion and the winged cat, not even really understanding the half of the conversation she could hear.
>Let alone guess at what events they were referring to, though like earlier, she did not think she wanted to know.
>'Myself-as-easel'? The mare wondered if other Changeling names followed these conventions of shortening phrases into single words.
"She had a series of letters as you said she would."
>Reaching her wing back to rummage through her saddlebag, she (somehow) procured them from their depths with a level of prehensility that really should not be possible.
>Nevertheless, the letters were presented in a stack upon her outstretched wing towards Hodch.
"Along with contracts from Queen Chrysalis, research for miss Tipper to do on Changeling cores and a list of targets for, uh... Removal. Among others that I haven't read through."
>Twitching one of her ears to the side in a thoughtful gesture, Sunny continued.
"The Hive has accepted your request, forty Changelings are to be stationed here until the Marquis returns, they have their own supplies, all they need is some space."

>>94129
"I do. That only proves the Councilierge's suspicions of humans were correct. Yet, I still believe Princess Celestia's initial plan was better."
>Rocking forwards to stand, the Crystal mercenary pushes the door open, taking several steps towards it, then stops, turning her head to smile chillingly.
"It is a shame that it shall never see the night, or day."
>Half-prancing through the entrance, the door slams closed after the mare.

>Finding the set of keys in the most obvious location, carelessly dangling from the visor, the Panhard cranks over in loud protest numerous times before finally starting, indicating it had sat untouched for quite some time.
>One of the Vortex eyes raises from the translocation stone, widening into a granite arch, though with one difference: the immediate view displayed was on the south side of the garage facing the double vehicle doors.
>Enveloping the VBL and immediately dropping it into the open space where the Ride normally sat, the odd gateway sinks down out of sight, and immediately shouting occurs, Krinza's easily identifiable voice followed by an angry mare that you hadn't heard before.

>>94521
>Briefly sharing raised eyebrows at each other, Amerose and the Duchess lift their shoulders at the same time, the second inhaling loudly through her nostrils while staring upwards, the look a distinct 'I can't believe this is happening'.
"I cannot believe Princess Celestia's language spell functions so poorly for humans. Lorekeeper, can you please explain?"
"Of course. Zhun, necromarecy is the proper term for the following capabilities and acts: interacting with Spectrals, speaking with ghosts or Revenants, summoning undead or Spectrals, binding undead or Spectrals, unbinding the same, as well as causing or curing spiritual afflictions, harming or healing the ka, or soul as you humans call it, of a living being, and a number of others that are lesser known."
>Bringing her head down to nod, Pearl Lake's lips quirk in an unrecognized motion, then waves a forehoof in a small circle.
"Correct, however I suspect that she is now at, or has passed, a tipping point, hence my warnings to you."
>Amerose leans over to stick her face in Dancing's vision, using her nose to boop the psion's once, then leans back to frown at the teapot warming quickly.
"I do not doubt she cannot remember what may have happened between them. There are approximately eleven Eldritch-classed enchantments which are capable of rendering a psion, especially a primal psion such as her, incapable of recall for a time, erasing memory for a few minutes, and the like. They have an equal number of negative effects, the most common of which being intense spikes of fear, unease, and nausea within a limited range. Judging by your explanations, I believe the mare in question has two or three such enchantments bound to her. As such, I must advise zero contact."
>Ears flicking in agreement at the Crystal mare, the Duchess swings about to hold her cup out, Amerose carefully filling it with a sweetly scented, steaming portion.
"I am unsure if a conservatory filled with all manners of rare, endangered, extinct, and potentially to-be-extinct flora, some of which are likely toxic, others directly hostile, and a rare few that are worse, could be considered nice, but yes. As for the botanist herself, she is affiliated with Cairn Wharf due to the number of oceanic vegetation that washes to shore, such as sea pumpkins and blue-striped kelp, both of which are considered delicacies, as well as large numbers of plants in the local bogs, marshes, swamps, and inlets that do not grow elsewhere. I am unfamiliar with the location itself save for the knowledge that it exists, is frequented by many of the smaller Ferron clan offshoots, regional batponies across the Moors, and a small number of... what are those ponies called again?"
>Pausing to poke at her chin, Amerose fills her own cup, then yours while the non-psion earth mare sighs.
"I do not know."
>Returning the glance with an equally humored ear wiggle, Amerose lifts her cup with both forehooves, daintily sniffing at the steam.
"You should bring a gift when negotiating. Crystal ponies, such as myself, Naliyna, or her rather large family, have certain protocols when it comes to appeasing another over a difficult event. Earth ponies, unfortunately-"
>Accentuated by squinting her eyes in what was slowly looking to become concern at Dancing Eyes, still mentally shut down in shock, or something else entirely.
"Are entirely problematic when it comes to forgiving the acts of another. Injuries are rarely forgotten, however."

>>96670
"Bueno. One less thing to worry, like foreign infections, to ruin all of our hard work."
>Casting aside side-drabble, Carlos removes the leg tractors and nods under his mask. He sagely soaks in the mares' information, as they were getting ready to put Snakebite under the knife once again.
[1d6+4 = 6]
<M.Research: Surgical Analysis
[1d6+4 = 8]

[1d6+4 = 6]

[1d6+4 = 5]

>Juan Carlos ponders the lead mare's offer for a second, before agreeing with her suggestion.
"Si, break them out. We'll need every advantage against the patient's new... hmm. Dermal layering."
>As the lead mare goes for her array of surgical tools, Carlos once again preps the incision areas with more antiseptic. New clean gloves come on, and the doctor looks over his varying selection of offered tools. He picks out a diamondine blade, adjusts the overhead lamp onto the incision marks, and set out additional retractors and gauze to soak up blood.
"This one should do nicely."
>Steadying his hand over the first set of dotted lines, Carlos begins his end of the surgery.
"Making first incision."
[1d6+4 = 10]
<M.Physician
[1d6+4 = 5]

[1d6+4 = 8]

[1d6+4 = 8]

[1d6+4 = 7]

[1d6+4 = 8]

[1d6+4 = 8]

[1d6+4 = 8]
<Lead Mare's Surgical Tool Set
[1d6+3 = 5]
<Juan's Surgical Tool Set
[1d6+15 = 19]
<Clinic Supplies
[1d6+20 = 25]
<Surgical Suite

>>96677
>Ivan listens to her, letting out a bit of a chuckle at that.
"Yeah, I definitely know what living next to danger is like. Though it's through stubbornness for me and my people, not laziness."
>At all hours of the day Ivan used to hear gunfire SOMEWHERE nearby in the Zone, no matter where he was. He thought for a moment, before shrugging.
"I think we could arrange something like that, if you want. Though I'm pretty sure you'd want someone with more experience in this place's currency to do it instead of me."
>Giving the gelpony a nod, Ivan walked over to the entrance and waited for Raidor, nodding for the pony to take the lead.

>>96643
>Realizing you didn't have a watch on hand, nor was there one on a hoof in view, it felt like you might have been in the restaurant for more than a little while, but certainly not a long time.
>Having an internal sense of time that wasn't helpful had definitely become a weakness.

>Eyeing the leagues of batponies and the few pegasi in sight for one that looked sturdy enough to sit on, the only ones that might have been able to bear your weight were the three odd mares, none certainly looked to be that friendly, at least at the moment.
>Ringing the translocation pad side of the dock were cut off tree stumps with small sticks poked into the outer ring facing the ocean, probably intended for ponies to sleep on without falling in.
>Noting one that looked comfortable enough height wise, by the time you manage to sit down, a happy blue and green striped batmare, obviously painted, stops in front of you, barely holding the collection hat up with both sets of wingclaws, visibly straining from the weight.
"Hello there, care to bet on who wins the first round? The odds I'm offering are two-to-one against Rest, the red one, or three-to-one on Soft-Kill, the weird orangey kinda one."

>>96664
>The second man nods in the positive to your first question, and before he can speak, he's cut off by the first making a disgruntled half-sigh, half-groan.
"Tipsy, Tipper, whatever her name is, she's a weird horned horse that can't be truste-"
>Bringing a fist up, the Soviet second intentionally whiffs his punch, forcing the other to take a step back, hands in the air.
"Okay, okay! I give, all right?!"
"You shut mouth, let me speak, da?"
>Sniffing in disregard, the Soviet, or whatever he was, turns on heel to you, a calculating expression on his worn face.
"Nay comrade, or perhaps is neigh now, one never know right word here, 'tis lack of knowing small equine with better judgement than you for to run into warp gate many time. When get sick once from warping, you make sure never do again. Learn fast or else comrade."
>Placing his hands in his sleeves once more, the man lifts his shoulders in a weighty motion.
"No. There no other Doctor here, only medic, nurse, and strange pony that sell drink of healing most no like. If Doctor say to take drug, you take, or you not do well. She have good mind, judgement for treat sick and wounded. You put all trust on her and she help you, but if you not trust her.. you wake in place no human dare go. It not fun."
>Stepping aside to let you wobbily through the door, the second man beams a wide, potentially helpful smile, shutting the door as you leave.
"If you not reborn yet, then you will soon."

>Walking through the barrack building, there was an unusual chill in the air that you couldn't quite figure out.
>Whether it was from a quartet of humans in woodland camo all seated on one couch in the middle of what seemed to be a den, each staring over a hand of cards as you pass by, or the pastel neon pink winged pony on the opposite side dropping her own cards, an expression of sheer awe contorting her face.
>Strange.

>Exiting the barracks and turning south to the barely familiar looking Clinic, the chill becomes ever more noticeable.
>Reaching the only door to the building on the south and entering, seated in the receiving doctor's chair was a clash to your senses: an incredibly vivid carnelian colored pony, the mane half-garnet, half-aquamarine.
>Swiveling the lounge chair to face you, the mare's lightly glowing carnelian eyes, softly edged five pointed stars, blink once, twice, then widen rapidly.
>Both ears twitch spastically as the mare stiffly lifts a forehoof and points it at you, opening her mouth to speak in a an accusatory, young voice, one that somehow blurred the line between sensual, charming, and composed.
"You will go to the closest bed, remove the blanket, and cover yourself with it! Towels do NOT count as clothing human, and degenerate activities are not allowed in the Clinic, do I make myself clear?!"

>>96903
>Bubba debates on the pros and cons of finding a watch out here that'll actually fit him while he searches for a place to sit back. Once doing so, and moving over to it, he looks down at the mare who seemed to materialize out of thin air.
>While Bubba wasn't a betting man by any means, he didn't have much else to do at the moment aside from going back to Razorback, so he decided to humor the mare.
"Ten bits on Rest winning."
>As he put the bits into her bulging past the brim hat, he took a glance around at the batponies.
>"Definitely going to need to research these guys better."

>>96669
"Fast little thing, ain't it..."
>Clem mumbled as he spied on the silver vessel continuing its travel into the mothership
>Clem noted that the mothership itself is formidable
>Orbital cannons, for self-defense or bombardment from orbit
>"Has there been an incident of Construct bombings?"
>He then spies the mothership spewing out orange dots, soon covering the entire vessel
>Clem then truly begins to think to himself, inavertantly mumbling the words
>"Who here really knows about these Constructs? I feel like this is unprecedented."
>Clem begins to get his notes and jot down his observations of the construct ship, notable its cannons and behaviors, and the silver vessel
>More importantly to remember the ship better
>He then begins to head for the Library, to search for anything on past incidents with Constructs

>>96677
>>96888
>Raidor nods in agreement with Ivan, and looks over to the Matron as she dissolves into the pool.
"Then it appears we have time to make a delivery back to Shanis."
>The captain bows slightly to their hostess before turning and taking the lead out back the way they came.
"Come Ivan, so we can return to Razorback."

>>96866

>Relieved to finally have returned to the compound, Pareidolia shuts off the engine and steps out to open the rear door.
>Carefully hefting the crate containing the Empire microscope, he carries it with him as he makes his way into the workshop proper.
(An argument? Something substantial? Morale and resources stretched thin enough as it is. Will need to inquire as to Celestia's original plan involving the original Razorback squad...)

>He ponders this as he looks around the workshop for the source of the shouting.

>>96757
>Pushing all three plates off the chair onto the floor, the Nightblade pushes himself up into a lazy sitting position and pulling the stack into his nose with a brief flicker of light.
"At least she doesn't jot down a page for every little piece of news like the moron writers in the Lunar Court."
>Phasing each letter out to quickly skim through, the left hoof lifts to rub as his chin, Hodch physically turns to face you with a relieved smile at the information, his eyebrows furrowing together upon passing over the official contracts.
"Was wondering when Shanis would finally make her way to the Hive. Then again she's been acting rather passive lately. I'm a bit surprised at the Queen asking Razorback for help, as a rule she tends to take care of problems quickly enough. Some work for Tipper in a new direction? She'd appreciate that at least, but.."
>Trailing off, notes of hesitance enter Hodch's voice, glancing with concern.
"Queen Chrysalis is not known for half-measures, Miss Feathers. This isn't an assassination list, it is, and I immediately quote, believe this is a who's who of ponies with direct ties to the Councilierge. No, I don't mean just in Canterlot, I mean the entirely of Equestria. There's a few on here that Fankil and myslef cleared. This could be monumental."
>Pausing at the last bit of news, the stallion's nose twitches in thought, then his ears suddenly raise, flicking incredulously and shouting aloud as he bolts upright, tone caught between alarm, anger, and confusion.
"HOW MANY CHANGELINGS!?"
>Snapping his teeth together in the customary earth pony motion, the unicorn's gaze snaps right to give the Moor cat a furious stare.
"Nibbles, which of those idiots talked to Roust?!"
>The feline's face twists in a surprisingly pony-like semblance of pain, lifting both paws to cover it's nose with a loud, audibly pained moan of despair.
"Well SOMEpony had to have convinced her otherwise it wouldn't be ten times the number, now would it! I asked for only four Changelings as a temporary measure should problems like three humans returning severely injured and one going missing along with their vehicle occurring, not four entire squads!"
>Grimacing at the despondent mew, the Starborn carefully shifts himself off the chair, gazing over to the Moor cat slumped onto her face staring at the table, and finally turns his head about to give you a barely coherent stare, accompanied by a haggard sigh.
"Forget it Nibbles, you'll be fine. Miss Feathers, in the interest of honesty it is my professional opinion that you should take the rest of the night off. I would also recommend you prepare yourself to give sworn, factual testimony to the Lunar Council that I and an associate will shortly commit a minimum of three and a potential maximum of who even cares at this point how many extraordinarily illegal acts involving the arcane abuses of necromarecy, a wholly unauthorized use of virgin pinksteel, several banned relics of criminally dubious origins, and an untested but potentially working theory of Changeling bio-transference. I'll take care of the contracts, you just.. do whatever."
>Lifting a hoof in solemn farewell, Hodch snags the three plates to float above his head, nudging the door open and skidding out with a derisive snort.
"If I'm lucky they'll force me to live on the Moon's surface for the rest of my soon-to-be extremely short life, won't that make them happy.""

>>97111
>The pegasus simply stood there, mind wandering as Hodch went over the letters, only partially paying attention.
>Much of this wasn't anything she was familiar with beyond rumours and hearsay. Names she didn't recognise, ponies she wasn't too familiar with, political factions and their associated dramas.
>The mare had found herself preoccupied with the simmering of the alchemy station along the wall, planning her next alchemy experiment when Hodch's shout caused her to jump a little
"Huh?!"
>Too many Changelings? That's a strange problem to have.
"I'm sure you'll find a use for them. Who knows, it might lift some spirits having that many of them tumbling around."
>She reacted very little to being told of the questionable legality of what the unicorn intended to make of the skull plates she'd delivered. The mare thought the law could be tossed out of a window if the reasons were good enough, and saving lives was always a good reason.
>Sunny did not like the idea of being brought before a court to testify, however, scowling a little at the idea.
"I heard nothing, saw nothing, I wasn't here and I most certainly have no idea who this Hodch pony is anyway."
>'Do whatever', wasn't that what she'd been doing all night? Playing the part of a courier for most of the night didn't strike her as actual work. She'd find something else to do, after she finished fiddling with her potions.
>She waved a wing idly at Hodch in farewell before moving to the alchemy station.

>The binding agent was ready, possessing the maximum of three philiac chains that would attach to any potion mixed into it, allowing different mixtures to act in conjunction.
>She only intended to add the two she had already prepared, but who could really tell what the future held. She may find herself mixing something else in it later.
>The mare gave a side look to the flower that treant pony had gifted her earlier.
>It'd be a shame to destroy it for use in the potion, but perhaps she didn't need to, the pollen itself was rather potent on its own and the flower had a multitude of petals.
>She could use one, maybe.
>Sunny set to work, just a little excited at the prospect of finishing her project. Considering the odd properties the separate mixtures had taken on when completed, she really had no idea what to expect of the finished product.

650/999

[1d6+3 = 5]
< E. Alchemy
[1d6+3 = 4]

[1d6+3 = 4]

[1d6+6 = 11]
< Alchemy Lab

[1d6+4 = 10]
< Harlon's Archaic Diamond Alembic
[1d6+4 = 8]
< Harlon's Archaic Granite Condenser
[1d6+4 = 6]
< Harlon's Archaic Kanpri Calcinator
[1d6+4 = 7]
< Harlon's Archaic Steel Dry-Press
[1d6+4 = 7]
< Harlon's Archaic White Marble Retort
[1d6+4 = 6]
< Harlon's Archaic Whitesteel Mortar & Pestle

1/10

[1d6+3 = 7]
< E. Alchemy
[1d6+3 = 5]

[1d6+3 = 5]

[1d6+6 = 7]
< Alchemy Lab

[1d6+4 = 5]
< Harlon's Archaic Diamond Alembic
[1d6+4 = 5]
< Harlon's Archaic Granite Condenser
[1d6+4 = 10]
< Harlon's Archaic Kanpri Calcinator
[1d6+4 = 8]
< Harlon's Archaic Steel Dry-Press
[1d6+4 = 7]
< Harlon's Archaic White Marble Retort
[1d6+4 = 10]
< Harlon's Archaic Whitesteel Mortar & Pestle

2/10

>With the mixture almost at completion, Sunny carefully scraped a sample of the treant pony flower's pollen with the tip of her hoofboot's blade
>Adding it to the pestle along with a single petal delicately cut from the flower, she crushed and mixed the materials into a fine powder.
>Whatever was in it, it was strong, the scent alone was overpowering and enough to make her head spin a little, even without ingesting it.
>Part of her didn't want to risk ruining the potion by potentially making it hallucinogenic.
>Another part of her would regret not adding it after preparing the powder.
>Even as she thought about not doing it, her hooves and wings had already set to work mixing the powder into a small amount of highly energetic, long lasting fluids.
>Sunny just hoped the potion wouldn't incapacitate the imbiber if it became necessary to use it in a high risk area.

[1d6+3 = 8]
< E. Alchemy
[1d6+3 = 9]

[1d6+3 = 5]

[1d6+6 = 10]
< Alchemy Lab

[1d6+4 = 10]
< Harlon's Archaic Diamond Alembic
[1d6+4 = 8]
< Harlon's Archaic Granite Condenser
[1d6+4 = 9]
< Harlon's Archaic Kanpri Calcinator
[1d6+4 = 7]
< Harlon's Archaic Steel Dry-Press
[1d6+4 = 7]
< Harlon's Archaic White Marble Retort
[1d6+4 = 9]
< Harlon's Archaic Whitesteel Mortar & Pestle

3/10

>>97201
>Almost there, some minor slip ups were causing a setback, but this potion was inevitable.
>The pieces were in place, it was time for Sunny to make her move.
>Both her regeneration potion and her restoration potions had been strained and concentrated with their unique properties intact.
>A separate, temporary container held the potent additive created from powder derived from the treant pony's flower.
>The binding agent stood ready to accept the potions and its final ingredient.
>The healing energies present in even the separated mixtures was almost tangible.
>Dancing lights from the Regeneration mixture danced about wildly, near alive itself while the light cast from the Restoration mixture seemed intensified.
>Sunny's excitement welled, but was tempered with a sense of calm, hours of work and experimentation were about to come together. Years of learning the ways of alchemy, and time spent learning the more mystical aspects from a Zebra shaman were about to coalesce into the pegasus mare's crowning achievement.

800/999

[1d6+3 = 7]
< E. Alchemy
[1d6+3 = 7]

[1d6+3 = 7]

[1d6+6 = 7]
< Alchemy Lab

[1d6+4 = 6]
< Harlon's Archaic Diamond Alembic
[1d6+4 = 9]
< Harlon's Archaic Granite Condenser
[1d6+4 = 8]
< Harlon's Archaic Kanpri Calcinator
[1d6+4 = 6]
< Harlon's Archaic Steel Dry-Press
[1d6+4 = 7]
< Harlon's Archaic White Marble Retort
[1d6+4 = 7]
< Harlon's Archaic Whitesteel Mortar & Pestle

4/10

[1d6+3 = 8]
< E. Alchemy
[1d6+3 = 8]

[1d6+3 = 5]

[1d6+6 = 12]
< Alchemy Lab

[1d6+4 = 9]
< Harlon's Archaic Diamond Alembic
[1d6+4 = 10]
< Harlon's Archaic Granite Condenser
[1d6+4 = 7]
< Harlon's Archaic Kanpri Calcinator
[1d6+4 = 9]
< Harlon's Archaic Steel Dry-Press
[1d6+4 = 8]
< Harlon's Archaic White Marble Retort
[1d6+4 = 8]
< Harlon's Archaic Whitesteel Mortar & Pestle

5/10

>>97205

>The potion itself was complete, the mixtures combining through the binding agent to become something greater than they could have been on their own.
>And yet, Sunny knew there was something missing, the potion would serve, but it was missing something vital.
>The light the mixture was casting off fell upon the pollen imbued liquid, casting a dark shadow behind it.
>Sunny knew the potion itself wasn't intelligent, that would be silly, but it contained too much of herself to say it wasn't alive and knew what it needed to be complete.
>Her blood, her tears, one of her feathers, certain /other/ fluids, and a heatstone ring worn by a primal psion.
>There was no way she could be certain, but Sunny had perhaps bound a piece of her own soul into the potion.
>As it was, it was like looking at a small fire, the heat it cast off was similarly like that of a fire.
>It was complete, but there was one final thing to add.
>One final effort was all that remained.

999/???

[1d6+3 = 7]
< E. Alchemy
[1d6+3 = 4]

[1d6+3 = 5]

[1d6+6 = 8]
< Alchemy Lab

[1d6+4 = 8]
< Harlon's Archaic Diamond Alembic
[1d6+4 = 9]
< Harlon's Archaic Granite Condenser
[1d6+4 = 5]
< Harlon's Archaic Kanpri Calcinator
[1d6+4 = 8]
< Harlon's Archaic Steel Dry-Press
[1d6+4 = 9]
< Harlon's Archaic White Marble Retort
[1d6+4 = 9]
< Harlon's Archaic Whitesteel Mortar & Pestle

6/10

>Just as the last drop of liquid pollen entered the clear crystal container, the mixture began to glow brighter and burn hotter, searing her eye.
>With a burst of light and a cloud of yellow gold tinted steam, Sunny scrambled and fell on her back as it quickly filled the room, yelling out as the light was blinding.
>It cast every shadow from the room, and even a decent few from outside as it pierced the windows.
>Still blinded, Sunny felt her way towards the Alchemy lab's window, coughing and pushing it open to let the steam escape out into the night.
>It wasn't that it was bad, in fact breathing it in felt soothing, like a healing potion its own, but there was too much of it.
>The light the potion cast off began to dissipate as the steam dispersed from the room.
>Sunny blinked spots from her eyes looking back at the desk, fearing she had destroyed the potion entirely.
>What she found instead was the clear crystal bottle, filled with a bright, highly animated golden yellow fluid.
>The finished potion sat there, seemingly placated that it had received its final ingredient.
>For the time being that is.
>The mare moved over to it wordlessly and stoppered it. It was bright, it was warm, it burned as she held it, but not a destructive burn.
>It was light in a bottle, not quite the light of the sun or the flame, but perhaps the light of the soul, of life. Sunny's in particular.
>And what was life but the capacity to heal?
>Cradling it carefully, the pegasus considered what she had done.
"My Aestus Flask..."

"DAMN!"
>the knight slams his fist onto the table, sending chess pieces flying
>the large Minotaur demon across from him leans back in his bone throne, laughing hard enough to shake dust from the obsidian ceiling above
"How is it that you ALWAYS win?!"
>the knight exclaims, thrusting a plated finger towards the imposing creature, his face twisting into a grimace filled with suspicion
>the horned being chuckles this time, leaning forward and placing both elbows on the proportionally tiny table between them, his long, crocodile-like maw cracking into a devious smile
["Well, good sir knight, while I surely must commend you in respect to your guts, where it concerns your wits, you leave much to be desired!"]
"And pray tell what thou might mean?!"
>the demon's grin widens even more, his long, black tongue wagging with his words
["Why, old friend, if you must ask me this question, it would mean, to me, that even were I to tell you, you may never understand."]
>the knight leans back in his chair, hand grasping at his beard, lost in thought for a moment, before a sudden spark of realization washes over his face, extending one finger in the air and opening his mouth to speak
"AHA! I hath derived the answer!"
>the demon leans forwards once more, both hands holding up his long chin in a coy, but patient gesture
["Yes? And what has this dutiful mortal pieced together just now?"]
>the knight makes a wide, dramatic, sweeping gesture with his hand, ending with his arm and index finger fully extended straight at the demon, his metal digit nearly brushing the creature's oddly-shaped nose
>his intense gaze now fixed upon the creature, the knight boldly proclaims
"THOU ART MOCKING ME!"
>Andrammelech releases a raucous sigh of indignation, contemplating his cruel fate aloud
["Oh, woe is me, to be trapped in here with one so dull!"]

Back outside the wind blew against Adons furry friend fondly, giving a hint to its actual bodily outline. It leaned forward on the edge of his shoulder to point towards where the Order presumably was, and between here and there was a mountain the Chiqtu had escaped from.

>>98014
>The Witcher tracks the little Chiqtu's paw toward the mountain its been so fixated on.
"There it is. Just a bit of a walk, now."
>Adon routes the quickest path out of the gryphon town and toward their destination, the snow and wind doing much help for his traveling speed.
"I have to ask, is what Taurom said about that armor increasing your intelligence true? Need to know what you want to do, when it comes time to remove it."

>>96656

>"Huh, so this is where he died...oh that reminds me, need to visit his grave after this is done." He thought as he weaved between the throngs of party going ponies to continue his search.
>Hearing that the Industrial District was cleared gave Lont some relief, meant the search area was smaller then. Though his new-found optimism deflated a tad when he heard of an Ethereal being a bully towards the Batponies that were helping the Crystal ponies that they were allies of. "Bad to hear from your end but good that the Industrial District can be written off." Spying the Warden squads cordoning off the streets he asked. "Can it be ascertained from the blood trail where she is going, is there a Matrice or certain building they are leading towards?"

>With a new lead Lont gunned Northeast, visualizing a map in his head so to follow the directions and reach where the fresh blood lay. While doing so he still kept an eye out on the groups of ponies he past by, just in case the target tried to sneak past. "By the way, as a Ward shouldn't she be able to heal herself and thus stop the bleeding?"

[1d6+4 = 7]
E.Driving
[1d6+4 = 7]

[1d6+4 = 7]

[1d6 = 4]
E.Perception
[1d6 = 3]

[1d6 = 4]

[1d6+1 = 4]
>H.E

>>98385
>Looking over the militia outpost, Adon thinks over his options for a moment.
>The guards could've seen the unicorn pass by, but the Aanfang gryphons hate the Order and would have chased him at the very least he figured.
>Seeing as it couldn't hurt to ask, Adon walks into the middle of the open militia camp and addresses all of the disinterested gryphons in earshot of him.
"I'm looking for a unicorn of the Order, that might be taking shelter at the adjacent mountain. Would any of you know of their whereabouts?"
>The Witcher repeats the question, in Gryphonic, and scans the militia members for any responses.

>>99373

>Moving towards the closet group Adon saw that they did not budge from the highly animated fire they huddled around. It was quite cold yes, and he might not be the first human they've seen either.
>As he came to a stop in front of the them the Witchers' Medallion vibrated hard, the presence of magic quite focused on this flock.

>Whether the wind or his question, the Gryphons collective plumage bristled, one of them eventually, probably their leader with how armoured they were, spoke up.
"Haven't seen any friendly unicorns, or ponies for that matter, inna while. All of them coming here trying to get into the Vale, idiots."
>She said in perfect Common, even with you addressing her in Gryphonic.
"Why you asking?"
>The Chiqtu on your shoulder folded into its self for warmth, or to lower its profile.

>>101049
>Adon takes notice of his medallion reacting to the group of gryphons and sets his curiosity aside, assuming they had an enchanter or sorcerer amongst them.
>After his general inquiry, the Witcher focuses on an armored female gryphon who addressed him and motions to his perched companion on his shoulder.
>He was going to be a bit of a jerk and claim 'Witcher business', but he ultimately knew no one here would take such an authoritative threat seriously. So he decided to be honest.
"I'm looking into it, after helping Taurom with something in her warehouse. Me and this little guy are heading for one that put him in this enchanted armor, to get it removed. Tell me, would you happen to know what members of the Order are usually like in general?"

>>101572

>Adons words got a few beaks and eyes turning towards him, curiosity driving them. The Gryhponess tilted her head in confusion, staring at Adon then the suited Chiqtu then back to him again.
"What...?"
>Rubbing her feathered forehead with a wing she concentrated.
"Alright, whatever, too hungry to care. Besides you did business with Taurom so eh."
>Stepping aside from in front of the Witcher she used the same wing to point out to the expansive mountain range beyond Anfangs walls.
"Past these mountains lay the Orders state, a whole country of angry limp-dicked ponies with outrageous egos. Well, more so than usual compared other equines.-"
>That will jab got a few chuckles from her comrades.
"-If you're looking to find somepony in that shithole good luck, they'll impale you before you even knew what hit ya. Happened to the last human, and he only survived because he was better armoured and had a Greccian too."

Bump

Bump

>>93187
UwU whats this?

>>96867
"Hmmm..."
>"She'll be stubborn and I need to find a gift? It's really is like back home."
>Zhun looks at the stream of tea fill his cup, inhaling the aroma and mentally try to discern the type of tea
"Still means you do have protocols."
>"Maybe find a plant for her. Something nice."
>Zhun shifts his eyes over to Dancing Eyes
"She's going to be fine right? Seems like I stressed her or something."

>>105481
>The female gryphon points toward the mountain range, Adon cracking a smirk at the gryphons' collective insult to ponies in general. It really didn't take him much to understand differences between the two species.
"So definitely not hospitable, good to know. Luckily, I only need to find one on top of a mountain. Thanks for the insight."
>Adon gives the gryphoness a curt nod, and to her compatriots as well.
"I should get going. Want to try and get back before nightfall."
>The Witcher cuts back through the camp and back onto their previous path towards the mountain, motioning the Chiqtu on his shoulder.
"Back on track, you. Lead the way."

>>150864
Blitzkrieg who?

>>153590

"Uh huh, right. Good luck with whatever human."
>She flicked a wing to Adon then returned to her spot at the fire, only to caw and smack some other Gryphon out of her spot.
>Once outside Anfang the Witcher saw there was a snow covered channel leading to a steep drop off that he surely could climb, with smaller rocky paths that cracked away into the jagged sides of the bordering mountains nearby.
>Prompted, the Chiqtu jumped off Adons shoulder, making a shaped hole in the 1ft of snow. Head sticking up and out of its new snow den, the fluffy creature pointed towards a set of mountains off in the distance beyond the drop off. Within those several mountains was one that had a light blue hue to it, coincidentally it was the largest too.
>The Chiqtu pointed directly at that one, and Adon read it to be at least a several hour hike through harsh terrain.

>>155142
>Adon leaves the militia camp, having gained a bit of insight on this Order that he might be crossing paths with.
>Hopefully he'd only have to deal with one of them.
>On top of a mountain.
>He can certainly handle that, even in his weakened state.
>The Witcher watches the chiqtu dive into the knee-deep snow, and point toward one mountain with a blue glow on top of it.
>At least he had warm clothes on. Looks like he's going to be trudging along for this little creature for a bit longer.
"Onwards then. Lead the way."

>>156667
>Travel time tended to drift when he took long trips, especially when he'd go into a trance on horseback.
>Almost like he'd pick a spot on a map and instantly warp to it.
>Damn, he missed Scorpio…
>He and his companion finally found themselves at the base of a forest, leading to the mountain range to their destination.
>Being shown the only way was through said forest, Adon creases a side of his face and presses forward with his furry little travel buddy.
[1d6 = 2]
<B.Perception
[1d6 = 2]

>>163579
"Come on, where are you going?"
>Something definitely had the small creature's attention, and he's cursing himself he didn't pick up at all.
>Adon keeps up with his little armored pal through the forest.
>Which was very bleakly empty, but not surprising.
>An empty forest was usually a bad sign. Usually meant something dangerous was inhabiting the area.
>Or it was just desolate.
>Until the Chiqtu stops and points at signs of a campfire, as well as voices around it.
"Slowly…"
>Adon hasn't tried it, yet, but he's heard there's a magic here that can turn one invisible if one concentrated enough.
>So the witcher focuses on being as quiet as possible, try to 'feel' not being visible.
[1d6 = 3]
<U.Stealth
>And slowly rounds the smoke, from a safe distance to observe.
[1d6 = 2]
<B.Perception
[1d6 = 4]

>>96888
>Eliciting a murmured snicker from the gel-pony, Dayi's ears roll about in wide, merry farewell motions.
"Any such containers will be most useful if we must be transported elsewhere once more, and do not worry, I shall ensure proper payment for even one."

>>97102
"Do be careful Captain, Tartarus is a little too welcoming to those of high stations."
>Making a short, humored incline of her head in Raidor's direction, dull glows spread throughout the stone pool, the Matron likely having tired from maintaining a compact physical form.

>Trudging up the tunnel back to the T-junction, Est was nowhere to be seen, and thankfully nor were there any more eye-straining, hard to understand gel ponies in attendance.
>Atop the desk laid a pair of small green satchels, thin strips of woven roots tying off the tops, along with a single paper placed between them.

>>96957
>Doodling in the notebook until everything looked about right, the feed from the miniature satellite returns to the original wide focus while the information scrolling across the screen ceases, the reduced threat level causing most of its offensive functions to go on standby.
>Climbing down the Tower, you're mildly interrupted by an unusual number of Tartarus armored mercenaries flitting around the Tower heading north towards the wall, though none of them were familiar or even paused to greet you.

>Reaching the Library unmolested, it seemed closed down for the night as there was no activity besides a few large lantern gems still producing a pleasant mixture of soft red, purple, and blue lighting, perfect to read by.
>Searching through the historical shelves of the C section leads to finding a recently written index card with the word 'Construct' directing you to the relatively empty lower R section where a large, unmistakable orange sphere had been placed in the center along with another card: 'The Rift'.
>Scanning the titles sorted out on Rift Construct history, the selection was noticeably small:
'A Solar Historian's Guide to Rift Construct Invasions'
'Lunar Military Findings: Construct Model Types & Designations Circa 29,940'
>Amusingly, this volume was 58 years old, and was probably a bit outdated by now.
'On Constructs: Close Combat Weapon Studies Volume 1'
'On Constructs: Ranged Weaponry Studies Volume 1'
'The Rift: Incursion Facts & Probable Theories'
'Therrost Lisle Harpy Translations, the Isle of Wind Conflict'

>Next to the few historical volumes was a long list of book titles, written in Spiral's unmistakable, impeccable Common Equestrian.

>>96929
"Ten on Rest, twenty if she wins, forty if she takes first round, but the hat splits if she goes for a double!"
>Flashing a fruit-eater's smile while the hat sinks just that tiny bit lower in her claws, the bookie bat turns her head slightly to peer at the three odd mares facing each other.
"Somepony from the Arena said those are Dusk Striders like the mare that started a shop here. I dunno if it's true but they're sure pulling a crowd. Gotta go though, more bets to take!"
>Snickering gleefully, the painted mare scurries back into the crowd, disappearing with that annoying ease of blending in that every batpony was required to have.

>The crowd's noise level settles into a low pitched hum of whispers, aside from an errant snicker or kek here and there, and immediately the trio of unusual batponies blur together inside the impromptu circle.
>For the first time tonight, the entire Cairn goes silent, not one of the hundreds of ponies moving, instead focused on the flashes of large white fangs, colored hooves pounding into flesh, trios of wingclaws whistling through air, and thin streaks of blood jetting into the air, the unexpectedly rapid onslaught of violence stunning to behold.
[1d6 = 5]
<Rest
[1d6 = 4]
<Soft-Kill
[1d6 = 5]
<?????

>>97109
>Upon stepping out of the Panhard, the unmistakable crunch and sensation of small loose rock occurs under your boots, ending a few feet from the vehicle.
>That was definitely odd.

>Easily narrowing the location down to somewhere near Krinza's furnace, the unseen argument, definitely in unicorn due to the aery notes, ceases as the grandmaster smith's tone shifts from enraged to mildly angry, afterwards followed by what could be a blade scraping across metal.
"Whomever is responsible for turning that entire section of flooring into gravel had best get Bren in here to repair it quickly, but as for y-"
>Cut off by the mare's haughty voice resounding from underneath what was once Spiral's cluttered notebook table, and above, a large, stainless steel revolver and what suspiciously appeared to be a black F2000 were visibly pointed down over the edge.
>Barely a moment after the mare's sentence, a stack of unfinished weapons, ranging from common combat knives to an unusually large axe head, are lifted by a yellow glow, Krinza shouting once more.
"You have been taking extraordinarily difficult to acquire materials without asking or replacing them! Had you done either before now I would not consider throwing you in a furnace!"

>>198018
>Pareidolia pauses in the doorway as the exchange continues. He looks at the gravel beneath the Panhard then back to the floating array of weapons brandished between the two.
[That explains the change... Is that my weapon?]
>He slowly sets his box down while peering under Spiral's table to identify this mystery mare.
[Always another issue. Another miscommunication. More human derived strife. Tiring.]

>>164075
>Looking over his faint outline, Adon wrinkles his brow at the apparent magic working. But he had heard it working far better than this. The form completely invisible, footsteps virtually silent. He decides to double down on his attempts, to make himself even more unnoticeable.
[1d6 = 2]
<U.Stealth

>As he stops his approach of the group by the bonfire to observe each one, he thinks over their appearance. Two gryphons, a unicorn, and... he guesses that's what a minotaur looked like. Hulking beast of a creature; he hopes he didn't have to try and fight it. Could the unicorn possibly be the one he was looking for? If they were of this so-called Order, their armor didn't look the part. What they were doing with other creatures herded, he didn't know.
>Before Adon can think on the subject any more his little friend tugged at his pants, and he obliged with a low whispering tone.
"What is it? Is that the unicorn?"

>>198005
>Leading Ivan back up to the desk at the intersection, Raidor looks at the pair of satchels along with the note.
"This must be the package Dayi mentioned. We should check the note, first, just to be sure."
>Before he even touches the satchels, Raidor eyes the note and looks over its context.

>>198085
>>198005
>Taking one of the satchels up in his hand, Ivan idly nodded as he felt the weight inside.
"Of course. I'll let you do that, since I'm still not up to par with reading your language."
>Strapping the satchel around his torso, Ivan glanced around before waiting on Raidor to continue.

>>198288
>Damn, guess he still wasn't doing it right. A layer of translucency lifted from his arm, and shook it to try and get it to take. But no avail. The Witcher tries again, trying his damnedest to concentrate.
[1d6 = 2]
<U.Stealth

>Looking down at the Chiqtu, and back at the unicorn, it was clear it wasn't the one that had performed the spell on his little companion. Which was good since he didn't want to get into a confrontation with two gryphons, and that hulking minotaur as well.
>But its worried look toward the bound gryphons and ponies was what had Adon interested the most. Adon furrowed his snow-speckled brow, contemplating.
>It was a witcher's doctrine to stick to the contract he was given, and not get involved with any internal or political matters of the world around him.
>Adon whispers back at the Chiqtu, somewhat sternly.
"It's not our place. You want that armor off, right?"
>The Witcher looks back over at the supposed captors, squinting in eyes in thought. Monsters come in all forms.
"If I go over there and find out why that group's tied up, I can give you a signal if it's fine to free them. Then I'll leave it up to you to decide. Sound fair?"
>He looks back over at his white furry friend and unsheathes his trophy knife to hold it handle-first to the little creature.

>>198297

>Tried as he might, Adon could not delve deeper into the Underdark like he did so before, still leaving himself in this new shallowness.

>Looking up at the Witcher.
>Then down at the armour on its small body.
>Then the group of captives on the other side of the fire.
>And then the small sword, the Chiqtu thought for a moment, rubbing its chin with a paw in a very human mannerism. Then nodded.
>Grabbing the glorified nail the little furball sunk into the snow, digging under its surface and from what Adon could tell tunnel in the direction of the prisoners.
>Well, that was as best an answer to be expected from something that could not talk.

[1d6+3 = 7]
>B.Stealth
[1d6+3 = 8]

>>198491
>As the Chiqtu takes his knife and tunnels its way toward the prisoners, Adon utters under his breathe as it disappears under the snow.
'Shit, I didn't give it a signal too look for...'
>Figuring it'll end up freeing the captives either way, the Witcher figures he should at least hold up his end of his own bargain and draw the captor's attention to him.
>Standing up tall from his kneeling position, Adon concentrated on dropping whatever invisible spell he managed to conjure and crossed his arms in a chilly hunch as he began intentionally shuffles loudly through the snow and toward the four around the fire.
>He waits to catch their attention before he gives them a shivering wave in greeting from a safe distance.
"Hello there. Mind if a cold witcher warms up his bones for a while? I won't be any trouble."

>>97201
>>97205
>>97208
>Somehow managing to completely miss the despondent Moor cat lying down in the alchemy table's center, the feline snaps its teeth at you, wings flapping once to propel it rearwards over the edge with a long, angry hiss.
>Even without knowing the language, the brief exchange sounded rather threatening.

>Roused from the stunning wonder you'd finished, the Alchemy Lab's door opens, heavy hoofboots slowly thumping in.
"Going to be occupied much longer? I have orders for sixty or so items to be completed before dawn."
>Trodding directly past towards the window, the voice's owner, obviously in the stages of early sleep deprivation, belonged to a mid-fifties Crystal mare clad in the standard Imperial Warden General's armor, helmet included, the flexible crystalline plating unusually scuffed.
>Lifting a foreleg to close the window, the mare turns about to face you with a mildly amused expression, her nose twitching curiously at the alchemical scents still lingering in the Lab.
"Normally when something blows up I'd expect more bodies."

>>97613
>Interrupting the next exchange between you and the demon, an audible pop fills the room with tiny threads of bright pink, followed by the disembodied voice of an older mare.
"Dull is better than overconfident at the least."
>Threads whirling about briefly, the bare outline of a pegasus takes shape next to the table, a single bright pink wingblade in the elongated shape of a tanto burning brightly as the mare gives the room several seconds of study.
"If this what a human's mind looks like on the inside.. well, allow me to introduce myself first."
>Lifting a foreleg in a passable salute before setting it down, the mare's head tilts left several inches before chuckling.
"Chief Alchemist Gale Ironmane of the Starborn, at your very temporary service. I was getting a bite to eat when somepony asked whether or not they should bury the dead human. Color me surprised to find a human with a.."
>Pausing to stare in what was most likely bafflement at Andra, the mare shrugs, then turns to frown at you.
"Whatever you are. Still, you aren't dead so you won't be buried. The only question I have is what exactly happened to you?"

>>98383
(I cannot speak any longer, there are more patients arriving-)
>Easily sliding through the swarms of Crystal ponies without running into one, the Outrider's engine noise helping to provide enough warning, an irritated mental noise is given in regards to the first question, immediately followed by a grim, flickering image of pegasi strewn across an overfilled medical ward.
(Lont, I am BUSY! There are at least fifty patients still waiting and I have received no word from the Regimental healers! Just find and kill her!)
>Receiving an angered noise, the Princess' mental link to you is severed.

>Speeding by the first cordon of Wardens, what little you had time to spot was comprised of probably a hundred Kingdom Knights, their ostensibly superior weapons coupled with full helmets giving away their allegiance.
>None of the Knights turn in your direction, instead remaining locked in close defensive ranks standing guard at both crossing alleys.
>The second cordon was much the same save for being solely composed of Halberdiers; mixed in with the southern's ranks were two visibly taller and helmetless Knights, the first with a shortly cut, multicolor red streaked mane, the second having a long, annoyingly neon blue-green mane.
>Unlike the first two cordons, the third was a visible scene of very recent carnage: barely three ranks of visibly bloodied Lancers, Halberdiers, and a few Guardians faced into the east and west alleys, some missing large sections of armor plating, while several pockets of presumably wounded Wardens south of the alley entrances were undergoing frantic treatment from red robed healers.
>Adding to the grim scene were the bodies of perhaps forty recently slain Wardens scattered in front of the alley entrances, scores of empty bottles, bandage wraps, and chunks of crystal plate were strewn across the road.
>As you motor by it was apparent that the Crystal pony healers had been involved in the conflict as well, their normal Lorekeeper like robes stained red, each bearing large numbers of unusually ragged, small blade-like wounds, and of course, fervently disregarding their injuries in favor of saving their kin.

>Up ahead, the fourth alley intersection cordon was entirely blocked off as hundreds of Defenders, Crusaders, and even Crystal Shieldmares were in the process of visibly retreating backwards in a highly compact formation.
>Beyond them you could make out bare flashes of ethereal pinks and blues, though it was impossible to hear anything over the crystalline hoofboots ahead.

>>148877
>Mostly identifying it as a black tea, the various herbal scents were much too exotic to pick out, though you had to question whether or not there was any sugar added.
>Knowing ponies, it was probably sweeter than you would prefer.

>Succeeding in a monumental effort not to sigh, the Duchess instead twists her lips into a flat line, her forehooves clopping together in that unnerving, leg contorting pony manner.
"Of course we do, but keep in mind that this is a, to put this most delicately, situation in which protocol has been shoved into a vase and bucked off a rather tall cliff. I do not know anywhere near enough to make even a single suggestion of how to attempt reconciliation. In any circumstance, were this my priority and not being excessively questioned as to events occurring in Stalliongrad which I have no care for, this matter is well outside my knowledge. After all, an unknown quantity is also of an unknown quality."
>Amerose leans forward to wave a hoof in front of the earth mare's eyes, sitting back to lift her shoulders in a helpless motion.
"I am no doctor, but I believe she will recover.. eventually."
>The Lorekeeper emits a single, most unprofessional chuckle, then immediately begins straightening her robe while failing to hide a spreading grin.
>Visibly making the attempt not to roll her eyes, and purposefully failing, Pearl Lake gingerly lifts her teacup for a sip, her eyebrows raising in a peculiar manner.
"Mmm, I quite like this, thank you. Well, since my temporary captor and questioner is out of commission, I suppose I should return to my estate. Then again.. there is the matter of a Solar agent spying on me that I should probably deal with, and a rather large amount of damage done to my mansion. Whom should I speak to regarding this?"

>>198030
>The sound goes unnoticed while Krinza and the mare continue arguing back and forth in unicorn, the level of potential violence continuing to escalate as more weapons from around the Workshop are lifted in muted yellow tones.

>Under the table was... definitely a pony, though with a decided non-equine clothing style: a recently scrubbed, wide brimmed leather hat reminiscent of ancient inquisitors, distinctively of human make, covered the mare's head and neck, a few strands of unkempt dull gold mane slipping out from underneath it.
>Covering the rest of the mare's body was a positively medieval styled brown leather coat covered in fairly recent scratches and small blade marks, the type worn by lesser nobility in ages long past, though it had been reinforced judging by small imprint lines on her flanks.
>Likewise unusual, the mare's splotchy orange hooves were covered in dirt and bore several fractures, droplets of blood scattered underneath the table.

>The harangue ends abruptly as the mare's head snaps around, the hat dislodging to reveal a visibly spiraling horn amidst an unkempt mane.
>Bright yellow eyes narrow upon spotting you, then widen briefly in malice, the unicorn turning back to contemptuously snarl at Krinza.
"Fine, then I will ask this one to test my theory! If I am right then I will repay you eventually, but if I am wrong then you will simply have to bake me!"

>>199158
'Definitely got their attention...'
>As they all rise to low readies, Adon observes their defensiveness. They were already beginning to flank them, as he raised his hands submissively.
"Not a witch, name's close though. Just a monster hunter. I got turned around tracking a contract into this forest. Just looking to get my bearings, and I'll be on my way."
>Peeking over at the captives, the Chitqu was ready and in position to cut their anchor.
"Quite a haul, you guys have there. Be willing to part with one, for a price?"
>It was at least one way to deduce their value to the captors, at least. If they're captive by law or war, they won't be given up so easily with money.

>>198085
>Written in rather sloppy Common Equestrian, which was considerably better to Raidor's eyes than having to look at either Est or Dayi, the page listed a number of unusual ingredients:
-1 ounce fine granite powder
-1 ounce fine marble powder
-1 ounce fine limestone powder
-1 ounce ultra fine Imeron sand
>A rather puzzling addition to the Manehattan Captain considering the fact that anypony wanting to take sand from the rather normal Saddle Arabian outpost was always allowed.
-2 ounces of Sweet Burial powder
>This one Raidor knew to be a banned substance in Cloudsdale, although the circumstances behind the ban were lost in speculation.
-3 ounces ultra fine Electrum powder
>Knowing a bit of Alchemy, Raidor immediately realizes that the weird alchemical mixture of 1% platinum, 20% gold, and 79% silver was only utilized in extraordinarily complex elixirs hoofcrafted by the four alicorns.
-4 ounces dried and minced Kelbracht root
>Yet another substance that Raidor had come into contact with, it was, according to the Lunar faction's envoy from the Citadel, somehow related to the illegal Red Salt trade that a few ponies from Las Pegasus had owned for the past few years; the flow of highly addictive Red Salt had ceased once Lucky turned her attention elsewhere.
-6 ounces raw powdered Veton mushroom
>Another alchemical staple long considered the best ingredient for binding multiple antiparasitic compounds together, even if the few earth ponies that harvested it in the Lower Dragonspine Mountains were quite loathe to share where it grew naturally.
-11 ounces uncut Ripthorn slices (dried)
>One of the many New Everfree species of flora necessary for a large variety healing elixirs that was considered on the decline due to overharvesting, even if the oppressively secret Canterlot Underground routinely sold large amounts of it.
-20 ounces ultra fine Jet Thorn Leaf powder, dried and powdered
>As if the list wasn't suspicious enough, Jet Thorn Leaf was the main ingredient of Adrenaline Surge, one of the most common combat stimulants used by mercenaries across Tallus; while it wasn't banned by any faction Raidor knew, both the Lunars and Solars discouraged its use.
-25 ounces Neighctschten Root, sun dried
>Once a Germaneighan specialty, it was now being grown all across Equestria due to being considered by alchemists to be the most potent for producing Regeneration elixirs, it was currently being demanded by the ton throughout the Crystal Empire.

>>198157
>Upon touching the satchels, you noted the contents were assuredly of strange natures due to their odd, artifact like feel.
>Of course, since radiation didn't exist on Tallus, you had to remind yourself that the strange, stimulating tinges were due to magic... of some type.
>Not that you were familiar with magic outside of a few exploratory experiences, only that whatever was in the satchels was indeed related to magic, or was magical, in some fashion.
>The Zone was a really odd teacher, now that you think about it.

>Continued from:
https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/27863765/#q27873777

>Registering numerous minor injuries and a small number of deceased to her Lance, the unnamed Lieutenant immediately dismisses the worst injured into the Foalguard.
"Continue on, we've no time to mourn their deaths!"
>Roust's mood blackens as her grasp of the situation and it's wholly unwelcome circumstances becoming immediately clear to her, the mental connection to you strained to it's absolute peak between her constantly changing orders to the Foalguard.
(This is neither a dream nor a nightmare Dante, we do not have the luxury of support available! Were I any more jaded I would think this to be a nightmare rivaling that of assaulting Sombra! No matter how much I am desiring this to not occur, it WILL end in a twisted reenactment of Silver's last stand against the four Princesses, only this time we might as well be the Empress of Ruin herself!)
>Focusing on the Vigilites rushing back towards the Mausoleum, the Changeling Vanguard bristles, her thoughts quickly breaking from their odd actions in favor of detailing orders to the sparse few psions and alchemists under her command.
(Earth ponies, mend the wounds of your kin before this worsens, we will need every iota of energy to survive this! Shieldmares, form ranks around the translocation matrices, all non-combatants must escape soon or this plan fails before it can even begin!)
[1d6+3 = 9]

[1d6+3 = 7]
<B.Recovery, weakened due to prior Operation
[1d6+5 = 11]
<Psion Healers
[1d6+9 = 11]
<Earth Pony Alchemists

>Diverting your attention from the nearly enraged Changeling, five more Support Strikers file into your retinue from their silent march into Stalliongrad's Main Square, the mares accept your order to bombard the Phantasm Knight far ahead.
>A pair of massive silver lances at least the size of a school bus form, one from the Lieutenant's unit, the second from the Strikers themselves; driven by the sheer desperation of the Second Dynasty, twinned sonic explosions occur overhead, the half-real projectiles translating from etheric space into reality directly at the Phantasm Knight.
[1d6+60 = 63]

[1d6+60 = 64]

>Far ahead, Aura's colossal immaterial blade carves into the ranks of traitor Watch Guard, twenty-nine earth ponies instantly falling dead to the unknown weapon's capabilities, and begins swinging horizontally towards the remaining earth ponies desperately trying to land even a single blow against him, or her.
[1d6+50 = 54]
<Phantasm Blade
[1d6+50 = 52]

>Following the lethal exchange, a bright white glow envelopes the Phantasm Knight's blade, multiple detonations of obscene, raw psionic energies tearing into realspace, fractures of space-time destroying Stalliongrad's connections to other spectrums and planes of existence.
[1d+30] <Grandmaster Crusade
[1d+30]
[1d+30]
[1d+30]
[1d+30]
[1d+30]

>Before the Second Dynasty can balk at the interruption, the voice of a formerly feared Councilierge member brings itself to bear with an enraged scream reverberating across Stalliongrad's Main Square.
"We're not going to suffer your presence in our city, Aura! We've had enough of you to last three lifetimes, so stay still like the worthless stallion you are and bleed for me!"
>A name briefly coalesces through the Second Dynasty's shared thoughts: Tactician Elwood, former Councilierge member, number 9, one of the four primal psion mares outside of the Empress' lineage... and without question the least mentally stable of that tiny number.

>Setting aside the potentially troublesome interruption, the Second Dynasty's thoughts are rewarded by another 395 ponies of Stalliongrad joining the overherd, Knight-General Brokenhoof delivering a calm mental command to increase speed and close ranks, her own unit and that of the Stalliongrad Lieutenant's now marching barrel to flank.
(Two hundred and sixty meters to contact, charge the front ranks while they're distracted!)
[1d6+2 = 7]
<Forced Trot
>Raising the Standard of the Watch high above her, Broken Hoof's fury sets the minds of all combatants within the Second Dynasty's overherd alight with contempt.
"VICTORY OR DEATH FOR OUR HONOR AND THE SOLAR PRINCE!"
[1d6 = 3]
<Blessing: Victory or Death

>Reporting back a single message from the Foalguard, that being 'safe to enter', the translocation matrices currently dragged along by the mercenary cadres open into large multi-hued silver spheres, the non-combatant earth ponies immediately rushing into them in single file, foals, the young, and mares first.

>Barely within the renewed conflict amongst Stalliongrad's ranks, Master-Lieutenant Stone Crest's squad of Moderatis Lancers turn on Captain Stranded Wave and his ponial retinue, the well equipped heavy lancers ploughing into the unprepared Watch Guard with gleeful abandon.
[1d6+7 = 13]

>vs:
[1d6+2 = 7]

>Well within the Second Dynasty's collective sight, Primus Wandering Steps and her elite Tarusian Crest Regiment, a holdover from the early Tower Guard, crash into Councilierge Brute Kantred's private guard from behind, the otherwise implacable earth pony prepared for the treacherous earth ponies assaulting his hoofpicked unit of elite Shieldmares.
[1d6+9 = 11]

>vs:
[1d6+8 = 14]

>Well behind the Second Dynasty's three Formations, Denra and his entourage of high class psions finish their work, chunks of pavement, stone from walkways, and even torn apart buildings piled together, the unicorn's mental voice morosely questioning reality itself at their combined act of willfully defying against the greater overherd.
[1d6 = 4]
<Grand Golem Creation: Stalliongrad's Defiance

(Centurion Cliff Flank nearing the Main Square, reinforced by Light Lancer Squadron Nineteen-)
(Three mixed squads of Watch Guard behind the Centurion, total number of enemies on approach numbering around twenty thousand, if we don't leave right bloody now this'll be a damned draveyard!)
(The Vigilites have left Stalliongrad? What the hay are they doing!?)

>>199190
[1d6+30 = 36]
<Grandmaster Crusade
[1d6+30 = 31]

[1d6+30 = 33]

[1d6+30 = 31]

[1d6+30 = 31]

[1d6+30 = 35]

>>199190
>That's... a lot of events that have happened that I have no idea about.
(I know, I know. At this point all I want is for everyone that can possibly make it out alive to do so. If that happens to include me, so be it. Just...let Pella know about it if I do fall, alright?)
>Not that I plan on dying.
>No time to dwell on that, there's more important things to focus on.
>Like the massive silver lances being flung at the Knight.
>Frankly I don't know how anything would survive that, one of those should obliterate anything it slams into.
>But we can't give him a moment of respite, we have to-
>Okay what the hell is happening, a ex-Councilierge is helping us now?
>Alright, I can work with this, anyone helping to wipe him off the face of Tallus is definitely appreciated.
>Maybe not stable, but I'll take 'helping get good ponies out' over another enemy any day.
>And we gain ever more ground, as the formation around me lurches forward at a quicker pace.
>Okay, 276 meters.
>Still plenty of distance, no reason to begin a bombardment on them quite yet.
>However, that Phantasm Knight needs to remain distracted.
"Strikers! Keep him on his back hooves, if he doesn't have time to breathe he doesn't have time to think! One order of Barrage!"
>Okay that leaves me with two orders, now I need to find good enough recipients for it.
>And with a rousing line from Broken Hoof, I attempt to aid her in adding fire to the Second Dynasty's brave guardsmares.
"FORWARD! FORWARD FOR YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS! FOR YOUR YOUNG AND THEIR MOTHERS! FOR YOUR FREEDOM!"
>And now we hope it inspires them.
>Fantastic, finally some good news!
(Great work, Mercenaries! The Second Dynasty won't forget the service you're paying to it's citizens! Strikers, spare them a bit of your guidance!)
Order- Enforce Tactics
>Hopefully, there are a few strikers left over enough to help out elsewhere...
>And we'll need it, the lieutenant is getting hammered pretty bad.
"The rest of the Strikers still left available, shield the brave lieutenants retinue from any incoming harm!"
Order- Northern Shield
>Looking behind, I see Denra...wait where is he?
>I finish turning around to look at just what he's making.
>Vigilites are running...out of Stalliongrad?
>Interesting.
>Better they leave then pile on the top of the ponies we're already dealing with.
(Remain calm! Panicking serves none but the enemy! We will survive this, I swear by my title as your Solar Prince!)
>Alright, stay cool.
>Panic brings mistakes brings death.
>I survey the battlefield with only the calm a dead man walking can.
>mfw

>>199122

>Sunny flapped her wings a few times to help clear more of the steam, shooting a sheepish, apologetic look towards Nibbles.
"Sorry about that. Distracted."
>She wouldn't pretend to understand the bat cat, but maybe the bat cat would understand her.
>Whatever mistake she'd made, her work was complete, she cradled it in her hooves like a madmare almost.
>Then shook her head and stowed it, in ear towards the newcomer, followed by an eye.
"Yes. I mean, no. Station's all yours, there's nothing left for me to do with this for the time being."
>She gave her saddlebag a pat.
"Luckily, the body isn't mine this time. Must have made a miscalculation somewhere along the line with it."
>Having been working in the lab on it so long, she had no idea what to do now.
>She should go.
"I should go. I'll leave you to your work."
>The mare trotted out and down to the library with little more id-
>Right. Clinic, Changeling cores, Tipper.
>The mare set off to make her delivery.

>>199202
>Hotly glowing green eyes focusing on the back of your head, the Changeling Vanguard forces a drained sense of malice to permeate her mental words, the intensity of contact unheard by the Second Dynasty's continued flurry of orders.
(You buried Stalliongrad's defectors without request. What right do I have to order your burial with the same unquestioning respect? Live to see this plan fulfilled and these ponies will not be delivered another major loss.)
>Severing the mental connection, Roust's cadre of Shieldmares halt their advance to allow swifter translocation access while tightening her formation, the constant echo of 'safe to enter' from the earlier Scouts rapidly dwindling the numbers of non-combatants.

>The unnamed Stalliongrad Lieutenant denotes a further number of deceased earth ponies, twenty-three this time, then orders her unit into Double Speard Formation, the east flank composed of Light Lancers, the west flank assembling into a mass of Heavy Lancers.
(Order out Knight-General, I'm taking the east flank, weapons ready mares!)
>While all the non-Lancers shift into Knight-General Broken Hoof's formation, a great deal of resentment is quickly forgiven as the mare's cold-hearted calculations are understood with a pair of simple commands:
(Kill as many as possible in the first charge, once we're through swivel on hoof and enter close quarters!)
[1d6+6 = 9]
<Death or Glory: Charge
[1d6+6 = 7]

[1d6+6 = 11]

[1d6+6 = 7]

>Slowing from Broken Hoof's order to a meager three hooves per second, the Support Strikers under your command welcome another five mares into their ranks, their collective consciousness processing the orders with a slight, noticeable delay.
(One hundred ninety meters to contact Prince, we remain ready.)
>Momentarily agreeing upon a course of action, your Strikers force open a rift into the Void from well outside Stalliongrad, freeing a sliver of conceptual chaos and sending the maddened thoughtform towards the Phantasm Knight, a minuscule streak of dark purple breaching the night sky on a direct collision course onto the Phantasm Night from the distant north.
[1d6+30 = 35]

>Behind your Support Strikers, the collected mercenaries of Stalliongrad break from their supporting advance of the Foalguard and thunder into a flat out run, their collective target changing from the weakened eastern line of Watch Guard to the much more solid western ranks currently being bulldozed into by Master-Lieutenant Stone Crest's Moderatis Lancer retinue.
[1d6+9 = 14]
<Enforced Tactic: Charge
[1d6+9 = 14]

[1d6+9 = 14]

[1d6+9 = 14]

[1d6+11 = 12]
<Master-Lieutenant Stone Crest
[1d6+8 = 12]
<Moderatis Lancers
>vs:
[1d6+6 = 12]
<Captain Stranded Wave
[1d6+4 = 8]
<Close Combat Retinue

>Demanding their rapidly increasing mental and physical fatigue to cease existing, your Support Strikers take a deep inhale as one; far ahead the outline of a dense, several meter thick green barrier boils into reality above the Lieutenant's Formation, shielding them from both the front and overhead.
[1d6+30 = 32]
<Northern Shield
[1d6 = 2]
<Support Strikers: Resolve

>Silently admitting to yourself that you were, somehow, both surprised and unsurprised at the same time, the radiant solar cascade emitting off you frames the form of a gigantic, literal earth pony taking shape in Stalliondgrad's Main Square far behind you, the creation's exterior coloration shifting to a dull matte black.
>Whether or not Denra's potentially exacting attention to detail was horrifying to the massed consciousness of the Second Dynasty did not matter, at the moment the question of why he'd chosen to create such a neigh-heretical golem was much more important, the majority of your Support Strikers voicing their horror at the idea.
>Unsatisfied with the imperfect creation, the former Solar ambassador's orders to his new entourage of earth pony psions is barely heeded, the jagged exterior melding together into not only a much more realistic skin, the addition of a mane and tail creating an imposingly debauched scenario in the already chaotic mess.
[1d6 = 4]
<Grand Golem Modification: Stalliongrad's Defiance

>Struck by the pair of lance projectiles, whatever harm the Phantasm Knight had suffered was not apparent, Aura's blade immediately replaced by an equally giant two-handed axe, now hurtling down at the old and greatly unwanted interloper.
[1d6+60 = 62]
<Phantasm Sunder
[1d6+60 = 66]

>Seen through the gaze of a single psionic eye, Tactician Elwood, barely visible at range, shifts tactics from destroying the weapon to defending herself, the former Councilierge's body seeming to twist in warping reality before emitting a screen of tiny silver projectiles, the mass detonating as the axe reaches striking range.
"Getting soft in your old age, Aura? Here I figured you might've come up with a new trick in thirty years of being the biggest stallion whore this side of Cloudsdale!"
[1d6+30 = 36]
<Grandmaster Crusade
[1d6+30 = 32]

[1d6+30 = 34]

[1d6+30 = 36]

[1d6+30 = 36]

[1d6+30 = 32]

>Stifling the Primus and Tarusian Crests charging into his Shieldmare ranks, Brute Kantred nonetheless orders a counterattack despite his unit's lack of close combat weaponry, the Second Dynasty's Scouts noting that the Councilierge commander's plan was quickly doomed to fail.
[1d6+19 = 23]
<Primus Wandering Steps: Close Range Tactics
[1d6+15 = 18]
<Tarusian Crest Regiment: Close Range Tactics
>vs:
[1d6+11 = 14]
<Brute Kantred: Close Range Tactics
[1d6+13 = 19]
<Retinue: Close Range Tactics

(Nine Watch Guard formations en route from Northern Military District, approximately ten more mobilizing-)
(You might be our Prince now but I would like to keep my skin intact rather than turning into one of the damned Undead crawling out of a rotten draveyard!)
(Shut up! We're about to get surrounded so instead of freaking out keep your eye open and prepare to exploit any holes in their movements!)

>>199203
>Waiting for a response, or rather a lack thereof, there weren't even any mercenaries outside chattering, let alone a cricket.
>Then again, it was late fall, somewhere around midnight, and rather chilly.

>Head tipping right, the Warden General visibly deadpans behind the mostly translucent crystalline plating, slowly blinking in confusion.
"The way you said that.. were you planning o- nnnnevermind, not my business."
>Eyebrows raising as you prepare leave, the Crystal mare lifts a forehoof and plants it in the ccenter of her facemask with a heavy sigh.

>Tromping down the steps into the main foyer, the strange scent of magic had dissipated, leaving only a greasy stain of some kind in the air, though at least it wasn't buttery.
>Exiting the Library and heading north-northwest, you began experiencing that most dreadful of sensations: complete exposure.
>There were ponies, somewhere out there, watching you.
>Watching as if you had no clothes on.
>Perhaps the worst part: at least one of those ponies was snickering.

>Entering the Clinic proper, you're assaulted by the recent scents of many alchemical extracts, the sharp, coppery tang of blood, several different forms of tea, and a rather smooth blueberry-infused mareijuana.
>At what you took to be the front desk, it was, unsurprisingly, cluttered with books, notes, alchemical bottles, and a positively ancient looking white tea set.
>The chair directly behind the desk was taken up by patchwork white blanket draped over it, the mass stirring as a single molten, swirling silver eye surveys your presence.
>Yep, still exposed.
>Nudging the blanket up, a positively venerable faded pink unicorn mare peers down for several moments, then smiles in brief acknowledgement, her horn caught in the folds.
"Ah, that explains it, you must be the mercenary Krinza hired. Mercy would have simply gone to sleep if she needed treatment."
>Pausing to frown, the mare's strange eyes roll upwards, blinking once, then lower as a hoof raises under the blanket, most likely in greeting.
"I'm Doctor Tipper, but please call me Tipsy. Please excuse my manners, I've had a rather... difficult night. Now, what can I help you with?"

>>199225

>The Pegasus quirked her eye and shook her head at the implication as she walked, she most certainly was not planning whatever that mare was thinking.
>Leaving the encounter out of mind for the moment, Sunny focused her attention on Doctor Tipper.
"I have a delivery for you from the Changelings. Two cores, Queen Chrysalis would like you to find out anything you can about them, the details and payment are here."
>Opening her saddlebag, Sunny carefully extracted the two cores and set them both upon the desk. She eyed one of the spheres when it rolled slightly, silently daring it to try to fall off the desk before returning her attention to her saddlebag, recovering the relevant contract sheet along with the cotton pouch, depositing them alongside the cores.
"Something about waking them, they've tried and failed in their own attempts, it seems."
>The sense of exposure just wouldn't shake itself off. Why? She was clothed.

>>199149
[Unusual. Canterlot nobility would not behave like this. Unicorns would not hide their horns. Nature of injuries is unclear. Psychological outlier.]

>Pareidolia meets her hateful gaze with his mask's colored lenses and slowly stands up as the unicorn forcibly recruits him.
>He closes his eyes for a number of seconds while exhaling through his nose, the sound muffled by his filter.

"What is it."

[Tiring... bake?]

>>199238
>Sitting up straight at your mention of Changelings, the elderly mare's jaw slowly drops, audibly transcending into great confusion.
"What do.. how.. Why is she.. who did.. what am I.."
>Acknowledging your dare, the core ceases moving.
>Low Stability Consequence: she knew. The consciousness of that Changeling mare trapped inside her own potentially regenerative core-of-self tried to understand, yet could not. This was not where or when she was supposed to be, nor were events right. "This is wrong. Where am I? Who are you?" The Changeling mare could only watch you, incapable of speaking or interacting albeit well aware of her weakened existence, the tenuous grasp of what little life she possessed on Tallus was terrifying. She had unwillingly suffered psychological trauma of the type that could not be easily recovered from. The other Changeling core was silent. You were unable to understand why, yet you knew he too was only able to observe his surroundings. There was no madness or fear from the stallion, merely a sense of merciless self-contemplation. He had somehow failed his duties in the past, and would not share why with you. He was not afraid, no, he had been awake and aware too long. The only action the Changeling stallion was able to take take had been to extend the relief of thankfulness to you, especially now that he was no longer alone.

>Meanwhile, Tipsy stares between the dull green orbs, rather speechless and apprehensive for the third time this night.
>Mustering up the courage to drag the contract to her for a slow and thoughtful read, the faded mare's lips eventually tighten into a thin line, startling you back into reality from the peculiar reverie you'd fallen into as she speaks, leaning forwards in her chair with a creak.
"Speaking from direct experience, I've been able to observe a Vanguard's recuperation and molting twice. In theory, the only possible explanation available is that the Hive's capacity for affection and love must be overstretched to the point that each individual Changeling is incapable of producing the constant stream of emotional input needed to initiate regeneration. I'm confident that I can convince a couple or herd here in Razorback to carry one core, which should restart their natural regenerative protocols."
>Turning her chair towards the desk, the Doctor lifts a hoof, directing the tea pot onto a flat heatstone, muted pink glows taking hold of a water pitcher and carefully filling the pot, then tossing in four white bags with a tired chuckle.
"The Queen really didn't need to send payment, I'd have done this for free anyways. You take it instead, there's nothing I even want to spend on anymore."

>>199284
>Sunny almost completely ignored the good Doctor, staring intensely at the cores, she didn't know if she was losing her grip even more or if the Changelings within the cores had just spoken to her.
>Felt at her?
>She wasn't entirely certain whether she was an equid or some form of feline, either, but what just happened was outside the range of her usual delusions.
>Or were those delusions her reality?
>Changelings had psionic abilities, yes? Yes. It could potentially not be encroaching madness.
>Though if it were, and she spoke up, her stability would be called into question and no doubt some well meaning pony would seek to do something about it.
>If it weren't, and she did nothing, it would be a callous thing to do and the thought of that would be bothering her all night. Sunny already had to deal with the disquieting thought of mistreating Anonfilly out of her own fear and paranoia, best not to add to it.
>Before she could come to a decision, it seemed her mouth had already made it for her.
"They're both alive at least. Shaken doesn't even begin to describe it, but alive and conscious."
>She considered taking the bits, but thought better of it.
"I'm sure there's better things to put the bits towards than a simple courier, I'm sure you'll find someone to take it, and these two, off your hooves."

>>199271
>Swiveling back to snap a short phrase at Krinza, the F2000, which was certainly not yours as it was much too worn, is set down on the table, followed by the Colt revolver.
>Spinning about on hoof to face you, the dull gold mare plops down onto her rear, an odd, large pendant on a silver chain around her neck swings into view as she grimaces, the yellow coated unicorn likewise setting his weaponry down.
"For your safety I will attempt to explain, but I make no promises that you will understand. Do not pick this up until I tell you."
>Reaching into her leather coat, the mare fishes about for something before pulling a hoof-sized, white cloth wrapped chunk of something out, then tosses it in your direction, shooting the item a deep scowl.
"This is a pre-modern prototype of the current generation small power crystals, with several differences. I have been able to verify that this, among several others which were recovered, is a grave temporal danger to we humans on this world."
>Turning her head briefly to give Krinza an irritated snort, the mare points her left front hoof at the offending wrapped thing.
"According to the other humans and the first of many false alicorns, they brought at least ten of these back from a temporally stunted location in the New Everfree. That is not all, however."
>Sitting upright, the mare's eyes shut, left side of her face contorting in a mixture of pain and annoyance.
"The ponies whom created these likewise developed a much larger version which was used to power a techno-magical device. That device was used to create a causal temporal fracture, halting, in time mind you, a rather large mansion and it's etire grounds for over five hundred years. The false alicorn whom assisted in the retrieval took at least four of these, though I suspect she has five in her possession, along with the diagram of how to produce a non-prototype model of said device."
>Catching the grandmaster smith's eye roll, Krinza likewise sits down, forelegs folding across his barrel with a remorseful sigh.
"Most of what Miss Flash states is indeed true. There was a mansion which, as quoted, had been temporally halted for roughly five hundred years, though I suspect it had been trapped for much longer than that. From ten to fifteen of the prototype small power crystals were recovered, yet I am not aware of what happened to the large version, and they do exhibit some.. anomalous temporal capacities. Since I have not had the time to ponifally experiment with them, I am unable to verify if they are dangerous. As for the diagram itself, that was barely comprehensible. It was written in a mixture of Kingdom Crystal pony, archaic unicorn, and gryphon with a number of symbols that I could not understand."
>Pausing to roll a hoof in the air, Krinza's muzzle quirks in thought.
"However.. while I do not believe Miss Flash's assertion that Celestia is a 'false alicorn', I did not interact with her much beyond four occasions in which she sought my aid."
>Pensively lifting her right front hoof to eyeball its damage, the human-garbed mare blinks once, lifting her eyes to meet your lenses with a tired gaze, then reaches up to press her frog onto the unusual pendant on her neck, a distinctly religious human motion.
"If I can prove to you that the Celestia which accompanied Razorback for a time is indeed a clone and that these temporally disjointed arcane power sources are a threat to each and every human on this world, including myself, I would be willing to grant you any aid that you require, within reason, for the next year. Should you not accept this I will..."
>Trailing off, the mare slumps forwards, deeply sighing in defeat.
"I will leave."

>>199124
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hL08dKh2X9Q&list=PL6kL5OWcMyZvX959KCgcD22Zd-2cBlL1r&index=127

>both parties visibly stiffen for a moment, perturbed by the sudden intrusion, but relax after a moment, recognizing this new character as apparently neutral
"Well met, Lady Gale. Knight-Captain Indurian of the Order of the Northern Sky, at your service."
>the knight bows low with a squeak of metal on metal, as the larger entity introduces himself in his low, booming voice
["And I am Andrammelech the Wroth. I am known traditionally as a Demon in the tongue of the common man, however, I think you'll find that I am... different, from the other senseless beasts in my category."]
>the giant bull-headed creature continues, rolling his eyes and sighing dismissively
["As to what happened... Well, it is a somewhat lengthy tale, but to keep it brief - we two, and another, named Ivan, were dispatched to find a certain friendly creature, a... oh what were they called..."]
>the knight, having apparently returned his short attention span back to the chess game, interjects
"Pred-Elks, you daft fool! Lady Gale and Lady Fleur!"
>the metal man dramatically lifts his queen high into the air, slamming it down onto the board with equal vigor
"Check!"
>barely paying him any attention, Andrammelech idly lifts one of his knights, knocking the piece from the board and sending it tumbling to the floor
>Indurian begins to curse loudly as Andrammelech continues
["Ah yes, those two. As I recall we were sent to recover the latter, with the help of the former. One thing lead to another, and we discovered her inside of a strange... red... place. There were portals and forces involved that I do not personally pretend to comprehend. In any event, we recovered this Fleur character and made our way out of this red space, but stumbled into somewhere completely different -"]
>once again the knight interjects
"A flying fortress! Now return to me my queen!"
>looking at the board again you notice that the knight had managed to move his pawn into the final row of squares. Andrammelech obliged, replacing his pawn with the queen he'd lost. He then removes the queen once again using his rook.
["This floating fortress held many dangers - living statues, treacherous staircases, and most of all, a giant, mechanical squid-like creature!"]
"It was terrifying! We were chased through the air as it shot bright red rays of heat at us! We narrowly survived!"
["However, Ivan and I were negligent in our duties to protect the two of our charges, and when we returned with them, alive but badly beaten, Ivan and I were also savagely beaten by a fiery mare whose name has been physically driven from our minds."]
"As to why we are in our present situation in the outside world, this is because the both of us failed to heed the doctor's advice for rest -"
["And here we are, trapped, as such, until the time when our mind is healed."]

>>199286
>The constant sense of exposure ends as the Changeling consciousnesses return to their respective silences, the stallion returning to his brooding while the mare continues questioning.. everything, really.

>Swiveling a molten silver eye at you, Tipper merely nods in acceptance.
"Not a surprise. I've learned enough about Changelings in the past couple years to understand that they like to use concepts, mental images, moods, emotions, and the like instead of words."
>The Doctor waves a hoof in decisive annoyance, folding the blanket down around her neck with a bemused snort.
"Hah! Don't even start, the moment I even mention I want something Naliyna's diving into Razorback's funds. I'm an old mare now, can't even do half what I'd like on my own. If you really feel that way then give it all to the first pony you come across, I'm sure they'd appreciate the gift."
>Forelegs sinking into the patchwork blanket's comfortable folds, Tipper nudges the chair to face you, both eyebrows raising speculatively.
"I know this isn't my place since I'm not holding your contract, but I would like to ask that you lessen any interference with Razorback's support staff. A certain pony informed me of the 'scuffle' between Hodch and one of the newer humans to arrive here. While I'm relatively sure I can convince Hodch to keep any opinions to himself, Krinza is a much more.. delicate case, I suppose. His previous mentor is gone and he has become overburdened attempting to take up all of Spiral's former duties on his own. He's refused ten medical checkups in the past month, and while I would normally consider that to be a distrust of my methods, he's also the largest factor keeping Razorback going."

>>199291
>Gale seats herself in an incorporeal movement, her body smoothly transitioning from trace outlines into that of a middle aged mare complete with a bright red coat, the pegasi's mane and tail taking on a shade of bright iron coloration.
>Imprints of hazy, dull yellow eyes finally appear, Gale forcefully willing herself to appear inside your mind-state while allowing herself the luxury of a snort.
"Never going to get used to doing this.. I'm not much of a lady these days, what with having four foals, adopting another, and training a bunch of mostly feral ponies into not being lust crazed idiots."
>Head turning to eye Andrammalech with droll amusement, the mare's shoulders lift in a hapless shrug.
"If by senseless beasts of your category the only things I can think of to be similar are either Planar Abominations or Eldritch menaces. To be quite honest, you take this eon's trophy for being sapient, speaking clearly, and not trying to tear me apart for intruding."
>Eyebrows raising, the mare's head tilts left, a deep frown creasing her muzzle while listening intently.
"Twisted Wing, you completely useless, paranoid horse.. what on Luna's impenetrable ass is her problem these days? I knew she could be problematic in the past, but this is ridiculous."
>Left front leg lifting, Gale facehoofs herself square on the snoot, eyes closing while issuing an impressively exasperated, quiet sigh.
"As if the past couple days could't get any worse.. let me get this straight to myself. You, another human named Ivan, and a couple of sapient predator elk, which I've got to see for myself, go to a floating castle. The four of you are overpowered by living statues and some Construct-like tentacled thing capable of producing solar discharges all the while stuck in what sounds like another plane of existence, or maybe even two. The four of you survive with injuries, then you come back. General Pain-In-The-Ass savagely beats only the two humans. Not one damned problem is solved, nor does she even ask what happened. Not even five hours ago I was defending that damned horse in the middle of repelling the single biggest Construct invasion of the Citadel! ...my oldest sister was right, I never should've joined the Lunar Council."
>Setting her hoof down, Gale's expression turns angry, her ears flattening while focusing directly on you.
"Right now I don't even care that you're a mercenary, all I'm concerned about is shoving my hoof so far up Twisted's ass that she tastes polish every time I breathe. I've brought everything I could carry from the Citadel's stocks, even some of the more questionable alchemical mixtures that I wouldn't dare use unless somepony was near death, but since none of them are going to be used I'll make an allowance for technical experimaretation here. There's a good chance one of the four alicorn elixirs should restore you to decent physical state, that is so long as you don't get bucked in the head again within the next week. No matter what there's going to be side effects depending on which one works, so if you have a preference for Solar, Lunar, Hive, or Crystal, let me know which one you want, otherwise I'm going to be throwing a random guess in the dark."

>>199145
>Zhun takes a sip of his tea, enticed by the various aromas
>However, the last thing Pearl said got Zhun thinking
"Um, that may need to go to...Naliyna. For the spy, don't exactly know. Depends on what you want with the spy. And those events."
>Well at least the psion is going to be ok
>As ok as a catatonic pony can be
"I can ask Nal for that but again, I'm guessing."

>>199290
>Pareidolia remains standing, folding his arms as he warily eyes the cloth wrapped object at his feet.

[We...? Delusional thoughts?]

>He slightly cocks his head as Flash hoofs her unfamilar symbol.

[Religious significance? Matches no known symbols. Nopony would believe in a religion not derived from one of the Sisters. Is she really a victim of transformation?]

>Pareidolia keeps his arms folded until she and Krinza finish their explanations.

[Implications of these crystals and a duplicate Celestia are unclear. Nevermind they somehow are only threatening to humans. May explain her injuries if true...]

"How am I to prove the nature of these crystals and how would that prove the Celestia encountered here was a fake?"

>He pauses.

"And you said these crystals have temporal effects based on arcane energy?"

[Handling one with my equipment may be ill advised...]

>>199341
>Sunny stared at the doctor silently, her expression deadpan at the mention of giving it to the first pony she came across.
>Hadn't she just tried to do that?
>She nudged the cotton satchel forward a bit, maintaining her deadpan stare.
>The mare averted her gaze guiltily at her next words, scuffing a hoof lightly against the floor.
"Hodch and I have already come to a professional understanding on that..."
>She furrowed her brow thoughtfully, uncertain.
"I think?"
>Had they? Possibly.
"I should go, I have other deliveries to make."
>Maybe she could just give the bits back to The Hive, that'd probably be the polite thing to do.
>But that would involve going back there.
>Damn it.

>>199357
>Popping open both volumes, they were not only well preserved but had been gone through at some point in the past, the foreword of each marked with Spiral's penhoofship denoting that he'd spent several years correcting historical records using sources from lesser known or distributed studies.
>Curiously, on the bottom of the first page in the Lunar Military Finding foreword was an addendum of numbers, most likely library book numbers.

>The first Construct models to appear in each historically written invasion had always been the Rift Carrier, a small, approximately tennis ball sized orange sphere which could be easily destroyed through the application of a single stomp.
>The Rift Carrier was both apt at crossing dimensions and for being rather difficult to hit as it seemed to constantly scan for danger, interpret the raw data, and use local environments to its advantage much quicker than most sapients; secondary was its ability to create stable Planar portals from the Rift, that being the home plane of the Constructs themselves, to a target location, though the gateway created itself is physical in nature and could be destroyed through severe damage.
>An addendum at the bottom detailing Rift Carrier abilities notes that many researchers believe it to be more mechanical than biological due to the lack of the orange fluid found in combat models.
>Cross-referencing the information, the leading theory, according to a large number of Lunar tacticians, that had come into conflict with Constructs was that the Rift had long ago reached a population peak, requiring both additional resources and space to expand their numbers.
>The second most popular theory was that Constructs were designed with an Inevitable Hostilities Protocol, a form of complete xenophobia that guided their actions into destroying any sapient, non-Construct species encountered.
>Reading through the sources, mostly two to three paragraph battle reports, both theories were, to a small point, technically incorrect as there were numerous records stating it was possible to force Constructs into surrendering, or even aiding a sapient that had demonstrated physical superiority.
>Paging through model descriptions, each Construct was a progressively improved version of the former:
>The small combat model, Scouts were both lightly armed and armored, useful only for long range reconnaissance due to low combat expectancy, often being armed with a single small plasma weapon, a spear or the like, and a variable sized shield.
>Sentry were only found stationed at defensive choke points where their heavier armor, pike, and a single particle whip cannon; an addendum under this one notes that Extra-Planar Harpies whom had fled to Tallus in ages past were the first to explain the concept of a cannon, though the meaning was more speculation than fact due to the many centuries which had passed.
>The Guard model was rarely seen and so far the only sightings of this model were on the Isle of Wind; the Guard was well armored compared to the Sentry, furthermore protected by a large tower shield capable of easily resisting ten of the spear-sized arrows used by Minotaur Rangers, though it only had a pair of small plasma weapons to defend itself with.
>Defenders were a more robust version of the Guard model, often being armed with a large halberd, a tower shield, and either two small plasma cannons or a particle whip; while considered rare, Defenders were typically the main line of Construct forces during invasions and incursions.
>Marauders were the complete opposite of Guards, lightly armored and capable of great speed, armed with a large two-handed halberd and a medium sized particle whip cannon; this model was noted for being highly aggressive and readily willing to sacrifice themselves to protect larger Constructs.
>In contrast to the Defender, the Blockade model was a purely defensive unit equipped with two tower shields much like the Guard model, yet carried a medium sized plasma cannon, and was known to eject explosive munitions, the diagram of one resembling a #10 food storage can.
>The Restricter was an oddity amongst Construct forces as it focused on slowing, entangling, and delaying opponents through the use of snares or nets launched from it's single cannon; at roughly the same size as a Marauder, they were considered priority targets although the last one seen in combat was well over 600 years prior to now.
>The next model, colloquially named the Blazer, had only been encountered three times in the past, and, given the information on it, was a nightmare to deal with: two missile pods the size of an average briefcase, two small plasma cannons, a medium particle whip cannon, furthermore armed with a round headed mace at least five times the weight that even the largest human would find comfortable to use, and was protected by a large round shield which, according to a single combat note, was used extensively.
>Further models in the Findings book were mostly speculative throughout the past 400 years, multiple theories suggesting that the basic bright orange models typically sufficed for most combat endeavors, yet the carefully sketched diagrams of Construct weapons which had been studied showed an inordinate amount of precision and lethality in equal amounts: laser, plasma, multipurpose missiles, mines, and the barely comprehensible particle whip weapon were commonly used, although the more esoteric weapons were far beyond your understanding.

>Expending the flask's contents within the first hour, it seemed that the permanent Construct 'cities' in occupied locations functioned more like storehouses, the most notable one being the Isle of Wind off the coast of Saddle Arabia, formerly the home of the Therroest Lisle harpies.

>Startled by a 'thunk' in front of you, a large, dinner plate sized, bright silver disc slaps onto the table, a small note taped to the top.
'Enjoy!'

>>199371
>Lifting her cup with both hooves carefully, the Duchess purses her lips, her face crinkling in a devious, or deviant, motion.
"Not to worry! I have devised a plan to deal with the spy. The first step involves a hoof to her face, the second will be to ask her whether or not a certain gentlestallion of the Day Guard is still available. The third, however, will be of a most frightening, and lewd experience. For her, that is."
>Amerose's ears twitch upwards as she finishes her straightening, leaning backwards to give you an appraising glance, then turning to the noblemare after.
"Zhun, perhaps it is best that we do not involve Naliyna, yes? This matter is, to be polite, much too small to involve her. Likewise, I do not think it would be a good idea to alert her to the unusual and likely illegal situation regarding the Duchess' capture. What do you believe the cost of damage to be to your mansion?"
"Hm, I'm no expert, but a thousand Bits, give or take five hundred, should cover repairs. I have never been rich mind you, living statue to statue has become rather difficult recently. Even if I had the materials I lack the knowledge to use them. That is, unless the material is some form of stone, though I doubt my expertise in shaping would be useful."
>The Lorekeeper's entire body mimics her sudden deadpan at the paltry sum, turning her stare to you momentarily, then back, quickly giving way to a cautious tone.
"I.. see. Given the circumstances of your 'capture', and adding in the problems said 'capture' could cause were it to be known publicly, I will offer you ten thousand Bits to cover the costs. I cannot help but feel duty bound to prevent complications occurring from your unique situation, so you may feel free to take this as a bribe."
>Pearl Lake sets down the teacup, lifting a hoof to rub her chin in thought before giving a smooth, graceful nod, accompanied by a small smile.
"While I would very much like to speak with that batpony and her human mate privately, I do understand that this information getting out would be most negative, particularly to the Lunar faction. As for your offer being a bribe, let it be known that I am... flexible when it comes to being negotiated with. As such, I humbly accept your offer."
>Leaning forwards, the Duchess extends her right foreleg across the table, Amerose delivering the noblemare a brisk hoof bump, sitting back down with a marginally pleased smile.
"It is settled then, unless you disagree, Zhun?"

>>199396
>The dull gold mare freezes in place at the first question, her face creasing in hitherto unseen levels of 'I have just fucked up now'.
"I.. did not think of.. how. At least, not the exact specifics.. ..I think."
>Performing the necessary facehoof, Krinza releases a short, bemused sigh.
"If I did not have Spiral's notes on your behavior I would think you to be the single most annoying, arrogant, and worthless human yet. Then again, there was that one I would very much like to forget."
>Recovering from the unexpected question quickly, Flash's eyes swivel upwards back onto you, her nose twitching irritably.
"A workaround. I now realize that you are the other human whom went to the temporally displaced mansion, thus it should be simple to perform a thorough examination of your memory solely pertaining to that event, or should you choose to battle such a temporal anomaly, aid me in dissecting it. I have no interest in discovering your past nor do I care what, exactly, your motives are. Regardless, I have extensive experience in performing temporal incursions, deletions, backsteps, timeline splicing, and phase-shifting temporal deviances back to their intended location. In doing so I will be able to provide the xenos... rather, the pony named Krinza, your experiences with her, along with the relative information encountered within the mansion."
>Reaching up to touch the pendant once more, only this time keeping her hoof on it, the mare's head quickly turns towards the Workshop's front door, then back to you while expressing moderate relief.
"Yes, they do. While I am not able to perfectly differentiate between arcane and technological temporal instabilities due to lacking most of my omniverse's equipment, this one is the first. There is a mechanical watch I have been using to test one of these power crystals. I was able to 'acquire' it shortly after the recovery, and so far the second hand has made perhaps one millionth of a movement."

>Rolling his eyes in the background, Krinza shakes his head, muttering under his breath in slow, measured disgust, breaking from his normally placidity into a much more jaded, tired tone.
"This is the type of nonsensical shit Spiral would enjoy.. why am I about to agree to this? Why do I actually feel sorry for this damned human in the first place? And why did I even take this job?"

>>199448
"I'm not so sure about that."
>Reaching up to bring the blanket onto her horn, the old Doctor offers an irritated shrug in response.
"Both Hodch and Krinza were very close friends of Marquis du Spiral, and when he left both of them started acting.. quite different. Gauging by the first's rather strange requests tonight and short temper, I'd caution you to be wary of any interactions with him. As for Krinza, I've never seen heard of him losing focus, or purposefully butting heads with that ridiculous inquisitor human. Right now I just don't have the energy or time to try solving their problems, let alone go looking for yet another couple of ponies missing from here."
>Offering you a sincere, appreciate nod, Tipper pushes her chair back towards the desk, allowing a brief, amusing snort before lifting a hoof in farewell.
"Have a good night then and come to me if you have any problems, I'm pretty much always here. Ah, before you go would you mind checking on Shanis? She's not been doing well recently, although that seal seems to be helping through her troubles. I can barely believe they've come back."

>>199182

>The Unicorn snorted at Adons explanation that he was not actually a witch yet still had her horn glow in a prepared manner. "A human though, unique enough."
>"Ain't that the truth." said one of the Gryphons. In front of the Witcher was the Unicorn, to his side were the Gryphons and stomping at a wide berth to get behind him was the Minotaur. "What monster, 'Monster Hunter'." Inquired the bull, his voice a low tremor.
>Another glance in the Chiqtu' direction showed it had shimmied up the tree to get to the rope, where it now was sawing at the thing. The closet slave, a small pony by the looks of it with a pastel red coat looked up at the small fuzzball with wonderment.
[1d6+1 = 4]
>Sharpness
[1d6 = 5]
>Poking

>"You wan' un aye? They ain' for sale." Cawed the first Gryphon, his wings flapping forward for enthesis.

>>199353
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KkVwuWH-woA&t=0s&index=117&list=PL6kL5OWcMyZvX959KCgcD22Zd-2cBlL1r
>Andrammelech raises an eyebrow, giving Ironmane something which might pass for a smile, but looked more like a toothy grin
["I do appreciate your kind words - there once was a time when I might have attempted to tear you limb from limb, however many things have changed, since I have arrived here."]
>Indurian nods in agreement
"Quite. When we first arrived, he wore my skin, controlling me completely. However over time we came to a... gentleman's agreement."
["Yes, we tolerate each other, and work together to reach our individual goals. Or, I should say, I tolerate him."]
>at her retelling, both nod in agreement
"Aye! She reacted quite quickly, with much force and fury! To add to things, I have spoken to lady Gale since the incident, and though she must be in great pain, she herself has forgiven us! Not much is there which a woman of quick temper may not destroy."
>Indurian's face lights up at the offer of help
"Oh, we would be most grateful to you, for anything you can do which might help us! I grow weary of losing these endless games of knights and pawns!"
>Andrammelech scoffs
["Thou art not clever, this much is true enough..."]
>Indurian dismisses Andrammelech with a wave of his hand, attention returning to Ironmane
"No, no, that is quite alright, I shall choose th-"
["No, WE shall choose-"]
{"The Crystal Mixture"}
>they say in unison

>>199571
>Pareidolia's raised head lowers slightly, bearing down at the Inquisitor as she balks.
>He continues to silently look down at her as she explains.

[Memory examination? Unacceptable.]

>Hidden from view, his brow furrows as the situation is complicated by "battling temporal anomalies".

[Experience with time travel? Just what breakthroughs did her world make that SERN failed to? Or is this more unknown forms of magic? More information required.]

>Shifting to half hold up a splayed, gloved hand palm forward, he gestures firmly.

"Memory examination is impermissible. Explain what 'battling a temporal anomaly and dissecting it' involves."

>As Krinza mutters in disbelief, Pareidolia also shakes his head slightly.

"If these crystals are arcane in nature, contact with my suit may result in whatever fuels them to be drained. What is your basis that these crystals are a threat to humans?"

>He glances over towards Krinza.

[Psychological strain of Spiral's absence is mounting. Treatment required or Fortress functions may face collapse.]

"For what it's worth Krinza, you could not have predicted the situation at Razorback. The deteriorating situation here is the result of humans, not anything else."

>>199574
"Certainly, thank you, Doctor."
>With a nod, Sunny turned and left, leaving the cotton satchel on Tipper's desk and out the door hopefully before the mare could do anything to stop her.
>It was certainly good to know she hadn't been hallucinating that trader seal earlier. Although, she could have hallucinated Doctor Tipper mentioning them.
>If she did as the doctor ordered and went to check on Shanis, and Shanis also acknowledged seals, then she could be sure.
>Probably.
>The last she'd seen Shanis, she was asleep in the Pagoda clutching a seal, or so she thought, the seal might still be delusion.
>That would be the best place to start.
>At least her pack was lighter without the changeling cores, along with the absence of what she now realised was their scrutiny of her doings.
>Oh gods, what had they seen?
>Before? Before. Her conversation with Hodch, her crazed potion making, nothing damning at least.
>Maybe a little eccentric.
>She should probably worry about that later. Pagoda first.

>>199698
>Puffing out her chest proudly, the alchemist bats her eyebrows in mock dismissal.
"Oh please, don't make this mare blush. It's not every decade I can talk nicely to a being that makes half the things those batponies in the Moors drag out look even more horrifying in context."
>Ears flicking back and forth in thought, Gale lifts her right foreleg, using the knee to scratch the top of her nose while glancing between you and the demon.
"Your.. situations, really, sound symbiotic at this point. Better to function together moderately well than fall apart separately. As some say, irony is a better life than misery. Just keep your, er, individual problems in check with each other's aid, yes?"
>Casually bringing her right hoof down for a much too serious, almost creepy inspection, the mare doesn't even bother trying to hide a malicious grin.
"Don't either of you worry about the General any longer. Now that there's proof, I've got a few plans for her.."
>Head lifting, Gale sets her malevolently glowing hoof down, eyebrows raising speculatively as she thinks for a bit, then lifts her left wing in a rather poor salute.
"So long as you understand that I've not used Princess Cadence's elixir on an Otherworldly being before. I've no idea what the side effects will be, though I am fairly sure that you might turn.. crystalline. That is, until you fully recover. Excuse me for a bit, it will take some time to admareister the full dosage. Until then!"
>Leaving behind a single thread of bright pink floating above the chessboard, the room returns to normal as before, except now imprinted with a sensation of mareish glee.

>>199743
>Making a derisive 'I expected this' face, Flash lifts her front hooves together for a single clop, immediately snapping down a scowl at the offending motion, then rolls her shoulders in a smug motion.
"I anticipated that in forty-one out of fifty potential timelines you would state exactly what you did. I even have proof, do I not?"
>Pulling down a note off his work table, Krinza stares at it for a bit dumbfounded, a deep set grimace spreading across his face as he nods, grumbling under his breath too low to hear while the medieval clothed equine takes on a, for once, serious tone.
"A temporal anomaly is when an event occurs.. that should not have occurred. When left alone such anomalies either repeat themselves, that is, drawing in beings similar to those effected, trapping them within by causing a repetitious event close to the original occurrence, or will eventually expand throughout the locale, likewise trapping flora, fauna, sapients, particulates, and even electromagnetic resonances, or 'arcane energies' as the term is known as on this xenos world, within the anomaly. Should the anomaly expand it will then begin to deteriorate both physical matter and the immaterial substances and fields which are, for lack of a simpler phrase, stuck inside itself, causing phase-shifts from other dimensions or spectrums, fracturing space-time congruences into other planes of reality. A rare few temporal anomalies have even been able to, again for lack of a simpler and easily understood phrase, rewind time itself for an entire world or solar system by multiple centuries, or simply disperses everything contained within the anomaly itself throughout omniversal space-time, typically being deposited on similar worlds through many hundreds of eons. At one point my vessel encountered the remains of an entire city floating in a fully desiccated albeit well preserved state within the range of an.. isolated outpost owned by the remnants of my Order, one which been lost for approximately six-thousand four-hundred and ninety-two years. As well, allow me to show you what a temporal dissection is-"
>Lifting a front hoof, the mare disappears from sight for less than a second, returning in the exact same place as she was, her mane freshly showered, both front hooves neatly cleaned, several and small pieces of what looked like blue across the frog, Flash giving a mildly paranoid frown.
"This. A dissection is when an abnormal temporal deviance is corrected, whether by force or splicing together the correct timeline, as I have just done. I was not supposed to be digging under the Workshop for as long as I was, which led to an even worse incident here, so I made a simple alteration causing the previous iteration of me to stop work twenty minutes earlier and become more... presentable, I suppose. To be clear, I cannot explain more than that as such knowledge is an inherently corruptive influence. To journey within the tapestry of time itself is to learn how it is possible to change events, often on a galactic scale. Throughout the twenty thousand years or my Order has existed, in the early days many foolishly believed they knew better and attempted to alter historical events. Some of those attempts succeeded despite those such as myself stopping them at all costs, yet those idiots did not take heed to the fact that such alterations are always considerably more disastrous than the original event itself. In short, it is my solemn duty to prevent temporal fuck ups."
>Turning her snout up in the air to give Krinza a short glower, the dull gold post-human shakes her head, reaching into her coat again to toss a small, normal looking power crystal in your direction.
"Then use this one to recharge your equipment, I took it from a xenos faction in Las Pegasus which no longer needs it. In basic terms, arcane energy can be analogous to electrical power when properly converted, yet it is also an accumulation of elemental, psionic, and other forms of semi-material or immaterial energies, including Planar."
>Leaning to the side and picking up her hat, hoof sticking to the leather, Flash sets it off to the side, her expression hardening.
"Five times within the past year I have... shall I say, 'acquired' an audience with the true Princess Celestia residing in Canterlot. I will share little on what I spoke to her of, save to state this: what do you think will eventually occur when her myriad clones, created through use of the sun globes and driven into existence as the 'daughters' of her alter-ego, the Solar Tyrant, desire to complete a device capable of temporal manipulation that is no longer a barely functional prototype? Perhaps one of them will travel back to Celestia's first meeting with we humans in Canterlot and change our orders, preventing the necessary death of Sharonel or the destruction of Old Canterlot? Maybe one of them will instead decide to kill every human that was there, including myself? Or for a twist of irony, prevent every human from reaching Tallus safely? The possibilities are, like the dangers, endless."

>Looking up from his position, Krinza raises his shoulders in a helpless motion, though is immediately cut off by Flash smacking her hoof in the floor with a grinding snarl.
"Enough! If it were not for the true Celestia desiring a force of expendable mercenaries not from this damned xenos world, I would be back on my ship plying the galaxy in the craven, callously self-righteous holy names of stupidity and arrogance! I would rather be here in this miserably lewd xenos body that isn't my own rather than being a slave forced to follow quadrillions of other puppets that were needlessly slaughtered before my own birth!"

>>199144

>Lont made a mental note to help Cadence with the patients when he was done with this.

>'Hundreds of them, this mare must be real trouble for the Empire. Ugh what the fuck is with those colours.' He thought as he went by the second cordon, the combination of pastels making his eyes water. Though, he wasn't one to talk, as his current getup was a poorly mashed together assortment of weaponry and equipment; like he just drove through a costume closet.

>Seeing the third cordon had his throat go dry, the carnage wrought upon these Knights was near impossible to imagine. He could only see some sort of APC or small tank do such damage, not a fleeing Ward. He made another note to attend to these ponies first before heading back to the Spire.

>Reaching the forth cordon he saw this time there was no way of getting past this, a literal wall of armour and magic blocking his path. Clicking his tongue in frustration he slowed his motorbike to a growling stop, looking for an alternate path that bypassed this cordon and brought him back onto the fleeing Wards trail. And while he was staying still for the brief moment he took this chance to remember if she was a Matrice in her direction.

[1d6 = 4]
E.Perception
[1d6 = 3]

[1d6 = 4]

[1d6+1 = 5]
>H.E

>>199804
>Pareidolia keeps his arms folded and leans back onto his heels.

[Then you should know how to answer me to achieve the result you want.]

>As she launches into her length explanation, he moves to lean against the wall near the doorway to the garage.

[Curious definitions. Fascinating, however irrelevant information.]

>Her display of temporal slicing elicits only a minor tilting of his head.
>With a deft hand, he catches the crystal before pocketing it.

[Experienced. Well supplied. Long winded. Failed to demonstrate how the law of causality has not been violated. All irrelevant to my question.]

>Pareidolia sighs heavily.

"Fascinating, but not what I asked. The implications of possible interference from the presumed dead Solar Tyrant are not something I need persuasion to deal with. I wanted an answer on what *I* would be required to do to "battle" a temporal anomaly. Definitions and explanations irrelevant to the immediate operational goal involving these crystals-"

>He gestures with his boot to the wrapped bundle before him.

"are unnecessary. The Celestia I spoke with confirmed there were temporal crystals at the mansion along with spectres and an accident that killed three ponies there. If what you claim is true, then proof will arise from the investigative process. But what did you specifically want from *me*?"

>>199781
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHojJsGlZ-s&list=PL6kL5OWcMyZvX959KCgcD22Zd-2cBlL1r&index=111
>as soon as Ironmane leaves, Indurian jumps with elation
"YES! Free at last we shall be!"
>Andrammelech resigns himself to a chuckle and a smile, leaning back in his throne and folding his massive arms across his chest
["Indeed. It would seem that we will likely owe this Ironmane character a debt, once we are revived..."]
>the daemon falls silent, long enough for the knight to take notice
"Friend, what may now trouble your troubling mind? We stand now upon the brink of salvation!"
>he walks slowly towards Andrammelech, now standing before his towering frame, slumped forward in his massive chair, clearly deep in thought
"Art thou not pleased, at this of all moments?"
>a rumbling sigh escapes the daemon's elongated maw
["I must worry, knight, of the consequences."]
"I share your concerns, yet I feel I must point out that one thing which we both know to be absolutely true - our list of alternatives is drastically lacking."
["Huh... true."]
>with that, Andrammelech waves his massive hand - gone is the chess board, now replaced with several wooden barrels
>two goblets appear, one small in Indurian's hand, and one large, for Andrammelech
>the knight, catching on quickly, draws his sword and stabs one of the barrels, bringing forth a healthy gush of deep, red wine
["A celebration, while we wait."]

>>199811
>Except for backtracking to take either the north or south alleys, and having to convince the Wardens to let you through, the quickest route was probably forward.
>Most likely knowing of your impending arrival before hearing it, the four center rows of Wardens spill back out from the intersection, the double lines spinning and racing towards the third cordon, allowing a relatively clear path through the remaining Crystal ponies.
>One of the rearmost Crusaders turns its head back to you, the mare shouting in a calm yet demanding tone.
"Damned things are weak to elementals, we'll try to keep them contained! Now move ahead before they try to flee again!"

>Beyond the clustered Wardens you watch what was, perhaps, the most confusing and odd battle you'd witnessed so far:
>Champion Belregard, or a Golem that perfectly matched that one's appearance including a missing shield, was in the beginning stage of a wind up straight punch to the face of a blood-covered alicorn height pony, albeit with considerably more body mass and dozens of long, barb-tipped appendages sprouting from its barrel and saddle.
>The Golem's shield-lance raises up to meet the majority of offending organic weaponry while the fist impacts, a single burst of neon pink radiating into the pony, or creature's, body, seemingly oblivious to the potential harm it was about to suffer.
[1d6+15 = 17]
<Master Ethereal Lance
[1d6+15 = 18]

[1d6+15 = 21]

[1d6+15 = 17]

[1d6+4 = 6]
<Ethereal Scourge
>vs:
[1d6+11 = 13]
<????? #1
[1d6+11 = 12]

[1d6+11 = 15]

[1d6+11 = 12]

[1d6+10 = 11]
<????? #1 Regeneration
[1d6+10 = 11]

[1d6+10 = 12]

[1d6+10 = 16]

>Flashing into view briefly, a wholly unarmored, sparkling seafoam green and pearly ocean blue Crystal filly, the mane a curious two-tone hot pink and lemon, stabs a short-hafted, bluesteel tipped leaf bladed spear into the face of another pony-creature, virtually the same as the first save for numerous frozen patches across it's body.
>Taking full advantage of the greatly slowed down creature, the filly performs an impressive rearward bounce out of range before it even has a chance to strike.
[1d6+6 = 7]
<E.Assault
[1d6+6 = 9]

[1d6+6 = 10]

[1d6+2 = 5]
<Frostcrack
[1d6+2 = 8]
<E.Crystal Runes: Pull
[1d6+2 = 5]

[1d6+2 = 3]

>vs:
[1d6+11 = 14]
<????? #2
[1d6+11 = 17]

[1d6+11 = 15]

[1d6+11 = 16]

[1d6+7 = 8]
<????? #2: Regeneration
[1d6+7 = 13]

[1d6+7 = 13]

[1d6+7 = 12]

>Beyond the pony-creature scrambling madly in a failing attempt to catch up with the filly, a likewise unarmored and, at least to your eyes, Crystal pony mare of no particular note was locked into a close range and fully one sided duel with a third creature.
>As you watch, the mare hooks both of her forelegs around the opponent's, then twists sideways with a powerful buck to the crystal ground, slamming the creature down with an accompanying series of sounds that could only be numerous bones fracturing, to which the creature responds by stabbing a multitude of the same barb-tipped appendages into the mare's seemingly uncaring face, neck, and chest.
[1d6+13 = 18]
<M.Storm Tactic: Slam
[1d6+13 = 17]

[1d6+13 = 17]

[1d6+13 = 17]

[1d6+8 = 10]
<Resist Damage
[1d6+8 = 13]

[1d6+8 = 12]

[1d6+8 = 14]

[1d6+11 = 15]
<????? #3
[1d6+11 = 17]

[1d6+11 = 17]

[1d6+11 = 17]

[1d6+10 = 11]
<????? #3: Regeneration
[1d6+10 = 16]

[1d6+10 = 15]

[1d6+10 = 14]

>Over the din of hoofboots passing by you and the battle ahead, a much too young to be here Crystal colt could be heard loudly cheering, though there was an odd double inflection to his voice.
"Go mom go! Go mom go!"

>>199541
"Hmmm, some of these seem familiar."
>Clem mumbled to himself, trying to parse through this info
>Good insight on Constructs and their motives
>Somewhat motives
>He still needs things on Constructs that seem capable of flight, let alone space travel
>Suddenly hinging on an idea, Clemency returns to the Construct library section and picks out that Historian's Guide and the book on the Therrost Isles
>Cracking those books open he goes through Construct incursions, seeing how they start

>>199563
>Zhun sips at his teacup again, though with a surprised look when the mention of lewd is heard
>"Need to get used to ponies and their...liberties."
"Well, ok."
>He listens to Amerose negotiate this
>Also apparently the Duchess is one of statues
>Zhun was amused however at the mention of 10000 bits
>Made him feel funny, seeing as he is a part of this and money is just flaunted like that
>Something to get used to
>Zhun looks over to the Duchess with a grin and a nod
"Everything looks fine to me."
>As long as it doesn't get out
>Good thing he's good at secrets

>>199864
>Reaching into her coat again, three wooden cylinders are brought out and set down followed by a tiny black candle, a match box, then a thin, dull gold coin the size of a silver dollar.
"I explained what you asked for. The dan-"
>Pausing to stare confusedly at you for several moments, Flash blinks once, ending whatever her thought was by quickly giving applying a hoof to her face.
"A shining example of not paying attention to every possible consequence when performing a temporal splice occurred.. this time I will apologize."
>Taking a deep breath, the cylinders are lifted with dim gold glows, each shaken once, then set down, a match shaken out, the candle then lit and set atop the coin.
"To correct potential and preexisting anomalies, a compartmentalization of each individual's memory directly correlating to the witnessed event must be thoroughly examined to determine what the nature and form of the anomaly is. In short terms: we would explore your physical memory of what occurred in the mansion to learn which of the clones to identify, isolate, then eliminate it before they any further progress on the temporal manipulation device's status proceeds. This will involve invading the anomalous space created by the clone's existence, effectively deleting the concept of it's existence from within. I can construct the necessary equipment required to exit, but only if I can acquire the materials necessary."
>Placing her left forehoof over the flame, Flash shoots an annoyed glance back at Krinza, then shrugs, one side of her muzzle quirking in an approximation of disgust.
"I could not learn all necessary information upon examining the memories of the other... 'human' involved. One is best served by forgetting such a corrupted being, it's mere presence was beyond vile. The knowledge of that engineer, Kraut, was instrumental in cross-referencing my audiences with the true Celestia against the clones that I have come across, especially regarding the gaps in knowledge between the clones themselves and the Princess of Sun, whom I must add has a peerless recollection. The clones share a form of communal mind, yet they do not know, and apparently are unable to know, the existence of others. They never meet, they do not acknowledge each other, nor do those following them become aware of the differences until separated for at least a week. For example, the true Celestia knew Doctor Harlon, Rhoda, and their gryphon herdmate quite well. She was likewise privy to some of their secrets, including the creation of the first translocation matrice, their work on the compound known as managel, the golem they were constructing, and the ever useful power crystals that Rhoda had developed, whom I must add was the first Crystal pony to devise them. Celestia likewise provided the three with a large amount of the materials, resources, supplies, and privacy to continue their work unhindered. I did, however, encounter one clone that recalled several of facts, though it claimed to have never met the Doctor himself. That cannot possibly be true as their logbooks recorded numerous visits from Celestia. I do not fault you nor the engineer for not knowing these discrepancies, it took myself quite some time to understand it."
>Lips pursing, the post-human swaps hooves over the flame, offering a half-heartedly grim smile.
"What I require from you is, again, the information which would allow myself, and Krinza, to positively identify the clone which spent time here. After that, I will require the aid of either, or both, yourself and Kraut to eliminate it before it can attempt any temporal violations."

>>199890

>While mapping out the route, the Crystal Ponies moved and made a path for him through their formation.
"Well alrighty then."

>Revving his engine and moving out Lont was going to shout a thanks at the Wardens, only to be cut off by the Crusader. 'Them? They? Son of a-' He thought with a tinge of annoyance. Either some vital information was not given to him or this Ward had guards. Probably the latter Lont thought.
"Got it, thanks and good luck!"

>With that thanks given the Outrider burst forward, only to slow down AGAIN when he saw what the hell was going on beyond the fourth cordon. Fear shivered his spine at the sight of the disgusting monsters, with a tiny yelp squeaked out when he saw fucking Belregard. Least he was distracted with the pony monster thing.
>'The Wards guards, ugly bastards.' he thought as he witnessed the filly attack the other monster thingie.
>He just sighed at the third abomination getting beaten by a Crystal mare. This was getting ridiculous.

>They didn't look like they needed him, besides he was ordered to find the boss of these monsters, but they were in the way and he could not see the Ward in question. 'Damn it damn it damn it.'
>Deciding what to do after cursing up a storm, Lont unholstered his Gunblade and chambered a lightning element. Taking aim he fired at one of the rear legs of the Pony Monster the filly was fighting against, hoping to stun the creature. Champion Belregard and the Mare looked like they had things under control with their fights, besides, the filly was out of the way and gave Lont a clear shot.
[1d6+2 = 5]
>B.Small Arms
[1d6+2 = 4]

>With this done he looked again for where his quarry went.
[1d6 = 5]
E.Perception
[1d6 = 1]

[1d6 = 4]

[1d6+1 = 5]
>H.E

>>199663
>As the four work themselves into advantages at his flank and blind sides, Adon sweats inwardly.
'Damn, they got me boxed in.'
>At the minotaur's inquiry, he thinks up of something imposing enough to make them hesitate for a little longer. Something to go with the setting.
>A nasty bugger from the Skelliges should do the trick.
"Ever hear of an ice wraith? It's when a lost soul dies an agonizing death in the midst of a blizzard. Transforms into a bloodthirsty spirit, kills to satiate its torment. Been going around and dragging travelers into the deep woods, a couple hours from here. Luckily for you, they won't go near fire or large groups."

>Finishing up his snow white lie of a tale, Adon looks over at the gryphon in mock disappointment.
"Can't blame an opportunist for trying. They that important?"

>>199804
"The consequences can only be understood once I have direct operational parameters. Not before. Your thoroughness is appreciated, just in the wrong order."

>Pareidolia looks on as she begins fiddling with the various objects, silently processing what she states.
>He slowly looks down and to the left trying to recall past events.

[Notable discrepancies in possible duplicate's recall. Unable to verify overall nature of the proposed threat, however contradictions are present.]

>Once she finishes, he notes:

"There were notable discrepancies given the perfect memory you state the Celestia in Canterlot has. The potential duplicate claimed she had very little knowledge of the experiments that occurred there despite knowing Harlon, Suisan, and Rhoda. In particular, she knew Harlon had expertise with temporal casting, but did not know what Rhoda or Suisan were working on. She also claimed to not know much of Arcane terminology. Claimed she knew next to nothing of chemistry and alchemy other than an experimental smoke that turned everything green, pink, and yellow for several hours."

>He looks up directly at her.

"Has the true Celestia confirmed that the Solar Tyrant is responsible for these clones and that they are an active threat? I am willing to remove artifacts, equipment, and potential hazards from the possession of this possible duplicate, but do you have proof and sanction to operate in this manner? Her abilities were significant and would make her pacification difficult."

>Tapping a boot against the floor, he adds:

"And how does the process of rectifying a temporal anomaly not violate the law of causality? If we travel through time into this anomaly in my memory and erase it, how does that not create a paradox in reality? What of the effects on everyone and everything that happened during that operation?"

[Assess and ascertain motive. Was never assigned to SERN's departments. Committee never provided any indication of their work or success. Nature of all procedures involving time operations unclear. Need to remove requisite tools into Committee purview for further review processing.]

>>199866
>Partying on into the eternal night, or whatever time Andrammalech could even fathom, a glass-laced pull of reality begins to overtake your senses while watching the great Zodiac demon, on a dare, drain an entire barrel into his maw, decades, perhaps eons fading the event into little more than dim memory.
>Words, phrases, sentences from a myriad of voices dance across your soul, lines of brightly glowing, multicolored Crystal ponies traipsing through endless fields of bare ground, snow, and ice, each searching for a home to call their own.
>Conclaves emerge from the Wastelands, forming into small, barely protected towns dug deep into packed earth and stone under the destruction posed by endless blizzards, snow, hail, and wind, thousands of families living in barely comfortable warmth, protected from the dangers above ground by thin strings of luck and understanding.
>Finally recognizing some form of consciousness, the maddening, endless stream of equinity slowly comes to a peaceful end as the chatter of a quadrillion ponies halts, the change in atmosphere shifting to dim background voices, those of familiar humans, pegasi, unicorns, and others that could, or did, exist.
>Lacking any context until the tiniest glimpse of material sets in, your senses registering comforting, warm blue tones of tightly woven cotton, staring through iced over eyes attempting to guide you back into life once more.
>Face down in an overly stuffed pony styled couch, you awaken from the unexpected eternal slumber, the ever-present cold of the Wastelands continues to threaten you, each movement of muscle fibers bringing forth a frozen, miserably real touch of existence.

>Pure Crystalline Elixir Side Effects: -1 to all Offensive & Defensive skills, suffers double damage from Fire Elementals when unarmored, Fragile target, +1DR, +1 to all Instrument & Sculpting rolls.

"You are finally awake though your skin is bitterly cold. Are you able to speak or move?"
>The soft, warm voice, distant yet close enough to feel, resonates calmly from above, the sensation of a hoof cradling your head apparent to nearly deadened senses.
>Nova Flicker, her name matching to the voice, a minuscule grasp of sanity amidst the endless oceans of frozen consciousness.
"If you cannot answer then I shall carry you to the Clinic, there is a bed prepared with a heatstone slab."

>>199896
>Momentarily tilting her head in your direction at the look, the Duchess shoots a terribly cliche mock seductive wink, raising a forehoof which, barely, covers her curious smile.
>Making a slight, reflexive nod towards the white noblemare, Amerose's teacup is lifted for a dainty sip accompanied by a brief, short hum.
"I have notified one of the Starborn Lorekeepers. When you decide to leave, Duchess, you will be given an unremarkable satchel with the proposed amount along with a number of small valuables. This could easily be explained as you collecting an up front payment on a.. ..statue, yes?"
>Pearl Lake takes a last glance at Dancing Eyes, the primal's eyes closed amidst short, breathy snores, then pushes herself off the table to stand, stretching out with a relieved noise.
"That is more than acceptable. I will do what I can to convince my mareguard to speak nothing of this case of mistaken identity, though I doubt they would even bother."
>Tipping her head to politely nod at you, then to Amerose, the white earth mare turns on hoof, pausing to raise an eyebrow while staring upwards.
"Before I do leave, a bit of information: despite rumors to the contrary, there are a few Canterlotlians that would like to aid Razorback. A vote was held at dusk in the Silver Court of Nobles, ten or so dissented from the decision to remain neutral. I will make it a point to drop by now and then to deliver the juiciest bits of information, perhaps in exchange for something from your famous chef, and of course to visit. A good night to you three and do come knock first."
>Lankily striding towards the entrance with well measured clops on the stone underhoof, then out, the robed Lorekeeper Crystal mare's eyes half-lid as she frowns in deep thought, her face tightening in surprise and horror.
"Strange, her name reminds me of a chapter I read about six years ago on one of the now destroyed Enclaves, I believe. The researchers were performing experiments related to the creation of Naghtmares, though they did not want to deal with the difficulties of necromarecy or elementalism. According to the record a 'pearl lake' was created, an artificial alchemical pool of components in which a severely injured, diseased, or otherwise dying pony is able to undergo the physical transubstantiation into a statue and from there can.. oh... oh dear."

>>199922
>Barely missing the Outrider's rear wheel, walls of gleaming Imperial crystalline shields slam into place behind you, the telltale melody of Crystal runes beginning to vibrate throughout intersection accompanied by tiny ice squares forming a dense screen.
[1d6 = 2]
<Chorus of Command: Micro-Blizzard Wall

>Well beyond the point of noticing you over his current distraction, the Ethereal Golem's shield-lance is shoved backwards from the barrage of organic weapons, flakes and chunks of the material spraying into the air, only a few barbs landing in the center of his chest.
>Out of the corner of your eye, the Champion suddenly spins about in a rough three-step promenade movement, smashing the shield-lance into the pony-creature in a purely defensive movement, a crackling grunt of effort displaying that the Golem was not feeling entirely confident at the situation.
[1d6+15 = 17]
<Counter
[1d6+15 = 21]
<M.Ethereal Lance
[1d6+15 = 18]

[1d6+15 = 16]

[1d6+15 = 17]

[1d6+15 = 19]
<Resist Damage
>vs:
[1d6+11 = 13]
<????? #1
[1d6+11 = 14]

[1d6+11 = 17]

[1d6+11 = 13]

[1d6+10 = 15]
<????? #1: Regeneration
[1d6+10 = 15]

[1d6+10 = 15]

[1d6+10 = 11]

>Clipping the pony-creature's right rear leg high up with a bolt of electricity, the second manages to shatter a chunk off it's obscenely overbuilt hooves, the thing stumbling in midstep and barely skidding to an abrupt halt.
>Although you couldn't tell what damage had been done, the eye-searing filly takes advantage of the momentarily crippling, rebounding from her crouched position towards her chosen opponent, the short-hafted spear in her rune grasp slamming into the creature's face again, both of the eyes now seized over with permafrost.
>throwing herself backwards in another bounce, though not before humorously shouting in an eerily double-toned, youthful filly's voice, a hoof is pointed northwards briefly.
"This one's mine human, go help out Tacit!"
[1d6+7 = 13]
<Lunge
[1d6+6 = 10]
<E.Assault
[1d6+6 = 8]

[1d6+6 = 7]

[1d6+2 = 3]
<Frostcrack
[1d6+2 = 7]
<E.Crystal Runes: Pull
[1d6+2 = 7]

[1d6+2 = 7]

>vs:
[1d6+6 = 11]
<????? #2: Regeneration
[1d6+6 = 8]

[1d6+6 = 8]

[1d6+6 = 11]

>Behind Champion Belregard, the unarmored Crystal mare was either unphased or unimpressed by the pony-creature's organic weapons gouging small chunks of crystal from the upper front half of her body, snapping her entire body forwards in a sideways whiplash movement to drive both knees into the downed creature's throat.
>All the while the Crystal colt could be heard cheering even louder somewhere to the north as the creature's appendages seize hold of the mare's head, violently wrenching sideways as if to snap her neck.
[1d6+13 = 15]
<M.Assault: Crushing Blows
[1d6+13 = 14]

[1d6+13 = 18]

[1d6+13 = 19]

[1d6+8 = 13]
<Resist Damage
[1d6+8 = 11]

[1d6+8 = 10]

[1d6+8 = 10]

>vs:
[1d6+15 = 21]
<????? #3
[1d6+15 = 18]

[1d6+15 = 18]

[1d6+15 = 18]

[1d6+9 = 15]
<????? #3: Regeneration
[1d6+9 = 15]

[1d6+9 = 11]

[1d6+9 = 13]

>Previously unseen until entering the blocked off intersection, the north, east, and west alleys had been walled off by giant, jagged sheets of ice connecting from building to building, as you survey the scene another shocking surprise comes into view:
>The ever familiar, barbarically muscled dim red form of Tacit, bearing little more than a furious snarl across his face and covered in numerous deep cuts across his coat was currently locked in a potentially losing life-or-death struggle against a brilliantly coated, half-clear turqoise and aquamarine Ward.
>The stallion's earth pony brutality was on full display now, his teeth clamped onto the mare's horn and visibly doing his best to snap it off with a tremendous head shaking motion, once akin to that of a wild warg throwing a small basilisk around; above the two, the mare's Crystal Rune control was having great difficulty matching a quartet of oversized crystalline spear heads against an equal number of painfully bright green copies above, the telltale scent of scorched psionic ozone blatantly apparent.
[1d6+19 = 23]
<Grandmaster Assault
[1d6+19 = 24]

[1d6+19 = 22]

[1d6+19 = 23]

[1d6+19 = 24]

[1d6+19 = 20]

[1d6+15 = 21]
<M.Psion: Crushing Force
[1d6+15 = 16]

[1d6+15 = 21]

[1d6+15 = 20]

[1d6+9 = 14]
<M.Reaction Speed
[1d6+9 = 12]

[1d6+9 = 11]

[1d6+9 = 15]

[1d6+8 = 14]
<B.Resist Damage
[1d6+8 = 9]

>vs:
[1d6+14 = 18]
<M.Crystal Runes: Control
[1d6+14 = 17]

[1d6+14 = 15]

[1d6+14 = 18]

[1d6+12 = 14]
<Ward Regeneration
[1d6+12 = 17]

[1d6+12 = 14]

[1d6+12 = 15]

[1d6+9 = 10]
<M.Assault
[1d6+9 = 14]

[1d6+9 = 13]

[1d6+9 = 13]

[1d6+3 = 8]
<B.Resist Damage
[1d6+3 = 5]

>Nearly missing the last detail you could pay attention to at moment, the shredded corpse of another pony-creature lies steaming in front of the north wall of ice, most of its appendages torn off around the body, the head and barrel crushed into paste, though still faintly glowing a lustrous Ethereal pink.

>>199954
"Yet another hazard poorly explained by my Order. I have spent multiple lifetimes in temporal castigation, need to reverse this state of affairs before it becomes worse."
>Emitting a short, self-derogatory huff, Flash continues warming her hoof, or at least that's what it appears to be until reaching up to touch the pendant, muttering a calm, repeating phrase in a solemn, intoning dialect that sounded like a cross between ancient true Latin and.. binary?
[1d6 = 5]
<Black Candle

>Placing both of her front hooves down, the medieval clothed mare slowly exhales, yellow eyes narrowing as she lifts her head.
"All of which is likewise impossible. Princess Celestia is a renowned alchemist known across this entire world. Save for Princess Cadence and perhaps Princess Luna, her knowledge is well beyond that of every other alchemist currently alive. As for the last part it was explained to me that was a prank during the early stages of constructing Old Canterlot. Many of the Solar royalty could not decide upon which stone the walls were to be of and so Celestia prepared a large amount of combined mane coloration mixtures to throw them off."
>Caught between nodding and shaking her head, the post-human's right eyebrow raises, the left lowering as she frowns thoughtfully.
"Not quite, no. From what I have pieced together about it's motives, the Solar Tyrant, more correctly, the Dark Side of the Sun, was forced from Princess Celestia's psyche some eighty to ninety years ago into a multitude of sunglobes. Even with the most optimistic theory that would never have fully contained the full power of a deity such as it. All of Razorback, including myself, met the true Princess Celestia at the train station in Canterlot and were given our first task then. It is impossible to understate her... purity, I suppose, merely being in her presence is akin to that of stepping foot into a Tallus Leyline, or a sanctum dedicated to the worship of an alicorn. During my third meeting with Princess Celestia she did mention that she kept the most coherent fragment of the Solar Tyrant and used it as a backup to speak for her when she was otherwise occupied. I have little doubt that was the one which deflagrated Canterlot Castle with a plasma-based storm. In order to do so it drew upon the many sunglobes contained therein, coalescing the Solar Tyrant's fragmented psyches and erstwhile energy reserves together within that one clone. As for sanction-"
>Glancing down at the black candle burning much quicker, Flash's face softens, reaching up to rub under her horn while giving you a morbidly pensive gaze.
"Essentially.. yes. Princess Celestia warned me to deal with the clones in a most discreet manner for three reasons:"
"One, preventing the Canterlot royalty from committing any more delaying actions on both the Canterlot Treaty and rebuilding the Palance, otherwise they could accuse her of sedition against her own laws, or perhaps even accusing her of plotting to ally with Stalliongrad, which, while that could be quickly disproven, potentially may be rather damaging in the long term."
"Second, I have directly verified that perhaps twenty sunglobes were not inhabited by the Solar Tyrant's fractured pscyhe. As you may know, Princess Celestia gifted several hundred of them to Stalliongrad approximately eighty years ago during a period in which the Councilierge sought to rebuild their ties to mainland Equestria. A political disaster in the waiting, as it were."
"Third, that knowledge of how she dealt with the Solar Tyrant would be quickly derided. The royalty would call into question not only her authority, but her unalienable right to rule and the laws she has devised throughout the past thousand years. I need not explain how much damage this would cause were it to be known publicly."
>Eyebrows furrowing together at the questions, Flash remains still for five seconds, then throws her head back, snorting loudly before falling onto the floor sideways, devolving into peals of giggling laughter.

>Standing up from in front of the work table, Krinza's eyes roll, spinning about and leaping up next to his anvil, head turning towards you with a barely contained expression of mirth.
"This much I can mostly answer. Causality on Tallus is not a looping circle where all events must be placed in an orderly fashion. Where, and not when, a gap appears in the timeline it remains in that gap state until 'filled', spliced, deleted, or corrected. Think of this as nicks or gouges in a blade rather than whole slices missing instead of making the whole blade itself useless. Not only that, I do not think Miss Flash intends to 'erase' the memory of your interaction, rather it seems she means to observe the peculiarities of the... clone which has been here, in order to better identify it. If that were the case-"
>Sitting down and poking his chest with a hoof, then waving said hoof in a 180 circle, indicating the rest of the Workshop, but most likely the Fortress as a whole.
"Everything here and much across Equestria would change, which would not be the ideal scenario. As Miss Flash stated and Spiral's notes agree, attempting to correct temporal flaws without the proper knowledge would be disastrous beyond comparison. Instead, I believe that her overall intention is to prevent this 'clone' from performing any temporal alternations before it would be capable of doing so."
>Pausing to rub his snout briefly, the black and yellow unicorn cocks his head in your direction, lips creasing into contemplative lines as the dull gold mare continues writhing in laughter.
"I do not mean to state that Miss Flash is one hundred percent correct, though she may be more right than she knows. Have there been any new notices for sale on the bulletin board or elsewhere? In particular I am now quite interested in pinksteel, void-flux, Grim-Thane, and perhaps even the most curious of banned weaponry, those with the Bane enchantment."

(((Humans))) are an abomination and a menace to all of Equestria. Sieg fucking heil, Ungeziefer.

>>200134 funny way to say (((unicorns)))

Do we look like Judens

>>200134
#notallhumans mkay?

>>200135
Ja sie do. Now getten back into zee shower.

>>200137
>>200135
Nein. All (((humans))) are pests vat needs to be exterminated

>>200013
>Unlike a ball of yarn in a Moor cat's paws, the seal was certainly not unraveling; to the contrary her smile deepens, becoming the most sincere expression of sealish merriment at being acknowledged, snuggling back into Shanis with the innocently comfortable aplomb that only one with no obligations, or expectations really, could have.
>The Mercenary Queen meanwhile was not denying the case for seal legitimacy, black suited legs tightening their grasp around the young pinniped, almost as if Shanis were daring anypony watching to be jealous.
>Of course, there was jealousy, and then there was snuggling, the second happening to be almost as important to pegasi as sleep.

>One crystalline fuschia eye rolls up to you, a hoof lifting in a stiffly formal greeting, then focuses to the side as the scar-covered Crystal mare directs a stack of neatly refolded carpets off to the closest couch, her low tone flatly annoyed, yet the mood didn't seem to be directed at you.
"And here Thrill thinks I sleep more than necessary, what I wouldn't give to lie in bed half the night just once a week.. anyway, can I help you with something else?"

>>200141
>>200013
>Jeff naps for some time, with Tipper's upper body gently resting on his shirted midsection.
>But he never gets any meaningful rest. He's downright restless.
>For once in quite a while, he couldn't bring himself to lazily nap like a bat.
>In fact, he really didn't feel anything bat-like any more.
>He just looks up at the pagoda's ceiling, starring through creased eyelids as he takes the last hour or so in.
'I just literally came back from a spa, and I already need another vacation.'
>Sighing quietly, Jeff lifts his head up and peaks his eyes open to look around to see a white pegasus with brown mane enter the pagoda.
>Does he know her?
>Oh, cute. She's wearing an eyepatch like a little badass.
>As well as Shanis being up from her nap, and having something small and white cornered.
>Being quiet, and gentle, Jeff slowly wiggles himself off of Tipper's weight and onto a sitting position on the couch before rising and casually greeting the queen of Tartarus Isle.
>This will be be good, in fact. He can ask her about Foggy.
"Hey Shanis. Hi... new pegasus."
>Jeff peaks over to see whatever Shanis had pinned.
"Since you're up... is that a... seal?"

>>200120
>Even though you lacked a great deal of personal knowledge on batponies, the outrageously silent, still atmosphere across the Wharf simply did not make sense.
>As a species they were either hyper-lazy, incapable of being still for longer than a few seconds, constantly chattering to each other, anyone, and anypony in their vicinity that they felt needed to be talked to, or constantly devising new schemes, puns, and tricks to prank others with.
>Except for the few oddities that were routinely motivated, the few in the Fortress that you could immediately recall were always in one of those four states, which made the scene of several hundred mixed batponies and pegasi stock still, barely daring to breath, even more surreal.

>The trio of archaic batponies maintain their lethal dance of wingclaws, hooves, and teeth for a handful of seconds until the Rest and the unnamed mare finally knock Soft-Kill down onto her knees, turning to focus on each other with the intensity of a hungry pony attacking a newly discovered ungrazed lawn.
>Barely seen, Soft-Kill's head shakes briefly, the mare's wings coiled above her head tightly as she leaps back into the fray front hooves first, diving at Rest with a vibrating hiss.
[1d6 = 6]
<Soft-Kill
[1d6 = 4]
<?????
[1d6 = 2]
<Rest

>The tiny Wild on screen takes on a greatly confused look, staring down at you for an uncomfortably long time until speaking up, the right armored index finger making a quick shaking motion while the Eldritch Android's armored boots thumping on sand slower now.
"Current speed reduced to thirty miles per hour due to difficult terrain. Natilda, I do not know what you are referring to; your information has been logged and will undergo categorization. Analysis of potential dangers related to the consumption of equine biomatter: sixth tertiary priority. Maximum suggested consumption limit of equine organic biomatter and fluids: eight ounces per thirty hour cycle until otherwise noted."
>Returning back into caricature mode, She That Must Cease Inserting Those Into That Place There sketches a schematic of what you takes to be an overly large bomb shell in the center of a mock city denoted by a 20 kilometer by 20 kilometer grid, a black spot in the center quickly surrounded by a dark red ring, then progressively lighter, wider rings until a roughly 15 kilometer sphere is deleted.
"Level 2 catastrophic damage followed by unknown long term contamination. The force caused by detonation of small nuclear weaponry is measured in tons of trinitrocellulose, known by humans as TNT. The smallest feasible nuclear bomb is equivalent to ten tons of TNT. Reference: this amount would delete an Equestrian town approximately seven point-five times the current radius of Razorback Fortress. Estimate of medium scale variants: approximate destruction radius of forty kilometers. No further extrapolations possible at this time. Do not worry, I will examine all possible scenarios to prevent the completion of this form of weaponry."
>Placing the corrected map back on display, a bright blue dot appears on the edge with small text over it: 'Current Location', the right side view screen comes back online with a static crackle, showing a much clearer image of the long, ash-covered coastline, the vague treeline still little more than large, burnt match sticks.
"Map updated. Optical Unit Six fully restored, now performing additional long ranged scans. Natilda, please designate only one of the following three priority secondary functions to restore: communications, life support, air conditioning."
[1d6 = 6]
<Arcanum Sensors Array

>>199929

>Now surrounded, the two Gryphons eased their weapons slightly as Adon talked while the Minotaur, whom sounded uncomfortably close, snorted incredulously. On the other hand the Unicorn took interest in what he was saying, then with eyes narrowed she glared at one the catbirds then back to the Witcher. "Told ya there were spirits here."

>"Shut yer trap pony!" Scowled the Gryphon, focus not leaving the human in their midsts. The other catbird, the one Adon was talking to tilted his head to one side, beaked face suspicious. "They are, client pays good." A grunt of approval came from behind Adon as the Minotaur split his attention between the Witcher and the surrounding forest.

>Another glance at the tied slaved showed Adon that the Chiqtu was cutting away at the rope still, the material having to be thick and good quality to take so long.
[1d6+1 = 6]
>Sharpness
[1d6 = 5]
>Poking

>"They might give some extra for a human too." Said the other Gryphon. "Oh indeed~" Agreed the Unicorn, the magic surrounding her horn growing brighter as she stepped forward.

Event
[1d2 = 2]
>2

>>200158
>Did this car just sass me.
>I think it sassed me.
"Okay... So its a bomb. A very, very big bomb. I can understand that, even if I have the feeling its a very big over... simplification?"
>I think that's right.
"I'm pretty sure we don't have nuclear weapons, though with all of the weapons I've seen other humans carrying around..."
>Like whatever assault rifles were.
>Watching the new screen for a moment, I debated on what would be most important.
>'Communications would need a high priority... but it would probably be better to have life support. I can handle being hot.'
"Жизненная поддержка."
>Letting out a cough, I shook my head.
"Life support. I'm no good to you dead."
>After letting Wild know, I stared at the lifeless landscape.
"Wild... Would a nuclear bomb do this to a forest?"

>>200106

https://youtu.be/xXLGP19anWU

>'Well, no turning back now. Literally.' He thought morosely as the cordon closed ranks behind him, even setting up a magical barrier.

>Lont winced at seeing the Ethereal being forced to defend himself, these pony abominations were dangerous. A grim picture of clarity went through his mind at how the third cordon was so decimated.
>Oh and the filly didn't need his help anyway, out of the three combats going on. His frustration for the strange world he was in subsided when he was told to help-
"Tacit?"

>Snapping his head left and right he looked for the Earth pony, registering the ice walls before seeing the struggling stallion. And there, horn being chewed on was the mare he was looking for.
>Lont did not know much about her, but from her guards and the reputation of the Wards' inner circle, he could put two-and-two together as where the pony monsters came from. 'Reason enough for her death.'
>His target was there, distracted and engaged, the stench of psion was in the air. Tacit was losing, and he was on a motorbike.
>'No'. He reasoned, by the time he would of reached her she would of gotten out of the way, possibly even throwing Tacit in the way of his wheels.

>With military precision Lont holstered his Gunblade in favour for his Spiker, loading it with Livermorium darts. Tacits' head was too close to hers, so instead Lont took aim for the Wards' neck.
[1d6 = 3]
>E.Perception
[1d6+3 = 4]
>Thermal
[1d6 = 5]

[1d6+1 = 2]
>H.E

[1d6+4 = 5]
>E.Shotgun +Heavy Shotgun
[1d6+4 = 8]

[1d6+4 = 10]

>>200106

>>200169
>If Wild Ride could read your thoughts, the tiny cartoon version of her on screen staring down would be more smug than visibly concerned.
>Or, maybe, JUST maybe, it was a tiny blotch of smugness on top of concern.
>Somehow you felt that wasn't the case, especially since Wild was barely over six hours old.

>Slowing once more, the Android turns to face the ocean, tilting backwards to present a better view of great ash swaths drifting to the shoreline on small waves, then faces west and returns to her previous plodding speed.
"Rough calculation: a two-hundred pound nuclear bomb is equivalent to eight-thousand of my 30 millimeter shells-"
>Lifting the essentially useless massive semi-automatic pistol into view.
"Or approximately five hundred standard two-hundred and fifty pound bombs. I agree with the simplification as I have little hard data available, but I will attempt to ensure full compliance with my protocols."
>Emitting an acknowledging beep, a number of cracking sounds in other cabins occur while the rattling air conditioning unit shuts down.. at least the temperature wouldn't likely increase for a while.
"Necessary replacement components and backups scavenged, initiating repairs."
[1d6+4 = 9]
<Grade 1 Auto-Repair

>Twisting to the right and providing a full examination of the torched forest, Wild's considerably more quiet, normal voice fills the cabin from a single speaker above.
"No, all forms of small flora within the blast radius would be scorched or vaporized, trees would be lying flat, stone would be melted. The bipedal Primeval being is responsible for starting this. Extrapolation: large amounts of dry undergrowth created additional fuel sources which caused a full burn to the trees we are seeing now."
>A curious beep occurs from the right screen, the Android turning left to focus once more on the beach line.
"Natilda, I have detected potential salvage four-hundred and sixty meters west, sixty meters south... underwater? Primary materials identified: copper, bronze, iron, steel, Lumin. Secondary materials identified: silver, gold, platinum, marble. There are eleven additional materials that I am unable to identify. Your orders?"

>>200131
>Pareidolia eyes the ritual with minimal interest.

[Probable religious significance.]

>He holds his hand under his chin, pressing his arm against his suit tac vest. Nodding slowly as she explains her unique position with Celestia.

[Initial assessment was correct. Delicate political situation prevents open action. Active confirmed threat. Resulting political climate would hinder the Protocol. Current climate preferable. Grounds for action acceptable.]

>Folding his arms once more and shrugging as the Inquisitor rolls on the floor, he looks over the Krinza.

[Lacks sensible protocol accommodation for other forms of universes and laws. Inflexible. Disappointing.]

"Your explanation is appreciated. The physical laws of my world and many others differ substantially. Time is a fundamental in many of them and the same rules may not generalize."

>He glances over to Flash and shakes his head.

"As far as I know, there have been no notices of material sales of any kind on the bulletin board. I have a pinksteel dagger acquired from the mansion-"

>He undoes a flap on the front of his vest, removing the dagger from it's sheath to briefly show the blade.

"-that you could attempt to mould."

>Stepping towards Flash, he stands with his boots clearly in view of her face.

"If this one will specify an operational time frame, I will know if you have time to mould it and if I have time to address some personal affairs beforehand."

>>200141
>>200147
>There was the seal, Shanis, a human she didn't know, which she greeted in return and... Doctor Tipper.
>Wasn't she just...?
>Sunny stopped for a moment and looked around in abject confusion, her missing sense of time coming back to her like a wave crashing on the shore.
"Hang on... Did it really take me an hour to walk over here from the Clinic?"
>The mare physically turned, looking back the way she came. It wasn't even that great a distance, how had she spent an hour ambling along, she could have sworn it was just a short walk.
>Her brow furrowed.
>It wasn't as if she could chalk it up to some form of temporal anomaly. Most likely her rapidly deteriorating grip on reality. She'd need to do something about it. Soon.
"...Yes, I'm hoping to trade these contracts from the Hive to you for another courier job, assuming you still have things that need to be collected."
>She rummaged around in her saddlepack for the relevant contracts, uncovering a little brown envelope.
>What was...?
>Oh.
>Oh!
"And uh, I forgot to give you this. From Late Pepper."
>Sunny extended her wing to Naliyna, the brown envelope resting on her pinions.

>>199223
>After Roust snaps off the connection, I look forwards towards the enemy lines that we are fast approaching.
>I certainly hope so, Roust.
>I really do.

>I open the mental connection to my strikers.
(Strikers! I need your aid with helping the brave lieutenant out! Recover the wounded and give them and the Knight-General some cover, if you would please!)
Order Given- Claim Wounded!
Order Given- Northern Shield! x2
>I wish I didn't have to push them so hard, but the situation is as it is.
>A spare apology is given to the dead who I realized were being killed far too early in the fight.
>I didn't mean for them to...
>Ah well, what's done is done.

>I stare up at the golem, gawking at it's size.
>Well, it'll certainly turn the tides.
>I don't know much that can stand up to (at a guess) 10 tons of solid cobble smacking into them.
>Maybe a tank? Or Roust?
>But no time to dally with spare thoughts.
>Listening to the strikers, I snap open a mental connection to Denra.
>'Hey Denra, I'm sorry for dragging you into this, but if you wouldn't mind just...not making the golem into something so incredibly...ah, detailed? They're kind of incredibly opposed to the idea in the first place and I would VERY much not like if the ponies i'm trying to get out at the moment decided to create ANOTHER civil war. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm afraid that continuing to build that golem especially now will make this hugely fucked situation even worse than it is now.'
>Sighing, I begin to speak to my strikers once more.
(I'm sorry, Strikers, I should have listened earlier. I didn't want to chance the Void Portal, as it wasn't something that was guaranteed to help us and luck is ever the fickle mistress. I take full responsibility for what he's done and will atone after everyone is safe, if you will help me until then.)
>Hopefully that will help.

>I ask him not to panic, and what does he do, he panics.
>I'd be mad about it but currently I am rueing the moment that I decided to drink the whole goddamn bottle.
>mfw
>Sighing, I stare headlong into the mass of ponies we're still en route to.
(You will not turn into undead as long as I still draw breath; I will not allow it. Is there any change in the movement from the Vigilites? They are not a force I want to be in the dark about.)
[1d6+3 = 7]
>U. Negotiation
>...and on second thought, why am I not shooting them?
>I bring my MG up to my shoulder, and aim at the enemy lines we are approaching.
>Lining up the target as BEST I can without my actual eyes, I release accurate bursts, as best I can, at least.
Fire on my Target marked!
[1d6+13 = 14]
>Master H. Weapons
[1d6+13 = 17]

[1d6+13 = 15]

[1d6+13 = 17]

[1d6+13 = 19]
>Master Suppression Fire
[1d6+13 = 14]

[1d6+13 = 17]

[1d6+13 = 14]
>Killing Pace