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/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

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01876 No.93187[Last 50 Posts]

>If you would like to join, make a sensible loadout here at:
>And if you want to bring in something special or not on the list, ask to shop it in.

>When you're done, read over the Operator's Handbook:


>Or the Hoofbook if you wanna be a pony:


>Then jump into our IRC chat, #OiE on esper.net server or use:


>Overall Pastebin:


>Fortress Map:


>Bulletin Board:


>Last Thread before moving offsite:

>Offsite #OiE Collation:
>Offsite Gryphon Lands Collation:

Welcome back, pony cowboys.

9b166 No.93188

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


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…..

7b7d5 No.93194

70bfa No.93195

I hate FOE series so this is good news for me

4722d No.93196

d4c28 No.93197

Uhmm.. what am I looking at?

f245d No.93198

f245d No.93199


6de14 No.93217

659d6 No.93233

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

d4c28 No.93236

Sounds interesting.

55b82 No.93282

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

01876 No.93338

"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."

01876 No.93339

>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."

01876 No.93341

>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."

01876 No.93372

>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."


>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?"

1efe4 No.93418

"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?"

99fef No.93992

>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…
>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."

9a2ba No.94015

>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."
>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.

fa987 No.94129


>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.

8c0de No.94467

308b5 No.94521


>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."

01876 No.95600

Where does Bubba wander to now?
1d64 <Location
1d6+12 + 1 = 3 <kekeke

01876 No.96625

>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.

9a2ba No.96643

>He'll definitely come back around here… provided he doesn't end up getting introduced to the more degenerate mares.

>"How long was I in Cho's shack, again?"

>After a moment, Bubba just shrugs and finds a place to watch the mares fight it out, only taking quick looks at the hideously bright red mare because it hurt his eyes if he looked at her long enough.
>… And once he gets back to Razorback he might touch up on his batpony knowledge. For, y'know, science.

01876 No.96656

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

01876 No.96662

>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."

01876 No.96663

>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."

34888 No.96664

>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.

01876 No.96669

>Registering the command to leave it's current orbit in pursuit, the M-S.O.L.G.'s aperture camera makes a brief shaking motion, then is otherwise still.
>Lines of code scroll down the right side of the helmet's internal screen, none of which meant anything to you save for two small notations at the bottom: the exterior pressure was not only low, it was entirely composed of H2O.
>The second one was an inability to maneuver more than one degree per five seconds nor reinitiate it's thrusters, leading to the satellite querying whether it should attempt further movement.

>Comfortably lazing on the platform, for once not being bombarded by pegasi trying to eat Twisted's hay, or worse, cook on the heatstones strategically placed underneath each pile, the lens focuses in further on the conflict.

>The silver vessel was still continuing it's direct course into the Construct mothership, it's range counter ticking upwards rapidly while sustaining increasingly more accurate small plasma cannon fire, the glow from the larger weapons fading, presumably due to limited firing arcs intended for ship-to-Eldritch combat, or more likely, planetary bombardment.
>The vast majority of orange weapon fire ceases as a final double burst of white from the rear of the vessel coincides with it ramming into the mothership's hull, though at this range the M-S.O.L.G.'s lens was barely able to focus in far enough for a visual confirmation that the Construct ship was indeed pitching upwards, though at a considerably slow rate.
>Minutes tick by as the mothership finally ceases it's nose-up pitch, then the entire exterior surface brightens, multiple gigantic bay doors opening to disgorge streams of orange dots outwards, soon homing in on and covering the entire vessel.

01876 No.96670

>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[ 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."

01876 No.96677

>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."

>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."

01876 No.96685

>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?"

99fef No.96757

>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."

01876 No.96866

"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.

01876 No.96867

>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."

1efe4 No.96876

"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[ 1d6+4 = 6 ]<M.Research: Surgical Analysis
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ]
1d6+4[ 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[ 1d6+4 = 10 ]<M.Physician
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]<Lead Mare's Surgical Tool Set
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]<Juan's Surgical Tool Set
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ]<Clinic Supplies
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 25 ]<Surgical Suite

9a2ba No.96888

>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.

01876 No.96903

>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."

01876 No.96918

>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.

>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?!"

9a2ba No.96929

>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."

015bf No.96957

"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

1efe4 No.97102

>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."

b2061 No.97109


>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.

01876 No.97111

>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.
>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.""

99fef No.97201

>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
>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.


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

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 11 ] < Alchemy Lab

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


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

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ] < Alchemy Lab

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


>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[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] < E. Alchemy
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ] < Alchemy Lab

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


99fef No.97205

>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.


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

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ] < Alchemy Lab

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


1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] < E. Alchemy
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 12 ] < Alchemy Lab

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


99fef No.97208


>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.


1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ] < E. Alchemy
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 8 ] < Alchemy Lab

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


>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…"

89497 No.97613

>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
>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!"]

ec90d No.98014

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.

1efe4 No.98148

>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."

02204 No.98377

1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ]

02204 No.98383


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

1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] E.Perception
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 4 ] >H.E

02204 No.98385


>Garnering attention, now that a dressed up Chiqtu was riding his shoulder, Adon felt like he was back in the Overkings' palace with how passing Gryphons turned their heads to gawk. For its part the fluffball remained as calm as possible, even though its shaking were felt through Adons armour.

>Looking at it for an explanation the Chiqtu pantomimed its little heart out but Adon could not decipher what it was trying to say about when it will be freed from the suit.

>Following the direction that led him out of the Vale and towards the one specific mountain brought the Witcher into a small fortified outpost filled with camping Militia Gryphons, many not batting an eye at him.

>At the far side of the outpost lay an erected wall, that had a barred and locked gate guarded by several heavily armed catbirds.

1efe4 No.99373

>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.

b4556 No.101049


>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.

8e94a No.101492

>no tec 9 to go with my sawed off double barrel

1efe4 No.101572

>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?"

a1c79 No.105481


>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.

>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."

01876 No.110297

Numerous technical difficulties have occurred. A decision has to be made in extremis without the potential for undue interference, so, our hopes now rest upon the RNG Alicorn benevolence, May She Ever Be Merciful, Kind, & Wise. And not fuck this up too horribly like the last time.
1d3[ 1d3 = 1 ]

b7285 No.148755


6afe4 No.148771

UwU whats this?

015bf No.148877

>"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."

210da No.150864

File: 1527920473413.jpg (38.95 KB, 541x403, Dank_0397df_5623546[1].jpg)

ce74d No.153590

>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."

b9376 No.153665

Blitzkrieg who?

eb309 No.155142


"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.

ce74d No.156346

>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."

a8040 No.156667


>And so the little Chiqtu did, its metal plating muffled by the foot deep snow. Despite being buried in it and having white fur, Adon was able to follow it easily as he was lead down the mountain by using long and narrow routes only it seemed to know of. Perhaps this was how it escaped and entered the Vale without being eaten.

>Four hours later of climbing down natural grooves between snow covered slabs of rock the Witcher found thin softwood trees spreading out before him, surrounded by impassible mountainsides. He was at the bottom, the Chiqtu had led him down a shortcut right to sea level.
>Speaking of which, he felt the fuzzball climb up his clothing back onto his shoulder, where it pointed into the forest.
>And above that, and the encompassing mountain range, was the destination, still appearing large and blue, but closer than before.

1efe4 No.163471


>And so the little Chiqtu did, its metal plating muffled by the foot deep snow. Despite being buried in it and having white fur, Adon was able to follow it easily as he was lead down the mountain by using long and narrow routes only it seemed to know of. Perhaps this was how it escaped and entered the Vale without being eaten.

>Four hours later of climbing down natural grooves between snow covered slabs of rock the Witcher found thin softwood trees spreading out before him, surrounded by impassible mountainsides. He was at the bottom, the Chiqtu had led him down a shortcut right to sea level.
>Speaking of which, he felt the fuzzball climb up his clothing back onto his shoulder, where it pointed into the forest.
>And above that, and the encompassing mountain range, was the destination, still appearing large and blue, but closer than before.

a8040 No.163579

File: 1533415685675.jpg (2.95 MB, 3680x2760, 1533415685675.jpg)


>The Chiqtu jumped off Adons shoulder and into the snow covered ground, where it landed the Witcher saw there was a layer of solid grass underneath the blanket of white.

>It roamed ahead, though not too far for him to lose track of it.
>Observing his environment as he marched through the snow he soon saw that, wildlife wise, there was next to nothing. Apart from some small chirping birds that were no doubt migrating, larger fauna was non-existent in this sequestered wood.
>All in all, it made the trip dull for a while.
>Until the Chiqtu burst out of the snow squeaking at Adon, a limb pointing in the direction they were heading.
>Thick smoke wafted from between the softwood trees two dozen metres ahead, the faint sound of audible speech was heard also when he focused.

1efe4 No.163853

"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.
>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[ 1d6 = 3 ] <U.Stealth
>And slowly rounds the smoke, from a safe distance to observe.
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <B.Perception
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ]

a8040 No.164075



>Kneeling down Adon concentrated, brow knitting together as he thought really really hard for the magic to happen. And to an extend it did, he felt through his armour and chilled flesh the sensation of silk running across his form. Eyes snapping open he found himself semi-transparent with what noise he made dulled.

>Looking back at the Chiqtu the Witcher saw it was borrowing deeper into the snow.
>Whatever worked for it…
>As he moved he noted the snow underfoot were not as disturbed as they should of been, defying known laws of physics.

>Keeping low the Witcher observed four individuals around a bonfire with flames reaching higher than the tallest of them, which was something.

>There were two Gryphons in unrecognisable scrapped together armour, a pony with a single horn jutting out of its head -A UNICORN!- And large humanoid with its upper body being that of a bull.
>They were conversing with each other, weapons close by but not at the ready.
>What caught Adon by surprise was they were not alone, twenty creatures were bound together and tied to one of the rare hardwood trees that populated this forest.
>There were a few Gryphons but the rest were equines. And from what he could hear, the captors were discussing on eating one. Joking maybe.
>Adon felt the Chiqtu tug at him, wanting his attention.

400f7 No.198005

>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."

"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.

400f7 No.198012

>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.

400f7 No.198013

"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[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Rest
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Soft-Kill
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <?????

400f7 No.198018

>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!"

fa987 No.198030

File: 1547288001403.jpg (50.55 KB, 278x275, .....1.jpg)

>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.]

39d1d No.198083

>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[ 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?"

39d1d No.198085

>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.

dc7f5 No.198157

>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.

4db38 No.198288


>Adon double downs and…didn't get the result he wished for. It felt as if a full layer of the magical invisibility had slid off his form and melted back into the air, leaving him more exposed than before. The little Chiqtu facepalmed at this poor attempt, though the slavers did not notice this blunder thankfully.

>Looking intently at the unicorn for a moment, the Chiqtu shook its tiny puffy head. Not the right one it seemed. Then pointing towards the bound and huddled together captives the fuzzball gave Adon a quizzical look.
>It seemed the little bugger was concerned for them.

39d1d No.198297

>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[ 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.

8667c No.198491


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

39d1d No.198502

>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."

400f7 No.199122

>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."

400f7 No.199124

>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?"

400f7 No.199144

(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.

400f7 No.199145

>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?"

400f7 No.199149

>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!"

b8f51 No.199158


>Bent double over to hide his true height Adon approached the Slavers, carelessly kicking up snow as he trudged towards them.

>That did the trick, all of them snapped their heads at the Witcher, conversations stopped and idle weapons raised. "Who're you?!" One of the Gryphons shouted, his wings raised defensively.

>The shouting had roused the captives from their collective stupor, they all muttering to themselves in their own tongues as they stared at the Witcher in disbelief.
>"A human." Grumbled the Minotaur, whom had hefted his large studded stone club onto his broad shoulder. "An' a witch too." Said the Unicorn, her features alight with wicked curiosity.
>They as one moved away from each other, and from experience Adon knew they were going to encircle him. Glancing towards the prisoners he saw they were still mumbling to themselves, but intently watching what was happening. And there, at the base of the hardwood was the Chiqtu, looking up from its snow tunnel at the single thick rope that tied all the slaves to the tree.

39d1d No.199182

'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.

400f7 No.199183

>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.

>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.

400f7 No.199190

>Continued from:

>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[ 1d6+3 = 9 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ] <B.Recovery, weakened due to prior Operation
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 11 ] <Psion Healers
1d6+9[ 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[ 1d6+60 = 63 ]
1d6+60[ 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[ 1d6+50 = 54 ] <Phantasm Blade
1d6+50[ 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

>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[ 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.
1d6[ 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[ 1d6+7 = 13 ]
1d6+2[ 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[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]
1d6+8[ 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[ 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!?)

400f7 No.199191

1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 36 ] <Grandmaster Crusade
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 31 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 33 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 31 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 31 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 35 ]

47585 No.199202

File: 1547862021167.jpg (69.79 KB, 456x661, they told me the war would….jpg)

>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.
>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?
>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.

99fef No.199203

File: 1547862635225.jpg (11.22 KB, 257x221, Bottled_Light.jpg)


>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.

400f7 No.199223

>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[ 1d6+6 = 9 ] <Death or Glory: Charge
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 11 ]
1d6+6[ 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[ 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[ 1d6+9 = 14 ] <Enforced Tactic: Charge
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 14 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 14 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 14 ]

1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 12 ] <Master-Lieutenant Stone Crest
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ] <Moderatis Lancers
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 12 ] <Captain Stranded Wave
1d6+4[ 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[ 1d6+30 = 32 ] <Northern Shield
1d6[ 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[ 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[ 1d6+60 = 62 ] <Phantasm Sunder
1d6+60[ 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[ 1d6+30 = 36 ] <Grandmaster Crusade
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 32 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 34 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 36 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 36 ]
1d6+30[ 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[ 1d6+19 = 23 ] <Primus Wandering Steps: Close Range Tactics
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ] <Tarusian Crest Regiment: Close Range Tactics
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 14 ] <Brute Kantred: Close Range Tactics
1d6+13[ 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!)

400f7 No.199225

>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?"

99fef No.199238

File: 1547876704163.gif (115.09 KB, 333x333, 1474395059610.gif)


>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.

fa987 No.199271

[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?]

400f7 No.199284

>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."

99fef No.199286

File: 1547914031254.png (199.96 KB, 494x469, 1241185.png)

>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."

400f7 No.199290

File: 1547915431874.jpg (8.25 KB, 236x261, Rosette.jpg)

>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."

b316f No.199291

File: 1547915475047.jpg (2.83 MB, 1920x1909, YEETUS MAXIMUS.jpg)


>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
>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."]

400f7 No.199341

>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."

400f7 No.199353

>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."

015bf No.199357

>Clem takes a look over the library
>"Quiet, homey, just as it supposed to be…"
>He takes a deep breath to relax as he picks out an empty desk to begin his work
>Picking out that maybe? outdated book and the Rift, he sets these books down on the empty spot he found and opens up a flask of whiskey
>Time for a lazy night of cross-referencing

015bf No.199371

>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."

724d8 No.199396

>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…]

99fef No.199448

>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.

400f7 No.199541

>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.


400f7 No.199563

>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?"

400f7 No.199568

<Silently unmoving and staring in bafflement until the library door opens, the deceased mare groans near-audibly as it closes.
>Moments later, fluttering and presumably the sound of an anti-gravity mane flowing in an unseen breeze follow you into the courtyard, the mare drifting alongside in an odd mid-leap state.
>Twisting halfway in the air without losing gliding speed, turqoise eyes brighten as she faces your direction sideways, speaking through the paper. <Crystal Pony> "Neither of those will be necessary, human! The scent of Siege-Marauder Naliyna Remostrine marks you as the one I am here for-"
>The mare's ears and nose twitch while a leg bends up to affix the letter onto the same hoof, grumbling mutedly for a moment, then takes on a bit more presentable tone.
<Crystal Pony> "Now, as herd-son of Kyanite Remostrine, I am here to deliver this formal charge: on behalf of the Reservis Conclavia operating Naliyna Remostrine's private account in the Crystal Empire City-State, it is now yours to freely access! All that is required is a deposit of at least one-hundred Bits accompanied by a letter with your hoof-mark within the next two years to confirm acceptance!"
>The mare furiously wiggles the page in your direction, which only manages to produce a mild fluttering noise, a sensible snicker given as she does so.
<Crystal Pony> "The ponies here must all be blind, I waited to make my delivery for an hour, even after announcing myself at the front gates so I had to let myself in before dying of boredom.. again!"

400f7 No.199571

>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?"

400f7 No.199574

"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."

64144 No.199663


>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[ 1d6+1 = 4 ] >Sharpness
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] >Poking

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

b316f No.199698

>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

fa987 No.199743

File: 1548062457012.jpg (89.33 KB, 1360x760, 23436.jpg)

>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."

99fef No.199774

"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.
>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.

400f7 No.199781

>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.

400f7 No.199804

>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!"

c46a8 No.199811


>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[ 1d6 = 4 ] E.Perception
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ] >H.E

400f7 No.199845

>Though it probably wasn't your imagination due to the Changelings, the impact of a sigh hitting the door could be felt.
>After all, hearing it would be weird!

>Traveling the short distance back to the Pagoda, upon peering in you immediately spot Shanis, now with a number of mangoes stashed all around her head, on the same couch as she had been, and of course, still cradling the bright white hallucination.

>In turn, the bright white hallucination spots you, the. presumably, young seal's head rotates up, a content smile creasing her long whiskers back, while a deep black flipper lifts several inches in greeting.
>There was no mistaking the seal to be female either due to a rounded facial structure, and a general air of cuteness.
>Either that or Shanis was responsible for the last part, yet at the moment you couldn't be sure.

>On the south side of the Pagoda, Naliyna had returned and was busy sorting through two mounds of folded blankets and woven carpets, the first a mix from all across Tallus, the second definitely Saddle Arabian, taking up most of the trading stall outside of her carelessly organized paperwork.

>By all appearances both piles looked quite soft and warm, though most importantly expensive, but given the way they were being hoofled it seemed like the trader was simply trying to organize them to get rid of.

fa987 No.199864

>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*?"

b316f No.199866

File: 1548105468015.jpg (262.93 KB, 700x392, ofuckyeahbud.jpg)

>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."]

400f7 No.199890

>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[ 1d6+15 = 17 ] <Master Ethereal Lance
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <Ethereal Scourge
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 13 ] <????? #1
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 12 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 15 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 12 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 11 ] <????? #1 Regeneration
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 11 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 12 ]
1d6+10[ 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[ 1d6+6 = 7 ] <E.Assault
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ] <Frostcrack
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Pull
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 14 ] <????? #2
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 17 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 15 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 16 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 8 ] <????? #2: Regeneration
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 13 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 13 ]
1d6+7[ 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[ 1d6+13 = 18 ] <M.Storm Tactic: Slam
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ]

1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 15 ] <????? #3
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 17 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 17 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 17 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 11 ] <????? #3: Regeneration
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 16 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ]
1d6+10[ 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!"

015bf No.199895

"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

015bf No.199896

>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

400f7 No.199901

>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."

c46a8 No.199922


>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[ 1d6+2 = 5 ] >B.Small Arms
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 4 ]

>With this done he looked again for where his quarry went.

1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] E.Perception
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ] >H.E

39d1d No.199929

>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?"

fa987 No.199954

File: 1548138198409.jpg (458.21 KB, 1920x1080, GhostInTheShellBetaReview8.jpg)

"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.]

99fef No.200013


>In a moment that seemed to last longer than the actual split second it did, Sunny merely stared at the seal staring at her.

>The small, pure white thing clutched in the hooves of Shanis seemed impossibly adorable.
>Too adorable to actually exist.
>And yet there it was.
>The split second debate carried on and on, the mare attempting to decided whether or not the seal was a hallucination, the entire encounter, or indeed the entire world she existed in.
>Existential doubt plagued the small pegasi's mind as she wondered if all of this weren't some elaborately crafted encounter in the mind of another. Each detail intentionally created exactly the way it was specifically to create the effect on her it had.
>That there was real madness, and so Sunny took a mental step away from that line of thought, unwilling to unravel that particular ball of yarn like a cat at play.
>The moment passed.
>She lifted a wing in return greeting towards the possibly-a-hallucination seal. Shanis checked on, and evidently still sleeping, Sunny chose not to disturb her, or the seal from their public cuddling and instead made her way over to Naliyna's stall.
>She could trade the contract's she'd been given for another task in retrieving potion recipes.

400f7 No.200017

>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."

400f7 No.200019

>Unlike the two volumes that you'd picked out before, both 'A Solar Historian's Guide to Rift Construct Invasions' and the 'Therrost Lisle Harpy Translations, the Isle of Wind Conflict' had not been written in by Spiral.
>Either he didn't have the time and effort to make corrections, or the information contained within both was right.
>Checking when each was written revealed curious dates: 28,419 Tallus, the Translation volume much older as of 26,174 Tallus albeit each were reprints from around 850 years prior to now.
>Paging through both at the same time, the first known incident of a probable Construct invasion occurred immediately after an event known as the 'Endless March of Stone', a brief paragraph explaining the lands belonging to the Minotaur Hegemony had been partially conquered by untold numbers of Otherworldly Golems.
>Both volumes featured slightly different oral histories of the Rift Carrier, a harpy's retelling in the Translation stating that one used its own body to build a gateway, the second in the Historian's volume detailing that the Rift Carrier detonated when a gateway was formed; both sources were well accounted for, the matching later description indicating Constructs had improved their method of linking the Rift to material planes.
>Only two clues existed in the Historian's Guide that Constructs had indeed performed an invasion in the Hegemony's lands:
>The first was a meticulously translated battle-prayer spoken by Hegemonic mystics before performing a rite of passage, that of defeating a dangerous enemy in combat, the wording itself however implying that a potential mystic adherent should only be advanced in position if they destroyed an Endless March Golem that had been witnessed committing the destruction of a Construct.
>The second was referenced in the Therrost Lisle Translation, copied letter for letter, and was more puzzling in comparison: the minute vagaries and idiosyncrasies of the unusual 61 letter Otherworldly Harpy alphabet were lost to you, nonetheless both sources implied that a harpy whom had slain one or more of a Construct model, belatedly named the 'Shell Cracker', was to be immediately promoted to the rank of War Leader.
>Paging back into the Lunar guide, the Shell Cracker was likely distant ancestor of the 'Blazer' model due to being incapable of retreating from combat.
>According to the Historian's Guide, historically the Shell Cracker had been the first model to exit from a gateway during small incursions or invasions for at least three thousand years, though the armaments attributed to it were little more than four sets of arms utilizing somewhat effective armor-piercing claws.

>Coming to a consensus on the information, it seemed that Rift Constructs had, over time, adapted their invasion tactics much more quickly than the most advanced Tallus species could withstand.

>Oddly, while Constructs had improved their lethality throughout many centuries of direct conflict on Tallus, they were more prone to invading either less defended, smaller regions with little sapient life and larger amounts of metals in the surroundings, or sought to occupy inhospitable regions of greater tactical importance.
>Noted in the Translation volume, the harpies whom had settled Therrost Lisle only kept it as a basic, barely maintained fishing outpost during spring and summer, and was fairly close to the Saddle Arabian mainland though Constructs had never invaded from it.

>On the last page of the Translation volume, a series of notes had been scribbled in neat Common Equestrian:

>The first detailed Rift Valley, an isolated Construct fortification located somewhere in the Lower Dragonspine Mountains, known for little other than being a location where Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had dueled during the Lunar-Solar War.
>The second was partially removed, the remaining paragraph mentioning an island southwest of the Deep Moors coastline called Tempest Isle, abandoned by a clan of Ferron even before Constructs arrived to colonize due to a gigantic, permanent storm cloud that perpetually spewed forth lightning and winds that stripped all flora from it.

400f7 No.200033

>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."

400f7 No.200106

>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[ 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[ 1d6+15 = 17 ] <Counter
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ]<M.Ethereal Lance
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 13 ] <????? #1
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 14 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 17 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 13 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ] <????? #1: Regeneration
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ]
1d6+10[ 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[ 1d6+7 = 13 ] <Lunge
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ] <E.Assault
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 8 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ] <Frostcrack
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Pull
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 11 ] <????? #2: Regeneration
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 8 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 8 ]
1d6+6[ 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[ 1d6+13 = 15 ] <M.Assault: Crushing Blows
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 14 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 18 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 19 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ] <????? #3
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 15 ] <????? #3: Regeneration
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 15 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]
1d6+9[ 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[ 1d6+19 = 23 ] <Grandmaster Assault
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 24 ]
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 22 ]
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 23 ]
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 24 ]
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 20 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ] <M.Psion: Crushing Force
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 14 ] <M.Reaction Speed
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 12 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 15 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] <B.Resist Damage
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 18 ] <M.Crystal Runes: Control
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 17 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 15 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 18 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 14 ] <Ward Regeneration
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 14 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 15 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ] <M.Assault
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 14 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 13 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 13 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] <B.Resist Damage
1d6+3[ 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.

dc7f5 No.200120

>While watching the three mares beat the shit out of each other, Bubba keeps an eye on the crowd.
>While he wasn't exactly nervous, he knew he was slightly out of his depth with the lack of interactions from batponies before now.
>He was at least satisfied that the mare he bet on winning isn't the one losing, though. Even if it was a tie for the moment.

400f7 No.200131

"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[ 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."

ff485 No.200134

File: 1548202504822-0.png (422.19 KB, 712x736, 1759141__safe_artist-colon….png)

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

139f3 No.200135

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

dc7f5 No.200136

Do we look like Judens

b2da1 No.200137

#notallhumans mkay?

ff485 No.200138

File: 1548203758055-0.png (1.2 MB, 2000x2000, 991345__safe_artist-colon-….png)

Ja sie do. Now getten back into zee shower.

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

400f7 No.200141

>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?"

39d1d No.200147

File: 1548205303869.jpg (46.87 KB, 625x406, b4d.jpg)

>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?"

400f7 No.200151

>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[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Soft-Kill
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <?????
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Rest

400f7 No.200158

>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[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Arcanum Sensors Array

139f3 No.200168


>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[ 1d6+1 = 6 ] >Sharpness
1d6[ 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.

1d2[ 1d2 = 2 ] >2

dc7f5 No.200169

>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?"

139f3 No.200182

File: 1548220389506.png (567.04 KB, 5869x1957, Utas-15-bitmap.png)



>'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-

>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[ 1d6 = 3 ] >E.Perception
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ] >Thermal
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 2 ] >H.E

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] >E.Shotgun +Heavy Shotgun
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ]


400f7 No.200192

>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[ 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?"

6bbc8 No.200194

>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."

99fef No.200196

>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…?
"And uh, I forgot to give you this. From Late Pepper."
>Sunny extended her wing to Naliyna, the brown envelope resting on her pinions.

47585 No.200385

File: 1548295218243.png (766.14 KB, 882x829, Yeah_i_know_its_the_prophe….png)

>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.
>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[ 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[ 1d6+13 = 14 ] >Master H. Weapons
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 15 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 19 ] >Master Suppression Fire
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 14 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 14 ] >Killing Pace

39d1d No.200393

>Raidor looks down at the list of items tied down into the small green sachels.
>Quite a few different, rare, and expensive alchemy ingredients. Some were even, dare he say, contraband.
>Luckily this wasn't Manehattan, and ultimately none of his business.
"This looks like the package. Will you please carry them, Ivan? I did not come here with any saddlebags."
>The captain tilts his head in confusion to the side.
"Really, now? You can't read or write common? I was under the assumption it was very similar to one of your human alien languages."

39d1d No.200398

File: 1548299852169.jpg (51.67 KB, 461x391, 855-4-1465942370.jpg)

>Adon squints his eyes at the gryphon at its mentioning of 'clients'. It was good enough for him.
>He glances over at his companion still working at the rope. He needed to buy more time.
>The bandits made their moves on their own, the unicorn being more than willing to engage the Witcher.
>She was too far away for Yrden, and so were the others.
>But that minotaur behind him was… right on top of him.
>Adon grips the handle of his steel sword, and draws it out several inches to possibly counter with a quick draw
>He flicks some flames from his finger tip, though ultimately prepares his left hand to cast Quen to defend against any damage.
"You can try."

400f7 No.200421

>Despite the assurance to yourself, the wall behind didn't sound completed, melodiously singing from behind you drowning out the din of combat briefly.
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 3 ] <ANGRY Chorus of Command: Micro-Blizzard Wall

>Champion Belregard

1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ] <M.Ethereal Lance
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] <Ethereal Scourge
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 14 ] <????? #1
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 15 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 13 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 14 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ] <????? #1: Regeneration
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 12 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 15 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]

>Crystal filly:

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ] <E.Assault
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ] <Frostcrack
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Pull
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 4 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 4 ] <E.Evasion
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 6 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 2 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 14 ] <????? #2
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 12 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 12 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 13 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ] <????? #2: Regeneration
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 8 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 11 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 12 ]

>Crystal Pony #1:

1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 14 ] <M.Assault: Crushing Blows
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 19 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 15 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ] <????? #3
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ] <????? #3: Regeneration
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 13 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]

>The world blackens into tunnel vision, becoming clear that despite Tacit's vastly superior strength, tactics, and previously unknown psionic command, he was quickly losing against the Ward's innate mixture of abilities.

>Long practiced reflexes slamming heavy shells into the oversized shotgun, you're barely aware of lifting the heavy weapon to your shoulder, the first thump of recoil merely counting down to the second, then the third.
>Tracking the first dart through the air, it's course grazes the tip of Tacit's nose leaving a tiny furrow, the next lancing deeply into the unfamiliar Ward's upper left shoulder, while the last punches a clean, perfect hole through the precise center of her neck.
>Unbelievably, the half-unicorn and half-Crystal pony ceases her struggles, Tacit completing his task of ripping the mare's horn off and hurling it to the side while she slowly crumples forwards, face slamming down into the crystalline stone underneath.

>The heavily muscled earth pony takes a deep breath, his eyes shutting before collapsing atop the convulsing mare, her legs thrashing about in death throes.

dc7f5 No.200422

>Bubba shrugs to himself and focuses on the fight, deciding that wondering about the odd calm the batponies were exhibiting could wait.
>Though he does wince at Rest taking that heavy of a blow.

dc7f5 No.200424

>Upon touching the satchel, Ivan almost pushed it away, before remembering that radiation was not a thing here.
>With a shrug, Ivan takes the other satchel and puts it on as well, nodding idly.
"Yes, but I don't know how to read, only talk."
>Looking at Raidor, he gave a helpless shrug.
"I wasn't taught to read when I learned English, just to speak and understand it."
>"Even then its sometimes hard for me."
"У будь-якому випадку, це не має великого значення. Let us get going, I'm happy to get paid for being mailman."

dc7f5 No.200428

>Well, at least she's speaking about shells I know. Even if we don't exactly use thirty millimeter.
"That is a lot of firepower."
>I had to agree, I don't think us having nuclear weapons is a good idea. Who knows what some of these loons would do with one.
"Do you know how deep down it is? Because if its too deep, even if you're airtight, I don't think its a good idea."
>Submarines weren't able to go too deep underwater after all, and she's just a car… thing.
"Plus… I have no idea what else is in the ocean here. I've only heard passing stories about monsters out at sea, and while you have a big gun, I doubt you could fend off everything out there. No offense."

400f7 No.200444

>Now gasping for air, Flash's irrational bout of hysterics is overshadowed by the black candle bursting into flame, a heavily scuffed and damaged dull gold cube, roughly the size of a common toolbox, lands atop the coin she'd placed earlier, audibly crushing the box of matches.

>Gazing in disbelief at the post-human's antics as if he'd never seen her act this way before, Krinza swings his head in your direction, only to lift his shoulders apologetically.

"Spiral's notes were quite extensive when it came to the vagaries of temporal alignments, but his expertise only extended to Kraut's world, which seemed to be rather plain in comparison to Tallus. I could show you his calculations on the matter, but understanding them is… well beyond my knowledge."
>Making a frustrated noise, the grandmaster smith lifts one forehoof, a bright yellow hoof forms, the creation stepping on the not-mare's snout briefly to acquire her attention in an unorthodox, painful manner.
>Unable to move from where she was, Flash's eye facing upwards rotates sharply onto the dagger, a sudden spark of interest on her face.
"Isn't that.."
>Turning onto her face, Flash groans, pushing herself back into a sitting position, right foreleg lifting to press against her chest, taking a slow, deep inhale before.
"Not this night for sure. So far my abilities are still functional and I haven't yet received any visions of immediate danger. It wasn't my intention to act as if this was a problem needing immediate rectification, but when I can confirm a cloned alicorns beginging work on the temporal device, or intends to, I'll contact you on frequency nine point six-three. The Abominable Intelligences.. Constructs, rather, likely won't intercept such low powered transmissions unless they're in close proximity. Regardless of circumstances facing these recidivist ab-"
>Trailing off with a pained grimace, the dull gold mare's hoof lifts to place on her nose, eyes unfocusing while she mutters in a low, cold tone, perhaps speaking to a distant observer.
"Be silent you worthless curs, I choose how to live now, not you! Not one of you callous bastards dared to challenge our enslaved, stifling omniverse of wretched shame, guilt, and self-betrayal!"
>Standing up rather stiffly, Flash's head tilts in your direction, her muzzle quirking at the corners with small vestiges of.. empathy?
"I'd advise you to make expedient improvements to your wargear. All of it in fact, starting now, and if possible suggest to the whole of Razorback they do the same. Those things locked in their protected hulls are not invincible, but they might as well be given the current technological standing of humanity right now. The clock started ticking the moment they became aware of us."
>Leaning forwards and tapping on the cube, it warps out of real-space after a moment, Flash turning about and plodding towards the Armory, angrily snarling at.. nothing at all.
"Your concerns were selfishly bothering to have a single life of luxury where you worked for nothing while my crew and I scraped together every Sun goddess damned Throne we could get just to have a decent meal from time to time! I've spent eleven years on this world holding my ideals higher than any human would dare to reach and what's that gotten me? Nothing except this whoreish, profane xenos body that demands me to give into its desires to fuck every other minute, but do you idiots know what the best part is? I'm going to piss on your hexagrammatic wards and self-righteous protocol engrams you ancient, deluded fools! This may be the only body I have but it's mine and I will damned well please myself however I like, starting right now!"

>Very slowly turning his still disbelieving gaze from the leaving post-human to you, Krinza's jaw tightens several times in mixed concern and amazement, visibly stunned until he manages to clear his throat, then speaks up.

"…I once thought Hollow was terrifying. Now I would take his presence over hers in a heartbeat. What is she, why can she not answer a single straight question, and shouldn't she be suffering from temporal incongruity effects from remaining in the timestream of Tallus for eight years?"

400f7 No.200452

>Still passed out rather warmly as she's moved, Tipper continues lightly snoring, although not without her legs curling into her barrel.

>Head swiveling down to alight curious, shiny black eyes on you, the bright white seal's utterly content smile is oddly questioning given her company.

>Yep, definitely a female, and rather rolly by the looks of her comfortably thick sides.
>The pinniped's free flipper raising to tap Shanis' barrel gently, the suited pegasus waking up with a brief start.
>Hearing a faint, much too young voice whispering from the seal, Shanis tilts her head back, muttering in a sleepy, albeit amused tone.
"Hi Jeff.. uh, Nao's a Polar Seal.. she sleeps on ice, but snuggles better than Sweet ever threatened to."
>The presumed compliment is accompanied by Nao giggling quietly, the sound reminiscent of a very squeaky young human girl.

>Whether you expected the universe to clarify your question, an answer was given in the form of a distantly amused, metallic Changeling snort, one that sounded suspiciously like a 'yes'.

>Somehow nonplussed at the shenanigans going on in the Pagoda, or merely used to it, Naliyna pauses from sorting to raise an eyebrow at you, her half-ruined ear twitching in a large amount of confusion.

"I… what? Trade contracts for.. huh?"
>Head tilting left, then right, the older Crystal mare's eyes glaze over briefly, then blinks.
"I'm.. not really sure what you mean by that, but mercenary contracts go on the Bulletin Board, it's to the north next to the big steel building, the one with a big sign that says Command Center on it. As for courier duties I might, maybe, have something for you to take for me, but I'm waiting on something before that."
>Trailing off pensively, the fuchsia mare frowns, lifting a foreleg over the table and picking the envelope up on the edge of her hoof, bringing it back with a hum, a small, shining needle becoming visible and slicing the flap open, pulling out a coarse white sheet to read.
>Her expression visibly one of convincing herself that she wasn't mistaking what was being read, Naliyna turns the page around, which you'd already seen was blank, then sets it down atop the tallest stack of documents.
"That's kinda weird. I've never heard of the Free Traders Guild, then again Late Pepper's shop is in the Dragonspines, but we don't really have much if any contact with them outside of small shipments, they might just be regional traders or. Or something like that. Speaking of-"
>Glancing you up and down once, she turns her head to peer down, emitting a soothing hum while a ridiculously large, plush red and purple striped blanket is lifted up, the scarred mare offering a merry smile.
"I figured that since you've just been hired here you might want something warmer than the basic blankets, they're supposed to be replaced but everypony's way too busy and scattered around everywhere to do it."

fa987 No.200466

>Pareidolia tenses briefly as the gold cube thuds onto the floor.
>He peers closely at the seemingly spent ritual items for some explanation as to their purpose considering their owner was not interested in explaining.

"Save them. My understanding of timelines and world line mechanics would be roughly comparable to yours. My branch of the Organization was not focused on time travel and SERN rarely shared their work."

>He quickly sheathes the pinksteel dagger after seeing her focus on it, and prepares a response but stops as she begins muttering to herself.

[… Lingering voices from her previous world? Past trauma? Instability is concerning. Operational fitness pending.]

>His head draws back with an incredulous look behind his mask as she begins walking away.

[Improvements to firearms and armor are limited without Spiral. Even if he were here, against Constructs viability of upgrades with possible materials here is… ]

>Pareidolia stares along with Krinza at the angrily departing Inquisitor, matching his gaze as he turns at the same time.

"My assessment points to being an unwilling victim of transformation from a human form to a pony. Her usage of the word "xenos" derives from a human root language term indicating foreignness. Technical classification would list all species on Tallus as aliens. Xeno may imply additional negative bias. Whatever world she came from was one that did not appreciate non-human presence. Her form must be a punishment."

>Exhaling through his currently unfiltered helmet, he turns back to pick up his Empire microscope.

"Refusal or inability to answer questions may be due to presence of outsiders, lack of trust, prevention by protocol, or lack of communication skills. Her origin world seems to be more divergent from standard pattern origins of other humans at Razorback. The lack of temporal congruity deficits simply indicates she was brought here through other means. A portal possibly. If it were temporal, as you said it should not be possible for her to exist in this form."

>He begins to make his way to the front door.

"Krinza, if I requested an enclosure made of both solid and meshed metal that is anchored to the ground for the sake of a safe environment to analyze Construct hulls is that something you could create?"

015bf No.200582

>If he goes by his notes, then that mothership has an ungodly amount of those Carrier models
>That vessel must have been swarmed with the Constructs afterwards if going by the books
>This theory has some potential
>Just need to find out where that mothership is over
>Clem tries to recall where he saw that mothership and see if he can guess where it is over
>Looking over, he spies that plate
>Just like the one he used for the satellite, only silver
>"That much power…"
>Clem reaches over to the plate and stores it in his satchel
>Another time to think on that thing
>He also begins to think on the small vessel
>"Does this planet even have that capacity yet? What if it was another construct ship and it was being absorbed back…"
>Nevertheless, he tries to figure out where that ship is
>He flicks on his helmet to the M.S.O.L.G for a bit, to see if he can get a visual on the ship, if it is there

015bf No.200587

>"Ok..now more uncomfortable."
>"Help me tea. Help me."
>Zhun also looks over to Dancing Eyes
>"Still knocked out."
>Well everything seems to be wrapping up, especially with Pearl Lake taking leave
>Zhun however raises an eyebrow at the mention of Canterlotlians
>"Allied? Huh. Why?"
>Hopefully someone at the base who gets this information can understand that motive
>Plus, more allies can help…maybe
>Zhun smiles and nods at Pearl Lake's farewell
"You have a good night too."
>Seeing here walk out, he then looks over to Amerose
"Something wrong?"
>Listening to her concerns, Zhun becomes increasingly concerned
>"Statues? Oh. OH."
"Keep going? What else?"

b316f No.200600

File: 1548356942087.jpg (82.59 KB, 427x837, 3e718292ffe7e99c5304a45d2b….jpg)

>slowly, the man begins to move
>he groans, and manages to speak
"Ah… no, no, I think… I think that I shall be fine."
>as he gets to his feet, moving like a man whose age was now catching up with him, he began to shiver
"Oh… my, yes, I do feel… q-quite cold."
>looking around, he manages to find his pack, luckily still nearby - some good Samaritan had moved it but not taken anything, it would seem
>he removes from his pack his thick travel blanket, wrapping it around himself and sitting back down for a moment to regain his senses
"I thank you, Lady Nova. Though… you are not the one I had seen… ah, it is no matter, I suppose."
>he smiles a bit, shivering before he continues
"Tell me, Nova, would you do a shivering old man a favor? You see, now that I am awake once again, I should like to return home, and warm my bones by the fire. Would you care to accompany me?"
"Worry not of needing to carry me - I feel as though I can still make the journey on foot. However, carrying my pack, too, may be different. I still feel somewhat weakened by my fainting spell."
"You will? Oh, bless you, kind mare. It is not far, I assure you. Come, let us away."
>accompanied by Nova Flicker, Indurian makes his way back to Bren's home
>standing on the front porch, he knocks on the front door, calling out to Bren
"Bren, my dear, art thou home? I return, at last!"
>out of the side of his mouth, he whispers to Nova
"I hope that I catch her in an agreeable mood…"

13479 No.200657


>Mid step the Unicorn stopped, an appraising glint in her eyes at Adons summoning of fire. "So you ARE a magic caster, oh you'll fetch a high price indeed~"

>Friendly hostilities between the members of the Slavers subsided for professionalism; the two Gryphons pointing their wing spikes at the Witcher in readied positions. Behind him to his complete lack of surprise the Minotaur took a step forward and placed a -very- large and muscled palm on his shoulder. "Don't fight it." He rumbled, almost like he was giving friendly advise.
>The horn on the tawny coated pony coalesced with blue magic, and when it sparked with power she lowered her head towards Adon. Some form of stun magic, which explained the slaves.

>Speaking of which; the Chiqtu made a high pitch squeak and the rope-


>The large fire that was between the Witcher and the Unicorn blew out into wisps of smoke trails at the sound of a prolonged, echoing groan that instantly chilled the air.

1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] >Chilling Freeze
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] >Terror

>It all went to shit in a heartbeat. The Minotaur took his hand off Adons' shoulder and bellowed an ear ringing warcry, the air displacement that 'WOOSHED' over his head told him the big guy swung at something out of sight.

1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 15 ] >GM.Combat
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 18 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 15 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 13 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 16 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ] >E.Fearless
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ] >Burning Cold
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] >Mist Cover

>He may not of seen what was behind him but the Wolf Medallion was vibrating violently against his chest, oddly though, it was shifting between the group of captives and whatever was behind him.

>"WHAT THE BUCK?!" Screamed the Unicorn as she scrambling backwards. The two Gryphons had jumped back towards the mare, their wings help up defensively. "Why're ya always right!" "Shoot it already dammit." An arc of lightning exploded out of her horn behind the Witcher.

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ] >E.Bolt (lightning)
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 8 ]

>Behind the three Slavers the tied up slaves were hunched over biting and untying themselves from their bonds, except for one. A wizened old lanky pony with having a snow white moustache and a horn also, a golden aura around it fading away from it. The old stallion gave Adon a wink before helping the other captives.

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ] >E.Telekinesis
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ]

>The Chiqtu was nowhere in sight.

400f7 No.200693

>Your Support Strikers, including an additional five, tiredly accept the Orders without hesitation, tiny blips of green spreading throughout Stalliongrad's Main Square as pained earth pony consciousnesses exit from reality to… somewhere else entirely.
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 33 ] <Order: Reclaim Wounded
>Meanwhile, the Lieutenant's currently shattered protection is replaced by a limited number of her frontline Lancers receiving small forward shields, Broken Hoof's front ranks likewise receiving the same.
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 35 ] <Order: Northern Sky
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 35 ] <Order: Northern Sky

>Belatedly given an estimate closer to 190 tons, Denra's thoughts coalesce in your direction with an air of such perfect contempt, smugness, and lack of care that, for a moment, it felt as if he was going to flat out ignore you.

>That is, until the Golem takes a single gargantuan step forwards, the exterior undergoing quick renovations into passably hardened skin.
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 3 ] <Grand Golem Modification: Stalliongrad's Defiance
(Fine you damn joykiller, I'll PRIVATELY give this one Luna's stacked flanks and ass later! Well, that is if it survives and I have the energy to even consider it-)
>Cutting off the link, the now 125 Support Strikers collectively sigh in relief, yet a small number were still concerned at the fact that portions of their home city were going to be used in the creation of teats.. among other choice, lewd anatomical parts.

>Taking aim at the relatively unscathed Watch Guard central lines, the MG3's normally uncumbered design without your armor makes the continuous burst worse than it would should be upon hammering into your shoulder, but your (relatively speaking) unnaturally high physical strength maintains decent aim across the broad field of targets, though it was virtually impossible to tell what damage was being done.

>The trio of thundering charges ahead and the mercenaries rushing past nearly drown out your Orders:

>The Lieutenant's verifiably archaic Double Spear Formation slams into the chaotic lines of solid eastern Watch Guard, her newly arriving Lancers furiously racing in to cover their sisters' exposed flanks.
1d6+23[ 1d6+23 = 29 ] <Lieutenant
1d6+27[ 1d6+27 = 33 ] <Lancers: Double Spear Formation
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 15 ] <Eastern Loyalist Watch Guard Command
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 24 ] <Eastern Loyalist Watch Guard

>Across from her subordinate, Knight-General Broken Hoof takes advantage of the western flank being caught between their own ranks and the traitors, her ragtag Watch Guard forces composed of basic armored and armed earth pony mares, reaching a crescendo of howling rage as they crash straight into the confused loyalists.

1d6+33[ 1d6+33 = 38 ] <Knight-General Broken Hoof
1d6+18[ 1d6+18 = 21 ] <Knight-General's Cadre
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ] <Traitor Watch Guard
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 16 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard Command
1d6+22[ 1d6+22 = 24 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard

>Now effectively being ignored by your Strikers, the duel between the Phantasm Knight Aura and Tactician Elwood shifts, the pair reengaging east of the Main Square.

1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 26 ] <Phantasm Arts: Sunblade
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 23 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 22 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 23 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 26 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 23 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 32 ] <Grandmaster Crusade
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 32 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 34 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 33 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 31 ]

>North of the Watch Guard lines in severe disarray, Primus Wandering Steps mentally whips her Tarusian Crests into a frenzied state, their weaponry barely making headway against the standard defensive Shieldmare tactical doctrines, although the Primus was quickly overcoming the veteran Councilerge's physical superiority through sheer desperation.. and the urge to capture him for herself.

1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 22 ] <Primus Wander Steps: Close Range Tactics
1d6+18[ 1d6+18 = 22 ] <Tarusian Crest Regiment: Close Range Tactics
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 13 ] <Brute Kantred: Close Range Tactics
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 14 ] <Retinue: Close Range Tactics

(My prince, I'm trying my very best not to panic but do you have any idea how many Undead there are under this city?)
(Shut it, the Main Square's now fully surrounded, looks like the entire Watch Guard has been rudely awoken-)
(-confirmed sixty thousand or so of of 'em, we need to be done and out of here in the next two minutes or we're really gonna repeat Empress Silver's last stand!)
(All of the Vigilites are gone from Stalliongrad sir! Can't sense even one of them-)
(Then where on Celestia's ass have they gone?!)

b2da1 No.200694

Hey just to let you know, the innawoods site is broken.

13479 No.200696

its shut down, owner retired it sadly

b2da1 No.200697

Then how would i make a character if i wanted to play?

400f7 No.200700

>From the translocation stone's direction the unmistakable sound of an archaic, bonafide spark lamp could be heard clicking over several times, the emanations of warm glow traveling closer along with the brisk, light clanks of soft iron ponyshoes.
>Coming into view unannounced was a lone, black half-armored earth pony mercenary, spark lamp hanging off the side side of its barrel, instantly identifiable as coming from the Tartarus Air Corps.
>The unusually young helmetless dull granite colored mare, barely 14 or so, trods down the tunnel until reaching 20M from Ivan and Raidor, halting to raise a hoof in greeting.
"Hello there Razorback, and-"
>Glancing the Captain up and down, the mercenary puzzles over his armor, lifting her shoulders in a small shrug and quickly giving an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, not familiar with your faction. I just graduated from the Tartarus training camp and this is my first night on leave. Is Dayi's spa still open or has she left for the night?"

400f7 No.200703

>Receiving both hooves directly to her head, Rest tumbles off into the crowd sideways as the unnamed feral batpony rounds on Soft-Kill, double sets of wingclaws slapping into the barely landed mare's neck.
>From your higher seated position, you note that the attempt to grapple Soft-Kill was only marginally successful; more concerning were the unnamed mare's unquestionably large vampiric teeth biting into Soft-Kill's neck.
>Whether or not Soft-Kill was aware of the potential danger in her, seemingly, bloodlust engaged state, she nonetheless aims a headbutt to the offending third mare's shoulder, while off to the side Rest was struggling to stand up.
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Soft-Kill
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <?????
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Rest: Shake It Off!

13479 No.200704


download this i believe:


then screenshot what you've made and post it here

13479 No.200706

also can be a pony if ya want :v

13479 No.200710

File: 1548383002850.gif (2.73 MB, 307x284, panki eating out aj.gif)


>'The nice singing really does not fit the carnage that's happening here.' Lont mused.

>At the sight of the Ward falling to the crystal ground dead, body twitching, the Outrider was a bit shocked.

"Wait that worked?"
>He was not expecting his plan to…go exactly as he wanted. An invisible shield, the dart flying off in a different direction or hell he even
missing and killing Tacit. Something, anything, that would of forced him into taking out his sword and bum rushing her.


>The stallion was now boasting a new scar on his snout, he could just hope Tacit would not ask when he wakes up from his impromptu corpse napping. Then again he could ask why he was here in the Empire as well.
>Once again he added to the mental note of whom to give medical assistance too.
>'Shame he is a Psion though.' he remarked as he turned his attention towards the now leaderless abominations.

>Out of the three fights going on it was Belregard of all things that was having trouble, so with a groan the Operator aimed his Spiker at the leg joint of the pony monster the Ethereal was fighting against. 'I do -not- want to hear any fucking lip from him for helping.'

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] >E.Shotgun +Heavy Shotgun
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]

>Something did not sit right with him, it was too easy. Way too easy. Glancing around he looked to see if he was missing something. Like a clue to suggest the Ward he just killed was a decoy or a different mare multi-coloured Ward that was on the run.

1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] >E.Perception
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] >Thermal
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 7 ] >H.E

400f7 No.200712

>Strolling from the left screen into the right, the tiny cartoon Android stops, back facing you while it examines the map, then looks over her shoulder with a shrug.
"If I had the proper knowledge and materials I could improve my weapon to compensate or construct new armaments, but I do not think I'd be able to resist nuclear weaponry without significant upgrades."
>Reaching an unknown point, Wild Ride halts, facing towards the ocean as the left cabin screen changing to a rather shitty night vision mode.. which reveals nothing more than mounds of ash forming on the water's surface.
"Approximately eighteen meters. Your cabin is fully sealed with approximately ten minutes of air, the descent will be safe for you. My shoulder and cockpit cabins are not.. notice: additional equipment and items retrieved from damaged cabins, relocated to internal storage compartment one."
>Offering a plaintive series of clicks, the air conditioning kicks on once more, this time spilling out wonderfully cold air, the cabin's sauna like temperatures noticeably dropping, albeit slowly.
"Repairs completed, efficiency of central cabin temperature control unit: ninety percent. Retaining additional components for further repairs."
>The tiny version disappearing off screen, the Eldritch Android's voice emits from the speaker overhead, this time with a buzzing crackle of static.
"No organic bioforms detected within two hundred meters of the shoreline, small numbers of tiny organic bioforms approximately six hundred meters from shoreline. Conclusion: no known dangers within scanning range. Preparing to submerge and enter scavenging mode."
>The cabin's hatch, or what you suspect to be a hatch, clicks several times, then pitches forwards at a 20-degree angle or so, Wild stomping into the ocean.
>Once fully submerged, the grainy camera is immediately assisted by a pair of centrally mounted lights, the Android making careful steps into barren sand; interestingly there wasn't a single strand of seaweed or kelp in view.
>Twisting back and forth several times, the camera eventually comes across a small piece of timber sticking out of sand, the faint outline of a destroyed wooden vessel almost entirely buried.
>Wild's confused voice returns to the speaker as the cabin rocks once more, the Android kneeling down with her left hand coming into view and scraping into the sand with great caution.
"Scavenging protocols enabled, beginning additional scans now. Natilda, do you have any information on this wreckage?"
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Arcanum Sensors Array
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Scavenge

47585 No.200714

File: 1548384212559.gif (305.61 KB, 444x250, fuk u say.gif.gif)

>Well, it appears that the Strikers are on their last legs.
>Might as well get one last attempt out of them.
(Strikers! You have done incredibly well thus far! I just need one last push from you! Claim the wounded in the Lieutenants formation, and make sure the enemy lines feels every ounce of your combined fury!)
Order- Claim Wounded!
Order- Enforce Tactics!x2
>I'm sorry to ask all of this from them, but I'd rather have an supreme effort made now than pay for it later.


>That was…surprisingly painless.
(You can do as you like later. And thank you, Denra.)
>Though, the support strikers still have their very valid complaints, but they can wait until later, after we no longer have the entire Watch Guard wanting our heads on pikes.
>Also holy shit does that sting.
>Note to self, never fire my MG bare-shouldered once again.
>But that thought fades from me as I touch down onto the street.
>Looks like that's all the energy they can give…
(Thank you for your aid this day, Strikers. Take a brief respite now to recuperate.)
>I would hate if they didn't have the energy to clear the field after this.
>Shouldering my MG, I survey the current engagement happening at the front of my formation.
>It appears the Lieutenant needs more help than Broken, and that is where I will head.
>Taking my twinblade into my hand, I charge forwards, towards the enemy line currently embroiled in conflict with the Lieutenants forces.
Lead By Example activated!
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] <Turns lasted
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ] <E. Speed
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]

>Looking over at the Phantasm Knight, I realize that the fight is shifting in his favor.

>We can't have that, now can we?
Fire on my Target activated!
>Dragging my hand up, I make a claw shape as I feel the strange power warp it's way over to the Phantasm Knight, pointing it in his direction.
>I feel a something pull and -rip- as I tear my hand back from him.
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ] <Infestation
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ]
>I turn my attention back to sprinting, tapping once more into the psion-net.
(Really? They're all gone? I get the feeling that's bad news and good news at the same time. Thank you for the report!)
>Let's hope its more the latter than the former.

39d1d No.200718

>Despite Ivan's string of completely incoherent speech, Raidor can't help but shake his head with disappointment.
"That is unfortunate. Communication is key, when it comes to camaraderie after all. I'm sure someone there would be happy to teach you, Ivan."
>As the human picks up the satchels for transport, a Tartarus Air Corps comes their way from the translocation stone in a hurry.
>He doesn't take insult to the mare's ignorance, and waves her off.
"It is fine. I am Captain Raidor of the Manehattan City Guard. The two of us just came from Dayi's, and I believe she is still open for business."

400f7 No.200721

>Not only was the candle gone, the gold coin too no longer exist, although the brown military match box was, of course, flattened.

>Watching the Armory door slam shut, Krinza glances towards Spiral's worktable, making a face akin to a pegasus biting into an unripe potato.

"Hmm. I do recall Spiral mentioning that Miss Flash was one of the original humans to arrive in Canterlot, though it was some time back when Mercy stated she witnessed Miss Flash having a, quote, 'violent fit with Discord'. Something about vanilla cotton candy and bubblegum flavored milk, I believe. I can understand her xenophobia given your context but I must wonder what she did to anger Discord so thoroughly."
>Rolling an eye upwards briefly, the smith's expression returns to its normal neutrality.
"Given her reclusive habits, blunt hostility to all sapients that are not herself, and lack of anything resembling camaraderie, that is up until right now which I am going to have a painfully hard time processing, your explanation does aid me in understanding Spiral's less thorough notes on her behavior, although the constant shouting at nothing and… extreme agoraphobia are quite troublesome. I will search through my archives later, there should be a logical explanation, or at least a theory, on why Miss Flash remains unaffected by temporal phenomena."
>Turning back to his anvil, Krinza lifts an unfinished round headed mace in a pale yellow glow, setting it inside his furnace.
"A 'Fair-a-day' cage, correct? I do not recall when precisely Spiral refurbished his lab using the concept. He stated it was needed to prevent interference from other human electronics around the time he was searching for a means to mass produce communication gems, though I do not think he finished that project either. Nonetheless, you should be able to experiment there safely, that is, so long as you do not activate a Construct. Both the translocation matrice in the Pagoda and the Enclave will send you to one hidden somewhere in the lab itself, the pass phrase to access it is 'ten bodies, one mind', I believe."

400f7 No.200727

>Picking up the feed once more across the helmet's internal screens, the satellite's aperture lens was still directly on the Construct mothership, all three kinetic ammunition counters pulsing bright red in a ready-to-fire state.
>Belatedly realizing you'd spend quite some time reading, the lens focuses in on the unspeakably large vessel still surrounded by hundreds of smaller craft, most little more than a single orange pixel, save for two far less massive spheres holding flank station.
>The curious slender vessel was, likewise, still embedded in the middle of what you took to be the mothership's bow, a small line of text estimating the distance between the M-S.O.L.G. and the mothership the same as before.

b2da1 No.200728

ill make a character, give me a little time to get a general backstory idea and a personality.

39d1d No.200731

>Stiffening slightly at the minotaur's grasp, Adon focuses more on the unicorn's spell about to be unleashed upon him.
>But it never comes, as an icy chill envelops all parties and snuffs out the embers dancing on his glove.
>The unicorn panics, and the towering beast behind him released the grip on his shoulder to engage a foe he has yet not seen.
>And this cold… it wasn't natural, going by his medallion. It crept along his skin far too quickly for anything other than magic.
>It was going to slow him down. In his still-weakened stake, he'd have an even harder time fending these bandits off.
>So he decides to use Igni. But instead of pushing it out as hellfire, he balls his fist up just after making the sign and holds it to his chest to channel the heat through his body gently.
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Igni: Generate Heat

>Hoping he was warmed up, somewhat, the Witcher has no choice but to focus on the closest foe to him.

>It just had to be the minotaur, too, now swinging his club far over his head at something else.
>Hand still on his steel sword, he peaks back behind him to assess his target's weak spots.
>Chest covered in plate, so no vital shots, but he can immobilize his digi-grade legs. Plenty of important tendons and ligaments on those.
>Fully drawing his sword, Adon squares up his stance on the taur's closest leg and puts a heavy swing right across the tendons on the back of it.
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ] <E. Assault: Heavy Stance
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ] <Heavy Smash

400f7 No.200739

>Staring down at the table blankly, the dusk silver Crystal mare's ears pin backwards on her skull, succeeding at keeping her voice marginally stable.
"When a sapient entered the 'pearl lake' it would take approximately a year for them to become a living statue, similar to a golem though much more complex, more realistic in nature including retaining heat. They are able to function in relatively normalcy before losing their senses of sight, taste, and smell when near-total petrification occurs, yet the process has a rather severe drawback."
"After perhaps two weeks the sapient will no longer be able to move and so must take a a final pose, yet after this they will still be able to think, and.. feel. There were several notations which stated that the process could be reversed, but-"
>Glancing at you with a face that either meant 'make it stop' or 'I'm not getting paid enough for this', Amerose's eyes begin to glaze over.
"Zhun, that Duchess is known throughout much of Canterlot for selling 'fully functional, usable sculptures' of highly lewd natures, mostly stallions and mares. Perhaps two or three per month. This means there are many ponies willing to undergo such a secretive process, and knowing how deviant Canterlot's nobility and royalty are, I.. I need to lie down for a while."

4aa04 No.200740

sure sure!

400f7 No.200750

>Previously unaware that your armor had been stripped off, it was heaped around the couch rather haphazardly, the carnelian Ward's snout scrunching in monumental disdain.
"I would imagine so given the large amount of extraordinarily potent elixir that I was 'requested' to inject you with. It would take much for me to even consider utilizing it a second time."
>Nostrils flaring, Nova glances down and waves a hoof, her horn sparking briefly, collecting the pieces together into a pile.
"I am not sure you ought to be thanking me yet until we know the full extent of difficulties you are suffering from, and no, the pegasus stated she had others to attend to, so I allowed her to leave. Mayhaps I should not have."
>Tilting her head a bit, the Ward frowns in thought, then offers a grudging, though polite noise of acceptance at the probably unwelcome shanghai from her medical duties, enveloping both pack and armor into a neat stack above her head.
"Very well, I shall do so, but only to ensure that Bren is to pay close attention to you until the elixir wears off, I am still trying to trea- er, nevermind"
>Clambering down off the couch, and for once not instantly falling asleep under exertion, the Ward follows after you, maintaining a calculating, studious eye contact on your back.

>The cabin's interior was relatively silent, Nova glancing over the exterior interestedly, then raises a questioning eyebrow upwards.

"Should she not be I will demand you spend the rest of tonight and the day in the Clinic, yet I am quite confident she will understand the severity of your situation."
>Ears perking up as hoof steps from inside grow louder, reaching the front at a lazy pace, the door swinging open slowly after a few moments, Bren, either freshly showered or bathed as her mane was still wet, tiredly gazes out at you and the Ward giving her an uncomfortable stare.
>Quickly breaking the silence by glancing you up and down, the engineer's head cocks as she tries to halt a scowl.
"Ya ain't ever gotta knock on mah door Ind, ya know that, but Ah dunno why's the Ward here, thet's gotta mean bad news, an', uh, what'n Tartarus happened to ya? Ah thought ya was gone off somewheres an'.. the hay is thet small comin' off ya? 's like a hunnerd Crystal ponies bled inta a big ol' candle an' lit it right af'er!"
"That would be a sustaining elixir devised by Princess Cadence. It is used to temporarily recuperate severely injured Crystal ponies, the side-effects of which are, to non-ponies, most difficult to deal with. Please start a fire and collect at least four blankets, Indurian must remain as still and warm as possible throughout the day."
"Nah Ah don't but Ah'll git it started, an' ya heard tha gal, git in here Ind afore she starts doin' her Tipsy impression, an' trust me it ain't half bad neither!"
>The Ward immediately stares figurative daggers at Bren snorting in amusement, the ochre mare turning about and plodding towards the small stove in the living room.

400f7 No.200755

>Abruptly turning from calm into either maddened or interrupted, mixed Wardens begin shouting unintelligibly over ice shattering behind you.
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 3 ] <Focused Chorus of Command: Micro-Blizzard Wall

>Shoved backwards at least a foot, the Champion's four eyes, if that is what they were, visibly widen in surprise at the unexpected resistance, large shards of his shield and pieces from the outstretched, three-fingered punching hand rebounding from the pony-creature's head shattering off, the sound akin to steel nails being driven through sheet metal.

>Well braced against the incoming heavy recoil, the first gleaming dart streaks from the Spiker's barrel, partially blowing out the pony-creature's left knee, the second straying high enough and the third taking out the entire rear, nearly severing it.
>In response to the sudden change of balance and weight, the thing's duel against the Champion immediately turns many shades of wrong:
>The creature's neck twists forwards in an implausibly hideous elastic motion as it's maw, no longer anything something that could remotely be called a mouth, wrenches open wide to reveal double rows of vastly elongated canines snapping forwards at the Golem's shield-lance, the entirety of it's barb-tipped tendrils likewise rearing and snapping forwards as one mass towards the shield-lance's center.
>Champion Belregard jerks backwards nearly a meter, bringing the shield-lance up with his right arm, the left swinging behind him into a fist as a counterbalance, bullrushing the short distance forwards to drive the defensive weapon low at the thing's chest, a bright pulse of Ethereal pink racing across the edges towards the tip.
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ] <M.Ethereal Lance
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <Ethereal Scourge
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 22 ] <????? #1
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 19 ]
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 18 ]
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 20 ]
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 19 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 12 ] <????? #1: Regeneration
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 15 ]

>Spotting the seafoam green Crystal filly repeating her seemingly careless dance of rearward bounce, stab forwards, then bounce again, it was now blatantly apparent to you that she was merely keeping her target distracted, the patches of well below sub-zero temperature ice spread across the pony-creature's body were indeed slowing it, yet it didn't seem to be hindered much by the bluesteel spear fracturing a large chunk of it's skull inwards.

>Unhampered by the eye-searing filly's efforts, the pony-creature facing her continues doggedly lashing out.
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ] <E.Assault
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 8 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ] <Frostcrack
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Pull
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ] <E.Evasion
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 6 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 3 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ] <????? #2
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 14 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 11 ] <????? #2: Regeneration
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 11 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ]

>Directly off to the side, the rather plain and unremarkable Crystal pony wrestler was, possibly, winning at the moment; perplexingly her entire body was looking more and more fractured after each assault, at least a good five pounds of multicolored crystal scattered around the small area she'd chosen as combat ground.

>Stranger still, the mare's pockmarked body wasn't bleeding, her relative temperature in the thermals a touch below freezing.
>Forelegs sweeping around the downed pony-creature's already partially collapsed barrel, the mare plants her rear hooves down, then wrenches upwards, giving the abstract flesh horror a brutal squeeze even as it's maw snaps open, biting towards the mare's face as it's multitude of barbed appendages continue stabbing into her fracturing body.
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 19 ] <M.Assault: Crushing Blow
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 16 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 15 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ] <????? #3
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ] <????? #3: Regeneration
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]

>Spotting something above, an abnormally dark colored Crystal colt, at most 2 years old, was leaning over the northwest building's roof, cheering down towards the pro-wrestler mare.

"Break it in half mom! Don't let it get up again!"
>In the thermal, the colt was nothing more than thin outlines, not even registering a temperature.

>In time honored fashion, this was indeed too easy:

>Catching an erratic movement close to Tacit, the ripped apart corpse heaves itself onto its barrel, a front and rear leg spastically moving as if to stand, several of the weaponized appendages jerking inchworm style towards the body.
>The pony-creature's chest, formerly caved in, was beginning to stretch out as flesh and hide regenerate, obscenely crawling over protruding, shattered white ribs, themselves straightening back into place like liquid plastic.

7959e No.200772

File: 1548404917381.png (362.69 KB, 640x480, showers.png)

How would one go about creating a poner operator?

fa987 No.200828

You would start by familiarizing yourself with the Pony Hoofbook in the pastebin.

39d1d No.200886

File: 1548438163617.gif (377.5 KB, 300x168, giphy.gif)

>Jeff observes Nao with restrained amusement.
>Is there any species that doesn't like to nap and snuggle on this planet?
"Huh. Just when I thought I've seen it all."
>He leans down at a safe distance from Shanis, and holds a hand out fro Nao's flipper to… tap in greeting?
"I'm Jeff, Fortress Administrator. Nice to meet a seal, Nao."
>Before the seal can properly greet him, he goes in for the kill.
>And boops Nao right on her little seal nose.

>After his snoot-assault on the seal, Jeff looks over at Sunny exchanging jobs with mercenary.
"There's quite a few jobs one the board that can use some able operators, Sunny. No one here really has any contacts with Dragonspine, either. If you're looking for something to do…"
>He opens up his tacpad and scrolls through his own long list of To-Do's.
"I might have some things I could use a hand with."

4aa04 No.200903

File: 1548446633587.jpg (488.42 KB, 650x472, 1437598675943.jpg)


>It was getting ridiculous at how hard it was to make a magic wall with all the ponies involved.

"Well, its the effort that counts…"

>Lowering the Spikers' sights from his eye the Operator saw he did the exact opposite of helping. 'So much for being easy.'

>He just screwed over Champion Belregard by making his opponent more vicious, he might as well not have done anything at all for all the good it did. And the two other ponies were there to distract the remaining monsters because apparently the Ethereal was the only one able to kill them, if the corpse of the forth abomination was any indication.
>Oh wait it was actually getting up now despite being so thoroughly fucked up.
"So much for being easy."
>Not only was it getting up but Tacit had to be a right pain in the ass and take a nap near the damn thing.
"Fuck it!"

>Putting away his Spiker and with a rev of the engine Lont launched himself and his motorbike forward, aiming his vehicle right at the abomination.

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] >M.Aligned Valor
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 6 ] >M.o.S

1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] >E.Perception
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ] >Thermal
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 7 ] >H.E
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] >M.Charging
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] >E.Driving
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]

>He wasn't mad enough to be ON the Outrider to ram the damn thing, so instead he glanced at where Tacit was slumped over and really really really tried willing himself to drop next to him.

1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] >Warp Translocate
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ]

>Least that colt was having a good time.

fa987 No.200914

>Pareidolia pauses near the doorway as Krinza speaks.

"A Faraday cage, yes. I was unaware we had such facilities. Thank you for the information."

>Stepping out, he makes his way to the barracks to deposit his microscope before returning to his long overdue clerical duties sorting Naliyna's records at the Pagoda.

400f7 No.200923

File: 1548452815333.jpg (447.04 KB, 1920x1439, 169705f1287df17351.jpg)

>Notified of thirty-three wounded sent elsewhere, the image of an ancient port-city appears briefly in your mind's eye, the Support Strikers, now 130 in number, tearing gouges across reality and time, shoving the few that they could save towards the safe haven so close, yet so far, dancing through their thoughts.
1d6+34[ 1d6+34 = 36 ] <Order: Claim Wounded
>Grimly forcing their last dregs of energy from the wells of their minds, and even their own bodies, your Strikers managing the last effort into tactically advising each and every single earth pony in Broken Hoof's and the Lieutenant's Formations to the absolute ends of their equine potential.
1d6+34[ 1d6+34 = 38 ] <Order: Enforce Tactics
1d6+34[ 1d6+34 = 38 ] <Order: Enforce Tactics

>Severed from the Strikers' mental connection through the overwhelming strain, the dull silence settling into your open mind provides the single most welcome, calming release from the stress experienced in maintaining your individuality against the entire Second Dynasty's collected thoughts and minds.

>Breaking free from the now barely walking Strikers into a run, you barely notice the unnatural heat shearing through the MG3's carry strap and falling onto the cobble behind as the comforting weight of the masterpiece weapon filling your hands.
>60 meters from the Watch Guard's flinching central ranks.

>Your sightless, barely awakened Mind's Eye is dragged from the Second Dynasty into Tactician Elwood's singularly focused vision, the stark, nightmarish furious Phantasm Knight, an earth pony stallion that reminded you of an opposite Twisted Wing, snarling in her face as the shattered Eldritch blade above him descends in a cloud of barely material, hostile energies down at the former Councilierge ruler.

(Guess I did learn something new, huh El?)
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 24 ] <Phantasm Arts: Prophetic Denial
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 25 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 25 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 21 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 22 ]
>Momentarily unable to manage the distinction between yourself and the Tactician's chaotic, unhinged thoughts ignoring her brutal spiritual wounds to focus solely on tearing Aura into shreds, the Tactician's unstable psionic powers coalesce into countless subatomic specks of vitriol, the intervening space between present and future blanking out with a desperate series of spatial ruptures.
(You could've accepted my help instead of losing your equinity to that thing's lies-)
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 22 ] <Weakened Grand Crusade
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 26 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 23 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 21 ]

>Not even given the time to mentally stagger from the brief, all-too-real conflict occurring between the former and current Councilierge rulers, the previously dim arcane spite inhabiting the dark corners of your thoughts does far more than tear free fro your hand: it drags a tiny shred of hatred from the endlessly cruel mind inhabiting the Regal Sphere far behind you being carried by one of the Strikers, the distant Aura releasing a piercing scream as his material body forcefully ejects barely contained Eldritch energies.

>As the Phantasm Knight convulses in agony, you become dimly aware of your entire arm embedded with shreds of fluorescent material.
>That was not something you should do again.

>The eastern Watch Guard lines buckle under Broken Hoof's phasing assault, driving her lance through mare after mare as the ancient Tower Guard weapon refuses to lodge itself, an out of control wave of brilliant blue energies visibly rippling through the center of their scourged ranks, both sides suffering hundreds of immediate injuries and dozens of deaths, her cadre suffering less than the Loyalist Watch, all ignoring their losses by the encompassing battle fury overtaking them all, though the thirty-five of her cadre previously shielded tear into their former kin with silent intensity, suffering little more than bruises in the process.

1d6+35[ 1d6+35 = 40 ] <Knight-General Broken Hoof
1d6+18[ 1d6+18 = 20 ] <Knight-General's Cadre
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ] <Traitor Watch Guard
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 16 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard Command
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 21 ] <Western Loyalist Command

>Dealing the second most severe blows of the civil war yet, the unnamed traitor Lieutenant cackles as the mare's charge snaps her lance off in the first loyalist's chest, turning to crush a second's helmeted skull inwards with the remainder, then gleefully counting the now overwhelmed loyalist Watch Guard thrown back by a venomous detonation of gleaming red energies.

>Double Spear Formation shoving back the loyalist line in the Lieutenant's wake, they fare considerably better than Broken Hoof's drastically under armed, hooved, and armored forces, counting fewer losses, though the problem now became one of pitting many shattered or bent lances at close range against the mixed, moderately well commanded ranks of Journeyers, Experts, and Moderatis Watch Guard.
1d6+24[ 1d6+24 = 26 ] <Lieutenant
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ] <Lancers: Close Combat Tactics
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ] <Traitor Watch Guard
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 16 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard Command
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 24 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard

(Hurry your asses up down their, Watch ranks are swelling quicker, they can't reach the Square until they've plowed through the snow so get going right now Prince or else you're getting trapped in the middle of them!)
(Most of the non-combatants are gone, there's maybe half a thousand left!)
(That Changeling's turned and gone south, looks like the Centurion found a stone we missed-)
(What the fuck are you doing Shieldmares?!)
(Then let's follow her down, we can't let those damned mares have all the honor today!)
>The Scouts cease their duties of keeping Mind's Eyes on Stalliograd's activities, the scant few mares reclaiming their weapons and rushing down from their higher positions towards the Vanguard, mentally screaming as her body contorts into something else entirely while a double squad of elite Centurions at the southern end of the Main Square begin their advance, their leader racing ahead of his unit.
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <Roust: Basic Shapesifting
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 13 ] <Scouts: Charge
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] <Shieldmares: Charge
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 10 ] <Centurion Cliff Flank
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 8 ] <Centurion Squad: Charge

400f7 No.200973

>The obvious fracturing of tones between Imperial and Kingdom Wardens is ended by a furious demand, the hard, ringing voice of a half-feral Crystal mare shouting for order to be maintained or swift executions will be doled out immediately.
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ] <Focused Chorus of Command: Blizzard Wall

>Despite your negative consideration, the Champion's quartet of eyes flare in renewed hope as the shield-lance tears through a host of the barb-tipped appendages to slam home through the right side of pony-creature's chest, it's maw shredding off one of the rear-facing spikes and sending it flying into the air.

>Embedding the shield-lance a third of the way into the flesh golem, the thing collapses atop it while a strobing burst of pink burst occurs from within, the Golem's left arm rearing back, the hand reforming into a sharply tipped cone fingers before driving down at the head snapping towards the upper shield's roll, Belregard's solemn tone barely reaching you over the clash.
"Your honored aid shall be sung in praise yet I cannot destroy such beasts alone! Open a path that we may deliver to rest one of these trapped vessels from this plane!"
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ] <M.Ethereal Lance
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] <Ethereal Scourge
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 18 ] <????? #1
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 16 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 19 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 18 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 14 ] <????? #1: Regeneration
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 13 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 12 ]

>Skipping around out of your sight, the filly's spear haft finally shatters as the blade embeds into her target's face, though the sound of her screaming in rage from behind and a rush of skin-crawling cold managing to penetrate your armor's protection for a split-second indicated she'd definitely changed tactics.

1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 8 ] <E.Assault
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 8 ]
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 11 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Power
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ] <E.Brutal Parries
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 6 ] <E.Evasion
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 6 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] <Permafrost Breath
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]

>Trapped in a deadlock with her chosen target, the bizarrely untiring Crystal mare emits a strained grunt of effort as she heaves the ruined pony-creature into the air above her, the flesh horror shredding off chunks and shards of crystalline from her body, and now missing most of the space between her snout and eyes.

>Taking a short hop forwards, the wrestler slams the flesh horror down with all her weight in a passable Batista Bomb, the matchstick shattering of what few bones could even remain nothing compared to a flurry of crystalline shards scattering in every direction from the violent maneuver.
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 14 ] <M.Storm Tactics:
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 14 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 16 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 16 ] <????? #3
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 18 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 15 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 18 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 9 ] <????? #3: Regeneration
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 11 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 12 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 12 ]

>Revved to it's peak, the Outrider's modified tires shred into the crystalline ground underneath as it lurches forwards, the distinct blur of stepping through realities occurs, a visibly surprised, definitely ancient near-feral looking Crystal pony ghost's jaw drops as you pass by her.

>Landing armored knees down roughly two meters left of Tacit passed out atop the still-convulsing corpse, the stallion was covered in a plethora of heavily bleeding wounds, mostly from the Ward's weaponry, though a hefty number of jagged barb injuries were present.

21a5a No.200989

File: 1548461507425.gif (2.83 MB, 757x1201, 1556953__safe_artist-colon….gif)

Done so. Just out of curiosity, are changelings off the table? No mention of them in the pastebin.

400f7 No.200994

"You are welcome, and good night to you."
>Waving a hoof farewell while the door closes, Krinza stares about the Workshop, eventually landing on the Panhard and gravel underneath it.
>Absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck with a borrowed flathead screwdriver, the smith turns his focus to Spiral's table, then grins as an idea comes to him.

>Passed by a wing of close to the ground flying helmeted Tartarus Air Corps. pegasi, at least twice as many more than you knew were normally stationed the base, the last mare snaps a quick winged salute, calling out behind her.

"New rotation for the night, checking on the wargs first sir!"

>Entering your barracks, it was likewise silent as the Workshop had been, save for a mess of empty ammunition tins, packets, bags, and boxes strewn around the den's center, recently stuffed assault packs and spare medical satchels stacked in both corridors.

>Reaching the Pagoda with no other interruptions, it was now a bit more lively than before:
>On the west side, Shanis was still taking up the largest pony couch, head propped up on a stack of gifted mangoes, only now clutching a bright white seal between all her legs, an unarmored and lightly clothed Jeff finished booping the young pinniped.
>On the opposite couch, Tipper was fast asleep, curled up near the middle and snoring lightly, while a white pegasus in a close copy of Thrill's sneaking suit was speaking to Naliyna, a small band of black around her head, the way it sat likely indicating an eye patch.

99fef No.200997

>Sunny fluttered her wings, turning to look back at the others, lilting tone to her voice in clear amusement at the boop.
"Polar Seals, Mountain Seals, there's a few kinds of Seals I guess, but I'll be damned if I even knew they existed until I met Late Pepper. Living in the Dragonspines, no less. I thought I was hallucinating when I did, that and the raspberry flavored snow… Turns out Seals do live on mountains as well as ice fields."
>Pausing to consider a moment, the mare shrugged.
"Others I've spoken to are as surprised to see them return as I am to learn they exist, that's about all I know if I'm honest. Which is embarrassing."
>Considering Jeef's offer with a long, silent stare at the human, the pegasus nodded. Gratefully.
"If you've got literally anything for me to do at all that doesn't involve me abducting another bottle of liquor from the Mess, I'm happy to do it."

>Twitching an ear at the snort, Sunny attempted to ignore the answer.
>She could not.
"I mean I thought to give these to you to post so I can go immediately get whatever it is you need… Gotten? I suppose I can just trot over and quickly do it myself if you don't need me to go be a courier immediately. I've got little else to do and I've been more or less told to take the rest of the night off."
>Hah, there was plenty of night left with which to do things. If she took an actual break, she was just going to consume as much liquor as she needed to consume to black out anyway.
>Probably not a good idea to do that, it might set a bad impression if she were caught with her muzzle constantly wrapped around the neck of a bottle.
"Well, to be perfectly honest I haven't even slept in my bed since I've been here, so I wouldn't know. Thank you anyway, how much does it cost?"
>The minute she asked, she knew Naliyna was going to tell her it wasn't something she'd have to buy.
>If Doctor Tipper were awake, she might consider this retribution for leaving her with a pouch full of bits.
>Sunny prepared to sigh. She should probably just accept it and move on instead of haggling over increasing the price.

400f7 No.201021

>Laying her head back down, and either trying to ignore the mangoes making up her new pillows or simply not caring, Shanis lifts her right wing, waving it in a confused circle.
"Just don't go to Tartarus right now, it's… weird to put it lightly."
>Shifting about to face you better, the seal's smile deepens even further, speaking in a slow, excited manner that absolutely didn't match her appearance, except for nagging insistences in the back of your mind that she was much too young to be hanging around Shanis, let alone Razorback.
"Greetings Jeff! There's a lot of us around Tallus but we left to secret places when a big silver pony did some dumb stuff."
>Flipping raising, Nao breaks out into squeaky giggling, eyes closing while both flippers raise to cover her face.
>Curiously, Nao's snout was cooler than a pony's and a bit less soft.
>The Mercenary Queen wiggles backwards to mostly free the seal, also causing the mangoes to spill across her chosen couch while she mockingly points her suited wing in your direction, a bare trace of sincerity coming into the worst possible impression of a nagging mare.
"Please stop that Jeff, she's only been here for however long and doesn't need to be shown how absolutely diabolical humans ar- I can't keep this up, seriously how does Tipper do it?"

>Perking her ears up, Shanis lifts her head and ends up staring in confusion at the pile of fruit, blankets, and pillows above her head.

"That reminds me.. what the? I had a bunch of contracts here earlier, where'd they go?"

>Naliyna returns to sorting and stacking, though keeps her good ear swiveled in your direction, Shanis speaking up with a rueful tone over the seal's giggles.
"Not even gonna ask how many seals there are, this one's cute enough. Betting there'll be a thousand reports in my tent by the end of tonight asking why there's seals showing up again. As for the flavored snow prank that's not uncommon, plenty of sorcerers, mages, dragons, even a few mystics use it."

>Setting another folded stack of Saddle Arabian carpets into the tent-stall, Naliyna shrugs, then wave a hoof down at the four stacks of papers on her table.

"Just put them here and I'll get somepony to do that later since everything's a mess right now. Still waiting on a receipt for something to show up before I do much else, but if it doesn't there's going to be a really weird meeting that I'm definitely going to need somepony coming with me for."
"You know my dear, you can still run before she catches you. Then again, don't run, it'll be even funnier to save you from such a deserved punishment!"
>Unaware that Discord was camped out somewhere that you could hear yet not see, the trader turns back to you, her lips pursing tightly and eyes narrowing while she deliberates over the untold possibilities she could inflict.
>Visibly settling for a good one, the fuchsia mare smiles in a deliberately slow, worrying manner, giving a light hum and setting the blanket down on your back.
"Weeeellll.. I'll make you a deal. There's a few things I've been quietly trying to get ahold for a while now, found one but not any of the others. Let's just say whoever owns that one has no interest in getting rid of it, even though they probably should. I don't want it done until everything settles down here, but when you do I'll make sure your room gets the best stuff, sound fair?"

4aa04 No.201022


>As soon as Adon used Igni on himself, the biting cold that sunk deep into his muscles and joints melted away. A gentle warmth akin to a summer high noon replacing it.

>Behind him and now several feet away the Slaver Minotaur swung his massive two-handed mace at a real spectre. The thing was made out of roiling fog, the edges of its body a translucent layer of magical energy. Its head was that of a horses' skull, not an Equestrian but an actual horse from the Witchers home. Except for the fact it had a long thin horn jutting out of its cranium.

>This ghoulish image did not dissuade the Minotaur from swinging his weapon right through it, wisps of mist trailing the studded steal head of the mace. 168/210
>The ghostly visage was not static either, for it was spinning and turning through the air until it had surrounded the Bull, trailing tendrils of fog condensing into thin gnarled claws that racked at the Minotaur, drawing bloody grooves in exposed hide despite harmlessly brushing along the toned muscle. 308/340

>Angrily mumbling about how this was above his pay grade, the Bull grabs the handle of his weapon with both hands and twists his form to do a full body swing, displacing the encircling mist with the force of his blow.

>Quickly reforming the spectre lets out a distant echoing Nay and formed around the Bull again, spikes appearing to spear all around the Slaver.
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 14 ] >GM.Assault
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 16 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 16 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 18 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ] >Burning Cold
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] >Mist Cover

>Getting her wits together the Unicorn howls as another Lightning bolt fired out of her horn, the magical shot blasting a clear hole through the ghost, one that had trouble filling up even though it was made out of mist. 149/210

>Distracted, the Minotaur did not notice the Witcher move up to his left leg and swing a sword at it. The weakest point Adon noted was the area between the Calve and Hoof. Cold steel sliced into bone, tendons severing and making the Bull stumble now he suddenly lost use of his left leg. 295/340

>Thankfully for Adon the Gryphons did not jump in to help their comrade, or even notice as they had both spotted the untied and now fleeing prisoners. "Dun you run now!" "Bastards lot of ya!"

1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] >E.Movement
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ] >E.Movement
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ]

>So preoccupied by chasing their escaping future payments they did not register the old Unicorn male until they were basically on top of him.

>Not that he minded.
>With a flick of his horn a renewed golden aura washed out like a tsunami, bashing the Gryphons backwards head over paws.
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] B.Reaction Speed
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ] >E.Telekinesis
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ]

fa987 No.201035

>Pareidolia continues onward, acknowledging the flight wing with only a brief glance as they pass overhead.

[Uncertain why they are reporting to me. Must be part of a new deployment.]

>Ignoring all the possible distractions at the Pagoda whether human, pony, or seal, he seats himself back where he was a couple hours ago to continue organizing Naliyna's receipts, audit logs, and recruitment letters.

[If someone touched these… ]

>He also briefly checks behind him to confirm the Construct hulls he had asked Naliyna to safely keep were still accounted for.

2aa5f No.201039

File: 1548485931343.gif (2.36 MB, 500x281, when you crit in melee.gif)


Master Aligned Valor: +8 for 4 turns to combat, +1 to movement
Master M.o.S: +2 for 6 turns to combat, adds two extra rolls for combat


>'See, much better! It only took some mare going half insane and threatening to kill them all to improve.'

>Belregard was taking it really well, good enough for Lont. He even began to hope he was just overreacting to the Champion and he was in fact a super chill. 'Wait no, don't get your hopes up-'

"Trapped vessels wat?"

>Glancing at the mare and how she was doing some sick ass bomb moves, it was painfully apparent she was not going to survive this battle if Lont did not kill the reanimating abomination fast!

>He expected something similar to using the Translocation Stone but not something so instant with lingering after-images. Though that could of been an entirely unrelated ghost face.

"So that's the vessel eh, the Wards have been busy."
>Lont spat, whatever the Wards inner circle intended with such monsters it was certainly not for picking daises and helping old mares cross the street, that was for sure.

>Seeing his bike smack into the pony thingie the Operator brought out his Alchemy Tablets and got to work on fixing up Tacit. However he kept the Citrine tablet for himself just in case.

"Get up and get outta here lazy bones."
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ] >M.Medical
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] >Heal ability (Onyx)
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] >Heal (Ruby)

>With Tacit not being so fucked up now Lont took up his sword, flame blazing bright as he charged the monster.

"As a medical professional you will feel a slight burning sensation from this!"
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] >U.Punmancy
>'Oh god that was terrible.'

>charging in he looked for a good spot to plunge his blade that didn't look like it had any mouths or spikes would eat his face off.

1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] >E.Perception
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ] >Thermal
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 3 ] >H.E

1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 2 ] >M.Reaction Speed
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 4 ]

1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 17 ] >M.Assault
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 19 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 21 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 22 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 20 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 22 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] >Flameshock
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 18 ] >Charge

400f7 No.201040

>Finding the stacks untouched and Naliyna very carefully avoiding any disturbances to them, you notice a small gleam of bright orange inside the tent-stall, mostly covered by stacks of carpets taken from Pear Blossom's mansion, as well as expensive, brightly colored brand new blankets.
>The attempt to cover the wreckages was either working well or none had seen fit to inspect the interior, which was being quickly filled.
>On the far side of the couch, the scar-covered mare shoots you an apologetic smile as she continues folding and stacking, tilting her head towards the tent-stall in a tiny motion and mouthing the words 'that good enough?'

>Interrupted by a white sheet of paper popping out of a clear rift on the translocation matrice, the trader gets up with a huff and trots around the table to it quickly.

"That's mine, nopony look!"
>Snagging the page and returning to her seat, Naliyna lifts it up to stare at, her expression changing into one of puzzled relief.

400f7 No.201049

>Much more in tune yet still rather dull in comparison to the City-State's many traveling singers, the crackling of ice ends as presumably the southern alley entrance is fully sealed off, their singing continuing unabated except for the half-feral shouting out another, unclear order.
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <Focused Chorus of Command: ???

>Unseen now though close enough to hear all too well, the Champion's fervent struggle is heralded by multiple cracks, the first a series of punctures into skull, several more including further shredding of the Golem's shield and a remarkably loud cracking noise.

1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 20 ] <M.Ethereal Lance
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 17 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 18 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] <Ethereal Scourge
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 17 ] <????? #1
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 19 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 15 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 18 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 14 ] <????? #1: Regeneration
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ]
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 16 ]

>Audibly enraged beyond recovery, the Crystal filly's hooves can be clearly heard shattering her targeted flesh golem's weaponized appendages amidst resounding blows to hide and bone, another chilling blast freezing the intersection for a split-second's notice.

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 12 ] <E.Frenzied Assault
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Power
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ] <E.Brutal Parries
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 4 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ] <E.Evasion
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 4 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 3 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] <Permafrost Breath
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 9 ] <????? #2
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 11 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 11 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 13 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <????? #2: Regeneration
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]

>The north wall of ice, and perhaps even the intersection itself if you weren't mistaken, tremors from the mare's power slam causing small cracks across the face.

>Vaguely heard over Champion Belregard and the filly, another series of matchstick snaps occur behind you, these ones far more gruesome though considerably fewer in number.
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 15 ] <M.Storm Tactics: Reverse Slam
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 14 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 18 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 13 ] <????? #3
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 14 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 13 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 12 ] <????? #3: Regeneration
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 8 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 10 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 10 ]

>Slapping as many of the large self-sticking silk bandages that could fit into one hand on the closest visible wounds, the tablet contacts on Tacit cause him to release an unconscious, tortured exhale, the earth stallion's coat veritably rippled from visible muscle tears; it didn't seem as if he'd be waking up soon unless other efforts were taken.

>73/400HP, Bleeding, Unconscious!

>Sighting the Outrider's fork, bent backwards towards the engine, the pony-creature's lower neck and barrel had been crushed in once more, a momentary surge of grim delight at the damage caused also trapping it underneath, though the barbed tendrils scattered around it reminded you of New Everfree Lashers, only much smaller surrounding, had ceased to move for now.

>Remarkably, the front tire hadn't popped on impact, yet the frame was greatly twisted out of alignment, both of the mirrors had shattered off, the MG249 was nearly wrenched off it's mount, and the gas tank was tilted; an impressive result, really.

>Whether or not the flesh golem was capable of understanding the clinically underrated pun, your blade's edges burst into flame while you note the dazed thing was unable to focus on much of anything, let alone defend itself at least for now.

>Leaping the short distance to the abomination, the Mural Blade slams home into the fully exposed central chest cavity, it's tough hide and reinforced bone offering no resistance against your equine-equivalent strength, penetrating through entirely and cracking into the crystalline ground underneath, though you could feel it wasn't stuck.
>Maw opening in reflex, the flesh golem's head twists towards you, neck sluggishly extending through shattered joints to snap double rows of canines towards the closest hand.
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] <????? #4
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <????? #4: Reaction Speed
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <????? #4: Regeneration
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ]

dc7f5 No.201108

File: 1548519370526.jpg (800.07 KB, 1680x1050, 1414751339181.jpg)

>Squinting in the dim light, Ivan glanced around before turning his head towards the sound.
"I can agree with that. I'll find someone to teach me."
>While he knew it was supposed to be safe, he couldn't help but instinctively begin reaching for his sidearm…
>Until the mare came into view, then he relaxed. Giving her a nod, he gave a greeting of his own.
"Привітання і привітання колеги-сталкера."

dc7f5 No.201109

>Grimacing, Bubba watches as the mystery mare chomps down on Soft's neck, before glancing down to watch Rest get up and recover from being tossed into the crowd below.
>"These ponies certainly fight with a lot of gusto, even if its not on a real battlefield."
>He'd have to remember this in case he ever had to fight one.

dc7f5 No.201111

"I wouldn't know the first thing about equipment to resist a nuke."
>I'd hate to see how thick a tank would have to be to keep from being destroyed by one.
"Well… That's good to know at least."
>A quick, ten minute dive, if even that. And I even have cold are now!
>I can't help but grimace at her conclusion to the scanning, but I make no move to stop her from walking into the water.
"Меня беспокоит то, что ты не замечаешь."
>I do take a moment to take in the underwater view, the first time I have ever been able to.
>Snapping out of my thoughts, I look at what she was talking about.
"I'd say that's an old wooden shipwreck… Old being from me, I believe they still use sailing ships here though."

39d1d No.201115

>Jeff looks at Shanis quizzically, but none less nods in understanding.
"It is? I'll take your word for it."
>After Nao's explanation, he reels back satisfied with his nose boop.
"A big dumb silver pony would do that, wouldn't she? Hmm, eh I got what I needed in."
>He resists to boop the seal again, but withholds after Shanis's light-hearted scolding.
"Have you been in the clinic lately? She keeps a lot more than just chill pills in there."

>The Ranger looks at the pegasus with piqued interest that she even responded positively to his mention. He scratches his chin, at her initiative.
"Really now? Let me see."
>Jeff scrolls through his tacpad… he hasn't touched any of those yet. And he's had them for quite a while.
"How do you feel about crypts? I have a location of one in the Moor's that needs salvaging. It's half submerged though, so I hope you don't mind getting a little wet."

>Noticing Pare, re-enter the Pagoda. Poor bastard got stuck doing paperwork, since the Citadel, it looks like. And with all the Construct salvage in the corner under wraps, it seems like he had a long night ahead of him. He figures not to bother him with his own work.

39d1d No.201122

>The Witcher was really grateful his Igni kicked in, else he'd be having a cold hard time right now.
>Staving off most of the intense chill, he gets back most of his bearings after he gets a good satisfying slash through the minotaurs left back ankle. He easily felt his blade go through the important tendons, and it didn't even notice him strike the blow since that conjured spirit was holding most of his attention and doing its own damage.
>He looks around quick to assess the other bandits. The unicorn was firing off bolts of lighting at the specter, and the gryphons were being held off by that old unicorn in the group of captives. By now he can already guess the ghost was of his own conjuring, giving it's magical outline and his medallion's hearty vibrations. Telekinesis while holding a corporeal spirit in form. Pretty powerful, unicorn to hold two constant spells, he guesses.
>He still needed more time for his magic to replenish before he can use another sign, so he backs off from attacking and makes a dash for the prisoners. The old unicorn had helped out this much so far. The two of them could probably hold them off until all the others were safe.
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 7 ] <B.Sprint
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 7 ]
>Dafely flanking the tumbling gryphons, he puts himself between the remaining prisoners and any able-bodied bandits, bringing his sword up in a guard and looks over at the old unicorn with a determined smirk on his face and yelling over the commotion.
"Thanks for the help, old man. I severed the big guy good, in his leg. Can probably focus on the others!"

b316f No.201129

File: 1548528005789.gif (373.04 KB, 480x270, cat-fireplace.gif)

>Indurian turns to give Nova a kind smile and a light headpat
"My sincere thanks, to you and Lady Ironmane. I do hope I shall see her again, so that I may give her my thanks in person."
>he shuffles into the house, grabs the door with one hand and turns to Nova one more time before closing it
"You seem… terse. But I can see your kindness."
>with this, he closes the door at last
>travel blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, Indurian begins making his way towards the fireplace, finding himself a seat and promptly letting himself fall into it
"My apologies, my dear - it would seem that I failed to keep you aware of my business of late. You have been so, so very busy that I decided to keep this to myself. But it seems my mistakes have caught up with me, and now, shamefully, I must ask you to delay your work to look after me…"
>Indurian takes a deep breath, partly to rest his weakened body, and partly to prepare himself for telling his story once again
"It all started with a seemingly simple mission: Sir Ivan and myself were to accompany one Pred-Elk, named Sparkling Fluer, to go and rescue another of her kind, Brume Gale."
>he recounts his tale to her in full, this time even attempting to suss out the name of that strange, red place he'd visited
"…I believe it was called the, 'sanfoo-ill-leach-ah.' Yes, I find myself just as puzzled at the name. But, there it is…"
>finishing his story with the daring moment of escape from the giant tentacle robot, he pauses for a moment to catch his breath, then continues
"Once Ivan and I arrived, we left the severely injured Elks to the care of Tipper and her clinic. We attempted to hide, fearing reprisal for our failure to protect them - a stain on my knight's honor, a grievous one indeed! - However, it was not to last."
"That general, Twisted Wing, she savagely beat Ivan and I to nearly an inch of our lives. We both suffered, 'Severe head trauma,' as Tipper phrased it."
"I pretend no moral judgement for or against Twisted Wing for her actions - any leader would demand just punishment for something such as this. Perhaps she was a bit barbaric in her severity, however I personally do not fault her for punishing us. It is simply a fact."
"Ignoring to heed the advice of the medics, I left the clinic as soon as I felt able. I kept myself active for some time, ignoring the returning pains in my head, the dizziness… Eventually I wound up slumped over the mess hall bar - a loud noise from close by was all it took to send me back into darkness."
"Thankfully I was rescued by Nova Flicker, and a mysterious mare who identified herself as Gale Ironmane. And now, here I am - battered, cold, and more than willing to heed the advice of the doctors this time around."

6942a No.201132

Pareidolia gives a curt nod to Naliyna at her mouthed question and returns to organizing all relevant sheafs and papers by date according to category.

[Need a proper filing and repository system, otherwise future records will be lost.]

400f7 No.201161

"Sorry Captain, I've only lived in Stalliongrad and on Tartarus Isle, never been anywhere else."
>Offering Raidor an embarrassed look, the young pegasi's ears perk up in relief.
"Great! There's too many ponies and.. well, seals and some others on the Isle's beaches right now, can't even find a place to swim, so I thought Dayi's spa would do the trick."

>Glancing at you reaching to the holster, the mercenary's eyebrows furrow in confusion, then shakes her head.
"I'm not entirely sure what you said but you have a good night too! I'm gonna get in before anypony else thinks to come here and soak up the heat."

>Raising the entirely wrong left wing for a very shoddy salute, the mare scurries down into the tunnel Ivan and Raidor had just left, the red lamp dimming quickly.

400f7 No.201166

>The brawl takes an even stranger turn as the unnamed mare barely moves from the headbutt's impact, Soft-Kill's entire body falls limp from the bite, jaw dropping to expose unusually large, sharp mixtures of blood-drinker and fruit-eater canines as her eyes glaze over.
>Throwing a foreleg under Soft-Kill's chest, the mystery mare's wings extend, three oversized wingclaws grasping around Soft-Kill's barrel, preventing her from collapsing.
>Whether the mare's intention was to simply render Soft-Kill weakened or drain her enough into unconsciousness wasn't apparent, though it definitely wasn't for lewd purposes.
>Managing to stand albeit shakily, Rest snorts in a manner reminiscent of an angry earth pony, head lowering and storming in with a loud kee of umbrage.
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Soft-Kill: Resist
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <?????
1d6-1[ 1d6-1 = 1 ] <Rest

>Noticing the batbookie squeezing her way through the still-silent crowd, the blue and green painted mare spins about and leans against your seat, muttering in an audibly impressed tone up at you, the closer wing lifting to hold up a well worn silver 10 Bit coin.

"Here, first round tied. Just found out those three really are early generation batponies, and they're Dusk Striders too."

47585 No.201172

File: 1548538285475.jpg (43.7 KB, 500x375, OH LAWDY THE SKOOMA'S KICK….jpg)

>Aw, damnit!
>No time to stop and grab it, gotta keep running!
"Hey! Someone grab that, the last thing we want is for it to be taken by researchers and made to be used against us!"
>Happened once before.
>Results…not pretty.
>Feeling my body stumble as my vision is ripped away to Elwood's vision, I fumble to make sure that my steps are still on the correct path to join with my friendlies.
>My mind a jumble of thoughts that are not my own, I reach out a hand and…


>Okay, I'm not sure whether to be grateful or worried that my arm is pockmarked with shiny bits.
>I guess I'll let it be, and unless it starts hurting then I'll pay it no mind.

>I continue to run towards the lines, at the same pace I was before, my twinblade rising as I prepare to strike as soon as I meet the lines.

1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] <E. Speed
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]
>As the enemy lines become closer and closer, my mind starts to blink out of all the worrysome thoughts, focusing entirely on the white-hot intensity of charging headfirst into death.
>Gone was the spastic series of thoughts regarding how I could get as much beings as well as myself out alive.
>Gone was the drowning cacophony of voices and thoughts in my head.
>Gone was anything but the target in front of me.
>And as I close the distance, my twinblade falls upon the enemy lines, a roar in my throat and piercing gaze from my eyes.
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 22 ] <M. Assault
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 22 ]
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 24 ]
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 20 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 26 ] <Charge
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 13 ] <Cretalva Poison
>With the blow struck, I mind the potion stuck to the handle, ready to use it at any opportunity.

>Falling a little bit back to reality, I send a thought over to Broken.

(Alright, we're stuck in now. Ideas on how to get as many of the Dynasty as well as ourselves out of here?)
>And Roust found another stone?
>Great, but now I have to worry about getting there with as many bodies as possible.

400f7 No.201175

>Tossing the schematic of her ruined hull back onto the left screen, the cartoon Android examines it for a few moments, the hands then thrown upwards with a tiny electronic noise of irritation.
"I can't even calculate minimum armor requirements. Primary Priority Five replaced: research enhanced armor improvements. Primary Priority three changed: find some damned information related to side-effects involving humans consuming equine biomatter and equines consuming human biomatter!"
>The miniature model disappears along with the schematic, Wild's left hand rather carelessly digs into sand, revealing long rotted timbers, small glints of two now bent, large bronze rings along with a single long, twisted steel plate coming into view.
"Term: ship, analogue to vessel. Term: sailing, refers to.. unpowered or powered vessel locomotion on water. Query: what are the uses of such a vessel? Bronze and steel located, preparing hull replacement, stowing primary weapon."
>Collecting the unusually large rings and plate into her hand, you finally notice a small red clock, one of those newfangled digital ones, now counting down from 10 minutes.
>Wild rocks briefly as the materials are placed in another cabin, left and right hands dig into the sand once more while six long, thin metallic tendrils, different from the medical implements, can be seen diving into the sand.
>You had to wonder, with some fear, precisely how many of them she had and what their uses were.
"Scan completed, there are no potentially dangerous bioforms within five hundred meters. Initiating basic repairs, close range sensor sweep, and deploying remaining retrieval implements. Natilda, there is a large amount of retrievable materials that I will be unable to store, please advise priorities."
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Right: Scavenge
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Left: Scavenge
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Retrieval #1
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Retrieval #2
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Retrieval #3
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Retrieval #4
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Retrieval #5
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Retrieval #6
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Arcanum Sensors Array
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair

dc7f5 No.201198

"We've been together for a couple months, Wild. If there were side effects of the three of us 'consuming each others biomatter' I'm pretty sure they would have surfaced by now."
>"Why am I having this conversation with her?!"
"We used to use sailing ships to move cargo and passengers over the oceans, they faded away to steam and fuel powered ships that could haul more cargo at a faster speed than a sailing ship could, and without dependency on the winds."
>I shift in my seat as I watch her collect the metal.
"I would suggest not using the bronze as a permanent armor solution. It won't be able to really stop anything, especially with how long everything has been underwater."
>I chew on my lip for a moment, before sitting back.
"I would recommend getting the Lumin, gold, platinum, and a balance of the materials you can't identify."
>After thinking for a second, I add.
"If you can only grab one of them grab the Lumin."

99fef No.201199

>She found herself looking around at the sound of Discord's voice, where it had come from she had no idea, or any idea if anyone else had heard that.
>Sunny shifted under the blanket now perched on her back, at least it was keeping her back more or less warm. There could be worse things than walking around under a blanket.
>Deserved punishment be damned.
>She opened her mouth to protest, more to point out the fact she was already getting paid to do things for Razorback, then thought better of it.
"I…! Nevermind, let me know when you need it done and I'll see what I can do about it."

>Sunny turned to look up at the human, who was scratching his chin and staring at her.
>In surprise?
>He must have had this to-do list for a long time. Good for her.
"Any nasties in there? Undead and the like? Because I'm not sure I have the equipment to keep old bones down for long, but getting wet shouldn't otherwise be a problem."
>Maybe she could politely ask them if she could loot their crypt.
>Assuming there were Undead.
>She hadn't said yes, she should probably do that.
"That's more or less a yes, sir."

2aa5f No.201202


>Somewhere out there in the distance, Adon felt rather than heard, a faint cackling 'KEK' sound in response to his pun.

>The 360 degree swing of the large mace distorted the air, blowing apart the spectre. It having more and more trouble to condense back into itself. 113/210

>Solidifying, the haunting apparition surrounded the Bull once again, where spikes thrust out of its misty mass and stabbed into the Minotaur. A trickle of blood dripping out of his growling mouth. 268/340

>Fallen down to one knee with a hand stabilizing him, the Minotaur held his mace in his other hand and lifted it over his head and with an exerted grunt slammed the ground. debris of mud, snow and roots exploded into the air. The impact displacing said air one more time.

>In retaliation the ghoulish spectre condensed around the Bulls' neck.
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 14 ] >GM.Assault
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 13 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 14 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 15 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ] >Burning Cold
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] >Mist Cover

>Seeing the coast was clear to do so, Adon ran for the old Unicorn. Half way there he spotted something jutting out of the snow, not breaking stride he bent down and grabbed it in a close fist. "Hello there human!" Said the pony in a quite joyful tone despite the current situation.

>Looking at what he picked up, the Witcher was a bit confused at what he saw. It was clearly some sort of trinket with a broken string attached to it; from how it felt the thing was made out of hardwood. Interestingly enough it was three carved out Gryphon heads stacked on top of each other. His medallion was vibrating at it too, not that it was needed, he could feel the magic encased inside of it. There was no way it would of been left here randomly, perhaps it was blown off one of the Gryphons.

>"I believe this belongs to you?" Looking away from his hand to the Unicorn, his Witcher' eyes were directed to the ponies back, where waving at him was the Chiqtu. "Thank you for freeing us, but I believe its time to leave as my Summon won't last forever."

>At this the two Gryphons had finished scrambling to their paws and claws and leaped at the old Unicorn, whom sparked his horn alight to blast the two Slavers again.

1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] >E.Movement
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] >E.Movement
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] B.Reaction Speed
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ] >E.Telekinesis
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]

>After seeing her fellow Slavers being blown away and the human running to the once-captured Unicorn male, the female and younger Unicorn snarled and sent a new blast of lightning his way.

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 11 ] >E.Bolt (lightning)
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ]

400f7 No.201205

"I do not know where Gale is at the moment though I will notify her of your request."
>Ears wiggling merrily at the compliment, Nova Flicker opens her mouth to speak.. but of course her eyes snap shut, collapsing onto her side dead asleep before she can say anything.

>Finding a brand new overstuffed couch replacing Bren's older one in front of the fireplace, a single pillow and blanket tossed in the middle, the ochre mare turns her head back to you, frowning speculatively.

"Don' make me repeat mahself Ind, ain't mad, jes' damn worried. 'sides thet e'erypones been busy since yes'erday night an' half th'humans 'round'ere been gone since dusk."
>Tossing a few chunks of black wood inside the stove, Bren pokes her head inside, bright red flame jolting off her horn, shutting the door and spinning about to sit down, listening intently.
>Once you finish she places a hoof in the middle of her snout, cutting off a grumble and turning it into a frustrated sigh instead.
"Ah'm either drunker'n usual or she saw th'future weeks ago.. Ah swear if'n ya'don't start listenin' ta those thet's got good intentions then yer gonna wind up losin' arms or legs, or yer life an' Ah cain't deal wit'thet, so you better git yer bed rest 'til ya feels decent. And, no Ind, th'second Ah see Twisted she's gonna die. Maybe Ah'll jes' cut 'er 'ead off an' mount it on 'er wall. There ain't no excusin' 'er damn gallivantin' 'bout thinkin' she's high queen of this fucken place. She's gonna be taught respect even if's Ah gotta git mah hooves bloody."
>Glancing back to check if the fire was going, which it was, Bren glances up to the ceiling while rubbing her chin.
"Ya know.. Ah've heard of this 'Ironmane' from Hodch, one'o them Lunar Councilmares, got one'o 'er colts workin' here too. Bad part is she ain't somepony oughta be pokin' round 'ere, Gale hates mercs worse'n Ah hate Belltower's damn puns when she's sauced. Th'fact thet she helped ya without sayin' ya owe her's odd but Ah'm guessin' Tipper or Hodch warned 'er what'd happen if'n she demanded somethin' outta it. Hope them elks git treated right though, Ah'd be real sad if they're crippled."
>Leaning backwards, Bren's ears twitch back and forth several times apiece, hoof lifting with a focused stare to press against her snout, placing it down to raise an interested eyebrow at you.
"Cain't 'xactly say Ah know what'n thet name means 'cause it sounds like somethin' outta Neighreland, but'cha said this castle fell 'part, do ya 'member where's it was? There's a favor Ah've been lookin' to… les' jes' say 'burn' fer a while now, maybe she kin find somethin' more 'bout where thet thang went."

39d1d No.201207

File: 1548558258956.jpg (113.24 KB, 2224x2224, MaximumEffort.jpg)

>Spotting the item in the snow, Adon snatches up the wood carved pendant and into his hand. Was it one of the gryphons'?
>Finder's keepers, then!
>Approaching the unicorn, the Witcher sees the chiqtu on the old unicorn's back. So that's where he went!
"For the time being."
>Adon nods in agreement with the unicorn, beginning to back up with the other captives.
>As the old unicorn kept the minotaur and gryphons at bay, the young mare was standing alone to attack them.
>She charges her horn with lightning, aiming it at his magical comrade.
"Look out!"
>Immediately, Adon changes his hand grip and throws his sword like a spear into the ground in front of himself and the unicorn; between them and the mare.
>And right into the path of the oncoming lightning, as a grounded lighting rod.
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] <B.Reaction Speed
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ] <Light Stance

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] <E.Assault: Light Stance
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]

400f7 No.201208

>Lifting her right wing to shield her head so only you could see, Shanis scowls before mouthing the words: 'Sweet is missing', turning the motion into plaintively rubbing her covered right ear, covering the last few seconds with a passably disbelieving grin.
"I'll just say that the beaches are lined with Mountain Seals, Polar Seals, Volcano Seals, Swamp Seals, River Seals, Great Seals, Cave Seals, Plains Seals, Jungle Seals, Tallus Basilisks, Tallus Harpies, and those weird Kra'ken things, just to name the ones I remember from history classes. There's even a bunch of Druids and some Ferron I've never seen before that showed up. So, trust me, you really, really don't wanna be there right now. I came here to get away from a quick storm, but then-"
>Pausing to hug Nao, finally calming down from her fit, the marecenary snorts.
"Hollow convinced me to go with him, Roust, and that human Undead to some place in the Northern Empire Wastelands.. which, I'll save that story for later. Anyhow, I went back to the Isle for a bit, and then all those were there. Ain't dealing with that right now."
>Rubbing her flippers together, Nao's smile hitches, turning into a sudden and heavily out of place angry frown for a split-second, recovering her contented look with a plaintive whisker twitch.
"We're better now, that's all that matters. Besides, I was told that ponies have great food, so mom let me leave the Colony to find new stuff to eat. When I found Miss Shanis she gave me a cod, I've never had one before but it was great!"
>Facially struggling to articulate a proper response, Shanis flops her head back down onto the mango pile, snickering dourly.
"You better be joking Jeff, I can't even hoofle three beers let alone half a puff from Tipper's poisonous crap! I'm telling you one day she's going to get so stoned she turns into diamondine, she's that crazy."

>Seated as she was, and not showing if she'd heard Discord, or his snickers, Naliyna's left eyebrow arches in a clear 'I win this round, you!' motion, lifting her forelegs into the air a foot as an adhoc shrug.
"It'll take a while to make sure it's not guarded and I don't want somepony getting caught doing anything for us they shouldn't be. I'll try to let you know a night ahead of when we'll try to snatch it."

2aa5f No.201210

File: 1548559405975.gif (977.47 KB, 427x240, 1395723357037.gif)


Master Aligned Valor: +8 for 3 turns to combat, +1 to movement
Master M.o.S: +2 for 5 turns to combat, adds two extra rolls for combat


>'Its the best they'll get.'

>Blood curdling shrieks and a variety of chilling cracking sounds filled Lonts ears, audio signs of everyone pushing themselves to their limits against unmoving fleshy walls.

"Kill my target, then move onto the next one and quick."

>He was still bleeding but Tacit will live longer now, it was all he could do at the moment without being blind-sided by the one unhindered monster.

>The sight of his bike totally ruined made Lont wince, it can be repaired unlike everyone else here if they're killed, he reminded himself.

>Stabbing through the damn thing felt really good, sadly he did not feel anything akin to a Core or something similar. 'So I have to destroy the whole body huh?'

>Seeing the abominations' mouth go for his hand Lont twisted his upper body and swung his sword in the direction of the mouth while it was still inside its body, hoping to cut most of its mass open and ending with the offending maw neutralized by the same slicing cut.
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ] >Crystalline Shield
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 8 ]

1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 4 ] >M.Reaction Speed
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 7 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ]

1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 21 ] >M.Riposte
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 21 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 19 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 21 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 20 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 20 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] >Flameshock
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 19 ] >CQC

>Quickly slipping one hand off his sword pommel the Operator grabbed the Burst pendent and shoved the actual pendant itself in the monsters body while he held the chain from the outside. 'Fucking risky but have not time to be slow and safe!'

1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 21 ] >Firestorm

400f7 No.201211

>Holding the paper over in front of your mask, the trader's eyes dart back and forth across the Pagoda as she mutters quietly, visibly unconcerned at the price, or more likely having worse issues to deal with tonight.
"I think somepony likes you.. or something, I dunno exactly."
>Reading the precision written bill of sale, each of the weapons that you'd picked out were listed with a scrawled '-10%' next to each, the hoof writing blocky and unfamiliar; at the bottom was a simple line of text: '513,000 Bits worth of gems'.
>Setting the page down in the paid bills pile, Naliyna gets up once more, then does her best not to draw attention while walking towards the translocation stone, tapping once and stepping into a quickly forming dull purple rift.

39d1d No.201212

>Squinting lightly at her, to catch onto lip-reading, Jeff's eyes widen ever so slightly at the realization. He resonates an 'Oh' back to her.
>After divulging the rest of Tartarus Isle's recent… events, Jeff leans back and takes it all in tentatively with a nod.
"Wow, that's quite a bit of commotion. I'll keep my ear to the ground for anything you might be 'lookingfor'."
>He just realized something. He had put a tracker gem on Sweet a long time ago, when they took her back into Stalliongrad. Jeff looks down at his tacpad, and opens up the window for active gems to see if the one he had labeled on Sweet was still active and tracking her. A low chance, though. It probably fell off her when all her armor was removed.
>While he does that quick, Jeff's eyes widen and mouth waters slightly as Nao talks about food.
"Mmmm. Cod's great beer-battered and fried with some tartar sauce. Now I'm hungry for fish and chips."
>At Shanis's disbelieved face, Jeff snorts and looks over at the napping Tipper.
"Heh. Yeah, she probably will."

>So this pegasus is still interested even after all his mentioning.
"Impressive. I like your spirit! Uhhh, what's your name? Anyway I'm not sure what's in there, but there's only one way to find out! I have an idea to counter any spirits, specters, etcetera. I'll be back with my gear in ten-fifteen minutes or so. If you need anything, get it now and meet me back here."
>Jeff preps to leave the pagoda, not before giving Shanis and Nao a proper 'bye' before exiting and heading to his house.

>Now outside, Jeff opens a private radio channel.

*"Hi Mercy, it's Jeff. I'm doing a salvage in a crypt in the Moors. Would you be free to help me… fend off anything undead or spectral? Can't think of anyone else more qualified."*
>Finally making his way to the Batcave, Jeff enters and heads into the kitchen where he dumped all his stuff before. While he waits for a response from the bleach white pegasus, he begins putting his armor back on and checks over the gear he wants to bring.

39d1d No.201213

>Captain Raidor lightly chuckles at the recruit's stumblings.
"It is alright. Enjoy your time in the spa."
>As she takes off to where they just came from, Raidor sighs contently at Ivan.
"Ah. There's something to be desired from bright-eyed recruits. Come Ivan, back our task at hand."
>He takes the lead on Ivan, and heads toward the translocation stone.

99fef No.201231

"Sunshine, but I just go by Sunny."
>The human seemed surprised at her willingness.
>He must not get many goal oriented people around here very often. That'd explain the to-do list.
>That or most ponies weren't eager to disturb the buried dead, and the other humans were busy with other things too often to perform tasks such as this.
"I'll be here, sir."
>She already had everything she needed, it was a question of offloading things
>Construct relic.
>Contracts. Which she might as well post herself instead of making Naliyna do it, she had her hooves full enough as it was.

>Speaking of…
>Naliyna had a smug look on her face, time to change that.
"Okay. Also I think I'll just go post these contracts now since you don't need me to do anything immediately."
>Stepping back to trot over to the command center, Sunny noticed Doctor Tipper again, and immediately deposited her recently acquired blanket over the elderly mare.
>She had more immediate use for it than Sunny did.
>With that done, the pegasus all but cantered off towards the command center.

c9dbd No.201233


>From the Minotaur's ground slam erupted debris that was so explosive they acted as shrapnel that blasted holes through the equine headed apparition. 95/210

>In response it wailed something unrecognisable and condensed around the Bulls neck, it visibly tightening against the sudden restraint. 228/340

>With a forced bellow of anger the Slaver throws around his mace frantically around himself, swashing away choking mist.

>It was becoming more and more transparent with each passing moment, the features of its skull face softening into an unreadable blob of fog. That did not stop it from causing patches of biting frost across the Minotaur to form though.
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 18 ] >GM.Assault
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 13 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 15 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 14 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ] >Burning Cold
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 19 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] >Mist Cover

>Upon hearing Adon talk about it, the little white furball pouted slightly before jumping off the back of the unicorn. Landing in the snow with a soft thud it began crawling around the area where the prisoners used to be. "It sure has a personality for such a small animal." Mused the old pony as he glanced between the Witcher and the Slavers.

>Over a dozen yards away the group of runaways could be seen, as their distance grew more and more trees obscured their fleeing bodies. "They know where they're going human, don't worry about them."

>Horn lowered the moustached pony released another wave of telekinesis, however he was too slow, and was bashed to the ground with the combined weight of two leaping armoured Gryphons. 99/120

>He did however get his spell off, even if his face was half buried by snow he blasted the catbirds. "Ya bastard!" "Imma cut yer horn off and shove it up ya ar-" Both Gryphons landed harshly right next to the frantic Minotaur and disappearing spectre, the frigid cold of its presence still potent enough to cause the Slavers to buckle and stumble.

>Unable to defend himself, the Witcher stepped forward and saved the old Unicorn by throwing his sword in the ground near the extinguished fire. The arching lightning bolt blasted against the steel blade, and apart from the metal being heated the electricity harmlessly returned to the earth. "YOU FUCKING BITCHMARE OF A HUMAN!"

>Screaming at Adon the young Unicorn ignited her horn and blasted a ball of fire at the white haired human.
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ] >E.Bolt (fire)
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 11 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ]

>On the snow covered ground the older Unicorn mumbled something and his horn lit with magic, him saying something about a change of tactics or sweet apples or something.

1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] B.Reaction Speed
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ] >E.Confusion
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ]

>Hoisting themselves up, the Gryphon Slavers squawked bloody murder at the Unicorn, both stomping towards him with beaks snapping and wing spikes pointed at the ready.

1d6-3[ 1d6-3 = 0 ] >E.Movement
1d6-3[ 1d6-3 = 1 ]
1d6-3[ 1d6-3 = -2 ]
1d6-2[ 1d6-2 = 2 ] >E.Movement
1d6-2[ 1d6-2 = 3 ]
1d6-2[ 1d6-2 = 4 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ] >B.Assault
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ] >H.E
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] >B.Assault
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 13 ] >H.E

dc7f5 No.201310

>Watching the first round come to an end, Bubba let out a bit of an impressed hum.
>"I'll definitely need to read more into how these ponies fight."
>Of course, it looked to him like Rest was not going to win this.
>Though, he shrugged and nodded as he collected the silver bit from the bookie.
"Early generation batponies?" He asked in mild interest.

39d1d No.201314

>Adon looks on at the captive putting some good distance from the commotion. Must be nice.
"It was his idea to help you all. I'm more concerned about us, at this point. I'm stalemated with the miss, over there."
>Speaking of, the mare was beyond pissed his lightning rod of a sword actually worked and grounded her attack.
>He looks over to the chitqu, and whistles to catch its attention.
"Think you can distract her, for a bit?"
>As he gets the small bit of help in, the unicorn charges her horn up with red fire, and sends it his way this time.
>He gets his footing in the snow and dodges the flames and over toward the unicorn.
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <B.Evasion
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <Light Stance
>Just in time to see both gryphons readying to attack the old geezer.
"We need to hold them long enough to make a getaway. Also I'm down a sword."
>Adon draws his silver one, switching his guard between the approaching gryphons and the distanced unicorn mare, hoping he won't have to heavily blunt the monster-specific blade.
>At this point, he's too close to his ally to use Yrden else the old unicorn's magic would be affected by it. The gryphons and unicorn mare are too far away for Igni or Aard to be effective, and pushing at either one could leave his with little options to mount a counter and potentially protect his ally.
>He readies himself to cast Quen, and stays on guard to protect their flank.

b316f No.201319

File: 1548632789086.jpg (511.08 KB, 1355x1080, shesgonnabetaughtrespect.jpg)

>beginning to feel the cozy warmth of the blankets and the fire
>the sensation begins to make his eyelids heavy
"Mmmm… well, go easy on her, dear…"
>before he succumbs to sleep, he wakes slightly to ponder her question
"Hmmm… From what I remember, the land was a part of something called… oh, what in the blazes was it, again… Ah! That's right! The land and the fortress both once were a part of some organization called the, 'United Regions Alliance.'"
>he pauses to think more
"And… to the best of my memory, I recall the area being rather cold, and barren."
>With this, he lets out a big yawn
"But, my body grows tired, and I am ready to begin my recovery… post… haas…"
>whatever he was saying, slipped away from him, along with his mind, off into dreamland
>K.O. !!

400f7 No.201324

>Sensing a vague impression from the Support Strikers, one of the youngest acknowledges your request with mental static.

>Bare feet crunching into glassy, hot stone underneath and reaching a stride that nearly every unicorn in Equestria would be fanatically jealous of, picking through the bizarre red-white-orange-yellow colorations narrows into the image of a heavily armored Tribune focused directly upon you.

>Bringing two brutally large, triple-bladed hoofclaws up, the mare rears back on hind legs partially, stabbing both sets directly at the twinblade defensively.
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 18 ] <M.Parry
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 22 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 18 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 19 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 19 ] <Crushing Force
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] <Stoneshatter
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ] <M.Reaction Speed
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]

>Cut from the Second Dynasty's thoughts, the Knight-General's response are two blurry images, the first of eight medium sized translocation discs, only a few civil earth ponies remaining and rushing into into the open portals in double lines, then a single much larger matrice at the far north end of the Main Square covered in steam.

1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ] <Tactician Elwood
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ] <Aura, Phantasm Knight

1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 10 ] <Primus Wandering Steps
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ] <Tarusian Crest Regiment
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] <Centurion Cliff Flank
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ] <Centurion Cadre

1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ] <Knight-General Broken Hoof
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ] <Knight-General's Cadre
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <Traitor Watch Guard
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 11 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard Command
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 10 ] <Western Loyalist Command

1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 12 ] <Lieutenant
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 10 ] <Lancers: Close Range Tactics
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] <Eastern Traitor Watch Guard
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard Command
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <Roust: B.Shapeshifting
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 15 ] <Vanguard Close Combat Tactics
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 12 ] Scouts: Charge
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <Shieldmares: Charge
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 8 ] <Centurion Cliff Flank
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ] <Centurion Squad: Charge

47585 No.201329

File: 1548636709852.png (339.18 KB, 672x443, A N G E R Y S K E L E.png)

>Good, something to keep my mind off of impending death for a while.
>Which, ironically, is potentially death itself.
>Funny how these things work.
>With a manic grimace, I break the twinblades apart,attempting to catch the Tribune off guard by rushing in suddenly, intent on driving her off her hooves and on her back.
>And hopefully ending with the swords in her neck as well.
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 23 ] <M. Assault
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 22 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 26 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 23 ]
1d6+21[ 1d6+21 = 26 ] <Close Range
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 12 ] <Cretalva Poison
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] <M. Reaction Speed
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]


>Yeah I pretty much figured that.
>The question is, when can we leave?
(First time you get the opportunity to either break away for the stones or break through to the far matrice, you let me know.)
>And that's all I can spare, as the enemy in front of me needs my attention to make sure I don't get my innies turned into outies.

fa987 No.201330

>Pareidolia glances up briefly at the note.

[A ten percent discount on each item? Why? She seemed displeased at the information shared, not enthused.]

>He rubs his chin before returning to his work, keeping an eye on Naliyna as she departs.

[Will need to acquire that 5mm pistol when it arrives…]

400f7 No.201333

>Sliding back onto the left screen, cartoon Wild stares down at you, the left fist shaking at you while giving double doses of clinical anger and scientific scorn before disappearing off the opposite edge.
"I'm looking out for your health Natilda! It could take years for negative side-effects to begin showing symptoms, neither of us knows what latent side-effects can occur! What if you start growing equine ears or hooves or become a vegetarian and only be able to eat hay?! Do you have any idea how difficult surviving on such a diet would be or the difficulties of being provided medical assistance due to erratic mutations?! At the very least think of keeping your potential foals genetically intact and not hindering your mates!"
>The speaker beeps once at the new information, a small diagram of the vessel's outlines forming on the right screen, though one of Wild's tendrils ceases moving on screen, then continues searching through the wreckage.
"Suggestion noted. I should be able to use bronze for additional ammunition if I can scavenge combustible materials.. new Secondary Objective added: researching utility ammunition variants. Retrieval priorities updated, resuming scavenging protocols."
>The cabin's air temperature finally drops under 90 degrees, the fan clicking down several notches while a bewildering array items are dragged up through the sand, the Eldritch Android's hands and metallic tendrils moving carefully so as not to cloud the water:
>Two slightly rusted steel spear heads, hull armor slats, small iron beams, one crushed bright white pony styled helmet, dozens of coins, a dully glowing silverish bar, one bent blueish-purple harpoon, one bright green sphere, a short chunk of pink rod, numerous large gem stones including one that appeared to be black, two thin sheets of orange plating, and last a mangled set of dull red chest armor that only a minotaur could have worn.
"Alert: exterior hull repairs slowed, I'm unable to remove damaged armor plates underwater. Five material identifications complete: blacksteel, mythril, kanpri, greensteel, neodymium. Searching databases for relevant data.. error, databases incomplete. Natilda, are the names of these materials familiar?"
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Right: Scavenge
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Left: Scavenge
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Retrieval #1
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Retrieval #2
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Retrieval #3
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Retrieval #4
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ] <Retrieval #5
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Retrieval #6
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Arcanum Sensors Array
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair

400f7 No.201345

>Bolstered by another voice, this one younger and less forgiving, the impromptu singing session is driven into a somber, darker tone.
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ] <Refocused Chorus of Command: ???

>Either quickly becoming Planar flakes or making some headway, a sickening crunch of bone is heard, quickly followed by a nauseous taste of burning Ethereal energies and frantic scraping.

1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 16 ] <M.Ethereal Lance
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 18 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 20 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <Ethereal Scourge
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ] <????? #1
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 15 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 18 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 15 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ] <????? #1: Regeneration
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 11 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 13 ]

>Dimly heard from the south, several abnormal shatters occur in strange trajectories, the Crystal filly meanwhile raggedly gasping for air.

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 5 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Refresh
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 6 ] <????? #2: Regeneration
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 4 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 3 ]

>Whether able to function through stamina that would make any minotaur concerned or incapable of tiring, the wrestler's hooves can be heard thundering west along with scraping of bone on crystal.

1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ] <M.Storm Tactics: Rush & Crush
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 16 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 18 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 14 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ] <Charge
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 12 ] <M.Sprint
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 12 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 13 ] <????? #3
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 13 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 17 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 15 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ] <????? #3: Regeneration
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ]
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 11 ]

>Barely before the pony-creature could bite down onto pale pink shield covering your hand, twisting the Mural Blade horizontally, the now white hot edges rip sideways through the pony-creature's unnaturally hard barrel and neck bones, finally slamming to a ringing halt in your hands, the flesh golem's lower jaw shattering from the rear and buckling outwards at disturbing angles.

>Unable to snap at the bright red gem, the creature's entire head vanishes in an abrupt fiery tornado, the intense heat shattering through the shield and scorching most of your armor's tassels off, the heat barely noticeable even though the pendant appeared perfectly fine.
>The flesh golem collapses back down under the Outrider, an acrid stench of scorched paint, burnt leather, and gasoline immediately filtering in through your helmet, though the twisted creature's body remains still a number of the bone-tipped barb appendages once again begin inchworming their way towards the corpse.
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <????? #4: Regeneration
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ]

015bf No.201349

>Clem, noticing the new activity abound on the mothership, keeps his eyes on it
>He takes note of the two spheres
>New models among the fleet
>And it looks like the mothership is on standby and primed
>Like waiting for something
>Clem continues to watch the feed, seeing if there is anything new

015bf No.201352

>This is sounding more and more deviant
>Living statues in lewd positions?
>Like a sex doll, only with more work
"I can't tell you how wrong this all sounds."
"Very wrong."
>Zhun looks ahead at the door where Pearl Lake went through then back at Amerose
"If you're right, then how does she get the bodies? Or convince them?"
>Zhun looks again
"Maybe that spy is what was doing?"

133d1 No.201353


>Roaring his bloody roar with gruff low voice intensifying, the Minotaur once more made the ghostly visage into an unremarkable cloud of mist. 53/210

>The bulls' frantic movements shook off the patches of ice, but not before burning deep under his fur. 188/340

>Sluggishly, the Slaver tossed around his weapon about with tired arcs, steaming body and breath adding to the misty surroundings. In response the encompassing fog caused more sheets of ice to form around the Bull, albeit slower.

1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ] >GM.Assault
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 16 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 15 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ] >Burning Cold
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] >Mist Cover

>Looking up from its scrounging the furball gave Adon a 'really?' stare, before squeaking and jumping for cover.

>Seeing the shot coming helped, however it was faster than the Witcher anticipated. Thankfully it didn't impact him and rather exploded off in the distance, the snow covering the ground vaporized. Apart from an uncomfortable hotness on his face the Witcher was unharmed. Also the snow that had stuck to his hair was gone too, he no longer having "white" hair.

>Still grumbling about something from his spot in the snow, the old pony raised his head high with horn alight with multiple colours melting into each other as a swirling cone. "cover your eyes."

>Doing so Adon felt his medallion shake violently and a displacement of wind 'WOOSHED' from the Unicorn.

>Opening his eyes again Adon found nothing had happened. That is until he looked at the Slavers.

>The female Unicorn, after missing the human had her horn lit up again for another fire ball, now though she was stumbling backwards, planting hooves into the dirt to stabilize herself only for a knee to buckle and send her off to wobble around some more. "Wha- where is grrr- ond…"
>Same with the Gryphons, the murderous intent in them stomping towards the old pony was replaced with confusion, both bumping into each other and wings flopping out of sync. "Ya tripping me up ya git-" "-stahp pushin' me off dis cliff arsehole!"

>"A nifty bit of confusion will give us that getaway. Grab your sword and little friend, we're leaving." Standing up and shaking the dirt and snow off his coat, the old Unicorn closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in concentration.

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ] >M.Teleportation
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ]

133d1 No.201355

File: 1548652821210.gif (1.05 MB, 300x278, #purgedfaggot.gif)


Master Aligned Valor: +8 for 2 turns to combat, +1 to movement
Master M.o.S: +2 for 4 turns to combat, adds two extra rolls for combat

>Lont ignored all the noises, the singing that turned to a darker tone and the constant sound of ponies breaking themselves apart. Though the crunch that came from the Ethereals direction did make him think Belregard was winning.


>Exhaling, he replaced the spent pendant. It worked and that is all that mattered, like his bike his clothing can be repaired too.

>Speaking of his motorbike, he stared down at the quivering creature that hid under the carcass of his Outrider, the combined stench of the scene making him wrinkle his face in disgust.

>He grabbed the handle of his bike and pulled it off the pony thing, he did not want to swing a fire covered sword when there was a gasoline leak coming from his vehicle that lay on top of his prey.

>With a grunt he stabbed his weapon down into the mass of mutated flesh and broken bone, twisting the blade around as the flames licked out.

1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 21 ] >M.Assault
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 22 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 19 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 18 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 18 ]
1d6+16[ 1d6+16 = 20 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] >Flameshock
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 19 ] >CQC

dc7f5 No.201366

>I just dryly look at the mini-Wild.
"That's for future me to worry about. Current me is more worried about getting us back to the Fortress alive."
>Furrowing my brow, I search my limited knowledge of metals unique to Tallus.
>Unfortunately I don't recall anything except mythril, and that was from books back home.
"I only know about the mythril, its supposedly a lightweight metal that's stronger than steel, practically indestructible."

400f7 No.201500

>Shanis' expression lightens as she gives a small, curt nod, right ear twitching around in a circle indicating her thanks.
"Might be a few weeks before everything settles so I'm figuring on sharing a tent with one of the Blades here until the Isle calms."
>Bringing up the global map, the marker for Sweet simply read: 'Target out of range'.
>Head tilting downwards, Nao blinks curiously at the unfamiliar terms though rubs her flippers together, tongue sticking out of her lips with a hungry sounding noise.
"I would like to try those later, but I was supposed to do something first and.. I forgot what that was."
>Patting the young Polar Seal with her right wing, Shanis grunts as she sits up, joints crackling from the effort.
"Gotta get up and stretch anyways, can't lie here any longer or every damned batpony here's going to stick mangoes in places I don't want to think about so I might as well do something useful. Catch you later Jeff, I'm gonna show Nao the mess hall."

>It takes a few seconds for the static of an open line to come up, giggling from batfillies in the background apparent as Mercy's rather slurred voice perks up in extensive interest.

*"I have the time to do.. so, will be at the Pagoda.. quickly. Malyne, Patches, you may use.. my room as you wish, but.. avoid the two new pegasi here.. they are not to be trusted.. understand? Good, I will return.. later, be careful please."*

>Finding nothing different except for a black tomahawk, the red and gold drakescale wrapped handle covered in lines of purple and black, a short note from Krinza was placed next to it: 'Request completed; still worries me. Is this weapon alive?'

>Given a succinct smile of finality from Naliyna, the fuchsia Crystal mare returns to her stacking duties, calling over her shoulder.
"Thanks ahead of time. I put a bunch of new ones from Shanis up but they've all been taken already, mostly small stuff. Lot of humans around here are starting to get worried so don't expect much available for a while."

>If a reaction was expected from the passed out Doctor, the only ones you receive are a relieved sounding snore and small ear twitches.

>Finding the lone covered structure quite easily next to the all-steel building, the Bulletin Board's request section was quite sparse, a single posting from Shanis for a client to study artifacts, the other wanting a group of humans for a band.

>Placing the first four Hive contracts up, the fifth caught your attention due to the exquisitely expensive gold-trimmed vellum paper, various specks of dried blood covering it, and the oddly scrawled codes underneath.

400f7 No.201515

>Regardless of Soft-Kill emitting a long, drawn out moan, the situation turns quite weird as the sound wasn't lewd in the slightest, the mare's eyes tightly shut while her face contorts in visible agony.
>The unnamed batmare is dealt a quick series of blows, the first being Soft-Kill ramming her right knee into her opponent's unprotected barrel, the second and third being her wingclaws taking hold of the mystery mare's own wings, the fourth ending in a sideways jerk, Soft-Kill throwing her weight into the other mare's relaxed bodily state.
>As to be expected, this ends up with Soft-Kill body slamming the unnamed mare into the wharf's decking with a pained squeaky toy noise, though her opponent continues biting into Soft-Kill's still exposed neck.

>Meanwhile, Rest's charge falters after the first step, slamming face first into rough hewn lumber, giving out a tired kek as her eyes shut sleepily.

>Somewhere in the still silent crowd of pegasi and batponies, a single annoyed neigh is heard.
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Soft-Kill
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <?????
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Rest: …Resting

"They're from the first to tenth generation batponies, the 'originals' back when Tallus was still wild and not even remotely nice. What I've heard is Princess Cadence was the one that caused batponies to come into existence, something about making a species that Luna would like, half-bat and half-pony, which led to, well, us."
>Bushy painted eyebrows furrowing, the batbookie's left wing reaches up to scratch the back of her neck, an honest look of seriousness given at the displays of ferocity and incompetence in plain sight.
"Most of the older bats have either heard rumors or read old some of the Cult's books on it. It's kinda hard to explain without talking to somepony in the Cult… which I'm regretting right now. Half what that mare said is weird, the other half I can't even try to understand."

400f7 No.201516

>Head turning left several degrees, Bren lifts her shoulders in mock submission, though the malice in her grin states the opposite.
"Sure, sure, Ah'll go… 'easy', but jes' this once, an' only if she asks me real nice like."
>Creating visual mental notes, phrases in Common Equestrian, backwards of course, form in the air before disappearing, the ochre unicorn's eyebrows raise briefly, then lower in a hard set grimace.
"Well well well, ain't thet grand.."
>Lifting a foreleg, warm imprints of hooves settles on your cheeks before the sweet release of not-death embrace your consciousness.
"'ave a g'night Ind."

1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Bren
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Split Nail
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Unicorn Twin #1
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Unicorn Twin #2
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Work Crew
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Favor

400f7 No.201519

>Any thoughts of preventing impending doom were immediately halted by the Tribune's defensive stance clashing your aggression to a screeching halt, the mare's archaic hoofblades sending streams of sparks off the twinblade into the air, reducing your nearly recovered vision once more into smears of solar colorations.
>Dante: Blinded!

>Countering most of the initial blow, the Tribune allows herself to be shoved backwards, the force not enough to throw her, instead dropping onto a front hoof, three clicks of hardened steel being the only indication of the landing while an unasked for voice, mature, confident, and worst of all experienced speaks through a calm, aggravating mental tone that threatened to become real.

(You really aren't the one that fat teated alicorn promised, you don't even have a mare to call your own! You humans could do far better than these spitefully naive fillies, just tell them all to leave peacefully and I'll show you the superior qualities of a good, truly submissive mare-)
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <Taunt
>Severing the one-sided mental link, sharp whistles slice through the air separating you and the Tribune, accompanied by a relieved snort, neither contemptful nor hostile.
1d6+18[ 1d6+18 = 24 ] <M.Assault
1d6+18[ 1d6+18 = 23 ]
1d6+18[ 1d6+18 = 22 ]
1d6+18[ 1d6+18 = 20 ]
1d6+18[ 1d6+18 = 19 ] <Flurry
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] <Stoneshatter
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <M.Reaction Speed
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ]

1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 8 ] <Primus Wander Steps
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ] <Tarusian Crest Regiment
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ] <?????
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] <?????

1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 12 ] <Knight-General Broken Hoof
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] <Knight-General's Cadre
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ] <Western Traitor Watch Guard
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard Command
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 7 ] <Lieutenant
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] <Lancers: Close Range Tactics
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ] <Eastern Traitor Watch Guard
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard Command
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] <Roust: B.Shapeshifting
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] <Vanguard Close Combat Tactics, Impeded
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <Scouts: Close Combat Tactics
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 9 ] <Shieldmares: Close Combat Tactics
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 11 ] <Centurion Cliff Flank
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 7 ] <Centurion Squad: Charge

>Receiving little from the rest of the Second Dynasty save for threadbare impressions of acknowledgement filtering into your thoughts, the same vanish quicker than they occurred.

1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Event

400f7 No.201521

>Continuing on with sorting throughout the relatively unclear stack of bills, and finding a large number that had no connection to Razorback and were merely being kept to compare current year prices, you come across another odd page, this one marked by Spiral's hoofwriting:
>A bill of sale was listed for 280,000 Bits immediately payable upon delivery of the signed bill itself to an obviously private translocation coordinate in Canterlot, further addressed to one 'princess Yearning Touch via dam princess Golden Beet Jam', the lack of capitalization indicating that the royal title was a literal descendant of Princess Celestia herself.
>The bill continues on with a large number of book names and library identification numbers, the titles all on historical references, early volumes, and questionable works focused on the Solar faction.
>At the bottom was Marquis du Spiral's heavily stylized hoofwritten signature, while underneath was a half page of human notebook paper, Spiral explaining to his 'later selves' that this bill was a copy and not the original intended to be delivered since the original was in the possession, of all beings that could have or should have been chosen, Inquisitor Aguina Velasi, also known as: Flash.
>Underneath this was a low band radio frequency: 9.63, followed by smug wording from Spiral detailing that he didn't expect others to suspect a platonically kind relationship with Flash, let alone even consider anypony, or anyone for that matter, dealing with the convincingly hostile woman-turned-mare fairly.
>Either Naliyna had simply skimmed through everything she'd collected so far, or there were a few shenanigans going on that were, previously, unknown to Razorback.

>Dimly aware of a dull red and pink gateway opening on the translocation stone, Naliyna dragging a number of long, bright white Empire crates out using her teeth and old fashioned earth pony-like application of brute strength, each of which were similar to the ones in Astra's armory, each likewise bearing Princess Cadence's Cutie Mark.

>Releasing a sigh of relief as the Vortex tunnel closes, the scar-laden mare lifts a front hoof to rub her chin, head cocking as she stares down the sixteen storage containers, muttering to herself quietly.
"Not sure whether to be impressed, tired, done with tonight, or all three.. ..whatever's in these had better be important because my legs are sore."

400f7 No.201523

>Reaching the extent of its capabilities, the M-S.O.L.G.'s aperture lens ceases trying to zoom in further as the new focus was too grainy to identify much.
>Watching through semi-drunken yet focused eyes while the satellite returns to the previous setting, the Construct mothership remains still while small pixels moving in front of the silver vessel lodged inside it were the only real indications of activity.
>Without any alert, the M-S.O.L.G.'s threat designator becomes active once more as the two far smaller spheres begin moving northwards, a notation popping up that they were above Crystal Empire territory, though the one fading from view behind the mothership launches a single silver dot from its underside.
>Configuring a primary tracking mode, the satellite's telemetry begins calculating a descent vector beginning somewhere in Equestria, refining to the Moors, the image overlaying onto a relatively recent map of Tallus' currently night side, then finally solidifying into several lines of text indicating a plus or minus two percent chance of landing somewhere near the southern Crag Moors with an estimated time of arrival to be half an hour, mostly due to H20 slowing down its entry.

>Unlike the first, the second Construct sphere seemed to be entering an orbiting position, that is until the object lodged into the mothership is briefly obscured by several pixels of white.

>Three seconds pass as the lens refocuses once more, the slim silver vessel torn free of the Construct mothership and beginning its own rapid descent, a new trajectory calculated for it on a far southern course: close to Basin Village in the Moors.

99fef No.201526

>Sunny quirked her ear, considering the list of names for assassination again.
>Quickly penning her own note with a wing tip, the mare detailed the Halberdier's offer.
>'An off-the-books offer has also been made to acquire the highly demanded services of a "certain shadowy and nameless pony" for both Razorback and Tartarus Isle should at least one of these targets be eliminated by the end of the week, no further details on who this trainer is and what they teach.'
>There was also the slight chance some of the cores bought by some of these names may yet remain intact, though the chances were slim, Sunny penned down a second note to recover any intact cores as a secondary objective.
>'Also more or less a reminder to keep an eye out for any intact Changeling Cores in the possession of the targets, it's unlikely any still survive, but just in case.'
>Though she personally considered that a primary objective with the actual assassination itself a secondary one.
>It put her mind at ease anyway to have another reason for doing this, and if she actually found and recovered any intact cores, all the better.
>She took a mental note of the first name on the list before leaving straight for the pony barracks.
>Sunny did not want to be lugging a construct artifact around on a salvage operation, she'd likely be carrying enough as it was.

400f7 No.201530

>Amerose manages to make a barely heard noise of acknowledgement, front hooves lifted and placed gingerly on her eyes whiel the mare's voice turns small, near-hysterical tremors of sanity rapidly being depleted coming through her voice.
"I have never heard let alone thought of anything even remotely this disturbing. Not even Luna's necromarecy experiments or the Hegemony requiring widowed minotaurs to die on hopeless missions compares to this.."
>Hearing nothing from the prison's entrance save for a muted, dim hum of illusionary fields performing their functions, Amerose was barely on the winning side of resisting the urge to pass out from shock, the Lorekeeper's eyes shut tightly as she inhales slowly.
"I can often sense when a pony's intentions are honorable or when they lie. I do not believe, nor do I have any suspicions, that the Duchess is forcing ponies into such a state of existence. Despite many advances in magic and alchemy there are still many ponies that die each year from wild magic, poorly understood diseases that resist treatment even from unicorn doctors, curses, or simply cannot be saved from mortal wounds inflicted to them. As strange as this may seem based on your relative lack of knowledge about Tallus, this will no doubt sound beyond twisted to you but.. perhaps she is granting the single best favor that a pony could ask for at the end of their life, even though it is so.. horrifyingly depraved."
>Setting her hooves down and staring hollowly at the quickly cooling tea cup, the robed Lorekeeper's expression lightens.
>Just a bit.
"Given the nature of her name's meaning and the unutterable information we have discussed, I do recall that the particular Enclave where the report was written was inhabited mostly by Lunar military forces and nobility of Canterlot. Logically speaking I can only assume that the Honor Guard knows of the Duchess' activities, which does align with a spy being present for some time in her mansion. However-"
>Cutting herself off with a now exhausted, bleak stare at the table, Amerose exhales slowly.
"This is far too much. I really, really need to go lie down.. perhaps for the rest of the night."

47585 No.201614

>Oh shit.
>Okay, we can do this.
>Just…try to focus on the sound, close your eyes and focus…
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] <E.Perception
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ]

>Great, so now not only am I blinded, I'm facing an experienced opponent.

>Also without my armor.
>You know, she really could have tried harder with that insult.
>Though the first bit kinda stings a bit to be honest.
>But hey, maybe I'm the one they asked for but the one they needed
>At least, that's what I'm gonna stick to.
>Hearing -something- whistle towards me, I brace myself for pain as I shotgun the potion on my twinblade's handle before I go to block her blows, well knowing it would be difficult to out-match her in reaction.
"Hey hun, hit this for me please!"
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 21 ] <M. Assault
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 23 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 23 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 24 ]
1d6+21[ 1d6+21 = 22 ] <Close Range
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 13 ] <Cretalva Poison
1d2[ 1d2 = 2 ] <Shatter
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] <M. Block
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] <Shield
1d3[ 1d3 = 3 ] <Paralyze


>Great, it's a regular shitstorm now.
>Well, it's not like it can get much worse than it is now, right?

400f7 No.201618

>Summoning the power of Razorback's thousands of photos spread across the base, featuring wholesome scenes of ponies and humans always in need of more friends, the exterior world wrenches somehow.
>Between the physical desensitization of your entire body were resonations, the one that you knew most of being sonic waves, much like that of the twinblade clashing against well prepared hoofclaws; the second of these being the maddeningly difficult to understand forces of arcane energies, pencil-thick outlines of multihued green energies boiling off the Tribune, before you, at the moment visible to an almost-real Mind's Eye.

>Tasting well aged apple cider before the annoying and unstoppable headshake of high proof alcohol can set in, the Tribune automatically retorts bitingly, her physical voice the same as the mental one:

"How about you monsters stop killing my sisters first?!"
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <Taunt
>Hoofblades clanging back into the twinblade once more, the mare's unarmored form becomes clear for perhaps one twentieth of a second, an annoyed glower seen through the helmet before a pop of air resounds, splatters of many blood-like droplets coating your upper body.
>Accepting the strained order to reach a suitable defensive position, the shield's sudden and unexpected arrival heralds unmistakable sounds of heavy armor crashing backwards onto stone, the Tribune's angrily howling in your skull while something.. crackles?
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ] <GM.Psion: ?????
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 18 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 17 ]
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Elite: Enrage

1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Primus Wandering Steps: Shake It Off!
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Tarusian Crest Regiment: Shake It Off!

1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard: Surrender

1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Lieutenant: Surrender

1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Eastern Loyalist Watch Guard: Surrender

1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ] <Roust: Vanguard Tactics
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ] <Scouts: Close Combat Tactics
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 11 ] <Shieldmares: Close Combat Tactics
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 10 ] <Centurion Cliff Flank
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 14 ] <Centurion Squad: Close Combat Tactics

>Elsewhere, Tactician Elwood's remaining eye stares numbly into Aura's.

>Recognizing each other's thoughts as, potentially one, that is if the circumstances weren't so awkward, they reach shattered forelegs out to greet another.
"For now, yeah. By the way, your mane looks awful."
(Only real mares can appreciate these curls you snobby traditionalist!)
"..I hate you so much."

47585 No.201621

File: 1548803999845.gif (4.97 MB, 500x334, OH SHI-.gif)

>What…is this?
>I kind of like it, but I'd like to understand it more.
>Hidden potential?
>Residue from being part of the psionic link earlier?
>Iunno, but it is pretty neat.
>Let's try to keep doing that, shall we?
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <E. Perception
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ]

>Hey, that wasn't so bad!

>I think I'd take another one of those, surprisingly enough.
>And hey, that's not fair.
"Well how about you just let us out of the city, huh? Woulda caused a whole hell of a lot of less ponies dying, don't you think?"
>Shit, it's not like they weren't killing each other long before I was here.
>As I hear her connect with my shield I smirk to myself.
"Hah! Thanks a bunch!"
>Wait, surrender?
>Surely the battle hasn't gone that far south…?
"That's just uncool, what would you think if I said I'd kick your teats around like a pair of hoofballs? And you might want to think about surrendering yourself, you're kind of on your ass right now!"
>I attempt to pin her down with my twinblades, aiming to bracket her neck with the twin seperated blades.
>While keeping my shield up to potentially block anything else coming my way.
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 21 ] <M. Assault
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 22 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 24 ]
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 25 ]
1d6+21[ 1d6+21 = 23 ] <Close Range
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 8 ] <Cretalva Poison
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ] <M. Block
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ] <Shield
>Okay, having a psionic uplink would be REALLY fuckin' neat right now!

39d1d No.201645

>As the Witcher stakes his silver sword into the snow to clamp down on both ears, he felt an unnatural wind rush past him from the unicorn.
>Definitely some sort of spell. And its effects were interesting.
>Looking around at their foes, he can see that the unicorn and gryphons had begun wobbling around as if all sense of balance was taken away form them.
>The wind that the unicorn sent out must somehow aggravate the bones in the ear, hence why he was told to cover his.
>At any rate he, the unicorn, and chitqu took the opportunity to make an escape.
>Adon nods and looks over at his small companion trudging in the snow as he heads over quick to grab his steel sword.
"Come on lets get out of here."
>Sheathing his silver sword, but keeping his steel out, the witcher heads back closer to the old unicorn as he sees his horn light up once more.
>Oh wait, that's right, they're leaving. Which only means teleportation, or a portal.
>He's an huge fan of neither.

fa987 No.201646

>Pareidolia furrows his brow, rubbing the front of his mask as he reads the bill.

[A princess Yearning Touch and dam princess Golden Beet Jam collecting large numbers of Solar focused books? Since when did Celestia have direct descendants by those names? Amassing esoteric knowledge for an unknown purpose.]

>As he reaches the bottom of the note, he pauses and then slowly folds the note to put it in his vest.

[Extremely sensitive information. Requires a more secure form of protection. How much does Razorback's staff at large know?

>He watches as Naliyna drags the crates.

[Possibility of Naliyna overlooking this information is high. How many more secrets did Spiral leave behind? Should have intervened to prevent the helicopter from trans-locating… ]

"Did you need help with those?"

39d1d No.201651

>As Jeff looks over the gear he had left, before, and first and foremost has to put his armor and gauntlets back on.
>While doing so, he notices someone left him a gift on his kitchen table.
>Did he leave the door unlocked?
>No need to complain, as it was his request he'd left for Krinza. He must've finished it while he slept.
>Picking up the newly forged axe, Jeff looks over it carefully. Krinza had cut the bottom part of the claw part out entirely, and replaced it with wood. The work on the grips looked stlyish and practical with the scaling, but the entire weapon… was constantly shifting with Void-like tendrils. No wonder the blacksmith thought it was alive, its profile shifted constantly! He runs a finger carefully across the head's blade to see the snap-wire faintly appear, as if eager to tear through his own flesh.
'If anything it's pretty fearsome-looking.'
>If he ever gets a hold of Risk again, he hopes the blade won't get jealous.
>Deciding to take it with him, he sticks it directly to his back as he grabs his pack, helmet, and mask separately along with the spellslinger and honeybadger- while hoisting out one empty XL duffel bag for any salvage. The Intervention seemed a bit unnecessary for a recovery mission, and decides to leave it behind.
>Exiting his house, Jeff walks over to the side where he'd previously parked the Polaris and fastened his loose equipment onto. Once everything's
loaded up tight, he begins silently rolling over to the Pagoda.
>Which it only a short ride, and he drives through the pagoda's doors and parks it several feet from the translocation stone.
"And I'm back."
>Jeff lets his hands off the controls and side-straddles the ATV while he waits for Sunny and Mercy to show up.
>But the groups seems a little short. He needs at least one more for a good-sized team.
>Accessing current job logs, Jeff scrolls through any particularly lacking personnel that can use some field time. He smirks unsurely at the bottom of the productivity list, as one wasn't even human.
>But that wild-card, man… he can't seem to help himself as he speaks out to think air with a commanding tone.
"Demi-sentient, please summon me Boris the Belligerent to the Pagoda."

015bf No.201656

>Clem's eyes fixate on the mothership until the threat indicators beg him to search for the two spheres
>He watches them, seeing for hostilities
>Instead he watches them as they maneuver into their descents
>He however watches as that silver vessel that was attacked? dislodges itself
>More importantly, two new pieces of info is shown
>The sphere landing in the Crag Moors and the silver vessel landing near Basin Village
>Clem watches for a few more minutes, specifically looking at the silver vessel before switching off
>He then ponders his next move
>Looking over his notes and books, he begins to tidy them
>Something akin to fidgeting
>He then packs up his notes and places the books on the shelf where they belonged
>Time for a trip
>He looks around for something akin to a fold out map of the Moors
>He then heads out of the library and go for the translocation stone

015bf No.201659

>Zhun listens intently
>It all sounds wrong
>But Amerose's explanation sets Zhun more creeped out than concerned
>"Like living taxidermy. Eugh."
"I guess it's for the best then. Like you said, don't know much about this world. Not yet anyway."
>Zhun relaxes a bit and takes another sip
>At least he wants to finish this tea
>Zhun mentally sighs however
>"This pony has a thing for cliffhangers…ok that's insensitive."
"You want me to leave you to it then? I know how…shocking this all is and you seemed drained from it all."

400f7 No.201707

>Performing in a semblance of normalcy, the Wardens break off their tune to laugh while the two odd ones out take up their own song.
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] <Duet: Swordstorm

>The continual sounds of shredding from the Champion's location change tune, dooming portents of a moment's silence ending with the Ethereal Golem releasing an enraged roar accompanied by a single powerful blow.

1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 19 ] <M.Ethereal Assault
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 16 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 15 ]
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 15 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] <Ethereal Scourge
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ] <????? #1: Regeneration
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ]

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 4 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Refresh
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 7 ] <????? #2: Regeneration
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 2 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 6 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 3 ]

1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ] <M.Storm Tactics: Blizzard Blitz
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 18 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 15 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 18 ]
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 16 ] <Flurry
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ] <Resist Damage
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ]
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ] <????? #3
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 12 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 13 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 14 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] <????? #3: Regeneration
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ]

>Heaving the heavy Outrider off the flesh golem, the vast majority of its ruined body looked as if it should have ceased functioning after the improvised wreck, yet was still moving all the same.

>Carving into the flesh golem's ruined neck and barrel in a back and forth motion, the seared patches of flesh and skeleton were the only areas that you could see weren't regenerating even though the head and upper neck were gone, the creature still attempting to pull itself together even if it couldn't fight back.
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <????? #4: Regeneration
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ]

400f7 No.201713

>Dragging itself back onto the left screen, the Wild caricature foams at its.. eye lens briefly, the right first shaking angrily before disappearing in a loud pop.
"Then I'll worry because you won't, MOM!"
>The odd disconnect between Wild's interior and exterior communications seemed, at least to you, as if this represented only her internal thoughts.

>Pulling another heap of damaged equipment, unfamiliar pieces of wreckage, and miscellaneous odd items from the sand, Wild's normally calm electronic voice pings through the speaker above, your cabin rocking side to side as the previous materials dredged up were stowed.

"Records located and verified: mythril is a high value rare metal used for a variety of armor applications. If I'm able to repair the remainder of my equipment I should be able to utilize some for added protection, but it is not indestructible though it does have a high.. wear.. resistance?"
>Ceasing her excavation, the Android's left hand lifts up from the sand, gently raising the sand covered, mythril armored skeleton of a pegasus into view, voice turning somber.
"Natilda, I have located.. approximately one hundred and fifty deceased within the wreckage. Please advise me of the proper protocols to take."

>The counter on the right screen currently read '9:00 remaining', Wild's left hand remaining where it was while the right and six repair-equipped mechanical tendrils continue their retrieval operations, albeit much more carefully now.

1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Right: Scavenge
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Retrieval #1
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Retrieval #2
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Retrieval #3
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Retrieval #4
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Retrieval #5
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ] <Retrieval #6
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Arcanum Sensors Array

dc7f5 No.201722

>Giving her a thumbs up as she scurried off, Ivan looked to Raidor as they resumed walking.
"Back home they were looked on with pity, from where I was."
>Shrugging, he shifted the satchels a little.
"What's a seal?"

dc7f5 No.201725

>Bubba stifles a snort at the suddenness of the annoyed neigh, before going back to focusing on the bookie.
>"So I can blame the pink one for these… things. Good to know."
"Which Cult are you talking about?"
>"Knowing these fucking horses there's a lot of cults running around."

dc7f5 No.201728

>I just stick my tongue out at her sassing.
"Watch your tone or I may have to spank you."
>I ignore the logistics of possibly having to spank a giant eldritch thing that used to be a car, to focus on her digging.
>Somberly scanning the long dead pegasus, I finally speak.
"Disregard the collection of mythril. We'll find some elsewhere."
>Swallowing thickly, I shift in my seat.
"Do your best to leave the bodies undisturbed. This wreck is their grave and I don't know if we're going to cause something to happen by disturbing them further by stripping their armor off carelessly."

9442a No.201729

File: 1548831650703.gif (3.94 MB, 640x360, 1415150352945.gif)


Master Aligned Valor: +8 for 3 turns to combat, +1 to movement
Master M.o.S: +2 for 3 turns to combat, adds two extra rolls for combat

>'Something is happening out there and I don't know how to feel about it.'

>He was spending too much damn time with this damage sponge of an enemy, it constantly regenerating was really getting on his nerves.

"just die you stubborn fuck."

>Lont had a lot on his plate, so much so he could not waste his time on this bloody creature. With a grunt he extinguished the fire lapping along his sword and sheathed it. He had a cunning plan.

>Walking away he grabbed his Outrider by the handles and rolled it over next to tacit. He was still bleeding.
"Time for a check, but first, a suppository for my other patient."
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] >U.Punmancy

>With an H.E canister in his hand, he judged the distance and weight of the bomb. Grunting he threw the explosive at the Pony Things still reconstructing body, wanting it to land on its stupid existence.

>Then again what he was doing also quite stupid too.
>Right as it landed he knelt down, pulling the busted Motorbike over him at an angle, his armoured body and the slanted Outrider protecting Tacit. And himself of course, that was the important part.
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ] >Crystalline Shield
1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ]

1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ] >M.Assault (throwing)
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 13 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 14 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 13 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 18 ]
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 13 ]

>When the explosion subsided Lont shouldered the bike off him then went to work patching Tacit up again, he'll worry about himself when the pony was no longer functioning as a blood fountain.

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ] >M.Medical
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] >EMS Bag
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ]

>Looking around as he worked he wanted to see how everything was going, though he knew the situation was not going great.

1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] >E.Perception
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] >Thermal
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ] >H.E

>Pulling out his Gunblade again Lont fired a Void round at the abomination the wrestling mare was having trouble with, his next target.

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] >B.Small Arms
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 4 ]

400f7 No.201835

>Due to your mercenary experience, and having some contact with Shanis whenever she wasn't beating her face into palm trees or Sweet's diamondine hard ass out of stress, the Canterlotlian train manager's name written down.. very well could match the Halberdier's ruthless criteria for one involved in that trade.

>Returning to the recently built pony barracks, a transparent light gray pegasus in standard Arcane Blade armor was leaning against the wall on the south side of the western entrance, one foreleg casually pawing at the dirt, a dark, thin cigar twisting about between her lips.

>The mare, one you'd seen numerous times employed as an unfailingly loyal Mareguard of Shanis, offering the briefest of knowing smiles as ghostly jade green eyes flicker, murmuring quietly to you.
"Dancing left a while ago, she's off searching for somepony, quote, 'more important than my life'. Told us to let you know she'll probably be gone a few nights and that you better sign the paper she left on your bed, otherwise…"
>Taking a short inhale off the acrid, wholly unnatural smelling cigar, the pegasi lifts her shoulders, ears flicking in visible concerned for you.
"She's sworn an oath even I find suicidal. Standard earth pony stuff, not my business. Just sign and leave it in the den under the couch cushions somewhere, we'll deliver it later."
>Nodding politely to you, Ghost Jade steps off her rest, half-trotting north and fading from sight into a puff of mist.

>Noting a lack of Shanis and Nao on the west side of the pagoda, a very visible fuchsia hoof wave from Naliyna in front of her tent-stall catches your attention, followed by the older Crystal mare making a half-grumble through her otherwise occupied task of sorting luxurious carpets and blankets.
"If you're going somewhere don't forget to take one of those disc things.. I need to tell Krinza to make some more before he gets too busy or Lann 'occupies' him later."
>Noting the unusual poninality of one Gale Ironmane was now sitting next to Tipper, left front hoof lightly placed on the elderly mare's neck making gentle rubbing circles, three giant, utterly filled purple satchels were set in front of the couch.
>Head lifting, the middle aged Lunar Councilmistress' eyebrows raise at you, offering a polite, though troubled, smile before returning to her careful mareistrations.

>Silence passes in the pagoda for nearly a quarter minute until a small blip of static deposits the brown-streaked white golem on the center of the translocation stone.

>Rocky head lifting, Boris' blue eyes still lack emotion as his stone legs clink together, right arm lifting in a stiffly honorable salute, the left carrying an unusually small tool bag.
"Sir, I have been upgraded significantly since our last meeting and am fully prepared to depart upon your orders."
>It seemed Denra had performed a great deal of work since you'd last seen the Belligerent.

400f7 No.201843

>Failing to hold onto the iota sized speck of exterior senses, the knocked down Tribune can be heard moving, heavy foreleg plates scraping against each other while snarling mentally.
(That dumb alicorn bitch should've known better than to expect you to do this right!)
>Unable to confirm what the Tribune was doing, an unexpectedly forceful punch in the shape and feel of a giant minotaur's fist rams the shield into the separated blades in your hands, the powerful throwing you backwards onto hard stone.
>Dante: 17/20HP, Stunned for 1 turn!

>The mare wrenches herself upright, metal-on-metal scraping of armor and hoofclaws digging into stone slowly, although you could feel the puff of air from her hoof pointing somewhere else entirely, the mare's voice cranking up well over 11 pitches while she screams.

1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ] <B.Negotiation
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]

>Meanwhile, the Lieutenant's surviving cadre stare awkwardly into the equally confused eyes of still standing Loyalist Watch Guard.

"So… uh. Yeah."
"We surrendered first."
"No, we surrendered first!"
"Are you blind!? That was us!"
"YOU'RE blind, we gave up before you morons did!"
"Yeah, well.. we want to leave right now!"
"WE want to leave before you do! Now accept OUR surrender!"
>As the argument spreads throughout the entire line, the Lieutenant, half-buried and unable to move under a pile of suddenly shouting Loyalists, allows herself the luxury of a single agonized sigh.
(Mom was right, I should've been a farmer instead..)

>To the west, Broken Hoof accepts the remaining Loyalist Watch Guard surrendering to her, delivering an order to those earth ponies able to stand in claiming their wounded and giving them safe passage to allied towns or cities.

>Glancing down to her slightly bent lance, the Knight-General's head snaps up, frowning as her hoofboots shake from blows deep underneath stone.
(That is.. unusual. Give me a report, are there any Councilierge strong enough to do this outside of Aura, Tacit, or Moren`Ise?)

>Around you, the various earth pony mercenaries had since come to a halt before ramming into the central Watch Guard lines, dozens of hardened voices asking questions back and forth above the howling, unnatural blizzard consuming Stalliongrad.

"Any of you hear that?"
"Hear it, no, I felt it. You?"
"Kind of hard to tell outside the blizzard."
"Does anypony else taste blood?"
"Yes, why?"
"No, I mean, do you TASTE blood?"
"I do, it tastes unnatural, just like.."
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 20 ] <Central Loyalist Watch Guard & Stalliongrad Mercenaries: Double Line Charge

>Amidst the strange silence, that is outside of the Western Watch and the Lieutenant's Formation distantly shouting at each other, brutal cracking is heard from the south, unmistakable noises of Changeling carapace deflecting weaponry amidst peculiar popping noises.

1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 14 ] <Roust: Vanguard Tactics
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 2 ] <Scouts: Close Combat Tactics
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 10 ] <Shieldmares: Close Combat Tactics
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ] <Centurion Cliff Flank
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 16 ] <Centurion Squad: Close Combat Tactics

1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ] <Primus Wandering Steps: Charge
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] <Tarusian Crests: Charge

>Ordering the colossal stone Golem to halt from it's advance, Denra and his cadre of mixed earth pony psions pause, all performing the same exact head tilt as Stalliongrad's entire main Square rumbles once, twice, then a much quicker third time.

>Thanking Celestia aloud that he hadn't lost his testicles, the ex-diplomat turns around to shrug, only to stop at a giant chunk of stone knocked into the air well behind the cadre, his face contorting in bleak terror as an unliving host of black armored earth pony skeletons, among much worse, tear themselves free from through the ground.
>Shouting for the cadre to prepare for the incoming waves, the unicorn's attention focuses solely onto turning the golem around for a
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ] <Denra: Command
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 17 ] <Cadre: Cantabrian Circle
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 36 ] <Stalliongrad's Defiance
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 36 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 32 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 32 ]
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 15 ] <First Undead Swarm
[1d6+13[ <Second Undead Swarm
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 22 ] <Third Undead Swarm

400f7 No.201844

1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 19 ] <Second Undead Swarm

39d1d No.201850

>Panning over the current occupants, Jeff notices Naliyna waving him over while she sorts out some very nice quality blankets and rugs.
>He dismounts the Polaris to get a closer look, but to also pick up the aforementioned portable translocation disc stashed on her table's corner.
"Good idea, Nal, thanks. Now that he got all the kinks worked out of them- well, aside from the single-use. At least they don't violently explode, anymore."
>Walking the disc back over to the parked atv, Jeff opens up the rear compartment and places it next to the tool box.
>As he closes up the hatch, he notices Ironmane over at a still-sleeping Tipper. Apparently giving her a neck massage.
>She seemed deep in thought, so he decides to not bother her with anything more than a curt nod and a soft 'Councilmare' in return.
>If she's here, the Citadel must have begun settling down.

>Before Jeff considers just looking for the small golem, the translocation stone lights up and deposits Boris in front of him.

>He's definitely more golem-ish than before, literally being a potato and some cutlery.
>Jeff returns the small sentient's salute with his own, then settles down to go along.
"At ease, Boris. Denra certainly gave you one heck of a makeover. And you even came prepared with some gear. We're just waiting on the others to arrive."

400f7 No.201852

>Naliyna puts her hoof down, briskly swiveling to face you with an apologetic shrug.
"I can hoofle these, just haven't exercised tonight so I'm kinda stiff-"
>Turning to watch Gale Ironmane quite literally waltz into the Pagoda from the north, a trio of overstuffed purple colored Empire satchels float after her without any visible rope or cable.
>Ending the impromptu dance session to an approving series of hoof stomps from Naliyna, the Lunar Councilmare performs a bashful bow, wings splayed while smiling at the trader.
"Sorry, was overcome by the urge and couldn't control it."
"I know that feeling, but you were great! The Second Solo, Act Three, right?"
"Thanks, and yes, took about ten years to master that one. Again, sorry, pay no mind to me."
>Glancing directly at you, the Lunar Councilmare's nose briefly scrunches in something akin to a humored greeting, Gale then strolling to Tipper's couch and clambering up onto it, the satchels arranging themselves into a neat row.
>Flicking out the pink tanto wingblade, Gale places her left hoof in the middle of Tipper's uncovered neck, beginning to rub in wide, gentle circles while murmuring under her breath in somber tones.

>Lightly nudging one of the crates with a hoof, Naliyna looks over her shoulder to you, her nose wiggling in subdued curiosity.

"Gonna go put this stuff up wherever it needs to go, might take me an hour or two, and, uh, I don't have a file cabinet yet. There should be one delivered here from the Enclave soon, but if it doesn't have a float core make sure to send it back. I know Amerose had at least ten of them laying around the place, so don't accept any excuses from her."
>Rolling her eyes with a tiny head shake, the scarred Crystal mare backs up, biting onto the rope hoofle of the far left container, then begins dragging it north out of the Pagoda.

99fef No.201853

>Pausing to listen to Ghost Jade, Sunny first went stock still, then red in the cheeks, then opened and closed her mouth a few times, too shocked for words.
"Sign the…? What? What, like a contract?"
>But the mare was already off and gone. She stood there a moment staring after her until it really sunk in.
"Oh no…"
>Moving at a pace somewhere between a trot and a canter, Sunny entered her room and went searching for the paper, casually depositing the construct artifact on top of the crate.
>She wasn't worried about Dancing Eyes having looked in it, Earth Pony honor would demand she not. Then again, Dancing Eyes was not a normal Earth Pony.
>She would have to explain it to her anyway, sooner or later.
>Looking over at the bed, Sunny eyed the not-entirely-innocent slip of paper occupying her bed.
>She had an inkling of what it pertained to, though she couldn't be sure.
"Fuck me…"
>Reaching out for it, the mare read.
>And her eye went wide.
>It was so much worse.
>This could be a problem.
>The mare yelled, half in embarrassment, half in exasperation and half in equine disbelief.
>She could just refuse to sign it.
>Nope, she could imagine it now. Dancing Eyes would wear her down with that Earth Pony persistence, there might as well be no contract at all.
>Muttering to herself, Sunny dragged herself and the paper over to the desk and signed it with her full name.
>She tried to convince herself she didn't have a choice in this. It was a poor attempt, however.
"Two years. Two years I avoid putting my name on any official documentation not related to work and this is what breaks my streak?"
>She glared at the paper.
>It glared back.
>Was she angry? Yes.
>Was she happy? Also yes, but this wasn't how things were meant to go.
"What are you doing, Sunny… Are you going native on me?"
>The pegasus left the self posed question hanging, she had no answer, not for the empty room and not for herself.
>She folded up the paper and left her room again, folding the paper closed and sliding it under the nearest cushion on her way out of the barracks, picking up to a canter on her way back to the pagoda.

>Slowing down to a trot, then a walk, Sunny entered the Pagoda, eyes alighting on…
"What… Is that?"
>Was that a potato?
>Is that cutlery?!
>Good gods, she was hallucinating again.
"Uh… Reporting for duty, sir."
>A distracted wing salute with bewildered glances at the… She recognised a golem when she saw one, but never had she seen a golem like this.
>What kind of mind would come up with this?
>Who would make this a reality?!

fa987 No.201862

>Pareidolia nods once at Naliyna before noticing Ironmane trotting in with three bags suspended via unknown means.
>Expressionless, he briefly follows her dancing movements before returning to the reams of bills.

[Estimated two hours of time remaining to organize paperwork. Need to determine the nature of favor I owe to Ironmane when possible.]

>He glances up to see her awkward acknowledgement and returns it with a slight raising of his gloved hand.

[And whenever she is done with Tipper.]

>He pauses in his sorting to check over how much progress he has made compared to how much remained while Naliyna speaks.


400f7 No.201881

>Checking through the entire Library for any maps, you come across an entire section on the south side dedicated to every conceivable form of topographical and geographical volume imaginable.
>The new and worrying earth pony librarian did, indeed, have a twisted sense of humor.
>After a bit of searching, on the top shelf you find a brand new, eight-folded copy of the overall Moors map, the scent of relatively fresh black ink still apparent.

>Taking a look into the Pagoda, Naliyna's tent-stall along with most of the table in front of it were covered in stacks of ultra high quality blankets and very familiar Saddle Arabian carpets, the trader herself sorting and folding, while Pareidolia was seated on her couch performing that most dreaded of tasks: paperwork.

>In the middle, Jeff had parked his ATV in front of the translocation matrice and was talking to Boris, the little Golem looking better than the last time you saw him, along with a black winter suited, young white pegasus that was taller than, and most importantly not perpetually exhausted looking, the right eye covered by a black eyepatch, the other a curious shade of green.
>On the east side's largest couch was a somewhat somber looking Gale Ironmane, providing gentle left forehoof rubs into Doctor Tipper's neck, asleep and mostly covered by a luxuriously soft looking blanket; the east side's center couch was marked by a stack of mangoes and several blankets in the shape of a pegasus.

45466 No.201885

File: 1548913360608.jpg (1.4 MB, 1600x1070, 1435215150196.jpg)


>As Adon stood next to the Unicorn he felt the chitqu climbed up his legs and onto his shoulder.

"Say goodbye to this place."

>Before everything turned white he saw the ghostly apparition finally dissipate back into the cold atmosphere, the bloodied Minotaur dropping his mace and collapsing. Around the place the Unicorn and two Gryphons still fell over each other.

>Then with a ring in his ears and after-images flashing in his eyes the Witcher was somewhere else he could not perceive yet another than more trees. A slight vertigo from the teleportation was making his footing unstable.

"Worked better than intended!"

>Looking up at the human, eyes squinted to focus on Adon through the blurry vision the old Unicorn had a small smile on his snout.

"Thank's for that human, you really turned up when it was needed most. What's your name stranger?"

>A small plop fell at Adons feet, the little chitqu furball dropping into the snow, apparently also dizzy and letting out a lot of muffled squeaks.

400f7 No.201888

>Listlessly rubbing her nose, the Lorekeeper's upper body twitches once, her face expressing a desire to either laugh in hysterical horror or pass out.
"I suggest you learn carefully.. ..or try not to learn at all depending on what you come across."
>Eyes lifting to her tea cup, the dusky silver mare shakes her head with a somewhat calmer mutter, head tilting right for a moment, then left with a frown.
"Yes, please, I will close this.. place down, it is somewhat annoying to do and I am fairly confident doing so would be quite boring for you. Do see see if the Duchess has left, and if not aid her. I am not sure I could face her again without at least four months of counseling."

47585 No.202004

File: 1548981148398.png (521.76 KB, 763x742, here we fucking go again.png)

>Blinking in confusion, I feel my brow raise.
"Alicorn? The fuck are you talking about, ali-HURK'"
>Thrown to the ground, I cough harshly.

>Undead? What does she…

>Jesus Christ, what the hell has gone on without me being able to tell?
>I get up, gut still pounding in agony after getting slammed by..whatever it was.
"Okay I'm gonna need a hand getting around. As fun as it is to be a miniature star I can't see Fuck and All. Someone link me to a mind's eye or something?"
>Or, I can get that weird psion-o vision again?
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] <E. Perception.
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
"Also silver alicorn? What the fuck do you mean, 'Silver Alicorn'?"

>I hear the mingling voices around me, unable to tell whether or not it's friendly or enemy.

>At least everyone's stopped fighting.
>Seriously, had they just allowed us to leave…
>Wait, what am I thinking, it's not like it'd be that easy, what with the councilierge about.
>Oh no, here they come.
>Recalling what little information Esera told me, I try to think about what I could possibly use to fight the undead besides just smacking them really hard.
>And are they charging?
>They're charging.
>I need to go.
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ] <E. Sprint
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]
>I sure hope Denra's golem is gonna be of some use now!

400f7 No.202012

>Reaching the Loriat Cave translocation matrice without any further interruptions, a dull sandy portal was still opened, showing the same stone they'd originally left from.
>Walking back through into the hot tropical atmosphere of Tartarus, sun beaming straight down onto the Isle, the covered shack with its small heatstone pool now featuring Stratus Vigil passed out inside with her upper body resting on stone, wings folded over her head and snoring lightly.
>In front of the crow blue batmare were two small white cotton pouches, each with a claw-written note in front: '5,000 Bits', one addressed to Ivan, the other to Captain Raidor.

>Outside the air was filled with excessive amounts of chatter, the majority of it pegasi, a smaller number of earth ponies voices, and… honking.

>LOTS of honking.
>Both Ivan and Raidor look about to identify the last noises, and are dumbfounded at the western and eastern beaches lined with sunbathing or swimming equines accompanied by large masses of long, sleek yet pudgy mammals with black flippers and long whiskers, their colors ranging from white, forest green, bright red, matte black, dull orange, cream yellow, chartreuse, and even a few bright pink.

400f7 No.202015

>On one side of the winged equine ring, Soft-Kill and her assailant were locked in a furious, yet comical struggle that seemed to favor the unnamed mare, the first thrashing about and snapping at the other mare with enraged puns, the second maretaining Soft-Kill with superior strength, tactics, and fangs burrowed into her neck.
>On the other side… Rest was lying comfortably on her barrel, rear legs tucked under, snoring rather blissfully given the beating she took.
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <?????
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Soft-Kill
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ] Rest: ….still Resting.

>Clicking a large set of fruit-eater wingclaws together, the batbookie's head swivels, giving you an honestly surprised look, the mare's dull red diamond-shape pupils expanding as she thinks.

"Razorback's never heard of them? Huh. Well, they call themselves the Cult of the Dark Horse, it's the only Cult in the Moors and probably the third biggest on Tallus that us bats know of. They're the ones responsible for creating the Destroyer squadrons that Luna.. kinda tolerates."
>Lifting her shoulders briefly, the bookie begins to brush out her mane while keeping her other eye on the two still awake and struggling batponies.
"Destroyers are batponies that're going to die eventually either from disease or injuries. They put on diamond armor, cheap looking black stuff that's real weird with crazy angles, supposedly they deflect energy and spells, and carry tons of manabombs covered in resin with a really big one for suicide tactics. The Cult sends most of them to be.. stored I guess, in stasis around the Moors, probably in all those old Arenas that aren't used anymore. They're usually sent after Constructs, Ethereals, and other nasty things that would be much too costly to deal with normally. Of course-"
>Pausing to squint, the painted batbookie's right set of claws lift, pointing directly to a dirty orange batpony, a mare judging by the rounded snout and softer facial features, sitting on the opposite side of wharf and contentedly watching the combat.
"Right there, that's the Cult's leader, her name's Pepper Spice Mango. Real nice mare.. if you can understand what she's saying."

dc7f5 No.202017

>It was around this time that Bubba started pondering if he should throw some of his stale crackers at Rest to wake her up.
>It only took him a moment to disregard that idea in favor of watching the other mares try to kill each other.
>… And listen to the bat.
"Well I wouldn't say Razorback hasn't, more along the lines of I haven't personally read up on them."
>Bubba goes to open his mouth, but shuts it when she answers his next question without him asking.
"So the Destroyers are kamikazes."
>"The Japs would love them, then. If they weren't diseased."
>Glancing over, Bubba eyes the orange mare for a moment to remember what she looks like.
"What do you mean by that?"

400f7 No.202026

>Standing up and walking back onto the left screen, the tiny Wild sits down, staring at the video feed without talking, or even making notes.
>If it was possible for an abomination to be sad.. this one definitely was contemplating how best to respond.

>Giant armored fingers clenching carefully around the armored skeleton, the Eldritch Android's voice comes over the speaker above in a pained tone.

"Natilda.. I don't want to disregard or disrespect your wishes, however, I've lost fifty-three percent of my endo-skeletal components and over sixty-percent of my hull. If I can't retrieve materials to repair both right now, what will happen when we inevitably run into opposition?"
>Left hand holding in place silently as the right and the six repair-equipped mechanical tendrils drag a second cluster of weapons, armor, and ancient looking parts from the seabed, your Eldritch daughter sighs, a strange series of electronic noises emitting from the right screen.
"There are no Spectral or Undead emanations present. Addendum: are there no Animus energies detected which would indicate potential hostilities. The equine, minotaur, harpy, and basilisk skeletons are inert. Natilda, you are alive and it is my duty to ensure your safe return to Razorback Fortress. I don't know what the laws of our world are, I've only been alive for less than half a night though I can't simply hope to be aided by unknown forces and expected to make a choice between equipment once possessed by these deceased beings, or ourselves. If I don't salvage what I'm able to right now then.."
>Pausing for a few seconds, the video feed on both screens focuses down onto the wrecked ship's bow while Wild herself shifts, storing the gathered materials once more as the abomination's voice speaks up once more, this time audibly emotional.
"I know that the dead deserve respect, mom, and if needs be I will rebury them in a safe location if the chance occurs, but right now I cannot protect you. Please, tell me what to do."
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Arcanum Sensors Array

400f7 No.202028

>Whopping out the line with the full arcane force of a batpony master punmancer, the alicorn-sized flesh golem twitches in visible pain.
>Tossing the grenade underhanded onto the pony-creature's collapsed barrel, the welcoming boom of improved compounds and brief, accompanying firecracker noises cracking the Empire shield, though not destroying it this time, were quite welcoming.

>Digging through the E.M.S. bag and pulling out as many of the more useful items as you could leads to, more or less, slapping four sets of the largest Tipper-made silk bandages across Tacit's wounds, the earth stallion unexpectedly whimpering at the touches while the smaller wounds continued to trickle blood.

>Tacit: 98/400 HP, Unconscious!

>Behind and to the left, Champion Belregard was recovering from a brutal football kick sending the flesh golem annoying him into the air at least 10M.

>Setting himself up for something other than an uppercut, the Ethereal Golem's quartet of eyes dull briefly, inexplicably turning into a directed cone of warped pink energy scorching into the creature.
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 26 ] <Grand Ethereal Purge
>It almost sounded as if the Champion was pleading..

>The eye-searing seafoam green and bright blue Crystal filly was slumped forwards close to the southern alley entrance, left front hoof on her chest, slowly healing herself from wounds her currently frozen opponent had caused and recovering her breath.

>In contrast, the flesh golem was entirely caged in a fluorescent shard of blue-white ice, hide and flesh underneath making strained cracking sounds.
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Refresh
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <?????: Regeneration
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]

>South-west of you, the pro-wrestler had slammed her targeted flesh golem into the crystalline building's side, delivering unnaturally strong flurries of left front and rear hoof blows to the creature, roughly a quarter of her head and neck entirely gone at this point, now little more than fractured Empire crystal in the shape of a mare.

>The Gunblade moves forwards in your hands at the first trigger pull, the second physically trying to drag you towards the flesh golem; the first black streak forms into an obtuse geometric symbol and slams into the flesh golem's fully exposed left side, the second making a purple-blue smear in the thing's right leg, sickly cracks spreading across both locations.
>Head snapping in your direction, the scene is made less gruesome as the unremarkable Crystal mare grins briefly, albeit without having eyes or ears, then throws herself in a backwards bounce away from the pony-create, a quite literal wall of permafrost blades slamming home into her opponent.
>As you watch, the mare turns around and bends down low, her right front hoof reaching forwards in search of.. something?
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ] <E.Perception: Feel
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]

>Rising well above the noise of outsung Wardens, the half-feral Crystal and her much younger opposite snarl in twain, releasing their song into full on shrieks of ill tempered resentment.

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] <Crystal Duet: Blizzardstorm

400f7 No.202031

>Eyes rolling in visible hatred, Naliyna huffs loudly, pointing a hoof threateningly at the disc as it's removed.
"They better not explode now or I'm going to lock him and Lann in his room then glue the damned lock shut!"

>The Councilmare's eyes settle on you as she gives a half-hearted smile, head nodding slightly, then returns to rubbing Tipper with an unusually soft, respectful tone.

"Take care, Nightblade."

>Dropping the salute, Boris lifts his commandeered mechanic's bag, peering up at you through focused, much more intelligent eyes.

"That he did, sir. I am now fit for proper duties according to rigorous Golem testing standards and. I will be bringing a lockpick set, two connecting steel rods, one combat knife, one class-T manabomb, one large firecracker, one flame lighter, and two small strips of Taffilon."

>Blinking at the profound mistake several times, the image changes from a raw potato into a dirty white, marble bipedal Golem four hooves tall, head turning towards your direction.
>Reality twitches as the Golem turns to fully face you, making a proper right handed salute, then dropping it and speaking in a flat, mildly rocky tone.
"I am a prototype Golem of Razorback created by Master Zoo, given limited sapience by Marquis du Spiral, and heavily improved by Master Denra, Miss. My evolution is incomplete therefore I must experience more of our world before I am able to achieve true sapience. Does this answer your question fully, Miss?"

400f7 No.202032

>Receiving a tiny nod from Gale, then a noise approximating that of acknowledgement from Naliya, upon checking the relative height of each stack your estimate looked correct.
>Paging down through the bills dated prior to the one addressing Spiral, they had all been thoroughly marked with a 'PAID' stamp on each, and were in fairly complete order barring.

>Watching Naliyna drag the crate out, afterward Jeff's arrival with his near-silent military ATV is followed by the rarely seen, and now improved, Boris the Belligerent appearing on the translocation stone a bit after, a bright white coated pegasus with an eyepatch arriving from the north, and finally Clemency in full equipment from the south.

>Visibly puzzled at the activity, Gale surreptitiously glances between the four, her ears flicking in rising concern, instead lifting confused eyebrows towards you, her voice coming through the Moon Orb in a questioning tone.
(Has something else happened since the Citadel incursion? We were told to remain on watch should the remaining Construct fleet move a hoof's distance, but they've done nothing since then.)

400f7 No.202042

"The only silver alicorn that hides her damned horn and doesn't dare to stop her hormones, that's who!"
>Hearing the Tribune shakily standing up from her position, the youngish mare quickly snaps at you, tone both offended and irate.
"Forget it then, we can all surrender later and only the vampires would dare eat YOU, but they'd have to be insane to risk the consequences!"
>Stepping forwards once, a brief, immaterial poke in the middle of your spine is given, the Tower Guard takes off into a slow run, calling back at you in an exasperated growl.
"In case you couldn't hear it's THAT way, and get your own jackass! At least have the decency to sheathe your dick before asking something so ponial! WATCH FORMATION THREE NOW YOU IDIOTS!"
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ] <Central Loyalist Watch Guard & Mercenaries: Reverse Half-Sphere Formation Charge
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard, Broken-Hoof & Cadre: Charge
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 8 ] <Eastern Loyalist Watch Guard, Lieutenant & Cadre
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ] <Tribune: Charge

>Standing up and turning around, although you couldn't see the impact of your own footfalls on relatively smooth, warm stone underneath guiding you to the south, a single tremendous stomp occurs followed by clashes of many somethings against heavy shields, then a lone Changeling mentally howling in scorn.

1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 15 ] <Roust: Vanguard Tactics
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 5 ] <Scouts: Support Tactics
1d6+9[ 1d6+9 = 10 ] <Shieldmares: Defensive Tactics
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ] <Centurion Cliff Flank: Anti-Undead Tactics
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 17 ] <Centurion Squad: Anti-Undead Tactics
1d6+19[ 1d6+19 = 21 ] <Third Undead Swarm
1d6+24[ 1d6+24 = 27 ] <Fourth Undead Swarm

1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ] <Primus Wandering Steps: Charge
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ] <Tarusian Crest Regiment: Charge

>Freezing in absolute terror at the masses of black armored Undead unable to swarm into his cadre's ranks, Denra's courage is dealt a near-fatal blow as he collapses onto warm stone, whispering a prayer to his formerly hated sovereign.

1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] Denra: Fearless
>Saving their effort and energy into maintaining the offensively-defensive Cantabrian Circle, the moderately psionic irregulars rip apart the first Undead swarming into their colossal numbers of swirling external ranks, rotating in the second line to maintain their superiority, the Golem overhead acting on its own, rearing backwards to deliver two powerful stomps onto the mass of undead below it.
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 13 ] <Cadre: Cantabrian Circle
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 34 ] <Stalliongrad's Defiance
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 32 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 36 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 36 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 13 ] <First Undead Swarm
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 21 ] <Second Undead Swarm

>Across the Main Square, hundreds of archaically clothed and quite unnatural earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns, and batponies finish their individual tasks of tunneling upwards, bursting free from stony confinements into an unnaturally bright Stalliongrad.
>Belatedly staring at the scenes unfolding before them, the very recently awakened vampires all stare towards the circle of searing radiance to the north, each coming to the same conclusion as their fellows, even at the same time: "MOON DAMN IT ALL!"
>Turning their attentions south where they wouldn't fear being blinded, long unseen spells and veritably ancient sapient weapons are activated, the mass of vampires hurl obscene oaths of indignation as they plow into the hordes of Undead surrounding the Cantabrian Circle.
1d6+17[ 1d6+17 = 18 ] <Vampire Batponies
1d6+14[ 1d6+14 = 19 ] <Vampire Pegasi
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 16 ] <Vampire Unicorns
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 16 ] <Vampire Earth Ponies
1d6+31[ 1d6+31 = 35 ] <Fifth Undead Swarm

fa987 No.202043

>Pareidolia taps a finger twice on each pile, mentally counting his progress before continuing.
>He glances up at the gathering activity and Ironmane's question.

[Unusual squad deployment. Unknown pegasus. Unlikely to be a Construct response force.]

>Gripping the Moon Orb in one of his pockets he responds:

(Unlikely. Jeff is most likely assembling an unrelated team for a different operation.)

39d1d No.202079

>Damn, he always hated teleporting. Aside, the unicorn managed to send them somewhere far away and from the bandits.
>Regaining his balance and faculties, Adon looks over at the unicorn who was smiling with gratitude, and sheathes his steel sword.
"You're welcome. It was pure luck we happened to stumble upon you all, out there. I'm Adon. This is… not sure the little guy has one."
>The Witcher motions over at the chiqtu, with unsureness.
"We were out there looking for a unicorn of the Order on one of the mountain peaks. They locked some kind of enchanted armor on the little guy, and he wants it off."

39d1d No.202123

>The moment Raidor steps back onto Tartarus Isle, the warm beach sun hits his face. It felt real good, despite all the commotion going on the shorelines. Stratus Vigil was out cold, but it seemed that she had already set up payment for them.
"It seems like they were expecting us to return. Let's drop off those satchels and collect our earnings, Ivan."
>He walks up to the coin pouch addressed to himself, and picks it up his share with his mouth.

>Pouch in mouth, Raidor reaches over to the left and hooks the coin back onto a notch in his armor.
"Seals are water mammals. They have flippers, swim all the time, and come in all sizes and colors. There's… quite a lot here, you can see them pretty easily."

39d1d No.202130

>At ease with Boris, Jeff takes a mental note of all the items the small golem has brought with him.
>Lockpick, a knife, multiple types of explosives? Well prepared.
"Excellent. Taffilon is great for small controlled explosions. Now for the mission, should you choose to accept it…"
>Slipping in the movie quote, Jeff prepares the golem for his task.
"We are going to the Moors to explore an old crypt, and collect any salvage from it. You'll be in charge of small-space reconnaissance and breaching. Miss Sunny here-"
>Jeff motions over at Sunny, whom he witholds Boris's explanation seeing as the golem does it himself for her..
"As well as Mercy will be accompanying us, for her undead or specter specialties. Who knows what we'll find there. So, are you ready?"

99fef No.202134

>Ah, so she was hallucinating, thank goodness. Now was definitely not the time to lose it.
>The mare smiled in amusement at the salute, then briefly wondered if that was what she looked like when she did it.
>Putting the worrying thought of someone mistaking her for a golem do to her excessive formality aside, Sunny returned the salute.
"Absolutely, thank you, Mister."
>She didn't care if anyone found it amusing for her to be polite to a golem, it wasn't like she didn't occasionally talk to the vortex remnant.
>It wasn't much of a conversationalist, though.

>Sunny checked through her saddlepack briefly, noting the contents. Rope, lantern gems, more rope, heatstones, adrenaline in liquid form, black fog, estrus flask healing draught, Discord's chaos-in-a-bag™.
>Nothing else of relevance that she wasn't wearing already.
>Kitty catboots, wingblades, sneaking suit, winter suit…
>When had she even put that on…?
>Ready, more or less. Not for spectrals if they showed up, hopefully any hanging around would leave them be. Undead? Maybe.
>She looked up at Jeff after her self inspection.
"Ready, sir."

47585 No.202161

File: 1549057584652.jpg (33.67 KB, 438x263, fun fact- all problems can….jpg)

>Hell no, man.
"Yeah no I don't have one. Also I'd cook myself if I were covered right now. Decency and death or no decency and living, I think I'll go with the latter."
>Explains a lot, to be honest.

>Continuing to run towards (hopefully) safety, I remember what she just said.

>Does every city have some hidden 'don't do this or murder will appear' thing in it?
>And why can't I get Holy Diver out of my head now, this is incredibly inopportune.
>As I continue to run, I attempt to clear my head and see what I can hear, to attempt to see just how bad things are fucked now.
>And possibly have the psion-o vision maybe show up again.
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <E. Sprint
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 5 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] <E. Perception
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ]
>…that reminds me-
"Hey, so where exactly are we headed? I'd not normally ask this but, y'know, blind and in a -what I think is- a charging formation surrounded by undead."
>Smart-ass response in 3…2…

dc7f5 No.202179

>Grimacing a little, Ivan took a moment to readjust himself to the sudden heat from the transition onto the Isle.
>Shrugging at Raidor, Ivan hefted up his pay and stowed it into one of the pockets on his suit.
"Yes… They are rather… odd looking. What's their purpose?"

dc7f5 No.202180

"If we really had the choice to…"
>Sighing softly, I look at the screen with the tiny Wild on it, making up my mind after a moment.
"Преуспевать. As carefully as time will allow you to."
>I give her a firm nod, adjusting myself in the seat.

400f7 No.202200

>Checking the workload once more, some of Naliyna's ponial documents had been mixed in, mostly purchases of travel or camping supplies from the Empire, rare foods from Tartarus Isle, and numerous bills for exotic alchemical reagents from the Dragonspine Mountains Mining Company.
>None of the statements were, so far as you could tell, coming out of Razorback's funds, and would be safe to set aside.

>The bright red Councilmare's chest heaves in a sigh, cracking a small, relieved smile and flicking the outermost feather towards you in a surreptitious motion.

(Good.. I guess? Any case, I have some probably decent news for you: Barlen desperately wants to apologize for the little scuffle in the Citadel Atrium. According to his claim, fully verified by some of the surviving ponies, Oranti and Ridgeback forced him into performing a, quote, 'test of might to see whether or not a human could overcome a Ram's tendencies toward cowardice', end quote. I spent a while screaming at them in the Council Chambers, doors wide open of course, nothing like that should ever happen again. Unfortunately, Barlen himself will be recovering for a week or two, that little exertion before the Constructs cost him the use of a leg and half his face.. and I rather like him being alive and well.)
>Jaw muscles hardening, Gale's right wing lifts, several purple tanto wingblades poking into the back of her neck with less than reasonable force.
(As Luna is still quite angry it's not likely either of us will be hearing why, exactly, she decided to drag you along, so there might be more screaming in the future for my dear Night Princess. However, Ridgeback did say your performance was rather impressive given the circumstances, but he will be under Doctor Heartbreak's.. 'merciful' care, that is whenever she decides to return. I can assure you that she won't like his excuses on what happened.)
>Ears pinned back in annoyance, Gale's eyes narrow with the trace of a cold smile on her lips.
(In this instance I am directly apologizing for Oranti's likewise unusual behavior. And better yet, if that birdbrained idiot ever wakes up from having most of her chest caved in by an orange something or other then I'll make sure to choke her to death very, very slowly for such a disgraceful incident. Well, after she explains that decision since I can't agree to 'testing' anypony without warned weeks in advance first. I might be a terrible mare, but at the very least I give fair terms. I do hope this eases your mind, but if not then I will do my best to reduce future concerns. It's rather hard to argue against my decisions when there's only a few Lunar Council members still able to speak.)

400f7 No.202203

>Unmoving in the, presumably, welcoming cold water, a fact that was quite odd for a batpony, Stratus skips a snore, inhaling as a loud keekeekee.
>Neither was the lazy batpony able to answer Ivan's question, nor were the strangely pudgy, long pastel mammals floundering about on the sand or diving through the water a coherent explanation either.

>Luckily, a peculiarly sparkling pair of diamond lemon eyes stare up from the sand behind the covered hut, a rather young batfilly, both the coat and mane composed of starbust white and blue splotches, lifts her head up to blink at Ivan and Raidor, calling out in a squeaky tone.

"They're like rolly pegasuses 'cause they eat fish and nap everywhere!"
>The filly's head disappears below the stone pad, accompanied by snickers and the telltale sounds of sand being dug into.

400f7 No.202206

>Letting go of Soft-Kill's neck, the mystery batpony opts to simply headbutt the struggling mare, which ends up with Soft-Kill being dazed from the blow.
>In the meantime, Rest snores once, the air catching in her throat, and jolts awake with a loud neigh.
>Looking immensely ashamed briefly, the bright red feral batmare lowers her head, then leaps into the air, wings splayed and diving at the other two with her front hooves.
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <?????
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Soft-Kill
1d6-1[ 1d6-1 = 2 ] <Rest

>Losing her impressed expression at the comical ineptness of her ancient predecessors, the bookie bat produces a small silver Bit from her right wingclaws, rolling it about aimlessly.

"Isn't that the Japoneighse word? Same thing, yeah. I can't blame them though, if I was in the same position I'd do the same and join up in a heartbat."
>Blinking once, the blue and green painted batpony groans, lifting her left set up for a faceclaw slap, sighing quickly and tilting hear head towards the dirty orange mare.
"I meant heartbeat damn it, trying SO hard not to pun right now. Well, she's as smart as most of us are.. kinda dumb honestly. Then again we don't really have much reason to read, we deal with whatever's around causing problems and then go back to sleeping, hunting down ripe fruit, pranking, or lewd stuff, that's the most important! The Cult only takes in batponies that like to read, learn, travel, do business stuff, and make friends outside the Moors.. which isn't comfortable. I mean, I lasted about five seconds in the Empire before I had to come back, felt like my teats were freezing off.. er, anyway! It's like listening to a really smart unicorn when you're a little foal and can barely remember your own name."

8e3b4 No.202221

File: 1549088496414.jpg (17.48 KB, 197x473, when you pun.jpg)


>Lont looked around with a critical eye, the sudden relative calmness from such hectic fighting did not sit right with him.

>Relative being the keyword, as the snarling of ponies going feral and the Ethereal Champion screaming made his hair stand on end.
"A lull in the fighting."

>Also that Crystal mare was certainly the weirdest thing he saw today, with how she was all broken and scattered all over the place and yet still able to smile at him.

>Sniffing, he went back to healing Tacit, this time taking out the citrine coloured tablet. 'Might as well.'

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 4 ] >M.Medical
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] >EMS Bag
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 7 ] >Heal

>While working on his patient the Operator glanced back to where the monster he had fought was, checking it it met an explosive end or it was still regrowing itself. Since he was staring in that direction he looked at the Ward, to see if she was actually dead. If the inner Circle made these things she might of given herself some perks too.

"You still alive over there or did blow this joint?
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] >U.Punmancy
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] >E.Perception
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ] >Thermal
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 6 ] >H.E

8e3b4 No.202222

File: 1549089844437.jpg (830.68 KB, 2128x2832, 6c89ff4862a8368cdf72a882a0….jpg)


>The Unicorn chuckled. "Ha yes, hello there Adon! My name is Golden Horn, I am uh, well, Unicorn as you can see." He brought a hoof up and pointed at his aforementioned horn. It was longer than the Slaver Unicorn and had a yellow shiny tint to it compared to the rest of his black and grey mottled coat.

>Also he had one hell of a moustache, like, one that looked was well kept and groomed.

>lowering his head he gave the chitqu a sniff and snaff as it pulled itself out of the chitqu-shaped-hole in the snow. "Very odd little fellow indeed. I suppose it must have a name eh? Don't you?" In response the furball nodded once it had patted the snow off its fluffy coat, then went to climb up Adon again.

>Flicking his ears up and down in thought at Adons' explanation as to why they were out here, Golden Horn 'humphed' in recollection. "I believe I know who're you referring too. A dastardly pony called uh er…Forgot his name at the moment."

>To the side the Witcher saw movement, when he turned to look he saw several yards away were the freed slaves, slowly pacing by, some looking in his direction while others conversed among themselves.

29bf9 No.202224

File: 1549090903832.png (430.64 KB, 1600x1124, c8e51d2152274a702400610019….png)

Those numbers.

fa987 No.202234

>Sighing, Pareidolia creates another separate pile weighed down by a note addressed to Naliyna: "Sort these with your personal possessions, not Razorback's".
>He diligently continues sorting while listening to the Councilmare.

['Test of might'. Of course. Tremendous waste of time before an unexpected security breach.]

>He rolls his eyes, grateful that his helmet shields his expression.

[Excuses are unnecessary. Clear lack of organizational control and adherence to protocol. Lackadaisical.]

>Glancing up as he shifts an assorted sheaf of organized bills into its appropriate pile, he scoffs before composing himself to answer.

(How your organization handles its disciplinary measures is no longer my concern. Cordial relations with the Nightmare and Lunar Council are appreciated, but I do not anticipate ever returning in a formal capacity. The loss of soldiers and key Council members is unfortunate. Even more so that it was due to a lax attitude towards protocol. I apologize for any involvement my role played.)

>He closes his eyes for a moment before setting aside a memo and looking towards Ironmane.

(Avoidance of entrapment in affairs of powerful individuals prone to impulse judgments is paramount. Which is why I would request to know what favor you require of me. That is why you are here, correct?)

400f7 No.202247

"First, asking a bunch of mares if you can blind them with your goddess-blessed dick is better than telling them all you're sorry afterwards!"
>Came the first snark, the Tribune stumbling over her own deadened hooves into an angry power canter at first, then huffing in outrage as if out of breath, or physically overheated, over the thousands of earth ponies storming southwards.
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ] <Tribune: Charge
"And second, wherever there's even a single Undead not stomped into powder, what do you think?!"
>Despite the struggling Tribune's objections, the trace amounts of objective scorn simply did not mask the vile loathing and hatred in her voice.

1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ] <Central Loyalist Watch Guard & Mercenaries: Reverse Half-Sphere Formation Charge
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard, Broken-Hoof & Cadre: Charge
>Between the varied and many mixed signals of earth ponies storming forwards came a miserably tired, angry shout:
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 8 ] <Eastern Loyalist Watch Guard, Lieutenant & Cadre: Charge
>Honesty, of course, was always at the forefront of earth pony thought processes, even if, or more correctly when, such was both unnecessary.. and rather disturbing even without context.

>Maintaining your previous heading at a slower pace than before, a sense of Luna's Moon, high above and directly to the northeast, makes itself known to your senses, the idyllic, alluring, yet dangerous rays guiding you straight south.

>Audibly much clearer now, hundreds of heavily armored, and unmistakably heavy, bodies clash into much lighter opposition, an ungoddessly powerful impact reverberating into the air and sending shockwaves throughout Stalliongrad's Main Square several times.
1d6+13[ 1d6+13 = 17 ] <Roust: ENRAGED!
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Scouts: Support Tactics
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 8 ] <Shieldmares: Defensive Tactics
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 16 ] <Centurion Cliff Flank: Anti-Undead Tactics
1d6+121[ 1d6+121 = 122 ] <Centurion Squad: ENRAGED!
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 17 ] <Third Undead Swarm
1d6+23[ 1d6+23 = 27 ] <Fourth Undead Swarm

1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ] <Primus Wandering Steps: Charge
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 10 ] <Tarusian Crest Regiment: Charge

>Restoring the barest knowledge of conflicts, mortality, and a sense of duty back into his mind, Denra's fear gives way to a callous sense of command, forcing himself to stand up.

>Tonelessly shouting at his still emboldened cadre, the ex-diplomat allows himself the privilege of a contemptful sneer, directing the colossal earth pony Golem above to sweep it's right hoof across the Undead swarms and the left to crush their exit back into ruined ground.
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ] <Denra: Command
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 35 ] <Stalliongrad's Defiance
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 32 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 34 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 33 ]
>Partially hampered by the ranks of Undead, the exterior Cantabrian Circle line begins knocking the Undead trying to drag them down into the second, third, and fourth ranks, allowing their kin to respond with volatile hatred at Undead attempting to drag their sisters to ignoble deaths.
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 16 ] <Cantabrian Circle
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ] <First Undead Swarm
1d6+12[ 1d6+12 = 14 ] <Second Undead Swarm

>Preoccupied with the even greater masses of Undead still attempting to escape their long confinement, the ranks of ancient vampires are immediately bolstered by the final remainders of their own awakened kin.
>Escaping the sealed vaults and tombs under Stalliongrad, the collective vampiric might of ages long forgotten spend no time declaring their collective defense against flagrant, inane entropy, audibly renewing bonds of protection in archaic languages for the impossible numbers of tasty mortals that they dared to believe now existed this night.
1d6+26[ 1d6+26 = 32 ] <Vampire Batponies
1d6+21[ 1d6+21 = 25 ] <Vampire Pegasi
1d6+18[ 1d6+18 = 24 ] <Vampire Unicorns
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ] <Vampire Earth Ponies
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Vampire Collectives: Summon Revenants
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 8 ] <Vampire Collectives: Summon Spectrals
1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 15 ] <Vampire Collectives: Claim Undead Loyalty
1d6+37[ 1d6+37 = 39 ] <Sixth Undead Wave
1d6+43[ 1d6+43 = 46 ] <Seventh Undead Wave

>Through the fuzzy overherds of Stalliongrad, four separate voices across the Main Square speak openly:

(Thank the Lunar Goddess that for creating vampires in the first place, we might actually get out of this mess alive!)
(You're forgetting the part where those same vampires BITE US AND THEN DO THINGS THAT WE DON'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT!)
(Little mare, PLEASE shut up and don't embarrass those that aren't like you traditionalist earth-worshipping snobs! You act like you wouldn't let a batpony make sweet love to your veins while you're having the third best screaming orgasm of your life!)
(I'll agree to that! But let's keep the lewd thoughts under control until we all ACTUALLY SURVIVE THIS, RIGHT?!)

400f7 No.202255

>Lowering the mechanic's bag, Boris cocks his head, blue eyes gleaming in something akin to the pony expression of vague understanding, yet nods nonetheless.
"Information understood, sir. I will modify my tactics to accommodate unexpected interferences or difficulties. I am ready to proceed at any time. If required I am able to provide distraction support to one of the following: Miss Feathers or Miss Sunny."
>Without activating the Void Eye's peculiar abilities, you sense rather than see the familiar physical spectrum warping of Mercy entering the pagoda behind Sunny, the Spirit Walker standing upright, yet visibly swaying from side to side.
>Either she was taking Tipper's advice to self-medicate for pain more seriously, or somepony had finally spiked one of her drinks for a change!

>Head nodding in an utterly serious manner, the tiny Golem turns to Jeff's remarkably ubiquitous vehicle, clambering up onto the front rack.
"Your acknowledge is appreciated Miss. However, please call me Boris, or Boris the Belligerent, as I have no other designations available."

>Something near-invisible rocks Jeff's ATV on the back while Boris sits down on the far right side, the Golem sitting atop the small bag while grasping onto the nylon rack's edge.

>Faintly appearing in shades of pink and white, Mercy's outline reaches the physical spectrum, her uniquely ragged, slow pacing breathing doing nothing to mask the sweet apple scent of both dampener and very hard cider, tone directed to Sunny.
"I would not recommend wearing.. pegasi winter clothing in the Moors.. it would attract the wrong forms of.. attention and would be much too.. hot to withstand given that it may.. take several hours to return."

400f7 No.202269

>Shaking her exterior head, Wild emits a disgruntled static noise, placing the armored pegasus skeleton down onto the sand while her repair tendrils cautiously remove the valuable armor.
"Mother, I don't like doing this either but I must abide by my protocols and priorities: potential success improvements to ensure your safety must occur long before my own survival. These directives cannot be modified.. nor do I think they should be changed. I am a transport and nothing more, at least that I know of."
>Dropping the topic in favor of kneeling down close to the ship's wreckage, the time counter ticks down to '9:30', your Eldritch Android daughter speaking in an austere electronic tone, once more continuing her retrieval efforts.
"Notice: I have lost the use of ten repair-equipped mechanical tendrils which has reduced my overall self-repair capacities by sixty-two point five percent. At current standards I may be able to fully repair my motive systems and exterior hull in order to deliver you directly to Razorback in sixty to ninety hours. This number is an approximate figure and does not take into consideration potential opposition, side-tracking for additional necessary resources, responding to distress signals, recovery of allied sapients, or other events which may impede my progress."
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ] <Left: Scavenge
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Right: Scavenge
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Retrieval #1
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Retrieval #2
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Retrieval #3
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Retrieval #4
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Retrieval #5
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Retrieval #6
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Arcanum Sensors Array

>Without warning Wild Ride tilts upwards, the medical tendril suddenly retracts from it's homey crevice inside you with a single 'boip' noise from the speaker above, the sensation causing you to wince while the sparse remaining lights inside the cabin turn red.

"Alert: detecting one waterborne seismic emanation. Analysis: inconclusive detonation or surface impact landing caused by unclassified physical anomaly. Estimated range: forty to fifty miles due southeast from current location. Estimated size: unknown. Long-range Arcanum Sensor Array offline until further repairs. Natilda, your biosigns have remained stable thus far so I will halt all monitoring until your physical condition or situation changes."

400f7 No.202272

>Focusing back onto the unconscious earth pony, pulling out the last set of large bandages and, this time at least, carefully placing them atop the largest of Tacit's visible wounds rewards you with the sight of now-minimal blood loss for the foreseeable future.
>In addition to the stallion not making any further noises to betray his previously carefree, humorous, and likely covert operation demeanor, Tacit begins to breathe freely, though the sound was rather exhausted even for an earth pony of his size and excellent looking physical fitness.
>Tacit: 146/400HP, Unconscious!

>To the left and behind you, the visibly shredded Ethereal Champion drops to one knee, bending over and intently studying the scoured flesh golem's body, now covered in fluctuating, corrosive pink energies rapidly eating into the thing's unmoving flesh.

1d6+10[ 1d6+10 = 16 ] <Ethereal Crucible
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] <Ethereal Eye

>Southwards, the unarmored Crystal filly's rest break continues, three legs splayed out well away from a standing pose, head bowed low while the hoof on her chest wavers, silently mouthing unfamiliar words that you weren't able to lip read.

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ] <E.Crystal Runes: Refresh
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 4 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <????? #3: Regeneration
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]

>Strange sounds of glass melting come from behind and to the left, a loud, flatly toned sigh from the fractured Crystal mare accompanied by solid hooves continuing to search in short, sweeping motions.

1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 8 ] <E.Reform
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 6 ]
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 7 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <E.Perception: Feel
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 9 ]

>Checking on the flesh golem previously crippled by the Outrider, it, and the many barb-tipped appendages surrounding, had ceased moving and twitching entirely; what little remained of the corpse was now a smoldering ruin of unnaturally thick hide, tightly grained flesh, chunks of melted or shattered bone, and several blatantly unnaturally shaped organs that you couldn't even begin to identify.

>Glancing down at the deceased Ward under Tacit, the mare's shattered neck remained in the same alignment, though strings of muscle were, very slowly, beginning to weave themselves back into position.
>The half-unicorn, half-Crystal pony was not well and truly dead, though the body was regenerating at such a glacial pace it might well take a day or more to fully recover.

>The southern Imperial and Kingdom duet ends abruptly, burying the pro-wrestler mare's target in a deluge of sharp permafrost crystals and shards several feet thick, the pair immediately breaking into a low, vibrating hum.

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] <Crystal Duet: Hailstorm

400f7 No.202276

>Jaw dropping, the Councilmare's left ear tilts in your direction, her mental tone firm, calm, yet resentfully injured.
(Yes, it damned well does. I'm supposed to be able to trust the entire Lunar Council in having Razorback's best interests in mind and look what happens, two of them go off the wall on a bullshit 'test' because they think there's no danger anywhere to worry out, that you'd win without considering the consequences of such a decision, then they lie to me on why a human was nearly killed without so much as an explanation of 'he threatened to kill us'. Don't you dare ever try apologizing to me for a screwup that wasn't yours to begin with or I'll resign and move in here permanently, with or without the Nightmare's consent.)
>Lips pursing tightly, Gale's right wing lifts, rubbing her forehead, then pausing to stare through her feathers blankly, sighing dismally.
(Besides those two idiots the only Councilmaster that's remotely impulsive is Cracked Eye, and only then because he wants to try every kind of seafood in the world.. ..I knew that was a stupid mistake. Thanks you two morons, I couldn't have looked like a bigger idiot without you blundering about.)
>Slouching back into the pony couch, Gale sets her wing down, gazing at Tipper sleeping with an apologetic frown.
(No, that's not why I'm here. Doctor Heartbreak asked me to bring any alchemical product I could get my hooves on. Antibacterials, antivirals, antiparasitics, restorations, quick heals, the damned alicorn elixirs of which I've already given Princess Cadence's version, those ridiculous slow regeneration potions that act like aphrodisiacs, a bunch of anti-Planar, Spectral, Undead, Eldritch, Otherworldly, and Extra-Planar elixirs, and half the esoteric ones I keep in my closet just in case they ever need to be used. Heartbreak's afraid to be off the Citadel for even a moment, and for damned good reason: if she ever falls ill then Eleyana would be the one stuck providing major medical treatment. Eleyana's not stupid, she just doesn't have the patience to.. deal with having multiple patients. Harpies aren't good with stress, much like most pegasi.)
>Looking up and right to Jeff's ATV being boarded by Mercy, Gale's shoulders rise and fall in a helpless motion.
(As for that 'favor'.. I wanted to know what support Razorback needs the most. Luna has standing orders that the Night Guard, Lunar Guard, and Starborn aren't allowed to so much as speak of helping humans unless they want to set off a giant political manabomb that'd make every single Destroyer jealous all at the same time. I'm old enough to consider retirement, so if I decide to provide, let's just say all of the following: mares, money, a good diplomat, the services of a few retired Starborn and maybe even an Honor Guard I know, locations of certain valuables and caches here or there, and make certain there's less political bullshit to reduce Razorback's chances of survival, then there's only a couple ponies that might dare try and stop me. As a certain Germaneighan loves to state, 'when properly used the privileges of rank quickly change a dreadful battlefield into a peaceful field'."

39d1d No.202312

>Adon nods back in actual greeting, finally, to Golden Horn. His name fit, given the tint to his much longer horn.
>As the chiqtu ran up his body and perched himself onto his shoulder, Adon looked over Golden Horn with a thought.
"Dastardly, huh? You seem like a pretty capable sorcerer. You think you can take a look at his armor, maybe even remove it? Would save us a lot of trouble."

>The freed gryphons and ponies catch Adon's attention from the side, and the Witcher looks over back at Golden Horn.

"So, where will all of you go from here?"

39d1d No.202317

>Hearing the rustling of the small bat filly explain a little more about the power of seal, Raidor nods his head in agreement.
"Pretty much what she said."
>Where did she go? To dig holes in the sand? It's nice here, he's pretty alright with the beach.
"So, Ivan. Ready to head back now?"

dc7f5 No.202387

>Shaking his head at Stratus, Ivan turns his head to look down at the sudden appearance of the young filly.
"I see, thank you."
>Being the ever inquisitive STALKER, Ivan stepped over to peer over the rock and take a look at what she was doing.
"I guess so."

47585 No.202388

File: 1549148941132.png (1.46 MB, 2038x1056, i'm not sure what that is-….png)

>Annnnd bingo.
>I'm a bloody psychic.
>I don't think I'll ever get used to the culture differences.
>The casual and often flagrant uses of lewd is something I just can't wrap my head around.
>Though they'd probably love the chance to wrap around my head HEYO!
>Oh lord they're starting to affect me.
"What do I think? That heading to somewhere where they're not is a great idea! What do I -see-?"
>I look at her with a vacant smile, waving my hand in front of my face.
"I'M BLIND! Don't you think I'd have no issue seeing it if my ass wasn't a literal spotlight!?"
>Oh wait, that's right it kind of is.
"I mean that as referring to my person…but it is also a spotlight now that I think about it."
>I think after this I'll…
>No wait I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do.


>Wonder who that is.
>I'm not sure if that's a specific pony or if it's a massive conglomerate of thought that just spouted out of one unfortunate host.

>Hey, finally we're getting somewhere!

>Now I can actually have some direction that's not delivered atop a serving of condescension and drizzled in sarcasm!
>Thanks Luna!
>Oh what the fuck just happened?
>That was so damn loud I -felt- it!
>Whatever it was, I do not envy whoever was taking that impact.
>But I need to try to hear about what else is happening along with having more direction.
>…as well as keeping up the pace.
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] <E. Perception
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <E. Sprint
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ]
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ]
>Now let's see…
>Okay so the vampires are on our side?
>I'm gonna have to thank them…I think?
>Frankly I hadn't considered vampires to help us but hey it's not like I'm complaining.
>Annnnnd there we go.
>More lewd thoughts and- oh hey one of them actually is helping to stop it!
>I like the way that one thinks!

dc7f5 No.202389

>He ignores the bat accidentally punning to watch Rest finally get the hell up to resume fighting.
"Yes, more or less."
>Though he does turn back to resume listening to her.
>"So they're not very intelligent out of personal choice? That might explain a lot about these things."
"So you've been outside the Moors? Anywhere else aside from the Empire?"
>He couldn't exactly look down on her for hating the cold, after all.

dc7f5 No.202390

"I can tell you don't like doing it."
>I couldn't hate her for predefined protocols after all.
"Though I think you can definitely be more than just transport for someone. Once we get back to Razorback we can work on that."
"As long as I can get water occasionally I'll survive. I've gone hungry before."
>I shiver at the sudden evacuation and look a bit concerned as she talks.
"Was it in the water or on land? Either way, I have a feeling we might need to hurry up with our scavenging."
>While I will admit I am not a scholar, I know for a fact that dropping something into water will cause ripples.
>Ripples in this case possibly resulting in large waves.

400f7 No.202415

>Ivan's greater height allows him to lean over the covered hut's stone pad, the filly gigging in the manner that only a batpony could do without choking.
>Watching the filly throwing sheets of sand behind her, her oddly colored wings being used both as shovels, it was clear the batpony was simply digging a low enough trench to escape the scorching sun.. or possibly having some kind of super devious plan in mind involving tunneling under the stone pad for mischief.

>Captain Raidor shifts uncomfortably in his armor, the telltale sensations of hungry mare and filly eyes laying upon him from the beaches below, and possibly much closer.

>If Stratus Vigil's warnings were true indications of conduct, Tartarus Isle was not safe.

f62ae No.202418

[Threatened to kill us? Really?]

>Pareidolia exhales heavily and closes his eyes, tapping his fingers rapidly.

(Your apology is appreciated, however this only affirms my concerns about how your organization runs itself. The Council is free to act as it sees fit; my personal affinity to them and their affairs is tangential. I would prefer the Council act with as little interference from non-aligned humans as possible… and tell Ridgeback and Oranti that I will refuse future contact with them unless their lives depend on it. My patience for impulse decisions from leadership organizations is minimal at best, and discovering yet another group that functions like pre-Committee Earth is disappointing.)

>Staring at the next batch of papers, he slowly pulls it towards him.

(But that is not their fault I suppose. You have the right to govern and operate as you've earned. My presence in the Citadel was a confounding factor I should have considered. Human input in that process should be minimized to high affinity individuals such as Jeff or Clemency.)

>He shows no visible signs of reaction as he sorts them with one hand.

(Our stocks may be shorthoofed. Tipper would know for certain. Why has Heartbreak left the Citadel? The last I saw of her was when I was dragged to a translocation portal before encountering your human Starborn.)

>He pauses to look up with a confused head tilt.

(I was under the impression I was the one who owed you a favor, not you owing Razorback one. My understanding of our situation is that we are critically understaffed for leadership positions and cross-cultural contamination of incompatible human and pony values have strained many. Some have left as a result. Above all Razorback requires options to reduce the strain, reduce our political footprint, and clean our negative historical relations left behind by misinformed operators or rash humans. This is only my opinion as an individual human and will not align with many others here and Tipper and Naliyna will know far more. I believe their agendas will be different from mine as well.)

>Shaking his head, he looks back to his work.

(It would be unwise to recruit more ponies than necessary into this mishandled situation.)

147db No.202456

File: 1549177043455.jpg (40.07 KB, 392x400, Double-Horse-Head-40cm-Sol….jpg)


>Tapping his chin with a hoof Golden Horn pointed his horn at the furball, whom raised its small paws in the air. "Heh don't worry I am not gonna shoot you."

1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 6 ] >B.Arcane Awareness
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 8 ]

>"They will go back home one by one, sticking together. The Slavers don't have the upper hoof though they can still pose a threat to individuals. They'll be fine Adon." He said, eyes closed in concentration as he materialised an aura around the now calm chitqu.

>Speaking of which the chitqu poked at the Witchers' cheek to get his attention. In its paws was another small wooden charm, but instead of Gryphon heads stacked on top of each other it were equine heads instead.

>Off in the distance the group huddled down, the smaller ponies, fillies and foals Adon noted, laid down while adults stood watch. Must be waiting for him or the Unicorn, or both.

015bf No.202473

"Ah, there we go."
>"Librarian's too good of a sorter. Suppose that's good."

>As Clem comes upon the pagoda, he sees another staging area in the making for another op

>He does see poor Pare in the midst of stacks of paperwork, ever stoic in that mask
>Jeff's there too, seeming to be the leader in the new op
>Clem does think for a moment on whether or not to bring more people with him
>He decides against it though, seeing this is only a scouting mission
>Go to the Basin, wait and watch
>As Clem nears the platform, he stands and waits for the team, wanting them to go first on the stone since they seem to be moving out in a bit anyway
>Especially on Boris, that thing seems to be better than last time
"Hi everyone."

015bf No.202474

"Yeah I can see that. I'll see if she's gone or not. You take care."
>Zhun gets up and gathers his MG, slinging it as comfortably he can
>Giving Amerose one last and empathetic goodbye, he walks out the same way Pearl has
>He would assume the Duchess would go back to the translocation stone
>Zhun walks back to the translocation stone, keeping an eye out for the Duchess
>"Ugh, time to get dizzy again…"

99fef No.202615

I wish for Dante to not die, no other conditions such as physical wellbeing, mental stability or spiritual integrity do not apply to this wish so long as a sufficiently trained doctor of any species can point at him and say "Yes, this human is technically alive". Also to put some clothes on before he breaks the record for largest herd.

1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]

599e5 No.202617

I wish for Dante to have a commemorative action figure distributed throughout all of Equestria, per outcome of said catastrophe. He needs to be naked, on fire, while riding Broken Hoof.
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]

dc7f5 No.202621

I wish for Dante to be able to become the biggest meme possible in this situation.
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]

cf896 No.202622

File: 1549237695730.jpg (266.39 KB, 674x810, Jamal doing what he always….jpg)

As awareness of both new Goddess and an OG in need of some help comes to Jamal, he runs as fast as he can to his room. When he gets there he immediately searches for the hottest, most fire object in his possession. It's his mixtape He takes it and brings it to one of the messhall bonfires for a sacrifice. As he throws it in he yells to the new goddess a prayer. "Ey G! Take this offering, this heat offa my nigga in need just as you take this hot mixtape from me!"
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]
As the mixtape burns, Jamal stares into the fire, daring the new goddess to ignore him until he gets bored and leaves to find a new nigga to buy shoes off of.

dc7f5 No.202623

I wish for Dante to be successful in whatever the hell he decides to go for here. And to be memorialized for memes.
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]

b316f No.202624

I wish for Jamal's mixtape to stop being on fire thats not good for the plastic please pull it out of the fire
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ]

fa9a5 No.202626

I wish for the consequences of Dante's actions to solely affect him, Silver, and the ponies he's roped into that mess. No one else. No other factions or VIPs including Razorback.

1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]

dc7f5 No.202628

File: 1549238145033.jpg (532.27 KB, 1600x915, 1452094178944.jpg)

>Tossing a can of Tourist's Delight into a barrel fire as a sacrifice to the Zone, Ivan looks into the fire
"I wish that Dante will have bountiful expositions in the future if he doesn't fuck up enough to die. And that if he does his fuckup is absolutely hilarious."
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ]

4f6d0 No.202629

I wish that Dante in the coming weeks make sweet, wholesome love to his new filly lover.

1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ]

cf896 No.202630

From his stasis, Kraut can offer nothing, can sacrifice nothing, can do nothing, but he knows what to ask of the new goddess.
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ]

599e5 No.202631

I wish for Dante’s actions to immortalize him as the true fire diety he is destined to be, and for only good and positive effects to be bestowed upon Razorback and its allies. Also all of Dante’s closest human friends are to be recognized as high priests to the new fire god.
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]

400f7 No.202633

>Struggling to make sense of Venous deforming into colors and shapes that he'd never seen before, even IN the Warp, the Death Cultist bows in acknowledgement of the new Equestrian goddess.
"I offer this, my sincere prayer to you: that the human which is about to suffer under the wrath under however many hundreds of thousands of hot and raunchy xenos mares accepts them all into his heart and on his phallus because I'm TIRED of being propositioned like I'm the only human whore on this damned world!"
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ]

4f6d0 No.202634


I wish for Dante to ascend to legend as the new, recognized Man Emperor of Tallus who will one day return to deliver the mares from virginity.

4f6d0 No.202635


1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]

400f7 No.202637

>Between the Tribune catching up while you slow down, again, reality slowly bends sideways.
>That is until the mare collapses howling in laughter.
>None of the multiple overherds battling for control of Stalliongrad, nor even the Second Dynasty, dared to deny the allegation.

1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 11 ] <Western Loyalist Watch Guard, Broken-Hoof & Cadre: Charge
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 6 ] <Eastern Loyalist Watch Guard, Lieutenant & Cadre: Charge

>Hearing the armored Tower Guard slam onto her armored face, strange, vampiric voices of many species, ages, eras, and enraged qualities, were well within range, though the trampling of hooves under the neigh-heretical Golem was a close second.

>Barely making out the immeasurably angry notes of Roust delivering a scathing commentary to another set of ponies, the stallion's response to her some sort of vague insult, then comes a clashing of multiple regiments piling into ever increasing ranks of Undead.
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 12 ] <Denra: Command
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 36 ] <Stalliongrad's Defiance
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 35 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 36 ]
1d6+30[ 1d6+30 = 35 ]
1d6+11[ 1d6+11 = 15 ] <Cantabrian Circle
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 13 ] <Central Loyalist Watch Guard & Mercenaries: Reverse Half-Sphere Formation: Charge
1d6+28[ 1d6+28 = 31 ] <Vampire Vatponies: ENRAGED!
1d6+21[ 1d6+21 = 25 ] <Vampire Pegasi
1d6+20[ 1d6+20 = 21 ] <Vampire Unicorns: ENRAGED!
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 16 ] <Vampire Earth Ponies
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ] <Revenant Collective
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 11 ] <Spectral Collective
1d6+15[ 1d6+15 = 20 ] <Claimed Undead
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ] <Primus Wandering Steps
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 9 ] <Tarusian Crest Regiment


1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <First Undead Swarm Remainder
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 6 ] <Second Undead Swarm Remainder
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ] <Third Undead Swarm Remainder
1d6+8[ 1d6+8 = 14 ] <Fourth Undead Swarm Remainder
1d6+40[ 1d6+40 = 41 ] <Eighth Undead Swarm
1d6+40[ 1d6+40 = 41 ] <Ninth Undead Swarm
1d6+40[ 1d6+40 = 43 ] <Tenth Undead Swarm
1d6+40[ 1d6+40 = 46 ] <Eleventh Undead Swarm
1d6+40[ 1d6+40 = 42 ] <Twelfth Undead Swarm
1d6+40[ 1d6+40 = 44 ] <Thirteenth Undead Swarm

>In a fit of irony, Roust drags your nearly completed Mind's Eye straight into her vision, the Vanguard Changeling now taller and.. in human form, strangely, armed with direct copies of Broken Hoof's silverine lance and Hollow's custom made shield, both made from her own black psycho-reactive chitin.

>Watching the lance skewer through the black armored skull of an Undead earth pony, and doing her best NOT to perform an unfriendly stab into the Centurion's face next to her, the Changeling snarls mentally at her rapidly increasing fatigue.
(I can teleport you to me if you'd prefer but we need to end this quickly, every earth pony here is overheating and the Cursed are pushing us back!)

1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Centurion Squad: Catatonic Burnout Severity

400f7 No.202638

>Hearing the wish of a pegasus from afar, the newly formed equine goddess puts a hoof her chin in deep thought.
"Such a strange request.. and such a reverse of reality. Very well, the specified human shall always be seen as technically dead. Perhaps the horrors of what he is seeing are too much for his mind? I do not understand.. any of it myself."

>Head tilting, Aegis gazes down at the fairly close world of Tallus.
"Hmm, another reversed choice? commemorative statues of this.. 'Dante' shall be made and spread across Equestria, however, he shall be nude, aflame, and standing before this.. 'Broken Hoof' whom is dying of laughter. I should make sure that the young do not see it, to do otherwise would be unnecessarily lewd."

>The Daemon goddess blinks, pointing a hoof at the ancient city far below and the tiny miniature sun that was managing to hurt her eyes.
"Is that not what is happening currently? I do not understand that word, but it does sound.. fun, I suppose?"

>The mixtape fails to comply with reality, instead turning into diamond.
"I humbly accept your offering though it.. ..it confuses me."
>Now a tape OF remixes, the tape pulls itself out of the fire before Jamal's eyes, a brand new label emblazoned across it:
"Remixed Old School Hardbass Hip-Hop Classics!"

>Poking her snout with the other hoof, Aegis shakes her head, now terribly puzzled.
"Is not success determined by the gravitas of failure that one learns from? If such, what will 'Dante' learn from this experience?"

>The Daemon turns her sudden realization of anger towards the rest of Tallus, furiously shaking both hooves down.

>Finding an abandoned barrel and wood cheerfully donated by Tartarus Isle ponies, the Tourist's Delight becomes vegetarian, now covered in pastel green paint with choice images of vegetables, roots, fruits, and nuts covered across the surfaces.
"Well.. I will have to discover what you mean by that, but I will ensure that his actions are recorded in perfect detail for all to learn of in the future!"

>Sitting back and putting both front hooves together, Aegis smiles brightly.
"Of course! He did accept her offer of affections, it is only right that she is accompanied into mareriage with my blessings! It will be such a joyous night, I am sure!"

>Tilting her head left, right, then stares towards the Crystal-Empire, the Daemon equine eventually nods in deep understanding.
"I see now. I shall grant 'Dante' these blessings: his mere presence will set the minds of all earth ponies at ease, and his words shall inspire them into performing confounding acts of violence when his cause is holy and just."

>Aegis tips her head back, and settles on gigging in the newfound amusement of irony.
"Yes, this strange idea does appeal to me! Another set of statues shall be made: 'Dante' will be immortalized as a man of flame whom sets alight the passions and desires of those whom look upon such radiance. However, his allies must truthfully be known as the brethren of vampires created by the Night Goddess."

"Ah yes, this is true. However, a compromise: let it be a constant annoyance that 'Dante' shall go nowhere without being propositioned by.. err.. whatever those words mean."

>Poking at an ear and doing her best to understand the sensation of being alive, the newborn Daemon hums to herself.
"He does have other titles, however, ones that were recently acquired and must be given to him before they are thoroughly accepted. I am confident that a small number of this.. Second Dynasty, will ask him for such a high honor."

"But now I must go, there is a great deal of work to be done! I am only newborn as a deity of equinity, as such it will take time; firstly I must go to educate the foolish sapients of Tallus on how they could have prevented this catastrophic incident!"

47585 No.202644

"I'm a -WHAT-?!"
"I mean, thanks but- I mean- aw, fuck it, I should just accept shit doesn't make sense anymore."
>Ergh, I can't believe it but I kinda miss the old world.
>At least shit made…
>Well, sorta made sense there.
>…I think.

>Oh thank the gods, god, or whatever being is out there!

(Yes, please and thank you! Now, ideas for getting as many ponies out of here alive, I'm thinking we do a protracted engagement, doing a reverse circle with ponies covering each other as we slowly reverse into the teleportation matrixes, getting ponies out of here as well as making sure no one gets flanked and torn away. You got a better plan?)
>Also where the fuck is my MG?
>Is it there?
>Or where?
>I try to look for my MG, just so I can lay down some covering fire for the ponies.
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] <E. Perception
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ]
>…What the hell is going on above us?
>I can't see it, I don't know what it's saying…
>No wait, I hear something.
>What the fuck is a 'Waaagh'?
>Is it battle cry?
>Or just a normal cry?
>Man, can this night just fucking -end- already?!

400f7 No.202653

>Half-angry, half-exhausted, half-done with everything, and fully overheated, Roust hurriedly lifts the chitin lance above fray and directly at you..
>Of course, this fully exposes your blatant nudity which, when viewed from the Changeling's eyes, was only somewhat more depraved than Denra's overly sinister plan to make the giant earth pony Golem 'fully functional', and far less worrisome than her motherly concern for a champagne coated, bright amber maned earth pony filly vampire scampering about, gleefully stomping on every black armored hoof that she could get at.
>Were you sharing your thoughts?
(Was I sharing my thoughts?)
>She was, yes, though you were not.
(I am! Damn it! Ignore everything I'm thinking!)

>Despite Roust's claim that the Undead were pushing back the convoluted masses of earth ponies, vampires, a number of Spectrals, Revenants, and a confusingly large number of Undead turning against Undead, the exact opposite was happening:

>Denra's Cantabrian Circle was barely able to help over the masses of unintelligibly angry vampires, furious Watch Guard, and professional marecenaries shattering through the leaderless Undead, hundreds of armored earth pony skeletons crushed under masses of hoofboots, the few minotaur skeletons that were standing had been shattered into tiny flakes of bone, and a lone tiny dragon skeleton was in the last stages of being ripped apart.
(Okay, I was wrong this ti-)
>Unexpectedly, the great Golem above stomps down onto the two largest Undead tunnels in it's range.
(And maybe that time, bu-)
>Expectedly, Stalliongrad's Defiance begins sinking downwards, ever so slowly, into the revealed earth.
(Is this a joke? I'm no-)
>And in grand fashion, the entire Main Square suffers from the Golem causing a relatively impressive small earthquake.
>The aftershocks of which begin to, at least according to the now concerned earth ponies, collapse the tunnels directly underneath the Golem.

>Acting on immediate leadership orders from Broken Hoof, the Lieutenant, and Cliff Flank, the masses of earth ponies shout orders to, carefully, run away from the forward tilting Golem.

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] <EVERYPONY Retreats!
>The hundreds of vampires seemed to have different ideas: all turn to the nearest pony, tapping snouts, flanks, hooves, ears, barrels, or necks, their targets enveloped in puffs of mist only to reappear outside of the DANGER ZONE
1d6+94[ 1d6+94 = 97 ]
>Before Roust can divert her attentions for the rough treatment of Changeling teleportation, a gaudily royal clothed unicorn mare appears upside down before you in her vision, from her eyes to the ears hidden by a gravity-defying admiral's hat.
>A hoof reaches out in a pink blur to tap your nose, the frog unusually cold; the next thing you feel is lukewarm stone under your feet, no longer seeing through Roust's eyes, and the audible noises of a 290 ton Golem struggling to free itself, along with the Changeling sighing.
{I thought Hodch's plans were infuriatingly obtuse.. you're standing on one of the small market buildings right next to the southern Main Square thoroughfare. …it reads 'Fresh Fried Carrots!' Give me a bit to reorganize, Broken Hoof wants Denra to negotiate a temporary truce. If it fails, we are LEAVING.)
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 10 ] <Denra: Master Negotiator
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 6 ]
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 10 ]
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 10 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] <Centurion Cliff Flank: E.Negotiation
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ]

1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Leaderless Undead: Tunneling Efforts

015bf No.202658

I wish for the endeavors of Dante's herd, from now on, to be successful in whatever they pursue.

015bf No.202659

1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]

015bf No.202660

>On off-putting presence in the Enclave sets Zhun off at first, then in a weird understanding
>He looks around, seeing if there was some sort of outside force
>Maybe Pearl Lake or some wack artifact stashed
>It's a cry
>And Zhun is confused with this mixture of feelings
>He blurts out
"I just hope only good things come to Razorback…"
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]

0ce10 No.202662


>Throws a six sided die.

"If a six the consequences of the situation of a clusterfuck happening with Dante in Stalliongrad will remain in Stalliongrad."

1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ]

0ce10 No.202663

>Throws a dice as well with the same intentions.
"Business would be a mess if dis gets out into the world!"
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ]

400f7 No.202666

>Bumping her front hooves together, the goddess stares down with mild skepticism towards Stalliongrad.
"To only succeed in endeavors without the right to change inevitability would be a wholly cursed fate. Instead I shall record what occurs, and the causes behind this incident, for future generations to learn from.. that is if anypony dares to read."

>Reaching down into Tallus, Aegis adheres her left hoof onto the tape of remixes, then pulls it into her off-kilter reality for a good look.
"Hmm… it is best for the future to be unwritten, yes? I do not think we enjoy our surprises being spoiled. Fortunately humans must make their own fate. I will not intervene unless asked, nor will I meddle in their decisions unless prior commitments compel me to."

>Spinning her first sacrifice in the air above her nose, Aegis shuts her eyes, rocking back at the profane sense of vertigo assaulting her weak, physical form.
"I do not understand these wishes and prayers of you humans. What are these numbers? Why must I compel myself to empathize with them? Why does doing such feel so.. so safe? I suppose I should be a bit reasonable with my efforts in educating the follies of Tallus to itself, after all it would not do to cause a disaster of my own accord."

>Placing the diamond masterwork tape containing influences that she could neither describe, nor immediately understand, onto her nose and staring at the film teetering back and forth, the Daemon equine stops, then grins.
"I have no idea what I'm doing right now, but it seems quite fun! Very well, I accept your proposition, though it will take excruciating means to to convince everypony involved that Stalliongrad's affairs this night cannot spread beyond the borders of Stalliongrad. That is, except for those sapients whom must learn of their past mistakes, starting with.. THAT ONE!"

400f7 No.202683

>The mystery mare's lack of energy visibly sets in, barely retaining enough energy to thwart Soft-Kill's flailing hooves.. which ends with Rest batting the absolute marshmallows of her exhausted opponents, Soft-Kill and the unnamed batpony ceasing to move, the pair quickly making loud, snoring kee's.
>Completely out of motivation and the will to remain awake, Rest tips her head back for a deep yawn, then shuts her eyes and collapses face first onto the pair.
>The crowd of pegasi and batpony onlookers break into sudden, yet exceptionally quiet cheering so as not to wake up the trio, although the more aware and interested ones begin seeking out bookies for their rewards, or to pay off the losses of their round bets.

>The thought occurred to you that batponies, while incredibly lazy and typically lacking the motivations to do much could be explosive close-combat enemies within the first couple minutes of combat, expending all of their available energies in the attempt to tear an opponent apart.. unless they run into opposition with skills equal to or better than them.

>Painted eyebrows shooting up comically, the batbookie nearly drops her coin, wing slapping down to recover it.

>Shaking her head quickly, the mare leans off your log seat, presumably dipping into a coin pouch with her right wingclaws and offering a verifiably ancient, well worn 500 Bit gold piece up to you with a rueful smile.
"Nice choice there Razorback, last mare standing was Rest. You and less than a tenth the crowd's betters win this round. Pretty good fight considering the odds."
>The bookie's wings nestle into her sides, shaking her head in a definite negative.
"Nope, I've drifted through Moors cities, villages, and some of the inhabited Arenas since I was a filly. Can tell you a lot about those but not much anywhere else. Thought about Saddle Arabia a few times, there's not much humidity outside the jungles so it might only be worth an hour of that, but I've heard Tartarus Island off their coast.. somewhere is one of the better locations to visit."
>Left set of wingclaws lifting to scratch the back of her neck, the mare's tufted ears flick curiously, then offers a small shrug.
"Heard last night a bunch of weird stuff's showed up on Tartarus, something about Kra`ken and Tallus Harpies showing up. Dunno if either's true, gets real hard to separate rumors when they travel so quick."
>Glancing up to a circle of batponies and pegasi pointing their left wings into the air, claws and feathers splayed, the painted bat snickers quietly.
"Sorry, gotta go settle bets. You have a good night Razorback, and come back soon so the Ferron can awkwardly avoid you some more."
>Leaning forwards to tap your right boot lightly with a hoof, the batpony spins about, blending into the crowds returning to their meandering about.

400f7 No.202684

>Emitting a flat toned, angry beep, Wild's blue armored left hand can be seen lifting a large clump of rotten wood from the wreckage.
"No, I do not. There is extensive information on protocols in the Scars where it is considered necessary to demand what has been left out for one's use before acquisition. In, on, and within Tallus spectrums, relying on the same protocols has proven to be unacceptably dangerous. Herd-father Caliya shared a small amount of his knowledge that only the unquiet dead should be left alone, but these are silent and there is no detectable Animus within the vicinity."
>Relying mostly on her own video feed, the mechanical tendrils quickly remove another load of cargo, mostly steel harpoons that only a minotaur would be able to use with ease, six crushed mythril armor pieces, and a further number of unidentified metals.
"My endo-skeletal frame, external hull, and motive drives would have to be improved by approximately five magnitudes in order to function as an armored close-combat form. Rough calculation: the expenses required for such upgrades would cost six times that of Razorback's potential mining output in rare materials alone. Total analysis: insufficient data to recommend upgrades beyond standard transport duties."
>Halting from her work, the Eldritch Android makes a deeply troubled electronic sigh, the fan kicking down several notches as the cabin reaches a decently comfortable low 70's temperature.
"Notice: four critical, nine major, twenty-two minor, and three tertiary systems offline and in need of repair. However, I am still capable of performing water extraction, distillation, sanitization, and essential cooking processes or services should you require them."
>Tilting backwards once more, both of the screens become tinted a brighter, less fuzzy green as the external feeds sharpen focus.
"Confirmed waterborne landing, unknown range. Analyzing impact vector.. incomplete, I require more data. Rough analysis of danger factors: ten to fifteen minutes before potential large scale waveform actions may occur. We should be safe within the current timeframe for component and material salvage operations."
>'9:00' remains on the right screen, Wild Ride bending forwards once more to dig into the wrecked ship.
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ] <Right: Scavenge
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Left: Scavenge
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Retrieval #1
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Retrieval #2
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ] <Retrieval #3
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Retrieval #4
1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] <Retrieval #5
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <Retrieval #6
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Arcanum Sensors Array

400f7 No.202704

>Both of Gale's wings half-raise in aggressive motions, her head cocking left with an expression of anger.
(Then let me clarify my position for you: two Lunar Councilmembers went out of their way to inconvenience an allied human from Razorback, the same faction that one alicorn in particular has demanded they provide protection for. Their impulsiveness could damned well be seen as declaring war on that same alicorn's choices. I'm not the only one that wants to throttle them for disgraceful, potentially hostile conduct, and if it came down to who reaches them first I'm probably last in line.)
>Wings dropping at the blurry outline of Mercy glaring in her direction, Gale makes a small, visible sigh.
(No, we don't, which is the damned problem I'm apologizing for. I only break laws and rules when lives are on the line that could be saved. And no, your presence on the Citadel should have been met with a welcoming greeting, to a protected ally no less, and a query of what you were there for. As I said before, Ridgeback and Oranti lied outright which made getting the story out of shell-shocked and rattled survivors a nightmare.)
>Returning Mercy's suspicious stare with an eye roll and sticking out her tongue, the Councilmare pauses, slumping forwards a fraction as her tone becomes a mutter.
(About that.. when Jeff accepted entrance into the Starborn some of the Council, myself first in that number, pushed for an agreement. Doctor Heartbreak, or Heartbeat depending on her mood shifts, demanded to be readily available to treat anypony in Razorback if they suffer traumatic injuries. Main problem with this is her family hasn't actually left the Moon for a few hundred years, so they're highly susceptible to even common diseases. She asked me to bring everything on hoof to me just in case she picked up an infection. She's as stubborn as Tipper and with a wild temper to hoof. Telling her 'no' is like asking water not to be wet, damned unicorn.)
>Fully ignoring the Spirit Walker now, Gale's face twists, caught between a scrunch and being offended.
(Look, I understand what you're stating, but you still owe me that favor and what I want is information which I wouldn't be able to get outside of having an informant. I can't expect, let's just say Twisted Wing, to reveal all the dirty secrets on humans she knows, so like it or not this is my chance to make up for Ridgeback and Oranti's carelessness. Sure, I'm essentially breaking Princess Luna's rule on non-interference, but, and this is the big one: there's a human in the Starborn now. What I and other Lunars don't know will very likely cost human lives. Now, despite how much I hate mercenaries for fucking me over in the past, literally, socially, politically, and figuratively too, I'm going to trust the spirit of Luna's orders over the damned Treaty of Canterlot.)
>Turning her head to eye Clemency for a moment, Gale swivels an eye to you with a disgusted look.
(This mess boils down to one of three choices: either somepony in the Lunar faction, in this case me, makes discreet offers to help out, we end up looking like toothless Diamond Dogs when it comes to helping a Lunar protectorate, or somepony that isn't on the Council makes a stink which sets off a chain reaction of well intentioned ponies fumbling over each other to help. I will deal with a shitty position as best as I can with a smile on my face, but I'm not going to do so when I'm being hamstrung by politics. I have friends across Equestria, they should be able to acquire reagents, work, and resources easily. As for a good, solid diplomat that can smooth over problems in the past, let me think..)
>Gale's eyes close, both wings lifting to rub the sides of her head for a bit while she thinks.
(Strawberry Flan is real ponifable, she's hard to dissuade from a good course of action.. pretty good looking to hoof, too. Unicorn from one of the Starborn Villages, good conversationalist, has some odd issue with Germaneighans though. Chocolate Sprinkle Cream's probably my second pick, looks like she'd fall over in a stiff wing but won't stop negotiating until everypony gets the best possible deal on all sides. She's from Canterlot, earth pony, level-headed, drinks a huge cup of hot chocolate before going into a meeting, and actually has a sense of humor. Then there's Luna's great-something or other grand-daughter. Excellent negotiator, weirdly non-aggressive, never says anything unless she absolutely needs to ask a question, likes wearing hats. Don't ask. Nice mare overall, quite pretty, but her wings are.. big. Last one is Twice-Frozen Mango, she used to be our main diplomat to the Empire, Gozka, Cloudsdale, Moors, Caneighdia, bunch of other small factions too. For a batpony she has an excellent memory, susses out details like nopony else's business, can actually withstand cold temperatures fairly well. Doesn't like hot regions much though. She'll even deal with dragons, harpies, and Kra`ken so long as she does the talking. There's a few others, just not as impressive or good as the four I've named."

400f7 No.202706

"Hey Clem! If you're going out for a while you might wanna grab one of those disc thingies, there's one under the couch next to you."
>Receiving a hoof wave from Naliyna along with a welcoming smile, the Lunar Councilmistress' head tips in a small motion, a dark expression crossing her face momentarily, the odd mood relenting as she offers you polite, though firm nod.
>Seated on the back of Jeff's ATV was the mostly cloaked outline of Mercy, white and pink swirls emanating as she lifts a hoof in silent greeting.

>The translocation stone was open and free, none of the humans, ponies, or the lone tiny Golem standing on it.

400f7 No.202711

>Managing to nod in a brief, albeit wounded manner to you, Amerose can be heard slumping onto the stone table, exhaling tightly.

>Returning back through the multiple illusion walls, you catch sight of Pearl Lake exiting the Enclave in a dull granite colored gateway, a purple-robed Gryphon and Lorekeeper minotaur duo guardedly watching the mare.

>When the gateway closes, both shrug awkwardly towards each other, the Gryphon's head cocks to the right, bright yellow eye blinking once while the minotaur about faces on hoof in your direction.
>Making an unheard comment in a snarky, mid-40's male voice to the minotaur, the Gryphon nonetheless lifts his right wing in greeting, speaking in a low, curiously rhyming tone, his opposite rumbling in hard, slow, heavily accented disagreement.
"Hello there. That was the next to nicest noble I've known outside of the Changeling. Real polite, called both of us 'sir', even bowed. Wonder why she sounded so saucy, it's not even close to spring.. either that or I've lost track of time entirely."
"Hard trust no-bles, al-ways pol-i-tic in-volved. Best not ask, we too bu-sy for time."
"Bah! Ignore his irritated ires, he's incensed about our rank increases. Ah, right-"
>Pausing his partial rhyming, the Gryphon's left claw reaches up into his robe, producing two folded, silver-embossed sheets of vellum paper, his beak contorting into an odd semblance of a frown.
"If you're heading to Razorback we were asked this be put on something called a bulletin board by that busty earth pony, the one with those rankling round rings. She stated this was surely important though I didn't ask why such a weathering wait."

400f7 No.202719

>Picking apart the Lunars' collected information, the prognosis results for post-surgery were rather excellent, aside from a requirement for potential medical staff on hand and hoof in the Clinic, though the indecently amounts of highly available, high fat snacks that ponies enjoyed should be a welcome addition to a healthy, if heavily watched, recovery for Snakebite.
>All in all: the other previous choices available to Carlos were more likely to be mind-numbingly boring or fraught with constant, unexpected coffee-addled dangers.

"No known or detectable form of virii encountered. Abnormal exposures and infections can be ruled out."
>The lead mare pokes at the line of sutures once more, pupils dilating while a neat, crisp purple bundle is floated from one of the discarded saddlepacks, set down in front of Carlos with a grim smile.
"Excellent news. I sincerely hope a drastic change such as this will have zero further negative impacts, but to be sure I will request our Alchemical Division Chief perform a complete analysis during his recuperation. Among other studies, she has a high interest in.. 'exotic' mutations."
>A brief exchange of mildly irritated low phrases in unicorn take place, the head mare's hoof waves side to side, silencing the other mares.
"No, she'll show up freely on her own, Gale's no fool and she'd jump at the chance to study our miscalculations. Only a few ponies would dare ignore that mare's wrath when being told 'no' for longer than a week. Now, focus if you would please."
>Sitting up straight, the five peer closely at the human Doctor's hands, muted glows picking up gauze pads in preparation, but left the retractors alone entirely, briefly leaving him wonder why.
>The answer, of course, was the ever present explanation of magic, the unicorn answer to everything.

>Finding the clear purple scalpel thinner than a human styled one, the moderately curious triangular tip shape being the only real difference, under Carlos' skilled usage the finely honed instrument slices through Snakebite's skin with little difficulty, simple applications of fine, steady pressure negating the difference of his unquestionably thicker skin.

>Noting the mares' efforts at separating skin from the incision site in Carlos' wake, telltale cloudy fluids of red-white indicative of soft tissue and fat liquification become prevalent.
"…this is interesting, horrifying, and unbelievable all at the same time. He must have been partially boiled alive while standing upright for some time, let's just say four minutes for an average?"
"I doubt he has many pain or temperature receptors left, we'll see what we can do about that major problem later. No chance of a fat embolism but arterial clots will happen if he reabsorbs much. Drain every bit of discolored fluids you see and keep note of the amount."
>The lead mare's flat statement goes unquestioned as two pieces of gauze are carefully placed down to absorb the welling cloudy liquids, repeating the act following Carlos' further incisions.
>Finishing the sixth blade stroke, the five mares begin placing clear white shards of quartzine and blue-purple glowing strands across Snakebite's abdomen in preparation for the next phase.
"We'll be ready in a couple minutes, takes some time to cool off the horns. You two keep your eyes on for indications of arrhythmia, blood clotting, you watch for attempted vomiting or unusual muscular movements in the barrel and abdomare. I'll check the vacuum seal of this room, we cannot allow even a single bacterium to enter infect him at this time."
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ] <B.Medical Examination #1
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 7 ] <B.Medical Examination #2
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ] <B.Medical Examination #3
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ]

1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 9 ] <E.Casting: Air Overpressure
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 8 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 13 ]

39d1d No.202799

>Jeff's pleased that Boris understands the mission, more than eager to explore some wet crypt.
"Excellent. Now, mount up."
>The small golem's already beaten him to the punch as he begins climbing up on the front, as a little hood ornament.
>Speaking of climbing onto the Polaris, he was able to pick out the outline of Mercy as she quietly swayed into the Pagoda and made a spot for herself on the rear.
>Was that the smell of cider? Is she buzzed?
"Heya, Mercy. You alright?"

>Watching the eye-patched pegasus check over her items, Jeff looks over at the barely visible white pegasus.
>And is inclined to agree with her concerns over the extra over-wear, as he scratches the back of his head.
"Mmmmyeah, she's right Sunny. You might be a little too warm in that."

>Awaiting what Sunny will do about her clothing, and looks over at Clem.
>He seems to be preparing for something as well.
"Supp Clem. You heading out, in a bit, too?"

47585 No.202815

(Yeah alright can do.)
>Phew, that was almost embarrasing.
>Not having really any vision for a few minutes is surprisingly effective at turning me topsy-turvy.

>Looking from her vision I do confirm that they're actually managing to push them back.

>Woo! Not getting devoured by hordes of undead!
>Hell yeah.
>Although, it is getting a little harder to-
>Oh shit the ground's now about to not be there!
>Feet slipping, I try to find purchase on the ground but find nothing.
>Just about to fall over, suddenly unicorn.
>Did…did she just BOOP ME?!
>Yeah okay she saved my life I'm fine with that.
>For now.
>And hey, I didn't have to deal with Roust's teleportation again!
>Sorry Roust, but I very much like the feeling of not having my corporeal body feel like it was pulled through a funnel two sizes too small.
>Fresh Fried Carrots?
>Sounds almost like the pony version of Hot Dogs.
>Huffing loudly in relief, I suppress the urge to fall on my ass.
{Thank whatever's out there that they're trying diplomacy. I've had enough fighting today. And I haven't done anything other than shout orders and get in a small scrap with a Tribune. Not that I'm complaining but…eh, whatever. And I hope it goes well, for everyone's sake.}
>I just hope I can go home soon and get drunk or whatever.
>Today's been too fucking convoluted I don't know where to begin.
>I'll take inventory of just what the hell happened later; for now I'll just hope cooler heads prevail."

39d1d No.202819

>The Witcher looks at Golden Horn, with interest, as he begins to magically examine the chiqtu's armor more closely.
"I think it might be elevating his intelligence to a level of sentience of ours. Never really come across anything like it before."
>As he does, the small mammal in question hands him a small wooden horse trinket. He pulls out the three-headed gryphon one, he picked from the snow, and hold them together in his hands. That adds two to his collection, today.
"Hey, where'd you get that now."

>Waiting for Golden Hoof for his results, Adon looks over at the group of captives as they stayed safely huddled together.

>The adults guarded the children, in the snow. Smart.
"They waiting for us? I know you were with them. Did you all come from the same place?"

39d1d No.202821

File: 1549327409038.jpg (82.72 KB, 468x323, 1468190961788.jpg)

>Raidor looks around, uneasy.
>It's like wherever he goes, even his own barracks.
>The feeling of female gazes locked onto him are forever present.
>And on the prowl in this relaxing beach setting.
>Not like he wouldn't help himself, but he IS here on business.
"Come along Ivan. It's time to go before we're indulged on."
>Using his armored head to nudge Ivan in his hip, he leads the way over to the translocation stone to escape the peaceful yet lewd beaches of Tartarus Isle.

dc7f5 No.202824

"Indulged on?"
>Ivan looks down at the nervous pony in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
>The clueless STALKER had no idea what Raidor was going on about. He likely didn't even know what indulge meant.

fa987 No.202853

>Pareidolia rolls his head back and forth across his shoulders as the Councilmare retorts.

[The audacity of that outright lie… impulse decision or internal maneuvering? Possibility of politics cannot be ruled out. Aggravating.]

>After she finishes, he raises both his hands and shakes his helmet.

(Considering the circumstances of the favor, I cannot refuse. I don't know what quality of information I could provide that Jeff or Clemency could not, but I accept. For how long do you require me to fulfill that role? The specifics of you assisting Razorback discretely and recruiting a diplomat are something to discuss with Naliyna or Tipper and are beyond my jurisdiction.)

>Returning to his work, he looks down to the table in front of him.

[Heartbreak's decision is rash, but at this point Tipper needs any assistance she can receive.]

400f7 No.202864

>Creeping up onto one of the Clinic beds, a purple robed, white, orange, and yellow streamed Crystal mare barely in her 20's peers down into Kraut's stasis field, the large silk bandage on her nose wrinkling as she frowns.
>Leaning down to place her ear on the hard surface, the Lunar lifts a hoof, tracing a collection of glowing signs into the air before setting it down.
(Can you hear me? If so then please do not be alarmed, or scream. My name is Frost Egg, don't ask, really long story.)
>Smiling proudly, the mare lifts her shoulders in a placid shrug.
(Anyhow, I'm a Starborn Combat Medic from the Citadel, came here to help out treatment. So, what exactly happened to you?)

c16c7 No.202867

>Waving a wing at the additional human in the pagoda, Sunny turned to both Mercy and Jeff, mouth opening and closing momentarily as though to say something.
>And with no more warning, she bolted off to the pony barracks.

1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 9 ] < E. Sprint
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 7 ]
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 8 ]

>Barely even slowly down, she entered her room her stripped off her winter suit, deliberately and carefully setting it on the bed.

>Then galloped back out and back to the Pagoda, standing exactly where she had been moments ago.
“Sorry about that, now…”
>She considered the vehicle, Mercy sitting on the back, Boris on the front.
>Sunny guessed Jeff’s would sit in the middle at the steering bars.
>Considering a moment more, she found herself some free space and clambered on, twitching an ear around listening to the sounds the vehicle made as its suspension mechanism accommodated the additional weight she added.
“Ready, sir, for real this time.”

400f7 No.202878

>Even as Ivan asks his question, the incoming answers were beyond frightening:
>Perhaps two hundred pegasi mares, all brightly colored and quite young, had snuck up to peer over the sand dunes at the human and earth pony while they were otherwise occupied.
>The vast majority were leering towards the duo, some licking their lips, others making seductive facial expressions, while a few were blatantly showing off their athletic, fit, well curved equine forms; there was even a pack of fillies trying to show off in the same manners as their older sisters.
>Knowing full well the dangers, Raidor easily pushes Ivan onto the translocation matrice, a single dull gray Remnant eye peers up from the surface, glances around once, and immediately devours the two in a dull sandy-toned tunnel.

>Immediately, or as near-instant as possible, deposited into Razorback's Pagoda, the two breathe a sigh of relief at the relatively normal mood.

>Behind them were the sounds of cloth being rapidly stacked, and to the left was the snoring form of Shanis in her black winter suit, clutching a long, quite young bright white seal.
>Upon spotting Ivan and Raidor, a single flipper silently lifts while the pinniped turns a contented smile onto them.

cf896 No.202883