This is going to suck, almost certainly.
I ordered the biggest table in the tavern to be cleared out, and I’m sitting in the middle, Crumble and Steelback to the left of me, Granite and Two to the right. The dwarf was curious about my plan, not eager to ‘wait and see’ as I told him, but considering that as soon as things get started, I’ll be mostly improvising, I couldn’t tell him anything specific.
I realize I overshot completely when only five dwarves sit down across the table before Crumble announces:
“That’s everypony, queen. We can get more dwarves later, but these ponies are who I could find on such short notice.”
Looking around, I notice a solitary black cowl hidden in the sea of dwarves sitting at other tables and minding their own business. Two spent the morning practicing her seductive disguise while visiting the market and chatting other dwarves up on where she could find some dark priest, upon which she informed him about my meeting with influential dwarven figures.
You see, I’m absolutely certain that Crumble was right when she said that if I invited the clergy to the table, dwarves would be afraid to openly discuss their ideas for change. HOWEVER, in order to make them feel as if they’re on my side instead of giving them the option to back out of any deal, I decided that they had to be heard, come to a mutually accepted conclusion, and then have the spying dark priest hear the consensus. That way, the clergy would know it’s them against the will of the ponies, and the ‘conspirators’ would know they were heard by both common dwarves and the clergy, and that they should keep their word because they won’t be able to deny what they said.
Well, let’s leave the ideal world, and see how things bite me in the ass. And no, I’m still not turning into a pessimist. This is the healthy approach.
“Greetings, everypony,” I raise my voice, making everyone at the table look at me, “I suppose most of you have already heard about me. My name is Brick, the new queen of our small part of the city. I wanted to meet dwarves with some ideas on social change which would be universally approved. Originally, I had a chat with Crumble here about the formal dress rules, and came to the conclusion that I don’t see a reason for not letting mares wear full plate armors, but I’d like to hear objections before I decide to allow such a big change, because I myself don’t see a reason why not,” I raise my hoof, “And ‘tradition’ is not a reason. I want pros and cons of such step, ways it could threaten or benefit us. Everyone can share their concerns freely, and then we’ll move on to your ideas. So, point one - mares and plate armors. Go!”
A mare with red mane and grey coat raises her hoof, clearing her throat.
“Ehm, my name is Iron Rose-”
I see…
Well done, Crumble. Off to a good start, one is using a fake name.
“-and I can attest to mares being overall weaker than stallions. However, our limit is far above standard plate mails. Remember the cave-in of 97C?” she turns her head, making everyone look down. It must have been some big tragedy, “Everypony was enlisted to help dig out survivors, no matter gender, and we all worked days and nights without rest until we rebuilt the connecting halls. I believe mares shouldn’t be the first to manually grind diamonds, but you don’t need that much strength to wear heavier armor for extended periods.”
Two would disagree with that, but I see the point.
“Valid point. Objections?” I ask.
Two hooves rise up in response, one belonging to Granite, and one to an older, black, grey-maned dwarf. I nod to the unknown dwarf first. Granite knows I’m genuine about trying to help, and I don’t need to persuade him… much.
“Hard Hat, miner foreman of sector 13D,” he introduces himself, and I smile as if I know what he’s talking about, “With all due respect to miss Rose here, even mares working in basic mines don’t achieve results similar to stallions, and-”
“That’s bullshit!” scowls Crumble, “Before I got kidnapped, I was the miner of the month twice in one year.”
“Only because your chainmail distracted other miners from work!” Hard Hat stands up.
“I’ll distract you with my axe!” Crumble does the same, hammering her hoof on the table.
I clear my throat, which stops them both.
“Are you saying, mister Hard Hat, that if Crumble wore full armor, she would distract stallions in the shaft less, which would result in better mining yield?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying!” he grins at Crumble, before his head catches up with his mouth, and the grin disappears completely, “No! I mean- I mean-”
Iron Rose winks at me, tapping her hoof against the table to gain attention.
“I do believe that without such a… distraction the stallions will be focusing on the shaft that matters. Besides, Brauheim standard mining statistics show that there’s no recognizable difference between average yields of shafts based on the amount of stallions and mares.”
“What about deep core mining then?” barks Hard Hat, “The heat, the even heavier suits, motor drills. Mares can’t do that!”
“Even those who passed the certification?” asks Crumble in low and very dangerous tone.
“The certification tests are too general and don’t prepare you for the reality of the volcanic depths,” objects Hard Hat further.
I stop my hoof on the table.
“Trying to solve everything at once won’t get us anywhere. How about this? Full armors for mares whenever. In the mines, they won’t cause stallions’ imagination to run amok, and here in the city it doesn’t really matter-” more tapping interrupts me, this time from Granite, “-yes?”
“While I have my objections, from purely practical perspective of the military, which is what the queen wants to hear from me, mares wearing full armors inside Brauheim will only increase our odds in case of a surprise attack by the old queen. However, if I may suggest, some separation of the male and female armors wouldn’t go amiss to avoid confusion.”
“You mean like not having a beard?” I say quietly, raising an eyebrow. What a sly bastard! But, I suppose it’s time for my end of the bargain,“So, what about some soft decorations? Let’s say, gold rims on pauldrons or someplace visible for stallions, and silver on mares? That, or gemstones. You can work out the details among ourselves.”
Hard Hat is still grinding his teeth, but Granite’s support of the cause obviously means a lot to him.
“I suppose we can… try, only the standard mining, though,” says the dwarf, “However, if the yield averages for the next quarter visibly go down, we’ll rescind this ruling, at least the mining part. The military will have to assess our combat readiness on their own,” he nods towards Granite.
Granite and Iron Rose done. I nod.
“Is there any issue you’d like to raise, Hard Hat?” I ask.
“Yes, there is,” he looks at Granite again, this time nervously, “Queen, we need to use our rare minerals to improve our mining equipment rather than sink them all into new armors and weapons. They’re lying in the storage rooms anyway, gathering dust. No offense.”
Granite crosses his forelegs on his chest, frowning, but catches my glance.
“The old king’s precautions against the queen’s attack aren’t enough to defend ourselves anyway,” Granite stops Hard Hat already opening his mouth by a raised hoof, “However, I admit that problem doesn’t stem from lack of equipment, but a lack of forces. Allowing mares to use heavy armors could help our defenses, and I am willing to part with reasonable amount of minerals for new weapons. Let’s say, thirty-five percent for new weapons and armor, thirty-five percent for new mining equipment, thirty percent for storage and trade?”
“That still won’t be enough to replace the breaking deep core mining equipment and parts, but it will lessen the wait times considerably,” says Hard Hat.
“So how about fifty-thirty-twenty, mining, military, storage and trade?” I offer.
“That would still cover your business deals with Rift,” Steelback nods, “As a representative, I see no problem with that.”
“It would leave us with far too little raw mineral gain, though,” adds Granite.
“Is it a bearable temporary solution until we resume contact with the old queen?” I ask, “If a full-scale battle stops being a relevant option, we won’t need to stockpile minerals.”
General nodding and humming tells me that I’ve got Hard Hat on my side now as well.
“Good. What’s next on the agenda?”
Another mare sitting at the table raises her hoof.
“If I may, the stallions who harvest crops and grow food would rather do so in lighter armor, as the full mails and heavy greaves aren’t the best equipment for that.”
“I don’t mind. Any obj-”
“NEVER!” the previously silent but definitely fuming dark priests roars, rising from the crowd, “YOU MAY LET MARES PRETEND THEY ARE STALLIONS, BUT YOU SHALL NEVER MAKE OUR STALLIONS INTO MARES!”
As the dwarf strides towards our table, worried expressions spread everywhere around. Two pushes her chair back, about to intercept the furious dwarf, bloodthirsty grin spreading on her face.
”Wait. This is a fight the dwarves need to have among themselves. Just be ready to kick some major ass in case everything goes south.”
”I’ll get my diplomatic spiky horseshoes ready, boss.”
I give the dark priest a courteous nod.
“We’re here to talk like reasonable dwarves, which of course includes listening to you. So, why would the occasional stallion wearing chainmail while farming be a problem? It does require more delicate manipulation than swinging a pickaxe, right? And don’t say it’s tra-”
“IT’S TRADITIONAL! STALLIONS ARE POWERFUL AND TOUGH THANKS TO THE LIFE INSIDE HEAVY ARMOR. MARES CAN DO THE GARDENING AND OTHER SIMPLE THINGS THEY CAN HANDLE WHILE STALLIONS SHOULD BE DESIGNING MACHINES, FIGHTING, AND LEADING!”
Great job pissing at least half of this table off. Come to think of it, despite Hard Hat looking confident in the priest’s presence, the other stallions don’t look too happy.
“Granite,” I ask, “Is there a basic army training to keep stallions and mares fit for service?”
“Reserves have weekly drills, and it’s up to them to stay in shape to pass them.”
“Would it be possible to set up a, let’s say, monthly basic physical evaluation every stallion has to go through so that what the dark priest is worried about doesn’t happen?”
“Monthly… no, too many ponies. Quarter year? Maybe.”
“So, if a dwarf passes the basic physical, they can do whatever they want for the next quarter a year until the next one. Maybe they can get a certificate or something?”
“We can work out the technical details later, but the idea is doable.”
“Well, dark priest?” I turn to the stumped bald dwarf, who nonetheless looks as if he wants to bite my head off on the spot, “Satisfied?”
“No- NO,” his voice wavers for a second, “MARES MINING ALONGSIDE STALLIONS IS ALSO NONSENSE, AS IT WOULD TEMPT THE MINERS-”
“We already discussed that, and it’s not a mare’s fault a stallion can’t keep his imagination in check,” I interrupt the annoying dwarf, “Plus, as we arranged, they’d wear the plate armors too, so no problem.”
“YOU ARE MAKING MARES FROM STALLIONS AND STALLIONS FROM MARES! THAT GOES AGAINST EVERYTHING OUR FOREFATHERS FOUGHT THE DARKNESS FOR-”
“Oh shove it!” says Iron Rose, silencing absolutely everyone with a remark so rude as to be unthinkable, “The new queen listened to our problems and found solutions which satisfy even the claims you presented, dark priest, yet you keep blathering about traditional roles, traditional beliefs, everything without reason other than ‘we did it wrong for so long that we think it is right’! Either present arguments, or keep your mouth shut!”
“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT?!” bellows the dwarf, “TRUE DWARVES, SEIZE HER AND THROW HER INTO THE DEPTHS!”
Iron Rose quickly looks around, fear replacing her rudeness immediately. To my growing hope, neither the onlookers nor the other dwarves sitting at the table move, some just shift uncomfortably.
I nudge Steelback. Time for his part.
“Ehm,” the minotaur ambassador clears his throat, “I do not wish to interfere with internal matters of Brauheim, but I’m here to propose a new mining offer to the new queen. A trade of our several sets of anti-magic armor crafted from the materials brought forth by the dark prophet in exchange for mining access to deep core shafts including instrium veins, and help building a motorized drill.”
I wish I knew what any of that meant, but the horrified look of Crumble and Hard Hat coupled with Granite’s soft head shake and the fresh disgust from the dark priest prove beyond all doubt that Steelback’s offer is unthinkable.
“Do you think I’m stupid, ambassador?” I narrow my eyes at him, “I may be for progress, but I am still a dwarf, and I will never put the well-being and prosperity of my kind in second place to personal enrichment. The deep secrets belong to us dwarves, and you surface dwellers are just guests here. Is that a clear enough answer?”
“I will tell by superiors of your reply,” nods Steelback, much to the collective relieved sigh of everyone around.
”Two, that’s your cue.”
Hammer walks over to the dark priest, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Any more concerns to raise, dark priest?”
Through her eyes, I see right into the dwarf’s, and I see disgust, hatred, but most importantly - a flicker of fear. The dwarves are on my side, because I offered realistic change, and showed enough force against the minotaurs. I know the priest feels power slipping away from him, and he’s not used to it. He’s clearly used to his word being the law.
“YOUR FOOLISHNESS WILL BRING RUIN TO OUR RACE. WE SHALL NOT ALLOW IT!” he turns around, striding out of the tavern before Two breaks another door with another priest.
That’s a rather big exaggeration. I mean, what could few armor changes and decorations really change?
I realize the whole place is deathly silent, and everyone is looking at me. For a moment, I ponder if Scream has something to say. A situation like this feels exactly like the right time for her to force me to do something even more inflammatory, but she’s nowhere to be seen or felt. Maybe she’s busy elsewhere?
“Aaanyway, where were we?” I sit back down as Hammer passes by Crumble who pats her head proudly, much to her dismay and a lot of nose scrunching, making few nearby dwarves chuckle.
A dwarven mare at the table raises her hoof.
“My name is Geode, and I’d like to ask if the stallion service is okay for foal care too. We’ve got a lot of orphans due to the recent skirmishes and mining accidents and-”
Taking a deep breath, I get ready to enact small enough change that would help without making everyone mad at me. Politics, politics, politics.
On the other hole, I managed to prevent One and Eight from tearing each other’s head off. I can do this.
Suddenly, I feel a faint echo of utter horror from somewhere, which cuts through Geode’s speech, taking all my concentration not to start looking around in panic.
Three? No. Two? She’s sitting right there, brows furrowed.
Six?!
I can’t connect to him through the chaos and fear.
”Two, can you feel it?”
”Yes. What’s going on? Where is it coming from?”
”It’s Six. Get to the prison fast. I can’t just end the meeting and run there. Someone’s bound to follow us, and I don’t want any more changeling rumors than Three must already be causing.”
”On it!”
Without a word, Hammer stands up, and walks out of the tavern, immediately burning love to gallop forward as soon as the door closes behind her. I let the dwarves squabble about details of Geode’s problem, only listening in case someone wants something from me, as I look out of Two’s eyes.
Within few seconds, she’s at the prison vault. Unguarded prison vault.
In the body of Hammer, Two doesn’t need to expend too much love to open the vault door on her own, but it’s still a chore, and when she’s inside, she immediately sees two bleeding and battered dwarves on the floor by a ripped off inner door. A frightened squeak from inside the “cell” makes Two jump forward and witness the scene.
Six is hanging by his neck, being held by claws of a bigger changeling while the changeling’s other foreleg flashes with green fire, growing curved saw blades.
It’s a female warrior, quite easy to identify from the thicker and spikier chitin while still not being as bulky as a male one would be. She doesn’t possess any mane or additional belly plating, and I can’t sense too much love from her, but even if she got a drop on the two guards outside, she’s still dangerous.
“Nononononono, Five, why? You’re here, you can get me out-” pleads Six, squirming in Five’s grip.
“You failed us, which means you are a liability, Six. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to-”
Six kicks Five’s neck, making her saw-bladed slash which would otherwise gut him only leave a bleeding scar on the side of his barrel.
Two quietly grabs an axe, then throws it at Five. Unfortunately, her lack of experience makes it just bounce off of the warrior’s chitin, finally alerting her to Two’s presence.
”Two, be careful. It’s a warrior, and I’m sure she’s more experienced than you.”
”Good,” growls Two, charging at Five, ”I can’t grow without a proper challenge.”
”You’re an infiltrator, Two.”
”I am ME, I am THE BEST!”
Five drops Six as fully armored Hammer rams into her and then into the wall. From the corner of Two’s eye, I see Six scramble to all fours and immediately dart out of the cell.
”Six, help Two!” I try talking to him, but the blind panic coming from him blocks me from either controlling him or proper communication.
”No no no, I can’t! Five will kill us both if I stay!” he yelps.
This, however, means that Six has nowhere specific to run and return to.
”Three, I’ve got a scared drone on the run,” I send him the rough location of the escaped prisoner, ”He’s like a panicked animal, try to find him!”
”Already running, boss!” is Three’s immediate reply.
Two flies out of the cell, joining the dwarves on the floor, dazed after Five’s powerful kick. Before she can get up, Five’s already on her, raising her hoof enveloped in green fire which I recognize as increasing weight and hardness. So she can do in-combat spot transformations, which is pretty nasty.
The blow dents Two’s helmet, and she blacks out for a breath. However, when she gasps in the next second, her survival instinct kicks in, making her flick her heavy boot away, immediately grow a spike from the frog of her hind leg, and kick upwards, impaling Five, and knocking her off of herself. The spike disappears immediately afterwards, but Two’s head spins when she gets up too quickly.
Bleeding Five’s foreleg smashes into the side of Two’s head, making her fly off so hard she bounces off of the floor. Five’s on her instantly, this time about to stomp her head to paste.
Two turns back into herself, shrinking as Five squishes the plate helmet. With a quick flick of her hoof, Two slashes the belly straps of the armor, and emerges from it in all her tiny chitinous beauty, jumping upwards and uppercutting Five so hard she smashes into the ceiling, wings bending out of shape.
“You’re not flying anywhere,” Two’s forelegs shift again, growing spikes on the surface of her chitin, making them into two jagged clubs.
Five blinks as she stands up, clearly surprised that there’s another changeling here. However, as soon as Two punches her, she grabs Two’s foreleg, and twists, making the smaller infiltrator spin in the air, before swinging her by her hoof against the floor so hard that shards of chitin fly off. Without letting go, she swings Two’s body in an arc again, making her kiss the floor on the other side.
Two spits out broken teeth, her shaking and fractured legs barely able to support her weight now. Five cocks her foreleg backwards-
The nook of a double-headed axe grabs it through a hole, and one of the woken up dwarven guards heaves, making Five lose balance and drop on the floor.
“Hammers!” croaks Two, “I want... that bitch... alive!”
Her horn flares up with green light, sending a bolt of energy at Five already back up, making her stumble. The dwarven guard grabs a hammer from his belt, spins it with his hoof in the air by a strap on its handle, then lobs it with trained precision straight at surprised Five’s face.
*Crunch!*
Chitin, teeth, and blood splatter everywhere as Five drops on her back, her muzzle flattened by the throw. When the dwarf guard approaches, she suddenly kicks upwards, causing him to lose balance and keel over, green sparks flicker through her carapace, making it soft and light as well as quickly healing leg damage. Five lets out something between groan and a whimper as agony shoots through her entire body from the forced reconstruction, she jumps over the recovering guard, past the second guard who darts in front of Two for protection, and into the streets much faster than the dwarves can move.
“We have to...” Two’s forelegs give out, and she drops on her knees as both guards look at her, “...get her… before she… finds him...” the dwarves don’t move. She looks down, finally realizing that for half the battle she wasn’t in disguise, “I can… explain… bzz bzz… and stuff...”
One guard grabs Two over her feeble and barely conscious resistance with surprising gentleness, and carries her off to an unused internal vault, meaning a different cell.
“Lock us inside, then inform the queen,” he nods to the other guard, “I’ll stay with… her.”
He lowers Two onto a pile of gold, and sits by her side as he watches the door shut close. She tries to get up, but every movement sends spikes of agony through her broken body.
“Don’t move,” says the dwarf in a soothing voice, “I don’t intend to harm you, Hammer.”
“You know… who I… am?”
“You aren’t the changeling who attacked us, and neither was the one pretending to be a dwarf in the mines.”
“Three…?”
“Yes, that’s what I heard his ‘name’ was.”
“Why aren’t you… trying to catch… him…?”
“Why would we? He didn’t harm anypony. In fact, I myself saw him play hide and seek with some foals. He was pretty bad at it due to his glowing legs.”
“But… we are… changelings…?”
The dwarf chuckles.
“Granted, I haven’t seen one of you in my lifetime before you brought the small one here, but I’m not a dwarf who would complain about somepony saving my ass.”
Two relaxes, barely conscious at this point.
”I’m sorry, boss. I failed to stop her, I showed myself to the dwarves, and the drone escaped.”
”You’re alive, Two. That’s all that counts.”
A dwarven guard rushes towards our meeting in the royal tavern, leaning down to my ear and whispering:
“We caught a changeling, queen, and it’s not the one with the fake beard.”
Well… it was good while it lasted. Time to climb back up to the vents.
”Boss, BOSS!” yells Three as I follow the dwarves into the prison, ”I found Six!”
”This fast, Three? How the hole did you do it?”
Three’s crawling up a fresh, unshored mine shaft filled with jagged rocks, following a faint scent of changeling blood, and overwhelming feeling of dread.
”Well, boss, Six is a drone, right? I was on my way back when you called me, and I asked the dwarves where the changeling went. Some were suspicious and said that one was just standing in front of them, but when I described Six, they got the idea. I lost him in the mines, but then I asked myself - Three, where would you run off to if you had nowhere to go and the bad guys were after you? A hole! But a smart drone like Six wouldn’t just pick any hole. Everyone can look for a hole that goes down, but one that goes up… now that’s clever!”
I… I don’t know if that makes sense, if Three just rolled a hundred on luck, or if all the bad stuff he suffered in his past life is being balanced out now, but when he pushes himself through a tight spot into a small pocket of empty space, part of the surrounding blackness is trembling, and has tiny white fangs as well as glowing teal eyes.
“Hi, Six!” says Three cheerfully, runes on his body lighting the narrow space up, “Boss sent me to find you.”
“N-No!” sobs Six, “Everyone wants to kill me… the dwarves, Five, the scary small infiltrator. I didn’t do anything to anyone. I-”
Three pulls Six into a tight hug despite the drone’s resistance, and rubs his muzzle against Six.
“Awww, don’t worry, everything will be okay. Doctor Three is here, and prescribes ten milligrams of nuzzlin!”
He holds Six until his trembling, sobbing, and whimpering subside. There’s no one, nothing, no horror, and no darkness that can resist the relaxing power of the everlasting ball of love surrounding Three.