> In an Effort to Stay Evil
>  by Empirical Deduction
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> He Protects the Refugees (10 BNM)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grinning, youthful faces.  The ghostly image of an old man in a belled robe.  A fierce, open howl - like wind blowing through a cave.  Color.  Light.  Sound.  All things bleeding together.  Tumbling.  Disoriented.  Cold.

These were the last things he remembered before awaking in a crater on the side of a mountain.  

He rose from the cracked ground, slow and stiff, as snow billowed and blew through the night air around him.  The dull clank of shifting armor and metal boots was carried away by the wind as he lifted himself up.  He stood straight, and cast his gaze around, slowly sweeping it over the mountain range he found himself in the  midst of.  Snow and stone ran down and away in two directions, dropping into a steep, craggy cliff before him and sloping towards a valley behind.  His crater itself had been smote into the angled side of one of the taller mountains, near a plateau connecting it to its neighbor.  Both peaks stretched up to penetrate the low-hanging clouds above.  It reminded him briefly of his tower, and anger sparked within.  

He looked around with new purpose, ignoring the aching of his armor-clad body as he tried to determine where he was.  Nothing but snow for miles past the cliff.  He didn't recognize the mountain line; no landmark stood out to him.    As he turned, he noted what looked to be a cluster of ramshackle tents in the valley, but little else before the mountains enveloped it at the other side.  In growing frustration he cast his gaze further afield, finally taking notice of the moon.  It hung in the night sky over the snow planes, bright and full -  and nearly without blemish.  Few pockmarks or dark patches, and none familiar.

This was not his moon.  This was not his Earth.

He clenched his fists as the realization sank in.  He had lost.  Everything he had built, everything he had done, all the battles and sacrifices and subjugation, all of it was for nothing.  He had lost absolutely everything.  And so too went a measure of his self-control.  He roared his pain, his fury and his loss over the snow, his cry battling the wind.  Then it was spent, and he sank to his knees in his chilling armor.  He sat upon his heels and his back bent, his thoughts turned inward, his hands splayed at his sides; he was lost to time and sense until someone spoke.

"Hello?"

His head snapped to his left, his gaze fixing upon a strange, small creature - like a little horse with massive eyes.  It was wearing a cloak to keep off the cold.  The thing, whatever it was, flinched back under his sudden attention.  That act at least was familiar, and so dark thoughts were set aside as curiosity came to the fore.

"S-so...you are alive then."

He said nothing.  The creature had clearly spoken, and the cautious look in those large eyes spoke of intelligence.  Not some mere construct or beast then.  He continued to observe the strange thing - Green fur?  Pink eyes? And are those facets in its eyes? - giving it more than enough time to build up the courage and speak once more.

"That armor...are...are you...do you belong to King Sombra?"  Its gaze focused on the horn-like spikes that circled the crown of his helmet.

"I belong to no man."  A spark of his old passion was struck within.  True, it was merely indignation, but he spoke his first true words on this world firmly and defiantly.  He would not be ruled.

The creature flinched back again, before giving him a nervous smile. "Oh.  That...that's good!  We got free too!"

"...We?"

"Yes; me and the others.  We escaped.  We're not slaves anymore."

Long ignored memories stirred within the man before he tamped them down.  His curiosity about these escaped slaves, or this "King Sombra", was deadened as the brief memories left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.  His head turned forward once more, gazing out over the cliff.

"Leave me, creature."

"W-what?  But you sounded so...so angry.  And sad."

He said nothing.  That was not worth dignifying with a reply.

"You...don't have to deal with it alone?"

Those glowing red eyes turned themselves upon the pony once more.  While the sentiment was asinine, curiosity was starting to return.  "Do you have a name, creature?"

"Of course; I'm Forge Bellows.  But you can call me Puffy; everypony does."  The man sensed a faint warmth somewhere within himself.  Though it had been a long time since he had last experienced the emotion, he believed it to be embarrassment on "Puffy's" behalf.  The creature continued, "What about you?"

"I am Forgath Ironblood."

"Hey, our names are kinda similar!"

"...No, no they are not."

"Well...anyway, you should come to the camp."

"Why?"

"It's where all of us have gathered.  We're all escapees and outcasts; we all know...pain.  It's not good to be alone, and together...together we might have a chance."

Forgath considered.  He was little-moved by talk of chances, and he surely didn't need sympathy.  But then, what difference did it make?  If he went with the creature, at least he could sate his curiosity a little further.  He stood slowly, and Puffy backed off a little as Forgath rose to his intimidating stature; the creature didn't quite come up to his belt. He drew in a deep, cold breath, letting it out in a sigh that only just became a word near the end:

"...Fine."

Puffy blinked a few times, before breaking into a smile.  "You...you will?  Alright then!  Follow me!"  And with that, they were off.  Or, very nearly.

"Wait.  What...are you?"

"Huh?  What do you mean?"

"I've never seen a creature like you before.  Are you a horse?"

"I'm a pony."

"I've never seen a pony like you before."

"Oh!  Well, I'm a crystal pony.  I'm surprised I seem that different though; we're really very similar to other ponies."

"...If you say so.  Lead on, crystal pony."

"Puffy."  

With that correction, the crystal pony lead him away from the cliff and down a sloping path into the valley.  The snow crunched under hooves and boots as they wound back and forth, here across a straighter segment, there down a steeper incline, following a set of slowly-filling hoofprints left on the way up.  Once they were in the valley proper progress was swift, the man's firm strides matching the pony's loping trot.  Puffy seemed excited to be returning with another, while Forgath had at least one more goal driving him, simple as it was.  The silence didn't last long, broken just as one might expect.

"Are you...cold in that armor?"

"It does not bother me."

"Ah...alright.  Did you have anyone....with you?  You know, when you...?"

"I need no other."

"Oh.  Um.  I see.   W-well just wait until you see the camp!  It's not much, but it's much better than dying in the snow!"

"We shall see."

"Hey, that almost sounded like a joke!"

"Take it as you will."

"Hah!  Well okay then, I take it as a joke."

"Are all...ponies...as talkative as you are?"

"Oh no, most of them are pretty gloomy right now.  To be honest, it's getting harder to keep their spirits up; most of them are...quiet.  But that's okay; I can do the talking for all of them."

"...What was your given name again?"

"Forge Bellows."

"Hm.  Auspicious."

"Awe-spit-what?"

"Never mind.  You may take that as a joke."

"Eh?  Well...okay then!  I don't get it, but I hope it was funny?"

"I have found some amusement in it."

Puffy laughed, imagining a smile on the face under the helmet - a face that had to have an awfully short muzzle, the thought occurred.  "Well some is better than none!  See, you're cheering up already."

"Mm.  Are we near?"

"Just over the next - ah, there, see?"

The valley they walked in was fairly flat once one made it down the slope into the valley itself, though the snow blew and settled into sloping hillocks and dunes; it was at the top of one of these that they spotted the camp, such as it was.  A rough circle of irregular tents and a few minor structures stood at the bottom of a dune, a valley in a valley, which Forgath suspected was to avoid notice.  As they approached, the state of the camp grew more and more apparent.

The tents themselves would have been flattered to be called "ramshackle", such was the state of their construction; strips and patches of cloth hung from whatever straight bits of wood and metal could be easily found, with bits of twine or cord (and gathering snow) binding the whole hodge-podge together at what passed for seams.  The few other structures were, if anything, less impressive; a small, closed-off area that Forgath took to be a privy, a lean-to acting as storage for meager belongings and what might be foodstocks, and what appeared to be a pony sculpted out of snow.  In the center was a small fire pit and it did not excel - neither as a fire nor as a pit; a small piece of glowing wood and the occasional flame was just barely shielded from the wind, and that was likely more due the ring of beings huddled close around it. Forgath suspected that the tents were empty, or near-enough; the number of wrapped and shivering figures around the fire pit was more than enough to occupy all of them.

"Hey everypony!  We're back!"

Heads turned, and soon the pair were greeted by various shades of snowy muzzle poking out from hoods; tired gazes turned suddenly suspicious as Puffy lead the large, armored form towards them.  Forgath stopped at a modest distance as Puffy bounded the last few lengths up to the ring.

"Puffy," one of them spoke, "What is that?"

"I found another!  He's an outcast, just like us!"

"And you invited it back just like that?" This from a second. "What if it's dangerous?  What if it's sent by...by...."

"Don't worry, I asked; he said he doesn't belong to anypony!"

"You asked?"

"Yup!"

The ponies moved closer to each other, not that they had much space to do so, whispering and shooting furtive glances by clumps and groups at the outsider.  Forgath, for his part, frowned behind his visor at the noise.  Fear and suspicion, and not the least undeserved.  Puffy's patience appeared to be at its limit.

"Come on, we've all escaped; none of us would want to go back, and neither would he."

At that, Forgath tilted his head. "Go...back?"

Puffy turned to look at him. "You know, to King Sombra?"

"I know nothing of 'King Sombra'.  He was your master?"

"Huh?  Wait, he wasn't yours?"

"I would die first."

Appraising looks came from the ponies at that, sizing up this biped in his armor.  At the very least he did have the look of a fighter around him.  One spoke up.

"So you will not try to take us back?"

"Why would I?  What would I gain?"

Another jumped in, "Somra's favor!  Why should we trust you?"

A loud sigh came from a third. "What does it matter?  We're all going to freeze to death out here; one more freezing with us makes no difference."

Eyes drifted quickly back to the fire pit.  Forgath noticed that the wood had burned through; coals and nothing more waited there.  Several ponies started up, talking over one another until their voices blended together in a most irritating way.

"Doomsaying isn't going to help!"

"Somepony see if we have any more wood."

"I knew it, we're dead."

"I don't hear you coming up with a plan!"

"Nothing non-essential; we already burned all the..."

"Why don't we just..."

"We can't go on like..."

"What about him? Is he..."

"Calm down, none of..."

"I wish we..."

"Enough!"

Out from the ice of the fire pit leapt a great, dark flame, all ruby and jet.  In an instant it banished the pitiful coals and reached up, and up, rising into a pillar and cracking the ice around it.  The ponies scrabbled back in surprise, a few of the slower yelping at the sudden onslaught of heat.   And heat there was; already the former fire pit began to widen, the nearest snow and ice melting back.  A few of the ponies, whether quicker on the uptake or simply more desperate to feel warm again, stretched out hooves and muzzles towards the flame to bask.  Every eye soon turned to the armored man, one five-fingered gauntlet raised in a fist, tendrils of magic crawling up from between the fingers.  He spoke.

"Enough of this whining!  You have fire, you have warmth, is that enough to keep you quiet?"

Stunned ponies exchanged glances as the pillar continued to burn, the slowly retreating ice and snow revealing solid rock at the bottom of the widening pit.  Awe and fear in varied measure could be seen by the faint light given off by this work of dark sorcery.  Nopony thought to answer his question.  Nopony thought it was a question that needed answering.  

Except for Puffy.

"Having houses would be nice too."

A faint "clank" as an armored head turned to look at the green pony.  A gasp rose up from the rest of the refugees.  Puffy, hooves lifted towards the fire, gave a shrug.

"What?  It would."

Forgath took a long moment to consider, his fist slowly returning to his side.  Bravery?  Stupidity?  He could not say.  Impudence, certainly, but there was a certain...charm.  An innocence, perhaps.  He let his gaze sweep along the rest of the ponies, ears lowering in deference and fear as they noticed his attention, a few going as far as to cringe back as if from a blow.  These creatures had been broken not long ago.  But they had escaped their "King"?  The king they had served as slaves.  Useful creatures, then.

"Forge Bellows."

"Puffy."  Came the correction.

He did not dignify it with a response. "What did King Sombra put you to?  What tasks did you ponies do for him?"

"Most...everything?  Mining?  Housekeeping?  Various trades?  He...he enslaved everyone; there are no free citizens under his rule.  It's...horrible."  Puffy's face drooped slightly at the remembering, a shudder causing a pink mane and tail to quiver.

"Mmmmm...It will do."

"Huh?"

"Forge Bellows, -"

"Puffy!"

"...Puffy.  I will offer you ponies a bargain."

"What kind of bargain?"

"You want shelter; I can create a place for you to live.  You want safety; I can lay waste to any who would attack you.  You want freedom; I can make sure you'll never be slaves again."

The pony squinted.  "And what do you want for all that?"

"Serve me.  Not as slaves in chains, but as loyal minions; together, we shall raise a city.  Under my banner, empowered by my magic, none will threaten you.  You will be free to live and do as you please, so long as you bow to me and obey my commands.  Join me."

"...Yeah, okay, that sounds good."

"Puffy!  What are you say-"

"Good!  We have an agreement."

"Hey, hang on, Puffy doesn't speak for all of us!"

An armored head turned to regard the other ponies - no longer shivering thanks to the warmth of the fire.  "Do any of you disagree?"

A moment passed as the ponies exchanged nervous glances, but none saw fit to speak up.  Puffy couldn't help but smirk as Forgath nodded.

"Good.  Then let's begin."

Forgath reached down, his hands burning with arcane might.  He reached for things familiar, hard and cold.  He touched the ice and the iron far beneath, and they rose to his call.  Parting at his will, rising into simple walls, the ice heeded his magics.  The rest would come soon enough; he could bring up the first of the iron to be wrought into the simple tools and structures his minions would need. Lowering the ponies to the stone via retreating ice, he made his way towards them; there was some fear, even a squeak of panic, but he paid it no mind.  Soon they beheld the tools he made, divvying them up.  The work would begin.  And Forgath found, once more, that he had purpose.
> He Gives a Speech (990 AB)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"My minions!  Tremble and know me as your Lord!"

A tremendous cheer rose from the gathered crowd; hooves stomped in applause and the icy walls of the city rang with joyful shouts and whistles.  The city's central plaza was full; from the edge of the central stage all the way back to the stone streets that encircled the plaza, ponies were packed shoulder-to-shoulder.  Many more leaned from the walkways of the higher street and from the windows and the rooftops; nearly the entire city had turned out for the speech.  A sea of bright, pastel colors dotted the mixed stone and pale ice and dark iron of the city nearest.  All attention was on the tall figure of Forgath, standing atop the stage towards one edge, clad in his full armor, freshly polished, his helmet adorned with the spiky crown of his rule.  Behind him, in the very center of the stage, the pillar of dark fire yet blazed.  Its flickering flames lapped out from the column as it rose high, leaving any who looked at it too long to perceive agonized shapes in its tongues.  On the stage with him were a small court of ponies - just shy of a dozen.  They stood proudly, two in their concealing robes, three in armor, and six in rather snazzy suits (all in properly dark tones, of course).  To either side of the line upon the stage were two clusters of ponies, less extravagantly but no less formally dressed.  They sent the occasional smile and wave out towards the crowd whenever Forgath was not looking - and as the Lord's attention moved from point to point in the crowd, he was not looking most of the time.

As the cheers died back to a manageable level, he continued.  "Yes, my minions, be joyful, for you stand at the pinnacle of our achievement!  One-thousand years ago to the day, your forebearers stood on this very spot, covered in snow, living in ramshackle tents, slowly dying in the cold.  I met them there, led by their undaunted chief, Forge Bellows."  He was forced to pause as a portion of the crowd shouted "Puffy!" and others laughed, but he paid them no mind.  "I offered them power and safety if they would join me, and look how far we have come!"  

The cheers erupted again, echoing amid the Gothic architecture of the city.  

"Our city stands, in defiance of the cold!  Our city grows, in defiance of the windigo!  Our city thrives, in defiance of all our foes!"  Whoops and hollers followed each proclamation.  "Never before have we been more mighty!  Our warriors stand without fear, and our mages teach secrets that would sear the mind of lesser beings.  But it is not just our generals and magi that are to be lauded," here, he turned and swept a hand to indicate the line of ponies behind him.  "Our tradesmen, craftsmen, merchants, and administrators have made us not just mighty but prosperous.  Be it mind or metal, coin or cloth, the world quakes when I stretch out my hand, and you are my reach.  My most skilled and loyal stand before you; what say you, my minions?"

Once again, a great cheer arose.  The line of exalted ponies stood a little straighter, smiles tugging at stoic lips as they basked in the praise of their people.

Turning to face the line, he continued.  "Be proud, my generals, my magi, my keepers; you serve me well."  A hand indicated the clusters to either side, one after another.  "And the prized of our city; guild leaders, scholars, commanders, friends, all those who could be called noble - you too be proud."

If anything, there was a greater cheer that rose up; while relatively few in the crowd were close to the city's most illustrious, nearly everypony ended up knowing one or two of the "nobles", for they included those accomplished in nearly every craft, business, and pursuit.  The groups largely tried to stand stoically as the illustrious had, but many couldn't resist a few waves or blown kisses, and one pink filly was all but pronking in place as she shouted "Yay, Dad!"

Resuming his slow turn, Forgath addressed the crowd after the cries again died down  "Work hard, my minions; work hard and raise our city higher; show the world my power in your every step.  Serve me well and obey, and together we shall make the next thousand years greater still than the last!"  

There were a few ponies (and other beings) scattered through the plaza that seemed confused at all the cheering that some of this speech got, including visitors from elsewhere and a small number of diplomats, but nopony paid much attention to them; tourists are going to be tourists, after all.  Still, it was not just the sight of this armored biped nor his questionable speech that they found odd, but the further sight of the tiny blue foal sitting atop his head.  For throughout the entire speech she sat up there, looking out from behind the spikes of his crown, waving to the crowd and flapping little leathery wings as she giggled and babbled to herself.  The less-confused portion of the crowd made a habit of waving back and making faces at the adorable little thing - at least so long as Forgath wasn't looking at them, of course.  Forgath's slow turns and level gaze did nothing to dislodge her; she seemed perfectly content to sit up there.

"And so, let the millennial celebration begin!"

One last whoop from the crowd, a flare from the pillar of flame, and the crowd began to break up, moving to the various shops that lined the plaza and the stalls that lined the nearby streets.  Carts of food and knicknacks were pushed into the plaza proper once the crowd started to thin, and the festivities began in earnest.  Over the day and well into the night ponies would feast and celebrate, in deference to their dark lord's order of course.

As the ponies from the stage made their way to the stairs to join in the ruckus themselves, Forgath made his way over to one of the groups - and was met halfway by the pronking pink filly who had shouted out earlier.  She bounded her way around him in a little circle, her yellow pigtails bouncing as she chattered excitedly. "Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, can we go?  Can we play some games?  I wanna play some games and win a stuffed bat and eat some taffy and and and...."

"Settle down, settle down.  First, let's get you and your sister some food."

"Yaaaaay!"





Later that evening when they arrived back at The Tower of Despair, a little filly was still enthralled.  

"...And did you see the way I threw the ball?  It went right into the cup!  That's how I won my new stuffed duck!"

"Mmmmhm, I was there."  Forgath inclined his head slightly to the guards as he passed, getting a giggle from the foal atop who had wanted to ride home and now rocked forward, forcing him to steady his helmet.  The guards, plenty stoic, stamped a quick salute.  They pointedly ignored the few plush toys and similar fair fare their lord carried in a bag at his side.

"And the popcorn!  That stuff was good!  You should tell somepony to import more of that!"

"Mmmhmmm."

"And when we got to play Pin the Dagger in the Traitor?  I got it on the first try!"

"Barely."

"Hey, the tail counts!"

"If you say so."

She stuck out her tongue at him, blowing a smiling little raspberry. "You're just jealous."

"I missed on purpose."

"Sure Dad, Suuuuure."

As they reached the apartments (passing further guards), Forgath gingerly plucked the foal from atop his head, who whined and wiggled until she got a belly-tickling.  Once she was safely set on the floor to play and watched by her sister, he went about removing his armor.  The gauntlets went first, unstrapped and freeing a pair of blackened hands.  The helmet second, placed upon the top of a convenient rack.  Boots and greaves and gorget and cuirass followed, one after the next.  With his magic to help, eventually he was left in more simple fare; a tunic, pants, and a shirt of fine chain over his chest.

"So, can we stay up late tonight?"

"No.  Little fillies need their sleep so they can grow up to be strong."

"Aw, but everyone else is staying up!"

"The adults are, yes."

"C'mon, we'll behave!"  Here she indicated her younger sister, who blew a raspberry in support.

"Hah.  Dinner, and then bed."

She gave him her best pout, a hoof poking at his leg as he passed.  "Daaaaad, I'm serious!"  

Forgath's instincts perked.  Turning slowly, he looked down on her with his stony gaze.  Her eyes widened; she recognized her mistake, but it was too late now.  Forgath leaned a little closer, the beginning of dark mirth welling up within him.  The filly raised her hooves, as if to ward off what she knew was coming, but it was in vain.  Forgath opened his mouth, and spoke the most cruel words he possibly could.

"Hi Serious; I'm Dad."





After dinner arrived and was eaten, the pair of fillies had played until they tired and then nestled up against their father to listen to him read.  It wasn't long before they were dozing, the smaller in his lap and the other against his side.

Forgath reached down, his hands still free of their gauntlets.  He reached for things familiar, soft and dear.  He gently stroked the manes of his two drowsy foals and they nestled closer.  Parting at his touch, running in soft locks, their hair passed through his fingers.  The rest was tended to soon enough; he pet the foals a few more times, getting little yawns that betrayed just what his daughters needed.  Lifting the ponies gently into his arms, he made his way towards the bedrooms; there was some wiggling and one tired objection, but he paid it no mind.  Soon they rested in bed and crib, sleeping soundly.  Their dreams would come.  And Forgath knew, as he long had, that he had purpose.
> He Raises a Camp (10 BNM)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You know, we don't really want to be found by King Sombra, so...you might want to, you know, turn down that giant obvious pillar of fire?  Maybe?"

Forgath had just finished assigning the first tasks to his new minions - except for one, it seemed.  Looking down, he found Puffy standing beside him, pointing over towards the distinct black-red flames.  His eyes traced up to the peak of the pillar and he nodded, raising his hand and focusing his will.  The pillar shrank until it it was merely twice the human's size, if just as hot as before.

A few ponies saw the exchange, taking note.

The iron Forgath had been able to call and refine through his dark arts had been enough for many simple tools; picks, shovels, tongs, mallets, wedges, an anvil - the various sundries one would need to dig, mine, or forge.  They were basic and temporary, the touch of his magic not enough to refine and temper better alloys, but steel would come in time.  His magic did nothing to make them comfortable to wield, so ponies took to wrapping bits of cloth around the shafts in place of proper handles.  Still, it was a start.

His magic had already swept a rocky circle around the pillar clear of ice, forcing it back and raising it up into a wall with two openings.  For simple dwellings he called and shaped more ice within the boundary away from the flame, forming crude huts that could be lined with snow and fur for insulation.  The fabric of the former tents could be reused for other things, and it was less than an hour before he had icy "houses" - closer to smooth, square igloos - formed atop the rock in the clearing.  They were no more special than the tools, but they would keep off the wind and hold heat better than the open air.

He had minions, they had tasks and shelter.  With that, his grand, dark empire had taken root.  Still, Forgath couldn't help but think something was missing, something important...

"Forge Bellows."

"Puffy."

"What do you eat?"

"Er...not a lot right now, honestly.  Fruits and vegetables and grains and grasses and flowers, but we weren't able to smuggle out much as we ran.  We're rationing, and there are caves in the nearby mountains that might have hardy plants or fungi, but we weren't eager to look; caves like that tend to be occupied."

"I see.  No meat?"

"Meat is a luxury at best, and an acquired taste too; most of us have never had it."

"Hm.  You're not hunters then?"

"We're ponies."

"So I see.  Without game, farming will have to do.  Do any of you know how to farm fungus?"

"I'm pretty sure one of us had a mushroom for a cutie-mark, hang on, I'll go check."

"A what?"

Puffy was already bounding through the snow towards the workers by the time he spoke, and so he didn't get an answer.  Forgath shook his head, taking the time to survey the progress of his minions.  A squad of ponies near the edge of the ring had begun digging downward with picks and shovels, and they had gotten further than Forgath would have expected.  Then again, between being ponies and having prior experience in mining, he supposed he really didn't know what to expect.  Another group of ponies was disassembling the tents and repurposing the cloth, or moving supplies into the new structures.  A few of the "houses" already had hanging cloth in place of doors.  Still others had taken it upon themselves to freshen up their water supply, and were heating chunks of ice in pots near the pillar.  A small group were wandering further afield in pairs, every so often stopping to chip down with their picks, seeking less-rocky terrain.

Forgath waited and watched.  He considered making his way over to the group Puffy had run off to, but he thought better of it.  After all, micromanaging minions minimizes merit; if he wanted them to be able to do anything without his instruction, they would have to do something without his instruction.  Besides, now he could take a few moments to watch the clouds twisting; pillars of flame did interesting things to the weather.

He didn't have to wait long before a shaggy brown pony with a similarly-shaggy violet mane and tail was led over by Puffy.  This one had shed his cloak; apparently his fur and the pillar were enough for him this close to it.  Forgath squinted behind his visor as he noticed the longer violet beard on the pony's chin, but dismissed it as just one more strange thing about these creatures.  Puffy gestured to the newcomer with a nod.

"Here he is; our agricultural expert."

Forgath nodding, crossing his arms. "And you are...?"

"Plump Helmet, sir."  The pony's voice was gruff, but he nodded respectfully enough.  "I'm a mushroom farmer, but I know enough to grow whatever we can get."

"Good.  Do we have any seeds?"

"Some crystal corn and berries we hid from hungry mouths, but no mushroom spawn - shame too; cave mushrooms are an all-purpose crop."

"I already have ponies searching for soil beneath the ice and water is plentiful.  Will further preparations be required?"

"A growing-house for the crystal crops would be best; they won't take the ice well."

"And mushrooms?"

"If you can find any, all we need is a cave to lay down sod in."

"The mushrooms are common to caves in this area?"

"Yeah, there's one to the west that looked like a good fit."

"Good.  You and Forge Bellows will accompany me to the cave."

"What?!"

"Puffy!"

"Gather what supplies we will need."

"But sir, caves like that are probably occupied!  And we're not fighters!"

Puffy snorted.  "I can fight."

"And I'm not a fighter!"

Forgath shook his head.  "No simple cave-dweller can stand against my magic.  Still, tell me what we are likely to find."





An hour later found Forgath, Puffy, and Plump Helmet at the entrance to a cave.  The entrance resembled nothing more than a gash in the basalt, only a dozen feet elevated from the snow of the valley behind them.  The entrance sloped downward, a trail of ice zig-zagging along the gravely incline.  Forgath entered first, the reddish glow of his dark power casting strange shadows along the walls.  He was followed by Puffy, bearing a simple shield upon a forelimb, another of Forgath's basic creations.  Plump brought up the rear, clad once again in cloak.  He stayed close to Puffy for defense and carried what bags and pouches could be spared from the camp.

The spelunking party delved downward; the initial passage gave way to a round chamber containing a white, frozen pond, the end of the trail of ice that accompanied them.  The scent of snow and dust lingered on the near-still air; the absence of wind made the cave feel warmer than the outside.  Forgath brightened his spell, removing some of the red tint in the process; the brighter orange firelight coated the walls, revealing three exits from the chamber.  Plump looked around for a few moments before shaking his head. "Too close to the surface, but promising.  The ice on the ceiling means that there's plenty of water getting in; we just need to get a little further down."

While one of the passages was too small for Forgath's mighty armored form, the other two could be traversed.  Picking one they went onward and downward, a twisty path going for some modest distance before leading into a second, oblong chamber.  Tiny crystals in blotchy patterns across the wall and ceiling reflected their light and a stale, coppery smell met them as they advanced.  Puffy took a few moments to examine one of the crystal formations, before shrugging and commenting, "Quartz; nothing important."

Plump scrunched his nose at the scent, turning to Forgath as Puffy took the time to search the room further. "Blood?"

He got a nod. "Blood, but not fresh."

"Mmm.  That's good then."

"Depends.  If the food's not fresh, whatever was hunting might be hungry."

Plump frowned deeper, taking position by Puffy again as they progressed through the single exit.  So it went for two further chambers; aside from an interesting edged formation in the basalt, hints of other encroaching ores, or occasional broadening and narrowing of the path of ice following their descent, nothing special was found.  All the while the coppery smell grew more noticeable, and it was accompanied by one other thing just shy of the fifth chamber.

"Wait.  Look."  Forgath and Puffy paused, turning back to where Plump gestured down with a hoof.  The pair looked for a moment, until a frustrated Plump Helmet gave the ice a tap with a hoof, cracking the upper layer and revealing a thin trickle of water running along the rock beneath.  "It's gotten warm enough that the ice can melt and flow freely down rather than just creeping.  The next one could be it."

A look passed between the ponies and then to their lord, but he was already straightening up, rolling his armored shoulders as he resumed the walk.  "Good.  It's been too long since I've been on this end."

The ponies exchanged a second, rather more skeptical look before they followed.  Puffy cocked her head, asking the question on both of their minds. "Um....'this end'?"

"Hm?  Ah.  You see, for decades I have researched my magics, built strongholds, crushed resistance, dealt with meddling kids - I think this is the first time in fifty years that I'm raiding something else's stronghold!"  He broke into a baritone cackle, which only faded slightly when he noticed that the ponies weren't laughing with him.  He didn't need their approval; it was still funny to him.

And so it was that a faintly-cackling Forgath walked into the largest chamber yet and drew the attention of every centipede in the room in no time at all.

The room was wide, wider than any other they'd been in.  Where in prior rooms the ice had carved channels and rivulets ever downward, here liquid water pooled in several places as it flowed through the room, leaving three ponds and a lingering scent of sulfur.  Around the pools, life flourished; slime molds clung to the near walls and fungi surrounded them in halos at their banks. Signs of smaller creatures that lived off the growths dotted the thin layer of mycelial loam, but the only creatures of note were the giant centipedes.

Most of their number were as large as ponies, while the largest few were nearly as long as Forgath was tall. There couldn't have been more than a dozen present, but the click of chitinous legs on stone was nearly deafening as the largest six rushed directly towards Forgath.  One pulled ahead, brave or hungry, and reached Forgath before the others.

He was surprised for long enough for the centipede to get its mandibles around an arm, but no more than that.  His fingers spread and the glow of his other hand became a blaze, darkening from its softer shade to cruel scarlet and black. His hand cut a trail of flame through the air, and through the centipede in turn.  It let loose a chittering sort of complaint, the front end still clinging to him with legs and mouth scrabbling at his armor while the lower half flopped about.  

While Forgath was dealing with the first, the remainder completed their charge.  Puffy leapt forward with a yell even as Forgath stripped the clinging upper body from his arm.  The shield came up, catching the quickest one with a 'clang' and tipping it backward, though it would be only a moment before it righted.  The upper half of the bisected one was tossed fiercely into the remainder, followed by a burst of flame that forced the chitinous mass to scatter.  

"Be careful!  There are mushrooms here, and we don't want them burned!" Plump Helmet stayed in the relative safety of the tunnel as Puffy spun and bucked, knocking the recovered (and singed) centipede away.  He was not getting anywhere near the fight; giant centipedes were unnerving enough even without the only light being an uneven dark red.

Forgath growled his irritation, helmet clacking back and forth has he watched the vermin move to surround them, a pair scrabbling up the walls as the other three drove forward.  Without his first recourse he seized upon the first of the oncoming trio, gripping it just under the head and bending it back over its body.  It was flexible enough that that wasn't going to do it harm, so he brought up a big steel boot to complete the job, but its lower body lashed and darted and his killing blow landed wide, crushing only a pair of legs with a sickening crunch.

While the second peeled off to help its brother, the third rushed forward low to the ground, making to snap at Puffy's hooves.  The point of the shield struck down, clanging off the rock and forcing the centipede to flinch back.  Again, and again, it pressed forward, but paused each time the shield came down.  With each darting motion Puffy was forced back, until it stuck its neck out just far enough; Puffy leapt forward, driving the point of shield down just behind its head and loosing a splatter of green blood across the ground.  A pink-maned head came up, looking about for further foes - and spotting the two climbing along the walls, heading right for where Plump Helmet waited.  The shield was plucked from the ground as Puffy left Forgath to deal with his two, shouting for Plump to back up further.

Forgath felt the second one as it clambered up the back of his armor. Releasing the first he reached back for it, grasping at it as a mandible wedged its way under the lip of his helmet.  Just as he felt it grazing his skin he got hold of the thing's head.  Mushrooms be damned, he was not going to have that; he released a burst of flame from the gripping palm, sending a spasm through its form and leaving its corpse thrashing as it fell off of him.  The one he had been holding down was nowhere to be seen; saved by its companion, it had made good on its escape.

Forgath looked around with something of a laugh, only to stop stark as he saw his two minions slowly backed down the tunnel by forms crawling around the rounded opening.  That far away for Forgath's magic, the light was dimmer, and Puffy was having to focus on sweeping shield bashes and darting motions to keep Plump safe.  Were they not there, Forgath would simply fill the tunnel with his flame, but he didn't trust Puffy's shield to protect them well enough.  The second option then; he called more magic out, the one hand burning brighter while reaching the other down to slap against the water flowing from the tunnel.  A crackling line of his power ran up the stream towards his minions; he felt it gather beneath one of the centipedes before bursting forth in a spike of ice.  The unaware creature had no chance to dodge, and it was impaled through its chitin against the ceiling.

With one foe down, Puffy pressed the opportunity, lashing out with her shield and battering the other one back, the "clang" resounding through the tunnel.  Another strike, a third, and the position was right; a second icicle stabbed forth.  The centipede was struck off-center and it rolled down the ice rather than being run through - only to be pinned at the base by a shield and ended by a hoof.

Forgath stood, taking his hand from where it rested against the ice, keeping the flames burning around the other.  He looked around, but saw no further foe; if they were still lying in wait, they did it from the safe darkness of the further exits.  The ponies made their way back to their lord, Puffy panting and Plump shaking.

"I...I told you, I'm not a fighter; I'm not built for this."

"Plump, you're stronger than I am."

"Doesn't change the fact."

"That's enough, you two.  We have won; savor the victory.  Puffy, stay with Plump Helmet.  Plump, gather what mushrooms or other things you desire; they're all yours.  I'm going to do some harvesting of my own."

As the pair began to move about the room, Forgath reached down to a boot, drawing a knife from its sheath.  Too small to have been considered as a weapon to wield against the creatures, it was none the less the only blade he had with him when he was cast out of his world.  He looked at it for a few moments, the sight of the engraving briefly taking him back.  With a shake he cleared his head, then moved towards the nearest centipede and got to work.





Making their way down from the snowy slope of the valley wall, the newly-laden trio headed back towards the pillar of fire in the distance.  Forgath strode with satisfied purpose, Puffy with optimism, and Plump Helmet with the weight of many bags of spores and meat.  

"Well, that wasn't as...exhilarating as I had hoped, but we got what we needed."

Plump nodded, steadying his breathing as he plodded along.  "Yes, my lord; we have enough mushroom spawn to start a farm with plenty of surplus.  Not much in the way of other seeds; it's going to be mostly mushrooms until we can grow more."

"My minions will make do.  We have the meat for variety."

Puffy let out a snort, moving up to walk beside Forgath. "Nopony is going to eat that."

"I don't see why not.  It's rich meat."

"Most of us don't even like meat, to say nothing of giant bug meat."

A clanking armored shrug met the pronouncement. "Fine.  More for me.  At any rate, this was a successful expedition; good job, my minions, you have served me well."

Puffy nodded. "Whatever helps the settlement."

Plump added, "Our fortunes rise and fall together."  He was not above a mumbled "for better or worse" afterward.

Forgath, having missed the mumbling, nodded. "That's it exactly.  Together, we shall rise.  Hm.  I think I shall start on a tower when we return."

"A...tower?  Why's that?"  Puffy's green head tilted to one side.

"To have a seat of my power of course.  And a place to renew my research.  It could also act as a keep and watch-point."

"Sure, but why a tower exactly?"

"What would you suggest instead?"

"What about an acropolis?"

"No hills large enough to build one atop that it would make a difference."

"Hmmm...maybe a castle?"

"Too big and ambitious this early.  Besides, if you put a wall around a tower, you've got a castle."

"A fortress?"

"The settlement itself will be, given time."

"What about a dungeon?"

"It's not a bad idea.  We are going to have underground farms, storage, and other things.  But they don't have the imposing majesty of the tower."

"Not sure I'd agree, Lord," Plump interjected, "dungeons are imposing in their own way."  Plump tilted his head back and forth as he considered, before abruptly blinking as he realized what sort of conversation he had leapt into.

Forgath shook his helmeted head.  "But there are practical issues to consider, especially if you want to use it to protect your minions.  No, I don't think a dungeon is the right step.  Besides, they're too cliché."

"For you?" Puffy's faux-surprise was clear.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing!"  Puffy grinned and pronked ahead a few steps.

"Mmmhm."  Forgath sounded skeptical, but he didn't press the issue.  His tastes weren't cliché after all, they were classic; such distinctions could be lost on minions, and it was rarely worth the time to educate them on aesthetics.

Besides, Puffy was a pastel green pony with pink hair and lighter pink eyes.

Forgath's stride caught briefly as he wondered if his choice in minion would reflect poorly upon him.  They weren't exactly menacing and from what little he'd seen of them without their cloaks many of them had shades of fur that were unbecoming for proper minions.  Perhaps he could do something about that?  He'd have to think on it.  In any case, having a proper Lord's Tower was higher priority than he had realized. 

"So..."

He was broken from his thoughts as Puffy drew his attention once more.

"Our settlement is going to need a name, you know?"

"Hm.  I hadn't thought about it, but you are correct.  Something that speaks to its future, I think..."





The trio made their way through the gap in the ice wall and arrived back at camp, where they were greeted by a cheer from the assembled ponies.  A group from the digging contingent approached them from the pillar, where they had been resting cloakless.  The lead pony, one with a blue coat and dark gray mane, nodded with some nervousness.  "Lord Ironblood. Forge Bellows. -"

"Puffy!"

"- Plump Helmet.  We've made progress.  The fungal growth chamber is ready for your inspection, and we've begun mining out the ores you raised to the surface, Lord."

"Good.  What is your name, pony?"

"Um...Granite Batholith."

"Mm.  A sturdy name.  Lead the way, Granite Batholith."

The pony nodded and turned, beginning to walk towards the downward-sloping entrance.  As they did, Forgath noticed something odd - a marking marring the blue fur on her flanks.  A step to the side let him see it more clearly as they walked along - a jutting piece of stone, like the peak of a mountain, with an orange flame-like pattern in the center.  He dropped back a bit to walk beside Puffy, speaking quietly.

"That mark on Granite Batholith's haunch.  What is that?"

"Huh?"

"The...mountain-design.  Is it paint or dye of some sort?"

"Oh!  No; it's a cutie-mark.  Everypony gets one when they learn what their talent is."

"How?"

"They appear by magic when the time is right."

"...Really?"

"Yep!  look!  Mine's a pair of bellows!"

He looked; it was.  "Oh.  So before we left, when you said that one of the ponies had a mushroom cutie-mark..."  Puffy pointed towards Plump Helmet, who had moved up to talk details with Granite.  Indeed, amid the brown fur of his hip was the image of a rounded purple mushroom with a long cap. "...Huh.  That's strange."

"Nope; perfectly normal."

Forgath sighed internally, also resolving that he would abbreviate the name for those icons to "marks" from then on.  The aesthetic issues with these ponies ran deeper than he originally suspected.

Descending the slightly-slick stone ramp led them down into a chamber hewn from the stone.  It seemed the diggers had done a good job; a large central area was dug out with a few pillars remaining for extra stability, while nubs forming the start of tunnels branched off from the central room to reveal veins of black, iron-bearing ore.  The ground of the chamber had been strewn with dirt - apparently the wanderers had found patches of soil beneath the ice and brought it back by the bagful.  Thus it was that Plump Helmet now had several plots to work with.

Indeed, Plump was so very pleased with this discovery that he let out a rather high pitched noise, grabbed Granite Batholith up in a shaggy hug, and nearly skipped around the room to take it all in.  Once he'd observed all they had for him, he declared, "it's perfect!" and immediately set to planting.  Forgath was slightly concerned by the burst of excitement, but shook his head and let the stallion be; a minion that wanted to do their job was a treasure if they did it well.

Turning to Granite, he gestured towards the surroundings. "It seems he's well-pleased, and so am I.  Are you and your miners going to have any trouble continuing to dig out the ore?"

"No my lord; whatever you did, the ore is close to the surface and easy to get at - and I've never seen these sorts of veins of hematite inside basalt."

"Good, though it won't last.  Pairs will survey further locations through the valley and nearby mountains.  We need a sense of what stones we have access to.  My magic can draw iron at cost, but mining and quarrying will be necessary."

"We will start on it right away, Lord."

"Very good.  Continue to lead the miners if you are capable."

"I am!"

"Then I will trust you to divide up the labor.  Report to me regularly."

Granite nodded, and dashed outside to share the news with the rest of her workers.  Forgath nodding to himself, making his way back up and out into air.  A glance upward revealed another light snowfall had begun.  A look around saw ponies beginning to use the stone already dug out to plan out further structures - he would have to have a word with whichever pony fancied himself an architect.

"Puffy."

"Yes, Lord Ironblood?"

"I have a task for you."

"Heh, I guess a mare's work is never done."  She wore a little smirk as she looked up at him.

"I - wait, a mare?"

"Yes?"

"You are a mare?"

"Of course I am!  You didn't know?"

"How could I tell?"

"You didn't notice that I was smaller than Plump Helmet and the rest of the stallions?  That my voice was higher?"

"I thought you might be young."

"She is!"  A passing pony ventured their note, on the way to get supplies to cook.

"That's beside the point!  What about the shape of my muzzle?"  A green hoof here indicated a rounded green snoot.

"What...about the shape of your muzzle?"

"Wha...Lord Ironblood, mares tend to have rounded muzzles while stallions have blockier muzzles.  Haven't you ever seen ponies before?"

"Not ponies like you."

"...Really?  But we're really common on this continent!  I think..."

"I'm not of this world, Puffy."

"...Oh.  Ooooh."

"And I have a second task for you.  I want you to tell me about you ponies, in more detail."

"Yeah, sure; I can do that."

"Good.  Though first there is the other matter to attend to.  Gather the rest of my minions; they will all hear this, and their tasks can wait."  

Forgath began striding towards the pillar, still burning dark in the center of the clearing.  He gathered several pieces of ferrous ore on his way there, a hand moving back and forth across them as he called upon his magic.  While it may not be useful on the large scale, here his touch was fine enough that he could refine, pulling the iron together and stripping the impurities.  Soon he knew they would have to put together smelteries once they had the stone or clay, soon the blast furnaces would glow and the hammers would ring.  But he would strike the first blows now.

Ponies began to gather as he approached the pillar.  The metallurgy tools had already been left nearby, and so it it was that he drew a small portion of the pillar out, coaxing the flame to billow and swirl around the iron bloom he had forced together, letting it heat until it neared melting before backing off, small bursts of magic and hammer blows knocking off bits of dross as he worked it.  Soon, the entire settlement had arrived and watched him work in silence.  Some of them had experience in metal craft, but none had seen a biped do it, much less their Lord.  Once his magic and the flame had worked the iron into a purer form, a red-glowing bloom, he transferred it to the anvil and began to beat it into shape, first merely pressing it together, folding and mixing the wrought iron, before moving it about the horn of the anvil as he landed further blows.

Little by little, it took on its final form, quenched and returned to the heat and beaten just that much closer.  A helm came to be, not the sort of all-concealing version he wore but a simpler one - designed for pony-heads.  When he deemed it good enough, he quenched it once more, burned off the remaining water, and set the helmet atop the anvil to stare empty at the assembled ponies.

"I promised that you would be warm, and you are.  I promised you would be protected, and you will be.  I will forge for you armor and arms, and you will serve me well.  Now, I have need of you, those among you who are strong and brave enough to fight.  Become my first warriors and scouts, to protect the others and to find threats and boons for our new settlement.  I will teach you what you need, be it how to fight or how to pass unseen.  Those of you who wish to be the shield and sword and eyes of the settlement, remain after all are dismissed."  The ponies exchanged various glances among themselves; fear still hung over these escaped slaves, but the spark that had been set mere hours ago had grown, and several eyes already glinted with the hint of flame.

Forgath lifted the forge hammer, letting its crude surface shine in the ruby light of the pillar behind him. "This is no longer a mere camp, and so it needs a name.  A name that speaks to its purpose and future. And so..."  He raised the hammer high in display. "Let it be known as Ironforge.  It will be here that we forge our futures, and it is here you serve Lord Ironblood.  Now, you are dismissed; go about your tasks but take the rest you need; you are no good to me frozen and starved.  Rationing will be lifted with the first crop of mushrooms."

There was much mumbling, but here he turned his gaze upon Plump Helmet. "How long?"

The shaggy pony started, before speaking up loudly.  "Half a week; we have plenty of spawn."

"Half a week, and then we eat our fill."

A weak cheer went up from the crowd; it hadn't sunk in with everyone, and some ponies had begun to get up once he said they were dismissed.  Conversation broke out, the chatter of many pony voices filling the area as the most of their number began to file out, leaving perhaps a half-dozen as the first crop of warriors and scouts.  Among those, Puffy sat stiff-backed, a faint heat in her cheeks.  One of the others who remained, a mare with yellow fur, leaned over to whisper into her ear.

"Did...did he just name this place after you?"
> He Maintains Standards of Dress (997 AB)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forgath was enjoying a relaxing morning in the Tower of Despair.  He had awoken with the sun, completed his morning contemplation and ablution, and breakfast had arrived just on time.  He sat at the dining table with a book and ate, listening with a little smile for the sounds of his daughters rousing themselves and beginning their own routines.  He knew that a certain pink filly had not gone to bed on time last night, and was curious to see just how late she would make herself.

The answer, as it turned out, was about fifteen minutes.

Forgath chuckled to himself upon hearing a dismayed squeak from her room, followed by frantic hoofsteps and the start of what would be a very short shower.  Fillies would be fillies, he supposed.  He was no stranger to late nights and sleep lost to study, but he also knew that she would learn the value of sleep better this way.  Or setting an alarm - wondrous things could be done with clockwork these days.

His thoughts became nostalgic as he made his way through his eggs and toast; he realized that alarm clocks weren't tremendously new, but he still couldn't help but think of them that way.  Perhaps it was a sign that he was growing old?  He was on his second millennium after all...

Such thoughts were distracting, so much so that when his eldest daughter came (metaphorically) flying out of her bedroom, dressed and ready to go, he almost made a terrible mistake.  She skidded her way up to the table with her blonde mane fluttering, gobbled up a few bites of eggs, and snatched up a slice of toast in her mouth to eat on the way;   the moment it was secure she bolted for the door with little more than a muffled "Hi Dad!  Bye Dad!" which got a hum in reply.  But that's when he noticed it.

"Tourmaline Trillion Torque, exactly what are you wearing?"

The pink pony froze before the door at the use of her full name, faster than any ice spell could manage.  She slowly turned towards him, smiling what she hoped was an innocent smile as she transferred her toast to a hoof to speak.  "Um...a skirt and a blouse?  It's no big deal, really."

"Mmmhm.  And what sort of skirt is it, exactly?"  A pair of heavy arms crossed over a chain-clad chest.

"A...plaid one?"

"Exactly!  Lin, what happened to the black skirt I got you for your birthday?"

"Daaad, no one's wearing black right now; it's going out of style!"

"Blasphemy.  Black never goes out of style."  

"I'm sure you think so, but plaid is in right now; it's bright and peppy."

"'Bright and peppy' is not proper for a dark lady.  And besides, that skirt is far too short of a filly of your age."

"But Dad, this is what everyone else is wearing right now!  There's even talk about making it a school uniform, like what they have in Canterlot!"

"Not on my watch!  That's absolutely inappropriate for a secondary-school uniform.  And are those pleats?"

"So what?  Lots of skirts have pleats.  And it's called middle-school."  She turned slightly, as if hoping to move the skirt out of view.

"Cheerleader skirts have pleats, not respectable skirts.  No, you're going to have to go change."

"W-what?  But I'm probably already going to be late!  And...and besides, this is fine!"

"You have an image to uphold, and that is not it."

"Well maybe I don't want that image; I want to fit in!"

"But you used to love it!  Remember a few years ago, when you dressed in black all the time?  Practiced your laugh?  Started calling yourself "Schorl"?   You even darkened your mane.  It was so cu-...villainous and threatening; quite becoming for a young lady."  He heaved a little nostalgic sigh, getting a frown from her in the process.  "You were taking after me so closely; you hung on my every word.  What happened to all that?"

"It was just a phase, Dad."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Some of us want to grow up."

"Some of us grew up a long time ago.  Now go change."

"Uuuugh!  I can't believe this..."  She made her way back to her room with much grumbling and toast-munching.  It warmed Forgath's heart to see, and he smiled to himself as he turned back to his reading.

Before she could return, her younger sister made her own way out and over to the table with a wide yawn.  Sitting down and joining her father, she began to eat.  She looked better than she had been the last few days; a childhood pox had swept through the ranks of her second grade class and she still sported little red blisters all across the skin of her wings, but at least she could fold them comfortably this morning. Hopefully, it would make its way out of her system in another week, and until then Forgath could take the opportunity to dote on her.  After all, it was quite clear that he wouldn't have such opportunities forever.

He gave her enough time to stop looking quite so bleary-eyed - orange juice worked wonders for waking up thestrals - before setting aside his reading and giving her a warm smile. "Morning, sweetie."

"Morning, Daddy."  Still groggy, but at least speaking.

"Are you feeling alright?"

A nod, and her wings spread and refolded.  "Mmmmhm.  They don't itch anymore.  Can I go back to school?"

"No, not while you're still contagious; it will be another week or so."

"Awwww....but I'm gonna miss Stiletto's birthday party."  A sad little hoof pushed a sad little fork across her plate.

"It's unfortunate, but you don't want to get her sick as a birthday gift, do you?"

"....No."

"Don't worry; we can send your friend a gift for the party, that way she'll know you didn't forget her."

"Okay."

Before Forgath could say more, a grumbling pink pony made her way through the room and towards the door on stomping hooves, now clad in a long black skirt (though having retained her white blouse).  "I'm leaving."

"Have a good day, s-"  A slam cut off whatever pet name he was going to use; out the door and galloping away she went, hoping she wouldn't be late.

Silence reigned for a few moments, before the little foal gave her father a surprisingly flat look. "You know she's got her plaid skirt in her saddlebag, right?"

"Probably."

"You're gonna let her get away with it?"

"She's at that rebellious time; it's good she gets it out of her system now."

"That's dumb.  She's bein' dumb."

"As you will be when you get to her age."

"Nuh-uh!"

Forgath chuckled, reaching over to playfully ruffle her mane and ears, getting an indignant squeak and a pout from his daughter.  She ducked back, brushing blue-green hair out of her eyes as she fixed him with as fierce a puffy-cheeked glare as she could manage.

"Finish your breakfast, Shady, and then we'll play.  I'll teach you chess."

The thestral continued to pout, mumbling through a bite of eggs, "Already know how to play chess...."

"I'll teach you to beat your sister at chess."

Little ears perked with temptation, but soon flattened again.  "Mmmph.  Chess is booooring.  Can we play something else?"

"What would you like to play?"  Forgath replaced the ribbon in his book and shut it, rising to collect the plates and placing them upon the tray to be returned to the kitchens by a servant.

"Hungry Hungry Hydra!"

Forgath held back a sigh.  He did not like that game.  "Alright; go on and get it."

She let loose a "Yaaay!"  and off she ran to the chest of games.

He shook his head with a smile; at least she was starting to feel better, that's what really mattered.  For that, he could endure an annoyingly clattery game or two.
> He Teaches Magic (4 BNM)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Six years had passed.  Six years since Forgath had arrived in this new world.  Six years since he had collected his first batch of minions and turned their dying camp into a thriving settlement - and now into a proud fort-town.  The original, simple ice shelters had been replaced with firm stone buildings.  The open rocky area around the pillar of flame had been expanded into a carved plaza with the pillar as its centerpiece.  The walls had been pushed back, allowing for more construction within their edifice.  In addition, they had been remade as stone with iron bracing and rendered nearly unclimbable by a smooth coating of ice.  And towards the northern end of the wall, well outside the plaza, loomed the Tower of Despair.

Fifteen stories and a rooftop crowned with a parapet of spikes, built of dark stone and dark iron, it stood every bit the testament to his might that Forgath had desired.  Within its dread walls was the seat of power for the growing town; not merely the chambers and personal forges of Forgath himself, but the administrative center from which he could command the forces and workings of the city, aided by his trusted advisors and a small-yet-growing series of scribes, record keepers and the like.  The first three floors of the tower had already been taken over by rooms filled with stone desks, uncomfortable chairs, and the smell of ink.

It was within one such third-floor room that Forgath sat behind a desk, writing in black ink upon paper formed from mushroom pulp.  It was perhaps not fine paper; Forgath yearned for vellum, but as with meat the ponies turned out to have little taste for parchment.  Still, it could carry ink and so the room around him held shelves of the simple paper, both free and bound.  Forgath thought as he wrote, carefully considering how much to write and how to hide what he meant.  In the fine tradition of mages across the apparent multiverse, he was writing notes - and writing them so that no one uninitiated would be able to understand.  Knowledge was a form of power; important to give to your allies, essential to keep from your enemies.

"Forgy?  Fooooorgy?"

Six years had passed.  Much had changed.

"Forgath, are you in here?"

One thing clearly hadn't.

The dark lord slowly stacked his papers after making sure the ink was dry.  Finished, he tied then together in a sheaf and nestled the stack in a corner of a shelf before finally calling out, "In here, Forge Bellows."

The sound of hoofsteps approached, and soon the iron door swung inward with a creak and the onrushing smell of snow.  A pink mane and the green mare it was attached to made their way into the room; the latter was wrapped in a thick robe that the former had been freed of while a pair of snow goggles bounced on a cord around the mare's neck. "There you are!  How many times do I have to tell you to call me Puffy, huh?"

Forgath slowly crossed his arms, the faint glowing red of his eyes narrowing behind his visor.  His armor had recently been polished and had had its enameling redone; a flame-like red and black mottling starting at the ends of his limbs gradually faded to the glossy black of his chest piece.  A long black cape trailed behind him, a recent gift of one of his minions.  He knew he cut an intimidating and glorious visage, truly the image all overlords should aspire to.

Despite all that, Puffy merely gave a snort. "Okay, fine; Lord Ironblood."

"Good.  Now then, what news do you bring, Puffy?"

"Our scouts found another batch, and they've got quite the story.  You're gonna want to hear this yourself."

"Very well.  I had just finished here; lead on."

"As usual."  She nodded, and turned to do just that.  She got a nod from the armored pony that had been seated at the door to the study, who set off to attend to other duties once Puffy relieved him.

The pair made their way down to the first floor and left through the twin sets of iron doors, descending the entry ramp and heading towards the center of town.  As they walked, numerous ponies paused to bow to Forgath or waved in passing as they went about their business.  While he did not respond with more than faint nods, it brought a smile to his hidden, scarred lips to see the proper submission of his minions.  As to the waves...well, happy and loyal minions worked harder; it was a sign of the growing power of their city, and he would not begrudge them that.  Even if they were "perkier" than the minions that served him before he arrived in this world.  Six years had only resolved some of the aesthetic issues.

The more distant streets from the pillar were formed of rough cobblestone cut into pentagons and hexagons and other rounded shapes, the gaps filled with ice rather than dirt - dirt was too precious for that.  The pillar itself was still a haven of warmth, and small fragments of it could be found in the hearths of most occupied buildings - though ponies much preferred daylight and lighter flames for illumination.  Without a source of tallow candles were hard to come by, so enchanted crystals and experiments with plant- and fungus-based waxes had to suffice.  The shades of dim red balefire, warm yellow candlelight, and pale blue magelight were especially notable as Forgath and Puffy made their way through the streets; it was noontime, but the sky was an ashen grey and snow slowly fell.  The homes and shops they passed were lit more brightly from within than from without, and their windows shone faintly across streets and into alleys.  Forgath found the splashes of color along the grey stone to be pleasing, almost festive, but he wouldn't say that aloud.

After all, the same could be said of the ponies, and "festive" was absolutely not the way he was going to describe his minions in an arctic environment, no indeed.

The streets of the growing town were focused on six major roads leading from central plaza like the spokes of a wheel; the overlord and his pink-maned escort made their way along the northernmost of the six, which ran straight from the plaza to the Tower of Despair itself.  Forgath had named it "The Path of Despair" in keeping with the theme, though he was well aware that most of the population called it "Mane Street" instead.  He was also aware of exactly how they spelled that name; six years was plenty of time for him to notice that these ponies had an obsession with equine puns.  Were he to speak openly, Forgath would say that he didn't particularly mind them; while he had no real fondness for puns himself, it was far from the most annoying trait among his minions, past and present.

Fish-people.  Never again.

Forgath suppressed a wince at the thought.  In an effort to once more forget about them he turned his attention to the plaza ahead.  The heat of the pillar was notable as the pair entered the carved circular area, and its pull on Forgath's magic lingered on the edge of perception.  It was another reminder that he really should move making it self-sustaining up on his list of projects.  Around the edge of the ring rested a series of shops, workplaces, and even an eatery grown out of one of the earlier mess halls.  Crystal ponies milled about the plaza uncloaked; the magic of the pillar made all but the very middle comfortably warm, and left only the faintest signs of ice creeping over the near faces of the surrounding buildings, tucked into cracks and out of the direct heat. The snow didn't linger in the plaza; the constant melt ran through carved channels into a series of drains, which in turn led to a reservoir beneath the surface, which in turn filled a pillar-powered distillation apparatus, which in turn provided fresh water for mushrooms and ponies alike.

A huddled group of ponies sat in the center of the plaza, where the heat from the pillar was more pronounced.  They had blankets wrapped around them and bowls of mushroom soup to help warm them up.  They were a ragged bunch, unkempt, carrying few possessions; even their fur seemed pale and limp - and yet there was a hint of something in their eyes that Forgath liked.  They were watched over by a sextet of mixed guards and scouts who spoke occasionally to those nearest, offering gentle encouragement.  Not the most imposing way of carrying out their duties, but these were soon-to-be-minions, not prisoners.

As he and Puffy made their approach, Forgath quickened his pace slightly, approaching close enough to her that he could speak without being overheard.  "They've already been given the preliminary talk?"

"They have, Lord Ironblood; they're ready for you"

"Good.  Then it is time they learned their place."

Six years had passed, and over those six years the scouts had been busy.  King Sombra's Crystal Empire was a powerful city-state ruled by a dark lord who, from what Forgath had been told, had the right idea in terms of style and the wrong idea in terms of rulership.  A city of slaves, a city of unrest - a city of escapees-to-be.  Every few months some small band of ponies would reach their breaking point, hatch a plan, and find a way to flee into the snow and ice.  And if they were lucky, they would be found by the scouts of Ironforge and led to safe harbor as Forgath's minions.  Even protected by Forgath's arts the scouts dared not roam too close to the Empire from which they escaped, but they scoured the lands surrounding their growing fortress.

Forgath strode purposefully across the plaza, the sharp clip of armored boots on stone easily heard over the faint rushing sound of the pillar itself.  All talk among the refugees slowly came to a stop as one after another took notice of the imposing bipedal form approaching.  They may have been prepared by the guard, but the difference between being told what to expect and actually seeing it rendered them speechless.  He stood between the group and the pillar, its light silhouetting him.  The dark flames complimented the pattern of his armor, and the light shining from behind made the red glow of his eyes all the more distinct.  He watched as some of them cringed back with a certain satisfaction; it was good to know he still made the right first impression.  And so, stretching out an open gauntlet to one side, he began.

"Ponies of the Crystal Empire, former slaves of Sombra, be welcome."

This got several blinks, from the crowd, a portion of the fear abating.

"You broke your bonds and set off to make your own fate - laudable behavior.  Your trek has been hard; you have been cold and tired and hungry.  And yet you pressed forward into the unknown, all in hopes of finding something better.  Sombra could not hold you.  The ice did not defeat you.  And now, you are given an opportunity."  

As he spoke, turning his palms up on either side, he took in their reactions.  The fear was a good start, yes, but it was not all he needed from them.  He watched for those hints of something more, of that spark that drove them onward.  And there it was - the faintest motes of hope, or pride, muffled as it might be.

"This is Ironforge, and it is mine.  All who dwell within it are my precious minions, and together we have built all you have seen and more.  The food you've eaten was grown here, the buildings quarried from the stone of the valley.  My magic fortifies the city, but it is will - mine and my minions' - that has made it thrive.  They were once like you; cold, starving, and exhausted; ragged refugees.  But now, united under my rule, Ironforge grows."

He stretched a hand toward them, angled vertically and open, fingers bent as if ready to grip a foreleg.  "Join me.  Let your wandering in the cold come to an end.  Make your homes here, and make Ironforge better for your talents.  Join me, not as slaves to be wrung for every drop of sweat and blood, but as my minions, free to make for yourselves a future of your own desiring."  He clenched his fist, drawing it back near his chest.  "Follow my laws and obey my decree, and you will be free to advance, free to learn, free to make use of your talents.  Help raise Ironforge to glory, and you shall be rewarded."

They watched with rapt attention, and he could see the growing desire within.  It was plain on the faces of some - already picturing the glories they could have in his service, no doubt.  He inclined his head towards them in a brief nod of acknowledgement; he knew they would be his.

"Those who pledge their loyalty are free to begin immediately; we shall find lodging for you, provide you with necessities, and learn of your interests and talents so you may best make use of them.  Artisans will be provided workspace and resources.  Farmers will be provided seed and soil.  Those who would learn a craft will be apprenticed.  And any with a talent for numbers or learning will be provided an opportunity to use them - we have need of clerks and scholars and merchants."  While coin had been minted for scant months, and mostly exchanged for luxuries, the notion of markets was nothing new to anyone in Ironforge.  True, they had few ponies who were exclusively merchants as yet, but it was a matter of time.

"The rest of you are welcome to stay until you've made up your mind.  All of you will be provided room and board within the boarding houses, and you will be free to move about the town with guards in escort.  If you decide not to stay, you will be sent forth with new clothes and provisions, though I doubt the ice will make the same offer I have."

One pony, a red-coated mare, spoke up a mere moment after he had finished.  "That's no choice at all.  I don't know about this 'minion' thing, but if it means food, hearth, and a chance to practice my art?  Count me in."  Forgath nodded, and noticed that her mark was a round-headed brush of some kind, tipped with black.  Painting?  Calligraphy?  He could surely find a use for such things.

"Brave enough to speak?  Good.  What is your name?"

"Fine Line."

"Fitting.  Fine Line, know me as your Lord and prosper."

"And if I do, what's to say you won't make me a slave again?"

There was a hissed whisper from a pony nearby, a blue stallion, who glanced nervously between the guards, Forgath, and Fine Line.  Fine Line's reply was just loud enough for Forgath to pick out: "I want to hear it from him, not them."  

She fixed her attention expectantly on Forgath, whose eyes narrowed behind his visor. "Because I don't want slaves.  I want loyal, dedicated, skilled minions."

The mare held his gaze, though her ears folded back at his tone.  She glanced towards a few of the guards and scouts, who nodded encouragingly, before turning her attention back to Forgath.  "Alright, it will do."

"Alright...?"  Forgath's arms crossed over his chest.

"...Lord Forgath?"

"Very good."  He relaxed his pose, sweeping a hand before the rest. "Anyone else?"

Many were reluctant, but several more pledged their loyalty - and with less reservation than Fine Line had.  When it seemed like no more were forthcoming Forgath nodded once again.

"One last thing before you are dismissed.  I am told you have news of the Crystal Empire.  Tell me."

The group, new minions and not-yet-minions alike, exchanged looks with each other.  Ears folded, worried little gazes sought out others, until a blue mare looked up to him and answered, hooves quivering around her bowl of soup. "It's...it's gone."

"...Gone?"  Forgath was still, only a little surprise slipping into his voice.

"Gone, Lord.  When we made our escape, we headed east, towards the Kay Range. We reached the pass before night fell, but when we turned back we saw an army arriving, flying Equestrian banners."

"Equestria.  The growing Kingdom to the south, with ties to the Empire, ruled by two princesses.  They marched upon Sombra?"

"Yes, my lord.  We saw two ponies...probably those princesses, doing battle with him with their magic.  When they were done, the whole city vanished like snow blown to the wind!  We didn't see any sign of Sombra either, but we didn't stay to look."

"Vanished.  What is your name, my minion?"

"Crystal Rose, sir."

"And can the rest of you corroborate this story?"

Amid a collective nodding among the group, one of the scouts stepped forward. "Lord Ironblood, when we found the refugees we sent a group of our quickest scouts to the pass they mention in relay; we got word back from the relay chain just as we were reaching Ironforge.  We can confirm their story; the Crystal Empire is gone, entirely missing."

"Hm.   That's...fascinating.  Anything else they had to report?"

"Signs of zinc deposits in the pass itself, but nothing more related to the city.  The Equestrian forces had already left, though the small detail remains watching and waiting for your orders."

"Very well.  Send resupply enough to sustain the relay for two weeks.  No fewer than three ponies at any point.  Tell them also to expect a prospector and small guard detail to confirm the ore and begin construction on a new camp.  Once the supplies are moving, give the ore report to Granite Batholith; she will assign a prospector."

"Yes, my lord.  Anything further?"

"No; go forth."

The scout gave a brief salute before walking off to attend to his given tasks, and Forgath turned his attention to the remaining scouts and guard detail. "Guards, help the newcomers settle in as usual.  Scouts, you may aid them or rest for the remainder of the day."  He turned once more, casting his gaze across the refugees.  "As for you, be welcome.  Crystal Rose, thank you for your report."

The poor mare squeaked a reply, almost dropping her soup.  Forgath was met with salutes from his guards and scouts, and returned a nod before moving to walk away, Puffy falling into step beside him.

He waited until they were far enough across the plaza before speaking up.  "I think that went well."

"Indeed, Lord Ironblood; they looked like a good bunch."

"And likely the last."

"If the Empire is gone?  Yeah, that's it.  The population is going to have to grow the old-fashioned way."

Forgath let out a dry huff of breath, but even that was enough to get a smile from Puffy; she'd had six years to get used to his sense of humor.

"Speaking of which..."  He looked down at the mare before continuing. "How is the count?"

"Pretty good; the number of couples keeps growing, and we've had two more births in the last week; that brings the total to four-hundred and twenty-five, including the forty-two children and infants.  Even without more refugees we should be set to hit five-hundred sometime next year.  Things are stable, more couples are forming, and most couples are going to have multiple foals."

"Very good.  Are the incentives working?"

"Yes, Lord; between that and the stability there's little reluctance to start families left."

"Then we must plan for the next expansion.  And one other thing."

They arrived back at the Tower, and Forgath lead the way to the study he'd been in earlier.  Forgath moved towards one of the shelves with Puffy in tow, removing a gauntlet to leaf through the sheets of mushroom paper until he found what he was looking for.  He withdrew a single sheet and held it out for Puffy to see.

"I would like you to gather these minions, and bring them to the Tower of Despair.  There is a matter I must speak with them about."

Puffy looked down the list of some two-dozen names carefully.  "Hmmm....mostly ponies from the first year or so...hey, I'm on this list!"

"Yes you are."

"So what are we gonna talk about?"

"You'll find out with the rest of them."

Puffy's cheeks puffed out a little and she squinted suspiciously as she looked up at him. "Is this one of those 'hooray it's a party' surprises, or more of the 'and if you want the antidote you'll do what I say' surprises?"

Forgath laughed aloud, crossing his arms as he looked down at the pony. "Forge Bellows, when did you become such a cynic?  What makes you think I've ever poisoned partygoers before?"

Puffy focused all the sarcasm in her body into a single lifted eyebrow.  It got another chuckle from Forgath.

"You're not in trouble; you'll like this.  Go on; gather them up."

She huffed, before trotting her way from the room with a little smile. "The things I put up with..."

Forgath chuckled anew at that, before doffing his other gauntlet and gathering up more papers, as well as a fresh jar of ink.  He still had a few things to prepare before they arrived.





In relatively short order the selected ponies had assembled; a collection of mares and stallions that included Puffy, Granite Batholith, Plump Helmet, and several other guards and leaders among his minions.  Forgath had brought them to a room in the upper levels of the Tower, one he usually reserved for magical experimentation and thus was warded to the extent of his ability.  A set of chairs had been brought in and arranged in a half-circle, facing one end of the room were Forgath stood in front of a slate chalkboard near a small bucket of chalk fragments.

He walked forward towards the center of the half-circle, casting his gaze over his ponies.  They waited expectantly; in contrast to the ponies Forgath spoke to earlier, their pride and ambition shown bright.  Puffy had done much to assure them that this meeting was something good, and most had been with Forgath for over five years now.  With that thought in mind, he began.

"You ponies have proven yourselves worthy and loyal minions; I think it's time that I teach you."

"Teach us...what, Lord?"  A stallion spoke up from the middle of the arc.

"I shall teach you how to bend the world to your will.  I shall teach you how to commune with those things beyond mortal ken.  You shall learn my sorcerous ways and be empowered.  I shall teach you of magic."  Forgath stretched his arms out to either side, flames lighting in his palms in a properly dramatic fashion.  The ponies looked on with awe.  

Or perhaps it was just confusion.

"...how?"  A different one, a mare this time.

"What?"

"How are you gonna teach us magic?"

"...Through careful tutelage, as I would have learned had I had a teacher."

"No, I mean...we don't have horns?"

"And?"

"How...how are we supposed to do magic without horns?"

Forgath paused, cocking his hidden head. "Why would horns matter?"

"Well...Unicorns use magic, not crystal ponies."

"Unicorns?  Horned ponies?"

"That's right," another spoke up, a bit further to the side. "Some of the Equestrians are unicorns.  They can do magic because they have horns."

"I see.  Well, do you see a horn upon me?"

That gave his minions pause.  The ponies looked over Forgath's form, as if for the first time.  Eventually, Puffy ventured, "It could be under your armor?" before she was shushed by the nearest mare.

Forgath continued, ignoring the comment.  "I've known magi with extra eyes or horns or things stranger still, but never any that needed a horn.  Why should you?"

The group of ponies wore looks of confusion, consternation, and the occasional blank stare of comprehension.  Knowing the longer he waited the sooner somepony would try to answer the rhetorical question, Forgath pressed on.

"Today, I shall explain to you simple magic theory, and we will see if you can indeed 'do magic'."

He walked around the inside of the arc, passing out a small gemstone to each pony. "Magic is power.  It is part of the world yet apart from the world.  It springs up from all around us, and within.  All that lives carries a spark of magic, and everything that has a will, that has emotion, can call it forth.  There are different kinds of magic, and different forms it can be shaped into.  These gems carry an enchantment, a portion of magic bound to the gems that will do something specific.  In this case, they will take in ambient magic and glow."

"You will note that none of them are presently glowing.  That is because unlike the magelight gems in your homes, the form is weak; these gather next to nothing from the air and earth around them.  But you can change this."  He makes his way back to the front of the room, crossing his arms before him.  "All of you carry magic.  In fact, you ponies have more innate magic than most of my former minions. I believe you express it naturally in many ways, such as in your marks, but I suspect you can learn to bring it forth."

"This is your first lesson: you will hold the gems and fill them with your magic by focusing your will and emotion.  The sharper your focus or the stronger your feeling, the more of your magic you expose to the gem and the brighter it will glow.  I want you to try on your own first, and I will teach you techniques to help once you've made an attempt.  Once more, all you must do is focus your will or emotion upon the gem.  Begin."

He watched as the ponies got to work, each staring at the gem held in their hoof.  Some squinted, as if to manually narrow their focus.  Other glowered.  Orange tongues stuck out, ears folded, tails twitched, and Forgath had to suppress a sigh at their antics.  But little by little, a few sparks appeared, faint glowing lights deep within gems.  He waited for one to brighten enough for the neighboring ponies to notice before striding over.

"Very good, Prism Cut, very good.  I expected no less from someone with an affinity for gems.  Now, let us continue; can you tell us what you were thinking to make the gem glow?"





The class continued; Forgath moved from pony to pony, giving advice, having those that found success speak to the group at large, coaxing them forward until soon each could focus their internal mana well enough to cause their gems to shine bright.  Some had done better than others, but all eventually were able to do it, much to their excitement and surprise.  He elaborated a bit further upon the theory, sticking to the basics and connecting it to what they were doing, occasionally referencing notes he left on a desk to one side.

In what seemed like no time at all, the first class had finished.  The ponies had been dismissed, each taking with them one of the practice gems and a homework assignment: a few charged shards to experiment with moving magic from place to place.  One pony had stayed behind.

"Lord Ironblood?"

"Yes, Puffy?"

"There's...something I want to talk to you about."

The dark lord made his way around the room, straightening things and tucking away his notes.  "Go on."

"We've known each other for a while, right?"

Forgath paused.  There was something about those words, spoken as they were, that struck him as something he should be concerned about.  Rather than finishing tying the sheaf he turned his full attention to her. "Yes.  about six years now, ever since my arrival and the founding."

Puffy nodded, shuffling a forehoof against the stone floor. "And we've done a lot together, haven't we?"

A tiny voice within that Forgath hadn't heard since his boyhood, ages and ages ago, began to panic.  "Yes, you've been my most loyal and trustworthy minion over all these years.  You've taught me much about ponies and been instrumental in the rise of Ironforge."

A faint blush filtered through the green fur of her cheeks - surely owing to the high praise of her Lord, of course.  She smiled up at him and nodded. "Y-yeah, exactly!  And we've gotten to know each other better too..."

The little voice grew louder.  "That's...probably fair to say..."

Puffy's head tilted as she was briefly lost in thought. "We fought centipedes, we got the blast furnaces going, we forged weapons and armor together, I taught you that trick with the anvil..."

"And I helped you refine your technique."

"Yeah!  I've...I've enjoyed our conversations, and our forging."  Her smile widened, her eyes again focused upon Forgath's own.

The little voice rallied support; Forgath began to feel clammy within his gauntlets as the faintest hint of his growing fear reached the surface.  "It...has been...nice..."

"I think I'd like to get to know you better."

"Forge Bellows, -"

"Puffy."

"...Puffy.  Are you..."

"Yeah.  Yeah I am.  I would like to court you, Forgath."

The little voice was right!  Forgath took a step back without thinking, his more practical instincts spurred into action.  His gaze searched the room, focused anywhere but upon the hopeful mare before him.  "Puffy, I..."

"Yes?"

"I...While I admire your ambition, I don't think that would work..."

Green ears slowly flattened back. "What do you mean?"

He grasped at what he knew, the things more familiar, a refuge in this unexpected storm. "It's not a bad attempt; it's not my style to try to get power through seduction, but -"

"It's not about trying to gain power!"  She frowned, ears fully flattened by now.

"It's...it's not?" 

"No!  I like you, Forgath; you saved us, and despite the spiky helmets and dark fires and evil towers you've been good to us.  There's more to you than just Lord Ironblood.   I want to get to know you better, to see more of you."

"Puffy, I...I'm flattered, but..."

"But what?"

A gauntleted hand made a slow circle in the air as he searched for the right words.  "Well I'm just not...ah...not interested in...you know..."

"Oh.  Oooh, oh goodness, you're not into mares!"  A green hoof met green face.

Forgath sighed his relief, and the little voice finally shut up; she understood!  "Yes. That's it exactly.  You're comely and you're skilled; you have great potential and I wasn't flattering when I said you were instrumental in the growth of Ironforge.  You're a precious minion and I'm sure any stallion would be lucky to have you.  But I'm...well...I'm not."

"...attracted to mares.  It's okay; I'm so sorry, I should have known."  She gave him an exceptionally sheepish smile.

Forgath nodded.  "It...seemed obvious to me; I'm not sure why...?"

Puffy shook her head, waving a hoof.  If anything, her blush seemed to have deepened. "No, it's my fault.  Horseapples, things have to be hard for you then."

That sounded like pity.  Forgath would not be pitied. "It's...really not so different; even before coming to this world, I didn't usually engage in..."

"No no, you don't want to talk about it; I get it.  Don't worry, this isn't gonna be weird, I'm still your most loyal minion; it's my job to help out."

"Ah...Yes, good.  Let's...keep doing that."

"Okay, I will!  Um...good...talking with you."  And with that, she hastily saw herself out, leaving only the door-muffled sound or receding hooves.

Forgath was left in silence.  He waited a few moments, trying to put his thoughts in order.  This...was not an issue he expected to deal with here, not when he was likely the only human in the whole world.  He shook his head; he could have handled that better.  He could hardly remember the last time he had been propositioned, and the last time he had been propositioned honestly, without some ulterior motive or power play or attempted murder?  It was almost novel.

He shook his head again, dismissing the faint warmth the thought brought with it.  Minions will be minions; romancing them never ended well, and romancing ponies worse still.  Sure, he was a dark lord and could do what he wanted, but he had no interest in that sort of thing.  The pleasures of the flesh in general were things he was more than willing to forego for power and glory, and being on a world without attractive people?  The decision practically made itself.

He finished gathering and tying up his papers and putting them away in his case, then made his way out and towards his Tower.  Darkness had fallen and the snow had only intensified.  The shadow cast by a distant peak against the underside of the clouds left a long stretch of violet between bands of red; auspicious colors if Forgath had ever seen them.  Trying to put the encounter with Puffy out of his mind (after all, these ponies were strange), he thought of the growth of the city.  With the recent arrivals and word of more births, he would soon find himself pushing the walls back yet again.  Or perhaps instead constructing the first walled leaf, leaving the established fort-town as the center of a growing city.

His boots crunched with each step through the snow, and as he made his way along the Path of Despair he caught the scent of bread baking; it seems the harvest of cave wheat had gone well.  With that included in their most recent find several months ago, Ironforge now had six kinds of underground crops growing in their farms and a modest greenhouse growing a smattering of other fruits and vegetables.  They had no orchards, but they were making preparations to cultivate a large, woody sort of mushroom called tower caps; between that and southern scouting, Ironforge would have lumber in short order.

Soon enough, he reached the Tower.  He continued to consider the future of the city and its expansion as he did his rounds, checking on the forges and the scribes.  With no outstanding issues, he retreated upstairs to unpack his notes and retire for the night.

Giving his guard a nod as they took up their position next to the door, Forgath entered his apartments.  After a pause in the foyer to check on a project, he went through his nightly routine.  All was normal until he opened the door to his bedroom.

There, on his bed, was a pony.  A familiar pony.

He was sprawled out almost lazily over the sheets, lying upon his side with his belly towards the door, and thus towards Forgath.  He wore nothing but his shaggy brown pelt, which must have been brushed into soft-looking curls, all the way down to his feathery, unshorn fetlocks.  His purple tail had been grown out longer than Forgath had remembered, and rested modestly across hip and belly.  

As Forgath arrived, Plump Helmet's ears perked and he lifted his head from the bed, his fuzzy front supported by his forelegs while his hindquarters stayed sprawled out. He gave his head a shake, sending his purple mane cascading along his neck as he turned his attention to the dark lord.  He fixed Forgath with an almost coy grin, framed by his long purple beard and mustache, and his eyes narrowed in a smoky, sultry expression.  

"Lord Ironblood," came the growly, gravely, masculine voice.  "I was told you needed my expertise in...growing things."  Saying as much, the flick of a purple tail revealed a demonstration of that particular skill.  Forgath suddenly had answers to several questions about ponies he had never thought to ask - though they came with a single new question about this particular pony's name.  

The newly-evident stallion tilted his head slowly, his coy smile growing into a smirk. "How may I serve you?"

Lord Forgath Ironblood stood in the doorway for several moments, his gaze held by the pony on his bed.  Slowly, he backed out, closed the door behind him, and left his apartments to seek a certain green pony.

A green pony who, it turns out, did not understand.
> He Extracts Information (AB 991)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The minotaur stood in the center of the room.  Of course, "stood" was a slightly generous term, as most of his weight was supported by pair of chains connected to thick shackles about his wrists.  He could relieve the weight on his wrists by stretching himself upward while standing as high on his hooves as he could, but otherwise he hung there.  He was a large bull, well-muscled and well-built, decidedly top-heavy.  His fur was natively a shaggy grey, but recent events had left it scored with bits of ash and dust and detritus. It carried streaks of white and gray, and the occasional blotch of vital pink.

He was not a happy bull, and he wore his discomfort in a glare. He had been captured several miles further north when he and his compatriots had been set upon by the guard of Ironforge. The others escaped; he did not. He knew their mission was not yet in jeopardy; that was some solace at least. They would still have the last laugh against this dark lord.

As if summoned by his thoughts themselves, the door to the room swung open and Forgath entered. His cloak billowed out behind him, framing the rest of his figure in the deep royal violet of its underside. With each step, a clink of metal upon stone. His eyes glowed red behind his visor, but the Minotaur met his gaze. He did not flinch; he must be strong.

The two stared each other down, the Dark Lord with crossed arms, the Minotaur with arms bound upward. Forgath was the first to break the glare, turning and striding over to a wooden table set up against the wall of the room. He examined several implements set upon it - the straight iron poker with a cruel hook, a lash with three weighted tips, a plunger of standard issue, and more. The lord made a show of examining each item in turn, turning them about in gauntleted hands. Apparently satisfied, he strode back over to stand before the captive.

"What is your name?" The questions began simply; they always did.

"Stark Contrast, and that's all you will get from me, monster." The bull's eyes narrowed.

"But you have told me so much already. I know you were sent by the forces of Crete. I know you are here to scout. And I know the others are still out there. You will reveal to me their location."

"I will do no such thing."

"You will, if you do not want to know the depths of my fury."

"Put it in a jug and spit in it, and it will then be worth the spit."

Forgath narrowed his eyes behind his helmet and moved a step closer, lifting a hand that begins to shimmer with whips of dark fire.  "You know, I think I shall start with the horns; I could use a new goblet."

"Try it; you'll choke on anything you drink from them."

"Yes, you are a brave one.  We'll see if that last as I hollow them out while they're still attached.  The smell will be awful, and that's truly saying something."

The bull's eyes widened just enough for Forgath to notice, but he steeled his gaze soon after. "Any torture you do upon me just proves our cause just."

"Oh, spare me.  You're a scouting force from a nation hoping to lay claim to the lands of another under a pretense of 'liberation'.  If your higher-ups convinced you of justice you're both gullible and bullheaded."  Forgath cocked his head for a second in consideration. "Well, more than is apparent."

"Your monstrous deeds speak for themselves."

He lifted his hand, the flames around it burning brighter. "And yet you'll be the one talking."

Just as he was moving it forwards towards a horn that jerked away from the oncoming heat, a loud rap on the door sounded.  Forgath paused, speaking without looking away from the bull.  "Enter."

The door opened and the face of one of his guards, an orange crystal pony, poked inward. "Lord Forgath, you are needed in the magical wing; something has gone wrong."

Forgath continued to watch the bull lean his head away from the burning hand, but he still replied. "Is it urgent?"

"Yes, Lord; one of the other captives has...responded poorly to treatment."

The flames dancing along his gauntlet died off, and he turned, striding towards the door. "Very well.  I suppose we will have to see to that first.  He paused at the door, turning to glance over his shoulder at Stark Contrast.  "Once I've dealt with your compatriot, I will deal with you.  Guards, with me."

With that, the door slammed shut.  Or tried, at least.  Something about it must have been set improperly - bar, latch, or otherwise - for rather than closing it bounced off its frame, giving Stark Contrast a view of a sliver of hallway beyond.

The bull waited as the hoofsteps retreated down the hallway, waited until he couldn't hear them any longer, then began viciously pulling at his chains.  He grunted, he strained, the tempting hint of freedom before him spurred him on...and yet no amount of flexing would pop a manacle, no degree of tugging would shear the chain.  All his effort merely set him lightly swinging by his wrists.  He closed his eyes and bellowed his fury, before sagging into panting, letting himself recover.

As his breath slowed and his eyes opened, he realized he was not alone.  There was a little face in the doorway, poked into the room through the open sliver.  It was a calf - a foal, he corrected himself - who couldn't be much more than a yearling.  It drew back a little when it noticed him looking, but when he didn't do anything it began to creep closer. One little blue hoof entering the room, then another.  It was a tiny little bat pony, one with a blue-green mane hanging half in her face.  She crept closer, looking nervous and ready to bolt, while the bull gave her a quizzical look in turn.

"Hello?"  The foal asked, still several lengths away from him and well out of reach.  Not that he had much reach to speak of other than "up" at the moment.

"Hello, little one.  What are you doing here?"

She fidgeted a little, wings fanning nervously as she spoke, the sound lightly muffled by her shoulder. "...I got lost..."

"Lost?"

She moved her head from her shoulder to look up at him. "What's your name?"

He blinked, but saw no harm in answering. "I am Auroch Stark Contrast.  And who might you be?"

"...'m Shady."

He smiled gently.  No need to terrify a foal with his mighty presence. "It's nice to meet you, Shady."

"Why're you hanging there?"

Stark had to resist the urge to snort. "I was captured by Lord Ironblood."

The filly gasped. "Why'd he capture you?"

"Because he is an evil tyrant, ever working to maintain his grip on your people." 

"He is?"  She looked up with wide eyes.

"He is."  The bull nodded, as certain as any could be.

"Oh.  And you were gonna stop him from bein' an eye-rent?"

"Tyrant, and yes, we will stop him."

"We?"

"My men and I.  We came on behalf of Crete - that's the land I come from."

"Oooh, what's it like?"

"It's a series of islands; warm, without being hot, cooled by the sea breezes, in the Marediteranian.  Olives grow in abundance, and red poppies and orchids of many colors - flowers, little one - rise up in the meadows.  Even the rocky crags sprout snake lilies and edible cacti.  And in the midst of this beauty, we have built cities and docks and labyrinths."

"That sounds really nice!  It's cold here."

He chuckled softly. "Yes, I have noticed.  My bulls were unused to it; the mountain passes are far colder than this city."

"Your bulls?  Do you have an army?  Are you a general?"

He smiled softly down at her. "No; I am an Auroch.  It's not a high rank but not a low one either; I can lead many, or squads of the elite.  And this time, it was the latter."

"Latter?"

"The second; I came with an elite squad.  We are taking stock."

"Oooh, you're scouting!  Ironforge has scouts too!"

"That they do."

"...Did your friends get caught too?  Are they in here with you?"

He chuckled at the concern on her face, shaking his head. "No.  Ponies under Ironblood's thrall attacked our camp, but my bulls escaped with their gear and supplies."

"Then why are you here?"

"I was the last one to hold the pass we used as a retreat.  I was captured so my bulls could go free."

"You're a hero!"  She looked up at him with a measure of awe.

He stood a little straighter - or much as one could while suspended by their wrists. "That I am."

"Lord Ironblood says heroes usually make stupid mistakes and get killed."

The bull did snort at that, causing the filly to pull back a little. "That is because he fears heroes." 

"He's afraid?"

"As he should be.  My bulls will rally at the backup positions and the mission will continue. We already know much of the land surrounding the city, and our hoplites will soon march.  He will be cast down, and we will restore freedom to you and your people."

"Really?"  She looked up with hopeful eyes.

"Yes."  He smiled with pride.  This was a temporary setback, he reminded himself.  Their cause was just, and the ponies would be freed.

"B'what if it doesn't?"

The bull blinked. "What if what doesn't?"

"Th' scouts; what if they don't win?  They're waaay up in the mountains; what if they get too cold?"

The bull chuckled. "They have warm clothes, blankets, and firewood.  They will be fine."

"But what if they get hungry?"

"They have enough food to last the winter, much in hidden caches.  They will be fine."

"What 'bout after the winter?"

"If their mission is not complete, they will be resupplied from Crete.  There is plenty of shoreline along the east."

"But they don't have a leader anymore; what if they're dumb?"

Another snort, and a billowing laugh. "They're not so weak without me that they can't complete the mission; I trust each of them with my life, and my second - a bull named Shield Wall - will guide them to victory."

The filly nodded. "What about you?  Are they gonna rescue you?"

He shook his head sadly. "No.  I am here until I am spent or until the city is free; my bulls will not risk the mission to come for me."

"Then how're you gonna get out?"

The bull considered it, a frown stretching his face as he was brought back to the present.  His wrists ached.  He cast his gaze around the room for a moment, before settling his eyes on the filly. "Mmmm...I will think of something.  Perhaps with the help of pony friends."

The filly perked up, her wings fluttering. "Ooh!  Ooh!  Can I help!?"

The bull glanced up at the doorway for another moment, before leaning his head down as far as his neck would reach (which wasn't all that far, as he didn't have much in the way of neck).  "Would you like to?"

"Yes!  Yes!"

"You serve in the tower?"

"Daddy lives here!"

"Good.  There is something you could do for me."

"What is it?"  She was practically bouncing on her hooves by now.

"Listen carefully.  Go to the eatery known as the Prickle Berry; look for a mare wearing a green shirt.  Go up to her and say 'What do you think of the weather?'  If she's the right one, she will say 'It's warm enough.'  Then, you say to her 'I wouldn't mind more heat'.  She'll take you somewhere you can talk safely with her; tell her what you know, and she'll help.

"Okay!  'What d'you think of the weather?' and 'I wouldn't mind more heat'!  Got it!"

"Now go; hurry, and don't get caught."

"Okay!  Byebye, Mr. Contest."

He opened his mouth to correct her, but she was already bolting from the room.  She pushed the door shut behind her, where it closed with a soft click.  The bull chuckled to himself, and a grin broke over his features.  Perhaps all was not yet lost.





The filly bolted down the hallway, little hooves tap-tap-tapping away,  until she rounded a corner and skidded right into the armored leg of Forgath Ironblood himself.  Her gaze slowly rose up along his form, up and up, until she was looking right at his eyes with her ears folded back.  He stared down at the adorable foal for a moment, waiting until she'd scooted herself back off of his boot, before reaching down to lay hands upon the filly.

Scooping her up with both hands, he lifted her high above his head - promptly getting a squeal of joy from Shady.  He gave her a little bounce in the air as chuckles bubbled up from within his helmet, her little batty wings fluttering and flapping as he 'flew' her this way and that in the air.

"Who's my cute little good cop?  Who's my adorable little good cop?"

She giggled and wiggled in his grip, her legs flailing at the air as his fingers tickles at her sides. "I am!  I am!"

In a gentle motion he flipped her over and swept her into the crook of an arm, cradling her there and poking her belly with an armored fingertip. "That's right!  You are!  And you did such a good job; I'm very proud of you!"

"Really!?"

"Yes."

"Yay!  Can we get ice cream?"

"Of course."

"YAY!"

"After you eat your dinner."

"Awww..."
> He Welcomes the Fallen (1 AB)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Good, very good.  Now, put it in."

A heavy feminine breath, a few pants, and then, "I'm trying!  It doesn't want to go!"

"Relax yourself; focus.  You can do it."

"This is way different than those crystals!"

"Calm down; no need to rush."

"Easy for you to say!  You're not the one trying to get this done!"

"I've 'gotten that done' for years now, by myself.  You're my most trusted minion; I trust you to do this too."

A frustrated grunt. "Can't you help?"

"No.  You've got to do it."

"Why?"

"Because it amuses me."

"What? Ack!  I can't hold it!"

Forgath stepped forward into the ritual circle, reaching out and gently taking hold of Puffy's outstretched, shimmering hoof. He pulled it away from an embellished steel shield and touched her frog to a gemstone in his other hand instead.  Once in contact, a gentle magical nudge started the mana flowing.  Soon, the gem was glowing a cheery blue and Puffy's hoof had lost its crystalline glimmer.

The mare panted, pulling her hoof back the moment the magic had left it to glower up at Forgath. "Okay, first?  That wasn't funny.  If you could have helped, why didn't you?"

Forgath gave a shrug. "I can help you fix your mistake, but for the best result in later attunement you should complete the object yourself.  That's why you spent so much time creating it in the first place, that's why you need to infuse and enchant it on your own.  Also, it does amuse me."

"Well I'm glad one of us thinks this is funny!"  Puffy turned with a huff to train her glare upon the shield.  All those hours working the steel, beating it into shape, etching the diagrams and decorations with acid, finding the right crystal foci, encrusting them in the right spots - it had all come to this, and now she couldn't finish it!

"Calm yourself.  This is an order of magnitude more complex than anything you've attempted previously.  It would be a challenge to the best enchanters in the city, myself excluded.  It is not easy."

"Of course not."  Puffy flicked her tail in annoyance, still staring down her masterwork.

Forgath crossed his arms. "But it is not beyond you.  Try again."

Puffy drew a slow breath, closing her eyes rather than looking at either of her obstinate tormentors.  It took a few more breaths, but she found her center and nodded, eyes opening once more.

"Okay.  One more time."  Forgath handed her the gem, and she began again.

First, the basics.  She felt for the magic within her, calling the faintest wisps to the bottom of one hoof.  She touched it to the storage gem held atop the other and willed the power to her.  It was hers, and it came readily; she gathered it to the wisps, swelling them into eddies and then ribbons.

Puffy's eyes narrowed, her full concentration on the faint shimmering glow at the tip of her hoof.  Now for the hard part.  She stretched out her foreleg towards the shield.  Immediately upon making contact, the glow began to fade.

She could feel it pressing back against her, trying to flow into her body's already-full stores.  The same structures that would let the shield hold her magic permanently acted as a wall to keep it out presently, just as they did for ambient energies.  She drew another slow breath and pushed harder, eyes narrowing as she focused.

"Feel your magic.  Feel your craftwork.  Both are yours.  You can merge them."  Forgath watched, arms crossed over his chest.

Puffy hardly grunted in acknowledgement, hoof staying planted firmly against the shield.  The glimmer increased as she pushed more magic into it, and translucence began to spread from the glow at the tip along the rest of the hoof.  Yet she couldn't make the magic take hold.

Forgath was saying something, but she didn't hear.  She was focused, fixated on the feeling of her magic mashing against the patterns.  There was no weakness, no way for her to just push her way in, so she began to experiment.  She nudged, she wiggled, she toyed - and eventually, she felt something.

It was only a sliver of her power, but it had gotten through.  It reached back to her from inside the array, and it was her guide.  She stoked it, feeding her mana to it like kindling, feeling each drop "leap" past the barrier and swell to fill the void within.

And then it was over.  Her hoof was just a hoof, the world existed again, and there was a nodding Forgath.

"Good job."

Puffy looked at him briefly before breaking out in a wide smile, her hoof brushing against the shield and feeling her magic within. "I did it.  I did it!"

A huff slipped Forgath's helmet as the green pony had herself a few celebratory pronks.  "Yes, yes you did.  And right on time."

"Huh?"  Puffy's pronking came to a close, and she tilted her head at her lord.

"We have a class to give.  Bring the shield; you can keep working on it."

"Oh.  Oh!  Huh, it didn't feel like that long..."  Puffy carried the shield (and its stand) over to a modest wooden case. 
Once packed, she slung it over her back and followed Forgath from the room.

A pair of guards met them just outside the door, falling into step as they descended the Tower of Despair.  They didn't have far to go; within one of the basement levels of the Tower waited a collection of Ironforge's best mages.  Most had been members of his first class in this world, those he had entrusted with his arts, though not all had continued the practice.  Each further addition had been a pony that had drawn his attention and gained a measure of his trust.

Only a partial measure, of course.  You never completely trusted minions; that's just begging for trouble.

As they strode by a window, Forgath's gaze was drawn briefly to the moonrise.  It was late in the evening already, and the moon was full.  When he had first arrived in this land of ponies, the moon had been pristine; it had been part of how he had known that he was no longer on his own world.  But five months ago the moon had acquired blemishes in a strange pattern - the silhouette of a horned mare.  Unlike the supposed figure seen in the scars of his home's moon, this was more distinct.  Purposeful.  And it arrived suddenly one night, heralded by a great pillar of light from the south.  This had not boded well to Forgath, and that very night he had set aside greater resources for his astronomers, though they had found nothing unusual save for the obvious.

Forgath shook his head as the march took them past the window and to the stairs leading down.  Whatever would come of it would come, and his astronomers were no doubt still keeping an eye on it; he had better things to do.  Soon enough, two levels beneath the surface and through a few passages, they came upon the finely-crafted tower-cap door of the study that would be today's classroom.  Forgath pushed it open, letting a brief jumble of noise into the hallway before the conversations within died off.  He strode in, smiling at the sight of his magi in their dark robes.  True, they were still various shades of pastel ponies, and they were still smiling and offering hoof-bumps to Puffy as she entered, but the dark robes instilled an air of seriousness.  Somewhat.

It was an uphill battle.

Forgath strode to the front of the room, leaving his papers upon a desk while Puffy set up her shield to continue enchanting.  Once he had everyone's attention, he began.  "Today, we will be discussing mana sources."  

Several of the faces fell into frowns at that.  Crystal Rose raised a hoof.  "Sir, haven't we already done that?"

"Yes, all of you understand the basics, but we will be discussing them in greater depth.  Several of you have begun experimenting on the topic, and others have been working with or on spells that could benefit from a greater understanding."

He stayed standing and gestured while he spoke, sweeping a hand to indicate all of them. "You already know all about your personal mana, and you know about storing mana and using stored mana.  But there are limits, even when it comes to storage.  So today, you will learn how other sources are used."

"You already know that there is ambient magic in the world around us.  You also know it can be tapped into in certain ways, as the magelight-enchanted crystals do.  But there are more ways of tapping into such magic and more diverse sources of it than you might expect.  The land itself carries magic, as do the sky and the storm, the sun and moon, and so forth.  All of these can be drawn upon to power your spells and enchantments.  With experience, you can attune yourself to some part of the world - or to an ideal - and draw more magic that way.  Doing so often makes it harder for others to draw from the same source, but it can be quite effective; on my world there were several ancient civilizations that learned to attune themselves to the sun, calling upon its light and fire to smite their foes."

Forgath lifted a hand, coating it in mana and frost as he created a shard of ice in his palm. "And that brings us to the first issue.  Most mana has a form or flavor to it, making it more useful for some spells than others.  Reaching into the frigid land around us makes it easy for me to work cold, but I could not use it to power my flames easily.  Converting the mana from one form to another is possible, though often costly; you end up spending mana to make the change, and need spellforms or enchantments specifically to do so.  Alternately, you can take it into yourself and change it into your own, but doing so is a risk; take in too much or without caution and the nature of you and your mana can be changed in turn.  That is why most of the exercises you do to expand your personal stores involve your own mana.

"The second issue, obviously, is how much you can draw.  While the mana of the world is plentiful, it is not limitless; a skilled mage can draw more and quicker, but the amount around you will limit the rate and the more you pull the more quickly any given source will dwindle.  Besides that, living things are troublesome; the greater the will, the more they will innately fight to hold on to their mana.  If they are trained, it becomes more difficult still.  It is typically not worthwhile to try to draw from anything smarter than a tree, and even some old trees can take umbrage.  Further, drawing from a living creature faster than it can regenerate can do it harm, as can emptying it.  Some of you have experienced mana exhaustion before yourselves, and so have some idea.  So, unless you have very clever workings and a plan, the living are not worth using as a source."

After shaking the ice from his hand, he crossed his arms and completed the overview. "Extra sources can be used to power your spells, charge enchantments, and otherwise provide ease and power when used properly.  A creative mage will find further uses."

A hoof raised up, and Forgath nodded to Granite Batholith.  "Do you have a source that you use for your flames?  Or the Pillar?"

Forgath nodded. "Indeed; though I have plentiful mana to begin with, I use other sources when I can.  As you guessed, the local mana is not eager to produce flame.  My armor is heavily enchanted, and that includes enchantments that can gradually build stores of unformed mana for me to use from that around me or directed at me.  And of course, I have my bound source."  He raps his chestplate with gauntleted knuckles.

"Your...what?"

"My bound source; I thought showed it to you before?"

Puffy interjected, shaking her head. "No you haven't."

"I haven't?"

A silent chorus of curious shaking heads responded.

"Hm.  Well then, I suppose it's about time."

With practiced motions and the occasional touch of magic, Forgath loosened the straps of his chestplate and removed it, revealing the layer of fine chain beneath.  He separated the joined pieces,  setting the front half upon a table, and turning it around so his mages could see the inside.  A pattern of sharp red lines resembling a wrinkled, scowling face was painted or enameled upon the concave surface, stretching across the breadth of the plate.

"Everyone, meet Sock."

The assembled ponies moved closer, staring at the strange drawing, occasionally whispering to one another as they took notice of the runework surrounding the odd drawing.

"Oh, that's right, he's gagged.  Let's give him the ability to speak."  Forgath brought a glowing finger into contact with one of the arrays.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The ponies recoiled, ears flattened against the screams rolling off the armor.  Forgath chuckled darkly.

"What...what is it?!"  The speaker had to raise his voice to be heard.

"He is a creature of magic, a sapient elemental manifestation of pain."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

"You...you have a demon trapped in your armor?"  A different pony asked.

"That's an oversimplification, but yes."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

"H-how could you do that?" 

"Using a containment vessel aligned to his nature."

MYYYYYY LIIIIFE IS AAAAAAGONYYYYY!

At the pony's horrified looks, Forgath shrugged.  "He likes it."

KIIIIIIIIILL MEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIAAAAAAA-

"That's enough out of you."  Another tap, and the armor fell silent again.  Several of Forgath's magi were leaning away from the scowling decoration, as if it might try to bite them.  Many had inched towards the door.  "Don't listen to his jokes, he's having the time of his life.  Or whatever passes for living for such creatures."

For some reason, the ponies did not seem to be much comforted.  Forgath continued, undaunted.  "The work you can see here contains his essence - he's mostly made of magic in the first place - and prevents him from manifesting a more physical form.  Because pain is his nature and the nature of his magic, my array uses pain to keep him contained.  You can also bind using opposed forms, and it's often easier to do so, but it would be less useful as a source if I had.  As it is, I can draw off large portions of his mana and forge them into my magic; my flames especially benefit from them, and he regenerates quickly.  None of you should attempt anything like this yet; the workings are too complex, and this sort of creature is tricky to deal with."

Several worried looks were exchanged, and Crystal Rose spoke up once more. "You're...sure...it's not hurting him?"

"Oh, it's hurting him more than most beings could imagine - but pain is his very essence; he likes it."

Forgath rather enjoyed the various expressions that played over the faces of his minions before Puffy ventured the next question. "...You named him 'Sock'?"

"Well, no, that's just a nickname; his name is a phrase meaning 'agony' in another language, but the first portion of it sounds like 'sock' or 'sack'."

Though that took a moment for the magi to process, there were clearly more questions coming and Forgath could tell that his discussion on sources of mana was going to be derailed for a while yet.  He did not expect the derailment to come from a knock on the door, however.  He nodded to Puffy, who answered it while he donned his chestplate once again.  At the door was a guard, who entered and snapped a salute.

"Lord Forgath, your attention is needed at the gates."

"The gates?  Do we have visitors?"

"No sir.  Refugees."

Forgath paused only a moment before striding for the door. "Puffy, with me.  We will postpone the remainder of this lesson until after this is dealt with; dismissed. Sergeant, clarify. I thought that all the other crystal ponies were gone; we haven't gotten stragglers for years now."  Puffy hastily put her shield away, closing and locking the case.  She fell into step with Forgath's other guard as they left the babbling mages behind.

The sergeant strode beside Forgath, hurrying to keep up. "They're not crystal ponies, sir.  They're pegasi."

"Pegasi?  Winged horses?"

"Winged ponies.  Much like us, but without our affinities and with the ability to fly."

"Hm.  Where are they from?"

"Equestria."

The group passed up and out through the Tower's large doors, onto the Path of Despair.  He questioned the scout further as they walked and soon Forgath stood at the main gate.  He met the gaze of the gatekeeper waiting above, giving her a nod.  "Open it."  The guard saluted, and with a few shouted orders the twin iron doors swung inward and Forgath started through them.  The first thing the ponies on the other side saw was the biped dressed in full plate armor, his purple cape billowing behind him, and the red glow of his eyes.  In turn, the first thing Forgath saw was the slit pupils and rustling bat-like wings of the pegasi, the nearest of which stepped back in alarm.

Forgath strode a few paces past the gatehouse, his two guards flanking him.  Before him, now in a rough semicircle, stood nearly a hundred bat-winged ponies looking at him with fear and distrust.  He found it nostalgic.

"Greetings.  I am Forgath Ironblood, ruler of the city of Ironforge.  And I bid you welcome."

A voice called out from the midst of the crowd.  "What are you?"

Forgath grinned lightly, unseen behind his helmet. "I am offering you sanctuary."  This sparked chatter among the pegasi, skepticism edged with curiosity.  Without turning, Forgath raised a hand outward and back, indicating the walls and Tower visible behind him. "The city of Ironforge was founded and settled by refugees under my guidance.  They now grow strong and wise."  With that, he turned and began to stride back towards the gate.  "Come, warm yourselves and see their works; you have my word that no harm will come to you by my hand or those of my minions."

"Their...hands?" A confused pony called out.

Forgath held back the urge to sigh.  "Nor the hooves of my minions."  With as much said, he resumed his pace.

The guards, smiling quite warmly as their dark lord started to walk away, nodded and beckoned the pegasi forward; at their urging, the crowd became a procession.  Forgath and his ponies led them through the gates of steel and ice and along the cobbled streets.  The pillar of flame acted as their guide and destination, much as it had led to the pegasi finding the town originally, and many couldn't help but glance up at its strange ruby glow.  

Hushed conversations flitted through the ranks, mostly between the pegasi themselves.  Occasionally, one would catch the attention of a guard and get a question answered.  Much was familiar; signs made of a strange pale wood hung before shops, advertising a smith here and a baker there.  A few foals spotted the procession and darted into the mouth of an alley to watch their lord and the strange winged ponies pass.  Ponies on the street stopped to wave or bow in equal measure.  As expected, the questions were mostly about the differences; questions include why there was so much ice on the buildings ("extra mortaring and insulation"), what they ate ("mushrooms are a staple"), and just what was that shop with a sign bearing a maggot and the word "whir" above it ("the dairy, obviously").

Soon enough, they arrived at the plaza.  It had undergone some changes since the last time Forgath had met with refugees; a large stone stage of sorts had been constructed in the center, circular and surrounding the pillar, with three equally-spaced pairs of side-facing stairs allowing ascent.  The buildings at the plaza's edge had grown, most now standing three stories tall; between them and the addition of the stage, the rest of the plaza still felt to Forgath as if it had been lowered.  Various vendors with carts of the same pale wood milled about the plaza, occasionally hawking their wares to ponies passing by, though they gave Forgath and his procession a wide berth.  

Conversation throughout the plaza drifted to a halt as the bat-winged visitors drew more and more attention.  Once he was standing beside the stage, Forgath turned and addressed the group.  "I have been told you have come from Equestria.  Your journey must have been long and difficult, so those who need food and rest will be seen to first.  Our mess halls are well-stocked, and you may eat your fill.  While we have no inns, we will make room for you in our barracks and any unoccupied housing.  My guard will escort and guide you, and once I have spoken to your leaders you will be allowed freely through Ironforge - so long as you do no harm to my city nor my minions.  I will say this once: they are mine, and they are under my protection.  Do not betray my hospitality, nor theirs."

After a series of nods rippled through the assembled pegasi, Forgath nodded.  "Good.  See to your hunger and fatigue; when your leaders are ready to speak, send word with one of the guard."

A particularly large stallion, tall, muscular, and armored under his cloak, stepped forward from the midst of the herd.  "I am ready.  We may speak now."

"And you are?"

"Captain Shadow Mane of Her Majesty Princess Luna's personal guard.  I protect my ponies."

Forgath nodded. "Can you speak on their behalf and of your circumstances?"

Shadow Mane looked about, meeting the gaze of several individuals before turning his attention forward once more. "I can."

Forgath nodded once again, making note of the others he had looked do. "Very well.  Will you accompany me to my Tower so we may speak without intrusion?"

"Give me your word that no harm will come to me or my ponies, and I shall."

"I gave it to you at the gate, but I will say it again: no harm will come to you by me, nor my minions."

He nodded, apparently satisfied, and made his way through the crowd to stand before Forgath.  Despite standing tall compared to the other ponies, the stallion still had to tilt his head up to avoid looking Forgath in the midsection. With the wave of a hand Forgath turned and Shadow Mane fell into step beside him, guards moving to flank both their lord and his guest.  As they started, Forgath turned to the nearest. "Glaive, get a head-count and have room prepared in the main guard complex.  If more space is needed, contact Cap Stone and Feudal Effort; they'll be able to find more housing."

Glaive snapped a salute, and broke off to go about his assigned duty.  After watching him go, Puffy turned to her lord with a tilt of her head. "Aren't those two still having a spat?"

Forgath shrugged. "They can argue all they want so long as it doesn't affect Ironforge, and if it does I'll have words with them."

"Oh, you'll do more than glare this time?"

Forgath let out a little huff behind his helmet, the faintest hint of a laugh, and Puffy smiled wider.





Forgath had a throne room, if only technically.  It was Forgath's, he ruled from it, and it contained a large stone chair that he sat upon.  However, in actuality the room was closer to council chambers; Forgath did not hold court and did not have a list of courtiers stand around while he sat and acted the judge.  His throne sat before a rounded table, which was surrounded by more typical chairs.  It was at that table that he now sat across from the pegasus.  Puffy had picked a chair between the two, while the other guards stood.  Drinks had been provided, a wine made from the mushrooms grown beneath the plaza, though Forgath's guest seemed reluctant to try it.

"So, Shadow Mane, tell me: why do your people wander?"

"Because of our loyalty.  We will not serve the traitor-princess."

"Ah yes, Equestria is ruled by two princesses, correct?  Which did you say you serve?"

"We were the servants of Princess Luna, Maiden of the Night, Mistress of Dreams, -"

"And many further titles?"

The pegasus snorted his displeasure at being interrupted. "Yes, all well-earned."

Forgath raised a placating hand, fingers spread.  Puffy began to sip at her drink as she watched the exchange. "Peace; I mean no disrespect.  I would like the full name later, in fact, but right at the moment I must know: what has happened?  She ruled with her sister, correct?"  

"She was betrayed!  Her sister, Celestia, ruled the day - and like the blazing sun, she cast her glare into every crack it could reach.  With sweet words she wooed the nobility and wound the ponies of the land around her hoof.  They glorified her, flocked to her, worshiped her, and her sister was forced, slowly but surely, into the shadows.  Princess Luna was patient but wise, and she saw through her sister's scheming.  But when she confronted Celestia, her sister refused to give up any of what she'd taken.  She sought to keep all the power to herself."

He paused long enough to try a swig of his wine, then continued. "Celestia betrayed her position as diarch, and my mistress was given no choice but to take back what was hers by force.  They fought over the capitol and Celestia was overpowered by Princess Luna's magic, but the traitor called upon an arcane relic, expending it to banish Princess Luna to the moon.  My ponies knew what was coming after that, so we took flight.  Not all of us; some stayed to hide or fight, and some have sworn fealty to the traitor-princess.  Much as I admire those who now rise in rebellion, we have not the numbers nor means for a prolonged conflict, and the turncoats among the Lunar Guard knew our secrets."

Forgath nodded as he considered.  So not only did Celestia successfully usurp her sister's influence, she was magically potent and clever enough to keep a trump card hidden away.  As a result, she was now the sole ruler of their nation after a failed coup by her sister.  And all that after having previously toppled King Sombra with her sister.  Forgath found that he was beginning to like this Princess.  Or would that be "Queen", now?  Either way, he would need to be careful with his southward expansion.

"So, you fled?"

"We did what we must.  I guard many who cannot fight, and if we cannot win then we must retreat and lick our wounds until we are strong enough to do so.  This is not over, so long as even one true thestral draws breath."

"Thestral?"

"Thestral.  Lunar Pegasus.  There are several names for our kind; we have leathery wings rather than the feathers of the Solar Pegasus."

"Ah.  I will want to know more about your people, but first allow me to make an offer."

"An offer?"

"Join me."

A mug was returned to the table with a clunk.  "And betray my mistress?  Hah!  I would not do that for her sister, why would I do it for you?"

"I ask no such thing.  Your mistress is defeated and gone, so how do you plan on serving her?  By biding your time and strength.  Join me and grow strong, as the crystal ponies have.  They started much like you, but now they are fed, housed, and growing.  My might and magic empowers them, and by our will the ice gives way to Ironforge.  Join us."

"You still ask us to be beholden to you, do you not?"

"Yes, with a condition."

"A condition?"

"Should your princess return, should she rally you once more, I will release you from any oaths you swear to me so that you may go to her.  And just think; if you serve me well, you lay the grounds for an alliance between Princess Luna and Ironforge.  What better service could you do your Princess than to secure a potent ally?"

The stallion furrowed his brow in thought.  Coming to a conclusion, he lifted his mug to throw back the rest of the odd drink.  "I cannot make the decision for my ponies, but I will relay your offer to them."

Forgath sat back in his seat, satisfied.  "That is all I can ask."

"But I must know.  Why?"

"Why?"

"Why trust us?  Why make this offer?"

"I do not trust you.  Trust is earned, and should you stay you will either earn it or your betrayal will earn you fire.  And besides, you know the sting of betrayal; you would not do as Celestia has done, would you?"  Shadow Mane's snarled reply died on his lips as Forgath carefully removed his helmet, revealing the patchwork of burns and scars beneath.  "As to the offer?  Because it will strengthen my city.  Because it will bring me glory.  And, perhaps, because I have a certain sympathy for those banished to the cold and dark."  He kept his scarlet gaze upon the stunned stallion until he got a shaky nod of recognition, and then he took the opportunity to bring his mug to his exposed lips, drinking deeply.

While Shadow Mane was taking in the alien before him, Puffy looked upon her lord with a slight frown, the frown of someone who knows that something must be done, but not how.  She sighed inwardly, finishing off her own drink just in time to witness the end of the conversation.

"I will relay your offer, Lord Ironblood."  The stallion stood, his discipline overcoming his surprise.

"See that you do.  I do not need your decision immediately; rest, recover, see to your people.  My guards will attend you."

"Thank you, on my people's behalf."  He nodded, and turned to leave, a guard going with him.

Puffy waited until the doors were once again closed to rise, approaching Forgath's seat.  Forgath finished off his own drink in the meantime, luxuriating in the cool air on his skin.

"You know, seeing you without your helmet still surprises me."

"Mmm?"  An empty mug clacked lightly against the tabletop.

"All...that."  She gestured with a hoof  at his face. "You're always armored, always untouchable.  It just seems like you'd never get hurt like that."

Forgath's grin was faint and humorless. "I was not born armored."

"You know...if you ever want to ta-"

Forgath rose abruptly, his helmet secured atop his head with a clank. "I think that went well, don't you?"

Puffy blinked a few times, sighing before she nodded and met his gaze, her own smile at least partially true.  "Yes, I think they're gonna stay.  Most, anyway."

Forgath nodded.  "As do I.  They will make good minions.  Loyal too, going by their dedication to their Dark Lady."

"That could just be him, you know."

"If it is, then the rest have even fewer reasons to refuse the offer."

"True."  Puffy drew a long breath, then ventured a more natural smile. "So, what else are we doing today?"

"I trust my minions to handle arrangements for our guests in the short-term, but we will need to adjust our expansion plans to account for their stay."

"So speeding them up?"

"Mostly.  I imagine they will require some sort of special accommodation.  New types of minions generally do."

"We're gonna have to consult them before we start building, got it.  That means waiting until they're ready for more questions - so what are we doing tonight?"

"We should still send tentative word to Granite and her quarriers; we'll need more stone, and we can always stockpile it.  It won't go bad before we use it.  Aside from that, I think I'll spend more time with you, getting that shield finished."

"Oh my. Lord Ironblood, are you asking me on a date?"

Forgath huffed, crossing his arms.  "You know, I have ways of handling my disrespectful minions."

Puffy cocked an eyebrow in turn, grinning cheekily. "So you're saying you wanna punish me?"

The red eyes were narrowing now.  Forgath leaned forward towards her. "You know, I think I will."

"Wait, what?"

"In fact, I recently discovered that you ponies have a unique form of punishment, one I've never done upon any minion before.  I doubt its effectiveness, but I'm willing to try it until I get it right."

Puffy took a few steps back as Forgath loomed, raising a waving hoof disarmingly. "Hey, it's all in good humor, you know I don't mean anything by -eeep!"

Forgath had reached out and prodded her nose gently with the very tip of an armored finger.  Puffy stared up at him wide-eyed, hooves shooting up to cover her snoot, torn between indignation and incredulity.  "W-what?"  The word was muffled slightly behind her hooves.

Forgath straightened up and began to stride off, a few barking cackles echoing around the room.  "Would you look at that?  Seems like it works on more than just foals; I'm going to have to thank Cap and Feudal for suggesting it.  Come along, you've got a shield to enchant."

The other guards in the room managed to keep from snickering until after Puffy had cantered out.
> He Tells a Filly About Her Mother (996 AB)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forgath relaxed in his study.  It was a surprisingly simple room, just off the common area of his apartments and lined with shelves of books.  A fire blazed merrily in the hearth - the typical kind, rather than the balefire of the pillar - and the faint wisps of smoke that evaded the flue filled the room with a fond and earthy smell.  Forgath himself sat in one of the tall-backed chairs.  He was free of his armor (excepting his customary chain shirt) and paging slowly through an old arcane tome.  He'd read this one a few times already, but he was hoping to find some inspiration in the imported work; the ponies of Equestria had a different approach to magic theory, and he found it invigorating.

Somewhere just shy of the halfway mark, a little knock on the door drew his attention away from the runic description of a shield spell.  He placed the book's ribbon marker and closed it, calling out, "Come in."

The door was pushed open slightly and Shady poked her head in.  While still a little foal, she had recently had her eighth birthday and was growing more and more each day.  She'd begun her primary education - "first grade", as it was now called - and had made several friends among her new classmates.  Forgath had expected as much; she'd been happy and outgoing well before she had learned to talk.  The Shady that presently peeked into the study, however, seemed nervous, almost shy, and that was enough for Forgath to set aside his book entirely.  He gave her a gentle smile and opened his hands. "Come here, Shady."

Not one to turn down a hug, the batty filly broke into a big smile of her own, dashing across the carpet and hopping up into his lap, where she was promptly drawn in against the fine mesh of chain over his chest.  Forgath ran a hand lightly through her mane, smiling down at her as he held her close.  Father and daughter just sat for a few moments, enjoying the comfort of the embrace, but Forgath knew there was something to discuss.  "Is something wrong, sweetheart?"

"Well..."  The young filly looked up at him, before glancing to one side, her ears leaning backward. "...there's something I wanted to ask you."

"I see.  Does this have anything to do with foals?"

"Huh?  Um...no?"

"So the gods know mercy after all."

"What?"  A little batty snoot scrunched up in confusion.

"Nothing.  Go ahead and ask, Shady; I won't be mad."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Well I...I wanted to ask...who was my mother?"

Forgath paused his hand mid-stroke.  He nodded slowly down at her, his head tilting slightly after. "I see.  Well, I knew you'd want to know someday.  Guess it's finally time."

"So you'll tell me?"

"Of course.  Your mother was a mare named Tranquil Stand."

"What did she look like?"

"Oh, she looked a little like you, and a little like your sister.  Would you like to see a picture?"

"Yeah!"

Forgath chuckled softly, rising from his seat and cradling his foal in his arms as he headed for his bedroom. "Alright, off we go!"

Shady giggled as she was carried along, hugging her hooves around his neck.  In no time they were inside, and she'd been set down upon Forgath's bed.  The dark lord moved to his cluttered desk, brushing a few stacks this way and that until he'd found a picture frame, which he brought over to show to the curious thestral.

"This is her."

Shady scooched closer, so intent on taking in the image that she nearly pressed her little snoot up against it.  There in living color was a crystal mare in her prime, her rich, sapphire-blue coat offset by a light blond mane.  She wore the armor of Ironforge's Tower Guard, a light ornamental plate that covered chest, barrel, and forelegs in black metal and gold runes.  An accompanying helmet sat on the ground next to her as she posed in a seated position, smiling warmly towards the viewer.  More than anything else, it was her eyes that drew Shady's attention; while faceted rather than slit, they were the same shade of violet she saw in the mirror each day.

Forgath waited patiently as his foal took in the sight of her mother.  He could see the excitement gathering as questions began to bounce around her head.  Soon enough, one managed to find its way to the exit.

"She was a guard?"

"She was.  This was taken shortly after her last promotion; she had fulfilled her duties admirably, and became one of my Lieutenants."

"Is that good?"

"It is; she was recognized by her peers and earned the command of the Tower Guard."

"Was she strong?"

"Very.  She was one of the most gifted warriors I have ever known, and learned the art of magic purely to counter it.  She was no mage, but she was a powerful spellbreaker."

"... can I meet her?"  Shady's eyes held a reserved sort of hope.

Forgath drew a slow breath.  Some part of him was impressed; he had not met a new kind of pain in decades, yet here it was.  "Maybe one day.  But she is not with us any longer."

"She's not?  Why did she leave us?"

"She did not have a choice.  During a dangerous mission, she contracted a magical illness, a curse of sorts.  She endured it for years, with the help of myself and the magi, but in the end she could not be cured.  However, she was strong enough to bring us you."

"Me?"

"Mmmhm.  You are her last gift and her final wish."

Shady was quiet for a few moments, her gaze falling back to the picture, to the smiling mare in the proud armor.  She scooted in, leaning her side against her father, who held her gently.

"Do...you miss her?"

Forgath nodded.  "Every day."

Shady wiggled, turning so she could put her little hooves as far around Forgath's middle as she could.  He smiled, leaving his hand upon her back.  He didn't expect to be the one being comforted, nor how successful the attempt would be.  "Don't worry.  I miss her always, but I'm not sad.  I still have you and your sister, after all."  Bringing his other hand over, he gently poked her nose, making her scrunch and giggle in objection.

"No! No boops!"  She looked up at him indignantly, trying to hide the smile that betrayed her fondness.

"Just three more?"  Forgath bargained.

"No!  No more!"

"Just one more?"

"No! No more!"

"Too bad."  He brought his finger down, slowly. Shady squeaked and hid her nose behind her hooves.  Forgath took the opportunity to tip her backward and tickle her belly; he was rapidly rewarded by more giggles and the flailing of hooves.

After he stopped tickling and she stopped giggling, he drew her close once more, lifting the picture into view.  "Your mother was very special to me, and so are you."

She nodded, smiling as she leaned against him.  "I can still miss her, right?  Even though I don't remember her?"

"Of course.  But you should know that she loved you very much, and would be very proud of you, just like I am."

"You're proud of me?"  Shady perked up, smiling big.  This wasn't the first time her father had told her as much, but she really liked hearing it - and it showed.

Forgath smiled warmly in turn, if with a little mischief in his eyes.  "Of course.  You are my best little tomato."

"I'm not a tomato!" The little thestral wasted no time before giving him a good pout.

Forgath chuckled.  "But you're turning red."

"Am not!"  She was. 

"But yes, I'm very proud of you.  You're a bright filly, and I know you'll do well in whatever you set your mind to."

She beamed at that, little wings fluttering.  After a moment or two though, a thoughtful expression crossed her muzzle.  "Wait..."

"Yes?"

"So,  me and Tourmaline -"

"Tourmaline and I."

"Yeah, Tourmaline and I - we look how we do because it's how our mom looked?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't we look like you?"

...Clever girl indeed.  "You mean you don't see the resemblance?"

Forgath received a look so flat it included her ears. "No."

"What about when I had that cold?"

"...huh?"

"I was a little horse."

Shady groaned. "Daaaaaaad, c'mon; I'm s-"  her mouth snapped shut, eyes wide.  She caught herself before it was too late - but Forgath was grinning anyway.  He knew she heard the joke in her head.

"Seriously.  Why don't we look like you?"

"I...think that's a story for when you're older."

Shady had never liked that excuse.  In fact, Forgath doubted any child ever did.  He tried to avoid it where possible, regardless of how adorably Shady fluttered her wings when frustrated.  Still, this was a talk that he didn't want to have with her quite yet.  Let her stay innocent a little longer.

He might be getting old, he reflected; protecting innocence was awfully sentimental.  He shook off the thought.

"The important thing isn't that we look the same, it's the love.  Your mother loved you very much, even if she didn't know you for long.  And I would cover the lands of your enemies in dark flame - if you had any worth the effort, that is."

Shady giggled. "You would?"

"Oh yes.  Their holdings would turn to ash and their rivers would run red with blood."

"Gross!"  More childish giggles followed.

He smiled warmly down at her.  "Is there anything else you wanted to know?"

"Hmmmm...oh!  Does she have a stone?"

"She does."

"...can we visit some time?  We could bring her cookies?"

"I don't think cookies are quite appropriate, but...yes, we can visit, when you're sure you're ready."

Shady nodded.  "What was her talent?"

"Ah.  You can't see it in the picture, but her mark -"

"Cutie Mark!"  Shady grinned.  She knew he tried to avoid the term.

"Yes, that.  It was a spell glyph representing 'pain' that was split down the middle; it represented both her talent for spellbreaking and her ability to overcome great pain itself."

"...Did she have to do that a lot?"

"Spellbreaking?"

"No."

"Ah.  Sometimes, yes.  She was a very brave pony, and she had the sense and skill to make that worth something.  But her talent wasn't just about her own pain.  She also soothed those around her."

"By magic?"

"Only a little; she dabbled in potion-making.  Mostly she was just..."

A little blue head tilted to the side. "...juuuust?"

Forgath shrugged helplessly. "Nice, perhaps?  She could talk to you and make you feel better."

"Ooooh!  That's neat!"

"Indeed, and all too rare.  Good morale is very important."

"Mmmhm!  You can beat an enemy by beating their will!"

"You remembered; good girl."  Forgath ran a hand through her mane again, and she leaned into it.

"Oh! How did you two first meet?"

"Ah, I think that story will have to wait."

"Awww, but why?"

"Because your sister is going to be home soon, and she'd hate to miss it."
> He Makes a Unicorn (AB 2)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forgath honestly didn't know what he would do without his thestrals. It had been less than a year since they had become his minions, yet already they were indispensable.

"Move those sorry flanks, recruit! I've seen ducks that swim faster than you're going!"

Forgath watched as Shadow Mane ran the newest group of guard recruits through their paces. The stallion cut an imposing figure in his new armor - black plate, decorated with with lunar emblems at the breast and shoulders. Or should it be "Lunar"? Either way, Forgath approved of the simple, elegant style of the armor and crests both; a good look for a Trusted Lieutenant, yet not one that would distract from his own ensemble. Today, said ensemble matched his mottled armor with a deep violet cloak that surrounded him from back to chest, trimmed at the bottom in the white-and-black speckles of ermine fur. Forgath had been surprised indeed to find a furrier among his new minions, but she had wasted no time in flying south and finding something "befitting of her new lord". While a more "royal" look then he tended to favor, he was of the opinion that dark enough violet goes with everything.

Just like black.

"Get those wings folded! No gliding, not even hops! This is leg day, so if you want to keep all four you better move them! Private Tip, did I say you could laugh?"

Forgath smiled behind his helmet; it seemed some things were constant whatever world you were on.

"See something you like, Forgy?" He didn't face her, but he could hear the smirk in her voice.

"Yes I do, Forge Bellows."

She ignored the use of her name, her tone growing more smug. "And what's caught your eye? Is it his flowing mane? Those cute little fangs of his? Or maybe it's his nice, shapely -"

"- Loyalty to Ironforge and dutiful training of further minions? Why yes, it is that exactly. Good guess." Forgath allowed himself a faint smirk at the indignant huff from the green mare. One point to the Dark Lord.

"You have the most boring taste in stallions, you know that?"

"This coming from the mare that likes her 'stallions' bipedal?"

"Psh, everypony likes 'em exotic. Maybe some silks and cute jewelry..."

"If I ever capture a sultan's harem of nubile minotaur bulls, you'll be the first to know."

She turned a wide-eyed gaze up at him, full of the same exaggerated hope that dripped from her voice. "You mean it?"

He allowed himself a few chuckles (one point for the pony) and Puffy laughed with him, soon falling into a mostly-comfortable silence as they each retreated into their thoughts.

Yes, the thestrals were indispensable. The new weather team had cleared the sky of the constant, swirling clouds, and while they would reform eventually Forgath was presently enjoying a sunny day - a guilty pleasure for a dark lord if ever there was one. A select few had joined the lower ranks of the magi; while they did not have the same instinctual talent for crystal foci, their innate magics gave them insight into workings dealing with water, air, and shadow. Several of their civilians brought with them knowledge of crafts that were not present among the citizens of Ironforge, including the aforementioned furrier. Granted, not all of them were immediately useful (and Forgath wasn't sure what he was going to do with the beekeeper in this climate) but that was a matter for later. Even more valuable, a small segment of them had military training and experience that was invaluable, including Shadow Mane first and foremost. His crystal pony guards had trained, yes, but largely from scratch; Forgath did not know how to train a quadruped to fight as anything but a mount.

Which was a fact he would never, ever reveal to Puffy.

A second fact that he would not be sharing was that he did appreciate his new minions' aesthetics. They came with muted colors, fangs (which were not cute), slit pupils, and best of all bat wings! They were still ponies, and Forgath would live with that, but these were what a minion was supposed to look like. The first time he had seen one of them waiting in a patch of shadow, visible only as a pair of faintly reflective eyes...yes, these were proper, dark, respectable-looking minions.

If only they didn't tend to squeal when they were happy, they would be ideal.

The time for musing on such matters was almost up, however; there was a greater task to accomplish today than checking in on the training of his guard. He nodded to Shadow Mane in a lull between beratings, getting a nod in return, and turned to walk back towards the rest of the city with his pair of personal guard falling into step beside him.

The new training grounds were stationed in a middle-portion of the new leaflet. Ironforge had been a circular, walled city prior to the arrival of the thestrals, but now it also sported an extra, north-pointed, jutting set of walls about as long as the city center was in diameter, wide at the base where it met the circle and narrowing to a distant point tipped in a watchtower. New housing had risen up between the new walls (taller buildings, with fewer windows but more balconies) and a large portion of the thestrals had settled in and opened shops and the like. Apparently the name "Bat Quarter" was catching on, and while Forgath didn't necessarily approve, the name did have certain advantages over the much blander "Northern Quarter".

Passing through one of the two major gates back into central Ironforge, he pondered the further leaflets. Defensively, they could be both boon or curse; an extended area to be attacked and breached while at the same time a self-contained territory that would hold or fall independently. Once he had multiple leaflets, they could also share fields of fire unless the attacking force assaulted one of the points alone, and if they did that they were already funneled to that point; the defense could be focused. Of course, the prevalence of creatures on this world that could fly meant that walled fortresses were incomplete without further protections. Though he had been meaning to settle down and build a flying fortress one of these decades...

"So, copper for your thoughts?" ventured Puffy.

"It's probably not worth the effort to bind enough demons to make the Tower fly, and the quality of Ironforge's parents means there will be no forsaken children to power it with either."

"What?"

"...What?"

Point to the dark lord.





Forgath was having a good day.

His soldiers were improving, his city was growing, the sun was shining, and most importantly a plan was coming to fruition. Yes, today everything was falling into place. Soon, he would repay the trust his minions placed in him with greater power. Today, one of his most trusted would grow mightier, and in turn contribute greater power to his domain. If all went well, she would open a path for others to follow, much as she had in his magic classes. It suited her helpful nature; she was such a sweet pony, really.

Forgath made a mental note to straighten out his inner monologue; something about that last bit didn't have the right panache.

Shaking his head, he strode into the Tower of Despair flanked by Puffy and his other guard of the day, a mare by the name of Juniper Brew ("Ginny" to her friends, apparently). The trio made their way into the deep, where a ritual room had been prepared with an adjoining observation chamber. Yet another of the guard waited beside the door and snapped a salute as he saw Forgath's retinue approach, nodding to Juniper as she took up her own post beside the door. Forgath and Puffy entered and found the last of the preparations were being completed; with a bow, several robed magi lead by one Magus Steady Hoof stepped aside to allow Forgath the final examination. He paced around the ritual room, examining the chalk circle and sigils upon the floor, the charged gem foci dotting the pattern, the three bowls of reagents (bitter roots, coal, and fortified wine) in their places, and last of all the pony standing at the center of the whole thing.

Crystal Rose had grown since she initially arrived as part of the last of the refugees from Sombra's rule; the meek mare once cowering before his presence had quickly shown an interest in and aptitude for magic. Today she was among the most qualified of his magi, and that spark of interest had been kindled into an insatiable hunger. Which is what led to her present position within the circle in the center of the chamber, her light blue fur exposed by a lack of robes and sea-blue mane tied back tightly in a winding bun resembling her namesake. She was trying to look serious, but her nervous excitement was easy enough to read.

"Crystal Rose, are you prepared?"

She nodded up at him, breaking into a rather eager smile. "Yes, Lord Ironblood."

"It is not too late to allow one of the other magi to take your place."

"No. I'm doing this because I'm the most likely to succeed. I've got the most skill with these foci, and I've been meditating on the method in preparation. I have to do this."

Forgath knew that would be the reply, and he nodded as he met her determined gaze with a level one. He knew the look of a mage throwing themselves into a project. He did own a mirror, after all.

"Very well. The preparations are complete and I could find no flaw with the design. We can begin as soon as the final component is in place."

Crystal Rose smiled more widely at that, and lifted a hoof to point to a metal box outside the ritual space. Responding to her call, it flipped itself open. A large, black gem floated out and over to the pair, suspended in the blue aura of her magic. A long and thin cabochon, smoothly curved rather than faceted; one end of the stone tapered to a fine conical point while the other was rounded off, giving it a thin teardrop profile. The light in the room glittered in a six-rayed pattern across its dark surface, making its nature obvious: a star sapphire.

Forgath took it from the air, examining it closely with eye and magic, before setting it in a wire holder atop a pedestal within the circle. "No issues with the cut, infused with your mana, and specific to the ritual. Yes, this is ready as well." His attention turned back to her with a nod. "You know what this will entail. Shall we begin?"

Her tail flicked behind her as she adjusted her weight, working out her nerves. "Yes, Lord."

With a further nod, Forgath stepped from the circle and crossed into the adjoining observation room, closing the door behind him. Separated by glass and enchantments, the rest of the attending magi - monitors, medics, and observers - waited in safety, Puffy among them.

"So, couldn't talk her out of it?" Puffy grinned as the door closed behind him.

"Of course not."

"Are we starting then?"

Forgath nodded, turning to Steady Hoof and the three magi who had taken up positions at the monitoring stations, each with a different magical device - simple tools for simple tasks. "If there are no issues, we begin."

The three nodded back and Steady Hoof activated the speaking stone that connected the two rooms. "Magus Crystal Rose, you may begin."

And so she did.

She bowed her head and let her mana flow into the circle, hooves starting to shimmer with an inner light, orange eyes closed in concentration. One after another, the storage foci were primed and opened their stores to the working, leaving the gems glowing softly as motes of gold light occasionally rose from the chalk lines. When she could feel the mana pull begin to take hold, when it started to gain enough momentum to pull on her internal stores, she directed the flow into the first stage, the portion of the circle that represented the beginning of the ritual itself.

Ritual magic was, essentially, no different than standard spellcasting - save that part of the spell was cast by the ritual itself rather than held in the mind. Complex workings became easier if you didn't have to focus on every bit of it at once, much like how pouring glass into a mold is easier than glassblowing. The lessons on the topic briefly ran through her head as Crystal Rose set her mind to the most important details of the spell, guiding her magic as the ritual gave the majority of it the needed form. She felt a portion of the mana become force and her head was gripped, held in place. Another portion identified and lifted the black star sapphire, holding it aloft before her muzzle.

The second stage began, wrapping the stone in her aura as it was checked and double-checked, small adjustments to its mana content made to bring it more in line with her own internal flow. With the divination complete she opened herself to it, letting her mana reserves circulate, into the gem and back to her in a steady motion. Without realizing it, she matched it to the beat of her heart. The gem was moved higher and tilted, brought closer until the flatter end rested just above her immobilized forehead.

Her mouth felt dry as the third stage waited to begin. She would later note that it was like leaping into a pile of snow; even if you were resolved to do it, the expectation of the shock and cold could still make you hesitate just before the jump - because that was the last point you could change your mind. Steeling herself, focused on her excitement and achievement, she pressed on. The coal in its brazier began to glow an unusual shade of greenish-purple and started to dissolve into smoke without first burning, its dust swept up along the current of mana through the ring. The wine glimmered, shining gold and white beneath its surface. Soft snaps and pops came from the bowl of roots as they gradually dried and withered. The glow of the circle shifted from the orange-gold of her native aura into a dark shade of octarine, and began to roil.

And then there was pain.

From within the sealed observation room, Forgath watched as the sapphire was displaced, pushed briefly outside the world only to pop back in, arriving in a space formerly occupied only by a portion of Crystal Rose’s head. The dark magic got to work even as she cried out; rather than one object simply displacing the other, it sought to fuse the two together, using the flow of her mana through it to twist and grow each into the other. Arcs of mana, both bright and dark, flickered and cracked along the spindle and around its base. She weathered it well, he thought; the ritual still held her, kept her from jerking her head around, though hooves and ears and tail trembled and whimpers followed as the sharp, sudden pain of arrival was replaced by a duller, lingering pain of bonding. And with the expenditure of the last of the reagents - accompanied by a series of crackles from the roots and a soft "whuff" as the wine vanished - the last bit of the ritual worked to heal and balm what had been hurt; willow and aqua vitae were good for both.

The dark magic faded from the air, leaving little more than the lingering scent of burnt fur and a sense of unease. Crystal Rose's hind legs had buckled at the end, leaving her sitting and staring off into space, breathing heavily as she recovered. Jutting from her forehead was the smooth, semi-pointed sapphire gleaming in the magelight. A new scar marred the skin and fur around it in an irregular, twisting, star-like pattern.

After a check with the monitoring magi, Forgath opened the door to the ritual room, walking in and over the inert circle to take a knee beside the sitting pony. "Crystal Rose, can you hear me?"

The mare blinked a few times, her empty gaze still staring slightly upward, not quite focused upon him. It took a moment and a deep breath before she responded, "Y-yes?"

"Good, that's good. Focus on my voice. Do you feel alright?"

"I feel...a little strange. Dizzy."

"That's likely the healing spells; they included spells to dull pain."

"I don't feel pain."

"Then they work. Are you ready to continue?"

"I....yes, I think so."

Forgath nodded, rising back to his full height. "Good. Can you feel the crystal horn?"

"I think so. It's...a little like holding a focus, but...more?" Her eyes slowly crossed as she tried to look up at the point.

"Good. Treat it like a focus; try to work your mana into it. Go sl-"

Her new horn blazed with light before he could say anything else, a rich gold halo forming around it. Forgath took a step back in surprise, rising in the process. Rose gasped, her eyes becoming distant once more. "I....I think...it's working."

Forgath, one hand raised with shield-spell half-formed, watched cautiously as her horn continued to glow. "Alright. Good. Now, ease gently off; we don't want you t-"

"It's working!" Her horn blazed brighter, and soon so did her eyes. Mana currents began to swirl slowly through the room again as she reached out with her newfound power, and Forgath brought his shield into crackling life. "I can see! I can see it all! I...I know!"

Sickly little bubbles of dark magic began to bud from the tip of the horn, some of the aura around her souring. Forgath frowned behind his helmet, starting to push his way through the cloying magic and closer to the mare. "Crystal Rose, can you hear me?"

"The power is mine! Mine! All is within my grasp! The world in the frog of my hoof! No, at the tip of my horn! The universe itself bends to my will - and I will rule it! I will take control of this realm and remake it in my own image!" The mare began to slowly float upward into the air, her lips spreading in an ugly sort of grin, more rictus than any humor.

"Alright, that's enough." Forgath reached forward through the field and prodded her firmly upon the nose with his gauntleted finger. All at once, her magic cut out; she let out a squeak as she fell back to the floor, landing on her bottom.

Her eyes crossed again, this time focused on her nose, before she turned a furious (yet non-glowing) gaze upon Forgath himself. "You dare -!?"

Forgath proceeded to give her a second boop, getting a second squeak.

"H-Hey! Don't d-"

Again, she was booped.

"Eep! S-stop it! Don't touch me! I am the dark-" and a fourth time, "eep!"

Crystal Rose panted quietly, a hoof coming up to rub her nose. She shook her head several times, as if trying to shake her thoughts free. Forgath waited, finger at the ready. Eventually, she looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time since the procedure ended. "...Lord Forgath?"

"Magus Crystal Rose. Are you feeling better?"

"Y-yes, yes I am. What...what was that?"

"A magical surge, which looks to have affected your mind. You were going mad with power."

A light blush lit the mare's cheeks. "I...y-yes, that...that sounds right."

"Do you think you're ready for another trial?"

"Can I get a drink of water first?"

"Of course." Forgath waved in one of the medics, who brought with him a canteen. Crystal Rose was soon drinking happily from it, and only after several large swallows and a satisfied gasp did she pass it back with a nod of thanks.

"Okay. What do I do?"

"Slowly, carefully focus your magic into your new horn. Build a simple light spell, just like when you were learning."

She frowned, scrunching her muzzle as her eyes crossed upon the horn once more. Little by little, her mana flowed - overly-cautious at first, but soon enough the asteria glowed with a smooth gold light from within, the sparkling halo around it once more in place. "I...I think I've got it!"

"Very good. Don't get too excited now; slowly back it off...gentle...there you go." Forgath nodded as she dimmed the light, and then cut power to the spell. "I think it's safe to say this is a successful experiment."

Rose practically beamed at that, and so intense was her pride that her horn began tossing little sparks from it - at least until she noticed and tamped down on her manaflow. Forgath chuckled softly. "So, it is easier? Can you sense through it?"

"Mmmm...yes; I think I'm going to need time to adjust, but it's really easy to push my mana through, and I'm getting some sort of feeling from it; it's...weird."

"Alright. For the next few days you will be placed under observation and allowed only limited exposure to external magic; we don't know what the limits of the focus will be, and an overload could be disastrous." At this, the mare nodded several times. "After that, we will ease you back into magical practice; it shouldn't take much time at all with your skill, you're just adapting to a new tool. But we're going to do it gradually and under observation - correct?"

Crystal Rose straightened her back, giving a nod. "Yes, Lord Forgath; I won't try practicing on my own."

"Very good. Then I shall leave you in the capable hooves of the healers and the rest of the magi. Be careful; it would be a shame to lose such a promising mage."

Another beaming smile, and a nod. "Yes, Lord Forgath. Can I...get some sleep once we're done? I'm feeling kind of tired."

"So long as the healers say so, I think it should be fine."

She nodded, and Forgath turned to leave. While the healers rushed back in, Forgath paused beside the exit, leaning down towards Steady Hoof as he entered from the observation room, laying a hand on his robed shoulder and muttering quietly. "I want her under watch every moment of the day for the next week, no exceptions. If she has another episode like we just witnessed, she will need to be stopped swiftly, by any means necessary."

The stallion nodded his head, blond mane bobbing over pale red fur as the rest of his team moved past the pair to check on the new unicorn. "We'll have a healer and a guard with her the whole time. You'll be alerted if there are any problems."

"Good. Carry on, then."

He gave another nod, following the others and joining the examination.





Forgath finally took his leave, his escort of two falling into step on either side. Puffy waited only until she judged that they were far enough away to start in. "So. I couldn’t help but notice you were awfully sweet with Crystal Rose…”

Forgath huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.  After the surge she needed to be pulled back to reality.  I simply used the most expedient way to do so.  If it had failed, I would have used other means, including rendering her unconscious.”

Puffy bumped her armored shoulder against his armored thigh. “Aw, you don’t have to be shy about it; I know you like her.  She is a sweetie, isn’t she?”

“She is a valued minion and skilled mage, yes.  Her ‘sweetness’ is not a factor to the quality of her minionhood.”

“Uh-huh. And gentling her into it, making sure she had ample opportunity to change her mind and not do the dangerous dark magic ritual was…just practical?”

“That is correct.”  Forgath did not waver.  He meant it.  It was entirely practical.  He wanted her to live and be well; dead minions are much less effective.

“...Think she's going to be alright?"

"I do. You ponies are tougher than you look. Still, that horn's roots go deep, and it's now a gap in her natural defenses; she will need to build up her resistance anew. We're going to need her to keep away from dark magic for a time, lest it do damage to her thinking."

"That shouldn't be too hard."

"Indeed, and the benefits will be well worth it if she doesn't die horribly. What do you think? Want to volunteer for the next trial?"

"Noooo, thank you. I'd just as soon keep my skull intact, thanks."

"I'm rather sure hers is still in one piece, there's just a new addition to it. In both directions."

"First, gross. Second, is that going to be a problem? Getting poked in the brain isn't usually a good thing."

"Heh, it shouldn't do that. It's now connected, that's all. And since the procedure should have also strengthened both the crystal itself as well as her skull, I don't think she's at risk of injury. Well, no more than without."

"What about you? Gonna get one installed under that helmet?"

"Mmmm, no, I don't think so. I do not believe it would blend well with my current foci - and in the unlikely event that I went mad with power, none of you would be able to restrain me. It is too great a risk to Ironforge and my minions, and too little gain."

"...How would we tell?"

"Pardon?"

"Nothing!"

"Hm. Now that you mention it though, you crystal ponies are fairly similar to gem foci already. You naturally store a good deal of mana, and I have noticed the way that you get more crystal-like when you're channeling mana through your bodies. Perhaps I could use you as a casting focus."

Puffy broke into a wide grin. "Oh? You want to use me, Forgy?"

Juniper let out a loud snort, which turned into a coughing fit shortly thereafter. Forgath huffed behind his helm; while he walked into it, that was a point for the pony. Tie game.

"Enough. Now that the ritual is done, we have logistics to tend to. Send a runner to fetch Plump Helmet and Axe Questions while I gather the papers; now that the lumber camps to the south are active, we need to discuss their output and contrast the wood quality to the tower cap lumber being grown beneath Ironforge."

Puffy nodded, leaving Ginny to guard the door outside the study as she rushed off. She was pleased with herself, and not just for the joke. Forgath always seemed happier when he was getting stuff done, and he'd spent a lot of effort with Rose and the rest to get the ritual into a workable form. Only time would tell if it would pay off, but for now? Her Dark Lord was satisfied, and that was nice.
> He Meets a Special Mare. (AB 975)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

AB 996

"Oh! How did you two first meet?"

"Ah, I think that story will have to wait."

"Awww, but why?"

"Because your sister is going to be home soon, and she'd hate to miss it."

As if on cue, the pair heard the door to their apartments opening and Tourmaline calling out, "I'm home!" Shady grinned excitedly at her father before rushing off with beating wings to hurry Tourmaline along so storytime could continue. Soon enough, the trio were back in Forgath's study - two foals on a stout couch, Forgath in his chair.

"So, let me tell you about how I met your mother..."





AB 975

It was a crisp summer morning and Tranquil Stand was enjoying every moment of it. The sprawling city of Ironforge around her was flush with life and cheer; ponies of all stripes - even a few zebras - milled about the chilly streets or visited one of the many "hot spots" where the temperature was more tolerable for their southern kin. The most popular would always be the central plaza with its many shops and wide open spaces (surrounding the everburning Pillar), but smaller courtyards and even parks and pools had cropped up over the years, and they saw ever-growing popularity in the summers - cultural osmosis from Equestria, no doubt. Not that that was a bad thing; if nothing else, it made for amusing tourist reactions. She smirked to herself as she remembered the first time she'd seen an Equestrian getting a look at what temperature range the average Ironforger considered "bathing suit weather".

Her path took her to the plaza first, and she stopped to buy herself a pasty of some sort - vegetables and mushrooms spiced and cooked inside a layer of dough folded into a half-circle - which she proceeded to munch on her way up Mane Street The Path of Despair.





"Dad, only you call it that. It's Mane Street."

"The Path of Despair is its official name, and everyone knows that."

"How do you know about what she was eating anyway? You weren't there."

"Wait and see, wait and see. Ahem."





Tranquil Stand strode along in her new armor, the armor of the tower guard. Her chest, barrel, hips, and forelegs were clad in black plate, her blond mane was hidden away beneath an open-fronted black helmet, and the steady tap of her metal shoes against the stones of the Path rang out with pride. This was the first day of her first posting; she had spent her whole life looking forward to this moment.

First her schooling and her magic training, then her enrollment and specialized spellbreaking courses; all of it was so she could become part of the elite Tower Guard, the most trusted guardians, Forgath Ironblood's Right Hoof Hand-





"Hoof!"

"Hand!"

"Hoof!"

"Hand!"

"Okay, that's enough, you two."





- Forgath's Champions, who stood ready to deal with any threat to Ironforge. Not just Guard or Watch but those serving directly under Forgath, securing the tower and handling missions only the best could handle! And she was now one of them! The thought made her so giddy that she had begun to prance in place; it was only the chuckles of an older mare passing by that brought her back to reality. With a bit of a flush to her cheeks and a quicker pace, she resumed her march to the tower, scarfing the last of her food on the way.

The Tower itself looming before her did nothing to curb her excitement; despite being an enormous monument of dark stone and iron it almost felt like coming home, like she'd finally gotten to where she belonged. She nodded to the set of four guards posted at the entrance, and after a quick verification was accompanied inside by one of them - a red-maned thestral who introduced himself as Eternal Reward.

In short order, she was brought into the wide chamber that served as Forgath's throne room, and there the man himself was waiting. Eternal Reward took up a respectful post at the inside of the doors opposite another guard; the new recruit was allowed to approach on her own. Just a touch of anxiety joined Tranquil's excitement, seeing the dark-armored form of her new boss - new boss! - up close was enough to curb the urge to prance and help her maintain outward tranquility. She snapped to attention beside his large table, hooves clicking together. "Tranquil Stand, reporting for duty."

Forgath turned from the papers upon the great round table to regard her, facing her as he stood. His crimson gaze moved briefly over her form, taking in the sight of his most recently elevated minion. "Tower Guard Tranquil Stand. You have passed all the trials set before you, and so now stand before me in my service."

"Yes, Lord!"

His armored head tilted slightly to one side. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

"Pardon, Lord?" Her own head tilted slightly in turn.

Forgath lifted a hand towards his face and made a brushing motion towards the cheek of his helmet. It took Tranquil a moment to catch on, before her eyes widened and a hoof lifted to rapidly brush away the crumbs lingering in the fur around her lips.





"Oh no!" Shady's eyes widened, hooves rising to her mouth in sympathy.

"Oh yes. First day on the job, and I was able to tell both what she had and where she got it. There was a tiny bit of cave carrot just to the left-"

"And you instantly fell for her due to her good taste in pasties?" Tourmaline perked an eyebrow with a little smirk.

"Heh, no. That...would take some time yet. She was still so young then, and I am...less young. Let me finish."





Forgath waited quietly, smiling behind his helm as she frantically tidied up, snapping back to attention afterward. "A-apologies, Lord!"

"Accepted, so long as you pay closer attention to your grooming in the future. The Tower Guard mustn't be seen as undisciplined."

"Of course, Lord!"

Forgath nodded. "Good. Then you are fit and able to begin your duties?"

"Yes, Lord!"

"Excellent. Your first task will begin immediately."

"How may I serve?"

Forgath returned to his seat. "We have an infestation. You will clean it out."

Tranquil blinked, but kept her calm "...Excuse me, Lord?"

"It will be no easy task; it never is. The vermin slipped inside at some point and has been skulking about. Finding them will not be a problem, but I believe the removal will be challenging even for a mare of your capabilities." He took up his pen again, and got back to his paperwork.

Tranquil took a deep breath, and tilted her head slightly. "Sir, is this not something we should call an exterminator for?"

"I tried; they said they couldn't help. Thus, it falls to the guard."

"Alright...may I have more information, my Lord?"

"Certainly. He's right over there, disguised as a guard." Forgath flippantly waved towards the pair at the main door.

Tranquil turned her attention to the door just in time to see the second guard fling his helmet at Eternal Reward (who caught it) and somehow doff the rest of his armor in one sweep of a hoof. As it clattered into a pile, it revealed a canary-yellow pony with a brilliant blue mane wearing a red-and-white embroidered doublet, an enormous lace collar, and pair of puffy purple breeches. He stood up upon two hooves, one forehoof raised outstretched and pointed at the Dark Lord, the other curled back and over his head in the style of Prench fencers.





"Ooh, a hero!"

"Ssh!"





As loud as the pony's fashion sense was, it was not as loud as his voice. Still posing, he vociferated, "Vile fiend! Evil tyrant! How did you know it was me, the great CUNNING RUSE‽"

Forgath dipped his pen back into the inkwell, his eyes never leaving the present bit of paperwork - a report on lumber shipments from the south. "I do not have a tower guard that is yellow."

"You don't‽ Curses! You may have seen through my plan, but your tyranny will not last! The might of my rapier will be your doom!"

"You forgot it in the supply closet where you obtained the spare guard armor."

"I...did‽"

"You did. Your hoof is empty."

Cunning Ruse took a moment to consider his empty, outstretched forehoof. So did the guards in the room.

"Hmm. All-on's Eye!" Shouting thus, he burst back through the door and began to gallop off down the hallway.

Tranquil stared, transfixed by...whatever that was, before Forgath cleared his throat.

"Perhaps you should go after him?"

Tranquil whinnied in distress, ran for the door, paused to spin and salute again, then exited and gave chase, shouting after him, "Stop! You, with the ruffles, stop! And it's pronounced allons-y!"

Forgath allowed himself a chuckle as the hooves retreated out of earshot.

Gently closing the door, Eternal Reward made his way to the table. "Is that really wise, my lord? Setting the rookie against a hero?"

"Oh, it's not just wise, it's ideal. He won't hurt anyone; he's far too absurdist for that. He will, however, prove all but impossible to catch. If she is very lucky, she will corner him higher up the Tower and he will defenestrate himself."

"He doesn't have wings, my Lord."

"Of course not; he'll land in a conveniently-placed mushroom cart or some other nonsense; heroes don't die when thrown off a tower, even if they're the ones doing the throwing."

"Hm. I suppose that follows, but something seems wrong about that."

"Indeed. Will that be all, Eternal Reward?"

The guard shook his head. "Almost. Why did you just let him stand there, my Lord?"

"Because I knew if I did, he would willingly stand and watch me do paperwork until he sensed an opening. I never gave him one; he stood there for four hours. He wasn't even close enough to read anything."

Eternal Reward let out a disdainful snort. "So he learned nothing and you punished him with boredom?"

"That is correct. And that is the second reason why it is good that our new recruit is chasing him around."

"Lord?"

"They both needed the excitement. Let them have their fun; he will escape, she will learn not to underestimate heroes, and in the meantime a guard is moving his magic rapier somewhere else for safe-keeping. I had a runner take a letter to that effect two hours ago."

"Safe-keeping, Lord?"

"Indeed. The Dungeon of Frost and Spiders was getting a little overrun, so the guard has been instructed to toss it down one of the clefts that leads there. Having a band of heroes run through it should clear things up; if he goes soon there will even be time to gather a batch of ice spider eggs for the mage college." Forgath set aside his pen, waving a hand briefly over his bit of paper to dry the ink.

"And if he delays?"

"They'll have hatched."

"Hm. Amusing."

"Quite."

"One last question, Lord?"

"Certainly."

"Are you sure she won't fall for his roguish charms?"  

"Certain."

"Twenty silver."  A small smirk stretched Eternal’s lips.

Forgath chuckled. "Done; I believe you overestimate him."

"We shall see."





"Did he?  Overestimate the hero, I mean?"

"He did. Eternal Reward was a good sport and paid the next day. Your mother did not like that hero.

"Oh, oh, did he make stupid mistakes and get himself killed? Or maybe a fate worse than death?"

"No, I would not refer to his spouse that way. She was the best thing that ever happened to him."

"...What?"

"He got married a few years later, and his wife made him quit being a hero. They have a son; he's about your sister's age."

"He is? Tourmaline, do you know him?"

"I dunno. What's his colt's name, Dad?"

"Cunning Flan - after his mother, Caramel Flan. He takes after her."

"Oh! Yeah, I know Flan! We have math together."

Forgath nodded. "To end the story, Tranquil Stand did not corner him, but he did manage to defenestrate himself. She returned both embarrassed and exhausted by the encounter, and resolved to best him the next time. And that, my children, is how I met your mother."