18 May, 5 CE 195
7th Patrol, Sgt. Gray Swift, commanding.
The initial exploration sweep of the region beyond the new portal revealed little to no life on the new world, per expectations of a fresh world. Atmosphere is equine-friendly, daily cycle is regular, roughly approximate to Equestrian standard, and the heavens seem to be self-regulating, barring discovery of any native inhabitants discovered after this writing.
This seems unlikely; there isn't even any plant life to speak of. All living matter encountered during our initial investigations are clearly spillover from the portal itself. The seedlings blown in from the wide-open portal are taking vigorous root, and there is a thickening mat of grass and other intrepid plantlife spreading around the immediate vicinity of our hoofhold.
Our thaumic specialists report a strong and growing magical background to this new world. It's a strong one, almost as strong as Equestria herself. Definitely stronger than Holstein. If there are ponies looking to settle a fresh world, this is definitely a strong candidate. In fact, I'd say that in a generation or two, this place will probably start experiencing wild-magic surges which could make it a source of threats to Holstein herself.
20 May, 5 CE 195
7th Patrol, Sgt. Gray Swift, commanding.
OK, so we're not alone on this glorified cindercone. The outer patrol has come across hoofprints, and returning from that discovery, they found more of them crossing their back-track. Not much in terms of thaumic residual on those prints, but the specialists are pretty sure that whatever made them, they didn't come out of our portal.
Also, the hoofprints were surprisingly mixed. They say it looked like some pony-type prints, but also some different-looking impressions which might have been something equine but not exactly equine. At least one set of tracks was cloven-hooved. Too big to be deer, though.
We're calling for reinforcements, and pulling back into a defendable perimeter.
21 May, 5 CE 195
Third Patrol Group, Master Sgt. Gull Wing, commanding.
After Sgt. Swift panicked, the rest of the Patrol Group was sent through the new portal, to reinforce our hoof-hold, and from an excess of caution in the face of possible contact. I've seen nothing of note so far, but my additional specialists have taken soundings, and confirm that there's a second portal pinging on the thaumic landscape. This new world may be a natural crossroads. I've encouraged the specialists to continue taking soundings, to see if this is the full extent of the connectivity this new place has with the Chain. The two known portals seem to be unusually close together – they've done some rudimentary triangulation – as much as we could offer them inside of our perimeter – and they think the second portal may be only a couple day's march east of here.
I've put up pegasi patrols to search the region from the air, and the heck with protocol. This world has plenty of magic, more than enough to keep winged ponies in flight for as long as we need them aloft.
23 May, 5 CE 195
Third Patrol Group, Master Sgt. Gull Wing, commanding.
Nothing has been spotted around the second portal, but the overflight ponies report a general 'spookiness' and general sense of unease. The second portal is uncontrolled and wide-open, and hasn't been locked down even to the extent that our portal has been secured. There isn't that much growth around the open portal, but we can't be too sure of what exactly is going on just yet. I'm moving a reinforced patrol forward to evaluate the second portal at a cautious distance, with enough magical throw-weight to protect my ponies if things go sideways.
25 May, 5 CE 195
Third Patrol Group, Master Sgt. Gull Wing, commanding.
I've displaced forward to join the 9th Patrol at the second portal, who have been acting increasingly spooked and shaky. Night sentries have been scared away from their posts twice in the last two nights, reporting phantasms and bogarts. Strange hoofprints have been found, but nothing stays put long enough to capture, or even get a good photo with the substandard equipment that the EUP insists on keeping in inventory. Can I please make another plea for decent civilian equipment?
The specialists describe the thaumic radiation coming out of the second portal as weak, even 'low-magic'. But they also say there's something subtly wrong with the readings, like there might be an undertone of dark magic, or something like that. I don't understand how magic can be both weak and 'dark', I thought the two states were exclusive of each other, but I guess that's what makes me a pegasus, and them the unicorns.
Until they can give me a straight answer, I'm not sending anypony through that portal. I'm not about to lose anypony to a Tartarus.
27 May, 5 CE 195
Third Patrol Group, Master Sgt. Gull Wing, commanding.
After another pair of nights of the night guard being stampeded again and again by spooks and bogarts, I was losing patience, and having difficulty explaining myself to command on the far side of the other portal into Holstein. I was beginning to fear that I'd have to send an exploratory patrol into the mystery portal, and damn the dangers.
That was when this tubby little blue earth pony came trotting right through the portal, walked right up to my day guard and the specialists, and introduced herself in Equuish, saying, and I swear this is verbatim, "the Equestrian Long Patrol I presume?" She clearly knew the classics down cold. Then she gave my ponies a valid Foreign Service code sign.
Six months out of date, granted, but still valid. They went and got me, because the rankers aren't need to know on the codes. We were lucky that I was on site, because I had barely qualified for clearance on my last evaluation.
Agent Cup Cake ordered us to pull back our perimeter and to stop scaring the natives. I told her that the Foreign Service doesn't give orders to the Long Patrol. She gave me a look that could curdle milk in the teat, and pealed a mighty tantrum over my aching ears.
I finally ran out of patience, and before my eardrums were permanently damaged, I gave up, and ordered my ponies to return to the perimeter around the first portal. That little mare – who looks like one of my sister's cronies if you threw her into the bush for a year and a half to live among the savages and denied them mane-care products - just turned around as if she was shopping at the local Barnyard Bargains and trotted right back through the portal into whatever Tartarus lies over there.
Where the hay is 'Tambelon', and why is all this need-to-know anyways?
16 June, 5 CE 195
Third Patrol Group, Master Sgt. Gull Wing, commanding.
The last fortnight of occasional mystery messages left at the edge of our forward perimeter ended this morning with the reappearance of our mystery Foreign Service pony, with a friend. Cup Cake was spotted by the outer perimeter at 0915, closely followed by a large, awkward-looking orange stallion. He was well-armed, but not barded, and was carrying the following inventory: one lance, infantry; a battle-axe; one hoof-punch dagger; five throwing-knives hidden in his tail; two more holdout blades in his mane, which my mares would not have found if Agent Cup Cake hadn't prompted them.
And a mid-size chest containing roughly two hundred and thirty-some loose-bound manuscripts and an enchanted sigil which the agent informed us was to be put into the possession of an authorized representative of the Peytral for any future negotiation with the Tambelonian authorities beyond the portal.
For now, we're interning her associate, but the spooks from the Foreign Service have taken the Agent into custody, along with her case full of documents. They're asking for the associate, too - should we turn over this 'Carrot Cake'? The Tambelonians might want him, and take it amiss if he disappears into the depths of the Foreign Service, never to be seen again.
From the archives of the EUP, Holstein Command, Long Patrol; marked Top Secret Codeword: Family Business; released to the Restricted Archives 29/11/196/5 by order of EUP Restricted Archive Control, authorization number #4451, Senior Archivist Dusty Shelves , authorizing.