//------------------------------//
// He Raises a Camp (10 BNM) 
// Story: In an Effort to Stay Evil 
// by Empirical Deduction 
//------------------------------//

"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?"