//------------------------------// // He Teaches Magic (4 BNM) // Story: In an Effort to Stay Evil // by Empirical Deduction //------------------------------// 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.