All around the table, ponies stared. Maple watched in anxious rapture, Shinespark looked impressed, Slipstream relaxed as if reading a book, and Valey's ears were perked straight, the batpony fixated on the knowledge that Wallace had won the tournament. Morena folded her forelegs, judging everyone's reactions, and Diego looked on with a casual grin.
"You made that up," Starlight said, pointing a hoof.
Maple blinked rapidly, glancing from Starlight to Morena and quickly feeling her heart clench as she realized there was a hint of a smile behind Morena's measured expression. She opened her mouth, trying twice before getting words out. "You didn't, did you? That... no..."
"What makes you think that?" the purple mare asked Starlight, leaning back and putting her forelegs behind her head, raising a carefree eyebrow. "Too unrealistic?"
"No." Starlight levelly met her gaze, ignoring the ponies to either side of her. "You told us far too easily. Both of you. Things like that would hurt to remember if they really happened, and you wouldn't just tell them to complete strangers."
"Wallace?" Maple glanced up, looking to the most powerful figure at the table, feeling like she had had a rug yanked out from under her after becoming fully invested in the stories. "Those were true, weren't they?"
Wallace inclined his speckled, snowy head. "I can see how you feel, and you are looking at this the wrong way, little one! What is history if not a tool to teach, warn and inspire? Yes, my teammates' stories have been embellished, but show me a good story that doesn't deserve it! Their truth is in their message, and that is this: anything can change, from people to history itself. Morena and Diego became fearless adventurers who stand side by side, court thrills and danger and mete out justice as an inspiration to all! Their stories are theirs to shape and craft, as is mine to me, cut from the raw depths of hardship, despair and second chances. We speak not in facts but emotions, a language that is felt and not heard and holds tremendous power to change the world for good! But if facts are all you can see, the ones that matter are that long ago, I saved both of their lives and inspired their souls, and we have been truest friends ever since."
Morena nodded, eyes closed. "Sage words for a big lug. So what if I fudged some places and numbers to make it more interesting?"
"The truth is," Diego continued with patient understanding, "the ponies who are the bottom of society don't live lives that are all that interesting or inspiring. I talked up getting abandoned earlier, and how I had that friend who bailed because his mom was just lousy and ignoring him? That was actually based on me. My mom was a pleasure mare who had other things to worry about, and there's a whole lot of ponies and griffons up north just trying to get along who can say exactly the same thing."
Maple watched, biting her lip.
Diego shrugged. "Of course, for all you know that could be just another embellishment on a story. That variation would ring truer up where it's more common and relatable, so maybe I'd tell it that way if I was visiting Gyre. The thing Wallace is getting at is that there are just some things you can't know, that don't matter, and that still wouldn't matter even if you went to a huge amount of effort to find them out."
"It's all fine to me," Slipstream offered, lifting a wing. "I'm just staying silent because I enjoy the stories. I've never done anything particularly incredible, so listening to both you and these ponies, all that matters is that it's exciting."
"That's the spirit!" Morena smirked, stretching.
"...Did you at least have a foal?" Maple asked, watching Morena with her head timidly drawn back.
"I did," the other earth pony sighed, scratching at the back of her neck. "And she got a good foalhood, thanks to Wallace. Now, though..." Her eyes narrowed, and she glared at Starlight. "That's the kind of story I wait to tell until we're better friends." Instantly, she went back to overly carefree. "So, we've told you our sob stories. Tell us about Ironridge!"
Diego nodded along. "And in case you didn't notice, we care more about the general idea than what literally happened. Don't leave out anything epic, and emphasize everything that was heroic or villainous!"
Wallace gave him a knowing grin. "After how easily they swallowed your two stories, something tells me that won't even be necessary! Please, begin away! My ears are dying to hear!"
"Hey, hold up," Valey interrupted, sitting stiffly in her chair. "That stuff with this tournament thing? You at least know about it, right? Because I heard some things from some other dudes who were shadier and shadier the more I think about them, and wouldn't mind some straight answers..."
Maple glanced over at her. "This is the tournament we saw you fighting in when Meltdown found us, right, Wallace? It keeps getting talked about but I don't really understand it. What's it about?"
"Know about it?" Wallace's grin twinkled. "I wasn't kidding when I said I won! However, from the look in your eyes, it will take quite a while to talk you out of it, and I agree with Morena! Regale us with the tales of yon city!"
Valey groaned, slumping to the table as Morena looked at her in concern. "Guess that's the answer I'll get from everyone..."
Before anyone could continue, the food arrived. Towed on a cart by the plucky pink waitress, Wallace's portion was massive, likely a special just for him. Morena's dish was almost equally so, and while Diego's was more modest Maple was still certain it was more than she could pack away at her hungriest.
"Yes! That's what I'm talking about!" Morena snarled, bearing down on her food with salivating, barbaric fury. Planting both forehooves on the table, she dipped in and began to yank and chew off ear-sized bites with only her muzzle, the waitress averting her eyes as she brought out the rest. Diego chuckled, and Wallace gave a fond stretch before turning to his own.
Maple and her friends had a combination platter together to share from, every item crispy and unmarked and wafting foreign, interesting smells. She trusted her nose and sense of adventure, eyes widening when Shinespark commented in surprise that she had a meat dish, but after a half minute's pause to ensure her stomach felt fine and her tongue was enjoying it, she went back and tried some more.
"Don't eat too much of that," Shinespark cautioned, chewing on a piece of her own. "If you're not accustomed to it, it can take a while for your digestive system to make the switch. Take it slowly, or you'll have a long night tonight."
"This is a plant," Starlight muttered, holding up something she was eating. "I think."
Valey ate too, keeping silent as Maple and Shinespark told bits and pieces of Ironridge between mouthfuls. As the story wore on and the sun drew lower, however, Maple started to notice Morena stealing glances at her with increasing frequency, lip curling more and more each time.
"...You don't like bats either, huh?" Valey asked, noticing too.
"There's something not right about you," Morena stated, as if Valey hadn't said anything. "Your movements are wrong."
"Buh?" Valey blinked. "You think? I had a ridiculously bad day yesterday, and am stupidly cramped like you wouldn't believe. Probably gonna be laid up for a week after this..."
Morena sharply stood up. "Hold this," she instructed, pushing her mostly-eaten platter toward Diego before walking around the table.
"Woah, what the...?" Valey flinched back as she approached, but wasn't limber enough to get out of the way. "Hey!"
Two burly purple forelimbs grasped her, and Maple and Slipstream gasped as she was yanked from her chair, flipped over in midair, and dropped belly-up on the table with an almost militaristic grace. Valey squirmed and protested, but Morena was impossible to escape, jumping around to the cleared area. "Hold still," she muttered, rearing up and jabbing both forehooves into Valey's sides.
"What are you doing?" Maple asked tensely, feeling an instinct to fight and hearing Shinespark's horn come aglow, yet knowing they would be pointlessly outmatched.
"Figuring out her problem," Morena grunted, shifting her hooves and jabbing several more places, holding and measuring. She nodded back at the skeleton on her flank, adding, "I know pony anatomy, and something's not right here."
"You think!?" Valey hissed, rigid against the table. "Ow, that doesn't feel nice! Leggo!"
Morena frowned harder and harder as she continued to check Valey's muscles. "What did you do, lose a fight with a Mistvale Monk?"
"A what? No!" Valey gritted her teeth. "I slept in a cold, tiny cave and flew and ran around for way too stinking long!"
"What's a Mistvale Monk?" Maple asked, watching with fascination and concern.
Diego shook his head, looking forlorn. "Sarosians who live up in the Misty Mountains. Specifically, high-ranking priests and clerics of the religious order they have up there to the Night Mother. Every one of them is trained in this really nasty form of martial arts that uses precise strikes as nerve attacks to disrupt an opponent's fighting technique. The most elite ones can even get through armor sometimes, and if they're feeling vindictive, they can mess you up real bad with complete paralysis and other long-lasting side effects. Fortunately they tend to keep to themselves, but you really don't want to mess with them unless you're very prepared."
Valey's eyes were wide enough to be completely round. "Oh bananas."
"What?" Maple sucked in a breath. "Valey, you didn't fight one of those, did you?"
"No, I..." Valey winced. "Aaargh! I'm gonna dunk that crone so hard the next time I see his stupid face..."
"Well," Morena said, sighing and stepping back. "This could be a problem."