//------------------------------//
// Chipped Shields Log 
// Story: Memories Of The Flask 
// by WindigogoGadget 
//------------------------------//

We encountered one of those towns that have been circulating among the ranks, dubbed Enchanted Villages by our less creative soldiers. 

It was to be a routine patrol, to commence within first light and to end on the seventh day when our group would have returned home as the march would have ended. The situation was a usual exercise for the soldiers right up until the fourth light when the midday came and we had followed the typical trail that was now interrupted by a village. It was an impossibility for the village to have been built- all previous patrols made no mention of construction or settlers, and it was large, massive like the Pegasus cloud-cities.

Although we had accounts of villages being friendly, we were alert at all times and treated the locals with respect and dignity, even the more inequine sorts. But something was wrong. The natives were just as alert as we were, like we were the monsters and not the ones that were openly walking among them like shepherds and their flock. They hid their foals from us, but still traded with us, still talked with us- respected us. 

Then their soldiers surrounded us. We had walked in on the secondary capitol, Changing Views as it was once known by the natives. They feared us because news had reached not just them, but every single town that existed, of the burning ruins of one of their cities. A burning caused by a pony with wings and horn. 

I am resigning immediately, whether or not it be by the grains of time or plunging myself on a blade. I am a Captain no more.