My name is Peti... This is stupid. This isn't the training journal anymore, its my own. I don't have to follow any grading criteria. I'm calling myself PS. Its not really PS, but its what I grew up as, and seeing as my name is actually pretty embarrassing, and my profession depends mostly on my reputation, my name is PS. From what they tell me, I am from the last officially graduating class of hunters of the Guild. Ever since I was a little boy all I could dream about was becoming a hunter. Just imagine: If I was born just a year later, none of this could be possible. I shudder at the thought. I'm pretty sure there will still be hunters. There has to be hunters. What are they gonna do the next time some dragon decides to use a mountain for a sleeping hole? Send some civilians up there to go talk to it? No. We are needed.
Anyway, my graduation ceremony was typical. The Guildmaster handed us our diplomas, which are actually just maps to the guild hall we have to report to. We drank a bit, ate a ton, and partied all night. By "we" i mean mostly they did. I usually wasn't invited to those kinds of things. The next day I set off on the adventure which should eventually be the rest of my life. So far so good. I was assigned the Hunter Lodge in Ponyville, which is odd. When I showed my classmates my diploma, they - along with me - were surprised there even was a hall there. Some felt sorry for me, but I think its the best I could ask for. In a busy hall like Canterlot's, hunters have to compete for the same monster assignments, and bad or new hunters sometimes can't fulfill their quotas. This Ponyville Hall sounds like a quiet enough place so that I'd have enough hunts to myself, but its also not so remote that the hall wouldn't have running water like Appaloosa's.
The trip was, well, a trip. In typical hunter tradition, the Guild gives us absolutely no money, no supplies, no gear other than the beat up old training armor I've been wearing for years and a really cheap weapon. My armor, although old, is still as good as it was when I first got it. We trainees were never allowed to hunt the big game and therefore could not make armor using actual monster parts; instead we had to do guild missions for armor tickets, which we then traded in for armor pieces. Missions consisted of hauling the gear of the real hunters around as they hunted, doing chores around the academy, and the occasional venture into the woods for herbs and materials. I managed to get my whole set doing such missions on my spare time: some boots with a plate of metal on the front, a pretty good looking armored jacket, and the metal plated belt. However, this armor set was only available with a plaid surcoat. It was supposed to resemble a kilt, but everyone agrees its just a lazy skirt.
As for the weapon I was gifted? I figured since bowguns are the norm, why not leave with a rare graduation present? I picked the Steel Greatsword. Absolutely everyone else in my class picked the bowgun. Its depressing. This is what hunting has devolved into.
When i was a kid, i saw a group of hunters parade down the city. They were walking alongside a cart with some ugly monster tied up inside. One hunter in the group caught my attention. He was wearing the shiniest metal armor i have ever seen, but some plates had actual pieces of a red dragon sticking out of it. Somehow, scales of an actual dragon had been attached to his armor, causing a nice contrast of nature against the artificial steel. The scales were also set up in such a way so that the boots looked like the claws of a dragon, the back looked like the plated wings, and the helmet looked like a head. He simply looked like a smaller dragon, come to think of it, but the thing I remember clearly about him was his sword, strapped to his back. It was also red and had the same designs as the armor, but it was big. Very Big. Strapped on his back it spanned his entire length, and stuck out a bit more. It looked like the lower jaw of a dragon, flattened and decorated with even MORE spikes and teeth than normal. That hunter not only hunted dragons, he practically became one. Ever since then I have wanted to be him. Not just another hunter, I wanted to be THAT hunter. Same armor, same weapon, same general mindset. My kilt armor and plain metal sword weren't even close, but it was a start.
However, once admitted to be a hunter in the academy, things proved to be slower than I thought. The training academy didn't even introduce weapons until the second year, and they were exclusively the light, medium, and heavy bowguns. Swords, hammers, spears, things that in my opinion looked cool and exciting to use were being "cycled out" because they were "archaic." The guild thought that if you could hunt a monster from far away, why would you hunt it from up close? Who could argue? The hunter fatality rate had drastically reduced ever since they focused more on bowguns.
Still, I took as many electives as possible dealing with melee weapons. You could say that affected my grades, because well, I never really learned or cared about the bowguns. Oh man that one time I failed a quiz because I forgot to actually load arrows into the gun, that's something I hope nobody remembers.
Maybe that's why they sent me here to Ponyville. I'm an embarrassment. Some kid who hung out with the old men, the grandpas of hunting, and used their stupid sticks and stones instead of the modern technology everyone else used. Maybe they didn't want the public to see me. I hear the hunters at Los Pegasus got a red carpet reception. The hunters that stayed in Canterlot were given special ranks by Celestia herself. Me? I had to take the two day hike to Ponyville by myself, to a Gathering Hall nobody knew existed, and what I found wasn't quite the welcome i was expecting at all.
Nobody actually noticed me arrive today. I saw ponies going around, doing their pony things, but none of them really cared too much about a fully armored pony walking the streets. I saw a mule with a cart pushing it around hurriedly, but I don't think he was going anywhere. I saw a pony outside a store with a big fan as a sign, and another pony tending a shop that sold quills and sofas. Seriously. I saw a house carved into a tree and another one that looked like one of those merry go rounds that I've seen in carnivals. That's not the strangest thing, though. I'm no stranger to maps. As a hunter, map reading was a required class all four years. But ill tell you, when I followed the map to the best of my ability and arrived at the spot where the Hunter's Hall should have been, only to find I had accidentally stumbled into a bakery, suddenly I regretted skipping all those days of classes.
Turns out the hunter hall was the bakery, uh, is the bakery. I figured since I'm completely lost at this point: there's no harm in asking, there's no better place to start than the building right in front of me, and hell, the last thing I had eaten was a crusty old ration wheat biscuit, a bakery was the perfect place to be inside right then.
As soon as I walked in, though, the lady in the counter recognized my armor and started jumping around talking a bit too fast for me. There was another pony in some sort of candystriper outfit around there too, but as soon as he saw me he bolted into the kitchen.
"Oh my goodness! You're a hunter, aren't you! We got a special discount for hunters, don'tcha know!"
"A...Actually," it was hard to respond. Now that I think about it, this lady was the first non hunter pony I had talked to in two years or so, "I'm trying to find the Hunter's Lodge in this town. Any idea where it would be?"
"Well look around, you're standing in it!"
At this point, a fully armored hunter came out of the kitchen. He was wearing a thick black leather vest armor with spikes all around. On his head was a steel helmet, covered in leather, and had a very punk style Mohawk jutting out from the top. It wasn't part of the helmet, I could see the hole where his actual hair stuck out. His extremely pronounced jaw and height made the whole setup look very intimidating. Even though the pants and belt were leather on the outside, you could see the areas that were clearly reinforced with steel. This guy was undoubtedly a seasoned hunter. His eyes were intense as he stared me down.
Man, where do I get armor like that, its crazy! I recognized the rough and rubbery leather used. It came from a Congolala, giant primates that lived in the more tropical regions of Canterlot. They are highly territorial, which wouldn't be too bad, but they're also constantly making their territory larger. Eventually they attack a town and a hunter has to put them down. What I don't understand is: a Congolala's fur is pale and pink in color. His armor is dark and black. Sure you can dye an armor a different color but it has to be some really strong dye to stick on to monster leather, how did he manage to pull that off?
"What's a cadet like you doing all the way out here." He barked at me. I could tell it wasn't a question he wanted me to answer at all. "Walking around in your pajamas in public like its not an insult to all of us, you got some nerve, Kid. How about you just go back to wherever you came from and leave us real hunters alone, eh."
I mean, sure he was tough and scary looking, but so were my instructors, so were my fellow peers, and I'd like to think so would I be if I wore some fancy spiky leather like that. I wasn't gonna just let any old man wearing tight pants push me around, what kind of hunter would i be?
"Hey, gramps, cut the tough act. I'm here from the academy in Canterlot. I've been assigned to the Ponyville hall by the guild, to replace one of the hunters who wish to re..."
"The guild means nothing here, kid. Last I heard it isn't even gonna pay for any of our hunts anymore. Why should we care about the guild now? Why should we let some wannabe mooch off our food and sleep in our beds? Because some dead organization told us to?"
As I write this, I still have no clue. I mean, monsters need to be hunted, right? The guild just won't help us directly, but something will still keep the hunts coming, right? Anyway,
"The way i see it, I've got a good back, strong haunches, and the teachings of some of the best hunters in the world in my head. Some of your hunters are clearly better off doing something else entirely. Just put me in there and let the poor saps retire already."
To be honest, I didn't know a single thing about the hunters in Ponyville, and so far the only thing I did know is that the blue lady with the hair that looked like an ice cream cone told me the bakery was the hall. At this point I'm running entirely on guesses and bluffs. It must have worked because after a brief stare down, the hunter dropped his entire toughman attitude. His posture changed completely and he removed his helmet, quickly replacing it with a paper hat. He was the same pony i had seen running into the kitchen when I arrived.
"Well, that's good enough for me!" he exclaimed. Strange, his voice was nowhere near as intimidating as it was before. It actually sounded kind of meek and diffident. "Honey bun and I have been waiting for a replacement for a long time, isn't that right honey?"
"Oh yes, lots of time. When we got wind of the guild going away, I was scared we'd never get someone to come!" The blue pony responded. I took it these two were married or something.
I still don't know what's going on completely, but after we introduced ourselves, these two, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, showed me to the back of the bakery, which was more of a catering/bakery/party hall, up to a completely unassuming wooden door. Using a key, which they later gave to me, they unlocked this door.
It creaked open as if it hadn't been used in decades. The room inside was not decorated in pink and hearts like the rest of the place, but rather, it had the traditional wooden tables and monster carvings on the walls that I saw every day at the academy. There was a small practice area, the dining table, the guild desk, all the hall commodities, and there was a very ornate chair on a corner, placed on a level above the rest of the room, where I assume the hall leader would sit. I might have doubted the bakery to be a Gathering hall, but after seeing that there was no doubt in my mind I was at the right place.
However, everything was covered in dust. Spiderwebs were draped over the furniture, the targets and mannequins in the practice area were just piled up on a corner and they looked almost brand new. This place was empty.
"I'm sorry for the mess, we, uh, really weren't expecting company. We'll get this cleaned right away, right sweetie?" Mr. Cake quickly started sweeping the floors while Mrs. Cake dusted all the furniture. The cobblestone floor being swept had a trail that lead to the wide double doors where hunters would embark on their journey. The doors, however, were closed with a giant wood beam across them. When was the last time someone had set hoof in here?
Before I could offer up to help, the couple had already finished. It's not like it was hard, you can't exactly make a Guild Hall sparkle, no matter how clean it is. Light bulbs dimly glowed as they were turned on for the first time, and the whole thing felt like I was back at the dormitory in the guild academy. The only thing missing was the noise of a bunch of rowdy hunters trying to out-brag each other.
"Where is everyone else? All the other hunters? The staff?" I asked. Its strange how the thought hadn't crossed my mind at all until just then.
"You're looking at them, son. I'm the town hunter, and here's the lovely Guild girl." Mr. Cake snuggled up against his wife. It was romantic, I guess, but the whole thing was just too weird.
In every Hall, there has to be at least one girl who was appointed by the guild to assign hunts and organize groups. Girls were chosen over men mainly due to the large amount of male hunters, and they often wore cute dresses to be as feminine as possible without exciting the hunters too much. However, guild girls were known as the crazy women who oftentimes sent you to your imminent death without so much as an ounce of regret. These were the ladies that decided if you got medical treatment or not, if your hunt was good enough to merit being able to eat that night. Whenever news of a failed hunt came in, hunters would recoil at the wrath of the guild girl. No hunter got more than just friendly with a guild girl. Its just not right. This guy must like living in hell.
"Well, you WERE looking at them. Now that the guild has disbanded, the missus doesn't have a job anymore and now that you are here, I don't have to be the hunter anymore either. Congratulations, you're officially the Gathering Hall leader, the entire staff, and the sole hunter representative of Ponyville! Welcome to your new home."
I know it doesn't count, but I can't wait to brag to all the other hunters in my class how easily I managed to climb to be the best hunter in my Hall. Its almost impossible to be the leader. You'd have to wait for the current leader to straight up die before the slot would open up. The ten year reunion is going to be great.
"We're actually renting out the room where the hunters sleep upstairs, and seeing as she's actually paying for her room, I'm in no hurry for that to change. We'll bring over a bed, you can sleep right here in the hall. You have your training area, lounge, dining room, and everything else right here, why not just your bedroom too? After all, its not like you're gonna be in anybody's way!"
Who could argue with that, right? There's armor racks and places to hang stuff all around here. A free place to stay and its so close to the Hall! Mr. and Mrs. Cake left me to my new room, and after a bit of reorganization, I'm pretty sure I can make this work. I'm going to be using this table to write my journal, and the elevated area with the chair is gonna be where I'll put the bed. If a guild hall can go this long without being used, there probably isn't too much work to be done. I'll have to check up on the backlog of hunts tomorrow. Either way its a good sta...
The letters in the journal immediately stopped making sense again. The hour was up. The spell had dissipated. Twilight blinked a few times in disbelief. She had lost her place in the sea of almost incomprehensible markings. One thing she was for certain though was that she was still on the first page. How? Twilight could read entire novels in an hour's time. She spent an hour reading a little bit more than half the first page? Oh well. Magic is magic. You can't argue with the gods. Twilight had magically learned how to effortlessly decipher the code but that probably didn't make it any less time consuming. Magic made it feel like she wasn't doing much work but in reality all the decoding and translating took way longer than it should have. Looks like she'd have to wait until tomorrow to keep on reading.