//------------------------------//
// I,iv: "Betwixt Tavern and Tavern" 
// Story: The Merry Ponies of Equestria (or, "No Two-Legged Creature") 
// by Sylocat 
//------------------------------//

"Why not? Are the boars here sapient as well?"

"Nah, it's just that using that as the name might send the wrong idea. Hey, since you're humans, why not just call it the Human's Head Tavern instead?"

"And thus the gods see fit to chastise us for the hunting of beasts for sport," the hostess whispered to herself, before responding. "Perhaps if the tavern were opened, we could drink and make ourselves more fit to invent a name."

"Well, if we keep up this progress, it'll be open before you know it! So, what should happen after the second round of songs?"

Pinkie Pie and Nell Quickly were sitting around a table and drawing up the party itinerary. Pinkie, of course, was planning out every detail, since it was opening night and she wanted it to be educational as well as entertaining. Hostess Quickly saw the logic in that, but she was a bit lost at trying to pin down what exactly had been so fun about those nights at her tavern. "In truth, perhaps it was the lack of knowing what would occur next that contained the key?" That didn't sound quite right to her for some reason, but it was the best she could think of.

Pinkie shrugged. "You're probably right. But what sort of thing usually happens? Just so I can get a sense of what might happen next."

Quickly shrugged in turn. "Usually, a quarrel had broken out by then," she joked.

"It did? Why? What went wrong?"

"'Wrong?'" Quickly was surprised, both at the question and that she had never really thought of that before. "Rarely anything specific; it was merely customary."

Pinkie assumed this meant it was a sporting event. "Oh, I get it." She brought out her planning sheets again. "So, what time in the evening should we schedule it for?"

She was a bit confused. "Scheduling a quarrel? They usually happen on their own."

"What, humans just volunteer?"

"Usually, yea. 'Twas a sight to watch the words, joined on occasion by the furniture in their flight."

The party pony was back to being baffled. "Wait, fighting? You mean, real fights? You're supposed to have fights at your parties?"

"Many came just to watch the fray, as audiences go to hear a coarse comedy on a stage," said the hostess, exasperated at the memories. "For what other reason would any innkeeper allow Pistol into her hall? 'Twas amongst the highlights of the eve."

Quickly was about to explain further when Bardolph entered and announced, "Begging your pardons both, but the page and the wrangler have arrived."

Fluttershy had promised to bring Robin by the tavern on her way into Ponyville. Even if the boy couldn't legally reside at the tavern, he could at least visit there regularly. And thus, assuming she had dissuaded Pinkie Pie from planning out the evening in too much detail, Nell Quickly excused herself. "Pardon me. I must regroup."

"Oh, that's fine! Keep me posted on what's going on with the progress!" Now left alone, the party pony mused over what she had heard. She was a bit disturbed by the idea of fighting, but Quickly did say it was a custom of human parties and a lot of them enjoyed it. "Hmm. I don't like fighting, but I guess I should respect their cultural differences."

At that point, her Pinkie Sense activated, giving her a series of twitches that predicted some imminent future event. This particular sequence, she had learned, meant, 'I'm going to be writing a Friendship Report pretty soon.'

She grinned. "Cool! I bet I'm gonna learn something really good at the party! Soooooooo, we'd better make it super-duper-educational!"

She laid out her dossiers next to the party plans, and brought out a new piece of paper, writing 'FIGHT PLAN' at the top. "Now let's see. The most important thing is, being ready to stop it if it gets out of hoof. So we need some kind of safety measur... ha! Of course! Twilight can just telekinetically freeze the entire tavern! She's an Alicorn now, and she was almost that strong when she was a regular unicorn! If somepony gets hurt, she'll just stop it all instantly! Hah! Safety measures totally taken care of!" She scribbled out this notation on her plan, and then continued pondering. "Hmm. But, I don't want to have to stop it too early, so I should probably deploy some ponies with self-control. I think my friends are okay, though. After that thing with Lightning Dust, I think Rainbow Dash knows when to walk away, even if she is still a little on edge. Ditto for Applejack. Rarity won't get into a real fight, of course, but she can definitely turn a phrase, so she'll be super-helpful for the verbal side." She paused. "Huh. That should be enough to make things more comfortable for the humans, but it might still be kinda uncomfortable for the townsponies if it's just up to us to handle the fighting. So we should probably bring in some other ponies to help out. Let's see, who do I know who's good at... ooh, ooh, I know! I know exactly who to invite! And I know exactly what other entertainment to book, too!"





A little filly, the exact image of how Pinkie Pie had looked immediately after getting her Cutie Mark, hopped around Celestia's throne squealing, "Please, please, pleeeeeaaase let me go to this party! Can I go? Can I? Can I? Can I? Pretty pretty please?"

Celestia tried not to let her amusement show. "Even if you don't actively cause trouble, your personality can occasionally be a catalyst for conflict on its own."

The filly morphed back into Discord, who then walked right into a marble pillar, slipping easily into it as if it were an illusion, and became a face on its surface. "Oh all right, fine. So if I hide in the ceiling or wall or something, then can I go?"

She lectured him gently. "And when the ponies find out that you were hiding there all night in disguise, how do you think that will make them feel?"

"Oh." The pillar produced two white arms, to scratch where its chin would be if it were deep in thought. "Good point, I guess." He had been anticipating some lecture about his ability to keep such a promise, not a lecture on the morality of the promised action in the first place. "So, is there any way I can persuade you? You know, for old time's sake?"

The monarch's voice never lost its nurturing tone, nor her expression its teacherly placidness. In fact, she seemed to be barely paying attention to the conversation at all, as she went over some paperwork, smiling casually. "I wasn't aware we had any 'old times.' You did say that Fluttershy was the only friend you'd ever had."

"Ah. So that's what you're upset about." He tried to look contrite, and almost succeeded. "I don't suppose I can convince you I just said that to avoid spilling our little secrets?"

Celestia chuckled. "Of course not. You would have told them our entire history, if you'd thought they would believe it."

Thankfully, before Discord could dig himself in even deeper, he was reprieved by a scroll appearing between them in a puff of green flame.

She tried to keep a neutral expression as she read it. "It's from Pinkie Pie. It's an invitation to the opening night of the Boar's Hoof Tavern. Specifically addressed... to you."

There was a rather loud silence. Then Discord leapt out of the pillar and cheered, "YES!" rolling around in midair from laughter.

Celestia sighed. "Remember, you are under strict supervision of Twilight and her friends. And if you get in trouble, I will find out. And just as importantly, so will Fluttershy."

Discord straightened up, placed one paw over his chest, and began a melodramatic bow that turned into a midair somersault. "I promise that any altercations tomorrow night will not be started by me." He disappeared.

Luna, who had been covertly watching the verbal sparring match from behind the rear curtain, entered to sit beside her sister at the throne. "What exactly is Miss Pie thinking?"

"I have suspicions. Would you like to go along and chaperone too?"

"Should I?"

"If you like."





For the first time since they had met, Sombra looked genuinely alarmed.

"Impossible! The Draconequus, the God of Chaos himself, allied with them? How... Oh. Let me guess, that little harlot Celestia finally managed to enthrall him again?"

"Nope," said Cawdor. "Fluttershy won't say how they did it, but that wasn't it. I got the sense they wrote it in those Friendship Reports."

"The what reports?"

"Friendship Reports." Cawdor explained what she had gleaned about the weekly Friendship Reports that Twilight and eventually her friends had been assigned to learn.

Sombra was agitated. "I want to see these reports! They hold the key to defeating those foals!"

The raven snickered. "Well, if I bring you a camera, you can shrink it down and attach it to me, and I'll slip into the archives and photograph them."

"Get one."

"I can also take in some sensors, if you want to get a reading of the ambient magical energy levels. Might help to get a hint of what we're up against."

Sombra calmed down a little, smiling. "Hmm. Perhaps there is a reason you were called here."





Applejack and Rarity had also dropped by: the former to look over the reconstruction plans, the latter to show off her preliminary sketches for the humans' party wardrobe. But now, as the page was reunited with the travelers, the humans and ponies filtered apart once more to regroup.

As Applejack, Rarity and Fluttershy attempted to exit the building, they were blown backwards by the cloud of dust kicked up by three fillies running past them. They barged right up to Robin, and the yellow one with a red bow exclaimed, "Robin, right? Ah'm Apple Bloom, this here's Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, and we wanted to ask you somethin' real quick!"

Robin, though curious, was taken aback. "I would lend you my ear at once, but I now much consult with my own kind for various matters."

"No problem! We can wait 'til you're free!"

That statement was technically true in that they didn't batter down the door. But of course, over the subsequent conversation, the humans kept seeing faces through the glass of the window, as the three fillies took turns standing on each other's backs.


Fortunately, the windows were fairly soundproof. So, with the ponies unable to hear, Falstaff teased Robin, "Hast thou adjusted to having a steed for thy landlord?"

"Dost thou ride her?" asked Quickly. "When thou growest to be a man, thou should'st bear her instead." She laughed at the mental image of a pony riding around on top of a human, blissfully unaware of the rather different mental image she had just given the others.

Even at Robin's young age, he already knew that ensuring his innocence from such thoughts would only encourage more teasing. Fortunately he had a much better comeback, to put the others on the defensive. "Have you adjusted to having your 'steed' for a landlord?" He then turned to the other three, with a grin. "May I ask whether you five gentlemen and ladies had a peaceable night, now that curfew can no longer pluck Sir John and Pistol from the company of Mistress Quickly and Tearsheet? Sharing not merely a ceiling for the night, but a roof for months? I am thankful that the animals whose barks and hisses lull me to sleep at night have four legs, and the birds have wings of feathers." Robin immediately regretted he hadn't saved some of those zings for the tavern's opening night party. He had a feeling they'd all need to be in top form. But it worked: the adults exchanged awkward glances at the reminder that they'd be stuck together for... longer than they usually were. "And since we talk of company, where is Pistol?"

"He was asked to attend something called 'Anger Management Class,'" said Bardolph. "I know not the details, but from its title, I should think Pistol would at it be either very good or very bad."

"I was both," said Pistol, striding through the door with his head held high. But before they could interrogate him on what he meant, the three fillies noticed that the door had opened, and they barreled past him into the room... followed by their sisters, still attempting to corral them.

The humans and ponies were both about to shoo the fillies out, when Robin seized on the chance to change the subject, quitting while he was ahead. "What would you wish of me?" he asked.

"We'd like to invite you to join the Cutie Mark Crusaders!"

After a long pause, Rarity rolled her eyes. "Humans don't get Cutie Marks."

"All the more reason to try!" Apple Bloom positively beamed with pride that they had thought of this idea. "It could be an experiment thing!"

"Robin might be the first human ever to get a Cutie Mark!" Sweetie Belle agreed.

"And if not, he could still help us out with getting ours!" Scootaloo was cheerfully blunt.


A few short minutes later, the humans waved a momentary goodbye to Robin as the Cutie Mark Crusaders tore off through the street, making a beeline for the clubhouse and ignoring the stares. "Robin is having an eventful weekend," said Doll Tearsheet, "to be plucked from us twice in two days."

"We apologize for our sisters," said Rarity. "This can't be good."

Bardolph smiled. "I do believe he will get along quite well with them."

Applejack gave him a pained look. "Those three foals spend most of their time pioneerin' new ways to destroy everything in sight."

"So we heard."





Anti-teleportation wards. Motion-sensing runes with automatic scrying triggers on the doors and stairs. Armed guards patrolling the hallways.

Of course, those security measures were designed for pony-sized intruders, not for birds. Cawdor flew into the archives with no trouble at all.

Around her neck was not only a camera, but a sensor array, broadcasting the ambient energy levels back to the cave, where Glendower and Sombra could get a reading on what sort of security enchantments the enemy left laying around the castle.

Getting to the Friendship Reports was easy. The hard part was actually pulling them out for photographing. Not because she was afraid of getting caught, but because a small bird had a hard time dragging large folders off a high shelf, especially in secret. It took her a while to figure out how.

And while doing that, she felt a soliloquy coming on. For a brief moment she panicked, but then relaxed as the instruments confirmed that she was still the only one who could hear it; soliloquies weren't transmitted over feeds. So she talked to herself in peace as she pulled out the documents and cast a small incantation:

"This slapstick is humiliating. Birds deliver short messages and scrolls, they don't muck around with gigantic file folders. Putting these things back on the shelf is going to be even worse, and of course those oafs back there are doubtlessly having a good laugh at my expense.

But the live feed is necessary to convince them they're looking at the real thing while still agreeing to send me in here alone. That's why I brought up the Friendship Reports, why I volunteered, and why I suggested the method of extracting the information.

The background magic interference from the security spells can mask the energy from small incantations of other types, so they won't show up on that feed back in the cave. It can't hide anything powerful enough to actually alter the words on the pages, but I can prevent some of those words from registering on camera. I can truncate a sentence, omit a short paragraph, even just drop a letter to change a word. They'll attribute the blank spaces to hornwriting errors.

I can't obfuscate the reports, but I can fuzz a few key details here and there.

I'll leave the friendship reports alone. Tyrants and humans have no interest in friendship, only in domination. Instead I'll alter the ones that chronicle battles and wars. I'll omit some logistical details, things that might blindside them when the war starts. Let's see... nineteen should be enough."

She pondered her speech for a moment. "Hmm, as soliloquies go, that could have been snappier. I should use a song next time, I keep forgetting songs are an option here. I really have been away for far too long."





The clubhouse was better constructed than half the inns Robin had stayed at while traveling with Falstaff. And despite its occupants' species, it had fewer fleas too.

Of course, inns tended to have furniture, so he wouldn't have been sitting cross-legged on a hardwood floor. One more thing that ponies seemed better designed for.

Still, though he certainly felt comfortable with his new acquaintances, it was the first time in a long time he had been separated from any human contact, so he couldn't help being on his guard a bit. He sat with his back to the wall and in view of the exit.

To begin with, he asked, "So, what is a 'Cutie Mark?'"

That may have been a mistake.

Several minutes later, they managed to finish explaining it. So, he thought, it is merely a painless and more specific form of branding? But the aspect of willpower and destiny seemed interesting.

Of course, their first order of business was to grill him for possible hints. "How did you become a 'page?'" said Sweetie Belle eagerly.

"'Tis a family trade. My father was a squire, to Sir Huon de Bordeaux, a knight."

"A family trade?" Apple Bloom sighed. "Ah tried the family business and it didn't work."

Sweetie Belle kept searching. "Well, how did your father become a squire, Robin?"

"I know not."

"He never told you?" Scootaloo was baffled. "Or even if he didn't, did your mom?"

"In truth, the trade was the most he left me, for I never knew him. My mother knew him not either."

There was an awkward silence.

"You never met your own dad?" Apple Bloom sounded sympathetic.

"Where did he go?" asked Scootaloo. "What happened to him?"

"Scootaloo!" Sweetie Belle chastised.

Robin didn't mind telling them, though. "Sir Huon stopped in my mother's village for but one night, on his way to war. His squire inquired after the local tavern wenches. My mother was a barmaid, like Mistress Quickly. But from that day since, we have heard just a few tales of Sir Huon's own adventures and quests, and nothing of his traveling companions."

Scootaloo brightened up. "Adventures? What kind of adventures? Maybe your dad was off fighting some awesome battles and hunting treasure!"

"I have heard tell that Sir Huon accomplished great things."

Apple Bloom still looked sad. "And he never even gave you anything?"

"Of all his worldly possessions, I have only a few scrolls." Robin fished two out of his pack and laid one of them out on the clubhouse floor. "This is a map of my homeland of England." He pointed at a forest not far from London. "This is the forest that concealed the gate to your world. We passed through it thinking we would go to a land beyond."

"Where were you headed that night?" Scootaloo asked, looking excitedly over his shoulder.

"We embarked to Gloucestershire. We were traveling from the capitol in London."

Sweetie Belle was fascinated too, and was about to ask for some more details herself, but then realized something and winced. "Oh. Was it... were you headed there for some... important reason?"

"Ooh." Scootaloo became serious. "Right. Sorry you didn't make it there."

Robin reassured them. "Our journey here was as good as any."





Now that Sombra's party numbered five rather than two, they had set up some actual rooms in the ice cave, partitioning it with conjured walls. They had set up a residential room for the two living humans, lighting it with candles and even bringing in a few scattered items of something approaching furniture. They had then split the workshop in two, clustering Glendower's writings and notes in one sector to avoid cluttering the mind of their demonic newcomer with too much extraneous information. Right now, Iago sat alone, impatiently awaiting instructions, while Glendower and Sombra went over the friendship reports Cawdor had showed them.

Cawdor perched in the residential room, patiently watching her two superiors work. She could easily watch them all through the walls, but for now she pretended otherwise, just smiling insincerely as she allowed Margaret to pet her and feed her more of those vile crackers.

Sure enough, before too long the two rose, clutching a bunch of the papers, and headed over toward Iago's workspace.

"Pardon me, I've been summoned," Cawdor said, and vanished from Margaret's view. She reappeared in the workroom above the desk, and swooped down to examine the remaining documents. She whispered, "Let's see, which did they take? Hmm, they took twenty-two. About one third of the pile. Interesting. So, how many of my little omissions did you... wait." She grew cold. "Wait, none of these are... all nineteen I altered are still here! They didn't even look at my doctored reports? Then what did they find that..." She took off after them, whispering once again, "Not good."


They hadn't fallen for any of her tricks at all! What had they found in the unaltered reports that was so important? She caught up in time to hear Sombra addressing their new arrival. "You are in luck. You asked for a 'more specific' starting point, and I have one for you."

"I pray you speak it," said Iago.

Pacing around in agitation, Sombra growled, "I assumed the Princesses would be our greatest obstacle, but they are protected by a far more dangerous foe. An impossible creature that upends the natural order, with powers that eclipse even my own. Conquering, commanding and brainwashing ponies and deities alike. And moreover, a violent, unstable sociopath held in check only by the clumsy emotional manipulations of the Princesses and the Elements."

Glendower emphasized the importance of stealth. "Our role in this excision must not show. Success, detected, nullifies itself. Medusa's curse will turn itself around; her sight and not her visage turns to stone."

Iago laughed softly. "And to think how my mischief pallored you. But as it please you, name your quarry, and say which of those papers its haunting name doth stain so I may waste less of your 'valued' time in seeking it..." he said, his voice dripping with sarcastic formality, "...and I shall find you out how to set the masters loose upon the dog, or the dog on the masters, whichever shall leave the teethmarks of your more desired depth."

Sombra dumped the nineteen reports on the desk in front of Iago. "There. Get to work. Tell us if you need any of the other reports mentioned within these. And remember, this is our top priority. We must, by any means and at all cost, destroy the one they call 'Fluttershy.'"


'You have got to be kidding me,' Cawdor whispered.





"...and thus did Sir John defeat the valiant rebel Hotspur!"

The Crusaders leapt up in a unanimous, "YAAAAAY!"

Scootaloo shouted, "That was AWESOME! Okay, our turn!" She turned excitedly to the others. "Which one should we tell next?"

"Well, if we wanna follow that story, we should tell one of the ones we've been savin' for a while," said Apple Bloom. "How 'bout the one where Fluttershy stared down a cockatrice?"

"Stared down a cockatrice?" Robin leaned forward eagerly. "This I must hear!"

But before they could begin, they heard Fluttershy's voice outside the cottage. "Robin? Are you here?"

"Oh." He cleared his throat. "I am!"

She alighted in the doorway. Her frown induced feelings of guilt in the young ones despite how obviously forced it was, her effort to maintain severity despite her concern transparent. She then started into the most hesitant and forgiving of lectures. "Now girls, I understand you're excited and curious and all of that, but you really shouldn't just barge in and steal him away just for another Cutie Mark experiment."

Scootaloo facehoofed. "Oh. Right. We were gonna discuss Cutie Marks."

"How did we forget to talk about that?" Apple Bloom was stunned.

Fluttershy tried to stop them from changing the topic. "He barely got a chance to say hello to his friends before you dragged him off."

Robin came to their defense. "In truth, I was rather hoping to explore than to mingle with my own kind for the day, as the six of us are to be for months in closer company than before."

"Oh... really? Well, I suppose I understand that... but, be that as it may, they still should have been more patient with–"

He tried a different tactic. "Is it true that you once stared down a cockatrice?"





Glendower had created a little tracking rune and inscribed it on each of the Friendship Reports, so he could keep track of which ones Iago was consulting to put together a plan. Momentarily alone with Cawdor, he absently confided in her, "He was meant to advance us via stealth and cunning, but he hath now requested some records not of psychology but of battle and conflict."

"Finally," grumbled the raven.

"Excuse me?"

Cawdor covered her gaffe without missing a beat. "I mean, you're so focused on taking out that one pony, you're barely thinking about what the next move after that will be."

Before Glendower could reply, Sombra reappeared. "What is he reading now?"

The human cast a disdainful look at the bird, before turning to his captor. "His choices are confusing."

The unicorn glanced at the letter records. He did not let his surprise show that Glendower was actually keeping track of that, merely noting what had Glendower so puzzled. "That 'Fluttershy' beast scarcely appears in most of these."

"That is not the issue. I understand that much."

"How?"

"Little things oft reveal the deepest facets of the self. We show our true selves more when others draw the eyes. The day to day incidents of peacetime, or the absent twitch of tongue when others hold the floor, all unfold more of our hearts than any public speech or valiant act. And when such vital clues are writ, they go unread. The reader's eye doth skip over, as though the ink were vanished and the truth appears as blank betwixt the highlights." Glendower had no idea how literal that last metaphor was. "I should think his scale were out of balance if he solely weighed the renowned deeds when measuring a foe."

Sombra made a note of this. "Hmm. So, what is it that's puzzling you, then?"

"I have also tracked which of the letters we gave him he hath scanned. The first of those was the chronicle of the Draconequus's reform, of course. But since then he skimmed through the rest apace, only reading three others in detail; and apart from those three he hath only requisitioned ones outside those we chose for him to read."

"Which ones has he picked?"

Glendower looked over the list. "Of the nineteen we gave him, the four he hath perused in detail were the Draconequus's reform, the lessons from the Minotaur, the disastrous night at the ball, and for some reason the one where she became a star in fashion. The last of that was strange enough, but then his choice grew even stranger yet. I understand his reading of the first encounter with the Draconequus. The incident at the royal wedding, while oblique, could conceivably disclose usable knowledge, as could the second encounter. Perhaps even the report of the five ponies dressing in a mask to tear down the sixth might be useful, as it doth highlight weaknesses indeed. But then he asked for the two encounters with the traveling charlatan; the meeting of the zebra; the mystery on the 'train,' whatever that is; and the one where the dragon went to work for the farm girl!"

Sombra looked over his own copies. "What is that idiot doing?"

"My thoughts precisely," said Cawdor.

They had left Iago alone to work, but now Glendower opened the door that partitioned the lab in order to question him. But to their surprise, Iago was standing right there at the door, his hand raised, about to knock. After a mutual stunned silence, he spoke. "I may have a scheme to drive a wedge between the Element Bearers, and remove the Draconequus all in one go."

The human, the unicorn and the raven exchanged skeptical looks.

The demon was clearly enjoying their stunned reactions. He smirked as he continued, "But this depends on your assets."

"What do you need?" Glendower asked dubiously.

"Would you be able to capture one of those 'Changeling' things?"





"Nothing. No traces of his magic at the ice cave." Shining Armor hadn't been satisfied with the guards' reports, so he'd headed up to the mountain himself to double-check.

Cadance nodded. "Of course, Celestia did say that he might just be concealing his aura." She sighed. "But if he is, I don't know how we'd detect it."

The door burst open, and the orange guard ran in. Panting, he removed his helmet and bowed. "Sorry to disturb you, your highnesses."

Shining Armor arched an eyebrow. "Flash Sentry? I thought you were re-stationed in Canterlot." Both Shining and Cadance stifled laughs.

"Princess Celestia sent me to give you an update."

The princess became more serious. "Did something happen in Ponyville?"

"No, the human situation is stable... oh, speaking of which, I was also asked to forward you these." He tossed each of them two scrolls. "But there was a situation further south."

"Further... south?" They looked at each other in apprehension. "How... how much further south?"

The guard confirmed their fears. "The patrol sent to survey the Changeling kingdom reports that it was deserted. Queen Chrysalis and the other imprisoned Changelings have escaped. No clue as to their current location."

They all felt a chill. The monster who had tried to replace Cadance and overthrow Equestria, along with an army of her shapeshifting succubus soldiers, had been locked up for months beneath that dark castle that she had made their second staging ground for the rematch with Twilight. And now they were on the loose again.

"Did the, er, 'guardian,'" said Shining Armor, unable to think up a better term for the giant animated Pinkie Pie doll that Twilight had set up to secure the imprisoned Changelings, "mention how long they'd been gone?"

"It... really wasn't set up for that. But the patrol goes by there every two weeks, so it was sometime this past month." He then gave Cadance another scroll. "A copy of the full report, plus a note from Princess Celestia about the situations."

Busy reading the first scrolls, Cadance chuckled. "Well, this softens the blow. Thank you for the report, we'll look it over and notify the public as needed. Was there anything else?"

"Uh... that was it, I guess."

"Dismissed." As soon as the guard had flown off out of earshot, Cadance's smile grew more troubled, though it did not leave entirely. "We've had quite a few developments over the last few days."

"Should we raise an alert?"

She switched from Twilight's message to the report and note from Celestia. "Aunt Celestia advises us not to, at least for another few days." She was disappointed, but not terribly surprised. "She's concerned about instilling paranoia in the populace, with the human situation still volatile. Plus, she points out that this time, we do have Discord on our side... probably."

"Emphasis on 'probably.'" He thought of something else. "You think it's a coincidence, the Changelings escaping right as the rift opens?"

"They probably took advantage of the commotion somehow. But I don't think they're involved. If Chrysalis knew anyone who could tear open dimensional gateways, we'd have learned about it before now. The hard way." She crumpled up the report, took a breath to calm herself, then returned to the letters Twilight had sent her. "Let's try and console ourselves with this. I wish we could go."

"Me too." He looked further down the invitation, and blinked. "What the... why would they invite... Discord is bad enough, but why her?"

Cadance managed a smile.





"A very interesting idea." Sombra chuckled.

"May I go now?" Iago grumbled at his two captors. "Spirits are of little use in battle."

"Not yet. We may need another such scheme, and in the meantime, there is something else we must do." Glendower turned to the bird. "Those other humans that our feathered companion cares so deeply about excising."

'More like exorcising,' Cawdor whispered. She then said aloud, "What, you mean you haven't forgotten about that?"

"Nay, I have not. As you say, they are most likely powerless, but if they have made contact with the central figures, we should keep watch over them to see what advising they may give against my interventions. Bird, thou hast mobility and shalt bring us word of their movements. Demon, thou wilt make ready to repeat thy success."

"With pleasure," said Cawdor, vanishing with a wave of her wings.

"Without," said Iago, sitting back down at the desk.





"Pinkie, Ah still ain't sure invitin' her's a good idea."

"Oh, from what Bardolph and Nell and Doll Tearsheet have all told me, she'll be the perfect pony for this! And don't worry, she really has a lot in common with the humans, especially with Falstaff!"

"Okay, if you say so. And at least we nipped them in the bud..." said Applejack, crossing out the unfinished part of the sign, and writing an update.



The Boar's Hoof Tavern
GRAND OPENING
PARTY
TOMORROW!

Welcoming our Human visitors to Equestria!


Masters of Ceremonies:
Pinkie Pie & Nell Quickly

Entertainment for the evening:

THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE!
Equestria's most magnificent and accomplished sorceress will amaze you with astounding feats of magic, and regale you with gripping and breathtaking stories of her adventures across every corner of the world!

The Cutie Mark Crusaders
Now with a fourth member, the breakout comic act that stole the show in Ponyville's youth talent show will entertai (cancelled due to family intervention)







This was awkward. "I am sorry, I had no idea of this rule."

"It ain't fair!" Apple Bloom complained. "You're 'bout our age, near as anypony can tell, how come you get to go and we don't?"

"I no more understand than you," Robin said, as they trudged back down the road outside of town to the clubhouse. "Even if you cannot partake of the cider, I think you should be allowed to go. There are still great gaps in my knowledge of your society, the laws protecting children here do seem more strict and biting, yet in other ways they are easier. I see little pattern to it."

Scootaloo, who had been walking ahead in brusque silence, now stopped and turned around. "Robin, could you help us sneak in anyway?"

"Aye. I shall with pleasure undertake that task."

Sweetie Belle perked up at the idea. "That's right! Even if we can't join in their conversations, we should at least be able to know what they're talking about!"

"We're gonna need a floor plan of the place, which Ah can get from my sister, or Robin can get from the humans. Probably both. Then we can work on gettin' inside."





"So the succubi have flown the cage." Iago shrugged. "Can you track them?"

Sombra growled in frustration. "I can't just send my shadows out roaming the land. Even if I could cast enough of them out to search thoroughly, I could never do so without detection. And worse, this plan of yours will require the acquisition of Queen Chrysalis herself. Mere drones and soldiers could never pull off this task. Is there anything else in those papers that could give you a clue as to where they went?"

"Oh. Now that you speak of it, there might be. Do you know how recently they escaped?"

"It was fairly recently. Why?"

Before Iago could continue, Cawdor reappeared bearing a scroll. "So, you want an update on the humans? I got one for you here."

"Put it here and sit on your perch. Now, what were you saying, trickster?"

"Actually, may I see that?" Iago took the scroll and examined it. "Ah. I believe I know where Chrysalis might be."





The Changelings had actually escaped months ago. They just hadn't left until recently.

What word rhymes with orange? While you think about it, let me sing you a song! La la la! This is the song that will neveeeer end...

Thus had the giant animated Pinkie Pie costume serenaded the imprisoned Changelings following the battle of the Secretariat Comet, when Chrysalis's second defeat had sent her and most of her brood down into the dungeon. And of course, her troops tried "door hinge" and "core tinge" and all sorts of bad puns, for days upon weeks before Chrysalis finally roared, "THERE IS NO ANSWER!"

She had meant it as an order for her minions to stop falling for the impossible riddle, but of course, just as the castle had once taunted intruders with the infamous "Why is a pegasus like a writing desk" riddle only to yield to Pinkie's "Nope! I can't answer," thus the giant costume accepted the admission of defeat as well. "Okey-dokey Loki!" it had cheerfully exclaimed, before collapsing inert to the floor.

After briefly working out what had just happened, the Changelings had been about to charge out, when they had heard noises from above.

Thinking quickly, Chrysalis had shoved one of her drones into the costume and had it mimic Pinkie Pie's voice, repeating the song. And sure enough, the pegasi of the Royal Guard had assumed the Changelings were still under guard.

And the success of that momentary ruse made Chrysalis wonder. Perhaps the costume might come in handy after all.

Over the next several months, the castle quietly became their base of operations again. All they had to do was take an hour every couple of weeks to gather back in the dungeon and put a drone in the costume, and the patrols were none the wiser. In between, they could run recon, even send out a few agents to steal stray scraps of love and bring it back to share with the hive. Of course, the ponies had taken away those little critter things that were their current food supply, so they had to be more efficient, but still it was a very advantageous position.

Then one night, everything changed.

They felt a disturbance. Most ponies in Equestria felt weird that night, but to Changelings, there was something else. They had a special sense of the emotional currents in the land.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

They had decided to head out, re-infiltrating Canterlot to get a lead on whatever might have arrived... and perhaps stop by Ponyville along the way for a third bout with Twilight Sparkle.

To Chrysalis's very pleasant surprise, they happened upon a sign for a little party to which everypony in Ponyville was invited. All they had to do was scout the town and look for anypony who couldn't make it that night...





Following Sombra's instructions, Glendower bound a shadow of Sombra into the image of an ordinary Unicorn, and put Cawdor's camera behind one of its eyes. Sombra then hollowed it out. "Iago shall ride in this, and Glendower shall watch from here, with me as the bridge. We will attend this party ourselves, and see if this theory is correct."

Iago decorporealized and entered the hollow imitation pony. "Can this see through a Changeling guise?"

"Yes. You might say I have a history with the Changelings." For a moment, Sombra almost looked… guilty. But then he shrugged it off, and continued. "Besides, that is another advantage to the primordial nature of my shadows. You can't deceive them. They're too base, too brutal. They don't have the imagination to be fooled."





It was sunset, and the ponies were starting to trickle over to the tavern to set up events. Pinkie Pie watched them head in, and looked over to the service entrance as well, where Trixie was preparing her entrants. Of course, Discord arrived, thanked her for the invite with a twinkle in his eye, and flitted in.

Pinkie Pie went over her list. "Let's see... Discord, check. Trixie, check. All of us, check."

"Cutie Mark Crusaders, check," whispered Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo in unison from a nearby shrub.

'Changelings, check,' thought Chrysalis and one of her scouts, as they slipped past in the guise of a couple of townsponies who were in actuality home with colds.

'I, check,' thought Iago and Sombra, as they arrived around the corner.

Finished so far as she knew, Pinkie Pie turned around and strode into the tavern. "This is going to be the Best! Party! Ever!"




We beg your indulgence for a brief intermission.