//------------------------------// // Ponies and Cliffs They Hang From // Story: Yaerfaerda // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// Finding the windows to Chancellor Fishberry's office was no trouble. Opening them was even less so. Within a minute, Rainbow Dash was crouching nimbly on the black-and-white tiled floor of the room. She squinted across the dark-lit interior, spotting a desk resting up against the wall. Much like Sharp Quill's, there were parchment and sheets of paper strewn all over. “These deer aren't very fastidious,” Rainbow Dash muttered. “Or else, they're very distracted.” She trotted across the room, slid aside a stool, and hovered up at the desk's level. Her eyes squinted across the multiple, multiple sheets. “Nrnnnnghhh... wish sneaking didn't have to involve so much reading.” She nevertheless raised a hoof to her pendant, giving it a slight rub. A crimson light shone across the sheets as she rummaged through them. She saw mostly memos and notifications related to the Council itself. For the first few layers of material, Rainbow couldn't spot something that resembled the stuff found in Sharp Quill's chamber. “Your hunch is starting to look less and less hunchy, Arcanista,” Rainbow whispered aloud. “Only thing she seems to be guilty of is being a slob—” Her words cut off as she glanced to the side. The entire desk was a cluttered mess, save for one corner that was ever-so-slightly cleared off. There, she spotted a drawer with a handle. The wooden finish was marred with hoofmarks, suggesting that someone commonly came into contact with that part of the desk alone. “Hmmmm...” Rainbow reached for the drawer and gave the handle a tug. It refused to budge. Hovering closer with her crimson light, she spotted a remarkably polished bolt-lock holding the drawer shut. “Of course.” Biting her lip, Rainbow looked around... and around. She spotted a metal paperweight on the desk, and then—across the room—a supply closet. Zipping over, she opened the closet and rummaged through. “Ah ha!” Grinning, Rainbow Dash hovered back out, gripping a heavy toolbox. “Nnngh!” She placed it down and opened the lid. Immediately, she spotted a hammer. Smirking, she grabbed it in one hoof, flew back to the desk, and picked up the paper weight. “Once you have the skystone secured, use it to properly fuel your armada,” the general said, pacing before the goblins and their skiff. “Bring the extra reserve here. We'll let you through, just like we did overnight. Assuming there is no trouble in the interim that'll require the vessel you've brought now, then we'll have all three ships at our disposal to bring about fresh change to Val Roa.” “And just what sort of 'trouble' might you be speaking of?” asked the lead goblin. While the conversation continued, Roarke slowly snuck her way inside the skiff. It was obvious from the conversation that the miniature transport was not only going to return to the battleship soon, but be used for a trip back into Cartel lands. The metal mare realized that she needed to be on board to see where it all would lead. “There is reason to believe that foreigners have entered Val Roa Proper.” “What's that to us?” “They possess knowledge that could be destructive to our cause. If they were to make a move against us, we'll need more than the Soul Sentries to silence them.” “You're talking about the Noble Jury, aren't you?” “Don't concern your crew with the enemy until we tell you to pursue them.” “Heh. We're not disposable drool-jobs like your sentries, Saikano. These are the imps in Haman's employ, not Val Roan soldiers.” “If you want to hold any power over Val Roa, then you're going to have to make some concessions. Is that understood?” “Hmmmf. Whatever. So long as this profits the Cartel in the end. We're already having to enslave our own peasants to get this shit taken care of with the Lounge.” Roarke glanced at the main conversation, lingered slightly, then snuck on into the skiff's dark interior. “This is one of the guest balconies, Your Highness,” spoke a servant as she trotted alongside Prince Eine. Together with the royal fawn's entourage, they entered the large round Council Chamber that echoed with Chancellor Fishberry's booming voice. “Wouldn't you rather sit alongside the Chancellor during the deliberation?” “I appreciate the suggestion,” Eine said in an airy tone. “But it's best that my presence not be announced until it is absolutely necessary.” “With all due respect, Your Highness, your arrival has not been a secret for minutes now.” “Even still...” The fawn took a seat, smiling calmly as he stared out upon the sea of delegates' faces. “I could use a moment like this.” “Your Majesty...?” “To sit back and observe a Val Roan function with complete objectivity,” Eine said. “If I sat with the likes of Fishberry or Sharp Quill, I just know they're going to give me an ear-full of advice.” He sighed. “As King of Val Roa, I'm going to find myself having to rely less and less on the wisdom of others. If this is the best way for me to 'learn', then so be it.” The servant bowed. “As you wish, Your Highness.” “Besides...” He smiled, gazing up at the Chancellor's balcony where several strange guests sat. “It would appear that another member of royalty has already taken the favored spot.” “Remember...” Arcanista lowered her muzzle close to Kera's head. “Say only what you've rehearsed,” she whispered so that only the filly could hear. “Keep it short, but eloquent. Feel free to inject your play 'accent,' but don't go overboard with it.” “Yeah.” Ebon leaned in. “None of that silly stuff you said back in the cactus garden.” Arcanista glared at Ebon. Ebon bit his lip, shrinking away with drooped ears. “Do you understand?” Arcanista asked. “Yeah yeah, I understand,” Kera muttered beneath the sound of Fishberry's prattling on. “This is all just about stalling time, anyways, right?” “Absolutely,” Arcanista said with a nod. “But the Council Meeting itself is accomplishing that for the most part. The fact that we are all seated here is misdirection enough.” “Shouldn't I... like...” Kera squirmed in her princess gown. “...m-mention something about the fact that this country is being overtaken by Chrysalis and—” “Nothing of the sort!” Arcanista whispered hoarsely. “That would be most detrimental!” “Why?” Kera frowned. “As Noble Jurists, we should be doing everything we can for these deerfolk! The way I see it, calling Chrysalis out is the one way to get her feathers ruffled—” “We must not draw any more undue attention on ourselves than necessary,” Arcanista said. “It's imperative that we stick to the plan.” “Right...” Kera nodded with a sigh. “Just... be plain... be simple... be princessy.” “And if you feel like you're stumbling at all in your speech...” Arcanista nodded towards Ebon. “Allow your 'advisor' to interject as 'interpreter.' It will help us later on during the Council Banquet to make it look like your knowledge of Val Roan basic is limited.” “Uh huh.” “Your moment's coming up,” Arcanista said, nudging Kera as Fishberry finished her speech to the sound of applause. “We're counting on you, princess.” “Break a leg,” Ebon said with a smile. “Mrnnff...” Kera stood up, cracking the joints in her neck. “I'll break your leg.” She smiled in timely fashion, just as Fishberry turned to look at her. “And now...” Chancellor Fishberry's voice crackled across the Council's speaker system. “...it is my honorable pleasure to introduce the royal delegate from the Far West of whom I've spoken so much about. Does and bucks of the Val Roan High Council, please lend your ears and antlers to the radiant and honorable Princess Kera Tin Mehjj of the Xonan Empire.” The Council Chamber roared with pounding hooves and applause. Gracefully, Kera stepped up to the podium, squinting into the lights, lights, and more lights all shining upon her. She gulped, stood up straight, and took a deep... deep breath— CL-CLANK! Rainbow Dash repeatedly hammered the paper weight that was propped up against the bolt lock holding the drawer shut. “Come on... one or two more should do it...” CLACK! CL-CLANK! SMACK! And finally—CRACK! The bolt snapped free, tearing the handle off as well. “Shazam!” She dropped the hammer and paperweight, pulling the drawer wide open. Squinting, she looked inside, finding a cluster of maps and other sheets of paper. Unlike the mess atop the desk, these were neatly folded, and the edges were frayed—suggesting constant handling. “Where's your head at, Fishberry?” She pulled the sheets out and flipped through them. She stopped at one spot, squinting at a title. “'Lemuel Tundra...'” She pursed her lips. “There it is again. Just like in Sharp Quill's office.” She flipped and flipped through the sheets. “But just what is the friggin' connection...?!” “Is there any message you stupid reindeer want us to give the lizards from the southwest swamps?” asked the lead goblin behind Roarke as she made her way inside the skiff. “You're as much a part of this agreement as Haman is.” “The less business we have to do with the Lounge, the better,” said Saikano. “Once Val Roa is secured from the inside, and the Cartel has taken their share, we'll catch the naga unaware.” “You mean to suggest a cowardly backstab when they're most vulnerable?” “If you would wish to describe it as such, yes.” Roarke paused, glancing back at the bow of the ship upon hearing that. “Heheheheh... there's hope for you tree-headed bastards after all.” “Keep your amusement to yourself. Leave and come back with the skystone. My forces will be waiting to assist you in any way possible.” “Now that's a friggin' change.” The goblin gestured towards his counterparts. “Take us up, boys! We've got an errand to run. It's a shitty errand, but one we've gotta do! Now move it!” Holding her breath, Roarke spun around to scurry towards the rear of the cabin and hide. She bumped right into a limping goblin. “...!” The mare froze in place. The goblin stared back at her. He leaned on a crutch while a wooden prosthetic with a hook dangled loosely from his shoulder. “Jex? Jex?!” The goblin leader snarled as he and the others marched into the cabin. “Did you hear me, runt?! Crank up those damn engines already!” “...” Jex frowned into Roarke's helmet. The metal mare tightened her muscles as the cabin around her filled with goblin footsteps. “Come on... come on...” Rainbow Dash gnashed her teeth. At last, her eyes brightened. “Bangarang! Coordinates!” Her ruby eyes reflected a trio of numbers scribbled across a small page. “...but to what?” She turned it over. On the other side of the sheet was a tiny map illustrating the arctic regions to the far north. A dark layer occupied the latitude just above the bold “X.” “Is... is that a skystone field?” She chewed on her lip. “What are these ponies doing at the roof of the world?” Nevertheless, Rainbow Dash was certain she had gotten what she came for. Briskly, she folded up the sheet of paper with the coordinates and slid it tight beneath the loop of her pendant. “Better bring this to the Duchess. She knows this part of the world way more than I do.” She pulled out the next sheet from the drawer. It bore the illustration of reptilian eels. “These things again? What the buck...” Just then, the room lit up. A green light. “Uhhh...” Rainbow turned and pivoted towards the front door to the office. It hung wide open, and four reindeer marched in, numbly, their eyes glowing a clear emerald. The sentries stood in place, like a solid phalanx. Behind them, a servant trembled. “There! In th-there! I knew I heard a noise in the Chancellor's office!” “Uhhhhhh...” Rainbow Dash hovered in place, twitching. She smiled and waved. “Maid service?” All four guards' emerald mana flew from their eyes into their antlers before launching across the room at the pegasus. FL-FLASH!