//------------------------------//
// An Exchange of Straw 
// Story: A Cultural Exchange 
// by Illiad_Easle 
//------------------------------//

What Illiad wanted to do was spend more time with Silver, but it seemed clear she wanted to focus on the work she had, perhaps they would meet up again later. In regards to Chuck, as much as Illiad wanted the answers to his questions, it wouldn't be proper to ask about one's employer when they had just met. He would likely have better luck with Knee Slapper when he next saw him. As nice a pony as Silver said Chuck actually was, Illiad wasn't quite in the mood to deal with one who acted and said the opposite of what they wanted as it showed they weren't truly interested. Illiad turned to face Chuck as he tried to walk the safest path through the factory.

With a sigh he decided he ought to at least give the stallion a chance as he really didn't have anything better to be doing today unless Silver was interested in talking to him again soon. He did his best to seem interested, but Chuck's tone and word choice were particularly off putting to him. He finally found a safe route that brought him to the entrance. "I'm not sure I entirely understand your statement. Would you mind clarifying?"

Chuck gave Iliad a bit of a curious look for a moment, then his eyebrows raised.

"... hunh, you honestly dunno.  Dat's a new one, but s'okay.  I simply t'ought dat you mighta been lookin' at me like you was 'cuz ya seen somethin' green in m'teeth or somethin' like dat."

The emotion was a ripple of surprise.  "Youze don' go ta deze kinda places much, m'iright?"  The Trojan may have expected scorn with the statement alone, but Chuck wasn't mocking him at all; he was apparently taken a bit aback that he knew something the unicorn didn't.

"Dat's arright - yer Dax's pen-pal buddy, ain'cha?  Yeah, I r'member youze from th' tunnel; toldja ta puddon a hard hat.  Ya did; good 'nuff fer me.  Dat kid really seems ta like ya, an' dat's okay wit' me.  So... yeah, yer arright."

Chuck reached back and clamped his mouth on a small wooden handle, pulling out a small clipboard connected to it with copper wiring.  It was an interesting little gadget that brought the clipboard into perfect view for the forepony.  As his eyes scanned its contents, Illiad was given a better opportunity to look Chuck over.

The stallion was an Earth Pony; no magic or flight for him.  But he didn't seem to mind, or even care - intently staring at that board and muttering to himself, Illiad could feel the low thrum of concentrated thinking coming off the simple gray workhorse.  He was a bit bigger than average, but nowhere NEAR as big as some of the others here.  From what could be seen, there were a number of old, shiny scars around his legs and back; scars that weren't just from falling off a scooter as a colt.  It was obvious that the forepony was good at his job, but there was an underlying look of one who actually EARNED their position, as opposed to those 'factory bureaucrats' who never saw a day of hard work in their lives; Chuck looked STURDY.  

And through it all, the stallion had simply read his notes, turning pages with a flick of his ear until he grunted some sort of affirmative, then after flicking the stick and sending all the turned pages back to their original folds, he put it away again in one of his belt pouches.  He looked back up at Illiad, then simply asked a question:

"Do da mares look bettah over dere, or what?  I mean, with loc'l-type outfits an' such - whadda doze ladies from Troy got dat's unique?  Izzit da clothes?  Izzit da jewl'ry?  Izzit dere accents?  I mean, I ain't no lech'r'nuthin'... but hey, a pretty mare's a t'inga byootee, m'iright?"

His accent sounded heavy Manehattan, perhaps?  All the same, his speech made sense; it was simply somewhat mingled together, but it wasn't indecipherable.  Besides, he had been correct - maybe a bit of a roguish feeling or two, but nothing lewd or lustful so much.  He was actually expressing an active interest, it seemed. 

Illiad contemplated Chuck's questions, he was certainly an odd sort, but he'd be right at home with the miners back in Troy. "I haven't been in this sort of factory before yes, it is certainly an impressive work of automation. And yes, I am Dax's exchange partner, Illiad Easle. As to the females back home, they come in all types and species, no accents or traits really unique to Troy, more like a mixture of everywhere else, creatures come to Troy from all parts of the world and they bring their cultures with them. I wouldn't consider Trojan fashion very special, it doesn't get much different from what I'm wearing now as the primary purpose is to keep the sand out of your coat, and fancy fabrics don't do that all that well. Jewelry is certainly something we do well, but that sort of thing doesn't matter to me. I care about what's inside, looks and accessories change and fade over time, but who someone is inside stays pretty constant, beauty does make the character all that more appealing though." Illiad was starting to warm up to Chuck, he seemed alright once he got past the accent.

Chuck gave a grin.  "Yeah, y'got dat right!  O'course, dat don't 'splain what Da Boss sees in Vylia, tho'.  Dat one's a piece o' work - byoo-tee-FULL... but fulla so much venom, makes 'er eyes green!"

Chuck laughed heartily, but sighed as he finished.

"Well... gotta admit dat sheeza lookah, but ain't NO mare worth dat level o' grief.  You seen 'er pitch a fit?  Heck, I been workin' da mines fer a long time an' seen all sortsa stuff - but dat mare scares me, an' dat ain't easy ta do!"

He looked over Illiad for a moment.  "Yeeaaaahh... you got dat lookaboutcha - you might not look like a scrappah, but I'll betcher pretty tough, alla same.  Ya got dat lookaboutcha, like I sed.  Ya don' LOOK all dat tuff... but like ya sed, looks ain't ev'rything, right?"

His emotional state was mellow and light, yet he still looked a bit gruff.  Chances are, it was just the way he was - he seemed comfortable in his own skin; not at all bothered, nervous or agitated.  

"As fer Daxy, s'a good thing yer doin' fer dat kid - he's had it ruff 'round here; heck, he's had it rough all ovah, y'ask me.  'Bout time he got himself a buddy.  Yer a good fella ferdat!" 

Well, that showed what he thought of the Blackwaters, though it surprised Illiad how open Chuck was being with someone he had just met. Illiad could have been a spy for the Blackwaters, but he wasn't. 

"I suppose beauty is relative, Mrs. Blackwater isn't really my type anyway. And I suppose I am pretty tough, my skill in magic compensates pretty well for my lack of body strength. I do hope I'm improving the lives of others with my presence, I'm glad to hear you think I'm doing something right."

He gave Illiad a clap on the back; it was strong, but not intended to hurt... not that it didn't hurt a bit, but there was no sense of painful intent from Chuck's emotions.

"Y'had lunch yet, huh?  Y'feel like grabbina munch?  Da Lunch Trailah's foodza lot bettah than ya t'ink.  Whaddya say?"

Illiad winced slightly when Chuck managed to strike a scar directly. He knew it wasn't intentional, but it hurt anyway. "Sure, I could use some food."

Chuck was moving a bit back towards off putting with his comments towards his boss' wife, such lack of respect was surprising to him. Still, he was excited at the prospect of more food. 

Chuck led Illiad over to the Lunch Trailer, where the aroma of freshly cooked straw dogs and corn fritters were thick in the air, but not unpleasantly so.  There were a few other ponies here already, and a few of them nodded or waved to Chuck, who returned their greetings in kind.

They stepped up to the little window in front; behind the counter was a gaunt, haggard-looking pony who took one look at Chuck, and instantly went to the grill, plopping two straw dogs onto the hot surface.

"Hey dere, Grill!  Gimme a dubble onnat ordah, wouldja?"

The grill pony sighed, and put two more on to cook.  Chuck leaned against the side of the trailer, after moving out of the way of the window, and gave Illiad a curious look.

"So... whatcha like on yer straw dawg?  Mustard?  Ketchup?  Relish?  What kinda stuff you put on your... heck, you even HAD one b'fore?"

Illiad was intrigued by the smells of the area, and a bit surprised at the use of straw in food. Hay was far more nutritious, though a bit more costly to produce than straw, which came attached to the other crops like cereals and wheat. Perhaps they weren't using actual straw and just called it that.

He turned towards Chuck with a bit of a curious look on his face. "No, I can't say I have. It smells interesting though, is it made with actual straw? Or is it hay instead?"

The forepony laughed.  

"Nah, dere hay, arrite - but back inna day, dey useta be straw; back when my Faddah was still a young buck, he hadda cart dat he useta pull to a lotta events around 'Questria.  Made 'em any kinda way youze can thinkit - all sortza erbs an' spices dat he could put tageddah t'make REALLY GOOD straw dawgs!  He was a bona-fidey GENIUS widdem; dat's why I gotta real appreciation for 'em."

He went to the window seemingly automatically; the grill pony put four 'straw' dogs in little paper bowls on the counter as if it was a well-rehearsed routine - chances are, it was.  Chuck got them on a battered and carved-on wooden tray, and brought them over to the side of the lunch trailer, where there was a cart full of bottles, shakers and jars.  

It was a bit messy, but the condiment cart wasn't nasty-looking; it seemed like somepony cleaned it each day, so the little drips and spills weren't so bad.  Chuck set the tray down, then turned and smiled over at Illiad.

"Hey, howzabout dis - you get two uvvum, but I get ta dress one up MY way for ya!  If ya don't like it, I'll getcha anuddah one.  Whaddya say?"

Chuck was grinning ear-to-ear, and the enthusiasm for these rolled and fried tubes in buns rolled off him in a steady but significant stream.  Apparently, if ANYPONY here was going to really introduce Illiad to food, then perhaps Chuck List could be the one to do it...

Illiad didn't see anything wrong with that arrangement. Given that he had no idea what would go good on a straw dog, he thought it best to let someone who knew what they were doing take care of it.

"Sure, that sounds like as good a place as any to start. I wouldn't know what one puts on a straw dog anyway."

Chuck grinned and his spirits climbed.  "See, DAT'S what I'm gonna show ya!  Arrite, look here -"

He made his way to one of the jars, where a small dipping ladle was.  From inside came a pungent, sweet smell, and Chuck pointed a hoof at it.  "Dat's RELISH; s'made outta diced pickles an' a bitta syrup - always get it as a base, 'cuz it can help hold it all tageddah..."  So said, he scooped the ladle and poured a fair-sized line of green, chunky and gooey-looking stuff along the length of the dog.

Next, he moved to a canister that had a sharp, onion-y scent.  "Dem's onions," Chuck said, "and dey go great widda relish, ya know.  Good veggie-tubble combo, if ya ask me."  With an available spoon, he put a neat line of chopped onions on the relish, giving the white chips a bed of green.

After this, he leaned over far enough to nudge a dented tin shaker closer, taking hold of it and shaking a light coat of what appeared to be a chunky white powder over the veggies already on it.  Once finished, he set down the shaker and stated, "Dat's Ground Goat Cheese - pretty popular 'round here when it comes ta dawgs."

He then moved over to a station on the cart with a seemingly heated container sitting on a metal plate; upon closer inspection, it had a very slight magical aura coming from it.  At any rate, it was putting off a bit of heat, and whatever was inside had a very hearty, delicious aroma that became evident when Chuck pulled the lid off of it.  He smirked back at the Trojan.  

"Dis is called CHILI; it's basically bean gravy wit some extra spices and such.  Always heated, 'cuz it just ain't the same widdout it!  Plus, it warms up the onions an' relish, and dat's a good thing!"  He laid a generous helping of chili along the dog, burying the relish and onions in a layer of bubbling bean goodness.

He then stepped over and pointed at a jar with what appeared to be shredded lettuce in it.  "Dat's Cold Slaw; s'magically treated ta stay cold while ya eat it, but it don't cool the chili off - it's Q-lynn-airee magic, I tell yaz!"  He spooned three large dollops onto the dog, eyeballing his own work.

With that, he turned and offered the prepared straw dog to Illiad.

"Arrite, dere ya go: one Chuck Supreme!  G'wan and try the uddah dawg first, the one widdout stuff onnit - get a feel for the taste of it b'fore you moddy-fie it!  Den, try dis one."

Illiad found the stack of condiments to be both an odd set of combinations and a bit overwhelming. At least there's no mushrooms, or it being dipped in tea. Illiad picked up the undecorated tube of grilled hay, "Ok, don't be offended if I don't like it."

Illiad then tried a bite of the hay in bread. It was a bit bland and dry on its own, likely it was meant to have condiments added to it. He could taste a hint of the spices within, they were common spices in Troy, so he was used to higher concentrations of them than were present. In all, it was decent, it was food after all and pleasantly different from what he was used to.

"It's different than what I expected, not bad though." Illiad idly wondered what the Blackwaters would think of him if they saw him here.

Chuck lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh-HO, 'zat so?  Arrite - you tried dat one... now," he smiled broadly, "try DIS one!"

He motioned to the decorated dog.  All in all, it looked like there would be a number of flavors in it - and who knew?  Perhaps they would be good, all mashed together this way.  Besides, it did seem to mean a lot to the forepony that Illiad would actually take an interest in something he had quite a bit of knowledge about.

"Here - I ain't gonna stare down yer t'roat while ya eat it; I'm gonna make mine up right while you try yer foist bite o' the perfect dawg!"

With that, as promised, Chuck began to cover his two the same way he had done for the unicorn; the EXACT same way, in fact.

Illiad set aside the rest of his plain dog, eyeing the decorated one with a bit of trepidation. He still considered the combination odd and wasn't too sure about the quantity. But he didn't want to be rude, so he carefully lifted it as to not spill the small pile of toppings and took a bite.

It was certainly an intense mix of flavors, the diversity of which made his tongue simply go 'huh,' and stop trying to process it. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience to be honest, just not the sort of thing he was used to or would honestly prefer. He continued to eat it as there was no point in letting it go to waste and his tongue was still on a temporary vacation from tasting things. Once finished he picked up the remainder of the plain dog and joined Chuck at the topping station.

"It was certainly an interesting combination, but I think it was a bit too intense for my tastes. No doubt if I had them more regularly I'd be able to appreciate it more." 

Chuck gave Illiad a bit of a sidelong glance... then simply chuckled and shook his head.

"Eh, I suppose dey ain't fer ev'rypony, are dey?  Too bad - t'ought I woulda found ya somethin' good dere."

He shrugged non-chalantly, but the Empath in him could feel the little ripple of disappointment roll through Chuck.  Still, it didn't show on his muzzle, and it seemed as if he wouldn't hold a grudge, as there was no ire or wrath coming off him.  He finished gathering the condiments for his own dogs, then sat down and fairly wolfed them down himself; it was somewhat impressive that he didn't even spill a drop, especially when the forepony's own straw dogs were more loaded than Illiad's had been.

"So," he asked between biting, chewing and swallowing, "Whaddaya learned from the kid so far, eh?  Anything yet?"

Illiad looked slightly surprised at Chuck's line of questioning. "Well, I'd say I've learned a bit about him and his family as well as how this quarry works. He's an interesting kid, so different from the rest of his family. This quarry is an impressive work, I'm amazed that the mountain still has minerals to be mined after all this time, especially with how efficient you seem to be with extraction." 

Chuck nodded at the unicorn's appraisal of Dax.  "He's a good kid.  Useta come down here alla time, even helped out inna mines - he's got a GREAT kick - but dat was b'fore The Boss found out."  He shook his head slowly.  "Sad stuff, dere."

Hearing about the mountain and extraction, however, brought a smile to the forepony's muzzle.  "Yeah, you'da t'ought dat it's gotta be t'rough by now... but it ain't.  Dis mountain was caused wenna meteorite struck da ground here, reeeeeeeeeally long time ago.  Da water built up unnerground releases inta da soil, an' dat shifts stuff around a lot ovah time... b'sides, we keep a decent rotation o' worksites an' blasting.  The blast loosens up da area around it, so's dere can be anuddah round of mining by da time we gat back to it."

Chuck stuffed about half of a straw dog into his mouth, chewed exactly three times, then swallowed as he pointed to the east.  "Always clockwise 'round da mountain - nevah countah; dat keeps ya away from da blasting."

Illiad knew enough about mountains to know that that was not how normal mountains worked, but was open minded enough to suppose that it could be true for this mountain, he had seen some pretty interesting things within it after all.

"Huh, that sure is an interesting situation you have with this mountain."

He decided not to ask about why Mr. Blackwater wouldn't want Dax helping in the mines, he was sure Mr. Blackwater would have a good reason for it.

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you think of Silver Studs?" 

"Silvah?"

Chuck gave Illiad a curious look for a moment, then a slow smile crawled across his muzzle.

"Oh-ho-ho, I see... well, she's a good kid.  Smart as all get-out, y'know?  Seen her workin' on her machines an' such; got a knack fer 'em, so she kinda keeps da whole place runnin' in tip-top shape.  I never saw anypone as nutzo 'bout gears an' stuff as she is.  Gotta admit, she's got ME beat in brains - and she's bettah-lookin', DAT'S fer sure!"

Chuck laughed a bit, then settled down.  Taking another whopping bite from his straw dog, the forepony gave the question a little more serious thought.

"She's a workah - no lazybones in her skelly-ton, I know dat.  An' honest, she ain't got a lie inner whole body... DAT, I like even more.  She ain't the dizzy kinda mare, either - she's got 'er head on straight, even if it is kinda inna clouds, sometimes."

Chuck shrugged, but it was obvious he thought the mare was sweet.

"Sounds ta me like youze gotta soitan lady on yer mind, eh?  You just chattin' her up right now, or you gots wedding bells in the fewtcha?"

Illiad almost blushed at Chuck's question, but still gave a slight smile at the thought. "She certainly is smart, she reminds me of my good friend Clockwork in a way. He's really good at inventing stuff too. It doesn't hurt that she's one of the cutest mares I've ever had the pleasure to meet. I really enjoy talking to her, but I'm not sure she'd be interested in marrying me, I've only just met her. No doubt some other pony's caught her eye by now."

Illiad sighed as he finished his un-decorated straw dog. "I suppose it's too early to really know at this point, but she is certainly the kind of mare I'd like to marry someday."

He turned his attention back towards Chuck. "Sorry if any of that seemed a bit odd, this is an odd situation for me."

Why do I get the feeling Silver would have just happened to overhear what I just said?

Chuck grinned.  "Eh, we're all kinda odd around heah - no harm, no foul."

Chuck expertly finished off his straw dogs, then took his tray to a bin nearby, where he simply dropped it in and left it.  He made his way back over to Illiad, a thoughtful look on his muzzle.

"Far's I knowuv, I can't t'ink of ANYpony who's shown much innerest in Silvah - 'cept Slappah, an' doze two're like bruddah an' sistah.  Maybe you gots yerself a chance dere, Romeo." 

Chuck gave the unicorn a playful nudge, chuckling slightly.  "Why don't we head ovah tada gates?  Dere's a bee-you-tee-full viewa Canterlot from-"

"Well now, Chuck... made a new friend, have we?"

Behind them both was Redd; he wore a big smile on his face and a look of solid curiosity in his eyes.  Emotionally, it felt as if he were mentally prodding at this situation to try to find an excuse to get them into trouble.

"And how do YOU do, Mr. Easle?  There's certainly some talk getting around about you, you know..."

Chuck rolled his eyes; Illiad didn't need to feel the disgust coming from the forepony to know he wasn't fooled by Redd's kind demeanor.

"Whadda YOU want?"

"I simply wanted to take the opportunity to remind you that this IS a business, Chuck - it wouldn't do to just take leisure time whenever you want, now would it?"

Chuck gave Redd a square look.  "Ah, blowwit outcher feedbag, Redd - dis's my break time, an' I'm takin' a break.  B'sides, I could take a whole day of doin' nuttin', an' I'd STILL have ta put in extra non-work ta catch upta YOUSE, ya twinkie."

The comment seemed to cause Redd's grin to grow... but OOH the hatred that bubbled up inside!

Illiad knew it wasn't his place to keep the two of them in line, so he wasn't going to try anything in regards to balancing their emotions. He liked Chuck more anyways and given the time Chuck had been here he no doubt had seniority in the situation.

Illiad was curious however to what might have been said about him. He feigned interest "Oh? And what might that talk about me be pray-tell? Would it happen to involve Knee Slapper?"

Redd lifted an eyebrow at the Trojan.  "Oh, I'm CERTAIN there's been some talk about the two of you, yes... and about whatever happened the other day.  I'm GOING to find out, Mr. Easle - and should it be untoward behavior, I shall-"

"Redd... c'mere a mo'."

The red unicorn gave the gray earth pony a highly skeptical look, then gingerly leaned in close to listen to Chuck.  The forepony looked around in a conspiratorial manner - which was when his emotions instantly reacted and started cycling up with... humor?  Whatever his reasons, his face showed NONE of it.

"Ya know what da real thing is about Illiad ovah heah?"  Chuck's eyes got a mystified look in them.  "Y'see - he's got dat psychic touch, ya know?  He knows what'cher thinkin', an' if he don't like it, he can make parts of yer brain just disappear!"

A sly wink from Chuck; a skeptical pout from Redd... and a bit of movement from behind Redd.  It took Illiad a moment, but when he finally saw Knee Slapper creeping up behind Redd, the intent became clear.

"You're full of manure, Chuck!  There's no such thing as a psychic pony - you're pulling my leg."

Chuck took on a mockingly sincere look.  "Oh, now would I do a t'ing like dat, ol' buddy ol' pal?"  Slapper was almost directly behind Redd now, and he raised his hooves over his head.

"B'sides... you ain't never SEEN a psychic pony, right?  Ain't no tellin' if Illiad here's gonna getcher goat or what... 'cause if ya make 'im reeeeeeal mad... he might... just... make... you..."

"EXPLODE!!!"  Slapper yelled out as he smacked Redd on both sides of his flank at once.  The peal of horror that came out of the rude unicorn's mouth sounded more like a mare's squeal than a stallion's yell.  Red came off the ground by about six inches, and his legs flailed wildly for the brief moment he was airborne.  Once landing, his wide round eyes slowly re-focused, and turned a hateful, spiteful glare on the two foreponies, who were currently laughing almost hard enough to make their cutie marks fall off.

"YOU TWO WILL RUE THE DAY YOU DID THIS!"  Redd yelled at them, his emotions a ball of anger and shame.  He turned to Illiad.  "AND YOU!  I'll be WATCHING you!  Best stay clear of these two troublemakers, or they'll-"

"Heeeeeey, it's all in harmless fun, Reddy!"

"DO.  NOT.  CALL.  ME.  THAT!"

"Awwww... shucks, Redd - c'mon... you know you'd have laughed if you would have seen it done to somepony else, right?"

Illiad felt a tweak of energy from Slapper; the forepony was using his own abilities to calm Redd down - and it was working.  Mostly.  His anger down to a dull roar, he shot an evil glance at the three of them, them walked off in a huff.

Chuck and Slapper resumed laughing as soon as Redd was out of sight.

As humorous as Illiad knew the situation was meant to be, it was far too close to the real stigma surrounding Empathics for him to get any real enjoyment out of it. He gave a slightly nervous smile, but did not laugh. It would be clear to Knee that he was quite uncomfortable.

Hoping to move on however, Illiad turned his attention towards Knee, "Glad to see you're doing well." 

Slapper wound his laughter down, and the grin on his muzzle was infectious.

"Yeah, good to see you're A-OK, too.  Dealing with a rockslide like that one... what a doozy, eh?" 

Chuck finally wound down as well, then gave a sigh.

"Arrite, ya mooks - I gotta get back in dere; no tellin' what doze idjits have knocked ovah since I been on break.  You can escort dis guy around fer a bit, 'cuz you two apparently got some hist'ry tageddah... at any rate, it was pretty okay chattin' witcha dere, Illiad; yer arrite."

Chuck gave the unicorns a nod and a grin, then set his 'work face' on and made his way back towards the mines.  Slapper watched him go, then spoke softly to Illiad in the other tone of voice he'd used earlier; Illiad might have gotten the impression that this voice sounded more natural to the purple unicorn.

"There goes a stallion who is worth his weight in emeralds... but don't let him know I said such; his ego is far more delicate than you'd expect; he doesn't need it inflated.  I am genuinely glad that you're okay - I was a bit worried, but Ziggy told me you seemed fine."

He glanced around a bit, then motioned to the Trojan to follow him as he started walking aimlessly.

"I expect that, if we want to talk, now would be the time.  Shall we?  I'd be more than happy to discuss what happened yesterday... if you're up for it?"

Illiad moved to follow Knee, a slightly serious expression on his face. "As much as I want to put the indecent out of my mind I won't feel entirely safe until I know it won't happen again. It could have caused quite a bit of harm had we not stopped it when we did and I don't want it to happen again." 

Illiad sighed as his expression softened a bit. "I'm feeling much better now, but I'd hate to think what would have happened had she not arrived to assist us."

"Yes... of all the ponies, Princess Luna, herself!  I imagine you must have quite a bit of pull to garner the attention of the Night Princess like that.  A good thing, too... you're quite right that we would have been mere casualties instead of victors."

Knee waved to a few other workers in passing, then continued to speak when they were out of earshot.

"As long as the barricades stay undisturbed, it should seal that thing inside it.  Of course, it'd be safer still to just blast the caves around it and seal it off for good; at least I'D feel safer, anyway.  Maybe that's what I'll have to tell Luther - it's time to just seal it off for good.  We didn't consider it at the time because of structural issues... but that was long before we got the supports like we have now.  Those tunnels could be sealed shut, and with the barricades doing their job, it'll put the final kibosh on this whole thing... once and for all."

He sighed at this, yet there was still a small look of doubt haunting his eyes.

"I don't know for sure... but I feel as though there was something... I was missing in all that.  The spirit-presence you unleashed spoke to the thing; they sounded almost like it was a conversation, did it not?  What were they talking about, I wonder?  Do you know?"

Illiad would have preferred a more definite solution, but agreed that blasting the caves would be the safest that could be managed at the moment. "Selena hasn't told me what was said in her discussion, nor am I inclined to ask. Given the judgement she passed down I would assume it was a typical condemnation speech with it either pleading or justifying its actions."

Illiad thought of what else he could say but couldn't seem to come up with the words for it. "Given that it wasn't destroyed I would believe she found some reasonable justification for its actions. But if the cave is being demolished we may never know, nor may it really matter."

Illiad looked a bit down. "It's a shame you'll lose so much cloud diamond in the process, it's not the purest but there is still a substantial quantity, it's likely attracted all the diamond in the mountain."

Knee shook his head emphatically.

"No way, Illiad - there's no amount of diamond - Cloud or otherwise - that would ever justify trying to keep those tunnels open for even another week.  Besides, I'm fairly certain Luther still has some of the original chunk stashed away somewhere, so it's not as big a loss as one would think.  But yes, having the tunnels sealed will be the end of it, I'm sure."

Illiad did not look to sure and still felt a bit of dis-ease at the danger it posed.
"I hope you're right about that."

Knee was quiet for a moment, then spoke up again once they were clear of any possible eavesdroppers.

"Selena, you say?  So that's the name of the entity you conjured up.  Would it be too much for me to ask how THAT came to be?  How you met her, I suppose?"

His disposition did improve at the question of Selena.

"The story of Selena is a complicated one, it is why I know Princess Luna so well. She has asked that I not go into detail as to her origins at the moment, it suffices me to say that Selena is as much Princess Luna as she is me. She is the current embodiment of Karma, and she and I share a link."

He looked over at Knee with a slightly sheepish grin.

"I know that that is not very informative, I met Selena the night after I, 'liberated', the cloud diamond she resides in from where Celestia put it after she took it from Princess Luna. Selena has the same dreamwalking ability that Luna has so we talked in a dream and I've kept her around ever since. Usually she will act through me to balance karma in others, but there was a good quantity of diamond available and Luna's help so I thought I'd try a full form."

Illiad looked back over at Knee.

"I hope at least some of that made sense to you, if not I could answer some questions about it."

Knee gave a mock-hurt look on his face.

"Oh, how you wound me - after all we've been through together?"  Slapper gave a hearty chuckle, "Trust me, I understand about having a little privacy with matters... remember, I've been keeping a low profile myself here for quite some NEVER had a chance!  We flattened that wall in no time flat... and HEY, look who it is!"

Knee Slapper, apparently having seen him coming, turned Illiad around to face towards the quarry - where Dax was making his way towards them both.   Knee tipped the Trojan a wink as the young stallion approached, and touseled Dax's mane when he got close.

"You been keeping outta trouble, young fella?"

Dax gave Knee a sidelong glance, but he was grinning all the same.  "Yeah, yeah... hiya, Illiad!  I had to go with Mother; did one of the Ons tell you?  I hope you weren't too bored around here, were you?"

Slapper grinned.  "Naaaaah, he's been keeping himself entertained."

"Oh, good - I was afraid you'd get bored here by yourself.  Thanks for keeping him company, Knee."

"Eh, you know me - hard for me to keep my big mouth from flappin', y'know." Knee started walking off. "So, I guess we'll yammer at each other later, Mr. Easel; you have yourself a good day!"