World of Ponycraft

by Capn_Chryssalid

Chapter Five

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(5)
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“Praise Celestia! I knew somepony would come for us!”

The frantic gray pegasus colt all but collapsed into Applejack’s arms after being released from the Twilight Cultist’s cage. His blue eyes were wide and bloodshot, darting left and right as if expecting to be attacked from the shadows. His conditionw as hardly unique; all the captured ponies were in bad shape. They had been left dehydrated, half-starved and chained up. Applejack kept from boggling at the brutal mix of rope and steel that kept the pegasus she had freed from even flexing his wings.

Emotionally and physically broken, he sobbed and fell to the ground, crying into his hooves.

There had been a total of six cages in the Twilight Cult encampment but only four surviving ponies. Two cages had been empty, the others had contained two earth ponies, a pegasus and a young unicorn, barely older than Sweetie Belle. Applejack and Twilight had immediately gone to work freeing the captives while Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy handled the bodies of the fallen cultponies responsible. Rarity had been sent to check out the tents to make sure there were no other enemies lurking around and, of course, to search for any more clues as to what the Twilight Cult was doing in Everfree Forest.

Lowering herself down, Applejack held a waterskin between her teeth. She hadn’t purchased any enchanted water, like Fluttershy and Rarity had. This was just good, clean water from a river, boiled to remove any impurities. Opening his mouth, the wounded pegasus greedily sucked at the waterskin, trying to slake his thirst. The Cultists had kept him weak and he winced as he tried to move his wings.

Applejack glared at the cruel contraption on his back and called over her shoulder, “Twilight! Ah think ah need a bit a help with this one here!”

“Be right there!” The party leader replied, just finished checking in on the young unicorn filly. She cantered over and frowned at what she saw. Violet eyes darkened with determination and her horn glowed as she worked her magic. The wounded pagaus grimaced, flinching, as the metal braces on his wings shook and finally snapped. The locks on it weren’t nearly as heavy or tough as the ones on the cages.

“Celestia’s Light,” he felt the bindings fall away. Light gray wings tentatively stretched, but given the look of pain on the young stallion’s face, it didn’t seem like he’d be flying anytime soon. His head and expression fell for a moment, but then, as if taking determination from his rescuers, he at least forced himself to stand back up.

“Thank you. Thank you all,” he gasped, looking at Applejack and then Twilight.

“Are ya sure ya can walk?” Applejack asked, seeing the way he wobbled.

“Yes. Yes. There are others worse off than me.” The pegasus dipped his head to the two mares. “My name is Ice Breaker. I owe you my life.”

“Do you know anything about what happened here?” Twilight asked, glad to have found someone composed. The other ponies hadn’t been able to fill in much about their captivity.

“I’d be happy to help, but I’m… I’m not entirely sure what these madponies were doing,” Ice Breaker admitted, brows drawing down into a frown. “I was on vacation with some friends from the weatherworks. We’d stopped to rest on a cloud and watch some fillies playing in a lake…” Suddenly conscious of whom he was telling this to, he had the presence of mind to blush and sound embarrassed. “They saw us and said we should come down, but when we did, these other ponies jumped us from behind! I think they were pegasi, too. Next thing I knew they had these hoods over us and when I woke up I was in that cage.”

He pointed over at the castle. “Everyone else I came here with was taken over there. I don’t know what happened to my friends…” He deflated and motioned to the fallen manticore and the dead cultpony, Catnip. “But the one pony who managed to pick their lock and escape ended up food for that animal. Thank Celestia you ponies got here when you did.”

“That lake where ya got captured,” Applejack asked, giving him a supportive nudge. “Where was it?”

“I guess we… were between Ponyville and Canterlot?” Ice Breaker guessed. “It was in the countryside off the flightpaths.”

“Don’t worry,” Twilight assured him, pacing a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “You’re safe now. There’s a group of Royal Guards nearby. We’ll escort you all there and they’ll take care of you.”

Ice Breaker nodded weakly. “Thank you so much…” He glanced up, realizing he didn’t know the names of his rescuers.

“This is Applejack, and I’m Twilight Sparkle,” the amethyst unicorn introduced herself and her friend. She quickly did the same for the others she had come alongside. Two of the names, Ice Breaker remembered.

“Rainbow Dash? You mean Rainbow Cr- ” he caught himself. “I can’t believe that’s her. And Fluttershy? The model? Wow. I got saved by celebrities.” Ice Breaker shook his head in disbelief. “Still. I can’t thank you all enough.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it none,” Applejack assured him. “Why don’t ya help the others? We’ll be headin’ out soon.”

Near the center of the battleground, Fluttershy was carefully arranging all the noxious bottles of Catnip’s poison she could find. There were quite a few left on the evil pony’s corpse, and the pegasus had made a small pile of them some distance from the center of the camp and where Sniffles had fallen. Since the end of the fight, she had been determined to see a real end to it, which in her mind included the destruction of the source of the wildlife corruption itself. It wasn’t enough that Catnip herself was gone. As long as her alchemical toxins remained, they were a danger to the animal life in the forest.

Drawing a circle around the poison bottles with a hoof, Fluttershy dipped her nose into a small pouch strapped to her left front leg. She retrieved a small seed and placed it on top of the poison vials before backing away. Applejack watched, intrigued, as her quiet friend closed her eyes and muttered some sort of prayer or incantation. The enchanted seed became enveloped in whirling green light and began to grow, roots breaking open and drinking up Catnip’s poisonous brew. The power of nature – Applejack assumed, anyway – consumed the toxins, and within moments a small tree had grown in their place. Tiny yellow and pink flowers sprouted from the leaves of the little tree, and Fluttershy opened her eyes, smiling with satisfaction for a job well done.

It reminded the farmer of the druids she had hired to help restock the farm after the Cataclysm.

Druid magic.

Of course, all that magic hooey was just different shades of mumbo jumbo on her opinion. She’d heard stories about the differences between unicorn magic and pegasus magic and what mages did and shamans and druids and all the rest. It all seemed to just be making mountains of molehills. Magic, Applejack believed, was magic. She didn’t have a problem with it, since she could hardly understand it in the first place, but it was still strange to witness sometimes: like watching some little seed become a tree in the time it would take to eat an apple. So strange.

Not too long after, Rarity emerged from Catnip’s tent, levitating a box and several items.

Applejack assumed the former to be full of the evil pony’s misbegotten gold and, sure enough, once opened the assembled mares had found a small treasure trove of plundered items. The gold would be divided up later, and Applejack was already calculating what she would be able to do with it on the farm. There were also a hooffull of magical items, some more potent than others. These rare items, ‘blues,’ Dash had called them, were soon the last order of business to take care of.

One of them, Twilight identified as “Catnip’s Pendant of the Champion.”

“That means it makes you stronger, tougher, and gives you faster reflexes so dodging attacks is easier,” she explained, hoof in the air as if giving an informative lecture. “According to what I read in Brannigan’s Big Book of Leadership, this sort of item should go to the group’s ‘tank.’”

“So either’a us, right?” Applejack asked, turning to Rainbow Dash.

“Yeah,” the pegasus agreed. “So do you…? I mean, I’ll pass if you really want it.”

“Ah don’t rightly know if I’d say I really want it,” Applejack demurred. “Ah suppose ah could use it, though.”

“Do you need it or want it?”

“Ah dunno. You ya need it or do ya want it?”

“Come on already!” Pinkie Pie bounced up and down impatiently. “I wanna get to the shammy loot! Just need roll for it!”

The paladin and warrior turned to Twilight.

“Ah! A chance to use my slash-roll spell!” Twilight happily clapped her hooves together. “Okay! Ready?”

“Yep.” “Go ahead, sugarcube.”

Twilight motioned for them to hold out their hooves and then concentrated. A set of rapidly cycling numbers appeared over Applejack’s front hoof, and she saw, over Dash’s as well. The impulsive pegasus grinned, and the numbers suddenly ticked down and stopped.

> 38 (1-100)

“Aw!” Dash groaned. “Thirty eight?!”

Applejack, not wanting to be too far behind, focused on the numbers running over her hoof… and just like that, the Random Number Generator spell activated. A handful of numbers flew by at a decreasing pace, until…

> 100 (1-100)

Applejack is [Needy]

“Hey!” she complained. “Ah ain’t Needy!”

“First time I’ve seen someone get that,” Dash commented with something akin to awe. And a little bit of jealousy.

“Um. Congratulations,” Fluttershy muttered.

“Oh! Achievements are fun!” Pinkie Pie cast the spell on herself and started randomly making numbers.

> 27 (1-100)

> 43 (1-100)

> 18 (1-100)

> 77 (1-100)

> 259 (1-500)

> 100 (100-100)

“Would you please stop that?!” Dash elbowed her hyperactive earth pony friend. “Geez!”

“Awww! But RNG is fun!”

“Yeah, until it screws you over.” She bowed amiably to Applejack. “Congrads.”

A second later, and the farmpony felt the pendant around her neck. At least it wasn’t some gaudy, fru-fru piece of jewelry. It looked to be etched iron or steel without a single gemstone or bit of finery to it. No sooner was it in place, than the magic within identified its owner and Applejack felt a flood of strength and vitality course through her. Stomping a hoof, she tried to test just how much it had enhanced.

“Next, we have…” Twilight levitated up a leather and iron collar with a single inlaid gemstone. “According to the identify spell, this is ‘Sniffles Collar of the Invoker.’”

“Then why wasn’t Sniffles wearing it?” Pinkie asked. “Whatever! Roll-ing!”

> 7 (1-100)

Only to suddenly slump, disheartened by the super low roll.

“RNG! Why must you make Gummy cry!” she wailed.

“If you want that unsightly thing, you’re welcome to it,” Rarity observed, turning up her nose.

Twilight got ready to roll; since it was a good neckpiece for an arcane mage, according to Spike anyway. He was giving her a less than subtle thumbs up. In the middle of doing so, however, a watery eyed Pinkie Pie was suddenly inches away, looking up at her like she was about to kick a puppy… and then kick a kitten into a puppy.

“I… I can’t do it!” Twilight hung her head. “I’ll pass, too.”

“You guys are the best!” Pinkie shot right up into the air like a rocket, only to pop up behind Twilight and wrap the unicorn in a crushing hug. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” With a poof she caught a dodging Rarity and repeated the full-body-hug-of-doom. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

She cartwheeled past wearing her new blue neckpiece.

“The last thing is this.” Twilight levitated the final piece of rare item loot. “A ‘Lunar Ritualist’s Dagger.’”

This one didn’t have a suffix like the other two items, and it clearly wasn’t meant to be kept anywhere near the neck. Twilight had found it in Catnip’s robes, and as the name implied, it was a magical dagger of some sort. The material was dark and the energies powerful, but not necessarily malicious. On one side there was the ancient Equestrian pictograph for “light” and on the other “shadow.” According to her guidebook, this was a good weapon for a mage, warlock or priest, notably a shadowpriest, thanks to the spellpower, intelligence and stamina it granted its wielder. It also seemed to provide some resistance to shadow magic.

“Rarity,” Twilight asked, seeing the other unicorn weighing her options. “Do you…?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she answered, waving a dismissive hoof. “I believe Fluttershy and I are both waiting for a staff to drop, isn’t that right?”

The timid druid nodded haltingly. “Yes.”

“I guess I’ll take it then!” She smiled at her friend. “Thanks, Rarity!”

Twilight touched the hilt of the dagger, and felt its power augment her own. Sheathing it, she remembered Trixie having similar equipment with her when Twilight had “dueled” with her back in Ponyville. It was no wonder she had won so easily. Not only was Trixie several levels advanced in comparison, she had been going with her guild in adventures, gathering powerful artifacts and equipment to enhance her magic!

“Still waiting for a good pally drop,” Dash said with a grunt. Seeing her friends staring at her, Equestria’s fastest pegasus shrugged. “What? Is it so bad I want a giant warhammer with a skull on it that shoots rainbows when I swing it?”

“…”

“No,” she concluded, rose colored eyes narrowing. “No, there’s nothing strange about that at all.”

- - -

When they got back to Morning Star’s Camp, one of several interesting things happened.

First, the six Elements of Harmony handed over the ponies they had saved from the Twilight Encampment. The Royal Guard had gladly taken them in, settling them in the middle of the camp and giving them food and water and thorough medical attention. Captain Morning Star had even rewarded the six fillies for brining the civilians back; an unnecessary gesture on his part, but one he insisted on going through: ‘counts as a quest’ he said.

They had then been free to hand in the rest of their finished quests. The guard medicpony had thanked them for defeating Catnip and Sniffles and told them that no further animal attacks had occurred since collecting the manticore tails earlier. The forest to the north was clear, and now so was the south, with the cultists in full retreat. He’d awarded each of the young mares with their choice in bracer, suited to their class, along with some gold for their trouble and a restorative magical potion.

At the same time, Twilight had just handed over the Ten Marks to Captain Morning Star for ‘[34] Rites of Passage’ when a bright light briefly shrouded her, forming a small pillar that reached a couple yards into the sky.

“Grats!” Pinkie popped in, giving Twilight another impromptu hug. “One more step towards level 85!”

“What? I just leveled?” Twilight asked, looking down at her herself. She didn’t feel that different. Maybe a little stronger. A tad smarter. Maybe her mana pool was just a teeny bit bigger?

Checking her spellbook, Twilight confirmed that se had a new talent point to spend.

‘Neat!’

One of the things she was now powerful enough to learn was called ‘Presence of Mind’ allowing her to use any spell with an ordinary cast time instantly, every two minutes. That meant no incantation or drawing of power. The first spell used after she entered a ‘clearcasting’ state could be performed on demand and without interruption. That definitely sounded useful. Checking the alternatives anyway, she went back to ‘Presence of Mind’ and decided to add it to her arsenal. Selecting it with her mind, she felt the spellwork written in her book by Fizzle Boombox begin to unravel. Finding her powerful enough to master the technique, the words shot through the air, down Twilight’s horn, and straight into her mind.

Knocked onto her backside with a ‘thump!’ Twilight shook her head, dizzily.

“That was one of Master Boombox’s spells, alright!” Pinkie confirmed. “It isn’t a Boombox spell if it doesn’t explode!”

Morning Star took that moment to interrupt. “This side of the chasm is clear, as far as I can see. I’ve already tasked some of my colts to prepare a replacement bridge; one that the Twilights won’t be able to knock out.”

He dropped the Marks of Twilight into a pouch, attached to his armored saddle.

“Now, when you cross-”

“More quests!?” Pinkie appeared nose to nose with the dour unicorn guard. Bright blues eyes bugged out, a sharp contrast to the Captain’s half lidded stare.

“Um. Yes.” A hoof came up to push Pinkie Pie back and onto her rump. “If you’d let me finish-”

“Please,” Twilight prompted, cutting him off again. “Oops. Sorry.”

Morning Star groaned. “Okay. One more time. When you cross over to the castle side of the chasm, we have identified several things you may want to be aware of.”

“First,” he began. “You’ll find more cultists carrying Marks of Station. The lower orders will have Marks of Twilight, which I’ll be happy to accept in groups of ten. Higher ranked cultists will have Marks of Command, which you can redeem for items here. Her Majesty has placed a bounty on all Twilight Cultists within Equestria, and we just received some new equipment to exchange for Marks…”

“Oh! OH!” Pinkie held up her arm, waving it frantically. “Over here! Oh! I’ve got a question! Over here!”

Morning Star’s half lidded stare remained unmoved.

“OH OH OH!!” Pinkie Pie waved her hoof in his face. “Pick me! Question! Question!”

“THIS ISN’T A CLASSROOM!!” He bellowed, blowing the Pink pony’s hair back. Facehoofing, he sighed. “Miss Pie. What is it?”

Pinkie Pie shook her head, hair puffing back out.

“Why can’t we get the upgrades and new equipment now, and hand in the Marks later?” she asked, leaning in to pout. “Don’t you trust us, Mister Guardpony?”

Staring at her, he lifted a hoof to slowly and gently push her back again and out of his face.

“I’d love to, but rules are rules. We don’t take IOUs.”

“Aww!”

“Anyway,” he continued. “As I was saying. Please bring back Marks of Twilight in groups of ten for a reward in gold. Marks of Command can be redeemed individually for pieces of armor. Additionally, if you defeat a very high ranking Cultist, he or she may be carrying a Mark of Domination. If you bring it to me, I’ll be happy to exchange it for one of our most powerful weapons.”

“Oh! Corrupted Ashbringer?!”

“… No. We don’t have one of those.”

Twilight cleared her throat, sparing the dour Guard from more of Pinkie’s strange questions. “We’ll bring back any Marks we find, Captain.”

“Good,” he inclined his head to her in thanks. “We also have intelligence on the castle side of the chasm. Take a look at this.” He used his unicorn magic to levitate out a new map and hold it up for Twilight and Pinkie to see.

“Here,” and part of the map glowed. “Is where we will erect the bridge. Once you get across, you will be in the area identified as the ‘Courtyard.’ Twilight cultists have been seen there erecting fortifications. They know their camps have been taken out and they’re getting ready for an attack. My colts will escort you across the bridge and begin attacking the cultists. With your help, we should be able to secure the Courtyard.”

“The bad news,” Morning Star continued, with a slight crinkling of his blue eyes. “Is that we have also identified the leader of the Pegasi guarding the Courtyard. He is a former Royal Guard who now goes by the name Blood Diver.”

“He came up with the name himself?” Pinkie asked.

“I can only assume so.” Morning Star made a gold star in the Courtyard on the map. “Since the bridge will be our only way across the gorge, we will secure it and the Courtyard while you do what you need to do elsewhere in the castle…”

While the Captain explained this, Rarity and Applejack sat down nearby and they in turn were soon followed by Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. Everyone had taken care of their business around the camp and were now listening in on what had to be done next.

“…directly to the west of the Courtyard is the Cloister. Most of the roof has fallen in, but we’ve seen lights moving around under the remaining overhangs. You’ve already been to the Chapel of the Elements of Harmony, north of the Courtyard. There is also an area to the East, right here, that we have identified as a crypt or mausoleum.”

“Ooh, creepy!”

“Pardon,” Rarity spoke up. “But what is a mausoleum doing at Princess Luna’s old castle?”

“I can answer that!” Twilight happily answered, prompting the Captain to raise an inquisitive eyebrow.

“You see,” the bookworm and history buff happily explained, “Long before it was abandoned, the Castle of the Two Sisters was also a Summer Retreat and Monastery. Details are sketchy, but at some point Princess Luna moved out of Canterlot and decided to raise the moon from here, year-round. The Lunar Court and her personal guards also moved with her, and those ponies brought their servants with them. A Mausoleum would be required as the population of unicorns within the castle increased.”

“That is correct,” Captain Morning Star confirmed and nickered as the rest of the story piqued his own sense of honor. “The Tombs below the castle have remained undisturbed for a thousand years. Until recently… that is. Not too long before we arrived, these Twilight Cultists greedily broken open the Mausoleum to plunder the riches within. Now ghosts and other enraged spirits are leaving the crypts below to attack the living on the surface.”

“Ghastly!” Rarity gasped, recoiling. “Defiling a tomb like that? What were they thinking!”

Fluttershy shook her head sadly.

Even Pinkie Pie frowned, uncharacteristically.

“Well, we already knew these guys were bad ponies,” Dash reminded them with a scowl of her own. “So no big surprise that they’d do something like this.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to go into that tomb and put those spirits to rest,” Morning Star continued. “But it would make the surface more secure and keep our flanks safe as we push into the rest of the castle. One of our scouts also indicated a colony of large spiders in that area, so watch out for them if you head into the crypts.”

He highlighted an area west of the Courtyard and Cloister.

“Finally, we have the Her Majesty’s Tower Observatory. This is the most intact area within the castle ruins, and we believe it to be the center of Twilight Cult activity. To defeat them in Everfree Forest, we need to take them out in there and stop whatever they’re doing. When you and your friends are ready, Miss Sparkle, speak to me again and we will reconstruct a bridge across the chasm and escort you across to attack the Courtyard.”

- - -

“Ah don’t much like the look’a what they’re doin’ out there,” Applejack said, hearing Twilight approach. She had her back to the Royal Guard camp as she looked out, across the gorge. Only an apple’s throw away laid the other side, partly shrouded in dark fog.

She’d come lightly equipped, but after the fights before and after picking up some spending coin, she’d exchanged a few bits for some extra barding armor. It looked like it had seen better days but it was better than what she’d come with. It wasn’t a rare item of mystic power, but the silver and steel Guardpony barding would turn aside a hoof or horn or claw. Her left foreleg, that not too long ago had been bitten and poisoned by the largest manticore she had ever seen, was now healed and lightly wrapped in white mageweave bandages. Edged steel ran up from her hooves to her elbows. She’d exchanged her hat for a plain Guardpony helmet as well.

Applejack was as ready as she ever would be, but still she couldn’t help but frown at what was on the other side of the gorge.

“Out there?” Twilight repeated, asking.

“You mean at the castle?” Spike guessed.

The young dragon also taken a few minutes to wander around and see what was what. He’d reported back and identified which among the earth pony Royal Guard had offered to repair damaged equipment and which was willing to trade items found on the battlefield. One of them even seemed willing to buy junk, like bits of damaged armor and tattered cloth… for some reason.

Applejack nodded at the pair of them. “Ya’ll remember what was in there before?”

“I remember it being basically empty.” Twilight took a moment to think back to that day. Confronting Nightmare Moon had been foremost on her mind at the time, so she hadn’t gotten a great look around, but she couldn’t recall much of note. “Unless you mean the Elements of Harmony?”

“There was that,” Applejack admitted, “But that ain’t what ah was talkin’ about. I guess ya didn’t see it last time? Over yonder there.” She pointed with a hoof to one particular area, by the castle ruins.

Twilight didn’t see it. “What?”

“That there tower, tha Observatory ah mean.”

Twilight saw it. There were only two areas left in the ruins: as the Captain had described, there was the chapel, where the Elements of Harmony had been kept last time (or the stone replicas of them anyway), and a crumbling tower directly adjacent. The Lunar Observatory. Twilight recognized it as where Nightmare Moon had teleported her before. Her friends must have navigated their way up while Twilight and the corrupted Princess squared off. It was pretty smashed and overgrown, but still more intact than any other structure.

“There more than just’a staircase leadin up,” Applejack clarified, her tone concerned. “There was ah door leadin’ down, too. Some kinda big, locked wine cellar. But I reckon those ponies over there ain’t come all this way ta look fer millennia old vintage. They’re here fer somethin’ big.”

“Something buried beneath the Observatory?” Twilight asked, tapping a hoof to her chin.

“Could be.” The plain spoken warrior adjusted her steel and silver helm. “Won’t rightly know till we go over and have a look see.”

Twilight agreed and spent a few long seconds watching the other side.

There was no going back now. They were headed for another fight.

“Are you two ready?” Rarity asked, softly moving up on them from behind. She sounded worried, herself, but determined. “If you don’t mind, Fluttershy and myself will be behind instead of in front. I don’t much like the look of things over there; most unwelcoming.”

“I’ll go round up Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie,” Twilight offered. “I don’t know what could be taking so long that they need to hang out around the mailbox…”

The unicorn went off to check on their distracted paladin and shaman, taking Spike with her. Applejack remained where she was, and Rarity joined her, though she neatly unfolded a cloth to sit on. Captain Morning Star was standing with two other royal Guard unicorns, waiting for everyone to get ready to cross. Surprisingly, the atmosphere wasn’t particularly tense. To a stallion, the Royal Guards seemed eager to have another crack at the cultists across the way.

Since they had a few minutes, Rarity produced a few bolts of mageweave, and started sewing. Applejack paid it little mind at first. She’d seen Rarity at work before. This time, there was no mannequin, and no beautiful threads and fabrics and gems and other high culture accoutrements. Rarity was making good on her word earlier and making a mageweave bag. It was, Applejack thought, the first time she had seen her fashion conscious friend make anything simple and practical.

Rarity was economical in her use of the magical cloth. Pieces floated in the air and the unicorn hummed softly to herself while she worked. Strips of cloth wound around and around, coming together from the bottom even as they coiled up like a pair of snakes. Black thread sewed it all together, and the magical fabric absorbed the stitching and melted together. Applejack could sort of see how it would look when it was finished: a plain, alabaster white and gold pouch. Functional. Efficient. “Pretty” in that way.

Supposedly, the magic within would allow it to hold more than its actual volume.

“Applejack?” Rarity asked, though her eyes never left her concert of cloth and thread.

The farmgirl craned her neck. “Yep?”

“I’ve never seen you fight like you did earlier today.”

That wasn’t an unexpected observation. Applejack replied by noting, “Ah’ve never seen ya heal a pony before, neither.”

“I never seriously bothered before today.” The dress-maker admitted, eyeing her near finished mageweave bag and moving it slightly to check one of the angles. “I’m glad I remembered how to do it at all.”

“Ya always struck me as more a mage type, like Twilight back there.” Applejack saw a bemused expression on the white unicorn’s face.

“Really?” she asked.

“Sure. Showin’ off with all that fancy blastin’ and bright magic…”

“So you think I’m a show-off?” Rarity sounded offended, but not really angry. Instead, she smiled. “Don’t answer that.”

“An’ here Ah was hopin’ for a chance to yell, ‘Ah… am… Rarity!!’ at the top’ah mah lungs.”

Rarity had the grace and dignity to blush at her behavior, but not to shrink from it. “In my defense, I did look absolutely fabulous in those wings. And I do enjoy turning heads.”

Applejack chuckled and went back to staring at the castle.

“But…” Rarity continued. “I was never like Twilight. I could never just read about a spell and do it by virtue of simply wanting to do it. My magic is in the details. The aesthetics. The beauty. Sadly, I imagine I wouldn’t be the most powerful mage… though I like to think I could be the most elegant.”

Applejack didn’t dispute any of what she heard.

“On the other hoof.” Rarity finished the bag, floated it down in front of her companion. “Applejack the Barbarian? Defender of apples everywhere? That, I can see. Here you go, darling, what do you think?”

“Ya made this fer me?” The farmer and part-time prot warrior stared at the bag that floated down into her hooves. She only realized then that the golden color enchanted into the bag was the same as her hair. There was even a small red apple design sewn into the flap, between a pair of metal buttons. No ostentatious gems or filigree or anything.

The businesspony in Applejack also knew magical bags weren’t exactly cheap –

“Ah can’t…”

Rarity just speared her with a level look. “Applejack. You know me by now, don’t you?”

The apple farmer nodded and lowered her head. “Thank’ya kindly, Rarity. Ah like it.”

“Now for Twilight’s!” The tailor artisan started afresh on a second bag. “But if you’d like to share, Applejack, I wouldn’t mind knowing where you learned to fight so…” she paused, searching for just the right word. “So tenaciously?”

“Ah suppose ah can tell ya. Plus, ah’m curious why ya’ll became a priest.”

“Fair enough,” Rarity agreed. “My own story isn’t terribly interesting, sad to say.”

“Ah’right. Lesse, it was a while back…”

- - -

Earth pony technology was an eclectic mix of ponypower, machinery, and just a bit of magic. Sometimes, the form that magic took was elbow grease. Now, Sweet Apple Acres wasn’t just in the business of piling apples in carts, despite that being the image that outsiders had of the operation as a whole. It was one the Apple family even encouraged, since it promoted a lively, homey sales pitch: that the apples were straight from the tree, to the cart, to the customer.

Sometimes this was true, but the entire operation was far more complex. From the start, planting and harvesting and restocking were all staggered to get the most out of the growing seasons. Tons of apples were stored on-site at the farm, graded and sorted and separated. These had to be kept fresh with magical machinery until their optimal sale date, which varied by the type of apple and the type of product. While Pegasi handled rainfall, and there was minimal irrigation required, and the area around Ponyville was perfect apple orchard climate…

That also meant that there were plenty of apple-eating insects and other pests, not to mention the ever present threat of harvest devastating diseases or fungi. Earth pony technology and ingenuity was required. Sweet Apple Acres only sprayed once a year, to destroy tree-killing burrowsprites, and they hired unicorns to cast disease prevention spells four times yearly. Most of the harvesting and maintenance of the fields was done with pure good old fashioned ponypower.

Where ponypower alone could not keep pace was in production.

Sweet Apple Acres sold all manner of Apple related products, from Apple Jam to Apple Pies to Apple Fritters to Apple Sauce. Even the ‘bad apples’ not deemed fit for pony consumption were used, either to feed the livestock or to crush oil from the seeds or to make vinegar. Apple alcohols were another specialty, and wine and other spirits were sold as far as Manehattan. Most of the year, Applejack worried less about ‘apple bucking’ and more about running the family run factory that was a modern Equestrian Farm.

With all that setting established, Applejack had been outside a barn repairing the Sweet Apple Acre’s “Granny’s Own” “Old Fashioned” Apple Sauce canning machine when the end of the freakin’ world came down around her hooves. A blast of heat like the mouth of a volcano had swept under the machine, and for a moment, she had been afraid the canning machine would collapse on top of her, burying her beneath a tone of metal and wood.

Dropping her tools in a panic, she’d scrambled out from under the machine. Two seconds after getting her legs out, and a second after telling for her brother to find out what the hay was happening… she’d died.

Applejack died.

The last thing she’d seen was an entire field of apple trees disappearing behind a pyroplastic wall of fire and black ash. There hadn’t been time to curse, scream or pray. Her life failed to flash before her eyes; instead she was treated to the sight of the barn to her left ceasing to be. It seemed as if the entire half of the farm she was facing had been dipped into a volcanic caldera. Then the force and the fire washed over her like a tidal wave, and she died.

That had been Applejack’s experience with Deathwing and the Cataclysm.

Of course, it wasn’t the end. Or else how would she be sitting next to ya, Rarity, gabbin’ about what happened. So hold onto’yer horses n’ humans, wouldya? Whatda’ya think this is, tha end’a tha story? Just go back’ta makin’ that bag and listen.

~

“Your narrative is slipping, dear. Proper Equestrian, please.”

~

Right.

Anyhow…

Anyway. That vast wave of fire wasn’t the end. Soon after Deathwing deep breathed Ponyville and the surrounding area, the Sister Princesses Celestia and Luna had arrived. Together, they performed a mass resurrection spell that restored the recently slain, though it exhausted their magical reserves in the process. What few knew was that Equestria was soon to have an influx of visitors. Also, what few knew was that there was a range component to the Mass Resurrection.

Sweet Apple Acres had not been within the Resurrection Window.

Thus, the first thing Applejack felt was the loving embrace of a pair of goblin Jumper Cables. To be specific, the Jumper Cables attachment included within the standard Gnomish Army Knife. These were often jokingly referred to as “nipple jumper cables” or just “nipple clamps” by those who used them. They were not the most pleasant way to return to the world of the living. Also, the nickname was, sadly, quite accurate.

“WHAT THE HAY N OATS?!!?”

Had been her first words.

~

“I must remember to request Pinkie not try and resurrect me with this method.”

“Ya can say that again. Now, where was ah?”

~

“Ouch. Please tell meh these ain’t what thay look like.” Applejack sat up, looking from her singed chest to the figure standing over her. She’d expected the blur to turn into a pony, but it was refusing to do so. The strange figure pressed a button on the side of some strange device, and the clamps detached and rolled up, like measuring tape.

“Ah, well, it worked after all. Fer once. The lass lives.” The strange creature spoke in a strange accent as it turned around. “Ya are a lass, aren’t ya?”

It took a few seconds for her to realize:

A. She was alive, somehow.

B. She felt like she’d been struck by lightning… in all the wrong places.

C. This thing was asking if she was a she?

“Ah… Of course Ah’m a filly!” she yelled. “What the hay are ya! What are ya doin’ here?!”

The creature chuckled, amused, broad back moving beneath barding the likes of which Applejack had never seen before. The … not-pony… stood effortlessly on hind legs, lacking either a tail or a mane. It was covered in cloth and leather and glittering metal. Plates of the stuff covered the back and the shoulders and forelegs, except the creature’s forelegs were strange. They ended in digits, like Spike’s “hands.” These, too, were wrapped in leather and mail and steel. The creature was taller than a pony, but not by a great deal, and it was built as solidly and stoutly as a barrel.

“Ya just stay back an’ outta the way, wouldn’t ya lass?” the creature asked. “Ah gots business ta take care of.”

It slung what looked like a shovel to the side and then back to rest it over its – and it sounded like a he, so – his shoulder. Applejack shook her head, trying to clear her obviously warped vision. It looked almost like that massive shovel was an axe, except the two heads of it were huge and glowing with bits of fire.

“W-what?” she asked, but wasn’t even sure herself of the question.

The creature, a dwarf she would later learn, ignored her and charged into the still raging infernos that blazed across Sweet Apple Acres. The surreal sight of her precious farmland aflame turned slowly to indignation and shock and then back to confusion. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it could well have also been a half hour or more, before she remembered the rest of the farm and her family. Whirling around, she’d turned to see the family house intact. Not long after, she remembered, before dying, that Apple Bloom was in school, and Big Macintosh and Granny were in town, selling some fresh pastries. Her quiet older brother always did have a quiet knack for getting fillies to buy from him.

Dazed, but alive, she’d watched what she’d expected to be the end of Sweet Apple Acres; burned to the ground on her watch after six hundred years of family owned prosperity. Yet, that hadn’t happened. Instead, things got weirder.

The pegasus ponies made it rain…

But the fires that threatened to devour her family farm hadn’t gone out. Some of them did, yes, but others got bigger and angrier. They pulled away from scorched trees and farmland, forming into twisting, burning shapes, like your mannequins Rarity.

~

“Your narrative, Applejack.”

~

Oops.

Well, some of the shapes were pony-like, and some were non-ponies. They swept up what was left of the timber and started tromping around in the rain. A few actually turned up at the clouds, shaking their hooves in anger, and started throwing balls of fire into the sky. Not fans of pegasus weatherworking, those fire elementals. Others decided that if it rained, then that meant they would fight in the shade.

~

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Thank ya”

~

The dwarf charged right into them before they could reach the other barns or the house. If one started to head off in another direction, he would just holler at it, or throw an axe, and it would immediately turn to deal with the crazy creature. You wouldn’t think an axe or a hammer would be that useful against a being of pure fire and ash, but through all the yelling and swinging and thundering as he stomped the ground, this one strange being rounded up and destroyed every elemental that arose from the ashes of Sweet Apple Acres.

A few royal Guardponies flew by, saw the creature at work, and kept going. Big Mac and Granny returned, watched the fight with confusion and properly slack jaws, and then they’d picked her up and reminder her that this wasn’t the time to be sitting on her duff. There were fields to check, damage to evaluate, losses to calculate, and still a few fires to put out.

Hours later, that damn creature was still fighting, cursing and hollering and beating down any elemental that emerged from the broken and burned and now muddy earth. Big Mac had tried to approach him at some point only to be driven off. It was the first time in years that Applejack had seen her brother with what looked like a tanned hide, the flat of a rather hot axe having found his flank and sent him scurrying.

The mad dwarf was still out there the next day.

Applejack woke up, looked out the bathroom window, and saw him forcing something sharp into the burning maw of a stone giant with burning cuffs and infernal writing across its body. The dwarf had been in the middle of a tirade regarding the elemental monster’s family lineage. Amazingly, the battles never strayed into the remaining farmland and the dwarf never left the battered and cursed half of the property. When there was nothing four or five times his size to kill, the stout humanoid would stomp around, demanding that something – anything – some out and fight it.

Apple Bloom returned home on the second day. Before then, she had been kept with all her classmates in the town. Applejack had visited her there and tried to keep her calm about the situation on the farm. She hadn’t mentioned the insane dwarf.

Once she learned about him however, Apple Bloom being Apple Bloom, she had immediately tried to chat up the strange creature that had claimed their southern fields as a personal battleground. Applejack and Big Mac had been forced to keep a constant eye on her. Even if the creature wasn’t inclined to give the little filly a tanning like he had a certain big red stallion, he was clearly a few apples short of a bushel. Not to mention the fact that those fields had been crawling with monsters made out of living flame.

Finally, blessedly, on the third day, Applejack was able to wake up without the sound of fighting or shouting outside. The south fields were clear: not a fire elemental in sight. Also, not a single standing tree in sight, but she’d had days to accept that fact. The pegasus ponies were still keeping rain pouring down every couple hours to finish rooting out any hiding fire-critters.

Investigating, she’d found the creature sitting in one of the empty barns, one gauntleted hand resting on Apple Bloom’s head. On the verge of yelling her lungs out, Applejack stopped. The fact of the matter was that she had expected something silly like this to happen, and thus she had had a few days to get ready for it. The predictable thing would have been to overreact, scream, try and grab Apple Bloom, all that good stuff. Problem was that the last few days of craziness had worn down her desire to act predictably.

Instead, she just stared at the dwarf gently patting her little sister, like one would a small dog.

“Aye,” he finally said, lifting his mailed hand to point at her. “Yer a funny breed’a pony, ain’tya?”

~

“Don’t laugh!”

“So sorry, Applejack, but the image is just too amusing.”

“A funny breed of pony. That’s you alright!”

“Shut it, ya crash happy pegasus.”

“Hey! I don’t crash that often!”

~

In the end, they’d skipped right to tolerating the strange dwarf. After three days of fighting in the fields, even he was exhausted. His weapons were near broken. His armor half melted. He was covered in magical bandages, thanks to some skill in first aid, but clearly not about to go anywhere for at least a little while.

It may have been a mistake to give him whiskey.

“Aye, that’s the stuff! More, lass! You’ve got more?” The seemingly invincible dwarf stumbled around the barn, an entire cast of alcohol under one arm. “Where’s me mug? Who took me mug? Show yerself ye scoundrels! Yer mother was a troll if ever I saw one, and not a pretty troll neither!”

It may also have been a mistake to bring him food.

“Now this hits the spot!” The dwarf declared, throwing an empty pie pan across the barn before digging into a handful of apple fritters. “But where’s the meat, lass? The meat? Don’t ya got any mutton ‘er chops ‘er leg’a’lamb ‘er whole turkeys? Ach, it’s been forever since I had me a good pork shank! Weren’t there a swine’er two round ere somewhere?”

It may have been a mistake not to hide the rest of the alcohol, once he drank all the whiskey.

“Wa-hahaha! I knew ya was hidin’ more ah this down home moonshine!” Again with the stumbling, except this time he managed to catch her hooves as she tried to get him to sit back down. Within moments, she was in the air as he gaily stung her back and forth. “Yer a good lass! A silly pony, but a good lass! I tell ya what, I’ll show ya how we brew things in Dun Morogh!”

~

“Ha! Silly pony.”

“OH! Are we having flashbacks? Can I help?!”

~

Suddenly Pinkie Pie was there!

“It isn’t a Ponyville party without Pinkie Pie!” She yelled, grabbing the dwarf’s barrel of apple liquor and finishing it in one gulp. She then crushed the barrel against her forehead somehow. “Let’s get drunk and hit the town and do things we’ll regret!”

“I like ya, pony!” the warrior declared, without a doubt in his mind. “Pink pony is the best pony!”

~

“Pinkie Pie! This is mah story and I’ll thank ya to stay out of it! That weren’t what happened at all!”

~

And then Rainbow Dash, the coolest pony, showed up.

“I have arrived,” she announced, as rainbow colored fireworks framed her superb silhouette against the front of the barn. Her tail majestically caught the wind, a cascade of colors unique to all of Equestria. Throwing back her head, her equally awesome mane caught the dying rays of sunlight, reflecting a coruscating prism of light. An arrogant smirk, well earned by countless victories in the air, crossed her face as she swept her eyes over the stunned ponies in attendance.

“Oh my gosh! It’s Rainbow Dash!” Storm Front, Captain of the Wonderbolts, gasped. He was immediately knocked back, struck by love at first sight, for the mare before him was -

~

“Are you two quite finished?”

“The Ballad of Rainbow Dash has only begun!”

“None’a that happened!!”

~

Despite drinking enough spirits to knock out half the Apple Clan, and despite eating enough food to choke a dragon, the dwarf was still alive and kicking by the next day. At some point over the night, he’d come up with some way to repair his armor and weapons. They were arranged along a wall, and the layers of metal and leather were hanging from a wooden post. For the first time, she saw the creature that lay beneath: pale, coatless skin, marked by old scars. Celestia knew what the lower half of him looked like or why he had so much hair coming down from around his mouth.

“Ah assume you’ll be leavin’ us soon?” she asked, standing at the entrance of the barn. And no, there wasn’t any dramatic wind or fireworks or ‘light from a sunset’ or whatever. So shut yer yap.

“Aye,” he replied in that strange accent. Picking up a large block of metal, a shield, he examined the edges for nicks or cracks. “Got places ta go. Thing’s ta fight.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. This creature had done so much, but was also so damn strange.

“Why?” Applejack finally asked. “Why’d ya save me? Why’d ya fight back there?”

“Cause I wanted ta. That’s all, lass.”

Incredulous, she shook her head. It had to be a lie. A cover up. “So ya just walk around doing what ya want, is that it?”

“Actually,” he replied, smiling behind his beard. “I fly around. On me griffin.”

“Ah… ah don’t even know what ta say ta that,” she admitted.

This was not anything like she had expected. There was no ‘learning to trust the strange intruder’ phase. There wasn’t even a ‘learning to like or tolerate him’ phase. He wasn’t a free loader, what with saving her life and the farm and whatnot, but he hadn’t said one word about his past or his reasons for much of anything. She didn’t know a thing about him. It wasn’t even so much that she trusted him in any real way, just that she knew there was nothing to do about him being there, so the best thing was to be neighborly.

It was like having a small, fat little dragon living next door.

~

“That wasn’t a crack about my weight was it? That’s just baby fat!”

~

“You promised you’d show me how you made alcohol where you come from.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said it. Not at the time. Later, she would note that it was part of a calculated master plan to keep him around so she could learn how to fight for three days straight against monsters attacking the farm. Yes. Master plan. Applejack was known for master plans! What are you laughing at?

Regardless, the words came out, and there was nothing to do about them then.

“Did I?” the dwarf wondered. “Ah. Aye. Aye. I guess I did.”

His hands came together in a resolute ‘clap.’

“If that’s what I said, then that’s what I’ll hafta do!” The dwarf walked over and slapped her heartily on the side, knocking the pony over entirely. “I hope yer ready, lass! My family ain’t called Thunderbrew fer nothin’!”

Applejack groaned from her impression in a pile of broken crates. For some reason, only one word could be found to express her enthusiasm.

“Yay.”

~

Fluttershy said nothing, but did stick her lower lip out a bit.

~

The art of making Dwarven liquor, Applejack soon learned, was something of a religion. A crackpot, loony religion! In no time flat, the dwarf had pulled together a ton of scrap metal and built a crude still. It looked for all of Equestria like it was a bomb. Or even several bombs, all patched together with rivets. She couldn’t quite imagine how, but it worked.

Apples went in.

Something slightly drinkable came out.

Big Mac loved the stuff. Applejack could barely finish a shot and a half without hitting the floor, and she was named after an alcoholic beverage. The dwarf refused to water it down, and if anything, kept tinkering to get the still to produce even more concentrated murder-water. Then Granny Smith found out, demanded a drink, and proclaimed the schnapps “quite good.” A couple shots later, and the dwarf whose name she still didn’t know agreed to teach her how to fight.

Later, he changed the offer to teach Granny Smith’s granddaughter to fight.

Later still, he amended that to mean that he’d teach “the bigger lass, I guess. Not tha wee tiny one.”

To Apple Bloom’s disappointment. “But what if Ah’m supposed’ta have a Mountain King cutie mark?”

Celestia forbid.

“Ya gota such dainty little hooves, lass!” The dwarf had declared, after kneeling down to inspect her more closely. It was the first and only time Applejack could remember anyone had ever saying something so patently untrue to her, straight to her face and without blinking. Applejack was a working pony. An Earth pony. Her hooves were hardly ‘dainty’ or ‘little’ and she knew it.

“Now ah know yer makin’ funna me,” she’d angrily told him, pulling back her hoof from his hand. “All ya been doin’ is pokin’ and proddin’ and drinkin’ – that there brew is Apple Family property, ya know? What with it bein’ grown on our farm, from our apples, in a still made outta our old machines.”

“Aye. Aye. Don’t get yer saddles in a bunch!” the dwarf scratched his beard, and the chin buried deep within it.

Angrily pawing the ground, Applejack strongly considered head butting the loon.

“Nawh, I ain’t seen mucha how ya ponies fight,” he said, finally getting serious. “Them ponies Celestia had, they fought with these wee horseboots. Looks ta me like some paddin’ an some metal on tha outside, plus a cuttin’ edge around the bottom n’ along tha side. But I also looked around ‘ere and what did I see, but some tools with handles and the like. I just can’t figure whether ya ponies want ta put things in yer hooves ‘er in yer mouths?”

“So!” he decided, laughing heartily. “We’ll just hav’ta do some experimentin ta see what works for ya!”

And so they did.

Thunderbrew was patient, as long as there was a drink waiting somewhere close by. The hardest part was the start: how to get a pony to use a sword, or a sword and shield? A lance or spear, the dwarf suggested, made the most sense for a pony. Like little cavalry, he had said, but then had to describe what cavalry was. Needless to say, Applejack had drawn the line at any attempts to ride her around.

Other weapons were more complicated. In a melee, ponies were typically taught one thing: Buck with the hind legs. That was basically what ninety nine percent of ponies knew when it came to self defense: buck with the hind legs. It wasn’t as if there was a systematic approach to self defense that was widely practiced among ponykind, either. Any forms of pony ‘martial arts’ that may once have existed had long since been relegated to the dark ages of their history.

No: for the average Earth pony, even for the average pegasus or unicorn, the instinctive response to a threat was to turn one hundred and eighty degrees, look crudely over your shoulder with poor one-eyed depth perception, raise your hindquarters, and kick back with all you had. This would be followed by the time honored secret technique of running for your bloody life in some random direction. Sometimes while screaming. Othertimes while cursing. Either one was as good as the other, really.

Applejack had to be trained not to do that.

Why had been aptly demonstrated. The one play fight where she had tried the move, Thunderbrew had simply avoided the kick and hit her on the rump with the stick he was wielding in place of an axe. Unbalanced on just two legs, she’d fallen flat on her face and into the hay. To add insult to injured pride, she’d had a red line tanned onto her cutie mark. Now she knew how Big Mac had felt, back on that day a week ago.

“Donna turn yer back on tha enemy,” he lectured, nudging her with the stick until she rolled over. “Ya ain’t gonna do much good if ya ain’t braced properly neither.”

So no bucking with the hind legs.

Instead, she had to meet the enemy, face the enemy, grapple with the enemy. That, she learned, was the essence of “tanking” – of being a protection specced warrior. A warrior could not flee. A warrior could not turn her back. Where a mage could teleport away or turn invisible, or a rogue vanish, or a hunter play dead, a warrior would die. There was no point thinking about ‘how can I run away.’ Every fight was do or die. The only objective was to walk away afterwards, not back, but forwards and over the body of your beaten enemy.

First, she learned to use her front hooves to grapple, to pin, to slash, to blind, to pummel, to slam. He made hoof-blades for her, like the Royal Guards had… though made of simple steel. Ponies were not large animals. He trained her to always expect to fight things larger than she herself was. He told her never to be afraid just because she was physically overmatched. ‘Defensive stance’ he called it. Applejack learned it. She wouldn’t be easily knocked down.

Harder than that, was the training to use weapons with her mouth. Swords and axes and maces were not designed to be swing around by the teeth. Ponies were, by necessity, handy with things in their mouth. However, this was usually because of the need for fine control, not because they needed to swing a warhammer around for minutes on end.

“There be benefits to both,” Thunderbrew had mused, while she practiced, swinging a heavy metal rod by her mouth to the left and right. She was also balanced on an unsteady bar on top of a bale of hay.

So she learned both. War with the hooves. Weapons strapped to forelegs. A pony had trouble standing upright for too long, unless that pony was Pinkie Pie – yes, you finally got a mention, don’t interrupt – so she had to usually either grapple with an opponent and use them for balance, or keep on three legs. That was when the weapon-in-mouth technique was required. Learning when to trade dexterity for balance was something experience alone could teach.

Messing up was likely to get you bucked with the hind legs. And no one enjoyed that.

“Taunt!” the dwarf roared, and she roared back. “Battle Shout! Demoralizin’ Shout! Intimidatin’ Shout!”

“Charge! Again! Again!” He knocked her back and waited impatiently for her to get ack up. “Nah, lass, up ‘ere! Aim fer the chest!” He pounded a fist against his upper torso. “Again! Charge! Ya ain’t gonna be much’uva warrior if ya can’t Charge ‘er Intercept!”

Finally, days later, Applejack hit the floor, snorting a few strands of hay away from her nose.

“Aye, lass. Aye. That was… good. Ya got spirit ‘n potential.” Thunderbrew kneeled down in front of her, and picked up one of her hooves. “These are still a bit soft, but I’ll give ‘em time.”

She blushed, angrily. “Mah hooves ain’t soft.”

“Lass,” he replied, seriously. “They are.” He let her go and stood up, a veritable wall of dwarf. “I’ve taught ya all I can. Ain’t nothin’ else I can pass on. Not ‘less ya get stronger. Not ‘less ya get tougher. But yer a warrior, now, and ya know what ya need ta know ta defend yerself and yer family. That’s a right good start, I think.”

Black, sober eyes stared down at her.

“If ya ever find yerself in Ironforge, not far from the great gates is a small village called Kharanos. Ya tell em there, that Grim Thunderbrew sent ya. They’ll treat ya right, and they’ll tell ya how ta find me again.”

He turned around, and all she could see was his back: an expanse of muscle and metal, just like before. The old waraxe came up to rest on his pauldrons. This time, unlike before, he deigned to take one last look at her over his shoulder at her.

“I’ll be waitin fer ya, lass.”

- - -

“And that is tha story,” Applejack concluded. “Absolutely no Pinkie Pie an’ no Rainbow Dash.”

“My version would’ve had more parties but yours was good too!” The rose colored shaman was actually sitting still. She grew introspective for a second. “I guess you never know what you’ll learn from making new friends!”

“That would make a good letter to the Princess!” Twilight realized, turning to her assistant. “Spike! Remember to write it down somewhere!”

“We’re still doing that?” he asked, deadpan.

“It was a lovely story, Applejack,” Rarity complimented. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“And me!” Pinkie added.

“And me,” Fluttershy’s voice was soft, as usual.

“And us,” Twilight spoke her herself and Spike, the later frowning as he wrote down yet another in a long line of ‘life lessons’ committed to paper and posterity.

“I guess it was alright, despite not having any racing or Wonderbolts or Rainbooms,” Dash admitted after a moment. She gave Applejack a wink. “I knew you’d learned to fight somehow, but I didn’t know you were so hardcore. I still think my paladin origin story, ‘the Ballad of Rainbow Dash,’ is just a little bit cooler, though.”

“That’s not half as cool as my shaman origin story: Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy’s Bogus Adventure!”

“Um, I don’t remember having a bogus adventure…”

Ignoring the two jokers and the innocent pegasus caught between them, Applejack faced the tailoring unicorn who had prompted the story in the first place. “Ah guess ah’ll have to hear yer bit another time, huh?”

“But of course,” Rarity readily agreed. “Though, as I said, you may find it rather mundane. Everyone!” She floated out five finished bags, each one unique. “Before we head out, I made a mageweave bag for each of you, personalized to your unique looks and attire. I do hope you like them!”

Twilight smiled as her friends gushed over their new bags. Her own was beautiful, with dark blue color interspersed with stars. Canis Minor even had the right number of stars on it! Rarity had remembered! And here she’d thought the combination montage and song hadn’t sunk in! Soon the Elements of Harmony were ready and raring to go.

As they headed towards Captain morning Star, Applejack seemed to think of something. “Hey, sugarcube,” she asked, facing their party leader. “What was takin’ ya’ll so long over by the mailbox, anyhoo?”

“Oh, that.” The violet unicorn rolled her eyes.

“I was just checking my mail!” Dash insisted. “Perfectly normal for a mare to check her mail from time to time!”

“Not suspicious at all,” Pinkie nodded vigorously. “As for me, I was just sending some stuff to my alt!”

“Sugar, you both are just too random.”

“What?” Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash asked in concert, looking at the other. “Us?” They pointed at her at the exact same time. “No we’re not!”

“Okay, everypony,” Twilight spoke up, forstalling any more hijinks. “We ready to head across and do this?”

“Ready check!” Pinkie enthused. “I’m ready and good to go!”

“Same here,” Dash replied.

Fluttershy nodded. “Y-yes.”

Rarity. “As ready as ever.”

Applejack stepped up to the front; to lead the change and meet the enemy head on. Captain Morning Star, having waited patiently, was now anxiously flexing his neck. All he was waiting for was for Twilight to say the word and start the main event.

“Ah’m ready, too.”

“Then!” Twilight faced the Captain, her best friends standing behind her. “We’re all ready. Let’s take that castle!”

- - -
x
- - -

--- Gratuitous Author Notes for Chapter (5) ---

Thanks for the reviews and comments all. For non WOW readers, and at the suggestion of some readers from equestriadaily, I’ll add a little section here to clear up some of the terms used in the fic. I’d planned that even unfamiliar people would get the general meaning by reading the story, but I’ll make sure by adding this here. If any unfamiliar stuff slips through, feel free to ask about it in a review, and I’ll edit this section of the chapter to add it in.

Spec – “specialization” – every class has three of these, and each one has different benefits as a result of specialization. For example, a “frost mage” doesn’t have that many spells in common with a “fire mage” even though they’re both mages. If someone is specced an odd way, then another person examining them may say, “wtf is up with your spec?”

DPS – “Damage per second” – In the story, this is slang for any damage dealing class, like a mage or rogue. Since a mage can only do “dps” they can also be called “pures” whereas classes like shaman or warrior, with alternate tanking or healing specs, are “hybrids.” For example, Twilight is “pure dps” and Pinkie Pie is “hybrid dps.”

Tank – slang for someone who protects the healers and dps by forcing enemies to attack them using taunts and other techniques. Examples include: death knights, feral (bear form) druids, (protection) warriors and paladins.

Heals – “healers” – slang in story (and in verse) for a class that is designed around healing others. They are vulnerable and can’t really dps, but everyone would die without them! Examples include: (holy) paladins, priests, (restoration) shamans and druids.

RNG – “random number generator” – introduced in this chapter 5, RNG is what frequently determines who gets what when loot drops. It creates a number from 1 to 100, though as shown by Pinkie Pie, you can generate numbers from various fields, though people will know you didn’t really roll that 100. If several characters need or want an item that drops, RNG determines the winner. In this story, RNG is an actual spell used by party leaders, much to everyone’s mixture of anger and relief! Damn you RNG!

Grats – “congratulations” – common form of friendly response to when someone else gets an item or achievement. Even if you lose, saying “grats” (while maybe not meaning it) shows you at least act like a good sport. “I’ve only been waiting weeks for that to drop, grats on getting it on your first try! …grr.”

Need/Greed – “Need roll vs Greed roll” – A common means of determining loot distribution with RNG. A “need” roll supersedes a “greed” roll. If four people “greed” an item and one “needs” it, then the needy player always gets it, even if they roll a “1.” Needing too often can make you look like a loot whore, however. Just FYI. Need/Greed is the system Twilight is using. It can sometimes lead to discussions among people about whether they “really need” an item or not.

DE – “de-enchant” – the act or role of destroying magical items and reducing them into various forms of dust and/or essences and/or crystals. These are then used to add enchantments to other magical gear. Normally, a powerful enchanter is needed to de-enchant items. In the old days, you just passed all the gear to them, but now much of the process is automatic. In story, Spike is the designated de-enchanter for Twilight’s party (he can only DE, not enchant).

Shammy loot – “Shaman Loot” – Shammy loot is all that annoying mail that drops when there’s no shaman in the party. You heard me!

Anyway, that should be it.

“What about this Lunar Court thing?” I hear someone saying. “I thought Luna was left all alone in her throne room to go insane from loneliness and grief?”

Oh silly fanon. You don’t have to be stuck in solitary confinement to get depressed or go nuts. Or to have a cutie mark meltdown. Even in chap 1, our sweet Princess clearly had a past with some sordid characters. I have some ideas of my own where to go with little Miss Luna and her huge fandom who will no doubt be pissed if anything bad happens to her.

Captain America: “Knights of Luna: Assemble!”

“Hulk thought we were Avengers?”

“No. We’re the Knights of Luna now. Deal With It.”

Comments

[Zeryurijin]

Great story here. Love Applejack's tale of how she became a warrior. And by a Thunderbrew!

[Kencolt]

387668
And who BUT a Thunderbrew would randomly decide to teach a pony how to be a protection warrior? AJ is basically very lucky to have met a clan known for insane drunken decisions-- and the willingness to act on them.

[Kydus]

"I was just sending some stuff to my alt!"
2.bp.blogspot.com/-6QdiP5LYdeE/Tt73-BBZkYI/AAAAAAAAB58/M73rLzHlG6k/s320/PP.png

Although I know nothing of Warcraft other than I've learned from this fic so far, I am thoroughly enjoying your writing as always, Cap'n.

[Furbyz]

This makes me miss WoW so much, which means you have succeeded in writing something pretty special. Haven't played since right before the Cataclysm hit. Now I just imagine my Druid waking up and trying to figure out what's going on.

"Hey guys, I ummm...was over by ICC in cat form and found this plant I'd never seen before. All I know is I ate it and...everything turned green...then I remember crying...and circus music...some loud murlocs...and now I wake up surrounded by candy wrappers, naked and goldless, Thousand Needles is flooded, there are Pandas everywhere, and everyone I know and love is dead and gone. Huh."

[clubbzz]

Shammy loot – “Shaman Loot” – Shammy loot is all that annoying mail that drops when there’s no shaman in the party. You heard me!

Don't be hatin on my awsome loot.

[roryokane]

Typo:

His conditionw as hardly unique; all the captured ponies were in bad shape.

Change “conditionw as” to “condition was”.

[Kencolt]

1960746
Well, that was, admittedly, a pre-Cataclysm thing. before then only Draenei could be Shamans on the Alliance side, and that only after the Burning Crusade went live. However, in dungeons and the like, mail armor with things like Spirit and Intelligence still dropped frequently-- for Alliance parties who couldn't use the darn stuff, especially after level 40 when all the Holy Paladins were trying their best to get plate for that spec. (Which was pretty rare, mind you.) The horde had a similar problem with plate dropping with the same specs-- and again, until the Crusade, there were no Horde Paladins so this was pointless plate, so...