Forward again, and again, and again.

by Zaravan

The Eleventh entry, or: Dirt isn't very comfy.

Well i've decided to waste time by scribbling down in here while i'm taking a break. I'm just laying here, in the north trenchline in my own little slice of dirt. I, like many others, do my best to stay comfortable by decorating it. Or, at least what you could call decorating if you turn your head and squint a little. Not much anyways, just a small solar lamp here, a hole in the side for books there. If it wasn't for dirt getting everywhere it'd be perfect. Then again dirt is inevitable considering where i'm laying right now.

Anyways. It's been like two or three days, i think, since our representatives went up to Canterlot to meet with those Princesses. We've been trading with the locals a bit, mostly bits and bobs. And by that i mean various souvenirs. as well as a number of more precious gems we got from that raid on the diamond dog's slave mine a while back. Nothing too fancy, just food and books mostly. The locals are antsy for some reason, don't know why but from what we could find out things are getting dangerous farther southwest. Apparently there was a minor skirmish with some 'changelings' near Appleoosa i think the town's called. It's right smack-dab in the middle of the arid parts of the badlands, y'know, sand, cactus and cow skulls far as the eye can see. Dunno why anyone would want to live out there but it's not my problem. The rumor mill's also been a' grinding about events in various foreign territories like the Griffon Confederacy, the Minotaur Oligarchy, and the Dragonian Theocracy. Mostly lots of political stuff i can't wrap my head around.

I think i'll grab a snack, maybe chat up one of those nice Zebra fellows we recruited. I like that guy who makes jokes about anything on the spot, he's pretty good. Auran I think his name was. I hope our group come back down from the mountain soon. I wonder, why are the princesses at the top of the latter? Why not just be queen? Bah. Who knows.

Author's Note:

Local Volunteers recruited by the IAF are often lead by veteran personnel. Dubbed as 'Commissars' they are charged with the wellbeing and overall readiness of their platoons. Many Commissars spiral into depression if their platoons are devastated in combat. Thinking often that they had failed to lead them safely.