SBMS170
The wrecks burned downstream from the fortress, here and there where the pinnaces had come aground in the aftermath of the sudden dawn slaughter. Furthest downstream smoked the shattered bulk of the enemy galley, its right rear bulwarks smashed in by one of our own galleys, having put a period to that doomed ship's death-spasms with one of those cheap pot-iron rams I hear the shipwrights were making in place of the proper bronzed beaks that doctrine prescribes.
I stood on the westernmost firing platform of our new fastness, beside three silent bolt-throwers and their muttering crews. We had been barely more than bystanders to the fight, having done nothing more than drawing up the great boom to let loose the loyalist fleet upon our startled enemies. Now the crews were just hanging around, marking time in the evening coolness. The flaming wrecks were about the only interesting things going on that night in our neck of the woods.
Very few casualties had reached my surgery. Supercell was still missing, and I feared that she had drowned somewhere nearby where she had been last seen, burning as she fell over the river. The tiny little flecks of light in the distance marked the lanterns of the search-party looking for her. They had been sent out in rowboats to quarter the downstream, but as the light and the hours faded, hope went with them. To be honest, those ponies should have been back hours ago, but I guess diligence is better than the opposite, even if it was fruitless.
The losses onboard the fleet were the problem of those ships' surgeons, if they had any. I'd trained up a small swarm of emergency or field medics among the hidden Order ponies on board the great fleet, but they could hardly pursue their training while under the gimlet eye of their respective ship-masters and slave-overseers. The casualties in the fleet would have to fend for themselves until the Order could reveal itself to the world.
The mystery of Obscured Blade returned to the front of my mind, as I puzzled at it again. After the skirmishes and pitched battles of the last mud-season of the year, I had expected Blade to be finally chased to ground, along with his few remaining followers. His mistake in continuing his campaign of ambushes and sneak-attacks into the rainy season had come aground in his followers' reduced mobility, and we'd caught or killed so many of them. We had wiped out his ghoul forces almost entirely, by my estimate. Two reported incidents of his ponies assaulting isolated civilian homesteads – and being driven off with losses! – had almost certainly demonstrated his insurgency's faded capacity for mischief.
And yet Obscured Blade himself never quite came to bay. Three times we missed him by the scorched ends of his foreshortened tail, and then – silence. Nothing. We'd heard nothing from the traitors in three weeks, and now we were out of time.
The fleet was on her way, and all the season's preparations and deceits were in motion, barreling down-stream with that great armada of enormous, deadly galleys, swift pinnaces, and savage flame-throwing dromons. The bolt was in flight, and there was naught we could do to summon it back to the machine, nor arrest it in its flight.
It was now time to turtle up for earnest, and pull back the sections and cohorts of the Company into our new fortress. The Shambles was large enough to hold all the swollen membership of the new Company, even including the cadre of Order ponies who'd not been able to plausibly squeeze onto the narrow decks and oar-benches of the fleet. We had done nothing so far which would have evoked the curiosity or suspicion of our fellows in service to the Bride and her Imperial policy.
They'd twig to the double-game soon enough.
In the meantime, Company ponies were working on improving the half-wrecked defenses of the landside fortress walls, clearing firing ranges and kill-zones, moving shifted stonework into a more aesthetic arrangement. I wasn't sold on the idea that the improvements would actually make the fortress any more defensible. That old, paradoxical hulk was such that the more you wrecked it, the better-situated it was for further resistance. He was a stubborn old bastard, the Shambles, and had not been taken by force of arms, but rather betrayal and the sneakiness of an evil old witch too nasty to be seen by innocent ghoul eyes.
Blech, now I need a bath. Hold that thought.
And so it was, that a position whose main purpose was the housing and defense of heavy artillery to protect the entrance to Coriolanus's Lagoon, became our sanctum. We had a number of prisoners hidden away here and there, and as time went on, the ponies being held by the Company had increased. The guards stolen away in the course of inserting our brother-Order into the Arsenal, for instance. Although that group of detainees had proven startlingly fertile grounds for recruitment into the old Company. Apparently prison's boring enough that some donkeys will spontaneously join a cult militant rather than tolerate another minute in the stony darkness.
Carrot Cake had been active in the fighting with Blade's traitors. I guess he had taken it amiss when they tried to ambush his lady. Which probably explains why he approached me on the artillery platforms that night as I watched the burning wreckage of the enemy's scouting squadron lighting up the downstream darkness.
"I want to get Cup Cake out of this stinking hole," he began.
I turned to eye the tall, lanky earth pony. "This stinking hole is a near-perfect defense against further ambushes from Blade, no matter what evil shit he has in his saddlebags. And he's already demonstrated that he has a hate on for our little baking spy. Where is she, anyways?"
"Didn't want that thing between the two of you to get in the way of this. I want to take her out of here. She's not happy. This place makes Dance Hall feel like a happy home, you know? Too much history, all of it bad. Yeah, we'll be alive. But not living. She don't even want to bake in here. Damn, have you seen the kitchen? Even the rats don't want to go in there."
"I don't know what you're asking," I complained. "What can I do about you two getting cabin fever? I'm not in charge of anything, and I wouldn't know where to send you if I could."
"Don't be like that, doc. You want something to happen, the officers make it happen. Everypony wants you to be happy. Your impulses drive half the decisions in this outfit. And I want to take her down with the fleet. When the shit comes down, she won't be able to send in her reports from here anyways. You can tell we're getting set for a siege. Against who, nobody will say. Against the world in general? Screw that. We'll have to start rationing when that happens, and where will she get her sugar then?"
"Wait, back up there. Why the fleet? They're going into crazy danger, and all sorts of wild weirdness. You two will stick out like a sack of baking flour in an armory!"
"Come on, doc," he grinned. "Look at the two of us. Just another pair of earth ponies in a rebellion full of ‘em. And yeah, our accents are a bit off for the west, but I know how to keep my mouth shut when I need ta. And Cup Cake's got that gossip-sponge thing going for her. She sounds like she's chattering, but you'd be amazed how much she gets other ponies to do her talking for her."
He paused, as both of us watched the last mast on the distant, dying galley fall inwards into the unseen depths of the wreck.
"And we need to follow the story. See how it ends. I think she's justifying her… truce with the Mistress by calling it research, an investigation. She's still a good pony, so long as she's doing this thing, investigating us. Watching us. And we won't be doing much stuck here in this bloodstained stone shell. Twiddling our hooves until ponies elsewhere decide our fates. Tartarus, I'm surprised half the Company isn't clamouring to get transferred to the outfit that's going to have all the fun."
"You're a strange pony, Carrot Cake."
"Aw, I figure I'm young. World doesn't seem to be ending on schedule like I thought. Why not see a bit of it before settling down? If we don't die, I figure there might be a world to live in after all."
He paused again, a stormy look crossing his muzzle.
"And if I can keep us busy enough, I can forget about the rest of it. And let it go. They say revenge ruins a pony, and I can feel it. Twisting in my gut. Well, the hay with that. I'd rather go adventuring, then sit and stew!"
"You know you're the standard-bearer. We can't have you taking the heart of the Company away from the Company."
"I never gave a toot about that pig-sticker, Sawbones. You want it? Hay, anypony else wants it? They can have it. Mistress can have some other pony to play pageant, I don't want to do that for the rest of my life. Let us go, doc. We'll go bad here in the dank and dark."
"This is the Company, corporal. We are the dank and the dark." But I smiled at him.
How could I resist an appeal like that? Tam Lane took over as standardbearer. The little donkey had grown up into an enormous, towering percheron of an equine, and fit the role perfectly.
And we shipped the Cakes down to the fleet as they prepared for their production's opening night.
The rest of us could hold down the fortress.
Now I'm positive that someone weeded these manuscripts before they got to my desk. There's clearly material missing out of the SB manuscripts, they're definitely not the complete work! - Faded Palimpsest, 2nd Grade Archivist, Restricted Archives
Oh, the snippets and commentaries of the archivists tell a story of their own. I wonder, at they studying the origin of the new Order of Tambleon or the records of an deranged cult that attacked equestria? So many questions beyond that one, and how long until we find the answers?
Anyone else think Obscured Blade has ferreted out the secret necromancer leaders of the corrupt White Rose, and gone to make a deal with them?
I'd say that was Luna, my dear Faded Palimpset.
8245437 Sounds like the kind of thing the old warlock would do. Use the Rose's lich-lords to get rid of the "heretics" infesting "his" Company, and then turn on them.
8246988
Because they have put these same folks into a position to do so, and still be bound to the spirit and them. An inside pony.
Yet, why are you so set in the view that the company is going to have these things happen? I've noted a strong perceived distaste your views here. That you seem to want the worst to happen, if only to have a sense of justified 'this is what you get' ?
I can be wrong in this view. But in how you phrase things, what you project, this is what I pick up out of it.
As for blade, I wonder, with how things are phrased, not as much how you see this, but why? So I can understand why your distaste runs so strongly on this matter. You have spoken here with passions, conviction, and a personal touch on some things. And while I have gathered some aspects. Others do elude me.
8247017 Huh, no alert to the reply again, maybe my settings are off ...
Okay, first things first, while this may come off as rather rant-ish (and I suppose it is), please do not think I'm attacking you. I can get rather emphatic about things, as well as being frequently told that I have a habit of seeing things in the darkest possible light, and being the most "evil" in my gaming group, so I understand that we are unlikely to see eye-to-eye. (I have also been told that I'm the most "moral" in the group not sure what to make of that ...)
Now on to trying to answer your questions and explain my views ...
Actually one of the first things a new regime often does is purge those traitors who helped get them into power. And Obscured Blade has already proven that being bound to the spirit is no protection against fratricide (is that the right term?). Add in the fact that it is open to debate whether or not the Order sees the Company (and the Spirit) as anything more than a temporary advantage (the Spirit wants love, but the Order has admitted to only providing reluctant lip-service) and the possibility of them feeling any loyalty to the Company once they are no longer needed becomes even more questionable.
To be honest ... it's not so much "this is what you get" as "this is what the Company deserves". They are betraying an employer who has dealt square with them in order to side with war criminals (all those lovely civilians and noncombatants the Rose has murdered ... or possibly worse) to achieve an end that they already know will not actually happen (unless, for some reason, Feufollet put her talk from chapter 201 in the Annals, but didn't pass it along to the Spirit or Company leadership ... possible I suppose, but I find it unlikely). And they're still doing it!
And as for the question of pay ... honestly I don't think it has come up in several chapters. Are the Company getting paid? Was Knockhart and her troops even getting paid? Has anyone been paid? Why is all the pay gone? (Sorry, I couldn't resist )
As for Blade, I'm afraid I don't quite understand your question ... You'd like clarification of my distaste of Blade's behavior? Or of Feufollet's? Or did I completely misunderstand the question?
Maybe you're right and things will manage to turn out ... well not "good", but "better" for Tamblon and our little band, but I'm not expecting it.
And on a tangent, based on what we've seen of the Bride, my feel for her is that she only wants to keep the Empire functioning and Grogar sealed. If she found an "heir" (living or undead) that she believed could actually do that , than I think she would happily shuffle off this mortal coil to ... umm ... (hey, Mitch H, where do the ponies of Tamblon go when they die?)
Of course, armed rebellion and betrayal are not how you get the Bride to think you are a worthy candidate for that whole heir thing ...
8249257 I hope its fixed soon, because its irking on that note for me as well.
It was a catch-all style question for things I asked. And I was asking for how you viewed everything. This helps enlighten me to your views.
And first of all, thank you for replying. It is not in the least negative or downing, but a well thought out reply. And it shows the side of things I hadn't been seeing in my views. And that is what I sought. So kudos!
So you see this more in the way of rebels becoming the new tyrants down this path, and the falls that happen to the same by what history so readily shows to us?
Huh, I hadn't looked as much down this avenue I admit. But keeping more to the nature of a company really beholden only to itself, and of the risk that hiring mercs has. They are not loyal to you by virtue of coin and contract. They are a, well, devil and snake so often waiting to strike at the worst and best times for you. And this area shows a prime example of it.
As for blade himself, I was curious to how he fits into the question of the company as a whole? Given this, is blade the outlier? Is he the former core view of the company, now pushed to the fringe? I sought to understand where he fit in both action and status to you in regards to the company. Sorry if I asked that wrong or strangely.
Though thank you for a lovely reply, and I certainly enjoyed reading it.
8249313 The alert worked! Maybe my gremlins have found something else to amuse themselves with.
Definitely. The Empire is broken and even corrupt in places, but the Rose and Order are arguably much worse. Add in the fact that what the Rose did to every donkey in the Westlands appears to be common knowledge (and what they did to those villages during this most recent campaign season soon will be), and even if the Imperial military is defeated, there will likely be years of civil insurrection as every donkey (and possibly a fair number of others) who can't (or won't) flee the world fights the New Order as viciously as possible. (Under the theory of "we can surrender and our families and friends will be butchered or worse, or we can fight, take some of the bastards with us, and our families and friends will be butchered or worse".)
Granted, I'm still very angry with the Company on a personal level. They took contract directly with the Bride, who appears to be a decent leader (even if she's not keeping as close tabs on the Legates as she should be) and a more than decent person. But she's undead, so apparently that makes it just fine to betray her, break faith, and assist in her eventual death (while directly contributing to [or actively participating in, we'll have to see how the war goes] the deaths of untold numbers of her living subjects along the way).
Blade ... I'm not sure what to call Blade. Considering he has (or at least had) sleeper agents still within the Company, outlier doesn't seem to fit. A blood-drunk, fanatical minority, maybe? As low as my opinion is of the Company right now, Blade and his followers are far worse.
And I have to wonder why Sawbones is okay with all of this on a personal level, because if the people he is helping win, there is a certain Duchess and two little jennies that will be on their "Murder (possibly with rape and torture) as Soon as We Get Around to It" list.
8251289
For the bride, i certainly recall how unstable she is from the early chapters. She is only keeping up the empire because she is hardwired to by grogar. She at a few points seems to be in the state of potentially looking at the fact the company can kill the legates as a technical way out of her forced servitude into the actual release of a true death. Sawbones makes a very real note about it, and manages to prevent her from considering acting on it. Though he was verbally shaken up about it.
The shift away from the bride started more when she showed up at the free range ghoul farm and did the above, when three of her own legates tried to get into the company, and assaulted the mercs under her employ. When her rule was gladly letting ponies and donkeys be turned for necromantic profit. A whole region was being used for this. Without telling them of course. That's not exactly a sane/good ruler. She cared only as much as the empire was whole. It didn't matter the state of the place, so long as she fulfilled the technical bindings of her creation.
Coupled with cherie being found around there, and the worlds legend, we started seeing the company looking at things differently.
Sawbones himself, at one point, pulled an obscured blade for his medical corps for the company nearby when the dying started piling up. In order to save the many company and other injured, he used and possessed the whole medical corps, and many others through his will and deep connection to the spirit. He can control and override what a majority want, and was promptly horrified at doing what he did to save the lives he did, because he took away free will to do so.
He fears having to do so again. Even with this, he can, and he could force and stop this cold. He has the power to, and has the influence to. But it wouldn't make him any different from obscured blade. And more so why he has stood off in one part of things. There may be others. And thats how I see it. Sawbones can move the company, and fears being able or needing to.
8251521
I should reiterate, the one time the Bride visited the Company, she left a plague outbreak, that killed the then-Lieutenant and sickened much of the rank and file. She may be a bit of a woobie, but she's literally a plaguebearer, and death to those she meets. Like all liches.
8251521 As my memory serves (so take this with a large grain of salt ) the Bride did not know about what her Legates had gotten up to, and was rather approving of how the Company dealt with the matter. But you're right, she was quite interested in the Company being able to get her out of her curse. (Did she know that it might involve getting eaten by the Spirit? Would she even care?)
As for Sawbones "overwriting" the medical corps, the facts that A) he was disturbed by doing it and B) he let his "minions" have their freedom back as soon as he could makes me think there is no real danger of him pulling a Blade (baring a similar circumstance).
Granted, part of that may be due to Sawbones actively interacting with all three Aspects on a fairly regular basis, while old Obsidian seemed to be doing his damnedest to ignore everything other than the Nightmare, leaving our resident Zebra with a more complete view of the Spirit and what she wants.
8251559 Huh, I'd forgotten that part. (Trying to keep track of a "small" (3 million + words) library of fics is apparently messing with my recall. ) I'd been planning on holding off on an archive dive until next year ... maybe I'll do it sooner and refresh my memory of all the details.
I figured Tam Lane would go on to some position of prominence. You might as well have named him Temujin.
10026947
It wasn't supposed to be pony Timurlane, but rather, just another oblique spook name. In this case, someone associated with the fey. Feufollet is named after a French will o' the wisp demon, for instance.
(I'm trying to remember what the reference was for Rye Daughter. Roggenmuhme, I think.)