19: "Hey, dweebs! Fresh meat!"
The griffon hen was big, even for one of her kind. She was a full head taller than the usual pony mare, with black and grey feathers and a black coat that glimmered with a black jaguar's faintly iridescent spots. She moved like an avalanche: gracefully, but with the promise of entombing any creature who stood in her way. In the open wake she left in Canterlot's busy evening traffic walked a smaller unicorn mare, dark-coated and short-maned with meteoric streaks for a cutie mark.
"This way, Shooty," the griffon said as she turned down a side street. The street descended and twined past arching buildings, and the traffic thinned but didn't stop as they left the main avenues. The both of them ignored the pegasus traffic that flitted persistently overhead in the moonlight.
The unicorn turned her head this way and that, but she walked without the unsteadiness of the usual rubbernecker. "Thy nicknames are least appreciated—'Grizelda'. If I am to be Shooting Star, then Shooting Star I am to be, not... 'Shooty'."
The griffon snorted as she turned a corner. "Nicknames are part of life, Starry," she said, and she casually stepped over a quivering earth pony mare, barely more than a filly, who had frozen in place at suddenly being face to face with her. "You wanna deal with the plebs, you gotta take it." Her voice was a contralto, rough-edged as a cat's tongue.
Shooting Star gave the mare a second glance and a pat on the shoulder, glanced up at the narrow street's skyline, and hurried ahead. "If thou must insist on anything, let it be just 'Star'," she said.
"Uhh, I can do that, I guess," the griffon said, and she turned again. "Here's the place."
It had been a gatehouse or tollhouse once, in a past era, before age and neglect had let it decay. Some clever pony had claimed up part of the broad balcony it hung against and rebuilt it into an open-air cafe. Past the narrow arch of the entrance the space opened out with low tables, most of them attended by ponies with mugs and some with plates, and almost all of them with a view of the evening moon.
"Hey, dweebs!" Grizelda announced as she threaded her way past tables. The place—BEAN COUNTER said the sign over the entrance arch—was one where the ponies didn't flinch away from the presence of the huge griffon. "Fresh meat!"
Behind her, Shooting Star stared as a cluster of ponies at a set of back tables greeted the griffon. She finally had to move forward as a pegasus behind her coughed politely, and she made her way to Grizelda with more of an awkward shuffle than smooth grace. There, she saw, an arrangement of tables had been covered in miniature terrain and what she took to be miniature soldiers. "Ah—salutations?" she offered to the cluster of ponies there.
"Oh, you're the pony that Griz was talking about?" said one of them, and Shooting Star realized with a start that he was that handsome captain of the Guard, Shining Armor, though without any of his namesake. "I'm Shining Armor," he said, redundantly.
"Just watch out for her gettin' all 'forsoooth' and whatever, it's a whole thing where she's from," Grizelda said. She turned to lean over one of the tables, with her beak drifting just past the ear of a bespectacled rail-thin pony who was so focused on the miniature recreation of a Minosic border skirmish that he didn't notice at all.
Shooting Star looked at her, frowned, and turned back to Shining Armor. "Aye, that w-I am," she said, and paused. "Shooting Star," she said, too late to be smooth about it and too early to be enticingly cool. "And what has my companion been talking about... about?" she said, as her frown grew.
"Oh, oh, it's nothing bad, if that's what you're worried about," Shining Armor said, almost chuckling. "Just that you're new to Canterlot like she is, and that you might be a little... old-fashioned?"
Behind him, a stout pony let out a honk of surprise as Grizelda interrupted the chatter of her ongoing whatever-it-was, then a whoop of triumph as the griffon's murmur brought something to her attention that she had missed on the table of miniature figures.
"I will allow it," Shooting Star said in an imperious voice, "if you will explain the nature of this... gathering." She leaned her head to look past him. She was starting to understand the arrangement of ponies. Each tiny battle—if they were battles—was attended to by a handful of ponies, though not very strictly. Some had them placed in opposition; others, a more even spacing, but with fewer of the little figures and less elaborate terrain.
"She didn't tell you?" Shining Armor said, and his ears perked up.
"I ain't tellin' nobody nothin' when I can make you dweebs do it, Bighorn," Grizelda called from over where she had taken perch to watch a tiny recreation of what looked suspiciously like a Lunar-Solar skirmish to Shooting Star.
Shining Armor rolled his eyes. "We do wargaming nights," he said. "Well—it's not all wargaming, but that's the main thing. Our friend—" —there was a gently mocking lilt to his voice— "—Grizelda helped set up a lot of it, actually. You have a little army, and there's rules and dice to make sure it's fair, and—why don't I show you instead? Griz doesn't bring ponies if they won't 'get' it, and it makes more sense when you see it in action."
Later, with her rooms overflowing with painted wooden miniatures, Luna would begin to wonder how the changeling queen had so accurately divined her weakness.
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calling it, the grif is chrysalis, and they just got luna into Warhammer
10470347
The last sentence all but beats you over the head with that fact.
10470323
How?
Poor Luna, how is she supposed to get any work done after been introduced to the wonders of Warhammer...
Was... Was that the infamous Triple Negative!?
Welp there goes Luna. Now forever making and growing a collection of miniatures to occasionally play with. I wonder how long it took before she became like my dad and just had thousands of various miniatures wherever she has the storage space.
I imagine Celestia coming over to talk with Luna and getting buried under a mountain of figures once she opens the door to Luna's room.
So, dungeons and dragons?
Weakness?
10470503
It sounds a bit more like Risk. With DnD you control one character not an Army.
10470534
Oh ok
10470534
try warhammer 40k or fantasy
Of course Luna's a sucker for tabletop wargaming. An impressive cover for Chrysalis as well, she's putting down roots all over isn't she?
Clever way of getting the guard thinking about tactics too.
10470375
I'm so sorry, friend, but you have been mislead! Nothin', in this instance, is actually replacing the word anything, nullifying the negative! You have been tricked, backstabbed, and bamboozled! This is very not good.
What's this? What's this?
A long chapter at last?
There's long lines and dialogue
What's this?
Could be? The author is getting ill?
I can't believe my eyes
Wake up, there something very wrong
10470503
Closer to Warhammer.
Many have fallen to such temptation.
nice work
Because there seems to be a lot of people in the comments who don't know what's going on here: Miniature wargaming.
...How small can changelings make themselves?
The wording of the last part implies that Luna knows the Grif is Chrysalis.
10458467
Sheesh, less than a month after making this comment and it has over 30 upvotes??
10458738
10459781
10469860
Okay! Okay okay, I'll actually get on it. I have to go to a dentist' appointment today,
but after that unless something comes up I'll dedicate my time to getting this done by the end of the week.Don't expect anything too long since most of the premise is already there, but sure, I'll crank something out for ya'll. If I can get the author's permission, I'll even link his(her?) story to it and make a short Chryssi-letter of my own at the end. If not, I'll still post it without the Chryssi-note.-
That something was TF2's Halloween event...and I have a 60 hour work week startign tomorrow. Lovely. But I have started it, at least, and I will work on it as I am able and not distracted by other things.
10471322
I had thought the bit of sniping back and forth at the start would have made that fairly obvious?
10471600
Sure, why not?
I’m disappointed in this comments section. There are wargames other (and arguably better) than 40k. Battletech, bolt action, armada, ect. What? Of course this isn’t a biased agenda comment indented purely to spread awareness for my favorite games. Why would you think that?
Canny - driving day mad with paranoia, bankrupting night through small tiny figurines, and distracting the librarian with books. The other one is just happy she can now have some alone time when Shining is out of the castle.
Now THIS is definitely an amusing chapter. Also, I am REALLY enjoying this version of Chrissy. Honestly, Celestia should just move aside to let Chrissy and Luna take the Throne. With the help of Twilight Sparkle, after Chrysalis seduces her away with those book clubs of hers!
10472880
I, at least, do not specify any particular miniatures and there are hundreds if not thousands of different types.
IN THE GRIM DARKNESS OF THE FAR FUTURE, THERE IS ONLY WAR.
...And ponies.
Say, anyone/pony/insert-creature here have a copy of the Avalon Hill game Trireme?
The beginning of a looong friendship?
10477859
War, war never changes
Re-reading this fic, it remains hilarious. I remember when I originally read this chapter, I was enjoying the Luna/Chrysalis interactions and Luna's getting into Wargames, but on re-read I realized that it's also a huge flex on Chrysalis' part to show Luna she successfully infiltrated the Captain of the Guard's social circle long ago.
She's sneaky like that