The Scramble for Equestria (A Pre-EAW Story)

by Radical Centrist

The Chapter where you hear about the British some more

Their ears had not deceived them.

Just before their eyes was their lost Prinecling, Pedrollah in his glorious, rust orange, casus-belli-revoking-self. He was waving haughtily, leaning off the foreign ship's railing and smiling around at the gathered citizens of Jaffmare who dutifully cheered whenever they were faced by their Sa'adle royalty.

Next to him was an equally imperious pastel brown horse who had announced their arrival with a megaphone, smiling all the face, looking around absently at the features of Jaffmare's port.

But their initial jubilance would be quickly exhausted by the sight of their mysterious benefactors.

They wore the same clothes their Princeling was wearing, and they just realised then that they were all wearing pants, their hindquarters hidden for some reason. Immediately, they could only reason that they were doing so because they preferred to be bipedal, not wishing to uncouthly swing their junk around other creature's faces.

Oh yeah, why were they all bipedal? Everycreature spectating wondered, as they saw the foreign ponies standing awkwardly on their decks in hindhooves. The griffons too.

Murmurs varying from exciting to fearful overtook the onlookers, as for many in Jaffmare, it was their first time witnessing these bird-lions first-hoof. Unknowingly like their Princeling had, they realised that the accounts of their merchants and explorers proved almost wholly unfaithful.

None of these supposed savages exuded any violent intent, nor displayed a predisposition to barbarism as was acclaimed. Instead, they were almost dissimilar to the ponies in behaviour onboard, especially linked by their identical uniforms, working harmoniously in a picturesque scene of pristine order.

The diverse creatures of Saddle Arbia would undoubtedly envy this level of cooperation between species. There were always rumours of a certain kingdom in the far northern continent where ponies and griffons lived in positive partnership, but they had all been dismissed as foolish fantasies, propagated by the hopeful minorities of the kingdom who wished to mirror them. But now? Suddenly nobody had ever doubted that theory.

"No... That's not-," Urban suddenly stammered, prompting everycreature to snap away from the ships, "....Something's wrong." He intensely paled, staring ghostly at the forefront ironclad.

"Huh-? Woah, you alright, Urban? What did you see?" Treble visibly recoiled when she twisted to see the engineer's haunted expression.

Jass mutely nodded, slowly turning towards his commissioner. "Eerie, isn't it?"

Fareed rapidly darted from looking at the donkey to the unicorn horse, determined to not enter into speculations like his peersand instead extract the answer directly from the source. "What's wrong? -What's so eerie?" He sequentially queried.

Urban did not let up his gaze at the anomaly. "Can't you feel it?"

Fareed groaned, "Aren't you engineers supposed to be objective? -Don't give me that abstract religious fluff."

"There's no magic," Jass substituted,

Fareed's eyes immediately widened, alongside all the unicorns that were gathered. In all their worry, they had not realised the absence of that overpowering force. "...That's not possible!" Fareed snapped towards the iron ships, his horns illuminating for a novice searching spell.

Bakar also began to pale, "Those ponies... And griffons too. They're almost invisible." He tapped his horn, flabbergasted at their foreigner's lack of 'pull' of the ambient, surrounding magic. All creatures were meant to act as small divergers or cyclers of the proverbial magical 'stream', however, these strangers exerted so little influence in the greater ambience that they felt like innate objects, flowing along the stream.

"Such... Marvel." Urban gasped, his haunted face turning into one of immense curiosity, "Engineering without magic... Is that even possible?!" He abruptly galloped towards the slowing ships, eyes still not escaping on the anomaly.

"No, wait! -Damn it!" Bakar swiftly followed the entranced engineer, carelessly pushing past several of the delegates.

The shocked, and some annoyed horses stared incredulously at the two unicorns now galloping at break-neck speeds towards the now-halted ships. Jass shrugged at them, and quickly took the same path Bakar had carved through the circle.

Baltog followed. Then Assad, Treble, and soon everycreature were bolting after one after another. Jihaad, leading the clergy decided to follow too, but decided to trot in a dignified manner, more out of necessity due to their long robes that reached down to the hooves. Fareed, misinterpreting this as a challenge, decided to hold back his fellow merchants and trot reservedly along the priests, their heads similarly held high.

Two griffons and ponies watched on amusedly.

---

"Alright, ladies! Here's the rules, you're not allowed to detour or stray from the greater group, speak unless told to, or mingle with the locals without the major's say-so! -Understood?!" Sir Lieutenant Robertson shouted, entering a four-legged stance to stomp with both forehooves to drive the points through.

The majority civilian delegation ignored the barkish officer, busily fiddling with their luggage or directing the porters. "Hey, hey!" Basil Zarahoff, the merchant of death, angrily flapped in place, slightly lifting off the ground, "Careful with that, unless you want to pay for the reparations!" The porters simply rolled their eyes, appeasing the scrupulous Greek pegasus by rolling the twice-taller wood crates slower.

A unicorn nearby clicked his tongue, "How could someone of such infamy gain a spot in this expedition?" Thomas Henry Howard, commander of the Southern Australian Branch of the Salvation Army sighed, "What purpose would he serve except bloodshed? -What was our government thinking?"

"We're talking about the same government that habitually neglects its poor, Tom. Who but our government?" Florence Nightingale reminded, placing a gentle claw on the dejected 'officer'.

'Tom' soothingly smiled, "They at least had the right minds to send you, lady with the lamp."

Florence softly waved, "Oh please, that's all overblown tabloid dribble. But you should more rightfully thank god, who granted me a second wind to travel again, and directly help those in need."

"Really? Because I think you would've been far more useful staying in England." A darkly burly bearded unicorn trotted into view, promptly standing on his hindhooves to offer a hoof, "Sigmund Freud. It's a pleasure to meet a legend in person."

Florence appraised the hoof presented to her, "...The pleasure is all mine, Mister Freud." She blinked at the hoof before her and hastily shook it with an apologetic smile, "Sorry, your name seemed somewhat familiar. Are you perhaps from Germany?"

Freud slightly blushed, "Ah, is it that obvious? I suppose I cannot really blame myself though, since I've been familiar with the language for but a month now." He cleared his throat, "But, no-, I'm Austrian. Close though."

Tom became delighted, "Ah, a fellow international! -I thought I was the only one. Thomas Howard." He reached out a hoof,

Freud brightened too, "Really? You don't really strike me as such." He shook the opposing hoof.

"I was in Australia before this whole ordeal, before suddenly being transposed back to my birthhome." Tom nodded, "Oh you should've been there. The new owners kept swiping at me with a kitchen knife, accusing me of burglary!"

"That does sound hectic." Freud said, hesitating to say 'humourous'.

"Freud... Freud... Ah! Are you perhaps the author on the application of coca?" Florence softly clapped in realisation,

"'On Coca', yes." Freud allowed himself a grin in recognition,

Tom gaped, "You, who narrowly missed out on the distinction of discovering the first anesthetic?"

Freud sagged a little in regret, "The very same. But I'm glad for Karl, he deserved it."

"You knew him personally?" Florence wracked her mind, remembering that Karl Koller had been the one to publish the pain-preventing properties of cocaine.

"He is my colleague. -He's actually going to join me shortly, but he had some more stuffs to pack." Freud explained,

"Pardon for asking, but why are two Austrian neurologists in this expedition?" Tom cautiously queried,

"No offence taken. It's because of the coca plant. They don't grow in Europe." Freud neutrally intoned,

"Oh, that's terrible." Florence covered her beak, contemplating how his new acquaintance felt, knowing his life's work had essentially vanished overnight.

"Many scientists were a victim. I'm sorry for your loss, Sigmund." Tom rested a comforting hoof on the Austrian neurologist who promptly shook it off.

Freud sighed, "It's alright, our labs had a large stockpile of them anyways." Speak of the devil, Freud produced a translucent bottle filled with white tablets from his coat, "Any of you want to partake?"

Florence shook her head, unamused with vices. Tom, though, didn't have such inhibitions.

"Sure,"

They both took a tablet.

"It helps me think. And I think I'm making a breakthrough in its application to cure morphine addiction." Freud admitted before gulping loudly.

"Terrible thing. I suppose you are trying to find a substitute in these new lands?" Tom spoke while chewing, cringing sporadically as the bitterness of the tablet filled his mouth.

"Basically. It was quite rash of us, now that I think about it. Finding land wasn't even guaranteed." Freud unnoticeably shivered, his body unconsciously preparing for the foreseeable deluge of dopamine. "I suppose the coca had unveiled my Id, as it did to my colleague. But I suppose the prospects of discovering more of the application of our 'Werg' was irresistible."

"How very resourceful of you... My purpose here is to convert and perhaps even create a new Salvation Corps." Tom reciprocated,

"Really?" Florence tilted, "I am travelling with my unicorn student nurses to experiment with their 'Werg' for medical applications." She revealed,

Tom's eyes widened in surprise, "Wow, I guess I should've really planned this better, huh?" He embarrassingly rubbed his neck,

"ATTENTION, CIVILIANS!" The same lieutenant from before announced, "Colonel Kitchener has graciously allowed you all to accompany him! So you shall return that favour by following our rules to a tat! -No detouring! No straying! -And no mingling with the natives! Is that clear?!"

Roberts was still met with silence. He didn't expect any less from civvies.

"For those that requested translators prior, you will be assigned one! Also, note, sir Flash will be joining Kitchener in this delegation! So be on your best behaviour, and show your respects!" Roberts ended with another wide stomp.

Dramatically, those very individuals would step forward dressed most respectively, as expected of men of the British Empire. The pink unicorn held his head high, a right hoof resting just underneath his left chest for a photogenic scene. The griffon too, assumed that stance, also eager to maintain his prestige and look good in the interest of Britain.

A nearby box camera would absorb the scene, presumably to be catalogued and shipped back to the publishing companies at home.

Once Kitchener received the signal from the cameramen, he took the 'stage'.

"...I am not a man of many words." Kitchener began, "I much prefer those who act. So I will keep this short. -This is not the first time a foreign peoples arrived unannounced in a foreigner's land. Much records of similar cases exist to make our endeavour a common one, but don't despair at that. Be delighted by it! For past men have made numerous mistakes that we can now avoid for a more successful venture."

Kitchener paused for breath, "As you all have seem to realise, we have landed in a nation of peoples in the middle of what we have only the Renaissance as an Earthly equivalent to. Those of us that are military men or astute historians might even notice that these foreign peoples' architecture reminds us of the westerly orientals, alike the Egyptians, and Ottomans; like a slice of their holy site of Baghdad. -But make no mistake!"

Kitchener raised a hoof authoritatively in a point, "Do not let that knowledge make you complacent! They may seem familiar on the surface, but may be wholly different in their minds. So listen to your commanders, do not make private judgments and for you civilians, stick close to our soldiers and never let one of these natives nab you, lest you spark a costly crisis."

Flash chose this moment to step forward, cooly timing his entry with Kitchener's soft finish to announce,

"Gentlemen, let's get this show on the road."

He hushly whispered to Kitchener's side, "Why are they all naked?"

---

Despite Kitcherner's insistence, the British delegation subdivided into three sections, the vanguard consisting of the military, the core comprised of the 'traders' and the rear being mainly made up of the intelligentsia.

These sections would soon disobey another rule of his: Mingling with the locals, as the natives seemed determined to prove the term: "Opposites Attract" as a pathetic joke.

Author's Note:

Nightingale: "For health!"

Thomas: "For Christianity!"

Freud: "For cocaine!"

Circa 1889

Comments

[Radical Centrist]

I don't know what, but this chapter felt somewhat awkward for me to write

[Radical Centrist]

But again, the research needed for writing these characters is slowly decaying my sanity

Thank god for wikipedia tho

[MadhatterZack]

Nightingale: "For health!"

Thomas: "For Christianity!"

Freud: "For cocaine!"

This part really had me rolling.🤣

Anyway great chapter looking forward to seeing some interaction between the brits and the natives.

[Pogmin]

11762296
Doesn't feel so to me. I like the whole historical dream team of famous figures intriduced on the same boat. It's unrealistic but campy(In a good way) in a way a lot of historical fantasy novels are also written, makes me nostalgic.

[Radical Centrist]

11762627
ye, probably that's it. Although I did try to make the characters on the expedition the most likely people to go, (Many were already travellers), it does feel somewhat unrealistic that they will be packed together like that

[Radical Centrist]

11762609
Hopefully not anticlimatic...

[JahJah]

"We're talking about the same government that habitually neglects its poor, Tom. Who but our government?" Florence Nightingale reminded, placing a gentle claw on the dejected 'officer'.

Oh look, it’s my great-great-great-great-great.. wait, is that one too many ‘greats?’ I think so. I’ll try again.

My great-great-great-great-grandmother’s- oh wait, it was three.

My great-great-great grandmother’s great-aunt is here!

[darklight731]

WHY did you add Sigmund freud? Why? He is insane.
He will definitely screw something up.