A "Normal" Day in Ponyville
Alistair shifted comfortably atop the cushioned padding that made up his bed. Though there was little separating him from the cold, hard ground, he still found the sleeping arrangement to his liking, reminiscent to his time as an adventurer. The royal Warden smiled broadly as he stayed lying there for sometime, partially shaded by the trees that hung over him. The simple camp was set up just on the edge of the forest that was near Ponyville, not wanting to venture too far away from the town and paying heed to the warnings that the forest itself was a dangerous place.
While Alistair basked in his own slothfulness, he was confused as what felt like an arm wrapped itself over his chest. Opening his eyes, the king became fully awake as he noticed that the so called arm was an alabaster white and ended, not with a hand, but a hoof.
Connected to that very limb, the brightly white form of a princess lied next to him, cuddling against the warm body of the Grey Warden. It was that realization that made Alistair aware of one soul shuddering fact, he was stark naked.
Feeling her companion stirring, Celestia opened her shimmering eyes, gazing upon the now awake Alistair with a look of pure satisfaction. “Mmm, good morning, sweetie,” she cooed in that melodious, almost motherly tone of hers
“Wh-what?!” Alistair blurted out, his eyes growing wide as his thoughts were filled with many different answers to his short question. Every scenario that ran through his mind became a desperate gambit to point away from the obvious truth, it becoming painfully clear by the second. “N-no! We didn't-! W-we couldn't-!” There was nothing he could say, the pleased gaze of the royal mare breaking down any form of coherence he had.
Before the king could say or do anything else, a thunderous crash sounded just a few feet away. In the direction of the forest, loud sounds of snapping wood filled the air. Not moments after the sounds came, several trees next to the simple camp were suddenly uprooted, tossed away like a child's toy to be left forlorn in broken piles. There, standing in the path of destruction, was Princess Luna, looking at the display of man and mare with an expression that was twisted with a white-hot rage only a God could fathom.
“You!” Luna bellowed, her mighty tone shattering through the ears of the two who she was bearing down upon. “What hast thou done?!”
It was clear to Alistair what the nightly princess was meaning. All the king could do was hold a terrified stare that shifted between the still pleasured Celestia and furious Luna. “N-no, this isn't... this isn't what it looks like!” he tried saying, the moronic claim being the only thing he could think to say.
The azure princess said nothing, not another word was spared for the doomed king. Instead, a fiery cry of anger erupted from the mare, sending frightened birds of the forest scattering for miles and causing the earth itself to tremble in intimidation. Alistair then felt his body stiffen, as though held tightly in the grip of a giant hand. He realized all too late that his body was glowing with a silvery aura, matching the one engulfing Luna's horn.
Alistair felt the painful impact of bark against his bare back as he was thrown across the clearing and into a mighty tree. Just as the king was attempting to get up and run, Luna was already upon him. The princess screamed loudly in fury as she bent her head down to thrust her horn forward, impaling it through the human's chest.
The forest became a chorus of screams as the horrific events were carried out. Alistair's own screams of pain echoed horrifically as he was gored by the princess. Celestia's frightened screams of terror added to those of Alistair's as she witnessed the horrific actions of her sister. Luna's intense screams of vehemence and savagery carried own as she pushed her horn deeper into her victim, feeling splatters of blood dripping down her face with every forceful push she gave to the fleshy target.
Alistair's head jerked upward with a cry of panic following it. All around him, the lush, green forested area was no more, replaced by a rural town and a table with which he was sitting at.
His breathing heavy, the king looked around as his sudden alertness slowly dwindled down. He was outside, at the front of a small eatery business where he remembered stopping at. Memories of his approach and seating came back to him, becoming relaxed as he awaited his service, then nothing. It soon became apparent to him that he had fallen asleep, the drowsiness that was already weighing hiim down making itself known.
Several other tables surrounded his own, each having one or two ponies who were currently staring at the human, looks of confusion and surprise being the only expressions he could see. The only pony who began moving once again was a stallion dressed as a waiter.
“Uh... sir,” the waiter said, making a slow approach. “Is there... something you would like to order?”
Alistair said nothing for several moments, barely registering the stallion's question. It was too hard for him to think clearly, what with the terrors his own mind could create. Taking a deep breath to center himself, Alistair looked at the stallion and said, “Coffee... I want some coffee, in the biggest mug you have. A bucket even, if you have it.” Dropping a handful of bits onto the table, the waiter took the right amount and walked off.
As minutes began to tick by, the other pony patrons began to revert back to their quite lunches, only ever passing the occasional glance toward the king when they figured he wouldn't notice. Several times Alistair did notice, though he didn't care, all of his attention was focused on getting his drink.
When his coffee finally came, Alistair immediately took a massive gulp from it, ignoring the burning it brought to his throat and enjoying the caffeinated liquid as best as he could. Sitting silently, drinking his coffee without a word, the king kept his gaze within his mug and simply counted the seconds between his sips.
It became a surprise to him as he noticed that he was being watched, not a shifting glance like the ponies before, but a stare of intent. The feeling of being watched made him realize it, turning to an itch on the back of his neck that irritated like a rash. Looking up, Alistair saw who was watching him. It was a unicorn, a mare with an aquamarine coat and a string instrument on her flank that he couldn't place a name for.
After several odd moments of the human and pony looking at one another, the mare decided to approach the table, trotting over with an excited skip in her step.
“Hi,” the unicorn said as she sat herself at the table, her eyes never leaving Alistair for a moment.
“Uh... hi,” Alistair replied, shifting in his seat as he was becoming increasingly uneasy.
The mare continued to stare at the king, a cheerful smile plastered onto her face. Only every so often her eyes would drift down toward the able itself, where Alistair's hands were resting. “So... you're called a human?” she asked, her tone sounding more like a discovery than a question.
Alistair couldn't help but frown, gaining the same feelings toward the mare that he had toward Leliana when he first met her. “Yeah... I am,” he eventually answered, scooting himself back from the table slightly.
“Wow,” she breathed, with a fascination matching that of a child who was meeting a famous hero. Her eyes continued to look down at his hands at an increasing rate, making his fingers twitch nervously as a result. The unicorn began to bite her lip and look uneasy herself as she too shifted in place. “Um... can I... can I touch your hands?”
“Excuse me?” Alistair asked in surprise, bringing his hands to his chest as if they were precious gifts.
Becoming increasingly nervous, the mare leaned forward on the table, looking as though she were about to pounce on the human. “Please, just let me touch them. To feel them. I want to know what your hairless skin feels like.” As she came even closer toward the king, Alistair jumped to his feet, taking his mug with him.
“I... I really need to get going. I-I'm actually very busy. No time at all for, uh... that,” Alistair said, slowly backing away from the unicorn. Without sparing a word of goodbye, he turned on his heel and quickly walked away, his footsteps nearly digging a rut into the ground with his speed. Throughout his departure, the Warden-King was left wondering if it was too much to ask for a normal day within the magical land of talking animals.
“Fire!” Anders commanded, throwing his hand forward in the direction of his target. Despite the passion and intensity in his voice, nothing happened. The secluded land just outside of Ponyville had proven a perfect spot for the mage to try and use his abilities, with a large tree sitting as the perfect target. But what he hoped to be a chance to regain what he had lost turned into another failure.
Growling in frustration, Anders waved his arms about the air in a showy fashion before thrusting them both forward, screaming, “Flames!” Again, not a single spark made itself known. “Come on,” he pleaded, continuously thrusting his hands forward. “Heat! Ice! Cold air! Uh... lightning?”
Again and again he tried to cast a spell, doing every motion and thought he usually did whenever he used his abilities. His attempts were met with nothing but failure, making the Grey Warden all the more agitated with each compounding fact that he was no more a mage than Oghren was a gentleman.
“Gah, stupid magic!” he snapped angrily. “I've faced demons and darkspawn alike, defeating them all with a twirl of the wrist. But I can't handle a little relocation?!”
Turning away from his tree, Anders eyed his feline companion who was lying on the ground just a few feet away, rolling about on his bag like a pillow while meowing softly. “Are you any less of a cat, Ser Pounce-a-lot?” he asked, causing the cat to eye him quizzically. “Didn't think so.”
While still pouting over his loss of magical ability, Anders remained quiet, kicking at the dirt childishly. His frustrated silence made his attention easily notice it when the sound of approaching hoofsteps reached his his ear. Doing his best to ignore it, thinking they would go away, the mage kept his attention the tree, imagining it bursting into flames or becoming a block of ice.
But the hoofsteps didn't go away, instead becoming louder as their creators were just a few feet away from him. A voice then piped up, sounding young and curious. “See, there's one of those creature's now,” the voice said, trying to speak in a hushed whisper, but failing as Anders could hear every word.
“Wow, Scootaloo,” a second voice murmured, “you're right. Just look at him. Ah think he looks likes a weird minotaur.”
“Are you sure it's a he?” a third voice questioned, sounding higher pitched than the last two and cracking subtly on several words. “I mean, it looks like it's wearing a dress.”
At that, Anders already annoyed state peaked with anger. With a fierce scowl on his face, the mage turned toward the source of the three voices and said, “It's not a dre-!” He stopped mid-sentence as he laid eyes on the three creatures before him.
They were children, or foals from what Anders could remember with horse terminology. Each holding different colors in their manes and coat, and each one being a different kind of pony. A pegasus, a unicorn, and an earth pony.
The three fillies took a step back as he noticed them, despite the fact that they weren't even hiding. But Ander's gaze never left them, his eyes widening to the size of plates as his mouth hung agape. “By the Maker...” he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching into a gleeful smile. “You three are so adorable!”
The mage nearly squealed like a young girl as he stepped closer toward the three young ones. They didn't look too afraid of him, simply giving each other strange glances while the human knelt down before them.
“My Goodness,” Anders laughed, “you three have got to be some of the cutest little things I've ever seen. Please tell me, what are your names?”
The unease that the fillies were feeling slowly evaporated as their curious young minds began to take control of them. The center one, with a yellow coat and red mane, stepped forward. “Ah'm Apple Bloom,” she replied, before extended a hoof toward her two friends. “That's Scootaloo, and that's Sweetie Belle.”
As soon as Apple Bloom was done with her introductions, she was taken by surprise as Anders giggled happily and picked the young pony up, holding her with his hands underneath her forelegs, causing her back legs to dangle freely.
“Aw, you're so precious,” Anders cooed, like a mare with a puppy. “That voice of yours, that accent is just so darn cute! Oh, and that bow on your head, I can hardly stand it!”
“Uh... Mister,” Apple Bloom murmured, “you think you could put me down now?” Anders nodded his head excitedly, doing just that as he bent down to place the filly back on the ground.
Stilling looking between the three fillies, Anders gasped suddenly as he darted back to where he was and picked up his cat. Returning to the group of children, Anders sat down in front of them and held his white feline out to them. “This is Ser Pounce-a-lot,” he said happily. “Isn't he wonderful? You see, he's adorable and you're all adorable. You should be friends!”
Each of the fillies eyed the cat with deadpanned expressions, not saying a word until the orange pegasus Scootaloo looked up at Anders and said, “But that's a cat.”
“But you could have adventures together,” Anders said, frowning in disappointment. “Adventures in cuteness, ha! That would be a show to see.”
“But that's a cat,” Scootaloo repeated, with no more enthusiasm as the last one.
His frown deepening, Anders looked down at his feline companion sadly, holding him close. “Don't listen to them, Ser Pounce-a-lot,” he whispered soothingly. “You're more than a cat. You're a Grey Warden of felines, a with darkspawn fleeing at your ferociousness, while still remaining the loveable creature you are!”
As the mage continued to talk to his pet, Sweetie Belle leaned closer to Apple Bloom and whisper, “Do you think they're all this... weird?”
Though not running in fear or panicking at the sight of the golem, most ponies in Ponyville gave a wide berth to Shale as it trekked through the streets. Shale didn't mind it, already used to such gazes even in Ferelden. It knew that a massive structure of rock and power stomping toward them would be a sight to see, not that it cared what they thought of it anyway.
Shale simply walked through the town with a wandering gaze, seeing if it could find anything worth a fraction of its attention. No such thing had been found yet, and the construct was beginning to question if the town was just as useless as anywhere else in the strange world.
Then, just as the golem was about to abandon any idea of amusing itself, a flashing glint caught its eye. Following the reflective beam of light, Shale approached a large building, built like a circular tower with wooden statues of horses prancing around the mid-section. A sign hung on just beside the door, written in a graceful font, said Carousel Boutique.
Looking through one of the many massive windows the building had, Shale could see what had caught its attention. Inside, there was a white-coated unicorn sewing a frill into a dress. It was a large assortment of different fabrics, with different shades of colors that Shale didn't even know existed. But the most important feature on it to the golem were the many jewels that were placed on the dress itself, each sparkling in the light with a brilliant magnificence.
Feeling a compelling need the likes of which it had never felt before, Shale stepped into the boutique, creating a jingling chime as the door struck a bell. The noise caught the unicorn's attention, causing her to witness the large construct entering her store.
“Oh,” the mare breathed, evidently surprised by the visitor. “You're the, uh... golem that appeared with the others. Shale, is it?” A single nod was given by the construct as affirmation. “Yes... well, my name is Rarity. This,” she twirled her foreleg about the room, “is my boutique. I make many fabulous dresses her that are worn at many lavish events.”
Shale barely heard a word coming from the unicorn, simply eying the many sparkling gems that clung to the dress she was currently working on. Rarity noticed the attentive gaze as well, eying the jewels that were already lodged into the golem's body.
“You like gemstones?” Rarity then asked, gauging the quiet construct's reaction.
Shale nodded its head in reply. “Yes,” it said, circling the dress to see every stone that was attached to it. “The ones in this world are... so much different than the ones I am used to. They are so much more sparkling and... beautiful.” Without saying a word, Shale reached out and plucked one of the gems from the dress. Ignoring the reaction Rarity held to the sudden rudeness, the golem took the gem and pressed it against its forearm. When nothing happened, it applied more force to the action, garnering no change. “It seems that I can't add the jewels from your word onto my form... a pity.”
Rarity watched the display with a curious mind, not fully understanding the action of trying to insert the actual gem into the rocky body. “Well,” the fashionista said, “if you are looking for jewels to wear, then you've come to the right place.” Trotting across the room, she opened a drawer in a nearby table and rummaged through it. “I keep many accessories here just in case I need them for a dress idea. I have many pieces of jewelry that I am sure a nice... creature such as yourself will enjoy.”
Returning to the golem, Rarity levitated a bracelet toward the construct. In moments, the piece of jewelry was wrapped around Shale's wrist. It was a metal plate with a sparkling saphire placed in the center and a silver chain keeping it attached. The construct eyed the accessory with hesitation, feeling strange to wear the gems rather than have them inserted into itself. But, after moments of dangling the accessory in the light, Shale began to find great enjoyment in wearing it.
Rarity caught on to Shale's reaction as well, beaming a smile of approval. “Yes, that does look wonderful on you,” she said. “Now, I must insist that I also help you with... your attire.” At the statement, the living statue looked down, noticing its own form without a strip of cloth.
“I am a walking rock,” Shale replied indignantly. “I do not require such a trifling thing as clothing.”
Rarity merely smiled, ignoring the sudden abrasiveness toward the subject. “Of course, darling,” she replied. “While I won't be one to advocate the need for clothing unless the situation absolutely calls for it, such a creature as yourself would look wonderful with a little something here and something there. It would go great with that bracelet and match your eyes perfectly. And your impressive stature... I have such ingenious ideas. You simply must allow me to try putting something on you.”
Shale looked down at the mare's sudden eagerness and excitement, judging whether or not it should hit her. But looking back at the wonderful bracelet it was now wearing, the idea didn't seem too horrible, especially if it involved more gems. Heaving a relenting sigh, Shale nodded. “Very well, it may try what ever it is that it has in mind.”
“Wonderful!” Rarity cried happily, her brewing excitement peaking. Her horn then began to glow as large amounts of fabric, scissors and thread began to fly through the air and around the construct.
Nearly an hour passed with Shale standing perfectly still while Rarity worked her magic, both in a figurative and literal sense. The fabric kept coming and the snipping of the cloth continued on and on, only being replaced by the sound of a threaded needle passing through on occasion.
Eventually though, Rarity stepped a good distance away from Shale and held a hoof to her chin in thought, examining her work with a discerning eye. An elated gasped escaped the mare as she said, “Oh yes, you look wonderful. Now wait here, I have the perfect headpiece for you in the other room, then we'll be finished.” Rarity then trotted off, leaving Shale alone.
With the unicorn now having left, the construct's mind was becoming curious. Looking about the room, Shale eventually spotted what it was looking for, seeing a large mirror that was big enough to show its entire bulky body.
Looking through it, seeing its reflection through the glassy surface, Shale's mouth dropped in the greatest display of utter shock that the walking statue could form. Its entire body was draped in a light blue dress, matching the color of its eyes perfectly with girly frill placed nearly everywhere. It covered down past its knees and almost covered its feet, with a white trim that reminded shale of the color of pigeons.
Within minutes, Rarity returned to the main room, a feathered hat being carried by the magic of her horn. “Here it is,” she called, ready to place it on the construct's head. “I know you'll simply adore your new dr-” She stopped as she returned to the very spot where she had left Shale. Shale was gone, and all that was left was the tattered remains of the blue dress she had just made, ripped to pieces by the frantic fingers of a stone hand.
Even the silver bracelet had been removed, knocked away from its wrist and being left in the heap of rags unnoticed.
Oghren became very happy very quickly when he found out that Ponyville had a tavern. The place was set up near the outskirts of the town, becoming a hard place to find, most likely to keep away any young ones. But when it came to alcohol, the dwarf's nose was better than that of a mabari hound, making tracking it down an easy feat for him.
Now Oghren sat down at one of the many tables dotting the inside of the tavern. The bar counter at the front of the establishment was packed with ponies, each drinking greedily from their mugs and getting refills immediately after they were empty, leaving a table the only place where he could sit for his drink.
But he was not the only one at the table, sitting just across from him, a stallion eyed the dwarf intently. He was a pegasus, with a snow-white coat and dusty-black mane. The stallion kept a challenging glare on Oghren while the miniature Warden matched the gaze to the letter.
“You think you've got the guts, son?” Oghren spat in aggressive manner, treating the stallion like he would any upstart Warden at the keep who thought they could match him.
The pegasus laughed. “What? A tiny creature like you thinks he can come in here and beat us in drinking our own Equestrian brew? That's a funny joke you've got there.”
“A joke, huh?” Oghren huffed. “Well, let's just see what kind of sodding swill you serve here. Be it watered down grease, or fine wine, I'll drink you under the table so badly, they'll think it was built on top of ya.” A large grin parted the dwarf's lips. “And when I win, you'll be owing me a favor.”
Too proud to back down, the stallion slammed a hoof on the table and extended it toward the newcomer. “You're on,” he said. Oghren took the hoof and shook it. As their match began, they called for a round of drinks, each determined to beat the other.
The drinking contest between dwarf and pony lasted for some time. They lost track of the exact hours as the large mugs they were drinking from broke into the double digits. Every mug was given to them with a cube of salt, nearly twice the size of a normal sugar cube. After the mug was emptied, the drink inside guzzled down to the last drop, they were forced to eat the block of salt in its entirety, each of them grimacing in agony as the dehydrating mineral made their faces twitch horrendously.
Several of the other patrons of the tavern began to watch the show. They watched with interest as the strange outsider drank like a beast, seemingly having no sense of the word sober. But even as Oghren and his stallion competitor swallowed mug after mug, two serving mares continued to bring them more, who the dwarf referred to as 'dirty wenches,' much to their ire.
Sadly, like most of Oghren's challengers, the pegasus was in over his head. His body swayed back and forth on his seat, as though he was on the deck of a ship. Trying to gulp down his latest mug, the stallion made it halfway before he let out a hacking cough, spraying flecks of the alcoholic liquid all over his face. Unable to go on, the stallion's head fell onto the table, knocking over all of the empty mugs that they had set to the sides and spilling over his latest one.
Oghren, undettered by his victory, continued to drink, finishing off several more mugs, including the near empty one that the stallion had failed to finish.
Slamming his final mug down on the table, the insatiable dwarf guffawed loudly, rising over the cheers of the patrons who had been cheering him on. But their own praise was ignored by him as he stumbled onto his feet and walked over toward the unconscious stallion.
Slapping him on the cheeks several times, Oghren succeeded in waking him. Stilling in a drunken haze, the pegasus looked about in confusion, his wandering gaze landing on the dwarf and staying there as the realization to his loss settled in. The dwarven Grey Warden nearly split his cheeks open as his grin stretched to monumental proportions. With a laugh, Oghren patted the stallion on the head and hiccuped, “Now, it'sh chime fer my favor.”
Commander Cousland sat idle as he lifted the small teacup to his lips and sipped silently. With him, Twilight and Spike both sat with him at the table within the library, each taking their own sips from their own cups. It was a wonderful experience for the Warden-Commander, to simply bask in the peacefulness found in the quite sounds.
A pleasant sigh of contentedness escaped him, while a smile worked its way onto his face. “Goodness,” he murmured, “I never would have thought simply drinking some tea could be such a stress reliever. Back in Ferelden, I would typically train whenever I was feeling too tense.” He took another sip from his cup, savoring the taste before setting the cup back down. “This is a delightful alternative.”
“Is it really so bad where you're from?” Twilight asked, having never really looked at the human as one who could be too wound up.
The commander nodded. “Oh yes,” he replied. “Being the Commander of the Grey can be very stressful at times. Especially when you're also the Arl of your land. Having to deal with all of the Wardens in Ferelden, including local land disputes, roaming bandits, and the occasional assassination attempt.”
Twilight and Spike both looked at the Warden in shock, while the commander himself returned to sipping his tea, as though his last detail was a simple issue. The mare and dragon didn't have time to question the human further when a loud crash sounded within the library.
The front door was suddenly thrown open, Oghren bursting through it while riding on top of a bucking pegasus. With his hands holding onto the stallion's black mane tightly, the dwarf hollered out triumphantly as he continued to use the pony as his mount.
The pegasus continued to buck and jump about wildly, his wings flapping down rapidly and giving his jumps extra height and distance. As chaos began to ensue within the library, Oghren and the stallion crashed into one of the bookcases. Their bodies thudded onto the wooden floor with an audible thump, while books rained down on top of them. Neither of them reacted to the falling books, both out cold and barely moving.
Spike frowned angrily as he saw all of the work he would now have to do. Twilight looked aghast at the scene, having never seen such a sight before. The commander merely shook his head, while heaving a sigh and saying, “I also have to deal with things like that... on a daily basis.”
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Heh-Heh... Yeah, that beginning part...
Also yes, Lyra was here. (She was also in the last chapter if you hadn't noticed) She's off to her usual crazy self that we fans have made her into... Which, in all honesty, is something I've never understood.
Where exactly did the whole, Lyra = crazy for humans/hands thing comes from? Simply the act of her strange way of sitting as we have seen before? Is there something else she has done that I've missed? When you really think about it, the obsession with hands doesn't even make sense anyway. Considering they already have creatures with hands. Griffins, dragons, minotaurs, and diamond dogs so far.
Ah well, I've come to realize that I won't fully understand everything about this fandom. There are just some things that will always be a mystery to me. (Like how Shining Armor could possibly have fans... har-har-har
)
Also, yeah, Anders... how about that guy. Bordering on creepy if you ask me... I wonder, if he were to get even creepier, would you call it... pony-filly-a? (rimshot)
... 
... 
Ok, yeah, that last joke... No.
Apart from that, this story is AWESOME!
1981708
Yeah, the Lyra thing pretty much came from the way she has been seen sitting; there are also many popular stories (a notable one being Anthropology, which may be one of the first) which portray her this way. So the idea has become more popular as a result.
Also, what the fuck Anders? The CMC should've bolted when they had the chance.
Shale in a dress, that was MOST excellent
Well too be fair to Oghren here who wouldn't want an epic Pegasus mount?
Oghren is best warden.
Keep goign strong loved it all (though I thought Ogren would've made him pull him in a charriot instead of riding him.) and I think he doensth ave to deal with that every day am surem ost f the time Orgren is out cold from drinking.
Keep going awesome. 
1981708
Well, it's a fun thing called flanderization. Look it up.
I would've told you that this is priceless, but you already know it.
1982094 A fine point my friend.
I always love that moment when Rarity gets taken down a notch.
The theory i have now is that shale will try to squish Flutershy's birds and she will give him the Stare, i dont know if it work or not however.
I was listening to this while reading:
And it made me realize that this story should have a soundtrack/playlist.
NOW!!! MAKE!!!! ONE!!!! YOU!!!! WRETCHES!!!!!
several trees next to the simple camp where suddenly uprooted
They are so much sparkling and... beautiful
1. Were.
2. So much more sparkling.
Ahh... such a normal day in Ponyville, with Humans and golem roaming about slowly adjusting to their new habitat... When suddenly Ser Pounce-a-lot meets Opalessence. Both meet then mate then produces fluffy creatures that jump like rabbits and claw your eyes out.
"As choas began to ensue"
I'm sure that you meant "Chaos"?
Oghren wins the hilarity contest again and the though I still say the best over all scene for me was the shale and Philomina scene. I can't get enough of the fact that shale ran from a bucking bird.
1981708
This just made me giggle uncontrollably. You really got Shale's general disinterest and casual disregard for all life down very well.
>>>Becoming increasingly nervous, the mare leaned forward on the table, looking as though she were about to pounce on the human. “Please, just let me touch them. To feel them. I want to know what your hairless skin feels like.”>>>
Creepy Lyra is creepy...
Jarl?
him?
2028869
No, arl is correct. It's the title of the lords in the Dragon Age games. You might be thinking of the jarls from Skyrim, or of Nordic history from our world, but that's a similar concept, with a specifically different spelling.
me:poor commander dealing with all of those problems on a daily bases.
metal soinc:oh ogren.you'll never change.
metal scourge:lyra stop being creepy.
When he challenged Ogrhen I was like "This is gonna be good..." the final line was the best part though