Chapter 3 - Forage and First Contact
Forage and First Contact
Foreword: in this chapter I'll be using numbered footnotes on a few occasions. Look out for the numbers in brackets and bold that correspond with the appropriate footnote. Enjoy!
“Right, this one’s clear!”
Jack wiped his brow. Climbing the apple trees was fairly easy, compared to moving through the tough thick branches to collect all the apples. Below him on the ground, his new allies, the timberwolves, busied themselves taking the spoils of today’s harvest to their stockpiles deeper in the forest. It had been but a few days, but their collections had greatly increased over the last few days thanks to a little ingenuity on Jack’s part; every wolf now carried in their jaws a wicker basket(admittedly low-quality – Jack wasn’t anywhere near an expert in weaving), increasing their carrying capacity. It was rather an amusing sight, Jack chuckled to himself, of such tough and fierce-looking creatures carrying not only a basket, but such brightly-hued apples along.
<Good work, hatchling!> Rowan called up, <Make your way down and rest a while, there are no more trees in need of harvesting today.>
Rowan, the alpha wolf and also Jack’s first contact within the group, sat guard at the base of the tree as his pack ferried their precious cargo. In his own words, Jack would be perfectly safe with but a single wolf by him at all times, and who better than the strongest member of the group for the job of bodyguard? Not only that, Rowan remained the only wolf that would regularly talk to their human compatriot.
Save for the introductions to the few members of this pack, the other wolves tended not to talk around Jack, and remained quite focused on their jobs all the while. Presumably to save their magic, Jack believed. Slowly though, they seemed to be warming to his presence and his contributions, save Thorn, an aptly named male of a prickly personality. His true name was Raspberry, but refused to be identified by such a silly name.
Then there was Willow, a female whose graceful gait and how she held herself reminded Jack of the peaceful tranquillity of her namesake. Jack and Willow got along very well very easily, though she was quite reserved and shy around him and the other wolves.
Of course, supporting Willow was the ever-energetic and easygoing Juniper and even-tempered Holly, both females too. The three females of the group were almost inseparable, save for at harvest-time.
The final member of this tiny troupe was Oakenfrost (named after the sharp winter he had been “sung” into life in) or Oaken as he preferred to be called. As level-headed and clever as Rowan, Oaken stood as Rowan’s second-in-command in the pack’s pecking order.
As Jack clambered down, Rowan turned to face him. <Many thanks, my friend. With just one more tree’s load, we may finally be able to start restoring our clan to its former glory.> Rowan shifted slightly as Jack’s shoes hit the ground.
“Well, I’m only really returning the favour, you guys are keeping me safe and I’ve got to earn my upkeep somehow, don’t I?” Jack grinned, stretching.
<Well, whatever you claim, the timberwolves are glad of your help.> Side by side, the two began to return to their makeshift home. Jack had done what he could to make their rocky shelter a bit more comfortable, but it was no Batcave, not by a long shot. The opening to the cave was too wide and let in great gusts of cold air in the night, chilling him to his core. Perhaps soon I’ll find a better place to crash, Jack thought.
As they walked, however, Jack’s ruminations were cut short by the arrival of Oaken.
<Rowan, be on guard, the Striped one walks near!> Oaken barked out, causing Rowan to growl softly. Jack on the other hand knew nothing of what Oaken meant. He turned to Rowan.
“Who, or what, is the Striped one?”
Meanwhile, back in Ponyville...
Spike glanced nervously at Twilight. It had been several days since her frantic message to her mentor, Princess Celestia, yet she hadn’t received so much as a microfiche on the matter. True to past form, Twilight was obsessing over the “mistake” she thought she’d made, and her appearance grew more and more dishevelled with each day, her mane gaining more curls and split ends, and her lack of sleep leaving her with bags under her eyes and a slightly crazed look in her eyes.
It wasn’t helping either, Spike noted, that she’d been drinking copious amounts of coffee and had started researching again, tomes scattered around her as she hunted for any word of such a creature within the library’s (somewhat limited, as Twilight often remarked) stock of books.
Spike was very grateful, then, when the doorbell (literally, a bell by the door) sounded, breaking Twilight’s concentration. “Ugh, can’t anypony appreciate that this is a library? Quiet!” Twilight lamented. Spike sighed, shaking his head.
“Twi, the library’s been shut ever since you started reading agai-” Spike’s retort petered out as he opened the door and saw who was there.
“Greetings, Spike, may I come in?” Celestia smiled.
“And it spoke, you say?”
Celestia frowned lightly at the description. She and Spike were seated in the living area of the library, enjoying some tea, while Twilight frantically tried to clean herself up for the Princess.
“That’s what the Twilight was saying when she brought it back here,” Spike explained, “but I never got a chance to hear it.”
“How very peculiar. I’ve had the Canterlot Academy’s Research team scouring the archives and they haven’t found so much as a mention of such a being in any of the books. The most we’ve found is a vague reference to a Minotauren myth...” Celestia sighed, but a moment later giggled as Twilight emerged from the bathroom, looking like her usual self, save one little addition...
“Uh, Twilight?” Spike pointed to her back hoof, smirking.
“What?”Twilight looked back, only to blush as she spotted a few sheets of toilet roll stuck there.
"...OhmigoshI'msosorrybackinasecondPrincess!"
“Has anypony spotted the creature since this happened?” Celestia enquired, a smile on her face as Twilight dashed off, crimson-faced, to get rid of the paper.
“I’ve not heard if anypony has, Princess; I’ve been in here trying to make sure Twilight was alright.” Spike replied.
“Hmm...” Celestia mused. A moment later, Twilight returned, still red-faced from her blush, much to Spike’s amusement.
“Well then, I have a new task for you, Twilight,” Celestia spoke regally, as she arose from her seat. “This creature is completely new to us, and as such could be either a threat or an ally. On these grounds, therefore, you and your friends are to keep your eyes out for the creature again, and if possible speak to it. Who knows?” Celestia smiled. “If this creature is as sapient as you claim, you may even gain a new friend.”
“However ,Twilight, I do have a few concerns...” Celestia frowned a little. “This creature may have been on its own as you found it, but that does not mean it is alone. There may be more of its species in the Everfee, and if you discover any evidence that makes you believe so, you must exercise caution. In the worst case scenario, there could be a whole host of them capable of fighting. We do not wish to risk a potential war scenario, with a foe of which we know next to nothing about, because of some issue with how we handled the creature’s presence. I ask you as well, therefore, to avoid trying to aggravate the creature, and if you do come across more of its kind, make sure you have an avenue of escape clear.”
Celestia’s frown soon disappeared, and stretched as she stood once more. “Well, Twilight, it’s been good to see you, even if for only a short while. We really must have tea more often; it really is a pleasant break from the humdrum of palace life and running the kingdom.” She turned to leave, but paused at the door, smiling gently. “Oh, and Twilight? Don’t run yourself ragged on this. Just do what you can, I can ask no more than that from you. Perhaps your zebra friend has seen something of the creature? She lives in the forest, doesn’t she?”
Back in the forest...
“Who, or what, is the Striped one?”
Rowan crouched down, gesturing for Jack to join him on the ground behind a Muleberry bush (1). <The Striped one is one of those blasted ponies. However, we...> Rowan paused, <...tolerate this one. She seems to understand the laws of this forest. Most of their kind cares not for our sacred harvest, least of all those apple farmers...> Both wolves growled at this.
Something clicked in Jack’s mind. “Apple farmers? Is one of them orange, with blond hai- a blond mane, I mean, with a hat?”
Rowan’s growl deepened. <The grand-spawn of the one who first stole the fruits of our efforts, aye, that’s one of them. We try to get our harvest back each year, when the moon is full, and the night begins to grow in length once more, but they drive us away with the sound of iron on iron. ‘tis a dreadful thing, iron; many a tree has been cut down by a pony’s iron axe, and where a pony isn’t strong enough, a minotaur is often called in...> Rowan growled deeply, then looked at Jack curiously. <What do you know of the fruit stealer’s spawn, fledgling?>
Before Rowan’s question could be answered, however, Oaken growled for them to be silent and still. In the cover of the bush, the three of them waited for ‘the Striped one’ to pass.
“Hmmm... Forget-Me-Nots, in palest blue... Snapperdragon (2) seeds, a glorious red hue...” Jack chanced a glance over the top of the bush to see another pony. This one, however, was striped in black and white, with a Mohican mane and plenty of tribal-looking jewellery. As it (she, Jack thought) paced through the forest, the pony murmured to itself, checking through its baskets, one either side of its body with string over the pony’s back to keep them in place. Jack ducked down again, but not before spying a sturdy wooden staff slung across her back. Onward the pony padded, muttering to herself.
“The toughest leaves of an Ironwood tree... which leaves... just a few berries of that young Muleberry.”
Jack froze, as did the wolves. Carefully, the zebra moved its jaws around a rather large berry, and in one swift movement, yanked it off the stalk.
HEE-HAWW!
Jack, not expecting the noise, leapt back from the bush with a curse, and the zebra responded in kind, though with a mouthful of Muleberry her scream was somewhat muffled. In one deft movement, the wooden staff was levelled at Jack using the zebra’s front hooves, just as the Timberwolves darted to in front of him from their cover behind the bush, growling fiercely at her. Slowly, the zebra assessed the situation, spitting out the berry.
“And what is this, that crosses my path this day? A pair of timberwolves, with a most unusual stray...” she murmured, her eyes now fixated on the growling piles of animated wood before her.
Jack bristled at this. “Stray?”
The zebra’s mouth fell open. “You speak in pony tongue, strange beast? Then...” Her eyes darted back to the wolves. “how is it you’re not these wolves’ next feast? I thought that the foul beasts would kill the forest's creatures to take their fill.”
Jack groaned a little at the memory. “It’s a rather strange story.” Gesturing for the wolves to back down, Jack recounted his tale in brief. Slowly the tension between the two groups lessened, until Jack had finished. Though it was clear the pony was still wary of the two wooden threats, some sort of silent truce had been called between the two sides.
“A peculiar tale you tell indeed.” The zebra mused, resting against her staff. Her eyes rested once more on the wolves. “To think that apples are what these wolves need... and to think one such as you would have discovered their point of view.”
Jack looked at the zebra curiously. “Do you always speak in rhymes?”
“Only when the mood takes me.” The zebra bowed, grinning. “I am Zecora. And you are...?”
“Jack.” Unused to the formality, Jack bowed a little too. Zecora tapped a hoof against her chin, and then snorted softly, a broad smile moving across her lips.
“Jack... a fine name for one with such new ‘friends’ as yours.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, think about it. They are wolves made of wood. Given your new association with them, that would make you..”
Jack pondered this for a moment, but soon facepalmed. “Lumber-Jack.” he groaned. “Do you always have such a way with words?”
“I have to be, or else my rhymes would fail.” Once again, the zebra chuckled. “Now, to my home, I had better make flight; one would not like to be caught in the Everfree at night.”
Jack looked skywards to check the time; his watch, oddly, wasn’t keeping time too well, losing a fair few minutes each night. Well, it was either that or the nights were drawing in very fast. Already the summer sun was beginning to decline a fair ways towards the horizon, making it around eight in the evening by Jack’s reckoning, whereas his watch read 17:00. For this time of year, Jack found it very peculiar.
“Yes, that sounds like a good idea, we’d better do the same.” Jack held out his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Zecora.”
Zecora put her hoof in his, shaking it. “Indeed, the pleasure was all mine, perhaps you should visit my home some time.” She eyed the wolves, chuckling softly, “I feel sure they know where it is.”
And with that, she turned and trotted away, only to halt not far away and turn back around. She returned to them, a slight blush on her face. “I almost forgot what I came for; a few berries.”
“Ah, right.” Jack chuckled, until a thought came to him. “Um, you’re friends with the ponies in town, right?”
Zecorah mused on this for a moment. “While at first they feared my foreign looks, they soon learned not to judge their books... hmm, that was not one of my best rhymes...” She tutted. “Well, yes, I suppose I do consider them friends now. Why do you ask?”
“I’d rather if you kept meeting me to yourself, if you can," Jack said sheepishly, “Having them chase me again sounds like a terrible idea, especially with my, ahem, new friends?” Jack gestured to the wolves.
“Ah, I see what you mean. Very well, I shall do my best, to hide our meeting like you request. Now off with you, can you not see, I’ve yet to pluck a single Muleberry?” Zecora frowned, but a little smile played on her lips.
Jack chuckled, and, turning away with the wolves, they left her to her harvest.
For a few hundred feet, Jack and the wolves walked in silence, until Rowan chose to break it. <So, that explains where you’d heard of the harvest-stealer’s grandchild; you were virtually in the same room as her. And just what was that word you used back there that made you groan so?> Rowan growled. <I did not recognise it, but it did not sound pleasant at all.>
Jack groaned again. And here I had hoped today’s drama was over and done with, he thought.
Meanwhile, in Canterlot’s swanky Upper District...
“No, no, NO!”
Truly sighed, carefully dodging an airborne vase. “I’m sorry, your Lordship, but there’s no way that plan would work.”
Such was the life of a valet in the Blueblood family’s household, Truly Faithful mused. His whole family had been butlers, maids and servants to the volatile brood of the Blueblood family, right back to the days of the first of the Bluebloods had been born, back in the days of Truly’s great-times-twelve-grandfather, Old Faithful. To date, the Faithfuls had diligently played a much required role in equestrian history; dodging countless thrown objects and insults, cleaning up after and providing care for the cream of the Canterlot aristocracy, (and a really thick cream it was too) and just shoving a spanner in the works of the mad machinations created by the Blueblood family.
Which leads us neatly back to Truly’s current situation. Wielding another vase in his hooves, (the Bluebloods had the odd tendency to forget their magic sometimes when angry) Prince Blueblood the Thirteenth ground his teeth in frustration. “Why not? They’d never see it coming!”
Truly shook his head. “And just how do you plan to train the bears to fire the lasers you’ve mounted to them? Not to mention, how would you get them in place without being discovered?” Truly countered, “And even then, let’s not forget the Element of Kindness works in Ponyville as a veterinarian. I hear she can talk with animals, and there’s the rumours that she out-stared a cockatrice and befriended a Chimera. Evidently not someone you want to get on the wrong side of, especially if you’ve just grafted laser cannons onto their skeletons?” Truly finished pointedly.
Blueblood paused, taking all this in, then slumped down onto his desk, the vase falling to his side as he moaned with frustration. Truly took this as a chance to quickly clean up around the Prince, depositing a cup of his favourite raspberry tea next to his face as the Prince slumped forward onto his desk.
“Oh, come now, Sir, it’s not all that bad.” Truly tried to console the Prince, patting him lightly on the back, a sympathetic look on his face. “The idea was a flop, yes, but at least you’ve found out what wouldn’t work, eh?”
He turned to face the door again. “Not to mention Prince Blueblood the ninth tried that one,” Truly muttered under his breath. While the Bluebloods took great pride in their genealogy, the Faithfuls took pride in their careful note-taking and long memories of the plans the various Princes through the ages had dreamt up. Without these, there would be plenty of animals trotting around Equestria with various weapons secured to them, Truly’s father would chuckle as he taught his son the tricks of the trade. For some reason the Bluebloods gravitated towards animal-weapon combos, just as surely as a pony was a pony (3) and as surely as Celestia loved cake. Unfortunately, more often than not the poor creatures would turn out to be completely useless as agents to carry out even the most simple the task, let alone, say, assassinating the Marequise de Fantailler or harassing Fancy Pants. They did have a surprising capacity for unfettered chaos among large gatherings though, Truly had to admit. The sight of an angry honey badger with scimitars strapped onto its claws would have even the toughest of the aristocracy fleeing for their lives.
Still, for the task at hand, Blueblood kept drawing up the most useless plans yet known to the Faithful family. It didn’t help either that he was so fixated on one particular target...
“Why?” Truly heard Blueblood say, his voice muffled by the desk under his face. Truly tried not to snicker at the sight of his employee so ridiculously arranged; his head pressed against the desk, sitting in an awkward position on his desk chair, with his back left hoof up in the air behind him and his tail wrapped loosely around the fallen vase. He continued, “Why must it be so damned difficult to get rid of those impudent mares?”
“Well, you have to admit, you did yourself no favours that night Sir,” Truly sighed, “from what I hear you made quite the ass of yourself without their help. No offence meant, Bean.” Truly apologised, turning to the geriatric donkey gardener on the other side of the study’s window.
Old Bean shrugged. “None taken.” Arthritically, he resumed his trimming of the House’s fine rose bushes.
Back inside, Truly continued, “Could you please drop this matter, young master? It HAS been over a year since that disaster of a Gala, and the other Noble Houses have gotten over the fiasco a while back. Surely addressing some other matters would be more productive? I hear Fancy Pants has opened another art Gallery in Canterlot, perhaps you could offer your, uh, masterful opinion?”
“ ‘m older than you, Truly.” Blueblood sulked, much to Truly’s amusement.
“And since when does that mean you get to sit here wallowing in your own mess, Sir?” He chuckled, poking Blueblood in the side playfully.
Blueblood looked over, a look of irritation on his face. “Such disrespect for your master! Don’t you know who I am?!”he shouted.
“I don’t know, could you give me a clue?” Truly grinned.
If looks could kill, he thought with some pleasure, the one the prince was giving now would have decimated Stalliongrad.
Blueblood hissed. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t fire you on the spot.”
Truly smirked. “Just one? Easy. Grilled cheese.”
As if on cue, Blueblood’s stomach rumbled, much to the aristocrat’s annoyance. He fixed Truly with a scowl, slumping back into his desk chair again. “...damn you, every time...”
Truly chuckled. “Ah, don’t be upset, milord, I’ll fix you some lunch. The usual, I’m guessing?”
“How in Sheleshtia’sh name do you get it to tashte sho good?!”
The valet smirked as his master wolfed down the grilled cheese sandwich set before him. Yet another secret kept by the Faithful family, Truly thought with some satisfaction.
“Ah, years of practice, Sir.” Taking a glass of water in hoof, the valet joined his employer at the dinner table; while Blueblood the thirteenth was by far, the most incompetent of the family, he was by far the easiest of the lot to manipulate by the Faithfuls, earning Truly and his relatives certain... perks every now and then, say, getting to sit at the grand dining table, (4) or more frequent holidays than the servants of other noble houses.
Truly savoured these moments; the Prince was stuffing his face, which meant he wouldn’t be obsessing over any plans other than filling his belly, leaving Truly a chance to just sit back and relax.
This time, however, Blueblood seemed to be thinking about something while he ate. Slowly, he finished his mouthful and stared at his valet with a frown.
“...Truly... you seem to know plenty about all the pitfalls on my plans...” Blueblood said, slowly and deliberately. There was something about his tone that made Truly shiver a little.
“Uh... yes, Sir?”
“I wonder, therefore...” Truly began to feel uneasy at Blueblood’s words. Could he be thinking-
“What would you do?”
Truly blinked, then shook his head. “I’m sorry?”
“What would you do?” Blueblood repeated slowly, with an intensity in his eyes Truly hadn’t seen in quite a while. It made the young valet shudder under his gaze.
“Err, I... W-well, I suppose...”Truly stammered, but Blueblood cut him off angrily.
“Time and time again you’ve shown me what’s wrong, now how about you tell me what’s right?!” he shouted. “Since you seem to know best, you’ve got three days, Truly. Come up with a plan to put paid to those mad mares!”
“B-but Sir, I... I’m no noble!” Truly stammered, trying to convince the Prince not to continue this line of thought. “What would the other Houses think if it got out that a commoner was meddling in a noble’s affairs?”
Blueblood ground his teeth in frustration, his tone turning to a wheedling whine. “Then we don’t let them know! You make the plan, and I’ll put it into action. Come on, you’ve got the brains, I’ve got the funds and the contacts. It’ll be easy! Between the two of us, I’ll bet we can wipe those silly fillies off the map!” the Prince snorted, a sly grin creeping onto his muzzle. “That’ll teach them to mess with me!”
Truly tried to calm down. Come on, think, how can I get out of this?!
With no clue how to yet, however, he stammered “Uhh... I- I guess I could try, Blueb- I mean, Sir.”
Blueblood, meanwhile, was once again grinning, a dangerous gleam in his eye as he dreamt of success in his future. “Finally I’ll be rid of those six; Applejack... Rainbow Dash...” he hissed each name, “Pinkie Pie... Fluttershy... Celestia’s own pupil, that insufferable bookworm Twilight Sparkle... and the mare who ruined the Gala the most for me...
“Rarity.”
End of Chapter 3
(1) The Muleberry used to be an innocent enough mulberry bush, until a rather unfortunate incident involving a very clear-sighted grey mare with a blond mane and bubbles for a cutie mark, a large Poison Joke patch, and plenty of Poison Joke pollen, caused the plant to take on new properties. Now, whenever anyone attempts to pick the berries of the Muleberry bushes, the sound of a braying mule can be heard, much to the shock of most first-time pickers. Well, Poison Joke has an odd sense of humour. Incidentally, the mare in question now lives in Ponyville, delivering mail. Nopony knows the full details of the story, owing to the mare’s storytelling abilities (or lack there-of), and she has yet to discover the cure for the prank played upon her by that perfidiously perverse plant. Still, with such a curiously common cure of taking a bubble bath, it shouldn’t take too long for her to find it.... right?
(2) Snapperdragons, like the Muleberry, were among the plants afflicted by the Poison Joke pollen spread that day. Originally Snapdragons, the flowers of said plant are known to attack any animal or insect that gets close to its fiery-coloured petals, with little jaws shaped like a dragon’s muzzle. The seeds of the plant, which are coincidentally placed where a dragon’s fangs would be, are particularly useful in the strengthening of a flavour or a potion’s power. One single seed can spawn many new plants, each as fierce as the original, leading to a popular myth about what would happen if you planted a dragon’s tooth in the ground. It really is strange how Poison Joke chooses to work.
(3) Except when they’re a changeling, cleverly disguised zebra spy, Discord in disguise... it has to be said, for a phrase in common usage, it had some glaringly massive exceptions.
(4) A fine piece of craftsmanship that was designed to seat 50 ponies. Unfortunately, it had been designed by Screw Loose, a famously terrible eccentric inventor who decided to take it upon himself to design a table where the politics of the aristocracy would be null and void. In doing so, he made a table where each pony would be seated at most one space away from the host, and in the process managed to break several of the laws of physics, and even a few laws of magic too. This left the table warped through space such that only three places were actually visible in the normal planes. Nobody had yet figured out how to reach the other 47 places, not even Celestia herself.
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oh bluey what would your aunt celestia think if you managed to "get rid of those mares". i dont think she would be to happy about that and you would basically be dooming equestria.
Honestly, I think that this story would be better without blueblood in it. or at least less evil. or at least some sort of restrained evil like dr. evil and not single minded brutal burning hatred evil like Predator. One idea I am thinking about with great glee is that BB eventually finds out about the human and he thinks he should kidnap Jack and train him to be an assassin to attack the main six. Just the look on Celestia's face would be worth it. He goes and instead of killing them he befriends them. Mwahahahaaa!!
Overall though, I LOVE the lore building you got going on with the timberwolves of equestria. I'd love to see jack interact more with the wolves you've named. More dialogue between them 'n such. Thanks for another awesome upload!
2704053 cheers for the feedback, glad to hear you're liking the story. Interesting point about the Timberwolf lore, it's got me thinking; if this story ends up popular enough, people might write other pieces based in what I'm tentatively calling the "Timber-verse".
Also, gotta admit, the Blueblood-assassin-kidnap idea sounds much better than what I've got going through my head at the moment, I may have to run with that idea if that's alright with you.
2704174
Nah I'm fine with that go right ahead and use it if you want. The idea of BB trying to use a human for some goofy/evil scheme only to have it blow up in his face sounds awesome to me :D
Yeah I think timberwolves are cool but whenever someone goes into timber-lore they make them out to be real nasty or evil or just something you want to avoid. This is the best one yet.
And while Blueballs is tryin to come up with som cockbitten scheme to 'remove' the elements, they are finding a new and highly intelligent creature from a race that has already technologically passed them.
And on that not, Truly Faithful probably should have mentioned that the technology doesn't exist there yet
I like it! Keen to see where this goes. Ten out of ten for the discworldesqueness, I pegged on to it but its been so long since I read a discworld novel I can't remember much more than Rincewind and the luggage
When all the named wolves are in one location they combine to become a Megazord
great chapter!
2704883 You mean the whole "laser cannon" bit? The glorious thing about the setting is we know a surprisingly small amount about what's possible in the Equestrian universe in terms of technology. So far in the show we've seen a hodgepodge of the more old-fashioned ways of doing things, for example in ponyville (wood-burning stoves, steam train, etc), and then out of nowhere, a hydroelectric dam, Twilight's crazy lab equipment, and the bonkers-ness that was theSuper-Speedy Cider-Squeezy 6000. There's also Vinyl Scratch's DJ decks to consider. This to me says there could be all sorts of other tech we've no idea about in Equestria, possibly that links with the abundant magic. I think our ignorance allows the use of artistic licence, am I right?
However, the clincher in all of this I feel is simply this; as far as I'm aware, the writers and Hasbro have not definitively confirmed or denied where Equestria is in terms of technological growth, nor even if it follows the developmental stages our world did. Such ambiguity leaves the field open for interpretation of all kinds, within reason.
2705101 Ah, I wholeheartedly recommend reading them again, Pratchett works so many fun little quirks into his stories.
The reference to Pratchett that I made here, is the inventor Screw Loose, who draws a remarkable parallel to the hopeless architect and all-around bad designer Bloody Stupid Johnson, wouldn't you agree?
2708014 My point was that humans have yet to officially weaponise laser technology and ponies have magic that could easily remove the necessity invent it, thus they wouldn't have the tech to weaponise.
2709548 ah, but that's kinda my point. pony technology is undocumented and unconfirmed. maybe the circumstances around their technological progression were massively different. imagine if NASA hadn't been around, eh? the space race? we'd be short on plenty of tech that was developed during the space programmes, and meanwhile the ponies have succeeded to put a pony on, or possibly in, the moon by magic alone. With such a dramatic difference between our cultures, I think it fair to say we have no clue how their tech developed, nor do we know at what point along that tech development timescale we would be impinging on.
2711820 Maybe I should make my point without the embelishment.
Unicorns and their magic remove their need to invent lasers.
2714249 and I make my counter-point - we don't know that for certain, especially if you factor in pegasi, earth ponies and other races who don't have the same form of magic as the unicorns. Alternate universes with unknown rules will therefore have other unknown variables, including technology progression, and bigods do we know Jack-all about Equestria.
2714293 ...Howzabout we agree to disagree on this matter?
There are too many variables to reach a collective perspective.
2714346 ya know, I was about to say the same thing.
it's been a pleasure debating this topic with you.
2714381 Agreed. I rarely get to have debates of such skill outside of philosophical concepts.
I'll just leave this here :|
Update?
2831930 sorry, mate, it's been another hectic month.
Resit exams, moving out of student accommodation, attempting to plan for all eventualities if I don't get back into university, coming up with menus for my family's dinners (mum's doing exam marking which takes up all of her time so I'm head chef at the moment)... long and short of it is, a distinct lack of inspiration and little time to use any that does turn up has resulted in no progress. no words. on the more positive side though, this week's looking pretty clear in terms of things that need to be done, so I think I might be able to churn out a few thousand words by the end of the week, and probably have a new chapter up by the 20th at latest?
2832040 Cool. I'll leave you to it then.
That table sounds amazing!
I want one.
Now.
I love wolves so naturally I was drawn to this fic. But I hate Blue blood especially since his presense is taking up valuable space in this story. So there goes the thumbs up and the favorite.
They all have tree names?! Does this mean that there was a timber wolf named dragon blood?
Aww! I wanted the story to utilize the fun cliche of cooking with love!
Blueblood malvado, que novedad.