OK, yeah, new story starting for y'all. Another OC-centric historical, this time about Pinkie Pie's Nana Pinkie, the one from her mother's side of the family. Since this is how Pinkie heard about the Mirror Pool, Nana Pinkie's a Ponyville homefilly, one who had enough of Ponyville's dodgy bollocks and went off to find a more honest life with her new husband, Bed Rock, in distant Rock Valley. But family follows you no matter how far you flee...

How did I miss this? Someone's trying to produce a cable-TV production of The Black Company with Eliza Dushku in the Lady role. I'm not sure why the emphasis on the Lady, since the actual protagonist is, y'know, Croaker, but that's interesting.

Ah, IM Global's a new player in television. Could be that they went too heavy on options and are inactive.

And there you go, it's finished. The story of the Annals is complete. The Company goes on, and life moves on, but the play is over.

I've got some further ideas, and certain characters were threatening to break out on their own towards the end there. In fact, they may break out of protective custody at some point, and start up their own story. But I'm making an executive decision that those stories aren't a part of the Annals' story.

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Yeah, OK. I admit it, I guess I'm a brony. And I went down to Baltimore for the con. Everyone I knew was in DC for Otakon, so I was basically by myself. Which was... kind of typical. I kept making references to my August 2014 trip to Lebanon, because frankly, it felt kind of similar. Alone, centered on my hotel, walking everywhere. In fact, I used more taxis in Lebanon than in Baltimore; well, to be honest, there's more public transit in Maryland than Lebanon. The only traces of

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Prodigy is a goddamn brilliant little story, full of world-building, cleverness, humor, and evil cuteness. It's also basically what you'd get if Dennis the Menace was a sly little changeling adopted by Mr. Wilson in a belled wizard's hat.

We need a better way to catalog fanfic; it took me *two years* to find this gem of a story. The author never wrote anything else, which is a shame.

Oh, the year was 1378, HOW I WISH I WAS IN CLOUDSDALE NOW!
A letter of marque came from the Crown,
To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen,

Celest' damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the skies for Griffish gold bits
We'd fire no towns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken mare on a Shadowfax pier
The last of Barley's Privateers.

Oh, Cracked Barley cried the town, HOW I WISH I WAS IN CLOUDSDALE NOW!
For twenty brave mares all weatherponies who

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It turns out, I was wavering between two capitalization schemes for my chapter titles, and I decided this morning to fix on one single standard, however wrong it might be.

Also, found a continuity error I just committed in the most recent chapter - addressed, lamely. Oh, well.

My name's Jonagold Applecore
Same as my daddy and his daddy before
You hardly ever saw Grandpa 'Gold round heah
He only came ta Ponyville twice th' year

He'd buy a hundred pounds of yeast and some copper line
Everypony knew that he made moonshine
Celestia's revenuers wanted Granpa Gold
He went up the Everfree with all he had
Afore my time but so I've been told
He never came back down Cockatrice Road

Now Daddy ran th' applejack in a big black dray

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All day they cooked, the baker-ponies in their field-ovens,
But the hooves gripping their ladles were covered in batter
And the hollow pits of the eye stared, vacant and starved,
Where luna's moonlight shone.

The hair-nets lay like blots on their thin manes,
The toque blanche splattered with powdered sugar and spice,
But they mixed the batter in the nests beneath the hill
As they had of old.

And the ovens glowed, and the mixing-machines, but there was no sound,

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But first, totallynotabrony's version of dreamwalker Cherie., getting ready to pounce on Woona or da Captain

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