27 - Ponyville's Antiques Roadshow
Extended Holiday
Chapter 27: Ponyville’s Antiques Roadshow
The world was dead. Or perhaps it’s better to say that the occupant was dead to the world. But all such states must eventually break, either in true death or in waking once more. For Shawn, it was the latter. The human blinked slowly and groggily as the familiar sensation of rousing from the sleep of the dead led him back into the usual routine of wiping sleep from his eyes and raising himself up to greet the new day. Or in this case, night, as he looked to behold the silvery beams shining through his window to light up the room. To his surprise, he discovered he’d fallen asleep still wearing his clothing, including the long blue coat that seemed to have become a staple of his attire. The material was wrinkled and rumpled, but at least it was still intact.
With an exertion of will, he righted himself and turned his body aside to land his feet on the floor. After taking a few more steadying breaths, he rose to his feet and allowed himself to adjust to the sudden change in orientation.Then he removed his coat and hung it on a chair next to the desk he had claimed as his own. A careful scrutiny of the surface soon assured him that the space hadn’t been disturbed, and he sighed in relief.
There was a light knock on the door. “Uh Hammer Strike, are you up? I heard movement.”
“Yeah,” Shawn sighed. “Well, the other one is, I guess.”
“Oh, Shawn, then,” Grif said. “Am I good to come in?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “How long was I out? I’m honestly not feeling too great.”
Grif nodded as he walked in. “Twenty-four hours, twenty-nine minutes, give or take.” He shrugged. “You gonna be ok?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Shawn gave a dismissive wave. “I miss anything important while I was out?”
“Not much. Some shooting range time, letter from Blueblood, meeting with the mayor, and a visit from the princesses. Oh, and you may also have your own changeling hive starting up, though Pensword’s still waiting on the princesses to approve it, since Equestria is technically still their territory.”
“Great…” Shawn sighed. “What did Blueblood want?”
“He sent a letter low-key demanding you send his people back, trying to sound like he respects you while also trying to intimidate you. I sent back an … appropriate response.” Grif handed him a paper. “Made you a copy.”
“Joy,” Shawn muttered as he took hold of the parchment and started to read it. After a few moments, he glanced at Grif. “How do you even come up with this many titles? Was it just to challenge his?”
Grif shrugged. “Seemed like the only way to make the point.”
“Fair enough. Not like I planned on sending them back anyway. I could see how he’s treated them, given they seem to never take breaks and need to be ordered to do so. I feel bad for the ones that replaced them.” Shawn sighed and rubbed at his temples.
“Well, we can only help so many,” Grif sighed.
“Indeed.” Shawn placed the letter down on his desk. “So, what was that about a Changeling hive?”
“Me-Me and Mutatio seemed to have found some empty caves near our destination, and they’ve started to build.”
Shawn stared at him blankly for a few seconds before sitting down on his chair. “Just … what are we dealing with? One day everything’s normal, and now we’ve got alternate forms, I’m a Lord, we have a small army at our call at this point. It just feels like we’re getting in over our heads, and yet we keep rising to the occasion.”
“Yeah,” Grif sighed. “And doesn’t seem likely to stop soon.”
Shawn rubbed at his forehead. “Yeah….”
“Could be worse,” Grif shrugged. “Could be boring.”
A wry smile crossed Shawn’s face. “Are you suggesting we should hope to ‘live in interesting times,’ too?”
“No. I’m simply saying I’d rather be in our current situation than bored.”
Shawn chuckled. “Careful, Grif. Your feline side is showing.”
Grif chuckled. “Maybe, but can you blame me?”
“No, I suppose I can’t.” He shook his head. “All right, anything else of importance to note?”
“We also have a mining company and a logging company set up, paperwork’s pending on a quarry.”
“I think I remember reading a report involving those,” Shawn hummed in thought. “I’ll double check for it later. In any case, I suppose I should look into getting some work done.”
“Yes, that makes sense.” Grif nodded.
A knock sounded at the door. “Grif? Is he awake yet?” Pensword called.
“Yeah, I’m up,” Shawn spoke up in response.
“Might as well get in here,” Grif said.
Pensword strode in and breathed a sigh of relief. “Glad you didn’t fall into another coma. I was starting to worry.”
“Sorry about that.” Shawn rubbed the back of his head.
Pensword sighed. “I guess I’ll get used to it eventually. Just have to figure out how long you usually take,” he muttered that last part to himself. “Has Grif caught you up on everything?”
“Yeah.”
“So you know that we’re probably going to have to deal with some sort of more direct delegation from the nobles soon,” Pensword said. “What do you want to do about it?”
“That, … is a good question. I’ll probably have to come up with more appropriate responses in line with how things operate here.” Shawn sighed.
“Well then, I know I won't have to worry about it,” Grif laughed.
“I’m sure I’ll figure something out for you. Don’t you worry about that.” Shawn smirked.
“Just what are you thinking, Shawn?” Pensword asked.
“I suppose I do need an entourage for such cases,” he hummed in thought.
“That probably is expected, isn’t it?” Pensword mused as he rubbed his chin in thought.
“Clearly, you two will be a part of it, but I’m unsure of anyone else.”
“Well, if you want to be on the safe side, you could always take Rarity. She’s been studying nobility for a long time, so she’s probably one of the best resources you can ask locally. And then you know you have someone you can trust, too,” Pensword suggested.
Shawn gave a small nod. “That could work, yeah.”
“And I assume a uniform of some sort is in order, too.”
Shawn shrugged. “You know I don’t really care about all that, but I trust you two to figure out the right way for you.”
“Honestly, I think we need to consider a flexible situation there,” Grif said.
“Care to elaborate?” Shawn asked.
“We need to consider non-standard kits for groups and such.”
“Sort of like how Boy Scouts had different patches for their uniforms to differentiate the patrols?” Pensword asked.
“Yes, but a little more distinctive than that, I think. It’s best we work on distinctive armor designs for our individual groups.”
“You know, it’s funny you should mention that,” Shawn said as he drifted toward his desk. “I’ve been working on a few designs. Care to take a look?”
“Maybe after we finish ironing out a few more details? I think it’s safe to say we all know Blueblood well enough to know he’s not going to give up. Do we want to have the nobles coming here to Ponyville or do we want to go to Canterlot?” Pensword asked.
“I don’t want to torture this town,” Shawn said.
Pensword nodded. “Canterlot, then. And we can stop at Joe’s after for donuts.”
“I’ll treat you if we can keep Prince Blueblood from coming to Ponyville,” Shawn said. “How does a dozen sound? Or twelve dozen?”
“You just want to spend the bits, don’t you?” Grif asked.
“I’ve still got over half a bloody chest full!” Shawn gesticulated spitefully at the chest in question. “I need to get rid of it somehow, and I’ve run out of things to buy that have use.”
Pensword raised a brow in surprise. “After everything we’ve been investing into the town?”
Shawn let out a helpless chuckle. “Please, open the chest, and try to tell me there isn’t that much in it.”
Pensword followed the request and whistled at the sight of the gold pieces glittering. He could almost hear the triumphant chorus in the background as his ears twitched. “You’re right. It really does look pretty full. Did they put some kind of spell on it or something?” he asked. “Some sort of space-saving charm?”
Shawn yawned and shrugged. “Iunno. If you both want money to spend, take some. I don’t need it for the most part.”
“I’m making expenses.” Grif shrugged. “Still, guess I know where to go if I ever need a loan.”
Pensword nodded. “It seems the princesses decided to gift us with a certain amount of recompense for the work we’re performing with the cadets as well. I’m thinking of opening up a bank account here in town. If the chest is taking up that much space, why not just open one for yourself, too?” he asked.
Shawn blinked. “Oh yeah, there’s a bank here.” He stroked his chin. “Perhaps I should put some away…”
“I mean, it couldn’t hurt.” Grif shrugged. “Probably won’t make a ton of interest, but might help keep it steady.”
“I don’t think that’ll be an issue,” Shawn remarked flatly, gesturing toward the chest of bits once more. “Either way, I’ll get to that in the morning.”
Pensword yawned. “Well, I think it’s time for me to get to bed, then. We can take you to see the princesses after you open your account tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
Taze stretched his human form out and groaned. It felt much like sliding back into an old suit as he rotated the joints. He’d decided to return to human form for a while before risking getting too comfortable as a Gryphon, as well as preventing questions about his whereabouts. The sun was just peaking up over the horizon as he closed the Punch Bowl’s door behind him.
“Good morning.” Moonshade’s voice was surprisingly soft, almost to the point of making Taze jump.
The human raised his brow as he gazed on the mare and the collapsed form of a familiar blue Pegasus that currently laid under one of her leathery wings. Then he smirked and chuckled. “Morning. You two seem cozy.”
Moonshade blushed. “He wanted to keep watch, but something must have tired him out during the day. He fell asleep a few hours ago. I didn’t have the heart to put him into bed.”
“I suppose that's fair. Just make sure he gets proper rest, okay? And don’t do anything sneaky.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Moonshade’s face turned a curious shade of purple as her ears brightened into a lighter pink. “I would never.”
Taze laughed heartily. “I think that's the first time I ever got a reaction from you.”
Moonshade uttered a few choice words under her breath. “If you’re looking for Lord Shawn, he left about a half hour ago. Some smith masters, architects, and other tradesponies are supposed to be arriving today, so he went to the forges to prepare to greet them.”
“That makes sense.” Taze nodded. “But nah, just going out to keep up with my workout.”
“Without your ax?”
“I do more than that, but it’s part of it.”
“I assume you’re planning on another surprise inspection while you’re out?”
“Dunno yet. It will be a surprise!”
Moonshade shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Maybe, but at least I'm not boring.” Taze laughed as he waved his farewell, grabbed his ax, then whistled to himself as he departed.
Hammer Strike sighed as he looked over the armor sets he’d made at the Crystal Empire. While they held up well enough from the combat, they never received full maintenance afterwards, leaving a series of dents, scratches, and some minor warping. Pensword’s in particular had a deep dent in the chest, which would restrict breathing.
While working on the armor through the night was efficient, once morning came he was suddenly struck by a number of workers stopping by with questions, and soon found himself having to guide them to their work spaces.
He frowned as he thought over his needed materials, some of which they didn’t have in stock and would need to be imported.
“Great,” he muttered.
“That's the sound of someone who realized they didn’t bring enough iron,” Storm Hammer laughed.
“Moreso that we don’t have an import of Crystalline Steel, and I’ll have to figure out a suitable replacement,” Hammer Strike remarked, glancing over to Storm Hammer. “The import for that is going to take at least a week or longer.”
“What do you need it to do?” she asked.
“It was used on the ear protection, primarily in the joints to keep them flexible and capable of following the natural movement of said ears.” He gestured towards the helmet resting on his worktable.
“How did you figure that out?” she asked, looking it over. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Not having any bearings small enough to fit there, I had to improvise some metal joints that I could remember. Thankfully, they hold up well, but they’re dependent on the material. Steel, or example, is too stiff, and tends to lock up on itself in these situations.”
“So you need a material that's soft enough to be malleable but hard enough to ward off a blow?”
“To a degree, yes.”
“Have you thought about electrum?” she asked.
Hammer Strike hummed in thought. “It could work, but the material may have difficulty with movement against itself. Worth a try, I suppose, so I’ll add that to an order.”
“Not sure what else would work besides gold, and we both know that's a dead end.”
“Exactly.” He sighed. “I’ll probably put in an order for a set of materials that might match the conditions I need. Beyond that, though, it’ll just be trial and error.”
“That’s the name of the game isn’t it?”
“Indeed. Kind of surprising that it isn’t used more often, though. I mean, wouldn’t you want a guard for your ears?”
“It’s been attempted. No one can really get the joints right for it, though. It always ends up meaning we sacrifice part of our hearing, which, for guards, could be deadly.”
“Think you could replicate my design if you study it enough?” he questioned, looking over to Storm Hammer.
“It would take a while,” she answered honestly. “Some of the parts you used, I’ve never seen before.”
“Fair enough.” He frowned. “Maybe wait for my second iteration of them. I could probably do better when I’m not in a rush to make three sets of armor and weapons in two days. I should be able to do better.”
“You must have run your helpers ragged with that.”
“I … did it alone,” Hammer Strike admitted.
“You created three kits in two days … alone?” She looked at him, dumbfounded.
“I honestly wasn’t too sure on how well I could manage making it, and given who I currently am, didn’t want to … make things difficult.”
“That's an amazing feat for anyone,” she said. “Seriously, do you never sleep?”
“I do, just … not as much since arriving here.” He frowned. “It’s been getting difficult to get rest, to be honest.”
She just shook her head, mumbling to herself as she returned to her work.
“I mean, hey, it’s at least not affecting my cognition or physical state.”
Taze knocked on the library door loudly after a quick walk in the morning air to said library. With any luck, Luna would be able to see him now.
To his surprise, a Lunar Guard opened the door at the Library and stepped back. “Princess Luna was expecting you. She’s currently residing in the basement. Please watch your step, as no lights are on currently.”
“Uh, thank you,” Taze said as he walked in. “Convenient,” he mumbled under his breath as he took the stairs carefully to feel his way out. Grif could see in the dark without difficulty. But a human’s vision was not so keen in the dark. “Uh, hello, Princess Luna?” he called out.
What he found took his breath away as he finally stepped on the floor of the basement. As if waiting for him to finish his descent, the ceiling lit up with a thousand pinpricks of light as a small orb hung off to the side showing the cratered surface of Luna’s charge. In the middle of the room, surrounded by faint blue glowing rings and spokes with images of some arcane manner, Princess Luna sat smiling. A second later, Luna appeared by the stairs. “My apologies for not meeting face to face. I am just dealing with the end of the night shift, and my duties as guardian of the dreams of Equestria. At which point I too shall rest.” She smiled tiredly. “You have something on your mind. Do you wish an audience with the Lunar Court?”
“It is my understanding, Princess, that you once learned to fight amongst the Gryphons?” Taze asked.
She smiled. “If it’s training you want, I’d be happy to teach you in your dreams about Gryphon fighting techniques.”
“Thank you.” Taze nodded “From what I’ve read, Grif is far from a popular figure in gryphon history, aside from being considered an outcast, he was also called ‘the Egg Smasher.’ I’m hoping that is some term for traitor to the people and not actually what the name implies.”
“It has two meanings,” Princess Luna began with a smile. “And with that question, it seems your lessons will begin this morning.” She spread her wings and a drawing of a Gryphon in the style of the artwork shown at the intro of the very first episode of Friendship is Magic appeared in the air. “The first meaning was that you killed a small enclave nest of Changelings.” She dropped her wings. “However, the term was usurped by those who were blinded by their own hate towards us, and changed to mean traitor, one who, if ever allowed into the homes of any children, would rend them apart.” She fully dropped her wings to her side as the smile faded into sadness.
“You apparently have met me in your past and my future. Was I that bad?” Taze asked. “The books I’ve gotten so far have been mostly on the culture. In my research, I found references have been made to the fact that Grif is to be spurned. They even attempted to erase the name from history.”
“An act that was stopped with the treaty that my Sister and I forged with them,” she muttered darkly, and seemed to poof from irritation. “As for what you did and will still do?” She smiled. “To keep the spoilers down, you live to the code of a warrior, both of the Gryphons and of Pokke. Within my ranks, to this day, it is symbolic now, but one guard in my personal guards always wears a metal feather painted like your own on their person. We shall not state the reason behind that, but know that it is still held in high regard.”
“That’s comforting to hear.” Taze sighed. “Probably the scariest future I could imagine is becoming a monster.” It took a moment for him to realize how particular comment could be taken by his present audience. “I uh, didn’t mean that at you….”
Princess Luna chuckled. “No offense taken, Taze. Nightmare Moon is a chapter of my life I am not proud of, but it is not something I shrink from.” She narrowed her gaze. “Know this, however, Taze. Grif will become a monster, but not in the sense you might think. He becomes a monster that is feared by the real monsters. You remind them of how far they have fallen. And that is something that a Gryphon’s pride does not wish to bear. To us, you are a hero. Those that you fought against villainized you and tried to erase your name because you uncovered their shame for all to see.”
“You’ve given me a lot to consider,” Taze noted. “Thanks for your help. And i look forward to training with you, but i think I’m going to need to ponder all of this now.” He gave a Lunashort bow “Thank you, Princess Luna.”
“You are welcome Grif, Warrior and Champion of the injured,” Luna replied. “However, before I go.” She looked to the sky and then back to Taze. “How is my Major holding up having to spend time with her foalhood hero?”
Taze laughed loudly. “Princess, there may be a time where I may need to request from you that the sky be perfect for a night. She is as hopeless as he is, and I fear nothing but a major push or the rise of He Who Must Not be Named will break the wall they’ve set.” He laughed again. “I hope with your aid will bring that wall down for them.”
Princess Luna smiled and nodded. “I don’t understand the reference, but I do understand the sentiment. It might please you to know that I’ve planned for such a perfect night on New Year’s Eve.” Then she allowed herself an excited little dance. “Ooh, it’s been ages since Tia has let me play matchmaker. Tell me, do you have plans already?”
“Oh, plans I have, but with your help now, I have means.” Taze laughed. “And don’t worry. I ramble a lot myself. So, here’s what we’re going to need….” And thus the two began their conspiracy.
Hammer Strike strode calmly toward the Punch Bowl with a large sack draped across his back. Metal clinked and jingled with every step as he approached the door and pulled it open. The tap room wasn’t very active yet, since most of the other Ponies were still at work. Berry Punch raised her head to glance idly from one of the many glasses and steins she was busy dusting and polishing in preparation for the guests and patrons that would be coming that night. A ledger sat open on a bare patch of counter nearby, and she would glance toward it with a surprisingly intent expression for one who so often seemed to struggle with hangovers. The communication between the two Ponies was unspoken, as usual. Berry respected Hammer Strike’s style, and he was grateful for that. A soft nod between the two of them was all the greeting they required.
A set of hooves clopping down the stairs drew Hammer Strike’s attention, and his gaze soon fell on his new seneschal. Polished Brass took one look at his lord and gasped, then approached rapidly and gave a hasty bow. “Milord, I wish you’d asked for one of us to come with you. If you were going to bring back supplies, we would have been happy to assist you. It is the duty of the servants to serve, after all. That includes procuring and delivering various items. Might I help you bring these to your room?” he asked, gesturing toward the sack.
“No, no, it’s all right. It’s Pensword’s armor.” He shifted the sack. “I just finished repairs on it and planned on dropping it off before I head off for a brief meeting followed by looking into the market for anything useful.”
“If you’d like, you can draw up a list. I can ask one of the staff to look for you so you have more free time for other pursuits,” Polished Brass offered.
Hammer Strike shook his head. “I actually enjoy overlooking the market. I’ve found quite an interesting selection of items on my trips.”
“Then at the very least, we should arrange a companion to assist with carrying what you purchase or setting the arrangements for delivery. I do have one in mind, should the suggestion be amenable to you.”
Hammer Strike knew this was going to happen one way or another. “If you insist, then I shall accept, this time. After, of course, I drop this off and prepare myself.”
“Of course, Sir. With your leave, I’ll go to inform the staff. She’ll be ready to join you once you finish your errand here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hammer Strike replied as he made his way toward Pensword’s room. What he hadn’t anticipated was Moonshade still standing guard while Pensword was asleep. He hummed as he took in the two. “Still standing guard, I see,” he commented softly.
“More keeping him from leaving until he actually sleeps.” The Thestral rolled her eyes. “Is that the new armor?”
“Yeah.” He placed the sack off to the side. “Fixed up the dents and fixed up some of the dexterity issues.” He looked over to Moonshade and what she was wearing. After a moment he hummed and spoke again. “Sometime in the future, maybe you could stop by as well. I think I could upgrade what you’re wearing, too.”
“That would definitely make life easier.” She nodded. “I heard from Princess Luna that the nobility may try making a move on you soon.”
“Joy.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Having been informed of my … standing has only made things more awkward and added more nuance to things. I’m sure the others feel the same,” he finished, gesturing roughly in the direction of Pensword.
“He definitely seems stressed,” she agreed. “Though he’s handling himself amazingly well.”
“I suppose I could say you’re helping in that regard.” Hammer Strike gave a brief chuckle.
“How so?” she asked, tilting her head.
“By keeping him focused or distracted at times. Though, I’m certain you’re certainly feeling strange, seeing a legend before it was fully formed.”
“I mean, they say never meet your heroes. Though so far, it’s not nearly as bad as they make it seem,” she chuckled. “I had the biggest crush on his legend as a foal.”
”Did you now?” Hammer Strike raised a brow. “Well, in either case, I’ll wish you luck if you pursue.”
She blushed at the comment. “Not sure I’m the type to end up with dashing heroes of old.”
“Well, if you think about it that way, you wouldn’t make any progress. But, last I checked, we’re currently in a state before said acts of heroism.”
“I mean, you're not wrong,” she admitted.
“Then you’ve got something to think about then,” he chuckled.
“Yes. Thank you.” She sighed. “Is there anything else?”
Hammer Strike thought it over. “Pensword, Grif, and myself will be away to Canterlot soon for a meeting with certain noble houses, so you’ll either be ordered to tag along or, if not, you’re welcome to join us.”
“Thanks for at least giving me the option.”
He nodded. “In any case, I’ll probably look into some new weapons for the trip. Never know what’ll happen there,” he muttered the last part.
“That seems like a very wise idea.” She nodded. “Will you have them ready by then?”
“Easily. It’s just a matter of determining what to bring, especially since most of them seem to dislike open weaponry. So perhaps some new concealed weapons on top of what I’d normally bring.” He hummed in thought.
“I mean, Canterlot lives in a fantasy land where they believe everything is completely safe.” She shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, they’ve even attempted to keep the guards from carrying spears a few times.”
“Yeah, because disarming the guard is a smart idea.” Hammer Strike rolled his eyes. “Yeah… Making a loud statement would be a good idea. Perhaps a great weapon of some kind. Maybe a greatsword.”
“That would certainly send a message. Not exactly a common choice amongst Ponies.”
“Fair.” He nodded. “All right, I’ll leave you to your duties. I should get back to my plans.” He gave her a nod as he departed.
“Let’s see…. Get around to the meeting with Celestia and/or Luna at Twilight’s, short trip to the market, glance over and determine small plans afterward, then return for paperwork,” he muttered to himself as he continued on his way downstairs.
The subtle swish of fabric was the only indication of the mare’s approach. Her outfit, while not the formal garments one would expect from a maid, were still designed for functionality and respectability. A winter cloak was wrapped around her body with a hood waiting to be pulled up over her head should she need it. A conservative pair of earmuffs wrapped around her neck, and a pair of saddlebags were tied around her barrel. Her gray mane contrasted well with her brassy coat of fur, and there was no sign of a horn or wings to be seen. “M’lord,” she greeted him with a bow. “Polished Brass informed me of the task. I’ve come prepared with the necessary materials, including multiple sacks to carry goods in, should you be of a mind to make larger purchases today.”
Hammer Strike gave a small chuckle. “You’ll potentially find yourself disappointed. I can carry quite a lot.”
“I’ve no doubt. But it’s difficult to bargain properly while laid down with goods. I understand you want to carry a certain amount yourself, but I hope you’ll allow me to serve you at least a little by carrying what I can. I’m much stronger than I look.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave a smile. “Though do be warned, I have a habit of taking on more than I should in terms of … nearly anything. Beyond that, we’ll see how the trip goes before we further plan on it.”
“As you wish,” she acquiesced meekly. “My name is Dust Bunny, Sir. Chores and errands are my specialty.”
Hammer Strike nodded. “I’ll ensure I commit it to memory. It’s a pleasure.”
Dust Bunny offered a shy smile in return. “We’re ready to depart when you are, M’lord.”
Hammer Strike gave a sigh before a small smile formed once again. “Had a feeling it wouldn’t be that simple. All right, let’s be off then.”
As the two emerged from the inn, a pair of familiar stallions decked in civilian clothes flanked either side. The barest hints of armor pushed against the winter garb to indicate that while they may have been dressed for weather, they were still ready for trouble.
“Afternoon, Sir,” Blast Shield said with a smile.
“Lovely day for a walk, wouldn’t you say?” Tower Shield finished.
“Can’t ever take a break, can you?” Hammer Strike chuckled. “I suppose it is nice out.”
“The price of nobility,” Tower returned.
“Though it does come with some perks, Sir,” Blast said. “Like getting to enjoy this day without being stationed in Canterlot.”
Dust Bunny giggled.
“Enjoy it while you can. I’ve got to make a trip back there soon enough,” Hammer Strike remarked.
“If it’s with you, Sir, we won’t mind,” Tower said.
“Faust have mercy on the poor souls who had to replace us,” Blast added.
“Amen,” Dust Bunny offered in a far more timid murmur.
“Ex Divinia Etiam, it must have been horrible. I’ve hardly interacted with them and I got a pretty good feeling from that alone.” Hammer Strike chuckled once more. “At least you all appear to be enjoying the new job, even if it is dull and uneventful at this time, given we have yet to move toward the old castle grounds.”
“A good leader plans ahead and waits for the opportune moment,” Tower said. “We can manage until it’s time.”
“Besides, with you and your friends around, it’s never boring,” Blast added.
“Fair enough, I suppose.” Hammer Strike shrugged.
It didn’t take them long to arrive at Golden Oak Library. Its branches were laden with snow carefully built up to form a faux crown in place of its missing leaves. The soldiers took one look at Hammer Strike, nodded, then opened the door for him.
Luna looked over the last scroll a few times before nodding and sending it away in a burst of dark blue fire. “I believe that covers everything that needs to be covered,” she said to Taze.
“So it’ll be ready, then?” Taze asked.
“Is this a conversation I should sit by on and wait outside?” Hammer Strike asked with his sudden arrival.
The guards in the room started and swiftly drew their weapons before realizing just who they were drawing them on. They looked questioningly at Princess Luna. The mare nodded in return, and the guards drew back to return to their posts.
Hammer Strike raised a brow. “Didn’t realize I could startle someone so easily.”
Luna shrugged. “They’re just on edge with all that's happened.”
Hammer Strike shrugged in response. “Fair enough. In any case, should I come back later?”
“You're good,” Taze said, heading for the door. “I was just leaving anyway.”
Hammer Strike nodded. “We’ll catch up later.”
“Later.” Taze nodded as he left.
“I’m glad to see that you came,” Luna commented.
“It’s no problem. Though I apologize for taking my time to get here. Other things took my attention, admittedly.” Hammer Strike rubbed the back of his neck.
“It’s understandable. I’m sure you're very busy.” She nodded. “This is mostly just whatever prep I can help with for your coming move.”
“More information is always useful. What have you got for me?”
“Well, for starters, the portcullis is likely to be in severe disrepair. The metal wasn’t in the best shape when I returned, and winter has likely done nothing to help it.”
“Taze actually figured that part out, as it collapsed soon after they departed.”
“Well then, as you probably guessed, most of the facilities are archaic,” Luna explained. “I imagine they’ll take some work to get them up to modern standards.”
“Amusingly enough, I have plans to solve that issue. Though how much of the previous system can be used will only be determined when I can check it out.” He frowned in thought. “Given the descriptions I’ve received so far, I’ll likely have to gut the current one entirely and start anew.”
“I should warn you Celestia and I had some creative adjustments made to the palace when we were younger, some traps one might consider childish.”
Hammer Strike blinked. “Fair … enough? I’ll ensure everyone is properly warned.”
“Were you warned of the mercenary groups that tend to use the area?”
“We were.”
“That seems to be everything, then.”
“In that case, I’ll keep all that noted.” Hammer Strike hummed. “If there isn’t anything else, I do have something that I can bring up.”
“Oh?”
“I planned on making some adjustments to the armor of those who will be working under our group, including those of your guard stationed as assistance. Figured I would ask if you were fine with me making said adjustments to the armor of your guard.”
“What were you thinking?”
“One particular thing I had was to adjust their helmets, adding a hinge-based ear guard. It would basically just allow protection over the ears, given they are currently just out in the open. The swivel and hinge system I have in mind would allow free range of movement with protection and no penalties.”
“That would definitely be a monumental improvement.” She nodded.
“Then if you approve, I shall work on that in my free time.” Hammer Strike nodded. “In any case, that’s all I had to discuss.”
“Oh, I'll definitely approve.” She nodded. “Thank you for the effort!”
“It’s no problem. It helps keep me active. Never liked sitting idle.” Hammer Strike gave a soft grin.
The grin prompted a sad smile from Luna just for a moment before she nodded. “Well then, I think that's everything. We both have a lot to do yet, right?”
“It seems that way, yeah.” He nodded. “Have a good day, and night, all right?”
“You as well.” She nodded.
Hammer Strike took his leave, ensuring Dust Bunny, Blast, and Tower Shield followed along as he directed the two of them toward the market. “With that out of the way, shall we see what the market has in store?”
Dust Bunny nodded. “Of course, Sir. We can see about ordering more food for the rest of the staff as well.”
Hammer Strike hummed in thought. “Remind me to give Polished Brass bits to manage additional needs for everyone. I’d feel bad if it entirely relied upon me.”
“I will, Sir. In the meantime, I have the sacks ready to store whatever you may want to purchase.”
“We’ll see how things go when we get there. I think I’ve already spent my luck when I managed to find orichalcum for a cheaper price.”
Dust Bunny chuckled. “If the stories are to be believed, Sir, I think you might be surprised.”
The air was calm and still, and an overcast brought in by the weather patrol the previous night muted the sun to cast the sky in gray. In the Punch Bowl, a figure curled in bed stirred sleepily, then slowly opened his eyes. A slow yawn forced his body to move and stretch, cracking his slumber further as blood circulated through his veins anew. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, then asked the fatal question as he flapped his dark blue feathers to greet the day. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost noon,” Moonshade said tiredly.
Moonshade might as well have struck him with a cattle prod. Pensword bolted upright and leapt into the air as his eyes bulged cartoonishly wide. “What?”
“Yes. I thought you were just extra tired, so I let you sleep in a bit.”
“Now that would be a feat,” he murmured to himself, then shook his head to clear the unintentional pun from his head. “I appreciate the thought, Moonshade, but seriously, I can’t afford to sleep in like that. What would the troops think if this became a habit?”
“I doubt it would become a habit.” She shrugged. “The troops will understand.”
“Most of the troops probably will. It’s the brats and the self-entitled that I’m more concerned about, especially those who are still struggling to overcome their aristocratic pride.” He lowered himself to the floor, then looked critically at Moonshade. “But enough about that. You look ready to drop. Just how long have you been staying awake this time?”
“That's not important,” she said. “I’ll be able to sleep soon.”
“It’s important to me, Moonshade,” Pensword’s voice came gently as he approached her. “You’ve been with us from the beginning. You looked after us, and you still do.” He huffed a single low laugh. “You were watching me just now.” He laid a wing over Moonshade’s back. “At least let me return the favor,” he said as he guided her toward the other bed.
“I suppose a couple hours couldn’t hurt,” she admitted begrudgingly as she was led.
“You know, I could tie you to that bed if I have to,” Pensword pointed out.
“I really doubt that,” she chuckled.
“Careful. I may just be tempted to do it one of these days.” He smiled, then gestured to the mattress. “All right. In you get.”
“Thank you, human.” She yawned as she crawled into bed.
“You’re welcome, Thestral,” Pensword answered in kind as he drew the covers over her. “I’d say good night, but I think in this case, good day would be more appropriate.” He chuckled. “Sleep well.”
“I will,” she mumbled as she slipped off to sleep.
Pensword smiled as he crept to a chair nearby and sat down. “And I’ll make sure you do,” he murmured to himself.
Meanwhile, a few guards were gathered in one of the new buildings at the base in a half-completed library.Gray Skies looked out the window, his face furrowed in frustration. “I can’t believe we gave up the officer barracks for even more Ponies.” The Stallion looked up and turned his head as he heard a door open and close. “Hey, Straight Nail, any idea when more barracks will be built?”
“It’s going to take some time. At this point, it might not be worth the resources,” the Pony noted. “By the time we get more buildings done, it will be time to move.”
The guard at the window nodded. “Yeah, just, it feels strange not having the actual brass on base.” He shook his head. “Then again….” He trailed off. “I don’t know what to think with these characters. There are rumors that the three humans are in fact those heroes that showed up before Hearth’s Warming, and—” He paused and turned around, suddenly unwilling to finish the sentence. “This just, … I thought moving to a place like Ponyville would be a normal retraining, yet here we are building forts, towers, walls, scouting the edge of the most dangerous forest in Equestria with outright plans to travel into it. What did we get ourselves into?”
“We’re breaking ground. We could be famous for this.” Straight Nail shrugged. “Besides, we’ve been doing relatively well.”
“Yeah, but for how long? I was reading some newspaper clippings on one of my leave days. Did you know how many events happen in this town?” The Earth Pony clip clopped to one of the tables. “I’m just waiting for the next horseshoe to fall.”
“You're being pessimistic.” Straight Nail shrugged. “I mean, we could have been border guards.” He shuddered at the mere mention of it.
“I wonder if we are,” Gray Skies muttered. “Still, this thinking has kept my family alive.” He sat down and looked at the pile of newspapers, then sighed. “But I guess when you expect the gray clouds, you can enjoy the weather.”
“But it makes it hard to enjoy the sun,” the other pony laughed.
“Maybe, but it never gets too cold or too hot either.” He paused for a time as he pondered what to say next. “What do you think about those new folks in the barracks? And the rumors about Lord Hammer Strike?”
“The latter? I don’t really care about the rumors. I just wonder what the new armor’s going to look like when we’re getting it designed by a living legend,” Nail said. “Even the solar guard gets their armor from the castle forges. And we’ve got three of the best smiths from there. And you heard what happened at the showdown. Whether you believe he’s the legend or not, he knows how to smith better than anyone.”
“Maybe,” Gray Skies admitted glumly as he glowered. “But I wonder if we’re going to be guinea pigs for whatever inventions he comes up with.”
“Seriously, Gray Skies? We’re getting custom made armor designed by a legend, weapons that are strong enough to cut through stone!” Nail said. “Is there no pleasing you?”
“I like the same, and what is comfortable, because I know comfortable is safe. And I like being safe. I signed up for the Guard to help my family, not to put my life on the line like that. I can handle normal danger, but this….” He shuddered. “We’re going to have to fight monsters, Nail. Real monsters. Honestly, if I can get a normal guard job after this training is done, that’ll be fine by me.”
“I was put on the bench because I couldn’t get the hang of a spear.” Nail shrugged. “If this guard unit offers me the chance to pursue something different, I’m all for it.”
Gray Skies nodded. “Think I might ask to be in charge of supplies or something, then. Something nice, relaxing, and where I know I can do a good job when I’m not fearing for my life.”
“After what happened in Canterlot, I’d rather do my part to keep Ponies safe,” Nail said “My sister was in Canterlot when the attack happened.” The once-bright face on the Pony had taken a stony expression as he recalled that day. “The look on her face afterwards was haunting.”
Gray Skies shivered. “Don’t remind me about that.” He was quiet for a time. “They … they almost got me, too. And I tried to fight back. I really did. But … do you know what happened when I tried to strike one? My father yanked me back and lectured me to keep my head down and not go after any trouble.” He looked at the table. “I … couldn’t really build up the confidence after that. I don’t know if something broke or maybe it was being forced to watch my fellow guards get caught and wrapped up in those cocoons while I stood by. I washed out a week later. Don’t stand out. Don’t rock the boat, my father said.” He sputtered his frustration. “A whole lot of good that did for me.”
“Well, look at this as a chance to start over, then,” Nail said. “You're miles away from canterlot, getting training from legends of history backed by the word of Princess Celestia and Princess Cadance. And they have the backing of the Lunar Guard and Princess Luna on top of that. We have good food, shelter, equipment, bits. What's there to hate out of that?”
“Getting a letter to call me home?” he asked. But despite the pessimistic comment, Gray Skies couldn’t help but smile, just a little. “Today is a better day,” he admitted. “I’m outside of my room after training and shift, so it’s better than last week.”
“That, and I don’t think your parents would risk insulting House Strike,” Nail pointed out. “Isn’t that just borrowing trouble to try to worry like that?”
“I really don’t know, Nail. My folks are a bit…. I once saw something happen to them, and they reacted one way. The next time it happened, they tried the opposite way. Both times, they got the worst end. How do you get a bearing in life if you don’t know what will set the wrong folks off?”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Skies. Really,” Nail said. “But you know, essentially, you’ve gotta leave the nest, right? We’re going to make mistakes. But if we let that worry keep us from even trying in the first place, how are we supposed to learn? How are we going to fight for our friends in the guard, let alone the civilians here in Ponyville, if we can’t even bring ourselves to try?”
Skies heaved a sigh and drooped his head. “I just feel like I won’t make it,” he admitted. “I mean, right now I can hear my mom saying that I’m just going to make you mad for telling you about this, complaining, showing weakness. Telling me you’re going to leave the room because I said something stupid or annoying or cowardly or hurtful. And then where will I be after? A lone stallion who didn’t know better than to hold it in at the line and heading home a failure because of it. A failure in life, a failure in work, a failure in … well, everything. And then showing that to my parents, proving them right for sticking my neck out….”
Nail walked over and laid a hoof on his friend’s shoulder. “Then I think maybe it’s time you prove them wrong.” He smiled. “I’m not walking out that door without my fellow guard. And even if he’s not here, I’m certainly not leaving without my friend.”
Gray Skies stiffened at the word, then looked up with watering eyes.
Nail didn’t miss a beat. “Come on. Let’s go get a cider tonight. Pretty sure there’s still a stash hidden in the mess hall that’s got our names on it.”
Gray Skies sniffled. “You mean it?”
“About the cider? Who knows? I could be wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time, and I’m still kicking. But about going out with my friend? Definitely not.” He smacked Gray Skies on the back a few times and grinned. “Come on. Drinks are on me tonight.” He winced then. “Well, at least the first one is.”
Gray Skies couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “What was that about not worrying about the future?”
“Hey, a Pony’s still gotta save up a little for the rainy days.”
Both Ponies laughed as they exited the room. Unnoticed to either, a single sunbeam broke through the cloud cover to cast a pane of light through the murk.
Hammer Strike’s coat swished in the breeze as he passed through the stalls in the market. More than a few vendors remembered his generosity from the prior visit. And for some reason, the calls for wares became much more strident as he walked past. Some even went so far as to put on a literal display in the form of acrobatics and other antics in an attempt to gain his attention. Sadly, he hadn’t had much luck as of yet in his search for the rarer materials, but he did find enough high quality ores and crystals to make good use of in his efforts to reforge the armor sets and work on the ear joints he intended to implement.
Strangely enough, it was when passing one of the less assuming stalls that his interest was finally captured. Not by a grand show, nor by the growing mass of Ponies, and certainly not by Ponies begging on their knees. No, what caught his ear, and thus his attention this time, was something much simpler. Somepony said his name.
“It’s been in my family for generations. The sword was forged and owned by Lord Hammer Strike himself. One of my ancestors uncovered it in an old burnt-out ruin when she was trying to take shelter from a thunderstorm. The main structure was destroyed, but there was a hidden substructure she stumbled across with a secret cache. As the story goes, there was a small hoard of gold beaks, a few scrolls and tapestries, some sundry artifacts, and some shards from a stone that they’d never seen the like of before. She used the beaks to begin trade with the Gryphons and help establish the family name and business in that part of the world.” The stall owner stood beneath a cloth canopy with humble shelves behind her. The sword in question stood on display at the topmost shelf next to an intricate mask with radiant white hair and a fierce blue tattoo running down the forehead and onto the bridge of the muzzle. Two red crescent marks spread down toward the cheeks from each eye. Its empty-eyed gaze was at once compelling and intimidating.
“Who’d the house belong to?” one of the Ponies in the crowd asked.
The mare smiled kindly and brushed her white mane back behind an ear. Her fur was a coppery reddish-brown, and a white streak traced down her forehead to the base of her nose. “An old noble family, apparently. Someone named Promethean Flame. They must have died out a long time before, though. We’ve never found any other records about it.”
“How convenient,” another customer sneered.
“My curiosity has been peaked,” Hammer Strike spoke to Dust Bunny.
“Did you want me to clear a way for you, Sir?” Dust Bunny asked.
“No, that’s all right. Let’s take a look at which direction this’ll go.”
“It’s not like I’m trying to sell it. It’s just a good story. And they did ask,” the mare replied to the criticism as she motioned toward a customer who was currently looking over a mask shaped to look like the sun.
“Oh, it’s a great fairy tale,” the pony said. “But little more than that.”
The salespony’s gaze hardened. “My family doesn’t tell tall tales. Nor do they try to disparage another Pony’s reputation simply because they could be some form of competition,” she noted. For the briefest of moments, her eyes seemed almost to flash blue before returning to their normal earthy brown.
The detractor continued unperturbed. “No one can prove that sword is real. No Pony can identify it as a Hammer Strike weapon with 100% accuracy.”
“I’d say there’s at least one who can,” Hammer Strike spoke up as he approached.
“Maybe, but what are the chances they’re going to?”
“Given the fact I’m stopping by, I’d say the chances are pretty good.” Hammer Strike gave a small grin. “Who better to discern the blade’s authenticity than the one who made it?”
The mare stared at the Pony in a mixture that was equal parts bewilderment and skepticism. The detractor was most definitely on the skeptical side with just a dash of condescension.
“A fair response.” He shrugged. “And rather than spend my time trying to convince you through talking, how about I show off another example of an original?” He reached to the greatsword on his back and unsheathed it before flipping it and placing the tip of it into the ground beneath him. “Given the greatswords I make are rare, you’ll be hard pressed to call this one a fake.”
The neighsayer wisely chose to shut his mouth at that.
“Are you … Hammer Strike’s descendant?” the mare asked as the crowd cleared the way to make room.
Hammer Strike blinked a few times. “That’s a first,” he remarked, sheathing the greatsword. “But, not quite. I am Hammer Strike.” He sighed. “Given the amount of potential disbelief, Celestia and Luna deemed it necessary to provide me with their own confirmations.” Then he pulled the scroll out of his coat.
“Try to gainsay the seals of the princesses if you dare,” Dust Bunny said in an icy tone. “We can easily call some guards to verify it if you wish.”
“Uh, that won’t be necessary,” the detractor said. This time, sweat had begun to bead his brow. “I just remembered an appointment I need to get to. Goodbye!” Moments later, the Pony was galloping at full speed to get away from the stall and the noble who had suddenly graced them with his presence.
The mare looked intently at the stallion, his sword, then up at the shelf where her own sword lay. “You … really can tell if…?” she left it hanging.
“I certainly can.” His warm grin returned. “Would you mind?” He gestured towards the blade, even as the crowd collectively took a breath and huddled closer toward the mare’s stall.
“Let’s … do it behind the counter. I think there won’t be enough space if we try on your side.”
Hammer Strike nodded as he entered the stall properly. Strangely enough, it felt surprisingly roomy. Despite the time of year, the canvas still carried the scents of desert sand and summer sun. The dust of the road had embedded itself into the space, seeming almost to charge it with an energy all its own. The mare grabbed a stool and laid it before the shelves, then stood up on it on her hind legs to reach for the ornament.
Hammer Strike drew near her as she reached toward it. “By the way, what’s your name?”
The mare seized the sword and began to pull it down. “Epon-aaahhh!” The sword hilt knocked against the mask, and it toppled to the ground, stand and all. The mask fell perfectly over Hammer Strike’s face, since the stallion was looking up. The stand was caught in his hooves. “I’m so sorry!” Epona cried as she jumped off the stool. “Are you all right?”
Hammer Strike chuckled as he placed the stand down nearby and took hold of the mask. “I’m quite all right; no worries.” Upon removing the mask, he looked it over briefly before adding it to the stand and offering it back to the mare. “A pleasure to meet you, Epona.”
Epona swallowed heavily. “Thank you. I’ve sold to a lot of people before, but I have to admit that dealing with nobles is a new experience,” she replied nervously as she placed both stand and mask on a crate to the side.
Hammer Strike smirked. “I’m sure you’ll find I don’t act much like a noble in the first place.”
“A noble who doesn’t act like a noble? That’s either extremely bad or incredibly refreshing. I’m going to guess the latter, since the Ponies here don’t seem to be as scared of you,” she said as she handed him the sword. “Here it is.”
Hammer Strike took the sword and unsheathed it. There was no decoration, nothing gilded, no engravings apart from one singular mark. His own symbol stood proudly on the blade, a little worn in from use, but without a doubt his own. Turning the blade, he studied its edge, noting that, while old, it still held its form well, and was easily still capable of service.
Nothing fancy, and made for combat.
“This was definitely made by me,” he finally confirmed. “The age is there, and it’s seen use, but it’s just as I would know it.”
“Then it should probably go back to its owner,” Epona said. “I mean, it was yours once, right?”
“It was,” he agreed. “And it should.” He sheathed the blade. After a second, he held it out for her.
Epona stared at the sword, then at Hammer Strike, then the sword again. “I … don’t think I understand. Are you … giving this to me?”
“It already found a new owner; one I think I can accept.” Hammer Strike gave a soft smile. “Even if you aren’t going to use it, care for it well.”
“My family always has.” She nodded in a mixture of humility and gratitude as she took the sword and sheath back. “And we always will so long as we have it.”
“I’m sure you will.” He eyed the crowd briefly. “If there’re no other issues, I think I’ll have a look around, see what you have.”
“Of course.” Epona beamed. “Help yourself. I’ll tell you about whatever you want to know. Well, as much as I can, anyway. I don’t know everything.”
Some of the crowd drew closer to spectate. Others peeled off to search at other stalls, seeing that there would be no chance to reach Epona at the moment. Some few bolted with all the speed their hooves and wings could carry them. Dust Bunny eyed them carefully with narrowed gaze.
Hammer Strike glanced across the shelves, finding a number of general goods and strange and unique objects. It wasn’t until a flash of blue caught his eye that he finally spoke up again. “Is that … an ocarina?”
While Hammer Strike dealt with his shopping at the stalls, Taze had since switched back to Grif in order to reach areas more quickly. As he was gliding across the stands looking for certain ponies on his list, he couldn’t help but stop as his ears picked up an interesting sales pitch.
“This is an extraordinarily rare piece, the ebony claw worn by none other than Grif, Son of Graf in the battle for the Crystal Empire,” a blue Earth Pony stallion told his currently starry-eyed audience as he held his hooves over a glass case. Contained within was a gauntlet made of a black metal. The ends of each of the four fingers were tipped with a razor sharp tip, and the whole thing was lined with gold. A large ruby was mounted on the back of the hand portion of the gauntlet. Grif lifted his eyebrow as he landed just behind the crowd. “It’s said that in all the gryphon kingdoms, there is not a more feared instrument of war than this gauntlet.”
“How do you know it’s his?” Grif asked from the back of the crowd.
“Grif was known for his talons. They were larger than most Gryphons,” the pony explained. Indeed, the claw was rather large, but Grif looked at his talons with a raised brow. They didn’t seem that large. As a human, his hands were thin. His fingers were just long. And honestly, they didn’t seem that big right now.
“Seems a bit … gaudy for a simple gryphon,” Grif said again, having altered his voice slightly.
“Well, those are stories spread by the historians of the Crystal Empire to amplify his strengths and minimize his weaknesses,” the salespony said to keep up his pitch.
“Actually, no.” Grif sighed and shook his head, walking to the front of the group. “Honestly, I wouldn’t wear that thing if my life depended on it. And even if I did want to, I couldn't.” The Gryphon held out his talons to compare.
The merchant blinked and shook his head. “Well, of course not. The Legendary Grif was the biggest Gryphon around. No Gryphon before or since has been as big. Though it is admirable that you are trying to live up to the only Gryphon to side with Equestria during one of the many wars in the past.”
Grif raised an eyebrow as he unsheathed one of the blades from his back. “Grif carried unique blades in combat, didn’t he?” he asked, unsheathing the other blade. “Designed by Lord Hammer Strike. Depictions showed them to be smaller and thinner. Each had only one equal in the world, and that was its twin. Please, take a look.” He held the blade out. “Forged by the hoof of Lord Hammer Strike during his three day sprint in the fires of the formerly missing Crystal Empire and tempered in the blood of those that followed Sombra.”
The audience was silent, and the merchant’s eyes widened as he noted the tiny mark near the base of the swords Grif presented. He managed to remain calm enough not to let the trembling show, despite how his face began to pale. Instead, he offered a nervous smile to the crowd. “It … appears that even a humble merchant, such as myself can,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably, “be hoodwinked. I apologize for the inconvenience. To all present, and only till you leave, I would like to offer a one-time discount of ten percent for anything bought. Except for the gauntlet, of course. Naturally, I’ll be turning that in to the authorities as a forgery.” Sweat ran down his face as he looked at the bleak-faced Gryphon.
“Be sure you do that.” Grif re-sheathed the blades with a little more flair than necessary. “And I don’t want to hear any more stories about being ‘bigger than any other Gryphon’ or ‘having a weakness for the finer things.’ You got that?” He stared at the merchant with his raptor eyes.
“O-of course,” the merchant stammered. “Naturally, it’s not every day one gets to meet a legend. You have my thanks for showing the truth.” He winced. “Though my coin pouch may not be so grateful,” he muttered.
“I’d recommend you get that thing checked after you turn it in,” Grif added. If this Pony wanted to play that game, he deserved what was coming. “For all you know, it could be laced with dark magic. It certainly has a dark look. I wouldn’t hand it over to a friend, let alone sell it, without getting it checked first,” he noted, adding a dramatic pause that was partly for effect and partly out of respect for the innocent Ponies he had to kill to protect the rest. “I’ve seen what dark magic can do to Ponies.”
The crowd at the stall drew back en masse, leaving a now trembling stall owner to eye the thing warily, even as his teeth clenched and his eye twitched. “That is … certainly sound advice. Would … someone mind calling for the Guard?” He grimaced as he looked to Grif, schooling his face as best he could manage. “And would you be willing to stay so they don’t arrest me in the event your suspicions prove to be correct? I’m a loyal citizen of the kingdom, after all. I wouldn’t want anything to do with dark magic.”
“I’ll stay,” Grif said brusquely. “If only to get this mystery solved. Whatever this is, it looks like it was made for a Gryphon’s talons at least. What else it was made for, we will see.”
The stall owner gulped and chuckled in a mixture of nerves and defeat. “Yes, … I suppose we will.”
The afternoon air was cool and brisk as Pensword and Moonshade both strode together into the market. “You’re sure you got enough sleep?” Pensword asked again for what had to have been the fifth time.
“I’m fine.” She shook her head. “You’re worrying too much.”
“That tends to happen when you have to take care of three young royal heirs and keep them safe from an evil threat.” Something shiny caught his eye, and a squeal escaped him as the glint of a model train engine complete with magical steam power drew his attention. “Do you think it has a functional whistle?” he asked as he gesticulated excitedly with a wing.
“What?” Moonshade asked, confused by his reaction.
“The train, Moonshade, the train!” He almost yanked her toward the stall in his excitement, which was no easy feat to most other Ponies that might try.
“What is it with you and trains?” she asked as they headed for the stand. “Those are for foals.”
“I can sum it up for you in one word, Moonshade. History. Steam power was one of the first forms of power successfully generated by humans. The marvels of engineering that went into its creation, the clarion call of its whistle, the power and blood and sweat that went into moving something so titanically heavy and keep feeding it constantly. It’s a testament to the struggle of creation and advancement. Surely Thestrals must have some means to relate to that kind of feeling, a sense of awe and respect, as well as pleasure and pride?”
“Well, if it makes you happy….” She shrugged, still confused.
“More than you can begin to imagine,” Pensword said with a grin. “Give me enough time and I can probably teach you everything you could ever need to know about how to run a steam locomotive and repair it if it breaks down. Not to mention all the antiques this place has!” The smile lasted for a good minute before one of his ears twitched. Then he cocked his head. His brow furrowed, and he frowned. “... Is it just me, or did I just hear someone talking about me?” he asked.
“I heard it. I’m surprised you have,” she said. “It’s just someone hawking something connected to you. Likely a scam.”
The frown quickly shifted to a scowl. “In that case, I know where we’re going next. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s someone making a mockery of history. Especially a history I lived.”
It didn’t take them long to find the source. Moonshade’s Thestral ears were very good at guiding them, and a crowd had begun to form with the buzz of the historical figure’s name. A Unicorn with a slicked-back golden mane and a charming smile was busy working the crowd while motioning toward a display case with a transparent lid for easy viewing. The sword inside shone with a rainbow-like patina that shimmered like an oil slick as the light reflected off of it. The steel inside was bright and well preserved, seeming almost as if the crystal had grown around it, rather than forged with it. The hilt was stout and serviceable, designed not for elegance, but efficiency. The pommel jutted in a sharpened spike designed to bash through enemy helms and fracture skulls. In short, it was indeed a warrior’s blade.
“This right here is museum quality. You’ve heard of the weapons wielded by the heroes of ages past, the artifacts they left behind for posterity. This one was lost to time itself. And I have it on very good authority that this is the genuine article forged from ores found only in the Crystal Empire with a form and technique that no modern smith would ever use today or could use back then.” The trader hovered a certificate bearing the hoofprint and signature of a specialist Pensword had never heard of before.
“Who the hay is Glyph Reader?” Pensword asked the mare.
“Likely some sort of important archeologist?” Moonshade shrugged. “Or a purported one.”
“Of all the days for me to be without my armor,” Pensword muttered. Then he sighed. “Ah well. In for a penny, in for a pound. Mind backing me up, Moonshade? You’re a trusted figure here, after all. Everypony knows you better than they do the me from the Crystal Empire. I might need you to vouch for my identity.”
“I’ll back you,” she assured. “It’s part of my duty.”
“Hopefully this can be a little fun, too. Do you have a way to signal some guards to come here for an arrest without alerting anyone? I assume this kind of crime is a little more serious than your typical swindle.”
“I can handle an arrest myself if it’s necessary,” she said. “No reason to make people on edge.”
“I should have expected as much.” He smiled. “In that case, are you ready to take the stage and steal the show?”
“Ready when you are.”
Pensword nodded and took to the air so he could have easier access to the salespony. “Either this authenticator took you for an easy mark or the two of you are working together on a scam. Either way, I would appreciate it if you were to stop this now, sir.”
The Unicorn took a few steps back to better distance himself from the interloper who had swooped so close to him. “Excuse me? And just who do you think you are?” The case quickly levitated behind him as he glared protectively at the Pegasus.
“I’m the Pony whose sword you’re supposedly selling.” A certain amount of satisfaction flowed warmly through his chest as the crowd gasped and began to whisper among themselves. Some were excited, others skeptical, as it always is and will be in such situations. He raised his voice for the rest of the crowd to hear. “As such, this can go one of two ways. Either you can return the property that is, by rights, mine in the first place, or you can stop this now before it gets out of hand and leads to an arrest. Either way, I think I’ll be taking this sword.”
The Unicorn barked a laugh. “You most certainly will not,” he countered. “This is my property. I bought it fair and square, and I authenticated it through the proper legal channels. This sword belongs to the real Pensword. And you, sir, belong in a sanitarium.”
That won a few jeers and laughs out of the crowd. Pensword, however, was not amused. The ringing that followed the insult bore the subtle vibrations of crystal and the dreadful promise of tempered steel as Pensword removed his sword from its scabbard. “Keep this up and you’ll belong in prison,” he said in a dreadfully calm tone of voice. “If you want a sample of Hammer Strike’s work, look no further than this.”
“And where’s your certificate of authentication?”
“I don’t need one. I work for him directly. If necessary, I can make the arrangements for you to meet him personally. I don’t think you’ll like the accommodations, though.”
“And I’m Princess Cadance,” the Unicorn snarked back.
“Do you consider your word to carry more weight than the princesses?” Moonshade asked him seriously as she alighted beside Pensword. Her eyes were piercing, and her armor as intimidating as ever a Lunar Guard’s should be.
“Anyone can claim they speak for the princesses,” the Unicorn scoffed. “And anypony can pretend to be a guard if they have the right connections.”
Lunar fang looked at him, her pupils forming lines as they dilated. “I am Major Moonshade of the Lunar Guard, sir. And I would suggest you get ahold of your tongue before it gets you a night in the lockup.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong here, and I have every right to sell this piece. If you are a Lunar Guard, as you say, then you will allow me to carry on with my business.”
“We would if it were honorable business,” Pensword said pointedly. “But whether you were tricked or not, that sword is not Lord Hammer Strike’s work, and it would be a crime to let it go to market under that assumed provenance. And to be perfectly blunt, sir, a small town like Ponyville is hardly the place to sell something so important, especially for a sum so little as 400 bits. But if you really do want to put it to the test, then I’ll be happy to oblige.” Pensword gestured to his sword. “All Equestria knows the legendary durability and strength of Hammer Strike’s swords. Any weapon forged by him would still be usable today and of higher quality than what a local smith can make. You say your sword is mine, made by Hammer Strike himself for my use. I say the same of my blade that I carry here, the same one that I used in the Crystal Empire to defend the royal bloodline. A simple exchange of blows should do the trick. And if anything, such a test will raise the value of your weapon with another proof should it succeed. Won’t you indulge me and the crowd here? I believe the phrase is ‘put your bits where your mouth is.’”
“It’s over a thousand years old!” the Unicorn balked.
“And collectors have pieces that are older than that and still in perfectly usable condition,” Pensword countered. “Please, take out the sword. It’s either test it here and now or take it with us to be tested in your sight by professionals. We happen to have the very best smiths the kingdom has to offer at the moment stationed here in town.”
The salespony grit his teeth and bit at the growl rising from his throat. “Very well,” he finally replied as the case opened and the sword hovered in the air.
“Major Moonshade.” Pensword gestured toward the sword. “If you would?”
She grabbed the sword and held it in a ready stance as the glow of magic faded from it. At the same time, the Unicorn smirked cockily.
“Do your worst,” he sneered.
“Best and worst don’t apply here,” Pensword said as he raised his sword. “Only the skill of the craftsman.”
With practiced motion, both Ponies got into their ready stances. Then each nodded to the other and slashed. The air rang with a bell-like tone at the first strike, and the rainbow flashed from the Unicorn’s blade. A second blow left the flash duller, the tone less true. The third left a cracking sound. No flash emanated this time. On the fourth strike, the Unicorn winced in pain as crystal shattered and the clatter of metal bouncing and skittering over solid earth followed. Both Ponies returned to a resting stance. Pensword’s blade didn’t bear so much as a nick, scuff, or scratch. The same could not be said for the remnants of the blade in Moonshade’s grip.
“Like I said,” Pensword returned quietly to the smarting Unicorn. “That sword is a fake. This is the genuine article.” Then he sighed. “Moonshade, was that enough to take him in?”
“Fairly certain they can make a case of that, yes.” She nodded.
“Now … now hold on a minute. Let’s not be hasty,” the Unicorn said uneasily. The allusion to arrest had miraculously healed him of his headache.
“If you come quietly, this doesn’t have to get any worse,” Pensword said. “Resist or try to run, and we’ll show you just what the Lunar Guard and a direct servant to Lord Hammer Strike are capable of.”
This Pony was a little smarter than the average charlatan who’d been found out. Or maybe he’d just been found out before and knew better than to let shock or surprise hinder him. A blinding flash emanated from his horn to flood over the area, causing the crowd, Pensword, and Moonshade to be temporarily blinded.
The huckster bolted for all his legs were worth. However, his main path of escape led him right by where moonshade was standing. It was the only available avenue with such a tightly packed crowd. He didn’t notice the Thestral’s ears twitch, nor the speed with which she extended her foreleg. In the space of a breath, a heavy hoof backed with muscle tempered by years and years of constant training slammed into the Unicorn’s chest, rearing the Pony up with the backlash before adding to the momentum to bring him crashing hard to the ground. Her second hoof followed fast as lightning to thwack the base of the offender’s horn repeatedly with non-damaging force to prevent spell casting. “Gaurd!” she barked as she waited for her sight to return.
A combination of Lunar and Solar guards were soon on the scene. A dampening ring was quickly applied, sliding down the Unicorn’s horn to cut off any further chance of utilizing that member as anything other than a stabbing instrument. Then, flanked on all sides, the Unicorn was escorted off the premises and toward the brig that had been constructed as part of the military fort.
“Are you all right, Major?” one of the troops asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Moonshade said as she blinked and waited for the spots to finish clearing. “He tried to blind us. Check the crowd. Make sure everyone’s all right.”
No sooner had the words left her lips than it was done. Other than some surprise at the attack, it appeared no lasting damage had been done.
“Well, that was certainly an adventure,” Pensword said.
“Yup.” She smirked. “You okay?”
“I will be.” He shook his head. “Remind me to talk with Hammer Strike about preventative measures for attacks like that. No pun intended here, but that could be a serious blindspot down the road if we’re not careful.”
“That does seem wise.” She nodded. “Just a good thing I could hear him.”
“Think you can teach me that trick?”
“It requires super hearing.” She laughed. “Maybe some other time.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Moonshade smiled. “Good.”
“So yeah, I doubt he was expecting to be called out, but on the same note, this is kinda freaky. I figured best to bring it here,” Grif told the guard as he waited to see Hammer Strike.
The guard raised a skeptical brow. “Wouldn’t you know better about Gryphon armor than he would?”
“This isn’t like anything I know.” Grif shrugged. “We don’t generally use gauntlets. It makes it hard to use our talons effectively.”
“So you think it might’ve been somepony trying to replicate Gryphon talons? Maybe something that could be used in an assassination attempt to mask a real culprit? Not now, but sometime back when it was first made?”
“Something like that, yeah.” Grif nodded. “I mean, it looks like it’d fit a Gryphon, but it doesn’t seem very articulate, right?”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You should. He has a good idea of what I’m capable of.” A slight start passed through the guard at Hammer Strike’s sudden arrival. “Though he does have a habit of exaggerating.”
“Yes, well, you need to have a look at this.” Grif produced the gauntlet. “It’s … gaudy as all hell, but something's weird about it.”
“Let’s take a look, then. And I’ll need those sunglasses again for this.”
Hammer Strike took hold of the gauntlet, and Grif handed over the eye wear.
As before, the glasses proceeded to glow as Hammer Strike put them on. He said nothing as he scanned over the gauntlet left and right.
“Pardon me, Sir. Is that … magic?” the guard asked as he stared at the glowing lenses.
“It’s an artifact,” Grif said quickly. “Specialized for appraisal and keyed to Lord Hammer Strike specifically. I was carrying it for security reasons.”
“Oh.” The guard nodded and returned his focus to the appraisal. “That makes more sense.”
“Huh, it’s…” Hammer Strike hummed and tilted the gauntlet, continuing to look over it as his brows furrowed. “Just a gauntlet, though quite intricate. More so than you’re able to see,” he finished as the glow faded and he looked up to the two.
“You mean it has … tiny pieces?” Grif asked.
“Quite a lot of them.” Hammer Strike handed the item back to him. “You can keep this one for now. I wouldn’t recommend it be used in combat, though. It’s too old to function properly.”
Grif nodded as he stowed the gauntlet again. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
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Priceless ending! I can't wait to see what happens next. I wanna see the next time travel journey...
I have a pretty good feeling that Lunar Fang is actually Moonshade in another name, and another feeling that those three (plus moonshade) will have another time travel adventure.
5008622
I agree, that was a lot of fun to write that ending, and in a way, completely in my opinion as a writer, does a one eighty of what you would expect should happen in a situation like that.
As for the next time travel journey? Well if we do have one again... you will have to wait, keep reading and keep piecing together the puzzle I would say. I think you will enjoy the coming adventure.
5012038
Ah, another prediction, wonderful, it seems that you and Dream are both of the same opinion, please be patient as I do not want to give anything away, and for your last part... who knows? only we three know what is to come next.
((Seriously, we have a buffer written))
Still, to both of you, thank you for your comments, keep reading and keep those thoughts and opinions rolling in. I think you are going to enjoy the coming couple chapters. That is really all I want to, and feel comfortable on saying... just keep your eyes peeled and those gears turning in your heads.
5012090 Well you can't blame me, I want those two to be ship! And apparently so does Taze and Luna as well!
5012099
I shall not blame you on what you want. In fact I am happy to hear your compliment. While I cannot say much more then that on the subject matter, just keep your eyes peeled and I am sure you are going to enjoy some of the upcoming scenes in the coming weeks, and month.
Just as a heads up we are currently working on chapter 32 at the moment. Work has eaten into our little buffer, and so that is a rather good thing having the buffer.
Still, I hope you enjoy the coming events.
5012121 I'm so excited!
4489459
Well, I hope you enjoyed their introduction to Ponyville. I am sorry that I have not responded to your comments before. Still, as it has been a little bit of time, I was wondering if you enjoyed the travel to Ponyville and the antics taken there in so far.
5015017
Hahah, thanks for mentioning that, it will be changed soon.
a pony obsesed with griffin silver wear? that must be Slasher!Rarity.
Whilst it has been a long time since I've had it be relevant, Minuette and Colgate are technically different ponies. One has an extra mane stripe that nobody ever talks about. Can't remember which however.
Oh the irony of a re-read.