#OiE: Breaking the Bank

>Citadel Doctor Heartbeat

>>26337461

>Eyebrows inquisitively raising at your inspection, the mare flicks her ears in silent amusement, the right side of her muzzle pulling back in clinical exasperation.
"You.. barely answered my question. Not like other humans, are you."
>Releasing a quiet, mock indignant exhale, the Citadel Doctor silently leans forwards, her chest pressing against the medical bed with a a wide, demure and dubious smile.
"I questioned Oranti thoroughly as to what occurred in the Atrium, and despite my best efforts to understand what seems to be some form of conditioning, you seem to be much more private and suspicious than the two whom came here before.. not that I am surprised, merely cautious, after all, I must ensure the Citadel's operations function as smoothly as possible."
>Eyeing the heap of mushrooms, flatfish, and several small token shrimp on the wooden serving plate with a morbid nose twitch, Heartbeat's eyes roll up to you, nose twitching in morbid fascination.
"The wonders of biology and culture, perhaps. Perchance you would tell me, are humans omnivorous? Rumors abound and conflict quite often on Tallus you see, and it would be much more helpful if I were to know the standard human diet in order to assign proper medical treatments.. within reason, of course."

>Post #1/2: Shanis & Roust

>>26346278

>Giving her best hopeless shrug, the Vanguard's blue eyes orient on the Mercenary Queen blatantly keeping her own accord, the Changeling's tone contemplative.
>'You have likely seen reactions similar to hers before, specifically from Naliyna, Twisted Wing, Doctor Tipper, and Mercy. It is a form of self-preservation against unknown factors, but mostly embarrassment since she is asking a deeply personal favor from mares that are unaligned with her. While most of us consider her a good friend, Shanis shows her emotions very easily, which makes me think she is not used to close interaction.'
>Gazing at the old world scenes above, Roust's four insectoid wings flick several times in irritation.
>'I think I was a builder. There are many memories, vague as they are, of constructing domes and carving planting bowls out. I will ask my Queen when we return if that is what I had done.'
>Sparing another glance at the pieces taking up the dome's center, Shanis points a serrated blade at the top of the stack, angling it down and apparently trying to count them.. which wasn't going well for her.
"..I'm not even sure here. Roust, help me out will you?"
>'Of course they are, and yes, there are approximately eight hundred resonances here. I do not understand why, but Changeling chitin is able to survive for millenia, similar to insect chitin, without degrading much. Spiral once stated our psionic makeup is able to preserve them even more so than normal, which is why I requested him to produce your armor from my sheds. Also, our armor is much more comfortable than most other materials!'
"Innnnteresting info. I'll take your word on it, but I still don't feel right being here."

>Post #2/2: Shanis & Roust

>>26346278

>Slowly swiveling her head back in a manner that seemed to be questioning her sanity, the winter suited pegasus purses her lips tightly, keeping her voice neutral through a very disturbed mental question directed at you.
"I.. uh, I don't.. have enough experience with psions to understand this imprint business, but I have been told by numerous sources that they're basically 'stains' on reality. Most are benign, some are just echoes of the past, or something like that, but others can be trouble. I'm not good with anything I can't touch, so let me know if I need to get out of here."
>"Does this mean you're WEARING parts of her? I'm all for fun fetishes but that's kind of weird to be honest.. ..I'm just gonna go check out what this stuff on the racks is."
[1d6+2] <E.Weakened Scouting
[1d6+2]
[1d6+2]

>'Give me a bit to inspect it, though I think it is too faded to tell much.'

>Very much unfinished, the platforms had been hewn from some form of igneous rock that seemed indigenous to the region, not quite granite, yet reasonably tough enough to withstand their use as possible temporary sleeping quarters.
>Scattered across the rough surfaced stone was a large number of old Crystal Kingdom era coins, most of which were copper and bronze, although a scattering of quartz, amethyst, agate, garnet, topaz, and peridot mintings were apparent.
>It seemed strange to you why such normally common semiprecious stones would be used as coins, particularly since silver, gold, and much more valuable gems were readily available in what would eventually become the Empire's lands.

>Studying the odd biotype for some time in deep thought, rubbing a front hoof on her nose for some time, Roust flutters her wings in surprise.
>'Bigger than a Warden, smaller than a Knight? ..I know what this one was, a Baron of the Defender caste, but why does it keep repeating when we are here?'

[1d6] <Event

>Razorback Fortress, Clinic: Everyelk

>>26356187
>Going ramrod stiff straight at hearing the horrified howling coming from an awoken Tipper, all the Druids remained still like deer caught in headlights as the Clinic owner emptied her lungs of oxygen.
>Once crushing awkward silence filled the room did they all snap out of it, Astral Poinsettia being the first to break the silence.
"Um...Tipsy?"
>Swinging her head back and forth to observe the stuffed interior to ascertain her surroundings, the mature Pred-Elk flicked her ears when she copped on to what might be stressing the medic out so much.
"Oh, I see. Humph -Everyelk, listen up."
>Waiting for the procession of ears to swivel in her direction, Astral tapped the edge of her cloven hoof on the clinic floor as she spoke out her plan in a calm demeanor, not wanting to upset her brothers and sisters.
"Dust Leaf, Sand Tempest, and Stone Petal, take the food to the Treehouse and leave them on the heatstones, tell Amber not to eat them then return here. Myself and Snowfall will stay."

>Barking happily at their sisters confidence, the three Pred-Elks took the food and galloped off, Astral however catching the door and keeping it open.
"Snowfall deer, please vacate the delicious aroma of food from the Clinic."
>Confused, the druid shrugged their shoulders before taking in a deep long breath of air.
>With a chest puffed out to hold in such an intake, the elks white muzzle was latched shut as they waited for Astral's order.
"Now."
>Tail wagging at being able to release, Snowfall opens up to blow the stench of cooked meaty food out of the door.
[1d6+3] E.Druidry
[1d6+3]
[1d6+3]
[1d6+10] >Tundra Breath

>Coming back minutes later, the three elks noticed the clinic was a bit chillier and absent of the yummy aroma of meat, though the thought of food disappeared from their minds when they saw Astral and Snowfall sitting at either side of Tipper, giving the old mare a hug.
"Group hug!"
>High trotting over, the three joined in.

>>26362968
>The familiar noise and the rumbling of the ground underfoot brings a grin to the Commando's face. A quick look behind him shows the pleasing results of his work.
>The situation is far from stable, however.
>The two of them are heavily injured and the Greccion requires immediate treatment. A safer location would be optimal, but his condition necessitates action be taken with minimal delay.

>The spear will need to be removed, but doing so immediately will likely result in excess blood loss. Priority goes to the wounds on his back. Fractures, burns, and heavy bleeding.
>He doubts that those small devices, whatever they are, can deal with it.
>He, however, has something that can.
>He opens the suit's systems on his datapad and disconnects his pack, lifting it free of his back.
>With the internal Bacta system disengaged, the pain in his chest slowly begins to resurface, but he ignores it as much as he can.

>Placing the pack on the ground next to the Greccion, he delves into a section that is rarely accessed, carefully drawing out a tube filled with an unmistakable clear liquid.
>That is another concern - it, too, is in limited supply. This tank will last for quite some time, but it won't last forever.
>It is not, however, a concern to worry about now.
>What is a concern is the state of the operation. Both of them have taken heavy damage, but have managed to kill what is likely an important enemy unit.
>Prolonging their time behind enemy lines poses a serious risk, one that is now all the more deadly. He would hate to fail to complete an objective, but it seems sensible to return to base and target the enemy's supplies another time.
>They have still achieved something, and the loss of that thing alone could be a blow to the enemy in itself. It will be best to cut their losses and pull back.
1/2

>>26520560
>With the tank now disconnected from the system, he opens one end. This is certainly not how these specific canisters were intended to be used. It is fortunate that the ends can be removed for restocking purposes, facilitating this improvised application.
>That, and the fact that Bacta can be effectively applied in such a manner at all is lucky. It would pale in comparison to the direct injection system his suit utilises, of course.
"Sit still, aruetii. This is going to hurt."
>Although he does not have experience in using Bacta on an open wound, it is a reasonable enough assumption that, despite its healing capabilities, it will sting on contact. And hard.
>He pours out a small amount of Bacta into the wound, focusing first on the bleeding, applying some Bacta to the burns last.

>He does not expect much in the way of a response, but he attempts to make some conversation with the Greccion. An attempt to keep him mentally active may prevent him from losing consciousness.
>The battle was hard-fought, and would have been fun if not for the battering the two received. With that detail in mind, a less stirring topic may be suitable, one that would be easier to talk about.
"You mentioned family, aruetii, tell me about them."
2/2

>Rune City

>In a dim office on the second floor did a pony whom let themselves in find a mare, muzzle scrunched on her table asleep.
>Tsking, the other mare jostled the sleepy pone awake with sharp hoof jabs until a disgruntled mewl escaped the unicorns mouth.
>After some chitchat in the office' minibar with hot Pink Lace coffee to wake the unicorn up, did a particular topic of importance come into focus.
"So?"
>Said the earth mare, whom was slowly chewing a stocked biscuit, savoring the flavor with skeptical eyes honed squarely on the now fidgeting unicorn.
"Sooo?"
"Yes, so now?"
"Now what?"
>Swallowing the morsel, the larger pony clacked her hoof down on the polished wooden surface of the bar, marking the panel with a vague imprint.
"Just -just don't start with me, you lost the bet, -you- have to organize the concert. Now tell me who the band is and I'll place the posters throughout the day."
"..."
"..."
>Silence was all that came, with the unicorn growing more uncomfortable while the earth mare grew angrier.
"...You forgot didn't you."
"W-what no-"
"-You. FUCKING. Forgot."
>Backed into a verbal corner, the horned pony retorted back with equal force to get some breathing room in the discussion.
"NO! I didn't forget! I just spaced out because your voice is soooOOOooo boring."
>Breathing through her nostrils for a moment, the guest mare leaned back, content to let herself simmer.
"Is that right, huh? Then who is this years band?"
>Glancing to quick for the other pony to notice, the unicorn coughed to stall for time as her horn was enveloped in a soft glow.
"Its not a conventional band per se, in fact they're kinda 'otherworldly'."
>Narrowed eyes widening in surprise as the "Rune Boon" Newspaper floated in front of her, the aggravated expression loosened into a jawdrop as she looked at the main subject of the papers presented.
"Hoomons?!"
>...

>Isiet, Rogue Elite Matron

>Peering around the door from her trashed personal office to listen in on a report of damage, the white and blue cloud-cloak covered pegasus nods, closing it with an agitated tail flick.
>Turning about to eye the smashed heartwood desk with great sadness, Isiet gives a small sigh, then turns towards the suited Mr. Agent, staring downwards for a minute before speaking.
"I'm sorry for keeping you trapped in the Undercity for so long, but I couldn't afford to.. to take any chances, not with Razorback being our allies."
>Tiredly motioning with her left wing towards the rear of her office, the new Matron trods off to the north side, collapsing facefirst onto a pile of soft cloud material.
"You can-"
>Managing to, barely, roll onto her left side without a grunt, the mare's eyes shut, speaking with a muffled, exhausted tone.
"Leave when you would like. I know you have unfinished business with Lace, and a few others, though it's going to be at least six months until Las Pegasus is rebuilt and stable enough for non-essential businesses to return."

>Mr.Agent

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pMKYFKpJyM4

>>26520938
>Lighting his fag, he took a puff as the new Matron talked, and she had flopped onto some comfy lookin' clouds did he then talk, his voice more gravel than ever.
>Stress and cancersticks will do that to you...
"Don' swea'tit, you didn' want more blood stainin' the clouds already."
>Taking the cig out of his mouth and placing it in the nook of his ear, the Operator slightly limped on over to the exit, attaché case clasped tightly in his hand.
"Listen, tanks for all the help an' more Isiet, mean it. Ya can count on me to repay you, know wadda mean? Anyways, I'll be informin' the boys back in base whats been happenin'."
>Opening the door fully to leave, he stopped midway through to give Isiet a genuine crooked smile with a wink half hidden behind his cracked shades.
"An' I'll be damned if I ain't gonna repair the relations between Las Pegasis an' Razorback! Remember, ya got my business card after all."
>With a final nod he closed the office door behind himself before strutting to the Translocation Stone and back to Razorback, body and mind burdened by healed wounds and crucial information.

[1d6]

>>26521096
Another one!
[1d6]

>>26521096
>>26521101
fuck my mouth

>Order Territory, The Butchers Den: The Greccion

>>26520560
>>26520565

>As you applied the the Bacta to the Greccions wounded back, the muscles under his duel coat shivered in response to the sting of the chemicals.
>You could see the applied Bacta was working well on the exposed flesh of your leaders back, he hissing in vague pain as the injury stopped weeping blood. 56/120HP SHOCKED!

>Wheezing through a tight beak, the wingless Gryphon opened his eyes to see a greyed out blurry world, the voice he could hear muffled under his heartbeat.
"Where...we, where Mino..taur?"
>Forelegs twitching, he tried to move but pain anchored him back down.
"Both healthy...safe too..if -if do mission. Must complete...Mission."

>>26521573
3XP awarded to Thunder-Raven.

>Eventually, the shouting stopped.
>And eventually, the ringing in Collins' ears stopped too, after about five minutes.
>He removed his hands from both sides of his head, confident he hadn't gone completely deaf.

"Thanks. For a moment, I'd forgotten who the children were."

>And that really wasn't directed at Kalatrine and Thansimum.
>No matter how much Collins was glaring at the two of them.
>He thought about directing something at Twisted, too.
>Something along the lines of how she was being over the batpony filly.
>Casual flippancy really didn't seem ideal for not knowing where exactly a young child was.
>Especially one who'd only just been rescued from slavery.
>And where exactly where Jeff and Belltower, anyway?
>That made Collins worry. One part in child safety, the other in the frightening lack of communication between people at the fortress.
>Maybe that was as much his problem as everyone else's.
>But that could wait for another day. Right now, Collins just wanted this one to end.
>Casting a slightly sideways glance at the cat-booted pegasus, the mercenary looked back at the counter, towards Alys and Caliya.

"Make mine a double. And the same for her. With a saucer of milk."

>He sighed heavily.
>She'd fit right in. There were always vacancies at the madhouse, after all.

>>26521573
>The sight of the Bacta working on the wound captures the Clone's attention. He had no doubts of Bacta's potency, of course, but a chance to see the more intricate effects of it is interesting.
>The bleeding has stopped. The Bacta should be able to go some way towards healing the wound.
>For the time being, however, he cannot wait around.
>He quickly retrieves his rifle, and returns the canister to its place inside the pack, reconnecting the tank and sealing the compartment before finally mounting it on his back and restarting the systems.
>In mere moments, the stinging in his chest is washed away once again.

>The Greccion is still conscious. Still wanting to continue, as well.
"Still behind enemy lines."
>"Minotaur"? Not a name he's ever heard before, although that much is to be expected. Shouldn't be hard to forget when it comes to making a record later.
>He quickly glances back at what is left of a corpse and captures an image of the sight to add to the record later.
"It's dead. Very dead."
>"All over the clearing in pieces" is what he would have liked to say, but he can't afford to be as relatively relaxed as he usually is.

>The Greccion tries to move, to no avail. Putting physical stress on himself is not going to help the situation. The Commando takes him onto his shoulders as he did before, taking care to avoid contact with the spear and causing any further damage.
>Admirable resolve, but being too ambitious has its drawbacks, too.
"We're both nearly dead and there's still plenty of ground between us and our target - carrying on is probably going to get us killed. If we pull back, we can recover and target their supplies another time."
>He has a feeling that he's going to insist on pushing forward, so before he has a chance to respond, he changes the topic back, trying to make sure he stays awake.
"I've told you a little about mine, tell me more about yours, aruetii."

>Order Territory, The Butchers Den: The Greccion

>>26523092
>Gasping for air as he was lifted up, you felt his claw barely cling onto the edge of your shoulder armour before it slipped back down.
"That..good."
>You didn't know which one of your statements that was directed to, but even with his heaving wounds taking their toll on his body, you could hear a faint gratification under that grating voice.

>Hindlegs wobbling as he stood supported, the Greccion let his beaked head hang low as he returned to taxed mutters.
"Dying sound...good plan. Both females, both...healthy...both persecuted..B -but innocent."

>>26523950
>The tone of the Greccion's voice suggests that the Bacta is already getting to work.
>Thankfully, he seems to agree with the Commando, allowing him to focus on getting out of the area.
>As much as he might seem otherwise, he isn't very interested in the Greccion's family, only using it as a way to keep him conscious while the two leave the clearing and head for thicker concealment.
"Persecuted? What for?"

>Order Territory, The Butchers Den: The Greccion

>>26525072
>Instead of walking down the decline along the river, you instead go through the forest accompanying forest, in there you got solid footing without fear of slipping and causing more injury.
>The flora was thankfully not that thick to cause a hassle with the harpoon still lodged in the Greccions shoulder, whom right now appeared to grow more delirious.
"Me...I am c -criminal...Do this for senpai -ily..Die for Kingdoms...or let family...be harmed..."

>>26356470
>Eric listened closely, eyes flicking about her form as she moved and spoke, hands clasping in his lap.
>Surely, even if he was fully drugged-up, there would be some semblance of human movements and emotions in this trip.
>His head tilts slightly as he listens, eyes still flicking over her form.
>He waits until she was finished explaining, internalizing the entire story as falsehood.
>Looking down into the hands in his lap, staring into them for a moment.
>He mimics the mare's Inhale/Exhale, then lifts his head to look her in the eye.
“Well...”
>He cracks a forced awkward grin.
“I've heard cocaine's a hell of a drug, but grenades? This is nuts.”
>He reaches up with his left hand to scratch at his jaw.
“Tell me, uhh... Tipper? How likely is it that I'm having a near-death hallucination right now?”

>>26525834
>The fight does not seem to have drawn too much attention. Perhaps either nobody was close enough to hear, or they assumed that the "Minotaur" was victorious and thus chose not to investigate.
>How stupid of them.
>The Commando heads back where they entered the area from, staying among the plants as much as possible.
>The Greccion seems to be drifting closer to losing consciousness. He isn't bleeding any more, and he is relatively stable. That occurring should be safe.

>He details some circumstances that the Clone doesn't think about too much.
>The most he assumes is that he has been brought into service as punishment, and that doing so prevents his family from being punished as some sort of an agreement.
>He says he's doing it for something or someone - there was a word that definitely wasn't Basic, but it didn't quite sound like the other languages he's heard.
>In any case, at appears that this service is expected to end in his demise.
>Not unlike the rank and file of the Clone Army. The Commandos, of course, are intended to last a while longer.
"Reminds me of someone."

>it's back
My body is ready for maximum lurking.

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>>26520146

>Pareidolia examines the plate of food, taking an experimental bite of a mushroom as Heartbeat remarks on his demeanor.
>As she leans against the bed, he turns his head to regard her with slightly narrowed eyes, swallowing before responding.

>Suspicious?
>...
>It must seem that way to ponies who know little of human culture.

"I have every reason to not be open with disclosing information out of a sense of responsibility, not distrust."

>He looks back to the plate, pinching one of the shrimp tails and eyeing it for a moment before eating it

"Humans are biologically omnivorous."

>From what I've heard, misinformation has accumulated as humans continue to operate unchecked
>Time would be the most useful resource, greater than even Command's equipment right now.

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I had a chuckle doing this one.

>>26346284

>Walking out the Armory into the cold night air, you're confronted with.. absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.
>A rather suspicious nothing at that since there was hardly any movement on the walls.

>Wandering around into the courtyard in a random direction, you manage to flag down several of the black and purple armored ponies on erratic patrol routes during the meandering.
>Although each gave you conflicting reports of where the well-known pegasus had wandered to, it seemed as if she may have exited the Fortress through the pagoda.

>Isiet, Rogue Elite Matron

>>26521096

>Painfully rolling her head in the opposite direction, just enough to open an eye towards you, the mare lifts a bitten ear up, letting it down with a stilted mutter.
"With as many lives have been lost, it wouldn't have mattered, the entire plain under us is bright red."
>Returning a small, coarse snort with a click of her teeth at you, Isiet sneers down into the puffy cloud material, visibly and emotionally drained.
"Keh, don't bother, we're done with Equestria. I'll be moving Las Pegasus as soon as critical repairs are done... probably going to creep our way towards Saddle Arabia, weather's always warm there. Stay safe, if that's even possible now."

>Paying less than zero percent attention to you, the still unending lines of battered and still injured pegasi waiting to be seen by even more stressed unicorns, a few of the ever suspicious earth pony druids from the Everfree stare as you pass by, nostrils flaring as they continue their examinations.
>Having taken your very simple suggestion (with the proper finder's fee, of course!) to place signs pointing out each area of the Undercity long ago, it was relatively easy to find the newly installed translocation matrice in the southern passageway's end.
>Surrounded by a quartet of hostile, aggressively blood red armored pegasi, the small squad of Shanis' elites temporarily on interdiction duty, you're given little more than a second of examination before being quickly waved on, the apparent youngest rasping out an order to send you immediately to Razorback.

>Popping into the rarely seen pagoda without so much as a delay of time, it seemed some enterprising individuals had retrofitted the outdoor structure to be much more cozy, and there was even a brand new map of the Fortress posted on the north exit.

>>26522873

>Keeping a contemptful scowl on the 'surviving' Kingdom adherents, long enough for the silence between the three to become much more antagonizing than you'd have thought possible, Twisted turns her head in your direction.
>Silent for a few seconds, a wingblade rotates out from under it's protective feather, pointing towards the Crystal mares in a threatening motion as she speaks, her undertone heavy and cold.
"Whatever conflicts you two have better not rise up again, this is not the time and it ain't the place to have schoolyard squabbles. Now, if I can make a suggestion that won't insult your intelligences, I SUGGEST that you help us with this situation in all due haste because it is very quickly chewing the morale of everypony here to pieces. Is this understood?"
>Pursing her lips tightly at the responding nods, worn creases of subdued anger crinkle her eyes for a moment.
"Good, now play nice and go with them."
>Glancing towards Malyne leading the other fillies and colt out rather bouncily, the Burning Pegasus turns about, stomping towards the minibar with a barely heard mutter.
"You and me both, Thrill, you and me both.."

>Returning an exasperated glower to you, Caliya's ears lay back, eyes narrowed in chagrin and giving a 'do I look like your maid?' stare, giving up with a dismal groan.
>Stepping over a cackling Allys, her hooves scraping on the floor slowly, the shaggy gray stallion shakes his mane out in irritation, heading towards the ice chamber in search of the rare bottle of milk.

>Picking themselves up and brushing off, Thansimum and Kalatrine don't even spare a look before clopping off after the company of foals, though you do catch a snippet of mocking between them as they exit.
[Kingdom Crystal Pony] "Not what I expected her to look like."
[Kingdom Crystal Pony] "I'm surprised she does not have a sign that says 'mare mauler' around her neck-"

>Order Territory, The Butchers Den: The Greccion

>>26526055
>As you hobbled your way through the undergrowth of the forestry surrounding the lake, you could see its large mass was becoming more obscured with every step you took by trees and sticking out bushes.
>Shuddering from the shoulder down to his back wound, the Greccions pained voice drowned in gurgles as he talked at a slower pace.
"Need...mission...do. -an't go...b-back.."
>With a hacking cough, a globe of blood and bile spat out of his beak, thick residue pooling in his lower jaw to drool out over its sharp edge.
"...Die for...family.."

>>26355735

>Keeping a straight face while Twisted literally shouted the two generals down, Sunny rubbed her ears.
>The shout had set them ringing just a bit.
>Turning to Twisted with amusement, she raised her voice as though her hearing had been blown out.
"DON'T FIND WHAT? DO WHAT AT THE RANGE? WHAT BORDER?"

>>26522873

>What she sent around came around in the form of that humans /hilarious/ little jab about cats.
"Oi. You."
>Sunny flipped him the bird with her tertiary pinion with a good natured grin on her face.
>Folding her wing back to her side, she muttered bemusedly to herself more than anyone else around her.
[Pegasi] "Milk's not even alcoholic."

>Doctor Tipper

>>26526024

>Eyes crinkling at your strange expression, the faded pink unicorn turns her chair halfway, leaning back to eye a cabinet above you.
"I don't think there's any cocaine left.. hmmm, nope. Not that it was much good to start with after being rained on. I think one of the human medics threw it out."
>Turning back to offer a small shrug, it's quickly followed by a cheerful smile, turning to point at a small, round glass water bong close to her tea pot, covered from the rear by a small towel.
"But I do have about forty varieties of mareijuana from southern Neighvada if you'd prefer, just don't ask where I get it from, and as for explosives I don't allow them in here, there's too much sensitive equipment and supplies to risk."
>Tilting her head to the side with a raised eyebrow, the aged Doctor lifts the cup after a few moments, draining it slowly, then directs it onto her desk with a muted pink glow.
"Well-"
>Swiveling her chair to face you, the blanket is pulled upwards from behind her with a similar glow, wrapping around her shoulders, then over her forelegs as she sighs.
"To be very honest with you... the chance is high. I know that I would lose my mind if I found myself on another world, mostly because I'm much too old. Listen, if you really want to, I have some.."
>Trailing off for a minute to think, Tipper's ears flick several times apiece, swiveling about to her desk, the top and side drawers opened, peering into each while she speaks.
"Some human equipment loaned to me, stuff that I can't use. For obvious reasons"
>Lifting a forehoof and wiggling it with a small, mildly amused snort, four hard shelled plastic kits land next to you with a number of rattling sounds, the unicorn slowly spinning back.
"One is something called a stress tester, the other three are ee-lick-trom-neck, or something like that, chemical testers that I've been assured can detect just about anything."

>The clinking of the ice chunks was the only noise made as Vick sat silently at the bar stool
>Patience was usually one of his strong suits and he rarely got excited
>But try as he might, he just couldn't stop the welling energy
>How much longer should he wait?
>Surely a few more hours.
>Maybe tomorrow?
>Licking his lips in anticipation, he glanced around the room without really seeing anyone
>What was he going to do if he caught it?
>He could always take his time with it.
>A nagging part of him pointed out that it was an innocent animal. In no way deserving of pain
>But that voice was much easier to ignore now
>The real question was: Did he want to do it?
>He knew it would be excillerating.
>Excitement like he rarely got. I mean look at him now. He could barely wait an hour
>Hmmm
>But if he were to decide now. It would kill the excitement? Wouldn't it?
>Yes. Much better this way
>Smiling much more contentedly, he took a swill of his drink, lighted a smoke and looked around for someone or somepony willing to share in conversation

>Citadel Doctor Heartbreak

>>26526275

>Mildly impressed at the complete lack of flavor, the only taste there was to be had from the obviously rushed sauteing was an overabundance of heavy butter, and a tiny sprinkling of salt.
>Staring blankly for a few seconds, Doctor Heartbreak tips her nose down, a rueful smile tugging at the edges of her lips, visibly trying not to laugh.
"Do.. you have any idea.. how.. silly that sounds to a medical mare?"
>Cheeks bitten into for a bit, the vibrant pink mare turns her head towards the sleeping golden harpy, then back to you, ears rolling in circles with a thinly hidden smile of amusement.
"I do understand not wanting to share species vulnerabilities, especially allergies and the like. That is why I insist on running complete sterilization procedures on rooms, equipment, and patients.."
>Trailing off shortly, Heartbreak turns to slouch against the bed, eyebrows raising in mock resignation, motioning towards Eleyana with her chin in subdued humor.
"Despite your 'physical characteristics' not matching up to the rumors most of us have heard by now, humans are remarkably similar to several otherworldly species. This includes harpies, minotaurs, and Shrikes. The reason I am asking you now is.. I have been ordered to, within the next month, devise patient procedures for humans in the event of critical or life-threatening injuries, incapacitation, shock, and loss of extremities."
>Pausing while her ears flatten, the unicorn slowly releases a long, dim sigh, bending down to rub her snoot on the edge of the bed, grumbling in a morose tone.
"There are only two factions that can produce prosthetic limbs, and they are much more expensive than we thought. I would much prefer to remain on the Citadel and collate information rather than travel to Razorback, especially since it is so cold down there."

>Mr.Agent

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IELn5j8aqUc

>>26528762
>Even though he had spent months down here in the Undercity, the suited Operator felt a new wave of guilt course through his body as he passed the regularly tired faces of the ponies trapped here, their injuries preventing them from moving on.
>Probably a good thing, don't want them to see the mess on the land below.
>It cut him deep, deeper than that bane-enchanted blade giving him a limping leg.
>This might be the last time he will see this place, for a long time at least. And maybe, MAYBE, if he is able to come back it won't be the same as memories serve.
>Ponies here will certainly be more disgruntled.
>Right now he needed to inform Razorback, humans and ponies alike of the news he has. Of the events that has transpired.

>Although it didn't mean much to them coming from him, Mr.Agent gave the Merc's a friendly pegasi goodbye as he stepped through the Translocation portal.
>"Not evena day in the dry cleaners can remove dis stink from me."

>On the other side of the portal in the Pagoda, he placed the cig back in his awaiting cracked lips and took a deep puff.
>He wanted to calm his nerves now that he was back, since he had an 'ole lotta 'splainin to do.

>>26530595
>The thickening concealment is appreciated. Ideally, it will spread as far as they need.
>The Greccion seems to want to carry on after all.
>The line between ambition and stupidity is thin.
"Negative. If you've got to die for something, make it worthwhile."
>While it's no concern of the Clone's, the Greccion's situation does sound peculiar.
"And you are not bringing me down with you. I don't care if you've got a good reason to die, I've got three good reasons to live."

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>Order Territory: The Greccion

>>26531983
>Your surroundings, and more importantly, the ground under your feet change progressively as time went on, from softwoods and thin bushes to bunched hardwoods and tighter thickets.
>Most worryingly of all was that it was slowing down your progress, since you now had to take extra care in not letting the protruding length of the harpoon to get snagged in increasing foliage.
"How is...protecting family...n-not worth...while?..."
>His breathing rose in pitch as he said that, might of sounded angry if not for being completely banjacked though.
>You felt his claw try again to latch onto your shoulder, but again the smooth surface did not grant such.
"Leave me...here...not bring...-ou dow....-oo."
>Once he regained what little stability he had, he tried to talk up more over the sound of your crunching boots on leaves and twigs.
"...what rea..sons you...live?"

...

>>26533389
>Progress is slowing.
>The pair are still safe, however. This is acceptable for now.
"I mean in relation to the enemy, aruetii. If something's going to cost you your life, it better hit them hard. Unless you're like me, it's a waste."

>It's frustrating enough to have to abandon an objective and fall back. To have the Greccion die would only compound that.
>It would also make returning impractical. The Commando has a greater chance of getting lost if he does not have someone who knows the area better with him.
"Not happening, aruetii."
>He realises that he may have intended that as an order, but after the events that transpired before, he does not see fit to take orders from him, accentuated by the change in his method of addressing him.
"Commandos One-Two-Oh-Three, One-One-Seven-Four, and One-One-Two-Five...four reasons if you include the Republic."

>Order Territory: The Greccion

>>26534776
>He remained silent as you told him about your brothers and the Republic, though you felt one of his hindlegs sluggishly keeping in tandem with your footfalls.

>You stop, the forest floor around you becoming to thick for you to navigate with the impaled Greccion hanging on by your side.
>If you were to move onward bushes and trees would hit the long body of the harpoon, potentially increasing the damage already done to the the albinos shoulder.

>Looking around, you could barely see the manufactured lake through the swaying treetops.
>Despite the arduous journey, time had no relation to your progress it seemed thus far.

>>26530861
>He blinks and stares, just listening to the doctor speak.
“Doctor? That, uhm... That was a joke.”
>Watches as the mare continued, and even brought out those plastic boxes, his gaze following them on their journey to land next to him.
“Electronic.”
>His gaze rises back to her and he clears his throat.
“And that was more, uhm... Existential, Doctor, than medical.”
>His right arm lifts to scratch at the back of his neck as he shifts and looks off.
“Anyways. Is this supposed to be like, a check-up?”
>Gaze returns to her as he gestures to the kits next to him.
“Or ah... Is this the check-up?”

>Mr.Agent

>>26531860

>Taking out his phone, Mr.Agent called for DJ Lonestar, or anyone for that matter as he read up on the Bulletin Board.
>"Lotta happenin's goin' on, aye?"

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>>26531150

>Pareidolia grimaces briefly as the utterly bland flavor rolls across his tongue.

>Far removed from Allys' cooking. Standard fare hospital food.
>No change from Earth hospital standards.

>He continues eating as Heartbreak elaborates, leaving her initial question as a rhetorical one.
>As she mentions her orders, he slows his pace and glances around the room with a furrowed brow.

>'Patient procedures for humans' in the event of critical injuries...
>Are the Starborn providing joint assistance to alleviate Tipper's workload?
>Would provide much needed relief.
>If Tipper had agreed to this, why haven't they simply requested information from her? She has the most experience working with humans and would readily provide expertise.
>'Cold' is not a sufficient excuse if this is an order.
>Prosthetic limbs...
>It is surprising that the majority of Razorback has avoided needing them for so long besides that operator with some sort of alloyed arms.
>There may be future potential in this project, if I acquire the necessary equipment.

>Pareidolia sighs and looks down at Heartbreak as she leans into the bed.

"Dr. Tipper would welcome the assistance. While I can provide some information, human medical treatment is not my area of expertise. It would be more useful to request information from Tipper directly as she is better equipped to answer your questions. Mild discomfort would be a small price to pay."

>Post #1/2: Empire Spa & Hooficure

>>26350659

>Lazily tossing the same salute back, Anon slumps down into his couch, the familiar sound of video editing software coming from his cell.
"Yeah... later."

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8SbRin2GM4

>Stepping through the doorway, you're greeted by a high, open air crystalline foyer, streamers of blue, purple, and red cast by subdued glowstones from the ceiling trailing down, leaving streaks in the warm, steamy air.
>Slouching in front of a low circular counter, a host of potted plants, mainly aloe vera and flowers clustered around it, two sets of green and orange tufted ears twitch back, then forwards.
>Lifting a set of claws to point behind her, four luxuriously shiny coated Crystal mares, each with similarly styled rolled manes, take somewhat surprised notice of you, Belltower muttering something in an already sleepy tone.
>More than likely rolling her eyes, Malyne reaches under both broad forest green wings, carefully digging into what were obviously hidden underwing pouches, then hops off to lay a spread of silver and gold Bits onto the counter.
"Tadaa~, here you are."
"Just the four of you?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Such a sweet heart, aren't you? Selitrine, Carmine, Topaline, please escort these lovely mares to the steam room."
"Aye aye madam!"
>Trotting out from around the counter, the first of the four mares, a young, dusky red mare with a charming smile lifts her head, motioning towards a short hallway ending at a curtained door, the short roll of her mane bobbing merrily.
"Greetings sehr, I am Qestal. Do not worry, you will rejoin your mate and fillies shortly, but first you must be..."
>Losing her train of thought, Malyne spins around to give you a short wave and a giggle, then prods her mother into following along with the yellow, red, and topaz Crystal mares into an opposing hallway.

>Post #2/2: Empire Spa & Hooficure

>>26350659

>Rubbing her chin for several moments, Qestal sets her hoof down, a friendly smile crossing her lips.
"Well, first things first, a hot shower. Come with me to clean up, and then I will show you to the spa."
>Spinning about with clicks from gilded crystalline hooves, you're left with little choice but to trod after, the mare holding the curtain aside to enter, then closing it.
>Pausing in the middle of a lounge crossed with a locker room, the dusky red Crystal mare points out an unfamiliar, very much out of place bright red locker, giving instructions to remove your weapons, armor, equipment, and clothing, stating that she would return after you'd finished.
>Peering in after ten minutes to ensure you were completely stripped down, Qestal simply nudges you into a dimly lit steam room, featuring a host of comfortable chairs and couches, all carved from solid dark wood, some padded with the ubiquitous white leather-like material ponies were so fond of, while others were barren.
>Motioning towards a stream of hot shower flowing down onto a rock waterfall on the left side, Qestal states to wash off, relax until comfortable, and then head into the next room for the 'adult spa', the mare offering a small bow before turning about and trotting into a pony height door, locking it after her.

>Entering the third room after a while, you find a thick, heavily fogged walk-in spa sloping into the floor after several feet.
>In the middle of the near-perfectly hot water, you come across a pair of long, similarly padded tables in the center, Belltower stretched across both of them, hazy green eyes rotating onto you with a slowly spreading smile.
"I think.. you should get comfortable 'cause there's going to be a lot of warm, soft hooves coming in real quick..."
"For both of us, kekeke~!"

>Rasera, Traveling Merchant

>>26366371

>Giving each other snarky grins, the Lunar Guard pair turn about, looking for somepony else they could shove their retrieval duty off to.
"Heh, I bet he had a heart attack seeing those prices Aster, I know I would."
"With how much you spend on booze you couldn't afford half of one."
"You shut your yap, I buy the good stuff and you know it! Now let's go find a unicorn or the Changeling before somepony or somehuman starts yelling."

>Raising an eyebrow at the mention of comics, Naliyna slowly lifts a hoof, placing it on the end of her snoot and rubbing with a disbelieving sigh.
"Unbelievable.. THAT is what you spend half your pay on? And here I thought Mercy's collection of gem coins was bad. Listen, those comics might be collectable in about twenty or thirty years, and that's only if they're in perfect condition."
>Stifling another sigh, the fuchsia mare sets her hoof down, tilting her head up at Rasera with a bright smile, then nods down at the ground, both leaning forwards to scratch numbers into the cold packed dirt.
>To Aster and Blitz's incredible amazement, for once the bartering process didn't break into hoof-to-snout combat.

>Rocking back on her hooves after several minutes of silent back and forth bickering, the Japoneighse mare stoically shaking her head and pointing at the sign, Naliyna turning to stare at it.
>Rolling an eye back to Aster, Naliyna lifts her shoulders with an 'I tried, but that's as far as I can go' smile. then eyes the stack of futons with a grudging, mildly impressed tone.
"I think I've met my match here.. best I could get is ten percent off, but no more. These are completely hoofmade, had to have been by a grandmaster craftspony. As far as I can tell though, they're flawless, so if you want one you better get one now."

>Rune City

>>26542131
>Slamming the shot glass down, the unicorn mare returned to staring at the Rune Boon papers to see if it was blurry yet.
>No, her vision was still crystal clear.
>Another shot was in order.
>With her horn being enveloped in a soft glow, the mare prepped a new glass of liquor as her morbid expression faced the headline of yesterdays papers top article.
-"Hoomons, Facts or Fiction with Mrs.Frosty Bottom"-

>Her friends shrill cry continued to resonate within her flattened ears back when she brought up the newspaper.
>It was honestly a do or die moment for the unicorn, give her Earthmare friend something or get a hooful of pain to the muzzle.
>Sighing, she levitated the new glass over to her, and before taking it down took a glance at her storage.
>This was the last shot, she needed to buy more booze.
>And right now she was nearly out of Bits.

>Swallowing the burning liquid down her throat, the depressed pony dropped her head onto the minibars counter.
>Get hoomons to do a concert.
>Or go broke, with ties with the council ruined.
>And worst of all no more drinks too.
"Fucking Frosty just HAD to do that Q&A."

>Twisted Wing

>>26530664

>Pausing to turn her head back, the Burning Pegasus stabs your general direction with a one eyed squinty stare, then rolls her head around in an aggrieved circle.
"Don't you start that nonsense or the next time I feel like shouting it's gonna go straight down your throat and vibrate, now get over here before I decide to make you foalsit-"
[Pegasi] "For a month straight."
>Waving you and the remarkably unenthused human to the minibar, Twisted lazily slides over the counter, collecting twelve bottles, dumping each in the center.
>Sitting down next to a dim green pegasus forcing herself to inhale through short, nearly breathless giggles, Twisted places a hoof on her nose, staring apathetically at the chosen liquor.
"...if today gets even a bit weirder, I'm gonna file a lawsuit against Discord."

>Noting peripheral movement from your left, a wiry, shaggy coated gray earth stallion enters your visual radius, setting down a wide brimmed bowl of cold milk two feet from you, though you note a small glimpse of very odd, and very sharp, carnivorous teeth.
>Offering little more than an acknowledging nod, the earth pony turns around silently, skirting off towards the opposite end of the mess hall.

>Popping a cork off a bottle of sweet, berry scented Moor wine, Twisted sets it down with a leery nose wiggle, sliding one each towards Sunny and Thrill.
"The rules are simple you two: the first one to pass out, get dragged off by somepony or someone else, throw up, hallucinate, or be unable to finish their milk loses..."
"Not that I expect any of us to win, really."

>>26536007
>Current status prohibits the two from continuing.
>Removing the spear is a poor option. May cause noise and fatal loss of blood.
>However, no patrols have been sighted so far. Hostile presence may be smaller than anticipated.
>Navigating out of the area through areas of less foliage may be viable.
"We're going to have to find another way out, aruetii. We can't risk removing the spear, but the lake's too open."
>The Clone searches for potential routes out that both provide some concealment, but still have enough room to escape, attempting to minimize the pair's profile as much as possible.
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]
[1d6]<U. Stealth

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>>26520154
>Looking bashful, Hollow rubs at his scars while he looks on
>Ooh, that one tingles...
>"Frankly, I find her frankness quite refreshing, after having to deal with other ponies. I'm sure she'll get over it..."
>Eying Roust's wings more than the picture covered ceiling, Hollow gives Roust a Look
>"I don't mean to cause offense my lovely changeling, but you seem a bit...scatterbrained for building work."
>Snickering under his breath, Hollow continues onwards to his work, poking the pile of chitin as he goes
"You oughta teleport some of this stuff back y'know, it really is good for building. Although, Sweet might try to eat it..."
1/2

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>>26520165
>Crossing his arms and staring at the imprint out of the corner of his eye, Hollow nods his head vaguely
"I know a bit about them, and you aren't far off. Sometimes they get put in place on purpose, like this one probably was, sometimes they pop up through other means, during moments of intense emotion, that sort of thing. I guess a particularly strong one could cause some kind of trouble..."
>Turning his head to grin at Shanis, Hollow pokes at...certain areas of his armored bulk suit
>"It really fosters a deep connection, you know? Seriously though, it is good for building and armor. Gives you a warm fuzzy feeling!"
>Amongst many other feelings!
>Putting aside his juvenile humor yet again, Hollow poked and prodded at the coins curiously
"Hey, there's a whole bunch of old Crystal Kingdom coins up here, copper, bronze, and...quartz?...amethyst? Why would they use common gems like those for the currency? Anyway, either of ya'll know if these are worth anything? Maybe a collector or historian or something...although, I guess they technically belong to Chryssy.
>Pulling some empty satchels from somewhere amongst his bag, Hollow carefully sweeps the scattered coins in, securing the satchels in his bag once finished
>Pointedly avoiding approaching too closely to the creepy psionic imprint, Hollow gives Roust an unnerved Look
>"I don't know, isn't it just a warning system, or complicated form of evacuation order? Maybe he just left the imprint behind on accident? All I know is that you are -seriously- tempting fate to come and fuck us with lines like that one."
>Feeling decidedly nervous just at the thought of it, Hollow looked around, spreading his mind and eyes, just to make sure...
[1d6+2] <NVG
[1d6] <E.Perception
[1d6]
[1d6+4] <Master E.o.H.: Murphy's Law Detection System
[1d6+4]
[1d6+4]
[1d6+4]
2/2

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26544177
>Your former leader gives a barely perceived nod, the bloody drool cascading off the side of his beak flopping into his ruffled plumage.

>With your current predicament of carrying the Greccion, you felt the Underdarks tendrils slip away as you moved through forest in search of a way out, leaving you just as exposed as before.

>After giving your surroundings a sweeping investigation, you could not find a path-of-least-resistance through the thick foliage at first. But up ahead several metres away northwest of your position did you spot the treeline dispersing, giving wide enough space between hardwoods for you and the Greccion to safely traverse through.

....

>>26543609

>As soon as Twisted wasn't looking her way, Sunny silently poked her tongue at the pegasus general.
>However, she quickly assumed a perfectly straight face at the mention of Discord.
>For a moment, she seriously considered bugging out again. She could manage it.
>However, foalsitting was not her forte, if that threat was even half serious.
>Shrugging it off, she moved over to the bar, claiming a stool.
>Bringing the bowl of milk before her with a wing, Sunny shot the stallion an unamused look before dipping her muzzle into it.
>Probably Discord in disguise. Seems very him.
>Thinking it over, she drank down a sizable portion of the milk before glancing at the Moor wine.
>That's more like it.
"Permission to retreat, ma'am?"
>Hah.

>As they sat around the barrel of fire they talked about their past experiences with psions.
>Most of the band Lont was now a part of didn't have much actually, which did not surprise him.
>So when it came around to him to talk, he was brutally honest about it.
>He could see the fear in their eyes as he confirmed the fears they had suppressed so far, it didn't help that he had an extreme view on them.
>And why wouldn't he?
>Every event he encountered a psion at this point was in the military.
>And only once did see a friendly one.
>The rest were slaughtering imperial soldiers by the droves in their spindley suits, doing impossible acts in the name of killing his fellow comrades.
>How his former squadmates didn't see the world as he did he could not understand.

>At least now this new band he can warn of the dangers of psions.
>And the measurs you can go to suvive when one is near.

>>26550706
>Sadly though, APG's (Anti-Psion Grenades) were classified as military grade weaponry, so getting his hands on them would be impossible.
>Telling the gathered group this troubled them greatly, however Lont did have one trick he learnt from the army that can't be regulated.
>He told his new team mates about the mental measures when combating psions, namely if you feel you've been tricked by one or sudden memory lose.
>Lont said verbatim what his instructors had taught him, and at that moment he felt pride for what he was doing.

>Psions, they were a devious species, they must be distrusted constantly, second guessed thoroughly, and most important of all; dealt with extreme prejudice.

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>Canterlot: Venous

>>26551857
>Venous watched as the latent coat enchantment that came with her armour faded away to be replaced by her natural orange coat as she striped down in the barracks.
>A final sigh of relief came out of her tired muzzle as her helmet was propped up onto its respective stand, the mint green glow of telekinesis evaporating from the piece.
"What a night, a horrible night."
>She lamented while coming to a stop in front of a wall mirror, her personal brush hovering over her messed up vibrant blue mane.
"And that shampoo didn't protect my mane either, HORRIBLE NIGHT I SAY!"
>Snorting grimly at her own reenactment of a pompous Royal, the Honour Doctor mulled over the nights events as she tried to revive her manes tranquil roundness.
>"At the very least my lucky rat tail is still intact, thank you O colourful bead."

>Princess Celestia was back in control and has led an extermination of the Royal Guards as her first action, however Venous could not join the fray as a call was sent out from one of the Noble Estates.
>Mary Duo Whell's to be exact.
>She didn't need to remember what she saw back there.
>Worrying of all out of this mess was that the Noble in question was taken prisoner by the raiders.
>They have suspicions and a few leads, however nothing solid as of yet.
>Time was of the essence she and everypony knew, the longer this played out the worst the outcome it will be for Duo Whell for sure.
>And the Nobles' human...
>He just sort of left for somewhere right after having a small breakdown.
>Was that what all humans were like?
>Surely not, or else all the rumours of certain high profile Guard ponies being, well..."partnered" with some would make even less sense now.
"OW!"
>Pulling her brush from out of her mane to inspect it, Venous' green and blue eyes narrowed at seeing one of its teeth bent.
"This is new, must be the fault of an enemy. Or one of the other mares, typical, jealous as always of my pretty mane! Oh well, life could be worse..."

>>26545273
>A route of passage lies ahead.
>A small remainder of thick foliage cover blocks access.
>Not dense enough to waste a breaching charge on.
>Blaster fire, however, should be suitable to burn a way through.
>With shots placed into the larger and sturdier branches, he should be able to weaken the block enough to push through, making a large enough space for the two to pass safely.
>The Clone carefully lays the Greccion down on the ground and draws his sidearm.
>It can be fired with one hand alone, but the preceding engagement has shown aiming to be much more difficult under current conditions.
>In addition, fewer shots will lead to less total noise. The DC-15s may be far quieter than the DC-17m, but it is still not silent.
>Very quiet, yes, but not silent.
[1d6]<B. Energy Weapons
[1d6]

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26553602
>With a whimper cut off by a dry hack, the Greccion unconsciously steadied himself on the uneven ground as you turned your attention to the dense wall of brush.

>Taking aim for key points you identified to give the most yield, your visor was filled with the flash of Plasma rounds being discharged.
>Bark of trees, stalks, branches of plants burnt away on impact before the echo of your weapon faded into the lush background.
>Lowering your gun, you admired your handiwork; a literal hall carved out of the thickets and bushy mires led all the way into the dispersed trees.
>Your HUD picked up frantic movement above, and checking to see what it was you saw a flock of local bird life flying away from the destruction.
>You realize that although rampant fires won't break out, it would take around an hour before the smoldering remains of the obstructive flora had ceased producing streams of smoke.

>>26554217
>It seems that he will not need to barge through at all.
>Excellent performance, given the weapon's damaged state.
>Being notified of nearby motion, he snaps back to attention, aiming up, only to find the source being (hopefully) harmless native creatures.
>The strenuous movement punishes him with a brief resurgence of pain.
>Thankfully, he is not left clutching his chest for long before the Bacta takes effect.

>The smoke and the fleeing animals will be likely to attract attention if seen.
>The pair need to move fast.
>The Commando returns to the Greccion's side and picks him up once again.
"We're going to have to pick up the pace, aruetii. Might be best if I carry you again."

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>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26554499
"Can't...move...b-by self. Slow you, down."
>He gasped as you lifted him up onto his hindlegs again, where they shook in place before you moved through the passage you created.
>Although you were fine, the Greccion began to cough out his lungs as the smoke filled the air, but remained silent on the matter.
>However, once you cleared the burnt patch of land did his breathing not improve, in fact it sounded akin to a spluttering rusted fossil fueled engine.

>Thankfully, the dense undergrowth petered out around the first layers of the spaced out hardwoods, granting you faster movement away from the smoldering clue of your presence here.
>Tall grass and other leafy plantlife covered your tracks, it helped too that every now and then you passed over naturally fallen trees.
>The sounds of animals in the distance was somehow relieving, as they could potentially warn incoming danger.
>Looking up into the sky, you noticed the a mild layer of mist was slowly accumulating, telling you it must be right after midday about now.

>>26555157
>Less foliage.
>Thinner visual concealment, but increased mobility. A fair tradeoff.
>The two manage to soon put some distance between themselves and their route of exit.
>The Clone notes the Greccion's ragged breathing.
>It may be worth finding a safe area to apply some more Bacta.

>The two are making good progress...he thinks.
>Thanks to his method of focusing only on what is at hand, the exact details of the route they took are scarce.
>A lot of walking. Snow turned into grassland at some point.
>He believes they're heading in the correct direction, at least.
>With enough Bacta, the two should be back up to speed in time.
>There is certainly enough in the canister.
>How long what is left over will last is another matter.

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>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26555362
>Stepping into a patch of ground where the glass was replaced with discarded needles from overhanging trees, you tried to recall what you did back then as you slowed down to a slow walk to prevent any tracks being made.

>From what you remember of the trip from Anfang to here, you climbed down from a mountain range, then up along the spine of another and gradually walked down again into the Orders land.
>The travel time of that was a day and a half you think, which posed another problem.
>There was no feasible way the Greccion could possibly make it to higher altitudes with the harpoon still stuck in his shoulder, and to leave it until reaching the border would create more problems with the Guard towers stationed around like the one you briefly stayed within.
>On the other hand to remove such a weapon would take time and cause great amount of pain and stress for the Greccion, maybe fatally so. However to leave it in would prevent bleeding, but as you have experienced your Bacta can counteract this.
>Then again, there might be a chance that he might of lost all feeling at this point.

>The day was burning away, and you knew if decisions have to be made they have to be made now while things were calm.

>Doctor Tipper

>>26537367

>Turning her chair to motion the teapot onto it's stand, Tipper rolls an eye back at you with a humorless stare.
"That didn't sound much like a joke to me. Like nearly every doctor on Tallus I'm of the medical opinion that providing certain agents or plants has far more benefits than side effects, if it's both properly and reasonably managed. Criminalization of 'substances' is the most ridiculous, stupid, and heavy-hoofed authoritarian measure I've ever heard."
>Wrapping the blanket around her tighter, the aged mare lifts her shoulders momentarily, resting her head down with a brief smile.
"Whatever that means. Just call me old fashioned, all these devices that humans keep showing me are more confusing than the difference between pain killer and pain reliever. Besides, I'm older than all of you here and that means I'm allowed to make my thoughts known without having to ask."
>Shrugging once more in response, a hoof wiggles under the blanket, each of the cases popping open one after another, small instruction manuals spread across them.
"Not at all. There's only two checkups per year, once after Hearth's Warming Day, the other in the middle of summer. Unless you come in here injured, ill, covered in quills, spines, or lava, the only other reason would be to have a smoke out-"
>Edges of her lips curling back in a smile, Tipper's head motions towards the water-bong once more, taking on a small, thoughtful frown.
"Or to talk about something you're having problems with. Unless.. you're requesting a checkup to see if somepony or someone's drugged you.. I don't know why you'd have something get spiked, but you can test yourself with those to start with, and then I can run alchemical and blood tests if you don't come up with any proof."

>>26556724
Your OC is shit.
Your post is shit.
You're shit.
Kill yourself.

...

>>26538859

>Hearing the oft heard sounds of an accepting beep, it's followed by blankets or a pillow being shifted, a loud, aggravated groan, and then Lonestar's tired, crackly voice.
"Ugh.. who the fuck is calling me right now, and.. ..forget the and, most importantly, what time is it, what do you want, and where are you?"

>Citadel Doctor Heartbeat

>>26538953

>Expressing a primly indignant scowl at the grimace, Heartbeat turns her head to the left, eyes turning blank shortly.
>Returning to you, a shocked, wide-eyed stare is given, the Doctor's head lowering with a depressed frown, winding up with her snout crushed into the sheets.
>Silent for nearly a minute, the mare speaks up in a soft, uncomfortable tone, her eyes panning towards the foot of the bed.
"I cannot leave the Citadel, human. I was born and raised here, so I have no.. resistances to the infectious agents of my parents' own world. I cannot ask for Doctor Tipper to come here, some do not trust her past history, and the Council does not allow non-Starborn members admittance. The two humans whom came before you are close affiliates as one joined, and the other may, yet you are not, an-"
>Cutting herself off quickly, Doctor Heartbeat lifts her head up, giving you a short, negative shake.
"It may not matter much, but I will tell you regardless: while you were asleep, the Council stated that you are to be permanently excluded from admittance to the Citadel due to your statement that you had, to quote: 'expected to arrive here within two years', or something similar. There was one Council member in dissent, but they were immediately overruled, and it is likely they might face disbarment."

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>>26559265

>Pareidolia opens his mouth slightly in an attempt to say something, but pauses and tilts his head to look at Heartbeat

>Born and raised here.
>Fully extra-planetary? Complete isolation?
>For what purpose? What utility would that serve?
>Potential for complications and foreign pathogen infection incredibly high
>Is this a quarantined wing?
>...

>Pareidolia nods slowly and closes his mouth as she turns to look at him
>He arches his eyebrows as she informs him of the Council's decision

>Well at least there is one course of action we can agree upon.
>With preliminary assessments complete, Command would agree that current priorities are not with the Starborn.
>Other operational issues will be addressed in subsequent actions.
>One dissenter facing disbarment? Strange.

>He weakly smiles for a moment as his upper cheek muscles twitch due their lack of use.

"Thank you for informing me. I appreciate your disclosure."

>For once, they're being practical.
>I wonder if Jeff and Clemency can be entrusted with this sector.

>Rubbing a hand over his mouth to assuage the muscles, he glances over to Eleyana to see if she was still asleep

"Though, I find it amusing a Council member would face disbarment over my situation. This was not the reason you came here. What information do you need regarding human physiology?"

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>>26557792

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>>26556097
>A complex situation.
>This time, the Clone does not have a strange feeling to guide him.
>He spends some time considering the possibilities.
>By now, the Bacta should have had whatever effect it will to his health.
>If he is to remove the spear, he will need to act fast in applying more Bacta.
>The downsides of leaving it be outweigh those of removing it.
>Not by much, but even a minute difference is worth acting on in this state.
"Aruetii, how are you feeling?"
>He asks the Greccion, attempting to determine if the Bacta has dulled his sense of pain and fatigue like the supply provided to him does.
"That spear's going to have to come out, or we're not going to get very far."
>Wasting no time conveying what he intends to do, he looks for a secluded area, one with enough concealment to sufficiently hide any blood.

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>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26561443
>Getting no answer from the lurching Greccion, you shake him gently enough til he squawked out a response.
>Apparently he had fallen asleep, least he should slightly be more energized.
"Where am I?"
>Sagged feline ears twitching around the sides of skull as he eyes investigated your surroundings, he eventually released a sigh through his nares as he remembered what was happening.
"Trouble it is..."
>Tilting his beaked head to the side, he examined his shoulder out of morbid curiosity, albino feathers long since turned fully dark red around the numb wound.
"Get it out."
>His one functioning foreleg latched onto your shoulder, this time there was enough reinvigorated strength to help his claw stay put as you carried him off to the area.

>The grass was taller here with no stone nor fallen tree, only tall hardwoods and their needle leaves covering the air above, forming a sort of alcove.
"Know how remove Harpoon?"

...

>>26562017
>The Clone is briefly concerned, worried about the possibility that the Greccion had quietly died.
>Not for the Greccion's sake alone, however.
>Thankfully, he seems to be having an easier time talking, and quickly agrees on this course of action.
>It would be easy to be hesitant. The easiest options isn't always the best.

>A suitably concealed location is soon found.
>Once again, he lays the Greccion on the ground and detaches his pack, extracting the Bacta canister.
"As much technology as I have, the most I can do is pull really hard and drench the wound in Bacta. This won't be pretty."
>He opens one end of the tank like before, and leaves it upright, ready for immediate use.
"I want you to keep your eyes on me, alright?"
>He says, pointing towards his glowing blue visor.
"Don't want you falling asleep again, or else you might not wake up."

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26562938
>Carefully laying down onto his back, the albino catbird propped himself up with his one good claw as he examined the fettered remains of his other leg.
"Won't be easy too. Painful also, but must remove harpoon."
>Rotating his head to you knelt down beside him, he gave a solemn nod before locking his raptor eyes onto your T-shaped visor.
"Tell when."
>Taking deep breathes in and out, you could see his irises dilate and contract as his heart drummed against his crest.

>>26563656
>The Greccion readies himself, and the Commando does the same.
>He thinks that notifying him would not be as effective as trying to distract him from it. He may be able to attempt to prepare for it in the former case, but no amount of preparation will make this process any easier.
>That, and he hopes to keep the Greccion's attention on something else like he did before.
>He gets a loose grip on the harpoon, gently enough to not move it and cause any damage.
>Keeping him as calm as possible may reduce the risk. A heart attack would be complicating.

>He considers his choice for a moment. There is the potenial for Republic secrets to be in danger of exposure.
>Although it'll be years or longer before anyone, let alone the Republic, finds this planet.
>In addition, the technological level of this planet all but ensures that nothing on it will ever make use of anything he says. There is no risk of such information finding its way into the wrong hands from here.
"Tell me more about your family, aruetii, and you can ask anything you want about mine. What are they like?"
>The prospect of a trade of information may help to calm the Greccion.
>He gives him time to start responding, waiting until he is underway with his answer, before tightening his grip and pulling as hard on the spear as his arms will allow.

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26564338
>The criminal took a sharp intake of air at feeling the slight movement from his numb shoulder as you gripped the harpoon, the embedded barbs of its head not causing any discomfort.

>Between deep even breaths as he continued to stare intently into your visor did the Greccion respond, his voice determined and restraining against the quivering fear.
"Both strong, both survivors. Fledgling more like mother, but have my f-F -[Greccion] "!!!!!!"
>Yanking as hard and as fast as you could, you immediately felt the barbs viciously bite back into the ruined flesh of the Greccions shoulder, giving painful residence as the Gryphon slammed his beak shut with a powerful rattle that could of cracked his face open.
[1d6] U.Iron Will

[1d6+20]

>The vibrations from the harpoons head scraping against bone was brutal, however with tenting meat you were able to pull the weapon free from the gaping hole.
>Its removal having created a new wave of crimson blood pouring out over of the black jagged rent in the criminals thrashing body.

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>>26565136
>While his gaze darts between the Greccion's face and the spear, the Clone's head stays fixed, giving the impression of a constant stare.
>With some difficulty, the spear comes free, and the Commando immediately drops it and grabs the Bacta canister, immediately applying some to the newly opened wound to stop the bleeding as fast as it began.
"They sound like my brothers and I! No mother or father, but born and raised to be fighters by some of the greatest warriors in the Galaxy!"
>He goes off of what little the Greccion managed to say, trying to continue some kind of conversation to keep the Greccion awake. His voice is slightly raised to ensure the Greccion can still pick up on it.
>The rapid application of Bacta should help to minimize the pain, and go some way towards closing the wound.

>Post #1/2: Shanis & Roust

>>26544345
>>26544350

>Rolling a front hoof in wide circles on the smoothed stone underneath her, Roust stops to pass an amused grin over an unsuspecting Shanis, slipping into her less formal thought patterns.
>'Well, the only ponies I can think of that aren't 'frank', as you doubly put it so, would be Zigri, Amerose, Broken Hoof, and Hodch. They're much more secretive than even Mercy says is normal.'
>Huffing out loud, the skinny Vanguard's multifaceted eyes squint back at you.
>'I can focus for hours on a single task at a time.. if I want to. I'm thinking about taking some with, but I'd like to contact my Queen first, give me a bit.'
[1d6] <E.Contact
[1d6]
[1d6]

>Poking through the storage racks and inspecting maker's marks, Shanis pauses to glance over several with a dry tone, though a twinge of amusement radiates around her.
"Could also be used to say 'keep out' to everything else. Probably what's making me nervous."
>"I'm very seriously reconsidering this very awkward friendship of ours, you nutcase."

>Post #2/2: Shanis & Roust

>>26544345
>>26544350

>Pausing from her inspection, a stilted 'hmm?' comes from behind the pile of chitin, Shanis sticks her head around a chunk of flank armor, blinking confusedly.
"Gem coins? ...what? I need to see this-"
>Skittering out from under the, to her, looming stack of doom, the black suited pegasus skates rapidly at you, sliding to a halt quickly and scanning each one as they're dumped in.
"Awful weird. Gotta say I've never seen one before, and no, I don't have any idea what they're for. Maybe one of the conclaves separated from the Kingdom and minted them for their own use? I'm gonna suggest asking Naliyna about these first, she's the expert on ancient Tallus stuff. If she doesn't know, I'd say either Succubug or.. that metal-skinned horse face should."

>'Tempting what?'
>Blinking back into the real world, Roust swivels her head around, ears twitching about, then sticks her tongue out at you, sniggering.
>'I haven't tempted anything, except maybe Shanis, so there's nothing to worry abou-'

>For a moment, you, Roust, and Shanis both feel a tremendous vibration, the entire dome tilting perhaps half a degree, and then sense the arrival of something quite large, incredibly hungry, and very much annoyed on the surface.
>'....I TAKE NO RESPONSIBILITY FOR TH-'
"Just be quiet, and get us out of here instead of avoiding blame."
>'But my sled and Fuoco are on the surface!'
>Letting out an inarticulate half-groan, half-sigh, Shanis double facewings herself, visibly shaking in contemptful pragmatism.
"And there I was, safe, warm, and thinking, 'oh, maybe I should bring Sweet with me, she might like to play around in the snow', and then there's this Changeling saying, 'nah, don't worry, you're safe with us'. This is the last time I ignore my own worst judgement."

>The Hangover

>>26548094

>Popping another three corks off, one is slid to you, the other at Thrill, the last one stared at for several moments before Twisted rolls an eye to you, offering a slight, mere shake of her head.
"Denied. We're going to get hammered and forget what just happened so when tomorrow shows up we're all on speaking terms. Now.."
>Glancing over at the saucer quickly, a single long black wingblade flicks up, stretching out to drag it in over front of her for a solemn inspection.
"You know.. since you didn't finish this.."
>Pushing the first bottle of Moor wine, raspberry you think, in front of you, two bright blue hyacinth eyes glint coldly, a small, subtle grin creeping across her lips.
"That means you empty this first. All. Of. It. In. One. Go."
"Starting right now."


>As far as Sunny or Thrill was concerned, Moor wine didn't seem to be anything special.. right up until the moment all three begin to black out after the fifth bottle.
>And black out, they do!

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26565669
>Dropping the blood and flesh covered harpoon, it thudded hard onto his damaged scaly foreleg, its wounds still raw enough to be ultra sensitive. 49/120HP BLEEDING! SHOCKED!

>Whipping his head back, the Greccion broke away from staring at your helmet to instead gaze water eyed into the low canopy above, his other foreleg beating a clawed fist imprint into the spine covered ground to keep conscious while simultaneously to coup with the flaring pain.
>Applying the Bacta like before the chemical concoction flooded the gaping shredded wound, blackened muscle developing a hardened sheen as bright cascading blood ceased running down his feathery hide. BLEEDING CEASED!
>Hyperventilating, his one supporting foreleg buckles under him.
>Laying flat on the ground he twitched and spasmed, his back wound getting covered in discarded spines, but that was least of his problems since he was having a hard time breathing properly.

>>26569003
>Highest priority treatment complete.
>The wound on his back is still open.
>Another application of Bacta should help to stabilise him.

>The Clone takes care to attempt to keep the spines near the wound from falling inside as he expends another helping of Bacta.
>With his free hand, he does what he can to keep the Greccion from writhing, to make the application while simultaneously keeping the spines out as easy as possible.
>Once finished, he sets the canister aside again and grabs the sides of the Greccion's head, forcing it to come level with his.
"Keep it together, areuetii! Tell me more, keep talking and you can ask me as much as you'd like!"
>Of course, the Greccion isn't going to care about his family, either, but if it keeps his attention until the Bacta takes effect, it's good enough.

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26569293
>Beak going slack, blood flecked panting bathes your helmet as his glazed eyes refocus on your visor. 51/120HP
[Greccion] "????"
>By the way he talked it sounded he was unsure what was happening, even perturbed too.
>His other claw, which has been digging a trench into the dirt smacks onto your supporting arm holding his head, dirtied digits smearing mud onto your light grey armour.
"D-did you...rip h-harpoon OUT!"

>Mr.Agent

>>26559079
>Fag nearly falling out of his lips, the suited Operator quickly placed the cig onto his favored ear before talking into his phone.
>"Should recharge the ting more often."
"Hey there Lonestar! Its me Mr.Agent, 'prolly 'aven't heard of me much. Its nearly day break fer all I know, anyways that ain't the point of dis phone call."
>Turning his back to the Bulletin board, he adjusted his tie as he surveyed the long missed surroundings of the Fortresses interior.
"I needs to tells ya of what's been happenin' in Las Pegasis. The place is falling apart an' worse, we are no longer close allies wit 'dem an' a human was part of the 'ole fiasco, need ya to relay the 'ole message know wadda mean?"

>>26569706
>With the Greccion seemingly stable, the Clone casts his eyes downward.
>A more-than-unremarkable amount of blood adorns his chest.
>At least it's not green. The Geos have a way of making awful messes.
"I did, aruetii. It's not perfect, but the bleeding has stopped, and the wound should close soon."
>He replaces the Bacta canister and mounts his pack again.
"We don't call this miracle fluid for nothing."

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26571241
>His grip tightens as he gave you a scolding look through the dulling pain.
"Never pull hook weapons."
>Sliding his claw off your wrist, he stamped his foreleg down into the ground to prop himself back up, his disgruntled sigh expelling the tension.
"What do now, return to Anfang?"

>>26571767
>The Commando wonders why, if the Greccion was so opposed to this method, that he didn't say anything earlier.
>Thankfully, the question of whether or not Republic secrets would be in danger does not seem to be relevant any more, as the Bacta has quickly started to take effect, and the need to keep some kind of soothing conversation going has disappeared.
"Affirmative. My vitals are still dangerously low, and yours will be, too. Bacta works miracles, but only if you're submerged in a tank or you've got systems like mine and a Bacta Dispenser."

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26572364
>Shaking his head, the Greccion tries to stand up, but his legs give, leaving him to slump back down in his proned position.
"You, go. Need finish mission. Can't go back."
>Tilting his head to the side, he stares off into space, as if trying to see something through the forests, the mountains and snow in a far off distant place.
"I'm not leaving."

>>26573070
>The line has been crossed.
>This exceeds poor decision making, and stumbles into the territory of incompetence and empty bravado. Few things are more likely to get someone killed.
>A bigger head is an easier target.

>The Greccion is clearly not in a state to return by himself, let alone finish a covert operation. As if to prove the Clone's mental statement, he tries and miserably fails to stand.
"That's never going to happen, aruetii. Look at yourself. The only thing we'll finish by carrying on is ourselves, and that's to say nothing of how you'll fare alone."
>The Clone wonders if the Greccion somehow wishes for death. If by "can't go back" he refers to the agreement, the terms of it must be woefully wasteful.
>Much better gains could be made from the giving of someone's life.

>With the way the two escaped through the thick foliage, and the Greccion's condition, it seems likely that enemies will be upon him before he has the chance to do anything.
"I doubt you'll even make it back the way we just came before enemy patrols find you. That, and I don't feel confident that I'll even find my way back on my own."
>The Commando feels the need to repeat what he said before.
"If something's going to cost you your life, you had better hit the enemy hard. And like this, the only thing you could take down with you is me, aruetii."

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26573475
>Staring into your visor with a harsh glare for a long silent moment, he eventually relents and lays back down onto his back.
"...Make good point. Also owe you."
>Taking his time, he carefully raises himself up off the needle carpet ground to stand on his weak legs.
>Well, three legs, as his left foreleg was ruined.
>Seeing he was going to be moving with a limp at best, or a decommissioned appendage at worst, he gave you an accepting nod.
"When we go, Thunder Raven?"

^

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>>26566795
>Sorta, but not quite...
>"Maybe frank isn't the right word. She's...I'm not finding the right words here. Do you not see what I'm getting at? Maybe I'm just going nuts...er! Also, Amerose and Hodch at least have a professional reason for being secretive, what with their occupations."
>Pondering that particular thought, Hollow grins at Roust, his eyes filled with his usual mischief
>"Not that his secretiveness has stopped pretty much everybody figuring him for being a filly fooler."
>Well, I won't judge a pony for his fetishes
>After all, these ponies are terribly saucy...
>"Yes dear, of course you can...I've seen you staring at mushrooms all day! Anyway, I guess we could use up this stuff for building and weapons projects. I doubt Succubutt has enough of a shortage problem to need this little pile. But, I suppose it is hers..."

>Allowing his grin to become ever more cheshire, Hollow Stares deeply at Shanis
"It's a possibility. And if it makes you feel anybody, it's making me nervous as well!"
>"But hey now, don't be hasty! After all, we've made such a good team so far!"
>Snicker!
1/2

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>>26567120
>I had a feeling this were weird...
>...if they were some kind of independent currency though, that could possibly explain why they've used less valuable material, but surely, if you were going to make a currency at all...
"Yeah, it is a bit. I'll ask Nal when when we get back, and then I'll probably ask Chryssy if she'll want them back. Also, I have no idea how to even talk to Silver. Probably the same way I talk to Discord, just going outside and yelling until they show up..."
>It does make my voice -horse- after awhile though!

>Mouth tightening and going straight as a line as the dome shifted with dramatic ferocity, Hollow turns to look at Roust with the kind of look that just screams "Why have you done this?"
"This is really making me glad I grabbed that disc. Now, both of you hang on, this may get bumpy!"
>Rushing at Shanis and dragging her quickly towards Roust, Hollow gets his hands firmly on the both of them, before closing his eyes and focusing hard on the top of the hole, and the sled still sitting there
>One, two, three, warp speed!
[1d6+3] <E.Warp Shift: Teleport
[1d6+3]
[1d6+3]
[1d6+3]

>Critical Operation: Drowning the Sea of Gold, Completed.
>Dante gains: +3XP, +1 Canterlot/Solar Adherents/Tower Guard Rep, +5 Lunar Adherents Rep, +5 Dynasty Rep.


>Razorback Fortress.
>Noon.

>Safely 'delivering' the now mostly patched up Royal and Honor Guard, including a quickly poked awake human, an irate Hodch, and Denra, into the encampment.
>Besides the reservist and former diplomat, the host collectively sigh, then begin the grim, thankless task of removing clear, sticky layers of amniotic fluid from their weapons, armor, equipment, and most importantly themselves.
>A deep, tired yawn vibrates the air for a moment, a barely corporeal, transparent unicorn phases into the physical spectrum upside down, legs curled under her with a content, yet dubious smile directed at Dante.
"My apologies about the time it took to return, but I hope you enjoyed your first ghost-flight. However, as much as -I- may have wanted it to continue, I do require a nap. Oh, and, you will want to wash everything off as soon as possi-"
"Bael!"
>Tossing her last small radish at the ghostly unicorn, Marble Leaf casts her helmet off, head swiveling about and eyes narrowed tightly.
"We're missing two unicorns and a pegasus here, so where the fuck are Gravad, Antlily, and Mist?"
"I.. do not know? They were still inside me when I woke up to see the sun be raised."
"And what, did they just disappear?"
"No? Gravad knows how to teleport out of a translocation. Perhaps Antlily wanted to look at flowers. You know how she is."
>Allowing herself the luxury of a long sigh, Marble turns about to nod at the Razorback members, Denra and Hodch flashing suspicious looks at each other.
"Right, right.. we'll pick up from here and join the Day Guard shortly. I'd like to thank the three of you for coming along, but I suggest that none of you ever talk about this, who knows what might happen if it gets out.. and go take a bath before any mares smell you."

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>>26576946
changing trip because i forgot the last one
>Well, that was a very...strange trip.
>Felt like it lasted months, even though it was just a few days.
>Ah, well.
>Though, it was weird being suspended like that for so long.
>It's been so long since I stood on my own power, that my legs feel like jelly!
>...speaking of jelly...
>The hell is this stuff on me?
>I begin to bring my arm to my face for a cursory sniff when a rather loud mare's yawn draws my attention.
>Oh, hey, it's that mare that did the translocate thing in the first place.
>With a rather strange look on her face...
>Something seems off about that smile.
>I shrug it off, some flecks of the weird jelly dripping off of my form.
"Eh, I'd rather be suspended in that thing you did than dead. Say, what do you mean by-"
>And, interrupted by another mare.
>How un-surprising.
>As I continue to look over my form at the strange substance coating me, a shock of fear runs through my body.
>Mist is...missing?
>This doesn't make me feel too at ease.
>Oh, no, she didn't go missing, she...
>Left?
>Why would she leave without telling me?
>Or anyone at all?
>This doesn't bode well...
>And what did that unicorn mean 'inside me'?
>That's an awfully strange way to phrase the translocation.
>I shrug, yet more of the viscous substance falling off of me with my slight movements.
"Hey, no problem. Yeah...never thought I'd have to participate in a purge, and I'm not sure any future employers of mine would appreciate it."
>Sighing and shifting my footing briefly, I look at the portal mare and Marble.
"Hey, if either one of you hear anything about Mist, let me know? I know she can take care of herself...but I'd still like to hear if she's alright."
>Just once last thing...
>Why were they so worried about taking a bath or something like that?
>I begin to bring my arm up to my nose to smell.
>'I mean, it's not like-'
>Wait, I know this smell.
>It's the smell of...
>Oh.
>I'm coated in Maregoo.
>...
>mfw

>>26574665
"What for, aruetii? I'm just trying to keep a clean record."
>This planet and everything on it has no relation to the Republic. As if any events occurring here will ever find their way onto his record.
>Even if anything did, while losing an allied operative would reflect poorly on a Commando in any other circumstance, the death of someone from such a vastly inferior force would not be a concern.
"Right now. The sooner we get out of enemy territory, the sooner we stop running the risk of having patrols catch up to us."
>He really should not have introduced himself like that...

>Eventually finding the Command Center, Corsen pries open the explosives locker, pushing the nightvis optic up and raising an incredulous eyebrow at the assortment within.
"...if only I could carry half of all this."
>Pocketing a single skull and bones canister, hoping it to be something obviously outlawed and highly lethal, he goes on to quickly look over the regional maps.
>Pocketing a map of Canterlot for later use, the Cultist takes a permanent marker, then goes to scrawl a small note on the explosives locker:
"Separate munitions, too much in close proximity - install hardened cells for separate explosives - do so underground if possible"
>Stepping back to inspect his awful handwriting and the lack of name, he shrugs, tossing the marker back where it came from, then steps out, hurrying towards the pagoda while palming the canister with a smug smile.
"If only-"

>>26552823

>Demanding the hated circle to deliver him closest to the Honor Guard barracks, Corsen breaks into a half-jog towards the building, slipping the folding blade under the bulky cold weather suit.
>Halting at the barracks and eyeing the building for a moment, he decides on performing the tried, tested, and true method of doing everything at once, starting with the very obvious Solar Adherents.
"I have a message for the Honor Guard unicorn leader that arrived at Lady Duo Whell's mansion: come find Corsen.. which would be myself, at the northeast garden of Canterlot Market Square in one hour."
>Not even bothering to give them a word in, he spins around, returning to the same translocation stone and requesting the general name for the red light district of Canterlot, then begins searching for the dive bar rumored to have the shadiest criminals around.
[1d6] <U.Scouting

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>Thunder Raven, at his core.

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Dat 1

>>26577919
>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

"You save me, even when seek death. Not death want by Minotaur, but worthy one."
>Stepping around inside the alcove to test his movement, he grimaced at the poor results his locomotives gave.
"Can't go way came in. Must find other way."
>Lifting up his wounded arm as high as his pain threshold could afford, he pointed off into the distant mountains seen barely through swaying treetops.
"North that way, take days return to Anfang."

>>26579112
>The broken Basic takes the Clone a moment to decipher.
"You're never going to win this fight by throwing lives away. Even in a war of attrittion, each one has to count for something, even if it's just taking down two clankers for every Clone that dies."
>He picks up the spear, trying to judge if keeping it will or will not make the journey back too difficult.
>Preventing the enemy from recovering this weapon would help thin out their supply of heavy armaments. He believes that the "Minotaur" may not be unlike a Super BattleDroid - powerful, but much rarer than the rank and file.
"Why not? Think we might've been followed in or something?"

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26579709
"That why tasked make death good."
>He sighed as you hobbled out of the alcove, his head swaying back and forth as if drunk to observe his surroundings.
>With the harpoon hefted in both your hands to judge its weight, you found it was remarkably balanced for a none technological world.
>This meant the creator of this weapon must of been a master of their trade when it came to vicious tools, this theory exemplified by the wicked head of the pole-arm.
>Wicked hooks ran done each side of its tapered octagon head with grooves in between the rows of devilish ensnarer's to allow shanked prey to continue bleeding.
>It was heavy, even for you, and it being 5-6ft in length made it cumbersome right now, but perhaps there were other craftmasters out there to shorten it for your own personal use you thought.

>Returning to look at you over his shoulder, the beaten Greccion bodily shudders at seeing you eye the very tool that nearly took his life.
"Don't know. But not that. They be alert more in place. Goal big, hard to miss, reach mountains."

>Canterlot: Venous

>Using a knee to rub the back of her ear where some of her mane was pulled by the damaged brush, Venous knickered happily at feeling the irritation fade away after applying some kneegrease.
>Although she was a unicorn, nothing could beat your own flesh and blood when it came to removing an itch.
>Not even magic.
>"If one were to find such a spell that could be greater at dissuading an itch, I would happily bear their foa-"
>Thoughts cutting off as her ears perked up at the sound of rushing hooves nearing her barracks room, Venous merrily trotted over to meet the incoming visitor with her mane proudly done in time.
>"No pony shall see my mane tardy. No. Pony."
>Opening the door before her with a telekinetic pull on the hoofle, the Honour Doctor stood at attention as a fellow Honour Guard still in her armour came to a stop in front of her.
"What matter do you bring at this time of night?"
".."
"Wat."

>>26578020
>You could feel the Portal Remnant eye you with disdain as it begrudgingly opened its colour maw to allow you to jump to other parts of the city, but you were well used to entities not perceptional to your eyes silently judging you back in your dimension.
>In fact you think you would be dead by now if you did so with any of the malicious beings back there.

>Spitting you out like a bad tasting glob of phlegm back into reality, you found yourself in a part of Canterlot that you immediately spot had fewer light sources illuminating the place.
>However you could chalk this up to it being nearly day break as well.
>Regardless of lighting conditions, as soon as you took your first step you faceplanted the flagstone around the Translocation matrice.
>Apparently the steps for this Translocation point were much closer to the stone than you were used too, leaving you to crumble done onto the path, your legs propped up on the steps which damned you.
>Thankfully Tzeentch was merciful and didn't allow you to be injured.
>This time.
>Damn fucking bird.

>>26580679
>The Commando understands the need to be concise in communication, but this extent is a bit much.
>If his assignment is to go out with a bang, his earlier ambition to attempt to do so in such an injured state does not reflect well on his situational awareness or decision making.

>The weapon may be transported back without too much difficulty.
>It is primitive, as is to be expected from this world.
>He does not have much training in melee combat, but he can still appreciate a well-made weapon when he sees one.
>Although times have changed, his Mandalorian upbringing imparted him with some knowledge of melee weapons, if through nothing but education on the old ways of combat.
>It is well made and the design is admittedly effective. Its weight would give it considerable power in the hands of those with the physical strength necessary, and it would be an easy weapon to wield for such combatants.
>He has not had an opportunity to assess a melee weapon before. It is an interesting activity. He does not notice his immersion in the analysis, nor does he notice that he murmurs all of his observations.
1/2

>>26580679
>>26582782
>He has no interest in using it for himself. Instead, the Grecion's allies may benefit from it being in their possesion. Modifications could be made to make a weapon more suited to their use, which could be put into production, increasing the combat effectiveness of their forces.
>It takes the Commando a moment to realise that facilities for such large-scale production will not be present. On the other hand, such scale may not be necessary - the forces themselves are sure to be an order of magnitude smaller than any he knows of, let alone the Clone Army or the CIS.

>The Greccion's judgement is sound. Having been occupied with other events, the earlier engagement around the guard post had slipped his mind.
>Security is likely to have been tightened in that area as a result.
"A different path would avoid the guard post from earlier and the surrounding area. I had forgotten about our encounter."

..

...

....

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26582782
>>26582796
>Dryly chortling in amusement at your forgetful memory, the injured Greccion swung his beaked head back to looking around the area himself and you were currently hiding in.
"Border likely patrolled, must stealthy. Don't like harpoon you carry but keep if want, at risk."
>Its then you notice that one of the traps the Minotaur had placed was on the Greccion's tail, how he hasn't felt it you did could not fathom.

>>26587216
"Bringing it back would have its advantages. Modifications to the design could make it suitable for use by you and your allies. Turning the Order's own well designed weapons against them could give you an edge."
>A trap still lies on the Greccion's body.
>This external application of Bacta must dull pain more potently than the Clone had expected.
"You'll probably want to remove that, then, aruetii."

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26587686
>With apparent confusion rife in his voice, he continued to survey the forest as he talked back with bafflement.
"Not Order weapon. It Minotaur one, mercenary. Gryphons have better anyway."
>Once you pointed it out, the Greccion cursed in his own language as he forced himself not to flip out.
>Spending the next 20 minutes removing trap and inspecting the wound, his shoulder slumped as he held his tail in his good claw.
"Tip of tail dead, can't feel anything. But no bleeding, best leave it for now."

>>26588283
"Mercenaries? That would make their numbers within the Order's forces even smaller."
>Which in turn makes eliminating one all the more impactful.
"I hope, for your sake, that you're right. But, even so, lessons in design could be taken from this and, if nothing else, I'd like to take a closer look in time in order to make my records as detailed as possible."
>The Clone does not realise the lack of a point to making records about this planet.
>The Greccion eventually removes the trap. Injury is far less serious than existing wounds. No bleeding.
"Good. I won't have to expend any more Bacta."

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>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26588791
"In that case, we go now, head for mountains."
>Taking in a deep breath, he takes the first tremendous step forward, though you notice straight away he was not as mobile as he was once before.
[1d6-1] B.Perception
[1d6-1]
[1d6] B.Stealth
[1d6]
[1d6] >R.E

>As you trudged after (and easily keeping up with) the limping Greccion, your surroundings gradually transform from high grassed forestry to thin small bushed woodland with scattering rocks here and there.
>Above your heads you could see snow from the mountain peaks drift down south, caught in a cold front that would eventually come your way.
>Or you would walk into.

>>26589361
>The Commando is easily able to keep pace with the Greccion.
>The pace is slow, but good enough to not make assisting him a necessity, nor an action that would provide a substantial increase in mobility.
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]
[1d6]<U. Stealth
>In time, the density of foliage diminishes. He notices signs on the mountainside of wind, and likely accompanying temperature changes.
>His thermal balancing systems will be fine. The Greccion, in his injured condition, may not be. He alerts him of this, leaving it up to his judgement.
"Things are going to get cold, aruetii. Are you able to handle it?"
>He seems insulated enough, to the Clone. Not to the extent of a Wookie, but one would have to look very hard to find anything that comes close to matching those walking carpets.

..

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26590704
>Even when damaged greatly, the Greccion was able to sink into the Underdark deeper than you, whom only was able to diminish your sound of movement and partially fade away your body.

>Catching flakes of moss falling off the side of a rock to indicate where the Greccion was in relation to you, you assume he had stopped to catch his breath and check on you and your question.
"Wounds let heat loose over time, even frostbite in cold altitudes. Need hunt and skin animal to pass mountain tops."

..

...

>>26594556
"A wise precaution."
>This will incur delays to their return.
>Ideally, it will not take too long.
"We'll have to target something sufficiently big, that won't also pose a threat."
>Although up and moving again, neither can afford to forget their current status.
>The vibrant red alert on his HUD that refuses to diminish ensures that he will not.

>>26599642
>It was a reprieve this shade, granted by this stalwart tree in the middle of a sea of green, under baking sunlight that would fry a frog dry.
>It was relaxing this music, played by my trusty fellow sitting right next to me, calming his nerves and mind with such a pleasant distraction.
>It was reassuring this gun, handed to me by the military I served, protecting my squadies and I from harm.

>It was nice this moment, this break.
>It was soothing and tame, until the mortars came.

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26599773
>Scraps of claw on stone indicated that he climbed up onto the stone he stopped next to, you assume the Greccion was investigating the surrounding woods for viable prey.
"Must be animal nearby, must be."
[1d6] B.Perception
[1d6]
[1d6] >R.E

>>26602518
>Dat one guy ahead.
yup, that's Razorback alright.

>>26601504
>As the Greccion moves to look from a height advantage, the Commando searches the immediate area for signs of nearby creatures.
>Staying mobile is a high priority. Spending too long looking in one area may allow the enemy to catch up in the event that they send out scouts.
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

>>26603442
"Around time year big prey still eating openly, even here."
>As you searched for any wildlife the Greccion shimmered back down off the rock, flecks of moss trailing his descent.
"Afraid can't hunt, you do it with weapons."

>You heard plenty of flora all around, from bugs in the undergrowth to birds in the sparse canopy overhead.
>But no large prey animals whatsoever, until your HUD picked something up a few feet away.
>Investigating, you found a large dollop of feces splattered on a combination of fallen bark and rocks.
>Judging by the size the animal must be around the same as the Greccion, and by how...soft it with a twig, it was still fairly fresh.

>Turning around at a disgusted sneeze, your catch sight of the Greccion's silhouette snap around from his spastic hacking.
"Smell bad, but belong to plant eater, close it has be."

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Pegasi shooting.

[1d6] <#1
[1d6] <#2
[1d6] <#3

>Citadel Doctor Heartbeat

>>26559496

>Slowly bringing her head up to eye level, the vibrant pink unicorn nods briefly while her lips curl downwards, sitting down to eye the top blanket's complete lack of patterns.
"I suppose so. Being self-quarantined at a young age oft times makes dealing with others complicated, even superficial."

>Still dead to the physical world, the golden harpy hadn't so much as moved, leading you to think she wouldn't wake up for quite some time.

"Hmph."
>Ears folding backwards after the snort, the Doctor's muzzle scrunches, her face contorted in a strange mixture of moods.
"Gale Ironmane is not somepony to discount or deal with unfairly, even if one knows her weaknesses. I do not know if I distrust that pegasus more than I fear or loathe her, though the desire to spy on her every waking moment is nearly unbearable. I will state that she made an excellent point of physiological human differences deserving further stu-"
>Nose twitching aggravatingly, Doctor Heartbeat blinks, then assumes a rather neutral face, a sound similar to a broom on stone occurring as she clicks her tongue once, a sheaf of paper drawn up from somewhere along with what looked like a pencil, writing down the list while she speaks.
"What I require are the basic biological processes: what human foods are preferred and necessary; what is to be cooked and what is to be raw; what is toxic, poisonous, too acidic or alkaline to consume; the minimum amounts of each general food group necessary to sustain both minimum and excellent health; the requisite toxin, poison, and allergen responses of known Tallus foods; and last would be comparisons between what we usually have on hoof to prevent, cure, and treat symptoms."
>Paused from her note taking, the mare's snout wiggles back and forth in near-deviousness.
"If you would prefer, I have a contact in the Moors by the name of Peach Drop that could pass this information through to me."

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>>26608352

>Pareidolia brings his gaze back to the books before him as he idly finishes off the last shrimp on his plate
>His brow remains slightly furrowed as he listens

>Then my deduction was correct.
>Though, quarantine would not explain a superficial attitude towards social interaction.
>Her position demands that. Or was she selected for some other reason?
>No clear motive for the practice at present.

>He looks sidelong at Heartbeat as she begins talking about Ironmane with absolutely no prompting on his part.


>...These ponies really do speak their minds more often than they should.
>Convenient information for me.
>Ironmane has an interest in studying humans?
>Worrisome. And I've yet to be informed of her tasks.
>Will need to minimize the amount of information her prying finds.

>He takes a bite of another mushroom and closes his eyes as she recites her list

>Information on diet...
>Dietary risks...
>Effective medical models of treatment...
>And has a contact in the Moors.
>With such an extensive list, even if she is confined here if this was her assigned task, she should have clearance to request the Starborn affiliated humans to provide this information.
>That would be a preferable first option to recruiting an unexpected intruder.

>Exhaling and taking a sizable gulp from the water bottle, he taps his fingers against the page of one of the volumes.

1/2

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>>26608780

"I may need to make use of Peach Drop for whatever information I cannot recall now."

>He pauses briefly, still drumming his fingers.

"Given that this was your assignment, to acquire said information, wouldn't it have been more reasonable to request the presence of one of the Starborn affiliated humans to provide it? They have access to the Citadel and could easily acquire what you need. While I will be able to provide some of the information you requested, I do not understand why you opted to ask an intruder instead of Razorback directly."

>He stops tapping his fingers and looks at her.

"Is something preventing you from making use of that option? If so, how were you expected to accomplish this task when you have little to no contact with humans?"

>>26570265

"Ehh.. now I remember you. Figured you'd left for somewhere like a few others've done, got lost, or been killed. Go ahead, I'm listening."
"....well.."
>Silence reigns for over a minute, then two; a patch of static occurs before a short shattering of glass later, finally ending with the former DJ slipping into a thick, enraged Texan accent as something else breaks.
"Thas jus' fucken great! All we done for 'em ruint bah one sonnuvabitch thet couldn' keep 'is nose clean, fuck ev'rytha-"
>The transmission cuts out immediately, leaving you with a single fading bar of battery life.

>Shanis & Roust

>>26576366
>>26576406

>'You mean she has a willingness to speak? I agree!'
>Wiggling her ears in wide circles, the Changeling squints up at the dome, black nostrils flaring as a condescending glare hardens her face.
>'I've made it very clear what I'll do to him if he becomes a problem.. ..as for my Queen, she has told me that we may recover everything we want from here, but we should be leaving very quickly before whatever THAT thing is decides to dig down.'

"We can talk about the fatflank and the weirdo later, right now I'd like to know how we're going to ge-"
>Gazing down Roust out the corner of her eye by using the stereotypical aggrieved matron's look, Shanis' ears flatten and eyes glint dangerously at the rough treatment, caught in mid-sentence, thus making her unprepared for the twisting, strangely tasting colors of psionic teleportation.
>Deposited into pitch blacked snow via a bright green C minor tasting rift next to the sled, Shanis lands facefirst inside it, Roust flopping into the two foot snow with a single never ending, enraged mental harangue that probably included every swear word across Tallus, half-spaced and all, that is if you could remember it, silently fumes about leaving her armor behind.

>Streaks of blue from the east catch your attention beyond a dead still Fuoco: station wagon sized chunks of bright, whirling blue claws, or perhaps teeth, forming a sequence of hundred foot long chained blades ripping through the snow and ground at a frenzied pace above the dome, a sudden deadpan from Roust making the Mercenary Queen's blood both boil and freeze at the same time, shouting to be heard over the painful noise.
>'That is a Frost Ripper.. a small one.'
"You call that thing SMALL!? ARE YOU INSANE?!"
>'I was years ago, but no, that is a small one, perhaps twenty years old at the most.'
"THEN GET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

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>5DR, 3 slotted enchanted gear each armed with +3 melee weapons.
>Continues to use ranged weapons.

>Mr.Agent

>>26610690
>Tsking at his phone nearing its deathbed, he ended the called before re-securing the cig in his lips.
"He'd better tell 'em all soon, gotta feelin' worse is'till on its way."
>Pocketing his hands as he turned to gaze north, the suited Operator had only one thought on his mind.
>"Wonder if there is any clients 'round here."

>>26610773

Nice rushing. Looks like you'll come out with less than when you went in.

>>26604213
"Strenuous activity is not advisable."
>Unfortunately, his blasters have been displaying erratic performance.
"My weapons should be enough, but you may wish to be prepared for the event that they are not, aruetii. They are badly damaged, too."
>His armaments will be a priority for repair. The broken vibroblade must be mended first, although such a relatively simple repair should not take much time.

>The ways in which Geonosians made messes were unlike what leads the Clone's search.
>Much more disgusting. Unlike the corpses earlier, his respirator is able to dissipate the stench that plagues the Greccion.
>He cannot help but stifle a chuckle at the sight, before mentally chastising himself for this slip in focus.
>How the Greccion can identify its source is beyond him, but now is not the time to think about the fine details.
"A herbivore? A prime target."
>The Commando continues his investigation, looking for any disturbance of plant life nearby that could potentially indicate the target's location.
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]
[1d6]<U. Stealth
[1d6]<U. Ambush

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Remove Pigeon.

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>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

1 AMBUSH TOKEN FOR THUNDER-RAVEN!

>>26612544
>Scanning the closeby flora for implications of the defecaters' presence, you spot a short bush missing some of its spindly leaves with some of its neighbors crushed to the side, as if a big animal barged its way through them.

>Checking yourself, you find that your preyish armoured body has faded somewhat translucent, although you felt your bright vibrant blue visor would be a dead give away against the green environment to any searching.
>Or not wanting to be searched...

>Before you heard him, the patter of a pebble bouncing off rock to rock announced the Greccion coming to a stop next to you, his voice lowered as a shimer of his head surveyed the tree covered horizon.
"Yes, no bones and green. Plant eater close, but where."
[1d6] B.Perception
[1d6]
[1d6] >R.E

>>26541568
>Inwardly agasp at Nalyina's comment, the Night Guard scrunches his muzzle disdainfully.
>He does NOT spend half of his bits on just comics!
>There's other stuff, too..
"I-I do that! Which is why I always buy TWO of each comic! One to keep in it's original packaging, and one to read."
>Finding that his logic is infallible, Blitz changes his mood, smiling smugly at the aging crystal pony.
>And sneaks in a silent raspberry in her direction, while her back was turned around to negotiate with the Japoneighsian.
>That'll show her!

>Rolling her eye's at Blitz's painfully immature display, Aster smiles softly at Nalyina's results for some wiggle room and brings a hoof to her chin to contemplate.
>Thumping Blitz in his light armored chest, to cease his now playful leering, she looks over at her saddle bag strapped to him.
"Split an S-Rank Travel? Fourteen from me, thirteen from you."
>The pegasus looks at her oddly, head cocked to his right at the odd purchase decision.
"Why do you want a travel one?"
"My mattress is nice and broken in, and I don't have a good travel futon. And you can use it... whenever you wan, I guess."
>Knowing an incentive always works on him, Blitz instantly perks up and agrees with a nod and reaches back to pull out a separate bag to hoof to Rasera.
>Collecting the necessary bits from both saddle bags, he loads the pouch up with twenty-seven hundred bits worth while Aster points to the third name and price from the bottom and signals for only one futon to the black slender mare.

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>>26610773
>Choosing to stay silent at the idea of retribution against Hodch, Hollow just keeps up his grin
>That's hopefully not gonna be a problem...Hodch is a good ally, despite his tastes
>I have seen a few interesting cases myself...

>Dusting the snow from his armor, Hollow looks at Shanis, than at Roust, than promptly removes his helmet and headbutts it...gently
"I forgot about the damn armor...I'm sorry Roust. Still, better than being eaten."
>Sauntering (quickly) over to Shanis, dusting her off a bit, before hoisting her over to Fuoco and the sled, Hollow deposits her on it as gracefully as possible
"Sorry Shanis, for that teleporting, the one that's about to happen, and making you lay on a skeleton!"
>Now choosing to merely rush, without any sauntering, to Roust, Hollow hurries her over to the sled, makes sure his body is in contact with it, Fuoco, and Shanis, and another hand on Roust
>Geez, why can't teleporting be easier...at least we're within the limits of this stupid disc...
"Okay, so...this'll probably be even bumpier than my teleport, so...hang on?"
>Readjusting his almost entirely forgotten cigar in the corner of his mouth, Hollow puffs on it for luck, before pulling out the tiny translocation disc, and activating it

...

>>26617159
It's Manly Mucho of the Manliness Brigade

>>26614208
>The Commando's gaze quickly locks onto the unnatural gap between some of the plants, and he moves in for closer inspection.
>One of the plants has been damaged. Almost certainly used for feeding.
>Focusing more on tracking down some prey than hiding from possible hostiles, if he can keep up the pace, he follows this lead and alerts the Greccion.
"Signs of activity. This way."
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]
[1d6]<U. Stealth
[1d6]<U. Ambush

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>>26618015
Have this instead.

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>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

1 AMBUSH TOKEN FOR THUNDER-RAVEN!

>>26619552
"Can't see enemies, hear animals in distance back fire at. Smoke cleared likely."
>The memory of that little stunt you pulled off back there made the Greccion gag up some spittle, his sore smoked throat slightly disrupting his concealment before vanishing again.
>Taking in a few deep breaths to focus his mind and body, your wounded partner skulked after, his profile low even within the embrace of the Underdark.
"Right way, I keep look for enemy."
>You heard him say from behind as you searched, his voice giving you an estimated distance of a few feet between yourself and him.
[1d6] B.Perception
[1d6]
[1d6] >R.E

>As you moved out, one of your boots slipped on a particularly moist chunk of wood, causing you to lose your footing somewhat.
>You were able to correct yourself easily, although the abrupt move washed the Underdark off of you, leaving you perfectly visible to the naked eye.
[Grecccion] "????-" "-Won't do good when seen."

>It was simple enough following the tracks, since they were cutting through an increasing amount of pebbles and stone covered ground, leaving scuff marks and displaced rocks to give away the direction the animal was heading.
>Observing the wider picture of your environment to get into the mind of the animal, you conclude it took a shortcut through this mismatched patch of stones to reach an open area of long grass up ahead by several yards, bypassing nasty looking briar's that yourself and the Greccion were about to encounter.

[1d6] >The Hunters
[1d6] >The Hunted
[1d6] >Event

....

>>26620845
"Possibly, but we can't afford to take any chances."
>Poor footing breaks the inexplicable concealment.
>Upon noticing this, he immediately attempts to replicate it.
[1d6]<U. Stealth
[1d6]<U. Ambush
>The Greccion moves to watch behind the pair, as the Commando is easily able to follow the path.
>Potentially hazardous foliage comes into view. His armour's protection is unknown in this state.
>A silly suggestion, but it may not be enough to make traversing directly through possible.
>The Greccion, lacking such protection, absolutely will be unable to pass through.
>The Clone looks for a lead on the rest of the path the target must have use.
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

1 AMBUSH TOKEN FOR THUNDER-RAVEN!

>>26621618
>Rectifying the slip immediately seemed to have pleased whatever forces were at play on Tallus, as your body was mostly invisible with any sound you made dulled away, combined with the natural rustle of undergrowth caught in timid air currents masked your movement even more so.

>The path your prey left behind vanished from your sight for the next couple of feet, until you spotted a moss covered rock laying on its bare side, residue of dirt still clinging onto it from when it was knocked out of its place in the ground.
>Taking up this lead, you soon discover more evidence of the creatures presence, this time it snacking on a dead bush of bristled twigs. The leafless shrub in question was slick still of saliva from the grazing herbivore, meaning it was closer than you thought initially.
>Looking around, you spot a new trail of trampled brush moving towards the long grassed area that bathed in what sunlight that came through increasing mist overhead.

>Eyes squinted as he took another glance from over his shoulder, the Greccion stopped in place as his feline ears swiveled curiously at a distant noise way back.
"Heard sound, scuff on stone could be anything. Stay careful."
[1d6] B.Perception
[1d6]
[1d6] >R.E

>>26622526
>The spontaneous optical camouflage is still as odd a phenomenon as it was when he first encountered it.
>The Commando jokes to himself about this being early signs of Force sensitivity.
>Since the Greccion can conceal himself so effectively in this way, perhaps this is a world where everything just so happens to be Force-sensitive, he thinks.
>He quickly scolds himself once again, knowing that such breaks in focus will likely get him killed on this planet.
[1d6]<U. Stealth
[1d6]<U. Ambush
>Discovering more indications of the target's path, he quickly follows it closely, occasionally checking behind him to see if the Greccion is keeping up.
>It is not long before his haste is justified.
"Could be, but we can't afford to assume anything but the worst."
>As he glances back again, he sees the Greccion standing still, his ears in constant motion.
>Likely possessing a superior sense of hearing, and attempting to pinpoint the source of the noise.
>A useful ability. But only in less urgent circumstances.
"Keep moving, aruetii. We cannot let them catch up."
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]

>>26621389

[1d6] <Sunny
[1d6] <Thrill
[1d6] <Twisted Wing

>>26577171

"Me neither."
>Wrinkling her nose in agreement, Marble Leaf kicks her helmet back towards the tents, turning about and rumbling in irritation.
"We'll keep an eye out, but knowing those three they'll scrounge ten tons of food, ingredients, spices, and expect us to haul them back.."

>Staring straight ahead with blank eyes, Denra speaks up with a just-about-to-lose it tone.
"I... I need to go-"
>Spinning on hoof, an instant, burning wash of air occurs, as do multiple teleports in sequence, blurs of yellow heading directly at the new barracks.

>Taking on a world-weary expression, Hodch lazily clicks his teeth together another while his ears flick in thought.
"I imagine Pella could be a tad bit irritated if she thinks you were with another mare, so I do suggest taking a shower or bath.. you know, Denra did tell say he was trying to figure out what was carrying us and how, swore he could hear a heart beating, too. What most concerns me is whether or not she actually 'birthed' us.."
>Raising a hoof to eye the birthing fluid, a mix of disgruntled fascination and concern crossing his face, the deep purple unicorn sniffs at it once, then nods in a slow, sage manner.
"And I can state that indeed she did, this is definitely amniotic fluid. While I'm reasonably certain we've been ingesting her fluids at a rather small rate.. hmm, well, no matter, it won't cause any lasting harm. Good night to you, and please remember to keep this quiet."
>Offering a casual nod, the reservist casually snaps around, strolling towards the pagoda and humming without a care in the world, leaving you questioning what, precisely, the devious undertones of his statement was.

...

^

File: i'm out.gif (2MB, 277x342px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 277x342px

>>26627447
>Trying to shake off the maregoo, I fleck more on the ground around me.
>Someone will clean it up, I'm sure.
>Freezing in place, I turn to look at Hodch.
"..So, you're saying that she straight up gave birth to us? And this is..."
>A small hiccup of disgust goes through my throat.
"And we've been 'INGESTING' it?! Urgh...yeah, I think I don't want to let -anyone- know about this."
>You know, if I didn't find this so incredibly revolting, I would be laughing my ass off.
>At any rate...
>I very calmly start to walk towards the barracks' showers.
>By that, I mean I sprint towards them at the fastest pace I can, wanting to rid myself of the birthing fluids.
>A small thought occurs to me as I run, intent on taking one or eight showers.
>'Wait...did she say she enjoyed that?'

>After spending way too much time to be healthy in the showers, and feeling cleansed to the pore, I find myself faced with the daunting task of cleaning my weapons of the birthing fluids.
>Who knew oiled machinery and bio-fluids could mix and become a mega-oily and twice as hard to remove substance?
>After that, I take my current set of clothes (after removing all of my personal stuff that could be salvaged, and throwing the rest that couldn't away), and put it in a water-tight bag and place it in the hamper, with a note on top.
>The note reads 'Please don't ask what the fluids are- You don't want to know, and I -wish- I didn't know what they are.'
>After completing the minor process, I return to mine and my herd's room, collapsing on the bed, and nigh instantly passing out.
>A single fleeting thought about where Mist went passes through my mind before the grip of sleep overtakes me.

lazy night bump

>>26557782
>With his lips pulled in a flat line, Eric stares back.
"Right."
>He clears his throat.
"And it's the uhm... Intensity, ma'am."
>The man looks down at the plastic cases she had so conveniently popped open for him, lifting one of them to inspect it, glancing over the instructions and the contents.
"I'll pass. On both of those, I mean."
>He glances up with a slight, wry smile.
"I ah... Prefer keeping a clear head."
>He places the case back down and leans forward, forearms braced on his knees.
"But I guess, ah, where should I be getting started here? I'll be straight with you, I don't know what I'm doing here."

>>26581545
occasion
>Lying facedown on the stone to stew in building rage, disgust, and a morbid rising sense that he was being purposefully fucked with, the Cultist takes several minutes
to collect what few wits he wasn't sure he had left.
>Eventually rolling onto his back, he twists around and sits up, casting a mollified snarl onto the general vicinity as he stands.
>"If a single pony sees this I'm going to cut their legs off boil their hooves into glue and close their mouths PERMANENTLY-"
>Flipping a middle finger backwards at the hated circular torture cell, Corsen brushes himself off indignantly, then pulls out the map of Canterlot.
>Unfolding and glaring at it for a while, tracing a finger across the streets with great unease, he mutters in contempt, then begins seeking out the closest reputed den of villainy.
[1d6] <U.Scouting
[1d6+2] <Canterlot Map

>With that in mind, Surplus now had to find the pagoda.

>Some questions would point him in the right way, but still he was worried. Exiting the fortress would be his first excursion out into the Everfree.

>Alone.

>Now he was worried. Caliya had warned him about going off alone, but at the same time, Sweets had gone off alone. And she wasn't in the best of states.

>One man rescue mission? Perhaps?

>Citadel Doctor Heartbeat

>>26608780
>>26608884

"That is fine."
>Eyes flicking at you, Heartbeat's nose briefly wiggles in thought, reaching up with a knee to rub her chin, her tone becoming vaguely timid.
"There are.. numerous factors which prevent me from fulfilling this request properly. First, I have not met both affiliates as they have not returned to the Citadel for some time. Secondly, General Twisted Wing is one's mate, and Brawler Belltower is the other's. Due to the position of the medical ward, I may only see them twice per year, each for less than five minutes of time, and I have neither the ability to impose demands on them, nor am I allowed to operate outside my jurisdiction. Third.."
>Motioning with her head towards Eleyana, the Citadel Doctor rolls her eyes without malice in her tone.
"I am training my replacement alchemist, one that has her head higher in the clouds than any pegasus.. except, perhaps, for Lucky. Fourthly, upon hearing that a non-Starborn affiliate accessed the Citadel and was promptly thrown into a fully one-sided confrontation.. with me being the chief doctor, you can see where this is going. I thought that an 'interactive learning experience', to quote a certain hedonist, would provide more informative in an informal, non-hostile setting. Treating a patient, opening dialogue with said patient, studying their respective injuries to a satisfactory level, or lack thereof, checking one's books for second opinions, and then finding a third opinion from another doctor is not exactly standard procedure, for myself, however, that is personal preference."
>Placing her hoof down, Heartbeat tilts her back, the corners of her lips curling up in a small, amused motion.
"As well, one does not encounter a thinking, feeling Otherworldly sentient that is not a maddened slavering beast or high ranking threat very often, you know."

Panic bump.

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

1 AMBUSH TOKEN FOR THUNDER-RAVEN!

>>26622923
"Movement, sound of metal and hoof. Many, enemy patrol certain."
>After lowering his profile he followed you closer to the long grass, ears still facing backwards.

>Now a few feet from the edge of the grass, you could hear the sound of something munching from within the grass's interior, most likely your prey.
>However, movement from your right stole your attention and turning to look you saw a predator of sorts stalking low near the grass too.
>It appeared to be a mostly canine, apart from its six legs.
>Looking back, you could see the edges of helmeted ponies coming into view.
>From what you could tell, they appeared to be equipped in lighter armour then what you have already seen, their movement suggesting they too were hunting something.

[1d6] >On the Rails
[1d6] >Damage

>>26639354
"I doubt we could take them all out at once."
>As effective as it would be, the Clone does not wish to expend another detpack. Priming it would give them time to close in, and the sound could easily attract more enemies.
>Target is in close proximity.
>Local wildlife poses competition.
>Its strange appearance steals his attention for a moment, before he thinks about what the best course of action would be.
>Blasters are a no-go, the sound would give their position away.
>If it is allowed to kill the target for them, the creature could then turn its attention to the pair, or steal the corpse.
>Eliminating the competing predator and hiding its corpse inside the concealment of the grass would solve one of their two problems and leave no trace for the enemies to follow.
>If done efficiently and quickly, the target should be an easy kill from there.

>The Commando relays this plan to the Greccion, his voice hushed as he spots the enemy.
>Reduced armour - befitting of a scout. They are definitely on their tail.
"Target nearby. Predator in proximity. Aruetii, you take the predator and hide yourself and its body in the grass, and I will eliminate the target."
>With the current situation analysed, he starts to think about what to do from there.
>There is little they can do besides continuing to escape. The proximity of the scouts indicates that they have been able to keep a faster pace.
>If the pair can leave no trace, a change of course could throw the scouts off.
>Alternatively, a trace may be left in another direction, leading them on the trail of a target that is not there.

>After another moment of consideration, he judges that too much relies on chance in the former possibility.
"From there, I will leave traces of blood that indicate we have moved, while we instead leave in another direction. The scouts should follow that instead."

>>26640375
>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

AMBUSH TOKEN(S): 1, THUNDER-RAVEN!

>Although his head and ears did not change direction, he gave a cautious nod as he continued to stare at the approaching group of ponies.
"What if hunt predator not us?"
>His voice was barely audible as he finally back stepped slightly closer to you, the shimmering made by his movement masked by the wind rustled brushes.
"If hunting us, would be Order forces like before, these ponyfolk arm with simple things."
>In full view now could you see that their equipment was drastically more mundane than the equines you faced earlier on, but what they didn't make up in strength, they made up in numbers you saw.
>Ten at least, the lead pony halting at catching sight of the humped back of the canine beast ahead of them, they talking in a determined bray.
[Order] "????"
[1d6+3] E.Leadership (Melee)
[1d6+3]
[1d6+3]


>>26636716
>Canterlot: Venous

>With a scowling face that could crack stone, you could not see a single living being, pony or otherwise nearby.
>Good.
>Or bad.
>Whatever God was playing with your mind at the moment.
>As you angrily stomped your feet into the darkened streets of this part of Canterlot did you feel the hair on thee nap of your neck stand on end as you visualized the incorporeal being in the Translocation Stone judgingly stare at your back as you receded deeper into the city.

>After a while of following the map, you realize the light granted by the dim lamps and housing did not help that much when it came to deciphering the finer details of the map.
>Looking up from the held piece of paper, you found yourself at dried up fountain quarter the size of Duo's, its insides filled with more edible weeds than flamboyant flowers.
>Before you ripped the map into pieces, your brain flicked on.
>Checking, you see that this was a landmark on the map, and you were three blocks away from the Brothel, easily traversed by following a straight line.
>Easy enough.

>
"Where is he?!"

>>26641039
>A clearer look at the pursuers confirms the Greccion's observation.
>The difference in equipment is large. Perhaps too large for scouts. A scout team would also be much smaller.
"You may be right, aruetii, but our position is still at risk."
>They may be civilians, but the pair still need their target.

>From their reaction to the sight of the canine, the group appear to be hunting that instead.
>Moving into the grass may draw their attention, given their position, and have them mistake the two for additional prey.
>If the pair move away and leave the group alone, it is possible that they will eliminate the competing predator for them.
>It is unknown if they will attack the pair's target, however, if they even notice it among the grass. If so, they will need to be subdued, and the prey taken from them for their own use.
>That would use up the Commando's final EC Detonator.
>Although, the situation would justify it, and the group is likely to leave as one, bunched up and maximising the grenade's potential.
"We will break off and give them some space. If they are here for the canine, we can let them take it out of the situation for us, but we will need to steal the body of the target if they kill it, too."

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

AMBUSH TOKEN(S): 1, THUNDER-RAVEN!

>>26641343
>Staying silent for a pregnant moment, the Greccion finally agreed.
"Slip deeper away from them."

>As he confirmed your plan, the ponies splintered off into two groups, five staying to their original path, while the other five appeared to be fading away while stalking off into the opposite side of the forest than where you were at.
[1d6+3] B.Stealth
[1d6+3]

[1d6+2] E.Stealth
[1d6+2]
[1d6+2]

[1d6+1] B.Stealth
[1d6+1]

[1d6+3] U.Stealth

[1d6+3] M.Stealth
[1d6+3]
[1d6+3]
[1d6+3]

vs

[1d6+3] >Senses

>>26639999
What a waste of good trips...

>>26642945
i believe those be quads

File: 1402195405598.gif (2MB, 325x183px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 325x183px

Aha! OiE! I see you are still alive!
You have survived my continuous onslaughts, far longer than any foe so far!
Prepare for yet another assault from my unrelenting hive!

[1d6+300] <The Bee Swarm

>>26641904
>As the Commando backs away, he watches the group split up.
>One team to take the canine, while the other moves away with some unknown goal.
>They do not appear to also be after the pair's target, but they will need to stay cautious in case they return.
>As they go, they vanish from sight. Witnessing the Greccion do it is one thing, but to see so many also pull it off adds some validity to his earlier thoughts.

>He, of course, lacks such an ability. Attempting to hide himself as best he can as he backs off, he moves slowly to reduce the impact any falter in the concealment may have.
[1d6]<U. Stealth
[1d6]<U. Ambush
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]

File: tumblr_nxwbmjaDSe1ui8eemo1_1280.jpg (62KB, 1280x660px) Image search: [Google]

62KB, 1280x660px

>>26644092
>>26646550

File: McKZRjx.jpg (71KB, 540x405px) Image search: [Google]

71KB, 540x405px

>pic related operator when?

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

AMBUSH TOKEN(S): 2, THUNDER-RAVEN!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkSzne1Esg4

>>26646701
>Even though you had no such inherit ability that appeared to be readily available to every other inhabitant of this planet, you too, once again found yourself slipping deep into the unidentifiable plain that lay right outside of corporal space.
>With your being hidden under the veil like every other sentient within the vicinity, you could not see the Greccion move, but knew he too was following suit and was taking care in his step to melt away from the immediate fight that was about to take place.

>While you were busying yourself in making sure your steps did not falter and thus break your concealment, you did not catch the canine creature turning on its axis to confront the approaching hunting party after catching wiff of them, its two browless orange eyes honing in on two of the stalking five ponies.
>Its sleek fur coat changed coarse as said coat stood on end in attention, a defensive tactic to make itself appear larger to enemies you wagered.

>The equines however were not fooled by this, and with a plethora of nets and side-mounted spears did the five charge at the cornered animal, whom in turn lashed out with flailing swipes after a surprisingly large leap produced from its hindlegs.
[1d6+2] >Visible ponies
[1d6+2]
vs
[1d6+6] >Canine Calamity
[1d6+6]
[1d6+6]
[1d6+6]
vs
[1d6+3] >Invisible ponies
[1d6+3]
[1d6+3]

>>26650430
>Somehow, the Commando is able to disappear from view to an effective degree.
>It's useful and it seems to work, so he can do without questioning it for now.
>The predator turns its attention to the approaching hunters, and both sides attack.
>If the fight progresses and moves to a sufficient distance, he and the Greccion may be able to eliminate their target and move on.
>He continues to watch as it unfolds.
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

AMBUSH TOKEN(S): 2, THUNDER-RAVEN!

>>26650779
>The beast's counterattack took the two poorly concealed ponies off guard, and so when swinging claws and gnashing teeth met their hastily preparing defenses were they beaten back by a few feet into some unsavory thrushes. Hunter Pony#1&2 90/100HP

>With its back completely exposed, the three invisible ponies broke out of stealth at the flanked creature, driving their spears and shortswords at its limbs. 492/500HP

>Spinning in wild circles did the animal fling its bleeding limbs at its attackers, stubby but sharp claws and serrated teeth coming into contact with the lightly armoured ponies.
[1d6+6] >Canine catastrophe
[1d6+6]
[1d6+6]
[1d6+6]
vs
[1d6+2] Hunter Pony#1
[1d6+2] Hunter Pony#2
[1d6+2] Hunter Pony#3
[1d6+2] Hunter Pony#4
[1d6+2] Hunter Pony#5

>As you watched on, you took note that the other ponies that disappeared into the undergrowth did not show up yet to aid their brethren in this rapidly devolving fight.
>Glancing back into the long grass, you could not see tail nor ear of the herbivore previously grazing inside its thick realm, it presumably scared off by the sudden fight between hunters and hunter.
>Raising your profile carefully to cast your visor into the thickness of the greenery, you saw that a pathway had formed where the prey animal had run off too, leaving a literal corridor for you to follow.

>>26651699
>The hunters appear to be having a tough time with their prey.
>While it goes against his earlier decisions and actions, trying to help them is only going to expose the pair, and in their current statuses, it is a risk not worth taking.
>In addition, the others have not returned to provide support. Should they do so, the pair's assistance will be unnecessary.

>A look into the grass reveals a trail to the target, having fled due to the outbreak of combat.
>Following this parting would not disturb the grass, and thus would not indicate their presence within.
"The target has run away, but it has left a path through the grass. If we move now, aruetii, we can track it down while these hunters are distracted without drawing attention to ourselves."
>Allowing the fight to finish may result in the hunters following the trail as well. If they do so after the pair track down their target, they will still be able to escape with its body and leave a fake trail as the Clone planned before.
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]

[1d20] <RAGE
[1d20] <IS IT CAN BE BLEND TIME NAO
[1d20] <TIME4ANGER
[1d20] <Not Even Shibe Can Halps
[1d20] <Totally not a secret.... okay, maybe a little bit.

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

AMBUSH TOKEN(S): 2, THUNDER-RAVEN!

>>26651943
>From a spectators standpoint, the maniacal flailing of the canines legs appeared to be a ferocious and deterring tactic, however hunting party of ponies were close enough and numerous that the forces dealt were absorbed by their unflinching positions.

>As you scanned the sea of green for any hint of the animal, just in case it was nearby, the wall of grass closest to the ensuing battle was battered down by a stampede of hooves as the other five ponies charged into combat, they braying out in their native tongues.

[1d6+10] Hunter Pony Group#1
[1d6+10] Hunter Pony Group#2
vs
[1d6+24] >Canine Carnage

"Look opening now in front us, enter in no notice or trace. Come."
>Not one to risk all that has been achieved thus far, the Greccion took tentative limping steps towards the gaping hole that led access into the long grass, his breath short and ears sharp.
[1d6] B.Perception
[1d6]
[1d6] >R.E

secret niggers

no secret niggers?

>Rasera, Traveling Merchant

>>26616342

>Turning her head back partway, Naliyna only manages to express an 'I'm a bit impressed, but something is still wrong here' look of partial surprise.
"I suppose that makes some sense. Do you even save anything just in case something bad happens like.. I dunno, get fired, break a leg, need to pay for a one way trip to Ewerup to flee from a bunch of angry minotaur cows, or anything else?"
>Without waiting for a response, she returns to gaze up at the still as-of-yet-unknown and unconscious human with a doubtful nose wiggle, motioning at Japoneighse mare, then herself, and finally at Spruce with a questioning ear wiggle, receiving little more than an awkward, dumbfounded widening of her eyes and a slow, confused tilt of Rasera's head.
>Halfway covering an irritated sigh with a background hum, the Crystal mare directs the blanket off the human, then the human off the stack of futons while spinning on hoof, then nods quickly at Aster and Blitz, skate-floating towards the clinic afterwards.
"Try not to drive her crazy, mad, off, or anything else for that matter, I've a feeling she has other stuff for sale that WON'T be easy to barter down-"

>Shifting from side to side on her hooves, Rasera quickly assumes a friendly, if still very much timid, smile at the remaining pair, leaning over the sign to triple check the request, finally offering an 'acceptable' shake of her mane, which seemed to be about the only Equestrian body language she knew.
>Promptly high trotting in place, the spindly sable mare appears to set out another pair of stands, leaping up and headbutting the A-Rank futons off, with considerable difficulty.
>Satisfied that the first two were out of the way, Rasera turns about with a bright cast to her face, motioning for Aster and Blitz to.. what they confusedly realize is a very strangely phrased series of bodily movements that make a request:
>"Assume please the position."
>...

File: 1455541180382.jpg (222KB, 600x600px) Image search: [Google]

222KB, 600x600px

>>26655934
Rasera's special offer to Tibbles.

>>26653100
>The battle continues, and the second group emerges from the grass.
>Waiting has proven to be the optimal course of action.
>All of the hunters' locations are now known, and they are all occupied.
>It is now safe to slip past.

>The Commando immediately begins to move, without really focusing on the Greccion confirming what he has already thought.
>He keeps his form low, but still moves with haste, occasionally checking behind him to ensure the Greccion is keeping up and to observe the fight, for little reason other than to stay aware of his surroundings.
>His earlier concern about civilians cannot be afforded in this situation.
[1d6]<B. Perception
[1d6]

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

AMBUSH TOKEN(S): 2, THUNDER-RAVEN!

>>26657218
>The Greccion was lagging a few feet behind as you entered the grass, your wide vision suddenly being reduced to a corridor.
>Outside the long grass you could see the edge of the fighting, they ponies and the predatory animal exchanging blows but none leaving any impact to each party.
>For a single beast, it was putting up quite the fight.

>Inside the new terrain, you saw where the other pony party came from, they circumventing around hazardous bushes by trudging through here, leaving a trail of where they entered from.
>But this trail was not connected to the trail left by the prey, in fact a slither of grass wall was between you and the wanted tracks.

>>26659415
>As the distance between the two and the fight increases, the Commando gradually quickens his pace, taking care not to leave the Greccion too far behind.
>The view of the hunters soon diminishes.
>So many, having such trouble with one target...either it is a very fearsome target, or these hunters have an alarming lack of expertise.
>Given his experiences so far, the latter option is very plausible.

>The trail left by the backup team is visible, but thankfully distinguished from the path to the target by a few undisturbed blades of grass.
>Putting the fight out of mind now that the two are leaving the viscinity, the Commando continues down the path left by their prey.

>Order Territory: The Wounded Greccion

AMBUSH TOKEN(S): 2, THUNDER-RAVEN!

>>26660473
>Making sure that your breakthrough of the separating grass was not too apparent, you soon find yourself in where the herbivore was originally grazing before it being startled.
>The ground was cleared of grass where you stood, meaning the animal was quite efficient in gathering cud.
>Which also meant it would have a large bulbous stomach to digest such quantities of food, making it a bigger target for you.

>Crouch walking through the afforded corridor for a couple of metres, the sound of battle was just about to leave your hearing when your path was abruptly halted by an intact wall of grass.
>Coughing behind you, the Greccion snaked around your side to investigate what was happening.
"Where it go, something big can't disappear without trace like this."
[1d6] B.Perception
[1d6]
[1d6] >R.E