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Pony_Sage

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Everything posted by Pony_Sage

  1. There are no miracles. There are only men.

  2. If the road is easy, the destination is worthless.

    1. leapman

      leapman

      Never heard an analogy like that before. :)

    2. Pony_Sage

      Pony_Sage

      Proverbs of Saint Sabbat.

    3. leapman

      leapman

      Did not know will check it out :D

  3. I long for death, not because I seek peace, but because I seek the war eternal.

  4. Ponies united in the purpose of the Empress are blessed in Her sight and shall live forever in Her memory.

    1. Harv0kz

      Harv0kz

      Hail the Emprass.

  5. One would be surprised by how much simple cable management can improve airflow and make your computer more efficient at cooling the MoBo, GPU, and CPU. ~Sage
  6. A man can walk into heresy with both eyes open, yet remain blessedly ignorant of his sin. This is why no cry of innocence, no matter how heartfelt or genuine can ever be considered.

  7. Up in the first post there is a link to the website of the company that I had build it for me. Falcon Nortwest is that company. Their customer support is amazing and their attention to detail is top notch. If you are in the market for a performance machine, I would suggest no other company. I stand by their products 120%. ~Sage P.S. Sorry about your computer getting eaten by a pawn shop, times are hard all around, and I hope that you pick up one soon!
  8. Hello everyone. I am not one to make frivolous posts, or that many posts to begin with. However I think there is a piece of technology that often gets overlooked and under appreciated. It may be the subject of your ire at times but it has been there for you through thick and thin. It shows you funny pictures and videos, prints your papers, remembers your name and your birthday, and even doesn't judge you for how messy your room is. That's right this Thanksgiving season I think we should take a moment to thank our computers for all they put up with, and everything they do for us. Maybe treat them to a few cans of air and blow out that dust you have been ignoring! Pretty much this thread lets you post your rig's stats, what you have personally done to improve your computer, some benchmarks if you have them, and maybe a few pictures! My girl is a custom built Falcon Nortwest Talon. Her birthday is October 31st of this year, barely a month old! I do have to say that she was absurdly expensive, but worth every penny. I rationalized the purchase as an early birthday, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Festivus, Hearth's Warming Eve present ... for the next few years. Behind this spoiler tag are the components from the invoice of what I had built. 3D Mark has a great software for testing your computer's graphics card(s). The best part is that it is free to use from steam! If you haven't benchmarked your computer yet, and would like to be able to brag about your scores, head over to steam and download the program! Ice Storm - 188,945 Cloud Gate - 29,625 Fire Strike - 9,223 The scores follow the names and the links will provide a breakdown of how they stack up against other computers that were tested. I have recently overclocked the core i7 CPU from its base clock of 3.5 GHz to 4.5 GHz, that's a 24% improvement! The scores reflect CPU in it's overclocked state. I have yet to overclock the GPU, however. I am contemplating this but honestly since I am running two GeForce GTX 760's SLIed together, I don't feel it is necessary for gaming. Although, I know that the scores would increase if I overclocked them and ran the benchmark again. At the moment I can throw pretty much any game at my girl on the highest settings and it never falls below 60 FPS. I have it limited at 60 so that it won't over tax the GPU and allow for more physics calculations rather than just increasing the FPS. Now for some photos! Please excuse the quality, but here she is. My baby. Well, that's pretty much that. Just figured I would start a thread about giving thanks to the computers that we take for granted every day. (Maybe to brag a little, but what else is a proud owner to do!?) Happy Thanksgiving everyone. ~Sage
  9. Turning the weapons of the enemy against him is, of course, of grave danger to one’s soul. It is nonetheless a satisfying thing to see.

    1. Duskfall

      Duskfall

      In actual military operations, the use of enemy weapons is against protocol. This is to prevent situations where allied forces think you are the enemy because you are firing off enemy weapons.

    2. SteelEagle

      SteelEagle

      Somewhat incorrect, Duskfall. Special forces units have a proud tradition of using the weapons of their enemy while behind enemy lines. However, it is against SOP to use the enemy's weapons for standard military forces.

    3. Dio

      Dio

      A gun is just a gun, but the Warp takes on a life of its own.

  10. Veracity was starting to understand Figment’s personality a little more so than she had initially. He was not nearly as cruel as most other changelings that she had heard reports of, this one seemed rather industrious. She listened to his concerns, both about feeding and blowing his cover. Although she had no experience with an undercover operation, she surmised that it was a heap of work to come up with an entirely new identity. She thought about his questions for a brief moment, counting in her head. ‘Two twenty five, two twenty six, two twenty seven ...’ Her mind ticked with the precision of a pocket watch. Aboard the Moral Constraints alarm bells had sounded; about two and a half minutes ago. The signalstallion of the watch had first seen the distress signal and sounded the alarms. Apparently the Captain was in trouble and it was their job to rescue her. As the crystal on Veracity’s end broke, the receiver aboard the ship sprung to life, pinpointing her location down to a margin of error of only a few meters. This new distress beacon was truly a work of art which had been the last piece of new technology installed in the old frame while it was laid up for retrofitting. This system had come directly from some of Canterlot’s brightest minds. Apparently it worked on the principle of Aetheric Quantum Entanglement, something that one of those eggheads in that Gifted Unicorn school surely thought up. However, it did have its practical uses. Basically one a set of crystals were paired with a main crystal that was aboard the Moral Constraints; integrated well within the system. These paired crystals would have an influence upon the ship’s crystal through interactions within the aetheric plane. When the sending crystal was moved, the receiving crystal would move accordingly, albeit in a drastically reduced manner. It was on this idea that the tracking system came about. Through a series of very complicated mechanical systems, that reduced movement was transferred to a pointer that would move over a map of the local area. This allows for constant monitoring of the sender’s location. The eggheads even thought up an emergency protocol. If the sender was in danger, all they had to do was smash the crystal. This would cause a rather vigorous reaction to the ship’s crystal and set off an integrated alarm system, along with locking the position where it was smashed onto the map. From that point forward it would be the crew’s job to get the ship where it needed to go. As a matter of course, the Captain’s distress signal was treated with the utmost importance. Whether it was a drill or an actual emergency did not matter, the crew was ready to do what they had to so that the ship would arrive within the seven minutes that the Navigator said that they would. The navigators, engineers, helmsstallions, and all the other departments of the ship were feeding information to the Captain of the Watch. Hopefully he was up for the job. As the information flooded in, the mooring lines were cast off and the ship rocked slightly as the ARG tank was charged. The Moral Constraints was underway. The ship slowly rose out of the frigid water, ice clinging to its bow. The Halo engines quickly revved up to peak efficiency as the props began to spin up. The Captain of the watch reached over the helms-stallions shoulder and pushed the engine order telegraph past Ahead Full to Flank speed. While flank speed was a tad risky, owing to overheating and fuel consumption, the extra boost in velocity would be well worth it. The flank speed order rang in the engine room and the engineers went to their stations, double timed. As the fires were stoked, and the boilers began to build up pressure, the Chief Engineer opened the giant butterfly valve that would divert the steam into the superheater. By doing this they could achieve a higher pressure and thus greater speeds could be coaxed out of the engines. The Halo engines began to sing in pleasure as the extra pressure was fed into them. Efficiency was down twenty percent, but RPMs were up thirty. Seemed like a fair trade if the Captain was in danger. Another engineer rotated some valves that would allow for the port and starboard fan nacelles to rotate over their prescribed limits, thus increasing both maneuverability and speed. The crew was working like they should. A well oiled machine designed for one purpose, to fly airships. As orders were given and information received, the Moral constraints was steadily rising to cruising altitude and quickly gaining speed. “Seventy! Eighty! Ninety!” The helms-stallion was calling out the ship’s calculated ground speed. “One ten! One twenty! One thirty!” The numbers steadily rose until they were slightly above the ship’s true maximum speed. While they sped towards Veracity’s location, the detachment of the ISU-143 “Molot” was being prepped for takeoff. These stallions weren’t nicknamed the “Sledgehammers” or “Molot” for no reason. They were the tough of the tough. A special crack team organized for fast boarding actions against pirate vessels. They donned their armour and steeled their nerves, unsure of what awaited them once they reached their destination. Every precaution was being taken for this encounter, even the loading of the main weapons. The twin forward mounted cannons had their shells diligently loaded into them by the gunners. The sights were aligned, mechanicals checked and rechecked, articulation tested, and rounds counted. These beasts were the very, very last resort for the crew. None of the ponies on board were very fond of the idea of having them be featured so prominently on the bow of the ship, but they resigned themselves to the fact that they would be very useful as deterrents. The Empress may protect, but a loaded cannon never hurt. These two cannons were rather special. They had been cast especially for the Moral Constraints, nothing like them was in common use at the moment. With a sustainable rate of fire around two hundred and sixty rounds per minute and firing one hundred and eighty degrees out of phase, this afforded for a rate of fire somewhere near five hundred and twenty round per minute. The effective range of four kilometers and a muzzle velocity of seven hundred eighty meters per second also didn’t hurt. If the crew never had to use these monsters it would be far too soon, but as the old adage goes, “Walk softly but carry a big stick.” And these were the biggest sticks around. Veracity smiled before answering the diminutive changeling. “Well, the legal process is mroe of a formality, I would assume. They will most likely declare a sentence of banishment and just have you shipped back to the hive. Your cover will be blown, to an extent. I would guess, especially with your new plan being discussed, that only the higher ranking officers and officials in Stalliongrad would know about who you pretend to be. I doubt that they would post wanted pictures all over just for one or two measly changelings that had already been deported.” All the while Veracity kept a cheerful tone and counted in her head. ‘Three ten, three eleven, three twelve.’ Somehow she had to keep them busy for at least seven more minutes. “As for your feedings, I honestly don’t know how they work or what specifics behind them are, but I would gladly offer you a small ration of whatever you would need to take from me to survive. Although I might not be the best candidate. From what I hear, you guys feed on love and the like. I’m afraid that my days of love and romance are far behind me, and I am not the most … motherly of mares.” She allowed for a slight chuckle at this thought. ‘Three forty four, three forty five, three forty six.’ The Moral Constraints was fast approaching the Kuznitza District where the beacon had last been active. The problem was, if they wanted to stop in time, they would have to start slowing down before they got anywhere near the district. The inherent problem with airships was that they took a very long time to slow down, unless one was to do something dangerous or rather stupid. The second problem would be finding which exact warehouse or building Captain Veracity was hold up in. This would be the part that took the most time. The standard operating procedure would be to blanket the area with recon teams and do a grid search until they found the signs of the captain and then piece things together from there. However with the advent of the crystals, their search was much more narrow. As the eggheads had kindly reminded the crew, the crystals were accurate to within 500 meters. That was still a lot of ground to cover, but it was less than the old method. The Moral Constraints was slowing down now, they would arrive at their destination on the far side of the Kuznitza District, bordering on the Veya district, within four minutes. The detachment of the Molot was ready to go and the recon teams were on deck in formation awaiting orders. They were working like a well oiled machine. Veracity patiently listened to Figment speak to the bureaucrat, talking about how he would be too weak to cover a retreat or attack. Then the little changeling made an all too obvious allusion to running, Veracity couldn't help but internally chuckle at how blatant he was. Before she could ask any further questions or make any more offers the ever increasingly annoying finally made his move. He ordered the mare to stand down and move away in a manner that would allow for his escape.Veracity’s mind was awash with alternate scenarios on how this was going to play out. From her combat days all the tactics came back for avoiding magic spells. ‘Four thirty, four thirty one, four thirty two.’ Her mind kept ticking like a watch. The first order of business was to identify the source of the spell. ‘Check.’ Then one would identify the type of spell being cast. This could be tricky if the spell wasn’t cast yet, however there were some old methods that might work. The colour wasn’t all that helpful but the smell is what tipped her off. Being a pegasus as soon as she smelled the ozone that the spell was giving off she knew that electricity would be involved in some manner. The courses of action changed in the mare’s head. There were two ways to play this. She could either quickly drive her sword into the floor, providing an easy path to ground for the energy, and then throw her hat at the changeling which would most likely disorient him. She would then use this advantage to shoulder check the annoying changeling into the nearby wall. Or, she could just play along. She could look scared, play the damsel in distress. She would keep letting the superbly annoying changeling think he has the upperhand. She had been doing this from the start, allowing him to think that he was somehow in control. ‘Four fifty nine, Five, five one, five two, five three.’ His timing couldn’t have been any better. If she played this slowly enough, the ship would arrive with time to spare. Even if he did manage to escape the building, the scouts that would be scouring the area would find him more than easily and take him into custody. That was if the ISU didn’t catch him first, which would then lead to the changeling most likely getting a rather hardy introduction to the finer points of combat. The Moral Constraints was almost at a full stop now, she had been slowing down for the past two minutes, and they were only about a minute away from deployment. The Officer of the Watch started a countdown timer at T- 00h:02m:30s. The tension was palpable as the crew readied for combat maneuvers. The ISU detachment was standing on the gunwales with their rappelling ropes at the ready. The recon teams were warming up their wings and doing final checks of their gear and feathers. At T- 00h:02m:00s a bell sounded and a voice came over the loudspeaker informing the crew to be at their battle stations. The flight squads took off and began to form up around the Moral Constraints scanning the ground below for obvious signs of trouble and waiting for their mark. Everypony on board was beyond tense as the clock slowly ticked down. Veracity put on her best intimidated face, not something that she was accustomed to doing, as she eyed the changeling for a few moments. ‘Five ten, five eleven, five twelve.’ Four more minutes, give or take. She hoped that the crystal as intended but she didn’t need to hope that her crew knew what to do. She trusted those stallions and mares with her life, and they with hers. She knew that they were prepared for any eventuality and would be there promptly to bail her out of any jam. She just hoped that the egghead unicorns had made the crystals work properly. The mare complied with the changeling’s requests, albeit very slowly. She was waiting out the clock and it was working. ‘Five twenty nine, five thirty, five thirty one.’ Little did she know that the ship was only about two minutes out from her position, way ahead of schedule, and the flight recon teams were chomping at the bit to deploy as she thought five thirty. If that slimy changeling were to run, he would most likely be caught. Even if he managed to change into pony form, the crew would detain anypony in the area, not releasing them until the captain was found, or they were satisfied that the pony in question wasn't the culprit. As Veracity placed her hooves on the wall she allowed herself a small smirk. This changeling didn’t know what he had gotten himself into.
  11. Do not presume to judge me or the methods I choose to employ, petty-minded fool. You cannot comprehend the magnitude of the task I have undertaken nor the consequences of my failure.

  12. We are at War with forces too terrible to comprehend. We cannot afford mercy for any of its victims too weak to take the correct course. Mercy destroys us; it weakens us and saps our resolve. Put aside all such thoughts. They are not worthy of Officers in the service of Our Empess. Praise Her name for in our resolve we only reflect her purpose of will.

  13. Rivet smiled and shook her head gently. ‘Such a nice pony.’ She thought to herself. She lifted a hoof as she turned to leave, waving it in a manner that suggested goodbye and sleep tight. The little mare had a lot of work to do this evening, she would not only have to take care of the lighthouse, but she would actually have to work on something that wasn’t a pet project. She had butterflies in her stomach, as she always did when undertaking a new project. Her mind was racing with thoughts and ideas of how to finish the items in a more timely manner. If she pushed herself, she could most likely finish the first, more simple, brace before Martel would awake the next morning. This is the goal that she set for herself, she wanted to surprise him in the morning with a brand new shiny brace. After Rivet left the bedroom she giddily pranced about in a small circle before slipping off her typewriter and taking off to her workbench. Sure it would be a long sleepless night, but the look on Martel’s face would be entirely worth the sleep deprivation. Rivet set about her work, she began gathering the supplies that she would require, along with some that she might not need, often referring back to the schematics that she had drawn up earlier. Hopefully the sound of the engines churning, the water boiling, and the general cacophony of steam workings coupled with her tinkering wouldn't keep Martel up for too long; he had seemed very tired from his arduous trip.
  14. ‘Finally, at least one of them is seeing some form of reason.’ The seasoned military mare thought to herself. The bedraggled changeling returned her hoof shake, a good sign. She crooked her fetlock joint around his and sternly shook it up and down two or three times before returning to her regular standing position. While she was speaking to Figment as he said his name was, the other much more annoying changeling was trying to rebuke her statements. However now he was showing a more amiable side which Veracity found to be rather suspect. She raised one of her eyebrows in obvious disbelief of how the bureaucrat was acting. Turning her attention back towards Figment she began to answer his request. “Unfortunately I can not do that for you. As I said, you both will be returned to your home hive unharmed, but you both do need to be processed through the judicial system and your activities reported. the vast majority of ponies still see you as criminals, which is reasonable. However if you make a gesture of good faith and turn yourselves in, can assure you that no harm will befall you.” She spoke with authority but this time there was more concern than ire in her voice. The next thing that the bureaucrat said piqued her interest even more. ‘A plan to harvest sustenance from us, Hrm. This might have been a more valuable catch than I had initially thought.’ The mare surmised. However again, this changeling wanted to slip through the cracks. He thought he was being crafty, however, Veracity by virtue of being older than most others thought, had worked with slippery delinquents before. “Now, I didn’t catch your name. However in response to your suggestion I can not do this either. If you do have a plan for this, it would be much more prudent to speak of this with the authorities here first, don’t you think Figment? I mean it’s not worth telling your Queen about if it wouldn’t work out in the first place, that would just make you look like a bad agent. At least that’s what I would think, how about you Figment?” She gently smiled as she tried her hoof at playing the two changeling s off of one another. She had an inkling that Figment would be much easier to sway to her point of view than the other would be. “So, down to business. I am going to call my ship shortly. I would recommend not making any sudden movements around my crew, along with not speaking unless you are spoken to. You will be sharing a vacant crewman’s cabin together, and there will be a guard at the door. I am not sure about your dietary needs however. Would regular pony food suffice? Or would you need something different? Arrangements can be made if that is needed. The judicial system here may be different from your own, but I assure you that above all else it is fair. Along with that I will make sure that you receive the most fitting legal counsel that can be found.” As she spoke she pulled out a small crystal from her uniform pocket and placed it on the ground. With one swift stomp she crushed the pale pink crystal into smithereens. “By my guess it will take about fifteen minutes or so for the Moral Constraints to get here. Do you have any questions about the procedures or formalities that you are about to encounter? I’m not a lawyer but I can answer some of the more simple questions.” Veracity faintly smiled. She had lied about the time frame, the ship would arrive most likely in under ten minutes. She would much rather the two be kept on their toes than them getting the upperhoof on her.
  15. There is a tag in the front that states it to be a final draft, I shall append one in the topic however. I will comply with removing human years, although I would like to at least state the reason for using them. They are a rather solid metric of describing in a succinct way how an individual will act in general. Think of this, an adult is a very broad age range. Within this range there are arguably eighteen year olds all the way up to, let us say, seventy year olds. Now that is a drastic range of different life experiences. There are no seventy year olds that act like twenty year olds, that I personally know at least. The human years are and analogue, meaning that he is not thirty, since we don't know how long ponies live for or how they age; instead it means that he acts similarly to how the average thirty year old would act. He shares the similar life experiences (relationships, responsibilities, trials, and tribulations) to an average human thirty year old. While I understand why there is a need to not say how old the ponies are in the chronological year sense, for the aforementioned reasons, I feel that the age metric still holds true for personality. I will indulge this rule however and rearrange the application as you have suggested, but I just wanted to explain why it was there in the first place. ~Sage
  16. Rivet smiled as she made up her bed for the stallion. With a courteous smile and a shake of her head the typewriter sprung to life, tapping out a message for Martel. “No, no burden. Stay up all hours, tinker, make sure light stays on, stoke fires. Rarely sleep for more than 2 hours at a clip. Take rest, had long trip. I will start work on brace. Keeps me busy! Breakfast around 08:00, be hungry!” The note floated idly for Martel. Rivet, although rather shy and not all that much for crowds, honestly enjoyed the company. It made her feel as though she was doing her job, even more so than usual. Most of the time, when she thought about her circumstances, she felt as though she was a very privileged mare. She had a cushy job in a nice location and could pursue her passions to their fullest extent. Sometimes she felt as though her public service job was less public service and more self service. Of course the lighthouse played a very important role in keeping the sea ponies safe, she knew that, but feelings can be capricious things. Having this stallion in her home, asking for her help, and taking refuge there for the time being made her feel that it was all worth it in the end. As rivet finished making her bed, and folding the clothes that she sometimes left in a heap upon the bed, she remembered that she needed to tell Martel how to contact her if he needed help. ‘Rivet, I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re a savant. You forget the silliest things but can remember the most complicated things.’ With a smile and a hoof held up in a one moment posture she began to type again. “If you need help, want to talk, have a question, just talk into this horn. It is linked to tubes that transfer noise from all over the property. Lets me listen to the machines while I sleep, incase something happens. Like they blow up again. Works both ways though, just call, and I’ll come up and help.” Rivet pointed to the horn beside the bed, and silently giggled when she surmised that he would be reading the part about the machines exploding. ‘Hopefully the noise won’t keep him up all night, I’m used to it but to someone who hasn’t spent their entire life listening to machines, it might be cacophonous!’ The mare thought as she typed out a final message. “Any questions? Need anything?” She offered the stallion a smile.
  17. Roleplay Type: World of Equestria Name: Eisenhorn Sex: Male Age: Middle aged Species: Mule Eye colour: A striking amethyst; always showing fierce determination. Coat: Bay Dun. Gradated black socks to a tarnished tan colour on the majority of the body. A dark line runs down the spine. Mane/Tail: As per the Bay Dun colouration, his mane and tail are satin black. He likes to keep his mane short so it tends to stick up similarly to a zebras, however not as drastically. Usually it is not styled into a particular pattern owing to the wind onboard his home. Physique: Strong and sturdy from years of physical labor and hard work. He is differently proportioned than the normal pony, however he is similar in stature to a draught pony. Residence: His home is on his airship The Aurora. All that he owns is on board and he would think of living nowhere else. Occupation: Captain of the civilian freighter and transport vessel the Aurora. His primary means of income is through large quantity shipping orders or government supplies, usually between Aquellian cities and Stalliongrad or Canterlot and other large cities respectively. However he also enjoys making smaller runs for parcel deliveries along with taking passengers for rides where they need to go. Cutie Mark: N/A History: Eisenhorn was born to a donkey father and a pony mother in the quaint little village of Fet Loch. He spent his formative years working on their farm and helping out around the house. While they didn’t live in the grandeur of some other ponies, he loved the neighborly nature of their village and how everyone was there to lend a helping hoof when needed. Being raised on a farm in such a small village there hadn’t been much excitement to stimulate his imagination. However every night his father would read to him out of old storybooks. He would weave stories about sky pirates and sky marshals, adventure and mystery, exotic lands and even more exotic individuals. Eisenhorn would always imagine himself as the protagonist in these stories, experiencing the wild blue yonder. Of course it saddened him a little that he would never experience the world of the sky as pegasus could, but he didn’t let it get him down. When he told his parents about his fantasies of being an airship captain, they would softly chuckle, as parents do, and tell him that he could be anything that he put his mind to. While they believed that he had the determination to be an airship captain, they didn’t want him to get hurt if he couldn’t live up to his own lofty expectations, and often steered him towards a more agrarian lifestyle, similar to their own. Eisenhorn understood why they did this, and appreciated it in his own way, but he was determined to be an airship captain. Being the adventurous type, Eisenhorn was always exploring the surrounding woods and forests; sometimes even going where he shouldn't. It was on one of these excursion that Eisenhorn found his first love. One of his colt friends had heard a story about an airship graveyard. A place where companies would park their airships when they were no longer in service and either scavenge them for parts, or just let them rust into shale. Of course there were also ghosts of ponies past and haunted airships in the story, but Eisenhorn didn’t care; he wanted to see the airships. So in the middle of the night, more towards morning, he snuck out of the house to meet up with a group of his friends at the edge of the forest. One of them had pilfered a map from the local rangers post and plotted out the course that they were going to take to find the graveyard. After a rather tiring hike through thick undergrowth, swamps, and even some rather spooky dense forest, the group came upon the edge of the graveyard. They snuck under the fence and began to explore. It was beyond spooky to see these rusted and derelict ships laying about all broken and bent. More than a few times a collective shiver ran up the group’s spine when they thought that they had seen something move out of the corner of their eyes. The group was having a grand old time, scaring each other, and just generally being silly foals. So much so that they had lost track of time and the sun began to rise. Upon realising what time it was the group decided that it would be best to get back home. Unfortunately for Eisenhorn he became turned around and lost in the maze of old ships. Having lost his group he became more than a little worried and began to retrace his steps. Upon doing so he came to an opening that he hadn't noticed before. He looked up and around to see if he could find a place to climb and get his bearings, and then he saw it. Just as the sunlight started to peek around its smoke stacks his eyes fell upon the most beautiful airship in all of Equestria, at least to Eisenhorn it was anyway. The shape, the lean, the bow, the bridge, the smokestacks; He instantly fell in love with this ship. To the objective eye it was just an old airliner that was rusted out and past its prime, but Eisenhorn could see past that. He could see what its potential. Upon finding the hatch and piling more than a few scraps to get to it, he began to explore. The more he saw of this ship the more he knew that one day it would be his. Once he finally reached the bridge, the view was even more impressive. From this vantage point he could clearly see all of the graveyard and a path out. He quickly mentally noted the location of the ship and promised it that he would return. Running all the way home, he informed his very worried parents about his new discovery. From that day forward he would make his way out there to play on “his” ship as often as he could. Time marched on and in what felt like the blink of an eye Eisenhorn was on the brink of colthood. He felt a little left out with all his friends were getting their cutie marks left and right whereas he would never have one. Despite this he never let it get him down, he was determined to find his place in the world. When he spoke with his parents about his quandary he did understand why they suggested him becoming a farmer like they were, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was destined to do something else. Luckily for him his village school had a very good program where colts and fillies could try out jobs and professions so see if they were to their liking, almost an internship. It was a hard decision for Eisenhorn but he eventually decided to try out the local mail service. He remembered how excited that he always was as a foal when new equipment arrived for the farm, and how much fun it was to unwrap it and be surprised by the contents. It was like getting a birthday present on any day of the year! Needless to say he really enjoyed himself while learning about the parcel service, but the best part came when the mailpony allowed him to deliver a small package to a local foal. Upon delivering the package he felt that same warm rush that he used to feel when he received a package, except this time it was even bigger. He found out that giving was better than receiving that day and it sculpted him for years to come. After a few weeks of working with the parcel service, he went out to “his” airship to have a long hard think. He spent the entire day wandering the halls and holds of that ship, just thinking to himself about his future. Was it the right thing to do? Would he be happy? What would happen to this ship? The night was slowly approaching as he was still pondering these questions and sleep was sneaking up on him. He decided to spend the night on the bridge of the old girl, maybe a good night’s rest would clear his mind and make deciding easier. In the early throes of morning he awoke with a start but couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was a bad dream, maybe it was a loud creak of the hull settling into the ground, but whatever had awoken him had done so just in time for the sunrise. As he watched Celestia’s sun peak over the bow it finally hit him. He didn’t have to choose between the two! He could run his own delivery service and use this old ship as the cargo hauler! Yet again Eisenhorn was overjoyed and knew what he must do. Over the ensuing months and years he took any jobs that he could get his hooves on, hard and dirty, long and tiring, he didn’t care; so long as there were bits at the end. He delivered packages part time, worked in the fields part time, and did many other things during his later colthood and early stallionhood. All the while his parents helped him along the way, overjoyed at their son’s determination and stubbornness at achieving his goals. Then came the day that he had waited for ever since he had seen that ship. He hopped on a train to Stalliongrad so that he might purchase her. After a few long and sleepless days of travel he arrived at the Royal Equestrian Airlines Stalliongrad headquarters. After being questioned and chuckled at, as to his reasons for wanting to buy a derelict ship, by a few secretaries he managed to get a meeting with the CEO. The meeting seemed to drag on, he was in that office for hours just talking with the business stallion about what he planned to do with the ship. He was told that a scrap company had offered twice the amount of bits that he was offering. Disheartening as it was, he didn’t let it dissuade him from his goal. Over the next few hours the CEO began to see an unwavering determination in this young stallion, something that reminded the aging business mogul of himself in his younger years. A deal was struck, and Eisenhorn walked out of that office a very happy stallion with an old and decrepit ship and a hefty sum less bits to his name. As he exited the office the CEO called after him asking what he would name her. Eisenhorn simply replied, “Aurora.” The name had struck him as he watched the sun break over the bow of his ship on that fateful day. Once he got home, Eisenhorn moved all his belongings into the ship, it was his new home now. He kept on working double even triple shifts, getting his name out there to potential clients. He would endlessly talk about how he was fixing the ship up and what he planned to do with it, regardless of the ponies interest. On one of his many delivery runs to Hoofington he met with a rather unusual zebra names Monty that would cement a lifelong friendship. Monty became his go to stallion for refurbished and cheap parts, where as Monty tried to use Eisenhorn for domestic shipping needs as much as he could. Eventually through resourcefulness, the help of many a transient worker, and a few good friends; Eisenhorn was ready to launch The Aurora. All the systems checked out, the envelopes were half charged, the engine was idling as best it could and the lever was thrown. The hulking mass shuttered, creaked, moaned, and put up and awful din but it was airborne. This was the happiest day of Eisenhorn’s life. He was an airship captain and a delivery stallion, his two favourite things in the world. All through his determination and force of will he managed to snag a piece of the pie. From that day forward his network of friends and business associates expanded exponentially. He was known as one of the most reliable delivery stallions out there. While it might take a while for your package to arrive, it was well worth the wait. Eventually he started taking on Imperial contracts for hauling bureaucratic supplies and raw building materials. While it is an ongoing battle to keep the old ship in the sky, most of the time requiring more bits than are available to Eisenhorn, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He loves the expression on the little colts’ and fillies’ faces when his ship arrives in town and he delivers their long awaited packages. He loves feeling the breeze in his mane and watching the rolling landscape below. He loves soaring through the clouds and feeling the condensation on his skin. The exotic ports, the new individuals, the fun places he has gone and people that he has met; he wouldn’t give any of it up. Character Summary: Eisenhorn is a very easy to get along with mule, who loves to travel and make new friends. His determination and headstrong nature allowed for him to achieve his lofty goals that he set for himself. Not only did he manage to resurrect a derelict airship from the scrap heap, but he also owns and operates said airship allowing him to make a business out of his second passion, delivering packages. Eisenhorn loves the freedom that he feels when standing on the deck of his airship, and the smiles that he brings to ponies near and far whenever it swings into town. The running of an airship is a very time consuming business, especially one as old as his, so he occasionally hires local ponies who are looking for a way to make some extra bits. While they are usually not long term jobs, mostly a singular trip, he manages to form lifelong friendships with these ponies. Amiable and easy to get along with, albeit hard to understand on occasion, Eisenhorn hasn’t met anypony yet that he hasn’t liked. With his cheery fiddle playing and often incomprehensible but none the less affable manner of speech, he is one of the most fun engaging mules that you will ever meet. While his determination and headstrong nature has served him well in the past, sometimes it can put him in situations that can be difficult to find his way out of. Once he takes on a contract or job, no matter how large, he feels more than obligated to finish it despite the hardships, sometimes at the cost of considerable time and bits. While Eisenhorn may be a resourceful individual, he isn’t the brightest when it comes to technical thinking, nor would he be considered extremely book smart. He makes up for this by being a little more street smart, however again, he isn’t the smartest in that field either. He was born and raised on a farm in a rather small village, this has left an indelible mark upon his personality and being. -- Heritage -- Owing to his heritage Eisenhorn is very even tempered, tolerant, courageous, and strong. He claims that he only received the good traits from his mother (Pony) and father (Donkey). Eisenhorn is incredibly sure footed, he can walk places where normal ponies wouldn’t dare tread. This is especially helpful when making midair repairs to the superstructure of his airship. Despite his outward appearance, namely due to the rather long ears, he is very cunning and resourceful. He may not be the sharpest tack when it comes to engineering or mechanical know how, but he is resourceful; especially when it comes to keeping his ship in the air. -- Fet Loch Accent -- Due to growing up and spending most of his formative years in Fet Loch, he has a rather interesting accent. While he does speak the imperial tongue, it sounds very different from your everyday pony. Some ponies would call it almost unintelligible, others it just takes a little while to figure out what he is saying. When he gets adamant about something, or excited, the effect is multiplied. -- Fiddle -- Through his travels he has picked up many talents, one of which is his ability to play the fiddle. While he is not the most skilled fiddle player, he does enjoy it. He knows more than a few classic roving tunes from his home village of Fet Loch, but he is always interested in learning more. Playing the fiddle helps pass the time on some of the longer trips and helps to take his mind off of things. His voice may not be the most pure or clear, owing mainly to his accent, it has an interesting melodic quality. For the songs that he tends to sing and play, his voice fits perfectly. however if he were to sing more proper or classical songs, it would sound wholly out of place. His fiddle is rather a rather old classic Fet Loch pattern with beautiful craftstallionship. While often out of tune, there is a certain je ne sais quoi about the sound that it produces, almost always bringing a smile to anypony who is in earshot. -- The Aurora -- He is the sole owner and operator of the airship the Aurora. Even though she is rust covered and probably a little unsafe at times, Eisenhorn loves her all the same. The Aurora is a reclaimed Stalliongrad luxury liner. In her heyday she was one of the largest and most comfortable. However as the relentless march of time wore on she was replaced by newer, faster, and more elegant models. So as it goes, she was placed in the airship graveyard to rust into shale. After numerous long years of neglect and erosion by the elements, Eisenhorn found her and fell in love. After a good long while he purchased the old girl and began to fix her up. This was a lengthy process however with a little help he did manage to get her up and airborne again. Of course modifications had to be made for her new job. While the upper decks are still passenger, “Friendly”, the lower decks have been converted into a rather large cargo hold. As it stands, she is one of, if not the largest cargo ships in operation. That being said, there are rather lucrative contracts to be had with the governments of the land, transporting either large quantities of raw material, provisions, supplies, or even other smaller airships. The envelope is another oddity. Rather than a singular envelope, as the ship was designed, Eisenhorn opted to retrofit the Aurora with dual rigid envelopes of Aether Reactive gas. When at maximum capacity just one of these envelopes would be sufficient to lift the ship and cargo, however getting the bits to run them at full capacity can be a hard task. Also the redundancy offers greater stability when cruising, and a drastically increased lift capacity; meaning bigger loads which in turn bring in more money. As previously stated, there are still some passenger decks, along with a self serve galley, observation decks, and sparsely furnished rooms. What needs to be taken into consideration is that this is not a luxury liner any more. The majority of the interior is still rusted, the decking is usually bare with throw rugs here and there, the furnishings are few and far between, all in all it isn’t the moving five star hotel that it used to be. Now it is a working cargo ship that can take passengers if it needs to. The Aurora by far is not the most agile of airships. She needs a few tug pegasus to get into dock in most stations. Nor is she the fastest cargo ship out there. She uses large deployable starboard and port sails for most of her cruising, with smaller static fore and aft sails for maneuvering. There is also a canopy sail strung between the two envelopes. This can be used to either shelter the main deck from the elements, or as an extra sail when a little more speed is required. However when the winds are not in her favour, there is a very large and slow engine that moves a larger still propeller at the aft end of the ship. Water maneuvers are another story entirely. When on the rare occasion that she does splash down, she is not very efficient. Her design was crafted for predominantly airborne use. When in the water she is slower and less agile than most sailing ships and tends to list to the port side. In strong winds, the airframe creaks and moans, when splashing down every rivet protests the strain, when going above half throttle the engine starts to knock and belch smoke; despite all this Eisenhorn loves her more than anything. The Aurora is his home and he would never think of living anywhere else in Equestria. For those of you interested in the technical specification of the ship, they are as follows.
  18. You are not free whose liberty is won by the rigour of other, more righteous souls. You are merely protected. Your freedom is parasitic, you suck the honorable man dry and offer nothing in return. You who have enjoyed freedom, who have done nothing to earn it, your time has come. This time you will stand alone and fight for yourselves. Now you will pay for your freedom in the currency of honest toil.

    1. Brony55

      Brony55

      Encore Encore muy muy bein

  19. All my life, I have had a reputation for being cold, unfeeling. Some have called me heartless, ruthless, even cruel. I am not. I am not beyond emotional response or compassion. But I possess - and my masters count this as perhaps my paramount virtue - a singular force of will. Throughout my career it has served me well to draw on this facility and steel myself, unflinching, at all that this wretched galaxy can throw at me. To feel pain or fear or grief is to allow myself a luxury I cannot aff...

  20. ‘Ah, a chink in the armour. This is exactly what I wanted.’ The imposing mare thought to herself without a trace of her satisfaction ever reaching her face. Instead she lowered her wings and put on a beautifully welcoming and warm smile, not something that anypony was oft to see on her. From this point forward she locked eyes with Figment, she was speaking to him and not to anypony else. The stare was not one of contempt or hatred, but of caring and compassion. “I think he does mean you, little one. How could be he so selfish. I thought that what any changeling wanted was the good of the hive. I am sure that the hive, and the Queen, would miss a spy and a bureaucrat.” Veracity spoke in a modulated tone, conveying understanding and empathy. “He thinks he is above you, little one. Better than you. How dare he put himself before the good of the hive.” --Tisk tisk tisk-- Her tongue clicked as she shook her head. Veracity was hoping against hope that this wouldn’t come to blows. She was not one to show her kind or caring side, ever. Being a battle hardened military mare, this was a rarity for her. However, tactics were tactics and this seemed like the best one at the time being. “You’re right, you're nothing like him. You have friends, you have helped ponies. You even do the right thing when he throws you under the carriage and uses you as a footstool. How admirable, how honourable.” She smiled again between her sentences, she was trying her hardest to win this little changeling over. “The thing of it is, he won’t remember your honourable actions at this juncture. That disloyal changeling doesn’t care about the good of the hive. You said it yourself, members of the hive protect each other and the hive as a whole. By threatening the ponies of Stalliongrad and the Celestial Empire as a whole, he is threatening your hive! He did just say that the annihilation of your entire race would follow if an all out war were to take place.” Veracity was adept at this sort of subterfuge, twisting people’s words to suit her needs. The key was to use exactly what they said, but change the meaning by applying it to different circumstances. “Would you allow one changeling to endanger the lives of countless others? By his hostile and blatantly self serving actions, he would doom your entire race. Even the grubs. You said that you don’t hold malice towards anyone, unless they threaten the hive. I do not threaten your hive, little one. I want to bring you back to your hive, to your Queen. This changeling however seems to threaten your hive, if you remember what he said before. He threatens the order, the livelihood, and most of all the honour and loyalty of every changeling that is linked to that hive.” Veracity knew that this changeling must be getting tired of speeches, but she had a point to make. Hopefully he would listen and understand what she was trying to do. “Now, little one, you know that ponies don’t often hate or fear others. We try our hardest to accept them and help them along their paths in life. I believe you witnessed an example of that in your journeys, no? That charcoal factory working earth pony. He took you in when you looked cold. He gave you his scarf. He probably even shared his small dinner with you. That is what being a pony is all about. Caring for others as you would care for your own. It matters not what race or conviction, what matters is what you are on the inside. It’s not because of me that you won’t see him again. I promised that I would help you along your path through the judicial system. It’s the other changeling that seems to want this to end badly.” Veracity’s mind was racing to think of how to impress upon this tired looking changeling that she meant him no harm and that cooperation would be the best way for everyone. “If you remember my previous offer it still stands. I will help you, and I promise on my pinion feathers that you won’t be harmed in any way. If I remember correctly from my readings of the law. There might even be a way for you to petition for political asylum in our Empire. Of course you would have to prove that you meant us no harm, but I don’t think that you honestly mean to harm anypony. I see that deep down you are good. And, for all my bluster I honestly don’t want to hurt you. It’s not something that I would enjoy. All ponies have a special talent, I bet you know this. Well mine is my drive to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I am the shield of the downtrodden and the sword of the weak. Not to be mean, but you seem more than a little downtrodden at the moment, and I couldn’t help but notice that the other one took most of your energy from you not too long ago.” Veracity did mean every word that she had just said; she wasn’t one to hurt anypony needlessly. After all, she hadn’t lied about her special talent. “I reiterate. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help you out here. Just because you are different from me doesn’t mean that I preclude you from my oath to protect all life. If you wouldn’t mind, I would greatly appreciate it if you came with me so that I could help you along with your journey through our land …” Veracity wore a puzzled expression upon her face for a moment. “... You know what. I never caught your name. I’m Captain Veracity of the VSS. And I am pleased to meet one of your kind. I am truly sorry about the conditions of our meeting however.” Veracity stuck her hoof out in a very non threatening manner indicative of a hoof shake. Her wings were presented forwards and low to the ground in a welcoming, almost hug like posture, and she wore a concerned and yet understanding smile upon her muzzle. She truly hoped that this worked out.
  21. Rivet winced when Martel flinched as she approached his shoulder, but she gave a reassuring smile when he explained his actions. ‘Poor stallion. I wonder why no one wants to be his friend. He seems nice enough to me!’ She thought as she went over the schematics one last time in her head. Martel seemed surprised to say the least when she told him the timeframe on the two braces. ‘Well I aim to please! I’m just glad that the timeframe is acceptable to him. I was worried that it would be too slow.’ Rivet mused to herself as she smiled at Martel. His next question made her chuckle. ”Can it be painted Purple?” “Of course, I’ll let you pick shade of purple on one condition. Golden filigree around edges. Look smashing while smashing!!” The typewriter chimed in as Rivet first smiled and then chuckled at her own horrible pun. ‘He is going to need somewhere to stay for the duration of the work, Rivet. Be a good host and offer him your bed to sleep in for as long as she needs. He is paying you for this job, it’s the least you can do.’ Rivet mentally scolded herself remembering her etiquette. “You stay here for duration of work? Might help, need measurements and weights. Sleep in my bed, very comfy I assure you. Will hold your weight, very strong.” the typewriter offered as Rivet put on her most sincere smile. What the mare needed to learn was phrasing of sentences, hopefully Martel would understand what she meant without much trouble.
  22. One man can start a landslide with the casting of a single pebble.

  23. Veracity took the time, as the two changelings were trying to intimidate her further, to edge around them so that they would be truly in the corner that she had backed them into previously. ‘These two are exceptionally dense, either that or stupidly brave. I can’t decide which.’ The seasoned veteran thought to herself as the paper pushing changeling started up his threats again. He was trying to twist her words around; trying to make her feel like the badpony here. Unfortunately for him Veracity knew that she had the law and justice on her side. Her moral compass always pointed North, when it came to the good of Ponykind. From the reports that she had managed to read about the Canterlot incident, these parasites had not only assaulted the Her Majesty Celestia, but they had full out invaded Canterlot with the sole purpose of conquering all of Equestria. After that incident, the changeling race had been banished from the Celestial Kingdom. For all intents and purposes these two changelings were not only trespassers but enemies of the Empire. It was Veracity’s duty to apprehend them at all costs. ‘I offer them a ticket out of here, a free ride back to their hive. And they refuse it. They baulk at my offer of compassion and understanding. Well then, that seems to answer my question, they are just dense.’ The mare thought as she rolled her eyes. ‘Capturing them alive is the best option, they are of more value that way, so I may have to forego the sword this evening in favor of my hooves.’ In this encounter, the mare had the upper hoof. Not only had she backed them into a corner, but she had decades of combat training, conditioning, and even real combat on her side. These two seemed young and inexperienced when it came to the ways of conflict. Veracity had most of the fight already planned out in her head before she began to speak. “The hard way it is.” Veracity mumbled before she began to roar. “I’ve had ENOUGH you insolent little parasites! I offer you a get out of jail free card. I offer you understanding and compassion and you rebuke it. Not a wise move you insignificant little specs. ‘Fight for our survival...’ Now that’s cute. While you fight for your selfish needs, I fight for the entirety of Ponykind. I fight for Stalliongrad, for all the ponies that your kind would oppress given the chance, I fight for all of Equestria and the Celestial Empire. Most importantly, I fight for Her Majesty.” The mare seemed to be gaining steam in her speech again, an almost sickening glint could be seen in her eye. She knew what was coming, this was the fun part. She flared her wings again, to their full extent, as her voice continued to rise in volume and fervor. “Your ‘strength’ is but an accident, owed only to the weakness of others! I tread the path of Righteousness! Though it be paved with broken glass, I shall walk it barehooved; though it crosses rivers of fire, I will pass over them; though it wanders wide, the light of the Empress guides my step! You and your kind shun the Empress’ loving light, and in time you hate that which you often fear. Her light is merciful and kind; warm and welcoming. That light is not for you, not for your kind. You are insects that scatter in the starkness of Her luminosity! Her compassion and mercy you shall not feel, nor mine; for nothing emboldens treachery so much as mercy.” By the end of her monologue, her voice had reached a fervor unmatched by any orator. She believed in her cause with every fiber of her being. She understood what was expected of her, she was willing to give everything that she had to live up to the standard that she set for herself, to live up to her life's purposes. She would die if she had to to protect those that could not protect themselves. At this point she had gone quiet. A smile slinked across her muzzle as all that could be heard was the breathing of the three in that room. She narrowed her eyes and shifted her weight, posing herself for the attack. She took a breath, all emotion and fervor now lost to the calm of the moment. “The ending is nearer than you think, and it is already written. All that we have left to choose is the correct moment to begin.” The mare’s words hung in the air as they escaped her lips. The sickening glint in her eye bored straight into the bureaucrat's soul.
  24. I am not asking for blood. I can take your blood. I am asking for souls. Only you can give me your souls.

    1. Halide

      Halide

      *Pulls apart about three pairs of shoes* Yeah, um, here you go. You can have 'em. I'm not using 'em anymore.

    2. Pony_Sage

      Pony_Sage

      Why thank you I was looking for some of these. Come to think of it I might just need another .... HEY WAIT A MINUTE!!

  25. As the stallion spoke Rivet’s imagination began to swirl and whirl. He wanted something strong to balance his weight and provide for combat, and also he wanted a lighter more everyday brace. A very vibrant gleam could be seen in the mare’s eyes and an inquisitive look upon her face. She began to sketch, sketch anything and everything that came to her mind, no matter how implausible. This is how Rivet’s mind worked, she let her creativity flow out onto the page, no matter how obscure and unlikely the designs were. What this helped her do was to visualize different mechanisms and ways of connecting pieces from different designs. Unless somepony was exceedingly brilliant, they almost never came up with the correct design on the first go. The mare had learned this lesson the hard way. Her mind began to wander as her pen kept scribbling out designs upon the paper, her look now vacant. She remembered back to the last chance visitors that she had in her home. How everything was going fine until suddenly her outbuilding that she used as an entrance to the boiler room exploded and ripped part of the lighthouse proper up. At the time she did not know why the explosion had happened, but through further investigation during the very long rebuilding process, she found that a spoon had jammed her brine intake mechanism. This would not have been a major problem if it was not for the fact that she had modified the safety check valves so that she could run her Mk. 1 Halo Engine off of the main boiler system. This being done, the MK. 1 had ripped itself apart when the pressure exceeded the safety margin and wreaked havoc in her basement. That was a serious design flaw, she didn’t want her engines to fly apart when they were pressed hard, that would have been very bad for business. She found herself looking directly into Martel’s eyes with a dull expression on her face when her mind came back to her current reality. Her pen was now scratching would be designs on her floorboards. Rivet blushed behind her tiny square glasses and darted her vision down to her sketchpad with an embarrassed look. ‘You shouldn’t let your mind wander like that, especially when there is company.’ She mentally scolded herself with a look of self disappointment. She looked over her sketches so far. Three pages had been filled up with designs from the simple to the extraordinary, one was even a mechanized steam driven metal frame that Martel would sit in and be armoured on all sides from attack, while four hammers similar to the one that he owned would flail about to ward off any would be attackers. Sometimes Rivet had an overactive imagination. With a smile she levitated the sketchpad over to Martel, in hopes that he would like some of her designs and maybe find some of them humorous. The little mare walked over next to the arm of the couch where the stallion’s head was, reading over his shoulder as it were, and pointed out some of the designs and how they would attach to him. She liked two in particular. One was a very simple design, a J shaped flat piece of a new alloy that Coal Brightfire had given her a sample of with a comfortable sucket for his missing leg, and a rubberized grip. The prosthesis attached posterior to the socket, and would be very flexible and springy, yet rigid enough for him to use it every day and have it support his weight. There was a down side however, it was not articulated. Meaning that he would have to learn a new walking motion for his new prosthesis. As she pointed to it she typed out, “Simple design, light, fast, agile, strong. Everyday use. Rubberized sole stops slipping, weighted similarly to your missing leg. Balances your out. Bad part, no articulation, need to learn new walking motion. Like peg leg. Good part: Have new alloy in house, sample from Coal Brightfire, gift for being good customer. Can bend into shape, machine socket, assemble, in maybe 12 hours?” The note read out. ‘Oh I hope that is quick enough for him. I don’t think I could make one that’s still of good quality any faster than that. Plus the combat model will take much longer to assemble.’ The mare thought to herself. Rivet then quickly moved on to her next idea, glossing over some of the more outlandish ones. She settled on a design that was rugged yet reliable, and exceedingly strong to boot. Without a trained eye, the design might have looked like a pile of gobbledygook, but to rivet it made perfect sense. This prosthesis was designed for one purpose, to be almost indestructible. There was an outer shell, made to look similar to a pony’s leg, made of high carbon steel that covered all the internal workings. There were two points of lateral articulation, and a single point of rotational articulation. Of course there were also embellishments of Rivet’s own imagination in the design. She pointed to it and leaned a little closer to the stallions shoulders as she typed up her next message. “Combat model, high carbon steel outer layer. Two lateral articulation points, femur and tibia, and tibia and cannon bone. Rotational articulation around middle and distal phalanx joint. Locking articulation mechanism, works almost identically to real leg. Internal mechanism, clockwork, springs, assist with motion and walking. Leg very heavy, heavier than other legs. Shoe textured with knurling for grip on all surfaces. High impact, full range of motion, different speeds. Not good for full out sprint, use other one for that. Special part. When articulation locks, hoof stomp activates stabilizer spikes. Two inch long steel points, drive into ground to lock hoof in place. Can then rotate around in full circles on rear hoof. Good for hammer, protecting flank.” The note was long but hopefully Martel could understand all that she was saying. She pointed to each structure in turn and drew small articulation diagrams for him as well. “Bad news, lots of parts needed, measurements needed, complicated crafting, long assembly and tuning time. Take 2 weeks total? Probably. Need to order core skeletal alloy from Coal, crafting and shipping takes time. Sorry, best I can do. Hope you like.” The second note read as Rivet turned to the now close at hoof Martel with an apologetic smile and her ears out to the side as though she had done something wrong. ‘Oh I hope he likes the designs. I hope they fit his needs!’ She anxiously thought as she awaited his replies.
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