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  1. Northern Storm Industries... This was the place that was housing the thing that Ice needed. The thing that STAR had to have. The one thing that when it was finished, would be the staple point of not only the organization, but quite possibly the lynch pin of Equestria as well. The Shadow of Ice. A ship that will... forever change the skies, and she needed to have it. They were located just on the outskirts of Stalliongrad. It was cold. Stark contrast to most of Equestria at this point, as it was pretty far north, not too far from the coast. The air itself was moist, and Luna's moon was invisible behind the ominous clouds that threatened the skies. Rain was coming. She knew that rain was coming though. That's what they planned for. The rain would help muffle their hoofsteps both into the facility, and once they got in. The plan was simple. Get in, get what we need, and get out. She figured the place was probably going to be guarded, and heavily booby trapped. Thankfully, Ice knew exactly where the prints were at, however, she wasn't sure what security systems they had in place. She looked around to the others that were with her. She herself, was not in her usual attire, nor did she even look the same. her coat was inverted, a dark midnight blue was all that could be seen. A simple illusion spell. Her cutie mark was covered up by a coat-tight body suit that matched the coat. The spheres orbiting really close to her neck to not draw attention. At some point she planned on having a necklace made that she can rest them in when they weren't in orbit, but that was for another time. The only thing that was the same about her was her eyes as she looked to the group. "Alright, the prints we need, are in a file cabinet on the third floor in the Master's Quarters. Knowing how to get there is one thing, but we need to be mindful of security protocols. I don't know what kind of system they run here, but I imagine they will be guarded. When we find them, we book it. There's no reason to stay beyond that. Once we have these prints, our real work can begin." she told the others that were with her.
  2. Lit with tiny specks of magical light like stars, the courtyard is the perfect place to run to if one wishes to escape the noise and frivolity of the party inside. It is quiet, cozy, artfully overgrown, and full of dark corners to sneak off too if one wishes for privacy. There is a large fountain in the centre of the small garden space which features a statue of a very severe-looking unicorn mare who bears some resemblance to the hostess, Frostlace. Though few flowers remain since the first frost, the fragrance of wild flora still lingers about the shrubbery, just barely distinguishable above the overpowering scent of wine grapes drifting from the vineyard on the other side of the Courtyard’s low, stone fence.
  3. All three floors plus the basement of the East Wing are open to party-goers. There are a variety of rooms on each floor, though most seem to be filled with art of every variety and lounging areas. It is almost as if the Estate has its own museum here. Or perhaps it is a cabinet of curiosities? Upon entering the East Wing from the Grand Hall, a notice flickers to life upon the floor: If it is adventure you seek, then seek no more. Within these halls, magic will melt floors away, create mazes, or turn rooms upside down. You might change shape or lose your form altogether, but fear not! If you are lost, simply say so and you shall be rescued. If you rise to the challenge, however, and find your way back to the festivities, there may be a prize waiting for you!
  4. The Grand Hall is the centre of the party, lavishly lit with floating candles and balls of magical light that occasionally take the shapes of stars, flowers, and other whimsical delights. Barrels of whiskey and bottles of wine are piled high, with friendly and sharply-dress Stalliongrad ponies serving it freely to those who ask. There are also long tables piled high with every kind of food one could imagine, with smaller tables and cushions nearby for guests to take their plates to and enjoy their meals. There is a stage in the back of the hall with a large dance floor before it, as well as lounging areas full of cushions and chairs and roaring fireplaces. Throughout the night, music of many different genres will be performed by as many different musicians, and guests are free to dance next to the stage or relax nearby. The greatest sight to behold within the Grand Hall, though, is the pool. A large, above-ground pool carved from stone takes up a large portion of the very centre of the Hall, between the food tables and the rest areas. Mostly reserved for attending sea ponies, this pool is also open to those who simply wish for a swim! ---- The long-awaited night had finally arrived! For months, Frostlace had been planning for an extravagant party the likes of which her family home had never seen: a celebration of and for all. Here she was, lounging on a cushion before a veritable tower made of bottles of her family’s prized ice wines, sipping an aged spirit that was almost sickly-sweet and warmed her belly. A small bite of sharp cheese complimented it perfectly. She seemed like the calm centre in the eye of the storm. All around her, the staff of the Estates and those who had been hired on for the party were scurrying about to make sure every little thing was perfect for the guests. Any moment now, the doors to the Grand Hall would open and her guests would begin to arrive. Whatever nervousness may have plagued her during preparations had been chased away by the thrill of a grand affair; nothing calmed Grafinya Frostlace like a good party. Faces new and old, strange and familiar, and more would all be gracing her home tonight. She had requested no RSVPs, simply extended an invitation to any and all. She may well be entertaining royalty tonight,or perhaps just a few friendly faces from her favourite pubs(which meant all the pubs). It mattered not. No matter who passed through those doors, she would be sharing a night to remember with them! The curvaceous mare adjusted her gown and hair to make sure she was a proper vision to the first guests to enter the Grand Hall. It was a stunning number: The bodice was pure white silk with a trailing skirt made of sheer white fabric. Hoof-sewn lace snowflakes dotted the skirt near the hem, mimicking the magical frost that dotted her mane, which she was wearing down tonight. The skirt was her favourite part of the gown: it was breathtakingly stunning. And sheer. Meaning her lovely assets were fully visible, as well as her freshly-tattooed hind leg. The Grafinya was eager to show her lovely new look to the world, and even more eager to shock the more...stiff, snooty party-goers tonight with a live inking of her second tattoo! Soon, any moment now, the party would begin… Frostlace took another sip of wine, another nibble of cheese, and waited with a warm smile on her face.
  5. Only the top floor of the West Wing is blocked for party-goers, as it is home to the personal quarters of Grafinya Frostlace. Aside from that, each and every room on the main floor, second floor, and basement is open to guests. The West Wing is full of the Hoar Witch family history: paintings from many generations of ponies decorate the walls, and the library contains journal and ledgers from the the very first Hoar Witch. The library also happens to be one of the most extensive personal collections any major Stalliongrad family can boast. And of course in the basement of the west wing is the now-abandoned dungeon (which was turned into a wine cellar years ago). Upon entering the West Wing from the Grand Hall, a notice flickers to life upon the floor: If frights and thrills are what you seek, then seek no more. Ghouls, devils, and dreadful curses lurk these halls - the lingering spirits of ponies from generations past wish for you to feel their presence...and you will. Trust nothing, trust nopony - and brave the trials of the ghosts of the Hoar Witch Estates. If fear takes hold, simply call for help and you shall be rescued. If you brave these trials, there may be a prize waiting for you!
  6. Over the past month, folded paper boats have been sailing down from high int he sky, gently gliding into the hooves, claws, talons, and paws of curious creatures. Upon grasping the little paper models, they unfurl to reveal an invitation in elegant script. It reads: You are cordially invited to the Hoar Witch Estates to celebrate its most successful harvest in generations. The Grafinya Frostlace has opened the main house of her Stalliongrad home to all who might wish to lift their spirits before the onset of winter. Fountains of ice wine and barrels of whiskey will be overflowing, tables piled high with delicacies from each corner of the world, and every fireplace roaring with flames to chase away the chill of late Autumn. All are welcome. Big and small, old and young - any and every species, class, profession. There is no dress code, and none are prohibited from joining the festivities! - The Stalliongard Countess, or Grafinya, has invited all of Equestria and beyond to come into her home and celebrate a bountiful harvest, or at least that is how she presents things. In truth, she simply wanted to celebrate for celebration’s sake. As such, there is a little something for everypony waiting in the Hoar Witch Estates. There will be four active threads for this roleplay for the main sections of the party: The Grand Hall, The Courtyard, The West Wing, and the East Wing. The Grand Hall will be the main social area, the Courtyard a quiet space for more intimate exchanges, and the East and West Wings will be designated for a unique flavour of fun. The East will be a feast of oddities, trick rooms, and magic to confuse and amaze. The West must be braved only by the most daring party-goers, as a mansion as old as this one has many ghosts and curses lingering about… The Grand Hall The Courtyard The East Wing The West Wing A few important things: -Posting order will more or less be a free-for-all, as long as we’re all respectful not to leave anybody behind. I will post here if I feel we should pull back until somebody gets a turn. -Because of the nature of the East and West wings, I will be dipping in occasionally as you come across enchantments, spooks, or anything of that ilk to influence the way the thread moves. Be prepared! -Food and entertainment are a big feature here. If you have a musician/performer of any sort or a chef/baker character, feel free to post here if you’d like them to be more than just a party-goer. Bartenders are also very welcome! -Challenges in the East and West Wings will lead to fun prizes! In regards to the East Wing, there may be some minor puzzles but not always. Sometimes you’ll just have to be persistent -Yes, sea ponies can come too. There will be an indoor, above-ground pool. For swimming and/or sea ponies. Guest Performance Roster Lucy the peryton: guitar/vocals. Yxa the caribou DJ.
  7. As far as most ponies knew, the Society for a New Dawn was little more than a glorified Equestrian fan club for Prof. Morianna Razorclaw and her radical ideas. Aside from reprinting her lectures, advertising public appearances from her and other advocates, and sending political surveys out to its members, nothing about New Dawn stood out of the ordinary. Sure, the surveys were ridiculously long, and often included such strange questions as “Would you support a political movement with the aim of removing the Princesses from power if it had the support of the people?” Or “Would you gleefully take candy from a baby?” And even gems like “Is it fun to be evil?” Overall though, nobody doubted New Dawn’s status as a peaceful advocacy group. Those New Dawn members who answered the survey questions in a certain way - demonstrating anti-monarchy sympathies without inauthentically passing themself off as a supporter of authoritarian values - earned secret rewards. Upon further background evaluation, such individuals got added onto an exclusive mailing list; one for sympathizers for WRAITH, the ruthless revolutionary organization determined to rule Equestria! In the last several days, all members of this Shadow List received notification (encrypted with a cipher as a precautionary measure) that a nighttime rally was to be held in Stalliongrad, inside a rusty old warehouse by the river. Here, on the periphery of Equestrian influence, the people’s attachment to the Princesses was nowhere near as strong compared to the equine residents of the Heartland. Assuming these secret sympathizers could decipher their messages correctly, they’d learn that on that very night, the enigmatic Shadowmane herself will speak and lay out WRAITH’s grand vision for the future of Equestria! No clouds or snow were present on the night of the Rally. From available windows and nearby rooftops, hidden observers watched for signs of REA activity; reinforcements were on standby in case Celestia’s enforcers decided to crash WRAITH’s splendid little get-together. As for the attendees; well, first they’d have to get past Dog. Hopefully, they've remembered the WRAITH motto..... --------- NOTICE: Unless you've been told otherwise by me, your character must enter through the front entrance and be cleared for entry by Dog. OOC thread is here.
  8. ZigTurn flew around Ponyville's train station,"OOOOOH,I just can't wait to get there...what was that place called again..eh,I'll figure out when I arrive!" She said excitedly,her light tan mane rushing behind her and her Maroon coat darkening her Yellow eyes. A pony yelled at her to take a seat,so she did,right next to another pony,"Umm..Hi there,I'm ZigTurn,but call me Zig,or Ziggy!" She extended out a hoof for the pony to shake. ((P.S, Derpyy is the tourguide ))
  9. A tall, tan filly trotted through Stalliongrad. She was an older filly, just barely old enough to be traveling on her own. Her tail and mane stood out against her tan coat, as so did her icy-blue eyes. She carried a brown saddle-bag strapped around her back, containing her trusted torque wrench and 33 bits, not much, but hopefully enough to keep her around for the week she would be spending in her hometown. Her family's constant travels had caused her to lose her original frontier accent, though she hoped maybe to gain it back in this time - or at least a little of it. Her hooves made the traditional "trot-trot" sound as she went, her mane bouncing up and down with every trotting step. The hairs of her mane rubbed against her horn gently, though it was also an insignificant factor and made no difference either way. This unicorn filly was named Torque Wrench, a name given to her from the Wrench family's buisness of Carriage repair. At the tip of her red, white and blue tail was a black, dry splatter of oil, her special way of accessorizing herself perminantly. She was very glad to finally be returning home, though she had not seen her hometown since moving to Fillydelphia, and then finally to Canterlot a long time ago. She just hoped no long would think of her as a stuck-up, overly wealthy city pony, as she was definitely not. She also wondered if any pony would remember her. She had had a fair amount of friends back when she was just a little filly, but she bet they probably moved off to get some big-break or something. Nonetheless, she was exctatic to be back in Stalliongrad, even if for just a short week. (Hello everypony! I'm Torque Wrench. I'm quite new to this site, but I love it so far! As I have been roleplaying on other websites for the last 3 years, I'm quite literate, though I do face an issue. As my laptop has decided it does not want to work, I do all of my roleplaying on my IPhone. I miss keys every now and again so I often rely on autocorrect for aid. Though autocorrect isn't as helpful as I'd hoped. So, all in all, I'm glad to be here and if you notice any errors, please let me know so I may fix them. Thank you."
  10. Right, so I figure I've been lurking long enough, and it's well past time for me to actually jump into the RP hooves first by actually starting my own thread; no half-measures for saucy. My only active experience in the Mane RP this far has been in riverhippo's 100 Country Kisses thread, and I've not really done any forum-based RPing before Canterlot, so this may be a colossally bad idea. I have done plenty of tabletop and live action role-playing, I'm just unsure of how it's supposed to work in a forum context. Still, I want to give it a try, and hopefully people will be willing to help me out a bit. Since my OC (Professor Ashen Smirk) is a lecturer who has just made the move from Canterlot to Stalliongrad, I thought a good way of introducing my character and having some fun would be to have his new superiors arrange for him to hold an inaugural lecture, open to students, faculty and members of the public. Unfortunately, they didn't give him any warning, so the first he heard about this was when he arrived in Stalliongrad the night before, after a long hike (walking from Canterlot to Stalliongrad seemed like such a good idea too), and saw a student handing out flyers. My intention for this thread is to have Prof. Smirk trying to keep up his new happy & friendly façade while getting increasingly stressed, resisting the temptation to revert to his old lecture style (ie short-tempered diatribes against any topic that catches his attention, and Celestia help anyone trying to argue). However, RPing is a collaborative process, so this may end up going in a completely different direction (and I have no objections if this happens, sometimes that's the most fun part of RP). Some questions: Does this RP sound like something you'd like to be part of? Does anyone have any handy forum-specific RP tips that I may not have picked up from the guides already available on the site? Is anyone currently RPing any Stalliongrad University affiliated characters, either student or lecturer? If so, would you be willing to give me advice on how much the setting has been developed? Are there any issues with this that don't appeared to have occurred to me? Is this a terrible idea which I should feel ashamed for having had? If you have an answer to any of these questions, please reply here. I expect to have the first post ready to go up tomorrow (it's past midnight for me, and the only reason I'm posting this now is so I can't back out without losing face), unless any major issues become apparent. Thanks for your time, and I look forward to role-playing with you.
  11. It was, all in all, a fairly cool August afternoon in Stalliongrad - not that this meant much, it was still warm enough for clothes to be entirely optional, depending on one's trade and social standing. A bit of a quiet day, though, but such was reasonably normal for a Thursday afternoon this time of the year. After all, one tended to get armor in the spring or the fall, and leave the adventuring for the warmth of summer or the chill of winter. There were a number of trades-mares and stallions open for business - one business in particular, though, stood out. A smithy, a somewhat small one, in the merchant district - a bit out of place, but it had done well enough there, for the time being. From the outside, it seemed sturdier than most of the shops, a fairly stocky-looking stone wood and metal affair, centred around a thick stone chimney. A bit out of place, perhaps, as most of the forges were in the somewhat distant Kuznitza district, but nevertheless there. Outside, a small and empty cart waited next to the doorway, nearly hiding the sign that proudly announced, in both Stallian and Equestrian, 'Metalhoof Smithy - Made-to-order and custom armour, jewelry and more available here'. A fairly reputable establishment, if anypony thought to check, though it was in the hooves of a relatively new owner, passed from father to son upon the former's retirement. But, for all of its outer appearances, the interior of the smithy held an altogether different atmosphere... "Stolen? AGAIN!?" A heavy sigh, and a deep breath. "This is being, what, second shipment where you are bringing no silver, no gold, no gems, and only half of iron or steel I have ordered! What am I supposed to be forging with this?" The budding blacksmith shook his head, pacing slowly about behind the counter, his prosthetic metal hoof clanking with every fourth step he took. "I ran out of precious metals before start of last week, was telling customers I would to be starting on their orders as soon as I had shipment. But, nyet, at this rate going to have to melt down money for precious metals!" Indeed, things were not all well at the Metalhoof smithy, and given by the fact that the deep, somewhat raspy voice of the blacksmith working there, it was starting to get on somepony's nerves. It had indeed been some time since precious metals had been in stock at the smithy, and it was starting to have serious impacts on Hammerhoof's ability to make anything that required the special bit of shine that silver and gold offered. Robberies weren't really the fault of the delivery-pony, he'd just been taking the routes into Stalliongrad that were available, and it so happened that a pack of Diamond Dogs decided to mug him for everything they felt like carrying. The first time, he'd let it slide, simply complaining about the loss at the quick-footed, dark-green pony who'd been mugged - after all, it made sense that the delivery-pony would learn from the mistake and change habits accordingly. Second time, though... this was a problem. He advertised armour, utensils, weapons, tools and simple jewelry for sale in his shop, and ye he lacked the materials to fill the most expensive orders, which meant that his most profitable work was all on hold. The brown, somewhat sooty blacksmith simply sighed. He knew the shipment was important, he knew the delivery-pony knew the shipment was important. Getting overly cross wouldn't solve anything, so he lowered his voice, nodding slowly. "I can't even use these gems yet. Is not often somepony wants gems set in iron, copper or steel. I will take them, da, and you will still be receiving some pay, but... I am not sure what to be doing. A third time of this, and you will be costing me enough to put me back in apprenticeship. I do not want for this. Am already going to have to dig into own savings to keep from being broke..." For all that this was causing him difficulty, Hammerhoof didn't really feel like foregoing the payment of somepony else over conditions that were likely out of their control. After all, the delivery-pony had to eat and sleep somewhere - the blacksmith wasn't going to scrooge him out of that. The fact of the matter was simple – somewhere, there were a pack of diamond-dogs that were responsible for a rather harrowing predicament. He had a lot of missing materials to try and work around, a reputation teetering between success and a lack thereof, and he wasn't entirely sure of how to solve this issue. Yes, it was a theft, but through official channels, solving his issue might not come soon enough for him to stay in business. What he needed was a plan, and volunteers. That, or for the majority of his customers to suddenly be overwhelmingly happy with steel and iron in place of silver and gold for their jewelry – no, that was a silly and entirely improbable thing to hope for. So, with the delivery-pony half-paid and on his way out the door, the blacksmith began to ponder. He'd put up a few notices of his need for help on the larger advertisement boards, more of a desparate hope that he might recover his first lost shipment. "Blacksmith in need of expert treasure-recovery, adventurers, or trackers re : stolen shipments. See Metalhoof Smithy", written in slightly clumsy Stallian and Equestrian. It was all well and good to use the native tongue, but this was a big city, with enough trade and travel through it that being bilingual was nearly a must. But now, more than ever, the hope that somepony might come to his aid felt like a rather despnate wish, whimsical and as uncertain as a shooting star. Peraps this was how the gambler felt when buying his last lottery ticket? What a depressing situation. Though he held hope for perhaps somepony to come by looking to aid him, he started trying to figure out best to hold out financially. Maybe, just maybe, he could work through this regardless. Only time would tell.
  12. Snowfall glanced around somewhat anxiously. This was it, the moment she had long been fearing and anticipating. Since meeting her fillyfriend Pathfinder, she hadn't really had a chance yet to really present her. Their first date happened in the seclusion of Bareback Gulch, where Snowfall was unknown. Their second date, Daringcon, happened in a very busy location full of many ponies who might have had connections, but Snowfall had been in costume, her coat completely painted up and a fake unicorn horn on her head to make her look like a Daring Do character. Now it was time for the third, and here they were in Snowfall's own Stalliongrad. The occasion was an NSI company party. This wasn't like the elaborate anniversary banquet she had held not too many months ago that had lead to her finding her contacts for the Trans Equestria Railroad Project, it was a more insular and private occasion held to celebrate team solidarity or some such thing that the board had decided upon and that she was pretty sure most there would roll their eyes at. Everyone there was either employed by the company, or there as a guest of somepony who was. Relatively formal dress was expected, but Snowfall was making an effort to keep it from being too stuffy an occasion. There was nothing worse than some mandatory party being forced upon the employees that it was impossible to have fun at. The music was kept light and modern; the food kept equally light and plentiful. They had drinks, but nothing too aggressively strong. The decorations to the hall being used were colorful but not garish. Everything was very safe, and in Snowfall's opinion perhaps a little too so. This was a good chance to debut with Pathfinder besides her though. It was just her company, so for fear of their job no pony there was going to say anything about her rather unorthodox choice of date. It was formal by Pathfinder's standards, but it wasn't so classy and stuck up itself that she would catch the judging eyes of a bevy of upper crust types just for being Pathfinder. It was small, it was safe, and it was a perfect opportunity; after all, she had no intention of hiding Pathfinder from anypony. She was also rather eager to see the pony in something other than her typical Daring Do costume. She was already picturing it in her head. Unfortunately, Snow and her date were not able to show up to the event together. Pathfinder had been doing what she did best, adventuring, but Snow had given her the time and address and in her letter Pathfinder had promised she would make it in time. Snowfall just knew that she would make good on that promise too, even if she turned up just slightly late. This was fine. it gave her time to mingle with the rest of her loyal employees. Set to do just that, Snow's eyes focused in on a single young face. Sparks was his name, and he was a bright young colt. It was hard not to feel good about his case. She had handed him a shining opportunity after stumbling upon him by chance. After training he had spent a little over a month and a half in Manehattan, and according to her top engineer, Vivid Flair, he had been a sterling asset to the team as they worked on the Railroad Project. He had only just got back to Stalliongrad and this was the first time Snow had seen him since. Greetings were definitely in order. "Hello, Sparks," she said as she approached him. "It's great to see you've returned safely. How was Manehattan?"
  13. Another day, another contract. Unfortunately, this one just so happened to land Martel in a city he absolutely loathed. Compared to the average town in Germaney, Stalliongrad was a dirty, disgusting, sprawling, derelict, nasty town filled with terrible drink and starving masses. Martel Von Starkhuf didn't hate the ponies and gryphons that lived here, he found them rugged and charming, traits that he missed from his home. The city itself just elicited a nausea from the Stallion that left him on the threshold of retching every ten minutes or so. Why, out of all the places on the map, did his target choose to take refuge here? "Verdammt, Ich hasse das." he muttered to himself. The mercenary always followed the contract, no matter where it took them, if only his client hadn't offered so many bits... That was beside the point, all Martel wanted to focus on now was simply finding his target and taking care of them, then he could go home! The job was just to deliver a message, a very violent message with plenty of exclamation points and property damage. Well, the town certainly lived up to expectations. Martel found himself wandering a narrow street, lined with dirt and grime and even dirtier ponies. He tossed a couple bits there way and continued on, not giving them a second glance. Normally he'd be far friendlier, but he was on the clock. The large stallion reached a dead end in the alley and grunted in frustration. This was getting ridiculous, he was never going to find the pony he was looking for if he continued to play it safe. Darn the consequences, he needed to find this guy and SOON. Martel reached into his tunic and pulled out Zornstahl, his most prized possession that happened to be a massive hammer. He observed it in the dirty light, and after giving it a quick polish with his cloak to remove the thin layer of grime, he attached it to the end of his tail. The large mercenary gave it a few experimental swings before slamming it into a nearby wall, fracturing it and nearly smashing right through the thing. Smiling and filled with a sense of power, Martel left the dead end and let his hammer dangle behind him in plain sight. The pony he was looking had better watch out, he had a Von Starkhuf coming after him.
  14. [[ OOC: We still have positions available for crew members. If you're interested please visit this thread: http://www.canterlot...project-revamp/ ]] Another swish of the mop on the deck cleared out the last specks of dirt and grime. The crew had been busy loading supplies and spare parts for the ship in the past hour. Grandya had just finished taking note of their stock and was about to report to the Captain until she found the top deck in bad shape. With the rest of the crew busy there was no one to mop the deck. She took it upon herself as she hauled a bucket from down below and started mopping. The ship had just docked at the famous Ostrov air docks a few hours ago for maintenance and to gather fresh supplies. The bustling city was a testament not only to Pony kind but to other races as well. Griffons, Buffaloes, Zebras and even Diamond Dogs called the city home. It was the perfect place for the Freedom Wing to stop and pick up more hopeful crew members who were willing to join. It was just about time for lunch and Grandya couldn't help think what their crazy Diamond Dog chef was cooking up this time. Last time she almost swallowed a small Ruby that was in her Tomato soup. Gravy said it would bring out the flavor but Grandya couldn't just see the logic behind putting gems in food to improve their taste. She'd complain to the Captain but she would just shrug it off and laugh. Done with the mopping she put it aside and made her way to the Captain's cabin. "Everything's in order Capt'n." She said as she entered the cabin. "Our supply hold is almost filled but we're still going to need a new engineer. I've got to go down to the city later and ask around the taverns to see if anypony is willing to join our crew."
  15. The young mare flew happily in the snowy skies, loving to feel the cold in her wings. A wide smile filled her muzzle, and she just couldn't help but to giggle to herself as she performed spins and other tricks in the air. She was a dancer and a singer after all, and having wings was one of her greatest gifts. And her hometown Stalliongrad seemed to be just as beautiful as she remembered when she was just a filly. Today she would move to her temporary room, and she had heard she would have somepony else join her. The letters she had received over the months had brought her curiosity to the edge, even if she wasn't an easy social pony. Once she arrived to the address she was given, she noticed a wagon outside. Well, why not to take a quick peek? She landed gently and with elegance over top of the wagon, and found a few instruments laying in there already. That of course brought her memories of the songs she used to listen to in her foalhood, which made her want to start singing in her pure beautiful voice while she lyed down over the wagon:
  16. The dark brown unicorn almost chuckled at the earth pony's obvious pride at the mention of her alma mater. He wasn't surprised, as that particular brand of pride was one he himself had expressed. That aside, her description of the academy recalled vague discussion of the school to his mind. It seemed that he had in fact heard of the school before, though it was likely that he hadn't entirely been focused on listening to that particular discussion. The unicorn very rarely was invested in any way in the more vapid aspects of the social class into which he had been born. Unlike most upper class ponies, he'd never cared for the forced etiquette of discussion that they practised. It had been one of the things that pushed him more toward the common colts when he was younger. In fact, this seemed to be a fact noticed by Argenta, as she enquired on it only moments later. "Well, that is certainly their loss. The ponies outside the business world are always the ones with the stories to tell. If nothing else, it does wonders for marketing that even the most snobbish pony should be able to recognize. Personally, I always take time to other ponies. It's the most interesting part of life, and certainly more interesting than just occupying my time with business. It may be my work, but this," he gestured widely at the general area around them, "is my passion."
  17. Bass snapped back to consciousness, after falling asleep in his chair, and looked around. She's still buying paintings? Wow.
  18. Bass smiled at Persnickety, taking the last bite of his ponini, and chewing as she spoke, swallowing before speaking again. "I completely agree. And perhaps even get to know each other a tad better."
  19. Whisperpaw hadn't introduced his self to the mare. She was trying to introduce him to Leo, but was struggling because she didn't know Whisperpaw's name. As she as the whispering stallion was, he knew he'd have to speak. "Whisperpaw..." He spoke in a small whisper that reflected how shy he really was.
  20. Scoundrel was getting impatient. These two kept talking about going to buy taffy, but they have yet to actually go and get it. "Yes. Food. Sounds great. So, Verity, was it?" She turned her head towards the zebra. "You said you know this place. Where's the best place to get that taffy?" Just a little longer. Hold out just a little longer and you can get some food. The thought of food made her stomach rumble again.
  21. It wasn't very often that Deep Bass was given the opportunity to take a vacation. Especially not bby himself. It was a strange, yet nice change for Bass to get some time to himself, since he was normally hanging around with his friend Mid Wobble, or his sister. It was nice to spend time with his friend and his sister, but occasionally, it was nice to get a little alone time... even if he was still technically working. Yes, even though Bass was on vacation, he was only in Stalliongrad to play a few shows at the local coffee houses. As Bass cantered through the streets of the snowy city, his guitar case slung over his back, he was beginning to wonder if he was lost. He looked around, watching the other ponies going up and down the streets, wondering if he should ask for directions. After a second of internal debate, he decided against it, and instead kept going. Though he had spent his life in Fillydelphia, and the surrounding cities, Bass was always fond of the snow. In fact, he always wished that Winter never ended, and that the beauty of the snow would never fade. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, Bass finally stumbled upon a small club, and decided to go inside. Once Bass had made it in the door, he began noting the surroundings through his amber aviators. The whole interior consisted of red walls, and blue tables, chairs, and booths, complete with a neon blue carpet. Bass didn't even think to look at the name of the club before entering. Not like it really mattered, to be honest. Bass quickly took a seat, and waited for the waitress to come over. As he waited, Bass reached into his saddlebag, and pulled out the letter from the club, and read over it, to himself. "'Dear, Deep Bass...' blah blah blah, 'We, the management at the Blushing Ivory...' Ah! That was the name of the club! The Blushing Ivory... Hm... Maybe somepony, here knows where that is." "Good morning, sir. How may I help you, today?" Bass looked up, and saw the waitress pony, and offered a kind smile. He pondered for a second, and answered in the kind of polite tone that only the long humbled son of an opera singer, and a jazz musician could muster. "Good morning, ma'am. I would very much appreciate a glass of hot black tea, if you carry it." The waitress smiled, and nodded. "Of course, sir. I'll have that right out to you." Then, the mare cantered off. Waiting patiently for his tea, Bass looked around at the other ponies who had wandered into the club that morning.
  22. “ Local hounds usually rely on Stallian or Kanine. Can provide at least one of these.” Silversword watched the blacksmith carefully, idly wondering if his desire to help was for their good, or for his own. Did he believe that the two that offered to help him would run off with his product? Why, the very thought! Silver bristled slightly, but decided to go with the thought that the stallion trusted the pair and merely wanted to help them. Her head turned towards the armor-clad filly, watching as she introduced herself. Glancing over the armor, she noticed a great many dents in it, and it didn’t seem properly fitted to the filly. “Ah, so she wears the armor she means to return,” the mare thought to herself as she observed the two ponies in the room. “At least it’s somewhere she can keep an eye on it..” She snorted with laughter, forgetting herself for a second, before composing herself again. “No weapon, Kite?” She asked, standing. “You’ve gotten rather far without one. While it seems that you are best-suited to work with your armor..” She crouched slightly, getting to the filly’s level. “What do you think about carrying a weapon, just in case? I haven’t dealt with Diamond Dogs very much, but appearing to be a bigger threat than what you really are is rather useful.” The swordsmare glanced at the chocolate stallion. “Seeing as you seem eager enough to go, and strong enough..” Silver stretched out, wings shuffling under her cloak. “I would be glad if you came. You know the surrounding area better than either of us. As long as you can hold your own, we ought to be fine. Where would they stay for the night, however? It would take the blacksmith some time to complete fitting the filly, fixing her armor, and getting prepared for himself. Silversword could always go out and survey the area, check to see if she could get provisions somewhere (It would be tiresome work, walking all over in armor), or speak to other locals that were having issues as well, to see if they could offer any tips about Diamond Dogs. There was the language barrier, however, and the gray pegasus wasn't entirely sure that the ponies of Stalliongrad would take kindly to her "poking" about, in search of information. She sighed. The blacksmith wouldn't appreciate two ponies idling about his shop all day, and Silversword felt that there were things to be done. But how? Without a mutual language.. Unless Hammerhoof could help?
  23. (( Request this thread be closed since we're missing 2 of our RPers who haven't posted in a while. Thanks! ))
  24. Everypony had signed the paper, and Max gleefully rolled the parchment up and tucked it into a pocket. "I'll spread the word, we'll begin as soon as physically possible." Maximilian looked first at the Griffon, noting her powerful stare. He knew that the griffon families were not to be trifled with. This deal had to be approached with the utmost caution, lest an honest error be perceived as an attempt to double cross her. The Rockefilly returned her look with one of his own, grinning wide with a fire in his eyes as he spoke. "I know full well of the power you and your family posses, just as you are aware of mine. This is an honest deal, over time you will see that." He looked at Snowfall next, "I believe with the three of us working together, we can achieve anything."
  25. This high above the city, there was almost no sound. The sighing of the thin air past his ears as he spiraled to keep altitude. The gentle rustle of wind in his feathers. The delicate tinkling of ice crystals forming in his mane and tail and falling away, to be borne aloft on the same winds he rode. Parhelion closed his eyes, as he often did, savoring the quiet and the easy exhilaration. He banked instinctually, catching a rising wind, and as it moved him almost straight up he heard the steady rhythm of his heart and the surrussation of blood in his ears. He smiled, opening his eyes again. Stalliongrad lay below, covered in snow and ice whose whites were taking on magnificient golds and reds and deep blues as the sun began to set. The city hugged a bend in the River Stadia, spreading out from a long island there which was its heart and original home. Smoke, like streamers of thin cotton, raked across the city from its numerous industries. Airships, which looked like crawling dots from here but which were in reality majestic giants of the air, moved to and fro, docking at their destinations to drop off supplies or heading out to carry fine Stalliongrad goods to the rest of Equestria and beyond. The foothills and mountains to the south, which helped shape the very winds Parhelion was riding now, seemed undeveloped, a stretch of deep green and white broken by proud mountains and crags of snow-covered rocks, but Parhelion knew the city's wealthy and visitors from faraway were there now, enjoying winter sports and the sights from their highland estates. Here and there he could see irregular patches where timber was harvested, and other areas where the forest had been replanted and was growing back. A flash of light from the city caught his attention. It winked up at him, once, then twice, then once again. Shift change. The grey pegasus waggled his broad wings to the show the observers below he had received the signal. He felt a stiffness in his left wing, and gave it a quick peek. There was a pine bough caught in it. What? He flicked his wing, but the thing would not come free. In fact, it was more than one pine bough. Several, a whole branch. Suddenly they were everywhere, all around him, hemming him in— Parhelion came to. He was surrounded by the scent of pines. Sticky sap plastered his mane, coat, and feathers. There were needles everywhere. He could just see the moonlit ground...far above? With a sudden lurch he realized he was upside-down, stuck in a tree. His head hurt, and he groaned. Cold night wind rocked the tree, causing his stomach to flip-flop. “Help? Hello?” Par coughed, and pine needles drifted away. They were in his mouth, gross! He spit them out as best he could and tried again. “Hello? Help!” He took a deep breath and shouted as loudly as he could. “Hello! Help!”
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