The Whitescar Exhibit (Sponsored)

[Pretzelparty]

 

Sigrun had volunteered for a very important mission,  although unlike many of the quests she oh-so-often partook in, this one required diplomacy rather than violence... and with the ponies of Equestria no less! The Chieftain of the Askr Clan had been interacting with ponies much more often than she normally would, a development she had to attribute to her sister's influence on her life. Sadly it seemed that The clan's  high priestess was going to be unable to attend this occasion, but that just meant that this particular cow was goign to have to pull twice the weight; a challenge she welcomed with open hooves.

 

The 'Jarl' of Askr had made sure to make the best of the space that she was allotted for this event. She'd made sure that given the still somewhat wary ponies of equestria's recent brush with the rebel clan of Olin that her own came in piece for this expo, as such she'd forgone almost all weaponry save for her own personal sword which rarely left her side anyway; were left back home. Only nonthreatening exhibits were at this section of the exposition. Despite the species' of whitescar's reputation for the love of battle, they did considerably more than make weapons and implements to do eachother harm. At the entrance of the exhibit's and various stalls were a series of banners representing the various clans united under the High king Dragonsong.

 

Beyond the rows of symbol stamped banners laid a multitude of small stalls offering various things that exemplified Caribou culture, Woodcarvings, Jewelry, art and even some of the rarely seen caribou fashion that wasn't designed to protect the wearer from stray arrows! There were even some very fragrant and delightful smelling dishes and snack stalls using caribou recipes and ingredients from Whitescar. The silver eyed cow's personal favourite exhibit was the one in the center of the circle of stalls. She'd brought one of her clan's flying longboats to the expo and it was open for anypony or other species to step in and explore... thankfully only her clan knew how to make the boat fly so there was no risk of having some mischievous foals try and take the vessel for a joy-ride. All around the sides of the boat were numerous tapestries and paintings and carvings depicting caribou heroes and legends and one very large stone stood before the bow of the vessel, depicting a battle of golems battling a gigantic lyndwurm; presumably the World serpent of myth...

Sigrun was currently standing proudly at the bow of the vessel she brought, as if a lookout for approaching visitors. She'd taken a few herbs her sister had reccomended so she could better tolerate the equestrian climate... they weren't ridding the Jarl of her nasal ills but at least she likely wouldn't be letting out one of her characteristic kingdom/city shaking sneezes anytime soon. To signal that the exhibit was open, She approached a large horn situated near the bow and took a deep breath before blowing with skill...

 

(ooc: so you get an idea what the horn sounds like.) 

 https://youtu.be/w05Yknc42uM 

[Imagination]

 

 

Whitescar...

 

He had never been, but ever since the invasion almost half a year ago, it seemed like more ponies than ever were venturing into Caribou territory. What did they find there? Well, that he was interested in? Temples. Shrines. Ruins. Treasure. Usually in their trecherous burial sites and the like, so most seemed to steer clear. The natives, out of respect. The visitors, out of fear. Fear of what? Darkness? Some dust? Maybe a spider or two? Trailblazer was certainly a bit arrogant in his thinking, but he couldn't think of what could possibly be in those dank old halls of stone that could keep him away from a good haul. 

 

What better an opportunity than to learn firsthand? At the World Expo? So many things to see, but of course the Caribou caught his eye first and foremost. For more reasons than the airship. 

 

Indeed, he knew very well who the Chieftain was. He had just never seen her in the flesh. And goodness, she was a looker. Not a lady to take lightly, of course. She was of a proud warrior race, of course! But perhaps she might know about these supposed rumors of treasures... And, with so many displays around he may be able to see what he's in for firsthoof!

 

The sound of the horn brought his attention to the bow of that large ship, the pretty cow in questions playing it as if to announce her arrival. Or the opening. Whichever. But he made his way past the barriers and, he had to say, already the Caribou were growing on him. It seemed a rustic culture, theirs, but efficient for their environment! Lovely works of art too! There was something very alluring about a good wood carving. Had thought so ever since he was a foal. The intricate detail and attention to the whole thing was remarkable. He could never do it, he didn't have the talent. But that's what the carvers themselves were around for, right? The best he could do was whittle a stick. 

 

He'd have to take a look at the jewelry display later. For now, he had a lady to call upon.

 

"A lovely display, Miss Sigrun!" He called to her, wearing a friendly smile. "You are Sigrun, of course? I've heard so much about you!"

[Pretzelparty]

 

 

Thank, Tuktu someone actually decided to appear... and a pony at that! Sigrun was quite glad that at least one visitor of the Equine persuasion chose to show up. She wasted no time to engage the newcomer, taking a hold of a long bit of rope she'd prepared for a speedy descent she swung off and landed right before the stallion with a resounding stomp as her four cloven hooves met the ground. The copper coated cow loweered her chin slightly to look the visitor in the eyes, a pleasant smile on her face before she spoke. "Thank you, Sir!" she said in that usual boisterous register of hers, a contralto that fit the leader of a clan such as hers, "I tried to make this exhibit as appealing as I could... and, yes I am Sigrun." 

 

The cow stood quite tall above the stallion, even when she bent a foreleg slightly and inclined her neck in a bow (minding her horns as always). She flinched a moment as a dandellion on the ground almost met her face, but aquick maneuver... also known as "lifting her head back up" had saved her and most likely Trailblazer's eardrums. "I dare ask what you've been heard whispered about me... I hope nothing scandalous has come up." She said with a faintly mischievous chuckle as she made her way over to the carving at the bow of the boat. 

 

A long row of strong looking ornamental shields lined both the port and starboard sides of her, many of them bearing images of caribou warriors anyone who may have studied the regions history could recognize. Ulfric the Tall, Sigmund the quick, Arvid the Implacable, so many mighty bulls and cows, their images lovingly emblazoned on each one. "Do you have any particular subject you wish to learn about the land of Whitescar, our mytholgy, history, cuisine perhaps?" She asked with an enthusiastic glint in her eye, nonchalantly scrubbing a hoof at her snout.

[Imagination]

 

Trailblazer returned her bow, if only to be respectful. In all honesty, he thought he was the one who was supposed to be bowing to her. But, a lesson for another time. It was a surreal experience, in a way, having the opportunity to meet one of the Caribou leadership. A friendly one at that! As he looked on with Sigrun as the intricate shields upon the vessel. Indeed, he could recognize a couple, but unfortunately not all of the heroes depicted. His knowledge of Caribou culture was sadly minimal. 

 

What? He was more than boots, knives and grave robbing! Trailblazer had a great interest in history! It paid to do his research, very much so! 

 

"I hope you'll pardon my incredible rudeness thus far, Miss Sigrun, but I know your name and I've neglected to introduce myself! My name is Trailblazer, and I can't say I've heard an ill word of you, Miss, no. Of course, you are the best part of this whole exhibit, if the Lady will excuse me saying so" he cleared his throat, not wanting to try and lay on too much charm too soon "But I apologize for being fresh, I'm actually a big history buff, and was hoping to learn more about your people! The Caribou have such a fascinating, hardy culture, yet I sadly know very little about where it all began! There are plenty of wonderful books illustrating it all, but I'd like to hear it from the mouth of a native, personally. I don't suppose you could assist me with that?"

 

He was hoping to talk shop first and get it out of the way. Then maybe see what the Caribou dine on afterwards. The smells were pretty intoxicating, but that may just be because he had neglected breakfast. Needless to say, he may be making an expedition to Whitescar very soon, depending on what he learns here. Heck, he might just go anyway!

[RarityDash]

Randgrid of Heil-Barn strode across the park green without armor, cloak or hammer but only a jovial grin upon her face. It had been long since she had ventured to the pony lands, not since leaving the Crystal Empire in the aftermath of the Fairetime disaster. many long months had been spent across the frozen wilds of Whitescar, hunting down those loyal to enemy clans in the name of her dear father. Upon hearing tell of the event happening in Manehattan, however, the Friendship Expo for which her good friend Sigrun, Jarl of Askr would be sharing the culture of the caribou with the rest of her world, the famed Valkyrie of Heil had decided to head immediately in that direction to join in in the festivities.

 

Immediately in arriving in the city, Randgrid proceeded headlong to the caribou booth, which was not hard to find. She spied the Jarl there in conversation with a stallion already and happened to overhear a bit of the exchange.

 

"The caribou way is the way of battle! Whether it be with beasts or giants, dragons or more common scum, it is strength and valor, tempered by the undying spirit of camaraderie we share which does sculpt the frozen lands we call our home!" Randgrid forced herself into the discussion in a loud and boisterous voice.

 

She stepped toward Sigrun then and forced her into the tightest bear hug she could. "Jarl Sigrun, my friend and caribou sister... it has been too many months!" She declared. "I have come to this distant land to assist you this day in bolstering the unity between all of our nations and sharing the culture of my dear father's proud kingdom!"

 

She let go of the Jarl then and started to examine the booth. "Aha, such a wonderful assortment of things," she said as she meandered toward one of the food stalls and started to gorge herself.

​

[Pretzelparty]

 

Sigrun chuckled softly at Traiblazer’s compliment, “You flatter me, Trailblazer. I’m no stranger to such compliments but there are many other things here that exemplify our culture better than a single cow.” It was then that the cow heard a booming and familiar voice. It took less than a second to realize whom that voice belonged to, "It seems you and everyone else are in for a treat today. May I present to you, Princess Rangrid, daughter of High-King Dragonsong." She gestured to Cow at her side, only to be seized into a hug by said female.

 

Sigrun smiled at Randgrid and hugged right back before she was eventually let go, "It is wonderful to see you again, Randgrid! I will look forward to your assistance in teaching the other lands about the glory and history of our land." She laughed heartily as the princess began to gorge herself, "Do try to leave some food for the visitor, will you?" The silver eyed cow turned back to face trailblazer, "SO you are interested in the history of our lands are you? Somehow I thought you'd be more the type into mythology... but then again the two subjects these days aren't mutually exclusive. Feel free to ask me anything you wish, I've even some visual aids present as you've seen"  

[Blueblood]

It was a task and a half to arrange all the logistics of having a huge expo take over Manehattan's Central Park, not to mention ensure that all exhibition hosts had their travel and accommodation costs covered.  IMAGINE had used this as their debut task, and so far things were going pretty well.  Of course, the only founder currently on site, Prince Blueblood, couldn't personally go and watch over the various cultural shows, but he could send his secretary to look and see what was what.

 

This secretary, one Wordsworth Psmith, was an odd choice; the latest member of one of the more eccentric families in Canterlot, the young, lanky lavender unicorn had lately interested himself in politics, first coming to notice when he spoke on behalf of the first changeling defector to go public.  He'd joined IMAGINE in the first recruiting drive, and generally made himself useful in writing all the letters needed to get so many ponies to do so many things.

 

But the amount of words he wrote was dwarfed by the amount he said.  Almost nothing stopped him from talking, let alone the fact that he rarely had anything relevant to say.  The sound of his voice, not especially loud but quite clear, preceded him by a good minute.  "And so are we all comrades, bound against darkness and despair in unbreakable solidarity; which rather sounds like one is being mashed together like dates left in a grocer's shop.  But no matter!  It is good building material for cheap."

 

Behind those rambling remarks came a rambling young stallion, who in his very person seemed to be molded in contrast to the caribou.  There was not much in the way of... anything, really, on his bodily frame; his conservatively-cut suit clashed with the rough fabrics, furs, and armors on display.  About the only good he'd be in a fight would be talking the hind legs off an enemy, which was only a slight exaggeration of his verbal capabilities.  Still, the single eyeglass through which he gazed at the gathered company only magnified the humor in his eye, and he greeted the company with a smile.

 

"And we are graced, it seems, with two visitors of distinction from the far north.  The cry goes 'round the castle walls; 'set out the red carpets and plush furs, we greet those born into favor and those who rise by merit.'  Though I am far from implying, comrades, that the former method renders the recipient unworthy.  And how have you found the accommodations?  All well, I trust?"

[Imagination]

 

Trailblazer of course offered a bow for the Princess, respect rightfully paid he was sure. But, she seemed to be more interested in the food than the guests. A lady after his own heart. Or another one, at least. 

 

"Quite the treat! I never thought I would have such an opportunity!" of course, he partly hoped he wouldn't have the opportunity of one of those hugs. Even being the lean army vet and treasure hunter he was, he didn't want to end up in the vice of a caribou. He liked his ribs the way they were - intact.

 

His attention was immediately returned to Sigrun as they seemed about to talk shop, the stallion grinning as he shot off his first of many inquires "Well, mythology is certainly a big part of my interest, but I think it's always very important to know background details... Hmm..." Of course, he had to think of what that first inquiry was. Leaving the questions up to him off the bat left a pretty broad spectrum of subjects to cover. "Well, I suppose I'd like to learn about the roots of your kind. How did you all come to settle in the north?"

 

It was after this that the other young stallion had arrived. Honestly, it took Trailblazer a moment or two to process what he had said... Those moments being a bit longer than he'd like. Trailblazer was vexed to admit he had no idea who this stallion was. He wasn't familiar with IMAGINE as much as most, which likely accounted for this. In fact, when he first heard of it in papers and such, he thought it was the Prince making some publicity stunt. His question, however, seemed to be directed to the caribou. He certainly hoped the accommodations were to their liking! It wouldn't do to have two cows of such prestige have to put up with anything even potentially lackluster. 

[RarityDash]

Randgrid beamed with pride at the introduction Sigrun gave her and chuckled at her concern for eating all the food. "Of course, good Sigrun! I wouldn't deprive our guests the fine opportunity to sample these fine offerings! I shall wait to fully sate my appetite with the offerings from the many other assembled booths here. I hear they have a way fine with spices in Saddle Arabia and would be interested in seeing if it is indeed so!"

 

The jovial cow laughed pridefully as she finished what she was eating and then stepped from the stall. Just as she did, she happened to hear the words spoken by the young unicorn. Randgrid closed her eyes and listened, smiling at the words.

 

"In Whitescar you'll find few who could be said to be 'born into favor'. Just as my father did earn his title as High-King by uniting us disparate clans under his banner, my reputation is of my own making and comes not from his blood in my veins," Randgrid said, amused.

 

She nodded at the unicorn, deciding she liked him. "Are you a poet, friend? You speak with great distinction uncommon to many of your Equestrian brethren," she commented approvingly. "One such as I, who has lived her life embroiled in war, has nothing but admiration for those who have mastered the use of words for their power is far greater than that on any hammer or blade."

 

She laughed and slapped the pony on the back. "That silver tongue of yours could get you far in Whitescar--though for precaution's sake I would still suggest you take some time to first put some bulk upon your spindly frame, if you ever do plan to make the trip!"

​

[Pretzelparty]

 

Sigrun blinked once as an exceedingly eloquent stallion spoke up, his demeanor reminded her of one of those many composers in her homeland...speaking of which. "Hail, Hror!" the cow boomed in a powerful voice in the direction of a caribou still on the ship, "Tell the Skalds that they may start singing, a bit of music may bring some more visitors!" 

 

The Chieftain then turned back to the newcomer, "All is quite well, Sir. I am Sigrun, Chieftain of the Askr clan of eastern Whitescar. Might I ask our newest visitor's name? I Must say he has the linguistic prowess to work with our homeland's Skalds"

 

The silver eyed cow laughed heartily at the stallion's question but quickly regained her composure with cough to clear her throat, "I apologize for the outburst but, our kind has always been in Whitescar. According to some of the stories, we 

caribou are descendents of the Stone golems who slayed the World-serpent..." The cow pointed to the gigantic stone slab depicted a large army of golems wielding mighty weapons against a monstrous serpentine monster. Just looking at the gaping maw in the drawing of the beast could make one swear they could hear it's unearthly roar screaming in the back of their minds. The wurm's massive body was partially covered by mountains of golems and being held into place.

 

"Other scholars say we just came from a smaller race that grew and adapted to become stronger and survive our harsh enviroments. Nothing has been proven as of yet I'm fond of the former background rather than the latter... but I've always been a fan of the fantastical." 

 

SIgrun scrubbed a hoof at her snout and sighed, "Please don't talk to me about spices, Randgrid... I went to try some of that saddle arabian food and as they added that spice you speak of I think I may have rendered one of thier chefs deaf for a while ..." With a soft chuckle she looked back to Randgrid and Trailblazer, "So any more questions, sir?"

[Blueblood]

There was much merit in Randgrid's suggestion that Psmith would benefit from a fuller frame should he ever visit Whitescar.  Nothing demonstrated this so well as the sheer physics behind the enthusiastic caribou's greeting; the slap on his back practically bounced him like a basketball!  To do him credit, though, his expression remained unperturbed even as his monocle was swinging wildly loose on his string.  It was a matter of pride among Canterlot nobles never to be seen off-guard, whether they felt discombobulated or not.

 

"Ahem, well said, comrade... ah, apologies, I don't believe we've been introduced."  Slotting the eyeglass back into his shirt pocket, the young unicorn bowed to both of the caribou present.  "My name is Wordsworth Psmith; that is, Psmith spelled P-S-M-I-T-H.  The 'p' is silent, as in Pterodactyl, or ptarmigan."  Leaving aside whether such examples meant anything more than random syllabification to his conversation partners, Psmith skipped blithely along to the subject of poetry.  To mention any subject in his presence was to put one at risk of receiving a monologue, and this case was no exception.

 

"A poet?  Yes, though of little distinction in verse; though if one surveys the whole field from the grand height of a wider view, most poets have written in prose.  After all, what is poet, save one who, possessing culture and intelligence, uses them to understand and express the convictions and sentiments of his kind better than they could themselves, and so make them great.  There are, of course, a much inferior class of beings who use the same gifts to contradict and belittle their fellow citizens and make them feel ignorant and small; these are called professors, though I myself prefer the term prig.  It can embody more disgust."

 

A frown crossed his face for a moment in contemplation of several specimens of that genus, but it was soon banished by the sound of music.  "Ah, now that is, as a dear friend of mine would say, 'the stuff.'  Would you not agree?"  And here he turned to address his fellow-pony.

[Imagination]

 

Psmith, eh? Of course, admittedly he did think of 'S-M-I-T-H' at first, but the stallion going into great detail about the spelling and pronunciation confused him a bit. Seemed unnecessary at first... But, he remembered that a lot of ponies take pride in their name. nothing worse than having your name misspelled on an official document, or said incorrectly among your peers. That's what he chalked the pony's explanation up to, anyway.

 

Attention back to the lovely Sigrun, Trailblazer actually found the Chieftain's laugh quite contagious, not offended in the least bit, even if he knew it was at him and his question. It was good to hear a good, hearty laugh around here. Descendants of Stone Golums? He followed along with the illustrations as she spoke, smiling as he listened. It would probably seem a bit far-fetched to most, but after the things he'd seen in ancient temples, he could believe almost anything. Though indeed, this World-serpent looked quite ferocious... But, as with any war story, it was probably a litter exaggerated. He knew better than to voice his thoughts on that, however.

 

"Fascinating! You know, I'm more a fan of the fantastic as well. Makes things far more interesting, and this is certainly a history your people can be proud of! Of course, if your scholars say different, surely there's some proof to back what you believe? I mean, unfortunately everything dies. Your ancestors must have burial sites? Tombs, temples, artifacts...? Things of that nature?"

 

He came to the subject at hand much sooner than he expected, but it didn't make much of a difference in the end. He awaited her answer eagerly, the cow having his absolute, full attention.

[RarityDash]

Randgrid laughed heartily at Sigrun's story about her experience at the Saddle Arabian booth. "That nose of yours is a marvel, good Sigrun--powerful as lindworm's roar, but sensitive as a wilting flower," she observed in her amusement.
 

She chuckled some more and then turned her attention firmly back on Wordsworth. "Well met, my new young friend! I am Randgrid of Heil-Barn, as I believe you did hear when the good Jarl so boldly announced it," she said with all her usual good cheer

 

She considered that of which the youth spoke and found little by which she could compare it to in her own culture. Wordsworth spoke with great acuity when it came to the matter of poetry. Poetry was about heightening something, making it great--elevating it to something more than it was, something great and triumphant which would last across the ages. That was why it was so well appreciated in her father's halls. To use one's shrewdness to instead demean and make small was surely egregious offense.

 

"I cannot say I am so familiar with these 'professors' of which you speak, but they sound both dubious and dangerous. It is doubtless that in Whitescar such an unscrupulous lot as they would be cast out into the Southern Wilds and left to their own devices," the caribou said with all sincerity, chuckling some more.

​

[Pretzelparty]

 

"A pleasure to meet you, Wordsworth... you ponies always have such perfectly appropriate names. It's like your parent's are able to see into your futures." she said with a laugh before turning back to look at the stallion who still seemed to have quite a few questions. It seemed that the princess was getting along with Mister Psmith so, Sigrun figured she may as well focus on the pony who had a few inquiries.

 

"Well as of yet, nothing but our species' own strength and constitution. But indeed there are many burial sites in Whitescar... We call them Barrows. There were many methods of burying the deceased in our homeland but different clans tend to handle it differently. Our clan's own method usually to burn our fallen and their favored possessions so the necromancers don't get to them." The caribou sighed in dissapointment for a moment before continuing, "However, this is a fairly new practice as there are many tombs and crypts full of our oldest dead dotting the eastern forests where we call home so a few of those disgusting spellmakers are rising small but still skilled forces of undead herds to defend them as they conduct whatever foul experiments they do..." 

 

"As for artifacts there's one thing being held in one of the most dangerous crypts in the east by a necromancer of great renown. I've been hoping to go in and clear the place out but she has enough dead there to raise a small army and she's dug in there like a tick working on some unholy alchemical abomination... I apologize this subject is become far too heavy. " The Jarl laughed awkwardly before perking up a bit, "The artifact there was actually a rare blade that was held by one of my ancestors; made from some mysterious material that fell from the sky. It was supposed to be handed off to her kin but it was left with her by mistake while they buried. The records are lost as to what the blade was able to do... but supposedly make her own of my clan's greatest berserkers."

 

the cow scoffed with a chuckle, "It's this equestrian climate! I'm so used to the cold snows of our homeland I can barely breath here without taking a special concoction to calm my senses. I'm surprised that you weren't sneezing your head off the last time I saw you." she said with a jab at the princess' side in jest.

[Blueblood]

Upon hearing the Caribou Princess introduce herself, Wordsworth bowed with the languid grace that characterized most of his movements.  It was not so much that he could not move any faster as that he refused to do so at anypony's bidding but his own.  "Well met then, Comrade Randgrid.  You will forgive, I hope, the compression of all titles into the universal honorific.  I believe quite strongly in the egalitarian philosophy, in so far as that one should give all equal respect, rather than single out a few arbitrary figures for special titles.  Alas, most who ascribe to giving equal respect generally tend to give none, which fulfills the letter but denies the spirit."

 

The unicorn gave a rather theatrical sigh at that, but his tone picked up into a chuckle at hearing Randgrid's policy towards prigs.  "Indeed, that is a wise policy, to be enshrined as inviolable tradition spoken of with reverence through the generations!  I myself proposed a similar policy of sending the lot to the Everfree forest to my school Headmaster, who, I regret to say, did not treat the idea with the seriousness it deserved."

 

It was here that Psmith caught hearing of Jarl Sigrun's tales, and momentarily paused in his speech (which was in and of itself an exceptional occurrence) to listen in on the discussion between her and the treasure-hunter.  "A shining sword smithed from the streak of a silver star... how exciting!  Sadly, I fear, that even the greatest of weapons and weapon-wielders may be brought low by the common cold.  I should wager that has decided more battles than historians would like to admit.  It would explain why we haven't seen much of your kind this far south, Comrade Sigrun."

[Imagination]

 

So these barrows containing ancient dead and treasure are being desecrated by necromancers, and the Jarl wants one particular artifact that she herself wants to create a plan of action to retrieve? Well, this was going a lot better, and quicker, than he thought. But could he trust her? Most likely. He couldn't imagine a dishonest bone in her body... Which was probably a stretch, seeing as he just met her. Of course, even the wordly Mr. Psmith seemed to find the prospect fascinating. "Agreed, disease, no matter how slight, is vital to conquor above most else!" Aside from food. An army marches on its stomach, or so the saying goes.

 

"In that case, Miss Sigrun, I'm afraid I must say I haven't been entirely honest about my interest. That's not to say I've been lying, of course-" he assured with a cheeky smile. He could never lie to a pretty face. Well, not too much. "While it's true I have a great interest in history and mythology, it's because I'm a treasure-hunter of some renown! Now that you mention this sword you wish to get your lovely hooves on, I believe we can help eachother out!" It was only recently that he had started taking contracts. They had been proving quite lucrative! And usually less... illegal. "I'd like to offer you my services! But I don't want to pressure you, miss, and I know informing you of this is all rather sudden"

 

Sudden indeed! The conversation took a quick turn from 'lets talk about history' to 'I'll jump into a barrow and risk zombification to get you an ancient and powerful sword!'

 

Of course, he neglected to mention price, but for good reason. He had his own idea for that, and he didn't want to get ahead of himself! Hopefully he picked a good moment to reveal his intentions.

[RarityDash]

Randgrid laughed Sigrun's way. She blamed the climate, but it was a flimsy excuse for sure. She had, after all, only just spoken of sneezes triggered not by anything in the air but rather by inhaling foreign spices and though of course the climate did affect them, all she had never seen a caribou prone to such grand sneezes aside from dear Sigrun. She wanted not to tease the other cow however, so instead she just grinned brightly. "My nose is as stout and unflappable as any other pat of me," she proclaimed boisterously. "Perhaps for the training it receives, always buried in something most savory!"
 

She smiled as she turned then back toward Woodsworth, listening to his words. She nodded. "You'll find no complaint from me, good Woodsworth. To be considered a comrade to a caribou is an honor most great!"

 

She gave a sturdy laugh as she reflected on the caribou way. "For caribou, respect is never arbitrary, but it is not quite delivered equally as you describe. Rather, you'll find, that the most respect is given only to those who have proven they deserve it. All is proven through deed and deed alone. Those most honored are those most proven."

 

At his other comments, the caribou gave a snort. "It is a fool who turns a blind eye toward problems plaguing the land. In such cases, it is only prudent to take matters into your own hooves. You are small in size, but banded together with like-minded comrades, perhaps you might have been able to see these unsavory prigs shepherded into your dark forest, where never they might work their evil again!"

​

[Pretzelparty]

 

Sigrun gave a snort of her own and rolled her eyes, rubbing a hoof to her snout again. "It's not a cold, Merely an allergy. I believe many of you ponies possess such an ailment as well. it just shows my immune system is working overtime and is overreacting to a foreign substance... I will likely outgrow it over time as I'm exposed to it." With a sniffle she sighed, "So far I've no luck with that. And yes Mister Psmith... some of my soldiers have found themselves suffering of this condition. The only reason I belive none of you have been deafened is because noone has approached me with a flower... and also I took a remedy for it this morning" 

 

Wordsworth's ... words managed to bring the cow's attention back to a more pleasurable topic than her nasal ails. "I'm not sure if the blade appeared silver, but the records to indicate it had quite the lustrous appearance while it was cutting down groups of enemy soldiers from rival clans. I do worry though if my ancestor's body has been reanimated, in my previous ventures in clearing out necromancer ridden tombs I've found that these risen usually keep the skill they had when they were alive and are still able to set traps and strategize. Enough, about the undead though. " she said with a wave of her hoof before leading the two ponies to a large stone carving, depicting a series of stones piled on top of eachother with weapons and armor laid amongst them. "Not all of our dead get the honor of being enshrined in the Barrows. Some are given the more humble ceremony of the Cairn, where the bodies are burned and a pile of stones are laid upon the spot which they have fallen in battle along with their weapon of choice and a piece of their armor, typically the helmet."

 

Soon the chieftain was treated to a confession from the stallion, "A treasure hunter? No wonder you're so curious about our tombs... Individuals such as yourself do exist in Whitescar but they're aren't always accepted... save for those who try and plunder the Troll tombs in the serpent's spine." The cow thought a moment and smiled, "Perhaps we could work something out, but we should save that for later."

 

"Maybe someday I'll put that statement to the test, Randgrid." she said with a mischievous chuckle, "Or maybe I'll take up your snout's training program as well. Also, when are you going to visit the hold again? I have a few new additions to my collection of arms I was hoping to show you. I had wished to bring a few samples of Caribou weaponscraft but given how the last time our kind appeared in this land with weapons ended I figured it would be a bad idea ... I kept my own ceremonial weapon thought in case anypony was curious." she glanced to a curious, cloth covered sword at her side, "I've made use of it and had it modified so I could better clear out my clan's tombs of necromancers... I've got to make sure my reputation as Tuktu's blade is well deserved, and that entails slaying those who unjustly touch my clan's fallen.

[Blueblood]

There was something in Randgrid's spirit that resonated with Psmith's own.  Indolent as he seemed, he had a great admiration of swift and determined action, and was even capable of it himself if the mood struck him.  When it did, it found itself unencumbered by the inhibitions most normal ponies possessed of public embarrassment or adherence to routine.  One might almost say he possessed the spirit of adventure, though in quite a different manner than, say, Trailblazer.  Psmith would be more likely to charm his way into the houses of living strangers on a whim than to raid the houses of dead ones in a premeditated manner.

 

"Now, that is what I like to see in a mare, or cow, as the case may be."  The unicorn replied, grinning at the caribou Princess.  "The resolution swift, the action irresistible, the mood buoyant, and the will indomitable!  I have always felt myself that circumstances are to be bent to, and not directors of, our aims.  The larger breaches of such, of course, require a coalition of comrades, as you say.  As a matter of fact," Psmith's horn lit up with magic as he pulled a few flyers out of his pocket, "I have recently joined such a coalition myself.  IMAGINE, we are called, dedicated to the eliminations of such pestilences as poverty, disease, unnecessary conflict, oppression, and, yes, prigs."  

 

The flyers contained some information about the organization as a whole, it's role in organizing the Friendship Expo, along with short bios of the founders Prince Blueblood, Snowfall, and Countess Frostlace.  He passed them out to the other three present, starting with Randgrid.  "I understand you have joined a similar international organization yourself, Comrade Randgrid?  Though, I understand, you employ the method forceful and direct."

 

Meanwhile, the conversation between the treasure-hunter and the jarl had not involved him nearly as much, but Psmith had begun to feel that it stretched the standards of politeness not to mix with the company.  This was not unsound, insofar as that it might be considered rude for a loquacious pony to unload the whole of his verbiage onto a sole listener.  Talks of tombs and necromancy were not his subjects of choice, but upon hearing of her ceremonial blade, his ears perked in interest.

"I must express my regret that Comrade Tuktu and I are denied the opportunity of introduction.  I should his judgment was a sound one, in that he chose you to be his blade, Comrade Sigrun.  My own evaluation, of course, is superficial, but what of that?  The surface of things is just as interesting as their depths, and a pony not content with their sublimity I class with one who would cut another open with a sword searching for their 'inner beauty.'  The feeling may be sincere, but I doubt the recipient would find it flattering."

[Imagination]

 

Looks like Trailblazer was drumming up some business! Excellent! But, she was correct. Perhaps something to be reserved for later. "Of course, miss! I'll be at your call when you deem it necessary!" He'd answer the pretty cow regardless, of course. There might not even be a need, perhaps he could stick around the expo and converse with her after it's conclusion. Would be easier than having to go to Whitescar to meet her again,

 

With that out of the way, perhaps there was something else he could tune into. Mr. Psmith seemed to own the floor for the moment. Not necessarily a bad thing, but at least this confirmed he was a member of IMAGINE. But their mission sounded a bit off to him... Especially the last three. Unnecessary conflict? Oppression? Prigs? The heck was a prig? He had to dig deep into his mental dictionary... Something along the lines of somepony who thought they were better than everypony else? He had to chuckle at that. He has some disturbing news to deliver to the organization's founder at some point. 

 

But, not wanting to be rude and seem like he was keeping all the fun to himself, he decided to inquire of this Mr. Psmith,

"Pardon, Comrade Psmith?" What an odd mannerism... Was he from Stalliongrad, perhaps? He couldn't be sure.

 

"How exactly would you 'eliminate' a prig...? One obviously thinks of the literal meaning, but that seems like it would fall under the realm of unnecessary conflict... So I assume it's to be taken in a different fashion?" Maybe giving them a taste of their own medicine? No, that didn't seem right. The only other thing he could think of was a way to possibly instill humility... But if he knew 'prigs', he knew that would take some doing. 

[RarityDash]

Randgrid nodded at Wordsworth. "Indeed, indeed! There is a place for compromise, but to compromise on our ambition for circumstance is always the wrong course. Your prigs and the other unsavory elements of this world act boldly, free of abandon. If we are to be the ones who shape this world and not they, we too must never be afraid to act for what we know to be right," the caribou said firmly.

 

"That is how I have lived in Whitescar, hounding the criminal opponents who oppose the peace and order my father offers, and that too is indeed what compelled me to join EPIC, where I am able to work with others of like mind to root out the truest evils of the world and see that they are not allowed mar it with their influence."

 

She smiled at the young stallion. "We do noble work, but the work of your IMAGINE, from what things I have heard of it, is something I consider no less noble. I'm sure, for your part you have been able to use your fine mind to effect great change with them."

 

She turned her attention back to Sigrun as Woodsworth did the same. At the other cow's inquiry she gave a hearty laugh. "I've been ever on the move of late, good Sigrun, but now that I know this, you will not be able to keep me away from there for long. It would be my delight to see what you have to show me," she said.

 

"And I do think your decision there was a wise one. The ponies have seen enough of our weapons. Let it be something else they see now," she added.

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