[Stalliongrad - Ostrov] On Snowy Wings [PM to Join]

[Pony_Sage]

The air was crisp that day, a cold snap and some stray clouds had brought even more snow upon the already alabaster city. The small shards of the heavens fell in waves lightly, at least in the day time. It gave the Jewel of the North a special charm when it snowed, just another little detail to make the city seem more friendly. Ponies were all a bustle down on the streets going about their lives. Some were shopping and haggling on the corner with the local food cart owners. Sometimes things would sound heated, but after the deal was over everyone was friends again. Some were on their way to and from work, trudging through the newly fallen snow as their steel shod hooves crushed the crystals. Occasionally a foreign word or a fragment in the old Stallian tongue would wash upon the wind.

This was a city of intrigue, a city of opportunity, a city of the strong and simple. Sure the flying buttresses of the towering sky-scrapers could be imposing to the newcomers, when one looked past the dark alley ways and harsh weather, it was in fact a beautiful and unique city. Not as beautiful as the frontier that surrounded it, but beautiful all the same. So many strong ponies, stoic griffons, and proud Zebras, all working together to scratch out a niche in the unforgiving wilderness.

A single snowflake, unique as the city is was falling upon, twirled and swirled towards the ground. Its journey abruptly ended, however, on something soft light pink and warm. It's uniqueness melted upon contact, as curls of condensing breath careened into the biting morning air. Deep jade pools gazed past the soft pink tip of a muzzle, down upon the amazing city. From the dizzying heights that the eyes were gazing from, the ponies looked like ants, all hurriedly taking care of their own lives, utterly unconcerned with the goings on above their heads.

High above the city, above the towering spires and colourful onion domes, there was yet another city. A city with invisible streets, with carts the size of warehouses, and almost no laws what so ever. This was the city of the Airships. Massive lumbering behemoths that dominated the sky, idly floated above the white city. These giants were shepherded by the talented ponies and griffons of the Stalliongrad Air Control. There were many jobs that encompassed the air shipping industry of Stalliongrad, all the way from air ship captain down to the janitors that cleaned the ships after their arrival. All of these jobs were valuable and worked towards one end goal of bringing the ships in safely.

One of these said jobs, a rather important one at that, fell squarely on the owner of the jade eyes' shoulders. This was the job of clearing the docking and mooring paths and piers that the airships frequented from flying fowl. This was important because if one of the said fowl were to be sucked into the propellers of the airships, they could cause massive amounts of damage, totaling to untold amounts of bits in repairs, pushing back the shipping schedule even further. Needless to say, this was best avoided. The easiest way to do this would be to have a fleet of Pegasus ponies constantly survey and patrol the area, keeping the birds away. Alas, there were not that many pegasi in Stalliongrad, nor would it be cost effective. This is where Edelweiss came in. She was an independent contractor that worked for a number of companies including but not limited to NSI and even the KOG. She was a very specialized pony after all. She was a falconer something that was very rare in the entirety of Equestria, let alone the frozen city of Stalliongrad. She and her companion, Gwenevere the Gyrfalcon, would patrol the skies and scare off the fowl that might get sucked into a propeller. Gwen was perfect for this task, with her fifty inch wingspan and tenacious personality she would scare any fowl away with in two clicks of her area.

This was a busy day for Edelweiss, she had been awake since 04:00 and on the job since 05:00. With her trusty whistle she had been instructing Gwen in her tacking and pursuit maneuvers for a good seven hours and it was time for both of them to take a break. With three sharp blasts from the whistle Edelweiss signaled to Gwen that she was on her own for the time being, free to fly, hunt, and eat what ever she pleased. This was the unsavory part of the job, even though Edelweiss had lived with Gwen for many, many years she was never quite settled with the killing and eating of wild game. She understood that it was needed, and even fed Gwen when she was an Eyass and gives her gifts of deceased voles now and again. It was the act of killing said prey that slightly unnerved her, and this is why she opted for Gwen to hunt on her own for most of her meals.

The metal lunch box made a clang when it was dropped on the steel pier that Edelweiss was sitting on. She nosed though it picking out some carrots and lettuce with a cask of warm tea. Sitting watching the tiny ponies go about their business, she felt almost as though she was flying. With a quick flick of her magic the pulled the bone skewers out of her loose bun and let her pin straight hair fall. Instantly it was swept up by the light breeze that carried the snow, blowing a lock or two into her face and the rest flowing with the wind. She was the picture of the stalliongradian mare, white as the driven snow, with small black spots all through out her coat, mimicking the soot that clung to the whiteness of the snow in some parts of the city, sitting in utter defiance of the harsh nature around her, a strong simple mare in a strong simple city. If somepony where to have taken a picture or sketched her, it would have most likely been disputed as a work of fiction. But there she sat, sipping her tea and munching on her carrots, a sight to behold.

[Xiee]

The morning had been mildly pleasant. The snow had began to fall gently, she could not help but stare at the mesmerizing beauty of it. Each snowflake had its own distinct aura. This exuded a strange yet wonderful feeling that only a few like her would seem to understand. This brought her back to the days when she was a young filly. She would stand for a while in the middle of the snow-filled market street in Kuznitza as the snow fell. It was the one thing that brought peace to her.

Realizing that she had been lost in thought and idle for a few minutes, Argenta snaps back into reality and continues to trot her way down the street. Eying the tall skyscrapers above her, she wondered what it would be like to be up there. The few Pegasus Ponies that streaked, working at those heights seemed to love the danger of it all. Averting her gaze back to the ground she began to start her patrol. This wasn't her usual patrol route. A comrade in her unit asked if she could do his patrols for the day. He needed to be home due to urgent family matters. She had agreed.

She had brought along a map with her that her comrade had provided. It was marked with checkpoints of interest where she had to drop by and check in with the units stationed in the area. She followed the predetermined path on the map and was just about done, but the last checkpoint was... unusual. The note left by her comrade said “Airship Route”. Apparently, she had to make her way up into the clouds to reach the last set of checkpoints for the day. There were also instructions to board a sky carriage to get to these checkpoints. She thought to herself that this Airship Route would have been better covered by one of the aerial units in her battalion. Assigning this task to an Earth Pony, just puzzled her beyond comprehension.

She boarded one of the sky carriages, showed her military identification card to the conductor, who was an elderly Griffon, and boarded. Along with her were a few worker Ponies and Zebras, all of whom probably had some sort of work in those sky factories. Some of them eyed at her uncomfortably as her grey SGU uniform and fur beret distinctly pointed out that she was with the Military. They aptly turned their gaze away as she turned her's into theirs. This particular carriage had a total of twelve seats. This was one of the smaller carriages that specifically carried passengers. It was simply powered by four, Pegasi who pulled the carriage. As preparations for boarding were finally done, the conductor yelled at the four Pegasi signaling them to take off. With the clang of the warning bell, the Pegasus neighed and began to gallop. They flapped their wings and as speed built up they eventually take off into the air.

This was another first for her. She had never ridden a sky carriage before. The sensation was nerve wracking at first as they took off, but when the carriage began to settle to its cruising speed, it was more like any other carriage ride on the ground. She tried not to look down as she soon discovered that a little bit of vertigo shot through her. Rather, she focused on the huge figures ahead. Huge airships docked and anchored, blanketed by clouds. The gentle snowfall seemed to give the sight an eerie calm, but as they grew closer, loud clangs and noises from workers started to be heard. The elderly Griffon conductor shouted for the first stop. This is where she would get off.

[Dio]

Stalliongrad’s first snowfall of the year had graced the city with a dusting of powder, which even now was coming floating down in glittering curtains, illuminated by golden rays of sun streaming from intermittent holes in the cloud cover. Far above the onion-domed spires of the city, even above the iron-banded aerial piers, traffic was bustling. Weather pegasi buzzed about, clearing ship-sized holes in the cloud cover for freighters running along the Aquellia-Stalliongrad trade spine and directing smaller aerial cart traffic below. But even above the din of roaring props and high altitude winds a single voice rang out among the clouds.

“What have you to say for yourself, mal’chik?”

Gruff, masculine, and well-weathered, the voice was a perfect match for its owner, a ruddy red Pegasus stallion, powerful in build, and sinewy in disposition. His body bore the marks of a life of hard labor; a subdued coat worn soft by use, muscular legs strong as stone and steady as mountains on the rolling pitching deck of an airship, a trimmed but free flowing tail now drifting in the wind. His stark white mane peeked out from below a thick, knitted wool cap emblazoned with the crest of the Stallian merchant marine.

The cap was complimented by the customary airman’s telnyashka, its stripes light blue, a reflection of the sky that its wearers worked daily. On his canvas working jacket, the polished brass of an airship captain’s emblem shone in the afternoon sun. This was a stallion in charge, and he was not pleased. The mashing of consonants from the native tongue danced across his lips as he glared menacingly at the pale goldenrod Pegasus opposite him.

“Was not my fault, captain!” the crewman blustered.

“Chepukha! Horse apples!” Though they were equal in stature, the yellow stallion shrank at the captain’s rebuke. “You did not secure cargo lines during descent! Now I pay for KOG to replace office windows in Ostrov towers!”

“I am sorry...”

“As am I. Now get off my ship.”

“Sir?”

“GET OFF MY SHIP! You are fired!” The Captain growled, pointing to the starboard side dock with a hoof, all the while keeping his fiery gaze fixed upon the delinquent crewman. His ears drooped and his head hung low, the yellow stallion dejectedly lifted off the deck and fluttered to the pier, trudging slowly away until he was lost in the haze of falling snow. The captain snorted in contempt, the blasts of condensation quickly fading as he paced the deck again.

“Perhaps you were a bit hard on him, mate.”

Captain Sturmovik wheeled around to face the new voice, this one coming from a mottled griffon kitted out in similar cold weather gear. Sturmovik did not smile, though his change in inflection and the ever so slight softening of his otherwise stony disposition reflected familiarity not accorded the rest of his crew. The Pegasus paced, ambling to the railing on the starboard deck, but not yet crossing the gap to the docks.

“I trusted mal’chik with this responsibility,” he began, switching back to Common. Despite his firm command of the language, the Stallian accent was still thick on his tongue. “Instead he cost me half cargo in damages and loss of product! Of course I fire him!”

“Everyone bucks up at one point or another, sir.”

“Is true. But not all of us can afford this, Alastair.” Sturmovik replied flatly. “I am going for quick walk. Get crew disembarked and I will meet you in terminal.”

“Dose vidd Anya, captain,” the Griffon said with a smile.

The captain rolled his eyes at the butchering of his native tongue before taking wing, alighting on the docks in a swirling cloud of glittering, icy shards. Though Sturmovik had weathered many a winter both at home and abroad, there was still a magical quality to the snow that he found extraordinarily calming, be it the gentle guttering of standards and sailframes on the frigid wind of a flurry, the pinpricks of snowflakes nipping his nose, or the hypnotic glint of icy prisms floating in the sunlight like a million tiny diamonds.

Clink. Clank. Sturmovik’s hoofsteps reverberated across the aerial pier, seeming to hang in the air amid the falling flakes.

CLANG.

The captain paused. Swiveling his head, Sturmovik took note of the strikingly white unicorn sitting next to him. Disguised by the falling flakes, the unicorn mare could easily have been mistaken for accumulated snow. His eyes fell upon her pressed sheet-metal lunchbox, the obvious culprit for the loud noise that had drawn his attention in the first place. Curious, but in possession of enough common courtesy not to interrupt, Sturmovik quietly found his own place to sit at the end of the pier.

From his flight jacket, he removed a small steel flask, carefully popping the top and gingerly sniffing at its contents. Sturmovik glanced at the unicorn out of the corner of his eye. If she wanted to socialize, she would make her intentions known. After all, it was more than likely her break as well. She was entitled to do as she pleased.

The captain took a swig from his flask. Unlabeled as it was, its strength was sufficient to warm his belly in spite of the high altitude chill.

“Nadezhnyi,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “At least Stallianoya is always reliable.”

[Pony_Sage]

Eyes fell upon Edelweiss as she sipped her tea, she felt them bore into her , along with the presence of a rather muscular stallion. She heard his hoof beats stop behind her, 'Is this another KOG recruiter trying to get me to join again?' she pondered. If there was one thing that all her training in tracking quarry and finding lost ponies in the woods afforded her, it was a keen situational awareness. This presence did not seem intent to cause her harm or harass her in any form, but rather just watch her, like a crow trying to figure out how to get food our from a tight space.

Then the hoof beats continued, past Edelweiss and off to the end of the steel pier. This pier was one of the first built in Stalliongrad and as such it was one of the more bulky and re-enforced, Odin Pristan', as it was called in the old tongue of Stallian or Wharf One in common tongue was the usual mooring place of rather large and cantankerous airships and as such was of high priority for Edelweiss to keep clear of fowl.

The presence that was intrigued by her seemed to be linked with the new ship that had just docked. The stark contrast between the smaller faster ship and the usual fare that they had at Odin Pristan' interested her, maybe this pony would be someone with whom she could speak. Edelweiss deliberately chewed on her carrots darting a quick, hopefully unnoticeable glance over to the new addition to the pier.

She was correct in her assessment of the stallion, he was a fine specimen of an airship crew member. 'Or rather a captain.' She mentally corrected herself upon spotting his insignia. His ruddy red coat seemed to be offset by distinct white fetlocks. These of course were not as impressive as his golden and white pinion feathers. The colour scheme of this pony seemed to echo the city of Stalliondrad its self.

The wind changed direction in favor of Edelweiss. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of something shiny and then a strong whiff of something pungent. 'Ah the smell of good old Stallianoya fire-water.' Edelweiss mused to herself. The smell was unlike any other pony alcohol that she had ever had the care to investigate. There was a sharp edge to it that only could come from premium Stalliondradian ingredients. Her ears twitched to catch the mumbled old tongue coming from the other pony. From what she made out, “Nadezhnyi.” was at least one of the words of not the only one. At least this pony was a native. There was a fierce pride in Stalliondrad about being a native, even if Edelweiss' parents were immigrants, she had still been born and raised here.

Finishing her lunch Edelweiss let curiosity get the better of her, a rare occurrence. She packed up her lunch box and put it back into her kit on the dock. After which she proceed to stalk over towards the stallion, being sure to disguise her hoof beats by stepping in piles of the fallen snow. She was rather diminutive compared to this stallion and preferred to at least have the element of surprise if he turned out to be one of the less desirable, 'Sky Pirates', that seemed to be making a resurgence in recent days.

Stopping just short of a few feet from the stallion she watched his motions closely, discerning what she could from them. Then, breaking from her natural course of actions quite largely, she softly spoke. Her voice cascaded into the surrounding area, there was something unique about it, a frequency that seemed to convey great strength of character.

“Double cold pressed, if I am not mistaken … kapitan.” Her accent was not that of a traditional full blooded Stalliongradian, which sometimes was the brunt of jokes, but rather had a unique under tone to it. It seemed to be from another language completely still guttural but more abrupt and deeper, as though Stallian was not her native tongue, but learned early enough in her life to deeply effect the accent that preceded it.

She stood there with a discerning look upon her face as the wind carried her mane in a new direction. She awaited the captain's reply, if he felt like giving one to her. Sometimes boredom can get the best of even the most quiet individuals.

[Xiee]

The sky carriage stopped at what appeared to be a waiting station. The old Griffon conductor announced that they have arrived. Argenta, along with some worker Ponies, alighted the carriage. In front of her were numerous signs pointing to different destinations, one of which was her route, the airship docks. As she turned to walk the gray metallic surface of the pathway, she had noticed that it appeared that it was floating in midair. Perhaps there was some sort of structure that supported all this hidden in the clouds, she asked herself. Or maybe it was being held in place, levitated by Unicorn magic! Nevertheless, she found herself in awe and a bit alarmed when she realized how high from the ground this facility was. A bit of vertigo hit her when she looked down to the direction that the Sky Carriage had taken. She moved away and found herself walking down a metallic alleyway. She had taken out the map from her pocket and began to review it. A sudden gust of wind had blown it away and beyond her reach as it flew into the sky and drifted endlessly. She stomped her hoof and cursed at her carelessness. Still, she had to deal with it and figure this out another way. She remembered parts of the route since she did review it before she accepted this task, but she would have to ask around and probably look for the VSS outpost in this area to ask for directions.

With a sigh, she trotted along and began to start her patrol. She had fixed the wrinkles in her gray VSS uniform overcoat and made sure that her beret wasn't crooked in her head. The overcoat proudly displayed her rank and designation. The portion where one would normally see a cutie mark was covered by the coat and in its place, the symbol of her rank within the VSS. As she went, taking in the unusual scenery of the platforms and metallic surfaces, she had noticed this look to be pleasant. It was dull but peaceful in its own sort of way. A massive airship loomed over her as it was starting to dock into one of the prepared platforms a few trots away. Curious at the sight, she wandered over to it to witness the docking procedure as the frantic activity began to stir the workers awaiting for it's final approach until it completely docked. As everything settled down, the doors of the airship swung open. The ship's crew disembarked as cargo bay doors opened. Everything an organized chaos. Amidst all the commotion, a rather dignified Pony appeared to emerge from the passenger doors. Argenta could tell that this was the Stallion in charge, the Captain, and from the looks of it, he was a bit annoyed. The Stallion paused to survey his surroundings and he began to approach a Mare who was lounging along the pier. Perhaps a subordinate? She thought. Or maybe an acquaintance? She trotted in closer, keeping her distance as not to be noticed, afraid that she might disturb the two. She had no business with them in the first place. Instead, she focused her attention on the cargo that was being unloaded into the pier. She glanced back to the the Mare and Stallion. She was now at earshot distance to at least hear them. Yet she continued on, looking at the Cargo as some of the crew who was unloading them began to notice her and shot warily looks at each other.

[Dio]

“Double cold pressed, if I am not mistaken... kapitan.”

“Finest in all Stalliongrad,” Sturmovik chuckled in reply, his deep, baritone laughter seeming to carry on the wind itself. “But only for working stallion. If ask you me, Lema, that is plenty good.”

Sturmovik’s use of the colloquial for “lady unicorn” made it clear that the conversation was as informal as informal could be. Her command of the native tongue was excellent, though her accent was difficult to place. Vysokii upper class? No; no upper crust industrial mogul-- or even the daughter of one for that matter-- would be caught dead hanging around the docks. Perhaps a Reya artist? Well-crafted bone pins tucked into her saddlebag straps, a worn look to her equipment, and a practical steel workman’s lunchbox would mesh perfectly with the artist’s milieu.

“But I am being rude. I am Captain Sturmovik. Artorius is my ship,” the captain remarked, briefly gesturing to the ship behind them. He then extended a hoof to shake. “Kak vy nazvali? How are you named, Lema?”

The wind shifted, subtly fracturing the high altitude cloud cover and allowing rays of golden sun to filter through. Gilded rays bathed the dock in faux warmth and soft white luminosity. Sturmovik exhaled slowly, his breath forming a tiny cloud of misty fog that quickly dissipated in the chilling wind. But out of the guttering of sailframes and the drone of engines, came the clip-clop of more hooves on iron. Sturmovik gave a sidelong glance, away from the unicorn mare to the approaching pony in the signature longcoat and ushanka of a VSS patrolmare.

"Zdravstvuite. Good day. Yest'problemy, ofitsera? Is there a problem, officer?"

[Pony_Sage]

'Lema? What a rather relaxed captain this Strumovik is. I guess it is the years of being an air sailor.'

Edelweiss chuckled lightly at his remark before, with a smile on her muzzle, began to reply.

“Pleased to meet you Letchik, I am called Edelweiss by friends and family. You captain the airship over there, yes?” She asked pointing a hoof towards the Artorius. “That is a fine ship you have there. Out of the many ships I have seen, I do not remember one quite as unique as yours. Did you make it yourself?” Just as she uttered the question she noticed the clip clop of hooves on the steel pier.

'Proklyatie, Curses, why did I not hear her before? I should have noticed that VSS Patrolmare from at least 1/2 the dock away. Heavy steel shod hooves does not a stealthy approach make. And wonder why they are always asking me to join the ranks for recon purposes. Maybe if they didn't fit their hooves with party clappers they might be better at recon.' Edelweiss grimaced as she studied the mare. It was not that she had anything in particular to hold against this mare, but the VSS as a whole slightly irritated her at times. While their services were invaluable and definitely needed, sometimes their methods did not jive with her own ideals, not to mention their constant requests for her to join them.

For example their recruits were taught wilderness survival yes, but the were taught to fight and battle the will of nature. That is even how this city came to be, the buildings defiant monoliths built to honor the achievements of pony and griffin kind. Edelweiss favored more of a naturalistic outlook on life and the environment. She did not battle nature to survive in the wilderness, she used nature to her advantage. Tents were unwieldy and cumbersome, snow caves only needed to be dug out to be used, for that matter hollow trees were always a wonderful retreat from snowy conditions. Fire starters and matches were not needed to cook rations, there were enough plants to eat everywhere around which did not need to be cooked and ways to start fires for warmth were endless as the ever expanding snow scape, if one knew where to look.

Edelweiss stoically stood next to Strumovik her face that of complete control and practiced forbearance as the patrolmare approached. Inwardly giggling at the verbal jab from her new compatriot Edelweiss shifted uncomfortably on her hooves. The change in the wind opened up some some fissures in the cloud cover, the Sun peeking through.

[Xiee]

Argenta had noticed that the two Ponies had ended their conversation short and set their gaze upon her as she approached them. She could tell right away that some uneasiness in the atmosphere had formed. The Captain, or so she thought who was the Captain of the ship if it were not so obvious of his uniform, turned to her.

"Zdravstvuite. Good day. Yest'problemy, ofitsera? Is there a problem, officer?"

“Koroshii den' dlya vas Kapitan, Good day Captain.” She returned a polite nod. “Nothing is wrong sir, I was just passing by admiring your airship. Forgive me if I have disturbed your conversation.”

Her accent sounded colloquial. It had that distinct tone that the commoners used at the Kuznitza district. She her tried best to hide it as not to sound so “common”. She had turned her gaze towards the mare who threw her a cautious look. She realized that she hadn't introduced herself properly.

“Where are my manners?” She took a step back in attention. “I am Corporal Argenta of the 9^th Battalion. I've been temporarily assigned to patrol this area of Ostrov.”

A cold wind blew after she had spoken. A short silence? Maybe something she had said offended the Captain and his companion. Or was her mere presence a bother to the Captain and this mare. Questions had began to form in her mind. She was never the one for social conversation.

[Dio]

Sturmovik tucked the flask back in his jacket pocket and wheeled around fully to face the the newcomer. Though the mare was dead even with him in height, she was slim. Rather unexpected for an earth pony, especially if she was regular VSS. Even more puzzling was the fact that she was here at all. What commanding officer in his right mind would assign a non-flier to the high-rises?

“Where are my manners? I am Corporal Argenta of the 9th Battalion. I've been temporarily assigned to patrol this area of Ostrov.”

Of course. That would explain a lot. The commander wasn’t insane, just the volunteer. But it was none of his concern. If she wanted to walk Chernobog’s Horns-- the colloquial name for the upper-level airship docks-- that was her prerogative. Sturmovik silently snickered at her attempts to disguise her accent. Perhaps she was not a native of Kuznitza proper. Many Forge District working-ponies were proud of their roots.

“No worries, Kuznitza,” the Captain replied in his booming baritone. “We are all working-ponies here. I am merely having break while deck crew finishes securing vessel.”

“I will let lema introduce herself. I believe she would be more comfortable that way,” he said, motioning to Edelweiss.

“Would be pointless to ask if you would like a drink since you are on the job. However, conversation would not hurt.” Sturmovik stretched his wings, idly resettling them at his sides. “So, Kuznitza. Who decided putting you on Chernobog’s horn was good idea?”