Personification Life: EPIC (IC Thread XI) [CLOSED]

[The BranRiech]

Yuna

"Thought I'd be nice, and give her the stupid stick . . ."

Yuna muttered under her breath as Sundae droned on and on about . . . Did anyone really listen or care at that point? "We're going to have to think of something. But again, why not make the symbol that we saw? Like, I know that symbol, so if we made it, really big, and they saw it, they'd know it was us." She said, like it all made sense. She hadn't even stopped to consider whether or not any of their friends were even nearby, or whether or not they'd ever be in the general area even.

She wanted Will, or hell, any of the cultists would do, they were . . . For the most part at least, somewhat helpful.

Were their friends even in the same world as them?

[Swith Witherward]

DINING ROOM

"We'll get to your well-founded concerns in just a moment, Giovenith, I promise," Minerva whispered before rising. She tapped a spoon against the glass salt shaker's side to call the room to quiet, and then waited for conversation to die off. Nearly everyone was there, minus a few set on their own tasks for the mission. The leather clad ginger drew a cleansing breath and then officially launched what was probably the tenth Residents Meeting to date.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice!" the cultist leader's crisp British accent made her sound positively upbeat, although her expression remained grim. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Minerva Blackwater, leader of Charumati's cultist forces. I apologize for not addressing you sooner. As many of you know, I die every twelve hours. Awkward thing, especially during a crisis, but not entirely unmanageable. We've asked everyone here today for several purposes: review of Building defenses, discussion regarding a team going out to slay the dragon-litch, and discussions about Ascalon."

She gave Residents only a few seconds to process that before launching into the meat of her message. "This Building is designed to withstand a direct hit by the Drone Empire. Imagine every nuclear bomb that ever existed being wadded up into one massive blast. Then imagine it being ten times stronger... enough force to shatter the Earth itself. That is a single round from the Drones. Now lob that bomb directly at the Building. The end result would be absolute planetary destruction. However, if you batted aside all the rubble, you'd find a cheerful globe floating along. Inside the globe, as snug as a bug, would be the Building and its immediate outside fixtures such as the gazebo and deck chairs. You'd find air. Please remember this the next time danger knocks at the door. We need only lock them to keep it from entering. This is made possible by three distinct yet somehow integrated systems."

She drew a box on the whiteboard. "Building, right? It's self aware. It's technically a small bit of Mr. Demens himself. This is why it is able to self-mend. It is also why destructive Residents are given a bill for damages. The entire structure hardens. Windows, doors, walls, roof. All of it. A bomb might tear through a wall, but that would would reform. In a pinch, it can close off all the windows and doors, sealing off the entire world. However, it is still not impervious."

She drew a circle around the square. "This is the BOB. It stands for Bit of Bitch. Bob, the essence of a Chaos god, is the first security system ever installed. It detects thoughts. It weeds out enemies. It makes the walls impossible to break and the windows impossible to crack. It blocks things from teleporting in. It is sentient and powered by all of your emotions - good or bad. Bob creates the happy bubble that allows us to float in space. Bob and the Building itself are the reason that non-Residents can't even go up the stairs to the second floor. You must sign a lease. However, exceptions are made during a time of crisis, which is why we can have guest speakers come to these Residents meetings, and why villagers were sheltered here."

The pen quickly added scribbles between the circle and square. "This is the Outer Perimeter. There are all sorts of things set up that sense movement, sense intent, and sense attempts to plant nefarious devices. Now you all are probably wondering just why the hell we have such potent things in place. Bobs and sentient Buildings.

"Look there," she pointed to Primordial. "That is a Luxan. Capable of doing much damage. And there," she pointed at Bran, "is a former Branriechian conscript who likes to fiddle with TF guns. And here are some cyborgs capable of doing a lot of damage. Let us not forget the Raptors, Cultist forces, and other delightful beings. Once upon a time, not too long ago, everything would try to kill everything else in the halls. And some Residents, such as the Drones, sought to destroy us from within. Security measures were taken in order to enforce neutrality. I'm very pleased to say we need no longer enforce it. The measures haven't gone away, however. And that brings me to the third system."

Minerva filled in the inside of the box. "This is Morbus or, as Thaddeus coined him, prima morbi accessione, which means "at the first approach of death". Morbus permeates everything, and fills in all the cracks that the Building and Bob don't cover. He's a living organism of sorts, but not really alive at all. Nothing, not even the smallest Drone zeptomite, gets past Morbus. Morbus alone stopped the Drones from infiltrating the Residents. They were unable to replace them with their nasty Replicant creations. Every few seconds, Morbus scans each individual here. Lovely, no? If you don't match prior records, Morbus contacts Bob and out you go, right into the dumpster. This filter has been in place since the Second Drone Invasion. It's also how we know people have gone missing and might be in need of rescue."

She didn't touch upon the Residents that had vanished into historical Equestrian times.

"Morbus isn't controlled by anyone. He is a Resident, same as the rest of us. He's tended to by the lizards and their kind. These Residents are seldom seem, needless to say, but they are still valued members of our group."

She capped the marker and settled into her chair. "This brings up defense forces. In Bielefeld, we have well over a thousand cultists in place. We have been blocked from jumping dimensions since our arrival in Gallimaufry. Our forces are reduced to twenty-nine total, spread between Klaus and I. Most of them have been dispatched to gather information, especially concerning Ascalon. As many of our old hands know, cultists stick to the shadows. This leave our defensive bulwark and measures up to Residents."

Minerva quickly surveyed the room, taking note of each Resident, and then she folded her hands on the table in front of her. "We must work as a team. Each of us comes from a vastly different setting. We have beings who have lead great armies, such as the General here. We have beings who control a special energy, if the reports are accurate, such as this Jedi," she nodded to Maghrl. "We have pilots, Klingons, special forces, an entire guild, conscripts, child soldiers, and war mages. None of you are worth a pence if we can't all work well as a team. For some of you warrior-types, this means swallowing your egos. We're here because we volunteer to put our lives on the line to protect the Building's inhabitants. The generals may call the shots, but it's the stalwart men that bring the victory. And none of us can remain stalwart for long without our humble healers, scholars, artists, poets, and friends.

"That brings me to Brother Itum's concerns," she continued. "Will this Building have adequate defenses if we divide up our resources between here and Varg? Yes. Undoubtedly so, but you'll need a resourceful military leader. If you don't mind, I'd like to volunteer myself. I believe my track record through two Drone invasions, a Luxan invasion, a Raptor invasion, and the persecution we faced shortly before leaving Bielefeld speaks for itself. In turn, I'm going to need people to serve as officers, and even stronger people step up to serve as our primary forces. We have another three days before Scel and Neste are back in shape, if Morbus' report is accurate. This leaves us only Buttons and Nila but that, coupled with the security systems, is enough to get by. I'd like to begin training immediately."

She brought her folded hands up to press her knuckles against her bottom lip. It was a lot of information in a short amount of time, and Minerva was certain she'd left things out. Equipment would be discussed later, of course. The cultist leader shrugged. "Does anyone have any questions regarding the Building defenses? If not, we can move along to dragon-litches and this quest. Someone will need to fill all of us in."

[Tiltjuice]

Brit and Chrys

The only sound for the rest of the frantic maze trip was the sound of Arrow talking to herself, an annoying habit that nonetheless managed to ease some of the tension that the darkness and looming danger created. It was hard to be completely scared shitless when you had some prissy koo-koo huffing and muttering meaningless complexities the whole way, taking the situation in from an angle that while serious, was probably not the brand of seriousness that was appropriate for the circumstances. While Brit wanted to get out of the maze as soon as possible due to emotional fatigue, Arrow was clearly still in the mindset of making certain that whatever devious little plans she had in mind came to pass.

At the very least, the sorceress was correct about the maze trick: Keeping to the left wall, they ran into no dead-ends, and it wasn't unbearably long until Arrow stopped her forward charge and snapped her head towards one of the walls. Dropping Brit out of her telekinesis, she zipped up and thrust her ear towards the wall, listening close and making out muffled voices. Yes! Leaning back, she saw that the wall was made of a different material than the rest of the maze. Rather than tightly packed bricks, they seemed to be rounded stones packed together with weak dried mud or dirt. In any case, Arrow immediately began to rip away at the wall, digging and pushing down her hooves into the bumpy edges of the stones in attempt to dislodge them. One came crumbling out, revealing a small ray of light.

"Don't just stand there, assist!" she commanded Brit, continuing to dig at the wall.



"I can't be sure," Clover confessed, worried but in thought. "If we had more time, more resources, I could have run some experiments to gauge how your own innate power corresponds with our dimension. From the looks of it, you already have some wonky side effects..." She eyed the wings. "I can easily fix that, but the rest... I don't know. My mentor might have known."

Here the young unicorn looked down sadly, her ears folding. She lowered her hood, exposing her long green and lavender hair all held up in a tight bun with a big, emerald, four-leaf clover-shaped pin. It was quite fitting of who she was, if that was the appropriate way to describe; humble and pragmatic, with no vanity for her locks, but a unicorn nonetheless, thus incomplete without even a little bit of jewely flair.

"Forgive me for being a bit emotional, but it is something of an ordeal," she said to Chrys. "I have been the ward of my mentor since I was very small, I learned everything from him and it can be hard filling in his space in his absence. It has been hard for both me and the princess, what with her father gone as well. If they had been here, I'm sure they would have figured this all out for you and Brit in a matter of mere minutes. I am sorry you are stuck with only us silly little girls."

They finally reached a spot where the surrounding outer space melted back into Clover's crystal ball, bouncing upward back into her hoof and leaving them once again in Queen Argenta's memorial chamber.

Brit and Chrys

A white knight Chrys was not, and perhaps Her will had directed the Conservapony to this point because she shared the same ache as Clover. Even if it had been dulled by a certainly considerable length of time. She stood off some distance, gaze resting on the younger unicorn.

She breathed in and out, with the air passing over Clover's hair. Whether or not she took it as benediction from a stranger from a strange land or not, it was meant as such. Vaguely. There was no sense of condescension; just a sober acknowledgment of common experiences. And then the moment passed, as rare as it was for Chrys to be anything but cheerful.

"There's still a little of that in me," she confided to Clover, in a quiet voice. "Having unexpected visitors drop in from a completely different realm must have been a surprise by itself...and I came to help, not to hinder." An uncertain expression crossed her face now, and she chewed her lower lip. "Speaking of which, I suspect Brit may need some, as well. It's been a while since we've heard from her...and we can always look me over later. Is there anything we might need from here?"

[Monfrox]

Help? Sheesh...well, she wasn't getting out any sooner by just standing around. She, instead of using her forehooves, decided to take a more direct descendant approach. She turned around and back kicked the wall, trying with both legs some times. At a point, she stopped and looked to Clover.

"Wait...won't creating this opening allow the bad magic a way to escape? Do we have a way to keep this locked in while letting us escape?"

Things like that generally worried her about the social responsibility. She didn't want to die alone with Clover, being mentally tortured for days on end, but at the same time would they just subject every other pony to the same danger at the expense of a few ore precious seconds to live? Sometimes, the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few.

[Chedastan]

Romulus took his seat as suggested by Klaus, feeling more assured now that he knew he was still seen as valuable enough to be of help in this quest. And he was definitely intrigued by what they had planned for him on this upcoming journey to slay a dragon-litch. He had taken a few sips from his tea, feeling pretty good about these mostly agreeable arrangements the two spoke of with him. He was alright with burrowing Klaus's suit in place of his, for not having to worry about any power management, and was okay with whatever quirks the steed would have, it's a small price to pay for being able to cover a lot more ground and be mounted.

He looked up when he saw Thaddeus, Giovenith and co enter the dining room, giving a nod towards them. He was fine with the boy, Marcus, accompanying him as his 'squire,' if he was well for it, and if he agreed to it, Romulus wouldn't mind either way. He noticed more people were arriving, and knew he should probably say he agreed to the arrangements, but he was stopped form doing so when Giovenith was acting very distressed about Marcus, which was very understandable. Before he could go on to say anything however, Minerva had risen and was already tapping a spoon on a salt shaker, calling for everyone to be quiet, and for the meeting to start.

As Minerva then went on about the building's defenses and history, Romulus was simply awestruck as to how much actually went into this building, and just how immensely strong the defenses apparently were. It made him a bit paranoid actually, his emotions were being used right now, he was being scanned all the time, he didn't even want to imagine what sort of chaos this building would cause if it suddenly teleported in the inside of the Wilhelm Imperium, or worse, inside one of their cities. It was beginning to horrify him from just imagining the potential destruction and mayhem, to the point that he quickly pushed the thought into the back of his head and quickly drank some more of his tea.

By the time Minerva was done and volunteered herself to be the building's military leader, Romulus wasn't quite so sure about to think anymore. He felt he should rise up and volunteer himself, given that he was by all means very experience in the military field, and was of course a General to the Wilhelm Imperium. But he knew by this point now he knew hardly anything about the building itself, or much of the residents in it, in fact he only learned much about those things a moment ago, and even then that's not enough. So even if he stood up right now, and proclaimed to everyone here that he should be the building's military leader, it'll undoubtedly be pointless to do so, maybe humorous at best. He set his mug down on the table, and clenched his fists on his lap, feeling frustrated.

It was like a demotion, a severe demotion of several ranks. He may as well have been back to square one like when he got off that teleport gateway fresh out of the Academy from Hackory as a Enlisted Cadet, and being sent off to fight in St. La'Beik. He could still smell the stench of those trenches. Well he at least hoped it wasn't going to be like that again, hopefully, but he wouldn't be surprise if it were the same kinda experience. But then again, he still had his things with him, he had skills, he was actually being offered arrangements, he wasn't being completely looked downed upon, there's still plenty of other important roles that he could fill. He knew his situation wasn't terrible, but still, to any General of the Imperium, it still left much to be desired. He unclenched his fists, and finished what was left of his tea, feeling a little better now. He then stood up, looking at everyone on the room.

"In the matter of the building's defense, I'm willing offer myself to assist in training anyone who's lacking that wants to be proficient and adequate in melee weaponry and and firearms. Of course that'll most likely have to be after Varg is dealt with within a few days time. But I've been in campaigns for 17 years, and led a good chunk of that myself, leading armies that have numbered in the billions, I'm sure I can do well in training anyone, and can assist in leadership and planning." He turned his head to Minerva, smiling, then looked down at Klaus.

"And in the matter of dealing with Varg, I'll agree to your planned arrangements for me, but-" He quickly turned his head to Giovenith. "It'll be Marcus's choice if he wants to come along with helping me. I won't force him." He assured her and sat back down. He'll let someone else that payed more attention in the lobby to elaborate more on Varg.

[New Aksarben]

Both Maghrl and Sterling were quite amazed by the whole network of defenses, though both for very different reasons. Sterling was familiar with magical defenses of a similar though cruder nature. Maghrl on the other hand was used to an almost entirely technological world, and nothing technological could properly explain that. Though the little nod to him Maghrl returned, a small smile on his face as he focused on the rest of the short lecture. Maghrl would have to look into these groupings when it came time. He might not be the best choice for any sort of leadership role, especially with his broken Basic and strange dialect. Though he might be able to teach residents swordfighting techniques(easily applicable from his training with sabers), and ways to stay calm in combat and other strenuous situations. It was very easy to forget that mental outlook was a good portion of success in combat, and fear could kill as surely as any blaster.

The squib had never heard of anything so... thorough as the defenses of this building, however! Even the defenses of the Galactic Alliance planets paled in comparison, and the Jedi Temple! Though to be fair, Neither the GA or Jedi Order had been entrenched very long in the rebuild Coruscant very long. Neither group had the time to set up real defenses, aside from normal guards and such. Jedi of course tended to get advance warning for crisis, and Coruscant was so deep in the core that no one could openly attack it through the GA's fleets. But to have such defenses for one single building, and the building being a part of some sort of.... greater entity. Maghrl was confused about that one specifically but felt it would require too much explanation right now to understand who or what this 'Demens' was. He'd heard that name before while being here though, he knew that much.

To Sterling it definitely reminded him of shields his kind could project (a spell he'd always wanted to try learning but never had been able to properly do so) though on a very interesting and specific scale. He had no context for this sort of ID scanning, but he guessed that must be some sort of advanced technology rather than magic, persay. Either way it was strange and he shivered wondering just how it managed to scan everyone at the same time almost constantly. Such a strange concept, and Sterling didn't like it, not one bit.

He also had a question. The pony adjusted in his seat to sit up a bit more, and raised up a hoof to get her attention. "Uh, Miss Minerva, Ma'am? What about those who aren't significantly good at any sort of useful magic, or who don't know about fighting and defense? What could we do to help? For example, take myself. Aside from my Telekinetic magic and teleportation, I can't do much, nor can I hold weapons like a human can. Us ponies haven't had to properly fight anything for.... Centuries, probably. Its not in our nature!"

The squib glanced over at the purple equine that was speaking, and an ear flicked. Interesting creature, though his background led him to assume it was another kind of alien like himself. The Squib had no questions at this time, so instead he decided to do a bit of introspection for now. Turning his focus inward and closing his eyes, he started focusing on feeling out over this world, searching for this mountain the ogre's had mentioned Varg called home. His goal was simple, see if he could feel this undead abomination through the force and make sure he was indeed where the ogres expected him to be. Of course he kept himself tuned to his surroundings too, just in case his name was called for anything. But for now he was searching for this dragon named Varg, though he doubted something dead woudl have a presence in the force, and if it did, how twisted might it be?

[The BranRiech]

Bran

He'd known for a long time that the building was defended by some unseen force, though the specifics had eluded him until that very moment when Minerva actually explained it. Bran nodded as he gripped his cup of coffee, taking another sip of it as he thought through the security. Sure, Swith had put in a security system for his apartment, but did it really evolve into the building-wide defenses that were being discussed now, or were they different.

It didn't really matter either way, though the man was somewhat interested in the origins. Another time, perhaps.

Historically, Bran had never been much of a leader. In most things he ever did in his life, it was following orders from someone else, or doing something because someone else asked it of him. He didn't feel much too different, and besides, being a follower was easy.

"I can do whatever is required, Minerva. I'm not backing down." He bolted one of his hands up, just as he spoke. "I can lead if you want me to, or I can follow."

--

Drova

Was there really something that complicated defending the building?

"Miss Blackwater." Drova's hand also raised, sitting a few feet away from the presentation, having watched it intently. "Where would I be of most use?" He asked simply, rolling his shoulders in a shrug. He didn't want to lead anyone just yet, that would have to be saved for when he was actually a King, and when he felt ready to make those decisions, but volunteering seemed to be a good start at getting a better grasp on things. He'd also noticed as his friends trickled in as well, which amounted to mainly seeing a glimpse of Gio.

He noted that he'd have to ask about Marcus, the subject almost completely gone from his mind after a good few hours of sleep, and the presentation.

[Germanic Templars]

Templar Co.

Dr. Smith took mental notes on the defenses that surrounded and make up the building. The structure of the defenses intrigued the cyborg. A vast, unseen system that kept the residence safe when they did not even know it. Well most of them anyway. Smith glanced next to him at Max, who was still in his suit and with his helmet still on. He looked at the reflection of himself off the tinted visor that made up part of the helmet. He watched his eye turn yellow for a moment before returning back to a cyan. Smith gently shook Max's shoulder, startling the anthro for a moment before seeing who it was. No words were exchanged, but a small games of charades was played when Smith pointed at Max before giving a small tug on his own head, as if to symbolize that he should take off his helmet. Max complied with the order, taking off his helmet, however, taking it off was much easier.

Thriller, ignoring his teammates next to him, remained focus not on the ideal of the defenses but the numbers and the situation. He knew that he had two capable soldiers next to him, well the old artilleryman now doctor could be of some use maybe. Not for medical and this building, as far as he knew, had no howitzer on it. He did know that Max was a capable fireteam leader as well as follower and has fought a few abominations as far as he read. Thriller slowly stood up keeping a firm grasp on his coffee with both hands. As much as he wanted to speak, He stood there and waited until other residence spoke their voice.

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Crysal and Adri, Dining Room
Crysal lifted her hand lazily, showing off her fangs. Hrm. She hadn't really had the fun of training someone in quite a long time. Admittedly, most of the folk here weren't her ideal candidates, most of them somewhat short in comparison. Still, she felt she could make something out of a few of the locals. "I'd like to volunteer myself for training duty, if there's a need for it. I've had a few millenia of practice and practical experience, so I'd like to think I know what I'm doing." She said, remaining unflinchingly casual.

Next up was Adri, who had to stand up to be somewhat noticeable. Even that wasn't enough, so she had Crysal lift her up slightly. "Who is this Varg figure? I haven't left my apartment in weeks, I'm afraid I'm just a bit behind on my local news." She said, clearing her throat uncomfortably and sitting back down.

[Primordial Luxa]

Primordial

Primordial stepped forward away from the pile of arcane tomes and magical talismans which he was greedily guarding in one corner. “Minerva I happily support your claim to a being a military leader. I think it is only obvious given your impeccable record during previous invasions and your work history that you are more than qualified.” His comments were less guard towards the cultist leader and more towards the rest of the group. “That being said I would be happy to join or lead a group that wanted to try and deal with Varg although I defer to your advice in this regard since I could also help coordinate efforts here. Also, i’m not entirely sure where Aegis has run off to but I would bet a fair amount he will submit for any sort of military position when he arrives. ”

Aegis

Aegis gave Yuna an attention catching nudge as Sundae began her ranting and motioned to a nearby exit by straining his head and neck. “Why don’t we let ourselves out?” Aegis said in a hushed tone “I don’t like where the tone of this discussion is going. Perhaps while everyone else is focused on the crazy bitch we work on our art project?”Aegis was worried about exactly where Sundae was going with this and he felt that it would probably be best for everyone, Smart Cookie and themselves included, if they left. Who knows what kind of accusation might arise and what kind of answers they would be asked to give.

[Northwest Slobovia]

Amanda wasn't sure which of the things mentioned was the most extraordinary: Minerva's twice-daily deaths, the Building's defenses, the danger the Luxans posed to the Building and the Residents, or the vast scale of the wars Romulus described. She settled on the last one, imagining the population of the Earth thrown into a meat grinder. But Minerva's deaths followed as a close second: so that's why she didn't take charge!

She nodded at Minerva. "Captain, I've already followed you into battle, so I think I've demonstrated my confidence your abilities as a soldier. There is, however, the matter of your deaths... and of course, everybody needs to sleep. Crises will occur when they occur, and somebody needs to be ready to meet them. May I suggest you appoint an executive officer to command when you're unavailable? General Aphrodisiac seems to have the necessary qualifications, but I..." She trailed off uncharacteristically, looking uncertain, and then cupped her hands around one of Sandy's ears, whispering at length to him.

Sandy alternated between glancing sidewise, taking in his wife's reservations about the General's morality, and looking at the uniformed man himself a few tables over. After she stopped whispering, he tossed his head back and forth, thinking the matter over. Finally, he leaned over to Amanda and whispered "civilian control" to her.

Amanda immediately brightened. She should have thought of that! She then spoke enthusiastically: "Yes! I'll suggest General Aphrodisiac as your XO, given prior consultation with the Building's political leadership over rules of engagement."

Sandy had been mulling over the Building's defenses. They seemed very sophisticated, and historically, defense in depth proved effective when it could be managed. Still... Sandy raised a hand. "Captain? Our defenses seem sufficient to meet potential challenges, but it seems we were a bit surprised by this evening's visitors. Given that we're no longer in an urban area, would it be worth considering early warning devices? The Building sits atop a hill, so it makes a dandy watchtower. With a few cameras with telescopic lenses on the roof... perhaps with night vision or thermal-band detectors... we could be aware of all sorts of things coming. Obviously, cameras are crude compared to the rest of our defenses, but perhaps the idea will serve as a starting point for better systems."

[Mincaldenteans]

WARDROOM

Mezran and Tavana spoke quietly in hushed tones, as far as Klingons could keep it quiet at any rate. Much guttural and hissing sounds in Klingon escaped their attempts to being quiet, with Tavana letting out a soft sigh and took a step forward. The female warrior spoke for them both, "We will provide whatever assistance you may require, Minerva. Mezran and I are quite acquainted with war, offensively or defensively, and will stand with the others in whatever capacity you see fit. Also, if at all possible, Mezran will need his translator fixed soon," she gave a grin of jagged teeth while Mezran glowered at her with the coming dig at his basic engineering skills, "It was damaged in last night's battle and his attempt to fix the issue only damaged it further."

With nothing further to stay, Tavana stood back, opening the floor for anyone else.

Anais took that as her cue after hearing support for or nomination of each respective Residents. "The Guild will lend a hand wherever it's needed most."

She had agreed to the woman's urge on cooperation as it was a direct reflection to the proposed conclave earlier. Communication being the key, Anais had no reason to question backing Minerva as the Residential lead; tea meetings helped also. The others whom elected or offered themselves as officers under Minerva's charge were entirely a different matter, but she reminded herself that was based on being unfamiliar with many of the Residents as a whole and quick judgment based on personal bias would be against the spirit of what needed to be fostered here tonight. She let the nominations go without voicing concern, resolving to focus on her and the Guild's expertise and how it might aide the others rather than hinder it. She looked at Minerva and continued, making note of her guild's strengths, "Ours are more melee and magical based, in Erick or Cherry's case a hybrid of both, so I would ask we focus our assistance mostly into training. We can fill in any gaps for defense as you see warranted. Alexia and I will remain under the healer's group."

Which flowed to the next item that hadn't yet been broached, sooner than later or worse - too late. She took a breath and continued on after a momentary pause, glancing at Alexia who sat next to her quietly with hands together and legs crossed back. The ritualist turned her attention back to Minerva, "Despite my misgivings, on the matter of Varg, I have assigned Alexia to join the group that heads out first opportunity. She is a healer first, but her secondary skills are uniquely attuned to contending with the undead and I believe she can lend a hand be it directly or indirectly. Either way your party will have, at the very least, a healer.

"According to our guests earlier, Varg was released from its bonds when we arrived - crashed, rather - and was set free because of it. We are bound by the Law of the Wold, as he described it, and made it clear our duty to balance the scales as we part of the community now. It has already made its first attack against the Mof and his people before retreating to regain its lost power. Mof has stressed that it is in a weakened state and we're in a position to strike before his power grows too strong to overtake him. He was also explicitly clear; we cannot replicate the bonds that held it the first time given the amount of power required and other unsavory methods, and therefore we must destroy it as soon as possible."

[Swith Witherward]

DINING ROOM

Romulus' initial frustrations manifested themselves in little ways, be it the momentary clenching of fists or the flicker in his pupils, and didn't go unnoticed by Minerva. She didn't have to known him to understand a bit of the unease he must be experiencing, especially as generals were charged with leading. Yet Minerva didn't see herself as a general. Hers had slowly become a stagnant position, mostly administrative in nature, and although the woman enjoyed a good blood bath as well as any other cultist, she realized her organizational abilities outmatched her prowess on the battlefield. They needed all the generals they could get. She wished she had ten more like Romulus.

"It's an honor to have a General of the Imperium standing with us, sir. We'll definitely need to start cross-training with firearms," Minerva nodded at Romulus. "I have a Noise Marine that could use it, provided our priests can modify a weapon for his hands. Likewise, we need to modify some weapons for the thade and any other Residents with non-human hands. I'll get them working on that so, by time you return, they'll be ready for your instruction."

Sterling and Drova's questions brought a smile to Minerva's face. She nodded to both, fully knowing that this basic question was undoubtedly one tickling many other people's minds. Where do I fit in? What can I do? It wasn't Minerva's place to do Septimus' job, but she could at least hand him a capable volunteer force.

"Sometimes our greatest need isn't ammunition and steel, but compassion and determination. This Building is populated by talented and intelligent beings. The various healers in the Building have started a hospital on the 5th floor, and they could use all the help they can get when crisis strikes. Please see Professor Bela if you're interested in lending your skills. We also aren't in Bielefeld anymore. We'll have to figure out ways to sustain ourselves over not only the coming winter but also the following spring and summer seasons. We are, for all intents and purposes, practically a lost colony. This means that we'll need able bodies to help maintain the property outside, to clear fields, to sow crops, to raise livestock if necessary, and to trade with locals."

It wasn't difficult to spot Septimus in the crowd and, although he looked like he had started work on the mother of all hangovers, he seemed sober enough for the task at hand. "Someone really needs to spearhead agricultural concerns, Brother Itum. You have several Residents capable of that task, and you also have some excellent resources at your fingertips. There is no finer xenometeorologist than Mr Bodkins. Brother Deuce, though a Noise Marine, is also a storehouse of horticultural knowledge and may still have seed in bulk in his apartment... he was planning a garden in Bielefeld, you see. I suggested that Baron Primordial try and coordinate the various magic users and magical beings, and I think we'll come to rely heavily upon their talents when it comes to dealing with all the odd things our Residents might stumble upon."

"Forgive the interruption, Captain," Adrastus raised a finger to capture her attention. "I ran a completely self-sufficient monastery. I'm willing to lend my knowledge to whoever Brother Itum chooses to manage the agriculture aspect."

Minerva pursed her lips at the old cyborg abbot. She had dearly hoped he would volunteer to spearhead but, as usual, he preferred to support rather than lead. "I was hoping you'd make yourself available," she winked. "Thank you. As for the rest of you? We all have our own callings. Sometimes those callings are either put on hold or enhanced by a given situation. Perhaps this sudden change in locations is the best excuse ever for us to grow as individuals? That's not my place to say, but I thank you for anything and everything you're willing to offer."

Her eyes returned to Primordial, resting on his own unfathomably deep pupils a moment. "I appreciate your faith, Baron," she offered a genuine smile to the Luxan. "This isn't our first rodeo, eh? We've been through much. When all the violence of the universe rose up to destroy us, you stood fast beside me. When the raptors threatened to enslave us all, you refused to abandon us. We will perhaps eternally disagree with each other's methods, behaviors and pantheons, but I can't think of anyone I'd rather fight beside than you, old friend. Thank you for remaining now."

There were other indomitable spirits still with them. Bran and his family, Thriller and his staff, Katya and her sister. Old, familiar faces that had experienced far worse than a little jump to a new dimension. Minerva ferreted them out, nodding to each in turn. But there were newcomers as well, and these people were just as valued by her. And then there was Amanda. It wasn't that Minerva didn't value her. She did, but she was also a cultist and could taste Amanda's quirks. The lawyer tended to poke her nose into everything, and had a desire to be at the top of her game. Ambition was one of the nicest tools in Perfection's toolbox. Minerva, however, wasn't one to exploit others in such a manner.

"I assure you that I do not sleep, Mrs. Bela," she smiled at Amanda. "Nor do I require food or drink. I'm immortal in that regard. My physical body dies for precisely one hour, but my inner daemon remains fully in control and aware. In the event of an emergency whereby I'm caught in the middle of battle, I can delay my death or allow my inner daemon to manifest. Or, if I know ahead of time that my death will occur during a critical phase of a plan, I simply ask the vending machine to hasten the event," she pointed at the mundane looking thing in the corner of the dining room. "It dispenses the most delicious poisons."

Amanda's support of Romulus was another matter. Civilians really had no idea of the ins and outs of a military chain. "Your suggestion regarding the General is duly noted." She turned her face to meet Romulus' eyes. "But our forces are currently weak. It would be a disservice to us all to take the General out of his element during a crisis. Our current fighting force lacks cohesion. It's a cowboy outfit whereby each Resident operates according to his own rules. We need to mold them into a strong, cohesive force."

She returned her eyes to Amanda. "We are a multi-versal military force during times of crisis, Mrs Bela. We can't go by ranks and positions held in our former universes because they don't always equate. As the CO, I'm in overall command of our forces. My XO, Will, serves as my expediter. General Aphrodisiac is my tactical commander. I convey what needs done, and I place my full trust in him to complete that objective. It is his role to see that the units are formed and trained and equipped for that purpose. This is the same role he served in his Imperium, unless I'm completely failing to understand their set-up, and so this position is not in any way a demotion for him. It is his greatest strength and thus he becomes our greatest strength."

Her eyes twinkled as they met Sandy's. "We weren't caught unaware. In fact, the alarm was sounded long before the ogres had arrived. It's simply that, due to a lack of organization, everyone ran around like chickens without heads. Panic set in. People thought the worst had come. The General correctly assessed the need for firearms and took some people with him to retrieve some, but everyone else ran hither and yon... some even arriving late or kicking out the roof door without realizing the threat level had dropped. This will be General Aphrodisiac's concern. We'll work closely together to establish protocols for the Building so that, next time, things won't be so frantic. And, of course, your healers will work out their own protocols in tandem with ours so that, in a moment's notice, we'll have a fully staffed hospital and lobby triage center ready to go. Brother Itum likewise will work with both of us so that the non-combatants and those unskilled in healing can lend support to all or seek appropriate shelter. Smooth like clockwork. As for cameras? It's rather a low tech solution considering we already have high tech equipment in place, not to mention the Luxan's devices lining the woods - thank you for doing that, Baron - to raise the alarm. Tonight, basically, Morbus spotted it and told Bob, Bob told Klaus, and Klaus visually confirmed before sounding the alarm. The Luxan devices then confirmed the ogres had passed the property line. We'll need to teach the Building's system to communicate things to a broader chain, and this is where beings such as-" and here she had to wave her hand at Opa, not having been properly introduced yet, "-this fellow come in handy."

Tavana caught her attention next. She had hoped the Klingons would both volunteer themselves. "It is an honor to have you both with us. Mezran's slaughter of the tribble vermin greatly impressed the men on board my ship, and your stand in the Halls only proved our confidence in you both. Let no man say that Mezran, Son of Jag'oth, of the House of StoH'raQ, fears battle. Our priests will be happy to fix his translator." (A quick nod from Adrastus indicated that he was willing.)

"Your fighters would greatly help the General understand the best ways to merge magic and mundane," she smiled at Anais. "I'm not sure how familiar he is with this blending, but it can only help us gain cohesion. We have others, such as the Jedi, that use powers that are neither magic or strictly technology. It's going to be a group effort, to be sure."

Thankfully, Anais had also given Minerva a means of steering the meeting towards a more pressing matter. "Varg." She had come to hate the name already, and her face pulled a grimace as she uttered it. She topped off her coffee from the table carafe as the guild leader summarized the situation.

"I want to touch upon something for Giovenith's sake," she began once Anais had finished speaking. "Giovenith's mother, a Greater Being known as Pearlelei, has a great affinity for dragons. We are not rushing out to kill a dragon. We are killing an individual being that has already been judged once before on his heinous actions. He's a litch, meaning he's undead, and we've been charged with destroying what's left of him. Those of you who know me also know that I take a very dim view of anyone that purposefully slaughters a being based upon what it is, such as a dragon, a vampire, or a werewolf. Be very on guard when it comes to dealing with anyone outside this Building, and please don't be trigger happy. We don't know their Laws yet."

She folded her hands in front of her once more. "I think the best option is for people to voice up. Why do you want to go on this quest or mission, and what abilities to you have to lend to it? I jokingly called Marcus a squire earlier but the young man has seen combat before, and will also serve as a means for communicating with the Building. His processor and the priest's network. If, that is, he agrees to go. The General has the strength and melee skills to battle a large opponent. Vroo will add to his speed. Alexia's healing abilities and knowledge of the undead can only benefit us, as would any knowledge Primordial has. Giovenith, if you haven't considered going, you actually might prove to be a valuable asset to this group. Your pantheon's affinity, and your ability to guide them regarding dragon habits."

[New Aksarben]

Dining Room/War Room

Sterling was happy with the response he got. He didn't want to fight, unless he absolutely had to. He could always help with agriculture, but his mind was better at organizing than planting seeds. He'd be a better help in the hospital so he was going to volunteer there and start to learn how to deal with wounds and first aid situations, if he could. His telekinetic magic could be even more precise than human hands at times after all. The pony smiled and sat down, to listen to the rest of the speech, answering all the questions, his expression a lot more calm than it had been most of today.

Maghrl snapped out of his minor trance at the mention of Jedi, though he had heard the rest of it. He nodded in confirmation that his abilities were definitely not magic, but in a way manipulation of the forces of the universe itself. The Force was strange, even the Jedi barely understood its nature. Then again, the Jedi Order was barely a few decades old at this point, and Master Luke had a lot to recover still. But that was a matter should he ever get back to his home galaxy.

The Squib hopped up from his seat so he was standing on his chair, his robe swishing around his feet slightly as he did. Now he was at the same height of everyone else, and could properly look at the group at eye level. The small alien was definitely going to volunteer for the task of fighting Varg. "Maghrl wish join-help Varg-spedition." for some reason, the squib had decided to combine the words 'Varg' and 'expedition' into one weird mix. "Like Minerva say, Jedi good at Force, not Magic. Might be able to keep track of Vargpieces from presence Forcewise, should dragonlich be in Force. Maghrl good with Lightsaberfight, Saber cut through tissue-bone no problem you betcha. Can possibly catch attacks with telekentic-force, prevent Dragonflight maybe same way. Many possiblething! Maghrl also able simple heal, and with focuswise see bit into futuretime. Especially battlewise precognition skill."

The squib paused for a moment to catch his breath, before resuming. He also shifted his pose a bit, and gave a small frown.

"Maghrl want to help rid world of something most likely not of Force. Undead is not koovy, no siree. Maghrl wish help with dangerquest as it Jedi-duty protect-help innocent, unfortunate. Vargdragon cause harm to world, to life on world If he left. Maghrl wish to stop destruction from happen-going."

Then the small jedi sat down again, smiling. He just hoped that they would understand him. It was hard understanding Squibish dialects without a bit of practice.

[Germanic Templars]

Max's ears fell back at the mention of the door kicking.

Seeing how people's questions and comments were addressed, Thriller took the time to speak up his peace," If I may say, Blackwater, I believe I can be of some help. I have supplies, weapons and armor if I must specify, stored away in Maximum's room. I can provide them to anyone who needs them." He then looked down at Max who happened to look at him with his ears perked up. Still gazing at the anthro Thriller added, "And to say more, I am giving you control over Sergeant Security XXIII. He is use to leading fire teams and squads but since he comes from a different background and different opponents, it is better to learn. And since I really do know what enemies he faced in the past, Dr. Smith could tell you more.

"Data classified, most of it at least." Dr. Smith retorted.

"No need to act like I pissed in your tea. Continuing, in terms of auxiliary, Smith and I are prior service, respective to our old nations we served. He was an artilleryman and me a medic. Hand him a howizer and he can land a good shot, and me I can provide my medical skills in the hospital or on the field. Whichever more appropriate - or rather more needed."

[Giovenith]

Building

Giovenith sighed, her hands clenched together and propped under her chin in melancholy. Taking a moment to breathe, the godling looked back up at the cultist Captain.

"I understand, Minerva," she relented. "Even my mother has said that ultimately the safety of other innocents should come before dragons. If it is a dragon that has done ill, then I can have no quarrel with it's destruction."

She sighed again and erected her stance.

"I can accompany you," the godling said. "I would be being absolutely neglectful to sit on my own skills with draconic kind while others risk their lives going on guesses. And..."

The girl turned to Romulus, her hair catching the light.

"... I also promise to not distract or hold back Marcus, if he chooses to go with as well."


Yuna and Aegis

Sundae, meanwhile, was not happy.

"You said I could speak!" she hissed at SkyWishes, eyes glistening with visible hurt.

SkyWishes wasn't sympathetic despite the puppy eyes, shaking her head and hissing back. "That was before you said things like that! Shame on you! I know you're scared, but that's not an excuse to be hateful."

"I'm not hateful!" Sundae was genuinely aghast at the idea, trembling from a sense of hopelessness and persecution. "It's the truth! The truth isn't hate! I'm trying to save everypony!"

"You are insane!" SkyWishes snapped, jabbing a hoof at the other filly. Normally the refreshment maid's patience was quite long, but Sundae Surprise had pushed even her to the edge. "You speak for nopony but yourself, you do not know anything more than any of us. Stop acting like you do! You're not helping or saving anypony, you're only causing more problems!"

Sundae wiped at sincere tears leaking from her eyes, sniffing and whimpering, feeling incredibly sorry for herself. It was one thing to be a complete paranoid lunatic, it was another to be a paranoid lunatic who thought the world was against her. It added on an entire new layer of annoyance and general social chaos. "The one being hated is me! I'm trying to be a good pony and everypony is always being mean to me because of it!"

SkyWishes was having none of that shit. She rolled her eyes with a grimace. "Get off it!"

"It's true! SkyWishes, it's why we're hurt, the Earth allowed the other tribes to hex us!"

"Goodness gracious, it is not a hex-"

The bickering between the two young mares was interrupted by the loud creaking and swinging of the door to the hall opening right behind them. The loud wind from outside also drew the attention of most of the ponies in the room, and it managed to all occur before Yuna and Aegis could make their slick exit. There in the doorway stood a dazed stallion on the younger side, looking thoroughly disheveled and notably underdressed given the weather. He looked out at the crowd with wide, confused, almost doe-like eyes with his mouth agape. He said nothing. Everypony stared right back, including Sundae and SkyWishes.

Chancellor Puddinghead shifted her eyes in awkward confusion then cleared her throat. "Welcome there! Have a seat. You're late, but you can still participate."

The young stallion didn't answer, continuing to stare at the surrounding ponies.

"You there!" the Chancellor pointed out somepony in the back. "Help him, would you? Give him something warm to wrap himself in."

A mare hopped from her seat and moved toward the youngster with a friendly smile, pulling a blanket from the pouch she had at her side. "There, there, come in now, everything's going to be alright..."

Forearms moved to wrap the blanket tight around the newcomer, bringing him close - that was a mistake. The youngster let out a throaty, strangled scream the second he was touched, lifting his head to the air and letting it ring to the shock of all who were pleasant. Quick as lightening, the screaming pony then bit into the mare's foreleg with his teeth, drawing her blood and her screams. He pushed her down to the floor before anypony could react and continued to bite her more, letting out the same strangled screams from before.

Sundae was the first to react. Her eyes dillated and she screamed, "I told you all it was black magic!"

This served as the snapping point for the huge gathered crowd, who all immediately flew into a complete panic at once. Hundreds of scared, confused, frantic ponies all ran about, slamming into one another and shoving in an attempt to clear out of the building through the side doors all at once, completely and utterly disregarding their once somewhat grounded reasoning regarding all of it. There was one pony fucking trying to eat another.

Chancellor Puddinghead was the first to take action. Ever the innovator, she jumped upon her podium, gripped her gavel, and threw it was precision force over the crowd and across the room, where it collided squarely into the forehead of the cannibal and knocked him backward. She then leaned forward to knock over her stoop and shatter the wood on purpose, ripping out a long, sharp shard and diving into the crowd towards the gruesome scene.

The politician was apparently skilled in a lot more areas than she let on.

Aegis and Yuna were soon gripped tightly by Smart Cookie, who was just as shocked and scared as anypony else. "I have no farking idea what's going on!" she screamed to them over the roar of the panicking crowd.


Brit and Chrys

"Magic doesn't necessarily obey the same principles as tangible things do," Arrow explained, looking back down the hall. "If it was capable of seeping into the living areas of the castle, it would have already done so, no walls are going to hold it back."

She frowned and shivered as negative waves pushed through the cold air of the halls and against her face.

"But that's no reason to let anypony else discover it," she said, narrowing her eyes and pushing Brit through the walkway. Hopping after her, they found themselves in a narrow hallway covered in crimson and gold wallpaper, with chatting voices coming from the turn down at the other end. Using her rapid telekinesis, Arrow began to rearrange the rocks back into place as best she could so as not to arouse suspicion, topping it off by replacing the dainty portrait on it that had been knocked down in the two's escape attempts.

The talking from down the hall stopped. "Who's there?!" somepony called.

Arrow froze and exchanged a look with Brit. With the wall rebuilt, them out of the magic-constricting maze, and back to square one - Arrow teleported out, leaving Brit alone to suffer the consequences of whatever was to come.

Round the corner, a face peaked out and spotted Brit. Telekinesis gripped the traveler by her robes and dragged her all the way to the end to face the unicorn: the princess.

Their initial meeting had been a rushed experience, and this tense stand-off was now able to allow a better examination of the Princess Platinum's features. She wasn't very tall, shorter than Brit, and without the flashy make-up that seemed so popular here in Caer Gloriana, her face was no more remarkable than Clover, Willow, or any other pony's. Her bright, platinum blonde hair was another story. As was the common style in the Medieval era on Earth, it was grown out freakishly long, more noticeably so given that it seemed to be very damp as that moment (and reeking of perfumes), her telekinetic magic lifting the tips of her mane and tail to keep them from dragging onto the floor. Light lavender eyes pierced at Brit at first, but then began to lighten as the unicorn noticed something.

"I-Is everything alright, your highness?" somepony else called from the other room.


Clover nodded as Chrys spoke and the young magician lead the way back up the stairs and into the main library.

"It's good to know that you empathize," she said, levitating a few gems, some fabric, and a needle and thread from one of her work tables. "I do hope that after all this we can perhaps stay in contact, and I could see this world that you have responsibilities in. But dreaming is for later."

The needle and thread went to work on the supplies through the air, threading the gems into a necklace and sewing the fabric into a sheath for Mirare. Both were given to Chrys, a quick zap to the necklace stabilizing the Conservapony's form and turning her once again into a normal-looking unicorn. Mirare fit nicely into the sheath, and Clover's magic gently tightened the strap around Chrys' waist.

"Yes, we should go looking for Brit now," she agreed, packing a few more items (including several more sticks of chalk). "The princess is ultimately harmless, but she has been under a lot of stress lately, and it's been doing a number on her. I'd hate to think she's taking it out on Brit. Try not to sheath Mirare on the way, I don't want anypony noticing I gave it to you... we could get in a lot of trouble."

[Swith Witherward]

RACHE AND WILLOW

Rache and Willow

Willow was admittedly taken off guard by a lot of things Rache had said and had to commend him for catching them for him.

"I certainly would hope he didn't already make his way to the cave," he said, now feeling a sense of urgency. "Not only would Pansy not be with him, but we'd also have no way of knowing if the other members of the tribes are on their way there either. It will all be pointless if not all three races are represented."

All of this was insanely difficult beyond what Willow could have guessed at. It was trouble enough trying to balance maintaining history with finding their friends (which he held in equal regard), but it would be even worse if Commander Hurricane was blatantly going off-script for whatever reason. Could they have caused this somehow? Was time travel like in the movies where even killing a little bug could cause some great catastrophe in the distant future? No... no, Rache had experience with time travel and he didn't seem too concerned about that. Besides, they had arrived after Commander Hurricane left, so it couldn't have been them.

Rache's thoughts about Cloud Duster were the most surprising to the artist, if only due to how heavy the daemon's comparisons were. Maybe it was because of the different experiences the two of them had with the guy (what with the Private literally saving his life and comforting him at the museum), but to Willow, Duster largely came across as a normal, helpful pony who just wasn't very comfortable talking about his family for whatever reason, who maybe also suffered from a little time period-related moral dissonance.

"You really think he's so bad that you could stuff a daemon into him?" the painter cringed a little. "Don't you think that's a little... extreme? I mean, okay, I know I'm the one who told you to be careful about not judging ponies by their appearances, and you do have way more expertise in that area than me, but that's a pretty high level of twisted, isn't it? How does a seventeen-year-old pony of all things just get that crazy out of nowhere?"

The suggestion was made more chilling given their current location; it was a given that in any military-based society citizens were likely to be lacking a certain warmth to them, but Rache didn't have a problem with any of them, it was only the random teenage novice that blipped on his psycho radar. Willow trusted Rache's intuition, but it really begged the question of what could possibly be so damn wrong with somepony like Cloud Duster that he stood out and not any of the soldiers, veterans, or other ponies who were way more likely to have an extensive relationship with violence and terror than a Private.

Yuna. Yuna was one of Giovenith's friends, so he couldn't help but lend some of his own brotherly regard for the godling to the princess. You also protected the peers of the individuals you protected, yes? He hoped Rache was right and that she had put her ingenuity to the test with blending in with the natives. The best case scenario is that like with Rache, she (and the others as well) had been morphed into the appropriate pony race of whatever territory they fell into and were being treated well.

"The best chance we currently have at finding the others is using the diplomacy opening Star Catcher gave us to our advantage," he said. "We'll have to be careful about not blowing our cover, but we can't leave them out alone for too long. I mean, at least you've got me to give you a little bit of information about blending in, but they're just going on their guts. I do hope what you said about Yuna is true..."

Magic? He didn't have a problem with that, not if it would help them decide what to do. He nodded. "You have my permission."

Rache could only offer conciliatory shrugs and the occasional panged expression as Willow pondered the daemon's hesitations regarding Cloud Duster. It was difficult for Rache to convey the source of his suspicions. Perhaps it really was just a difference in species or wild assumptions on his part, but things still didn't sit right with Rache. Cloud Duster's false smiles, scheming mind, and odd behaviors made it so. As for stuffing a daemon into him? He was Plotter's ilk, and that aspect of the pantheon had never made Rache feel easy.

"I'd be lost without you," Rache admitted as he settled in front of Willow and prepared to work his magic. It was simply a matter of comparing Willow's spirit, or essence, to the environment itself. It didn't take much effort, and so Rache prattled as he worked. "I could probably fake amnesia or pretend to be addled from the weather, but I'm sure your people would have caught on sooner than later. You thanked me earlier for helping but, in truth, it really is my pleasure. Now, let's see if we're in your home dimension after all. You must sit very still." And then he locked eyes with the pony.

"Terrible news, Willow," he moaned after several heartbeat's worth of melodramatic staring. Rache leaned in closer, his eyes widened in terror, and his voice dropped to a dreadful whisper. "You... have some mush stuck on your nose."

A quick flash of the hoof gently removed it, and then Rache crumbled into a laughing heap of pony on the floor. You could take the daemon out of his element, but you just couldn't take the Klaus out of his daemon. He sincerely hoped that Yuna and Chrys, wherever they were, had likewise taken a moment to purge some stress with laughter.



DINING ROOM/WAR ROOM/THAT PLACE WHERE WE USED TO KILL EACH OTHER

"Your medic's skills will come in handy for both the healer group and any team the General assigns you," Minerva curtly nodded to Thriller before expanding upon it for Romy's benefit. "Cornelius Thriller is a veteran of not only his own wars, but the last Drone invasion. He's stubborn, stalwart, and driven. Give him a good team to work with, and he'll go the extra mile to accomplish an objective. Sadly, we don't have many of his forces here. The Sons and Daughters, that is. But we have Max and Dr Smith."

Rather than touch upon something she could deal with later, she addressed the rest in the room. "Will and I plan on sitting down with each Resident this week, sounding them out and seeing where their strengths lie. We'll take stock of donated supplies then, as well. If you're interested in protecting the Building, let Volker know. He mans the front desk." Not forgetting the chain, she added, "You'll have my full report to review once you return, Romulus. That should make it easier for mapping your teams out."

Getting back to the Varg situation... Minerva was pleased that Maghrl volunteered. She didn't understand much about the Force but her brief exposure to the Sith shortly after the Drone invasion convinced her that it wasn't a thing to take lightly. "Glad to have you. We'll hold a brief meeting after this one," she told the Jedi. "I've asked the Baron to bring all those books for a reason."

Giovenith's words brought relief. Slaughtering dragons for no good reason wouldn't sit well with her, and not only because the dragon might be an innocent. Pearlelei's kindness and common sense had earned the respect of every last Chaos avatar and their forces. She was a force of good, a Creator god, but that power was tempered by fairness. The last thing Minerva wanted was to piss her off. "General, this might be difficult to accept if you're not accustomed to them in person, but Giovenith is a godling. The Baron and the Guild can offer all sorts of guidance when it comes to dealing with undead things, but Giovenith is your humble adviser when it comes to Varg himself. No one here has the same relationship with dragons as she, and if she ascertains that Varg is an innocent, we might need to rethink the plan. That's why I intend to have Marcus along. Communications. On the off chance that the ogres have lied to us, I believe I speak for most of us when I say we are not going to be used as unwitting henchmen for another faction. Do we have any more volunteers?"

[The BranRiech]

Bran

"Any more volunteers . . ."

Bran repeated Minerva's request for people, and nodded in response from his seat, still cupping the mug of hot coffee in his hands. "You know me, Minerva." He nodded. Gone were the days of youthfulness, when Bran's eyes always had a spark of wonder in them, and the smile was nearly impossible to wipe away from his dopey face. His eyes were dull, and his face showed definite signs of maturity. He was still a young man, chronologically of course, yet his life's experiences added up to more than a lifetime of eventful living, and it was starting to take it's toll.

"I'm always willing to throw in my part, I think. I can defend building with the chopper, I can accompany on the quest to defeat the Dragon, I could sit by if needed to." He chortled, almost finding respite, to picture himself lounging on the roof in a leather recliner, while everyone else ran off to risk death and destruction.

Being a father was still tougher anyways.

--

Drova

"Like him." Drova gestured over to Bran, speaking of his willingness to do anything possible to help. Was this his chance to do something . . . Difficult? Thriller had told him that maybe some of his insecurities were coming from that simple fact, the one where Drova basically admitted to living a posh life, despite how much he made it seem like he had it harder. "I'd like to accompany to kill this . . . Lich?" He questioned, having never actually heard the word before.

Well, that was a lie. It was one of those confusing words that he'd heard tossed around, but never bothered to know what it ever meant.

"I'd like to go, well, honestly, because my friends are going." He started, feeling a little bad for even admitting that it was more for personal reasons. "But I also . . . I also need the experience, I think. I want to help in at least some capacity."

--

Yuna

What the hell was happening?

Was this what the end of the world would be like? It was something Yuna thought about every now and then, her mind going over random hypotheticals, and one time, she stumbled upon the idea of what it would be like to see a total breakdown of society. It was a little darker than her usually-positive mindset, but they were always fun to think about at least.

And now she knew, putting her random theories to bed quite fast as the townsponies all started running in terror.

"Aegis! W-we need to get out of here!"

She didn't even have time to finish shouting, before they were both pressed tightly against the Chancellor's secretary, the one who was still guiding them through the world, and was now guiding them out (At least Yuna hoped so). "W-where are we going?! How do we get out!?"

[Germanic Templars]

Leaning against the wall staying quiet and observant during the meeting, Lucius found a better time than never to speak up and actually try and do something. After all, he spent most of his time trying to find out where they were. The angel raised his hand, "I'll go along to fight this lich. After all, the skull on my axe is shinning like a diamond and has been for a few years, so now would be a good time to put it to use. Other then that, I can provide minor healing and other support needed. Mainly I just want to come along so I can take notes about this, place we are in - or at." Lucius admitted.

He glanced down at Superbia, who seemed to have fallen asleep judging by how the demon was slumped against the wall with his chin against his chest. It was always hard to tell when the demon was sleeping and when he was awake. He looked back up at Minerva. "As for Superbia, he is no healer and given his name he is the epitome of stubbornness, but god willing he does something useful for the cause. After all, I cannot see my partner do nothing."

[Monfrox]

Brit had been deceived. To think that maybe, just maybe Arrow may have had a good streak in her, all went out the window the second she left her high and dry. She better hope to whatever deity or piece of literature or whatever she worshiped that Brit didn't run into her again. And like that, she was off to see the princess. The wonderful princess of the unicorns. Oh God, she had to think fast (but not TOO fast) to get out of this one. Within the minute, she found herself looking directly at said princess. After a painful second and a half, she reached the inevitable conclusion for solving this peacefully: groveling.

"I-I'm sorry, princess. I received a message to see you, but I was lost on the way."

She'd stop there, making up a story in her mind for if Princess Platinum didn't buy it and or pressed her further. To try to keep matters believable, she lowered her forelegs in a sort of bow to allow the princess to look down on her instead of up while adorning a pitiful expression on her face. Body language was an essential, yet mostly overlooked part of negotiations, and right now she needed all her wits to get out of this one clean.

[Highfort]

Septimus offered a tired nod though he scratched his head at Minerva's orders; diplomatic business was one thing but delegating orders had never been his strong suit. Luckily, Brother Adrastus seemed eager enough to serve. If his self-sufficient monastery was all it was cracked up to be then the elder cyborg would be able to fill the assignment with ease.

"I believe, Brother Adrastus, that you would make an excellent Minister of Agriculture if no one else would like the position," Septimus piped up, clearing his throat as his liver continued its work and his senses slowly returned to him, "I would like to see your monastery's facilities at some point, just to be sure that we're up to running a full growing and harvesting operation to feed everyone in the Building. We can supplement any shortfalls with trips to Ascalon for supplies, though I'd rather avoid heavy entanglement with the city for now."

Before he could react to any of the volunteers for the Varg Expedition - or to the notion that perhaps the dragon was friendly, which Septimus found rather suspicious though not impossible - the worn mass of white-and-blue metal that was Opa piped up to repeat his earlier inquiry.

"How may I. Be of service, Sister?" the monotone voice was cranked up several notches to ensure he could be heard over the others, "It is my. Best assessment that. I would be most. Useful in assisting. With this 'dragon' creature. That you speak of. Perhaps I should. Accompany the team?"

"Not so fast," Septimus raised a hand in disapproval, his headache returning at the grating voice of the newcomer droid, "Captain Blackwater, this combat droid is designed for riot and civilian policing - at least by his own admission. If this is true, he's not as well-equipped or armored as his military counterparts - and hardly capable of tackling a dragon, if Varg is as powerful as the ogres mentioned. In any case I don't trust him not to shoot the beast if it proves neutral toward us. He is, after all, a newcomer and we're still unsure of his allegiance."

"But an order. Would stay my. Weapons," Opa turned to Septimus with what almost looked like a glare, though obviously such an emotion would not be programmed into a fighting robot except to intimidate enemies, of which Septimus did not qualify. Turning back to Minerva, the robot reiterated, "I exist to. Serve, Sister. My functions are primarily. For combat. This is a. Combat Mission. May I accompany. The team?"

[Primordial Luxa]

Aegis
Aegis followed Smart Cookie’s instruction and directions. He didn’t feel much remorse for this horses and he was thankful that something had come up that would allow them to move along with the important plans. He probably would have felt differently if Smart Cookie had been one of the ponies in trouble since she was paramount to their safety. But as it stood he was in a purely practical mood eager to do whatever it took to get back home, and damn everyone and thing that got in his way.

Still he eyed the cannibal pony with the careful eye of someone skilled in the fine arts of sadism, murder and magic trying to get a better sense of exactly who or what was transpiring here.

“I know” he said bluntly to Yuna as he surveyed the room looking for any kind of potential exit.

[Northwest Slobovia]

"Tonight, basically, Morbus spotted it and told Bob, Bob told Klaus, and Klaus visually confirmed before sounding the alarm. The Luxan devices then confirmed the ogres had passed the property line. We'll need to teach the Building's system to communicate things to a broader chain, and this is where beings such as-" and here she had to wave her hand at Opa, not having been properly introduced yet, "-this fellow come in handy."

Sandy tilted his head to the side, brow knitted, trying to understand Blackwater's description of events. He slowly switched his focus from Blackwater to the diagram on the whiteboard, then to Klaus, and back again. It didn't seem to fit together, either as the design of a set of defensive systems or as the timing of the ogres' apparent detection and the alarm being raised. After a long delay, he hestiantly said, "I'm not sure I understand, Captain. Why would a system that sophisticated need visual confirmation? But if it does... shouldn't we add cameras to it to make up for the lack?" Sandy shook his head: he was missing something.

He blinked a couple of times, pulling himself back to other topics. "Yes, anybody interested in being a healer, please see me. And please, just 'Sandy'. Nobody ever called me 'Professor Bela' except my undergrad students."

Turning back to Blackwater, he said, "As to volunteering, I think I may be able to go. I need to get some things settled with the healers before I leave. I was planning on having a longer discussion in the next day or two, however, I think we can manage with just the essentials in the short run, which we can settle tonight."

"What more do we know about our quarry? From the library train that floated in behind Baron Primordial, I gather we know less than we like."

He looked hopefully to Anais and the baron, but Amanda spoke first. "Not much more than you've heard so far, dear. 'Seven days as the ogre runs' is all they said about distance, and they gave us a map." Then to the others who'd spoken to the ogres: "Who has their map? The group going will need that." She turned back to Sandy. "We're to start where the sheep were, then head east to a mountain cave. Since fighting Varg is an obligation on us, most of the Woldkin will leave us be, and some might offer food or shelter."

Sandy leaned back, scratching a cheek thoughtfully. "I can go, mostly in a support role. I have magic that will keep people warm and provide things to drink. Both of those will make winter travel much easier than mundane supplies. I have other spells to enhance people's senses, to see in the dark and so forth. Very handy in dark woods and short days. Amanda and I also have some camping supplies I can bring: two tents, a dining fly, a small camp stove, a mantle lantern -- and gas for both stove and lantern -- and some other things. And, of course, I know the way to the Garden of Shadows, since I was there this morning."

"If I can get above the forest canopy, I can scout or provide flying overwatch." Sandy paused for a second, looking at the others. "Oh, some of you don't know: part of the time I'm Pegasus, the Olympians' flying horse. I have a little magic on loan from them." He winked at Anais: yes, he was the spark that set off his war. "And, if desperately needed, I make a fine pack animal: Pegasus is a big horse, like a Percheron or a Shire horse.

"Once we find Varg, well, the little I know of liches says that they maintain their unlife via enchantments. I can help Baron Primordial and Alexia tune their magic very precisely against that. As Pegasus, I can also carry one of them if needed, so Varg won't be able to get away from us simply by flying away. He may be able to outfly me, but that's harder than outflying somebody on the ground."

On the off chance that the ogres have lied to us, I believe I speak for most of us when I say we are not going to be used as unwitting henchmen for another faction."

That got Amanda's attention: do great minds think alike, or did Minerva have Lads listening in the shadows as they spoke with the ogres? Or outside as she followed up with them? Hm... If she did, that was two leading questions in short order. What was she playing at? Ascalon was the next topic on the agenda, and that made Amanda wonder if she may be lying in wait to condemn her or the entire group for their failure. Hmm... Amanda mentally shifted gears as she addressed Minvera's concern.

"We may be too late for that, Captain: the Burrows-dwellers may have made us accessories to a crime already. The ogres said we helped the Burrows-dwellers steal the Fey's sheep. However, the Law of the Wold is ok with that: 'We are all one. When one is harmed, all are harmed. When one is helped, all are healed.' So, the Fey accept our part in it as helping the villagers. I think; we didn't get much more than that."

"However, I asked the ogres what the Burrows-dwellers themselves believe, and their answer seemed to imply that they also follow the Law of the Wold, but I'm not sure of that. If they do -- and it seems they do, since they'd previously strongly implied that they'd gotten sheep they same way -- they may view taking sheep from the Fey as acceptable, and our part in it as acceptable as well: they didn't think they were doing anything wrong, so neither were we. But that's something that really needs to be followed up on."

"Oh, and we also need to follow up on this question of property lines: depending on what we're claiming, we may have conflicting claims with the Woldkin and Burrows-dwellers. The ogres were explicit about how they want their land treated. We don't have to do that now, but we should clarify our claims before we adjorn tonight."

Sandy looked distinctly nonplussed at the idea of being consider a criminal: "Yes, they seemed to say the Fey put up with us so long as we played by their rules."

[Tiltjuice]

Brit and Chrys

"Magic doesn't necessarily obey the same principles as tangible things do," Arrow explained, looking back down the hall. "If it was capable of seeping into the living areas of the castle, it would have already done so, no walls are going to hold it back."

She frowned and shivered as negative waves pushed through the cold air of the halls and against her face.

"But that's no reason to let anypony else discover it," she said, narrowing her eyes and pushing Brit through the walkway. Hopping after her, they found themselves in a narrow hallway covered in crimson and gold wallpaper, with chatting voices coming from the turn down at the other end. Using her rapid telekinesis, Arrow began to rearrange the rocks back into place as best she could so as not to arouse suspicion, topping it off by replacing the dainty portrait on it that had been knocked down in the two's escape attempts.

The talking from down the hall stopped. "Who's there?!" somepony called.

Arrow froze and exchanged a look with Brit. With the wall rebuilt, them out of the magic-constricting maze, and back to square one - Arrow teleported out, leaving Brit alone to suffer the consequences of whatever was to come.

Round the corner, a face peaked out and spotted Brit. Telekinesis gripped the traveler by her robes and dragged her all the way to the end to face the unicorn: the princess.

Their initial meeting had been a rushed experience, and this tense stand-off was now able to allow a better examination of the Princess Platinum's features. She wasn't very tall, shorter than Brit, and without the flashy make-up that seemed so popular here in Caer Gloriana, her face was no more remarkable than Clover, Willow, or any other pony's. Her bright, platinum blonde hair was another story. As was the common style in the Medieval era on Earth, it was grown out freakishly long, more noticeably so given that it seemed to be very damp as that moment (and reeking of perfumes), her telekinetic magic lifting the tips of her mane and tail to keep them from dragging onto the floor. Light lavender eyes pierced at Brit at first, but then began to lighten as the unicorn noticed something.

"I-Is everything alright, your highness?" somepony else called from the other room.


Clover nodded as Chrys spoke and the young magician lead the way back up the stairs and into the main library.

"It's good to know that you empathize," she said, levitating a few gems, some fabric, and a needle and thread from one of her work tables. "I do hope that after all this we can perhaps stay in contact, and I could see this world that you have responsibilities in. But dreaming is for later."

The needle and thread went to work on the supplies through the air, threading the gems into a necklace and sewing the fabric into a sheath for Mirare. Both were given to Chrys, a quick zap to the necklace stabilizing the Conservapony's form and turning her once again into a normal-looking unicorn. Mirare fit nicely into the sheath, and Clover's magic gently tightened the strap around Chrys' waist.

"Yes, we should go looking for Brit now," she agreed, packing a few more items (including several more sticks of chalk). "The princess is ultimately harmless, but she has been under a lot of stress lately, and it's been doing a number on her. I'd hate to think she's taking it out on Brit. Try not to sheath Mirare on the way, I don't want anypony noticing I gave it to you... we could get in a lot of trouble."

Brit and Chrys

How strange it felt still, to see things done by magic and not by hand. It was time to get down to business, however, and not waste further thought on what might be. What was came first.

With a mute nod, Chrys followed Clover's lead - the better to make sure Mirare wouldn't slip out of the sheath, and to see that the abstruse wings were properly unseen by the miraculous necklace. The sacred object would be bad if seen, clearly; but even worse if it somehow came to harm on her watch.

"Tell me more about your princess," Chrys ventured, curious to learn more about the leader of the unicorns. "Are there any more troubles besides the storm?"

[Chedastan]

Romulus was feeling quite alright with the position being given to him to be an XO under Minerva, in fact he was very thankful for it. He knew they had to be trusting him with a lot on this, and he was sure he wouldn't disappoint, he had led massive armies after all, this should be Cadet level by comparison he hoped. He still couldn't help but worry though, that he could still fail them quite easily, as this was in fact still a very alien place to what he was used to, and he was just getting to know everyone here. Though when Minerva eventually brought up that she will have a report for him of the building's residents when he got back, Romulus felt very relieved that Minerva and Will were already a step ahead of him and were going out their way to make his job a lot easier, he was appreciative of that.

He did briefly eyed the Belas' questionably when he saw Amanda's husband whisper to her before, and she had previously said that he should be given prior consultation with their political leadership over ROE. Luckily Minerva shot down that suggestion before he could even say anything on the matter. Sometimes he wondered what a democratic type was thinking when they said something like that, that to him as an military officer made no sense. Though he stopped thinking about that when Giovenith relations to dragons had been brought up to him.

It did bring about a good question that had been on the back of his mind, could the ogres been lying about Varg? When he had thought of it now, he realized they didn't have any evidence but their words to back their claim up. Having known now of Giovenith's special relation to hopefully all dragonkind, Romulus was obviously even more willing to trust her word than that of any ogre or anything else. Though a bit of him was very sure that Varg was still at least probably very guilty of something, though he guessed they wouldn't know for sure of anything until they have gotten to him. But either way the idea of possibility being used by the ogres was a little unsettling to him, it made him wary of what they might be really up to.

He got up from his chair again to address the Godling's importance to the quest. "Giovenith, I am trusting of Minerva's word that you will be of great use to us on this quest, and fully welcome you as our adviser of dragon matters during it. When the time comes for Varg, I hope that he is completely innocent of any crime, but if he clearly isn't, then I could only offer whatever justice shall come to him, I hope we understand that... But if it turns out he really is innocent, then the ogres will have a lot of explaining to do, and I don't think they would like to explain it to us very nicely." He ended off by turning his head to the rest of the people around him.