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[Telgin]

The thread died, and moves faster than ever!  Also, this update contains considerable violence.



Isolde's Journal - 5th Hematite, 224

A couple more days have passed, and it seems that everyone in town is starting to settle down a little.  What happened to Alpine Ash is tragic, but we have to move on.  I'm not sure whether to be thankful that he had no family in town or not.  I'll be sending correspondence back with the caravan regardless so that they can inform his kin.

I'm doing my best to cope with my own issues... to which I thought I'd start working on a few town beautification projects.  While we can't weed and pave the bottom of the bath house's pools until the winter, we can finish building the rest of it.  We have a lot of leftover diorite from the mines, which Patina suggested we use for the task.  The guardhouse is made out of quartzite and is a different color, so I agree with her assessment.

We've also started working on more roads in the neighborhoods, which as always make the town much nicer to look at.

Oh, but best of all, Freija went to work on some statues I commissioned and finished them in record time.  We have two at the hospital and two at the tavern now.  I'm very pleased with her choice of subject too.  After Alpine Ash's untimely demise, we can all use a reminder that the guard are here to protect us.



6th Hematite, 224

It seems that no sooner than Freija finished those statues, she was taken by one of those horrifying trances.



Is it related to the monster?  Is it related to the ghost?  It doesn't seem to be, but the timing is close enough that I have to wonder now.  Dreadful magics could be at work here that none of us know about.

I'm trying not to worry though.  She's currently working hard in one of the mason's shops on something.  Hopefully it will be something pleasant.

11th Hematite, 224

At least Freija is fine now.  It took her almost a week of working in the mason's shop to finish it, but she dragged her new hatch cover out of the workshop this morning.



I'm a little concerned about the imagery she chose to put on it, but overall it's very detailed and elaborate work.  I wish we had somewhere else to put a hatch cover, but for now I think we'll just have to put it in storage.  Maybe one day soon as we're mining deeper in the caverns below the surface we'll need it.

15th Hematite, 224

It's kind of funny that just yesterday I was having everyone start moving things out of the trade depot so that we could move it, since the neighborhoods are expanding into the area and we need the space now.  It's funny because a caravan from Saddle Arabia arrived this afternoon and we had to put a halt to that.

I hate to admit that I asked the guards to stand close watch while they're here, but after what happened to Patina I don't want to take any chances whatsoever.  I'm still undecided how much I should tell their leader.

Of course, that was complicated by yet another band of monkeys romping close to town as the traders began unpacking their goods.


Nevermind the dead werecoati still baking in the sun.

The guards had to go run them off, so I hope it didn't send a bad example to the foreign visitors.  They didn't seem upset as I negotiated some trades at least.

As always, I bought up a lot of food.  In particular, I'm looking forward to seeing what Shortstack does with the saguaro fruit I bought.  I've never tried it before, but it looks interesting.

Related to food, I also bought a few poultry hens in a variety of species.  I didn't realize how much I missed fresh eggs in the morning until I saw the cages of them, so that will be a very welcome addition to our diets.

Lastly, I bought some odds and ends made of steel that we can melt down.  I'm going to have Sterling Silver get right on that.  As I mentioned before, I'll feel a lot better when the guard has good equipment all around, and this will be a nice start toward that.

The best part of it all is that we still have a lot of cut gems leftover for our next visitors.  Trade really is beginning to pick up, much to my relief.

9th Malachite, 224

It, like everything else, was long overdue, but we've finally established a more or less permanent solution for the carpenters that should be much more efficient than their previous workshops.  The sawmill and carpentry shops are now both located near the new and much larger wood pile, which is also now near the craftshops in case anyone needs wood for something small.



Now that that industry is in better shape, I'm probably going to focus on our textiles next.  That's going to be a lot more complicated since I want to finally introduce some dyer's workshops into the production.  Textiles can produce extremely lucrative prices for merchants, so this really should be a high priority.

Maybe after that I can finally get the carpenters working on a barn for all of our seeds and farming tools?

18th Malachite, 224

Up until now we haven't had a dedicated landfill, which has been a bit of a problem as of late.  More and more garbage is accumulating throughout the town, and particularly on the outskirts.  As part of the town beautification initiative, that has to go.  So, I laid aside a stretch of land out of the way where we can dump things and periodically burn it.



This does mean that for the moment some decaying monkey corpses were dragged over to a single spot to roast in the sun, but now at least things will look neat.  Maybe we should get to burning that mound sooner than later.

22nd Malachite, 224

We finally started relocating the trade depot to make room for more houses and a temple.  Especially after recent events, I can see that we really need one in town.  It will help morale for everyone and provide some much needed services.  I know more than once I've had a merchant ask if we had one in town and had to regrettably tell them that we did not.  Soon that won't be the case.

I'm planning on sending a request for a priest back home as soon as I can.  The sooner the better.

In the mean time, we'll have a nice little cul-de-sac under construction so that at long last everyone will have their very own homes.



15th Galena, 224

If we had a temple I'd be praying to every pony, zebra and griffon god right now.



Another monster came.  Another one like that freakish raccoon thing.  It came and broke into the tavern while people were eating.  There... there were families there.  All of the guards were in the guardhouse training.

So many people are hurt.  I don't know if some will survive.  It's... it's indescribable.





Silver Rush is the only thing that saved their lives.  He showed up in time with his pick to kill it.  Jack Pine was there.  He said that Silver ripped its guts out with his pick before repeatedly chopping at its neck until its head was severed.



I think I'm going to erect a statue in his honor.  I think I'm going to give him all of the profits from the next trade caravan.  If I had the authority I'd make him an officer in the confederacy and let him retire.  Those ponies and zebras owe him their lives.



Just a few months ago I was thinking it was almost a comical waste of space to have such a large hospital when we had less than fifty people here.  Yeah, well... now it's almost full.



The adults will recover.  Gunther thinks that even Harbu and Fire Scale will recover fine.  But the foals... why?  Just... gods above and below, why did it attack them?  Why did it maul them so viciously, of all of us?

Smokey Quartz won't be able to walk for months.  Kivuli may never walk again.

I... I just can't describe their wounds.  I'm just going to list them simply for completeness's sake.

Injuries:

Jack Pine – Badly bruised ribs and lung.
Dawn Star – Bad bruises on his throat.
Smokey Quarts – 1 year old foal.  Badly broken leg and mangled hoof.
Kivuli – 10 year old zebra foal.  Mangled hoof.  Crushed shoulder.  Bad bruises.  Bruised spine.
Harbu – Bad bite on his torso, heavy bleeding.
Fire Scale –  Shattered ribs and torn liver.
Honey Pot –  Crushed knee.
Crystal Clear – Crushed knee.

Gunther is only a single griffon.  I tried helping him but I just kept throwing up and freezing up.  He told me to leave so he could work.

We don't have the resources or people to deal with this many cases.  These wounds... we're not equipped to deal with this many...

Everything is falling apart.  It... it's all falling apart.

I thought that life was getting boring.

Gods have mercy on us all.

I can't listen to the foals or their parents crying anymore.

I can't.

22nd Galena, 224

So far only one person has recovered enough to leave the hospital – Harbu.  He's still in serious pain from his bite, but he's ambulatory.

The others are stable but in poor condition.  Gunther informed me that the foals, Honey Pot and Crystal Clear, will need surgery.  We're currently installing surgical tables in the hospital for that purpose now.

I really just don't know what to do with myself right now.  I've barely left my house this past week.  When I did it was to just see the injured in the hospital.

For the moment I've just had the team leaders self manage.  I don't care if no work gets done.  It just doesn't matter right now.

26th Galena, 224

Fire Scale was released today.  She's in extreme pain from her broken ribs and won't be working for a long time to come.  Like I said before: I don't care.

Patina and Rosewood did check in with me today though.  They have kept people working as they're able.  Another house was finished and the guardhouse is now completely enclosed.  We have an addition planned for a second floor, but it can wait.

Everything can wait.

4th Limestone, 224

Honey Pot was released today.  He's barely able to walk with his broken knee, but he'll recover.  The others are making slow progress, but are recovering.

I drafted up a long, long letter to send back home last night.  We need a priest, another doctor and I'm beginning to think an army.

At the very least, I'm going to reward Gunther and Silver Rush as much as I possibly can.  They're genuine heroes.

6th Limestone, 224

Crystal Clear is well enough to leave the hospital now, but Gunther told me that we don't have enough crutches of all things left for him... so I immediately sent the order to Rosewood to have some made.  Yet again, basic neccesities that were overlooked...

Speaking of which, I took some time today to do an audit of our food stocks.  It was boring and menial work, which is exactly what I needed to clear my head some.  We've slowly been depleting our prepared food and drink over the year, but have a mountain of grains stockpiled.  The millers will have a large order waiting for them in the morning, and after we get some flour, the bakers will follow suit.

13th Limestone, 224

Copious amounts of profanity have been scratched out.

As if things weren't bad enough around here, we had an unexpected and unpleasant visit from the Confederacy this afternoon.  Oh, and the ponies showed up just an hour later.



So, picture if you will, two dozen wagons with ponies hauling them, all angry and bickering over where to park their things since there wasn't anywhere to park them.

That is because I'm a blundering idiot and ordered the previous trade depot to be demolished to make space for supplies for houses, but didn't have the new one constructed first.  I thought we'd have twice the time needed before any more traders showed up, but after the devastating attacks we suffered that turned out to be a pure fantasy.

I was made very aware of this when our liaison, a small yet shockingly imposing griffon named Jakob, demanded an audience with me and immediately informed me that the situation here was absolutely unacceptable.  We've been making slower progress than management expected.  Profits aren't as high as they want.  That is on top of the fact that he "has discovered that we're actively sabotaging that by not providing for the merchants that arrive."  Yes, that's because the trade depot is a pile of recycled wood right now.

Naturally, I explained the situation, but he was predictably not very receptive of my excuses.  "How hard is it to keep a trade depot open?"  "Why do you only have five guards in a town of fifty people?"  "Why aren't they on proper patrols?"  "Why are there two foals in the hospital with severe injuries?"  "Why is there blood coating everything in the kitchens?"  "Why are there teeth under the stoves?"  "Why?  "Why?"  "Why!?"

By the end of it I just gave up on giving him excuses.  It's not like I can plausibly deny that things are in extraordinarily poor shape right now.  I've heard a lot of rumors and murmurings of people wanting to leave with the caravan, and I can't blame them.  Why stay here with Shadytrails like it is?  Is it even going to get any better?

I don't know.  I just kind of gave up there.  I know he recognized defeat for what it was, and around then he stopped badgering me, lowered his head and just asked what we needed to fix everything.

A miracle, honestly.

Instead of shooting back a smart answer like that, I told him that we needed more guards, supplies to equip them with, and another doctor.  The sooner the better.  He wrote it down and got up to leave.  The merchants were all furious enough that they opted to just buy what few supplies they needed for us and would be heading off in the morning.  No time for me to negotiate any trading.  All of the supplies I requested last year?  Heading off into the sunrise tomorrow.

I don't feel well.  I think I'm going to just let the town run itself tomorrow.

4th Sandstone, 224

Finally... at long last, I can say that Kivuli and Smokey Quartz are well enough to go home to their parents.  The hospital is empty again after more than a month of Gunther constantly tending to the injured.

I can only hope that my request to through the liaison for another doctor will be answered quickly, and for the guards.

Two attacks in such a short time span?  I know we'll have more soon.  We have to be ready...

...we won't be ready.

[Telgin]

Once more, unto the thread.  I'm going to start bringing the game to a close with this update.  It will probably be at least 3 or 4 more updates before I end it of my own volition, but it's headed that way now at least.



Isolde's Journal - 9th Sandstone, 224

It wasn't an absolute loss I guess.  You can bet that I immediately prioritized completing the trade depot after the verbal lashing I got from Jakob, and it's a good thing that I did.  A few extra members of the trade caravans were much later arriving than their companions, and by the time they got here we had somewhere for them to unload.

It wasn't much.  A tenth of the normal volume we trade, but it was something.  They didn't have much of value that we needed, but just to encourage them to return next year I bought up some metal scrap from them to reuse in other projects in exchange for more jewels.

Maybe that will put a tiny shine on the last few months...

11th Sandstone, 224

Today was a little brighter than the last couple of weeks.  Kivuli turned ten today, and we had a little party for him in the tavern to celebrate it.  The poor thing is still hobbling along after the attack, but he's in good spirits and that gives me a little more enthusiasm myself.

Since he's ten years old, that means he's old enough to start apprenticing somewhere, and although he's still too hurt to do much he expressed an interest in learning metal crafting.  That's something that requires strength and dexterity, which he is sitll regaining, but I can appreciate the desire and agreed that it's a nice profession to aspire to.  Fire Scale agreed too, so soon he'll be learning how to forge equipment from metal.  For now though, he's just going to help out with the smelting work.

That was tempered a little when his aunt, Bahati, wandered out of the party in a trance and settled down in one of the craftshops, excitedly saying that she needed needed supplies to make something great for her nephew.  Just like the others I guess, so I'm not too worried.  I left her to her work and to take whatever she needed.

Lastly, I got a... surprise when I went home tonight.  A letter from Lucky, of all people, expressing her condolences for everything I've had to deal with lately.

To Isolde,

It is with a heavy heart that I write this. It is... A strange feeling I have not felt in a while. A flightful creature without flight, a loving creature with so much stress. If the handwriting has not shown it, it is I, Lucky Lands, who writes to you. Mainly to give condolences that I have not felt comfortable giving in public. Not because of image, but... Because of uncertainty. I hope that our previous rivalries and my previous misdemeanors haven't sullied your opinion of me and my condolences, by extension.

Sincerely,
Lucky Lands, Guardspony and Citizen of Shady trails, Former Logistics Officer of the Mercenary Company 'The Raven's Claw'

I'm a little touched, honestly.  I always figured she at most didn't care about anyone here and at worst actively disliked us.  I haven't gotten many condolences in general... so I'm... well, I'm just happy to hear that someone else cares a little.

Maybe things won't turn out so badly after all.

22nd Sandstone, 224

It took her a long time to perfect it, but I have to admit that Bahati's work is incredible.  She ended up creating an exquisite figurine of Trim Pepperedwhiskies, who was the stallion that founded the Confederacy over two hundred years ago.[/i]



Something like that belongs on display somewhere, and if it were a statue I'd insist on that.  But, it's just a small thing and she made it specifically for Kivuli, who deserves something nice right now.  I hope he likes it!

28th Sandstone, 224

I'm having some second thoughts on this particular design decision, but we're going to have to remove some of the support pillars for the guardhouse to make room for the next home we're constructing.  It's not a safety concern, Patina assures me, but I do wonder if maybe we should have just skipped this house in the neighborhood.



It's going to go to Terracotta, and she's the last one that needed a house so I'm not keen on delaying it further.  I hate that she had to wait this long for it already, and I know she'll be glad to have somewhere to call her own.

11th Timber, 224

Things have been slow again in town, thank goodness, so I decided to do more auditing of our supplies.  The good news is that we've more than rebuilt our stocks of food and have more than a year's worth of supplies stocked up in case of disaster.

The bad news is that the cellar that we're storing it all in is getting kind of dingy...



I've already forwarded requests to Rosewood and Patina to look at cleaning it up and enclosing it in something more permanent.  Wood probably wouldn't last, but stone should.  I'll leave it up to them to decide on how to handle it though.

If Patina and the masons enclose it, then that leaves Rosewood and her team to start working on another project.  We've all been getting by with little more than a bed in our homes, but we've accumulated a lot of things over the years that we need to store.  I think some cabinets, dressers and chests would be a nice addition to everyone's homes.


The dreaded clothing on the floor everywhere problem.

Lastly, I've finally started working on plans to reorganize our metalcrafting industry.  Now that Kivuli is going to be working with them, it seems like a good time to restructure everything.  We can move all of the relevant tools and supplies closer together and make sure that in particular they always have fuel nearby.

Maybe we'll finally have enough metal to work with soon to make it all worth it.

9th Moonstone, 224

One thing I can say about Rosewood is that she works fast.  We've already completed and installed cabinets and chests in everyone's houses, free of charge.  I'm much happier with my own arrangements now, so I can imagine everyone else is too.

We've also finished a few spare houses, which will be good news to any new arrivals that the confederacy sends to us.  If they do...

17th Moonstone, 224

Things continue to look up a tiny bit.  Luster Dust gave birth to her son today, which is probably the largest colt I've ever seen at birth, especially for a pegasus!


I don't know what the heck happened, but the game thinks he's 3 months old.  Maybe related to me poofing him into a pony when he was born a griffon?

They named him Topaz Sparkles, which is appropriate considering their professions and his vibrant orange coat.  I do worry a little for any children born in Shadytrails these days, but things have been quiet lately.  That's some relief.

About the extent of any other excitement was the arrival of a griffon caravan this afternoon.  I'm already eying some of the steel items they've got up for trade, and the fresh meat.  All we really have around here is badgers and fish... and badgers don't taste too good.

In particular, I have to wonder what the candied parasprites taste like?



18th Opal, 224

In preparation for our next visitors looking to trade, I've had the miners digging around in the deep cavern they discovered, and already they've pulled up quite a load of gems waiting to be cut and polished.  I can smell the bits already!

We also have a veritable mountain of galena lying around, which supposedly can be smelted into lead.  Lead isn't too valuable, but it would give the metalcrafters something to do and make our exports look a little more interesting.  What should we make with it though?  Barrels?

I'll have to think on that some.

Also in preparation for more visitors, I've instituted a strick no-animals-in-the-tavern policy starting today.  For some reason some of the birds got in there and got into a fight, leaving feathers everywhere and unhappy people everwhere else.


Time to put them in a pasture.

22nd Opal, 224

Some of the statues I commissioned have been completed, and we're starting to put them up around town to liven things up a little.  I was really impressed with the statue of Rosewood that Freija made, and the one of Fargo that Terracotta made.



I was hoping they'd have one of Silver Rush or Gunther done by now, but Freija said that she's been trying to think up some inspiration for them first.  I... can understand that artists need their time, but we can't wait forever on that.  Hopefully soon, before other jobs start taking priority.

4th Obsidian, 224

We had yet another little one added to our town today, when Bahati gave birth to her son Jasiri this morning.  He's a strong and vocal little colt, and I know she and her husband are going to have their work cut out for them.

The timing of his birth is appropriate though, since I was just planning out space for the temple at the end of the new neighborhood.  I'm that the families here would appreciate some spiritual support, and I know I could use some lately, but it does bring up a question.

Well, the question of course is whether or not we'll need several temples?  Trying to accomodate ponies, zebras and griffons all in one temple seems like it's going to be... risky, to say the least.  We could build three, but they'd all need equal space and resources, else it looks like we're favoring one over the other.

What will we do?  For now I guess we'll have to share between the religions and hope for the best.  We don't have a priest right now regardless, so for the moment it's going to be private worship anyway.


Time to move the plot along with bad ideas.  It's fitting in a way though, so whatever.

6th Obsidian, 224

Like she did on some nights where she needed to clear her head, Isolde decided to take the opportunity to fish in the dark.  Sometimes she'd get a bite of something a little different at night than the day, but nothing tonight.  Oh well, that's how it was sometimes.  Maybe even most of the time this time of year.  The river didn't freeze over like the static pools nearby, but it got cold enough that there weren't many fish around.

Isolde decided to pack up her things and head home a bit early.  She was getting sleepy, there weren't any fish biting and her head was clear enough.

On the way back to her house, she had to detour through the new neighborhood under construction.  The spot for the temple looked almost painfully bare now, but soon there would be enough wood and stone being put up that any priest would be proud to serve in it.  The homes lining the streets nearby looked equally fitting for a high end neighborhood back home, but here everyone was on the same level.  There weren't any gated communities or nobles' mansions set aside from the others.  Even her own home, larger than the others mostly for the need of an office, was accessible to anyone that needed her.  She was proud to be in charge of this town, even with the little hiccups lately.

She could have flown home, but opted not to.  Even with half of a wing missing she could fly reasonably well.  It was tiring and difficult to fly straight now, but she could do it.  The real reason she chose to walk back however, was so that she could admire the new work in town once more before bed.  The homes were all so gorgeous.  Rosewood and her teams did such an excellent job on them.  The doors were all framed in hoof carved molding.  Each home had its own intricately forged lamp for the porch, and the windows were all framed with equally intricate woodwork around them.  Truly, nobody could say that this was an unpleasant looking place to live.  And right in the middle of the homes was a new park for everyone to take leisure time in.

She'd seen the children playing in the park already, and much to their parents' displeasure, on the new statues.  Ah, now those were fine additions to town too.  The work on them all was incredible.  Especially Rosewood and Fargo's statues.  They were almost lifelike.  But... something was amiss.

Isolde stopped halfway down the street and looked toward the center of the park.  When had the masons placed a fifth statue there?  To her knowledge they weren't even working on more, and she didn't recognize it.  It... looked like some kind of winged snake thing.  With arms and legs too.  Some kind of dragon maybe?  An interesting choice.  She diverted from her path and started strolling that way when movement caught the corner of her eye.  She glanced back to the statue of Fargo, which was motionlessly staring at her.  Weird.  Even more weird... was it always facing this way?  It was kind of strange to point it inward toward the park.  It should be facing out toward the streets, probably.

She brushed it off and turned back toward the center statue, which... was now also facing her.  What?  Was this some kind of joke or prank?  Did the masons set the statues up on turntables to play a prank on her?  She knew people in town thought she'd lost her marbles after the ghost attacked her, but this was an unexpected and unprecedented level to take a joke...

The central statue winked at her.

The griffoness froze in place and stared long and hard at it.  No.  No, it was just dark and her eyes were playing tricks on her.  They'd all been facing inward and toward her the entire time, and statues didn't move.

All the same, she could ask the masons about the new statue in the morning.  Yeah... she was going home now.  Going home to lock her doors.

She spun around and let out a little shriek as she bumped into Rosewood's statue.  The oversized stone pony stood simply on the grass in front of her.  Motionless and with a vacant smile on its face.

Without a thought, she whirled around again and started running in the opposite direction.  This wasn't funny anymore.  She didn't know what was going on, and didn't care.  She just wanted to be away from this place!

Halfway to the new statue, she threw on the brakes and skidded to a halt as it moved.  The statue casually stepped off of its pedestal, and, after a second, snapped back into place with a grin on its face.

Isolde shrieked again, turned toward the road and bolted with all of her strength.  She blinked and opened her eyes just in time to avoid barreling straight into the statue of the freaky snake thing.  In an instant she screamed and let instinct take over.  She beat her wings and lifted into the air with a bound that cleared the statue and propelled her out of the garden.

Finally she was free of this madness!  She looked back to confirm that all of the statues were still on the ground and not following her, but one is missing.  Which was it?  From here she couldn't tell, and didn't care.  They couldn't get her up here!  She turned away to fly toward her home or anywhere other than outside with these horrible moving statues.  The blur of moving marble came an instant before something cold and impossibly strong grabbed her by the forelimbs.  Fargo's statue pulled her in close and issued an ear splitting howl.  Cold, black eyes stared back behind the gaping beak as the two tumbled back toward the ground, hopelessly too heavy for her to keep them aloft with her strength alone.

Time dragged on like waiting for ice to melt and Isolde's scream of terror joined the statue's otherworldly cry.  The ground drew closer... and closer...

Fargo's statue exploded on impact and threw her down the road.  She slid and tumbled half a block before coming to a shuddering, bundled up heap.  Too overcome with fear to even stand and move, Isolde just screamed and covered her head, waiting for another statue to grab her and do what it would.  She was powerless to stop this!

A faint, ethereal feminine giggle echoed through the empty streets.

At length, and after not being accosted by anything further, Isolde peeked up.  Nothing and nobody was around.  Slowly, she propped up enough to look down the street, and sure enough, the statues were all in place, just like they were supposed to be.  Just four of them.  The new statue wasn't there.  Had it ever been there?

"No squealing..." the voice whispered from nowhere.

Isolde shot up and spun in a little circle.  She was alone!

"...remember!  It's all in your head..."

"What?  Who's there!?" Isolde demanded.  She looked around, but nobody and nothing was around.  It was just an empty street, like it was supposed to be!  The bruises on her legs and sides sure were there though!  She didn't imagine that!  She didn't!

Movement from several nearby houses caught her ears, and sure enough, doors popped open to dislodge confused and frightened ponies.

Oh gods and goddesses, here she went again.  She was going to have to explain what she'd just seen, and nobody would believe her!

They wouldn't believe her, but it was true.  She... she didn't imagine that!

It's all in your head...

...did she?

[Telgin]

Isolde's Journal - 9th Obsidian, 224

I didn't tell everyone what I saw.  They'd think I was completely insane for certain, and I wouldn't blame them.  I'm honestly no longer sure if I'm not insane.  I haven't seen anything for three days now, so... I... you know, I just don't know.  I'm trying not to think about it.

Instead, I'm trying to focus on the tangible, verifiable things that have and are happening.  For starters, Iron Lever and Vanilla Extract had their third foal today: a little blue and silver colt they named Silver Thread.  It seems that a lot of mares are having foals lately, and while I'm happy for them all, I continue to wonder if this is a safe place for them.  No monsters have shown up recently, but that doesn't mean they won't soon.  I still feel anxious in my office when I look out of the window, wondering if I'll see something awful looking back at me.

But... enough of that.  It might sound silly to think that building a temple here and getting a priest is going to solve all of our problems, but construction on it has gone a very long way in only a few days.  I'm looking forward to seeing it completed, but the architects have done an excellent job designing it.



17th Obsidian, 224

Okay, this isn't funny anymore.



I was checking through our stocks after I heard that we'd smelted up a large amount of lead so that I could decide what to do with it, when I discovered a very unflattering statue of myself in the warehouse.  Rats?  Seriously?  Who'd sculpt me skittering away from a bunch of rats?!

When I found Freija I asked her about it, and she said she had no idea who made it.  Nobody does.  I swear someone is trying to mess with me, but for the life of me I don't know who or why.  I didn't tell anyone about the statue craziness, but this sure seems related.  There are only three people in town who can sculpt this well, so that doesn't leave many options.  I wouldn't peg it on any of them though...

Ugh.  Whatever.  Just... whatever.  I told them to stow it in the back of the warehouse under a tarp until we figure out what to do with it.

Pfft.  At least we can sell some of the other statues they've made.  I think I'm going to get the metal workers to start on some barrels and cages with the lead we have.  Lead isn't much use for anything else, and it'll give us some bits in exchange.  We'll see.

1st Granite, 225

The new year is finally here, and with it comes a bit of news.

First, the temple is largely complete now.  It's structurally finished, but needs furnishing and for a priest to arrive.  I've been hoping to see one by now, but it's only been a few months.  It takes time for someone to travel out here from just about anywhere, so I'm not worried yet.

But, the second bit of news is a little less encouraging...



People got to talking around town about how we needed to formalize our political structure some, and by the Confederacy's laws we do need a mayor.  That wasn't much of a shock.  I was kind of hoping that, you know, it would be me that was elected mayor, but that's not what happened.

I know Bahati is well liked throughout town, but she doesn't have any political experience or really anything relevant to her elected position.  You... you'd think that people would pick the one person in town who knew how to be the mayor to be the mayor, but no, it came down to a popularity contest.  I guess I'm not the most popular person in town anymore, if I ever was.

Well, whatever.  I seem to be saying that a lot lately, but whatever.  I can't do anything about it and being upset isn't going to change anything.  I'm not yet sure what this is going to mean about my position.  Not much, I don't think.  I'll still be the pencil pusher who decides what work gets done, when and where, but I won't be the face of town anymore.  I guess nobody wants to meet with the crazy griffon with a half-missing wing.

Whatever.

She's going to have to wait for an office if she thinks she's getting one right away.  There's a lot to do around town that's more important than building a second office for someone whose job is largely irrelevant.  I'm not giving up my office after building this town.

...gods, that sounded petty.  I shouldn't be so bent out of shape about this.  It's... not that big of a deal.  Really, it isn't.  She can even share my office if she needs it for a meeting I guess.

Some text is scribbled and scratched out.

I didn't used to be this way.  ...what's happening to me?

5th Granite, 225

I'm starting to think that maybe the insane things I've seen aren't entirely restricted to me.  Case in point: Forward March.

Just as the drills for the day were ending, he marched out of the guardhouse and off to one of the craftshops to start working on something.  He was barely responsive and in a trance like state, just like the others that have been claimed.  Is he seeing something like I did?  The others have had mixed reports on how they felt when this happened.

Maybe there isn't really some malevolent force here out to get me.  Maybe it's just the same strange magic interacting with me differently?  I don't know.  I'll worry about it later.

I do have something slightly more upbeat to report though,and that's the fact that Purity has officially started her apprenticeship under Gunther today.  She said she'd wanted to help out in the hospital for a while now, but things were slow there and Gunther can be a bit intimidating.  The two talked it over today and agreed that she should join.  It'll give both of them something to do, and if disaster strikes again, gods forbid, she'll be able to help him.

13th Granite, 225

It took him over a week, but Forward March finished the amulet he was working on today.



Once more, I can't say I really care for the imagery on it, and he can't explain why he chose it, but it's an absolutely stunningly well made piece of craftsmanship.  Like some of the other crazy things made here I don't know what to do with it, so for now I'm letting him keep it with the provision that it will probably go on display somewhere at some point.

Speaking of crazy things made here, I did get a chance to get rid of that statue today.  Maybe some would say I'm crazy for selling a disrepsectful image of myself so that it will end up in some far away town where others can laugh at me, but I don't care.  It's gone and we got a lot of trade goods in return for it and some of the lead crafts.  It also didn't have my name on it so nobody will know anyway.

That is to say, we received a zebra caravan today and traded a fair bit with them.  In exchange for the statues, a few cut gems and some lead barrels and cages, we got a load of fresh steel, steel scrap to recycle and some more cloth.  I probably should get to work on the clothing industry again, but it keeps getting pushed down the list.  At least Lattice Frame and the others are handling thier job well with what they have.

14th Granite, 225

It took a bit longer to perform the finishing work on it than I expected or hoped, but the temple is officially ready for use today.



There's a spacious sanctuary in the front with room for at least fifty people, and room for a priest or couple in the back, plus a study for them.  It isn't gilded with gaudy gold dripping everywhere, but the fine woodwork and marble statues add a lot to the decor I think.  I'm not exactly an interior decorator, but I can appreciate well done work when I see it.

21st Granite, 225

So, I stopped dragging my feet about it and finally asked the carpenters to start working on a town hall so that Bahati or whatever mayors come will have somewhere to hold meetings.  It's not enormous or ornate, but I think it's plenty large enough.



It will be when it's finished anyway.  It's probably going to take another month to complete it and get it furnished, but if Bahati has to meet with anyone in the meantime I guess she'll just have to use my office when I'm not here.  That's fine...

Anyway, I'm already planning our next big project, and that's a very, very long overdue barn for the farmers.  They've needed somewhere to store their seeds forever, and I know having somewhere indoors to process the grains they harvest and to milk the animals we have will be well received for the cold winter months.

I think I'm going to go tell Tunda and the others over dinner tonight.  I hope they're excited about it!

17th Slate, 225

Yet another foal was born today!  Sweet Birch and Green Acres had a little unicorn colt today, who was born a large and healthy little foal that they named Orange Leaves.  He's so cute and I couldn't help but t take in the infectious happiness from the family.

Fortunately, we're not exactly in the middle of the planting season right now, so his parents have plenty of time to take off to bond with him.

1st Felsite, 225

Well, it took long enough, but we finally got some fresh faces around here from back home.  The new arrivals showed up around lunch time today, and I took census of them all as we ate lunch together:

A pegasus mare guard named Brass Scabbard and her husband,
An earth pony stallion miner named Rubble Pile and their daughter,
A pegasus filly named Emerald Facets,
A zebra mare priestess named Faraja and her husband,
An earth pony stallion carpenter named Pumpkin Ash,
A zebra stallion armorer named Shaba and his wife,
An earth pony mare dyer named Palette Swap and their daughter (they're actually Harbuu's parents too!),
A pegasus zony filly named Nadia

I'm particularly happy to see the new guard and the priest, but the others are welcome additions too.  I know that Lattice Frame will be glad to see a dyer in town to make her work really shine, and we've all felt the loss of Alpine Ash, which Pumpkin Ash will help to make up for.

I wish we had the steel to really put Shaba to work, but for a while yet he's going to just help the others make trinkets out of lead to sell.

Lastly, we did get the new town hall completed today, so they didn't have to walk up to a half complete building in the middle of town at least.



14th Felsite, 225

As I promised, today we're going to start working on a barn and better farmer's workshops.  As the first step to that, I went to take stock of our supplies and... wow.



As it stands we have several years worth of food stocked up.  Previously I've been reluctant to sell off our excess just in case we had a crop failure, but right now we just about don't have anywhere to put it.  I think I'm going to have most of the grains milled so we can sell some flour to the next caravan.  It should turn a large profit and make space for fresh food to be harvested next season.

14th Hematite, 225

I was hoping that our barn would be done by now, but it isn't completely enclosed in time for our latest guests to arrive.  Still, it isn't like horses are going to fly above it to notice that the roof is missing, even if they care about it at all.

To clarify, we had another caravan of horses from Saddle Arabia arrive in town today, and once again, I asked the guards to keep a close watch on both them and Patina.  I don't want to risk another incident of any kind, even if so far we've been comparatively lucky with that.  In all probability the people after her won't try the same trick twice anyway.

Regardless, today was an extraordinarily productive day trading!  Between the gems, lead products and flour produced in Shadytrails, we were able to get thousands of bits worth of fresh steel, which remains our beings shortage and probably will for some time.  Surprisingly, we were also completely out of cut wood, so while Jack went off to deal with that I bought up everything the caravan brought with them along with some sand.  It'll go a ways toward finishing the next batch of windows, but won't cover it completely.

[Telgin]

Some plot development.



15th Hematite, 225

The day after the Saddle Arabians arrived in town, Isolde was on her way home early.  Ever since her encounter with the animate statues she tried to get home before dark, and at least before all activity outside ceased completely.  Shadytrails was slowing down for the day, but a few ponies and zebras were still wandering the streets to or from the tavern to get something to eat before heading home.  A perfect time to get home so nothing could catch her out alone and vulnerable.  It wasn't like she had anything to do anyway.  She'd handled the town's official trading the day before and the head of the caravan hadn't expressed any interest in meeting with anyone in town, and if she did it would be with Bahati now anyway.  Yeah, it was going to be a slow and boring night, which was just fine...

To her surprise, she was met at her door by one of the large equines.  The charcoal coated mare wore lavish blue robes, and had at least two golden bands on each leg.  Judging by her white mane and tired look, she must have been getting up in years.  The caravan head mare?  Hopefully this wasn't about some kind of problem in town.  ...and hopefully she didn't need a guard.  She cleared her throat and waved at the mare.  "Hello."

The horse tossed her mane and met her eyes.  "Good evening.  Are you Miss Hookbill?"

"I am.  Is there something I can help you with?"

"Perhaps.  May we speak in private for a short while?"  A small smile appeared on her face.  "I've barely had an opportunity to meet the leader of Shadytrails and I was hoping we could discuss our future working together?"

...that was timely.  Isolde smiled back.  "I'm more than happy to speak with you, but if you're looking for the mayor, that's the zebra mare Bahati.  She's probably the closest thing we have to a leader in town..."

The mare waved a hoof.  "Oh, but you're the one who must understand the finances.  You did handle all of the negotiating with Taja yesterday, didn't you?"

"That's true.  If you wanted to discuss a trade agreement or something of a similar nature then I'd be happy to talk with you."

"Wonderful!  That's what I was hoping to hear.  If we may?"  She pointed toward the door.

Isolde unlocked the entrance and strode inside.  "Absolutely, right this way.  My office is right through here."  On the way to her office, she said, "I'm sorry, I never caught your name."

"Sanaa," she answered while squeezing through the small doorway.  "I see you must not have been expecting large company."

"Sorry about that... we built the public facilities to accommodate everyone as much as possible, but the thought didn't cross my mind until..."

Sanaa smirked and chuckled.  "Just now?"

Isolde nodded and directed her toward the right door from the waiting area.  "So sorry about that... there's plenty more room inside."  She was going to have to ask Rosewood about expanding the doorway some now.  What an example to set for a visitor!

"Don't fret over it.  This is hardly the first time this has happened and I'm sure it won't be the last."

She'd be the one who decided whether or not to fret over a faux pas, but fair enough, she'd drop it for now.  Isolde led Sanaa into her office and presented her with the largest chair available, which was just barely enough for the oversized mare to squeeze into.  "Sorry again about the accommodations.  We'll have to work on all of this before you return."

Sanaa shook her head.  "As I said, don't breathe another word over it.  I've found Shadytrails to be a lovely and welcoming place so far, and I wouldn't dream of letting something like this tarnish that."

"I'm glad to hear that, really," Isolde replied.  She took a seat across from the horse.  "So, what exactly did you want to discuss with me today?  Did you have any special requests for us to produce for next year?  Anything you were looking to try selling to us instead?"

"I had a few things in mind, yes," Sanaa said.  She tossed her mane and adopted a wistful smile.  "First, I'd ask you for the recipe for that heavenly strawberry wine you serve in the tavern, but I imagine that's something only the brewers might know.  I would however be quite interested in buying some from you.  As much as you can spare now and as much as you can produce for next year.  I just know everyone back home would love it as much as I did."

Isolde ran the numbers in her head.  They'd produced a great excess of strawberries this year, so it stood to reason that they'd have plenty for next year.  "Absolutely, that's something we'd be happy to do.  I'll have to speak with Shortstack to see how much we have to spare for this year, but absolutely."  She started looking for a notepad and asked, "Anything else?"

"Well, the gems I've seen look absolutely exquisite."  Sanaa brushed the rings on a leg.  "Do you have any jewelers in town that might be able to produce jewelry for us to trade back home?  Anything in silver or gold would fetch a princely sum."

Jewelry?  That sounded profitable indeed.  "Did you have any specific..."  Isolde's voice trailed off as something caught her eye in the room beyond.  Funny, she thought she'd closed the door.

"...is something wrong?" Sanaa asked.  She glanced back.

"Nothing.  Nothing, sorry.  I must have just seen a bird through the window."  She cleared her throat and asked, "Did you have any specific requests?  We can make all kinds of things."

Sanaa tapped the ring on her leg.  "Oh, just about anything would do, but remember to size it appropriately this time!"

Isolde chuckled nervously.  Right, she wasn't going to screw that- there it went again!  Something definitely inside of her home!

Sanaa rapped her hoof on the table.  "Miss Hookbill, is something wrong?  You look positively nervous."

The griffoness stood and circled around the desk slowly.  "Just... stay here a moment.  I thought I saw something."  She headed into the back room cautiously, hoping her eyes were just playing tricks on her.  She peeked around the corner and looked around.  Nothing.

Behind her, Sanaa groaned.  "Miss Hookbill, I do have a schedule to keep.  If you're going to go chasing ghosts, I'll just get on with my business."

What?  No!  "Wait, Miss Sanaa, we can..."  As she turned back, she found her office empty.  No hoofsteps sounded, and there was no way such a large mare could have slipped out that quickly and silently.  She scurried back into the room and looked around.  Nothing!  She hurried out of the front door and searched up and down the street.  Nobody.  What in the world...?

Isolde lifted into the air and beat her wings unevenly to circle around her house.  There was no sight of any horses around.  Nor any ponies, zebras or griffons.  What...?  Where was everyone?

She set down near the tavern, far, far away from the statues, and rushed inside.  Dead silence.  Nobody.  This wasn't possible.  She searched the upper level quickly and ducked down into the cellar, but nobody was there.  Nobody, and no sound.

In a mild panic, she rushed back out into the street.  "Hello!?  Is anyone here!?"

A faint giggle sounded from down the road.  She snapped her head that way, but saw nothing!  There was nobody here!

"Did everyone forget you?"  That was her own voice, but she didn't say anything!

"What!?"

"Did they forget you and leave you behind?"

She spun in a little circle.  "Everyone was here just a minute ago!"

"But they're gone now.  Did they move on?  They must have.  They don't need you anymore.  Who'd want to stay with a crazy griffon anyway?"

Isolde kept spinning, to the point that she almost lost her balance.  "I'm not crazy!  Where are you?  What do you want with me!?"

"You loved them.  You needed them.  You thought they loved you, but now they're gone and you're alone.  What will you do now?"

"Answer me!  I'm not crazy!"

"Not crazy?  Who's talking to themselves?"

A different feminine voice whispered in her ear, "It's all in your head..."


Isolde bolted upright and found herself surrounded by people.  She was lying in the street... near the tavern.

Gunther reached down and took her claw.  "Isolde, are you alright?  You blacked out just now.  You've been walking around and talking to yourself, then just blacked out!"

She rolled over onto her belly and placed her face in her claws.  Was she alright?  "I don't know..." she whimpered.

...she wasn't just imagining all of this.  She wasn't!  But... but gods... what was happening to her?

She didn't resist as Gunther lifted her, and with help, started taking her back to the hospital.  "I'm not crazy..." she pleaded to no one.  "I'm not..."

[Personal Gamer]

If you're wondering, I'm busy with fimfic editing (5 to be exact, including one that updates twice a week) and that whole engineering major thing. Actually, very, very busy with the engineering major thing. I should've gotten the shadytrails fimfiction caught up during the summer, since there's not a lot scenes or journals to organize at this stage.

I'll get cracking again by winter break at the latest, and possibly sooner, over thanksgiving. Maybe drum up some traffic. Though I'll probably make some supporting scenes and journals to flesh it out, if I can.

If you need me to play another character (Lattice or otherwise), I can do that. Just shoot me an email or PM (The latter will shoot me an email anyways if it's a bay12 pm, and I'm on fimfiction a lot and thus will quickly notice a message there). I'm reluctant to do anything too ambitious with Lattice, though, without first piecing together a plausible event sequence to (retroactively) insert to have it make sense (while still working with the existing isolde journals), since she's more-or-less hidden herself away in her house.

P.S You have brought great shame upon your family for pulling the discord card. 

[Telgin]

Hmm, I wonder if I should bother writing OOC things in green anymore.  If the post is purely OOC I guess it doesn't matter.

Anyway, if you actively want to participate then I'm happy for you to do so however you want, but don't feel obligated to in any sense.  As I've said or implied a few times, I know the game is dead and don't expect anyone to contribute anymore.  I closed registrations since new players would be lost and have almost nothing to do anyway, and I'm planning to end the game completely in another 2-3 updates.  I don't have all of the details nailed down and in game events could always alter that, but that's the plan.

I am, as always, very thankful and happy if you do continue to put this on FiMFiction though.

P.S You have brought great shame upon your family for pulling the discord card.

While it brings great shame to my family anyway for somewhat unrelated reasons, don't get too ahead of yourself here.  Things aren't completely like they appear, which should be much more evident in the next update.

[Telgin]

Just one more update after this one...



Isolde's Journal - 16th Hematite, 225

Sanaa was a complete figment of my imagination.  Or... something.  What I've been experiencing is much too real to just be imagined.  I don't think I'm going insane for minutes at a time months apart.  It just doesn't add up, and Gunther agrees with me.  It's a small comfort to know that something else has to be to blame.

I think it's the strange magic causing people to lose their senses and make their strange works of art.  It has to be something similar to that, doesn't it?  It must!  But we have no one versed enough in magic to even consult on the issue, so for now I just have to believe what I can.

Regardless, today is a new day and I'm going to put what happened behind me, whether everyone else does or not.

Today, I'm going to take a cue from my wild imagination and we're going to start producing some jewelry to sell to the caravans.  After consulting Sterling Silver, I've discovered that we have more than two dozen bars of silver sitting around, collecting dust.  Smelting the galena to get at the lead allowed them to recover a lot of the silver, and I'd completely forgotten about it.

Well, silver is good bits to anyone, surely, so whatever we make will be worth a lot I'm certain.  Maybe we can even have the jewelers add some gems to the pieces to get even more bang for our bits?  Time will tell.

21 Hematite, 225

While I was out checking up on the new jewelry orders, I bumped into poor Fizzy Elixir out near the warehouse, who was absolutely overcome with fear!


Yeah, it's about time I did something about the assassin body lying in the stockpile next to the butcher's shop... been upsetting people for years.

It took me a good minute to calm him down to figure out what happened, by which point someone had gone to fetch his parents.  When he did calm down some, he could barely remember what it was that scared him in the first place.  He said he saw something in the woods, but couldn't even remember what it was, and definitely couldn't remember what scared him so badly.

It's worrisome, but he's back with his parents in the tavern now and seems fine.  Did he see something like I did?  I wish he and I knew...

5th Malachite, 225

It's far overdue, but the carpenters put the final touches on the roof of the new barn today, which is officially complete and ready for use, despite the fact that the farmers have been storing seeds in it for more than a week already.



The indoor workshops will be welcome too during the winter, so the farmers can milk the animals and process wheat out of the cold wind.  I've been thinking about expanding our farming operation in general soon, but so far we're producing vast excess of what we need anyway and I don't know for sure if it's profitable enough to justify sending a request back home for more farm hands.

Well, in the event that we do need more in the future, we definitely have the capacity now.

9th Malachite, 225

Oh... gods...



Two theories on what happened here:

1. Jack walked over a melting pool of water.  I've been worried this would happen for a long time, but I think the pools were all thawed long ago.
2. He dodged a falling log into the water and drowned.  This seems more likely because I just sent the wood cutters to chop wood nearby.  That's what I'm going with.

There has been a terrible accident.  Just... terrible.

We've been running critically low on wood lately, especially since the metal workers have cranked up production, so I asked the wood cutters to clearcut some of the trees down south.  Jack was the only one available, so he went off to take care of it on his own.

Nobody was around to see it, so we can only speculate... but it looks like the tree he cut fell in such a way that when he tried to get out of the way, he rolled down the hill and landed in the pond below.  He must have injured himself badly in the fall or knocked himself unconscious, since he never made it back out of the pond.

I feel intensly unwell.  Nauseated.

I'm not going to say that Jack was a close friend that I spent a lot of time with.  He was a loner and rarely did much with anyone else, but he's been out here just as long as I have and was absolutely one of the instrumental people in building this town.  I did consider him a friend, whether he reciprocated, and it... really hurts to know he's gone like this.  Especially over something so trivial.

We're currently working on how we're going to retrieve his body.  Gods... it feels wrong to even write that down.

I'll write more when we've figured out what we're going to do.

At least we have a priest now...

10th Malachite, 225

Rosewood took Jack's death hard too, as everyone has.  To commemorate his life and contributions to Shadytrails, she created an absolutely magnificent casket to inter him in.



It's little consolation, but the least we can do.

Frustratingly, there is little else we can do at this very moment.  From the looks of things, draining the pond by digging is impractical, so Iron Lever suggested that we build a pump to drain the water out, like some strip miners do.  It's going to take time, but I refuse to leave Jack's remains in the pond and merely place a memorial to him somewhere.

11th Malachite, 225

Something disturbing has occurred today.

While we were working to start constructing the pump to drain the pond, some of the workers encountered a bizarre creature in the woods.  From the description that they gave, it appeared to be watching them work.



Some perspective, for those who did not read Duskfields, and in particular, the overly long and depressing side story I wrote for it:

In this universe, not all draconequuses are like Discord.  Discord is the equivalent of an alicorn to them, and there are mundane draconequuses that are roughly the size of a pony and with magical power roughly akin to a unicorn's.  This is one of these draconequuses, not a towering creature of fearsome magical prowess.

When they encountered it, everything broke into chaos.  Freija told me that when it noticed she had seen it, it immediately panicked and tried to fly away.  Concerned for what it might have been doing, she gave chase, at which point it cast a spell on her that took all of her strength and dropped her in a heap on the ground.



Unfortunately for the creature, it flew toward Shadytrails and encountered the guard.  Shooting Star was on a regular patrol, and when she saw the thing flying for town, she took aim.  It raised a claw to channel a spell.  She shot.



Despite the horrific wound Shooting Star inflicted upon it, the creature wasn't dead.  I arrived just as Fargo was aiming to behead it with his halberd, and put a halt to it.

Why?

Because I recognized it.

This... this was the thing that I'd seen in one of my episodes.  The time with the statues?  I saw this creature as one of those statues!  It clearly had magical powers, and so many things began to fall into place.  It was responsible for everything that had happened to me.  Everything!

I couldn't let them kill it.  I had to know what it was and why it had done the things it did.  And if there were more like it that posed a threat to us.

So, instead, I sent word for Gunther to come and take it back to town and do whatever he could to keep it alive.

He told me just now that, for starters, it's a "her" and not an "it", and that she is unsurprisingly severely injured.  He was able to remove the bolt from her jaw, but the bolt knocked out four of her teeth, severed an artery and may have cut a nerve.  She lost a lot of blood and hasn't regained consciousness yet, but past a possible concussion he doesn't think she has any brain damage.  She may have broken more in the fall, but he can't tell for sure.

I guess when she wakes up we'll find out if she's just a dangerous animal of some kind, or intelligent enough to explain herself.  I'm anxious to find out what excuse she can have for tormenting me like she has... and if I'm honest, not too sorry to hear that she's hurt like this.  I'm never getting the half of my wing back that she took.  I know that was her.  It had to be.

...and of course, just as the rumor mill around town has asked, what am I going to do with her if she does wake up?  Just let her go so she can cause more trouble?  Execute her?

I don't know.  I'll worry about that later.

13th Malachite, 225

Spoiler: "She wakes up" (click to show/hide)

Since nobody knew just what the thing was capable of, Isolde decided against her better judgment to leave it in the hospital and just institute a permanent guard of two in the cramped hospital room plus two more in the hallway outside.  Barring some incredible magical prowess, she wasn't going to escape, and Gunther had assured Isolde that in her condition such a thing seemed remote even if she knew the needed spells.

From his description of her wounds, Isolde feared that she wouldn't ever wake up at all and would slip into a permanent coma and die, but to her surprise someone knocked at her door two days later to let her know that the creature was stirring.

She'd wasted no time in getting to the hospital, and was now standing in the painfully small room with Gunther, Kiume, Forward March and her.  Maybe thirty tense minutes passed as the serpentine, winged, clawed and hooved thing twitched and whimpered on her bed.

At long last, she cracked her eyes.  Her first sounds were incoherent gibberish, but before long she managed to piece together a sentence in Equestrian.  "Where... am... I?"

"Shadytrails," Isolde answered right away, pleased both to know that the creature was sapient and able to speak, and to inform her that she was in their city.

The creature blinked and held a hand to her head.  "What...?  Shady... where?"

Isolde folded her arms and cleared her throat.  "Shadytrails.  I'm surprised you don't know, considering how long you've been here and attacking us."

"...huh?"  She looked over to Isolde and blinked a few times.  "I haven't..."  She trailed off.  Her eyes widened.

She screamed.

Her scream cut out abruptly as she opened her injured jaw too far and transitioned to a gurgling gasp.  She shrieked and squealed again, thrashing around on her bed and tumbling to the floor.

Isolde cursed herself for not having the thing restrained, but Gunther said it would be at odds with her recovering.  Recover better or make sure she didn't escape?  Yes, she'd made a poor choice here.  "Restrain her!"

Gunther and Forward March scrabbled back to block the door while Kiume went after her.  She whined again and tried to jump through the window, but didn't expect it to be covered in clear glass.  With a startled shriek she bounced off of the glass, fell backward and flipped over just in time for the massive zebra stallion to press his weight down on her.

Sparks and flecks of green magic shot from her hands, but whatever spells she tried to cast sputtered and fizzled out ineffectually.  Kiume growled and pressed harder.  "If another spell you try to cast, it will be your last!"

If she had a response, it was lost in desperate chokes and coughs.

"You're crushing her lungs..." Gunther warned.

Isolde stepped forward and pulled at Kiume's shoulder.  "That's enough, ease up."

He snorted and complied, rising up a little.  Immediately their prisoner gasped, hacked and coughed for air.  "Help!" she cried between wheezes.  "Please!"

This wasn't getting them anywhere.  Isolde knelt beside her and held up a claw.  "Calm down, please.  I want to talk to you.  I know you're scared, but that's all I want to do."

"No, no, no!" she cried, kicking feebly at Kiume's chest.

This really wasn't getting them anywhere.  "Let her up," Isolde told Kiume.

He cut her a displeased glance.  "And when she runs again?  What then?"

"Let me worry about that.  Come on, let her up.  She can't get out."

Kiume grunted, frowned down at his captive, and stepped back.

Immediately she sat up and kicked her hooves to crawl back against the wall.  She whined and dove to the side, where she crawled under the hospital bed and curled into a ball.  "Don't kill me... please don't kill me..."

Isolde laid down on the floor so she could get eye-to-eye with her.  "I just want to talk."

"Wh-what about?  Why?"  She flattened her bat-like wings against her body and whimpered.  "Don't cut my wings off... don't hurt me... I'm begging you..."

That was an oddly specific thing to say, and removed all doubt that she was the one responsible.  "Before we talk about anyone doing anything to anyone, let's start with the basics, okay?  Who are you?  What are you?"

She shook her head and tried to back further away, but was already against the wall.  "N-no.  No, I'll tell you, and then you'll kill me..." she said, voice cracking.

"This is pointless," Forward March sighed from behind her.

Isolde was inclined to agree, but wasn't quite ready to give up talking.  "We're not going to kill you.  I really just want to talk, okay?"

The creature flicked her eyes between Isolde and the floor, whimpering quietly.  Faint dark lines betrayed tears dripping down her cheeks, but she said nothing still.  Clearly a creature so afraid for its life had something to be afraid of, which she would definitely agree killing Alpine Ash, tearing off her wing and hospitalizing half a dozen others warranted.  Nevertheless, she tried one last time.  "Come on, let's just talk.  My name is Isolde Hookbill.  Who are you?"

"Wh-Wh-Whimsy.  M-my name's Whimsy."

An interesting choice.  It almost sounded like a pony name.  "Glad to meet you, Whimsy.  Now... do you mind answering the other question?  None of us have ever seen something like you before.  What are you?"

She sniffled and choked.  "Wh-what's the difference?  I-I can't escape.  I-I'm... I'm a... draconequus."  She sniffled.  "Pl-please... I didn't hurt anyone... please let me go!"

Draconequus?  The word sounded vaguely familiar, like something she'd read in an encyclopedia in a library once twenty years ago.  Maybe.  She could pick apart the word though, which clearly meant dragon-horse.  The terrified thing huddled under the bed looked the part, although with some bat and maybe griffon mixed in for the wings and claws.  "A draconequus?  Okay.  So, Whimsy, if you didn't hurt anyone why are you so afraid we'll kill you?"  ...aside from the fact they already tried once.

"That's what happens to draconequuses that get caught.  That's what she tells us.  That's what we all hear."  Whimsy wiped at her cheeks with a trembling hand.  "That the draconequuses that get caught have their wings cut off, then they're killed and left for the buzzards..."

Yet again with the oddly specific wing removal.  Why that of all things?  "So there are more of you?  Is that who you were calling for help?"

"Y... no.  No, no.  It's... it's just me."

Clearly not.  "You just said 'we' a second ago.  What are you trying to hide?"

"Please, it's just me here.  Nobody else.  Nobody... but... u-um..."

Isolde sighed.  "I promise we're not going to cut your wings off.  I've been open and candid with you so far, so can you do the same for me?  You can come out and get back on the bed if you want?"

She shook her head vigorously, then froze and held a hand to her jaw.  "N-no... th-that's okay."

"Okay, if that's what you want.  But I do need to know who else is out here.  We've been attacked by something several times and need to defend ourselves.  You said you've done nothing wrong, so was it someone else?"

Whimsy held the hand to her jaw, which tightened visibly.  Her tail twitched and curled up with the rest of her.  "I-I can't... she might kill me... she-she's crazy."

"If you tell us, we can help protect you.  If she's the one that attacked us then I want to put an end to it."

Whimsy shook her head slowly.  "You can't.  You can't stop her.  She's... she's like four hundred years old and has the magic to show it.  No-nobdy knows how.  Nobody lives that long..."

"I'm not inclined to just sit here and ignore her.  Anything you tell us will help."

"It-it doesn't matter, does it?"  Whimsy fought back tiny sobs.  "You're going to kill me... or she's going to kill me... wh-what do I do?  I've already said too much..."

Isolde cut her eyes toward the door as someone grumbled something, but looked back.  "If you're telling me the truth, then we're not going to kill you, or hurt you, or cut off your wings, or whatever.  We've already spent a lot of effort trying to keep you alive.  We wouldn't have done that if we were just going to kill you, right?"

Whimsy didn't respond.

"Come on, why don't you come out from other there so we can all talk?  Face-to-face?"

No dice.  The draconequus just coughed and shook her head again.  "N-no..."

Ugh, fine.  "If you want to stay there, then okay, but I still want to know who you're talking about.  The crazy person?"

"Anarchy.  That's-that's what everyone calls her.  Anarchy."  Whimsy coughed again and wiped an eye.  "I thought she was just a legend.  I-I mean, everyone tells crazy stories about the zombie draconequus up north.  Y-you know?  Entropy?  The one who was so mad at the ponies and griffons that she came back to life when they killed her, and now brings them back to life to serve her when she kills them?"

Isolde frowned.  The what?  That wasn't a story she'd ever heard and sincerely hoped it was just a story.  "Doesn't ring a bell, no.  I don't think I've ever heard of Anarchy either.  Who is she exactly?"

"The legends said that she's the sister of that zombie, and... and of Lord Mayhem.  I know Lord Mayhem is real, but, um, I've never met him.  Everyone talks about going to stay with him, but it's so far away, and there are so many ponies and griffons between him and us."  She cleared her throat and caught her breath.  "But... um, anyway, the stories were that Anarchy lost her mind when her sister died, and she wanders the world now, driving everyone else crazy as revenge.  I thought she was just a story, but... but I met her."

If she didn't believe she'd met this thing before herself, she'd think that Whimsy was just talking out of her head or trying to lie her way back out to safety.  "Where'd you meet her?  How?"

"It was far upstream of here.  I was... um, trying to catch some fish to eat.  I finally got one, and when I did it transformed into her.  I... well, I tried to fly away, but she stopped me with her magic.  She told me that she'd help me get all the food I ever needed if I did something for her..."

"Something related to Shadytrails, I assume?"  Isolde had to fight to keep her voice level as she added, "Someone drowned recently, and you were found nearby.  That's not related to this somehow, is it?"

Whimsy held her hands up pleadingly and shook her head hard enough again that she cringed and held a hand to her jaw.  "No, no, no!  No, I never hurt anyone!  Please, believe me!"

"Alright, so if it wasn't that, what did she want you to do?"

Whimsy bit her lip and rubbed her jaw.  "She... wanted me to steal a ring. She said you had a lot of really pretty silver rings and that some even had pretty gemstones in them.  She told me that if I stole that she'd make sure I always had the food I needed forever."

Isolde nodded.  Sure enough, they had made some of those recently, but those were for selling to the caravans, not being pilfered by strange snake dragon horse things.  "So you were coming to do that when we spotted you."

"I'm sorry, really, I am.  I don't steal from ponies and griffons.  Everyone that does ends up dead, and I'm not stupid!  B-but... finding food is hard around here and I was hungry.  And... and... you don't tell her 'no.'"

"Why's that?"

Whimsy shuddered.  "She does terrible things to you if you tell her 'no.'  She-she told me about some diamond dog named Bowser that she found recently.  He refused her offer, so she turned him into a monster!  H-have you ever seen the twisted things in the night with glowing eyes that hide in caves?  That's where they come from!  She turns people into monsters!"  Whimsy whimpered.  "I'm not a monster.  I don't want to be a monster..."

Isolde let the implications sink in.  Could that have been where the creature came from that killed Alpine Ash or the one that hurt so many others?  It seemed awfully convenient.  "I see... did you believe she'd actually live up to her end of the offer?"

"I don't know.  I just didn't want to find out what would happen if I didn't."  Whimsy held her hands out.  "I didn't take anything though, honest.  You'd have seen it if I did."

Nothing had been reported missing, so she was inclined to believe that.  "I think we would, yes.  So that's it?  An ancient draconequus that's crazy showed up, forced you to steal from us, and when you showed up we shot you and you ended up here?"

The brown draconequus nodded quickly.  "I know it's crazy, but it's true... pl-please, I'm begging you not to hurt me more.  I d-don't want any more trouble.  I'll leave and you'll never see me again!"

"But what about Anarchy?  What if she finds you?"

"I-I don't know.  I tried to do what she said.  Maybe she'll leave me alone."

Isolde somewhat doubted it, but all the same she didn't know what else to do.  "Alright then.  So... you're hungry then?"

Forward March grumbled, "You can't be serious."

"She flew into town and we shot her in the face before she'd done anything but stun a couple of people with her magic.  I think that's more than enough punishment, and I'm not going to send her back out hungry."  She looked back to Whimsy and said, "I can't just give you one of the rings.  They're too valuable for that, but you're free to go.  If you're hungry or thirsty then I'd be happy to get you something before you leave."

Now even Gunther felt the need to speak up.  "Isolde... should we be encouraging thieves like this?"

"We're nearly suffocating in stockpiled food as it stands.  I think we can afford to let her have some after almost killing her."  Again, she looked back to Whimsy.  "If you're interested?"

Whimsy clearly didn't know what to say.  She just sniffled and looked away as she thought.

"I'll take that as a not-no."  Isolde finally stood back up.  "I'm going to go get something for her.  Don't let her leave until I get back, and don't let anyone else in, okay?"

The men in the room all grumbled vague affirmations and made room for her at the door.

Oh, what had they all gotten themselves into?

14th Malachite, 225

I feel terrible all over again.

Whimsy, the draconequus that Shooting Star shot, woke up yesterday and we had a long talk.  I'm not going to repeat everything here, but the short version is that our city has apparently been targeted by an insane monster from ages past with motives I can't understand and a goal I don't want to imagine.  I have no doubt that this Anarchy is who attacked me, and who has been trying to make me think that I'm losing my mind.  I can't even begin to imagine what can be done about her, but right now I have something more pressing on my mind.

I let Whimsy go yesterday.  After talking with her, I believe her when she said she didn't do anything wrong.  Gunther did the best he could to fix the wound from the crossbow bolt.  She told us she only even approached the city because she was hungry, so I even fed her.  I hoped that maybe we could just put the whole incident behind us, and maybe... just maybe if we needed her help to deal with Anarchy she'd be willing to lend it.

I just wish that we could have done more.



I found her this morning at the river when I went to do some fishing and clear my head.  At first I was incensed that someone else had come behind me and killed her, but a quick inspection from Gunther revealed the truth.  She had severe internal injuries from the fall that no one could have known about, and must have collapsed at the river when she stopped for a drink.

My first thought was to bury her in the graveyard with Alpine Ash, next to where Jack will be buried when we finally retrieve him, but I frankly didn't want to hear the protests.  'Why are we burying this thing before Jack?'  So, instead, I had a fire built and we cremated her remains.

She was so specific about being hacked apart and left for the buzzards to eat.  She doesn't have to worry about that, I guess.

...but now we have no possible ally, and while I'm not going to pretend to know anything about her, all the same I feel awful that she died.

I hope we get Jack buried tomorrow.  I need to get all of this behind me.  I need some good news in my life for once... please.

15th Malachite, 225

It made a horrendous mess of icy slurry everywhere, but we got Jack's remains out of the pond and buried him today.



Since we had a temple and a priest this time, Jack had a much better ceremony than Alpine Ash.  Or so I'm led to believe at least, since I wasn't even able to attend his funeral because of my injuries.

Regardless, the ceremony was as well done as any funeral can be.  It was a somber affair that reminded me a lot of Jack in person, really.  A few of the others spoke, including Rosewood, Silver Rush and White Spruce, who told us how much she enjoyed working with him.

I said a little myself, although it didn't feel like enough.  What could I say?  I of course stressed how crucial his contributions have been in building Shadytrails, and how dedicated he was to his work, but that felt so stilted and impersonal.  Like it was coming from his boss... which I guess I am.  I just feel bad that I couldn't say more as a friend.  We didn't spend enough time together.  I really should have gotten to know him more than I did.

It... just hits me hard, deep down somewhere.  It hurts to lose Jack, absolutely.  I feel awful every time I think about it, when I don't just feel numb.

But, more than that, I can't help but think back to the last "episode" I experienced, which I feel positive is related to this "Anarchy."  Regardless of who she is, or what she is... I think she might be on to something.

Am I alone here?  Not physically, but emotionally?  Psychologically?

Not... really.  I talk to people and I'm friends with some of them.  Tunda and Silver Rush in particular.  But... you know, what if I'm just kidding myself there?  Do I spend too much time cooped up in my office and working?  Should I get involved in the community more?  When was the last time I'd even seen one of the performances they put on in town?  Months ago?

Anarchy or not, I think the answer to that is definitely yes, I need to get out and interact more.

...I don't feel well.  I'm going to bed early tonight.

1st Galena, 225

I only wish that we'd finished and installed them a couple of weeks sooner, but the carpenters and glass workers finished putting the new windows into the temple.  Some more light might have helped the ceremony feel a little less cramped and dour.  Maybe.



I'm probably just kidding myself about that, but the new windows do look lovely.  I'd hoped to have some of the fancy stained glass windows that the temples back home had, but in the interest of time and with the tools and materials we had available, we just installed normal windows.

Another fourteen are currently scheduled to be finished over the coming week or two, and when they're done we'll be fitting them in the remaining hospital rooms and in the tavern.  Once again, more light inside the tavern will be very welcome.

3rd Galena, 225

Spoiler: "Late one night" (click to show/hide)

Ever since Jack's funeral, Isolde had been having a hard time sleeping.  Every time she tried she spent at least a few hours lying there, dwelling on everything that had happened and where it all went wrong.  Tonight was no different, and tonight she was fed up with enough that she was going to go get something to make that easier.  A bottle of strawberry wine would help a lot.

It was well past when the tavern was closed for the night, but one of the advantages of being one of the top management in Shadytrails was that she had a key to the front door, and another for the cellar.  Hopefully she wouldn't wake Shortstack in the process, but if she did she could explain.

With a lit candle in one claw, Isolde trudged through the tavern and into the back with the kitchen.  It had been cleaned up since the attack by the monster however long ago that happened now, but all the same she felt a chill rush through her limbs at the thought of such a thing encountering her while she was there.  The cellar door turned out to be unlocked, so she hurried down and into the blackness of the cellar.

Something moved, and she heard a bottle fall and clatter against the newly installed stonework flooring.

"H-hello?" she called out, waving the candle around in the darkness.  Who would be down here this time of night?  Was it just a rat, maybe?  They might need to get some cats...

"So, you've come..."

Isolde yelped and scrabbled away from the voice coming from further in.  She grabbed the candlestick as it toppled from its holder.  "Who's that!?  Who's there!?"  She held the newly realigned candle toward the back of the cellar and saw something move...

"We've met a few times.  You know who I am, but just don't realize it yet, Isolde."  A bottle shattered.  "Sorry.  It's so dark in here I can't see what I'm doing."

Light from nowhere filled the room, drowning out her candle and revealing the truth before her: a soot-black draconequus stood hunched over the racks of wine and cases of alcohol.  Its snowy hair hung in loose tangles reaching down its back.  Blue silken robes seemed to swallow its wiry body, and what was exposed of its arms were covered in loose bands of silver and gold that were too large to fit, yet hung around its wrists.  More jewelry clattered from its neck and ears as it lifted a bottle of wine up to inspect its label.  Bloodshot golden eyes flicked her way.  "...care to guess who I am now?"

There was only one possibility.  Isolde backed away toward the stairs.  "Anarchy?"

"Ding ding."  Anarchy turned fully toward her and fixed her with a heavy glower.  "I'm glad you're here..."

Isolde's heart fluttered and she bolted up the stairs.  She had to get out of here and find help!  The cellar door shook under her weight, but she couldn't get it open!

"No, please... don't leave yet.  I need your help."  Anarchy slouched and head her way, each step sounding with a tiny clop of her hooves.

"Someone, help!" Isolde yelled up.

Anarchy cringed.  "Don't shout, please... I've got a headache."  She started up the stairs after her, bottle held outward.  "Now, I need your help..."

Isolde spun around and backed against the door.  "What do you want with me!?"

"What's this say?"  Anarchy tapped the label with a claw.  "I can't read.  Antic can't read anymore either, so he can't tell me."

...what...

"It looks like more strawberry wine, but there's no pictures on it so I can't tell.  What's it say?"

...oh...okay...  "Uh... it says 'Blueberry'..."

Anarchy's tired expression brightened.  "Oh, really?  Great, I'm getting tired of the strawberry wine.  I mean, it's good and everything, but you've just go way too much of it..."  She stumbled back down the stairs and popped the cork off.

There weren't any words remotely relevant to what was going on, so Isolde just watched with wide eyes as Anarchy plopped down on the floor and leaned against a support beam.

"You can come back down, you know.  It's kind of rude to talk to someone who's hiding over in the corner like that."  The draconequus took a swig of the wine and smiled simply.  "Oh... that's good."

The fact that someone was actively robbing them only flickered through Isolde's head as she continued to process what was happening.  "Wh-why?  What do you want with me?"

"To talk."

"About what?"

Anarchy rested her head against the beam and took a deep breath.  "First?  To tell you I'm sorry."  She blinked heavily and fixed Isolde with her eyes again.  "To tell you that I'm sorry, and for anyone else that was hurt."  She looked down to the bottle.  "And for anyone who died."

Isolde's beak dropped open slightly.  "Wh...at?"

Anarchy snorted.  "You might find it hard to believe... or outright disbelieve it... but I don't like hurting people.  No matter what's happened to me... I never liked hurting people."

"So-so why did you?"

"I figured after you talked to Whimsy you would have understood."  She frowned, showing a hint of fang.  "Yes, I saw that.  I was there."

Isolde threw up her claws.  "W-wait.  We didn't kill her.  We tried to help!"

"After shooting her in the face, right?"  Anarchy sipped from the bottle again.  "But... don't worry about that.  I don't blame you for what happened.  Or anyone but myself, really.  I know Shooting Star was just trying to protect the town and that you... you tried to help her afterward.  You're not a bad griffon, Isolde.  You really don't deserve what happened to you."

Again, words left Isolde, and she huddled up in her little corner.

"But, to answer you question.. Whimsy told you why I hurt people.  Why I hurt them and kill them."  She held a claw up against her head and made little circle motions.  "I'm crazy."

She was clearly strange... but crazy wouldn't be much of a stretch here.  "Oh..."

"There are fleeting moments of clarity.  Moments like this where I can tell that Antic isn't real and where I can understand that you and everyone else are people.  That you aren't just play things and feel pain, suffer and die."  Anarchy held the bottle up toward Isolde.  "But this?  This right here means it won't last long.  I'm sorry, but soon I'll be back to my old self..."

The griffoness held her claw out as if to take the bottle from halfway across the cellar.  "W-wait... let's not then?"

Anarchy shook her head.  "Guess you've never met an alcoholic then, have you?  I can't stop myself.  If I can't stop myself, then you certainly can't."  Her hand tightened around the neck of the bottle.  "As mean as she could be at times... my sister was right about that."  She hefted the bottle as if to slam it downward, but stopped.  "...I wish she were here now."

"Y-your sister?  The one Whimsy talked about?"

"Entropy," Anarchy said.  "Or as I knew her, Cantrip.  You know, we used to all have such nice and pretty names.  My given name was Revelry.  After she died and came back to life, she changed her name to Entropy.  Zeal changed his name to Mayhem soon afterward.  I guessed if they all left their old lives behind I should too, so now I'm Anarchy."  She sighed.  "But if Cantrip or Entropy were here, she could fix so much of this."

This sounded crazy, but Isolde was going to latch onto any chance she could get.  "Where is she?"

"I don't know.  I haven't seen her in forever.  We always got into fights when we saw each other, so after the last time I traveled a long way away.  It's been decades I think."  She gulped from the bottle again.  "But if she were here... she could have kept Whimsy from dying.  She could have healed your wing, or that poor little zebra that almost died.  She could have even brought Jack or Whimsy back to life, you know.  Nobody has to hurt or die..."

This had to just be the crazy talking.  Nothing could bring the dead back to life.  "W-well... what if we did bring her here?"

Anarchy snorted a half-chuckle.  "I wouldn't if I were you.  She's crazy too.  Her own kind of crazy, but dying and coming back to life didn't do her any favors."

So much for that...  Isolde swallowed and asked, "S-so... what then?  What do you want with us?  Or me?"

Anarchy shrugged.  "You're interesting to me for some reason.  When the clarity leaves me... I'm fascinated with you.  When I'm like that... I try to find people who I think are lost and help them.  You know?  I guess I thought you needed help."

"...and if I screw up you'll kill me."

The draconequus studied the bottle in her hand.  "I can't promise I won't.  I try... to fight it.  Antic tries to stop me too, but I can't help myself sometimes.  I'm so sorry..."

Isolde had never genuinely considered killing someone before, but now she wondered if that was the only thing to be done.  This creature had admitted to killing and hurting her friends, so she deserved it.  But how could they stop something so magically powerful?

"I'm sorry, Isolde.  Sorry for scaring you like this too."  She waved a hand at the door, which audibly unlocked behind her.  "You can leave now.  I just... I don't know... I wanted you to know why I was here and that it wasn't your fault or anyone else's.  I'm sorry."

Isolde barely heard the last of her speech as she bolted up and out of the cellar door.  The guard would still have a patrol out this late, so if she went and got one of them maybe they could stop Anarchy while she was still down in the cellar!

A quick search turned up Forward March just outside of the tavern's front door, but by the time they made it back down to the cellar there was no sign of Anarchy.  The light she'd conjured was gone as well, and the only evidence anyone had been there at all was the broken bottles and spilled wine.

They were too late to stop her.

What now?

What could Isolde possibly do to stop Anarchy from hurting anyone else?

...or was she really imagining everything she'd seen?

[Telgin]

And here it is.  The short, last update.  As of this post, I'm done with Shadytrails.  If anyone else wants to post a final scene or journal or something, feel free.  If you don't want to, that's fine too.

Edit: But nobody came.



Isolde's Journal - 10th Galena, 225

It's been a week since I saw her in the cellar of the tavern.  Anarchy.  Or Revelry?  Who... or whatever she really is... I now know for an absolute fact that she's real, that she's responsible for the deaths and injuries we've seen here, and that she's unwilling or unable to stop.

I am frankly terrified.  I don't know what to do.  I don't know what to do, and I know this isn't over.  Whatever fascination Anarchy has with me is getting people killed.  If I thought it were possible to lay some kind of trap for her and simply have the gaurd deal with this, I would.

But... I can't.  How could I?  She appears at random and I've had enough of a problem convincing people that I'm still sane that I couldn't convince Shooting Star to station guards with me ever hour of the day.  Especially not after Forward March followed me down into the cellar.

There are rumors floating around now that I'm getting drunk and seeing crazy things.  People give me weird looks now, and I've overheard the rumors in the tavern.  'Heh, I bet she's got the hard stuff over there.  Wonder if she sees any more flying dragon snakes right now?'  If things keep up at this rate, nobody's going to take me seriously anymore, and I don't think I need to elaborate on how that is going to make my job immensely challenging...

Whatever.  You know, just whatever.  I say that a lot now, but it's all I know to say anymore.  There is quite literally nothing I can do to make people believe me more, and there is quite literally nothing I can do to stop Anarchy.

So, I've been trying to find something else to occupy my mind while I buy time to figure out what I'm going to do.  I didn't exactly lend a claw to do it, but I did work out new plans to rearrange the flow of the weavers and clothiers so that they have newer, better facilities, and so that everything is more efficient.



The biggest change is the addition of a dyer's workshop.  We've been buying up small amounts of dye over the years but never had the right facilities to put it to use.  Now we will, which will greatly enhance the quality of the clothes and other crafts we make here.  I know everyone will prefer some nicely green or blue dyed clothing over the drab white and gray we've had to deal with so far.

It'll sell nicely too, of course.  Maybe I can even salvage last year's disastrous trade results.

9th Limestone, 225

For the past month things have been mercifully quiet.  It's just a lull, I know, and bad things are coming, but for now we're just continuing on like things are normal.

There hasn't been a lot of significance report, so I'll just mention that we've been spending a lot of time on landscaping down south.  Part of that is an initiative to make more space for another neighborhood that is on more level ground, but it's also partly an initiative to make area safer... I wouldn't want to see anyone else suffer the same fate as Jack.



We began building some bridgework over the old pond.  It was drained so nobody could drown in it anymore, but it was still certainly possible to fall into it and get hurt, and we needed to run the roads over it anyway.  Either way, I think it looks much nicer now.

11th Limestone, 225

A pony caravan arrived this morning, which is good and bad.  It's good since I'm eager to trade as much as we can to make up for last year, but it's bad since I really wanted to have some new, dyed clothes to trade too.

Regardless, we still managed probably the largest trade in Shadytrails' history.  Between the cut gems, silver jewelry and an assortment of crops, we traded many thousands of bits' worth of supplies in exchange for more iron, steel and materials for glassmaking.  It looks like Anarchy inspired us there at least, and Shadytrails has enough galena underground to supply silver for decades to come.  The town is in an excellent economic position and should prosper for a long time to come.

Well... the town will.  But... I probably won't be.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about the problems here.  Between Anarchy and my continual loss of respect and authority, I'm beginning to think that the town will be better off if I leave.  I thought that Shadytrails was my home now, but it really isn't anymore.  It hasn't felt that way for years now, really.  Not since Alpine Ash died, for sure.

I'm not completely sold on the idea yet, but I'm really beginning to think that it's for the best.  If Anarchy wants me, then if I leave maybe she'll leave Shadytrails alone.

Besides her, everyone has reelected Bahati repeatedly since she was first elected mayor.  She's the face of Shadytrails now, and someone else can take over as the treasurer and manager of the town.  Bahati can even assign someone for all that it matters.  It's not really even a hard job.

The arrival of the caravan today really cemented the idea.  The caravan from Handraven will be in town soon, and I'm going to talk to the liaison about it.  I can hand control over to Bahati completely and just... go home.  Maybe the Confederacy will have work for me there.  I can at least go back my old job, probably.

22nd Limestone, 225

As I feared, Anarchy definitely hasn't left us alone.  She didn't attack anyone this time, in a sense, but the magical madness has taken Rosewood.  She's currently holed up in one of the carpentry shops and gathering a random assortment of materials, just like all of the others have.

Seeing her like this just reminds me that Anarchy is here because of me, and that the sooner I leave the sooner she'll hopefully leave them alone.

I've definitely made up my mind.

3rd Sandstone, 223

Like the others, Rosewood finally finished the project she was working on after a couple of weeks.  The result was an absolutely fabulous wooden crutch.



It's a work of art, but testament to the madness that Anarchy is trying to inflict on all of us.  What purpose would such a crutch serve?  It could probably actually function, but it's too valuable for such a thing.  And yet, who would put it on display?

I don't know.  I'm too tired to think about it.  If Gunther wants to display it in the hospital or something, I'll let him.  I'm already trying to distance myself from the decision making in town.

He and Bahati are the only two that currently know that I'm planning on leaving.  Bahati had to know, and Gunther... well, he's one of the only ones I talk to anymore.  I'm planning on telling Rosewood, Silver Rush and Tunda tonight, I think, but everyone else will just find out when I'm gone I think.  It won't really matter anyway.

7th Sandstone, 225

The caravan from the Confederacy branch from Handraven arrived in town today.  Sooner than I was expecting, but I'd already made up my mind.

I stopped the liaison Jakob on the way to Bahati's office and joined him so that the three of us could talk about the future of Shadytrails and myself.  He was a little shocked that I wanted to leave and even informed me that everyone was quite happy with how the economics in town had turned around since last year.  That's good, I guess.  Maybe back in Handraven people don't think I'm incompetent and insane.

After talking about it for a while, he agreed that I could return to Handraven when the caravan leaves.  The Conferacy was happy enough with my results here in Shadytrails that he even said that he'd vouch for me when we got back.  I can probably get a position as an accountant again or something.

It won't be glamorous, but it's something.  Maybe I'll have some respect again, and... you know, it's been years since I've seen my family.  I'll be glad to see mom and dad again, and I'm sure they will be too.

The few people I've told in town were surprised and upset.  Maybe even a little hurt.  I'm sorry about that, but... my mind is made up.

10th Sandstone, 225

Late That Afternoon

As Isolde climbed into the wagon, she chanced one last look over Shadytrails.  She'd already told her friends goodbye and asked them not to spread the word around or make a big deal about it.  It was being a bit too dramatic to insist that nobody make a big deal about her departure, but she really wanted this to be as low key as possible.  Her last year or so in Shadytrails hadn't been the happiest, and it would just be easier for everyone, herself included, if she just left like this.

It would also save her the awkwardness if nobody cared.  It wasn't a foregone conclusion that people really would care all that much.

She pulled her pack up to rest in her lap and let out a breath.  A few hundred bits and a few changes of clothes were all she really had to her name now, and it would have to do until she got back to Handraven and found work again.

With another look out over Shadytrails, she tried not to think about how it had taken a monumental amount of time and effort on everyone's part to build Shadytrails from nothing.  Everyone, including herself.  A monumental amount of effort, and she really didn't have much to show for it.  She might have earned a little reputation in the Confederacy, and maybe a few people were happy in Shadytrails, but... just as many had been talking about leaving for years, and the town might even be abandoned within a few more.  She wasn't a vested officer even after five years of working in leadership and management.

Then again, she had herself to blame as much as anyone else.  She was the one who was quitting and walking away now.  Maybe if she'd stayed for a few more years things would have gotten better, and maybe she'd have been promoted.

Or maybe Anarchy would kill her or someone else.

It was her that decided to quit and walk away, but she was too tired to care now.  It was done and decided now, and as the ponies ahead pulled the wagon from the depot, she tried not to look at the town she was leaving behind.

"Tomorrow is another day..."