Whew! My third fully scripted, fully voiced Skyrim mod is out the door! Great Success! But you didn't come here for that. you came for pony. I bring OC and some screens for your delightments.
~ Limestone ~
Celestia’ sake! We are damn sure not alone out here. More and more refugees come flooding in every day from the wastes from every direction. We are eighty strong now. I want to be ecstatic about it. I really, really do. I want to put on a smile, and be mirthful and join in on the party downstairs, but I know better than to celebrate yet. They are all looking up to me, doe eyed, expecting food, water, and shelter, which I can’t exactly promise. We simply don’t have the infrastructure of a small town in place to support the newcomers yet. We are working double the speed to accommodate, New wells are being built, A massive dining room is being carved out, trade goods are being manufactured to sell for essentials, it’s all coming. It’s just not coming as fast as the refugees. I literally have no more ponies to throw at the problem. Everyone is working day and night, and Jaxler’s squad has been temporarily disbanded to work in shifts. That unfairly leaves Tarrus to guard both entrances in squads of five. If an invading army wanted to stomp us out, now would be the opportunity. Of course, exterior threats are the least of my concerns. At least they wear uniforms.
Even with being so understaffed, Snow and her squad are jotting down every name, and I’m building a dossier on every single one of the refugees. I’m getting the family names down, medical histories, other personal details. Also i’m regrettably building a jail. We can’t have let a single one of Nightmare Moon’s changelings slip through the gates. The insect-like monsters kill a pony, steal their identity, and hide among us. The spies relay everything they see to their hives telepathically! That’s devastating enough on its own, but oh, you know it has to be worse. While they blend into the general population, they eject invisible spores, infectious spores. These spores get in your head, make you progressively more paranoid and aggressive. Get blasted with enough of it, The fort will tear itself apart. I’ve seen this time and time again; you’d think after a while, it’d just seem like another normal hazard to occasionally check for, like every other cruel obstacle thrown at us. But It never stops nagging at the back of the mind. I’ll never get used to it. I will never stop being apprehensive when I meet someone new. How can I?
One hundred and ten strong.
You know what? I’m putting in a order to build a bar on the third level. I’m going to have a big opening day party and all my friends are invited. Why? because I run the place and ‘them’s are’ the perks. Its either that, or I snap from stress.
I have a suspicion our new residents aren't taking the extra security precautions around here seriously. ‘Bright Rotball’? ‘Glen Blowwipe’? ‘Cream Enchantpants’? yeah, those names are fake. They’re being rounded up, and we’re going to have a little ‘chat’.
While passing though this fort’s halls, I met a particularly odd earthpony named Ragebrew. Ragebrew rushed me on the way to a meeting and fired away all sorts of questions about alchemy that went straight over my head. I just nodded with a smile and assured him we have all the comforts of a proper alchemy lab down in the caverns. (Hopefully far enough away from the housing if there ever was an ‘accident’)
He’s content with his devices, I’m hoping he’ll make a few alchemical concoctions of the restorative variety.
Mud has been making excellent progress on setting up traps around the fort with the surplus weapons around here! I especially like what he did with the comically large axe blades we had laying around. I would have never thought to use them like that....
One hundred and thirty strong.
Alright, new mandate. NO MORE FOOD IN LIVING SPACES. ANYONE CARRYING FOOD OUT OF THE DESIGNATED DINING ROOMS WILL BE PROSECUTED. I can’t believe I have to spell this out! The rooms smell like cloying death!
I mean, I get It. nobody has had a shower in months, We’re all matted sweaty balls of reeking shit anyway, why not have your room smell like a festering puss-riddin’ wound, too? Why not add some icing to the shitcake? But Godamn! The dorms smell like a meat locker baking in the summer heat!
No more food in the dorms. Anyone else gets the idea to put three stacks uncooked raw meat in a chest for four months I’ll execute him myself.
I need some air. I’m heading down to the caverns to clear my head. Its oddly beautiful down there.
~Down in the caverns~
Surefire walked down the over crowded hallways, down, down to the very bottom. It wasn’t easy, scrambling over everypony doing gods knows what anymore. The fort had become a living thing, a rock organ pumping pony blood cells every direction, performing so many vital tasks he couldn't even keep hope of keeping track of. He was just a soldier a few months back, commanding no more than thirty. Now look.
As he steps off the last stone, he’s greeted by Tarus and his squad, keeping the local kobold population in check.
He walked off into a far corner with a torch and laid back on a piece of granite and looked up to the distant cavern ceiling. The illuminate fungi on the ceiling reminded him of the stars. Which reminded him how much he missed the real thing. The stars calmed him, made him feel at home, in an odd way. As if the world never fell apart and everything was normal.
Surefire heard whimpering. “Hello?” he called out.
The whimpering continued. Piqued, he got up and headed in its direction.
“Hello? Anybody there?” his golden eyes scanning every rock culvert for the source of the noise.
He saw the blur of a creature out of the corner of his vision.
“Whatever you are, If you’re looking for a fight, I will kill you!” He shouted at the dark, lying through his teeth. This was supposed to be a leisurely stroll, He didn’t arm himself before leaving the fort’s safety.
He saw something scurry past and he pounced at it.
It was a foal, probably no older than ten.
“Oh, Sergal spit! What are you doing down here?” Surefire exhaled in relief.
“Never, Never! Play around in the caverns! It’s not safe down here!” Surefire scolded. “Here, follow me, I’ll get you back to safety.”
“No, you can’t...” she glowered.
“You adults always say that! you always say you’ll save me! My parents said they’d save me. They died. The nice blue lady said she’d save me. She died. Now, you want to save me! You’re going to die too! You’re all liars!” she cried.
“ ‘blue lady’? What ‘blue lady’? “ Surefire asked cautiously.
She looked in direction, he followed her gaze.
He saw Lieutenant Snow.
More specifically, he saw the upper half of lieutenant Snow, with her bloody entrails leading off into the dark. Her fore-hooves were outstretched, as if she was cut in half mid-stride running away from something, her face had a permanent expression of fear etched on it.
“You can’t save me ...” she murmured.
Surefire wanted to ask her for a vague description of what did this, but it was almost pointless. He only knew of one creature capable of this ...
He turned, and looked into the black mass of shadow staring back at him. He knew in this was the work of a Taken.
The dark mass loomed just outside of the weak flicker of his torch. If it weren’t for the Taken’s deathly weakness to natural light, he and the girl would surely be dead already.
Surefire walked slowly over to Snow and picked up her warhammer with his mouth calmly. He showed no fear. That was its weapon. He knew negotiating, bribing, or pleading with it was useless. It just wanted one thing; Total Assimilation.
part 1 of 3