The Scroll of Exalted Ponies

Speaker had heard the rumors. He had heard the stories of how Amilar Drip-Crank had taken over the then Valkhawsen seminary on sorcery and artifice over seventy years ago and transformed it into Creation’s greatest house of learning with regards to artifice, arcane science and artifact maintenance... but that clearly wasn’t all.

What Speaker evidently hadn’t heard was the part of the story that had led up to that take-over. Ruby tried to fill him in as they journeyed across campus to the headmaster’s office, though the story clearly troubled her as she kept playing with mane ever y so often, forcing Speaker to urge her to keep telling the story.

“Ok, uhm… so after this silver anathema kidnapped his brother, Drip-Crank went to rescue him. I don’t know how long he was gone, but in the end he returned with his brother and some very nasty magical injuries” Ruby told, sounding quite uncomfortable at the thought of having to describe Drip-Crank’s mystic malady, and appearing even less hot on the idea of any of the students or teachers in earshot hearing her retell the tale.

“While fighting, Drip-Crank was cursed by the anathema. His body basically decays… every year another bit falls off, no matter what he does to prevent it – so he is really creepy to meet up close. He’s a lot more interesting to listen to at a distance in a lecture hall” Ruby forced herself to say, her expression betraying the fact that she had indeed seen the Headmaster up close, more than once even.

Nodding, Speaker had to wonder if this ‘curse’ was akin to what Shimmer had done to that abyssal back at Birdstone. Though, it also made him wonder how Drip-Crank had compensated for the parts of him that would have failed during those seventy years – it would likely depend on how quickly or slowly the curse was working on him. Oh this was sounding very interesting.

“Look – just promise me you won’t embarrass yourself by making light of his condition. It was by his recommendation that I was allowed to study here, so I cannot express how much I owe him” Ruby explained, impressing Speaker with how much she seemingly both feared and admired this unicorn they were about to meet.

At the headmaster’s office Speaker instantly realized what headmaster Drip-Crank had done to replace his failing anatomy: Jade prosthetics –lots of them – and many of them appearing quite invasive and non-standard, compared to the artifact prosthetics that Speaker had seen earlier at the medical ward for injured legionaries…

Drip-Crank’s head was half-covered in a polished metal casing, with one eye replaced by an intricately faceted yellow gemstone which was capped in gold and ensorcelled to dilate and contract like a real eye. All of his limbs were replaced partially or entirely by magical prosthetics one way or the other, and the lumpy uneven shapes under his ornately embroidered robes hinted of extensive organ-prosthetics, which was something that Speaker had never really heard of or seen before. Even Drip-Crank’s blue horn appeared to have polished bronze fittings holding it onto his head, though its color did match what remained of his coat, so it likely was his real horn.

“You sent for us headmaster?” Ruby cautiously asked with a bowed head, trying not to look at the headmaster, all the while Speaker couldn’t stop gawking.

The headmaster turned, the sound of tiny gears in his neck whirring, and two mechanical nostril vents let out a small puff of steam. Speaker found it difficult to formulate any kind of questions – he mainly wanted to see how exactly the headmaster ‘worked’ – it was just too much of an enticing mystery.

Speaking with a voice that had a distinctly unnatural and mechanical resonance, due to his blue jade and orichalcum prosthetic voice-box, the headmaster acknowledged Ruby’s question: “Indeed. I do prefer to be notified when security inspectorate agents are hunting realm spies on my campus. Additionally, I find it quite crass when my students bring anathema on campus without notifying me either, as I find their presence an abomination. Explain yourselves”

Had Cash been there he could probably have said something smart that would have defused the situation, but Speaker came up blank. Ruby similarly appeared to be frozen in terror.

After about fifteen seconds of uncomfortable silence, Speaker finally frowned and decided to say something – even though it had nothing to do with the headmaster’s questions: “Your curse… a Lunar did that?”

The headmaster’s gemstone eye took on a bright red and quite furious glow at the mention of Lunars: “Indeed – and I can assure you that I have heard of your medical exploits, but no, you cannot help me. Even using the rarest and most secret of medical artifacts to regenerate my limbs fails on me: The curse withers them away in an instant”

“Perhaps – but have you heard what I did to the matriarch of Gens Yushoto?” Speaker inquired.

The headmaster’s head buzzed for a moment, making Speaker worried of just how much of this pony’s ‘inner workings’ had been replaced with arcane devices, before the headmaster spoke: “I have been made aware of the rumors regarding your connection to the resolution of her condition. Again I would point out that my condition is very different in nature, not simply a chakra corruption-cascade brought on by a century of intense recreational drug use”

Speaker had not been told about the root cause of Yushoto Risotto’s former illness, but at the same time then headmaster’s insistence that his condition was incurable rubbed Speaker the wrong way: “Sure. I still think I can fix you, I just need to consult a Lunar friend of mine about how to end this curse of yours, because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it in use before on someone else – though I wasn’t aware that its effects could be this persistent”

His stomps sounding decidedly metallic on the ceramic tiled floor, Drip-Gear demonstratively trotted right up to Speaker: “I have already explained: I consider your very presence an insult to Valkhawsen and myself. I would never and will never consent to any kind of ‘treatment’ from you. That I am not having you thrown out right now is the greatest courtesy I am willing to extend towards you”

The wheezing from the headmaster’s voice box as it spun down was the only sound one could hear in the expansive office, aside from a few ticking mechanisms and clocks, but most of them were muffled quite well under stands of papers and piles of scrolls.

Frowning, Speaker dismissed the urge to take a step back from the rather intimidating unicorn up in his face: “Amilar Drip-Crank, we are both scholars. We base our wisdom on observable facts, correct?”

His mechanical gem-eye’s ocular lens at its maximum dilation, Drip-Crank matched Speaker’s deep frown on the non-mechanical side of his face: “As already stated, I base my dislike of anathema on the fact that your ilk caused my condition. Furthermore, then your feeble attempt at a rhetorical trap is pathetic and transparent”

“Master, please – he can help you” Ruby pleaded, but Drip-Crank simply swiveled his gem-eye and shot Ruby a baleful one-eyed glare without ever moving away from his forehead-on-forehead action with Speaker.

Ruby quickly shut up, stumbling backwards in fright.

“As for you, Bright Machine Speaker, the only reason I would have anything to do with you would be to oversee a dissection of you and your souls, to try to find out how your dark powers are bonded to you” the headmaster sternly stated through gritted teeth, as he slowly pushed Speaker backwards towards the door leading out of the office.

It would be an understatement to say that Speaker found Drip-Crank’s refusal to play ball annoying – infuriating even. He was just trying to help!? And if the Lunar curse on Drip-Crank worked similarly to the shaping charm that Shimmer had used on the Deathknight called Typhon, then his order-affirming charm should fix Drip-Crank with but a single touch… though, depending on how Drip-Crank’s prosthetics were attached, and exactly what bits had been replaced, then doing that without removing them first might end up harming Drip-Crank needlessly.
…and again: Drip-Crank’s stubborn refusal to accept honest no-strings-attached help annoyed Speaker endlessly.

Ultimately Speaker chose to treat Drip-Crank for what he clearly was: A unicorn who’d wallowed in his own self-pity to the point that he had given up hope of ever finding a cure – only working towards alleviating his symptoms as they came.

As Speaker put a firm hind-hoof down, Drip-Crank suddenly found it quite difficult to push him back any further – Speaker’s strength was great, and even with essence-fueled might from his jade limbs could not match this. A forehead-shove forward from Speaker made Drip-Crank take a step back: It was clear who had served in the special forces, and who had been a scholar all his life.

“Tell me, just how much of your insides have been replaced? I’ve never heard of artifact organs” Speaker asked, standing tall to point that he appeared about half a head taller than Drip-Crank.

Drip-Crank’s gem-eye snapped to a tight focus on Speaker: “I fail to see why I should divulge such information”

“Moot point. My essence-sight and medical charms have revealed it now: You have an eye replacement, several patches of jade-treated leather and hide working as skin-grafts, all of your legs up to your shoulders except on your right fore-leg were its only up to your ankle. Your throat is plated in jade and your voice is clearly a work of jade artifice as well. Finally, judging from the weakened chakras and essence flows I can see in your abdomen and torso then I’d say that you’re missing a kidney, between three and five feet of small intestine and your liver is in the early stages of failing – and your horn is solid jade socketed into your skull” Speaker said, having used his charms to quickly diagnose Drip-Crank.

The headmaster gave Speaker an impressed nod: “Very perceptive. Now, if you would be so polite as t…”

With a quick swipe of his forehoof and a glimmer of golden essence Speaker applied his disassembly charm to Drip-Crank’s voicebox. With a churning and coughing noise Drip-crank’s metallic throat exploded in a mess of sticky greenish oil and tiny gears, strangely cut gems replete with tiny runes on every facet, and bits of tubing.

Drip-Crank twisted and leapt towards his desk – probably towards some kind of alarm or something – but Speaker had Drip-Crank’s horn and limbs disassembled in a flash of light, leaving a more or less quadriplegic pony flopping around on the floor, gasping for air.

Ruby stood frozen in horror. She had never imagined that Speaker would attack her beloved headmaster like that – and she had even less of an idea of what to do in the situation, especially considering her orders to remain on Speaker’s good side unless he began to pose a danger to Lookshy: It was obvious to her that Speaker thought he could help Drip-Crank here, but this… this was her father Speaker was killing.

Speaker was taking a quick breath to evaluate Drip-Crank’s new reduced state. Apparently the clockwork voice-box and its essence-coiled springs had also supported the unicorn’s failing wind-pipe. This greatly reduced the amount of time he would have to check Drip-Crank over before order-affirming quadriplegic pony.

It was then that Ruby finally tackled Speaker, the two tumbling around in a struggle to gain a hold over the other.

“You fool – he’ll suffocate if I don’t finish this!” Speaker shouted, as Ruby flared her anima-flux, causing ruby shards to coalesce in the air around her and spin around like a razor vortex. The scratching noise alone from the shards ripping at the floor tiles was painful enough, but after getting cut quite severely and having his clothes shredded, Speaker finally managed to get his shield charms up.

In turn he was able to get a strong grip on Ruby and use his Rearing Crane Release Technique to toss the unicorn mare up into the air – where she stayed, thanks to Speaker’s magical martial arts.

Hurrying over to the gasping Drip-Crank Speaker used his instant-diagnostic charm once more. It didn’t look good: Drip-Crank still had foreign objects in his eye-socket and in the back of his neck, likely remains of disassembled prosthetics. Maybe there had been some kind of spinal-reinforcement? These were tricky to remove – especially as Ruby dropped down to the ground and tried to blast him away from Drip-Crank with a heavy bolt of earth essence and concussive force.

Carefully floating bits of metal and jade out of Drip-Crank’s otherwise empty eye-socket while also fending off Ruby’s increasingly desperate attempts to get him away from her headmaster wasn’t easy – especially since holding Drip-Crank’s still to prevent him from struggling meant that he didn’t have that many hooves free to swat away Ruby’s elemental blasts, and just throwing Gift at her wouldn’t really be nice either: Speaker had no desire to see Ruby get hurt as part of this, but the option was becoming increasingly tempting.

Ultimately Drip-Crank was completely liberated of the remains of his prosthetics – most of him looking like a gaping wound – but this came at the cost of Ruby getting Speaker into a surprisingly strong choke-hold. The good news in turn was that all Speaker needed was a quick nose-boop on Drip-Crank with his order-affirming charm to undo the Lunar curse and restore his body… well, hopefully.

Drip-Crank wasn’t able to object: His face was turning blue from asphyxia – the fact that he hadn’t passed out yet a testament to his ability to endure in the face of his failing body, though that quickly changed as Speaker’s charm undid the curse.

Strands of flesh exploded from every decayed part of the unicorn stallion’s body in a shower of blood. Drip-Crank convulsed in shock as his skin bubbled around every abscess and open sore, stretching and knitting together with golden light. His stumpy limbs sprouted fresh bones that should have been there all along, and muscles, sinew and hooves faded into view as Drip-Crank’s true form returned. The most startling part of the restorative effect was when the unicorn’s horn reappeared, coalescing from strong swirls of air essence that caused furious winds to roar around the office, making a mess of all the papers and scrolls as most of them were covered in blood spatter. It actually looked quite a lot like when pony foals exalt as unicorns in the first place, though with a lot more blood going around.

While now whole, Drip-Crank no longer moved. Ruby released her hold on Speaker, instead rushing to her headmaster. It was clear to Speaker that Drip-Crank had simply passed out from the shock of the experience, so he smiled to himself as he felt quite satisfied, but Ruby quickly shot that down with a really nasty glare as Speaker tried to move in to check on Drip-Crank.

Speaker was about to say something in his defense, but Ruby got up and shooed him out of the office: “No, you don’t get to justify this. Go away. You’ll be lucky if don’t end up arrested and executed for this!”

Ruby’s tone was one of tearful fury, her jaw clenched and more than one angry vein looking ready to pop. Speaker recognized it as how Shimmer had looked before he had told her to leave and simply shook his head at her: She was clearly just an overly emotional fool who didn’t know any better – though the fact that she wouldn’t let him check to see if Drip-Crank did annoy him.

Leaving Ruby to work out whatever her problem was, Speaker breathed a deep sigh of relief and wandered down the halls of Valkhawsen.
Amid a sea of students sought out a dining hall. The sun was high in the sky, a little over noon, and Speaker was feeling hungry following the last couple of hours worth of hectic events.

In a dining hall filled with rows upon rows of benches, most of which were empty since it was past the official student lunch hour, Speaker found sustenance. The few students present didn’t appear to eating either – most sitting with books and scrolls, or rehearsing sorcerous incantations. It was a bit amusing to see young unicorns and the odd godblooded pony waving their hooves around and making lights appear, or seeing their attempts fizzle in sputtering of sparks and essence – ok, it was actually quite amusing.

Speaker sat down with a tray of bread and cheese and snickered at a group of unicorn students who appeared to be rehearsing some kind of basic conjuration of summoning. They did not take this well.

“Hey geezer – are you a student here?” one of the unicorns shouted in a tone that was clearly that of a frustrated and annoyed young colt.
Speaker shook his head as he ate, munching contently on the bland but chewy bread before him.

“Well then you shouldn’t make light of our hard work – if you’re not a sorcerer you have no business here!” the colt shouted again. The other hooded unicorns around him nodded. The other students in the dining hall appeared to actively keep their noses to their books, not wanting to be dragged into this.

Recalling having performed feats of sorcery that was the stuff of legend even back in the first age, Speaker found it difficult to take the annoyance of a mumble of sorcery students serious. This didn’t help quell their ire.

Apparently taking great offense to Speaker’s lack of humility in the face of their arcane craft, perhaps combined with a bit of youthful hotheadedness, the three students quite loudly got up from their benches and began to make their way towards Speaker.

Just as much as he simply wanted lunch, Speaker had no interest in a fight – and he knew well enough that he had yet to spend time dabbling in sorcery and rediscovering the wondrous spells he had used in the first age – and he was still feeling just a tad annoyed from having been ordered out of the headmaster’s office by Ruby.

Thus when the three students neared him Speaker called Gift from elsewhere, and in the blink of an eye had it spinning quite furiously, close enough to shave the fuzz off the brash colt’s upper lip.

The reaction from the three was not what Speaker had expected: They were amazed.

“Dragons – that’s the thing I saw at the… are you the pony who broke the speed record at the gazebo?” the unicorn colt asked, starry-eyed and in awe.

What followed was the three students gushing and marveling at Speaker’s knowlegde of primordial artifice, until Ruby suddenly showed up.
“Speaker?” she said, calmly, right behind Speaker who had been too busy with first age anecdotes on divine artifice to pay attention to anyone sneaking up on him, not that Ruby had intentionally done so.

Turning to see who was addressing him, Speaker found himself decked – hard. The blow connected quite well, making Speaker spin in the air briefly before falling to the ground.

Looking up, Speaker saw a furious looking Ruby. Her coat around her eyes were stained with tears.

Staggering up, Ruby helped him up on his hooves and embraced Speaker, locking him in a passionate kiss as he got up.

…with little to no clue what was going on, and his head still spinning from the very strong blow from but moments ago, Speaker found himself quite confused: “The fuck is going on?”

“Thank you Bright Machine Speaker – now promise me you’ll never do that again” Ruby said, sounding both genuinely appreciative but also angry.

Shaking his head, Speaker wasn’t really sure what to say. Ruby caught on to this and led him away, saying that the headmaster wanted to talk to him again.

Part of him wanted to ask into what the headmaster wanted to talk about, but too much of him was still dazed and confused. It had been a strong earth-essence amplified blow, and his medical charms told him that he had a few lose teeth at the moment – though thanks to his exaltation then that would heal within the hour - and why in hell had Ruby kissed him?

“Oy, the fuck you think you’re doing?” the unicorn colt Speaker had been showing the inner workings of Gift to said out loud, sounding quite upset.

Ruby shot the colt a murderous glare as she dragged Speaker off.

As Speaker finally came too fully he found himself back in the headmaster’s office. A pale but otherwise whole looking Drip-Crank was there to greet him, along with a very chipper Ruby.

“I believe I owe you an apology” Drip-Crank said, extending a shaky and very ‘new’ hoof to Speaker in a friendly gesture.

Nodding, Speaker accepted the hoof and shook it, noting that the solid parts of the hoof proper hadn’t hardened entirely just yet – to which end he suggested that Drip-Crank lie down and rest until his body caught up fully with its new parts.

Shuffling over to a couch filled with scrolls and books – and cleared it with a swift gust of conjured up wind – Drip-Crank flopped down onto it.
“Alright then – was there anything else?” Speaker asked, not entirely sure what else there was to talk about.

Ruby looked at Drip-Crank, and mouthed something that Speaker couldn’t quite make out. Drip-Crank nodded: “Right. Your designs, Speaker, they intrigue me”

“Anything in particular you want to know?” Speaker said, somewhat relieved that Drip-Crank wanted to talk about a subject that he was far more at home with, as opposed to continuing any kind of discussion or apology on the topic of anathema and Drip-Crank’s previous behavior towards Speaker.

It should surprise no-one that the headmaster of the foremost academy of arcane science, engineering and artifice would be interested in picking the brains of a pony who most of the first age secrets of those fields – especially now that Drip-Crank didn’t seem to consider Speaker a demon-possessed anathema.

Apparently Speaker’s designs had hinted of things that simply weren’t considered possible, such as the edgeless-cutting field of force and heat or the proposed propulsion method by way of something Speaker had simply scribbled in old realm as ‘false-weight anchor throwing’.

Ultimately Drip-Crank and Ruby talked Speaker into writing much of what he knew into a series of tomes for Valkhawsen’s library, in exchange for Valkhawsen sponsoring most of the materials needed for the creation of Speaker’s gizmo. Cash Charmer could without a doubt have negotiated a better deal, but Speaker truly loved the idea of being allowed to share his knowledge.

“One thing though… what exactly are the designs you’ve made for?” Ruby inquired, her head held low in embarrassment for not having figured out exactly what Speaker was trying to make.

Speaker summoned Gift and floated it before the unicorns: “A long overdue attempt at a better version of this”

“A mechanical chakram… interesting” Drip-Crank noted, scratching his chin.

With all of that settled there was but one last thing Speaker needed to do while at Valkhawsen – the thing he had originally set out to do that day: Destroy the flesh-forging orb.

The students and teachers alike in Valkhawsen gawked at the sight of their now fully in-the-flesh headmaster as he, Ruby and Speaker strode through the halls towards the lower levels. Judging from the few whispers Speaker caught as they walked by, then most of the ponies were shocked not to hear Drip-Crank rattling or whirring mechanically as he walked anymore.

In what Drip-Crank described as a subterranean containment chamber of the highest order, five teams of five unicorns were called, each of them taking up pre-determined positions where they all began to cast potent – for unicorns – warding and containment spells around the edge of a massive pentagram etched into the cold stone floor.

Taking position in the middle of the ten yard in diameter pentagram, Speaker recalled the flesh-forging orb from elsewhere and floated it before him: “Be aware everyone – once I break this thing we’ll likely have infernal fire and trapped demons spilling out – so prepare to cast banishment spells”

As a precaution, Speaker called Gift to his side and sheathed himself in his own defensive charms.

Striking the orb with his disassembly charm, Speaker denounced the wicked thing: “I decry this mockery of malice and pain – back to bowels of Malfeas from whence you came!”

The orb at first didn’t seem to react – but after just enough seconds to make the unicorns channeling the warding spells waver, the orb erupted in a brilliant explosion of emerald green fire.

Speaker’s elemental immunity charm protected him from the fire, but the swarm of neomah demons that followed were less orderly: They poured out of the now broken orb, the remains of emerald shackles of fire disintegrating from their forms.

Now, of the three most common demons known in Creation, the Neomah were known as the infernal harlots, the whores of the demon king: Their shapeshifting abilities, informed by their flesh-crafting powers, allowed them to take on any form one desires – and they will please any lonely summoner in exchange for payment… payment in flesh, which they collect and shape into unholy hellspawn that help populate the demon realm.

The inner circle of the pentragram, the ward prime, very quickly overflowed with neomah. Like fish in a barrel they strained against the wards – which held, for the time being – but it was obvious that such wouldn’t work for very long.

Speaker, at the bottom of the hundred sensual androgynous pony-shaped demon pile, was wondering if the unicorns outside the holding circle would be able to banish this many demons before the wards failed. What he couldn’t tell was that the banishment was already under way – but indeed there were simply too many to banish in a timely manner.

Ultimately feeling that he had waited long enough, Speaker revved Gift and began to plow through the demons around him. Sure, the few of them that could move tried to either climb away on the bodies of those around them, while others tried to bite with needle-teeth or scratch with shapeshifted claws – but there simply wasn’t room to move… the pile was at least six neomah deep, with everyone pushing and shoving – and with Gift at the bottom it soon became a blender.

From the outside it was clear that there was demon blood flowing at the bottom of the pile, but at the same time the outmost demons were busy trying to seduce the unicorns holding up the wards into releasing them… so little heed was given by those on top to those of their kin deeper in the pile.

As minutes passed the wards miraculously held and the layer of blood at the bottom of the holding circle went from but a few drops deep to an inch or so, Speaker attained enlightenment: One of the principle functions of a machine is to function continuously, without stopping. With this wisdom he no longer needed to constantly will Gift to function as it simply remained static while blending the demon flesh and bone around it, new demons flowing into its deadly reach constantly as they were pushed away by the others who tried to flee to no avail, Gift cutting through them effortlessly thanks to Speaker’s spirit-slaying charm enhancing its blades.

It was quite disgusting – the muffled screams of dying demons mixing with the even unluckier few of them that ended up drowning in the blended remains of their kin, but at the same time the demons’ complete disregard for the wellbeing of their peers in favor of their own immediate survival made the whole process run like clockwork.

Ultimately there enough room inside the circle was made that the blender tactic didn’t work anymore – and strangely enough then the remaining neomah were now quite upset about Speaker having destroyed their kin, though they first had to shapeshift longer limbs to stand above the otherwise neck-deep broth of demon blend.

At this point the neomah began to breathe emerald fire at Speaker, but the few times they managed to hit their flames weren’t not strong enough to overcome his defensive charms, most of the time – and their flesh still yielded to Speaker and his spirit-slaying charm without fail, resulting in Speaker getting only minor burns from the fight.

With less than a few dozen demons left several unicorns leapt into the warded circle, their horns aglow and daiklaives poised to strike – including Ruby with her hooves wreathed in razor stone, and Drip-Crank wielding a jade staff with a massive gem set at the tip. It wasn’t even remotely a fair fight, more akin to hunting for sport. The demons certainly didn’t enjoy it, though between the shrieks of dying demons they didn’t have much room to voice such objections.

About ten minutes later, the last two neomah demons slumped lifelessly against the invisible wall projected by the wards, as Gift’s rotating blades cut through them – Gift erupting through the belly of the second one in a fountain of purple gore and blood.

Ponies with casks, essence-powered pumps and hoses made out of alchemically treated leather arrived shortly thereafter, beginning to pump out the demon-blood out over a rough grate first and then a fine filter, so bits of shredded demon wouldn’t clog anything. It didn’t surprise Speaker that Valkhawsen had cleanup protocols for messes like this, though the efficiency of it did impress him.

With the wards thusly lowered down to the point that only four unicorns were needed to maintain the spell, keeping the ward-wall only high enough to keep in the remaining blood and gore sloshing around, Speaker finally leapt out.

The ponies outside the ward gave Speaker many a nod of respectful acknowledgement – indeed, few of even Lookshy’s best would have been able to remain calm if buried three layers deep in demons, let alone kill most of them and come out relatively unscathed.

Returning to the Headmaster’s office, Speaker gave Drip-Crank the remains of the iron orb. They were twisted and broken, and their insides still glowed with an infernal emerald light, but they had no power now.

“Thank you – these will make an interesting addition to the academy’s exhibition on dangerous artifacts. Now, I asked you to come back here because I have to ask you exactly how you disassembled my prosthetics…” Drip-Crank began.

“Why? Speaker quickly asked, not really seeing any reason to wax on how exactly he had taken the headmaster’s jade prosthetics.
Presenting Speaker with a neat pile of bits of jade gears, rods, plates and bolts, Drip-Crank explained that the sum was greater than the parts – and unless taken apart carefully the bits and pieces could well have lost some of the magic imbued into them, which was what made them work like real hooves and legs and whatnot.

Shrugging, Speaker said that he had no idea if his disassembly damaged any of the parts: “Only one way to find out I guess”
Swinging a hoof over the pile, Speaker casually enacted his repair and crafting charms at the thing – the gears and rods springing to life in a golden glow as they slid back into place, in seconds recombining into all of the previous disassembled prosthetics without Speaker even having to give much thought to guiding his essence in the process – for a Solar craftspony was peerless, assuming that he knew the right charms.

Ruby and Drip-Crank both looked absolutely awestruck, but then Drip-Crank suddenly reached for his right eye and cried out in pain… apparently the magical link between the gem-eye and Drip-Crank was conflicting with his new right eye – the solution was a swift disassembly of the eye prosthetic once more.

With the revelation that Speaker could repair things with so little effort Drip-Crank quickly presented Speaker with a dinner-plate sized sapphire lens. It had a big ugly crack in it: “We’ve tried all kinds of known sorcery to fix it – but it’s magically hardened, so nothing we’ve done works on it – and it’s the last one Lookshy has. Without this we’ll have to retire the essence cannon that this was in”

Examining the lens it was clear to Speaker that the damage was very fresh – less than a few days old. Indeed, he was told that the crack had come from firing the essence canon it was set in at the mega-rebel – and sapphires of that size simply didn’t exist anymore: “Well, for all we know they might be mining gems of this size down south around Gem, but they likely cut them into smaller ones to sell each of them for a better price” Ruby noted.

To Drip-Cranks absolutely ecstatic joy Speaker’s repair charm fixed the lens almost instantly, the crack pulling together as it had never been there.

“You know… we have a lot of broken things in storage that we simply don’t have any spare parts for…” Drip-Crank said, failing horribly at veiling his request for more repair charm work.

Giving the headmaster a knowing nod, Speaker smiled: “I will gladly help – but I will require two things in exchange for it…”

“Anything – The general staff will be tripping over themselves to contract you to fix everything once they learn of this” Drip-Crank eagerly stated, his professional and otherwise sophisticated exterior having peeled away to reveal a pony who’s fascination with arcane science and strong patriotic leanings would have him do anything to restore the magical arsenal of Lookshy.