The Scroll of Exalted Ponies

A key part of special forces training is the art of deception. For example grunts can and will always be taught to march in locked step – but for the special forces, a discordant and non-rythmic trot is taught, to better mask their numbers. In many other ways Speaker had learned at least the basics when it came to face a foe with seemingly impenetrable defenses: You trap your foe in a situation where their defences do them no good, or even work to their detriment.

For Morning Dew, then Speaker had felt great weight when he had tossed the unicorn up into the air – the unicorn’s weight reflected the fact that his flesh was made magical bronze. Exploiting this, Speaker had played a deceptive tune with his singing staff, employing a deceptive cadence. This had created a hollow spike to draw Morning Dew’s attention and defenses, but had also hollowed out the ground under the spike.

Just before impact with the spike, Morning Dew put a desperate shield spell – though casting anything while tumbling through the air was quite difficult – and at first the spell seemed to work, as the spike seemed to crumble and yield as he fell down at it.

For Speaker, seeing the weak shield plowing through the hollow spike would mean that Morning Dew wouldn’t get as stuck in the ruble as his plan required – but there was a simple solution: Throwing Gift, Speaker forced Morning Dew to direct his defenses elsewhere, lest he be thrown around once more by Gift's impact – or at that was at least the implied threat that Speaker wanted Morning Dew to react on.

His shield diverted, the crumbling stone spike was now crushed against Morning Dew’s very bronze flesh, his humble immaculate robes ripping and tearing as they were put between the rocks and the hard place that was Morning Dew’s ensorcelled body.

It all happened in but a few seconds, but Morning Dew plowed down through the spike without deviation, slamming into the ground hard a bit slower than terminal velocity due to the hollow spike having broken part of his fall – but then again the ground was hollowed out as well to give way, absorbing much of the remainder of his fall… but also burying the priest quite effectively.

Speaker hurried to bring about his singing staff to properly encase Morning Dew, liquefying the rock around the unicorn and then hardening it, so that he would be properly stuck – and of course moving his stuck body up so that his head was the only thing above ground…

This didn’t go exactly as planned: From the debris the giant clawed limb of a wood dragon sprouted, flailing wildly as Morning Dew tried to pull himself up by his enchanted forelimb. Racing against time as Morning Dew began to haul himself out of the debris, Speaker hastily played his singing staff to flow rock up to encase the unicorn – but there were limits to how much rock the singing staff could move that quickly, so this strategy quickly failed.

The limit for moving around dirt though, was less so – and thus Speaker was able to pile dirt on Morning Dew until he ran out of breath, passing out from suffocation.

The instant Morning Dew relinquished his struggle and consciousness Speaker double-checked with his medical charms: It could be a ruse – but no, he was passed out inside the mound of tightly compacted dirt around him.

Using his singing staff to extract Morning Dew and ensure that he would be able to wake up again, Speaker searched Spellward’s remains for a pair of those magical shackles… he didn’t have any. This presented a bit of an issue: How to prevent Morning Dew from trying to escape once he woke up again?

Looking around at the rubble of the now utterly wrecked house – it no longer merely a pile of rubble, tile and timbers from a demolished house, but now most of it was on fire as well. Spotting some cast iron cookwear, Speaker used his crafting charms to refashions bits and bobs from the rubble into a suitably escape-proof getup that he fitted onto Morning Dew. This wasn’t particularly difficult: Morning Dew had apparently never been one for physical strength – so him breaking out of these shackles wasn’t going to happen any time soon and the helmet Speaker fashioned out of ablative layers of spun ceramic and bronze fibers should keep Morning Dew from being able to use his horn without first having to slowly work through the thing.

As the last of the dust settled Sunrise approached, a dozen or so foals too young for school following her: “Is it over?”

“No… there’s still figuring out how the hell Morning Dew managed to pull this off”

The foals were shocked to see Morning Dew, their friendly neighborhood priest, tied up with metal and… dinner plates? Speaker began to play his singing staff to move earth over the burning rubble, to prevent the fire from spreading, Sunrise began to sing along to the mournful tone as each flame was reduced to an ember, only to be fully smothered by fresh cold dirt. This display of strange magical powers and song was more than enough to distract the foals, causing them to simply sit down and enjoy the show.

Once done, his singing staff stored elsewhere, Speaker remarked that he was both surprised and happy that Sunrise could remember that particular tune: “I don’t even remember what name the song has… I just remembered that it was good for putting out fires, but it sure was pretty”

“Dying Light, I believe it was called” Sunrise said with a smile.

Speaker found it difficult to return the gesture, as he looked at the corpse of Spellward – which he had strategically obscured with a thin shell of rock to avoid the foals freaking out over it: “If only Lookshy was that pretty now”

“I’m sure the damages can be fixed, and the dead put to rest honorably” Sunrise said in a comforting tone.

Shaking his head, Speaker felt tired: “The Lookshy I remember from my youth is dead. No, it never existed. It’s ugly and full of ponies both full of themselves and too prideful to see crap like this coming”

“You make it sound as if Lookshy is beyond repair. Why not work to better it, to make it into that idealized version you have in your mind?” Sunrise said, evidently able to still see a positive outcome of the situation.

Taking a deep breath and turning to Sunrise, who’s very shining caste mark seemed to radiate a calming aura, Speaker nodded: “Alright. But like I said, then this is far from over… there are probably still a lot of ponies out there who believe the lies that Morning Dew spread. We’ll need to steel ourselves and be vigilant”

Indeed, over the next few days, as several priests turned themselves in after whatever charms Morning Dew had put on them to talk them into instigating the riots, an official investigation was launched.

A second parallel investigation was also launched, led by Speaker and the circle, on the condition that they relay any findings to the martial staff – so they could compare the results with the official investigation.

“Unofficially…” Yushoto Risotto groaned from her sickbed: “…then we have no fucking clue who was in on this with Morning Dew. He clearly disrupted the intercity messengers, the justicars, somehow made the garrisons around the city and in the port citadel not respond. Hell, the entire barracks district had been vacated on bogus orders for an exercise just south of the city! I want to know how that little shit pulled this off!”

For the circle’s investigation Sunrise probed the remaining Sohei. Many of them had already come forth and admitted that they had, on Morning Dew’s orders, instigated riots – but there was a very plain reason for this: Being immaculate priests they had all been trained at Passiap’s Stairs, the grand temple of the immaculate dragons on the Blessed Isle. Indeed, they were all native to the Blessed Isle and the realm, freely (and in more than one case proudly and defiantly) admitting that they had thought that this had been an attempt to install a realm-friendly theocracy to rule the city. Clearly they had been deceived as much as everyone else – though they weren’t escaping punishment either, being banished from Lookshy and all Lookshy-friendly territories, and being put on the first ship back to the Blessed Isle.
Meanwhile the official investigation floundered: False orders had seemingly come from no-where, many claiming to have received them via magical messengers which weren’t possible to trace, and the messengers who had delivered false information claimed to merely have delivered what had been given to them – at least according to the official investigation. Justicars and garrison commanders similarly excused themselves with having acted in good faith and on orders they had not seen reason to doubt or question.

The overall mood in the city was approaching ciritical mass: The martial staff had ordered all but the most agregrious rioters pardoned, but those still under arrest were passing their blame to the priests – who had already passed their blame again. The ponies of Lookshy wanted someone to blame: Those who had been loyal to the martial staff throughout the ordeal wanted all responsible punished, while those still not convinced of the general staff being of free will clamored for more conclusive evidence or full pardons to everyone – fights were breaking out everywhere, and the justicars were having trouble keeping the peace, especially as among the justicars opinions and loyalties were evidently just as divided… there just wasn’t any conclusive pattern as to why.

It was Cash Charmer’s investigation into Morning Dew’s that revealed the actual way that the coup had been set up – or at least how Morning Dew had gained the ear of so many co-conspirators: Initially upon review of Morning Dew’s destroyed household – especially after Speaker, at Cash’s request, used his charms to fully restore the place – Cash concluded that there was a big discrepancy in Morning Dew’s home and humble lifestyle, compared to how muc h money the Seventh Legion was paying him.

Apparently then his knowledge of restricted sorcery, including demon summoning, as well as other spells and charms that aided in general spirit management, meant that Morning Dew had been one of Lookshy’s chief exorcists as well as an often used consultant to the Operations Directorate when it came to dealing with spirits and gods – and all of that had meant that Morning Dew had been paid quite handsomely.

Tracking all that money on the other hand, that was rather difficult: The Legion Bank wasn’t particularly cooperative when it came to giving Cash access to Morning Dew’s financial records – even with Cash’s authorization from the martial staff – enough ponies in Lookshy knew that Cash was a Solar just like Speaker that few would willingly deal with him, for all that most ponies knew were the rumors of Speaker and his circle being connected somehow to the coup and assassination attempt on the martial staff. It of course didn’t help that the ponies still either loyal or just siding with Morning Dew kept those rumors alive and flourishing.

Despite all that, then Morning Dew’s payment records pointed to several secondary schools, dojos and salons in the district of schools. Poking around at them revealed an interesting fact: Morning Dew was currently paying for about seven dozen ponies who were taking classes or otherwise receiving tutelage there.

“So… he’s being charitable with his money? He’s a priest, aren’t they all supposed to do that?” Sunrise said as an offhand remark. Having spent several days trying to talk her way into Lookshy’s most religious communities had evidently tired her.

Whirling up a small tornado of documents with his essence, frayed scrolls and ledgers Cash sought out older records from the same district connected to Morning Dew. With a zen-like precision Cash snatched a worn book out of the whirl, letting the rest settle down again on the large table before him.

Speaker shot Cash a curious glance from across the room, sitting in a nice recliner by a large window overlooking the small garden in front of the town house the circle had rented in Speakers name, now that he had been ‘promoted’ to citizen: “Anything interesting”

“Yes, I think I finally got it… sort of – Dew didn’t leave nearly as much of a papertrail as I would have liked” Cash grumbled, deep furrows having spread over his forehead, the locks of his mane only partially obscuring them.

The circle assembled around Cash, as he presented his findings: “Ok, so he did his ‘charity’ thing, right? Well, he didn’t write to what he gave to, only how much…”

Pointing to the worn ledger he had picked out of the while moments earlier, Cash continued: “This is a list of fees from the Legion Bank. Delivery fees for bringing around money – though they don’t say what the money is from. These documents over here, financial records from the few dojos and salons that still had records with his name on it, match those sums, as payment for lessons that other ponies received. That’s how he pulled this off!”

Speaker looked at Cash incredulously: “So… his charity was paying for training and remedial schooling to various ponies?”
Shimmer and Sunrise couldn’t see the big picture either.

Cash pointed intently to the bank ledger: “There are records here dating back almost a hundred years with his name on it for this stuff – similar sums when adjusted for inflation, delivered once a month for periods for either a few seasons at a time to some being paid for years. Speaker, you tell me who takes this kind of classes..”

Skimming over the salon and dojo financial records for payments from Morning Dew, Speak used a charm to quickly absorb the knowledge in them: “This pattern… it’s hard to tell, but advanced mixed unit tactics, entry level magical martial arts, logistics and management… they’re never being taken at the same time, but if you combine all of these then this is the kind of stuff you learn when you start in the officer academy, but he’s also paid for lessons in arcane science, applied thaumaturgy and alchemy… that’s for sorcery students”

Looking around at the rest of the circle, seeing that the dinar hadn’t quite dropped yet, Cash explained: “So, when a young officer-in-the-making, or sorcerer-student comes to a priest, seeking help due to stress because she’s failing classes… the helpful priest offers to pay for extra tutoring, free of charge – or perhaps in exchange for a future favor?”

“Wait… he’s been doing that for almost a hundred years? Just how many officers in the Seventh Legion owe their career to him?” Speaker blurted out, horrified of the implication of this realization.

Cash shrugged: “No clue – a lot of the masters that have run the dojos and salons in the District of Schools take their records with them when they retire. I only have a patchwork of records, but more than enough to establish a pattern of this kind of ‘charity’, plus the bank’s records are spotless”

“He doesn’t help everybody” Sunrise noted, adding that of what little she was able to get out of the other immaculate priests, then Morning Dew would often turn hopeful charity-cases away… the other priests would refer those in need to him, but they said he was always a stern judge of character”

Shimmer chortled derisively: “Sure – he’s been cherry-picking who gets to become an officer, seeding the legion with ponies in dept to him”
“Correct – also, you’re still drooling” Cash quickly pointed out.

Wiping her mouth, Shimmer tried to smile – but it wasn’t easy: Having a sorcerer blow up in her unarmored mouth had left her severely burnt and now quite numb. Speaker had done what he could, but Shimmer’s body and soul needed time to regenerate from such massive trauma.

With more or less conclusive evidence on how Morning Dew had been able to influence young sorcerers and legion officers, the only big question was what to do with those very ponies. Due to the lack of records from many of the dojos and salons it would be impossible to track everyone who benefited from Morning Dew’s help…

“That would only be an issue if all the ponies the priest helped weren’t still loyal to Lookshy” a familiar voice said out of nowhere.

Everyone looked around in confusion. Had the Security Directorate sent an agent to spy on them? Was it Heath Rose? The voice was difficult to pin down… but as the illusion veiling the pony who had spoken receded the circle rejoiced.

Before the circle stood a brown and mottled grey-coated pony clad in a fine white uniform. Holstered on his left was a white jade rollin pin, on his right a cleaver of gleaming orichalcum and on his head an angular segmented orichalcum mask encasing his entire head.

“Sully!” the circle erupted.

Detaching his helmet, revealing his horribly burnt and somewhat melty-looking face, Sullen Hoof asked that the circle keep going.

“Uhm… ok – so what did you mean with the ponies and being loyal to Lookshy” Cash asked tentatively, barely able to hold back his joy at the thought of soon being able to try Sully’s sublime cooking.

The night caste Solar explained that for the last few days his observations and profiling charms had told him that Morning Dew’s work wasn’t really malicious: “The ponies he picked to help were ones he judged to be the most selfless, the ones most willing to put their loyalty to Lookshy as a whole above themselves. Sure, he played on that same loyalty to convince those ponies that the rulers here needed to go, but he did it all for Lookshy… in that sense his intentions were quite benign – it was you lot showing up and wooing the martial staff that made him feel that he had to take action, lest Lookshy fall from the grace of the dragons”

“So… are you’re implying that the ponies he helped aren’t a threat? Are you kidding? Did you see what they did here?” Shimmer blurted out, her numb mouth making her words sound a tad drunk.

Elaborating, Sully noted that with Morning Dew busted the debts owed him would effectively be forfeit: “That way your problem solves itself”
“Maybe… it’ll need to be combined with a public awareness campaign targeting legion officers and Lookshy’s sorcerers, simply to make them aware that they owe Morning Dew nothing and that they should report anyone trying to exploit them like that in the future” Speaker added.
Cash looked impressed at Speaker’s suggestion, nodding: “I’ll add that in our report. I’m sure the martial staff will love to see this”

Later that evening, as helot work crews swept the streets of the last bits of trash and debris from the riots, the circle celebrated Sully’s return at the Yushoto compound. Risotto, Boribap and everyone else who got to try Sully’s cooking for the first time wept tears of while, while the compound cook staff prostrated themselves before Sullen Hoof, begging to learn the secrets of his culinary arts.

Later on after dinner Sully regaled the circle with stories of his adventures in the underworld. They were grand, filled with danger, lies, epic adventures, daring assassinations of Deathlord minions and intense duels with Abyssal Deathknights… but that’s for a different scroll of Exalted ponies.

Over the next week Lookshy recovered from the riots, and quiet inquiries were made regarding who had received what kind of help from Morning Dew – and rumors quickly spread that officers and sorcerers who refused to step forward and admit such themselves would be barred from future promotions if discovered to be hiding such things. For what was obviously completely unrelated reasons, about five dozen high ranking legion officers and five legion sorcerers resigned their commissions in this period as well, with no questions about why being asked officially.

During the same period the martial staff was given the circle’s report on the Deathlords and their activities, Sullen Hoof having learned quite a lot while in and around Stygia. This led to the fateful meeting that Cash had originally requested, the plan being for the circle to petition the Seventh Legion to aid in destroying Deep Rot.

The council chambers were dimly lit, with thick curtains drawn to keep prying eyes out. Glowing wards of privacy prevented magical scrying were set on the walls, and the martial staff as a whole appeared skeptical.

“And this information on Deep Rot is up to date?” Taimyo Maheka Feldspar wondered, her face clearly displaying her dislike of the idea of any kind of military action in the underworld.

Sullen Hoof’s intelligence on Deep Rot had been compiled just days before he had left for Creation. According to him then the Barbate Arbiter was maybe six or seven months from completing the final design calculations of the Eschaton Key – and to make matters worse, then once they were done then the actual making of the key would only be a matter of days.

“…and then what? I read your report, but do you honestly expect us believe that some gizmo made in the underworld can doom all of Creation?” Taimyo Karal Linseed inquired, knowing plenty about the most advanced magical weapons currently available in Creation as she was the commander of Lookshy’s special forces – but a thing that would make the sun explode? That was too implausible for her.

“We understand your apprehension, but we have several individuals prepared who would speak to the truth of our claims” Cash explained, Speaking earnestly.

The unicorns looked curiously at the circle in anticipation of who they would call in, as the circle yielded the floor…

At first there was a swirl of dust, then several sets of funeral garbs materialized along with spectral ravens sitting on the shouters of the garbs that caved wildly. Such was the complete coverage of the funerary robes and veils that they completely obscured the nature of the being inside – if there even was anything – for the being quickly announced its presence, the spectral ravens falling silent: “I am Hran-Tzu, The Raven King, god of Decay. The ponies who stand before you are righteous and has through my authority in Yu-Shan been charged with combating the scourge of the undead, for it is an affront to my part in the eternal cycle of reincarnation. I have vetted the information they have gathered and found it true through my own heavenly agents. To this end I demand that you assist these Solars in their ambition to put an end to Deep Rot”

The god thus from view again before anyone could get an wor din edge-wise, leaving only dust and echoes of caving ravens.

The martial staff looked… suitably shocked. To be visited by a celestial divinity… few unicorns would even dare dream of such an honor. Though because of this surprise the impact of what the circle had lined up next was somewhat lessened.

Stepping forth from the immaterial, clad in moonsilver-laced black jade armor so magical and divine that it was truly difficult to see where the armor ended and the star-studded night-flesh that the goddess within the armor was wrought of began.

Hushed whispers broke out throughout the room, both among the armigers at the door and the martial staff, for this was Tien Yiu – goddess of Lookshy.

With a metallic mane of silver, gleaming like a thousand spear-tips, and pale green eyes, Tien Yu spoke softly with a whisper: “Lookshy’s fate is dear to me – and I can say only this: As all things must eventually come to an end, so must Lookshy one day…”

There were worried murmurs among the martial staff as Tien Yu seemingly paused to let the gravity of her statement sink in.
“…but if this Deathlord’s work is terminated, and the daystar remains as is, then Lookshy will stand for the time being. If not, then Lookshy will not see its next calibration” the goddess prophesized.

For the next minute few minutes, one could have heard a pin drop, such was the eerie silence as Tien Yu faded to return to her godly duties, manging the spiritual nature of Lookshy.

“Did we mention that Deep Rot is fueled by kidnapped ponies who’s brains and eyes are put into jars there? Thousands upon thousands of them?” Cash finally added, trying to add outrage to the shock of this prophecy of doom.

Taimyo Karal Linseed nodded: “You did, though personally I find your claim that this Deep Rot installation is aiding The Mask of Winters more interesting”

Sunrise bowed her head in a very slow nod: “Indeed. We have been told by underworld sources and survivors of the process, that most ghosts that form here in the east are initially captured by the Mask of Winters and interrogated. Of course, such a vast operation generates thousands of knowledge reports, many of them useless. These documents are fed to Deep Rot, using its many minds to sift through the information and generate useful intelligence reports. Destroying Deep Rot would thus also greatly impede his operations”

It was no secret that Lookshy – and the rest of Creation – was a lot more worried about the Mask of Winters than any other Deathlord, mainly because to most then the Mask of Winters was the only Deathlord known to exist. For Lookshy, being so close to Thorns, then worries about what this lord of the undead would do next after having conquered lands so close to them, were a lot more pressing than that of strange machinasions by unknown entitites further afield… though distance-wise, then Deep Rot was actually closer to Lookshy than Thorns – but Deep Rot was purely set in the underworld, while Thorns still existed in Creation, albeit as a shadowland.

Ultimately the martial staff asked for time to deliberate. They made it clear that circle had presented a frightful case that would require the weighing of quite a lot of pros and cons.

Outside the council chambers, as the circle waited, there was a continuous stampede of messengers going to and fro, as intelligence reports, arsenal inventory ledgers and the likes were being called into the council chambers. At one point Boribap, acting as aid to Risotto, popped out – he looked frazzled.

“How’s it going in there” Speaker asked hopefully from the bench he was sitting on.

The unicorn wiped his brow, his pale green military style short-cropped mane looking as if it was ready to wilt, with his green uniform being just about the only thing on him that looked proper: “Look, I can’t talk about that just yet – they’re still…”

Cash shot Boribap a brief look that wordlessly communicated: “You know that we know how you were complicit in Morning Dew’s coup”
After a nervous shiver, Boribap complied: “…it’s the salt. We can’t tell if it’ll be possible to get enough salt to secure ourselves while in the underworld”

“That doesn’t make any sense – Creation’s biggest salt producer is just at the other end of the river of tears from Lookshy. You can get enough salt there to drown out every shadowland in Creation if you wanted!” Cash admonished, rejecting the notion that such a petty hindrance should hinder the Seventh Legion.

Boribap groaned and rubbed his eyes: “Look, our latest reports from the north say that the Bull made a move on the Saltispire league. The guild’s reports say the same. There have been no salt-barges coming down the river of tears for well over a month”

“Hold on – you’re saying this a recent development? Because to our knowlegde the Bull has held the biggest city of the saltspire league for well over a year at this point” Speaker said, recalling that back when the circle had asked the Bull for help with their little mind-controlling Deathknight issue he had mentioned Plenilune and some assassins causing trouble or something.

It didn’t appear to surprise Boribap that much that the circle knew well of the Bull, but sadly he knew little beyond what he had already said.
“Very well. Is that the only big hang-up the martial staff has about committing to this?” Sunrise asked from out under her hood.
Thinking for a moment, Boribap noted: “More or less. They’re of course talking about potential losses and how much this operation will reduce Lookshy’s overall arsenal, but they seemed fairly optimistic about that – but I think they’ll want to work those details out with you directly once they’re-”

There was a knock on the door. Boribap sighed: “Ok, they want me back – they’ll probably call you in shortly”
Indeed, a few hours later the circle and the martial staff had worked out a deal, of a sort: The main issue was indeed getting enough salt to secure the path back to the Mourning Fields shadowland, as well as to secure whatever siege-camp that might be necessary to set up around Deep Rot.

Regarding this salt issue the circle promised to travel north and confer with the Bull and restore the salt supply. If this was done expediently, then the martial staff promised swore – though not in any capacity that Cash was allowed to sanctify – to commit the first first and third field force to the assault on Deep Rot, though they also judged based on the circle’s report that if the other Deathlords, the Mask of Winters in particular, were so invested in the continued aid of Deep Rot to their operations, then they would likely intervene and assist as well, to which end the second field would also need to be on stand-by to intercept any.

Now, this massive committal of forces would mean that it would take a while to retrieve and ready them all, to which end an excuse was needed as explained by Taimyo Linseed: “Activating three legions at once is rarely done – I don’t even remember we last rounded up two legions here at once… it will be obvious to anyone that we’ll be gearing up for something big – we will need a plausible reason to bring this many forces to Lookshy”

Risotto, looking sly, inquired: “When was the last time the Lookshy Games were held?”

As far as Speaker could remember, then the last time the games were held was about four years prior to Thorn’s trying to invade the scavenger lands – and that was about fifteen years ago…

For Lookshy, the games was a grand sport and cultural event where contenders from all over Creation could come and compete, provided that one could qualify. For obvious reasons the games had a strong martial bent, with quite a few fighting tournaments in all maner of disciplines, as well as spectacular war-games where contenders in the games would lead Lookshyan troops in mock battles. The only catch was that Lookshy only held these games in times of – relative to the hundred kingdoms – peace, so if the Intelligence Directorate warned that the Realm was marshalling its legions for an invasion, or if a large gathering of barbarian tribes were raiding up from the far south-east, then there would be nice games.

Most Lookshyan ponies considered themselves lucky if they got to see more than two of such events in their lifetimes – this would be Speaker’s third.

Another common and popular feature of the games would be the many parades and public demonstration of first age weapons – this would be used to veil the activation of the first and third legion to combat readiness. The second field force was already stationed at Lookshy, as it usually was, doing exercises and waiting for dispatch orders, it being Lookshy’s primary frontline field force – and since Lookshy wasn’t at war with anyone at the moment... officially… then it was simply waiting for something happen.

There were of course millions of other things that would need to be set up. Food and water supplies that wouldn’t spoil when taken into the underworld would have be arranged – no small feat by any standard – and inventory of the Seventh Legion’s hearthstone supply would also be needed, since only the abyssal exalted could respire essence in the underworld, less all the unicorns in the forces going to Deep Rot run out of essence to power their charms, which would be bad in so many ways.

For the circle the priority was securing salt for the campaign: Ghosts cannot cross lines of salt, and ordinary material ponies cannot strike immaterial ghosts… but immaterial war ghosts can strike material targets – so salt would be critical to keep lines secure, both of the supple and battle variety.

“So… that just leaves us with the two small matters we discussed earlier, but the rest of you are free to leave” Maheka Feldspar noted as the rest of the martial staff began to pack up their scrolls and whatever other documents might have been put out before them for the discussions.

Cash looked curious: There weren’t any other topics on the official docket and the scribes taking notes of what was being said were leaving – what did they want to talk about off the record?

Once the scribes, as well most of the staff were gone, leaving only Feldspar, Risotto and a few guards – as well as the circle – things were explained:

“We figured you would like to know the fate of Teresu Morning Dew, seeing as your investigation weighed heavily on our judgement” Taimyo Feldspar explained, sounding just a tad non-plussed.

Nodding, Speaker briefly looked at the rest of the circle: Cash appeared eager, Shimmer looked pleased with herself, while Sunrise’s face was shrouded in shadows due to her hood – and Sully was off giving lessons to some Lookshyan chefs.

Risotto cleared her throat, her voice a tad raspy: “We have reviewed the Sohei’s actions and your quite thorough analysis of his motives behind them, as well as compared them to established protocols on the subject. It has been decided that Morning Dew will not be punished for his actions related to the attempted coup”

“What?!” Speaker burst out.

Shimmer looked furious, while Cash simply awaited Risotto’s elaboration. The Taimyo gave Cash a knowing nod, recognizing that he had seen that there was more to it.

“Calm yourself Master Bright. For repeated conspiracy to and attempted murder of your person, as well as the forging of orders which resulted in the death of four elite rangers, Morning Dew was given the option of either a public denouncement followed by an equally public execution, or an honorable death by seppuku in the privacy of his family home” Risotto elaborated, sounding pleased in a quite sinister fashion that she had been able to force this pony she had despised so, to commit ritual suicide.