Dearest Journal

Canterlot Village, at the Base of Canterlot Mountain; It’s much nicer than I thought it would be, I shouldn’t have skipped visiting so many times…

Dearest Journal,

Canterlot Village is the quintessential small town outside a big city- just far enough to not be worth making a suburb of the city itself, but not so far that ponies who work in the city but can’t afford to live there can’t make the commute. It’s a village of rolling foothills and pretty rowhouses.

A place of blue saddlebags and heavy collars. I can understand why I skipped visiting before; it’s too much like Trottingham.

Trottingham is a small village of maybe eighteen hundred head, and that means… well, consider this. Growing up, green through bridle grade school had an overall enrollment of about one hundred ponies. I have almost no interests in common with the ponies I grew up with- the only thing I really paid attention to was the weather, because it changes what the bees do- and everyone on Trottingham pays attention to the weather. We have to, it’s an island in an uncolonized area- it’s rare to ever see pegasi in Trottingham.
That’s probably why I kept flirting with him, looking back- I like pegasi, I like their wings and the way their eyes are just a little bit bigger than most other ponies. I like that their coats and manes are just slightly greasy to the touch; I like the smell of their feathers, the length of their whiskers, the weird suction-y feeling of their hooves on my sweaty flanks…

There are almost no pegasi on Trottingham. What few there are mostly concern themselves with Militia business, Griffins, fishing, and sports. I like science, and art, history and mathematics; I read poetry and I work very hard every day. For me, growing up… I didn’t really make genuine friends.

I was under the impression that I was just weird, and not really part of the herd- right up until I started correspondence school with my Aunt Ravel’s encouragement. She and Auntie Zipper put me in contact with a number of ponies- I signed myself up for penpals all across the world in an effort to learn different languages, I got several jobs for magazines and printing companies, and once I’d saved up enough, I went off to see the world.

The world is big, and beautiful- more full of wonders than I can describe here but briefly. Did you know, Journal, that Golia is called the Cradle of Equinity? I can believe it- something about that sea of grass, caught between two rivers and so near the sea… I felt quite as if I could see forever, as if I could run forever. My Golian penfriend, Moda, let me stay with her for a month. I’d never felt more welcomed anywhere- not even at my home in Trottingham, which, supposedly, was meant to be the most welcoming place I could be.
Home is where your heart is- but my heart hasn’t been in Trottingham for a good long time, moreso after I met Tristan than before.
I’ve got it on my list- before I’m finished, I’m going to go to Mareseille, and I’m going to see all the beautiful things Tristan told me about in our conversations.

I swear I will.

But- truly, I did think I wasn’t particularly likeable until I started making penfriends.

There are pros and cons to living in a large village. Crime is almost never something to worry about, and you can forget to lock your door- or even leave the keys in the lock on the outside for hours on end. It’s safe for foals to wander around on their own, and everypony looks out for each other. The school is small, and classes are usually about twenty or so, meaning any foal will get a lot of attention. The area tends to be fairly rural; one only needs to walk for a ten or twenty minutes to be surrounded by fields and woodland park.
And if you move to a large village, you’ll always be an incomer to most ponies. I wasn’t actually born in Trottingham; I’m not, as so many took such pains to remind me, actually from Trottingham. I didn’t make any real deep friendships there- well, except for Lami, but she doesn’t exactly count as she’s also marked ‘outsider’. I had to go to Griffinstone Pleasant to do my shopping, which wasn’t much bigger than Trottingham but so much friendlier- and if I wanted decent selection in the shops, I had to go much further west.
Large villages, in some ways, are perfect for what I want- a safe place to raise a foal- but I truly doubt my foal will want to stay in a village. As soon as they become an adult… what will there be for them? Who will be their friend?

...Who will be mine? It’s not enough to have a cousin- I need friends of my own, too. Maybe I should move to Vanhoover, even if it’s so expensive and the weather reminds me of all the worst parts of Trottingham…

Guilds have existed since Roamin’ times, and possibly even earlier- the Roaming Herds were the first surviving instance of a culture of ponies that had a written language; they were preceded by numerous cultures around the world. Linguists have traced folktales, colt and filly stories, myths, legends, and even certain nursing rhymes back much further, back to when ponies had more than one toe-bone in our hooves- that’s several thousand years. The Great Clamour only eradicated about a hundred years or so of history; and there was quite a lot it simply couldn’t touch. Chaos and Order are matters of perspective.

A guild is an association of craftsmen, artisans, or skilled labourers who share a common skill or profession. The guilds that emerged out of Unified Ponyland helped shape the feudal system that was in place at the time by creating a skilled working class which consisted of free ponies with expertise in specialized trades. It’s not easy to do a number of things lots of ponies take for granted- cooking, baking, making candles, rugs, charcoal, parchment, quills and sofas… all of these things and quite a few more require extensive training to make a pony who can even attempt their production. To make a pony who’s good at making these things, you need a pony who’s been well trained to train them- often for five or six generations. (If you want a good archer, you start with the grandsire.)

The guilds, and the unions that grew out of them, give commoners enough clout to thrive in a society where knights, dames, and the nobility hold most of the power. The farmer, the baker, and the candlestick maker of that famous nursing rhyme were undoubtedly all guild members.

A very significant aspect of guilds is the apprenticeship system. A master craftspony- like Frank Starbuck, as an example- agrees to take on a filly or a colt as an apprentice, usually after they’ve gotten their cutie mark. The yearling would live with the master, and the yearling’s parents are expected to pay for their training- not their room and board, but the master’s time, and supplies for the yearling, are supposed to be paid for by the parents. Things have changed quite a bit in recent years- for one, the government now matches parental fees, or even exceeds them in certain circumstances. For another, the master craftspony has to go through foster parent certification, to ensure that they’ll provide proper care and housing to their prospective students. A yearling and a fully grown pony are not the same at all- and though Carrot and Fern were stunningly mature in a lot of ways, they were both still children in a lot more. Finally, and most importantly, the apprentice owns what they produce, and are to be credited for what they work on- meaning, if they win a prize for something they make, they keep the prize money; if they work on a production piece, they are to be paid like any other working pony; and if they make an innovative design, they get most of the royalties for their work.

These funds are kept and managed by the master craftspony, and part of their job is to teach their apprentice how to care for their money. As the apprenticeship lasts for ten years or more, this allows for deep personal bonds to form; and it allows the yearling time and space to grow up, make mistakes, and change in a relatively safe environment that isn’t with their parents.

Once an apprenticeship is over, the apprentice becomes a Journeypony and can now work for a direct wage. That journeypony will then save up their wages to buy or set up a shop of their own, and work to complete their guild’s requirements to become a master craftspony.

I belong to the International Guild of Spellweavers and Clothiers, Journal- they’re combined because so many of the woven spells can be translated into embroidered stitches in clothing, and are useful either way. Oh, yes- international guilds.

Membership in a guild is required in order for a pony to do business in a region- the guild will handle your licensing and various fees, and as they set prices and standards for their member’s products, the quality of a guild-verified producer is guaranteed. Guilds also protect any secrets of their particular trade- in my case, where to get some of the things I use for my creations, certain color mixes, certain spells… Guilds also take on civic duties, such as caring for widows, orphans, and sick members. Guilds became unions during the Rise of the Commons; both guilds and unions will advocate for wage earners and service providers as well as craftsponies and artisans.
After all, you cannot demand a labor or service or product or art from somepony and then degrade them for providing you with it.

A guild will always have an enormous impact on the economy of the territory it covers. Whether that impact is beneficial is a topic of heated debate, even now. Still- it cannot be denied that guilds provide skilled workers in a variety of specialized fields, keep an economy healthy, and allow the working class to prosper.

These organizations can offer experience and resources to anypony willing to meet the requirements to join- and they can be an ally, a training ground, a proving field, a client; a competitor, an adversary, even the ultimate destructor. If the Guild of Fishers hadn’t based themselves in Griffonstone, Trottingham would have an atmosphere that’s friendly to pegasi. But they did; and Trottingham doesn’t.
In my cousin Ace Spade’s case, the Whitebeard Mercenary Company belongs to the Guild of Adventurers; neither bad nor good, and surprisingly in demand.

There’s a few things a guild needs to function properly.

Firstly, it needs a charter- the list of rules and values outlining the guild’s purpose and scope. The local government keeps track of all the guilds so as to keep taxes appropriate and ensure that their constituents are provided for in all needful areas- thus, every guild is required to have a charter on file with the various local, state, national, and international legal scribe files.

There are a few key elements that must be present with any well-written guild charter- and if you’re say, starting a school that teaches a trade, like, oh, spellweaving, taking a look at the necessary properties of a well-written guild charter is probably a good idea.

First, the name of the guild (school) must be listed. There aren’t many requirements for the name, and in most places it can be as creative as the guild would like it to be- but it can’t be anything illegal. No Thieves Guild (though such a thing has, historically, existed); if you put such a name on the charter and send it in, it almost certainly won’t be approved, and you’ll probably end up in jail.

Second, the main location of the guild (school) must be listed. This should be specific down to the city or village level; for example, it’s not good enough to say that your guild is located in the Barony of Blueblood, but it would be acceptable to say that your guild is located in the village of Canterlot (which is not the city of Canterlot), in the Barony of Blueblood. You can probably move your guild (school) later on if you need or want to, but such changes usually have to be approved before they can be actioned.

Third, the purpose of the guild should be listed. This requirement follows the same restrictions the guild name does- nothing illegal allowed. Essentially, when you’re forming a purpose for a guild or a school, you need to think about why you decided to start in the first place. Do you want to help others with your skills? Do you want to go adventuring? Did you want to provide a service? Any of these things can be a legitimate purpose for a guild; and teaching others how to do these things is a legitimate purpose for a school.

Fourth, the guild should have its own set of bylaws. These bylaws conform to the laws of the land in which the guild is chartered. Bylaws specify what requirements there are for membership, as well as what is required to remain in the guild. They may also specify any relevant items specific to the guild- ex. In Ace’s guild, there’s a bylaw about how spoils, treasures, and acquisitions are to be divided among the party.

Fifth, the guild should have provisions for the choosing and removal of guild officers. Guild officers are those below the guildmaster that help in the administration of the guild. Guild officers include assistant guildmasters- a pegasus named Marco Polo (he’s got a winged pineapple as a cutie mark, and there’s something distinctively… peacock-y about his wing-feathers); communication regulators- an earth pony called Ricecake Winterfield; cooks- a unicorn called Thatch, of all things; as well as guild scribes, outfitters (Icy Iron, a beautiful… unicorn. I know they’re a unicorn, and that’s about it), and so on. In most guilds, the officers are chosen either by the guildmaster (he really does have the largest, whitest mustache I’ve ever seen), or by a vote of the members of the guild. Guild officers are removed in much the same way, though of course each guild is free to create its own policy.

-I've lost the thread. Ah well, it will return to me eventually.

My cousin Ace is actually an Officer in his guild/mercenary company… or maybe I’ve completely misunderstood the equish I heard that day, it is not at all like trosh and I have to remember that- Ace Spade is the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Guild; and, so far as I’m aware, the Second Division is the Accountant’s Division. Ace is in charge of receipts and money- and, actually, just about every member of the Surprise clan is good with numbers. Yes, even Pinkie Pie, now that I consider it practically- she wouldn’t be able to throw as many parties as she does, and have them be as good as they always are, if she wasn’t so good at accounting.

I noticed on our ride up to Canterlot that Ace has a very long mane for a stallion, almost as long as a mares; and that he really has no idea what to do with it. When I was at the wainwrights, getting my vardo, I bought a set of eight two-pronged hair combs off one of the junior apprentices. They’re beechwood, sealed with a mane-safe oil I have in my vardo and carefully inset with the Gems of Harmony: Agate for Honesty; Pink Opal for Kindness; Pietersite for Joy; Red Ruby for Generosity; Sapphire (Blue Ruby) for Loyalty; Yellow Turquoise for Friendship; and Lepidolite for Hope. They’re quite possibly the plainest spelled mane items I’ve ever made- but Ace has a very odd sense of style, and he wouldn’t wear anything fancy in his hair. I know this because I asked him. I also know that the real beauty is in the gems I chose- each one is special in some way, be it cut, clarity, or some other feature I can’t remember the name of.
I also asked him what kind of style he wanted, and he replied ‘buns’. So. I gave him a stacked bun style- I think it will really show off the various highlights in his hair. Ah- so, as near as I can figure, every member of my clan has the same basic coloration- we’re all bays. I’m the most ‘classical’ in appearance- my cousin Pinkie is one of the most ‘exotic’. The basic formula is that our manes and tails are always the same color, and always a color darker in tone than our coats. Ace is no exception.

He’s a unicorn- have I written this down? No, I haven’t- right, he’s a unicorn like me, he was actually born in Canterlot- ah, my guild bylaws prevent me from getting letters of recommendation from any family member who’s also in a guild (farmers aren’t in guilds; they’re in unions- lovely loophole). His mane is extremely bushy, because I think he doesn’t know how to condition it properly- it must collect static like nothing else. I also don’t think he’s gotten a mane cut in a long while- it’s got that ragged edge to it.

Hm. When I asked him, he said that he rarely has the time for an involved mane care regimen- at most, he’s got the time for a wash-condition and brushing. I nodded- and asked if he could add an oil to his combing or brushing.
He hummed, and then said ‘Probably, but- I’d need a mane cut first, I’ve been putting it off because I didn’t want to go to a stranger for it-’
‘That’s reasonable; when are you getting it done?’
‘Ah- probably this afternoon before I report back to my guild. You could come with me?’
‘Mm, I’d like that- I’ll even have your mane pins ready.’
‘Cool beans!’

Ace’s mane is dark red-brown, brighter where the sun has bleached it or where it grows lighter naturally; it’s shiny and wavy, underneath the overgrowth and road-dust. His coat is a dusty sort of terracotta, and his cutie mark is a fireball. Or possibly a comet, I’ve not gotten quite close enough to make a clear distinction.

Hell, it might even be a firework.

You know, I haven’t actually had a mane cut in three years- I’ve always kept it a bit long, to keep my pin collection in circulation, but… I don’t know. Maybe I feel like a little change. Mmn- nope, no change, just a wash and a trim, same as always.
I also let the hooficurist oil my hooves, which gave them a lovely lustre.

Ace looks much better- and the spelled pins do their job very well, he looks like a totally different stallion with them in. I saw at least three mares and a stallion trip over themselves when he walked past. I think he looks quite nice, myself.
Especially with his new glasses! Oh, Journal, when I learned he wasn’t even wearing contact lenses- ooh, the scolding I gave him! Breaking your glasses in a fight is no excuse- that just means you need to get better glasses, and better at dodging! Silly stallion, with a silly stallion’s pride...

Sumus plus quam unum sumus seorsum - We are stronger together than we are apart

Those are the words painted onto the lintel of the Whitebeard Adventurers Guild (or is it a mercenary company? It’s unclear, and I feel really awkward about asking… I’ll just listen and see if someone- but they have a motto?)
As I followed Ace into the guild hall, a hush- wait, hold on. Taffy and Lovelace went sightseeing in Canterlot City; Mark is with me and Ace, because he’s finalizing his Guild contract- okay. As I followed Ace and Mark into the guild hall, a hush fell over the ponies within. It got quiet enough that I could hear Ace and Mark quietly talking-

‘-and this is the hall. Mostly everyone comes through here eventually, and it’s open all hours. The fire pits on either side are always stoked- oh, right, um… there’s a water-garden out back, I’ll make sure you get a key for the back door.’
‘Nice!’
‘Haha, yeah- Namur will probably challenge you to a race, so- heads up, I guess. Ah- I’d need to double check how many Divisions there are, but the ones based in the hall itself indefinitely are First, Second, Fourth, Sixteenth, and Twelfth. That’s Administration, Accounting, Feed, Quartermaster, and Communications. I’m the Commander for the Second- that’s why I hired you, by the way-’
‘I was wondering, but it makes sense now that you’ve told me-’

Meanwhile, across the hall:
‘Is that…?’
‘Can’t be, he never wears glasses just around, says they make him feel like an egghead-’
‘If it’s Ace, I never knew his hair had so much color-’
‘It’s him alright; I’d know that cutie mark anywhere-’

‘So- I’ll be stationed with Miss Meadow?’
‘That was my plan. Knowing her plan, it’ll take at least six months to get everything she wants done; not to mention collect all the files she’ll need to get started, set up various permissions, and so on-’
‘Sure, sure. So- I’m helping her run her business too?’
‘You can if you want to- your job from our side will be keeping track of expenses and products gained, so, if you have enough time to help her out, go for it.’
‘Cool!’

I let them outpace me and walk into the Second Division office by themselves. I’m not joining the guild- I can’t, not and also become a master craftspony- guild bylaw. Ugh.

Journal, I’m tired- there’s a nice couch right in a sunbeam, and I feel like a nap. I’ll write any new developments, don’t worry.

Best love, Meadow

Dearest Journal,

I fell asleep on Tristan Woodsmoke at the Whitebeard Guild of Adventurers and now he knows I’m pregnant and- it’s all a bit- shouty. At the moment.

I’m hiding behind Whitebeard’s desk. Well, under it. It’s a very large desk, very roomy. M-more like a picnic table. The scarf I put around Tristan’s neck- I made it for him, to protect him, and only he can remove it.

So, um. Ace and Mark probably won’t be able to kill him.

I- Oh dear.

I have to go stop Mark from drowning Tristan in the pond out back, have to go-

-Meadow