Changeling in a Changing Landby OlimarandLouieChapters1 - Arrival in Blosmport2 - Lost in Translation3 - Tea Time4 - Patience1 - Arrival in BlosmportGerhard Kopieren was no stranger to different cultures. As a member of Chrysalis' spy network, VOPS, he had undergone dozens of operations in all sorts of places. He'd infiltrated communities and governments all across Equus, and had even had the pleasure of visiting Griffenheim years back as a part of an old military partnership that Chrysalis used to maintain with the Griffonian Empire. But this... this was new. Gerhard looked through the periscope of the transport submarine he had spent the last several weeks in. He saw a port not too far away, and he also had spotted several primitive looking ships scattered around it. Though none of the structures surrounding the port looked very advanced, it seemed to be a fairly active place. He took a deep breath. He'd reached Blosmport, the capital city of Greneclyf. An entire country of Changelings on the other side of the world. Truthfully, up until now Gerhard had thought that this entire mission was an elaborate prank. Harmonious changelings? On a remote island? And they wanted to have a cultural exchange? He had feared that he was being quietly disposed of due to his recent unsatisfactory performance, but now he realized that his boss had been serious. "We'll be surfacing soon," said the submarine's Helm. "Right." Gerhard nodded. "I'll go get ready." Gerhard retreated to his quarters to gather his things. He looked around the small room, taking stock of it once again. There was something awe-inspiring about these war machines that the shipyards spat out, the brutal efficiency that went into their design. He couldn't quite place his hoof on exactly what feature of this submarine he liked the most, but he felt at ease, despite how cramped it could feel sometimes. He still missed his home, though. The massive hives at Vraks was the only place where he could truly relax. He recalled having a view of a local nursery from his abode. Though he would never admit it, he took great joy in spending hours watching the little grubs mingle with each other. That was a different time, though. Now he was one of the more effective spies within VOPS, and he personally had a hoof in destabilizing the Equestrian Government leading up to the Alicorn Sunset, Chrysalis' grand invasion of Equestria. He was often picked first for important missions due to his invaluable expertise... ignoring his recent track record, of course. He had fumbled his law few infiltrations in Manehatten and Fillydelphia, leading to some of his friends being captured. Gerhard sighed, hoping that they were okay. As he turned his thoughts to the mission at hoof, he recalled what little information he knew about Greneclyf: They weren't very technologically advanced, as evidenced by their first contact with the Changeling Fleet. They had arrived on an unarmed wooden sailboat, of all things! And to top it off, they had somehow made the journey through heavily guarded waters during wartime without alerting anyling. Perhaps the fact that they were also changelings gave them an edge at staying undetected. He also knew that they were friendly, not just to other changelings, but seemingly to almost everycreature. That part was puzzling, maybe they were discreetly using them for feeding purposes? They had given a strange piece of tapestry to the port master who had greeted them, one that seemed to radiate a small but unending supply of love. Gerhard wondered how they had created such a thing. How many ponies' worth of love it must have taken to enchant it? They had also expressed interest in visiting again, and had given the port master a crudely drawn map that seemed to invite them to their homeland. The port master had immediately informed VOPS about this encounter, thus setting plans for a diplomatic mission into motion. Gerhard's objectives were two-fold: He was officially supposed to create an alliance between Greneclyf and Changelingia, or a simple trade agreement if that wasn't possible. His much more important mission was to learn as much as he could about them: How did they create that tapestry of endless love? Did they have any strange spells that could be utilized in the war effort? Did they have any active spy networks? Gerhard picked up a sealed letter from Chrysalis meant for whoever the Greneclyf Queen was and slipped it into his bag. He packed the few supplies he had and returned to the submarine's control room. The Commanding Officer of the sub was there, tapping his hoof impatiently. "Took your sweet time, Schrulle. I assume you're ready?" he asked curtly. Gerhard paid no mind to the Captain's tone. "Yep. How soon until we-" "Now," interrupted the Captain, pointing a hoof up towards the lower hatch, where the sub's lookout was already starting to open it. Gerhard frowned internally. He had met some stiff lings over the years, but the ones in the military seemed to be especially difficult to work with. Those in charge of the naval vessels seemed to be even worse. How did anyling even put up with them? Gerhard nodded and walked to where the Captain had pointed. The lookout twisted open the hatch, revealing a ladder that led upwards, then climbed up to get in position for the upper hatch. Gerhard followed suit. Soon he'd be free from the hot, cramped sub. After that, it'd be a long three months until his entourage came to pick him up. The Captain sternly looked at Gerhard as he climbed up. "Don't screw this up, Schrulle. Chryssie wants the support of these primitives." "I'm sure that they're not that primitive, they are changelings after all." replied Gerhard as he reached the upper hatch. "Ha. Well you'll find out, won't you now? We will be back in three months' time. Good luck, Schrulle." The Captain saluted him as one of his subordinates closed the lower hatch. Gerhard watched the lookout struggle with opening the final hatch. Somehow, he felt that something would go awry. He had a knack for knowing when things would go sideways, and his senses were telling him that this would be no ordinary mission. Still, he had nowhere to go but forward. Or up, in this case. The lookout grunted as he opened the hatch, revealing the bright sunlight overhead. It was almost blinding. Gerhard then noticed that the air was quite brisk. It seemed that even during the summer, a place this far north was still somewhat chilly. As he looked over the edge of the submarine, he saw that the calm waters of the sea were shimmering. Small waves could be heard splashing against the side of the vessel. He turned his attention towards the island in front of him. He could see groups of changelings buzzing about, doing... whatever it is they do here. Despite being a master of infiltration, he felt like he would have a very difficult time fitting in here. And besides, he reminded himself, this is a diplomatic mission, so I don't have to sneak in. They know I'm coming... I hope. The lookout whistled as he watched the same scenic view. "'What do you think they'll be like?" Gerhard squinted as he spotted what looked like a group of smaller changelings chasing each other through the air. "With any hope, they'll be just like us." The lookout nodded. "Aye. Best of luck, Kumpel." As the lookout closed the hatch, the submarine immediately began submerging itself. Evidently the captain had no patience at all. With another deep breath, Gerhard extended his wings and began flying the rest of the way to the port. As Gerhard set hoof onto the wooden planks of the port, he suddenly felt very out of place. He was wearing a stock uniform from the Changeling Armada, complete with false medals and unearned stripes that made him seem more diplomatically important than he really was. In stark contrast, several of the locals wore knotwork-covered attire, and some had burly coats covering most of their bodies. Many were looking at him curiously, and some got closer to him than he would have liked. As he walked through the port and into the city proper, he got the feeling that he was being followed. He turned around to see a few younger changelings tailing him. One of them, a drone clad in a brown tunic, approached him with a smile. "Dia duit a chara nua!" she chimed excitedly, extending her forehooves for an embrace. "Uh..." Gerhard was taken aback. Noling had told him that they spoke a different language! He backed away slightly out of uncertainty. The female changeling tilted her head, and her expression turned to one of worry. "An bhfuil tú ceart go leor?" Gerhard's eyes rapidly swapped between her and the approaching group of changelings that were gathering around him. Being the center of attention had always put him on edge, and the fact that he had no idea what they were saying didn't help at all. He wondered why Chrysalis had decided to send him instead of a proper negotiator. A slight tap on his back got Gerhard's attention. As he turned, he was met with the brilliant blue eyes of a slightly larger changeling clad with a much nicer tunic. This one had a mane, unlike the others. Gerhard blinked in surprise. A royal? What was a royal caste doing here? He hadn't seen a male royal in years, and he hardly expected to see one walking amongst the drones. The blue-eyed changeling gave him a gentle smile and spoke with an equally gentle voice. "Glac lenár bhfáilte, le do thoil, ní bhíonn aíonna againn go minic." Gerhard stared at him cluelessly. Their language didn't sound like anything he'd ever heard before, it was like they had developed it in isolation for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years! He was going to strangle his boss when he returned to Vraks. A few of the locals began to murmur in their unknown tongue, so Gerhard decided this was the time to take his leave. "I, ah, need to go. Thanks." Gerhard saw an opening and the crowd and quickly trotted through it, trying to process what he should do now. He made his way through the cobblestone streets to a quiet alley behind a stone building and rubbed his forehead in frustration. How was he supposed to negotiate with them if they didn't share a language? How did such a critical detail like that get missed during his briefing? How?!? He slumped against the cold wall and sighed in exasperation. This was going to be a very long three months. If he couldn't pick up on their language, then he'd have to find some other way of communication. Until then, he'd need to find a suitable local to replace and feed off- Gerhard's eyes went wide with realization. His tried and true tactics were utterly useless here. He couldn't impersonate a local to feed off of the love they received. Not only were they were changelings like him, he also couldn't afford to be on poor terms with them. They would likely be able to see through any disguises he put on as well. He racked his brain, trying to think of a way to convey his thoughts to the locals. Perhaps they might know the Old Tongue of the Changelings? It was possible... though Gerhard wasn't very skilled in the various clicks, trills, and hisses that went into the language. He cursed himself for not paying better attention in school all those years ago. Perhaps if he could find a translator, he could get them to bring him to whoever was in charge. Gerhard figured that it was possible the Greneclyfians had been in contact with Riverland ponies far south of their island. Being well versed in Ponish from his time spying in Equestria, he hoped that there might be a trader here who had visited the Riverlands and picked up some Ponish. Yes, that might just work... Gerhard mused as he prepared himself to venture out of alleyway. He'd need to find a trader who knew Ponish, and if that meant dusting off his embarrassingly rough Old Tongue, then so be it. Gerhard picked himself up, then returned to the streets of Blosmport. Author's Note I always thought it'd be fun if there were more interactions between Greneclyf and the Changeling Lands, but (at the time of writing) their current in-game interactions are... minimal, to say the least. I hope that you will enjoy this. 2 - Lost in TranslationAuthor's Note Green text indicates that the Old Tongue of the Changelings is being spoken. 2 - Lost in Translation There were many words that Gerhard could use to describe the city of Blosmport. The quaint streets of cobblestone complimented the small businesses and stone houses that stretched throughout the heart of the city in a semi-circle. At the center was a grand, old-fashioned hive structure that seemed to have been renovated with fine, painted wood over the years. It stretched up about five stories high, which made it the tallest building in the city by far. Past the large hive were more traditional yet smaller changeling settlements, ones that appeared to be dug into the earth, suggesting that they went underground. Looking at them made Gerhard feel like he was walking through a Changelingia history book. It seemed like most of the buildings closer to the shore were newer, which made Gerhard think that they were in the process of modernizing their city... if such simple structures could be called "modern". As Gerhard weaved his way through the streets, he paused when he spotted a street vendor that looked like they were selling miniature candies shaped like ponies. The drone running the stand was quite lively, talking so quickly to anyling that passed by that Gerhard doubted that he'd be able to understand the vendor even if he knew the language. Still, it was a good a lead as any. Gerhard waited for an opening to speak, then trotted up to the vendor, hoping that his Old Tongue was up to snuff. The vendor's wings buzzed excitedly when he spotted a potential customer approach him directly, rather than give him a passing glance. "Beannachtaí mo chara, ag iarraidh seacláid a cheannach? Déantar iad le grá!" Gerhard cleared his throat, hoping that he could get his message across. "Hello stranger. Do you know pony talker?" The vendor raised an eyebrow, looking surprised. "Do you mean a pony, or a changeling that knows the ponies' language?" Gerhard couldn't have felt more relieved. Oh thank the Hatcher! He hadn't gotten to practice his Old Tongue in years, but thankfully he was still comprehensible. "Yes. I need talker. Please get me the talker." Gerhard's throat felt sore, despite only having spoken a few words. He was just glad that he could at least communicate with the locals, albeit poorly. "I have a sister who can speak their language. You look like you're not from around here, my friend. Are you from the pony countries?" "No," Gerhard coughed, "I from my home." The vendor squinted, no doubt trying to make sense of Gerhard's rough accent. "Right. Well, I suppose business is slow and I have nothing better to do! Follow me and I'll take you to my sister. She can help you." The vendor threw a blanket over his stand and beckoned Gerhard to follow him. Gerhard was puzzled why the vendor thought that simply covering his stand would offer sufficient protection from thieves, but figured it wasn't worth asking about. "I will be honest, my friend. You stick out like a sore hoof!" laughed the vendor, "What's your name, by the way? I'm Felim." "Felim...?" Felim turned a corner to a less busy street. This one seemed to be filled with homes, rather than businesses. He turned back to give Gerhard a sly grin. "It means Always Good, my friend!" Gerhard nodded as he followed Felim through the housing district. He almost instinctively replied with one of his many aliases, but stopped as he reminded himself again that this was not an infiltration mission. "Me Gerhard. Gerhard Kopieren." Felim paused to gave his foreign friend a strange look, "That is the weirdest name I've ever heard. What's it mean?" "Uh..." Gerhard stumbled, trying to recall the correct words in the Old Tongue, "Spear... Copy?" "That's still a weird name, my friend." Gerhard shrugged. He could have argued on what makes a name weird, but he opted not to on account of the ever-present language barrier. They continued walking for several minutes with Felim constantly pestering Gerhard with questions, which he begrudgingly answered as non-descriptively as he could. Gerhard was used to being grilled for information and lying his teeth off, but this guy was non-stop pestering him about the most mundane things! What's your uniform made of? Are you right-hoofed or left-hoofed? What's your favorite creature to transform into on a date? Gerhard was on the verge of abandoning Felim by the time they reached a small wooden house. Like most of Blosmport, it was old-fashioned. The crooked roof looked like it should fall to pieces at any moment, and the drab, tan paint didn't help it look any nicer. Still, the area around the house looked... serviceable. A stone pathway led to the front entrance, complemented by some peculiar flowers on both sides that looked almost alien in origin. "Tá muid sa bhaile!" buzzed Felim excitedly. He practically leaped forward towards the front door and proceeded to loudly bang on it. Gerhard frowned slightly. "Not you home?" "It is! But I always knock, just in case!" Gerhard was about to ask why Felim felt the need to knock, but the door opened before he could finish thinking of the correct words to say. "Felim, mo dheartháir!" Greeting them from inside the door was a cheerful-looking drone. She wore a necklace adorned with simple beads, probably hoof-crafted by Gerhard's guess. She also had a small, pink flower tucked between her left ear and her head. Felim happily jumped at her, and she reciprocated in kind with a big hug. Gerhard could swear that he could taste... was that love radiating off of them? It couldn't be. That was impossible, changelings couldn't produce love, they could only take it. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that the locals here were... unusual, at least compared to back home. The 'lings here in Greneclyf are even stranger than I realized... Felim and the female drone soon ceased their embrace and started chatting. What they spoke of, Gerhard couldn't tell. A few times Felim gestured back towards Gerhard, but their foreign language kept him in the dark. Soon enough, the female turned her attention to Gerhard and smiled with a quick bow, "Hello Spear, my name is Aoife! It's nice to meet you!" "My name... not Spear," choked Gerhard, "Me Gerhard." The sooner he could stop torturing his throat with the Old Tongue, the better. Aoife chuckled and beckoned Gerhard inside. "Please, we can talk more inside. Felim, would you please brew some tea? The kind that our aunt always used to make?" Felim saluted his sister and sprinted off into another room, leaving the two of them alone for now. Aoife guided Gerhard inside and offered him a seat on the couch in the living room. He accepted, then took stock of his surroundings. The house looked somewhat nicer on the inside compared to the shoddy piece of work he had observed earlier. The room he was in wasn't very big, but it did seem cozy. An ornate rug covered most of the floor, and a few simple paintings of the ocean were hung across the walls. There were also some small patchwork tapestries hung between the paintings, each with a unique pattern. A few chairs and a soft couch were positioned in a semi-circle around the biggest tapestry, which had a pink star inside of a pink circle embroidered on it. Judging by the few lanterns hung above his head, he guessed that she didn't have electricity here. "So Spear... I mean, Gur-hawd, what brings you here?" Aoife climbed onto one of the chairs and sat on it, "My brother said you were a tourist, but you don't look like one!" Gerhard shook his head, "No. Me... traveler? Not enemy. Want to find Queen Mother." Aoife tilted her head, "Wow, you're really not from around here, are you? Felim also said that you didn't know our language, is that right?" He nodded. "All right then," Aoife hummed, "Do you know the language of the Southern Ponies?" "Yes." Gerhard sighed in relief knowing that he finally wouldn't have to subject his poor throat to the Old Tongue anymore. Aoife smiled cheerfully and shifted in her seat. "Well then! Zašto se ne prebaciti na ovaj jezik?" Gerhard's heart dropped into his stomach. After Gerhard didn't respond, she looked at him quizzically. "Znate ovaj jezik, zar ne?" In that moment Gerherd remembered something he'd learned long ago while undercover in Equestria. While it was true that the majority of ponies on Equus spoke the same language, the same could not be said for the ponies in Eastern Griffonia. They'd been there long enough to develop their own languages, each distinctly different from their Equestrian counterparts. Aoife didn't speak Equestrian, she spoke... whatever the Riverland Ponies spoke! "Hatcher save me..." groaned Gerhard in defeat. 3 - Tea Time"I'm sorry Gur-hawd, I didn't realize that the language of our Southern Ponies and your ponies were different." Gerhard was rubbing his temple in frustration. Not only was he annoyed at his current predicament, but he couldn't even fully explain how angry he was with his superiors to Aoife. The more he thought about the situation, the more it didn't make sense. VOPS was one of the best, if not the best intelligence agencies in the world, how could they have neglected to consider the possibility that a foreign nation might speak a foreign language? It just didn't add up! He grumbled to himself a little more, then sighed once again. "Me upset. Me not good talker." Aoife offered him a consoling hoof coupled with a comforting smile, "Don't be, it's not your fault. I should have realized that a changeling from a faraway land like you must not know the languages of our neighbors." She paused, her smile turning into a thoughtful expression, Though I am curious, what land do you come from?" Gerhard almost said Equestria, but caught himself before falling into old habits. Fortunately, he knew the name of his homeland in the Old Tongue. "Changeling Lands." Aoife frowned, "That's... I guess that makes sense. What language do they speak there?" "Changeling." She rolled her eyes, much to Gerhard's confusion. "I should have expected as much. Where is your homeland?" "Beyond ocean," said Gerhard. "I see... in which direction, though? Gerhard suddenly realized that he didn't remember the words for cardinal directions. After a moment of deliberation, he firmly pointed in the direction that he assumed was east, leading to the confusion of Aoife. "I think you may have your directions messed up, Gur-hawd. There's nothing but death in those seas." Seas of death? Gerhard wrinkled his brow, What did she mean by that? Suddenly, Felim returned from the kitchen with some drinks in his telekinetic grip. "Here you are, Spear! And one special for you, my favorite sister!" Gerhard hesitantly accepted the drink, then eyed it carefully. He didn't have time to check it for- He stopped himself again. He kept having to remind himself that he was not their enemy. They had no reason to poison him. He took a sip from the cup, and- Hatcher below... His eyes began to water, his hooves trembled, and his wings buzzed. Gerhard quickly began downing the rest of the drink. It was glorious. Beyond that, even! The tea was infused with an exceedingly potent amount of love, and it seemed like it was not even harvested love at that. It was the purest love he'd ever tasted. With each gulp he could feel more and more affection; it was an overpowering warmth and tenderness, the likes of which he hadn't experienced since... ...Since he'd hugged the foals of a pony he had once masqueraded as. Gerhard dropped the cup and hugged himself tightly, trying to preserve the feeling for as long as possible. A worried, feminine voice brought him back to reality. "Are you okay?" He opened his eyes to see that both Felim and Aoife were staring at him like he was a hatchling who had tasted a pony's love for the first time. He coughed and stood up to straighten himself out, only to notice that the cup he was drinking from was now shattered on the ground. He smiled sheepishly, "Sorry about that." Felim and Aoife briefly looked at each other, then returned their attention to him. Aoife rose from her chair and took a step towards Gerhard, concern written all over her face. "Gur-hawd... are you starving?" He shook his head, remembering to speak in the Old Tongue this time. "No. Why you ask?" "The way you drank that tea, it was almost like you'd never tasted love before," Aoife leaned forward, "Are you sure that you're okay?" "Yes. Drink good. Very good," said Gerhard. He made a mental note to get the recipe for that tea later, there was no way he was returning to Vraks without it. For now, his thoughts returned to his mission. "Do you know pony talker beyond ocean? Or where Queen Mother is?" Felim piped up, "Oh, Queen Gytha? I think she's in Blosmport currently! She's not seeing anyling, either!" He winked. Aoife gave her brother a solid punch, then corrected him, "What my brother meant to say was that Queen Gytha is very busy with recent events and doesn't have as much time as she used to. Her schedule is probably booked for some time." Gerhard nodded. Considering his predicament it wouldn't be wise to rush to see the queen. "And pony talker... pony language talker?" His throat cracked as he tried to pronounce the new word. He knew that this would be an uphill battle, but the Old Tongue was absolute torture on his throat. "I'm sorry, but I don't know anyling, or anypony for that matter who might know your language," Aoife paused, then raised her hoof, "But I may know someling who could get you in contact with one. He lives in Bugsmere, actually!" Felim grinned and buzzed his wings excitedly. "Bugsmere? I love Bugsmere this time of year! Can we go, sis? Please?" Aoife sighed, "You don't have to ask me. You're a fully-grown drone, you can make your own decisions." "Where that?" asked Gerhard. He didn't recall any town by that name from his briefing. Felim's grin grew even wider. "Oh, not too far! You have see it! Bugsmere is my favorite place in the world! The flowers are beautiful, everyling is friendly, the hives are bustling with 'lings from all around Greneclyf, there are parks and shops everywhere, and the queens there are so prett-" "I think he gets the point, Felim." chuckled Aoife, "Why don't you take him there? I'll watch your shop while you're away." Gerhard's eye twitched at the prospect of having to spend more time alone with Felim. He'd known him for about an hour and he was already at his wit's end. Not that he found Felim annoying, but he supposed that he wasn't used to being around such an... energetic changeling. "Wow sis, you mean it? Thanks!" Felim practically lept towards the front door, then paused as he reached it. "But wait, who is that changeling you wanted Spear to see?" Aoife stifled a giggle. "Wow, you actually remembered something important before rushing out the door. You really have grown, Felim." "And yet mum still treats you like a hatchling!" countered Felim, earning him another look from his sister. "Who the changeling?" asked Gerhard. He didn't mind a bit of sibling banter, but he didn't want to intrude any further. Aoife was already being too kind to him by inviting a foreigner and complete stranger into her home. He was starting to feel uncomfortable being around her. Gerhard frowned. He felt uncomfortable due to another's kindness. Hmm... Before he could ponder on that further, Aoife answered his question. "His name is Ciaran. He is a good friend of mine who works for the Greneclyfian Cartographer Society! They know all sorts of things since they travel a lot; they would probably be able to help you find a proper interpreter. Normally he'd be here in Blosmport, but he got injured recently at work, so he's resting at his family's hive in Bugsmere now." She turned to Felim, "You remember where our aunt's old hive was? It's right next to that one." Felim nodded, still as excited as ever. "Yes! I know exactly where that is! Let's go!" Though Gerhard could have tried to say that it was rude to not ask a guest if they were ready to leave, he decided that it wasn't worth the effort. He stood from his chair and thanked Aoife for the tea, then headed for the door where Felim looked like he was about ready to bolt. "Felim, Gur-hawd?" Gerhard and Felim both glanced back at Aoife, who was now cleaning up Gerhard's broken cup. She simply smiled at them. "Please stay safe." Warmth rushed over Gerhard, throwing him off balance. What was that? These 'lings got weirder by the minute. He'd definitely need to return to interrogate- er, ask her about their culture later. He felt like Felim wouldn't be a very good source, considering that... "So, wanna play Bug or Bush while we walk?" This was gonna be a long trip to Bugsmere, wherever that was. Author's Note Since I joined the Equestria at War team as a Writer, I have become privy to a lot of knowledge regarding the (at the time of writing) upcoming rework for Greneclyf, so I decided to incorporate as much of the new lore as possible for the remainder of the story. Thanks for understanding, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story. 4 - Patience"Felim? Why stop?" asked Gerhard with increasingly apparent exasperation. It hadn't even been thirty minutes since they'd left the house and they had already stopped five times to look at miscellaneous shops. If Felim noticed Gerhard's tone, he didn't show it. He seemed to be mesmerized by a display case full of winter coats and other cold-weather clothing. "Spear! You've got to see what they sell here!" Gerhard whispered a prayer to the Hatcher, then sighed, "No. Want to leave." "But Spear! Let's just go inside real quick to see what they have. I promise that we'll be in and out and on our way in no time!" "Fine," grumbled Gerhard. Maybe the sixth time's the charm? Felim practically catapulted himself into the shop. Gerhard looked up at the sign written above the front door. Éadaí Abhainn. How informative. Taking another look at the display case, he saw some signs next to a few coats bearing the flag of the River Republic. Imported clothing, perhaps? He turned his gaze to the front door. The thought of abandoning Felim again popped up in his mind, but it was quickly dismissed upon thinking of how disappointed Aoife would be in him for making her brother sad... Gerhard shook his head. No, no, his reason for staying with Felim was simply one of logic, that was it. He had no other assets in this country to utilize, and there was no telling how many other changelings here would be willing to help him, or even ones that knew the Old Tongue. There simply wasn't a- Felim poked his head out of the front door to beckon Gerhard inwards. "Hey Spear, are you coming? There's something really cool in here! I think you'll like it!" Gerhard mentally kicked himself for thinking like an infiltrator again. There might be time for that knowledge later. For now, he was simply a glorified tourist until he found a proper interpreter. "Yes. I come." A little jingle announced Gerhard's entrance into the shop. He looked around to see apparel and attire unlike most of what he had seen from the locals thus far. Brightly colored heavy coats, fleeces, scarves, hats, and so on, all of which seemed to be from various nations around the Riverlands. He wasn't too familiar with the cultures of those nations, but the clothing here seemed to speak for itself. There was even a section of tunics and odd-looking helmets next to the flag of... Nimbusia, was it? Something to keep in mind for later, perhaps. Felim stood next to a mannequin adorned in what looked like a gray naval uniform, examining its every detail. "This looks kind of like your clothes, Spear. Isn't it neat?" Gerhard suddenly became aware of how uncomfortable his uniform truly was, as he wasn't accustomed to wearing such things. In stark contrast, the clothing in front of him seemed to look quite snug. He tried to read the description but found that like everything else, he couldn't understand it. "Felim? Where from? How..." Gerhard struggled to remember the word for expensive. Fortunately, Felim seemed to know what he was trying to ask. He pointed at the flag on the price tag, which appeared to be a ship's helm above wavy blue and white lines. "Bakara! The seaponies of the south! And it's not too pricey either, by the looks of it." Gerhard frowned. Seaponies? Here? This was about the furthest place from Hippogriffia, why would there be- Wait, perhaps Felim wasn't talking about them. The Old Tongue was notorious for not having words for certain concepts, so maybe Felim was referring to seafaring ponies. That made more sense. Suddenly, he heard an unfamiliar female voice from the other side of the shop. "Fáilte romhat! Conas is féidir liom cabhrú leat?" It must be the shopkeeper, figured Gerhard. He wasn't especially keen on buying anything, especially since he hadn't been given any money on the assumption that he would be treated as a proper diplomat and provided for. He didn't want Felim to get anything for him either, but Gerhard did need him to tell the shopkeeper that he couldn't understand the language around here. He turned his head towards the speaker to wave hello and- Across the room from him was a smiling earth pony standing behind a counter. Gerhard felt the urge to immediately escape the pony's line of sight and shift into one of his many disguises. With great restraint, he forced a smile and nodded curtly to the mare across the shop from him. She once again said something in the Greneclyfian's native tongue, then gestured to some of the many clothing items around her. Gerhard turned his head away and tried to pretend that something had caught his attention. Felim seemed to notice Gerhard's anxious posture. He tapped on Gerhard's back and pointed at the clothing near the mare. "What, are you scared of ponies? Let's go see what she has to offer!" Oh, Hatcher below... Gerhard steeled himself and followed Felim as he approached the pony running the shop. Felim said something incomprehensible, then the shopkeeper giggled. She replied to Felim and winked at Gerhard, causing the lost changeling to look at Felim in confusion. "What she say?" Felim smiled widely, "Oh, I told her that you get nervous around ponies and she said she has that effect on most stallions." Gerhard's eye twitched. He stood there, mouth agape in equal parts astoundment and bewilderment. The mare batted her eyes and said another indecipherable sentence to Gerhard. With a mischievous grin, she beckoned him over. Out of all the things that Gerhard had prepared for in both his civilian life and time as an infiltrator, a pony flirting with him in his natural form was not one of them. Felim laughed and patted Gerhard on the back again. "All right, we can go now. We can buy something on the way back!" On the way back? What? Why was Felim implying that he'd still be with Gerhard by the time he got what he needed in Bugsmere? Unless... unless this odd drone fully intended to hang around a complete stranger for the foreseeable future. Gerhard shivered at the thought. Greneclyfian changelings were weird. Another thought struck Gerhard as Felim was guiding him out of the shop: He suddenly really wanted to know what that mare was saying. Not for any particular reason, of course. "Felim, what she say?" Felim stifled another laugh, "I'll tell you later." Gerhard ignored his now-burning desire to know what the mare said. Just curiosity, he lied to himself, nothing more. With Felim's window-shopping habits seemingly sated, the two changelings turned towards a path that led further inland, away from the various shops and buildings. As the two walked, Felim attempted to teach Gerhard a few words from the Greneclyfian language. Despite having some trouble pronouncing the odd phrases, he managed to add a few basic greetings to his repertoire of foreign words. At least, he hoped they were basic greetings. Felim hadn't stopped smiling the entire time he was trying to get Gerhard to say certain words correctly. Gerhard made a mental note to not use these new words under any circumstances. The two continued to travel for some time. As the hours passed, the city fully gave way to the countryside, which Gerhard had to admit was quite beautiful. The lightly forested hills and calm scenery reminded him very much of Equestria. The only real difference between the two that he could see were some unique plants every now and then. He surmised that the island must have a fair number of flora and fauna not present anywhere else in the world. A sudden brisk breeze and the soon-to-be setting sun reminded Gerhard of one detail he had yet to ask Felim about. "Felim? Where shelter?" "Oh! We will stay at my cousin's hive! They are very nice, you will love them!" Somehow, Gerhard doubted that. If they were even half as energetic as Felim, they'd drive him insane before morning. But what choice did he have? He dared not risk braving the elements in an unfamiliar environment. Gerhard took another look at the serene landscape, wondering what unknown dangers might be out there, then sighed in defeat. Felim seemed to hear Gerhard's sigh. "You are tired? Don't worry, we'll be there soon!" He grimaced. Patience, Gerhard, he reminded himself. If this gets him closer to a real interpreter, then he would endure anything to get there. Not but a few seconds later, Felim began to barrage Gerhard with all sorts of information about his extended family. From names, to ages, to hobbies, to favorite colors, the drone seemed to have an endless supply of things to talk about. Gerhard discreetly retrieved a pair of earplugs from his bag and granted his ears solace from Felim's ramblings. Almost anything. Author's Note Story is not dead. No promises on next chapter's ETA, though. Gonna try to make them longer.
1 - Arrival in BlosmportGerhard Kopieren was no stranger to different cultures. As a member of Chrysalis' spy network, VOPS, he had undergone dozens of operations in all sorts of places. He'd infiltrated communities and governments all across Equus, and had even had the pleasure of visiting Griffenheim years back as a part of an old military partnership that Chrysalis used to maintain with the Griffonian Empire. But this... this was new. Gerhard looked through the periscope of the transport submarine he had spent the last several weeks in. He saw a port not too far away, and he also had spotted several primitive looking ships scattered around it. Though none of the structures surrounding the port looked very advanced, it seemed to be a fairly active place. He took a deep breath. He'd reached Blosmport, the capital city of Greneclyf. An entire country of Changelings on the other side of the world. Truthfully, up until now Gerhard had thought that this entire mission was an elaborate prank. Harmonious changelings? On a remote island? And they wanted to have a cultural exchange? He had feared that he was being quietly disposed of due to his recent unsatisfactory performance, but now he realized that his boss had been serious. "We'll be surfacing soon," said the submarine's Helm. "Right." Gerhard nodded. "I'll go get ready." Gerhard retreated to his quarters to gather his things. He looked around the small room, taking stock of it once again. There was something awe-inspiring about these war machines that the shipyards spat out, the brutal efficiency that went into their design. He couldn't quite place his hoof on exactly what feature of this submarine he liked the most, but he felt at ease, despite how cramped it could feel sometimes. He still missed his home, though. The massive hives at Vraks was the only place where he could truly relax. He recalled having a view of a local nursery from his abode. Though he would never admit it, he took great joy in spending hours watching the little grubs mingle with each other. That was a different time, though. Now he was one of the more effective spies within VOPS, and he personally had a hoof in destabilizing the Equestrian Government leading up to the Alicorn Sunset, Chrysalis' grand invasion of Equestria. He was often picked first for important missions due to his invaluable expertise... ignoring his recent track record, of course. He had fumbled his law few infiltrations in Manehatten and Fillydelphia, leading to some of his friends being captured. Gerhard sighed, hoping that they were okay. As he turned his thoughts to the mission at hoof, he recalled what little information he knew about Greneclyf: They weren't very technologically advanced, as evidenced by their first contact with the Changeling Fleet. They had arrived on an unarmed wooden sailboat, of all things! And to top it off, they had somehow made the journey through heavily guarded waters during wartime without alerting anyling. Perhaps the fact that they were also changelings gave them an edge at staying undetected. He also knew that they were friendly, not just to other changelings, but seemingly to almost everycreature. That part was puzzling, maybe they were discreetly using them for feeding purposes? They had given a strange piece of tapestry to the port master who had greeted them, one that seemed to radiate a small but unending supply of love. Gerhard wondered how they had created such a thing. How many ponies' worth of love it must have taken to enchant it? They had also expressed interest in visiting again, and had given the port master a crudely drawn map that seemed to invite them to their homeland. The port master had immediately informed VOPS about this encounter, thus setting plans for a diplomatic mission into motion. Gerhard's objectives were two-fold: He was officially supposed to create an alliance between Greneclyf and Changelingia, or a simple trade agreement if that wasn't possible. His much more important mission was to learn as much as he could about them: How did they create that tapestry of endless love? Did they have any strange spells that could be utilized in the war effort? Did they have any active spy networks? Gerhard picked up a sealed letter from Chrysalis meant for whoever the Greneclyf Queen was and slipped it into his bag. He packed the few supplies he had and returned to the submarine's control room. The Commanding Officer of the sub was there, tapping his hoof impatiently. "Took your sweet time, Schrulle. I assume you're ready?" he asked curtly. Gerhard paid no mind to the Captain's tone. "Yep. How soon until we-" "Now," interrupted the Captain, pointing a hoof up towards the lower hatch, where the sub's lookout was already starting to open it. Gerhard frowned internally. He had met some stiff lings over the years, but the ones in the military seemed to be especially difficult to work with. Those in charge of the naval vessels seemed to be even worse. How did anyling even put up with them? Gerhard nodded and walked to where the Captain had pointed. The lookout twisted open the hatch, revealing a ladder that led upwards, then climbed up to get in position for the upper hatch. Gerhard followed suit. Soon he'd be free from the hot, cramped sub. After that, it'd be a long three months until his entourage came to pick him up. The Captain sternly looked at Gerhard as he climbed up. "Don't screw this up, Schrulle. Chryssie wants the support of these primitives." "I'm sure that they're not that primitive, they are changelings after all." replied Gerhard as he reached the upper hatch. "Ha. Well you'll find out, won't you now? We will be back in three months' time. Good luck, Schrulle." The Captain saluted him as one of his subordinates closed the lower hatch. Gerhard watched the lookout struggle with opening the final hatch. Somehow, he felt that something would go awry. He had a knack for knowing when things would go sideways, and his senses were telling him that this would be no ordinary mission. Still, he had nowhere to go but forward. Or up, in this case. The lookout grunted as he opened the hatch, revealing the bright sunlight overhead. It was almost blinding. Gerhard then noticed that the air was quite brisk. It seemed that even during the summer, a place this far north was still somewhat chilly. As he looked over the edge of the submarine, he saw that the calm waters of the sea were shimmering. Small waves could be heard splashing against the side of the vessel. He turned his attention towards the island in front of him. He could see groups of changelings buzzing about, doing... whatever it is they do here. Despite being a master of infiltration, he felt like he would have a very difficult time fitting in here. And besides, he reminded himself, this is a diplomatic mission, so I don't have to sneak in. They know I'm coming... I hope. The lookout whistled as he watched the same scenic view. "'What do you think they'll be like?" Gerhard squinted as he spotted what looked like a group of smaller changelings chasing each other through the air. "With any hope, they'll be just like us." The lookout nodded. "Aye. Best of luck, Kumpel." As the lookout closed the hatch, the submarine immediately began submerging itself. Evidently the captain had no patience at all. With another deep breath, Gerhard extended his wings and began flying the rest of the way to the port. As Gerhard set hoof onto the wooden planks of the port, he suddenly felt very out of place. He was wearing a stock uniform from the Changeling Armada, complete with false medals and unearned stripes that made him seem more diplomatically important than he really was. In stark contrast, several of the locals wore knotwork-covered attire, and some had burly coats covering most of their bodies. Many were looking at him curiously, and some got closer to him than he would have liked. As he walked through the port and into the city proper, he got the feeling that he was being followed. He turned around to see a few younger changelings tailing him. One of them, a drone clad in a brown tunic, approached him with a smile. "Dia duit a chara nua!" she chimed excitedly, extending her forehooves for an embrace. "Uh..." Gerhard was taken aback. Noling had told him that they spoke a different language! He backed away slightly out of uncertainty. The female changeling tilted her head, and her expression turned to one of worry. "An bhfuil tú ceart go leor?" Gerhard's eyes rapidly swapped between her and the approaching group of changelings that were gathering around him. Being the center of attention had always put him on edge, and the fact that he had no idea what they were saying didn't help at all. He wondered why Chrysalis had decided to send him instead of a proper negotiator. A slight tap on his back got Gerhard's attention. As he turned, he was met with the brilliant blue eyes of a slightly larger changeling clad with a much nicer tunic. This one had a mane, unlike the others. Gerhard blinked in surprise. A royal? What was a royal caste doing here? He hadn't seen a male royal in years, and he hardly expected to see one walking amongst the drones. The blue-eyed changeling gave him a gentle smile and spoke with an equally gentle voice. "Glac lenár bhfáilte, le do thoil, ní bhíonn aíonna againn go minic." Gerhard stared at him cluelessly. Their language didn't sound like anything he'd ever heard before, it was like they had developed it in isolation for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years! He was going to strangle his boss when he returned to Vraks. A few of the locals began to murmur in their unknown tongue, so Gerhard decided this was the time to take his leave. "I, ah, need to go. Thanks." Gerhard saw an opening and the crowd and quickly trotted through it, trying to process what he should do now. He made his way through the cobblestone streets to a quiet alley behind a stone building and rubbed his forehead in frustration. How was he supposed to negotiate with them if they didn't share a language? How did such a critical detail like that get missed during his briefing? How?!? He slumped against the cold wall and sighed in exasperation. This was going to be a very long three months. If he couldn't pick up on their language, then he'd have to find some other way of communication. Until then, he'd need to find a suitable local to replace and feed off- Gerhard's eyes went wide with realization. His tried and true tactics were utterly useless here. He couldn't impersonate a local to feed off of the love they received. Not only were they were changelings like him, he also couldn't afford to be on poor terms with them. They would likely be able to see through any disguises he put on as well. He racked his brain, trying to think of a way to convey his thoughts to the locals. Perhaps they might know the Old Tongue of the Changelings? It was possible... though Gerhard wasn't very skilled in the various clicks, trills, and hisses that went into the language. He cursed himself for not paying better attention in school all those years ago. Perhaps if he could find a translator, he could get them to bring him to whoever was in charge. Gerhard figured that it was possible the Greneclyfians had been in contact with Riverland ponies far south of their island. Being well versed in Ponish from his time spying in Equestria, he hoped that there might be a trader here who had visited the Riverlands and picked up some Ponish. Yes, that might just work... Gerhard mused as he prepared himself to venture out of alleyway. He'd need to find a trader who knew Ponish, and if that meant dusting off his embarrassingly rough Old Tongue, then so be it. Gerhard picked himself up, then returned to the streets of Blosmport. Author's Note I always thought it'd be fun if there were more interactions between Greneclyf and the Changeling Lands, but (at the time of writing) their current in-game interactions are... minimal, to say the least. I hope that you will enjoy this.
2 - Lost in TranslationAuthor's Note Green text indicates that the Old Tongue of the Changelings is being spoken. 2 - Lost in Translation There were many words that Gerhard could use to describe the city of Blosmport. The quaint streets of cobblestone complimented the small businesses and stone houses that stretched throughout the heart of the city in a semi-circle. At the center was a grand, old-fashioned hive structure that seemed to have been renovated with fine, painted wood over the years. It stretched up about five stories high, which made it the tallest building in the city by far. Past the large hive were more traditional yet smaller changeling settlements, ones that appeared to be dug into the earth, suggesting that they went underground. Looking at them made Gerhard feel like he was walking through a Changelingia history book. It seemed like most of the buildings closer to the shore were newer, which made Gerhard think that they were in the process of modernizing their city... if such simple structures could be called "modern". As Gerhard weaved his way through the streets, he paused when he spotted a street vendor that looked like they were selling miniature candies shaped like ponies. The drone running the stand was quite lively, talking so quickly to anyling that passed by that Gerhard doubted that he'd be able to understand the vendor even if he knew the language. Still, it was a good a lead as any. Gerhard waited for an opening to speak, then trotted up to the vendor, hoping that his Old Tongue was up to snuff. The vendor's wings buzzed excitedly when he spotted a potential customer approach him directly, rather than give him a passing glance. "Beannachtaí mo chara, ag iarraidh seacláid a cheannach? Déantar iad le grá!" Gerhard cleared his throat, hoping that he could get his message across. "Hello stranger. Do you know pony talker?" The vendor raised an eyebrow, looking surprised. "Do you mean a pony, or a changeling that knows the ponies' language?" Gerhard couldn't have felt more relieved. Oh thank the Hatcher! He hadn't gotten to practice his Old Tongue in years, but thankfully he was still comprehensible. "Yes. I need talker. Please get me the talker." Gerhard's throat felt sore, despite only having spoken a few words. He was just glad that he could at least communicate with the locals, albeit poorly. "I have a sister who can speak their language. You look like you're not from around here, my friend. Are you from the pony countries?" "No," Gerhard coughed, "I from my home." The vendor squinted, no doubt trying to make sense of Gerhard's rough accent. "Right. Well, I suppose business is slow and I have nothing better to do! Follow me and I'll take you to my sister. She can help you." The vendor threw a blanket over his stand and beckoned Gerhard to follow him. Gerhard was puzzled why the vendor thought that simply covering his stand would offer sufficient protection from thieves, but figured it wasn't worth asking about. "I will be honest, my friend. You stick out like a sore hoof!" laughed the vendor, "What's your name, by the way? I'm Felim." "Felim...?" Felim turned a corner to a less busy street. This one seemed to be filled with homes, rather than businesses. He turned back to give Gerhard a sly grin. "It means Always Good, my friend!" Gerhard nodded as he followed Felim through the housing district. He almost instinctively replied with one of his many aliases, but stopped as he reminded himself again that this was not an infiltration mission. "Me Gerhard. Gerhard Kopieren." Felim paused to gave his foreign friend a strange look, "That is the weirdest name I've ever heard. What's it mean?" "Uh..." Gerhard stumbled, trying to recall the correct words in the Old Tongue, "Spear... Copy?" "That's still a weird name, my friend." Gerhard shrugged. He could have argued on what makes a name weird, but he opted not to on account of the ever-present language barrier. They continued walking for several minutes with Felim constantly pestering Gerhard with questions, which he begrudgingly answered as non-descriptively as he could. Gerhard was used to being grilled for information and lying his teeth off, but this guy was non-stop pestering him about the most mundane things! What's your uniform made of? Are you right-hoofed or left-hoofed? What's your favorite creature to transform into on a date? Gerhard was on the verge of abandoning Felim by the time they reached a small wooden house. Like most of Blosmport, it was old-fashioned. The crooked roof looked like it should fall to pieces at any moment, and the drab, tan paint didn't help it look any nicer. Still, the area around the house looked... serviceable. A stone pathway led to the front entrance, complemented by some peculiar flowers on both sides that looked almost alien in origin. "Tá muid sa bhaile!" buzzed Felim excitedly. He practically leaped forward towards the front door and proceeded to loudly bang on it. Gerhard frowned slightly. "Not you home?" "It is! But I always knock, just in case!" Gerhard was about to ask why Felim felt the need to knock, but the door opened before he could finish thinking of the correct words to say. "Felim, mo dheartháir!" Greeting them from inside the door was a cheerful-looking drone. She wore a necklace adorned with simple beads, probably hoof-crafted by Gerhard's guess. She also had a small, pink flower tucked between her left ear and her head. Felim happily jumped at her, and she reciprocated in kind with a big hug. Gerhard could swear that he could taste... was that love radiating off of them? It couldn't be. That was impossible, changelings couldn't produce love, they could only take it. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that the locals here were... unusual, at least compared to back home. The 'lings here in Greneclyf are even stranger than I realized... Felim and the female drone soon ceased their embrace and started chatting. What they spoke of, Gerhard couldn't tell. A few times Felim gestured back towards Gerhard, but their foreign language kept him in the dark. Soon enough, the female turned her attention to Gerhard and smiled with a quick bow, "Hello Spear, my name is Aoife! It's nice to meet you!" "My name... not Spear," choked Gerhard, "Me Gerhard." The sooner he could stop torturing his throat with the Old Tongue, the better. Aoife chuckled and beckoned Gerhard inside. "Please, we can talk more inside. Felim, would you please brew some tea? The kind that our aunt always used to make?" Felim saluted his sister and sprinted off into another room, leaving the two of them alone for now. Aoife guided Gerhard inside and offered him a seat on the couch in the living room. He accepted, then took stock of his surroundings. The house looked somewhat nicer on the inside compared to the shoddy piece of work he had observed earlier. The room he was in wasn't very big, but it did seem cozy. An ornate rug covered most of the floor, and a few simple paintings of the ocean were hung across the walls. There were also some small patchwork tapestries hung between the paintings, each with a unique pattern. A few chairs and a soft couch were positioned in a semi-circle around the biggest tapestry, which had a pink star inside of a pink circle embroidered on it. Judging by the few lanterns hung above his head, he guessed that she didn't have electricity here. "So Spear... I mean, Gur-hawd, what brings you here?" Aoife climbed onto one of the chairs and sat on it, "My brother said you were a tourist, but you don't look like one!" Gerhard shook his head, "No. Me... traveler? Not enemy. Want to find Queen Mother." Aoife tilted her head, "Wow, you're really not from around here, are you? Felim also said that you didn't know our language, is that right?" He nodded. "All right then," Aoife hummed, "Do you know the language of the Southern Ponies?" "Yes." Gerhard sighed in relief knowing that he finally wouldn't have to subject his poor throat to the Old Tongue anymore. Aoife smiled cheerfully and shifted in her seat. "Well then! Zašto se ne prebaciti na ovaj jezik?" Gerhard's heart dropped into his stomach. After Gerhard didn't respond, she looked at him quizzically. "Znate ovaj jezik, zar ne?" In that moment Gerherd remembered something he'd learned long ago while undercover in Equestria. While it was true that the majority of ponies on Equus spoke the same language, the same could not be said for the ponies in Eastern Griffonia. They'd been there long enough to develop their own languages, each distinctly different from their Equestrian counterparts. Aoife didn't speak Equestrian, she spoke... whatever the Riverland Ponies spoke! "Hatcher save me..." groaned Gerhard in defeat.
3 - Tea Time"I'm sorry Gur-hawd, I didn't realize that the language of our Southern Ponies and your ponies were different." Gerhard was rubbing his temple in frustration. Not only was he annoyed at his current predicament, but he couldn't even fully explain how angry he was with his superiors to Aoife. The more he thought about the situation, the more it didn't make sense. VOPS was one of the best, if not the best intelligence agencies in the world, how could they have neglected to consider the possibility that a foreign nation might speak a foreign language? It just didn't add up! He grumbled to himself a little more, then sighed once again. "Me upset. Me not good talker." Aoife offered him a consoling hoof coupled with a comforting smile, "Don't be, it's not your fault. I should have realized that a changeling from a faraway land like you must not know the languages of our neighbors." She paused, her smile turning into a thoughtful expression, Though I am curious, what land do you come from?" Gerhard almost said Equestria, but caught himself before falling into old habits. Fortunately, he knew the name of his homeland in the Old Tongue. "Changeling Lands." Aoife frowned, "That's... I guess that makes sense. What language do they speak there?" "Changeling." She rolled her eyes, much to Gerhard's confusion. "I should have expected as much. Where is your homeland?" "Beyond ocean," said Gerhard. "I see... in which direction, though? Gerhard suddenly realized that he didn't remember the words for cardinal directions. After a moment of deliberation, he firmly pointed in the direction that he assumed was east, leading to the confusion of Aoife. "I think you may have your directions messed up, Gur-hawd. There's nothing but death in those seas." Seas of death? Gerhard wrinkled his brow, What did she mean by that? Suddenly, Felim returned from the kitchen with some drinks in his telekinetic grip. "Here you are, Spear! And one special for you, my favorite sister!" Gerhard hesitantly accepted the drink, then eyed it carefully. He didn't have time to check it for- He stopped himself again. He kept having to remind himself that he was not their enemy. They had no reason to poison him. He took a sip from the cup, and- Hatcher below... His eyes began to water, his hooves trembled, and his wings buzzed. Gerhard quickly began downing the rest of the drink. It was glorious. Beyond that, even! The tea was infused with an exceedingly potent amount of love, and it seemed like it was not even harvested love at that. It was the purest love he'd ever tasted. With each gulp he could feel more and more affection; it was an overpowering warmth and tenderness, the likes of which he hadn't experienced since... ...Since he'd hugged the foals of a pony he had once masqueraded as. Gerhard dropped the cup and hugged himself tightly, trying to preserve the feeling for as long as possible. A worried, feminine voice brought him back to reality. "Are you okay?" He opened his eyes to see that both Felim and Aoife were staring at him like he was a hatchling who had tasted a pony's love for the first time. He coughed and stood up to straighten himself out, only to notice that the cup he was drinking from was now shattered on the ground. He smiled sheepishly, "Sorry about that." Felim and Aoife briefly looked at each other, then returned their attention to him. Aoife rose from her chair and took a step towards Gerhard, concern written all over her face. "Gur-hawd... are you starving?" He shook his head, remembering to speak in the Old Tongue this time. "No. Why you ask?" "The way you drank that tea, it was almost like you'd never tasted love before," Aoife leaned forward, "Are you sure that you're okay?" "Yes. Drink good. Very good," said Gerhard. He made a mental note to get the recipe for that tea later, there was no way he was returning to Vraks without it. For now, his thoughts returned to his mission. "Do you know pony talker beyond ocean? Or where Queen Mother is?" Felim piped up, "Oh, Queen Gytha? I think she's in Blosmport currently! She's not seeing anyling, either!" He winked. Aoife gave her brother a solid punch, then corrected him, "What my brother meant to say was that Queen Gytha is very busy with recent events and doesn't have as much time as she used to. Her schedule is probably booked for some time." Gerhard nodded. Considering his predicament it wouldn't be wise to rush to see the queen. "And pony talker... pony language talker?" His throat cracked as he tried to pronounce the new word. He knew that this would be an uphill battle, but the Old Tongue was absolute torture on his throat. "I'm sorry, but I don't know anyling, or anypony for that matter who might know your language," Aoife paused, then raised her hoof, "But I may know someling who could get you in contact with one. He lives in Bugsmere, actually!" Felim grinned and buzzed his wings excitedly. "Bugsmere? I love Bugsmere this time of year! Can we go, sis? Please?" Aoife sighed, "You don't have to ask me. You're a fully-grown drone, you can make your own decisions." "Where that?" asked Gerhard. He didn't recall any town by that name from his briefing. Felim's grin grew even wider. "Oh, not too far! You have see it! Bugsmere is my favorite place in the world! The flowers are beautiful, everyling is friendly, the hives are bustling with 'lings from all around Greneclyf, there are parks and shops everywhere, and the queens there are so prett-" "I think he gets the point, Felim." chuckled Aoife, "Why don't you take him there? I'll watch your shop while you're away." Gerhard's eye twitched at the prospect of having to spend more time alone with Felim. He'd known him for about an hour and he was already at his wit's end. Not that he found Felim annoying, but he supposed that he wasn't used to being around such an... energetic changeling. "Wow sis, you mean it? Thanks!" Felim practically lept towards the front door, then paused as he reached it. "But wait, who is that changeling you wanted Spear to see?" Aoife stifled a giggle. "Wow, you actually remembered something important before rushing out the door. You really have grown, Felim." "And yet mum still treats you like a hatchling!" countered Felim, earning him another look from his sister. "Who the changeling?" asked Gerhard. He didn't mind a bit of sibling banter, but he didn't want to intrude any further. Aoife was already being too kind to him by inviting a foreigner and complete stranger into her home. He was starting to feel uncomfortable being around her. Gerhard frowned. He felt uncomfortable due to another's kindness. Hmm... Before he could ponder on that further, Aoife answered his question. "His name is Ciaran. He is a good friend of mine who works for the Greneclyfian Cartographer Society! They know all sorts of things since they travel a lot; they would probably be able to help you find a proper interpreter. Normally he'd be here in Blosmport, but he got injured recently at work, so he's resting at his family's hive in Bugsmere now." She turned to Felim, "You remember where our aunt's old hive was? It's right next to that one." Felim nodded, still as excited as ever. "Yes! I know exactly where that is! Let's go!" Though Gerhard could have tried to say that it was rude to not ask a guest if they were ready to leave, he decided that it wasn't worth the effort. He stood from his chair and thanked Aoife for the tea, then headed for the door where Felim looked like he was about ready to bolt. "Felim, Gur-hawd?" Gerhard and Felim both glanced back at Aoife, who was now cleaning up Gerhard's broken cup. She simply smiled at them. "Please stay safe." Warmth rushed over Gerhard, throwing him off balance. What was that? These 'lings got weirder by the minute. He'd definitely need to return to interrogate- er, ask her about their culture later. He felt like Felim wouldn't be a very good source, considering that... "So, wanna play Bug or Bush while we walk?" This was gonna be a long trip to Bugsmere, wherever that was. Author's Note Since I joined the Equestria at War team as a Writer, I have become privy to a lot of knowledge regarding the (at the time of writing) upcoming rework for Greneclyf, so I decided to incorporate as much of the new lore as possible for the remainder of the story. Thanks for understanding, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.
4 - Patience"Felim? Why stop?" asked Gerhard with increasingly apparent exasperation. It hadn't even been thirty minutes since they'd left the house and they had already stopped five times to look at miscellaneous shops. If Felim noticed Gerhard's tone, he didn't show it. He seemed to be mesmerized by a display case full of winter coats and other cold-weather clothing. "Spear! You've got to see what they sell here!" Gerhard whispered a prayer to the Hatcher, then sighed, "No. Want to leave." "But Spear! Let's just go inside real quick to see what they have. I promise that we'll be in and out and on our way in no time!" "Fine," grumbled Gerhard. Maybe the sixth time's the charm? Felim practically catapulted himself into the shop. Gerhard looked up at the sign written above the front door. Éadaí Abhainn. How informative. Taking another look at the display case, he saw some signs next to a few coats bearing the flag of the River Republic. Imported clothing, perhaps? He turned his gaze to the front door. The thought of abandoning Felim again popped up in his mind, but it was quickly dismissed upon thinking of how disappointed Aoife would be in him for making her brother sad... Gerhard shook his head. No, no, his reason for staying with Felim was simply one of logic, that was it. He had no other assets in this country to utilize, and there was no telling how many other changelings here would be willing to help him, or even ones that knew the Old Tongue. There simply wasn't a- Felim poked his head out of the front door to beckon Gerhard inwards. "Hey Spear, are you coming? There's something really cool in here! I think you'll like it!" Gerhard mentally kicked himself for thinking like an infiltrator again. There might be time for that knowledge later. For now, he was simply a glorified tourist until he found a proper interpreter. "Yes. I come." A little jingle announced Gerhard's entrance into the shop. He looked around to see apparel and attire unlike most of what he had seen from the locals thus far. Brightly colored heavy coats, fleeces, scarves, hats, and so on, all of which seemed to be from various nations around the Riverlands. He wasn't too familiar with the cultures of those nations, but the clothing here seemed to speak for itself. There was even a section of tunics and odd-looking helmets next to the flag of... Nimbusia, was it? Something to keep in mind for later, perhaps. Felim stood next to a mannequin adorned in what looked like a gray naval uniform, examining its every detail. "This looks kind of like your clothes, Spear. Isn't it neat?" Gerhard suddenly became aware of how uncomfortable his uniform truly was, as he wasn't accustomed to wearing such things. In stark contrast, the clothing in front of him seemed to look quite snug. He tried to read the description but found that like everything else, he couldn't understand it. "Felim? Where from? How..." Gerhard struggled to remember the word for expensive. Fortunately, Felim seemed to know what he was trying to ask. He pointed at the flag on the price tag, which appeared to be a ship's helm above wavy blue and white lines. "Bakara! The seaponies of the south! And it's not too pricey either, by the looks of it." Gerhard frowned. Seaponies? Here? This was about the furthest place from Hippogriffia, why would there be- Wait, perhaps Felim wasn't talking about them. The Old Tongue was notorious for not having words for certain concepts, so maybe Felim was referring to seafaring ponies. That made more sense. Suddenly, he heard an unfamiliar female voice from the other side of the shop. "Fáilte romhat! Conas is féidir liom cabhrú leat?" It must be the shopkeeper, figured Gerhard. He wasn't especially keen on buying anything, especially since he hadn't been given any money on the assumption that he would be treated as a proper diplomat and provided for. He didn't want Felim to get anything for him either, but Gerhard did need him to tell the shopkeeper that he couldn't understand the language around here. He turned his head towards the speaker to wave hello and- Across the room from him was a smiling earth pony standing behind a counter. Gerhard felt the urge to immediately escape the pony's line of sight and shift into one of his many disguises. With great restraint, he forced a smile and nodded curtly to the mare across the shop from him. She once again said something in the Greneclyfian's native tongue, then gestured to some of the many clothing items around her. Gerhard turned his head away and tried to pretend that something had caught his attention. Felim seemed to notice Gerhard's anxious posture. He tapped on Gerhard's back and pointed at the clothing near the mare. "What, are you scared of ponies? Let's go see what she has to offer!" Oh, Hatcher below... Gerhard steeled himself and followed Felim as he approached the pony running the shop. Felim said something incomprehensible, then the shopkeeper giggled. She replied to Felim and winked at Gerhard, causing the lost changeling to look at Felim in confusion. "What she say?" Felim smiled widely, "Oh, I told her that you get nervous around ponies and she said she has that effect on most stallions." Gerhard's eye twitched. He stood there, mouth agape in equal parts astoundment and bewilderment. The mare batted her eyes and said another indecipherable sentence to Gerhard. With a mischievous grin, she beckoned him over. Out of all the things that Gerhard had prepared for in both his civilian life and time as an infiltrator, a pony flirting with him in his natural form was not one of them. Felim laughed and patted Gerhard on the back again. "All right, we can go now. We can buy something on the way back!" On the way back? What? Why was Felim implying that he'd still be with Gerhard by the time he got what he needed in Bugsmere? Unless... unless this odd drone fully intended to hang around a complete stranger for the foreseeable future. Gerhard shivered at the thought. Greneclyfian changelings were weird. Another thought struck Gerhard as Felim was guiding him out of the shop: He suddenly really wanted to know what that mare was saying. Not for any particular reason, of course. "Felim, what she say?" Felim stifled another laugh, "I'll tell you later." Gerhard ignored his now-burning desire to know what the mare said. Just curiosity, he lied to himself, nothing more. With Felim's window-shopping habits seemingly sated, the two changelings turned towards a path that led further inland, away from the various shops and buildings. As the two walked, Felim attempted to teach Gerhard a few words from the Greneclyfian language. Despite having some trouble pronouncing the odd phrases, he managed to add a few basic greetings to his repertoire of foreign words. At least, he hoped they were basic greetings. Felim hadn't stopped smiling the entire time he was trying to get Gerhard to say certain words correctly. Gerhard made a mental note to not use these new words under any circumstances. The two continued to travel for some time. As the hours passed, the city fully gave way to the countryside, which Gerhard had to admit was quite beautiful. The lightly forested hills and calm scenery reminded him very much of Equestria. The only real difference between the two that he could see were some unique plants every now and then. He surmised that the island must have a fair number of flora and fauna not present anywhere else in the world. A sudden brisk breeze and the soon-to-be setting sun reminded Gerhard of one detail he had yet to ask Felim about. "Felim? Where shelter?" "Oh! We will stay at my cousin's hive! They are very nice, you will love them!" Somehow, Gerhard doubted that. If they were even half as energetic as Felim, they'd drive him insane before morning. But what choice did he have? He dared not risk braving the elements in an unfamiliar environment. Gerhard took another look at the serene landscape, wondering what unknown dangers might be out there, then sighed in defeat. Felim seemed to hear Gerhard's sigh. "You are tired? Don't worry, we'll be there soon!" He grimaced. Patience, Gerhard, he reminded himself. If this gets him closer to a real interpreter, then he would endure anything to get there. Not but a few seconds later, Felim began to barrage Gerhard with all sorts of information about his extended family. From names, to ages, to hobbies, to favorite colors, the drone seemed to have an endless supply of things to talk about. Gerhard discreetly retrieved a pair of earplugs from his bag and granted his ears solace from Felim's ramblings. Almost anything. Author's Note Story is not dead. No promises on next chapter's ETA, though. Gonna try to make them longer.
