War of Sun and Moon

Cursive considered how to best draw a crowd. In smaller towns the novelty of a travelling entertainer was usually enough to ensure he ate and had a roof, but he realized now that he couldn't get by on novelty in Canterlot- he would have to be entertaining enough to catch attention, and interesting enough to hold it. And so he came to a decision- He would sing an epic, one of the ancient tales of heroism older than Equestria itself. they would take some small amount of work to fit to the tune of a song, but the effort would be worth it, no matter how long the tale would take to tell.

"LO, praise of the prowess of pony-kings
of spear-arm'd pegasi, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
gave him gifts: a good king he!..."

((if you feel like posting part of this long speech, it's a part of beowulf. Look it up, find an appropriate part, and ponify-it.))

Postal Rose was far down the road, but was still able to hear the words of an old poem, but barely audible on the winds. The epic poem, one that she often heard when she was a little filly, was one that she hadn't heard in years, but the memories were beginning to flood back. She began to weigh her options. She could either ignore the performance entirely and continue on her deliveries, as if she didn't hear anything. Or she could seek out the source of the recitement.

Postal smiled, her deliveries could wait a little while longer. None of them were too too urgent and she really wanted to do something for herself for once. The worst that could happen was that she looses her job. Postal shivered, loosing her job would be the worst possible thing.

She dashed back into the city, being momentarily held up at security. Postal wanted to meet this pony, or at least get to see him or her.

After having sifted through several metric tons of mail which had accumulated in his backyard - and burning all that displeased him - Hat Trick was still at a loss in discovering the whereabouts of his old friend. The only possibly explanation he could think of for what had happened, the only thing in the world capable of ejecting such a fantastic stallion as Woolie from his best pal's life, the absolutely only viable solution to this quandary, was quite clearly...

No, no, that was just plain stupid.

Now, the only course of actions that Hat Trick could think of was to prance the streets of Everyfree, looking for his poor friend. This he did, quite joyfully.

Nose deep in well earned book, Checkmate found soon that his attention was waning but why? It kept trickling through his inner thoughts. An epic, a story of glories most high, haunted just his conscious mind. Until before long, he found himself longing for the words, singing to a tune he knew not he was hearing. Oh if he could join in in glorious song. Checkmate knew the tale, and been actively singing along where he there to do so. Though with a sigh, he knew he must set his book down and stare out of the window into the day. Something was making him feel... like a true warrior on this day.

Arriving at her room brought out the side of Balestra not many saw. The side that panicked. Already rushing around the room in a flurry, she was hurling items of clothing over her head in a desperate search for the things she required. A quest needed the proper attire after all, and while most merely chose to go as they were, she had a standard of the Guards to keep up.

"Ohh, where can it be? I had it only just last week!" Reaching the bottom of the drawer, she turned back to begin massacring the contents of the wardrobe, oblivious to the mess behind her. Being grey instead of the typical white of most guards often lead to people not seeing her status as one of them, she felt it only necessary to provide a much better method of identifying her.

Outside of Canterlot, not too far out, maybe a mile or so, there was a cave. It could not be seen well from the road, as it was high upon one of the surrounding mountains. But this obscurity did not hide the fact that a pony lived in it. Her name was Strange. As in, that was the first half of her name. Brew was the second half, which unknowing to her parents, made her name a reference to a song by the human band Cream. But this is an unimportant detail.

The deep gray pegasus had not woken up early in the morning. When she had, the first thing she did was check her crystal ball, which clouded up when she hovered her hooves over it. Not a good sign, she thought to herself. She checked the mouth of the cave. It seemed normal. The sun was in its correct position for the time of day, and everything else seemed fine. Serene, almost. But the ball had to be cloudy for some reason, no? From back in the cave, she got her wand, dipped it in white paint, and drew a pentagram on the lip of the cavern . "Celestia, protect us." A ripple of magic could be felt.

Now that the protective spell had been cast on the cave, Brew, as she preferred to be called, was at peace. She hadn't eaten yet, so she did so. And after she had done so, it was time for another day full of brewing and mixing. It wasn't tiresome, it was what she knew how to do. Her cave home was evidence of this: the thin-but-tall room was lined with jars and bottles filled with substances of all colors, bubbling, sparkling, and glowing, interspersed with candles that melted, but never shrank or extinguished themselves. In the middle of the room sat a large metal cauldron, big enough for Brew herself to fit around in and which reflected the cutie mark on her flank. For now it was empty, but soon it would be filled with mystical concoctions. Or so she thought...

Opening her leather-bound journal, she opened to the most recently used page with a spell she had wanted to try mixing. Paying close attention to the ingredients, she flew around the shelves, selecting certain substances that would be used to make up the potion. But as she went to select the last ingredient, the bottle was found to be empty. Must have forgotten to enchant the bottle. She sighed, realizing this would mean she would have to go to the town to find the last substance. Releasing her magical grasp on the other bottles, she placed them down next to the cauldron. Said magical grasp latched onto her black, wide-brimmed, pointed hat which she always wore out of the house, and placed it on the thick orange swirl that was her mane. It jingled with the bits she had kept on the inside. With a running start, she ran toward the entrance of the cave, and just as she would have fallen off the ledge, she made a magnificent leap (as horses are known to do) and extended her wings, gliding on the the winds toward the town near the castle. She looked behind her at the pentagram drawn in white, hoping that it would keep away whatever bad was going to happen.

Checkmate sighed as his gaze drifted from the window, and his longing of heroism slowly began to fade. “It’ll never happen” he said to himself, yet allowing his gaze to now linger on his suit of armor so close to the door. The armor was all he had to be prideful of in this job if he was being perfectly honest. It wasn’t his ceremonial garb, which he kept piled under things in his closet, no this was his suit, his pride and joy. It was cold polished steel, not ornate in the slightest. The only thing he could claim was off about that suit was that it quite simply had never been used outside of combat practice.

But alas, he knew that he would never get the chance to use it. Equestria was more or less safe, and he knew it would remain that way. All the major events or conflicts that ever did happen always occurred so far from the capitol. No, some other pony always got the glory. Some other pony was the knight in shining armor who saved the town… and got the girl, not that he had need of that last part, he wasn’t really sociable enough to worry about that. However, he knew he was the one who would live and die in obscurity, history eventually forgetting his presence, he was the one who would mean to little to time.

Cursive smiled as the crowd gathered about him, listening to him recite one of the oldest tales known to pony kind. He was forced, simply by reason of having planned something for the next day so that he could not return to finish his tale tomorrow, to exclude details and shortain descriptions,even skipping scenes his expert eye to story structure told him were irrelivent and unnecessary, but even so his musical rendition continued, and likely would for another hour or so, based on his current rate of recitation. Already he had acrued a large pile of bits in his hat, and was already considering taking the hat back,as he doubted he would ever have need ofthis many bits. It seemed giving a good performance of a story most commonly told via dull lecture and long, boring plays paid well, especially when ponies felt like they were giving a gift in doing the paying.

He reminded himself to stop thinking about other things and focus on his singing, he had missed a good three notes and forgotten the tune he was playing on his lute back there.

Cursive playing the lute was a sight to behold- the instrument had originally been designed for unicorns, and a true recreation for the magically dis-inclined was likely decades away, with the pace the musical industry moved at, but his was specially made by his mother, and came with a special sleeve one could use to attach a pick in order to pluck the strings.His playing was a little harsher and less controlled than that of a unicorn, but he made up for it by matching his singing to the tune, becoming harsher and less controlled himself. It was hardly genre-defying, but it certainly wasn't standard fare, and ponies did love what they hadn't seen before.

It didn’t take long at all for Checkmate to be admiring himself in his mirror. Which is to say he was fully armored in his barding. The glistening steel looked wonderful in the mostly dim room, reflecting only the light that came through from the windows. Granted it wasn’t dark, but he liked the effect. The weight of the armor was comforting. It made him feel protected, and like he was with what strength he had, doing something. Not that he was of course, he was intentionally not drilling his men to give them a break, and had for whatever reason decided to use this free time to stare at himself in the mirror, so it was likely the opposite of doing anything. Ah, but aside from drills today’s work was done, no one was going to need him, and he was just wasting time until he was truly free to leave the base and wander around town.

Still now, in this armor, he had managed to convince himself to ignore his previous reflections if for but a while. It was at that moment though, he remembered something important. Balestra was leaving… on a quest, tonight. He’d promised not to tell, of course, but this wasn’t about telling… this was about showing up. He trusted Balestra could look after herself sure, but two ponies? Especially with one of them being what appeared to be an untrained civilian? Well she was certainly going to need help. For now, he was going to need to stare out his window… and wait for her to pass by, see if he could discuss his coming along… they were just warhorses… and without a war… sitting here was a waste of both of their talents.

It was no use, no matter how many items that she almost tore from their places, her light armour set was seemingly absent. But how? All she could locate in the end was the strap which held her foil when attending formal meetings. Unless... "Checkmate!" It made a little sense, his sense of humor was twisted, and he did show concern about her decision to go along with Cursive. What better way to prevent her from doing that than hide her armour somewhere. And even if she worked it out, it would provide him a chance to talk her out of it.

Exiting the room with a cheesy grin to avoid suspicion that she was on her way to say quite a few nasty things, it didn't take long for her to arrive at Checkmate's door. Raising her hoof with intent, she quickly tapped at it impatiently. "Mind telling me where you hid my set? I do need it after all." Pacing around for a few moments, she did her best to maintain a positive attitude around other guards as they did their patrols. Undoubtedly they knew anyway that she was up to something, and right outside Checkmate's room...

Checkmate was rightfully surprised by a knocking. He must have managed to blink right through their approach, whoever they were. Upon hearing Balestra’s voice though… he kind of panicked. “Uh… just a second!” he said, frantically moving to the door, unbuckling his armor, and knocking over more piles of books than needed to be done. He consigned himself to being unable to get it off though, and instead stood there, half wearing armor, helmet somewhere on the floor, as he opened the door. “Y-yes?” he asked, nervously.

Now how did he pop the question? It would seem really, really strange of him to just out and say “Can I come with you? Your friend looks like he might not be too battle worthy… and also I need my own shot at glory… and also…” well he cut himself off there, it was likely better to wait for Balestra to say whatever she was here to say. Give him time. Though, he was sure he looked a strange site in his combat gear.

Just a second? She couldn't hide the airhoof of success as her suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Panicked, seemingly at her presence! That could only mean he had done something that was clearly dire enough to keep her outside long enough for him to clean up the evidence. Clearly a devious mind, perfect for his role as tactician. But she could match his mind surely.

As the door open, she glared at him for a long moment, crimson eyes trying to burrow into his mind. Stepping past him, she sniffed at the sight of him half dressed in armour, peering around the room in search of her properly. "Clearly, you have quite the mind to outwit me. But I caught on soon enough..." It seemed he had caused quite a mess too, at least they had that in common.

"So, tell me..." Turning back to look at him, so far failing to locate her gear, she tapped her hoof in rhythm with the expectation of a clear answer. "What is it you wanted me in here for, that you found necessary to deprive me of my armour to achieve?" She had a few ideas, some she found rather, interesting.

Checkmate, with all of his training, with all of his mental fortitude and capacity, with all of the tactical might at his command immediately uttered a flat “What.” As he blinked several times in Balestra’s direction. Did she just accuse him of something? What is going on here? “Outwit you… what?” he tried to follow where she was looking, hoping for at least some excuse for what she was looking for. He certainly didn’t recall taking anything of hers… did he?

“I… what’re you…” he sighed quickly, there was probably going to be no reasoning with her right now… best to just let her ruin his room a little bit more, and tidy up behind her. Though, nothing could stop him from blushing when she said her last sentence. “Your… your armor? Why… why would I have your armor?” He wasn’t going to mention the few words immediately prior… they were well… going to invoke unsavory images unbefitting of his station, and besides, he was about to go out and look for her. He could only stand there nervous, hoping nopony else was listening in on them…

She shook her head again, clearly he was playing dumb and trying to avoid her line of question. Heading right for him, she pressed her head right into his, intending to stare him down into submission. "Don't insult me by pretending not to know. It is far too obvious that you intended to delay my beginning of the quest, for the purpose of discouraging it from me entirely!"

Leaving him where he stood, she proceeded to begin cleaning up his rather messy room, intending to find what she sought along the way. "By the way, what exactly were you planning with only a handful of your items on? I must say that this is hardly the time to be galavanting with the other female guards, few as they are..."

Checkmate stumbled back into the things he’d only just cleaned, knocking them over yet again. “E-excuse me. I do not gallivant. Normally... I’ll have you know, I was getting ready to… well… ask… if maybe… you’d like…” he began… leaving an unfortunately long pause as he redid many of his straps, and placed his helmet back on his head, and striking a pose. “Be okay with me coming along on your quest.” he beamed, at least a little bit… hoping his bravado would help make sure she was okay with it. “Wait… you… you think I wanted to stop you?” he tilted he head, looking at her. “Why… why would I do that?”

Checkmate was confused now… he recalled actually claiming he’d go out on a limb to help her, which was normally against his nature. And… why would he… have stolen her… this was silly. She was being silly, and he was being silly, and the only thing he could do was start to laugh softly to himself, at himself. And here he was worried about seeming to forward.

Making her way over to the window in frustration, she idly looked over at the crowd admiring Cursive's speaking ability. It wasn't her sort of entertainment unfortunately, it required too much quiet, and remaining still for long periods of time. Looking back over her shoulder at his mumbling, she settled down in her mood enough to not appear uptight about everything. Though, she was rather surprised that his intentions were rather the opposite of her assumptions.

"Oh, don't be silly, of course it would be fine for you to come along. But, since you made a point before about being unsure of my safety, I assumed you would try to keep me from going." Looking back out, she was still wondering about what exactly the storyteller had in mind for the coming day. "So, you didn't steal my armour? Shame, seems I came here for no reason at all then."

“Well that was an abrupt change of mood, if I must say.” said Checkmate, still laughing. He did have to sigh audibly as she finished, losing much of the confidence he’d had, and all of the false confidence he'd been showing. That last phrase hit home just a little bit too much. She wasn’t even going to say goodbye, or anything of the sort? That hurt… Still, she didn’t need to now, so it wasn’t that important, he supposed. “Well… I can help you look for it, at least.” he offered, always wanting to make himself at least somewhat helpful to his friends. “It couldn’t have wandered too far. You’re one of the only ponies I know who wears such light armor.” he was pretty sure it was just in her room… and heck, probably out in the open.

“Wherever you’d like to start looking, do lead the way. Worst case scenario, there should be spares somewhere, right?” now that might have just been Checkmate’s over preparedness showing. He had spares for each piece of his armor somewhere in his room, though he’d be leaving them behind. It just seemed like good thinking to make sure you had extras.

Turning away from the window, she carefully made her way over, noting his eagerness to help. Maybe she had been a little presumptuous, and now he wanted to undo that. "I like agility, metal weighs on my flank anyway." Pacing around the room again, she continued to sort things out as her usual tendency to do so came to bear. He really needed a bit more organization in his life.

Her calm mood quickly fizzled at the suggestion of spares... "Spares! Why... Why would anyone settle for spares!" Exiting the room in a flurry, she found herself galloping around in a hasty attempt to locate her armour before he mentioned it again. "Don't you know that I have put months into making that set of mine fit right, I can't go on a quest in spare equipment."

Checkmate was once again awestruck at how… down right excitable Balestra could be. She just took off line an arrow released from the bow. “Wait up!” he called, clinking in his armor as he ran as fast as he could. It thankfully wasn’t too much of an impediment on how fast he could move, but it was certainly going to let Balestra get an edge on him if she ran for longer, and it was heavy besides… and he didn’t want to think about how hard stopping was going to be inside of his iron and steel coffin.

Perfectly fit armor sounded nice though. He’d not much time to learn the craft of the blacksmith, which is to say he never did, so his armor was custom made for him by a friend of the family. He supposed then that yes, replacements were foalish to consider when placed alongside hand done craftsmanship. “You never mentioned you knew how to make armor!” he said, hoping a conversation would slow her down just a bit.

Already rifling through her room again, it was a flurry of mere throwing and horn magic as she ploughed through the already searched items. "Oh, it became necessary after the first few weeks, I could barely stand in the ones they gave me." Burying her head into the wardrobe again, it seemed ridiculous that it was nowhere to be found.

Coming back up for air, she scampered around the room again, proceeding to begin lifting furniture to search. "If you'd be a dear and help. I wouldn't want to keep you from your other duties, but I must have it if I am to go you see."

Shaking his head to clear the next of things that was now his head, Checkmate sighed and decided to try to help her search his own way. Physically, but far more mentally. “What did you do with it last?” he inquired, checking through her wardrobe for her, just to double check. It was armor, so it couldn’t have been hiding in too many places, it’s light be damned. Though he would like to have noted to himself, he felt a little wrong going through her things for her… it was just wasn’t something he could rightfully condone. If anyone else saw him… like even just Fleche, he was likely blushing as it was.

Still eventually he moved on to drawers, and double checking things she’d thrown about the room. He was pretty preferring of double checking before you did something silly, like throw what you wanted. He wasn’t quiiiite sure Balestra was in that kind of mood though.

Sitting down in the middle of the mess for a moment, she took that short time to think about her actions. "I'm certain I left it in here, which is why I could only assume someone else had taken it from here." Glancing around again, she quickly got to her hooves and hurried over to the ponyquin beside the door. "Ohh, here you are!"

Flicking the helmet off the stand, she proudly caught it on her head, pacing around to show it off in pride. "Mmh, it feels so good to have it back." Quickly putting on the other items, she made her way back to Checkmate. "Ohh thank you for helping, I don't know what I would have done without you."

Checkmate just sighed good naturedly this time and shook his head with a smile on his face. He did have to admit, it looked pretty nice. The leather looked strong, and form fitting enough to be protective, but supple enough to stretch at least a little. He couldn’t wear it mind you, his battle style being to stand defiant in the center of the maelstrom of combat, and make sure the tides turned on him as his allies picked off those too busy to worry about them. Which he supposed, would have been great if the ponies under his command were anywhere near as agile as Balestra. “C’est magnifique” he mused, not clarifying what the this was in the statement. Still, he was glad this was sorted out, and now they both looked like proper warriors. In a way, he pitied those of the guard who had to stand in the castle all day, golden armor shining, but otherwise useless. It was sad.

Nodding at his compliment, she kept her head high as she exited the room once more at an even pace. "Well, now that I am properly attired, shall I help you get dressed too for the occasion? We should appear appropriately for his performance of course." Casually making her way back to his room, cleaning up her own seemed like a duty that wasn't terribly important anymore. What was important was that Checkmate wasn't going around looking silly with most of his armour absent.

Checkmate tilted his head for a moment, before raising his head, shocked. Yeah… yeah he was only partially armored… to anypony watching he’d just run from his room, to Balestra’s, only half in gear. That would be… extremely confusing to explain… for multiple reasons… he wasn’t even supposed to be wearing armor right now, for instance.

“Y-yes… let’s uh… let’s let me go get the rest of this on. Most appreciated.” he said, as he slowly backed out of her room, and trotted as nonchalantly back to his as he could. Hopefully… no one would notice the cross room rampage that just kept happening through here… and maybe he’d avoid suspicion. Couldn’t have anyone trying to stop their quest after all. His compatriots would just have to figure it out tomorrow, when there was a note stuck to his door explaining that he had some glory to win. Oh if only the guard got vacation days, this’d be much easier.

Either way, once inside he began the process of redonning that which he'd thrown off earlier. It was more or less easy with magic, but it was still heavy, and getting heavier with every additional piece he added. Oh well, he had to look snazzy... and besides, he'd worn this for an entire day straight as practice once... it wasn't so bad...