Artemis Sparkshower

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Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was feeling pretty ashamed of herself.

How could she have spent the whole flight unprepared for the possibility that Anonymous, Lily, and Honour would need her help if anything went wrong? It wasn’t just because she was a pegasus; she hadn’t gone and temporarily forgotten that other ponies didn’t always have wings, nope, no-way, nuh-uh, nossir!

For one, Artemis had never even heard of anything ever going 'wrong' with one of Her Royal Majesty's Royal Flying Carriages before. And even if something did go wrong, the carriages always carried Princess Celestia, who could certainly use her own magic to fix the problem.

Plus, the pegasi pulling the carriage probably knew what to do in an emergency.

And Artemis would surely have dived down after them if anything had happened! Regardless, she was disappointed with herself for her failure to 'Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome' -- the official motto of the Armored Scouts. Especially after seeing how everypony looked inside the carriage!

At first, she’d put their strange postures down to excitement and a desire to relax a bit. But when the corporal clued her in to what she might need to do, well, that put their strange sitting positions in a whole new light. It was while Artemis was in this rather guilty state of mind that she heard somepony call out from above in Griffonese.

"Stop right there, criminal scum!"

Spear at the ready, Artemis looked up and saw a griffon high up in the sky.

‘Oh, it’s Private First Class Featherhooves.’

Hey, wait a minute! Where did she get off calling Artemis a 'criminal'?

This Griffon and her jokes!

The jester of a Private came screeching down like she was pouncing on prey, and Artemis saw Eb and Honour move to ready their weapons, while Glamerspear took a step back.

Sensing a need to defuse the situation, Artemis piped up. "It's okay, everypony, I know her; she's Royal Guard."

Glamerspear held her ground, but the corporal still had her hoof on her spear, and the sergeant kept her eyes on the airborne intruder.

‘Uhh, is Featherhooves going to slow down or…’

Ebonshield leaped backwards and away, while their VIP turned his head and put his arm up to shield his face.

WHOOMP!

The Griffon crashed down to the ground in the open space between the group, spattering everyone with mud, dirt and dust, but otherwise landing perfectly on her feet despite keeping up a tremendous speed until the very end. Recovering faster than Artemis had thought possible, Featherhooves stepped over and playfully punched her pauldron.

"What's up, Specialist Sparkshower? Didn't think I'd see you back in my neck of the woods so soon!"

She switched to speaking Equestrian, which didn’t do much to put her companions at ease, what with all the mud now coating them. Including Anonymous.

Artemis noisily cleared her throat. "Ahem. Private Featherhooves, may I introduce Anonymous, By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer of Equestria."

As before, when Artemis had revealed that she wasn’t a Valkyrie, Featherhooves' eyes did that funny griffon thing where they went as narrow as dots and then as wide as dinner plates.

"Oh, uh..."

Snapping to attention, she jumped into an enthusiastic, but shabby salute that definitely wouldn't pass muster in the VIP service. "... Sorry, your Lordship! I didn't mean to interrupt your official business!"

One of the carriage-pullers trotted over and gave Anonymous a towel, scowling in Featherhooves' general direction.

Artemis’ VIP took his time dusting himself off before replying.

"Do you always greet visitors by dive-bombing them, Private?"

Artemis’ griffon comrade gulped.

"Uhm... Well, sir, if we're flying DRAGCAP, and we suspect that they're intruders..."

Artemis doubted that her VIP knew the acronym for 'DRAgon/Griffon/Changeling Air Patrol' -- named for the three flying creatures most commonly watched for as potential threats to Equestria -- so Artemis spoke up in her defense.

"Sir, Private Featherhooves was the soldier tasked with escorting and introducing me to the smith here, Mister Bronzehorn."

Her VIP nodded and passed the towel over to Corporal Bound, who wiped herself off as well.

"Mm-hmm. Well, since she's here, why doesn't she introduce the rest of us as well?"

Featherhooves saluted again, a little more properly this time. "Sir, yes, sir!"

As Anonymous turned away to get his personal effects from the luggage-box, Artemis leaned over to the prankster Private and spoke in a hushed voice, holding her bascinet-visor up with one hoof. "What are you even doing out here, Featherhooves?"

She gave the pegasus a sheepish grin. "I got given double-duty DRAGCAP after the stunt with you and Major Bloodnok back at the Fort. When I saw one of the Royal Flying Carriages swing in to land, I thought maybe it was your VIP, and moved closer to investigate. Then I saw you and, uh..."

The Griffon reached up and scratched awkwardly at her feathery neck -- largely covered by the bronze gorget she was now wearing. "... I guess I was so excited to say hello again, I forgot that you had somepony important with you. And I thought the mud would be a fun prank. Sorry about that."

Artemis was starting to understand why the corporal was always shaking her head and rolling her eyes at her -- because she felt like doing it to Private Featherhooves, here. And, sure enough, from a few paces away, Honour was already at it, having passed the cleaning towel on to Glamerspear.

Sighing, Artemis spoke up again. "Just... try to keep it together in front of the Royal Engineer, okay? He's a friendly and forgiving colt, but this is serious business for him. Somepony has already threatened him, so he needs to get equipped. You understand, podruga?"

The Griffon nodded. "Don't worry, I won't embarrass you again!" The black band around her right eye got bigger as she lifted an eyebrow. "... But who would threaten the Royal Engineer of Equestria? Isn't he kind of a big deal?"

Artemis shook her head. "I'll tell you about it later."

Specialist Glamerspear, cleaned off and steady on her hooves, tossed the towel at Artemis while sneering at Featherhooves. She almost had to drop her spear to catch the towel before it landed in the road.

"All you need to know, bird-brain, is that they play hard games. Not like your childish crap, Private."

Featherhooves frowned angrily at the unicorn, but Glamerspear just shook her head in disgust and trotted off.

Sighing, Artemis began to wipe her own armor down. Featherhooves really did manage to get the stuff everywhere!

"Don't mind her. She's under the weather right now, and the ride over here wasn't as smooth as Princess Celestia makes it look to be."

The Griffon looked just about ready to administer a sharp comeback, but bit her tongue instead. Eventually, she just sighed. "I guess I have exceeded my 'ponies pissed off' quota for today. I don't want to wind up flying double-shift DRAGCAP until the fall molt."

Artemis nodded.

"Any time now, Private." From over closer to the building, Corporal Bound called the pegasus over, waiting with their VIP and the rest of the quaternion.

Featherhooves snapped to parade rest. "Yes, Corporal! Right this way, Mister--"

Artemis quickly leaned over and whispered a correction into her ear. "Lord Engineer."

"--Lord Engineer, sir!"

Anonymous nodded in acknowledgement, and the two of them pulled open the door to head in first.

Inside, Bronzehorn Arms and Armor looked just the same as it had that afternoon, except darker, though a number of lamps hanging from the ceiling provided sufficient illumination. All four of the plastered interior walls were covered with bronze weapons, and three, two-tier shelves in the middle of the room were piled with pieces of armor. There were some new bundles at the shopkeeper's table, though; four suits of armor, each tied up neatly with string. Those must have been the rush orders for the Princess-Cadenza's Regiment’s new diamond dog recruits.

Stepping forward with Featherhooves, Artemis made for the bell hanging beside the table. Behind her, Anonymous and the rest of the quaternion entered and began to window-shop the materials on display.

"Wow, is this a store or an armory?" Glamerspear seemed particularly interested in the variety of helmets on exhibit.

Sergeant Ebonshield, meanwhile, was admiring the swords. "This is quite the collection, yes."

Artemis pulled eagerly on the service-bell's rope, and it shook out a hollow clatter. From far beyond the curtain covering the entrance deeper into the building, she heard a deep voice bellow.

"Just a minute!"

Featherhooves rolled her eyes beside the pegasus. "I can't believe he uses that as a call."

Artemis shook her head. "Why not? He heard it back there all right."

The Griffon scoffed. "It's a cowbell, Sparkshower. And he's a bronzesmith! He should make himself a big clock-bell, or a nice tuned cylinder..." She gestured eagerly with her talons. "... or like a huge freaking gong, with a big mallet to match! It'd be appropriately sized, at least."

There was a dull, rhythmic thudding coming from inside the building. And it was getting louder, and closer…

Artemis was not afraid of the smith, but she was feeling intimidated again just thinking about him.

Five fat black fingers grasped the edge of the curtain, and they drew it back in one swift motion. With his hooves pounding loudly against the earth floor, Gunther Bronzehorn -- who might just be Equestria's largest minotaur, at least as far as Artemis knew -- entered the room, wearing a large leather apron and carrying another bundled up set of armor.

Immediately, he looked down at Featherhooves as he pulled the curtain shut again. "You're just in time, Private. And I see you're properly dressed. But I wasn't going to send word that these were done until morning."

Featherhooves shook her head. "I'm not here for the armor, Bronzehorn. Specialist Sparkshower here is back with her VIP."

The minotaur smith put the bundle down and wiped a broad forearm across his blackened snout, looking over the new customers in his shop. "So she is." With the same loud whump Artemis had heard earlier that day, only doubled this time, he leaned forward and rested both of his huge arms on the table.

‘Geez, you could conceal a whole platoon behind those massive slabs.’

Turning around, Artemis saw that Anonymous was still inspecting some of the armor pieces on display. He was holding some kind of strange helmet in his hands.

Looking back at the smith, she indicated her VIP with a wave of her forehoof, and raised her voice for everyone to hear. "Mister Bronzehorn -- this my VIP, Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria."

The enormous minotaur nodded his head, his wide-shanked horns waving in the air. "I figured." He lifted his arm and extended a hand, raising his voice to a loud boom. "Welcome to Bronzehorn Arms and Armor, my Lord."

Wearing a polite smile, Anonymous stepped forward and stretched out his own hand.

"I'm Gunther Bronzehorn, proprietor."

Her VIP shook hands with the minotaur, who looked big enough to just straight-up lift him into the air. Or throw him all the way back to Canterlot, even.

Nonetheless, the Royal Engineer remained calm and polite. "A pleasure to meet you, Mister Bronzehorn. I hope it's not too late for a business call?"

Even Anonymous had to turn his head up to talk to the Minotaur -- and the Royal Engineer was taller than Princess Luna!

The bull’s huge horns swiveled left and right as the minotaur shook his head. "It's never too late to do good business. What do you need?"

"I'm here to get a suit of armor and a set of weapons made."

Bronzehorn laid his massive slab of an arm down on the desk again. "Uh-huh, well, you're in the right place. Your bodyguard here said you were something unique, and I don't think I've seen any of your kind before, so I guess she was right."

"I'm afraid I'm the only one in Equestria, as far as I know."

From behind black lips, the minotaur grinned his white herbivore teeth down at Artemis’ VIP, masticating aimlessly. "Good, I like a challenge. What do you need equipment for? You commissioning into the Royal Guard?"

The Royal Engineer smiled, before looking over at Ebonshield. "Not exactly... Sergeant, perhaps you could explain the situation?"

The batpony trotted over and bowed twice -- first, to Anonymous, and then to the blacksmith.

"Certainly, Great Lord. Honorable blacksmith, the Great Lord does not plan to commission into the 'Guardia Real.' Rather, he must be equipped for duelling. The possibility is greatest that he would be matched against a pony -- pegasus, or even earth or unicorn -- but it would be preferable if he were ready to face any foe."

As she spoke in her batpony accent, the Minotaur's big eyes narrowed.

"The Great Lord intends to take instruction in combat and will be training in the armor, as well. We will all be training with him, so as to prepare him for the different kinds of foes he may face. There may, therefore, be damage to the suit during this educational period."

When she was done speaking, Bronzehorn scratched his chin and addressed himself to Anonymous. "Fair enough. What kind of armor do you want? Your sergeant sounds like she already has something in mind."

The Royal Engineer gave a deferential glance to Ebonshield, but the batpony merely bowed and shook her head. "I have not presupposed a particular arrangement. This was my hope that by meeting, we could decide the best combination of the armorer's art and the Great Lord's abilities and preferences."

Bronzehorn nodded. "I see... Well, what are your 'abilities and preferences,' then, m'Lord? Or would you like to hear my suggestions first?"

Anonymous put on a pleasant smile. "I'd appreciate your suggestions, mister Bronzehorn."

The thick meaty slabs of minotaur arms lifted off of the table, and Gunther, the enormous smith, stood up straight again. No wonder the ceiling was so high in there! In any ordinary building, his head would be through to the next floor, and his horns would be slapping ponies in their faces.

Stepping out from behind his desk, Bronzehorn headed over to the armor racks. "In general, there's three kinds of armor. There's your ordinary 'middleweight' tier of banded armor, like what they're wearing." Picking up a sample cuirass off the shelves in one hand, he pointed at Corporal Bound, Private First Class Featherhooves, and Specialist Sparkshower with the other, before lingering a while on the unicorn.

"She's got a special helmet, but otherwise it's basically one of these. Here, this is sized for a minotaur of about your height; feel the weight." Bronzehorn handed it over to Anonymous, who held it in both hands, hefting it up and down a bit. "The Royal Guard, being a standing army, mostly equips its soldiers with medium armors like these because they're heavy enough to provide good protection, without being too heavy for ponies to march or fly long distances in. Properly fitted and supported, most barely even notice it."

Glamerspear scoffed. "Pfft. We notice it alright."

Bronzehorn didn’t even have to step toward the unicorn in order to loom over her. "I didn't make your armor, Specialist. But I can tell from here you need it pulled in at the shoulder and let out in the croup."

Artemis’ unicorn comrade was taken aback by his verdict, twisting her head around to look herself over. "What? This is how I always wear it..."

Honour leaned over and pushed on the puzzled Specialist's croupiere. Rather than transferring the force to her flank, Artemis could see the armor push against Glamerspear's leg instead.

"Hey!"

Corporal Bound smiled. "Looks like you need to let that plot-belt out a notch."

Glamerspear frowned angrily, and twisted around to adjust her armor, muttering under her breath. "I've always kept this buckle at the second hole, damn it! Gonna have to run loops around Canterlot Mountain for a week..."

Honour smirked, while Ebonshield barely concealed a chuckle.

Bronzehorn just stepped over and took the helmet back from Anonymous. "There's different styles, of course, and each piece -- cuirass, greaves, sabots, bracers, helmet -- is independent enough that you don't have to wear all of them if you choose not to. You can also take a medium-weight armor and add extra pieces to provide better protection to certain areas without making it as heavy as a full plate suit. And speaking of those..." From a bottom shelf, he hefted up an enormous, barrel-shaped cuirass of thick bronze. "... Here's a heavy plate cuirass I made for a dragon - a young one - decades ago. He's outgrown it, now, but I keep it on display in case anyone walks in thinking I can't handle bigger jobs."

With a heavy thud, Bronzehorn plonked the huge, bronze, flattened-cylinder down in the center of the room in front of everypony. Almost on top of everypony, given how tall it was.

"I won't ask you to pick this one up; it might even weigh more than you do. Most dragons usually prefer something with more articulation in the chest, but this customer wanted to feel invincible even if they gave up some maneuverability, so I made him what he wanted. A better example is probably what your bodyguard is wearing, though."

He pointed straight at Artemis. "That's as standard a heavy armor setup as they come, Royal Guard or otherwise. It's not nearly as heavy as this, but it'll be completely impervious to slashing and chopping, and pretty resistant to thrusting and clubbing, too. It looks like it might impede movement, but again, if it's fitted well, it shouldn't interfere with motion at all. Your muscles will still know the difference if you march around in it all day, though, and even a good, long fight can tire you out faster than in medium armor. It also gets a lot sweatier inside, so it's very important to have a good arming doublet underneath to prevent chafing and overheating." Tipping the huge dragon-mail on its side - an act that seemed difficult even for a hulk his size - he rolled it back underneath the shelves, then dusted his hands off.

"Lastly, there's light stuff, like what she's wearing." He pointed at Ebonshield. "I've only seen a few of your nocturnal kind around, but I've done some pieces for them. That looks like mostly leather you're wearing, which may be better than nothing, but doesn't count for much in my book. You must be fast on your hooves -- and your wings."

At first looking somewhat shocked that the Minotaur had ever seen another batpony, Ebonshield eventually relaxed her expression and bowed her head, acknowledging the compliment.

Bronzehorn turned sideways to squeeze between Anonymous and Honour -- even though they were standing several hooves apart! -- to step behind his desk once more. With another loud whump, he plopped an enormous black forearm down on the table. "That's the basics of armor types. When it comes to duelling, my advice would be to go with the heaviest armor you're comfortable fighting in."

Their VIP spoke up. "Why the heaviest?"

Bronzehorn waved a finger in the air. "Because most formal duels don't go on long enough to really tire out the combatants. If it's a matter of pride, it's considered unsporting to win by exhausting your opponent. And if you show up with too much armor, you can always take some pieces off. So, get the heaviest you can handle - and afford."

Anonymous lifted an eyebrow. "And how much are we talking about, here?"

The huge horns bobbed up and down as Bronzehorn nodded his head. "I'm not going to tell you anyone can buy good armor. It's expensive." He nodded in Artemis’ direction. "The Royal Guard requires soldiers enlisting in the Armored Corps to serve for an additional three years, to make up the cost of providing armor. And that's not even custom-made stuff."

The Minotaur stood up tall and proud. "Bronze is, itself, expensive to make, but it's the labor and the knowledge that you're really paying for. We know how to smelt bronze just right for armor -- it's an old family recipe. And we know how to make metal get into the right shape with the right hardness and strength, and attach the right fittings so that you can fight at peak effectiveness. That's why I've got this gallery here; none of these pieces are for sale, because each of them has a story attached. Some were gifts from satisfied customers who retired: the ones where you can see pock-marks and gashes that didn't make it all the way through. Saved their lives, and let them win the fight. The rest are just to show off what we can do."

He crossed his arms imposingly in front of his chest, and huffed out through his big brown nostrils. "For a suit of custom-made, custom-fit heavy armor, you're looking at about a hundred thousand bits."

Featherhooves' eyeballs did that zoom-in/zoom-out thing again, and even Glamerspear looked a bit shocked. Ebonshield and Honour, however, seemed like they already knew this. And, to be honest, Artemis did too. Whenever she -- or anyone else -- screwed up during heavy armor exercises, Drill Sergeant Mareline Tandem never tired of shouting, 'You don't own that armor! Princess Celestia does! Your ego is writing checks that your plot can't cash!'

Still, the standard Royal Armory set had a replacement cost of twenty or thirty thousand bits at most. That's how much the Royal Guard would dock their pay if they were found to have wantonly abandoned their equipment. If Artemis remained at Specialist rank, she could just barely pay that off in thirty years. And they'd have to be frugal years earning active mission pay, not garrison half-pay. If she cracked her way into the officer corps, though, she could cut that time down to a tenth. So just how much was Anonymous' allowance from the Princesses?

"I'll have to clear it with the Chancellor of the Exchequer, but that's within my budget."

Glamerspear's eyes went even wider. She clearly didn't realize just how much trust the Princesses placed in Anonymous. Well, it was obvious Her Majesty Princess Luna trusted him, at least! Otherwise, Ebonshield wouldn't be there -- or, she would, but their unit wouldn't have known anything about her.

Bronzehorn nodded. "I can take a deposit now, say ten percent, if you'd like to get started with measurements and design tonight. You must be in a hurry if you came all the way here in that flying contraption outside."

The Royal Engineer reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cheque book and quill case. "That's reasonable." As he scribbled, he looked up at the towering black monolith. "...Do you work only in bronze? What about steel?"

The Minotaur squinted. "What the Theseus is 'steel'?"

Just like the gentle, mushroom-picking Minotaur from Berry, Bronzehorn also swore using that race's equivalent of Tartarus -- or, rather, a fiendish creature said to dwell in their version of it.

Artemis’ VIP finished writing the cheque and held it out. "'Steel' is an iron alloy. It's extraordinarily strong."

Still squinting, the smith took the cheque and grabbed a ledger from beneath his desk, copying details down with a thick pencil. "Sounds magical. I don't do magic here, though I can recommend you some enchanters after the armor is done. But if you want a custom metal formulation, I do have a bloomery hot enough for iron work; I sometimes use iron for fittings. You'd have to be here to instruct us in the recipe, though."

Anonymous shook his head. "I can't teach you, I'm afraid. I know the general ingredients, but I don't have the exact ratios and procedures for the different kinds of steel. I used to just pick different ones out of a catalog when I needed them... Producing steel is going to be a top priority for my work very soon, and I've been hoping that maybe someone in Equestria has already stumbled on the formula. On my world, when easy sources of bronze ran out in ancient times, we managed to figure out primitive steels within a few centuries." He gave a wry smile. "Hopefully it doesn't take me that long."

Bronzehorn gave a single heavy chuckle. "Heh. No kidding."

Having finished writing up the order, he placed the cheque in the book and tore off a receipt, pushing the slip across the desk to their VIP. As Anonymous took it and put away his own writing-materials, the Minotaur stood up tall again, then reached over and pulled back the curtain.

"Alright, why don't you step into the back-room and we'll get you measured up before talking details." Leading the way, Bronzehorn put his hands up to his mouth and hollered ahead. "Hey, Brunnie! Got a customer needs measuring up, here!"

From deep in the bowels of the smithy, an immense contralto voice answered him. "I'll be right there, Guntie!"

As their little group passed into the back room, Featherhooves elbowed Artemis in the side-plate. "That's the other half of the amazing Bronzehorn Armory duo. You remember what I said about her, right?"

She did remember. And she gulped. The pegasus was still not quite over how enormous Gunther the Minotaur was. Just how much bigger was his 'Brunnie'?

Next Chapter: Chapter 53 Estimated time remaining: 27 Hours, 41 Minutes