Artemis Sparkshower

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Specialist Sparkshower felt tiny.

That was a pretty rare thing for her; for a pegasus, she was pretty big. Trowal, she was even big for an earth pony! And with her heavyweight sabots on, she was taller than most unicorns. Full plate armor, with its padding and straps, added another inch or two to her overall diameter, too. Fully cocooned in bronze, she generally felt pretty large in the company of anypony other than her fellow bronze-encased Armored Corps guardsponies.

But right now, she felt small.

Small... and kind of puny.

"Your little herd of attendants can wait back out in the front if you're not comfortable undressing in front of them."

Anonymous, Artemis’ Very Important Pony (who isn't actually a pony), and the only creature she saw on a regular basis who was larger than her, had just been asked to strip down to his skivvies by the towering Minotaur blacksmith, Gunther Bronzehorn. But the big black bull was sitting down at a drafting table, which made his size seem almost reasonable again.

"It doesn't bother me." Anonymous hung up his jacket on one of several hooks lining the blacksmith's wooden-walled fitting-room, and crouched down to undo his shoes. "Partial nudity doesn't seem like it's too big a deal around here -- but then again, you're all covered with fur... or feathers."

With a pair of reading glasses on and a pencil in his colossal fist, Gunther chuckled. "Heh. Just keep your underpants on." Those square-framed glasses really did something to soften the bulkiness of his frame.

No, Gunther was not the reason that Artemis felt tiny. It was the titanic creature silently holding a roll of measuring tape, her arms folded in front of her ample chest.

Anonymous kicked off his shoes, then stood up and undid his belt.

"Here, let me take that." It was the same contralto voice as before, and it filled the room with a resonant echo, even though she was speaking at an ordinary volume.

As Anonymous lifted his pants up off the ground, she stretched out an arm and took them from him, hanging them up in one swift motion, without even budging from her spot six hooves away.

"Thanks."

Artemis’ VIP coiled up his belt and placed it on a low bench underneath the hangars, then began to undo his tie.

The chocolate-brown behemoth smiled, and she reached up to casually brush one of her hanging copper locks back over her shoulder. Then she folded her arms again, resting them against her heavy brown metalworker's apron. As the material was pressed against her body, Artemis got another impression of the bulk of her physique. Her bust alone must weigh more than Artemis’ whole suit of metal armor.

But the frame that held it up was no less enormous.

Anonymous slipped one arm out of his shirt and pulled it off, leaving him in his socks, undershirt, and underpants.

A hoof larger than all four of Artemis’ put together took a single step forward. "The socks and top as well, please."

The Royal Engineer nodded, and lifted up one foot to yank his sock off.

A second massive hoof followed, and the mighty figure was now almost enveloping their half-naked VIP.

Artemis realized she’d been rudely staring at 'Brunnie' since she walked in the room, and forced herself to look away. Trying to divert her attention, she looked down the line of ponies standing in the room with her.

Somehow, they didn’t seem any smaller than her right then.

Sergeant Ebonshield had one eyebrow raised and was scrutinizing Anonymous closely, but she seemed to be contemplating something imaginary and moving -- perhaps thinking how he might move in a fight.

Corporal Bound and Specialist Glamerspear, however, seemed more ordinarily interested. He was always so well-dressed; this is the most naked they'd ever seen him.

Artemis caught Glamerspear deliberately looking away now and then, like she was ashamed to be watching. Since he hardly had anything covering his bare skin besides his clothes, she supposed it was a bit different than with a pony. As he pulled off his shirt, she could even see his nipples! They were certainly in a different place from a pony's. Though, if mares of his species were built like the colts, then that meant his race really was similar to Minotaurs in shape -- besides the legs.

Artemis’ eyes started to wander back to the elephantine creature dominating the room.

"Seriously? That's it? Just a bit of hair here and there?" Private First Class Featherhooves broke the silence of their VIP's undressing with a very forward comment.

All four members of Anonymous' bodyguard quaternion -- Artemis included -- turned to glare at the blabbermouth griffon. She seemed to realize what she’d just said -- not to mention about whom! -- and shrank back a bit into her armor.

But it was Anonymous himself who replied first, as he casually tossed his undershirt onto the bench. "Hah! I'm afraid so." Placing his hands on his hips, he stood up tall. "My people are built for sweating, and anything more than this would just get in the way."

Artemis knew that, of course -- she’d realized it at the end of the first day, after her VIP's first escorted 'jog.’ Glamerspear and Honour knew it, too, but for Ebonshield, that information had her turning something over in her mind.

Anonymous' response emboldened Featherhooves, and she poked her head back out of her gorget, twisting it sideways in confusion. "Sweating? I don't understand; you're built to shrivel up in a banya?"

She didn’t get it.

"The Great Lord and his people can effectively sweat to dispose of excess heat. They must be famous for their endurance."

Ebonshield, on the other hand, clearly did.

Corporal Bound nodded. "You didn't see Glamerspear walk in after His Lordship took her for a gallop in the rose garden."

The batpony sergeant raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the corporal.

But Honour just turned and addressed the Royal Engineer. "Frankly, sir, at times you've come close to wearing me out, too."

From behind the drawing-board, Gunther Bronzehorn emitted a deep chuckle. "Sounds like you'll have no trouble with heavy armor, then. But let's get your measurements first."

Nodding at his partner, he adjusted his eyeglasses and readied his pencil. 'Brunnie' took another half-step forward, and Gunther continued. "I suppose I should introduce you two. Anonymous, this is Brunhilde Bronzehorn, my wife. Brunhilde, this is Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria."

As she stood directly behind Artemis’ nearly-naked VIP, towering vertically over him and seeming to envelop him horizontally, the pegasus couldn’t avoid looking at the minotaur any more. Brunhilde Bronzehorn was, save for the great dragons and a few other mythological creatures, the biggest creature to walk Equestria's green earth. At least as far as Artemis knew. She opened her arms wide, unrolling the measuring-tape. Turning his head around, Anonymous nodded at her with a smile, and she nodded back. Apparently familiar with the procedure, her VIP turned himself back around and stretched out his arms, heedless to the fact that if she but swung her arms back together, she could squish his head like an overripe banana.

Thundershowers, she could probably do it with her bare hands!

Actually, never mind her hands, her bust alone could squash him like a bug! How many calves did Minotaurs have in a single litter, anyways? How much could each one possibly need to drink each day? Brunhilde looked like she could supply a whole regiment's daily allowance of milk without deflating even an inch. And her belly -- massive, but apparently fairly firm -- looked like it could hold that same regiment's daily rations while still having room for more.

As she bent over to measure his upper chest, part of her weighty bosom -- barely contained behind the leather apron -- wound up resting on top of their VIP's head. She called out the number to her partner, who duly scribbled it down, then the hulking heifer stood up straight and wound the measuring strap around his arm. Anonymous' hair was visibly flattened from where half of one of her breasts was pressing into him.

"He's not very big. I thought you said it was a particularly large customer coming tonight, Guntie?"

Gunther looks up from his scribbling. "No, that's on Sunday -- the new diamond dog sergeant in the Princess-Cadenza's."

"Ah, of course." The stupefyingly large bipedal cow, having taken Anonymous's arm measurements, crouched down to do his waist and legs. It was as if the great presence in the room had been shrunk back to normal size -- if only temporarily.

On Artemis left, Glamerspear muttered aloud. "Never thought I'd hear somepony say the Royal Engineer wasn't big."

Brunhilde glanced up from her work. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that..."

She wrapped one colossal arm around their VIP's torso, passing the measuring tape around his back, her snout just in front of his crotch. Hurricanes, her horns stretched out the whole breadth of his arms!

"... It's just that Minotaurs like me need to be careful around other creatures. One wrong move, and it could be extremely painful..."

After calling out the measure, she looked up at Artemis’ VIP from her hunched-over position. "... You're a small guy, after all."

Anonymous didn’t even glance down as he deadpanned his reply. "For you."

There was an amused snort from behind the drawing-desk. Brunhilde leaned over past Anonymous to glance at her chortling husband, a look of bemused disapproval on her brown face. Suppressing his grin, the bulging black minotaur nonchalantly wiped his snout.

"Sorry. Carry on."

With a huff and a shake of her head -- that nearly resulted in her horns knocking into Anonymous' thighs, she finished measuring his legs and feet. Then she hoisted herself back up -- and Artemis felt absolutely minuscule again. It was a wonder she didn't just hang the measuring tape on the wall, then pick up her VIP and hold him against it instead.

Then a thought really hit her in the head. As the wife of a smith, Brunhilde Bronzehorn must surely have a set of armor of her own, mustn't she?

Just how big would she be in it?

And how strong could it be?

Would she be able to simply bowl her way through buildings of brick and stone?

Could even thick city walls stop such an armored behemoth?

As Artemis pondered those questions of enormity, Brunhilde rolled the measuring tape up and stepped over to put it down on the desk.

Then Gunther got to his hooves, blowing a quick air-kiss at his whopper of a wife. "Thanks, sweetie. You can get dressed again, m'Lord. I've got the numbers I need to get to work. The question is, what am I making for you?"

In the middle of buttoning up his shirt, Anonymous looked up.

"It seems like the recommendation is 'heavy armor,' so let's go with that."

Gunther nodded. "All right. There are a few different styles to choose from, though before we do that, perhaps you'd also like to tell me what weapons you want?"

Standing there with his legs bare but his chest covered, their VIP rubbed his hands against his flanks. "That's a good question. Among my people, the most iconic weapon for single combat is the sword -- good for cutting, thrusting, and even bludgeoning, when striking with the pommel. But bronze, I believe, isn't well suited for longer, two-handed blades. And it seems like the most common weapon amongst ponies -- besides hooves -- is the spear."

He pointed at Artemis and Honour. "Specialist Sparkshower carries a long pike, and Corporal Bound has a pair of snap-together javelins. Even Specialist Glamerspear throws out telekinetic spears. So there's a lot of ranged and long-reach attacks on offer."

The Royal Engineer turned to face the five soldiers in the room. "I'm getting this equipment and learning to fight so I can defend myself, but let's be honest: I'm not looking to become a champion warrior. I need to be able to hold my own in a duel, but it should be a deterrence and a last resort. So I think a defensive focus is in order, and maybe a more conservative weapons loadout."

Gunther narrowed his eyes and nodded.

Against the side wall, Artemis even saw Brunhilde imposingly fold her arms as well.

"I think I want a shield -- a fairly large one, sturdy and strong, so I can bash with it if needed. A spear goes well with a shield, but I don't have the mobility of a pegasus; I can't charge through the air as they can, and standing alone I can't cover every angle of their attack. It's a disadvantage that might make the spear useless."

Just how much had Artemis’ VIP thought about this problem? Then again, he’s the Royal Engineer. Thinking about problems is his job. And he had already seen two pony-on-pony fights close up.

"A sword would be easier to work with, but what if I'm faced with a foe in heavy armor? I'll be forced to get in close to stab, easily out-ranged by their spear. It would be better if I had something long-handled I could swing from behind the safety of the shield."

Anonymous clenched his left hand into a fist, and held it close in front of his chest, just as if he was gripping a shield. Then he balled up the other hand and made a sweeping overhead chopping motion with it.

"Flails have range, but carry the risk of self-injury. So I think it's got to be a straight-shafted weapon: a mace, pick, or a war hammer."

Still pantsless, the Royal Engineer held his mock fighting position, arm still outstretched as if in full swing, and looked around for a response.

Before anypony could say anything for or against his proposal, from the side of the room, Brunhilde stepped forward and reached out to grab their VIP's arm.

"He's got long limbs, Guntie. And there's good muscle on them, too."

Letting go, she nodded at her husband. "Make him a good, heavy mace, like the kind our ancestors used. No spikes, so it doesn't get stuck in an opponent. He won't have any trouble bashing through armor, anyways."

Gunther scribbled on a notepad. "Yeah, I like that idea. I've got just the piece of wood for the shaft, too: Wyrm's Rosewood, from the Dragon Isle. Maybe use it for the base of the shield as well, if it doesn't come out too heavy. And I'm picturing the armor already -- we go classic Minotaur-style, heavy pieces but with simpler joints. Bronze-plated leather strips for the waist; same thing at the shoulders. It'll give you the maneuverability to dodge around and make good use of the shield."

After jotting down his notes, the smith looked up and tapped on his paper. "Was there anything else? Because I think I've got a good idea right here."

Anonymous shrugged amiably. "I'll defer to your experience. If it sounds good to you, it sounds good to me."

Gunther smiled. "Alright. I'll send you a messenger when I've got a first draft done. My schedule's clear until that diamond dog sergeant shows up for his measurement, so I should have something for you this week."

Artemis’ VIP grabbed his pants off the hook and began to slip them on. "Oh, excellent! I'm looking forward to it."

With a nod, the black Minotaur headed out of the fitting room, proceeding deeper into his smithy. "If you'll excuse me, I don't like to waste time when I'm feeling motivated. Brunnie, see them out, won't you?"

His enormous wife nodded. "Of course, dear. And I'll get the forge warmed up. How many bars will you need?"

"Bring up six to start on his cuirass."

As the Royal Engineer continued to dress himself, Corporal Bound cleared her throat. "Well, sir, it seems like we're done here. All that's left is to head home."

That gave him pause.

And Glamerspear, too.

Halfway through slipping on one of his socks, Anonymous looked over at everyone, his face pale. "Maybe we should see if those Pegasi can pull us along on the ground for the trip home."

‘Was the ride over here really so bad?’

"Sounds like a good plan to me, sir."

Apparently the corporal thought so.

"I'd be on board for that."

And so did Glamerspear.

Wow.

... Just how in Equestria did Princess Celestia always make it look so cozy and elegant, then?

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