>climbing aboard the train at the Crystal Empire station, you take a windowed seat
>you sling your ragged napsack over into the overhead compartment
>the train jerks to life, as it starts to leave the platform
>watching the snowy fields pass by, you take out a crumpled letter from your pocket
>
'To whom this may concern
 
Your presence in Equestria has not gone unnoticed.
I am of the profession to provide you with abilities beyond reckoning.
Proceed to Manehatten. Look for Irontail Armory at the docks.
Your participation will be well worth your time.
However, bring something to make it worth mine as well.
 
>the letter was signed with an elaborated J .Taylor
>thinking this over, you come to the realization that this option seems most viable
>you could always simply learn a new skill, start fresh
>but it would simply pale in comparison to the skills demonstrated by the ponies so far
>you don't have time to be an amateur at something
>you have your dignity as a species to prove
>even if it means following up on this Taylor lead
>arriving at the Manehatten station, you grab your knapsack and step of the now stationary train
>Outside of the station, in the bustling streets, you manage to hail a cab to the docks
>at the docks, you notice the old brick chimneys in the distance
>in the air the stench of brine and rotten seaweed hangs heavily
>approaching the brick and mason building, you see the rusted anvil sign
>the lot has tall grass and derelict drums strewn all over the place
"Irontail Armory... this has to be the place"
>you rap on the iron rolling doors a few times
"fuck am I doing here... the place is obviously not seen a living soul for years"
>as you turn away, the door rumbles open
>a timely gentlecolt stands hunkered over the chain
>dressed in a tweed jacket with a cabled beige sweater underneath, he appears somewhat tired already
>"Greetings Anonymous, I was afraid my letter did not reach it's intended recipient."
>you greet him cautiously as you step inside the armory workshop
>tools of various sorts adorn the wall, illuminated by lantern light
>beneath them lay half finished contraptions of wood and metal
>ushering you inside what seems to be a re-purposed bathroom at the back, he addresses you again
>"Now before we can begin, I believe my letter was clear in regards to compensation for my efforts?"
>you sling over your knapsack and produce a sizable garnet, about the size of a potato
>"Yes yes, that will do fine. Now before we get started, I request of you to abandon all senses of squeamishness, for the procedure is not without it's risks."
>drawing a curtain, a dentist chair sits in the center, lit brightly by an overhead light
>from the light protrudes various arms, some containing sharp implements, others magnification lenses
>"please take a seat my good man, and we shall get started..."
>you climb abroad the chair, gazing up at the bright light, as Mr Taylor don's his surgical mask
>"Risks aside however, you are in good hooves."