There's currently at least eight factions.

The Alliance (some diamond dogs and seaponies and most of the griffon clans)

The Empire (a few dragon and griffon clans, and most of the affiliated ponies)

Chaos (not explained but mostly just Discord and some demons)

The Changelings (not explained, presumably ruled by chrysalis)

The Diamond Dogs (Think imperial Japan or China. They're isolationist, but allied with Tick Tock for trade. There is a splinter group intending to ally themselves with the Alliance, which would spark a civil war)

The Batponies (Ruled by Luna, who is forced into a three way battle with Chaos and the Changelings to keep them both from spilling over into the rest of the world. Technically alligned with the Empire through Luna's servitude to her sister, but seem to hold no true allegiance as their only concern is keeping eldritch horrors from making fun times)

The Seaponies (Jack shit is known, though I suppose this is because they live at the bottom of the ocean. They are predominately neutral but hostile to -all- military vessals)

Tick Tock (Neutral world power with a few unafialiated diamond dogs, seaponies, ponies, and some robotic "ponies" kept alive by a phylactery)

Shut up baby, you know it.

As I understand it, not everyone is cut out to be wizards even if they can cast a spell. This is where the mineral comes in. Devil's blood can store spells, meaning it can power machines, light homes, or be used to make projectiles charged with magic. Think what you will, but it simply serves as storage for a spell.

daddy, tell me about the minotaurs. punkassbitch. >:I

you have my attention.

http://youtu.be/i5q8fs4SMmI
Between the grueling slog uphill and the blinding snow and darkness, little can be seen aside from the abandoned lights in damaged buildings. The sound of heavy snowfall drowns out the static of the ships’ communication devices. As it would appear, communication proves difficult within the city. Similarly, spells occasionally fizzle out.

What first drew the attention of the empire and Magicarium to Innbury a few centuries ago was how inarticulate unicorns from the city were at magic. In fact, many lacked the magical aura needed to cast magic entirely. This drew no concern from the Empire until it was discovered within the last two centuries that such individuals could siphon magical energy almost in a similar way to devil’s blood and, in fact, will anti-magical areas. Suggestions of the application of such abilities flew around wildly behind the closed doors of the Empire, provoking the Magicarium into researching individuals who were taken after their first magical examinations. As it turned out, bringing children who could absorb magic into the Magicarium was an ill informed decision that resulted in many of the subjects hemorrhaging, the (thankfully distant) facility being entirely sapped of energy for a period of days, and a few subjects escaping. The event, having occurred –long- ago, has since fallen out of public memory, but it did instigate a private investigation into Innbury that suggests, after decades of research, that the town has been subject to a magical influence outside of the Magicarium’s influence without a doubt. Of course, action was not immediate until the Magicarium’s building in town waned in power and the few watchful eyes left to watch the town were elaborately assassinated in such a way to suggest suicide. This combined with its anomalies and neutrality with forces opposed to the Empire ultimately classified the town as a den for heretics.

Suddenly the static was overcome momentarily as a soldier answers nervously that the mayor has been captured after a shootout that killed a commanding officer. Eager to fill the captain in, he announces that he and the other squad that aided him will return to the ship with the prisoner unless given orders not to.

((I ‘ave music fer ye too.

Troops push forward. The rattling of the city intensifies in disparate intervals. The waters clog with flaming wreckage as a sole imperial cruiser pushes through the wake of the proceeding warship. The deck is lively but the city is silent.

Dusty glares wordlessly out her office window, as if removed from the situation by a tired indifference rather than shock. Others form behind her and go off with the orders of another in a hurry. The chance to benefit from the Alliance seems to have passed. She turns to the mantle near her desk and retrieves an old gaff hook and walks outside, disappearing into the snow.

The seaponies by now dwindled in presence, no longer being an issue for the two remaining Empire ships. The pirates who did not flee were now torn apart in the icy water. The town’s citizens lied in the streets. The path from port leading to the end of the ships’ gunfire on the town was raw with frigid muck, glass, and fragmented stone.

Dusk falls. Mud and debris slows infantry advance, the darkness and snow halts air support. Ice locks the ships to the wreckage of the port. The only source of sound is from the ships and their troops. Quickly in the wake of an approaching snowstorm, the city becomes a ghost town with its opposition trapped within with no immediate reinforcements save for the chance that the Magicarium’s building on the opposite outskirts of town might not be destroyed. Given the lay of the land, specifically that the town slopes uphill from the coast, marching across the city and uphill against snow, mud, rubble, and ice at night during an earthquake sounds less than fun.

We begin the journey in the midst of the current conflict our offshoot of Equestrian history has left us. To be precise, a few days ago, but that is of no consequence to the first character as they are very much disinterested in the battles as they are far away and have little baring on their occupation. Regardless, there is nothing more to say on the war at this point. My ambiguous character awakes in the seaside city of Innbury after receiving summons from a previously unknown relative who, upon death, left the character as an heir or heiress. The journey to the city was of no consequence.

After the common morning ritual of breakfast, the individual ventured down the street of the hotel they stayed that night to the office of the lawyer managing the estate they would inherit. The city was something of a slum in some respects, as it had become a den for pirates through backdoor dealings. The city was founded some time after the griffon gods were done away; this fact, however, is of no consequence as it is merely to give a concept of its age. The city possessed dense construction, yet lacked in activity on the large with the exclusion of the docks. Georgian architecture is abundant, but stained green with moss and yellowed from the salty air. My character thought it very humble. The neglected look of these buildings was attributed to the fact that as the city grew it expanded into the ocean rather than inland, constructing docks and landfills for the newer residences. Interestingly, the city used to be cut through by a river, but as it expanded it blocked it off. My character held this as a fact of no consequence.[i.imgur.com]

The river used to drain refuse from the mainland into the ocean. The garbage the town grew upon ironically blocked it off, supporting a sponsorship by the seaponies mainly because removing the city would unplug a history of pollution into the area. Trade became the city’s strength as it developed as an economic mecca for even factions opposed to the Empire. My character only considered the value the inheritance could bring considering the economic significance of the area as they closed the door to the lawyer’s office. Sitting behind the oak desk as dreary morning light filtered through pale curtains was a burly, earth-colored pony. A seldom trolley of no consequence rang its bell for no one outside.[i.imgur.com]

The lawyer informed the individual on the will and led them to the grounds they would inherit, an old lodge at the top of a hill overlooking the town and removed from the clutter of buildings and instead flanked by huge pine trees. The sun drifted behind pallid clouds as the sky mirrored the off white of the dirty snow that lied on the ground. The windows of the lodge were the kind of yellow only age could bring, like the yellow of an old woman’s nails. The walls of the building rose high, four stories at least and three times as wide, but its stone and wood walls, yellowed windows, and sloping roof stood hollow like the haziness of a blind man’s eye. This was unnerving to the character as the building evoked a sensation as if something stared back when they tried to peer through the windows. This was made a matter of no consequence to the individual as the interest in what laid inside and the hate of the bitter nip of frost lead them inside once the lawyer handed them the key.
A day well spent, the person dusted and cleaned and started a fire to warm the home for the night. Thoughts of selling the home and thoughts of moving in danced in and out of fancy. This person never had so much before and was thankful. Night draped itself over the house as they slept at the base of the furnace, wrapped in a blanket as the crunching, falling snow rained around that coast.[i.imgur.com]

The town’s mayor did not sleep that night as she shuffled through paperwork and royal proclamations, which begin bursting into the office that night. The mayor was a secluded woman, deliberate and cold. She stood tall but was lean and haggard. It came to pass since the city was founded that her family had, through extortion and racketeering, always been in control. So many “greats” ago that she could not remember, her great great etc. grandmother undermined a griffon attempt at civil war. Well, she turned coat and informed the empire to be exact. Regardless, she now found herself at the ire of the Empire and, most importantly, the Legion Errant. She thus had the magisterium entrance blocked and the pirates, heretics, and seaponies made aware of what was happening.

The anonymous character woke feeling tired but unable to sleep. They looked to the window, the glass hazed over with gray. As they stood their reflexes felt slowed and strained. They walked slowly to the window to inspect the time. The window looked like a void. A walk to the front door revealed they did not have the strength to move it. A bang on the door was slowed and weak. A shout felt choked by water, forcing them into a fit of coughing and then vision faded as focus became difficult. Sight without eyes. The ground fell into infinity. Wood and stone warped around the pin hole focus of the eye. The wood floor came up to hit them. Sound came as a thumping. It was heard without ears. The blur of sight suddenly melded into bright, erratic colors as the unheard sound became clearer and pace increased. Shapes form, alien but real to perception. Raw emotions burst forth vividly as color as senses and perception join in the void. Soon the individual stumbles to their feet and pushes at the door. The doors burst slowly into particles as the outside is now dirt and red stalks reaching up like trees with the hands like griffons or dogs for branches. Fear. They feel like they are stealing the air. Coughing. The sky turns from gray to green to blue as water bursts upward from the harbor and the stalks plummet into the ground, drawing forth grass and bringing the city back to reality. Snow fills the area. It feels clean.
They stand not even a moment to take in the purity before stepping forward towards town. People fill in, happy and excited as the city grows. It grows. Seasons quickly pass as they walk to the harbor. The seasons change so much by the time they approach the water. Drawn to the water, they walk closer but they see the landfill push it away. Water and buildings burst as they near the water, ignoring the landscape moving. Compelled, they walk into the ocean, deeper and deeper until blackness and the void returns.[i.imgur.com]

They wake from the void. It is morning and the sun barely shines through the snow-smothered clouds. They walk through the front door with their returned strength, despite weariness. The harbor is filled with ships firing on the town and at each other. The home was no longer of consequence as a crowd outside rushes them with questions of what they saw. No sooner had the questions been answered and both parties understood did a shot from one of the ships burst into the lodge, toppling the building on top of the character and much of the procession, but what they saw was relayed to the mayor as a premonition from the chaos.

By the time news reached the town’s leader the city had begun to shake with tremors and an empire warship pushed through the wreckage of other vessels, docked, and unloaded its crew. Dusty, as the mayor called herself, looked down from her office as snow and flashes of gunfire pushed from the piers, waiting for a response from the alliance.

((The great grimderp of our time begins.

I'm so fabulous I'm like a peacock. You ask too much.

Seriously? So we gotta go full vanilla?