I Just Want an Opinion · 9:01pm Aug 21st, 2013
Wrote a bit of a story and liked how it turned out. Wanted to know what everybody else thinks. Features Anthro and Alternate Universe.
The ‘thrum’ of a loosed bow was music to the ears.
The terrified shrieks that followed, less so.
She nocked the next arrow into place and took aim, then loosed it.
The small, pink, fleshy beasts trundling towards her farmland scattered, squealing in distress as two of their own lay gagging on their own blood in the cornfield.
Out of the corner of her eye, the archer watched her brother down below suddenly dive into the field. He ran like a blind bull towards one of the gentle rivulets made by a small body moving frantically between the stalks of her life’s work. He crashed through the field, and she could imagine him snorting and grunting in fury.
She nocked her third arrow.
Her brother found his prey. The small body flew through the air, visible for a brief second, its skull collapsed, its body broken, then it crashed to the ground.
She let loose.
As she grabbed the next arrow, the shaking in her corn stalks stopped in one place.
As she grabbed the following, another tremor in the cornfields stopped.
Her brother sent another victim flying, splattering them against the fence.
Two more arrows, one more barrelling charge from her brother.
She let go of the breath she’d been holding since she’d first climbed the tree. Her lungs ached, but she treated them to the fresh evening air while she heard her brother’s heavy steps come closer.
She was about to lay her bow down when she heard a small voice behind her. “Didja get ‘em Applejack? Are they gone?” Applejack glanced down. Her little red-haired sister watched her with brilliant, quivering eyes, wind teasing her yellow fur. She was in her overalls, and other than a small, metal mace meant to crush mice, was wearing nothing else.
“They’re gone, sis.” Applejack took her bow and spread the string to wrap it around her chest so she could climb down. The mighty form of her tall, bulky brother emerged from the cornfields, a handmade shovel made of solid rock and oak, stained with blood, rest in his hands. “Troublesome critters, good work Macintosh.”
Her brother grunted the affirmative and planted his shovel into the ground. “Third this week. Goblins are movin’ out of the vale.”
Applejack pulled her bow off of her and played with the string idly. The sun was going down on the horizon, meaning they were about to be without light. She beckoned her siblings to follow her to the farmhouse. “Somethin’s probably jus’ spookin’ ‘em. Goblins don’t really got a backbone.” She chuckled.
Soft, fleshy, small, and weak, Goblins weren’t much of a threat to a seasoned warrior, but they often made trouble for travelers and merchants. Crude, with the mental capacity of a child and with the same want to investigate and break everything they ran into. They were content to eat, sleep, and have their own fun all day picking on whatever other creature they ran into. They weren’t smart, they weren’t organized, but they had numbers and old-fashioned weaponry, and a particular inclination towards cruelty.
“Even so. They’s comin’ from the Everfree.” Big Macintosh stopped when they reached the farm house’s stoop, and he pointed his shovel out towards the forest that was just a half mile away from their own gates. “Goblins ain’t smart, but they ain’t usually dumb enough to try and brave the Everfree fer anything.”
“Maybe they’s hungry?” Their little sister, Apple Bloom piped up.
“First off, it’s ‘they’re’, as in ‘they are’. Seconduvall, it’s just a few goblins, they’ve done dumber things and y’all both know it.” Applejack went into the house. Their grandmother was snoring in her rocker in the corner of the living room, an old blunderbuss in her hands. Applejack knelt down next to her and quietly removed her old house slippers to free her toes, then took the blunderbuss and mounted it on the wall. “I’m more worried ‘bout grabbin’ some lemonade right now. Y’all want some?”
“I want some!” Apple Bloom dropped her tiny mace on the table and ran into the kitchen after her older sister. Applejack was slipping out of the beaten leather armor she wore, and was letting it rest on the kitchen counter as she poured three glasses of cold lemonade.
“I’m bein’ serious sis, we don’t see vale Goblins fer three and a half years and suddenly we have whole tribes tryin’a cross our fields. I think somethin’ may be wrong.” Big Macintosh strode into the kitchen sans weapon. The big male never wore much. A simple pair of trousers was his choice of clothing today, leaving much of his broad, red-furred chest on display.
Applejack shook her head and pushed a cold glass into Big Macintosh’s hand. Despite his protest, he sipped at the drink. “Look, it can’t be that big of a deal. They’re goblins, who knows what’s goin’ through their heads?” Applejack slugged her lemonade back, and Big Macintosh loudly collapsed into a nearby chair. Apple Bloom stood just out of the way, drinking heavily.
“What I think is they ain’t totally random. Somethin’s goin’ through the vale spookin’ the goblins.” Big Macintosh said plainly, setting the drink to the side. Applejack turned to face him, and both of the Apple siblings had a stare down. Applejack let out a breath through her nose.
“... So? What’re we gonna do about it? Vale’s on the other side of the Everfree. Not our problem.” Applejack finally stated, grabbing Big Macintosh’s glass and drinking it down.
“No, but it’s gon’ be somebody’s problem.” Big Macintosh pointed out with a loud huff. “Even if it ain’t ours, this means a buncha Goblins’re runnin’ about now lookin’ fer new homes. People’re gonna lose pets, livestock, farmlands, heck, even kids with those bastards runnin’ rampant.”
“Then they can pick up arms like we do.” Applejack stated firmly as she glanced to the bow laying on the table. “Our problems are our own. We don’t need ta be worryin’ about anybody else’s, ‘specially during planting season. Got enough on our hands without gobbos comin’ through.” Applejack made a move to head through the doorway when she heard a slap on the table.
“Applejack.” Big Macintosh said warningly. Applejack let out a sigh, and turned to listen. Her older brother stood tall, and was giving her a warning look. “I think you should send a letter to Canterlot.”
“Wha’-?!” Applejack shook her head violently. “No way!” She nearly shouted, while Big Macintosh narrowed his eyes. “I ain’t askin’ fer those hypocrites’ help. If they don’t want anythin’ ta do with us out here, then the better for us! We don’t need their lawyerin’ ‘n beauracratic bullsh-”
“Applejack!” Big Macintosh interrupted suddenly. Applejack’s ears flattened against her head as Big Macintosh crossed his big, red arms. “This ain’t a matter of bureaucracy. There may be a problem. Just ask fer ‘em to investigate.”
Applejack snorted. “Right, ‘n wait three months fer ‘em to comply, then they’ll charge us when they find nothin’ ‘cuz all the Goblins ‘re run out and whatever spooked ‘em’s gone and-”
Big Macintosh cleared his throat, interrupting her. “This ain’t up fer discussion. Ye’re writin’ them a letter ‘n delivering it while yer in town tomorrow. Un’erstood?” He grunted hoarsely, and Applejack glared, but bowed her head.
“Yessir.” She complied, earning an appreciative nod.
“Good. Be sure ta let city council know too. Last thing we want is fer Ponyville ta be caught blindsided.” Big Macintosh walked past her, then leaned down by the rocking chair and scooped up his grandmother. “I’ll see ya bright ‘n early. The both of ya.” He started upstairs, and Applejack leaned against the doorframe with a sigh.
She felt small hands envelope hers. “It ain’t a big deal, right? Just a few gobbos?” Apple Bloom asked, staring up at her sister. Applejack stared down at her smaller sibling. Having raised her in place of a parent, she had to make a lot of calls to help raise the little filly grow up and see the world. She knew in her gut the goblins would just end up killing themselves and there wouldn’t be too many losses as a result, but her big brother had a point, as always, she just hated to get involved, and even more hated to make others get involved.
Especially the damned Canterlot.
Applejack looked to the ceiling for advice, then knelt down to her little sister’s level and rest a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you worry your li’l head sis. I’ll send that letter ‘n we’ll find it ain’t a big deal the next day. You’ll see.” Applejack smiled softly as Apple Bloom gave a slow nod.
“What if it is a big deal?” Apple Bloom persisted, then glanced to the tiny mace she’d dropped.
“Then y’all gotcher big brother ‘n big sister to take care of that problem. Ain’t nothin’ we can’t handle together.” Applejack winked, drawing a small smile from Apple Bloom. “We’ve handled worse.”
“Like that ogre?” Apple Bloom asked excitedly.
Applejack hid a shiver down her spine and nodded. “Precisely, like that ogre. Now getcher butt upstairs and get ready fer bed, we gotta be up bright ‘n early for sowin’ seeds t’morrow, y’hear?” She prompted with a pump of her arm, and Apple Bloom imitated the move with the enthusiasm only a child could muster.
“Yes ma’am!” Apple Bloom squeaked and rushed upstairs. Applejack smiled kindly, then went around and gather her leather, her bow, and her sister’s mace. She put them on the walls where they’d be easy to grab in case of an emergency, and stepped outside to observe her fields.
By the time morning came, the vermin and the wolves would remove what was left of the goblins in her fields. It was a bloody business, but you didn’t live on the edge of the wilderness and expect peace and quiet. She let out a low sigh. All her life she’d been raised to be a farmer. Planting, growing, harvesting, defending, raising, mending...
She liked it simple. Numbers made her head spin, words made her brain hurt, she didn’t even much care for finding a mate. She could pop out kids whenever she wanted, but the farm needed a pair of strong arms, not a pot belly and a fattened ass.
Applejack stepped off the farm house’s stoop and walked towards an old tree between the house and the barn. There, several dummies had been set up in crude shapes, covered in marks and cuts. The hayseed glanced down at a box next to a bale of hay used for sitting, reached in, and pulled out a small axe.
Such cruel, but brilliant weaponry. You could cut smaller logs with it and trim branches, prune hay bales and cut rope, but she didn’t buy it for housework. In a single, swift action she cocked her arm back and threw the axe, sinking the blade into one of the dummies’ chests.
On any normal target, armored or not, there was no chance they’d have survived that. Applejack knew that from experience. She strode forward, grabbed the axe, tugged it out of the straw dummy and turned around to walk back.
Bandits, goblins, an orc or two, she’d fought them off with these axes. They were cruel and biting, there was no mistaking their purpose when they sunk into flesh, hacked apart muscle, and splintered bones in a single swing. Just simple tools, but these tools were made to kill. Even if it was purely out of self-defense, Applejack could remember the flashes of pain in the bandit’s eyes when she’d left only a thin strip of sinew to keep his hand connected to his wrist.
She couldn’t imagine the pain, or what it was like losing a piece of yourself like that, but it didn’t stop her. In the heat of the moment, she went from parting a hand from its arm to parting a head from its neck.
She turned swiftly, axe lashing out, and caught the straw dummy by its neck.
Just like that. The head sailed through the air, a blank expression on its face. Applejack had briefly wondered if the bandit knew what had happened or if he was dead upon impact. She watched the head hit the ground and roll away a few feet before it settled on its neck.
Applejack didn’t feel much then and she didn’t feel much now. She didn’t pity that bandit. His grubby hands had touched her little sister somewhere improper, her only regret was that Apple Bloom had seen it. Luckily, rather than seem traumatized her little sister heralded her sister as a hero, and wanted to follow her example.
Applejack was glad for that, but she still regretted performing the deed in front of her. Much better than the alternative she supposed.
She walked back to the bale of hay. She’d practice until her arm gave out, and then she’d go to bed. It’d help her think. Make her form a letter in her head and tire her out trying to puzzle out all the words, then she’d sleep well.
She always did.
She went to bed while the moon was climbing to its seat in the sky, exhausted, her arm numb, her mind ablaze.
She tossed and turn all throughout the night.
Not too bad, I think.
Pretty decent story and all. You like to tell the action they take a bit, I think. All the 'she did's' and such.
Flow was nice, easy to read, and it held a steady pace, too.
~Skeeter The
Wasn't there more of this, I'm shure there was. Regardless this is still a interesting story and I would definitely read more.
Anthro, eh? Nothin' against it, per se, just not my cup of tea.
Alternate Universe, on the other hand, I do take offense to. Not gonna post my many ramblings about AU, just offering some honest feedback.
Would definitely not read this, were it an actual story.
Note:
Just to be clear, I'm not disparaging you as an author at all! I still think you're great. Just giving my two cents about this story in particular is all. Hope you don't take it personally, but I rarely like anthro, and strongly hate AU.
Very nicely written and the plot sounds interesting. You really know how to handle pacing.
I wouldn't read this, because I don't like anthro, bur that doesn't mean is not good.
1299908 Out of curiosity, may I ask why? It's not sexualized, it's merely an alternate take. Their bodies are changed to handle the provided tools better. It's easier than justifying how else she uses a bow at least.
Well, I'm certainly interested. Sounds like something I'd read.
5/5, would read.
1299914 Why I don't like anthro? Well, It has nothing to do with sexualization. I just feel It takes something away from the characters. In this case, the Apples. No matter how much you characterize them like their canon selves, I feel they are not, because the way someone lives with an equine body completely changes their perspectives on life, work, etc. You said you are using it because it is easier for them to use tools they wouldn't normally use, that is precisely what I don't like.
I can't enjoy anthro and humanized MLP fanfiction because it feels to me as if someone were borrowing the personalities of my favorite characters for their characters, instead of using my favorite characters.
It is just a pet peeve of mine and in any way demerits this kind of stories, everypony is free to write and read what they like.
1300100 I'm just curious. There's lots of reasons to dislike it, I was just wondering what yours was.
1300131 And that is perfectly fine.
I hope I satiated your curiosity. Good luck with your story.
1300145 Thank you.
Very nice. It's good to have some darker stories to counteract the fluff, and I will definitely read more of this should you decide to continue. On the topic of anthro, I really don't care one way or the other. It works well with this story so far though, so no complaints there. In terms of Alternate Universe, YES. ALL OF MY YES. AU is what keeps this fandom intersting for me, and so far you've done a wonderful job. Hope to see it published soon!
Anthro isn't my cup of tea personally, though this has piqued my interest enough to continue reading (should it continue).
Better "Anthro" than "Humanized". Better "Humanized" than whatever "Equestria Girls" was.
At any rate, I'll give it a try.
...
Yes.
Just...
YES.
That is too epic not to make into a story.