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// A Rich Shadowy Forest 
// Story: A Rich Everglow Adventure 
// by RadicalDishonesty 
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Filthy Rich held his makeshift torch aloft, on the lowered area. The sky had disappeared behind the canopy, and even the meagre light from the moon and stars could not reach, and the only light remaining was the flickering torch. He looked out, trying to see what was around them. The foliage and rocky walls did not open up into a clear path, only that going backwards was not an easy option anymore.
The sounds of his two companions hitting the ground had him wheel around, and he offered a steadying hoof for his wife to grasp to pull herself off of the ground. “Ugh, I should have known this was going to be dirty,” she complained, as she patted off her sides. “So, are we sure she is down here?”
Filthy Rich looked around, holding his torch up to illuminate the nearby area, and shrugged.
“Well, we came down here to what, see nothing?”
Filthy Rich’s protest was muffled by his torch, and he used his sticky hooves to take it out of his mouth and began to protest, when the deep voice of Sand Castle said something in the aquatic language. The couple turned to see him feeling around on the ground with his hoof, and Filthy held the torch down to illuminate the ground.
On the dirt there was the deep divot of a hoof pressed into the soil, and then, directed down one of the pathways, matted grass and grooves in the dirt. Spoiled and Filthy Rich knelt down and inspected as well. They both stood back up, and Spoiled announced. “Something was definitely dragged away from here.”
Filthy Rich looked at her. “Someone.”
A snort was the only reply.
Sand Castle stepped around the couple, and Filthy Rich caught his determined glare at the ground, ready to follow the path of what was presumably a dragged Dawn Crest.
Filthy Rich only looked to his wife, and replaced the torch in his mouth.
As they followed the dragging path, Filthy became aware of rustling in the woods. Was it the wind? His imagination? The light of his torch barely penetrated the dense foliage this deep into the woods, made only slightly better as they got away from the rocky walls.
He stepped lightly, his ears twitching. Every rustle and snapping twig only serving to drive his nerves higher. This land was a wild land. He recalled the childhood tales of the danger of the nearby Everfree forest. The monsters and beasts in it. Rockodiles. Cockatrices. Timberwolves. There was a crackle from his torch. Or was it from something creeping in the foliage?
Filthy breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly. It was no time to lose himself. He was their torchbearer. He had a dagger, he had his wits and he had… his powers. The words, the surge of energy. He already used it once tonight, for his hooves. He could feel the dim feeling of the magic holding on his hooves, even. He could feel it was still going.
And if things got dicey… he had his one more trick.
As they moved forward, he became aware that some of the shrubs around were skeletal, ragged things. Filthy got close to one, looking closely at it. He rarely saw dead trees like this, but he was sure that the Everfree was full of them. He shuddered, one more thing this forest shares with that place, and he quickly turned his head away, bumping the tree with his torch.
And the shrub recoiled at the torch’s touch.
Filthy’s eyes widened as the shrub in front of him shook and trembled, tearing itself out by the roots, it’s trunk pulling out as two legs, and branches folding down forward, as the top of the tree wrapped itself into a muzzle. The now four legged creature turned its face to Filthy, the bark wrapped in the clear shape of a face, and it suddenly opened its maw and screeched a loud piercing screech.
Filthy stumbled back, and the creature lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. The torch clattered  He braced his hooves up against the plant creature, holding it up as it thrashed around, screeching and yelling.
But before it could make a good connect, something connected instead with it’s side. A huge tan hoof slammed into its side, knocking it off of Filthy. Sand Castle jumped over him, into a ready position in front of the plant creature, as Spoiled joined Filthy behind him.
Filthy Rich picked himself up off the ground. “A timberwolf? Here?”
The figure now behind Sand Castle was illuminated clearly from the flickering torch that was  shrouded in shadow from the flickering torch. Getting a better look at it, the creature didn’t seem to have claws or a lupine head. No, this was a wooded plant creature in the basic shape of a pony. And it looked wicked, it’s wooden branches warped and wrapped to form it’s legs and body, ending in spiky endings, and what served as a mouth was jagged line, more resembling teeth than lips.
More wooden creaking resounded out from them, and they caught glimpses of two other plant monsters uprooting themselves from behind them. Oh dear. Filthy Rich couldn’t remember how many dead plants he happened upon but...
What if all of them were these creatures?
The rustling and creaking noises coming from behind them were not encouraging noises.
“We’re going to have company very soon,” he said. Sand Castle looked back with an inquisitive look. Filthy pointed to the side, where a tree was uprooting itself, and clearly enunciated, “More.”
Sand Castle glanced over, and he grimaced through the knife in his mouth. Something muffled was said from behind it, in time for him to catch something out of the corner of his eye, and jump back in time for the wooden pony to only land a shallow blow on his midsection.
Immediately, by instinct almost, Sand Castle’s muscular hoof snapped out, landing a blow in the center mass of the wooden pony. Fortunately either it wasn’t as hard as actual wood, or Sand Castle could break wood with his bare hooves, because it buckled and reeled back with the collision.
The dagger still laid unused in Sand Castle’s mouth.
Filthy Rich backed up, another two wooden ponies approaching from opposite directions. The three of them were stuck. The incantation flashed in his mind, for the wave of force. But… he couldn’t use it, because it would hit Spoiled and Sand Castle.
So he reached for his side, drawing the dagger they had pilfered from the sea ponies, and readied himself for the monster, gulping hard. It leaped hard at him, and he backed up, it’s hoof being brought down on his side roughly. It was lighter than he had feared, but the blow still stung.
After reeling, Filthy Rich whipped his head around, plunging the dagger into its shoulder. It shuddered and creaked, but no roar or screech came, and Filthy was shocked to see it didn’t have a mouth, only a gnarled bit of wood for a head.
It thrashed and writhed, swinging it’s hooves wildly and one of them flew and smacked Filthy on his head with a blinding kick. His vision went blurry and Filthy took a step back. He bumped into nothing, and a small part of him called out to observe the situation, as last he remembered he was basically directly next to his companions.
Looking around, he saw that Sand Castle was basically wrestling with his pony, beating it with a free hoof, and Spoiled Rich… had backed up, brandishing her blade menacingly and keeping distance between the two of them. Filthy was glad neither of them were doing as badly as he was doing.
But that was because he was the only one that took hits. The ringing in his head faded and he looked down to the wooden pony that was righting himself. Filthy grit his teeth. Aside from that chunk out of it’s shoulder it seemed no worse for the wear. He knew he had this… magic inside of him, but it was useless right now. Unless… there were more. Unicorns used magic in all sorts of different ways.
And there was one easy way they used it. Mental images of just pure magic shot from horns he had seen and heard of from unicorn heroes flashed in his mind. He had magic. That seemed like the easiest thing to do.
He pointed a hoof, and felt around inside of him for that spark of power. There needed no form, no special words, no gestures but his aim. He could feel it, and the power would come when he summoned it. It was his power, after all, and he called-no-he commanded it to come forth.
And came forth it did. Like an electric shock he felt it pulse down his hoof, and a beam of light blue energy shot out, blasting into the wooden pony ahead of him, taking another, larger chunk out of its shoulder’s bark.
As if it were shocked, the wooden pony reeled back, apparently looking at the now large wound on its shoulder. It tried to dart forward, only for it’s foreleg to collapse under its own weight, and Filthy Rich shot again, this time the beam striking it in it’s the side of it’s head, carving a hole in it.
The wooden pony, now without a head, slumped down and landed in a pile. Filthy felt his heart pounding in his ears. He won. He won against a monster in one on one combat. He breathed deeply as this fact settled in his mind, when the sounds of grunting brought him back to the present. Looking around he saw Sand Castle in the same good position, but his wife was still on her stalemate with her respective beast.
Filthy smirked, and pointed a hoof, shooting another lance of blue force at her adversary, blasting a divot into its side. She looked back, her eyes wide with more surprise. The wooden pony, however, was far less shocked. It looked back between the two ponies, the one brandishing a sword, and the other which had just shot something, and backed itself off, disappearing into the dark brush.
He turned back to Sand Castle’s fight, to find that he had finished his fight as well, the pummeled wooden pony laying on the ground. It definitely wasn’t getting up. The knife in his mouth seemed entirely unused.
“Is everyone alright?” Filthy asked.
Spoiled Rich sheathed the short blade she had. “I managed.” She looked entirely untouched, and her blade was pristine. Did she spend the whole time in a stalemate?
Filthy felt a smirk tug at his lips. She didn’t have to dirty her hooves, because of the power he commanded. He could swear he felt a dim thrum deep inside himself where before there was none. Would he always feel this way? Or only after wielding the power?
Whichever was true, it was a good feeling.
A muffled word came from Sand Castle, and the pair of them looked over to him, and he had tucked the dagger into his work clothes, and was holding the torch. He nudged his head over in the direction they had been following, and started walking that direction.
Filthy and Spoiled looked back toward the darkness they came from. Rustling could be heard, and they shared a look.
“Let’s keep going, we have a filly to find,” Filthy Rich said, and set off behind the large sea pony.