Morbid Flashback
"And then, when she opened her eyes, she was completely surrounded... by the dirt!"
Ditzy's audience seemed less than impressed. "And?" asked Scootaloo.
The grey mare's ears drooped. "Um, that's it."
"That ain't scary!" proclaimed Apple Bloom.
Sweetie Belle was a bit more charitable. "Not unless you're my sister."
"C'mon, Mom!" implored Dinky. "Tell us a good ghost story!"
Ditzy frowned. "I thought that was a good ghost story. Used to scare the down off of me."
"Uh, no offense, Miss Ditzy," said Apple Bloom, "but dirt ain't scary t' ponies who didn't grow up in Cloudsdale."
"Except Rarity," added Sweetie Belle.
"Right. 'Cept fer Rarity."
Dinky beamed as an idea struck her. "Ooh! Why not tell us a planeswalking story?"
"Yeah!" Scootaloo enthused. "A scary one!"
"Ah betchya saw all sorts o' scary stuff when y' was whizzin' about all them weird worlds!" Apple Bloom gushed.
Ditzy scrunched her nose as she deliberated the proposal. "I don't know, girls. I was usually too busy avoiding or running from scary stuff to remember enough for a good story."
"Usually," noted Sweetie, "but not always?"
The grown mare thought a word she didn't want to say in front of fillies. "You won't be able to tell anypony, understand?"
This got a quartet of nods. "You can trust us, Miss Ditzy!" declared Scootaloo.
"We never told nopony before," Apple Bloom assured her, "an' we ain't tellin' nopony now!"
Sweetie Belle performed an exaggerated guard salute. "Crusader's honor!"
That was all the warning Ditzy got and needed before the trio blasted, "CUTIE MARK CRUSADER CONFIDANTES! YAY!"
After uncovering her ears, the planeswalker nodded, satisfied. "Well, good enough for me."
"What about Dinky?" asked Scootaloo.
The fourth filly gave her an incredulous look. "Are you kidding? She's my mom!"
Apple Bloom nodded. "O' course. If y' cain't trust family, then who can y' trust?"
"That," Ditzy acknowledged, "and she knows what'd happen to her if she blabbed." She fixed an unsettling glare on her daughter. "Isn't that right, Muffin?"
Dinky gave a morose nod. "I don't get to hear about your secret stuff anymore."
The Crusaders perked up at the mention of secrecy. "Like what?" piped Sweetie Belle.
Dinky stuck out her tongue. "It's secret, silly!"
Ditzy nodded. "Now, do you want to hear the story?"
This got a torrent of confirmation, to which she smiled and replied, "Okay, okay, calm down. Now, what do you want to hear? The Silly Old Pony Who Blew Up Time? The Strange Adventures of the Magic Mirror Ball? Maybe a fairy tale?"
Scootaloo sneered. "Fairy tales? Really? We want something scary!"
Ditzy smirked. "Did I mention that these fairies are wasplike creatures who want only to humiliate you, steal your dreams, and kill you if the opportunity presents itself?"
The younger pegasus gulped. "Um, okay. Not totally lame, I guess."
"I've heard those!" protested Dinky. "Tell us something that happened to you!" The Crusaders echoed her request, Scootaloo a bit louder than the others.
"Hmm. Well, I guess there is one story that would work. It takes place on the plane of Innistrad..."
Innistrad's not much like our world. Oh, there's air and gravity and lots of other things you take for granted, but there aren't any ponies. There are no princesses to guide its humble sun and silver moon, no caretakers to watch after the plants and animals, no technicians to make and manage the weather. Innistrad is a wild world, one that can and does take care of itself.
The magic's different, too. Here, it's built around skill and talent, around the balance of harmony and discord. There, it's a matter of life and death. Monsters stalk the night: restless spirits of the dead, ever-hungering walking corpses, cruel and imperious vampires. And the day's no better for you or me. It's the domain of the humans.
Yes, humans. Oh, they're real, alright. You won't see any in our world. Those few who can travel between planes turn into ponies when they come here and turn back when they leave, it's just the way our world works. But that's not the case on most worlds, Innistrad among them. They're not as bad as you may have heard – none have ever tried to eat me, which is more than I can say for goblins – but they're dangerous. It's because they're a lot like ponies.
Oh, you don't think we're dangerous? You, Scootaloo, who may one day summon thunderbolts just by kicking a cloud? How about you, Apple Bloom, with your bone-breaking legs and iron constitution? Or Sweetie Belle? There are few things more terrifying than a unicorn who hasn't found her special talent. Who knows what you'll be capable of.
Relax, girls. I'm just making a point. Besides, humans aren't dangerous because they can call down hailstones or kick through steel or perform great feats of magic. Well, most of them can't. No, it's because, like ponies, they fear the unfamiliar, and there's little more unfamiliar than a creature who's foreign to your very universe.
In Innistrad, where the unfamiliar, where the inhuman is more than likely to be a lethal threat, that fear is at its peak. There's no reasoning with an Innistrader, no chance at friendship, no hope of mutual understanding. They'll go for the torches and pitchforks before you can even introduce yourself, and that's speaking from experience. Fortunately, I know a few illusions, so I could disguise myself, but it was still touch-and-go. There was no telling what would happen to me if I was discovered for what I really was.
Now, this particular adventure happened to me in the province of Kessig, which is dominated by the Ulvenwald Forest. The Ulvenwald is a wild place, even more so than the rest of that world, a surly hermit compared to the petulant child that is the Everfree. It is a cruel, harsh wood, where branches snatch wings out of the sky and wolves stalk the undergrowth. And those are merely the mundane dangers. Worse are—
I'm just setting the scene, Scootaloo. If you don't like how I tell the story, I could try a fairy tale.
That's what I thought. Where was I?
Right. I had just planeswalked away from a rather awkward meeting on another plane, one called Kamigawa. That's not really part of the story, but suffice to say, I didn't go back there for a few years, just to be on the safe side. Anyway, I found myself in Innistrad, deep in the Ulvenwald, and I was flat-out lost. Trees in every direction, blocking out the horizon, the sky, and very nearly the ground, what with all the leaf litter.
Now, I'd gotten used to the ground by this point, but this was the first time I was outside but couldn't see the sky. As Scootaloo can tell you, pegasi don't even like ceilings much. There, I didn't even have the option to go outside. I already was outside, but the dense, tangled branches that hung between me and open air were as impassible a boundary as a brick wall. As you might imagine, my nerves were getting pretty frazzled.
Then the howls started, and I really started to panic. They weren't wolf howls. Too deep. Too long. Something much bigger and meaner was calling to its fellows, alerting them to prey. That is, to me.
No, not timberwolves. I've only ever seen those here in Ungu... in Equestria. What I heard that night were werewolves. Human by day, feral half-man, half-wolf horrors by night.
Why didn't I planeswalk again? It's not really walking, Sweetie. It's more like trying to push through solid rock using nothing but sheer force of will. In every direction. All at the same time. I needed a breather before I could force my way back out of Innistrad, and from the sound of it, I wasn't getting the chance to lie down and rest.
No, just using my magic wasn't an option, Scootaloo. My magic is what lets me planeswalk, and I was nearly tapped dry at the time. So I did the only thing I could do.
I ran.
Don't look so disappointed, Muffin. I would've definitely made them think twice if I'd been able to. As it was, I needed to make sure I'd live long enough to be able to.
I was in luck. I soon saw a light in the distance, a flickering that spoke of a fire. Where there was fire, there would be people, and shelter. Plus, it gave me a goal to aim for.
The howls kept pace with me. I couldn't help but think that they were toying with me, letting me think that I had a chance. Werewolves are just clever enough to pull something like that. Still, it added an extra dash of adrenaline to my gallop.
If they did have something planned, it must have fallen apart before they could tighten the noose. Soon enough, I could make out the light source. It was a small cottage, not too unlike Fluttershy's, but this one was right up against a massive tree wider than it was. I hadn't noticed until I got close, but the light wasn't the warm hue of a fire. It was an odd, cool blue.
Of course, by that point, I wouldn't have cared if it was bright purple with green polka dots. I had hungry wolves the size of big, angry gorillas on my back. I only paused long enough to cast a quick illusion to look human, one that barely required any magic, and—
Really? We're kind of in the middle of the story, and—
Oh, fine. Here. I looked like this.
Satisfied? Okay, so, I disguised myself, then knocked on the door.
An old man answered it. You all know Mister Wattle? Think him, but human and with a close-cropped beard. "The devil are you doing out here, young lady?" he asked. "Didn't think anyone would be this deep in the woods."
Years of pretending to be human had made me a pretty good actress, but I didn't need to fake my fear. "I think I'm being followed. Please, let me stay until sunrise?"
He nodded and cleared the doorway. "Certainly, come in, come in."
Twilight Sparkle would've loved the place. Where there weren't books, there were workbenches, or examination tables, or cabinets full of all sorts of odd chemicals. I couldn't help but give a "Wow."
The old man chuckled at that. "Not quite the setup I'm used to, but it gets the job done. What brings you this far into the Ulvenwald?"
"I never meant to," I said honestly. You can't really aim when you planeswalk, but I certainly wasn't going to mention that.
He nodded, thinking he understood. "All too easy to get lost in these parts after dark."
I slumped to the floor, relief exhausting me. "Thank you so much, sir. I'll repay you however I can."
"Of course, of course," said my host. He took one of the flasks from the workbench. "But first, could you indulge an old man's superstitions?"
I shrugged, my disguise's shoulders rising and falling with my wings. "Sure, I guess."
"Good." He raised the flask to my eye level. It looked like water. "Just a little splash of this to make sure no unpleasant geists have followed you in. Won't even stain, I promise."
No, he didn't mean guests. He meant ghosts. It was a perfectly reasonable precaution for Innistrad. Besides, I wanted to be a good guest and I didn't want to be any kind of ghost, so I let him.
Well, as soon as the first few drops hit my illusion, it felt like he'd set my coat on fire. I screamed, a real full-throated whinny, and the jig was up.
It's okay, Muffin. This was a long time ago, and I'm here to tell the tale. Besides, didn't you want a scary story?
So, I collapsed and started thrashing. My body kept trying to get the burning stuff off, whatever it was. As I flailed, the wicked old man boasted, "Aqua imperia. Like aqua regia, but it dissolves magic, not matter." Then he just pulled out a chair and sat patiently, waiting for me to exhaust myself as the acid ate away at my magic.
When I was finally still and sobbing, he lifted me onto that examination table and tied a strap around each hoof. Then he got a belt, wrapped it around my barrel, and cinched it tight, trapping my wings.
After that, he took a step back and... well, I've seen similar expressions on ponies admiring fine art. "Incredible," he said. "Body of a horse, wings of a bird, tongue of a man, and eyes like I've never seen! Who made you, little one?"
I'll be honest, I'm not quite sure if I was in control of my mouth at the time, what with the pain, the sorrow, and thinking I only had moments to live. It was that last that settled it. I had nothing left to lose. Why not tell the truth? "I don't think you've heard of her," I croaked, my throat still raw.
"'Her'?" The madman considered this for a moment, then shrugged and said, "Well, why not? Not nearly enough women in the fine arts and sciences, I say! Take young Gisa for example," and here he picked up a scalpel and began gesturing with it far too expansively for my comfort. "Lovely girl, passionate about her work, undeniably talented, but what did she use it for? Sibling rivalry! Taking over the world! Hah! She spat in the face of death as easily as blinking, how much more power did she need? And now she's in jail, if not already executed."
He shook his head. "Her brother Geralf's no better. Oh, I tried to teach him, I tried, but you can only fill a leaky barrel so far before anything new just starts dribbling out." He sighed, then looked at the blade in his hand as though he had no idea how it had gotten there. Unfortunately, he remembered. "Right! The autopsy!" He began feeling along the... the base of my wing. He didn't do it for very long though, thank Celestia.
Hmm? Oh, it's just sensitive there. Very, very... sensitive.
Anyway, since this crazy human had been convinced I was a bunch of stitched-together body parts, he couldn't understand why he couldn't find any stitches between my body and my wings. "It doesn't make sense!" he cried. "Winged horses do not exist!"
"Hello."
"Quiet! You are not scientifically possible! The scientifically impossible are not allowed to speak!"
Well, that was when I knew I'd pushed him too far. He brought his arm back, the scalpel in his grip poised to stab somewhere I'd really rather stay unstabbed.
He swung his arm down, and just at that moment, something busted the door in. The sound and the flying wooden shards distracted the human, and the scalpel slammed into the table just to the left of my eye. He turned, eyes bright with madness. "What now?" he spat. Wearily, I thought the same thing.
We both realized the nature of the newcomer at the same time. The wolf's head made the creature's nature obvious enough, but it wasn't like any werewolf I'd ever seen. It wasn't a slavering, apelike beast, but a nobly proportioned creature whose very presence commanded respect. Not fear, respect. Very important distinction.
Oh, and it was wearing pants and a hat that were tailored for it. Werewolves usually tore off their clothes the first chance they got.
Anyway, it spoke with a voice like continental drift: low and slow, but utterly uninterruptible. "Ludevic Stelhofson. By the authority of the archangel Avacyn and her holy church, you are under arrest. Do not resist."
The madman sneered at the not-a-werewolf. "You'll never take me alive!" He spoke defiantly, but he was edging towards the back of the room.
My savior bared his teeth. His big, sharp, pointy teeth. "That is not required." He stalked into the cottage.
"I'm afraid you misunderstood, my fine, furry friend." Ludevic put his hand up his sleeve, his sneer becoming a smirk. "I meant you'll never take me while you're alive. Care to try your luck dead?" He hurled a vial at the stately creature. It shattered on impact, wreathing the wolfman in vivid blue smoke.
The wolfman strode out of the cloud no worse for the wear. "Are you finished?"
Ludevic gaped at the creature. Whatever he'd expected his smoke bomb to do, that wasn't it. He slumped to his knees. "But... you... how?"
The werewolf-but-not grabbed the alchemist by the neck of his robe and hoisted him into the air with one arm. "The same way my curse has been remade into a blessing, cretin: The grace of Avacyn."
Oh, right. Sorry. Avacyn is basically Innistrad's Celestia. Well, she doesn't move the sun, but she does watch over and protect the humans.
That's right, it moves on its own, like I said. Believe it or not, that's the case for most worlds.
I know, right?
Anyway, the wolf-thing was so focused on his quarry that he didn't even notice little old me. After a couple of hours, I had recovered enough to undo the restraints. Of course, I was still stranded in the wilds of a foreign universe, but I'll tell you how I got out of that sticky situation another time.
"Aww, why not now?" Dinky answered herself with a yawn.
Ditzy smiled. "That's why, Muffin. It's late, and I think I've given you all enough nightmare fodder for tonight."
"Feh." Scootaloo's eyelids drooped. "Wasn't that scary..."
The four fillies' sleepy susurrus soon followed. Ditzy spread a blanket over them and tiphoofed out of the room.
She popped her head into her own bedroom. Address Unknown looked up from his book. "How's the slumber party going?"
"Actually slumbering," said Ditzy.
Address grinned. "Coming to bed, then?"
"In a bit. Brought up some old memories."
The stallion frowned and shifted forward. "You going to be okay?"
Ditzy nodded. "Yeah. Just need to think."
She left the house, fluttered up to the roof, and lay on her back, taking in the stars. While her eyes drifted about the cosmos, her mind went back to the events of that night on in Innistrad, what really happened rather than the abbreviated tale for tired young ears.
A sound blow to the head sent the alchemist crumpling, but Franz did not relax. Ludevic was an infamous skaaberen, a prolific creator of alchemical undead of all shapes, sizes, and capabilities. He may not have had much time since fleeing Havengul, but assuming that he hadn't created some manner of muscle could easily be the wolfir's downfall.
Franz swept the room with eyes, ears, and nose, some small part of him still relishing the union of wolf senses and human sensibility. He would never be able to fully repay Avacyn for transforming him as she had, but he would spend his life trying. Amazingly, there was no hint of preserved flesh or rotting viscera amid the chemical stink of the refuge. It seemed that he really had caught the necro-alchemist totally off-guard.
Then he saw the operating table and realized how wrong he was. Staring at him was a strange creature, a sort of winged horse, a peculiar parody of the recently returned griffs. Unlike the half-heron steeds, the aberration simply bore feathered wings on an otherwise equine frame, though one far too small to support even as wizened a man as Ludevic. Perhaps he was practicing before committing the resources for a full-sized version?
Franz gave a soft growl as he dismissed the thought. It didn't matter what the madman had been thinking when making this thing. It was a pox on Innistrad, a mockery of true life. It would have to go.
Ditzy probably would've disputed that point, but the wolfir hadn't voiced it, and she was too immobilized by fear and pain to be much of a conversationalist. All she could do was stare in silent horror as the beastman raised his claws, no doubt to slaughter her, feast on her body, and seriously, imagination, now was not the time!
The pegasus shoved the gruesome details of her own demise out of her mind, then realized that she still could. The monster looming above her had never dropped his claws. Smoky chains of black entangled him, fading in and out of view. Ditzy's heart leapt as she realized the ebon ribbons were magic. Her magic sight still worked! She was recovering! Now if she could just survive for a few more... hours.
Crap.
"You should count yourself very, very lucky." A smooth, cultured voice interrupted Ditzy's return to despair. Its owner moved into view. Grey skin, yellow-on-black eyes, arrogant demeanor, all the signs of one of Innistrad's vampires. But they avoided the forests as much as ghoulcrafters! Well, they were supposed to.
The vampire continued, heedless of Ditzy's confusion. "While the wolfir would've disposed of you, even your memory would raise far more questions than I care for." He leaned over and began opening the restraints. "And having another planeswalker owe you a favor is never an opportunity to be scorned."
"Another planeswalker?" The pegasus seemed as surprised by the question as her new savior. She was sure she'd swallowed her tongue in fright at some point.
The vampire gave a chuckle. "Ah yes, that always seems to throw off others. 'The undead can't planeswalk,' they think. But my condition is not a true undeath, merely... life differently lived." He straightened up. "There now. Let's see if we can't get you something for the aqua imperia exposure. Nasty stuff."
Ditzy tried to roll over, but found herself too exhausted. "How—?"
"I've dabbled some in alchemy," the other planeswalker said nonchalantly, rummaging through the collection of beakers. "Worked with it before. It's nearly odorless, but not quite. Not if you know what to look for. Smell for, rather. Ah!" He held up a stoppered flask full of a bluish fluid. "Perfect." He moved back to her side. "Time for your medicine, little pony."
Ditzy looked askance at the new liquid. "And what's that?"
"The condensed essence of a sturmgeist." The vampire shook the flask a bit. "Quite the potent one, if I'm any judge. Has quite the revitalizing effect on the thoroughly disenchanted." He looked at her with bemusement. "Come now. This is no time to be paranoid. If I meant you any harm, I would've just let Mister Tall, Dark, and Lupine there do his job." The pegasus sighed and opened her mouth. "Good girl."
The liquid ectoplasm clung to Ditzy's tongue, letting off oddly minty fumes. Her mind buzzed and blue smoke flowed out of her nostrils. She swallowed, sending a pleasant chill through her entire body. She rolled off of the table, stumbling a little, but found her feet in short order. "Thank you."
The vampire dismissed this with a wave. "As I said, I did it so you'd owe me."
"Still, you saved me." She offered a forehoof. "Ditzy Doo."
"Sorin Markov." Sorin shook the offered limb.
"It's very nice to meet you, Sorin." Ditzy grinned. "Friendly 'walkers seem few and far between."
He shrugged at this. "The Multiverse is not like your home, Miss Doo. A planeswalker's life is often a harsh one. Rarely does it encourage friendliness."
Ditzy stared at the vampire. On average. "Y... you know about Ungula?"
"Certainly." Sorin smiled fondly. "A place of exquisite simplicity and tranquility amid the tumult of the planes. I often go there when I need to relax."
"Could you take me there?"
The vampire quirked an eyebrow. "Lost, are we? I suppose, but that would be two favors you owe me."
Ditzy pouted. "I don't suppose someone who so appreciates my home would be wiling to just help a friend?"
Sorin shook his head. "You need to stop thinking in such terms, little pegasus. Planeswalkers are not friends just because they can traverse the planes. It is better to think of our august group as a family, with all the bickering and disfunction that implies."
"Whatever you say, Uncle Sorin."
"Uncle? Well, now you're making me feel old," said the man who helped seal the Eldrazi in Zendikar in a bygone age. "Think of me as an older cousin, an aloof role model who offers you scraps of wisdom in exchange for a chance to marvel at him."
Ditzy's memories offered a brash blue filly with a distinctive mane. She smiled. "You remind me of somepony. Not quite a friend, but certainly somepony I was glad to know."
"I am glad of it." Sorin swept an arm towards the door. "Shall we, Cousin?"
"What about the... wolfir, did you call him?" Ditzy poked the paralyzed creature.
"A few inconvenient memories, without something so distinctive as a death? A trifle for one of Szadek's old tricks."
The pegasus let curiosity overwhelm any feelings she might have had towards the casual reference to her demise. "Who?"
Sorin smiled wide, always impressive from a vampire. "Ah, have I a story for you..."
Wolfir Inquisitor 4GG
Creature - Wolf Soldier
Protection from blue
When Wolfir Inquisitor enters the battlefield, put any number of target cards in a single graveyard on the bottom of their owner's library in any order.
Necro-alchemists fled deep into the Ulvenwald, hoping that no man would dare follow them. They were half right.
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dohohoho
I certainly didn't expect the Wolfir Inquisition.
Oh boy! A side story on my favorite plane, featuring my second favorite Planeswalker. It'll be a very bearable wait between the updates of this arc.
A wait I'll partially fill with a thoughtful scour of this chapter for as many card references I can find.
Totally unrealistic. There's no way Ludevic should have been defeated so easily. He was in an alchemist's refuge, so he could cast all his spells at instant speed.
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NOBODY EXPECTS THE WOLFIR INQ - *bricked*
I wouldn't be so sure. Creatures that are so focused on their Wild Hunger tend to not even think once, and their Savagery only Increases when they know that prey is near. Better run fast, or they'll Gnaw you to the Bone.
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Their chief weapon is surprise...surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Their two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... Their three weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to Avacyn.... Their four...no... Amongst their weapons.... Amongst their weaponry... are such elements as fear, surprise.... I'll come in again.
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Pro blue. Doesn't matter what you can cast if you can't damage, enchant, block, or target.
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Don't be too sure. Despite her feelings of dread, had Ditzy been able to make travel preparations, she could've easily performed a few artful dodges, then laid down a truly divine reckoning in the increasing confusion.
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...You win.
2189610 Aetherize. Curfew. Devastation Tide. Dissipation Field. Ensnare. Evacuation. Hibernation. Inundate. Kederekt Leviathan. Soulquake. Sunken Hope. Upheaval. Wash Out. Waterspout Elemental. Words of Wind. Worldpurge.
Ah, this is fairly interesting, isn't it? I'll bet the ghost story she started with would scare more than the down off of somepony that gets mentioned later on.......
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2189291
2189610
AUUUUUUUUUUGH! THE PUNNNNNNNNNNNS!
2189727
Except those don't target. There are very few protections against spells that don't actually target.
I've a terrible track record when it comes to prediction, but I'll take a leap of faith and guess that Sorin is going to use Ditzy to launch a joint assault on his overzealous brethren. And while I'd like to see our prodigious planeswalker pegasus find more favorable winds beneath her wings, I fully expect you, FoME, to once again outwit my meager imagination and bring this arc to a far more natural end.
2189727
Don't forget the overloaded stuff that the Izzet so love. After all, no such things as enough power with those guys.
Okay, everypony stay with me here, Ditzy needs to take Sorin back to Equestria and team him up with the Wonderbolts. Then we'd havr Sorin and Soarin on the same team.
also, Spitfire and Chandra is totally a thing too.
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Who do you think told her that story?
2189727
The vast majority of those spells are not native to Innistrad, the one that is almost certainly won't be used by a fugitive from Avacynian authority, and those that have been developed on multiple planes are outside of Ludevic's usual methods. Remember, he's a necro-alchemist. His magic is going to be chemical or pertaining to the creation of unlife (or the reawakening of old life.)
2197461 Well, if you want to stick just to the flavor, Ludevic is in trouble unless he knows how to animate creepy dolls. If he does, then he's just fine.
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It was his only land, though. Except maybe a single forest.
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Oh, thank you!
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... I like this plan, and I'm happy to be a part of it.
That rejected title would have been the best thing ever.