A Minor Problem
Several sounds could be heard inside the barn-turned-mead-hall-turned-madhouse, all of them loud.
The first was the roaring of the Ursa Minor currently rampaging through the rearmost eighth of the building, which was pretty much exactly what you'd expect a giant star bear to sound like: deep, angry, and terrifying.
The second was the feedback of Vinyl Scratch's sound system, squealing as the Ursa flattened one of the speakers and crushed the microphone underfoot, along with the rest of the stage. Vinyl's curse-filled screaming at this affront, while truly something to behold, was inaudible.
And last but certainly not least, there was the screaming of the hundreds of ponies vacating the premises as fast as they could, all of whom were saying some variation of “aaaaaaah.” Except louder.
Thank goodness the entryway doors were on the opposite side to the Ursa, otherwise the entire crowd would have been rendered into so many panicky sardines crammed into a single tragic wooden tin. There, with the pull-tab for that tin in the form of a strong arm and a loud voice, was Archer.
“Go! Go! Go! Come on! Single-file!” He continued waving the torrent of equine bodies out of the hall, peering inside over the outgoing flood to make sure nothing like a falling support had trapped someone inside. Satisfied that such was not the case, he shut the door behind the last fleeing pony - a shambling purple mare who apparently loved cider more than he ever did.
After a moment’s thought, he set the deadbolt as well. Every bit counts.
***
The town square had become a scene of pure pony pandemonium, of crushing, clip-clopping chaos, of horrendous, horsey havoc.
It was disorganized and there were a lot of hoofed things about, is my point.
The Mayor/Mare of Ponyville continually and desperately tried to calm down the populace, but she was, without fail, drowned out by some pony or other shouting things like “Where’s my mommy,” or “Has anyone seen so-and-so,” or “I don’t know why we’re all yelling.”
Rule Four Hundred, Twenty-Seven of the Monster Hunters’ Field Guide: A panicking crowd is a bigger threat than the thing it’s panicking about. It was with this knowledge that Archer climbed up to the town hall’s roof via its gutter pipe, and proceeded to deafen everyone in a fifty-meter radius.
“QUIIIIEEEEEEET!”
A pin dropped.
“Now,” he said, “I promised Vinyl I’d give her her megaphone back ‘soon,’ so I want to keep this brief. Running around like a bunch of beheaded poultry is not going to solve any of our problems.”
“But it’s worked so well for us in the past!” one pony objected.
“Regardless, that’s now how we’re going to do it this time. We need to be smart to get rid of something that dumb, as odd as that sounds. Now, I know this is sort of a tall order, but I need to know if anyone has had experience repelling monsters of this size before.”
“Oh! Oh!” Rainbow Dash flew up to him, grinning. “Twilight does! She got rid of one just like this all by herself once!”
“Right,” Archer said, scanning the multichromatic crowd. The telltale shade of eggplant purple failed to appear. “But, uh... she’s not here.”
“That’s a serious problem.”
“No kidding.” He raised the megaphone back up. “Has anybody seen Twilight Sparkle?”
***
Meanwhile, halfway across town, Twilight Sparkle was performing her best impression of a chainsaw.
An exact duplicate of her stood over her unconscious form, levitating a piece of parchment and an ink quill.
“‘Eliminate the only possible cop-out...’ Check! My, my, Arrowhead, you have outdone yourself this time. Now, item five: ‘Find a good seat and watch the fireworks.’”
Arrowhead glanced around, realized he was on a balcony, and smartly sat down.
“...Check!”
***
The uncertain response from the crowd did little to reassure him.
“Okay,” he said, “So we’re going to have to assume Twilight’s missing in action until proven otherwise. Anyone else?”
The general consensus on the subject was “No.”
“Alright, so I have to drive this thing off by myself. Fantastic. But as of right now, you’re all honorary members of the Monster Hunters Reserve. If I need your help, you’re going to have to give it, to the best of your ability. Alright?”
The crowd’s response was a little more enthusiastic this time.
“Our first order of business is to find a shelter. We need somewhere secluded that the Ursa can’t easily get to, or wouldn’t find. Any ideas?”
“Oh! Me! Pick me!” A pink hoof shot up from among the mass of gathered ponies.
“Yes, Pinkie, what is it?”
“The lab!” she exclaimed, bouncing up between two other bystanders. “We can hide everypony there! It’s underground, and the walls are sixteen inches of solid concrete!”
There was a brief silence.
“Well, then. We’ll reconvene there. Mayor, I trust you can...?”
“I’m on it. This way, everypony!”
The crowd, happy for some coherent direction, turned as one to follow her.
“Hang on!”
And then they turned back around.
“What?”
Archer looked down and shuffled uncomfortably.
“I need help getting down.”
***
Archer paced back and forth in the spacious confines of Pinkie’s basement, as he was wont to do in times of pondering.
“Alright,” he said, to the ponies assembled in front of him. “We’re all in agreement that the Ursa needs to be driven off, correct?”
“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, hovering somewhere above and to the left of him. “But how are we going to do that? I don’t see you pulling any magic out of that fancy scarf of yours.”
“No, no magic,” he sighed, pulling a small cart out from under one of the larger shelves lining the wall. “But what I do have is a plan.”
He flicked a small tab on the device mounted atop the cart, causing it to sputter to life and beam an inflated picture onto the wall.
“This, as you know,” he said, uncapping an ink marker, “is Ponyville. This,” he marked on the lower part of the map, “is Sweet Apple Acres. And here is the Ursa’s last known location. Before we can focus on repelling it, however, we have to ensure that no civilians are caught in the collateral damage. To that end, we must evacuate.
“Everyone in this area,” which he marked in a bold outline, “is at the most immediate risk. Should the Ursa approach from this direction, they will be the ones most likely to suffer damage. Mayor Mare?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll need you to organize the evacuation. Find the fastest ponies you can, and get them into the southwestern quadrant of the town. Evacuate from the outskirts in, understand?”
“Oh! Oh!” Rainbow waved from above. “I’m fast! I can help!”
“Please do,” he deadpanned. “And for all our sakes, don’t blow anything up this time.”
By this time, the Mayor had drifted into the crowd, calling names and ordering them to specific streets.
“While she does that,” Archer said, “Vinyl Scratch!”
A white head poked out from the crowd. “What?”
“Do you have a spare sound system we can borrow?”
“After what happened to the last one? Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Meh, okay. It’s in the shed behind my house.”
“Great. Big Mac, get some stallions and help her cart it,” he marked an empty spot on the map, “here, to Market Square. You reckon you can do that?”
“Eeyup.”
“The rest of you...!” he called, before drawing a blank as to what to say next. He gestured furtively. “...Mingle! I’ll be back if I need you. Pinkie, if you’d be so kind, I need a pair of binoculars.” He paused for thought. “And a ladder.”
***
“See anything?”
“No, take me up a little higher!”
Pinkie grunted, leaning back on her rear hooves. “How about now?”
“That’s good! Keep it there!”
Archer balanced on top of the ladder, one hand holding the binoculars (oversized for him, just like everything else around here), the other maintaining his treacherous balance.
“Do you see the Ursa? Where is it?”
“In... the same place. Huh.”
“What’s it doing?”
“I don’t know. It looks like it’s eating something. Hang on.”
“Could we hurry it up, please? My legs are getting wobbly!”
“As I seem to recall,” Archer said, looking down, “It was your idea to have take the ladder onto the roof with us. So don’t complain to me if it’s not working out.”
“But it’s really, really not working out!” she cried, teetering on one leg. “Pick up the pace!”
“Alright, alright.” He brought the binoculars back up. “Ok, it seems to be... appears... to be...”
“To be what!?” she yelled, rocking the ladder back and forth. “What is it!?”
“It’s drinking the cider!”
Pinkie’s flailing stopped for a moment. “What?”
“It’s drinking those two giant barrels of apple cider! That... actually makes sense, come to think of it. I could have sworn....”
“Ok, so it’s not coming into town just yet. Great!” she said, tearing up. “Fantastic, even! Can you please come down now?!”
“Alright, fine,” he sighed, climbing down. “Next time, we’re just using the roof.”
As he jumped down, Pinkie dropped the ladder with a loud sigh and an even louder clatter. “Worst idea ever,” she said to herself. “Ever.”
“Standing on top of a ladder being carried by a talking pony,” Archer muttered, watching her fall onto her front and rub at her aching forelegs. “Seems safe enough.”
***
The basement looked marginally more crowded than it did when he left. So that was a good sign.
He pressed back towards the dormant projector, arresting the attention of everypony present with a flash.
“Okay, status update! Mayor, evacuations?”
“We’ve cleared out the outermost two blocks. We’re working on the third, but...”
“Good enough. I need you to make sure there’s no one on the route from Sweet Apple Acres to Market Square.” He marked said route on the projection. “Because that’s exactly where the bear’s going to come through.”
“And how are you so sure it’s going to do that?”
“Because,” he said, adding an appropriate doodle to an empty corner, “we’ve got bait.” That last word was repeated by the onlooking Equestrians with varying levels of confusion and incredulity. “Yes, bait. Tell me, did anyone taste honey in that Sweet Apple Acres cider?”
A wave of comprehension passed over the crowd, followed shortly by a wave of grins.
“Now, I know what you’re thinking, and no, we can’t simply lure the Ursa away from town. From what I hear, anyone strong enough to carry one of the cider barrels would tire out before they could get far enough away.”
“Then what are we...!?”
“What we are going to do, Rainbow Dash, is lure the Ursa into Ponyville.” He was answered with a deafening round of absolute silence. “What?”
The endless sea of happy faces was gone. Now everyone was looking at him like he’d just recited eight verses of Henry the Eighth backwards.
Rainbow Dash fluttered in behind him. “Heh heh, sorry folks, looks like Archer’s just a little out of it.” She began pushing at him. “One too many hits of the cider, I tell ya—”
“Rainbow Dash, let go of me.”
“I’m getting you out of here before you start a riot,” Rainbow hissed. “Start walking!”
“Let go of me and let me explain, or a riot’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
“Fine,” she said, floating backwards a few feet. “But you’ve got one shot.”
“Okay,” he said, addressing the crowd. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. And no, I’m not insane. In, fact, I—”
“HE’S GOING TO KILL US ALL!”
With that proclamation, the throng descended into sheer mindless panic. Screaming ponies picked a random direction and set off at full gallop, turning Pinkie’s lab into a self-contained stampede-stroke-blender. In their blind rush to go somewhere other than right where they were a second ago, the crowd knocked over things, trampled things, and generally made a big mess.
“Now hang on a—” said Archer, immediately before being bowled over by a speeding Equestrian. The impact took the projector with it, shattering its glass and causing the bulb underneath to flicker and die.
Pandemonium reigned for another twenty seconds...
“HEY!”
...then swiftly and with much cowardice vacated its seat of power, for Pinkie Pie had come into possession of a megaphone. Every pony present skidded to a halt.
“Rose, what did I tell you about randomly screaming in terror?”
The mare in question smiled sheepishly and backed behind one of the still-upright lab cabinets.
“Honestly, everypony! You’re giving Archer less of a chance than Rainbow Dash is!”
“Hey!”
“Don’tcha think that if he didn’t want to help us, he wouldn’t be here right now? And if you can’t—”
“Yes, thank you, Pinkie,” Archer said, nudging the megaphone away from her face. “Who started this? Miss Rose?” he asked, addressing the crowd. The pale mare peeked from behind her hiding spot. “You’re fired. Go sit in the corner. As for the rest of you, here’s the plan. The real plan.” He set the projector upright and stretched the transparency over the bare bulb.
“One of the pegasi will sneak past the Ursa Minor and acquire a barrel of cider, and will proceed to wave it in the Ursa’s face and get it to follow. The bait-carrier will follow a path I have prescribed, ensuring the shortest travel time and least amount of collateral damage. He will set the barrel here—” He marked the center of Market Square. “—and proceed to make himself scarce. Once the Ursa is in position, Miss Vinyl will hopefully have her sound system at the ready. On my signal, we will produce the loudest wave of noise we can muster, which will hopefully spook it badly enough to send it running straight back into the Everfree.”
“Hopefully?” asked one of the ponies present.
“Yes.”
“And what if hope doesn’t do anything?”
Archer sighed, looking over the crowd. He pointed. “You see that?”
They turned. “That” was the Thermonuclear Party Popper, in all its metallic, unfinished glory.
“Yeah?”
“That is a bomb,” he said, causing another ripple of shock to grip the crowd. “It is also our plan of last resort.”
“You’d destroy Ponyville?” the Mayor asked, half outraged, half scared out of her wits.
“Madame Mayor, we’re trying to get rid of a natural disaster in bear form. I’d rather be rid of the Ursa and the town than lose the town and have the Ursa still on the warpath. If we fail tonight, Ponyville is doomed regardless.”
“Then we will not fail,” she said, with a simple, defiant confidence.
Archer grinned. “That’s the kind of attitude I want to see.”
***
Ditzy Doo peered down at Sweet Apple Acres from the safety of a nearby thunderhead.
Scratch that, she was both peering down at Sweet Apple Acres and simultaneously glancing down and to the right at a random line of apple trees. But she was at least peering down, and that was a victory.
The Ursa was chewing up the floorboards of the now thoroughly ruined mead hall. From the smell, Ditzy imagined the wood had been soaked with spilled cider. Once all that was gone, though, the bear would almost certainly make for Ponyville and continue its rampage in search of things to chew on.
It did not enter Ditzy's mind how odd it was that the plan to get rid of the Ursa involved leading it directly into Ponyville first. She was just glad they had a plan at all.
She dove while the Ursa's back was turned. The Apple family homestead was miraculously untouched - thank Celestia for small favors - but unless she worked quick, that wouldn't stay true for long. She threw the door to the house's cellar open, disappearing into the dank storeroom beyond. She reemerged with a barrel in hoof, prying off the top to ensure that, yes, it held a full thirty gallons of Sweet Apple Acres grade-A twenty-proof honey apple cider.
Perfect.
She toted the keg above the Ursa, which was busily gnawing on a soaked piece of tapestry. She tipped it ever so slightly - just enough to spill a few drops on its very sensitive (if large) ursine nose.
The Ursa's head jerked up at the first splash of honey-scented goodness. It liked that smell. It loved that smell. And the weird grey thing floating far, far up was holding something that positively reeked of that smell.
It had to have more. It needed more.
“Yoo hoo! Mister Bear!” called Ditzy, waving the barrel back and forth. “Fresh delicious, right here!”
It did what any giant constellation monster in its situation would do.
It jumped for all it was worth.
Ditzy let the air being rapidly displaced by its grabbing claws push her away from being clapped to oblivion. It landed and examined its inexplicably empty claws. Only when Ditzy started hooting and making catcalls from the direction of the townward road did it get off its massive star-spangled rump and give chase.
***
“So, this is it?”
The “spare” sound system easily matched the old in size. Its two massive stereo towers flanked either side of a microphone stand and sound board that looked comically tiny in comparison.
“Yep,” Vinyl said, leaning against the tower with a hint of pride in her voice. “If this baby doesn't send the Ursa running with its tail between its legs, nothing will.”
“That's what I'm afraid of,” Archer muttered, scanning the road he'd told Ditzy to come in on. He'd had his doubts about accepting the cockeyed pegasus's volunteer offer, but for some reason Rainbow Dash seemed unusually eager to have her doing this instead of helping set up the speakers.
There may have been a very good reason for that, in retrospect.
“Rainbow!” he called. Said pegasus was hovering above the square on lookout. “Any sign of her yet?”
“Nope,” she answered, perching on a nearby roof. “She's been gone for almost half an hour. Do you think she... Wait!”
“What?”
“Here she comes!”
Ditzy announced her presence by flying headlong into a window far down the road. She reappeared with the bait barrel locked in a vice grip, making a beeline for Market Square. She happened to be screaming.
While that would be worrying in any other situation, she earned a pass here because she was being chased by a giant bear. Screaming was a totally normal reaction.
The bear in question galumphed down the road from Sweet Apple Acres, skidding into a loose turn that left it crumpling side-first into the building Ditzy Doo had been in moments before.
Archer directed Ditzy to drop the bait in the middle of Market Square, an order with which she all too happily complied. She released the keg like a bomb, not stopping until the barrel was half-cracked open on impact and she was as far from the bear as possible.
The assembled Equestrians plus one human gave the Ursa a wide berth as it entered the Square. It sauntered, almost lazily, towards where Ditzy had dropped the cider keg. With a flick of its wrist, it tossed the barrel up in the air and devoured it in a single saliva-spraying bite.
It then happened to glance to its left and notice the two massive stereo towers which, in its defense, barely reached up to its elbows.
“Miss Vinyl,” the tiny thing on two legs said to his associate, “If you please?”
“Righto. Big Mac, hit it!”
Something bulky, red, and less tiny than the rest of its friends stepped up to a podium. It then yelled as hard as it could.
Big Mac was normally taciturn to a fault. His reserved demeanor and monosyllabic vocabulary lent him the image of the “gentle giant”. But anyone who knew him could assure you that when he got mad, he got loud.
The ensuing bellow cracked windows, caused the cobblestone streets to vibrate and resettle in strange and unusual ways, and probably made every pony (plus human) very glad they had brought ear protection.
The Ursa blinked.
It then brought down a two-ton paw on one of the stereo towers, crushing it like a tin can.
Vinyl fixed Archer with an angered glare. He shrugged helplessly.
“I don’t get it. That should have worked.”
“Well it didn’t, and now I’m out another sound system.”
“Really, the only reason the Ursa wouldn’t respond to a loud roar exactly like that would be if it was rabid...”
The Ursa proceeded to roar right back at them.
Along with saliva and stench of long-digested meals, its breath carried the telltale stink of alcohol.
“...or drunk,” Archer finished, holding his nose.
“Glad we got that sorted out.”
“Right. Now then. RUN AWAY!”
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Why is everything updating the night I wanted to go to sleep early?
Welp, that didn't end well.
yet another awesome update, this story never fails to be both epic AND hilarious.
an fantastic combo, if i do say so m'self
Yes Twilight took out an Ursa.
And Arrowhead took her out of the game.
But Fluttershy took out a dragon...
And a cockatrice...
And a bear...
And Cerberus...
Oversight?
1033580 She's asleep in her house and no one thinks to ask her. Because she's Fluttershy.
oh the plans of ponies and men :D nice work
Alondro nonchalantly walks in front of the Ursa and fixes its eyes in his cold, steel gaze. "Stop. Now."
The Ursa instantly skids to a stop, an expression of terror crossing its muzzle. It heard stories of this... thing...
Alondro raises a finger, pointing at the starred bear, an orb of absolute blackness, sucking in every shred of daylight, growing at the tip.
The Ursa bellows in terror and turns to flee, but before it can make one step, three words dripping with death echo through the little town of Ponyville, "Cero Oscuras Ultimarius." A curtain of ebon fury erupts and engulfs the Ursa, which can nary manage a cry of shock before its body evaporates in the blast.
Alondro friggin rocks so hard.
(And that, ponies, is how you GOD-MODE Alondro-style!)
1036084
i46.tinypic.com/furjae.jpg
“But it’s worked so well for us in the past!”
...
Yeaaa ...
"Archer balanced on top of the ladder, one hand holding the binoculars (oversized for him, just like everything else around here), the other maintaining his treacherous balance."
Shouldn't that be "undersized"?
"“That is a bomb,” he said, causing another ripple of shock to grip the crowd. It is also our plan of last resort.”"
There's a missing quotation mark here.
1042548 I fixed the second. The first is left in because humans and Equestrians are roughly eye-level in this story. Everything else being proportional, pony binoculars would be quite wide.
1042613
Ah, okay; I must have forgotten that feature of this story.
1042820 Huh. I figure she's just magically better at it. If Octavia and Pinkie were forced to play "The Devil Went Down to Georgia," Pinkie would be forced to play the Devil every time.
Aw shit...
Well there goes plan A.
Do we have a plan C, or are we going straight to the nuclear option?
I'd like to see of this monster hunter guide book. Sounds fun!!!!!
As always lookin forward to more.
Arrow Head is an evil prick. If this story has a bad guy its him. If thats what your aiming for (I think it is) then keep up the good work. Something tells me they'll have to use that bomb. Just a hunch.
Plan C: Lure the Ursa Minor back to it's mother.
I admit i was soata hoping for a crossover with the show archer but this is turning out even more awesome.
By the way the kings lineage? awesome touch
Not explaining what the heck thorinfel is? kinda a rotten deal.