The Chronicles of Darkness

by wizard12

Act 1: Chapter 2

Act 1: Chapter 2
While some may sleep
The shadow world weeps

For plots and schemes
And ambitious dreams

That bring to those
Who would fight those foes
Fear and Suffering on scales untold

--------- Royal Palace, Council Offices ---------

Bayes trotted alongside Amber as they made their way down the white marble floored corridor towards wherever she was leading him. It wasn't a long distance from the council offices and by the time Amber reached her office they'd only exchanged a few pleasantries and introductions. She motioned to him with her hoof to join her.

The office was panelled with old oak; carpets of deep red and blue covered the cold floor and matching curtains hung by the large, gothic style windows made out of the same white marble that made up the floors of the corridors. In the corner there was a small lit fireplace opposite to which was a drinks cabinet built to match the panelling. Bookshelves lined one whole wall and a large desk split the room in two.

"Take a seat," she said, nodding at two armchairs with upholstery that matched the carpet which were set around a low rectangular table "Can I get you a drink? Wine? cider? whisky?"

"I don't usually drink but hey, I'm not usually in Canterlot sitting on Celestia's own council... I'll take a whisky." the young lord said as he sat, pausing a second to reflect on how his clothes uncannily went with the rooms colour scheme.

Amber curled up into the remaining seat, handing a small glass of whisky to the new councillor. "You understand that Destron has been setting that little outburst up for weeks. He planned to call Celestia out on the operations she was doing behind his back he'd get some leverage." The gaudily dressed pony stared at Bayes with an eyebrow raised "you come in here, first day - fresh as grass to politics - and wreck his plan with your 'compromise'."

"Oh... err... didn't mean to... you see... erm..."

"Oh don't take me the wrong way! I'm happy for this. The Lord Commander is a great strategic mind but he's a little... rash... let's say. By doing this you may have prevented him forcing Celestia to go along with one of his rash plans. You may have even saved lives back there..."

"Wow, I never thought politics was very important..."

"Hmm... I can tell, you don't really get politics do you?"

"Well I was studying to become a military officer, not a lord... shouldn't the lordship of Hedrion gone to Dorthen, my cousin?"

"Well... in your province there is an obscure, traditional rule that decrees that a claim to the lords seat, or the throne as it was back when Hedrion was a kingdom, cannot go through a female pony; as your cousin traces his claim through your aunt he can't rightfully take the seat... I assumed you'd know this?"

"Well... as you said it's obscure... how do you know so much about my province?"

"I'm the head of economics for Celestia, it's my job to know all the little laws of the various provinces under her domain."

"Ah..."

"Anyway... seeing as Celestia pretty much agreed to your first proposal expect a lot of the less scrupulous Lords and Ladies to try and gain your favour."

"So because I'm the new pony on the street and the popular pony's taken a shine to me suddenly everyone will want to be my friend... that's basically what you're saying right?"

"That's pretty much politics. It's all about who you know and who likes you."

"Right... so isn't this just an attempt to befriend me and to thus gain 'leverage'?"

"You could say that, but I'm helping you aren't I? If I weren't seeking a true ally would I really be giving you advice, especially advice that make my own interests in you look suspicious."

"I guess so" Bayes raised the glass and looked at the rich, ginger coloured drink "to politics then..." he toasted.

"Yes... to politics..." Amber replied raising her own glass and sly smile flashing on her face for but a second as she took a sip of her drink...

--------- Canterlot Suburbs ---------

The world was black, pain pounded on the door into Brightmane's brain. He opened his eyes and the earth swirled. His ears were ringing. With toughness that only an Earth pony would have he staggered to his feet. "Military Intelligence... yeah right..." he muttered through gritted teeth.

The building was ablaze. It's once gaudy colours now turned into even brighter colours of orange, red and yellow. The sound of the aftermath came swirling back to his head. Shouts of "Medic!" and "Help!" and "Fire!" as well as screams and cries penetrated the roaring crescendo of the fire that was taking the small building by storm. The memories of the previous events started to come back, one by one, until it hit him like a steaming train - there was an innocent civilian inside that house. Heh, looks like I'm not the only one having a bad day the ash coated stallion thought unhappily.

Ignoring the heat of the flames, ignoring the fact that several of his ribs were probably cracked, ignoring the pounding pain in his head, Brightmane jumped through the window that he had aimed for before the explosion. Thankfully the fire had only set things like the curtains and a few wooden implements on fire. He was in the house's kitchen, two doors led out, one to his left, the other ahead. Brightmane ran up and bucked open the door to his front. It led into the living room, or what would have been the living room if it wasn't a burning wreck. The fire wooshed out of the door towards fresher air narrowly missing Brightmane by perhaps a tail's length.

A tongue of flame caught Brightmane's jacket under his armour and a small wisp of smoke appeared from the singed fabric. Diving to the floor and rolling over was simply a natural reaction for him, grunting at the pain that flared up from the fresh burn. Jumping up he bashed open the second door, this one led into a slightly less burning corridor with stairs leading up. As the kitchen was slowly engulfed in the spreading fire Brightmane ran for the stairs.

Taking them three, sometimes even four at a time he ran, dodging small patches of fire. The building shuddered. At the top of the stairs he found there to be nothing but a hole filled with burning beams and bits of floor and walls where the explosive device had detonated. Gripping the remains of the floor he slid slowly around the hole, holding onto exposed wooden beams and small holes where plumbing had once been.

The smoke fumes made his head spin, the heat of the fire was warming his armour to blistering temperatures - for all Brightmane knew, and the most likely case was, that the civilian was dead; blasted into collateral damage and incinerated in to just another statistic that would be covered up in a report mark confidential. On the bright side Brightmane might become one of those numbers and then Starbow could do the paperwork for a change.

Yeah, those fume defiantly are doing a number on me Brightmane thought as he swung himself over the lip of the hole and rolled onto the corridor that was opposite the stairs landing. The building grumbled and rumbled and some of the roof came crashing down somewhere in another part of the house. Brightmane struggled to his feet and charged the only door available to him.

Breaking through the weakened wood he maintained momentum, spotting a soot stained, very shocked pony who'd been laying on the floor to escape the smoke. Without losing speed Brightmane stooped and half helped, half dragged the pony up putting one of his front legs around the civilians neck. Running three hooves on the floor Brightmane rotated his body to shield the pony he was carrying as he shoulder barged his way through a large window.

The cool air rushed out to kiss the two ponies as they launched from the window. The wind was cold, freezing compared to the angry, rage filled inferno that had came so close to killing them. Fire light glinted off shards of glass which joined Brightmane and his civilian cargo as they fell together. Twisting his body round in the way everypony was trained to in cases such as these (he thought it the most useless drill at the time...) to shield the civilian from the fall Brightmane spun in the air and closed his eyes bracing for the sudden impact. Two stories wouldn't hurt him much but it would still leave a bruise; probably dislocate or break something too.

Sure as everything the ground rushed up to embrace the pair of ponies. Brightmane thumped into the soft earth and let out of slight cry as he felt his shoulder pop out of its socket, his spine twinge and his ribs crack...

The last thing Brightmane felt before passing out was being pulled away from the fire which roared and spat it's rage of being cheated of its victims at him, hearing the sound of the house collapsing and hearing Starbow mutter something about paperwork...

--------- Mylorian Cultist Camp North of Canterlot ---------

The camp was a hive of activity. Carts wheeled to and fro laden with supplies looted from the ambush as well as new equipment which had arrived from the masked pegasus who supplied all their weapons. These new carts contained large tubes and metal tripods; Thorsten had no clue as to what their purpose was.

Cultists dressed in dark purple robes moved around the camp in ritual procession. Seven priests, one for each god of the dark, chanted prayers to their dedicated god while a procession of other cultists trailed behind. Thorsten's own robes were back in his pack, saved for ceremonial use; it was to his relief that Babylon ignored the chanting crowd and continued towards the Elder's tent.

The Elder was an ancient man, wise in the ways of war, politics and most important of all; the seven gods. He guided the entire cult on their path towards the dark. The old stallion had purple dyed hair with a grey mane and beard which sharply contrasted the dark hue. He wore robes of the darkest black embodied with gold and silver thread threaded in patterns of chaos, destruction and decay.

Thorsten and Babylon bowed to him as they entered his tent. The Elder nodded to his two guards; tough stallions dressed in a similar black robe but with scale mail of a purple stained Malaphite worn over the top, who left the tent at their masters signal. In the corner of the tent was a large object covered in a canvas dust sheet. On the table lay strange objects that looked like metal cylinders with cones on top - like oversized, menacing fireworks .

"Greetings upon you brother and trusted initiate." The Elder looked Thorsten straight in the eye. The Elder's eyes were completely white. "I have kept the meaning of our meeting secret for good reason. I have a job for you two that is of utmost importance." The old pony shuffled around the table then looked at Babylon. He tapped his hoof on the table "sister, I trust you know of these?"

"Yes master."

"Then explain to the young initiate what these are, I trust a young farming colt will have no clue on weapons of war..."

Babylon turned to Thorsten "these things are called rockets. They're a bit like fireworks apart from the fact they're designed to kill. These particular ones look fresh from a Mylorian factory; you see the Mylorian military used them in the five day boarder war with Equestria. They're designed to shoot down airships, nice fat targets."

The Elder nodded his head "I'm surprised by your knowledge brother, how do you come to know such things?"

"I fought in the five day war, operated these myself."

"As I thought, so I suppose you'll understand this" the Elder drew the canvas cover off the object that was stored at the back of the tent. It was a small, squat, cart like thing with two large wheels and six bronze tubes arranged round a central mounting. The whole thing was inlaid with bronze and silver metal work and at its heart were cogs and springs that were connected to the central mount.

"I have seen those indeed: Mylorian Hell Guns. You see Thorsten, the rockets are loaded into each of those cylinders and the cogs are used to aim it. The whole thing is built to be receptive to magic so unicorns like me can fire them with deadly accuracy without even needing to touch it. " Babylon turned from Thorsten "but Elder, what are these for?"

"The question that I summoned you here to talk about. You two will join a small party of my most devoted initates and taking this new equipment to strike at our true enemy's heart."

"We're going to attack our own parliament over in Corthon?" Thorsten finally spoke up, but was unhappy to receive a raised eyebrow from Babylon and a slight sigh and shake of the head from the Elder.

"Initiate, the only way we can truly serve the gods is by taking power in the parliament. This plan will insure that. You see, I have been working on getting a puppet prime minister, that'll support the cult, into power. Let's just say, we have to burn some bridges to make new ones you see..."

"That makes no sense; how will burning bridges help our cause?" Thorsten was now very confused.

"It's a metaphor for destroying relationships and we're going for the big one." The Elder said flatly.

"We're going for Equestria; Canterlot I presume..." Babylon said in a low tone.

"Our relationship with Equestria is the keystone in our government, why else does the parliament persecute us so? It's because the damn sun princess fears us and fears her old adversaries and pressures our own people into fighting one another." The Elder strolled over to a small drinks cabinet. He spoke again pouring three small glasses of cider "If you can stir up old hatred then we can use that to our advantage." He handed the glasses to Babylon and Thorsten respectively, before picking up his own, taking a sip and then toasting "to Equestria...".

--------- Misty Mount Airspace ---------

Mormont's ship slid out of a cloud bank a good hundred meters or so above the blockade. Still over a thousand meters to go before they reached it lengthways but close nonetheless. Painted a deep shade of blue with white stripes and showing the colours of the EETC the ship was the very image of one of the companies courier ships.

The sky above the Misty Mount port was dotted with airships of varying sizes. Big hulks from Crystal Spire, sleek hulled frigates from Cloudsdale and gaudily painted Canterlot cruisers - all showing the colours of Celetia's royal air fleet. They serenely slid round the mountaintop city's terraced residential districts and busy factory sectors. Piers made of steel and old wood jutted off the sheer cliff face crowded by trade ships, pleasure blimps and private racing frigates. Most showing heraldry of at least a score of famous trading guilds, several wannabe racing teams and maybe five or six of the wealthy, upper-class houses from Canterlot. A suspicious few remained without identification...

As "The Good Sir" closed distance with the city a frigate broke off patrol and headed to intercept the intrepid pirates. The ship sped quickly across the several hundred or so meters that separated Mormont from his target; the general consensus among the crew was that it was the fastest frigate they'd laid eyes on.

"So how do you want to play this captain?" A pegasus named Crosswing, the ship's bosun, asked Mormont.

"Like we own the place. I know these Royal Military types - this'll work." The suit clad pony nodded, though it seemed to be in agreement to himself (a tad odd if you ask anypony).

Wood squeaked as the two ships ground together and an officer, resplendent in blue and gold, hopped onto "The Good Sir's" deck - a glance of disdain that didn't go unnoticed by the crew gracing the ponies features. He trotted forward towards the small group of airponies who'd gathered to meet him looking at each one with suspicion and malice "I am Second Mate Meio of "The Strom Bolt" - which of you is this ship's captain?"

"Well my good sir, that'd be me" Mormont took a step towards the soldier "and I'm Captain Mormont of the East Equestria Trading ship "The Good Sir" and I'm here to assess the blockade and report back to the board." he stated matching the officers stern gaze. Raising a hoof and pointing at the blockade past the officers shoulder the bold pony continued "I see multiple flaws in the execution of the blockade and it definitely is in breach of standard protocol - it isn't looking good for you military types." he went on nonchalantly "I'd like to be taken straight to the commander of this blockade."

Meio just stood still; a disappointed, yet completely unconvinced look, look on his face. "Captain Mormont, you wouldn't be the first ship to attempt to break the blockade by pretending to be with the EETC and sadly I doubt you'll be the last. Now if you'd be so kind as to save us some time and...er..." The blue jacketed pony took the papers being held out to him. Setting it on a barrel he flicked through the pages, each page the look of shock and confusion grew greater. Eventually he turned back to a very smug looking Captain Mormont. "For the record I still don't believe you, but since it isn't up to me..."

"I'll be expecting a letter from your commander giving me, my ship and crew the permission to observe the blockade as well as interview anypony - military or otherwise - regarding the blockade; sound fair?" Giving them no answer the officer glowered at the Captain before turning and jumping back onto his own ship. Everyone watched at the frigate slid gracefully away from "The Good Sir", as soon as it was out of ear shot the gathered crew breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Playing it a little gung ho Captain?" Crosswing asked

"You may say 'gung ho', Crosswing, but I say confident." The smug pony replied.

"I'd say arrogant if you ask me, and that's just me being polite." A very sombre looking Beeter spoke.

"Ah Beets, your brilliant sense of humour never ceases to amaze me" Mormont energetically bounced over to his 'boring' first mate "we're close to being one of the first pirates to break an Equestrian blockade and you're standing there all sad like!"

"First, I think you'll find that Equestrian blockades have been run since they were implemented. Second, you still haven't told us the full plan, for all I know you plan to have us fly into Myloria or something like that once we're done!" Beeter joked.

"Why my dear Beets, that is exactly the plan!"

"Wait... WHAT! You're kidding... right?!"

"Calm down Beets, only through the mountain range that separates our two countries; perfectly safe."

Crosswing tapped Mormont on his shoulder "Err.. Captain, sorry if I butt in but... aren't those ranges filled with griffins... aggressive ones?"

"Yeah and not to mention the fact that going through those mountains means coming within wing-flight distance of Canterlot."

"Ahhh... are the 'ikcle 'wickle fillies scared of some big angry birds and a few shiny toy soldiers?" Mormont asked patronisingly "it's either that or fighting our way out of a blockade so how about we trust my plan and enjoy our success hmm...?"

Beeter turned and walked away mumbling angrily under his breath "The last time you said that we had a larger ship..."

----- An author's note -----

Well this is my second chapter (and thus second attempt) at writing. It's taken a while due to IRL stuff and because my ideas are all messed up but it's here. I'm not massively happy with it but I think I'm getting the hang of writing and redrafting now so hopefully (fingers-crossed) chapter 3 will be good.

As usual C&C is greatly welcomed.

Thanks for reading!