(1: Moonshadow)
The Crystal Empire. A shining beacon of solace in the hostile, frozen wasteland beyond the northern border of Equestria. Miles upon miles of hilly tundra to one side, towering mountains of rock to the other. Were it not for the dreams of a once nobel king, civilization would have been unthinkable.
What little did survive outside of the empire's magic dome would find no friendship here; only monstrous brutes wherever shelter could be found.
As vicious winds of a howled across the land, a lone equine figure fled from the snowstorm, dressed only in a black cloak to shield him from the elements. Finding shelter within a high cave, it didn't take him long to stumble across the locals. A pair of hulking bipedal figures stepped out of the darkness to greet him. From their long, protruding tusks and bulbous noses, he recognized the creatures to be trolls.
“Little pony far from home,” the first troll slurred, as if mocking the common tongue with each syllable.
“Perhaps pony just lost?” the other troll pondered aloud.
“Little pony stupid, more like it,” the first troll grinned. “This be no place for ponies like you. Best be runnin' home now. Ya wouldn't want to be hurt, would ya?”
The pony spared the brutes a glance, but otherwise payed no heed to such thinly veiled threats. “I have business with your mage,” he said, his voice husky, yet calm voice. “Please, take me to him.”
The first troll narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth. “What could little pony want with the Shaman?”
“That is not of your concern,” the pony said, his voice void of emotion. “But it will be to your benefit.”
“Stand down, you two.” The new voice was somewhat more eloquent than the first two, but still carried the unmistakable lisp of troll speak. “He tells the truth. He comes to help us.”
“You sure, boss?” the second troll asked, looking down at the Shaman. He was much skinnier than his guards, holding a staff made from pony bones in his frail, four-fingered hand. “Since when do ponies help trolls? This don't feel right.”
“Your concern is noted, big one,” the pony answered, lowering the hood of his cloak to reveal a short, tattered, mane; midnight blue in colour, and draped over an unusually long horn. “However, the only ones to fear me are those who will not submit.”
A flash of magic sparked from the unicorn's horn, and suddenly the trolls were gasping for air. They looked down at their hands, only to see their flesh degrading at an accelerated rate. They tried to scream, but nothing came out, their eyes rolling back into their heads as they fell limp. Their bones shattered as they hit the ground.
Kneeling before the troll's withered bodies, the unicorn lowered his horn and began to weave a new spell which, upon casting, opened up a third eye in the centre of his forehead. Rising up from the bodies like smoke from a flame, raw magic flowed around his horn and into his third eye, draining his victims' magic until they crumbled to dust.
“An impressive skill if I ever did see one,” the shaman commented, sifting the body guards' ashes through his fingers. “Somethin' ya could've easily done to me. So why didn't ya?”
“Oh, it is quite simple,” the unicorn said, gesturing towards a dozen equine figures marching into the cave. “My name is Moonshadow. What if I told you that my powers could bring the Crystal Empire to its knees?”