//------------------------------// // 31 - The Dark Below // Story: Age of Kings // by A bag of plums //------------------------------// Emerald Edge sat above Foxtrot as she stared out at the small town of Talamhstead, just below her in a little valley beside an equally small pond. The sun was high in the sky now, signalling it to be noon time. They had traveled at least a day and a half now and they still had to proceed down into the valley. “Well, looks like we have almost made it. Let us go,” Emerald called back to her companion. Sir Boercival, who trotted in atop his horse, Longstride, let out a little grunt and nodded his head. The two Knights of the Round Table had been assigned by King Dawn Saber to look into druid presence here in Talamhstead. Emerald didn’t know what they were up to this time, but she knew that if they were up to no good, then she and Sir Boercival were going to stop them. The remainder of the journey was straightforward, with both of them proceeding down the valley path, soon arriving at the edge of the town, with the sun barely moving in the sky. “Ahhh, we’re finally here,” Emerald said, stretching her arms in the saddle. It had been a long ride to Talamhstead and the former pegasus was looking forward to getting off her horse and having a rest. Sir Boercival, on the other hand, looked as well-composed as ever, armor gleaming and not betraying any fatigue he might have been harboring. The town of Talamhstead was a settlement that relied a lot on agriculture, and it showed. Vineyards and wheat fields dotted the lush valley, and farmers went about their work planting and harvesting their crops. The two guardsmen posted at the front gates stood at attention as the two knights rode into town. “Hold!” the guard on the right barked. “Who are you and what is your business in Talamhstead?” “My good man,” Boercival said, looking down with his piercing yellow eyes at the guard. This was the most Emerald had ever heard the knight speak. “We are Knights of the Round Table, of your king Dawn Saber’s court. He has sent us here to ensure the safety of your village.” “Oh, I see, sir knight. Well, you will want to speak to the mayor of Talamhstead. He lives in the keep at the far end of town, you can’t miss it. And if you’re looking for a bite to eat, the inn is just to the east of the market.” “Thank you,” Sir Boercival said serenely and urged his horse forward, with Emerald following suit. “This is the most I have ever heard from your mouth, Sir Boercival.” Emerald sped Foxtrot up to walk beside him and Longstride. “So you are capable of longer speech.” “If the need arises, Lady Emerald.” Sir Boercival stated simply and said no more for the rest of their journey to the mayor’s abode. The mayor’s home was a tall, imposing structure made of stone and mortar, and it stood on a small hill all by itself, perched there watching the rest of the town like a hawk. The two knights rode their horses up the incline, Emerald wondering what the mayor would be like. Would he be like the former Sheriff of Trottingham, or someone who actually cared about his people? Judging by how prosperous the town was, Emerald was more inclined to think the latter. Tying their horses to a hitching post that was conveniently located next to the keep’s entrance, Emerald followed behind Sir Boercival as he walked up to the tall wooden door, knocking on it with an armored fist three times. After about half a minute, the a small slot in the door slid open and a pale, bearded face was seen. “Yes? What is your business with the mayor of Talamhstead?” “Um, we are Knights of the Round Table,” Emerald was the one to say this time. “We have been set by his majesty, King Dawn Saber. We have heard you have trouble from the druids?” “Oh, it’s you people. We got a message from Canterlot a week ago that the king would be sending someone to help us get deal with them. Let me get the mayor.” The small slot slammed shut and there was the sound of running footsteps. A minute or two later, the sound of footsteps returned, and the keep doors were pushed open to reveal a man of medium height, dressed in a shirt of chainmail with a tunic over it, and fine leggings that ended in a well worn but spotless pair of boots. “So you are the knights that his majesty was sending our way.” He looked Emerald up and down. “I did not realize they had a lady knight among their number. Welcome to Talamhstead, I am the mayor of this town. I’d invite you in for a drink, but these druids have become a real problem.” “Anything you can tell us about them would be of great help,” Emerald said, waiting expectantly. The mayor ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “The druids had been spotted wandering the nearby Roaman ruins a week ago.” “Roaman… Roam? You mean the Roaman empire?” Emerald recalled tales of the ancient civilization, with their conquest spanning across much of Equestria back in the old days. “I see you have studied,” the mayor said approvingly. “Anyway, the druids keep creeping around the ruins and they have grabbed some of our townsfolk. It’s not safe to go out there and tend to the fields while they’re out there, so can you do something about them? I don’t think the guards here quite cut it, if you know what I mean.” Boervical looked out over the wall that surrounded Talamhstead and pointed. Emerald followed his finger, spotting just the tip of an old stone structure, covered in moss and plantation. “Those ruins over there?” The mayor nodded. “Those ones. It’s always been a little too close to the town for comfort, as some of the villagers think it’s haunted, but now with the druids, there are more than just ghosts to worry about.” “Have no fear, mayor, we will deal with this problem.” Sir Boercival planted a fist on his chest and bowed slightly. “Let us be off, Lady Emerald. Daylight is wasting.” Emerald nodded to the mayor as well as both of them turned and headed back towards the town’s gates. “Ghostly ruins of the Roaman Empire, Sir Boercival?” Emerald breathed in. “I must say, I have never dealt with spectres before.” “There are no such things as ghosts,” Boercival said primly. “It is all just superstition.” “Some of your fellow knights would beg to differ. I mean, we have a tower of magicians, why not ghosts?” “It is a matter of principle,” Borecival replied. “In all my years as a Knight of the Round Table, I have yet to encounter a real spirit. Trolls, bandits, serpents, mages, those are real. But I do not believe in ghosts.” Emerald was still mildly surprised. Most of her peers at the Round Table believed in ghosts, or at the very least, some kind of spirits. She had assumed that Boercival would be the same, but the untalkative knight’s admission seemed to say otherwise. Even Sir Morn believes in spirits. The guards at the gate were happy enough to step aside as Emerald and Boercival rode out of Talamhstead, turning to the right to follow the west wall. Just around the corner, Emerald could already see what was left of the ancient empire’s structure. There were but three pillars standing by a dark entrance, each of them broken and shattered, connecting to nothing above. The entrance itself seemed to lead underground, disappearing into the darkness of a sizeable mound of grass and dirt. Part of the ruins’ stone was still visible above the mound, leading upwards to a triangular roof, covered in vines and moss, the same roof Emerald could see from within Talamhstead. “So this is it. The ruins…” Emerald looked on as Foxtrot trotted forward. “These are all that remain of a once proud civilization.” Sir Boercival returned to saying nothing, instead, giving Emerald a nod in agreement. With the sun up in the sky above them, the dark tunnel ahead was a sharp contrast with Emerald’s current surroundings. Emerald almost didn’t want to leave the warmth of the sun, but she knew she would have to. It wouldn’t be her first time entering a dark and cold hole. As the royal spymaster, she had to enter her fair share of dark places, whether it was to spy on secret gatherings or to steal information from an enemy of Equestria. “Here we are…” Emerald swung herself off her horse as Sir Boercival did the same. The knight nodded and gave Longstride’s side a pat. “I wonder what they are doing down there, those druids.” Emerald tried to peer into the darkness down a stone staircase. “Not more human sacrifices, I hope.” “The mayor did say they have taken some of the townsfolk.” Sir Boercival unhooked his helmet from his horse’s pack and put it on. “If any are still living, we shall rescue them. Are you ready, my lady?” “As ready as I’ll be, sir knight.” Emerald pulled her grey hood down over her eyes. “Then let us go into the dark below.” Sir Boercival drew his sword. Laeveteinn was of a darker steel than Emerald’s Amore, and much longer, its white gems of moonstone glinting in the sunlight as it left its sheath. “I shall lead, Lady Emerald. Let us see what we find down there.” Leaving the daylight behind, the two knights cautiously made their way down into the darkness. However, it didn’t stay dark for long. All along the hallway that they found themselves in were dotted with braziers and torches on the walls, likely lit by the druids themselves. At least this meant that they were going in the right direction. By now, Emerald had also drawn her blade, ready for battle. These druids were not known to take too kindly to uninvited guests, especially if they had weapons. They also came across some barrels filled with food, ranging from cheese to stale bread to salted meats. These were either the druids’ own supply for them to last down here, or these were supplies plundered from Talamhstead. Emerald sighed. There wasn’t a single vegetable to be seen. Continuing down into the darkness, Emerald and Boercival found another flight of steps, lined with more braziers of fire on the sides, though they continued down way past the lit braziers, once more into the dark. “How far down do these ruins go?” Emerald whispered, her quiet voice bouncing off on the walls around her. Boercival shrugged, keeping to the walls and trying to make as little noise as possible, not an easy thing to do when covered in metal armor, but somehow the knights managed to stay mostly silent. They continued on until they heard a faint trickling sound, like running water. Boercival held up a fist, stopping them. The knight peered around the corner before motioning to Emerald that it was safe to proceed. The had come across some kind of freshwater spring, the clear water running out of a large fountain and down through the cracks, deeper into the ruins. Emerald dipped a finger into the spring and brought it to her nose. Then she gave it a tentative lick. “It’s clean!” Sir Boercival lifted a finger to his helmet, where his mouth was supposed to be. “Not so loud, Lady Emerald. As for the water, this is likely coming from a natural spring. Perhaps that is why the ancient Roamans built this place here.” “And it makes this a good place for the druids to make camp. With food and a steady source of water…” Emerald looked down the stone hallway. “With the amount of food further up and this water… They must have planned to be here a long time. But why?” Boercival suddenly stiffened, then gestured violently to Emerald. “Someone is coming. We must hide.” The pair quietly but quickly made their way over to a wide pillar and got behind it. There was some fallen masonry next to the pillar that made for a excellent place to squat while watching for whoever might be coming. Before long, footsteps could be heard, followed by the sound of muffled voices talking. A faint glow grew from far to the right side of the room. A wooden trapdoor was lifted and a trio of robed figures climbed into view, the lead one holding a bright oil lantern. “... preparations are coming on very well. How long until the next stage?” “It will not be long now. We just need sunlight,” another druid said. “That’s the hardest part,” the third figure said. “The vines grow so deep in the ruins, that not even the tiniest bit of sunlight can make it through. The Roamans really wanted to make sure no one could use them.” Emerald Edge shared a glance with Sir Boercival. Sunlight… Vines… The druids were looking to do something, but Emerald still didn’t understand what they were up to. Were they trying to open an entrance covered with vines? If so, why did they need sunlight? What vines would move with sunlight? Just what are you druids looking for down here…? “So, Lady Emerald,” Boercival whispered to his partner. “What do we do? Think we should take them?” Emerald shook her head. “Best to let them pass,” she replied as quietly as she could. “Their guard will be down that way.” Boercival turned back and watched the druids head down the hallway, then nodded his head. The druids continued ahead, then disappeared up the stairs that Emerald and Boercival had come from, their footsteps still echoing behind them. That made the former pegasus wonder just how loud their greaves were in this dark and lonely place. At least they haven’t been heard yet. There was a chittering of bats as they flew overhead. Emerald watched as one flew particularly close and was reminded of how back in Equestria, fruit bats were used to improve apple harvests. Once Emerald was sure the druids were gone, she stood up and dusted herself down. “Well, I do not know what they’re up to,” she said as she loosened her sword in its sheath. “But it can’t be good. Let’s go deeper and see if we can learn anything more.” The male knight nodded and unsheathed Laevateinn. Emerald looked at his blade again and marveled at its craftsmanship, likely made by Honor Proof as well, though it held an interesting name. It sounded more like a name one would have from the Frozen North, or at least, the Frozen North of Equestria. “We will stop these druids today.” Sir Boercival pointed Laevateinn’s tip down at the trapdoor lit with more braziers. “Onward, Lady Emerald.” The hallway led to a dead end, blocked off by a solid rocky wall. The only way down seemed to be the trapdoor below their feet. “I wonder where this leads…” Boercival bent down. The two of them raised the trapdoor and descended down into the dark keeping an eye out for anyone else who might be coming along. The wooden ladder Emerald clambered down creaked and felt like it was about to break with every step, but thankfully, it held out all the way to the bottom. The passage below was less well lit, with only torches on the walls placed sparingly, leaving deep pools of shadow between them. There was a strange smell in the air, like that of vegetation, and Emerald knew that smell well. “Hmm…” Boercival peeled one of the torches off its holder, holding it far in front of himself. “Come, Lady Emerald. This will do just nicely.” “Why, this is really the most I have ever heard you speak in a day, Sir Boercival.” Emerald followed behind him, keeping close to his light source. “May I ask, who do you not speak much?” “Brevity is the soul of wit,” Boercival replied, peering ahead into the gloom. “I prefer to talk little and say more, instead of talking a lot and saying little.” “Wise words, Sir Boercival,” Emerald said as they rounded a corner at the end of the row of torches, only to come to another staircase carved of stone. “Expected of an esteemed Knight of the Round Table. So, how long have you been one, sir knight? A Knight of the Round Table.” “I have been one for at least fifteen years now, my lady. I had left my town long ago when I witnessed the knights protecting my people from bandits. Such honor and such valor, they radiated. I had traveled straight to Canterlot that week and began my training to become a knight. Little did I know the king would choose me to be one of the Knights of the Round Table. My mother would be proud to know where I am today.” “Your mother, is she…” Emerald didn’t know a better way to put it. “She is no longer with us, yes.” The spymaster couldn’t see his expression, but she figured he was making one of disappointment. “She was killed in one of the bandit raids. She died before I could become a knight in King Dawn Saber’s court.” “Oh. I’m sorry,” Emerald said, feeling a bit awkward. “I don’t suppose it matters now,” Boercival shrugged. “Now come, we must be more stealthy, or we will be heard.” “I agree, but a knight being stealthy? I know Sir Morn would be against that. I on the other hoof, um, hand, have no qualms about sneaking around.” “A knight must act in the best interests of the people,” Boercival said primly. “Before we engage a foe, it is more prudent to make sure the villagers are alright. I recall the mayor telling us that some of them had been taken. If we charge in now, the civilians’ lives may be endangered.” Emerald gripped the edge of her hood and pulled it a little bit lower. “Wise words once more, Sir Boercival. I agree with this plan.” Continuing as silently as they could down the stairs, Emerald began to wonder just how large these ruins were. They had entered down a trapdoor, and the area was still fairly large. In her experience, trapdoors were usually put there to hide something from the common pony, like smuggled goods or treasures. That got her thinking as to what was down here that the Roamans had to build such an extensive secret area for. The bottom of the stairs ended out into a large domed area with a single hallway at the other end, leading out into more darkness, while the dome itself had six braziers above, lighting the area. The floor here was tiled with red patterns and a few sculptures of humans stood at the sides, most of them positioned in contemplative poses, like they were thinking of something. Then to the left, they spotted them, humans who had their arms and legs tied up and cloth around their mouths. To their right stood a group of three more druids, examining some of their magical pouches on a stone table. “We have to save them…” Emerald whispered, keeping her voice low. “There are but three druids.” Sir Boercival pointed at each of them with his sword. “But they are close to the captured townsfolk. It will not be hard for them to hold one at knifepoint, Lady Emerald. Perhaps this is where your… shadow tactics will be more valuable, at least until they are fewer.” “Hmm…” Emerald narrowed her eyes. “There is not enough cover and shadow in this room. They will surely see me.” Boercival nodded his head, his expression invisible under his helmet. “Then we will have to make this quick. I shall get the one on the furthest right. You are faster than I, my lady. Do you think you can take the other two?” “Yes.” Emerald readied Amore in her hand. “If we move quick enough, they should not think to take a hostage in that time. We must have no pauses or hesitation.” “Sounds easy enough. I am ready.” The knight held Laevateinn in both his hands, and brought his left foot in front of his right. “Wait,” Emerald said. Her hands probed the stone floor beneath them and returned with a small chunk of masonry. “Let’s see if this works.” Cocking her arm back, she threw the stone as far as she could, into a shadowed section of the room where it impacted with a clatter. “What was that?” one of the druids asked, looking around. “What was what?” another druid said. “I heard it too,” the third druid vocalized. “Came from over there.” When they moved off in the direction of her distraction, Emerald tapped Sir Boercival on the arm and nodded. “Now.” Still creeping along the edges of the room, the two knights circled around and found the prisoners. This distraction won’t last long, Emerald thought. I still don’t know how we’re supposed to get everyone out safely. Boercival raised his sword, but Emerald waved at him to lower it. “No offense, Sir Boercival, but such a blade is unsuited for cutting ropes. Let me.” Extending a hidden blade, she was just about the cut the bonds of the first villager when suddenly, one of the druids came back with a lantern. He spotted Emerald almost immediately, and the two of them stared at each other for a few seconds. “Uh…” the druid said, seemingly unsure of what to do. Emerald gave him an awkward smile. “Hello.” Then she lunged forward and stabbed him in the throat with her extended hidden blade. Blood sprayed from the wound, a few stray droplets settling on Emerald’s face. As the body fell to the floor, the thump alerted the other two druids, who wheeled around to see what had happened. Emerald drew her sword and hurled it like a javelin, impaling one of the druids in the chest up to the hilt. As he fell, Emerald quickly ran along to a giant pillar right in the middle of the room, ducking behind it just as the third druid threw a handful of red dust at her. On contact, the dust began to melt the pillar and a sizeable portion of the floor, sending up smoke as it ate away at the stone. “Do you know who I am?” the druid shouted, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. “I am the right hand of Nimhe! Foolish knight, you think that one of you is enough? Prepare to d-” The druid’s voice was suddenly cut off as the blade of a sword sprouted from this chest. From behind, Sir Boercival twisted his sword and kicked the dead druid off onto the floor. “Surprise, Oedipus.” “Nice work, Sir Boercival.” Emerald bent down and retrieved Amore from the dead druid, wiping the blade clean on the druid’s robe. “But that last druid mentioned Nimhe. I thought she was arrested along with Duchan?” “Perhaps not.” Boercival sheathed his sword and went back to help untie the townsfolk. “If she is still out there, then maybe she is the one leading them in Duchan’s absence.” Emerald activated her hidden blades again and cut through the townsfolks’ bonds, freeing them and allowing them to remove their mouth gags. “Oh, thank you! You have saved us!” one woman cried out and gripped both of Emerald’s arms. “I thought they were going to sacrifice us!” “Probably, yes,” Boercival said, using the tip of his sword to pick up a druid bag and put it into a burning brazier. The other townsfolk behind her began to clamour in agreement. “The way out is that way.” Emerald pointed to the stairs they had come from. “But be careful. There were three more druids up there.” “Lady Emerald,” Boercival called. “There is another passage over here. One of us should escort the villagers back up to the surface, then we can continue our quest.” “I shall do it,” Emerald volunteered. “Come, let us go.” The journey up to the surface was a lot faster than the descent, now that she didn’t have to be as careful. Emerald kept Amore drawn and in front of her, but she saw no druids all the way up to the entrance. “Now go home,” Emerald instructed the townsfolk. “And tell the mayor to keep everyone inside the walls until we sort this out, yes?” “Thank you again, lady knight! We shall remember your deeds always!” And then they were off, rushing back to Talamhstead as quickly as they could. Emerald watched them go until they disappeared around the town’s wall before she made her way back down into the ruins. She found Sir Boercival back in the round room. All the bodies had been cleared away to the side, but there were still bloodstains on the floor, along with the melted hole “Ah, good. You have returned. Now let us continue. Quietly.” Emerald and Boercival crept along the passage, swords drawn but kept low to avoid reflecting any stray light. It wasn’t long before they ran into something new. “Hmm,” the male knight pondered. “They appear to have set up some kind of scaffolding down here.” The wooden supports stood on both sides of the walkway, increasing in height and complexity as they continued downwards. After about ten more minutes of walking, the corridor opened up into a large room. Torches dotted the circular walls, and scaffolding stretched high up into the darkness overhead. However, it was not this that caught the two knights’ attention. The room was home to a bowl-like depression that was partially full of water. There was a raised platform in the middle of the water, and from there sprouted a thicket of thick, thorny vines. “What is this? A plant?” Sir Boercival walked to the water’s edge. “That is what it seems to be,” Emerald said, bending down to get a closer look. The vines were easily as thick as her forearm, spiralling out from the center pedestal and into the water. However, they seemed to be sickly and ill, for the vines back on the island were shrivelled and colorless. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Emerald admitted, standing back up. “But it seems to be the main focus of the druid project down here. Look at all the tools and diagrams.” Indeed, on nearby tables, there were cuttings of the vine laid out and various bladed tools that Emerald had seen the castle gardeners use before. There were also scrolls with pictures of the vines on them, seemingly written in old Roaman. “Plunderseed Vines,” Boercival read. “A potente magickal elemente plante withe many darke uses.” “What.” Emerald said flatly. She couldn’t understand the text on the scroll, but apparently Boercival could. “Old Roaman,” Boercival explained. “It sounds like that. I shall spare you the rest of the reading, but apparently these vines have some alchemical use that is rather dangerous.” “Dangerous? How?” “Whoever wrote the scroll failed to say. Perhaps it was omitted so that if the vines were discovered, they would not know what to do with it.” In all her journeys, Emerald had never encountered anything like a dangerous plant. Poison Joke perhaps, but that wasn’t actually dangerous. “There’s a note down here,” Boercival continued, looking down at the scroll. “It would seem that the druids have figured out how to restore the vines. Sunlight seems to be the key.” He looked up. “That explains the scaffolding.” “You mean the druids built all this?” Emerald looked up at the ceiling. Were they trying to reach the top to break a hole through the ceiling? And what if the roof came crashing down on them instead of allowing sunlight to come in? “Tis the only reasonable explanation. It is not as if the centuries old Roamans would have put this up.” “And they would have to carefully dig a hole through. We are deep underground. One wrong move could collapse the whole place around us.” “Yes. I imagine these vines will have properties the druids will use to kill innocent people.” Sir Boercival crushed the scroll in his hand. “We cannot allow this.” Emerald was about to agree, but then her ears picked up something. A single footstep behind them, followed by the sound of ruffling cloth. “Watch out!” At the last minute, she threw herself and Sir Boercival to the side, just dodging a handful of red rust as it landed on the table they were standing next to. With a hiss, the scrolls and wood began to melt away, dissolving into nothing. “You were not supposed to avoid that.” Emerald turned to see a wizened druid behind them, flanked by four barbarians and two other druids by his side. In his gloved hand was a pouch of his magical dust, and his other hand was in the process of retrieving more dust. Sir Boercival was quick in getting up, his sword tip already pointed for the enemy. “Druids, we have come to stop your evil deeds. Surrender now, and you will live. The choice is yours, but you shall not harvest these vines this day.” “Harvest?” The main druid began to laugh as the barbarians stepped forward, their crude weapons drawn. “Do you think we have come all this way to harvest the plunderseed? You will not leave here alive. Get them!” The barbarians ran at Boercival and Emerald, who raised their swords in preparation to fight. A tall barbarian with long red hair was the first to reach them, raising his axe to bring it crashing down onto Boercival’s head. However, the knight knew that his foe would throw himself off balance with such a mighty high-to-low chop, and simply sidestepped before bringing his moonstone-encrusted blade around to slice at the barbarian’s side. Laevateinn struck true and red blood sprayed into the air, its owner groaning and grabbing at his wound. Emerald hopped back, avoiding a stroke from another barbarian’s sword, parrying it and holding it down with her right hand. With her left, she extended the hidden blade and punched the barbarian in the face, the hidden blade cutting a gash in her opponent’s cheek. The barbarian roared in pain and recoiled. However, the knights’ advantage didn’t last long. The druids’ warriors split up, two going after each knight, as well as one druid each. Boercival backpedaled, his sword flashing high and low, but unable to concentrate on a single enemy long enough to deliver a killing blow. Emerald ducked under a sword swipe, then did a backflip to avoid a fistful of red powder. Landing back on her feet, she found herself next to a brazier. Kicking it over, she sent a cascade of red hot coals rolling toward the two barbarians who were fighting her. Neither of them was wearing footwear, and they yelped as the coals burned their soles, hanging back. Meanwhile, Boercival was losing ground. The knight was pushed up against the scaffolding, with two barbarians and a druid closing in. The nearest barbarian swung his metal-capped club at the knight, who had no more room to dodge. The club smacked into his helmet, which rang like a gong. Disoriented, Boercival staggered to the right, reaching out with a hand for support. The second barbarian, still bleeding from his side, chopped at Boercival with his axe. The dazed knight’s foot caught on the piece of rubble and he fell, the axe whistling harmlessly over his head and biting deep into the wooden scaffolding. A faint cracking noise came from overhead, and small bits of stone came clattering down. The druid and the barbarian with the club looked up, giving Boercival a chance to jump to his feet and stab Laevateinn into the neck of the barbarian who had been trying to dislodge his axe from the wood. The man crumpled to the floor in a heap. The lead druid, who had been lurking at the rear, shrieked when he saw the warriors fighting around the scaffolding. “Not so close, you fools! Stay away from the supports!” “Ah, of course.” Sir Boercival adjusted his helmet and raised his sword. “Lady Emerald, to me!” Emerald heard her name and nodded, kicking a barbarian in the head before leaping back to join Boercival by the scaffolding. “What is the plan?” she asked, pushing a stray strand of her turquoise hair from her face. “I wonder, with all their work above, what if the scaffolding were to go?” Sir Boercival whispered, getting his stance ready and adjusting his helmet. “Hmm.” Emerald smirked. She liked the way Boercival thought. The barbarians came at them again, swinging their weapons for their necks. Emerald dodged under the first strike, watching with satisfaction as the axe cut into the scaffolding’s wood. Kicking out, the former pegasus felt her greave connect with the man’s gut, then twisting around as he reeled back, Emerald stabbed Amore forward, deflecting another barbarian’s attack for Sir Boercival into the support. The male knight nodded his thanks and slashed Laevateinn skyward, cutting through a barbarian’s chin and at the same time, damaging a part of the support. More dust and debris tumbled down from above, followed by an ominous creaking sound. A chunk of stone fell from high up, crashing down onto a barbarian’s head and knocking him out. Without missing a beat, Boercival drove his sword through another warrior’s neck while he was distracted, following through with a slash at a druid, blood trailing off his blade like ribbons. “Fools! Stop attacking the supports!” the head druid yelled and peeled a dagger from his robes. Emerald remembered these druids enjoyed coating their weapons with poison, so she really didn’t want to get cut by that. Besides him, there was only one other druid and a barbarian left, both of whom hesitated from approaching the two Knights of the Round Table. Just as she was about to charge at the last barbarian, smoke began to fill her nose. Emerald stopped and raised one hand, covering it to the best of her ability. “Fire!” Sir Boercival gently pushed Emerald to the side, further away from the scaffolding. Flames spread across the scaffolding, slowly but steadily engulfing all the wood in its wake. Emerald looked down, spotting the coals she had tipped over earlier. Of course the fire would spread to the wooden scaffolding, she had completely forgotten about it. “Gah, no!” The lead druid raised a hand in front of his face. “Fools! We have made much work above! If the supports break, we will all die down here!” “I am not interested in ‘we’,” Boercival said, pulling his sword back and flourishing it. “Your day is done, villainous druid. Now surrender!” “Never! But we will not die down here too! I will remember this!” The druid shook his fist, then took a few steps back. In a few more seconds, he turned and ran with his companion, leaving the barbarian alone with Emerald and Boercival. “We should go too.” Boercival kept an eye on their last enemy. “Wait.” Bending down, Emerald fished up the pouch from the dead druid. Opening it carefully, Emerald tossed the bag over to the supports, watching as the red dust spilled out and began eating away at more of the wood. With one final crack, a part of the scaffolding gave way, dropping down with an almighty crash, spewing dust and wood across the area. It didn’t take long for the place to start rumbling as loose debris began to fall from the ceiling. “Time to go.” Emerald kept Amore and dashed for the exit. The barbarian moved to block her way, but Emerald dodged past his axe, cutting him in one leg with a hidden blade, only for Boercival to run him through with Laevateinn as he fell to one knee. Both knights didn’t stop, running back out the way they had come from, with Emerald remembering the paths they took. Stones and dust cascaded down around their shoulders, but before they knew it, Emerald and Boercival burst out into the open air, just in time to watch the entire ruin collapse in on itself with a final shuddering crash. “That… was close,” Emerald panted, shaking loose masonry out of her hair. “Indeed it was.” Sir Boercival removed his helmet and wiped sweat from his forehead. By now, the sun had already set in the sky and the moon was out amongst the stars, lighting the night up. “So…” Emerald said after catching her breath. “Problem solved?” “I believe so.” Sir Boercival looked back to the caved-in entrance. “With the vines buried, I think it is safe to say they can no longer access them.” “Great. Why don’t we go tell the mayor? Then we can go back to Canterlot.” “Yes.” The two knights returned to their horses, with Emerald giving Foxtrot an affectionate rub. “I must say, Lady Emerald, you have quite the skill in combat. I see why you were able to defeat even Sir Morn Dread in combat. No normal person can just beat a Knight of the Round Table. And a pack of druids.” “You flatter me, Sir Boercival.” The knight laughed, then put his helmet back on. “Why don’t we go for a celebratory mug of cider once we get back home?” Emerald smiled. “Can’t say no to that.” Further away from Talamhstead, as Emerald and Boercival began their ride back to Canterlot, two druids arrived back at their hidden headquarters, built nicely into the side of a mountain and covered with different kinds of rocks and vegetation, almost masking it unless one were to look close enough. A banner of the Fir Laimhe Liath hung near the top, just within the first entrance. Entering their home, the druids first made their way to the inner workshops, knowing that was where their leader spent the majority of her days. “Nimhe,” the lead druid said, bowing to his superior. “We come bearing both good and bad news. Which would you like first?” Nimhe snorted, busy grinding up a plant with a mortar and pestle. Her hood was down, allowing her green hair to fall down to her waist. “The bad news.” “Uh, well, our work at Talamhstead has been brought to a stop by two Knights of the Round Table. They collapsed the ruins around the plunderseed vines. Digging them out again would take a long time. And a lot of work.” Nimhe’s pestle stopped for a moment, then continued grinding away. “What is the good news?” “We managed to harvest a large bounty of the plunderseed vine seeds. They’re all here in this bag. I would wager that there are at least fifty of them.” The druid deposited the pouch onto the table in front of Nimhe. “So our expedition was not entirely pointless after all,” Nimhe said. “If that’s all, you may go. I have work to do and I’m sure you two do as well.” “Yes, Nimhe.” After the two druids had gone, Nimhe picked up the satchel and picked out a seed. “Yes… these will do nicely. One day, and soon, Canterlot will be ours.”