Dan sighed as he shifted himself into a sitting position, wondering just why and how he was back this time. The great Hero of Gallowmere was a little annoyed that he had been taken from his eternal rest, not to mention the Hall of Heroes. After all he’d earned his due, as far as he was concerned, living up to the legend King Peregrine and the people had built around him. Although it was nice to get away from Imanzi for a little while. He knew he should be thankful that any woman could like him just as a skeleton, especially one as attractive as her, she just came on a little too strong for his tastes.
He hopped onto his feet, his armor clanking as he walked towards the entrance of his crypt, encountering the same two gargoyle heads that he had last time. As he expected both their eyes glowed yellow and one of them spoke up.
“Well, well, well… Sir Daniel Fortesque, the great Hero of Gallowmere, risen once again after being reduced to a forgotten dusty old relic. I’m afraid that if you’re hoping to coast on your old accomplishments you won’t get far. It’s a brand new world out there, but with the same old problems,” the first gargoyle snarked, though with notably less harshness than the first time.
“Hanks fer nah cahlig me ‘ih’ his hime,” Dan replied, folding his arms and rolling his eye.
(Thanks for not calling me "it" this time)
“Now now, leave him alone,” the other gargoyle said. “He’s already proven himself once before, though considering that blot on his record he better damn well should’ve. Now Dan, we’ve got another sorcerer up to some necromantic shenanigans again, but this one’s far worse than Zarok could ever hope to be. Best arm yourself with whatever you can scrounge up, and head on out. You’ve got a long trek if you even hope to breathe a little fresh air. And you’d better step on it, everypony is counting on you.”
“‘Erykony?’” he asked, scratching his skull in confusion.
The first gargoyle chuckled. “You’ll see. Now hurry along Fortesque. And keep your eye out for our more equine counterparts, will you? You’re not going to be getting much assistance otherwise.”
Seeing he wasn’t going to get much else in explanations Dan headed to the armory in the front of his main chamber to gear up, smirking at how much better prepared he’d be this time. He immediately went to Dirk Steadfast’s magic broadsword, it’s blade glowing with a blue hue. It was one of the best things he had received from the Hall of Heroes, not only because it was one of the most powerful weapons but also because it meant he didn’t have to rely on Woden’s broadsword anymore. The less he needed to thank that arrogant jerk the better. He took the sword and scabbard, sheathing the blade and tying them to his waist before moving to Karl Sturnguard’s Magic shield, shining gold with the half and half skull insignia of Gallowmere on it. It had saved his unlife plenty of times and he expected it to do so again.
When he reached down to grab the next item something fell out of his eyes socket, catching his attention. He picked it up gently and held it up to his face, a single earthworm squirming. “Wahl hewo. An hoo ahr oo?” he asked as he gently set it down in his other open palm. The worm just looked back at him. “No naym, huh? Hah abah ‘Mahten’? Do oo lyke at?” The worm nodded back. “Arite. Oo kahn stay here den,” he said before letting the creature crawl back into his eye socket.
(Well hello? And who are you?)(No name, huh? How about "Morten"? Do you like that?) (Alright. You can stay here then.)
With his new travelling companion secure he continued to stock himself up, grabbing Bloodmonath’s Axe. Honestly it was never his favorite, but it was nice to have for how it always came back after he threw it. No one ever expected the return trip and it had cleaved many an enemy in twain. He stored it in that place where all items seemed to go when he wasn't currently using them, the weapon disappearing from sight. He never really understood that part but also wasn’t one to really question something that helped him, figuring it was just something that all heroes got and never really thought to mention. Also, whenever he did think about it, the color green came to mind for some reason. Next was Stayner’s warhammer, by far one of the most useful things he’d ever been given, he was always surprised at how light it felt compared to the damage it dealt. Something told him he’d be needing it soon.
Next was Canny Tim’s most trusted and reliable cross - Oh, no, actually the string broke as soon as he grabbed it. Also, it looked like the mechanism had rusted into place. Such a shame too. Well there was always Ravenhooves’ longbo - Nope, that broke too. Looks like anything that relied on more than just being sharp or heavy didn’t survive the stay. Dan worried that might mean he’d have to reimburse the two somehow until he remembered that they all had their weapons back in the Hall of Heroes despite them also apparently sitting here for who knows how long as well.
He skipped over Imanzi’s spear, it reminded him too much of her unending advances.
The last thing that was left was the Dragon’s Potion, but that unfortunately didn’t seem to be doing too well either, having lost it’s green shimmer. He uncorked the top but all that came out was a sickly black liquid. He didn’t want to take his chances seeing if it worked, but he figured he might as well take it anyway. With luck he’d meet a witch that could fix it, or something. The last thing he stocked up on was his many life bottles, which of course now were all dry and empty. Still, his past experiences had taught him to be prepared.
And of course, he’d used up all of the lightning bolts that Megwynne had lent him. If he knew he’d be on another quest he would’ve asked for more before he got resurrected.
“Ohay Mahten, rerry ho go ahn an advenhure?” he asked? The earthworm poked itself out far enough for him to see it nod. With a skip in his step, and a clank in his armor, he headed for the entrance of his crypt, taking a few heroic strides before stepping on something and tripping, falling flat on his face… skull… skull face. He growled, turning to see what had tripped him up before noticing the golden shine and unmistakable handle of a Chalice of Souls. Without another word, nor any animosity, he picked it up and stored it away in his “Hero’s Pocket” before resuming his stride, paying more attention to the floor this time.
(Okay Morten, ready to go on an adventure?)
He approached the front of his crypt, sealed off by a pile of collapsed stones. He drew the warhammer and with one - I mean two - three, with three mighty swings the stones were cleared to reveal… darkness. Pitch black darkness only illuminated by the many wall torches that still somehow burned in his crypt.
“Hewo?” he called, getting an echo back. Realizing that he wasn’t out of the underground yet, and likely wouldn’t be for a while, he pulled a torch off the wall and headed into the darkness.
Dan knew he should hurry, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the surroundings he had seen. It may have been cramped, but the crystalline walls sparkled and glimmered with a beauty he had not seen since the Crystal Caves back in Gallowmere. Back then he had been forced to take on several demons, but here he actually had a chance to enjoy the scenery. After what felt likes hours of trudging through the twists and turns Dan came across one of the first welcomed sights in the cave: a minecart track. That meant someone had been this way before, and that meant he now had a heading on how to leave. He followed the path, excitedly jogging in the direction of what he hoped was the way out. After a few minutes, however, he screeched to a halt as he stopped in front of a massive crevasse, unable to see the bottom. The mine tracks led over it, wooden supports built to keep it up, continuing further on than he could see even with the assistance of the torch. The wood looked ancient and rotted, and he didn't want to take his chances at just trying to walk across.
Slightly disheartened, Dan turned back but an idea came to him. He hurriedly ran back the way he came, following the track and as he hoped, located an old push cart. He he got on and steadied himself before pumping the lever as hard as he could. He kept this up, gaining as much speed as possible as he raced back towards the gorge. By the time he reached the suspended track the surroundings were speeding by in a blur and the cart sped along the bridge, barely staying on the tracks. Not that it mattered, as it collapsed almost as soon as weight was applied to it, but not so quickly that the cart didn’t make it across first. Dan cheered in triumph, only for him to not notice the end of the track coming up, hitting the stopping block and sent careering forwards. The great Hero of Gallowmere screamed like a little girl as he flew through the air before bouncing off the ground several times, then rolling forwards and falling over the edge of a drop, landing flat on the ground below.
Dan groaned in pain and annoyance as he pushed himself up to his feet, dusting his armor off before continuing on. As he kept walking he noticed that certain paths seemed more smoothed out and less like the crystals had grown whatever way they wished, likely a sign of them being harvested more. With this in mind he followed whichever path looked the smoothest, often following more mine tracks as he did. After a while he began to hear something, the sound of a “clip-clop” against stone. He carefully approached the direction it was coming from, turning the corner to find… a pony. Dan rubbed his eye for a moment, wondering if it was playing tricks on him, and he confirmed that he was indeed looking at a pony. Or, at least, most of one. Part of its face was missing, as was the flesh on its left hind leg and around the stomach, exposing the bone underneath. It also wore a miner’s helmet and a leather vest. The undead equine stopped and then turned to face Dan, staring at him with its blank gaze. Dan stared back and for several seconds an awkward and uncomfortable silence hung in the air, much like when you try to talk to a relative you’ve never seen before at a family reunion.
“Um… hewo?” he said cautiously, waving his hand in greeting. The zompony continued to stare for a few more uncomfortable seconds before turning to trot the way it was going. Curious, Dan followed the creature. It wasn’t long until another joined, also seeming to ignore him and following the same direction. The further he continued the more showed up and within minutes he was being funneled down a path by the moving tide of undead flesh. He noticed that some of them had horns, while others had wings, and some neither. Soon enough they emerged inside a large city, with towering white marble structures and enough gold to fill a king’s treasury. It would likely have been a treat for the eye if the sky hadn’t been blotted out by some kind of smog.
“Hey! Hey you! Over here, you bag of bones!”
Dan turned to see a statue of a pony rearing up on its hind legs some distance away, its eyes glowing a familiar yellow hue. Dane carefully forced his way through the crowd of still moving undead before making it over to the statue. “So, you’re Sir Dan, is it? Heard about you from the old guys downstairs, said you’re the ‘hero’ we should be expecting. Honestly, you don’t look like much to me, but it’s not often the geezers put in a good word for anypony.”
“Wak ih, oo,” Dan warned, huffing as he folded his arms.
(Watch it, you.)
“Well, I suppose you’re what we’ve got now, so I’ll do what I can to bring you up to speed. You’re in the land of Equestria now, in the capital city of Canterlot on the side of Mt. Canter. Apologies for the mess, we’re currently under new management and the old goat likes things dark and foreboding. See that castle over there?” Dan turned to see a large collection of spires and walls that stood out more than the rest. “That’s Canterlot Palace, where Princess Celestia and Princess Luna live. They’re the top mares of this country, although they’re a bit, heh… deposed at the moment.”
“Ery hunny.”
“That’s also where Lord Grogar, the sorcerer that’s responsible for this mess, is staying at the moment. He’s a goat you don’t want to tangle with, and you’re in luck since the spell he cast that brought back your skinny self and the walking meatbags behind you took it out of him, so it should give you the chance you need. Don’t think of taking him on though, you’re not ready no matter how much you think you are. Just find the Princesses and have them give you an idea of what to do next, but be careful because the cityfolk have been made into his servants as well. Not to mention the demons he brought along, and they’re not as stupid as the lot behind you. Do your best to look inconspicuous and then find a way in. Don’t know how you’ll pull that off, though it’ll certainly be funny watching you fail.”
“Hank oo hor ha ringing enhorsement,” Dan rolled his eye.
(Thank you for the ringing endorsement.)
“Right then, off you go. And at least try to make your screw up entertaining,” the statue finished before the lights faded from its eyes.
Dan didn’t see any demons or hypnotized ponies yet, so he took some time to think how he might be able to sneak around without much trouble. After a few moments, he came up with a foolproof plan.
“... Eh up, spot that?” one of the demons asked the other demon looking over the crowd of undead.
(Good sir, do you see what I do?)
“Wich one isit? The bloomin’ skeleton?” the other asked.
(Which one? Do you mean the skeleton perchance?)
“‘Wich one’, o’course the skeleton! Struth!” the other snarked back.
("Which one?" Why of course I am referring to the skeleton!)
“Yeah, right, wot about it?”
(Indeed I do. What exactly are you remarking upon?)
“Just ‘ave a look at ‘im.”
(Well, just observe the fellow)
Dan held his arms out in front of him, walking in stilted motions and moaning loudly.
“Bit dramatic, right, ain’t ‘e?”
(Quite the one for dramatics, wouldn't you say?)
“Yeah, right he is. Real sad, ‘ave at a look at ‘im tryin’ so ‘ard ter fit in,” the other agreed.
(I must agree. It is quite disheartening, just look how much effort he puts in to conforming.)
“Can yer blame ‘im then, eh squire? He’s the only one in the bleedin’ crowd that ‘ave a looks like that.”
(Well can you blame the poor chap? He is the only one amongst the group that bears such an appearance.)
“Such a shame, do wot guvnor. He’s not gonna last long.”
(It is quite a shame. I don't believe he will be present for long.)