“Bye guys, have fun at the festival!” Spike called out as he watched the hot air balloon carrying Twilight and her friends disappeared into the clouds. “And they’re off for the next few days, which means…Guy’s Night is officially on! Oh yeah! Un huh! It’s Guy’s Night!” Spike chanted to himself as he gleefully danced around the balloon platform.
“It certainly appears you’re looking forward to tonight.” Spike spun around to see a bemused Moonwhisper trotting up the platform.
“Well yeah, it feels like we haven’t had a real Guy’s Night in forever,” Spike said. “You’re still coming, right?”
“I did promise that I would, didn’t I? For what it’s worth, I’ve already taken the liberty of reading through the rulebooks to familiarize myself with the game and have a done preliminary writeup for a character,” Moonwhisper added.
“Awesome! Well, I still have a few things to take care of at the school before tonight, but everything will start at sundown tonight.”
*********
“In any event, between the reconnaissance reports I received on Hope’s Hollow and the fact that Lieutenant Silver Streak will be shadowing them I’m not terribly worried,” Moonwhisper said.
“So, their whole festival trip’s going to go off without any problems?” Spike asked.
“I didn’t say that,” Moonwhisper replied. “Hope’s Hollow is, by all accounts, a dismal, joyless…I believe the phase the reconnaissance leader used was ‘manure pit’. There’s no evidence Twilight and the others will be in any actual danger, however, and the town’s issues seem to fall under the classification of friendship problems, so Twilight would be the best pony to deal with it anyway. I tried warning Twilight about what to expect, but she wasn’t interested in listening and under the circumstances I felt it wasn’t worth pushing the issue.”
“Eeyup,” Big McIntosh concurred.
Spike, meanwhile, let out a deep sigh. “So much for Twilight having a relaxing vacation, I guess. Anyway, once Discord gets here we’ll be all set to get started. It shouldn’t be too long, he never misses a game of Ogres and Oubliettes.”
“I wouldn’t have expected him to be the punctual type,” Moonwhisper mused. At that moment, the castle doorbell rang out, prompting Spike to race to the foyer.
“That’s probably him now! Weird, he usually either just appears out of thin air or makes a really big entrance. I guess he just likes keeping us guessing,” Spike said as he opened to door.
It wasn’t a draconequus, on the other side of the door, however, but rather a delivery pony. “Package for…Princess Twilight and Moonwhisper. It says it’s from the EID,” the pony said as she produced a small brown parcel.
“I’ll take that,” Moonwhisper said as he levitated the parcel out of the delivery pony’s hooves. “Of course, this would arrive the same day Twilight isn’t here and Discord will be. Part of me suspects Greater Good arranged it this way on purpose.”
“Ooh, what did he send you?” Moonwhisper looked up to see Discord floating above him with a massive grin on his face.
“Discord, when did you get here?” Spike asked as eh came running up.
“Oh, somewhere around the time you were marveling over my ability to make a memorable entrance. Now, mon capitaine, what did your little spy friend send you?” Discord asked, only for Moonwhisper to levitate the parcel away from him.
“That information is classified,” Moonwhisper replied. “Besides, I was under the impression that there were other matters that you’d be concerned with this evening.”
“Hmm, an excellent point indeed,” Discord said before transforming into his Ogres and Oubliettes character. “Captain Wuzz is ready for whatever adventures this evening has in store. And tell me, shall our heroic trio be joined by a fourth member tonight?”
“We certainly shall,” Spike replied with a grin. “Come on, Big Mac, or should I say Sir McBiggun, should have everything set up in the map room. We’ll catch Moonwhisper up on everything in there.”
*********
“-and so right now Garbunkle, Sir McBiggun and Captain Wuzz are working on a plan to free Princess Shmarity – which, like I said earlier, is a totally normal name in Spiketopia – from the dungeons of the evil Squizard,” Spike said.
“Of course, we’d be much closer to success on that front if somepony hadn’t botched their Bluff attempt on that guard,” Discord growled as he glared meaningfully at Big McIntosh.
“Come on, Discord, it’s not like Big Mac was trying to roll a two, these things just happen sometimes,” Spike said. “You know what they say; the dice giveth and the dice taketh away.”
“Eeyup,” Big McIntosh added.
“I’m fairly certain nopony actually says that, but I’ll concede the point nonetheless,” Discord said. “So, mon capitaine, what adventuring persona have you crafted for yourself? A brave unicorn paladin, perhaps? Or maybe a wise mage?”
“Actually, I’ve gone in a somewhat different direction,” Moonwhisper said as he levitated a cutout depicting a black-clad griffon onto the table and passed Spike a character sheet. “I present you Gregor, griffon assassin.”
“An assassin, huh? I wouldn’t have figured you’d be the sneaky type,” Spike said as he looked over the character sheet.
“Well, I wanted to try something a bit different, and from what you’d told me about the existing party it sounded as though you didn’t have much in the way of stealth or infiltration skills.”
“Mmhmm, very considerate of you, now can we please get started?” Discord said impatiently.
“Sounds good to me,” Spike said, handing Moonwhisper back his character sheet. “So, when we last left our heroes, they had reconvened at the Rusty Bushwoolie after their failed attempt to infiltrate the Squizard’s fortress…”
As Spike laid out the scene, Discord snapped his claws, transforming the four players into their characters and the map room itself into the tap room of a seedy inn. “Alas, it would appear the Squizard’s defenses are more formidable than we anticipated,” Captain Wuzz lamented as he seated himself at the nearest empty table.
“You’re right. We’re going to need to find some way of sneaking our way in there if we want to rescue Shmarity, and to do that I think we’re going to need some professional help,” Garbunkle said.
“Eeyup,” Sir McBiggun agreed.
Hearing his cue, a sinister-looking griffon approached the three heroes. “If you gentlecolts are planning on sneaking into the Squizard’s lair, then you’re going to need more than just a professional,” he said in an odd accent Garbunkle couldn’t quite place. “Luckily for you I am just the griffon who can get you in there…for a price, of course.”
*********
Four hours and a daring infiltration of the sewers below the Squizard’s fortress later, the group decided to take a brief snack break. “So, how’re your first taste of Ogres and Oubliettes?” Spike asked as he and Moonwhisper shared a bowl of cauliflower bites.
“It’s been interesting, I’ll grant you that. The combat system feels a little overly abstracted at times, but not to the point that I’m really all that bothered by it,” Moonwhisper said.
“Yeah, I’m not sure the game writers ever really thought about breaking bones in that much detail,” Spike replied with a slightly queasy expression.
“Ah, yes, sorry about that. I guess I got a little carried away with applying my professional experience to the game. Though, to be honest this has made me a little curious as to what the actual impact hyperextending joints would have on a skeleton given that they lack any muscles or ligaments to damage,” Moonwhisper said.
“Uh huh, so, anyway, what about that accent you gave Gregor?” Spike asked, eager to change the subject. “It sounded kind of familiar, but I can’t quite figure out where I’ve heard it before.”
“Oh, that? It’s a Trotsylvanian accent. I…was raised not to speak with it myself, but I’ve been exposed to it enough that I can speak with it as an affectation if I have a reason to. I hope you don’t mind, it just seemed like something that could add an extra dimension to the character,” Moonwhisper said.
“If you two are done eating, some of us would like to get back to the game,” Discord called back from the table. “The Squizard’s fortress isn’t going to invade itself, you know.” With a nod, Spike and Moonwhisper headed back over to the table. As they rejoined Discord and Big McIntosh, none of the four noticed the faint, pulsing light emanating from Moonwhisper’s saddlebags. “Alright then, onward to adventure!” Discord snapped his talons once again, creating a ripple in reality that transformed the four into their characters and the map room into the tunnels beneath the Squizard’s fortress. When the wave of chaotic energy passed over Moonwhisper’s saddlebags, however, the began to levitate in the air while crackling with magical energy. “Well, that’s not supposed to happen.”
“It must be the artifact Greater Good sent me,” Moonwhisper yelled as he tried approaching the saddlebags. “Your magic must have caused it to activate somehow.” As Moonwhisper spoke, the artifact in question, a ruby amulet ringed with six gold beads, burst out of the saddlebags and unleashed a blinding flash of crimson light.
As the light eventually subsided, the four found themselves standing in the middle of an open field, still transformed into their characters. “Weird, it looks like we’re in the game, but everything looks a lot more, I don’t know, realer than it usually does,” Spike said.
“And we’re not in the dungeons any more, either,” Moonwhisper added as he snatched the still floating amulet out of the air before staring at his talons. “I’m beginning to wonder if I should have chosen a pony race after all. It’s going to be a long time before I get used to these things.”
“Aw come on, Moonwhisper, it can’t be that bad. I mean, Twilight got the hang of stuff like that pretty quick when we got stuck in that other universe where she got turned into a big hairless monkey-thing,” Spike said, prompting Moonwhisper to stare at him in complete silence for several seconds.
“I’m just going to set that bit of information aside to the side for the time being. At the moment, I think we may want to focus on why we’re standing in the middle of a field instead of underground. Discord, do you have any idea what’s going on?”
Discord, however, was somewhat preoccupied at that moment, repeatedly snapping his claws again and again with a look of mounting panic on his face. Finally, Discord stopped and turned to the others. “Gentlecolts, I believe we may have a problem.”