My Little Pony Realization

by Slendy

Episode 4 - Scapegoat

Act I - New Game

Items, like in any game, run on a rarity system. White. Green. Blue. Purple. Orange. But Red Tier items are much more ambiguous. Snuggled between Blue and Purple tier they are items that offer many uses that are not categorized, they could be a quest item, a material, or even an accessory that only serves to impede a player with debuffs, until they are categorized by the player that hold them they will remain a mystery across MLPR. However, one such item has been identified.

Simply called, Memory Fragment, so far, its only use is to serve as a small glimpse into an event that has transpired within a selected area, be it a conversation on the street, the rotation of mob patrols, or even a battle. Its use is pretty limited unless you know how to correctly use such an item like me.

The halls were vacant, devoid of color or substance say the dull black and grey of the dungeon walls. A player passed beyond the blackiron doors left ajar, their hoofsteps reverberating off the long hallway. The player stopped just before the entrance, bringing up their menu with a flick of their hoof, diving into their Items menu they scrolled under the list landed on the red-barred item. Configuring it into an object the menu vanished and her hoof caught a small, rhombus diamond.

"Memory Defrag," Her words whispered to the jewel as it began to glow, shattering all around her as the tiny specks entered the hall, twinkling like stardust as ghostly outlines of ponies and the faint echoes of weaponry clashing and clanking against object reverberated across the dull hallway. Four specific outlines of white caught her eye, one towering over them, a bipedal beast clasping a long sword in its hand

"-A stun effect!!" A feminine pony gasped, a number of players rooted to the floor before the creature as it brought its large weapon back, snarling down at the players

"No, no, no..." One was frozen where Artorias stood, himself unable to lift his sword and shield in his magic. "Get outta there!"

The weapon came crashing down, so much so the memory of a huge gust of wind blew through Artorias as Gwyn lunged forward, parrying the massive downward slash with his shield, thereby saving the players who finally recovered. The one beside Artorias chuckled with relief. "Sir Gwyn!"

"Hurry up and move in with the tanks!" The familiar voice of Skye caught her attention, watching him and the female player from before rushing the vanguard in an effort to reinforce Gwyn's isolated defense. "The boss' going for a follow-up attack, take care of the team that's still stunned!" That made Artorias' brow raise, how did he know it was going for a follow-up?

"We're on it!" One player announced with another, larger figure stepping in

"And what about you both, your gear's-"

"We'll draw his aggro ourselves!" They announced as one

Whoever was with Skye tore across the battlefield, the lesser mobs that Boss kept with it shattered as they stormed the front, deflecting another vertical strike from the Boss, its body staggered slightly into bringing its weapon over the right shoulder, muzzle curled with a snarl. "Good, focus on deflecting, I'll tear out its throat and end this!" Gwyn declared, blocking another strike that almost brought him to his knees, yet he somehow held strong. "We're clearing this Boss together!!!"

Artorias felt it, this wasn't the right time for a counteroffensive. Skye's astral form snapped around, his hoof swung out before sprinting after his companion and the reckless Gywn. "No, you need to focus on defense-!" The Boss grinned, arm braced with a sharp flow of energy across the sword. "-Gywn, no!!"

"Cancel your skill, hurry!" Skye's warning was far too late, the light overtook Gwyn's, drawing down with a powerful gust of wind that tore at the ground, even outside the memory. Skye dived, tackling his partner down from the wave of light that tore across a wide area. When the dust and wind settled, Skye lifted his eyes as Artorias did, the pony under his hoof almost peering up

Gwyn's body slumped back, his blade shattered into pieces, kite shield battered across the hall, and everything from his upper jaw cleaved into shards, yet Artorias swore she saw something, not a pony breathing his final breath, but a knight with his index finger poised toward the fading forms of Skye and his partner and herself, "...I-I... le-leave the r-rest... t-to you..."

While the memory soon faded, that harrowing frame etched itself into her eyes as his body was reduced to shattered glass. It was the first time Artorias had seen someone die in this Death Game, a cruel and unfair way to die. She had only ever seen numbers and names stroked out across marble, only now, every slice of a blade's true edge dug deeper than before, filling her with rage.

*Groan-Creeeeak*

Across the dusky hall, an empty throne sat in the far back. Or it used to be, but a dark, imposing figure lifted his cheek from a palm, growling at the intruder.

She had no idea why she came here, of all places why would this matter to her? For Gywn? No, it was simple, players would come from the towns, they would level using the higher-ranking mobs from the temple, and then they'd grow curious, investigate the room the assault team struck against the Death Game, and they'd face 'Him'.

The room brightened up as the figure's eyes lit up, roaring as it leapt from its empty throne, slamming into the ground as the color reached the end of the hallway. The gashes in the walls came to life with white, so did the ceiling as three, curved health bars appeared above the forehead. Artorias' frown deepened with a tinge of malice etched into her pupils.

She drew her blade, buckler brought to bear as the boss roared. A buff, dark blue, bipedal wolf with broken chains linked to his wrists and ankles, a choker collar ringed with broken spikes. A pair of large, crimson eyes lacking features bearing down on her, the gums lifting to reveal curved teeth. Clutched in its right was a long, aged mace, the head crowned with curved blades.

Two levels higher, this would be tough. Breaking left the mace shattered the floor beneath her, hoof pressed to the handle of the mace as Artorias brought her body upwards, right foreleg folded behind her back as she spun around, the twin blue slashes tearing through the boss' flesh. She landed, evading to the left as it missed, but she remained fixed to her spot, <Rage Spike> split through the thighs, her feet squeaking on the marble as she dove low, spinning around for a sonic blast to ripple across Dren's arms, parrying the left as she smashed her shield against its muzzle, bringing her sword down in a <Vertical> slant.

She threw herself back, the weapon's gleam shaving her muzzle as Dren swiped hastily to catch her. Artorias flanked, her ponytail grazed by his mace as she brought Silver across its stomach, twirling to smack the pommel off its chin as she hopped over the left arm, the mace missing while she pivoted, bringing her blade down to saw through the back of Dren's left knee.

The two spun around, Dren's mace crossed with her blade, the two deflecting before her sword came up over her shoulder to parry the low-bearing lunge of the blunt weapon, her buckler and his forearm's chain battering against one another briefly while their blades shuddered against the other, brittle sparks forcing them away with an intersecting contrail.

Digital blood was spilled, skills crackled like fireworks against robust steel, sweat and roars tossed across the halls while the two combatants danced to the rhythm of MLPR's melodies, their shadows dashing across the walls, distorting with clashes and the occasional body flung into a wall or ground. Neither knew how long the skirmished lasted, and neither NPC nor player cared.

Breaking apart from another ceaseless clash, the last health bar tainted red, shuddering, Dren cast off his weapon, and true to the report she read, Dren swung out a massive, bandaged katana from its waist. Artorias allowed herself a smirk. "You know there's a crude one-liner to be had," She lost her brief moment atop cloud nine, reverting to a glare that could set the world alight. "But it's not past noon."

The large, scarred wolfman proceeded to utterly outmaneuver the redhead as she kept her eyes pinged to every point it ricocheted toward, each step, every twist and turn to adjust its landing. She didn't budge, pulling her buckler to rest over her eyes as they caught the finest detail of the feet poised toward her from a pillar, the blade bathing her in a cherry-red light.

Her rose eyes widened behind her buckler as the light grew to consume her body, "Brightburn Shield!" To contrast the light, her shield released an immediate and blinding light, canceling out the skill above as she rolled backward, bending at her knees with her sword cast in the same kind of light.

Dren landed on his feet, drawing his weapon behind his shoulder once more, an almost unbearable, blue light gathering around the blade like a wind current. "So it is magic, Arc," Identifying the cause of Gywn's death she kept her skill alight, leaping at the last possible second as she felt her health take a hit from the sweeping gale-force under her hooves, the ground smothered in blue air.

Evading the massive counterattack, Artorias pressed her back hooves to the edge of the katana, diving toward Dren with her right forehoof outstretched. She brought the true edge through Dren's gut, spilling red shards while her hoof inverted the blade carving it through the same line once more. Stomping down on his wrist she spun herself through the wolfman's throat, twisting her sword in a split second to bring both her body and blade through the right-hand side of the boss, gouging out its throat as Gwyn once attempted.

The flaming force of the slashes threw Dren across the hall, body erupting into flames and a fountain of shards as the remains were washed away with a single swing from Artorias, her hair resting gradually from the hot updraft. "That's for Sir Knight," With the faintest respect she had, she brought her blade high, allowing the last light of the arena to catch across her Silver Grove before she sheathed it with a single click.

Then, a message popped up to her whimsical eye.

Even as a gloomy shroud overtook the hall once more, a flash and flutter of cloth could be heard alongside the wearer's small chuff as they took off for the exit behind her. Subconsciously, her mind continued to cloud with Gwyn's final words, herself stopping at the right-hand side of the grand hall, eyeing the forgotten shield resting upright against the wall.

Did he mean those words for Skye? One of his 'heroic messages' like before? Something felt off about that, not that the words weren't for him, not entirely, did he know? She shook her head at the shield, scoffing, how could he possibly have guessed something so improbable, it made no logical sense. And yet here she was, listening to the past like an action movie, heck, she defeated the boss herself, granted, her gear was vastly superior to something as simple as a level.

Whatever the case may be, she added the kite shield to her inventory before turning and walking away with a heavy sigh.

To Be Continued...