Hollow Shades Grand Finale Part 2.9.3
Speech Increased To 2.5
The fight that ensued was bitter, cruel, and painful—the mudcrabs fell upon our heroes with a fury unlike anything Equestria had ever seen, and had they been made of any lesser stuff, our valiant protagonists would not have survived—but they were brave and they had nowhere to turn, and where hope fails, desperation holds. Surrounded on all sides, and under heavy assault from both land and air, the brave guard held his own with steel and determination, and two frightened ponies clambered up high on his arm and shoulders.
Frightened, yes, but not without valor. For even as the unending tide overwhelmed the stalwart defense of the guard, Juniper and Jelly kicked and punched and bit with all the strength they had in their little pony bodies. Long after the fear and terror had congealed in their hearts, and their screams of horror had been replaced by tired grunts of pain every time a claw or pincer cut them, the two mares still fought on.
The pile of mudcrab carcasses around them was witness to the ferocious struggle. The heavy breaths of the two circling bat ponies—exhausted after dozens of passes and strikes that had failed to fell the mighty guard—was testimony to the willpower on display. Had there been any hope for relief, for reinforcements, or an opportunity for escape, then surely our heroes must have prevailed...
...but there was none.
The mudcrabs tore at the fur of his boots and the skin beneath, and the guard cried out through gritted teeth as his sword arm cramped. His knees trembled from exertion, and his breath came ragged and uneven. The pounding of his heart was a thunderstorm in his ears, and he could no longer hear the bat ponies as they rushed him. So much sweat had pooled over his forehead that it was almost impossible to keep his eyes open. Not that it mattered in that terrible darkness.
An armored hoof struck him across the iron helmet and tossed his head to the side. Stars danced across his vision, and pain flared all through the left side of his face. The taste of copper was vibrant in his mouth. The guard staggered back a few steps and the mares cried out as he struggled to regain his balance.
“This doesn’t... look... good...” he said between gasping breaths. Blood dribbled down his chin.
“What are we going to do?!” Juniper’s voice was tired, and though the unmistakable tinge of fear smeared her every word, there was something else, something darker.
“There’s nothing we can do...” Jelly Squish said, with that same, dreadful feeling to her words.
Resignation.
“I can’t... get a beat... on him...” the guard mumbled as he turned, doing what he could to ignore the flare of pain every time the mudcrabs tore pieces off his clothing and scratched deep gouges into the flesh of his legs. He looked for the bat ponies in the pitch darkness, but it was useless.
“We don’t... stand a chance...” he muttered, and his knees buckled under him.
“Woah!”
“Wah!”
The two mares fell to the ground as the spent guard collapsed to all fours. His sword clattered away, drenched in gore and badly chipped after so brutal a battle. Useless, it came to a stop at the edge of the mudcrab army and was quickly lost under the unending tide of skittering claws.
The beasts took pause, as though they had come to comprehend the magnitude of their losses, and a sense of primitive fear had taken hold of them. But in their hollow eyes there was nothing but the desire to feed. They surged once again, relentless and primeval. Hungry for their kills.
Spent and with nothing left to cling to, our heroes waited for death to come.
Still standing through the burning pain of her many wounds, Juniper sniffled and hugged the guard’s arm to her chest. ‘I got to be a good pony in the end,’ she thought, as tears streamed into her fur. ‘I made a friend.’
Jelly Squish growled at the horde of crustaceans as they came. Gooey tears ran freely down her cheeks. Her final wish—to see her valorous Toad one last time—would go unfulfilled.
Our mighty guard, laid low at long last by the unstoppable horde, raised his gaze to watch the faint outline of the monsters against the unnatural glow of the Machine. To have come so far and seen so much, only to perish in such dreadful darkness against the backdrop of some alien monstrosity... the thought would chill the blood of lesser men, but he merely watched the end approach in silence.
The first of hundreds of claws rose to cut at his throat, and a loud hiss! caught his attention. He turned in time to see the vague silhouette of an armored hoof ram into his head.
The world went dark.
***
It was dark inside the cell. Only the faintest rays of moonlight filtered through the iron bars of the city jail, and even those were smothered by the heavy cobwebs and clouds of dust that infested the tiny space where our hero was now held captive.
Our brave guard awoke with a start—he half expected to see the vicious claws of a mudcrab before him, ready to strike—but instead there were iron bars. His cell was the largest, but that meant little for one of his height. He had to kneel and bend his neck just to fit in the tiny room. Both his hands were manacled, as were his legs, with iron chains as thick as his thumbs that were bound to the stone floor. His head was secured to the wall with a length of rope, and his sword and shield were nowhere to be found.
"Hey, you...” came a voice from somewhere to his right. Our brave guard tried to turn, but the rope held fast. He could only shake his manacles to show he could hear whoever had spoken.
“You're finally awake...” It was a nord’s voice! He strained hard against his bindings, desperate to see who it was. “You were trying to cross the border, right?”
The Guard nodded, a feeble gesture against the rope. It had not been long since he’d left the wheat fields whence he’d first teleported in and crossed into the dread wood of Hollow Shades.
“Walked right into that Imperial ambush,” the voice continued, raspy and tired, as though it had gone long without a drop of water. “...same as us, and that thief over there."
That gave him pause. Us?
A light flickered to life from the corner of the dungeon, and then he saw it.
Bones. Dozens of them. Human skulls, ribcages, femurs and vertebrae coated the stone floor of his cell and the adjacent ones. In one of the cells opposite his, he saw a scrawny man, more dead than alive, chained much like he was. Another nord! The ‘thief’ as the voice had named him, shivered slightly within his bindings and sighed. He was not long for Sovngarde.
“Shor’s bones,” our beaten guard muttered. His jaw ached fiercely, and he tasted blood with every word. “Did it kill them all...?”
The voice did not reply. There was no need. From the far side of the dungeon, with a lantern in his cream-coated hoof, the Mayor approached...
“If it isn’t my monster...” Pierre said as he came to a stop at the bars of his cell. The invisible pony wore his usual trenchcoat and cream-slathered fur, as well as a pair of dark sunshades. His lips were pursed into a grimace. “Not quite as intimidating now, are you?”
“You're going to pay!” the Guard growled and strained hard against the chains. They clinked! and rattled against their bearings, but held. Pierre simply watched him, impassive, cold... like he’d done this a hundred times.
“You can scream all you like,” he muttered. “But nopony is coming to help you. Nopony ever does... aren’t you curious about your little friends? Hmm?”
The rope groaned against the force of the guard’s muscles. A few strands frayed, but once more his bindings held.
Pierre grinned. “Oh yes, I have them here, too. Not that it matters.” His expression darkened. “You won’t see them again. Nopony ever will.”
The mayor turned and gave a stiff nod. The two bat ponies from the cavern entered the dungeon, with a length of chain held in their mouths. At its end were several collars.
“Get him and the others downstairs,” he said. The two bat ponies exchanged a glance.
“Him too?” they beckoned to the thief, barely conscious in his binds. “There can’t be much left in him, Mayor!”
“I want it all,” Pierre hissed, eyes wide and teeth bared. “Nothing wasted. I’m running out of time! The princesses are onto us and the Machine must be fed...”
The bat ponies nodded and moved into the cells with practiced ease. They chained up the thief to a collar and released him from the floor and wall. The man all but collapsed to the ground. Then they went for the voice, and when they finally came for the Guard, they had a tall, withered nord chained up to the second collar. His blonde, dirty hair was matted and filthy, as were his clothes. The man looked like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
But the moment they tried to put the collar on him, the Guard fought back. He tossed, turned, and kicked and punched as best he could. It soon became obvious that he would not go peacefully, especially not with as little as a collar on his neck.
“Stop! Stop it you fools,” the Mayor stepped up and pushed his lackeys aside. He glared down at the Guard. “You will be drained. One way or another.”
Our brave hero looked at the Mayor. He knew his situation to be hopeless... there was no way he could escape, and eventually, Pierre would get what he wanted... but he would fight him every step of the way, and the Mayor knew it too.
“What do you want?” the Mayor asked him.
What did he want? Behind the thick iron of his helmet, past the stoic gaze that he had always worn, something happened. But what was it he wanted? Memories flooded his mind; guard duty, to stand before Whiterun’s gates as the hours passed by; the occasional wolf or brigand that roamed too close to his posting... guard duty... day in and day out, from sunrise to sunrise, as the days went by and weeks turned to months... Whiterun. The gates. The fields.
Guard duty.
“B-brigands I can h-handle...” he muttered. Each word was a struggle against himself. “...b-but this talk of dragons?” He bit his tongue and groaned against the effort each sentence forced from him. “...world's gone... mad... I say...”
“I say...” He couldn’t breathe. He could hardly speak. But for the first time since he first had opened his eyes, the Guard realized that he could do something more.
“I need to ask you to stop...” He forced himself to keep going.
“By Ysmir... you've helped... save the... Gildergreen...”
Pierre arched an eyebrow even as a smirk formed on his face.
“...you look tired... friend!” he shouted.
Exhausted, he collapsed to his knees. Before him Pierre said nothing for a while, but simply grinned.
“Silvermoon,” he said at last. “Let Juniper and the goo-pony go.”
A pause. “You, uh, you sure Mayor?”
“Let them go, Silvermoon.”
The Guard trembled from exertion, but a shiver of something new also washed over him. Relief. Even if he had to go to the Machine, at least the mares would be okay... his friends would be safe.
“As you say, Mayor.”
Without struggle, the other bat pony latched the collar onto the Guard’s neck and hauled him up, now free of his bindings. As they led them out and back into the depths of the secret tunnels under the town hall, the nord spoke to him in a whisper.
“I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits.”
The guard did not respond. It didn’t matter anymore.
Quietly they went into the depths... to the Machine.